YALE STUDIES IN ENGLISH ALBERT S. COOK, Editor XXV BARTHOLOMEW FAIR BY BEN JONSON EDITED WITH INTRODUCTION, NOTES, AND GLOSSARY BY CARROLL STORRS ALDEN, Ph.D. Instructor in English and Law in the United States Naval Academy NEW YORK HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 1904 YALE STUDIES IN ENGLISH ALBERT S. COOK, Editor XXV BARTHOLOMEW FAIR BY BEN JONSON EDITED WITH INTRODUCTION, NOTES, AND GLOSSARY BY CARROLL STORRS ALDEN, Ph.D. Instrtictor in English and Law in the United States Naval Academy NEW YORK HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 1904 77? 5.^"^ lUEFIAHYof CONo V Two Couias tidCcivea DlC 30 iyu4 Copyiitiiii ciiuy 0U4SS Qy aXc. Noi ■-^.- Copyright 1904 by Carroll Storrs Alden « e PREFACE Bartholomew Fair has a twofold interest. It furnishes a picture, inimitable in its varied realism, of one of the most characteristic scenes of Elizabethan London. It also reflects not a little the personality of Jonson as he moved, a man among men, and enjoyed to the full the rough, hearty life of the middle and lower classes of the metropolis. Consequently, though the play is not artistic in the highest sense, and is avowedly light in character, it holds a place of importance in Jonson's work and in the Elizabethan drama. Of the playwrights of his time, Jonson especially made London his province; and of all his plays Bartholomew Fair is the most local in atmosphere. This quality, though constituting the chief excellence of the comedy, is to-day the greatest hindrance to an intelligent appreciation of it. Accordingly, in the Introduction and the Notes I have dwelt particularly on what concerned the life and thought of the people. In such a study contemporary literature, as well as later scholarship, is of course invaluable, and much of the Introduction and Notes will be found to be but a restate- ment, and a bringing together, of what is not new, nor altogether unfamiliar. My aim has been to present data of unquestionable authority, and to make easy of access iv Preface materials which will assist the scholar to enter into the spirit of London and of the Smithfield Fair at the time of our play. A portion of the expense of printing this thesis has been borne by the Modern Language Club of Yale University from funds placed at its disposal by the generosity of Mr. George E. Dimock, of Elizabeth, New Jersey, a graduate of Yale in the Class of 1874. CONTENTS I. Introduction 1. Editions of the Text 2. The Annual Bartholomew Fair PAGE vii vii X 3. Jonson's Bartholomew Fair: its General Features . . . . . . xii 4. Jonson's Satire hi the Puritans . . . xx II. Text . III. Notes . IV. Glossary V. Bibliography VI. Index . • 135 . 222 . 229 • 233 INTRODUCTION I. Editions of the Text. The only edition of Bartholomew Fair of real importance is that of the second volume of the first folio of Jonson's Works, the title-pages in which are dated 1631, 1640, or 1641. This volume has caused not a little confusion to scholars, because it is made up of several parts originally designed for separate sale, and variously arranged in dif- ferent copies. Thus Miss Bates in her English Drama^ gives the date of the second volume of the first folio as 1631, reprinted in 1640, and again in 1641 ; and Ward in his History of the English Drama^ gives the same. But Brinsley Nicholson,^ after a careful collation, comes to the conclusion that although title-pages in different copies vary, and certain minor dissimilarities occur, these three volumes belong to the same edition. Hazlitt* re-affirms this. As the copy of the Yale Library on which the present work is based differs in several particulars from the copies collated by Nicholson and Hazlitt, it has seemed worth while to give a somewhat detailed collation. There is no general title-page, although in some copies that of the first volume of the 1640 folio is inserted.^ Folio. Signatures in fours. I. Bartholomew Fair has a title-page as follows : BARTHOLMEW | FAYRE: | ACOMEDIE, | ACTED IN THE 1 YEARE, 1614. | By the Lady ELIZABETHS \ SERVANTS. | And then dedicated ^p. 78. *2. 296. ' Notes and Queries, 4th Series, 5. 573. * Bibliographical Collections and Notes (1882), 320. "Cf. Hazlitt. viii Introduction to King lAMES, of | most Blessed Memorie; \ By the Author, BENIAMIN lOHNSON. | St foret in terris, rideret Democritus : nam Spectaret populum ludis attentius ipsis, Vt sibi prcebentem, minio spectacula plura. Scriptores autem narrare putaret assello Fabellam surdo. Hor. lib. 2. Epist. I. LONDON, I Printed by /. B. for ROBERT ALLOT, and are | to be sold at the signe of the Beare, in Pauls \ Church- yard. 1 63 1. I Following the quotation from Horace there is a woodcut with device of a wolf's head, erased, etc. Verso of t. p. is blank. This is the first of five leaves preceding B, the second marked A3, the others without signature or pagina- tion. The Prologue to the Kings Majesty, A3 : verso. The Persons of the Play. The Induction occupies the next six pages. The play begins B, p. i, and ends M, p. 88. Following Bartholomew Fair are : 2. The Staple of News, Aa, [p. i], changed after Cc2 to a single letter, — I, [p. y6] ; I has six leaves. 3. The Devil is an Ass, [N, p. 91] — Y, p. 170. The pagination and signatures indicate that this should have followed immediately after Bartholomew Fair. Pp. 89, 90, between the plays, are omitted. These three plays have separate t. pp., and were printed by I. B. for Robert Allot, 1631. Hazlitt says they are usually found in a volume together, and that they were doubtless intended by Jonson to supplement the folio of 1616. 