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IN1VOF 

TORONTO 

l.iBRARY 


Materialien  zur   Kunde 

des 
alteren   Englischen   Dramas 


Waterialien  zor  Kunde 

des  alteren  Englisehen  Dramas 

UNTER  MITWIRKUNG  DER  HERREN 


J.  Q.Adams,  Jr.-lTHACA,  F.  S.  Boas-LoNDON,  A.  Brandl-BfiRLiN,  R.  Brotanek- 
PRAG,  F.  I.  Carpenter-CniCAGO,  Ch.  Crawford-LoNDON,  G.  B.  Churchill- 
AMHERST,  W.  Creizenach-KRAKAU,  H.  de  Vocht-LouvAiN,  E.  Eckhardt-FREi- 
BURGI.  B.,  A.  Feuillerat-RENNES,  R.Fischer-lNNSBRUCK,  W.  W.  Greg-LoNDON, 

F.  Holthausen-KiEL,  J.  Hoops-IlEiDELBERG,  W.  Keller-MiiNSTER,  R.  B.  Me 
Kerrow-LoNDON,  G.  L.  Kittredge-CAMBRiDGE,  MASS.,  E.  Koeppel-STRASSBURG, 
J.   Le  Gay   Brereton-SiDNEY,   H.  Logeman-GENT,   J.   M.    Manly-CmcAGO, 

G.  Sarrazin-BRESLAU,  t  L-  Proescholdt-FRiEDRiCHSDORF,  A.  Schroer-CoLN, 
G.  C.  Moore  Smith-SiiEFFiELD,  G.  Gregory  Smith-BELFAST,  A.  E.  H.  Swaen- 
AMSTERDAM,  A.  H.  Thorndike-NEW-YoRK,  f  A.  Wagner-HALLE  A.  S. 

BEGRUENDET  UND    HERAUSGEGEBEN 


W.  BANG 

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


ZWEI  UND  VIERZIGSTER  BAND 


LOUVAIN 

A.  UYSTPRUYST 


LEIPZIG 


O.  HARRASSOWITZ 


LONDON 

DAVID  NUTT 


1914 


WILLIAM  SAMPSON'S 


VOW-BREAKER 


HERAUSGEGEBEN 


VON 


HANS   WALLRATH. 


LOUVAIN 

A.  UYSTPRUYST 


LEIPZIG 


O.  HARRASSOWITZ 


LONDON 

DAVID  NUTT 


IQI4 


Pf? 


Einleitung. 


Die  herrliche  Bliite  des  shakespeareschen  Dramas  verwelkto 
uach  dem  Tode  des  grossen  Stratf order  Meisters  sehr  rasch. 
Seine  liohe  Kunst  war  dem  Publikum  und  deu  moisten  ihn 
nachalimenden  erfolgreichen  Dicliterlingen  der  nachshakes- 
pearesclien  Zeit  nicht  hell  aufgegangen,  und  zwanzig  Jahre 
nach  seinem  Tode  wurde  in  London  ein  Drama  gedruckt,  das 
eine  Nachahmung  der  unsterblichen  Werke  des  grossen  Toten 
darstellt.  Aber  nur  rein  iiusserlich  -  -  in  dern  Aufbau  der 
Scenen,  in  der  Sprache  and  in  den  Bildern.  Was  aber  ewig 
an  Shakespeare  wird  bewundert  werden,  die  psychologische 
Tiefe  seiner  Stiicke,  das  kam  dem  Verfasser  des  in  Frage 
stehendeii  Dramas  gar  nicht  zum  Bewusstsein.  Dass  William 
Sampsons  '  Vow-Breaker  or,  The  Faire  Maide  of  Clifton '  in 
Nottinghamshire  gern  gesehen  und  oft  aufgefuhrt  wurde  l), 
liegt  darau,  dass  der  Dramatiker  in  der  Haupthandlung  ein 
ortliches  Ereignis  behandelte,  das  in  eiiier  Ballade  lebendig 
geblieben  war,  und  in  der  Nebenhandluug  einen  lokalen  Hel- 
den  aus  der  Zeit  der  Queen  Bess  feierte,  Clifton,  einen  wacke- 
ren,  kernigen  Kerl,  von  dem  man  sich  wohl  in  Nottingham 
shire  noch  manches  erziihlte.  Dass  das  Stuck  sonst  Anklang 
faiid  und  gedruckt  wurde,  liegt  vor  allem  an  der  teils  recht 
tragischen,  teils  recht  komischen  Behandlung  des  an  sich 
wirksamen  Vorwurfs. Dieses  'murder play',  um  mit  Schelling  ?) 
zu  sprechen,  ist  eins  der  charakteristischsten  Stiicke  der  nach- 
shakespeareschen  Zeit.  Es  ist  nach  Schelling  '  not  without  a 
homely  force  of  its  own  ',  aber  Sampson  ist  zu  wenig  Menschen- 
kenner  und  Psychologe  als  dass  er  uns  heute  befriedigen 
koniite.  Zu  den  Taten  und  Worten  des  schonen  Miidchens  von 
Clifton  werdeu  wir  manchmal  den  Kopf  schiitteln.  Nicht  aber 


*)  vgl.  Titelblatt  des  Neudrucks. 

2)  cf.  Schelling,  Elizabethan  Drama  I,  348. 


hat  das  Stuck  die  stiefmiitterliche  Beliandlung  verdient,  die 
man  ihm  in  der  Wissenschaft  hat  zuteil  werden  lassen.  Das 
bat  natiirlich  seinen  Grund  auch  darin,  dass  es  niclit  alien 
zuganglich  ist.  Es  sind  uns  niclit  allzuviele  Exemplare  erhalten. 
Von  den  drei  Londoner  Quartos  sind  zwei  im  Britischen  Museum 
(Press  Marks  :  162  d  66  and  644  f  45)  un(i  eine  in  der  Dvce  Col- 
lection  des  Victoria  and  Albert  Museums,  des  friiheren  South 
Kensington  Museums  (Catalogue  I.  833i).  Auch  in  der  Bod 
leian  Library  zu  Oxford  befindet  sich  das  Stiick.  An  der  Hand 
meines  Neudrucks,  dem  die  Londoner  Exemplare  zu  Grunde 
liegen,  gehe  ich  nalier  darauf  ein  als  das  bisher  geschehen  ist. 
Was  wir  namlich  iiber  Sampsons  '  Vow-Breaker '  in  der 
Wissenschaft  erfahren,  ist  recht  wenig.  Meistens  ist  nur  der 
Titel  angegeben.  So  bei  Giles  Jacob  l),  Winstanley  2)  und  Lang- 
baine 3),  was  schon  Singer  in  seiner  Dissertation  erwalmt 
(Das  burgerliche  Trauerspiel  in  England,  Leipzig  1891).  Von 
Baker  4)  an  kennen  wir  die  alte  Ballade,  die  Sampson  benutzt 
und  zum  Teil  in  seinem  Drama  zitiert  hat.  Godfrey  5)  hebt  die 
offensichtlicheii  Mangel  und  Vorziige  des  Stiickes  hervor,  ohne 
dabei  in  die  Tiefe  zu  gehen.  So  ist  ihm  ein  Irrtum  unterlaufen, 
wenn  er  mit  folgenden  Worten  Sampson  einer  Inkonsequenz 
beschuldigen  will  :  '  In  the  course  of  an  excellent  speech,  the 
Mayor  (who  affirms  he  has  "  noe  Lawyers  eloquence,  our 
Recorder  cannot  whistle  ")  refers  to  the  town  arms  of  Notting 
ham  in  these  terms ',  etc.  Die  Klammer  ist  nicht  notig.  Denn 
wenn  der  Biirgermeister  auch  nicht  die  Gabe  der  Beredsamkeit 
empfangeii  hat  —  er  scheint  sie  wirklich  nicht  zu  besitzen  — , 
so  kann  man  ihm  doch  zutrauen,  dass  er  die  '  excellent  speech  ' 
ablesen  kann.  Wir  haben  uns  das  Stadtoberhaupt  mit  einem 
Pergament  in  der  Hand  vorzustellen.  Godfrey  hat  sicherlich 
des  Biirgermeisters  Worte  iibersehen  :  '  Give  reason,  brother 
Sheepskin,  second  me'  etc,  und  auch  Elizabeths  Aufforderung  : 
'  On,  to  your  Charter ! '  hat  er  niclit  beachtet.  Im  iibrigen 
stimme  ich  Godfrey  in  den  meisten  Stiicken  zu.  Auch  Singers 


M  The  poetical  register.  1719,  unter  Sampson. 

2)  Lives  of  the  poets.  London,  1687.  S.  i5i. 

3)  The  Lives  and  Characters  of  the  English  Poets.  London,  1699. 

4)  Biographia  Dramatica.  London,  1812. 

5)  William  Sampson.  1894. 


—  3  — 

Bemerkungen  in  der  oben  erwiilmten  Abhaiidlung  lasse  ich 
unwidersprochen,  von  einem  kleinen  Irrtum  abgesehen,  auf 
den  ich  spater  zu  sprechen  komme.  Wiihrend  Godfrey  nur  ganz 
kurz  auf  den  Inhalt  eingeht,  erziihlt  Singer  die  Haupthandlung 
sehr  ausfiilirlich,  kommt  aber  auf  die  sehr  wichtige  Nebenhand- 
lung  kaum  zu  sprechen  —  das  Thema  seiner  Arbeit  rechtfertigt 
ja  dieses  \rorgehen.  Aucli  Schellingin  dem  oben  zitierteu  Buche 
lasst  die  Kriegshandlung  aus  dem  Spiel.  Und  doch  enthiilt  sie 
so  viel  Ilistorisches,  dass  dem  Stiick  ein  Platz  in  seinem 
English  Chronicle  Play  (New  York  1902)  wohl  eingeraumt 
werden  konnte.  Im  Dictionary  of  National  Biography  gibt 
Sidney  Lee  auch  noch  in  ein  paar  Worten  den  Inhalt  unseres 
Dramas  an,  und  Eckhardt  l)  eiidlich  gewiihrt  einer  kurzen 
Bemerkung  liber  die  schottische  Sprache  einer  Scene  (II,  i) 
Raum,  die  ich  in  meinen  Anmerkungen  zitieren  werde.  Keiner 
aber  von  alien  geht  etwas  niiher  auf  das  Stiick  ein.  Keiner 
weist  hin  auf  den  stark  historischen  Einschlag,  von  dem  ich 
eben  sprach  :  Es  werden  uns  da  Namen  und  Ereignisse  aus  der 
Belagerung  von  Leith  berichtet,  fiir  die  unter  den  sonst  ge- 
briiuchlichen  Chroniken  Quellen  nicht  aufzutreiben  sind. Keiner 
weist  hin  auf  die  starke  Abhiingigkeit  von  Shakespeare,  die 
dem  Stiick  manches  Reizvolle  eintriigt.  Keiner  weist  darauf 
hin,  dass  sich  anderseits  hier  wieder  so  recht  deutlich  der  tiefe 
Stand  des  Geschmacks  der  nachshakespeareschen  Zeit  offen- 
bart,  der  Obzonitiiten  und  Zoten  ertrug,  wie  sie  uns  Akt  IV, 
Scene  2  geboten  werden.  Bei  der  Lektiire  soldier  Stellen  wird 
uns  der  Hass  der  Puritaner  gegen  das  Theater  verstiindlich, 
und  wir  wundern  uns  nicht,  dass  solche  Erzeugnisse  mit  zu 
dem  Gedanken  verhalfen,  die  Theater,  '  the  abodes  of  the 
Devil ',  zu  schliessen,  wie  es  dann  1642,  sechs  J.ahre  nach  dem 
Druck  unseres  Dramas,  tatsiichlich  geschah. 

*)  Dialekt-  und  Ausliindertypen.  Bangs  Mat.  XXVII. 


William  Sampson. 


Uber  William  Sampson,  den  Verfasser  unseres  Dramas  'The 
Vow-Breaker ',  ist  niclit  allzuviel  bekannt.  Wir  haben  nur 
ganz  sparliche  Anhaltspunkte.  Ganz  zufiillig  fand  ich  im  Bri- 
tisclien  Museum  ein  Schriftstiick,das  uns  Sampsons  Geburtjahr 
erscliliessen  lasst.  Aucli  das  Todesjalir  muss  icli  in  eine  andere 
Zeit  verlegen,  als  wo  man  es  bislier  gesuclit  liat,  einen  termi 
nus  a  quo  wenigstens  liabe  icli  auch  liier  feststelleii  konnen. 
Sonst  ist  uns  lieute  im  wesentlichen  niclit  viel  mehr  bekannt 
als  was  sclioii  Giles  Jacob  l)  wusste.  Was  er  liber  Sampson 
sclireibt,  hat  Singer  in  seiner  Dissertation  "  Das  biirgerliche 
Trauer spiel  in  England  "  mitgeteilt ;  es  lieisst  da  S.  61  :  '  A 
gentleman  retain'd  in  the  Family  of  Sir  Henry  Willoughby  of 
Richley  in  Derbyshire,  in  the  Reign  of  King  Charles  I.  He 
writ  one  Play  (=  Vow-Breaker)  dedicated  to  Mrs.  Anne 
Willoughby.  He  also  join'd  with  Mr.  Markham  in  his  '  Herod 
and  Antipater  ".  Jacob  korrigierend,  bemerkt  Singer  dazu,  dass 
es  sich  hier  iibrigens  um  '  Miss  '  Anne  Willoughby  handele  — 
ihr  sei  diese  Widmung  zugedacht.  Nur  muss  man  dabei 
bedenken,  dass  friiher  auch  vor  die  Namen  der  Unverheira- 
teten '  Mrs. '  geschrieben  wurde  und  niclit  '  Miss  '  wie  heute. 
Auch  was  Winstanley  *),  Langbaine  3)  und  Baker  4),  berichten, 
kann  man  bei  Singer  nachlesen  —  Neues  bringt  er  niclit,  ebenso- 
wenig  wie  Fleay  5).  Von  der  bei  Baker  erwahnten  Komodie 
Sampsons  '  The  Widow's  Prize  '  wird  uns  im  Lansdowne 
Manuscript  807  mitgeteilt,  dass  Warburtons  beruhmt  gewor- 
dene  Koch  in  die  Handschrift  verbrannte.  In  dem  einzigeii 
Buche,  das  Sampson  allein  zum  Gegenstand  hat  —  das  Buch 


*)  Poetical  register  s.  v. 

2)  Lives  of  the  poets  a.  a.  O. 

3)  Lives  and  Characters,  pag.  120. 

4j  Biographia  Dramatica.  I,  383  u.  II,  897. 

5)  A  Biographical  Chronicle  of  the  English  Drama.  London,  1891. 


_  5  — 

1st  allerdings  von  wiuzigem  Umfange  — ,  in  Godfreys  'William 
Sampson  '  l)  wird  lius  erziihlt,  dass  der  Dramatiker  wahrschein- 
lich  in  South  Leverton  geboren  1st,  dass  er  als  religious  man 
beschrieben  wird  und  dass  er  ausser  den  Dram  en  noch  einen 
kleinen  Gedichtband  '  Virtus  post  funera  vivit '  verfasst  hat, 
dessen  Gedichtiiberschriften  und  Gedichte  selbst  zum  Teil  in 
dem  Werkchen  abgedruckt  sind.  Hunters  schlecht  leserliches 
Manuscript  endlich  (Addit.  Ms.  24488)  weist  auf  Sir  Henry  Wil- 
louglibys  Testament  hin,  das  sich  Addit.  Ms.  6688  befindet, 
/war  nicht  als  solches,  sondern  breit  ausgefiihrt  in  einer  langen 
Klageschrift.  Beide  Handschriften  fiihrt  Sidney  Lee  im 
'  Dictionary  of  National  Biography'  an,  die  Klageschrift  hat 
er  aber  wohl  nicht  eiugesehen  —  er  ware  sonst  vor  maiichem 
Irrtum  bewahrt  geblieben,  den  jetzt  diese  vollstiindigste  aller 
Darstellungen  von  Sampsons  Lebeii  auf  weist. 

Zwar  dass  er  schon  das  Geburtsjahr  des  Dramatikers, 
wenn  auch  mit  aller  Vorsicht,  /iemlich  schief  angibt,  liegt 
daran,  dass  er  ein  Schriftstiick  nicht  kannte,  das  ich  /ufiillig 
fand.  Es  1st  Harl.  Ms.  99  (18)  —  nicht,  wie  der  Katalog  des 
Britischen  Museums  sagt,  Harl.  Ms.  99  (i5).  Das  Dokument 
ist  dort  bezeichnet  als  '  William  Sampson's  Affidavit,  as  to  the 
Age  of  Dame  Elizabeth  Wife  to  SrSimonds  D'Ewes,&  Youngest 
Daughter  to  SrHenry  Willughby.  Dat.  29  Sep1'  1649  '  und  lautet : 

I  William  Sampson  now  aged  about  fourty  nine  Yeeres  doe  declare 
f  testifie  that  Dame  Elizabeth  d'Ewes  now  wife  of  Sr  Simonds  d'Evves 
of  Stowhall  in  the  county  of  Suffolk  Knight  and  Baronett  and  Youn 
gest  Daughter  of  Sr  Henry  Willugby  of  Risle  in  the  County  of  Darby 
Baronett,  was  borne  vpon  Sunday  the  nine  (J  twentith  day  of  June 
being  Sl  Peters  day  in  the  afternoone  betvveene  two  f  three  of  the  clocke 
in  the  yeare  1628.  my  selfe  being  then  Servant  vnto  the  said  Sr  Henry 
Willughby.  In  witnesse  whereof  I  haue  subscribed  my  name  this 
29th  of  September  1649. 

Septemb  the  29th 

1649  William  Sampson. 

Dieser  William  Sampson  kann  kein  anderer  sein  als  unser 
Dramatiker.  Wir  erfahren  also  hieraus  : 

Sampson  ist  im  Jahre  1600  geboren  und  hat  1649  noch  gelebt 


William  Sampson,  seventeenth  century  poet  ami  dramatist.  1894. 


die  ganze  Lebenszeit  1st  also  etwa  10  Jalirc  spiiter  anzusetzen 

als  Sidney  Lee  es  tut,  d.  li.  der  Dramatiker  1st  niclit,  wie  Sidney 
Lee  weiter  sagt,  gieicli  nacli  der  Veroffentlichung  seiner 
Gediclitsammlung  '  Virtus  post  funera  vivit '  i636  gestorben  ; 
auch  kann  dann  natiirlich  Sampsons  verwitwete  Gattiii  1687 
niclit  Obadiali  Grew  geheiratet  liaben.  Wenn  alles  belegt 
werden  kann,  was  unter  Grew,  Obadiali  im  Dictionary  of 
National  Biography  gesagt  wird  —  He  married  (25  Dec.  1687) 
Helen  (born  February  i6o3,  died  19  Oct.  1687)  daughter  of 
Gregory  Vicars  of  Treswell,  Nottinghamshire,  widow  of  Wil 
liam  Sampson  of  South  Leverton,  Nottinghamshire,  and  mother 
of  Henry  Sampson  —  so  muss  es  sicli  um  einen  anderen  Wil 
liam  Sampson  kandeln.  Nacli  unserem  '  Affidavit  '  hat  jeden- 
falls  Sir  Henry  Willoughbys  servant  noch  1649  gelebt,  ja  wir 
haben  sogar  ein  Zeugnis,  dass  er  am  i5.  Februar  i655  noch 
niclit  gestorben  war  —  die  oben  erwahnte  Klageschrift  mit  dem 
Testament  Sir  Henry  Willoughbys,  die  ja  Sidney  Lee  niclit 
eingesehen  hat.  Die  3o  Seiten  lange  Handschrift  ist  niclit  voll- 
standig,  so  dass  uns  die  Unterschriften  fehlen.  Aber  soviel 
ist  klar  :  Die  Vollstrecker  von  Sir  Henry  Willoughbys  Testa 
ment,  Sampson  und  zwei  andere  servants,  beantragen  vor 
Gericht  Strafe  gegen  eine  Anzahl  Leute,  die  ilmen  Falschungen 
bei  Ausiibung  ihres  Amtes  vorgeworfen  haben.  Der  Anfang 
der  Schrift  J)  lautet  : 


1 5  th  February  i655. 
Hales./ 


To  the  Right  hoble  the 
Lords  Commrs  for  the  great 
Seale  of  England. 


H umbly  Complaining  shewe  unto  your  Lordshipps  your  Lordshipps 
daily  Orato«  Henry  Smith  William  Sampson  and  Michaell  Cowle  all 
late  of  Risley  in  the  County  of  Derby  gent  Excecutors  of  the  last  Will 
and  Testament  of  Sir  Henry  Willoughby  of  Risley  aforesaid  Barro- 
nett  That  whereas  the  said  Sir  Henry  Willoughby  heereto  fore  that 
is  to  say  in  or  about  the  sixt  day  of  October  in  the  yeare  of  our  Lord 
One  thousand  six  hundred  ffifty  and  three  made  his  last  Will  and 
Testament  etc. 


d)  Addit.  Ms.  6688  f.  142. 


Also  i653  1st  Sampson  nodi  Testamentsvollstrecker  bei  Sir 
Henry  Willoughoys  Tode  und  i655  noch  Klager  vor  Gericlit. 
So  liegt  also  seine  mindestens  etwa  ip  Jahre  liingere  Lebens- 
zeit  —  bei  Sidney  Lee  ^6,  hier  55  Jahre  —  10  Jahre  spiiter 
als  das  Dictionary  of  National  Biography  angibt. 

Ob  Sampson  in  South  Leverton  geboren  ist,  muss  dahin 
gestellt  bleiben.  Wahrscheinlich  ist  es  allerdings,  was  ja  auch 
Godfrey  uud  Sidney  Lee  sagen,  da  nach  einem  Abschnitt  iiber 
South  Leverton  in  Thorotons  '  History  of  Nottinghamshire1 *) 
die  Sampsons  Ende  des  16.  und  besonders  Anfaiig  des  17. 
Jahrhunderts  dort  sehr  bekannt  waren.  Ausser  einer  Notiz 
vom  Jahre  1575  namlich,  in  der  ein  Alexander  Sampson  genannt 
wird,  haben  \vir  eine  andere  vom  Jahre  1612,  in  der  drei  Gentle 
men  desselben  Familiennamens  init  den  Vornamen  Thomas, 
Henry  und  William  angefuhrt  werden.  So  konnen  wir  wohl 
annehmen,  dass  auch  unser  Dramatiker  dort  geboren  ist,  viel- 
leicht  sogar,  dass  jener  William  Sampson,  einer  der  '  owners 
of  South  Leverton  town ',  sein  Vater  war.  Noch  zwei  jiingere 
Sampsons  von  dort  sind  uns  nach  den  Epitaphien  bei  Thoroton 
bekannt,  zwei  Briider  William  und  Henry,  die  Sidney  Lee  als 
Solme  des  Dichters  anspricht.  Allein  das  ist  ohne  weiteres 
nicht  anzunehmen  :  beide  sind  in  einer  Zeit  geboren,  da  Samp 
son  nach  dem  Affidavit  schon  in  Rlsley  war  —  nach  1628  2). 
Willoughby  aber  erwiihnt  ihn  auch  i653  noch  als  seinen  servant 
in  dem  Testament  : 

hee  the  said  Sir  Henry  Willoughby  did  in  and  by  his  said  last  Will 
and  Testament....  giue...  To  his  servants  Henry  Smith...  William 
Sampson...  Michaell  Cowle  so  much  blacke  Cloath  as  to  make  them 
suites  and  cloakes...  3) 

Auch  wissen  wir,  dass  er  Testamentsvollstrecker  war.  Also 
noch  i653  ist  er  in  '  Risley  in  the  County  of  Derby',  wo  er  schon 
1628  und  auch  1649  war  4).  Sollte  es  da  nicht  ein  anderer  Wil 
liam  Sampson  gewesen  sein,  der  Vater  der  beiden  in  '  Leverton 


4)  ed.  Throsby.  Nottingham,  1790.  Ill,  271. 

2)  Henry  1629  ?  und  William  i635. 

3)  Add.  Ms.  6688  f.  142  S.  4. 
<)  cf.  Affidavit. 


iii  the  County  of  Nottingham  '  gcboreneii  "Briiiler  und  Gatte  der 
'  Helen,  daughter  of  Gregory  Vicars  '  war  ? 
Nur  wenn  wir  das  annehmen,  lost  sich  auch  die  Frage  betreffs 

Sampsons  Ehe irgend  einer  von  all  den  Namensvettern  aus 

South  Leverton,  der  auch  William  Mess,  kanii  sehr  wolil  i636 
gestorben  sein  als  Gatte  Helens.  Dass  i636  von  des  Dramati- 
kers  *  widow '  nicht  die  Rede  sein  kann,  wurde  schon  gezeigt. 
Von  seiner  '  Gattin '  erfahren  wir  etwas  wenigstens  aus  Wil- 
loughbys  Testament.  Auf  Seite  4  unseres  Manuscripts  heisst 
es  von  dem  Verschiedenen  :  '  (And  further  thereby  did  giue) 
to  Mrs  Smyth  and  Mrs  Sampson  either  of  them  Mourning 
gownes...  '  Also  i653  lebteii  beiden  Gatteii  und,  wie  wir  gleicli 
sehen  werden,  ihre  Tochter  Hanna  ;  sie  alle  sind  in  dem  Tes 
tament  erwalmt. 

Hanna  Sampson  muss  die  Vertraute  von  Sir  Henry  Wil- 
loughby  gewesen  sein.  Die  Stellen  des  Testaments,  die  sie 
angehen,  lauten  (Seite  4  und  5)  : 

(And  further  thereby  did  giue...)  To  Hanna  Sampson  the  disposeing 
of  all  his  weareing  Cloathes  and  all  that  belongs  to  him  as  well  wool 
len  as  lynnen  with  the  Cloathes  and  Truncks  they  were  in  To  the 
said  Hanna  Sampson  his  Ruby  hatband  with  studds  of  gold  and  his 
Case  of  Silver  Instrumts...  (Seite  5.)  And  further  the  said  Sir  Henry 
Willoughby  did  declare  in  and  by  his  said  last  Will  and  Testam1 
that  in  case  any  of  his  plate  were  left  after  his  debts  were  paid  and 
funeralls  discharged  then  his  minde  and  will  to  be  that  the  said  plate 
and  what  ever  was  left  should  be  equally  distributed  amongest  his 
three  daughters  the  plate  to  be  divided  by  the  said  Hanna  Sampson 
amongest  them  as  in  a  perticuler  hee  had  told  her... 
Hanna  Sampson  ist  von  Willoughby  am  reichsten  von  alien 
Erben  bedacht  worden  und,  was  den  Haushalt  angeht,  Voll- 
streckerin  seines  letztenWillens,  sogar  semen  eigenenTochtern 
gegeniiber.  Wir  liaben  es  hier  zweifellos  mit  Sampsons  Tochter 
zu  tun,  denn  auf  derselben  Seite  4,  auf  der  von  ihr  als  '  Hanna 
geredet  wird,  findet  sich  auch  der  zitierte  Satz  von  der  '  Mrs 
Sampson  ',  was  Sidney  Lee  allerdings  nicht  gesehen  zu  haben 
scheint  —  wenn  er  liberhaupt  das  Manuscript  eingesehen  hat. 
Deshalb  nimmt  er  Hanna  nur  zogernd  als  Sampsons  Tochter 
an  —  er  weiss  nicht,  wie  sie,  dereii  Vater  nach  seiner  Ansiclit 
schon  i636  gestorben  war,  i653  zu  Sir  Henry  Willoughby 
kommen  sollte.  Wir  gehen  wohl  nicht  felil,  wenn  wir  unserem 


Dichicr  /war  cine  TnHiter  Hanna,  nicht  aber  zwei  Solme 
/usohreiben,  von  clenen  wir  wissen,  dass  sie  in  South  Leverton 
das  Liclit  der  Welt  erblickt  habeu.  Denn  das  intime  Verhiiltnis 
der  Sampsons  zu  ihrein  Herrn,  wie  es  aus  dem  Testament  klar 
•hervorgeht,  macht  es  lioehst  wahrsclieinlich,  dass  mindestens 
von  1628  an  William  Sampson  mit  seiner  Familie  stiindig  in 
Risley  weilte. 

Noch  zwei  kleine  Verbesserungen  sind  bei  Sidney  Lee  vor- 
zunehmen.  Willoughbys  Tod  ist  nicht  1649,  sondern  i653  einge- 
treten.  Das  gelit  aus  dem  zitierten  Anfang  und  folgender  Stelle 
unserer  Klageschrift  hcrvor  : 

(pag.  7)  And  ymediately  after  the  said  Will  soe  made  the  said 
Sir  Henry  Willoughby  dyed... 

Dann  findet  sich  Sampsons  liingeres  Gedicht  Loues  Meta 
morphosis  :  or  :  Apollo  and  Daphne  nicht  Harl.  Ms.  6949 
(4i),  sondern  6947  (42),  und  zwar  pag.  3i8-336. 

Wenn  ich  das  Besprochene  zusammenfasse,  so  ist  folgendes 
an  wichtigen  Daten  fur  Sampsons  Leben  im  Dictionary  of 
Xational  Biography  richtig  zu  stellen  :  Sampson  hat  gelebt  von 
1600  bis  mindestens  i655.  Von  spiitestens  1628  an  bis  i653  war 
er  in  Diensten  von  Sir  Henry  Willoughby  of  Risley  in  the 
County  of  Derby,  wo  er  init  seiner  Gemahlin  und  Tochter 
Hanna  lebte.  Das  Verhaltnis  seiner  Familie  zu  dem  Herrn  war 
ziemlich  vertrauter  Natur,  was  ja  auch  aus  der  warmen  Wid- 
muug  unseres  Dramas  an  Mrs.  Anne  Willoughby,  die  Tochter 
des  Herrn,  hervorgeht.  Ausser  von  Hanna  haben  wir  keine 
Kunde  von  Samspons  Kinderu.  Die  beiden  in  South  Leverton 
geborenen  Briider,  William  und  Henry,  sind  schwerlich  seine 
Solme. 

Die  Werke  William  Sampsons  sind  bei  Sidney  Lee  zusam- 
mengestellt.  Es  sind  drei  Dram  en  zunachst  : 

i)  '  Herod  and  Antipater '  Trag.  1622  ;  by  Gervase  Markham 
and  William  Sampson.  (British  Museum  :  Press  Mark 
644  b  67).  Nach  dem  Diet,  of  Nat.  Biogr.  soil  sie  schon 
etwa  1612  entstanden  sein.  Ich  glaube  mit  F.E.  Schelling 
und  Joseph  Quincy  Adams  l),  dass  es  sich  bei  dieser 


*)  vgl.  des  letzteren  Aufsatz  :  Every  Woman  in  Her  Humor  and  The 
Dumb  Knight  in  Modem  Philology  10  January  1918.  S.  4*4  uutl  4a7« 


—    10    — 

Angabe  vim  einen  Druckfehler  liandelt,  so  dass  statt  1612 
1621  als  Entsteliimgsjahr  in  Betracht  kame.  1612  1st 
schon  deshalb  unmoglich,  well  ja  Sampson  erst  1600 
geboren  1st,  niclit  i5go,  wie  man  friiher  annalim. 

2)  '.  The  Vow-Breaker.' 

3)  '  The  Widow's  Prize.'  Com.  i653  am  9  Sept.  in  den  Sta 

tioners  '  Registers  zum  Druck  freigegeben.  Das  Stuck  ist 
nicht  erhalten,  wie  schon  erwalmt  wurde. 
Dann  besitzen  wir  an  Gedichten  von  Sampson  iioch  : 

1)  Eine  Gedichtsammlung  '  Virtus  post  Funera  vivit '  1686  1). 

2)  Ein  langeres  Gedicht  '  Loues  Metamorphosis  or  Apollo 

and  Daphne  '.  (noch  ungedruckt). 


l)  Im  Britischen  Museum  sind  zvvei  Exemplare  :  G  n555  und  1076  i  27. 


The  Vow-Breaker 

or 
The  Faire  Maide  of  Clifton. 


Die   Entstehung   des    Dramas. 

Es  1st  schwer  zu  bestimmen,  warm  Sampsons  '  Vow  Breaker  ' 
entstanden  1st,  da  uns  nur  das  Datum  des  Druckes  i636  als 
Anlialtspunkt  geboten  wird.  Mitteilungen  von  Zeitgenossen 
iiber  das  Stuck  fehlen  uns,  und  aus  seinem  Inhalt  erfahren  wir 
nichts,  was  entsclieidend  fiir  die  Datierung  ins  Gewicht  fiele, 
weder  in  der  Haupt-  noch  in  der  Nebenhandlung. 

Dass  die  Haupthandlung  auf  eine  Ballade  zuriickgelit  - 
beider  Verhiiltnis  zueinander  werde  ich  spater  genauer 
beleuchten  — ,  bringt  uns  nicht  weiter  :  wir  haben  aucli  das 
Datum  der  Ballade  nicht.  Schelling  J)  meint,  ein  zweiteiliges 
Drama  '  Black  Bateman  of  the  North  '  von  Chettle,  Dekker, 
Drayton  und  Wilson  sei  Vorlage  fiir  unser  Stuck  gewesen.  Das 
Doppeldrama  ist  bei  Henslowe  erwahnt,  aber  nicht  erhalten, 
kommt  also  fiir  unseren  Zweck  nicht  in  Betracht. 

Die  historische  Nebenhandlung  nun  ist  auch  durchaus  uner- 
giebig  fiir  uns.  Dass  Sampson  Anstoss  damit  erregte,  war  nicht 
beabsichtigt.  Er  kniipfte  an  die  Haupthandlung  an  :  sie  spielte 
wie  die  Ballade  in  Clifton  in  Nottinghamshire  —  so  musste 
auch  die  Nebenhandlung  etwas  mit  Clifton  zu  tun  haben.  Er 
dachte  da  sofort  an  die  bekannte  Familie,  die  ihren  Namen  von 
dem  Orte  herleitet.  Als  Sheriffs  von  Nottinghamshire  sind 
zwei  Edelleute  aus  der  Familie,  beide  Sir  Gervase  Clifton 
geheissen,  1672  bezw.  1610  in  Dickinsons  *  History  of  Newark  '  *) 
verzeichnet.  Und  einer  desselben  Namens  hatte  einst  unter 
Elisabeth  im  Felde  wacker  kampfend  am  Ruhme  Englands 
mitgearbeitet. 


1)  Elizabethan  Drama.  I,  348  u.  II,  546. 

2)  Newark  i8iG.  Seite  34i,  343. 


—    12    — 


Diesen  wahlte  sich  Sampson  zum  Helden  seiner  Nebenhaiid- 
lung.  Er  suchte  im  Holinslied  nacli  seinem  Namen  und  fand 
ihn  im  zweiten  Regierungsjahre  der  jungfraulichen  Queen  Bess. 
So  kam  er  dazu,  die  Belagerung  von  Leith  dramatiscli  vorzu- 
fiihren,  ein  Stuck  englisch-schottisch-franzosischer  Geschichte, 
das  Anfang  des  17.  Jalirlmnderts  niclit  so  reclit  passte.  Warum 
gerade  jetzt,  da  eben  die  beiden  Kronen  von  England  und 
Scliottland  auf  einem  Haupte  vereinigt  waren,  die  Kampfe 
zwisclien  Schotten-Englandern  und  Schotten-Franzoseii  vor- 
fiihren,  wozu  jetzt,  da  eben  scliottische  Konige  auf  Englands 
Thron  sassen,  die  grosse  Elisabeth  so  feiern  ?  —  so  fragte  man 
sich.  Aber  Sampson  kamen  diese  Fragen  garniclit  in  den  Sinn. 
Ankeiner  Stelle  des  Dramas  werden  die  religioseii  Verhiiltnisse 
in  Scliottland  beleuchtet,  die  zur  Belagerung  von  Leitli  fiihrten, 
an  keiner  Stelle  wird  auf  die  Ahnlichkeit  mit  den  religiosen 
Wirren  in  Scliottland  zu  Sampsons  Zeit  hinge wiesen.  Im  Anfang 
des  Dramas  wird  von  Clifton  fiir  einen  Feldzug  nach  Scliottland 
geworben.  Von  der  Veranlassung  dazu  horen  wir  kein  Wort. 
Hauptsache  ist,  dass  wir  mit  Clifton  ins  Feld  ziehen.  Es  ist 
klar  :  die  ganze  Nebenhandlung  ist  einfach  eine  Dramatisierung 
von  Taten  dieses  einen  Helden. 

Das  erkliirt  auch,  weshalb  Sampson  in  dem  '  Prologue  to 
Censurers '  auf  deren  Einwande  gegen  die  Nebenhandlung 
keine  rechte  Antwort  weiss  : 

Their  Magistracy  laught  at !  as  if  now 

What  Ninty  Yeeres  since  dy'd,  afresh  did  grow  : 

To  those  wee  answer,  that  ere  they  were  borne, 

The  story  that  we  glaunse  at,  then  was  worne 

And  held  authentick  :  and  the  men  wee  name 

Grounded  in  Honours  Prowesse,  Vertues  Fame.  (Zeile  n  ff.) 
Das  sagte  damals  nicht  viel,  und  fiir  unseren  Zweck  sagt  es 
garments. 

Wenn  wir  endlich  bedenken,  dass,  wie  wir  sehen  werden, 
als  Quelle  und  Vorbild  eigentlich  nur  Shakespeare  fiir  Sampson 
in  Betracht  kommt,  dessen  Werke  ihm  seit  1628  auch  gesam- 
melt  bequem  zuganglich  waren,  so  miissen  wir  es  aufgeben,  das 
Entstehungsjahr  genau  zu  bestimmen.  Es  ist  wohl  noch  in  den 
2oer  Jahren  zu  suchen.  Denn  nach  dem  Titelblatt  soil  das 
Stuck  '  diuers  times '  von  '  severall  Companies  '  aufgefiihrt 
worden  sein ;  es  muss  also  ein  ziemlicher  Zeitraum  zwisclien 


—  i3  — 

Abfassung  und  Druck  gelcgen  habeii.  Wer  mit  den  '  severall 
Companies '  gemeint  1st,  habe  ich  nicht  feststellen  konnen  ; 
das  Drama  1st  in  keinem  der  Repertoires  verzeiclinet, 
die  in  Maas  '  ')  '  Ausserer  Geschichte  der  Englischen  Theater- 
truppen  '  zusammengestellt  sind  ;  auch  Murray  *)  gibt  uns 
keinen  Aufsckluss  dariiber. 

Die   Quellenfrage. 
Die    Ballade    '  Bateman's   Tragedy  '. 

Im  vorigeii  Kapitel  wies  ich  schon  darauf  hin,  dass  '  The 
Vow-Breaker '  auf  eine  Ballade  zuriickgeht.  In  Ritsons  Samm- 
lung  '  Ancient  Songs  and  Ballads  ' 3)  findeii  wir  sie  unter  dem 
Titel  *  Bateman's  Tragedy  '.  Der  Balladensammler  fiigt  hinzu  : 
'  The  full  title  of  the  old  copy  is,  A  Godly  Warning  for  all 
Maidens,  by  the  Example  of  Gods  Judgement  shewed  upon  one 
Jermans  Wife  of  Clifton,  in  the  County  of  Nottingham,  who, 
lying  in  childbed,  was  born  away,  and  never  heard  of  after.  A 
tragedy  entitled  '  The  Vow  Breaker ',  written  by  one  William 
Sampson,  and  printed  in  1686,  is  founded  on  this  ballad,  and 
quotes  two  or  three  verses  from  it,  as  '  a  lamentable  new 
ditty  ".  Zum  Vergleich  mit  unserem  Drama  mag  sie  hier  nach 
Ritson  abgedruckt  werden  : 

You  dainty  dames,  so  finely  fram'd 

Of  beauty s  chiefest  mold, 
And  you  that  trip  it  up  and  dowh, 

Like  Lambs  in  Cupids  fold, 
Here  is  a  lesson  to  be  learn'd  ; 

A  lesson,  in  rny  mind, 
For  such  as  will  prove  false  in  love, 

And  beare  a  faithless  mind. 

Not  far  from  Nottingham,  of  late, 

In  Clifton,  as  I  hear, 
There  dwelt  a  fair  and  comely  dame, 

For  beauty  without  peer  ; 
Her  cheekes  were  like  the  crimson-rose  ; 

Yet,  as  you  may  perceive, 
The  fairest  face,  the  falsest  heart, 

And  soonest  will  deceive. 


*)  Maas  in  Bangs  Materialon  XIX. 

2)  English  Dramatic  Companies.  London,  1910. 

3)  London,  1829. 


This  gallant  dame  she  was  belov'd 

Of  many  in  that  place 
And  many  sought,  in  mariage-bed, 

Her  body  to  embrace  ; 
At  last  a  proper  handsome  youth, 

Young  Bateman  call'd  by  name, 
In  hopes  to  make  a  married  wife 

Unto  this  maiden  came. 

Such  love  and  liking  there  was  found. 

That  he,  from  all  the  rest, 
Had  stol'n  away  the  maiden's  heart, 

And  she  did  love  him  best  : 
Then  plighted  promise  secretly 

Did  pass  between  them  two, 
That  nothing  could,  but  death  itself, 

This  true  loveknot  undo. 

He  brake  a  piece  of  gold  in  twain, 

One  half  to  her  he  gave  ; 
The  other,  as  a  pledge,  quoth  he, 

Dear  heart,  myself  will  have. 
If  I  do  break  my  vow,  quoth  she 

While  I  remain  alive, 
May  never  thing  I  take  in  hand 

Be  seen  at  all  to  thrive. 

This  passed  on  for  two  months  space 

And  then  this  maid  began 
To  settle  love  and  liking  too 

Upon  another  man  : 
One  Jerman  who  a  widower  was, 

Her  husband  needs  must  be, 
Because  he  was  of  greater  wealth, 

And  better  in  degree. 

Her  vows.and  promise  lately  made 

To  Bateman  she  denied  ; 
And  in  despite  of  him  and  his 

She  utterly  defied. 
Well  then,  quoth  he,  if  it  be  so, 

That  you  will  me  forsake, 
And,  like  a  false  and  forsworn  wretch, 

Another  husband  take, 

Thou  shalt  not  live  one  quiet  hour, 

For  surely  I  will  have 
Thee  either  now  alive,  or  dead, 

When  I  am  laid  in  grave  : 
Thy  faithless  mind  thou  shalt  repent  ; 


—  i5  — 

Therefor  be  well  assur'd, 
When,  for  thy  sake,  thou  hear'st  report 
What  torments  I  endur'd. 

But  mark  how  Bateman  died  for  love, 

And  finish'd  up  his  life, 
That  very  day  she  married  was, 

And  made  old  Jermans  wife  ; 
For  with  a  strangling  cord,  god  wot, 

Great  moan  was  made  therefor, 
He  hang'd  himself  in  desperate  sort 

Before  the  brides  own  door. 

Whereat  such  sorrow  pierc'd  her  heart, 

And  troubled  sore  her  mind, 
That  she  could  never,  after  that, 

One  day  of  comfort  find  ; 
And  wheresoever  she  did  go, 

Her  fancy  did  surmise 
Young  Batemans  pale  and  ghastly  ghost 

Appear'd  before  her  eyes. 

When  she  in  bed  at  night  did  lie, 

Betwixt  her  husbands  arms, 
In  hope  thereby  to  sleep  and  rest 

In  safety  without  harms  ; 
Great  cries  and  grieves  groans  she  heard, 

A  voice  that  sometimes  cried  l) 
O  thou  art  she  that  I  must  have 

And  will  not  be  denied. 

