amity.—Wagtail, salute them all; they are friends.
COUN. W. Then, saving my quarrel, to you all.
SHO. To’s all. [_They drink._
COUN. W. Now beshrew your hearts, and[1055] you do not.
SHO. To sweet master Lethe.
LET. Let it flow this way, dear master
Blastfield.—Gentlemen, to you all.
SHO. This Rhenish wine is like the scouring stick to a
gun, it makes the barrel clear; it has an excellent
virtue, it keeps all the sinks in man and woman’s body
sweet in June and July; and, to say truth, if ditches
were not cast once a-year, and drabs once a-month, there
would be no abiding i’ th’ city.
LET. Gentlemen, I’ll make you privy to a letter I sent.
SHO. A letter comes well after privy; it makes amends.
LET. There’s one Quomodo a draper’s daughter in town,
whom for her happy portion I wealthily affect.
REAR. And not for love?—This makes for me his rival:
Bear witness. [_To_ SALEWOOD.
LET. The father does elect me for the man,
The daughter says the same.
SHO. Are you not well?
LET. Yes, all but for the mother; she’s my sickness.
SHO. Byrlady,[1056] and the mother[1057] is a pestilent,
wilful, troublesome sickness, I can tell you, if she
light upon you handsomely.
LET. I find it so: she for a stranger pleads,
Whose name I ha’ not learn’d.
REAR. And e’en now he called me by it. [_Aside._
LET. Now, as my letter told her, since only her consent
kept aloof off,[1058] what might I think on’t but that
she merely[1059] doted upon me herself?
SHO. Very assuredly.
SALE. This makes still for you.
SHO. Did you let it go so, i’faith?
LET. You may believe it, sir.—Now, what says her answer?
SHO. Ay, her answer.
MOTH. G. She says you’re a base, proud knave, and[1060]
like your worship.
LET. How!
SHO. Nay, hear out her answer, or there’s no goodness in
you.
MOTH. G. You ha’ forgot, she says, in what pickle your
worship came up, and brought two of your friends to give
their words for a suit of green kersey.
LET. Drudge, peace, or——
SHO. Shew yourself a gentleman: she had the patience to
read your letter, which was as bad as this can be: what
will she think on’t? not hear her answer!—Speak, good
his drudge.
MOTH. G. And as for her daughter, she hopes she’ll be
ruled by her in time, and not be carried away with a
cast of manchets,[1061] a bottle of wine, and a custard;
which once made her daughter sick, because you came by
it with a bad conscience.
LET. Gentlemen, I’m all in a sweat.
SHO. That’s very wholesome for your body: nay, you must
keep in your arms.
MOTH. G. Then she demanded of me whether I was your
worship’s aunt[1062] or no?
LET. Out, out, out!
MOTH. G. Alas, said I, I am a poor drudge of his! Faith,
and[1063] thou wert his mother, quoth she, he’d make
thee his drudge, I warrant him. Marry, out upon him,
quoth I, an’t like your worship.
LET. Horror, horror! I’m smothered: let me go; torment
me not. [_Exit._
SHO. And[1064] you love me, let’s follow him, gentlemen.
REAR. _and_ SALE. Agreed. [_Exeunt._
SHO. I count a hundred pound well spent to pursue a good
jest, master Easy.
EASY. By my troth, I begin to bear that mind too.
SHO. Well said, i’faith: hang money! good jests are
worth silver at all times.
EASY. They’re worth gold, master Blastfield.
[_Exeunt all except Country Wench and her Father._
COUN. W. Do you deceive me so? Are you toward marriage,
i’faith, master Lethe? it shall go hard but I’ll forbid
the banes:[1065] I’ll send a messenger into your bones,
another into your purse, but I’ll do’t. [_Exit._
FA. Thou fair and wicked creature, steept in art!
Beauteous and fresh, the soul the foulest part.
A common filth is like a house possest,
Where, if not spoil’d, you’ll come out ’fraid at least.
This service likes[1066] not me: though I rest poor,
I hate the basest use to screen a whore.
The human stroke ne’er made him; he that can
Be bawd to woman never leapt from man;
Some monster won his mother.
I wish’d my poor child hither; doubled wrong!
A month and such a mistress were too long.
Yet here awhile in others’ lives I’ll see
How former follies did appear in me. [_Exit._
SCENE II.
_A Street._
_Enter_ EASY _and Boy_.
EASY. Boy.
BOY. Anon, sir.
EASY. Where left you master Blastfield, your master, say
you?
BOY. An hour since I left him in Paul’s,[1067] sir:—but
you’ll not find him the same man again next time you
meet him. [_Aside._
EASY. Methinks I have no being without his company; ’tis
so full of kindness and delight: I hold him to be the
only companion in earth.
BOY. Ay, as companions go now-a-days, that help to spend
a man’s money. [_Aside._
EASY. So full of nimble wit, various discourse, pregnant
apprehension, and uncommon entertainment! he might keep
company with any lord for his grace.
BOY. Ay, with any lord that were past it. [_Aside._
EASY. And such a good, free-hearted, honest, affable
kind of gentleman.—Come, boy, a heaviness will possess
me till I see him. [_Exit._
BOY. But you’ll find yourself heavier then, by a seven
hundred pound weight. Alas, poor birds that cannot keep
the sweet country, where they fly at pleasure, but must
needs come to London to have their wings clipt, and are
fain to go hopping home again! [_Exit._
SCENE III.
_A Street near St. Paul’s._
_Enter_ SHORTYARD _and_ FALSELIGHT _disguised as a
Sergeant and a Yeoman_.
SHO. So, no man is so impudent to deny that:
spirits[1068] can change their shapes, and soonest of
all into sergeants, because they are cousin-germans to
spirits; for there’s but two kind of arrests till
doomsday,—the devil for the soul, the sergeant for the
body; but afterward the devil arrests body and soul,
sergeant and all, if they be knaves still and deserve
it. Now, my yeoman Falselight.
FAL. I attend you, good sergeant Shortyard.
SNO. No more master Blastfield now. Poor Easy, hardly
beset!
FAL. But how if he should go to prison? we’re in a mad
state then, being not sergeants.
SHO. Never let it come near thy belief that he’ll take
prison, or stand out in law, knowing the debt to be due,
but still expect the presence of master Blastfield, kind
master Blastfield, worshipful master Blastfield; and at
the last——
BOY. [_within_]. Master Shortyard, master Falselight!
SHO. The boy? a warning-piece.[1069] See where he comes.
_Enter_ EASY _and Boy_.
EASY. Is not in Paul’s.
BOY. He is not far off sure, sir.
EASY. When was his hour, sayst thou?
BOY. Two, sir.
EASY. Why, two has struck.
BOY. No, sir, they are now a-striking.
SHO. Master Richard Easy of Essex, we arrest you.
EASY. Hah?
BOY. Alas, a surgeon! he’s hurt i’ th’ shoulder.
[_Exit._
SHO. Deliver your weapons quietly, sir.
EASY. Why, what’s the matter?
SHO. You’re arrested at the suit of master Quomodo.
EASY. Master Quomodo?
SHO. How strange you make it! You’re a landed gentleman,
sir, I know;[1070] ’tis but a trifle, a bond of seven
hundred pound.
EASY. La, I knew[1071] you had mistook; you should
arrest
One master Blastfield; ’tis his bond, his debt.
SHO. Is not your name there?
EASY. True, for fashion’s sake.
SHO. Why, and ’tis for fashion’s sake that we arrest
you.
EASY. Nay, and[1072] it be no more, I yield to that: I
know master Blastfield will see me take no injury as
long as I’m in town, for master Alsup’s sake.
SHO. Who’s that, sir?
EASY. An honest gentleman in Essex.
SHO. O, in Essex? I thought you had been in London,
where now your business lies: honesty from Essex will be
a great while a-coming, sir; you should look out an
honest pair of citizens.
EASY. Alas, sir, I know not where to find ’em!
SHO. No? there’s enow in town.
EASY. I know not one, by my troth; I am a mere stranger
for these parts: master Quomodo is all, and the
honestest that I know.
SHO. To him then let’s set forward.—Yeoman Spiderman,
cast an eye about for master Blastfield.
EASY. Boy.—Alas, the poor boy was frighted away at
first!
SHO. Can you blame him, sir? we that daily fray away
knights, may fright away boys, I hope. [_Exeunt._
SCENE IV.
QUOMODO’s _Shop_.
_Enter_ QUOMODO _and Boy_; THOMASINE _watching above_.
QUO. Ha! have they him, sayst thou?
BOY. As sure as——
QUO. The land’s mine: that’s sure enough, boy.
Let me advance thee, knave, and give thee a kiss:
My plot’s so firm, I dare it now to miss.
Now shall I be divulg’d a landed man
Throughout the livery: one points, another whispers,
A third frets inwardly; let him fret and hang!
Especially his envy I shall have
That would be fain, yet cannot be a knave;
Like an old lecher[1073] girt in a[1074] furr’d gown,
Whose mind stands stiff, but his performance down.
Now come my golden days in. Whither is the worshipful
master Quomodo and his fair bedfellow rid forth? To his
land in Essex. Whence come[1075] those goodly load[s] of
logs? From his land in Essex. Where grows this pleasant
fruit, says one citizen’s wife in the row? At master
Quomodo’s orchard in Essex. O, O, does it so? I thank
you for that good news, i’faith.
BOY. Here they come with him, sir. [_Exit._
QUO. Grant me patience in my joys, that being so great,
I run not mad with ’em!
_Enter_ SHORTYARD _and_ FALSELIGHT _disguised as before,
bringing in_ EASY.
SHO. Bless master Quomodo!
QUO. How now, sergeants? who ha’ you brought me
here?—Master Easy!
EASY. Why, la you now, sergeants; did I not tell you you
mistook?
QUO. Did you not hear me say, I had rather ha’ had
master Blastfield, the more sufficient man a great deal?
SHO. Very true, sir; but this gentleman lighting into
our hands first——
QUO. Why did you so, sir?
SHO. We thought good to make use of that opportunity,
and hold him fast.
QUO. You did well in that, I must needs say, for your
own securities: but ’twas not my mind, master Easy, to
have you first; you must needs think so.
EASY. I dare swear that, master Quomodo.
QUO. But since you are come to me, I have no reason to
refuse you; I should shew little manners in that, sir.
EASY. But I hope you spake not in that sense, sir, to
impose the bond upon me?
QUO. By my troth, that’s my meaning, sir; you shall find
me an honest man; you see I mean what I say. Is not the
day past, the money untendered? you’d ha’ me live
uprightly, master Easy?
EASY. Why, sir, you know master Blastfield is the man.
QUO. Why, sir, I know master Blastfield is the man; but
is he any more than one man? Two entered into bond to
me, or I’m foully cozened.
EASY. You know my entrance was but for fashion sake.
QUO. Why, I’ll agree to you: you’ll grant ’tis the
fashion likewise, when the bond’s due, to have the money
paid again.
SHO. So we told him, sir, and that it lay in your
worship’s courtesy to arrest which you please.
QUO. Marry, does it, sir—these fellows know the
law—beside, you offered yourself into bond to me,
you know, when I had no stomach to you: now beshrew
your heart for your labour! I might ha’ had a good
substantial citizen, that would ha’ paid the sum
roundly, although I think you sufficient enough for
seven hundred pound: beside the forfeiture, I would
be loath to disgrace you so much before sergeants.
EASY. If you would ha’ the patience, sir, I do not think
but master Blastfield is at carrier’s receive the money.
QUO. He will prove the honester man then, and you the
better discharged. I wonder he should break with me;
’twas never his practice. You must not be angry with me
now, though you were somewhat hot when you entered into
bond; you may easily go in angrily, but you cannot come
out so.
EASY. No, the devil’s in’t for that!
SHO. Do you hear, sir? a’ my troth, we pity you: ha’ you
any store of crowns about you?
EASY. Faith, a poor store; yet they shall be at their
service that will strive to do me good.—We were both
drunk last night, and ne’er thought upon the bond.
[_Aside._
SHO. I must tell you this, you have fell into the hands
of a most merciless devourer, the very gull a’ the city:
should you offer him money, goods, or lands now, he’d
rather have your body in prison, he’s a’ such a nature.
EASY. Prison? we’re undone then!
SHO. He’s a’ such a nature, look; let him owe any man a
spite, what’s his course? he will lend him money to-day,
a’ purpose to ’rest him to-morrow.
EASY. Defend me!
SHO. Has at least sixteen at this instant proceeded in
both the counters;[1077] some bachelors,[1078] some
masters, some doctors of captivity of twenty years’
standing; and he desires nothing more than imprisonment.
EASY. Would master Blastfield would come away!
SHO. Ay, then things would not be as they are. What will
you say to us, if we procure you two substantial subsidy
citizens to bail you, spite on’s heart, and set you at
liberty to find out master Blastfield?
EASY. Sergeant, here, take all; I’ll be dear to you, do
but perform it.
SHO. Much![1079]
FAL.[1080] Enough, sweet sergeant; I hope I understand
thee.
SHO. I love to prevent the malice of such a rascal;
perhaps you might find master Blastfield to-night.
EASY. Why, we lie together, man; there’s the jest on’t.
SHO. Fie: and you’ll seek to secure your bail, because
they will be two citizens of good account, you must do
that for your credit sake.
EASY. I’ll be bound to save them harmless.
SHO. A pox on him, you cut his throat then: no words.
EASY. What’s it you require me, master Quomodo?
QUO. You know that before this time, I hope, sir;
present money, or present imprisonment.
SHO. I told you so.
EASY. We ne’er had money of you.
QUO. You had commodities, an’t please you.
EASY. Well, may I not crave so much liberty upon my
word, to seek out master Blastfield?
QUO. Yes, and[1081] you would not laugh at me: we are
sometimes gulls to gentlemen, I thank ’em; but gentlemen
are never gulls to us, I commend ’em.
SHO. Under your leave, master Quomodo, the gentleman
craves the furtherance of an hour; and it sorts well
with our occasion at this time, having a little urgent
business at Guildhall; at which minute we’ll return, and
see what agreement is made.
QUO. Nay, take him along with you, sergeant.
EASY. I’m undone then!
SHO. He’s your prisoner; and being safe in your house at
your own disposing, you cannot deny him such a request:
beside, he hath a little faith in master Blastfield’s
coming, sir.
QUO. Let me not be too long delayed, I charge you.
EASY.[1082] Not an hour, i’faith, sir.
[_Exeunt_ SHORTYARD _and_ FALSELIGHT.
QUO. O master Easy, of all men living I never dreamed
you would ha’ done me this injury! make me wound my
credit, fail in my commodities, bring[1083] my state
into suspicion! for the breaking of your day to me has
broken my day to others.
EASY. You tell me of that still which is no fault of
mine, master Quomodo.
