Needle: Played on Stage not longe ago in Christes Colledge in Cambridge.
Made by Mr S. Mr. of Art. Imprynted at London, in Fleetestreat beneth
the Conduit at the signe of S. John Euangelist, by Thomas Colwell._
1575. 4º. Black letter.
There was a second edition, 4to, 1661, which is of no value.
* * * * *
[I found this introduction to "Gammer Gurton's Needle" among some
collections made by my father about twenty years ago for a similar
purpose, and as it was much fuller than that previously printed, it has
been substituted. I have, however, introduced a few additions from the
Memoirs of Still in the "Athenæ Cantabrigienses," ii., 467, and the
"Proceedings of the Suffolk Institute of Archæology," iii., 130, the
latter kindly communicated to me by Mr Joseph Bryant, of Cheshunt.--W.
C. H.
PREFACE.
John Still, the reputed author of this play, was the only son of William
Still, Esq. of Grantham, in Lincolnshire, and was born in or about 1543.
In 1559 he matriculated as a pensioner in Christ's College, Cambridge,
proceeded B.A. in 1561-2, and was elected M.A. in 1565. In 1570 he was
presented to the rectory of St Martin Outwich, London, and in the same
year proceeded B.D. On the 30th July 1571, Archbishop Parker collated
Still to the rectory of Hadleigh, in Suffolk, and in 1572 the primate,
to whom he was chaplain, appointed him, with Dr Watts, Joint-Dean of
Bocking. Other church preferments followed in quick succession; but this
is perhaps scarcely a place for entering at large into biographical
particulars, more especially as the authorship of the drama is a little
uncertain. We must content ourselves with noting his gradual rise from
the deanery of Bocking to the canonry at Westminster, the mastership of
St John's College, Cambridge, the vice-chancellorship of the university
on two occasions, the mastership of Trinity College, Cambridge, and
finally, the bishopric of Bath and Wells, to which last dignity he was
named 16 January 1592-3. He died at the episcopal palace at Wells,
February 26, 1607-8, and was buried, on the 4th April following, in the
cathedral, where a handsome monument was erected to his memory. He was
twice married, and left behind him several children. His excellent
character is attested by Sir John Harington, who says that he was a man
"to whom I never came but I grew more religious, and from whom I never
went but I parted more instructed." The comedy of "Gammer Gurton's
Needle," the only dramatic product of his pen of which we have any
knowledge, was "played on stage, in Christ's College, Cambridge," in the
year 1566, and the following entry from the bursars' books of that
college, on the occasion, manifests that the authorities applied
themselves to its production with spirit. "Item, for the Carpenters
setting upp the Scaffold at the plaie xxd.[181]" At this time, Mr Still
was twenty-three years old; but an entry in the registers of the
Stationers' Company, under the year 1563, is considered by Mr Collier to
have very possible reference to the present comedy, and, in this case,
the young clergyman would have begun, and ended, his authorship ere he
was nineteen: "Received of Thomas Colwell for his lycense for pryntinge
of a play intituled Dyccon of Bedlam, iiijd." There is no such play, Mr
Collier points out, as "Dyccon of Bedlam," but Diccon of Bedlam is a
principal character in "Gammer Gurton's Needle;" and it is further to be
observed that Thomas Colwell is the same publisher, "at the sygne of S.
John Evangelist, beneth the Conduit in Fleetestreat," by whom the
earliest known edition of the present comedy was produced. The
circumstance, after all, is as inconclusive as the fact is immaterial.
The true subject of regret is, not that we cannot determine precisely
whether Still wrote comedy when he was nineteen, or when he was
twenty-three, but that having written one play so well, he did not write
more. Had he so elected to do, indeed, the See of Bath and Wells might
not have seen the name of Still in its _Catena Episcoporum_, but the
other prelate would, doubtless, have done his duty, and English readers
would have been amused with further Gammer Gurtons.