But  she  [then]  being  big  with  child, 

Was  for  the  infants  sake, 
Preserved  from  the  spirits  power, 

No  vengeance  could  it  take  : 
The  babe  unborn  did  safely  keep 

As  god  appointed  so, 
His  mothers  body  from  the  fiend 

That  sought  her  overthrow. 

But  being  of  her  burden  eas'd, 

And  safely  brought  to  bed, 
Her  care  and  grieve  began  anew 

And  farther  sorrow  bred  : 
And  of  her  friends  she  did  intreat, 

Desiring  them  to  stay  ; 
Out  of  the  bed,  quoth  she,  this  night, 

I  shall  be  born  away. 


<)  said 


_  16  — 

Plere  comes  the  spirit  of  my  love, 

With  pale  and  ghastly  face, 
Who  till  he  bear  me  hence  away, 

Will  not  depart  this  place  ; 
Alife  or  dead  I'm  his  by  right, 

And  he  will  surely  have, 
In  spite  of  me  and  all  the  world, 

What  I  by  promise  gave. 

O  watch  with  me  this  night,  I  pray  ; 

And  see  you  do  not  sleep  : 
No  longer  than  you  be  awake 

My  body  can  you  keep. 
All  promised  to  do  their  best ; 

Yet  nothing  could  suffice 
In  middle  of  the  night  to  keep 

Sad  slumber  from  their  eyes. 

So  being  all  full  fast  asleep, 

To  them  unknown  which  way, 
The  child-bed-woman  that  woeful  night, 

From  thence  was  born  away  ; 
And  to  what  place  no  creature  knew, 

Nor  to  this  date  can  tell  : 
As  strange  a  thing  as  ever  yet 

In  any  age  befell. 

You  maidens  that  desire  to  love, 

And  would  good  husbands  choose, 
To  him  that  you  do  vow  to  love 

By  no  means  do  refuse  : 
For  god,  that  hears  all  secret  oaths, 

Will  dreadful  vengeance  take 
On  such  that  of  a  wilful  vow 

Do  slender  reckoning  make. 

Der  Vergleicli  mit  uiiserem  Drama  zeigt  sofort,  dass  Samp 
son  jeden  Zug  der  Ballade  iibernoinmeu  hat.  Allein  er  brauclit 
mehr  zu  einem  fiinfaktigeii  Drama  als  nur  den  Stoff  dieser 
seiner  Quelle.  So  fiigt  er  hiiizu,  was  er  notig  hat,  oder  lindert 
gelegentlich.  Zunaclist  bringt  er  ein  anderes  Ballademnotiv  in 
sein  Stuck  hinein,  den  in  den  Krieg  ziehenden  Liebhaber,  der 
seine  Geliebte  als  Treulose  in  den  Arm  en  einer  anderen  findet, 
als  er  nacli  ruhmreiclien  Taten  zu  ilirzuriickkelirt.  Sampson  tut 
das,  urn  eine  Verbindung  mit  der  Nebenhandlimg  herzustellen. 
In  Schottland  bei  der  Belagerung  von  Leith  tut  sicli  Young 
Bateuiau  liervor  —  so  wird  die  Nebenhandlung  angesponnen. 


—  17  — 

Xachher  wird  sic  selbstiindig  weitergefiihrt ;  schou  vou  der 
/weiten  Scene  des  zweiten  Aktes  an  sorgt  Bateman  nicht  mehr 
fiir  die  Verbindung  der  beiden  Handlungen.  Der  Dramatiker 
muss  eben  seine  fiinf  Akte  fiillen  :  in  der  Kriegshandlung 
stehen  ihm  handelnde  Personen  bequeni  zur  Verftigung. 

Ein  ander  Mai  liisst  er  einfacli  eine  allerdings  recht  wenig 
liandelnde  Person  verschwinden,  weil  er  nichts  mehr  mit  ihr 
anzufangen  weiss.  Es  ist  German,  ein  alter,  reicher  AVitwer 
nach  der  Ballade,  alt  und  reich  bei  Sampson  zweifellos  auch, 
aber  wolil  auch  als  Witwer  gedacht,  obwohl  es  an  keiner 
Stelle  klar  gesagt  wird.  Folgende  Bemerkung  aber  scheint 
darauf  hinzuweiscn  (Dr.  I,  4,  23)  :  *  You  follow  the  fashion  of 
our  Country  Knights  that  marry  yonr  old  London  Widowes.' 
Hier  wird  Anne  mit  den  country  Knights  und  German  mit  den 
old  London  Widowes  verglichen  —  nicht  eben  sehr  gliicklich. 
Dieser  German  nun,  der  in  der  Ballade  einfach  nicht  mehr 
genannt  wird,  nachdem  er  seine  Rolle  ausgespielt  hat,  wird 
bei  Sampson  auf  ganz  sonderbare  Weise  beseitigt.  Er  verliisst 
namlich  seine  Gemahliii  gleicli  am  ersten  Tage  nach  der  Hoch- 
zeitsnacht  und  geht  auf  zwolf  Monate  nach  Newcastle.  Die 
Geburt  des  von  ihm  gezeugten  Kindes  und  der  Tod  seiner  Gat- 
tin  bleibeu  ihm  wohl  unbekannt  —  wir  horen  nichts  mehr  von 
ihm.  Man  konnte  von  ihm  sagen,  wie  es  in  dem  ausfuhrlichen 
Titel  der  Ballade  heisst :  he  *  was  brought  away  —  vom  Dichter 
namlich  —  and  never  heard  of  after  '  !  Das  gilt  aber  bei  Samp 
son  nicht  von  dem  schonen  Madchen  selbst.  Er  weiss,  '  to  what 
place  she  was  born '  :  der  Geist  ihres  Bateman,  der  sich  ob 
ihrer  Uiitreue  erhangt  hat,  fuhrt  sie  durch  die  Fluten  des 
Trent  in  die  Unterwelt.  Ihr  Leichman  wird  bald  dem  betroffe- 
nen  Vater  gebracht,  der  nun  seine  Klage  mit  der  seines  Nach- 
barn  vereinigen  kann.  In  dem  beiderseitigen  Schmerz  urn  das 
einzige  Kind  reichen  sich  die  streitenden  Vater  die  Hand  zur 
Versolmung  —  wie  die  Montecchi  und  Capuletti. 

Bei  Sampson  ist  also  das  Motiv  der  streitenden  Familieu 
hinzngekommen.  Dock  lernen  wir  nur  die  Viiter  kenneu,  von 
den  Muttern  erfahreu  wir  garnichts.  Eine  Vertraute  in  Gestalt 
der  Ursula,  der  geschwtitzigen  Base,  ist  wenigsteus  der  Anna 
zur  Seite  gestellt,  und  ihr  selbst  steht  wieder  ein  Liebhaber, 
Miles,  gegeniiber.  So  haben  wir  zwci  parallele  Paare  :  Bate- 

2 


—  i8  — 

man-Anne  imd  Miles-Ursula;  das  eine  tragisch,  das  zweite 
komisch.  Ausser  dieseu  beiden  typischen  komisclien  Theater- 
figuren  Ursula  und  Miles  sorgen  nocli  Anuas  Freundinnen 
und  Young  Batemaus  Bekannte,  die  Handwerker,  fur  den 
notigen  Humor ;  aucli  sie  sind  standige  Buhnentypen. 

Sampson  hat  also  aus  der  Ballade  dadurch  ein  Drama 
gemacht,  dass  er  zu  den  Balladeiitypen,  bei  ilim  die  Hauptper- 
sonen,  eclite  Dramenfiguren,  die  Nebeiipersonen,  hinzugefiigt 
hat.  Kerne  einzige  seiner  Gestalten  zeigt  individuelle  Ziige  - 
ein  Zeichen  fiir  seinen  Mangel  an  Phantasie.  Wir  konnen  uns 
ihre  Wirkungauf  uns  leicht  denken.  Das  '  tragisclie  '  Geschick 
der  auf  die  Buhiie  verpt'lanzteii  Balladengestalten  riihrt  uns 
kaum,  der  derbe  Witz  der  Nebenpersonen  niclit  viel  mehr.  Wir 
vermissen  die  psychologische  Vertiefung,  besonders  in  der 
Haupthandlung.  Zwar,  ein  Ansatz  dazu  scheint  bei  Sampson 
der  Ballade  gegeniiber  vorhaiiden  zu  sein  :  die  Untreue  des 
Madchens  wird  etwas  mehr  begriindet.  In  der  Ballade  ist 
bloss  das  Geld  und  die  bessere  Stellung  Germans  der  Grund, 
Sampson  fugt  ja  den  Streit  der  Vater  hinzu,  '  who  never  could 
agree  till  both  of  them  were  drown'd  in  misery '  1).  Dadurch 
wird  uns  ja  wolil  der  Charakter  der  Anna  etwas  sympa- 
thischer,  aber  nur,  um  uns  iiachher  ein  desto  grosseres 
psychologisches  Ratsel  aufzugeben.  Wie  kaiin  sie  Batemans 
Vater  und  ilireii  friiheren  Geliebten  selbst,  dem  sie  Treue  bis 
in  den  Tod  geschworen  hat,  bei  dem  Anblick  seiner  Leiche  so 
schmahen?  Wir  verstehen  es  nicht.  Charakteristik  und  psycho 
logische  Erklarung  ist  eben  nicht  Sampsons  Starke. 

l)  cf.  Prologue  to  Censurers. 


Sampson  und  Holinshed. 


Almlich  wie  die  Personeii  der  Haupthandlung  unseres  Dra 
mas  lassen  sich  auch  die  der  Nebenhandhmg  charakterisieren, 
die,  wie  wir  sahen,  fast  nichts  mit  der  eigentlichen  Vow- 
Breaker-Handluiig  zu  tun  hat.  Aucli  hier  findeii  wir  nur  Typen, 
wenii  wir  von  Clifton,  dem  Helden,  abseheii  -  -  ich  meine 
nicht  Typcn  im  engeren  Sinne,  wie  die  Person  en  der  Haupt 
liandlung,  sondern  Theaterfiguren  ohne  Leben,  Menschen 
oline  Fleisch  und  Blut,  Schatten.  Das  wundert  uns  freilich 
nicht  sehr  ;  denn  die  Quelle,  die  Sampson  fur  seine  Neben 
handlung  benutzt  hat,  Holinshed,  bringt  weiter  nichts  als 
Namen,  und  der  Dramatikor  stellt  keine  Personlichkeiten 
dahinter.  Er  richtet  bich  in  allem  genau  nach  der  Chronik,  und 
oft  nimmt  er  ganze  Stellen  wortlich  hiniiber.  Dabei  verfiihrt  er 
mit  der  Zeit  nicht  so  genau,  sondern  dehnt  die  kurze  Spanne, 
die  nach  Holinshed  vom  Miirz  i56o  bis  zum  Frieden  von  Leith 
am  7.  Juni  i56o,  also  ein  gutes  Vierteljahr,  wiihrt,  zu  einer 
Zeit  aus,  in  der  ein  schoncs  Madchen  sich  verloben,  untreu 
werden,  sich  wieder  verloben  und  verheiraten  kann.  Das  ist 
nodi  nicht  so  merkwiirdig.  Dass  aber  das  Miidchen  in  dem- 
selben  Vierteljahr  ausserdem  ihren  ersten  Geliebten  in  den  Tod 
treibt,  dem  angetrauten  Gatten  eine  Tochter  schenkt  und  sicli 
am  Ende  '  haunted  by  Bateman's  Ghost '  im  Trent  ertriinkt  — 
das  ist  schon  nicht  mehr  so  leicht  zu  fassen.  Sampson  denkt 
dariiber  nicht  nach  ;  Hauptliandlung  und  Nebenhandlung  gehen 
parallel  nebeneinander  her,  ohne  sich  zu  beruliren.  Bei  der 
Abfassung  des  Stiickes  denkt  er  immer  nur  an  die  eine  Hand- 
lung,  die  ihn  gerade  beschtiftigt,  um  die  andere  kummert  er 
sich  erst  wieder  von  der  nachsten  zu  ihr  gehorigen  Scene  ab. 
Dass  er  auch  in  der  Kriegshandlung  einmal  ein  Ereignis  zeit- 
lich  falsch  stellt,  will  nicht  viel  sagen.  Nach  Holinshed  koinmt 
Arguile  mit  seinen  2000  Schotten  erst  am  6.  Mai,  wiihrend 
Tronibull  schon  am  5.  April  von  der  Regentin  von  Schottlaiid 


20    — 

zu  den  Englandern  geschickt  wird.  Bei  Sampson  kommt 
'  Trumball ',  nachdem  eben  am  selben  Tage  Arguile  eingetrof- 
fen  1st.  Sonst  geht  er  aber  selir  genau  uach  Holinshed  vor. 

Die  Veranlassung  zum  Zuge  nach  Schottlaiid  lasst  er  fort. 
Sie  1st  bei  Holinshed  ')  so  dargestellt  :  '  Anno  Reg  2  (i56o)  :  In 
the  meane  time,  through  controuersie  raised  betwixt  the  Scot 
ish  nobilitie,  and  the  queene  Dowager  of  Scotland,  which 
chanced  espaciallie  about  matters  of  religion,  certaine  of  the 
lords  there  minding  a  reformation  therein  ;  and  the  queene 
resisting  them  to  hir  power,  in  purpose  to  mainteine  the  old 
popish  religion,  which  some  name  catholicke  ;  diuerse  compa 
nies  of  souldiers  and  men  of  war  were  sent  out  of  France  into 
Scotland  to  aid  the  said  queene,  where  they  were  placed  in 
diuerse  townes  and  forts,  to  the  high  displeasure  of  the  more 
part  of  the  Scotish  nobilitie '.  Die  Lords  schliessen  sich  jetzt 
gegen  die  Regeiitin  zusammen  —  das  sind  die  '  federary  Lords  ' 
unseres  Dramas.  '  The  Scots  ',  sagt  Holinshed  welter,  '  sue  to 
the  queens  malestie  of  England  for  aid  against  the  French  '. 
Und  eine  weitere  Randbemerkung  lautet  :  '  The  queens  rnaies- 
tie  determineth  to  aid  the  Scots '.  Hier  setzt  unser  Drama  ein. 
Clifton  wirbt  Soldaten,  erne  Scene,  zu  der  Holinshed  unsereni 
Dramatiker  naturlich  keineii  Anhalt  bot.  Nun  zieht  er  nach 
Norden,  und  in  der  folgenden  Scene  der  Kriegshandlung  sind 
wir  schon  vor  Leith,  das  den  verbiindeten  Schotten  und  Fran- 
zosen  abgenommen  werden  soil.  Von  hier  aus  werden  die 
schottischen  Geiseln  nach  England  geschickt.  Lord  Grey  of 
Wilton,  der  Anfiihrer  der  Englander,  liest  Hire  Namen  vor 
(Dr.  I,  3,  18-22).  Holinshed  registriert,  zum  Teil  ergiinzend 
(vgl.  die  Namen)  : 

(IV,  192)  The  same  dale  (=  5.  April)  the  Scotish  hostages  were 
imbarked  to  passe  into  England  : 

(IV,  190)  The  lord  Claud  Hamilton  fourth  sonne  vnto  the  duke  of 
Chateau  le  reault ;  Robert  Douglas  halfe  brother  to  the  lord  lames 
Steward,  Archebald  Campbell  lord  of  Longhennell,  George  Gream 
second  sonne  to  the  earle  of  Menteith,  lames  Coningham,  sonne  to 
the  earle  of  Glencarne. 

Einer  der  Federary  Lords,  Arguile,  hat  sich  schon  mit  2000 
Schotten  zu  Grey  gesellt.  Es  werden  aber  noch  weitere  Ver- 
starkungen  erwartet  (Dr.  I,  3,  28-80) . 

d)  Neudruck  London  1807,  IV,  S.  188. 


H.    IV,    196  :  This  daie  (Mondaie  the  sixt  of  Male)    the    earle  of 

Argile,  and  diuerse  other  noble  men  of  Scotland,  came  to  Edenburgh 

with  two  thousand  horssemen  and  footmen... 
H.  IV,  198  :  Wednesdaie  the  fifteenth  of  Maie,  sir  Francis   Leake 

came  to  the  campe  with  a  supplie  of  fiue  hundred  men  from  Bar- 

wicke. 

Inzwischen  hat  die  Kegentin  von  Schottland  oinen  Boten 
abgeschickt,   der   um  eine   Unterredung  mit   den   onglisehen 
Lords  bitten  soil  (Dr.  I,  3,  5o-65). 
H.  IV,  191  :  At  their  comming  thither  (Lestericke  bei  Leith),  Trom- 

bull,  the  queene  regents  trumpet,  came  to  my  lord  lieutenant,  and 

brought  with  him  a  safe  conduct,  given  under  hir  hand  and  scale, 
•  for  the  safe  repaire  of  sir  lames  Croft,  sir  George  Howard,  and 

six  others  to  accompanie  them.  Where  vpon  they  preparing  them- 

selues  to  go  to  hir  they  departed  towards  Edenburgh,  where  the 

said  queene  as  then  laie  within  the  castell. 

Wahrendder  Verhandlungen  soil  Waffenstillstaud  herrscheii 
(Dr.  I,  3,  66-68),  aber  die  Franzosen,  '  constant  in  nothing  but 
Inconstancy  ',  brechen  unversehens  hervor.  Lord  Grey  fordert 
sie  auf,  sicli  zuriickzuziehen.  Aber  sein  Bote  Crosse  kann  ilnn 
als  Antwort  der  Franzosen  nur  melden,  dass  sie  zum  Angriff 
iibergegangen  sind.  Grey  lasst  auf  das  Bombardement  der 
Feinde  antworten,  und  es  entsteht  ein  Geinetzel,  in  dein  die 
Franzosen  ziemliche  Verluste  erleiden,  wahrend  die  Engliinder 
nur  eineii  Mann  verlieren  (Dr.l,  3,  96-110  und  121-137).  Holins- 
heds  Bericht  ist,  zum  Teil  etwas  abweichend,  folgender  (IV, 


Whilest  they  were  in  conference  with  the  queene,  although  an 
abstinence  of  all  hostilite  by  appointment  taken  betwixt  my  lord 
Greie  and  the  said  queene  ought  to  haue  ceassed,  the  Frenchmen  to  a 
number  of  nine  hundred,  or  a  thousand  shot,  backed  with  fiue  hundred 
corselets  and  pikes  and  about  fiftie  horssemen,  were  come  foorth  of  Leith, 
under  the  conduction  of  monsieur  Doisell,  and  the  counte  Martigues,  coronell  *) 
of  the  French  footmen.  My  lord  Greie  understanding  thereof,  came 
vp  to  the  hill,  appointed  an  officer  at  armes  called  Rouge  Crosse,  to 
go  vnto  them,  with  commandement  from  him,  that  they  should  retire 
their  forces  forth  of  the  field  into  the  towne  of  Leith  :  for  if  it  were 
not  for  the  promise  which  he  had  made  to  the  queene  Dowager,  he 
would  cause  them  to  depart,  not  much  to  their  ease.  The  herald 
dooing  his  message,  receiued  answer,  that  they  were  upon  their 
maister  and  mistresse  ground,  and  therefore  meant  not  to  remooue 


!)  Die  hervorgehobenen  Worte  entspreclien  fast  genau  Sampsons  '  Ver- 
sen '  96-99 : 

Nine  hundred  shot,  and  five  hundred  Corslets, 
Came  forth  of  Leith,  under  the  conduct 
Of  Mortigue,  and  Doysells,  their  Colonells. 


—    22    — 


from  it.  Rouge  Crosse  returning  with  this  answer,  was  sent  againe 
from  my  Lord  lieutenant,  to  command  them  eftsoons  to  go  their  way 
backe  to  Leith  :  for  if  they  did  not,  he  would  suerlie  send  them  awaie 
with  a  mischiefe. 

But  scarse  had  the  herald  doone  this  second  message,  when  the 
Frenchmen  stepping  foorth,  discharged  a  whole  volee  of  their  shot 
into  the  field  against  my  lord  Greie  and  his  companie.  Hereupon,  the 
Englishmen  and  they  fell  in  skirmish,  which  continued  for  the  space 
of  foure  houres  and  more,  so  hot  and  earnestlie  maintained  on  both 
parts,  that  the  like  had  not  lightlie  beene  scene  many  a  daie  before. 
Yet  at  length,  the  Englishmen  droue  the  French  footmen  ouer  the 
hill,  wan  the  crag  from  them,  and  put  them  from  a  chappell,  where 
they  had  stood  a  great  while,  using  it  for  a  couert  and  safegard  for 
them  against  the  Englishmens  shot... 

To  conclude,  they  (the  Frenchmen)  were  put  from  their  ground, 
and  forced  to  retire  into  Leith,  being  followed  welneere  to  the  verie 
gates  of  that  towne.  There  were  slaine  in  this  skirmish  of  the  French, 
about  a  seuen  score,  and  amongst  them  twelue  men  of  name,  besides 
some  of  them  that  remained  prisoners.  (Of  the  Englishmen,  there 
were  also  diuerse  slaine,  and  manie  hurt.) 

Einzelheiten  des  Gefeclits  sind  bei  Sampson  nur  in  den 
Bei'ehlen  Greys  (I,  3,  126-6)  angedeutet.  Bei  Holinshed  heisst  es 
geuauer  (IV,  191)  : 

Then  the  enemies  that  were  in  Leith  shot  off  diuerse  peeces  of  their 
great  artillerie  out  of  the  towne  against  the  Englishmen,  who  on  the 
other  part  brought  foorth  two  field  peeces,  and  couered  them  with  a 
troope  of  horssemen  ;  and  hauing  planted  them  to  some  aduantage, 
discharged  the  same  among  the  enemies  :  who  perceiuing  that,  gaue 
place,  and  suddenlie  the  English  dimilances  gaue  a  charge,  brake  in 
amongst  them,  and  slue  diuerse. 

Sampson  hat  den  breiten  Bericht  des  Chronisten  stark 
kondensiert,  aber  fast  nichts  unbenntzt  gelassen.  Manchmal 
1st  er  so  kurz,  dass  er  olme  Holinshed  unverstandlich  bleibt. 
Ohne  ilm  versteht  man  z.  B.  nicht,  was  mit  '  the  Crag,  and 
Chappell '  (Dr.  I,  3,  128)  gemeint  ist,  da  beide  bei  Sampson 
an  dieser  Stelle  zum  ersten  Mai  genannt  werden.  Holinshed 
gibt  uns  Aufschluss  :  '  the  chapel '  kennen  wir  aus  dem  eben 
zitierten  Bericht,  von  '  the  crag '  spricht  er  schon  IV,  190/191  ; 
es  ist  ein  '  crag  called  Arthurs  seat  ',  der  sicli  eine  lialbe 
Meile  von  Lesterike,  dem  Lager  der  Englander  vor  Leith, 
entfernt  befindet. 

Die  Franzosen  aber  sinnen  immer  auf  neue  Falschheit  und 
List.  Jetzt  schleichen  sicli  neun  aus  ihrer  Reiheals  schottische 
Weiber  verkleidet  in  das  feindliche  Lager.  Plotzlich  fallen  sie 
iiber  die  Englander  her,  von  denen  sicli  einige  leichtfertiger- 


—    23    — 

weise  mit  den  '  nine  stout  Viragoes  '  abgegeben  habeu,  ergrei- 
fen  einen  und  kopfen  ihn.  Dass  die  Anfiihrer  der  Franxoseii 
selbst,  Mortigue  und  Doisells,  auch  diese  kleine  Truppe  kom- 
mandieren,  ist  befreindlichund  nicht  von  Holinshed  berichtet ') 
(Dr.  II,  i,  1-7  und  n4-u5)  : 

H.  IV,  192  :  The  same  dale  (Sundaie  the  fourteenth  of  Aprill, 
being  Easter  daie),  nine  Frenchmen  apparelled  like  women,  came 
foorth  of  Leith,  and  counterfeiting  some  like  demeanor  to  the  appa- 
rell  wherein  jthey  were  disguised,  trained  one  of  the  English  skouts 
within  their  danger,  whome  they  tooke,  and  chopped  oft  his  head, 
which  they  set  vpon  the  top  of  one  of  their  church  steeples. 

Die  als  Gemahlin  des  franzosischen  Koiiigs  Franz  II. 2)  in 

Frankreich  weilende  Konigin  von  Schottland,  Maria  Stuart, 
hort  von  den  Verwustungen  der  vor  Leith  liegcnden  Truppen 
ihrer  konigiichen  Verwandten  3)  Elisabeth  und  schickt  '  Mon- 
lucke,  Bishop  of  Valens  ',  zu  ihrer  Mutter  in  Edinburgh,  der 
mit  dieser  iiber  den  Frieden  mit  England  und  den  schottischen 
Lords  beraten  soll.Er  muss  dabei  natiirlich  durch  das  englische 
Lager  hindurch  ;  hier  wird  er  empl'angen  und  unversehrt  hin- 
durcligeluhrt.  (Dr.  Ill,  3,  i-io  und  12-33). 

H.  IV)  193  :  Sundaie  the  one  and  twentith  of  Aprill,  the  bishop  of 
Valence  named  Monluc  came  to  Lesterike....  After  they  (die  Eng- 
lander)  had  receiued  him  with  salutations  according  unto  the  man 
ner,  he  was  conducted  by  Rouge  Crosse  the  officer  of  armes  from  the 
campe  into  Edenbuigh,  and  so  went  up  to  the  castell  to  conferre  with 
the  queene  Dowager. 

Aber  die  Unterredung  mit  der  Regentin  hat  nicht  zum  Frie 
den  gefiihrt.  Man  schreitet  zur  Erstiirmung  von  Leith.  Fiir  die 
Schilderung  des  Sturmes,  die  ziemlich  eingehend  ist,  seheiiit 
der  Dramatiker  ausser  Holinshed  noch  eine  andere  Quelle 
benutzt  zu  haben.  Im  wesentlichen  aber  folgt  er  dem  Chro- 
nisten  (Dr.  IV,  i,  g-65) : 

H.  IV,  196  :  In  the  morning  by  too  of  the  clocke  the  seuenth  of 
Maie  being  tuesdaie  diuers  bands  passed  foorth  towards  the  towne, 
and  entring  the  ditches  offered  the  scale  :  other  capteins  with  their 
men  approched  the  bulworks,  and  other  there  were  appointed 
to  enter  beside  the  mils.  Beside  the  English  bands  commanded 

*)  Eckhardt  in  semen  '  Dialekttypen  '  a.  a.  O.  irrt  sich,  worm  er  sagt : 
Ein  wenig  bekaunter  Dramatiker,  William  Sampson,  liisst  in  seinem 
Stuck  '  The  Vow  Breaker '  2  Engliinder,  Mortiguo  und  Dovsells,  sich  eine 
Zeitlaug,  um  uiierkaimt  zu  bleiben,  1'iir  Schotten  uusgeben,  wobei  Doysells 
/ugleich  in  Frauenkleidung  auftritt. 

2;  3)  cf.  Anmerkungen  zu  unserem  Drama. 


thus  to  give  the  assault,  there  were  a  thousand  Scots  joined  with  them, 
whereof  nue  hundred  with  capteine  Vaughan,  and  such  other  capteins 
as  were  commanded  to  attempt  the  bulworke  next  to  Montpelham, 
and  other  nue  hundred  went  with  such  of  the  English  capteins  as 
were  commanded  to  assault  the  breach  beyond  the  water.  Moreover,  as 
well  the  lances  as  light  horssemen  were  assigned  to  gard  the  fields  : 
sir  George  Howard  with  the  lances  keeping  betwixt  the  fort  of  Mont 
pelham  and  the  sea  westward,  and  sir  Henrie  Persie  with  the  light 
horssemen  betwixt  the  campe  and  the  sea  eastward.  The  rest  of  the 
footmen  that  went  not  to  the  assault,  were  also  appointed  to  gard  the 
trenches  and  field,  in  such  wise  as  was  thought  expedient.  So  that 
perfect  direction  was  giuen  in  euerie  behalfe  by  the  lord  lieutenant, 
and  other  of  the  councell.  And  upon  warning  giuen  by  capteine  Ran 
dall   sergeant  maior,   such  as  had  beene   commanded  to  give  the 
assault  in  their  seuerall  appointed  places,  preased  forward  with  cou 
rage  inough,  and  boldlie  aduentured  to  clime  the  wals,  and  enter  at 
the  breaches,  but  yet  their  attempt  wanted  the  wished  success  :...  by 
reason  of  the  vnfitnesse  of  the  ladders,  being  too  short  by  two  yards 
and  more,  the  assailants  wrere  repelled.  For  during  the  whole  time  of 
the  assault,  which  continued  for  the  space  of  an  houre  and  a  halfe,  the 
French  shot  oft  their  flankers,  and  maintained  their  shot  from  the  wals 
so  thicke,  that  it  seemed  a  verie  hell  for  the  time.... 

But  yet  neuerthelesse,  manie  there  were  that  entred  the  towne  in 
sundrie  places,  of  the  which  some  came  backe  againe,  although  others 
were  beaten  downe  and  slaine.  To  conclude,  at  length  all  that  escaped 
with  life,  were  forced  to  retire  with  the  losse  of  seauen  or  eight  score 
Englishmen,  some  haue  said  two  hundred,  which  were  slaine 
outright,  beside  those  that  were  wounded,  being  in  number  at  the 
least  two  or  three  hundred  :  and  amongst  other,  there  were  diuerse 
capteins  and  gentlemen  that  were  hurt,  as  sir  Thomas  Hesketh,  mas 
ter  Sutton,  master  Newport,  master  Conweie,  capteine  Wood,  Tho 
mas  Fitton,  with  others. 

Es  1st  genug  Blut  vergossen  worden,  Friedensverliandlungen 
werden  angeknupft.  England  und  Frankreich  liaben  je  eine 
Kommission  gebildet.  Sie  gebieten  jede  fur  Hire  P.artei  Waffen- 
stillstand  fur  die  Dauer  der  Verhandlungen.  (Dr.  IV,  i,  81-98). 

H.  IV,  198  :  The  thirteenth  of  lune,  sir  William  Cicill,  principal 
secretaire  to  the  queenes  maiestie,  and  doctor  Wotton  deane  of  Can- 
terburie  and  Yorke  came  to  Barwicke,  appointed  commissioners  on 
hir  said  maiesties  behalfe,  to  treat  of  an  accord  with  the  conte  de  Kan- 
don,  and  the  bishop  of  Valence,  commissioners  sent  for  that  purpose 
from  the  French  king,  and  his  wife  Marie  queene  of  Scotland... 

On  saturdaie  the  sixt  of  June,  the  lord  Greie  lord  lieutenant,  master 
secretaire  Cicill,  and  sir  Ralfe  Sadler,  betwixt  three  and  foure  of  the 
clocke  in  the  afternoone,  gaue  order  that  there  should  no  peece  be 
shot,  nor  shew  of  hostilitie  made  till  seauen  of  the  clocke  the  same 
night ;  and  herewith  sent  sir  Geruis  Clifton  vnto  all  the  souldiers  that 
warded  in  the  trenches  and  bulworks  on  the  west  side  of  Leith,  to 
command  them  to  obserue  the  like  order. 


Das  Resultat  dor  Yerhandlungen  1st  der  Friede  von  Leith. 
Die  Stadt  wird  den  Englandern  geoffnet,  und  die  Artikel  wer- 
den  bekannt  gegeben  (Dr.  V,  i,  12-54). 

H.  IV,  199  :  The  peace  now  in  the  meane  time  being  concluded,  on 
the  morrow  being  sundaie,  and  seauenth  of  lune,  sir  Francis  Leake, 
and  sir  Geruis  Clifton,  accompanied  with  two  French  gentlemen, 
were  sent  to  the  towne  of  Leith,  to  signifie  vnto  monsieur  Doisell,  the 
bishop  of  Amiens,  la  Brosse,  Martigues,  and  other  the  French  lords 
and  capteins,  that  they  were  come  thither  by  commandement  from 
the  commissioners,  to  cause  the  peace  alreadie  concluded  to  be  pro- 
clamed  :  which  accordinglie  was  doone  in  maner  as  followeth.  The 
most  mightie  princesse,  Elizabeth  by  the  grace  of  God,  queene  of 
England,  France,  and  Ireland,  defender  of  the  faith,  &c  :  and  the 
most  Christian  king,  Francis  and  Marie,  by  the  same  grace  of  God 
king  and  queene  of  France  and  Scotland  :  haue  accorded  upon  a 
reconciliation  of  a  peace  and  amitie  to  be  inuiolablie  kept,  betwixt 
them,  their  subjects,  kingdomes  and  countries.  And  therefore  in  their 
names  it  is  strictlie  commanded  to  all  maner  of  persons  borne  vnder 
their  obeisances,  or  being  in  their  seruice,  to  forbeare  all  hostilitie 
either  by  sea  or  land,  and  to  keepe  good  peace  each  with  other  this 
time  forwards,  as  they  will  answer  therevnto  at  their  uttermost  perils. 

(IV,  200)  But  now  concerning  the  articles  of  the  peace,  being  about 
thirteene  in  all,  the  cheefest  may  seeme  to  rest  heerein,  that  the 
French  souldiours  and  men  of  warre  should  depart  out  of  the  realme 
of  Scotland  within  a  short  time  limited  of  twentie  daies,  as  Ludouico 
Guiciardini  hath  noted  ;  six  score  of  them  onlie  excepted,  as  three 
score  to  abide  in  Insketh,  and  three  score  in  the  castell  of  Dunbar, 
they  to  be  answered  their  wages  at  the  hands  of  the  estates  of  Scot 
land,  and  to  be  subiect  vnto  the  lawes  and  ordinances  of  that  realme. 
That  the  fortifications  about  Leith  should  be  razed  and  demolished  : 
and  likewise  the  fort  which  had  beene  built  and  raised  before  the  castell 
of  Dunbar  by  the  French,  for  a  strength  thereto.  That  the  Frenchmen 
should  not  conueie  into  Scotland  anie  men  of  warre,  or  munitions 
without  consent  of  the  parlement  assembled  of  three  estates  of  that 
realme.  That  the  king  and  queene  of  France  and  Scotland  should  not 
from  thensefoorth  beare  the  armes  of  England,  sith  the  same  apper 
tained  onelie  to  the  queens  maiestie  of  England  and  to  no  other 
person. 

Der  letzte  Teil  dieses  Bericbtes  ist  bei  Sampson  fast  wortlich 
in  Versen  zu  lesen.  Der  Dramatiker  ist  also  nicht  nur  inhalt- 
lich,  sondern  manchmal  auch  formell  von  seiner geschichtlicheu 
(^uclle  abliaugig  —  das  dcutete  icli  bben  schon  in  einer  Anmer- 
kung  an  (cf.  Dr.  I,  4,  96-99).  An  dieser  Stelle  kann  icli  die  Verse 
nicht  so  glatt  aus  Holinslied  lierausheben  wie  icli  es  oben  in 
dem  kleinen  Beispiel  tat.  Deshalb  stelle  icli  sie  ilirem  Original- 
wortlaut  gegeniiber  (Dr.  V,  i,  34-53) ;  die  Artikel  des  Vertrags 
lauten  also  bei  Sampson  so  : 


-    26   — 

That  the  French  Souldiers,  and  all  men  of  warre 
Leave  the  Realme  of  Scotland  in  twenty  dales, 
Six  score  Souldiers  onely  are  excepted, 
Three  score  of  them  to  remaine  at  Inskeith, 
And  three  score,  at  the  Castle  of  Dun-barr, 
Their  wages  to  be  paid  from  the  estates 
of  Scotland  ;  and  to  live  lawfull  subjects 
To  the  Lawes,  and  ordinances  of  that  Realme  ; 
All  fortifications  in,  or  about  Leith 
Which  by  the  French  was  built  shalbe  defaced  ; 
That  France  conveigh  not  any  man  of  warre 
Nor  ammunition  into  this  Land, 
Without  a  free  consent  in  Parliament 
Of  the  three  estates  of  these  great  Kingdomes. 
That  Francis  and  Mary,  King,  and  Queene  of  France, 
From  henceforth  beare  not  the  Armes  of  England 
Which  solely  appertaine  to  our  dread  Mistris, 
The  Queene  of  England,  and  to  no  other. 

Auf  beiden  Seiten  1st  man  hocherfreut  iiber  den  endgiiltigen 
Frieden,  und  Mortigue  bietet  seinem  eliemaligen  Feinde  Clif 
ton,  der  ihn  in  einem  Zweikampf  besiegt  hat  —  eine  Scene,  die 
Sampson  seinem  Helden  Clifton  zuliebe  unabhangig  von 
Holinshed  einfiigte  l)  —  von  seinen  noch  vorliandenen  Delika- 
tessen  an,  ein  Anerbieten,  das  Clifton  gerne  annimmt.  Natiir- 
lich  sind  aber  diese  Delikatessen  der  ausgeliungerten  Stadt 
etwas  eigenartigen  Charakters  (Dr.  V,  i,  58-6i  und  116-128). 

H.  IV,  200  :  Immediatelie  after  this  proclamation  was  ended,  sir 
Francis  Leake  and  sir  Gerueis  Clifton  were  brought  to  monsieur 
Doisels  lodging,  where  was  prepared  for  them  a  great  banket  of 
thirtie  or  fortie  dishes  :  and  yet  not  one  either  of  flesh  or  fish,  sauing 
one  of  the  flesh  of  a  powdred  horsse,  as  a  certaine  person  hath  written 
that  tasted  thereof,  as  he  himselfe  auoucheth. 

Die  Franzosen  sind  bereit,  das  Land  zu  verlassen ;  Elisabeths 
Truppen  ziehen  nacli  England  zuriick,  und  die  Belagerung  von 
Leith  hat  ein  Ende  (Dr.  V,  i,  n5  und  141). 

H.  IV,  201 :  After  that  the  Frenchmen  were  departed...,  the  queens 
maiestie  called  backe  hir  armie  without  reteining  anie  peece  within 
Scotland  to  hir  owne  vse. 

Soweit  gelit  Sampson  nach  Holinshed  vor  —  von  dem,  was 
nun  nocli  im  Drama  1'olgt,  Elisabeths  Besucli  in  Nottingham, 
weiss  der  Chronist  nichts.  Wir  begegnen  in  den  letzten  Scenen 
einer  interessanten  TJnterhaltung  zwischen  der  Konigin  und 


cf.  Dr.  II,  3. 


—  27  — 

<lcni  Hiirgcrmoister  der  Stadt  iiber  die  Schiffbarmaehung  des 
Trent  und  sind  zuletat  Zeugen  einer  wirksamen  Massenscene,  in 
der  Elisabeth  den  Helden  von  Leith  fiir  ihre  Taten  dankt, 
\\ulu-end  sie  von  ihnen,  besonders  von  Clifton,  begeistert 
gepriesen  wird. 

Von  diesen  Schlussscenen  abgesehen  bietet  Sampson  uns  den 
dramatisierten  Holinshed  mit  wenigen  Zutaten  in  seiner  Neben- 
haiullung  unseres  Dramas.  Dass  er  ganze  Partien  fast  wort- 
lich  iibernimmt  und  mitkleinen  Variationen  als  Verse  druckt, 
/eigt  uns,  wie  wenig  es  ihm  hier  auf  Eigenes  ankomrat. 
Wenn  er  trotzdem  einiges  iindert,  so  tut  er  es  kaum,  urn  die 
IN-rsonen  plastischer  hervortreten  zu  lassen.  Er  stellt  uns  die- 
sclben  Holinshedsclien  leblosen  Clironikhelden  vor,  keine 
Mensclien  von  Fleisch  und  Bein.  Nur  cine  Ausnahme  muss  her- 
vorgehoben  werden,  Sampsons  Held  Clifton.  Er  lebt,der  biedere 
Alte  mit  seiner  Tapferkeit  und  seinem  Patriotismus,  der  derbe 
Haudegeii  mit  seinen  '  Nottinghamshire  boys  ',  der  mit  hoch 
und  niedrig  gleich  gut  fertig  wird,  der  begeisterte  Stock- 
engliinder,  der  schon  unter  Heinrich  VIII.  gefochten,  und  dem 
jetzt  der  blosse  Gedanke  an  seine  Bess  das  Herz  holier  schlagen 
Kisst.  So  fand  Sampson  ilm  iiicht  in  der  Chronik  —  in  Notting 
hamshire  selbst  sammelte  er  wohl  das  Material  zu  dieser 
Gestalt. 


Sampson  und  Artemidor. 


Habenwir  bisher  die  tragisch-heroische  Seite  unseres  Stiickes 
in  bezug  auf  ilire  nichtdramatisclien  Quellen  betrachtet,  so 
fassen  wir  jetzt  seine  komische  Seite  etwas  nalier  ins  Auge, 
wobei  wir  wieder  zwisclien  Haapt-  und  Nebenkandlung  scliei- 
den.  Reclit  viel  Humor  in  der  Hauptliandlung  zunachtst  will 
Sampson  dem  Publikum  in  der  Scene  kurz  nacli  der  Geburt 
des  Madchens  bieten  (Dr.  IV,  2),  fur  uns  eine  Scene  von  fast 
unertraglicher  Abgeschmacktlieit.  Hier  wird  oft  Artimedorus 
zitiert  —  gemeint  ist  Artemidorus  Daldianus,  ein  Traumdeuter, 
dessen  Lebenszeit  Krauss  l)  in  der  Einleitung  zu  seiner  Uber- 
setzung  des  Griechen  i35-2oo  n.  Clir.  ansetzt.  Natiirlicli  hat 
Sampson  das  griecliische  Original  niclit  benutzt,  sondern  das 
wenige,  was  er  tatsiiclilicli  aus  Artemidor  iibernommen  hat, 
aus  einer  englischeii  Ubersetzung  geschopft;  vieles,  was  er 
als  Zitat  des  Griechen  bringt,  ist  niclit  edit,  wie  wir  sehen 
werden.  Schon  i563  lag  nach  Krauss  '  A  pleasaunt  Treatise 
of  the  interpretation  of  sundrie  dreames  gathered  parte  out  of 
the  woorcke  of  the  Learned  Philosopher  Ponzettus  and  parte 
out  of  Artemidorus  by  Tli.  Hill.  Lond.'  vor,  ein  Werk,  das  1644 
auch  in  8°  erschienen  sein  soil.  Vielleicht  meint  Krauss  '  The 
Interpretation  of  Dreames'  by  R.  W.,  London  i644>  die  Uber 
setzung  von  Artemidor,  die  mir  vorgelegen  hat  —  eine  andere 
konnte  ich  niclit  einsehen.  Jedenfalls  muss  eine  englische 
Ubersetzung  vorhanden  gewesen  sein,  bevor  Sampson  sein 
Drama  zu  schreiben  anfing,  so  dass  er  daraus  schopfen  konnte. 
Nur  wenn  wir  das  annehmen,  lasst  sich  folgende  Schwierigkeit 
aus  dem  Wege  riiurnen.  Im  4-  Akt,  Scene  2,  i54  heisst  es  :... 
*  looke  you,  Gossip  Barren,  could  you  once  dream e  of  sore  eies 
you  should  be  sure  of  children '.  Das  heisst  bei  Artemidor  2) 


4)  Symbolik  der  Traume.  Leipzig,  1881 
2)  ed.  Hercher.  Leipzig,  1864. 


