[79] “’Slid now, I’m quite altered! ... sit up late till it be early; drink drunk till I am sober.”—Middleton, iii. 254.
[80] “Monmouth caps” were caps worn by sailors. (See “The Ballad of the Caps” in Fairholt’s Satirical Songs and Poems on Costume, p. 115.)
[81] The chief ship of a fleet.
[82] A barnacle.—It was supposed to be able to stop a ship’s course by adhering to the rudder.
[83] “Sconce” = (1) head, (2) fort.
[84] Vie was a term in card-playing; it meant to back one’s cards against an opponent’s.
[85] A proverbial saying. See Nares’ Glossary.
[86] Lady Mary Ramsey, second wife of Sir Thomas Ramsey (who was lord mayor in 1577). She was a benefactress of Christ’s Hospital and other institutions: she died in 1596. See Stow’s Annales, ed. 1720, i. 278.
[87] There is an allusion to Heywood’s play, If you know not me you know nobody. The First Part was printed in 1605; the Second Part in 1606. In the prologue to the First Part Heywood mentions that the play had enjoyed extraordinary popularity; and from the same source we gather that it had been written some considerable time before the date of publication. The Second Part is largely taken up with the building of Gresham’s Royal Exchange. Lady Ramsey is one of the characters.
[88] A theatrical term for a profitable performance. See Middleton, iii. 134.
[89] I.e., set officers in ambush to arrest them.
[90] Mean rascal.
[91] An indelicate observation.—“Vessifier. To breed a fyste, to make breake wind, or let a fyste.”—Cotgrave.
[92] A proverbial expression.—“J’aymeroy autant tirer un pet d’un asne mort, que, &c.—I would as soone undertake to get a fart of a dead man, as, &c.”—Cotgrave.
[93] Where pirates were hanged.
[94]
“You might carry an M. under your girdle” = you might have
the civility to use the term Master. Cf. Heywood’s A
Maidenhead well Lost, iii. 2:—
“Wife. Sirrah.
Clown. Madam.
Lan. Why dost view me thus?
Clown. To see if the tailor that made your gown hath
put ne’er an M. under your girdle: there belongs more
to beaten satin than sirrah.”
[95] A game at cards.
[96] Old ed. “so.”
[97] Presumption, arrogance.—Ben. Jonson has this French word in Cynthia’s Revels, v. 2. Nares quotes an instance from Chapman’s Monsieur d’Olive.
[98] Schemer.
SCENE I.
Gertrude’s lodging.
Enter Gertrude and Sindefy.
Ge. Ah, Sin! hast thou ever read i’ the chronicle of any lady and her waiting-woman driven to that extremity that we are, Sin?
Si. Not I, truly, madam; and if I had, it were but cold comfort should come out of books now.
Ge. Why, good faith, Sin, I could dine with a lamentable story, now. O[99] hone, hone, o no nera! &c. Canst thou tell ne’er a one, Sin?
Si. None but mine own, madam, which is lamentable enough: first to be stolen from my friends, which were worshipful and of good accompt, by a prentice, in the habit and disguise of a gentleman, and here brought up to London, and promised marriage, and now likely to be forsaken, for he is in possibility to be hanged! 14
Ge. Nay, weep not, good Sin; my Petronel is in as good possibility as he. Thy miseries are nothing to mine, Sin; I was more than promised marriage, Sin; I had it, Sin; and was made a lady; and by a knight, Sin; which is now as good as no knight, Sin. And I was born in London, which is more than brought up, Sin; and already forsaken, which is past likelihood, Sin; and instead of land i’ the country, all my knight’s living lies i’ the Counter, Sin; there’s his castle now! 24
Si. Which he cannot be forced out of, madam.
Ge. Yes, if he would live hungry a week or two. “Hunger,” they say, “breaks stone walls.” But he is e’en well enough served, Sin, that so soon as ever he had got my hand to the sale of my inheritance, run away from me, and I had been his punk, God bless us! Would the Knight o’ the Sun,[100] or Palmerin of England, have used their ladies so, Sin? or Sir Lancelot? or Sir Tristram?