"Gammer Gurton's Needle," acted at Christ's College, Cambridge, in 1566,
"has," writes Mr Collier, "this peculiarity belonging to it, that it is
the first existing play acted at either university; and it is a singular
coincidence, that the author of the comedy so represented should be the
very person who, many years afterwards, when he had become
Vice-Chancellor of Cambridge, was called upon to remonstrate with the
Ministers of Queen Elizabeth against having an English play performed
before her at that university, as unbefitting its learning, dignity, and
character."[182] Of the play itself Hazlitt writes: "It is a regular
comedy in five acts, built on the circumstance of an old woman having
lost her needle, which throws the whole village into confusion, till it
is at last providentially found sticking in an unlucky part of Hodge's
dress. This must evidently have happened at a time when the
manufacturers of Sheffield and Birmingham had not reached the height of
perfection which they have at present done. Suppose that there is only
one sewing-needle in a parish, that the owner, a diligent, notable old
dame, loses it; that a mischief-making wag sets it about that another
old woman has stolen this valuable instrument of household industry;
that strict search is made in-doors for it in vain, and that then the
incensed parties sally forth to scold it out in the open air, till words
end in blows, and the affair is referred over to higher authorities; and
we shall have an exact idea (though perhaps not so lively a one) of what
passes in this authentic document between Gammer Gurton and her gossip
Dame Chat; Diccon, the bedlam (the causer of these harms); Hodge, Gammer
Gurton's servant; Tib, her maid; Cock, her prentice boy; Doll;
Scapethrift; Master Baillie, his master; Doctor Rat, the curate; and Gib
the cat, who may be fairly reckoned one of the _dramatis personæ_, and
performs no mean part." "Such," observes the same critic, further on,
characterising the comedy, "Such was the wit, such was the mirth of our
ancestors--homely, but hearty; coarse, perhaps, but kindly; let no man
despise it; for "evil to him that evil thinks." To think it poor and
beneath notice, because it is not just like ours, is the same sort of
hypercriticism that was exercised by the person who refused to read
some old books because they were "such very poor spelling." The
meagreness of their literary or their bodily fare was at least relished
by themselves; and this is better than a surfeit or an indigestion. It
is refreshing to look out of ourselves sometimes, not to be always
holding the glass to our own peerless perfections; and as there is a
dead wall which always intercepts the prospect of the future from our
view (all that we can see beyond it is the heavens), it is as well to
direct our eyes now and then without scorn to the page of history; and
repulsed in our attempts to penetrate the secrets of the next six
thousand years, not to turn our backs on old long syne."[183]
This entertaining old piece is mentioned in "Histriomastix," 1610, act
ii. (sign. C. 3), under the title of "Mother Gurton's Needle," and in
burlesque it is there called "a Tragedy."
The present edition of "Gammer Gurton's Needle" is printed from that of
1575.
THE NAMES OF THE SPEAKERS IN THIS COMEDY.
DICCON[184], _the Bedlam_.[185]
HODGE, _Gammer Gurton's Servant_.
TIB, _Gammer Gurton's Maid_.
GAMMER GURTON.
COCK, _Gammer Gurton's Boy_.
DAME CHAT.
DOCTOR RAT, _the Curate_.
MASTER BAILY.
DOLL, _Dame Chat's Maid_
SCAPETHRIFT, _Master Baily's Servant_.
_Mutes._
FOOTNOTES:
[181] ["Proceedings of the Suffolk Institute," iii., 130.]
[182] "Annals of the Stage," ii. 463.
[183] "Lectures on the Dramatic Literature of the Age of Elizabeth,"
1820, p. 208.
[184] The ancient abbreviation of Richard.
[185] After the dissolution of the religious houses where the poor of
every denomination were provided for, there was for many years no
settled or fixed provision made to supply the want of that care, which
those bodies appear always to have taken of their distressed brethren.
In consequence of this neglect, the idle and dissolute were suffered
to wander about the country, assuming such characters as they imagined
were most likely to insure success to their frauds, and security from
detection. Among other disguises, many affected madness, and were
distinguished by the name of _Bedlam Beggars_. These are mentioned by
Edgar in "King Lear:"--
"The country gives me proof and precedent,
Of bedlam beggars who, with roaring voices,
Strike in their numbed and mortified bare arms,
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary,
And with this horrible object from low farms,
Poor pelting villages, sheepcotes, and mills,
Sometime with lunatic bans, sometimes with prayers,
Enforce their charity."