Buch  I,    Cap  26  :  tptfc  Si  e'yeiv  d-sOaXtAO'j;  TI  Tsaaapa;  r,  x«llcXefev9t< 


7-£pl  sv  aiojjLa  irXetovec  eaovT-x'.  o-iOaXtj.cn.  Es  stimmt  alles  dem 
Sinne  iiacli  bis  auf  '  sore  eies  '  statt  '  drei,  vier  oder  mehrere 
Augen  '.  Wie  kommt  Sampson  dazu,  '  sore  eies  '  zu  schreiben? 
Er  denkt  schwerlich  an  eine  andere  Stelle  des  Artemidor, 
wo  wirklich  von  Augenleiden  gesproclien  wird.  Da  1st  die 
Deutung  des  Traumes  eine  gauz  andere  (Artemidor,  Buck  IV, 
Cap.  24)  I  v-w  Yuv*l  e'^ocjs  TOC  oupata  aJ.yav.  evo'aiQjav  autt)?  ol  uaT§£<;.  Sell!' 
wohl  kann  liier  aber  von  dem  Dramatiker  das  Versehen  aus 
eiiier  englischen  Quelle  mit  hini'ibergenornmen  worden  sein  — 
die  Ahnlichkeit  der  damaligen  Drucktypeii  von  f  und  s  (/,  f) 
mag  den  Trrtum  erklilren.  Hiitte  er  die  Stelle  aus  dem  griechi- 
selien  Original  libersetzt,  so  miisste  sie  etwa  lauten,  wie  sie 
spiiter  (1644)  richtig  bei  R(ob.)  W(ood)  zu  lesen  steht  :  '  To  have 
three  or  foure  Eyes  to  him  that  determines  to  take  a  Wife, 
and  hath  no  children  and  desires  to  have,  it  is  good.  ' 

Diese  Ubersetzung  von  R.  \V.  '  The  Interpretation  of  Drea- 
mes  '  soil  auch  weiterhin  zum  Vergleich  mit  Sampsons  Drama 
herangezogen  werden.  Sie  bietet  mimlich  ein  paar  Mai  frap- 
pante  Ahnlichkeiten  mit  dem  Text  uaseres  Stlickes.  Vielleicht 
haben  wir  es  gar  mit  einer  spiitereii  Ausgabe  von  Sampsons 
Quelle  zu  tun,  die  er  als  '  Booke  of  Dreames  ',  '  The  Modernes' 
und  '  The  Problems  '  zitiert  l)  —  icli  wiisste  wenigstens  nicht, 
was  sonst  man  heute  unter  Artemidors  '  Modernes  '  und  '  Pro 
blems  '  verstehen  koniite.  Tatsiichlicli  fiilirt  Sampson  aus  dem 
3.  Buche  der  *  Modernes  '  eine  Stelle  an,  die  ieh  in  Artemidors 
'  Onirocriticon  '  Buch  III,  Cap.  16  wiederfinde  (Dr.  IV,  2, 
1  34-1  36)  :  '  to  walke  on  the  Seas  specifies  to  a  man,  delight,  but 
to  a  woman  dissolute  life,  for  the  Sea  is  like  a  harlot,  a  glicery 
face  and  a  broken  heart.  '  Artemidor  Buch  III,  Cap.  16  in  der 
Woodschen  Ubertragung  lautet  : 

To  walke  upon  the  Sea. 

....  To  a  young  man,  this  dream  is  love  of  a  delightful!  woman,  to  a 
woman  it  is  dissolute  life  of  her  body,  for  the  Sea  is  like  to  a  harlot 
because  it  hath  a  fair  appearance  and  show,  but  in  the  end  she  brings 
many  to  evill... 


*)  The  fourth  edition  newly  corrected.  Br.  Mus.  E.  n58  (2). 


_  3o  — 

Iin  ersten  Buclie  des  Artemidor,  Cap.i4,  heisst  esuach  Wood : 
To  be  big  with  child  : 

He  which  hath  no  wife  shal  have  a  gentle  one. 

Das  lautet  bei  Sampson  so  (Dr.  IV,  2,  156-167)  : 

...  the  first  time  I  dream'd,  I  was  with  child,  I  got  a  husband  pre 
sently. 

Ich  habe  mich  bemiiht,  in  Artemidors  viertem  Buclie  fol- 
gende  Stelle  zu  finden  (Dr.  IV,  2,  7-10) :  ...  'an  Infants  smileing, 
and  a  Lambes  bleateing  is  a  signe  of  fertility  ;  it  is  so  in  Arti- 
medorus  ;  you  frown'd  when  you  were  borne,  and  thats  the 
reason  you  are  so  sterill  ;  Artimedorus  saith  so  in  his  fourth 
booke ', aber  es  ist  mir  nicht  gelangen.  Audi  die  anderen  Biicher 
weisen  niclits  von  solchen  Dingen  auf.  Vergeblich  wird  man 
auch  in  Artemidors  '  Onirocriticoii '  nach  folgendem  Zitat  aus 
den  '  Problems  '  suchen  (Dr.  IV,  2,  16-18)  :  '  Had  it  bene  man- 
child,  their  had  bene  three  evident  signes  of  an  whoremaster  ;  a 
Roman  Nose,  Cherry  Lip,  and  a  bald  Pate,  for  so  Artimedorus 
in  his  Problems. '  Nicht  besser  geht  es  tins  mit  dieser  Stelle 
(Dr.  IV,  2,  25  ff.)  :...  'itis  a  great  signe  of  frugality  if  the  Starrs, 
and  Planets  be  concordant,  for  saith  Artimedorus  ;  if  it  be 
borne  under  Venus,  it  will  be  faire  as  you  are,  if  under  Sol, 
Rich  as  you  are,  and  if  under  Mercurie  —  ...  and  saith  Arti 
medorus  in  his  third  booke  of  his  Modernes  ;  if  borne  under 
Castor,  and  Pollux,  store  of  children...  '  Wolil  spricht  Arte 
midor  von  Gottern  uiid  Gottinnen  uiid  legt  uns  dar,  inwieferii 
es  gunstig  oder  unguiistig  ist  von  dieser  oder  jener  Gottheit 
zu  traumen.  Wir  miissen  uns  aber  wundern,  dass  Sampson  den 
kleiaen  Diskurs  iiber  den  Einfluss  der  Konstellation  bei  der 
Geburt  eines  Meiischen  auf  dessen  Scliicksal  gerade  als  Arte 
midors  Weisheit  prasentiert  —  er  gibt  doch  nur  die  allgemeine 
Annahme  seiner  Zeit  wieder.  Audi  Shakespeare  hatte  iiber- 
all  in  seinen  Werken  auf  die  Beeinflussung  des  Menschenge- 
schicks  durch  die  Gestirne  hingewiesen  :  Parolles  muss  un- 
term  Mars  geboren  sein  —  er  sagt  es  ja  selbst,1)  und  Edmund 
sagt  im  Konig  Lear  I,  2,  40  :  '  and  my  nativity  was  under  Ursa 
major  ;  so  that  it  follows,  I  am  rough  and  lecherous.  '  Weitere 


!)  All's  well  thai  ends  well,  I,  i.  204  ff. 


—  3i  — 

Bi'ispiele  hat  Anders  l)  in  seinen  Werk  iiber  Shakespeare's 
Books  angefiihrt. 

Wohl  auch  nur  aus  Sampsons  eigener  Zeit  heraus  zu  ver- 
stehen  1st  ein  anderes  angebliches  Zitat  aus  Artemidor  —  jenes 
geistreiche  Gesprach  iiber  Vater  und  Mutter,  '  the  surer  side  ', 
'  a  very  facetious  point,  as  Artimedorus  in  his  booke  of  dreames 
sets  it  downe  '  (Dr.  IV,  2,  46  ff .).  Unser  Autor  wollte  eben  noch 
mehr  Pikantes  geben,  als  der  Grieche  ihm  bot,  und  brachte 
seine  eigene  Bemerkung  iiber  die  damaligen  wenig  erbaulichen 
^ittlichen  Zustande  unter  Arternidors  Namen.  Mother  Pratle, 
die  alle  diese  Dinge  zu  erziihlen  weiss,  wird  nicht  miide,  auch 
furderhin  alles,  was  sie  sagt,  mit  der  Bemerkung  :  '  just  as  Arti 
medorus  saitli '  oder  tihnlich  zu  belegen.  Sie  zahlt  eine  lange 
Liste  von  Speisen  auf,  die  alle  Triiume  hervorrufen  sollen 
(Dr.  IV,  2,  94  ff.) ;  sie  weiss,  dass  '  to  dreame  of  Flowers  is  very 
good  to  a  woman  in  child-bed  ;  it  argues  she  shall  soone  enjoy 
her  husband  '  (Dr.  IV,  2,  182),  sie  berichtet  uns  von  ihren 
Zwillingen,  und  wie  ein  Trail m  Hire  Geburt  angekiindigt  habe 
(Dr.  IV,  2,  161  ff.) ;  selbst  hierbei  kommt  sie  ohne  Artemidor 
nicht  aus,  schade  nur,  dass  wir  die  von  ihr  zitierten  Stellen 
nicht  belegen  konnen.  Zwar  spricht  unser  Traumdeuter  von 
vielen  Speisen,  aber  er  sagt  uns  bloss,  ob  es  vorteilhaft  ist, 
im  Traum  gewisse  Speisen  zu  verzehren.  Zwar  spricht  er  von 
Blumen,  aber  er  sagt  uns  bloss,  welche  Folgen  es  hat,  wenn 
man  von  Blumenkriinzen  traumt  —  von  Blumen  im  allgemeinen 
erziihlt  er  uns  nichts.  Die  Kriinze  aber  geben  ganz  andere 
Deutungen.  Angeregt  ist  Sampson  zweifellos  von  Artemidor  in 
all  diescn  Beispielen.  Etwas  mehr  als  eine  Anregung  haben  wir 
vielleicht  sogar  in  einem  etwas  unusthetischeren  letzten  Bei- 
spiel  ;  doch  ist  die  Ubereiustimmung  von  griechischem  Origi 
nal  und  unserem  Text  nicht  vollstandig  —  bei  Wood  fand  ich 
die  Stelle  nicht  verzeichnet.  Ich  stelle  darum  hier  Sampson 
uud  den  griechischen  Text  nebeneinder  (Dr.  IV,  2,  169  ff.) :  '  To 
dreame  to  have  Lyce,  eyther  in  head  or  body,  in  some  quantity 
signifies  a  proper  man  well  appointed. '  In  der  Kerch erschen 
Ausgabe  des  Artemidor  Buch  III,  Capitel  7  lesen  wir  : 


')  Scitc  34;  ff. 


—    32    — 

o'Xt'you*;    e/eiv  xal  eupt'axeiv  ev  -utji  (rtofxa-ct  T,  ev  TO^  Ipaniois  xat  TOUTOO<;  avaipetv 
ayaGov  •  Tracer);  yap  AuTtTjs  xal  eppovtCSo^  aTraXXayTjvat  irpoayopsuet  TO  ovap  * 

Das  meiste  also,  was  uns  von  Sampson  als  Artemidors  Eigen- 
tum  aufgetischt  wird,  1st  niclit  nachweisbar.  Him  kam  es  vor 
allem  auf  die  Wirkuug  seiner  Scene  an.  Da  daclite  er,  es  miisse 
sich  die  ewige  Wiederliolung  des  volleii  Namens  *  Artimedorus' 
in  dem  liumoristiscli  gedacliteii  Gewiisch  der  Mother  Pratle 
ganz  gut  ausnelnnen.  Die  ecliten  Proben  selbst,  die  wir  aus  der 
'  Symbolik  der  Traume  '  zu  lioren  bekommeu,  sind  im  Original 
garnicht  sclierzlial't,  denn  es  steckt  Geist  dali inter  ;  natiirlicli 
sollen  sie  aber  bei  Sampson  aucli  mit  dazu  beitragen,  die  Lacli- 
muskelii  der  Zuscliauer  in  Bewegung  zu  setzeii.  Deshalb  wahlt 
er  gerade  diese  sonderbaren  Traume  aus  der  grossen  Fiille 
der  bei  Arteinidor  verzeiclineten  lieraus.  Einnial  brauclit  er 
ein  Beispiel  fiir  seine  Zwecke  der  Deutung  des  Traumes  wegeii 
(Dr.  IV,  2,  184  ff.)-  Sonst  spielt  bei  Sampson  der  Kern  des 
Traumbuclies,  das  eigentliche  Traumdeuten  und  die  geistreiclie 
Begriindung  der  Auslegung,  gar  keine  Rolle.  Es  ist  scliade, 
dass  das  geistvolle  und  gelelirte  Buck  des  fleissigen  und  gewis- 
senhaften  Traumsammlers  und  -deuters  so  rnissbraucht  wurde. 
Der  weise  Grieche  passt  in  die  Gesellscliaft  der  zeclienden 
Weiber  nicht  hiiieiii.  Diese  komische  Sc^iie  unseres  Dramas 
kann  uns  niclit  sonderlicli  gef alien. 


Das  '  Painted  Cloth '  in  Sampsons '  Vow- Breaker '. 


Sampsons  Humor  kommt  recht  eigentlich  nur  in  der  Neben- 
liandlung  unseres  Dramas  zur  Gelttmg.  Wiihrendbloss  eine  lan- 
gere  komische  Scene  —  die  eben  besprochene  —  den  sclmellen 
Lauf  der  tragischen  Vow-Breaker-handlung  der  Ballade  einen 
Augenblick  aufhiilt,  finden  wir  zwischen  die  historischen 
Scenen  der  Kriegshandlimg  manche  komische  Intermezzi  einge- 
streut.  Ihr  Hauptheld  ist '  Marmadnke  Joshua,  aPainter-stainer 
by  Art  and  a  limner  by  profession',  wie  er  sich  selbst  vorstellt 
(Dr.  I,  2,  3g  ff.).  Als  soldier  kennt  er  das  'painted  cloth' 
sehr  genau.  Kein  Wunder,  dass  er  an  alien  moglichen  und 
unmoglichen  Stellen  auf  Bilder  und  Spriiche  anspielt,  die 
damals  allgemein  zur  Zierde  des  Heims  die  Wande  schmuckten. 
Wir  diirfen  aus  seinen  Worten  II,  i,  82  ff.  schliessen,  dass  die 
Fabel  vom  Fuchs  und  den  Weintraubeii  dargestellt  wurde,  und 
dass  dabei  die  Worte  zu  lesen  waren  : 

By  fortune  came  a  Fox  where  grew  a  pleasant  Vine, 
I  will  no  Grapes  said  the  Fox,  the  fruit  is  none  of  mine  1). 
Geschichten  vom  Fuchs,  dem  beliebten  Tier  aus  der  Fabel, 
scheiiien  iiberhaupt  gern  dargestellt  worden  zu  sein.  Wenn 
Joshua  feierlich  Gericht  halt  iiber  seine  bose  Katze,  wie  er  es 
aus  dem  painted  cloth  kennt  :  *  and  thus  I  ascend  to  judgment, 
as  it  is  in  the  painted  cloath...Tybert  the  Cat;  as  it  is  in  the 
painted  cloath  of  the  Bull  and  Cocke...'  (Dr.  Ill,  2,  40  ff.),  so 
denkt  er  zweifellos  an  Darstellungen  aus  dembekannten  Reinke 
Vos,  dessen  Ubersetzung,  eines  der  iiltesten  Biicher  Englands, 
ja  schon  Caxton  1481  als  '  The  History  of  Reynard  the  Fox ' 
druckte  2).  Auf  Tybert  the  cat  spielt  ja  auch  Shakespeare  ver- 
schiedentlich  an3);  in  Romeo  und  Julia  etwa  (II,  4,  18)  : 


*)  Im  Drama  als  fortlaufeude  Prosa  gedruckt. 

2)  Translated  and  printed  by  William  Caxton.  June  it 

3)  cf.  Anders,  Shakespeare's  Hooks. 


-  34- 

Ben.  Why,  what  is  Tj^balt"? 

Mer.  More  than  the  prince  of  cats. 

oder  111,  i,  78  : 

Mer.  Tybalt,  you  rat-catcher... 

Aus  Shakespeare  wissen  wir  auch,  dass  die  '  Nine  Worthies  ' 
zur  Dekoration  der  Wiinde  herhalten  mussten  1).  Aucli  Joshua 
erzahlt  von  ihiien  :  '  And  doe  they  fight,  as  it  is  in  the  painted 
cloth  of  the  nine  worthies,  of  Joshua,  Hector,  Caesar,  Arthur, 
Cliarle-Magne,  Judas  Machabeus,  and  Godfrey  Bollogine  ? 
(Dr. I,  3,  114  ff.)  Ausser  Judas  Machabeus  halt  er  wohl  auch 
Charle-Magne  oder  Godfrey  Bollogine  fur  ein  Doppelwesen  - 
oder  er  hat  sich  verzahlt. 

Eine  besondere  Specialitiit  von  Joshua  ist  das  Hersageii  von 
Wandspriichen,  die  sich  seinem  Gedachtnis  im  Laufe  der  Zeit 
unausloschlich  eingepriigt  haben.  Ich  stelle  sie  liier  zusammen  : 

II,  i,  73  ft',  unseres  Dramas  lieisst  es  : 

In  morning  still  when  thou  doost  rise,  see  that  in  minde  thou  have 

To  spend  the  day  that  doth  ensue  as  bed  might  be  thy  Grave. 

Dr.  II,  i,  86  ff.  : 

Be  meeke,  and  gentle,  and  thy  selfe  shall  finde 
A  quiet  conscience,  and  a  tranquill  minde. 

Dr.  Ill,  2,  20  ff.  : 

When  the  Cat's  away, 
The  Mouse  will  play. 
Dr.  Ill,  2,  22  ff.  : 

Beware  in  time,  for  too  much  patience 

To  Dog  or  Cat  will  breede  io  much  offence.  2) 

Wir  haben  es  liier  offenbar  mit  echten  Wandspriichen  aus 
Sampsons  Zeit  zu  tun  ;  so  liefert  diese  kleine  Zusammenstellung 
einen  interessanten  Beitrag  zur  Kunde  der  Wandpoesie  jener 
Tage,  die  manchmal  recht  erbaulichen  Charakters  gewesen  zu 
sein  scheint. 


*)  Love's  Labour's  Lost  V,  i>,  78. 

~)  Wie  die  oben  zitierteii  Septenare  sind  auch  diese  Verse  in  unserem 
Drama  alle  als  Prosa  gedruckt. 


Literarische  Einfliisse  :  Shakespeare. 
(Romeo  und  Julia). 


Als  iin  Jahre  i636  '*  The  Vow-Breaker  '  von  William  Sampson 
erschien,  lagen  Shakespeares  gesammelte  Werke  sclion  in  der 
zweiten  Ausgabe  vor,  jenem  Foliobande,  der  des  jungen  Milton 
begeisterte  Verse  als  '  An  Epitaph  on  the  Admirable  Dramatick 
Poet,  W.  Shakespeare '  enthielt.  Audi  Sampson  hatte  diesen 
'  admirable  dramatick  poet '  scluitzen  gelernt  und  seine  Werke  so 
fleissig  gelesen,  dass  ihm  maiiohcs  seiner  Worte  in  sein 
Drama  hineinl'loss.  Bewusste  und  unbewusste  Ankliinge  an 
seinen  grossen  Vorgiinger  lassen  sich  leicht  aufdecken. 

Shakespeare  war  Sampsons  Vorbild  zuniichst  in  dem  Aufbau 
wirksamer  Scenen.  Fiir  die  der  Haupthandlung  nimnit  er  sich 
meistens  Romeo  und  Julia  zum  Muster.  Die  Prologe  beider 
Dichter  weisen  sclion  auf  die  Ahnlichkeit  der  Situationen  hin. 
Beide  verraten  uns,  dass  sie  den  Zwist  und  die  Versohnung 
zweier  Familien  vorfiihren  werden,  die  nur  durch  den  Unter- 
gang  der  sich  liebenden  Kinder  aus  den  feindlichen  Hiiusern  zu 
Stande  kommt.  Bei  Shakespeare  (Prolog,  9  ff.)  l)  heisst  es  : 

The  fearful  passage  of  their  death-mark'd  love, 
And  the  continuance  of  their  parents'  rage, 
Which,  but  their  children's  end,  nought  could  remove, 
Is  now  the  two  hours'  traffic  of  our  stage. 

Sampson  in  *  The  Illustration  ',  der  Erkliirung  des  Holz- 
schnittes,  die  man  auch  als  Prolog  ansprechen  konnte,  sagt 
Zeile  5 : 

There  Parents  iarr'd,  and  never  could  agree, 
Till  both  of  them  were  dround  in  misery. 

Anders  als  bei  Shakespeare  sind  bei  Sampson  unter 
'Parents  '  bloss  die  Vater  zu  verstehen,  die  Mutter  lernen  wir 
garnichtkennen,wieich  friiher  sclion  hervorhob. Die  streitenden 
Parteieii  werden  nun  bei  beiden  Dramatikern  gleich  im  Anfang 
des  Stiickes  gegeniiber  gestellt,  bei  Shakespeare  mit  blanken 

*)  Ich  zitiere  nach  der  Globe-edition. 


—  36  - 

Waff  en,  bei  Sampson,  dem  Milieu  seines  Stiickes  entsprechend, 
bloss  mit  scliarfeii  Worten  (vgl.  Romeo  und  Julia  I,  i  und  Drama 
I,  i,  75  ff.).  Der  Vater  des  Madchens  will  in  beiden  Drainen 
diesem  einen  anderen  Gatten  als  den  Geliebten  aufdrangen  ;  der 
Erkorene  ilires  Herzens,  der  Sohn  des  Feindes,  darf  nicht 
den  gegnerischen  Grund  und  Boden  betreten  (vgl.  Romeo  und 
Julia  II,  2,  65  ff.  und  Dr.  II,  2,  81  ff.).  Julia  sagt  zu  Romeo,  der 
die  Gartenmauer  iiberstiegeii  hat,  um  zu  ihr  zu  gelangen  : 

The  orchard  walls  are  high  and  hard  to  climb, 

And  the  place  death,  considering  who  thou  art, 

If  any  of  my  kinsmen  find  thee  here. 

Etwas  unhoflicher  sagt  Anna  zu  Bateman,  als  dieser  sie 
nach  seiner  Riickkehr  aus  Schottland  in  die  Arme  schliessen 
will  : 

If  you  be  Bateman, 

T'  were  best  you  traveld  from  my  fathers  ground 

Least  he  indite  you. 

Die  Jiinglinge  fiirchten  aber  weder  Vettern  noch  Vater, 
wenn  die  Geliebte  bei  ilmen  ist.  Doch  Bateman  sieht  sich  bald 
in  seinem  Vertrauen  zu  Anna  getauscht  ;  sie  ist  ihm  untreu 
worden.  Das  will  er  den  Zweigen  des  Baumes  klagen,  unter 
dem  er  um  sie  warb  (Dr.  II,  l\,  56  ff.)  : 

...  oft  would  he  say 

He  woo'd  her  underneath  a  Plume-Tree, 
And  underneath  that  Tree  he  vow'd  to  sit, 
And  tell  his  sorrowes  to  the  gummy  boughes... 
Audi  Romeo  hatte  sich  ja  im  Feigenhain  seinen  Liebeskum- 
mer  vom  Herzen  geweint  (Romeo  und  Julia  I,  i,  187  ff.)  : 

Many  a  morning  hath  he  there  been  seen, 
With  tears  augmenting  the  fresh  morning's  dew, 
Adding  to  clouds  more  clouds  with  his  deep  sighs... 
Ohne  Geliebte  kann  Bateman  nicht  weiter  lebeii  —  lieber 
geht  er  in  den  Tod.  Das  tragische  Ende  des  Liebespaares  liisst 
die  Vater  einander  die  Hand  zur  Versohnung  reiclien,  und  sie 
beschliessen,  die  durch  ihre  eigene  Schuld  zu  Grunde  gerich- 
teten  Kinder  nach  Gebiihr  zu  eliren  —  just  so  wie  die  Mon- 
tecchi  und  Capuletti.  Wir  sind  am  Ende  der  Tragodie  von  Anna 
und  Bateman,  und  Sampsons  letzte  Worte  sind   (Dr.  IV,   2, 
3o5-6)  : 

For  never  was  a  story  of  more  ruth, 

Then  this  of  him,  and  her,  yet  nought  but  truth. 


-37- 

Shakespeares  letzte  Wortc  am  Schluss  seiner  Trag(")dic  von 
Romeo  uiid  Julia  iauten  (V,  Schluss  scene)  : 
For  never  was  a  story  of  more  woe 
Than  this  of  Juliet  and  her  Romeo. 

Der  Einfluss  von  Shakespeare  ist  unverkennbar.  Doch  ist  die 
Nachahmung  nur  cine  ganz  iiusserliche.  Tiefer  in  Shakespeare 
eiiigedrungen  ist  Sampson  nicht.  Das  zeigt  sich  besonders  auch 
in  den  Geisterscenen,  fiir  die  er  sich  '  Hamlet '  zum  Muster 
genommen  hat. 


Der  Geist  in  Shakespeares  HamletundSampsons 
Vow= Breaker. 


Wie  Singer  l)  in  seiner  Dissertation  sclion  hervorhebt,  stellt 
der  Geist,  der  in  unserem  Drama  erscheint,  das  schlechte 
Gewissen  Annas  dar  : 

Thou  now  hast  touch'd  the  point ; 

Tis  conscience  is  the  Larum  Bell,  indeede, 

That  makes  us  sensible  of  our  good  or  bad  !  (Dr.  III.  i,  48  ff.) 2) 

Er  ist  Sj^mbol  der  Gewissensqualen,  wie  etwa  der  in 
'  Macbeth  ',  '  Ricliard  III ',  '  Julius  Caesar  '  oder  der  *  Witch 
of  Edmonton  ',  um  nur  einige  Stiicke  aus  der  Liste  herauszu- 
heben,  die  Ankenbrand  3)  in  seiner  Abhandlung  '  Die  Figur 
des  Geistes  im  Drama  der  englisehen  Renaissance  '  zusammen- 
gestellt  hat.  Und'  doch  zeigt  Batemans  Geist  das  Gebahren 
einer  Shakespeareschen  Geisterersclieinung,  die  nicht  zu 
dieser  Klasse  gehort,  dafiir  aber  das  bekannteste  Beispiel 
bei  Shakespeare  ist  —  des  Geistes  von  Hamlets  Vater. 

Es  ist  sonderbar,  dass  Batemans  Geist,  wie  der  im  Hamlet, 
mit  dem  Hahnenschrei  in  die  Uiiterwelt  zuriickkehren  muss 
(Dr.  Ill,  i,  64  ff.)  : 

I  have  a  time  limited  to  walke, 
Vntill  the  morning  Cocke  shall  summon  me 
For  to  retire  to  misty  Erebus. 

Das  ist  sonderbar  ;  denn  er  lasst  Anna  doch  auch  bei  Tage 
keine  Ruhe,  iiberall  ivod  immer  ist  er  da  (Dr.  Ill,  i,  3  ff.)  : 
It  haunts  me  as  my  shaddow  or  a  vision  ! 
It  will  not  let  me  rest,  sleepe,  nor  eat. 

Sie  wundert  sich,  dass  sie  einmal  einen  Augenblick  Ruhe  vor 
ihm  hat  (Dr.  Ill,  i,  8  ff.)  : 

I  wonder  tis  not  here  ; 
This  is  a  gentle  respit,  and  not  usual!  ; 
Since  German  went  I  never  had  so  much. 

4)  Das  burgerliche  Trauerspiel  in  England.  S.  65. 

2)  Singer,  der  dieselbe  Stelle  zitiert,  halt  sich  iiberall  in  seiner  Abhand 
lung  streng  an  die  alte  Zeichenset/ung. 

3)  Seite  86. 


-  3g- 

I)enn  der  Geist  ruht  nicht,  bis  er  sie  mit  sicli  in  die  Wolmuiig 
der  Schatten  gefiihrt  hat  (Dr.  Ill,  i,  67  ff.)  : 

My  pilgrimage  has  no  cessation, 
Vntill  I  bring  thee  with  me  to  the  place 
Where  Rhadamant,  and  sable  ^Eacus  dwell. 
Dort  unten  aber  ist  es  schauerlich  (Dr.  Ill,  T,  71  ff.)  : 
To  tell  the  story  where  we  spirits  live 
Would  plucke  Vermilion  from  thy  Rosie  cheekes, 
And  make  them  pale,  as  Snowy  Apennines, 
And  from  thine  eies  draw  liquid  streames  of  teares 
More  full  of  issue  then  a  steepy  Fountaine. 

Das  Ganze  ist  eine  mechanische  Nachahmung  der  Shakes- 
peareschen  Hamlet-Geist-scene  im  fiinften  Auftritt  des  ersten 
Aktes,  daher  die  Inkonsequenz  in  der  Auffassung  des  Geistes  bei 
Sampson.  Der  Verlauf  der  ganzen  Scene  ist  bei  Shakespeare 
genau  vorgezeiclmet.  Nicht  iiur  muss  auch  der  Geist  von  Ham 
lets  Vater  mit  dem  Hahnensclirei  hinab  in  das  Reich  der 
Schatten  —  aucli  er  fiiidet  keine  Ruhe,  bis  der  schandliche 
Mord  geracht  ist  -  -  auch  er  konnte  eine  Schildenmg  seines 
Aufenthaltsortes  geben,  die  das  Menschenkind  vor  Entsetzen 
und  Grausen  starr  machen  wttrde.  Die  Shakespeareschen 
Parallelstellen  zu  imseren  Zitaten  siud  folgende  : 
Hamlet,  I,  2,  17  ff.: 

But  even  then  the  morning  cock  crew  loud, 

And  at  the  sound  it  shrunk  in  haste  away, 

And  vanished  from  our  sight. 
Hamlet  I,  5,  2  ff .  : 

My  hour  is  almost  come, 

When  I  to  sulphurous  and  tormenting  flames 

Must  render  up  myself. 
Hamlet  I,  5,  9  ff.  : 

I  am  thy  father's  spirit, 

Doom'd  for  a  certain  term  to  walk  the  night, 
And  for  the  day  confined  to  fast  in  fires, 
Till  the  foul  crimes  done  in  my  days  of  nature 
Are  burnt  and  purged  away.  But  that  I  am  forbid 
To  tell  the  secrets  of  my  prisonhouse, 
I  could  a  tale  unfold  whose  lightest  word 
Would  harrow  up  thy  soul,  freeze  thy  young  blood, 
Make  thy  two  eyes,  like  stars,  start  from  their  spheres,... 
Eine  ahnliche  Wirkung  ttbt  schon  der  blosse  Anblick  von 
Batemans  Geist  auf  die  erstarrte  Anna  aus  (Dr.  Ill,  i,  78  ff.)  : 
Distraction  like  an  Ague  seizes  me, 
I  know  not  whether  I  see,  here,  or  speake  ; 


-4o- 

My  intellectual!  parts  are  frozen  up 

At  sight  of  thee,  thou  fiery  Effigies 

Of   my  wrong'd   Bateman. 
Das  '  frozen  up  '  1st  sicher  von  Shakespeare  eingegeben. 

Nur  Anna  allein  sieht  das  Phantom,  nicht  ihr  Vater  uiid 
Ursula,  die  bei  ihr  siiid  —  ebenso  wie  Hamlet  allein  seines 
Vaters  Geist  im  dritten  Akte  sieht,  nicht  seine  Mutter,  mit  der 
er  die  Uiiterredung  hat.  Wie  Hamlet  beschreibt  auch  Anna  erst 
die  Erscheinung,  um  dann  zu  fragen,  ob  die  anderen  nichts 
sahen  oder  horten.  Wie  Hamlet  endlich  stellt  sie  fest,  dass  der 
Geist  aufs  Haar  dem  gleiche,  den  er  darstellt  (Dr.  Ill,  i,  89  ff .)  : 

See  !  how  like  a  dreadfull  magistrate  it  standes, 

Still  pointing  at  me,  the  blacke  offender  ; 

And  like  a  cunning  poysoner,  will  not  kill  me, 

But  lets  me  linger  on  for  daies  and  yeares. 

It  stares,  beckons,  points,  to  the  peece  of  Gold 

We  brake  betweene  us  ;  looke,  looke  there,  here,  there  ! 

Bo.  1  see  nothing,  perceive  nothing,  feele  nothing! 

Vrs.  Nor  I,  nor  quicke  thing,  neyhter  cloath'd  nor  nak'd... 

Gho.  Thy  time  is  not  yet  come... 

An.  You  doe  not  heare  it  neyther  ? 

Bo.  Whom  should  we  heare  ? 

An.  Young  Batemans  visage 

In  every  limbe  as  perfect  as  he  liv'd. 
Bei  Shakespeare  heisst  das  so  (Hamlet  III,  4,  ia5  ff.)  : 

Look  you,  how  pale  he  glares  ! 

His  form  and  cause  conjoin'd,  preaching  to  stones, 

Would  make  them  capable.  Do  not  look  upon  me... 

Queen.  To  whom  do  you  speak  this  ? 

Ham.  Do  you  see  nothing  there  ? 

Queen.  Nothing  at  all ;  yet  all  that  is  I  see. 

Ham.  Nor  did  you  nothing  hear  ? 

Queen.  No,  nothing  but  ourselves. 

Ham.  Why,  look  you  there  !  look,  how  it  steals  away  ! 

My  father,  in  his  habit  as  he  lived  ! 

Der  genau  parallele  Verlauf  der  Scenen  zeigt  uns  ganz  klar, 
dass  wir  hier  eine  Beeinflussung  Sampsons  durch  Shakespeare 
zu  konstatieren  haben.  Der  Anna  tritt  Bateinans  Geist,  ihr 
eigenes  boses  Gewissen,  im  wesentlichen  als  die  in  die  burger- 
lichen  Verhaltnisse  iibertragene  konigliche  Erscheinung  des 
'  Hamlet '  gegeniiber. 

Ausser  Anna  giaubt  auch  ihr  Vater  eininal  Batemans  Geist  zu 
sehen  (Dr.  V,  2,  88  ff.).  Auch  er  sagt  almlich,  wie  Hamlet  zum 
Geist  seines  koniglichen  Vaters  sagt : 


Bee'st  thou  the  devill,  I  will  talke  with  thee  ; 
...  Art  thou  of  aire,  of  earth,  heaven  or  hell, 
Or  art  thou  of  some  Incubusses  breede  ? 
Is  there  more  walking  Batemans  ?  answer  me,... 
Hamlets  Worte  sind  (I,  4,  40  ff.)  : 

Be  thou  a  spirit  of  health  or  goblin  damn'd, 
Bring  with  thee  airs  from  heaven  or  blasts  from  hell, 

Thou  comest  in  such  a  questionable  shape 
That  I  will  speak  to  thee  :  I'll  call  thee  Hamlet, 
King,  father,  royal  Dane  :  O,  answer  me  ! 

Also  auch  hier  eine  deutliche  Anlehnung  an  Shakespeare. 
'  Hamlet '  und  'Romeo  und  Julia*  scheinen  Sampsons  Lieblings- 
stiicke  seines  Lieblingsdichters  Shakespeare  gewesen  zu  sein. 
So  deutlich  wie  diese  beiden  hat  kernes  von  den  anderen 
Stiicken  des  Stratf order  Dramatikers  seine  Spuren  in  Samp 
sons  '  Vow-Breaker '  zuriickgelassen. 


Shakespeares  iibrige  Werke  und  Sampsons 
« Vow- Breaker '. 


Wenn  wir  uns  unser  Drama  atif  Anklange  an  Shakespeares 
Werke  ausser  '  Romeo  und  Julia  '  nnd  '  Hamlet '  hin  ansehen, 
so  bemerken  wir,  dass  niclit  wie  dort  ganze  Partieen  von  Shakes 
peare  eingegeben  sind,  sondern  nur  vereinzelte  Situationen, 
Bilder  oder  kurze  Satze.  Schon  gleicli  der  Anfang  des  Dramas 
erinnert  an  '  All's  Well  That  Ends  Well '.  Hier  wie  dort  inacht 
das  Madchen  dem  erwahlten  Manne  Yorwiirfe  wegen  des  unter- 
lassenenAbschiedskusses.  Anna  sagt  zuBateman  (Dr.  I,  i,  2  ff.): 

Had  I  but  one  entire  affected  Pearle 
Inestimable  unto  vulgar  censure 
And  is  there  none  to  play  the  Theife  but  thou  ! 
Oh  misery  would'st  have  thy  love  entrans'd, 
Without  an  echo  that  would  sigh  farewell. 
Common  curtesie  amongst  rurall  Hyndes 
With  this  formallity  disciplines  them 
At  the  departure,  and  you  to  steel e  away 
Without  my  Privity  ? 

Bei  Shakespeare  sagt  Helena  zu  Bertram  (II,  5,  84  ff .)  : 

I  am  not  worthy  of  the  wealth  I  owe, 

Nor  dare  I  say  'tis  mine,  and  yet  it  is  ; 

But,  like  a  timorous  thief,  most  fain  would  steal 

What  law  does  vouch  mine  own. 

Bert.  What  would  you  have  ? 

Hel.  Something  ;  and  scarce  so  much  :  nothing,  indeed. 

I  would  not  tell  you  what  I  would,  my  lord  : 

Faith,  yes  ; 

Strangers  and  foes  do  sunder,  and  not  kiss. 

Doch  bevor  Bateman  Anna  endgiiltig  verlasst,  um  nach 
Schottland  in  den  Krieg  zu  ziehen,  schworen  die  beiden  Lie- 
benden  einander  ewige  Treue *),  genau  so  wie  Troilus  und  Cres- 
sida  sich  versprechen,  treu  zu  bleiben,  als  diese  zu  den 
Griechen  muss.  *)  Troilus  fiirclitet,  sie  konne  ihr  Herz  an  einen 


d)  Dr.  I,  i. 

2)  Troilus  and  Cressida  IV,  4,  5g  ff. 


-43- 

Griechen  verlieren  --  Anna  ermahnt  Bateman,  sie  nicht  zu 
vergessen,  denn  :   ' 

Souldiers  in  Warre  make  any  saint  their  owne 

Forgeting  those  they  are  devoted  too  !  (Dr.  I,  i,  35  ff.) 
Aber  auch  Bateman  soil  nieht  zu  sehr  auf  Anna  bauen,  denn 
'  women  by  kinde  are  fickle'  (Dr.  I,  i,  124).  Das  weiss  auch 
Ursula  :  '  we  young  wenches  in  our  loves  are  like  Lapwinges, 
if  once  we  creepe  out  o'th  shells,  we  run  from  our  ould  loves 
like  Scopperells...  '  (Dr.  I,  i,  68  ff.)  ;  das  erinncrt  mich  an 
Hamlet  V,  2,  198-194,  wo  Horatio  von  Osrick  sagt  :  '  This 
lapwing  runs  away  with  the  shell  on  his  head  '. 

Es  ware  sicherer,  wenn  sie  sich  jetzt  mit  Bateman  vereinigen 
konnte,  allein  ihr  Vater  will  seine  Einwilligung  dazu  nicht 
geben.  Old  Bateman  macht  ihm  deshalb  Vorwiirfe  und  erkliirt 
ihm,  dass  sein  Solm  der  Anna  durchaus  ebenbiirtig  an  die  Seite 
gestellt  werden  kann  (Dr.  I,  i,  94  ff.)  : 

Does  not  his  birth,  and  breeding  equall  hers  ?... 
...  his  purity  of  bloud 

Runs'.in  as  sweete  a  streame  and  naturall  heate 

As  thine,  or  hers  ;  his  exterior  parts 

May  parallell  hers,  or  any  others... 

Auch  in  Shakespeares  King  John  wird  ein  Paar  mit  einander 
verglichen  :  Lewis,  the  Dauphin  und  Blanch  of  Spain  (II,  i, 
426  ff.)  : 

If  lusty  love  should  go  in  quest  of  beauty 

Where  should  he  find  it  fairer  than  in  Blanch  ? 

...  If  love  ambitious  sought  a  match  of  birth, 
Whose  veins  bound  richer  blood  than  Lady  Blanch? 

Such  as  she  is,  in  beauty,  virtue,  birth, 

Is  the  young  Dauphin  every  way  complete. 

Old  Boote  liisst  sich  nicht  von  seinem  Unrecht  iiberzeugen. 
Er  freut  sich,  dass  Bateman  mit  Clifton  nach  Norden  zieht,  der 
eben  ankommt,  um  zu  werben.  Die  Werbescene  (Dr.  I,  2.)  ist 
eine  schwache  Nachahmung  der  bekannten  Falstaffscene  in 
Heinrich  IV. (Toil  2,  Scene  2  des  III.  Aktes),  wie  schon  Singer 
in  seiner  Dissertation  hervorhebt.  ')  Der  grosste  Teil  des 
englischen  Heeres  ist  schon  vor  Leith.  Grey,  der  General,  darf 
im  '  Kriegeshandwerk  '  —  'in  the  trade  of  warre ',  der  Aus- 


Das  biirgerliche  Trauerspiel  i.  Engl.  S.  62. 


-44- 

druck,  der  sich  bei  Shakespeare  im  Othello  (I,  2,  i)  findet  - 
keine  Schritte  iiber  seine  Befugnisse  hinaus  tun  (Dr.  I,  3,  2  ff .) : 

we  in  the  trade  of  warre 

....  Are  like  small  Rivers  that  must  keepe  their  bounds, 
Till  the  Queene  Ocean  command  them  rise. 

In  Shakespeares  '  King  John  '  finden  wir  ein  almliches  Bild 
(V,  4,  52  ff.)  : 

We  will... 

...  like  a  bated  and  retired  flood, 
Leaving  our  rankness  and  irregular  course, 
Stoop  low  within  those  bounds  we  have  o'erlook'd 
And  calmly  run  on  in  obedience 
Even  to  our  ocean,  to  our  great  King  John. 

Mittlerweile  ist  auch  Clifton  mit  seinen  '  Nottinghamshire 
boys'  vor  Leith  angekommen.Einer  seiner  tapf eren Mannen  hat 
eine  Katze  mitgebracht,  mit  der  er  in  die  Schlacht  stiirmen  will. 
Schoii  in  '  Gammer  Gurton's  Needle '  hatte  die  Katze  Gib  eine 
grosse  Rolle  gespielt.  Doch  Joshuas  Tier  —  denn  er  ist  der 
Besitzer  —  scheint  nicht  von  ihr  abzustammen.  Sie  hat  vielinehr 
Ahnlichkeit  mit  Lanz'  Koter  in  '  The  Two  Gentlemen  of 
Verona  '.  Auch  sie  macht  ihrem  Herrn  ob  ihrer  bosen  Manieren 
viel  zu  schaffen  und  soil  zur  Strafe  gehangt  werden.  Aber  wie 
der  Koter  entgeht  auch  sie  dieser  Strafe  mit  knapper  Not.  Mit 
ihr  unterhalt  sich  Joshua  ebenso  angelegentlich  wie  Lanz  mit 
Krabb,  and  das  kluge  Tier  zeigt  sein  Verstandnis  fur  die  Reden 
seines  Herrn  durch  fleissiges  Miauen  an,  besonders,  wo  es,  an 
einen  Strick  gebunden,  sein  Todesurteil  horen  muss.  Die  bei 
Shakespeare  und  bei  Sampson  in  Betracht  kommenden  Scenen 
sind  folgende  : 
Dr.  I,  3,  89  ff.  und  III,  2. 
Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona  II,  3  und  IV,  4. 
Wahrend  droben  in  Schottland  Young  Bateman  sicli  im 
Kampfe  hervortut,  entwindet  sich  Anna  leiclit  der  Liebe  zu 
dem  fernen  jungen  Helden  und  wahlt  einen  <  reiferen  '  Gatten 
(Dr.  I,  4,  9  ff.): 

In  nat'rall  things  we  see  that  Herbes,  and  Plants 
In  autumne  ever  doe  receive  perfection, 
As  they,  so  man  never  attaines  his  height 
Till  in  the  autumne  of  his  growing  age. 

