SCENE IV.

Outside Security’s house.

Enter Security.

Sec. What, Winny!—wife, I say! out of doors at this time! where should I seek the gad-fly? Billingsgate, Billingsgate, Billingsgate! She’s gone with the knight, she’s gone with the knight; woe be to thee, Billingsgate! A boat, a boat, a boat! a full hundred marks for a boat![72]

[Exit.

ACT IV.

Sl. All hail, fair haven of married men only! for there are none but married men cuckolds. For my part, I presume not to arrive here, but in my masters behalf (a poor butcher of East-cheap), who sends me to set up (in honour of Saint Luke) these necessary ensigns of his homage.[73] And up I got this morning, thus early, to get up to the top of this famous tree, that is all fruit and no leaves, to advance this crest of my master’s occupation. Up then; heaven and Saint Luke bless me, that I be not blown into the Thames as I climb, with this furious tempest. ’Slight! I think the devil be abroad, in likeness of a storm, to rob me of my horns! Hark how he roars! Lord! what a coil the Thames keeps! she bears some unjust burthen, I believe, that she kicks and curvets thus to cast it. Heaven bless all honest passengers that are upon her back now; for the bit is out of her mouth, I see, and she will run away with ’hem! So, so, I think I have made it look the right way; it runs against London Bridge, as it were, even full butt. And now let me discover from this lofty prospect, what pranks the rude Thames plays in her desperate lunacy. O me! here’s a boat has been cast away hard by. Alas, alas! see one of her passengers labouring for his life to land at this haven here! pray heaven he may recover it! His next land is even just under me; hold out yet a little, whatsoever thou art; pray, and take a good heart to thee. ’Tis a man; take a man’s heart to thee; yet a little further, get up a’ thy legs, man; now ’tis shallow enough. So, so, so! Alas! he’s down again. Hold thy wind, father: ’tis a man in a nightcap. So! now he’s got up again; now he’s past the worst: yet, thanks be to heaven, he comes towards me pretty and strongly.    33

Sl. Look up, father; are you acquainted with this mark?    40

Sl. What young planet reigns now, trow,[74] that old men are so foolish? What desperate young swaggerer would have been abroad such a weather as this, upon the water? Ay me! see another remnant of this unfortunate shipwreck, or some other. A woman, i’faith, a woman; though it be almost at St. Katherine’s, I discern it to be a woman, for all her body is above the water, and her clothes swim about her most handsomely. O, they bear her up most bravely! has not a woman reason to love the taking up of her clothes the better while she lives, for this? Alas! how busy the rude Thames is about her! a pox o’ that wave! it will drown her, i’faith, ’twill drown her! Cry God mercy, she has ’scaped it—I thank heaven she has ’scaped it! O how she swims like a mermaid! some vigilant body look out and save her. That’s well said; just where the priest fell in, there’s one sets down a ladder, and goes to take her up. God’s blessing o’ thy heart, boy! Now take her up in thy arms and to bed with her; she’s up, she’s up! She’s a beautiful woman, I warrant her; the billows durst not devour her.    77

Enter the Drawer of the Blue Anchor,[75] with Winifred.

Dr. How fare you now, lady?

Wi. Much better, my good friend, than I wish; as one desperate of her fame, now my life is preserved.

Dr. Comfort yourself: that power that preserved you from death can likewise defend you from infamy, howsoever you deserve it. Were not you one that took boat late this night, with a knight and other gentlemen at Billingsgate?

Wi. Unhappy that I am, I was.    86

Dr. I am glad it was my good hap to come down thus far after you, to a house of my friend’s here in St. Katherine’s, since I am now happily made a mean to your rescue from the ruthless tempest, which (when you took boat) was so extreme, and the gentleman that brought you forth so desperate and unsober, that I feared long ere this I should hear of your shipwreck, and therefore (with little other reason) made thus far this way. And this I must tell you, since perhaps you may make use of it, there was left behind you at our tavern, brought by a porter (hired by the young gentleman that brought you), a gentlewoman’s gown, hat, stockings, and shoes; which if they be yours, and you please to shift you, taking a hard bed here in this house of my friend, I will presently go fetch you.    101