QUO. O, what’s a man but his honesty, master Easy? and
that’s a fault amongst most of us all. Mark but this
note; I’ll give you good counsel now. As often as you
give your name to a bond, you must think you christen a
child, and take the charge on’t, too; for as the one,
the bigger it grows, the more cost it requires, so the
other, the longer it lies, the more charges it puts you
to. Only here’s the difference; a child must be broke,
and a bond must not; the more you break children, the
more you keep ’emunder; but the more you break bonds,
the more they’ll leap in your face; and therefore, to
conclude, I would never undertake to be gossip[1084] to
that bond which I would not see well brought up.
EASY. Say you so, sir? I’ll think upon your counsel
hereafter for’t.
QUO. Ah fool, thou shouldest ne’er ha’ tasted such wit,
but that I know ’tis too late! [_Aside._
THO. The more I grieve. [_Aside._
QUO. To put all this into the compass of a little hoop-
ring,—
Make this account, come better days or worse,
So many bonds abroad, so many boys at nurse.
EASY. A good medicine for a short memory: but since you
have entered so far, whose children are desperate debts,
I pray?
QUO. Faith, they are like the offsprings of stolen lust,
put to the hospital: their fathers are not to be found;
they are either too far abroad, or too close within: and
thus for your memory’s sake,—
The desperate debtor hence derives his name,
One that has neither money, land, nor fame;
All that he makes prove bastards, and not bands:[1085]
But such as yours at first are born to lands.
EASY. But all that I beget hereafter I’ll soon
disinherit, master Quomodo.
QUO. In the meantime, here’s a shrewd knave will
disinherit you. [_Aside._
EASY. Well, to put you out of all doubt, master Quomodo,
I’ll not trust to your courtesy; I ha’ sent for bail.
QUO. How? you’ve cozened me there, i’faith!
EASY. Since the worst comes to the worst, I have those
friends i’ th’ city, I hope, that will not suffer me to
lie for seven hundred pound.
QUO. And you told me you had no friends here at all: how
should a man trust you now?
EASY. That was but to try your courtesy, master Quomodo.
QUO. How unconscionably he gulls himself!
[_Aside._]—They must be wealthy subsidy-men, sir, at
least forty pound i’ th’ king’s books, I can tell you,
that do such a feat for you.
_Re-enter_ SHORTYARD _and_ FALSELIGHT, _disguised as
wealthy citizens in satin suits_.
EASY. Here they come, whatsoe’er they are.
QUO. Byrlady,[1086] alderman’s deputies!—I am very sorry
for you, sir; I cannot refuse such men.
SHO. Are you the gentleman in distress?
EASY. None more than myself, sir.
QUO. He speaks truer than he thinks; for if he knew the
hearts that owe[1087] those faces! A dark shop’s good
for somewhat.[1088] [_Aside._
EASY. That was all, sir.
SHO. And that’s enough; for by that means you have made
yourself liable to the bond, as well as that Basefield.
EASY. Blastfield, sir.
SHO. O, cry you mercy; ’tis Blastfield indeed.
EASY. But, under both your worships’ favours, I know
where to find him presently.
SHO. That’s all your refuge.
_Re-enter Boy._
BOY. News, good news, master Easy!
EASY. What, boy?
BOY. Master Blastfield, my master, has received a
thousand pound, and will be at his lodging at supper.
EASY. Happy news! Hear you that, master Quomodo?
QUO. ’Tis enough for you to hear that; you’re the
fortunate man, sir.
EASY. Not now, I beseech your good worships.
SHO. Gentleman, what’s your t’other name?
EASY. Easy.
SHO. O, master Easy. I would we could rather pleasure
you otherwise, master Easy; you should soon perceive it.
I’ll speak a proud word: we have pitied more gentlemen
in distress than any two citizens within the freedom;
but to be bail to seven hundred pound action is a matter
of shrewd weight.
EASY. I’ll be bound to secure you.
SHO. Tut, what’s your bond, sir?
EASY. Body, goods, and lands, immediately before master
Quomodo.
SHO. Shall we venture once again, that have been so
often undone by gentlemen?
FAL. I have no great stomach to’t; it will appear in us
more pity than wisdom.
EASY. Why should you say so, sir?
SHO. I like the gentleman’s face well; he does not look
as if he would deceive us.
EASY. O, not I, sir!
SHO. Come, we’ll make a desperate voyage once again;
we’ll try his honesty, and take his single bond, of
body, goods, and lands.
EASY. I dearly thank you, sir.
SHO. Master Quomodo——
QUO. Your worships.
SHO. We have took a course to set your prisoner free.
QUO. Your worships are good bail; you content me.
SHO. Come, then, and be a witness to a
recullisance.[1089]
QUO. With all my heart, sir.
SHO. Master Easy, you must have an especial care now to
find out that Blastfield.
EASY. I shall have him at my lodging, sir.
SHO. The suit will be followed against you else; master
Quomodo will come upon us, and forsake you.
EASY. I know that, sir.
SHO. Well, since I see you have such a good mind to be
honest, I’ll leave some greater affairs, and sweat with
you to find him myself.
EASY. Here then my misery ends:
A stranger’s kindness oft exceeds a friend’s. [_Exeunt._
THO. Thou art deceiv’d; thy misery but begins:
To beguile goodness is the core of sins.
My love is such unto thee, that I die
As often as thou drink’st up injury;
Yet have no means to warn thee from’t, for he
That sows in craft does reap in jealousy.
[_Exit above._
SCENE V.
_A Street._
_Enter_ REARAGE _and_ SALEWOOD.
REAR. Now the letter’s made up and all; it wants but
the print of a seal, and away it goes to master Quomodo.
Andrew Lethe is well whipt in’t; his name stands in a
white sheet here, and does penance for him.
SALE. You have shame enough against him, if that be
good.
REAR. First, as a contempt of that reverend ceremony he
has in hand, to wit, marriage.
SALE. Why do you say, to wit, marriage, when you know
there’s none will marry that’s wise?
REAR. Had it not more need then to have wit to put to’t,
if it be grown to a folly?
SALE. You’ve won; I’ll give’t you.
REAR. ’Tis no thanks now: but, as I was saying, as
a foul contempt to that sacred ceremony, he most
audaciously keeps a drab in town, and, to be free
from the interruption of blue beadles[1090] and
other bawdy officers, he most politicly lodges her
in a constable’s house.
SALE. That’s a pretty point, i’faith.
REAR. And so the watch, that should fetch her out, are
her chiefest guard to keep her in.
SALE. It must needs be; for look, how the constable
plays his conscience, the watchmen will follow the suit.
REAR. Why, well then.
_Enter_ EASY, _and_ SHORTYARD _disguised as
before_.[1091]
EASY. All night from me? he’s hurt, he’s made away!
SHO. Where shall we seek him now? you lead me fair
jaunts, sir.
EASY. Pray, keep a little patience, sir; I shall find
him at last, you shall see.
SHO. A citizen of my ease and substance to walk so long
a-foot!
EASY. You should ha’ had my horse, but that he has eaten
out his head, sir.
SHO. How? would you had me hold him by the tail, sir,
then?
EASY. Manners forbid! ’tis no part of my meaning, sir.
O, here’s master Rearage and master Salewood: now we
shall hear of him presently.—Gentlemen both.
SALE. Master Easy? how fare you, sir?
EASY. Very well in health. Did you see master Blastfield
this morning?
SALE. I was about to move it to you.
REAR. We were all three in a mind then.
SALE. I ha’ not set eye on him these two days.
REAR. I wonder he keeps so long from us, i’faith.
EASY. I begin to be sick.
SALE. Why, what’s the matter?
EASY. Nothing in troth, but a great desire I had to have
seen him.
REAR. I wonder you should miss on’t lately; you’re his
bedfellow.[1092]
EASY. I lay alone to-night, i’faith, I do not know how.
O, here comes master Lethe; he can despatch me.—
_Enter_ LETHE.
Master Lethe.
LET. What’s your name, sir? O, cry you mercy, master
Easy.
EASY. When parted you from master Blastfield, sir?
LET. Blastfield’s an ass: I have sought him these two
days to beat him.
EASY. Yourself all alone, sir?
LET. Ay, and three more. [_Exit._
SHO. I am glad I am where I am, then; I perceive ’twas
time of all hands. [_Aside._
REAR. Content, i’faith; let’s trace him.
[_Exit with_ SALEWOOD.
SHO. What, have you found him yet? neither? what’s to be
done now? I’ll venture my body no further for any
gentleman’s pleasure: I know not how soon I may be
called upon, and now to overheat myself——
EASY. I’m undone!
SHO. This is you that slept with him! you can make fools
of us; but I’ll turn you over to Quomodo for’t.
EASY. Good sir——
SHO. I’ll prevent mine own danger.
EASY. I beseech you, sir——
SHO. Though I love gentlemen well, I do not mean to be
undone for ’em.
EASY. Pray, sir, let me request you, sir; sweet sir, I
beseech you, sir—— [_Exeunt._
ACT IV. SCENE I.
QUOMODO’s _Shop_.
_Enter_ QUOMODO, SHORTYARD _and_ FALSELIGHT _disguised
as before,[1093] after whom_ EASY _follows hard_.
SHO. Made fools of us! not to be found!
QUO. What, what?
EASY. Do not undo me quite, though, master Quomodo.
QUO. You’re very welcome, master Easy: I ha’ nothing to
say to you; I’ll not touch you; you may go when you
please; I have good bail here, I thank their worships.
EASY. What shall I say, or whom shall I beseech?
SHO. Gentlemen! ’slid, they were born to undo us, I
think: but, for my part, I’ll make an oath before master
Quomodo here, ne’er to do gentlemen good while I live.
FAL. I’ll not be long behind you.
SHO. Away! if you had any grace in you, you would be
ashamed to look us i’ th’ face, i-wis:[1094] I wonder
with what brow you can come amongst us. I should seek my
fortunes far enough, if I were you; and neither return
to Essex, to be a shame to my predecessors, nor remain
about London, to be a mock to my successors.
QUO. Subtle Shortyard! [_Aside._
SHO. Here are his lands forfeited to us, master Quomodo;
and to avoid the inconscionable trouble of law, all the
assurance he made to us we willingly resign to you.
QUO. What shall I do with rubbish? give me money: ’tis
for your worships to have land, that keep great houses;
I should be hoisted.
SHO. But, master Quomodo, if you would but conceive it
aright, the land would fall fitter to you than to us.
EASY. Curtsying about my land! [_Aside._
SHO. You have a towardly son and heir, as we hear.
QUO. I must needs say, he is a Templar indeed.
SHO. We have neither posterity in town, nor hope for any
abroad: we have wives, but the marks have been out of
their mouths these twenty years; and, as it appears,
they did little good when they were in. We could not
stand about it, sir; to get riches and children too,
’tis more than one man can do: and I am of those
citizens’ minds that say, let our wives make shift for
children and[1095] they will, they get none of us; and I
cannot think, but he that has both much wealth and many
children has had more helps coming in than himself.
QUO. I am not a bow wide[1096] of your mind, sir: and
for the thrifty and covetous hopes I have in my son and
heir, Sim Quomodo, that he will never trust his land in
wax and parchment, as many gentlemen have done before
him——
EASY. A by-blow for me. [_Aside._
_Enter_ THOMASINE.
QUO. I will honestly discharge you, and receive it in
due form and order of law, to strengthen it for ever to
my son and heir, that he may undoubtedly enter upon’t
without the let[1097] or molestation of any man, at his
or our pleasure whensoever.
SHO. ’Tis so assured unto you.
QUO. Why, then, master Easy, you’re a free man, sir; you
may deal in what you please, and go whither you
will.—Why, Thomasine, master Easy is come from Essex;
bid him welcome in a cup of small beer.
THO. Not only vild,[1098] but in it tyrannous.
[_Aside._
QUO. If it please you, sir, you know the house; you may
visit us often, and dine with us once a-quarter.
EASY. Confusion light on you, your wealth, and heir!
Worm gnaw your conscience as the moth your ware!
I am not the first heir that robb’d or begg’d.
[_Exit._
QUO. Excellent, excellent, sweet spirits![1099]
[_Exit_ THOMASINE.
SHO. Landed master Quomodo!
QUO. Delicate Shortyard, commodious Falselight,
Hug and away, shift, shift:
’Tis slight,[1100] not strength, that gives the greatest
lift. [_Exeunt_ SHORTYARD _and_ FALSELIGHT.
Now my desires are full,—for this time.
Men may have cormorant wishes, but, alas,
A little thing, three hundred pound a-year,
Suffices nature, keeps life and soul together!
I’ll have ’emlopt[1101] immediately; I long
To warm myself by th’ wood.
A fine journey in the Whitsun holydays, i’faith, to
ride down with a number of citizens and their wives,
some upon pillions, some upon side-saddles, I and
little Thomasine i’ th’ middle, our son and heir, Sim
Quomodo, in a peach-colour taffeta jacket, some horse-
length, or a long yard before us;—there will be a fine
show on’s, I can tell you;—where we citizens will
laugh and lie down,[1102] get all our wives with child
against a bank, and get up again. Stay; hah! hast thou
that wit, i’faith? ’twill be admirable: to see how the
very thought of green fields puts a man into sweet
inventions! I will presently possess Sim Quomodo of
all the land; I have a toy[1103] and I’ll do’t: and
because I see before mine eyes that most of our heirs
prove notorious rioters after our deaths, and that
cozenage in the father wheels about to folly in the
son, our posterity commonly foiled at the same weapon
at which we played rarely; and being the world’s
beaten[1104] word,—what’s got over the devil’s back
(that’s by knavery) must be spent under his belly
(that’s by lechery): being awake in these knowings,
why should not I oppose ’emnow, and break Destiny of
her custom, preventing that by policy, which without
it must needs be destiny? And I have took the course:
I will forthwith sicken, call for my keys, make my
will, and dispose of all; give my son this blessing,
that he trust no man, keep his hand from a quean and a
scrivener, live in his father’s faith, and do good to
nobody: then will I begin to rave like a fellow of a
wide conscience, and, for all the world, counterfeit
to the life that which I know I shall do when I die;
take on[1105] for my gold, my lands, and my writings,
grow worse and worse, call upon the devil, and so make
an end. By this time I have indented with a couple of
searchers,[1106] who, to uphold my device, shall fray
them out a’ th’ chamber with report of sickness; and
so, la, I start up, and recover again! for in this
business I will trust, no, not my spirits,[1107]
Falselight and Shortyard, but, in disguise, note the
condition of all; how pitiful my wife takes my death,
which will appear by November in her eye, and the fall
of the leaf in her body, but especially by the cost
she bestows upon my funeral, there shall I try her
love and regard; my daughter’s marrying to my will and
liking; and my son’s affection after my disposing:
for, to conclude, I am as jealous of this land as of
my wife, to know what would become of it after my
decease. [_Exit._
SCENE II.
