The English Dramatists
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JOHN MARSTON
VOLUME THE SECOND
THE WORKS
OF
JOHN MARSTON
EDITED BY
A. H. BULLEN, B.A.
IN THREE VOLUMES
VOLUME THE SECOND
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LONDON
JOHN C. NIMMO
14, KING WILLIAM STREET, STRAND, W.C.
MDCCCLXXXVII
_Two hundred copies of this Edition on Laid paper, medium 8vo, have
been printed,_ viz., _120 for the English Market and 80 for
America. Each copy numbered as issued._
_No. 30_
CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
PAGE
THE DUTCH COURTEZAN 1
THE FAWN 105
THE WONDER OF WOMEN; OR, THE TRAGEDY OF
SOPHONISBA 231
WHAT YOU WILL 317
THE DUTCH COURTEZAN.
_The Dutch Courtezan. As it was playd in the Blacke-Friars, by the
Children of her Maiesties Reuels. Written By Iohn Marston. At
London, Printed by T. P. for Iohn Hodgets, and are to be sould at
his shop in Paules Church-yard._ 1605. 4to.
STORY OF THE PLAY.
Young Freevill, being about to marry Beatrice, daughter to Sir Hubert
Subboys, determines to break his connection with Franceschina, the
Dutch Courtezan. He introduces to Franceschina his friend Malheureux.
This gentleman, who had hitherto led a strict life, is violently
inflamed with passion at first sight of Franceschina. She promises to
gratify his passion on one condition,--that he kills Freevill. As
proof that the deed has been accomplished, he is to bring her a ring
that had been presented to Freevill by Beatrice. Malheureux discloses
the plot to Freevill, who undertakes to help him out of his
difficulty. At a masque given in honour of the approaching marriage,
Malheureux pretends to pick a quarrel with Freevill, and retires with
him as though to fight a duel. Freevill is to lie hid at the house of
a jeweller, while Malheureux posts with the ring to Franceschina. She
hastens to communicate the news to Freevill's father and Beatrice,
Freevill accompanying her in the disguise of a pander. Thereupon old
Freevill and Sir Hubert Subboys, attended by officers, proceed to
Franceschina's lodging, conceal themselves behind the curtain, and
await the arrival of Malheureux, who comes at the hour appointed by
Franceschina. They hear from his own lips a confession of the murder,
arrest him, and lead him away to prison. Malheureux protests his
innocence, but, as Freevill has not been near the jeweller's house,
his protestations are disregarded and the day for his execution is
fixed. At the last moment Freevill presents himself and begs
forgiveness for the device that he had adopted in order to cure his
friend's passion. Franceschina is condemned to "the whip and jail;"
and all ends happily.
The play is enlivened by an underplot, which deals with the various
tricks played by a clever knave called Cocledemoy on a vintner of
Cheap, Master Mulligrub.
PROLOGUE.
Slight hasty labours in this easy play
Present not what you would, but what we may:
For this vouchsafe to know,--the only end
Of our now study is, not to offend.
Yet think not but, like others, rail we could
(Best art presents not what it can but should);
And if our pen in this seem over-slight,
We strive not to instruct, but to delight.
As for some few, we know of purpose here
To tax and scout, know firm art cannot fear 10
Vain rage; only the highest grace we pray
Is, you'll not tax until you judge our play.
Think, and then speak: 'tis rashness, and not wit,
To speak what is in passion, and not judgment fit.
Sit then with fair expectance, and survey
Nothing but passionate man in his slight play,
Who hath this only ill, to some deem'd worst--
A modest diffidence, and self-mistrust.
_Fabulæ Argumentum._
The difference betwixt the love of a courtezan and a wife is the full
scope of the play, which, intermixed with the deceits of a witty city
jester, fills up the comedy.
_DRAMATIS PERSONÆ._
Sir LIONEL FREEVILL, } _two old knights_.
Sir HUBERT SUBBOYS, }
Young FREEVILL, Sir LIONEL'S _son_.
MALHEUREUX, Young FREEVILL'S _unhappy friend_.
TYSEFEW, _a blunt gallant_.
CAQUETEUR, _a prattling gull_.
COCLEDEMOY, _a knavishly witty City Companion_.
MASTER MULLIGRUB, _a vintner_.
MASTER BURNISH, _a goldsmith_.
LIONEL, _his man_.
HOLIFERNES REINSCURE, _a barbers boy_.
BEATRICE, } _Sir Hubert's daughters_.
CRISPINELLA, }
PUTIFER, _their nurse_.
MISTRESS MULLIGRUB.
FRANCESCHINA, _a Dutch Courtezan_.
MARY FAUGH, _an old woman_.
_Three Watchmen_; _Pages_; _Officers_.
SCENE--LONDON.
THE DUTCH COURTEZAN.[1]
ACT I.
SCENE I.
_A Street._
_Enter three Pages, with lights._ MULLIGRUB, FREEVILL,
MALHEUREUX, TYSEFEW, _and_ CAQUETEUR.
_Free._ Nay, comfort, my good host Shark; my good
Mulligrub.
_Mal._ Advance thy snout; do not suffer thy sorrowful
nose to drop on thy Spanish[2] leather jerkin, most
hardly-honest Mulligrub.
_Free._ What, cogging Cocledemoy is run away with
a neast[3] of goblets? True, what then? they will be
hammered out well enough, I warrant you.
_Mul._ Sure, some wise man would find them out
presently. 10
_Free._ Yes, sure, if we could find out some wise man
presently.
_Mal._ How was the plate lost? how did it vanish?
_Free._ In most sincere prose, thus: that man of much
money, some wit, but less honesty, cogging Cocledemoy,
comes this night late into mine hostess Mulligrub's
tavern here; calls for a room; the house being full,
Cocledemoy consorted with his movable chattel, his
instrument of fornication, the bawd Mrs. Mary Faugh,
are imparlour'd next the street; good poultry was their
food, blackbird, lark, woodcock; and mine host here
comes in, cries "God bless you!" and departs. A
blind harper enters, craves audience, uncaseth, plays;
the drawer, for female privateness' sake, is nodded out,
who knowing that whosoever will hit the mark of profit
must, like those that shoot in stone-bows,[4] wink with
one eye, grows blind o' the right side, and departs. 27
_Caq._ He shall answer for that winking with one eye
at the last day.
_Mal._ Let him have day[5] till then, and he will wink
with both his eyes.
_Free._ Cocledemoy, perceiving none in the room but
the blind harper (whose eyes Heaven had shut up from
beholding wickedness), unclasps a casement to the
street very patiently, pockets up three bowls unnaturally,
thrusts his wench forth the window, and himself
most preposterously, with his heels forward, follows:
the unseeing harper plays on, bids the empty dishes and
the treacherous candles much good do them. The
drawer returns, but, out alas! not only the birds, but
also the neast of goblets, were flown away. Laments
are raised---- 42
_Tys._ Which did not pierce the heavens.
_Free._ The drawers moan, mine host doth cry, the
bowls are gone.
_Mul._ _Hic finis Priami!_
_Mal._ Nay, be not jaw-fall'n, my most sharking Mulligrub.
_Free._ 'Tis your just affliction; remember the sins of
the cellar, and repent, repent! 50
_Mul._ I am not jaw-fall'n, but I will hang the coney-catching
Cocledemoy; and there's an end of't.
[_Exit._
_Caq._ Is it a right stone? it shows well by candle-light.
_Free._ So do many things that are counterfeit, but I
assure you this is a right diamond.
_Caq._ Might I borrow it of you? it will not a little
grace my finger in visitation of my mistress.
_Free._ Why, use it, most sweet Caqueteur, use it.
_Caq._ Thanks, good sir; 'tis grown high night:
gentles, rest to you.
[_Exit._
_Tys._ A torch! Sound wench, soft sleep, and sanguine
dreams to you both. On, boy! 62
_Free._ Let me bid you good rest.
_Mal._ Not so, trust me, I must bring my friend home:
I dare not give you up to your own company; I fear
the warmth of wine and youth will draw you to some
common house of lascivious entertainment.
_Free._ Most necessary buildings, Malheureux; ever
since my intention of marriage, I do pray for their
continuance. 70
_Mal._ Loved sir, your reason?
_Free._ Marry, lest my house should be made one. I
would have married men love the stews as Englishmen
loved the Low Countries: wish war should be maintain'd
there, lest it should come home to their own doors.
What, [not] suffer a man to have a hole to put his head
in, though he go to the pillory for it! Youth and appetite
are above the club of Hercules.
_Mal._ This lust is a most deadly sin, sure.
_Free._ Nay, 'tis a most lively sin, sure. 80
_Mal._ Well, I am sure, 'tis one of the head sins.
_Free._ Nay, I am sure it is one of the middle sins.
_Mal._ Pity 'tis grown a most daily vice.
_Free._ But a more nightly vice, I assure you.
_Mal._ Well, 'tis a sin.
_Free._ Ay, or else few men would wish to go to heaven:
and, not to disguise with my friend, I am now going the
way of all flesh.
_Mal._ Not to a courtezan?
_Free._ A courteous one. 90
_Mal._ What, to a sinner?
_Free._ A very publican.
_Mal._ Dear, my loved friend, let me be full with you:
Know, sir, the strongest argument that speaks
Against the soul's eternity is lust,
That wise man's folly, and the fool's wisdom:
But to grow wild in loose lasciviousness,
Given up to heat and sensual appetite,
Nay, to expose your health and strength and name,
Your precious time, and with that time the hope 100
Of due preferment, advantageous means,
Of any worthy end, to the stale use,
The common bosom of a money creature,
One that sells human flesh--a mangonist!
_Free._ Alas, good creatures! what would you have
them do? Would you have them get their living by
the curse of man, the sweat of their brows? So they do:
every man must follow his trade, and every woman her
occupation. A poor decayed mechanical man's wife,
her husband is laid up, may not she lawfully be laid
down, when her husband's only rising is by his wife's
falling? A captain's wife wants means; her commander
lies in open fields abroad, may not she lie in civil arms
at home? A waiting gentlewoman, that had wont to
take say[6] to her lady, miscarries or so; the court
misfortune throws her down; may not the city courtesy
take her up? Do you know no alderman would pity
such a woman's case?[7] Why, is charity grown a sin,
or relieving the poor and impotent an offence? You
will say beasts take no money for their fleshly entertainment:
true, because they are beasts, therefore beastly;[8]
only men give to loose, because they are men, therefore
manly: and indeed, wherein should they bestow their
money better? In land, the title may be crack'd; in
houses, they may be burnt; in apparel, 'twill wear; in
wine, alas for our pity! our throat is but short: but
employ your[9] money upon women, and a thousand to
nothing, some one of them will bestow that on you
which shall stick by you as long as you live; they are
no ungrateful persons, they will give quid [10] for quo: do
ye protest, they'll swear; do you rise, they'll fall; do
you fall, they'll rise; do you give them the French
crown, they'll give you the French--_O justus justa
justum!_ They sell their bodies: do not better persons
sell their souls? nay, since all things have been sold,
honour, justice, faith, nay, even God Himself, 136
Aye me, what base ignobleness is it
To sell the pleasure of a wanton bed!