In Dekker's "Belman of London" [1608] all the different species of
beggars are enumerated. Amongst the rest mentioned "Tom of Bedlam's"
band of madcaps; otherwise called Poor Tom's flock of wild geese or
hair-brains, are called Abraham men. An Abraham man is afterwards
described in this manner: "Of all the mad rascalls (that are of this
wing) the _Abraham-man_ is the most phantastick. The fellow (quoth
this old lady of the Lake vnto me) that sat halfe naked (at table to
day) from the girdle vpward, is the best _Abraham-man_ that euer came
to my house, & the notablest villaine: he sweares he hath bin in
bedlam, and will talke frantickly of purpose: you see pinns stuck in
sundry places of his naked flesh, especially in his armes, which paine
hee gladly puts himselfe to (beeing indeede no torment at all, his
skin is either so dead with some fowle disease, or so hardened with
weather) onley to make you beleeue he is out of his wits: he calls
himselfe by the name of _Poore Tom_, and comming neere any body cryes
out, Poore Tom is a cold. Of these _Abraham-men_, some be exceeding
mery, and doe nothing but sing songs, fashioned out of their owne
braines, some will dance; others will doe nothing but either laugh or
weepe; others are dogged, and are sullen both in looke and speech,
that, spying but small company in a house, they boldly and bluntly
enter, compelling the servants through feare to giue them what they
demaund, which is commonly _bacon_, or something that will yielde
ready mony." [Edit. 1608, sign. D 2.] Of this respectable fraternity
Diccon seems to have been a member. Massinger mentions them in "A New
Way to Pay Old Debts," act ii., sc. 1: "Are they padders, or
_Abraham-men_, that are your consorts?"
PROLOGUE
As Gammer Gurton, with many a wide stitch,
Sat piecing and patching of Hodge her man's breech,
By chance or misfortune, as she her gear toss'd,
In Hodge leather breeches her needle she lost.
When Diccon the Bedlam had heard by report,
That good Gammer Gurton was robbed in this sort,
He quietly persuaded with her in that stound,
Dame Chat, her dear gossip, this needle had found.
Yet knew she no more of this matter (alas),
Than knoweth Tom our clerk what the priest saith at mass.
Hereof there ensued so fearful a fray,
Mas. Doctor was sent for, these gossips to stay;
Because he was curate and esteemed full wise,
Who found that he sought not, by Diccon's device.
When all things were tumbled and clean out of fashion,
Whether it were by fortune, or some other constellation,
Suddenly the needle Hodge found by the pricking,
And drew it out of his buttock, where he found it sticking.
Their hearts then at rest with perfect security,
With a pot of good nale they struck up their plaudity.
GAMMER GURTON'S NEEDLE.
THE FIRST ACT.
THE FIRST SCENE.
DICCON. Many a mile have I walked divers and sundry ways,
And many a good man's house have I been at in my days,
Many a gossip's cup in my time have I tasted,
And many a broach and spit have I both turned and basted,
Many a piece of bacon have I had out of their balks,[186]
In running over the country with long and weary walks.
Yet came my foot never within those door cheeks,
To seek flesh or fish, garlick, onions, or leeks,
That ever I saw a sort in such a plight,[187]
As here within this house appeareth to my sight,
There is howling and scowling, all cast in a dump,
With whewling and puling, as though they had lost a trump.
Sighing and sobbing, they weep and they wail.
I marvel in my mind what the devil they ail.
The old trot sits groaning with alas and alas,[188]
And Tib wrings her hands and takes on in worse case.
With poor Cock their boy, they be driven in such fits,
I fear me the folks be not well in their wits.
Ask them what they ail, or who brought them in this stay?
They answer not at all, but alack and wellaway.
When I saw it booted not, out at doors I hied me,
And caught a slip of bacon, when I saw none spied me,
Which I intend not far hence, unless my purpose fail,
Shall serve me for a shoeing horn to draw on two pots of ale.[189]
THE FIRST ACT.