_The Country Wench’s Lodging._
_Enter Country Wench and Father._
FA. Though I be poor, ’tis my glory to live honest.
COUN. W. I prithee, do not leave me.
FA. To be bawd!
Hell has not such an office.
I thought at first your mind had been preserv’d
In virtue and in modesty of blood;
That such a face had not been made to please
Th’ unsettled appetites of several men;
Those eyes turn’d up through prayer, not through lust:
But you are wicked, and my thoughts unjust.
COUN. W. Why, thou art an unreasonable fellow, i’faith.
Do not all trades live by their ware, and yet called
honest livers? do they not thrive best when they utter
most, and make it away by the great?[1108] is not whole-
sale the chiefest merchandise? do you think some
merchants could keep their wives so brave[1109] but for
their whole-sale? you’re foully deceived and[1110] you
think so.
FA. You are so glu’d to punishment and shame.
Your words e’en deserve whipping.
To bear the habit of a gentlewoman,
And be in mind so distant!
COUN. W. Why, you fool you, are not gentlewomen sinners?
and there’s no courageous sinner amongst us but was a
gentlewoman by the mother’s side, I warrant you:
besides, we are not always bound to think those our
fathers that marry our mothers, but those that lie with
our mothers; and they may be gentlemen born, and born
again for ought we know, you know.
FA. True:
Corruption may well be generation’s first;
We’re bad by nature, but by custom worst.
[_Exeunt._
SCENE III.
QUOMODO’s _Shop_.
THO. [_within_] O, my husband![1111]'
SIM. [_within_] My father, O, my father!
FAL. [_within_] My sweet master, dead!
_Enter_ SHORTYARD _and Boy_.
SHO. Run, boy; bid ’em ring out; he’s dead, he’s
gone.
BOY. Then is as arrant a knave gone as e’er was called
upon. [_Exit._
SHO. The happiest good that ever Shortyard felt!
I want to be express’d, my mirth is such.
To be struck now e’en when his joys were high!
Men only kiss their knaveries, and so die;
I’ve often mark’d it.
He was a famous cozener while he liv’d,
And now his son shall reap’t;[1112] I’ll ha’ the lands,
Let him study law after; ’tis no labour
To undo him for ever: but for Easy,
Only good confidence did make him foolish,
And not the lack of sense; that was not it:
’Tis worldly craft beats down a scholar’s wit.
For this our son and heir now, he
From his conception was entail’d an ass,
And he has kept it well, twenty-five years now:
Then the slightest art will do’t; the lands lie fair:
No sin to beggar a deceiver’s heir. [_Exit._
[_Bell tolls._
_Enter_ THOMASINE _and_ WINEFRED _in haste_.
THO. Here, Winefred, here, here, here; I have always
found thee secret.
WIN. You shall always find me so, mistress.
THO. Take this letter and this ring——
[_Giving them._
WIN. Yes, forsooth.
THO. O, how all the parts about me shake!—inquire for
one master Easy, at his old lodging i’ the Blackfriars.
WIN. I will indeed, forsooth.
THO. Tell him, the party that sent him a hundred pound
t’other day to comfort his heart, has likewise sent him
this letter and this ring, which has that virtue to
recover him again for ever, say: name nobody, Winefred.
WIN. Not so much as you, forsooth.
THO. Good girl! thou shalt have a mourning-gown at the
burial of mine honesty.
WIN. And I’ll effect your will a’ my fidelity.
[_Exit._
THO. I do account myself the happiest widow that ever
counterfeited weeping, in that I have the leisure now
both to do that gentleman good and do myself a pleasure;
but I must seem like a hanging moon, a little waterish
awhile.
_Enter_ REARAGE _and Country Wench’s Father_.
REAR. I entertain both thee and thy device;
’Twill put ’emboth to shame.
FA. That is my hope, sir;
Especially that strumpet.
REAR. Save you, sweet widow!
I suffer for your heaviness.
THO. O master Rearage, I have lost the dearest husband
that ever woman did enjoy!
REAR. You must have patience yet.
THO. O, talk not to me of patience, and[1113] you love
me, good master Rearage.
REAR. Yet, if all tongues go right, he did not use you
so well as a man mought.[1114]
THO. Nay, that’s true indeed, master Rearage; he ne’er
used me so well as a woman might have been used, that’s
certain; in troth, ’t’as been our greatest falling out,
sir; and though it be the part of a widow to shew
herself a woman for her husband’s death, yet when I
remember all his unkindness, I cannot weep a stroke,
i’faith, master Rearage: and, therefore, wisely did a
great widow in this land comfort up another; Go to,
lady, quoth she, leave blubbering; thou thinkest upon
thy husband’s good parts when thou sheddest tears; do
but remember how often he has lain from thee, and how
many naughty slippery turns he has done thee, and thou
wilt ne’er weep for him, I warrant thee. You would not
think how that counsel has wrought with me, master
Rearage; I could not dispend another tear now, and[1115]
you would give me ne’er so much.
REAR. Why, I count you the wiser, widow; it shews you
have wisdom when you can check your passion:[1116] for
mine own part, I have no sense to sorrow for his death,
whose life was the only rub to my affection.
THO. Troth, and so it was to mine: but take courage now;
you’re a landed gentleman, and my daughter is seven
hundred pound strong to join with you.
REAR. But Lethe lies i’ th’ way.
THO. Let him lie still: You shall tread o’er him, or
I’ll fail in will.
REAR. Sweet widow! [_Exeunt._
SCENE IV.
_Before_ QUOMODO’s _door_.
_Enter_ QUOMODO _disguised as a Beadle_.
QUO. What a beloved man did I live! My servants gall
their fingers with ringing,[1117] my wife’s cheeks smart
with weeping, tears stand in every corner,—you may take
water in my house. But am not I a wise fool now? what if
my wife should take my death so to heart that she should
sicken upon’t, nay, swoon, nay, die? When did I hear of
a woman do so? let me see; now I remember me, I think
’twas before my time; yes, I have heard of those wives
that have wept, and sobbed, and swooned; marry, I never
heard but they recovered again; that’s a comfort, la,
that’s a comfort; and I hope so will mine. Peace; ’tis
near upon the time, I see: here comes the worshipful
Livery; I have the hospital boys;[1118] I perceive
little Thomasine will bestow cost of me.
I’ll listen to the common censure[1119] now,
How the world tongues me when my ear lies low.
_Enter the Livery, &c._
FIRST LIVERYMAN. Who, Quomodo? merely enrich’d by
shifts
And cozenages, believe it.
QUO. I see the world is very loath to praise me;
’Tis rawly friends with me: I cannot blame it,
For what I’ve[1120] done has been to vex and shame it.
Here comes my son, the hope, the landed heir,
One[1121] whose rare thrift will say, men’s tongues you
lie,
I’ll keep by law what was got craftily.
_Enter_ SIM.
Methinks I hear him say so:
He does salute the Livery with good grace
And solemn gesture. [_Aside._
O my young worshipful master, you have parted from a
dear father, a wise and provident father!
SIM. Art thou grown an ass now?
QUO. Such an honest father——
SIM. Prithee, beadle, leave thy lying; I am scarce able
to endure thee, i’faith: what honesty didst thou e’er
know by my father, speak? Rule your tongue, beadle, lest
I make you prove it; and then I know what will become of
you: ’tis the scurviest thing i’ th’ earth to belie the
dead so, and he’s a beastly son and heir that will stand
by and hear his father belied to his face; he will ne’er
prosper, I warrant him. Troth, if I be not ashamed to go
to church with him, I would I might be hanged; I
hear[1122] such filthy tales go on him. O, if I had
known he had been such a lewd[1123] fellow in his life,
he should ne’er have kept me company!
QUO. O, O, O! [_Aside._
SIM. But I am glad he’s gone, though ’twere long first:
Shortyard and I will revel it, i’faith; I have made him
my rent-gatherer already.
QUO. He shall be speedily disinherited, he gets not a
foot, not the crown of a mole-hill: I’ll sooner make a
courtier my heir, for teaching my wife tricks, than
thee, my most neglectful son. O, now the corse; I shall
observe yet farther. [_Aside._
_A coffin brought in,[1124] followed by_ THOMASINE,
SUSAN, THOMASINE’S _Mother, and other mourners_.
O my most modest, virtuous, and remembering wife! she
shall have all when I die, she shall have all.
[_Aside._
_Enter_ EASY.
THO. Master Easy? ’tis: O, what shift shall I make now?
[_Aside._]—O!
[_Falls down in a feigned swoon, while the coffin is
carried out; the mourners, except_ THOMASINE’S
_Mother, following it_.
QUO. Sweet wife, she swoons: I’ll let her alone, I’ll
have no mercy at this time; I’ll not see her, I’ll
follow the corse. [_Aside, and exit._
EASY. The devil grind thy bones, thou cozening rascal!
T.’S MOTH[1125] Give her a little more air; tilt up her
head.—Comfort thyself, good widow; do not fall like a
beast for a husband: there’s more than we can well tell
where to put ’em, good soul.
THO. O, I shall be well anon.
T.’S MOTH. Fie, you have no patience, i’faith: I have
buried four husbands, and never offered ’em such abuse.
THO. Cousin,[1126] how do you?
EASY. Sorry to see you ill, coz.
THO. The worst is past, I hope.
[_Pointing after the coffin._
EASY. I hope so too.
THO. Lend me your hand, sweet coz; I’ve[1127] troubled
you.
T.’S MOTH. No trouble indeed, forsooth.—Good cousin,
have a care of her, comfort her up as much as you can,
and all little enough, I warrant ye. [_Exit._
THO. My most sweet love!
EASY. My life is not so dear.
THO. I’ve[1128] always pitied you.
EASY. You’ve shewn it here,
And given the desperate hope.
THO. Delay not now; you’ve understood my love;
I’ve[1129] a priest ready; this is the fittest season.
No eye offends us: let this kiss[1130]
Restore thee to more wealth, me to more bliss.
EASY. The angels have provided for me. [_Exeunt._
ACT V. SCENE I.
QUOMODO’S _Shop_.
_Enter_ SHORTYARD _with writings_.[1131]
SHO. I have not scope enough within my breast
To keep my joys contain’d: I’m Quomodo’s heir;
The lands, assurances, and all are mine:
I’ve[1132] tript his son’s heels up above the ground
His father left him: had I not encouragement?
Do not I know, what proves the father’s prey,
The son ne’er looks on’t, but it melts away?
Do not I know, the wealth that’s got by fraud,
Slaves share it, like the riches of a bawd?
Why, ’tis a curse unquenchable, ne’er cools;
Knaves still commit their consciences to fools,
And they betray who ow’d ’em. Here’s all the bonds,
All Easy’s writings: let me see. [_Reads._
_Enter_ THOMASINE _and_ EASY.[1133]
THO. Now my desires wear crowns.
EASY. My joys exceed:
Man is ne’er healthful till his follies bleed.
THO. O,
Behold the villain, who in all those shapes
Confounded your estate!
EASY. That slave! that villain!
SHO. So many acres of good meadow——
EASY. Rascal!
SHO. I hear you, sir.
EASY. Rogue, Shortyard, Blastfield, sergeant, deputy,
cozener!
SHO. Hold, hold!
EASY. I thirst the execution of his ears.
THO. Hate you that office.
EASY. I’ll strip him bare for punishment and shame.
SHO. Why, do but hear me, sir; you will not think
What I’ve[1134] done for you.
EASY. Given his son my lands!
SHO. Why, look you, ’tis not so; you’re not told true:
I’ve cozen’d him again merely for you,
Merely for you, sir; ’twas my meaning then
That you should wed her, and have all agen.[1135]
A’ my troth, it’s true, sir: look you then here, sir:
[_Giving the writings._
You shall not miss a little scroll, sir. Pray, sir,
Let not the city know me for a knave;
There be richer men would envy my preferment,
If I should be known before ’em.
EASY. Villain, my hate to more revenge is drawn:
When slaves are found, ’tis their base art to fawn.—
Within there!
_Enter Officers[1136] with_ FALSELIGHT _bound_.
SHO. How now? fresh warders!
EASY. This is the other, bind him fast.—Have I found
you,
Master Blastfield? [_Officers bind_ SHORTYARD.
SHO. This is the fruit of craft:
Like him that shoots up high, looks for the shaft,
And finds it in his forehead, so does hit
The arrow of our fate; wit destroys wit;
The head the body’s bane and his own bears.—
You ha’ corn enough, you need not reap mine ears,
Sweet master Blastfield!
EASY. I loathe his voice; away!
[_Exeunt Officers with_ SHORTYARD _and_ FALSELIGHT.
THO. What happiness was here! but are you sure you have
all?
EASY. I hope so, my sweet wife.
THO. What difference there is in husbands! not only in
one thing but in all.
EASY. Here’s good deeds and bad deeds; the writings that
keep my land[1137] to me, and the bonds that gave it
away from me.
These, my good deeds, shall to more safety turn,
And these, my bad, have their deserts and burn.
I’ll see thee again presently: read there. [_Exit._
THO. Did he want all, who would not love his care?
[_Reads the writings._
_Enter_ QUOMODO _disguised as before_.[1138]
QUO. What a wife hast thou, Ephestian Quomodo! so
loving, so mindful of her duty; not only seen to
weep, but known to swoon! I knew a widow about Saint
Antling’s[1139] so forgetful of her first husband,
that she married again within the twelvemonth; nay,
some, byrlady,[1140] within the month: there were
sights to be seen! Had they my wife’s true sorrows,
seven [months] nor seven years would draw ’em to the
stake. I would most tradesmen had such a wife as I:
they hope they have; we must all hope the best: thus
in her honour,—
A modest wife is such a jewel,
Every goldsmith cannot shew it:
He that’s honest and not cruel
Is the likeliest man to owe[1141] it—
and that’s I: I made it by myself; and coming to her as
a beadle for my reward this morning, I’ll see how she
takes my death next her heart. [_Aside._
THO. Now, beadle.
QUO. Bless your mistresship’s eyes from too many tears,
although you have lost a wise and worshipful gentleman.
THO. You come for your due, beadle, here i’ th’ house?
QUO. Most certain; the hospital money, and mine own poor
forty pence.
THO. I must crave a discharge from you, beadle.
QUO. Call your man; I’ll heartily set my hand to a
memorandum.
THO. You deal the truelier.
QUO. Good wench still. [_Aside._
THO. George!
_Enter Servant._
here is the beadle come for his money; draw a memorandum
that he has received all his due he can claim here i’
th’ house after this funeral.
