Bright, Newcut, Plotwell, Roseclap, hanging
out the picture of a strange fish.[221]
Bright. 'Fore Jove, the captain fox'd[222] him rarely.
Rose. O sir,
He is used to it: this is the fifth fish now
That he hath shown thus. One got him twenty pound.
New. How, Roseclap?
Rose. Why the captain kept him, sir,
A whole week drunk, and show'd him twice a-day.
New. It could not be like this.
Rose. Faith, I do grant
This is the strangest fish. Yon I have hung
His other picture in the fields, where some
Say 'tis an o'ergrown porpoise; others say
'Tis the fish caught in Cheshire; one, to whom
The rest agree, said 'twas a mermaid.
Plot. 'Slight!
Roseclap shall have a patent of him. The birds
Brought from Peru, the hairy wench,[223] the camel,
The elephant, dromedaries, or Windsor Castle,
The woman with dead flesh, or she that washes,
Threads needles, writes, dresses her children, plays
O' th' virginals with her feet, could never draw
People like this.
New. O, that his father were
At home to see him!
Plot. Or his mother come,
Who follows strange sights out of town, and went
To Brentford to a motion.
Bright. Bid the captain hasten,
Or he'll recover, and spoil all.
Rose. They're here!
SCENE II.
Enter Quartfield and Salewit, dressed like two
trumpeters, keeping the door; Mistress Seathrift
and Mistress Holland, with a 'prentice
before 'em, as comers-in.
Quart. Bear back there!
Sale. Pray you, do not press so hard.
Quart. Make room for the two gentlewomen.
Mis. Sea. What is't?
Sale. Twelvepence apiece.
Mis. Hol. We will not give't.
Quart. Make room for them that will, then.
Plot. O fortune, here's his mother!
Bright. And who's the other?
Plot. One Mistress Holland, the
Great sempstress on the Exchange.
Mis. Hol. We gave but a groat
To see the last fish.
Quart. Gentlewoman, that
Was but an Irish sturgeon.
Sale. This came from
The Indies, and eats five crowns a day in fry,
Ox-livers, and brown paste.
Mis. Sea. Well, there's three shillings.
Pray, let us have good places now.
Quart. Bear back there!
Mis. Hol. Look, Mistress Seathrift, here be gentlemen.
Sure, 'tis a rare fish.
Mis. Sea. I know one of 'em.
Mis. Hol. And so do I; his sister was my 'prentice.
Mis. Sea. Let's take acquaintance with him.
Plot. Mistress Seathrift,
Hath the sight drawn you hither?
Mis. Sea. Yes, sir, I
And Mistress Holland here, my gossip, pass'd
This way, and so call'd in. Pray, Master Plotwell,
Is not my son here? I was told he went
With you this morning.
Plot. You shall see him straight.
Mis. Hol. When will the fish begin, sir?
Bright. Heart! she makes him a puppet-play.
Plot. Why, now, they only stay
For company, 't has sounded twice.[224]
Mis. Sea. Indeed
I long to see this fish. I wonder whether
They will cut up his belly; they say a tench
Will make him whole again.
Mis. Hol. Look, Mistress Seathrift, what claws he has!
Mis. Sea. For all the world like crabs.
Mis. Hol. Nay, mark his feet too.
Mis. Sea. For all the world like plaice.
Bright. Was ever better sport heard?
New. Prythee, peace.
Mis. Hol. Pray, can you read that? Sir, I warrant
That tells where it was caught, and what fish 'tis.
Plot. Within this place is to be seen
A wondrous fish. God save the queen.
Mis. Hol. Amen! she is my customer, and I
Have sold her bone-lace often.
Bright. Why, the queen? 'Tis writ the king.
Plot. That was to make the rhyme.
Bright. 'Slid, thou didst read it, as 'twere some picture of
An Elizabeth-fish.[225]
Quart. Bear back there!
Sale. Make room! you
Friend, that were going to cut a purse there, make
Way for the two old gentlemen to pass.
Enter Warehouse and Seathrift disguised.
Ware. What must we give?
Quart. We take a shilling, sir.
Sale. It is no less.
Sea. Pray God your fish be worth it.
What, is't a whale, you take so dear?
Quart. It is a fish taken in the Indies.
Ware. Pray despatch then, and show't us quickly.
Sale. Pray, forbear: you'd have your head broke, cobbler.
Ware. Yonder is my nephew in his old gallantry.
Sea. Who's there too? my wife
And Mistress Holland! Nay, I look'd for them.
But where's my wise son?
Ware. Mass, I see not him.
Quart. Keep out, sir.
Sale. Waterman, you must not enter.
[Cypher presses in like a waterman.
Quart. This is no place for scullers.
Cyph. I must needs speak
With one Master Plotwell——
Quart. You must stay.
Sale. Thrust him out.