Einahnlicher  Gedanke  findet  sichim  Sommernachtstraum  II, 
2, 117-118 : 


-  45- 

Things  growing  are  not  ripe  until  their  season  : 
So  I,  being  young,  till  now  ripe  not  to  reason... 

Wenn  auch  German  schon  im  Herbst  des  Lebens  steht,  so  1st 
er  doch  dem  alteu  Boote  als  Schwiegersohn  willkommen, 
denn  er  1st  reich.  Audi  Anna  nimmt  ihn  als  Gatten  gern  an, 
denn  sie  glaubt,  dass  Gold  kann 

Make  the  deformed  faire,  the  faire  seeme  fowle.  (Dr.  1,4, 5o-5i) 

Das  eriimert  an  '  Macbeth  'I,  i,  10  : 
Fair  is  foul,  and  foul  is  fair. 

Der  zweite  Akt  unseres  Dramas  beginnt  mit  der  Nebenhand- 
lung.  Die  listigen  Franzosen  wollen  die  Engliinder  iiberfallen 
(Dr.  II,  i)  : 

They  (=  die  Englander)  now  are  healthing,  and  carrowsing  deepe. 

Now  is  our  time  to  worke  a  stratagem. 

In  Shakespeares  Heinrich  VI.  will  Talbot  die  Franzosen  aus 
ilirem  Rausch  aufwecken  (Erster  Teil,  II,  i,  n  ff.)  : 
This  happy  night  the  Frenchmen  are  secure 
Having  all  day  caroused  and  banqueted  : 
Embrace  we  then  this  opportunity. 

Im  englisclien  Lager  aber  ist  jeder  auf  seinem  Posten.  Nur 
Batemaii  bittet  urn  seine  Entlassang,  da  er,  von  bosen  Traumen 
gequiilt,  in  die  Heimat  zuriickkehren  will.  Miles,  der  M  tiller 
von  Rudington,  der  sich  in  Ursula  verliebt  hat,  bittet  ihn,  sie 
zu  griissen  und  ihr  zu  bestellen  (Dr. II,  i,  64  ff.)  :  '  I  fight  for  her 
sake,  and  will  live  as  long  as  I  can,  dy  when  I  can  no  longer 
live.  '  Gan/  alinlicli  sagt  Nym  in  Shakespeares  Heinrich  V.  (II, 
i,  i5  ff.)  :  '  I  will  live  so  long  as  I  may,  that's  the  certain  of  it ; 
and  when  I  cannot  live  any  longer,  I  will  do  as  I  may. '  Der 
einzige  Unterschied  liegt  in  dem  Wortchen  '  dy  '  statt  '  do '. 
Wie  in  der  Globe-edition,  nach  der  ich  zitiere,  finden  wir  in 
den  moderuen  Shakespeare-ausgaben  wie  in  der  Ubersetzung 
von  Schlegel-Tieck  die  Lesart  *  do  ',  Dyce  alleiii  aber  hat  *  die  ', 
wie  uiiser  Drama.  Wahrscheinlich  geht  seine  Korrektur  auf 
Mason  zuriick,  von  dem  Delius  in  seiner  Shakespeare-ausgabe 
sagt  :  l)  "M.  Mason  verwischte  die  charakteristische  Rede- 
weise  Nyms  und  machte  sie  verniinftiger,  als  Shakespeare 
beabsichtigte,  indem  er  verbesserte  :  I  will  die  as  I  may  ". 
Shakespeare  hat  zweifellos  'do'  geschrieben  —  trotz  unseres 


')  Anmerkung  zu  Heinr.  V. ;  II,  i,  i5. 


-46- 

Drainas.  Denn  die  Folioausgaben  von  1628  und  1682  und  die 
Quarten  von  1600  und  1608  liaben  alle  deutlich  '  do  '  oder  '  doe  '. 
In  dem  Quartdrucke  von  1617  ist  die  fragliche  Stelle  niclit 
zu  finden,  wie  mir  ein  Freund  mitteilt,  der  fiir  mich  die  alten 
Shakespeare-ausgaben  im  Britisclien  Museum  eingesehen  hat. 

Bateman  kommt  nach  Clifton.  Dort  redet  er  Ursula  an,  die 
eben  einen  Monolog  iiber  die  Unbestandigkeit  der  Frauen 
gehalten  hat,  in  dem  es  von  Anna  heisst  (Dr.  II,  2,  n  ff.) :  '  and 
now  married  shees  sicke  of  the  sullens,  shee  wants  youth  to 
enflame,  and  give  satietie  a  fresh  appetite.' 

lago  in  seinem  Gesprach  init  Rodrigo  aussert  sich  ganz 
almlich  liber  das  Vernal tnisDesdemonas  zu  Othello  (Othello; II, 
i,  229  ff .)  :  '  When  the  blood  is  made  dull  with  the  act  of  sport 
there  should  be,  again  to  inflame  it  and  to  give  satiety  a  fresh 
appetite,  loveliness  in  favour,  sympathy  in  years,  manners  and 
beauties  :  all  which  the  Moor  is  defective  in.' 

Wenn  Bateman  eben  noch  hoffte,  der  kalte  Grass  seiner 
Bekannten  und  seines  Vaters  bei  der  Riickkehr  in  die  Heimat 
bedeute  nichts  Schlimmes  —  '  Heaven  has  a  hand  in  all  things ' 
(Dr.  II,  2,  82)  sagt  er  sich  (cf.  Shakespeares  Richard  II.  ;  V,  i, 
87  :  'But  heaven  hath  a  hand  in  these  events ')  — ,  so  lasst  er  jetzt 
seine  Hoffnung  fahren,  als  er  erfahrt,  dass  Anna  heute  Hoch- 
zeit  feiert.  Die  jnnge  Gattin  Germans  tritt  ihm  entgegeii  —  sie 
kennt  ihn  nicht.  Das  ist  ihm  unbegreiflich  (Dr.  II,  2,  74  ff.)  : 

I  wonder  then  how  I  dare  know  my  selfe, 

When  thou  forget'st  me.  I  had  thought 

Had  I  ben  sullide  with  the  sooty  Moore, 

Or  tan'd  with  heate  like  some  Egiptian  slave, 

Or  spoted  like  the  Persian  Leopardes, 

Or  in  the  worst  forme  can  be  termn'd 

Or  imagin'd,  yet  thou  coulds  have  knowne  me. 
Dabei  werde  ich  an  '  Macbeth  '  erinnert,  wo  Banquos  Geist 
von    dem    neuen    Schottenkonige    also    angeredet  wTird  (III, 
4,  100  ff .)  : 

Approach  thou  like  the  rugged  Russian  bear, 

The  arm'd  rhinoceros,  or  the  Hyrcan  tiger  ; 

Take  any  shape  but  that,  and  my  firm  nerves 

Shall  never  tremble. 

Anna  tragt  den  Trauring  am  rechten   Finger  —   Bateman 


-47  - 

bemerkt  es  und  ahnt  die  grausanie  Antwort  auf  seine  Frage, 

wem  der  Ring  gehore  (Dr.  II,  2,  108-109)  : 

And  like  the  deadly  bullet  from  a  Gun, 
Thy  meaning  kills  me,  e're  thy  words  gets  vent. 
Fast  dieselben  Worte  finden  sicb  in  Shakespeares  '  Venus 

und  Adonis  '  Zeile  461-462  : 

Or  like  the  deadly  bullet  of  a  gun, 
His  meaning  struck  her  ere  his  words  begun. 
Die  Untreue  Annas  tut  Bateman  well  (Dr.  II,  i,  187  ff.)  : 
...  such  an  overture,  and  flood  of  woes 
Surroundes  me,  that  they  almost  droun'd 
My  understanding. 

Bei  diesem  Bilde   denkt  Sampson  sicher  an  Heinrichs  VI. 
Worte  (Heinrich  VI.  Z welter  Teil  ;  III,  i,  198  ff.)  : 
...  my  heart  is  drown'd  with  grief 
Whose  flood  begins  to  flow  within  mine  eyes, 
My  body  round  engirt  with  misery... 

Das  Tageslicht  dart'  des  Miidchens  schwarze  Tat  nicht  sehen 
(Dr.  II,  4,  38  ff.)  : 

Night  be  auspicious,  draw  thy  sable  weedes, 
For  day-light  is  asham'd  of  her  blacke  deeds. 

Macbeths  diistere  Wiinsche  sollen  die   Sterne  nicht  sehen 
(I,  4,  5o-5i)  : 

Stars,  hide  your  fires  ; 

Let  not  light  see  my  black  and  deep  desires. 
Bateman  erluingt  sich  (Dr.  II,  4,  4°'4I) : 

One  twich  will  do't,  and  then  I  shall  be  wed 
As  firme  unto  my  grave,  as  to  her  bed. 
Julia  sagt  von  Romeo  (I,  5,  186-137)  : 

...  if  he  be  married, 

My  grave  is  like  to  be  my  wedding  bed. 

Old  Bateman  sucht  in  der  Nacht  mit  einer  Fackel  seineii 
Sohn,  findet  ihn  an  einem  Strick  liiingend  und  sclmeidet  ihn 
ab  —  genau  wie  Jeronimo  in  der    '  Spanish  Tragedy '  l).   Er 
will  seines  einzigen  Sohnes  Bild  in  seine  Kanuner  hiingeu,  um 
sich  wenigsteiis  mit  ihm  zu  unterlialten  (Dr.  II,  4>  i33  ff.)  : 
Tie  have  thy  picture  hung  up  in  my  Chamber, 
And  when  I  want  thee,  I  will  weepe  to  that. 
Auch  in    Shakespeares   '  Two   Gentlemen    of  Verona '   soil 


*)  Singer  in  seiner  Dissertation  (S.  63)  macht  schon  auf  diese  Ahulich- 
keit  aufmerksam. 


-48- 

einmal  em  Bild  eine  Person  vertreten.  Da  Silvia  Proteus  unzu- 
ganglich  ist,  bittet  er  sie  wenigstens  urn  ihr  Bild,  das  er  an 
ihrer  statt  verehren  mochte  (IV,  2,  120-128)  : 
Madam,  if  your  heart  be  so  obdurate, 
Vouchsafe  me  yet  your  picture  for  my  love, 
The  picture  that  is  hanging  in  your  chamber  ; 
To  that  I'll  speak,  to  that  I'll  sigh  and  weep. 

Wahrend  Old  Bateman  iiber  dor  Leiche  seines  Sohues  jam- 
mert,  verlacht  Anna  das  ganze  traglsclie  Schauspiel.  Aber 
bald  regt  sich  ihr  Gewissen :  Batemans  Geist  verfolgt  sie 

(Dr.  Ill,  i,  4)  : 

It  will  not  let  me  rest,  sleepe,  nor  eat. 

It  will  not  let  you  eat,  nor  talk,  nor  sleep... 

sagt  Portia  iin  *  Julius  Casar  '  zu  Brutus,  als  sie  ihn  bittet,  sie 
seinen  Kummer  wissen  zu  lassen  (II,  i,  252).  Anna  wird  von 
dem  Geist  zuiiachst  noch  nicht  in  die  Unterwelt  gefiihrt,  weil 
sie  schwanger  ist  (Dr.  IV,  i,  101)  : 

Thy  time  is  not  yet  come. 

Almlich  ruft  die  Jungfrau  von  Orleans  Talbot  zu,  als  sie  mit 
ihm  gekampft  hat  (Heinrich  VI.  Erster  Teil.  I,  5,i3) :  'thy hour 
is  not  yet  come.'  Beide  Dichter  denken  hier  wohl  an  das  Bibel- 
wort.  Es  heisst  John  VII,  3o  :  '  Then  they  sought  to  take 
Him,  but  no  man  layd  hand  on  Him  because  His  lioure  was  not 
yet  come.  '  *) 

Bevor  Anna  abberufen  wird,  ist  ihr  Zeit  zur  lieue  gegeben. 
Sie  geht  zu  Old  Bateman,  den  sie  vorher  geholmt  hat,  um  ihn 
um  Verzeihung  zu  bitten.  Der  Alte  glaubt  nicht  daran,  dass 
sich  ihr  Herz  erweichen  konne  —  es  ist  so  hart  wie  das  Shy- 
locks  (Dr.  Ill,  4,  38  ff.)  : 

....  to  gaine 

Relenting  teares  from  thy  obdurate  harte 
'  Tis  as  impossible  as  to  force  Fire  from  snow, 
Water  from  flint,  say  the  Sun  shall  not  shine, 
As  well  upon  the  begger  as  the  King, 
That  is  alike  indifferent  to  all. 

Die  Stelle  im  '  Merchant  of  Venice ',  an  die  Sampson  zwei- 
fellos  gedacht  hat,  steht  IV,  i,  70  ff.  und  fangt  an  : 
You  may  as  well  go  stand  upon  the  beach 
And  bid  the  main  flood  bate  his  usual  height... 


Carter  :  Shakespeare  and  Holy  Bible,  pag.  76. 


und  schliesst  : 

You  may  as  well  do  any  thing  most  hard, 

As  seek  to  soften  that  —  than  which  what's  harder  ?  — 

His  Jewish  heart. 

Aber  Ursula  bittet  Batemans  Vater,  der  reuigen  Sunderiu 
zu  vergeben  und  zu  bedenken  (Dr,  III,  4,  4$)  : 

Forgiveness  is  an  Attribute  to  Heaven, 

wie  auch  Portia  in  ihrer  bekannteii  Rede  Shylock  zu  bedenken 
rat  (Merchant  of  Venice  IV,  i,  ig5)  : 

But  mercy  is  above  this  sceptred  sway  ; 

....  It  is  an  attribute  to  God  himself. 

Old  Batcinan  tut  es  herzlich  gern,  iiicht  aber  seines  Solmes 
Geist,  der  eben  wieder  erscheint.  Anna  bittet  ihn,  ilir  mog- 
lichst  bald  die  verdiente  Strafe  xuteil  werden  zu  lassen  und  sie 
uicht  vorher  nocli  lange  zu  qtuilen.  Sie  ist  gefasst  (Dr.  Ill,  4, 
6iff.): 

My  eies  set  heere  un-mou'd,  i'le  gaze  with  thee, 
Untill  the  windowes  of  my  head  drop  out. 

Dieses  Bild  findet  sich  bei  Shakespeare  ofter.  King 
Richard  III  ;  V,  3,  116  : 

Ere  I  let  fall  the  windows  of  mine  eyes... 
und  Romeo  und  Julia  IV,  I,  100  : 
thy  eyes'  windows  fall.. 

Nocli  immer  ist  Annas  Stunde  nicht  gekommen  —  der  Geist 
muss  erst  die  Geburt  ihres  Kindes  abwarten.  Unmittelbar 
darauf  aber  hat  Anna  einen  schlimmen  Traum,  der  ilir  sagt, 
dass  sie  in  der  Nacht  von  Batenians  Geist  geholt  wird.  Deshalb 
sollen  ilire  Freundinnen  bei  ilir  wachen.  Die  aber  werden  bald 
schliifrig  und  schlafeu  schliesslich  ganz  ein  (Dr.  IV,  2,  170  ff.) : 
You  begin  to  be  sleepy,  sagt  Mother  Pratle,  I  can  prescribe  you  a 
medecine  of  Poppy,  Mandragora,  and  other  drowsy  Syrops. 

lago  sagt  zu  Othello  als  Einleitung  zu  seiner  Tasehentueh- 
intrige  (III,  3,  33o  ff.)  : 

/  Not  poppy,  nor  mandragora, 

Nor  all  the  drowsy  syrups  of  the  world, 
Shall  ever  medicine  thee  to  that  sweet  sleep 
Which  thou  owedst  yesterday. 

Sobald  die  Frauen  schlafen,  kommt  der  Geist  und  weckt 
Anna  (Dr.  IV,  2,  180)  : 

Awake,  fond  mortal! ,  ne'  re  to  sleepe  againe  - 

4 


—  5o  — 

auch  Macbeth  ja  'shall  sleep  no  more'  (11,2,  248).  Und  nun 
fiihrt  er  sie  hinweg  iiber 

Turrets,  Towres,  and  Steeples 
O're  shady  Groves,  brineish  Hears,  and  Brooks,.. 
O're  steepy  Mountaines  and  the  craggy  Rocks, 
Whose  heights  Kisse  Starres,  and  stop  the  flying  Clouds. 

(Dr.  IV,  2,  i93  if.). 

Ich  werde  da  an  Edgars  Worte  aus  dem  Terzett  der  Tollen  im 
'  Konig  Lear  '  erinnert  (III,  4»  5i  ff .)  : 

Who  gives  any  thing  to  poor  Tom  ?  whom  the  foul  fiend  hath  led 
through  fire  and  through  flame,  through  ford  and  whirlipool,  o'er  bog 
and  quagmire... 

Othello  spricht  I,  3,  i/\i  von 

Rough  quarries,  rocks  and  hills  whose  heads  touch  heaven. 
Man  findet  Annas  Leiche  im  Trent.  Das  1st  eigentlich  das 
Ende  der  Tragodie.  Aber  im  fimften  Akte  tritt  Old  Boote  noch 
einmal  auf.  Sein  schlechtes  Gewissen  lasst  ihn  in  Miles  Bate- 
mans  Geist  sehen  —  ein  an  nnd  fiir  sich  tragischer  Zug,  den 
Sampson  in  einer  Priigel scene  verwendet  hat.  Aber  der  Alte 
kennt  keine  Geisterfurcht  (Dr.  V,  2,  98  ff.)  : 

...  1  will  beate  thy  carcas  into  a  forme 
That  is  full  substantial!,  and  has  feeling, 
Seeing,  hearing,  smelling,  and  sweete-tasting. 

Diese  Worte  erinnern  mich  an  den  '  Sturm  '.  Miranda  halt 
Ferdinand  fiir  einen  Geist  (I,  2,  411  ff.)  : 

It  carries  a  brave  form.  But  'tis  a  spirit, 
aber  Prospero  klart  sie  auf  : 

No,  wench  ;  it  eats  and  sleeps  and  hath  such  senses 

As  we  have,  such. 

Das  ist  die  einzige  Stelle  im  gauzeii  fiinften  Akt,  die  an 
Shakespeare  erinnert,  wakrend  uns  die  vier  vorhergehenden 
eine  ganz  hiibsche  Auslese  aus  seinen  Werkeii  bieten.  Aller- 
dings  war  in  diesem  Teil  unseres  Dramas  nur  noch  wenig 
Platz  fiir  Ankliinge  an  Shakespeare  vorhanden,  denn  die  erste 
Scene  ist  fast  wortlich  von  Holinslied  iibernoinmen,  wie  wir 
gesehen  haben,  und  die  letzte  erinnert  an  zwei  aiidere  Drama- 
tiker  jener  Tage,  wie  im  folgendeii  gezeigt  werden  soil. 


Literarische  Einf liisse  ausser  Shakespeare. 


In  der  letzten  Scene  unseres  Dramas  erscheint  Konigin 
Elisabeth  auf  der  Biiline.  Wir  befinden  uns  in  Nottingham, 
wo  sie  ihre  heimkehrenden  Helden  von  Leith  empfiingt.  Die 
Stadt  hat  ihr  zu  Ehren  ein  Georgsspiel  aufgefiihrt.  Die  Rollen 
sind  verteilt  worden,  wie  dieFiihigkeit  der  Teilnehmer  esgebot. 
Dem  Master  Major  fiillt  die  Begriissungsrede  zu.  Er  iiberreicht 
auch  die  Petition  betreffs  Schiffahrt  auf  dem  Trent,  die  sofort 
gewahrt  wird  (Dr.  V,  2).  In  '  A  Knack  to  Know  a  Knave  '  findet 
sich  eine  ganz  almliche  Scene.  Hier  beraten  die  drei  Mad  men 
of  Gotham,  wer  der  wiirdigste  und  weiseste  sei,  dem  Konig  ihre 
Petition  betreffs  Bier  zu  unterbreiten.  Der  Schuster  wird  dazu 
ausersehen,  und  der  Konig  genehmigt  sie  sofort.  Die  Scene 
fiiidet  sich  in  der  von  Hazlitt  herausgegebenen  Dodsleyschen 
Sammlung  von  Old  English  Plays,  Band  VI,  pag.  565  ff.  1). 

Unser  Burgermeister  fiilirt  sich  naiv-vertraulich  bei  Seiner 
Majestiit  ein  —  just  so,  wie  Old  Hobson  in  Hey  wood's  '  If  you 
know  not  me,  you  know  nobody' 2).  Unser  plaine  honest  Tanner 
steht  allerdiiigs  nodi  intimer  mit  der  Konigin  als  Hey  woods 
Haberdasher  —  fur  ihn  ist  sie  in  der  Anrede  ganz  einfach 
1  Besse  '  (Dr.  V,  3,  ID  ff.),  wiihrend  Hobson  doch  wenigstens 
'  Queen  Bess '  sagt  (ed.  Collier  im  Auftragc  der  Shakespeare 
Society,  pag.  i36)  : 

God  bless  thy  grace,  Queen  Bess  ! 

Ein  paar  Zeilen  aus  jedem  Stiicke  mogen  uns  zeigeu,  welchen 
Ton  die  beiden  der  Konigin  gegeniiber  anschlagen.  Beide  stel- 
.  len  sich  ihr  vor.  Unser  Major  so  (Dr.  V,  3,  i5  ff.)  : 

I  am  a  plaine  honest  Tanner,  my  brother  aldermen  here,  one  a 
Shoo-maker,  to'  ther  a  Felmonger;  we  are  all  downe  right  toth'hide  ; 
I  ha'  noe  Lawyers  eloquence,  our  Recorder  cannot  whistle,  but,  by 
the  bones  of  sweete  St-Lucy,  welcome,  on  welcome. 

Old  Hobson  so  (ed.  Collier  p.  i36)  : 

God  bless  thy  grace,  Queen  Bess  ! 

J)  London,  1874. 
*)  London,  i6o5/6. 


Queen.  Friend,  what  are  you  ? 

Hob.  Knowest  thou  not  me,  Queen  ?  then,  thou  knowest  nobody. 
Bones  a  me,  Queen,  I  am  Hobson,  old  Hobson, 
By  the  stocks  :  I  am  sure  you  know  me, 

wobei  zu  bedenken  1st,   dass   Elisabeth  zwar  Geld  von  ilim 
geliehen,  ilm  aber  nie  geselien  hat. 

In  den  letzten  Zeilen  miseres  Dramas  dankt  die  junge 
Konigin  dem  Himmel  fiir  seine  Gunst  bei  ihrem  ersten  grosse- 
ren  Unternelimen  und  ihren  Wackeren  fur  ihre  Taten  vor 
Leith  (Dr.  V,  3,  97)  : 

Thanks  unto  heaven,  next  your  valiant  hands. 
Dr.  V,  3,  n5-ii6  : 

Heaven  for  our  victory  we  first  will  pay, 
And  praise  our  subjects  that  redeem'd  the  day. 
Dasselbe    tut    Elisabeth    bei  Heywood,  als   die    spanisclie 
Armada  vernichtet  worden  ist  (ed.  Collier,  pag.  i63)  : 
Next  under  Heaven  your  valours  have  the  praise  !... 
Our  thanks  to  Heaven,... 
For  though  our  enemies  be  overthrown, 
Tis  by  the  hand  of  Heaven,  and  not  our  own. 
Am   Schluss  beider  Dram  en  wiinschen  alle  Anwesenden  der 
Konigin  im  Chor  ein  langes  Leben.  Die  Wirkung  der  ganzeii 
Scene  mag  hier  wie  dort  dieselbe  gewesen  sein. 

Sonstige  literarische  Einlllisse  von  Dramatikera  neben 
Shakespeare  habe  ich  niclit  finden  konnen.  Sie  sind  sparlich 
genug  :  Shakespeare  iiberragte  alle  seine  Zeitgenossen  und  die 
Dicliter  der  Eolgezeit  auf  dramatischem  Gebiet.  Auf  episclien 
Gebietc  war  der  alle  iiberragende  Geist  Spenser,  der  Schopfer 
der  '  Faerie  Queene  '.  Audi  an  ilm  klingt  nnser  Drama  manch- 
mal  an.  Allerdings  nielit  zu  haufig.  Elisabeth  empfangt  Clifton 
mit  den  Worten  (Dr.  V,  3,  56  ff)  : 

War-like  Clifton,  fame  has  ben  before  thee, 

And  with  her  shrill  Trumpe  sent  your  praises  home, 

E're  your  arrival. 

Das  Bild,  die  Fania  mit  der  Trompete,  findet  sich  aucli  bei 
Spenser  (Sonnet  84,  Schluss)  : 

Which  when  as  Fame  in  her  shrill  trump  shal  thunder, 

Let  the  world  chose  to  envy  or  to  wonder. 

Die  Klage  um  die  verlorene  Geliebte  ist  in  einzelnen  Ziigeii 
nach  der  Art  der  Spensersehen  '  Daphnai'da  :  an  Elegy  upon 
the  Death  of  Hie  noble  and  Vertuous  Douglas  Howard  etc'. 


-  53  — 

Der  trauernde  Liebhaber  ruft  seine  Genossen  auf,  mit  ihm  zu 
klagen  (Dr.  II,  2,  142  ff.)  : 

You  constant  Lovers,  that  have  truely  lov'd..,. 
Come  waile  with  me,... 

vgl.  Daph.  VII,  i5  ff.  : 

And  ye,  true  Lovers  !... 

Help  me  to  wayle  my  miserable  case... 

Am  liebsten  mochte  auch  der  Geliebte  sterben,  aber  der 
grausame  Tod  kommt  nicht  in  seine  Nahe  —  er  liort  die  Bitte 
des  Lebensmiiden  nicht  (Dr.  II,  4,  6  ff.)  : 

Pale  monster,  in  the  meagerest  aspect, 
Come,  and  affront  me... 

But,  cowardly  monster,  thou  approchest  none 
But  those  that  fly  thee... 

Dr.  II,  4,  20  ff.  : 

For  I  have  sought  thee  through  the  unpend  groves, 

The  shady  cells  where  melancholly  walkes, 

And  eccho-like  thou  answerst  me  with  Death, 

But  darst  not  show  thy  face, 
vgl.  Daph.  19-21  : 

But  heavens  refuse  to  heare  a  wretches  cry  ; 

And  cruell  Death  doth  scorne  to  come  at  call, 

Or  graunt  his  boone  that  most  desires  to  dye. 
Die  Klage  ist  also  auf  den  Ton  der  Elegie  gestimint,  wie  ihn 
Sampson  bei  Spenser  ja  vor  allem  so  wunderbar  vorfand. 

In  den  wenigen  kleinen  Sceneii  unseres  Dramas,  die  nicht 
auf  eiiie  Quelle  zuriickgefuhrt  wordcn  sind,  bietet  uns  Sampson 
meist  Eigenes.  Einzig  die  Schlusscene  des  Stiickes  —  vor 
allem  die  Charta  —  scheint  noch  auf  eine  historische  Quelle 
zuruckzugehen,  die  ich  aber  nicht  findcn  konnte.  Sonst  sind  die 
fraglicheii  Scenen  von  Sampson  biilmenwirksame  Episoden,  die 
in  einem  Schema  des  draniatischen  Aufbaus  unseres  Stiickes 
nur  eine  kleiue  Rolle  spieleii,  wahrend  die  auf  Quellen  basie- 
renden  Hauptscenen  dort  den  meisten  Raum  beanspruchen  - 
ich  sehe  dabei  ab  von  den  wenigen  oben  besprochenen  Zusiitzen, 
womit  Sampson  die  Vow-breaker-handlung  bereichert  hat. 
Die  folgende  Ubersicht  iiber  das  Drama  soil  uns  auch  noch 
eiumal  kurz  die  Hauptquellen  vor  Augen  fiihren,  die  Sampson 
benutzt  hat ;  ich  fiige  sie  deshalb  in  Klammern  bei. 


Dramatischer  Aufbau. 


Die  Scenenfolge  in  unserem  Drama  ist  folgende  : 
I,  i  :  Das  liebende  Paar  —  die  streitenden  Vater  (Ballade, 
Shakespeare). 

2  :  Werbescene  -  -  Bateman  geht  nach  Schottland  :  An- 

kniipfung  an  die  Nebenliandlung  (Shakespeare,  Samp 
son). 

3  :  Trumball  —  Vorstossder  Franzosen.  Batemans  Tapfer- 

keit  (Holinshed,  Sampson). 

4  :  Verlobung  Annas  mit  German  (Ballade). 

II,  i  :  Die  neun  verkleideten  Franzosen.  Bateman  will  in  die 
Heimatzuriick  (Holinshed,  Sampson). 

2  :  Batemans  Riickkehr  und  Fluch  (Sampson,  Ballade). 

3  :  Episode  :  Duell  zwischen  Clifton  und  Mortigue  (Samp 

son). 

4  :  Batemans  Tod  (Ballade). 

III,  i  :  Batemans  Geist  (Ballade,  Shakespeare). 

2  :  Episode  :  Joshua  und  seine  Katze.  (Sampson,  Shakes 

peare). 

3  :  Monlucke  im  englischen  Lager  :  von  hier  an  geht  die 

Nebenhandlung  selbstandig  weiter  (Holinshed). 

4  :  Annas  Reue  (Sampson). 

IV,  i  :  Erstiirmung  von  Leith  (Holinshed). 

2  :  Annas  Tod  —  Versolmung  der  Vater  (Ballade,  Artemi- 

dor,  Shakespeare). 
V,  i  :  Der  Friede  von  Leith  (Holinshed). 

2  :  Vorbereitung  zum  Enipfang  der  Konigin  in  Nottingham 

('  A  Knack  to  Know  a  Knave  '). 

3  :  Elisabeth  in  Nottingham  (?,  Hey  wood). 

Wir  haben  also  hier  die  Tatsachen  der  Ballade  mit  einigen 
Zusatzen  des  Dichters  und  einigen  Shakespeareschen  Motiven 
und  die  Belagerung  von  Leith  nach  Holinshed.  Im  ersten  Akte 
werden  wir  gleich  in  medias  res  gef iihrt  —  eine  genaue  Exposi- 


—  55  — 

tion  gibt  es  nicht.  Aueli  die  Kriegshandlung  wird  unvermittelt 
begoiinen  ;  was  den  Zug  veranlasst  liat,  was  iiberhanpt  vorher 
gesclicheh  1st,  erfahren  wir  auch  liier  nicht.  Zuerst  verkiiiipft 
Bateinau  beide  Handlungen.  Danu  gehen  sie  nebeneinander 
her,  ohne  sich  irgendwio  zu  beriihreu.  Es  ist  kein  Versuch 
gemacht,  sie  sachlich  oder  auch  zeitlich  zusamuienzubringen  ; 
denn  auch  die  Zeit  in  beiden  ist  verschieden.  So  kommen 
Unstimmigkeiten  zu  Stande,  wie  ich  sie  am  Anfang  des  Holins- 
hedkapitels  angedeutet  habe.  Es  wundert  uns  bei  dieser  Arbeits- 
weise  Sampsons  nicht,  dass  die  Scenen  der  Nebenhandlung  an 
beliebigen  Stellen  in  das  Stuck  eingestreut  sind.  Wir  konneu 
also  von  eiiiem  kunstvollen  Aut'bau  der  ganzen  Handlung  nicht 
reden  :  in  die  tragischen  Balladenscenen  mit  den  komischen 
Ursulaauftritten  und  die  heroische  Kriegshandlung  mit  den 
scherzhaften  Joshnaepisoden  liisst  sich  eine  Ordnung  nach 
einem  Gesichtspunkt  nicht  hineinbringen.  Und  die  beiden 
Teile,  einzeln  betrachtet,  sind  im  ganzen  ziemlich  genau  nach 
deu  Quellen  wiedergegeben  -  -  ohne  besondere  dramatische 
Verwicklungen  und  Hohepuukte.  So  ist  also  unser  Stuck  eine 
Verschmelzung  von  zwei  Dranien,  einem  tragischen  und  einem 
heroischen,  die  beide  durch  komische  Intermezzi  belebt  werden, 
so  dass  das  Ganze  ein  nicht  uninteressantes  Gemisch  von 
Scenen  bildet,  das  dem  damaligen  Publikum  zusagen  mochtc, 
uus  heute  aber  nicht  mehr  behagt. 

Nicht  mehr  als  die  Handlungen  unseres  Stiickes  entwickeln 
sich  seine  Personeii.  Es  sind  kerne  Menschen,  sondern  blosse 
Typen.  Anna  ist  '  the  Vow-Breaker '  —  kaurn  '  the  fair  maid 
of  Clifton  ';  Bateman,  der  treu  liebende  Jimgling  der  Ballade; 
die  Vater  sind  streitende  Viiter ;  Ursula  ist  die  geschwiitzige 
Base  Annas  etc.  etc.  Das  gilt  noch  mehr  von  der  Nebenhand 
lung  :  Grey  ist  der  General,  alle  anderen  sind  Untertanen  in 
einem  bestimmten  militilrischen  Rang,  die  franzosicheii  Feinde 
natiirlich  ausgenommen.  Nur  Clifton  ist  von  Sampson  mit 
Liebe  behandelt  —  er  steht  uns  plastischer  vor  Augeu. 

Von  Sampson  ist  unser  Stuck,  wie  der  Titel  zeigt,  als  biir- 
gerliche  Tragodie  gedacht.  Wenn  wir  es  als  solche  betrachten, 
dabei  aber  die  abgetrennte  Nebeiihandluug  auch  berucksich- 
tigeii,  so  miissen  wir  es  so  charakterisieren  :  Es  ist  in  seiner 


—  56  —  *    , 

Anlage  und  in  seiiiem  Auf  bau  ein  durchaus  romantisches  Drama 
mit  zahlreichen  verscliiedenartigen  Personen,  die  zu  verechie- 
denen  Zeiten  an  verschiedeiien  Orten  sehr  verscliieden  liandeln 
und  aueh  verschieden  reden,  wie  wir  gleich  selien  werden.  Als 
einziges  urspriinglicli  antikes  Moment  tritt  uns  der  Geist 
entgegen,  docli  faiid  ilin  Sampson  bereits  bei  seiiiem  roman- 
tischen  Vorbild  des  ofteren  verwendet. 


Sprache  urid  Metrik. 


Unser  Drama  ist  ein  pathetisches  Versdrama  mit  eingestreu- 
ten  Prosascenen.  Die  Verse  sind  mfftnchmal  als  Prosa  gedruckt. 
Die  wichtigsten  habe  ich  in  den  Aumerkungen  zu  deni  Drama 
zu  Verszeilen  zusammengestellt.  Im  allgemeinen  sind  sie  sehr 
oft  nieht  leicht  zu  lesen,  dafiir  aber  natiirlich  fur  den  Schau- 
spieler  bequem  zu  sprechen  —  wir  haben  also  oft  schlechtc,  auf 
der  Biihne  aber  wirksamc  Verse  vor  uns.  Moistens  cndigpn  sie 
iminnlich,  aber  reclit  eigeutlich  eintonig  werden  sie  nur  in 
Hingeren  Partieen,  wo  das  Enjambement  nicht  fiir  Belebung 
sorgt.  Manclnnal  niihern  sie  sieh  sogar  bedenklicli  der  Prosa, 
am  auffallendsten  da,  wo  Holinshed  mit  kleinen  Streichungen 
und  Zusatzen  als  Vers  abgedruckt  ist  (Dr.  V,  i,  35  ff.).  Sampson 
gebraucht  zur  Ausschmiickung  des  Verses  gern  den  lleim,  am 
liebsten  an  Stellen,  die  wirkcn  sollen  ;  so  besonders,  ausser  in 
den  Prologen  ('  The  Illustration'  und  '  Prologue  to  Censurers  '), 
an  Akt-  und  Scenenschlussen,genau  wie  Shakespeare.  Dane  ben 
aber  finden  wir  bei  ilun  auch  oft  die  Alliteration.  Das  beste 
Beispiel  bietet  wohl  Vers  26  in  der  dritten  Scene  des  ersten 
Aktes  : 

Two  thousand  hardy  Scots, 

...  Such  as  will  fight,  and  face  the  fiery  French.  l) 

Die  Sprache  der  Verse  bietet  nichts  Neues.  Shakespeare  hat 
Sampson  man  dies  Bild  geliehen,  und  auch  sonst  finden  wir 
Vergleiche  und  Bilder,.wie  sie  damals  in  der  Dramenliteratur 
gang  und  giibe  waren.  Sampson  hat  fiir  seine  Verse  im  allge 
meinen  eine  angemessene  Sprache  gefunden. 

Eine  ganz  andere  Sprache  bietet  er  uns  in  den  Prosascenen  : 
sie  sind  oft  von  einer  unglaublichen  Derbheit.  Prosa  wird  in 
unserem  Drama  an  alien  nicht  pathetischen  Stellen  gcsprochen. 


4)  Audi  die  Prosa  unseres  Drainus  cuthJilt  niuncli  alliterierendea  Wort, 
etwa  I,  4,  30  ff.  :  '  reject  a  Mine  of  verttie  for  a  Mountain?  of  nuick  ? '  oder 
'  ...  he  lias  blinded  thee  as  blind  as  a  Hat. ' 


—  58  — 

Ganz  konsequent  gelit  der  Dramatiker  allerdings  dabei  nicht 
vor.  Im  allgemeinen  aber  1st  die  Stimmung  das  massgebende 
Element  bei  der  Frage,  ob  Vers  oder  Prosa  in  Betracht 
kommt  —  etwa  wie  Janssen  ')  es  fiir  Shakespeare  nachge- 
wiesen  hat  :  auch  in  unserem  Drama  spricht  dieselbe  Per 
son  hier  in  Versen,  dort  in  Prosa  je  nach  der  Stimmung  der 
Scene.  An  mancheii  scheinbar  abweichenden  Stellen  des 
Druckes  habe  ich  die  Pr^a  in  Verse  zergliedern  konnen, 
wodurch  danii  die  Einheitlichkeit  auch  ausserlich  wiederher- 
gestellt  wurde  (Dr.  I,  4,  102  ff.  und  II,  i,  129  ff.  tuid  Anmer- 
kungeii  dazu).  Uberhaupt  habe  ich  manche  metrische  Unstim- 
migkeit,  die  alle  zweii'ellos  nicht  Sampson,  sonderii  dem  nicht 
immer  einwandfreien  Originaldruck  zuzuschreibeii  sind,  in  den 
Anmerkungen  zu  beseitigen  versucht. 


Die  Prosa  in  Shaksperes  Dramen.  Strassburg,  1897. 


Abdruck. 


Dem  Neudruck  unseres  Dramas  liegt  die  Quarto  der  Dyco 
Collection  im  Victoria  and  Albert  Museum  zu  London  /u 
Gruiide.  Ich  stellte  dort  eine  Abschrift  her  und  verglich  sie  mit 
den  beiden  Drucken  des  Britischen  Museums.  Grosse  Unter- 
schiede  ergaben  sich  dabei  nicht.  Die  Varianten  habe  ich  dcin 
Neudruck  als  Fussnoten  beigegcben.  Ich  unterscheide  die  drci 
Londoner  (Quartos  i'olgendermassen  : 

A  :  Exemplar  der  Dyce  Collection  (Catalogue  1,  853i). 

B  :  Exemplar  des  Britischen  Museums  (Press  Mark  1612  d  66). 

C  :  Das  andcre  Exemplar  des  Britischen  Museums  (Press 
Mark  644  f  45). 

Das  letztere  ist  unvollstilndig.  Es  fehlen  :  Titelseite,  Holz- 
sehnitt,  die  dazugeliorigen  Verse  und  die  erste  Seite  des  Vor- 
worts  '  The  Epistle '.  Es  beginnt  mit  obeii  links  beschiidigter 
Seite  dieses  Vorwortsund  schliesst mit  oben  rechts  beschiidigter 
Seite  des  Dramas.  Der  Abdruck  ist  moglichst  genau,  in  alter 
Rechtschreibung  und  Zeichensetzung — nur  bei  unverstiindlichen 
oder  unklaren  Stellen  des  Origiualdruckes  habe  ich  andeiv 
Zeichen  gesetzt.  Den  A  und  B  schmiickenden  Holzschnitt  gebn 
ich  nach  A  wieder, 


Personert. 


Queen  Elizabeth. 

Lord  Grey  of  Wilton,  general  of  the  English  army. 

Sir  Gervase  Clifton,  leader  of  the  Nottinghamshire  troops. 

Arguile,  leader  of  the  Scots. 

Crosse,  herald  of  Arms. 

Mortigue,  j    Colonels  of  tho  p^nch  force. 

Doy sells,    ) 

Monlucke,  bishop  of  Valence. 

Trnmball,  trumpeter  to  the  Queen  Regent  of  Scotland. 

The  Mayor  of  Nottingham. 

Old  Boote. 

Ann,  his  daughter. 

Ursula,  niece  to  Old  Boote  and  cousin  to  Ann. 

German. 

Mother  Pratlo, 

Magpy,  / 

>  friends  to  Ann. 
Long- tongue, 


Barren, 

Old  Bateman. 

Young  Bateman,  his  son. 

Miles,  the  miller  of  Ruddington. 

Joshua,  a  painter-stainer. 

Ball. 

A  shoemaker. 

Young  Bateman's  Ghost. 

Soldiers,  Prisoners,  Frenchmen,  Aldermen,  Attendants. 


THE 


vow 


B  RE  A KE  R  . 

OR, 

THE    FAIRE    MAIDE 

of  Clifton. 

In  Notinghamshire  as  it  hath  bene  diners  times  Acted  by 
severall  Companies  with  great  applause. 

By    WILLIAM  SAMPSON. 


Virg  :  &n  :  lib  :  2.77. 
Obstupui,  steterantque  Comce,  &  vow  fausibus  hcesit. 


LONDON. 

Printed  by  lOHN  NORTON  and  are  to  be  sold  by 

ROGER  BALL  at  the  signe  of  the  Golden 

Anchor  in  the  Strand,  neere  Temple- 

Barre,  i636. 


The  Illustration. 

^         faitlilesse  woman,  by  her  friends  consent 
Plighted  her  troth  to  Bateman  I  streight  not  cotent 
With  his  revenue  !  Coveting  for  more 
Shee  marries  German  for  his  wealthy  store. 
5  There  Parents  iarr'd,  and  never  could  agree 
Till  both  of  them  were  dround  in  misery. 
Young  Bateman  hangs  himselfe,  for  love  of  her  : 
Shee  drownds  her  selfe  (guilt  plaies  the  murtherer.) 
His  Ghost  afrights  her,  sad  thoughts  doe  her  annoy 
10  (Alive  or  dead  :  tis  shee,  he  must  enioy.) 

The  Morrall  is  Maides  should  beware  in  choise, 
And  where  they  cannot  love,  divert  their  voice. 
Parents  must  not  be  rash,  nor  too  vnkind, 
And  not  for  wealth  to  thwart,  their  Childrens  minde. 
i5  All  is  not  gaind,  that's  got,  (ill  purchasde  wealth, 
Never  brought  comfort,  tranquill,  peace,  and  health.) 
This  president,  this  principle  doth  allow 
Weddings  are  made  in  Heaven,  though  seald  below. 


