Works; now first collected with some account of the author and notes by Alexander Dyce

HANDBOUND
AT THE

THE WORKS

OF

THOMAS MIDDLETON,

VOL. II.

CONTAINING

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

THE ROARING GIRL.

LONDON :

PRINTED BY ROBSON, LEVEY, AND FRANKLYN,

46 St. Martin's Lane.

Ill

THE WORKS

OF

THOMAS MIDDLETON,

WITH

SOME ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR,

NOTES,

THE REVEREND ALEXANDER DYCE.

IN FIVE VOLUMES.
VOL. II.

522204

LONDON:
EDWARD LUMLEY, CHANCERY LANE.

1840.

PR

21 ll

i/,

A TRICK
TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

VOL. II.

A Tric/ce to Catch the Old- one. As it hath beene often in
Action, both at Paules^ and the Black- Fryers. Presented before
his Maiestie on New-yeares night last. Composde by T. M.
At London Printed by G: E. and are to be sold by Henry Rockytt,
at the long shop in the Poultrie vnder the Dyall. 1608. 4to.
Second ed., 1616. 4to.

This drama (which Langbaine not undeservedly calls " ex
cellent") is reprinted in the 5th vol. of A Continuation of
Dodsley's Old Plays, 1816.

A Trick to catch the Old One was licensed by Sir George
Bucke, 7th Oct. 1607 : see Chalmers's Suppl. Apol p. 201.

DRAMATIS PERSONS.

WlTGOOD.

LUCRE, his uncle.

HOARD.

ONESIPHORUS HOARD, his brother.

LIMBER,

SPICHCOCK,

DAMPIT.

GULF.

FREEDOM, son to MISTRESS LUCRE.

MONEYLOVE.

Host.

SIR LAUNCELOT.

Creditors.

Gentlemen.

GEORGE.

Drawer.

Boy.

Scrivener.

Servants, fyc.

Courtesan.
MISTRESS LUCRE.
JOYCE, niece to HOARD.
LADY FOXSTONE.
AUDREY, servant to DAMPIT.

SCENE (except during the first two scenes of act i.),
LONDON.

a Kix] I may just remark that this name is intended to
describe the person who bears it, an elderly gentleman : kix
(or, as it is generally written, hex) means a dry stalk.

A TRICK
TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

ACT I. SCENE I.

A Street in a Country Town.
Enter WITGOOD.

WIT. All's gone ! still thou'rt a gentleman, that's
all; but a poor one, that's nothing. What milk
bringa thy meadows forth now ? where are thy
goodly uplands, and thy down lands ? all sunk into
that little pit, lechery. Why should a gallant pay
but two shillings for his ordinaryb that nourishes
him, and twenty times two for his brothel0 that
consumes him? But where's Long-acre ?d in my
uncle's conscience, which is three years' voyage
about : he that sets out upon his conscience ne'er
finds the way home again ; he is either swallowed
in the quicksands of law-quillets, or splits upon the
piles of a prcemunire ; yet these old fox-brained

* bring] Old eds. " brings."

b ordinary'] See note, vol. i. p. 389.

c brothel] i. e. harlot: so in a passage of Greene's Groats-
worth of Wit (quoted in my Account of Greene and his writ
ings, p. xxx., prefixed to his Works), " brother to a brothell
he kept." The word was at an early period applied to the
worthless of both sexes.

d Long-acre'] " Probably the name of the estate Witgood
had mortgaged to his uncle." — Edit, of 1816.

6 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

and ox-browed uncles have still defences for their
avarice, and apologies for their practices, and will
thus greet our follies :

He that doth his youth expose

To brothel, drink, and danger,
Let him that is his nearest kin

Cheat him before a stranger :

and that's his uncle ; 'tis a principle in usury. I
dare not visit the city : there I should be too soon
visited by that horrible plague, my debts ; and by
that means I lose a virgin's love, her portion, and
her virtues. Well, how should a man live now
that has no living ? hum, — why, are there not a
million of men in the world that only sojourn upon
their brain, and make their wits their mercers ;
and am I but one amongst that million, and cannot
thrive upon't ? Any trick out of the compass of
lawe now would come happily to me.

Enter Courtesan.

COUR. My love !

WIT. My loathing ! hast thou been the secret
consumption of my purse, and now comest to undo
my last means, my wits ? wilt leave no virtue in
me, and yet thou ne'er the better ?
Hence, courtesan, round-webb'd tarantula,
That dry'st the roses in the cheeks of youth !

COUR. l'vef been true unto your pleasure ; and

all your lands

Thrice rack'd, wereg never worth the jewel which
I prodigally gave you, my virginity :
Lands mortgag'd may return, and more esteem'd,
But honesty once pawn'd, is ne'er redeem'd.

e out of the compass of law~\ i. e. out of the reach of, not
punishable by, law.

1 I've] Old eds. " I have." s were] bid eds. " was."

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 7

WIT. Forgive : I do thee wrong
To make thee sin, and then to chide thee for't.

COUR. I know I am your loathing now ; farewell.

WIT. Stay, best invention, stay.

COUR. I that have been the secret consumption of
your purse, shall I stay now to undo your last means,
your wits ? hence, courtesan, away !

WIT. I prithee, make me not mad at my own
weapon : stay (a thing few women can do, I know
that, and therefore they had need wear stays), be
not contrary : dost love me ? Fate^ has so cast it
that all my means I must derive from thee.

COUR. From me ? be happy then ;
What lies within the power of my performance
Shall be commanded of thee.

WIT. Spoke like

An honest drab, i'faith : it may prove something ;
What trick is not an embryon at first,
Until a perfect shape come over it ?

COUR. Come,h I must help you : whereabouts
left you ?

* Fate, &c.] Qy. was the whole of this speech originally
blank verse ?

h Come, &c.] The editor of 1816 printed,

" Come, I must help ; where left you ? I'll proceed,"
without mentioning the reading of the old eds., which I have
followed, and which (though this scene is probably more than
slightly corrupted in several places) I believe to be right.
Middleton sometimes, when he introduces a couplet, shews
perfect indifference about the length of the first line : see
note, vol. i. p. 424, and compare the following passage of
The Phoenix ;

" Without thee,

All the whole world were soiled bastardy."
vol. i. p. 351, (where, in my note, I too hastily remarked that
part of the first line had probably dropt out).

8 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

I'll proceed :

Though you beget, 'tis I must help to breed.

Speak, what is't ? I'd fain conceive it.

WIT. So, so, so : thou shalt presently take the
name and form upon thee of a rich country widow,
four hundred a-year valiant,1 in woods, in bullocks,
in barns, and in rye-stacks ; we'll to London, and
to my covetous uncle.

COUR. I begin to applaud thee ; our states being
both desperate, they are soon resolute : but how
for horses ?

WIT. Mass, that's true ; the jest will be of some
continuance. Let me see ; horses now, a bots on
'em ! Stay, I have acquaintance with a mad host,
never yet bawd to thee ; I have rinsed the whore
son's gums in mull-sack many a time and often :
put but a good tale into his ear now, so it come
off cleanly, and there's horse and man for us, I
dare warrant thee.

COUR. Arm your wits then
Speedily ; there shall want nothing in me,
Either in behaviour, discourse, or fashion,
That shall discredit your intended purpose.
I will so artfully disguise my wants,
And set so good a courage on my state,
That I will be believ'd.

WIT. Why, then, all's furnished.J I shall go nigh
to catch that old fox mine uncle : though he make
but some amends for my undoing, yet there's some
comfort in't, he cannot otherwise choose (though it
be but in hope to cozen me again) but supply any
hasty want that I bring to town with me. The

1 valiant"] i. e. worth.

J furnislied'] The editor of 1816 prints " finish'd."

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

device well and cunningly carried, the name of a
rich widow, and four hundred a-year in good earth,
will so conjure up a kind of usurer's love in him
to me, that he will not only desire my presence, —
which at first shall scarce be granted him, I'll keep
off a' purpose, — but I shall find him so officious to
deserve, so ready to supply ! I know the state of
an old man's affection so well : if his nephew be
poor indeed, why, he lets God alone with him ;
but if he be once rich, then he'll be the first man
that helps him.

COUR. 'Tis right the world ; for, in these days,
an old man's love to his kindred is like his kind
ness to his wife, 'tis always done before he comes
at it.

WIT. I owe thee for that jest. Begone : here's
all my wealth ; prepare thyself, away. I'll to mine
host with all possible haste ; and with the best art,
and most profitable form, pour the sweet circum
stance into his ear, which shall have the gift to
turn all the wax to honey. [Exit Courtesan.'] — How
no[w] ? O, the right worshipful seniors of our
country !

Enter ONESIPHORUS HOARD, LIMBER, and Kix.k
ONES. H. Who's that ?

k Enter Onesiphorus Hoard, Limber, and Kix\ In the old
eds. the entrance of these " right worshipful seniors" is not
marked, and the prefixes to their speeches are merely 1., 2.,
and 3. That one of them is Onesiphorus Hoard, there can
be no doubt. That the other two are Limber and Kix, is,
I think, as certain : they appear together with Onesiphorus
in the last scene of the play, where they are addressed as
" old master Limber and master Kix," and where they imme
diately recognise the Courtesan. — The editor of 1816 makes
the stage-direction here " Enter Two Gentlemen :" he ought
at least to have observed, that the speech which concludes
this scene is given to a third speaker.

10 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

LIM. O, the common rioter ; take no note of
him.

WIT. You will not see me now ; the comfort is,
Ere it be long you will scarce see yourselves.

\Aside ; and exit.

ONES. H. I wonder how he breathes ; has con-

sum'd all
Upon that courtesan.

LIM. We have heard so much.

ONES. H. You've1 heard all truth. His uncle

and my brother

Have been these three years mortal adversaries :
Two old tough spirits, they seldom meet but fight,
Or quarrel when 'tis calmest :
I think their anger be the very fire
That keeps their age alive.

LIM. What was the quarrel, sir ?

ONES. H. Faith, about a purchase, fetching over
a young heir. Master Hoard, my brother, having
wasted much time in beating the bargain, what did
me old Lucre, but as his conscience moved him,
knowing the poor gentleman, stept in between 'em,
and cozened him himself.

LIM. And was this all, sir ?

ONES. H. This was e'en it, sir ; yet, for all this,
I know no reason but the match might go forward
betwixt his wife's son and my niece : what though
there be a dissension between the two old men, I
see no reason it should put a difference between
the two younger ; 'tis as natural for old folks to
fall out, as for young to fall in. A scholar comes
a-wooing to my niece ; well, he's wise, but he's
poor : her son comes a-wooing to my niece ; well,
he's a fool, but he's rich.

LIM. Ay, marry, sir.

1 You've] Old eds. " You have."

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 11

ONES. H. Pray, now, is not a rich fool better
than a poor philosopher ?

LIM. One would think so, i'faith.

ONES. H. She now remains at London with my
brother, her second uncle, to learn fashions, prac
tise music ; the voice between her lips, and the
violm between her legs, she'll be fit for a consort
very speedily : a thousand good pound is her por
tion ; if she marry, we'll ride up and be merry.

Kix. A match, if it be a match. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Another Street in the same Town.
Enter WITGOOD, meeting Host.

WIT. Mine host !

HOST. Young master Witgood !

WIT. I have been laying" all the town for thee.

HOST. Why, what's the news, bully Had-land ?

WIT. What geldings are in the house, of thine
own ? answer me to that first.

HOST. Why, man, why ?

WIT. Mark me what I say : I'll tell thee such
a tale in thine ear, that thou shalt trust me spite of
thy teeth, furnish me with some money wille nille,
and ride up with me thyself contra voluntatem et
professionem.

HOST. How ? let me see this trick, and I'll say
thou hast more art than a conjurer.

WIT. Dost thou joy in my advancement ?

m the viol] i. e. the viol de gambo, which in those days it
was the fashion for ladies to play.

n laying] " Is used in the same sense by Jack Cade in the
' Second Part of Henry VI.' (Act iv. scene x.) ' These five
days have I hid me in these woods, and durst not peep out,
for all the country is lay'd for me.' " Editor of 1816.

12 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

HOST. Do I love sack and ginger ?

WIT. Comes my prosperity desiredly to thee ?

HOST. Come forfeitures to a usurer, fees to an
officer, punks to an host, and pigs to a parson de
siredly ? why, then, la.

WIT. Will the report of a widow of four hundred
a-year, boy, make thee leap, and sing, and dance,
and come to thy place again ? "

HOST. Wilt thou command me now ? I am thy
spirit ; conjure me into any shape.

WIT. I ha' brought her from her friends, turned
back the horses by a slight ;° not so much as one
among her six men, goodly large yeomanly fellows,
will she trust with this her purpose : by this light,
all unmanned, regardless of her state, neglectful of
vain-glorious ceremony, all for my love. Q, 'tis
a fine little voluble tongue, mine host, that wins a
widow !

HOST. No, 'tis a tongue with a great T, my boy,
that wins a widow.

WIT. Now, sir, the case stands thus : good mine
host, if thou lovest my happiness, assist me.

HOST. Command all my beasts i' th' house.

WIT. Nay, that's not all neither : prithee, take
truce with thy joy, and listen to me. Thou knowest
I have a wealthy uncle i' th' city, somewhat the
wealthier by my follies : the report of this fortune,
well and cunningly carried, might be a means to
draw some goodness from the usuring rascal ; for
I have put her in hope already of some estate that
I have either in land or money : now, if I be found
true in neither, what may I expect but a sudden
breach of our love, utter dissolution of the match,
and confusion of my fortunes for ever ?

0 slight] See note, vol. i. p. 441.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 13

HOST. Wilt thou but trust the managing of thy
business with me ?

WIT. With thee ? why, will I desire to thrive in
my purpose ? will I hug four hundred a-year, I
that know the misery of nothing ? Will that man
wish a rich widow, that has ne'er a hole to put his
head in ? With thee, mine host ? why, believe it,
sooner with thee than with a covey of counsellors.

HOST. Thank you for your good report, i'faith,
sir ; and if I stand you not in stead, why then let
an host come off hie et hcec hostis, a deadly enemy
to dice, drink, and venery. Come, where's this
widow ?

WIT. Hard at Park-end.

HOST. I'll be her serving-man for once.

WIT. Why, there we let off together : keep full
time ; my thoughts were striking then just the
same number.

HOST. I knew't : shall we then see our merry
days again ?

WIT. Our merry nights — which ne'er shall be
more seen. \_Aside.] [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

A Street?

Enter^ LUCRE and HOARD quarrelling ; LAMPREY,
SPICHCOCK, FREEDOM, and MONEYLOVE, coming
between to pacify them.

LAM. Nay, good master Lucre, and you, master
Hoard, anger is the wind which you're both too
much troubled withal.

P A Street] i. e. in London, which continues to be the place
of action during the rest of the play.

i Enter, &c.] Old eds. " Enter at seuerall doores."
VOL. II. C

14 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

Ho A. Shall my adversary thus daily affrontr me,
ripping up the old wound of our malice, which
three summers could not close up ? into which
wound the very sight of him drops scalding lead
instead of balsamum.

Luc. Why, Hoard, Hoard, Hoard, Hoard,
Hoard ! may I not pass in the state of quietness
to mine own house ? answer me to that, before
witness, and why ? I'll refer the cause to honest,
even-minded gentlemen, or require the mere in
differences of the law to decide this matter. I got
the purchase, true : was't not any man's case ? yes :
will a wise man stand as a bawd, whilst another
wipes his nose8 of the bargain ? no ; I answer no
in that case.

LAM. Nay, sweet master Lucre.

Ho A. Was it the part of a friend — no, rather of
a Jew ; — mark what I say — when I had beaten
the bush to the last bird, or, as I may term it, the
price to a pound, then, like a cunning usurer, to
come in the evening of the bargain, and glean all
my hopes in a minute ? to enter, as it were, at the
back door of the purchase ? for thou ne'er earnest
the right way by it.

Luc. Hast thou the conscience to tell me so
without any impeachment to thyself?

Ho A. Thou that canst defeat thy own nephew,
Lucre, lap his lands into bonds, and take the ex
tremity of thy kindred's forfeitures, because he's
a rioter, a wastethrift, a brothel-master/ and so

r affront] i. e. encounter, face.

* wipes his nose] i. e. cheats him : the expression is of fre
quent occurrence ; but not so the following one, which has
the same meaning, — " 'Twould anger any man to be nos'd of
such a match." Brome's English Moor, p. 7. — Five New Plaus,
1659.

1 brothel-master] See note, p. 5.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 15

forth ; what may a stranger expect from thee but
vulnera dilacerata, as the poet says, dilacerate
dealing ?

Luc. Upbraidest thou me with nephew ? is all
imputation laid upon me ? what acquaintance have
I with his follies ? if he riot, 'tis he must want it ;
if he surfeit, 'tis he must feel it ; if he drab it, 'tis
he must lie by't : what's this to me ?

HOA. What's all to thee ? nothing, nothing ;
such is the gulf of thy desire and the wolf of thy
conscience : but be assured, old Pecuniusu Lucre,
if ever fortune so bless me, that I may be at leisure
to vex thee, or any means so favour me, that I
may have opportunity to mad thee, I will pursue it
with that flame of hate, that spirit of malice, un-
repressed wrath, that I will blast thy comforts.

Luc. Ha, ha, ha !

LAM. Nay, master Hoard, you're a wise gentle
man

HOA. I will so cross thee

Luc. And I thee.

HOA. So without mercy fret thee

Luc. So monstrously oppose thee

HOA. Dost scoff at my just anger? O, that I
had as much power as usury has over thee !

Luc. Then thou wouldst have as much power as
the devil has over thee.

HOA. Toad!

Luc. Aspic !

HOA. Serpent !

Luc. Viper !

u Pecunius] Though the word here is not printed with a
capital letter in the old eds., we learn from a subsequent
scene that it is the Christian name of Lucre.

16 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

SPI. Nay, gentlemen, then we must divide you
perforce.

LAM. When the fire grows too unreasonable hot,
there's no better way than to take off the wood.

[Exeunt LAMPREY and SPICHCOCK, drawing off
LUCRE and HOARD different ways : manentv
FREEDOM and MONEYLOVE.

FREE. A word, good signior.

MON. How now, what's the news ?

FREE. Tis given me to understand that you are
a rival of mine in the love of mistress Joyce, master
Hoard's niece : say me ay, say me no ?

MON. Yes, 'tis so.

FREE. Then look to yourself, you cannot live
long : I'm practising every morning ; a month
hence I'll challenge you.

MON. Give me your hand upon't ; there's my
pledge I'll meet you. [Strikes him, and exit.

FREE. O, O ! what reason had you for that, sir,
to strike before the month ? you knew I was not
ready for you, and that made you so crank :w I am
not such a coward to strike again, I warrant you.
My ear has the law of her side, for it burns
horribly. I will te^ach him to strike a naked face,
the longest day of his life : 'slid, it shall cost me
some money but I'll bring this box into the
chancery. [Exit.

v manenf] Old eds. "manet" — which I mention, because
the editor of 1816 makes Freedom and Moneylove enter after
the others have gone out.

w crank] i. e. brisk.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 17

SCENE IV.

Another Street.
Enter WITGOOD and Host.

HOST. Fear you nothing, sir ; I have lodged her
in a house of credit, T warrant you.

WIT. Hast thou the writings ?

HOST. Firm, sir.

WIT. Prithee, stay, and behold two the most
prodigious rascals that ever slipt into the shape of
men ; Dampit, sirrah, and young Gulf his fellow-
caterpillar.

HOST. Dampit ? sure I have heard of that
Dampit ?

WIT. Heard of him ? why, man, he that has lost
both his ears may hear of him ; a famous infamous
trampler of time ; his own phrase. Note him well :
that Dampit, sirrah, he in the uneven beard and
the serge cloak, is the most notorious, usuring,
blasphemous, atheistical, brothel-vomiting rascal,
that we have in these latter times now extant ;
whose first beginning was the stealing of a mastyx
dog from a farmer's house.

HOST. He looked as if he would obey the com
mandment^] well, when he began first with stealing.

WIT. True : the next town he came at, he set
the dogs together by th' ears.

HOST. A sign he should follow the law, by my
faith.

WIT. So it followed, indeed ; and being desti
tute of all fortunes, staked his masty against a
noble,^ and by great fortune his dog had the day:
how he made it up ten shillings, I know not ; but

x masty] i. e. mastiff.

>' a noble] A gold coin worth 6*. Sd.

18 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

his own boast is, that he came to town but with
ten shillings in his purse, and now is credibly worth
ten thousand pound.

HOST. How the devil came he by it ?

Enter DAMPIT and GULF.

WIT. How the devil came he not by it ? If you
put in the devil once, riches come with a ven
geance : has been a trampler of the law,2 sir ; and
the devil has a care of his footmen. The rogue
has spied me now ; he nibbled me finely once,
too: — a pox search you! [Aside."} — O, master
Dampit ! — the very loins of thee ! [_Aside.~} — Cry
you mercy, master Gulf; you walk so low, I pro
mise you I saw you not, sir.

GULF. He that walks low walks safe, the poets
tell us.

WIT. And nigher hell by a foot and a half than
the rest of his fellows. — [Aside.

But, my old Harry !

DAM. My sweet Theodorus !

WIT. 'Twas a merry world when thou earnest to
town with ten shillings in thy purse.

1 trampler of the law] Taylor, the water-poet, begins the
account of " A Corrupted Lawyer, and a Knauish Vnder-
shriue," with the following lines ;

" A hall, a hall, the tramplers are at hand,
A shifting Master, and as sweetly man'd ;
His Buckram-bearer, one that knowes his ku,
Can write with one hand and receiue with two.
The trampler is in hast, O cleere the way,
Takes fees with both hands cause he cannot stay,
No matter wheth'r the cause be right or wrong,
So hee be payd for letting out his tongue."

A Brood of Cormorants, p. 13 ; Workes, 1630.
In Brome's Sparagus Garden, 1640 (acted 1635), one of the
characters is a lawyer named Trampler.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 19

DAM. And now worth ten thousand pound, my
boy. Report it ; Harry Dampit, a trampler of
time, say, he would be up in a morning, and be
here with his serge gown, dashed up to the hams
in a cause ; have his feet stink about Westminster
Hall, and come home again ; see the galleons, the
galleasses,a the great armadas of the law ; then
there be hoys and petty vessels, oars and scullers
of the time ; there be picklocks of the time too ;
then would I be here ; I would trample up and
down like a mule : now to the judges, May it
please your reverend honourable fatherhoods ; then to
my counsellor, May it please your worshipful pa
tience ; then to the examiner's office, May it please
your mastership's gentleness; then to one of the
clerks, May it please your worshipful lousiness, — for
I find him scrubbing in his cod-piece ; then to the
hall again, then to the chamber again

WIT. And when to the cellar again ?

DAM. E'en when thou wilt again : tramplers of
time, motions of Fleet Street, and visions of Hoi-
born ;b here I have fees of one, there I have fees
of another ; my clients come about me, the foolia-
miny and coxcombry of the country : I still trashed0

* galleasses} Large, heavy, low-built vessels : see Steevens's
note on Shakespeare's Taming of a Shrew, act ii. sc. 1.

b motions of Fleet Street, and visions of Holborn] The editor
of 1816 says that he " knows not exactly what these visions
were :" nor do I : they are evidently used here as a cant
term, like the words with which they are coupled — tramplers
(see note in the preceding page), and motions (i. e. puppet-
shows, puppets : see note, vol. i. p. 229.)

c trashed} The following passage of The Puritan, " a guarded
lackey to run before it [a coach], and pied liveries to come
trashing after it," act iv. sc. 1, which is cited here by the
editor of 1816, is given by Todd in his additions to Johnson's
Diet, as an example of trash in the sense of — to follow with
bustle, to tramp about with fatigue ; and such seems to be
the meaning of the word in our text.

20 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

and trotted for other men's causes ; thus was poor
Harry Dampit made rich by others' laziness, who,
though they would not follow their own suits, I
made 'em follow me with their purses.

WIT. Didst thou so, old Harry ?

DAM. Ay, and I soused 'em with bills of charges,
i'faith ; twenty pound a - year have I brought in
for boat-hire, and I ne'er stept into boat in my
life.

WIT. Tramplers of time !

DAM. Ay, tramplers of time, rascals of time,
bull -beggars !d

Wit. Ah, thou'rt a mad old Harry ! — Kind master
Gulf, I am bold to renew my acquaintance.

GULF. I embrace it, sir. [Exeunt.

ACT II. SCENE I.

A Room in LUCRE'S House.
Enter LUCRE.

Luc. My adversary evermore twits me with my
nephew, forsooth, my nephew : why may not a
virtuous uncle have a dissolute nephew ? What
though he be a brotheller, a wastethrift, a common
surfeiter, and, to conclude, a beggar, must sin in
him call up shame in me ? Since we have no part
in their follies, why should we have part in their
infamies? For my strict hand toward his mort
gage, that I deny not : I confess I had an uncle's
pen'worth ; let me see, half in half, true : I saw
neither hope of his reclaiming, nor comfort in his
being ; and was it not then better bestowed upon

d bull-beggars] i. e. hobgoblins — a word of uncertain de
rivation.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 21

his uncle than upon one of his aunts ? — I need not
say bawd, for every one knows what aunt stands
for in the last translation.

Enter Servant.
Now, sir ?

SER. There's a country serving-man, sir, attends
to speak with your worship.

Luc. I'm at best leisure now ; send him in to
me. [Exit Servant.

Enter Host disguised as a serving-man.

HOST. Bless your venerable worship.

Luc. Welcome, good fellow.

HOST. He calls me thief6 at first sight, yet he
little thinks I am an host. [Aside.

Luc. What's thy business with me ?

HOST. Faith, sir, I am sent from my mistress,
to any sufficient gentleman indeed, to ask advice
upon a doubtful point : 'tis indifferent, sir, to whom
I come, for I know none, nor did my mistress di
rect me to any particular man, for she's as mere a
stranger here as myself; only I found your worship
within, and 'tis a thing I ever loved, sir, to be de
spatched as soon as I can.

Luc. A good, blunt honesty ; I like him well.
[Aside.~] — What is thy mistress ?

HOST. Faith, a country gentlewoman, and a
widow, sir. Yesterday was the first flight of us ;
but now she intends to stay till a little term busi
ness be ended.

Luc. Her name, I prithee ?

HOST. It runs there in the writings, sir, among
her lands ; widow Medler.

e he calls me thief] Because good fellow was one of the cant
terms for a thief.

22 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

Luc. Medler ? mass, have I ne'er heard of that
widow ?

HOST. Yes, I warrant you, have you, sir : not
the rich widow in Staffordshire ?

Luc. Cuds me, there 'tis indeed ; thou hast put
me into memory : there's a widow indeed ! ah, that
I were a bachelor again !

HOST. No doubt your worship might do much
then ; but she's fairly promised to a bachelor
already.

Luc. Ah, what is he, I prithee ?

HOST. A country gentleman too ; one whom
your worship knows not, I'm sure ; has spent
some few follies in his youth, but marriage, by my
faith, begins to call him home : my mistress loves
him, sir, and love covers faults, you know : one
master Witgood, if ever you have heard of the
gentleman.

Luc. Ha ! Witgood, sayst thou ?

HOST. That's his name indeed, sir ; my mistress
is like to bring him to a goodly seat yonder ; four
hundred a-year, by my faith.

Luc. But, I pray, take me with you.s

HOST. Ay, sir.

Luc. What countryman might this young Wit-
good be ?

HOST. A Leicestershire gentleman, sir.

Luc. My nephew, by th' mass, my nephew ! I'll
fetch out more of this, i'faith : a simple country
fellow, I'll work't out of him. \_Aside.~] — And is that
gentleman, sayst thou, presently to marry her ?

HOST. Faith, he brought her up to town, sir ;
has the best card in all the bunch for't, her heart ;
and I know my mistress will be married ere she

£ take me with you\ i. e. let me understand you.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 23

go down ; nay, I'll swear that, for she's none of
those widows that will go down first, and be mar
ried after ; she hates that, I can tell you, sir.

Luc. By my faith, sir, she is like to have a
proper gentleman, and a comely ; I'll give her
that gift.

HOST. Why, does your worship know him, sir ?

Luc. I know him ? does not all the world know
him ? can a man of such exquisite qualities be hid
under a bushel ?

HOST. Then your worship may save me a la
bour, for I had charge given me to inquire after
him.

Luc. Inquire of him ? If I might counsel thee,
thou shouldst ne'er trouble thyself further ; in
quire of him of no more but of me ; I'll fit thee.
I grant he has been youthful ; but is he not now
reclaimed ? mark you that, sir : has not your mis
tress, think you, been wanton in her youth ? if
men be wags, are there not women wagtails ?

HOST. No doubt, sir.

Luc. Does not he return wisest that comes home
whipt with his own follies ?

HOST. Why, very true, sir.

Luc. The worst report you can hear of him, I
can tell you, is that he has been a kind gentleman,
a liberal, and a worthy : who but lusty Witgood,
thrice-noble Witgood !

HOST. Since your worship has so much know
ledge in him, can you resolveh me, sir, what his
living might be ? my duty binds me, sir, to have
a care of my mistress' estate ; she has been ever
a good mistress to me, though I say it : many
wealthy suitors has she nonsuited for his sake;

h resolve"] i. e. satisfactorily inform.

24 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE,

yet though her love be so fixed, a man cannot tell
whether his non-performance may help to remove
it, sir : he makes us believe he has lands and
living.

Luc. Who, young master Witgood ? why, be
lieve it, he has as goodly a fine living out yonder,
— what do you call the place ?

HOST. Nay, I know not, i'faith.

Luc. Hum — see, like a beast, if I have not
forgot the name — pooh ! and out yonder again,
goodly grown woods and fair meadows : pax1 on't,
I can ne'er hit of that place neither : he ? why,
he's Witgood of Witgood Hall ; he, an unknown
thing !

HOST. Is he so, sir ? To see how rumour will
alter ! trust me, sir, we heard once he had no
lands, but all lay mortgaged to an uncle he has
in town here.

Luc. Push,J 'tis a tale, 'tis a tale.

HOST. I can assure you, sir, 'twas credibly re
ported to my mistress.

Luc. Why, do you think, i'faith, he was ever so
simple to mortgage his lands to his uncle ? or his
uncle so unnatural to take the extremity of such a
mortgage ?

HOST. That was my saying still, sir.

Luc. Pooh, ne'er think it.

HOST. Yet that report goes current.

Luc. Nay, then you urge me :
Cannot I tell that best that am his uncle ?

HOST. How, sir ? what have I done !

1 pax] For pox, — perhaps an affected mode of pronouncing
the word : it occurs frequently in Middleton. See my note
on Webster's Works, vol. iii. p. 195.

J Push] See note, vol. i. p. 29.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 25

Luc. Why, how now ! in a swoon, man ?

HOST. Is your worship his uncle, sir ?

Luc. Can that be any harm to you, sir ?

HOST. I do beseech you, sir, do me the favour
to conceal it : what a beast was I to utter so
much ! pray, sir, do me the kindness to keep it
in ; I shall have my coat pulled o'er my ears, an't
should be known ; for the truth is, an't please
your worship, to prevent much rumour and many
suitors, they intend to be married very suddenly
and privately.

Luc. And dost thou think it stands with my
judgment to do them injury? must I needs say the
knowledge of this marriage comes from thee ? am
I a fool at fifty-four ? do I lack subtlety now, that
have got all my wealth by it ? There's a leash of
angelsj for thee : come, let me woo thee speak
where lie they?

HOST. So I might have no anger, sir

Luc. Passion of me, not a jot : prithee, come.

HOST. I would not have it known, sir,k it came
by my means.

Luc. Why, am I a man of wisdom ?

HOST. I dare trust your worship, sir ; but I'm
a stranger to your house ; and to avoid all intelli
gencers, I desire your worship's ear.

Luc. This fellow's worth a matter of trust.
\_Aside.~] — Come, sir. [Host whispers to hlm.~] Why,
now thou'rt an honest lad. — Ah, sirrah, nephew !

HOST. Please you, sir, now I have begun with
your worship, when shall I attend for your advice
upon that doubtful point ? I must come warily
now.

J angels] See note, vol. i. p. 250.
k sir] So ed. 1616. Not in first ed.
VOL. II. D

26 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

Luc. Tut, fear thou nothing ;
To-morrow's evening shall resolve the doubt.

HOST. The time shall cause my attendance.

Luc. Fare thee well. [Exit Host.]— There's
more true honesty in such a country serving-man
than in a hundred of our cloak companions :l I
may well call 'em companions, for since blue coats
have been turned into cloaks,™ we can scarce know
the man from the master. — George !

Enter GEORGE.

GEO. Anon, sir.

Luc. List hither : [whispers] keep the place
secret : commend me to my nephew ; I know no
cause, tell him, but he might see his uncle.

GEO. I will, sir.

Luc. And, do you hear, sir ?
Take heed you use him with respect and duty.

GEO. Here's a strange alteration ; one day he
must be turned out like a beggar, and now he must
be called in like a knight. [Aside, and exit.

Luc. Ah, sirrah, that rich widow ! — four hun
dred a-year ! beside, I hear she lays claim to a
title of a hundred more. This falls unhappily that
he should bear a grudge to me now, being likely
to prove so rich : what is't, trow,n that he makes
me a stranger for ? Hum, — I hope he has not so
much wit to apprehend that I cozened him: he

1 companions] i. e. scurvy fellows, — in which sense the word
was often used.

m blue coats have been turned into cloaks'] Every reader of
our early dramas is aware that blue was the colour usually
worn by servants : from the present passage it appears that
their coats had been recently exchanged for cloaks, like those
which gentlemen then wore.

n trow~\ i. e. think you.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 27

deceives me then. Good heaven, who would have
thought it would ever have come to this pass ! yet
he's a proper gentleman, i'faith, give him his due,
marry, that's his mortgage ; but that I ne'er mean
to give him : I'll make him rich enough in words,
if that be good ; and if it come to a piece of money,
I will not greatly stick for't ; there may be hope
some of the widow's lands, too, may one day fall
upon me, if things be carried wisely.

Re-enter GEORGE.

Now, sir, where is he ?

GEO. He desires your worship to hold him
excused ; he has such weighty business, it com
mands him wholly from all men.

Luc. Were those my nephew's words ?

GEO. Yes, indeed, sir.

Luc. When men grow rich, they grow proud too,
I perceive that ; he would not have sent me such
an answer once within this twelvemonth : see what
'tis when a man's come to his lands ! [Aside.'] —
Return to him again, sir ; tell him his uncle desires
his company for an hour ; I'll trouble him but an
hour, say ; 'tis for his own good, tell him : and,
do you hear, sir ? put worship upon him : go to, do
as I bid you ; he's like to be a gentleman of wor
ship very shortly.

GEO. This is good sport, i'faith. [Aside, and exit.

Luc. Troth, he uses his uncle discourteously
now : can he tell what I may do for him ? good
ness may come from me in a minute, that comes
not in seven year again : he knows my humour ;
I am not so usually good ; 'tis no small thing that
draws kindness from me, he may know that and0

0 and] i. e. if.

28 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

he will. The chief cause that invites me to do him
most good, is the sudden astonishing of old Hoard,
my adversary : how pale his malice will look at
my nephew's advancement ! with what a dejected
spirit he will behold his fortunes, whom but last
day he proclaimed rioter, penurious makeshift,
despised brothel-master IP Ha, ha ! 'twill do me
more secret joy than my last purchase, more pre
cious comfort than all these widow's revenues.

Re-enter GEORGE, shewing in WITGOOD.

Now, sir?

GEO. With much entreaty he's at length come,
sir. [Exit.

Luc. O, nephew, let me salute you, sir ! you're
welcome, nephew.

WIT. Uncle, I thank you.

Luc. You've a fault, nephew ; you're a stranger

here:
Well, heaven give you joy !

WIT. Of what, sir ?

Luc. Hah, we can hear !

You might have known your uncle's house, i'faith,
You and your widow : go to, you were to blame ;
If I may tell you so without offence.

WIT. How could you hear of that, sir ?

Luc. O, pardon me !

'Twas<i your will to have kept itr from me, I per
ceive now.

WIT. Not for any defect of love, I protest, uncle.

Luc. O, 'twas unkindness, nephew ! fie, fie, fie.

WIT. I am sorry you take it in that sense, sir.

Luc. Pooh, you cannot colour it, i'faith, nephew.

p brothel-master~\ See note, p. 5.

i 'Twos'] Old eds. " It was."

* kept it] So ed. 1616. First ed. " it kept."

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 29

WIT. Will you but hear what I can say in my
just excuse, sir?

Luc. Yes, faith, will I, and welcome.

WIT. You that know my danger i' th' city, sir,
so well, how great my debts are, and how extreme
my creditors, could not out of your pure judgment,
sir, have wished us hither.

Luc. Mass, a firm reason indeed.

WIT. Else, my uncle's house ! why, 't had been
the only make-match.

Luc. Nay, and thy credit.

WIT. My credit ? nay, my countenance : push,r
nay, I know, uncle, you would have wrought it so
by your wit, you would have made her believe in
time the whole house had been mine.

Luc. Ay, and most of the goods too.

WIT. La, you there ! well, let 'em all prate what
they will, there's nothing like the bringing of a
widow to one's uncle's house.

Luc. Nay, let nephews be ruled as they list,
they shall find their uncle's house the most natural
place when all's done.

WIT. There they may be bold.

Luc. Life, they may do any thing there, man,
and fear neither beadle nor somner :s an uncle's
house ! a very Cole-Harbour.* Sirrah, I'll touch
thee near now : hast thou so much interest in thy
widow, that by a token thou couldst presently send
for her ?

WIT. Troth, I think I can, uncle.

Luc. Go to, let me see that.

WIT. Pray, command one of your men hither,
uncle.

r pusti] See note, vol. i. p. 29.

* somner} — sumner, summoner — i. e. apparitor.

* Cole- Harbour'] See note on act iv. sc. 1.

30 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

Luc. George !

Re-enter GEORGE.

GEO. Here, sir.

Luc. Attend my nephew. [WITGOOD whispers
to GEORGE, who then goes out.~\ — I love a' lifeu to
prattle with a rich widow ; 'tis pretty, methinks,
when our tongues go together: and then to pro
mise much and perform little ; I love that sport a'
life, i'faith : yet I am in the mood now to do my
nephew some good, if he take me handsomely.
\_Aslde.~\ — What, have you despatched ?

WIT. I ha' sent, sir.

Luc. Yet I must condemn you of unkindness,
nephew.

WIT. Heaven forbid, uncle !

Luc. Yes, faith, must I. Say your debts be
many, your creditors importunate, yet the kindness
of a thing is all, nephew : you might have sent me
close word on't, without the least danger or pre
judice to your fortunes.

WIT. Troth, I confess it, uncle ; I was to blame
there ; but, indeed, my intent was to have clapped
it up suddenly, and so have broke forth like a joy
to my friends, and a wonder to the world : beside,
there's a trifle of a forty pound matter toward the
setting of me forth ; my friends should ne'er have
known on't ; I meant to make shift for that my
self.

Luc. How, nephew? let me not hear such a
word again, I beseech you : shall I be beholdingv
to you ?

WIT. To me ? Alas, what do you mean, uncle ?

« a' life'} See note, vol. i. p. 272.
v beholding] See note, vol. i. p. 441.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 31

Luc. I charge you, upon my love, you trouble
nobody but myself.

WIT. You've no reason for that, uncle.

Luc. Troth, I'll ne'er be friends with you while
you live, andw you do.

WIT. Nay, and you say so, uncle, here's my
hand ; I will not do't.

Luc. Why, well said ! there's some hope in thee
when thou wilt be ruled ; I'll make it up fifty,
faith, because I see thee so reclaimed. Peace ;
here comes my wife with Sam, her t'other hus
band's son.

Enter MISTRESS LUCRE and FREEDOM.

WIT. Good aunt.

FREE. Cousin Witgood, I rejoice in my salute ;
you're most welcome to this noble city, governed
with the sword in the scabbard.

WIT. And the wit in the pommel. \_Aside.~] —
Good master Sam Freedom, I return the salute.

Luc. By the mass, she's coming, wife ; let me
see now how thou wilt entertain her.

Mis. L. I hope I am not to learn, sir, to enter
tain a widow ; 'tis not so long ago since I was one
myself.

Enter Courtesan.

WIT. Uncle

Luc. She's come indeed.

WIT. My uncle was desirous to see you, widow,
and I presumed to invite you.

COURT. The presumption was nothing, master
Witgood : is this your uncle, sir ?

Luc. Marry am I, sweet widow ; and his good
uncle he shall find me ; ay, by this smack that I

w and'} i. e. if.

32 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

give thee [kisses her], thou'rt welcome. — Wife, bid
the widow welcome the same way again.

FREE. I am a gentleman now too by my father's
occupation, and I see no reason but I may kiss a
widow by my father's copy : truly, I think the
charter is not against it ; surely these are the
words, The son once a gentleman may revel it, though
his father were a dauber; 'tis about the fifteenth
page : I'll to her.

[Aside, then offers to kiss the Courtesan, who
repulses him,

Luc. You're not very busy now ; a word with
thee, sweet widow.

FREE. Coads-nigs ! I was never so disgraced
since the hour my mother whipt me.

Luc. Beside, I have no child of mine own to
care for ; she's my second wife, old, past bearing :
clap sure to him, widow ; he's like to be my heir,
I can tell you.

COURT. Is he so, sir ?

Luc. He knows it already, and the knave's
proud on't : jolly rich widows have been offered
him here i' th' city, great merchants' wives ; and
do you think he would once look upon 'em? for
sooth, he'll none : you are beholding" to him i' th'
country, then, ere we could be: nay, I'll hold a
wager, widow, if he were once known to be in
town, he would be presently sought after ; nay,
and happy were they that could catch him first.

COURT. I think so.

Luc. O, there would be such running to and
fro, widow ! he should not pass the streets for 'em :
he'd be took up in one great house or other pre
sently : faugh ! they know he has it, and must

1 beholding} See note, vol. i. p. 441.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 33

have it. You see this house here, widow ; this
house and all comes to him ; goodly rooms, ready
furnished, ceiled with plaster of Paris, and all
hung about? with cloth of arras. — Nephew.

WIT. Sir.

Luc. Shew the widow your house ; carry her
into all the rooms, and bid her welcome. — You
shall see, widow. — Nephew, strike all sure above
andz thou beest a good boy, — ah !

\_Aside to WITGOOD.

WIT. Alas, sir, I know not how she would take it !

Luc. The right way, I warrant t'ye : a pox, art
an ass? would I were in thy stead! get you up,
I am ashamed of you. \_Exeunt WITGOOD and Cour
tesan]. So : let 'em agree as they will now : many
a match has been struck up in my house a' this
fashion : let 'em try all manner of ways, still there's
nothing like an uncle's house to strike the stroke
in. I'll hold my wife in talk a little. — Now, Jenny,
your son there goes a-wooing to a poor gentle
woman but of a thousand [pound] portion : see my
nephew, a lad of less hope, strikes at four hundred
a-year in good rubbish.

Mis. L. Well, we must do as we may, sir.

Luc. I'll have his money ready told for him
again a he come down: let me see, too; — by th'
mass, I must present the widow with some jewel, a
good piece ofb plate, or such a device ; 'twill hearten
her on well : I have a very fair standing cup ; and
a good high standing cup will please a widow above
all other pieces. [Exit.

Mis. L. Do you mock us with your nephew ? — I
have a plot in my head, son ; — i'faith, husband, to
cross you.

y about] So ed. 1616. First ed. " above." * and] i. e. if.
a again] i. e. against. b of] So ed. 1616. First ed. "a."

34 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

FREE. Is it a tragedy plot, or a comedy plot,
good mother ?

Mis. L. Tis a plot shall vex him. I charge
you, of my blessing, son Sam, that you presently
withdraw the action of your love from master
Hoard's niece.

FREE. How, mother?

Mis. L. Nay, I have a plot in my head, i'faith.
Here, take this chain of gold, and this fair dia
mond : dog me the widow home to her lodging,
and at thy best opportunity fasten 'em both upon
her. Nay, I have a reach : I can tell you thou art
known what thou art, son, among the right wor
shipful, all the twelve companies.

FREE. Truly, I thank 'em for it.

Mis. L. He ? he's a scab to thee : and so certify
her thou hast two hundred a-year of thyself, be
side thy good parts — a proper person and a lovely.
If I were a widow, I could find in my heart to have
thee myself, son ; ay, from 'em all.

FREE. Thank you for your good will, mother ;
but, indeed, I had rather have a stranger : and if I
woo her not in that violent fashion, that I will
make her be glad to take these gifts ere I leave
her, let me never be called the heir of your hody.

Mis. L. Nay, I know there's enough in you, son,
if you once come to put it forth.

FREE. I'll quickly make a bolt or a shaft on't.c

{Exeunt.

c make a bolt or a shaft on't'] "This is a proverbial ex
pression, and is enumerated by Ray in his Collection of Pro
verbial Phrases. The meaning is, that he would immediately
try his fortune with the widow, and either be rejected or
accepted. The same expression is used by Slender in the
Merry Wives of Windsor, act. iii. sc. 4. See notes on the pas
sage." Editor of 1816.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 35

SCENE IT.

A Street.
Enter HOARD and MONEYLOVE.

MON. Faith, master Hoard, I have bestowed
many months in the suit of your niece, such was
the dear love I ever bore to her virtues : but since
she hath so extremely denied me, I am to lay out
for my fortunes elsewhere.

HOA. Heaven forbid but you should, sir ! I ever
told you my niece stood otherwise affected.

MON. I must confess you did, sir ; yet, in regard
of my great loss of time, and the zeal with which
I sought your niece, shall I desire one favour of
your worship ?

HOA. In regard of those two, 'tis hard but you
shall, sir.

MON. I shall rest grateful : 'tis not full three
hours, sir, since the happy rumour of a rich
country widow came to my hearing.

HOA. How ? a rich country widow ?

MON. Four hundred a-year landed.

HOA. Yea?

MON. Most firm, sir ; and I have learnt her
lodging : here my suit begins, sir ; if I might but
entreat your worship to be a countenance for me,
and speak a good word (for your words will pass),
I nothing doubt but I might set fair for the widow ;
nor shall your labour, sir, end altogether in thanks ;
two hundred angelsd

HOA. So, so : what suitors has she ?

MON. There lies the comfort, sir ; the report of
her is yet but a whisper ; and only solicited by

d angels] See note, vol. i. p. 250.

36 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

young riotous Witgood, nephew to your mortal
adversary.

HOA. Ha! art certain he's her suitor?

MON. Most certain, sir ; and his uncle very in
dustrious to beguile the widow, and make up the
match.

HOA. So : very good.

MON. Now, sir, you know this young Witgood
is a spendthrift, dissolute fellow.

HOA. A very rascal.

MON. A midnight surfeiter.

HOA. The spume of a brothel-house.

MON. True, sir : which being well told in your
worship's phrase, may both heave him out of her
mind, and drive a fair way for me to the widow's
affections.

HOA. Attend me about five.

MON. With my best care, sir. [Exit.

HOA. Fool, thou hast left thy treasure with a

thief,

To trust a widower with a suit in love !
Happy revenge, I hug thee ! I have not only the
means laid before me, extremely to cross my ad
versary, and confound the last hopes of his nephew,
but thereby to enrich my state, augment my re
venues, and build mine own fortunes greater :
ha, ha !

I'll mar your phrase, o'erturn your flatteries,
Undo your windings, policies, and plots,
Fall like a secret and despatchful plague
On your secured comforts. Why, I am able
To buy three of Lucre ; thrice outbid him,
Let my out-monies be reckoned and all.

Enter Three of WITGOOD'S Creditors.
FIRST C. I am glad of this news.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 37

SEC. C. So are we, by my faith.

THIRD C. Young Witgood will be a gallant again
now.

HOA. Peace. [Listening.

FIRST C. I promise you, master Cockpit, she's a
mighty rich widow.

SEC. C. Why, have you ever heard of her ?

FIRST C. Who ? widow Medler ? she lies open to
much rumour.

THIRD C. Four hundred a -year, they say, in
very good land.

FIRST C. Nay, take't of my word, if you believe
that, you believe the least.

SEC. C. And to see how close he keeps it !

FIRST C. O, sir, there's policy in that, to prevent
better suitors.

THIRD C. He owes me a hundred pound, and I
protest I ne'er looked for a penny.

FIRST C. He little dreams of our coming ; he'll
wonder to see his creditors upon him.

[Exeunt Creditors.

HOA. Good, his creditors : I'll follow. This

makes for me :

All know the widow's wealth ; and 'tis well known
1 can estate her fairly, ay, and will.
In this one chance shines a twice happy fate ;
I both deject my foe and raise my state. [Exit,

VOL. II.

38 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

ACT III. SCENE I.

WITGOOD'S Lodging.
Enter WITGOOD and Three Creditors.

WIT. Why, alas, my creditors, could you find no
other time to undo me but now ? rather your malice
appears in this than the justness of the debt.

FIRST C. Master Witgood, I have forborne my
money long.

WIT. I pray, speak low, sir : what do you
mean ?

SEC. C. We hear you are to be married suddenly
to a rich country widow.

WIT. What can be kept so close but you cre
ditors hear on't ! well, 'tis a lamentable state, that
our chiefest afflictors should first hear of our for
tunes. Why, this is no good course, i'faith, sirs :
if ever you have hope to be satisfied, why do you
seek to confound the means that should work it ?
there's neither piety, no, nor policy in that. Shine
favourably now : why, I may rise and spread again,
to your great comforts.

FIRST C. He says true, i'faith.

WIT. Remove mee now, and I consume for ever.

SEC. C. Sweet gentleman !

WIT. How can it thrive which from the sun you
sever ?

THIRD. C. It cannot, indeed.

WIT. O, then, shew patience ! I shall have

enough
To satisfy you all.

e Remove me, &c.] " This and the next speech of Witgood's
form a couplet, and are, I am inclined to think, a quotation."
Editor of 1816.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 39

FIRST C. Ay, if we could
Be content, a shame take us !

WIT. For, look you ;
I am but newly sure yet tof the widow,
And what a rend might this discredit make !
Within these three days will I bind you lands
For your securities.

FIRST C. No, good master Witgood :
Would 'twere as much as we dare trust you with !

WIT. I know you have been kind ; however,

now,

Either by wrong report, or false incitement,
Your gentleness is injured : in such
A state as this a man cannot want foes.
If on the sudden he begin to rise,
No man that lives can count his enemies.
You had some intelligence, I warrant ye,
From an ill-wilier.

SEC. C. Faith, we heard you brought up a rich
widow, sir, and were suddenly to marry her.

WIT. Ay, why there it was : I knew 'twas so :
but since you are so well resolved^ of my faith to
ward you, let me be so much favoured of you, I
beseech you all --

ALL. O, it shall not need, i'faith, sir !

f sure yet to] Compare Brome :

" RA. Who do you think

Has married fair Mistris Millicent ?
Di. Theophilus (I can name him, though his father
Was fatal unto mine) was sure to her."

The English Moor, p. 3.— Five New Playes, 1659.

" ER. Then you are sure to her.
MAT. No, I never us'd

A marriage-question, nor a wooing word," &c.

The New Academy, p. 19. ibid.
f resolved] i. e. convinced, satisfied.

40 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

WIT. As to lie still awhile, and bury my debts
in silence, till I be fully possessed of the widow ;
for the truth is — I may tell you as my friends —

ALL. O, O, O ! —

WIT. I am to raise a little money in the city,
toward the setting forth of myself, for mine own
credit and your comfort ; now, if my former debts
should be divulged, all hope of my proceedings
were quite extinguished.

FIRST C. Do you hear, sir ? I may deserve your
custom hereafter ; pray, let my money be accepted
before a stranger's : here's forty pound I received
as I came to you ; if that may stand you in any
stead, make use on't. [Offers him money) which
he at Jirsl declines.~\ Nay, pray, sir ; 'tis at your
service. [Aside to WITGOOD.

WIT. You do so ravish me with kindness, that
I ams constrain'd to play the maid, and take it.

FIRST C. Let none of them see it, I beseech
you.

WIT. Faugh!

FIRST C. 1 hope I shall be first in your remem
brance
After the marriage rites.

WIT. Believe it firmly.

FIRST C. So. — What, do you walk, sirs ?

SEC. C. I go. — Take no care, sir, for money to
furnish you ; within this hour I'll send you suffi
cient. \_Aside to WITGOOD.] — Come, master Cock
pit, we both stay for you.

THIRD C. I ha' lost a ring, i'faith ; I'll follow
you presently : [exeunt First and Second Creditors']
— but you shall find it, sir ; I know your youth
and expenses have disfurnished you of all jewels :

* lam] Old eds. "I'm."

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 41

there's a ruby of twenty pound price, sir ; bestow
it upon your widow. [Offers him the ring, which
he at first declines.^ — What, man ! 'twill call up her
blood to you ; beside, if I might so much work
with you, I would not have you beholding11 to
those bloodsuckers for any money.

WIT. Not I, believe it.

THIRD C. They're a brace of cut-throats.

WIT. I know 'em.

THIRD C. Send a note of all your wants to my
shop, and I'll supply you instantly.

WIT. Say you so ? why, here's my hand then,
no man living shall do't but thyself.

THIRD C. Shall I carry it away from 'em both,
then ?

WIT. Ffaith, shalt thou.

THIRD C. Troth, then, I thank you, sir.

WIT. Welcome, good master Cockpit. [Exit
Third Creditor.^ — Ha, ha, ha! why, is not this
better now than lying a-bed ? I perceive there's
nothing conjures up wit sooner than poverty, and
nothing lays it down sooner than wealth and
lechery : this has some savour yet. O that I had
the mortgage from mine uncle as sure in possession
as these trifles ! I would forswear brothel at noon
day, and muscadine and eggs at midnight.

COURT, [within] Master Witgood, where are you ?

WIT. Holla!

Enter Courtesan.

COURT. Rich news !

WIT. Would 'twere all in plate !

COURT. There's some in chains and jewels : I
am so haunted with suitors, master Witgood, I
know not which to despatch first.

h beholding] See note, vol. i. p. 441.

42 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

WIT. You have the better term,1 by my faith.

COURT. Among the number
One master Hoard, an ancient gentleman.

WIT. Upon my life, my uncle's adversary.

COURT. It may well hold so, for he rails on you,
Speaks shamefully of him.

WIT. As I could wish it.

COURT. I first denied him, but so cunningly,
It rather promis'd him assured hopes,
Than any loss of labour.

WIT. Excellent !

COURT. I expect him every hour with gentlemen,
With whom he labours to make good his words,
To approve you riotous, your state consum'd,
Your uncle

WIT. Wench, make up thy own fortunes now ;
do thyself a good turn once in thy days : he's rich
in money, movables, and lands ; marry him : he's
an old doating fool, and that's worth all ; marry
him : 'twould be a great comfort to me to see thee
do well, i'faith ; marry him : 'twould ease my con
science well to see thee well bestowed ; I have a
care of thee, i'faith.

COURT. Thanks, sweet master Witgood.

WIT. I reach at farther happiness : first, I am
sure it can be no harm to thee, and there may
happen goodness to me by it : prosecute it well ;
let's send up for our wits, now we require their
best and most pregnant assistance.

COURT. Step in, I think I hear 'em. [Exeunt.

1 the better term] " Ladies of easy virtue were, in the time
of our poet, frequently called termers, from their visiting the
city when the courts of justice were open, and the inns of
court filled with young lawyers : to this, I conceive, Witgood
alludes." Editor of 1816. — Witgood seems to use the word
term with a playful allusion to the double meaning of suitors.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 43

Enter HOARD and Gentlemen, with the Host as
Servant.

HOA. Art thou the widow's man ? by my faith,
sh'as a company of proper men then.

HOST. I am the worst of six, sir ; good enough
for blue coats.J

HOA. Hark hither : I hear say thou art in most
credit with her.

HOST. Not so, sir.

HOA. Come, come, thou'rt modest : there's a
brace of royals ;k prithee, help me to th' speech
of her. [Gives him money.

HOST. I'll do what I may, sir, always saving
myself harmless.

HOA. Go to, do't, I say ; thou shalt hear better
from me.

HOST. Is not this a better place than five mark
a-year standing wages ? Say a man had but three
such clients in a day, methinks he might make a
poor living on't ; beside, I was never brought up
with so little honesty to refuse any man's money ;
never : what gulls there are a' this side the world !
now know I the widow's mind ; none but my young
master comes in her clutches : ha, ha, ha !

[Aside, and exit.

HOA. Now, my dear gentlemen, stand firmly to

me ;
You know his follies and my worth.

FIRST G. We do, sir.

SEC. G. But, master Hoard, are you sure he is
not i' th' house now ?

HOA. Upon my honesty, I chose this time

j blue coats] See note, p. 26.

k royals} See note, vol. i. p. 345.

44 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

A' purpose, fit : the spendthrift is abroad :
Assist me ; here she comes.

Enter Courtesan.

Now, my sweet widow.

COURT. You're welcome, master Hoard.

HOA. Despatch, sweet gentlemen, despatch.—
I am come, widow, to prove those my words
Neither of envy sprung nor of false tongues,
But such as theirk deserts and actions
Do merit and bring forth ; all which these gentlemen,
Well known,, and better reputed, will confess.

COURT. I cannot tell
How my affections may dispose of me ;
But surely if they find him so desertless,
They'll have that reason to withdraw themselves :
And therefore, gentlemen, I do entreat you,
As you are fair in reputation
And in appearing form, so shine in truth :
I am a widow, and, alas, you know,
Soon overthrown ! 'tis a very small thing
That we withstand, our weakness is so great :
Be partial unto neither, but deliver,
Without affection, your opinion.

HOA. And that will drive it home.

COURT. Nay, I beseech your silence, master

Hoard ;
You are a party.

HOA. Widow, not a word.

FIRST G. The better first to work you to belief,
Know neither of us owe him flattery,
Nor t'other malice ; but unbribed censure,1
So help us our best fortunes !m

k their'] i. e. Witgood's and his uncle's.

1 censure} i. e. opinion, judgment.

m So help us our best fortunes'] " The declaration of this gen-

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 45

COURT. It suffices.

FIRST G. That Witgood is a riotous, undone

man,

Imperfect both in fame and in estate,
His debts wealthier than he, and executions
In wait for his due body, we'll maintain
With our best credit and our dearest blood.

COURT. Nor land nor living, say you ? Pray,

take heed
You do not wrong the gentleman.

FIRST G. What we speak
Our lives and means are ready to make good.

COURT. Alas, how soon are we poor souls be-
guil'd !

SEC. G. And for his uncle

HOA. Let that come to me.
His uncle['s] a severe extortioner ;
A tyrant at a forfeiture ; greedy of others'
Miseries ; one that would undo his brother,
Nay, swallow up his father, if he can,
Within the fathoms of his conscience.

FIRST G. Nay, believe it, widow,
You had not only match'd yourself to wants,
But in an evil and unnatural stock.

HOA. Follow hard, gentlemen, follow hard.

{Aside to Gent.

COURT. Is my love so deceiv'd ? Before you all
I do renounce him ; on my knees I vow [Kneeling.
He ne'er shall marry me.

WIT. [looking in] Heaven knows he never meant
it ! [Aside.

HOA. There, take her at the bound.

[Aside to Gent.

tleman somewhat resembles the oath taken by grand jurymen
respecting their presentations, and was probably formed on
that model." Editor of 1816.

46 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

FIRST G. Then, with a new and pure affection
Behold yon gentleman ; grave, kind, and rich,
A match worthy yourself: esteeming him,
You do regard your state.

HOA. I'll make her a jointure, say.

[Aside to Gent.

FIRST G. He can join land to land, and will

possess you
Of what you can desire.

SEC. G. Come, widow, come.

COURT. The world is so deceitful !

FIRST G. There 'tis deceitful,
Where flattery, want, and imperfection lie ;m
But none of these in him : push !n

COURT. Pray, sir

FIRST G. Come, you widows are ever most back
ward when you should do yourselves most good ;
but were it to marry a chin not worth a hair now,
then you would be forward enough. Come, clap
hands, a match.

HOA. With all my heart, widow. [HOARD and
Courtesan shake hands.~\ — Thanks, gentlemen :
I will deserve your labour, and [to Courtesan] thy
love.

COURT. Alas, you love not widows but for wealth !
I promise you I ha' nothing, sir.

HOA. Well said, widow,
Well said ; thy love is all I seek, before
These gentlemen.

COURT. Now I must hope the best.

HOA. My joys are such they want to be ex-
press'd.

COURT. But, master Hoard, one thing I must

ra lie] Old eds. " lies."

n push] See note, vol. i. p. 29.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 47

remember you of, before these gentlemen, your
friends : how shall I suddenly avoid the loathed
soliciting of that perjured Witgood, and his tedious,
dissembling uncle ? who this very day hath ap
pointed a meeting for the same purpose too ;
where, had not truth come forth, I had been
undone, utterly undone !

HOA. What think you of that, gentlemen ?

FIRST G. 'Twas well devised.

HOA. Hark thee, widow : train out young Wit-
good single ; hasten him thither with thee, some
what before the hour; where, at the place appointed,
these gentlemen and myself will wait the oppor
tunity, when, by some slight0 removing him from
thee, we'll suddenly enter and surprise thee, carry
thee away by boat to Cole-Harbour,P have a priest
ready, and there clap it up instantly. How likest
it, widow ?

COURT. In that it pleaseth you, it likes** me well.

HOA. I'll kiss thee for those words. [Kisses

her.~] — Come, gentlemen,
Still must I live a suitor to your favours,
Still to your aid beholding.1"

FIRST G. We're engag'd, sir ;
'Tis for our credits now to see't well ended.

HOA. 'Tis for your honours, gentlemen ; nay,

look to't.

Not only in joy, but I in wealth excel :
No more sweet widow, but, sweet wife, farewell.

COURT. Farewell, sir.

[Exeunt HOARD and Gentlemen.

0 slight] See note, vol. i. p. 441.

P Cole- Harbour] See note on act iv. sc. 1.

1 likes] i. e. pleases.

r Beholding] See note, vol. i. p. 441.

48 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

Re-enter WITGOOD.

WIT. O for more scope ! I could laugh eter
nally ! Give you joy, mistress Hoard, I promise
your fortune was good, forsooth ; you've fell upon
wealth enough, and there's young gentlemen enow
can help you to the rest. Now it requires our
wits : carry thyself but needfully now, and we are

both-

Re-enter Host.

HOST. Master Witgood, your uncle.
WIT. Cuds me ! remove thyself awhile ; I'll
serve for him. [Exeunt Courtesan and Host.

Enter LUCRE.

Luc. Nephew, good morrow, nephew.

WIT. The same to you, kind uncle.

Luc. How fares the widow ? does the meeting
hold?

WIT. O, no question of that, sir.

Luc. I'll strike the stroke, then, for thee ; no
more days.8

WIT. The sooner the better, uncle. O, she's
mightily followed !

Luc. And yet so little rumoured !

WIT. Mightily : here comes one old gentleman,
and he'll make her a jointure of three hundred a-
year, forsooth ; another wealthy suitor will estate
his son in his lifetime, and make him weigh down
the widow ; here a merchant's son will possess
her with no less than three goodly lordships at
once, which were all pawns to his father.

Luc. Peace, nephew, let me hear no more of

• days] Altered by the editor of 1816 to " delays :" but I
believe the old text is right. So in act iv. sc. 5, Dampit says of
one who owed him money, " he comes to have a longer day"

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 49

'em ; it mads me. Thou shalt prevent* 'em all.
No words to the widow of my coming hither. Let
me see — 'tis now upon nine : before twelve, ne
phew, we will have the bargain struck, we will,
faith, boy.

WIT. O, my precious uncle ! [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A Room in HOARD'S House.
Enter HOARD and JOYCE.

HOA. Niece, sweet niece, prithee, have a care to
my house ; I leave all to thy discretion. Be con
tent to dream awhile ; I'll have a husband for thee
shortly : put that care upon me, wench, for in
choosing wives and husbands I am only fortunate ;
I have that gift given me. [Exit.

JOY. But 'tis not likely you should choose for

me,

Since nephew to your chiefest enemy
Is he whom I affect : but, O, forgetful !
Why dost thou flatter thy affections so,
With name of him that for a widow's bed
Neglects thy purer love ? Can it be so,
Or does report dissemble ?

Enter GEORGE.

How now, sir ?

GEO. A letter, with which came a private charge.
JOY. Therein I thank your care. [Exit GEORGE.]

— I know this hand —

[Reads'] Dearer than sight, what the world reports of
me, yet believe not ; rumour will alter shortly : be

* prevent] i. e. anticipate.
VOL. II. F

50 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

thou constant ; I am still the same that I mas in love,
and I hope to be the same in fortunes.

THEODORUS WITGOOD.

I am resolv'd :u no more shall fear or doubt
Raise their pale powers to keep affection out.

[Exit.

SCENE III.

A Tavern.
Enter HOARD, Gentlemen? and Drawer.

DRA. You're very welcome, gentlemen. — Dick,
shew those gentlemen the Pomegranate there.

HOA. Hist !

DRA. Up those stairs, gentlemen.

HOA. Hist, drawer !

DRA. Anon, sir.

HOA. Prithee, ask at the bar if a gentlewoman
came not in lately.

DRA. William, at the bar, did you see any gen
tlewoman come in lately ? Speak you ay, speak
you no.

[WithinJ] No, none came in yet but mistress
Florence.

DRA. He says none came in yet, sir, but one
mistress Florence.

HOA. What is that Florence ? a widow ?

DRA. Yes, a Dutch widow.w

u resolv'd'} See note, p. 39.

v Gentlemen] As Lamprey and Spichcock appear afterwards
with Hoard at Cole-Harbour, they ought perhaps to be with
him on the present occasion. I suspect, indeed, that some of
the speeches given here, and in a former scene, to Gentlemen,
belong, properly, to these two worthies.

w a Dutch widow} A cant term, sufficiently explained by
what follows.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 51

HOA. How?

DRA. That's an English drab, sir : give your
worship good morrow. [Exit.

HOA. A merry knave, i'faith ! I shall remember
a Dutch widow the longest day of my life.

FIRST G. Did not I use most art to win the
widow ?

SEC. G. You shall pardon me for that, sir ; mas
ter Hoard knows I took her at best 'vantage.

HOA. What's that, sweet gentlemen, what's that ?

SEC. G. He will needs bear me down, that his
art only wrought with the widow most.

HOA. O, you did both well, gentlemen, you did
both well, I thank you.

FIRST G. I was the first that moved her.

HOA. You were, i'faith.

SEC. G. But it was I that took her at the bound.

HOA. Ay, that was you : faith, gentlemen, 'tis
right.

THIRD G. I boasted least, but 'twas I join'd
their hands.

HOA. By th' mass, I think he did : you did all

well,
Gentlemen, you did all well ; contend no more.

FIRST G. Come, yon room's fittest.

HOA. True, 'tis next the door. [Exeunt.

Enter WITGOOD, Courtesan, Host, and Drawer.

DRA. You're very welcome : please you to walk
up stairs ; cloth's laid, sir.

COURT. Up stairs ? troth, I am veryx weary,
master Witgood.

WIT. Rest yourself here awhile, widow ; we'll
have a cup of muscadine in this little room.

x very] So ed. 1616. Not in first ed.

52 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

DRA. A cup of muscadine ? You shall have the
best, sir.

WIT. But, do you hear, sirrah ?

DRA. Do you call ? anon, sir.

WIT. What is there provided for dinner ?

DRA. I cannot readily tell you, sir : if you
please you may go into the kitchen and see your
self, sir ; many gentlemen of worship do use to do
it, I assure you, sir. [Exit.

HOST. A pretty familiar, prigging* rascal; he
has his part without book.

WIT. Against you are ready to drink to me,
widow, I'll be present to pledge you.

COURT. Nay, I commend your care, 'tis done
well of you. [Exit WITGOOD.] — 'Las,y what have
I forgot !

HOST. What, mistress ?

COURT. I slipt my wedding-ring off when I
washed, and left it at my lodging : prithee, run ; I
shall be sad without it. [Exit Host.'] — So, he's
gone. Boy.

Enter Boy.

BOY. Anon, forsooth.

COURT. Come hither, sirrah ; learn secretly if
one master Hoard, an ancient gentleman, be about
house.

BOY. I heard such a one named.

COURT. Commend me to him.

x prigging'] "Prig, in the cant language of that age, meant
thief, or pickpocket. It is found in Shakespeare, and Beau
mont and Fletcher." Editor of 1816. — Prigging is used in
this passage merely as a jocular term of reproach.

y 'Las'] Old eds. " asse," — the initial letter having dropt out
in the first ed. '

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 53

Re-enter HOARD and Gentlemen.

HOA. Ay, boy,z do thy commendations.

COURT. O, you come well : away, to boat, be
gone.

HOA. Thus wise men are reveng'd, give two for
one. [Exeunt.

Re-enter WITGOOD and Vintner.

WIT. I must request
You, sir, to shew extraordinary care :
My uncle comes with gentlemen, his friends,
And 'tis upon a making.*

VIN. Is it so ?

I'll give a special charge, good master Witgood.
May I be bold to see her ?

WIT. Who? [t]he widow?
With all my heart, i'faith, I'll bring you to her.

VIN. If she be a Staffordshire gentlewoman, 'tis
much if I know her not.

WIT. How now ? boy ! drawer !

VIN. Hie!

Re-enter Boy.

BOY. Do you call, sir ?

WIT. Went the gentlewoman up that was here ?

BOY. Up, sir ? she went out, sir.

WIT. Out, sir ?

BOY. Out, sir : one master Hoard, with a guard
of gentlemen, carried her out at back door, a pretty
while since, sir.

WIT. Hoard ? death and darkness ! Hoard ?

* Ay, boy'] Old eds. " I bee."

a making] i. e. matching : in our early writers make is often
used for mate.

54 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

Re-enter Host.

HOST. The devil of ring I can find.
WIT. How now ? what news ? where's the wi
dow ?

HOST. My mistress ? is she not here, sir ?

WIT. More madness yet !

HOST. She sent me for a ring.

WIT. A plot, a plot! — To boat! she's stole

away.
HOST. What?

Enter LUCRE and Gentlemen.

WIT. Follow ! inquire old Hoard, my uncle's
adversary. [Exit Host.

Luc. Nephew, what's that ?

WIT. Thrice-miserable wretch !

Luc. Why, what's the matter ?

VIN. The widow's borne away, sir.

Luc. Ha? passion of me ! — A heavy welcome,
gentlemen.

FIRST G. The widow gone ?

Luc. Who durst attempt it ?

WIT. Who but old Hoard, my uncle's adversary ?

Luc. How !

WIT. With his confederates.

Luc. Hoard, my deadly enemy? — Gentlemen,

stand to me,

I will not bear it ; 'tis in hate of me ;
That villain seeks my shame, nay, thirsts my

blood ;

He owes me mortal malice.
I'll spend my wealth on this despiteful plot,
Ere he shall cross me and my nephew thus.

WIT. So maliciously !

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 55

Re-enter Host.

Luc. How now, you treacherous rascal ?

HOST. That's none of my name, sir.

WIT. Poor soul, he knew not on't !

Luc. I'm sorry. I see then 'twas a mere plot.

HOST. I trac'd 'em nearly —

Luc.b Well?

HOST. And hear for certain
They have took Cole-Harbour. c

Luc. The devil's sanctuary !

They shall not rest ; I'll pluck her from his arms. —
Kind and dear gentlemen,
If ever I had seat within your breasts

FIRST G. No more, good sir ; it is a wrong to us
To see you injur'd : in a cause so just
We'll spend our lives but we will right our friends.

Luc. Honest and kind ! come, we'ved delay'd

too long :
Nephew, take comfort ; a just cause is strong.

WIT. That's all my comfort, uncle. [Exeunt all

but WITGOOD.] Ha, ha, ha !
Now may events fall luckily and well :
He that ne'er strives, says wit, shall ne'er excel.

[Exit.

SCENE IV.

A Room in DAMPIT'S House.
Enter DAMPIT, drunk.

DAM. When did I say my prayers ? In anno
88, when the great armada was coming ; and in
anno 89,e when the great thundering and lightning

b Luc.~] Ed. 1616, " Wit."

c Cole- Harbour'} See note on act iv. sc. 1.

d we've] Old eds. " we have."

e anno 89] " Both the quartos read ' 99 ;' but Stow does

56 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

was, I prayed heartily then, i'faith,, to overthrow
Poovies' new buildings ; I kneeled by my great
iron chest, I remember.

Enter AUDREY.

AUD. Master Dampit, one may hear you before
they see you : you keep sweet hours, master Dam-
pit ; we were all a-bed three hours ago.

DAM. Audrey?

AUD. O, you're a fine gentleman !

DAM. So I am, i'faith, and a fine scholar : do
you use to go to bed so early, Audrey ?

AUD. Call you this early, master Dampit ?

DAM. Why, is't not one of clock i' th' morning ?
is not that early enough ? fetch me a glass of fresh
beer.

AUD. Here, I have warmed your nightcap for
you, master Dampit.

DAM. Draw it on then. I am very weak truly :
I have not eaten so much as the bulk of an egg
these three days.

AUD. You have drunk the more, master Dampit.

DAM. What's that ?

AUD. You mought, andf you would, master
Dampit.

DAM. I answer you, I cannot : hold your
prating ; you prate too much, and understand
too little : are you answered ? Give me a glass
of beer.

not mention any very great storm in that year, although he
has noticed one or two ; whereas in the year 1589, he observes,
that on ' The 1st August, at night, was the greatest lightning
and thunder that had, at any time, bin scene or heard about
London in the memory of any man living ; and yet, thankes
be given to God, little hurt heard of.' " Editor of 1816.— See
Stow's Annales, p. 757. ed. 1631.
f mought, and] i. e. might, if.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 57

AUD. May I ask you how you do, master
Dampit ?

DAM. How do I ? i'faith, naught.

AUD. I ne'er knew you do otherwise.

DAM. I eat not one pen'north of bread these two
years/ Give me a glass of fresh beer. I am not
sick, nor I am not well.

AUD. Take this warm napkin about your neck,
sir, whilst I help to make you unready .g

DAM. How now, Audrey-prater, with your scurvy
devices, what say you now ?

AUD. What say I, master Dampit ? I say nothing,
but that you are very weak.

DAM. Faith, thou hast more cony-catchingh de
vices than all London.

AUD. Why, master Dampit, I never deceived you
in all my life.

DAM. Why was that? because I never did trust thee.

AUD. I care not what you say, master Dampit.

DAM. Hold thy prating : I answer thee, thou
art a beggar, a quean, and a bawd : are you an
swered ?

AUD. Fie, master Dampit ! a gentleman, and
have such words ?

DAM. Why, thou base drudge of infortunity,
thou kitchen-stuff-drab of beggary, roguery, and
cockscombry, thou cavernesed quean of foolery,
knavery, and bawdreaminy, I'll tell thee what, I
will not give a louse for thy fortunes.

AUD. No, master Dampit ? and there's a gentle
man comes a-wooing to me, and he doubts1 nothing
but that you will get me from him. *

f years'] Qy. " days ?"
8 make you unready"] i. e. undress you.
h cony-catching] See note, vol. i. p. 290.
1 doubts] i. e. fears.

58 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

DAM. I ? If I would either have thee or lie with
thee for two thousand pound, would I might be
damned ! why, thou base, impudent quean of fool
ery, flattery, and coxcombry, are you answered ?

AUD. Come, will you rise and go to bed, sir ?

DAMP. Rise, and go to bed too, Audrey ? How
does mistress Proserpine ?

AUD. Fooh !

DAM. She's as fine a philosopher of a stinkard's
wife, as any within the liberties. Faugh, faugh,
Audrey !

AUD. How now, master Dampit ?

DAM. Fie upon't, what a choice of stinks here
is ! what hast thou done, Audrey ? fie upon't, here's
a choice of stinks indeed ! Give me a glass of fresh
beer, and then I will to bed.

AUD. It waits for you above, sir.

DAM. Foh ! I think they burn horns in Bar
nard's Inn. If ever I smelt such an abominable
stink, usury forsake me. [Exit.

AUD. They be the stinking nails of his tramp
ling feet, and he talks of burning of horns. [Exit.

ACT IV. SCENE I.

An Apartment at Cole-Harbour.1

Enter HOARD, Courtesan, LAMPREY, SPICHCOCK,
and Gentlemen.

FIRST G. Join hearts, join hands,
In wedlock's bands,

1 Cole - Harbour} The stage- direction in the old eds. is
" Enter at Cole-harbour, Hoard, the Widdow, and Gentlemen,
he married now." — Cole-Harbour (a corruption of Cold-Har
bour, or Cold- Harbor ough) was an ancient building, situated

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 59

Never to part

Till death cleave your heart.

[To HOARD] You shall forsake all other women ;

[To Courtesan] You lords, knights, gentlemen, and

yeomen.

What my tongue slips
Make up with your lips.

HOA. [kisses her] Give you joy, mistress Hoard :
let the kiss come about. [Knocking.

Who knocks ? Convey my little pig-eater J out.

Luc. [within] Hoard !

HOA. Upon my life, my adversary, gentlemen !

Luc. [within] Hoard, open the door, or we will

force it ope :
Give us the widow.

HOA. Gentlemen, keep 'em out.

in the parish of All-hallows the Less, in Downgate Ward :
see an account of it in Stow's. Survey, b. ii. p. 206. (vol. i.)
ed. 1720. A good many years before the date of this
play, the then Earl of Shrewsbury took it down, and built a
number of small tenements in its stead, which were let at
great rents, and served as a retreat for debtors, &c. ; the
place being considered a sort of sanctuary, probably because
Tunstall, bishop of Durham, had resided there in Henry
the Eighth's reign. Lodge says, " It was pulled down by
Earl Gilbert, about the year 1600." Illust. of Brit. Hist.
vol. i. p. 9 : but its demolition must have been earlier ; for,
in Nash's Haue with you to Saffron Walden, 1596, we find, " Or
hast thou tooke thee a chamber in Cole-harbour ?" &c. sig. D. 4.
From the present scene, as the editor of 1816 observes in
a note on act ii. sc. 1, " it may be inferred that it was noto
rious as a place where marriages were solemnised hastily
and without the proper forms ; such as the Fleet Prison and
Keith's Chapel were for some time previously to the passing
the marriage -act." He adds, that " the only [other] allu
sion he recollects to it among the dramatic writers of the
time, is in our author's Roaring Girl:" but half-a-dozen
might easily be furnished.

J pig-eater] An odd term of endearment : pigsnie is com
mon enough.

60 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

LAM. He comes upon his death that enters here.

Luc. [within] My friends, assist me !

HOA. He has assistants, gentlemen.

LAM. Tut, nor him nor them we in this action
fear.

Luc. [within] Shall I, in peace, speak one word
with the widow ?

COURT. Husband, and gentlemen, hear me but a
word.

HOA. Freely, sweet wife.

COURT. Let him in peaceably ;
You know we're sure from any act of his.

HOA. Most true.

CouRT.k You may stand by and smile at his old

weakness :
Let me alone to answer him.

HOA. Content;

'Twill be good mirth, i'faith. How think you,
gentlemen ?

LAM. Good gullery !

HOA. Upon calm conditions let him in.

Luc. [within] All spite and malice !

LAM. Hear me, master Lucre :
So you will vow a peaceful entrance
With those your friends, and only exercise
Calm conference with the widow, without fury,
The passage shall receive you.

Luc. [within] I do vow it.

LAM. Then enter and talk freely : here she
stands.

Enter LUCRE, Gentlemen^ and Host.
Luc. O, master Hoard, your spite has watch'd

the hour !
You're excellent at vengeance, master Hoard.

k Court.] Old eds. " Luc."

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 61

HOA. Ha, ha, ha !

Luc. I am the fool you laugh at :
You are wise, sir, and know the seasons well. —
Come hither, widow : why is it thus ?
O, you have done me infinite disgrace,
And your own credit no small injury !
Suffer mine enemy so despitefully
To bear you from my nephew ? O, I had
Rather half my substance had been forfeit
And begg'd by some starv'd rascal !

COURT. Why, what would you wish me do, sir ?
I must not overthrow my state for love :
We have too many precedents for that ;
From thousands of our wealthy undone widows
One may derive some wit. I do confess
I lov'd your nephew, nay, I did affect him
Against the mind and liking of my friends ;*
Believ'd his promises ; lay here in hope
Of flatter'd living, and the boast of lands :
Coming to touch his wealth and state, indeed,
It appears dross ; I find him not the man ;
Imperfect, mean, scarce furnish'd of his needs ;
In words, fair lordships ; in performance, hovels :
Can any woman love the thing that is not ?

Luc. Broke you for this ?

COURT. Was it not cause too much ?
Send to inquire his state : most part of it
Lay two years mortgag'd in his uncle's hands.

Luc. Why, say it did, you might have known

my mind :
I could have soon restor'd it.

COURT. Ay, had I but seen any such thing per
form' d,
Why, 'twould have tied my affection, and contain'd

1 friends'] So ed. 1616. First ed. " friend."
VOL. II. G

62 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

Me in my first desires : do you think, i'faith,
That I could twine such a dry oak as this,
Had promise in your nephew took effect ?

Luc. Why, and there's no time past ; and rather

than

My adversary should thus thwart my hopes,
T would

COURT. Tut, you've been ever full of golden

speech :
If words were lands, your nephew would be rich.

Luc. Widow, belie ve't,m I vow by my best bliss,
Before these gentlemen, I will give in
The mortgage to my nephew instantly,
Before I sleep or eat.

FIRST G. [friend » to LUCRE] We'll pawn our

credits,

Widow, what he speaks shall be perform'd
In fulness.

Luc. Nay, more ; I will estate him
In farther blessings ; he shall be my heir ;
I have no son ;H
I'll bind myself to that condition.

COURT. When I shall hear this done, I shall

soon yield
To reasonable terms.

Luc. In the mean season,
Will you protest, before these gentlemen,
To keep yourself as you're0 now at this present ?

COURT. I do protest, before these gentlemen,
I will be as clear then as I am now.

m believe' t] Old eds. " believe it."

n / have no son, &c.] See what I have said on couplets im
perfect in the first line, notes p. 7 of the present vol., and
p. 424 of vol. i.

0 you're] Old eds. " you are."

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 63

Luc. I do believe you. Here's your own honest

servant,
I'll take him along with me.

COURT. Ay, with all my heart.

Luc. He shall see all perform'd, and bring you
word.

COURT. That's all I wait for.

HOA. What, have you finished, master Lucre ?
ha, ha, ha, ha !

Luc. So laugh, Hoard, laugh at your poor

enemy, do ;

The wind may turn, you may be laugh'd at too ;
Yes, marry may you, sir. — Ha, ha, ha, [ha] !

\_Exeunt LUCRE, Gentlemen, and Host.

HOA. Ha, ha IP if every man that swells in

malice

Could be reveng'd as happily as I,
He would choose hate, and forswear amity. —
What did he say, wife, prithee ?

COURT. Faith, spoke to ease his mind.

HOA. 0,0,0!

COURT. You know now little to any purpose.

HOA. True, true, true !

COURT. He would do mountains now.

HOA. Ay, ay, ay, ay.

LAM. You've struck him dead, master Hoard.

SPI. And'i his nephew desperate.

HOA. I know't, sirs, I.
Never did man so crush his enemy. \_Exeunt.

P Ha, ha /] Old eds. " ha, ha, ha."

i And] So ed. 1616. First ed. " I [ay] and."— The speech
is part of the first line of a couplet."

64 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

SCENE II.

A Room in LUCRE'S House.

Enter LUCRE, Gentlemen, and Host, meeting
FREEDOM.

Luc. My son-in-law, Sam Freedom, where's my
nephew ?

FREE. 0 man in lamentation? father.

Luc. How !

FREE. He thumps his breast like a gallant dicer
that has lost his doublet, and stands in's shirt to do
penance.

Luc. Alas, poor gentleman !

FREE. I warrant you may hear him sigh in a
still evening to your house at Highgate.

Luc. I prithee, send him in.

FREE. Were it to do a greater matter, I will not
stick with you, sir, in regard you married my
mother. [Exit.

Luc. Sweet gentlemen, cheer him up ; I will but
fetch the mortgage and return to you instantly.

FIRST G. We'll do our best, sir. [Exit LUCRE.] —

See where he comes,
E'en joyless and regardless of all form.

Enter WITGOOD.

SEC. G. Why, how now,8 master Witgood ? Fie !
you a firm scholar, and an understanding gentle
man, and give your best parts to passion ?*

r O man in lamentation] In The Old Wives' Tale, " the tune
of 0 man in desperation" is mentioned : see Peele's Works,
vol. i. p. 208 (ed. 1829), and my note there.

* now] So ed. 1616. Not in first ed.

' passion] i. e. sorrow.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 65

FIRST G. Come, fie, fie!u

WIT. O, gentlemen

FIRST G. Sorrow of me, what a sigh was there,

sir !
Nine such widows are not worth it.

WIT. To be borne from me by that lecher

Hoard! .
FIRST G. That vengeance is your uncle's ; being

done

More in despite to him than wrong to you :
But we bring comfort now.

WIT. I beseech you, gentlemen

SEC. G. Cheer thyself, man ; there's hope of

her, i'faith.
WIT. Too gladsome to be true.

Re-enter LUCRE.

Luc. Nephew, what cheer ?
Alas, poor gentleman, how art thou chang'd !
Call thy fresh blood into thy cheeks again :
She comes.

WIT. Nothing afflicts me so much,
But that it is your adversary, uncle,
And merely plotted in despite of you.

Luc. Ay, that's it mads me, spites me ! I'll spend
my wealth ere he shall carry her so, because I
know 'tis only to spite me. Ay, this is it. Here,
nephew [giving a paper], before these kind gentle
men, I deliver in your mortgage, my promise to
the widow ; see, 'tis done : be wise, you're once
more master of your own. The widow shall per
ceive now you are not altogether such a beggar as
the world reputes you ; you can make shift to
bring her to three hundred a-year, sir.

u fie, fie] So ed. 1616. First ed. " fie."

66 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

FIRST G. Byrlady/ and that's no toy,w sir.

Luc. A word, nephew.

FIRST G. [to Host] Now you may certify the
widow.

Luc. You must conceive it aright, nephew, now ;
To do you good I am content to do this.

WIT. I know it, sir.

Luc. But your own conscience can tell I had it
Dearly enough of you.

WIT. Ay, that's most certain.

Luc. Much money laid out, beside many a

journey
To fetch the rent ; I hope you'll think on't, nephew.

WIT. I were worse than a beast else, i'faith.

Luc. Although, to blind the widow and the world,
I out of policy do't, yet there's a conscience, nephew.

WIT. Heaven forbid else !

Luc. When you are full possess'd,
'Tis nothing to return it.

WIT. Alas, a thing quickly done, uncle !

Luc. Well said ! you know I give it you but in
trust.

WIT. Pray, let me understand you rightly, uncle :
You give it me but in trust ?

Luc. No.

WIT. That is, you trust me with it ?

Luc. True, true.

WIT. But if ever I trust you with it again,
Would I might be truss'd upx for my labour !

[Aside.

v Byrlady] A corruption of By our Lady.

w toy] i. e. trifle.

x would I might be truss'd up] Brome has the same poor
play on words :

" when Lodovico

Does not prove trustie, then let me be truss'd."
The Queen and Concubine, p. 106. — Five New Playes, 1659.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 67

Luc. You can all witness, gentlemen ; and you,
sir yeoman ?

HOST. My life for yours, sir, now, I know my
mistress's mind soy well toward your nephew, let
things be in preparation, and I'll train her hither
in most excellent fashion. Exit.

Luc. A good old boy ! — Wife ! Jenny !

Enter MISTRESS LUCRE.

Mis. L. What's the news, sir ?

Luc. The wedding-day's at hand : prithee, sweet
wife, express thy housewifery ; thou'rt a fine cook,
I know't ; thy first husband married thee out of
an alderman's kitchen ; go to, he raised thee for
raising of paste. What ! here's none but friends ;
most of our beginnings must be winked at. — Gen
tlemen, I invite you all to my nephew's wedding
against Thursday morning.

FIRST G. With all our hearts, and we shall joy

to see
Your enemy so mock'd.

Luc. He laugh'd at me, gentlemen ; ha, ha, ha !
{Exeunt all but WITGOOD.

WIT. He has no conscience, faith, would laugh

at them ;

They laugh at one another ;
Who then can be so cruel ? troth, not I ;
I rather pity now, than ought envy :z
I do conceive such joy in mine own happiness,
I have no leisure yet to laugh at their follies.
Thou soul of my estate, I kiss thee !

\_To the mortgage.
I miss life's comfort when I miss thee ;

y so] First ed. " to." Sec. ed. " too."
z envy] i. e. bear ill will.

68 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

O, never will we part agen,a

Until I leave the sight of men !

We'll ne'er trust conscience of our kin,

Since cozenage brings that title in. [Exit.

SCENE III.

A Street.
Enter Three Creditors.

FIRST C. I'll wait these seven hours but I'll see

him caught.

SEC. C. Faith, so will I.
THIRD C. Hang him, prodigal ! he's stript of the

widow.

FIRST C. A' my troth, she's the wiser ; she has
made the happier choice : and I wonder of what
stuff those widows' hearts are made of, that will
marry unfledged boys before comely thrum-chinnedb
gentlemen.

Enter Boy.

BOY. News, news, news !

FIRST C. What, boy ?

BOY. The rioter is caught.

FIRST C. So, so, so, so ! it warms me at the

heart ;

I love a' lifec to see dogs upon men.
O, here he comes.

Enter Sergeants, with WITGOOD in custody.
WIT. My last joy was so great, it took away the

a ageii] So written for the sake of the rhyme : compare
vol. i. p. 416.

b thrum-chinned] i. e. rough - chinned : see note, vol. i.
p. 431.

c a' life] See note, vol. i. p. 272.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 69

sense of all future afflictions. What a day is here
o'ercast ! how soon a black tempest rises !

FIRST C. O, we may speak with you now, sir !
what's become of your rich widow ? I think you
may cast your cap at the widow, may you not,
sir ?

SEC. C. He a rich widow ? who, a prodigal, a
daily rioter, and a nightly vomiter ? he a widow of
account ? he a hole i' th' counter/1

WIT. You do well, my masters, to tyrannise
over misery, to afflict the afflicted : 'tis a custom
you have here amongst you ; I would wish you
never leave it, and I hope you'll do as I bid you.

FIRST C. Come, come, sir, what say you extem
pore now to your bill of a hundred pound ? a sweet
debt for froating6 your doublets.

SEC. C. Here's mine of forty.

THIRD C. Here's mine of fifty.

WIT. Pray, sirs, — you'll give me breath ?

FIRST C. No, sir, we'll keep you out of breath
still ; then we shall be sure you will not run away
from us.

WIT. Will you but hear me speak ?

SEC. C. You shall pardon us for that, sir ; we
know you have too fair a tongue of your own ; you
overcame us too lately, a shame take you ! we are
like to lose all that for want of witnesses : we dealt
in policy then ; always when we strive to be most
politic we prove most coxcombs : non plus ultra

d hole V th' counter] See notes, vol. i. p. 392.

e froating} " May mean freting or adorning with fret
work. But Witgood's vices, according to his own confession
in a former scene, were those of sensuality, and not of foppery ;
and it is possible that this was the demand of the keeper of
some brothel," &c. &c. Editor of 1816. — Perhaps so; but, I
think, froating means here nothing more than dressing up,
repairing.

70 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

I perceive by us, we're not ordained to thrive by
wisdom, and therefore we must be content to be
tradesmen.

WIT. Give me but reasonable time, and I pro
test I'll make you ample satisfaction.

FIRST C. Do you talk of reasonable time to us ?

WIT. Tis true, beasts know no reasonable time.

SEC. C. We must have either money or carcass.

WIT. Alas, what good will my carcass do you ?

THIRD C. O, 'tis a secret delight we have amongst
us ! we that are used to keep birds in cages, have
the heart to keep men in prison, I warrant you.

WIT. I perceive I must crave a little more aid
from my wits : do but make shift for me this once,
and I'll forswear ever to trouble you in the like
fashion hereafter ; I'll have better employment for
you, andf I live. [Aside.] — You'll give me leave,
my masters, to make trial of my friends, and raise
all means I can ?

FIRST C. That's our desire,g sir.

Enter Host.

HOST. Master Witgood.

WIT. O, art thou come ?

HOST. May I speak one word with you in pri
vate, sir ?

WIT. No, by my faith, canst thou ; I am in hell
here, and the devils will not let me come to thee.

FIRST C.h Do you call us devils ? you shall find
us puritans. — Bear him away ; let 'em talk as they
go ; we'll not stand to hear 'em. — Ah, sir, am I a
devil ? I shall think the better of myself as long
as I live : a devil, i'faith ! [Exeunt.

f and] i. e. if. ? desire'} Old eds. " desires."

* First C.] Old eds. « Cit."

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 71

SCENE IV.

A Room in HOARD'S House.
Enter HOARD.

HOA. What a sweet blessing hast thou, master
Hoard, above a multitude ! wilt thou never be
thankful ? how dost thou think to be blest another
time ? or dost thou count this the full measure of
thy happiness ? by my troth, I think thou dost :
not only a wife large in possessions, but spacious
in content ; she's rich, she's young, she's fair, she's
wise : when I wake, I think of her lands — that re
vives me ; when I go to bed, I dream of her beauty
— and that's enough for me : she's worth four hun
dred a -year in her very smock, if a man knew
how to use it. But the journey will be all, in
troth, into the country ; to ride to her lands in
state and order following ; my brother, and other
worshipful gentlemen, whose companies I ha' sent
down for already, to ride along with us in their
goodly decorum beards, their broad velvet cas-
socktf, and chains of gold twice or thrice double ;
against which time I'll entertain some ten men of
mine own into liveries, all of occupations or qua
lities ; I will not keep an idle man about me : the
sight of which will so vex my adversary Lucre —
for we'll pass by his door of purpose, make a little
stand for [the] nonce,1 and have our horses curvet
before the window — certainly he will never endure
it, but run up and hang himself presently.

Enter Servant.

How now, sirrah, what news ? any that offer their
service to me yet ?

1 nonce] i. e. occasion.

72 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

SER. Yes, sir, there are some i' th' hall that
wait for your worship's liking, and desire to be
entertained.

HOA. Are they of occupation ?

SER. They are men fit for your worship, sir.

HOA. Sayest so ? send 'em all in. [Exit Ser
vant.^ — To see ten men ride after me in watched
liveries, with orange-tawny capes,k — 'twill cut his
comb, i'faith.

Enter Tailor, Barber, Perfumer, Falconer, and

Huntsman.
How now ? of what occupation are you, sir ?

TAI. A tailor, an't please your worship.

HOA. A tailor ? O, very good : you shall serve
to make all the liveries. — What are you, sir ?

BAR. A barber, sir.

HOA. A barber ? very needful : you shall shave
all the house, and, if need require, stand for a
reaper i' th' summer time. — You, sir ?

PER. A perfumer.

HOA. I smelt you before : perfumers, of all
men, had need carry themselves uprightly ; for if
they were once knaves, they would be smelt out
quickly. — To you, sir ?

FAL. A falconer, an't please your worship.

HOA. Sa ho, sa ho, sa ho ! — And you, sir ?

HUNT. A huntsman, sir.

HOA. There, boy, there, boy, there, boy ! I am
not so old but I have pleasant days to come. I
promise you, my masters, I take such a good liking
to you, that I entertain you all ; I put you already
into my countenance, and you shall be shortly in

J watchet] i. e. blue : see note, p. 26.

k capes] The editor of 1816 prints " caps" which may be
right.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 73

my livery ; but especially you two, my jolly fal
coner and my bonny huntsman ; we shall have
most need of you at my wife's manor-houses i' th'
country ; there's goodly parks and champion1
grounds for you ; we shall have all our sports
within ourselves ; all the gentlemen a' th' country
shall be beholding1" to us and our pastimes.

FAL. And we'll make your worship admire, sir.

HOA. Sayest thou so ? do but make me admire,
and thou shalt want for nothing. — My tailor.

TAI. Anon, sir.

HOA. Go presently in hand with the liveries.

TAI. I will, sir.

HOA. My barber.

BAR. Here, sir.

HOA. Make 'em all trim fellows, louse 'em well,
— especially my huntsman, — and cut all their beards
of the Polonian fashion. — My perfumer.

PER. Under your nose, sir.

HOA. Cast a better savour upon the knaves, to
take away the scent of my tailor's feet, and my
barber's lotium-water.

PER. It shall be carefully performed, sir.

HOA. But you, my falconer and huntsman, the
welcomest men alive, i'faith !

HUNT. And we'll shew you that, sir, shall de
serve your worship's favour.

HOA. I prithee, shew me that. — Go, you knaves
all, and wash your lungs i' th' buttery, go. [Exeunt
Tailor, Barber, <^c.] — By th' mass, and well re-

1 champion] i. e. champaign.

" These many ruts and furrows in thy cheek
Proves thy old face to he hut champion ground
Till'd with the plough of age."

RANDOLPH'S Hey for Honesty, 1651, p. 36.
m beholding] See note, vol. i. p. 441.
VOL. II. H

74 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

membered ! I'll ask my wife that question. — Wife,
mistress Jane Hoard !