Slit. See, see, see! I hold my life, there’s some other a taking up at Wapping now! Look, what a sort of people cluster about the gallows there! in good troth it is so. O me! a fine young gentleman! What, and taken up at the gallows! Heaven grant he be not one day taken down there! O’ my life, it is ominous! Well, he is delivered for the time. I see the people have all left him; yet will I keep my prospect awhile, to see if any more have been shipwracked.    124

Sea. No, by my troth, knight, not I; but methinks we have been a horrible while upon the water and in the water.    150

2nd Gent. A poor knight of England?—a poor knight of Windsor, are you not? Why speak you this broken French when y’are a whole Englishman? On what coast are you, think you?

1st Gent. On the coast of Dogs, sir; y’are i’th’ Isle o’ Dogs, I tell you, I see y’ave been washed in the Thames here, and I believe ye were drowned in a tavern before, or else you would never have took boat in such a dawning as this was. Farewell, farewell; we will not know you for shaming of you. I ken the man weel; he’s one of my thirty pound knights.[76]

2nd Gent. No, no, this is he that stole his knighthood o’ the grand day for four pound given to a page; all the money in’s purse, I wot well.

[Exeunt.

Sea. Death! colonel, I knew you were over-shot.    190

Pe. Sure I think now, indeed, Captain Seagull, we were something over-shot.

Enter Quicksilver.

What! my sweet Frank Quicksilver! dost thou survive to rejoice me? But what! nobody at thy heels, Frank? Ay me! what is become of poor Mistress Security?

Qu. ’Faith, gone quite from her name, as she is from her fame, I think; I left her to the mercy of the water.

Sea. Let her go, let her go! Let us go to our ship at Blackwall, and shift us.    199

Pe. Nay, by my troth, let our clothes rot upon us, and let us rot in them; twenty to one our ship is attached by this time! If we set her not under sail this last tide, I never looked for any other. Woe, woe is me! what shall become of us? The last money we could make, the greedy Thames has devoured; and if our ship be attached, there is no hope can relieve us.

Qu. Tush, knight! the terms of this art every ignorant quacksalver is perfect in; but I’ll tell you how yourself shall blanch copper thus cunningly. Take arsenic, otherwise called realga (which indeed is plain ratsbane); sublime ’hem three or four times, then take the sublimate of this realga, and put ’hem into a glass, into chymia, and let them have a convenient decoction natural, four-and-twenty hours, and he will become perfectly fixed; then take this fixed powder, and project him upon well-purged copper, et habebis magisterium.    237

Wi. Now, sweet friend, you have brought me near enough your tavern, which I desired I might with some colour be seen near, inquiring for my husband, who, I must tell you, stole[77] thither the last night with my wet gown we have left at your friend’s, which, to continue your former honest kindness, let me pray you to keep close from the knowledge of any: and so, with all vow of your requital, let me now entreat you to leave me to my woman’s wit and fortune.    262

Dr. All shall be done you desire; and so all the fortune you can wish for attend you.

[Exit Drawer.

Enter Security.

Sec. I will once more to this unhappy tavern before I shift one rag of me more; that I may there know what is left behind, and what news of their passengers. I have bought me a hat and band with the little money I had about me, and made the streets a little leave staring at my nightcap.

Wi. O, my dear husband! where have you been to-night? All night abroad at taverns! Rob me of my garments! and fare as one run away from me! Alas! is this seemly for a man of your credit, of your age, and affection to your wife?    275

Sec. What should I say?—how miraculously sorts this!—was not I at home, and called thee last night?