Why do men scrape, why heap to full heaps join?
But for his mistress, who would care for coin?
For this I hold to be denied of no man,
All things are made for man, and man for woman.
Give me my fee.
_Mal._ Of ill you merit well. My heart's good friend,
Leave yet at length, at length; for know this ever,
'Tis no such sin to err, but to persever.
_Free._ Beauty is woman's virtue, love the life's music,
and woman the dainties, or second course of heaven's
curious workmanship. Since then beauty, love, and
woman are good, how can the love of woman's beauty
be bad? and, _Bonum, quo communius, eo melius_: wilt
then go with me? 152
_Mal._ Whither?
_Free._ To a house of salvation.
_Mal._ Salvation?
_Free._ Yes, 'twill make thee repent. Wilt go to the
family of love?[11] I will show thee my creature; a pretty
nimble-ey'd Dutch tanakin;[12] an honest soft-hearted
impropriation; a soft, plump, round-cheek'd froe,[13] that
has beauty enough for her virtue, virtue enough for a
woman, and woman enough for any reasonable man in
my knowledge. Wilt pass along with me? 162
_Mal._ What, to a brothel?--to behold an impudent
prostitution;[14] fie on't, I shall hate the whole sex to see
her. The most odious spectacle the earth can present
is an immodest vulgar woman.
_Free._ Good still; my brain shall keep't. You must
go as you love me.
_Mal._ Well, I'll go to make her loath the shame she's in;
The sight of vice augments the hate of sin. 170
_Free._ The sight of vice augments the hate of sin!
Very fine, perdy!
[_Exeunt._
[1] In the old eds., opposite the title, is written, "Turpe est
difficiles habere nugas." The quotation is from Martial, ii. 86.
[2] Spanish leather was held in great esteem.--See Middleton,
viii. 70.
[3] The word "nest" was frequently written "neast." (Cotgrave
has--"_Nicher._ To _neastle_, build or make a _neast_ in;"
"_Nid_: neast.") A "nest of goblets" was a large goblet
containing several others of gradually diminishing size.
[4] A cross-bow for shooting stones or bullets. ("_Arbaleste à
boulet._" A _stone-bow_.--_Cotgrave._)
[5] A debtor was said to have _day_ (or _longer day_) when his
creditors allowed him to defer payment.
[6] "Take say" is used here with a double meaning. "Say" was a
sort of delicate serge; but the waiting-woman _takes say_
(_i.e._, assay) because she tastes before her mistress (and is
suitably rewarded for her lickorousness).
[7] A play on words: (1) case; (2) kaze ( = _pudendum muliebre_).
[8] Compare the witticism of Julia, daughter of Augustus, in
Macrobius (_Saturn._, ii. 5).
[9] Ed. 2. "you."
[10] Old eds. "quite" and "quit."
[11] For an account of the religious sect called _The Family of
Love_, see Middleton, iii. 3-5.
[12] Halliwell (_Dict. of Arch. and Prov. Words_) quotes from
Armin's _Nest of Ninnies_:--"Out she would, tucks up her
trinkets, like a Dutch _tannikin_ sliding to market on the ice,
and away she flings."
[13] Woman (_Dutch_).
[14] Whore. (The word _brothel_ was so used).--Cf. Middleton, i.
269: "I may grace her with the name of a courtezan, a backslider,
a _prostitution_," &c.
SCENE II.
_A Brothel._
_Enter_ COCLEDEMOY _and_ MARY FAUGH.
_Coc._ Mary, Mary Faugh.
_Mar._ Hem.[15]
_Coc._ Come, my worshipful rotten rough-bellied bawd!
ha! my blue-tooth'd patroness of natural wickedness,
give me the goblets.
_Mar._ By yea and by nay, Master Cocledemoy, I fear
you'll play the knave, and restore them.
_Coc._ No, by the lord, aunt,[16] restitution is catholic,
and thou know'st we love----
_Mar._ What? 10
_Coc._ Oracles are ceased: _tempus præteritum_, doest hear,
my worshipful glysterpipe, thou ungodly fire that burnt
Diana's temple?--doest hear, bawd?
_Mar._ In very good truthness, you are the foulest-mouth'd,
profane, railing brother, call a woman the most
ungodly names: I must confess, we all eat of the forbidden
fruit, and for mine own part, though I am one of
the family of love, and, as they say, a bawd that covers
the multitude of sins, yet I trust I am none of the wicked
that eat fish o' Fridays. 20
_Coc._ Hang toasts! I rail at thee, my worshipful organ-bellows
that fills the pipes, my fine rattling fleamy cough
o' the lungs, and cold with a pox? I rail at thee? what,
my right precious pandress, supportress of barber-surgeons,
and enhanceress[17] of lotium[18] and diet-drink?[19]
I rail at thee, necessary damnation? I'll make an
oration, I, in praise of thy most courtly in-fashion and
most pleasureable function, I.
_Mar._ Ay, prithee do, I love to hear myself praised, as
well as any old lady, I. 30
_Coc._ List then:--a bawd; first for her profession or
vocation, it is most worshipful of all the twelve companies;
for, as that trade is most honourable that sells
the best commodities--as the draper is more worshipful
than the pointmaker, the silkman more worshipful than
the draper, and the goldsmith more honourable than
both, little Mary, so the bawd above all: her shop has
the best ware; for where these sell but cloth, satins, and
jewels, she sells divine virtues, as virginity, modesty, and
such rare gems; and those not like a petty chapman, by
retail, but like a great merchant, by wholesale; wa, ha,
ho! And who are her customers? Not base corn-cutters
or sowgelders, but most rare wealthy knights,
and most rare bountiful lords, are her customers. Again,
whereas no trade or vocation profiteth but by the loss
and displeasure of another--as the merchant thrives not
but by the licentiousness of giddy[20] and unsettled youth;
the lawyer, but by the vexation of his client; the physician,
but by the maladies of his patient--only my
smooth-gumm'd bawd lives by others' pleasure, and
only grows rich by others' rising. O merciful gain, O
righteous in-come! So much for her vocation, trade,
and life. As for their death, how can it be bad, since
their wickedness is always before their eyes, and a
death's[21] head most commonly on their middle-finger?
To conclude, 'tis most certain they must needs both live
well and die well, since most commonly they live in
Clerkenwell,[22] and die in Bride-well. _Dixi, Mary._ 158
_Enter_ FREEVILL _and_ MALHEUREUX.
_Free._ Come along, yonder's the preface or exordium
to my wench, the bawd. Fetch, fetch! What! Mr.
Cocledemoy, is your knaveship yet stirring? Look to it,
Mulligrub lies[23] for you.
_Enter_ COCLEDEMOY.
_Coc._ The more fool he; I can lie for myself, worshipful
friend. Hang toasts! I vanish. Ha! my fine boy,
thou art a scholar, and hast read Tully's _Offices_, my fine
knave. Hang toasts!
_Free._ The vintner will toast you, and he catch you.
_Coc._ I will draw the vintner to the stoop, and when
he runs low, tilt him. Ha! my fine knave, art going to
thy recreation? 170
_Free._ Yes, my capricious rascal.
_Coc._ Thou wilt look like a fool then, by and by.
_Free._ Look like a fool, why?
_Coc._ Why, according to the old saying: a beggar
when he is lousing of himself, looks like a philosopher;
a hard-bound philosopher, when he is on the stool, looks
like a tyrant; and a wise man, when he is in his belly
act, looks like a fool. God give your worship good rest!
grace and mercy keep your syringe straight, and your
lotium unspilt. 180
_Enter_ FRANCESCHINA.
_Free._ See, sir, this is she.
_Mal._ This?
_Free._ This.
_Mal._ A courtezan?--Now, cold blood defend me!
What a propension[24] afflicts me!
_Fran._ O, mine aderliver[25] love, vat sall me do to requit
dis your mush affection?
_Free._ Marry, salute my friend, clip his neck, and kiss
him welcome.
_Fran._ A' mine art, sir, you bin very velcome. 190
_Free._ Kiss her, man, with a more familiar affection, so.
Come, what entertainment? go to your lute.
[_Exit_ FRANCESCHINA.
And how dost approve my sometimes elected? She's
none of your ramping cannibals that devour man's flesh,
nor any of your Curtian gulfs that will never be satisfied
until the best thing a man has be thrown into them.
I loved her with my heart, until my soul showed me the
imperfection of my body, and placed my affection on a
lawful love, my modest Beatrice, which if this shortheels
knew, there were no being for me with eyes before her
face. But, faith, dost thou not somewhat excuse my
sometimes incontinency, with her enforcive beauties?
Speak. 203
_Mal._ Hah! she is a whore, is she not?
_Free._ Whore? fie, whore! you may call her a courtezan,
a cockatrice,[26] or (as that worthy spirit of an eternal happiness
said) a suppository. But whore! fie, 'tis not in
fashion to call things by their right names. Is a great
merchant a cuckold, you must say he is one of the
livery. Is a great lord a fool, you must say he is weak.
Is a gallant pocky, you must say he has the court scab.
Come, she's your mistress or so. 212
_Enter_ FRANCESCHINA, _with her lute_.
Come, siren, your voice.
_Fra._ Vill not you stay in mine bosom to-night, love?
_Free._ By no means, sweet breast; this gentleman has
vow'd to see me chastely laid.
_Fra._ He shall have a bed too, if dat it please him.
_Free._ Peace, you tender him offence; he is one of a
professed abstinence. Siren, your voice and away.
_She sings to her Lute._
THE SONG.
_The dark is my delight, 220
So 'tis the nightingale's;
My music's in the night,
So is the nightingale's;
My body is but little,
So is the nightingale's;
I love to sleep 'gainst prickle,
So doth the nightingale._
Thanks; buss; so. The night grows old; good rest.
_Fra._ Rest to mine dear love; rest, and no long absence. 230
_Free._ Believe me, not long.
_Fra._ Sall ick not believe you long?
[_Exit_ FRANCESCHINA.
_Free._ O yes, come, _via!_[27]--away, boy--on!
[_Exit, his Page lighting him._
_Re-enter_ FREEVILL, _and seems to overhear_ MALHEUREUX.
_Mal._ Is she unchaste--can such a one be damn'd?
O love and beauty! ye two eldest seeds
Of the vast chaos, what strong right you have
Even in things divine--our very souls!
_Free._ [_aside._] Wha, ha, ho! come, bird, come. Stand, peace!
_Mal._ Are strumpets then such things so delicate?
Can custom spoil what nature made so good? 240
Or is their custom bad? Beauty's for use--
I never saw a sweet face vicious!
It might be proud, inconstant, wanton, nice,
But never tainted with unnatural vice.
Their worst is, their best art is love to win--
O that to love should be or shame, or sin!
_Free._ [_aside._] By the Lord! he's caught! Laughter eternal!
_Mal._ Soul, I must love her! Destiny is weak
To my affection.--A common love!--
Blush not, faint breast! 250
That which is ever loved of most is best.
Let colder eld the strong'st objections move,
No love's without some lust, no life without some love.