THE SECOND SCENE.
HODGE, DICCON.
HODGE. See, so cham arrayed[190] with dabbling in the dirt!
She that set me to ditching, ich would she had the squirt.
Was never poor soul that such a life had?
Gog's bones, this vilthy glay has dress'd me too bad.
Gog's soul, see how this stuff tears!
Ich were better to be a bearward, and set to keep bears.
By the mass, here is a gash, a shameful hole indeed,
And one stitch tear further, a man may thrust in his head.
DICCON. By my father's soul, Hodge, if I should now be sworn,
I cannot choose but say thy breech is foul betorn.
But the next remedy in such a case and hap
Is to planch[191] on a piece as broad as thy cap.
HODGE. Gog's soul, man, 'tis not yet two days fully ended,
Since my dame Gurton (cham sure) these breeches amended.
But cham made such a drudge to trudge at every need,
Chwold rend it, though it were stiched with sturdy packthread.
DICCON. Hodge, let thy breeches go, and speak and tell me soon,
What devil aileth Gammer Gurton, and Tib her maid to frown.
HODGE. Tush, man, th' art deceived, 'tis their daily look:
They cow'r[192] so over the coals, their eyes be blear'd with smoke.
DICCON. Nay, by the mass, I perfectly perceived as I came hither,
That either Tib and her dame hath been by the ears together,
Or else as great a matter, as thou shalt shortly see.
HODGE. Now ich beseech our Lord they never better agree.
DICCON. By Gog's soul, there they sit as still as stones in the street;
As though they had been taken with fairies, or else with some
ill-spreet.
HODGE. Gog's heart, I durst have laid my cap to a crown,
Ch'would learn of some prancome, as soon as ich came to town.
DICCON. Why, Hodge, art thou inspired? or didst thou thereof hear?
HODGE. Nay, but ich saw such a wonder, as ich saw nat this seven year.
Tom Tankard's cow (by Gog's bones) she set me up her sail,
And flinging about his halse aker,[193] fisking with her tail,
As though there had been in her arse a swarm of bees;
And chad not cried tphrowh, whore, shea'd leapt out of his lees.
DICCON. Why, Hodge, lies the cunning in Tom Tankard's cow's tail?
HODGE. Well, ich chave heard some say such tokens do not fail.
But ca'st thou not tell, in faith, Diccon, why she frowns, or whereat?
Hath no man stolen her ducks or hens, or gelded Gib her cat?[194]
DICCON. What devil can I tell, man, I could not have one word,
They gave no more heed to my talk than thou wouldst to a lord.
HODGE. Ich cannot skill but muse, what marvellous thing it is:
Chill in and know myself what matters are amiss.
DICCON. Then farewell, Hodge, a while, since thou dost inward haste,
For I will into the good wife Chat's, to feel how the ale doth taste.
THE FIRST ACT.
THE THIRD SCENE.
HODGE, TIB.
HODGE. Cham aghast, by the mass, ich wot not what to do.
Chad need bless me well, before ich go them to.
Perchance some felon sprit may haunt our house indeed.
And then chwere but a noddy to venture, where cha' no need.
TIB. Cham worse than mad, by the mass, to be at this stay,
Cham chid, cham blam'd, and beaten all th' hours on the day.
Lamed and hunger-starved, pricked up all in jags,
Having no patch to hide my back, save a few rotten rags.
HODGE. I say, Tib, if thou be Tib, as I trow sure thou be,
What devil make-a-do is this between our dame and thee?
TIB. Gog's bread, Hodge, thou had a good turn, thou wert not here
this while.
It had been better for some of us to have been hence a mile.
My gammer is so out of course, and frantic all at once,
That Cock our boy and I, poor wench, have felt it on our bones.
HODGE. What is the matter, say on, Tib, whereat she taketh so on?
TIB. She is undone; she saith (alas) her joy and life is gone.
If she hear not of some comfort, she saith she is but dead,
Shall never come within her lips one inch of meat ne bread.