Wi. Yes, sir, the harmless sleep you broke; and my answer to you would have witnessed it, if you had had the patience to have stayed and answered me; but your so sudden retreat made me imagine you were gone to Master Bramble’s, and so rested patient and hopeful of your coming again, till this your unbelieved absence brought me abroad with no less than wonder, to seek you where the false knight had carried you.    285

[Slit.] Now will I descend my honourable prospect; the farthest seeing sea-mark of the world; no marvel, then, if I could see two miles about me. I hope the red tempest’s anger be now over-blown, which sure, I think, Heaven sent as a punishment for profaning holy Saint Luke’s memory[78] with so ridiculous a custom. Thou dishonest satire! farewell to honest married men, farewell to all sorts and degrees of thee! Farewell, thou horn of hunger, that call’st the inns o’ court to their manger! Farewell, thou horn of abundance, that adornest the headsmen of the commonwealth! Farewell, thou horn of direction, that is the city lanthorn! Farewell, thou horn of pleasure, the ensign of the huntsman! Farewell, thou horn of destiny, th’ ensign of the married man! Farewell, thou horn tree, that bearest nothing but stone-fruit!    309

[Exit.

SCENE II.

To. Ha, sirrah! thinks my knight adventurer we can no point of our compass? Do we not know nor-north-east, north-east-and-by-east, east-and-by-north? nor plain eastward? Ha! have we never heard of Virginia? nor the Cavallaria? nor the Colonoria? Can we discover no discoveries? Well, mine errant Sir Flash, and my runagate Quicksilver, you may drink drunk,[79] crack cans, hurl away a brown dozen of Monmouth caps[80] or so, in sea ceremony to your bon voyage; but for reaching any coast, save the coast of Kent or Essex, with this tide, or with this fleet, I’ll be your warrant for a Gravesend toast. There’s that gone afore will stay your admiral,[81] and vice-admiral and rear-admiral, were they all (as they are) but one pinnace, and under sail, as well as a remora,[82] doubt it not; and from this sconce,[83] without either powder or shot. Work upon that now. Nay, and you’ll show tricks, we’ll vie[84] with you a little. My daughter, his lady, was sent eastward by land, to a castle of his, i’ the air (in what region I know not), and, as I hear, was glad to take up her lodging in her coach, she and her two waiting-women, her maid, and her mother, like three snails in a shell, and the coachman a-top on ’hem, I think. Since they have all found the way back again by Weeping Cross;[85] but I’ll not see ’hem. And for two on ’hem, madam and her malkin, they are like to bite o’ the bridle for William, as the poor horses have done all this while that hurried ’hem, or else go graze o’ the common. So should my Dame Touchstone too; but she has been my cross these thirty years, and I’ll now keep her to fright away sprites, i’faith. I wonder I hear no news of my son Golding. He was sent for to the Guildhall this morning betimes, and I marvel at the matter; if I had not laid up comfort and hope in him, I should grow desperate of all. See! he is come i’ my thought. How now, son? What news at the Court of Aldermen?    35

Enter Golding.

Go. Troth, sir, an accident somewhat strange, else it hath little in it worth the reporting.

To. What? it is not borrowing of money, then?

Go. No, sir; it hath pleased the worshipful commoners of the city to take me one i’ their number at presentation of the inquest——

To. Ha!

Go. And the alderman of the ward wherein I dwell to appoint me his deputy——

To. Excellently spoken! This modest answer of thine blushes, as if it said, I will wear scarlet shortly. Worshipful son! I cannot contain myself, I must tell thee; I hope to see thee one o’ the monuments of our city, and reckoned among her worthies to be remembered the same day with the Lady Ramsey[86] and grave Gresham, when the famous fable of Whittington and his puss shall be forgotten, and thou and thy acts become the posies for hospitals; when thy name shall be written upon conduits, and thy deeds, played i’ thy lifetime, by the best companies of actors,[87] and be called their get-penny.[88] This I divine. This I prophesy.    79

Go. Sir, engage not your expectation farther than my abilities will answer; I, that know mine own strengths, fear ’hem; and there is so seldom a loss in promising the least, that commonly it brings with it a welcome deceit. I have other news for you, sir.

To. None more welcome, I am sure?

Go. They have their degree of welcome, I dare affirm. The colonel and all his company, this morning putting forth drunk from Billingsgate, had like to have been cast away o’ this side Greenwich; and (as I have intelligence by a false brother) are come dropping to town like so many masterless men, i’ their doublets and hose, without hat, or cloak, or any other——    92

To. A miracle! the justice of Heaven! Where are they? let’s go presently and lay[89] for ’hem.