4. Christmas, his Masque, etc., no t. p., Underzvoods, t. p. London, Printed MDCXL, and Mortimer, t. p. Printed MDCXL: B, p. i — Qq, p. 292. R, Y, and Pp have each but two leaves. There are also a few irregularities in the pagination of this and some of the following sections of the folio. 5. Horace, the English Grammar, t. pp. Printed MDCXL, and Timber, t. p. London, Printed MDCXLI: [A], p. i— R, p. 132. L has but two leaves. Introduction ix 6. The Magnetic Lady, A Tale of a Tub, t. pp. London, Printed MCDXL, and The Sad Shepherd, t. p. London, Printed MDCXLI : [A, p. i]— V, p. 155. Q has but two leaves. Pp. 70-79 are repeated, while pp. 123-132 are omitted in the pagination. Other editions of lesser importance are: the folio of 1692;^ a booksellers' edition, 1716; Whalley's, 1756; Gif- ford's, 1816; Cunning-ham's Gifford's, 1875. Whalley's edition was reprinted together with Beaumont and Fletcher's plays in 181 1, and Gifford's text has appeared again in the Mermaid Series. The latter call for no consideration, and the others can be dismissed with a few words. The folio of 1692 is a not over-careful reprint of the 1631 text, with changes in spelling, capitalization, etc. The 17 16 edition reproduces the 1692 folio with certain inaccuracies of its own. In Whalley's edition, 1756, we have the first pro- fessedly critical text. But the result is disappointing. As Gifford has noted,^ Whalley based his work on the book- sellers' edition of 1716, and thus several errors of the latter were again presented to the public. With much more vigor and independence Gifford approached the same task. But he takes some undue liberties, makes certain changes that can be ascribed only to carelessness, and at times is in error because of consulting Whalley instead of the early text. Much of this will be evident on reference to the variants of the text in this volume. It should be added, however, that the aim has been to include only the most important, and that although a few unmistakable errors, characteristic of the different editions, are given, those due to carelessness are commonly omitted. Bartholomeiv Fair was produced in 1614. That it should not have been included in the foHo of 1616, has caused occasional comment, yet is not strange, as popular plays ^ For collation and detailed criticism of these editions, see Hatha- way, Alchemist, 4-12. 2 Cun. G. ed. i. clxxxiii. X Introduction were often withheld many .years from the press. It was first pubHshed in the 1631-41 folio, and, like the other parts of that volume, does not exhibit the nice workmanship of the earlier folio. It is improbable that Jonson revised it ; but that it was brought out surreptitiously, as Gifford con- jectured, is proved untrue by Jonson's letter regarding the printing of the play.^ In the text which I submit as the basis of my study, I have painstakingly followed in spelling, capitalization, and punctuation, the folio of 1631-41. This was suggested by the example of Dr. Horace H. Furness in the Variorum Shakespeare, who, after carefully constructing a text for each of his earlier volumes, at length decided to reproduce the text of the first Shakespeare folio. The reasons which he adduced in support of his later method^ apply with equal force to Bartholomew Fair. And it is hoped that by repro- ducing the original text of this play, even with all the 'barbarities', as Gififord termed them, the student may be aided in forming a more independent judgment, as well as in coming nearer to Jonson. 2. The Annual Bartholomew Fair. Jonson's play is a realistic portrayal of the Fair held at Smithfield, London ; and one of the greatest helps to a knowledge of either the Fair or the play, is an acquaintance with the other. For completeness, then, the present work should include a history of the Fair from its founding in the twelfth century to its decay and final dissolution, seven hundred and thirty years later. But such a history has been written by Henry Morley, who had the great advantage of immediate access to manuscripts, tracts, bills, etc., some of which were published expressly for the Fair, and of course are invaluable for their record of its varied and ' See Note on /. B. of the Title-page. 'See Preface to Othello (Var. Ed.), pp. V, VI. Introduction xi eventful life. So that, alluring though the Fair is, with its traditions of northern clothiers, horse-traders, roast pig, and rough and hearty amusements (many of which are com- mented on in the Notes), it seems sufficient at this point merely to name the work which will be found a rich store- house of information, Morley's Memoirs of Bartholomew Fair. Another useful book, though confessedly based on the Memoirs in the chapters relating to the London Fair, is Walford's Fairs, Past and Present. Magazine articles have also appeared from time to time, but they are of no value. As a suggestion of the long and varied history of Bar- tholomew Fair, I append the following dates : 1 102 Founding of the Priory of Bartholomew. 1 120 Bartholomew Fair established by Rayer. 1 133 First Charter, granted by Henry I. [ Many miracles. 1143) ^ I Charter granted by Henry H. 1305 William Wallace executed in the Fair. 1334 A new Charter, by Edward HI. 14004- Men and women sold at the Fair. Growing importance as a cloth fair. f Miracle plays. 1500 J 1539 Severed from the Church. 1546 Priory rights secured by Lord Rich. 1593 Suspended because of the plague. 1596 Composition of tolls, betwen Lord Rich and the City of London. 1598 Described by a German tutor, Paul Hentzner. 1603 Suspended because of the plague. 