HODGE. By'r lady, cham not very glad to see her in this dump;
Chold a noble her stool hath fallen, and she hath broke her rump.
TIB. Nay, and that were the worst, we would not greatly care,
For bursting[195] of her huckle-bone or breaking of her chair,
But greater, greater is her grief, as, Hodge, we shall all feel.
HODGE. Gog's wounds, Tib, my gammer has never lost her nee'le?
TIB. Her nee'le!
HODGE. Her nee'le?
TIB. Her nee'le; by him that made me, it is true, Hodge, I tell thee.
HODGE. Gog's sacrament! I would she had lost th' heart out of her
belly.
The devil or else his dame, they ought her sure a shame,
How a murrion came this chance, (say, Tib) unto our dame?
TIB. My gammer sat her down on her pes,[196] and bad me reach thy
breeches,
And by and by, a vengeance in it, ere she had take two stitches,
To clout a clout upon thine arse, by chance aside she leers,
And Gib our cat in the milk-pan she spied over head and ears.
Ah whore, out these, she cried aloud, and swept the breeches down,
Up went her staff, and out leapt Gib at doors into the town.
And since that time was, never wight could set their eyes upon it.
Gog's malison chave Cock and I bid twenty times light on it.[197]
HODGE. And is not then my breeches sewed up, to-morrow that I should
wear?
TIB. No, in faith, Hodge, thy breeches lie, for all this never the
near.
HODGE. Now a vengeance light on all the sort, that better should have
kept it;
The cat, the house, and Tib our maid, that better should have swept it.
See where she cometh crawling! come on, in twenty devils' way;
Ye have made a fair day's work, have you not, pray you say?
THE FIRST ACT.
THE FOURTH SCENE.
GAMMER, HODGE, TIB, COCK.
GAMMER. Alas, alas, I may well curse and ban
This day, that ever I saw it, with Gib and the milk-pan.
For these and ill luck together, as knoweth Cock my boy,
Have stack[198] away my dear nee'le, and robbed me of my joy.
My fair long straight nee'le, that was mine only treasure,
The first day of my sorrow is, and last end of my pleasure.
HODGE (_aside_). Might ha' kept it, when ye had it;
but fools will be fools still:
Lose that is vast in your hands? ye need not, but ye will.
GAMMER. Go hie thee, Tib, and run, thou whore,
to the end here of the town.
Didst carry out dust in thy lap? seek where thou pourest it down;
And as thou sawest me raking in the ashes where I mourned,
So see in all the heap of dust thou leave no straw unturned.
TIB. That chall, Gammer, swyth and tite,[199] and soon be
here again.
GAMMER. Tib, stoop and look down to the ground to it,
and take some pain.
HODGE. Here is a pretty matter, to see this gear how it goes:
By Gog's soul, I think you would lose your arse, and it were loose.
Your nee'le lost? it is pity you should lack care and endless sorrow.
Gog's death, how shall my breeches be sewed? Shall I go thus to-morrow?
GAMMER. Ah, Hodge, Hodge, if that ich could find my nee'le, by the
reed,
Ch'ould sew thy breeches, ich promise thee, with full good double
thread,
And set a patch on either knee should last this moneths twain,
Now God and good Saint Sithe,[200] I pray to send it home[201] again.
HODGE. Whereto served your hands and eyes, but this your nee'le to
keep?
What devil had you else to do? ye keep, ich wot, no sheep.
Cham fain abroad to dig and delve, in water, mire, and clay,
Sossing and possing in the dirt still from day to day.
A hundred things that be abroad cham set to see them well:
And four of you sit idle at home, and cannot keep a nee'le!
GAMMER. My nee'le, alas, ich lost it, Hodge, what time ich me up
hasted,
To save milk set up for thee, which Gib our cat hath wasted.
HODGE. The devil he burst both Gib and Tib, with all the rest;
Cham always sure of the worst end, whoever have the best.
Where ha' you been fidging abroad, since you your nee'le lost?
GAMMER. Within the house, and at the door, sitting by this same post;
Where I was looking a long hour, before these folks came here;
But, wellaway! all was in vain, my nee'le is never the near.