_Free._ Nay, come on, good sir; what, though the most
odious spectacle the world can present be an immodest
vulgar woman? yet, sir, for my sake----
_Mal._ Well, sir, for your sake, I'll think better of them.
_Free._ Do, good sir; and pardon me that have brought you in:
You know the sight of vice augments the hate of sin.
_Mal._ Hah! will you go home, sir; 'tis high bedtime? 260
_Free._ With all my heart, sir; only do not chide me.
I must confess----
_Mal._ A wanton lover you have been.
_Free._ O that to love should be or shame or sin!
_Mal._ Say ye?
_Free._ Let colder eld the strongest objections move!
_Mal._ How's this?
_Free._ No love's without some lust, no life without some love.
Go your ways for an apostata! I believe my cast garment
must be let out in the seams for you when all is
done. 270
Of all the fools that would all man out-thrust,
He that 'gainst Nature would seem wise is worst.
[_Exeunt._
[15] Cf. Middleton, iv. 246.
[16] Cant term for a bawd.
[17] "_Encherisseur._ A high bidder or out-bidder of others; a
raiser or _enhancer_ of the price of things," &c.--_Cotgrave._
[18] Old eds. "lotinus."
[19] "Diet-drink"--medicine prescribed for a patient who was
_taking diet_ (_i.e._, being treated for the pox).
[20] Ed. 2. "giddy youth, and unsetled."
[21] It appears from many passages in old writers that bawds were
accustomed to wear rings with death's heads on them. Cf. Dekker
and Webster's _Northward Ho_, iv. 1:--"And as if I were a bawd no
ring pleases me but a death's head."
[22] Turnmill Street, the headquarters of Elizabethan whores, was
situated in Clerkenwell.
[23] _i.e._, is in ambush.
[24] Old eds. "proportion."
[25] A corruption of Dutch "alderliefster."
[26] A term for a courtezan; particularly applied to a captain's
mistress.
[27] "Via"--away, on!
ACT II.
SCENE I.
_Outside_ Sir HUBERT SUBBOY'S _house, under_ BEATRICE'S
_window_.
_Enter_ FREEVILL, _Pages with torches and Gentlemen with
music_.
_Free._ The morn is yet but young. Here, gentlemen,
This is my Beatrice' window--this the chamber
Of my betrothèd dearest, whose chaste eyes,
Full of loved sweetness and clear cheerfulness,
Have gaged my soul to her enjoyings;
Shredding away all those weak under-branches
Of base affections and unfruitful heats.
Here bestow your music to my voice.
[_A song._
_Enter_ BEATRICE _above_.
Always a virtuous name to my chaste love!
_Bea._ Loved sir, 10
The honour of your wish return to you.
I cannot with a mistress' compliment,
Forcèd discourses, or nice art of wit,
Give entertain to your dear-wishèd presence:
But safely thus,--what hearty gratefulness,
Unsullen silence, unaffected modesty,
And an unignorant shamefastness can express,
Receive as your protested due. 'Faith, my heart,
I am your servant.
O let not my secure simplicity 20
Breed your mislike, as one quite void of skill;
'Tis grace enough in us not to be ill.
I can some good, and, faith, I mean no hurt;
Do not then, sweet, wrong sober ignorance.
I judge you all of virtue, and our vows
Should kill all fears that base distrust can move.
My soul, what say you--still you love?
_Free._ Still!
My vow is up above me, and, like time,
Irrevocable: I am sworn all yours.
No beauty shall untwine our arms, no face 30
In my eyes can or shall seem fair;
And would to God only to me you might
Seem only fair! Let others disesteem
Your matchless graces, so might I safer seem;
Envy I covet not. Far, far be all ostent--
Vain boasts of beauties, soft joys, and the rest:
He that is wise pants on a private breast.
So could I live in desert most unknown,
Yourself to me enough were populous;[28]
Your eyes shall be my joys, my wine that still 40
Shall drown my often cares; your only voice
Shall cast a slumber on my list'ning sense;
You, with soft lip, shall only ope mine eyes
And suck their lids asunder; only you
Shall make me wish to live, and not fear death,
So on your cheeks I might yield latest breath.
O he that thus may live and thus shall die,
May well be envied of a deity.[29]
_Bea._ Dear, my loved heart, be not so passionate;
Nothing extreme lives long. 50
_Free._ But not to be extreme[30]--nothing in love's extreme--
My love receives no mean.
_Bea._ I give you faith; and, prithee, since, poor soul!
I am so easy to believe thee, make it much more pity to
deceive me!
Wear this slight favour in my remembrance.
[_Throweth down a ring to him._
_Free._ Which, when I part from,
Hope, the best of life, ever part from me.
_Bea._ I take you and your word, which may ever live
your servant. See, day is quite broke up--the best of
hours. 61
_Free._ Good morrow, graceful mistress: our nuptial
day holds.
_Bea._ With happy constancy a wishèd day.
[_Exit._
_Free._ Myself and all content rest with you.
_Enter_ MALHEUREUX.
_Mal._ The studious morn, with paler cheek, draws on
The day's bold light. Hark how the free-born birds
Carol their unaffected passions!
[_The nightingales sing._
Now sing they sonnets--thus they cry, We love!
O breath of heaven! thus they, harmless souls, 70
Give entertain to mutual affects.
They have no bawds, no mercenary beds,
No polite restraints, no artificial heats,
No faint dissemblings; no custom makes them blush,
No shame afflicts their name. O you happy beasts!
In whom an inborn heat is not held sin,
How far transcend you wretched, wretched man,
Whom national custom, tyrannous respects
Of slavish order, fetters, lames his power,
Calling that sin in us which in all things else 80
Is Nature's highest virtue.
_O miseri quorum gaudia crimen habent!_
Sure Nature against virtue cross doth fall,
Or virtue's self is oft unnatural.
That I should love a strumpet! I, a man of snow!
Now, shame forsake me--whither am I fallen!
A creature of a public use! my friend's love, too!
To live to be a talk to men--a shame
To my professed virtue! O accursed reason,
How many eyes hast thou to see thy shame, 90
And yet how blind once to prevent defame!
_Free._ _Diaboli virtus in lumbis est!_ Morrow, my
friend. Come, I could make a tedious scene of this
now; but what----Pah! thou art in love with a
courtezan! Why, sir, should we loathe all strumpets,
some men should hate their own mothers or sisters: a
sin against kind, I can tell you.
_Mal._ May it beseem a wise man to be in love?
_Free._ Let wise men alone, 'twill beseem thee and me
well enough. 100
_Mal._ Shall I not offend the vowe[d] band of our
friendship?
_Free._ What, to affect that which thy friend affected?
By Heaven, I resign her freely; the creature and I
must grow off; by this time she has assure[d]ly heard of
my resolved marriage, and no question swears "God's
sacrament, ten towsand divells." I'll resign, i'faith.
_Mal._ I would but embrace her, hear her speak, and
at the most, but kiss her.
_Free._ O friend, he that could live with the smoke of
roast-meat might live at a cheap rate! 111
_Mal._ I shall ne'er prove heartily received;
A kind of flat ungracious modesty,
An insufficient dulness stains my 'haviour.
_Free._ No matter, sir; insufficiency and sottishness
are much commendable in a most discommendable
action: now could I swallow thee, thou hadst wont to
be so harsh and cold: I'll tell thee,--hell and the prodigies
of angry Jove are not so fearful to a thinking mind
as a man without affection. Why, friend, philosophy
and nature are all one; love is the centre in which all
lines close, the common bond of being. 122
_Mal._ O but a chaste reservèd privateness,
A modest continence!
_Free._ I'll tell thee what, take this as firmest sense:--
Incontinence will force a continence;
Heat wasteth heat, light defaceth light,
Nothing is spoiled but by his proper might.
This is something too weighty for thy floor.
_Mal._ But howsoe'er you shade it, the world's eye 130
Shines hot and open on't;
Lying, malice, envy, are held but slidings,
Errors of rage, when custom and the world
Calls lust a crime spotted with blackest terrors.
_Free._ Where errors are held crimes, crimes are but errors.
Along, sir, to her; she's an arrant strumpet; and a
strumpet is a sarpego, venom'd gonorrhy to man--things
actually possessed [_Offers to go out, and suddenly
draws back_]--yet since thou art in love,--and again, as
good make use of a statue--a body without a soul, a carcass
three months dead--yet since thou art in love----
_Mal._ Death, man! my destiny I cannot choose. 142
_Free._ Nay, I hope so. Again, they sell but only flesh,
No jot affection; so that even in the enjoying,
_Absentem marmoreamque putes_.[31] Yet since you needs
must love----
_Mal._ Unavoidable, though folly--worse than madness!
_Free._ It's true; but since you needs must love, you
must know this,--
He that must love, a fool and he must kiss.
_Enter_ COCLEDEMOY.
Master Cocledemoy, _ut vales, Domine_! 150
_Coc._ _Ago tibi gratias_, my worshipful friend, how does
your friend?
_Free._ Out, you rascal!
_Coc._ Hang toasts, you are an ass; much o' your
worship's brain lies in your calves; bread o' god, boy, I
was at supper last night with a new-wean'd bulchin;
bread o' god, drunk, horribly drunk--horribly drunk!
there was a wench, one Frank Frailty, a punk, an honest
polecat, of a clean instep, sound leg, smooth thigh, and
the nimble devil in her buttock. Ah, feast o' grace!
when saw you, Tysefew, or Master Caqueteur, that
prattling gallant of a good draught, common customs,
fortunate impudence, and sound fart? 163
_Free._ Away, rogue!
_Coc._ Hang toasts, my fine boy, my companion as
worshipful.
_Mal._ Yes, I hear you are taken up with scholars and
churchmen.
_Enter_ HOLIFERNES _the barber_.
_Coc._ _Quanquam_[32] _te, Marce, fili_, my fine boy.
_Hol._ Does[33] your worship want a barber-surgeon? 170
_Free._ Farewell, knave; beware the Mulligrubs.
[_Exeunt_ FREEVILL _and_ MALHEREUX.
_Coc._ Let the Mulligrubs beware the knave. What, a
barber-surgeon, my delicate boy?
_Hol._ Yes, sir, an apprentice to surgery.
_Coc._[34] 'Tis, my fine boy. To what bawdy-house doth
your master belong? What's thy name?
_Hol._ Holifernes Reinscure.
_Coc._ Reinscure! Good Master Holifernes, I desire
your further acquaintance; nay, pray ye be covered,
my fine boy: kill thy itch, and heal thy scabs. Is thy
master rotten? 181
_Hol._ My father, forsooth, is dead----
_Coc._ _And laid in his grave.
Alas! what comfort shall Peggy then have!_[35]
_Hol._ None but me, sir; that's my mother's son, I
assure you.
_Coc._ Mother's son? A good witty boy, would live to
read an homily well: and to whom are you going now?
_Hol._ Marry, forsooth, to trim Master Mulligrub the
vintner. 190
_Coc._ Do you know Master Mulligrub?
_Hol._ My godfather, sir.