QUO. [_Aside, while the Servant writes the memorandum_]
What politic directions she gives him, all to secure
herself! ’tis time, i’faith, now to pity her: I’ll
discover myself to her ere I go; but came it off with
some lively jest now, that were admirable. I have it:
after the memorandum is written and all, I’ll set my own
name to ’t, Ephestian Quomodo: she’ll start, she’ll
wonder how Ephestian Quomodo came hither,[1142] that was
buried yesterday: you’re beset,[1143] little Quomodo.
THO. [_running over the memorandum_] Nineteen,
twenty,—five pound, one, two, three [shillings], and
fourpence.
QUO. [_signing it_] So; we shall have good sport when
’tis read. [_Aside._] [_Exit Servant._
_Enter_ EASY, _as_ THOMASINE _is giving the money to_
QUOMODO.
EASY. How now, lady? paying away money so fast?
THO. The beadle’s due here, sir.
QUO. Who’s this?[1144]
’Tis Easy! what makes Easy in my house?
He is not my wife’s overseer, I hope. [_Aside._
EASY. What’s here?
QUO. He makes me sweat! [_Aside._
EASY [_reads_]. _Memorandum, that I have received of
Richard Easy all my due I can claim here i’ th’ house,
or any hereafter for me: in witness whereof I have set
to mine own hand_, EPHESTIAN QUOMODO.
QUO. What have I done! was I mad? [_Aside._
EASY. _Ephestian Quomodo?_
QUO. Ay; well, what then, sir? get you out of my house
first,
You master prodigal Had-land;[1145] away!
THO. What, is the beadle drunk or mad?
Where are my men to thrust him out a’ doors?
QUO. Not so, good Thomasine, not so.
THO. This fellow must be whipt.
QUO. Thank you, good wife.
EASY. I can no longer bear him.
THO. Nay, sweet husband.
QUO. Husband? I’m undone, beggared, cozened, confounded
for ever! married already? [_Aside._]—Will it please you
know me now, mistress Harlot and master Horner? who am I
now? [_Discovers himself._
THO. O, he’s as like my t’other husband as can be!
QUO. I’ll have judgment; I’ll bring you before a judge:
you shall feel, wife, whether my flesh be dead or no;
I’ll tickle you, i’faith, i’faith. [_Exit._
THO. The judge that he’ll solicit knows me well.
EASY. Let’s on then, and our grievances first tell.
[_Exeunt._
SCENE II.
_A Street._
_Enter_ REARAGE _and_ SUSAN.
REAR. Here they come.
SUS. O, where?
_Enter Officers[1146] with_ LETHE _and Country Wench
in custody_; SALEWOOD, HELLGILL, _and_ MOTHER
GRUEL.
LET. Heart of shame!
Upon my wedding morning so disgrac’d!
Have you so little conscience, officers,
You will not take a bribe?
COUN. W. Master Lethe, we may lie together lawfully
hereafter, for we are coupled together before people
enow, i’faith.
[_Exeunt Officers with_ LETHE _and Country Wench, &c._
REAR. There goes the strumpet!
SUS. Pardon my wilful blindness, and enjoy me;
For now the difference appears too plain
’Twixt[1147] a base slave and a true gentleman.
REAR. I do embrace thee in the best of love.—
How soon affections fail, how soon they prove!
[_Exeunt._
SCENE III.
_An Apartment in the Judge’s House._
_Enter Judge_, EASY _and_ THOMASINE _in talk with
him_: SHORTYARD _and_ FALSELIGHT _in the custody
of Officers_.
JUD. His cozenages are odious: he the plaintiff!
Not only fram’d deceitful in his life,
But so to mock his funeral!
EASY. Most just:
The Livery all assembled, mourning weeds
Throughout his house e’en down to his last servant,
The herald richly hir’d to lend him arms
Feign’d from his ancestors (which I dare swear knew
No other arms but those they labour’d with),
All preparations furnish’d, nothing wanted
Save that which was the cause of all, his death,—
If he be living!
JUD. ’Twas an impious part.
EASY. We are not certain yet it is himself,
But some false spirit that assumes his shape,
And seeks still to deceive me.
_Enter_ QUOMODO.
QUO. O, are you come?—
My lord, they’re here.—Good morrow, Thomasine.
JUD. Now, what are you?
QUO. I’m[1148] Quomodo, my lord, and this my wife;
Those my two men, that are bound wrongfully.
JUD. How are we sure you’re he?
QUO. O, you cannot miss, my lord!
JUD. I’ll try you:
Are you the man that liv’d the famous cozener?
QUO. O no, my lord!
JUD. Did you deceive this gentleman of his right,
And laid nets o’er his land?
QUO. Not I, my lord.
JUD. Then you’re not Quomodo, but a counterfeit.—
Lay hands on him, and bear him to the whip.
QUO. Stay, stay a little,
I pray.—Now I remember me, my lord,
I cozen’d him indeed; ’tis wondrous true.
JUD. Then I dare swear this is no counterfeit:
Let all doubts cease; this man is Quomodo.
QUO. Why, la, you now, you would not believe this?
I am found what I am.
JUD. But setting these thy odious shifts apart,
Why did that thought profane enter thy breast,
To mock the world with thy supposed death?
QUO. Conceive you not that, my lord? a policy.
JUD. So.
QUO. For having gotten the lands, I thirsted still
To know what fate would follow ’em——
JUD. Being ill got.
QUO. Your lordship apprehends me.
JUD. I think I shall anon.
QUO. And thereupon,
I, out of policy, possess’d my son,
Which since I have found lewd;[1149] and now intend
To disinherit him for ever.
Not only this was in my death set down,
But thereby a firm trial of my wife,
Her constant sorrows, her rememb’ring virtues;
All which are clews; the shine of a next morning
Dries ’em up all, I see’t.
JUD. Did you profess wise cozenage, and would dare
To put a woman to her two days’ choice,
When oft a minute does it?
QUO. Less, a moment,
The twinkling of an eye, a glimpse, scarce something
does it.[1150]
Your lordship yet will grant she is my wife?
THO. O heaven!
JUD. After some penance and the dues of law,
I must acknowledge that.
QUO. I scarce like
Those dues of law.
EASY. My lord,
Although the law too gently ’lot his wife,
The wealth he left behind he cannot challenge.
QUO. How?
EASY. Behold his hand against it.
[_Shewing writings._
QUO. He does devise all means to make me mad,
That I may no more lie with my wife
In perfect memory; I know’t: but yet
The lands will maintain me in my wits;
The land[s] will do so much for me.
JUD. [_reads_] _In witness whereof I have set to mine
own hand_, EPHESTIAN QUOMODO.
’Tis firm enough your own, sir.
QUO. A jest, my lord; I did I knew not what.
JUD. It should seem so: deceit is her own foe;
Craftily gets, and childishly lets go.
But yet the lands are his.
QUO. I warrant ye.
EASY. No, my good lord, the lands know the right heir;
I am their master once more.
QUO. Have you the lands?
EASY. Yes, truly, I praise heaven.
QUO. Is this good dealing?
Are there such consciences abroad? How,
Which way could he come by ’em?
SHO. My lord,
I’ll quickly resolve[1151] you that it comes to me.
This cozener, whom too long I call’d my patron,
To my thought dying, and the fool his son
Possess’d of all, which my brain partly sweat for,
I held it my best virtue, by a plot
To get from him what for him was ill got——
QUO. O beastly Shortyard!
SHO. When, no sooner mine,
But I was glad more quickly to resign.
JUD. Craft once discover’d shews her abject line.
QUO. He hits me every where; for craft once known
Does teach fools wit, leaves the deceiver none.
My deeds have cleft me, cleft me! [_Aside._
_Enter Officers with_ LETHE _and the Country Wench_;
REARAGE, SUSAN, SALEWOOD, HELLGILL, _and_ MOTHER
GRUEL.
FIRST OFF. Room there.
QUO. A little yet to raise my spirit,
Here master Lethe comes to wed my daughter:
That’s all the joy is left me.—Hah! who’s this?
JUD. What crimes have those brought forth?
SALE.[1152] The shame of lust:
Most viciously on this his wedding morning
This man was seiz’d in shame with that bold strumpet.
JUD. Why, ’tis she he means to marry.
LET. No, in truth.
JUD. In truth you do:
Who for his wife his harlot doth prefer,
Good reason ’tis that he should marry her.
COUN. W. I crave it on my knees; such was his vow at
first.
HELL. I’ll say so too, and work out mine own safety.—
[_Aside._
Such was his vow at first indeed, my lord,
Howe’er his mood has chang’d him.
LET. O vild[1153] slave!
COUN. W. He says it true, my lord.
JUD. Rest content,
He shall both marry and taste punishment.
LET. O, intolerable! I beseech your good lordship, if I
must have an outward punishment, let me not marry an
inward, whose lashes[1154] will ne’er out, but grow
worse and worse. I have a wife stays for me this morning
with seven hundred pound in her purse: let me be
speedily whipt and be gone, I beseech your lordship.
SALE.[1155] He speaks no truth, my lord: behold the
virgin,
Wife to a well-esteemed gentleman,
Loathing the sin he follows.
LET. I was betray’d; yes, faith.
REAR. His own mother,[1156] my lord,
Which he confess’d through ignorance and disdain,
His name so chang’d to abuse the world and her.
LET. Marry a harlot, why not? ’tis an honest man’s
fortune. I pray, did not one of my countrymen marry my
sister? why, well then, if none should be married but
those that are honest, where should a man seek a wife
after Christmas? I pity that gentleman that has nine
daughters to bestow, and seven of ’em seeded already;
they will be good stuff by that time.
I do beseech your lordship to remove
The punishment; I am content to marry her.
JUD. There’s no removing of your punishment—
LET. O, good my lord!
JUD. Unless one here assembled,
Whom you have most unnaturally abus’d,
Beget your pardon.
LET. Who should that be?
Or who would do’t that has been so abus’d?
A troublesome penance!—Sir——
QUO. Knave in your face! leave your mocking,
Andrew; marry your quean, and be quiet.
LET. Master Easy——
EASY. I’m sorry you take such a bad course, sir.
LET. Mistress[1157] Quomodo——
THO. Inquire my right name again[1158] next time; now go
your ways like an ass as you came.
LET. Mass, I forget my mother all this while; I’ll make
her do’t at first.—Pray, mother, your blessing for once.
MOTH. G. Call’st me mother? out, I defy[1159] thee,
slave!
LET. Call me slave as much as you will, but do not shame
me now: let the world know you are my mother.
MOTH. G. Let me not have this villain put upon me, I
beseech your lordship.
JUD. He’s justly curs’d: she loathes to know him now,
Whom he before did as much loathe to know.—
Wilt thou believe me, woman?
MOTH. G. That’s soon done.
JUD. Then know him for a villain; ’tis thy son.
MOTH. G. Art thou Andrew, my wicked son Andrew?
LET. You would not believe me, mother.
MOTH. G. How art thou changed! Is this suit fit for
thee, a tooth-drawer’s son? This country has e’en
spoiled thee since thou earnest hither: thy manners
[were] better than thy clothes, but now whole clothes
and ragged manners: it may well be said that truth goes
naked; for when thou hadst scarce a shirt, thou hadst
more truth about thee.
JUD. Thou art thine own affliction, Quomodo.
Shortyard, we banish thee; it is our pleasure.[1160]
SHO. Henceforth no woman shall complain for measure.
JUD. And that all error from our works may stand,
We banish Falselight evermore the land.
[_Exeunt omnes._
END OF VOL. I.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY LEVEY, ROBSON, AND FRANKLYN,
46 St. Martin’s Lane.
Footnotes
-----
# 1:
Or _Midleton_.
# 2:
In _Harl. MS._ 1116, fol. 115, is a note of this grant to William
Middleton; but it supplies no information about his place of
residence. The Middletons of Middleton Hall bore “Argent, a saltier
ingrailed Sable:” he does not appear, however, to have belonged to
that family; see Nicolson and Burns’s _Hist. of West. and Cumb._, vol.
i. p. 255.
I may add, that from the dedication of _The Triumphs of Truth_ to Sir
Thomas Middleton, Lord Mayor of London in 1613, we learn that our
dramatist was not related to him: “next, in that myself, though
unworthy, being of _one name_ with your lordship ... as if one fate
did prosperously cleave to _one name_,” &c., vol. v. p. 217. The
family of Sir Thomas Middleton was of Denbigh: he was brother to Sir
Hugh Middleton.
# 3:
_Dethicks Guifts_, _Vincent_ 162, fol. 215, Coll. Arms.
# 4:
Of the various persons named William Middleton whose wills are extant,
I cannot identify one with the father of the poet.
# 5:
“WILLIMUS = ANNA filia EDWARDUS = BARBARA fil.
MIDLETON | Will. Snow MORBECK | Will. Palmer
de London | de London | de co. Warr.
| +---+
| |
+---+---------------------------------------------+
| | |
THOMAS MIDLETON = MARIA fil. et co-hær. Avicia uxor Johis
de Newington in com. | Edv. Morbeck Empson de London
Surrey chronographus | de London unus 6. renupta Alano
ciuitatis London 1623. | Clericorum Cancellariæ. Waterer de
| London
EDWARDUS MIDLETON
fil. et hæres ætatis 19
annoque 1623.”
C 2. _Vis. Surrey_, 1623, p. 328, Coll. Arms.—This pedigree
(translated) is also in _Harl. MS._ 1046, fol. 209.
# 6:
“Amy” in _Harl. MS._
# 7:
Mr. Campbell observes, that some verses, which will be afterwards
cited, “allude to the poet’s white locks, so that he was probably born
as early as the middle of the 16th century.”—_Spec. of the Brit.
Poets_, vol. iii. p. 118. The verses in question I believe to be a
forgery of Chetwood.
# 8:
“Mary” in _Harl. MS._
# 9:
“Marbecke” in _Harl. MS._,—rightly perhaps. I can find no mention of
him elsewhere.
# 10:
_Harl. MS._ 1912, fol. 52.—No record of their admission is preserved
in Gray’s Inn.
# 11:
In the Library of the Edinburgh University is a unique copy of
_Epigrams and Satires: Made by Richard Middleton of Yorke Gentleman,
London_, 1608. 4to. The Epistle Dedicatory is addressed “To the
Gentleman of condigne desert William Bellasses.” The Epigrams end on
p. 19; the Satires, entitled _Times Metamorphoses_, occupy the
remainder of the work, which extends in all to 39 pages. The author is
a wretched scribbler, and sometimes uses the grossest language.
# 12:
_The Silkewormes, and their Flies: Liuely described in verse, by T.
M._, &c. _London_, 1599. 4to, is certainly not by Middleton: according
to some authorities, the writer’s name was Moffat.
In _England’s Parnassus, or The Choysest Flowers of our Moderne
Poets_, &c. 1600, 8vo, the following quotations are found:
“These two parts belong
Vnto true knowledge, words and teares haue force
To mooue compassion in the sauage mindes
Of brutish people reason-wanting kindes.