HODGE. Set me a candle, let me seek, and grope wherever it be.
Gog's heart, ye be foolish (ich think), you know it not, when you it
see.
GAMMER. Come hither, Cock: what, Cock, I say.
COCK. How, Gammer?
GAMMER. Go, hie thee soon, and grope behind the old brass pan,
Which thing when thou hast done,
There shalt thou find an old shoe, wherein, if thou look well,
Thou shalt find lying an inch of white tallow candle;
Light it, and bring it tite away.
COCK. That shall be done anon.
GAMMER. Nay, tarry, Hodge, till thou hast light, and then we'll seek
each one.
HODGE. Come away, ye whoreson boy, are ye asleep? ye must have a crier.
COCK. Ich cannot get the candle light: here is almost no fire.
HODGE. Chill hold thee a penny, chill make thee come, if that ich may
catch thine ears.
Art deaf, thou whoreson boy? Cock, I say; why, canst not hear?
GAMMER. Beat him not, Hodge, but help the boy, and come you two
together.
THE FIRST ACT.
THE FIFTH SCENE.
GAMMER, TIB, COCK, HODGE.
GAMMER. How now, Tib! quick, let's hear what news thou hast brought
hither?
TIB. Chave tost and tumbled yonder heap over and over again,
And winnowed it through my fingers, as men would winnow grain;
Not so much as a hen's turd, but in pieces I tare it.
Or whatsoever clod or clay I found, I did not spare it.
Looking within and eke without, to find your nee'le (alas)
But all in vain and without help your nee'le is where it was.
GAMMER. Alas, my nee'le, we shall never meet! adieu, adieu, for aye.
TIB. Not so, Gammer, we might it find, if we knew where it lay.
COCK. Gog's cross, Gammer, if ye will laugh, look in but at the door,
And see how Hodge lieth trembling and tossing amids the flour.
Raking there some fire to find among the ashes dead,
Where there is not one spark so big as a pin's head:
At last in a dark corner two sparks he thought he sees,
Which were indeed nought else but Gib our cat's two eyes.
Puff, quod Hodge, thinking thereby to have fire without doubt;
With that Gib shut her two eyes, and so the fire was out;
And by and by them opened, even as they were before,
With that the sparks appeared even as they had done of yore;
And even as Hodge blew the fire (as he did think),
Gib, as she felt the blast, straightway began to wink;
Till Hodge fell of swearing, as came best to his turn,
The fire was sure bewitch'd, and therefore would not burn:
At last Gib up the stairs, among the old posts and pins,
And Hodge he hied him after, till broke were both his shins:
Cursing and swearing oaths were never of his making,
That Gib would fire the house, if that she were not taken.
GAMMER. See, here is all the thought that the foolish urchin taketh!
And Tib, me-think, at his elbow almost as merry maketh.
This is all the wit ye have, when others make their moan:
Come down, Hodge, where art thou? and let the cat alone.
HODGE. Gog's heart, help and come up: Gib in her tail hath fire,
And is like to burn all, if she get a little higher.
Come down (quoth you?) nay, then you might count me a patch,[202]
The house cometh down on your heads, if it take once the thatch.
GAMMER. It is the cat's eyes, fool, that shineth in the dark.
HODGE. Hath the cat, do you think, in every eye a spark?
GAMMER. No, but they shine as like fire as ever man see.
HODGE. By the mass, and she burn all, you sh' bear the blame for me.
GAMMER. Come down and help to seek here our nee'le, that it were found;
Down, Tib, on _thy_ knees, I say, down, Cock, to the ground.
To God I make a vow, and so to good Saint Anne,[203]
A candle shall they have a-piece, get it where I can,
If I may my nee'le find in one place or in other.
HODGE. Now a vengeance on Gib light, on Gib and Gib's mother.
And all the generation of cats both far and near.
Look on the ground, whoreson, thinks thou the nee'le is here?
COCK. By my troth, Gammer, me-thought your nee'le here I saw,
But when my fingers touch'd it, I felt it was a straw.