_Coc._ Good boy: hold up thy chops. I pray thee do
one thing for me: my name is Gudgeon.
_Hol._ Good Master Gudgeon.
_Coc._ Lend me thy basin, razor, and apron.
_Hol._ O Lord, sir![36]
_Coc._ Well spoken; good English. But what's thy
furniture worth?
_Hol._ O Lord, sir, I know not. 200
_Coc._ Well spoken; a boy of a good wit: hold this
pawn; where dost dwell?
_Hol._ At the sign of the Three Razors, sir.
_Coc._ A sign of good shaving, my catastrophonical fine
boy. I have an odd jest to trim Master Mulligrub, for
a wager; a jest, boy; a humour. I'll return thy things
presently. Hold!
_Hol._ What mean you, good Master Gudgeon?
_Coc._ Nothing, faith, but a jest, boy: drink that; I'll
recoil presently. 210
_Hol._ You'll not stay long.
_Coc._ As I am an honest man. The Three Razors?
_Hol._ Ay, sir.
[_Exit_ HOLIFERNES.
_Coc._ Good; and if I shave not Master Mulligrub, my
wit has no edge, and I may[37] go cack in my pewter. Let
me see,--a barber: my scurvy tongue will discover me:
must dissemble, must disguise; for my beard, my false
hair; for my tongue--Spanish, Dutch or Welsh--no, a
Northern barber; very good. Widow Reinscure's man,
well; newly entertain'd, right; so, hang toasts! all cards
have white backs, and all knaves would seem to have
white breasts: so proceed now, worshipful Cocledemoy.
[_Exit_ COCLEDEMOY, _in his barber's furniture_.
[28] "It is impossible to resist the idea that Marston was here
thinking of Shakespeare: 'Nor doth this wood lack worlds of
company. For you, in my respect, are all the
world.'"--_Halliwell._
[29] Ed. 1. "dietie,"--a recognised form of the word _deity_. See
the index to _Old Plays_, ed. Bullen, _sub_ DIETY.
[30] I suggest the following arrangement:--
"_Free._ _Be not extreme!_
Nothing in love's extreme, my love receives
No mean.
_Bea._ I give you faith, and prithee since,
Poor soul! I am so easy to believe thee,
Make it much more [a] pity to deceive me."
[31] Martial, xi. 60.
[32] The opening words of Cicero's _De Officiis_.
[33] "Does ... surgeon" given to Cocledemoy in the old eds.
[34] Not marked in old eds.
[35] On 26th September 1588 "A ballad intytuled _Peggies
Complaint for the Death of her Willye_" was entered in the
Stationers' Registers: I suppose that Cocledemoy is quoting from
this ballad. In _The Three Lords and Three Ladies of London,_
1590 (Hazlitt's _Dodsley_, vi. 393), the ballad of "Peggy and
Willy" is mentioned.
[36] See note 2, vol. i. p. 32.
[37] Omitted in ed. 2.
SCENE II.
_Franceschina's lodging._
_Enter_ MARY FAUGH, _and_ FRANCESCHINA _with her hair
loose, chafing_.
_Mar._ Nay, good sweet daughter, do not swagger so;
you hear your love is to be married, true; he does cast
you off, right; he will leave you to the world,--what then?
though blue and white, black and green, leave you, may
not red and yellow entertain you? is there but one
colour in the rainbow?
_Fra._ Grand grincome[38] on your sentences! God's
sacrament, ten towsand divels take you!--you ha'
brought mine love, mine honour, mine body, all to
noting! 10
_Mar._ To nothing! I'll be sworn I have brought them
to all the things I could; I ha' made as much o' your
maidenhead--and you had been mine own daughter, I
could not ha' sold your maidenhead oft'ner than I ha'
done. I ha' sworn for you, God forgive me! I have
made you acquainted with the Spaniard, Don Skirtoll,--with
the Italian, Messer Beieroane,--with the Irish lord,
S. Patrick,--with the Dutch merchant, Haunce Herkin
Glukin Skellam Flapdragon,--and specially with the
greatest French, and now lastly with this English, yet, in
my conscience, an honest gentleman. And am I now
grown one of the accursed with you for my labour? Is
this my reward? Am I call'd bawd? Well, Mary Faugh,
go thy ways, Mary Faugh; thy kind heart will bring thee
to the hospital. 25
_Fra._ Nay, good naunt, you'll help me to an oder love,
vil you not?
_Mar._ Out, thou naughty belly! wouldst thou make
me thy bawd?--thou'st best make me thy bawd. I ha'
kept counsel for thee: who paid the apothecary,--was't
not honest Mary Faugh? who redeem'd thy petticoat
and mantle,--was't not honest Mary Faugh? who helped
thee to thy custom,--not swaggering Ireland captains,
nor of two-shilling inns-o'-court men,--but with honest
flat-caps,[39] wealthy flat-caps, that pay for their pleasure
the best of any men in Europe, nay, which is more, in
London? And dost thou defy me, vile creature? 37
_Fra._ Foutra[40] pon you,--vitch, bawd, polecat,--paugh!
Did not you praise Freevill to mine love?
_Mar._ I did praise, I confess, I did praise him; I said
he was a fool, an unthrift, a true whoremaster, I confess;
a constant drab-keeper, I confess: but what, the wind is
turn'd!
_Fra._ It is, it is, vile woman!--reprobate woman!--naughty
woman! it is: vat sall become of mine poor
flesh now? mine body must turn Turk for twopence.
O Divela, life o' mine art! ick sall be reveng'd!--do ten
thousand hell damn me, ick sall have the rogue trote
cut! and his love, and his friend, and all his affinity, sall
smart! sall dye! sall hang! Now legion of devil seize
him!--de gran pest, St. Anthony's fire, and de hot
Neapolitan poc, rot him! 52
_Enter_ FREEVILL _and_ MALHEUREUX.
_Free._ Franceschina!
_Fra._ O mine seet, dear'st, kindest, mine loving! O
mine towsand, ten towsand, delicated, petty[41] seet art!
[_Cantat Gallicè._
A[h] mine, a[h] dear leevest affection!
_Free._ Why, monkey, no fashion in you! Give entertain
to my friend.
_Fra._ Ick sall make de most of you dat courtesy may.
Aunt Mary, Mettre Faugh, stools, stools, for des gallants!
_Mine mettre sing non oder song_,[42]--frolic, frolic, sir!-- 61
_but still complain me do her wrong_. Lighten your heart,
sir; for _me did but kiss her_,--for me did but kiss her--and
_so let go_. Your friend is very heavy; ick sall ne'er
like such sad company.
_Free._ No, thou delightest only in light company.
_Fra._ By mine trot, he been very sad; vat ail you, sir?
_Mal._ A tooth-ache, lady, a paltry rheum.
_Fra._ De diet is very goot for de rheum.
_Free._ How far off dwells the house-surgeon, Mary
Faugh? 71
_Mar._ You are a profane fellow, i'faith; I little thought
to hear such ungodly terms come from your lips.
_Fra._ Pre de now, 'tis but a toy, a very trifle.
_Free._ I care not for the value, Frank, but i'faith----
_Fra._ I'fait, me must needs have it (dis is Beatrice'
ring, oh could I get it!); seet, pre de now, as ever you
have embraced me with a hearty arm, a warm thought,
or a pleasing touch, as ever you will profess to love me,
as ever you do wish me life, give me dis ring, dis little
ring. 81
_Free._ Prithee be not uncivilly importunate; sha' not
ha't; faith, I care not for thee, nor thy jealousy; sha'
not ha't, i'faith.
_Fra._ You do not love me. I hear of Sir Hubert
Subboys' daughter, Mistress Beatrice. God's sacrament,
ick could scratch out her eyes, and suck the holes!
_Free._ Go; y' are grown a punk rampant!
_Fran._ So, get thee gone; ne'er more behold min eyes,
by thee made wretched! 90
_Free._ Mary Faugh, farewell!--farewell, Frank!
_Fra._ Sall I not ha' de ring?
_Free._ No, by the Lord!
_Fra._ By te Lord?
_Free._ By the Lord!
_Fra._ Go to your new blouze,--your unproved sluttery,--your
modest mettre, forsooth!
_Free._ Marry, will I, forsooth!
_Fra._ Will you marry, forsooth?
_Free._ Do not turn witch before thy time.-- 100
With all my heart, sir, you will stay.
_Mal._ I am no whit myself. _Video meliora proboque_,
But raging lust my fate all strong doth move;
The gods themselves cannot be wise and love.
_Free._ Your wishes to you!
[_Exit_ FREEVILL.
_Mal._ Beauty entirely choice--
_Fra._ Pray ye prove a man of fashion, and neglect
the neglected.
_Mal._ Can such a rarity be neglected?--can there be
measure or sin in loving such a creature?
_Fra._ O min poor forsaken heart! 110
_Mal._ I cannot contain,--he saw thee not that left thee.
If there be wisdom, reason, honour, grace,
Of any foolishly-esteemèd virtue,
In giving o'er possession of such beauty,
Let me be vicious, so I may be loved.
Passion, I am thy slave; sweet, it shall be my grace,
That I account thy love my only virtue:
Shall I swear I am thy most vowèd servant?
_Fra._ Mine vowed? Go! go! go! I cannot more of
love. No! no! no! You bin all unconstant. O unfaithful
men--tyrants--betrayers--de very enjoying us loseth
us; and when you only ha' made us hateful, you only
hate us. O mine forsaken heart! 123
_Mal._ I must not rave. Silence and modesty two
customary virtues. Will you be my mistress?
_Fra._ Mettres? Ha! ha! ha!
_Mal._ Will you lie with me?
_Fra._ Lie with you? O no; you men will out-lie any
woman; fait, me no more can love.
_Mal._ No matter, let me enjoy your bed. 130
_Fra._ O! vile man, vat do you tinck on me? Do you
take me to be a beast--a creature that for sense only
will entertain love, and not only for love--love? O!
brutish abomination!
_Mal._ Why, then I pray thee love, and with thy love
enjoy me----
_Fra._ Give me reason to affect you. Will you swear
you love me?
_Mal._ So seriously, that I protest no office so dangerous--no
deed so unreasonable--no cost so heavy, but I vow
to the utmost tentation of my best being to effect it. 141
_Fra._ Sall I, or can I trust again? O fool!
How natural 'tis for us to be abused!
Sall ick be sure that no satiety,
No enjoying,
Not time shall languish your affection?
_Mal._ If there be ought in brain, heart, or hand,
Can make you doubtless, I am your vow'd servant.
_Fra._ Will you do one ting for me?
_Mal._ Can I do it? 150
_Fra._ Yes, yes; but ick do not love dis same Freevill.
_Mal._ Well?
_Fra._ Nay, I do hate him.
_Mal._ So.
_Fra._ By this kiss I hate him.
_Mal._ I love to feel such oaths; swear again.
_Fra._ No, no. Did you ever hear of any that loved at
the first sight?
_Mal._ A thing most proper.
_Fra._ Now fait, I judge it all incredible until this hour
I saw you: pretty fair-eyed yout, would you enjoy
me? 162
_Mal._ Rather than my breath, even as my being.