Enter Courtesan, altered in apparel.

COURT. Sir, would you with me ?

HOA. I would but know, sweet wife, which
might stand best to thy liking, to have the wed
ding dinner kept here or i' th' country ?

COURT. Hum : — faith, sir, 'twould like11 me better
here ; here you were married, here let all rites be
ended.

HOA. Could a marquesse0 give a better answer ?
Hoard, bear thy head aloft, thou'st a wife will
advance it.

Enter Host with a letter.

What haste comes here now ? yea, a letter ? some
dreg of my adversary's malice. Come hither ;
what's the news ?

HOST. A thing that concerns my mistress, sir.

[Giving a letter to Courtesan.

HOA. Why then it concerns me, knave.

HOST. Ay, and you, knave, too (cry your wor
ship mercy) : you are both like to come into
trouble, I promise you, sir ; a pre-contract.

HOA. How ? a pre-contract, sayest thou ?

HOST. I fear they have too much proof on't, sir :
old Lucre, he runs mad up and down, and will to
law as fast as he can ; young Witgood laid hold on
by his creditors, he -exclaims upon you a' t'other
side, says you have wrought his undoing by the
injurious detaining of his contract.

HOA. Body a' me !

n like'] See note, p. 47.

0 marquesse] i. e. marchioness.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 75

HOST. He will have utmost satisfaction ;
The law shall give him recompense, he says.

COURT. Alas, his creditors so merciless ! my
state being yet uncertain, I deem it not uncon
scionable to further him. [Aside.

HOST. True, sir.

HOA. Wife, what says that letter ? let me con
strue it.

COURT. Curs'd be my rash and unadvised words !
[Tears the letter and stamps on it.
I'll set my foot upon my tongue,
And tread my inconsiderate grant to dust.

HOA. Wife

HOST. A pretty shift, i'faith ! I commend a
woman when she can make away a letter from her
husband handsomely, and this was cleanly done,
by my troth. [Aside.

COURT. I did, sir ;

Some foolish words I must confess did pass,
Which now litigiously he fastens on me.

HOA. Of what force ? let me examine 'em.

COURT. Too strong, I fear : would I were well
freed of him !

HOA. Shall I compound ?

COURT. No, sir, I'd have it done some nobler

way

Of your side ; I'd have you come off with honour ;
Let baseness keep with them. Why, have you not
The means, sir ? the occasion's ofFer'd you.

HOA. Where ? how, dear wife ?

COURT. He is now caught by his creditors ; the
slave's needy ; his debts petty ; he'll rather bind
himself to all inconveniences than rot in prison :
by this only means you may get a release from
him : 'tis not yet come to his uncle's hearing ;
send speedily for the creditors ; by this time he's

76 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

desperate ; he'll set his hand to any thing : take
order for his debts, or discharge 'em quite : a pax0
on him, let's be rid of a rascal !

HOA. Excellent!

Thou dost astonish me. — Go, run, make haste ;
Bring both the creditors and Witgood hither.

HOST. This will be some revenge yet.

[Aside, and exit.

HOA. In the mean space I'll have a release
drawn. — Within there !

Enter Servant.

SER. Sir?

HOA. Sirrah, come take directions ; go to my
scrivener.

COURT, [aside ; rvhile HOARD gives directions to the
servant] I'm yet like those whose riches lie in dreams,
If I be wak'd, they're false ; such is my fate,
Who venture? deeper than the desperate state.
Though I have sinn'd, yet could I become new,
For where I once vow, I am ever true.

HOA. Away, despatch, on my displeasure quickly.

[Exit Servant.

Happy occasion ! pray heaven he be in the right
vein now to set his hand to't, that nothing alter
him ; grant that all his follies may meet in him at
once, to besot him enough !
I pray for him, i'faith, and here he comes.

Enter WITGOOD and Creditors.

WIT. What would you with me now, my uncle's
spiteful adversary ?

HOA. Nay, I am friends.

WIT. Ay, when your mischief's spent.

0 pax] See note, p. 24.

P venture'] Old eds. " ventures."

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

7

HOA. I heard you were arrested.

WIT. Well, what then ? you will pay none of my
debts, I am sure.

HOA. A wise man cannot tell ;
There may be those conditions 'greed upon
May move me to do much.

WIT. Ay, when ? —

'Tis thou, perjured woman ! (O, no name
Is vildp enough to match thy treachery !)
That art the cause of my confusion.

COURT. Out, you penurious slave !

HOA. Nay, wife, you are too froward ;
Let him alone ; give losers leave to talk.

WIT. Shall I remember thee of another promise
Far stronger than the first ?

COURT. I'd fain know that.

WIT. 'T would call shame to thy cheeks.

COURT. Shame ?

WIT. Hark in your ear. —
Will he come off, think'st thou, and pay my;
debts roundly ?

COURT. Doubt nothing ; there's a release
a -drawing and all, to which you must set
your hand.

WIT. Excellent !

COURT. But methinks, i'faith, you might
have made some shift to discharge this your
self, having in the mortgage, and never have
burdened my conscience with it.

WIT. A' my troth, I could not, for my cre
ditors' cruelties extend to the present.

COURT. No more. —
Why, do your worst for that, I defy you.

WIT. You're impudent ; I'll call up witnesses.

vild] i. e. vile : see note, vol. i. p. 94.

78 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

COURT. Call up thy wits, for thou hast been

devoted
To follies a long time.

HOA. Wife, you're too bitter. —
Master Witgood, and you, my masters, you shall
hear a mild speech come from me now, and this it
is : 't has been my fortune, gentlemen, to have an
extraordinary blessing poured upon me a' late, and
here she stands ; I have wedded her, and bedded
her, and yet she is little the worse : some foolish
words she hath passed to you in the country, and
some peevish^ debts you owe here in the city ; set
the hare's head to the goose -giblet,r release you
her of her words, and I'll release you of your debts,
sir.

WIT. Would you so ? I thank you for that, sir ;
I cannot blame you, i'faith.

HOA. Why, are not debts better than words, sir ?

WIT. Are not words promises, and are not pro
mises debts, sir ?

HoA. He plays at back-racket with me. {Aside.

FIRST C. Come hither, master Witgood, come
hither ; be ruled by fools once.

SEC. C. We are citizens, and know what be-
long[s] to't.

FIRST C. Take hold of his offer : paxs on her,
let her go ; if your debts wrere once discharged, I
would help you to a widow myself worth ten of
her.

q peevish] i. e. foolish, trifling.

r set the hare's head to the goose-giblet} A not uncommon
proverbial expression :

" Since tit for tat (quoth I) on euen hand is set,
Set the hares head agaynst the goose ieblet."

HEYWOOD'S Dialogue, #c., sig. G.— WorJces, ed. 1598.
8 pax~\ See note, p. 24.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 79

THIRD C. Mass, partner, and now you remember
me on't, there's master Mulligrub's sister newly
fallen a widow.

FIRST C. Cuds me, as pat as can be ! there's a
widow left for you ; ten thousand in money, beside
plate, jewels, et cetera : I warrant it a match ; we
can do all in all with her ; prithee, despatch ; we'll
carry thee to her presently.

WIT. My uncle will ne'er endure me when he
shall hear I set my hand to a release.

SEC. C. Hark, I'll tell thee a trick for that : 1
have spent five hundred pound in suits in my
time, I should be wise ; thou'rt now a prisoner ;
make a release ; take't of my word, whatsoever a
man makes as long as he is in durance, 'tis nothing
in law, not thus much. [Snaps his fingers.

WIT. Say you so, sir ?

THIRD C. I have paid for't, I know't.

WIT. Proceed then ; I consent.

THIRD C. Why, well said.

HOA. How now, my masters, what have you
done with him ?

FIRST C. With much ado, sir, we have got him
to consent.

HOA. Ah — a — a ! and what come8 his debts to
now ?

FIRST C. Some eight score odd pounds, sir.

HOA. Naw, naw, naw, naw, naw ! tell me the
second time ; give me a lighter sum ; they are but
desperate debts, you know ; ne'er called in but
upon such an accident ; a poor, needy knave, he
would starve and rot in prison : come, come, you
shall have ten shillings in the pound, and the sum
down roundly.

FIRST C. You must make it a mark,1 sir.

* cornel Old eds. " came." * mark] i. e. 13s. 4rf.

80 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

HOA. Go to then, tell your money in the mean
time ; you shall find little less there. [Giving them
money.'] — Come, master Witgood, you are so un
willing to do yourself good now !

Enter Scrivener.

Welcome, honest scrivener. — Now you shall hear
the release read.

SCRI. [reads'] Be it known to all men, by these pre
sents, that I, Theodorus Witgood, gentleman, sole ne
phew to Pecunius Lucre, having unjustly made title
and claim to one Jane Medler, late widow of Anthony
Medler, and now wife to Walkadine Hoard, in con
sideration of a competent sum of money to discharge
my debts, do for ever hereafter disclaim any title,
right, estate, or interest in or to the said widow, late
in the occupation of the said Anthony Medler, and now
in the occupation of Walkadine Hoard ; as also neither
to lay claim by virtue of any former contract, grant, pro
mise, or demise, to any of her manor[s], manor-houses,
parks, groves, meadow-grounds, arable lands, barns,
stacks, stables, dove-holes, and coney -burrows ; to
gether with all her cattle, money, plate, jewels, bor
ders, chains, bracelets, furnitures, hangings, moveables
or immoveables.* In witness whereof, I the said Theo
dorus Witgood have interchangeably set to my hand
and seal before these presents, the day and date above
written.

WIT. What a precious fortune hast thou slipt
here, like a beast as thou art !

HOA. Come, unwilling heart, come.

WIT. Well, master Hoard, give me the pen ; I

see
Tis vain to quarrel with our destiny.

[Signs the paper.

1 immovealles] So ed. 1616. First ed. " immouerables."

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 81

HOA. O, as vain a thing as can be ! you cannot
commit a greater absurdity, sir. So, so ; give me
that hand now ; before all these presents, I am
friends for ever with thee.

WIT. Troth, and it were pity of my heart now,
if I should bear you any grudge, i'faith.

HOA. Content : I'll send for thy uncle against
the wedding dinner ; we will be friends once again.

WIT. I hope to bring it to pass myself, sir.

HOA. How now ? is't right, my masters ?

FIRST C. 'Tis something wanting, sir ; yet it shall
be sufficient.

HOA. Why, well said ; a good conscience makes
a fine shew now-a-days. Come, my masters, you
shall all taste of my wine ere you depart.

ALL THE CRED. We follow you, sir.

[Exeunt HOARD and Scrivener.

WIT. I'll try these fellows now. [_Aside.~] — A
word, sir : what, will you carry me to that widow
now ?

FIRST C. Why, do you think we were in earnest,
i'faith ? carry you to a rich widow ? we should get
much credit by that : a noted rioter ! a contempt
ible prodigal ! 'twas a trick we have amongst us to
get in our money : fare you well, sir.

\_Exeunt Creditors.

WIT. Farewell, and be hanged, you short pig-
haired, ram-headed rascals ! he that believes in
you shall ne'er be saved, I warrant him. By this
new league I shall have some access* unto my
love.

1 some access} " The quarto of 1616 reads, * some above
access ;' and the niece [Joyce] speaks without a notice of her
having entered : whereas in the first quarto there is a stage-
direction, ' She is above ;' and I suppose the word caught the
printer's eye, and was erroneously introduced into the text."
Editor 0/1816.

82 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

JOYCE appears above.

JOYCE. Master Witgood !

WIT. My life!

JOYCE. Meet me presently ; that note directs you
[throws him a letter^ : I would not be suspected :
our happiness attends us : farewell.

WIT. A word's enough. [Exeunt severally.

SCENE V.

DAMPIT'S Bed-chamber.
DAMPIT in bed ; AUDREY spinning by ; Boy.

AUD. [singing]

Let the usurer cram him, in interest that excel,
There's pits enow to damn him before he comes to hell;
In Holborn some, in Fleet Street some,
Where'er he come there's some, there's some.

DAMP. Trahe, trahito, draw the curtain ; give
me a sip of sack more.

While he drinks, enter LAMPREY and SPICHCOCK.

LAM. Look you ; did not I tell you he lay like
the devil in chains, when he was bound for a
thousand year ?u

SPI. But I thinkv the devil had no steel bed •
staffs ; he goes beyond him for that.

u a thousand year} " Our poet alludes here [very irreve
rently] to a passage in the Revelation of St. John, chap. xx.
ver. 2." Editor of 1816.

v But I think~\ " It is unnecessary to observe there was
something particular about Dampit's bed ; the reader, how
ever, will collect all the information I could give him from
this scene." Editor of 1816.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 83

LAM. Nay, do but mark the conceit of his drink
ing ; one must wipe his mouth for him with a
muckinder,w do you see, sir ?

SPI. Is this the sick trampler ?x why, he is only
bed-rid with drinking.

LAM. True, sir. He spies us.

DAM. What, Sir Tristram ? you come and see a
weak man here, a very weak man.

LAM. If you be weak in body, you should be
strong in prayer, sir.

DAM. O, I have prayed too much, poor man !

LAM. There's a taste of his soul for you !

SPI. Faugh, loathsome !

LAM. I come to borrow a hundred pound of
you, sir.

DAM. Alas, you come at an ill time ! I cannot
spare it, i'faith ; I ha' but two thousand i' th'
house.

AUD. Ha, ha, ha !

DAM. Out, you gernative quean, the mullipood
of villany, the spinner of concupiscency !

Enter SIR LAUNCELOT, and others.

SIR L. Yea, gentlemen, are you here before us ?
how is he now ?

LAM. Faith, the same man still : the tavern bitch
has bit him i' th' head.?

SIR L. We shall have the better sport with him :
peace. — And how cheers master Dampit now ?

DAM. O, my bosom Sir Launcelot, how cheer I !
thy presence is restorative.

w muckinder'] i. e. a handkerchief.
x trampler'] See note, p. 18.

y the tavern bitch, &c.] " One of the many proverbs ex
pressive of inebriety." Editor of 1816,

84 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

SIR L. But I hear a great complaint of you,
master Dampit, among gallants.

DAM. I am glad of that, i'faith : prithee, what ?

SIR L. They say you are waxed proud a' late,
and if a friend visit you in the afternoon, you'll
scarce know him.

DAM. Fie, fie ; proud ? I cannot remember any
such thing : sure I was drunk then.

SIR L. Think you so, sir ?

DAM. There 'twas, i'faith ; nothing but the pride
of the sack ; and so certify 'em. — Fetch sack,
sirrah.

BOY. A vengeance sack you once !

\_Exit, and returns presently with sack.

AUD. Why, master Dampit, if you hold on as
you begin, and lie a little longer, you need not
take care how to dispose your wealth ; you'll make
the vintner your heir.

DAM. Out, you babliaminy, you unfeathered,
cremitoried quean, you cullisance of scabiosity !

AUD. Good words, master Dampit, to speak be
fore a maid and a virgin !

DAM. Hang thy virginity upon the pole of car
nality !

AUD. Sweet terms ! my mistress shall know 'em.

LAM. Note but the misery of this usuring slave :
here he lies, like a noisome dunghill, full of the
poison of his drunken blasphemies ; and they to
whom he bequeaths all, grudge him the very meat
that feeds him, the very pillow that eases him.
Here may a usurer behold his end : what profits it
to be a slave in this world, and a devil i' th' next ?

DAM. Sir Launcelot, let me buss thee, Sir Launce-
lot ; thou art the only friend that I honour and
respect.

SIR L. I thank you for that, master Dampit.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 85

DAM. Farewell, my bosom Sir Launcelot.

SIR L. Gentlemen, anda you love me, let me step
behind you, and one of you fall a-talking of me to
him.

LAM. Content. — Master Dampit

DAM. So, sir.

LAM. Here came Sir Launcelot to see you e'en
now.

DAM. Hang him, rascal !

LAM. Who ? Sir Launcelot ?

DAM. Pythagorical rascal !

LAM. Pythagorical ?

DAM. Ay, he changesb his cloak when he meets
a sergeant.

SIR L. What a rogue's this !

LAM. I wonder you can rail at him, sir ; he
comes in love to see you.

DAM. A louse for his love ! his father was a
comb-maker ; I have no need of his crawling love :
he comes to have longer day,c the superlative
rascal !

SIR L. 'Sfoot, I can no longer endure the rogue !
— Master Dampit, I come to take my leave once
again, sir.

DAM. Who ? my dear and kind Sir Launcelot,

a and'] i. e. if.

b Ay, he changes, &c.] " I scarcely need notice that Dam-
pit's explanation of the name is in allusion to the doctrine of
metempsychosis, first taught by that philosopher." Editor of
1816.

c longer day] " Dampit means to insinuate, I conceive, that
he had borrowed money of him, and only called to postpone
the payment." Editor o/1816. —

" You know this meeting
Was for the creditors to give longer day"
BROME'S City Wit, act i. sc. 1. — Five New Playes, 1653.
VOL. II. I

86 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

the only gentleman of England ? let me hug thee :
farewell, and a thousand.d

LAM. Compos'd of wrongs and slavish flatteries !

SIR L. Nay, gentlemen, he shall shew you more
tricks yet ; I'll give you another taste of him.

LAM. Is't possible ?

SIR L. His memory is upon departing.

DAM. Another cup of sack !

SIR L. Mass, then 'twill be quite gone ! Before
he drink that, tell him there's a country client come
up, and here attends for his learned advice.

LAM. Enough.

DAM. One cup more, and then let the bell toll :
I hope I shall be weak enough by that time. .

LAM. Master Dampit

DAM. Is the sack spouting ?

LAM. Tis coming forward, sir. Here's a country
man, a client of yours, waits for your deep and
profound advice, sir.

DAM. A coxcombry, where is he ? let him ap
proach : set me up a peg higher.

LAM. [to SIR LAUN.] You must draw near, sir.

DAM. Now, good man fooliaminy, what say you
to me now ?

SIR L. Please your good worship, I am a poor
man, sir

DAM. What make you in my chamber then ?

SIR L. I would entreat your worship's device6 in
a just and honest cause, sir.

d farewell, and a thousand] i. e. a thousand times farewell :
see Peele's Works, vol. i. p. 217. ed. 1829, and my note there.

e device'] " For advice ; I suppose it intentional." Editor
o/1816. — Of course it is : so a clown in Randolph's Hey for
Honesty, 1651 ; " He tell you what I do devise you now, this
is my pinion," act i. sc. 1.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 87

DAM. I meddle with no such matters ; I refer
'em to master No-man's office.

SIR L. I had but one house left me in all the
world, sir, which was my father's, my grandfather's,
my great-grandfather's, and now a villain has un
justly wrung me out, and took possession on't.

DAM. Has he such feats ? Thy best course is
to bring thy ejections jirmcE, and in seven year thou
mayst shove him out by the law.

SIR L. Alas, an't please your worship, I have
small friends and less money !

DAM. Hoyday ! this geer will fadge well :f hast
no money ? why, then, my advice is, thou must
set fire a' th' house, and so get him out.

LAM. That will break strife, indeed.

SIR L. I thank your worship for your hot coun
sel, sir. — Altering but my voice a little, you see
he knew me not : you may observe by this, that a
drunkard's memory holds longer in the voice than
in the person. But, gentlemen, shall I shew you a
sight? Behold the little dive-dapper^ of damnation,
Gulf the usurer, for his time worse than t'other.

LAM. What's he comes with him ?

SIR L. Why Hoard, that married lately the
widow Medler.

LAM. O, I cry you mercy, sir.

Enter HOARD and GULF.

HOA. Now, gentlemen visitants, how does master
Dampit ?

SIR L. Faith, here he lies, e'en drawing in, sir,
good canary as fast as he can, sir ; a very weak
creature truly, he is almost past memory.

1 this geer will fadge welf\ i. e. this matter will fit well,
succeed well.

& dive-dapper} i. e. dabchick.

88 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

HOA. Fie, master Dampit ! you lie lazing a-bed
here, and I come to invite you to my wedding-
dinner : up, up, up !

DAM. Who's this ? master Hoard ? who hast
thou married, in the name of foolery ?

HOA. A rich widow.

DAM. A Dutch widow ?h

HOA. A rich widow ; one widow Medler.

DAM. Medler ? she keeps open house.

HOA. She did, I can tell you, in her t'other hus
band's days ; open house for all comers ; horse and
man was welcome, and room enough for 'em all.

DAM. There's too much for thee then ; thou
mayst let out some to thy neighbours.

GULF. What, hung alive in chains ? O spectacle !
bed-staffs of steel ? 0 monstrum horrendum, informe,
ingens, cui lumen ademptum!1 O Dampit, Dampit,
here's a just judgment shewn upon usury, extor
tion, and tramplingJ villany !

SIR L. This [is] excellent, thief rails upon the
thief!

GULF. Is this the end of cut-throat usury, bro-r
thel, and blasphemy ? now mayst thou see what
race a usurer runs.

DAM. Why, thou rogue of universality, do not
I know thee ? thy sound is like the cuckoo, the
Welch ambassador:11 thou cowardly slave, that
offers to fight with a sick man when his weapon's

h a Dutch widow] See note, p. 50.

' Virg. Mn. iii. 658. J trampling'] See note, p. 18.

k Welch ambassador'] " A jocular name for the cuckoo, I
presume from its migrating hither from the west." NARES'S
Gloss, in v. — Perhaps it was so called because

" the note which his hoarse voice doth beare
Is harsh and fatall to the wedded eare."

The Cuckow (by NICCOLS), 1607, sig. A 3.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 89

down ! rail upon me in my naked bed ? why, thou
great Lucifer's little vicar ! I am not so weak but
I know a knave at first sight : thou inconscionable
rascal ! thou that goest upon Middlesex juries, and
wilt make haste to give up thy verdict1 because
thou wilt not lose thy dinner ! Are you answered ?

GULF. An't were not for shame

[Draws his dagger.

DAM. Thou wouldst be hanged then.

LAM. Nay, you must exercise patience, master
Gulf, always in a sick man's chamber.

SIR L. He'll quarrel with none, I warrant you,
but those that are bed-rid.

DAM. Let him come, gentlemen, I am armed :
reach my close-stool hither.

SIR L. Here will be a sweet fray anon ; I'll
leave you, gentlemen.

LAM. Nay, we'll along with you. — Master
Gulf

GULF. Hang him, usuring rascal !

SIR L. Push,m set your strength to his, your wit
to his !

AUD. Pray, gentlemen, depart ; his hour's come
upon him. — Sleep in my bosom, sleep.

SIR L. Nay, we have enough of him, i'faith ;
keep him for the house.
Now make your best :n
For thrice his wealth I would not have his breast.

1 make haste to give up thy verdict, &c.] Did Pope remember
this passage ?

" The hungry judges soon the sentence sign,
And wretches hang, that jurymen may dine."

The Rape of the Lock, iii. 21.
ra Push'] See note, vol. i. p. 29.

n Now make your best] Another couplet, of which the first
line is imperfect : see notes, p. 7 of this vol. and p. 424 of
vol. i.

90 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

GULF. A little thing would make me beat him
now he's asleep.

SIR L. Mass, then 'twill be a pitiful day when
he wakes ! T would be loath to see that day :
come.

GULF. You overrule me, gentlemen, i'faith.

[Exeunt.

ACT V. SCENE I.
A Room in LUCRE'S House.
Enter LUCRE and WITGOOD.

WIT. Nay, uncle, let me prevail with you so

much ;
I'faith, go, now he has invited you.

Luc. I shall have great joy there when he has
borne away the widow !

WIT. Why, la, I thought where I should find
you presently : uncle, a' my troth, 'tis nothing so.

Luc. What's nothing so, sir ? is not he married
to the widow ?

WIT. No, by my troth, is he not, uncle.

Luc. How ?

WIT. Will you have the truth on't ? he is mar
ried to a whore, i'faith.

Luc. I should laugh at that.

WIT. Uncle, let me perish in your favour if you
find it not so ; and that 'tis I that have married
the honest woman.

Luc. Ha ! I'd walk ten mile a' foot to see that,
i'faith.

WIT. And see't you shall, or I'll ne'er see you
again.

Luc. A quean, i'faith ? ha, ha, ha ! [Exeunt.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 91

SCENE II.

A Room in HOARD'S House.

Enter HOARD tasting nine, Host following in a
livery cloak.

HOA. Pup, pup, pup, pup, I like not this wine :
is there never a better tierce in the house ?

HOST. Yes, sir, there are as good tierce[s] in
the house as any are in England.

HOA. Desire your mistress, you knave, to taste
'em all over ; she has better skill.

HOST. Has she so ? the better for her, and the
worse for you. [Aside, and exit.

HOA. Arthur !

Enter ARTHUR.

Is the cupboard of plate set out ?°

ARTH. All's in order, sir. [Exit.

HOA. I am in love with my liveries every time I
think on 'em ; they make a gallant shew, by my
troth. Niece !

Enter JOYCE.

JOYCE. Do you call, sir ?

HOA. Prithee, shew a little diligence, and over
look the knaves a little ; they'll filch and steal to
day, and send whole pasties home to their wives :
andP thou be'st a good niece, do not see me pur
loined.

JOYCE. Fear it not, sir — I have cause : though
the feast be prepared for you, yet it serves fit for
my wedding-dinner too.*! [Aside, and exit.

0 cupboard of plate} i. e. a moveable sideboard, or buffet,
containing the plate.
P and~\ i. e. if.
'» too~\ Qy- was this originally a couplet ?

92 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

Enter LAMPREY and SPICHCOCK.

HOA. Master Lamprey and master Spichcock,
two the most welcome gentlemen alive ! your
fathers and mine were all free a' th' fishmongers.

LAM. They were indeed, sir. You see bold
guests, sir ; soon entreated.

HOA. And that's best, sir.

Enter Servant.

How now, sirrah ?

SER. There's a coach come to th' door, sir.

[Exit.

HOA. My Lady Foxtone, a' my life ! — Mistress
Jane Hoard ! wife ! — Mass, 'tis her ladyship in
deed !

Enter LADY FOXTONE.

Madam, you are welcome to an unfurnished house,
dearth of cheer, scarcity of attendance.

L. Fox. You are pleased to make the worst, sir.

HOA. Wife!

Enter Courtesan.

L. Fox. Is this your bride ?

HOA. Yes, madam. — Salute my Lady Foxtone.

COURT. Please you, madam, awhile to taste the
air in the garden ?

L. Fox. 'Twill please us well.

[Exeunt L. FOXTONE and Courtesan.

HOA. Who would not wed ? the most delicious

life!
No joys are like the comforts of a wife.

LAM. So we bachelors think, that are not troubled
with them.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 93

Re-enter Servant.

SER. Your worship's brother, with other ancient
gentlemen, <i are newly alighted, sir. [Exit.

HOA. Master Onesiphorus Hoard ? why, now our
company begins to come in.

Enter ONESIPHORUS HOARD, LIMBER, and Kix.

My dear and kind brother, welcome, i'faith.

ONES. H. You see we are men at an hour, bro
ther.

HOA. Ay, I'll say that for you, brother ; you
keep as good an hour to come to a feast as any
gentleman in the shire. — What, old master Limber
and master Kix ! do we meet, i'faith, jolly gentle
men ?

LIM. We hope you lack guess,r sir ?

HOA. O, welcome, welcome ! we lack still such
guess as your worships.

ONES. H. Ah, sirrah brother, have you catched
up widow Medler ?

HOA. From 'em all, brother ; and I may tell you
I had mighty enemies, those that stuck sore ; old
Lucre is a sore fox, I can tell you, brother.

ONES. H. Where is she ? I'll go seek her out : I
long to have a smack at her lips.

HOA. And most wishfully, brother, see where
she comes.

Re-enter Courtesan and LADY FOXTONE.

Give her a smack8 now we may hear it all the house
over. [Courtesan and ONES. H. start and turn away.

i other ancient gentlemen} Old eds. " an other ancient gen
tleman :" but see what follows ; and note, p. 9.
r guess] i. e. guests : see note, vol. i. p. 326.
3 smack'} Old eds. " smerck,"

94 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

COURT. O heaven, I am betray'd ! I know that
face.

HOA. Ha, ha, ha ! why, how now ? are you both
ashamed? — Come, gentlemen, we'll look another
way.

ONES. H. Nay, brother, hark you : come, you're
disposed to be merry.

HOA. Why do we meet else, man ?

ONES. H. That's another matter : I was ne'er so
'fraid in my life but that you had been in earnest.

HOA. How mean you, brother ?

ONES. H. You said she was your wife.

HOA. Did I so ? by my troth, and so she is.

ONES. H. By your troth, brother ?

HOA. What reason have I to dissemble with my
friends, brother ? if marriage can make her mine,

she is mine. Why

[ONESIPHORUS HOARD is about to retire.

ONES. H. Troth, I am not well of a sudden : I
must crave pardon, brother ; I came to see you,
but I cannot stay dinner, i'faith.

HOA. I hope you will not serve me so, brother ?

LIM. By your leave, master Hoard

HOA. What now ? what now ? pray, gentlemen :
— you were wont to shew yourselves wise men.

LIM. But you have shewn your folly too much
here.

HOA. How?

Kix. Fie, fie ! a man of your repute and name !
You'll feast your friends, but cloy 'em first with
shame.

HOA. This grows too deep ; pray, let us reach
the sense.

LIM. In your old age doat on a courtesan !

HOA. Ha !

Kix. Marry a strumpet !

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 95

HOA. Gentlemen !
ONES. H. And Witgood's quean !
HOA. O ! nor lands nor living ?
ONES. H. Living !
HOA. [to Courtesan^ Speak.
COURT. Alas, you know, at first, sir,
I told you I had nothing !

HOA. Out, out ! I am cheated ; infinitely coz-

en'd !
LIM. Nay, master Hoard

Enter LUCRE, WITGOOD, and JOYCE.

HOA. A Dutch widow !s a Dutch widow ! a Dutch
widow !

Luc. Why, nephew, shall I trace thee still a

liar?
Wilt make me mad ? is not yon thing the widow ?

WIT. Why, la, you are so hard a' belief, uncle !
by my troth, she's a whore.

Luc. Then thou'rt a knave.

WIT. Negatur argumentum, uncle.

Luc. Probo tibi, nephew : he that knows a woman
to be a quean must needs be a knave ; thou sayst
thou knowest her to be one ; ergo, if she be a
quean, thou'rt a knave.

WIT. Negatur sequela majoris, uncle ; he that
knows a woman to be a quean must needs be a
knave ; I deny that.

HOA. Lucre and Witgood, you're both villains ;
get you out of my house !

Luc. Why, didst not invite me to thy wedding-
dinner ?

WIT. And are not you and I sworn perpetual
friends before witness, sir, and were both drunk
upon't ?

s a Dutch widow] See note, p. 50.

) A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

HOA. Daintily abus'd ! you've put a junt* upon

me

Luc. Ha, ha, ha !

HOA. A common strumpet !

WIT. Nay, now

You wrong her, sir ; if I were she, I'd have
The law on you for that ; I durst depose for her
She ne'er had common use nor common thought.

COURT. Despise me, publish me, I am your wife ;
What shame can I have now but you'll have part ?
If in disgrace you share, I sought not you ;
You pursu'd, nay,u forc'd me ; had I friends would

follow it,
Less than your action has been prov'd a rape.

ONES. H. Brother !

COURT. Nor did I ever boast of lands unto you,
Money, or goods ; I took a plainer course,
And told you true, I'd nothing :
If error were committed, 'twas by you ;
Thank your own folly : nor has my sin been
So odious, but worse has been forgiven ;
Nor am I so deform'd, but I may challenge
The utmost power of any old man's love.
She that tastes not sin before [twenty], twenty to
one but she'll taste it after : most of you old men
are content to marry young virgins, and take that
which follows ; where,v marrying one of us, you
both save a sinner and are quit from a cuckold for
ever :

And more, in brief, let this your best thoughts win,
She that knows sin, knows best how to hate sin.

HOA. Curs'd be all malice ! black are the fruits
of spite,

1 juni] i. e. harlot.

u pursu'd, nay~\ Old eds. "pursued me, nay."

v where'] i. e. whereas.

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 97

And poison first their owners. O, my friends,
I must embrace shame, to be rid of shame !
Conceal'd disgrace prevents a public name.
Ah, Witgood ! ah, Theodorus !

WIT. Alas, sir, I was pricked in conscience to
see her well bestowed, and where could I bestow
her better than upon your pitiful worship? Ex
cepting but myself, I dare swear she's a virgin ;
and now, by marrying your niece, I have banished
myself for ever from her : she's mine aunt now,
by my faith, and there's no meddling with mine
aunt, you know : a sin against my nuncle.v

COURT. Lo, gentlemen, before you all [Kneels.
In true reclaimed form I fall.
Henceforth for ever I defyw
The glances of a sinful eye,x
Waving of fans (which some suppose
Tricks of fancy),? treading of toes,
Wringing of fingers, biting the lip,
The wanton gait, th' alluring trip ;
All secret friends and private meetings,
Close-borne letters and bawds' greetings ;
Feigning excuse to women's labours
When we are sent for to th' next neighbour's ;

v nuncle] With this corruption of the word Shakespeare has
made all readers acquainted.
w defy] i. e. renounce.

The glances of a sinful eye,

Waving of fans,

All secret friends'] Here Middleton recollected
the Palinode which closes Cynthia's Revels :

" From secret friends,

From waving fans, coy glances"

JONSON'S Works, vol. ii. p. 380, ed. Giff.
f fancy"] i. e. love.

VOL. II. K

98 A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

Taking false physic, and ne'er start
To be let blood though sign^ be at heart ;
Removing chambers, shifting beds,
To welcome friends in husbands' steads,
Them to enjoy, and you to marry,
They first serv'd, while you must tarry,
They to spend, and you to gather,
They to get, and you to father :
These, and thousand, thousand more,
New reclaim'd, I now abhor.

Luc. [to WITGOOD] Ah, here's a lesson, rioter,
for you !

WIT. I must confess my follies ; I'll down too :

[Kneels,

And here for ever I disclaim
The cause of youth's undoing, game,
Chiefly dice, those true outlanders,
That shake out beggars, thieves, and panders ;
Soul-wasting surfeits, sinful riots,
Queans' evils, doctors' diets,
Tothecaries' drugs, surgeons' glisters ;
Stabbing of arms2 for a common mistress ;

y sign] The editor of 1816 altered this word to " sin." —
According to the directions for bleeding in old almanacs,
blood was to be taken from particular parts under particular
planets.

" Alen. When is the time to let the weathers blood ?
The forward spring that had such store of grasse,
Hath fild them full of ranke vnwholesome blood,
Which must be purg'd, else when the winter comes,
The rot will leaue me nothing but their skinnes.
Fall. Chil let om blood, but yet it is no time,
Vntill the zygne be gone below the hart."
YARINGTON'S Two Lamentable Tragedies, 1601, sig. H 4.
Stabbing of arms

Dutch flapdragons] Here again (see note,
p. 97) Middleton has an eye to Jonson :

A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE. 99

Riband favours, ribald speeches ;

Dear perfum'd jackets, pennyless breeches ;

Dutch flapdragons, healths in urine ;

Drabs that keep a man too sure in :

I do dejya you all.

Lend-iine each honest hand, for here I rise

A reclaim'd man, loathing the general vice.

HOA. So, so, all friends ! the wedding-dinner

cools :

Who seem most crafty prove ofttimes most fools.

[Exeunt omnes.

" From stabbing of arms, flapdragons."

Works, ibid.

To stab their arms with daggers, and drink off the blood
mixed with wine, to the health of their mistresses, was for
merly a frequent practice among gallants. — For flapdragons,
see note, vol. i. p. 66 : from several passages in our early
dramas, it appears that the Dutch were celebrated for swal
lowing them. — Drinking healths in urine was another and more
disgusting feat of gallantry.
a defy} See note, p. 97.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

The Familie of Love. Acted by the Children of his Maiesties
Reuells.

Lectori.

Sydera iungamus, facito mihi luppiter adsit,
Et tibi Mercurius noster dabit omniafaxo.

At London Printed for John Helmes, and are to be sold in Saint
Dunstans Churchyard in Fleetstreet. 1608. 4to.

Though there is undoubtedly but one edition of this drama,
yet the copies differ slightly in several places ; alterations
having been introduced after part of the impression had been
worked off: a circumstance which will surprise those persons
only who have not been accustomed to collate the 4tos of old
English plays.

The Family of Love was licensed by Sir George Bucke,
12th Oct. 1607 : see Chalmers's Suppl. Apol p. 201.

Concerning the sect which gives the title to the play, the
following notices will be perhaps more than sufficient.

In Brandt's Hist, of the Reform, fyc. in the Low Countries, we
are told, under the year 1555 : " That Family was suspected
of being more addicted to carnal than to spiritual love. Henry
Nicholas, a Westphalian, born at Munster, but who had lived
a great while at Amsterdam, and some time likewise at Emb-
den, was father of this Family. He appeared upon the stage
about the year 1540, stiled himself the deified man, boasted of
great matters, and seemed to exalt himself above the condi
tion of a human creature. He was, as he pretended, greater
than Moses and Christ, because Moses had taught mankind
to hope, Christ to believe, but he to love ; which last being of
more worth than both the former, he was consequently greater
than both those prophets." vol. i. p. 105, ed. 1720.

According to some writers, however, the sect was not
founded by Henry Nicholas, but by David George, an ana
baptist of Delft ; and indeed there seems reason to believe
that the Family of Love grew out of the heresies of George,
with whom Nicholas had been on intimate terms.

" As to his [Nicholas's] pretensions," observes Mosheim,
" they were indeed visionary and chimerical ; for he main
tained that he had a commission from heaven to teach men
that the essence of religion consisted in the feelings of divine
love ; that all other theological tenets, whether they related to
objects of faith or modes of worship, were of no sort of mo
ment ; and consequently that it was a matter of the most

104

perfect indifference what opinions Christians entertained con
cerning the divine nature, provided their hearts burned with
the pure and sacred flame of piety and love. To this, his
main doctrine, Nicholas may have probably added other odd
fancies, as always is the case with those innovators who are
endued with a warm and fruitful imagination : to come, how
ever, at a true notion of the opinions of this enthusiast, it
will be much easier to consult his own writings than to de
pend entirely upon the accounts and refutations of his adver
saries." Eccles. Hist, (by MACLAINE), vol. iv. p. 484.

" Not content," says Fuller, " to confine his errours to his
own country, over he [Nicholas] comes into England, and in
the later end of the reign of Edward the Sixth joyned himself
to the Dutch congregation in London, where he seduced a
number, of artificers and silly women," &c. Church Hist.
b. ix. p. 112, ed. 1655.

" The twelfe of June [1575], stood at Paules Crosse fiue
persons Englishmen, of the sect termed the Familie of Lone,
who there confessed themselues vtterlie to detest as well the
author of that sect H. N. as all his damnable errors and here
sies." HOLINSHED'S Chron. vol. iv. p. 328, ed. 1808.

Towards the end of 1580, the sect was increasing so rapidly
in England, that the government took active measures for its
suppression. " The queenes maiestie being informed that in
sundrie places of this realme, certeine persons secretlie taught
damnable heresies, contrarie to diuers principall articles of
our beleefe and Christian faith, who to colour their sect named
themselues the Familie of Loue, and then as manie as were
allowed by them to be of that familie to be elect and saued,
and all others, of what church soeuer they be, to be reiected
and damned. And for that vpon conuenting of some of them
before the bishops and ordinaries, it was found that the
ground of their sect is mainteined by certeine lewd, hereticall,
and seditious books, first made in the Dutch toong, and lastlie
translated into English, and printed beyond the seas, and
secretlie brought ouer into the realme, the author whereof
they name H. N. &c. And considering also it is found, that
those sectaries held opinion, that they may before anie ma-
gistrat or ecclesiasticall or temporall, or anie other person,
noi being professed to be of their sect, by oth or otherwise
denie anie thing for their aduantage : so as though manie of
them are well knowne to be teachers and spreaders abroad of
these dangerous and damnable sects ; yet by their owne con
fession they cannot be condemned. Therefore hir maiestie
being verie sorie to see so great an euill, by malice of the

105

diuell to be brought into this hir realme, and by hir bishops
and ordinaries she vnderstandeth it verie requisit, not onelie
to haue those dangerous heretiks and sectaries to be seueralie
punished ; but that also other meanes be vsed by hir ma-
iesties roiall authoritie, which is giuen hir of God to defend
Christs church, to root them out from further infecting of hir
realme : she hath thought meet and conuenient, and so by
hir proclamation commandeth, that all hir officers and minis
ters temporal! shall in all their seuerall vocations assist the
bishops of hir realme, and all other person, to search out all
persons dulie suspected to be either teachers or professors of
the foresaid damnable sects, and by all good meanes to pro
ceed seuerelie against them, being found culpable, by order
of the lawes ecclesiasticall or temporall : and that all search
be made in all places suspected, for the books and writings
mainteining the said heresies and sects, and them to destroie
and burne, &c : as more at large may appeere by the said
proclamation, giuen at Richmond the third of October, and
proclamed at London on the nineteenth daie of the same
moneth [1580]." HOLINSHED'S Chron. vol. iv. p. 432, ed. 1808.
See also CAMDENI Annales, p. 318, ed. 1639.

A list of Nicholas's numerous writings may be found in
Lowndes's Bibliographer's Manual. One of them is in verse :
An Enterlude of Myndes : witnessing the Mans Fall from God
and Christ. Set forth by H. N. and by him newly perused and
amended. Translated out of Base-Almayne into English, n. d. :
see an account of, and extracts from it, in Sir E. Brydges's
Restituta, vol. iv. p. 140, sqq. Nicholas is mentioned in the
last scene of The Alchemist, — ^TOfsoN's Works, vol. iv.
p. 187, ed. Giff.

" The Family of Love (or Lust rather)," says Fuller, " at
this time [1604] presented a tedious Petition to King James,
so that it is questionable whether his majesty ever graced it
with his perusall, wherein they endeavoured to cleare them
selves from som^jmi^jnresgnj^itions, and by fawning expres
sion to insinuate^themselves into his majesty's good opinion."
Church Hist. b. x. p. 29, ed. 1655. Having given the docu
ment in question, which is too long for insertion here, Fuller
proceeds : " I finde not what effect this their Petition pro
duced ; whether it was slighted, and the Petitioners looked
upon as inconsiderable, or beheld as a few frantick folk out
of their wits, which consideration alone often melted their
adversaries anger into pity unto them. The main design
driven on in the Petition is to separate themselves from the
Puritans (as persons odious to King James), that they might

106

not fare the worse for their vicinity unto them ; though these
Familists could not be so desirous to leave them as the others
were glad to be left by them. For if their opinions were so
senselesse, and the lives of these Familists so sensuall as is
reported, no purity at all belonged unto them/^prSX From
the Petition just mentioned, we find that " divers" of the
Familists had been lately thrown into prison.

The sect was attacked, at different times, by various writers :
among others by John Rogers, in The Displaying of an horrible
Secte of grosse 8f wicked Heretiques, naming themselues the Fa
mily of Lone, with the Hues of their Authours, 8f what doctrine
they teach in corners. Newly set foorth by J. R. fyc. London,
1579. 12mo.

In The Lady of Pleasure, act i. sc. 1, Shirley has the fol
lowing passage :

" Another game you have, which consumes more
Your fame than purse : your revels in the night,
Your meetings call'd THE BALL, to which repair,
As to the court of pleasure, all your gallants,
And ladies, thither bound by a subpoena
Of Venus, and small Cupid's high displeasure ;
'Tis but the Family of Love translated
Into more costly sin ! There was a PLAY on't,
And had the poet not been brib'd to a modest
Expression of your antic gambols in't,
Some darks had been discover'd, and the deeds too :
In time he may repent, and make some blush,
To see the second part danc'd on the stage."

SHIRLEY'S Works, vol. iv. p. 9.

I have quoted the lines only for the sake of correcting a mis
take of the last editor of Beaumont and Fletcher. In a note
on The Widow, Weber remarks, that Middleton " wrote a play
entitled The Family of Love, but it seems that he was repre
hended for not displaying these sectaries in their true colours.
Thus Shirley in The Lady of Pleasure :

" 'Tis but the Family of Love translated
Into more costly sin ! There was a Play on't," &c.

B. and F.'s Works, vol. xiv. p. 145.

What stupidity ! not to perceive that the " Play on't" was the
drama called The Ball, written by Shirley and Chapman !

TO THE READER.

Too soon and too late this work is published : too
soon, in that it was in the press before I had no
tice of it, by which means some faults may escape
in the printing ; too late, for that it was not pub
lished when the general voice of the people had
sealed it for good, and the newness of it made it
much more desired than at this time ; for plays in
this city are like wenches new fallen to the trade,
only desired of your neatest gallants whiles they're
fresh ; when they grow stale they must be vented
by termers* and country chapmen. I know not
how this labour will please : sure I am it passed
the censure of the stage with a general applause.
Now, whether vox populi be vox Dei or no, that I
leave to be tried by the acute judgment of the
famous six wits of the city. — FAREWELL.

a termers'] i. e. persons (generally of ill repute) who re
sorted to London during term-time.

PROLOGUE."

IF, for opinion hath not blaz'd his fame,

Nor expectation fill'd the general round,

You deem his labours slight, you both confound

Your graver judgment and his merits :

Impartial hearing fits judicious spirits.

Nor let the fruit of many an hour fall

By envy's tooth or base detraction's gall :

Both which are tokens of such abject spirits,

Which, wanting worth themselves, hate other[s']

merits ;

Or else of such, which once made great by fame,
Repine at those which seek t' attain the same.
From both we know all truer judgments free :
To them our Muse, with blushing modesty,
Patiently to her entreats their favour ;
Which done, with judgment praise, or else dislike

the labour.

b Prologue] The first line of it and a word in the fourth
line have dropt out at press.

VOL. II.

DRAMATIS PERSONS. c

GLISTER, a doctor of physic.

PURGE, a jealous apothecary.

DRYFAT, a merchant, a brother of the Family.

GERARDINE, a lover [of MARIA].

LIPSALVE, \ two gauants t^at only pursue city lechery.

IxUDGEON, J

CLUB, an apprentice {to PURGE].
VIAL, a servant to GLISTER.

[Apprentice and Servants],

MISTRESS GLISTER.

MISTRESS PURGE, an elder in the Family.

MARIA, niece to GLISTER.

c The old ed. has (what is generally wanting in early 4tos)
a list of the characters. The only alteration I have made in
it is the suhstitution of " SHRIMP" for " SMELT," the pre
cocious youth being always throughout the play introduced
under, and addressed by, the former name.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

ACT I. SCENE I.

A Gallery in GLISTER'S House.
Enter GLISTER, MISTRESS GLISTER, and MARIA.

GLI. Tricks and shows ! Protestations with men
are like tears with women, forgot ere the cheek be
dry. Gerardine is a gentleman ; his lands be in
statutes : 'ad is not for thee, nor thou for him : 'a
is a gallant, and young thoughts be most un-
constant.

MAR. Yet young vines yield most wine.

Mis. G. But old vines the best. Believe not
these great-breechede gallants ; they love for pro
fit, not for affection : if 'a brings thee to a fool's
paradise, 'a will forsake thee.

GLI. Which fortune God send my enemy ! Love
is a cold heat/ a bitter sweet, a pleasure full of
pain, a huge loss, and no gain. Why shouldest
thou love him only ?

MAR. Words cannot force what destiny hath
seal'd.

d 'a] For he occurs over and over again in this drama.

e great-breeched gallants'] i. e. gallants who wear trunk-hose
— breeches swelled out to a preposterous size by stuffings of
rags, wool, hair, &c.

f a cold heat, &c.] Here, perhaps, the doctor meant to
rhyme.

112 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

Who can resist the influence of his stars,

Or give a reason why 'a loves or hates.

Since our affections are not rul'd by will,

But will by our affections ?* Tis blasphemy

'Gainst love's most sacred deity, to askh

Why we do love, since 'tis his only power

That sways all our affections : all things which be,

Beasts, birds, men, gods, pay him their fealty.

GLI. Tut, love is an idle fantasy, bred by desire,
nursed by delight, an humour that begins his do
minion in Leo the lion, the sign of the heart ; and
ends in Aries the ram, the sign of the head : his
power is to stir the blood, — pricks up the flesh,
fills all the body with a H^hidinous_humour. and is
indeed the overture1 of all ladies : which to pre
vent, I have banished Gerardine, your dearly be
loved, my house ; and as for you, since I am your
guardian by my brother's last will, I will sequester
you from all other rooms in my house save this
gallery and your upper chamber, till, in discretion,
I shall find it convenient to enlarge you.

MAR. My body you may circumscribe, confine,
And keep in bounds ; but my unlimited love
Extends itself beyond all circumscription.

Mis. G. Believe me, Maria, I have known the
natures of divers of these gallants. If they pos
sess the unlimited love of us women in never so
ample manner, without the society of the body,

* affections] Qy. here and in the next line but two, for the
sake of the verse, affects — which in our early poetry has the
same meaning.

h ask'] Old ed. " axe," which, though the genuine Saxon
form of the word, and perhaps used here by Middleton, is
now considered so ludicrous a vulgarism, that I have sub
stituted the modern spelling.

' overture] i. e. overthrow.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 113

I know how soon their love vadeth :J young men's
love is like ivy ; it must have somewhat to cleave
to, or it never prospers. Love is like fasting-days,
but the body is like flesh-days ; and 'tis our Eng
lish gallants' fashion to prefer a morsel of flesh
before all the fasting-days in the whole year.

Enter VIAL.

GLI. The news with you, Vial ?

VIAL. And it likek your worship, here's Club,
master Purge the 'pothecary's 'prentice, come to
invite you, my mistress, and mistress Maria, to
supper, and to see master Gerardine's will sealed.

GLI. Tell Club my wife and myself will be there,
but Maria shall not come. [_Exit VIAL.] — There
must be your sweetheart's parting feast. Now 'a
perceives no access to my house, 'a will to sea ; a
good riddance : if 'a returns not, you, forsooth, are
his heir ; that's not much amiss. Yet there may
be tricks : I will not be overreached. Come, to
your chamber ; where, till my return, you shall be
in safe custody. [Exit with MISTRESS GLISTER.

MAR. O silly men, which seek to keep in awe
Women's affections, which can know no law !

[MARIA ascends.1

J vadeth~] Brathwait (Strappado for the Diuell, 1615, p. 53)
has,

" Thy form's diuine, no fading, vading flower ;"

and Spenser and other poets use vade as a rhyme to fade : but
though the words were considered as different, it would not
be easy to assign a distinct meaning to each.

k And it like] i. e. if it please.

1 Maria ascends] So old ed. — i. e. goes into the upper
chamber which Glister has just mentioned.

114 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

SCENE II.

A Street : before GLISTER'S House.
Enter GERARDINE, LIPSALVE, and GUDGEON.

LIP. Now, by the horns of Cupid's bow, which
hath been the bane to many a tallm citizen, I think
there be no finer fools under heaven than we men
when we are lovers. How thou goest crying up
and down, with thy arms across, for a wife ! which
hadst thou, she'd cross both arms, head, and heart.
Dost not yet know, the old saying, — a wife brings
but two good days, that is her wedding-day, and
death-day ?

GUD. Believe him, Gerardine, 'a speaks now
gospel : a man may take more wife with one hand
than he's able to put away with ten, Gerardine.
A wife is such a cross, that all married men would
most gladly be rid of.

GER. And yet such a cross," that all bachelors
would gladly be creeping to.
Profane not thus the sacred name of love,
You libertines, who never knew the joys
Nor precious thoughts of two consenting hearts !

LIP. Didst ever see the true picture of a lover ?
I can give thee the hieroglyphic ; and this it is :
a man standing naked, a wench tickling him on the
left side with a feather, and pricking him under
the right side with a needle. The allegory, as I
take, is this : that at the first we are so overjoyed
with obtaining a wife, that we conceit no heaven

m tall'] i. e. brave, bold.

n a cross, &c.] Old ed. " to cross,'1 &c. — Creeping to the
cross was a ceremony of penance imposed by the Romish
Church.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 115

like to the first night's lodging ; and that's the sig
nification of the left side, for wives always in the
night take the left-side place : but, sir, now come
to the needle on the right side, — that's the day
time, wherein she commands ; then, sir, she has a
certain thing called tongue, ten times more sharp
than a needle, and that, at the least displeasure, a
man must have shot quite through him.

GUD. Gramercies, Lipsalve, my neat courtier ! —
But, sirrah Gerardine, be thyself, sociable and free :
leave not thy native soil for a giglot,P a wench who
in her wit is proud —

LIP. In her smile deceitful

GUD. In her hate revengeable

LIP. And in nothing but her death acceptable.
I'll tell thee, there's no creature more desirous of
an honest name, and worse keeps it, than a woman.
Dost hear ? follow this song ; and if ever thou for
sake thy country for a wagtail, let me be whipt to
death with ladies' hairlaces.

GER. Let's hear that worthy song, gentle master
Lipsalve.

LIP. Observe :

[Sings'] Now, if I list, will I love no more,
Nor longer wait upon a gill,^
Since every place now yields a wench ;
If one will not, another will :
And, if what I have heard be true,
Then young and old and all will do.
How dost thou like this, man ?

GER. No more, no more.
This is the chamber which confines my love,
This is the abstract of the spacious world :
Within it holds a gem so rich, so rare,

P giglot] i. e. wanton. * gill] i. e. girl, wench.

116 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

That art or nature never yet could set
A valued pricer to her unvalued8 worth.

LIP. Unvalued worth ?* ha, ha, ha ! Why, she's

but

A woman ; and they are windy turning vanes ;
Love light as chaff, which when our nourishing

grains

Are winnow'd from them, unconstantly they fly
At the least wind of passion : a woman's eye
Can turn itself with quick dexterity,
And in each wanton glass can comprehend
Their sundry fancy suited to each friend."
Tut, their loves are all compact of levity,
Even like themselves : nil muliere levius.

GUD. Tut, man, every one knows their worth
when they are at a rack-rent : in the term-time
they bear as great a price as wheat when tran
sportations are.

[MARIA appears above at a window.

GER. Peace : let's draw near the window, and
listen if we may hear her.

MAR. Debarr'd of liberty ! O, that this flesh
Could, like swift-moving thoughts, transfer itself

r A valued price, &c.] i. e. a price equal in value to her in
estimable worth.

8 unvalued'} Old ed. " in valued," — which, as one word,
might stand ; but see the next speech.

* unvalued worth, &c.] This passage seems to be corrupted.
For the benefit of those who are not familiar with " small
4tos," I subjoin it as exhibited in the old ed.

" Vnvalued worth, ha ha ha ! Why ? shees but a woman,
And they are windy turning veins, loue light as chaffe which

when

Our nourishing graynes are winnow'd from them,
Vnconstantly they flye at the least wind of passion
A womans eye, can turne it selfe with quick dexterity."
u friend'] Old ed. « fend."

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 117

From place to place, unseen and undissolv'd !
Then should no iron ribs or churlish flint
Divide my love and me : dear Gerardine,
Despite of chance or guardian's tyranny,
I'd move within thy orb and thou in mine !

LIP. She'd move within thy orb and thou in
hers ? blood, she talk[s] bawdy to herself. — Gud
geon, stand close.

MAR. But, [ah], in vain do I proclaim my grief,
When air and walls can yield me no relief!

GUD. The walls are the more stony-hearted then.

LIP. Peace, good Gudgeon, gape not so loud.

MAR. Come thou, my best companion ! thou art

sensible,

And canst my wrongs reiterate : thou and I
Will make some mirth in spite of tyranny.
The black -brow'd Night, drawn in her pitchy v

wain,

In starry-spangled pride rides now o'er heaven :
Now is the time when stealing minutes tell
The stole delight joy'd by all faithful lovers :
Now loving souls contrive both place and means
For wished pastimes : only I am pent
Within the closure of this fatal wall,
Depriv'd of all my joys.

GER. My dear Maria, be comforted in this :
The frame of heaven shall sooner cease to move,
Bright Phoebus' steeds leave their diurnal race,
And all that is forsake their natural being,
Ere I forget thy love.

MAR. Who's that protests so fast ?

GER. Thy ever-vowed servant, Gerardine.

MAR. O, by your vows, it seems you'd fain get
up.

LIP. Ay, and ride too. \_Aside.

v pitchy] Old ed. " pithie."

118 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

GER. I would, most lov'd Maria.

MAR. I knew it : he that, to get up to a fail-
woman, will stick to vow and swear, may be
accounted no man. But tell me,
Why hast thou chose this hour to visit me,
Which nor the day nor night can claim, but both
Or neither ? why in this twilight cam'st thou ?

GER. T' avoid suspicious eyes : I come, dear

love,

To take my last farewell ; fitting this hour,
Which nor bright day will claim nor pitchy night,
An hour fit to part conjoined souls.
Since that my native soil will not afford
My wish'd and best content, I will forsake it,
And prove more strange to it than it to me.
In time's swift course all things shall find event,
Be it good or ill ; and destinies do grant
That most preposterous courses often gain
What labour and direct proceedings miss.

MAR. Wo'tw thou forsake me then ?

GER. Let first blest life forsake me ! Be [thou]

constant :

My absence may procure thy more enlarge,
And then

MAR. Desire's conceit is quick ; I apprehend

thee :

Be thou as loyal as I constant prove,
And time shall knit our mutual knot of love.
Wear this, my love's true pledge. [Throws it down."]

I need not wish,

I know thou wo't return, n[or] will I say
Thou may'st conceal thyself, being return'd,
Till I may make escape, and visit thee.
I prithee, love, attempt not to ascend
My chamber-window by a ladder'd rope :

w Wo't~\ Or Wu't— a corruption of will.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 119

Th5 entrance is too narrow, except this post,
Which may with ease, — yet that is dangerous :
I prithee, do it not. I hear some call :
Farewell !w
My constant love let after-actions tell. [Exit above.

GER. O perfection of women !

LIP. A plaguex of such perfection !

GER. How she wooes ! by negatives shews

GUD. Thee what to do, under colour of dis
suasion.?

GER. She's truly virtuous !

LIP. Tut, man, outward apparancez is no authentic
instance8 of the inward desires : women have sharp
falcon's eyes, and can soar aloft ; but keep them,
like falcons, from flesh, and they soon stoop to a
gaudy lure.

GER. Why, then, Huguenot women are admir
able angels.

GUD. But angelsb make them admirable devils.

GER. My love's chaste smile to all the world

doth speak
Her spotless innocence.

w Farewell'] An imperfect couplet : see notes, p. 7 of this
vol. and p. 424 of vol. i.

x Lip. A plague, &c.] What I have here assigned to Lip
salve is given to Gerardine in the old ed.

y under colour of dissuasion] Like another young lady, in
Chapman's May Day, 1611 :

" JEmilia. But good cuze, if you chance to see my chamber
window open, that is upon the tarrasse, doe not let him come
in at it in any case.

Lodovico. 'Sblood how can he ? can he come over the wall
think 'st ?

^Emilia. O sir, you men have not devices with ladders of
ropes to scale such walles at your pleasure, and abuse us
poore wenches !" p. 22.

z apparance} i. e. appearance. & instance"] i. e. proof.

b angels} See note, vol. i. p. 250.

120 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

LIP. Women's smiles are more of custom than of
courtesy : women are creatures ; their hearts and
they are full of holes, apt to receive, but not retain
affection. Thou wilt to-morrow, thou sayest, be
gone : if thou wilt know the worst of a country,0
marry before thou goest ; for if thou canst endure
a curst wife, never care what company thou comest
in.

GER. Come, merry gallants, will you associate
me to my cousin Purge's the 'pothecary's, and
take part of my parting feastd to-night ?

GUD. O, his wife is of the Family of Love : I'll
thither ; perhaps I may prove of the fraternity in
time : we'll thither, that's flat. [Exeunt*.

SCENE III.

A Room in PURGE'S House.
Enter MISTRESS PURGE.

Mis. P. What, Club, Club! Is Club within
there ?

Enter CLUB.

CLUB. Mistress?

Mis. P. I pray, what said master doctor Glister ?
will 'a come ?

CLUB. 'A sent word 'a would, for 'a was but to
carry a diet to one of his patients — what call you
her ? she that paints a day-times, and looks fair
and fresh on the outside, but in the night-time is
filthier than the inside of Bocardo,6 and is indeed far
more unsavoury [to those] that know her, forsooth.

c country'} Old ed. " cuntries."
d feast} Old ed. " feasts."

e Bocardo} i. e. a dungeon, a prison, — properly, the old
north gate of Oxford, which served as a prison. The gate no

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 121

Mis. P. Went 'a to her ?

CLUB. 'A had a receipt for the grincomes6 in his
hand, and 'a said 'a would take that in his way.

Mis. P. 'Tis well : and what guest[s] besides
him and his wife will be here at supper ?

CLUB. The first in my account is master Gerar-
dine your cousin, master doctor Glister and his
wife, master Dryfat the merchant, master Lipsalve
the courtier, master Gudgeon the gallant, and their
pages, — these, I take, will be your full number.

Mis. P. Then belike my room shall be stuffed
with courtiers and gallants to-night. Of all men I
love not these gallants ; they'll prate much, but do
little : they are people most uncertain ; they use
great words, but little sense ; great beards, but^
little wit ; great breeches/ but no money.

CLUB. That was the last thing they swore away.

Mis. P. Belike they cannot fetch it again with
swearing, for if they could, there's not a page of
theirs but would be as rich as a monarch.

CLUB. There's nothing, mistress, that is sworn
out of date that returns. Their first oath in times
past was by the mass; and that they have sworn
quite away : then came they to their faith, as, by
my faith, 'tis so; that in a short time was sworn
away too, for no man believes now more than 'a
sees : then they swore by their honesties ; and that,
mistress, you know, is sworn quite away : after
their honesty^ was gone, then came they to their

longer exists, having been pulled down in 1771 ; but the syl
logism from which it seems to have derived its name still
torments the students of that university, in the pages of
Aldrich's Logic.

e grincomes'] i. e. the venereal disease.

f great breeches'] See note, p. 111.

8 honesty] Old ed. " honestyes."
VOL. IT. M

122 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

gentility, and swore as they were gentlemen; and
their gentility they swore away so fast, that they
had almost sworn away all the ancient gentry out
of the land ; which, indeed, are scarce missed, for
that yeomen and farmers' sons, with the help of
a few Welchmen, have undertook to supply their
places : thenh at the last they came to silver, and
their oath was by the cross of this silver ; and swore
so fast upon that, that now they have scarce left
them a cross1 for to swear by.

Mis. P. And what do they swear by, now their
money is gone ?

CLUB. Why, by ( )} and God refuse them.

Mis. P. And can they not as well say, men re
fuse them, as God refuse them ?

CLUB. No, mistress ; for men, especially citizens
and rich men, have refused theirk bonds and pro
testations already.

Enter PURGE.

Mis. P. 'Tis well : see how supper goes forward,
and that my shoes be very well blacked against I go
to the Family. [Exit CLUB.] — Now, sweet chick,
where hast thou been ? In troth, la, I am not well :
I had thought to have spent the morning at the
Family, but now I am resolved to take pills, and
therefore, I pray thee, desire doctor Glister that 'a
would minister to me in the morning.

* then'] Old ed. " that."

1 a cross] See note, vol. i. p. 246.

j % ( )] So the old ed., the author having used some

expression which the printer was afraid to insert. Copies of
early plays frequently occur in which words have been struck
through with a pen, perhaps by some public authority. I
possess several pieces by Marston, from which the objection
able words have been cut out.

k refused their'] Old ed. "refused them their."

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 123

PUR. Thy will is known ; and this for answer

say,

'Tis fit that wise men should their wives obey.
And now, sweet duck, know I have been for my
cousin Gerardine's will, and have it : 'a has given
thee a legacy, but the total is Maria's.

Enter GLISTER, MISTRESS GLISTER, and DRYFAT.

Master doctor, your wife, and master Dryfat, are
most welcome : now, were my cousin Gerardine
and master Lipsalve here, our number were com
plete.

GLI. Is this frantic will done ? will master
Gerardine to sea? Let me tell you, I am no whit
sorry ; let such as will be headstrong bite on the
bridle.

PUR. 'Tis here, master doctor ; all his worth is
Maria's, and locked in a trunk, which by to-mor-
row['s] sun shall be delivered to your custody.

DRY. Methinks 'twere a reasonable match to be-
/ stow your niece on master Gerardine : 'a is a most

(hopeful gentleman, and his revenue such, that
having your niece's portion to clear it of all in-
cumbrances, 'twill maintain them both in a very
worthy degree.

GLI. Tut, you are master Dryfat the merchant ;
your skill is greater in cony-skinsk and woolpacks
than in gentlemen. His lands be in statutes : you
merchants were wont to be merchant staplers; but
now gentlemen have gotten up the trade, for there
is not one gentleman amongst twenty but his
land[s] be engaged in twenty statutes staple.1

k cony-skins'] i. e. rabbit-skins.

1 statutes staple] " The mercer, hee followeth the young

"~A vpstart gentleman, that hath no gouernement of himselfe, and

he feedeth his humour to goe braue : hee shall not want silkes,

124 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

Enter LIPSALVE, GERARDINE, and GUDGEON.

LIP. [singing] Let every man his humour have,

I do at none repine ;
I never regard whose wench I kiss,
Nor who doth the like by mine :
Th' indifferent mind's I hold still best,

Whatever does befall;
For she that will do with me and thee

Will be a wench for all.
And how go the squares ?m

PUR. Your stay, gentlemen, does wrong to a
great many of good stomachs : your suppers ex
pect you.

GUD. And we our suppers.
GLI. And from what good exercise come you
three ?

GER. From a play, where we saw most excellent
Sampson" excel the whole world in gate-carrying.
DRY. Was it performed by the youths ?°
LIP. By youths ? Why, I tell thee we saw
Sampson, and I hope 'tis not for youths to play

sattins, veluets, to pranke abroad in his pompe ; but with this
prouiso, that hee must binde ouer his land in a statute-mer
chant or staple : and so at last forfeit all vnto the mercilesse
mercer, and leaue himselfe neuer a foot of ground in Eng
land." GREENE'S Quip for an Fpstart Courtier, sig. F 3. ed.
1620.

m how go the squares'] Old ed. " how goes," &c. — i. e. how
goes on the game? — (chess-boards being full of squares).
" What, fellow Robin, how goes the squares with you?" Wily
Beguilde, sig. E 4. ed. 1623.

n a play, where we saw most excellent Sampson, &c.] From
Henslowe's MSS. we learn that "Sampson, by Samuel Rowley
and Edw. lubye," was acted in July 1602: see Malone's
Shakespeare (by Boswell), vol. iii. p. 327. To this drama
(which has not come down to us) Middleton perhaps alludes.

0 the youths'] i. e. the children of Paul's, or some of the
other theatrical children then performing.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 125

Sampson. Believe it, we saw Sampson bear the
town-gates on his neck from the lower to the
upper stage,? with that life and admirable accord,
that it shall never be equalled, unless the whole
new livery of porters set [to] their shoulders.

Mis. P. Fie, fie, 'tis pity young gentlemen can
bestow their time no better : this playing is not
lawful, for I cannot find that either plays or players
were allowed in the prime church of Ephesus by
the elders.

DRY. Aha, I think she tickled you there !

PUR. Cousin Gerardine, shall the will be read
before supper ?

GER. Before supper, I beseech you.

LIP. Ay, ay, before supper, — for when these
women's bellies be full, their tongues^ will be soon
at rest. [Aside.

DRY. Well, master doctor, pity the state of a
poor gentleman : it is in you to stay his journey,
and make him and yourself happy in his choice.

GLI. Hold you content. — Shall this will be read?

PUR. It shall. — Read you, good master Lipsalve.

LIP. Command silence then.

GUD. Silence!

LIP. [reads'] In the name of God, amen. Know
all men by these presents,* that I Gerardine, being
strong of body, and perfect in sense

DRY. That's false ; there's no lover in his per
fect sense.

GUD. Peace, Dryfat.

P the upper stage] Was a balcony at the back of the stage,
its platform being raised probably eight or nine feet from the
ground. It served for a window, &c. &c. &c. — the frequently
occurring direction in our early plays, " enter above," meaning
" enter on the upper stage."

i tongues'] Old ed. " bones."

r presents'] Old ed. " presence."

126 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

LIP. [reads] Do give and grant to Maria Glister,
daughter of John Glister, and niece to doctor Glister,
physician, all my leases, lands, chattels, goods, and
moveables whatsoever. This is stark naught : you
cannot give away your moveables, for mistress
doctor and mistress Purge claim both shares in
your moveables by reason of their legacies.

DRY. That's true, for their legacies must go out
of your moveables.

LIP. I ['11] put it in — all my moveables, these fol
lowing legacies being paid.

GER. Do so, good master Lipsalve.

LIP. [after writing^ 'Tis done.

Mis. P. I pray, read only the legacies, for supper
stays.

LIP. Well, the legacies : [reads] First, I give to
my cousin, mistress Purge, a fair large standing —
what's this? — O, cup, — a fair large standing cup,
with a close stool.

DRY. 'Tis not so, 'tis not so.

LIP. I cry you mercy ; a close cover 'tis. [Reads']
To mistress doctor I give a fair bodkin of gold, with
tn'o orient pearls attending the same : all which are
in my trunk to be delivered to the keeping of Maria.
In witness, fyc. — Is this your will ?

GER. 'Tis.

LIP. To it with your hand and seal.

[GERARDINE signs and seals the will.

Mis. P. How is it, chick ? I must have the
standing cup, and mistress Glister the bodkin?

PUR. Right, sweet duck.

GER. I pray, gentlemen, put to your hands.

DRY. Come, your fists, gentlemen, your fists.

GER. [while the witnesses sign the willJ] Mistress
Glister, I have found you always more flexible to
understand the estate of a poor gentleman than

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 127

your husband was willing : therefore I have thought
it a point of charity to reveal the wrongs you sus
tain8 by your husband's looseness. Let me tell
you in private that the doctor cuckolds Purge
oftener than he visits one of his patients : what 'a
spares from you 'a spends lavishly on her. These
'pothecaries are a kind of panders : look to it : if
'a keep Maria long close, it is for some lascivious
end of his own.

Mis. G. She is his niece.

GER. Tut, these doctors have tricks. Your nice-
ness is such that you can endure no polluted shoes*
in your house : take heed lest 'a make you a bawd
before your time ; look to it.

LIP. Come, our hands are testimonies to thy
follies. ShalPs now to supper ? We'll have a health
go round to thy voyage.

GUD. Ay, and to all that forswear marriage, and
can be content with other men's wives.

GER. Of which consort0 you two are grounds;
one touches the bass, and the other tickles the
minikin. v

But to our cheer : come, gentles, let's away ;
The roast meat's in consumption by our stay.

[Exeunt.

s sustain'] Old ed. "sustained."

* shoes'] Old ed. "showes:" in act ii. sc. 4, mistress Glister
says, " I pray, let's have no polluted feet nor rheumatic chaps
enter the house ; I shall have my floor look more greasy,"
&c. : and a little after, " Let them come in, if their feet be
clean."

u consort] i. e. company of musicians.

v tickles the minikin~] "Minikin," says Nares (Gloss, in v.),
" seems sometimes to have meant treble in music." — It
certainly also meant a fiddle : " when I was a young man and
could tickle the Minikin . . . but now ... I am falne from the
Fiddle," &c. "A Fidler, when he hath crackt his Minikin."
Jacke Drums Enter tainement, sigs. A 3, E 3, ed. 1616.

128 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

ACT II. SCENE I.

A Room in PURGE'S House.

Enter PURGE.

PUR. The grey-eyed morning braves me to my
face, and calls me sluggard : 'tis time for trades
men to be in their shops ; for he that tends well
his shop, and hath an alluring wife with a graceful
what d'ye lack ?w shall be sure to have good doings,
and good doings is that that crowns so many citi
zens with the horns of abundance. My wife, by
ordinary course, should this morning have been at
the Family, but now her soft pillow hath given her
counsel to keep her bed : master doctor should
indeed minister to her ; to whose pills she is so
much accustomed, that now her body looks for
them as duly as the moon shakes off the old and
borrows new horns. I smile to myself to hear our
knights and gallants say how they gull us citizens,
when, indeed, we gull them, or rather they gull
themselves. Here they come in term-time, hire
chambers, and perhaps kiss our wives : well, what
lose I by that? God's blessing on's heart, I say
still, that makes much of my wife ! for they were
very hard-favoured that none could find in's heart
to love but ourselves : drugs would be dog-cheap,
but for my private well-practised doctor and such
customers. Tut, jealousy is a hell ; and they that
will thrive must utter their wares as they can, and
wink at small faults. [Exit.

w what d'ye lacJc] See note, vol. i. p. 447.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 129

SCENE II.

A Street.
Enter GLISTER.

GLI. The tedious night is past, and the jocund
morn looks more lively and fresh than an old gen
tlewoman's glazed face in a new periwig. By this
time my humorous lover is at Gravesend ; and I
go with more joy to fetch his trunk than ever the
valiant Trojans did to draw in the Grecian jade :
his goods shall into the walls of my Troy, and be
offered to a face more lovelyx than ever was that
thrice-ravished Helen['sJ ; yet with such caution
that no danger shall happen to me. [Exit.

SCENE III.

Another Street.

Enter LIPSALVE and SHRIMP, meeting GUDGEON
and PERIWINKLE.

GUD. Master Lipsalve, welcome within ken : we
two are so nearly linked, that if thou beest absent
but one two hours, thy acquaintance grows almost
mouldy in my memory.

LIP. And thiney fly-blown in mine : how dost
thou do ?

SHR. Fellow page, I think our acquaintance
runs low too; but if it run not o' the lees, let's set
it a-tilt, and give 'em some dregs to their mouldy,
fly-blown compliments.

PER. No, rather let's pierce the rundlets of our

x lovely"] Old ed. "liuely." ? thine] Old ed. "then."

130 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

running heads, and give 'em a neat cup of wagship
to put d&wn their courtship.

SHR. Courtship ? cartship ! for the tongues of
complimenters run on wheels : but mark 'em ; they
ha' not done yet.

GUD. And, i'faith, how is't ? methinks thou hast
been a long vagrant.

LIP. The rogation2 hath been long indeed : there
fore we may salute as ceremoniously as lawyers
when they meet after a long vacation, who, to re
new the discontinued state tale, they stretch it out
with such length, that whilst they greet before,
their clients kiss them behind.

SHR. If his nose were put i' the remainder of
that state tale, he would say 'twere an unsavoury
one.

PER. I wonder why many men girda so at the
law.

SHR. I'll tell thee, because they themselves have
neither law nor conscience.

GUD. But what news now ? how stands the state
of things at Brussels ?

LIP. Faith, weak and limber, weak and limber :
nothing but pride and double-dealing : virtue is
vice's lackey ; beggars suck like horse-leeches at
the heart of bounty, and leave himb so tired and
spur-galled that he can be no longer ridden with
honesty.

GUD. Well fare the city yet ! there virtue rides
a cockhorse, cherished and kept warm in good
sables and fox-fur, and with the breath of his

z rogation] From the preceding words, " thou hast been a
long vagrant," I suspect that a pun is intended here : to
rogue meant — to play the vagrant.

a gird~\ i. e. cut, gibe.

b leave him] Old ed. "loues theame."

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 131

nostrils drives pride and covetousness before him,
like's own shadow : beggars have whipping cheer :
bounty obliges0 men to't ; and liberality gives
money for scrips and scrolls, sealed with strong
arms and heraldry to outlive mortality : love there
will see the last man born, never give over while
there's an arrow i' th' quiver.

LIP. Now we talk of love, I do know, not far
hence, so good a subject for that humour, that if
she would wear but the standing collar and her
things in fashion, our ladies in the court were but
brown sugar-candy, as gross as grocery to her.

GUD. She is not so sweet as a 'pothecary's shop,
is she ?

LIP. A plague on you ! ha' you so good a scent?
— For my life, he's my rival. \Aside.

GUD. Her name begins with mistress Purge,
does it not?

LIP. True, the only comet of the city.

GUD. Ay, if she would let her ruffs stream out
a little wider : but I am sure she is ominous to
me ; she makes civil wars and insurrections in the
state of my stomach : I had thought to have bound
myself from love, but her purging comfits maked
me loose-bodied still.

LIP. What, has she ministered to thee then ?

GUD. Faith, some lectuarye or so.

LIP. Ay, I fear she takes too much of that lec-
tuary to stoop to love ; it keeps her body soluble
from sin : she is not troubled with carnal crudities
nor the binding of the flesh.

c bounty obliges, &c.] Old ed. " bounty obliges men too't, giues
mony for scrips and scrolls, and liberality seald," &c.
d make] Old ed. " makes."
e lectuary] i. e. electuary.

132 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

GUD. Thou hast sounded her then, belike.

LIP. Not I, I am too shallow to sound her ;
she's out of my element : if I shew passion and
discourse of love to her, she tells me I am wide
from the right scope ; she says she has another
object, and aims at a better love than mine.

GUD. O, that's her husband.

LIP. No, no ; she speaks pure devotion : she's
impenetrable ; no gold or oratory, no virtue in
herbs nor no physic will make her love.

GUD. More is the pity, I say, that fair women
should prove saints before age had made them
crooked. — 'Tis my luck to be crossed still, but I
must not give over the chase. [Aside.

LIP. Come hither, boy, while I think on't.

[LIPSALVE talks apart to SHRIMP.

GUD. Faith, friend Lipsalve, I perceive you
would fain play with my love. A pure creature
'tis, for whom I have sought every angle f of my
brain ; but either she scorns courtiers, as most of
them do, because they are given to boast of their
doings, or else she's exceeding strait-laced : there
fore to prevent^ this smell-smock, I'll to my friend
doctor Glister, a man exquisite in th' art magic,
who hath told me of many rare experiments avail
able in this case. [_Aside.~] — Fare well, friend Lipsalve.

LIP. Adieu, honest Gregory : frequent my
lodging ; I have a viol de gambo and good to
bacco. [Exeunt GUDGEON and PERIWINKLE.] — Thou
wilt do this feat, boy ?

SHR. Else knock my head and my pate together.

LIP. Away then : bid him bring his measure
with him. [Exit SHRIMP.] — Gerardine is travelled,

f angle} i. e. corner.

* prevent] See note, p. 49.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 133

and I must needs be cast into his mould. My flesh

grows proud ; and Maria's a sweet wench, &c.h

But yet I must not let fall my suit with mistress

Purge, lest, sede vacante, my friend Gudgeon join

issue :

I'll rather to my learned doctor for a spell,

For I have a fire in my liver1 burns like hell.

[Exit.

SCENE IV.

A Room in GLISTER'S House.
Enter MISTRESS GLISTER and MARIA.

Mis. G. I pray,J let's have no polluted feet nor
rheumatic chaps enter the house ; t shall have my
floor look more greasy shortly than one of your
inn-of-court dining- tables. — And now to you, good
niece, I bend my speech. Let me tell you plainly,
you are a fool to be love-sick for any man longer
than he is in your company : are you so ignorant in
the rules of courtship, to think any one man to bear
all the prick and praise ?k I tell thee, be he never
so proper, there is another to second him.

MAR. Let rules of courtship be authentic still
To such as do pursue variety ;
But unto those whose modest thoughts do tend

h $c.~\ See note, vol. i. p. 252.

' liver] Was supposed to be the seat of love.

J / pray, &c.] The first part of this speech is addressed to
a servant off the stage.

k the prick and praise] So in The London Prodigally 1605 :
" tho she had the pricke and praise for a prettie wench."
Sig. E 3. Spenser has, Faery Queene, ii. xii. 1,

" her adorned head
To prick of highest praise forth to advance."

The prick was the point or mark in the centre of the butts in
archery.

VOL. II. N

134 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

To honour'd nuptials and a regular life,
As far from shew of niceness1 as from that
Of impure thoughts, all other objects seem
Of no proportion,111 balanc'd with esteem
Of what their souls affect.

Mis. G. No marvel" sure you should regard these
men with such reverend opinion : there's few good
faces and fewer graces in any of them : if one
among a multitude have a good pair of legs, he never
leaves riding the ring till he has quite marred the
proportion : nay, some, as I have heard, wanting
lineaments to their liking and calf to support them
selves, are fain to use art, and supply themselves
with quilted calves, which oftentimes, in revelling,
fall about their ankles ; and for their behaviour,
wit, and discourse, except some few that are
travelled, it is as imperfectious and silly as your
scholars new come from the university. By this
light, I think we lose part of our happiness, when
we make these weathercocks our equals.

MAR. Disgrace not that for which our sect0 was

made,
Society? in nuptials : 'bove those joys

1 niceness] i. e. scrupulousness, over-delicacy.

111 Of no proportion, &c.] Old ed.

" Respectlesse, of no proportion," &c.

" Respectless" is probably a word which the author had ori
ginally written, but forgot to erase. In the address To the
Reader (p. 107) he mentions the " faults in the printing."

n No marvel} May be right perhaps, if mistress Glister is
speaking ironically ; but qy. " Now I marvel."

0 sect] i. e. sex : the word in this sense is of frequent
occurrence in old writers.

P Society, &c.] Old ed.

" Society in nuptiall beds aboue these joys"
In the MS., I suppose, the word " beds," for which Middleton
had substituted " nuptials," was not deleted : see note m supr.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 135

Which lovers taste when their conjoined lips
Suck forth each other's souls, the earth, the air,
Yea, gods themselves, know none. Elysium's sweet,
Ay, all that bliss which poets' pens describe,
Are only known when soft and amorous folds
Entwine the corps of two united lovers,
Where what they wish they have, yet still desire,
And sweets are known without satiety .P

Enter VIAL.

VIAL.I Here's Club, forsooth, and his fellow
'prentice have brought master Gerardine's trunk.

Mis. G. Let them come in if their feet be clean.
[Exit VIAL.] — So, then, your best-beloved is gone ;
fair weather after him ! all thy passions1" go with
him ! recomfort thyself, wench, in a better choice :
his love to thee would have been of no longer con
tinuance than the untrussing of his hose ;s then
why shouldst thou pine for such a one ?

MAR. She's foolish sure : with what imperfect

phrase
And shallow wit she answers me ! [Aside.

Enter CLUB and another Apprentice, with a trunk.

Mis. G. Honest Club, welcome : is this master
Gerardine's trunk ? he is gone then ?

CLUB. Ay, indeed, mistress Glister, he is de
parted this transitory city, but his whole substance
is here enclosed ; which, by command, we here

P satiety~\ Old ed. " society."

i Vial~\ Here, and afterwards in this scene, the old ed. pre
fixes Nun. (i. e. Nuntius} to his speeches.

r passions] i. e. sorrowings.

8 untrussing of Ms hose~\ i. e. untying the points of his hose :
see note, vol. i. p. 367.

136 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

deliver to your custody, to the use of mistress
Maria, according to the tenour of the premises.

Mis. G. Place it here, my honest Club : well
done : and how does thy mistress ? was she at
the Family to-day ? [CLUB spits."] Spit not, good
Club, T cannot abide it.

CLUB. Not to-day, forsooth ; she hath over
charged herself and her memory : she means to
use a moderation, and take no more than she can
make use of.

Mis. G. And, I prithee, Club, what kind of
creatures are these Familists ? thou art conversant
with them.

CLUB. What are they ? with reverence be it
spoken, they are the most accomplished creatures
under heaven ; in them is all perfection.

Mis. G. As how, good Club ?

CLUB. Omitting their outward graces, I'll shew
you only one instance, which includes all other ;
they love their neighbours better than themselves.

Mis. G. Not than themselves, Club.

CLUB. Yes, better than themselves ; for they love
them better than their husbands, and husband and
wife are all one ; therefore, better than themselves.

Mis. G. This is logic : but tell me, doth she
not endeavour to bring my doctor of her side and
fraternity ?

CLUB. Let him resolve8 that himself, for here he
comes.

Enter GLISTER.

GLI. O, hast thou brought the trunk, honest
Club ? I commend thy honest care : here's for
thy pains. [Giving money.

CLUB. I thank you, master doctor ; you are free

s resolve'] See note, p. 23.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 137

and liberal still : you'll command me nothing
back ?

GLI. Nothing but commendations : farewell.
[Exeunt CLUB and Apprentice, ,] — Your sweetheart
Gerardine is by this time cold of his hope to
enjoy thee : he's gone ; and a more equal and able
husband shall my care ere long provide thee. —
What clients have been here in my absence, wife ?

Mis. G. Faith, mouse,* none that I know more
than an old woman that had lost her cat, and came
to you for a spell in the recovery.

GLI. I think egregious ignorance will go near to
save this age ; their blindness takes me for a con
juror : yesterday a justice of peace salutes me with
proffer of a brace of angelsu to help him to his
footcloth/ some three days before stolen, and was
fain to use his man's cloak instead on't.

Re-enter VIAL.

VIAL. Here's a gentleman craves speech with
you, sir.

GLI. Go in, sweet wife, and give my niece good
counsel.

\_Exeunt MISTRESS GLISTER and MARIA.
— His name ?

VIAL. He will not tell it me.

GLI. His countenance ?

VIAL. I can see nothing but his eyes : the rest
of him is so wrapt in cloak that it suffers no view.

GLI. Admit him. [Exit VIAL.]— What should
he be for a man ? w

1 mouse] Was formerly a common term of endearment.
w angels] See note, vol. i. p. 250.
v footcloth] See note, vol. i. p. 396.

w What should he be for a man ?~\ i. e. What man should
he be?

138 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

Enter LIPSALVE.

What, master Lipsalve, is't you ? why thus ob
scured ? what discontent overshadows you ?

LIP. A discontent indeed, master doctor, which
to shake off I must have you extend your art to
the utmost bounds. You physicians are as good
as false doors behind hangings to ladies' necessary
uses : you know the very hour in which they have
neither will to deny nor wit to mistrust : faith
now, by the way, when are women most apt ?

GLI. Shall I unbutton myself unto you ? after
the receipt of a purgation, for then are their pores
most open : but what creature of a courtier is it
hath drawn your head into the woodcock's noose ?

LIP. A courtier ? nay, by this flesh, I am clean
fallen out with them ; they have nothing propor
tionable.

GLI. O, I perceive, then, 'tis some city star that
attracts your aspect.

LIP. He knows by his art. \_Aside.~] — In plain
terms, a certain 'pothecary's wife.

GLI. Upon my life, mistressx Purge : I smell
you, sir.

LIP. You may smell a man after a purgation :
indeed, sir, 'tis she. Now, for that fame hath
bruited? you to be a man expert in necromancy, I
would endear2 myself to you for ever, would you
vouchsafe to let one of your spirits bring mistress
Purge into some convenient place, where I might
enjoy her : I have heard of the like : can you per
form this ?

* mistress'] Old ed. " master."

y bruited'} i. e. reported.

z endear'] Old ed. " endeauour :" compare our author's
Michaelmas Term ; " I'll be dear to you, do but perform it,"
vol. i. p. 478.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 139

GLI. With much facility, I assure you : but you
must understand that the apparition of a spirit is
dreadful, and withal covetous, and with no small
sum of gold hired to such feats.

Re-enter VIAL.

VIAL. Sir, here's another gentleman, muffled too,
that desires present conference with you.

GLI. Walk you into that room : I will bethink
myself for your good, and instantly resolvea you.
[Exit LIPSALVE.] — Let the gentleman come in.
[Exit VIAL.] — Lipsalve in love with my vessel of
ease ? come to me to help him to a morsel most
affected by mine own palate ? No more but so :
I have shaped it ; the conceit tickles me.

Enter GUDGEON.

Sir, as a stranger I welcome you — what, master
Gudgeon, have I caught you ? I thought it was a
gallant that walked muffled : come, let me behold
you at full ; here are no sergeants, man.

GUD. Master doctor, this my obscure coming
requires an action more obscure ; and, in brief, this
'tis. Sir, you are held a man far seen in nature's
secrets ; I know you can effect many things almost
impossible : know, then, I love mistress Purge, and
opportunity favours me not, nor indeed is she so
tractable as I expected : if either by medicine or
your art magical you can work her to my will, I
have a poor gallant's reward, sir.

GLI. That's just nothing. \_Aslde.~\ — But how,
sir, would you have me to procure you access to
mistress Purge ? you never knew a physician a
bawd.

H resolve] See note, p. 23.

140 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

GUD. Why, by conjuration, I tell you, wherein
you are said to be as well practised as in physic :
here's the best part of my present store to effect it.

[Giving money.

GLI. Not a penny for myself; but my spirits,
indeed, they must be feed.a Walk you by here,
while I think upon a spell. [GUDGEON retires.^ —
What mystery should this be ? Lipsalve and Gud
geon both in love with mistress Purge, and come
to me to help 'em by art magic ? 'Tis some gullery
sure ; yet, if my invention hold, I'll fit them. —
Who's within there ?

Enter Servant*

Fetch me, in all liaste, two good whips ; I think
you may have them not far hence. [Exit Servant.']
— It shall be so. [Aside.'] — Now, tell me, master
Gudgeon, does no man know of your love to mis
tress Purge ?

GUD. Not a man, by my gentry.

GLI. Then, sir, know I'll effect it ; but under
stand withal the apparition will be most horrid if
it appear in his proper form, and will so amaze
and dull your senses, that your appetite will be
lost and weak, though mistress Purge should attend
it naked. Now, sir, could you name a friend with
whom you are most conversant, in his likeness
should the spirit appear.

GUD. Of all men living my conversation is most
frequent with Lipsalve the courtier.

GLI. 'Tis enough : I'll to my spirit. [GUDGEON
retires, and GLISTER writes a few words."] — Are these
whips come there ?

a feed'} Old ed. « fed."

b Servant} Old ed. " One."— Perhaps Vial should be the
person who enters.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 141

Re-enter Servant with whips.

SER. Ready here, sir. [Exit.

GLI. So, lie thouc there. My noble gallants, I'll
so firk you ! \_Aside*~\ — Sir, my spirit agrees in Lip
salve's shape : to-morrow, 'twixt the hours of four
and five, shall mistress Purge be rapt with a whirl
wind into Lipsalve's chamber : that's the fittest place,
for, by the break of day, Lipsalve shall be mounted
and forsake the city for three days ; so my spirit
resolvesd me. Now, sir, by my art, at that very
hour shall his chamber-door fly open ; into which
boldly enter in this sort accoutred ; put me on a
pure clean shirt, leave off your doublet (for spirits
endure nothing polluted), take me this whip in
your hand, and, being entered, you shall see the
spirit in Lipsalve's shape, in the self- same form
that you appear ; speak these words here ready
written [giving a paper], take three bold steps
forward, then whip him soundly, who straight
vanisheth, and leaves mistress Purge to your will.

GUD. Ay, but shall your spirit come armed with
a whip too ?

GLI. He shall, but have no power to strike.

GUD. Is this infallible? have you seen the
proof?

GLI. Probatum, upon my word ; I have seen the
experience : if it fail, say I am a fool, and no ma
gician.

GUD. Master doctor, I would you had some suit
at court ; by the faith of a courtier, I would beg it
for you. Fare you well, sir : I shall report of you
as I find your charm.

c thou] i. e. one of the whips : the other he presently gives
to Gudgeon.

d resolves'] See note, p. 23.

142 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

GLI. And no otherwise, sir : let me understand
how you thrive. [Exit GUDGEON.] — Ha, ha, ha !
Now to my friend Lipsalve : I must possess him
with the same circumstance ; wherein I am assured
to get perpetual laughter in their follies and my
revenge. [Exit.

Re-enter MARIA.C

MAR. O, which way shall I turn, or shift, or go,
To lose one thought of care ? no soothing hope
Gives intermission, or beguiles one hour
Of tedious time, which never will have end,
Whilst love pursues in vain my absent friend.
Thou continent of wealth, whose want of store,
For that it could not peizef th' unequal scale
Of avarice, giv'st matter to my moan !
O dross, the level of insatiate eyes,
The devil's engine, and the soul's corrupter,
Thou play'st th' attorney 'gainst the lawful force
Of true affection, dost interpose a bar
'Twixt hearts conjoin'd ! curs'd be thy seed of

strife,

Whose progress chokes the natural course of life !
[GERARDINE rises out of the trunk, while
MARIA retreats in alarm.

MAR. O, help, help, help !

GER. Stay, sweet Maria ! I bring thee ample joy

e Re-enter Maria] The stage-direction in the old ed. is
" Enter Maria ouer the trunke ;" and Middleton probably in
tended the spectators to suppose (for, as there was no move-
able painted scenery when he wrote, they were obliged to
suppose a great deal,) that the trunk, left on the stage by the
apprentices, had been removed to Maria's apartment since
the exit of Glister. When she enters at the commencement
of scene iv. (p. 133), the room is certainly not her own apart
ment : Gerardine is thought to have left the country, and
she has the free range of the house.

f peize~\ i. e. weigh down.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 143

To check that sudden fear : let thy sweet heart,
That-constant seat of thy affection,
Repay that blood exhausted from thy veins.
Fear not, sweet wench : I am no apparitioti,
But the firm substance of thy truest friend :
Know'st thou me now ?

MAR. Gerardine, my love ?
[O] what unheard-of accident presents
Thy unexpected self, and gives my heart
Matter of joy, mix'd with astonishment?
I thought thou had'st been cabin'd in thy ship,
Not trunk'd within my cruel guardian's house.

GER. That cruelty gives fuel to desire ; ,/
For l<^vj^iij^rejj^^^ raging fire,

Which burns all obstacles that stop his course,
And mounts aloft. The ocean in his source
May easier hide himself and be confin'd,
Than love can be obscur'd ; for in the mind
She holds her seat, and through that heavenly

essence

Is near when far remote ; her virtual presence
Fills, like the air, all places, gives delight,
Hope in despair, and heart 'gainst fell despite.
That worst of men, thy cruel guardian, may
Keep down awhile, but cannot dissipate
What heaven hath join'd ; for fate and providence
Gave me this stratagem, to let him know
That love will creep where 'tis restrain'd to go.

MAR. I apprehend the rest : O rare conceit !
I see thy travel happily was feign'd
To win access, which with small ease thou'stg

gain'd.

This trunk, which he so greedily supposes
Contains thy substance (as it doth indeed),

s thou' si] Old ed. " thou hast."

144 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

Upon thy fair pretence in lieu of love

Bequeath'd to me, if death should stop the course, —

This trunk, I say, he hugs ; sink thou or swim,

So he may feed his wolf, that root of sin,

His avarice : but heaven, that mocks man's might,

Gives this close means t' insist upon our right.

GER. Ingenious spirit, true oracle of love !
Thou hast prevented11 me : this was my plot,
Whose end and scope I long to imitate
With accents free, and uncontroll'd with fear.
Does opportunity stand fair ?

MAR. Not now :
Danger stands sentinel.

GER. Then I'll retire :
We must be cautelous.1

[He goes again into the trunk.

MAR. So, so : and time
Shall not oft turn his hour-glass ere I'll find
PlaceJ and occasion fitting to thy mind. [Exit.

ACT III. SCENE I.

MARIA'S Apartment.
Enter GERARDINE and MARIA.

GER. The coast is clear, and Argus' wakeful

eyes

Securely sleep : time turns to us his front.
Come, sweet Maria, of th' auspicious hours
Let's take advantage.

MAR. With all my heart ;
I do embrace the motion with thyself :
Welcome, sweet friend, to liberty of air.

h prevented] See note, p. 40.

1 cautelous'] i. e. artfully cautious.

J Place'] Old ed. " Peace."

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 145

Which now, methinks, doth promp[t] our breaths

to move

Sweet accents of delight, the joys of love.
How dost thou brook thy little-ease, j thy trunk ?

GER. That trunk confines this chest ; this chest

contains

Th' unbounded speculation of our love,
Incomprehensible grief, joy, hope, and fears ;
Th' affections of my mind are like the spheres,
Which in their jarring motions do agree,
Through th' influence of love's sweet harmony.

MAR. Are not inferior bodies here on earth
Produc'd and govern'd by those heavenly ones ?

GER. They are.

MAR. They jar, you say ; yet in that strife

maintain

Perpetual league : why should their influence
In rational souls be check'd by erring sense ?
Or why should mutual love, confirm'd by heaven,
B' infring'd by men ? methinks 'tis most uneven. k

GER. Thou argu'st well, Maria; and this withal,
That brutes nor animals do prove a thrall
To such servility : souls that are wards
To gold, opinion, or th' undue regards
Of broking men, wolves that in sheep-skin bands
Prey on the hearts to join th' unwilling hands,
Ruin fair stocks, when generous houses die,
Or propagate their name with bastardy.

J little-ease'] Was a cant term, used long before Middleton's
time, for the pillory, stocks, or bilboes, (and, as I suspect from
several passages in our early writers, for some apartment in
a prison) ;

" You dare not make discovery
For feare of Little-ease. That were a prison
Too fearful for such bravery to stoop into."
BROME'S New Academy, p. 58. — Five New Playes, 1659.
k uneven'] i. e. unjust.
VOL. II. O

146 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

MAR. Sterility and barrenness ensue
Such forced love ; nor shall erroneous men
Pervert my settled thoughts, or turn mine eye
From thy fair object, which I will pursue,
Rich in thy love, proud of this interview.

GER. I'll suck these accents : let our breaths

engender

A generation of such pleasing sounds,
To interchange delights. O, my blood's on fire !
Sweet, let me give more scope to true desire.