_Tho. Middleton._” (p. 281, under “Teares.”)
“There neuer shall bee any age so cleere,
But in her smoothe face shall some faults appeare.
_Th. Middl._” (p. 321, under “World.”)
But the compiler has given them to our author by mistake: both are
taken from _The Legend of Humphrey Duke of Glocester_, written by
CHRISTOPHER Middleton; see the reprint of that poem in the tenth vol.
of _The Harleian Miscellany_, p. 170 and p. 182. ed. Park.
_Corona Minervæ. Or a Masque Presented before Prince Charles his
Highnesse, The Duke of Yorke his Brother, and the Lady Mary his
Sister, the 27th of February, at the Colledge of the Mvseum Minervæ._
_London_, 1635. 4to, has been ascribed to Middleton by those who were
not aware that he was dead at that period.
Lowndes (_Bibliog. Manual_) attributes to Middleton _The pleasant
comodie of Patient Grissell_, 1607, and a short tract called _Sir
Robert Sherley sent Ambassadour, in the name of the King of Persia, to
Sigismond the Third_, &c. &c. 1609. 4to. The former piece was written
by Dekker, Chettle, and Haughton (see Malone’s _Shakespeare_, by
Boswell, vol. iii. p. 323); the latter (which is reprinted in _The
Harleian Miscellany_, vol. v.) has no author’s name, and, as far as I
can discover, contains nothing to indicate that it is by Middleton.
# 13:
In act iii. scene 1. (vol. i. p. 48), the Clerk having read from the
church-book “_Agatha, the daughter of Pollux—born in an. 1540_,” adds,
“and NOW ’TIS 99.” Similar notices have served to ascertain the
periods at which several other old dramas were first brought upon the
stage; but they are not always to be relied on as evidence to that
effect. In our author’s _No Wit, No Help like a Woman’s_, act iii.
scene 1. (vol. v. p. 87), Weatherwise says, “If I, that have proceeded
in five-and-twenty such books of astronomy, should not be able to put
down a scholar _now in one thousand six hundred thirty and eight_, the
dominical letter being G, I stood for a goose.” That Middleton wrote
this play there cannot, I think, be any doubt; but as he had been dead
about ten years before 1638, that date must have been inserted by the
actors when the piece was revived.
# 14:
Malone’s _Shakespeare_ (by Boswell), vol. iii. p. 327.
# 15:
_Id. ibid._ There can be no question that this is the piece which,
according to Mr. Collier, in a part of Henslowe’s Diary not cited by
Malone, is called _The Chester Tragedy_. _Hist. of Engl. Dram.
Poetry_, vol. iii. p. 102. When Malone (_ubi supra_) observed, that
_Randall Earl of Chester_ “was probably _The Mayor of Queenborough_,”
he must have utterly forgotten the subject of the latter play.
Weber erroneously states that Middleton “wrote in combination with
Ford.” Introd. to _Works of Beaumont and Fletcher_, p. xliv.
# 16:
_Lansdown MS. 807._—This play was entered on the Stationers’ Books
Sept. 9, 1653.
# 17:
In vol. v. p. 527 and p. 562, I followed Mr. Collier’s statement
(_Bridgewater House Catalogue_, p. 200), that Nash died during 1604,
because in _The Black Book_ he is described as alive, and in _Father
Hubburd’s Tales_ he is spoken of as dead, both these pieces having
been published in 1604. But Nash must have died earlier; for, in _The
Returne from Pernassus_, 1606, which internal evidence proves to have
been written before the decease of Elizabeth, he is mentioned as being
“in his mournefull chest,” sig. B 3; and the _Black Book_, though
perhaps not printed, must have been composed, anterior to 1604.
Whatever may have been the date of Nash’s death, Malone (see note vol.
v. p. 561) was assuredly mistaken in interpreting the expression
“humorous theft,” to mean that Rowlands had stolen _The letting of
humours blood in the head vaine_, &c. from Nash: that piece is much
too weak and spiritless to have been the production of the former.
# 18:
Continuation of Stow’s _Annales_, p. 928, ed. 1615.
# 19:
He had previously (in 1603) written a copy of verses for Dekker’s
_Entertainment to King James_, &c.: see vol. v. p. 203.
# 20:
This pageant is placed as an Appendix to vol. v.
# 21:
Heath’s _Account of the Worshipful Company of Grocers_, p. 331.
London, 1829 (privately printed). In the same document are these
entries:
“Benevolences and Rewards to Officers and others which took paines
about the sayde busynesse, with other particuler charges as followeth,
£. _s._ _d._
Payde and given in benevolence to Anthony Monday,
gentⁿ, for his paynes in drawing a project for this
busynesse which was offered to the Comyttee 5 0 0
Payde and given to Mr. Deckar for the like 4 0 0”
p. 335.
# 22:
“There are two MSS. of this Author’s [Middleton’s] in being which have
never been taken notice of in any Accoᵗ. of him. They were sold in an
Auction of Books at the Apollo Coffee House in Fleet Street abᵗ the
year 1735 by Edw Lewis but puffd up to a great price, bought back, &
coud not afterwᵈˢ be recoverd. They are entitled I. _Annales_: or a
Continuation of Chronologie; conteyninge Passages and Occurrences
proper to the Honnoᵇˡᵉ Citty of London: Beginninge in the Yeare of our
Lorde 1620. By Thomas Midleton then received by their Honnoᵇˡᵉ Senate
as Chronologer for the Cittye. There are in it, these Articles under
the year 1621.—On Good Fryday in the Morn died John (King) Lord Bp. of
London.—28 May Fra. Lᵈ Verulam committed to the Tower. (Seal taken
from him the last day of April).—27 Decʳ. Sʳ Edwᵈd Coke Committed to
the Tower.—Decʳ. The Fortune Play House, situate between White Cross
Street and Golding Lane, burnt, &c. II. _Middleton’s Farrago_: In
which there is—The Earl of Essex his Charge agᵗ Viscᵗ. Wimbleton, &
the Viscᵗˢ. Answʳ.—The Treaty and Articles of Marriage between Pr.
Cha: & Hen: Maria.—Parliamentary Matters, 1625-26.—Habeas Corpus 1627
&c.” _MS. note by Oldys_ on Langbaine’s _Account of Engl. Dram.
Poets_, p. 370. (British Museum.)
# 23:
_Hist. of Engl. Dram. Poetry_, vol. i. p. 453.
# 24:
_Apology for the Believers in the Shakspeare-Papers_, p. 497, sqq.
# 25:
The original is in the State Paper Office: for the transcript I am
indebted to Mr. J. P. Collier.
# 26:
Chalmers’s _Apology for the Believers_, &c. p. 500.
# 27:
Capell’s _Notes on Shakespeare_, vol. iii. p. 31. (_School of Sh._)
# 28:
“According to this statement,” says Malone, “they received above
166_l._ 12_s._ on each performance. The foregoing extracts [from Sir
Henry Herbert’s Office-book] show, that there is not even a semblance
of truth in this story. In the year 1685, when the London theatres
were much enlarged, and the prices of admission greatly increased,
Shadwell received by his third day on the representation of The Squire
of Alsatia, only 130_l._, which Downes the prompter says was the
greatest receipt had been ever taken at Drury-lane playhouse at single
prices. _Roscius Anglicanus_, p. 41. The use of Arabick figures has
often occasioned very gross errors to pass current in the world. I
suppose the utmost receipt from the performance of Middleton’s play
for nine days (if it was performed so often), could not amount to more
than one hundred and fifty pounds. To the sum of 150_l._ which perhaps
this old actor had seen as the profit made by this play, his fancy or
his negligence added a cipher, and thus made fifteen hundred pounds.
The play of Holland’s Leaguer [by Marmyon] was acted six days
successively at Salisbury Court, in December 1631, and yet Sir Henry
Herbert received on account of the six representations but _one pound
nineteen shillings_, in virtue of the _ninth_ share which he possessed
as one of the proprietors of that house. Supposing there were twenty-
one shares divided among the actors, the piece, though performed with
such extraordinary success, did not produce more than _six pounds ten
shillings_ each night, exclusive of the occasional nightly charges
already mentioned.” Malone’s _Shakespeare_ (by Boswell), vol. iii. p.
177.
# 29:
_Hist. of Engl. Dram. Poetry_, vol. i. p. 451.
# 30:
_Letters_, p. 123, ed. 1678. The letter is dated “Aug. 15, 1623;” and
the last Editor of Dodsley’s _Old Plays_, after citing the passage,
says, “This remark was made in the August of the year preceding the
calling of Middleton before the Privy Council, and must therefore
allude to some other play than the _Game of [at] Chess_,” vol. v. p.
279. Let us hear Oldys: “The first edition [of Howel’s _Letters_] in
Q^o 1645 is in Six Parts or Sections; but no dates to any of the
Letters: _Hence so many Errors when he did date them_.” _MS. note on_
Langbaine’s _Account of Engl. Dram. Poets_, p. 279. (British Museum.)
# 31:
Act iii. scene 1,—_Works_, by Gifford, vol. v. p. 247.
# 32:
P. xii.
# 33:
Written, we are told, by Sir William Lower, on Middleton’s _Michaelmas
Term_. They are given by Chetwood in “An Account of the Author,”
prefixed to a reprint of _Blurt Master Constable_, which forms part of
a small volume entitled _A Select Collection of Old Plays_, Dublin,
1750. Middleton, as Chetwood previously informs us, “lived to a very
great age.... We may judge of his longævity by his works; since his
first play was acted in 1601, and his last in 1665[!].... That he was
much esteem’d by his brother poets, we may judge by four lines of sir
William Lower upon his comedy call’d _A Michaelmas Term_, 1663”! Now,
_Michaelmas Term_ was certainly not produced in Middleton’s “halting
age,” having been licensed the 15th May, 1607, and printed during the
same year; see vol. i. p. 413; there is no edition of it bearing date
1663; and, moreover, _Sir William Lower died in_ 1662. The lines are
cited indeed by Oldys, in a MS. note on Langbaine’s _Account of Engl.
Dram. Poets_, p. 373 (British Museum); but he doubtless copied them
from Chetwood’s volume, of which he has transcribed the title, p. 371.
# 34:
See p. xiii.
# 35:
The following extracts from the same Records shew the various persons
who succeeded Middleton in the office of City Chronologer till it was
finally abolished.
“Martis Secundo die Septembris 1628
Annoque RRs Caroli Angliæ &c quarto.
Hamersly Mayor. Item: this daie Beniamyn Johnson[35A] Gent
Rep. No. 42. f. 271. is by this Court admitted to be the Citties,
Chronologer in place of Mr. Thomas Middleton
deceased, to have hold exercise and enioye
the same place and to have and receive for
that his service out of the Chamber of London
the some of one hundred Nobles per Annum to
contynue duringe the pleasure of this Court
and the First quarters payment to begin att
Michaelmas next.”
“Jovis decimo die Novembris 1631
Annoque Regni Regis Caroli Angliæ &c
septimo.
Whitmore Mayor. Item: it is ordered by this Court that Mr.
Rep. N. 46. f. 8. Chamberlen shall forbeare to pay any more fee
or wages unto Beniamine Johnson the Citties
Chronologer until he shall haue presented
unto this Court some fruits of his labours in
that his place.”
“Martis xxvijͦ die Augusti 1633
Annoque RRs Caroli Angliæ &c nono.
Raynton Mayor. Item: this day upon the humble peticion of
Rep. N. 47. f. 336. Edward Hewes sometimes the Citties
Chronologer this Court in consideration of
his bye and good services formerly performed
in his said place doth order that Mr
Chamberlen shall pay unto him as of the guift
of this Court the summe of xx^{ls}.”
“Jovis xviijͦ die Septembris 1634
Annoque RRs Caroli Angliæ &c decimo.
Mowlson Mayor. Item: this day Mr Recorder and Sir James
Rep. N. 48. f. 433. Hamersley Knight and Alderman declared unto
this Court His Majesty’s pleasure signified
unto them by the right honoᵇˡᵉ the Earle of
Dorsett for and in the behalfe of Beniamine
Johnson the Cittyes Chronologer, Whereupon it
is ordered by this Court that his yearely
pencion of one hundred nobles out of the
Chamber of London shalbe continued and that
Mr Chamberlen shall satisfie and pay unto him
his arrerages thereof.”
“Martis quarto die Februarii 1639
Annoque RRs Caroli Angliæ &c xvᵗᵒ.
Garway Mayor. Item: this day att the request of the right
Rep. N. 54. f. 86.^b hoᵇˡᵉ the Earle of Dorsett signified unto
this Court by his letter this Court is
pleased to retaine and admitt Francis Quarles
Gent to bee the Citties Chronologer to have
hold and enioy the same place with a fee of
one hundred Nobles per annum, for and during
the pleasure of this Court and this payment
to begin from Christmas last.”
“Martis primo die Octobri 1644
Annoque RRs Caroli Angliæ &c vicesimo.
Wollaston Mayor. Item: this day Gualter Frost Esquire
Rep. N. 57. f. 219.^b Swordbearer of this Citty is by this Court
admitted the Citties Chronologer to have hold
exercise and enioy the same place with the
fee thereunto appointed soe long as hee shall
well demeane himselfe therein and present
once a yeare yearely something of his labours
in this behalfe.”
“Jovis xxviijͦ die Februarii 1660
Annoque Caroli Secundi Angliæ &c xiiiͦ.
Browne Mayor. This day John Burroughs Esq^{re}. is by
Rep. N. 67. f. 208. this Court admitted the Citties Chronologer
(the same place being now void and having soe
beene for severall yeares past) To have hold
exercise and enjoy the same place and to have
and receive for his service to bee performed
therein out of the Chamber of London the
summe of one hundred Nobles per annum to
continue during the pleasure of this Court,
And the first quarters payment to bee made at
Lady day next.”
“Commune Consil. tent. in Camera
Guihaldi Civitatis London die Lune
vicesimo tertio die Novembris Anno
Domini 1668 Annoque RRs Caroli Secundi
vicesimo.
Turner Mayor. At this Court the Committee appointed to
Jour. No. 46. f. 251. consider the State of the Chamber did deliver
their report in writeing under their hands of
their proceedings hitherto in that affair the
Tenor whereof followeth viz.
To the Right honorable the Lord Major
and to the Right worshipfull the
Aldermen and Commons of the Citty of
London in Common Council assembled.
It is humbly represented by the Committee
appointed by order of this Honorable Court of
the xii^{th} of February last to consider the
State of the Chamber &c. inter alia,
That the yearly payment of one hundred
Nobles to one —— Bradshaw called the Citties
Chronologer be discontinued with the place
there appearing no occasion for such an
Officer.”