_Fra._ Vel! had ick not made a vow----
_Mal._ What vow?
_Fra._ O let me forget it; it makes us both despair!
_Mal._ Dear soul, what vow?
_Fra._ Ha, good morrow, gentle sir; endeavour to forget
me, as I must be enforced to forget all men. Sweet
mind rest in you. 170
_Mal._ Stay, let not thy desire burst me. O my
impatient heat endures no resistance--no protraction!
there is no being for me but your sudden enjoying.
_Fra._ I do not love Freevill.
_Mal._ But what vow? what vow?
_Fra._ So long as Freevill lives, I must not love.
_Mal._ Then he--
_Fra._ Must--
_Mal._ Die!
_Fra._ I [k]no[w] there is no such vehemence in your affects. 180
Would I were anything, so he were not!
_Mal._ Will you be mine when he is not?
_Fra._ Will I? Dear, dear breast, by this most zealous
kiss! but I will not persuade you; but if you hate him
that I loathe most deadly; yet as you please--I'll
persuade noting.
_Mal._ Will you be only mine?
_Fra._ Vill I? How hard 'tis for true love to dissemble.
I am only yours.
_Mal._ 'Tis as irrevocable as breath: he dies. 190
Your love!
_Fra._ My vow,--not until he be dead;
Which that I may be sure not to infringe,
Dis token of his death sall satisfy:
He has a ring, as dear as the air to him,
His new love's gift; tat got and brought to me,
I shall assurèd your professèd rest.
_Mal._ To kill a man?
_Fra._ O! done safely; a quarrel sudden pick'd,
With an advantage strike--then bribe--a little coin,
All's safe, dear soul; but I'll not set you on. 200
_Mal._ Nay, he is gone--the ring! Well, come, little
more liberal of thy love.
_Fra._ Not yet; my vow.
_Mal._ O Heaven! there is no hell but love's prolongings.
Dear, farewell.
_Fra._ Farewell.
Now does my heart swell high, for my revenge
Has birth and form; first friend sall kill his friend.
He dat survives I'll hang; besides de chaste
Beatrice I'll vex. Only de ring; 210
Dat got, the world sall know the worst of evils:
Woman corrupted is the worst of devils.
[_Exit_ FRANCESCHINA.
_Mal._ To kill my friend! O 'tis to kill myself!
Yet man's but man's excrement--man breeding man
As he does worms; or this, to spoil this nothing.
[_He spits._
The body of a man is of the self-same mould[43]
As ox or horse; no murder to kill these.
As for that only part which makes us man,
Murder wants power to touch't. O wit, how vile!
How hellish art thou, when thou raisest nature 220
'Gainst sacred faith! Think more: to kill a friend
To gain a woman! to lose a virtuous self
For appetite and sensual end, whose very having
Loseth all appetite, and gives satiety!
That corporal end, remorse and inward blushings,
Forcing us loathe the steam of our own heats;
Whilst friendship closed in virtue, being spiritual,
Tastes no such languishings, and moments' pleasure
With much repentance; but like rivers flow,
And further that they run they bigger grow. 230
Lord, how was I misgone! how easy 'tis to err,
When passion will not give us leave to think!
A learn'd, that is an honest man, may fear,
And lust, and rage, and malice,[44] and anything,
When he is taken uncollected suddenly:
'Tis sin of cold blood, mischief with waked eyes,
That is the damnèd and the truly[45] vice;
Not he that's passionless, but he 'bove passion's wise.
My friend shall know it all.
[_Exit._
[38] "Grand grincome"--the pox.
[39] A nickname for citizens. (Ed. 1. "atte-cappes;" ed. 2.
"art-caps.")
[40] A contemptuous exclamation.
[41] So ed. 1.--Ed. 2. "pretty."
[42] From a song in Robert Jones's _First Book of Songs and Airs_
[1601]:
"My mistress sings no other song
But still complains I did her wrong:
Believe her not, it is not so,
I did but kiss her and let her go," &c.
[43] Old eds. "soule."
[44] The verb _malice_ is not uncommon. It is used by Spenser,
Marlowe, Ben Jonson, &c.
[45] So ed. 1.--Ed. 2. "truest."
SCENE III.
_A Tavern._
_Enter_ Master MULLIGRUB _and_ Mistress MULLIGRUB,
_she with a bag of money_.
_Mistress Mul._ It is right, I assure you, just fifteen
pounds.
_Mul._ Well, Cocledemoy, 'tis thou putt'st me to this
charge; but, and I catch thee, I'll charge thee with as
many irons. Well, is the barber come? I'll be trimm'd,
and then to Cheapside to buy a fair piece of plate, to
furnish the loss. Is the barber come?
_Mistress Mul._ Truth, husband, surely heaven is not
pleased with our vocation. We do wink at the sins of
our people. Our wines are protestants; and I speak
it to my grief, and to the burthen of my conscience, we
fry our fish with salt butter. 12
_Mul._ Go, look to your business; mend the matter,
and score false with a vengeance.
[_Exit_ Mistress MULLIGRUB.
_Enter_ COCLEDEMOY _like a barber_.
Welcome, friend, whose man?
_Coc._ Widow Reinscure's man; and shall please your
good worship, my name's Andrew Shark.
_Mul._ How does my godson, good Andrew?
_Coc._ Very well, he's gone to trim Master Quicquid,
our parson. Hold up your head. 20
_Mul._ How long have you been a barber, Andrew?
_Coc._ Not long, sir; this two year.
_Mul._ What! and a good workman already. I dare
scarce trust my head to thee.
_Coc._ O, fear not; we ha' poll'd better men than you;
we learn the trade very quickly. Will your good worship
be shaven or cut?
_Mul._ As you will. What trade didst live by before
thou turnedst barber, Andrew?
_Coc._ I was a pedlar in Germany; but my countrymen
thrive better by this trade. 31
_Mul._ What's the news, barber? thou art sometimes at
court.
_Coc._ Sometimes poll a page or so, sir.
_Mul._ And what's the news? How do all my good
lords and all my good ladies, and all the rest of my
acquaintance?
_Coc._ What an arrogant knave's this! I'll acquaintance
ye! 'Tis cash!--[_He spieth the bag._]--Say ye, sir?
_Mul._ And what news--what news, good Andrew? 40
_Coc._ Marry, sir, you know the Conduit at Greenwich,
and the under-holes that spouts up water?
_Mul._ Very well; I was wash'd there one day, and so
was my wife--you might have wrung her smock, i'faith!
But what o' those holes?
_Coc._ Thus, sir. Out of those little holes, in the midst
of the night, crawl'd out twenty-four huge, horrible, monstrous,
fearful, devouring----
_Mul._ Bless us! 49
_Coc._ Serpents, which no sooner were beheld, but they
turn'd to mastiffs, which howl'd; those mastiffs instantly
turn'd to cocks, which crowed; those cocks, in a moment,
were changed to bears, which roar'd; which bears are at
this hour to be yet seen in Paris Garden, living upon
nothing but toasted cheese and green onions.
_Mul._ By the Lord! and this may be, my wife and I
will go see them. This portends something.
_Coc._ [_aside._] Yes, worshipful fist,[46] thou'st feel what
portends by and by. 59
_Mul._ And what more news? You shave the world--especially
you barber-surgeons--you know the ground of
many things. You are cunning privy searchers: by the
mass, you scour all. What more news?
_Coc._ They say, sir, that twenty-five couple of Spanish
jennets are to be seen, hand in hand, dance the old
measures,[47] whilst six goodly Flaunders mares play to
them on a noise[48] of flutes.
_Mul._ O monstrous! this is a lie o' my word. Nay,
and this be not a lie--I am no fool, I warrant--nay,
make an ass of me once? 70
_Coc._ Shut your eyes close--wink; sure, sir, this ball
will make you smart.
_Mul._ I do wink.
_Coc._ Your head will take cold;
[COCLEDEMOY _puts on a coxcomb on_ MULLIGRUB'S _head_.]
I will put on your good worship's nightcap whilst I
shave you. So, mum, hang toasts! Faugh, _via!_[49] sparrows
must peck and Cocledemoy munch. 77
_Mul._ Ha, ha, ha! Twenty-five couple of Spanish
jennets to dance the old measures. Andrew makes my
worship laugh, i'faith. Dost take me for an ass, Andrew?--dost
know one Cocledemoy in town? He made me an
ass last night, but I'll ass him! Art thou free, Andrew?
Shave me well--I shall be one of the common council
shortly--and then, Andrew--why, Andrew, Andrew,
dost leave me in the suds?
CANTAT.
Why, Andrew, I shall be blind with winking. Ha!
Andrew--wife--Andrew, what means this? Wife!--my
money, wife! 88
_Enter_ Mistress MULLIGRUB.
_Mistress Mul._ What's the noise with you? What ail
you?
_Mul._ Where's the barber?
_Mistress Mul._ Gone. I saw him depart long since.
Why, are not you trimm'd?
_Mul._ Trimm'd! O wife! I am shaved. Did you
take hence the money?
_Mistress Mul._ I touch'd it not, as I am religious.
_Mul._ O Lord! I have wink'd fair.
_Enter_ HOLIFERNES.
_Hol._ I pray, godfather, give me your blessing.
_Mul._ O Holifernes--O where's thy mother's Andrew? 100
_Hol._ Blessing, godfather!
_Mul._ The devil choke thee! where's Andrew, thy
mother's man?
_Hol._ My mother hath none such, forsooth.
_Mul._ My money--fifteen pounds--plague of all Andrews!
who was't trimm'd me?
_Hol._ I know not, godfather; only one met me, as I
was coming to you, and borrowed my furniture, as he
said, for a jest' sake.
_Mul._ What kind of fellow? 110
_Hol._ A thick, elderly, stub-bearded fellow.
_Mul._ Cocledemoy, Cocledemoy! Raise all the wise
men in the street! I'll hang him with mine own hands!
O wife! some _rosa solis_.[50]
_Mistress Mul._ Good husband, take comfort in the
Lord; I'll play the devil, but I'll recover it. Have a
good conscience, 'tis but a week's cutting[51] in the term!
_Mul._ O, wife! O, wife! O, Jack! how does thy
mother? Is there any fiddlers in the house?
_Mistress Mul._ Yes, Master Creak's[52] noise? 120
_Mul._ Bid 'em play, laugh, make merry; cast up my
accounts, for I'll go hang myself presently. I will not
curse, but a pox on Cocledemoy; he has poll'd and
shaved me, he has trimm'd me!
[_Exeunt._
[46] Old eds. "fiest." _Fist_ is a term of contempt (= fister,
stinkard). "_Vessifier_, to breed a _fyste_, to make breake wind
or let a fyste."--_Cotgrave._
[47] A grave stately dance.
[48] _Noise_ in old writers usually means a company of musicians.
[49] See note, p. 20. [Transcriber's Note: Footnote [27]]
[50] A cordial.
[51] Mistress Mulligrub consoles her husband with the thought
that in one week of term-time the fifteen pounds may be recovered
by help of a little _sharping_ (in the way of adulterating the
liquors, frothing the cans, &c.).