Si. I do not know, madam. 34
Ge. Then thou know’st nothing, Sin. Thou art a fool, Sin. The knighthood nowadays are nothing like the knighthood of old time. They rid a-horseback; ours go a-foot. They were attended by their squires; ours by their lackeys. They went buckled in their armour; ours muffled in their cloaks. They travelled wildernesses and deserts; ours dare scarce walk the streets. They were still pressed to engage their honour; ours still ready to pawn their clothes. They would gallop on at sight of a monster; ours run away at sight of a sergeant. They would help poor ladies; ours make poor ladies.
Si. Ay, madam, they were knights of the Round Table at Winchester, that sought adventures; but these of the Square Table at ordinaries, that sit at hazard.[101] 48
Ge. True,[102] Sin, let him vanish. And tell me, what shall we pawn next?
Si. Ay, marry, madam, a timely consideration; for our hostess (profane woman!) has sworn by bread and salt she will not trust us another meal.
Ge. Let it stink in her hand then. I’ll not be beholding to her. Let me see, my jewels be gone, and my gowns, and my red velvet petticoat that I was married in, and my wedding silk stockings, and all thy best apparel, poor Sin! Good faith, rather than thou shouldst pawn a rag more, I’d lay my ladyship in lavender[103]—if I knew where. 60
Si. Alas, madam, your ladyship!
Ge. Ay,—why?—you do not scorn my ladyship, though it is in a waistcoat? God’s my life! you are a peat[104] indeed! Do I offer to mortgage my ladyship for you and for your avail, and do you turn the lip and the alas to my ladyship?
Si. No, madam; but I make question who will lend anything upon it? 68
Ge. Who?—marry, enow, I warrant you, if you’ll seek ’hem out. I’m sure I remember the time when I would ha’ given one thousand pounds (if I had had it) to have been a lady; and I hope I was not bred and born with that appetite alone: some other gentle-born o’ the city have the same longing, I trust. And for my part, I would afford ’hem a penn’orth; my ladyship is little the worse for the wearing, and yet I would bate a good deal of the sum. I would lend it (let me see) for forty pound in hand, Sin; that would apparel us; and ten pound a year, that would keep me and you, Sin (with our needles); and we should never need to be beholding to our scurvy parents. Good Lord! that there are no fairies nowadays, Sin! 82
Si. Why, madam?
Ge. To do miracles, and bring ladies money. Sure, if we lay in a cleanly house, they would haunt it, Sin. I’ll try. I’ll sweep the chamber soon at night, and set a dish of water o’ the hearth. A fairy may come, and bring a pearl or a diamond. We do not know, Sin. Or, there may be a pot of gold hid o’ the backside,[105] if we had tools to dig for’t? Why may not we two rise early i’ the morning, Sin, afore anybody is up, and find a jewel i’ the streets worth a hundred pound? May not some great court-lady, as she comes from revels at midnight, look out of her coach as ’tis running, and lose such a jewel, and we find it? Ha? 95
Si. They are pretty waking dreams, these.
Ge. Or may not some old usurer be drunk overnight, with a bag of money, and leave it behind him on a stall? For God’s sake, Sin, let’s rise to-morrow by break of day, and see. I protest, law, if I had as much money as an alderman, I would scatter some on’t i’ th’ streets for poor ladies to find, when their knights were laid up. And, now I remember my song o’ the Golden Shower, why may not I have such a fortune? I’ll sing it, and try what luck I shall have after it. 105
“Fond fables tell of old,
How Jove in Danäe’s lap
Fell in a shower of gold,
By which she caught a clap;
O had it been my hap 110
(How ere the blow doth threaten),
So well I like the play,
That I could wish all day
And night to be so beaten.”
Enter Mistress Touchstone.
O here’s my mother! good luck, I hope. Ha’ you brought any money, mother? Pray you, mother, your blessing. Nay, sweet mother, do not weep.
Mist. T. God bless you! I would I were in my grave! 119
Ge. Nay, dear mother, can you steal no more money from my father? Dry your eyes, and comfort me. Alas! it is my knight’s fault, and not mine, that I am in a waistcoat, and attired thus simply.