Cyph. ——and one Master Seathrift
On urgent business.
Sale. They are yet employ'd
In weightier affairs. Make fast the door.
[They thrust him out.
Quart. There shall no more come in. Come in, boy.
Sea. Don't they speak as if my son were in the room?
Ware. Yes, pray observe and mark them.
Quart. Gentlemen
And gentlewomen, you now shall see a sight
Europe never show'd the like. Behold this fish!
[Draws a curtain; behind it Timothy asleep
like a strange fish.
Mis. Hol. O Strange! Look How It Sleeps!
Bright. Just like a salmon upon a stall in Fish
Street.
Mis. Sea. How it snorts too! just like my husband.
Ware. 'Tis very like a man.
Sea. 'T has such a nose and eyes.
Sale. Why, 'tis, a man-fish;
An ocean centaur, begot between a siren
And a he stock-fish.
Sea. Pray, where took ye him?
Quart. We took him strangely in the Indies, near
The mouth of Rio de la Plata, asleep
Upon the shore, just as you see him now.
Mis. Hol. How say ye, asleep!
Ware. How! Would he come to land?
Sea. 'Tis strange a fish should leave his element!
Quart. Ask him what things the country told us.
Sale. You
Will scarce believe it now. This fish would walk you
Two or three mile o' th' shore sometimes; break houses,
Ravish a naked wench or two (for there
Women go naked), then run to sea again.
Quart. The country has been laid,[226] and warrants granted
To apprehend him.
Ware. I do suspect these fellows:
They lie as if they had patent for it.
Sea. The company,
Should every one believe his part, would scarce
Have faith enough among us.
Ware. Mark again.
Sale. The States of Holland would have bought him of us,
Out of a great design.
Sea. Indeed!
Sale. They offer'd a thousand dollars.
Quart. You cannot enter yet. [Some knock.
Ware. Indeed! so much! Pray, what to do?
Sale. Why, sir,
They were in hope, in time, to make this fish
Of faction 'gainst the Spaniard, and do service
Unto the state.
Sea. As how?
Sale. Why, sir, next plate-fleet,
To dive, bore holes i'th' bottom of their ships,
And sink them. You must think a fish like this
May be taught Machiavel, and made a state-fish.
Plot. As dogs are taught to fetch.
New. Or elephants to dance on ropes.
Bright. And, pray, what honour would
The states have given him for the service?
Quart. That, sir, is uncertain.
Sale. Ha' made him some sea-count; or, 't may be, admiral.
Plot. Then, sir, in time,
Dutch authors, that writ Mare Liberum,[227]
Might dedicate their books to him?
Sale. Yes, being
A fish advanc'd, and of great place. Sing, boy!
You now shall hear a song upon him.
Bright. Listen.
New. Do they not act it rarely?
Plot. If 'twere their trade, they could not do it better.
Sea. Hear you that, sir?
Ware. Still I suspect.
Mis. Hol. I warrant you, this fish
Will shortly be in a ballad.
Sale. Begin, boy.
Song.
We show no monstrous crocodile,
Nor any prodigy of Nile;
No Remora that stops your fleet,[228]
Like serjeants gallants in the street;
No sea-horse which can trot or pace,
Or swim false galop, post, or race:
For crooked dolphins we not care,
Though on their back a fiddler were:
The like to this fish, which we show,
Was ne'er in Fish Street, old or new;
Nor ever serv'd to th' sheriff's board,
Or kept in souse for the Mayor Lord.
Had old astronomers but seen
This fish, none else in heaven had been.
Mis. Hol. The song has waken'd him; look, he stirs!
Tim. O captain, pox—take—you—captain.
Mis. Sea. Hark, he speaks!
Tim. O—my—stomach——
Ware. How's this?
Sea. I'll pawn my life, this is imposture.
Tim. O, O——
Plot. Heart! the captain did not give him his full load.
Ware. Can your fish
Speak, friends? The proverb says they're mute.
Quart. I'll tell you,
You will admire how docile he is, and how
He'll imitate a man: tell him your name,
He will repeat it after you; he has heard me
Call'd captain, and my fellow[s] curse sometimes,
And now you heard him say, pox-take-you, captain.
Sale. And yesterday, I but complain'd my stomach
Was overcharg'd, and how he minds it!
New. Strange!
Bright. Ay, is it not?
Plot. The towardness of a fish!
Sale. Would you think, when we caught him, he should speak
Drake, Drake?[229]
Bright. And did he?
Quart. Yes, and Hawkins;[230]
A sign he was a fish that swam there when
These two compass'd the world.
New. How should he learn their names, I wonder?
New. That may be.
Quart. He'll call for drink, like me, or anything
He lacks.
Tim. O Gad, my head——
Quart. D'you hear him?
Tim. O hostess, a basin——
Plot. 'Slid, he'll spew.