1614 Smithfield paved. The third Lord Rich, Lord of the Fair. Depicted by Ben Jonson at the Hope Theatre. 1625 Suspended because of the plague. 1630 Suspended because of the plague. 1647+ Many political tracts issued at it. 1661 Becomes a fourteen-day fair. xii Introduction ^„ f Visited by Samuel Pepys. 1664 Visited by John Locke. ,,^ [ Suspended because of the plague. 1678 First question of suppression raised by civic authorities. 1685 The tolls leased by the City to a sword-bearer for £100 a year. Its decay as a place of trade. 1694 Reduced to a three-day fair as formerly. 1697 Vicious plays suppressed by the Lord Mayor. Puppet-shows still flourish. f-\ Henry Fielding has a theatrical booth at which he acts. 1750+ Roast pig loses its popularity; beef sausage comes into vogue. 1762 More restrictions upon its liberties. 1769 Plays, puppet-shows, and gambling suppressed. 1792 Performances by political puppets. 1798 Its abolition again discussed by the Corporation of London. 1827 The Lord of the Fair's rights bought by the Corporation of London. 1839 Measures for suppression. 1855 Its last year. 3. Jonson's Bartholomew Fair: its General Features. While all of Jonson's early comedies had been at least moderately successful, and several much more than that, his later and more ambitious effort, Catiline, embodying long cherished and carefully elaborated theories, was an unmis- takable failure. Jonson was keenly disappointed at its reception. Being much too positive and self-confident to distrust his art, he quickly changed his estimate of the public. With a feeling not untouched with cynicism, he suddenly becomes aware of the 'jig-given times' in which he is living, where is 'so thick and dark an ignorance, as now almost covers the age.' In Catiline he had worked on the assumption that like himself the public was deeply interested in classical archse- Introduction xiii ology; he had conceived the masses to be hearers and readers 'extraordinary', whereas they proved themselves, beyond a question, very 'ordinary'. It is thus not strange that, oppressed with a sense of the futihty of his labor, he produced nothing for the next two years. Then followed Bartholomezv Fair, 'made to delight all and offend none,' It was thus a compromise, in which, recognizing that the Elizabethans were not scholars but fun-loving boys, he laid aside, as it were, the schoolman's gown, and presented 'a new sufficient play, . . . merry, and as full of noise as sport.' That he might not again write above the heads of his audience, he constructed this drama, he tells them with playful sarcasm in the Induction, according to 'the scale of the grounded judgments', just to their 'meridian' in wit. Bartholomew Fair was as popular as Catiline had been unpopular. And though we should undoubtedly incur the scorn of the author were he to hear three centuries later this admission of human weakness, our judgment agrees with that of the people. For lightly as Jonson regarded his task, Bartholomew Fair is a play of surpassing power. Ward is not blinded by enthusiasm when he characterizes it as 'of its kind . . . without a rival in our dramatic literature.'^ On the other hand, it does not aid in a true appreciation of this play to disregard its structural defects or to palliate its frequent coarseness. Leigh Hunt condemned it as 'full of the absolutest, and loathsomest, trash',^ a criticism which shows how strongly he was offended rather than how pene- trating was his insight. Much more discerning is Swin- burne's judgment: 'It must be confessed that some of the meat is too high and some of the sauces are too rank for any but a very strong digestion. But those who turn away from the table in sheer disgust at the coarseness of the fare will lose the enjoyment of some of the richest and strongest humor, some of the most brilliant and varied realism, that ever clairned the attention or excited the admiration of the study or the stage.'^ ^ Eng. Dram. Lit. 2. 371. * Hunt, Men, Women, and Books, 2. 13. * Swinburne, Study of Ben Jonson, 60. xiv Introduction Bartholomew Fair is the most farcical of Jonson's plays. There is, to be sure, an element of seriousness in the keen satire of the Puritan, which prevents it from being entirely a farce, but for the most part the play is given over to natural, rollicking fun. This varies all the way from the rough horse-play of Waspe's beating the Justice and the tragical destruction of Mrs. Overdo's French hood, to the highly respectable wooing of Grace Wellborn. The scenes are typical of London life, compressed and heightened as it naturally would be in the annual merry-making of Bar- tholomew Fair. The satire is less delicate, and the humorous situations less elaborate, than in Epicoene; but the fun is even more spontaneous and varied. The plot is noticeably slight. The interest is chiefly concerned with the picture of the old Fair, into which all the curious incidents that might happen among the hearty, pleasure-loving Londoners on Bartholomew Day are crowded. There is great diversity in the picture ; yet since each scene is so closely connected with the Fair, the latter gives it a certain unity. Notwithstanding the looseness of structure, which may be somewhat easily pardoned in S3 light a piece, there are to be noted evidences of careful workmanship. The unities of time and place are strictly observed. The action is included in one short day, beginning with the middle of the morning and ending in time for an invitation to supper. Aside from Act i, which is introductory, the scene is laid entirely