Mist. T. Simply, ’tis better than thou deservest. Never whimper for the matter. Thou shouldst have looked before thou hadst leapt. Thou wert afire to be a lady, and now your ladyship and you may both blow at the coal, for aught I know. Self do, self have. The hasty person never wants woe, they say. 129
Ge. Nay, then, mother, you should ha’ looked to it. A body would think you were the older; I did but my kind, I. He was a knight, and I was fit to be a lady. ’Tis not lack of liking, but lack of living, that severs us. And you talk like yourself and a cittiner in this, i’faith. You show what husband you come on, I wis. You smell the Touchstone—he that will do more for his daughter, that he has married [to] a scurvy gold-end man[106] and his prentice, than he will for his t’other daughter, that has wedded a knight and his customer. By this light, I think he is not my legitimate father. 140
Si. O, good madam, do not take up your mother so!
Mist. T. Nay, nay, let her e’en alone. Let her ladyship grieve me still, with her bitter taunts and terms. I have not dole enough to see her in this miserable case, I—without her velvet gowns, without ribands, without jewels, without French-wires, or cheat-bread,[107] or quails, or a little dog, or a gentleman-usher, or anything, indeed, that’s fit for a lady——
Si. Except her tongue. 149
Mist. T. And I not able to relieve her, neither, being kept so short by my husband. Well, God knows my heart; I did little think that ever she should have had need of her sister Golding.
Ge. Why, mother, I ha’ not yet. Alas! good mother, be not intoxicate for me; I am well enough; I would not change husbands with my sister, I. The[108] leg of a lark is better than the body of a kite.
Mist. T. I know that: but——
Ge. What, sweet mother, what?
Mist. T. It’s but ill food when nothing’s left but the claw. 161
Ge. That’s true, mother. Ay me!
Mist. T. Nay, sweet lady-bird,[109] sigh not. Child, madam—why do you weep thus? Be of good cheer; I shall die if you cry, and mar your complexion thus.
Ge. Alas, mother, what should I do?
Mist. T. Go to thy sister’s, child; she’ll be proud thy ladyship will come under her roof. She’ll win thy father to release thy knight, and redeem thy gowns, and thy coach and thy horses, and set thee up again. 170
Ge. But will she get him to set my knight up too?
Mist. T. That she will, or anything else thou’lt ask her.
Ge. I will begin to love her if I thought she would do this.
Mist. T. Try her, good chuck,[110] I warrant thee.
Ge. Dost thou think she’ll do’t?
Si. Ay, madam, and be glad you will receive it.
Mist. T. That’s a good maiden; she tells you true. Come, I’ll take order for your debts i’ the alehouse. 180
Ge. Go, Sin, and pray for thy Frank, as I will for my Pet.
[Exeunt.
[99] See Chappell’s Popular Music of the Olden Time, i. 369.
[100] See note, vol. i. p. 30.
[101] Hazard was the name of a game at dice. Cotton in the Complete Gamester, 1674 (pp. 67-72), devotes a chapter to it. He remarks:—“Certainly Hazard is the most bewitching game that is played on the dice, for when a man begins to play he knows not when to leave off; and having once accustomed himself to play at Hazard, he hardly ever after minds anything else.”
[102] Old ed. “Trie.”
[103] “Lay in lavender” = pawn.
[104] A spoilt, self-willed girl.
[105] “Backside”—the yard at the back of a house.
[106] “Gold-end man”—one who buys ends (i.e., broken pieces) of gold. See Gifford’s Jonson, ed. 1875, iv. 76.
[107] Fine wheaten bread.
[108] An old proverb: it is among John Heywood’s Proverbs.
[109] This term of endearment is applied by the Nurse to Juliet (Rom. and Jul., 1. iii.)
[110] A favourite word with Marston.
SCENE II.
Goldsmiths’ Row.
Enter Touchstone, Golding, Wolf.
To. I will receive no letters, Master Wolf; you shall pardon me.
Go. Good father, let me entreat you.
To. Son Golding, I will not be tempted; I find mine own easy nature, and I know not what a well-penned subtle letter may work upon it; there may be tricks, packing, do you see? Return with your packet, sir.
Wo. Believe it, sir, you need fear no packing here; these are but letters of submission all.