3, 


TO 

THE  WORSHIPFVLL 

and    most    vertuous    Gentlewoman 

Mistris  Anne  Willoughby  Daughter  of  the 

Bight  Worshipful! ,  and  ever  to  be  Honoured 

Henry  Willoughby  of  Risley,  in  the 

County  of  Derby 

Baronet. 

Worthiest,  and  Noble  Mistries, 


HIS   infant   received    breath,   and  being  under 
your  noble  Fathers  roofe  (my  ever  honored  Ma 
ster)  and  therefore  as  an  Aire-lover  belonging 
5  to   that  Hospitable  Fahricke  '),    it  properly    prostrates 
it  selfe  to  you  for  a  patronnesse.    The   title  of  it  saith 
ignorant     Censurers     (those     Critticall     Monies      that 
have    no     language    but    satirrick    Calumnie)    sounds 
grosse,    and    ignare,     expressing    smal    wit,   and  lesse 
10  judgement,   in  the  Author  to   dedicate  (A   vow-breaker) 
under    the    protection    of   A    Lady,    of    your    Candor, 
beauty,    goodnes,    and    vertues    :    against    those    foule 

moiilhd 

*   Fabric** 


6  The  Epistle.  Dedicatory. 

moiithd  detractors,  who  asmiich  as  in  their  venemous 
hearts  lay,  sought  to  villifie  an  unblaunchd 
ID  Laune,  a  vest  all  puritie,  a  truth  like  Innocence, 
a  temple  of  sanstitie  l),  the  Altar  of  reall  goodnes, 
against  those  brainles  Momes,  I  comply  my  selfe 
with  Plinies  naturall  similie  of  the  Almond- 
tree  :  picke  of  the  Rind,  cracke  the  shell,  yet 

20  set    the     kerne.ll     upright      in      earth,     and     by      na 
tures     helpe     it     regaines     maturity     and     growth 
so    have  your   noble    vertues,   even    with   the  Diamond 
eclipsed   darknesse,   and  from   obscurity  gaind    greater 
lustre     even     then     when     the     two     eldest     sons     of 

25  sin  Enuy,  and  Malice,  sought  to  obscure  them  : 
but  shee  that  hath  not  left  the  earth,  divine 
Astrea,  sacred  iustice,  the  eye,  and  soule  of  the 
law,  hath  vindicated  those  foule  mouthd  detractors  : 
as  you  are  great  in  goodnes,  so  shine  there  still, 

3o  and  let  the  Sun-raies  of  your  vertues  ever  yeild 
honored  hatchments,  &  portments,  to  your  most 
noble  father,  &  his  honored  families,  of  whom  you 
are  a  principall  Columne  :  continue  ever  in  that 
noble  pedigree  of  vertues,  which  your  virgin  purity 

35  hitherto  hath  justly  maintained ;  heaven  keepe  you 
from  faunning  parasites,  and  busie  gossips, 
and  send  you  a  Husband,  and  a  good  one,  else 
may  you  neuer  make  a  Holliday  for  Hymen  ; 
as  much  happines  as  tongue  can  speake,  penn 

4o  write,  heart  thinke,  or  thoughts  imagine,  ever 
attend  on  you,  your  noble  father,  and  all  his 
families,  to  whom  I  ever  rest,  as  my  bounden 
duty, 

A  faithfull  servant, 
WILLIAM  SAMPSON. 


l)  saiictitie 


? 


The  Prologue  to  Gensurers. 

Ruth  sales  the  Author,  this  Time  will  be  bold 
I    To  tell  a  Story,  truer  ne're  was  told, 

Wherein  he  boldly  vouches  all  is  true 
That  this  Time's  spoke  by  us,  or  heard  by  you, 
5  If  Chronicle,  that  ever  yet  gain'd  favour 

May  please  true  Judgments  :  his  true  endeavour 
From  serious  houres  has  gaind  it  :  for  vs 
He  hopes  our  labours  will  be  prosperous. 
And  yet  me  thinkes  I  here  some  Criticke  say 

10  That  they  are  much  abus'd  in  this  our  Play. 
Their  Magistracy  laugh  t  at !  as  if  now 
What  Ninty  yeeres  since  dy'd,  afresh  did  grow  : 
To  those  wee  answer,  that  ere  they  were  borne, 
The  story  that  we  glaunse  at,  then  was  worne 

i5  And  held  authentick  :  and  the  men  wee  name 
Grounded  in  Honours  Prowesse,  Vertues  Fame. 
Bring  not  the  Author  then,  in  your  mislikes, 
If  on  the  Ages  vice,  quaintly  he  strikes 
And  hits  your  guilt !  most  plainely  it  appeares 

20  He  like  a  Taylor  that  hath  lost  his  sheares 

Amongst  his  shreds,  he  knockes  upon  the  board, 
And  by  the  sound  themselues  they  doe  affoord. 
If  in  his  scenes,  he  any  vice  have  hit 
To  you  farre  better  knowne  then  to  his  wit, 
Tak't  to  your  selves  alone  :  for  him,  his  Penn 
Strikes  at  the  vices,  and  not  mindes  the  men. 


, 


Actus  Primus.  Scena  Prima  l}. 

Enter  young  Bateman  meeting  Anne. 


NNE,  My  Bateman. 
.  y.  Ba.  My  sweetest  Nan  ? 

**  An.  Had  I  but  one  entire  affected  Pearle 

Inestimable  unto  vulgar  censure 


And  is  there  none  to  play  the  Theife  but  thou  ! 
5  Oh  misery  would'st  have  thy  love  entrans'd, 
Without  an  eccho  that  would  sigh  farewell. 
Common  curtesie  'amongst  rurall  Hyndes 
With  this  formallity  disciplines  them 
(Kisse  *2)  at  the  departure),  and  you  to  steale  away 

10  Without  my  Privity  ? 

lr.  Ba.  Pray  thee,  no  more  ! 
Teares  are  the  Heralds  to  future  sorrowes, 
I  have  collected  all  that's  man  together 
And  wrastld  with  affections  as  with  streames, 
And  as  they  strive  that  doe  oppresse  the  billowes 

i5  So  doe  I  fare  in  each  externall  part. 

My  Actes  are  like  the  motionall  gymmalls 
Fixt  in  a  VVatcht,  who  winde  themselves  away 
Without  cessation  ;  here  if  I  stay,  I  finde 
I  must  be  where  thou  art !  which  when  I  am 

20  Thy  Fathers  rage  encreases  like  a  flame 
Fedd  by  ungentle  blastes  !  my  absence 

May 


*)  Schauplatz  :  Clifton. 

2)  Die  Sterncheii  weisen  auf  liiugere  Anmerkuugou  hiii. 


10  The  Vow-breaker, 

May  worke  those  bitter  sweeteings  from  his  liart 
And  smooth  the  rising  furrowes  in  his  brow. 
It  is  sufficient  that  I  know  thee  firme 
25  Fixt  as  a  Rocke  in  constancy,  and  love, 
Able  to  ship-wracke  greatnes,  and  despiseth 
A  violated  heart,  as  a  disease. 
I  goe  to  Leith  as  children  goe  to  schoole 
Studying  what  shall  please  my  Mistris  best, 
3o  My  lesson  cond,  I  will  returne  againe 
And  dedicate  my  labours  unto  thee. 

An.  Sweete,  doe  not  goe  ;  and  yet  if  that  you  will 
Leaving  me  here  like  a  forsaken  Lover, 
Prethee,  forget  me  not ;  nay,  be  not  angry, 
35  Souldiers  in  Warre  make  any  saint  their  owne 
Forge  ting  those  they  are  devoted  too  ! 
Tis  I  have  vow'd  to  have  thee  quicke  or  dead, 
Flattering  honours,  nor  dissembling  beauties 
Workes  me  not  from  thee. 

Y.  Bat.  Sweare  not,  sweete  Nan  I 
4o  The  booke  of  fate,  as  now  may  be  unclasp'd 
And  record  what  thou  speak'st. 

An.  Be  it  writ  in  brasse, 
My  love  shall  be  as  durable  as  that ! 
Xow  by  this  kisse,  nay,  I  will  second  that, 
When  I  this  hand  bequeath  to  any  one 
45  But  my  sweete  Bateman,  then  may  I  ever 
From  heaven,  and  goodnes  rest  a  cast-away, 
If  e're  I  give  this  hand  to  any  one 
But  my  sweete  Bateman. 

Y.  Bat.  Thy  constancy  I  resalute. 
Death  onely  separates  me  from  thy  love. 
5o  Alive  or  dead  I  shall  enjoy  thee  then 

Spite  of  thy  fathers  frownes.  Enter  Vrsula. 

Vrs.  Why  then,  up-with  your  bag,   and  baggage,  and 

to  Saint  Maries  presently  ;  the  Priest  stayes,  the  Clarke 

whynes   to   say  Amen  I  and  for  th'   official!,    schollers 

55  love   butterd   loaves,   an   Angel!   will   perswade   him   to 

consent, 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  1 1 

consent,  we  that  live  by  the  shines  of  the  people  may 
dispense  with  veniall  toyes. 
Y.  Bat.  Thou  art  merry  still. 

Vrs.  Faith,  and  shalbe  as  long  as  I  keepe  me  out  of 
60  Cupids  mannacles,  doost  heare,  Lover?  take  her  now, 
thou  hast  her  i'  th  vaine,  trust  not,  we  wenches,  theirs 
asmuch  truth  in  us,  as    in   Knightes    o'th  post,  if  she 
sweare  love  to  day,  shee'le  unsweare  it  to  morrow  with 
a  safe  consciense  ;  stand  not  :  shall  I  —  shall  I  —  take  me 
65  her  to  have,  and  to  hold,  and   if  eyther  of  you  repent 
your  bargaine  within  a  twelue-month  — 
An.  What  then  ! 

Vrs.  Then  you  shall  fetch  no  Bacon  at  Dunmowe  * ;  we 
young  wenches  in  our  loves  are  like  Lapwinges,  if  once 
70  we  creepe  out  o'th  shells,  we  run  from  our  ould  loves 
like  Scopperells ;  weomens  minds  are  plenetary,  and 
amble  as  fast  as  Virginalls  Jackes,  if  you  stop'em  not 
in  true  time,  you  marre  all  your  musique.  See, 
heres  your  Fathers. 

Enter  ould  Boote,  old  Bateman. 
75       lr.  Ba.  Alas,  what  wilt  thou  doe  ? 
An.  Not  shrinke  a  jot  for  thee. 
Bo.  I  charge  thee  on  my  blessing,  leave  that  boy. 
An.   Father !  sir. 
Bo.  Come,  come,  come. 
Must  your  appetite  be  married  to  beggery  ? 
Is  this  the  onely  Phcenix  of  the  World  ? 
80      O.Ba.  Boote,  boote,  boote,  thou  art  malapert,  false,  proud, 
A  wretched  miscreant,  and  dissembler, 
H'  shall  enjoy  her,  shees  his  law  full  wife, 
Thy  hand  enstated  hers,  though  falfely  l)  now 
Thou  plaist  the  counterfet. 

85       Vrs.  Well  said,  ould  cocke,  would  thy  spurrs  were  new 
ro well'd  that  thou  mightst  picke  out  his  eyes. 

Bo.  Still  are  your  eyes  gadding  that  way,  know  this  : 
I'le  sooner  marry  thee  unto  some  slave 
Whom  mine  owne  will  can  subordinate 
90  Kather  then  to  him. 

Y.  Ba.  Ts  vertne  growne  to  so  absurd  a  rate 
It  gaincs 

*)  falsely  BC. 


12  The  Vow-Breaker, 

It  gaines  no  better  credit  with  base  wordlings  1). 

O.  Ba.  Tell  me  Boote, 

Does  not  his  birth,  and  breeding  equall  hers, 
95  Are  not  my  revenues  correspondent 
To  equall  thine  ?  his  purity  of  bloud 
Runs  in  as  sweete  a  streame,  and  naturall  heate 
As  thine,  or  hers ;  his  exterior  parts 
May  parralell  hers,  or  any  others 
100  In  a  true  harmony  of  lawfull  love. 

Wast  not  thine  owne  motion,  didst  not  give  way, 
And  entercourse  to  their  privacies  ? 
Didst  thou  not  make  me  draw  conveighances, 
Did  not  tk'  assurance  of  thy  2)  Lands  seeme  proball  ? 
io5  Boote,  Boote  thou  shall  not  carry  it  thus, 
I'le  make  thee  know  theirs  justice  to  be  had, 
If  thou  denyst  it. 

Bo.  Say  I  grant  all  this  ! 
With  my  selfe  having  deliberated 
I  doe  not  like  'thassurance  of  thy  Lands 
no  Thy  titles  are  so  bangld  with  thy  debts, 

Which  thou  wouldst  have  my  daughters  portion  pay. 
Sir,  sir,  it  shall  not  1 

0.  Ba.  hang  thee,  hang  thee,  miser  ! 
Tis  thy  base  thoughts  forges  these  false  conceits, 
And  but  for  thy  daughter,  I'de,  i'de,  i'de.  * 
u5      Bo.  I'de  —  come,  come  ! 
An.  Father ! 

Y.  Ba.  Deere  sir,  spare  your  fury  1 
Anger  in  old  men  is  a  Lunacy 
That  woundes  the  speakers,  not  the  spectators. 
My  thoughts  are  now  embarqu'd  to  go  for  Leith 
And  see  the  Wars,  I  hope  e're  my  returne 
120  I  shall  finde  temperate  weather  in  your  lookes, 
And  all  these  stormes  vanishd. 

O.  Ba.  Art  thou  so  built  on  her  fidelity  ? 
Take  heede  boy  ;  women  by  kinde  are  fickle, 
Absence  in  lovers  brings  strange  events  ; 

Lovers 

l)  worldlings.     2,  my 


or  the  fayer  ')  Maid  of  Clifton.  13 

125  Lovers  that  hourely  kisse  finde  due  regard, 
But  those  that  absent  are  oft  lose  reward. 
I  doubt  not  of  her  firmenes,  but  tis  common  : 
An  absent  lover  thrives  not  with  a  woman. 
Tis  good  counsell  boy,  and  worth  observance, 

i3o  But  thou  darst  trust  her. 

Y.  Ba.  With  my  life,  sir. 
O.  Ba.  Goe  on  then  in  thy  entended  purpose  ; 
Noble  sir  Jarvis  whose  man  thou  art, 
I  know  will  furnish  thee. 
Bo.  This  works  to  my  designe,  and  gives  free  way 

i35  For  wealthy  Germane  to  my  daughters  love. 
Come  hither,  Nan. 

Vrs.  I  thought  the  wind  was  in  that  doore  ;  by  my  vir 
ginity,  a  young  wench  were  better  be  heire  to  a  swine-heards 
chines,  then  a  rich  mans  bagges  !  we  must  be  coupld 

140  in  wed-locke  like  your  Barbary  horse,  and  Spanish  Gennet, 
for  breede  sake,  house  to  house,  and  land  to  land ;  the 
devill  a  jot  of  love  !  poor  simple  virginity,  that  us'd 
to  be  our  best  Dowry,  is  now  growne  as  bare  as  a  serving- 
mans  cloake  that  has  not  had  a  good  nap  this  seven  yeeres. 

(Scene  2).     Enter  Clifton,  and  a  Shoomaker. 

O.  Ba.  Well,  Boote,  time  may  make  us  friends. 

Bo.  Weele  thinke  on't,  Bateman  ! 

Clif.  How  many  paire  of  shooes,  knave,  ha  ? 

Sho.  By  Saint  Hugh,  sir  Jarvis,  foure  thousand  paire. 

5  Clif.  For  every  knave  two  paire  good  sauce  against  kyb'd 

heeles,  by  my  hollidam  ;  *  well  shod,  and  clad  will  mak'em 

fight  like  men  1  the  North  is  could,    subject  to  frostes, 

and  snowes,  and  tis  bad  fighting  without  vittle,  and  cloth  ! 

for  which  I  have  provided  well  for  both ;  forty  horse  loades, 

10  and  twenty  Carrs  of  vittle,  twill  stop  a  good  breach  in  a 

souldiours   belly  !    my   man   shall   pay   thee,   huff  it ;  my 

Hollidam  I  my  old  Neighbour  rich  Boote,  and  Bateman, 

in  this  brabling  matter  ended  yet?  shall  he  have  her? 

by   my   Hollidam,   not  yet,   the    knave    shall   serve   his 

1 5  Queene  first,  see  the  warres,  where  twill  do  him  good 

to  see 

*)  fayre 


14  The  Vow  breaker, 

to  see  knocks  passe  as  fillips  ;  say,  i'st  done  ? 
Enter  Miles. 

O.  Ba.  Hees  at  your  service. 

Clif.  By  my  Hollidam,  lie  shall  not  want  for  that. 
But  I  am  tardy,  and  my  time  is  precious. 
20  My  Hollidam,  wheir's  this  knave  ? 

Mi.  Faith,  sir,  trading  as  other  knaves  doe  !  sir,  yonder s 
the  Tailor,  the  Weaver,  and  I  the  Miller. 

Clif.  My  Hollidam,  knaves  all  three  !  put  me  a  Tailor, 
a  Weaver,  and  a  Miller  into  a  bag. 
25      ML  And  what  then,  sir? 

Clif.  Why,  he  that  first  comes  out  will  be  a  knave. 

Mi.  Vnder  correction,  sir,  put  me  a  Justice  of  peace, 
an  Officiall,  an  under  Sherriffe  into  a  bag  — 

Enter  Ball,  Joshua. 
Clif.  And  what  then,  knave  ? 

3o    Mi.  Why,   and  they   will  not   come   out,   let  em 'tarry 
their  like  knaves  as  they  are. 
Cilf.  l)  What  a  knave  is  this  ? 

Mi.  Sir,  heres  two  more  appeares  !  th'one  is  mad  Bail, 
old  Huffits  man,  tho'ther  may  be  a  knave  in  graine,  for 
35  any   thing   I   know   i'me   sure   hees    much    given   to    co 
lours,  hees  a  Painter-stainer. 

Clif.  Y'are  both  pres'd,  and  willing  to  serve  the  Queene. 
Bal.  I  am  bend  leather,  and  will  endure  it. 
JosA.  My  name  is  Marmaduke  Joshua  a  Painter-stainer 
4o  by  Art,  and  a  limner  by  profession.  I  am  given  to  the 
meaiies,  and  doe  fructifie  among  the  brethren  ;   it  were 
obnoxious,   and    inutiable,    and    contrary    to   the    sages 
to  presse  me. 

Clif.  W^eele  see  how  you  can  edifie  our  Cainpe. 
45      Josh.  For  the  sistren  commisserate. 

Clif.  Come,  my  old  neighbours,  let  our  Drum  beat  a 
free  march,  weele  have  a  health  to  Queene  Besse,  cry 
St. George,  and  a  fig  for  St. Dennis. 

Enter  Omnes,  nisi  Bateman,  Anne.  2) 
Mi.   Mistris    Vrsula,   tis   not    unknowne    that   I   have 

lov'd 
4)  Clif.        2)  Exeunt  Omnes,  nisi  Bateman,  Anne,  Miles,  and  Vrsula. 


or  the  fayre  Maid  of  Clifton.  15 

5o  lov'd  you ;  if  I  die,  it  shall  be  for  your   sake,   and  it 

shall  be  valiantly ;  I  leave  an  hand-kercher    with   you, 

tis   wrought  with   blew    Coventry ;    let    me   not  at  my 

returne   fall   to  my   old  song,   she  had  a  clout  of  mine 

sowde   with    blew    Coventry,   and   so  hang  my    selfe  at 
55  your  infidelity ;  desiring  Jove  to  blesse  you  from  better 

fortunes  I  leave  you.  Exeunt  l) 

Vrs.  The  foole  doates,  but  tis  no  matter,  tis  no  matter  ; 

tis  Lady  like,  why  should  not  I  have  my  Monkey  to  play 

withall  ? 
60     y.  Ba.  Prethee,  leave  us. 

Vrs.  Heavens  blesse  me  out  of  your  company,  for  fooles 

I  found  3^ou,  and  so  I  must  leave  you  in  spite  of  my  hart.  Exit. 
Y.  Ba.  Xow,  Nan,  heres  none  but  thou,  and  I ;  thy  love 

Emboldens  me  to  speake,  and  cheerfully. 
65  Here  is  a  peece  of  gold,  tis  but  a  little  one 

Yet  big  enough  to  ty,  and  scale  a  knot, 

A  jugall  knot  011  Earth,  to  which  high  heaven 

Now  cryes  Amen  ;  say  thou  so  too,  and  then 

When  eyther  of  us  breakes  this  sacred  bond 
70  Let  us  be  made  strange  spectacles  to  the  world, 

To  heaven,  and  earth. 
An.  Amen,  say  I. 

And  let  heaven  loth  me  when  I  falsifie. 

y.  Ba.  Thou  now  art  like  a  pollishd  jvory  Table 

In  purenes  without  or  staine  or  blemish. 
75  If  thou  shouldst  soile  this  whitenes  with  blacke  deedes 

Thinke  what  a  monster  thou  wouldst  make  thy  selfe. 

I  doubt  thee  not,  but  give  this  cautionary. 

Harke,  the  Drum  beates,  from  the  armes  of  love 

I  now  must  burnish  in  the  Armes  of  warre,  adue. 
80      An.  When  I  prove  false  of  thee  ;  oh,  may  I  then 

Beheld 2)  the  scorne  of  heaven,  earth,  and  men.  Enter  severally  3). 

(Scene  3).  Grey*,  Arguile,  Crosse,Souldiours,  driime,  Colors4). 

As  farre  as  my  Commission,  Arguile, 
I  have  proceeded ;  we  in  the  trade  of  warre 
Whose  Mart  consists  in  blowes,  and  batteries, 
'  Are 

')  Exit  Miles.  2)  behold  3)  Exeunt  severally.  4)  Im  engliscben  Lager  vor  Leith. 


16  The  Vow-breaker, 

Are  like  small  Rivers  that  must  keepe  their  bounds, 
5  Till  the  Queene  Ocean  command  them  rise. 

Dunbarr  *  can  witnes  where  we  skuirmishd  last. 

I  require  the  hostages  be  deliverd 

Twixt  England,  and  the  federary  Lords. 

Arg.  Peruse  this  bedroule  from  Duke  C hattenreault  * 
10  Wherein  their  names  are,  their  persons  attend 

At  Inskeith,  and  with  willingnes  are  bound 

To  attend  the  mighty  Queene  of  England. 

Grey.  LordC/a«c?.  Hambleton,  fourth  son  of  theDuke*, Ro 
bert  Doivglasse,  brother  to  the  Lord  James  Stuart!  Archi- 
i5  baldDowglasse,  Lord  of  Loughennell,  George  Gram,  second 

son  to  the  Earle  of  Menteich  ;  James  Coningham,  son  to 

the  Earle  of  Glencorne  :  all  Hostages  to  the  Queene  of 

England  till  the  Articles  be  performed  betwixt  her,  and 

the  Federary  Lordes.  Herald  of  Armes,  conduct  these  noble 
20  pledges  from  the  red  Brayes*  to  Inskeith,  see'em  delivered 

to  James  Croft*,  and  George  Howard*,  Knigths;  from  thence 

to  be  embarqd  for  England. 

Cro.  I  shall,  my  Lord. 

Gr.  What  number  speake  your  powers  ? 

Ar.  Two  thousand  hardy  Scots, 
25  With  glaved  blades,  bum  daggers,  and  white  Kerchers, 

Such  as  will  fight,  and  face  the  fiery  French. 
Gr.  Our  numbers  then  are  eight  thousand, 

And  still  we  looke  for  more,  sir  Francis  Leake, 

And  gentle  Sir  Jarvis  ;  two  spirits 
3o  That  in  peace  are  lambes,  in  warr  two  ravening  Lyons. 

A  march  ;  Enter  Clifton,  Souldiers. 

Clif.  A  Souldiers  wishes  blesse  my  noble  General!. 
Gr.  Thanks,  valiant  Clifton  ;  they  can  deserve  no  lesse 
Comming  from  thee.  I  see  you  emulate 
That  we  should  take  the  glory  to  our  selves, 
35  I'le  give  the  first  Alar'm,  youle  be  one. 

Clif.  I,  by  my  Hollidam,  at  warre  as  at  a  feast 
I'le  scramble  for  my  part,  and  if  I  catch  a  knocke. 

x  That 


or  the  fayre  Maid  of  Clifton.  17 

That  honour  which  a  Souldiour  wins  in  warrs 
Is  of  low  price  miles  he  bring-  home  scarrs. 

4o       Gr.  Wliat  number,  sir  Jaruis  ? 

Clif.  Five  hundred,  and  fifty  tall  white  coates, 
Fellowes  that  will  face  a  murdering  Cannon, 
When  it  blowes  rancks  into  the  Aire  as  Chaffe, 
Yet  dreadles  they  shall  stand  it,  and  not  shrinke  ; 

45  Right  Nottingham  shire  Lads. 

Gr.  Tis  well  don  ! 

Our  bands  are  well  divided,  yours,  my  Lord, 
Keepe  the  greene  Bul-warke,  mine  the  west  Gate, 
You,  sir  Jarvis,  the  water-ports  to  Tnskeith, 
Pelham*  from  Pelhamus  Mount  plaies  at  the  Towne. 

5o  How  now,  what  Trumpets  this  ? 

A  Trumpet;  Enter  TrumbalL 

Trum.  From  the  Queene  Regent  of  Scotland  I  come 
To  thee,  Lord  Generall  of  the  English  Force. 
She  craves  a  treaty  with  the  Lords  of  England 
To  know  why  thus  they  enter  on  her  groundes, 
55  Depopulate  her  Countries,  Plough  her  Plaines. 
If  lawfull  cause  she  finds  on  enterveiue  *) 
She  will  subscribe  to  England,  sue  for  peace, 
Otherwise  by  Article  sheele  confirm'!  ; 
This  is  under  her  highnes  hand,  and  scale. 
60  This  is  my  message. 

Gr.  Whats  thy  name  ? 

Trum.  Trumball,  Serejant,  Trumpetfer  to  her  Grace. 

Gr.  Her  Princely  offer  we  accept.  Roivge  Crosse, 
Herrald  at  Armes,  command  sir  George  Howard, 
Sir  James  Crofts,  and  my  son  Arthur  Grey 
65  To  shew  her  Grace  my  Soveraignes  grevances. 
I'th  interim  wee'le  sheath  our  burnishd  blades 
Which  had  bene  dide  in  scarlet  long  ere  this  "9 

But  for  thy  message. 

Enter 


*)  entrveiue  C. 


iS  The  Vow-breaker, 

Enter  Trumball.  '). 

Trum.  I  shall  report  you  honourable. 
Clif.  My  Hollidam,  I  like  not  these  signes  of  peace. 
70  These  French  Flyes  worke  on  advantages, 
I'le  not  trust'em. 

Gr.    To   prevent    which    each    stand   on    his    guard ;    your 
eares,  my  Lord. 

Jos.  Resolve  me;   doe  they  kill  men  ith  warrs,  and  ne're 
75  give  warning  ? 

Mi.  Not  so  much  time  Jo,  as  a  theife  has  at  Nottingham 
Gallowes. 

Jos.  Tirany,  tirany  ;  may  a  not  pray  in  sincerity  nor  re 
quest  the  breethren,  and  sisters  to  have  care  of  a  departing 
80  brother  ? 

A/I.  No  Jo  I  nothing  but  downe-right  blowes,  just  as   you 
fell  Okes,  or  kill  Oxen. 

Jos.  Most  heathenish,  and  diabollicall ;  and  do  the  2)  shoote 
Bullets  ? 

85      Mi.  I,  Jo,  as  thicke  as  haile  ;  a  man  may  hit  his  owne  father. 
Jos.    Oh    Infidells,    and    Barbarians ;    what    will    not    the 
wicked  doe,  kill  men  with  bullets  !  oh  these  Guns,  they  are 
dangerous  things,  they  sprung  from  the  whoore,  a  Fryer  was 
the  inventor,  and  the   smell   of  the   Dragon  !    oh,   my  poore 
90  Pusse-cat  ;    sinfull   man   thou   art,    Jo    :    to   bring  the   poore 
Pusse  forth  to  dy  by  a  Gun!  a  poore  Pusse,  silly  harmelesse  Pusse. 
Mi.  Ty  her  behind,  then  if  thou  runst  slice  may  save  thee. 
Jos.  I  run  !    thou  propliane  translator  I  scorne  to  run,  my 
Cat,  and  I  will  enter  battell  'gainst  the  wicked  !  I  run. 
95       Gr.  Why  returne  so  soone  ? 

Enter  Crosse  3). 

Cros.  This  my  Lord, 

Making  for  Edenborough  to  the  Queene, 

Nine  hundred  shot,  and  five  hundred  Corslets, 

Came  forth  of  Leith,  under  the  conduct 

Of  Mortigue*,  and  Doy sells*,  their  Colonells. 
100  We  wish'd  them  peaceably  returne  to  Leitli 
Since 


4)  Exit  Trumball,  Crosse.    *)  they    3)  Re-enter  Crosse. 


or  the  fayre  Maid  of  Clifton.  19 

Since  contrary  to  all  Lawes  of  Armes 
They  now  had  issud.  Mortigue  replide, 
They  on  their  masters  ground  resolved  stood 
And  from  their  mistris  would  not  budge  a  foote 
io5  For  any  English  breathing.  Exit  Crosse  l). 

•  Gr.  Were  not  our  promise  given  to  the  Queene 
On  which  they  build  advantages,  i'de  make 
These  French  Rats  run  as  Wolves  from  fire ; 
Bid'em  retire,  and  tell  them  thus  from  us, 
no  Weele  make  them  win  their  ground  ere  the  2)  stand  on't. 
Nothing  but  circumvention  in  the  French. 

Clif.   By   my   Hollidam,  juglers,   constant   in   nothing 
but  Inconstancy,  thats  the  French  Merchandize. 

Jos.  And  doe  they  fight,  as  it  is  in  the  painted  cloth 
n5  of  the  nine  worthies,  of  Joshua,  Hector,  Caesar,  Arthur, 
Charle-Magne,  Judas,  Machabeus,  and  Godfrey  Bollogine? 
Mil.  Yes,  Jo  :  they  doe. 

Jos.  In  the  painted  cloth  Joshua  stands  formost. 
Bal.  With  his  Cat  in  stead  of  a  Scutchioii. 
1 20      Jos.  Ball,  th ou  art  full  of  rebukes  — 

Enter  Crosse  3). 

Cros.  Anne,  arme,  arme  !  regardles  of  true  honour 
Your  message  is  defide,  and  facing  the  van 
Discharge!  a  thousand  shot  ;  the  Crag-*,  and  Chappell* 
They  make  a  refuge  'gainst  our  great  Artillery. 
125       Gr.  Let  the  bow-men,  shoute  their  flightest  Arrowes, 
As  thicke  as  haile,  the  Musketteers  shall  follow. 
Alarum  then  ;  tis  our  first  enterprise. 
When  cowards  fall  the  valiant  spirits  rise.      Ex.  Omnes. 

After  skirmishes,  Enter  Grey,  Arguile,  young  Rateman 
with  Colors,  Clifton,  Souldioers,  prisoners. 

Gray  :  The  Crag,  and  Chappells  ours,  and  the  French 
i3o  Like  Hares  are  leapd  out  of  fierce  Greyhounds  gripes. 
Doysells,  and  Mortigue,  out-ran  their  Collours, 

And  with 


l)  Die  Uiilmcimnweisung  pcliort  zu  Vors  no.    *)  tliey     •'<)  Re-enter  Cron8e. 


20  The  Vow-breaker, 

And  with  all  expedition  tooke  the  Towne. 
Y.  Ba.  Whose  Colors  I  display. 
Gr.  How  many  of  the  French  this  day  are  falne  ? 
i35      Arg.  Seven  score,  my  Lord,  and  prisoners  of  noble  worth. 
Poiteers,  Augois,  Burbon,  Shamoont,  Shaloone, 
Labrosse,  and  of  the  English  meerely  one  man  slaine. 

Gr.  Thanks  unto  heaven  whose  arme  was  our  defence  ; 
What's  he  that  beares  the  French  armes  displaid  ? 
140       Clif.  A  servant  of  mine,  his  name  Bateman. 

Gr.  Ther's  forty  Angells  for  thy  good  daies  service, 
And  if  thy  merit  retaine,  an  Ancients  place. 

Y.  Ba.  I  thanke  your  honour.  ^ 

Jos.  My  prisoner  is  an  Anabaptist,  all  I  desire  is  that 
i45  I  may  convert  him. 

Mi.    It    must    be    ill's    drinke    then,    else    hees    none 
o'th  right  brethren  ; 

Gr.  Can  *)  noble  Arguile,  and  worthy  Clifton, 
After  these  toiles  of  bloud,  and  massacre, 
i5o  Let's  quench  our  raging  motions  in  the  Grape, 

And  in  the  French-mans  Vine  drinke  his  confusion. 

Proud  France  shall  know  that  our  Elizaes  Name 

Drives  to  confusion  those  that  steale  her  Fame.  Ex.Omnes. 

(Scene  4.) 2)  Enter  Anne,  and  Vrsula. 

An.  Do'st  thou  not  beleeve  it? 

FAS'.  Let  me  faile  of  my  best  wishes,  and  I  doe  ;  I 
cannot  amuse  my  thoughts  to't ;  thou  maist  as  soone 
pcrswade  me  that  a  Spiders  Web  will  catch  a  swarme 
5  of  Bees  as  thou  marry  German  !  his  head's  like  a  Welch- 
mans  Crest  on  St.  Davies  day;  he  lookes  like  a  hoary  Frost 
in  December,  now  Venus  blesse  me,  i'de  rather  ly  by  a  Statue. 

An.  Thou  art  pleasant  still. 

In  iiat'rall  things  we  see  that  Herbes,  and  Plants 
10  In  autumiie  ever  doe  receive  perfection, 
As  they,  so  man,  never  attaines  his  height 
Till  in  the  autumne  of  his  growing  age. 
Experience  like  a  Mistris  beautifies  him 
With 

A)  Come,    2)  Schauplatz  :  Clifton. 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  21 

With  silver  haires,  badges  of  experience, 
i5  Of  wisdome,  honours,  coimsell,  knowledge,  arts, 

With  all  th'endowinens  vertue  hath  in  store. 

Contrarily,  greene  headed  youth, 

Being  in  the  spring  or  summer  of  his  age, 

Is  prone  to  surfets,  riots,  intemperancies, 
20    And  all  the  stocke  of  ills  that  vice  is  queene  of. 

Urs.  Thou  wrests   a  good  text  to  an  ill  sense,  but  none 

but  fooles   would  ly  in  beds  of  snow   that   might   couch   in 

Roses  ;    but  it  may  bee,   Cozen  ;  but  it  may  bee,   Cuz  ;  you 

follow  the  fashion  of  our  Country  Knights  that  marry  your 
a5  old  London  VVidowes  ;  tis  but  keeping  a  handsome  Chamber- 

maide,   they    are    necessary    evills,   and  will    serve    with   a 

small    Dowery    afterwards    to    make    parsons    wives  !    you 

know  my  meaning,  Cuz. 

An.  He  brings  wealth,  promotion,  and  tis  the  way  — 
3o       Vrs.  To  your  ruine  ;  to  your  blacke  father  presently  !  cocke 

him  with  the  herbe  Moly  that  will  put  bloud  in's  cheekes  ! 

let  him    be    dieted    like  your  Barbary  horse  !   heele  iieere 

stand   to   his    tacklings    else ;    feede   him   with    Vipers    flesh 

that  will   make  his   white   head  blacke  !   doost  thou  refuse 
35  youthfull    Bateman    to    ly    with    wealthy    Germane  ?    reject 

a     Mine     of    vertue,     for    a     Mouiitame    of    muck  ?     Cupid 

blesse  thee,  for  i'le  sweare,  he  has  blinded  thee  as  blind  as 

a,  Bat. 

An.  I  lov'd  young  Bateman  in  my  childish  daies, 
4o  Have  vow'd  to  have  him,  and  he  againe  to  me, 

But  what  of  that,  foolish  lovers  vowes, 

Like  breath  011  steele,  as  soone  are  of,as  on  ; 

German  is  wealthy  and  by  him  1  gaine 

Recourse  amongst  the  modest  sages  dames. 
45  Wealth  has  a  priviledge  that  beauty  cannot  l), 

Bateman  is  young,  embellish'd  with  a  naturall, 

Active,  and  generous,  unspotted  beauty  ; 

German  is  old,  indebted  much  to  age, 

Yet  like  ould  sEson,  gold  can  make  him  young, 
5o  Gold  like  a  second  nature  can  elixate, 

Make  the  deformed  faire,  the  faire  seenie  fowle, 

And 

*)  has  not,  ? 


22  The  Vow-breaker, 

And  we  that  love  not,  must  be  tide  to  th'  face  ; 
A  sparkling  eye,  or  a  smooth  pleading  tongue 
Will  not  keepe  hospitality  with  time. 

55  Maides  that  love  young  men  gaine  their  loves  by  stealth, 
We  that  love  old  men,  wed  not  man  but  wealth. 

Vrs.  If  I  beleeve  thee  not,  may  I  turne  Nun  before  rny 
probation  ;  to  be  serious,  let  me  touch  thy  conscience  ;  if 
young  Bateman,  to  whom  I  know  tha'st  vow'd  thy  faith, 

60  should  at  thy  falsehood  fall  into  some  malevoleiicies  in 
him  self  e,  or  on  thee,  t'  wood  greive  thee  to  have  Ballads 
made    on  thee,   to   the    tune   of   the   inconstant  Lover, 
and  have  thy  periuries  piiid  011  euery  Post. 
An.  Conscience  !  pray,  110  more  o'nt. 

65  Vrs.  No,  iiitroth,  for  I  thiiike  th'ast  asmuch  pleasure 
in't  as  a  hangd  man  has  of  his  pardon,  or  a  Dog  with 
a  Glasse  bottle  at's  taile  ;  see  heres  thy  father,  with  him 
the  man  that  must  be,  not  the  fore-man  o'th  Parish, 
but  a  bucke  o'th  first  head. 

Enter  Boote,  Germane. 

70      An.  My  lovely  Germane  ! 
Ger.  My  fairest  Mistris  ! 

Vrs.  If  I  had  not  rather  Kisse  a  muffe  made  of  Cats-skins, 
then  these  mouldy  chops  of  his,  wood  I  might  die  an  An 
chor  ess  e. 
75      Bo.  Now  neece,  whats  your  conceit  of  this  ? 

Vrs.  Faith  Vncle,  i'me  a  woman,  and  they  say,  a  woman 
is  a  wether-Cocke,  for  mine  owne  part  some  are,  I  tliinke; 
and  when  I  thiiike  they  are  not,  i'le  tell  you  my  conceit, 
till  then  i'le  pay  you  with  thinking. 
80       Ger.  Sweet  beauty,  rumor,  that  betters  nothing, 
But  disproportioiiates  every  act, 
Gives  it  out  thus  ;  that  you  are  affianc'd 
To  youthfull  Bateman.  I  wood  not  have  the  curse 
Of  contract  breaking  fall  upon  my  head  ; 
85  (If  it  be  so,  fairely  I  here  acquit  you, 

From  all  engagements  twixt  your  selfe,  and  me, 
If  not,  like  to  a  blessing  I  embrace  you). 

That 


or  the  fayre  Maid  of  Clifton.  23 

That  joynture  which  your  father  most  desir'de 
I  have  confirm'd,  nothing  now  remaiiies, 
90  But  your  reply,  or  mine,  or  whose  you  please. 

An.  Sir,  I  am  yours. 

I  lov'de  young  Bateman  with  an  inward  joy 
Affected  him  beyond  a  common  rate, 
Yet  not  so  farr,  but  that  I  might  reduce 
95  My  vowes,  and  my  affections  to  my  will ; 
For  when  I  saw  how  disproportionate 
Our  jarring  fathers  were,  I  then  began 
To  alienate  all  love,  here  I  renue 
To  whom  it  comes  as  free,  as  bright,  and  pure 
100  As  are  these  unstaind  Lampes  beyond  the  Moone. 

Ger.  Which  as  a  blessing  from  the  heavens  I  take. 

Bo*  You  shall  be  marryed  instantly !  and  Girle,  thou  shalt 
have  one  Bagg  more  fore  this ;  it  gladdes  me  yet,  thou  art  so 
free  from  Bateman.  I  look'd  for  other  demonstrations  ! 
io5  come  German, 

this  night  wee'le  feast,  to  morrow  thou  shalt  be  wed  ; 
At  night  enfold  a  maiden  in  thy  bed. 

Vrs.  Which  if  he  does,  may  she  dy  of  the  pip,  and  goe 
to  the  grave  as  a  Sallet  for  the  wormes.     Exeunt  Omnes. 

Actus  secunda.  Scena  prirna ]). 

• 

Enter  Mortigue,  Doysells,  and  the  Frenchmen  in  Womens  apparell 

with  Pistols. 

A/or.  Omit  this,  Doisells, 

They  now  are  healthing,  and  carrowsing  deepe. 
Now  is  our  time  to  worke  a  stratagem, 
Gaining  these  Trenches  that  oppresse  the  towne. 
5  Thus  as  we  are,  we  passe  without  suspect, 
Nine  Bona  Robas,  nine  stout  Viragoes, 
Nine  manly  lasses  which  will  stand  the  squeake  ; 
Jove  went  a  wenching,  as  we  goe  to'th  warrs  ; 
If  this  exploit  take  roote,  we  build  a  strength 

That 

4)  Vor  Leith. 


24  The  Vow-breaker, 

10  That  nine  months  seidge  cannot  againe  redecme. 
Do.  The  scotch  language  I  am  perfect  in  : 

Encaule  your  selves,  the  l]  enter  on  their  guard. 

Leroy's  the  word,  till  then  let  no  man  stir, 

The  second  Leroy  bids  every  man  to  kill. 
i5  Close,  and  observe. 

Enter  Clifton,  Bateman,  Joshua,  Ball,  Miles,  Souldiers. 

Clif.  Each  man  betake  him  to  his  instruments. 

Keepe  safe  this  Port,  for  'tis  the  sole  defence 

To  our  new  Trenches,  and  raised  Bul-warkes  ; 

If  any  issue  from  the  Towiie  give  fire, 
20  And  the  Alarum  shalbe  answered  quicke  ; 

The  French  are  subtle,  and  in  various  shapes, 

Combine  themselves ;  therefore  to  gaine  the  best, 

Prevent  the  worst  ; 

Jos.  And  they  be  women,  may  we  not  cease  on'em  for  lawfull  prize? 
25       Clif.  To  women,  and  children,  be  mercifull, 

But  trust  none,  the  politicke  Fox  somtimes 

Wrapps  him  self  e  within  the  Lions  skin, 

So  working  prey  upon  the  innocent  Lambe, 

These  French  are  subtle  Foxes. 
3o      Mi.  I  thought  so,  for  a  man  may  smell  their  footings 

As  farr  as  a  fitcliers  ;  z) 

Jos.   And  they    be    Foxes    we    may   smell    'em   out  ;   for   as 

it  is   in   the   painted   cloath,   by   fortune    came    a    Fox    where 

grew  a  pleasant    Vine,    I   will   no   Grapes   said  the    Fox,   the 
35  fruit  is  none  of  mine. 