Go. I have done that already, sir, both by constables and other officers, who shall take ’hem at their old Anchor, and with less tumult or suspicion than if yourself were seen in’t—and under colour of a great press that is now abroad, and they shall here be brought afore me.    100

To. Prudent and politic son! Disgrace ’hem all that ever thou canst; their ship I have already arrested. How to my wish it falls out, that thou hast the place of a justicer upon ’hem! I am partly glad of the injury done to me, that thou may’st punish it. Be severe i’ thy place, like a new officer o’ the first quarter, unreflected. You hear how our lady is come back with her train, from the invisible castle?

Go. No; where is she?    109

To. Within; but I ha’ not seen her yet, nor her mother, who now begins to wish her daughter undubbed, they say, and that she had walked a foot-pace with her sister. Here they come; stand back.

Enter Mistress Touchstone, Gertrude, Mildred, and Sindefy.

God save your ladyship—save your good ladyship! Your ladyship is welcome from your enchanted castle, so are your beauteous retinue. I hear your knight errant is travelled on strange adventures. Surely, in my mind, your ladyship hath fished fair, and caught a frog, as the saying is.

To. Your ladyship says true, madam; and it is fitter and a greater decorum, that I should curtsey to you that are a knight’s wife, and a lady, than you be brought o’ your knees to me, who am a poor cullion[90] and your father.

Ge. Law!—my father knows his duty.    130

Mist. T. O child!

To. And therefore I do desire your ladyship, my good Lady Flash, in all humility, to depart my obscure cottage, and return in quest of your bright and most transparent castle, however presently concealed to mortal eyes. And as for one poor woman of your train here, I will take that order, she shall no longer be a charge unto you, nor help to spend your ladyship; she shall stay at home with me, and not go abroad, nor put you to the pawning of an odd coach-horse or three wheels, but take part with the Touchstone. If we lack, we will not complain to your ladyship. And so, good madam, with your damosel here, please you to let us see your straight backs in equipage; for truly here is no roost for such chickens as you are, or birds o’ your feather, if it like your ladyship.    146

Ge. Marry, fist[91] o’ your kindness! I thought as much. Come away, Sin, we shall as soon get a fart from a dead man,[92] as a farthing of courtesy here.

Mi. O, good sister!

Ge. Sister, sir reverence! Come away, I say, hunger drops out at his nose.

Go. O, madam, fair words never hurt the tongue.

Ge. How say you by that? You come out with your gold-ends now!

Mist. T. Stay, lady-daughter; good husband!    156

To. Wife, no man loves his fetters, be they made of gold. I list not ha’ my head fastened under my child’s girdle; as she has brewed, so let her drink, o’ God’s name. She went witless to wedding, now she may go wisely a-begging. It’s but honeymoon yet with her ladyship; she has coach-horses, apparel, jewels, yet left; she needs care for no friends, nor take knowledge of father, mother, brother, sister, or anybody. When those are pawned or spent, perhaps we shall return into the list of her acquaintance.    166

Ge. I scorn it, i’faith. Come, Sin.

Mist. T. O madam, why do you provoke your father thus?

[Exeunt Gertrude and Sindefy.

To. Nay, nay; e’en let pride go afore, shame will follow after, I warrant you. Come, why dost thou weep now? Thou art not the first good cow hast had an ill calf, I trust.

Qu. Would it had been my fortune to have been trussed up at Wapping[93] rather than ever ha’ come here!

Pe. Or mine, to have famished in the island!    191

Qu. Must Golding sit upon us?

Co. You might carry an M. under your girdle[94] to Master Deputy’s worship.

Go. What are those, Master Constable?

Co. An’t please your worship, a couple of masterless men I pressed for the Low Countries, sir.

Go. Why do you not carry ’hem to Bridewell, according to your order, they may be shipped away?

Co. An’t please your worship, one of ’hem says he is a knight; and we thought good to show him to your worship, for our discharge.    202

Go. Which is he?

Co. This, sir.

Go. And what’s the other?

Co. A knight’s fellow, sir, an’t please you.

Go. What! a knight and his fellow thus accoutred? Where are their hats and feathers, their rapiers and their cloaks?