in the outer portion of the Fair, where were the eating-booths, the puppet-shows, and the 'monsters' ; Act I is placed at Littlewit's home, within a few minutes' walk of the Fair. There are, further, certain threads of interest to be fol- lowed throughout the play. At the very beginning the attention is directed to the project devised by Winwife and Quarlous of making a wealthy match, in pursuit of which they are friendly rivals for the hand of Dame Purecraft as well as that of Grace Wellborn. A second interest is in the Introduction xv visit to the Fair of Cokes and his party (who might be desig- nated as the party of fools), and of Busy and his party (the party of hypocritical Puritans). A third interest centers in the disguised Justice Overdo seeking to discover the 'enor- mities' of the Fair ; he is comic because so serious, and thus rightly belongs to both parties. The action is largely episodic, and the conclusion is not inevitable. Yet there is a distinct climax at the end of Act 5, where, besides the successful tricks employed by Ouarlous and Winwife for making wealthy matches. Busy undertakes an argument with the puppets only to be miser- ably defeated, and Overdo, after a magnificent exordium, in which he calls upon all London to witness the discoveries about to be made in his zealous reforms, comes to a sudden and very embarrassing conclusion on finding his own wife among the chief offenders. The puppet-play of Act 5 is a seeming digression, and delays the action. But the idea of its introduction and the use finally made of it in the denouement, if we can overlook its extreme vulgarity, are undeniably clever ; no scene could be more characteristic of the Fair. Notwithstanduig the great and long continued popularity of the puppet-drama^ in England, extremely little of it has been preserved in literature. So far as I know, not one entire play given during Jonson's time is extant. The reason is evident.. As it was adapted especially for the amusement of the lower classes, the attention was given, not to the literary form, but to the common tricks calculated to catch the popular ear. Though the outline of the plot and * In England the puppet-plays, or 'motions,' as they were often called, had their origin in the service of religion, and are as old as the drama. They were early used to illustrate stories from the Bible and from the lives of the saints; later many of the morality-plays were thus produced. At the time of Jonson and for a century later, they had not lost entirely the influence of this religious asso- ciation. In the repertoire of Lanthorne Leatherhead (cf. Text, 106. 7 flf.), together with the secular City of Norwich and Gunpowder Plot, are mentioned Jerusalem, Sodom and Gomorrah, and Niniveh xvi Introduction somewhat more at times may have been written, the 'inter- preter' suited his words to the action, and freely followed the promptings of his wit. In the Modern History of Hero and Leander, the play which our friends in Bartholomew Fair attended, the plot first of all deserves attention. It begins with the amours of Hero and Leander, with whom is introduced a representa- tive of the rough and scurrilous Thames watermen. Damon and Pythias are next presented, but alas for the ancient tra- dition of their noble friendship! They chance both to be smitten with the fair Hero, and in most ignoble and unfriendly language blackguard each other ; but as the puppet-master in his own person addresses them in an uncomplimentary manner, they at once forget their dif- ferences, and turning upon the intruder, beat him violently according to the puppet-fashion. Hero, in the meantime, proves that she is indeed but a creature of earth, and, overcome by wine, is as amorous as Leander. Damon and Pythias come upon them kissing ; there ensues a general bandying of coarse and abusive epithets, and shortly a brawl in which Hero is shamefully kicked. The violence of the melee raises the ghost of Dionysius, who comes sadly to reprove Damon and Pythias. At his words the fight stops. What would have happened next, or how the play would have ended is beyond all telling — Busy rushes in at this moment and demands attention. As may be seen from this outline, the action of the puppet- play is almost sufficiently bizarre and disjointed to meet the with Jonas and the Whale. The last seems to have been the most popular puppet-play of its time, for it is also referred to twice by Jonson in Every Man out of his Humor (it is from this that I quote the full title) and, according to Collier {Punch and Judy, 23), by twenty other authors. Among other plays mentioned in contempo- rary literature, whose names at least convey a suggestion of their character, are the Prodigal Son {Winter's Tale, 4. 3. 