Y.  Ba.  Sir,  have  you  dispatched  me  ? 
Clif.  My  Hollidam,  thats  true  ? 

What  sudaine  busines  of  so  maino  import 

Calls  thee  from  the  3)  warrs,  where  thou  seest 
4o  Resolved  spirits  rate  their  lives  at  nought 

Regardles  of  all  miseries,  for  honours  ; 

Thou,  a  proficient  in  warrs  Academ, 

Hast  profited  well  ;  the  first  day  an  Ancient 

In  single  duell  taken  !  I  tell  thee,  Bateman, 
45  It  has  woiine  a  great  impression  in  my  Lord. 

Resolve 
4)they    2j  fitchews,  fitchets     *)  thee  C. 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  25 

Resolve  thee  so  ;  1  would  not  have  thee  goe 

To  fish  for  sluuldowes  and  let  goe  the  substance, 

Thou  knowst  my  meaning,  Bateman. 

Y.  Ba.  I  conster  it 

That  your  suspition  deemes  it  to  be  love  ; 
5o  In  sooth,  it  needes  not,  such  a  constant  rocke 
My  love  is  built  on  that  it  cannot  fall. 
I  cannot  fasten  jelousie  in  my  thoughts, 
Knowing  her  loyaltie  ;  great  excuses 
For  my  intended  journey  know  I  none  : 
55  And  to  frame  any  were  but  negatives. 
Yet  in  my  sleepes  I  have  strange  visions, 
Which  waking  1  cannot  thrust  from  memory. 
I  doe  beseech  your  licence,  let  me  goe. 

Clif.  My  letters  want  but  sealing,  follow  me 
Go  To  the  Generalls  Tent,  Exeunt.  l) 

Mi.  Fellow  Bateman,  farewell,  commend  me  to  my  old 

windmill  at  Kudington,  oh,  the  Mooter  dish,  the  Millers 

thumbe  and  the  maide  behinde  the   Hopper  !  tell  mis- 

tresse  Vrsula,  I  fight  for  her  sake,  and  will  live  as  long  as 

65  I  can,  dy  when  I  can  no  longer  live,  yet  will  love  her  in 

spight  of  her  hart ;  in  stead  of  nutmeggs,  and  ginger,  I 

send  her  the  three  bawbees  I  got  at  Dundee.  I  will  fly 

on  her  at  my  returne  with  the  verses  out  of  now  Hero, 

and  Leander,  oh  Vrsula,  Vrsula  pity  me  with  a  dildo,  dildo, 

70  dillory  ! 

Ba.  Commend  me  to  the  Bells  of  St.  Maries,  and  tell'em 
my  Chops  water  to  chime  all  in  1 

Jos.  As  it  is  in  the  painted  cloath,  in   morning  still 
when  thou  doost  rise  see  that  in  minde  thou  have  to 
75  spend  the  day  that  doth  ensue  as  bed  might  be  thy  Grave; 
commend  me  to  my  learned  brother  Spritchall  the  Cobler 
of  Notingham  brig  2),  and  bid  him  looke  up,  and  give  me 
a  coale,  wishing  him  good  health,  as  my  cat,  and  I  was  at 
the  making  hereof  *. 
80       V.  Ba.  1  will  be  mindfull  of  you  all,  farewell  3). 

Mor.  Now  is  the  time,  make  your  appearance  1 

Mi.  Shoote,  shoote  ! 

Doy*  An  the  bred  an  gad  man,  speare  the  bonny  lasses ! 
Ball. 

i)  Exit.    Abridge,    3)  Exit. 


26  The  Vow-breaker, 

Ball.  Downe  with  the  bonny  Bels  ! 

85  Jos.  Have  some  compunction  th'are  the  weaker  Vessels,  for 
as  it  is  in  the  painted  cloath,  be  meeke,  and  gentle,  and  thy 
selfe  shall  finde  a  quiet  conscience,  and  a  tranquill  minde. 

ML  By  'th  masse,  a  prety  boote,  hailing,  hansome  pagies  ; 
each  one  take  one,  and  examine  the  prickers  ! 
90  Jos.  Thy  counsels  smels  of  piety,  and  thus  I  begin  the 
conversion  of  a  sinner  !  —  urn  -  -  she  Kisses  well,  verily  ; 
againe,  I  will  edifie  on  your  lips  —  are  you  of  the  Family 
of  Love,  sister  —  ha  — 

Mor.  An  the  beanes  of  me,  ise  a  pure  lurden. 
g5      ML  And  what  are  you,  prety  morsell  ? 

Doy.  An  the  dele  an  the  crag,  ise  a  Lardes  wife  ganging 
to  seeke  iny  Lourden  ; 

M.  l)   And    you    are   ganging   to   your   Lurden,    that  your 
Lurden  may  catch  you  by  the  crag,  and  claw  you  are  the 
100  weame,  till  your  guts  garr  haggergath,  haggergath. 

Jos.  Will  you  be  contented  to  leave  the  wicked,  and  live 
among  the  familists,  exercising  your  body  in  the  brether- 
hoods  cause  ? 

Mor.  An  the  Lard  nare  thee  with  an  my  bare  bones. 
io5      Jos.  Kisse  againe,  then   -  -  in  sincerity,   she  Kisses  open 
mouthed  like  a  zealous  sister  — 

Bal.  And  you  can  wash,  and  scoure,  and  helpe  to  launder 
the  campe,  and  dresse  the  booties  we  steale,  and  at  night  be 
content  to  Kennell  with  me  in  straw  ? 
no      Sol.  I,  by  Saint  Andrew  I 

Jos.  Let  us  congregate  our  selves,  and  ponder  on  their 
miseries. 

Doy.  Now  is  the  time,  each  man  draw,  and  fight.    Shoote,  and 

Alarum. 

Alarums,  the  French  beate  of\  place  themselves  on  the  Walls 
hanging  out  a  head;  Enter  Clifton,  Souldiers. 

Clif.  Well  fought,  my  harts  :  though  we  have  lost  one  man 
n5  Whose  head  they  basely  pearch  upon  the  Walls. 
Base  minded  Doysels,  cowardly  Mortigue, 
Though  all  advantages  in  warr  are  lawfull 

Th'are 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  27 

Th'are  not  commendable  ;  you  came  like  your  selves 
French ii'i'd  truls,  to  scould  us  from  our  Trenches 
120  But  not  to  beate  us.  come  either  of  you  single, 
And  fight  with  Clifton,  if  not  one,  come  both, 
And  by  my  countries  honour,  no  man  heere 
Shall  dare  to  touch  you  but  this  arme  of  mine. 

Doy.  Vex  not  thy  selfe,  old  man,  tis  but  one  head, 
125  We  came  for  more,  but  rest  suffiz'd  with  this. 

Clif.  And  for  that  one  a  thousand  dastard  French 
Shall  deerely  pay  ;  Count,  I  shall  meete  thce  ? 
Mor.  Clifton,  thou  maist ! 

Clif.*    By    my    Hollidam ;     our    meeting   will    seeme   rough, 
i3o  our     parting    faire  !     make    this     thy    quarrel,    I    pronounce 
thy    Queene   defective  in  beauty,    vertues,    honours,    unto    my 
mistris,  Englands  royall  BESSE  ! 
Mor.  Traitor,  thou  lyest  ! 
Clif.  Have  I  sturd  thy  bloud  ? 

i35       Mor.    With    such    an    overture,    but    thy    barbarous     head 
nothing  can  calme  it ! 

67z'/'.  When  next  we  meete  we'le  try  it ! 
Each  man  unto  his  charge,  for  one  mans  head 
A  thousand  Frenchmen  shall  be  slaughtered.  Ex.  Omnes. 

(Scene  2.)  *)  Enter  Vrsula. 

Vrs.  Good  Wives,  Widowes,  and  young  wenches,  pardon  me, 
for  I  am  touched  in  conscience  to  raile  on  my  owne  sexe ; 
I  blame  not  those  mysogynists  that  say  women  are  fro  ward,  in 
constant,  and  what  not ;  I  protest,  I  begin  to  mistrust  mine  owne 
5  thoughts  ;  I'am  quite  out  of  love  with  all  womens  goodncs  ; 
fie  upon  us  weather-cocks,  of  all  things  sublunary  the  worst 
of  creatures  ;  we  painted  sepulchers,  rotten  braveries,  silly 
Ciphers  untill  mens  figures  supply  us,  and  yet  we  cannot 
render  'em  a  constant  minute  ;  all  this  is  manifest  in  my  new 
10  Bride,  she  that  yesterday  gave  faith  to  one,  the  next  day  mar 
ried  another ;  and  now  married  slices  sicke  of  the  sullens, 
shee  wants  youth  to  enflamc,  and  give  satietie  a  fresh 
appetite ;  fie  upon  us  Moone  Calves,  and  created  Fooles  be 

those 


Schauplatz  :  Clifton. 


2S  The  Vow-breaker, 

those  men  that  credits  us  !  see,  i'me  cut  off. 
Enter  young  Bateman. 

i5       Y.  Ba.  1  weare  that  visage  formerly  I  did, 

Six  Moones  has  not  so  metamorphos'd  me, 

But  that  I  may  be  knowne  ;  all  my  friends, 

My  familiar  sociates,  and  acquaintance 

Carelessely  passe  me  with  a  heavy  glance, 
20  As  if  I  were  some  rioter,  or  prodigall 

Who  having  ship-wrackt  reputation 

After  an  act  of  banquerout,  compounds 

With  debitor,  and  creditour  ;  others 

Shake  me  by'th  hand,  but  with  such  lenity 
25  As  if  I  burnt  them,  or  that  I  from  the  warrs 

Had  brought  home  some  diseases,  as  Killing 

As  the  Plague,  or  more  infectious. 

My  father  whether  for  joy  or  sorrow, 

As  teares  be  answerable  to  both  passions, 
3o  But  he  wep'd,  cride,  welcome  home,  and  sight, 

As  if  some  drops  of  bloud  fell  from  his  hart. 

Heaven  has  a  hand  in  all  things  ;  if  that 

My  Nan  be  well,  we  will  dispense  with  greifes 

Of  lower  kindes  Kind  ;  cozen  Vrsula  !  Musique. 

35       Vrs.  Y'are  welcome  home,  sir. 

y.  Ba.  How  fares  my  sweetest  Nan  ? 

Vrs.  Sooth,  badly,  she  has  beene  Planet-strucke  e're  since  you 

went ;  she  fell  into  a  Lethargy  since  none,  a  kind  of  qualme 

came  o're  her  stomacke  like  a  Crampe  or  a  Conuulsion. 
4o       y.  Ba.  The  meaning  of  this  Musique  ? 

Vrs.  We  had  a  Wedding  to  day,  and  the  young  fry  tickle 

trench-more.  Jervis,  and  Nan  are 

y.  Ba.  A  Wedding,  and  here  this  day  !   in  the  Window  l). 

Blesse  me,  what  prodigious  Object 
45  Is  yond,  that  blasts  mine  eies,  and  like  a  theife, 
Steales  my  understanding  !  certes  tis  shee. 

Is  it  not  ?  speake  Vrsula  ! 

Vrs. 

d)  German,  and  Nan  are  in  the  Window. 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  29 

Vrs.  I  know  not,  for  had  shee  as  many  bodies  as  harts,  she 
might  be  here,  and  yonder  too. 
5o       Y.  Ba.  Now,  by  my  life  — 

Vrs.  Xay,  sweare  not ;  if  you  have  any  ill  language  to 
spare  I'le  send  my  Cozen  to  you  presently.         Exeunt  l). 

Y.  Ba.   Strange  feares  assaile  my  senses,  and  begins 
Conflicts  of  despaires,  doubts,  and  feares, 
55  And  but  I  have  a  resolution  fixt 
On  her  fidelity,  this  frontispice 
And  other  entertainments  might  confirme 
Former  presages. 

Enter  Anne,  Vrsula. 

An.  Who  1st  would  speake  with  me  ? 
60      Vrs.  One  that  may  be  jealous  though  he  weares  no  yellow. 

y.  Ba.  Her  sight  like  to  a  cordiall  has  expell'd 
All  former  grosse  suggestions,  me  thinkes 
I  tast  my  happines  e're  I  touch  it. 

An.  Beshrew  thy  hart  for  this. 

65  Vrs.  Beshrew  your  owne  false ;  if  their  be  ill  tis  of  your 
owne  begetting;  i'le  provide  Cocke-brothes,  and  caudles  for 
your  old  Cock-sparow.  Exeunt  *). 

lr.  Ba.  Shees  dumbe  with  joy,  and  I  like  to  a  man 
Intranc'd  with  joyes  un-utterable,  cannot  speake. 
70  But  I  have  lost  my  selfe,  I  am  awake, 

And  see  a  substance  more  then  dreamers  doe  ; 
Thus  in  the  armes  of  love  I  doe  enfould  thee. 
An.  I  doe  not  know  you  —  touch  me  not ! 
Y.  ba.  I  wonder  then  how  I  dare  know  my  selfe, 
70  When  thou  forget'st  me.  I  had  thought 
Had  I  ben  sullide  with  the  sooty  Moore, 
Or  taii'd  with  heate  like  some  Egiptian  slave, 
Or  spoted  like  the  Persian  Leopardes, 
Or  in  the  worst  forme  can  be  termn'd, 
80  Or  imagin'd,  yet  thou  coulds  have  knowne  me  ; 
I  am  thy  Bateman,  Nan  ! 
An.  It  you  be  Bateman, 

T'were 


Exit.    2)  Exit. 


30  The  Vow -breaker, 

T'were  best  you  traveld  from  my  fathers  ground 
Least  lie  indite  you  ? 

Y.  ba..  If  lie  should,  yet  if  thou  stand  the  judge 
85  I  know  thou  wilt  acquite  me  of  the  crime. 

But  thou  art  pleasant,  and  like  to  a  tender  nurse 
Heightens  my  infant  joyes  before  it  comes  ; 
Be  not  so  strange,  this  nicety  in  you 
Hat  *)  not  beene  usuall. 
90      An.  It  must  be  now,  for  /  am  married. 

Y.  ba.  I  know  thou  art,  to  me,  my  fairest  Nan. 
Our  vowes  were  niade  to  Heaven,  and  on  Earth 
They  must  be  ratifide,  in  part  they  are 
By  giving  of  a  pledge,  a  peice  of  Gold, 
95  Which  when  we  broke,  joyntly  then  we  swore 
Alive  or  dead  for  to  enjoy  each  other, 
And  so  we  will  spight  of  thy  fathers  frownes. 

An.  You  talke  idely,  sir  ;  these  sparks  of  love 
That  were  twixt  you,  and  /,  are  quite  extinct. 
100  Pacific  your  selfe  ;  you  may  speede  better  ; 

Youle  show  much  wit,  and  judgement  if  yon  2)  doe. 
Y.  ba.  She  floutes  me. 

An.  If  you  will  be  wise,  and  live  one  yeere  a  batchelour 
tis  ten  to  one,  lhats  odds,  I  bury  my  husband,  e're  /  weare 
io5  out  my  wedding  Ring. 

Y.  ba.  Ha  !  a  Ring,  and  on  the  right  finger  two  !  3) 
Thou  plaist  the  cruell  murtherer  of  my  joyes, 
And  like  the  deadly  bullet  from  a  Gun, 
Thy  meaning  kills  me,  e're  thy  words  gets  vent, 
no  Whose  Ring  is  that  ? 
An.  My  Husbands. 
Y.  ba.  And  art  thou  married  ? 
An.  I  am. 
y.  ba.  When  ? 
n5       An.  This  Day. 

y.  ba.  Accursed  Day  !  to  whom  ? 
An.  To  wealthy  German. 
Y.  ba.  To  wealthy  misery  ! 

Now 


*)Has    2)  you    3)  too  ! 


or  the  fayre  Maid  of  Clifton.  31 

Now  my  presaging  visions  doe  appeare  ; 
120  Th'  unusuall  gestures  of  my  mornefull  friends 

I  now  perceive  was  thine  ;  false  woman 

As  subtle  in  deceit  as  thy  first  grandam, 

She  but  deceiv'd  her  selfe,  deceiving  man 

As  thou,  her  jmpe  of  subtil ty,  has  done. 
125  Strengthen  me,  you  ever  Hollowed  l)  Powers, 

Guard  me  with  patience  that  /  may  not  curse, 

Because  /  lov'd  her  ;  be  assured  this, 

Alive  or  dead  thy  promise  thou  shall  keepe 

I  must,  and  will  enjoy  thee  ! 
i3o      An.  And  may  I  tell  you,  if  youle  stay  my  husbands 

Funerall,  I'le  promise  you,  i'le  mourne,  and  marry  all  in  a 

month. 

lr.  ba.  Ah  monstrous  ;  she  plaies  with  my  disasters 

As  boyes  with  bubbles  blowne  up  into  aire  ; 
i35  You  that  have  care  of  innocents,  be  my  guard 

Least  /  commit  some  outrage  on  my  selfe. 

For  such  an  overture,  and  flood  of  woes 

Surroundes  me,  that  they  almost  droun'd 

My  understanding  ;  thy  perivries  shall  be  writ 
140  With  pens  of  Diamonds  upon  Leaves  of  steele, 

And  kept  as  statutes  are  to  show  the  world. 

You  constant  Lovers  that  have  truely  lov'd 

Without  foule  thoughts  or  lustfull  appetites, 

Come  waile  with  me,  and  when  your  swelling  brests 
i45  Growes  big  with  curses,  come  sit  downe,  and  sigh. 

Such  an  inconstant  faireon  I  have  met 

Whose  deeds  I  shame  to  nominate,  yet  she 

Sham'd  not  to  doe  them. 
An.  Prety  passion  this,  ha,  ha,  ha  ! 
Y.  ba.  Take  thy  good  night  of  goodnes  ;  this  night 
i5o  Thy  bridall-night  take  leave  of  sacred  vertue. 

Never  thinke  for  to  be  honest  more, 

Never  keepe  promise,  for  thou  now  maist  sweare 

To  any,  thou  never  meau'st  to  doe. 

Hold,  swelling  heart,  for  thou  art  tumbling  downe 
i55  A  hill  of  desperation  ;  darke  thoughts 

Assaults 

i   Hallowed 


:  ._  -  -.  - 


rr*.K*v 


- 


H  f  ••" 


:  11    - 


?a 


- 


- 


••fflHj- 


34  The  Vow-breaker, 

Valour  into  my  hart,  strength  to  this  arme 
1 5  Which  thou  shalt  feel  to  thunder  on  thy  Helme  ; 
Guard  thee,  Frenchman,  i'me  sure  thou  canst  not  fly  ; 
Bravely  i'le  kill  thee,  or  else  bravely  dy. 
Th'art  my  prisoner,  Doy sells. 

Fight,  Clifton  disarmes  him;  Enter  Grey,  Arguile,  Souldiers. 
Mor.  Through  chance  of  warre  /  am. 
Arg.  Hew  him  in  peeces  ! 
Clif.  By  my  Hollidam, 

20  My  life  shall  stand  betweene  him,  and  danger  ; 
He's  my  prisoner,  and  by  the  Law  of  Armes 
Yeilding  himselfe  a  Captive  to  our  mercy, 
His  life  is  ransomable ;  let  our  Generall 
Decree  his  ransome,  and  after  dispose  of  him. 
25       Gr.  Noble  Clifton,  his  ransome  is  thine  owne, 
Dispose  of  him  as  thou  pleasest. 

Clif.  By  my  Hollidam,  and  will. 
There  take  thy  Armes,  returne  backe  to  Leith 
With  our  best  convoy  ;  I  tell  thee,  Mortigue, 
3<>  My  hatred  is  not  capitall,  though  honour, 
And  warrs  necessity  made  me  storme  ; 
When  to  these  walls  thou  seest  my  white  coates  come 
With  scaling  ladders  to  assault  the  Towne 
Be  mercifull  as  I  have  bin  to  thee  ; 
35  This  is  all  Cliftons  ransome. 

Mor.  I  shall  report  thee  noble  ! 
Gr.  Thanks,  noble  Clifton, 

Thou  still  ad'st  honour  to  thy  Countries  fame  ; 
Make  scaling  Ladders,  for  we  straight  intend, 
By  heavens  assistance  to  mount  these  walls ; 
4o  Courage,  brave  spirits,  every  act  finds  end, 

Weele  teach  the  Frenchman  keepe  within  his  bounds 
Or  send  him  home  full  of  heroicke  wounds.  Exeunt  Omnes. 

(Scene 4.) ])  Young  Bateman  ins  shirt,  a  halter  about  his  necke. 

Y.  Ba.  It  tis  2)  resolved  !  life  is  too  burthensome, 

I've 


*;  Schuuplatz  :  Clii'tou.    *)  It  is 


or  the  fayre  Maid  of  Clifton.  35 

I've  borne  while  T  can,  and  have  supprest 

All  insurrections  pale  Death  has  made. 

It  is  my  terrour  that  I  live  to  thinke 
5  I  beare  a  life  that  is  offensive  to  me. 

Pale  monster  in  thy  meagerest  aspect, 

Come,  and  affront  me  ;  fill  thy  unpauncht  nerves 

With  my  harts  blond  ;  till  with  the  overture 

Thy  never  satisfied  maw  be  sated  1 
10  But,  cowardly  monster,  thou  approchest  none 

But  those  that  fly  thee,  and  like  to  greatnes 

\Youldst  be  so  elivated  for  doing  good, 

That  of  thy  selfe  thou  never  didst  intend. 

Poore  Snakes,  that  in  wordly  sorrowest  sowrst  l), 
i5  Cannot  participate  thy  Ebon  Dart. 

Tis  said  thou  art  not  partiall,  and  dost  winde 

The  Prince,  the  begger,  and  the  potentate 

All  in  one  mould  ;  but  they  doe  falsifie 

That  say  thou  art  so  tiranously  just ; 
20  For  I  have  sought  thee  through  the  unpend  groves, 

The  shady  cells  where  melancholly  walkes, 

And  eccho-like  thou  answerst  me  with  Death, 

But  darst  not  show  thy  face  ;  the  worlds  monarch 

In  three  fits  of  an  Ague  di'd.  Some  flyes, 
25  Some  silly  gnats  can  kill  !  let  me  consume, 

then  maist  thou  brag  thy  conquest,  that  thou  slewst 

What  neyther  love  nor  hatred  could  destroy. 

Since  thou  disdainst  me,  I  disdaine  thy  power, 

There  be  a  thousand  waies  to  cozen  Death. 
3o  Behold  a  Tree,  just  at  her  doore,  a  fruitlesse  Tree 

That  has  in  autumne  cast  her  leavy  boughs 

Sorry  to  show  such  fruit  as  she  produces. 

The  night  seemes  silent,  sleep  charmes  the  house, 

And  now  the  periurd  woman  is  a  topping  ; 
35  I'le  clime  as  high  as  she,  yet  i'le  not  rest  ; 

My  airy  ghoast  shall  find  her  where  she  lyes, 

And  to  her  face  divulge  her  perjuries. 

Night  be  auspicious,  draw  thy  sable  weedes, 

For 

*)  sowr 


36  The  Vow-breaker, 

For  day-light  is  a  asham'd  l)  of  her  blacke  deeds. 
40  One  twich  will  do't,  and  then  I  shall  be  wed 
As  firme  unto  my  graA^e,  as  to  her  bed. 

Falls,  hangs,  Enter  old  Bateman  i'ns  shirt,  &  Torch. 

O.  Ba.  I've  miss'd  my  boy  out  of  his  bed  to  night. 
Heavens  grant  that  he  be  well,  for  in  his  eyes 
Sad  discontentment  sits  !  till  yesterday 
45  I  never  saw  him  so  propense  to  sorrow, 

Nor  deepely  touch'd  with  distemperature  ; 
-  When  I  began  to  tell  him  of  his  mistris 
Which  I  in  violence  of  wordes  branded 
With  damned  perjury,  as  Heaven  knowes 
5o  She  has  consum'd  her  goodnes,  then  would  he 
Sit  by,  and  sigh,  and  with  salt  teares  trilling 
Downe  his  cheekes,  entreat  me  not  to  name  her  ; 
Curse  her  I  must  not  !  then  would  he  steale  to  bed, 
As  full  of  mournfull  sorrowes  as  a  sinner. 
55  Tis  almost  morne,  and  I  suspect  him  here 
Hovering  about  this  house  !  oft  would  he  say 
He  woo'd  her  underneath  a  Plume-Tree, 
And  underneath  that  Tree  he  vow'd  to  sit, 
And  tell  his  sorrowes  to  the  gummy  boughes 
60  Though  she  disdaind  to  here  them  !  protect  me  ! 
Good  Angells,  guard  me,  what  heavy  sight  is  this 
That  like  a  sullen  sadnes  reaves  my  sense  ? 
Prove  false,  mine  eies,  that  this  may  prove  untrue  ! 
Better  you  never  had  seen  then  to  see  this. 
65  Leave  your  slimy  cesternes,  and  drop  out  ; 
Tis  he,  tis  he,  would  I  could  tell  a  ly, 
The  falsest  one  that  e're  was  tould  by  man 
That  this  might  prove  untrue  ;  but  tis  in  vaine 
To  darke  the  Sunne,  or  wrastle  'gainst  the  truth. 
70  Murtherers,  looke  out,  i'le  rowze  the  thunderer, 

To  rowze  you  from  your  sleepes  !  false  feinds,  come  out, 
And  see  a  deede,  the  day  wilbe  asham'd  of 
Caus'd  by  your  perjuries. 

Bo, 
*)  is  ashamed 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  37 

Bo.  Whoes  that  which  calls  Boote,  Anne, 

With  horrid  terrour,  and  such  aff rightments  Vrsula,  above. 
75  As  when  skatli  fires  devast  our  villages?  l) 

O.  Ba.  Looke  this  way,  monster  !  see,  thou  adultresse  ! 
Behold  the  miserablest  Map  of  woe 
That  ever  father  mourn'd  for  ;  my  poore  boy, 
Hard-harted  fate  that  brought  thee  to  this  end, 
80  Hated  Vipers  they  that  were  the  causers, 

Bo.  How  darst  thou,  Bateman,  come  upon  my  ground  ! 
O.  Ba.  Curs'd  be  thy  ground,  and  curs'd  be  all  trees 
That  brings  forth  such  a  bortive  2)  fruit  as  this  ! 

Bo.  Ha,  ha,  has  —  he  hang'd  himselfe,  and  sav'd  justice 
85  a  labor  ? 

An.  I  never  look'd  for  better  end  of  him,  he  had  a 
malevolent  aspect  in  his  lookes,  ha,  ha,  ha  ! 

O.  Ba.  Laughst  thou,  Crocadile  ? 
Are  miseries  lamented  with  contempts  ? 
90  The  bookes  of  fate  are  not  so  closely  shut, 
But  they  may  open,  and  record  the  scornes 
Dwelling  in  every  Region  of  thy  face  ! 
A  fixt  decree  may  be  set  dowue  for  thine, 
And  thou  maist  Swan-like  sing  a  Funerall  O'de, 
g5  Who  then  shall  laugh  at  thee  ? 

Bo.  I  laugh  to  see,  how  well  sorrow  becomes  thee. 
O.  Ba.  Such  dire  becomings  maist  thou  never  want ; 
Thou  that  wert  once  the  Jewell  of  these  eies, 
Looke  here,  and  see  the  ruines  of  pale  death, 
100  How  soone  a  Gorgeous  Pallace  is  suncke  downe  ; 
Though  he  has  surfetted  upon  this  peece 
He  has  not  tane  the  coulour  of  his  cheeke  ; 
Nature  contests  with  death,  and  will  out-doe  him  ; 
Canst  not  thou  spare  one  teare  to  balme  him  in, 
io5  Nor  lend  a  sigh  as  sorry  for  his  fall  ? 

If  not  to  day  i'le  come  againe  to  morrow  ; 
So  thou  wilt  shed  two  teares,  and  one  poore  sigh, 
Then  gentle  Charon  will  assigne  him  wafftage  ; 
Thy  greifes  are  violent,  and  worke  within, 
no  Tis  a  fowle  signe  of  an  unpersant  hart 
When 

*)  vilages  BC    *)  abortive 


38  The  Vow-breaker, 

When  as  the  eyes  cannot  impart  a  teare. 
Since  none  of  you  will  weepe,  i'le  wecpe  alone 
Till  Niobe  like  my  teares  convert  to  stone. 

An.  Had  you  discipline!  your  sonne  in's  youth 
n5  You  might  then  have  prevented  your  teares  ! 
Cause  he  was  bad,  and  7  did  shun  his  evils, 
Must  7  be  held  the  cause'res  of  his  ils, 
Must  my  vertues  beget  his  perversnes, 
Or  my  obedience  breede  his  shamefull  death  ; 
120  If  the  World  ballance  me  uprightly  just 

I  care  not  then  which  way  you  turne  the  Scales  ; 

O.  Ba.  Worse  then  the  worst  that  ever  could  be  nam'd. 

An.  My  best  counsell  is  that  you  bury  him  as  the  custom e 

of  the  Country  is,  and  drive  a  stack  e  through  him ;  so  perhaps 

125  /  that  had  no  quietnes  with  him,  whilst  he  liv'd,  may 

sleepe  in  peace  now  he's  dead. 

0.  Bat.  I  will  not  curse  thee,  t'was  my  boyes  request. 
Such  deedes  as  these  sinke  not  in  oblivion, 
The  justnes  of  my  cause  /  leave  to  Heaven. 
i3o  Maist  thou  live  mother  of  many  children, 
And  may  they  prosper  better  then  did  mine. 
Come,  poore  boy,  these  armes  have  borne  thee  oft ; 
I'le  have  thy  picture  hung  up  in  my  Chamber, 
And  when  7  want  thee,  7  will  weepe  to  that. 
1 35  Deaths  Leaden  Plummets  draw  thine  eielids  downe  ; 
Since  none  will  sing  sadd  obsequies  but  7, 
I'le  call  the  Linner,  Red-brest,  and  the  Throstle, 
The  Nightingale  shall  beare  the  burthen  two, 
For  she  is  exquisite  in  tragicke  notes  ; 
140  W^eele  have  a  Funerall  hymne,  and  o're  they  ')  herse, 

This  womaiis  perjuiries  i  le  pen  in  verse.  Enter  2). 

An.  How  now,  cozen,  weeping? 
Vrs.  Troth,  Cozen, 

Though  griefes  of  lower  kinds  assaile  me  not, 
i45  I  never  was  so  touch'd  unto  the  hart ; 

Mine  eies  so  flexible  are  to  melt  in  teares, 
I  cannot  stop'em  ;  7  shall  be  still  affraid 

To 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  39 

To  walke  to  'th  doore  when  /  behold  this  Tree, 
For  feare  his  Ghost  haunte  me  !  /  wonder  much, 

i5o  You  could  forbeare  from  passionating. 

An.  Affraid  on's  Ghost,  as  much  as  of  a  picture  painted 
o'th  wall!  thats  just  like  we  fooles  that  rub  our  shins  'gainst 
the  bed  posts  in  our  dreames,  and  then  sweare  the  fairies 
pinchd  us !  he  swore  he  would  have  me  quicke  or  dead.  Let 

i55  him  ly  still  ill's  grave,  /  will  in  my  bed,  and  let  consequents 
prove  the  rest ! 

Bo.  Ghosts,  Hobgoblins,  will  with  wispe,  or  Dicke  a  Tues-day. 
Thy  husband,  wench,  this  morne  journeyes  to  New-Castle 
And  hardly  will  returne  these  twelve  Moones  ; 

160  Let's  feast  with  him,  for  Ghosts,  and  such  like  toyes 

Leave  them  to  foolish  dotards,  girles,  and  boyes.    Exeunt  Omnes. 

Actus  Tertius.  Scena  Primal 

Enter,  Anne  hastily,  pursuing  Vrsula,  with  lights  : 

An.  Keepe  of,  keepe  backe,  /  charge  thee. 
Vrs.  Las,  Cozen,  i'me  not  infectious,  my  breath  cannot  blast  you ! 
An.  It  haunts  me  as  my  shaddow  or  a  vision  ! 
It  will  not  let  me  rest,  fleepe  2),  nor  eat ; 
5  The  barricoded  3)  doores,  and  ironlocks, 
No  sooner  shut  but  like  a  new  clasp'd  booke 
Their  leavy  hindges  streightway  fall  asunder, 
And  it  gets  in  ;  /  wonder  tis  not  here  ; 
This  is  a  gentle  respit,  and  not  usuall  ; 
10  Since  German  went  /  never  had  so  much  ; 
It  plaies  the  centinnell  at  my  beds  feete ! 
And  but  it  wants  the  rosie  coloured  face, 
Whom  meager  death  has  plaid  the  Horse-Leech  with, 
It  would  not  seeme  so  ghostly  in  these  eies  ; 
i5  It  beares  the  perfect  forme  it  us'd  to  doe. 
As  if  it  never  knew  immortality 
Nor  wasted  underneath  a  Hill  of  Clay. 
Sometimes  as  curious  limners  have  pourtraid 

Teares 

*)  In  Clifton.    2)  sleepe    3)  barricaded 


40  The  Vow-breaker, 

Teares  trilling  from  the  weeping  Niobc 
20  That  some  would  sweare  the  very  picture  wept, 
And  art  of  nature  got  the  mastery  ! 
So  did  I  guesse  affluxe  of  brinish  teares 
Came  from  this  Aiery,  and  unfadom'd  Ghost  ! 
And  could  the  Painters  of  this  age  draw  sighes 
25  I  could  demonstrate  sighes,  and  heavy  groanes 
As  if  a  sensible  hart  had  broke  in  twaine  ! 
Then  would  it  turne,  and  cry  false  woman, 
And  leave  me  to  descant  on  the  rest ! 

Vrs.  You  tell  me  of  an  object,  and  a  strange  one  ; 
3o  But  whose  is  the  resemblance  ? 

An.  I,  theirs  the  point 

For  that  I  must  be  pardon'd  ;  oh,  my  shame 
That  I  should  be  the  cause'res  of  a  deed, 
I  blush  to  nominate. 
Vrs.  Has  it  no  name  ? 
An.  Yes,  sweete  Vrsula, 
35  But  such  a  one  as  sadly  agrauates 

My  woes  in  repetition  ;  pray,  leave  me, 
I  am  addicted  to  contemplation, 
But  rest  within  my  call. 

Vrs.  Tis  but  your  fond   conceit ;  I've  heard  you   say 

4o  that  dream es  and  visions  were  fabulous ;  and  yet  one  time  I 

dream't  fowle  water  ran  through  the  floor e,  and  the  next 

day  the  house  was  on  fire ;  you  us'd  to  say  Hobgoblins, 

Fairies,  and  the  like  were  nothing  but  our  owne  affright- 

ments;  and  ye !),  oh  my  troth,  Cuz,  I  once  dream'd  of  a  young 

45  batchelour,  and  was  ridd  with  a  Night-Mare.  But  come, 

so  my  conscience  becleerelnever  care  how  fowle  my  drea- 

mes  are.  Exit. 

An.  Thou  now  hast  touch'd  the  point ; 
Tis  conscience  is  the  Larum  Bell,  indeede, 
5o  That  makes  us  sensible  of  our  good  or  bad  ! 
You  that  are  Lovers,  by  me  you  may  perceive 
What  is  the  burden  of  a  troubled  minde  ; 
Take  lieede  of  vowes,  and  protestations 
Which  wantonly  in  dalliancies  you  make  ; 

The 
i)yet 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  41 

The  eie  of  Heaven  is  on  you,  and  your  oaths 
55  An-  resist  red  ;  which  if  you  breake  —  blesse  me  ! 

Enter  Ghost. 

(7/70.  Thou  ean'st  not  fly  me; 

There  is  no  Cavern  in  the  Earth's  vast  entrailes 

But  1 -can't  through  as  pearcant  as  the  light, 
60  And  find  thee,  though  thou  wer't  entomb'd  in  stone  ; 

Thou  ean'st  not  catch  my  unsubstantial!  part, 

For  I  am  aire,  and  am  not  to  be  touch'd. 

From  flaming  fires  of  burning  Phlegeton, 

I  have  a  time  limited  to  walke, 
65  Vntill  the  morning  Cocke  shall  summon  me 

For  to  retire  to  misty  Erebus. 

My  pilgrimage  has  no  cessation, 

Vntill  1  bring  thee  with  me  to  the  place 

Whore  Rhadamant,  and  sable  Abacus  dwell, 
70  Alive  or  dead,  tis  I  that  must  enjoy  thee  ; 

To  tell  the  story  where  we  spirits  live 

Would  plucke  Vermilion  from  thy  Rosie  cheekes, 

And  make  them  pale,  as  Snowy  Apennines, 

And  from  thine  eies  draw  liquid  streames  of  teares 
75  More  full  of  issue  then  a  steepy  Fountaine, 

Alive  or  dead  I  must,  and  will  enjoy  thee, 

Thinke  on  thy  promise. 
An.  Distraction  like  an  Ague  seizes  me, 

I  know  not  whether  I  see,  here,  or  speake  ; 
80  My  intellectuall  parts  are  fro/en  up 

At  sight  of  thee,  thou  fiery  Effigies 

Of  my  wrong'd  Bateman. 

Enter  Boote,  Vrsula. 

Bo.  What,  weeping  againe  ? 
An.  Doe  you  not  see  it  ? 

85      Bo.  See !  what?  I  see  nothing  but  a  Bird  fly  o're  the  house. 
Urs.  Nor  I,  but  a  blinde   Buzzard  lookes  as   like  her 
husband  as  may  be. 

An. 


42  The  Vow-breaker, 

An.  Are  you  blinde,  or  will  you  make  your  selves  so  ? 
See  !  how  like  a  dreadfull  magistrate  it  standes, 
90  Still  pointing  at  me,  the  blacke  offender  ; 
And  like  a  cunning  poysoner,  will  not  kill  me, 
But  lets  me  linger  on  for  daies,  and  yeares. 
It  stares,  beckons,  points,  to  the  peece  of  Gold 
We  brake  betweene  us;  looke,  looke  there,  here,  there! 
95      Bo.  I  see  nothing,  perceive  nothing,  feele  nothing  ! 

Vrs.  Nor  I,  nor  quicke  thing,  neyther  cloath'd  nor  nak'd. 
Bo.  No,  no,  no !  you  drancke  Baulme,  Burrage  orBuglosse 
last  night  to  bed-ward,  that  makes  you  thinke  on  your 
dreames  this  morning. 
100      An.  But  I  will  too't,  hug,  and  embrace  it. 

Gho.  Thy  time  is  not  yet  come  ;  i'm  now  exild ; 
I  may  not  touch  thee  while  thou  art  with  chil'd.    Exit  Ghost. 
An.  you  doe  not  heare  it  neyther  ? 
Bo.  Whom  should  we  here  ? 
An.  Young  Batemans  visage 
io5  In  every  limbe  as  perfect  as  he  liv'd. 

Bo.  If  it  be  so,  'tis  done  by  sorcery  ; 
The  father  has  combined  with  some  witch, 
To  vex  thy  quiet  patience,  and  gaine  credit, 
That  he  would  haunt  thee  dead,  as  oft  he  said  ; 
no  Hell  can  put  life  into  a  senseles  body, 

And  raise  it  from  the  grave,  and  make  it  speake, 
Vse  all  the  faculties  alive  it  did, 
To  worke  the  Devill's  hellish  stratagems  ! 
If  I  but  finde  he  deales  in  exorcimes 
n5  1'le  make  him  burne  to  pacific  the  Witch  ; 
But  doe  not  beleive  it,  girle. 

An.  'Tis  vanish 'd  in  an  instant ! 
I  will  not  be  too  confident  in  my  eies, 
Will  you  grant  me  leave  to  visit  Bateman  ? 

Bo.  Visit  mine  enemy  ? 

1 20      An.  I  have  an  inward  sorrow  bids  me  doe  it ; 
I  did  him  wrong  to  gybe  his  miseries 
When  as  he  bore  the  dead  Corpes  in  his  armes  ; 

My 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  43 

My  Genius  tels  me,  I  shall  have  no  rest 

Till  I  have  made  contrition  ; 

Bo.  But  not  to  him. 
125  I'de  rather  live  subiected  to  a  Turke ; 

Goe  not,  my  girle,  i'le  feast  all  thy  senses, 

Thy  pallat  shall  with  viands  be  suppli'd, 

Thine  eares  with  heavenly  rapture  live  inspir'd, 

Thine  eies  with  sportive  action,  and  delight, 
i3o  Thou  shalt  have  Musique  to  consume  the  day, 

And  wast  the  night. 

An.  Musique  !  harsh  Ravens  croake  ! 

Scritch-Owles  shreile  ;  the  augurers  of  night, 

Are  first  companions  for  my  mellancholy  ; 

I  must  goe  see  him  ;  if  this  apparition 
i35  Appeare  not  in  his  sight,  my  conjecture 

Shall  judge  it  nothing  but  my  conscience 

That  finds  me  guilty  for  my  blacke  offence  ;  Exit. 

Bo.  Follow  her,  Neece, 

She  beares  a  Plurisie  of  Greives  about  her, 
140  And  much  I  feare  the  weakenes  of  her  braine 

Should  draw  her  to  some  ominous  exigent ! 

Would  she  had  ne're  infringed  her  vow  to  Bateman 

Or  I  had  ne're  knowne  this  wealthy  German  I 

If  he  prove  harsh  to  her,  i'le  make  him  know, 
i45  An  inforc'd  hate  to  vengeance  is  not  slow.  Exeunt  Omnes. 

(Scene  2.)  l)  Enter  Joshua,  his  Cat  in  a  string,  Miles,  Ball. 

Bal.  Nay  sweete  Jo,  be  persuaded. 

1  Jo.  Persuade  me,  I  scorne  to  be  persuaded!  Ball,  thou  art 
Heatlmish,  for  the  offence  is  foule  which  thou  would'st 
cloake,  I'me  not  to  be  persuaded,  I  will  doome  the  creature, 
5  and  burne  the  cloake  of  her  knavery;  yet  in  sincerity  I  will 
doe  nothing  without  good  colour. 

Mil.  Thy  coulours,  Jo.,  were  better  bestowed  on  course  wait 
ing  women  Madam  Makeroones  that  sell  paintings,  and 
stop  holes  with  plaister  of  Paris. 

J08. 


*)  Vor  Leith. 


44  The  Vow-breaker, 

10  Jos.  Miller,  Miller,  thou  art  not  mealy  mouth'd;  those  be 
the  Heathen  babies,  the  May-poles  of  time,  and  Pageants  of 
vanity,  but  I  will  convince  them  of  error,  and  scoure  their 
pollutions  away  with  the  waters  of  my  exhortations. 

Mi.  Why  should'st  thou  hang  thy  Cat  ? 

i5      Jos.  Thou  art  saucy,  Miller,  &  ought'st  not  to  Cathechiseme  so ; 
Bal.  And  it  were  but  for  Country  sake. 
Mi.  Sweete  Jo.,  consider  thy  Cat  is  thy  Countriman, 
Bal.  Hang  a  poore  Cat  for  killing  a  Mouse  ? 
Mi.  Knowing  the  proverb  too,  Cat  after  Kinde. 
20      Bal.  As  it  is  in   the  painted   cloath   too,    when   the   Cat's 
away  the  Mouse  will  play. 

Jos.  I,  but  as  it  is  in  the  painted  cloath,  beware  in  time, 
for    too    much    patience    to    Dog    or    Cat    will    breede    to 
much  offence.   She  did  kill  a  Mouse,   I,  but  when  ?  on  the 
•    25  forbidden  day,  and  therefore  she  must  die  on  Munday. 

ML    Then    shall    thy    zeale    be    proclaim'd,    for    hanging 
thy  Cat  on  Munday  for  killing  a  Mouse  on  Sunday. 