“Comune Consil. tent in Camera
Guihaldi Civitatis London die Jovis
vicesimo quarto die Februarii Anno
Domini 1669 Annoque Regni Regis Caroli
Secundi &c xxiiͦ.
Starling Mayor. Upon the peticion of Cornewall Bradshaw
Jour. N. 47. f. 26.^b Gent late the Citties Chronologer for some
recompence for his Sallary of thirty three
pounds six shillings and eightpence payable
out of the Chamber of London which hath been
taken from him by vote of the Court—It is
ordered that upon resigning of his said place
to the Court of Aldermen Mʳ Chamberlen shall
pay him one hundred pounds in full of all
Claimes for his said place.”
“Jovis xviiͦ die Martii 1669 Annoque
R.R’s Caroli Secundi Angliæ &c xxiiͦ.
Starling Mayor. This day Cornewall Bradshawe who in the
Rep. N. 75. f. 136^b. time of the Mayoralty of Sir Thomas Bludworth
Knight and Alderman was admitted the Citties
Chronologer during the pleasure of this Court
here present did freely surrender upp unto
this Court the said place and all his right
and interest therein, of which surrender this
Court did accept and allowe.”
Ibid. f. 139. “This day at the humble desire of ——
Bradshaw late Chronologer of this Citty this
Court doth grant unto him the nominacion and
benefitt of making one person free of this
Citty by redempcion paying to Mr. Chamberlen
the summe of five pounds.”
# 35A:
Gifford (_Memoirs of Ben Jonson_, p. clxii.) mentions that “the city,
from whom he [Jonson] had been accustomed to receive an annual sum by
way of securing his services when occasion called for them, seem to
have watched the moment of declining favour, and withdrawn their
bounty;” but does not appear to have known either that Jonson had been
officially appointed Chronologer, or that his pension (see the fourth
entry) was afterwards restored.
# 36:
P. xiii.
# 37:
_Life of Shakespeare_ (1821), p. 225. Drayton made great alterations
in new editions of his poems: the “commendation” of Middleton may
perhaps be found in the first impression of one of his numerous
pieces, which I have not seen. The _Life of Drayton_, by Robert Bell,
Esq., in a recently published volume of Lardner’s _Cyclopædia_, is a
tissue of the most absurd mistakes.
# 38:
P. 811.
# 39:
_Extracts from the Hawthornden Manuscripts_, &c., by Mr. D. Laing, p.
86—a very interesting series of papers, which originally appeared in
the _Archæologia Scotica_, vol. iv. Parts i. and ii.
In an address “To the Readers” prefixed to the 4to of _Sejanus_, 1605,
Ben Jonson says, “Lastly, I would inform you, that this book, in all
numbers, is not the same with that which was acted on the public
stage; wherein a second pen had good share: in place of which, I have
rather chosen to put weaker, and, no doubt, less pleasing, of mine
own, than to defraud so happy a genius of his right by my loathed
usurpation.” On this passage Gifford remarks, “Why might not Chapman
or Middleton be intended here? they, like Shakspeare [who, according
to the commentators, was the person alluded to], were living in habits
of kindness with the poet: they wrote in conjunction with him; they
were both men of learning; and no great violation seems offered to
language (at least no greater than courtesy would excuse) in terming
them _happy geniuses_.” Gifford, however, concludes that Fletcher was
the person actually meant. See B. Jonson’s _Works_, vol. iii. pp. 6,
7, 8.
# 40:
P. 72—_Workes_, 1630.
# 41:
P. 206.
# 42:
P. 12. reprint, 1817. There are several editions of _Wit’s
Recreations_. Octavius Gilchrist (note on Dodsley’s _Old Plays_, vol.
v. p. 281, last ed.) cites these lines from ed. 1641; but they are not
to be found in a copy of that impression which is now before me.
# 43:
This collection included _The First Part of the Honest Whore_—not then
known to be partly written by Middleton (vol. iii.), _A Mad World, my
Masters_ (vol. v.), _The Widow_ (vol. vi.), _The Mayor of
Queenborough_ (vol. xi.). In an unpublished letter from Bishop
Warburton to Dodsley is the following passage: “But why would you give
us such stuff as _Fuimus Troes_, _Grim the Collier_, and
_Microcosmus_, rather than three other good comedies (if there be so
many) of Middleton’s?” _Blurt Master Constable_ was reprinted in a
volume edited by Chetwood, and entitled _A Select Collection of Old
Plays_, Dublin, 1750. In the second edition of Dodsley’s _Old Plays_,
1780, Reed inserted _The Second Part of the Honest Whore_ (vol. iii.)
and _The Roaring Girl_ (vol. vi.).
# 44:
Pearson had purchased it from the collection of Griffin the player: it
is now among the books and MSS. which were bequeathed by Malone to the
Bodleian Library.
# 45:
See notes, vol. iii. p. 303 and p. 328. It is entitled _Macbeth, A
Tragædy. With all the Alterations, Amendments, Additions, and New
Songs. As it’s now Acted at the Dukes Theatre_, 1674. 4to. Of this
wretched piece (which probably few readers have seen) I subjoin a
specimen.
“_An Heath._
_Enter Lady Macduff, Maid, and Servant._
_La. Macd._ Art sure this is the place my Lord appointed
Us to meet him?
_Serv._ This is the entrance o’ th’ Heath; and here
He order’d me _to attend him with the Chariot_.”
Presently the Witches are heard singing a great deal of nonsense: part
of it runs thus,—
“Ill deeds are seldom slow;
Nor single: following crimes on former wait,
_The worst of creatures fastest propagate_.
Many more murders must this one ensue,
_As if in death were propagation too_.” &c. &c.
“_Macd._ I am glad you are not affraid.
_La. Macd._ I would not willingly to fear submit:
None can fear ill, but those that merit it.
_Macd._ Am I made bold by her? how strong a guard
Is innocence! if any one would be
Reputed valiant, let him learn of you;
Vertue both courage is and safety too.
[_A dance of witches._
_Enter two_ [_three_] _Witches_.
_Macd._ These seem foul spirits; I’ll speak to ’em.
If you can any thing by more than nature know,
You may in those prodigious times fore-tell
Some ill we may avoid.
_1 Witch._ Saving thy blond will cause it to be shed.
_2 Witch._ He’ll bleed by thee, by whom thou first hast bled.
_3 Witch._ Thy wife shall shunning danger, dangers find,
And fatal be to whom she most is kind.
[_Ex. witches._”
Act ii. last scene.
# 46:
Perhaps 1610 was its earliest season: see Collier’s _New Particulars
regarding the Works of Shakespeare_, p. 24.
# 47:
See _Life of Shakespeare_ (1821), p. 420 sqq.
# 48:
“The former [Middleton] was a man of considerable powers, who has
lately been the object of much discussion, on account of the liberal
use which Shakspeare is ascertained to have made of his recently
discovered tragi-comedy, _The Witch_.” Introd. to Massinger’s _Works_,
vol. i. p. liv. ed. 1813.
“Yet the spleen of Davies is more tolerable than the tedious absurdity
of the other commentators, who labour to justify our great poet’s
pronunciation of this word [Hecate] from a mass of contemporary
authorities, as if it was not a matter of the utmost indifference, and
determined, in every case, by the measure of the verse. Shakspeare
gave the word as he found it in Middleton, without caring whether it
were a dissyllable or a trisyllable,” &c. Note on B. Jonson’s _Works_,
vol. vi. p. 282.
“The production of this Masque [_The Masque of Queens_] has subjected
Jonson to a world of unmerited obloquy from the commentators. It was
written, it seems, ‘on account of the success of Shakspeare’s Witches,
which alarmed the jealousy of a man, who fancied himself his rival, or
rather his superior.’ And this is repeated through a thousand mouths.
Not to observe, that if Jonson was moved by any such passion, it must
be by Middleton’s Witches, not Shakspeare’s (for the latter is but a
copyist himself, in this case),” &c. Note on B. Jonson’s _Works_, vol.
vii. p. 115. I ought to mention, that when Gifford threw out these
remarks, Malone had not declared his ultimate opinion on the subject.
# 49:
Middleton, as I have shewn in my notes on _The Witch_, had carefully
consulted the celebrated work of Reginald Scot.
# 50:
See the excellent remarks of Lamb, cited in vol. iii. p. 329.
# 51:
_Retrospective Review_, vol. viii. p. 135.
# 52:
_Lectures on Dram. Literature_, p. 79.
# 53:
Campbell’s _Specimens of the Brit. Poets_, vol. iii. p. 118.
# 54:
Of _The Roaring Girl_ I believe that Middleton wrote by far the
greater portion; but of the two other plays which he produced in
conjunction with Dekker—_The First and Second Parts of the Honest
Whore_—I have no doubt that his share is comparatively small.
# 55:
See _Your Five Gallants_ and _The Family of Love_.
# 56:
_Retrospective Review_, vol. viii. p. 126.
# 57:
_senatus_] Old ed. “senatum.”
# 58:
_He is_] Old ed. “Hees.”
# 59:
_there is_] Old ed. “ther’s.”
# 60:
_Wants some_ two _of threescore_.] “Sim.’s impatience
of his mother’s death leads him into an error here: it
appears, p. 17, that she wanted _five_ of that
number.”—GIFFORD.
# 61:
_have_] Old ed. “hath.”
# 62:
_Dic quibus_, &c.] Virgil, _Ecl._ iii. 104.
# 63:
_nomothetæ_] Old ed. “nomotheta.”
# 64:
_chreokopia_] Old ed. “Crecopedi.”—“Χρεωκοπια
signifies the cutting off that part of the debt which
arose from the interest of the sum lent.”—M. MASON.
# 65:
_full allow’d_] i. e. fully approved.
# 66:
_seisactheia_] Old ed. “Sisaithie.”—“Σεισαχθεια, i. e.
a shaking off a burthen, metaphorically an abolition
of debt.”—GIFFORD.
# 67:
_old is_] Old ed. “old’s.”
# 68:
_He is_] Old ed. “Hees.”
# 69:
_passions_] “i. e. pathetic speeches.”—GIFFORD.
# 70:
_allow_] i. e. approve.
# 71:
_both do_] Old ed. “_both do_ both.”
# 72:
_which_] Old ed. “_which_ that.”
# 73:
CLEAN. _And so it does;
The church-book overthrows it, if you read it
well._] “Cleanthes and the lawyer are at cross
purposes. The latter observes, that the church-book
(by which he means the register of births kept there)
overthrows all demur; to which the former replies,
that it really does so, taking the holy Scriptures for
the church-book.
“To observe upon the utter confusion of all time and
place, of all customs and manners, in this drama,
would be superfluous; they must be obvious to the most
careless observer.”—GIFFORD.
# 74:
_woman_] Old ed. “women.”
# 75:
_law_] Old ed. “lawfull.”
# 76:
_likelihood_] Old ed. “livelihood.”
# 77:
_whose_] Old ed. “which.”
# 78:
_as they may be supposed tedious_] Old ed. “_as_ it
_may be supposed_ is _tedious_.”
# 79:
_for the women_] Old ed. “_for_ the which are _the
women_.”
# 80:
_past_] Old ed. “to be _past_.”
# 81:
_they_] Old ed. “to.”
# 82:
_and not for a full month_, &c.] “The reader will see
the necessity and the motive of this provision in the
act towards the conclusion of the play.”—GIFFORD.
# 83:
“Had acts of parliament, in Massinger’s days, been
somewhat like what they are in ours, we might not
unreasonably have supposed that this was wickedly
meant as a ridicule on them; for a more prolix,
tautological, confused piece of formality, human wit,
or rather human dulness, could not easily have
produced. As it stands in the old copy and in Coxeter,
it is absolutely incomprehensible.”—_Id._
# 84:
_do it_] Old ed. “doot.”
# 85:
_woman_] Old ed. “women.”
# 86:
_’tis_] Old ed. “his.”
# 87:
_now_] Old ed. “nor.”
# 88:
———— _if this hold, white heads will be cheap, And
many watchmen’s places will be vacant_;] “The authors
could not forbear, even at this serious moment, to
indulge a smile at the venerable guardians of the
night, who in their time, as well as in ours, seem to
have been very ancient and quiet.”—GIFFORD.
# 89:
_sorrow is_] Old ed. “sorrowes.”
# 90:
_horse_] Old ed. “horseback.”
# 91:
_where is_] Old ed. “wheres.”
# 92:
_In’s secure quiet_, &c.] So Gifford. The old ed. has,
“_In_ his secured _quiet by a villaines hand_
Am _basely lost in_ my _starrs ignorance_.”
# 93:
_sir_] Old ed. “sit.”
# 94:
_weeping_] “This is given by the modern editors as a
marginal note; but the old copy makes it, and rightly,
a part of the text.”—GIFFORD.
# 95:
_to prevent her_] “i. e. to anticipate the period she
had allotted to life.”—_Id._
# 96:
_she will_] Old ed. “sheel.”
# 97:
_there’s_] Old ed. “there is.”
# 98:
_her_] Old ed. “it.”
# 99:
_her_] Old ed. “it.”
# 100:
_thrown_] Old ed. “threw.”
# 101:
_she will_] Old ed. “sheel.”
# 102:
_while_] i. e. until.
# 103:
_Forgetest still_] Old ed. “_Still_ forgets.”
# 104:
_with_] Old ed. “within.”
# 105:
_doubled now_] Old ed. “_now doubled_.”
# 106:
_Cleanthes, never better_] Old ed. “_Never better,
Cleanthes._”
# 107:
_strong_] Old ed. “stronger.”
# 108:
_she is ... of’t_] Old ed. “shees ... of it.”
# 109:
_allow_] i. e. approve.
# 110:
_’s_] Old ed. “is.”
# 111:
_Buried my name in Epire_, &c.] “This is obscure.
Perhaps Leonides means, that he had so conducted
himself in his native country (i. e. so raised his
reputation there), that his memory would always live
in the recollection of the people, unless he now
quitted them for a residence elsewhere. The conclusion
of this speech I do not understand.”—GIFFORD.]
# 112:
_on us_] Old ed. “ons.”
# 113:
_with’t_] Old ed. “with it.”
# 114:
_yet_] Old ed. “yes.”
# 115:
_there is_] Old ed. “theres.”
# 116:
_one_] Old ed. “all _one_.”
# 117:
_at night_] Old ed. “_at night_, my lord.”
# 118:
_and_] i. e. if.
# 119:
Old ed. “2.”
# 120:
_act_] Old ed. “_act_, my lord.”
# 121:
_on_] Old ed. “upon.”
# 122:
_where_] i. e. whereas.
# 123:
_Wood_] i. e. mad, raging: so M. Mason reads, for
“Would” of the old ed. Gifford gives “Worried,” to
perfect, as he says, the metre: but he forgot (what he
elsewhere notices) that “aches” was formerly a
dissyllable, and pronounced _aitches_.