[52] So in _2 Henry IV._ we have a mention of "Sneak's noise."
ACT III.
SCENE I.
_Room in_ Sir HUBERT SUBBOYS' _house_.
_Enter_ BEATRICE, CRISPINELLA _and_ Nurse PUTIFER.
_Put._ Nay, good child o' love, once more Master Freevill's
sonnet o' the kiss you gave him.
_Bea._ Sha't, good nurse:
[_Sings._
_Purest lips, soft banks of blisses,
Self alone deserving kisses;
O give me leave to_, &c.
_Cri._ Pish! sister Beatrice, prithee read no more; my
stomach o' late stands against kissing extremely.
_Bea._ Why, good Crispinella? 9
_Cri._ By the faith and trust I bear to my face, 'tis
grown one of the most unsavoury ceremonies: body
o' beauty! 'tis one of the most unpleasing injurious
customs to ladies: any fellow that has but one nose on
his face, and standing collar and skirts also lined with
taffety sarcenet, must salute us on the lips as familiarly--Soft
skins save us! there was a stub-bearded John-a-Stile
with a ployden's face saluted me last day and struck his
bristles through my lips; I ha' spent ten shillings in
pomatum since to skin them again. Marry, if a nobleman
or a knight with one lock visit us, though his unclean
goose-turd-green[53] teeth ha' the palsy, his nostrils smell
worse than a putrified marrowbone, and his loose beard
drops into our bosom, yet we must kiss him with a cursy,
a curse! for my part, I had as lieve they would break
wind in my lips. 25
_Bea._ Fie, Crispinella, you speak too broad.
_Cri._ No jot, sister; let's ne'er be ashamed to speak
what we be not ashamed to think: I dare as boldly
speak venery as think venery.
_Bea._ Faith, sister! I'll begone if you speak so broad.
_Cri._ Will you so? Now bashfulness seize you, we
pronounce boldly, robbery, murder, treason, which
deeds must needs be far more loathsome than an act
which is so natural, just, and necessary, as that of procreation;
you shall have an hypocritical vestal virgin
speak that with close teeth publicly, which she will
receive with open mouth privately; for my own part, I
consider nature without apparel; without disguising of
custom or compliment, I give thoughts words, and
words truth, and truth boldness; she whose honest
freeness makes it her virtue to speak what she thinks
will make it her necessity to think what is good. I love
no prohibited things, and yet I would have nothing
prohibited by policy, but by virtue; for as in the fashion
of time those books that are call'd in are most in sale
and request,[54] so in nature those actions that are most
prohibited are most desired. 47
_Bea._ Good quick sister, stay your pace; we are
private, but the world would censure you, for truly
severe modesty is women's virtue.
_Cri._ Fie, fie! virtue is a free, pleasant, buxom quality.
I love a constant countenance well; but this froward
ignorant coyness, sour austere lumpish uncivil privateness,
that promises nothing but rough skins and
hard stools; ha! fie on't, good for nothing but for
nothing. Well, nurse, and what do you conceive of
all this? 57
_Put._ Nay, faith, my conceiving days be done. Marry
for kissing, I'll defend that; that's within my compass;
but for my own part, here's Mistress Beatrice is to be
married with the grace of God; a fine gentleman he is
shall have her, and I warrant a strong; he has a leg like
a post, a nose like a lion, a brow like a bull, and a
beard of most fair expectation: this week you must
marry him, and I now will read a lecture to you both,
how you shall behave yourselves to your husbands the
first month of your nuptial; I ha' broke my skull about
it, I can tell you, and there is much brain in it.
_Cri._ Read it to my sister, good nurse, for I assure
you I'll ne'er marry. 70
_Put._ Marry, God forfend, what will you do then?
_Cri._ Faith, strive against the flesh. Marry! no,
faith, husbands are like lots in the lottery: you may
draw forty blanks before you find one that has any prize
in him. A husband generally is a careless, domineering
thing, that grows like coral, which as long as it is under
water is soft and tender, but as soon as it has got his
branch above the waves is presently hard, stiff, not to be
bowed but burst; so when your husband is a suitor and
under your choice, Lord how supple he is, how obsequious,
how at your service, sweet lady! Once married,
got up his head above, a stiff, crooked, nobby, inflexible
tyrannous creature he grows; then they turn like water,
more you would embrace the less you hold. I'll live
my own woman, and if the worst come to the worst, I
had rather prove a wag than a fool. 86
_Bea._ O, but a virtuous marriage.
_Cri._ Virtuous marriage! there is no more affinity
betwixt virtue and marriage than betwixt a man and his
horse; indeed virtue gets up upon marriage sometimes,
and manageth it in the right way; but marriage is of
another piece, for as a horse may be without a man, and
a man without a horse, so marriage, you know, is often
without virtue, and virtue, I am sure, more oft without
marriage. But thy match, sister--by my troth I think
'twill do well; he's a well-shaped, clean-lipp'd gentleman,
of a handsome, but not affected, fineness, a good
faithful eye, and a well-humour'd cheek; would he did
not stoop in the shoulders, for thy sake. See, here he is.
_Enter_ FREEVILL _and_ TYSEFEW.
_Free._ Good day, sweet! 100
_Cri._ Good morrow, brother! nay, you shall have my
lip. Good morrow, servant!
_Tyse._ Good morrow, sweet life!
_Cri._ Life! dost call thy mistress life?
_Tyse._ Life! yes, why not life?
_Cri._ How many mistresses hast thou?
_Tyse._ Some nine.
_Cri._ Why then thou hast nine lives, like a cat.
_Tyse._ Mew, you would be taken up for that. 109
_Cri._ Nay, good, let me still sit; we low statures love
still to sit, lest when we stand we may be supposed to
sit.
_Tyse._ Dost not wear high cork shoes--chopines?[55]
_Cri._ Monstrous ones: I am, as many other are,
pieced above and pieced beneath.
_Tyse._ Still the best part in the----
_Cri._ And yet all will scarce make me so high as one
of the giants'[56] stilts that stalks before my Lord Mayor's
pageant:
_Tyse._ By the Lord, so I thought 'twas for something
Mistress Joyce jested at thy high insteps. 121
_Cri._ She might well enough, and long enough, before
I would be ashamed of my shortness: what I made or
can mend myself I may blush at; but what nature put
upon me, let her be ashamed for me, I ha' nothing to do
with it. I forget my beauty.
_Tyse._ Faith, Joyce is a foolish bitter creature.
_Cri._ A pretty mildewed wench she is.
_Tyse._ And fair----
_Cri._ As myself! 130
_Tyse._ O you forget your beauty now.
_Cri._ Troth, I never remember my beauty, but as some
men do religion,--for controversy's sake.
_Bea._ A motion,[57] sister.
_Cri._ Nineveh,[58] Julius Cæsar, Jonas, or the destruction
of Jerusalem.
_Bea._ My love, hear.
_Cri._ Prithee call him not love, 'tis the drab's phrase:
nor sweet honey, nor my coney, nor dear duckling,
they[59] are citizen terms, but call him---- 140
_Bea._ What?
_Cri._ Anything.--What's the motion?
_Bea._ You know this night our parents have intended
solemnly to contract us, and my love, to grace the feast,
hath promised a masque.
_Free._ You'll make one, Tysefew, and Caqueteur shall
fill up a room.
_Tyse._ 'Fore heaven, well-remember'd; he borrowed a
diamond of me last night to grace his finger in your
visitation. The lying creature will swear some strange
thing on it now. 151
_Enter_ CAQUETEUR.
_Cri._ Peace, he's here; stand close, lurk.
_Caq._ Good morrow, most dear, and worthy to be
most wise. How does my mistress?
_Cri._ Morrow, sweet servant; you glister,--prithee,
let's see that stone.
_Caq._ A toy, lady, I bought to please my finger.
_Cri._ Why, I am more precious to you than your
finger.
_Caq._ Yes, or than all my body, I swear. 160
_Cri._ Why, then let it be bought to please me; come,
I am no professed beggar.
_Caq._ Troth, mistress! Zoons! Forsooth, I protest!
_Cri._ Nay, if you turn Protestant for such a toy.
_Caq._ In good deed, la; another time I'll give you
a----
_Cri._ Is this yours to give?
_Caq._ O God! forsooth mine, quoth you; nay, as for
that---- 170
_Cri._ Now I remember, I ha' seen this on my servant
Tysefew's finger.
_Caq._ Such another.
_Cri._ Nay, I am sure this is it.
_Caq._ Troth, 'tis forsooth. The poor fellow wanted
money to pay for supper last night, and so pawn'd it to
me; 'tis a pawn, i'faith, or else you should have it.
_Tyse._ Hark ye, thou base lying--How dares thy impudence
hope to prosper? Were't not for the privilege
of this respected company, I would so bang thee. 180
_Cri._ Come hither, servant. What's the matter betwixt
you two?
_Caq._ Nothing; but hark you, he did me some uncivil
discourtesies last night; for which, because I should not
call him to account, he desires to make me any satisfaction.
The coward trembles at my very presence;
but I ha' him on the hip; I'll take the forfeit on his
ring.
_Tyse._ What's that you whisper to her? 189
_Caq._ Nothing, sir; but satisfy her that the ring was
not pawn'd, but only lent by you to grace my finger;
and so told her I craved pardon for being too familiar,
or indeed over-bold with your reputation.
_Cri._ Yes, indeed, he did. He said you desired to
make him any satisfaction for an uncivil discourtesy you
did him last night; but he said he had you o' the hip,
and would take the forfeit of your ring.
_Tyse._ How now, ye base poltroon.
_Caq._ Hold! hold! my mistress speaks by contraries.
_Tyse._ Contraries! 200
_Caq._ She jests--faith, only jests.
_Cri._ Sir, I'll no more o' your service--you are a child--I'll
give you to my nurse.
_Put._ And he come to me, I can tell you, as old as I
am, what to do with him.
_Caq._ I offer my service, forsooth.
_Tyse._ Why, so: now, every dog has his bone to
gnaw on.
_Free._ The masque holds, Master Caqueteur.
_Caq._ I am ready, sir. Mistress, I'll dance with you,
ne'er fear--I'll grace you. 211
_Put._ I tell you, I can my singles and my doubles, and
my trick o' twenty[60]--my carantapace--my traverse forward--and
my falling back, yet, i'faith.
_Bea._ Mine! The provision for the night is ours.
Much must be our care; till night we leave you;
I am your servant, be not tyrannous.
Your virtue won me; faith, my love's not lust;
Good, wrong me not; my most fault is much trust.
_Free._ Until night only, my heart be with you. Farewell,
sister. 221
_Cri._ Adieu, brother. Come on, sister, for these
sweetmeats.
_Free._ Let's meet and practise presently.
_Tyse._ Content; we'll but fit our pumps. Come, ye
pernicious vermin.
[_Exeunt all but_ FREEVILL.
_Enter_ MALHEUREUX.
_Free._ My friend, wished hours! What news from Babylon?
How does the woman of sin and natural concupiscence?