Jos.  Miller,   thou   art  drunke   in  thy   enormities,   and   art 
full  of  the  cake  of  iniquity.  Gray,  Arguile,  Clifton  l). 

3o      Bal.  Well,  to  thy  execution  we  commit  thee. 

Jos.  Blessed  be  the  instruments  of  silence  ;  poore  Pusse, 

take   it  not  ill   that  I   must   hang  thee,    by   that  meanes   I 

free  thee  from  bawling  Mastifs,  and  snarling  Currs  ;  I  have 

brought    thee  up   of  a  whelpe,   and  now  will   have  a  care 

35  of  thy  end. 

Gr.  A  notable  exhortation.  Ties  her. 

Clif.  List  to  the  sequell ; 

Jos.  When  thou  art  dead,   thou  shalt  not   curse   me  ;   for 
my  proceedings  shall  be  legall  ;  thou  art  at  the  barre  of  my 
4o  mercy,  and  thu  s  I  ascend  to  j  udgment,  as  it  is  in  the  painted  cloath . 
Gr.  Harken  the  inditement. 

Jos.  Tybert  the  Cat ;  as  it  is  in  the  painted  cloath  of  the 

Bull,  and  Cocke,  sometimes  house-keeper,  drudger  or  scourer  to 

Marmaduke  Joshua,  Limner  alias  painter-stainer,  &  now  the 

45  corrector  or  extirper  of  vermine,  as  Rats,  Mice,  and  other 

waspish  animalls,  thou  art  here  indited  by  thy  deare  Master 

•  Marmaduke 

— 

4)  Enter  Gray,  Ar&iile,  Clifton. 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  45 

Msurmaduke  Joshua,  for  breaking  of  the  high-day  ;  what  sayst 
thou  for  thy  selfe  ?  guilty  or  uot  guilty  ?  hah. 

Gr.  Would  she  could  mew,  non  guilty. 

5o  Jos.  Know'st  thou  not,  thou  silly  Cat,  that  thy  brethren  will 
not  kill  the  Calfe  nor  rost  the  Mutton  nor  boyle  their  flesh  Potfs 
on  the  high-day  ?  was  it  not  deeree'd  by  our  learned  brother  Abolt 
Cabbidge,  Cobler  of  Amsterdam,  that  they  should  beheld  uneleane, 
and  not  worthy  of  the  meanes  that  did  it ;  and  did  not  expect 
55  Cratchet  Coole  *)  his  proud  flesh  in  the  Leeiie*  for  making  insurrec 
tion  on  the  high- day  ? 

Clif.  A  point  well  watred. 

Jos.  Did  not  Nadab  the  Sowe-gelder  make  a  gaunt  of  his  gelt 
for  being  cumbersome  on  the  high-day?*  Ha,  thy  silence  argues 
60  guilt ;  hast  thou  not  scene  the  whole  conventicle  of  brothers, 
and  sisters  walke  to  St.  Anns,  and  not  so  much  as  a  fructi 
fying  Kisse  on  the  high  — 

Gr.  It  seemes  the  elect  Kisse  weekely. 

Jos.    And   must  thou  kill   a   Mouse  ?   oh,    thou  wicked   Cat ; 

65  could'st    not    turne    up    the    white    of    the    eie    for  the   poore 

creature  ?    thou    gluttonous     Cat,     thou    art    now    arraigned, 

I    adjudge    thee    to    be    hanged    this    munday,    for    killing    a 

Mouse  yesterday  beeing  the  high-day.  Offers  to  hang  her. 

Gr.  Stay,  stay,  a  pardon,  a  pardon  ! 
70      Jos.  I  am  hot  in  my  zeale,  and  fiery  in  expedition, 

Clif.  Wee'le  talke  with  you  hereafter. 

Jos.  I  was  executing  a  point  of  justice,  equity,  and  conscience. 

Gr.  A  pleasant  Tragecomedy,  the  Cat  being  scap't. 
What  Trumpets  this  ? 

(Enter  3.)  Enter  Crosse. 

Cros.  Monlucke,  Bishop  of  Valens, 
Xewly  anchor'd  in  the  haven  of  Inskeith, 
Desires  save  convoy  by  your  honours  foivr^. 
From  the  red  Brayes  to  Edenborough  Castle  ; 
5  The  rest  on  rnlervexv  lie  will  impart. 

2)  Such  entertainment,  as  the  warre  affourds, 

The 


Cratche  to  eoole  ?    2)  Das  sagt  wohl  Grey. 


46  The  Vow-breaker, 

The  Drum,  the  Fiffe,  the  thundering  Cannon, 
The  shrill  Trumpets,  andall  ])  war  like  Cymballs, 
Such  Musique  as  in  warrs  Souldiers  measure 
10  Bestow  on  him  ;  come  he  in  warr  or  peace 
He  shalbe  welcome ! 
Jo.  Oh  that  prophane  surplesse,  ho,  ho,  ho. 

Enter  Monlucke  ;  attendant  saluts. 

Mon.  Mary,  King  Dolphins  wife,  Dowager  of  France*, 
And  heire  apparant  to  the  Scottish  Crowne, 
i5  Hearing  of  devastations  in  her  Lands, 

And  the  oppressions  that  her  neighbour  Princesse 
With  rough  hostility  grindes  her  people, 
Me,  her  Legat,  she  sends  to  Edenburgh, 
To  parley  with  her  mother,  the  Queene  Regent, 
20  And  Article  A  peace  twixt  her  deare  sister, 

The  Queene  of  England*,  and  the  Lords  of  Scotland, 
If  our  conditions  may  be  made  with  honour  ; 
This  is  my  message. 

Gr.  Eyther  for  peace  or  warre. 
The  Queene  my  Mistris  now  is  arm'd  for  both  ; 
25  For  like  a  vertuous  Princesse,  and  a  Mother 
O're  us  her  loving  subjects,  and  her  sons, 
She,  knowing  a  Kings  security  rests 
In  the  true  love,  and  welfare  of  her  people, 
Rais'd  this  hostility  for  to  guard  her  selfe, 
3o  Not  to  offend,  but  to  defend  her  owiie  ; 
Her  Secretary  Sicill  now  attends 
On  the  like  Embasy  for  Edenburgh, 
Whither  your  selfe  shall  safely  be  convoy'de. 
Mon.  You  are  an  honourable  foe. 
Gr.  Will  the  Queene 
35  Lay  by  her  nicety,  rough  fil'd  phrase, 

And  not  articulate  too  much  with  England  ? 
For  by  the  power  of  warr  e're  two  suns  rise 
Weele  mount  the  walls  of  Leith,  and  sacrifize 

Her 

d)  and  all 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  47 

Her  guilded  Towres,  and  her  French  insulters 
4o  In  flames  of  fire  ;  we  vow  to  hazard  lives, 

And  honours  in  the  enterprise.  Exeunt  Omnes. 

(Scene  4.) l)  Enter  Anne,  with  a  Torch,  Vrsula  ;Bateman,  wailing 

his  Picture. 

An.  Sof  tly,  softly ;  fie  on  your  creaking  shooes,  what  noise 
they  make;  shut  the  Dores  close,  it  does  not  here  us  a  jot; 
looke  well  to  the  Darneicke  Hangings,  that  it  play  not 
the  Court  Page  with  us. 

5  Vrs.  Heer's  not  so  much  as  a  shaddow  to  affright  us  ; 
for  mine  owne  part  neyther  Incubus  nor  Siicubus  can  do't; 
I  feare  not  what  a  quicke  thing  can  doe,  and  I  thinke 
y'ore  2)  dead  things  are  too  quiet  to  say  any  harme. 

An.  Yet  all  is  cleare,  no  frightfull  vision 
10  Nor  Ghostly  apparition  hauntes  me  yet ; 

Yonders  thy  3)  father  ;  good  powres,  assist  me, 
That  I  may  gaine  his  patience  to  heare  me, 
And  I  am  hartily  satisfied. 

O.  Ba.  Pigmalion  doated  011  the  peece  he  made, 
1 5  So  doe  not  I  upon  thy  pourtraiture. 

I  doe  but  hang  thy  faire  resemblance  here 
To  tell  me  of  my  immortality. 
How  sensible  young  Cedars  are  o'th  winde, 
When  as  the  aged  Oake  affronts  all  stormes, 
20  'Tis  death,  and  natures  fault,  for  the  Diamond 
Of  blooming  youth  despise  decaying  age, 
He  might  have  tane  thee  4)  el'ce,  and  left  thee,  boy. 

An. Whom  talkes  he  too?  my  life,  Coz,  he  has  a  ghost  too! 
Yet  I  see  nothing. 

20       Ba.  How  now,  Hyena  ;  why  camst  thou  hyther  ? 
Com'st  thou  againe  to  gybe  my  miseries  ? 
Has  thy  maligneing  harted  father  sent  thee 
To  scoffe  my  sorowes  ?  keepe  of,  I  charge  thee  ! 
Thou  did'st  bewitch  my  poore  boy  with  a  Kisse  ; 
3o  Thy  breath  is  sure  infectious,  and  I  feare 

Their's 

')  Scene  :  Cliftoii,  iu  Old  liutemaus  Hause.    2)  your    3)  the    4)  mee 


48  The  Vow-breaker, 

Their's  something  in  thee  smells  of  sorcery. 
Stand  at  distance  ! 

An.  Good  sir,  use  patience, 
That  in  extremity  is  soveraigne  Balme  ; 
Teares,  be  my  witnes,  I  come  to  comfort  you  ; 
35  Yet  I  see  nothing. 

7?a.  Teares  ?  'tis  impossible  ! 
Marble  will  drop,  and  melt  against  the  raine, 
And  from  ths  cragy  Rocks,  Foimtainous  Flouds 
Oft  get  iiiforced  issues  ;  but  to  gaine 
Relenting  teares  from  thy  obdurate  harte 
4o  'Tis  impossible  !)  as  to  force  Fire  from  snow, 
Water  from  flint,  say  the  Sun  shall  not  shine, 
As  well  upon  the  begger  as  the  King, 
That  is  alike  indifferent  to  all. 

Vrs.  Good  sir,  remember, 
45  Forgiveness  is  an  Atribute  to  Heaven. 
She  has  a  harty  sorrow  for  her  siniies, 
And  comes  to  make  attoiiement,  if  you  please. 
An.  Still  I  nothing  any  where.  2) 
Ba.  Pray,  listen  ! 

Would  not  that  Physitian  be  well  haiig'd 
5o  That  for  his  practise  sake  Kille  his  patient, 
And  after  pleades  a  sorrow  to  his  freinds  ? 
She  weepes,  an  evidence  of  a  harty  sorrow, 
My  boy  would  not  have  seene  her  weepe  thus  long, 
But  hee'd  have  minister'd  comfort !  my  teares 
55  Playes  the  theife  with  mine  eies  too. 

An.  Yet  all  is  safe  ;  sure  it  was  but  my  dreames  ; 
Sir,  you  had  a  sou ;  blesse  me,  'tis  here  now,     Enter  Ghost. 
In  the  same  figure  that  it  us'd  to  be. 
Peace  is  more  deare,  and  pretious  unto  me 
60  Then  a  nights  rest  to  a  men  turmoil'd  in  Law. 
My  eies  set  heere  un-moud,  i'le  gaze  with  thee, 
Vntill  the  windowes  of  my  head  drop  out. 
But  then  my  minde  wilbe  afflicted  too, 
For  what  is  unseene  there,  is  visible  here. 

Lead 

*)  Tis  as  impossible    »)  Still  I  see  nothing  any  where. 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  49 

Lead  !)  me,  i'le  follow,  though  to  a  desart, 
Or  any  uncouth  place  ;  worke  the  vengeance 
And  doe  not  torture  me  alive  ;  neyther  — 
Gho.  All  things  keepe  their  time  ! 
An.  Let  all  times  daughters,  which  are  daies,  convert 
70  To  one  day,  and  bring  me  to  my  period  ! 

Ba.  Whom  converses  she  withall  ? 

0 

Vrs.  To  her  unseene  fancies. 
An.  See,  with  eies  of  wonder  !  see  ! 
Ba.  What  should  I  see  ? 
An.  Aske  you  what  ?  why,  'tis  your  son, 
Just  as  he  di'd  looke,  looke,  there,  here,  there. 
76      Ba.  Is  this  thy  sorow,  com'st  tliou  to  mocke  me? 

An.  Just  heavens,  not  I !  see,  how  it  smiles  on  you, 
On  me  it  hurles  a  dejected  looke.  Takes  the  Picture. 

Ba.  Because  I  hang  his  Picture  ne're  my  bed, 
Com'st  thou  to  laugh  me  !  out,  out !  fond-ling,  noe  ! 
80  See,  thus  I  gaze  on  it ;  stroke  his  snowy  hands, 
And  prune  the  curled  tresses  of  his  locks, 
Which  the  Arts-man  iieately  has  dishevcll'd. 

Vrs.  Good  sir ;  have  patience,  her's  is  true  sorow, 
And  not  derision. 

Stands  betweene  the  Picture,  &  Ghost. 
An.  Another  Ganimede  ! 

85  This  eye,  and  yon'd  are  one  !  this  front,  that  lip  ; 
This  cheeke,  a  litle  ruddier  showes  then  that, 
The  very  ashie  palenes  of  his  face, 
The  mossie  downe  still  growing  on  his  chin, 
And  so  his  Alablaster  2)  finger  pointing- 
go  To  the  bracelet,  whereon  the  peece  of  gold 
We  broke  betweene  us  hangs. 
Ba.  Certes  slice's  madd. 
An.  Pray,  come  hither  ! 

You  shade  this  Picture  from  the  pearsant  Sun, 
And  curtaine  it,  to  keepe  it  from  the  dust ; 
95  Why  are  you  not  as  chary  then  of  that  ? 

It  lookes  as  it  were  could  ;  alas,  poore  Picture  ; 

Ba. 

')  Leade  BC    -')  Alabaster 


50  The  Vow-breaker, 

Ba.  Hee'rs  but  one  Picture  ! 
An.  I  say,  theirs  two, 

You  will  not  see  this  for  to  save  a  Curtaine  ; 
His  knotty  curies,  like  to  Apollo's  tramells 
100  Xeatly  are  display'd  ;  I'le  sweare  the  Painter 
That  made  this  peece,  had  the  other  by  it. 
Why  doe  you  not  speake  too  it  ?  'tis  your  son  ; 
May  be,  he's  tongue-tide,  and  cannot  crave  blessing  ; 

Ba.  I  could  tell  thee,  I  nail'd  him  to  the  Earth, 
io5  Riveted  a  stake  quite  through  his  bosome, 
And  bid  thee  goe  seeke  him,  but  I  love  not 
To  mocke  miseries  ;  i'le  take  this  Picture  hence, 
It  troubles  your  sight. 

An.  And  you'd  remove  that,  I'de  thanke  you  ; 
no      Ba.  Tis  thy  forc'd  fancies,  and  thy  guilt  together 
persuades  thee  so  ;  pray  thee,  be  a  woman  ; 
Whom  tliou  cam'st  to  comfort,  comforts  thee 
Though  I  intended  to  have  hurl'd  at  thee 
Stings  of  dishonour,  ignominies,  reproaches, 
n5  And  all  the  stocke  of  calumnies,  and  scorne, 
Which  tliou  art  guilty  off  ;  now  my  pity 
Converts  them  into  sorrow  for  thy  sorrowes  ; 
Vrs.  A  blessing  crowne  you  for  it. 
An.  And  can  their  be  a  hope  you  will  forgive  me  ? 

Exit  Ghost. 
120      Ba.  Heartily  I  doe  — 

An.  See,  its  gone  now, 
As  if  it  vex'd  to  see  your  clemency. 

Ba.  Distemper  not  your  selfe  at  fancies  ; 
Your  time  hastens  to  maturity, 
Y'are  very  big,  and  may  endanger  your  fruite, 
125  If  you  give  way  to  passions. 

An.  T'will  be  abortiue, 
As  are  my  actions  ;  I  shall  not  live 
To  take  felicity  in  it !  see,  i'ts  here  againe ! 

Enter 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  51 

Enter  Ghost,  and  Exit. 

Gho.  All  things  keepe  their  time. 
Ba.  Come,  goe  with  me. 
I'le  give  thee  comfortable  cordialls 
i3o  That  shall  remove  these  objects  from  thine  eies, 
Expelling  all  disastrous  accidents, 
And  plaine  thy  thoughts  as  smooth  as  innocence, 
Which  when  thou  hear'st,  then  in  rapture  boast, 
Thou  dread'st  no  visions,  fury,  feind  nor  Ghost.     Exeunt  Omnes. 
i35      An.  Be  you  my  counsellour,  and  father  too, 
.  Vrs.  Whom  I  admire  for  noble  honesty. 

Actus  Quartus,  Scena  prima 1}. 


Enter  Clifton,  Grey,  Ar guile,  Joshua,  Miles, 
Ball,  Souldiers. 

Gr.  What  day  is  this  ?  . 
Clif.  Tues-day,  the  seaventh  of  May. 
Gr.  This  day  shall  in  our  English  Calender  stand 
Eyther  to  our  dishonour,  or  great  fames, 
When  Chronicles  in  after  ages  tell 
5  The  seventh  of  May  we  scal'd  the  walls  of  Leith, 
We  have  begun,  dreadlesse  of  death,  and  dangers, 
And  like  to  loyall  subjects  held  the  rights 
Of  our  deere  Mistris  Queene  Elizabeth. 
When  Captaine  Randall  gives  the  Alarum, 
10  Assault,  assault !  each  man  salute  his  freind, 
Take  solemne  farewell  till  this  seige  have  end. 
Omnes.  Assault,  assault ! 

Gr.  Holdes  every  man  his  charge  as  we  ordred  ? 
Clif.  I  guess  so,  my  Lord  ; 
Howard  with  his  Launce-tieres  quarters 
i5  T'wixt  Mount  Pelham,  and  the  Sea  by  West. 

Stout 


Vor  Leith. 


52  The  Vow-breaker, 

Stout  Hary  Percy*  with  his  barbed  steedes 
Neighing  for  action  guardes  the  Tents  by  East ; 
Arguile,  with  shot  marches  for  the  Hill  Brey  ; 
Sir  Francis  Leeke  keepes  the  water-ports  ; 
20  I  the  Greene  Bul-warke  opposite  to  Doysells 
With  tough  hardy  Nottingham  shire  boyes, 
Wee'le  fall  before  we  fly,  by  my  Hollidam  I 

Gr.  I'le  man  this  bul-warke  'gainst  proud  Mortigue. 
Harke,  the  Allarum,  each  man  unto  his  place  !      Exeunt  O nines. 

After  squirmishes,  Enter  Grey,  meeting-  Clifton, 
with  Armour. 

25      Gr.  How  goes  the  day,  sir  Jaruis  ? 
Clif.  Ti's  bloudy. 

The  thunderer  on  both  sides  shootes  his  boults. 

Valour  is  at  the  touch-stone  of  true  tryall  ; 

The  French  like  to  so  many  gods  of  warre 

Bravely  brandish  darting  fire  from  steele  ; 
3o  The  valiant  Scot  Arguile  commandes  the  Hill, 

The  Towne-playes  fercely ;  their  came  a  shot 

Of  full  two  hundreth  weight  into  my  Tent. 

Doysells  has  thrice  assaulted  me,  I  fac'd  him, 

And  from  his  sides,  like  Libian  Hercules, 
35  I  tore  the  rough  Nemean  Lion's  Skin, 

His  Armour  of  good  proof e  which  here  I  beare, 

And  will  not  part  from,  but  with  losse  of  life. 
Gr.  See  !  Arguile  apeares.1) 
Arg.  Man  the  water-ports 

With  all  the  Engines  of  defensive  warre  ! 
4o  Well  fought  Vaughan*  he  mans  the  trenches  bravely  ; 

Young  Arthur  Grey  assaults  the  stony  mures, 

Vp  goes  the  scaling  Ladders,  now  they  mount, 

Now  Sommerset,  now  Read,  now  Valiant  Brey, 

Towring  like  eager  Haukes  who  shall  get  high'st ! 
45  Like  angery  Lions,  or  incenced  Tygers, 

The  Frenchmen  labour,  greedy  for  the  prey  ; 

Now 


i)  Enter  Arguile. 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  53 

Now  the  hardy  Scots,  as  swift  as  Roes, 

Clinibe  the  walls,  and  tosse  the  Frenchmen  downe  ; 

Now  from  the  mount  their  thundring  Cannons  roare, 

5o  Whose  direfull  clangors  shake  their  huge  structures, 
And,  like  an  earth-quake,  tumble  to  the  Earth, 
Their  steeples,  Ordinance,  Gunners,  all  at  once  ; 
Now  Inskeith,  Sutton,  Newport,  Conway,  Fitton, 
As  dreadles  enter  dangers,  as  their  Tents  ; 

55  Accursed  chance  !  the  Ladders  are  too  short, 
Which  gives  a  treble  vantage  to  the  French. 
Now  the  foe  triumphes,  now  our  white  coates  fall, 
Now  groanes  the  mother,  now  the  virgin  sighs  ; 
Death  wilbe  master,  neyther  party  winns  ; 

60  Now  flies  the  English  ;  now  the  French  follow, 
And  now  their  horse-men  fling  about  the  sands  ; 
Howard  counterbuft's  their  canvasadoes  ; 
Like  chaffed  Bulls,  or  foaming  Bores  they  strive 
For  mastery  ;  the  Frenchmen  flie  the  Towne, 

65  And  seeke  for  shelter.  Now  men  your  Trenches  ! 
Count  Mortigue  and  Doysells  from  the  Towne 
Make  expedition  !  now  sings  the  god  of  warre 
His  direfull  Antheames  ;  now  fight,  or  never  ! 
We  now  are  free-men  or  elce  bond-men  ever. 

Alarum.  Enter  Doysells,  Mortigue,  Souldiers. 

70      Doy.  Thou  bears'st  my  armour,  Clifton. 

Clif.  My  Hollidam, 

Thanke  me,  Doysells,  I  did  not  take  thy  head. 
Mor.  I  came  to  seeke  thee,  Grey. 
Gr.  The  Towne,  I  see,  was  too  hot  to  hold  thee, 
Elce  thou'st  have  nesl'd  in  thy  pent-house  still. 
75      Clif.  Wee'le  not  articulate.     Alarums ;Monluck,  Crosse, 
A/em.  Tli'ef f use  of  bloud  is  great,       betweene  the  Armies. 
Which  had  bene  better  never  spent,  then  ill ; 
You  of  our  party,  by  our  commission, 
We  doe  command  your  tariance  ;  your  Lords 

Of 


54  The  Vow-breaker, 

Of  England  and  of  Scotland  we  entreat 
80  A  litle  patience  till  your  Heralds  speake. 

Cros.  William  Cecill,  the  Queenes  Secretary, 
Wotton,  Deane  of  Canterbury,  and  Yorke, 
With  Sir  Ralph  Sadler  joynt  commissioners, 
Commands  thee,  John  Lord  Grey  of  Wilton, 
85  Now  Generall  of  her  Majesties  forces, 
To  make  immidiate  repaire  of  Edenburgh, 
And  present  lay  by  all  hostility, 
From  this  houre  untill  seven  a  Clocke  at  night. 

M on.  The  like  on  your  allegiance  to  Mary,  Dowager  of  France* 
90  and  Queene  of  Scots,  we  doe  commend  l). 

Mor.  We  obey,  and  instantly  will  give  order. 
Ger.  2)  The  like  doe  you,  sir  Jarvis, 

Clif.  Now  we  have  beaten  them  out  of  the  Towne,  they  come 
To  composition. 

95      Ger.2)  Give  order  through  our  Trenches,  Tents,  Bul-warks, 
That  not  a  peece  of  great  nor  smaller  shot 
Prove  preiudiciall  to  the  French,  untill  from  us 
You  have  commission  ;  my  Lord  of  Valens, 
I'le  waite  on  you  to  the  commissioners  ; 
100  If  we  have  peace,  'tis  welcome,  and  if  warre, 
We  are  for  eyther  object,  both  we  darre. 

Exeunt  Mon.,  Grey. 
Clif.  My  Hollidam, 

What  a  new  monster  England  has  begot, 
We  cannot  fight  because  we  want  commission  ! 
lo5  Mortigue,  Doysells,  by  my  just  Hollidam, 
It  greives  me  that  we  must  not  fight  it  out. 
Come,  let's  shake  hands,  'till  seven  at  night  all  freinds 
After  such  greetings,  as  on  warr  depends. 
Doy.  We  dread  not  chances.  Exeunt  Omnes. 

(Scene  2.) 3)  A  bed  covered  with  white.  Enter  Pratle,  Magpy,  Long-tongue, 
Barren  with  a  Child,  Anne  in  bed. 

Pra.  Lord,  Lord,  what  pretty  impes ;  you  are  in  your  majorities ! 

Mag. 

*)  command    *)  Gr.    3)  Scene  :  Clifton,  bei  Old  Boote  zu  Hause, 


or  the  fayre  Maid  of  Clifton.  55 

Mag.  Is  it  a  man-child,  Mother  Pratle  ? 

Pra.  No,  in-sooth  gossip  Mag-py,  it  is  one  of  us;  heavens  blesse 
thee,  babie,  and  a  well  appointed  jinpe  ')  it  is. 
5      Lon.  See,  how  it  smiles. 

Barr.  That's  a  signe  of  anger,  t'will  be  a  shrow,  I  lay  my  life. 
Pra.  No,   no,    Mistris  Barren,   an   Infant 2)    smileing,   and   a 
Lambes  bleateing  is  a  signe  of  fertility,  it  is  so  in  Artimedorus  ; 
you  frown'd  when  you  were  borne,  and  thats  the  reason  you 
10  are  so  sterill ;  Artimedorus  saith  so  in  his  fourth  bookc. 
Mag.  What  pretty  dimples  it  has  ! 
Long.  Fathers  none  nyes. 
Pra.  None  nose. 
Barr.  Smooth  for-head  ! 
1 5      Mag.  Cherry  lip  ! 

Pra.  Had  it  bene  man-child,  their  had  bene  three  evident 
signes  of  an  whoremaster ;  a  Roman  Nose,  Cherry  Lip,  and  a 
bald  Pate,  for  so  Artimedorus  in  his  Problems. 

Mag.  Well,  well,  whosoever  got  it,   'tis  as  like  none  father 
20  as  an  Apple  to  a  Nut,  insooth,  Gossip  Pratle,  it  is. 

Long.  It  smiles  still  !  sure  it  was  begot  in  a  merry  houre. 
Barr.    Then   I   was   got   in   a  merry    vainc ;    for    prais'd    be 
to  memory  my  Mother  said  I  hung  the  lip  at  my  nativity. 

Mag.  Lord,  Mother  Pratle,  doe  the  Modernes  report  soe  ? 
25      Pra.   I   surely,    Gossip   Mag-py,   and   it  is   a  great   signe   of 
frugality  if  the   Starrs,   and  Planets   be   concordant,  for   saith 
Artimedorus,  if  it  be  borne  under  Venus,  it  will  be  faire  as  you 
are,  if  under  Sol,  Rich  as  you  are,  and  if  under  Mercuric  - 

Mag.  Good  Mother  Pratle,  what  is  that  god  Mercury  ?  is  it 
3o  he   that    makes    the    white    Mercury    waters,     Ladies    secure 
their  faces  withall  ? 

Pra.  I  surely,  Gossip,  and  stop  their  wrinckles  with  too  ;  and 
saith    Artimedorus,   in    his    third    booke   of    his   Moderues,    if 
borne  under  Castor,  and  Pollux,  store  of  children. 
35      Mag.  Caster,  and  Bollux  ? 

Pra.  You  speake  broad,  Gossip,  'tis  Pollux. 

Mag. 


impc  BC    2)  Infants 


56  The  Vow-breaker*, 

Mag.  Why,  Bollux  be  it  then  ;  surely,  Barren  was  not 
borne  under  Bollux,  for  she  has  bene  married  this  seven 
yeares,  and  never  had  childe, 

4o  Bar.  By  your  favour,  Gossip  Mag-py,  you  were  borne  under 
Caster,  and  Bollux  then,  for  you  had  two  children  before  you 
were  married. 

Enter  Vrsula. 

Pra.  Iiisooth,  Gossip,  she  has  given  you  a  veny ;  Good  lacke, 

mistris    Vrsula,   where   have   you   negotiated   Your   selfe  ?   you 

45  should  have   bene   present,    and    have    Negotiated    your    selfe 

about    the    Maxims,    and    principles   Of  '  child-bearing  ;   what  ? 

you  had  a  Mother  ? 

Vrs.  And  a  Father  too,  Mother  mid-night. 

Pra.  No  matter  for  the  father  ;  we  talke  of  the  surer 
5o  side,  you  may  be  sure  to  know  your  mother,  when  your 
mother  hardly  knowes  your  father  ;  'tis  a  very  facetious 
point,  as  Artimedorus  in  his  booke  of  dreames  sets  it  downe. 

Enter  Boote. 

Vrs.  Here  comes  my  Vncle. 

Pra.    Off   with   your  hat,    sir,   you    come   not   here    without 
55  reverence  ;   see,  if  the  little  infidell  smile  not  on  him  ;   busse, 
busse  it. 

Bo.  Heavens  blesse  the  babe  !  \vhat  wares  beare  my 
Little  infidell  ? 

Pra.    Blesse    the    baby,    it    has    sufficient    if    it    live  to   be 
60  of  the  sages. 

Bo.  I  meane,  carries  it  an  English  Pen,  an  Inke-horne 
Or  a  dutch  tankerd  ? 

Pra.  Blesse  the  baby  —  it  has  —  ey,  marry,  has  it ! 
Bo.  Is  it  a  boy,  has  it  a  purse,  and  two  pence  in't  ? 
65      Pra.   Blesse   the   baby,   it  has   a  purse,    and  no   money  in't 
yet,  but  it  may  have,  and  it  please  the  destinies. 

Bo.   A  purse,    and    no    money ;    by    St.   Antony,   I   thought 
the  groome  went  drunke  to  bed,   he   stole    too't  so   early  — 
Pra.  Looke,  how  it  smiles. 

Bo. 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  57 

Bo.  Admit  me  to  the  mother  ; 
Vrs.  Slice's  now  awake,  sir. 
Bo.  I  give  my  thanks  to  heaven,  daughter  ./Van, 
"Whose  providence  hath  made  thee  a  mother  ; 
Rejoyce  thou  in  the  first  fruites  of  thy  wombe  ; 
75  If  any  sad  distempers  trouble  thy  minde 
Sing  lullabies  unto  this  pretty  babe, 
And  they  will  vanish  ;  this  must  be  now  thy  comfort ; 

An.  Just  heaven  ;  I  might  have  taken  comfort 
In  this  pretty  babe  ;  now  it  is  too  late  ; 
80  Leave  me  your  blessing,  Sir,  and  depart  hence, 

Bo.  You  have  some  private  occasions,  i'me  not  to  question  : 
Neece,  bring  the  groaning  cheece  1),  and  all  requisites  ;  I  must 
supply  the  fathers  place,  and  bid  god-fathers.  Exit. 

An.  Good  women,  whose  helpes  I  had  but  now, 
85  'Tis  almost  now  of  that  necessity 
It  was  before  :  I  pray,  be  vigilant, 
For  if  you  slumber,  or  shut  your  eie-lids, 
You  never  shall  behold  my  living  corps. 

Pra.  Blesse  us,  daughter,  say  not  so  !  I  hope  you  will  not 
90  part  in  a  trance,  nor  steale  away  in  a  qualme ;  come,  come, 
what  should  be  your  reason  ? 
An.  Nothing  but  a  dreame. 

Pra.   An't   be   a  dreame,   let    me    come    too   it ;   was  it  a 

sorrowfull    dreame  ?    Artimedorus     saith,     there    be    divers 

g5  kinde  of  meates  engender  dreames  ;  as  Beanes,  long  Peason, 

Lentills,  Cole-worts,  Garlicke,  Onions,  and  the  like ;  Leekes,  Ches- 

Nuts,  and  other  opening  Rootes,  as  Rad-dish,  Garrets,  Skirrets, 

Parsenips ;  now  there  is  some  flesh  is  provocative  too  ;  as  the 

Hart,   the   Bore,   the    ould    Hare,    and    Beefe ;  and  then   of 

100  fowles,  as  the  Crane,  Ducke,  Drake,  Goose,  and  Bustard;  if  you 

tasted  any  of  these  they  will  engender  dreames. 

An.  Pray  marke  me,  and  let  my  words  be  written 
"Within  your  minds,  as  in  a  manuscript, 
That  when  it  proves  so,  you  may  say  I  told  it. 
io5       Lon.  Peace,  and  heare  her  dreame. 

An. 


groaning-chair 


58  The  Vow-breaker, 

An.  Me  thought  I  walk'd  a  long  the  verdant  banks 
Of  fertil  Trent,  at  an  un-usuall  time, 
The  winter-quarter  ;  when  Herbes,  and  Flowers, 
Natures  choisest  braveries,  are  dead. 

no  When  every  sape-lesse  J)  Tree  fades  2)  at  the  roote  ; 
Yet  then,  though  contrary  to  nature, 
Vpon  those  banks  where  foaming  surges  beate 
I  gatherd  Flowers,  Roses  red,  and  Damaske, 
Love  Pauncies,  Pincks,  and  gentle  Daffodils, 

n 5  That  seldome  budds  before  the  Spring  time  comes, 
Daysies  3),  Cowslopps  4),  Harebells,  Marigoulds, 
But  not  one  bending  Violet  to  be  seene. 
My  apron  full  I  thought  to  passe  away, 
And  make  a  Garland  of  these  fragrancies  ; 

120  Just  as  I  turn'd,  I  spide  a  lovely  person, 
Whose  countenance  was  full  of  splendancy 
With  such  embellishings,  as  I  may  imagine 
Better  than  name  them  ;  it  bad  me  follow  it, 
Then  me  thought,  it  went  upon  the  water, 

125  As  firmely  as  on  land  ;  I  covetous 

To  parley  with  so  sweet  a  frontis-peece 
Leap'd  into  th'water,  and  so  drownd  5)  my  selfe. 
Pray,  watch  me  well  this  night ;  for  if  you  sleepe, 
I  shall  goe  gather  Flowers,  and  then  you'l  6)  weepe. 

180       Vrs.  'Twas  a  strange  dreame  ! 

Pra.  But  a  very  true  one;  looke  you,  Artimedorus  in  his 
third  booke  of  his  Moderns  saith,  to  dreame  of  Flowers  is 
very  good  to  a  woman  in  child-bed;  it  argues  she  shall  soone 
enjoy  her  husbaud;  to  walke  on  the  Seas  specifies  to  a  man, 

i35  delight,  but  to  a  woman  dissolute  life,  for  the  Sea  is  like 
aharlot,  aglicery  face,  andabroken  heart.  Come,  come,  doe 
you  sleepe?  wee'le  watch ;  by  this  good  drinke ;  Gossip  Mag- 
py,  I  was  almost  dry. 

An.  Lay  the  babe  by  me  that  I  may  Kisse  it ; 

140  Pra.  So,  so,  she  sleepes,  come  sit  round,  and  lets  have  a 
Carrouse  to  the  litle  infidell. 

Vrs.  I  marry  sir,  this  is  a  silent  houre,  their  teeth  will 

not 

*)  saplesse  BC  2)  fad's  BC  3)  Daisies  BC  *)  cowlips  5)  dround  BC  6)  youle  BC 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  59 

not  let  their  tongues   wag.    Well   drunck,  Mother  mid-night, 
now  will  she  sweare  by  this  Wine,  till  she  soake l)  the  Pot,  were 
i45  it  a  fathome  deepe. 

Pra.  By  this  good  liquor,  it  is  so. 

Vrs.  Here's  sweet  swearing,  and  deepe  vowes  ;  she  goes  to'th 
bottome  at  every  oath. 

Mag.  And  I'faith,  Gossip  Long-tongue,  when  peepes  *)  the  Onion 
i5o  out  o'th  parsley-bed,  when  shalls  come  to  your  feast  ? 

Lon.  Truely,  Gossip  Mag-py,  when  Caster,  and  Bollux  raignes. 

Vrs.  Sweete  Mother  Pratle,  what  be  those  Castor,  and  Bollux  ? 

Pra.    Twinns,    daughter,    that    rule    most,    the    signe   being 

in  Virgo ;  looke  you,  Gossip  Barren,  could  you  once  dreame  of 

i55  sore  eies  you  should  be  sure  of  children. 

Barr.  Good  sooth,  Mother  Pratle,  the  first  time  I  dream'd, 
I  was  with  child,  I  got  a  husband  presently. 

Pra.    By    this    dyet-bread,    Artimedorus    saith    so  ;    marke, 
Mistris   Vrsula,   to   dreame  to   have   Lyce,   eyther  in   head  or 
160  body,    in     some     quantity     signifies    a    proper    man    well    ap 
pointed  ;   and,    by   this   drinke,    I   dream'd   my    husband    when 
he     came    first    a    woing,     came    i'th    liknes     of    a    Kentish 
twindle    Pippen  ;    that    is    just,    as    if    two    stones    grew    to 
gether  ;  no  sooner  was  I  married,  but  I  had  two  sonnes  pre- 
165  sently,  just  as  Artimedorus  saith,  by  this  diet-bread. 

Vrs.  They  have  sworne  all  the  Wine,  and  Banquet  away. 
Barr.   I  know   not  what  your  twindles  are,    but  i'me    sure 
1  tender  Castor,  and  Bollux  as  dearely  as  any  of  you  ;  I  cannot 
dreame,  heigho  — 

170  Pra.  You  begin  to  be  sleepy  ;  I  can  prescribe  you  a  medi 
cine  of  Poppy,  Mandragora,  and  other  drowsy  Syrops  3) ;  heida, 
all  a  sleepe  ?  if  my  charge  sleepes,  let  me  rest,  for  by 
this  drinke  i'me  heavy  too  -  All  sleepes. 

Vrs.  The'ir  all  asleepe,  I  have  a  heavy  slough 
175  Come  o're  my  eie-lids  ;  Some  dorr  4)  hath  strucke  me*, 
I  cannot  wake,  and  must  give  way  to  rest. 

Sleepe. 


*)  soke  BC    2)  pelpes  BC    3)  Sirrop  BC    4)  Somisdore  BC 


gO  The  Vow-breaker, 

Sleepe.  Enter  Ghost. 

Gh.  Deaths  eldest  daughter,  sleepe,  with  silencies 
Has  charm'd  yond  beldams,  no  jarring  clocke 
Nor  murmuring  winde  dares  oppose  just  fate. 

180  Awake,  fond  mortall,  ne're  to  sleepe  againe  ; 
Now  is  the  time  I  come  to  claime  my  promise, 
Alive  or  dead,  I  must,  and  will  enjoy  thoe. 

An.  Blesse  me,  I  was  in  my  dream e  againe  ;  ha  ! 
Mothers,  Cozens,  Mid-wife,  all  drown'd  in  sleepe  ? 

i85  Then  my  decreed  houre  is  here  set  downe, 
I  must  away  ? 

Gh.  With  expedition; 
The  Ferry-man  attends  thee  at  the  verge 
Of  Cocitus,  and  sooty  Acheron, 
And  he  shall  waft  thee  into  Tartary, 

190  Where  perjury,  and  false-hood  finds  reward  ; 
There  shalt  thou  reade  thy  history  of  faults, 
And  mong'st  the  furies  finde  just  recompence  ; 
I'le  bring  thee  over  Turrets,  Towres,  and  Steeples, 
O're  shady  Groves,  brineish  Mears,  and  Brookes, 

195  The  flattring  Sea  to  me  is  navigable, 

O're  steepy  Mountaines,  and  the  craggy  Rocks, 
Whose  heights  Kisse  Starres,  and  stop  the  flying  Clouds, 
Wee'le  through  as  swift  as  Swallowes  in  recourse. 
The  Chauntecleere  summons  my  retreat, 

200  Singing  *)  a  period  to  my  pilgrimage  ; 

From  nipping  frosts,  and  penetrating  blastes, 

Could  snowes,  blacke  thawes,  and  misty  killing  deawes, 

I'le  lead  thee  to  the  ever-flaming  Furnace, 

That  like  a  Feaver  fed  by  opposite  meates, 

2o5  Engenders,  and  consumes  it  selfe  with  heate. 
I'le  peirce  the  Aire  as  with  a  thunder  bolt, 
And  make  thy  passage  free  ;  make  speede,  away  ! 
Thy  broken  contract  now  thou  goest  to  pay. 

Enter 


4)  Signing  BC 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  61 

Enter.  l)  Shee  leaving  her  bed. 

An.   Oh   helpe,   succour   :   helpe !   wives,   cozens,    Mid- wives, 
210  Good  Angels  guard  me  !  I  goe,  but  cannot  tell, 
Wether  my  journey  be,  to  Heaven  or  hell. 

Vrs.  I  have  slept  this  houre,  how  d'yee,  cozen?  ha?  cozen, 
here ! 2)  ay  me,  where?  alas,  no  where !  ay  me,  she's  gon,  she's  gon  ! 

Pra.  Heigho,  what's  the  matter,  Mistris  Vrsula  ! 
2i5       Vrs.  Alas  !  my  cozen,  she's  gon,  she's  gon  ! 
Mar.  Mary,  Jove  forbid. 
Long.  I  did  not  like  her  dreame. 
Barr.  Nor  I,  I  promise  you. 

Pra.  Dispatch   every  one  severall   waies,   some   to  th'  feilds, 
220  some   to'th  water-side  !   las,   'tis   but  a  fit,  twill  be  over  pre 
sently  —  away,  away  severally  ! 

Exeunt,  and  enter  Boote. 

Bo.  What  meanes  this  noise  !  how  comes  my  doores  open  at 
this  time  o'th  night  ?  I  hope  my  daughters  well, 

Vrs.  Oh  sir,  shee  is  - 
225      Bo.  Not  dead  I  hope. 

Vrs.  I  know  not  that  neyther  ;  but  whilst  we 
After  long  watching  tooke  a  litle  rest 
She's  stolne  out  of  her  bed,  and  fled  away, 
The  doores  quite  open,  and  the  infant  here. 

Enter  Women  bringing  Anne. 

280      Bo.  Heaven  blesse  her  !  I  am  strucke  dead  with  griefe. 

She  has  beene  subject  to  distemper'd  passions  ; 

Jove  grant,  she  works  no  harme  upon  her  selfe  ; 

Me  thinkes  she  should  not  for  the  infants  sake  ; 

Poore  babe,  it  smiles,  it  lacks  no  mother  yet. 
235  Till  it  misse  the  brest,  she  cannot  be  farre 

But  they  may  find  her  out ;  their's  a  great  Snow 

Fal'ne 


2  The  Vow-breaker, 

Fal'ne  this  night,  and  by  her  foote  stepps  they  may 
Easily  trace  her,  where  she  is. 

Vrs.  Oh  misery ! 

Behold  the  saddest  spectacle  of  woe, 
240  That  ever  mortall  eies  tooke  notice  of.  l) 

Pra.  We  trac'd  her  through  the  Snow,  step,  by  step, 
Vntill  we  came  unto  the  River  side, 
Where  like  a  cunning  Hare  she  had  indended  2) 
To  cozen  her  persuers,  and  cozen'd  herselfe  ; 
245  For  dround  we  found  her  on  the  River  side 
Nigh  Collicke  Ferry. 
Bo.  Oh  my  poore  girle  ! 

Enter  Bateman  with  his  Picture. 

Ba.  Oh  my  poore  boy  ! 