103) ; London, and Rome {Ev. Man Out, 'Stage,' preceding A. i) ; Patient Gricill, and Whittington (Pepys' Diary, Aug. 30, 1667; Sept. 21, 1668). For the history of puppet-plays in England, cf. Encyc. Britan.; Punch and Judy; Magnin, Histoire des Marionnettes. Introduction xvii requirements of a modern comic opera. Though the bur- lesque use made of it renders absurd an analysis that is entirely serious, yet we may distinguish .certain features of the typical puppet-play. The lack of coherence in the action, intentionally exaggerated in the present example, is characteristic. And should we expect anything else in a work so largely extempore? The various parts of Hero and Leander are not more strangely wrought together than is the curious medley of scenes suggested in the bill of a puppet-show produced a century later by a motion-master of celebrity : 'At Crawley's Booth, over against the Crown Tavern in Smithfield, during the time of Bartholomew Fair, will be presented a little opera, called the Old Creation of the World, yet newly revived ; with the addition of Noah's Flood ; also several fountains playing water during the time of the play. — The last scene does present Noah and his family coming out of the Ark, with all the beasts two and two, and all the fowls of the air seen in a prospect sitting upon trees ; likewise over the ark is seen the Sun rising in a most glorious manner : moreover, a multitude of Angels will be seen in a double rank, which presents a double pros- pect, one for the sun, the other for a palace, where will be seen six Angels ringing of bells. — Likewise Machines descend from above, double and treble, with Dives rising out of Hell, and Lazarus seen in Abraham's bosom, besides several figures dancing jiggs, sarabands, and country dances, to the admiration of the spectators ; with the merry conceits of squire Punch and sir John Spendall.'^ Another very instructive parallel is furnished by a com- parison of the Punch and Judy show, which later was to have such vogue in England.- The plot has more unity, ' Cited by Strutt, Sports and Pastimes, i66. ' Cf. Punch and Judy, London, 1873 ; the dialogue by Collier, and the illustrations by Cruikshank, were based chiefly on the production of an Italian puppet-master, Piccini, in his old age settled near Drury Lane, London, who in the pursuit of his profession for forty or fifty years had travelled over England. Also cf. Don Quixote, part 2, chap. 26; here is described most vividly the redoubtable knight's seeing the puppet-play of Gayferos and Melissandro; this is almost exactly contemporary with our play. xviii Introduction but also is episodic. There is a like amorous feeling which underlies much of the action. There is a similar tendency towards coarseness in speech and action. There is even more rough horse-play and beating.^ Hero and Leander, besides pleasing an audience which had such a fondness for puppet-plays, portrays a most char- acteristic feature of the Fair. It presents significant experi- ences of the party of fools and the party of hypocrites; it is especially serviceable for the confutation and humiliation of Busy, who represents the Puritan prejudice against the stage. In the end it thus proves to be closely connected with the main interests of the action, and, with the qualifi- cation of coarseness already suggested, is very effective. The unusually large number of characters in Bartholomew Fair has been often commented on. The popular London Fair could hardly be presented with less. While many are no more than the supernumeraries of the modern stage, several are well deserving of study, especially the 'Bar- tholomew birds,' the habitual frequenters of the Fair. It is doubtful whether Jonson ever drew a more lifelike woman than Ursula. She is not at all a heroine ; her language savors most disagreeably of the low company she keeps ; but this huge, waddling pig-woman is hardly less a living creation than Falstaff, and, though she lacks his geniality she is not without some of his humor. Almost as well drawn is Ursula's companion, Knockem, the horse-courser. That Jonson, .the man of books and the indefatigable student of the classics, could enter so heartily into this character and talk his very language, is indeed sur- prising. It shows his many-sided nature. Mention also should be made of Whit, Edgworth, Nightingale, Haggise, and Bristle, who are other excellent representatives of the familiar characters to be met at the Fair. ^ Beating has in all times been good material for low comedy, and never fails to catch the public attention, whether it be in the time of Aristophanes, Plautus, the English moralities, or Shakespeare. Introduction xix Littlewit, Purecraft, Busy, Overdo, Cokes, and Grace Wellborn suggest something of the dramatist's humor- studies, though there is very little of the tedious analysis that not infrequently characterized the earlier work. Overdo is artificial, and his pompous overdoing is overdone. Grace Wellborn, eminently proper and respectable, has not the least girlishness in her composition, and is disappointing. In no other character is the sympathetic, life-infusing art of Shakespeare so completely lacking. Busy and the other characters prominent in the dramatist's ridicule of the Puri- tans, afford an interest of another kind ; together with the consideration of Jonson's satire I reserve them for the fol- lowing section. Most interesting and important in connection with Jon- son's treatment of character, is his realism. He exhibits a wonderful grasp of characteristic detail, and yet is not unmindful of the larger effects. Reference already has been made to his exact knowledge of the horse-courser's lingo, and almost as much might be said for the speech of the civil cutpurse and his assistant, the disreputable Irishman, the ginger-bread woman, the watchmen, and others. How this acquaintance was gained we do not know, but there can be no question of an intimate knowledge of these char- acters and of their manner of life as well as of their speech. Jonson's art of realism is certainly remarkable in its power to bring before us these characters almost in flesh and blood. Yet that which is merely physical, though it may arouse an interest in science, certainly does not in literature, and we should scarcely care to dwell so long on the ignoble phases of Jonson's characters were they much more truly