MAR. What wouldst thou more than our minds'
firm contract ?

GER. Tut, words are wind ; thought unreduct1

to actm
Is but an embryon in the truest sense.

MAR. I am beleague[r]'d ; I had need of sense :
You make me blush : play fair yet above board.

GER. Hear me exemplify love's Latin word
Together with thyself:

As thus : — hearts join'd, Amore : take A from thence,
Then more is the perfect moral sense,
Plural in manners, which in thee do shine
Saint-like, immortal, spotless, and divine :
Take M away, ore in beauty's name
Craves an eternal trophy to thy fame :
Lastly, take 0, in re stands all my rest,
Which I, in Chaucer-style, do term a jest.

MAR. You break all modest bounds ; away,
away !

GER. So when men come behind do women say.

MAR. Come, come, I say —

GER. Ay, that's the word indeed :
Men that come bold before are like to speed.

1 unreduct'} i. e. unreduced.
m act] Old ed. " art."

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 147

But who comes here ?m Monstrum horrendum ! my
nostrils have the rank scent of knavery. Maria,
let's remove ourselves to the window, and observe
this piece of man's flesh. [Scene closes.

SCENE II.

A Street : before GLISTER'S House.

Enter LIPSALVE disguised as GERARDINE, and
SHRIMP.

LIP. Now, mistress Maria, ward yourself: if
my strong hope fail not, I shall be with you to
bring -

SHR. To bring what, sir ? some more o' your
kind?

LIP. Faith, boy, that's mine aim.

SHR. I'll be sworn, sir, you have a good loose ;u
you let fly at 'em a-pace.

LIP. I have shot fair and far off; but now I hope
to hit the mark indeed.

m But who comes here] In the old ed. these words are pre
ceded by the stage-direction " Enter Lipsalve and Shrimp his
Page ;" and at the end of the speech Gerardine and Maria
exeunt.

I have already noticed (p. 142) the wantofmoveable painted
scenery in Middleton's days. Here the spectators were to sup
pose that Gerardine and Maria, standing on the upper-stage
(see note, p. 125), were either in the apartment of the latter,
or in the gallery communicating with it (see p. 112) : when
Lipsalve had entered, they were to suppose that the stage
represented a street ; and when Gerardine and Maria had
re-appeared " above," they were to suppose that the upper-
stage was a window. Having found it necessary to begin a
new scene with the entrance of Lipsalve, I hope my readers
will be kind enough to suppose that, when Gerardine says
" ivho comes here," he happens to turn his eye towards the
window, and catches a glimpse of that gallant.

Means, in archery, the discharging of the arrow.

148 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

SHR. God save it !

LIP. But where's the sign ?

SHR. Why, there.

LIP. That's a special thing to be observed.

SHR. I have heard talk of the Gemini : me-
thinks, that should be a star favourable to your
proceeding.

LIP. The Gemini ? O, I apprehend thee : that's
because I am so like Gerardine ; ha, is't not so,
boy?

SHR. As if you were spit out on's mouth, sir ;
you must needs be like him, for you are both cut
out of a piece. But, lord, sir, how you hunt this
chase of love ! are you not weary ?

LIP. Indefatigable, boy, indefatigable.

SHR. Fatigable, quoth you ? you may call it
leanable well enough, for I am sure it is able to
make a man lean.

LIP. 'Tis my vocation, boy ; we must never be
weary of well-doing : love's as proper to a courtier
as preciseness to a puritan.

[MARIA appears above ; GERARDINE concealing
himself behind her.0

SHR. Love, subaudi lust ; a punk in this place
subintelligitur. [Aside.

LIP. Boy, I have spied my saint.

SHR. Then down on your knees.

LIP. Fly off, lest she take thee for my familiar. —
Save thee, sweet Maria !

Nay, wonder not (for thou thyself art wonder,)
To see this unexpected gratulation.

0 Maria appears, &c.] The stage-direction in the old ed. is
" Enter Gerardine and Maria above." — I may observe, that as
curtains were suspended before the upper- stage (see note,
p. 125), to conceal, if necessary, those who occupied it, they
were probably used here for that purpose by Gerardine.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 149

MAR. Whom do I see? O, how my senses

wander !
Am not I Hero ? art not thou Leander ?

GER. Thou'rt in the right, sweet wench ; more

of that vein.
LIP. Her passion o'ercomesp her ; 'tis the kindest

soul !
O excellent device ! it works, it works, boy.

SHE. It does indeed, sir, like the suds of an ale-
fat or a washing-bowl.

LIP. Joy not too much ; extremes are perilous.
MAR. O weather-beaten love ! — Cisley, go make

a fire ;
Go, fetch my ladder of ropes, Leander's come.

LIP. Mark, how prettily in her rapture she harps
upon Gerardine's travel. —
Let th' ecstasy have end, for I am Gerardine.
GER. The devil you are ! [Aside.

MAR. Ha ? let me see : my love so soon re-

turn'd ?

LIP. I never travell'd farther than thine eyes ;
My bruited^ journey was a happy project
To cast a mist before thy jealous guardian,
Who now, suspectless, gives some hope t' attain
My wish'd delight, before pursu'd in vain.

GER. Ask if he strain'd not hard for that same

project.

MAR. Has not that project overrack'd thy brain,
And spent more wit than thou hast left behind ?
SHR. By this light, she flouts him. [Aside.

LIP. No, wit is infinite : I spent some brain ;
Thy love did stretch my wit upon the tenters.
GER. Then is't like to shrink in the wetting.

[Aside.

P overcomes'] Old ed. " ouercomes."
i bruited] See note, p. 138.

150 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

MAR. It cottens well ;r it cannot choose but bear
A pretty nap : I tender thy capacity ;
A comfortable caudle cherish it :
But where's my favour that I bid thee wear
As pledge of love ?

GER. Now dost thou put him to't ;
More tenters for his wit ; he's non plus quite.

LIP. I wear it, sweet Maria, but on high days,
Preserve it from the tainting of the air —
What should I say ? [Aside.'] — Tis in my t'other
hose.8

MAR. How ? in your t'other hose ? he that I love
Shall wear my favour in those hose he has on.

LIP. Fiends and furies ! block that I am ! [Aside.

SHR. In your t'other hose? — She talked of a
ladder of ropes : if she would let it down, for my
life, he would hang himself in't. [Aside. ~\ — In your
t'other hose ? why, those hose are in lavender :*
besides, they have never a codpiece ; but, indeed,
there needs no ivy where the wine is good : in
your t'other hose ?

MAR. I said you were too prodigal of wit.

LIP. Expostulate no more ; grant me access,
Or else I'll travel to the wilderness.

MAR. Your only way : go, travel till you tire ;
Be rid, and let a gull discharge the hire.

SHR. Master, the doctor, the doctor !

LIP. Where ? which way ?

SHR. This way, that way, some way I heard him
coming.

LIP. O boy, I am abused, gulled, disgraced !
my credit's cracked.

r cottens well] i. e. succeeds, goes on well — an expression
drawn, as the present passage indicates, from the manu
facturing of cloth.

s hose] i. e. breeches. * in lavender] i. e. in pawn.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 151

SHR. You know that's nothing new for a* courtier.

LIP. O, I shall run beside myself!

SHR. No, sir, that's my office ; I'll run by your
side.

LIP. My brain is out of temper ! what shall I do?

SHR. Take her counsel, sir ; get a cullisu to
your capacity, a restorative to your reason, and a
warming-pan to your wit : he comes, he comes !

LIP. Follow close, boy ; let him not see us.

\_Exeunt LIPSALVE and SHRIMP.

Enter GLISTER.

GLI. What, more flutterersv about my carrion ?
more battery to my walls ? shall I never be rid of
these petronel-flashes ?w As for my friend Gerar-
dine, the wind of my rage has blown him to discover
countries ; and let the sea purge his love away and
him together, — I care not. Young wenches now
are all o' the hoigh : we that are guardians must
respect more besides titles, gold lace, person, or
parts ; we must have lordships and manors else
where as well as in the man : wealth commands
all ; and wealth I'll have, or else my minion shall
lead apes in hell. I must after this gallant too :
I'll know his rendezvous, and what company he
keeps. [Exit.

MAR. Now must we be abrupt :x retire, sweet
friend,

' new for a] Old ed. "/or a new."

u take her counsel, sir ; get a cuttis] Maria had recommended
a caudle (see p. 150) : but we find in old writers a distinction
made between cullises and caudles. A cullis (which will be
more particularly noticed hereafter) was a strong broth, a
savoury jelly.

v flutterers~\ Old ed. " flatterers."

w petronel- flashes] A petronel is a carbine, a horseman's gun.

x abrupt} i. e. separated.

152 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

To thy small-ease :x what more remains to do,
We'll consummate at our next interview.

GER. So shall I bear my prisonment with plea
sure :

Look thou but big, our? cruel foe will yield,
And give to Hymen th' honour of the field.

[Exeunt above.

SCENE III.

A Street : before the Meeting-house of the Family

of Love.

Enter MISTRESS PURGE, CLUB carrying a link before
her.

Mis. P. Fie, fie, Club, go a' t'other side the
way, thou collowest71 me and my ruff; thou wilt
make me an unclean member i' the congregation.

CLUB. If you be unclean, mistress, you may
pure yourself ; you have my master's ware at your
commandment : but what am I then, that does all
the drudgery in your house ?

Mis. P. Thou'rt born to't : why, boy, I can
shew thy indentures ; thou givest no other milk :
we know how to use all i' their kind.

CLUB. You're my better in bark and rine,a but
in pith and substance I may compare with you :
you're above me in flesh, mistress, and there's

x small-ease] See note, p. 145.

y our] Some copies of the old ed. " or," others " nor:" I
have already noticed that, though they occasionally present
different readings, there is but one edition of the play : see
p. 103.

z collowest] i. e. begrimest, blackenest : she alludes to the
smoke of the link. Collow is smut from burnt coals.
* rine\ A vulgar corruption of rind : old ed. " rhyne ;"
" Whose eyes doe shine
Like bacon rine."

Wily Beguilde, sig c 2, ed. 1623.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 153

your boast ; but in my t'other part we are all one
before God.

Enter DRYFAT.

Mis. P. All one with me ? dost thou swear too ?
why then, up and ride !

DRY. Whither away, mistress Purge ?

Mis. P. To the Family, master Dryfat, to our
exercise.5

DRY. What, by night ?

Mis. P. O Lord, ay, sir, with the candles out
too : we fructify best i' th' dark : the glance of the
eye is a great matter ; it leads us to other objects
besides the right.

DRY. Indeed I think we perform those functions
best when we are not thrall to the fetters of the
body.

Mis. P. The fetters of the body ? what call you
them?

DRY. The organs of the body, as some term
them.

Mis. P. Organs ? fie, fie, they have a most
abominable squeaking sound in mine ears ; they
edify not a whit ; I detest 'em : I hope my body
has no organs.0

DRY. To speak more familiarly, mistress Purge,
they are the senses, the sight, hearing, smelling,
taste, and feeling.

Mis. P. Ay, marry — marry, said I? Lord, what
a word's that in rny mouth ! — you speak now,
master Dryfat ; but yet let me tell you where you

b exercise] See note, vol. i. p. 211.

c / hope my body has no organs'] " But the most dangerous
of all was a Puritan Chandler . . , . . he thought a man in a
surplesse to be the Ghost of Heresy, and was out of love with
his owne members, because they were called Organs." MAR-
MYON'S Fine Companion, 1633, sig. i 4.

154 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

err too : this feeling I will prove to be neither organ
nor fetter ; it is a thing — a sense did you call it ?

DRY. Ay, a sense.

Mis. P. Why, then, a sense let it be, — I say it is
that we cannot be without ; for, as I take it, it is a
part belonging to understanding : understanding,
you know, lifteth up the mind from earth : if the
mind be lift up, you know, the body goes with
it : also it descends into the conscience, and there
tickles us with our works and doings : so that we
make singular use of feeling.

DRY. And not of the rest ?

Mis. P. Not at that time ; therefore we hold it
not amiss to put out the candles, for the soul sees
best i' th' dark.

DRY. You come to me now, mistress Purge.

Enter PURGE behind.

Mis. P. Nay, I will come to you else, master
Dryfat : these senses, as you term them, are of
much efficacy in carnal mixtures ; that is, when we
crowd and thrust a man and a woman together.

PUR. What, so close at it ? I thought this was
one end of your exercise :d byrlady,6 I think there
is small profit in this. I'll wink no more ; for I am
now tickled with a conceit that it is a scurvy thing
to be a cuckold. \_Aside.

DRY. I commend this zeal in you, mistress
Purge ; I desire much to be of your society.

Mis. P. Do you indeed ? blessing on your heart !
are you upright in your dealings ?

DRY. Yes, I do love to stand to any thing I do,
though I lose by it : in truth, I deal but too truly
for this world. You shall hear how far I am

d exercise] See note, vol. i. p. 211.
e byrlady] See note, p. 66.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 155

entered in the right way already. First, I live in
charity, and give small alms to such as be not of
the right sect ; I take under twenty i' th' hundred,
nor no forfeiture of bonds unless the law tell my
conscience I may do't ; I set no pot on a' Sundays,
but feed on cold meat drest a' Saturdays ; I keep
no holydays nor fasts, but eat most flesh o' Fridays
of all days i' the week ; I do use to say inspired
graces, able to starve a wicked man with length ;
I have Aminadabs and Abrahams to my godsons,
and I chide them when they ask me blessing ; and
I do hate the red letterf more than I follow the
written verity.

PUR. Here'sjclergy \e [Aside.

Mis. P. These are the rudiments indeed, master
Dryfat.

DRY. Nay, I can tell you I am, or will be, of the
right stamp.

PUR. A pox o' your stamp ! [Aside.

Mis. P. Then learn the word for your admit
tance, and you will be much made on by the con
gregation.

DRY. Ay, the word, good mistress Purge ?

Mis. P. A Brother in the Family.

DRY. Enough, I have my lesson.

PUR. So have I mine. A Brother in the Family !
I must be a Familist to-day : I'll follow this gearh
while 'tis on foot, i'faith. \_Aside.

Mis. P. Then shore up your eyes, and lead the
way to the goodliest people that ever turned up
the white o' th' eye. — Give me my book, Club, put
out thy link,, and come behind us.

f the red letter'} Qy. does he allude to the rubrick distinc
tions in the Prayer-book, or to those in the Calendar ?
% clergy'] i. e. doctrine.
h gear\ i. e. matter, business.

156 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

[DRYFAT knocks at the door of the Meeting
house.

[Within']. Who's there?

DRY. Two Brothers and a Sister in the Family.1
[MISTRESS PURGE, DRYFAT, and CLUB, enter the
House : then PURGE knocks at the door.

[Within\. Who's there?

PUR. A Familiar Brother.

\_Within]. Here's no room for you nor your
familiarity.

PUR. How ? no room for me nor my familiarity ?
why, what's the difference between a Familiar Bro
ther and a Brother in the Family ? O, I know ! I
made ellipsis of in in this place, where it should
have been expressed, so that the want of in put
me clean out ; or, let me see, — may it not be some
mystery drawn from arithmetic ? for my life, these
Familists love no substraction, take nothing away,
but put in and add as much as you will ; and after
addition follows multiplication of a most Pharasit-
hypocritical crew. Well, for my part I like not
this Family, nor, indeed, some kind of private lec
turing that women use. Look too't, you that have
such gadders to your wives ! self-willed they are
as children, and, i'faith, capable of not much more
than they, peevishJ by custom, naturally fools. I
remember a pretty wooden sentence in a preamble

1 in the Family'} The old ed. adds, as part of the text, " Let
in ;" but the words are a stage-direction. — In The Displaying
of the Family of Loue, &c. (already mentioned, see p. 106), we
are told : " They are called together euer in the night time :
and commonly to suche houses as be far from neighbours,
one of them doth alwayes warne an other : and when they
come to the house of meeting, they knocke at the doore,
saying, here is a Brother in Christ, or a Sister in Christ."
Sig. H iiii.

J peevish] i. e. silly.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 157

to an exercise,k where the reader prayed that men
of his coat might grow up like cedars to make
good wainscot in the House of Sincerity : would
not this wainscot phrase be writ in brass, to pub
lish him that spake it for an animal ? Why, such
wooden pellets out of earthen trunks1 do strike
these females into admiration, hitm 'em home ; some
times, perhaps, in at one ear and out at t'other, and
then they depart, in opinion wiser than their neigh
bours, fraught with matter able to take down and
mortify their husbands. Well, I'll home now, and
bring the true word next time. I shall expect my
wife anon, red-hot with zeal, and big with melting-
tears ; and this night do I expect, as her manner
is, she will weep me a whole chamber-pot full.
Loquor lapides ? do I cast pills abroad ? 'Tis no
matter what I say ; I talk like a 'pothecary, as I
am : I have only purged myself of a little choler
and passion, and am now armed with a patient
resolution. But how ? to put my horns in my
pocket ? no :

What wise men bear, is not for me to scorn ;
'Tis a[n] honourable thing to wear the horn.

[Exit.

k exercise} See note, vol. i. p. 211.

1 trunks] i. e. tubes. We find the word used in this sense
even during Charles the Second's time ;

" Through optic trunk the planet seem'd to hear."
To the King— MARVELL'S Works, vol. ii. p. 124, ed. 1726.
m hit'] Old ed. " hits."

VOL. II.

158 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

SCENE IV.

LIPSALVE'S Chamber.

Enter LIPSALVE without his doublet, a whip in his
hand.

LIP. Fortune, devil's turd i' thy teeth ! I'll turn
no more o' thy wheel : art is above thy might.
What though my project with mistress Maria
failed ? more ways to the wood than one ; there's
variety in love. It is believed I am out of town ;
my door is open : the hour is at hand ; all things
squared by the doctor's rule ; and now I look for
the spirit to bring me warm comfort to clothe my
nakedness, and that is mistress Purge, the cordial
of a Familist ; and come quickly, good spirit, or
else my teeth will chatter for thee. [Scene shuts.

SCENE V.n
Before LIPSALVE'S Chamber-door.

Enter GUDGEON without his doublet, a whip in his
hand.

GUD. O the naked pastimes of love, the scourge
of dulness, the purifier of uncleanness, and the
hot-house of humanity ! I have taken physic of
master Purge any time this twelvemonths to purge
my humour upon's wife, and I have ever found
her so fugitive, from exercise0 to exercise, and
from Family to Family, that I could never yet open
the close-stool of my mind to her ; so that I may

n Scene V.~\ I have marked a new scene here, and another
after Gudgeon has entered the chamber, contrary to the old
ed. and the arrangements (or rather, non-arrangements) of
our early stage : see note, p. 147.

0 exercise] See note, vol. i. p. 211.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 159

well say with Ovid, Hei mihi? quod nullis amor est
medicabilis herbis ! Now am I driven to prove the
violent virtue of conjuration : if it hit, and that I
yerk my Familist out of the spirit, I'll hang up my
scourge -stick for a trophy, and emparadize my
thoughts : though the doctor go to the devil, 'tis
no matter. Ha, let me see : Lipsalve's door open,
and himself out of town ? Excellent doctor, sooth
saying doctor, oraculous doctor !

[Enters the chamber.

SCENE VI.

LIPSALVE'S Chamber.

LIPSALVE discovered, as before : GLISTER watching
above.

GLI. I have taken up this standing to see my
gallants play at barriers^ with scourge-sticks, for
the honour of my punk :

Enter GUDGEON.

and in good time I see my brave spirits shining in
bright armour, nakedly burning in the hell-fire of
lechery, and ready for the hot encounter : sound
trumpets, the combatants are mounted ! [Aside.

GUD. The apparition ! mistress Purge peers
through him ; I see her.

LIP. The spirit appears ! but he might have
come sooner : I am numbed with cold, a shivering
ague hath taken away my courage.

GLI. They are afraid one of another : look, how
they tremble ! the flesh and the devil strengthen
'em ! ha, ha, ha ! [Aside.

P Hei mihi, &c.] Met. i. 523.

i play at barriers] i. e. fight within lists.

160 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

GUD. Has 'a no cloven feet? what a laxative
fever shakes me !

LIP. Will 'a not carry me with him to hell ?
well, I must venture. — Clogmathos.

GUD. My cue. — Clogmathathos.

LIP. My cue. — Garrazin.

GUD. Garragas.

LIP. Garrazinos.

GUD. Ton teluphon.

LIP. Tes tetuphes.

BOTH. With a rvhirly twinos.

[They lash one another.

LIP. Hold,r hold, hold !

GUD. Gogs nowns, gogs blood !

LIP. A pox, a plague, the devil take you !

GUD. Truce, truce, I smart, I smart.

GLI. Ha, ha, ha ! O, for one of the hoops of
my Cornelius' tub !s I must needs be gone, I shall
burst myself with laughing else.
Magic hath no such rule : men cannot find
Lust ever better handled in his kind.

\_Aside, and exit above.

GUD. What art thou ? with the name of Jove I
conjure thee !

LIP. With any name, saving the whip ; I'll no
more of that conjuration, a plague on't !

GUD. Speak, art not a spirit in the likeness of
my friend Lipsalve, that should transform thyself
to mistress Purge ?

LIP. How, a spirit ? I hope spirits have no flesh

r LIP. Hold, &c. ; GUD. Gogs, &c. ; LIP. A pox, &c. ; GUD.
Truce, &c.] Form only one speech in the old ed., with the
prefix " Ambo."

8 Cornelius' tub~\ i. e. the heated tuh in which patients
were sweated for the cure of the venereal disease : the origin
of the term (see Douce's Illmt. of Shake, vol. ii. p. 70) is un
certain.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 161

and blood ; and I am sure thou hast drawn blood
out of my flesh with the spirit of thy whip.

GUD. Then shall we prove to be honest gulls,
and the doctor an arrant knave.

LIP. A plague upon him for a Glister ! he has
given our loves a suppositor* with a recumbentibus.
I'll tell thee, sirrah,

GUD. Tell not me, let me prevent thee ; the
wind shall not take the breath of our gross abuse :
we feel the gullery, therefore let us swear by our
naked truths, and by the hilts of these our blades,
our flesh-tamers, to be revenged upon that pa,d- *
peropandentical doctor, that pocky doctor.

LIP. Agreed : we'll cuckold him, that he shall
not be able to put his head in at's doors ; and
make his precise, puritanical, and peculiar punk,
his 'pothecary's drug there, a known cockatrice" to
the world.

GUD. If report catch this knavery, we have lost
our reputations for ever : wherefore let's be secret.
Ill tax we women of credulity,
When men are gull'd with such gross foppery.

LIP. Come, let us in, and cover both our shames.
This conjuration to the world's a novelty ;
Gallants turn'd spirits, and whipt for lechery.

[Exeunt.
SCENE VII.
MARIA'S Apartment.
Enter MARIA.

MAR. Gerardine, come forth, Maria calls !
Those ribs shall not enfold thy buxom limbs

* suppositor~\ i. e. suppository. — Old ed. " suppositar." —
" I hold my life hee is a pottecarie, doe you neuer make no
suppositors sir?" Cupids Whirligig, sig. c 4, ed. 1616. ,

u cockatrice} A cant term for a harlot.

162 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

One minute longer : the cincture of mine arms
Shall more securely keep thy soul from harms.

GER. [coming out of the trunk] What heavenly

breath, of Phitonessa's power,v
That rais'd the dead corpse of her friendw to life,
Prevails no less on me ! for even this urn,
The figure of my sadder requiem,
Gives up my bones, my love, my life, and all,
To her that gives me freedom in my thrall.

MAR. Be brief, sweet friend, salute and part in

one ;

For niggard time now threats with imminent danger
Our late joy'd scope. Thy earnest, then, of love,
Ere Sol have compass'd half the signs, I fear
Will shew a blushing fault ; but 'twas thine aim,x
T' enforce consent in him that bars thy claim.

GER. Love salves that fault : let time our guilt

reveal,

I'll ne'er deny my deed, my hand, and seal.
The elements shall lose their ancient force,
Water and earth suppress the fire and air,

v Phitonessa's power] The word Phitoness — i. e. Pythoness —
is of frequent occurrence in the works of our earliest poets.
It generally means the witch of Endor :

" And speke as renably, and faire, and we],
As to the Phitonesse did Samuel."

CHAUCER'S Freres Tale, v. 7091, ed. Tyr.

See also Gower's Conf. Am. fol. Ixxiii. ed. 1554 ; Skelton's
" Adicyon" to Phyllyp Sparowe ; Sir D. Lyndsay's Monarchic,
Works, vol. iii. p. 151, ed. Chal. Sometimes it is used in a
more extended sense ;

" And Phetonisses, Charmeresses," &c.
CHAUCER'S House of Fame, fol. 267, Works, ed. 1602.

See also Lydgate's Warres of Troy, sig. K vi. ed. 1555.

w corpse of her friend'} Qy. " corps of her friends :" at
p. 135, 1. 6, corps is used for bodies.

x thine aim} Old ed. " thy plot, thyne ayme :" see note,
p. 134.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 163

Nature in all use a preposterous course,
Each kind forget his likeness to repair,
Before I'll falsify my faith to thee.

MAR. The humorous bodies' elemental kind
Shall sooner lose th' innated heat of love,
The soul in nature's bounds shall be confin'd,
Heaven's course shall retrograde and leave to

move,

Ere I surceasex to cherish mutual fire,
With thoughts refin'd in flames of true desire.

GER. These words are odours ony the sacred

shrine

Of love's best deity : the marriage-god
Longs to perform those2 ceremonious rites
Which terminate our hopes : till mine grow full,
I'll use that intercourse amongst my friends
That erst I did ; then, in the height of joy,
I'll come to challenge interest in my boy.
Till then, farewell.

MAR. You'll come upon your cue ?

GER. Doubt not of that.

MAR. Then twenty times adieu. [Exeunt.

ACT IV. SCENE I.

A Street : before the Meeting-house of the Family
of Love.

Enter LIPSALVE, GUDGEON, SHRIMP, and
PERIWINKLE.

GUD. Come, boys, our clothes,a boys : and what
is the most current news, Periwinkle ?

x surcease'] i. e. cease.

y on] Old ed. "in." z those] Old ed. "these."

a our clothes'] He means the dresses in which they were to
pass for Familists : see what follows.

164 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

PER. Faith, sir, fortune hath favoured us with
no news but what the pedlar brought from Nor
folk.

LIP. Is there nothing stirring at court, Shrimp ?

SHR. Faith, there is, sir, but nothing new.

LIP. Good wag, faith ! thou smellest somewhat
of a courtier, though thy mother was a citizen's
wife. — Off with that filthy great band, nay, quick ;
on with your robe of sanctity, nay, suddenly, man.

GUD. And why must we shift ourselves into this
demure habit, if impossible to be of the Family and
keep our own fashion ?

LIP. Tut, man, the name of a gallant is more
hateful to them than the sight of a corner-cap.
Hadst thou heard the protestations the wife of a
bellows-mender made but yesternight against gal
lants, thou hadst for ever abjured crimson breeches.
She swore that all gallants were persons inferior to
bellows-menders, for the trade of bellows-making
was very aerial and high ; and what were men and
women but bellows, for they take wind in at one
place and do evaporate at another ; — evaporate was
her very phrase.

GUD. Methinks, her phrase flew with somewhat
too strong a vapour.

LIP. Nay, she proves farther, that all men re
ceive their being chiefly from bellows, without
which the fire burns not ; without fire the pot
seethes not ; the pot not seething, powdered beef
is not to be eaten ; of which, she then averred our
nation was a great devourer, and without which
they could neither fight for their country abroad,
nor get children at home ; for, said she, powdered
beef is a great joiner of nerves together.

GUD. What answer madest thou ?

LIP. Marry, that I thought a bawd was a greater

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 165

joiner of nerves together than powdered beef: with
that she protested that a bawd was an instrument
of the devil, and as she had proved that bellows-
makers were of God's trade, so bawds were of the
devil's trade ; for (and thereupon she blew her
nose) the devil and bawds did both live by the
sins of the people.

GUD. No more : mistress Purge is at hand.

LIP. Vanish, boys, away. \_Exeunt SHRIMP and
PERIWINKLE.] — Make haste : before Jove, she'll be
with us ere we can be provided for her.

{They retire.

Enter MISTRESS PURGE, CLUB carrying a link
before her.

Mis. P. Advance your link, Club. At what time
wert thou bound, Club ? at Guttide,a Hollantide,b
or Candletide ?

CLUB. I was bound, indeed, about midsummer.

Mis. P. And when hath thy 'prenticeship end ?
at Michaeltide next ?

CLUB. So I take it.

Mis. P. They say, Club, you fall very heavy on
such you love not : you never learnt that of me.

CLUB. Indeed, mistress, I must confess my falling
is rustic, gross, and butcher-like : marry, yours is
a pretty, foolish, light, courtlikec falling : yet, be
lieve me, my master smells somewhat too gross of
the purgation ; he wants tutoring.

Mis. P. And why, I pray ?

CLUB. My master being set last night in his
shop, comes master doctor Glister, as his manner
is, squirting in suddenly ; and after some confer-

* Guttide] i. e. Shrovetide.

b Hollantide] A common corruption of Hallowstide.

c courtlike} Old ed. " courttake,"

166 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

ence, tells my master that, by his own knowledge,
you were young with child : to which my master
replied, Why, master doctor, will you put me to
more charges yet ?

Mis. P. Thou art a fool : in that my husband
spake as wisely as if the master of his company
had spoke. He knows doctors have receipts for
women, which makec them most apt to conceive ;
and he promising 'a had ministered the same lately
to me, thereupon spake it. Lead on with your
link.

LIP. Art ready ?

GUD. Ready.

LIP. Then speak pitifully, look scurvily, and
dissemble cunningly, and we shall quickly prove
two of the Fraternity. [Advancing with GUDGEON.]
— Benediction and sanctity, love and charity fall
on mistress Purge, sister of the Family !

Mis. P. And what, I pray, be you two ?

Lip.d Two newly converted from the rags of
Christianity to become good members in the house
of the Family.

Mis. P. Who, I pray, converted you ?

GUD. Master6 Dryfat, the merchant.

Mis. P. And from what sins hath he converted
you ?

LIP. From two very notorious crimes ; the first
was from eating fish on Fridays, and the second
from speaking reverently of the clergy : but 'a re-
solvedf us your talent in edifying young men went
far beyond his.

c make] Old ed. "makes."

d Lip.'] Old ed. here and before the next speech which I
have given to Lipsalve, " Sa."

e Master, &c.] This speech has no prefix in the old ed.
1 resolved] See note, p. 39.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 167

Enter PURGE behind.

Mis. P. A talent I have therein, I must confess,
nor am I very nicef at fit times to shew it : for your
better instructions, therefore, you must never here
after frequent taverns nor tap-houses, no masques
nor mummeries, no pastimes nor playhouses.

GUD. Must we have no recreation ?

Mis. P. Yes, on the days which profane lips call
holydays, you may take your spaniel and spend
some hours at the ducking-pond.

LIP. What are we bound unto during the time
we remain in the Family ?

Mis. P. During the light of the candle you are
to be very attentive ; which being extinguished,
how to behave yourselves I will deliver in private.

[Whispers.*

PUR. 'Tis now come to a whisper. What young
Familists be these ? i'faith, I'll make one ; I'll trip
you, wife : I scent your footing, wife.
For Galenh writes, Paracelsus can tell,
'Pothecaries have brains and noses eke1 to smell.

[Aside.

LIP. We shall with much diligence observe it.

PUR, I fear I shall have small cause to thank
that diligence : but do your worst ;
He that hath read fivej herbals in one year
Can find a trick which shall prevent this gear.k
They are going : follow, Purge, close, close and
softly, like a horsekeeper in a lady's matted cham
ber at midnight. [Aside.

1 nice] See note, p. 134.

s private. Whispers] Old ed. " priuate whisper :" but the
second word is a stage-direction.
h Galen'] Old ed. "Gallus."

1 eke] i. e. also. J five"] Old ed. " fine."

k gear] See note, p. 155.

168 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

[MISTRESS PURGE knocks at the door of the

Meeting-house.
[Within~]. Who knocks?
Mis. P. Brethren, and a Sister in the Family.
[Within]. Enter in peace.

[MISTRESS PURGE, LIPSALVE, GUDGEON, and

CLUB enter the house.

PUR. Brethren, and a Sister ! that's the word.
How beastly was I mistaken last day ! I should
have said, A Brother in the Family, and I said,
A Familiar Brother ; for which I and my family
were thrust out of doors : but, as Titus Silus of
Holborn Bridge most learnedly was wont to say,

qd 1 [Knocks.

[Within']. Who's there?

PUR. A Brother in the Family.

[Within]. Enter, and welcome.

[PURGE enters the house.

SCENE II.

A Street.
Enter GERARDINE, disguised as a Porter. ,m

GER. Thou sacred deity, Love !
Thou power predominate, more to be admir'd
Than able to be exprest, whose orb includes
All terrene joys which are ! all states which be
Pay to thy sacred throne,n as tribute-fee,
Their thoughts and lives. Like Jove's, so must
thy acts

1 9rf — ] Those who are acquainted with the sayings of Titus
Silus will probably understand this hieroglyphic.

m disguised as a porter} These words are not in the old ed.
From what follows in this scene we find that he wears a dis
guise, and we may justly conclude that it is no other than the
porter's dress in which he appears during the next scene.

n throne} Qy. " shrine :" compare p. 163, 1. 10.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 169

Endure no question : why, thy hidden facts
The gods themselves obey : heaven-synod holds
No gods but what thy awful power controls ;
The Delphian archer, proud with Python's spoil,
At Cupid's hand was forc'd to take the foil ;
Not Mars his star-like11 adamantine targe
Could free his warlike breast at Cupid's charge ;
And Jove, whose frown all mortal lives bereaves,
His0 marble throne and ivory sceptre leaves,
And in the likeness of a bull was seen,
As forc'd by him to bear the Tyrian queen
Through Neptune's watery kingdom : if these

submit,

My metamorphose is not held unfit.
And see, in most wished occasion, Dryfat the mer
chant presents himself.

Enter DRYFAT.

Sir, in the best of hours met : my thoughts had
marked you out for a man most apt to do them the
fairest of offices.

DRY. What ! art thou a Welsh carrier or a
northern landlord, thou'rt so saucy ?

GER. Is't possible, sir, my disguise should so
much fool your knowledge ? How ? a northern
landlord ? can you think I get my living by a bell
and a clack-dish ?P

DRY. By a bell and a clack-dish ? how's that ?

GER. Why, by begging, sir. Know you me
now?

11 star-like] Old ed. " warlike :" but see the next line.

0 His] Old ed. " This."

? a bell and a clack-dish^ A clack-dish, or clap-dish, was a
wooden dish with a moveable cover, which was carried by
beggars, and which they clacked to shew that it was empty :
see Steevens's note on Shakespeare' s Measure for Measure, act
iii. sc. 2. The bell was another means of attracting attention.
VOL. II. Q

170 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

DRY. Master Gerardine, disguised and ashore !
nay, then I smell a rat.

GER. Master Dryfat, shall I repose some trust
in you ? will you lay by awhile your city's precise
humour ? will you not deceive me ?

DRY. If I deceive your trust, the general plague
seize me ! that is, may I die a cuckold.

GER. And I say thou shalt die a true citizen, if
thou conceal it : and thus in brief. It stands with
thy knowledge how seriously I have and do still
affect Maria : now, sir, I have so wrought it, that
if thou couldst procure me a fellow that could
serve instead of a crier, I myself would play
Placket the paritor/i and summon doctor Glister
and Maria to appear at thy house : and as I playr
the paritor, so wouldst thou but assume the shape
of a proctor, I should have the wench, thou the
credit, and the whole city occasion of discourse
this nine days.

DRY. How's this, how's this ? I should procure
a fellow to play the crier,8 and I myself should
play the proctor ? but upon what occasion should
they be summoned ?

GER. Upon an accusation that doctor Glister
should get Maria, his niece, with child, and have
bastards in the country, which I have a trick to
make probable.

DRY. And now I recall it to memory, I heard

i paritor] i. e. apparitor — a messenger employed to cite
persons to appear in the spiritual courts. The word is found
so contracted not only in prose but in verse :

" Belike thou art the Diuell's Parrator,
The basest officer that liues in Hell."

Wily Beguilde, sig. H 3, ed. 1623.

1 I play] Old ed. " he plaies."
* crier] Old ed. " parritor."

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 1?1

somewhat to that effect last night in master Beard-
bush the barber's shop : but how will this sort ?
who shall accuse him ?

GER. Refer that to me, I say, be that my care :
all shall end in merriment, and no disgrace touch
either of their reputations.

DRY. Then take both word and hand, 'tis done :
Club, mistress Purge's 'prentice, shall be the crier.e

GER. O my most precious Dryfat ! may none of
thy daughters prove vessels with foul bungholes,
or none of thy sons hogsheads, but all true and
honourable Dryfats like thyself !

DRY. Well, master Gerardine, I hope to see you
a Familist before I die.

GER. That's most likely, for I hold most of their
principles already : I never rail nor calumniate any
man but in love and charity ; I never cozen any
man for any ill will I bear him, but in love and
charity to myself; I never make my neighbour a
cuckold for any hate or malice I bear him, but in
love and charity to his wife.

DRY. And may those principles fructify in your
weak members ! I'll be gone, and with most quick
dexterity provide you a crier : to-morrow at my
house, said you, they should appear ?

GER. Be that the time, most honoured Dryfat :
but be this known to none, most loved sir, save
Club, or to some other whom your judgment shall
select as a fit person for our project.

1 crier"] Old ed. " sumner" — (i. e. apparitor). That the
alterations which I have made in this dialogue between Ge
rardine and Dryfat are absolutely necessary, will appear from
subsequent scenes. Of the " faults in the printing" Middleton
was aware : see his address To the Reader, p. 107 : he perhaps
had at first assigned the parts of paritor, crier, and proctor
differently ; and after he had made a new distribution of them,
neglected to alter this portion of the MS.

172 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

DRY. Thus enough : time out of sight.u [Exit.

GER. Maria, thou art mine : earth's perfection7
and nature's glory, woman ! of what an excellency
if her thoughts and acts were squared and levelled
with the first celsitudew of her creation !
T enjoy a creature, — whose dishevell'd locks,
Like gems against the repercussive sun,
Givex light and splendour ; whose star-like eyes
Attract more gazer lovesy to see them move
Than the Titanianz god, when JSgeon's hill
'A mounts in triumph ; a skin more pure and soft
Than is the silk-worm's bed ; teetha more white
Than new-fall'n snow or shining ivory, —
Is happiness sought by the gods themselves.
Celestial Venus, born without a mother,
Be thou propitious ! thee and I implore,
Not vulgar Venus, heaven's scorn and Mars his
whore. [Exit.

SCENE III.

A Room in GLISTER'S House.
Enter MISTRESS GLISTER and MARIA.

MAR. Good aunt, quiet yourself: ground not
upon dreams ; you know they are ever contrary.
Mis, G, Minion, minion, coin no excuses : I

u time out of sight] i. e. (I suppose) time that I was gone.

v perfection] Old ed. " affecton."

w celsitude~] i. e. height.

x Give] Old ed. " Giues."

y gazer loves] Qy. " gazers' love."

z Than the Titanian, &c.] Old ed.

" Then the Tartarians God, when first Egeons Hill."
JEgeon (or, as he was called by the gods, Briareus,) was
thrown under mount ^Etna.

a worm's bed; teeth] Old ed. "worme bed, to the,"

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 173

grant dreams are deceitful, but a true judgment
grounded upon knowledge never fails. What ?
have not I observed the rising and falling of the
blood, the coming and going of the countenance,
your qualms, your unlacings, your longings ? most
evident tokens ; besides, a more certain sign than
all these, too ; you know't, I need not speak it :
nay, I am as skilful in that point as my husband ;
I can tell you, Aristotle speaks English enough to
tell me these secrets. Body of me, so narrowly
looked to, and yet fly out ! Well, I see maids will
ha't in spite of laws or locks that restrain 'em ;
they will open, do men what they can.

MAR. I see my fault appears : simplicity
Hath no evasion ; 'tis bootless to deny
Where guilty blood, cited by touch of shame,
Runs through my veins, and leaves my conscience*

stain

Even in my face. Forbear, I do beseech you,
To publish my defame : what I have done
You shall not answer ; I must bear mine own.

Mis. G. Bear your own ? ay, marry, there it goes !
What must you bear ?

MAR. My sins, forsooth.

Mis. G. Your sins, forsooth ? Confess to me,
and go not about the bush : you have been doing,
that's flat ; you have caught a clap, that's round ;
and answer me roundly to the point, or else I'll
square.b Come, whose act is't ? I cannot devise
unless it be my husband's, for none else had access
to thee : I am sure time has turned his bald side
to thee, and I do but wonder how thou tookst
opportunity : speak, tell me.

MAR. Now, good aunt, press me not ; let time
reveal

b square} i. e. (I suppose) fall to quarrelling.

174 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

What you suspect ; for never shall my tongue
Confess an act that tends unto my wrong.

Enter GERARDINE, disguised as a porter.

Mis. G. Will you not bolt ? I must ha't out on
you, and will.

GER. By your leave, mistress -

Mis. G. Passion of my heart, what art thou ?

GER. No ghost, forsooth, though I appear in
white.

Mis. G. No, but a saucy knave, I perceive by
your manners.

GER. None of that livery neither : I am of the
bearing trade, forsooth ; you may see by my
smock, — frock, I would s.ay : I am, if it please
you, of the spick and span new-set-up company of
porters. Here's my breastplate ; and besides our
own arms, we have the arms of the city to help us
in our burdens — ecce signum ! here's the cross and
the sword of justice in good pewter, I can tell you,
which goes as current with us as better metal.

Mis. G. What's your name, sir ?

GER. Nicholas Nebulo : there's but a straw's-
breadth between that and the arms ; 'tis in the
backside of the cross here, and well known in the
city for an ancient name and an honest, an't like
your worship.

Mis. G.b You are none of the twelve, are you ?

GER. No, forsooth, but one of the twenty-
four -

Mis. G. Orders of knaves :c I thought so. Sirrah,

c Orders of knaves} Their number was 25 : see Brit. Bibliogr.
vol. ii. p. 16, where they are each reckoned up from a tract,
printed and probably compiled by Awdeley, called The Fra
ternity e of Facabondes, 8$c. Wherunto also is adioyned the xxv.
Orders of Knaues, otherwyse called a Quartern of Knaves, fyc.,
4to, the first ed. of which appeared in 1565 : see Typ. Antiq.
(ed. Dibdin), vol. iv. p. 564. b Mis, G.'] Old ed. " Mar.'"

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 175

you're a rascal, to come thus bluntly into my house
with your dirty startups :d get you without doors,
like a filthy fellow as you are ; a place more fit for
you.

GER. O, good words, mistress ! I may be warden
of my company for aught you know ; and for my
bluntness, we have a clause in our charter to war
rant that ; for as we bear, so likewise we may be
borne with, and have free egress and regress where
our business lies.

Mis. G. And what's your business here ?

GER. I have a letter, an't please you, to master
doctor.

Mis. G. From whence ? [Taking the letter.

GER. That I cannot shew your worship ; but I had
it of Curtal the carrier, whose lawful deputy I am.

Mis. G. Leave your scraping, sirrah. Fie, how
rank the knave smells of grease and taps-drop
pings ! [GERARDINE coughs and spits.~\ What, are
you rheumatic too, with a vengeance !

GER. Yes, indeed, mistress ; though I be but a
poor man, I have a spice of the gentleman in me :
master doctor could smell it quickly, because he's
a gentleman himself: I must to the diet, and that
is tobacco at the ale-house ; I use n'other physic
for it.

Mis. G. Did ever such a peasant defile my floor,
or breathe so near me ! — I'faith, sirrah, you would
be bummed for your roguery, if you were well
served.

GER. I am bummed well enough already, mis
tress ; look here else : sir-reverence6 in your wor-

d startups'] Were a sort of clumsy shoes with high tops,
worn by peasants. Cotgrave has " Guestres : Startups ; high
shooes, or gamashes for countrey folkes."

e sir-reverence'] A corruption of save -reverence, salva reve-
rentia : see Nares in v.

176 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

ship, master doctor's lips are not made of better
stuff.

Mis. G. What an impudent rogue is this! —
Sirrah, begone, I say ; I would be rid o' you.

GER. Be rid o' me ? I shall gallop then : you
mistake me, forsooth ; I am a foot post, I do not
use to ride.

Mis. G. I think the rascal be humorous or
drunk. Well, I will read the letter, and send him
packing, or else he will spew or do worse before
me : fie on him, I think he will infect me with
some filthy disease. [Reads the letter.

GER. Or else I lose mine aim. [Aside.

Mis. G. What's here? [Reads'] Your poor nurse,
Thomasine Tneedles ! f for my life now shall I find
out my husband's knavery I have so long sus
pected.

GER. She begins to nibble ; 'twill take, i'faith.

[Aside.
Mistress,

I see some discontentment in your looks :
Care ill befits so delicate a spirit ;
Be frolic, wench, for he that is so near thee
Has been much nearer.

MAR. That accent sounds sweet music ; 'tis my

love !

That tongue breathes life into my lifeless spirits :
Gerardine ? O rapture ! why thus disguis'd ?

GER. No more, be mute ; thus must I vary

forms

To bring our cares to end : her jealousy
Ensues this drift, which, if it take true scope,
Love's joy comes next : be fearless in that hope.

Mis. G. 'Tis so : rats-bane ! I ha't : it racks

f Tweedles] So the old ed. when the letter is afterwards
read : here " Sweedlesse."

THE FAMILY OF LOVE« 177

on, it torments me ! here 'tis : [reads} Woe north
the time that ever I gave suck to a child that came in
at the window, God knows how ! — Villanous lecher !
— yet, if you did but see how like the pertf little red
headed knave is to his father — damnable doctor ! a
bastard in the country, and another towards5 here !
I am out of doubt this is his work. — You are an
arrant strumpet! — Incest, fornication, abomination
in my own house ! intolerable ! O for long nails to
scratch out his eyes !

GER. Or the breeches, to fight with him.

Mis. G. Out of my sight, quean ! thou shalt to
Bridewell. — O, I shall be mad with rage !

GER. Then you shall go to Bedlam.

Mis. G. Hence, you slave !

GER. I must have a penny ; you must pay me
for my pains.

Mis. G. The devil pay thee !

GER. O, that's the doctor ; but he wants his
horns.

Mis. G. But I'll furnish him ere long, if I live.

GER. It works as I would wish. \_AsideJ] — Fare
well, Maria ;
This storm once past, fair weather ever after !

[Exit.

Mis. G. Was ever woman so moved ! — but you
shall be talked withal : and for mine old fornicator,
he shall ha't as hot as coals, i'faith : here's stuff
indeed ! Come, minx, come : there's law for you
both : have I found your knavery ? If I wink at
this, let me be stone blind, or stoned to death :
bear this, and bear all ! [Exeunt.

f pert} So old ed. afterwards : here it omits the word.
e towards] i. e. in a state of preparation, at hand.

178 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

SCENE IV.

A Street.

Enter LIPSALVE, GUDGEON, SHRIMP, and
PERIWINKLE.

LIP. Our hopes are cross'd : sure there's some

providence

Which countermands libidinous appetites,
For what we most intend is counter-check'd
By strange and unexpected accidents ;
For by disguise procuring full access,
Nay, ready to have seiz'dg th' expected prize,
The candle out, steps 'twix my hopes and me
Some peasant groom,h possess'd and full enjoy'd
That sweet for which our vigilant eyes have watch'd,
And in one moment frustrates all our hopes.

GUD. Upon my life, we are bewitched. The
greasy rascal that first seized mistress Purge, by
the last reflection of the light, appeared to my
sight not much unlike her husband.

LIP. The court's gall, the city's plague, and
Europa's sea-form1 be his perpetual crest, what-
e'er 'a was ! To lose mistress Purge for lack of
dexterity, is a disgrace insalveable : the like op
portunity will never present itself.

GUD. 'Twas an egregious grief, I must confess,
to see a knave slip betwixt us both and take occa
sion by the foretop : but since these projects have
had so star-cross events, let's lay some plot how to

* seiz'd] Old ed. " feard."
h peasant groom] Old ed. " pleasant Groine."
1 Europa's sea-form~] I can only explain these words by
supposing that they allude to Europa, as represented in an
cient gems and pictures, holding the bull by the horns, while
he bears her over the sea. Vide, for instance, the engraving
prefixed to Fischer's ed. of Palaephatus, 1772.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 179

revenge our late disgrace on the doctor by making
him cuckold.

Enter PURGE.

LIP. Agreed : but what melancholy sir, with
acrostic-" arms, now comes from the Family ?

GUD. Purge the 'pothecary : I prithee, let's step
aside and hear the issue of this discontent.

[ They retire with the two pages.

PUR. O the misery of married men's estate !

LIP. 'A begins very pitifully. [Aside.

PUR. O women, what are many of you !

LIP. Why, disease[s] to bachelors, and plagues
to married men. [Aside.

PUR. O marriage, the rage of all our miseries !
my wife is a dissembling strumpet.

GUD. So is many a man's besides yours ; and
what of that ? [Aside.

PUR. I would have a law, that all such which
pray little should instantly be married ; for then
would they pray continually, if it were but to be
rid of their wives.

LIP. This is a charitable request, and surely
would pass the Lower-house. [Aside.

PUR. Surely if affliction can bring a man to
heaven, I cannot see how any married man can be
damned : I have made myself a plain cuckold.

GUD. A pilek on ye, won't you ! had you not
been so man able,1 here are some would have saved
you that labour. [Aside.

PUR. What shall I do in this extremity ? had I
but witness of the fact, I would make her answer

j acrostic} i. e. crossed on his breast : perhaps some pun
is intended here.

k A pile, &c.] This speech has no prefix in the old ed.
1 manaUe] i. e. (I presume) bold, forward, ready.

180 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

it before authority. This is my wedding-ring ; 'tis
it, I know it by the posy : this I took from her
finger in the dark, and she was therewith very well
pleased : were not this, trow,1 a sufficient testi
mony ? she knows not that it was myself got so
near her : I will take counsel. Well, little know
bachelors the miseries they undergo when they
prostrate themselves to women.

LIP. [coming forward with GUDGEON] O most true,
master Purge ! little knows a man what elements
}a is to pass, when 'a puts his head under a woman's
girdle. Your passion,™ master Purge, is over
heard, and, plain tale to tell, we were eye-witnessed
of your wife's treachery, and if need be, will be
ready to depose as much.

PUR. What, master Lipsalve and master Gud
geon, are you disguised testimonies ?
Nay, then, revenge, look big ! Elf and fairy,
Help to revenge the wronged 'pothecary !

GUD. Why, now 'a speaks like himself: get me
a paritorn for her straight.

LIP. Conceal the ring, my little Purge ; let not
thy wife know thou hast it, until she comes to her
trial.

Enter DRYFAT, and GERARDINE disguised as an
apparitor.

PUR. Your advices are very pithy ; therefore
in private let me disclose my intent.
GUD, Off,0 boys!

[PURGE, LIPSALVE, and GUDGEON retire,

1 trow] See note, p. 26.
m passion] See note, p. 64.
n paritor~] See note, p. 170.

0 Gud. Off, &c.] Old ed. " Gud. Off boyes, Shrimpe what
dost thou," &c.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 181

SHR. What dost thou think of thy master ? is 'a
not a rare gull ?

PER. I think 'a will swallow and pocket more
disgraces than large-conscienced lawyer fees in a
Michaelmas term. Thy master, my honest Shrimp,?
comes not much short of a fool too, but that 'a is a
courtier.

SHR. Draw somewhat near, and overhear their
conference. [Retires with PERIWINKLE.

GER. This shape of the crier must Club to
morrow assume. Are you fitted for Poppin the
proctor ?

DRY. Excellent, and have spent some study in
the mystical cases of venery : I can describe how
often a man may lie with another man's wife before
'a come to the white sheet.

GER. How long is that ?

DRY. Why, till 'a be taken tardy : — how long all
womenkind may, by the statute, profess and swear
they are maids.

GER. And how long is that ?

DRY. Why, till their bellies be so big that it
cannot be no longer concealed : but come forward
towards Glister's.

LIP. It must be so ; let the sumner^ tickle her :
you shall bring in these allegations, and let us alone
to swear them. — [^Advancing with PURGE and GUD
GEON.] Who's this ? master Dryfat ? opportunely
met, sir : and whither so fast ? the news, the
news ?

DRY. Faith, gentlemen, I think to relate for
news what I hear of doctor Glister would come
stale to your hearings.

* Shrimp] Old ed. " Periwincle."
i sumner] See note, p. 29.
VOL. II. R

182 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

LIP. O, the getting of his niece with child : tut,
that's apparently known to all the company. — But,
in the name of Jupiter, what art thou, or from
whence earnest thou ?

GER. Why, sir, I come from compassing the
corners of the land.

GUD. Of what trade, in the name of Pluto ?

GER. Of the devil's trade ; for I live, as he
does, by the sins of the people ; in brief, sir, 1 am
Placket the paritor.r

LIP. As the devil would ! — We have, my noble
paritor, instant employment for thee ; a grey groat
is to be purchased without sneaking, my little
sumner : where's thy quorum nomina, my honest
Placket ?

GER. Sir, according to the old ballad,
My quorum nomina ready have /,
With my pen and inkhorn hanging by.
Her name, sir, her name ?

GUD. Is't no more but so ?

PUR. I have most right to her name. — Her name,
master Placket, is my wife, mistress Purge, sir :
to what place dost thou belong ?

GER. To the commissioners which sit to-morrow
at master Dryfat's upon the crimes of doctor Glister
and others.

LIP. Sits there a commission, Dryfat ? now, for
the love of lechery, let's have mistress Purge sum
moned thither.

GER. She makes my quorum nomina reasonable
full : my grant, sir, and she shall appear there
upon a crime of concupiscence : is not that your
meaning ?

PUR. Yes, my honest paritor : here's thy fee.

[Giving money.

r paritor'] See note, p. 170.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 183

Enter MISTRESS PURGE and CLUB.

GUD. And see how happily it succeeds ! mistress
Purge is new come from the Family. Let us step
aside, while Placket the paritor gives her a sum
mons.

LIP. Content. — To her, Placket; but see, for
the bribery of twelvepence, you strike her not out
of your quorum nomina.

GER. Fear not, sir.

[LIPSALVE, GUDGEON, PURGE, and
DRYFAT retire.

Mis. P. Forward apace, Club.

GER. Your name I take to be mistress Purge,
fair gentlewoman ?

Mis. P. I am mistress Purge, Purge's wife the
'pothecary : what of that ?

DRY. Now you shall see him tickle her with a
quorum nomina. [Aside.

GER. I cite you, by virtue of my quorum nominat
to make your personal appearance by eight of the
clock in the morrow morning, before certain com
missioners at master Dry fat's house, to answer to
an accusation of a crime of concupiscence.

Mis. P. To answer a crime of concupiscence ?
what's that, I pray ?

GER. Why, 'tis to answer a venereal crime, for
having carnal copulation with others besides your
husband.

Mis. P. What are you, I pray ?

GER. By name Placket, by trade a paritor.

Mis. P. And must I answer, say you, to a vene
real crime ? I tell thee, Placket the paritor, I am
able to answer thee or any man else in any venereal
crime they'll put me to ; and so tell your commis
sioners.

184 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

GER. If you fail your appearance, the penalty
must fall heavy.

Mis. P. If it fall never so heavy, I am able to
bear it : — and so set forward, Club.

[Exit with CLUB.

LIP. [coming forward with the others] Excellent,
i'faith ! — After your wife, Purge. — Read, Placket,
thy quorum nomina, my noble groat-monger.

[Exit PURGE.

GER. Silence ! The first that marcheth in this
fair rank is Thrum8 the feltmaker, for getting his
maid with child, and sending his 'prentice to Bride
well for the fact ; Whip the beadle, for letting a
punk escape for a night's lodging and bribe of ten
groats ; Bat the bellman, for lying with a wench in
a tailor's stall at midnight, when 'a should be per
forming his office ; and Tipple* the tapster, for
deflowering a virgin in his cellar ; doctor Glister,
his wife, Maria, mistress Purge : these be the com
plete number.

LIP. Now dissolve, and each to his occasion till
to-morrow morning. \_Exeunt severally.

ACT V. SCENE I.

A Room in GLISTER'S House.
Enter GLISTER and MISTRESS GLISTER.

Mis. G. This was your colour" to keep her close ;
but what cloak ha' you for her's and your own
shame ? What, your own niece, your brother's
daughter, besides your bastard in the country !

8 Thrum] Old ed. " Thum."

1 And Tipple, &c.] This part of Gerardine's speech is given
to " Gud." in the old ed. u colour] i. e. pretence.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 185

GLI. Wife, range not too far, I would advise
you ; come home in time : vex me not beyond
sufferance ; the two-edged sword of thy tongue
hath drawn blood o' me. Patience, I say : thou
art all this while in an error.

Mis. G. No, thou hast been all this while in
an urinal ; thou hast gone out of thy compass in
women's waters : you're a conjuror, forsooth, and
can rouse your spirits into circles. Ah, you old
fornicator, that ever I saw that red beard of thine !
now could I rail against thy complexion : I think,
in my conscience, the traces and caparison of
Venus' coach are made o' red hairs ; which may be
a true emblem that no flaxen stuff or tanned white
leather draws love like 'em : I think thou manu-
redest thy chin with the droppings of eggs and
muskadine before it bristled. A shame take thee
and thy loadstone ! But 'tis no matter ; master
Placket the paritoru has cited you, and you shall
answer it.

GLI. O the raging jealousy of a woman ! Do
you hear, wife ? I will shew myself a man of sense,
and answer you with silence ; or like a man of
wisdom, speak in brief: I say you are a scold, and
beware the cucking-stool.v [Exit.

Mis. G. I say you are a ninnihammer, and be
ware the cuckoo ; for as sure as I have ware, I'll
traffic with the next merchant venturer : and in
good time here comew gallants of the right trade.

u paritor~] See note, p. 170.

T cucking-stool"} i. e. a stool or chair at the end of a long
pole, in which scolds, &c. being placed, were plunged into
some muddy pool or stinking pond : see Brand's Pop. Antiq,
vol. ii. p. 441, ed. 1813.

w come} Old ed. " comes."

186 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

Enter LIPSALVE and GUDGEON, and GLISTER
behind watching them.

LIP. All alone, mistress Glister ? meditating who
shall be your next child's father ?

GUD. Indeed, methinks, that should be one end
of her thought, an't be but to cry quittance with
her husband, of whose abuse the town rings.

GLI. Flax and fire, flax and fire ! here are fellows
come in the nick, to light their matches at my
tinder. \_Aside.

LIP. He tells you true, mistress Glister : the
doctor hath made you ordinary in our ordinaries ;
satires whet their tooths, and steep rods in piss,
epigrams lie in poetry's pickle, and we shall have
rhyme out of all reason against you.

GUD. Ere long he will take up his station at a
stationer's, where we shall see him do penance in a
sheet at least.

Mis. G. O, I am nettled ! my patience is so pro
voked, that I must doff my modesty : what shall I
do ? if ye be honest gentlemen, counsel me in my
revenge, teach me what to do, make my case your
own.

LIP. Why, you are in the common road of re
venge : take which hand you will, you cannot go
out o' your way ; 'tis as soon taken as time by his
forepart.

GUD. Faith, since he has strook with the sword,
strike you with the scabbard ; in plain terms,
cuckold him : you may as easily do't as lie down
o' your bed.

GLI. This gear cottens,* i'faith. \Aside.

Mis. G. I apprehend you, gentlemen. Lord,

x this gear cottens] See notes, p. 150, 155.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 187

how much better are two heads than one to make
one large head !

LIP. You say true, mistress Glister : there's help
required in grafting ; and how happily we come to
tender our service ! Let our pretence be to take
physic of the doctor ; and that he may with as
much ease minister to us as we to you, we'll take a
lodging in his house.

GUD. How say you to this ? is the colour? good ?
does't like2 you ?

Mis. G. passing well : the colour is so good,
that you shall wear my favour out o' the same
piece.

LIP. Excellent, excellent ! — Now shall we be re
venged for the whipping. — Mistress Glister, let me
be your first man.

GUD. Nay, soft, sir, I plied her as soon as you.

GLI. I should have an oar in her boat too by
right. [Aside.

LIP. How ill-advised were you to marry one
with a red beard !

Mis. G. O master Lipsalve, I am not the first
that has fallen under that ensign ! there's no com
plexion more attractive in this time for women
than gold and red beards : such men are all liver. a

GUD. Ay, but small heart, and less honesty 7 ""

LIP. Yes, they are honest too in some kind, for
they'll beg before they'll steal.

GUD. That's true ; for, for one that holds up his
hand at the sessions, you shall have ten come into
the bawdy court.

GLI. Was ever beard so back-bitten ? this were
enough to make red beards turn medley, and dash
'em clean out of countenance ; but I hope, like

r colour} See note, p. 184. z like] See note, p. 113.

* liver] See note, p. 133.

188 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

mine, they fear no colours. Anda you were ten
courtiers, I'll front you : I must give you physic,
with a pox ! well, if I pepper ye not, call me
doctor Doddipoll.b \_Aside.~\ — Master Lipsalve and
master Gudgeon, you are heartily welcome ; I am
very glad to see you well.

LIP. O master doctor, your salutation is very
suspicious !

GLI. Why, master Lipsalve ?

LIP. It can scarce be hearty, for physicians are
rather glad to see men ill than well.

GLI. Not so, sir ; you must distinguish of men ;
though this I know, virtue is not the end of all
science, which commonly keeps the professor poor ;
some study questuaryc and gainful arts, and every
one would thrive in's calling : but, i'faith, gentle
men, what wind drives you hither ?

GUD. The wind -colic, master doctor, or some
such disease.

GLI. But not the stone-colic ?

LIP. O no, sir, we have no obstructions in those
parts ; we are loose enough there.

GLI. If you were troubled with that, my wife
can tell you of an excellent remedy.

GUD. We need it not, we need it not : but in
deed, master doctor, for some private infirmities
(which our waters shall make known to you), we
desire to take some physic of you for a few days ;
and to that end we would take a lodging in your
house during the time.

LIP. Shall we entreat your favour ?

a and~\ i. e. if.

b doctor Doddipolf] Is a ridiculous character in an old play
called The Wisdome of Doctor Dodypoll, printed 1600 ; but the
term is found long before that date : doddipoll is dunder
head.

c questuary~\ i. e. profitable.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 189

GLI. No entreaty, gentlemen ; you shall com
mand me to search the very profundity of my skill
for you. — Have them in, wife, and shew them their
lodging. — I will think upon another receipt, and
follow you immediately.

GUD. And, i'faith, we shall requite your pains to
the full.

[Exeunt Mis. GLISTER, LIPSALVE, and GUDGEON.

GLI. To the fool, you mean : I know you ha'
the horn of plenty for me, which you would derive
unto me from the liberality of your bawdies,c not
your minds. Here are lords that, having learned
the O P Q of courtship, travel up and down among
citizens' wives, to shew their learning and bringing
up ; as if the city were not already a good pro
ficient in the court horn-book : yes, I warrant,
they have heads as capable as other men ; ay, and
some of them can wisely say with the philosopher,
that in knowing all, they know nothing. Well,
because I am of the livery, and pay scot and lot
amongst you, do but observe how I'll fetch over
my gallants for your sakes. They say I am of the
right hair ; and, indeed, they may stand to't, and
hold the position good, saving with my wife. —
Soft ; are they not at pro and contra already ? I
know they are hot-spurs, and I must have an eye
to the main. They have been whipt already for
lechery, and yet the pride of the flesh pricks 'em. '
Well, I must in : I'ved given them such a pill
Shall take 'em down ; for lust must have his fill.

[Exit.

e baiudies] See the same miserable pun, vol. i. p. 245.
d I've] Old ed. " I have."

190 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

SCENE II.

Another Room in GLISTER'S House.
Enter MARIA above.d

MAR. Now nature's pencil and the hand of time
Give6 life and limb to generation's act,
My shame and guilt in wordless notes appear,
The argument of scorn. O now I stand
The theme and comment to each liberalf tongue,
Whilst hope breeds comfort, and fear threats my
wrong !

0 Gerardine, how oft thy lively figure,
Deeplyg impressed in my yielding temper,
Assures me thou art mine ! how fancy paints
Thy true proportion in my troubled sleep,
Because sole subject of my daily thoughts !
O, if thy vows prove feign'd and thou unjust,

1 say and swear in men there is no trust !

Enter GERARDINE.

GER. Thus have I past the roundh and court of

guard,
Without the word i1 either conceit is strong,

d Enter Maria above} So the old ed. ; and we must suppose
that she is standing in a gallery : the first words of Gerard-
ine's speech on entering shew that this scene takes place
within the house : compare p. 159, where Glister appears
" above," within the house.

e Give] Old ed. "Giues." f liberal] i. e. licentious.

« Deeply] Old ed. " Deadly."

h the round] Certain soldiers of inferior rank (only above
the lancepesado), whose office was to go round and inspect
the sentinels, watches, and advanced guard, were called gen
tlemen of the round : see Whalley's note in Gilford's ed. of
B. Jonson's Works, vol. i. p. 85.

J word] i. e. watchword.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 191

Or else the body where true love's confin'd
Walks as a spirit and doth force his way
Through greatest dangers, frightful to those eyes
That wait to intercept him. — Maria ?
How like to Cynthia, in her silver orb,
She seems to me, attended by love's lamp,
Whose mutual influence and soul's sympathy
Do-J shew heaven's model in mortality.

MAR. Gerardine ?

Aurora, now the blushing sun approaches,11
Dartfs] not more comfort to this universe
Than thou to me : most acceptably come !
The art of number cannot count the hours
Thou hast been absent.

GER. Infinity of love
Holds no proportion with arithmetic.
Think not, Maria, but my heart retains
A deep impression of such thoughts as these.
I have been forging of a mirthful plot
To celebrate our wish'd conjunction,
Which now digested, come to summon thee
To be an actress in the comedy.

MAR. How, where, when ? speak, mine ears are

quick to hear ;
I stand on thorns already to be there.

GER. At Dryfat's house, the merchant, there's

our scene,

Whose sequel, if I fail not in intent,
Shall answer our desires and each content.
But when sawest thou Lipsalve and Gudgeon, our
two gallants ?

MAR. They are here in the house, so handled by

J Do] Old ed. " Doth."

k sun approaches'] Old ed. " sons aproache :" but I suspect
that the whole line is corrupted, and that the epithet " blush
ing" belongs to "Aurora."

192 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

mine uncle, that they are the pitifullest patients
that ever you beheld.

GER. No matter, he serves them in their kind :
they were infamous in the court, and now are
grown as notorious in the city : they may happily

Erove particles in our sport, and fit subjects for
tughter.

Time calls me hence : adieu ; prepare to meet.
MAR. I shall outstrip the nimblest in my feet.

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE III.

A Room in DRYFAT'S House.

Enter DRY FAT disguised as a proctor, and CLUB as
a crier.

DRY. Come, Club, come, there's a merry fray
towards j1 we shall see the death of melancholy ^
wherein thou and I must call a grand jury of jests
together, and pass upon them with the club law.

CLUB. Now, as I am O the crier, and yet but a
young club, I have not yet practised that law :
you have a whole dryfat on't ; I pray you, instruct
me.

DRY. Why, 'tis a law enacted, by the common
council of statute-caps,™ to qualify the rage of the
time, to follow, to call back, and sometimes to en
counter gentlemen when they run in arrearages ;
I tell thee, there's no averment against our book
cases. 'Tis the law called make-peace: it makes

1 towards} See note, p. 177.

m statute-caps] i. e. citizens, who, according to a statute of
Elizabeth in behalf of the trade of cappers, wore, on Sabbath
days and holydays, caps of wool. See the notes of the com
mentators on " Well, better wits have worn plain statute-
caps." — SHAKESPEARE'S Love's Labour's Lost, act v. sc. 2.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 193

them even when they are at odds ; it shews 'em a
flat case as plain as a pack-staff, that is, knocks
'em down without circumstance.

CLUB. Ay, marry, I like' that law well ; 'tis
studied with the turning of a hand : there's no
quiddits nor pedlar's Frenchk in't ; there needs no
book for th' exposition o' th' terms ; 'tis as easily
learned as the felling of wood and getting of
children ; all is but laying on load the downright
blow.

DRY. Ay, and by the way of exhortation it prints
this moral sentence on their costards,1 in capital
letters, Agree, for the law is costly.

CLUB. Good, good : but all this while there's no
doctor thought on ; we must have one to arbitrate.

DRY. Why, master Gerardine, man, has his name
for the purpose : he shall be called doctor Stickler :
lupus est infabula, here he comes.

Enter GERARDINE.

GER. How now, lads? does our conceit cotten?m
ha' you summoned your wits from woolgathering ?
are you fraught with matter for this merriment ?

DRY. Full, full : we are in labour, man, and we
shall die without midwifery.

CLUB. We are ravished with delight, like the
wench that was got with child against her stomach.
O, butn if we could wrest this smock-law now in
hand to our club-law, it were excellent !

DRY. Easily, easily : all shall be called the club-
law.

GER. As how ?

k pedlar's French"] i. e. unintelligible jargon. It is, pro
perly, the cant language of vagabonds.

1 costards'] i. e. heads. m cotten] See note, p. 150.

n O, but, &c.] Qy. ought this to be given to Gerardine ? *
VOL. II. S

194 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

DRY. Why, thus. Club is the crier ; I am
Poppinn the proctor ; and you Stickler the doctor :
he calls them to appear ; I must be of their counsel,
and you must attone them.0 We may know their
cases and be in their elements, mark you me, but
they cannot be in ours. Tut, none knows our
secrets : we can speak fustian above their under
standing, and make asses' ears attentive. I'll play
Ambidexter,? tell 'em 'tis a plain case, and put 'em
down with the club-law ; so that, as Club said well
e'en now, our knavery is as near allied as felling
of wood and getting of children.

GER. Excellent, excellent ! By this they are
at hand : let's bear these things like ourselves :
I'll withdraw and put on my habiliments, and then
enter for the doctor.

DRY. Do so : they come, they come.

\_Exit GERARDINE.

Enter GLISTER and PURGE.

Welcome, master doctor Glister and master Purge :
there's a commission to be sat upon this day, to

n Poppin] So some copies of the old ed., others "Exigent:"
though there is certainly but one impression of this play : see
p. 103. Middleton (who did not superintend the printing of
it, see p. 107) had dismissed the name Exigent for that of
Poppin, or vice versa ; and his uncorrected MS., where Dryfat
was sometimes called by one name, sometimes by the other,
was followed by the printer. This, however, is the only place
in which the copies (at least those that I have seen) differ
from each other with respect to these names ; an alteration
having been made here after part of the impression had been
worked off. I have retained the name Poppin throughout.

0 attone them~\ Attone or atone is — reconcile, set them at one.
— Old ed. " attone them put hem together :" but see notes,
pp. 134, 162.

P play Ambidexter] So in Nash's Pierce Pennilesse ; " it is
like inough he is playing Ambidexter amongst them." Sig. B,
ed. 1595. The allusion is to Preston's Cambises King ofPercia,

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 195

open a passage for imprisoned truth, concerning
acts yet in tenebris.

GLI. True ; I am brought hither by the malice
of my wife.

PUR. And I have a just appeal against my wife.

GLI. Master Poppin^ — so I think you are called
— I understand you have the law at your fingers'
ends.

DRY. I can box cases, and scold and scratch it
out amongst them.

GLI. Indeed, fame reports you to be a good
trumpeter of causes : I must retain you, sir, to
sound mine.

DRY. My sackbut shall do it most pathetically :
tell me, in brief, the nature of your case.

GLI. Faith, sir, a scandalous letter devised to
wrong my reputation, about a bastard in the
country which should be mine.

DRY. About a bastard in the country which
should be yours ? hum, — 'tis very like you thenj
it should seem.

GLI. O no, sir! understand me, only fathered
upon me.

DRY. Only fathered upon you cum nemini* obtrudi
potest : I understand you, and like you well too,
you do not flatter yourself in your own case, no,
'tis not good : well, what more ?

GLI. And about my niece, got with child in my
own house.

n. d. (written about the beginning of Elizabeth's reign), in
which the Vice is named Ambidexter. This " lamentable tra-
gedie mixed full of plesant mirth" is reprinted in the first vol.
of Hawkins's Origin of the English Drama.

i Poppin] Old ed. " Exigent :" see note, p. 194.

T cum nemini, &c.] — " ea, quoniam nemini obtrudi potest,
Itur ad me." Ter. And. i. 5, 15.

196 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

DRY. Byrlady,8 burdens of some weight, which
you make light of! you deny?

GLI. What else, sir ? I have reason.

DRY. I know it well, I take you for no beast :
believe me, master doctor, denial and reason are
two main grounds ; stand upon them, and you
cannot err. — Your case, master Purge ?

PUR. First take your fee, master Popping that
you may have the more feeling, and urge it home
when you come to't. [Gives money. ~\ Mine is a dis
covery of my wife's iniquity at the Family of Love.

DRY. Otherwise called the House of Venery,
where they hunger and thirst for't.

PUR. True, sir : you have heard of the Hole in
the Wall, where they assemble together in the day
time, like so many bees under a hive ?

DRY. Come home crura thymo plena, and lodge
among hornets, is't not so ?

PUR. I cannot tell, sir; but, for my part, I am
much noted as I go.

DRY. No doubt of that, sir ; your wife can fur
nish you with notes out of her cotatiojis.u

CLUB. Ay, and give him a two-tagged pointv to
tie 'em together.

DRY. But how came you to detect her ?

PUR. Why, thus, sir : getting the word, I dogged
her to the Family, where, closing with her, I whis
pered so pleasing a tale in her ear, that I got from
her her wedding-ring ; and here 'tis.

DRY. Well, out of that ring we will wring matter
that shall carry meat i' th' mouth. But what wit-

s Eyrlady\ See note, p. 66.
1 Poppin] Old ed. " Exigent :" see note, p. 194.
u cotations] i. e. quotations — memoranda of what she had
heard at the meetings of the Family.
v tagged point} See note, vol. i. p. 244.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 197

ness or proof can you produce to make good your
wife's iniquity and your own cuckoldry ?

PUR. Master Lipsalve and master Gudgeon, who
were her companions at that same time.

DRY. Very good. — Are they cited in the quorum

nomina

CLUB. They will be here, sir.

GLI. If they be, they will bewrayx all.

DRY. So much the better ; 'twill savour well for
master Purge.

PUR. You understand my case now ?

GLI. And mine too, sir ?

DRY. I do, I do : they are as different as a doctor
and a dunce, a man and a beast : here's the com
pendium ; yours, master doctor, stands upon the
negative ; and yours, master Purge, upon the affir
mative : pauca sapienti, I ha't, I ha't.

PUR. Mine is very current, sir ; I can shew you
good guilt.

DRY. Ay, marry, there spoke an angel ;? gilt's2
current, indeed : let me feel't, let me feel't.

PUR. I mean, my wife's guilt.

GLI. Master Poppin, you shall have innocence
to speak for me.

DRY. Tut, innocence is a fool, I care not for's
company ; I can speak enough without him.

GLI. Then, I hope, you will be as good to us as
the five-finger at maw.a

x bewray all, &c.] The same play on words occurs in vol. i.
p. 294, where see note.

y angel] See note, vol. i. p. 250.

z gilt's, &c.] Gilt or gelt, i. e. gold, money.

a five-finger at maw} " For my game [at maw] stood, me
thought, upon my last two tricks, when I made sure of the
set, and yet lost it, hauing the varlet and the fine finger to
make two tricks." Chapman's May Day, 1611, p. 76. — For
some account of maw, see Singer's Researches into the Hist, of
Playing Cards, p. 258, sqq.

198 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

DRY. No, rather as Hercules, to lip-labour 'em
with the club-law : tut, let me alone.

Enter MISTRESS GLISTER, MISTRESS PURGE, and
MARIA.

Mis. G. O, are you here, sir ? I have brought
you a full barn to glut your greedy appetite : if
you have any maw, feed here till you choke again.
Now shall I see the whole carcass of your knavery
ript up : if thou hast any grace, now will thy red
beard turn white upon't.

Mis. P. O how have I been toss'd from post to

pillar

In this libidinous world ! The yoke I bear
Is so uneven, as if an innocent lamb
And a mad hare-brain'd ox should draw together :
But I must have patience, there's no remedy.

DRY. There's some difference between these two
tempers.

GLI. I would give a hundred pounds my wife
had so gentle a spirit. {Aside.

PUR. My wife must needs be gentle, for she can
bear double. [Aside.

Re-enter GERARDINE, disguised as a doctor.

DRY. Here comes master doctor : now rig up
your vessels, every one to his tackling.

GER. Good day to all at once, and peace amongst

you !—

Fie, how I sweat ! I think Vulcan ne'er toiled so
at his anvil as I have done, and all to make maid's
water to slake Cupid's fire, and to turn his shafts
from the feather-bed to the bed -post, from the
heart to the heel. —
Come, master Poppin, shall we to this gear ?b

b gear~\ See note, p. 155.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 199

DRY. Reverend doctor, we have stayed your
coming. — Crier, cry silence.

CLUB. Silence!0

DRY. Master doctor, I have heard in general
terms the tales of master doctor Glister and master
Purge, which have in mutual manner jumped into
the quagmire of my mind ; out of which quagmire,
by your enforcement and mine own duty, I pluck
them up by the ears, and thus, in naked appar-
ance,d I present them.

GER. Ad rem, ad rem, master Poppin ; leave
your allegories, your metaphors, and circumlo
cutions, and to the point.

DRY. Then briefly thus : I have compared their
tales, — how short they will come of their wives' I
know not : and first for mistress Purge. — Crier,
call mistress Purge.

CLUB. Rebecca Purge, wife to Peter Purge, 'po-
thecary, appear upon thy purgation, upon pain of
excommunication.

Mis. P. Here I am, — O time's impiety ! —
Hither I come from out the harmless fold
To have my good name eaten up by wolves :
See, how they grin ! Well, the weak must to the

wall ;
1 must bear wrong, but shame shall them befall.

GER. Who is her accuser ?

DRY. Her own husband, upon the late discovery
of a crew of narrow-ruffed,6 strait-laced, yet loose-

e Club. Silence!] Old ed. has only the stage -direction,
" He cries.'''

d apparance~] See note, p. 119.

e narrow-ruffed] Some copies of old ed. " narrow rusty,"
others "narrow ruste:" yet there is but one impression of
the play: see p. 103. Compare what Gudgeon says of mis
tress Purge's " ruffs," p. 131.

200 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

bodied dames, with a routf of omnium-gatherums,
assembled by the title of the Family of Love :
which, master doctor, if they be not punished and
suppressed by our club-law, each man's copyhold
will become freehold, specialities will turn to gene
ralities, and so from unity to parity, from parity to
plurality, and from plurality to universality ; their
wives, the only ornaments of their houses, and of
all their wares, goods, and chattel[s], the chief
moveables, will be made common.

PUR. Most voluble and eloquent proctor !

GER. Byrlady,s these enormities must and shall
be redressed, otherwise I see their charter will be
infringed, and their ancient staff of government
the club, from whence we derive our law of casti-
gation, — this club, I say (they seeming nothing less
than men by their fore-part), will be turned upon
their own heads. — Speak, Rebecca Purge ; art thou
one of this Family ? hast thou ever known the body
of any man there or elsewhere concupiscentically ?

Mis. P. No, master doctor, those are but de
vices of the wicked to trap the innocent ; but I
thank my spirit I have fear before my eyes, which
my husband sees not, because something hangs in's
light.

PUR. That's my horns ; she flouts me to my
face, and I will not endure it : I shall carry her
mark to my grave. [Aside.] — Master doctor, she
has given me that, that ^Esculapius, were he now
extant, could not heal, nor edax rerumh take
away.

GER. Produce your witness, master Purge, and
blow not your own horn.

£ rout'] i. e. rabble.

% Byrlady~] See note, p. 66.

h edax rerum~\ scil. tempus.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 201

PUR. Master Lipsalve and master Gudgeon, let
them be called.

CLUB. Lawrence Lipsalve and Gregory Gudgeon,
late of hie et ublque, in the county of nusquam, gen
tlemen, come into the court and give your evidence,
upon pain of that which shall ensue.

Enter LIPSALVE and GUDGEON.

GLI. Here they come, in pain I warrant them.—
How works your physic, gallants ? do you go well
to the ground ? now cuckold the doctor ! — Wife,
who's your first man now? — now strike1 with the
scabbard ! ha, ha, ha !

GUD. A villanous doctor !

LIP. Mountebank, you're a rascal, and we will
cast aboutJ to be revenged.

DRY. Cast about this way and bewrayk what you
can concerning mistress Purge, who stands here
upon her purgation, either to prove mundified or
contaminated, according to the tenor-piece of your
principal evidence. — First give 'em the book.

CLUB. Come, lay your hands upon the book :
you shall speak and aver no more, nor wade no
farther into the cream-pots of this woman's crime,
than the naked truth and the cart-rope of your
conscience shall conduct you, so help you the con
tents ! Kiss the book.1

LIP. Alas, we are not in case to answer largely !
but if you will have our evidence in brief, I think
I kissed her at the Family some three times, once

1 now strike, Sic.] See p. 186.

J cast about] i. e. devise. Dryfat puns on the word cast, as
meaning to vomit.

k bewray'] See note, p. 197.

1 Kiss the book'] Is, perhaps, only a stage-direction.

202 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

at coming, once at going, and once in the midst ;
otherwise never knew her dishonestly.

PUR. Ay, mark that middle kiss, master doctor.

GUD. And for my part, I have been more mor
tified by her than ever I was provoked.

GER. How say you to this, master Purge ? your
witness is weak, and, sir-reverence111 on['t], without
sounder proof, they may depart to the close-stool
whence they came, and you to your 'pothecary's
shop.

PUR. No, master doctor, I have another bolt to
shoot that shall strike her dead ; she shall not have
a word to say.

DRY. Answer me to this, mistress Purge ; where's
your wedding-ring ?

Mis. P. My wedding-ring ? why, what should I
do with unnecessary things about me, when the
poor begs at my gate ready to starve ? Is it not
better, as I learned last lecture, to send my sub
stance before me, where I may find it, than to
leave it behind me, where I must forego it ? Yes,
verily : wherefore, to put you out of doubt, I have
given that ring to charitable uses.

DRY. Nay, now she falters : my client can shew
that ring, got from her at the Family, when these
two courtling[s] had at the same time beleaguered
her fort.

GER. This alters the case clean. — What starting-
hole ha' you now, mistress Purge ?

Mis. P. E'en the sanctuary of a safe conscience :
now, truly, truly, however he came by that ring,
by my sisterhood, I gave it to the relief of the dis-
tcejjsed Geneva.

PUR, How ? to the relief of the distressed

m sir-reverence'] See note, p. 175.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 203

Geneva ? — Justice, master doctor ! I may now
decline victus, victa, victum ; one word more shall
overthrow her. I myself was a Familist that day,
who, more jealous than zealous in devotion, thrust
in amongst the rest (as I had most right), on pur
pose to sound her, to find out the knavery : short
tale to make, I got her ring, and here it is ; let her
deny it if she can : and what more I discovered
non est nunc narrandi locus.

Mis. P. Husband, I see you are hoodwinked in
the right use of feeling and knowledge, — as if I
knew you notn then as well as the child knows his
own father ! Look in the posy of my ring : does
it not tell you that we two are one flesh ? and hath
not fellow-feeling taught us to know one another
as well by night as by day ? Husband, husband,
will you do as the blind jade, break your neck
down a hill because you see it not ? ha' you no
light of nature in that flesh of yours ? — Now, as
true as I live, master doctor, I had a secret opera
tion, and I knew him then to be my husband e'en
by very instinct.

PUR. Impudence, dost not blush ? art not ashamed
to lie so abominable ?

Mis. P. No, husband, rather be you ashamed of
your own weakness ; for, for my part, I neither
fear nor shame what man can do unto me.

GER. Master Purge, I see you have spent your
pith ; therefore best make a full point at the ring,
and attend our pleasure.— Master Poppin,0 proceed
to the rest.

DRY. Crier, call doctor Glister.

n as if I knew you not} Imitated from Falstaff's " I knew
ye, as well as he that made ye." SHAKESPEARE'S Henry IV.
Part I. act ii. sc. 4.

0 Poppin] Old ed. " Exigent :" see note, p. 194.

204 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

CLUB. Doctor Glister, alias suppositor doctor?
of physic, appear upon thy purgation, upon the
belly-pain that may ensue thereon. <*

GLI. Here, master doctor.

GER. Who is his accuser ?

DRY. His clamorous wife, who seems to enforce
a separation about a bastard in the country, which
should be his, only fathered upon him.

GER. What proof of that ?

Mis. G. Proof unanswerable, master doctor, the
nurse's letter : let it be read ; but first observe his
countenance ; it may be his blushing will bewray
his guilt.

GER. Now, by this light, I thought it had in
deed, but I see 'tis but the reflection of his beard.
— Read the letter, master Poppin.1"

DRY.S [reads] After my hearty commendations re
membered unto your worshipful doctor ship, trusting in
God that you are as well as I was at the making
hereof, thanks be to him therefor ! the cause of my
writing unto you at this time is to let you understand
that your little son is turned a ragged colt, a very
stripling ; for, being now stript of all his clothing,
his backside wants a tail-piece, commends itself to
your fatherly consideration. Woe worth \lie time that
ever I gave suck to a child that came in at the window,
God knows how I Yet if you did but see how like the
pert, little, red-headed knave is to his father, and how
like a cock-sparrow he mouses and touses my little
Bess already, you would take him for your own, and
pay me my hire. I write not of the want of one thing,
for I want all things; wherefore take some speedy

p suppositor doctor~\ See note, p. 161.

i thereon] Old ed. " therein."

r Poppin] Old ed. " Exigent:" see note, p. 194.

s Dry.] Old ed. " Club:1

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 205

order, or else as naked as he came from the mother
will I send him to the father. From Pis.9 the xxii
of- Your poor nurse, THOMASINE TWEEDLES.

GLI. Master doctor, truth needs not the foil of
rhetoric ; I will only in monosyllaba answer for my
self (as sometimes a wise man did) : such and such
things are laid to my charge, which I deny ; you
may think of me what you please, but I am as
innocent in this as the child new-born.

GER. Why, there's partly a confession : the child,
we know, is innocent, and not new-born neither,
for it should seem by the letter he is able to call
his dad knave.

GLI. You take me wrong, master doctor.4

DRY. Under correction, thus much can I say for
my client's justification. Indeed he hath travelled
well in the beating of pulses, and hath been much
conversant in women's Jordans ; but he had ever a
care to raise his patient being before cast down ;
his charitable disposition hath been such to poor
folk, that he never took above fourpence for the
casting of a water, which good custom was so well
known among all his patients, that if sixpence were
at any time offered him, they might be bold to ask
and have twopence again. He hath been so skilful
and painful withal in the cure of the green sickness,
that, of my knowledge, he hath risen at all hours in
the night to pleasure maids that have had it : and
for that foul-mouthed disease, termed by a fine
phrase — a pox on't, what d'ye call't? O, the grin-
comes" — at that he hath played his doctor's prize,
and writes nil ultra to all mountebanks ; so that
the wise woman in Pissing -Alley, nor she in
Do-little-Lane, are more famous for good deeds

8 Pis.'] What place is indicated by this abbreviation, I
cannot pretend to determine.

* doctor] Old ed. " proctor" — but that part is assumed by
Dryfat. u grincomes] See note, p. 121.

VOL. II. T

206 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

than he. Then, master doctor, out of these pre
sumptions, besides his flat denial (a more infallible
ground), you may gather his innocence, and let him
have his purgation.

GER. No, master Poppin,u it is not so to be
foisted off.

Mis. G. Nay, master doctor, what say you to
his own niece, that looks big upon him ? an arrow
that sticks for the upshot against all comers ; which
by his restraint of her from master Gerardine, an
honest gentleman that loved her, and upon that
colourv from the sight and intercourse of other
men, must, by all presumptions, be his own act.

GER. O monstrous ! this is a foul blot in your
tablesw indeed.

GLI. Wife, thou hast no shame nor womanhood
in thee ; thy conscience knows me.

Mis. G. True of thy flesh, who knows not that ?
thy beard speaks for thee : ay, ay, thou liest by me
like a stone, but abroad thou'rt like a stone-horse,
you old limb-lifter !x

DRY. Cease your clamour, and attend my speech.
— Most worshipful, reverend, and judicial doctor,
for the quickening of your memory, I will give you
a breviat of all that hath been spoken. Master
doctor Glister hath a cradleful and a bellyful, you
see, thrust upon him ; and master Purge a head-
ful. — Your wife is an angry honeyless wasp, whose
sting, I hope, you need not fear, — and yours carries
honey in her mouth, but her sting makes your fore
head swell: — your wife makes you deaf with the

u Popping Old ed. " Exigent :" see note, p. 149.

v colour] See note, p. 184.

w blot in your tables'] An expression drawn from games
played with the tables: "beware of blotting," says the Com
plete Gamester, p. 155, ed. 1674.

x limb-lifter'] Old ed. "Timelifter :" but compare A Hande-
full of Pleasant Delites, &c., 1584, " a lustie Urn lifter," p. 18,
reprint.

THE FAMILY OF LOVE. 207

shrill treble of her tongue, — and yours makes you
horn-mad with the tenor of her tale. — In fine,
master doctor's refuge is his conscience, and master
Purge runs at his wife's ring.w

GER. Summa totalis, a good audit ha' you made,
master Poppin.x — Now attend my arbitrement.
For you, gallants, though you have incurred the
danger of the law by using counterfeit keys, and
putting your hands into the wrong pocket, yet be
cause I see you punished and purged already, my
advice is, that you learn the A B C of better man
ners : go back and tell how you have been used in
the city ; and being thus scoured, keep yourselves
clean, and the bed undefiled. — For you, master
Purge, because I see your evidence insufficient,
and indeed too weak, to foil your wife's upright
ness, and seeing jealousy and unkindness have? only
made her a stranger in your land of Ham, my
counsel is, that you readvance your standard, give
her new press-money,

PUR. You may enjoin me, sir, but

GER. But not at me, man : I will enjoin you, and
conjoin you, and briefly thus. You have your ring
that has made this combustion and uproar : that
keep still ; wear it ; and here, by my edict, be it
proclaimed to all that are jealous, to wear their
wives' ringfs] still on their fingers, as best for their
security, and the only charm against cuckoldry.

PUR. Then, wife, at master doctor's enjoinment,2
so thou wilt promise me to come no more at the
Family, I receive thee into the lists of my favour.

Mis. P. Truly, husband, my love must be free
still to God's creatures: yea, nevertheless, pre-

w runs at his wife's ring] See note, vol. i. p.
x Poppin] Old ed. " Exigent :" see note, p.
y have] Olded. "hath."
*• enjoinment] Old ed. " enioyntment."

390.
194.

208 THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

serving you still as the head of my body, I will do
as the spirit shall enable me.

GER. Go to, thou hast a good wife, and there['s]
an end. — Upon you, master doctor, being solicited
by so apparent proof, I can do no less than pro
nounce a severe sentence ; and yet, i'faith, the
reverence of your calling and profession doth
somewhat check my austerity : what if master
Gerardine, by my persuasion, would yet be in
duced to take your niece, and father the child ?
would you launch with a thousand pound, besides
her father's portion ?

GLI. Master doctor, I would, were it but to re
deem her lost good name.

GER. Then, foreknowing what would happen, I
thought good, in master Gerardine's name, to have
this bond ready, which if you seal to, he shall take
her with all faults.

GLI. That will I instantly. [Seals the bond.~\
So, this is done ; which, together with my niece,
do I deliver by these presents to the use of master
Gerardine.

GER. He thanks you heartily, and lets you know,
[GERARDINE, DRYFAT, and CLUB discover

themselves.

That Indian mines and Tagus' glistering ore
To this bequest were unto me but poor.

GLI. What? Gerardine, Dryfat, and Club !

DRY. The very2 same.

CLUB. You are welcome to our club-law.

GER. Cease admiration here : what doubt remains
I'll satisfy at full. Now join with me
For approbation of our Family.

Dry. The very, &c.] Old ed

DRY. / The v^
CLUB. 1 Lawe.

DRY. / The very same : your are welcome to our Club

209

EPILOGUE.4

Gentles, whose favour[s] have o'erspread this place,
And shed the real influence of grace
On harmless mirth, we thank you ; for our hope
Attracts such vigour and unmeasur'd scope
FrQm the reflecting splendour of your eyes,
That, grace presum'd, fear in oblivion dies.
Your judgment, as it is the touchb and trier
Of good from bad, so from your hearts comes fire,
That gives both ardour to the wit refin'd,
And sweetness [to] th' incense of each willing mind.
O may that fire ne'er die ! nor let your favours
Depart from us : give countenance to their labours
Propos'd a sacrifice, which may no less
Their strong desires than our true zeals express.

[Exeunt omnes.

n Epilogue} Is, of course, spoken by Gerardine.
b touch! i. e. touchstone.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

Your fine Gallants. As it hath beene often in Action at the
Black-friers. Written by T. Middleton. Imprinted at London
for Richard Bonian, dwelling at the signe of the Spred- Eagle,
right ouer-against the great North dore of Saint Paules Church.
n. d. 4to.

Fyve Wittie Gallants was licensed by Sir George Bucke,
22d March 1607-8: see Chalmers's Suppl. 4poL, p. 202.

DRAMATIS PERSONS.

FRIPPERY, the broker-gallant.

PRIMERO, the bawd-gallant.

GOLDSTONE, the cheating- gallant.

PURSENET, the pocket-gallant.

TAILBY, the whore- gallant.

FITSGRAVE, a gentleman.

BUNGLER, cousin to MISTRESS NEWCUT.

PYAMONT.

ARTHUR, servant to FRIPPERY.

FULK, servant to GOLDSTONE.

Boy, servant to PURSENET.

JACK, servant to TAILBY.

MARMADUKE, servant to MISTRESS NEWCUT.

Gentlemen, Tailor, Painter, $c.

KATHERINE, a wealthy orphan.
MISTRESS NEWCUT, a merchant's wife.
Novice.
Courtesans.

Scene, LONDON, except during part of the third act, which
is laid in Combe-Park and its neighbourhood.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

Presenter, or Prologue?* passing over the stage ; the
bawd-gallant [PRIMERO], with three wenches gal
lantly attired, meets him; the whore-gallant [TAIL-
BY], the pocket-gallant [PURSENET], the cheating -
gallant [GOLDSTONE], kiss these three wenches, and
depart in a little whisper and wanton action. Now,
for the other, the broker -gallant [FRIPPERY], he sits
at home yet, I warrant you, at this time of day,
summing up his pawns. Hactenus quasi inductio,
a little glimpse giving.

ACT I. SCENE I.

A Room in FRIPPERY'S House. FRIPPERY discoveredc
summing up his pawns, one fellow standing by him.

Enter ARTHUR and a second fellow.

AR. Is your pawn good and sound, sir ?
SEC. F. I'll pawn my life for that, sir.

b Presenter, or Prologue, &c.] Except that I have inserted
between brackets the names of the "gallants," I have given
this strange Induction as it stands in the old ed. The latter
part of it, " Now, for the other," &c., seems to be an address
to the reader ; though perhaps it was spoken by the Pre
senter.

c Frippery discovered, &c.] In the old ed. the only stage-
direction here is " Enter a fellow," and the prefixes to the
dialogue which follows are Frip., 1., 2., 3., and 4. — Till the
entrance of Primero, the scene in the old ed. is a mass of
confusion.

216 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

An. Place yourself there then ; I will seek to
prefer it presently. My master is very jealousd of
the pestilence ; marry, the pox sits at meat and
meal with him. [Second fellow retires.

FRI. [reading] Lent the fifth day of September to
mistress Onset upon her gown, [and] taffeta petticoat
with three broad silver laces, three pound fifteen
shillings.

Lent to Justice Cropshin upon both his velvet jackets
five pound ten shillings.

Lent privately to my Lady Newcut upon her gilt
casting-bottle* and her silver lie-pot fifty-jive shil
lings.

AR. Sir

FRI. [reads'] Lent to Sir Oliver Needy upon his
taffeta cloak, beaver hat, and perfumed leather-jerkin,
six pound five shillings.

AR. May it please your worship

FRI. [reads~\ Lent to master Andrew Lucifer upon
his Jlame-coloured doublet and blue taffeta hosef — top
the candle, sirrah ; methinks the light burns blue :
when came that suit in ?

AR. 'T'as lain above the year now.

FRI. Fire and brimstone ! cut it out into matches ;
the white linings will serve for tinder.

AR. And with little help, sir ; they are almost
black enough already. Sir, here's another come
with a pawn.

FRI. Keep him aside awhile, and reach me hither
the bill of the last week.

u jealous"] i. e. suspiciously afraid : so afterwards in this
play : " Ah, but I am jealous you will not keep your coun
tenance, i'faith."

e casting-bottle'] i. e. bottle for casting, or sprinkling, liquid
essences and perfumes, often mentioned by our early drama
tists ; its use was not confined to ladies.

f hose'} i. e. breeches.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 217

AR. 'Tis here at hand, sir.