Bright. No matter.
Quart. Nay, I have seen him fox'd, and then maintain
A drunken dialogue.
Mis. Hol. Lord, how I long
To hear a little! Pray try him with some questions;
Will you, my friend?
Quart. Sometimes he will be sullen,
And make no answers.
Sale. That is when he's anger'd,
Or kept from drink long.
Quart. But I'll try him.
Mis. Sea. To see what creatures may be brought to!
Quart. Tim, you are drunk.
Tim. Plague take you, captain. O—Lord, you made me——
Sea. 'Sdeath, my son's name! Tim do you call him?
Sale. He'll answer to no name but that.
Quart. And, Tim, what think you of a wench now?
Tim. O, I am sick; where is she? O——
Sea. I'll lay my life, this fish is some confederate rogue.
Quart. I drink to you, Timothy, in sack.
Tim. O, O!
Quart. A health, Tim.
Tim. I can drink no more,—O!
Sale. What, not pledge your mistress!
Tim. O, let me alone.
Sale. He is not in the mood now;
Sometimes you'd wonder at him.
Quart. He is tired
With talking all this day. That, and the heat
Of company about him, dull him.
Ware. Surely,
My friends, it is to me a miracle
To hear a fish speak thus.
Quart. So, sirs, 't has been
To thousands more.
Sale. Come now next Michaelmas,
'Tis five year we have shown him in most courts
In Christendom; and you will not believe,
How with mere travelling and observation
He has improved himself, and brought away
The language of the country.
Sea. May not I ask him
Some questions?
Quart. Sir, you may; but he
Will answer none but one of us.
Mis. Sea. He's used, and knows their voices.
[Knocking at door.
Sale. He is so, mistress. Now, we'll open door.
Ware. Well, my belief doth tell me
There is a mist before our eyes.
Mis. Sea. I mar'l
My wise son miss'd this show.
Quart. Good people, we
Do show no more to-day: if you desire
[They draw the curtain before him.
To see, come to us in King Street to-morrow.
Mis. Hol. Come, gossip, let us go; the fish is done.
Mis. Sea. By your leave, gentlemen. Truly, 'tis a dainty fish.[231]
[Exit Mistress Seathrift, Mistress Holland,
and 'Prentice.
SCENE III.
Enter Cypher, like a Waterman.
Cyph. Pray, which is Master Plotwell?
Plot. I am he, friend;
What is your business?
Cyph. Sir, I should speak
With young Master Seathrift too.
Plot. Sir, at this time,
Although no crab, like you, to swim backward, he is
Of your element.
Cyph. Upon the water?
Plot. No,
But something that lives in't. If you but stay
Till he have slept himself a land-creature, you may
Chance see him come ashore here.
Tim. O—my head—
O—Captain—Master Francis—Captain—O——
Plot. That is his voice, sir.
Sea. Death o' my soul! my son!
Cyph. He is in drink, sir, is he?
Plot. Surely, friend, you are a witch;[232] he is so.
Cyph. Then I must tell the news to you: 'tis sad.
Plot. I'll hear't as sadly.
Cyph. Your uncle, sir, and Master Seathrift are
Both drown'd, some eight miles below Greenwich.
Plot. Drown'd!
Cyph. They went i' th' tilt-boat, sir, and I was one
O' th' oars that rowed him: a coal-ship did o'errun us.
I 'scaped by swimming; the two old gentlemen
Took hold of one another, and sunk together.
Bright. How some men's prayers are heard!
We did invoke
The sea this morning, and see, the Thames has took 'em.
Plot. It cannot be: such good news, gentlemen,
Cannot be true.
Ware. 'Tis very certain, sir.
'Twas talk'd upon th' Exchange.
Sea. We heard it too
In Paul's now, as we came.
Plot. There, friend, there is
A fare for you. I'm glad you 'scap'd; I had
Not known the news so soon else. [Gives him money.
Cyph. Sir, excuse me.
Plot. Sir, it is conscience; I do believe you might
Sue me in Chancery.
Cyph. Sir, you show the virtues of an heir.
Ware. Are you rich Warehouse's heir, sir?
Plot. Yes, sir, his transitory pelf,
And some twelve hundred pound a year in earth,
Is cast on me. Captain, the hour is come,
You shall no more drink ale, of which one draught
Makes cowards, and spoils valour; nor take off
Your moderate quart-glass. I intend to have
A musket for you, or glass-cannon, with
A most capacious barrel, which we'll charge
And discharge with the rich valiant grape
Of my uncle's cellar. Every charge shall fire
The glass, and burn itself i' th' filling, and look
Like a piece going off.
Quart. I shall be glad
To give thanks for you, sir, in pottle-draughts,
And shall love Scotch coal for this wreck the better,
As long as I know fuel.