To. Sir, I do look for no submission. I will bear myself in this like blind Justice. Work upon that now. When the sessions come they shall hear from me. 12
Go. From whom come your letters, Master Wolf?
Wo. And’t please you, sir, one from Sir Petronel, another from Francis Quicksilver, and a third from old Security, who is almost mad in prison. There are two to your worship; one from Master Francis, sir, another from the knight.
To. I do wonder, Master Wolf, why you should travail thus, in a business so contrary to kind, or the nature o’ your place: that you, being the keeper of a prison, should labour the release of your prisoners; whereas, methinks, it were far more natural and kindly in you to be ranging about for more, and not let these ’scape you have already under the tooth. But they say you Wolves, when you ha’ sucked the blood, once that they are dry, you ha’ done. 27
Wo. Sir, your worship may descant as you please o’ my name; but I protest I was never so mortified with any men’s discourse or behaviour in prison; yet I have had of all sorts of men i’ the kingdom under my keys; and almost of all religions i’ the land, as Papist, Protestant, Puritan, Brownist, Anabaptist, Millenary, Family-o’-Love, Jew, Turk, Infidel, Atheist, Good-Fellow, &c.
Go. And which of all these, thinks Master Wolf, was the best religion? 37
Wo. Troth, Master Deputy, they that pay fees best: we never examine their consciences farther.
Go. I believe you, Master Wolf. Good faith, sir, here’s a great deal of humility i’ these letters.
Wo. Humility, sir? Ay, were your worship an eyewitness of it you would say so. The knight will i’ the Knight’s Ward,[111] do what we can, sir; and Master Quicksilver would be i’ the Hole if we would let him. I never knew or saw prisoners more penitent, or more devout. They will sit you up all night singing of psalms and edifying the whole prison; only Security sings a note too high sometimes, because he lies i’ the Twopenny Ward, far off, and cannot take his tune. The neighbours cannot rest for him, but come every morning to ask what godly prisoners we have. 52
To. Which on ’hem is’t is so devout—the knight or the t’other?
Wo. Both, sir; but the young man especially. I never heard his like. He has cut his hair too. He is so well given, and has such good gifts, he can tell you almost all the stories of the Book of Martyrs, and speak you all the Sick Man’s Salve[112] without book.
To. Ay, if he had had grace—he was brought up where it grew, I wis. On, Master Wolf. 61
Wo. And he has converted one Fangs, a sergeant, a fellow could neither write nor read; he was called the Bandog o’ the Counter; and he has brought him already to pare his nails and say his prayers; and ’tis hoped he will sell his place shortly, and become an intelligencer.
To. No more; I am coming already. If I should give any farther care I were taken. Adieu, good Master Wolf. Son, I do feel mine own weaknesses; do not importune me. Pity is a rheum that I am subject to; but I will resist it. Master Wolf, fish is cast away that is cast in dry pools. Tell hypocrisy it will not do; I have touched and tried too often; I am yet proof, and I will remain so; when the sessions come they shall hear from me. In the meantime, to all suits, to all entreaties, to all letters, to all tricks, I will be deaf as an adder, and blind as a beetle, lay mine ear to the ground, and lock mine eyes i’ my hand, against all temptations. 78
[Exit.
Go. You see, Master Wolf, how inexorable he is. There is no hope to recover him. Pray you commend me to my brother knight, and to my fellow Francis; present ’hem with this small token of my love; tell ’hem, I wish I could do ’hem any worthier office; but in this, ’tis desperate: yet I will not fail to try the uttermost of my power for ’hem. And, sir, as far as I have any credit with you, pray you let ’hem want nothing; though I am not ambitious they should know so much. 87
Wo. Sir, both your actions and words speak you to be a true gentleman. They shall know only what is fit, and no more.
[Exeunt.
[111]
The Knight’s Ward, the Twopenny Ward, and the
Hole were different divisions of a prison: see Fenner’s
Compter’s Commonwealth, 1617. Sir Petronel showed his
humility by choosing the inferior accommodation of the
Knight’s Ward when it was open to him to lie of the
Master’s side. Cf. Westward Ho, iii. 2:—
“Monopoly. Which is the dearest ward in prison,
Sergeant? the Knight’s Ward?