alive. The ribald speech of Ursula, as well as of the pup- pets, assuredly has no place in the province of art. The play is great in spite of, not because of, its vulgarity. Yet in justice to Jonson it should be added that in general the atmosphere of the play is wholesome. There is certainly nothing insidious or vicious in its tendency. Evil is made repulsive, folly and hypocrisy are revealed and punished. XX Introduction Our playwright's realism is further open to criticism, in the little sympathy awakened by the individual character. How can we sympathize with the foolish Cokes, or the overdoing Justice, or the doting Littlewit? Now while no group of people such as are to be found at a popular fair, fail to show very freely their weakness, they occasionally exhibit their excellences as well. However much we may laugh at Falstaff or Malvolio, we still feel a kinship and sympathy with them such as none of Jonson's characters calls forth. There is a spiritual element in Shakespeare's art that deals with things other than the merely external. It is largely for this reason that, in comparing the low comedy scenes of King Henry IV with Bartholomew Fair, we must acknowledge the quality of Shakespeare's realism to be superior, though in the energy and completeness of the picture, Jonson's comedy is not surpassed. Jonson more than any other Elizabethan dramatist iden- tified himself with London, and by nature was peculiarly fitted to enter into the life of the great Smithfield Fair. Few others could have been so keen and accurate in their observations, and none could more heartily enjoy its rough, spontaneous humor. Bartholomew Fair .excels in the varied and abounding life of its scenes, and offers an extremely rich field for the study of English social history. 4, Jonson's Satire of the Puritans. Jonson's life is the story of many a conflict. Questions involving moral issues strongly attracted him, perhaps not a little because of the difference of opinion and the opposi- tion that they were sure to arouse. In treating them he did not evince the finest subtlety, but he never showed lack of strength and courage. Although little used to exalted emotion, he was philosophical, and his keen and active mind delighted to penetrate the disguises of evil and expose the insidious foe. His hostile attitude and mode of attack, he himself best describes : Introduction xxi But, with an armed and resolved hand, I'll strip the ragged follies of the time Naked as at their birth . . . . . . and with a whip of steel, Print wounding lashes in their iron ribs. Well, I will scourge those apes, And to these courteous eyes oppose a mirror, As large as is the stage whereon we act; Where they shall see the time's deformity Anatomized in every nerve and sinew.^ This is the very essence of satire, such as had its origin among the Romans and such as Juvenal wielded. It char- acterizes practically all of Jonson's work, being found in the epigrams, odes, masques, and in all the comedies. Though lacking the imperturbable good nature and 'silvery laughter' of Moliere, it is free from the acerbity and hatred of Swift. Its leading feature is grim seriousness and uncom- promising determination, very much resembling the stern and aggressive spirit of the reformer. Incidental allusions to the Puritans abound in Jonson's writings, but for our study The Alchemist, Bartholomew Fair, and The Sad Shepherd will be found of especial importance, particularly the first two, in which the treatment of Puritanism constitutes one of the chief interests of the plays, representatives of this class being included in the dramatis personae and given a leading part in the action. The satire here is not that found in Jonson's earlier work. There he lapsed not infrequently into long descriptions and minute character-analyses, as he defined with a scholar's exactness the follies he sought to expose. The defects of this kind of dramatic satire are obvious. A play requiring a long 'Character of the Persons' by way of preface and explanation, cannot be well adapted to the stage. Such satire might perhaps be effective in the essay, but certainly is not suited to the drama. ^ Ev. Man Out, Works, 2. 12, 17. xxii * Introduction But in The Alchemist and Bartholomeiv Fair the satire is embodied in the characters themselves. Those who bring ridicule upon the 'brethren' in the former, are none other than the deacon, Ananias, and the pastor, Tribulation Wholesome. Both are easy victims of an alchemical fraud ; in their desire for wealth, conscience and principle are most elastic, and it is this which involves them in ridicule and dis- grace. In Bartholomezv Fair Zeal-of-the-land Busy and Dame Purecraft are similarly the chief maligners of the Puritans. The former, a Banbury baker, has given up his trade because his 'spiced conscience' would not allow him to furnish cakes for May-poles, wakes, and other 'profane' feasts. He now prophesies, and for his gluttonous sub- sistence leans on the brethren and sisters of the holy cause. The idolatrous Bartholomew Fair fills his soul with horror, but when a small company of his flock are determined to visit the Fair and eat pig, he is easily persuaded to justify their action and to go with them. At the Fair his arrogant and troublesome zeal urges him on to violence : but his ignorant and indiscriminate attacks come absolutely to naught, occasioning in the end only great laughter. Dame Purecraft is 'a wilful holy widow' who delights in the many suitors that her property, dishonestly acquired, keeps about her. Being given to superstition, she