[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.
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.”
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.
SCENE II.
Near Sir Hubert Subboys’ house.
Enter Freevill, speaking to some within; Malheureux at the other door.
Free. As you respect my virtue, give me leave
To satisfy my reason, though not blood.—
So all runs right; our feignèd rage hath ta’en
To fullest life: they are much possess’d
Of force most, most all quarrel. Now, my right friend,
Resolve me with open breast, free and true heart;
Cannot thy virtue, having space to think
And fortify her weakened powers with reason,
Discourses, meditations, discipline,
Divine ejaculatories, and all those aids against devils,—
Cannot all these curb thy low appetite 11
And sensual fury?
Mal. There is no God in blood, no reason in desire.
Shall I but live? Shall I not be forced to act
Some deed whose very name is hideous?
Free. No.
Mal. Then I must enjoy Franceschina.
Free. You shall.
I’ll lend this ring: show it to that fair devil:
It will resolve me dead;
Which rumour, with my artificial absence,
Will make most firm: enjoy her suddenly. 20
Mal. But if report go strong that you are slain,
And that by me,—whereon I may be seized,—
Where shall I find your being?
Free. At Master Shatewe’s the jeweller’s, to whose breast
I’ll trust our secret purpose.
Mal. Ay, rest yourself;
Each man hath follies.
Free. But those worst of all,
Who, with a willing eye, do seeing fall.
Mal. ’Tis true, but truth seems folly in madness’ spectacles. I am not now myself, no man: farewell.
Free. Farewell. 30
Mal. When woman’s in the heart, in the soul hell.
[Exit Malheureux.
Free. Now, repentance, the fool’s whip, seize thee;
Nay, if there be no means I’ll be thy friend,
But not thy vices’; and with greatest sense
I’ll force thee feel thy errors to the worst;
The wildest of dangers thou shalt sink into.
No jeweller shall see me; I will lurk
Where none shall know or think; close I’ll withdraw,
And leave thee with two friends—a whore and knave;
But is this virtue in me? No, not pure, 40
Nothing extremely best with us endures;
No use in simple purities; the elements
Are mix’d for use; silver without allay[83]
Is all too eager[84] to be wrought for use:
Nor precise virtues, ever purely good,
Holds useful size with temper of weak blood.
Then let my course be borne, though with side-wind;
The end being good, the means are well assign’d.
[Exit.
[83] Old form of alloy.
[84] Brittle (Fr. aigre).—“Aigre, eagre, sharpe, tart, biting, sower also brittle, or easily broken with a hammer.”—Cotgrave.
SCENE III.
Franceschina’s lodging.
Enter Franceschina melancholy, Cocledemoy leading her.
Coc. Come, catafugo, Frank o’ Frank-hall! who, who ho! Excellent! Ha, here’s a plump-rump’d wench, with a breast softer than a courtier’s tongue, an old lady’s gums, or an old man’s mentula. My fine rogue——
Fra. Pah, you poltroon!
Coc. Goody fist,[85] flumpum pumpum; ah, my fine wag-tail, thou art as false, as prostituted, and adulterate as some translated manuscript. Buss, fair whore, buss!
Fra. God’s sacrament, pox! 10
Coc. Hadamoy key, dost thou frown, medianthon teukey? Nay, look here. Numeron key, silver blithefor cany, os cany goblet: us key ne moy blegefoy oteeston pox, on you gosling!
Fra. By me fait, dis bin very fine langage; ick sall bush ye now; ha, be garzon, vare had you dat plate?
Coc. Hedemoy key, get you gone, punk rampant, key, common up-tail!
Enter Mary Faugh in haste.
Mar. O daughter, cousin, niece, servant, mistress!
Coc. Humpum, plumpum squat, I am gone. 20
[Exit Cocledemoy.
Mar. There is one Master Malheureux at the door desires to see you. He says he must not be denied, for he hath sent this ring; and withal says ’tis done.
Fra. Vat sall me do now, God’s sacrament! Tell him two hours hence he sall be most affectionately velcome; tell him (vat sall me do?), tel him ick am bin in my bate, and ick sall perfume my feets, mak a mine body so delicate for his arm, two hours hence.
Mar. I shall satisfy him: two hours hence, well. 29
[Exit Mary.
Fra. Now ick sall revange; hay, begar, me sal tartar de whole generation! Mine brain vork it. Freevill is dead, Malheureux sall hang; and mine rival, Beatrice, ick sall make run mad.
Mar. He’s gone, forsooth, to eat a caudle of cock-stones, and will return within this two hours.
Fra. Verie vel, give monies to some fellow to squire me; ick sal go abroad.
Mar. There’s a lusty bravo beneath, a stranger, but a good stale[86] rascal. He swears valiantly, kicks a bawd right virtuously, and protests with an empty pocket right desperately. He’ll squire you. 41
Fra. Very velcom; mine fan; ick sall retorn presantly. Now sal me be revange; ten tousant devla! der sall be no got in me but passion, no tought but rage, no mercy but bloud, no spirit but divla in me. Dere sal noting tought good for me, but dat is mischievous for others.