_Mal._ The eldest child of nature ne'er beheld
So damn'd a creature. 230
_Free._ What! _In nova fert animus mutatas dicere formas?_
Which way bears the tide?
_Mal._ Dear loved sir, I find a mind courageously
vicious may be put on a desperate security; but can
never be blessed with a firm enjoying and self-satisfaction.
_Free._ What passion is this, my dear Lindabrides?[61]
_Mal._ 'Tis well; we both may jest; I ha' been tempted
to your death.
_Free._ What, is the rampant cocatrice grown mad for
the loss of her men? 241
_Mal._ Devilishly mad.
_Free._ As most assured of my second love?
_Mal._ Right.
_Free._ She would have had this ring.
_Mal._ Ay, and this heart; and in true proof you were
slain, I should bring her this ring, from which she was
assured
You would not part until from life you parted;
For which deed, and only for which deed, I should
possess her sweetness. 251
_Free._ O! bloody villains! Nothing is defamed but
by his proper self. Physicians abuse remedies; lawyers
spoil the law; and women only shame women. You
ha' vow'd my death?
_Mal._ My lust, not I, before my reason would; yet I
must use her. That I, a man of sense, should conceive
endless pleasure in a body whose soul I know to be so
hideously black! 259
_Free._ That a man at twenty-three should cry, O sweet
pleasure! and at forty-three should sigh, O sharp pox!
But consider man furnished with omnipotence, and you
overthrow him; thou must cool thy impatient appetite.
'Tis fate, 'tis fate!
_Mal._ I do malign my creation that I am subject to
passion. I must enjoy her.
_Free._ I have it, mark. I give a masque to-night
To my love's kindred; in that thou shalt go.
In that we two make show of falling out.
Give seeming challenge--instantly depart, 270
With some suspicion to present fight.
We will be seen as going to our swords;
And after meeting, this ring only lent,
I'll lurk in some obscure place, till rumour
(The common bawd to loose suspicions)
Have feign'd me slain, which (in respect myself
Will not be found, and our late seeming quarrel)
Will quickly sound to all as earnest truth.
Then to thy wench; protest me surely dead;
Show her this ring, enjoy her, and, blood cold, 280
We'll laugh at folly.
_Mal._ O but think of it!
_Free._ Think of it! come away; virtue, let sleep thy passions;
What old times held as crimes, are now but fashions.
[_Exeunt._
[53] Old eds. "goose-_turnd_-greene."--"Merde oye. A
_Goose-turd-greene_."--_Cotgrave._
[54] Tacitus has the same sensible observation about prohibited
books:--"Convictum Veientonem Italia depulit [Nero] et libros
exuri jussit, _conquisitos lectitatosque, donec cum periculo
parabantur: mox licentia habendi oblivionem attulit_."--_Ann._,
xiv. 50. But in these days of "anthropological" research a public
censor of morals might to the advantage of the community be
allowed to exercise authority. Discretion, of course, would have
to be used; otherwise this edition of Marston might be called in;
_absit omen!_
[55] See Dyce's _Shakesp. Glossary_.
[56] For information about the city-giants see Fairholt's
excellent _History of Lord Mayors' Pageants_, p. 76 (Percy
Society).
[57] Proposal, scheme.
[58] Nineveh was one of the most famous of the _motions_ (_i.e._,
puppet-shows); Julius Cæsar was also a favourite (see Middleton,
viii. 95-6). Ben Jonson alludes to the motion of "Jonas and the
Whale" in _Every Man out of his Humour_. In Jonson's _Bartholomew
Fair_, v. 1, there is a mention of the motion of Jerusalem:--"O
the motions that I, Lanthorn Leatherhead, have given light to, in
my time, since my master Pod died! Jerusalem was a stately thing,
and so was Nineveh," &c.
[59] So ed. 2.--Ed. 1. "'tis the."
[60] See note, vol. i. p. 276.
[61] A character in the romance of _The Mirror of Chivalry_ (see
note, vol. i. p. 30).
SCENE II.
_House of_ Master BURNISH, _the jeweller_.
_Enter_ Master BURNISH[62] _and_ LIONEL. Master MULLIGRUB, _with a
standing cup in his hand, and an obligation[63] in the other_.
COCLEDEMOY _stands at the other door, disguised like a French
pedlar, and overhears them_.
_Mul._ I am not at this time furnish'd; but there's my
bond for your plate.
_Bur._ Your bill had been sufficient: y'are a good[64]
man. A standing cup parcel-gilt[65] of thirty-two ounces,
eleven pounds seven shillings, the first of July. Good
plate--good man--good day--good all.
_Mul._ 'Tis my hard fortune; I will hang the knave.
No, first he shall half rot in fetters in the dungeon--his
conscience made despairful. I'll hire a knave o' purpose--shall
assure him he is damn'd; and after see him with
mine own eyes, hang'd without singing any psalm. Lord,
that he has but one neck! 12
_Bur._ You are too tyrannous;--you'll use me no
further?
_Mul._ No, sir; lend me your servant, only to carry the
plate home. I have occasion of an hour's absence.
_Bur._ With easy consent, sir.--Haste and be careful.
[_Exit_ BURNISH.
_Mul._ Be very careful, I pray thee,--to my wife's own
hands.
_Lio._ Secure yourself, sir. 20
_Mul._ To her own hand!
_Lio._ Fear not, I have delivered greater things than
this to a woman's own hand.
_Coc._ Mounsier, please you to buy a fine delicate ball,
sweet ball--a camphor ball?
_Mul._ Prithee, away!
[_Exit_ LIONEL.
_Coc._ Wun'[66] a ball to scour--a scouring ball--a ball to
be shaved!
_Mul._ For the love of God! talk not of shaving. I
have been shaved--mischief and a thousand devils seize
him!--I have been shaved! 31
[_Exit_ MULLIGRUB.
_Coc._ The fox grows fat when he is cursed--I'll shave
ye smoother yet. Turd on a tile stone! my lips have a
kind of rheum at this bole. I'll have't--I'll gargalise
my throat with this vintner, and when I have done with
him, spit him out. I'll shark! Conscience does not
repine. Were I to bite an honest gentleman, a poor
grogaran poet, or a penurious parson that had but ten
pigs' tails in a twelvemonth, and, for want of learning, had
but one good stool in a fortnight, I were damn'd beyond
the works of supererogation; but to wring the withers of
my gouty-barm'd spiggod-frigging jumbler of elements,
Mulligrub, I hold it as lawful as sheep-shearing, taking
eggs from hens, caudles from asses, or butter'd shrimps
from horses--they make no use of them, were not provided
for them. And, therefore, worshipful Cocledemoy,
hang toasts! On, in grace and virtue to proceed,
only beware, beware degrees. There be rounds in a
ladder, and knots in a halter; ware carts, hang toasts,
the common council has decreed it! I must draw a lot
for the great goblet. 51
[_Exit._
[62] Old eds. "Garnish."
[63] Bond.
[64] Mulligrub is _good_ as Antonio was _good_ in Shylock's eyes:--"My
meaning in saying he is a _good_ man is to have you understand that he is
sufficient."
[65] Partly gilt,--with part of the work gilt and part left ungilded.
[66] _i.e._, want.--Old eds. "One."
SCENE III.
_A Tavern._
_Enter_ Mistress MULLIGRUB, _and_ LIONEL _with a goblet_.
_Mistress Mul._ Nay, I pray you, stay and drink; and
how does your mistress? I know her very well--I have
been inward with her, and so has many more. She was
ever a good, patient creature, i'faith! With all my
heart, I'll remember your master, an honest man. He
knew me before I was married! An honest man he is,
and a crafty. He comes forward in the world well, I
warrant him; and his wife is a proper woman, that she
is. Well, she has been as proper a woman as any in
Cheap. She paints now, and yet she keeps her husband's
old customers to him still. In troth, a fine-faced
wife, in a wainscot-carved seat,[67] is a worthy ornament
to a tradesman's shop, and an attractive, I warrant; her
husband shall find it in the custom of his ware, I'll
assure him. God be with you, good youth; I acknowledge
the receipt. [_Exit_ LIONEL.] I acknowledge all the
receipt--sure, 'tis very well spoken--I acknowledge the
receipt. Thus 'tis to have good education, and to be
brought up in a tavern. I do keep as gallant and as
good company, though I say it, as any she in London.
Squires, gentlemen, and knights diet at my table, and I
do lend some of them money; and full many fine men
go upon my score, as simple as I stand here, and I trust
them; and truly they very knightly and courtly promise
fair, give me very good words, and a piece of flesh when
time of year serves. Nay, though my husband be a
citizen, and's cap's made of wool,[68] yet I ha' wit, and
can see my good as soon as another, for I have all the
thanks; my silly husband, alas! he knows nothing of
it; 'tis I that bear--'tis I that must bear a brain[69] for all.
_Enter_ COCLEDEMOY.
_Coc._ Fair hour to you, mistress! 31
_Mistress Mul._ Fair hour!--fine term!--faith, I'll score
it up anon.--A beautiful thought to you, sir.
_Coc._ Your husband, and my master, Mr. Burnish,[70]
has sent you a jole of fresh salmon, and they both will
come to dinner to season your new cup with the best
wine, which cup your husband entreats you to send back
by me, that his arms may be graved a' the side, which
he forgot before it was sent.
_Mistress Mul._ By what token are you sent?--by no
token? Nay, I have wit. 41
_Coc._ He sent me by the same token, that he was dry
shaved this morning.
_Mistress Mul._ A sad token, but true. Here, sir, I
pray you commend me to your master, but especially to
your mistress. Tell them they shall be most sincerely
welcome.
[_Exit._
_Coc._ Shall be most sincerely welcome! Worshipful
Cocledemoy, lurk close. Hang toasts! Be not ashamed
of thy quality! Every man's turd smells well in's own
nose. Vanish, foyst! 51
[_Exit._
_Re-enter_ Mistress MULLIGRUB, _with servants and
furniture for the table_.
_Mistress Mul._ Come, spread these table diaper napkins,
and--do you hear--perfume this parlour; does so
smell of profane tobacco. I could never endure this
ungodly tobacco, since one of our elders assured me,
upon his knowledge, tobacco was not used in the congregation
of the family of love. Spread, spread handsomely--Lord?
these boys do things arsy-versy--you
show your bringing up. I was a gentlewoman by my
sister's side--I can tell ye so methodically. Methodically!
I wonder where I got that word? O! Sir
Aminadab Ruth bad me kiss him methodically!--I had
it somewhere, and I had it indeed. 63
_Enter_ Master MULLIGRUB.
_Mul._ Mind, be not desperate; I'll recover all.
All things with me shall seem honest that can be profitable,
He must ne'er winch, that would or thrive or save,
To be call'd niggard, cuckold, cut-throat, knave!
_Mistress Mul._ Are they come, husband?
_Mul._ Who?--what?--how now? What feast towards
in my private parlour? 70
_Mistress Mul._ Pray leave your foolery! What, are
they come?
_Mul._ Come--who come?
_Mistress Mul._ You need not make't so strange!
_Mul._ Strange?