Plot. Then my poet
No longer shall write catches or thin sonnets,
Nor preach in verse, as if he were suborn'd
By him that wrote the Whip,[233] to pen lean acts,
And so to overthrow the stage for want
Of salt or wit. Nor shall he need torment
Or persecute his Muse; but I will be
His god of wine t' inspire him. He shall no more
Converse with the five-yard butler who, like thunder,
Can turn beer with his voice, and roar it sour;
But shall come forth a Sophocles, and write
Things for the buskin. Instead of Pegasus,
To strike a spring with's hoof, we'll have a steel
Which shall but touch a butt, and straight shall flow
A purer, higher, wealthier Helicon.
Sale. Frank, thou shalt be my Phœbus. My next poem
Shall be thy uncle's tragedy, or the life
And death of two rich merchants.
Plot. Gentlemen,
And now, i' faith, what think you of the fish?
Ware. Why as we ought, sir, strangely.
Bright. But do you think it is a very fish?
New. 'Tis a man.
Plot. This valiant captain and this man of wit
First fox'd him, then transformed him. We will wake him,
And tell him the news. Ho, Master Timothy!
Tim. Plague take you, captain!
Plot. What, does your sack work still?
Tim. Where am I?
Plot. Come, y' have slept enough.
Bright. Master Timothy!
How, in the name of fresh cod, came you chang'd
Into a sea-calf thus?
New. 'Slight, sir, here be
Two fishmongers to buy you; bate the price,
Now y' are awake, yourself.
Tim. How's this? my hands
Transmuted into claws? my feet made flounders?
Array'd in fins and scales? Aren't you
Asham'd to make me such a monster? Pray,
Help to undress me.
Plot. We have rare news for you.
Tim. No letter from the lady, I hope.
Plot. Your father
And my grave uncle, sir, are cast away.
Tim. How?
Plot. They by this have made a meal
For jacks and salmon: they are drown'd.
Bright. Fall down,
And worship sea-coals; for a ship of them
Has made you, sir, an heir.
Plot. This fellow here
Brings the auspicious news: and these two friends
Of ours confirm it.
Cyph. 'Tis too true, sir.
Tim. Well,
We are all mortal; but in what wet case
Had I been now, if I had gone with him!
Within this fortnight I had been converted
Into some pike; you might ha' cheapen'd me
In Fish Street; I had made an ordinary,
Perchance, at the Mermaid.[234] Now could I cry
Like any image in a fountain, which
Runs lamentations. O my hard misfortune! [He feigns to weep.
Sea. Fie, sir! good truth, it is not manly in you
To weep for such a slight loss as a father.
Tim. I do not cry for that.
Sea. No?
Tim. No, but to think,
My mother is not drown'd too.
Sea. I assure you,
And that's a shrewd mischance.
Tim. For then might I
Ha' gone to th' counting-house, and set at liberty
Those harmless angels, which for many years
Have been condemn'd to darkness.
Plot. You'd not do
Like your penurious father, who was wont
To walk his dinner out in Paul's, whilst you
Kept Lent at home, and had, like folk in sieges,
Your meals weigh'd to you.
New. Indeed they say he was
A monument of Paul's.
Tim. Yes, he was there
As constant as Duke Humphrey.[235] I can show
The prints where he sat holes i' th' logs.
Plot. He wore
More pavement out with walking than would make
A row of new stone-saints, and yet refused
To give to th' reparation.[236]
Bright. I've heard
He'd make his jack go empty to cosen neighbours.
Plot. Yes, when there was not fire enough to warm
A mastich-patch t' apply to his wife's temples,
In great extremity of toothache. This is
True, Master Timothy, is't not?
Tim. Yes: then linen
To us was stranger than to Capuchins.
My flesh is of an order with wearing shirts
Made of the sacks that brought o'er cochineal,
Copperas, and indigo. My sister wears
Smocks made of currant-bags.
Sea. I'll not endure it:
Let's show ourselves. [Aside.
Ware. Stay: hear all first. [Aside.
New. Thy uncle was such another.
Plot. I have heard
He still last left th' Exchange; and would commend
The wholesomeness o' th' air in Moorfields, when
The clock struck three sometimes.
Plot. Surely myself,
Cypher, his factor, and an ancient cat
Did keep strict diet, had our Spanish fare,
Four olives among three. My uncle would
Look fat with fasting; I ha' known him surfeit
Upon a bunch of raisins, swoon at sight
Of a whole joint, and rise an epicure
From half an orange. [They undisguise.
Ware. Gentlemen, 'tis false.
Cast off your cloud. D'ye know me, sir?
Plot. My uncle!
Sea. And do you know me, sir?
Tim. My father!
Ware. Nay,
We'll open all the plot; reveal yourself.
Plot. Cypher, the waterman!
Quart. Salewit, away!
I feel a tempest coming.
[Exit Quartfield and Salewit.