FRI. Now, sir, what's your pawn ?

FIRST F. The second part of a gentlewoman's
gown, sir ; the lower half, I mean.

FRI. I apprehend you easily, the breeches of
the gown.

FIRST F. Very proper ; for she wears the doublet
at home, a guest that lies in my house, sir ; she
looks every hour for her cousin out a' th' country.

FRI. O, her cousin lies here ; 'a may mistake in
that. My friend, of what parish is your pawn ?

FIRST F. Parish ? why, Saint Clement's, sir.

FRI. I'll come to you presently/- — What parish
is your pawn, my friend ? [reads'] Saint Bride's, 5 ;
Saint Dunstan's, none; Saint Clement's, 3. Three at
Clement's ? — Away with your pawn, sir ! your
parish is infected ; I will neither purchase the
plague for sixpence in the pound and a groat bill-
money, nor venture my small stock into contagious
parishes : you have your answer ; fare you well, as
fast as you can, sir.

FIRST F. The pox arrest you, sir, at the suit of
the suburbs !

FRI. Ay, welcome, welcome.

FIRST F. For, I think, plague scorns your com
pany. [Exit.

FRI. I rank with chief gallants ; I love to smell
safely. [Reads] Lent in the vacation to master Proc
tor upon his spiritual gown Jive angels^ and upon his
corporal doublet fifteen shillings ; sum, three pound
Jive shillings.

AR. Sir

f /'// come to you presently'] These words, which in the old
ed. form part of the preceding speech, are, I suppose, ad
dressed to the second fellow.

£ angels'] See note, vol. i. p. 250.
VOL. II. U

218 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

FRI. Now, sir ?

AR. [bringing forward a trunk."] Here's one come
in with a trunk of apparel.

FRI. Whence comes it ?

AR. From Saint Martin's-in-the-Field.

FRI. Saint Martin's-in-the-Field ? [reads} Saint
Mary Maudlin, 2 ; Saint Martin 's, none : here's an
honest fellow ; let him appear, sir.

AR. You may come near, sir.

FRI. O welcome, welcome ; what's your pawn,
sir ?

SEC. F. Faith, a gentlewoman's whole suit, sir.

FRI. Whole suit ? 'tis well.

SEC. F. A poor, kind soul, troubled with a bad
husband ; one that puts her to her shifts here.

FRI. He puts her from her shifts, methinks,
when she is fain to pawn her clothes.

SEC, F. Look you, sir ; a fair satin gown, new
taffeta petticoat

FRI. Stay, this petticoat has been turned.

SEC. F. Often turned up and down, andh you
will, but never turned, sir.

FRI. Cry you mercy, indeed.

SEC. F. A fine white beaver, pearl band, three
falls j1 I ha' known her have more in her days.

FRI. Alas, and she be but a gentlewoman of any
count or charge, three falls are nothing in these
days ! know that : tut, the world's changed ; gen-
tlewomen'sJ falls stand upright now ; no sin but
has a bolster, that it may lie at ease. Well, what
do you borrow of these, sir 1

SEC. F. Twelve pound, and you will, sir.

h and] i. e. if.

1 falls] i. e. falling bands, which lay flat upon the dress
from the neck.

J gentlewomen's'] Old ed. " gentlewomans."

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 219

FRI. How?

SEC. F. They were not her's for twenty.

FRI. Why, so ; our pawn is ever thrice the value
of our money, unless in plate and jewels ; how
should the months be restored and the use else ?
We must cast it for the twelvemonth, so many
pounds, so many months, so many eighteenpences ;
then the use of these eighteenpences ; then the
want of the return of those pounds : all these must
be laid together ; which well considered, the valu
ation of the pawn had need to sound treble. Can
six pound pleasure the gentlewoman ?

SEC. F. It may please her, but, like a man of
threescore, in the limberest degree.

FRI. I have but one word more to say in't ;
twenty noblesk is all and the utmost that I will
hazard upon't.

SEC. F. She must be content with't : the less
borrowed, the better paid ; come.

FRI. Arthur.

AR. At hand, sir.

FRI. Tell out twenty nobles, and take her name
in a bill.

SEC. F. I'm satisfied, sir. \_Exit with ARTHUR.

FRI. Welcome, good Saint Martin's-in-the-Field,
welcome, welcome ! I know no other name.

Enter PRIMERO.

PRI. What, so hard at your prayers ?

FRI. A little, sir ; summing up my pawns here —
what, master Primero, is it you, sir gallant ? and
how do1 all the pretty sweet ladies, those plump,

k nobles'] See note, p.
1 do'] Old ed. " does."

17.

220 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

kind, delicate blisses, ha ? whom I kiss in my very
thoughts, — how do they, gallant ?

PRI. Why, gallant, if they should not do well in
my house, where should it be done, boy ? have I
not a glorious situation ?

FRI. O, a gallant receipt, — violet air, curious
garden, quaint walks, fantastical arbours, three
back doors, and a coach-gate ! nay, thou'rt ad
mirably seated : little furniture will serve thee ;
thou'rt never without moveables.

PRI. Ay, praise my stars ! Ah, the goodly vir
ginities that have been cut up in my house, and
the goodly patrimonies that have lain like sops in
the gravy ! and when those sops were eaten, yet
the meat was kept whole for another, and another,
and another ; for as in one pie twenty may dip
their sippits, so upon one woman forty may con
sume their patrimonies.

FRI. Excellent, master Primero !

PRI. Well, I willm pray for women while I live ;
They're the profitablest fools, I'll say that for 'em,
A man can keep 'bout his house ; the prettiest kind

fowl ;

So tame, so gentle, e'en to strangers' hands
So soon familiar ; suffer to be touch'd
Of those they ne'er saw twice : the dove's not like
'em.

FRI. Most certain, for that's honest : but I have
A suit to you.

PRI. And so have I to you.

FRI. That happens well : grant mine, and I'll
grant yours.

m / will'] Old ed. " ile :" and in next line but one,
" about."

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 221

PRI. A match.

FRI. Make me perfect in that trick that got you
so much at primero.0

PRI. O, for the thread tied at your partner's leg,
The twitch ?

FRI. Ay, that twitch, and? you call iti so.

PRI. That secret twitch got me five hundred

pound

Ere 'twas first known, and since I ha' sold it well :
Five hundred pound laid down shall not yet buy
The fee-simple of my twitch : I would be here

with't.

'Twas a blest invention ;
I'dr been a beggar many a lousy year
But for my twitch : it was the prettiest twitch !
Many over-cheated gulls have fatted
Me with the bottom of their patrimonies,
E'en to the last sop, gaped while I fed 'em,
Who now live by that art that first undid 'em.
But I must swear you to be secret, close.

FRI. As a maid at ten.

PRI. Had you sworn but two years higher
I would ne'er ha' believ'd you.

FRI. Nay, I let twelve alone,
For after twelve has struck, maids look for one.

PRI. I look for one too, and a maid, I think.

FRI. What, to come hither ?

PRI. Sure, she follows me : a pretty, fat-eyed
wench, with a Venus in her cheek : did but raiment
smile upon her, she were nectar for great dons,
boy : and that's my suit to thee.

0 primero} An old and favourite game at cards : see Sin
ger's Researches into the Hist, of Playing Cards, p. 244 sqq.

P and] i. e. if.

1 call it] Old ed. " calt."
* I'd] Old ed. " I had."

222 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

FRI. And that's granted already. Of what vo
lume is this book, that I may fit a cover to't ?

PRI. Faith, neither in folio nor in decimo sexto,
but in octavo, between both ; a pretty, middle-
sized trug,8

FRI. Then I have fitted her already, in my eye,
i'faith. Here came a pawn in e'en now will make
shift to serve her as fit! — look you, sir gallant* —
satin, taffeta, beaver, fall,u and all.

PRI. Is it new ?

FRI. New ? you see it bears her youth as
freshly

PRI. A pretty suit of clothes, i'faith : but put
case the party should come to redeem 'em of a
sudden ?

FRI. Pooh, then your wit's sickly : have not I
the policy, think you, to seem extreme busy, and
defer 'em till the morrow ? against which time that
pawn shall be secretly fetched home, and another
carried out to supply the place.

PRI. I like thy craft well there.

FRI. A general course. O, frippery7 is an un
known benefit, sir gallant !

PRI. And what must I give you for the hire
now, i'faith?

8 trug~\ i. e. trull. The word is not very common : " nor
(shall I speake plainely) please the Trugge his mistresse,
without he goe to the Apothecaries," &c. GREENE'S Quip
for an Upstart Courtier, sig D 3, ed. 1620.

1 gallant'] Old ed. " Gallants."

n fall] See note, p. 218.

v frippery'] This word has heen rightly explained by Gifford
and others as — a place where old clothes are exposed for
sale : but here the profession of frippery seems to be meant ;
compare Chapman ;
" D'OL. Now your profession, I pray ?

FRIP. Fripperie, my lord, or as some tearme it, Petty
Brokery." Monsieur D' Olive, 1606, sig E 4.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 223

FRI. Of the whole suit, for the month ?

PRI. Ay, for the month.

FRI. Go to, you shall give me but twelvepence
a-day ; master Primero, you're a friend, and I'll
use you so : 'tis got up at your house in an after
noon, i'faith, the hire of the whole month : ye must
think I can distinguish spirits, and put a differ
ence between you and others ; you pay no more,
i'faith.

PRI. I could have offered you no less myself.

FRI. Tut, a man must use a friend as a friend
may use him : your house has been a sweet house
to me, both for pleasure and profit ; I'll give you
your due : omne tulit punctum, you have always
kept fine punks in your house, that's for pleasure,
qui miscuit utile dulci, and I have had sweet pawns
from 'em, that's for profit now.

PRI. You flatter, you flatter, sir gallant, — but
whist ! here she enters : I prithee, question her.

Enter Novice.

O, you're welcome !

FRI. Is this your new scholar, master Primero ?

PRI. Marry is she, sir.

FRI. I'll commend your judgment in a wench
while I live : that face will get money, i'faith ;
'twill be a get-penny, I warrant you. — Go to, your
fortune was choice, pretty bliss, to fall into the
regard of so kind a gentleman.

Nov. I hope so, sir.

FRI. See what his care has provided already for
you ; you'll be simply set out to the world ! If
you'll have that care now to deserve his pains, O
that will be acceptable ! and these be the rudiments
you must chiefly point at : to counterfeit cunningly,
to wind in gentlemen with powerful attraction to

224 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

keep his house in name and custom, to dissemble
with your own brother, never to betray your fel
lows' imperfections nor lay open the state of their
bodies to strangers, to believe those that give you,
to gull those that believe you, to laugh at all under
taffeta ; and these be your rudiments.

PRI. There's e'en all, i'faith ; we'll trouble you
with no more ; nay, you shall live at ease enough :
for nimming away jewels and favours from gen
tlemen, which are your chief vails, [I] hope that
will come naturally enough to you, I need not in
struct you ; you'll have that wit, I trust, to make
the most of your pleasure.

Nov. I hope one's mother-wit will serve for that,
sir.

PRI. O, properest of all, wench ! it must be a
she-wit that does those things, and thy mother was
quick enough at it in her days.

FRI. Give me leave, sister, to examine you upon
two or three particulars : — and you make you
ready,w be not ashamed ; here's none but friends
— are you a maid ?

Nov. Yes, in the last quarter, sir.

FRI. Very proper, that's e'en going out : a maid
in the last quarter, that's a whore in the first : let
me see, new moon on Thursday ; she'll be changedx
by that time too. Are you willing to pleasure
gentlemen ?

Nov. We are all born to pleasure our country,
forsooth.

FRI. Excellent ! Can you carry yourself cun
ningly, and seem often holy ?

Nov. O, fear not that, sir ! my friends were all
Puritans.

w and you make you ready~\ i. e. if you dress yourself: com
pare p. 57 and note. * changed] Old ed. «« chande."

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 225

FRI. I'll ne'er try her further.

PRI. She's done well, i'faith : I fear not now to
turn her loose to any gentleman in Europe.

FRI. You need not, sir : of her own accord, I
think she'll be loose enough without turning. —
Arthur.

Re-enter ARTHUR.

AR. Here, sir.

FRI. Go, make haste, shift her into that suit
presently.

AR. It shall be done.

PRI. Arthur, do't neatly, Arthur.

AR. Fear't not, sir. [Exit.

PRI. Follow him, wench.

Nov. With all my heart, sir. [Exit.

PRI. But, mass, sir,x
In what are we forgetful all this while !

FRI. In what ?

PRI. The wooing business, man.

FRI. Heart, that's true !

PRI. The gallants will preventy us.

FRI. Are you certain ?

PRI. I can avouch it : there's a general meeting
At the deceas'd knight's house this afternoon ;
There's rivalship enough.

FRI. No doubt in that :
Would either thou or I might bear her from 'em !

PRI. My hopes are not yet faint.

FRI. Nor mine.

PRI. Tut, man,

Nothing in women's hearts sooner win[s] place
Than a brave outside and an impudent face.

FRI. And for both those we'll fit it.

x PRI. But, mass, sir~\ Old ed. " Ar. But maister.'
y prevent] See note, p. 49.

226 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

PRI. Ay, if the devil be not in't : make haste.

FRI. I follow straight. [Exit PRIME RO.

Vanish, thou fog, and sink beneath our brightness,
Abashed at the splendour of such beams !
We scorn thee, base eclipser of our glories.
That wouldst have hid our shine from mortal's

eyes.
Now, gallants, I'mz for you, ay, and perhaps before

you :

You can appear but glorious from yourselves,
And have your beams but drawn from your own

light,

But mine from many, — many make me bright.
Here's a diamond that sometimes graced the finger
of a countess ; here sits a ruby that ne'er linsa
blushing for the party that pawned it ; here a
sapphire. O providence and fortune ! my be
ginning was so poor, I would fain forget it ; and
I take the only course, for I scorn to think on't ;
slave to a trencher, observer of a salt-cellar, privy
to nothing but a close-stool, or such unsavoury
secret : but as I strive to forget the days of my
serving, so I shall once remember the first step of
my raising ; for, having hardly raked five mark[s]b
together, I rejoiced so in that small stock, which
most providently I ventured by water to Black-
wall among fishwives ; and in small time, what by
weekly return and gainful restitution, it rizec to a
great body, beside a dish of fish for a present, that
stately preserved me a seven-night.
Nord ceas'd it there, but drew on greater profit ;
For I was held religious by those

» I'm] Old ed. " I am." a lifts'] i. e. ceases.

b mar&[«]] A mark was 135. 4:d. c rize] i. e. rose.

d Nor ceas'd, &c.] All the latter part of this speech is prose
in the old ed. : as to the arrangement of it, the reader must

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 227

That do profess like abstinence,

And was full often secretly supplied

By charitable Catholics,

Who censur'd6 me sincerely abstinate,

When merely I for hunger, notf for zeal,

Eat up the fish, and put their alms to use !

Ha, ha, ha !

But those times are run out ; and, for my sake,

Zealous dissemblance has since far'd the worse.

Let me see now, whose cloak shall I wear to-day

to continue change ? — O — Arthur !

Re-enter ARTHUR.

AR. Here, sir.

FRI. Bring down Sir Oliver Needy's taffeta cloak
and beaver hat — I am sure he is fast enough in the
Knight's wards — and Andrew Lucifer's rapier and
dagger with the embossed girdle and hangers h
[exit ARTHUR], for he's in his third sweat by this
time, sipping of the doctor's bottle, or picking the
ninth part of a rack of mutton dry-roasted, with a
leash of nightcaps on his head like the pope's triple
crown, and as many pillows crushed to his back,
with O -the- needles ! for he got the pox of a
sempster, and it pricked so much more naturally.
Quick, Arthur, quick.

be aware that imperfect lines frequently occur in the blank
verse of our early dramatists : see, for instance, the speeches
of Katherine to her suitors in next scene.

e censur'd me] i. e. held me in their opinion.

* not] Old ed. " nor."

s in the Knight's ward] See note, vol. i. p. 392. — The old
ed. gives the passage thus : " / am sure he is fast inough ?
and Andrew Lucifer's Rapier and dagger, in the knights ward,
with the embost," &c.

h hangers'] i. e. fringed and ornamented loops attached to
the girdle, in which the weapons were suspended.

228 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

Re-enter ARTHUR, with cloak, $c., which FRIPPERY
puts on.

Now to the deceas'd knight's daughter,

Whom many gallants sue to, I 'mongst many ;

For

Since impudence gains more respect than virtue,

And coin thanh blood, which few can now deny,

Who're your chief gallants then but such as I ?

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

An Apartment in KATHERINE'S House.
Enter KATHERINE and FITSGRAVE.

FIT. You do your beauties injury, sweet virgin,
To lose the time they must rejoice in youth :
There's no perfection in a woman plac'd
But wastes itself though it be never wasted ;
Then judge your wrongs1 yourself.

KAT. Good master Fitsgrave,
Through sorrow for the knight my father's death,
(Whose being was the perfection-) of my joy
And crown of my desires), I cannot yet
But forcedly on marriage fix my heart :
Yet heaven forbid I should deject your hopes !
Conceive not of me so uncharitably ;
I should belie my soul if I should say
You are the man I never should affect.
I understand you thus far, you're a gentleman,
Whom your estate and virtues may commendk
To a far worthier breast than this of mine.

h than] Old ed. " them."

1 your wrongs] May be right : but qy. " you wrong."

J perfection] Old ed. " perfections."

k commend'] Old ed. " command."

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 229

FIT. O cease ! I dare not hear such blasphemy.
What is without you worthy I neglect ;
In you is plac'd the worth that I respect.
Vouchsafe,1 unequall'd virgin, [to] accept
This worthless favour from your servant's arm,
The hallow'd beads, whereon I justly kept
The true and perfect number of my sighs.

[Gives a chain of pearl.

KAT. Mine cannot equal yours, yet in exchange
Accept and wear it for my sake. [Gives a jewel.

FIT. Even as my [life] I'll rate it.

Enter GOLDSTONE, PURSENET, TAILBY, FRIPPERY,
PRIMERO, and Boy, at the farther door.

GOL. Heart ! Fitsgrave in such bosom single-
loves ?

PUR. So close and private with her !

TAI. Observe 'em ; he grows proud and bold.

FRI. Why, was not this a general meeting ?

PRI. By her own consent. Death, how I could
taste his blood !

KAT. See, the gentlemen,
At my request, do all present themselves.

GOL. Manifold blisses wait on her desire,'
Whose beauty and whose mind so many honour !

KAT. I take your wishes thankfully, kind gen
tlemen,

All here assembled, over whose long suits
I ne'er insulted ;

Nor, like that common sickness of our sex,
Grew proud in the abundance of my suitors,

1 Vouchsafe, Sec.] Old ed. thus :

" Vouchsafe vnequalld Virgin whereon I iustly kept,
Accept this worthlesse fauor from your seruants arrae, the

hallowed heades,

The true and perfect number of my sighs."
VOL. n. X

230 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

Or number of the days they sued unto me.

Dutiful sorrow for my father's death,

Not wilful coyness, hath my hours detain'd

So long in silence.

I'm left to mine own choice : so much the more

My care calls on me : if I err through love,

'Tis I must chide myself; I cannot shift

The fault unto my parents, they're at rest ;

And I shall sooner err through love than wealth.

GOL. Good!

PUR. Excellent !

TAI. That likes™ me well.

PRI. Hope still.

KAT. And my affections do pronounce you all
Worthy their pure and most entire deserts :
Yet they can choose but one ;
Nor do I dissuade any of his hopes,
Because my heart is not yet throughly fix'd
On marriage or the man,
But crave the quiet respite of one month,
The month unto this night ; against which time
I do invite you all to that election,
Which, on my unstain'd faith and virgin promise,
Shall light amongst no strangers, but yourselves.
May this content you ?

[ While she is speaking, the Boy steals from her
the chain of pearl.

ALL. Glad and content !

KAT. 'Tis a good time to leave :
Till then commend us to your gentlest thoughts.

[Exit.

ALL. Enough.

FIT. Ough!

\_The gallants look scurmly upon FITSGRAVE, and

m likes] See note, p. 47.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 231

he upon them. Exeunt GOLDSTONE, TAILBY,
FRIPPERY, and PRIMERO. As PURSENET is
going out, the Boy takes him into a corner.

BOY. Hist, master, hist !

PUR. Boy, how now ?

BOY. Look you, sir.

PUR. Her chain of pearl ?

BOY. I sneckt it away finely.

PUR. Active boy,

Thy master's best revenue, his life and soul !
Thou keep'st 'em both together : whip, away.

[Exit Boy.

Fall back, fall belly, I must be maintain'd :
Hope is no purchase ;n
Nor care I if I miss her. Why I rank
In this design with gallants, there's full cause ;
Policy invites me to it :
'Tis not for love, or for her sake alone ;
It keeps my state suspectless and unknown.

[Aside, and exit.

FIT. Their looks run through and through me,

and the stings

Of their snake-hissing whispers pierc'd my hearing.
They're mad she grac'd me with one private minute
Above their fortunes : I've0 observed 'em often
Most spitefully aspected toward my happiness,
Beyond all others ; but the cause I know not.
A quiet monjth the virgin has enclos'd
Unto herself; suitors stand without till then :
In which space cunningly I'll wind myself
Into their bosoms. I've bethought the shape ;
Some credulous scholar, easily infected
With fashion, time, and humour : unto such

n purchase} See note, vol. i. p. 319.

0 I've} Old ed. here and in the next line but five, " I
haue."

232 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

Their deepest thoughts will, like to wanton fishes,
Play above water, and be all parts seen :
For since at me their envy pines, I'll see
Whether their lives from touch of blame sit free.

[Exit.

ACT II. SCENE I.

A Room in PRIME no's House.
Enter PRIMERO, meeting MISTRESS NEWCUT.

PRI. Mistress Newcut, welcome : here will be
choice of gallants for you anon.

Mis. N. Is all clear ? may I venture ? am I not
seen of the wicked ?

PRI. Strange absurdity, that you should come
into my house, and ask if you be not seen of the
wicked ! push !p I take't unkindly, i'faith : what
think you of my house ? 'tis no such common re
ceptacle.

Mis. N. Forgive me, sweet master Primero : I
can be content to have my pleasure as much as
another, but I must have a care of my credit ; I
would not be seen ; any thing else. My huslband's
at sea, and a woman shall have an ill report in this
world, let her carry herself never so secretly ; you
know't, master Primero. And what choice of
gallants be they ? will they be proper gentlemen,
think you ?

PRI. Nay, sure they are as proper as they will
be already.

Mis. N. I must have choice, you know ; I come
for no gain, but for sheer pleasure and affection.

PRI. You see your old spy-hole yonder ; take

P push] See note, vol. i. p. 29.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 233

your stand, please your own eye. I'll work it so,
the gallants shall present themselves before you,
and in the most conspicuous fashion.

Mis. N. That's all I can desire — till better come.
[Aside^] — Look you.

PRI. What mean you, lady ?

Mis. N. A trifle, sir, to buy you silver spurs !
Good sir, accept it. [Gives money, and exit.

PRI. Silver spurs ? a pretty emblem ! mark it ;
all her gifts are about riding still : the other day
she sent me boot-hose wrought in silk and gold ;
now silver spurs. Well, go thy ways, thou'rt as
profitable a spirit as e'er lighted into my house.
Come, ladies, come, 'tis late ; to music, — when ?q

Enter Courtesans and Novice.

FIRST C. You're best command us, sir! — Our

pimp's grown proud.
PRI. To fools and strangers these are gentle*

women
Of sort and worship, knights' heirs, great in por^

tions,

Boarded here for their music ;
And oftentimes 'tas been so cunningly carried,
That I have had two stolen away at once,
And married at Savoy,r and prov'd honest shop
keepers :

And I may safely swear they practis'd music ;
They're natural at prick-song. A small mist
Will dazzle a fool's eye, and that's the world :
So I can thump my hand upon the table
With an. austere grace, and cry one, two, and three,
Fret, stamp, and curse, foh, 'twill pass well for me !

i when] See note, vol. i. p. 362.

r Savoy] i. e. the Savoy: see Stowe's Survey, b. i. p. 210,
and b. iv. p. 106, ed. 1720.

234 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS,

Enter Boy.

How now, sirrah ?

BOY. They're coming in, sir, and strangers in
their company.

PRI. Tune apace, ladies. — Be ready for the song,
sirrah.

Enter GOLDSTONE, PURSENET, FRIPPERY, TAILBY,
FITSGRAVE disguised, and BUNGLER.

GOL. Nay, I beseech you, gallants, be more in
ward8 with this gentleman ; his parts deserve it.

PUR. Whence comes he, sir ?

GOL. Piping hot* from the university ; he smells
of buttered loaves yet ; an excellent scholar, but
the arrantest ass ! For this our solicitor, he's a
rare fellow five-and-forty mile hence, believe that :
his friends are of the old fashion, all in their
graves ; and now has he the leisure to follow all
new fashions, ply the brothels, practise salutes and
cringes.

PUR. O!

GOL. Now, dear acquaintance,
I'll bring you to see fashions.

FIT. What house is this, sir ?

GOL. O, of great name : here music is profess'd ;
Here sometimes ladies practise, and the meanest,
Daughters to men of worship,
Whom gentlemen, such as ourselves, may visit,
Court, clip,u and exercise our wits upon ;
It is a profess'd courtesy.

s inward'] i. e. intimate.— The old ed. gives to Pursenet the
words " gentleman ; his parts deserve it."

1 Piping hot, Sec.] The first part of this speech relates to
Fitsgrave, who has joined the " gallants" under the name of
Bouser ; the second part to Bungler.

u clip] i. e. embrace.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 235

FIT. A pretty recreation, i'faith !

GOL. I seldom saw so few here : you shall have
'em sometimes in every corner of the house, with
their violsv betwixt their legs, and play the sweetest
strokes ; 'twould e'en filch your soul almost out of
your bosom.

FIT. Paxw on't, we spoil ourselves for want of
these things at university.

GOL. You have no such natural happiness : let's
draw near.

PRI. Gentlemen, you are all most respectively*
welcome.

GOL. We are bold and insatiate suitors, sir, to
the breath of your music, and the dear sight of
those ladies.

PRI. And what our poor skill can invite you to,
You'rey kindly welcome : you must pardon 'em,

gentlemen,

Virgins and bashful, besides new beginners ;
'Tis not a whole month since they were first enter'd.

GOL. Seven year in my knowledge. [Aside.

PRI. They blush at their very lessons ; they'll2

not endure
To hear of a stop, a prick, or a semiquaver.

FIRST C. O, out upon you !

PRI. La, I tell you; — you'll bear me witness,

gentlemen,

If their complaints come to their parents' ears,
They're words of art I teach 'em, nought but art.

GOL. Why, 'tis most certain.

BUN. For all scholars know that musica est ars.

ALL THE C. O beastly word !

v viols'] See note, p. 11.

w Pax] See note, p. 24.

x respectively'] i. e. respectfully : compare vol. i. p. 425.

y You're'} Old ed. " You are."

7 they'll'] Old ed. " they will."

236 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

PRI. Look to the ladies, gentlemen.

GOL. Kiss again.

PUR. Come, another.

TAI. This [is] a good interim. [Exit.*

PRI. What have you done, sir ?

BUN. Why, what have I done ?

PRI. Saw you their stomachs queasy, a and come
with such gross meat ?

BUN. Why, is't not Latin, sir ?

PRI. Latin ? why, then, let the next to't be
Latin too.

PUR. So, enough.

GOL. Nay, I can assure you thus far, I that
never knew the language have heard so much that
ars is Latin for art ; and it may well be too, for
there's more art in't now a-days than ever was.

PRI. Is't possible ?
I'm sorry then I'veb followed it so far.

FIRST. C. A scholar call you him ?

PRI. Music must not jar :
The offence is satisfied. Come, to the song ;
Begin, sir.

\_The song : and hec keeps time, shews several
humours and moods : the Boy in his pocket
nims away Fitsgrave's jewel here, and exit.

BUN. Not a whole month since you were entered,
ladies ?

FIT. None that shall see their cunning will be
lieve it. {Aside.

PRI. It is no affliction,d gentlemen.

1 Exit] Is not marked in old ed. : but, as far as I under
stand the scene, it seems necessary.

" queasy'} i. e. squeamish.

b I'm . . . I've'] Old ed. " I am ... I have."

c he] I have not altered this stage-direction, as I am not
sure who is meant by the word he. Primero (see p. 234) had
desired the Boy to " be ready for the song."

d wo affliction'] Qy. " not a fiction."

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 237

BUN. I care not much, i'faith, if I write down
to my father presently to send up my sister in all
haste, that I may place her here at this music-
school.

Mis. N. [peeping in] 'Slid, 'tis the fool my
cousin ! I would not for the value of three re
creations he had seen me here.

PRI. How like you your new prize ?

FRI. Pray, give me leave ;
I have not yet sufficiently admir'd her.

PRI. My witsd must not stand idle. 'Slife, he's
in a sick trance !

GOL. A cheat or two among these mistresses
Would not be ill bestow'd ; I affect none,
But for my prey : such are their affections,
I know it ; how could drabs and cheaters live else ?
Then since the world rolls on dissimulation,
I'll be the first dissembler. [Aside.

FIRST C. Prithee, love, comfort, choice,
My only wish, in thee I am confin'd !
Deny me any thing, a slight chain of pearl ?

PUR. Nay, and ite be but slight

FIRST C. Being denied,
I prize it slight ; but given me by my love,
Light shall not be so dear unto my eye,
Mine eye unto the body, as the gift.

PUR. How have I power to deny this to you,
That command all ? my fortunes are thy servants,
And thou the mistress both of them and me.

[Gives her the chain.

d PRI. My wits, &c.] I suspect that this speech ought to
be divided thus :

" PRI. 'Slife, he's in a sick trance !
GOL. My wits must not stand idle :
A cheat or two," &c.

e and if] i. e. if it. Old ed. " an't."

238 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

FIRST C. The truest that e'er breath'd !

GOL. To a gentleman

That thus so long and sof sincerely lov'd you
As I myself, ne'er was less pity shewn.

SEC. C. Why, I never was held cruel.

GOL. But to me.

SEC. C. Nor to you.

GOL. Go to, 't'as scar'd you much.

SEC. C. I'm sorry your conceit is so unkind
To think me so.

GOL. When had I other argument ?
I've often tendered you my love and service,
And that in no mean fashion ;
Yet were you never& that requiteful mistress
That grac'd me with one favour ;
'Slight, not so much as such a pretty ring ;
Paxh on't, 't'as almost broke my heart.

[Takes off her ring.

SEC. C. Has took it off:— 'Sfoot, master Gold-
stone ! '

GOL. Nay, where a man loves most, there to be
scanted !

SEC. C. My ring, come, come

GOL. What reckon I a satin gown or two,
If she were wise ?

SEC. C. Life ! my ring, sir,, come

GOL. Have you the face, i'faith ?

SEC. C. Give me my ring.

GOL. Prithee, hence ; by this light you get none
on't.

SEC. C. How ?

f and so] Old ed. " and has so."

% never} Old ed. " nere."

. h Pax~\ See note, p. 24.

1 Goldstone'] Old ed. " Bouser," which is Fitsgrave's as
sumed name, — the author, I suppose, having merely written
G., which the printer took for B.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 239

GOL. I hold your favours of more pure esteem
Than to part from 'em ; faith, I do, howe'er
You think of me.

SEC. C. Push,-* pray, sir —

GOL. Hark you, go to ;
You'vek lost much by unkindness ; go your ways.

SEC. C. 'Sfoot!

GOL. But yet there's no time past ; you may
redeem it.

SEC. C., Come, I cannot miss1 it, i'faith ; beside,
the gentleman that bestowed it on me swore to me
it cost him twenty nobles.m

GOL. Twenty nobles ? pox of twenty nobles !
But you must cost me more, you pretty villain :
Ah, you little rogue !

SEC. C. Come, come, I know you're but in jest.

GOL. In jest ? no, you shall see.

SEC. C. No way will get it :

As good give it him now, and hope for somewhat.

\_Aside.

GOL. True love made jest !

SEC. C. I did but try thy faith,
How fast thou'dst hold it. Now I see a woman
May venture worthy favours to thy trust,
And have 'em truly kept ; and I protest,
Had I drawn't from thee, 1 should ne'er ha' lov'd

thee ;
I know that.

GOL. 'Sfoot, I was ne'er so wronged in my life !
Think you I'm11 in jest with you ? what, with my
love ?

i PusK] See note, vol. i. p. 29.
k You've'] Old ed. " You have."
1 miss it] i. e. let it go.
m nobles'] See note, p. 17.
n I'm'] Old ed. " I am."

240 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

I could find lighter subjects you shall see ;
And time will shew how much you injure me.

SEC. C. The ring, were it0 thrice worth, I freely

give,
For I know you'll? requite it.

GOL. Will I live ?

SEC. C. Enough.

GOL. Why, this was well come off now :
Where's my old serving-man ? not yet return'd ?
O, here he peeps. \_Aside.

Enter FULK.

Now, sirrah ?

FULK. May it please your worship — they're done
artificially, i'faith, boy.

GOL. Both the great beakers ?

FULK. Both, lad.

GOL. Just the same size ?

FULK. Ay, and the marks as just.

GOL. So, fall off respectively*! now.

FULK. My lord desires your worship of all
love

GOL. His lordship must hold me excused till
morning ; I'll not break company to-night. Where
sup we, gallants ?

PUR. At Mermaid.1"

GOL. Sup there who list, I have forsworn the
house.

FULK. For the truth is, this plot must take effect
at Mitre.8 [Aside, and exit.

0 were if] Old ed. " wer't."

P you'll'] Old ed. " you will."

•> respectively] See note, p. 235.

r Mermaid'] A famous tavern in Cornhill, frequented by
Shakespeare, Jonson, Beaumont, Fletcher, &c.

* Mitre~] Another celebrated tavern, in Bread Street, Cheap-
side : it was afterwards removed to Fleet Street.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 241

PUR. Faith,5 I'm indifferent.

BUN. So are we, gentlemen.

PUR. Name the place, master Goldstone.

GOL. Why, the Mitre, in my mind, for neat at
tendance, diligent boys, and — push !* excels it far.

ALL. Agreed, the Mitre then.

PUR. Boyu — some goodness toward :v the boy's
whipt away. [Aside.

FIT. The jewel, heart, the jewel ! /

GOL. How now, sir ? what mov'd you ?

FIT. Nothing, sir;
A spice of poetry, a kind a' fury,
A disease runs among scholars.

GOL. Mass, it made you stamp.

FIT. Whew, _n

'T'ill make some stamp and stare, make a strange !

noise,
Curse, swear, beat tire-men,w and kick players' I

boys;
The effects are very fearful.

PUR. Bless me from't !

FIT. O, you need not fear it, sir. — Hell of this
luck!

GOL. Hark, he's at it again !

PUR. Some pageant-plot, or some device for the

tilt-yard :
Disturb him not.

FIT. How can I gain her love,
When I have lost her favour ? [Aside.

• Faith, &c.] This speech is given in old ed. to Goldstone ;
but it disagrees with what he has just said.

1 push'] See note, vol. i. p. 29.

u Boy, &c.] What I have here given to Pursenet is in the
old ed. part of the speech of All.

v toward'] See note, p. 177.

w tire-men] i. e. dressers belonging to the theatre, — as it
seems from what follows.

VOL. II. y

242 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

GOL. What money hast about thee? Look
you,w sir, I must be fain to pawn a fair stone here
for ordinary expenses : a pox of my tenants ! I
give 'em twenty days after the quarter, and they
cut out forty.

FRI. Why, you might take the forfeiture of their
leases then.

GOL. I know I might; but what's their course?
The rogues comex me up all together, with geese and
capons, and petitions in pigs' snouts, which would
move any man, i'faith, were his stomach ne'er so
great ; and to see how pitifully the pullen? will
look, it makes me after relent, and turn my anger
into a quick fire to roast 'em — nay, touch't and
spare it not.

FRI. 'Tis right : well, what does your worship
borrow of this, sir ?

GOL. The stone's twenty nobles.2

FRI. Nay, hardly.

GOL. As I am a right gentleman.

FRI. It comes near it indeed : well, here's five
pound in gold upon't.

GOL. 'Twill serve ; and the ring safe and secret ?

FRI. As a virgin's.

GOL. I wish no higher. — What, gallants, are you

constant ?
Does the place hold ?

ALL. The Mitre.

GOL. Sir, in regard of our continued boldness
and trouble, which love to your music hath made
us guilty of, shall we entreat your worship's
company, with these sweet ladies, your professed

w LooJc you . . . out forty'} Given to Pursenet in old ed.
* come'] Old ed. "comes."
J" pullen"] i. e. poultry.
z nobles'] See note, p. 17.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 243

scholars, to take part of a poor supper with myself
and these gentlemen at the Mitre ?

FRI. Pray, master Primero

PUR. I beseech you, sir, let it be so.

PRI. O, pardon me, sweet gentlemen ; the world's
apt to censure. I have the charge of them, they're
left in trust, they're virgins : and I dare not hazard
their fames ; the least touch mars 'em : and what
would their right worshipful parents think, if the
report should fly to them, that they were seen with
gentlemen in a tavern ?

GOL. All this may be prevented: what serves

your coach for ?
They may come coach'd and mask'd.

PRI. You put me to't, sir ;
Yet I must say again, I fear the drawers
And vintner's boys will be familiar with them,
And think 'em mistresses.

PUR. There are those places where respect seems

slighter ;

More censure3 is belonging to the Mitre ;
You know that, sir.

PRI. Gentlemen, you prevail.

GOL. We'll all expect you there.

PRI. And we'll not fail.

FRI. The devil will ne'er dissemble with them so,
As you for them.

GOL. Come, sir.

FRI. What else ? let's go.

[Exeunt all except PRIMERO, Courtesans, and
Novice.

Re-enter TAILBY.
PRI. How cheer you, sir ?

a More censure] i. e. a higher opinion.

d

244 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

TAI. Faith, like the moon, more bright,
• Decreas'd in body, but re-made in light :
Here thou shalt share some of my brightness with
me.

PRI. By my faith, they'reb comfortable beams,
sir.

FIRST C. Come,

Where have you spent the time now from my sight ?
I'm jealous of thy action.

TAI. Push !c I did but walk
A turn or two in the garden.

FIRST C. What made youd there ?

TAI. Nothing but cropt a flower.

FIRST C. Some woman's honour, I believe.

TAI. Foh ! is this a woman's honour ?

FIRST C. Much about one,

When both are pluck'd, their sweetness is soon
gone.

TAI. Prithee, be true to me.

FIRST C. When did I fail ?

TAI. Yet I am ever doubtful that you6 sin.

FIRST C. I do account the world but as my spoil,
To adorn thee :

My love is artificial to all others,
But purity to thee. Dost thou want gold ?
Here, take this chain of pearl, supply thyself:
Be thou but constant, firm, and just to me,
Rich heirs shall want ere want come near to thee.

TAI. Upon thy lip I seal sincerity.

\_Exit First Courtesan.

SEC. C. Was this your vow to me ?

TAI. Pox, what's a kiss to be quite rid of her ?

h they're] Old ed. " they are."

c Push~\ See note, vol. i. p. 29.

d What made you~] i. e. what business had you ?

e you] Old ed. " your."

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 245

She's su'd so long, I was asham'd of her :
'Twas but her cheek I kiss'd neither, to save her
longing.

SEC. C. 'Tis not a kiss I weigh.

TAI. Had you weigh'd this,
'T'ad lack'd above five ounces of a true one ;
No kiss that e'er weigh'd lighter.

SEC. C. 'Tis thy love that I suspect.

TAI. My love ? why, by this — what shall I swear
by?

SEC. C. Swear by this jewel ; keep thy oath,
keep that.

TAI. By this jewel, then, no creature can be

perfect
In my love but thy dear self.

SEC. C. I rest [content]. {Exit.

TAI. Ha, ha, ha ! let's laugh at 'em, sweet soul.

Nov. Ay, they may laugh at me ;
I was a novice, and believ'd your oaths.

TAI. Why, what do you think of me ? make I no

difference

'Tweenf seven years' prostitution and seven days ?
Why, you're but in the wane of a maid yet.
You wrong my health in thinking I love them :
Do not I know their populous^ imperfections ?
Why, they cannot live till Easter, let 'em shew
The fairest side to th' world, like hundreds more,
Whose clothes

E'en stand upright in silver, when their bodie[s]
Are ready to drop through 'em : such there be ;
They may deceive the world, they ne'er shall me. \/

Nov. Forgive my doubts ;
And for some satisfaction wear this ring,
From which I vow'd ne'er but to thee to part.

{ 'Tween~\ Old ed. " Turne."

£ populous] i. e. prevalent, common, — or, perhaps, abundant.

246 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

TAI. With which thou everh bind'st me to thy
heart. [Exit Novice,

[singing] O, the parting of us twain

Hath cans' d me micM pain !
And I shall ne'er be married
Until I see my muggle again.
Mis. N. \_peeping in] Hist !
PRI. Ha?
Mis. N. The nimble gentleman, in the celestial

stockings

PRI. Has the best smock-fortune to be beloved
of women. — Valle loo lo, lille lo lillo, valle loo lee
lo lillo !

TAI. Valle loo lo, lille [lo] lillo, valle loo lee lo
lillo !

Mis. N. Ah, sweet gentleman, he keeps it up
stately ! \_Aside.

PRI. Well held, i'faith, sir : mass, and now I
remember too, I think you ne'er saw my little ban
queting box above since I altered it.
TAI. Why, have you altered that ?
PRI. O, divinely, sir ! the pictures are all new
run over again.
TAI. Fie!

h With which thou ever, &c.] After this line the old ed. has
" Exeunt.

Enter Fitsgraue.

Fitsg. My pocket pickt," &c. ;

and after his conversation with the servant and exit (no new
scene being marked),

" Taylb. Oh the parting of vs twaine, Enter Whore Gal.
Hath causde me mickle paine," &c.

But the scene between Fitsgrave and the servant intervenes
here so awkwardly, that I have ventured to make a trans
position.

1 mickle] i. e. great.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 247

PRI. For what had the painter done, think you ?
drew me Venus naked, which is the grace of a
man's room, you know; and, when he had done,
drew a number of oaken leaves before her : had
not lawn been a hundred times softer, made a
better shew, and been more gentlewoman-like ?

TAI. More lady-like a great deal.

PRI. Come, you shall see how 'tis altered now ;
I do not think but you'll like her. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A Street.
Enter FiTSGRAVE.k

FIT. My pocket pick'd ? this was no brothel-
house !

A music-school ? damnation has fine shapes :
I paid enough for the song, I've1 lost a jewel
To me more precious than their souls to them
That gave consent to filch it. I'll hunt hard,
Waste time and money, trace and wheel about,
But I will find these secret mischiefs out.

Enter Servant.

How now ? what's he ?

O, a servant to my love : being thus disguis'd,

I'll learn some news. \_Aslde.~\ — Now, sir? you

belong to me.m

SER. I do, sir ; but I cannot stay to say so : nay,
good sir, detain me not ; I am going in all haste to

k Enter Fitsgrave, &c.] See note in preceding page.
1 I've'] Old ed. " I have."

m you belong to me, &c.] Is the text corrupted here, or is
something wanting ?

248 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

inquire or lay wait for a chain of pearl, nimmed out
of her pocket the fifth of November, a dismal day.

FIT. Ha ! a chain of pearl, sayst thou ?

SER. A chain of pearl, sir, which one master
Fitsgrave, a gentleman and a suitor, fastened upon
her as a pledge of his love.

FIT. Ha!

SER. Urge me no more, I have no more to say ;
Your friend, Jeronimo Bedlam. [Exit.

FIT. Thou'rt a mad fellow indeed.
Some comfort yet, that hers is missing too ;
I feel my soul at much more ease : both stoln !n
When griefs have partners they are better borne.

[Exit.

SCENE III.0

A Room in the Mitred
Where are discovered PRIME RO, Courtesans, Novice,

GOLDSTONE, PURSENET, FRIPPERY, TAILBY, BlJN-

GLER, FULK, ARTHUR, Boy, and Servant.
PRI. Where be your liveries ?

n stoln] Qy., for the sake of the rhyme, "lorn," — i. e. lost.

0 Scene III., &c.] Concerning the transposition of the pre
ceding scene, see note, p. 246. — In the old ed. the present
scene follows the exit of Primero with Tailby (see p. 247)
thus:

" PrL Come, you shall see how tis alterd now ? I do not
thinke but you'le like her. Exit.

Pri. Where be your liueries 1 Enter all at once.

1. They attend without." &c.

The commencement of act iii., which the old ed. does not
mark, might have taken place here, had not the prepos
terous length of act iv. in that ed. obliged me to divide it into
the iii. and iv. acts.

P the Mitre'] See note, p. 240. — The entertainment given by
" the gallants" to Primero and his ladies is supposed to be
just over.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 249

FIRST C. They attend without.

PRI. Go, call the coach. [Exit Servant.'] — Gen
tlemen, you have excelled in kindness as we in
boldness.

TAI. So you think amiss, sir.

GOL. Kind ladies, we commit you to sweet

dreams,

Ourselves unto the fortune of the dice. —
Dice, ho ! [Exit PRIMERO.

FIRST C. You rest firm mine ?

TAI. E'en all my soul to thee.

[Exit First Courtesan.

SEC. C. You keep your vows ?

TAI. Why, do I breathe or see ?

[Exit Sec. Courtesan.

Nov. Is your love constant ?

TAI. Ay, to none but thee. [Exit Novice.

Now gone, ay, now I love nor them nor thee ;
'Slife, I should be cloy'd, should I love one in three.

Enter FITSGRAVE.

PUR. O, here's master Bouser now.

FIT. Save you, sweet gentlemen.

TAI. Sweet master Bouser, welcome.

PUR. When come these dice ?

[Within."] Anon, anon, sir.

PUR. Yet anon, anon, sir !

GOL. Hast thou shewn art in 'em ?

FULK. You shall be judge, sir ; here be the
tavern-beakers, and here peep out the fine alchemy*!
knaves, looking like well, sir, most of our gal
lants, that seem what they are not.

GOL. Peace, villain, am not I in presence ?

FULK. Why, that puts me in mind of the jest, sir.

* alchemy'] See note, vol. iv. p. 122.

250 YO'UR FIVE GALLANTS.

GOL. Again, you chatterer ?P

FULK. Nay, compare 'em, and spare 'em not.

GOL. The bigness of the bore, just the same
size ; the marks, no difference. Away, put money
in thy pocket, and offer to draw in upon the least
occasion.

FULK. I am no babe, sir.

GOL. Hist!

FULK. What's the matter now ?

GOL. Give me a pair of false dice ere you go.

FULK. Pax** on't, you're so troublesome too, you
cannot remember a thing before ! If I stay a little
longer, I shall be staid anon.

Enter Vintner.

VIN. Here be dice for your worships.

PUR. O, come, come !

GOL. The vintner himself?
I'll shift away these beakers by a slight/ [Aside.

VIN. Master Goldstone

GOL. How now, you conjuring rascal?

VIN. Bless your good worship ; you're in hu
mours, methinks.

GOL. Humours ? say that again.

VIN. I said no such word, sir. — Would I had
my beakers out on's fingers ! [Aside.

GOL. What's thy name, vintner ?

VIN. Jack, and8 please your worship.

GOL. Turn knight, like thy companions, scoun
drel, live upon usury, wear thy gilt spurs at thy
girdle for fear of slubbering.

VIN. O no, I hope I shall have more grace than
so, sir ! Pray, let me help your worship.

P chatterer'] Old ed. " quarter her.'*

i Pax] See note, p. 24.

* slight] i. e. contrivance, artifice. s and] i. e. if.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 251

OOL. Cannot I push 'em together without your
help?

VIN. O, I beseech your worship ! they're the
two standards of my house.

GOL. Standards ? there lie your standards.

VIN. Good your worship. — I am glad they are
out of his fingers: my wife shall lock 'em up pre
sently; they shall see no sun this twelvemonth's
day for this trick. [Aside.

GOL. Let me come to the sight of your standards
again.

VIN. Your worship shall pardon me. — Now you
shall not see 'em in haste, I warrant ye. [Aside.

GOL. I do not desire't. Ha, ha!

[Exit Vintner1 with beakers.

FIT. Why, master Goldstone !

GOL. I am for you, gallants. — Master Bouser,
cry you mercy, sir : why supped you from us ?

FIT. Faith, sir, I met with a couple of my fel
low-pupils at university, and so we renewed our
acquaintance and supped together.

GOL. Fie, that's none of the newest fashion, I
must tell you that, master Bouser : you must never
take acquaintance of any a' th' university when you
are at London ; nor any of London when you're
at university : you must be more forgetful, i'faith ;
every place ministers his acquaintance abundantly.

BUN. He tells you true, sir.

GOL. I warrant you here's a gentleman will ne'er
commit such an absurdity.

BUN. Who, I ? no : 'tis well known, if I be dis-

* Exit Vintner, &c.] We are of course to suppose that
Goldstone, while talking with the vintner, contrives to " shift
away the beakers by a slight," and leave in their places the
"alchemy knaves" which Fulk had brought to him: but as I
do not understand how the trick was executed, I have not
ventured to add any stage-directions.

252 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

posed, I'll forget any man in a seven-night, and
yet look him in the face : nay, let him ride but ten
mile from me, and come home again, it shall be at
my choice whether I'll remember him or no : I
have tried that.

GOL. This is strange, sir,

BUN. 'Tis as a man gives his mind to't, sir : and
now you bring me in, I remember 'twas once my
fortune to be cozened of all my clothes, and with
my clothes my money ; a poor shepherd, pitying
me, took me in and relieved me.

GOL. 'Twas kindly done of him, i'faith.

BUN. Nay, you shall see now : 'twas his fortune
likewise, not long after, to come to me in much
distress, i'faith, and with weeping eyes ; and do
you think I remembered him ?

GOL. You could not choose.

BUN. By my troth, not I; I forgot him quite,
and never remembered him to this hour.

GOL. And yet knew who he was ?

BUN. As well as I know you, i'faith : 'tis a gift
given to some above others.

FIT.* To fools and knaves ; they never miss on't.

[Aside.

BUN. Does any make such a wonder at this ?
why, alas, 'tis nothing to forget others ! what say
you to those that forget themselves ?

GOL. Nay, then, to dice : — come, set me, gallants,
set.

FRI. Ay, fall to't, gentlemen,
I shall hear some news from some of you anon :
I'veu th' art to know which lose, and ne'er look on.
I'll be ready with all the worst money I can find
about me. \_Aside.~] — Arthur!

* Fit.'] Old ed. " Gold."
u I've'] Old ed. « I have."

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 253

AR. Here, sir.

FRI. Stand ready.

AR. Fear not me, sir.

GOL. These are mine, sir.

FRI. Here's a washed angel ;v
It shall away : here's mistress rose-noblew
Has lost her maidenhead, crack'd in the ring ;x
She's good enough for gamesters, and to pass ,
From man to man : for gold presents at dice
Your harlot, in one hour won and lost thrice ;
Every man has a fling at her.

TAI. Again ? pax? of these dice !

BUN. 'Tis ill to curse the dead, sir.

TAI.Z Mew, where should I wish the pox but
among bones ?

FIT. He tells you right, sir.

TAI. I ne'er have any luck at these odd hands :
None here to make us six ? why, master Frip !

FRI. I am very well here, I thank you, sir : I
had rather be telling my money myself than have
others count it for me ; 'tis the scurviest music in
the world, methinks, to hear my money gingle in
other men's pockets ; I never had any mind to't,
i'faith.

TAI. 'Slud, play six or play four, I'll play no
more.

GOL. 'Sfoot, you see there's none here to draw in.

v angel] See note, vol. i. p. 250.

w rose-noble] i. e. a gold coin (stamped with a rose) worth
sixteen shillings. -

x cracked in the ring] " The gold coin of our ancestors was
very thin, and therefore liable to crack. It still, however,
continued passable until the crack extended beyond the ring,
i. e. beyond the inmost round which circumscribed the in
scription ; when it became uncurrent, and might be legally
refused." GIFFORD — note on B. Jonson's Works, vol. vi. p. 76.

y pax] See note, p. 24. z TaL] Old ed. " Purs."

VOL. II. Z

254 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

FULK. Rather than you should be destitute, gen
tlemen, I'll play my ten pound, if my master's
worship will give me leave.

PUR. Come.

TAI. He shall, he shall.

GOL. Pray, excuse me, gentlemen. — 'Sfoot, how
now, goodman rascal ? what ! because you served
my grandfather when he went ambassador, and got
some ten pound by th' hand, has that put such
spirit in you to offer to draw in among gentlemen
of worship, knave ?

TAI. Pray, sir, let's entreat so much for once.

PUR. 'Tis a usual grace, i'faith, sir ;
You've many gentlemen will play with their men,

BUN. Ay, and with their maids too, i'faith.

PUR. Good sir, give him leave.

GOL. Yes, come, and2 you be weary on't ; I pray
draw near, sir.

FULK. Not so, sir.

TAI. Come, fool, fear nothing ; I warrant 't ye
has given thee leave : stand here by me. — Come
now, set round, gentlemen, set.

PUR. How the poor fellow shakes ! — Throw
lustily, man.

FULK. At all, gentlemen !

TAI. Well said, i'faith.

PUR. They're all thine.a

TAI. By my troth, I am glad the fellow has such
luck, 'twill encourage him well.

FULK. At my master's worship alone !

GOL. Now, sir slave ?

FULK. At my master's worship alone !

GOL. So, saucy rascal !

FULK. At my master's worship alone !

z and] i. e. if. a thine] Old ed. " mine."

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 255

GOL. You're a rogue, and will be ever one ! b

FULK. By my troth, gentlemen, at all again for
once !

TAI. Take 'em to thee, boy, take 'em to thee ;
thou'rt worthy of 'em, i'faith.

GOL. Gentlemen, faith I am angry with you : go
and suborn my knave again0 me here, to make him
proud and peremptory !

TAI. Troth, that's but your conceit, sir ; the
fellow's an honest fellow, and knows his duty, I
dare swear for him.

PUR. Heart, I am sick already !

GOL. Whither goes master [Pursenet] ?

PUR. Play on ; I'll take my turn, sir. — Boy.

BOY. Master ?

PUR. Hist !d a supply ; — carry't closely, my little
fooker, — how much ?

BOY. Three pound, sir.

PUR. Good boy! take out another lesson.—
How now, gentlemen ?

TAI. Devil's in't, did you e'er see such a hand ?

PUR. I set you these three angels.6

BOY. My master may set high, for all his stakes
are drawn out of other men's pockets. [Aside.

FULK. As I said, gentlemen.

PUR. Deuce, ace !

FULK. At all your right worshipful worships !

PUR. &c.f Death and vengeance !

GOL. Hell, darkness !

TAI. Hold, sir.

PUR. Master Goldstone

GOL. Hinder me not, sweet gentlemen. — You
rascal, I banish thee the board.

b will be ever one"] Old ed. " will be ever be one."

c again] i. e. against. d Hist'] Old ed. " Pist."

e angels'] See note, vol. i. p. 250.
f Pur. &c.l Old ed. " All."

256 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

TAI. I'faith, but you shall not, sir.

GOL. Touch a die, andf thou darest ! come you in
with your lousy ten pound, you slave, among gen
tlemen of worship, and win thirty at a hand ?

TAI. Why, will you kick again^ luck, sir ?

BUN. As long as the poor fellow ventures the
loss of his own money, who can be offended at his
fortunes ?

FULK. I have a master here ! many a gentleman
would be glad to see his man come forward, aha.

PUR. Pray, be persuaded, sir.

GOL. 'Slife, here's none cuts my throat in play

but he ;
I have observ'd it, an unlucky slave 'tis.

BUN. Methinks his luck's good enough, sir.

GOL. Upon condition, gentlemen, that I may
ever bar him from the board hereafter, I am con
tent to wink at him.

PUR. Faith, use your own pleasure hereafter ;
has won our money now. — Come to th' table, sir ;
your master's friends with you.

FULK. Pray, gentlemen —

TAI. The fiend's in't, I think : I left a fair chain
of pearl at my lodging too, like an ass, and ne'er
remembered it ; that would ha' been a good pawn
now. — Speak, what do you lend upon these, master
Frip ? [Offering his weapons, with girdle and hanger s~\
I care not much if you take my beaver hat too, for
I perceive 'tis dark enough already, and it does but
trouble me here.

FRI. Very well, sir ; why, now 1 can lend you
three pound, sir.

TAI. Prithee, do't quickly then.

FRI. There 'tis, in six angels.h

f and'} i. e. if. * again'] See note, p. 255.

h angels'] See note, vol. i. p. 250.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 257

TAI. Very compendiously.

FRI. Here, Arthur, run away with these pre
sently ; I'll enter 'em into th' shop-book to-morrow.
[Exit ARTHUR with weapons, <^c.] [Writing] Item,
one gilt hatchth rapier and dagger, with a fair em
broidered girdle and hangers,1 with which came also a
beaver hat with a correspondent band.

TAI. Push !J i'faith, sir, you're to blame ; you
have snibbedk the poor fellow too much ; he can
scarce speak, he cleaves his words with sobbing.

FULK. Haff,1 haff, haff, haff at all, gentlemen.

GOL. Ah, rogue, I'll make you know yourself!

FULK. At the fairest !

PUR. Out, i'faith ! two aces.

GOL. I am glad of that ; come, pay me all these,
goodman cloak-bag.

PUR. Why, are you the fairest, sir ?

GOL. You need not doubt of that, sir. — Five
angels, you scoundrel !

TAI. Fiem a' these dice ! not one hand to-night !
— There they go, gentlemen, at all, i'faith !

PUR. Pay all with two treys and a quater.

TAI. All curses follow 'em ! pay yourselves
withal. — I'll pawn myself to't, but I'll see a hand
to-night : not once hold in ! — Here, master Frip,
lend me your hand, quick, quick ; so.

[Taking off his doublet.

FRI. What do you borrow of this doublet now ?

TAI. Ne'er saw the world three days.

FRI. Go to; in regard you're 'a continual cus-

h hatcht] i. e. engraved. * hangers} See note, p. 227.

J Push] See note, vol. i. p. 29.

k snibbed] i. e. snubbed — a form of the word which some
times occurs.

1 Haff, &c.] So old ed. — the spelling being intended to ex
press the broken utterance of the speaker.

m Fie, &c.] The old ed. gives this speech, "Fie ath these,"
&c., without any prefix.

258 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

tomer I'll use you well, and pleasure you with five
angels" upon't.

TAI. Let me not stand too long i' th' cold for
them.

BUN. Had ever country gentleman such fortune ?
All swoopt away ! I'd need repair to th' broker's.

TAI. If you be in that mind, sir, there sits a
gentleman will furnish you upon any pawn as well
as the publickst broker of 'em all.

BUN. Say you so, sir ? there's comfort in that,
i'faith.

FRI. [Writing] Item, upon his orange-tawny satin
doublet Jive angels.

BUN. But, by your leave, sir, next come0 the
breeches.

FRI. O, I have tongue fit for any thing.

BUN. Saving your tale, sir ; 'tis given me to
understand that you are a gentleman i' th' hun
dred, and deal in the premises aforesaid.

FRI. Master Bungler, master Bungler, you're
mightily mistook : I am content to do a gentle
man a pleasure for once, so his pawn be neat and
sufficient.

BUN. Why, what say you to my grandfather's
seal-ring here ?

FRI. Ay, marry, sir, this is somewhat like.

BUN. Nay, view it well ; an ancient arms, I can
tell you.

FRI. What's this, sir ?

BUN. The great cod-piece, with nothing in't.

FRI. How!

BUN. The wordP about it, Parturiunt monies.

FRI. What's that, I pray, sir ?

BUN. You promise to mount us.

n angels] See note, vol. i. p. 250.
0 come} Old ed. " comes."
P word] i. e. motto.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 259

FRI. And belike he was not so good as his word ?

BUN. So it should seem by the story, for so our
names came to be Bunglers.

FRI. A lamentable hearing, that so great a house
should shrink and fall to ruin !

PUR. Two quaters, and yet lose it? heart! —
Boy ! — i'faith, what is't ?

BOY. Five pound, sir.

PUR. By my troth, this boy goes forward well ;
ye shall see him come to his preferment i' th' end !

GOL. Why, how now ? who's that, gentlemen ? a
bargeman ?

TAI. I never have any luck, gallants, till my
doublet's off; I'm not half nimble enough. At this
old cinque-quater drivel-beard !

GOL.P Your worship must pay me all these, sir.

TAI. There, and feast the devil with 'em !

PUR. Hell gnaw these dice !

GOL. What, do you give over, gallants ?

FIT/I Is't not time ?

TAI. I protest I have but one angel left to guide
me home to my lodging.

GOL. How much, thinkest ?

FULK. Some fourscore angels, sir.

GOL. Peace, we'll join powers anon, and see
how strong we are in the whole number. Mass,
yon gilt goblet stands so full in mine eye, the
whorson tempts me ; it comes like cheese after a
great feast, to disgestr the rest : he will hardly
'scape me, i'faith, I see that by him already : back
for a parting blow now. — Boy !

f GoL] Old ed. " Purs." which the next speech of Pur-
senet shews to be wrong : but, perhaps, the prefix should be
" Fulk."

i Fit.'] Old ed. " Fulk."

r disgest] Frequently found in our old writers for digest.

260 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

Re-enter Vintner.

VIN. Anon, anon, sir.

GOL. Fetch a pennyworth of soft wax to seal
letters.

VIN. I will, sir. [Exit.

TAI. Nay, had not I strange casting ? thrice to
gether two quaters and a deuce !

PUR. Why, was not I as often haunted with two
treys and a quater ?

Re-enter Vintner.

VIN. There's wax for your worship. — Anon,
anon, sir. \JExit.

GOL. Screen me a little, you whorson old cross-
biter/

FULK. Why, what's the business ? filch it on
hob goblet !

PUR. And what has master Bouser lost ?

FIT. Faith, not very deeply, sir; enough for a
scholar, some half a score royals.

PUR. 'Sfoot, I have lost as many with spurs8 at
their heels.

Re-enter Vintner with two Drawers.
GOL. Come, gallants, shall we stumble ?
TAI. What's a' clock ?

FIRST D. Here's none on't, Dick ; the goblet's
carried down.

GOL. Nay, 'tis upon the point of three, boy.

SEC. D. What's* to be done, sirs ?

VIN. All's paid, and your worships are wel-

r cross-biter] i. e. cheater.

* royals . ... as many with spurs, &c.] i. e. spur-royals —
gold coins (with a star on the reverse resembling the rowel of
a spur) worth fifteen shillings.

* Sec. D. What's, &c.] Old ed. gives " Drawer, what's to
be done, sirs ?" as part of Goldstone's speech.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 261

come ; only there's a goblet missing, gentlemen,
and cannot be found about house.

GOL. How, a goblet ?

PUR. What manner a' one ?

VIN. A gilt goblet, sir, of an indifferent size.

GOL. 'Sfoot, I saw such a one lately.

VIN. It cannot be found now, sir.

GOL. Came there no strangers here ?

VIN. No, sir.

GOL. This [is] a marvellous matter, that a goblet
should be gone, and none but we in the room ; the
loss is near all,* here as we are ; keep the door,
vintner.

VIN. No, I beseech your worship.

GOL. By my troth, vintner, we'll have a privy
search for this. What ! we are not all one woman's
children.

VIN. I beseech ye, gentlemen, have not that
conceit of me, that I suspect your worships.

GOL. Tut, you are an ass ; do you know every
man's nature ? there's a broker i' th' company.

PUR. 'Slife, you have not stole the goblet, boy,
have you ?

BOY. Not I, sir.

PUR. I was afraid. — 'Tis a good cause, i'faith,
let each man search his fellow : we'll begin with
you.

TAI. I shall save somebody a labour, gentlemen,
for I'm half searched already.

PUR. I thought the goblet had hung here, i'faith ;
none here, nor here.

GOL. Seek about floor. — What was the goblet
worth, vintner ?

VIN. Three pound ten shillings, sir ; no more.

* near all] i. e. touches all nearly — if, indeed, that be the
right reading. Old ed. " meere all"

262 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

GOL. Pox on't, gentlemen, 'tis but angelsu a-
piece : it shall be a brace of mine, rather than I
would have our reputations breathed upon by all
comers ; for you must think they'll talk on't in all
companies — such a night, in such a company, such
a goblet : 'sfoot, it may grow to a gangrene in our
credits, and be incurable.

TAI. Faith, I am content.

FRI. So am I.

PUR. There's my angel too.

GOL. So, and mine. — I'll tell thee what, the
missing of this goblet has dismayed the gentlemen
much.

VIN. I am sorry for that, sir.

GOL. Yet they send thee this comfort by me ; if
they see thee but rest satisfied, and depart away
contented, which will appear in thy countenance,
not three times thrice the worth of the goblet shall
hang between them and thee, both in their con
tinual custom and all their acquaintances'.

VIN. I thank their worships all ; I am satisfied.

GOL. Say it again. — Do you hear, gentlemen ?

VIN. I thank your worships all ; I am satisfied.
[Exeunt Vintner and Drawers.

GOL. Why, la, was not this better than hazarding
our reputations upon trifles, and in such public
as a tavern, such a questionable place ?

TAI. True.

PUR. Faith,v it was well thought on.

GOL. Nay, keep your way, gentlemen : I have
sworn, master Bouser, I will be last, i'faith. [Exeunt
all except GOLDSTONE and FULK.] — Rascal, the
goblet !

u angels'] See note, vol. i. p. 250.

v Pur. Faith, ~| Given in old ed., as one speech, to Pur-
Gol. Nay, &c.J senet.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 263

FULK. Where, sir ?

GOL. Peep yon,w sir, under.

FULK. Here, sir.* [Exeunt.

ACT III.Y SCENE I.

A Room in TAILBY'S Lodging.
Enter TAILBY reading a letter.

TAI. [reads] My husband is rode from home : make
no delay ; I know, if your mill be as free as your
horset you mill see me yet ere dinner. From Kingston,
this eleventh of November. — Hah ! these women are
such creatures, such importunate, sweet souls,
they'll scarce give a man leave to be ready ;z that's
their only fault, i'faith : if they be once set upon a
thing, why, there's no removing of 'em, till their
pretty wills be fulfilled. O, pity thy poor oppressed
client here, sweet Cupid, that has scarce six hours'
vacation in a month, his causes hang in so many
courts ! yet never suffer my French adversary,
nor his big swoln confederates, to overthrow me,
Who without mercy would my blood carouse,
And lay me in prison in a doctor's house.
Thy clemency, great Cupid! — Peace, who comes
here?

Enter PURSENET.

PUR. Sir gallant, well encountered.

TAI. I both salute and take my leave together.

w yon] i. e. yonder.

* Here, sir] Not knowing how this second piece of knavery
is managed (see note, p. 251), I have not attempted to supply
any stage-directions. Goldstone seems to have removed the
goblet from the place where it " hung" (see p. 261), and to
have hid it somewhere, till all except himself and Fulk had
left the room.

y Act ///.] Old ed. " Actus 4:" see note, p. 248.

z be ready~\ i. e. dress himself: compare p. 224 and note.

264 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

PUR. Why, whither so fast, sir ?

TAI. Excuse me, pray ; I'm in a little haste ;
My horse waits for me.

PUR. What, some journey toward ?a

TAI. A light one, i'faith, sir.

PUR. I'mb sorry that my business so commands me,
I cannot ride with you ; but I make no question
You have company enough.

TAI. Alas, not any ! — nor do I desire it. — {Aside.
Why, 'tis but to Kingston yonder.

PUR. O, cry you mercy, sir.

TAI. 'Scape but one reach, there's little danger
thither.

PUR. True, a little of Combe Park.c

TAI. You've nam'd the place, sir ; that's all I
fear, i'faith.

PUR. Farewell, sweet master Tailby. [Exit TAIL.
This fell out happily ;

I'll call this purchase11 mine before I greet him ;
E'en where his fear lies most, there will I meet him.

SCENE II.e

Combe Park.
Enter PURSENET with a scarf over his face, and Boy.

PUR. Boy.
BOY. Sir?

a toward'] See note, p. 177. b Fm\ Old ed. « I am."

c Combe Park'] Lands so called in the parish of Kingston
upon Thames : see Manning and Bray's Hist, of Surrey, vol. i.
p. 401. — In The Black Book (reprinted in the last vol. of Mid-
dleton's Works}, Lucifer makes " a high thief on horseback"
the " keeper of Combe Park."

d purchase"} See note, vol. i. p. 319.

e Scene //.] Here in the old ed. no new scene is marked :
after Pursenet had spoken the words " there will I meet him,"
arid thrown a scarf over his face (see what follows), the
audience were to suppose that the stage represented Combe
Park : vide note, p. 147.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 265

PUR. Walk my horse behind yon thicket ; give a
word if you descry.

BOY. I have all perfect, sir. [Exit.

PUR. So; he cannot now be long. What with
my boy's dexterity at ordinaries, and my gelding's
celerity over hedge and ditch, but we make pretty
shift to rub out a gallant ; for I have learnt these
principles :

Stoop thou to th' world, 'twill on thy bosom tread ;
It stoops to thee, if thou advance thy head.
The mind being far more excellent than fate,
'Tis fit our mind then be above our state.
Why should I write my extremities in my brow,
To make them loathe me that respect me now ?
If every man were in his courses known,
Legs that now honour him might spurn him down.
To conclude, nothing seems as it is but honesty,
and that makes it so little regarded amongst us.

BOY [within]. Ela, ha, ho !

PUR. The boy ?

He's hard at hand ; I'll cross him suddenly :
And here he comes. —

Enter TAILBY.

Stand !
TAI. Ha!

PUR. Deliver your purse, sir.
TAI. I feared none but this place, i'faith ; nay,

when my mind gives me a thing once

PUR. Quick, quick, sir, quick ;
I must despatch three robberies yet ere night.

TAI. I'm glad you have such good doings, by
my troth, sir.

PUR. You'll fare ne'er6 a whit the better for

your flattery,
I warrant you, sir.

e ne'er'] Old ed. " never."
VOL. II. A A

266 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

TAI. I speak sincerely ; 'tis pity such a proper-
parted gentleman should want ; nor shall you, as
long as I have't about me. [PURSENET rrftes his
pockets.'] Nay, search and spare not : there's a
purse in my left pocket, as I take it, with fifteen
pound in gold in't, and there's a fair chain of pearl
in the other : nay, I'll deal truly with you ; it
grieves me, i'faith, when I see such goodly men in
distress ; I'll rather want it myself than they should
go without it.

PUR. And that shews a good nature, sir.

TAI. Nay, though I say it, I have been always
accounted a man of a good nature ; 1 might have
hanged myself ere this time else. Pray, use me like
a gentleman ; take all, but injuryf not my body.

PUR. You must pardon me, sir ;
I must a little play the usurer,
And bind you, for mine own security.

TAI. Alas, there's no conscience in that, sir !
shall I enter into bond and pay money too ?

PUR. Tut, I must not be betrayed.

TAI. Hear me but what I say, sir ; I do protest
I would not be he that should betray a man, to be
prince of the world.

PUR. Mass, that's the „ devil, — I thank you

heartily, —
For he's call'd prince a' th' world.

TAI. You take me still at worst.

PUR. Swear on this sword, then,
To set spurs to your horse, not to look back,
To give no marks to any passenger.

TAI. Marks ?s why, I think you have left me
ne'er a penny, sir.

f injury'] So in The Wisdome of Doctor Dodypoll, 1600 ;
" Ashamed that you should iniurie your estate
To kneele to me." Sig. H 2.

g marks'] See note, p. 226.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 267

PUR. I mean, no marks of any.s

TAI. I understand you, sir.

PUR. Swear then.

TAI. I'faith, I do, sir.

PUR. Away !

TAI. I'm gone, sir. — By my troth, of a fierce
thief he seems to be a very honest gentleman.

[Exit.

PUR. Why, this was well adventur'd, trim a

gallant !

Now, with a covetous11 and long-thirsting eye,
Let me behold my purchase,1

And try the soundness of my bones with laughter.
How ? is not this the chain of pearl I gave
To that perjured harlot ? 'tis, 'sfoot, 'tis,
The very chain ! — O damned mistress ! — Ha !
And this the purse which, not five days before,
I sent her fill'd with fair spur -royals ?J Heart,
The very gold ! 'Slife, is this no robbery ?
How many oaths flew toward heaven,
Which ne'er came half-way thither, but, like fire-
drakes,11

Mounted a little, gave a crack, and fell :
Feign'd oaths bound up to sink more deep to hell.
What folded paper's this ? death, 'tis her hand !
[reads'] Master Tailby, you know with what affection
I love you. You do ? / count the world but as my
prey to maintain you. The more dissembling quean
you, I must tell you. I have sent you an embroidered
purse here with Jifty fair spur -royals in't. A pox
on you for your labour, wench ! And I desire
you of all loves to keep that chain of pearl from

% any'] Has a word, which followed this, dropt out ?

h covetous] Old ed. " courteous."

1 purchase} See note, vol. i. p. 319.

J spur-royals'] See note, p. 260.

k fire-drakes'] i. e. a sort of fire-works.

268 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

master Pursenet's sight. He cannot, strumpet ; I
behold it now, unto thyk secret torture. So fare
thee well, but be constant and want nothing — as long
as I ha't, i'faith ! methinks it should have gone so.
Well, what a horrible age do we live in, that a man
cannot have a quean to himself! let him but turn
his back, the best of her is chipt away like a court
loaf, that when a man comes himself, has nothing
but bumbast ; and these are two simple chippings
here. Does my boy pick and I steal to enrich my
self, to keep her, to maintain him ? why, this is
right the sequence of the world. A lord maintains
her, she maintains a knight, he maintains a whore,
she maintains a captain. So in like manner the
pocket keeps my boy, he keeps me, I keep her, she
keeps him ; it runs like quicksilver from one to
another. 'Sfoot, I perceive I have been the chief
upholder of this gallant all this while : it appears
true, we that pay dearest for our pasture1 are ever
likely worse used. 'Sfoot, he has a nag can run
for nothing, has his choice, nay, and gets by the
running of her.m O fine world, strange devils, and
pretty damnable affections !

BOY [within]. Lela, ha, ho !

PUR. There, boy, again ; what news there ?

Re-enter Boy.

BOY. Master, hist," master !

PUR. How now, boy ?

BOY. I have descried a prize.

PUR. Another, lad ?

BOY. The gull, the scholar.

PUR. Master Bouser ?

BOY. Ay ; comes along this way.

k %] Qy- " my." l pasture] Qy. " pastime."

m her] Old ed. " him." n hist] Old ed. " pist."

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 269

PUR. Without company ?

BOY. As sure as he is your own.

PUR. Back to thy place, boy. [Exit Boy.

I have the luck to-day to rob in safety ;
Two precious cowards ! Whist ; I hear him. —

Enter FITSGRAVE.

Stand !

FIT. You lie ; I came forth to go.
PUR. Deliver your purse.
FIT. Tis better in my pocket.
PUR. How now ? at disputations, signior fool ?
FIT. I've so much logic to confute a knave,
A thief, a rogue !

[Attacks and strikes PURSENET down.
PUR. Hold, hold, sir, andn you be a gentleman,
hold ! let me rise.

FIT. Heart!

'Tis the courtesy of his scarf unmask'd him to me
Above the lip by chance : I'll counterfeit. [Aside.
Light ! because I am a scholar, you think belike
that scholars have no metal in 'em, but you shall
find, — I have not done with you, cousin.
PUR. As you're a gentleman !
FIT. As you're a rogue !
PUR. Keep on upon your way, sir.

FIT. You bade me stand

PUR. I have been once down for that.
FIT. And then deliver.

PUR. Deliver me from you, sir ! — O, pax0 on't,

has wounded me! — Ela, ha, ho! my horse, my

horse, boy ! [Exit.

FIT. Have you your boy so ready ? O thou

world, /*

How art thou muffled in deceitful forms !

n and'] i. e. if. ° pax~\ See note, p. 24.

270 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

There's such a mist of these, and still hath been,
The brightness of true gentry is scarce seen.
This journey was most happily assign'd ;
I've0 found him dross both in his means and mind.
What paper's this he dropt ? I'll look on't as I go.

[Exit.

SCENE III.

Near Combe Park.
Enter PURSENET and Boy.

PUR. A gull call you him ? let me always set
upon wise men ; they'll be afraid of their lives ; they
have a feeling of their iniquities, and know? what
'tis to die with fighting : 'sfoot, this gull lays on with
out fear or wit. How deep's it, sayst thou, boy ?

BOY. By my faith, three inches, sir.

PUR. La, this was long of you, you rogue !

BOY. Of me, sir ?

PUR. Forgive me, dear boy ; my wound ached,
and I grew angry : there's hope of life, boy, is
there not?

BOY. Pooh, my life for yours !

PUR. A comfortable boy in man's extremes ! I
was ne'er so afraid in my life but the fool^ would
have seen my face : he had me at such advantage,
he might have commanded my scarf. I 'scaped
well there ; 't'ad choked me ; my reputation had
been past recovery : yet live I unsuspected, and
still fit for gallants' choice societies. But here I
vow, if e'er I see this Bouser when he cannot see
me, either in by -lane, privilege[d] place, court,
alley, or come behind him when he's standing,**

0 I've] Old ed. " I have." P know'] Old ed. " knowes."

* standing] A word that followed this seems to have dropt
out.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 271

Or take him when he reels from a tavern late,
Pissing again^ a conduit, wall, or gate ;
When he's in such a plight, and clear from me[n],
I'll do that I'mr asham'd to speak till then. [Exit.

SCENE IV.

A Street.
Enter FITSGRAVES and Gentleman.

FIT. Nay, read forward : I have found three of
your gallants, like your bewitching shame,* merely
sophistical : there's your bawd-gallant, your pocket-
gallant, and your whore-gallant.

GEN. [reads] Master Tailby.

FIT. That's he.

GEN. [reads'] I count the world but as my prey to
maintain you.

FIT. That's just the phrase and style of 'em all
to him ; they meet altogether in one effect, and it
may well hold too, for they all jump upon one
cause, subaudi lechery.

GEN. What shapes can flattery take ! Let me

entreat you,

Both in the virgin's right and our good hopes,
Since your hours are so fortunate, to proceed.

i again] See note, p. 255. r I'm] Old ed., " I am."

* Enter Fitsgrave and Gentleman} Old ed. " Enter two Gen
tlemen :" but one of them is certainly Fitsgrave, who has put
into the hands of his companion the letter which Pursenet
had dropt : see the last line of sc. ii. of this act. Besides, the
first speaker here declares that he has found " three of the
gallants ;" and Fitsgrave, in act iv. sc. 5, says,

" The hroker-gallant and the cheating-gallant,
Now I have found 'em all."

* shame'] Qy. " charm."

272 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

FIT. Why, he's base that faintsu until he crown
his deed. [Exit.

SCENE V.
A Room in PRIME RO'S House.

Enter PURSENET (his arm in a scarf) and Boy,
meeting First Courtesan.

PUR. See that dissembling devil, that perjur'd
strumpet ! [Aside.

FIRST C. Welcome, my soul's best wish. O, out,

alas !
Thy arm bound in a scarf? I shall swoon instantly.

PUR. Heart, and I'll fetch you again in the same
tune. [Aside.

O my unmatch'd love, if any spark of life remain,
Look up, my comfort, my delight, my

FIRST C. O good, O good !

PUR. The organ of her voice is tun'd again ;
There's hope in women when their speech returns ;
See, like the raoon after a black eclipse,
She by degrees recovers her pure light.
How cheers my love ?

FIRST C. As one new-wak'd out of a deadly

trance,
The fit scarce quiet.

PUR. 'Twas terrible for the time ;
I'd much ado to fetch you.

FIRST C. 'Shrew your fingers ! [Aside.

How came my comfort wounded ? speak.

PUR. Faith, in a fray last night.

FIRST C. In a fray ? will you lose your blood
so vainly ?

u faints] Old ed. " faires."

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 273

Many a poor creature lacks it. Tell me how ?
What was the quarrel ?

PUR. Loath to tell you that.

FIRST C. Loath to tell me ?

PUR. Yet 'twas my cause of coming.

FIRST C. Why, then, must not I know it ?

PUR. Since you urge it, you shall,
You're a strumpet !

FIRST C. O, news abroad, sir !

PUR. Say you so ?

FIRST C. Why, you knew that the first night you
lay with me.

PUR. Nay, not to me only, but to the world.

FIRST C. Speak within compass, man.

PUR. Faith, you know none, you sail without.

FIRST C. I have the better skill then.

PUR. At my first step into a tavern-room, to spy
That chain of pearl wound on a stranger's arm
You begg'd of me !

FIRST C. How ? you mistook it sure.

PUR. By heaven, the very self-same chain !

FIRST C. O, cry you mercy, 'tis true, I'd forgot
it : 'tis St. George's day to-morrow : I lent it to my
cousin only to grace his arm before his mistress.

PUR. Notable cunning !

FIRST C. And is this all now, i'faith ?

PUR. Not ; I durst go further.

FIRST C. Why, let me never possess your love
if you see not that again a' Thursday morning :
I take't unkindly, i'faith, you should fall out with
me for such a trifle.

PUR. Better and better !

FIRST C. Come, a kiss, and friends !

PUR. Away !

FIRST C. By this hand, I'll spoil your arm andv
you will not.

v and~\ i. e. if.

274 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

PUR. More for this than the devil

Enter GOLDSTONE, TAILBY, FITSGRAVE, BUNGLER,
and Courtesans.

GOL. Yea, at your book so hard ?w

PUR. Against my will. — Are you there, signior

Logic ?
A pox of you, sir ! [Aside.

GOL. Why, how now ? what has fate sent us
here, in the name of Venus, goddess of Cyprus ?

PUR. A freebooter's pink, sir, three or four
inches deep.

GOL. No more ? that's conscionable, i 'faith.

TAX. Troth, I'm sorry for't : pray, how came it,
sir ?

PUR. Faith, by a paltry fray, in Coleman Street.

FIT. Combe Park he would say. [Aside.

PUR. No less than three at once, sir,
Made a triangle with their swords and daggers,
And all opposing me.

FIT. And amongst those three only one hurt
you, sir ?

PUR. Ex for ex.x

TAI. Troth, and I'll tell you what luck I had
too, since I parted from you last.

PUR. What, I pray ?

TAI. The day you offered to ride with me, I wish
now I'd had your company : 'sfoot, I was set upon
in Combe Park by three too.

PUR. Bah!

TAI. Robbed, by this light, of as much gold and
jewels as I valued at forty pound.

w Yea, at your book so hard~] Perhaps it is hardly worth
noticing, that, in the Third Part of Henry VL, act v. sc. 6,
Gloster says to Henry,

" Good day, my lord : what, at your look so hard ?"

x Ex for ex~\ Can this expression mean " ecce, for ex
ample ?"

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 275

PUR. Sure Saturn is in the fifth house. sx

TAI. I know not that ; he may be in the sixth
he will for me : I am sure they were in my
pocket wheresoever they are ;z but I'll ne'er re
fuse a gentleman's company again when 'tis offered
me, I warrant you.

GOL. I must remember you 'tis Mitre-night,a
ladies.

SEC. C. Mass, 'tis indeed Friday to-day, I'd
quite forgot : when a woman's busy, how the time
runs away !

FIRST C. O, you've betrayed us both !

TAI. I understand you not.

FIRST C. You've let him see the chain of pearl

I gave you.
TAI. Who ? him ? will you believe me, by this

hand,
He never saw it.

FIRST C. Upon a stranger's arm he swore to me.
TAI. Mass, that may be ; for the truth is, i'faith,
I was robb'd on't at Combe Park.
FIRST. C. 'Twas that betrayed it.
TAI. I would [I] had stay'd him ;
He was no stranger, he was a thief, i'faith,
For thieves will be no strangers.
FIRST C. How shall I excuse it ?
BUN. Nay, I have you fast enough, boy ; you

rogue !
[Seizing the Boy, who had attempted to pick his

pocket.
BOY. Good sir, I beseech you, sir, let me go !

[Struggling*

y and~\ i. e. if. z are} Old ed. " were."

a Mitre-night'] See note, p. 248. — Had the giving of sup
pers to these ladies at the Mitre grown now to a custom ?
b struggling] Old ed. " he thumps."

276 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

BUN. A pickpocket ? nay, you shall to Newgate,
look you. — Is this your boy, sir ?

PUR. How now, boy ? a monster ? thy arm linedb
fast in another's pocket ? where learnt you that
manners ? what company have you kept a' late,
that you are so transformed into a rogue ? that
shape I know not. — Believe me, sir, I much wonder
at the alteration of this boy, where he should get
this nature : as good a child to see to, and as vir
tuous ; he has his creed by heart, reads me his
chapter duly every night ; he will not miss you
one tittle in the nine commandments.

BUN. There's ten of 'em.

PUR. I fear he skips o'er one, Thou shalt not
steal.

BUN. Mass, like enough.

PUR. Else grace and memory would quite abash

the boy. —

Thou graceless imp ! ah, thou prodigious child,
Begot at some eclipse, degenerate rogue,
Shame to thy friends, and to thy master eke !
How far digressing from the noble mind
Of thy brave ancestors, that lie in marble
With their coat-armours o'er 'em !

BUN. Had he such friends ?

PUR. The boy is well descended, though he be
a rogue, and has no feeling on't ; yet for my sake,
and for my reputation's, seek not the blood of the
boy ; he's near allied to many men of worship
now yet living ; a fine old man to his father ; it
would kill his heart, i'faith ; he'd away like a
chrisom.c

b lined'] May be right, — but qy. " limed."
c a chrisom] i. e. an infant, — one who dies within the month
of its birth, and is buried in the chrisome, a white cloth, an

•

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 277

BUN. Alas, good gentleman !

PUR. Ah, shameless villain, complain'st thou ?
dost thou want ?

BOY. No, no, no, no !

PUR. Art not well clad ? thy hunger well re
sisted ?

BOY. Yes, yes, yes, yes !

PUR. But thou shalt straight to Bridewell —

BOY. Sweet master !

PUR. Live upon bread and water and chap-choke.

BOY. I beseech your worship !

BUN. Come, I'll be his surety for once.

PUR. You shall excuse me indeed, sir.

BUN. He will mend ; 'a may prove an honest
man for all this. I know gallant gentlemen now
that have done as much as this comes to in their
youth.

PUR. Say you so, sir ? /

BUN. And as for Bridewell, that will but make </
him worse ; 'a will learn more knavery there in
one week than will furnish him and his heirs for a
hundred year.

PUR. Deliver the boy !

BUN. Nay, I tell you true, sir ; there's none
goes in there a quean, but she comes out an arrant
whore, I warrant you.

PUR. The boy comes not there for a million !

emblem of Christian innocency, which was thrown over it at
baptism, and which it was to wear till the mother came to be
purified, when the cloth was returned to the church.

Before the Reformation, in the old baptismal office, the
chrisom cloth was put on the child's head, to prevent, ac
cording to Ducange in Chrismate, the holy oil (xpifff^a) from
running off.

Compare Shakespeare's Henry V. act ii. sc. 3, where dame
Quickly says of Falstaff, " 'a made a finer end, and tvent away
an it had been any christom child."
VOL. II. B B

278 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

BUN. No, you had better forgive him by ten
parts.

PUR. True ; but 'a must not know it comes from

me. —

Down a' your knees, you rogue,
And thank this gentleman has got your pardon.

BOY. O, I thank your worship !

PUR. A pox on you for a rogue ;
You put me to my set speech once a quarter.

[Aside to him.

GOL. Nay, gentlemen, you quite forget your

hour ;
Lead, master Bouser.

[Exeunt all but GOLDSTONE and Second Courtesan.

SEC. C. Let me go : you're a dissembler.

GOL. How?

SEC. C. Did not you promise me a new gown ?

GOL. Did I not ? yes, faith, did I, and thou shalt
have it. — Go, sirrah, [calling to one off the stage~]
run for a tailor presently. Let me see for the colour
now : orange-tawney, peach colour — what sayst to
a watchetc satin ?

Enter Tailor.

SEC. C. O, 'tis the only colour I affect !

TAI. A very orient colour, an't please your
worships. I made a gown on't for a gentlewoman
t'other day, and it does passing well upon her.

GOL. A watchet satin gown

TAI. There your worship left, sir.

GOL. Laid about, tailor

TAI. Very good, sir.

GOL. With four fair laces.

TAI. That will be costly, sir.

GOL. How, you rogue, costly ? out a' th' house,

c watchet'] i. e. light blue.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 279

you slipshod, sham -legged, brown -thread -penny-
skeined rascal !

SEC. C. Nay, my sweet love {Exit Tailor.

GOL. Hang him, rogue ! he's but a botcher
neither : come, I'll send thee a fellow worth a
hundred of this, if the slave were clean enough.

[Exeunt.

ACT IV. SCENE I.

Before TAILBY'S Lodging.

Enter a Servant* bringing in a suit of satin, who knocks
at TAILBY'S door, from which enter JACK.

JACK. Who knocks ?

SER. A Christian : pray, is not this master
Tailby's lodging ? I was directed hither.

JACK. Yes, this is my master's lodging.

SER. Cry you mercy, sir : is he yet stirring ?

JACK. He's awake, but not yet stirring, for he
played away half his clothes last night.

SER. My mistress commends her secrets unto
him, and presents him by me with a new satin
suit here.

JACK. Mass, that comes happily.

SER. And she hopes the fashion will content
him.

JACK. There's no doubt to be had of that, sir :
your mistress' name, I pray ? you're much pre
ciously welcome.

d Enter a Servant, Sec.] The old ed. (in which the com
mencement of act iv. is marked much earlier, see note,
p. 263) has, " In the midst of the musick enter one bringing
in," &c.

280 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

SER. I thank you uncommonly, sir.

JACK. The suit shall be accepted, I warrant you,
sir.

SER. That's all my mistress desires, sir.

JACK. Fare you well, sir.

SER. Fare you well, sir. \_Exit.

JACK. This will make my master leap out of the
bed for joy, and dance Wigmore's galliard6 in his
shirt about the chamber !f [Exit into the house.

SCENE II.

A Hall in TAILBY'S Lodging.
Enter TAILBY, and JACK trussing hiw.%

TAX. Came this suit from mistress Cleveland ?

JACK. She sent it secretly, sir.

TAI. A pretty requiteful squall ! I like that
woman that can remember a good turn three
months after the date ; it shews both a good me
mory and a very feeling spirit.

JACK. This came fortunately, sir, after all your
ill luck last night.

TAI. I'd beastly casting, Jack.

JACK. O abominable, sir ! you had the scurviest
hand : the old serving-man swooped up all.

TAI. I am glad the fortune lighted upon the

e Wigmore's galliard'} Is frequently mentioned by our early
writers : see a galliard minutely described, note, vol. i. p. 65.

f the chamber"] After these words the stage-direction in the
old ed. is, " The musicke plaies on a while, then enter Tailbee
his man after trussing him."

s trussing him] i. e. tying his points : see note, vol. i,
p.- 367.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 281

poor fellow, by my troth ; it made his master
mad.

JACK. Did you mark that, sir ? I warrant he has
the doggedest master of any poor fellow under the
dog-sign : I'd rather serve your worship, I'll say
that behind your back, sir, for nothing, as indeed
I have no standing wages at all, your worship
knows.

TAI. O, but your vails, Jack, your vails con
sidered, when you run to and fro between me and
mistresses

JACK. I must confess my vails are able to keep
an honest man, go I where I list.

TAI. Go to then, Jack.

JACK. But those vails stand with the state of
your body, sir, as long as you hold up your head :
if that droop once, farewell you, farewell I, fare
well all ; and droop it will, though all the caudles
in Europe should put to their helping hands to't :
'tis e'en as uncertain as playing, now up and now
down ;h for if the bill down rise to above thirty,
here's no place for players ; so if your years rise
to above forty, there's no room for old lechers.

TAI. And that's1 the reason all rooms are taken
up for young templars.

JACK. You're in the right, sir.

TAI. Pize on't, I pawned a good beaver hat to
master Frip last night, Jack : I feel the want of it
now. Hark, who's that knocks ? [Knocking within.

Enter a Servant, bringing in a letter and a beaver hat.

SER. Is master Tailby stirring ?
JACK. What's your pleasure with him ? he walks
here i' th' hall.

h now down] Old ed. " nowne."
1 that's'] Old ed. " whats."

282 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

SER. Give your worship good morrow.

TAI. Welcome, honest lad.

SER. A letter from my mistress.

TAI. Who's thy mistress ?

SER. Mistress Newblock.

TAI. Mistress Newblock, my sincere love ! how
does she ?

SER. Faith, only ill in the want of your sight.

TAI. Alas, dear sweet ! I've had such business,
T protest I ne'er stood still since I saw her.

SER. She has sent your worship a beaver hat
here, with a band best in fashion.

TAI. How shall I requite this dear soul ?

SER. 'Tis not a thing fit for me to tell you, sir,
for I have three years to serve yet : your worship
knows how, I warrant you.

TAI. I know the drift of her letter ; and for the
beaver, say I accept it highly.

SER. O, she will be a proud woman of that, sir !

TAI. And hark thee ; tell thy mistress, as I'm a
gentleman, I'll despatch her out of hand the first
thing I do, a' my credit : canst thou remember
these words now ?

SER. Yes, sir ; as you are a gentleman, you'll
despatch her out of hand the first thing you do.

TAI. Ay, a' my credit.

SER. O, of your credit; I thought not of that,
sir.

TAI. Remember that, good boy.

SER. Fear it not now, sir. [Exit.

TAI. I dreamt to-night, Jack, I should have a
secret supply out a' th' city.

JACK. Your dream crawls out partly well, sir. —

Enter a Servant, bringing in a purse.
What news there now ?

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 283

SER. I have an errand to master Tailby.

JACK. Yonder walks my master.

SER. Mistress Tiffany commends her to your
worship, and has sent you your ten pound in gold
back again, and says she cannot furnish you of the
same lawn you desire till after All-holland-tideJ

TAI. Thank her she would let me understand so
much. [Exit Servant.'] — Ha, ha !
This wench will live : why, this was sent like a
Workwoman now ; the rest are botchers to her.
Faith, I commend her cunning : she's a fool
That makes her servant fellow to her heart ;
It robs her of respect, dams up all duty,
Keeps her in awe e'en of the slave she keeps :
This takes a wise course — I commend her more —
Sends back the gold I never saw before.
Well, women are my best friends [still], i'faith.
Takek lands : give me
Good legs, firm back, white hand, black eye, brown

hair,

And add but to these five a comely stature ;
Let others live by art, and I by nature. [Exeunt,

SCENE III.

A Room, with a door opening into FITSGRAVE'S
Bed-chamber.

Enter GOLDSTONE.

GOL. Master Bouser, master Bouser ! ha, ha,
ho ! master Bouser !
FIT. [within] Holla!

J All-holland-tide] i. e. All-hallows-tide : see note, p. 165.
k Take'] Old ed. " Takes."

284 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS,

GOL. What, not out of thy kennel, master
Bouser ?

FIT. [within] Master Goldstone ? you're an early
gallant, sir.

GOL. A fair cloak yonder, i'faith. \_Aside.~] — By
my troth, 'a bed. master Bouser ? you remember
your promise well o'ernight !

FIT. [within] Why, what's a' clock, sir ?

GOL. Do you ask that now ? why, the chimes
are spent at Saint Bride's.

FIT. [nithiri] 'Tis a gentleman's hour : faith,
master Goldstone, I'll be ready in a trice.

GOL. Away, there's no trust to you !

FIT. [within] Faith, I'll come instantly.

GOL. Nay, choose whether you will or no, — by
my troth, your cloak shall go before you.

[Aside, and takes FITSGRAVE'S cloak.

FIT. [within] Nay, master Goldstone, I ha' sworn :
do you hear, sir ?

GOL. Away, away ! faith, I'm angry with you :
pox, a-bed now ! I'm ashamed of it. [Exit.

As GOLDSTONE goes out, FITSGRAVE enters in his
shirt.

FIT. Foot, my cloak, my cloak, master Goldstone !
'slife, what mean you by this, sir ? you'll bring it
back again, I hope. No ? not yet ? by my troth, I
care very little for such kind of jesting : methinks
this familiarity now extends a little too far, unless
it be a new fashion come forth this morning se
cretly ; yesterday 'twould have shewn unmannerly
and saucily. I scarce know yet what to think on't.
Well, there's no great profit in standing in my
shirt, I'll on with my clothes : has bound me to
follow the suit : my cloak's a stranger ; he was
made but yesterday, and I do not love to trust him
alone in company. [Exit.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 285

SCENE IV.

A Street.
Enter FRIPPERY, wearing FITSGRAVE'S cloak.

FRI. What may I conjecture of this Goldstone ?
he has not only pawned to me this cloak, but the
very diamond and sapphire which I bestowed upon
my new love at master Primero's house : the cloak's
new, and comes fitly to do me great grace at a
wedding this morning, to which I was solemnly
invited. I can continue change more than the
proudest gallant of 'em all, yet never bestow penny
of myself, my pawns do so kindly furnish me : but
the sight of these jewels is able to cloy me, did I
not preserve my stomach the better for the wed
ding-dinner. A gift could never have come in a
more patient hour, nor to be better disgested.1 Is
she proved false ?
But I'll not fret to-day nor chafe my blood.