becomes the victim of a trick resorted to by a gallant who marries her solely for her wealth. The Sad Shepherd, being a pastoral comedy, scarcely would permit the presence of a Puritan, and consequently the satire is not as dramatic. In their speeches. Clarion, Tuck, Lionel, and Robin Hood severely characterize the 'surly shepherds' who frown upon their sports ; who is meant is of course very evident. As Jonson's attack is considered more in detail, it will be noted from how many different points he assails the Puritans, showing the thoroughness and vigor so genuinely characteristic of him. There were, however, some foibles, commonly ridiculed, which he passed over lightly, and others Introduction xxiii which he did not touch on at all. This has an important significance, as I hope to show later. The Puritans' dress readily distinguished them. There was 'Religion in their garments, and their hair cut shorter than their eyebrows.'^ But the external peculiarities could well be left to the actors together with the designers of cos- tume ; such allusions Jonson makes but rarely. As he approached, however, what has more intimately to do with character — manners, language, hypocritical subtleties — he was on ground that as a writer of humor-studies he especially delighted in. Here ridicule attends the Puritans at every step. It begins with their names. Tribulation Wholesome, Ananias, Win-the-fight, Zeal-of-the-land Busy, which Subtle contemptuously says are affected 'Only for glory, and to catch the ear of the disciple'.^ Jonson's Puritans are great talkers, and love language that is large and solemn. Their graces are so protracted that the meat on the table forgets that it was this day in the kitchen. They call themselves the 'Saints' ; they are of the 'separation', devoted to the 'holy' or 'sanctified cause'. The hobby-horses for sale at Bartholomew Fair, in their language, are 'apocryphal wares', the seller none other than the 'Nebuchadnezzar of the Fair', and Busy, in his icono- clastic zeal, remorselessly destroys Joan's gingerbread figures, 'her basket of popery', her 'nest of images'. Jonson's Puritans are addicted to sophistry. Ananias declares that Subtle is a 'heathen and speaks the language of Canaan', and he scruples against dealing with him because 'The sanctified cause should have a sanctified course'. But Tribulation smooths over the difficulty by observing that 'The children of perdition are ofttimes made instruments even of the greatest works'. Again, Mrs. Littlewit is taken with a desire to eat pig in the Fair. Her mother, Dame Purecraft, wishes to gratify her even though ^ Ev. Man Out, Induct. " Alchem. Cun. G. ed. 4. 93. xxiv Introduction the Puritan teaching was decidedly averse to such pleasures ; so Rabbi Busy is sent for to 'raise them up in a scruple'. He begins with several cant expressions, such as Bar- tholomew pig 'is a spice of idolatry', but, upon being urged, quickly finds that the matter 'is subject to construction', and that 'in midst of the profane', pig may 'be eaten with a reformed mouth, with sobriety and humbleness'. And thus it is easily brought about that within less than an hour John and Mrs. Littlewit are enjoying the traditional delicacy of Bartholomew Fair, accompanied by Dame Purecraft and also Rabbi Busy. Closely associated with the language of the Puritans, and equally vulnerable, was their scrupulosity, which all of Jon- son's Puritans affect. Ananias, offended by the heathen doctor's 'Christmas', which at once suggests popery to him, interrupts with, 'Christ-tide, I pray you'. Similarly, Busy will not allow himself to be called a 'godfather', but a 'witness'. Still less does their narrowness and intolerance escape without many a sharp attack. Busy in the stocks threatens the philosophical Overdo, repeating bits of Latin authors for his own consolation, that he will 'leave to communicate' his spirit if he hears 'any more of those superstitious relics, those lists of Latin, the very rags of Rome, and patches of popery'.^ For the Catholic faith to Busy was synonymous with idolatry, and things as far removed from priestcraft as Joan's artistic gingerbread-creations made him burn with indignation. No one would ever charge Busy with too much learning ; as Quarlous wittily remarks : 'He will ever be in the state of innocence though and childhood ; derides all antiquity, defies any other learning than inspiration ; and what discretion soever, years should afford him, it is all prevented in his original ignorance. '- Busy, like Ananias, is carried along by his zeal, and the promptings of the spirit lead him into gross absurdities. Of ' 103. 22. ^ 19. 12. Introduction xxv these, none is more thoroughly in the spirit of comic satire than his attack on the stage and his controversy with the puppets. In this Jonson ridiculed most eflfectively the unreasonable attitude which the Puritans took towards the stage, and the general ignorance of their attacks, which already were common. The Puritans' intolerance extended farther than to plays and fairs ; Busy puts with them in a general condemnation, May-games, morris-dances, wakes, and wedding- feasts ; the prophesying Elder to whom a hobby-horse was an idol, and a drum the broken belly of the beast, could have no sym- pathy with mirth. This spirit of severity and intolerance Jonson satirized again in The Sad Shepherd, when Robin Hood suggests a song and dance in the wood, affirming : Such are the rites the youthful June allow. To which Clarion replies : They zvere, gay Robin ; but the sourer sort Of shepherds now disclaim in all such sport. And Lionel adds : They call ours Pagan pastimes that infect Our blood with ease, our youth with all neglect ; Our tongues with wantonness, our thoughts with lust; And what they censure ill, all others must.