Ambush. No, sir, the Master’s side.”
[112] A treatise by Thomas Becon, originally published in 1561. It was very popular, and is frequently mentioned by the dramatists.
SCENE III.
The Compter.
Enter Holdfast and Bramble.
Ho. Who would you speak with, sir?
Br. I would speak with one Security, that is prisoner here.
Ho. Y’are welcome, sir. Stay there, I’ll call him to you. Master Security!
Sec. Who calls?
Ho. Here’s a gentleman would speak with you.
Sec. What is he? Is’t one that grafts my forehead now I am in prison, and comes to see how the horns shoot up and prosper? 10
Ho. You must pardon him, sir; the old man is a little crazed with his imprisonment.
Sec. What say you to me, sir? Look you here.—My learned counsel, Master Bramble! cry you mercy, sir! When saw you my wife?
Br. She is now at my house, sir; and desired me that I would come to visit you, and inquire of you your case, that we might work some means to get you forth. 18
Sec. My case,[113] Master Bramble, is stone walls and iron grates; you see it, this is the weakest part on’t. And for getting me forth, no means but hang myself, and so to be carried forth, from which they have here bound me in intolerable bands.
Br. Why, but what is’t you are in for, sir?
Sec. For my sins, for my sins, sir, whereof marriage is the greatest. O, had I never married, I had never known this purgatory, to which hell is a kind of cool bath in respect; my wife’s confederacy, sir, with old Touchstone, that she might keep her jubilee and the feast of her new moon. Do you understand me, sir? 30
Qu. Good sir, go in and talk with him. The light does him harm, and his example will be hurtful to the weak prisoners. Fie! father Security, that you’ll be still so profane! Will nothing humble you?
[Exeunt Security, Bramble, and Holdfast.[114]
Enter two Prisoners, with a Friend.
Fr. What’s he?
1st Pr. O, he is a rare young man! Do you not know him?
Fr. Not I. I never saw him, I can remember.
2nd Pr. Why, it is he that was the gallant prentice of London—Master Touchstone’s man. 40
Fr. Who?—Quicksilver?
1st Pr. Ay, this is he.
Fr. Is this he? They say he has been a gallant indeed.
1st Pr. O, the royallest fellow that ever was bred up i’ the city! He would play you his thousand pound a-night at dice; keep knights’ and lords’ company; go with them to bawdy-houses; had his six men in a livery; kept a stable of hunting-horses, and his wench in her velvet gown and her cloth of silver. Here’s one knight with him here in prison. 51
Fr. And how miserably he is changed!
1st Pr. O, that’s voluntary in him: he gave away all his rich clothes as soon as ever he came in here among the prisoners; and will eat o’ the basket,[115] for humility.
Fr. Why will he do so?
1st Pr. Alas, he has no hope of life! He mortifies himself. He does but linger on till the sessions.
2nd Pr. O, he has penned the best thing, that he calls his Repentance or his Last Farewell, that ever you heard. He is a pretty poet; and for prose—you would wonder how many prisoners he has helped out, with penning petitions for ’hem, and not take a penny. Look! this is the knight in the rug gown. Stand by. 64
Enter[116] Sir Petronel and Bramble.
Br. Sir, for Security’s case, I have told him. Say he should be condemned to be carted or whipt for a bawd, or so, why, I’ll lay an execution on him o’ two hundred pound; let him acknowledge a judgment, he shall do it in half an hour; they shall not at all fetch him out without paying the execution, o’ my word. 70
Pe. But can we not be bailed, Master Bramble?
Br. Hardly; there are none of the judges in town, else you should remove yourself (in spite of him) with a habeas corpus. But if you have a friend to deliver your tale sensibly to some justice o’ the town, that he may have feeling of it (do you see), you may be bailed; for as I understand the case, ’tis only done in terrorem; and you shall have an action of false imprisonment against him when you come out, and perhaps a thousand pound costs. 80
Enter Master Wolf.
Qu. How now, Master Wolf?—what news?—what return?
Wo. ’Faith, bad all: yonder will be no letters received. He says the sessions shall determine it. Only, Master Deputy Golding commends him to you, and with this token wishes he could do you other good.