Enter PURSENET.

PUR. Ha ! yonder goes Bouser : the place is fit.
— [Calling out to Boy withm.~\ Boy, stand with my
horse at corner. —
I owe you for a pink three inches deep, sir.

\_Strikes down FRIPPERY.
FRI. 0—0—0 !

PUR. Take that in part of payment for Combe
Park. [Exit.

FRI. O— O— O!

Enter FITSGRAVE.

FIT. How now, who's this ? 'sfoot, one of our
gallants knocked down like a calf! Is there such

1 disgested] See note, p. 259.

286 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

a plague of 'em here at London, they begin to
knock 'em a' th' head already ?

FRI. O master Bouser ! pray, lend me your
hand, sir ; I am slain !

FIT. Slain and alive ? O cruel execution !
What man so savage-spirited durst presume
To strike down satin on two taffetas cut,
Or lift his hand against a beaver hat ?

FRI. Some rogue that owes me money, and had
no other means. To a wedding-dinner ! I must
be dressed myself, methinks.

FIT. How ? why, this [is] my cloak : life, how
came my cloak hither ?

FRI. Is it yours, sir ? master Goldstone pawned
it to me this morning fresh and fasting, and bor
rowed five pound upon't.

FIT. How, pawned it ? pray, let me hear out
this story : come, and I'll leadm you to the next
barber-surgeon's. — Pawned my cloak ?

[Exit) leading out FRIPPERY.

SCENE V.

Another Street.
Enter BUNGLER, GOLDSTONE, and MARMADUKE.

BUN. How now, Marmaduke ? what's the wager ?

MAR. Nay, my care is at end, sir, now I am
come to the sight of you. My mistress, your
cousin, entreats you to take part of a dinner with
her at her house," and bring what gentleman you
please to accompany you.

BUN. Thank my sweet coz : I'll munch with her,
say.

m lead'] Old ed. " lend."

11 at her house~\ Old ed. " at home, at her house :" see notes
m andP, p. 134.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 287

MAR. I'll tell her so.

BUN. Marmaduke

MAR. Sir ?

BUN. Will there be any stock-fish, thinkest thou ?

MAR. How, sir ?

BUN. Tell my coz I've a great appetite to stock
fish, i'faith. [Exit MARMADUKE.] — Master Gold-
stone, I'll entreat you to be the gentleman that
shall accompany me.

GOL. Not me, sir ?

BUN. You, sir.

GOL.Q By my troth, concluded. What state bears
thy coz, sirrah ?

BUN. O, a fine merchant's wife.

GOL. Or rather, a merchant's fine wife.

BUN. Trust me, and that's the properer phrase
here at London ; and 'tis as absurd too to call him
fine merchant, for, being at sea, a man knows not
what pickle he is in.

GOL. Why, true.

BUN. Yet my coz will be served in plate, I can
tell you ; she has her silver jugs and her gilt
tankards.

GOL. Fie!

BUN. Nay, you shall see a house dressed up,
i'faith ; you must not think to tread a' th' ground
when you come there.

GOL. No ? how then ?

BUN. Why, upon paths made of fig-frails0 and
white blankets cut out in steaks. P

GOL. Away! — I have thought of a device. \_Aside.~]
— Where shall we meet an hour hence ?

n Gol.] Old ed. " Sung."
0 fig-frails'] i- e- fig-baskets.

P steaks'] Compare vol. i. p. 336, where, as the present
passage shews, the reading " steaks of velvet" is right.

288 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

BUN. In Paul's.

GOL. Agreed. [Exit BUNGLER.

Enter FITSGRAVE.

FIT. The broker -gallant and the cheating -gal
lant :

Now I have found 'em all, I so rejoice,
That the redeeming of my cloak I weigh not.
I have spied him.

GOL. Pax/* here's Bouser.

FIT. Master Goldstone, my cloak ! come, where's
my cloak, sir ?

GOL. O, you're a sure gentleman, especially if a
man stand in need of you ! he may be slain in a
morning to breakfast ere you vouchsafe to peep
out of your lodging.

FIT. How?

GOL. No less than four gallants, as I'm a gentle
man, drew all upon me at once, and opposed me
so spitefully, that I not only lost your cloak i' th'
fray

FIT. Comes it in there ?

GOL. But my rich hangers,' sirrah, — I think
thou hast seen 'em.

FIT. Never, i'faith, sir.

GOL. Those with the two unicorns, all wrought
in pearl and gold : pox on't, it frets me ten times
more than the loss of the paltry cloak : prithee,
and8 thou lovest me, speak no more on't ; it brings
the unicorns into my mind, and thou wouldst not
think how the conceit grieves me. I will not do
thee that disgrace, i'faith, to offer thee any satis
faction,, for in my soul I think thou scornest it ;

i Pax] See note, p. 24.

r hangers] See note, p. 227. s and] i. e. if.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 289

thou bearest that mind, in my conscience ; I have
always said so of thee. Fare thee well : when shall
I see thee at my chamber, when ?

FIT. Every day, shortly.

GOL. I have fine toys to shew thee.

FIT. You win my heart then. [Exit GOLDSTONE.]
The devil scarce knew what a portion he gave his
children when he allowed 'em large impudence to
live upon, and so turned 'em into th' world : surely
he gave away the third part of the riches of his
kingdom ; revenues are but fools to't.
The filed8 tongue and the undaunted forehead
Are mighty patrimonies, wealthier than those
The city-sire or the court-father leaves :
In these behold it : riches oft, like slaves,
Revolt ; they bear their foreheads to their graves.
What soonest grasps advancement, men's* great

suits,

Trips down rich widows, gains repute and name,
Makes way where'er it comes, bewitches all ?
Thou, Impudence ! the minion of our days,
On whose pale cheeks favour and fortune plays.
Call you these your five gallants ? trust me, they're

rare fellows :

They live on nothing ; many cannot live on some
thing ;

Here they may take example. — Stispectless virgin,
How easy had thy goodness been beguil'd !
Now only rests, that as to me they're known,
So to the world their base arts may be shewn.

{Exit.

s filed] i. e. polished.

* men's] Qy. " mends" — i. e. helps.

VOL. II. C C

290 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

SCENE VI.

The Middle Aisle of St. Paul's."
Enter PURSENET and Boy.

PUR. Art sure thou sawest him receive't, boy ?

BOY. Forty pound in gold, as I'm a gentleman
born.

PUR. Thy father gave the ram's head,v boy ?

BOY. No, you're deceived ; my mother gave
that, sir.

PUR. What's thy mother's is thy father's.

Enter PYAMONT.

BOY. I'm sorry it holds in the ram's head. See,
here he walks ; I was sure he came into Paul's :
the gold had been yours, master, long ere this, but
that he wears both his hands in his pockets.

PUR. How unfortunately is my purpose seated !
what the devil should come in his mind to keep
in his hands so long ? the biting but of a paltry
louse would do me great kindness now ; I'd knoww
not how to requite it : will no rascal creature assist
me ? Stay, what if I did impudently salute 'em out ?
good. Boy, be ready, boy.

BOY. Upon the least advantage, sir.

PUR. You're most devoutly met in Paul's, sir.

PY. So are you, but I scarce remember you, sir.

PUR. Oj I cry you mercy, sir ; I pray, pardon
me ; I fear I have tendered an offence, sir : troth,

u The Middle Aisle, &c.] See note, vol. i. p. 418.
v ram's head] As a crest, I suppose.
w I'd know~] Old ed. " I knew."

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 291

I took you at the first for one master Dumpling, a
Norfolk gentleman.

\_While PURSENET speaks, the Boy watches
in vain for an opportunity to pick PYA-
MONT'S pocket.

PY. There's no harm done yet, sir.

PUR. I hope he is there by this time. [Aside.'] —
How now, boy, hast it ?

BOY. No, by troth, have I not ; this labour's
lost : 'tis in the right pocket, and he kept that
hand in sure enough.

PUR. Unpractised gallant ! salute me but with
one hand, like a counterfeit soldier ? O times and
manners ! are we grown beasts ? do we salute by
halves ? are not our limbs at leisure ?
Where's comely nurture ? the Italian kiss,
Or the French cringe, with the Polonian waist ?
Are all forgot ?

Then misery follows. — Surely fate forbade it :
Had he employ'd but his right hand, I'd had it.

Enter BUNGLER.

It must be an everlasting device, I think, that pro
cures both his hands out at once.

[Aside, and exit with Boy.

PY. Do you walk, sir ??

BUN. No, I stay a little for a gentleman's coming
too.

y Do you walk, sir ?~\ Is in the old ed. the conclusion of
Pursenet's speech, whose exit with the Boy is not marked.
As we subsequently learn (see pp. 297, 298) that the sharper
had succeeded in his design on Pyamont's gold, by falling
into a pretended swoon, I cannot help suspecting that a por
tion of this scene has dropt out, and that the incident of the
swoon took place here on the stage, after Pursenet had tried
all other means of surprising Pyamont's caution.

292 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

PY. Farewell then, sir : I have forty pound in
gold about me, which I must presently send down
into the country.

BUN. Fare you well, sir. [Exit PYAMONT.] —
I wonder master Goldstone spares my company so
long ; 'tis now about the navel of the day, upon
the belly of noon.

Enter GOLDSTONE and FULK, both disguised.

GOL. See where he walks : be sure you let off
at a twinkling, now.

FULK. When did I miss you? — Your worship
has forgot you promised mistress Newcut, your
cousin, to dine with her this day.

GOL. Mass, that was well remembered.

BUN. I am bold to salute you, sir.

GOL. Sir?

BUN. Is mistress Newcut your cousin, sir ?

GOL. Yes, she's a cousin of mine, sir.

BUN. Then I am a cousin of yours, by the
sister's side.

GOL. Let me salute you then ; I shall be glad of
your farther acquaintance.

BUN. I am a bidden guest there too.

GOL. Indeed, sir !

BUN. Faith, invited this morning.

GOL. Your good company shall be kindly em
braced, sir.

BUN. I walk a turn or two here for a gentleman,
but I think he'll either overtake me, or be before
me.

GOL. Tis very likely, sir. — There, sirrah, go to
dinner, and about two wait for me.

BUN. Nay, let him come between two and three,
cousin, for we love to sit long at dinner i' th' city.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 293

GOL. Come, sweet cousin.

BUN. Nay, cousin ; keep your way, cousin ; good
cousin, I will not, i'faith, cousin. [Exeunt.

SCENE VII.

A Room in MISTRESS NEWCUT'S House : MARMADUKE
laying the cloth for dinner.

Enter MISTRESS NEWCUT.

Mis. N. Why, how now, sirrah ? upon twelve of
the clock, and not the cloth laid yet ? must we
needs keep Exchange time still ?

MAR. I am about it, forsooth.

Mis. N. You're about it, forsooth ? you're still
about many things, but you ne'er do one well. I
am an ass to keep thee in th' house, now my hus
band's at sea ; thou hast no audacity with thee ; a
foolish, dreaming lad, fitter to be in the garret than
in any place else ; no grace nor manly behaviour :
when didst thou ever come to me but with thy
head hanging down ? O decheerful 'prentice, un
comfortable servant ! [Exit MARMADUKE.] — Pray
heaven the gull, my cousin, has so much wit left
as to bring master Tailby along with him, my com
fort, my delight ! for that was the chiefest cause I
did invite him. I bade him bring what gentleman
he pleased to accompany him ; as far as I durst go :
why may he not then make choice of master Tailby ?
had he my wit or feeling he would do't.

Enter BUNGLER, and GOLDSTONE disguised.

BUN. Where's my sweet cousin here ? does she
lack any guess ?z

z guess] i. e. guests : see note, vol. i p. 326.

294 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

Mis. N. Ever such guess as you : you're wel
come, cousin.

GOL. I am rude, lady.

Mis. N. You're most welcome, sir.

BUN. There will be a gallant here anon, coz ; he
promised faithfully.

Mis. N. Who is't ? master Tailby ?

BUN. Master Tailby ? no, master Goldstone.

Mis. N. Master Goldstone ? I could think well
of that Goldstone were't not for one vilda trick he
has.

GOL. What's that, lady?

Mis. N. In jest he will pawn his punks for
suppers.

GOL. That's a vild part in him, i'faith, andb he
were my brother.

Mis. N. Pray, gentlemen, sit awhile ; your dinner
shall come presently. [Exit.

GOL. Yea, mistress Newcut? at first give me a

trip?
A close bite always asks a secret nip. \As\de.

BUN. My cousin here is a very kind-natured
soul, i'faith, in her humour.

GOL. Pooh, you know her not so well as I, coz ;
I have observed her in all her humours ; you ne'er
saw her a little waspish, I think.

BUN. I have [not], i'faith.

GOL. Pooh, then ye ne'er saw pretty humour in
your life ; I can bring her into't when I list.

BUN. Would you could, i'faith !

GOL. Would I could ? by my troth, and I were
sure thou couldst keep thy countenance, coz, what
a pretty jest have I thought upon already to enter
tain time before dinner !

a vild'] See note, vol. i. p. 94. b and] i. e. if.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 295

BUN. Prithee, coz, what is't ? I love a jest a'
life,c i'faith.

GOL. Ah, but I am jealousd you will not keep
your countenance, i'faith ! Why, ye shall see a
pretty story of a humour.6 Faith, I'll try you for
once : you know my cousin will wonder when she
comes in to see the cloth laid, and ne'er a salt upon
the board.

BUN. That's true, i'faith.

GOL. Now will I stand a while out of sight with
it, and give her humour play a little.

BUN. Coz, dost thou love me ? and thou wilt
ever do any thing for me, do't.

GOL. Marry, I build upon you[r] countenance.

BUN. Why, dost thou think I'm an ass, coz ?

GOL. I would be loath to undertake it else ; for
if you should burst out presently, coz, the jest
would be spoiled.

BUN. Why, do not I know that ? Away, stand
close : [exit GOLDSTONE with the salt-cellar] so, so ;
mum, cousin. — A merry companion, i'faith : here
will be good sport anon, — whist, she comes.

Re-enter MISTRESS NEWCUT.

Mis. N. I make you stayf long for a bad dinner
here, cousin ; if master Goldstone were come, the
meat's e'en ready.

BUN. Some great business detains him, cousin ;
but he'll not be long now.

Mis. N. Why, how now ? cuds my life !

BUN. Why

c a' life] See note, vol. i. p. 272.
d jealous] See note, p. 216.

e Why, ye shall see a pretty story of a humour'] These words
are given to Bungler in the old ed.
f stay~\ Old ed. " stray."

296 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

Mis. N. Was ever mistress so plagued with a
shuttle-headed servant ! — Why, Marmaduke !

Re-enter MARMADUKE.

MAR. I come, forsooth.

Mis. N. Able to shame me from generation to
generation !

MAR. Did you call, forsooth ?

Mis. N. Come hither, forsooth : did you lay this
cloth ?

Mar. Yes, forsooth.

Mis. N. Do you use to lay a cloth without a
salt, a salt, a salt, a salt, a salt, a salt !

MAR. How many salts would you have ? I'm
sure I set the best i' th' house upon the board.

BUN. How, cousin ? [sings] Cousin, cousin) did
call, coz ?

Mis. N. Did you see a salt upon the board when
you came in ?

BUN. Pooh!

Mis. N. Come, come, I thought as much ; be-
shrew your fingers, where is't now ?

BUN. Your cousin yonder

Mis. N. Why, the man's mad i

BUN. Cousin, hist, cousin '

Mis. N. What say you ?

BUN. Pooh, I call not you, I call my cousin.—
Come forth with the salt, cousin ! Ha ! how ? no
body ? Why, was not he that came in e'en now
your cousin ?

Mis. N. My cousin ? O my bell-salt, O my great
bell-salt !

Re-enter GOLDSTONE in his own dress.
BUN. The tenor bell-salt. O, here comes master
Goldstone now, cousin ; he may tell us some news

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 297

on him. — Did you not meet a fellow about door
with a great silver salt under his arm ?

GOL. No, sure ; I met none such.

Mis. N. Pardon me, sir, I forgot all this while
to bid you welcome. I shall loathe this room for
ever. Take hence the cloth, you unlucky, maple-
facedf rascal. — Come, you shall dine in my chamber,
sir.

GOL. No better place, lady. [Exeunt.

SCENE VIII.

A Street.
Enter PYAMONT.

PY. No less than forty pound in fair gold at one
lift ! the next shall swoon and swoon again till the
devil fetch him, ere I set hand to him. Heart, no
thing vexes me so much, but that I paid the gold
smiths for the change too not an hour before : had
I let it alone in the chain of silver as it was at first,
it might have given me some notice at his de
parture i 'sfoot, I could fight with a windmill now.
Sure 'twas some unlucky villain : why should he
come and salute me wrongfully too, mistake me at
noonday ? Now I think on't in cold blood, it could

f maple -faced'} Whether this epithet is to be explained
rough-faced, or brown- faced, or broad-faced, seems doubtful:
see Gifford's note on B. Jonson's Works, vol. vi. p. 156.

% goldsmith'] When this drama was written, and indeed
long after, goldsmiths acted as bankers :

" Enter Trainsted with a purse of gold in his hand.
TRAINST. I have been with my goldsmith, and am well
furnished to start hence." Sir E. Howard's Man of New
market, 1678, act i. sc. i.

298 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

not be but an induction to some villanous purpose :
well, I shall meet him

Enter PURSENET.

PUR. This forty pound came fortunately to re
deem my chain of pearl from mortgage : I would
not care how often I swoonedh to have such a good
caudle1 to comfort me ; gold and pearP' are very
restorative.

PY. See, yonder's the rogue I suspect for foul
play ! I'll walk muffled by him, offer some offence
or cause of a quarrel, only to try his temper ; if he
be a coward, he's the likelier to be a rogue, an in
fallible note. [Jostles PURSENET.

PUR. What a pox ail you, sir ? would I had
been aware of you !

PY. Sir, speak you to me ?

PUR. Not I, sir: pray, keep on your way; I
have nothing to say to you.

PY. You're a rascal !

PUR. You may say your pleasure, sir ; but I
hope I go not like a rascal.

PY. Are you fain to fly to your clothes because
you're gallant ? why, there's no rascal like your
gallant rascal, believe that.

PUR. You have took me at such an hour, faith,
you may call me e'en what you please ; nothing
will move me.

PY. No ? I'll make somewhat move you. Draw !

h how often I swooned] See note, p. 291.

1 a good caudle, &c.] Here again (see note, p. 151), Mid-
dleton seems to consider caudle and a cullis as the same thing.
According to ancient receipts, fine gold and orient pearl are
among the ingredients of the latter.

J are~\ Old ed. " is."

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 299

I suspected you were a rogue, and you have purst
it up well with a coward !

PUR. Who, my patron ?

PY. Keep out, you rascal !

PUR. The guest that did me the kindness in
Paul's ? Hold ! as you are a gentleman ; you'll
give me breath, sir ?

[Exit running ; and as he goes out, drops the
chain of pearl.

PY. Are you there with me ? a vengeance stop
you ! You have found breath enough to run away
from me. I will never meet this slave hereafter in a
morning but I will breathe myself upon him ; since
I can have no other satisfaction, he shall save me
that forty pound in fence-school. \_Exit.

Enter GOLDSTONE.

GOL. When things are cleanly carried, sign of

judgment :

I was the welcom'st gallant to her alive
After the salt was stolen ; then a good dinner,
A fine provoking meal, which drew on apace
The pleasure of a day-bed, and I had it ;
This here one ring can witness : when I parted,
Who but sweet master Goldstone ? I left her in that

trance.

What cannot wit, so it be impudent,
Devise and compass ? I'dk fain know that fellow

now

That would suspect me but for what I am ;
He lives not :
'Tis all in the conveyance.1 What! thou look'st not

k Pd~\ Old ed. " I would."

1 conveyance] i. e. sleight of hand, — a delicate term for
stealing.

300 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

Like a beggar : what mak'st thou on the ground ?
I'vem a hand to help thee up : a fair chain of pearl !
[Takes up the chain of pearl which PURSENET

had dropt.

Surely a merchant's wife gives lucky handsel :
They that find pearl may wear't at a cheap rate ;
Marry, my lady dropt it from her arm
For a device to tole me to her bed :
I've seen as great a matter. — Who be these ?
I'll be too crafty for you. —

Enter PRIMERO and FRIPPERY.

O monsieur Primero, signior Frip ; is it you, gal
lants ?

FRI. Sweet master Goldstone ! [They talk apart.

Enter TAILBY and two Constables.

TAI. Every bawd exceeds me in fortune : master
Primero was robbed of a carkanet" upon Monday
last ; laid0 the goldsmiths, and found it. I ha' laid
goldsmith,P jeweller, burnisher, broker, and the devil
and all, I think, yet could never so much as hear
of that chain of pearl: he was a notable thief; he
works close. Peace, who be these ? ha, let me
see. By this light, there it is ! Back, lest they see
thee : a happy minute ! Goldstone ? What an age
do we breathe in ! who that saw him now would
think he were maintained by purses ? so, who
that meets me would think I were maintained by
wenches ? As far as I can see, 'tis all one case,
and holds both in one court ; we are both main
tained by the common roadway ! Keep thou thine

m I've] Old ed. " I have."

n carkanet] i. e. a collar of jewels, a necklace.

0 laid] See note, p. 11.

P goldsmith] Old ed. " goldsmits."

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 301

own heart, thou livest unsuspected, I leese** you
again now.

GOL. But, I pray you, tell me,
Met you no gentlewomen by the way you came ?

FRI. Not any : what should they be ?

GOL. Nay, I do but ask,
Because a gentlewoman's glove was found
Near to the place I met you.

PRI. Faith, we saw none, sir.

TAI. Good officers, upon suspicion of felony.

S. CON. Very good, sir.

F. CON. What call you the thief's name you do
suspect ?

TAI. Master Justinian Goldstone.

F. CON. Remember, master Justice Goldstone ;
a terrible world the whilst, my masters !

TAI. Look you, that's he : upon him, officers !

F. CON. I see him not yet ; which is he, sir ?

TAI. Why, that.

F. CON. He a thief, sir ? who, that gentleman i'
th' satin ?

TAI. E'en he.

F. CON. Farewell, sir ; you're a merry gentle
man.

TAI. As you will answer it, officers ! I'll bear
you out, I'll be your warrant.

F. CON. Nay, andr you say so — what's his name
then?

TAI. Justinian Goldstone.

F. CON. Master Justinian Goldstone, we appre
hend you, sir, upon suspicion of felony.

GOL. Me?

TAI. You, sir.

i leese] i. e. lose — (lose sight of Goldstone, I presume).
r and] i. e. if.

VOL. II. D D

302 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

S. CON. I charge you, in the king's name, gen
tlemen, to assist us.

GOL. Master Tailby !

TAI. The same man, sir.

GOL. Life, what's the news ?

TAI. Ha' you forgot Combe Park ?

GOL. Combe Park ? no, 'tis in Kingston way.

TAI. I believe you'll find it so.

GOL. I not deny it.

F. CON. Bear witness, has confessed.

GOL. What have I confessed? Pair of coxcombs
indubitable !

TAI. I was robb'd finely of this chain of pearl

there,
And forty fair spur-royals.9

GOL. Did I rob you ?

TAI. There where I find my goods I may sus
pect, sir.

FRI. I dreamt this would be his end. [Aside.

GOL. See how I am wrong'd, gentlemen :
As I've* a soul, I found this chain of pearl
Not three yards from this place, just when I met
you.

TAI. Ha, ha !

FRI. Yet the law's such, if he but swear 'tis you,
You're gone.

GOL. Pox on't, that e'er I saw't !

FRI. Can you but swear 'tis he ? do but that,
and you tickle him, i'faith.

TAI. Nay, andu it come once to swearing, let me
alone.

FRI. Say, and hold ; he called my jewels coun
terfeit, and so cheated the poor wench of 'em.

8 spur-royals} See note, p. 260.
* I've] Old ed. « I have."
u and} i. e. if.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 303

F. CON. Come, bring him away, come.
GOL. 'Twill call my' state in question.

Re-enter PURSENET.

PUR. I think what's got by theft doth never

prosper ;

Now lost my chain of pearl. — Come, master Gold-
stone,
Let go ; 'tisv mine, i'faith.

GOL. The chain of pearl ?

PUR. By my troth, it's mine.

GOL. By my troth, much good do't you, sir.

FRI. I'm glad in my soul, sir.w

F. CON. Deliver your weapons.

PUR. How?

F. CON. You're apprehended upon suspicion of
felony.

PUR. Felony ? what's that ?

TAI. Was it you, i'faith, sir, all this while, that
did me that kindness to ease both my pockets at
Combe Park ?

PUR. I, sir ? Pray, gentlemen, draw near ; let's
talk among ourselves. — Stand apart, scoundrel. —
Must every gentleman be upbraided in public that
flies out now and then upon necessity, to be themes
for pedlars and weavers ? This should not be ;
'twas never seen among the Romans, nor read we
of it in the time of Brute : are we more brutish
now ? Did I list to blab, do not I know your
course of life, master Tailby, to be as base as the
basest, maintained by me, by him, by all of us, and
'a second-hand from mistresses ? I've their letters
here to shew.

v Let go, '«*] Old ed. " lets go this."

w I'm glad in my soul, sir] In the old ed. this speech is
followed by a word printed in italics, — " Gnawes," — which I
presume is a stage-direction.

304 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

Why should you be so violent to strip naked
Another's reputation to the world,
Knowing your own so leprous ?
Beside, this chain of pearl and those spur-royalsx
Came to you falsely ; for she broke her faith,
And made her soul a strumpet with her body,
When she sent those ; they were ever justly mine. —
Pray, what moves you, sir ? why should you shake
your head ? you're clear ; sure I should know you,
sir : pray, are not you sometimes a pander, and
oftener a bawd, sir ? have I never sinned in your
banqueting boxes, your bowers and towers ? You
slave, that keeps fornication upon the tops of trees !
the very birds cannot engender in quiet for you :
why, rogue, that goes in good clothes made out of
wenches' cast gowns

Nothing goes so near my heart as that.

PUR. Do you shake your slave's noddle ?

TAI. And here's a rascal, look, a' 's way? too —
saving the presence of master Goldstone — a filthy-
slimy-lousy- nittical broker, pricked up in pawns
from the hat-band to the shoe-string ; a necessary
hook to hang gentlemen's suits out i' th' air, lest
they should grow musty with long lying, which
his pawns seldom are guilty of ; a fellow of several
scents and steams, French, Dutch, Italian, English,
and therefore his lice must needs be mongrels :
why, bill-money -

GOL. I am sorry to hear this among you : you've
all deceived me ; truly I took you for other spirits.
You must pardon me henceforward ; I have a repu
tation to look to ; I must be no more seen in your
companies.

FRI. Nay, nay, nay, nay, master Goldstone, you

x spur-royals] See note, p. 260.

y look, a' 's way} Old ed. " lookt asway."

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 305

must not 'scape so, i'faith ; one word before you
go, sir.

GOL. Pray, despatch then ; I would not for half
my revenues, i'faith, now, that any gallants should
pass by in the meantime, and find me in your com
panies ; nay, as quick as you can, sir.

FRI. You did not take away master Bouser's
cloak t'other morning, pawned it to me, and bor
rowed five pound upon't?

GOL. Ha!

FRI. 'Twas not you neither that finely cheated
my little novice at master Primero's house of a
diamond and sapphire, and swore they were coun
terfeit, both glass, mere glass, as you were a right
gentleman ?

GOL. 'Slife, why were we strangers all this while ?
'Sfoot, I perceive we are all natural brothers ! A
pox on's all, are we found, i'faith ?

FRI. A cheater !

GOL. A thief, a lecher, a bawd, and a broker !

F. CON. What mean they to be so merry ? I'm
afraid they laugh at us, and make fools on's.

GOL. Push,y leave it to me. — How now, who
would you speak withal ?

F. CON. Speak withal ! Have we waited all this
while for a suspected thief?

GOL. How ? You're scarce awake yet, I think :
look well, does any appear like a thief in this
company ? Away, you slaves ! you stand loitering
when you should look to the commonwealth : you
catch knaves apace now, do you not ? they may
walk by your nose, you rascals !

[Exeunt Constables.

ALL. Sweet master Goldstone !

r Push] See note, vol. i. p. 29.

306 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

GOL. You lacked spirit in your company till I
came among you : here be five on's ; let's but glue
together, why now the world shall not come be
tween us.

Pun. If we be true among ourselves.

GOL. Why, true ; we cannot lack to be rich, for
we cannot lack riches, nor can our wenches want,
nor we want wenches.

PRI. Let me alone to furnish you with them.

TAI. And me.

GOL. There's one care past : and as for the knight's

daughter,
Our chiefest business, and least thought upon —

PUR. That's true, i'faith.

TAI. How shall we agree for her ?

GOL. With as much ease

As for the rest. To-morrow brings the night :
Let's all appear in the best shape we may ;
Troth is, we have need on't :
And when amongst us five she makes election,
As one she shall choose —

PUR. True, she cannot [but] choose.

GOL. That one so fortunate amongst us five
Shall bear himself more portly, live regarded,
Keep house, and be a countenance to the rest.

ALL. Admirable !z

GOL. For instance ;

Put case yourself, after some robbery done,
Were pursu'd hardly, why there were your shelter,
You know your sanctuary ; nay, say you were taken,
His letter to the justice will strike't dead :
'Tis policy to receive one for the head.

ALL. Let's hug thee, Goldstone.

GOL. What have I begot ?

* Admirable'] Old ed. " Admiral!."

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 307

PUR. What, sir ?

GOL. I must plot for you all ; it likesa me rarely.

TAI. Prithee, what is't, sir ?

GOL. 'Twould strike Fitsgrave pale,
And make the other suitors appear blanks.

FRI. For our united mysteries.

GOL. What if we five presented our full shapes
In a strange-gallant and conceited masque ?

PUR. In a masque ? your thoughts and mine
were twins.

TAI. So the device were subtle, nothing like it.

FRI. Some poet must assist us.

GOL. Poet?

You'll take the direct line to have us stag'd.b
Are you too well, too safe? Why, what lacks

Bouser ?

An absolute scholar ; easy to be wrought,
No danger in the operation.

PUR. But have you so much interest ?

GOL. What, in Bouser ?
Why, my least word commands him.

TAI. Then no man fitter.

PUR. And there's master Frip too
Can furnish us of masquing suits enow.

FRI. Upon sufficient pawn, I think I can, sir.

PUR. Pawn ? Jew, here, take my chain : pawns

among brothers ?
We shall thrive !c

But we must still expect one rogue in five,
And think us happy too.

a likes'] See note, p. 47.

b stag'd, &c.] Old ed. " sta'gde ? why what lacks Bowser,
are you too well, too safe, an absolute scholler."

c We shall thrive} An imperfect couplet : see notes, p. 7 of
this vol., p. 424 of vol. i.

308 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

Enter FITSGRAVE.

GOL. Last man we spoke on, master Bouser.

PUR. Little master Bouser.d

TAI. Sweet master Bouser —

FRI. Welcome, i'faith.

FIT. Are your fathers dead, gentlemen, you're
so merry ?

GOL. By my troth, a good jest ! Did not I com
mend his wit to you, gentlemen ? Hark, sirrah
Ralph Bouser, cousin Bouser, i'faith, there's a kind
of portion in town, a girl of fifteen hundred, whom
we all powerfully affect, and determine to present
our parts to her in a masque.

FIT. In a masque ?

GOLO Right, sir : now, a little of thy brain for a
device to present us firm, which we shall never be
able to do ourselves, thou knowest that ; and with
a kind of speech wherein thou mayst express what
gallants are, bravely.

FIT. Pooh, how can I express 'em otherwise but

bravely ?
Now for a Mercury, and all were fitted.

PUR. Could not a boy supply it ?

FIT. Why, none better.

PUR. I have a boy shall put down all the Mer
curies i' th' town ; 'a will play a Mercury naturally,
at his fingers' end[s], i'faith.

FIT. Why then we are suited : for torch-bearers
and shield-boys, those are always the writer's pro
perties ;e you're not troubled with them.

d Pur. Little master Bouser, &c.] Old ed. " All. Little
maister Bowser, sweete maister Bowser welcome ifaith."

e properties'] i. e. necessaries for the scene : in strict thea
trical language, however, the term is applied to things, not to
persons.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 309

GOL. Come, my little Bouser, do't finely now, to
the life.

FIT. I warrant you, gentlemen.

FRI. Hist ; give me a little touch above the rest,
andf you can possible, for I mean to present this
chain of pearl to her.

FIT. Now I know that, let me alone to fit you.

[Exeunt.

ACT V. SCENE I.

A Chamber.*
Enter Courtesans and MISTRESS NEWCUT.

FIRST C. Come forth, you wary, private-whis
pering strumpet ! Have we found your close
haunts, your private watch-towers, and your subtle
means ?

Mis. N. How then ?

SEC. C. You can steal secretly hither, you mys
tical quean you, at twilight, twitter-lights !h
You have a privilege from your hat,1 forsooth,

f and] i. e. if.

8 A Chamber] The commencement of the scene would lead
us to suppose that the place of action is Primero's house :
but that Fitsgrave's friends should conceal themselves in a
gallery there, to watch the proceedings of" the gallants," is
surely somewhat absurd.

h twilight, twitter-lights] Are, I believe, synonyms ; and
perhaps one of them ought to be struck out of the text. The
latter is a word of rare occurrence ; but we find it in our
author's More Dissemblers besides Women, " Come not till
twitter-light" act iii. sc. 1 ; and in the old play called Wily
Beguilde, " What mak'st thou heere this twatter light ?" Sig.
E 3, ed. 1623.

1 You have a privilege from your hat, Sec.] An allusion to
some regulation about dress, which I cannot explain : the

310 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

To walk without a man, and no suspicion ;
But we poor gentlewomen that go in tires
Have no such liberty, we cannot do thus :
Custom grants that to you that's shame in us.

Mis. N. Have you done yet ?

SEC. C. You broke the back of one husband
already ; and now th' other's dead with grief at
sea, with your secret expenses, close stealths, cun
ning filches, and continued banquets in corners.
Then, forsooth, you must have your milk-baths to
white you, your rose-leaves to sweeten you, your
bean-flour bags1 to sleek you, and make you soft,
smooth, and delicate, for lascivious entertainment !

Mis. N. So, and you think all this while you
dance like a thief in a mist, you're safe, nobody
can find you ! Pray, were not you a feltmonger's
daughter at first, that run away with a new courtier
for the love of gentlewomen's clothes, and bought
the fashion at a dear rate, with the loss of your
name and credit ? Why, what are all of you but
rustical insides and city flesh, the blood of yeomen,
and the bum of gentlewomen ?

SEC. C. What, shall we suffer a changeable fore
part to out-tongue us ? Take that !

[Attacking her.

Mis. N. Murder, murder !

Enter FITSGRAVE.

FIT. How now ! Why, ladies, a retreat ! come,
you have shewn your spirits sufficiently : you're all
land-captains ; and so they shall find that come in
your quarters ; but have you the law free now to

reader may turn to Strutt's Dress and Habits, &c., vol. ii.
p. 3 16.

1 bean-flour bags] Compare Eugenia's speech in The Old
Law, vol. i. p. 38.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 311

fight and scratch among yourselves, and let your
gallants run away with others ?•*

FIRST C. How !

SEC. C. Good

FIRST C. Sweet master Bouser !

Mis. N. Another ? [Aside.

FIT. Why, then, I perceive you know nothing :
why, they are in the way of marriage ; a knight's
daughter here in town makes her election among
'em this night.

FIRST C. This night ?

FIT. This very night ; and they all present
themselves in a masque before her : know you
not this ?

SEC. C. O traitor master Goldstone !

THIRD C.k Perjured master Tailby !

Mis. N. Without soul ? [Aside.

FIRST C, She will chase him !

FIT. You have more cause to join,
And play the grounds of friendship 'mongst your
selves,

Than rashly run division : I could tell you
A means to pleasure you

FIRST C. Good master Bouser !

FIT. But that you're women, and are hardly
secret

SEC. C. We vow it seriously.

FIT. You should be all there in presence,
See all, hear all, and yet not they perceive you.

THIRD C. So that —

Mis. N. Sweet master Bouser, I

FIT. I can stand you in stead ;
For I frame the device

J others'] Old ed. " us."

k Third C.] Is perhaps the " Novice,"

312 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

ALL. If ever

FIT. Will you do't — hark you — [Whispers.

FIRST C. Content.

SEC. C. And I'll make one.

THIRD C. And I another :
We'll mar the match.

Mis. N. When that good news1 came of my

husband's death,

Goldstone™ promis'd me marriage,
And sware to me

SEC. C. I'll bring his oaths in question.

FIRST C. So will I.n

FIT. Agree among yourselves, for shame I

FIRST C. Are we resolv'd?

SEC. C. In this who would not feign ?

THIRD C. Friends all, for my part.

Mis. N. Here's my0 lip for mine.

THIRD C. Round let it go.

SEC. C. All wrath thus quench'd.

FIRST C. And I conclude it so.

[Exeunt all except FITSGRAVE.

FIT. How all events strike even with my wishes !
Their own invention damns them. —

Enter two Gentlemen, and PYAMONT and BUNGLER.

Now, gentlemen,
Stands your assistance firm ?

FIRST G. Why, 'tis our own case ;
I'm sorry you should doubt.

SEC. G. We'll furnish you.

1 When that good news, &c.] Is given to " 3." in old ed.

m Goldstone, &c.] So the lines are divided in the old ed. :
the measure is lost in the corruption of the text.

n So will 7] Is given to " 3." in old ed. ; but the Third
Court, had " set her affections" on Tailby.

0 Here's my, &c.] Is given to " 4." in old ed.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 313

BUN.P Are these our gallants ?
FIT. Are our gallants these ?

Enter Painter with Shields.

PAI. Here be five shields, sir.

FIT. Finished already ? that's well : I'll see thy
master shortly.

PAI. I'm satisfied. [Exit.

PY. Prithee, let's see, master Fitsgrave.

FIT. I have blazed them.

FIRST G. What's this ?

SEC. G. Fooh,^ you should be a gallant too, for
you're no university scholar.

FIT. Look, this is Pursenet ; the device, a purse
wide open, and the mouth downward : the word,1"
Alienis ecce crumenis !
, FIRST G. What's that?

FIT. One that lives out of other men's pockets.

PY. That's right !

FIT. Here's Goldstone's, three silver dice.

FIRST G. They run high, two cinques and a
quater !

FIT. They're high-men,8 fit for his purpose : the
word, Fratremque patremque.

SEC. G. Nay, he will cheat his own brother ; nay,
his own father, i'faith !

FIT. So much the word imports. — Master Pri-
mero —

BUN.* Pox, what says he now ?

P Bun.'] Old ed. " 3."— but Bungler, as we find, is one of
the party.

i First G. What's this ? Sec. G. Fooh, &c.] One speech,
given to " 1." in old ed.

1 word'] See note, p. 258.

8 high-men] A cant term for false dice loaded so as always
to produce high throws.

* Bun.~\ Old ed. " 3 :" see note in the preceding page.
VOL. II. E E

314 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

FIT. The device, an unvalued" pearl hid in a cave ;
the word, Occultos vendit honores.

FIRST G. What's that ?

FIT. One that sells maidenheads by wholesale.

SEC. G. Excellently proper !

FIT. Master Frip —

SEC. G. That Pythagorical rascal !v in a gentle
man's suit to-day, in a knight's to-morrow.

FIT. The device for him, a cuckoo sitting on a
tree ; the word, En avis ex avibus ! one bird made
of many ; for you know as the sparrow hatches the
cuckoo, so the gentleman feathers the broker.

FIRST G. Let me admire thee, master Fitsgrave !

FIT. They will scorn gentlemen ; and to assist
them the better, Pursenet's boy, that little precious
pickpocket, has a compendious speech in Latin, and,
like a Mercury, presents their dispositions more
liberally.

FIRST G. Never were poor gallants so abused.

FIT. Hang 'em !

They're counterfeits ; no honest spirit will pity 'em.
This is my crown ;w

So good men smile, I dread no rascal's frown.
Away, bestow yourselves secretly o'erhead ;
This is the place appointed for the rehearsal,
To practise their behaviours.

FIRST G. We are vanish'd.
[Exeunt two Gentlemen, PYAMONT, and BUNGLER,
who presently station themselves above.

Enter GOLDSTONE, PURSENET, TAILBY, FRIPPERY,

PRIMERO, and Boy.
GOL. Master Bouser

u unvalued^] i. e. invaluable.
v Pythagorical rascal] Compare p. 85 and note.
w This is my crotvn, &c.] An imperfect couplet : see notes,
p. 7 of this vol., p. 424 of vol. i.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 315

PUR. Well said, i'faith; off with your cloaks,
gallants ; let's fall roundly to our business.

TAI. Is the boy perfect ?

FIT. That's my credit, sir, I warrant you.

FRI. If our little Mercury should be out, we
should scarce be known what we are.

FIT. I have took a course for that, fear it not, sir.
Look you, first, here be your shields.

GOL. Ay, where be our shields ?

PUR. Which is mine ?

TAI. Which is mine, master Bouser ? this ?

FIT. I pray, be containedx a little, gentlemen ;
they'll come all time enough to you, I warrant.

PUR. This Frip is grown so violent !

FIT. Yours to begin withal, sir.

PUR. Well said, master Bouser !

FIT. First the^ device, a fair purse wide open, the
mouth downward ; the word, Alienis ecce crumenis !

PUR. What's that, prithee ?

FIT. Your bounty pours itself forth to all men.

PUR. And so it does, i'faith ; that's all my fault,
bountiful.

FIT. Master Goldstone, here's yours, sir : three
silver dice ; the word, Fratremque patremque.

GOL. And what's that ?

FIT. Fortune of my side.

GOL. Well said, little Bouser, i'faith !

TAI. What say you to me, sir ?

FIT. For the device, a candle in a corner ; the
word, Consumptio victus.

TAI. The meaning of that, sir ?

FIT. My light is yet in darkness till I enjoy her.

x be contained'] i. e. restrain yourselves — be not so im
patient.

r First the, &c.] Given as part of Pursenet's speech in
old ed.

316 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

TAI. Right, sir.z

PRI. Now mine, sir ?

FIT. The device, an unvalued* pearl hid in a cave.

PRI. Aha, sirs !

FIT. The word, Occultos vendit honores.

PRI. Very good, I warrant.

FIT. A black man's a pearl in a fair lady's eye.

PRI. I said 'twas some such thing.

FRI. My turn must needs come now : am I fitted,
master Bouser ?

FIT. Trust to me ; your device here is a cuckoo
sitting on a tree.

FRI. The Welsh leiger ;b good.

FIT. The word, En avis ex avibus !

FRI. Ay, marry, sir.

FIT. Why do you know what 'tis, sir?

FRI. No, by my troth, not yet, sir.

FIT. O ! — / keep one tune, I recant not.

FRI. I'm like the cuckoo in that indeed : where
I love I hold.

FIT. Did I not promise you I would fit you ?

GOL. They're all very well done, i'faith, and very
scholarlike, though I say't before thy face, little
Bouser ; but I would not have thee proud on't
now : come, if this be performed well

PUR. Who, the boy ? he has performed deeper
matters than this.

PY. Ay, a pox on him ! I think was in my pocket
now, andc truth were known. \_Aside.

BUN. I caught him once in mine. [Aside.

FIT. Suppose the shields are presented, then you
begin, boy.

z Right, sir] Given to Fitsgrave in old ed.
* unvalued] See note, p. 314.

b The Welsh leiger} Compare p. 88 and note. Leiger is a
resident or ambassador at a foreign court.
c and} i, e. if.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 317

BOY. I, representing Mercury, am a pickpocket,
and have his part at my fingers' ends : Page I am
to that great and secret thief, magno illo et secreto
latroni

FiT.d There you make your honour, sir.

BOY. At latroni ?

FiT.e You have it, sir.

PuR.f Latroni, that's mine.

FIT. He confesses the thief's his.

PUR. Remember, boy, you point latroni to me.

BOY. To you, master.

FIT. Proceed. &

BoY.h These four are his companions : the one a
notable cheater, that will cozen his own father

FIT. Master Goldstone.

GOL. Let me alone, master Bouser ; I can take
mine own turn.

FIT. Why

GOL. Peace.

BoY.1 The second a notorious lecher, maintained by
harlots, cujus virtus consumptio corporis.i

TAI. That's I, master Bouser.

FIT. There you remember your honour, sir.

BOY. Ille leno pretiosissimus, virgineos ob lucrum
vendens honores.

PuR.k It sounds very well, i'faith.

BOY. Postremus ille, quamvis apparatu splendidus,
is no otherwise but a broker ; these feathers are not
his own) sed avis ex avibus : all which to be nothing
but truth will appear by the event.

FIT. I'faith, here's all now, gentlemen.

d Fit.'] Old ed. «' Bungl" e Fit.'} Old ed. " Par*."

f Par.] Old ed. " Boy."

* Proceed] Is part of the Boy's speech in old ed.

h Boy} Old ed. « Fits." » Boy] Old ed. " Fits."

J corporis] Old ed. " corpus." k Pur.} Qy. " Pri."

318 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

GOL. Short and pithy.

TAI. A good boy, i 'faith, and a pregnant !

PUR. I dare put trust in the boy, sir. — Forget
not, sirrah, at any hand, to point that same latroni
to me.

BOY. I warrant you, master.

GOL. Come, gentlemen, the time beckons us
away.

FIT. Ay, furnish, gentlemen, furnish.

PUR. Hark, one word, master Bouser : what's
the same latroni ? I have a good mind to that word,
i'faith.

FIT. Latroni ? why, shrieve1 of the shire.

PUR. I'faith, and I have shriven some shires in
my days.

[Exeunt GOLDSTONE, PURSENET, TAILBY,
FRIPPERY, PRIMERO, and Boy.

FIT. Now, gentlemen, are you satisfied and
pleas'd ?

FIRST G. Never more amply.

FIT. Amongst us now falls that desired lot,
For we shall blast five rivals with one plot.

[Exit : and exeunt Gentlemen) fyc. above.

SCENE II.

A Hall in KATHERINE'S House.
Enter KATHERINE between two ancient Gentlemen.

KAT. Grave gentlemen, in whose approved bo
soms

My deceas'd father did repose much faith,
You're dearly welcome : pray, sit, command music ;
See nothing want to beautify this night,

1 shrieve'] i. e. sheriff: old ed. " Sheerse."

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 319

That holds my election in her peaceful arms ;
Feasts, music, hymns, those sweet celestial charms.1

FIRST G. May you be blest in this election !

SEC. G. That content may meet perfection !

HYMN.

Sound lute, bandora,m gittern,
Viol, virginals, and cittern ;
Voices spring, and lift aloud
Her name that makes the music proud !
This night perfection
Makes her election.
Follow, follow, follow, follow round,
Look you to that, nay, you to that, nay, you to that :
Anon you will be found, anon you will be found, anon

you will be found.

{Cornets sound : enter the Masque, n thus ordered : a
torch-bearer, a shield-boy, then a masquer, so
throughout ; then the shield-boys fall at one end,
the torch-bearers at the other ; the masquers V tH
middle : the torch-bearers are the Jive gentlemen
[FITSGRAVE, PYAMONT, BUNGLER, and two others"};
the shield-boys the whores [three Courtesans, Novice,
and MISTRESS NEWCUT] in boys' apparel ; the
masquers the jive gallants [PURSENET, GOLD-
STONE, TAILBY, PRIMERO, and FRIPPERY] : they
bow to her ; she rises and shews the like : they
dance, but first deliver the shields up ; she reads.
The speech : their action.
KAT. [reads~\ Alienis ecce crumenis I

[PURSENET bows to her.

1 charms] Old ed. " swarmes."

m bandora] A musical instrument resembling a guitar :
see Sir J. Hawkins' Hist, of Music, vol. iii. p. 345.

n Enter the Masque, &c.] Here, and a little after, I have
given the stage-direction as it stands in the old ed., with some
additions between brackets.

320 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS,

[read*] Fratrem/jue patremfjue.

[GOLDSTONE boms to her.

[reads] Consumptio victus. [TAILBY bows to tier,
[reads] Occultos vendit honoreg.

[PRIM EEC boms to her.
A cuckoo : [reads] En avis ex avibus /

[FRIPPERY bores to her.
Are you all as the speech and shields display

you?
GOL. We shall prove no.

[They going to dance, each unfiasps his we",
from his side, awl give* it to //" tor r;k- 1 carers.
KATHERUTE teem* distrustful, hut then FITS-
CRAVE whispers to tier awl fall.*, hai-l-. /// th*
end ofnkich, alt nuiking an liwiwr, FRIPPERY
presents her with that chain of pearl.
KAT. The very chain of pearl wan filch'd from

!!.<: '

FIT, Hold ! stop tlie boy there !

y seized: PURSKUET stamps.
KAT. Will none lay hands on him ?

[FRIPPERY seized.
GOL. How now ?

FRL Alas, I'm hut a broker ! *t*ra« pawned to
me in my shop,

[FITS<JRAVE, PYAMOVT, am/ ///c o/Acr* discover

themselves.

TAI. Ha, FiUgrave !
PUR. Pyamont, and the reft !
Got. Where's Bottser ?
FIT. Here,

GOL We are all betrayed !
FIT. Betrayed? you're new forth to betrayed,
you have not so modi worth ; nay, struggle not
with die net, yon are caught for this world.

YOU* FITS 4AKUU1TS* $31

FiasrC, Would w* were out !

FIT* Twas I firanVd your deiriee, do you s$e f

twasl:

HM whofe assembly has took notice of it.
That ywi are a gallant cheater,
So orach the pvmHng of My dkMtk

You a base tfe*f> think of Cowoe Ptok

That wu>« » hit^d MfcoAstet [l» TAIUT] ;

her fetter*
In whkh we «m certified that yoota* % haiwd.

Fit Promo*

Sec. G, So has the boy,

TAI* That hoy wiU he handed; he stole the
chain at first,, and has thus long uointaiaed his
Master's sattanuv.

FIT, All whkA fre here present like

Waiting that doom which Aeir pres^Mption
How easily way

With tmir-appearia^ shadows be
IVar sir, you hare the wt\rk so
That took from

FIT, Since 'tis your pleasure to reler to me
The doom of theses I hare ptovijfcd so*
Tl*y shall not altogether lose their cost

Xv. I h.iw

brought wives for *em, n

lT*<*»*^^*»^<l*m**«*. I
art^ Ae strumpets ! out, owl!

, HaYiMr «ss«ni%d» out of their frMMiJkifii»
TU shape of

OH *i

322 YOUR FIVE GALLANTS.

FRI. To heap full confusion !

FIRST C. Rather confine us to strict chastity,
A mere impossible task, than to wed these,
Whom we [do] loathe worse than the foul'st disease.

GOL. O grant 'em their requests !

FIT. The doom is past : so, since your aim was

marriage,

Either embrace it in these courtesans,
Or have your base acts and felonious lives
Proclaim'd to the indignation of the law,
Which will provide a public punishment.
As for the boy, and that infectious bawd,
We put forth those to whipping.

PRI. Whipping ? you find not that in the statute
to whip satin.

FIT. Away with him ! [PRIMERO and Boy led off.

GOL. Since all our shifts are discovered, as far
as I can see, 'tis our best course to marry 'em ;
we'll make them get our livings.

PUR. He says true.

Mis. N. You see how we are threatened : by my
troth, wenches, be ruled by me ; let's marry 'em,
andr it be but to plague 'em ; for when we have
husbands we are under covert-baron/ and may lie
with whom we list : I have tried that in my t'other
husbands' days.

ALL THE C. A match.

FIT. I'll be no more deferr'd : come, when do
you join ?

GOL. These forc'd marriages do never come to
good.

FIT. How can they, when the[y] come to such as
you?

PUR. The[y] often prove the ruin of great houses.

r and] i. e. if.

8 under covert-baron'] See note, vol. i. p. 370.

YOUR FIVE GALLANTS. 323

FIT.* Nor, virgin, do I in this seek to entice
All glory to myself; these gentlemen,
Whomu I am bound to love for kind assistance,
Hadx great affinity in the plot with me.

KAT. To them I give my thanks ; myself to thee,
Thrice-worthy Fitsgrave !

FIT. I have all my wishes.

KAT. And I presume there's none but those can

frown,
Whose envies, like the rushes, we tread down.

\_Exeunt omnes.

4 Fit.'] This prefix has dropt out in old ed.
u Whom] Old ed. " To whom,"

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

VOL. II. F F

A Mad World, my Masters. As it hath bin lately in Action
by the Children of Paules. Composed by T. M. London, Printed
by H. B. for Walter Bvrre, and are to be sold in Paules Church
yard, at the signe of the Crane. 1608. 4to. A second ed.
appeared 1640. 4to.

This drama has been reprinted (most carelessly) in the
several editions of Dodsley's Coll. of Old Plays, vol. v.

A Mad World, my Masters, was licensed by the deputy of
Sir George Bucke, 4th Oct. 1608 : see Chalmers's Suppl. ApoL,
p. 199.

The City Heiress, or Sir Timothy Treatall, 1682, by Mrs. Behn,
and The Country Lasses, or the Custom of the Manor, 1715, by
Charles Johnson, are partly taken from the present play.

THE PRINTER AND STATIONER

TO THE

GENTLE READER.51

COURTEOUS reader, let not the title or name of this
comedy be any forestalling or weakening of the
worthy author's judgment, whose known abilities
w'ill survive to all posterities, though he be long
since dead. I hope the reading thereof shall not
prove distasteful unto any in particular, nor hurt
ful unto any in general ; but I rather trust that
the language and the plot which you shall find in
each scene shall rather be commended and ap
plauded than any way derided or scorned. In the
action, which is the life of a comedy, and the glory
of the author, it hath been sufficiently expressed to
the liking of the spectators and commendations of
the actors ; who have set it forth in such lively
colours, and to the meaning of the gentleman that
true penned it, that I dare say few can excel them,
though some may equal them. In the reading of
one act you guess the consequence ; for here is no
bombasted or fustian stuff, but every line weighed
as with balance, and every sentence placed with
judgment and deliberation. All that you can find

a Prefixed to the ed. of 1640.

329

in the perusal I will give you notice of beforehand,
to prevent a censure that may arise in thy reading
of this comedy, as also for the excuse of the author ;
and that is this : here and there you shall find some
lines that do answer in metre ; which I hope will
not prove so disdainful, whereby the book may be
so much slighted as not to be read, or the author's
judgment undervalued as of no worth. Consider,
gentle reader, it is full twenty yearsb since it was
written, at which time metre was most in use, and
shewed well upon the conclusion of every act and
scene. My prevalent hope desires thy charitable
censure, and thereby draws me to be

Thy immutable friend,
J.

b twenty years} A mistake : see p. 327.
c J. S.~\ For whom the ed. of 1640 is printe

DRAMATIS PERSONS

SIR BOUNTEOUS PROGRESS, an old rich knight.
DICK FOLLYWIT, his grandson.
HAREBRAIN.
PENITENT BROTHEL.

INESSE, ) J

POSSIBILITY, j two elder brothers'

GUMWATER, Sir Bounteous' s chief man.

JASPER, Penitent's man.

RALPH, Harebrain's man.

SEMUS, one of Sir Bounteous1 s servants.

Constable.

Watchmen.

Two Knights.

Companions of Follywit, Servants, 8$c.

MISTRESS HAREBRAIN.
FRANK GULLMAN, a courtesan.
Her Mother.
A Succubus.

Scene, partly LONDON, partly the COUNTRY.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

ACT I. SCENE I.

A Street.
Enter FOLLY WIT, MAW WORM, HOBOY, and others.

MAW. CAPTAIN, regent, principal !

HOB. What shall I call thee ? the noble spark of
bounty ! the life-blood of society !

FOL. Call me your forecast, you whoresons ! when
you come drunk out of a tavern, 'tis I must cast
your plots into form still ; 'tis I must manage the
prank, or I'll not give a louse for the proceeding :
I must let fly my civil fortunes, turn wild-brain,
lay my wits upo' th' tenters, you rascals, to main
tain a company of villains, whom I love in my very
soul and conscience !

MAW. Aha, our little forecast !

FOL. Hang you, you have bewitched me among
you ! I was as well given a till I fell to be wicked !
my grandsire had hope of me : I went all in black ;
swore but a' Sundays ; never came home drunk but

a I was as well given, &c.] " Imitated from Shakespeare's
First Part of K. Henry IV. act iii. sc. 3, where Falstaff says,
' I was as virtuously given as a gentleman need to be ; virtuous
enough : swore little ; diced not above seven times a-week ;
went to a bawdy-house not above once in a quarter — of an
hour ; paid money that t borrowed, three or four times ;
lived well, and in good compass: and now I live out of all
order, out of all compass.' " REED.

332 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

upon fasting-nights to cleanse my stomach. 'Slid,
now I'm quite altered ! blown into light colours ;
let out oaths by th' minute ; sit up late till it be
early ; drink drunk till I am sober ; sink down
dead in a tavern, and rise in a tobacco-shop : here's
a transformation ! I was wont yet to pity the simple,
and leave 'em some money : 'slid, now I gull 'em
without conscience ! I go without order, swear with
out number, gull without mercy, and drink without
measure.

MAW. I deny the last ; for if you drink ne'er so
much, you drink within measure.

FOL. How prove you that, sir ?

MAW. Because the drawers never fill their pots.

FOL. Mass, that was well found out ! all drunk
ards may lawfully say, they drink within measure
by that trick. And, now I'm put i' th' mind of a
trick, can you keep your countenance, villains ?
Yet I am a fool to ask that ; for how can they keep
their countenance that have lost their credits ?

HOB. I warrant you for blushing, captain.

FOL. I easily believe that, ancient, for thou lost
thy colours once. Nay, faith, as for blushing, I
think there's grace little enough amongst you all ;
'tis Lent in your cheeks, the flag's down.b Well,
your blushing face I suspect not, nor indeed greatly
your laughing face, unless you had more money in
your purses. Then thus compendiously now. You
all know the possibilities of my hereafter fortunes,
and the humour of my frolic grandsire, Sir Boun
teous Progress, whose death makes all possible to
me : I shall have all, when he has nothing ; but

b the flag's down} " On the tops of our ancient theatres
were flags, which we may suppose to have been taken down
during the season of Lent, when plays were not suffered to
be represented." STEEVENS.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 333

now he has all, I shall have nothing. I think one
mind runs through a million of 'em ; they love to
keep us sober all the while they're alive, that when
they're dead we may drink to their healths ; they
cannot abide to see us merry all the while they're
above ground, and that makes so many laugh at
their fathers' funerals. I know my grandsire has
his will in a box, and has bequeathed all to me,
when he can carry nothing away ; but stood I in
need of poor ten pounds now, by his will I should
hang myself ere I should get it: there's no such
word in his will, I warrant you, nor no such thought
in his mind.

MAW. You may build upon that, captain.

FOL. Then since he has no will to do me good
as long as he lives, by mine own will I'll do myself
good before he dies ; and now I arrive at the pur
pose. You are not ignorant, I'm sure, you true
and necessary implements of mischief, first, that
my grandsire, Sir Bounteous Progress, is a knight
of thousands, and therefore no knight since one
thousand six hundred ;c next, that he keeps a house
like his name, bounteous, open for all comers ;
thirdly and lastly, that he stands much upon the
glory of his complement,d variety of entertainment,
together with the largeness of his kitchen, longi
tude of his buttery, and fecundity of his larder ;
and thinks himself never happier than when some
stiff lord or great countess alights to make light
his dishes. These being well mixed together, may

c no knight since one thousand six hundred'] " Alluding to
the number of necessitous people who were created knights
by king James after his accession." REED.

d the glory of his complement^ " i. e. the number of his
servants. We still say of a ship full manned, that she has her
full complement." STEEVENS.

334 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

give my project better encouragement, and make
my purpose spring forth more fortunate : to be
short, and cut off a great deal of dirty way, I'll
down to my grandsire like a lord.

MAW. How, captain ?

FOL. A French ruff, a thin beard, and a strong
perfume will do't. I can hire blue coatsd for you
all by Westminster clock, and that colour will be
soonest believed.

MAW. But prithee, captain

FOL. Push,6 I reach past your fathoms :f you de
sire crowns ?

MAW. From the crown of our head to the sole
of our foot, bully.

FOL. Why carry yourselves but probably, and
carry away enough with yourselves.

Enter PENITENT BROTHEL.

HOB. Why, there spoke a Roman captain! —
Master Penitent Brothel !

P. BRO. Sweet master Folly-wit ! \_Exeunt FOLLY-
WIT, MAWWORM, HOBOY, &c.] Here's a mad-brain
a' th' first,s whose pranks scorn to have prece
dents, to be second to any, or walk beneath any
madcap's inventions ; has played more tricks than
the cards can allow a man, and of the last stamp
too, hating imitation ; a fellow, whose only glory
is to be prime of the company ; to be sure of which,
he maintains all the rest : he's the carrion, and they
the kites that gorge upon him.
But why in others do I check wild passions,
And retain deadly follies in myself?

d blue coats] See note, p. 26.

e Push] See note, vol. i. p. 29.

f fathoms] See note, vol. i. p. 415.

* first] Dodsley and his editors read "first rate."

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 335

I tax his youth of common receiv'd riot,
Time's comic flashes, and the fruits of blood ;
And in myself soothe up adulterous motions,
And such an appetite that I know damns me,
Yet willingly embrace it — love to Harebrain's wife,
Over whose hours and pleasures her sick husband,
With a fantastic but deserv'd suspect,
Bestows his serious time in watch and ward ;
And therefore I'm constrain'd to use the means
Of one that knows no mean, a courtesan,
One poison for another, whom her husband,
Without suspicion, innocently admits
Into her company, who with tried art
Corrupts and loosens her most constant powers,
Making his jealousy more than half a wittol,8
Before his face plotting his own abuse,
To which himself gives aim,h
Whilst the broad arrow with the forked head
Misses his brow but narrowly. See, here she comes,
The close courtesan, whose mother is her bawd.

Enter Courtesan.

COUR. Master Penitent Brothel ! —

P. BRO. My little pretty lady Gullman, the news,
the comfort?

COUR. You're the fortunate man, sir, knight a'
th' holland shirt;1 there wants but opportunity,
and she's wax of your own fashioning. She had

« wittof] i. e. tame cuckold.

h to which himself gives aim] i. e. which himself directs :
see Gifford's note onMassinger's Works, vol. ii. p. 28, ed. 1813,
where this passage is cited, and where the difference between
the expressions cry aim and give aim, both taken from archery,
is accurately shewn : " he who gave aim was stationed near
the butts, and pointed out, after every discharge, how wide
or how short the arrow fell of the mark."

1 shirt] Old eds. " skirt."

336 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

wrought herself into the form of your love before
my art set finger to her.

P. BRO. Did our affections meet ? our thoughts
keep time ?

COUR. So it should seem by the music : the only
jar is in the grumbling bass-viol her husband.

P. BRO. O, his waking suspicion !

COUR. Sigh not, master Penitent ; trust the ma
naging of the business with me, 'tis for my credit
now to see't well finished : if I do you no good, sir,
you shall give me no money, sir.

P. BRO. I am arrived at the court of conscience ;
a courtesan ! O admirable times ! honesty is re
moved to the common place.-* \_Aside.~] Farewell,
lady. [Exit.

Enter Mother.

MOT. How now, daughter ?

COUR. What news, mother?

MOT. A token from thy keeper.

COUR. O, from Sir Bounteous Progress : he's my
keeper indeed ; but there's many a piece of venison
stolen that my keeper wots not on. There's no
park kept so warily but loses flesh one time or
other ; and no woman kept so privately but may
watch advantage to make the best of her pleasure ;
and in common reason one keeper cannot be enough
for so proud a park as a woman.

MOT. Hold thee there, girl.

COUR. Fear not me, mother.

MOT. Every part of the world shoots up daily
into more subtlety ; the very spider weaves her
cauls with more art and cunning to entrap the fly.
The shallow ploughman can distinguish now
'Twixt simple truth and a dissembling brow ;

J common place~\ A pun, I presume, — common-pleas.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 337

Your base mechanic fellow can spy out

A weakness in a lord, and learns to flout.

How does't behove us then that live by slight,J

To have our wits wound up to their stretch'd height!

Fifteen times

Thou knowest I have sold thy maidenhead

To make up a dowry for thy marriage, and yet

There's maidenhead enough for old sir Bounteous

still :

He'll be all his lifetime about it yet,
And be as far to seek when he has done.
The sums that I have told upon thy pillow !
I shall once see those golden days again :
Though fifteen, all thy maidenheads are not gone.
Th' Italian is not serv'd yet, nor the French :
The British men come for a dozen at once,
They engross all the market : tut, my girl,
'Tis nothing but a politic conveyance,
A sincere carriage, a religious eyebrow,
That throwk their charms over the worldling's senses ;
And when thou spiest a fool that truly pities
The false springs of thine eyes,
And honourably doats upon thy love,
If he be rich, set him by for a husband.
Be wisely temper'd, and learn this, my wench,
Who gets th' opinion1 for a virtuous name
May sin at pleasure, and ne'er think of shame.

COUR. Mother, I am too deep a scholar grown
To learn my first rules now.

MOT. 'Twill be thy own ;
I say no more : peace, hark ! remove thyself.

[Exit Courtesan.
O, the two elder brothers !

J slight] See note, vol. i. p. 441.
k throw'] Old eds. " throwes."
1 opinion} " i. e. reputation." REED.
VOL. II. G G

338 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

Enter INESSE and POSSIBILITY.

Pos. A fair hour, sweet lady !

MOT. Good morrow, gentlemen, master Inesse
and master Possibility.

IN. Where's the little sweet lady your daughter ?

MOT. Even at her book, sir.

Pos. So religious ?

MOT. 'Tis no new motion, sir ; sh'as took it from
an infant.

Pos. May we deserve a sight of her, lady ?

MOT. Upon that condition you will promise me,
gentlemen, to avoid all profane talk, wanton com
pliments, undecent phrases, and lascivious courtings
(which I know my daughter will sooner die than
endure), I am contented your suits shall be granted.

Pos. Not a bawdy syllable, I protest.

IN. Syllable was [well] placed there ; for indeed
your one syllables are your bawdiest words : prick
that down. \_Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Before HAREBRAIN'S House.
Enter HAREBRAIN.

HAR. She may make night-work on't ; 'twas well

recover'd ;m

He-cats and courtesans stroll most i' th' night:
Her friend may be receiv'd and convey'd forth

nightly ;
I'll be at charge

For watch and ward, for watch and ward, i'faith ;
And here they come.

m recover'1 d~\ Qy. " discover'd :" compare the third line of
Harebrain's next speech.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 339

Enter Watchmen.

FIRST W. Give your worship good e\en.

HAR. Welcome, my friends ; I must deserve your

diligence

In an employment serious. The troth is,
There's" a cunning plot laid, but happily discover'd,
To rob my house ; the night uncertain when,
But fix'd within the circle of this month ;
Nor does this villany consist in numbers,
Or many partners ; only some one
Shall, in the form of my familiar friend,
Be receiv'd privately into my house
By some perfidious servant of mine own,
Address'd fit for the practice.

FIRST W. O abominable !

HAR. If you be faithful watchmen, shew your

goodness,
And with these angels0 shore up your eyelids :

[Giving money.

Let me not be purloin'd — purloin'd indeed !
The merry Greeks conceive me — there's? a gem
I would not lose,

Kept by th' Italian under lock and key :
We Englishmen are careless creatures : well,
I have said enough.

SEC. W. And we will do enough, sir.

HAR. Why, well said ; watch me a good turn now ;
so, so, so. [Exeunt Watchmen*

Rise villany with the lark, why, 'tis prevented ;
Or steal't by with the leather-winged bat,**
The evening cannot save it — peace —

» There's'] Old ed. " There is."

0 angels} See note, vol. i. p. 250.
P There's] Old ed. " there is."

1 the leather - winged bat\ From Spenser's Faerie Queene,
b. ii. c. xii. st. 36.

" The lether- winged batt, dayes' enimy."

340 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

Enter Courtesan.

O, lady Gullman, my wife's only company, welcome !
and how does the virtuous matron, that good old
gentlewoman, thy mother ? 1 persuade myself, if
modesty be in the world, she has part on't ; a woman
of an excellent carriage all her lifetime, in court,
city, and country.

COUR. Sh'as always carried it well in those places,
sir; — witness three bastards a-piece. [Aside, ,] —
How does your sweet bed-fellow, sir ? you see
I'm her boldest visitant.

HAR. And welcome, sweet virgin ; the only com
panion my soul wishes for her. I left her within at
her lute ; prithee, give her good counsel.

COUR. Alas, she needs none, sir !

HAR. Yet, yet, yet, a little of thy instructions
will not come amiss to her.

COUR. I'll bestow my labour, sir.

HAR. Do, labour her, prithee. I have conveyed
away all her wanton pamphlets ; as Hero and Leander,
Venus and Adonis ; r O, two luscious marrow-bone
pies for a young married wife ! Here, here, prithee,
take the Resolution* and read to her a little.

[Gives book.

COUR. Sh'as set up her resolution already, sir.

HAR. True, true, and this will confirm it the
more : there's a chapter of hell ; 'tis good to read
this cold weather : terrify her, terrify her. Go,

r Hero and Leander, Venus and Adonis'] The two well-known
poems of Marlowe and Shakespeare.

s the Resolution] A once-celebrated (and excellent) work
by Parsons the Jesuit, of which there are several editions.
The title of the ed. now before me is, A Boole of Christian ex
ercise apperteining to Resolution, that is, shewing how that wee
shoulde resolue our selues to become Christians indeed. By
R. P. &c. 1585. 12mo. Second Part, 1591. 12mo. The 9th
chapter of Part I. Book 1. of, the former portion treats of
hell-punishments.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 341

read to her the horrible punishments for itching
wantonness, the pains allotted for adultery ; tell her
her thoughts, her very dreams are answerable, say
so ; rip up the life of a courtesan, and shew how
loathsome 'tis.

COUR. The gentleman would persuade me in time
to disgrace myself, and speak ill of mine own func
tion. [Aside and exit.

HAR. This is the course I take ; I'll teach the

married man

A new-selected strain. I admit none
But this pure virgin to her company :
Pooh, that's enough ; I'll keep her to her stint,
I'll put her to her pension ;
She gets but her allowance, that's [a] bare one :
Few women but have that beside their own :
Ha, ha, ha! nay, I will* put her hard to't.

Enter MISTRESS HAREBRAIN and Courtesan.

Mis. H. Fain would I meet the gentleman.

COUR. Push,11 fain would you meet him ! why,
you do not take the course.

HAR. How earnestly she labours her,
Like a good wholesome sister of the Family !v
She will prevail, I hope. [Aside.

COUR. Is that the means?

Mis. H. What is the means ?
I would as gladly, to enjoy his sight,
Embrace it as the —

COUR. Shall I have hearing ? listen.

HAR. She's round with her, i'faith.w [Aside.

1 I will] Old eds. " He." u Push] See note, vol. i. p. 29.
v Family] i. e. the Family of Love : see p. 103.
w She's round with her, i'faith] " i. e. she speaks plainly, in
earnest to her." STEEVENS.

342 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

COUR. When husbands in their rank'st suspicions

dwell,

Then 'tis our best art to dissemble well :
Put but these notes in use that I'll direct you,
He'll curse himself that e'er he did suspect you.
Perhaps he will solicit you, as in trial,
To visit such and such ; still give denial :
Let no persuasions sway you ; they'rew but fetches
Set to betray you, jealousies, slights,x and reaches.
Seem in his sight t' endure the sight of no man ;
Put by all kisses, till you kiss in common :
Neglect all entertain ; if he bring in
Strangers, keep you your chamber, be not seen.
If he chance steal upon you, let him find
Some book lie open 'gainst an unchaste mind,
And cotedy Scriptures ; though for your own pleasure
You read some stirring pamphlet, and convey it
Under your skirt, the fittest place to lay it.
This is the course, my wench, t' enjoy thy wishes ;
Here you perform best when you most neglect :
The way to daunt is to outvie suspect.
Manage these principles but with art and life,
Welcome all nations, thou'rt an honest wife.

HAR. She puts it home, i'faith, even to the quick :
From her elaborate action I reach that.
I must requite this maid ; faith, I'm forgetful.

[Aside.

Mis. H. Here, lady,
Convey my heart unto him in this jewel.
Against you see me next, you shall perceive
I've2 profited ; in the mean season tell him
I am a prisoner yet a' th' Master's side,a

w they're] Old ed. " they are."

x slights] See note, vol. i. p. 441.

y coted~] i. e. quoted. z I've] Old ed. " I have."

a th' Master's side'] See note, vol. i. p. 392.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 343

My husband's jealousy,
That masters him, as he doth master me ;
And as a keeper that locks prisoners up
Is himself prison'd under his own key,
Even so my husband, in restraining me,
With the same ward bars his own liberty.

COUR. I'll tell him how you wish it, and I'll wear
My wits to the third pilea but all shall clear.

Mis. H. I owe you more than thanks, but that I

hope
My husband will requite you.

COUR. Think you so, lady ? he has small reason
for't.

HAR. What, done so soon? away, to't again,
to't again, good wench, to't again ; leave her not so :
where left you ? come.

COUR. Faith, I am weary, sir.
I cannot draw her from her strict opinion
With all the arguments that sense can frame.

HAR. No? let me come. — Fie, wife, you must
consent. — What opinion is't? let's hear.

COUR. Fondly b and wilfully she retains that

thought,
That every sin is damn'd.

HAR. O, fie, fie, wife ! pea, pea, pea, pea, how
have you lost your time ! for shame, be converted.
There's a diabolical opinion indeed ! then you may
think that usury were damned ; you're a fine mer
chant, i'faith ! or bribery ; you know the law well !
or sloth ; would some of the clergy heard you,
i'faith ! or pride ; you come at court ! or gluttony ;
you're not worthy to dine at an alderman's table !

a to the third pile] An allusion to the finest kind of velvet,
called three-pile. " It seems to have been thought," says
Nares, quoting the present passage, " that there was a three
fold accumulation of the outer substance, or pile." Gloss,

b Fondly'] i. e. foolishly.

344 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

Your only deadly sin's adultery,
That villanous ringworm, woman's worst requital;
Tis only lechery that's damn'd to th' pit-hole :
Ah, that's an arch offence, believe it, squal !
All sins are venial but venereal.

COUR. I've said enough to her.

HAR. And she will be rul'd by you.

COUR. Faugh !

HAR. I'll pawn my credit on't. Come hither,

lady,

I will not altogether rest ingrateful ;
Here, wear this ruby for thy pains and counsel.

COUR. It is not so much worth, sir ; J am a very
ill counsellor, truly.

HAR. Go to, I say.

COUR. You're to blame, i'faith, sir ; I shall ne'er
deserve it.

HAR. Thou hast done't already : farewell, sweet
virgin ; prithee, let's see thee oftener.

COUR. Such gifts will soon entreat me.

[Aside> and exit.

HAR. Wife, as thou lov'st the quiet of my breast,
Embrace her counsel, yield to her advices :
Thou wilt find comfort in 'em in the end ;
Thou'lt feel an alteration : prithee, think on't :
Mine eyes can scarce refrain.

Mis. H. Keep in your dew, sir,
Lest when you would, you want it.

HAR. I've pawn'd my credit on't : ah, didst thou

know
The sweet fruit once, thou'dst never let it go !

Mis. H. Tis that I strive to get.

HAR. And still do so. [Exeunt.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 345

ACT II. SCENE I.

A Hall in SIR BOUNTEOUS PROGRESS'S Country House.
Enter SIR BOUNTEOUS PROGRESS and two Knights.

FIRST K. You have been too much like your

name, sir Bounteous.

SIR B. 0, not so, good knights, not so ; you
know my humour : most welcome, good sir Andrew
Pollcut;0 sir Aquitain Colewort, most welcome.
BOTH. Thanks, good sir Bounteous.

[Exeunt at one door.

At the other door, enter in haste one of FOLLYWIT'S
companions disguised as a Footman.

FOOT. O, cry your worship heartily mercy, sir !

SIR B. How now, linen stockings and threescore
mile a-day ? whose footman art thou ?

FOOT. Pray, can your worship tell me — ho, ho,
ho ! — if my lord be come in yet.

SIR B. Thy lord ! what lord ?

FOOT. My lord Owemuch, sir.

SIR B. My lord Owemuch? I have heard much
speech of that lord ; has great acquaintance i' th'
city ; that lord has been much followed.

FOOT. And is still, sir ; he wants no company
when he's in London : he's free of the mercers, and
there's none of 'em all dare cross him.

SIR B. Andd they did, he'd turn over a new leaf
with 'em ; he would make 'em all weary on't i' th'
end. Much fine rumour have I heard of that lord,
yet had I never the fortune to set eye upon him :
art sure he will alight here, footman? I am afraid
thou'rt mistook.

c Pollcut] So ed. 1640 : ed. 1608, " Pelcut."
d and} i. e. if.

316 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

FOOT. Thinks your worship so, sir? by your
leave, sir. [Going.

SIR B. Pooh, passion of me, footman ! why,
pumps, I say, come back !

FOOT. Does your worship call ?

SIR B. Come hither, I say. I am but afraid on't ;
would it might happen so well ! How dost know ?
did he name the house with the great turret a' th'
top?

FOOT. No, faith, did he not, sir. [Going.

SIR B. Come hither, I say. Did he speak of a
cloth-a'-gold chamber ?

FOOT. Not one word, by my troth, sir. \_Going.

SIR B. Come again, you lousy seven-mile-an-
hour !

FOOT. I beseech your worship, detain me not.

SIR B. Was there no talk of a fair pair of
organs,6 a great gilt candlestick, and a pair of
silver snuffers ?

FOOT. 'Twere sin to belie my lord ; I heard no
such words, sir. [Going.

SIR B. A pox confine thee ! come again, pooh !

FOOT. Your worship will undo me, sir.

SIR B. Was there no speech of a long dining-
room, a huge kitchen, large meat, and a broad
dresser-board ?

FOOT. I have a greater maw to that indeed, an't
please your worship.

SIR B. Whom did he name ?

FOOT. Why, one sir Bounteous Progress.

SIR B. Ah, a, a ! I am that sir Bounteous, you
progressive round-about rascal.

FOOT. Pooh ! [Laughs.*

SIR B. I knew I should have him i' th' end :

e pair of organs'] i.e. the old expression for an organ.
f Pooh ! Laughs] Old eds. " Laughs, puh."

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 347

there's not a lord will miss me, I thank their good
honours ; 'tis a fortune laid upon me ; they can
scent out their best entertainment. I have a kind of
complimental gift given me above ordinary country
knights ; and how soon 'tis smelt out ! I warrant
ye, there's not one knight i' th' shire able to enter
tain a lord i' th' cue, or a lady i' th' nick, like me ;

— like me! there's a kind of grace belongs to't,
a kind of art which naturally slips from me ; I
know not on't, I promise you, 'tis gone before I'm
aware on't — cuds me, I forget myself — where

Enter Servants.

FIRST S. Does your worship call ?
SIR B. Run, sirrah! call in my chief gentleman
i' th' chain of gold ;% expedite. [Exit First Servant."]

— And how does my good lord ? I never saw him
before in my life. — A cup of bastard h for this
footman !

FOOT. My lord has travelled this five year, sir.

SIR B. Travelled this five year ? how many
children has he? — Some bastard, I say!

FOOT. No bastard, an't please your worship.

SIR B. A cup of sack to strengthen his wit! —
[Exit Second Servant, and returns with the nine.
The footman's a fool.

Enter GUMWATER.

O, come hither, master Gumwater, come hither :
send presently to master Pheasant for one of his
hens ; there's partridge i' th' house ?

GUM. And wild-duck, an't please your worship.

s call in my chief gentleman i' th' chain of gold] " Stewards
of noblemen and gentlemen of property used formerly to
wear a gold chain." REED.

h bastard] i. e. a sweet Spanish wine : there were two sorts,
white and brown.

348 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

SIR B. And woodcock, an't please thy worship.

GUM. And woodcock, an't please your worship.
— I had thought to have spoke before you.

SIR B. Remember the pheasant, down with some
plover, clap down six woodcocks ; my lord's1 coming:
now, sir.

GUM. An't please your worship, there's a lord
and his followers newly alighted.

SIR B. Despatch, I say, despatch : why, where's
my music ? he's come indeed. \_Exit GUMWATER.

Enter FOLLYWIT dressed as a lord, with MAWWORM,
HOBOY, and others, in blue coats j

FOL. Footman !

FOOT. My lord ?

FOL. Run swiftly with my commendations to sir
Jasper Topaz : we'll ride and visit him i' th' morn
ing, say.

FOOT. Your lordship's charge shall be effected.

[Exit.

FOL. That courtly, comely form should present

to me
Sir Bounteous Progress.

SIR B. You've found me out, my lord ; I cannot

hide myself:
Your honour is most spaciously welcome.

FOL. In this forgive me, sir,
That being a stranger to your house k and you,
I make my way so bold ; and presume
Rather upon your kindness than your knowledge ;
Only your bounteous disposition
Fame hath divulg'd, and is to me well known.

SIR B. Nay, and your lordship know my dispo-

1 lord's'] Old eds. " loue's."
J blue coats] See note, p. 26.
k house~\ Old eds. " houses."

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 349

sition, you know me better than they that know
my person ; your honour is so much the welcomer
for that.

FOL. Thanks, good sir Bounteous.

SIR B. Pray, pardon me ; it has been often my
ambition, my lord, both in respect of your honour
able presence, and the prodigal fame that keeps
even stroke with your unbounded worthiness,
To have wish'd your lordship where your lordship is,
A noble guest in this unworthy seat :
Your lordship ne'er heard my organs ?

FOL. Heard of 'em, sir Bounteous, but never
heard 'em.

SIR B. They're but double-gilt, my lord ; some
hundred and fifty pound will fit your lordship with
such another pair.1

FOL. Indeed, sir Bounteous !

SIR B. O, my lord, I have a present suit to you !

FOL. To me, sir Bounteous ? and you could ne'er
speak at fitter time, for I'm here present to grant
you.

SIR B. Your lordship has been a traveller ?

FOL. Some five year, sir.

SIR B. I have a grandchild, my lord ; I love him ;
and when I die I'll do somewhat for him : I'll tell
your honour the worst of him, a wild lad he has
been.

FOL. So we have been all, sir.

SIR B. So we have been all indeed, my lord ;
I thank your lordship's assistance. Some comic
pranks he has been guilty of; but I'll pawn my
credit for him, an honest, trusty bosom.

FOL. And that's worth all, sir.

SIR B. And that's worth all indeed, my lord, for

1 pair] See note, p. 346.
VOL. II. H H

350 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

he's like to have all when I die : imberbis juvenis,
his chin has no more prickles yet than a midwife's ;
there's great hope of his wit, his hair's so long
a-coming. Shall I be bold with your honour, to
prefer this aforesaid Ganymede to hold a plate
under your lordship's cup?

FOL. You wrong both his worth and your bounty,
andm you call that boldness. Sir, I have heard much
good of that young gentleman.

SIR B. Nay, has a good wit, i'faith, my lord.

FOL. Has carried himself always generously.

SIR B. Are you advised of that, my lord? has
carried many things cleanly. I'll shew your lord
ship my will ; I keep it above in an outlandish box ;
the whoreson boy must have all : I love him, yet
he shall ne'er find it as long as I live.

FOL. Well, sir, for your sake, and his own de
serving, I'll reserve a place for him nearest to my
secrets.

SIR B. I understand your good lordship ; you'll
make him your secretary. — My music ! give my
lord a taste of his welcome. \_A strain played by
the consort :n SIR BOUNTEOUS makes a courtly honour
to FOLLY WIT, and seems to foot the tune.'] So. — How
like you our airs, my lord ? are they choice ?

FOL. They're seldom matched, believe it.

SIR B. The consort of mine own household.

FOL. Yea, sir !

SIR B. The musicians are in ordinary, yet no
ordinary musicians. Your lordship shall hear my
organs now.

FOL. O, I beseech you, sir Bounteous !

SIR B. My organist! \_The organs play, and
servants with covered dishes pass over the stage.~] —

m and'] i. e. if. n consort] i. e. company of musicians.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 351

Come, my lord, how does your honour relish my
organ[s] ?

FOL. A very proud air, i'faith, sir.

SIR B. O, how can't choose ? a Walloon plays
upon 'em, and a Welchman blows wind in their
breech. [Exeunt.

\_A song to the organs,0

SCENE II.
A Gallery.

Enter SIR BOUNTEOUS, with FOLLYWIT, MAWWORM,
HOBOY, and others?

SIR B. You must pardon us, my lord, hasty
cates ; your honour has had even a hunting-meal
on't ; and now I am like to bring your lordship to
as mean a lodging ; a hard down bed, i'faith, my
lord, poor cambric sheets, and a cloth a' tissue
canopy ; the curtains, indeed, were wrought in
Venice, with the story of the Prodigal Child in
silk and gold ; only the swine are left out, my
lord, for*! spoiling the curtains.

FOL. 'Twas well prevented, sir.

SIR B. Silken rest, harmonious slumbers, and
venereal dreams to your lordship !

FOL. The like to kind sir Bounteous !

SIR B. Fie, not to me, my lord ; I'm old, past
dreaming of such vanities.

0 A song, &c.] During which, the audience were to suppose
that Sir Bounteous was feasting his guests.

P Mawworm, Hoboy, and others~\ Old eds. " and his consorts
[i. e. companions] toward his lodging." I originally marked this
scene " a bed-chamber ;" but Sir Bounteous seems to accom
pany Folly wit only to the door of his sleeping apartment.

1 /or] i. e. for fear of.

352 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

FOL. Old men should dream best.

SIR B. They're dreame[r]s indeed, my lord ;
you've gi'nt us. To-morrow your lordship shall see
my cocks, my fish-ponds, rny park, my champion**
grounds ; I keep champersr in my house can shew
your lordship some pleasure.

FOL. Sir Bounteous, you even whelm me with
delights.

SIR B. Once again, a musical night to your
honour ! I'll trouble your lordship no more.

FOL. Good rest, sir Bounteous. [Exit SIR BOUN
TEOUS.] — So, come, the vizards ! where be the
masking-suits ?

MAW. In your lordship's portmantua.

FOL. Peace, lieutenant.

MAW. I had rather have war, captain.

FOL. Pooh, the plot's ripe ! come, to our busi
ness, lad ;
Though guilt condemns, 'tis gilt8 must make us glad.

MAW. Nay, and* you be at your distinctions,
captain, I'll follow behind no longer.

FOL. Get you before, then, and whelm your nose
with your vizard ; go. \_Exit MAWWORM.

Now7, grandsire, you that hold me at hard meat,
And keep me out at the dag's end,u I'll fit you :
Under his lordship's leave, all must be mine
He and his will confesses ; what I take, then,

'i champion] See note, p. 73.

r champers] i. e., perhaps, horses (bridle- champers). Nares's
conjecture (in Gloss.), that " champers1' in this passage means
eaters, seems very absurd.

s gilf\ Compare p. 197, where see note.

e and} i. e. if.

u dag's end} " i. e. at a distance, as by a sword or pistol
advanced against me. Dag is an ancient word, signifying
either the one or the other." STEEVENS. Most commonly
it means pistol : see vol. i. p. 249.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 353

Is but a borrowing of so much beforehand ;
I'll pay him again when he dies in so many blacks ;v
I'll have the church hung round with a noblew a
yard, or requite him in scutcheons : let him trap
me in gold, and I'll lap him in lead ; quid pro quo.
I must look none of his angelsx in the face, for
sooth, until his face be not worth looking on : tut,
lads,

Let sires and grandsires keep us low, we must
Live when they're flesh, as well as when they're
dust. \_Exeunt.

SCENE III.

A Room in the Courtesan's House.
Enter Courtesan and Servant.

COUR. Go, sirrah, run presently to master Peni
tent Brothel ; you know his lodging ; knock him
up ; I know he cannot sleep for sighing ;
Tell him, I've happily bethought a mean
To make his purpose prosper in each limb,
Which only rests to be approv'd by him :
Make haste, I know he thirsts for't.

\_Exeunt severally.

SCENE IV.

A Gallery.

Enter FOLLYWIT in a masking suit, with a vizard in
his hand.

[Within'] Oh!

FOL. Hark ! they're at their business.

v blacks} " The common term formerly for mourning."
REED. w a noble'] See note, p. 17.

x angels'] See note, vol. i. p. 250.

354 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

[Within] Thieves, thieves !

FOL. Gag that gaping rascal ! though he be my
grandsire's chief gentleman i' th' chain ofgold^ I'll
have no pity of him.

Enter MAWWORM, HOBOY, and others, vizarded,

How now, lads ?

MAW. All's sure and safe ; on with your vizard,
sir ; the servants are all bound.

FOL. There's one care past then : come, follow
me, lads ; I'll lead you now to th' point and top of
all your fortunes : yon lodging is my grandsire's.

MAW. So, so ; lead on, on !

HOB. Here's a captain worth the following, and
a wit worth a man's love and admiring ! [Exeunt.2

SCENE V.

A Room opening into SIR BOUNTEOUS'S Bed-chamber,
from which enter FOLLYWIT, MAWWORM, HOBOY,
and others, dragging in SIR BOUNTEOUS in his
night-gown.

SIR B. O gentlemen, anda you be kind gentle
men, what countrymen are you ?

FOL. Lincolnshire men, sir.

SIR B. I am glad of that, i'faith.

FOL. And why should you be glad of that ?

SIR B. O, the honestest thieves of all come out
of Lincolnshire, the kindest -natured gentlemen ;
they'll rob a man with conscience ; they have a

y chief gentleman P th? chain of gold] See note, p. 347.

z Exeunt] Is not marked in the old eds., which, after Ho-
boy's speech, have a stage- direction, " Enter with Sir Boun
teous in his night-goivne"

u and] i. e. if.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 355

feeling of what they go about, and will steal with
tears in their eyes : ah, pitiful gentlemen !

FOL. Push,b money, money ! we come for
money.

SIR B. Is that all you come for ? Ah, what a
beast was I to put out my money t'other day !
Alas, good gentlemen, what shift shall I make for
you ? pray, come again another time.

FOL. Tut, tut, sir, money !

SIR B. O not so loud, sir ! you're too shrill a
gentleman : I have a lord lies in my house ; I would
not for the world his honour should be disquieted.

FOL. Who, my lord Owemuch ? we have took
order with him beforehand ; he lies bound in his
bed, and all his followers.

SIR B. Who, my lord ? bound my lord ? Alas,
what did you mean to bind my lord ? he could
keep his bed well enough without binding. You've
undone me in't already, you need rob me no
farther.

FOL. Which is the key ? come !

SIR B. Ah, I perceive now you're no true Lin
colnshire spirits ! you come rather out of Bedford
shire ; we cannot lie quiet in our beds for you.
So, take enough, my masters [they rifle his cabinets^ :
spur a free horse, my name's sir Bounteous ; a
merry world, i'faith ; what knight but I keep open
house at midnight ? Well, there should be a con
science, if one could hit upon't.

FOL. Away now ; seize upon him, bind him.

SIR B. Is this your court of equity? why should
I be bound for mine own money ? but come, come,
bind me, I have need on't ; I have been too liberal
to-night, keep in my hands [they bind him] : nay,

b Push] See note, vol. i. p. 29.

356 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

as hard as you list ; I am too good to bear my
lord company. You have watched your time, my
masters ; I was knighted at Westminster, but many
of these nights will make me a knight of Windsor.0
You've deserved so well, my masters, I bid you all
to dinner to-morrow : I would I might have your
companies, i'faith ; I desire no more.

FOL. O, ho, sir !

SIR B. Pray, meddle not with my organs, to put
'em out of tune.

FOL. O no, here's better music, sir.

SIR B. Ah, pox feast you !

FOL. Despatch with him, away ! [Exeunt HOBOY
and others, carrying SIR BOUNTEOUS into the bed
chamber J] — So, thank you, good grandsire ! This
was bounteously done of him, i'faith : it came
somewhat hard from him at first ; for, indeed, no
thing comes stiff from an old man but money ;
and he may well stand upon that, when he has
nothing else to stand upon. Where's our port-
mantua ?

MAW. Here, bully captain.

FOL. In with the purchase, d 'twill lie safe enough
there under 's nose, I warrant you. —

Re-enter HOBOY and others.

What, is all sure ?

HOB. All's sure, captain.

FOL. You know what follows now, one villain
binds his fellows ; go, we must be all bound for
our own securities, rascals. There's no dallying
upo' th' point ; you conceit me : there is a lord

c a knight of Windsor"] " i. e. one of the poor knights of
Windsor." REED.

d purchase] See note, vol. i. p. 319.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 357

to be found bound in the morning, and all his
followers ; can you pick out that lord now ?

MAW. O admirable spirit !

FOL. You ne'er plot for your safeties, so your
wants be satisfied.

HOB. But if we bind one another, how shall the
last man be bound ?

FOL. Pox on't, I'll have the footman 'scape.

FOOT. That's I ; I thank you, sir.

FOL. The footman, of all other, will be supposed
to 'scape, for he comes in no bed all night, but lies
in 's clothes, to be first ready i' th' morning; the
horse and he lie6 in litter together, that's the right
fashion of your bonny footman ; and his freedom
will make the better for our purpose, for we must
have one i' th' morning to unbind the knight, that
we may have our sport within ourselves. We now
arrive at the most ticklish point, to rob, and take
our ease, to be thieves, and lie by't : look to't,
lads, it concerns every man's gullet ; I'll not have
the jest spoiled, that's certain, though it hazard a
windpipe. I'll either go like a lord as I came, or
be hanged like a thief as I am ; and that's my
resolution.

MAW. Troth, a match, captain, of all hands !

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

A Room in the Courtesan's House.
Enter Courtesan meeting PENITENT BROTHEL.

COUR. O master Penitent iirotliel !
PEN. B. What is't, sweet lady Guilman, that so
seizes on thee with rapture and admiration ?

e lie~\ Old eds. " lies."

358 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

COUR. A thought, a trick, to make you, sir,
especially happy, and yet I myself a saver by it.

PEN. B. I would embrace that, lady, with such

courage,
I would not leave you on the losing hand.

COUR. I will give trust to you, sir. The cause,
then, why I raised you from your bed so soon,
wherein I know sighs would not let you sleep, thus
understand it :

You love that woman, master Harebrain's wife,
Which no invented means can crown with freedom
For your desires and her own wish but this,
Which in my slumbers did present itself.

PEN. B. I'm covetous, lady.

COUR. You know her husband, lingering in sus
pect,
Locks her from all society but mine.

PEN. B. Most true.

COUR. I only am admitted ; yet hitherto that has
done you no real happiness ; by my admittance
I cannot perform that deed that should please you,
you know : wherefore thus I've conveyed it, I'll
counterfeit a fit of violent sickness.

PEN. B. Good.

COUR. Nay, 'tis not so good, by my faith, but to
do you good.

PEN. B. And in that sense I called it : but take
me with you, lady ; e would it be probable enough
to have a sickness so suddenly violent ?

COUR. Pooh, all the world knows women are soon
down : we can be sick when we have a mind to't,
catch an ague with the wind of our fans, surfeit
upon the rump of a lark, and bestow ten pound in
physic upon't : we're likest ourselves when we're

e take me tvilh you, lady] See note, p. 22.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 359

down ; 'tis the easiest art and cunning for our sectf
to counterfeit sick, that are always full of fits when
we are well ; for since we were made for a weak,
imperfect creature, we can fit that best that we are
made for. I thus translated, and yourself slipt
into the form of a physician

PEN. B. I a physician, lady ? talk not on't, I
beseech you ; I shall shame the whole college.

COUR. Tut, man, any quacksalving terms will
serve for this purpose; for I am pitifully haunted
with a brace of elder brothers, new perfumed in
the first of their fortunes, and I shall see how for
ward their purses wilj be to the pleasing of my
palate, and restoring-t^f my health. Lay on load
enough upon 'em, and spare 'em not, for they're
good plump fleshly asses, and may well enough
bear it; let gold, % amber, and dissolved pearl, be
common ingrediences, and that you cannot compose
a cullice without 'em. Put but this cunningly in
practice, it shall be both a sufficient recompense
for all my pains in your love, and the ready means
to make mistress Harebrain way, by the visiting
of me, to your mutual desired company.

PEN. B. I applaud thee, kiss thee, and will con
stantly embrace it. \_Exeunt severally.

SCENE VII.

A Bed-chamber : FOLLYWIT, bound, in bed.

SIR B. [within] Ho, Gumwater !

FOL. Singlestone !

[Within] Jenkin, wa, ha, ho!

f sect] See note, p. 134. ,

« let gold, &c.] See note, p. 298.

360 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

[Within] Ewen!
[Within^ Simcod!
FOL. Footman ! whew !

FOOT, [within] O good your worship, let me
help your good old worship !

Enter SIR BOUNTEOUS, with a cord half unbound, and
Footman?1 assisting to loose him.