# 124:
_pan’d hose_] i. e. breeches (generally made full and
bombasted) having _panes_ or openings in the cloth,
where other colours were inserted in silk, and drawn
through.
# 125:
_bravery_] “i. e. ostentatious finery of
apparel.”—GIFFORD.
# 126:
_Push_] This exclamation (which Gifford alters to
_Pish_) is several times used by Middleton, as well as
by other authors of his time: so Chapman;
“And lest some Momus here might now crie _push_,
Say our pageant is not worth a rush.”
_Gentleman Usher_, 1606, sig. C 4.
# 127:
_And keep a better table than that, I trow._] “This
wretched fellow is punning upon the word _table_,
which, as applied to his father, meant a large sheet
of paper, where precepts for the due regulation of
life were set down in distinct lines; and as applied
to himself—that he would keep a better house, i. e.
live more sumptuously, than his father.”—GIFFORD.
# 128:
_cheese-trenchers_] “Before the general introduction
of books, our ancestors were careful to dole out
instruction in many ways: hangings, pictures,
_trenchers_, knives, wearing apparel, every thing, in
a word, that was capable of containing a short
sentence, was turned to account.... Saltonstall
observes of one of his characters, that ‘for talke hee
commonly uses some proverbial verses, gathered perhaps
from _cheese-trenchers_.’ _Pictures_, by W. S.”—_Id._
See also my edition of Webster’s _Works_, III. 191,
and note there.
# 129:
_Forfeit before_] So Gifford: but I am not quite
satisfied with his reading. Old ed. “_Before_ surfet.”
# 130:
_You’ve_] Old ed. “You have.”
# 131:
_and_] i. e. if.
# 132:
_seven-and-fifty_] “See p. 6.”—GIFFORD.
# 133:
_Push_] See note, p. 29.
# 134:
_I’m_] Old ed. “_I_ am.”
# 135:
_Enter_, &c.] The stage-direction in the old ed. is,
“_Enter Cleanthes and Hipolita with a hears_.”
# 136:
_this_] Old ed. “in _this_.”
# 137:
_I’ve_] Old ed. “_I_ have.”
# 138:
_condition_] “i. e. on condition.”—GIFFORD.
# 139:
_the duke in sight_] Old ed. “_the_ dim _sight_.”—“The
variation in the text is from a conjecture of Mr. M.
Mason. I suppose the manuscript had only the initial
letter of duke, and the printer not knowing what to
make of _d. in_ sight, corrected it into _dim sight_.
These abbreviations are the source of innumerable
errors.”—_Id._
# 140:
_Him._] Old ed. “He.”
# 141:
_and_] i. e. if.
# 142:
_Bailiff._] Old ed. “Bayly.”
# 143:
_and_] i. e. if.
# 144:
_and_] i. e. if.
# 145:
_doctors a’ the name._ “He alludes to Dr. W. Butler, a
very celebrated physician of Elizabeth’s days. The
oddity of his manners, the singularity of his
practice, and the extraordinary cures which he
performed, raised many strange opinions of him. ‘He
never’ (says Dr. Wittie) ‘kept any apprentices for his
business, nor any maid but a fool, and yet his
reputation thirty-five years after his death was still
so great, that many empiricks got credit among the
vulgar by claiming relation to him, as having served
him, and learned much from him.’ He died at an
advanced age in 1618.”—GIFFORD.
# 146:
_should_] Old ed. “shall.”
# 147:
_I’ve_] Old ed. “I have.”
# 148:
_to let him live still_] Old. ed. “_still to let him
live_.”
# 149:
_have_] So Gifford. Old ed. “am,” which perhaps is
right.
# 150:
_perfum’d_] So Gifford. Old ed. “perform’d,” which may
be right, in the sense of drest to perfection.
# 151:
_we know ... you young_] Old ed. “you _know_ ... your
_young_.”
# 152:
_Simonides._] Old ed. “Mr. _Simonides_.”
# 153:
_We’ve_] Old ed. “we have.”
# 154:
_I am_] Old ed. “I’me.”
# 155:
_botcher_] Old ed. “brother.”
# 156:
_wheezing_] Old ed. “wheening.”
# 157:
_oft_] Old ed. “often.”
# 158:
_quited_] i. e. requited.
# 159:
_For_] Old ed. “After.”
# 160:
_aches_] See note, p. 28.
# 161:
_know_] Old ed. “knowes.”
# 162:
_I’ve_] Old ed. “I have.”
# 163:
_despatch’t_] Old ed. “_dispatch_ him.”
# 164:
_in_] Old ed. “_in_ your.”
# 165:
_it is_] Old ed. “’tis.”
# 166:
_deduct it to days_] “A Latinism, _deducere_, bring
it down, or, reduce it to days. This absurdity of
consulting the church-book for the age, &c. may be
kept in countenance by Beaumont and Fletcher, vol.
6th, p. 248. Indeed there are several passages in
this play that resemble some in the _Queen of
Corinth_.”—GIFFORD.
# 167:
_sexton_] Old ed. “_sexton_ for that.”
# 168:
_Scirophorion_ ... _Hecatombaion_] Old ed. “Scirophon
... Hecatomcaon.”—“Scirophorion, Hecatombaion, _and,
soon after_, December; what a medley! This miserable
ostentation of Greek literature is, I believe,
from the pen of Middleton, who was ‘a piece’ of a
scholar.”—GIFFORD.
# 169:
_Gnotho_] Old ed. “Gnothos.”
# 170:
_here’s a trick_, &c.] “This alludes to those games,
in which the low cards were thrown out; _coats_ were
what we call court cards. _The end of serving-men_,
which occurs in the next speech, is the title of an
old ballad.”—GIFFORD.
# 171:
_spoke_] Old ed. “spak.”
# 172:
_Gnotho_] Old ed. “Gnothos.”
# 173:
_if you do_] “i. e. if you _fare well_.”—GIFFORD.
# 174:
_passionately_] “i. e. plaintively,
sorrowfully.”—_Id._
# 175:
_and_] i. e. if.
# 176:
_broker_] Old ed. “brother.”
# 177:
_vow’d servants_] Old ed. “_servants vowd._”
# 178:
_Nor_] Old ed. “Nay.”
# 179:
_hour_] Old ed. “_hour_ at least.”
# 180:
_beguile_] Old ed. “beguild.”
# 181:
_and_] i. e. if.
# 182:
_fault_] “i. e. misfortune.”—GIFFORD.
# 183:
_and_] i. e. if.
# 184:
_discover’d_] Old ed. “_discoverd_ gentlemen.”
# 185:
_grinning_] Old ed. “ginny.”
# 186:
_and_] i. e. if.
# 187:
_cannot_] Old ed. “can’t.”
# 188:
_one_] Old ed. “_one_ and.”
# 189:
_horse-trick_] “Some rough curvetting is here meant,
but I know not the precise motion. The word occurs in
a _Woman killed with Kindness_. ‘Though we be but
country fellows, it may be, in the way of dancing, we
can do the _horse_-trick as well as the serving-men.’
A. 1.”—GIFFORD.
# 190:
_and_] i. e. if.
# 191:
_and_] i. e. if.
# 192:
_trillibubs._] “This seems to be a cant word for any
thing of a trifling nature.”—GIFFORD.
# 193:
FIRST COURTIER _dances a galliard_] The stage-
direction in old ed. is “_A Gailliard Laminiard_.”—“A
galliard is described by Sir John Davis as a _swift
and wandering dance, with lofty turns and capriols in
the air_; and so very proper to prove the strength and
activity of Lysander. It is still more graphically
described, as Mr. Gilchrist observes, in Burton’s
_Anat. of Melancholy_: ‘Let them take their pleasures,
young men and maides flourishing in their age, fair
and lovely to behold, well attired and of comely
carriage, dancing _a Greeke Galliarde, and, as their
dance required, kept their time, now turning, now
tracing, now apart, now altogether, now a curtesie,
then a caper, &c._, that it was a pleasant sight.’
Fol. 1632.”—GIFFORD.
# 194:
_go_] Old ed. “ago.”
# 195:
_vennies_] or _venues_, i. e. assaults, bouts, turns.
# 196:
_a flap-dragon_] Was a raisin, plum, &c., and
sometimes even a candle’s end, made to float in a
shallow dish, or glass, of brandy, or other liquor,
from which, when set on fire, it was to be snatched by
the mouth and swallowed. Gallants in former days vied
with each other in drinking off flap-dragons to the
healths of their mistresses.
# 197:
_it is_] Old ed. “’tis.”
# 198:
_you_] Old ed. “with _you_.”
# 199:
_vennies_] See note, p. 66.
# 200:
—— _with a trick_] “Lysander gives them all harsh
names—here he bestows one on Simonides, which the
delicacy or fear of the old publisher would not permit
him to hazard in print: tant mieux.”—GIFFORD.
# 201:
“This stuff is not worth explaining; but the reader,
if he has any curiosity on the subject, may amply
gratify it by a visit to Pantagruel and his companions
on the Isle Ennasin. Below, there is a miserable
pun upon _hair_—the _crossing_ of an _hare_ was
ominous.”—_Id._
# 202:
_and_] i. e. if.
# 203:
_the scotomy_] Old ed. “scotony.”—“The _scotomy_
(σκοτωμα) is a dizziness or swimming in the
head.”—_Id._
# 204:
_venny_] See note, p. 66.]
# 205:
_go_] Old ed. “goes.”
# 206:
_You_] Old ed. “It.”
# 207:
_are_] Old ed. “_are_ all.”
# 208:
_back_] Old ed. “black.”
# 209:
——_for’t had been safer Now to be mad_, &c.] “_Minus
est insania turpis._ There are many traits of
Massinger in this part of the scene.”—GIFFORD.
# 210:
_has_] i. e. he has—an elliptical expression frequent
in our early poets.
# 211:
_thou’rt_] Old ed. “thou art.”
# 212:
See note, p. 72.
# 213:
_consort_] i. e. company of musicians.
# 214:
_Gnotho_] Old ed. “Gnothoes.”
# 215:
_foot_] Old ed. “foole.”
# 216:
_we have Siren here_ ... _’twas Hiren, the fair
Greek_] In Shakespeare’s _Henry IV._, Part II. Act ii.
Sc. 4., Pistol exclaims, “have we not Hiren here?” and
the same (or nearly the same) words occur in several
other old plays. They seem to be a quotation from a
(now-lost) drama by Peele, called _The Turkish Mahomet
and Hiren the Fair Greek_. See the commentators on the
passage of Shakespeare just cited, and my Account of
Peele, &c. p. xxxv., prefixed to his _Works_, sec. ed.
# 217:
_Gnotho_] Old ed. “Gnothoes.”
# 218:
_She grew longer_, &c.] “This miserable trash, which
is quite silly enough to be original, has yet the
merit of being copied from Shakspeare.”—GIFFORD.
# 219:
_avoirdupois_] Old ed. “haberdepoyse.”
# 220:
_consort_] i. e. company: see note, p. 75.
# 221:
_wizards_] Old ed. “vizards.”
# 222:
_Gnotho_] Old ed. “Gnothoes.”
# 223:
_No_] Old ed. “She;” but compare p. 76.
# 224:
This stage-direction in old ed. stands thus: “_The
Dance of old women maskt, then offer to take the men,
they agree all but Gnothoes: he sits with his Wench
after they whisper._”
# 225:
_Gnotho_] Old ed. “Gnothoes.”
# 226:
_a mermaid_] “The mermaids of the writer’s time had
succeeded to the Syrens of the ancients, and possessed
all their musical as well as seductive qualities.
Mermaid also was one of the thousand cant terms which
served to denote a strumpet; and to this, perhaps,
Agatha alludes.”—GIFFORD.
# 227:
_old_] Old ed. “old _old_.”
# 228:
_thine_] Old ed. “nine.”
# 229:
_Gnotho_] Old ed. “Gnothoes.”
# 230:
_Gnotho_] Old ed. “Gnothoes.”
# 231:
_loath to depart_] “There was anciently both a tune
and a dance of this name; to the former of which
Gnotho alludes.”—GIFFORD.
# 232:
_bawd does_] Old ed. “bawds doe.”—Rings with deaths’
heads on them used to be worn by procuresses, probably
from an affectation of piety: see my ed. of Webster’s
_Works_, iii. 212. and note there.
# 233:
_And I’ll bury some money before I die_, &c.]
“This, as every one knows, was an infallible method
of causing the person who did it to walk after
death.”—GIFFORD.
# 234:
_Though_, &c.] To this line in the old ed. “_Hip._” is
prefixed.
# 235:
_’gainst_] Old ed. “against.”
# 236:
_prove_] Old ed. “proves.”
# 237:
_make_] Old ed. “makes.”
# 238:
_How sweetly_, &c.] In the old ed. this speech, as far
as “senses,” is given to Hippolita, and the rest to
Cleanthes.
# 239:
_the chiefest_] Old ed. “_the_ first and _chiefest_.”
# 240:
_can’t_] Old ed. “cannot.”
# 241:
_comfort_] “The old copy has _consort_, which induced
Coxeter to give the speech to Hippolita. I have little
doubt but that the mistake is in this word, which
should be _comfort_, as it stands in the text: by this
term the fond parent frequently addresses his
children. In the mouth of Leonides, too, it forms a
natural reply to the question of Cleanthes, who then
turns to make the same demand of his wife.”—GIFFORD.
# 242:
_That only_, &c.] This and the next line are
transposed in the old ed.
# 243:
_lightness_] Old ed. “lightning.”]
# 244:
_propension_] Old ed. “proportion.”
# 245:
_to afford_] Old ed. “t’afford.”
# 246:
_Has_] i. e. he has. See note, p. 72.
# 247:
_That cries most_, &c.] “Our old poets abound in
allusions to this stratagem of the lapwing.”-GIFFORD.
# 248:
_make_] Old ed. “makes.”
# 249:
_me_] Old ed. “a _mee_.”
# 250:
_affliction_] Old ed. “affection.”
# 251:
_his_] Old ed. “this.”
# 252:
_comforts_] Old ed. “consorts:” see p. 84, and note.
# 253:
——_blood_;
_The sorrows_, &c.]
Old ed.
——“_blood_, to
_The sorrows that he feels, are our heads_.”
# 254:
_thee_] Old ed. “him.”
# 255:
_her_] Old ed. “their.”
# 256:
_and_] i. e. if.
# 257:
_Clean._] Old ed. “Hip.”
# 258:
_eleven_] Old ed. “leaven.”
# 259:
_fellow_] Old ed. “follow.”
# 260:
_sit_] Old ed. “set.”
# 261:
_an_] Old ed. “one.”
# 262:
_vild_] i. e. vile—a form of the word common in our
early poetry.