Qu. O, they mock us.    210

Co. Nay, truly, sir, they had cast both their feathers and hats too, before we see ’hem. Here’s all their furniture, an’t please you, that we found. They say knights are now to be known without feathers, like cockerels by their spurs, sir.

Go. What are their names, say they?

To. Yes, Master Deputy; I had a small venture with them in the voyage—a thing called a son-in-law, or so. Officers, you may let ’hem stand alone, they will not run away; I’ll give my word for them. A couple of very honest gentlemen. One of ’hem was my prentice, Master Quicksilver here; and when he had two year to serve, kept his whore and his hunting nag, would play his hundred pound at gresco,[95] or primero, as familiarly (and all o’ my purse) as any bright piece of crimson on ’hem all; had his changeable trunks of apparel standing at livery with his mare, his chest of perfumed linen, and his bathing-tubs, which when I told him of, why he!—he was a gentleman, and I a poor Cheapside groom. The remedy was, we must part. Since when, he hath had the gift of gathering up some small parcels of mine, to[96] the value of five hundred pound, dispersed among my customers, to furnish this his Virginia venture; wherein this knight was the chief, Sir Flash—one that married a daughter of mine, ladyfied her, turned two thousand pounds’ worth of good land of hers into cash within the first week, bought her a new gown and a coach; sent her to seek her fortune by land, whilst himself prepared for his fortune by sea; took in fresh flesh at Billingsgate, for his own diet, to serve him the whole voyage—the wife of a certain usurer called Security, who hath been the broker for ’hem in all this business. Please, Master Deputy, work upon that now.    257

Go. If my worshipful father have ended——

To. I have, it shall please Master Deputy.

Go. Well then, under correction——

To. Now, son, come over ’hem with some fine gird, as thus, “Knight, you shall be encountered,” that is, had to the Counter; or, “Quicksilver, I will put you into a crucible,” or so.

Go. Sir Petronel Flash, I am sorry to see such flashes as these proceed from a gentleman of your quality and rank; for mine own part, I could wish I could say I could not see them; but such is the misery of magistrates and men in place, that they must not wink at offenders. Take him aside; I will hear you anon, sir.    270

To. I like this well, yet; there’s some grace i’ the knight left—he cries.

Go. Francis Quicksilver, would God thou hadst turned quacksalver, rather than run into these dissolute and lewd courses! It is great pity; thou art a proper young man, of an honest and clean face, somewhat near a good one; God hath done his part in thee; but thou hast made too much, and been too proud of that face, with the rest of thy body; for maintenance of which in neat and garish attire, only to be looked upon by some light housewives, thou hast prodigally consumed much of thy master’s estate; and being by him gently admonished at several times, hast returned thyself haughty and rebellious in thine answers, thundering out uncivil comparisons, requiting all his kindness with a coarse and harsh behaviour; never returning thanks for any one benefit, but receiving all as if they had been debts to thee, and no courtesies. I must tell thee, Francis, these are manifest signs of an ill-nature; and God doth often punish such pride and outrecuidance[97] with scorn and infamy, which is the worst of misfortune. My worshipful father, what do you please to charge them withal? From the press I will free ’hem, Master Constable.    293

Co. Then I’ll leave your worship, sir.

Go. No, you may stay; there will be other matters against ’hem.

To. Sir, I do charge this gallant, Master Quicksilver, on suspicion of felony; and the knight as being accessary in the receipt of my goods.

Pe. Will you not take security, sir?

To. Yes, marry, will I, Sir Flash, if I can find him, and charge him as deep as the best on you. He has been the plotter of all this; he is your enginer,[98] I hear. Master Deputy, you’ll dispose of these. In the meantime, I’ll to my lord mayor, and get his warrant to seize that serpent Security into my hands, and seal up both house and goods to the king’s use or my satisfaction.    335

Go. Officers, take ’hem to the Counter.

Qu. and Pe. O God!

To. Nay, on, on! you see the issue of your sloth. Of sloth cometh pleasure, of pleasure cometh riot, of riot comes whoring, of whoring comes spending, of spending comes want, of want comes theft, of theft comes hanging; and there is my Quicksilver fixed.

[Exeunt.