SIR B. Ah, poor honest footman ! how did'st
thou 'scape this massacre ?

FOOT. E'en by miracle, and lying in my clothes,
sir.

SIR B. I think so ; I would I had lain in my
clothes too, footman, so I had 'scaped 'em : I
could have but risse1 like a beggar then, and so I
do now, till more money come in ; but nothing
afflicts me so much, my poor geometrical footman,
as that the barbarous villains should lay violence
upon my lord. Ah, the binding of my lord cuts
my heart in two pieces ! So, so, 'tis well ; I thank
thee : run to thy fellows ; undo 'em, undo 'em,
undo 'em !

FOOT. Alas, if my lord should miscarry, they're
unbound already, sir ; they have no occupation but
sleep, feed, and fart. [Exit.

SIR B. If I be not ashamed to look my lord i'
th' face, I'm a Saracen. — My lord!

FOL. Who's that ?

SIR B. One may see he has been scared : a pox
on 'em for their labours !

FOL. Singlestone!

SIR B. Singlestone? I'll ne'er answer to that,
i'faith.

h Footman] That is, one of Follywit's companions in dis
guise : see p. 345.
5 risse} i. e. risen.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 361

FOL. Suchman!

SIR B. Suchman ? nor that neither, i'faith ; I am
not brought so low, though I be old.

FOL. Who's that i' th' chamber ?

SIR B. Good morrow, my lord ; 'tis I.

FOL. Sir Bounteous, good morrow; I would give
you my hand, sir, but I cannot come at it. Is this
the courtesy a' th' country, sir Bounteous ?

SIR B. Your lordship grieves me more than all

my loss ;

Tis the unnatural'st sight that can be found,
To see a noble gentleman hard bound.

FOL. Trust me, I thought you had been better
beloved, sir Bounteous ; but I see you have enemies,
sir, and your friends fare the worse for 'em. I
like your talk better than your lodging ; I ne'er
lay harder in a bed of down ; I have had a mad
night's rest on't. Can you not guess what they
should be, sir Bounteous ?

SIR B. Faith, Lincolnshire men, my lord.

FOL. How ? fie, fie, believe it not, sir ; these lie
not far off, I warrant you.

SIR B. Think you so, my lord ?

FOL. I'll be burnt and1 they do ; some that use
to your house, sir, and are familiar with all the
conveyances.

SIR B. This is the commodity* of keeping open
house, my lord ; that makes so many shut their
doors about dinner-time.

FOL. They were resolute villains : I made my
self known to 'em, told 'em what I was, gave 'em
my honourable word not to disclose 'em —

SIR B. O saucy, unmannerly villains !

FOL. And think you the slaves would trust me
upon my word ?

1 and] i. e. if. J commodity'] i. e. advantage, profit.

VOL. II. I i

362 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

SIR B. They would not ?

FOL. Forsooth, no ; I must pardon 'em : they
told me lords' promises were mortal, and commonly
die within half an hour after they are spoken ;
they were but gristles, and not one amongst a
hundred come to any full growth or perfection ;
and therefore, though I were a lord, I must enter
into bond.

SIR B. Insupportable rascals !

FOL. Troth, I'm of that mind. Sir Bounteous,
you fared the worse for my coming hither.

SIR B. Ah, good my lord, but I'm sure your
lordship fared the worse !

FOL. Pray, pity not me, sir.

SIR B. Is not your honour sore about the brawn
of the arm ? a murrain meet 'em, I feel it !

FOL. About this place, sir Bounteous ?

SIR B. You feel as it were a twinge, my lord ?

FOL. Ay, e'en a twinge, you say right.

SIR B. A pox discover 'em, that twinge I feel too !

FOL. But that which disturbs me most, sir
Bounteous, lies here.

SIR B. True ; about the wrist, a kind of tumid
numbness.

FOL. You say true, sir.

SIR B. The reason of that, my lord, is, the
pulses had no play.

FOL. Mass, so I guessed it.

SIR B. A mischief swell 'em, for I feel that too !

Enter MAW WORM.

MAW. 'Slid, here's a house haunted indeed !
SIR B. A word with you, sir.
FOL. How now, Singlestone ?
MAW. I'm sorry, my lord, your lordship has
lost

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 363

SIR B. Pup, pup, pup, pup, pup !
FOL. What have I lost ? speak.
SIR B. A good night's sleep, say.
FOL. Speak, what have I lost, I say ?
MAW. A good night's sleep, my lord, nothing
else.

FOL. That's true ; my clothes, come.

MAW. My lord's clothes ! his honour's rising.

Enter* HOBOY and others with clothes : they retire to
FOLLYWIT, behind the curtains, which are drawn.

SIR B. Hist, well said : come hither ; what has
my lord lost ? tell me, speak softly.

MAW. His lordship must know that, sir.

SIR B. Hush ! prithee tell me.

MAW. 'Twill do you no pleasure to know't, sir.

SIR B. Yet again ? I desire it, I say.

MAW. Since your worship will needs know't,
they have stolen away a jewel in a blue silk ribband
of a hundred pound price, beside some hundred
pounds in fair spur-royals.k

SIR B. That's some two hundred i' th' total.

MAW. Your worship's much about it, sir.

SIR B. Come, follow me ; I'll make that whole
again in so much money ; let not my lord know
on't.

MAW. O pardon me, sir Bounteous ! that were
a dishonour to my lord : should it come to his ear,
I should hazard my undoing by it.

SIR B. How should it come to his ear ? if you
be my lord's chief man about him, I hope you do
not use to speak unless you be paid for't ; and I

J Enter, &c.] The only stage-direction in old eds. is " Cur-
ns drawn." See note, vol. i. p. 264.
k spur-royals'] See note, p. 260.

364 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

had rather give you a counsellor's double fee to
hold your peace. Come, go to ; follow me, I say.

MAW. There will be scarce time to tell it, sir ;
my lord will away instantly.

SIR B. His honour shall stay dinner, by his
leave ; I'll prevail with him so far : and now I
remember a jest, I bade the whoreson thieves to
dinner last night ; I would I might have their com
panies ; a pox poison 'em ! [Exit,

MAW. Faith, and you are like to have no other
guess,1 sir Bounteous, if you have none but us ;
I'll give you that gift, i'faith. Exit.™

ACT III. SCENE I.

A Hall in HAREBRAIN'S House.
Enter HAREBRAIN, INESSE, and POSSIBILITY.

Pos. You see bold guests, master Harebrain.

HAR. You're kindly welcome to my house, good
master Inesse and master Possibility.

IN. That's our presumption, sir.

HAR. Ralph !

Enter RALPH.

RAL. Here, sir.

HAR. Call down your mistress to welcome these
two gentlemen, my friends.

RAL. I shall, sir. [Exit.

HAR. I will observe her carriage, and watch
The slippery revolutions of her eye ;
I'll lie in wait for every glance she gives,

1 gtiess] i. e. guests : see note, vol. i. p. 326.

m Exit] After Mawworm's speech in ed. 1640 is the fol
lowing stage-direction, " A Song, sung by the musitians, and
after the Song, a Country dance, by the Actors in their Vizards
to a new footing"

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 365

And poise her words i' th' balance of suspect :
If she but swag,n she's gone ; either on this hand
Over familiar, or this too neglectful :
It does behove her carry herself even. [Aside.

Pos. But, master Harebrain

HAR. True, I hear you, sir ; was't you said ?

Pos. I have not spoke it yet, sir.

HAR. Right, so I say.

Pos. Is it not strange, that in so short a time
my little lady Gullman should be so violently
handled ?

HAR. O, sickness has no mercy, sir !
It neither pities lady's lip nor eye ;
It crops the rose out of the virgin's cheek,
And so deflowers her that was ne'er deflower'd.0
Fools, then, are maids to lock from men that

treasure

Which death will pluck, and never yield 'em plea
sure.

Ah, gentlemen, though I shadow it, that sweet vir
gin's sickness grieves me not lightly ! she was my
wife's only delight and company. Did you not
hear her, gentlemen, i' th' midst of her extremest
fit, still how she called upon my wife, remembered
still my wife, sweet mistress Harebrain? When
she sent for me, a' one side of her bed stood the
physician, the scrivener on the other ; two horrible
objects, but mere opposites in the course of their
lives, for the scrivener binds folks, and the phy
sician makes them loose.

n swag] i. e. sink down, — in the balance.
0 And so deflowers her that was ne'er deflowered'] " The same
play upon words we find in Romeo and Juliet, A. 4. S. 5.

" See, there she lies,

Flower as she was, deflowered by him.
Death is my son-in-law," &c. REED.

366 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

Pos. But not loose of their bonds, sir.

HAR. No, by my faith, sir, I say not so : if the
physician could make 'em loose of their bonds,
there's many a one would take physic, that dares
not now for poisoning. But, as I was telling of
you, her will was fashioning, wherein I found her
best and richest jewel given as a legacy unto my
wife : when I read that, I could not refrain weeping.
Well, of all other my wife has most reason to visit
her ; if she have any good nature in her, she'll
shew it there. —

Re-enter RALPH.
Now, sir, where's your mistress ?

RAL. She desires you, and the gentlemen your
friends, to hold her excused ; sh'as a fit of an ague
now upon her, which begins to shake her.

HAR. Where does it shake her most ?

RAL. All over her body, sir.

HAR. Shake all her body ? 'tis a saucy fit, I'm
jealous of that ague. [Aside.~\ — Pray, walk in, gen
tlemen ; I'll see you instantly.

\_Exeunt INESSE and POSSIBILITY.

RAL. Now they are absent, sir, 'tis no such
thing.

HAR. What?

RAL. My mistress has her health, sir,
But 'tis her suit she may confine herself
From" sight of all men but your own dear self, sir ;
For since the sickness of that modest virgin,
Her only company, she delights in none.

HAR. No ? visit her again, commend me to her,
Tell her they're gone, and only I myself
Walk here t' exchange a word or two with her.

RAL. I'll tell her so, sir. [Exit.

HAR. Fool that I am, and madman, beast ! what
worse ?

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 367

Suspicious o'er a creature that deserves

The best opinion and the purest thought ;

Watchful o'er her that is her watch herself;

To doubt her ways that looks too narrowly

Into her own defects : I, foolish-fearful,

Have often rudely, out of giddy flames,

Barr'd her those objects which she shuns herself.

Thrice I've had proof of her most constant temper :

Come I at unawares by stealth upon her,

I find her circled in with divine writs

Of heavenly meditations ; here and there

Chapters with leaves tuck'd up, which when I see,

They either tax pride or adultery.

Ah, let me curse myself, that could be jealous

Of her whose mind no sin can make rebellious !

And here the unmatch'd comes.

Enter MISTRESS HAREBRAIN.

Now, wife, i'faith, they're gone ;

Push,0 see how fearful 'tis ! will you not credit me?

They're gone, i'faith ; why, think you I'll betray

you?

Come, come ; thy delight and mine,
Thy only virtuous friend, thy sweet instructress,
Is violently taken, grievous sick,
And, which is worse, she mends not.

Mis. H. Her friends are sorry for that, sir.

HAR. She calls still upon thee, poor soul, re
members thee still, thy name whirls in her breath ;
where's mistress Harebrain ? says she.

Mis. H. Alas, good soul !

HAR. She made me weep thrice :
Sh'as put thee in a jewel in her will.

Mis. H. E'en to th' last gasp a kind soul !

0 Push] See note, vol. i. p. 29.

368 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

HAR. Take my man, go, visit her.

Mis. H. Pray, pardon me, sir ;
Alas, my visitation cannot help her !

HAR. O, yet the kindness of a thing, wife ! — Still
She holds the same rare temper. [Aside."] — Take
my man, I say.

Mis. H. I would not take your man, sir,
Though I did purpose going.

HAR. No ? thy reason.

Mis. H. The world's condition is itself so vild,°

sir,

'Tis apt to judge the worst of those deserve not ;
'Tis an ill-thinking age, and does apply
All to the form of its own luxury ;P
This censure flies from one, that from another ;
That man's her squire, says he ; her pimp, the

tother ;
She's of the stamp, a third ; fourth, I ha' known

her :

I've heard this, not without a burning cheek.
Then our attires are tax'd ; our very gait
Is call'd in question ; where1* a husband's presence
Scatters such thoughts, or makes 'em sink for fear
Into the hearts that breed 'em : nay, surely,
If I went, sir, I would entreat your company.

HAR. Mine ? prithee, wife ; — I have been there
already.

Mis. H. That's all one ; although you bring me
but to th' door, sir, I would entreat no farther.

HAR. Thou'rt such a wife ! why, I will bring
thee thither then, but not go up, I swear.

Mis. H. I'faith, you shall not ; I do not desire
it, sir.

0 vild'] i. e. vile : see note, vol. i. p. 94.
p luxury'] i. e. lewdness.

1 ivhere'] i. e. whereas.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 369

HAR. Why, then, content.

Mis. H. Give me your hand, you will do so, sir ?
HAR. Why, there's my lip I will.
Mis. H. Why, then I go, sir.
HAR. With me, or no man ! incomparable such
a woman ! [Aside.'] \_Exeunt.

SCENE II.

The Courtesan's Bed-chamber. The Courtesan* dis
covered in bed ; phials, gallipots, plates, and an
hour-glass by her.

Enter PENITENT BROTHEL, disguised as a doctor of
physic.

PEN. B. Lady !

COUR. Ha, what news ?

PEN. B. There's one sir Bounteous Progress
newly alighted from his foot-cloth,3 and his mare
waits at door, as the fashion is.

COUR. 'Slid, 'tis the knight that privately main
tains me ; a little, short, old, spiny* gentleman in a
great doublet ?

PEN. B. The same ; I know 'm.

COUR. He's my sole revenue, meat, drink, and
raiment. My good physician, work upon him ;
I'm weak.

PEN. B. Enough.

r The Courtesan, &c.] Old eds. " The Curtizan on a bed, for
her counterfeit fitt."

5 foot-cloth'] See note, vol. i. p. 396. " It is observed by
Mr. Steevens, that anciently the housings of a horse, and
sometimes a horse himself, were denominated a foot-cloth."
REED.

1 spiny] i. e. thin, slender : see note, vol. i. p. 174.

3/0 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

Enter SIR BOUNTEOUS.

SIR B. Why, where be these ladies ? these plump,
soft, delicate creatures ? ha ?

PEN. B. Who would you visit, sir ?

SIR B. Visit, who ? what are you, with the
plague in your mouth ?

PEN. B. A physician, sir.

SIR B. Then you are a loose-liver, sir ; I have
put you to your purgation.

PEN. B. But you need none, you're purged in
a worse fashion.

COUR. Ah, sir Bounteous !

SIR B. How now ? what art thou ?

COUR. Sweet sir Bounteous !

SIR B. Passion of me, what an alteration's here !
Rosamond sick, old Harry ? here's a sight able to
make an old man shrink ! I was lusty when I came
in, but I am down now, i'faith : mortality ! yea,
this puts me in mind of a hole seven foot deep ;
my grave, my grave, my grave. Hist, master
doctor, a word, sir ; hark, 'tis not the plague, is't ?

PEN. B. The plague, sir ? no.

SIR B. Good.

PEN. B. He ne'er asks whether it be the pox or
no ; and of the twain that had been more likely.

[Aside.

SIR B. How now, my wench ? how dost ?

COUR. Huh, — weak, knight, — huh.

PEN. B. She says true, he's a weak knight in
deed. \_Aside.

SIR B. Where does it hold thee most, wench ?

COUR. All parts alike, sir.

PEN. B. She says true still, for it holds her in
none. [Aside.

SIR B. Hark in thine ear, thou'rt breeding of

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 371

young bones ; I am afraid I have got thee with
child, rfaith.

COUR. I fear that much, sir.

SIR B. O, O, if it should ! a young Progress when
all's done !

COUR. You have done your good will, sir.

SIR B. I see by her 'tis nothing but a surfeit of

Venus, i'faith ; and though I be old, I have gi'n't

her; — but since I had the power to make thee

?Sp sick, I'll have the purse to make thee whole, that's

certain. — Master doctor.

PEN. B. Sir ?

SIR B. Let's hear, I pray, what is't you minister
to her.

PEN. B. Marry, sir, some precious cordial, some
costly refocillation,* a composure comfortable and
restorative.

SIR B. Ay, ay, that, that, that.

PEN. B. No poorer ingrediences than the liquor
of coral, clear amber, or succmum ; unicorn's horn,
six grains ; magisterium perlarum, one scruple

SIR B. Ah, hah !u

PEN. B. Ossis de corde cervi, half a scruple ;
aurum potabile, or his tincture

SIR B. Very precious, sir.

PEN. B. All which being finely contunded, and
mixed in a stone or glass mortar with the spirit of
diamber

SIR B. Nay, pray, be patient, sir.

PEN. B. That's impossible ; I cannot be patient
and a physician too, sir.

SIR B. O, cry you mercy, that's true, sir.

PEN. B. All which aforesaid -

1 refocillation] " i. e. restoration of strength by refresh
ment." STEEVENS.

« Ah, hah'] So ed. 1640. First ed. " Ah."

372 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

SIR B. Ay, there you left, sir.

PEN. B. When it is almost exsiccate or dry, I
add thereto olei succini, olei masi, et cinnamomi.

SIR B. So, sir, olei masi, that same oil of mace is
a great comfort to both the counters.v

PEN. B. And has been of a long time, sir.

SIR B. Well, be of good cheer, wench ; there's
gold for thee, huh. — Let her want for nothing,
master doctor ; a poor kinswoman of mine, nature
binds me to have a care of her. — There I gulled
you, master doctor. [4*ide.~\ — Gather up a good
spirit, wench ! the fit will away ; 'tis but a surfeit
of gristles : — ha, ha, I have fitted her : an old
knight and a cock a' th' game still ; I have not
spurs for nothing, I see.

PEN. B. No, by my faith, they're hatched ; they
cost you an angel,w sir.

SIR B. Look to her, good master doctor ; let
her want nothing : I've given her enough already,
ha, ha, ha ! [Exit.

COUR. So, is he gone ?

PEN. B. He's like himself, gone.

COUR. Here's somewhat to set up with. How
soon he took occasion to slip into his own flattery,
soothing his own defects ! He only fears he has
done that deed which I ne'er feared to come from
him in my life. This purchasex came unlocked
for.

PEN. B. Hist, the pair of sons and heirs.

COUR. O, they're welcome ! they bring money.

v that same oil of mace is a great comfort to both the counters']
See note, vol. i. p. 392. " A pun, alluding to the maces which
were carried by the Serjeants or varlets when they arrested
people." REED.

w angel] See note, vol. i. p. 250.

x purchase'] See note, vol. i. p. 319.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 373

Enter INESSE and POSSIBILITY.

Pos. Master doctor.

PEN. B. I come to you, gentlemen.

Pos. How does she now ?

PEN. B. Faith, much after one fashion, sir.

IN. There's hope of life, sir I

PEN. B. I see no signs of death inv her.

Pos. That's some comfort ; will she take any
thing yet ?

PEN. B. Yes, yes, yes, she'll take still ; sh'as a
kind of facility in taking. How comes your bandw
bloody, sir ?

IN. You may see I met with a scab, sir.

PEN. B. Diversa genera scabierum, as Pliny re
ports, there are divers kind of scabs.

IN. Pray, let's hear 'em, sir.

PEN. B. An itching scab, that is your harlot ; a
sore scab, your usurer ; a running scab,x your pro
moter ; a broad scab, your intelligencer ; but a
white scab, that's a scald knave and a pander :
but, to speak truth, the only scabs we are now-a-
days troubled withal are new officers. y

IN. Why, now you come to mine, sir ; for I'll
be sworn one of them was very busy about my head
this morning, and he should be a scab by that ; for
they are ambitious, and covet the head.

PEN. B. Why, you saw I derived him, sir.

IN. You physicians are mad gentlemen.

PEN. B. We physicians see the most sights of
any men living. Your astronomers look upward
into th' air, we look downward into th' body ;

v in] So ed. 1640. First ed. " of."
w band] Ed. 1640, "hand."
* scab] So ed. 1640. Not in first ed.
y officers] Ed. 1640, " officers and Projectors."
VOL. II. K K

374 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

and, indeed, we have power upward and down
ward.

IN. That you have, i'faith, sir.

Pos. Lady, how cheer you now ?

COUR. The same woman still, — huh !

Pos. That's not good.

COUR. Little alteration. Fie, fie, you have been
too lavish, gentlemen.

IN. Puh, talk not of that, lady ; thy health's
worth a million. — Here, master doctor, spare for
no cost. [Giving money.

Pos. Look what you find there, sir.

COUR. What do you mean, gentlemen ? put up,

put up ;

You see I'm down, and cannot strive with you,
I'dT rule you else ; you have me at advantage ;
But if e'er2 I live, I will requite it deeply.

IN. Tut, an't come to that once, we'll requite
ourselves well enough.

Pos. Mistress Harebrain, lady, is setting forth
to visit you too.

COUR. Ha?— huh!

PEN. B. There struck the minutea that brings

forth the birth

Of all my joys and wishes : but see the jar now !
How shall I rid these from her ? [Aside.

COUR. Pray, gentlemen,
Stay not above an hour from my sight.

IN. 'S foot, we are not going, lady !

PEN. B. Subtilely brought about ! yet 'twill not
do ; they'll stick by't. — [Aside.

A word with you, gentlemen.

BOTH. What says master doctor ?

>' Pd~\ Old eds. " I would."

z e'er] Old eds. " euer."

a minute'] So 1640. Ed. 1608, " munit."

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS, 375

PEN. B. She wants but settling of her sense with

rest ;
One hour's sleep, gentlemen, would set all parts in

tune.

Pos. He says true, i'faith.

IN. Get her to sleep, master doctor ; we'll both
sit here and watch by her.

PEN. B. Hell's angels watch you ! no art can

prevail with 'em :

What with the thought of joys, and sight of crosses,
My wits are at Hercules' Pillars ; non plus ultra.

[Aside.

COUR. Master doctor, master doctor !
PEN. B. Here, lady.

COUR. Your physic works ; lend me your hand.
Pos. Farewell, sweet lady.
IN. Adieu, master doctor.

[Exeunt POSSIBILITY and INESSE.
COUR. So.

PEN. B. Let me admire thee !
The wit of man wanes and decreases soon,
But women's wit is ever at full moon.

Enter MISTRESS HAREBRAIN.

There shot a Star from heaven !

I dare not yet behold my happiness,

The splendour is so glorious and so piercing.

COUR. Mistress Harebrain, give my wit thanks
hereafter ; your wishes are in sight, your oppor
tunity spacious.

Mis. H. Will you but hear a word from me ?

COUR. Whooh !

Mis. H. My husband himself brought me to th'
door, walks below for my return ; jealousy is prick-
eared, and will hear the wagging of a hair.

COUR. Pish, you're a faint liver ; trust yourself

376 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

with your pleasure, and me with your security ;
go.

PEN. B. The fulness of my wish !

Mis. H. Of my desire !

PEN. B. Beyond this sphere I never will aspire !
[Exeunt PEN. BROTHEL and Mis. HAREBRAIN.
[HAREBRAIN opens the door and listens ;
the Courtesan perceiving him.

HAR. I'll listen : now the flesh draws nigh her

end,

At such a time women exchange their secrets,
And ransack the close corners of their hearts :
What many years havea whelm'd, this hour imparts.

[Aside.

COUR. Pray, sit down, there's a low stool. Good
mistress Harebrain, this was kindly done, — huh, —
give me your hand, — huh, — alas, how cold you
are ! even so is your husband, that worthy, wise
gentleman ; as comfortable a man to woman in my
case as ever trod — huh — shoe-leather. Love him,
honour him, stick by him : he lets you want no
thing that's fit for a woman ; and, to be sure on't,
he will see himself that you want it not.

HAR. And so I do, i'faith ; 'tis right my hu
mour. \Aside.

COUR. You live a lady's life with him ; go where
you will, ride when you will, and do what you will.

HAR. Not so, not so, neither ; she's better looked
to. \Aside.

COUR. I know you do, you need not tell me
that : 'twere e'en pity of your life, i'faith, if ever you
should wrong such an innocent gentleman. Fie,
mistress Harebrain, what do you mean ? come you
to discomfort me ? nothing but weeping with you ?

a have] Old eds. " hath."

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 377

HAR. She's weeping ! t'as made her weep : my
wife shews her good nature already. [Aside.

COUR. Still, still weeping ? huff, huff, huff; why,
how now, woman ? hey, hy, hy, for shame, leave ;
suh, suh, she cannot answer me for snobbing.a

HAR. All this does her good ; beshrew my heart,
andb I pity her ; let her shed tears till morning, I'll
stayJbr-Jver. She shall have enough on't, by my
good will ; I'll not be her hinderance. [Aside.

COUR. O no ! lay your hand here, mistress Hare-
brain ; ay, there : O there, there lies my pain,
good gentlewoman ! Sore ? O ay, I can scarce en
dure your hand upon't !

HAR. Poor soul, how she's tormented ! [Aside.

COUR. Yes, yelTpf'^at a cullisc an hour since.

HAR. There's some comfort in that yet, she may
'scape it. [Aside.

COUR. O, it lies about my heart much !

HAR. I'm sorry for that, i'faith ; she'll hardly
'scape it. [Aside.

\ COUR. Bound ? no, no ; I'd a very comfortable
stool this morning.

HAR. I'm glad of that, i'faith, that's a good sign ;
I smell she'll 'scape it now. [Aside.

COUR. Will you be going then ?

HAR. Fall back, she's coming. [Aside.

COUR. Thanks, good mistress Harebrain ; wel
come, sweet mistress Harebrain ; pray, commend
me to the good gentleman your husband.

HAR. I could do that myself now. [Aside.

COUR. And to my uncle Winchcomb, and to my
aunt Lipsalve, and to my cousin Falsetop, and to
my cousin Lickit, and to my cousin Horseman,

B snobbing] i. e. violent sobbing. Todd, in his ed. of Johns.
Diet., gives " To Snub, to sob with convulsion."
b and] i. e. if. c cullis] See notes, pp. 151, 298.

378 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

and to all my good cousins in Clerkenwell and
St. John's.

Re-enter Mis. HAREBRAIN and PEN. BROTHEL.

Mis. H. At three days' end my husband takes a
journey.

PEN. B. O thence I derive a second meeting !

Mis. H. May it prosper still !
Till then I rest a captive to his will. —
Once again, health, rest, and strength to thee, sweet
lady: farewell, you witty squall. — Good master
doctor, have a care to her body ; if you stand her
friend, I know you can do her good.

COUR. Take pity of your waiter ; go : farewell,
sweet mistress Harebrain.

HAR. [coming forward] Welcome, sweet wife,

alight upon my lip !
Never was hour spent better.

Mis. H. Why, were you
Within the hearing, sir ?

HAR. Ay, that I was, i'faith,

To my great comfort ; I deceiv'd you there, wife ;
Ha, ha !

I do entreat thee, nay, conjure thee, wife,
Upon my love, or what can more be said,
Oftener to visit this sick virtuous maid.

Mis. H. Be not so fierce, your will shall be
obeyed.

HAR. Why, then, I see thou lov'st me.

[Exit with Mis. HAREBRAIN.

PEN. B. Art of ladies!

When plots are e'en past hope, and hang their head,
Set with a woman's hand, they thrive and spread.

[Exit.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 379

SCENE III.

A Room.c
Enter FOLLY WIT, MAW WORM, HOBOY, and others.

FOL. Was't not well managed, you necessary
mischiefs ? did the plot want either life or art ?

MAW. 'Twas so well, captain, I would you could
make such another mussd at all adventures.

FOL. Dost call't a muss ? I am sure my grandsire
ne'er got his money worse in his life than I got it
from him. If ever he did cozen the simple, why, I
was born to revenge their quarrel ; if ever oppress
the widow, I, a fatherless child, have done as much
for him. And so 'tis through the world, either in
jest or earnest. Let the usurer look for't ; for craft
recoils in the end, like an overcharged musket, and
maims the very hand that puts fire to't. There
needs no more but a usurer's own blow to strike
him from hence to hell ; 'twill set him forward with
a vengeance. But here lay the jest, whoresons ;
my grandsire, thinking in his conscience that we
had not robbed him enough o'ernight, must needs
pity me i' th' morning, and give me the rest.

MAW. Two hundred pounds in fair rose-nobles,6
I protest.

FOL. Push/ I knew he could not sleep quietly
till he had paid me for robbing of him too : 'tis his
humour, and the humour of most of your rich men
in the course of their lives ; for, you know, they
always feast those mouths that are least needy,
and give them more that have too much already ;

c A Room] In the house of one of Folly wit's friends, as we
learn during the scene.

d muss} " i. e. scramble." REED.
* rose-nobles] See note, p. 253.
1 Push'] See note, vol. i. p. 29.

380 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

and what call you that but robbing of themselves
a courtlier way ? — O !

MAW. Cuds me, how now, captain ?

FOL. A cold fit that comes over my memory, and
has a shrewd pull at my fortunes.

MAW. What's that, sir ?

FOL. Is it for certain, lieutenant, that my grand-
sire keeps an uncertain creature, a quean ?

MAW. Ay, that's too true, sir.

FOL. So much the more preposterous for me ;
I shall hop shorter by that trick ; she carries away
the thirds at least : 'twill prove entailed land, I am
afraid, when all's done, i'faith. Nay,
I'vef known a vicious old thought-acting father
Damn'd only in his dreams, thirsting for game
(When his best parts hung down their heads for

shame),

For his blanch'd harlotg dispossess his son,
And make the pox his heir ; 'twas gravely done !
How hadst thou first knowledge on't, lieutenant ?

MAW. Faith, from discourse; yet, all the policy
That I could use, I could not get her name.

FOL. Dull slave, that ne'er could'st spy it !

MAW. But the manner of her coming was de
scribed to me.

FOL. How is the manner, prithee ?

MAW. Marry, sir, she comes most commonly
coached.

FOL. Most commonly coached, indeed ; for coaches
are as common now-a-days as some that ride in
'em. She comes most commonly coached ?

MAW. True, there I left, sir ; guarded with some
leash of pimps.

f I've] Old eds. " I haue."

« For his blanch'd harlot'] f( i. e. his harlot, whose skin is
made white by the use of cosmetics." STEEVENS.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 381

FOL. Beside the coachman ?

MAW. Right, sir; then alighting, she's privately
received by master Gumwater.

FOL. That's my grandsire's chief gentleman^ i' th*
chain of gold : that he should live to be a pander,
and yet look upon his chain and his velvet jacket !

MAW. Then is your grandsire rounded11 i' th'
ear ; the key given after the Italian fashion, back
ward ; she closely conveyed into his closet ; there
remaining, till either opportunity smile upon his
credit, or he send down some hot caudle to take
order in his performance.

FOL. Peace, 'tis mine own, i'faith ; I ha't !

MAW. How now, sir ?

FOL. Thanks, thanks to any spirit
That mingled it 'mongst my inventions !

HOB. Why, master Follywit

THE REST.1 Captain

FOL. Give me scope, and hear me.
I've-5 begot that means, which will both furnish me,
And make that quean walk under his conceit.

MAW. That were double happiness ; to put thy
self into money, and her out of favour.

FOL. And all at one dealing.

HOB. 'S foot, I long to see that hand played !

FOL. And thou shalt see't quickly, i'faith : nay,
'tis in grain ; I warrant it hold colour. Lieutenant,
step behind yon hanging : if I mistook not at my
entrance, there hangs the lower part of a gentle
woman's gown, with a mask and a chinclout :k bring

s gentleman, &c.] See note, p. 347.

h rounded~\ i. e. whispered.

1 The rest] Old eds. " AIV\ i I've] Old eds. " I haue."

k chinclout] i. e. a sort of muffler, which covered the lower
part of the face : see Douce's Illust. of Shakespeare, vol. ii,
p. 75.

382 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

all this way. Nay, but do't cunningly, now ; 'tis a
friend's house, and I'd use it so ; there's a taste for
you. \_Exit MAWWORM.

HOB. But, prithee,, what wilt thou do with a
gentlewoman's lower part ?

FOL. Why, use it.

HOB. You've answered me, indeed, in that; I can
demand no farther.

FOL. Well said. — Lieutenant

Re-enter MAWWORM with gorvn, fyc.

MAW. What will you do now, sir ?

FOL. Come, come, thou shalt see a woman quickly
made up here.

MAW. But that's against kind,k captain ; for they
are always long a-making ready.1

FOL. And is not most they do against kind, I
prithee ? To lie with their horse-keeper, is not
that against kind? to wear half moons m made of
another's hair, is not that against kind ? to drink
down a man, she that should set him up, pray is
not that monstrously against kind now ? Nay, over
with it, lieutenant, over with it; ever while you
live put a woman's clothes over her head : Cupid
plays best at blindman buff.

MAW. You shall have your will, maintenance ;
I love mad tricks as well as you for your heart,
sir : but what shift will you make for upper-bodies,
captain ?

FOL. I see now thou'rt an ass ; why, I'm ready.

MAW. Ready ?

k kind~\ i. e. nature.

1 making ready'} i. e. dressing : see note, p. 224.

m half moons] " The edition of 1640 has ' periwigs? as if it
was not then understood why they were called half moons."
COLLIER.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 383

FOL. Why, the doublet serves as well as the
best, and is most in fashion ; we're all male to th'
middle ; mankind from the beaver to th' bum.
'Tis an Amazonian time ; you shall have women
shortly tread their husbands. I should have a
couple of locks behind ; prithee, lieutenant, find 'em
out for me, and wind 'em about my hatband : nay,
you shall see, we'll be in fashion to a hair, and be
come all with probability : the most musty-visage
critic shall not except against me.

MAW. Nay, I'll give thee thy due behind thy
back ; thou art as mad a piece of clay

FOL. Clay ! dost call thy captain clay ? Indeed,
clay was made to stop holes ; he says true. Did
not I tell you, rascals, you should see a woman
quickly made up?

HOB. I'll swear for't, captain.

FOL. Come, come, my mask and my chinclout —
come into th' court.

MAW. Nay, they were both i' th' court long ago,
sir.

FOL. Let me see ; where shall I choose two or
three for pimps, now ? but I cannot choose amiss
amongst you all, that's the best. Well, as I am a
quean, you were best have a care of me, and guard
me sure. I give you warning beforehand ; 'tis a
monkey-tailed age. Life, you shall go nigh to have
half a dozen blithe fellows surprise me cowardly,
carry me away with a pair of oars, and put in at
Putney !

MAW. We should laugh at that, i'faith.

FOL. Or shoot in upo' th' coast of Cue.n

MAW. Two notable fit landing-places for lechers,
P and C, Putney and Cue.

n Cue] "i. e. Kew." REED.

384 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

FOL. Well, say you have fair warning on't ; the
hair about the hat is as good as a flag0 upo' th'
pole at a common play-house, to waft company ;
and a chinclout is of that powerful attraction, I can
tell you, 'twill draw more linen to't.

MAW. Fear not us, captain ; there's none here
but can fight for a whore as well as some Inns-a'-
court-man.

FOL. Why, then, set forward ; and as you scorn
two-shilling brothel,

Twelvepenny panderism, and such base bribes,
Guard me from bonny scribs and bony scribes. P

MAW. Hang 'em, pensions and allowances ! four-
pence halfpenny a meal, hang 'em ! [Exeunt.

ACT IV. SCENE I.

A Chamber in PENITENT BROTHEL'S House.

Enter out of his study PENITENT BROTHEL,*! a look in
his hand.

PEN. B. Ha? read that place again — Adultery
Drams the divorce 'twixt heaven and the soul.
Accursed man, that stand'st divorc'd from heaven !
Thou wretched unthrift, that hast play'd away
Thy eternal portion at a minute's game ;
To please the flesh hast blotted out thy name !
Where were thy nobler meditations busied,
That they durst trust this body with itself;

0 a flag] See note, p. 332.

P bony scribes} Ed. 1640, " bony scribes and bony rags."

1 Brothel] Old eds. " Once-Ill" — which was, no doubt, the
name originally given by Middleton to this character, and
which, through an oversight, had remained unaltered in some
parts of the MS. used for the press.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 385

This natural drunkard, that undoes us all,
And makes our shame apparent in our fall ?
Then let my blood pay for't, and vex and boil !
My soul, I know, would never grieve to th' death
Th' eternal spirit, that feeds her with his breath :
Nay, I that knew the price of life and sin,
What crown is kept for continence, what for lust,
The-end *>f man, and -glory of that end,
As endless as the giver,

To doat on weakness, slime, corruption, woman !
What is she, took asunder from her clothes ?
Being ready,1" she consists of hundred pieces,
Much like your German clock,8 and near ally'd ;
Both are so nice, they cannot go for pride :
Beside a greater fault, but too well known,
They'll strike to ten, when they should stop at one.
Within these three days the next meeting's fix'd ;
If I meet then, hell and my soul be mix'd !
My lodging I know constantly, she not knows :
Sin's hate is the best gift that sin bestows :
I'll ne'er embrace her more ; never, bear witness,
never.

Enter Succubus in the shape of Mis. HAREBRAIN,*
and claps him on the shoulder.

Sue. What, at a stand ? the fitter for my com
pany.

PEN. B. Celestial soldiers guard me !
Sue. How now, man ?
'Las, did the quickness of my presence fright thee ?

T ready'] i. e. dressed : see note, p. 224.

s much like your German clock'] An allusion to the cumbrous
and complicated machinery of our first clocks, which came
from Germany : see Gifford's note, B. Jonson's Worlcs, iii. 432.

4 Enter Succubus in the shape of Mis. Harebrain\ Old eds.
have " Enter the Diuell in her shape," but prefix Succubus to

VOL. II. L L

386 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

PEN. B. Shield me,u you ministers of faith and
grace !

Sue. Leave, leave ; are you not ashamed to use
such words to a woman ?

PEN. B. Thou'rt a devil !

Sue. A devil ? feel, feel, man ; has a devil flesh
and bone ?

PEN. B. I do conjure thee, by that dreadful
power

Sue. The man has a delight to make me tremble —
Are these the fruits of thy adventurous love ?
Was I tic'dv for this, to be so soon rejected ?
Come, what has chang'd thee so, delight ?

PEN. B. Away !

Sue. Remember

PEN. B. Leave my sight !

Sue. Have I this meeting wrought with cunning,
Which, when I come, I find thee shunning ?
Rouse thy amorous thoughts, and twine me ;
All my interest I resign thee :
Shall we let slip this mutual hour,
Comes so seldom in herw power ?

his speeches. Concerning the evil spirits called Sticcubee,

" that are said

To put on feminine feature ....

To draw men headlong with them to perdition,"

see that very curious work by Hey wood, The Hierarchie of the
Blessed Angels, 1635, pp. 500, 542.

u Shield me, &c.] " See Hamlet. [' Angels and ministers of
grace defend us.' Act i. sc. 4.] " STEEVENS.

v tic'd] i. e. enticed. — Old eds.

" Was I entis'st/or this ? to be soone reiected."

w her] i. e. of the hour — which I notice, because in the
margin of an old copy now before me, some reader has con
jectured " our."

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 387

Where's thy lip, thy clip, thy fadom ? w

Had women such loves, would't not mad 'em ?

Art a man ? or dost abuse one ?

A love, and know'st not how to use one !

Come, I'll teach thee.

PEN. B. Do not follow

Sue. Once so firm, and now so hollow !
When was place and season sweeter ?
Thy bliss in sight, and dar'st not meet her ?
Where's thy courage, youth, and vigour ?
Love's best pleas'd when't's seiz'dx with rigour :
Seize me, then, with veins most cheerful ;
Women love no flesh that's fearful :
'Tis but a fit ; come, drink't away,
And dance and sing, and kiss and play !
Fa le la, le la, fa le la, le la la ;
Falela, fa la le, la le la !

[Singing and dancing round him.

PEN. B. Torment me not !

Sue. Fa le la, fa le la, fa la la lo !

PEN. B. Fury !

Sue. Fa le la, fa le la, fa la la lo !

PEN. B. Devil, I do conjure thee once again,
By that soul-quaking thunder, to depart,
And leave this chamber freed from thy damn'd
art ! \_Succubus stamps, and exit.

It has prevail'd — O my sin-shaking sinews !
What should I think ? — Jasper, why, Jasper !

Enter JASPER.
JAS. Sir ? how now ? what has disturb'd you, sir ?

w fadom] i. e. fathom — so written for the sake of the rhyme.

x Seiz'd] " Both the quartos read seard ; and again, scare
[first ed. « ceare '] in the next line. The alteration by Mr.
Dodsley." REED. Compare p. 178 and note.

388 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

PEN. B. A fit, a qualm. Is mistress Harebrain?
gone ?

JAS. Who, sir ? mistress Harebrain ?

PEN. B. Is she gone, I say ?

JAS. Gone ? why, she was never here yet.

PEN. B. No ?

JAS. Why, no, sir.

PEN. B. Art sure on't ?

JAS. Sure on't?
If I be sure I breathe, and am myself.

PEN. B. I like it not. [A side. ~] — Where kept'st
thou?

JAS. I' th' next room, sir.

PEN. B. Why, she struck by thee, man.

JAS. You'd make one mad, sir ; that a gentle
woman should steal by me, and I not hear her !
's foot, one may hear the ruffling of their bums2
almost an hour before we see 'em.

PEN. B. I will be satisfied, although to hazard.
What though her husband meet me ? I am honest :
When men's intents are wicked, their guilt haunts

'em ;

But when they're just, they're arm'd, and nothing
daunts 'em. [Aside, and exit.

JAS. What strange humour call you this ? he
dreams of women, and both his eyes broad open !

[Exit.

y Harebrain} Old eds. here, and the next speech, " Har-
graue," a name which Middleton had once given to this lady,
and which he had neglected to alter in some parts of the MS.
used by the printer : see also note, p. 404.

z bums'] See note, vol. i. p. 432.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 389

SCENE II.
A Room in SIR BOUNTEOUS'S House.

Enter at one door SIR BOUNTEOUS, at another GUM-
WATER.

SIR B. Why, how now, master Gumwater ? what's
the news with your haste ?

GUM. I have a thing to tell your worship —

SIR B. Why, prithee, tell me ; speak, man.

GUM. Your worship shall pardon me, I have
better bringing-up than so.

SIR B. How, sir ?

GUM. 'Tis a thing made fit for your ear, sir —

SIR B. O, O, O, cry you mercy ; now I begin to
taste you. Is she come ?

GUM. She's come, sir.

SIR B. Recovered ? well and sound again ?

GUM. That's to be feared, sir.

SIR B. Why, sir ?

GUM. She wears a linen cloth about her jaw.a

SIR B. Ha, ha, haw ! why, that's the fashion,
You whoreson Gumwater.

GUM. The fashion, sir ?
Live I so long time to see that a fashion,
Which rather was an emblem of dispraise ?
It was suspected much in Monsieur's days.b

a a linen cloth about her jaw~\ i. e. the chinclout : see p. 381
and note.

b It was suspected much in Monsieur's days'] " By Monsieur's
days, I apprehend, the author means the time when the duke
of Anjou resided in England. That prince, brother to Charles
the Ninth, king of France, on the encouragement he had re
ceived from Queen Elizabeth, visited the English court in
the year 1581, and expected to have been united to her ma
jesty in marriage. The queen, however, after many affected
delays, broke off the treaty ; and the duke was obliged to re-

390 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

SIR B. Ay, ay, in those days ; that was a queasyb
time : our age is better hardened now, and put
oftener in the fire ; we are tried what we are. Tut,
the pox is as natural now as an ague in the spring
time ; we seldom take physic without it. Here,
take this key ; you knowc what duties belong to't.
Go, give order for a cullis :d let there be a good fire
made i' th' matted chamber : do you hear, sir ?

GUM. I know my office, sir. \_Exit.

SIR B. An old man's venery is very chargeable,
my masters ; there's much cookery belongs to't.

[Exit.

SCENE III.
Another Chamber in SIR BOUNTEOUS'S House.

Enter GUMWATER, with FOLLYWIT disguised as the
Courtesan and masked.

GUM. Come, lady : you know where you are
now?

FOL. Yes, good master Gumwater.

GUM. This is the old closet, you know.

FOL. I remember it well, sir.

GUM. There stands a casket : I would my yearly

turn to his own country, with the disgrace of a direct refusal.
Monsieur's days are mentioned again in The Blacke JBooke, 1604,
sign. c. ' — let mercers then have conscionable thumbs
when they measure out that smooth glittering devil, sattin,
and that old reveller, velvet, in the days of Monsieur, both
which have devoured many an honest field of wheat and
barley.' " REED. The piece just cited is by Middleton,
and will be found in the last vol. of the present work. So
too in Marmyon's Fine Companion, 1633, " Two or three
dances, as old as Mounsier." Sig. G 2.

b queasy"] i. e. squeamish.

c know'} So ed. 1640. First ed. " knew."

d cullis] See notes, pp. 151, 298.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 391

revenue were but worth the wealth that's locked
in't, lady ! yet I have fifty pound a-year, wench.

FOL. Beside your apparel, sir ?

GUM. Yes, faith, have I.

FOL. But then you reckon your chain,d sir.

GUM. No, by my troth, do I not, neither : faith,
and6 you consider me rightly, sweet lady, you
might admit a choice gentleman into your service.

FOL. O, pray away, sir !

GUM. Pusha,f come, come; you do but hinder
your fortunes, i'faith : I have the command of all
the house, I can tell you ; nothing comes into th'
kitchen, but comes through my hands.

FOL. Pray do not handle me, sir.

GUM. Faith you're too nice, lady ; and as for my
secrecy, you know I have vowed it often to you.

FOL. Vowed it ? no, no, you men are fickle.

GUM. Fickle ? 'sfoot ! bind me, lady —

FOL. Why, I bind you by virtue of this chain to
meet me to-morrow at the Flower-de-luce yonder,
between nine and ten.

GUM. And if I do not, lady, let me lose it, thy
love, and my best fortunes !

FOL. Why, now I'll try you ; go to.

GUM. Farewell, sweet lady !

[Kisses FOLLYWIT, and exit.

FOL. Welcome, sweet coxcomb ! by my faith, a
good induction ! I perceive by his overworn phrase,
and his action toward the middle region still, there
has been some saucy nibbling motion ; and no doubt
the cunning quean waited but for her prey : and I
think 'tis better bestowed upon me, for his soul's
health, and his body's too. I'll teach the slave to
be so bold yet, as once to offer to vault into his

d chain] See note, p. 381. e and] i. e. if.

f Pusha] See note, vol. i. p. 29.

392 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

master's saddle, i'faith. Now, casket, by your
leave :

I'vef seen your outside oft, but that's no proof;
Some have fair outsides that are nothing worth.

[Rifles the casket.

Ha! now, by my faith, a gentlewoman of very
good parts ; diamond, ruby, sapphire ; Onyx cum
prole silexquefz if I do not wonder how the quean
'scaped tempting, I'm an hermaphrodite ! sure she
could lack nothing, but the devil to point to't ; and
I wonder that he should be missing : well, 'tis
better as it is. This is the fruit of old grunting
venery ; grandsire, you may thank your drab for
this. O fie, in your crinkling days, grandsire, keep
a courtesan, to hinder your grandchild ! 'tis against
nature, i'faith, and I hope you'll be weary on't.
Now to my villains that lurk close below :
Who keeps a harlot, tell him this from me,
He needs nor thief, disease, nor enemy. [Exit.

Enter SIR BOUNTEOUS.

SIR B. Ah, sirrah, methink I feel myself well
toasted, bombasted, rubbed, and refreshed ! but,
i'faith, I cannot forget to think how soon sickness
has altered her to my taste. I gave her a kiss at
bottom o' th' stairs, and, by th' mass, methought
her breath had much ado to be sweet ; like a thing
compounded, methought, of wine, beer, and tobac
co; I smelt much pudding11 in't.
It may be but my fancy, or her physic :
For this I know, her health gave such content,
The fault rests in her sickness, or my scent. —
How dost thou now, sweet girl ? what, well recover'd ?

f I've] Old eds. " I haue."

£ Onyx cum prole, silexque~\ (( From Propria quee maribus."
STEEVENS.

h pudding'] i. e. tobacco made up in a particular form.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 393

Sickness quite gone, ha? speak — ha? wench?

Frank Gullman ! —

Why, body of me, what's here ? my casket wide
open, broke open, my jewels stolen ! — Why, Gum-
water !

Re-enter GUMWATER.

GUM. Anon, anon, sir.

SIR B. Come hither, Gumwater.

GUM. That were small manners, sir, i'faith : I'll
find a time anon : your worship's busy yet.

SIR B. Why, Gumwater !

GUM. Foh, nay then you'll make me blush,
i'faith, sir —

SIR B. Where's this creature ?

GUM. What creature is't you'd have, sir ?
. SIR B. The worst that ever breathes.

GUM. That's a wild boar, sir.

SIR B. That's a vildh whore, sir; — where didst
thou leave her, rascal ?

GUM. Who ? your recreation, sir ?

SIR B. My execration, sir !

GUM. Where I was wont ; in your worship's
closet.

SIR B. A pox engross her ! it appears too true.
See you this casket, sir ?

GUM. My chain, my chain, my chain! my one
and only chain ! \_Exit.

SiRB. Thou runnest to much purpose now, Gum-
water, yea ! Is not a quean enough to answer for,
but she must join a thief to't? a thieving quean !
nay, I have done with her, i'faith. 'Tis a sign sh'as
been sick a' late ; for she's a great deal worse than

h vild~] Altered in the eds. of Dodsley's Old Plays to the
modern spelling " vile," which destroys the (very poor) play
on words.

394 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

she was : by my troth, I would have pawned my
life upon't.

Did she want any thing ? was she not supplied ?
Nay, and liberally ; for that's an old man's sin :
We'll feast our lechery, though we starve our kin.
Is not my name sir Bounteous ? am I not express'd

there ?

Ah, fie, fie, fie, fie, fie ! but I perceive,
Though she have never so complete a friend,
A strumpet's love will have a wafth i' th' end,
And distaste the vessel. I can hardly bear this ;
But say, I should complain ; perhaps she has

pawn'd 'em —

'S foot, the judges will but laugh at it, and bid her
borrow more money of 'em ; make the old fellow
pay for's lechery ; that's all the mends I get. I
have seen the same case tried at Newbury the last
'sizes.

Well, things must slip and sleep ; I will dissemble it,
Because my credit shall not lose her lustre :
But whilst I live, I'll neither love nor trust her.
I ha' done, I ha' done, I ha' done with her, i'faith !

[Exit.

SCENE IV.

A Hall in HAREBRAIN'S House.
Knocking within ; * enter a Servant.

SER. Who's that knocks ?

PEN. B. [within] A friend. [Servant opens the door.

Enter PENITENT BROTHEL.
SER. What's your will, sir ?

h waft\ i. e. flavour.

1 Knocking within] Old eds. " Master Penitent Once-Ill
knocking within :" see note, p. 384.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 395

PEN. B. Is master HarebrainJ at home ?

SER. No, newly gone from it, sir.

PEN. B. Where's the gentlewoman his wife ?

SER. My mistress is within, sir.

PEN. B. When came she in, I pray?

SER. Who, my mistress ? she was not out these
two days, to my knowledge.

PEN. B. No ? trust me, I'd thought I'd seen her.
I would request a word with her.

SER. I'll tell her, sir.

PEN. B. I thank you. [Exit Servant^] It likes
mek worse and worse.

Enter MISTRESS HAREBRAIN.

Mis. H. Why, how now, sir ? 'twas desperately

adventur'd ;
I little look'd for you until the morrow.

PEN. B. No?
Why what made you at my chamber then even

now ?

Mis. H. I at your chamber ?
PEN. B. Pooh, dissemble not ;
Come, come, you were there.

Mis. H. By my life, you wrong me, sir !

PEN. B. What?

Mis. H. First, you're not ignorant what watch

keeps o'er me ;

And for your chamber, as I live, I know't not.
PEN. B. Burst into sorrow then, and grief's ex
tremes,
Whilst I beat on this flesh !

Mis. H. What is't disturbs you, sir ?

J Harebrain] Here, and throughout the scene, she and her
husband are called " Hargraue" in the old eds. : see notes,
pp. 388, 404.

k likes me] " i. e. pleases me." REED.

396 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

PEN. B. Then was the devil in your likeness
there.

Mis. H. Ha!

PEN. B. The very devil assum'd thee formally ; m
That face, that voice, that gesture, that attire,
E'en as it sits on thee, not a plait alter'd ;
That beaver band, the colour of that periwig,"
The farthingale above the navel ; all
As if the fashion were his own invention.

Mis. H. Mercy, defend me !

PEN. B. To beguile me more,
The cunning Succubus told me that meeting
Was wrought 'a purpose by much wit and art ;
Wept to me ; laid my vows before me ; urg'd me ;
Gave me the private marks of all our love ;
Woo'd me in wanton and effeminate rhymes,
And sung and danc'd about me like a fairy :
And had not worthier cogitations blest me,
Thy form, and his enchantments, had possess'd me.

Mis. H. What shall become of me? my own
thoughts doom me.

PEN. B. Be honest, then the devil will ne'er

assume thee :

He has no pleasure in that shape t' abide
Where these two sisters reign not, lust or pride ;
He as much trembles at a constant mind
As looser flesh at him : be not dismay'd ;
Spring, souls, for joy ! his policies are betray'd !
Forgive me, mistress Harebrain, on whose soul
The guilt hangs double,

My lust, and thy enticement ! both I challenge ;
And therefore of due vengeance it appear'd
To none but me, to whom both sins inher'd.

m assum'd thee formally'] " i. e. assumed thy form." REED.
n periwig] When this play was written, periwigs were much
worn by ladies.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 397

What knows the lecher, when he clips11 his whore,
Whether it be the devil his parts adore ?
They're both so like, that, in our natural sense,

I could discern no change nor difference.

No marvel, then, times should so stretch and turn ;
None for religion, all for pleasure burn.
Hot zeal into hot lust is now transform'd ;
Grace into painting, charity into clothes ;
Faith into false hair, and put off as often.
There's nothing but our virtue knows a mean :
He that kept open house, now keeps a quean.
He will keep open still, that he commends ;
And there he keeps a table for his friends :
And she consumes more than his0 sire could hoard,
Being more common than his house or board.

Enter HAREBRAIN behind.

Live honest, and live happy, keep thy vows ;
She's part a virgin whom but one man knows :
Embrace thy husband, and beside him none ;
Having but one heart, give it but to one.

Mis. H. I vow it on my knees, with tears true-
bred,
No man shall ever wrong my husband's bed !

PEN. B. Rise ; I'm thy friend for ever.

HAR. [coming forward^ And I thine
For ever and ever ! — Let me embrace thee, sir,
Whom I will love even next unto my soul,
And that's my wife.

Two dear rare gems this hour presents me with,
A wife that's modest, and a friend that's right :
Idle suspect and fear, now take your flight !

PEN. B. A happy inward peace crown both your
joys!

II clips] "i. e. embraces." REED. ° Afr] Old eds. "her."

VOL. II. M M

398 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

HAR. Thanks above utterance to you !—
Enter Servant.

Now, the news ?

SER. Sir Bounteous Progress, sir,
Invites you and my mistress to a feast
On Tuesday next ; his man attends without.

HAR. Return both with our willingness and
thanks. — [Exit Servant.

I will entreat you, sir, to be my guest.
PEN. B. Who, I, sir ?
HAR. Faith, you shall.
PEN. B. Well, I'll break strife.
HAR. A friend's so rare, I'll sooner part from
life. [Exeunt.

SCENE V.

A Room in the Courtesan's House.
Enter FOLLYWIT, and the Courtesan striving from him.

FOL. What, so coy, so strict ? come, come !

COUR. Pray, change your opinion, sir ; I am not
for that use.

FOL. Will you but hear me?

COUR. I shall hear that I would riot. [Exit.

FOL. 'S foot, this is strange ! I've seldom seen a

wench

Stand upon stricter points : life, she will not
Endure to be courted ! does she e'er think to pro
sper ?

I'll ne'er believe that tree can bring forth fruit
That never bears a blossom ; courtship's a blossom,
And often brings forth fruit in forty weeks.
'Twere a mad part in me now to turn over :
If e'er0 there were any hope on't, 'tis at this instant.

0 e'er} Old eds. " euer."

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 399

Shall-I be madder now than e'er I've" been ?

I'm in the way, i'faith.

Man's never at high height of madness full

Until he love, and prove a woman's gull.

I do protest in earnest, I ne'er knew

At which end to begin t' affect a woman

Till this bewitching minute ; I ne'er saw

Face worth my object till mine eye met hers ;

I should laugh and0 I were caught, i'faith: I'll see

her again, that's certain, whate'er comes on't, by

your favour, ladies. P

Enter Mother.

MOT. You're welcome, sir.

FOL. Know you the young gentlewoman that
went in lately ?

MOT. I have best cause to know her ; I'm her
mother, sir.

FOL. O, in good time. I like the gentlewoman
well ; a pretty contrived beauty.

MOT. Ay, nature has done her part, sir.

FOL. But she has one uncomely quality.

MOT. What's that, sir ?

FOL. 'S foot, she's afraid of a man.

MOT. Alas ! impute that to her bashful spirit,
She's fearful of her honour.

FOL. Of her honour? 'slid, I'm sure I cannot get
Her maidenhead with breathing upon her,
Nor can she lose her honour in her tongue.

11 e'er T've~\ Old eds. " euer I haue." ° and] i. e. if.

P by your favour, ladies'] " The players of James the First's
time seem to have been as censurable for addressing the
audience as any of their successors since. This speech is evi
dently not intended for the bawd, who now enters alone. In
the same manner sir Bounteous speaks to the auditors, when
he says, ' An old man's venery is very chargeable, my mas
ters ; there's much cookery belongs to't.' [p. 390.]" REED.

400 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

MOT. True ; and I have often told her so ; but
what would you have of a foolish virgin, sir, a wilful
virgin ? I tell you, sir, I need not have been in that
solitary estate that I am, had she had grace and
boldness to have put herself forward ; always timor-
some, always backward! Ah, that same peevish0
honour of hers has undone her and me both, good
gentleman ! the suitors, the jewels, the jointures,
that haveP been offered her ! we had been made
women** for ever : but what was her fashion ? she
could not endure the sight of a man, forsooth, but
run and holer herself presently. So choice of her
honour, I am persuaded, whene'er she has husband,
She'll8 e'en be a precedent for all married wives
How to direct their actions and their lives.

FOL. Have you not so much power with her to
command her presence ?

MOT. You shall see straight what I can do, sir.

[Exit.

FOL. Would I might be hanged, if my love do not
stretch to her deeper and deeper ! Those bashful
maiden humours take me prisoner. When there
comes a restraint upon* flesh, we are always most
greedy upon't ; and that makes your merchant's
wife oftentimes pay so dear for a mouthful. Give
me a woman as she was made at first ; simple of
herself, without sophistication, like this wench :
I cannot abide them when they have tricks, set
speeches, and artful entertainments.
You shall have some so impudently aspected,
They will outcry the forehead of a man,

0 peevish] i. e. foolish. P have] Old eds. " has."

1 made women] i. e. women whose fortunes are made.

1 hole] i. e. hide. s She'll] Old eds. " she will."

1 restraint upon] So ed. 1640. First ed. " restraint on't
upon."

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 401

Make him blush first, and talk him into silence ;

And this is counted manly in a woman :

It may hold so ; sure, womanly it is not.

No;

If e'er I love, or any thing move me,

'Twill be a woman's simple modesty.

Re-enter Mother, bringing in strivingly the Courtesan.

COUR. Pray, let me go ; why, mother, what do

you mean ?

I beseech you, mother ! is this your conquest now ?
Great glory 'tis to overcome a poor
And silly virgin.

FOL. The wonder of our time sits in that brow :
I ne'er beheld a perfect maidr till now.

MOT. Thou childish thing, more bashful than

thou'rt wise,

Why dost thou turn aside, and drown thine eyes ?
Look, fearful fool, there's no temptation near thee ;
Art not asham'd that any flesh should fear thee ? s
Why, I durst pawn my life the gentleman
Means no other but honest and pure love to thee.—
How say you, sir ?

FOL. By my faith, not I, lady.

MOT. Hark you there ? what think
You now, forsooth ? what grieves your honour now ?
Or what lascivious breath intends to rear
Against that maiden organ, your chaste ear ?
Are you resolv'd* now better of men's hearts,
Their faiths, and their affections ? With you none,
Or at most few, whose tongues and minds are one.
Repent you now of your opinion past ;
Men love as purely as you can be chaste. —

r maid~\ Old eds. " man."

s fear thee} " i. e. affright thee." REED.

4 resolv'd] See note, p. 39.

402 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

To her yourself, sir ; the way's broke before you ;
You have the easier passage.

FOL. Fear not. Come,
Erect thy happy graces in thy look ;
I am no curious wooer,u but, in faith,
I love thee honourably.

COUR. How mean you that, sir ?

FOL. 'S foot, as one loves a woman for a wife.

MOT. Has the gentleman answered you, trow ?v

FOL. I do confess it truly to you both,
My estate is yet but sickly ; but J've a grandsire
Will make me lord of thousands at his death.

MOT. I know your grandsire well ; she knows
him better.

FOL. Why, then, you know no fiction : my state

then
Will be a long day's journey 'bove the waste, wench.

MOT. Nay, daughter, he says true.

FOL. And thou shalt often measure it in thy coach,
And with the wheels' track make a girdle for't.

MOT. Ah, 'twill be a merry journey !

FOL. What, is't a match ? if 't be, clap hands and
lips. [Kisses Courtesan.

MOT. 'Tis done ; there's witness on't.

FOL. Why, then, mother, I salute you.

[Kisses Mother.

MOT. Thanks, sweet son.

Son Follywit, come hither ; if I might counsel thee,
We'll take her e'enw while the good mood's upon

her;
Send for a priest, and clap't up within this hour.

u no curious wooer] For " curious" Dodsley chose to sub
stitute "furious!" and Reed remarks that " curious is pro
bably the genuine reading ; it may mean inquisitive, prying /"
— No curious wooer is, no wooer that uses nice, elegant, elabo
rate phrase. v trow'] See note, p. 26.

w take her e'en} Old eds. " eene take her."

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 403

FOL. By my troth, agreed, mother.

MOT. Nor does her wealth consist all in her flesh,
Though beauty be enough wealth for a woman ;
She brings a dowry of three hundred w with her.

FOL. 'S foot, that will serve [unjtil my grandsire

dies : "

I warrant you he'll drop away at fall a' th' leaf;
If e'erx he reach to All Hollantide/ I'll be hang'd.

MOT. O yes, son, he's a lusty old gentleman.

FOL. Ah, pox, he's given to women ! he keeps
a quean at this present.

MOT. Fie!

FOL. Do not tell my wife on't.

MOT. That were needless, i'faith.

FOL. He makes a great feast upon the eleventh
of this month, Tuesday next, and you shall see
players there — I have one trick more to put upon
him. [_Aside.~\ — My wife and yourself shall go thither
before as my guests, and prove his entertainment :
I'll meet you there at night. The jest will be here ;
that feast which he makes will, unknown to him,
serve fitly for our wedding-dinner : we shall be
royally furnished, and get some charges by't.

MOT. An excellent course, i'faith, and a thrifty !

why, son,
Methinks you begin to thrive before you're married.

FOL. We shall thrive one day, wench, and clipz

enough :
Between our hopes there's but a grandsire's puff.

[Exit.

MOT. So, girl, here was a bird well caught.

COUR. If ever, here :

w hundred] So ed. 1640. First ed. " hundred pound."

x e'er] Old eds. " euer."

y All Hollantide] See note, p. 165.

* clip'} See note, p. 397.

404 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

But what for's grandsire, 'twill scarce please him

well.
MOT. Who covets fruit, ne'er cares from whence

it fell :
Thou'st wedded youth and strength ; and wealth

will fall :
Last, thou'rt made honest.

COUR. And that's worth 'em all. [Exeunt.

ACT V. SCENE I.

A Room in SIR BOUNTEOUS'S House.

Enter SIR BOUNTEOUS :a GUMWATER and Servants
pass over the stage.

JL O

SIR B. Have a care, blue coats. b Bestir yourself,
master Gumwater ; cast an eye into th' kitchen ;
o'erlook the knaves a little. Every Jack has his
friend to-day ; -this cousin,, and that cousin, puts in
for a dish of meat : a man knows not, till he make
a feast, how many varlets he feeds ; acquaintances
swarm in every corner, like flies at Bartholomew-
tide, that come up with drovers ; 's foot, I think
they smell my kitchen seven mile about. —

Enter HAREBRAIN, Mis. HAREBRAIN, and PENITENT
BROTHEL.

Master Harebrain,c and his sweet bedfellow ! you're
very copiously welcome.

* Enter Sir Bounteous, &c.] Old eds. " Enter busilie Sir
Bounteous Progresse for the feast."

b blue coats] See note, p. 26.

c Harebrain] Here, and in the next speech of sir Boun
teous, also in all the prefixes to Harebrain's speeches in the

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 405

HAR. Sir, here's an especial dear friend of ours :
we were bold to make his way to your table.

SIR B. Thanks for that boldness ever, good mas
ter Harebrain : is this your friend, sir ?

HAR. Both my wife's friend and mine, sir.

SIR B. Why, then, compendiously, sir, you're
welcome.

PEN. B. In octavo I thank you, sir.

SIR B. Excellently retorted, i'faith ! he's welcome
for's wit : I have my sorts of salutes, and know
how to place 'em courtly. Walk in, sweet gentle
men, walk in ; there's a good fire i' th' hall ; you
shall have my sweet company instantly.

HAR. Ay, good sir Bounteous.

SIR B. You shall indeed, gentlemen. \_Exeunt
HAREBRAIN, Mis. HAREBRAIN, and PEN. BROTHEL.]

Enter SEMUS.

— How now ? what news brings thee in stumbling
now?

SEM. There are certain players come to town,
sir, and desire to interlude before your worship.

SIR B. Players ? by the mass, they are welcome ;
they'll grace my entertainment well : but for certain
players, there thou liest, boy ; they were never
more uncertain in their lives ; now up, and now
down ; they know not when to play, where to play,
nor what to play : not when to play, for fearful
fools ; where to play, for puritan fools ; nor what
to play, for critical fools. Go, call 'em in. [Exit
SEMUS.] — How fitly the whoresons come upo' th'
feast ! troth, I was e'en wishing for 'em.

following scene, the old eds. have " Shortrod ;" one of the
names which Middleton gave to the character, before he finally
changed it to Harebrain : see note, p. 388.

406 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

Re-enter SEMUS with FOLLYWIT, MAWWORM, HOBOY,
and others, disguised as players.

O welcome, welcome, my friends !

FOL. The month of May delights not in her

flowers
More than we joy in that sweet sight of yours.

SIR B. Well acted, a' my credit ! I perceive he's
your best actor.

SEM. He has greatest share,6 sir, and may live of
himself, sir.

SIR B. What, what ? — Put on your hat, sir, pray,
put on ; go to, wealth must be respected : let those
that have least feathers stand bare. And whose
men are you, I pray ? — nay, keep on your hat still.

FOL. We serve my lord Owemuch, sir.

SIR B. My lord Owemuch ? by my troth, the
welcomest men alive ! give me all your hands at
once ! That honourable gentleman, he lay at my
house in a robbery once, and took all quietly, went
away cheerfully : I made a very good feast for
him : I never saw a man of honour bear things
bravelier away. Serve my lord Owemuch ? wel
come, i'faith ! — Some bastardf for my lord's players !
\_Exit SEMUS, and returns with mne.~] — Where be
yours boys ?

FOL. They come along with the waggon, sir.

SIR B. Good, good ; and which is your politician
amongst you ? now, i'faith, he that works out re
straints, makes best legs at court, and has a suit
made of purpose for the company's business ; which
is he ? come, be not afraid of him.

e share'] See Mr. Collier's remarks " on the payment of
actors," Hist, of Engl. Dram. Poetry, vol. iii. p. 427 : there
were whole sharers, three-quarter sharers, half sharers, &c.

f bastard'] See note, p. 347.

e your] So ed. 1610. First ed. "you."

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 407

FOL. I am he, sir.

SIR B. Art thou he ? give me thy hand. Hark
in thine ear : thou rollest too fast to gather so
much moss as thy fellow there ; champ upon that.
Ah, and what play shall we have, my masters ?

FOL. A pleasant, witty comedy, sir.

SIR B. Ay, ay, ay ; a comedy in any case, that I
and my guests may laugh a little : what's the name
on't?

FOL. Tis called The Slip.

SIR B. The Slip ? by my troth, a pretty name,
and a glib one : go all, and slip into't, as fast as
you can. Cover a table for the players ! First take
heed of -a lurcher ; he cuts deep, he will eat up all
from you. — Some sherry for my lord's players there !
Sirrah, why this will be a true feast, a right Mitreb
supper, a play and all. [Exeunt FOLLYWIT, MAW-
WORM, HO^JDY, and others, with SEMUS.] More
lights !

Enter Mother and Courtesan.

1 called for light ; here come in two are light
enough for a whoje" house, i'faith. Dare the thief
look me i' th' face ? O impudent times ! Go to,
dissetttjale-ft !

Mof. Bless you, sir Bounteous !

SIR B. O welcome, welcome, thief, quean, and
bawd ! ^welcome all thtee !

MOT. Nay, here's but two on's, sir.

SiR'B. 'A niy troth, I took her for a couple ; I'd
have sworn there had been two faces there.

MOT. Not all under one hood, sir.

SIR B. Yes, faith, would I, to see mine eyes bear
double.

h Mitre] See note, p. 240. — In justice to Reed (see note in
the last ed. of Dodsley's Old Plays], I must observe, that my
copy of the first ed. has " Niter."

408 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

MOT. I'll make it hold, sir ; my daughter is a

couple,
She was married yesterday.

SiRB. Buz!1

MOT. Nay, to no buzzard neither ; a right hawk,
Whene'er you know him.

SIR B. Away ! he cannot be but a rascal.
Walk in, walk in, bold guests, that come unsent for !

[Exit Mother.

Pox,J t perceive how my jewels went now,
To grace her marriage. [Aside.

COUR. Would you with me, sir ?

SIR B. Ay ;

How hapt it, wench, you put the slip upon me,
Not three nights since ? I name it gently to you ;
I term it neither pilfer,k cheat, nor shark.

COUR. You're past my reach..

SIR B. I'm old, and past your reach, very good ;
but you will not deny this, I trust.

COUR. With a safe conscience, sir.

SIR B. Yea ? give me thy hand ; fare thee1 well.
— I have done with her.m

COUR. Give me your hand, sir ; you ne'er yet
begun with me. [Exit.

SIR B. Whew, whew ! n O audacious age !
She denies me, and all, when on her fingers
I spied the ruby sit, that does betray her,
And blushes for her fact ! Well, there's a time for't,
For all's too little now for entertainment,

1 Buz] So ed. 1640. First ed. " Buzy."

J Pox} Old eds. " post."

k pilfer] So ed. 1640. First ed. " Gilfer."

1 thee] So ed. 1640. First ed. " him."

m her] So ed. 1640. First ed. " him."

n Whew, whew] So ed. 1640. First ed. " When, when,"
which, after all, may be right, as an exclamation of impatience
for the performance of the play : see notes, vol. i. pp. 289,
361.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 409

Feast, mirth, ay, harmony, and the play to boot ;
A jovial season. —

Re-enter FOLLYWIT.

How now, are you ready ?

FOL. Even upon readiness, sir.

SIR B. Keep you your hat on.

FOL. I have a suit to your worship.

SmB. O, cry you mercy; then you must standbare.

FOL. We could do all to the life of action, sir,
both for the credit of your worship's house, and the
grace of our comedy

SIR B. Cuds me, what else, sir ?

FOL. And for some defects, as the custom is, we
would be bold to require your worship's assistance.

SIR B. Why, with all my heart ; what is't you
want ? speak.

FOL. One's a chain for a justice's hat, sir.

SIR B. Why, here, here, here, here, whoreson ;
will this serve your turn ? [Giving chain.

FOL. Excellent well, sir.n

SIR B. What else lack you ?

FOL. We should use a ring with a stone in't.

SIR B. Nay, whoop, I have given too many rings
already ; talk no more of rings, I pray you : here,
here, here, make this jewel serve for once.

[Giving jewel.

FOL. O this will serve, sir.

SIR B. What, have you all now ?

FOL. All now, sir ; only Time is brought i' th'
middle of the play, and I would desire your wor
ship's watch-time.

SIR B. My watch ? with all my heart; only give
Time a charge, that he be not fiddling with it.

[Giving rvatch.

n FOL. Excellent well, sir'] So ed. 1640. Not in first ed.
VOL. II. N N

410 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

FOL. You shall ne'er see that, sir.

SIR B. Well, now you are furnish'd, sir, make

haste ; away.
FOL. E'en as fast as I can, sir : I'll set my fellows

going first ;

They must have time and leisure, or they're dull
else. [Exit SIR BOUNTEOUS.

I'll stay and speak a prologue, yet o'ertake 'em :
I cannot have conscience, i'faith, to go away,
And ne'er" a word to 'em. My grandsire has given

me

Three shares0 here ; sure I'll do somewhat for 'em.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

A Hall in SIR BOUNTEOUS'S House.

Enter SIR BOUNTEOUS, HAREBRAIN, Mis. HAREBRAIN,
PENITENT BROTHEL, and other guests ; Courtesan
and Mother ; GUMWATER and Servants.

SIR B. More lights, more stools ! sit, sit : the
plays begins.

HAR.P Have you players here, sir Bounteous ?

SIR B. We have 'em for you, sir ; fine nimble
comedians, proper actors most of them.

PEN. B. Whose men, I pray you, sir ?

SIR B. O, there's their credit, sir ! they serve an
honourable popular gentleman, ycleped1* my lord
Owemuch.

HAR. My lord Owemuch ? he was in Ireland
lately.

n and ne'er} So ed. 1640. First ed. " and speake nere."

0 shares'] See note, p. 406.

P Har.~] Old eds. in the prefixes to his speeches throughout
this scene, " Shortrod :" see note, p. 404.

1 ycleped~] i. e. called.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 411

SIR B. O, you ne'er knew any of the name but
were great travellers.

HAR. How is the comedy called, sir Bounteous ?
SIR B. Marry, sir, The Slip.
HAR. The Slip ?

Enter, for Prologue, FOLLYWIT.

SIR B. Ay, and here the prologue begins to slip
in upon's.

HAR. 'Tis so indeed, sir Bounteous.

FOL. We sing of wandering knights, what them be
tide,

Who nor in one place nor one shape abide ;
They're here now, and anon no scouts can reach 'em,
Being every man well hors'd like a bold BeachamJ
The play which we present no fault shall meet
But one ; you'll say 'tis short, we'll say 'tis sweet :
' Tis given much to dumb shews, which some praise ;
And, like the term, delights much in delays.
So to conclude, and give the name her due,
The play being calVd THE SLIP, / vanish too. \_Exit.

SIR B. Excellently well acted, and a nimble con
ceit!

HAR. The prologue's pretty, i'faith.

r like a bold Beachani] As bold as Beauchamp is a pro
verbial expression, said to have originated in the valour of
Thomas, first earl of Warwick of that name, " who (says Ray,
after Fuller), in the year 1346, with one squire and six archers,
fought in hostile manner with an hundred armed men, at
Hogges in Normandy, and overthrew them, slaying sixty Nor
mans, and giving the whole fleet means to land." Proverbs,
p. 219, ed. 1742. — Follywit, however, seems to allude to one
of the characters in a celebrated drama, produced before 16¥00,
called The bold Beauchamps, which is frequently mentioned
by our early writers : it no longer exists. The author of the
false Second Part of Hudibras, 1663, canto 1. (in some lines
quoted by Collier, Hist, of Engl. Dram. Poetry, vol. iii. p. 425),
attributes it to Hey wood ; but his authority is of little weight.

412 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

PEN. B. And went off well.

SIR B. Ay, that's the grace of all, when they go
away well, ah, hah !r

COUR. A' my troth, and3 I were not married, I
could find in my heart to fall in love with that
player now, and send for him to a supper.* I know
some i' th' town that have done as much, and there
took such a good conceit of their parts into th' two
penny room,u that the actors have been found i'
th' morning in a less compass than their stage,
though 'twere ne'er so full of gentlemen.v

SIR B. But, passion of me, where be these
knaves ? will they not come away ? methinks they
stay very long.

PEN. B. O, you must bear a little, sir ; they
have many shifts to run into.

SIR B. Shifts call you 'em ? they're horrible long
things.

Re-enter FOLLY WIT in a fury.

FOL. A pox of such fortune, the plot's betrayed !
all will come out ! yonder they come, taken upon
suspicion, and brought back by a constable. I was

r ah, hah'] So ed. 1640. First ed. " ah."

s and] i. e. if.

* send for him to a supper] " The custom for the prostitutes
at a theatre afterwards to sup with- the players, though not to
invite them home to supper, is alluded to in Field's Amends
for Ladies, 1639 [act iii. sc. 4— first ed. in 1618] : a Drawer
says, ' I have been at Bess Turnup's, and she swears all the
gentlewomen went to see a play at the Fortune, and are not
come in yet ; and she believes they sup with the players.' "
COLLIER.

u two-penny room] Or two-penny gallery : see Collier's Hist.
of Engl. Dram. Poetry, vol. iii. p. 343.

v full of gentlemen'] That it was a common practice for youths
of fashion to sit on stools upon the stage during the perform
ance, is known from many passages of our old literature.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 413

accursed to hold society with such coxcombs !
what's to be done ? I shall be shamed for ever !
My wife here, and all ! ah, pox — by light, happily
thought upon ! the chain. Invention stick to me
this once, and fail me ever hereafter ! so, so —

[4 side.

SIR B. Life, I say, where be these players ? — O,
are you come ? troth, it's time ; I was e'en sending
for you.

HAR. How moodily he walks ! what plays he
trow ?w

SIR B. Ax justice, upon my credit ; I know by the
chain there.

FOL. Unfortunate justice !

SiRB. Ah— a— a—

FOL. In thy kin unfortunate !
Here comes thy nephew now upon suspicion,
Brought by a constable before thee ; his vild?
Associates with him ;

But so disguis'd, none knows him but myself.
Twice have I set him free from officers' fangs,
And for his sake his fellows : let him look to't ;
My conscience will permit but one wink more.

SIR B. Yea, shall we take justice winking?

FOL. For this time

I have bethought a means to work thy freedom,
Though hazarding myself. Should the law seize him,
Being kin to me, 'twould blemish much my name :
No ; I'd rather lean to danger than to shame.

SIR B. A very explete justice !

CON. [within] Thank you, good neighbours ; let
me alone with 'em now.

w trow'] See note, p. 26.

* A] So ed. 1640. First ed. " Ha.'

y vild] See note, p. 393.

414 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

Enter Constable with MAWWORM, HOBOY, and the
rest of FOLLYWIT'S companions.

MAW. 'S foot, who's yonder ?

HOB. Dare he sit there ?

THIRD C. Folly wit !

FOURTH C. Captain! pooh —

FOL. How now, constable ? what news with thee ?

CON. May it please your worship, sir, here are a
company of auspicious fellows.

SIR B. To me ? pooh, turn to th' justice, you
whoreson hobby-horse ! — This is some new player
now ; they put all their fools to the constable's part
still.

FOL. Wharfs the matter, constable ? what's the
matter ?

CON. I have nothing to say to your worship.—
They were all riding a' horseback, an't please your
worship.

SIR B. Yet again ? a pox of all asses still ! they
could not ride a' foot, unless 'twere in a bawdy-
house.

CON. The ostler told me they were all unstable
fellows, sir.

FOL. Why, sure the fellow's drunk ?

MAW. We spied that weakness in him long ago,

sir ;
Your worship must bear with him, the man's much

o'erseen ;

Only in respect of his office we obey'd him.
Both to appear conformable to law,
And clear of all offence ; for I protest, sir,
He found us but a' horseback.

FOL. What, he did ?

MAW. As I have a soul, that's all, and all he
can lay to us.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 415

CON. I'faith, you were not all riding away then ?

MAW. 'S foot, being a' horseback, sir, that must
needs follow.

FOL. Why, true, sir.

SIR B. Well said, justice ! he helps his kinsman
well.

FOL. Why, sirrah, do you use to bring gentlemen
before us for riding away ? what, mill you have 'em
stand still when they're up, like Smug upo th' white
horse yonder ? are your wits steeped ? I II make you
an example for all ditch* constables, how they abuse
justice. — Here, bind him to this chair.

CON. Ha, bind him ? ho !

FOL. If you want cords, use garters.

[MAWWORM, HOBOY, fyc. bind the Constable.

CON. Help, help, gentlemen !

MAW. As fast as we can, sir.

CON. Thieves, thieves !

FOL. A gag will help all this : keep less noise, you
knave.

CON. O help ! rescue the constable ; O, O !

[They gag him.

SIR B. Ho, ho, ho, ho !

FOL. Why, la, you, who lets you? now ?
You may ride quietly ; I'll see you to
Take horse myself, I have, nothing else to do.
[Exeunt FOLLYWIT, MAWWORM, HOBOY, and others.

CON. O, O, O !

SIR B. Ha, ha, ha ! by my troth, the maddest
piece of justice, gentlemen, that ever was committed.

HAR. I'll be sworn for the madness on't, sir.

SIR B. I am deceived, if this prove not a merry
comedy and a witty.

x ditch} i. e. worthless, vile. Ed. 1640 has " an excellent
example for all dizzy constables."
y lets you'] " i. e. hinders you." REED.

416 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

PEN. B. Alas, poor constable ! his mouth's open,
and ne'er a wise word.

SIR B. Faith, he speaks now e'en as many as he
has done ; he seems wisest when he gapes and says
nothing. Ha, ha ! he turns and tells his tale to me
like an ass. What have I to do with their riding
away ? They may ride for me, thou whoreson cox
comb, thou ! nay, thou art well enough served,
i'faith.

PEN. B. But what follows all this while, sir ?
methinks some should pass by before this time, and
pity the constable.

SIR B. By th' mass, and you say true, sir. — Go,
sirrah, step in ; I think they have forgot them
selves ; call the knaves away ; they're in a wood, I
believe. \_Exit Servant.

CON. Ay, ay, ay !

SIR B. Hark, the constable says ay, they're in
a wood : ha, ha !

GUM.Z He thinks long of the time, sir Bounteous.

Re-enter Servant.

SIR B. How now ? when come they ?

SER. Alas, an't please your worship, there's not
one of them to be found, sir !

SIR B. How ?

HAR. What says the fellow ?

SER. Neither horse nor man, sir.

SIR B. Body of me ! thou liest.

SER. Not a hair of either, sir.

HAR. How now, sir Bounteous?

SIR B. Cheated and defeated ! Ungag that ras
cal ; I'll hang him for's fellows ; I'll make him
bring 'em out. \_They ungag Constable.

CON. Did not I tell your worship this before ?
Brought 'em before you for suspected persons ?

z Gum.'] So ed. 1640. First ed. " Nub."

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 417

Stay'd 'em at town's end upon warning given ?
Made signs that my very jaw-bone aches ?z
Your worship would not hear me ; call'd me ass,
Saving your worship's presence, laugh'd at me.

SmB. Ha!

HAR. I begin to taste it.

SIR B. Give me leave, give me leave. Why, art
not thou the constable i' th' comedy?

CON. I' th' comedy ? why, I am the constable
i' th' commonwealth, sir.

SIR B. i'ma gull'd, i'faith, I'm gull'd ! When
wast thou chose ?

CON. On Thursday last, sir.

SIR B. A pox go with't ! there't goes.

PEN. B. I seldom heard jest match it.

HAR. Nor I, i'faith ?

SIR B. Gentlemen, shall I entreat a courtesy ?

HAR. What is't, sir ?

SIR B. Do not laugh at me seven year hence.

PEN. B. We should betray and laugh at our own

folly then,
For, of my troth, none here but was deceiv'd in't.

SIR B. Faith, that's some comfort yet ; ha, ha !
it was featly carried ; troth, I commend their wits ;
before our faces make us asses, while we sit still
and only laugh at ourselves !

PEN. B. Faith, they were some counterfeit rogues,
sir.

SIR B. Why, they confess so much themselves ;
they said they'd play The Slip ;b they should be

z aches'] A dissyllable : see notes, vol. i. pp. 28, 45.

* I'm . . . I'm] Old eds. " I am ... I am." This line
makes a couplet with what follows.

b Faith, they were some counterfeit rogues they said

they'd play The Slip] " We have here a play upon words very
common in our ancient writers, and which will he totally un
intelligible, unless it is remembered that a slip was formerly
the name of a piece of counterfeit money Robert

418 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

men of their words. I hope the justice will have
more conscience, i'faith, than to carry away a chain
of a hundred mark a of that fashion.

HAR. What, sir ?

SIR B. Ay, by my troth, sir ;
Besides a jewel and a jewel's fellow,
A good fair watch, that hung about my neck, sir.

HAR. 'S foot, what did you mean, sir ?

SIR B. Methinks my lord Owemuch's players
should not scorn me so, i'faith ; they will come,
and bring all again, I know; push,b they will,
i'faith ; but a jest, certainly.

Re-enter FOLLYWIT in his own dress, with MAWWORM,
• HOBOY, and others.

FOL. Pray, grandsire, give me your blessing.

SIR B. Who ? son Folly wit ? [Kneeling.

FOL. This shews like kneeling after the play ;c
I praying for my lord Owemuch and his good
countess, our honourable lady and mistress. [Aside.

SIR B. Rise, richer by a blessing ; thou art wel
come.

FOL. Thanks, good grandsire ; I was bold to bring
Those gentlemen, my friends.

SIR B. They're all welcome !

Salute you that side, and I'll welcome this side. —
Sir, to begin with you.

HAR. Master Folly wit!

Greene's Thieves falling out, True Men come by their own : ' And
therefore he went and got him certain slips, which are coun
terfeit pieces of money, being brass, and covered over with
silver, which the common people called slips.' " REED. See
also Gifford's note on Ben Jonson's Works, vol. vi. p. 77.

a mark'] See note, p. 226. b push] See note, vol. i. p. 29.

c kneeling after the play~\ It was formerly the custom for the
players, at the conclusion of the play, to kneel down and pray
for their patrons : the royal companies for the king or queen,
those of noblemen for the particular lord to whom they be
longed.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 419

FOL. I am glad 'tis our fortune so happily to
meet, sir.

SIR B. Nay, then, you know me not, sir.

FOL. Sweet mistress Harebrain !

SIR B. You cannot be too bold, sir.

FOL. Our marriage known ?

COUR. Not a word yet.

FOL. The better.

SIR B. Faith, son, would you had come sooner
with these gentlemen !

FOL. Why, grandsire ?

SIR B. We had a play here.

FOL. A play, sir ? no ?

SIR B. Yes, faith ! a pox a' th' author !

FOL. Bless us all ! why, were they such vildc
ones, sir?

SIR B. I am sure villanous ones, sir.

FOL. Some raw, simple fools !

SIR B. Nay, by th' mass, these were enough for
thievish knaves.

FOL. What, sir ?

SIR B. Which way came you, gentlemen ? you
could not choose but meet 'em.

FOL. We met a company with hampers after 'em.

SIR B. O, those were they, those were they ! A
pox hamper 'em !

FOL. Bless us all again !

SIR B. They have hampered me finely, sirrah.

FOL. How,d sir ?

SIR B. How, sir? I lent the rascals properties6
to furnish out their play, a chain, a jewel, and a
watch ; and they watched their time, and rid quite
away with 'em.

FOL. Are they such creatures ?

e vild~] See note, p. 393.

d How'] So ed. 1640. First ed. " Home."

e properties'] See note, p. 308.

420 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

SIR B. Hark, hark, gentlemen ! by this light,
the watch rings alarum in his pocket ! there's my
watch come again, or the very cousin-german to't :
whose is't, whose is't ? by th' mass, 'tis he ! hast
thou one, son ? prithee, bestow it upon thy grand-
sire ; I now look for mine again, i'faith : nay, come
with a good will, or not at all ; I'll give thee a
better thing. — A prize, a prize,6 gentlemen !

[Draws chain, fyc. out O/FOLLYWIT'S pocket.

HAR. Great or small ?

SIR B. At once I'vef drawn chain, jewel, watch,
and all.

PEN. B. By my faith, you have a fortunate hand,

sir

HAR, Nay, all to come at once !

MAW. A vengeance of this foolery !

FOL. Have I 'scaped the constable to be brought
in by the watch ?

COUR. O destiny! have I married a thief, mother?

MOT. Comfort thyself; thou art beforehand with
him, daughter.

SIR B. Why, son, why, gentlemen, how long have
you been my lord Owemuch his servants, i'faith ?

FOL. Faith, grandsire, shall I be true to you ?

SIR B. I think 'tis time ; thou'st been a thief
already.

FOL. I, knowing the day of your feast, and the
natural inclination you have to pleasure and pas
time, presumed upon your patience for a jest, as
well to prolong your days as

SIR B. Whoop ! why, then, you took my chain
along with you to prolong my days, did you ?

e A prize, a prize] Old eds. " a peece, a peece," which in
Dodsley's Old Plays is altered to " a peace, a peace."

f I've'] Old eds. " I haue." This line is meant to form a
couplet with the conclusion of Sir Bounteous's speech and
Harebrain's question.

A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS. 421

FOL. Not so neither, sir ;
And that you may be seriously assur'd
Of my hereafter stableness of life,
I have took another course.

SiRB. What?

FOL. Took a wife.

SIR B. A wife! 's foot, what is she for a foole
would marry thee, a madman ? when was the wed
ding kept ? in Bedlam ?

FOL. She's both a gentlewoman and a virgin.

SIR B. Stop there, stop there : would I might
see her !

FOL. You have your wish ; she's here.

SIR B. Ah, ha, ha, ha ! this makes amends for
all.

FOL. How now ?

MAW. Captain, do you hear ? is she your wife
in earnest?

FOL. How then ?

MAW. Nothing, but pity you, sir,

SIR B. Speak, son ; is't true ?
Can you gull us, and let a quean gull you?

FOL. Ha!

COUR. What I have been is past ; be that for
given,
And have a soul true both to thee and heaven !

FOL. Is't come about ? tricks are repaid, I see.

SIR B. The best is, sirrah, you pledge none but

me ;

And since I drink the top, take her — and, hark,
I spice the bottom with a thousand mark.f

FOL. By my troth, she is as good a cup of nectar
as any bachelor needs to sip at.

c what is she for a foot] i. e. what fool is she : see Gif-
ford's note on B. Jonson's Works, vol. iii. p. o97.
f mark} See note, p. 226.

VOL. II. O O

422 A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.

Tut, give me gold, it makes amends for vice ;
Maids without coin are caudles without spice.
SIR B. Come, gentlemen, to th' feast ; let not

time waste ;

We'vef pleas'd our ear, now let us please our taste.
Who lives by cunning, mark it, his fate's cast ;
When he has gull'd all, then is himself the last.

[Exeunt omnes.%

The Catch11 for the Fifth Act, sung by SIR BOUN
TEOUS PROGRESS to his guests.

O for a bowl of fat canary,
Rich Aristippus,1 sparkling sherry !
Some nectar else from Juno's dairy ;
O these draughts would make us merry !

O for a wench ! I deal in faces,
And in other daintier things ;
Tickled am I with her embraces ;
Fine dancing in such fairy rings !

O for a plump, fat leg of mutton,
Veal, lamb, capon, pig, and cony !
None is happy but a glutton,
None an ass but who wants money.

Wines, indeed, and girls are good,
But brave victuals feast the blood :
For wenches, wine, and lusty cheer,
Jove would come down to surfeit here.

' We've] Old eds. " We have."

s Exeunt omnes] Ed. 1640 has " Exeunt.

" The end of the fifth and last Act : marching over

the Stage hand in hand."

h The Catch, &c.] Not found in first ed., is printed on the
last leaf of ed. 1640.

1 Aristippus] A sort of wine : see Randolph's drama called
AristippuS) or the Jovial Philosopher) 1635.

THE ROARING GIRL.

The Roaring Girle. Or Moll Cut-Purse. As it hath lately beene
Acted on the Fortune-stage by the Prince his Players. Written
by T. Middleton and T. Dekkar. Printed at London for Thomas
Archer, and are to be sold at his shop in Popes head - pallace ,
neere the Royall Exchange. 1611. 4to. On the title-page is
the woodcut, a fac-simile of which is now given, representing
Moll in her male dress, with these words running along the
inner margin, — " My case is alter' d, I must worke for my
lining."

This drama has been reprinted in the sixth vol. of the last
two editions of Dodsley's Old Plays.

Roaring Boys was a cant term for the riotous, quarrelsome
blades of the time, who abounded in London, and took plea
sure in annoying its quieter inhabitants. Of Roaring Girls,
the heroine of the present play was the choicest specimen.
Her real name was Mary Frith, though she was most com
monly known by that of Moll Cutpurse. According to the
author of her Life,* " she was born A.D. 1589, in Barbican,
at the upper end of Aldersgate Street," p. 3 ; but Malone,b
more correctly it should seem, has fixed her birth in 1584.
" From the first entrance into a competency of age," she
assumed the doublet, " and to her dying day she would
not leave it off, till the infirmity and weaknesse of nature

a The Life and Death of Mrs. Mary Frith. Commonly Called
Mai Cutpurse. Exactly Collected and now Published for the De
light and Recreation of all Merry disposed Persons. London,
1662, 12mo. Prefixed to it is her portrait in a male dress
(with an eagle, a lion, and an ape beside her), under which
are these lines ;

" See here the Presidesse o'th pilfring Trade,
Mercuryes second, Venus's onely Mayd,
Doublet and breeches, in a Un'form dresse,
The Female Humurrist, a Kickshaw messe :
Heres no attraction that your fancy greets,
But if her Features please not, read her Feats."
Of this rare and curious volume a portion at least seems to
be authentic.

b Note on Twelfth Night, act i. sc. 3, — Shakespeare (by Bos-
well), vol. xi. p. 357.

428

had brought her a-bed to her last travail, changed it for a
wastcoat, and her pettycoats for a winding-sheet," Life, p. 18.
She was distinguished in the different characters of bully,
prostitute, procuress, fortune-teller, thief, pickpocket, receiver
of stolen goods, and forger of writings. A letter from John
Chamberlain to Mr. Carleton, dated Feb. 11, 1611-12, gives
the following account of her doing penance : " The last Sun
day Moll Cutpurse, a notorious baggage that used to go in
man's apparel, and challenged the field of diverse gallants,
was brought to the same place [Paul's Cross], where she wept
bitterly, and seemed very penitent ; but it is since doubted
she was maudlin drunk, being discovered to have tippel'd of
three quarts of sack before she came to her penance. She
had the daintiest preacher or ghostly father that ever I saw
in the pulpit, one Radcliffe of Brazen- Nose College in Oxford,
a likelier man to have led the revels in some inn of court,
than to be where he was. But the best is, he did extreme
badly, and so wearied the audience, that the best part went
away, and the rest tarried rather to hear Moll Cutpurse than
him." c With the preceding extract let us compare what the
" fair penitent" is made to say in the Life already quoted:
" Some promooting Apparitor, set on by an adversary of mine,
whom I could never punctually know, cited me to appear in
the Court of the Arches, where was an Accusation exhibited
against me for wearing undecent and manly apparel. I was
advised by my Proctor to demur to the Jurisdiction of the
Court, as for a Crime, if such, not cognizable there or else
where ; but he did it to spin out my Cause, and get my
Mony ; for in the conclusion, I was sentenced there to stand
and do Penance in a White Sheet at Paul's Cross, during
morning Sermon on a Sunday," p. 69.

We are told that she robbed General Fairfax of 250 Ja
cobuses upon Hounslow Heath, shot him through the arm,
and killed two horses on which a couple of his servants rode ;
and that being closely pursued by some Parliamentarian of
ficers quartered at Hounslow, to whom Fairfax told the adven
ture, and her horse failing her at Turnham Green, she was
apprehended and carried to Newgate, after which she was
condemned, but procured her pardon by giving her adver
sary 2000 pounds ! d The story seems to be not a little
exaggerated.

c Note on id., ibid.

d Smith's Lives of Highwaymen, fyc. vol. ii. p. 142, ed. 1719.

429

Nor is the reader bound to believe the subjoined anecdote ;
but, as Moll had a house of her own " within 2 doors of the
Globe Tavern in Fleet Street, over against the Conduit," Life,
p. 47> and appears to have acquired considerable property by
her various rogueries, the circumstance of her supplying the
wine is by no means improbable : " After that unnatural and
detestable Rebellion of the Scots in 1638, upon his Majesties
return home to London, where preparation was made for his
Magnificent Entry, I was also resolved to show my Loyal and
Dutiful Respects to the King in as ample manner as I could or
might be permitted. , . . I was resolved in my own account
to beare a part in the charge of this Solemnity; and therefore
undertook to supply Fleetstreet Conduit adjacent to my House
with Wine, to run continually for that triumphal Day, which
I performed with no less Expence then Credit and delight,
and the satisfaction of all Comers and Spectators. And as
the King passed by me, I put out my Hand and caught Him
by His, and grasped it very hard, saying, Welcome Home
CHARLES ! His Majesty smiled, and I beleeve took me for
some Mad Bold Beatrice or other, while the people shouted
and made a noyse, in part at my Confidence and presumption,
and in part for joy of the King's Return. The rest of that
Day I spent in jollity arid carousing, and concluded the night
with Fireworks and Drink. This celebrated Action of mine,
it being the Town talk, made people look upon me at another
rate then formerly." Life, pp. 95-98.