[Exit.
SCENE IV.
Room in Sir Hubert Subboys’ house.
Enter Sir Hubert, Sir Lionel, Beatrice, Crispinella, and Nurse, Tysefew following.
Sir Lio. Did no one see him since?—pray God!—nay, all is well.
A little heat; what? he is but withdrawn;
And yet I would to God!—but fear you nothing.
Bea. Pray God that all be well, or would I were not!
Tyse. He’s not to be found, sir, anywhere.
Sir Lio. You must not make a heavy face presage an ill event. I like your sister well, she’s quick and lively: would she would marry, faith.
Cri. Marry, nay and I would marry, methinks an old man’s a quiet thing. 10
Sir Lio. Ha, mass! and so he is.
Cri. You are a widower?
Sir Lio. That I am, i’faith, fair Crisp; and I can tell you, would you affect me, I have it in me yet, i’faith.
Cri. Troth I am in love; let me see your hand: would you cast yourself away upon me willingly?
Sir Lio. Will I? Ay, by the——
Cri. Would you be a cuckold willingly? By my troth ’tis a comely, fine, and handsome sight, for one of my years to marry an old man; truth, ’tis restorative; what a comfortable thing it is to think of her husband, to hear his venerable cough o’ the everlastings, to feel his rough skin, his summer hands and winter legs, his almost no eyes, and assuredly no teeth; and then to think what she must dream of, when she considers others’ happiness and her own want! ’tis a worthy and notorious comfortable match. 27
Sir Lio. Pish, pish! will you have me?
Cri. Will you assure me——
Sir Lio. Five hundred pound jointure?
Cri. That you will die within this fortnight?
Sir Lio. No, by my faith, Cris.
Cri. Then Crisp by her faith assures you she’ll have none of you.
Enter Young Freevill disguised like a pander, and Franceschina.
Free. By’r leave, gentles and men of nightcaps, I would speak, but that here stands one is able to express her own tale best.
Fra. Sir, mine speech is to you; you had a son, matre Freevill?
Sir Lio. Had, ha! and have. 40
Fra. No point,[87] me am come to assure you dat one mestre Malheureux hath killed him.
Bea. O me! wretched, wretched!
Sir Hub. Look to our daughter.
Sir Lio. How art thou inform’d?
Fra. If dat it please you to go vid me, ick sall bring you where you sall hear Malheureux vid his own lips confess it, and dare ye may apprehend him, and revenge your and mine love’s blood.
Sir Hub. Your love’s blood! mistress, was he your love? 51
Fra. He was so, sir; let your daughter hear it: do not veep, lady; de young man dat be slain did not love you, for he still lovit me ten tousant tousant times more dearly.
Bea. O my heart, I will love you the better; I cannot hate what he affected. O passion, O my grief! which way wilt break, think, and consume!
Cri. Peace!
Bea. Dear woes cannot speak. 60
Fra. For look you, lady, dis your ring he gave me, vid most bitter jests at your scorn’d kindness.
Bea. He did not ill not to love me, but sure he did not well to mock me: gentle minds will pity, though they cannot love; yet peace and my love sleep with him. Unlace, good nurse; alas! I was not so ambitious of so supreme an happiness, that he should only love me; ’twas joy enough for me, poor soul, that I only might only love him.
Fra. O but to be abused, scorn’d, scoff’d at! O ten tousand divla, by such a one, and unto such a one! 71
Bea. I think you say not true, sister; shall we know one another in the other world?
Cri. What means my sister?
Bea. I would fain see him again! O my tortured mind!
Freevill is more than dead, he is unkind!
[Exeunt Beatrice, Crispinella, and Nurse.
Sir Hub. Convey her in, and so, sir, as you said, Set a strong watch.
Sir Lio. Ay, sir, and so pass along with this same common woman; you must make it good. 80
Fra. Ick sall, or let me pay for his mine bloud.
Sir Hub. Come, then, along all, with quiet speed.
Sir Lio. O fate!
Tyse. O sir, be wisely sorry, but not passionate.
[Exeunt all but Young Freevill.
Free. I will go and reveal myself! stay, no, no;
Grief endears love. Heaven! to have such a wife
Is happiness to breed pale envy in the saints.
Thou worthy dove-like virgin without gall,
Cannot (that woman’s evil) jealousy,
Despite disgrace, nay, which is worse, contempt, 90
Once stir thy faith? O truth, how few sisters hast thou!
Dear memory!
With what a suffering sweetness, quiet modesty,
Yet deep affection, she received my death!
And then with what a patient, yet oppressed kindness,
She took my lewdly intimated wrongs!
O the dearest of heaven! were there but three
Such women in the world, two might be saved.
Well, I am great
With expectation to what devilish end 100
This woman of foul soul will drive her plots;
But Providence all wicked art o’ertops;
And impudence must know (tho’ stiff as ice),
That fortune doth not always dote on vice.
[Exit.