# 263:
_Their fathers_] Old ed. “Her father.”
# 264:
_Widow_] Old ed. “Widdows.”
# 265:
_Sim._] So Gifford. The old ed. gives this to Eugenia.
# 266:
_Ere_] Old ed. “Ever.”
# 267:
_You_] Old ed. “We.”
# 268:
_ne’er touch’d by razor_] Old ed. “new _tucht by_
reason.” The emendation is M. Mason’s.
# 269:
_To call you judges doth not suit your years,
Nor heads and beards shew more antiquity_;—] “Mr. M.
Mason reads,
_To call you judges doth not suit your years,
Nor heads; and brains shew more antiquity._
It is evident that he did not comprehend the sense,
which, though ill conceived and harshly expressed,
is,—You have not the years of judges, nor do your
heads and _beards_ (old copy, _brains_) shew more of
age.”—GIFFORD.
# 270:
_beauty serves_] Old ed. “beautifeaus.”
# 271:
_bold_] Old ed. “of old.”
# 272:
—— _turn the soul_] “So the old copy: Coxeter and Mr.
M. Mason read, _turn the_ scale, which has neither the
spirit nor the sense of the original.”—GIFFORD.
# 273:
_yourselves_] Old ed. “yourselfe.”
# 274:
_forward for thee without fee_] So Gifford. Old ed.
has “_forward fee thee_,” and gives “_without fee_” as
a stage-direction, in the margin.
# 275:
_Times of amazement_! _what duty, goodness dwell_—]
“Mr. M. Mason takes this for a complete sentence, and
would read, _Where do you goodness dwell?_ In any case
the alteration would be too violent; but none is
needed here. Hippolita sees the woman who betrayed her
approaching, breaks off her intended speech with an
indignant observation, and hastily retires from the
court.”—GIFFORD.
# 276:
_My stomach_ strives _to dinner_.] “This is sense,
and therefore I have not tampered with it: the
author probably wrote, _My stomach_ strikes _to
dinner_.”—_Id._
# 277:
_Dutch venny_] Compare p. 66, 67. Gifford gives
“_Dutch_ what-you-call;” and perhaps rightly, as the
names of the other two “wet vennies” follow.
# 278:
_pepper’d_] Old ed. “prepard.”
# 279:
_A Flourish_, &c.] Old ed.
“Florish.
_Duk._ A flemish. _Enter the Duke._”
# 280:
FIRST] Old ed. “2.”
# 281:
EVAN. _Nay, back t’ your seats_] “The old copy reads,
_Nay_, bathe _your seats_; out of which Mr. M. Mason
formed _keep_; Davis, _take_; and every one may make
what he can. I believe the young men were pressing
forward to receive the duke, and that his exclamation
was, as above, _Nay_, back t’ _your seats_.”—GIFFORD.
This line is given in the old ed. to “_2 Court_.”
# 282:
SECOND COURT. _May’t please_, &c.] Old ed.
“_Duk._ May’t please your highness.
_Sim._ ’Tis old Lisander.”
# 283:
_else_] So Gifford. Old ed. “as are.”
# 284:
EUG. _Your place above_] Old ed.
“_Hip._ Your place above—Duke—away to death with him.
_Cleanthes_ Guard.”
I have followed Gifford in this scene.
# 285:
_car’d_] Old ed. “guard.” What is now given to
Lysander forms part of Simonides’s speech in old ed.
# 286:
EVAN. _Away_, &c.] See note 284 in this page.
# 287:
_offender_] Old ed. “offenders.”
# 288:
_order_] Old ed. “orders.”
# 289:
_swoon_] Old ed. “stand.”
# 290:
[_spreading_] _palm_] “I have inserted _spreading_,
not merely on account of its completing the verse, but
because it contrasts well with _contracted_. Whatever
the author’s word was, it was shuffled out of its
place at the press, and appears as a misprint
(_showdu_) in the succeeding line.”—GIFFORD.
# 291:
_of_] Old ed. “to.”
# 292:
_our_] Old ed. “one.”
# 293:
_And much less mean to entreat it_] “For _mean_ the
old copy has _shown_, which is pure nonsense: it
stands, however, in all the editions. I have, I
believe, recovered the genuine text by adopting
_mean_, which was superfluously inserted in the line
immediately below it.”—GIFFORD.
# 294:
_humour_] Old ed. “honour.”
# 295:
_My lords, it shall_] “i. e. it shall _be briefly
questioned_. This would not have deserved a note, had
not Mr. M. Mason mistaken the meaning, and corrupted
the text to, _My lords_, I _shall_.”—_Id._
# 296:
_you_] Old ed. “them.”
# 297:
_godlike_] Old ed. “_goe like_.”
# 298:
_We’ve_] Old ed. “We have.”
# 299:
_we’re_] Old ed. “wee are.”
# 300:
_It is_] Old ed. “’Tis.”
# 301:
_a_] Old ed. “him.”
# 302:
_bad_] Old ed. “a _bad_.”
# 303:
_you’re_] Old ed. “yeare.”
# 304:
_’gainst_] Old ed. “against.”
# 305:
_judge, I desire, then_] Old ed. “_judge then, I
desire_.”
# 306:
_This were_, &c.] “i. e. O, that this were, &c. But,
indeed, this speech is so strangely printed in the
quarto, that it is almost impossible to guess what the
writer really meant. The first three lines stand thus:
CLEAN. _This were the judgment seat, we now
The heaviest crimes that ever made up
Unnaturalness in humanity._
Whether the genuine, or, indeed, any sense be elicited
by the additions which I have been compelled to make,
is not mine to say; but certainly some allowance will
be made for any temperate endeavour to regulate a text
where the words, in too many instances, appear as if
they had been shook out of the printer’s boxes by the
hand of chance.”—GIFFORD.
# 307:
_like_] Old ed. “lyar.”
# 308:
_they’re_] Old ed. “y’are.”
# 309:
_Here_] Old ed. “Where.”
# 310:
_come you_] Old ed. “_you come_.”
# 311:
_you are_] Old ed. “y’are.”
# 312:
_he’s_] Old ed. “he is.”
# 313:
SIM.] Old ed. “_Clean._”
# 314:
_pox_] Old ed. “a _pox_.”
# 315:
CLEAN.] Old ed. “_Sim._”
# 316:
SIM.] Old ed. “_Clean._”
# 317:
_vild_] See note, p. 94.
# 318:
_may challenge them_] Old ed. “my _challenge_ then.”
# 319:
CREON.] Old ed. “_Cle._”
# 320:
CREON.] Old ed. “_Cle._”
# 321:
_place_] Old ed. “places.”
# 322:
_mature_] Old ed. “nature.”
# 323:
CLEAN.] What is now assigned to Cleanthes is given to
First Courtier in the old ed.
# 324:
_shall_] Old ed. “whom it _shall_.”
# 325:
[_shall appear before us_] “Whether the words which I
have inserted convey the author’s meaning, or not, may
be doubted; but they make some sense of the passage,
and this is all to which they pretend.”—GIFFORD.
# 326:
_band_] So Gifford. Old ed. “baud.”—Qy. did the author
write “_The old_ bald sires _again_?”
# 327:
_May_] Old ed. “My.”
# 328:
_crowd on_] i. e. fiddle on. A fiddle is still called
a _crowd_ in many parts of England.
# 329:
_hat is_] Old ed. “hats.”
# 330:
_as he is my sovereign, I do give him two crowns
for it_, &c.] “Here is some poor pun. A sovereign
was a gold coin worth _ten_ shillings; or, is the
wit in some fancied similarity of sound between
_duke_ and _ducat_ (a piece of the same value as
the other)?”—GIFFORD.
# 331:
_you will_] Old ed. “you’l.”
# 332:
_goes_] Old ed. “_goes_ out.”
# 333:
_the_] Old ed. “a.”
# 334:
_Crowd on_] See note, p. 110.
# 335:
_and_] i. e. if.
# 336:
_Gnotho_] Old ed. “Gnothoes.”
# 337:
_at_] Old ed. “to.”
# 338:
_Gnotho_] Old ed. “Gnothoes.”
# 339:
_that_] Old ed. “where _that_.”
# 340:
_trumpet_] Old ed. “trumpets.”
# 341:
_hop’d it had_] Old ed. “hope t’ _had_.”
# 342:
_Gnotho_] Old ed. “Gnothoes.”
# 343:
_This passion has given some satisfaction yet_] “i.e.
this pathetic exclamation: it is parodied in part from
_the Spanish Tragedy_, and is, without all question,
by far the stupidest attempt at wit to which that
persecuted play ever gave rise. That it afforded _some
satisfaction_ to Lysander, ought, in courtesy, to be
attributed to his having more good nature than
taste.”—GIFFORD.
# 344:
_All hopes_, &c.] Gifford has given the four first
lines of this speech as verse, and I follow him. The
rhymes seem to have been lost in the wretched
corruption of the text.
# 345:
_my_] Old ed. “our.”
# 346:
_but_] Old ed. “fashion, _but_.”
# 347:
_were_] Old ed. “have.”
# 348:
_return_] Old ed. “retaine.”
# 349:
_bind_] Old ed. “bound.”
# 350:
_regent_] Old ed. “regents.”
# 351:
_grow_] Old ed. “grew.”
# 352:
_joy_] Old ed. “joyed.”
# 353:
_Gentlemen, &c._] The publisher’s address to the readers.
# 354:
An allusion to the suppression of the theatres by the
Puritans.
# 355:
“Huntingdon, the place where Oliver Cromwell was born, and
resided many years of his life. Some allusion here seems to
be lost.”—REED.
# 356:
_Raynulph_] “Raynulph Higden was the compiler of the
Polychronicon, as far as the year 1357, thirty-first
of Edward III. It was translated into English by
Trevisa, and completed and printed by Caxton in folio,
1482.”—REED.
# 357:
_agen_] The old spelling of _again_, and necessary
here for the sake of the rhyme: compare p. 416.
# 358:
_apaid_] i. e. satisfied, contented.
# 359:
_Before a Monastery_] The place of action is not
noted in the old ed., and Middleton seems to have
troubled himself little about the matter. After some
hesitation, I have marked the present scene “_Before
a Monastery_,” on account of what Constantius says
at p. 131:
“in mind
I will be always _here_; _here_ let me stay.”
That the scene cannot be _within_ the monastery, is
shewn by the entrance of the two Graziers.
# 360:
_They’re_] Old ed. “They are.”
# 361:
_I’m_] Old ed. “I am.”
# 362:
_We’re_] Old ed. “we are.”
# 363:
_Who’s_] Old ed. “Who is.”
# 364:
_general peace_] Compare p. 127, l. 12.
# 365:
_acts_] Old ed. “actions:” so afterwards in Act iii.
Sc. i. the old ed. has “If I ensnare her in an
_action_ of lust.”
# 366:
_requite_] Old ed. “require.”
# 367:
_preas’d_] i. e. pressed. Old ed. “prais’d.” _Prease_
for _press_ is very common in our early poets.
# 368:
_I’ve_] Old ed. “I have.”
# 369:
_e’er_] Old ed. “ever.”
# 370:
_’t_] Old ed. “it.”
# 371:
_remorse_] i. e. pity.
# 372:
_I’m_] Old ed. “I am.”
# 373:
_thy_] Old ed. “the.”
# 374:
_we’d_] Old ed. “wee’ld.”
# 375:
_recover’t_] Old ed. “recovered.”
# 376:
_like_] i. e. please.
# 377:
_you’ve_] Old ed. “You have.”
# 378:
_enter_] Old ed. “enters.”
# 379:
_passion_] i. e. sorrow.
# 380:
_you’re_] Old ed. “you are.”
# 381:
_rushes_] “With which anciently rooms used to be
strewed.”—REED.
# 382:
_Byrlady_] i. e. By our lady.
# 383:
_seems by my flesh_] An allusion to a very gross
saying, which will be found in Ray’s _Proverbs_, p.
179, ed. 1737.
# 384:
_We’re_] Old ed. “We are.”
# 385:
_nice_] i. e. scrupulous.
# 386:
_I’ve_] Old ed. “I have.”
# 387:
_like_] i. e. please.
# 388:
_You’ve_] Old ed. “You have.”
# 389:
_there is_] Old ed. “there’s.”
# 390:
_That is ... of’t_] Old ed. “that’s ... of it.”
# 391:
_o’er ... ne’er_] Old ed. “over ... never.”
# 392:
CAST.] Old ed. “_Const._”
# 393:
_lamp_] Old ed. “lump.”
# 394:
_I’m_] Old ed. “I am.”
# 395:
_I’m_] Old ed. “I am.”
# 396:
_they’d_] Old ed. “they’ld.”
# 397:
_they’re_] Old ed. “they are.”
# 398:
_I’ve_] Old ed. “I have.”
# 399:
_are_] Old ed. “is.”
# 400:
_We’ve_] Old ed. “we have.”
# 401:
_You will_] Old ed. “Will you.”
# 402:
_I’ve_] Old ed. “I have.”
# 403:
_You’d_] Old ed. “Youl’d.”
# 404:
_I’m_] Old ed. “I am.”
# 405:
_of’t_] Old ed. “of it.”
# 406:
_I’m strong_] Old ed. “I am stronger.”
# 407:
_And warranted worth lightens your fair aspècts_]
“Alluding to the story of Pope Gregory’s admiring the
beauty of the English youths at Rome. Beda, Hist. c.
i.”—REED. I believe the author has no such allusion.
# 408:
_Stay_[_s_] Qy. “_stains_;” i. e. brings into
disgrace, exceeds?—a common use of the word in our
early writers.
# 409:
_They’ve_] Old ed. “they have.”
# 410:
_fame_] Old ed. “same.”
# 411:
_condition_] i. e. disposition, or (as he has just
said) humour.
# 412:
_Why_, &c.] Qy. “Why, _will’t_ not keep a hog?”
# 413:
_fruitful ... uberous_] Synonymes.
# 414:
_take you_] Old ed. “you take.”
# 415:
_’bout_] Old ed. “about.”
# 416:
no proof in love to indiscretion] i. e. I suppose,—no
trial compared to that which is occasioned by the
indiscretion of the object beloved.
# 417:
_imposterous_] i. e. deceitful, cheating. The word
occurs in several of our early writers. Dodsley and
his editors chose to give the line thus:
“For when th’art known to be a whore, _impostress_.”
# 418:
_I’m_] Old ed. “I am.”
# 419:
_I’ve_] Old ed. “I have.”
# 420:
_I’ve_] Old ed. “I have.”
# 421:
_conceit_] i. e. conception, idea.
# 422:
_love’s_] Old ed. “love is.”
# 423:
_he’s_] Old ed. “he is.”
# 424:
_’Gainst_] Old ed. “Against.”
# 425:
_cast_] i. e. contrived.