A dropsy, from which she had long been suffering, and
which, it is said, would probably have carried her off sooner
if she had not indulged greatly in the use of tobacco — (for
she gloried in being the first female smoker) — at List proved
fatal to the Roaring Girl. In the Memoir above cited, she
is represented as bidding adieu to the world " this three
score and fourteenth year of my age," p. 169. A MS.e states
that she died at her house in Fleet Street, July 26, 1659 ; that
she was buried in the church of Saint Bridget's ; and that she
left twenty pounds by will, that the Conduit might run with
wine when King Charles the Second should return. Granger
says/ that her death took place in her 75th year.

She is supposed to be the person alluded to in Shake-

e See a note, signed N., From a MS. in the British Museum,
(what a reference !) in Dodsley's Old Plays, vol. xii. p. 398,
ed. 1780.

f Biog. Hist, of Engl. vol. ii. p. 408, ed. 1775.

430

speare's Twelfth Night, where Sir Toby exclaims, " Wherefore
are these things hid ? wherefore have these gifts a curtain
before them ? are they like to take dust, like mistress Mall's
picture?" Act i. sc. 3.

On the books of the Stationers' Company, August 1610, is
entered " A Booke called the Madde Prancks of Merry Mall
of the Bankside, with her Walks in Man's Apparel, and to
what Purpose. Written by John Day."£

In Jiubbe and A great Cast. Epigrams. By Thomas Freeman,
Gent., 1614, 4to, is

" Epigram 90.

Of Moll Cutpurse disguised going.
" They say Mol's honest, and it may bee so,
But yet it is a shrewd presumption no :
To touch but pitch, 'tis knowne it will defile ;
Moll weares the breech, what may she be the while ?
Sure shee that doth the shadow so much grace,
What will shee when the substance comes in place ? "

She figures in act ii. sc. 1 of Field's Amends for Ladies^ 1618,
where she is thus addressed :

" Hence, lewd impudent !

I know not what to term thee, man or woman,

For Nature, shaming to acknowledge thee

For either, hath produc'd thee to the world

Without a sex : some say thou art a woman,

Others, a man ; and many, thou art both

Woman and man ; but I think rather, neither ;

Or man and horse, as the old Centaurs were feign'd."

In The Water-cormorant his Complaint against a Brood of Land-
cormorants (first printed, I believe, in 1622), Taylor says,
" That if our Grand-fathers and Grand-dams should
Rise from the dead, and these mad times behold,
Amazed they halfe madly would admire
At our fantasticke gestures and attire ;
And they would thinke that England in conclusion
Were a meere bable Babell of confusion ;

s Note on Twelfth Night, act i. sc. 3, — Malone's Shake
speare (by Boswell)*, vol. xi. p. 356.

h This excellent comedy has been reprinted by Mr. Collier
in a supplementary volume to Dodsley's Old Plays.

431

That Muld-sack1 for his most vnfashion'd fashions
Is the fit patterne of their transformations ;
And Mary Frith doth teach them modesty,
For she doth keepe one fashion constantly,
And therefore she deserues a Matrons praise,
In these inconstant Moon-like changing dayes.

p. 6.— Works, ed. 1630.

From The Witch of Edmonton (by W. Rowley, Dekker, and

Ford, acted about 1623), we learn that a certain dog, used in

baiting bulls and bears, was called Moll Cutpurse, after our

heroine : act v. sc. 1. Ford's Works, by Gifford, vol. ii. p. 547.

She is thus mentioned in Brome's Court Beggar, acted 1632 ;

" CIT. Sprecious ! How now ! my fob has been fubd to-day

of six pieces, and a dozen shillings at least My watch

is gone out of my pocket too o' th' right side He go

to honest Moll about it presently." Act ii. sc. 1. Five New
Playes, 1653.

In the following couplet of Butler (the second line of which
Swift has transferred, with a slight alteration, into his Baucis
and Philemon), the allusion is most probably to Moll Cutpurse,
and not, as Grey thinks, to Mary Carlton ;
/' A bold Virago, stout and tall,

As Joan of France, or English Mall"

Hudibras, Part i. c. ii. 367.

With a quotation from a play called The Feigned Astrologer,
1668, I conclude this notice of Mary Frith ;
" We cannot do that neither in quiet,
So many have found his lodging out :
And now, Moll Cut-purse, that oracle of felonie
Is dead, there's not a pocket pickt,
But hee's acquainted with it." Act iv. sc. 2, p. 62.

Thomas Dekker, whose name is coupled with Middleton's
on the title-page of The Roaring Girt, was (as perhaps few
readers require to be told) a very prolific and popular drama
tist : many of his plays have perished.

1 " Mulsack the chimney-sweeper" is mentioned as one of
Moll's companions in her Life, p. 82.

TO THE COMIC PLAY-READERS, VENERY
AND LAUGHTER.

THE fashion of play-making I can properly com
pare to nothing so naturally as the alteration in
apparel ; for in the time of the great crop-doublet,
your huge bombasted plays, quilted with mighty
words to lean purpose, were-* only then in fashion :
and as the doublet fell, neater inventions began to
set up. Now, in the time of spruceness, our plays
follow the niceness of our garments ; single plots,
quaint conceits, lecherous jests, drest up in hanging
sleeves : and those are fit for the times and the
termers. k Such a kind of light-colour summer stuff,
mingled with divers colours, you shall find this
published comedy ; good to keep you in an after
noon from dice at home in your chambers : and for
venery, you shall find enough for sixpence,1 but
well couched andm you mark it ; for Venus, being
a woman, passes through the play in doublet and
breeches ; a brave disguise and a safe one, if the
statute untie not her codpiece point. The book I
make no question but is fit for many of your com
panies, as well as the person itself, and may be

i were} Old ed. " was."

k termers'] Here Reed cites a passage from Dekker's Belman
of London, concerning those rogues that "are called TERMERS
and they ply Westminster -hall : Michaelmas Terme is their har
vest :" see also my note, p. 107. I may observe, however,
that termer did not always mean a person of ill repute : " with
a countrey gentleman or Tearmer." Greene's Ghost Haunting
Conicatchers, 1 626, sig. D 3.

1 for sixpence'] " The price of a play at this time." Id.

m and} i. e. if.

VOL. II. P P

434

allowed both gallery-room at the playhouse, and
chamber-room at your lodging. Worse things, I
must needs confess, the world has taxed her for
than has been written of her ; but 'tis the excel
lency of a writer to leave things better than he
finds 'em ; though some obscene fellow, that cares
not what he writes against others, yet keeps a mys
tical bawdyhouse himself, and entertains drunkards,
to make use of their pockets and vent his private
bottle-ale at midnight, — though such a one would
have ript up the most nasty vice that ever hell
belched forth, and presented it to a modest assembly,
yet we rather wish in such discoveries, where re
putation lies bleeding, a slackness of truth than
fulness of slander.

THOMAS MIDDLETON.

PROLOGUE.

A PLAY expected long makes the audience look
For wonders ; that each scene should be a book,
Compos'd to all perfection : each one comes
And brings a play in's head with him ; up he sums
What he would of a roaring girl have writ ;
If that he finds not here, he mews at it.
Only we [do] entreat you think our scene
Cannot speak high, the subject being but mean ;
A roaring girl, whose notes till now ne'er were,
Shall fill with laughter our vast theatre."
That's all which I dare promise : tragic passion,
And such grave stuff, is this day out of fashion.
I see Attention sets wide ope her gates
Of hearing, and with covetous listening waits,
To know what girl this roaring girl should be,
For of that tribe are many. One is she
That roars at midnight in deep tavern-bowls,
That beats the watch, and constables controls ;
Another roars i' th' daytime, swears, stabs, gives

braves,

Yet sells her soul to the lust of fools and slaves :
Both these are suburb-roarers. Then there's beside0
A civil city-roaring girl, whose pride,
Feasting, and riding, shakes her husband's state,
And leaves him roaring through an iron grate.
None of these roaring girls is ours ; she flies
With wings more lofty ; thus her character lies —
Yet what need characters, when to give a guess
Is better than the person to express ? [name ?

But would you know who 'tis ? would you hear her
She's call'd mad Moll ; her life our acts proclaim.

n vast theatre'] i. e. the Fortune, in Golden or Golding Lane,
St. Giles's, Cripplegate. It was built by Henslowe, and Alleyn
(the founder of Dulwich College), in 1599-1600. It was eighty
feet square on the outside, and fifty-five feet square within.
It was destroyed by fire in 1621. See Collier's Hist, of Engl.
Dram. Poetry, vol. iii. p. 302. ° beside] Old ed. " besides."

DRAMATIS PERSONS.

SIR ALEXANDER WENGRAVE.

SEBASTIAN WENGRAVE, his son.

SIR GUY FITZALLARD.

SIR DAVY DAPPER.

JACK DAPPER, his son.

SIR ADAM APPLETON.

SIR THOMAS LONG.

SIR BEAUTEOUS GANYMEDE.

LORD NOLAND.

GOSHAWK.

LAXTON.

GREENWIT.

GALLIPOT, an apothecary.

TILTYARD, a feather- seller.

OPENWORK, a sempster.

NEATFOOT, Sir A. Wengrave's man.

GULL, page to Jack Dapper.

TRAPDOOR.

TEARCAT.

Coachman.

Porter.

Tailor.

CURTLEAX, a sergeant.

HANGER, his yeoman.

Gentlemen, Cutpurses, fyc.

MOLL, the Roaring Girl.

MARY FITZALLARD, daughter to Sir Guy.

MISTRESS GALLIPOT.

MISTRESS TILTYARD.

MISTRESS OPENWORK.

Scene, LONDON.

THE ROARING GIRL.

ACT I. SCENE I.

A Room in SIR ALEXANDER WENGRAVE'S House.

Enter MARY FITZALLARD disguised like a sempster,
with a case for bands, and NEATFOOT with her, a
napkin on his shoulder, and a trencher? in his hand,
as from table.

NEAT. The young gentleman, our young master,
sir Alexander's son, is it into his ears, sweet dam
sel, emblem of fragility, you desire to have a mes
sage transported, or to be transcendent ?

MARY. A private word or two, sir ; nothing else.

NEAT. You shall fructify in that which you come
for ; your pleasure shall be satisfied to your full
contentation. I will, fairest tree of generation,
watch whejijpjur__^ourig master is erected, that is to
say, up, amTdeliver him to this your most white
hand.

i' a trencher'] " At this time pewter was not introduced
into common use. Our ancestors were content with wooden
trenchers, and these were even to be found at the tables of
our nobility and persons of good fashion. Among the orders
for household servants, devised by John Haryngton, 1566,
and renewed by his son, 1592, it is directed, ' That no man
waite at the table without a trencher in his hand, except it be
uppon good cause, on paine of Id.' Nugae Antiques, vol. ii.
p. 267, ed. 1779. See also the Northumberland Household- Book,
p. 354. Trenchers are still used in some colleges and inns-
of-court, particularly in Lincoln's-Inn." REED.

438 THE ROARING GIRL.

MARY. Thanks, sir.

NEAT. And withal certify him, that I have culled
out for him, now his belly is replenished, a daintier
bit or modicum than any lay upon his trencher at
dinner. Hath he notion of your name, I beseech
your chastity ?

MARY. One, sir, of whom he bespake falling
bands. *

NEAT. Falling bands ? it shall so be given him.
If you please to venture your modesty in the hall
amongst a curl-pated company of rude serving-men,
and take such as they can set before you, you shall
be most seriously and ingeniously1" welcome.

MARY. I have dined8 indeed already, sir.

NEAT. Or will you vouchsafe to kiss the lip of
a cup of rich Orleans in the buttery amongst our
waiting-women ?

MARY. Not now, in truth, sir.

NEAT. Our young master shall then have a feel
ing of your being here ; presently it shall so be
given him.

MARY. I humbly thank you, sir. [Exit NEAT-
FOOT.] But that my bosom
Is full of bitter sorrows, I could smile
To see this formal ape play antic tricks ;
But in my breast a poison'd arrow sticks,

q falling bands] See note, p. 218. — " In Evelyn's Discourse
on Medals, 1697, p. 108, is the head of Charles 1. crowned, in
the garter -robes, and Wearing a falling band; 'which new
mode,' says Mr. Evelyn, ' succeeded the cumbersome ruff: but
neither did the bishops or judges give it over so soon, the
Lord Keeper Finch being, I think, the very first.' " REED.

r ingeniously} i. e. sincerely : ingenious is frequently used
for ingenuous by our old writers : " reasons . . . which, I must
ingeniously confesse, were both many and weighty." Brath-
wait's Honest Ghost, 1658, p. 46.

8 dimd~] Old ed. " dyed."

THE ROARING GIRL. 439

And smiles cannot become me. Love woven slightly,
Such as thy false heart makes, wears out as lightly;
But love being truly bred i' th' soul, like mine,
Bleeds even to death at the least wound it takes, —
The more we quench this [fire], the less it slakes :
O me!

Enter SEBASTIAN WENGRAVE with NEATFOOT.

SEB. A sempster speak with me, sayest thou ?

NEAT. Yes, sir ; she's there, viva voce to deliver
her auricular confession.

SEB. With me, sweetheart ? what is't ?

MARY. I have brought home your bands, sir.

SEB. Bands? — Neatfoot.

NEAT. Sir?

SEB. Prithee, look in ; for all the gentlemen are
upon rising.

NEAT. Yes, sir ; a most methodical attendance
shall be given.

SEB. And dost hear? if my father call for me,
say I am busy with a sempster.

NEAT. Yes, sir; he shall know it that you are
busied with a needle-woman.

SEB. In's ear, good Neatfoot.

NEAT. It shall be so given him. [Exit.

SEB. Bands ? you're mistaken, sweetheart, I be-
spake none :

When, where, I prithee ? what bands ? let me see
them.

MARY. Yes, sir ; a bond* fast seal'd with solemn

oaths,

Subscrib'd unto, as I thought, with your soul ;
Deliver'd as your deed in sight of heaven :
Is this bond cancelled ? have you forgot me ?

* bond~\ Was formerly synonymous with band. See notes,
vol. i. pp. 245, 481.

440 THE ROARING GIRL.

SEE. Ha ! life of my life, sir Guy Fitzallard's

daughter ?

What has transforra'd my love to this strange shape ?
Stay ; make all sure [shuts the door] ; so : now speak

and be brief,

Because the wolf's at door that lies in wait
To prey upon us both. Albeit mine eyes
Are blest by thine,, yet this so strange disguise
Holds me with fear and wonder.
MARY. Mine's a loath'd sight ;
Why from it are you banish'd else so long ?

SEE. I must cut short my speech : in broken

language

Thus much, sweet Moll ; I must thy company shun ;
I court another Moll : my thoughts must run
As a horse runs that's blind round in a mill,
Out every step, yet keeping one path still.

MARY. Umph ! must you shun my company ? in

one knot
Have both our hands by th' hands of heaven been

tied,

Now to be broke ? I thought me once your bride ;
Our fathers did agree on the time when :
And must another bedfellow fill my room ?

SEE. Sweet maid, let's lose no time ; 'tis in

heaven's book
Set down, that I must have thee ; an oath we took
To keep our vows : but when the knight your father
Was from mine parted, storms began to sit
Upon my covetous father's brow[s], which fell
From them on me. He reckon'd up what gold
This marriage would draw from him ; at which he

swore,

To lose so much blood could not grieve him more :
He then dissuades me from thee, call'd thee not fair,
And ask'd what is she but a beggar's heir ?

THE ROARING GIRL. 441

He scorn'd thy dowry of five thousand marks.u

If such a sttmt>f money could be found,

And I wx>uld match with that, he'd not undo it,

Provided his bags might add nothing to it ;

But vow'd, if I took thee, nay, more, did swear it,

Save birth, from him I nothing should inherit.

MARY. What follows then ? my shipwreck ?

SEE. Dearest, no :
Though wildly in a labyrinth I go,
My end is to meet thee : with a side-wind
Must I now sail, else I no haven can find,
But both must sink for ever. There's a wench
Call'd Moll, mad Moll, or merry Moll ; a creature
So strange in quality, a whole city takes
Note of her name and person : all that affection
I owe to thee, on her in counterfeit passion
I spend, to mad my father : he believes
I doat upon this Roaring Girl, and grieves
As it becomes a father for a son
That could be so bewitch'd : yet I'll go on
This crooked way, sigh still for her, feign dreams
In which I'll talk only of her : these streams
Shall, I hope, force my father to consent
That here I anchor, rather than be rent
Upon a rock so dangerous. Art thou pleas'd,
Because thou seest we're waylaid, that I take
A path that's safe, though it be far about ?

MARY. My prayers with heaven guide thee !

SEE. Then I will on :
My father is at hand ; kiss, and begone !
Hours shall be watch'd for meetings : I must now,
As men for fear, to a strange idol bow.

MARY. Farewell !

u marks'] See note, p. 226.

442 THE ROARING GIRL.

SEE. I'll guide thee forth : when next we meet,
A story of Moll shall make our mirth more sweet.

[Exeunt.

Enter SIR ALEX. WENGRAVE, SIR DAVY DAPPER,
SIR ADAM APPLETON, GOSHAWK, LAXTON, and
Gentlemen.

ALL. Thanks, good sir Alexander, for our boun
teous cheer !
S. ALEX. Fie, fie, in giving thanks you pay too

dear.
S. DAVY. When bounty spreads the table, faith,

'twere sin,
At going off if thanks should not step in.

S. ALEX. No more of thanks, no more. Ay,

marry, sir,

Th' inner room was too close : how do you like
This parlour, gentlemen ?
ALL. O, passing well !
S. ADAM. What a sweet breath the air casts here,

so cool !

Gos. I like the prospect best.
LAX. See how 'tis furnish'd !
S. DAVY. A very fair sweet room.
S. ALEX. Sir Davy Dapper,
The furniture that doth adorn this room
Cost many a fair grey groat ere it came here ;
But good things are most cheap when they're most

dear.

Nay, when you look into my galleries,
How bravely they're trimm'd up, you all shall

swear

You're highly pleas'd to see what's set down there :
Stories of men and women, mix'd together
Fair ones with foul, like sunshine in wet weather ;

THE ROARING GIRL. 443

Within one square a thousand heads are laid,
So close that all of heads the room seems made ;
As many faces there, fill'd with blithe looks,
Shew like the promising titles of new books
Writ merrily, the readers being their own eyes,
Which seem to move and to give plaudities ;
And here and there, whilst with obsequious ears
Throng'd heaps do listen, a cut-purse thrusts and

leers
With hawk's eyes for his prey ; I need not shew

him ;
By a hanging, villanous look yourselves may know

him,

The face is drawn so rarely : then, sir, below,
The very floor, as 'twere, waves to and fro,
And, like a floating island, seems to move
Upon a sea bound in with shores above.
ALL. These sights are excellent !
S. ALEX. I'll shew you all :
Since we are met, make our parting comical.

Re-enter SEBASTIAN WENGRAVE with GREENWIT.

SEE. This gentleman, my friend, will take his

leave, sir.

S. ALEX. Ha ! take his leave, Sebastian, who ?
SEE. This gentleman.
S. ALEX. Your love, sir, has already given me

some time,

And if you please to trust my age with more,
It shall pay double interest : good sir, stay.
GREEN. I have been too bold.
S. ALEX. Not so, sir : a merry day
'Mongst friends being spent, is better than gold

sav'd.—

Some wine, some wine ! Where be these knaves I
keep ?

444 THE ROARING GIRL.

Re-enter NEATFOOT with several Servants.

NEAT. At your worshipful elbow, sir.

S. ALEX. You're kissing my maids, drinking, or

fast asleep.

NEAT. Your worship has given it us right.
S. ALEX. You varlets, stir !
Chairs, stools, and cushions ! —

\_Servants bring in wine, and place chairs, fyc.
Prithee, sir Davy Dapper,
Make that chair thine.

S. DAVY. 'Tis but an easy gift ;
And yet I thank you for it, sir : I'll take it.
S. ALEX. A chair for old sir Adam Appleton !
NEAT. A back friend to your worship.
S. ADAM. Marry, good Neatfoot,
I thank thee for't ; back friends sometimes are

good.
S. ALEX. Pray, make that stool your perch, good

master Goshawk.
Gos. I stoop to your lure, sir.
S. ALEX. Son Sebastian,
Take master Greenwit to you.
SEE. Sit, dear friend.
S. ALEX. Nay, master Laxton — furnish master

Laxton

With what he wants, a stone, — a stool, I would say,
A stool.

LAX. I had rather stand, sir.
S. ALEX. I know you had, good master Laxton :
so, so. [Exeunt NEATFOOT and Servants.

Now here's a mess of friends ; and, gentlemen,
Because time's glass shall not be running long,
I'll quicken it with a pretty tale.
S. DAVY. Good tales do well
In these bad days, where vice does so excel.

THE ROARING GIRL. 445

S. ADAM. Begin, sir Alexander.

S. ALEX. Last day I met
An aged man, upon whose head was scor'd
A debt of just so many years as these
Which I owe to my grave : the man you all know.

ALL. His name, I pray you, sir.

S. ALEX. Nay, you shall pardon me :
But when he saw me, with a sigh that brake,
Or seem'd to break, his heart-strings, thus he spake :
O my good knight, says he, (and then his eyes
Were richer even by that which made them poor,
They'd spent so many tears they had no more),

0 sir, says he, you know it ! for you ha' seen
Blessings to rain upon mine house and me :
Fortune, who slaves men, was my slave ; her wheel
Hath spun me golden threads ; for, I thank heaven,

1 ne'er had but one cause to curse my stars.

I ask'd him then what that one cause might be.

ALL. So, sir.

S. ALEX. He paus'd : and as we often see
A sea so much becalm'd, there can be found
No wrinkle on his brow, his waves being drown'd
In their own rage ; but when th' imperious wind[s]
Use strange invisible tyranny to shake
Both heaven's and earth's foundation at their noise,
The seas, swelling with wrath to part that fray,
Rise up, and are more wild, more mad than they ;
Even so this good old man was by my question
Stirr'd up to roughness ; you might see his gall
Flow even in's eyes ; then grew he fantastical.

S. DAVY. Fantastical ? ha, ha !

S. ALEX. Yes ; and talk['d] oddly.

S. ADAM. Pray, sir, proceed :
How did this old man end ?

S. ALEX. Marry, sir, thus :

VOL. II. Q Q

446 THE ROARING GIRL.

He left his wild fit to read o'er his cards ;
Yet then, though age cast snow on all his hairs,
He joy'd, because, says he, the god of gold
Has been to me no niggard ; that disease,
Of which all old men sicken, avarice,
Never infected me

LAX. He means not himself, I'm sure. [Aside.

S. ALEX. For, like a lamp
Fed with continual oil, I spend and throw
My light to all that need it, yet have still
Enough to serve myself: O but, quoth he,
Though heaven's dew fall thus on this aged tree,
I have a son that,x like a wedge, doth cleave
My very heart-root !

S. DAVY. Had he such a son ?

SEE. Now I do smell a fox strongly. \As\de.

S. ALEX. Let's see : no, master Greenwit is not

yet

So mellow in years as he ; but as like Sebastian,
Just like my son Sebastian, such another.

SEE. How finely, like a fencer,
My father fetches his by-blows to hit me !
But if I beat you not at your own weapon
Of subtil ty — {Aside.

S. ALEX. This son, saith he, that should be
The column and main arch unto my house,
The crutch unto my age, becomes a whirlwind
Shaking the firm foundation.

S. ADAM. 'Tis some prodigal.

SEB. Well shot, old Adam Bell !? {Aside.

x that] Old ed. " that's."

y Adam Bell] An outlaw, famous for his archery : see the
beautiful ballad of Adam Bel, Clym of the Cloughe and Wyllyam
of Cloudesle, of which the most correct text is in Ritson's
Pieces of An. Pop. Poetry.

THE ROARING GIRL. 447

S. ALEX. No city-monster neither, no prodigal,
But sparing, wary, civil, and, though wifeless,
An excellent husband ; and such a traveller,
He has more tongues in his head than some have
teeth.

S. DAVY. I have but two in mine.

Gos. So sparing and so wary ?
What, then, could vex his father so ?

S. ALEX. O, a woman !

SEE. A flesh-fly, that can vex any man.

S. ALEX. A scurvy woman,

On whom the passionate old man swore he doated ;
A creature, saith he, nature hath brought forth
To mock the sex of woman. It is a thing
One knows not how to name : her birth began
Ere she was all made : 'tis woman more than man,
Man more than woman ; and, which to none can hap,
The sun gives her two shadows to one shape ;
Nay, more, let this strange thing walk, stand, or sit,
No blazing star draws more eyes after it.

S. DAVY. A monster ! 'tis some monster !

S. ALEX. She's a varlet.

SEE. Now is my cue to bristle. [Aside.

S. ALEX. A naughty pack.2

SEE. 'Tis false !

S. ALEX. Ha, boy?

SEE. 'Tis false !

S. ALEX. What's false ? I say she's naught.

SEE. I say, that tongue

That dares speak so, but yours, sticks in the throat
Of a rank villain : set yourself aside

z naughty pack~\ In a note on this passage Reed says, " a
pack was formerly a name given to a lewd woman," and that
" it was also sometimes applied to the male sex." The fact
is, naughty pack was a term of reproach applied commonly
both to men and women.

448 THE ROARING GIRL.

S. ALEX. So, sir, what then ?

SEE. Any here else had lied. —
I think I shall fit you. [Aside.

S. ALEX. Lie?

SEE. Yes.

S. DAVY. Doth this concern him ?

S. ALEX. Ah, sirrah-boy,

Is your blood heated ? boils it ? are you stung ?
I'll pierce you deeper yet. — O my dear friends,
I am that wretched father ! this that son,
That sees his ruin, yet headlong on doth run.

S.-AoAM. Will you love such a poison?

S. DAVY. Fie, fie.

SEE. You're all mad.

S. ALEX. Thou'rt sick at heart, yet feel'st it not :

of all these,

What gentleman but thou, knowing his disease
Mortal, would shun the cure! — O master Green-
wit,
Would you to such an idol bow ?

GREEN. Not I, sir.

S. ALEX. Here's master Laxton ; has he mind

to a woman
As thou hast?

LAX. No, not I, sir.

S. ALEX. Sir, I know it.

LAX. Their good parts are so rare, their bad so

common,
I will have nought to do with any woman.

S. DAVY. 'Tis well done, master Laxton.

S. ALEX. O thou cruel boy,

Thou wouldst with lust an old man's life destroy !
Because thou see'st I'm half-way in my grave,
Thou shovel'st dust upon me : would thou might'st

have
Thy wish, most wicked, most unnatural !

THE ROARING GIRL. 449

S. DAVY. Why, sir, 'tis thought sir Guy Fitz-

allard's daughter
Shall wed your son Sebastian.

S. ALEX. Sir Davy Dapper,
I have upon my knees woo'd this fond2 boy
To take that virtuous maiden.

SEE. Hark you ; a word, sir.
You on your knees have curs'd that virtuous

maiden,

And me for loving her ; yet do you now
Thus baffle a me to my face : wear not your knees
In such entreats ; give me Fitzallard's daughter.

S. ALEX. I'll give thee rats-bane rather.

SEB. Well, then, you know
What dish I mean to feed upon.

S. ALEX. Hark, gentlemen ! he swears
To have this cut-purse drab, to spite my gall.

ALL. Master Sebastian

SEB. I am deaf to you all.
I'm so bewitch'd, so bound to my desires,
Tears, prayers, threats, nothing can quench out

those fires
That burn within me. [Exit.

S. ALEX. Her blood shall quench it, then.-

Lose him not ; O dissuade him, gentlemen !
S. DAVY. He shall be wean'd, I warrant you.

* fond~] i. e. foolish.

a baffle] Meant formerly to treat with insult, or mockery,
or contempt. " Our names should be baffuld on euery booke-
sellers stall." Nash's Pierce Pennilesse, sig, D 4, ed. 1595.
" When he had baffuld mee in print throughout England."
Nash's Haue with you to Saffron-walden, sig T 2, 1596.
" Prithee, good Fido, goe and baffull him :
Put an affront vpon him."

Marmyon's Fine Companion, sig. F, 1633.

450 THE ROARING GIRL.

S. ALEX. Before his eyes
Lay down his shame, my grief, his miseries.

ALL. No more, no more ; away !

[Exeunt all but SIR ALEX. WENGRAVE.

S. ALEX. I wash a negro,

Losing both pains and cost : but take thy flight,
I'll be most near thee when I'm least in sight.
Wild buck, I'll hunt thee breathless : thou shalt

run on,
But I will turn thee when I'm not thought upon. —

Enter TRAPDOOR with a letter.

Now, sirrah, what are you ? leave your ape's tricks,
and speak.

TRAP. A letter from my captain to your worship.

S. ALEX. O, O, now I remember ; 'tis to prefer
thee into my service.

TRAP. To be a shifter under your worship's nose
of a clean trencher, when there's a good bit upon't.

S. ALEX. Troth, honest fellow — Hum — ha — let

me see —

This knave shall be the axe to hew that down
At which I stumble ; has a face that promiseth
Much of a villain : I will grind his wit,
And, if the edge prove fine, make use of it. [Aside.
Come hither, sirrah : canst thou be secret, ha ?

TRAP. As two crafty attorneys plotting the un
doing of their clients.

S. ALEX. Didst never, as thou'st walk'd about

this town,
Hear of a wench call'd Moll, mad, merry Moll ?

TRAP. Moll Cutpurse, sir?

S. ALEX. The same ; dost thou know her, then ?

TRAP. As well as I know 'twill rain upon Simon
and Jude's day next : I will sift all the taverns
i' th' city, and drink half pots with all the water-

THE ROARING GIRL. 451

menb a' th' Bank-side, but, if you will, sir, I'll find
her out.

S. ALEX. That task is easy ; do't then : hold thy

hand up.
What's this ? is't burnt ?

TRAP. No, sir, no ; a little singed with making
fireworks.

S. ALEX. There's money, spend it ; that being
spent, fetch more. [Gives money.

TRAP. O sir, that all the poor soldiers in Eng
land had such a leader ! For fetching, no water-
spaniel is like me.

S. ALEX. This wench we speak of strays so from

her kind,

Nature repents she made her : 'tis a mermaid
Has tol'd my son to shipwreck.

TRAP. I'll cut her comb for you.

S. ALEX. I'll tell out gold for thee, then. Hunt

her forth,

Cast out a line hung full of silver hooks
To catch her to thy company : deep spendings
May draw her that's most chaste to a man's bosom.

TRAP. The gingling of golden bells, and a good
fool with a hobbyhorse, will draw all the whores
i' th' town to darice in a morris.

S. ALEX. Or rather, for that's best (they say

sometimes
She goes in breeches), follow her as her man.

TRAP. And when her breeches are off, she shall
follow me.

S. ALEX. Beat all thy brains to serve her.

TRAP. Zounds, sir, as country wenches beat
cream till butter comes.

b watermen] "Taylor the water- poet asserts, that at this
time, between Windsor and Gravesend, there were not fewer
than forty thousand watermen." REED.

452 THE ROARING GIRL.

S. ALEX. Play thou the subtle spider ; weave

fine nets
To ensnare her very life.

TRAP. Her life?

S. ALEX. Yes ; suck

Her heart-blood, if thou canst : twist thou but cords
To catch her, I'll find law to hang her up.

TRAP. Spoke like a worshipful bencher !

S. ALEX. Trace all her steps : at this she-fox's

den

Watch what lambs enter ; let me play the shepherd
To save their throats from bleeding, and cut hers.

TRAP. This is the gollc shall do't.

S. ALEX. Be firm, and gain me
Ever thine own : this done, I entertain thee.
How is thy name ?

TRAP. My name, sir, is Ralph Trapdoor, honest
Ralph.

S. ALEX. Trapdoor, be like thy name, a dan
gerous step
For her to venture on ; but unto me

TRAP. As fast as your sole to your boot or shoe,
sir.

S. ALEX. Hence, then ; be little seen here as

thou canst ;
I'll still be at thine elbow.

TRAP. The trapdoor's set.
Moll, if you budge, you're gone : this me shall

crown ;
A roaring boyd the roaring girl puts down.

S. ALEX. God-a-mercy, lose no time. \_Exeunt*

c golf] A cant term for hand — fist, paw.
d roaring loy\ See prefatory matter, p. 427.

THE ROARING GIRL. 453

ACT II. SCENE I.

Three shops open in a rank : the first an apothecary's
shop, the next a feather-shop, the third a semester's
shop ; MISTRESS GALLIPOT in the first, MISTRESS
TILTYARD in the next, OPENWORK and MISTRESS
OPENWORK in the third.

Enter LAXTON, GOSHAWK, and GREENWIT.

Mis. OPEN. Gentlemen, what is't you lack ? d
what is't you buy? see fine bands and ruffs, fine
lawns, fine cambrics : what is't you lack, gentle
men ? what is't you buy ?

LAX. Yonder's the shop.

Gos. Is that she ?

LAX. Peace.

GREEN. She that minces tobacco?6

LAX. Ay ; she's a gentlewoman born, I can tell
you, though it be her hard fortune now to shred
Indian pot-herbs.

Gos. O sir, 'tis many a good woman's fortune,
when her husband turns bankrout/ to begin with
pipes and set up again.

LAX. And, indeed, the raising of the woman is
the lifting up of the man's head at all times ; if one
flourish, t'other will bud as fast, I warrant ye.

Gos. Come, thou'rt familiarly acquainted there,
I grope that.

A what is't you lack'] See note, vol. i. p. 447.
e minces tobacco'] When this play was written tobacco was
sold by apothecaries :

" Or in th' Apothicaryes shop bee seene
To wrap Druggs, or to dry Tobacco in."

Certain Elegies, with \_Fitz Geffrey's'] Satyrs

and Epigrams, 1620, sig. G 4.
i bankrout] i. e. bankrupt.

454 THE ROARING GIRL.

LAX. Andg you grope no better i' th' dark, you
may chance lie i' th' ditch when you're drunk.

Gos. Go, thou'rt a mystical lecher !

LAX. I will not deny but my credit may take up
an ounce of pure smoke.

Gos. May take up an ell of pure smock ! away,
go! Tis the closest striker!11 life, I think he
commits venery forty foot deep ; no man's aware
on't. I, like a palpable smockster, go to work so
openly with the tricks of art, that I'm as apparently
seen as a naked boy in a phial ; * and were it not
for a gift of treachery that I have in me, to betray
my friend when he puts most trust in me — mass,
yonder he is too ! — and by his injury to make good
my access to her, I should appear as defective in
courting as a farmer's son the first day of his fea
ther, that doth nothing at court but woo the hang
ings and glass windows for a month together, and
some broken waiting-woman for ever after. I find
those imperfections in my venery, that were't not
for flattery and falsehood, I should want discourse
and impudence ; and he that wants impudence
among women is worthy to be kicked out at bed's
feet. He shall not see me yet. [Aside.

GREEN. Troth, this is finely shred.

LAX. O, women are the best mincers.

Mis. G. Thad been a good phrase for a cook's
wife, sir.

LAX. But 'twill serve generally, like the front of
a new almanac, as thus: — calculated for the me
ridian of cooks' wives, but generally for all English
women.

£ and~\ i. e. if. h striker'] i. e. wencher.

1 as a naked boy in a phial] " I suppose he means an abor
tion preserved in spirits." STEEVENS.

THE ROARING GIRL. 455

Mis. G. Nay, you shall ha't, sir ; I have filled it
for you. \_She puts it to the fire.

LAX. The pipe's in a good hand, and I wish
mine always so.

GREEN. But not to be used a' that fashion.

LAX. O, pardon me, sir, I understand no French.
I pray, be covered. Jack, a pipe of rich smoke !

Gos. Rich smoke ? that's sixpence a pipe, is't ?

GREEN. To me, sweet lady.

Mis. G. Be not forgetful ; respect my credit ;
seem strange : art and wit makeJ a fool of sus
picion ; pray, be wary.

LAX. Push ! k I warrant you. — Come, how is't,
gallants ?

GREEN. Pure and excellent.

LAX. I thought 'twas good, you were grown so
silent : you are like those that love not to talk at
victuals, though they make a worse noise i' th' nose
than a common fiddler's 'prentice, and discourse a
whole supper with snuffling. — I must speak a word
with you anon.

Mis. G. Make your way wisely, then.

Gos. O, what else, sir? he's perfection itself;
full of manners, but not an acre of ground belong
ing to 'em.

GREEN. Ay, and full of form ; has ne'er a good
stool in's chamber.

Gos. But above all, religious ; he preyeth daily
upon elder brothers.

GREEN. And valiant above measure ; has run
three streets from a sergeant.

LAX. Puh, puh. [He blows tobacco in their faces.

GREEN. O, puh !

Gos. Ho, ho !

LAX. So, so.

J make] Old ed. " makes." k Push] See note, vol. i. p. 29.

456 THE ROARING GIRL.

Mis. G. What's the matter now, sir ?

LAX. I protest I'm in extreme want of money;
if you can supply me now with any means, you do
me the greatest pleasure, next to the bounty of
your love, as ever poor gentleman tasted.

Mis. G. What's the sum would pleasure ye, sir ?
though you deserve nothing less at my hands.

LAX. Why, 'tis but for want of opportunity, thou
knowest. — I put her off with opportunity still : by
this light, I hate her, but for means to keep me in
fashion with gallants ; for what I take from her, I
spend upon other wenches ; bear her in handk still :
she has wit enough to rob her husband, and I ways
enough to consume the money. [Aside.^\ — Why,
how now ? what, the chincough ?

Gos. Thou hast the cowardliest trick to come
before a man's face, and strangle him ere he be
aware ! I could find in my heart to make a quarrel
in earnest.

LAX. Pox, and1 thou dost — thou knowest I never
use to fight with my friends — thou'll but lose thy
labour in't. — Jack Dapper !

Enter JACK DAPPER and GULL.

GREEN. Monsieur Dapper, I dive down to your
ancles.

J. DAP. Save ye, gentlemen, all three in a pecu
liar salute.

Gos. He were ill to make a lawyer ; he despatches
three at once.

LAX. So, well said. — But is thism of the same
tobacco, mistress Gallipot?

k bear her in hand! i. e. keep her in expectation.

1 and-] i. e. if.

m But is this, fyc.~\ " She gives him money, and he pre
tends that he receives only tobacco from Mrs. Gallipot."
COLLIER.

THE ROARING GIRL. 457

Mis. G. The same you had at first, sir.

LAX. I wish it no better : this will serve to
drink" at my chamber.

Gos. Shall we taste a pipe on't ?

LAX. Not of this, by my troth, gentlemen, I have
sworn before you.

Gos. What, not Jack Dapper ?

LAX. Pardon me, sweet Jack; I'm sorry I made
such a rash oath, but foolish oaths must stand :
where art going, Jack ?

J. DAP. Faith, to buy one feather.

LAX. One feather ? the fool's peculiar still.

[Aside.

J. DAP. Gull.

GULL. Master?

J. DAP. Here's three halfpence for your ordinary,
boy ; meet me an hour hence in Paul's.0

GULL. How ? three single halfpence ? life, this
will scarce serve a man in sauce, a halp'orth of
mustard, a halp'orth of oil, and a halp'orth of vine
gar, — what's left then for the pickle herring ? This
shews like small beer i' th' morning after a great
surfeit of wine o'ernight : he could spend his
three pound last night in a supper amongst girls
and brave bawdyhouse boys : I thought his pockets
cackled not for nothing : these are the eggs of three
pound, I'll go sup 'em up presently.

\_Aside, and exit.

LAX. Eight, nine, ten angels : P good wench,
i'faith, and one that loves darkness well ; she puts
out a candle with the best tricks of any drugster's
wife in England : but that which mads her, I rail

n drink] To drink (i. e. smoke) tobacco was a very common
expression.

0 Paul's] See note, vol. i. p. 418.
P angels] See note, vol. i. p. 250.
VOL. II. R R

458 THE ROARING GIRL.

upon opportunity still, and take no notice on't. The
other night she would needs lead me into a room
with a candle in her hand to shew me a naked pic
ture, where no sooner entered, but the candle was
sent of an errand : now, I not intending to under
stand her, but, like a puny at the inns of venery,
called for another light innocently ; thus reward I
all her cunning with simple mistaking. I know she
cozens her husband to keep me, and I'll keep her
honest as long as I can, to make the poor man some
part of amends. An honest mind of a whoremaster!
how think you amongst you ? What, a fresh pipe ?
draw in a third man ?

Gos. No, you're a hoarder, you engross by th'
ounces. [At the feather -shop.

J. DAP. Pooh, I like it not.

Mis. T. What feather is't you'd have, sir ?
These are most worn and most in fashion :
Amongst the beaver gallants, the stone riders,
The private stage's audience, the twelvepenny-stool

gentlemen,*!
I can inform you 'tis the general feather.

J. DAP. And therefore I mislike it : tell me of

general !

Now, a continual Simon and Jude's rain
Beat all your feathers as flat down as pancakes !
Shew me — a — spangled feather.

i the twelvepenny-stool gentlemen'] i. e. gentlemen who pay
twelvepence for a stool to sit upon the stage during the per
formance : see note, p. 412. This is one of the passages
which led Malone to think that " persons were suffered to sit
on the stage only in the private playhouses (such as Black-
friars, &c.)" Hist. Ace. of Engl. Stage, p. 78 — Shakespeare (by
Boswell), vol. iii. : but Mr. Collier has shewn that the prac
tice was not confined to private theatres : Hist, of Engl. Dr.
Poetry, vol. iii. p. 352.

THE ROARING GIRL. 459

Mis. T. O, to go a-feasting with ;
You'd have it for a hench-boy,r you shall.

\_At the sempster's shop.

OPEN. Mass, I had quite forgot !
His honour's footman was here last night, wife ;
Ha' you done with my lord's shirt?

Mis. O. What's that to you, sir ?
I was this morning at his honour's lodging,
Ere such a snake as you crept out of your shell.

OPEN. O, 'twas well done, good wife !

Mis. O. I hold it better, sir,
Than if you had done't yourself.

OPEN. Nay, so say I :
But is the countess's smock almost done, mouse ?8

Mis. O. Here lies the cambric, sir ; but wants, I
fear me.

OPEN. I'll resolve* you of that presently.

Mis. O. Heyday! O audacious groom!
Dare you presume to noble women's linen ?
Keep you your yard to measure shepherds' holland :
I must confine you, I see that.

\At the tobacco-shop.

Gos. What say you to this gear?u

LAX. I dare the arrant'st critic in tobacco
To lay one fault upon't.

Enter MOLL in a frieze jerkin and a black saveguard.v

Gos. Life, yonder's Moll !

LAX. Moll! which Moll?

Gos. Honest Moll.

LAX. Prithee, let's call her. — Moll !

r hencli-boy] i. e. page. s mouse'] See note, p. 137.

1 resolve] i. e. satisfy. u gear] i. e. stuff.

v saveguard~] i. e., properly, a sort of large petticoat, worn
by women over the other clothes, to protect them from
soiling.

460 THE ROARING GIRL.

Gos. Moll, Moll !

GREEN. Pist, Moll!w

MOLL. How now ? what's the matter ?

Gos. A pipe of good tobacco, Moll ?

MOLL. I cannot stay.

Gos. Nay, Moll, pooh, prithee, hark ; but one
word, i'faith.

MOLL. Well, what is't ?

GREEN. Prithee, come hither, sirrah.

LAX. Heart, I would give but too much money
to be nibbling with that wench ! life, sh'as the
spirit of four great parishes, and a voice that will
drown all the city ! Methinks a brave captain might
get all his soldiers upon her, and ne'er be behold-
ingx to a company of Mile-end milksops, if he could
come on and come off quick enough : such a Moll
were a marrow-bone before an Italian ; he would
cry buona roba? till his ribs were nothing but bone.
I'll lay hard siege to her : money is that aquafortis
that eats into many a maidenhead ; where the walls
are flesh and blood, I'll ever pierce through with
a golden augre. [Aside.

Gos. Now, thy judgment, Moll ? is't not good ?

MOLL. Yes, faith, 'tis very good tobacco. — How
do you sell an ounce ? — Farewell. — God b'i' you,
mistress Gallipot.

Gos. Why, Moll, Moll !

MOLL. I cannot stay now, i'faith : I am going to
buy a shag-ruff; the shop will be shut in presently.

Gos. Tis the maddest fantasticalest girl ! I never
knew so much flesh and so much nimbleness put
together.

w Gos. Moll, Moll! ~| One speech in old ed., with the

GREEN. Pist, Moll ! J prefix " AIL" — The exclamation

" pist" again occurs at p. 468. I unnecessarily altered it into

" hist" at p. 268. x beholding'] See note, vol. i. p. 441.

y buona roba] See note, vol. i. p. 258.

THE ROARING GIRL. 461

LAX. She slips from one company to another,
like a fat eel between a Dutchman's fingers. — I'll
watch my time for her. [Aside.

Mis. G. Some will not stick to say she is a man,
And some, both man and woman.

LAX. That were excellent: she might first cuckold
the husband, and then make him do as much for
the wife. [At the feather -shop.

MOLL. Save you ; how does mistress Tiltyard ?

J. DAP. Moll !

MOLL. Jack Dapper !

J. DAP. How dost, Moll ?

MOLL. I'll tell thee by and by ; I go but to th'
next shop.

J. DAP. Thou shalt find me here this hour about
a feather.

MOLL. Nay, and2 a feather hold you in play a
whole hour, a goose will last you all the days of
your life. — Let me see a good shag-ruff.

[_At the sempster's shop.

OPEN. Mistress Mary, that shalt thou, i'faith, and
the best in the shop.

Mis. O. How now ? greetings ! love-terms, with
a pox, between you ! have I found out one of your
haunts ? I send you for hollands, and you're i' th'
low countries, with a mischief. I'm served with
good ware by th' shift ; that makes it lie dead so
long upon my hands : I were as good shut up shop,
for when I open it I take nothing.

OPEN. Nay, and you fall a -ringing once, the
devil cannot stop you. — I'll out of the belfry as fast
as I can, Moll. [Retires.

Mis. O. Get you from my shop !

MOLL. I come to buy.

* and} i. e, if.

462 THE ROARING GIRL.

Mis. O. I'll sell ye nothing ; I warn ye my house
and shop.

MOLL. You, goody Openwork, you that prick out

a poor living,

And sewx many a bawdy skin-coat together ;
Thou private pandress between shirt and smock;
I wish thee for a minute but a man,
Thou shouldst ne'er use more shapes ; but as thou

art,

I pity my revenge. Now my spleen's up,
I would not mock it willingly. —

Enter a Fellow, with a long rapier by his side.

Ha ! be thankful ;
Now I forgive thee.

Mis. O. Marry, hang thee, I never asked for
giveness in my life.

MOLL. You,, goodman swine's face !

FEL. What, will you murder me ?

MOLL. You remember, slave, how you abused
me t'other night in a tavern.

FEL. Not I, by this light !

MOLL. No, but by candle-light you did : you
have tricks to save your oaths ; reservations have
you ? and I have reserved somewhat for you
[strikes him]. As you like that, call for more ;
you know the sign again.

FEL. Pox on't, had I brought any company along
writh me to have borne witness on't, 'twould ne'er
have grieved me ; but to be struck and nobody by,
'tis my ill fortune still. Why, tread upon a worm,
they say 'twill turn tail ; but indeed a gentleman
should have more manners. [Aside, and exit.

LAX. Gallantly performed, i'faith, Moll, and man
fully ! I love thee for ever for't : base rogue, had

* sew} Old ed. " sowes."

THE ROARING GIRL. 463

he offered but the least counter-buff, by this hand,
I was prepared for him !

MOLL. You prepared for him? why should you be
prepared for him ? was he any more than a man ?

LAX. No, nor so much by a yard and a handful,
London measure.

MOLL. Why do you speak this then ? do you
think I cannot ride a stone-horse, unless one lead
him by th' snaffle ?

LAX. Yes, and sit him bravely ; I know thou
canst, Moll : 'twas but an honest mistake through
love, and I'll make amends for't any way. Prithee,
sweet, plump Moll, when shall thou and I go out a'
town together ?

MOLL. Whither ? to Tyburn, prithee ?

LAX. Mass, that's out a' town indeed : thou
hangest so many jests upon thy friends still ! I
mean honestly to Brainford/ Staines, or Ware.

MOLL. What to do there ?

LAX. Nothing but be merry and lie together : I'll
hire a coach with four horses.

MOLL. I thought 'twould be a beastly journey.
You may leave out one well ; three horses will
serve, if I play the jade myself.

LAX. Nay, push,2 thou'rt such another kicking
wench ! Prithee, be kind, and let's meet.

MOLL. 'Tis hard but we shall meet, sir.

LAX. Nay, but appoint the place then ; there's
ten angels a in fair gold, Moll : you see I do not
trifle with you ; do but say thou wilt meet me, and
I'll have a coach ready for thee.

MOLL. Why, here's my hand, I'll meet you, sir.

LAX. O good gold ! [Aside j\— -The place, sweet
Moll?

y Brainford ] The old form of Brentford.
z push] See note, vol. i. p. 29.
a angels'] See note, vol. i. p. 250.

464 THE ROARING GIRL.

MOLL. It shall be your appointment.

LAX. Somewhat near Holborn, Moll.

MOLL. In Gray's-Inn-Fields then.

LAX. A match.

MOLL. I'll meet you there.

LAX. The hour ?

MOLL. Three.

LAX. That will be time enough to sup at Brain-
ford.

OPEN. I am of such a nature, sir, I cannot en
dure the house when she scolds : sh'as a tongue
will be heard further in a still morning than Saint
Antling's bell. b She rails upon me for foreign
wenching, that I being a freeman must needs keep
a whore i' th' suburbs, and seek to impoverish the
liberties. When we fall out, I trouble you still to
make all whole with my wife.

Gos. No trouble at all ; 'tis a pleasure to me to
join things together.

OPEN. Go thy ways, I do this but to try thy
honesty, Goshawk. [Aside.'] [At the feather- shop.

J. DAP. How likest thou this, Moll ?

MOLL. O, singularly ; you're fitted now for a
bunch. — He looks for all the world, with those
spangled feathers, like a nobleman's bed-post. The
purity of your wench would I fain try ; she seems
like Kent unconquered, and, I believe, as many
wiles are in her. O, the gallants of these times are
shallow lechers ! they put not their courtship home
enough to a wench : 'tis impossible to know what
woman is throughly honest, because she's ne'er
thoroughly tried ; I am of that certain belief, there

b Saint Antling's belt] See note, vol. i. p. 503.—" At St. An-
tholin's church there used to be a lecture early in the morning,
which was much frequented by the puritans of the times."
REED.

THE ROARING GIRL. 465

are more queans in this town of their own making
than of any man's provoking: where lies the slack
ness then ? many a poor soul would down, and
there's nobody will push 'em :
Women are courted, but ne'er soundly tried,
As many walk in spurs that never ride. \_Aside.

[At the sempster's shop.

Mis. O. O, abominable !

Gos. Nay, more, T tell you in private, he keeps
a whore i' th' suburbs.

Mis. O. O spittle0 dealing! I came to him a
gentlewoman born : I'll shew you mine arms when
you please, sir.

Gos. I had rather see your legs, and begin that
way. {Aside.

Mis. O. 'Tis well known he took me from a
lady's service, where I was well beloved of the
steward : I had my Latin tongue, and a spice of
the French, before I came to him ; and now doth
he keep a suburbian whore under my nostrils ?

Gos. There's ways enough to cry quit with him :
hark in thine ear. [Whispers her.

Mis. O. There's a friend worth a million !

MOLL. I'll try one spear against your chastity,
mistress Tiltyard, though it prove too short by the
burgh.d [Aside.

c spittle'] i. e. hospital. " The reuenge was common as the
Law, or as the blowes of a Spittle whore." The Owles Alma-
nacke (by Dekker), 1618, p. 18. — Gifford wished to make a
distinction between spittle and spital (note on Massinger's
City Madam, act iii. sc. 1) ; but see Todd's Johnson's Diet.,
and Nares's Gloss, in v.

d burgh] Or burre is " a broad ring of iron behind the handle
[of a tilting lance], which burre is brought into the sufflue or
rest, when the tilter is ready to run against his enimy, or pre-
pareth himself to combate or encounter his adverse party."
R. Holme's Acad. of Armoury, cited by Nares, Gloss, in v.

466 THE ROARING GIRL.

Enter TRAPDOOR.

TRAP. Mass, here she is : I'm bound already to
serve her, though it be but a sluttish trick. [Aside. ~\
— Bless my hopeful young mistress with long life
and great limbs ; send her the upper hand of all
bailiffs and their hungry adherents !

MOLL. How now ? what art thou ?

TRAP. A poor ebbing gentleman, that would
gladly wait for the young flood of your service.

MOLL. My service? what should move you to
offer your service to me, sir ?

TRAP. The love I bear to your heroic spirit and
masculine womanhood.

MOLL. So, sir ! put case we should retain you to
us, what parts are there in you for a gentlewoman's
service ?

TRAP. Of two kinds, right worshipful ; moveable
and immoveable — moveable to run of errands, and
immoveable to stand when you have occasion to
use me.

MOLL. What strength have you ?

TRAP. Strength, mistress Moll ? I have gone up
into a steeple, and stayed the great bell as't has
been ringing ; stopt a windmill going

MOLL. And never struck down yourself?

TRAP. Stood as upright as I do at this present.
[MOLL trips up his heels.

MOLL. Come, I pardon you for this ; it shall be
no disgrace to you : I have struck up the heels of
the high German's size6 ere now. What, not stand ?

e the high German's size~\ So afterwards, in act iii. sc. 1, Moll
exclaims,

" a name which I'd tear out
From the high German's throat &c.,

where Reed remarks, " He seems to have been noted for his
extraordinary strength, and is probably the same person men-

THE ROARING GIRL. 467

TRAP. I am of that nature, where I love, I'll be
at my mistress' foot to do her service.

MOLL. Why, well said ; but say your mistress
should receive injury, have you the spirit of fighting
in you ? durst you second her ?

TRAP. Life, I have kept a bridge myself, and
drove seven at a time before me !

MOLL. Ay?

TRAP. But they were all Lincolnshire bullocks,
by my troth, [Aside.

MOLL. Well, meet me in Gray's Inn Fields be
tween three and four this afternoon, and, upon
better consideration, we'll retain you.

TRAP. I humbly thank your good mistresship. —
I'll crack your neck for this kindness. [Aside, fy exit.

LAX. Remember three. [MOLL meets LAXTON, and

MOLL. Nay, if I fail you, hang me.

LAX. Good wench, i'faith !

MOLL. Who's this ? [then OPENWORK.

tioned in The Curtaine Drawer of the World, 1612, 4to. p. 27.
' Aske but this Curtaine Drawer and he will tell you, that few
there are, and those escape very hardly like the bird out of
the snare, like the German out of Woodstreet, or those that
commit murder, or like him that escapes the hangman from
the tree of execution.' " Nares (Gloss, in German, High,}
says, he was " probably a tall German, shown for a sight . . .
I do not agree with the editor [Reed], that the same person
is meant by the German ' who escaped out of Woodstreet.'
The high German must have been some man generally known
for strength or size ; that the same person should also have
had a very narrow escape from Wood Street, is possible to be
sure, but very improbable. Perhaps the high German was the
famous fencer, whose feats are thus recorded : ' Since the
German fencer cudgelled most of our English fencers, now
about 5 moneths past.' [" a moneth past" — in my copy, p. 7.]
Owle's Almanacke [by Dekker], publ. 1618, p. 6. High Ger
man may, however, be only in opposition to low German, or
Dutch ; as, for a long time, high German quack doctors were
in repute."

468 THE ROARING GIRL.

OPEN. Tis I, Moll.

MOLL. Prithee, tend thy shop and prevent bas
tards.

OPEN. We'll have a pint of the same wine,6 i'faith,
Moll. [Exit with MOLL.] [Bell rings.

Gos. Hark, the bell rings ! come, gentlemen.
Jack Dapper, where shall's all munch ?

J. DAP. I am for Parker's ordinary.

LAX. He's a good guest to'm, he deserves his
board ; he draws all the gentlemen in a term-time
thither. We'll be your followers, Jack ; lead the
way. — Look you, by my faith, the fool has feathered
his nest well.

[Exeunt JACK DAPPER, LAXTON, GOSHAWK,
and GREENWIT.

Enter GALLIPOT, TILTYARD, and Servants, with water-
spaniels and a duck.

TILT. Come, shut up your shops. Where's mas
ter Openwork ?

Mis. G. Nay, ask not me, master Tiltyard.

TILT. Where's his water-dog ? puh — pistf — hur
— hur — pist !

GAL. Come, wenches, come ; we're going all to
Hogsdon.

Mis. G. To Hogsdon, husband ?

GAL. Ay, to Hogsdon, pigsnie.s

Mis. G. I'm not ready, husband.

GAL. Faith, that's well — hum — pist — pist.—
[Spits in the dog's mouth.
Come, mistress Openwork, you are so long !

Mis. O. I have no joy of my life, master Gal
lipot.

e same wine'] i. e. bastard : see note, p. 347.

{ pist] See note, p. 460.

s pig&nie] i. e. little pig — a terra of endearment.

THE ROARING GIRL. 469

GAL. Push,1 let your boy lead his water-spaniel
along, and we'll shew you the bravest sport at
Parlous Pond.J — Hey, trug, hey, trug, hey, trug ! k
here's the best duck in England, except my wife ;
hey, hey, hey ! fetch, fetch, fetch ! —
Come, let's away r1
Of all the year this is the sportful'st day. {Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A Street.
Enter SEBASTIAN WENGRAVE.

SEE. If a man have a free will, where should the

use

More perfect shine than in his will to love ?
All creatures have their liberty in that,

Enter behind SIR ALEX. WENGRAVE listening.

Though else kept under servile yoke and fear ;
The very bond-slave has his freedom there.
Amongst a world of creatures voic'd and silent,
Must my desires wear fetters? — Yea, are you

1 Push'] See note, vol. i. p. 29.

J at Parlous Pond] " This, I imagine, is the same place now
called Peerless Pool. It is situated near Old-street Road, and
was formerly a spring that, overflowing its banks, caused a
very dangerous pond, which, from the number of persons who
lost their lives there, obtained the name of Perilous Pool. To
prevent these accidents, it was in a manner filled up until the
year 1743, when it was enclosed, and converted into a bathing-
place." REED. Parlous is a corruption of perilous.

k Hey, trug, &c.] " I suppose Trug is the name of the
spaniel whom he is sending into the water to hunt ducks ; or
else that he means to say trudge, trudge." STEEVENS. Per
haps trug is equivalent to bitch : see note, p. 222.

1 Come, let's away, &c.] An imperfect couplet : see notes,
p. 7 of this vol. and p. 424 of vol. i.
VOL. II. S S

470 THE ROARING GIRL.

So near ? then I must break with my heart's truth,

Meet grief at a back way. — Well : why, suppose

The two-leav'd1 tongues of slander or of truth

Pronounce Moll loathsome ; if before my love

She appear fair, what injury have I ?

I have the thing I like : in all things else

Mine own eye guides me, and I find 'em prosper.

Life ! what should ail it now ? I know that man

Ne'er truly loves, — if he gainsay't he lies, —

That winks and marries with his father's eyes :

I'll keep mine own wide open.

Enter MOLL, and a Porter with a viol on his back.

S. ALEX. Here's brave wilfulness !
A made match ! here she comes ; they met a' pur
pose. [Aside.

POR. Must I carry this great fiddle to your
chamber, mistress Mary ?

MOLL. Fiddle, goodman hog-rubber ? Some of
these porters bear so much for others, they have
no time to carry wit for themselves.

POR. To your own chamber, mistress Mary ?

MOLL. Who'll hear an ass speak ? whither else,
goodman pageant-bearer ? They're people of the
worst memories ! [Exit Porter.

SEE. Why, 'twere too great a burden, love, to

have them

Carry things in their minds and a' their backs to
gether.

MOLL. Pardon me, sir, I thought not you so near.

S. ALEX. So, so, so ! [Aside.

1 two-leav'd tongues} Old ed. " two leaud tongues." The
last editor of Dodsley's Old Plays printed " two lewd tongues,"
— leaud being, as he thinks, the old spelling of lewd. Qy.
" two loud?"

THE ROARING GIRL. 471

SEB. I would be nearer to thee, and in that

fashion

That makes the best part of all creatures honest :
No otherwise I wish it.

MOLL. Sir, I am so poor to requite you, you
must look for nothing but thanks of me : I have no
humour to marry ; I love to lie a' both sides a' th'
bed myself: and again, a' th' other side, a wife, you
know, ought to be obedient, but I fear me I am too
headstrong to obey; therefore I'll ne'er go about
it. I love you so well, sir, for your good will, I'd
be loath you should repent your bargain after ; and
therefore we'll ne'er come together at first. I have
the head now of myself, and am man enough for a
woman : marriage is but a chopping and changing,
where a maiden loses one head, and has a worse
i' th' place.

S. ALEX. The most comfortablest answer from a

roaring girl
That ever mine ears drunk in ! [Aside.

SEB. This were enough
Now to affright a fool for ever from thee,
When 'tis the music that I love thee for.

S. ALEX. There's a boy spoils all again ! [Aside.

MOLL. Believe it, sir, I am not of that disdainful
temper but I could love you faithfully.

S. ALEX. A pox on you for that word ! I like

you not now,
You're a cunning roarer, I see that already. [Aside.

MOLL. But sleep upon this once more, sir ; you
may chance shift a mind to-morrow : be not too
hasty to wrong yourself; never while you live, sir,
take a wife running ; many have run out at heels
that have done't. You see, sir, I speak against
myself; and if every woman would deal with their
suitor so honestly, poor younger brothers would not

472 THE ROARING GIRL.

be so often gulled with old cozening widows, that
turn o'er all their wealth in trust to some kinsman,
and make the poor gentleman work hard for a pen
sion. Fare you well, sir.

SEE. Nay, prithee, one word more.

S. ALEX. How do I wrong this girl ! she puts
him off still. [Aside.

MOLL. Think upon this in cold blood, sir : you
make as much haste as if you were a-going upon a
sturgeon voyage. Take deliberation, sir ; never
choose a wife as if you were going to Virginia.1"

SEB. And son we parted : my too-cursed fate !

S. ALEX. She is but cunning, gives him longer
time in't. [Aside.

Enter Tailor.

TAI. Mistress Moll, mistress Moll ! so ho, ho,
so ho !

MOLL. There, boy, there, boy ! what dost thou
go a-hawking after me with a red clout on thy
finger ?

TAI. I forgot to take measure on you for your
new breeches.

S. ALEX. Hoyda, breeches ? what, will he marry
a monster with two trinkets ? what age is this ! if
the wife go in breeches, the man must wear long
coats0 like a fool. [Aside.

MOLL. What fiddling's here ! would not the old
pattern have served your turn ?

TAI. You change the fashion : you say you'll
have the great Dutch slop,? mistress Mary.

m Virginia] " Great efforts were used about this time to
settle Virginia." REED.

11 And so, &c.] A quotation, probably.

0 long coats, &c.] i. e. petticoats: in some parts of Scotland
they are still worn by male idiots of the lowest class.

P great Dutch slop] i. e. large wide breeches.

THE ROARING GIRL. 473

MOLL. Why, sir, I say so still.

TAI. Your breeches, then, will take up a yard
more.

MOLL. Well, pray, look it be put in then.

TAI. It shall stand round and full, I warrant you.

MOLL. Pray, make 'em easy enough.

TAI. I know my fault now, t'other was some
what stiff between the legs ; I'll make these open
enough, I warrant you.

S.ALEX. Here's good gear towards !<* I have
brought up my son to marry a Dutch slop and a
French doublet ; a codpiece daughter ! [Aside.

TAI. So, I have gone as far as I can go.

MOLL. Why, then, farewell.

TAI. If you go presently to your chamber, mis
tress Mary, pray, send me the measure of your
thigh by some honest body.

MOLL. Well, sir, I'll send it by a porter pre
sently. [Exit.

TAI. So you had need, it is a lusty one ; both of
them would make any porter's back ache in Eng
land. [Exit.

SEE. I have examin'd the best part of man,
Reason and judgment ; and in love, they tell me,
They leave me uncontroll'd : he that is sway'd
By an unfeeling blood, past heat of love,
His spring-time must needs err ; his watch ne'er

goes right
That sets his dial by a rusty clock.

S. ALEX, [coming forward] So ; and which is that
rusty clock, sir, you ?

SEE. The clock atLudgate, sir; it ne'er goes true.

S. ALEX. But thou go'st falser ; not thy father's
cares

i towards'] i. e. in preparation.

474 THE ROARING GIRL.

Can keep thee right : when that insensible work
Obeys the workman's art, lets off the hour,
And stops again when time is satisfied :
But thou runn'st on ; and judgment, thy main wheel,
Beats by all stops, as if the work would break,
Begun with long pains for a minute's ruin :
Much like a suffering man brought up with care,
At last bequeath'd to shame and a short prayer.

SEE. I taste you bitterer than I can deserve, sir.

S. ALEX. Who has bewitch['d] thee, son ? what

devil or drug

Hath wrought upon the weakness of thy blood,
And betray'd all her hopes to ruinous folly ?
O, wake from drowsy and enchanted shame,
Wherein thy soul sits, with a golden dream
Flatter'd and poison'd ! I am old, my son ;
O, let me prevail quickly !
For I have weightier business of mine own
Than to chide thee : I must not to my grave
As a drunkard to his bed, whereon he lies
Only to sleep, and never cares to rise :
Let me despatch in time ; come no more near her.

SEE. Not honestly ? not in the way of marriage ?

S. ALEX. What sayst thou ? marriage ? in what

place ? the Sessions-house ?

And who shall give the bride, prithee ? an indict
ment ?

SEE. Sir, now ye take part with the world to
wrong her.

S. ALEX. Why, wouldst thou fain marry to be

pointed at ?

Alas, the number's great ! do not o'erburden't.
Why, as good marry a beacon on a hill,
Which all the country fix their eyes upon,
As her thy folly doats on. If thou long'st
To have the story of thy infamous fortunes

THE ROARING GIRL. 475

Serve for discourse in ordinaries and taverns,
Thou'rt in the way ; or to confound thy name,
Keep on, thou canst not miss it ; or to strike
Thy wretched father to untimely coldness,
Keep the left hand still, it will bring thee to't.
Yet, if no tears wrung from thy father's eyes,
Nor sighs that fty in sparkles from his sorrows,
Had power to alter what is wilful in thee,
Methinks her very name should fright thee from her,
And never trouble me.

SEE. Why, is the name of Moll so fatal, sir ?

S. ALEX. Many one,8 sir, where suspect is enter'd;
For, seek all London from one end to t'other,
More whores of that name than of any ten other.

SEB. What's that to her ? let those blush for

themselves :

Can any guilt in others condemn her ?
I've vow'd to love her : let all storms oppose me
That ever beat against the breast of man,
Nothing but death's black tempest shall divide us.

S. ALEX. O, folly that can doat on nought but
shame !

SEB. Put case, a wanton itch runs through one

name

More than another ; is that name the worse,
Where honesty sits possest in't ? it should rather
Appear more excellent, and deserve more praise,
When through foul mists a brightness it can raise.
Why, there are of the devils honest gentlemen
And well descended, keep an open house,
And some a' th' good man's* that are arrant knaves.

s Many one, &c.] A word, perhaps a line, wanting here.

1 good man's] This seems to be an allusion to the proverbial
saying, " God's a good man :" see Much ado about Nothing,
act iii. sc. 5, Malone's Shakespeare (by Boswell), vol. vii.
p. 104', and Steevens's note.

476 THE ROARING GIRL.

He hates unworthily that by rote contemns,
For the name neither saves nor yet condemns ;
And for her honesty, I've made such proof on't
In several forms, so nearly watch'd her ways,
I will maintain that strict against an army,
Excepting you, my father. Here's her worst,
Sh'as a bold spirit that mingles with mankind,
But nothing else comes near it : and oftentimes
Through her apparel somewhat shames her birth ;
But she is loose in nothing but in mirth :
Would all Molls were no worse !

S. ALEX. This way I toil in vain, and give but aimr
To infamy and ruin : he will fall ;
My blessing cannot stay him : all my joys
Stand at the brink of a devouring flood,
And will be wilfully swallow'd, wilfully.
But why so vain let all these tears be lost ?
I'll pursue her to shame, and so all's crost.

[Aside, and exit.

SEE. He's gone with some strange purpose, whose

effect

Will hurt me little if he shoot so wide,
To think I love so blindly : I but feed
His heart to this match, to draw on the other,
Wherein my joy sits with a full wish crown'd,
Only his mood excepted, which must change
By opposite policies, courses indirect ;
Plain dealing in this world takes no effect.
This mad girl I'll acquaint with my intent,

Get her assistance, make my fortunes* known :
'Twixt lovers' hearts she's a fit instrument,

And has the art to help them to their own.
By her advice, for in that craft she's wise,
My love and I may meet, spite of all spies. [Exit.

T give but aim] See note, p. 335.

THE ROARING GIRL. 477

ACT III. SCENE I.

Gray's Inn Fields.
Enter LAXTON and Coachman.

LAX. Coachman.

COACH. Here, sir.

LAX. There's a tester8 more ; prithee drive thy
coach to the hither end of Marybone-park, a fit
place for Moll to get in.

COACH. Marybone-park, sir?

LAX. Ay, it's in our way, thou knowest.

COACH. It shall be done, sir.

LAX. Coachman.

COACH. Anon, sir.

LAX. Are we fitted with good phrampel* jades?

COACH. The best in Smithfield, I warrant you, sir.

LAX. May we safely take the upper hand of any
coached velvet cap, or tuftaffety jacket? for they
keep a vildu swaggering in coaches now-a-days ;
the highways are stopt with them.

COACH. My life for yours, and bafflev 'em too,
sir : why, they are the same jades believe it, sir,
that have drawn all your famous whores to Ware.

LAX. Nay, then they know their business ; they
need no more instructions.

COACH. They're so used to such journeys, sir, I

* tester] i. e. a sixpence : see note, vol. i. p. 258.

' phrampef] " Phrampel here appears to signify fiery or
mettlesome." REED. It is written also frampold, frampul, &c.,
and generally signifies vexatious, saucy, peevish, &c.

u vild~\ See note, p. 393.

v baffle'] See note, p. 449. In The Devil is an Ass, act iv.
sc. 3, is a stage-direction, " Baffles him [i. e. passes him with
some act of contempt] and exit." B. Jonson's Works, by Gif-
ford, vol. v. p. 127.

478 THE ROARING GIRL.

never use whip to 'em ; for if they catch but the
sc^nt of a wench once, they run like devils. [Exit.*
LAX. Fine Cerberus ! that rogue will have the
start of a thousand ones ; for whilst others trot a'
foot, he'll ride prancing to hell upon a coach-horse.
Stay, 'tis now about the hour of her appointment,
but yet I see her not. \_The clock strikes three .]
Hark ! what's this ? one, two, three : three by the
clock at Savoy ; this is the hour, and Gray's Inn
Fields the place, she swore she'd meet me. Ha !
yonder's two Inns-a'-court men with one wench,
but that's not she ; they walk toward Islington out
of my way. I see none yet drest like her ; I must
look for a shag ruff, a freize jerken, a short sword,
and a safeguard,x or I get none. Why, Moll, pri
thee, make haste, or the coachman will curse us
anon.

Enter MOLL, dressed as a man.
MOLL. O, here's my gentleman ! If they would
keep their days as well with their mercers as their
hours with their harlots, no bankrout^ would give
seven score pound for a sergeant's place ; for would
you know a catchpoll rightly derived, the corrup
tion of a citizen is the generation of a sergeant.
How his eye hawks for venery ! \_Aside.~\ — Come,
are you ready, sir ?

LAX. Ready ? for what, sir ?
MOLL. Do you ask that now, sir ?
Why was this meeting 'pointed ?

LAX. I thought you mistook me, sir : you seem
to be some young barrister;
I have no suit in law, all my land's sold ;
I praise heaven for't, 't has rid me of much trouble.

w Exit] Old ed. " Exit Coachman with his whip."
* safeguard] See note, p. 459.
• y bankrout] i. e. bankrupt.

THE ROARING GIRL. 479

MOLL. Then I must wake you, sir ; where stands
the coach ?

LAX. Who's this? Moll, honest Moll?

MOLL. So young, and purblind ?
You're an old wanton in your eyes, I see that.

LAX. Thou'rt admirably suited for the Three
Pigeons at Brainford.2 I'll swear I knew thee not.

MOLL. I'll swear you did not ; but you shall
know me now.

LAX. No, not here ; we shall be spied, i'faith ;
the coach is better : come.

MOLL. Stay. [Puts off her cloak.

LAX. What, wilt thou untruss a point,3 Moll ?

MOLL. Yes ; here's the point [Draws her sword.
That I untruss ; 't has but one tag, 't will serve

though
To tie up a rogue's tongue.

LAX. How !

MOLL. There's the gold
With which you hir'd your hackney, here's her

pace;

She racks hard, and perhaps your bones will feel it :
Ten angelsb of mine own I've put to thine ;
Win 'em, and wear 'em.

LAX. Hold, Moll! mistress Mary —

MOLL. Draw, or I'll serve an execution on thee,
Shall lay thee up till doomsday.

LAX. Draw upon a woman! why, what dost
mean, Moll ?

1 Brainford'] See note, p. 463. The inn called The Three
Pigeons was resorted to by company of an inferior rank. At
a later period, when puritanism had silenced the stage, it was
kept by the celebrated actor, Lowin.

a untruss a point'] See note, vol. i. p. 367.
angels] See note, vol. i. p. 250.

480 THE ROARING GIRL.

MOLL. To teach thy base thoughts manners :

thou'rt one of those

That thinks each woman thy fond flexible whore ;
If she but cast a liberal0 eye upon thee,
Turn back her head, she's thine ; or amongst com
pany

By chance drink first to thee, then she's quite gone,
There is no means to help her : nay, for a need,
Wilt swear unto thy credulous fellow-lechers,
That thou art more in favour with a lady
At first sight than her monkey all her lifetime.
How many of our sex, by such as thou,
Have their good thoughts paid with a blasted name
That never deserv'd loosely, or did trip
In path of whoredom beyond cup and lip !
But for the stain of conscience and of soul,
Better had women fall into the hands
Of an act silent than a bragging nothing;
There is no mercy in't. What durst move you, sir,
To think me whorish? a name which I'd tear out
From the high German's throat,d if it lay leiger6

there

To despatch privy slanders against me.
In thee I defy all men, their worst hates
And their best flatteries, all their golden witch
crafts,

With which they entangle the poor spirits of fools,
Distressed needle-women and trade-fallen wives ;
Fish that must needs bite, or themselves be bitten :
Such hungry things as these may soon be took

c liberal] i. e. too free.

d high German's throat] See note, p. 466.

e leiger} See note, p. 316. That the last editor of this play
should have had any doubts about the meaning of the word, is
somewhat strange.

THE ROARING GIRL. 481

With a worm fasten'd on a golden hook :
Those are the lecher's food, his prey; he watches
For quarrelling wedlocksf and poor shifting sisters ;
'Tis the best fish he takes. But why, good fisher
man,

Am I thought meat for you, that never yet
Had angling rod cast towards me? 'cause, you'll say,
I'm given to sport, I'm often merry, jest :
Had mirth no kindred in the world but lust,

0 shame take all her friends then ! but howe'er
Thou and the baser world censure my life,

I'll send 'em word by thee, and write so much
Upon thy breast, 'cause thou shalt bear't in mind,
Tell them 'twere base to yield where I have con-
quer'd ;

1 scorn to prostitute myself to a man,
I that can prostitute a man to me ;
And so I greet thee.

LAX. Hear me

MOLL. Would the spirits
Of all my sland[er]ers were clasp'd in thine,
That I might vex an army at one time ! [They fght.

LAX. I do repent me ; hold !

MOLL. You'll die the better Christian then.

LAX. I do confess I have wronged thee, Moll.

MOLL. Confession is but poor amends for wrong,
Unless a rope would follow.

LAX. I ask thee pardon.

MOLL. I'm your hir'd whore, sir !

LAX. I yield both purse and body.

MOLL. Both are mine,
And now at my disposing.

LAX. Spare my life !

f wedlocks] " i. e. wives. So in The Poetaster [by B. Jon-
son], act iv. sc. 3, ' Which of these is thy wedlock, Mene-
laus?'" REED.

VOL. II. T T

482 THE ROARING GIRL.

MOLL. I scorn to strike thee basely.

LAX. Spoke like a noble girl, i'faith ! — Heart, I
think I fight with a familiar/ or the ghost of a
fencer. Sh'as wounded me gallantly. Call you this a
lecherous viage?e here's blood would have served
me this seven year in broken heads and cut fingers ;
and it now runs all out together. Pox a' the Three
Pigeons ! h I would the coach were here now to
carry me to the chirurgeon's. \_Aside, and exit.

MOLL. If I could meet my enemies one by one

thus,

I might make pretty shift with 'em in time,
And make 'em know she that has wit and spirit,
May scorn

To live beholding1 to her body for meat ;
Or for apparel, like your common dame,
That makes shame get her clothes to cover shame.
Base is that mind that kneels unto her body,
As if a husband stood in awe on's wife :
My spirit shall be mistress of this house
As long as I have time in't. — O,

Enter TRAPDOOR.

Here comes my man that would be : 'tis his hour.
Faith, a good well-set fellow, if his spirit
Be answerable to his umbles :•> he walks stiff,
But whether he'll stand to't stiffly, there's the point :
Has a good calf for't ; and ye shall have many a
woman

f familiar'] i. e. a demon — properly, such as attends on a
sorcerer or witch.

s viage"] i. e. voyage (see Todd's Johnson's Diet, in v.), ex
cursion.

h Three Pigeons] See note, p. 479. I suspect that this
speech was intended to close with a hobbling couplet.

1 beholding'] See note, vol. i. p. 441.

J to his umbles] " i. e. his inside. Umbles are the entrails
of a deer." STEEVENS.

THE ROARING GIRL. 483

Choose him she means to make her head by his calf:
I do not know their tricks in't. Faith, he seems
A man without ; I'll try what he's within.

TRAP. She told me Gray's Inn Fields, 'twixt three

and four ;

I'll fit her mistress-ship with a piece of service :
I'm hir'd to rid the town of one mad girl.

[MOLL jostles him.
What a pox ails you, sir ?

MOLL. He begins like a gentleman.

TRAP. Heart, is the field so narrow, or your eye
sight

Life, he comes back again !

MOLL. Was this spoke to me, sir ?

TRAP. I cannot tell, sir.

MOLL. Go, you're a coxcomb !

TRAP. Coxcomb?

MOLL. You're a slave !

TRAP. I hope there's law for you, sir.

MOLL. Yea, do you see, sir ? [Turns his hat.

TRAP. Heart, this is no good dealing ! pray, let
me know what house you're of.

MOLL. One of the Temple, sir. [Fillips him.

TRAP. Mass, so methinks.

MOLL. And yet sometime I lie about Chick Lane.

TRAP. I like you the worse because you shift
your lodging so often : I'll not meddle with you
for that trick, sir.

MOLL. A good shift ; but it shall not serve your
turn.

TRAP. You'll give me leave to pass about my
business, sir ?

MOLL. Your business ? I'll make you wait on me
Before I ha' done, and glad to serve me too.

TRAP. How, sir ? serve you ? not if there were
no more men in England.

484 THE ROARING GIRL.

MOLL. But if there were no more women in

England,
I hope you'd wait upon your mistress then ?

TRAP. Mistress?

MOLL. O, you're a tried spirit at a push, sir !

TRAP. What would your worship have me do ?

MOLL. You a fighter !

TRAP. No, I praise heaven, I had better grace
and more manners.

MOLL. As how, I pray, sir ?

TRAP. Life, 'thad been a beastly part of me to
have drawn my weapons upon my mistress ; all the
world would 'a cried shame of me for that.

MOLL. Why, but you knew me not.

TRAP. Do not say so, mistress ; I knew you by
your wide straddle, as well as if I had been in your
belly.

MOLL. Well, we shall try you further ; i' th'

mean time
We give you entertainment.

TRAP. Thank your good mistress-ship.

MOLL. How many suits have you ?

TRAP. No more suits than backs, mistress.

MOLL. Well, if you deserve, I cast off this, next

week,
And you may creep into't.

TRAP. Thank your good worship.

MOLL. Come, follow me to St. Thomas Apostle's :
I'll put a livery cloak upon your back
The first thing I do.

TRAP. I follow, my dear mistress. [Exeunt.

THE ROARING GIRL. 485

SCENE II.

GALLIPOT'S Shop.

Enter MISTRESS GALLIPOT as from supper, GALLIPOT
following her.

GAL. What, Pru ! nay, sweet Prudence !
Mis. G. What a pruing keep you ! I think the
baby would have a teat, it kyesk so. Pray, be not
so fond of me, leave your city humours ; I'm vexed
at you, to see how like a calf you come bleating
after me.

GAL. Nay, honey Pru, how does your rising up
before all the table shew, and flinging from my
friends so uncivilly ! fie, Pru, fie ! come.

Mis. G. Then up and ride, i'faith !

GAL. Up and ride? nay, my pretty Pru, that's
far from my thought, duck : why, mouse,1 thy mind
is nibbling at something ; what is't ? what lies upon
thy stomach ?

Mis. G. Such an ass as you : hoyda, you're best
turn midwife, or physician ! you're a 'pothecary
already, but I'm none of your drugs.

GAL. Thou art a sweet drug, sweetest Pru, and
the more thou art pounded, the more precious.

Mis. G. Must you be prying into a woman's
secrets, say ye ?

GAL. Woman's secrets ?

Mis. G. What ! I cannot have a qualm come
upon me, but your teeth water"1 till your nose hang
over it !

GAL. It is my love, dear wife.

k kyes] " i. e. cries. She imitates the jargon talked by
nurses to infants." STEEVENS.
1 mouse] See note, p. 137.
m water'} Old ed. " waters."

486

THE ROARING GIRL.

Mis. G. Your love ? your love is all words ; give
me deeds : I cannot abide a man that's too fond
over me, — so cookish ! Thou dost not know how
to handle a woman in her kind.

GAL. No, Pru ? why, I hope I have handled —

Mis. G. Handle a fool's head of your own, —
fie, fie !

GAL. Ha, ha, 'tis such a wasp ! it does me good
now to have her s[tjing me, little rogue !

Mis. G. Now, fie, how you vex me ! I cannot
abide these apron husbands;"1 such cotqueans!n
you overdo your things, they become you scurvily.

GAL. Upon my life she breeds : heaven knows
how I have strained myself to please her night and
day. I wonder why we citizens should get children
so fretful and untoward in the breeding, their fathers
being for the most part as gentle as milch kine.
[4 side."]— Shall I leave thee, my Pru ?

Mis. G. Fie, fie, fie !

GAL. Thou shalt not be vexed no more, pretty,
kind rogue ; take no cold, sweet Pru. [Exit.

Mis. G. As your wit has done. Now, master
Laxton, shew your head ; what news from you ?
would any husband suspect that a woman crying,
Buy any scurvy-grass, should bring love - letters
amongst her herbs to his wife ? pretty trick ! fine
conveyance ! had jealousy a thousand eyes, a silly
woman with scurvy -grass blinds them all.
Laxton, with bays0
Crown I thy wit for this, it deserves praise :

m apron husbands] " i. e. husbands who follow their wives
as if tied to their apnw-strings." STEEVENS.

n cotqueans~\ i. e. men who meddle with female affairs.

0 Laxton, with bays, &c.] An imperfect couplet : see notes,
p. 7 of this vol. and p. 424 of vol. i.

THE ROARING GIRL. 487

This makes me affect thee more, this proves thee

wise :

'Lack, what poor shift is love forc'd to devise ! —
To th' point. [Reads letter.'] 0 sweet creature — a
sweet beginning ! — pardon my long absence, for thou
shalt shortly be possessed with my presence : though
Demophoon was false to Phyllis, I will be to thee as
Pan-da-rus mas to Cres-sida ;p though Mneas made
an ass of Dido, I will die to thee ere I do so. 0
sweetest creature, make much of me ! for no man be
neath the silver moon shall make more of a woman
than I do of thee : furnish me therefore with thirty
pounds ; you must do it of necessity for me ; I lan
guish till I see some comfort come from thee. Pro
testing not to die in thy debt, but rather to live, so as
hitherto I have and will,

Thy true Laxton ever.
Alas, poor gentleman ! troth, I pity him.
How shall I raise this money ? thirty pound !
'Tis thirty sure, a 3 before an 0 ;
I know his threes too well. My childbed linen,
Shall I pawn that for him ? then if my mark
Be known, I am undone ; it may be thought
My husband's bankrout.^ Which way shall I turn ?
Laxton, what with my own fears and thy wants,
I'm like a needle 'twixt two adamants.

Re-enter GALLIPOT hastily.

GAL. Nay, nay, wife, the women are all up —
Ha ! how ? reading a' letters ? I smell a goose, a
couple of capons, and a gammon of bacon, from her

P Pan-da-rus . . . Cres-sida] So in old ed., to mark the
difficulty with which such hard names were read by mistress
Gallipot.

i bankrout] i. e. bankrupt.

488 THE ROARING GIRL.

mother out of the country. I hold my life — steal,
stealr [Aside.

Mis. G. O, beshrew your heart !

GAL. What letter's that ? I'll see't.

[Mis. G. tears the letter.

Mis. G. O, would thou hadst no eyes to see the

downfal

Of me and thyself! I am for ever,
For ever I'm undone !

GAL. What ails my Pru ?
What paper's that thou tear'st ?

Mis. G. Would I could tear
My very heart in pieces ! for my soul
Lies on the rack of shame, that tortures me
Beyond a woman's suffering.

GAL. What means this ?

Mis. G. Had you no other vengeance to throw

down,
But even in height of all my joys —

GAL. Dear woman —

Mis. G. When the full sea of pleasure and content
Seem'd to flow over me ?

GAL. As thou desir'st

To keep me out of Bedlam, tell what troubles thee !
Is not thy child at nurse fallen sick, or dead ?

Mis. G. O, no !

GAL. Heavens bless me ! are my barns and houses
Yonder at Hockley-hole consum'd with fire ?
I can build more, sweet Pru.

Mis. G. Tis worse, 'tis worse !

GAL. My factor broke ? or is the Jonas sunk ?

Mis. G. Would all we had were swallow'd in the

waves,
Rather than both should be the scorn of slaves !

1 steal, steal] Qy. ought these words to be considered as
a stage-direction ?

THE ROARING GIRL. 489

GAL. I'm at my wit's end.

Mis. G. O my dear husband !
Where8 once I thought myself a fixed star,
Plac'd only in the heaven of thine arms,
I fear now I shall prove a wanderer.

0 Laxton, Laxton ! is it then my fate
To be by thee o'erthrown ?

GAL. Defend me, wisdom,
From falling into frenzy ! On my knees,
Sweet Pru, speak ; what's that Laxton, who so

heavy
Lies on thy bosom ?

Mis. G. T shall sure run mad !

GAL. I shall run mad for company then. Speak

to me ;

I'm Gallipot thy husband — Pru — why, Pru !
Art sick in conscience for some villanous deed
Thou wert about to act ? didst mean to rob me ?
Tush, I forgive thee : hast thou on my bed
Thrust my soft pillow under another's head ?
I'll wink at all faults, Pru : 'las, that's no more,
Than what some neighbours near thee have done

before !
Sweet honey Pru, what's that Laxton ?

Mis. G. O!

GAL. Out with him !

Mis. G. O, he's born to be my undoer !
This hand, which thou call'st thine, to him was

given,
To him was I made sure4 i' th' sight of heaven.

GAL. I never heard this thunder.

Mis. G. Yes, yes, before

1 was to thee contracted, to him I swore :

8 Where] i. e. whereas.

1 made sure'] i. e. affianced : compare vol. ii. p. 39.

490 THE ROARING GIRL.

Since last I saw him,u twelve months three times told
The moon hath drawn through her light silver bow;
For o'er the seas he went, and it was said,
But rumour lies, that he in France was dead :
But he's alive, O he's alive ! he sent
That letter to me, which in rage I rent ;
Swearing with oaths most damnably to have me,
Or tear me from this bosom : O heavens, save me !

GAL. My heart will break ; sham'd and undone
for ever !

Mis. G. So black a day, poor wretch, went o'er
thee never !

GAL. If thou should'st wrestle with him at the

law,

Thou'rt sure to fall. No odd slight ?v no prevention ?
I'll tell him thou'rt with child.

Mis. G. Umh !

GAL. Or give out
One of my men was ta'en a-bed with thee.

Mis. G. Umh, umh !

GAL. Before I lose thee, my dear Pru,
I'll drive it to that push.

Mis. G. Worse and worse still;
You embrace a mischief, to prevent an ill.

GAL. I'll buy thee of him, stop his mouth with

gold:
Think'st thou 'twill do ?

Mis. G. O me ! heavens grant it would !
Yet now my senses are set more in tune,
He writ, as I remember, in his letter,

u Since last I saw him, See.] Perhaps this scene is by Dekker :
in his Whore of Babylon, 1607, we find
" Fiue summers haue scarce drawn their glimmering nights

Through the Moons siluer bowe." Sig. A 4.

v slight'] See note, p. 250.

THE ROARING GIRL. 491

That he in riding up and down had spent,

Ere he could find me, thirty pounds : send that ;

Stand not on thirty with him.

GAL. Forty, Pru !

Say thou the word, 'tis done : we venture lives
For wealth, but must do more to keep our wives.
Thirty or forty, Pru ?

Mis. G. Thirty, good sweet ;
Of an ill bargain let's save what we can :
I'll pay it him with my tears ; he was a man,
When first I knew him, of a meek spirit,
All goodness is not yet dried up, I hope.

GAL. He shall have thirty pound, let that stop all :
Love's sweets taste best when we have drunk down
gall.

Enter TILTYARD, MISTRESS TILTYARD, GOSHAWK,
and MISTRESS OPENWORK.

God's-so, our friends ! come, come, smooth your

cheek :
After a storm the face of heaven looks sleek.

TILT. Did I not tell you these turtles were toge
ther?
Mis. T. How dost thou, sirrah ?w why, sister

Gallipot-
Mis. O. Lord, how she's chang'd!
Gos. Is your wife ill, sir?

GAL. Yes, indeed, la, sir, very ill, very ill, never
worse.

Mis. T. How her head burns! feel how her pulses

work !

Mis. O. Sister, lie down a little ; that always
does me good.

w sirrah] When this play was written, and long after, a
female was frequently so addressed : see my note on Web
ster's Works, vol. iii. p. 23.

492 THE ROARING GIRL.

Mis. T. In good sadness,* I find best ease in that
too. Has she laid some hot thing to her stomach ?

Mis. G. No, but I will lay something anon.

TILT. Come, come, fools, you trouble her. —
Shall's go, master Goshawk ?

Gos. Yes, sweet master Tiltyard. — Sirrah Rosa
mond, I hold my life Gallipot hath vext his wife.

Mis. O. She has a horrible high colour indeed.

Gos. We shall have your face painted with the
same red soon at night, when your husband comes
from his rubbers in a false alley : thou wilt not be
lieve me that his bowls run with a wrong bias.

Mis. O. It cannot sink into me that he feeds
upon stale mutton abroad, having better and fresher
at home.

Gos. What if I bring thee where thou shalt see
him stand at rack and manger ?

Mis. O. I'll saddle him in's kind, and spur him
till he kick again.

Gos. Shall thou and I ride our journey then ?

Mis. O. Here's my hand.

Gos. No more. — Come, master Tiltyard, shall
we leap into the stirrups with our women, and
amble home ?

TILT. Yes, yes. — Come, wife.

Mis. T. In troth, sister, I hope you will do well
for all this.

Mis. G. I hope I shall. Farewell, good sister.
Sweet master Goshawk.

GAL. Welcome, brother, most kindly welcome,
sir.

ALL. Thanks, sir, for our good cheer.

[Exeunt all but GALLIPOT and Mis. GALLIPOT.

GAL. It shall be so : because a crafty knave

x sadness"] i. e. seriousness.

THE ROARING GIRL. 493

Shall not outreach me, nor walk by my door
With my wife arm in arm, as 'twere his whore,
I'll give him a golden coxcomb, thirty pound.
Tush, Pru, what's thirty pound ? sweet duck, look

cheerly.
Mis. G. Thou'rt worthy of my heart, thou buy'st

it dearly.

Enter LAXTON muffled.

LAX. Uds light, the tide's against me ; a pox of
your 'pothecaryship ! O for some glister to set him
going ! 'Tis one of Hercules' labours to tread one
of these city hens, because their cocks are still
crowing over them. There's no turning tail here, I
must on. \_Aside.

Mis. G. O husband, see he comes !

GAL. Let me deal with him.

LAX. Bless you, sir.

GAL. Be you blest too, sir, if you come in peace.

LAX. Have you any good pudding tobacco, sir ?

Mis. G. O, pick no quarrels, gentle sir ! my hus
band

Is not a man of weapon, as you are ;
He knows all, I have open'd all before him,
Concerning you.

LAX. Zounds, has she shewn my letters ? {Aside.

Mis. G. Suppose my case were yours, what

would you do ?

At such a pinch, such batteries, such assaults
Of father, mother, kindred, to dissolve
The knot you tied, and to be bound to him ;
How could you shift this storm off?

LAX. If I know, hang me !

Mis. G. Besides a story of your death was read
Each minute to me.

LAX. What a pox means this riddling ? {Aside.
VOL. 11. u u

494 THE ROARING GIRL.

GAL. Be wise, sir ; let not you and I be tost
On lawyers' pens ; they have sharp nibs, and draw
Men's very heart-blood from them. What need

you, sir,

To beat the drum of my wife's infamy,
And call your friends together, sir, to prove
Your precontract, when sh'as confest it ?

LAX. Umh, sir,
Has she confest it ?

GAL. Sh'as, 'faith, to me, sir,
Upon your letter sending.
Mis. G. I have, I have.
LAX. If I let this iron cool, call me slave.

\_Aside.
Do you hear, you dame Prudence ? think'st thou,

vile woman,
I'll take these blows and wink ?

Mis. GAL. Upon my knees. [Kneeling.

LAX. Out, impudence !
GAL. Good sir —
LAX. You goatish slaves !
No wild fowl to cut up but mine ?

GAL. Alas, sir,

You make her flesh to tremble ; fright her not :
She shall do reason, and what's fit.

LAX. I'll have thee,

Wert thou more common than an hospital,
And more diseas'd.

GAL. But one word, good sir !
LAX. So, sir.

GAL. I married her, have lien with her, and got
Two children on her body ; think but on that :
Have you so beggarly an appetite,
When I upon a dainty dish have fed
To dine upon my scraps, my leavings ? ha, sir ?
Do I come near you now, sir ?

THE ROARING GIRL. 495

LAX. Byrlady,? you touch me !

GAL. Would not you scorn to wear my clothes,
sir?

LAX. Right, sir.

GAL. Then, pray, sir, wear not her ; for she's a

garment

So fitting for my body, I am loath
Another should put it on : you'll undo both.
Your letter, as she said, complain'd you had spent,
In quest of her, some thirty pound ; I'll pay it :
Shall that, sir, stop this gap up 'twixt you two ?

LAX. Well, if I swallow this wrong, let her thank

you :

The money being paid, sir, I am gone :
Farewell. O women, happy's he trusts none !

Mis. G. Despatch him hence, sweet husband.

GAL. Yes, dear wife :

Pray, sir, come in : ere master Laxton part,
Thou shalt in wine drink to him.

Mis. G. With all my heart. — [Exit GALLIPOT.
How dost thou like my wit ?

LAX. Rarely : that wile,

By which the serpent did the first woman beguile,
Did ever since all women's bosoms fill ;
You're apple-eaters all, deceivers still. \_Exeunt.

T Byrlady} Old ed. " Be lady :" see note, vol. i. p. 365.

496 THE ROARING GIRL.

SCENE III.

Holborn.

Enter SIR ALEX. WENGRAVE, SIR DAVY DAPPER,
and SIR ADAM APPLETON on one side, and TRAP
DOOR on the other.

S. ALEX. Out with your tale, sir Davy, to sir

Adam :
A knave is in mine eye deep in my debt.

S. DAVY. Nay, if he be a knave, sir, hold him

fast.
[SiR D. DAPPER and SIR A. APPLETON talk apart.

S. ALEX. Speak softly ; what egg is there hatch
ing now ?

TRAP. A duck's egg, sir, a duck that has eaten
a frog ; I have cracked the shell, and some villany
or other will peep out presently : the duck that sits
is the bouncing ramp,z that roaring girl my mis
tress ; the drake that must tread is your son Sebas
tian.

S. ALEX. Be quick.

TRAP. As the tongue of an oyster-wench.