_Mistress Mul._ Ay, strange. You know no man that
sent me word that he and his wife would come to dinner
to me, and sent this jole of fresh salmon beforehand?
_Mul._ Peace--not I--peace! The messenger hath
mistaken the house; let's eat it up quickly before it be
inquired for. Sit to it--some vinegar--quick! Some
good luck yet. Faith, I never tasted salmon relish
better! Oh! when a man feeds at other men's cost! 83
_Mistress Mul._ Other men's cost! Why, did not you
send this jole of salmon?
_Mul._ No.
_Mistress Mul._ By Master Burnish'[71] man?
_Mul._ No.
_Mistress Mul._ Sending me word that he and his wife
would come to dinner to me? 90
_Mul._ No, no.
_Mistress Mul._ To season my new bowl?
_Mul._ Bowl!
_Mistress Mul._ And withal will'd me to send the bowl
back.
_Mul._ Back!
_Mistress Mul._ That you might have your arms graved
on the side?
_Mul._ Ha!
_Mistress Mul._ By the same token you were dry-shaven
this morning before you went forth. 101
_Mul._ Pah! how this salmon stinks!
_Mistress Mul._ And thereupon sent the bowl back,
prepar'd dinner--nay, and I bear not a brain.
_Mul._ Wife, do not vex me! Is the bowl gone?--is
it deliver'd?
_Mistress Mul._ Deliver'd! Yes, sure, 'tis deliver'd.
_Mul._ I will never more say my prayers. Do not
make me mad; 'tis common. Let me not cry like a
woman. Is it gone? 110
_Mistress Mul._ Gone? God is my witness, I deliver'd
it with no more intention to be cozen'd on't than the
child new born; and yet----
_Mul._ Look to my house! I am haunted with evil
spirits! Hear me; do hear me! If I have not my
goblet again, heaven! I'll to the devil,--I'll to a conjurer.
Look to my house! I'll raise all the wise men
i' the street.
[_Exit._
_Mistress Mul._ Deliver us! What words are these? I
trust in God he is but drunk, sure. 120
_Re-enter_ COCLEDEMOY.
_Coc._ I must have the salmon too; worship[ful] Cocledemoy,
now for the masterpiece. God bless thy neckpiece,
and foutra!--Fair mistress, my master----
_Mistress Mul._ Have I caught you?--what, Roger?
_Coc._ Peace, good mistress. I'll tell you all. A jest;
a very mere jest: your husband only took sport to
fright you:--the bowl's at my master's; and there is
your husband, who sent me in all haste lest you should
be over-frighted with his feigning, to come to dinner to
him. 130
_Mistress Mul._ Praise heaven it is no worse.
_Coc._ And desired me to desire you to send the jole of
salmon before, and yourself to come after to them; my
mistress would be right glad to see you.
_Mistress Mul._ I pray carry it. Now thank them
entirely. Bless me, I was never so out of my skin in
my life! pray thank your mistress most entirely.
_Coc._ So now, figo! worshipful Mall Faugh and I will
munch; cheaters and bawds go together like washing
and wringing. 140
[_Exit._
_Mistress Mul._ Beshrew his heart for his labour, how
everything about[72] me quivers. What, Christian! my
hat and aporn:[73] here, take my sleeves. And how I
tremble! so I'll gossip it now for't, that's certain; here
has been revolutions and false fires indeed.
_Enter_ MULLIGRUB.
_Mul._ Whither now?--what's the matter with you now?--whither
are you a-gadding?
_Mistress Mul._ Come, come, play the fool no more.
Will you go?
_Mul._ Whither, in the rank name of madness--whither?
_Mistress Mul._ Whither?--why to Master Burnish,[74] to
eat the jole of salmon. Lord, how strange you make
it! 153
_Mul._ Why so?--why so?
_Mistress Mul._ Why so? Why, did not you send the
self-same fellow for the jole of salmon that had the cup?
_Mul._ 'Tis well,--'tis very well.
_Mistress Mul._ And will'd me to come and eat it with
you at the goldsmith's?
_Mul._ O, ay, ay, ay,--art in thy right wits? 160
_Mistress Mul._ Do you hear?--make a fool of somebody
else; and you make an ass of me, I'll make an ox
of you,--do ye see?
_Mul._ Nay, wife, be patient; for, look you, I may be
mad, or drunk, or so; for my own part, though you can
bear more than I, yet I can do well. I will not curse
nor cry,[75] but Heaven knows what I think. Come, let's
go hear some music; I will never more say my prayers.
Let's go hear some doleful music. Nay, if Heaven forget
to prosper knaves, I'll go no more to the synagogue.
Now I am discontented, I'll turn sectary; that is fashion.
[_Exeunt._
[67] Tradesmen were frequently accused of using their wives as
lures to attract customers. We shall hear more of this subject
when we reach the satires.
[68] For the benefit of cappers an act was passed in 1571 that
caps of wool ("statute-caps") should be worn by citizens on the
Sabbath and on holidays.
[69] "Bear a brain"--keep a shrewd memory.
[70] Old eds. "Garnish."
[71] Old eds. "Garnish."
[72] Ed. 1. "about, abour."
[73] Old form of "apron," (which is the reading of ed. 2).
[74] Old eds. "Garnish."
[75] Ed. 1. "cary."--Ed. 2. "care I."
ACT IV.
SCENE I.
_Room in_ Sir HUBERT SUBBOYS' _house_.
_Enter_ Sir HUBERT SUBBOYS, Sir LIONEL FREEVILL,
CRISPINELLA; _servants with lights_.
_Sir Hub._ More lights! Welcome, Sir Lionel Freevill!
brother Freevill, shortly. Look to your lights!
_Serv._ The masquers are at hand.
_Sir Lio._ Call down our daughter. Hark! they are at
hand: rank handsomely.
_Enter the Masquers; they dance._ _Enter_ BEATRICE, FREEVILL,
_and_ MALHEUREUX. MALHEUREUX _takes_ BEATRICE _from_ FREEVILL:
_they draw_.
_Free._ Know, sir, I have the advantage of the place;
You are not safe: I would deal even with you.
_Mal._ So.
[_They exchange gloves as pledges._
_Free._ So.
_Bea._ I do beseech you, sweet, do not for me provoke
your fortune. 11
_Sir Lio._ What sudden flaw is risen?
_Sir Hub._ From whence comes this?
_Free._ An ulcer, long time lurking, now is burst.
_Sir Hub._ Good sir, the time and your designs are soft.
_Bea._ Ay, dear sir, counsel him, advise him; 'twill relish well
From your carving. Good my sweet, rest safe.
_Free._ All's well! all's well!--this shall be ended straight.
_Sir Hub._ The banquet stays;--there we'll discourse more large.
_Free._ Marriage must not make men cowards.
_Sir Lio._ Nor rage fools. 19
_Sir Hub._ 'Tis valour not where heat but reason rules.
[_Exeunt; only_ TYSEFEW _and_ CRISPINELLA _stay_.
_Tyse._ But do you hear, lady?--you proud ape, you!
What was the jest you brake of me even now?
_Cris._ Nothing. I only said you were all mettle;--that
you had a brazen face, a leaden brain, and a copper
beard.
_Tyse._ Quicksilver,--thou little more than a dwarf,
and something less than a woman.
_Cris._ A wisp! a wisp! a wisp!--will you go to the
banquet?
_Tyse._ By the Lord, I think thou wilt marry shortly
too; thou growest somewhat foolish already. 31
_Cris._ O, i'faith, 'tis a fair thing to be married, and a
necessary. To hear this word _must_! If our husbands
be proud, we must bear his contempt; if noisome, we
must bear with the goat under his armholes; if a fool,
we must bear his bable;[76] and, which is worse, if a
loose liver, we must live upon unwholesome reversions;
where, on the contrary side, our husbands--because
they may, and we must--care not for us. Things
hoped with fear, and got with strugglings, are men's high
pleasures, when duty palls and flats their appetite. 41
_Tyse._ What a tart monkey is this! By heaven! if
thou hadst not so much wit, I could find in my heart
to marry thee. Faith, bear with me for all this!
_Cris._ Bear with thee? I wonder how thy mother
could bear thee ten months in her belly, when I cannot
endure thee two hours in mine eye.
_Tyse._ Alas, for your sweet soul! By the Lord, you
are grown a proud, scurvy, apish, idle, disdainful,
scoffing--God's foot! because you have read _Euphues
and his England_,[77] _Palmerin de Oliva_,[78] and the _Legend
of Lies_![79] 52
_Cris._ Why, i'faith, yet, servant, you of all others
should bear with my known unmalicious humours: I
have always in my heart given you your due respect.
And Heaven may be sworn, I have privately given fair
speech of you, and protested----
_Tyse._ Nay, look you; for my own part, if I have not
as religiously vow'd my heart to you,--been drunk to
your health, swallowed flap-dragons,[80] ate glasses, drunk
urine,[81] stabb'd arms,[82] and done all the offices of protested
gallantry for your sake; and yet you tell me I
have a brazen face, a leaden brain, and a copper beard!
Come, yet, and it please you. 64
_Cris._ No, no;--you do not love me.
_Tyse._ By ---- but I do now; and whosoever dares
say that I do not love you, nay, honour you, and if you
would vouchsafe to marry----
_Cris._ Nay, as for that, think on't as you will, but
God's my record,--and my sister knows I have taken
drink and slept upon't,--that if ever I marry, it shall be
you; and I will marry, and yet I hope I do not say it
shall be you neither. 73
_Tyse._ By Heaven, I shall be as soon weary of health
as of your enjoying!--Will you cast a smooth cheek
upon me?
_Cris._ I cannot tell. I have no crump'd shoulders,
my back needs no mantle, and yet marriage is honourable.
Do you think ye shall prove a cuckold?
_Tyse._ No, by the Lord, not I! 80
_Cris._ Why, I thank you, i'faith. Heigho! I slept on
my back this morning, and dreamt the strangest dreams.
Good Lord! How things will come to pass! Will
you go to the banquet?
_Tyse._ If you will be mine, you shall be your own:--my
purse, my body, my heart, is yours,--only be silent
in my house, modest at my table, and wanton in my
bed;--and the Empress of Europe cannot content, and
shall not be contented, better. 89
_Cris._ Can any kind heart speak more discreetly affectionately?
My father's consent; and as for mine----
_Tyse._ Then thus, and thus, so Hymen should begin;
Sometimes a falling out proves falling in.
[_Exeunt._
[76] The word is used in the double sense of (1) babble, (2)
bauble (which was frequently written _bable_).
[77] _Euphues and his England_ is the title of the second part
(first published in 1580) of John Lyly's famous and tedious
romance.
[78] One of the romances published in the series that bears the
general title of _The Mirrour of Knighthood_.
[79] The _Legend of Lies_ is, of course, a fictitious book.
[80] Candle-ends floating in lighted brandy.
[81] This nasty feat of gallantry is mentioned by Middleton, ii.
351.
[82] It appears (from passages in Ben Jonson, Middleton, &c.)
that gallants were accustomed to puncture their arms, and letting
the blood drip into the wine, drink off the mixture to their
mistress' health.