Qu. I thank him. Good Master Bramble, trouble our quiet no more; do not molest us in prison thus, with your winding devices; pray you depart. For my part, I commit my cause to Him that can succour me; let God work His will. Master Wolf, I pray you let this be distributed among the prisoners, and desire ’hem to pray for us. 93
Wo. It shall be done, Master Francis.
1st Pr. An excellent temper!
2nd Pr. Now God send him good luck!
[Exeunt[117] two Prisoners and Friend.
Pe. But what said my father-in-law, Master Wolf?
Enter Holdfast.
Ho. Here’s one would speak with you, sir.
Wo. I’ll tell you anon, Sir Petronel; who is’t?
Ho. A gentleman, sir, that will not be seen. 100
Wo. Where is he? Master Deputy! your worship is welcome——
Go. Peace!
Wo. Away, sirrah!
[Exit[118] Bramble.
Go. Good faith, Master Wolf, the estate of these gentlemen, for whom you were so late and willing a suitor, doth much affect me; and because I am desirous to do them some fair office, and find there is no means to make my father relent so likely as to bring him to be a spectator of their miseries, I have ventured on a device, which is, to make myself your prisoner: entreating you will presently go report it to my father, and (feigning an action at suit of some third person) pray him by this token, that he will presently, and with all secrecy, come hither for my bail; which train, if any, I know will bring him abroad; and then, having him here, I doubt not but we shall be all fortunate in the event. 117
Wo. Sir, I will put on my best speed to effect it. Please you come in.
Go. Yes; and let me rest concealed, I pray you.
Wo. See here a benefit truly done, when it is done timely, freely, and to no ambition.
[Exeunt.
[113] Covering.
[114] Here and elsewhere there is no stage-direction in the old ed.
[115] The basket containing the broken victuals collected for the poor prisoners.
[116] Old ed. “Enter Sir Petronel, Bramble, Quicksilver, Wolf.”
[117] The stage-direction in old ed. is simply “Exeunt.”
[118] I give this stage-direction at a venture.
Goldsmiths’ Row.
Enter Touchstone, Mistress Touchstone, Gertrude, Mildred, Sindefy, and Winifred.
To. I will sail by you, and not hear you, like the wise Ulysses.
Mi. Dear father!
Mist. T. Husband!
Ge. Father!
Wi. and Si. Master Touchstone!
To. Away, sirens! I will immure myself against your cries, and lock myself up to your lamentations.
Mist. T. Gentle husband, hear me!
Ge. Father, it is I, father; my Lady Flash. My sister and I am friends. 11
Mi. Good father!
Wi. Be not hardened, good Master Touchstone!
Si. I pray you, sir, be merciful!
To. I am deaf; I do not hear you; I have stopped mine ears with shoemakers’ wax, and drunk Lethe and mandragora[119] to forget you. All you speak to me I commit to the air.
Enter Wolf.
Mi. How now, Master Wolf?
Wo. Where’s Master Touchstone? I must speak with him presently; I have lost my breath for haste. 21
Mi. What is the matter, sir? Pray all be well!
Wo. Master Deputy Golding is arrested upon an execution, and desires him presently to come to him, forthwith.
Mi. Ay me! do you hear, father?
To. Tricks, tricks, confederacy, tricks! I have ’hem in my nose—I scent ’hem!
Wo. Who’s that? Master Touchstone?
Mist. T. Why, it is Master Wolf himself, husband. 30
Mi. Father!
To. I am deaf still, I say. I will neither yield to the song of the siren nor the voice of the hyena,[120] the tears of the crocodile nor the howling o’ the Wolf. Avoid my habitation, monsters!
Wo. Why, you are not mad, sir? I pray you look forth, and see the token I have brought you, sir.
To. Ha! what token is it?
Wo. Do you know it, sir?
To. My son Golding’s ring! Are you in earnest, Master Wolf? 41
Wo. Ay, by my faith, sir. He is in prison, and required me to use all speed and secrecy to you.
To. My cloak, there (pray you be patient). I am plagued for my austerity. My cloak! At whose suit, Master Wolf?
Wo. I’ll tell you as we go, sir.
[Exeunt.