S. ALEX. And see thy news be true.

TRAP. As a barber's every Saturday night. Mad
Moll-: —

S. ALEX. Ah

TRAP. Must be let in, without knocking, at your
back gate. ^

S. ALEX. So.

TRAP. Your chamber will be made bawdy.

S. ALEX. Good.

TRAP. She comes in a shirt of mail.

z ramp] i. e. ramping, rampant creature : " although she
were a lustie bounsing rampe, somewhat like Gallemella," &c.
G. Harvey's Pierces Supererogation, 1593, p. 145.

THE ROARING GIRL. 497

S.ALEX. How? shirt of mail?

TRAP. Yes, sir, or a male shirt ; that's to say, in
man's apparel.

S. ALEX. To my son ?

TRAP. Close to your son : your son and her
moon will be in conjunction,/ if all almanacs lie
not; her black saveguard3 is turned into a deep
slop, the holes of her upper body to button-holes,
her waistcoat to a doublet, her placketb to the an
cient seat of a cod-piece, and you shall take 'em
both with standing collars.

S. ALEX. Art sure of this?

TRAP. As every throng is sure of a pick-pocket;
as sure as a whore is of the clients all Michaelmas
term, and of the pox after the term.

S. ALEX. The time of their tilting ?

TRAP. Three.

S. ALEX. The day?

TRAP. This.

S. ALEX. Away ; ply it, watch her.

TRAP. As the devil doth for the death of a bawd;
I'll watch her, do you catch her.

S. ALEX. She's fast : here weave thou the nets.
Hark.

TRAP. They are made.

S. ALEX. I told them thou didst owe me money :
hold it up ; maintain't.

TRAP. Stiffly, as a puritan does contention. — Pox,
I owe thee not the value of a halfpenny halter.

S. ALEX. Thou shalt be hang'd in it ere thou

'scape so :
Varlet, I'll make thee look th[o]rough a grate !

a saveguard . . . slop~\ See notes, pp. 459, 472.

b placket} Has been variously explained— the opening of
the petticoat — the forepart of the shift or petticoat : Nares
(Gloss, in v.) insists that it meant only a petticoat, generally
an under one.

498 THE ROARING GIRL.

TRAP. I'll do't presently, through a tavern grate :
drawer! pish. [Exit.

S. ADAM. Has the knave vex'd you, sir ?

S. ALEX. Ask'd him my money,
He swears my son receiv'd it. O, that boy
Will ne'er leave heaping sorrows on my heart,
Till he has broke it quite !

S. ADAM. Is he still wild ?

S. ALEX. As is a Russian bear.

S. ADAM. But he has left
His old haunt with that baggage?

S. ALEX. Worse still and worse ;
He lays on me his shame, I on him my curse.

S. DAVY. My son, Jack Dapper, then shall run

with him
All in one pasture.

S. ADAM. Proves your son bad too, sir ?

S. DAVY. As villany can make him : your Se
bastian

Doats but on one drab, mine on a thousand ;
A noise of fiddlers,0 tobacco, wine, and a whore,
A mercer that will let him take up more,
Dice, and a water-spaniel with a duck, — O
Bring him a-bed with these : when his purse gingles,
Roaring boysd follow at's tail, fencers and ningles,6
Beasts Adam ne'er gave name to ; these horse
leeches suck

c a noise of fiddlers] i. e. a company of musicians, — an ex
pression frequently occurring : " those terrible noyses, with
thredbare cloakes, that Hue by red lattises and luy-bushes,
hauing authority to thrust into any mans roome, onely speaking
but this, Will you haue any musicke ? " Dekker's Belman of
London, 1608, sig. B 4.

d roaring boys] See p. 427.

e ningles] Or ingles (the former being an abbreviation of
mine ingles}, i. e. favourites. The word was used (and per
haps originally) in a worse sense : see vol. i. p. 301.

THE ROARING GIRL. 499

My son ; he being drawn dry, they all live on
smoke.

S. ALEX. Tobacco ?

S. DAVY. Right : but I have in my brain
A windmill going that shall grind to dust
The follies of my son, and make him wise,
Or a stark fool. Pray lend me your advice.

S* ADA j That shall y°u> good sir Davy.

S. DAVY. Here's the springe
I ha' set to catch this woodcock in : an action
In a false name, unknown to him, is enter'd
F th' Counter to arrest Jack Dapper.

S. DAVY. Think you the Counter cannot break
him?

S. ADAM. Break him ?
Yes, and break's heart too, if he lie there long.

S. DAVY. I'll make him sing a counter-tenor
sure.

S. ADAM. No way to tame him like it ; there he

shall learn
What money is indeed, and how to spend it.

S. DAVY. He's bridled there.

S. ALEX. Ay, yet knows not how to mend it.
Bedlam cures not more madmen in a year
Than one of the Countersf does ; men pay more dear
There for their wit than any where : a Counter !
Why, 'tis an university, who not sees ?
As scholars there, so here men take degrees,
And follow the same studies all alike.
Scholars learn first logic and rhetoric ;

{ the Counters . . . Why, 'tis an university'] See note, vol. i.
p. 392.

500 THE ROARING GIRL.

So does a prisoner : with fine honey'd speech
At's first coming in he doth persuade, beseech
He may he lodg'd with one that is not itchy,
To lie in a clean chamber, in sheets not lousy ;
But when he has no money, tln-n docs he try,
By subtle logic and quaint sophistry,
To make the keepers trust him.

S. ADAM. Say they do.

S. ALEX. Then he's a graduate.

S. DAVY. Say they trust him not.

S. ALEX. Then is he held a freshman and a sot,
And never shall commence ;^ but being still barr'd,
Be expuls'd from the Master's side*1 to th' Two
penny ward,
Or else i' th' Hole beg plac'd.1

S. ADAM. When then, I pray,
Proceeds a prisoner ?

S. ALJ;X. When, money being the theme,
He can dispute with his hard creditors' hearts,
And get out clear, he's then a master of arts.
Sir Davy, send your son to Wood Street college,
A gentleman can no where get more knowledge.

S. DAW. There gallants study hard.

S. ALEX. True, to get money.

S. DAVY. Lies* by th' heels, i'faith : thanks,

thanks ; I ha' sent
For a couple Of hears shall paw him.

S. ADAM. Who comes yonder ?

S. DAVY. They look like puttocks ;k these should
be they.

• Then is he held a freshman and a sot,

And never shall < >,n< /„<•„< ,- \ " The speaker is here employing
terms in use only at the university." STEEVEMi.
h Master's tide, &c.] See note;, vol. i. p. 392.
1 beg plac'd] i. e. beg to be plac'd: but <jy. "
i Li.f i « . He lies, he shall lie.
k puttocks] i. e. kites.

THE ROARING GIRL. 501

Enter CURTLEAX and HANGER.

S. ALEX. I know 'em,
They are officers; sir, we'll leave you.

S. DAVY. My good knights,
Leave me ; you see I'm haunted now with sprites.k

S. ALEX.) n

S ADAM I e ^ou ' sir' [Exeunt.

CUR. This old muzzle-chops should be he by the
fellow's deseription. — Save you, sir.

S. DAVY. Come hither, you mad varlets ; did not
my man tell you I watched lioro tor you?

CUR. One in a blue coat,1 sir, told us, that in this
place an old gentleman would watch for us ; a thing
contrary to our oath, for we are to watch for every
wickod member in a city.

S. DAVY. You'll watch then for ten thousand :
what's thy name, honesty ?

CUR. Sergeant Curtleav I, sir.

S. DAVY. An excellent name for a sergeant, Cur-

tleax :

Sergeants indeed are weapons of the law ;
When prodigal ruffians far in debt are grown,
Should not you cut them, citi/.eus were o'oi thrown.
Thon dwell'st hereby in I lolborn, Curtleax ?

CUR. That's my circuit, sir; I conjure most in
that cirele.

S. DAVY. And what young toward whelp is this?

HAN. Of the same litter ; his yeoman, sir ; my
name's Hanger.

S. DAVY. Yeoman Hanger :
One pair of shears sure out out both your coats;
You have two names most dangerous to men's
throats ;

k sprites] DM ril. " spirits."
1 blue cwtt\ Siv note, i>. -<i.

502 THE ROARING GIRL.

You two are villanous loads on gentlemen's backs ;
Dear ware this Hanger and this Curtleax !

CUR. We are as other men are, sir ; I cannot see
but he who makes a shew of honesty and religion,
if his claws can fasten to his liking, he draws blood :
all that live in the world are but great fish and little
fish, and feed upon one another ; some eat up whole
men, a sergeant cares but for the shoulder of a man.
They call us knaves and curs ; but many times he
that sets us on worries more lambs one year than
we do in seven.

S. DAVY. Spoke like a noble Cerberus ! is the
action entered ?

HAN. His name is entered in the book of unbe
lievers.

S. DAVY. What book's that ?

CUR. The book where all prisoners' names stand ;
and not one amongst forty, when he comes in, be
lieves to come out in haste.

S. DAVY. Be as dogged to him as your office
allows you to be.

BOTH. O sir !

S. DAVY. You know the unthrift, Jack Dapper ?

CUR. Ay, ay, sir, that gull, as well as I know my
yeoman.

S. DAVY. And you know his father too, sir Davy
Dapper ?

CUR. As damned a usurer as ever was among
Jews : if he were sure his father's skin would yield
him any money, he would, when he dies, flay it off,
and sell it to cover drums for children at Bartho
lomew fair.

S. DAVY. What toads are these to spit poison
on a man to his face ! \_Aside.~] — Do you see,
my honest rascals ? yonder Greyhound is the dog
he hunts with ; out of that tavern Jack Dapper

THE ROARING GIRL. 503

will sally : sa, sa ; give the counter ; on, set upon
him !

BOTH. We'll charge him upo' th' back, sir.

S. DAVY. Take no bail ; put macem enough into
his caudle ; double your files, traverse your ground.

BOTH. Brave, sir.

S. DAVY. Cry arm, arm, arm !

BOTH. Thus, sir.

S. DAVY. There, boy, there, boy ! away : look
to your prey, my true English wolves ; and so I
vanish. [Exit.

CUR. Some warden of the sergeants begat this
old fellow, upon my life : stand close.

HAN. Shall the ambuscado lie in one place ?

CUR. No; nook thou yonder. [They retire.

Enter MOLL and TRAPDOOR.

MOLL. Ralph.

TRAP. What says my brave captain male and
female ?

MOLL. This Holborn is such a wrangling street !

TRAP. That's because lawyers walk" to and fro
in't.

MOLL. Here's such jostling, as if every one we
met were drunk and reeled.

TRAP. Stand, mistress ! do you not smell carrion?

MOLL. Carrion ? no ; yet I spy ravens.

TRAP. Some poor, wind-shaken gallant will anon
fall into sore labour, and these men-midwives0 must
bring him to bed i' the counter: there all those that
are great with child with debts lie in.

m mace} See note, p. 372. n walk'] Old ed, " walkes."

0 these men-widwives, &c.] So in The Whore of Babylon, 1607,
by Dekker (see note, p. 490) : " Doe not you know, rnistresse,
what Serieants are ? . . . why they are certaine men-midwiues,
that neuer bring people to bed, but when they are sore in labour,
that no body els can deliuer them." Sig. D.

504 THE ROARING GIRL.

MOLL. Stand up.

TRAP. Like your new Maypole.

HAN, Whist, whew !

CUR. Hump, no.

MOLL. Peeping ? it shall go hard, huntsmen, but
I'll spoil your game. They look for all the world
like two infected malt-men coming muffled up in
their cloaks in a frosty morning to London.

TRAP. A course, captain ; a bear comes to the
stake.

Enter JACK DAPPER and GULL.

MOLL. It should be so, for the dogs struggle to
be let loose.

HAN. Whew!

CUR. Hemp.

MOLL. Hark, Trapdoor, follow your leader.

J. DAP. Gull.

GULL. Master ?

J. DAP. Didst ever see such an ass as I am, boy ?

GULL. No, by my troth, sir ; to lose all your
money, yet have false dice of your own ; why, 'tis
as I saw a great fellow used t'other day ; he had a
fair sword and buckler, and yet a butcher dry beat
him with a cudgel.

TRAP.° Honest servant, fly !

MOLL. Fly, master Dapper ! you'll be arrested
else.

J. DAP. Run, Gull, and draw.

GULL. Run, master ; Gull follows you.

[Exeunt DAPPER and GULL.

CUR. [MoLL holding him] I know you well enough ;
you're but a whore to hang upon any man !

MOLL. Whores, then, are like sergeants ; so now

0 Trap. Honest servant, &c.] Old ed. "BOTH. Honest Ser-
ieantfly,flie Maister Dapper" &c.

THE ROARING GIRL. 505

hang you. — Draw, rogue, but strike not : for a
broken pate they'll keep their beds, and recover
twenty marks P damages.

CUR. You shall pay for this rescue. — Run down
Shoe Lane and meet him.

TRAP. Shu ! is this a rescue, gentlemen, or no ?

MOLL. Rescue ? a pox on 'em ! Trapdoor, let's
away ; [Exeunt CURTLEAX and HANGER.
I'm glad I've done perfect one good work to-day.
If any gentleman be in scrivener's bands,
Send but for Moll, she'll bail him by these hands.

\_Exeunt.

ACT IV. SCENE I.

A Room in SIR ALEX. WENGRAVE'S House.
Enter SIR ALEX. WENGRAVE.

S. ALEX. Unhappy in the follies of a son,
Led against judgment, sense, obedience,
And all the powers of nobleness and wit !

Enter TRAPDOOR.

O wretched father! — Now, Trapdoor, will she come?

TRAP. In man's apparel, sir ; I'm in her heart

now,
And share in all her secrets.

S. ALEX. Peace, peace, peace !
Here, take my German watch,4 hang't up in sight,
That I may see her hang in English for't.

TRAP. I warrant you for that now, next sessions
rids her, sir. This watch will bring her in better
than a hundred constables. [Hangs up the watch.

P marks'] See note, p. 226.
i my German watcli] See note, p. 385.
VOL. II. X X

506 THE ROARING GIRL.

S. ALEX. Good Trapdoor, sayst thou so ? thou

cheer'st my heart

After a storm of sorrow. My gold chain too ;
Here, take a hundred marks1" in yellow links.

TRAP. That will do well to bring the watch to

light, sir ;

And worth a thousand of your headborough's lan
terns.

S. ALEX. Place that a' the court-cupboard ;s let

it lie
Full in the view of her thief- whorish eye.

TRAP. She cannot miss it, sir ; I see't so plain,
That I could steal't myself. [Places the chain.

S. ALEX. Perhaps thou shalt too,
That or something as weighty : what she leaves
Thou shalt come closely in and filch away,
And all the weight upon her back I'll lay.

TRAP. You cannot assure that, sir.

S. ALEX. No ? what lets1 it ?

TRAP. Being a stout girl, perhaps she'll desire

pressing ;
Then all the weight must lie upon her belly.

S. ALEX. Belly or back I care not, so I've one.

TRAP. You're of my mind for that, sir.

S. ALEX. Hang up my ruff-band with the dia
mond at it ;
It may be she'll like that best.

TRAP. It's well for her, that she must have her
choice ; he thinks nothing too good for her.
[_Aside.~] — If you hold on this mind a little longer,
it shall be the first work I do to turn thief myself;

r marks'] See note, p. 226.

8 court-cupboard] i. e. a moveable sideboard, or buffet, for
displaying plate or other valuables : it $as also called " cup
board of plate," see p. 91.

1 lets'] i. e. hinders.

THE ROARING GIRL. 507

['t] would do a man good to be hanged when he is

so well provided for. [Hangs up the ruff-band.

S. ALEX. So, well said ; all hangs well : would

she hung so too !
The sight would please me more than all their glis-

terings.

O that my mysteries11 to such straits should run,
That I must rob myself to bless my son ! [Exeunt.

Enter SEBASTIAN WENGRAVE, MARY FITZALLARD dis
guised as a Page, and MOLL in her male dress.

SEE. Thou'st done me a kind office, without

touch
Either of sin or shame ; our loves are honest.

MOLL. I'd scorn to make such shift to bring you
together else.

SEE. Now have I time and opportunity
Without all fear to bid thee welcome, love !

\_Kisses MARY.

MARY. Never with more desire and harder ven
ture !
MOLL. How strange this shews, one man to kiss

another !

SEE. I'd kiss such men to choose, Moll ;
Methinks a woman's lip tastes well in a doublet.
MOLL. Many an old madam has the better for
tune then,

Whose breaths grew stale before the fashion came :
If that will help 'em, as you think 'twill do,
They'll learn in time to pluck on the hosev too.
SEE. The older they wax, Moll, troth I speak

seriously,
As some have a conceit their drink tastes better

u mysteries] i. e. arts : but qy. " miseries ? "
v hose] i. e. breeches.

508 THE ROARING GIRL.

In an outlandish cup than in our own,
So methinks every kiss she gives me now
In this strange form is worth a pair of two
Here we are safe, and furthest from the eye
Of all suspicion ; this is my father's chamber,
Upon which floor he never steps till night :
Here he mistrusts me not, nor I his coming ;
At mine own chamber he still pries unto me,
My freedom is not there at mine own finding,
Still check'd and curb'd ; here he shall miss his
purpose.

MOLL. And what's your business, now you have

your mind, sir ?

At your great suit I promis'd you to come :
I pitied her for name's sake, that a Moll
Should be so crost in love, when there's so many
That owev nine laysw a-piece, and not so little.
My tailor fitted her ; how like you his work ?

SEE. So well, no art can mend it, for this pur
pose :

But to thy wit and help we're chief in debt,
And must live still beholding.x

MOLL. Any honest pity
I'm willing to bestow upon poor ring-doves.

SEE. I'll offer no worse play.

MOLL. Nay, and? you should, sir,
I should draw first, and prove the quicker man.

SEE. Hold, there shall need no weapon at this

meeting ;

But 'cause thou shalt not loose thy fury idle,
Here take this viol, run upon the guts,
And end thy quarrel singing.

[Takes down, and gives her, a viol.

v owe\ Old ed. " owes." w lays'] i. e. wagers.

x beholding} See note, vol. i. p. 441.
y and} i. e. if,

THE ROARING GIRL. 509

MOLL. Like a swan above bridge ;z
For look you here's the bridge, and here am I.

SEE. Hold on, sweet Moll !

MARY. I've heard her much commended, sir, for

one
That was ne'er taught.

MOLL. I'm much beholding to 'em.
Well, since you'll needs put us together, sir,
I'll play my part as well as I can : it shall ne'er
Be said I came into a gentleman's chamber,
And let his instrument hang by the walls.

SEE. Why, well said, Moll, i' faith ; it had been
a shame for that gentleman then that would have
let it hung still, and ne'er offered thee it.

MOLL. There it should have been still then for

Moll;

For though the world judge impudently of me,
I never came into that chamber yet
Where I took down the instrument myself.

SEE. Pish, let 'em prate abroad ; thou'rt here
where thou art known and loved ; there be a thou
sand close dames that will call the viola an unman
nerly instrument for a woman, and therefore talk
broadly of thee, when you shall have them sit wider
to a worse quality.

MOLL. Push,b

I ever fall asleep and think not of 'em, sir;
And thus I dream.

SEE. Prithee, let's hear thy dream, Moll.

MOLL [sings'].

I dream there is a mistress,
And she lays out the money ;

1 swan above bridge] When this play was written, the Thames
abounded with swans.

a the viol, &c.] See note, p. 11.
b Push'] See note, vol. i. p. 29.

510 THE ROARING GIRL.

She goes unto her sisters,
She never comes at any.

Re-enter SIR ALEXANDER behind.

She says she went to tti Bur sec for patterns ;
You shall jind her at Saint Kathern's,

And comes home with never a penny.
SEE. That's a free mistress, faith !
S. ALEX. Ay, ay, ay,

Like her that sings it ; one of thine own choosing.

[Aside.

MOLL. But shall I dream again ?
\_Sings.~\ Here comes a wench mil brave ye ;

Her courage was so great,
She lay with one o' the navy,

Her husband lying i' the Fleet.
Yet oft with him she cavell'd;d

I wonder what she ails :
Her husband's ship lay gravelVd,

When her's could hoise up sails :
Yet she began, like all my foes,
To call whore Jirst; for so do those —

A pox of all false tails !
SEE. Marry, amen, say I !

S. ALEX. So say I too. [Aside.

MOLL. Hang up the viol now, sir : all this while
I was in a dream ; one shall lie rudely then ;
But being awake, I keep my legs together.
A watch ? what's a' clock here ?

S. ALEX. Now, now she's trapt! [Aside.

MOLL. Between6 one and two ; nay, then I care

c th1 Burse] i. e. the New Exchange in the Strand. " Over
this building, in the time of Middleton, were many shops
where women's finery was sold." _STEEVENS.

d cavelVd~\ So spelt in old ed. for the sake of the rhyme.

e Between, &c.] The old ed. gives this speech partly as

THE ROARING GIRL. 511

not. A watch and a musician are cousin-germans

in one thing, they must both keep time well, or

there's no goodness in 'em ; the one else deserves

to be dashed against a wall, and t'other to have his

brains knocked out with a fiddle-case.

What ! a loose chain and a dangling diamond?

Here were a brave booty for an evening thief now :

There's many a younger brother would be glad

To look twice in at a window for't,

And wriggle in and out, like an eel in a sand-bag.

O, if men's secret youthful faults should judge 'em,

'Twould be the general'st execution

That e'er was seen in England!

There would be but few left to sing the ballads,

There would be so much work: most of our brokers

Would be chosen for hangmen ; a good day for

them ;
They might renew their wardrobes of free cost then.

SEB. This is the roaring wench must do us good.

MARY. No poison, sir, but serves us for some

use ;
Which is confirm'd in her.

SEB. Peace, peace —
'Foot, I did hear him sure, where'er he be.

MOLL. Who did you hear ?

SEB. My father ;
'Twas like a sighf of his : I must be wary.

S.ALEX. No? wilt not be? am I alone so

wretched

That nothing takes ? I'll put him to his plunge* for't.

{Aside.

prose, partly as verse. I have done what I could to arrange
the lines.

{ sigh] Old ed. " sight," — which, perhaps, Middleton wrote ;
for I think I have seen that form of the word. The preterite
of the verb sigh was often written sight.

« plunge] i. e. difficulty, straits.

512 THE ROARING GIRL.

SEE. Life! here he comes. — Sir, I beseech you

take it ;

Your way of teaching does so much content me,
I'll make it four pound ; here's forty shillings,

sir —

I think I name it right — help me, good Moll-
Forty in hand. [Offering money.

MOLL. Sir, you shall pardon me :
I've more of the meanest scholar I can teach ;
This pays me more than you have offer'd yet.

SEE. At the next quarter,
When I receive the means my father 'lows me,
You shall have t'other forty.

S. ALEX. This were well now,
Were't to a man whose sorrows had blind eyes ;
But mine behold his follies and untruths
With two clear glasses. [Aside — then coming for-

wardJ] How now ?
SEE. Sir?

S. ALEX. What's he there ?
SEE. You're come in good time, sir; I've a suit

to you ;

I'd crave your present kindness.
S. ALEX. What's he there ?

SEE. A gentleman, a musician, sir ; one of ex
cellent fingering.

S. ALEX. Ay, I think so; — I wonder how they
'scap'd her. \_Aside.

SEE. Has the most delicate stroke, sir.
S. ALEX. A stroke indeed ! — I feel it at my heart.

{Aside.

SEE. Puts down all your famous musicians.
S. ALEX. Ay, — a whore may put down a hun
dred of 'em. [Aside.
SEE. Forty shillings is the agreement, sir, be
tween us :

THE ROARING GIRL. 513

Now, sir, my present means mounts but to half

on't.

S. ALEX. And he stands upon the whole ?
SEE. Ay, indeed does he, sir.
S. ALEX. And will do still ; he'll ne'er be in other

tale.
SEE. Therefore I'd stop his mouth, sir, andg I

could.

S. ALEX* Hum, true ; there is no other way in
deed ; —
His folly hardens, shame must needs succeed. —

[Aside.
Now, sir, I understand you profess music.

MOLL. I'm a poor servant to that liberal science,

sir.

S. ALEX. Where is't you teach ?
MOLL. Right against Clifford's Inn.
S. ALEX. Hum, that's a fit place for't : you've

many scholars ?
MOLL. And some of worth, whom I may call my

masters.

S. ALEX. Ay, true, a company of whoremasters.

[Aside.

You teach to sing too ?
MOLL. Marry, do I, sir.
S. ALEX. I think you'll find an apt scholar of my

son,
Especially for prick-song.

MOLL. I've much hope of him.
S. ALEX. I'm sorry for't, I have the less for that.

[Aside.

You can play any lesson ?
MOLL. At first sight, sir.

S. ALEX. There's a thing call'd the Witch ; can
you play that ?

s and~] i. e. if.

514 THE ROARING GIRL.

MOLL. I would be sorry any one should mend
me in't.

S. ALEX. Ay, I believe thee ; thou'st so bewitch'd

my son,

No care will mend the work that thou hast done.
I have bethought myself, since my art fails,
I'll make her policy the art to trap her.
Here are four angels h mark'd with holes in them
Fit for his crack'd companions : gold he'll give her ;
These will I make induction to her ruin,
And rid shame from my house, grief from my heart.

[Aside.

Here, son, in what you take content and pleasure,
Want shall not curb you ; pay the gentleman
His latter half in gold. [Gives money.

SEE. I thank you, sir.

S. ALEX. O may the operation on't end three ;
In her, life, shame in him, and grief in me !

[Aside, and exit.

SEE. Faith, thou shalt have 'em ; 'tis my father's

gift:
Never was man beguil'd with better shift.

MOLL. He that can take me for a male musician,
I can't choose but make him my instrument,
And play upon him. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Before GALLIPOT'S Shop.

Enter MISTRESS GALLIPOT and MISTRESS OPEN
WORK.

Mis. G. Is, then, that bird of yours, master Gos
hawk, so wild ?

h angels'] See note, vol. i. p. 250.

THE ROARING GIRL. 515

Mis. O. A Goshawk ? a puttock ;' all for prey :
he angles for fish, but he loves flesh better.

Mis. G. Is't possible his smooth face should have
wrinkles in't, and we not see them ?

Mis. O. Possible ? why, have not many hand
some legs in silk stockings villanous splay feet, for
all their great roses V

Mis. G. Troth, sirrah,k thou sayst true.

Mis. O. Didst never see an archer, as thou'st
walked by Bunhill, look a-squint when he drew his
bow?

Mis. G. Yes, when his arrows have fline1 to
ward Islington, his eyes have shot clean contrary
towards Pimlico.

Mis. O. For all the world so does master Gos
hawk double with me.

Mis. G. O, fie upon him ! if he double once, he's
not for me.

Mis. O. Because Goshawk goes in a shag-ruff
band, with a face sticking up in't which shews like
an agate set in a cramp ring,m he thinks I'm in love
with him.

Mis. G. 'Las, I think he takes his mark amiss in
thee !

Mis. O. He has, by often beating into me, made
me believe that my husband kept a whore.

1 puttock'] i. e. a kite.

i roses] " i. e. roses anciently worn in shoes." STEEVENS.
They were made of ribbons gathered into a knot, and were
sometimes of a preposterous size.

k sirrah] See note, p. 491.

1 fline] i. e. flown.

m a cramp ring] i. e. a ring, which having been solemnly
consecrated on Good Friday, was supposed to have the power
of preventing the cramp. See in Waldron's Literary Museum,
] 792, a reprint of The Ceremonies of Blessing Cramp-Rings on
Good Friday, used by the Catholick Kings of England.

516 THE ROARING GIRL.

Mis. G. Very good.

Mis. O. Swore to me that my husband this very
morning went in a boat, with a tilt over it, to the
Three Pigeons" at Brainford, and his punk with
him under his tilt.

Mis. G. That were wholesome.

Mis. O. I believed it ; fell a-swearing at him,
cursing of harlots ; made me ready to hoise up sail
and be there as soon as he.

Mis. G. So, so.

Mis. O. And for that voyage Goshawk comes
hither incontinently:0 but, sirrah, this water-spa
niel dives after no duck but me ; his hope is having
me at Brainford, to make me cry quack.

Mis. G. Art sure of it ?

Mis. O. Sure of it ? my poor innocent Openwork
came in as I was poking my ruff ;P presently hit I
him i' the teeth with the Three Pigeons ; he for
swore all, I up and opened all ; and now stands he
in a shop hard by, like a musket on a rest,** to hit
Goshawk i' the eye, when he comes to fetch me to
the boat.

Mis. G. Such another lame gelding offered to
carry me through thick and thin, — Laxton, sirrah,
— but I am rid of him now.

Mis. O. Happy is the woman can be rid of 'em
all ! 'las, what are your whisking gallants to our
husbands, weigh 'em rightly, man for man ?

Mis. G. Troth, mere shallow things.

Mis. O. Idle, simple things, running heads ; and

n Three Pigeons] See note, p. 479.

0 incontinently] i. e. immediately.

v poking^ my ruff] See note, vol. i. p. 279.

1 rest] i. e. a support, — without it the soldiers could not
manage to fire the old muskets, which were very heavy and
unwieldy.

THE ROARING GIRL. 517

yet let 'em run over us never so fast, we shop
keepers, when all's done, are sure to have 'em in
our pursenetsr at length; and when they are in,
lord, what simple animals they are ! then they hang
the head

Mis. G. Then they droop

Mis. O. Then they write letters

Mis. G. Then they cog8 —

Mis. O. Then deal they underhand with us, and
we must ingle* with our husbands a-bed ; and we
must swear they are our cousins, and able to do us
a pleasure at court.

'Mis. G. And yet, when we have done our best,
all's but put into a riven dish ;u we are but frumpedv
at and libelled upon.

Mis. O. O, if it were the good Lord's will there
were a law made, no citizen should trust any of
'em all !

Enter GOSHAWK.

Mis. G. Hush, sirrah ! Goshawk flutters.

Gos. How now ? are you ready ?

Mis. O. Nay, are you ready ? a little thing, you
see, makes us ready.

Gos. Us ? why, must she make one i' the voyage ?

Mis. O. O, by any means ! do I know how my
husband will handle me ?

Gos. 'Foot, how shall I find water to keep these
two mills going ? [Aside.'} — Well, since you'll needs
be clapped under hatches, if I sail not with you both

r pursenets] i. e. nets, the mouths of which were drawn to
gether by a string.

• cog] i. e. lie, wheedle. * ingle] i. e. coax.

u a riven dish] " i. e. a broken dish." REED.
v frumped] i. e. mocked.

VOL. II. Y Y

518 THE ROARING GIRL.

till all split,w hang me up at the mainyard and duck
me. — It's but liquoring them both soundly, and
then you shall see their cork-heels fly up high, like
two swans when their tails are above water, and
their long necks under water diving to catch gud
geons. \_Aside.~] — Come, come, oars stand ready ;
the tide's with us ; on with those false faces ; blow
winds, and thou shalt take thy husband casting out
his net to catch fresh salmon at Brainford.x

Mis. G. I believe you'll eat of a cod's head of
your own dressing before you reach half way
thither.

[Aside — She and MISTRESS O. mask themselves.

Gos. So, so, follow close ; pin as you go.

Enter LAXTON muffled.

LAX. Do you hear ?

Mis. G. Yes, I thank my ears.

LAX. I must have a bout with your 'pothecaryship.

Mis. G. At what weapon ?

LAX. I must speak with you.

Mis. G. No.

LAX. No ? you shall.

Mis. G. Shall? away, souced sturgeon ! half fish,
half flesh.

LAX. Faith, gib,? are you spitting ? I'll cut your
tail, puss-cat, for this.

w till all split] " This expression occurs in many old plays.
See the notes of Dr. Farmer, Mr. Steevens, and Mr. Malone,
on Midsummer Night's Dream, act i. sc. 2." REED. It occurs
in several old plays at least; and (as Nares observes in Gloss.)
denotes violence of action.

x Brainford] See note, p. 463.

y gib~\ Is, properly, a male cat — but sometimes applied, as
a term of reproach, to a woman : " She is a tonnysh gyb,"
says old Skelton, in Elynour Rummyng, v. 99.

THE ROARING GIRL. 519

Mis. G. 'Las, poor Laxton, I think thy tail's cut
already ! your worst.

LAX. If I do not [Exit.

Gos. Come, ha' you done ?

Enter OPENWORK.
'S foot, Rosamond, your husband !

OPEN. How now ? sweet master Goshawk ! none

more welcome ;

I've wanted your embracements : when friends meet,
The music of the spheres sounds not more sweet
Than does their conference. Who's this ? Rosa
mond ?
Wife ? how now, sister ?

Gos. Silence, if you love me !

OPEN. Whymask'd?

Mis. O. Does a mask grieve you, sir ?

OPEN. It does.

Mis. O. Then you're best get you a mumming.21

Gos. 'Sfoot, you'll spoil all !

Mis. G. May not we cover our bare faces with

masks,
As well as you cover your bald heads with hats ?

OPEN. No masks ; why they're thieves to beauty,

that rob eyes

Of admiration in which true love lies.
Why are masks worn ? why good ? or why desir'd ?
Unless by their gay covers wits are fir'd
To read the vildesta looks : many bad faces,
Because rich gems are treasur'd up in cases,
Pass by their privilege current ; but as caves
Damn misers' gold, so masks are beauties' graves.

z a mumming'] i. e. a masquing, in which originally the per
formers used gesticulation only, without speaking : mistress
Openwork puns on the different meanings of mask and masque.

a vildesf] i. e. vilest: see note, p. 393.

520 THE ROARING GIRL.

Men ne'er meet women with such muffled eyes,
But they curse her that first did masks devise,
And swear it was some beldam. Come, off with't.

Mis. O. I will not.

OPEN. Good faces mask'd are jewels kept by

sprites ; b
Hide none but bad ones, for they poison men's

sights ;

Shew, then, as shopkeepers do their broider'd stuff,
By owl-light ; fine wares can't be open enough.
Prithee, sweet Rose, come, strike this sail.

Mis. O. Sail?

OPEN. Ha!
Yes, wife, strike sail, for storms are in thine eyes.

Mis. O. They're here, sir, in my brows, if any rise.

OPEN. Ha, brows ? — What says she, friend ?

pray, tell me why

Your two flags0 were advanc'd ; the comedy,
Come, what's the comedy ?

Mis. G.d Westward Ao.e

OPEN. How ?

Mis. O. Tis Westward ho, she says.

Gos. Are you both mad ?

Mis. O. Is't market-day at Brainford, and your

ware
Not sent up yet ?

b sprites'] Old ed. " spirits."

c Your two flags'] " Alluding to the flags which were placed
formerly on the tops of playhouses." REED.

d Mis. G.~] Old ed. " Mist. Open."

e Westward ho~] A comedy, by Dekker and Webster, which
was first printed in 1607, and which may be found in my
edition of Webster's Works, vol. iii. The scene lies partly in
London and partly in Brentford ; and a " western voyage"
from the former to the latter place gives the title to the play
— westward ho ! being one of the exclamations used by the
watermen who plied on the Thames.

THE ROARING GIRL. 521

OPEN. What market-day ? what ware ?

Mis. O. A pie with three pigeons in't : 'tis drawn,
And stays your cutting up.

Gos. As you regard my credit

OPEN. Art' mad?

Mis. O. Yes, lecherous goat, baboon !

OPEN. Baboon ? then toss me in a blanket.

Mis. O. Do I it well ?

Mis. G. Rarely.

Gos. Belike, sir, she's not well ; best leave her.

OPEN. No ;
I'll stand the storm now, how fierce soe'er it blow.

Mis. O. Did I for this lose all my friends, refuse
Rich hopes and golden fortunes, to be made
A stale f to a common whore ?

OPEN. This does amaze me.

Mis. O. O God, O God ! feed at reversion now ?
A strumpet's leaving ?

OPEN. Rosamond !

Gos. I sweat ; would I lay in Cold Harbour ! &

[Aside.

Mis. O. Thou'st struck ten thousand daggers
through my heart !

OPEN. Not I, by heaven, sweet wife !

Mis. O. Go, devil, go ; that which thou swear'st
by damns thee !

Gos. 'S heart, will you undo me ?

Mis. O. Why stay you here ? the star by which
you sail

* A stale, &c.] i. e. a pretence or cover under which he
keeps a harlot: the stale, or stalking-horse, was the real or
artificial horse behind which sportsmen approached their
game.

£ Cold Harbour'] See note, p. 58. — Nares (Gloss.), citing
the present passage, says, that Cold Harbour " seems to be
used as a kind of metaphorical term for the grave."

,522 THE ROARING GIRL.

Shines yonder above Chelsea ; you lose your shore ;
If this moon light you, seek out your light whore.

OPEN. Ha!

Mis. G. Push,h your western pug I1

Gos. Zounds, now hell roars !

Mis. O. With whom you tilted in a pair of oars
This very morning.

OPEN. Oars?

Mis. O. At Brainford, sir.

OPEN. Rack not my patience. — Master Goshawk,
Some slave has buzz'd this into her, has he not ?
I run a tilt in Brainford with a woman ?
Tis a lie !
What old bawd tells thee this ? 's death, 'tis a lie !

Mis. O. 'Tis one [who] to thy face shall justify
All that I speak.

OPEN. Ud'soul, do but name that rascal !

Mis. O. No, sir, I will not.

Gos. Keep thee there, girl, then ! [Aside.

OPEN.J Sister, know you this varlet ?

Mis. G. Yes.

OPEN. Swear true ;

Is there a rogue so low damn'd ? a second Judas ? —
A common hangman, cutting a man's throat,
Does it to his face, — bite me behind my back ?
A cur dog ? swear if you know this hell-hound.

Mis. G. In truth, I do.

OPEN. His name ?

h Push] See note, vol. i. p. 29.

1 western pug'] " I doubt the sand-eyde asse will kicke like
a Westerne Pugge, if I rubbe him on the gall." Greene's
Theeves falling out, &c., sig. c, ed. 1637. — " In so much that
[during the plague] euen the Westerne Pugs receiuing mony
here, have tyed it in a bag at the end of their barge, and so
trailed it through the Thames," &c. Dekker's Wonderfull
Yeare, 1603, sig. F 3.

J Open.] Old ed. " Mist. Open."

THE ROARING GIRL. 523

Mis. G. Not for the world ;
To have you to stab him.

Gos. O brave girls, worth gold ! k [Aside.

OPEN. A word, honest master Goshawk.

[Drawing his srvord.

Gos. What do you mean, sir ?

OPEN. Keep off, and if the devil can give a name
To this new fury, holla it through my ear,
Or wrap it up in some hid character.
I'll ride to Oxford, and watch out mine eyes,
But I will hear the Brazen Head1 speak, or else
Shew me but one hair of his head or beard,
That I may sample it. If the fiend I meet
In mine own house, I'll kill him ; [in] the street,
Or at the church-door, — there, 'cause he seeks t'

untie
The knot God fastens, he deserves most to die.

Mis. O. My husband titles him !

OPEN. Master Goshawk, pray, sir,
Swear to me that you know him, or know him not,
Who makes me at Brainford to take up a petticoat
Besides my wife's.

Gos. By heaven, that man I know not !

Mis. O. Come, come, you lie !

Gos. Will you not have all out ?
By heaven, I know no man beneath the moon

k brave girls, worth gold] The expression seems to have been
proverbial ; one of Heywood's plays is entitled The Fair Maid
of the West, or A Girle worth gold, 1631.

1 the Brazen Head~\ See Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay (first
printed in 1594) in my ed. of Greene's Dram. Works, and the
extract there given from the prose tract, The Famous Historie
of Friar Bacon (on which that play is founded), " How Fryer
Bacon made a Brazen Head to speake, by the which hee would
have walled England about with Brasse," vol. i. pp. 141, 215.
The friars lost all their labour through the folly of a servant
named Miles, who having been set to watch the Head while
they retired to rest, neglected to call them when at last it
spoke.

524 THE ROARING GIRL.

Should do you wrong, but if I had his name,
I'd print it in text letters.

Mis. O. Print thine own then :
Did'st not thou swear to me he kept his whore ?

Mis. G. And that in sinful Brainford they'd

commit
That which our lips did water at, sir, — ha?

Mis. O. Thou spider that hast woven thy cunning

web

In mine own house t' ensnare me ! hast not thou -
Suck'd nourishment even underneath this roof,
And turn'd it all to poison, spitting it
On thy friend's face, my husband, (he as 'twere

sleeping,)

Only to leave him ugly to mine eyes,
That they might glance on thee ?

Mis. G. Speak, are these lies ?

Gos. Mine own shame me confounds !

OPEN.™ No more ; he's stung.
Who'd think that in one body there could dwell
Deformity and beauty, lieaven and hell ?
Goodness I see is but outside ; we all set
In rings of gold stones that be counterfeit :
I thought you none.

Gos. Pardon me !

OPEN. Truth I do :

This blemish grows in nature, not in you ;
For man's creation stick[s] even moles in scorn
On fairest cheeks. — Wife, nothing's perfect born.

Mis. O. I thought you had been born perfect.

OPEN. What's this whole world but a gilt rotten

pill?

For at the heart lies the old core still.
I'll tell you, master Goshawk, ay, in your eye
I have seen wanton fire ; and then, to try

m Open.] Old ed. " Mist. Open."

THE ROARING GIRL. 525

The soundness of my judgment, I told you
I kept a whore, made you believe 'twas true, .
Only to feel how your pulse beat ; but find
The world can hardly yield a perfect friend.
Come, come, a trick of youth, and 'tis forgiven ;
This rub put by, our love shall run more even.

Mis. O. You'll deal upon men's wives no more ?

Gos. No ; you teach me
A trick for that.
. Mis. O. Troth, do not ; they'll o'erreach thee.

OPEN. Make my house yours, sir, still.

Gos. No.

OPEN. I say you shall :
Seeing thus besieg'd it holds out, 'twill never fall.

Enter GALLIPOT, followed by GREEN WIT disguised as
a sumner ;m and LAXTON muffled aloof ojf.n

5PEN' Oj How now?
Gos., #c.°J

GAL. With me, sir ?

GREEN. You, sir. I have gone snuffling? up and
down by your door this hour, to watch for you.

Mis. G. What's the matter, husband ?

GREEN. I have caught a cold in my head, sir, by
sitting up late in the Rose tavern ; but I hope you
understand my speech.

GAL. So, sir.

GREEN. I cite you by the name of Hippocrates
Gallipot, and you by the name of Prudence Gallipot,
to appear upon Crastino, — do you see? — Crastino
sancli Dunstani, this Easter term, in Bow Church.

m sumner'] See notes, pp. 29, 170.

n aloof off] See note, vol. i. p. 427.

0 Open. ~1 Old ed. here, and several times afterwards,

Gos., fyc.J " Omnes."
P snuffling] Old ed. " snafling;" but see his nftct speech.

[ A citation !
••)

526 THE ROARING GIRL,

GAL. Where, sir ? what says he ?

GREEN. Bow, Bow Church, to answer to a libel
of precontract on the part and behalf of the said
Prudence and another : you're best, sir, take a copy
of the citation, 'tis but twelvepence.

OPEN.

Cos.,

GAL. You pocky-nosed rascal, what slave fees
you to this ?

LAX. [coming forward^ Slave ? I ha' nothing to.
do with you ; do you hear, sir ?

Gos. Laxton, is't not ? What fagary<i is this ?

GAL. Trust me, I thought, sir, this storm long

ago

Had been full laid, when, if you be remember'd,r
I paid you the last fifteen pound, besides
The thirty you had first ; for then you swore

LAX. Tush, tush, sir, oaths, —
Truth, yet I'm loath to vex you — tell you what,
Make up the money I had an hundred pound,
And take your bellyful of her.

GAL. An hundred pound ?

Mis. G. What, a hundred pound ? he gets none :
what, a hundred pound ?

GAL. Sweet Pru, be calm ; the gentleman offers

thus :

If I will make the moneys that are past
A hundred pound, he will discharge all courts,
And give his bond never to vex us more.

Mis. G. A hundred pound ? 'Las, take, sir, but

threescore !
Do you seek my undoing ?

LAX. I'll not 'bate one sixpence. —
I'll maul you, puss, for spitting.

i fagary\ i. e. vagary.

r if you be remember d] i. e. if you recollect.

THE ROARING GIRL. 527

Mis. G. Do thy worst. —
Will fourscore stop thy mouth ?

LAX. No.

Mis. G. You're a slave ;

Thou cheat, I'll now tear money from thy throat. —
Husband, lay hold on yonder tawny-coat.8

GREEN. Nay, gentlemen, seeing your women are
so hot, I must lose my hair* in their company, I see.

[Takes off his false hair.

Mis. O. His hair sheds off, and yet he speaks
not so much in the nose as he did before.

Gos. He has had the better chirurgeon. — Master
Greenwit, is your wit so raw as to play no better
a part than a sumner's ?

GAL. I pray, who plays A knack to know an honest
man,u in this company?

Mis. G. Dear husband, pardon me, I did dis
semble,

Told thee I was his precontracted wife,
When letters came from him for thirty pound :
I had no shift but that.

GAL. A very clean shift,
But able to make me lousy : on.

Mis. G. Husband, I pluck'd,
When he had tempted me to think well of him,
Gelt feathers v from thy wings, to make him fly
More lofty.

8 tawny-coaf\ " Tawny was the usual dress of a summoner
or apparitor." REED.

* / must lose my hair, &c.] " Alluding to the consequences
of lewdness, one of which, in the first appearance of the dis
ease in Europe, was the loss of hair." REED.

u A knack to know an honest man] A Pleasant Conceited Co-
medie, called, A knacke to know an honest Man, As it hath beene
sundrie times plaied about the Citie of London, was printed in
1596, the author unknown.

T gelt feathers'] i. e. golden feathers. But I am by no

528 THE ROARING GIRL.

GAL. A' the top of you, wife : on.

Mis. G. He having wasted them, comes now for

more,

Using me as a ruffian doth his whore,
Whose sin keeps him in breath. By heaven, I vow,
Thy bed he ne'er wrong'd more than he does now !
GAL. My bed ? ha, ha ! like enough ; a shop-
board will serve

To have a cuckold's coat cut out upon :
Of that we'll talk hereafter. — You're a villain.
LAX. Hear me but speak, sir, you shall find me
none.

p *o fPray, sir, be patient, and hear him.

GAL. I'm muzzl'd for biting, sir ; use me how
you will.

LAX. The first hour that your wife was in my

eye,

Myself with other gentlemen sitting by
In your shop tasting smoke, and speech being us'd,
That men who've fairest wives are most abus'd,
And hardly scapev the horn, your wife maintain'd
That only such spots in city dames were stain'd
Justly but by men's slanders : for her own part,
She vow'd that you had so much of her heart,
No man, by all his wit, by any wile
Never so fine-spun, should yourself beguile
Of what in her was yours.

GAL. Yet, Pru, 'tis well. —
Play out your game at Irish,w sir : who wins ?

means confident that I have restored the right reading. Old
cd. " Get f ethers."

v scape] Old ed. " scapt."

w Irish] " Is a game which differs very slightly from back
gammon. The manner of playing it is described in The Corn-
pleat Gamester, 1680, p. 109." REED.

THE ROARING GIRL. 529

Mis. O. The trial is when she comes to bearing.w
LAX. I scorn'd one woman thus should brave all

men,

And, which more vex'd me, a she-citizen ;
Therefore I laid siege to her : out she held,
Gave many a brave repulse, and me compell'd
With shame to sound retreat to my hot lust :
Then, seeing all base desires rak'd up in dust,
And thatx to tempt her modest ears, I swore
Ne'er to presume again : she said, her eye
Would ever give me welcome honestly ;
And, since I was a gentleman, if't run low,
She would my state relieve, not to o'erthrow
Your own and hers : did so ; then seeing I wrought
Upon her meekness, me she set at nought ;
And yet to try if I could turn that tide,
You see what stream I strove with ; but, sir, I swear
By heaven, and by those hopes men lay up there,
I neither have nor had a base intent
To wrong your bed ! what's done, is merriment :
Your gold I pay back with this interest,
When I'd most power to do't, I wrong'd you least.
GAL. If this no gullery be, sir —

2PEN'o. JNo, no, on my life!
Cos., Sfc.)

GAL. Then, sir, I am beholden — not to you,

wife, —

But, master Laxton, to your want of doing
111, which it seems you have not. — Gentlemen,
Tarry and dine here all.

OPEN. Brother, we've a jest,
As good as yours, to furnish out a feast.

w bearing] " Bear as fast as you can ... when you come to
bearing, have a care," &c. The Compleat Gamester, pp. 155-G,
ed. 1674.

x And that, Sec.] A line preceding this one seems to have
dropt out: perhaps another is wanting after And yet to try, &c.
VOL. II. Z Z

530 THE ROARING GIRL.

GAL. We'll crown our table with't. — Wife, brag

no more
Of holding out : who most brags is most whore.

[Exeunt.

ACT V. SCENE I.

A Street.

Enter JACK DAPPER, MOLL, SIR BEAUTEOUS GANY
MEDE, and SIR THOMAS LONG.

J. DAP. But, prithee, master captain Jack, be
plain and perspicuous with me ; was it your Meg
of Westminster's courage^ that rescued me from
the Poultry puttocks2 indeed?

MOLL. The valour of my wit, I ensure you, sir,
fetched you off bravely, when you were i' the for
lorn hope among those desperates. Sir Beauteous
Ganymede here, and sir Thomas Long, heard that
cuckoo, my man Trapdoor, sing the note of your
ransom from captivity.

S. BEAU. Uds so, Moll, where's that Trapdoor ?

MOLL. Hanged, I think, by this time : a justice

y Meg of Westminster's courage'] Meg of Westminster, or
long Meg of Westminster, was a virago, of whom frequent
mention is made by our early dramatists ; and indeed, like
the heroine of the present piece, she had the honour of figuring
in a play called after her, in 1594 (see Malone's Shakespeare,
by Boswell, vol. iii. p. 304). At that period, however, she is
supposed to have been dead. She is introduced in an ante-
masque in B. Jonson's Fortunate Isles — Works, vol. viii. p. 79,
ed. Giff. A 4to tract, entitled The Life of Long Meg of West
minster : containing the mad merry prankes she played in her
life time", not onely in performing sundry quarrels with divers
i uffians about London ; but also how valiantly she behaued her
selfe in the warres of Bolloingne, was printed (perhaps not for
the first time) in 1635 ; and forms part of Miscellanea Antiqua
Anglicana, 1816, 4to.

1 puttocks 1 i. e. kites.

THE ROARING GIRL. 531

in this town, that speaks nothing but make a mitti
mus, away with him to Newgate, used that rogue like
a firework,* to run upon a line betwixt him and
me.

ALL. How, how ?

MOLL. Marry, to lay trains of villany to blow
up my life : I smelt the powder, spied what lin
stock5 gave fire to shoot against the poor captain
of the galley-foist,c and away slid I my man like a
shovel-board shilling.*1 He strouts6 up and down
the suburbs, I think, and eats up whores, feeds
upon a bawd's garbage.

S. THO. Sirrah, Jack Dapper

J. DAP. What sayst, Tom Long ?

S. THO. Thou hadst a sweet-faced boy, hail-fellow
with thee, to your little Gull : how is he spent ?

J. DAP. Troth, I whistled the poor little buzzard
off a' my fist, because, when he waited upon me at
the ordinaries, the gallants hit me i' the teeth still,
and said I looked like a painted alderman's tomb,
and the boy at my elbow like a death's head. —
Sirrah Jack, Moll

MOLL. What says my little Dapper ?

S. BEAU. Come, come ; walk and talk, walk and
talk.

8 like a firework, &c.] So Dekker (see notes, pp. 490, 503)
in his Whore of Babylon, 1607 ;

" Let vs behold these fire-workes, that must run
Vpon short lines of life " Sig E 4.

b linstock] Or lintstock — a stick with the match (the lint)
at one end of it, used in firing cannon.

c galley-foist] i. e. a long barge with oars : it frequently
means that of the lord mayor.

d shovel-board shilling] i. e. a shilling used at the game of
shovel-board, and which was always smooth, that it might
" slide away" easily.

e strouts] i. e. struts.

532 THE ROARING GIRL.

J. DAP. Moll and I'll be i' the midst.

MOLL. These knights shall have squires' places
belike then : well, Dapper, what say you ?

J. DAP. Sirrah captain, mad Mary, the gull my
own father, Dapper Sir Davy, laid these London
boot-halers,e the catchpolls, in ambush to set upon
me.

ALL. Your father ? away, Jack !

J. DAP. By the tassels of this handkercher, 'tis
true : and what was his warlike stratagem, think
you ? he thought, because a wicker cage tames a
nightingale, a lousy prison could make an ass of
me.

ALL. A nasty plot !

J. DAP. Ay, as though a Counter, which is a park
in which all the wild beasts of the city run head by
head, could tame me !

MOLL. Yonder comes my lord Noland.

Enter LORD NOLAND.

ALL. Save you, my lord.

L. NOL. Well met, gentlemen all. — Good sir Beau
teous Ganymede, sir Thomas Long, — and how does
master Dapper ?

J. DAP. Thanks, my lord.

MOLL. No tobacco, my lord ?

L. NOL. No, faith, Jack.

J. DAP. My lord Noland, will you go to Pimlico
with us ? we are making a boon voyage to that
nappy land of spice-cakes.

L. NOL. Here's such a merry ging,f I could find

e boot-halers] " Cotgrave explains Picoreur to be 'a boot-
Jialer (in a friend's country), a ravening or filching souldier.' "
REED. Freebooters, plunderers, holers of boot (profit), or
booty.

{ ging] i. e. gang. " This substitution of i for a," says Gif-
ford, in a note on the word, " was common in our author's

THE ROARING GIRL. 533

in my heart to sail to the world's end with such
company : come, gentlemen, let's on.

J. DAP. Here's most amorous weather, my lord.

ALL. Amorous weather ! \_Theywalk.

J. DAP. Is not amorous a good word ?

Enter TRAPDOOR disguised as a poor soldier with a
patch over one eye, and TEARCAT all in tatters.

TRAP. Shall we set upon the infantry, these troops
of foot ? Zounds, yonder comes Moll, my whorish
master and mistress ! would I had her kidneys be
tween my teeth !

TEAR. I had rather have a cow-heel.

TRAP. Zounds, I am so patched up, she cannot
discover me : we'll on.

TEAR. Alia corago* then !

TRAP. Good your honours and worships, enlarge
the ears of commiseration, and let the sound of a
hoarse military organ-pipe penetrate your pitiful
bowels, to extract out of them so many small drops
of silver as may give a hard straw-bed lodging to
a couple of maimed soldiers.

J. DAP. Where are you maimed ?

TEAR. In both our nether limbs.

MOLL. Come, come, Dapper, let's give 'em some
thing : 'las, poor men ! what money have you ? by
my troth, I love a soldier with my soul.

S. BEAU. Stay, stay ; where have you served ?

S. THO. In any part of the Low Countries ?

TRAP. Not in the Low Countries, if it please your
manhood, but in Hungary against the Turk at the
siege of Belgrade.

days." B. Jonson's Works, vol. iv. p. 161. But the fact is,
ging is of great antiquity : " The gouernour of this gyng."
Gawayn and the Green "Knight, MS. Cott. Nero A. X. fol. 94.
£ corago~] " A corruption of coraggio, Ital." COLLIER.

534 THE ROARING GIRL.

L. NOL. Who served there with you, sirrah ?

TRAP. Many Hungarians, Moldavians, Vallachi-
ans, and Transylvanians, with some Sclavonians ;
and retiring home, sir, the Venetian galleys took us
prisoners, yet freed us, and suffered us to beg up
and down the country.

J. DAP. You have ambled all over Italy, then ?

TRAP. O sir, from Venice to Roma, Vecchia,
Bononia,f Romagna, Bologna, Modena, Piacenza, and
Tuscana, with all her cities, as Pistoia, Volterra,?
Montepulciano, Arezzo ; with the Siennois, and
divers others.

MOLL. Mere rogues ! put spurs to 'em once
more.

J. DAP. Thou lookest like a strange creature, a
fat butter -box, yet speakest English: what art
thou ?

TEAR. Ich, mine here ? ich bin den ruffling Tear-
cat, den brave soldado ; ich bin dorich all Dutchlant
gereisen ; der schellum das meer me beasa me woert
gaeb, ich slaag urn stroakes on torn cop ; dastich den
hundred touzun divel halle, frollich, mine here.

S. BEAU. Here, here; let's be rid of their job-
bering.h [About to give money.

MOLL. Not a cross,1 sir Beauteous. — You base
rogues, I have taken measure of you better than a
tailor can ; and I'll fit you, as you, monster with
one eye, have fitted me.

TRAP. Your worship will not abuse a soldier ?

MOLL. Soldier ? thou deservest to be hanged up
by that tongue which dishonours so noble a pro-

f Bononia . . . Bologna} One and the same place !
e Volterrd] Old ed, " Valteria."
b jobbering] i. e. jabbering.

1 Not a cross] i. e. not a penny. — Cross, a piece of money,
many coins having a cross on one side.

THE ROARING GIRL. 535

fession : soldier ? you skelderingJ varlet ! hold,
stand ; there should be a trapdoor here abouts.

[Pulls off his patch.

TRAP. The balls of these glasiersk of mine, mine
eyes, shall be shot up and down in any hot piece of
service for my invincible mistress.

J. DAP. I did not think there had been such
knavery in black patches1 as now I see.

MOLL. O sir, he hath been brought up in the
Isle of Dogs,m and can both fawn like a spaniel, and
bite like a mastiff, as he finds occasion.

L. NOL. What are you, sirrah ? a bird of this
feather too ?

TEAR. A man beaten from the wars, sir.

S. THO. I think so, for you never stood to fight.

J. DAP. What's thy name, fellow soldier ?

TEAR. I am called by those that have seen my
valour, Tearcat.

ALL. Tearcat ?

MOLL. A mere whip-jack,n and that is, in the

J skeldering] " A cant term, generally applied to a vagrant,
and often used by our ancient poets. It appears to have been
particularly appropriated to those vagabonds who wander
about under the name of soldiers, borrowing or begging
money." REED. See also Gifford's note on B. Jonson's
Works, vol. ii. p. 8 : " Skeldring was a cant term for impudent
begging," &c. : — and Dekker's Gull's Horn-book, p. 129, re
print ; " whom he may skelder [i. e. cheat, defraud], after the
genteel fashion, of money."

k glaziers] i. e. " eyes." Dekker's Lanthorne and Candle
light, 1612, sig. c 2.

1 black patches} Were used as an ornament, not only by
ladies, but also by some effeminate gallants of those days.

m Isle of Dogs'] Opposite Greenwich. It seems to have been
a place where persons took refuge from their creditors and
the officers of justice.

n whip-jack] In Dekker's Belman of London, 1608, sig. D 2,
the description of " A Whipiacke" is much the same as that
which Moll gives here.

536 THE ROARING GIRL.

commonwealth of rogues, a slave that can talk of
sea-fight, name all your chief pirates, discover more
countries to you than either the Dutch, Spanish,
French, or English ever found out ; yet indeed all
his service is by land, arid that is to rob a fair, or
some such venturous exploit. Tearcat? 'foot, sirrah,
I have your name, now I remember me, in my book
of horners ; horns for the thumb,0 you know how.

TEAR. No indeed, captain Moll, for I know you
by sight, I am no such nipping Christian,? but a
maunderer upon the pad,** I confess ; and meeting
with honest Trapdoor here, whom you had cashiered
from bearing arms, out at elbows, under your colours,
I instructed him in the rudiments of roguery, and
by my map made him sail over any country you
can name, so that now he can maunder better than
myself.

J. DAP. So, then, Trapdoor, thou art turned sol
dier now?

TRAP. Alas, sir, now there's no wars, 'tis the
safest course of life -I could take !

MOLL. I hope, then, you can cant, for by your
cudgels, you, sirrah, are an upright man.r

0 horns for the thumb'] Pickpockets were said to place a case,
or thimble, of horn on their thumbs, to support the edge of
the knife in the act of cutting purses : see Gifford's note on
B. Jonson's Works, vol. iv. p. 413.

p nipping Christian^ i. e. cutpurse.

1 maunderer upon the pad ] " Mawnding, asking (begging)."
" Pad, a way." Dekker's Lanthorne and Candlelight, 1612,
sig c 2.

r an upright man] " Is a sturdy big-bonde knaue, that neuer
walkes but (like a Commander) with a short truncheon in his
hand, which hee cals his Filchman. At Markets, Fayres, and
other meetings his voice amongst Beggars is of the same sound
that a Constables is of, it is not to be controld. He is free of
all the shiers in England, but neuer stayes in any place long,
&c. &c. . . . These [upright men] cary the shapes of soldiers,

THE ROARING GIRL. 537

TRAP. As any walks the highway, T assure you.

MOLL. And, Tearcat, what are you ? a wild
rogue,8 an angler,* or a ruffler ? u

TEAR. Brother to this upright man, flesh and
blood ; ruffling Tearcat is my name, and a ruffler
is my style, my title, my profession.

MOLL. Sirrah, where's your doxy ? halt not with
me.

ALL. Doxy, Moll ? what's that ?

and can talke of the Low Countries, though they neuer were
beyond Dover." Dekker's Belman of London, 1608, sig c. 3.

s a wild rogue] " Is a spirit that cares not in what circle
he rises, nor into the company of what Diuels hee falles : in
his swadling clouts is he marked to be a villaine, and in his

breeding is instructed to be so These Wilde Rogues

(like wilde geese) keepe in flocks, and all the day loyter in
the fields, if the weather bee warme, and at Bricke-kils, or
else disperse themselues in cold weather, to rich mens doores,
and at night haue their meetings in Barnes or other out
places," &c. Id. sig. D.

1 an angler] " Is a lymb of an Vpright man, as beeing de-
riued from him : their apparell in which they walke is com
monly frieze Jerkins and gaily slops : in the day time, they
beg from house to house, not so much for reliefe, as to spy
what lyes fit for their nets, which in the night following they
fish for. The Rod they angle with is a staffe of fiue or six
foote in length, in which within one inch of the top is a little
hole beared quite thorough, into which hole they put an yron
hooke, and with the same doe they angle at windowes about
midnight, the draught they pluck vp beeing apparell, sheetes,
couerlets, or whatsoeuer their yron hookes can lay hold of,"
&c. Id. sig. c 4.

u a ruffler] " The next in degree to him [the Vpright man]
is cald a Ruffler : the Ruffler and the Vpright-man are so like
in conditions, that you would sweare them brothers : they
walke with cudgels alike ; they profess armes alike. . . .
These commonly are fellowes that haue stood aloofe in the
warres, and whilst others fought, they tooke their heeles and
ran away from their Captaine, or else they haue bin Seruing-
men, whome for their behauiour no man would trust with a
liuery," &c. Id. ibid.

538 THE ROARING GIRL.

MOLL. His wench.

TRAP. My doxy ? I have, by the salomon,v a
doxy that carries a kinchin mort in her slate w at
her back, besides my dell and my dainty wild dell,x
with all whom I'll tumble this next darkmans in
the strommel,y and drink ben baufe, and eat a fat
gruntling cheat, a cackling cheat, and a quacking
cheat.

J. DAP. Here's old2 cheating !

TRAP. My doxy stays for me in a bousing ken,a
brave captain.

MOLL. He says his wench stays for him in an
ale-house. — You are no pure rogues !b

TEAR. Pure rogues ? no, we scorn to be pure

v the Salomon] i. e. " the masse." Dekker's Lanthorne and
Candlelight, 1612, sig. c 3.

w kinchin mort in her slate} Old ed. " kitchin - mort" —
" Kinching- morts are girles of a yeare or two old, which the
Morts (their mothers) cary at their backes in their Slates
(which in the Canting- Tongue are Sheetes) if they haue no
children of their owne, they will steale them from others, and
by some meane disfigure them, that by their parents they
shall neuer be knowne." Dekker's Belman of London, 1608,
sig. D 3.

x my dell and my dainty wild dell"] Dell is a girl yet unde-
bauched : " these Dells are reserued for the Vpright-men, &c.

Of these Dells, some are termed Wilde Dells, and

those are such as are born and begotten vnder a hedge : the
other are yong wenches that either by death of parents, the
villainie of Executors, or the cruel tie of maisters and mis
tresses, fall into this infamous and damnable course of life."
Id. sig. D 3, 4.

y Fll tumble this next darkmans in the strommel, &c.] i. e. I'll
tumble this next night in the straw, and drink good drink
(baufe being probably, as Reed has observed, a mistake for
bouse}, and eat a fat pig, a cock (or capon), and a duck. See
Dekker's Lanthorne and Candlelight, 1612, sig. c 2, 3.

z old] i. e. abundant.

a bousing ken] i. e. ale-house. See Dekker's Lanthorne and
Candlelight, 1612, sig. c 2.

b You are no pure rogues'] See note, vol. i. p. 169.

THE ROARING GIRL. 539

rogues ; but if you come to our lib ken or our
stalling ken,c you shall find neither him nor me a
queer cuffin.d

MOLL. So, sir, no churl of you.

TEAR. No, but a ben cove, a brave cove, a gen
try cuffin.

L. NOL. Call you this canting?

J. DAP. Zounds, I'll give a school-master half-
a- crown a -week, and teach me this pedlar's
French. f

TRAP. Do but stroll, sir, half a harvest with us,
sir, and you shall gabble your bellyful.

MOLL. Come, you rogue, cant with me.

S. THO. Well said, Moll. — Cant with her, sirrah,
and you shall have money, else not a penny.

TRAP. I'll have a bout, if she please.

MOLL. Come on, sirrah !

TRAP. Ben mort,s shall you and I heave a bough,
mill a ken, or nip a bung, and then we'll couch a
hogshead tinder the ruflfmans, and there you shall
wap with me, and I'll niggle with you.

MOLL. Out, you damned impudent rascal !

d lib ken or our stalling ken] i. e. our house to lie in, or our
house to receive stolen goods. See Dekker's Lanthorne and
Candlelight, 1612, sig. c 2, 3 (where " Stuling ken")

e queer cnffin . . . ben cove, &c.] Old ed. " ben caue." " The
word Coue or Cofe, or Cuffin, signifies a man, a fellow, &c.
But differs something in his propertie, according as it meetes
with other wordes : For a Gentleman is called A Gentry Coue,
or Cofe : A good fellow is a Bene Cofe : a Churle is called a
Quier Cuffin ; Quier signifies naught," &c. Id. sig. c.

f pedlar's French] " That pedlers french, or that Canting
language, which is to be found among none but Beggars."
Dekker's Belman of London, 1608, sig. c.

« Ben mart, &c.] i. e. Good wench, shall you and I rob a
booth, rob a house, or cut a purse, and then we'll lie down
asleep under the wpods (or bushes), &c. — Old ed. here, and
in Moll's repetition of the words, " heaue a booth" See Dek
ker's Lanthorne and Candlelight, 1612, sig. c 2, 3.

540 THE ROARING GIRL.

TRAP. Cut benarh winds, and hold your fambles
and your stamps.

L. NOL. Nay, nay, Moll, why art thou angry ?
what was his gibberish ?

MOLL. Marry, this, my lord, says he : Ben mort,
good wench, shall you and I heave a bough,1 mill a
ken, or nip a bung ? shall you and I rob a house, or
cut a purse ?

ALL. Very good.

MOLL. And then we'll couch a hogshead under the
ruffmans ; and then we'll lie under a hedge.

TRAP. That was my desire, captain, as 'tis fit a
soldier should lie.

MOLL. And there you shall map with me, and I'll
niggle with you, — and that's all.

S. BEAU. Nay, nay, Moll, what's that wap ?

J. DAP. Nay, teach me what niggling is ; I'd fain
be niggling.

MOLL. Wapping and niggling is all one, the
rogue my man can tell you.

TRAP. 'Tis fadoodling, if it please you.

S. BEAU. This is excellent ! One fit more, good
Moll.

MOLL. Come, you rogue, sing with me.

Song by MOLL awdTEARCAT. J

A gagek of ben rom -bouse
In a bousing ken of Rom-vile,
Is benar than a caster,

h Cut benar, Sec.] i. e. Speak better words, and hold your
hands and your legs. See Id. ibid.

.' heave a bough] Moll, or rather the printer, has omitted
the explanation of these words : see note, p. 539.

J Song by Moll and Tearcat] The old ed. gives the first two
lines to Moll, and prefixes " T. Cat." both to the third and
tenth lines.

*A gage, &c. &c.] i. e. A quart pot of good wine in an ale
house of London is better than a cloak, meat, bread, butter-milk

THE ROARING GIRL. 541

Peck, pennam, lay, or popler,
Which we mill in dense a vile.
0 I mud lib all the lightmans,
O I mud lib all the darkmans,
By the Salomon, under the rujfmans,
By the Salomon, in the hartmans,
And scour the queer cramp ring,
And couch till a palliard dock'd my dell,
So my bousy nab might skew rom-bouse well.
Avast to the pad, let us bing ;
Avast to the pad, let us bing.
ALL. Fine knaves, i'faith !

J. DAP. The grating of ten new cart-wheels, and
the gruntling of five hundred hogs coming from
Rumford market, cannot make a worse noise than
this canting language does in my ears. Pray, my
lord Noland, let's give these soldiers their pay.
S. BEAU. Agreed, and let them march.
L. NOL. Here, Moll. [Gives money.

MOLL. Now I see that you are stalled to the
rogue,k and are not ashamed of your professions :

(or whey), or porridge, which we steal in the country. O I would
lie all the day, O I would lie all the night, by the mass, under
the woods (or bushes), by the mass, in the stocks, and wear
bolts (or fetters), and lie till a palliard lay with my wench,
so my drunken head might quaff wine well. Avast to the
highway, let us hence, &c. See Dekker's Lanthorne and
Candlelight, 1612, sig. c 2, 3 ; and The Groundworke of Conny-
catching, 1592, sig. A 2. In the fourth line, as Reed observes,
" lay" should probably be " lap." A palliard is a beggar
born : " he likewise is cald a Clapperdugeon : his vpper gar
ment is an old cloake made of as many pieces patch'd to
gether, as there be villanies in him," &c. &c. Dekker's Bel-
man of London, 1608, sig. D.

k stalled to the rogue] " This done, the Grand Signior called
for a Gage of Bowse, which belike signified a quart of drinke,
for presently a pot of Ale being put into his hand, hee made
the yong Squire kneele downe, and powring the full pot on
his pate, vttered these wordes, I doe stall thee to the Rogue by
VOL. II. 3 A

542 THE ROARING GIRL.

look you, my lord Noland here and these gentle
men bestowk upon you two two boards1 and a half,
that's two shillings sixpence.

TRAP. Thanks to your lordship.
TEAR. Thanks, heroical captain.
MOLL. Away !

TRAP. We shall cut ben whidsm of your masters
and mistress-ship wheresoever we come.

MOLL. You'll maintain, sirrah, the old justice's
plot to his face ?

TRAP. Else trine me on the cheats," — hang me.
MOLL. Be sure you meet me there.
TRAP. Without any more maundering,0 I'll do't.
— Follow, brave Tearcat.

TEAR. I prce, sequor ; let us go, mouse. P

[Exeunt TRAPDOOR and TEARCAT.
L. NOL. Moll, what was in that canting song ?
MOLL. Troth, my lord, only a praise of good
drink, the only milk which these wild beasts love
to suck,iand thus it was :

A rich cup of 'wine ',
O it is juice divine !
More wholesome for the head
Than meat, drink, or bread:

vertue of this soueraigne English liquor, so that henceforth it
shall be lawtull for thee to Cant (that is to say) to be a Vaga
bond and Beg," &c. Dekker's Belman of London, 1608, sig. c.
" Stalling, making or oi'deyning." Dekker's Lanthorne and
Candlelight, 1612, sig. c 3.

k bestow] Old ed. " bestowes."

1 boards'] " Borde, a shilling." Dekker's Lanthorne and
Candlelight, 1612, sig. c 2.

m cut ben ivhids~] \. e. speak good words. See Id. ibid.

n trine me on the cheats] i. e. hang me on the gallows. See
Id sig. c 2, 3.

0 maundering] See note, p. 536 — but here it means — mut
tering, talking.

P mouse] See note, p. 137.

THE ROARING GIRL. 543

To Jill my drunken pate

With that, I'd sit up late;

By the heels would I lie,

Under a lowsy hedge die,

Let a slave have a pull

At my whore, so I be full

Of that precious liquor :

and a parcel of such stuff, my lord, not worth the
opening.

Enter a Cutpurse very gallant^ with four or Jive
others, one having a wand.

L. NOL. What gallant comes yonder ?

S. THO. Mass, I think I know him ; 'tis one of
Cumberland.

FIRST CUT. Shall we venture to shuffle in amongst
yon heap of gallants, and strike ?r

SEC. CUT. 'Tis a question whether there be any
silver shells8 amongst them, for all their satin out-
sides.

THE REST. Let's try.

MOLL. Pox on him, a gallant ? Shadow me, I
know him ; 'tis one that cumbers the land indeed :
if he swim near to the shore of any of your pockets,
look to your purses.

L. NOL. j IS 't possible?

S. BEAU., ^-c.M

MOLL. This brave^ fellow is no better than a foist.

S.

- } Foist! what's that?

., <yc. )

i gallant . . . brave] i. e. smartly dressed.

r strike] " The act doing, is called striking." Dekker's

'.Iman of London, 1608, sig. H 2.

s shells'] " The money, the Shelles." Id. ibid.

* ^' ?* 1 Old ed. here, and afterwards, " Omnes."
o. joeau., ofc. J

544 THE ROARING GIRL.

MOLL. A diver with two fingers, a pick-pocket;
all his train study the figging-law,* that's to say,
cutting of purses and foisting. One of them is a
nip ; I took him once i' the two-penny gallery11
at the Fortune : then there's a cloyer, or snap, that
dogs any new brother in that trade, and snaps will
have half in any booty. He with the wand is both
a stale, whose office is to face a man i' the streets,
whilst shells are drawn by another, and then with
his black conjuring rod in his hand, he, by the nim-
bleness of his eye and juggling stick, will, in cheap-
ing a piece of plate at a goldsmith's stall, make four
or five rings mount from the top of his caduceus,
and, as if it were at leap-frog, they skip into his
hand presently.

SEC. CUT. Zounds, we are smoked !

THE REST.V Ha !

SEC. CUT. We are boiled,w pox on her ! see, Moll,
the roaring drab !

FIRST CUT. All the diseases of sixteen hospitals
boil her ! — Away !

MOLL. Bless you, sir.

* figging-law, &c.] " In making of which law, two persons
haue the chiefe voices, that is to say, the Cutpurse and the
Pickpocket, and all the branches of this law reach to none
hut them and such as are made free denizens of their incor
poration

"He that cuts the purse is called the Nip.
He that is halfe with him is the Snap or the Cloyer.

He that picks the pocket is called a Foist.
He that faceth the man, is the Stale."

Dekker's Belman of London, 1608, sig. H.
n at the Fortune] See note, p. 435.
v The rest] Old ed. here, and afterwards, " Omnes."
w boiled] " The spying of this villanie is called Smoaking
or Boiling." Dekker's Belman of London, ItiOS, sig. H 2.

THE ROARING GIRL. 515

FIRST CUT. And you, good sir.

MOLL. Dost not ken me, man ?

FIRST CUT. No, trust me, sir.

MOLL. Heart, there's a knight, to whom I'm
bound for many favours, lost his purse at the last
new play i' the Swan,x seven angels? in't : make it
good, you're best ; do you see ? no more.

FIRST CUT. A synagogue2 shall be called, mis
tress Mary ; disgrace me not ; pacus palabros,* I
will conjure for you: farewell.

\_Exit with his companions.

MOLL. Did not I tell you, my lord ?

L. NOL. I wonder how thou earnest to the know
ledge of these nasty villains.

S. THO. And why do the foul mouths of the
world call thee Moll Cutpurse? a name, methinks,
damned and odious.

MOLL. Dare any step forth to my face and say,
I've ta'en thee doing so, Moll ? I must confess,
In younger days, when I was apt to stray,
I've sat amongst such adders ; seen their stings,
As any here might, and in full play-houses
Watch'd their quick-diving hands, to bring to shame
Such rogues, and in that stream met an ill name.
When next, my lord, you spy any one of those,

x the Swan'] One of the theatres on the Bankside.

y angels^ See note, vol. i. p. 250.

z a synagogue, &c.] According to Dekker, those who were
under the figging- law had occasionally "solemne meetings in
their hall." Belman of London, 1608, sig. H 3.

"• pacus palabros] Pocas palabras (Spanish), i. e. few words —
an expression which is found under various corrupted forms
in our old writers. It is usually put into the mouths of low
people, among whom it seems to have been current : " With
this learned oration the Cobler was tutord : laid his finger on
his mouth, and cried paucos palabros." Dekker's Wonderfull
Yeare, 1603, sig. E 4.

•r>4G THE ROARING GIRL.

So he be in his art a scholar, question him ;
Tempt him with gold to open the large book
Of his close villanies ; and you yourself shall cant
Better than poor Moll can, and know more laws
Of cheators, lifters, nips, foists, puggards, curbers,b
With all the devil's black-guard,0 than it's fit
Should be discover'd to a noble wit.
I know they have their orders, offices,
Circuits, and circles, unto which they're bound
To raise their own damnation in.

J. DAP. How dost thou know it?

MOLL. As you do; I shew't you, they to me

shew it.
Suppose, my lord, you were in Venice —

L. NOL. Well.

MOLL. If some Italian pander there would tell
All the close tricks of courtesans, would not you
Hearken to such a fellow ?

L. NOL. Yes.

b Of cheators, lifters, nips, foists, puggards, curlers'] " The
Cheating Law, or the Art of winning money by false dyce :
Those that practise this studie call themselues Cheators, the
dyce Cheaters, and the money which they purchase Cheates."
Dekker's Belman of London, 1608, sig. E 2. — " The Lifting
Law .... teacheth a kind of lifting of goods cleane away."
Id. sig. G 3, where various kinds of lifters are described. —
Concerning nips and foists, see note, p. 544. — Of puggards I
can find no mention : pugging seems to mean thieving in the
Winter's Tale, act iv. sc. 2, Malone's Shakespeare (by Boswell),
vol. xiv. p. 334 ; and, according to Steevens (ad loc.), " is
used by Greene in one of his pieces." — " The Curbing Law

[teaches] how to hooke goodes out of a windowe He

that hookes is cald the Curber . . . The Hooke is the Courb."
Dekker, ubi supra, sig. G.

c black-guard'] Meant, properly, the lowest drudges of the
kitchen, turnspits, carriers of wood, coal, &c., who attended
the progresses of the court : see Gifford's notes on B. Jon-
son's Works, vol. ii. p. 169 ; vii. p. 250.

THE ROARING GIRL. 547

MOLL. And here,

Being come from Venice, to a friend most dear
That were to travel thither, you'd proclaim
Your knowledge in those villanies, to save
Your friend from their quick danger: must you

have

A black ill name, because ill things you know?
Good troth, my lord, I'm made Moll Cutpurse so.
How many are whores in small ruffs and still looks !
How many chaste whose names fill Slander's books!
Were all men cuckolds whom gallants in their scorns
Call so, we should not walk for goring horns.
Perhaps for my mad going some reprove me ;
I please myself, and care not else who loved me.

S'BEAU Ac}Abfaveiaiiid,MoU,rfaitli!

S. THO. Come, my lord, shall's to the ordinary ?

L. NOL. Ay, 'tis noon sure.

MOLL. Good my lord, let not my name con
demn me to you, or to the world : a fencer I hope
may be called a coward ; is he so for that ? If all
that have ill names in London were to be whipt,
and to pay but twelve-pence a-piece to the beadle,
I would rather have his office than a constable's.

J. DAP. So would I, captain Moll : 'twere a sweet
tickling office, i'faith. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A Garden attached to SIR ALEX. WENGRAVE'S house.
Enter SIR ALEXANDER WENGRAVE, GOSHAWK,

GREENWIT, and others.

y son marry a thief, tha
world stick their won

d love] Old ed. " loues."

S. ALEX. My son marry a thief, that impudent girl,
Whom all the world stick their worst eyes upon !

548 THE ROARING GIRL.

GREEN. How will your care prevent it ?
Gos. 'Tis impossible :
They marry close, they're gone, but none knows

whither.
S. ALEX. O gentlemen, when haved a father's

heart-strings

Enter Servant.
Held out so long from breaking ? — Now what news,

sir?
SER. They were met upo' th' water an hour since,

sir,
Putting in towards the Sluice.

S. ALEX. The Sluice ? come, gentlemen,
'Tis Lambeth works against us. [Exit Servant.

GREEN. And that Lambeth

Joins more mad matches than your six wet towns6
'Twixt that and Windsor Bridge, where fares lie

soaking.
S. ALEX. Delay no time, sweet gentlemen : to

Blackfriars !
We'll take a pair of oars, and make after 'em.

Enter TRAPDOOR.

TRAP. Your son and that bold masculine rampf

my mistress

Are landed now at Tower.
S. ALEX. Hoyda, at Tower ?
TRAP. I heard it now reported.
S. ALEX. Which way, gentlemen,

d have} Old ed. " has."

e than your six wet towns} " These I should apprehend to be
Fulham, Richmond, Kingston, Hampton, Chertsey, Staines.
— The other intermediate towns are, Chelsea, Battersea, Kew,
Isleworth, Twickenham, and Walton. N." Note in Reed's
ed. of Dodsley's Old Plays.

1 ramp} See note, p. 496.

THE ROARING GIRL. 549

Shall I bestow my care ? I'm drawn in pieces
Betwixt deceit and shame.

Enter SIR GUY FITZALLARD.
S. GUY. Sir Alexander,
You are well met, and most rightly served ;
My daughter was a scorn to you.
S. ALEX. Say not so, sir.

S. GUY. A very abject she, poor gentlewoman !
Your house had been dishonour'd. Give you joy,

sir,

Of your son's gascoyne-bride ! & you'll be a grand
father shortly

To a fine crew of roaring sons and daughters ;
'Twill help to stock the suburbs passing well, sir.
S. ALEX. O, play not with the miseries of my

heart !

Wounds should be drest and heal'd, not vex'd,or left
Wide open, to the anguish of the patient,
And scornful air let in ; rather let pity
And advice charitably help to refresh 'em.

S. GUY. Who'd place his charity so unworthily ?
Like one that gives alms to a cursing beggar :
Had I but found one spark of goodness in you
Toward my deserving child, which then grew fond
Of your son's virtues, I had eas'd you now ;
But I perceive both fire of youth and goodness
Are rak'd up in the ashes of your age,
Else no such shame should have come near your

house,
Nor such ignoble sorrow touch your heart.

S. ALEX. If not for worth, for pity's sake assist

me !

GREEN. You urge a thing past sense ; how can
he help you ?

s gascoyne-bride'] i. e. a bride who wears gascoynes, — gas-
kins, or galligaskins.

550 THE ROARING GIRL.

All his assistance is as frail as ours :
Full as uncertain where's the place that holds 'em ;
One brings us water-news ; then comes another
With a full-charg'd mouth, like a culverin's voice,
And he reports the Tower : whose sounds are
truest ?

Gos. In vain you flatter him. — Sir Alexander

S. GUY. I flatter him ? gentlemen, you wrong me
grossly.

GREEN. He does it well, i'faith.

S. GUY. Both news are false,
Of Tower or water ; they took no such way yet.

S. ALEX. O strange ! hear you this, gentlemen ?
yet more plunges. h

S. GUY. They're nearer than you think for, yet

more close
Than if they were further off.

S. ALEX. How am I lost
In these distractions !

S. GUY. For your speeches, gentlemen,
In taxing me for rashness, 'fore you all
I will engage my state to half his wealth,
Nay, to his son's revenues, which are less,
And yet nothing at all till they come from him,
That I could, if my will stuck to my power,
Prevent this marriage yet, nay, banish her
For ever from his thoughts, much more his arms.

S. ALEX. Slack not this goodness, though you

heap upon me

Mountains of malice and revenge hereafter !
I'd willingly resign up half my state to him,
So he would marry the meanest drudge I hire.

GREEN. He talks impossibilities, and you believe
'em.

S. GUY. I talk no more than I know how to finish,

•h plunges'] i. e. difficulties, perplexities.

THE ROARING GIRL. 551

My fortunes else are his that dares stake with me.

The poor young gentleman I love and pity ;

And to keep shame from him (because the spring

Of his affection was my daughter's first,

Till his frown blasted all), do but estate him

In those possessions which your love and care

Once pointed out for him, that he may have room

To entertain fortunes of noble birth,

Where now his desperate wants cast1 him upon her ;

And if I do not, for his own sake chiefly,

Rid him of this disease that now grows on him,

I'll forfeit my whole state, before these gentlemen.

GREEN. Troth, but you shall not undertake such

matches ;
We'll persuade so much with you.

S. ALEX. Here's my ring ; '[Gives ring.

He will believe this token. 'Fore these gentlemen
I will confirm it fully : all those lands
My first love 'lotted him, he shall straight possess
In that refusal.

S. GUY. If I change it not,
Change me into a beggar.

GREEN. Are you mad, sir?

S. GUY. Tis done.

Gos. Will you undo yourself by doing,
And shew a prodigal trick in your old days ?

S. ALEX. 'Tis a match, gentlemen.

S. GUY. Ay, ay, sir, ay.
I ask no favour, trust to you for none ;
My hope rests in the goodness of your son. [Exit.

GREEN. He holds it up well yet.

Gos. Of an old knight, i'faith.

S. ALEX. Curst be the time I laid his first love
barren,

1 cast] Old ed. " casts."

552 THE ROARING GIRL.

Wilfully barren, that before this hour

Had sprung forth fruits of comfort and of honour !

He lov'd a virtuous gentlewoman.

Enter MOLL in her male dress.

Gos. Life, here's Moll !

GREEN. Jack?

Gos. How dost thou, Jack ?

MOLL. How dost thou, gallant ?

S. ALEX. Impudence, where's my son ?

MOLL. Weakness, go look him.

S. ALEX. Is this your wedding gown ?

MOLL. The man talks monthly :J
Hot broth and a dark chamber for the knight !
I see he'll be stark mad at our next meeting. [Exit.

Gos. Why, sir, take comfort now, there's no such

matter,

No priest will marry her, sir, for a woman
Whiles that shape's on ; and it was never known
Two men were married and conjoin'd in one :
Your son hath made some shift to love another.

S. ALEX. Whate'er she be, she has my blessing

with her :

May they be rich and fruitful, and receive
Like comfort to their issue as I take
In them ! has pleas'd me now ; marrying not this,
Through a whole world he could not choose amiss.

GREEN. Glad you're so penitent for your former
sin, sir.

Gos. Say he should take a wench with her smock-
dowry,
No portion with her but her lips and arms ?

S. ALEX. Why, who thrive better, sir ? they have
most blessing,

1 monthly'] " i. e. madly ; as if under the influence of the
moon." STEEVENS.

THE ROARING GIRL. 553

Though other have more wealth, and least repent :

Many that want most know the most content.
GREEN. Say he should marry a kind youthful

sinner ?

S. ALEX. Age will quench that ; any offence but
theft

And drunkenness, nothing but death can wipe away;

Their sins are green even when their heads are grey.

Nay, I despair not now ; my heart's cheer'd, gen
tlemen ;

No face can come unfortunately to me. —

Re-enter Servant.

Now, sir, your news ?

SER. Your son, with his fair bride,
Is near at hand.

S. ALEX. Fair may their fortunes be !

GREEN. Now you're resolv'd,-5 sir, it was never
she.

S. ALEX. I find it in the music of my heart.

Enter SEBASTIAN WENGRAVE leading in MOLL in her
female dress and masked, and SIR GUY FITZALLARD.

See where they come.

Gos. A proper lusty presence, sir.

S. ALEX. Now has he pleas'd me right : I always

counsell'd him

To choose a goodly, personable creature :
Just of her pitch was my first wife his mother.

SEB. Before I dare discover my offence,
I kneel for pardon. [Kneels.

S. ALEX. My heart gave it thee
Before thy tongue could ask it :
Rise ; thou hast rais'd my joy to greater height
Than to that seat where grief dejected it.

i resolv'd'] i. e. satisfied.
VOL. II. 3 B

554 THE ROARING GIRL.

Both welcome to my love and care for ever !
Hide not my happiness too long ; all's pardon'd ;
Here are our friends. — Salute her, gentlemen.

[They unmask her.

ALL. Heart, who's this ? Moll !

S. ALEX. O my reviving shame ! is't I must live
To be struck blind ? be it the work of sorrow,
Before age take't in hand !

S. GUY. Darkness and death !
Have you deceiv'd me thus ? did I engage
My whole estate for this ?

S. ALEX. You ask'd no favour,
And you shall find as little : since my comforts
Play false with me, I'll be as cruel to thee

i.grief to fathers' hearts.

MOLL. Why, what's the matter with you,
'Less too much joy should make your age forgetful?
Are you too well, too happy ?

S. ALEX. With a vengeance !

MOLL. Methinks you should be proud of such a

daughter,
As good a man as your son.

S. ALEX. O monstrous impudence !

MOLL. You had no note before, an unmark'd

knight ;

Now all the town will take regard on you,
And all your enemies fear you for my sake :
You may pass where you list, through crowds most

thick,

And come off bravely with your purse unpick'd.
You do not know the benefits I bring with me ;
No cheat dares work upon you with thumb k or

knife,
While you've a roaring girl to your son's wife.

k thumb'] See note, p. 536.

THE ROARING GIRL. 555

S. ALEX. A devil rampant !

S. GUY. Have you so much charity
Yet to release me of my last rash bargain,
And I'll give in your pledge ?

S. ALEX. No, sir, I stand to't ;
I'll work upon advantage, as all mischiefs
Do upon me.

S. GUY. Content. Bear witness all, then,
His are the lands ; and so contention ends :
Here comes your son's bride 'twixt two noble
friends.

Enter LORD NOLAND and SIR BEAUTEOUS GANYMEDE
with MARY FITZALLARD between them; GALLIPOT,
TILTYARD, OPENWORK, and their Wives.

MOLL. Now are you gull'd as you would be ;

thank me for't,
I'd a forefinger in't.

SEB. Forgive me, father !

Though there before your eyes my sorrow feign'd,
This still was she for whom true love complain'd.

S. ALEX. Blessings eternal, and the joys of angels,
Begin your peace here to be sign'd in heaven !
How short my sleep of sorrow seems now to me,
To this eternity of boundless comforts,
That finds no want but utterance and expression !
My lord, your office here appears so honourably,
So full of ancient goodness, grace, and worthiness,
I never took more joy in sight of man
Than in your comfortable presence now.

L. NOL. Nor I more delight in doing grace to

virtue

Than in this worthy gentlewoman your son's bride,
Noble Fitzallard's daughter, to whose honour
And modest fame I am a servant vow'd ;
So is this knight.

556 THE ROARING GIRL.

S. ALEX. Your loves make my joys proud.
Bring forth those deeds of land my care laid ready,
[Exit Servant, who presently returns with deeds.
» And which, old knight, thy nobleness may chal
lenge,

Join'd with thy daughter's virtues, whom I prize now
As dearly as that flesh I call mine own.
Forgive me, worthy gentlewoman ; 'twas my blind
ness :

When I rejected thee, I saw thee not ;
Sorrow and wilful rashness grew like films
Over the eyes of judgment; now so clear
I see the brightness of thy worth appear.
"~MARY« Duty and love may I deserve in those !
And all my wishes have a perfect close.

S. ALEX. That tongue can never err, the sound's

so sweet.

Here, honest son, receive into thy hands
The keys of wealth, possession of those lands
Which my first care provided ; they're thine own ;
Heaven give thee a blessing with 'em! the best joys
That can in worldly shapes to man betide
Are fertile lands and a fair fruitful bride,
Of which I hope thou'rt sped.
SEE. I hope so too, sir.
MOLL. Father and son, I ha' done you simple

service here.

SEE. For which thou shalt not part, Moll, unre
quited.
S. ALEX. Thou'rt a mad girl, and yet I cannot

now
Condemn thee.

MOLL. Condemn me ? troth, and1 you should, sir,
•I'd make you seek out one to hang in my room :

1 and] i. e. if.

THE ROARING GIRL. 557

Pd~ give you the slip at gallows, and cozen the

people.
Heard you this jest, my lord ?

L.NoL. What is it, Jack?

MOLL. He was in fear his son would marry me,
But never dreamt that I would ne'er agree.

L. NOL. Why, thou had'st a suitor once, Jack :
when wilt marry ?

MOLL. Who, I, my lord? I'll tell you when,

i'faith ;

When you shall hear
Gallants void from sergeants' fear,
Honesty and truth unslander'd,
Woman mann'd, but never pander'd,
Cheats111 booted, but not coach'd,
Vessels older ere they're broach'd ;
If my mind be then not varied,
Next day following I'll be married.

L. NOL. This sounds like doomsday.

MOLL. Then were marriage best ;
For if I should repent, I were soon at rest.

S. ALEX. In troth thou'rt a good wench : I'm

sorry now
The opinion was so hard I conceiv'd of thee :

Enter TRAPDOOR.

Some wrongs I've done thee.

TRAP. Is the wind there now ?
Tis time for me to kneel and confess first,
For fear it come too late, and my brains feel it.

[Aside.
Upon my paws I ask you pardon, mistress !

m Cheats] Qy. " cheaters :" see p. 546 and note ; but com
pare p. 554, last line but one.

558 THE ROARING GIRL.

MOLL. Pardon ! for what, sir ? what has your
rogueship done now ?

TRAP. I've been from time to time hir'd to con
found you
By this old gentleman.

MOLL. How?

TRAP. Pray, forgive him :

But may I counsel you, you should never do't.
Many a snare t' entrap your worship's life
Have I laid privily ; chains, watches, jewels ;
And when he saw nothing could mount you up,
Four hollow-hearted angelsm he then gave you,
By which he meant to trap you, I to save you.

S. ALEX. To all which shame and grief in me cry

guilty.

Forgive me : now T cast the world's eyes from me,
And look upon thee freely with mine own,
I see the most of many wrongs before me,n
Cast from the jaws of Envy and her people,
And nothing foul but that. I'll never more
Condemn by common voice, for that's the whore
That deceives man's opinion, mocks his trust,
Cozens his love, and makes his heart unjust.

MOLL. Here be the angels, gentlemen ; they were

given me

As a musician : I pursue no pity ;
Follow the law, and0 you can cuckP me, spare not ;
Hang up my viol by me, and I care not.

S. ALEX. So far I'm sorry, I'll thrice double 'em,
To make thy wrongs amends.
Come, worthy friends, my honourable lord,
Sir Beauteous Ganymede, and noble Fitzallard,

m angels] See note, vol. i. p. 250. n me'] Old ed. " hee."

0 and] i. e. if.

P cuck] i. e. put me in the cucking-stool : see note, p. 185.

THE ROARING GIRL. 559

And you kind gentlewomen,^ whose sparkling pre
sence

Are glories set in marriage, beams of society,
For all your loves give lustre to my joys :
The happiness of this day shall be remember'd
At the return of every smiling spring ;
In my time now 'tis born ; and may no sadness
Sit on the brows of men upon that day,
But as I am, so all go pleas'd away !

[Exeunt omnes.

i gentlewomen] \. e. Mrs. Gallipot, &c. — Old ed. "Gentle
woman."

561

EPILOGUE.

A painter having drawn with curious art
The picture of a woman, every part
Limn'd to the life, hung out the piece to sell.
People who pass'd along, viewing it well,
Gave several verdicts on it : some disprais'd
The hair ; some said the brows too high were rais'd;
Some hit her o'er the lips, mislik'd their colour ;
Some wish'd her nose were shorter ; some, the eyes

fuller ;

Others said roses on her cheeks should grow,
Swearing they look'd too pale ; others cried no.
The workman still, as fault. was found, did mend it,
In hope to please all : but this work being ended,
And hung open at stall, it was so vile,
So monstrous, and so ugly, all men did smile
At the poor painter's folly. Such, we doubt,
Is this our comedy : some perhaps do flout
The plot, saying, 'tis too thin, too weak, too mean ;
Some for the person will revile the scene,
And wonder that a creature of her being
Should be the subject of a poet, seeing
In the world's eye none weighs so light : others look
For all those base tricks, publish'd in a book*!
Foul as his brains they flow'd from, of cutpurse[s],
Of nips and foists, nasty, obscene discourses,

i a book'] " Alluding, no doubt, to some tract of the time.
Dekker himself wrote several of the kind ; but it is not to be
supposed that any of these are here so roughly handled."
COLLIER. Not to be supposed indeed ; since Dekker wrote
a portion of the present play.

562 THE ROARING GIRL.

As full of lies as empty of worth or wit,

For any honest ear or eye unfit.

And thus,

If we to every brain that's humorous

Should fashion scenes, we, with the painter, shall,

In striving to please all, please none at all.

Yet for such faults as either the writer's wit

Or negligence of the actors do commit,

Both crave your pardons : if what both have done

Cannot full pay your expectation,

The Roaring Girl herself, some few days hence,

Shall on this stage give larger recompence.

Which mirth that you may share in, herself does

woo you,
And craves this sign, your hands to beckon her to

you.

END OF VOL. II.

LONDON :
PRINTED BY LEVEY, ROBSON, AND FRANK.LYN,

46 St. Martin's Lane.

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