Bo.  How  happy  had  I  beene  if  she  had  liv'd  ! 
25o      Ba.  How  happy  had  I  beene  if  he  had  liv'd  ! 

Bo.  Whoes  that  which  ecchoes  me,  playing  the  wanton 
With  my  miseries  ? 

Ba.  I  come  to  see  how  sorrow  does  become  thee  ; 
Doo'st  thou  remember  that  ? 

255      Bo.  What  mak'st  thou  here  ?  is  there  no  other  wracke, 
To  worke  my  miseries  higher,  but  thy  selfe, 
And  art  thou  come  for  that  ?  oh  my  poore  girle  ! 
Ba.  Monster,  behold  my  poore  boyes  Picture  ; 
Thou  would' st  not  shed  a  teare,  nor  lend  a  sigh, 
260  Poore  emblem  of  a  penitentiall  heart, 

When  in  these  armes  I  hug'd  my  dead  boyes  corpes  ; 
Now  monster,  who  i'st  will  weepe  or  sigh  3)  for  thine  ? 
Bo.  Monster,  thou  troublest  me. 
Ba.  Murderer,  I  will. 

See  what  the  fruites  of  wealth  have  brought  thee  now, 
265  An  everlasting  scandall  of  thy  name  ; 

A  conscience  full  of  horror,  and  black  deedes  ; 

Natures  externall  superfluities, 

Her  white,  and  red  Earth,  rubbidg,  drosse,  and  oare, 

Which 


l)  off.  BC    ~)  intended    3)  figh  C 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  63 

Which  she  but  lent  thee  to  kccpc  Marts  withall, 

270  Thou  hast  converted  to  most  grosse  abuses, 

Thou  wouldst  not  else  have  scorn'd  my  poore  boyes  love, 
To  match  with  wealthy  German  ;  see  thy  fruits, 
Thy  basis  l),  and  foundations  now  are  suncke, 
And  looke,  there  lyes  the  ruiiies  of  thy  workes. 

275       Bo.  Oh  misery  I  my  hart-strings  cracke  with  griefe, 
Yet  will  not  burst,  oh  say,  hast  thou  yet  done  ? 

Ba.  Xoe,  I  will  make  thee  sensible  of  thy  ills  2), 
First  thou  art  causer  of  thy  daughters  death, 
For  thou  enforc'd  her  to  the  breach  of  faith  ; 

280  Next  my  sonns  ruin,  whom  paricide  3)  like, 
Thou  laugd'st  at  in  his  fatall  tragedy  ; 
Whom  4)  but  a  villaine  that  abjures  all  lawes, 
That  breakes  all  precepts,  both  of  heave'ns,  and  mans, 
And  natures  too,  could  have  done  this  ?  should  I, 

285  Like  one  that  dares  affront  divinity, 
Laugh  at  thy  daughters  fall  ? 

Bo.  Hast  thou  done  yet  ? 
I  doe  beseech  thee  for  this  infants  sake, 
Which  sets  a  smiling  brow  on  miseries 
And,  even  by  instinct,  prayes  the  5)  to  forgive, 

290  Commiserate  my  woes  ;  it  greives  me  now 
I  did  derid  6)  thy  miseries  ;  be  but  content 
I'le  weepe  till  thou  shalt  say,  it  is  enough, 
So  that  we  may  be  friends. 

Ba.  I  cannot  chuse 
But  beare  a  burden  in  calamities  ; 

290  Our  angers  have  like  tapers  spent  themselves, 
And  onely  lighted  others,  and  not  us  ; 
Striving  like  great  men  for  supremacy, 
We  haue  confounded  one  anothers  goodnes  ; 
Come,  we  will  be  freinds,  i'le  dig  a  solemne  7)  cell. 

3oo  Which  shall  be  hung  with  sables  round  about, 
Where  we  will  sit,  and  write  the  tragedy 
Of  our  poore  children  ;  i'le  ha'it  so  set  downe 
As  not  one  eye  that  vewes  it,  but  shall  weepe, 

Not 


i)  bazes  -    2)  ils,  —    3)  parac'd  like,  BC    «)  Who    5)  thee  BC    «)  deride 

7\  ^.  ,!..i,,..    I  :( 


7)  soleuie  BC 


64  The  Vow-breaker, 

Not  any  ear  but  sadly  shall  relent ; 
3o5  For  never  was  a  story  of  more  ruth, 

Then  this  of  him,  and  her,  yet  nought  but  truth.  Exeunt  Omnes. 

Acttis  Quintus,  Scena  Primal 

Enter  Arguile,  Clifton,  Monlucke,  Jo.,  Ball,  Miles, 

Souldiers,  Mortigue,  Doysells,  Souldiers 

on  the  Walls. 

Clif.  After  the  hand  of  warre  has  raz'd  your  walls, 
Affrighting  peace  from  your  Ivory  beds, 
And  like  the  reaper  with  his  angry  sickle 
Leaves  the  Earth  full  of  scares,  and  wounds, 
5  Yet  after  plasters  her  with  her  owne  crop, 
So  come  we  after  warres  bloudy  2)  turmoiles 
To  bring  you  peace,  which  had  you  sued  before, 
Thousands  that  now  ly  boweld  in  the  earth 
Had  liv'd  to  memory  what  we  have  done, 
lo  Set  ope  your  gates,  &  with  spred  armes  embrace  her 
For  which  as  followes  yee  have  articulated, 

Mon.  Which  we,  Monluck,  Bishop  of  Valence, 
Labrosse,  A  my  ens  joynt  commissioners 
For  the  most  Christian  King,  and  Queene, 
1 5  Francis,  and  Mary  of  France,  and  Scotland, 
Have  Confirm'd. 

Mor.  Doy.  Which  we,  as  duty  bindes,  mast  obey. 
Clif.    The    Articles    thus    follow,    The    most    mighty    Prin- 
cesse   Elizabeth,   by  the   grace   of    God,    of   England,   France, 
20  and     Ireland    Queene,    defender    of    the    faith,     &c    and    the 
most    Christian  King  Francis,   and  Mary,   by  the  same  grace 
King,    and     Queene    of    France,     and     Scotland,    have     bore 
Record    upon    a    reconciliation    of    peace,    and    amity     to     be 
inviolably    kept    betweene    them,    their    subjects,   Kingdomes, 
a5  and  confines;  and  therefore  in  their  names  it  is  straitly  com 
manded  to   all  manner   of  persons,    borne    under    their    obey- 

sances, 


l)  Vor  Leith.    -)  warre,  bloudy  BC 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  65 

sances,  or  being  in  their  services,  to  lay  by  all  hostility  eyther 

by  Sea  or  Land,   and  to  keepe  good  peace  eyther  with  other 

from  this  time  forwards,  as  they  will  answer  therto,  at  their 
3o  utmost  perils  ;  long  live  Elizabeth,  Francis,  and  Mary  ! 
Omn.  Long  live  Elizabeth,  &c. 
Mor.  We  much  desire  to  heare  the  Articles, 

On  which  this  peace  stands  fully  ratifi'd. 

Clif.  They  are  thirteene  in  number  ; 
35  The  principall,  and  of  most  effect,  are  these, 

That  the  French  Souldiers,  and  all  men  of  warre 

Leave  the  Realme  of  Scotland  in  twenty  daies, 

Six  score  Souldiers  onely  are  excepted, 

Three  score  of  them  to  remainc  at  Inskeith, 
4o  And  three  score,  at  the  Castle  of  Dun-bar r, 

Their  wages  to  be  paid  from  the  estates 

of  Scotland,  and  to  live  lawfull  subjects 

To  the  Lawes,  and  ordinances  of  that  Realme  ; 

All  fortifications  in,  or  about  Leith 
45  Which  by  the  French  was  built  shalbc  defaced  ; 

That  France  conveigh  not  any  man  of  warre 

Nor  ammunition  into  this  Land, 

Without  a  free  consent  in  Parliament 

Of  the  three  estates  of  these  great  Kingdomes. 
5o  That  Francis,  and  Mary,  King,  and  Queene  of  France, 

From  henceforth  beare  not  the  Armes  of  England 

Which  solely  appertaine  to  our  dread  Mistris, 

The  Queene  of  England,  and  to  no  other. 

These  as  you  hope  for  peace,  you  must  observe. 
55      Mor.  We  subjects  are  the  hands,  Kings  are  the  heads, 

And  what  the  head  commands,  the  hands  must  act ; 

Our  barrocadoed  l)  portalls  shall  flic  ope, 

And  yeild  entrance  ;  if  war-like  Clifton  pleaset 

As  we  have  fought  together,  so  wee'le  feast ; 
60  Such  viands  as  a  raized  Towne  can  yeild 

You  shall  receive  ;  noble  sir  Francis  Leake 

Hath  in  this  manner  proclam'd  this  peace 

On  the  North-side  whom  we  will  gratulate 

With 

!)  barricacloed 


66  The  Vow-breaker, 

With  tearmes  of  honour  ;  will  it  please  you  enter  ? 

65       Clif.  By  my  Hollidam,  we  accept  your  offer  ; 
Lay  by  your  armes  ;  still  after  frayes  come  feasts, 
To  which  we  Souldiers  are  the  welcom'st  guests  ; 
Vnbrace  our  drums,  instead  of  warr's  Allarmes,  Exeunt  Omnes 
Wee'le  meete,  like  constant  lovers,  arme  in  armes.  (nisi  Crosse,Bal 

70      Bal.    See,   Joshua  is    enter'd ;    one    cup   of  briske    Orleanc* 
Makes  him  i'th  temper  he  was  when  he  leap'd  into  Leene. 
Cros.  Will  he  be  drunke  ? 

Bal.  Most  swine-like,  and  then  by  the  vertue  of  his 
good  liquor  hee's  able  to  convert  any  Brownisticall  sister. 

75       Cros.  An  excellent  quality  ! 

Bal.  Nay,  in  that  moode,  you  shall  have  him,  insteac 
of  presenting  Pyramus,  and  Thisbe,  personate  Cato  Censorious 
and  his  three  sons  ;  onely  in  one  thing  he's  out,  one  of  Cato'* 
sons  hang'd  himselfe,  and  that  he  refer's  to  a  dumbe  show  ; 

80       Cros.  Me  thinks  he  should  hang  himselfe  for  the  jest  sake. 

Bal.  As  he  did  his  Cat  for  killing  a  Mouse  on  Sunday  ; 
see  !  he  has  top'd  the  cannikin  already ;  now  will  he  sing 
treason  familiarly ;  being  sober,  aske  him  why  he  did  it; 
in  sincerity,  it  was  not  he,  it  was  his  drinke. 

Enter  Joshua,  reeling  with  Jacks. 

85      Jos.   As    it  is    in    the    painted    cloath,    in    sincerity  ;    good 
liquor  quickens  the  spirit. 

When  from  the  warrs  I  doe  returne, 
And  at  a  cup  of  good  Ale  mourne  : 
Tie  tell  how  Townes  without  fire  we  did  burne, 
9°  and  is  not  that  a  wonder  ? 

Bal.  That's  more  then  the  painted  cloath  ! 
Jos.  Tie  tell  how  that  my  Generall, 

Enter'd  the  breach,  and  scald  the  wall, 
And  made  the  formost  battery  of  all, 
95  and  it  l)  not  that  a  wonder  ? 

Cros. 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  67 

Cros.  Admirable  ! 

Jos.     How  that  we  went  to  take  a  Fort, 
And  tooke  it  too  in  warr-like  sort ; 
Tie  sweare  that  a  ly  is  a  true  report, 
100  and  is  not  that  a  wonder  ? 

Cros.  Ther's  wonder  in  that,  Jo  ! 

How  that  we  Souldiers  had  true  pay, 
And  cloath,  and  vifles  every  day, 
And  never  a  Captaine  ran  away, 
io5  and  is  not  that  a  wonder  ? 

Bal.  Nay,  and  but  sixe  daies  to'th  weeke. 

Jos.    Is   there    any    man    here    desires    to    edyfie?   I  am   in 

the   humour   of   converting  ;    I   was    converted    in   my    driiike, 

and    so    are    most    of   my    brethren ;    I'le    stand    while   I   am 

no  able,  and  then  will  goe  sleepe  on  it.  Exit  Jos. 

Bal.  Hee's  gone  both  waies;  see  the  French  Lords,  &our's  enter. 

Musique ;  Enter  Lord  Grey,  Clifton,  Arguile,  attendants, 
Monlucke,  Mortigue,  Doysells,  all  embrace. 

Mon.  On  honorable  tearmes  we  now  embrace. 
Gr.  If  what  we  articl'd  be  full  perform'd. 
Clif.  They  are,  my  Lord,  in  each  particular, 
n5  And  the  French  ready  to  depart  the  Towue  ; 
By  my  Hollidam,  they  have  feasted  us, 
Not  like  to  foes,  but  friends  ;  'tis  my  wonder, 
That  a  beseiged  Towne  could  yeild  such  Gates, 
I  such  extremities,  and  exigents, 
120  Full  forty  severall  messes,  yet  not  one, 
Eyther  of  fish  or  flesh  ;  onely  on  dish, 
Which  was  the  daintiest,  (a  powder'd  horse) 
That  I  tooke  notice  off. 

Gr.  Large  stomacks,  and  empty  sallet  dishes 
ia5  Are  the  French-mans  viandes  ;  his  banquet  ings 
Cloyes  not  the  stomacke,  but  gives  satiety 
A  fresh  appetite  ;  that  makes  the  body 

Active 


f}g  The  Vow-breaker, 

Active,  and  full  of  generous  fires  ; 

Full  dishes  are  like  potions  unto  them, 
i3o  I  know  not  whether  nicety  or  want, 
Clif.  By  my  Hollidam  ;  want,  want ; 

Give  me  the  English  chine,  and  that  feedes  men, 

And  they  that  feede  well,  certainly  will  fight 

Vnlesse  some  Woolfe,  or  maw-  Worme  be  internate  ; 
i35      Arg.  I  relish  your  opinion. 

Gr.  Lords  of  France,  you  may  depart  at  pleasure. 

F.  Lo.  Prosperity,  and  peace  ever  t'wixt  France,  and  England  ! 

E.  Lo.  Amen,  saith  England ;  when  France  forgets  her  pride 

England  will  honour  her, 
140       Gr.  Come,  my  coemates  in  warre, 

Our  Souldiers  instantly  shall  march  for  Barwicke, 

The  Duke  of  Norfolke  waites  their  arrivall. 

Sir  Francis  Leake  shall  give  them  safe  conduct ; 

You,  Ar guile,  Clifton,  and  my  selfe, 
i45  With  expedition  are  for  Nottingham, 

To  meete  our  peerlesse  princesse  Elizabeth 

Who  in  her  progresse  there  will  lay  her  Court. 

Arguile  shall  there  receive  the  hostages 

Due  to  the  federary  Lords  of  Scotland ; 
i5o  Wee'le  turne  warr's  clangors  into  musik's  sweete, 

And  like  new  vested  pares  in  wed-locke  meete.     Exeunt  Omnes. 

(Scene  2.)  *)  Enter  Miles,  and  Ball. 

Bal.  What,  if  it  were  a  Puppet-play  ? 

Mi.    Absurd,    absurd !     thei'le    be     out    in    turning    up    the 
white  of  the  eies  ;  besides,  ther's  none  of  us  can  speake  i'th  nose. 

Bal.  Yes,  Joshua; 

5  Mi.  Most  abhominable  !  wood'st  thou  have  a  Puritan  speake 
to  a  Play  ;  a  Puppet  Play  !  thou  ought'st  to  be  burn'd  for  thy 
hereticall  conceit ;  why,  thou  poison'd  sowter,  wood'st  thou  have 
a  Puritan  speake  to  a  Play  ?  still  give  me  the  hobby-Horse . 

Bal.  But  who  shall  play  the  hobby-Horse  ?  Master  Major  ? 
10      Mi.  I  hope,  I  looke  as  like  a  hobby-Horse  as  Master  Major  ;  I 
have  not  liv'd  to  these  yeares,  but  a  man  woo'd  thinke  I  should 

be 

»)  Scene  :  Clifton. 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton .  69 

be   old  enough,   and   wise   enough,   to   play   the    hobby-Horse, 
aswell  as  ever  a  Major  on'em  all  ; 

Bal.  Not  so,  cholericke  Miles. 

i5  Mi.  Let  the  Major  play  the  hobby-Horse  among  his  bretheren, 
and  he  will ;  I  hope  our  Towne  Ladds  cannot  want  a  hobby- 
Horse  ;  have  I  practic'd  my  Reines,  my  Carree'res,  my  Pran- 
ckers,  my  Ambles,  my  false  Trotts,  my  smooth  Ambles,  and 
Canterbury  Paces,  and  shall  Master  Major  put  me  besides  the  hobby- 
20  Horse  ? 

Bal.  Thou  wilt  not  understand  me,  Miles  ! 

Mi.  I  am  an  asse  if  I   doe  not ;   have  I  borrow'd  the  fore 
Horse-bells,   his   Plumes,   and    braveries,   nay,   had   his    mane 
new  shorne,  and  friz'ld,  and  shall  the  Major  put  me  besides 
25  the  hobby-Horse  ?  let  him  hobby-Horse  at  home,  and  he  will ! 

Bal.  Thou  art  impatient. 

Mi.   Woo'd  it  not  make  a  man   impatient  ?    am    I    not    go 
ing  to  buy  ribbons,  and  toyes  of  sweet  Vrsula  for  the  Marian, 
and  shall  not  I  play  the  hobby-Horse  ? 
3o      Bal.  Why  then,  let  the  Major  speake  the  Oration  ; 

Mi.    Disgracefull  !    am    not  I   able  to   make  a  narration  to 

the  Prince  ?  I  have  plai'd  a  Major  in   my  time  with  as  good 

dacity  as  e're   a  hobby-Horse  on'em  all ;  and  the  Major   will 

prompt    me,   let    him,   he    shall    finde,    i'le    stand   out  like  a 

35  man  of  Coventry. 

Bal.  What  shall  Joshua  doe  ? 

Mi.    Not    know    of    it    by    any    meanes ;    hee'l    keepe   more 
stir  with  the  hobby-Horse,  then  he  did  with  the  Pipers  at  Ted- 
bury  Bull-running;  provide  thou  for  the   Dragon,  and  leave 
4o  me  for  a  hobby-Horse. 

Ball.  Feare  not,  i'le  be  a  fiery  Dragon  l). 

Enter  Vrsula. 

Mil.  And  I  a  thund'ring  St.  George  as  ever  rode  on 
horsebacke ;  but  see,  younders  sweete  Vrsula,  more  white 
then  soote,  and  blacker  then  white  Snow. 

45       Vrs.   Younder's   my  Antagonist;  a  haunts  me  like  a  ghost, 

'cause 


»)  Exit. 


70  The  Vow-breaker, 

'cause  I  us'd  to  make  him  the  prologue  to  be  merry  ;  he 
forsooth  conceits  'tis  love  ;  sir,  reverence  ; 
why,  Vrsula,  Neece  Vrsula  I  Within. 

Vrs..  That's  my  uncle's  call,  if  I  staya l)  litle,  he'le  fetch 
5o  me  in',  which  if  he  does,  I  may  perchance  harpe  upon  a 
conceit  to  beate  this  parboil'd  gentlemans  love  out  of  my 
mealy  Millers  coat.  Sings. 

Miles.  You  dainty  Dames,  so  finely  dek'd 

In  beauties  to  behold, 

55  And  you  that  trip  it  up,  and  downe 

Like  Lambes  in  Cupids  fould, 
Not  farre  from  Nottingham,  of  late, 
In  Clifton,  as  /  heare 
There  dwelt  a  faire,  and  comely  dame, 
60  For  beauty  without  peere. 

Vrs.  How  now,  Master  Miles,  singing  ? 
-Mi.  I,  Mistris  Vrsula,  a  very  mery  lamentable  dolefull 
new  Ditty  of  young  Bateman,  and  his  Nan;  that  ever  poore 
young  gentleman  should  die  like  a  bird  on  a  Tree,  for  the 
65  love  to  a  woman  —  for  here  it  is  in  the  third  staff. 

Her  Haire  was  like  the  crisped  Gold 

Oft  times  you  may  perceive, 
The  fairest  face,  the  falsest  heart, 

And  soonest  will  deceive. 

70  Mistris  Vrsula,  I  give  you  this  as  a  caution  to  remember 
Bateman,  and  his  sweet,  your  cozen ;  looke  on  me,  and  veiw 
your  selfe,  were  it  not  pitty  I  should  hang  my  selfe  for 
love,  and  that  you  should  die  none  knowes  how  ? 
Why,  Vrsula,  Neece  Vrsula  !  Within. 

75  Vrs.  Alas !  what  shall  we  doe?  if  my  uncle  comes,  hee'le 
take  thee  for  a  Ghost,  his  braine  is  so  fraught  with  dis 
tempers,  and  then  falls  he  raging  madd  ; 

Mi.  Will  he  not  strike  ? 

Why  Vrsula,  Neece  Vrsula;  Within. 

80       Vrs.  Sometimes  hee  will  ;  so  after  your  fit  is  over,  I'le 

prescribe 

4)  stay  a 


or  the  fayre  Maid  of  Clifton.  71 

prescribe  a  remedy  against  love. 

r 

Enter  Boote  i'ns  shirt. 

Bo.   Passion,   on  passion  I   am   I  gro\vne  old,  and  odious  in 
your  eies  ?  what,  no  attendance,  Mistris  ? 

Vrs.  Oh  Lo-oooord,  sir, 

85      Bo.  What  ailes  thee  woman,  what's   the  matter  ?  ha  !   why 
doe'st  l)  thou  quake,  shake,  tremble,  and  shiver  ?  ha  ! 
Vrs.  Oh  there,  there,  there  ! 

Bo.  Bee'st  thou  the  devill,  I  will  talke  with  thee  ; 
Mi.  Ha,  ha,  no  foole  to  th'old  one,  he  takes  me  for  a  Ghost ; 
90      Bo.  Art  thou  of  aire,  of  earth,  heaven  or  hell, 
Or  art  thou  of  some  Incubusses  breede  ? 
Is  there  more  walking  Batemans  ?  answer  me, 
Or  I  will  beate  thy  carcas  into  a  forme 
That  is  full  substantiall,  and  has  feeling, 

95  Seeing,    hearing,    smelling,    and    sweete-tasting  ;    Ghost,    I'le 
thunder  thee 1 

Mi.  Oh,  ho,  Master  Boote,  Master  Boote  — 
Bo.  I;    can   the  devill   feele,  or  is   he   sensible   of  beating? 
What  art  thou  ?  hast  thou  feeling  ? 

100      Mi.    I,    and    hearing,    and    seeing    too ;    and    you'l    let    me 
alone  i'le  tell  you  what  I  am ; 
Bo.  Ghost,  i'le  confine  thee ; 

Mi.    'Las    sir,   I'me    no    Ghost ;   I  am    plaine   honest  Miles, 
the  Miller,  of  Rnddington  ;  a  gentleman,  and  a  Souldier, 
io5      Bo.  And  Miles  the    Miller    of    Ruddington.    gentleman,    and 
Souldier,  what  make  you  here  ? 

Mi.  Alas  sir,  to  borrow  a  few  ribbands,  bracelets,  eare-rings 
wyertyers,  and  silke  girdles,  and  hand-kerchers  for  a  Morice, 
and  a  show  before  the  Queene. 
no      Bo.  Miles,  you  came  to  steale  my  Neece. 

Mi.  Oh  Lord,  sir;  I  came  to  furnish  the  hobby-horse. 
Bo.  Get  into  your  hobby-horse  gallop,   and  be  gon  then,  or 
i'le  Morisdance  you  —  Mistris,  waite  you  on  me.  Exit. 
Urs.  Farewell,  good  hobby-horse  —  weehee  —  Exit. 
n5      Mil.  'Tis  but   a  jades  tricke,   Mistris   Vrsula;  but  patience, 
the 

!)  doo'st  C 


72  The  Vow-breaker, 

the    enemy    to    greatnes    is     my     content,    and    in    that    hun 
I  will  forrage*on  like  the  hobby-Horse.  Exeunt  Omne 

(Scene  3.) 2)  Enter  Major,  Aldermen,  attendants,  Queene,  and 
Lords  attendants. 

Qu.  Master  Major  ! 

We  thanke  you  for  your  entertainment, 

And  for  your  princely  present,  a  cup  of  gold  ! 

In  gratefullnes  we  backe  returne  the  keyes 
5  With  all  the  embleames  of  your  government ; 

We  in  our  progresse  are  a  sojourner, 

Not  an  inhabitant,  we  will  be  so  with  you  ; 

A  welcome  fuller  of  bounty,  vertue,  love, 

We  have  not  seene  ;  therefore  to  gratulate 
10  As  a  small  token  of  our  princely  love, 

On,  to  your  former  motion  made  for  Trent. 

You'd  have  it  navigable  to  Gainsborough 

So  to  Boston,  Kingston,  Humber,  and  Hull ; 

But,  what  are  the  causes  ? 
i5      Ma.    By    St.    Lucy,    Besse,    I    am    a   plaine    honest    Tanner, 

brother  aldermen  here,  one  a  Shoo-maker,  to'ther  a  Felnionger  ;  w< 

all    downe    right    toth'hide  ;    I    ha'    noe    Lawyers    eloquence, 

Recorder    cannot    whistle,     but,     by    the     bones     of    sweete 

Lucy,  welcome,  on  welcome. 
20      Qu.  I  have  tasted  your  welcome,  and  would  faine 

Grant  your  designe,  soe  you  give  reason. 
Ma.     By     St.     Lucy,    and     shall,     elce     i'm     an    asse,     and 

bretheren      Dotterel  Is  ;       Give      reason,       brother       Sheeps-ki 

second     me,     for     I     must     speake      Historiography,     Histor 
a5  should     say,     but     these     hard     words     cloy     my     stomacke, 

lumpes  of  Bacon. 

Qu.  Ya'r  a  merry  man,  Master  Major. 

Ma.    I    were    a    Traitour    elce,     I    woo'd    not    be     merry 

thee,   Besse ;   still   welcome,   and   welcome  ; 
3o       Qu.  On,  to  your  Charter  ! 
Ma.  Thus  it  was, 

Edward  the  first  from  4)  we  beare  our  armes, 

Three  Crownes  displaied  in  an  Azure  feilde, 

3 


Exit.    2)  Scene  :  Nottingham.    3)  Sheepskin    <)  from  whom 


or  the  fayre  Maid  of  Clifton.  73 

First  'gan  to  make  our  River  navigable, 

Small  barks  it  bore,  but  not  of  that  full  weight, 
35  That  were  transportable  for  our  affaires  ; 

In  the  two  Edwards,  the  second,  and  third, 

Vnto  the  second  Richard  it  continu'd 

Till  Bulling-brooke  began  !  then  Harry  the  fift, 

And  Pearcy  fell  at  odds  ;  in  which  division, 
4o  Dividing  of  the  Land,  Glendower  began 

To  stop  the  water-courses  of  flowing  Trent ; 

By  that  meanes  our  navigable  course  was  stop'd. 

And  where  before  we  usually  transported 

With  things  un-numerous  from  Hull  to  us 
45  And  in  returixe  releiv'd  the  neighbour  coaste 

With  fuell,  and  commodities  of  great  use, 

As  Wooll,  Lead,  Corne,  fruits,  and  Iron, 

We  now  have  neyther,  but  with  double  cost ; 

This  is  the  cause  why  we  entreate  your  Grace 
5o  To  signe  our  pattent,  and,  by  St.  Lucy,  Besse, 

Wee'le  pray  for  thee,  and  that's  thy  full  reward. 
Qu.  You  shall  enjoy  your  wishes  ; 

Enter  Grey,  Clifton,  Ar guile. 

Omnes  :  Long  live  Elizabeth  ! 
Qu.  We  thanke  you  ; 

Welcome,  renowned  John  of  Wilton, 
55  And  you,  the  war-like  Heroes  of  his  traine  ; 

War-like  Clifton,  fame  has  ben  before  thee, 

And  with  her  shrill  Trumpe  sent  your  praises  home, 

E're  your  arivall ;  rise,  noble  John  of  Wilton  ; 

The  onely  champion  of  Elizabeth. 
60      Gr.  Peace,  and  prosperity  guard  your  sacred  throne, 

And  make  your  foes  submissive  like  the  French ; 

Leith  is  surrenderd,  the  French  quite  expuls'd  ; 

The  Scotch  inhabiting  their  native  bounds, 

Whom  we  have  found  most  loyall  to  your  Grace, 
65  And  therefore  they  require  their  hostages 

Due  to  the  federary  Scottish  Lords. 

Qu. 


74  The  Vow-breaker , 

Qu.  And  they  shall  have  them;  welcome,  bold  Arguile; 
Thanke  thou  the  god  of  batles,  that  hast  given 
Prosperity  to  our  first  enterprise, 
70  Being  the  first  Batle  that  we  ever  wag'd, 
Link'd  victory  unto  a  virgin's  arme, 
For  which  we  render  thee  all  attributes  ; 
Guarded  by  thee,  and  these  our  loving  subjects, 
We  feare  noe  Spanish  force,  nor  French-mens  braves, 
75  Let  Austria  bragge  ;  and  Rome,  and  Italy 

Send  out  their  poison'd  Darts  ;  dreadlesse  we  stand 
Protected  by  thy  never  failing  power  ; 
Lord  Grey,  returne  you  governor  of  Barwicke, 
The  Duke  of  Norfolke,  for  some  speciall  causes 
80  We  must  recall  ;  Arguile  shall  have  his  pleadges, 
We  but  reserv'd  them  to  preserve  our  selves  ; 
Clifton,  be  thou  our  deputy  Leivetenant, 
And  Lord  warden  of  Nottingham  Castle  ; 
Our  selfe  wilbe  Leivetenant  of  the  County. 
85  For  Howard,  Pellham,  Leake,  and  all  the  rest 
That  in  this  victory  shar'd  with  dangers, 
They  shall  participate  our  princely  loves  ; 
Omnes  :  Heavens  blesse  your  Majesty  ! 
Qu.  I  know  not  how  to  dignifie  your  deedes 
90  Without  a  large  premeditation  ; 

Grey,  and  Clifton,  Clifton,  and  war-like  Grey 
Fought  for  our  father,  brother,  and  sister 
At  Dennis,  Roan,  Sullen,  and  at  Callice*, 
The  bloudy  sweat  that  Muslborough  bredd 
95  At  Edenborough.  and  now  againe  at  Leith, 
In  all  which  we  fortunately  conquer' d, 
Thankes  unto. heaven,  next  your  valiant  hands. 

Clif.  Your  Majesty  begets  a  spring  of  youth 
In  me,  an  old  decayed  Tree  of  age, 
100  Worne  with  as  many  snowy  winters  stormes, 
As  makes  the  brauny  Oake  grow  sap-les, 
Leaveles,  witherd  ;  times  period  is  ruine, 
Yet,  by  my  life,  my  heart  retaines  'its  vigour. 

And 


or  the  fay  re  Maid  of  Clifton.  75 

And  what  we  want  in  deedes,  wee'le  act  in  duty 
io5  To  you  the  Soveraigne  mistris  of  our  hearts. 

Qu.  Master  A/a/or,  and  noble  John  of  Wilton, 
And  war-like  Clifton  with  all  your  men  of  warre 
We  this  night  doe  invite  you  for  our  gueasts, 
To  sup  with  us  ;  to  morrow  wee'le  survey 
no  The  underminings,  and  unpaced  greise 
That  Mortimer,  and  Isabell  did  devise 
To  steale  their  sportive  daliancies  in, 
Of  whom  your  stately  fortresse  does  retaine 
The  Labyrinth  (now  called  Mortimers  hole).- 
n5  Heaven  for  our  victory  we  first  will  pay, 

And  praise  our  subjects  that  redeem'd  the  day  ; 
Proud  France,  and  poyseiiing  Spaine,  if  heave'n  us  blesse 
A  virgin's  arine  shall  quell  your  mightines. 
O nines  :  Long  life  attend  your  Majesty  ! 

Exeunt  O  nines. 


FINIS. 

W.  S. 


Errata  et  Addenda. 


I,  i,  17  :  lies  Watch  statt  Watch  I 

II,  2, 83  :    »    you.  »     you  ? 

II,  3,  i3y  :  gemeint  ist  Linnet. 

III,  3,  Uberschrift  :  lies  Scene  3  stutt  Enter  3, 
111,  i,  i03  :  lies  heare      statt  here. 

JV,  2,  i3    :    »    husband     »     husband. 


Anmerkungen. 


I,  i,  8  ff.  :  Die  Zeilen  si  ml  wahrschuinlicli  so  xu  lesen  : 

...  With  this  formallity  disciplines  them 
(Kisse.)  At  the  departure, 
wo  4  Kisse  '  cin  Buhnenanwcisung  ist. 

I,  i,  68  :  You  shall  fetch  no  Bacon  at  Dnnmowc  : 

Tlio  Dunuiow  Flitch  of  Bacon  was  a  pri/c  instituted  in 
1244*  by  Robert  Fit/waiter,  on  the  condition  '  that  what 
ever  married  couple  will  go  to  the  priory,  and  kneeling 
on  two  sharppointed  stones,  will  swear  that  they  have  not 
quarrelled  nor  repented  of  their  marriage  within  a  year 
and  a  day  after  its  celebration,  shall  receive  a  flitch  of 
bacon  '.  The  prize  was  first  claimed  in  i44^>  2<)O  years  after 
it  had  been  instituted.  After  1751,  up  to  which  date  only 
5  presentations  had  taken  place,  the  flitch  was  not  again 
claimed  till  i855.  (Chambers's  Encyclopaedia;  London  and 
Edinburgh,  1904). 

I,  i,  114  ff.  :  Vielleicht  so  gemeint  : 

And  but  for  thy  daughter,  1'de,  i'de,  i'de,  i'de  - 
Bo.  Come,  come  ! 
I,  2,  6  ff.  :  Offenbar  als  Verse  gedacht  : 

Well  shod,  and  clad  will  mak'em  fight  like  men  ! 
The  North  is  could,  subject  to  frostcs,  and  snowes, 
And  tis  bad  fighting  without  vittle,  and  cloth  ! 
For  which  I  have  provided  well  for  both  ; 
Forty  horse  loades,  and  twenty  Carrs  of  vittle, 
Twill  stop  a  good  breach  in  a  souldiours  belly  ! 
My  man  shall  pay  thee,  huffit ;  my  Hollidam  ! 

I,  3  :  Holinshed    neniit    unter     den     chiefe     gouernours     der 
englischcn    Arinee  an  erster  Stelle  (Xeudruck  1807,  Lon 
don  ;  IV,  pag.  189)  :  The  lord  Greie  of  Wilton  lieutenant 
generall. 
I,  3,  6  :  Dunbarr  :  gemeint  ist  '  a  slight   skirmish,  where  no 

one  was  killed  '  (Frondes  History  of  England,  Band  VI). 
1,  3,  9  :  Chattenreault  heisst  bei  Fronde  Chatelherault  (ib). 


8o 

J,  3,  i3  :  iiamlich  Chatelheraults. 

I,  3,  20  :  Was  rait  den  '  red  Brayes  '  gemeint  1st,  geht  aus  fol- 
gonder  Stelle  bei  Holinshed  hervor  (IV,  p.  194)  :  (The 
arinie)  remopued...  from  Lesterike  downe  into  the  vallie 
by  the  said  canon  milles  called  the  red  Braies,  iieere  to  the 
riuer  side  on  tlie  south  part  of  the  towne  of  Leith. 

I,  3,  21  :  James  Croft,  and  George  Howard,  Knights  :  auch  zwei 
der  bei  Holinshed  IV,  pag.  189  genannteu  Hauptanfuhrer 
der  Engliinder  : 

Sir  James  Croft  assistant  with  him  (Grey)  in  that  charge 
—  er  heisst  iibrigens  bei  Fronde  Crofts.  Sir  George 
Howard  generall  of  the  men  at  armes  and  demilances. 

I,  3,  49  :  Pelham  wird  auch  bei  Holinshed  IV,  pag.  189  als 
'  master  William  Pelham  capteine  of  the  pioners  '  mit  zu 
den  Hauptanfuhrern  gerechnet. 

I,  3,  99  :  Die  Fiihrer  der  Franzosen  heissen  bei  Fronde  :  de 
Martigues  nnd  d'Oysel. 

I,  3,  123  :  Mit  dem  '  Crag'  ist  Arthur's  Seat  gemeint,  eiii  noch 

hente  unter  dem  Namen  bekannter  Hiigel  bei  Edinburgh 
(vgl.  Holinshed  IV,  pag.  190/91). 

Chappell   :   eine  Kapelle  in  der  Gegend  um  ^Minburgh- 
Leith,  von  der  Holinshed  IV,  pag.  191  spricht. 
J,  4.  102  ff  :  wohl  Verse  : 

You  shall  be  marryed  instantly  ! 

And  Girle,  thou  shalt  have  one  Bagg  more  for  this  ; 

It  gladdes  me  yet,  thou  art  so  free  from  Bateman. 

I  look'd  for  other  demonstrations  ! 

Come  German, 

This  night  etc. 

II,  i,  77  ff.  :  and  bid  him  etc.  :  unklar. 

II,  i,  83  ff.  :  Eckhardt  in  seineii  Dialekttypen  (Bangs  Mate- 
rialen  XXVII)  gibt  §  236  eine  kleine  Liste  der  schottischen 
und  iiordengiischen  Ausdriicke,  die  in  diesen  Zeilen  vor- 
kommen.  Ich  zitiere  die  Stelle  : 

beanes  =  bones  (daneben  bones)  ;  bonny  ;  claw  =  kratzen  ; 
crag  =  Nacken  ;  dell  —  devil  ;  garr  ~  make  ;  Lard(es)  =-- 
Lord('s) ;  lurdeii  lourden  =  dummer  Tolpel  (zugleich  Ent- 
stellung  statt  lord) ;  pure  =  poor  ;  weame  =  womb.  Nur 
schottisch  ist  haggergath,  wohl  eine  Verdrehung  aus 
schott.  haggerdash  =  topsy-turvy;  dagegen  sind ganging  = 


going  (Part.  Praes.)  und  ise  =  I  am  nur  nordenglisch.  Eine 

unpassende  Form  ist  are  =  over. 
II,  i,  129  ff.  :  In  dieser  leidenschaftlichen  Stimmung  spricht 

Clifton  wohl  in  Versen  : 

By  my  Hollidam,  our  meeting  will  seeme  rough, 

Our  parting  faire  !  make  this  thy  quarrel,  I  pronounce 

Thy  Queene  defective  in  beauty,  vertues,  honours, 

Vnto  my  mistiis,  England's  royall  Besse  ! 

Mor.  Traitor,  thou  lyest  ! 

Clif.  Have  I  sturd  thy  blood  ? 

Mor.  With  such  an  overture,  but  thy  barbarous  head 

Nothing  can  calme  it ! 
Clif.  When  next  we  meete  we'le  try  it  ! 

II,  3,  6  :  Maria  Stuart  war  zu  der  Zeit,  in  der  miser  Stuck 

spiel t,  noch  Konigin  von  Frankreich.  Ihr  Gemahl, 
Fran/  II.,  starb  erst  am  5.  Dezember  i56o,  also  6  Monato 
nach  dem  Frieden  voii  Leith,  der  am  7.  .Iiini  gosehlossen 
wurde  (vgl.  Dr.  V,  i,  i4). 

III,  2,  55  :  Leene,  ein  Nebenflusschen  des  Trent. 
Ill,  2,  58  :  Did  not  Nadab...  :  unklar. 

III,  3,  i3  :  wohl  so  gedacht  :  the  Dolphin's  wife.  Doch  sass  der 

Dauphin  von  Frankreich  seit  i55g  als  Franz  II.  auf  dem 
Thron,  war  aber  noch  nicht  gestorben,  so  dass  ancli  hier 
Dowager  of  France  unberechtigt  ist. 

HI,  3,  21  :  Maria  Stuart  ist  die  Enkelin  Margaretes,  der 
iiltesten  Sch wester  Heinrichs  VIII.;  Elisabeth  ist  die 
Tochter  Heinrichs  VIII.  und  der  Anna  Boleyn.  Die 
Koniginnen  sind  also  keine  Schwestern,  wie  man  nach 
Sampson  glauben  konnte. 

IV,  i,  16  :  Stout  Hary  Percy;  vgl.  Holinshed  IV,  pag.  189 :  sir 

Henrie  Persic  General  1  of  the  light  horssemen. 
IV,  i,  4<>  •  Holinshed  (ib.)  :  master  Cutbert  Vaughan  corporal. 

IV,  2,  175  :  Some  dorr  (Somisdore)  hath  struck  me  :  unklar. 

V,  i,  14  :  Hier  ist  Maria  Stuart  /um  ersten  Mai  in  unserem 

Drama  richtig  als  Konigin  von  Frankreich  bezeiclmet. 

V,  3,  g3  :  gemeint  sind  Saint-Denis,  Rouen,  Boulogne  und  Calais. 

V,  3,  114  :  Mortimer's  Hole,  ein  unterirdischer  Gang  von  dem 
Flusschen  Leen  zur  Burg  von  Nottingham  hin.  Weshalb  er 
so  lieisst,  ist  in  Thorotons  History  of  Nottinghamshire 
(Republished  with  Large  Additions  by  John  Throsby. 


82 


Nottingham,  1790)  eingehend  erortert.  Es  werden  uns  drei 
Erkliirungen  gegeben  : 

1)  A  certain  author  (a  very  ill  grounded  conjecture)  :  Morti 
mer  soil  den  Gang  haben  bauen  lassen,  um  unbemerkt  zu 
Isabella  gelangen  zu  konnen.  Sampson  scheint  aucli  dieser 
Ansichtzu  sein.  (Thoroton-Throsby  II,  Seite  28). 

2)  Camden  :  ...  the  passage  noticed  was  cut  as  a  hiding  place 
for  the  favorite  Mortimer  (ib.). 

3)  Deering-Thorotoii  (ib.)  :  Er  zeigt  aus  einem  Manuscript, 
dass  Mortimer  und  Isabella  iiberhaupt  keine  Ahnung  von 
dem    Vorhandensein    des    Ganges    hatten,    dass    Konig 
Eduard  sogar  auf  diesem  Wege  die  Gefaugeniiahmc  Mor 
timers  gelang ;  er  fiilirt  dann  fort  :  It  is  therefore  much 
more  probable,  that  as  the  King  and  his  band  came  up 
this  passage  on  purpose  to  seize  Mortimer's  person,  and 
as  the  Earl  after  he  was  taken  prisoner,  was  brought  out 
of  the  castle  through  this  very  same  passage,  it  was  in 
remembrance  of  this  event  called  Mortimer's  Hole.  There 
is  no  account  when  this  vault  was  made  which  I  have  met 
with,   except  what  Collins  in   his  peerage   quotes  from 
Dray  ton's  barons  war,  viz.  '  This  wonderful  passage  had 
been  hued  and  dug  during  the  Danish  invasion  by  some 
of  the    Saxon  Kings  for  the  better  security  in  case  of  a 
siege  '.  For  my  part  if  I  consider  how  strongly  this  place 
was  provided  with  gates,!  cannot  help  thinking  that  it  \vas 
designed  to  relieve  the  castle  with  men  and  provisions,  in 
case  an  enemy  should  be  in  possession  of  the  to\vn,  the 
opening  of  it  being  both  without  the  town  and  castle  walls. 


PR 
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I636a 


Sampson,  William 

William  Sampson fs  Vow- 
breaker 


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