^ In their conduct of life, Jonson's Puritans are anything but spiritually minded. Ananias and Tribulation Whole- some seek after the riches that perish, and by the most foolish of means. Busy and Dame Purecraft, according to the latter's confession, have like worldly tendencies. Busy, further, is a glutton ; he eats pig and drinks ale at the Fair in a way that shows his gastronomic powers are no whit inferior to those of Moliere's Tartuffe. As the application of principles to life is further consid- ered, the Puritans are found engaged in certain rather sur- prising vocations. While Stubbes and others, like Busy, denounced the wearers of feathers and similar vanities, not ' Cun. G. ed. 6. 245. xxvi Introduction a few of their number had a good Hving from the making and selling of them. This was a well known fact in the London of Jonson's time, and was so thoroughly inconsistent that he found pleasure in returning to it several times. As the Puritans did not hesitate to adopt the singularities of dress, so in their profession and living they seemed to experience a joy in being of the Separation, a joy that was decidedly self-centered. Busy, when thrust into the stocks, was 'glad to be thus separated from the heathen of the land'. Ananias was so imbued with the same spirit that he failed to recognize that the magistrate possessed any jurisdiction over him, and so had no scruple in pursuing the project, for- bidden by law, of the private coinage of gold. Finally, with all their scrupulosity, the Puritans are not to be credited with common honesty. Subtle boldly charges this and Tribulation does not deny it, though in his sophistry he glosses it over. It is Dame Purecraft herself who tells Quarlous of Busy's practice of robbing heirs of property left in his trust, and of her own still more effective device of extorting alms for various specious charities which really ended in herself. Similarly, but more sternly, some years later in The Sad Shepherd were the Puritans charged With covetise and rage, when to their store They add the poor man's yeanling, and dare' sell Both fleece and carcass, not gi'ing him the fell.^ As we have thus enumerated the charges made by Jonson, the question naturally suggested is. How far were they just? There are some that can be dismissed almost at a glance, for The Alchemist and Bartholomezv Fair are comedy as well as satire, and other characters, as well as the Puritans, are often distorted and made ridiculous in order to amuse. Yet in general Jonson was serious even in his jesting. In seeking rightly to estimate the Puritans, we have the perspective of three hundred years to aid us, and it is easy to judge to-day with a degree of fairness such as was almost impossible for a contemporary dramatist. ^ Cun. G. ed. 6. 245. Introduction xxvii Jonson's Puritans are hypocrites. But history tells us of men who, to worship God according to their ideas of right, left home, endured years of exile, and finally braved the perils and hardships attendant upon a settlement in a wild and unknown land. It tells us also of their kinsmen who, remaining in England, for the sake of political and religious liberty resisted royal despotism and underwent the horrors of civil war. The belief that produced such men could not be essentially hypocritical. But the mass of Puritans was by no means on the same level as the ardent leaders. Cromwell's and Milton's frequent remonstrances are evidence to the contrary. And, further, not infrequently it is true that men who have the quality for making gallant soldiers or explorers, are not the most desirable neighbors. The very intensity with which the Puritans sought what they considered the essentials of character, made them likely to neglect the cultivation of the more easily acquired, and perhaps more natural, virtues. Their lives commonly lacked a beautiful symmetry, and among the ignorant abounded in inconsistencies. Thus while Jonson's satire as a whole was unfair to the Puritans, each individual point was not without much justi- fication. These people certainly were odd in their dress ; with some this was but a natural result of their strong aversion to the extravagance of a city and land which went wild over new and absurd styles ; with others it was an affectation. Even the former must have found it difficult not to become self-conscious — perhaps vain of their freedom from vanity. That their language was stilted and bombastic, contempo- rary literature gives abundant proof. Especially writings intended to correct the follies of the time, such as Philip Stubbes' Anatomy of Abuses, show how ridiculous were the titanic denunciations brought to bear on peccadillos too insignificant for notice. The language of the Puritans was loaded with Biblical illustrations and phrases, sometimes to a degree that now would seem almost profane. But the xxviii Introduction Bible to many was their only book, and in it they found a guide for even the trivial incidents of every day. And what wonder that they fell into occasional errors by interpreting it too narrowly ! Of its pervading influence Green gives an admirable statement in his History of the English People:^ The power of the Book [the Bible] over the mass of Englishmen showed itself in a thousand superficial ways, and in none more con- spicuously than in the influence on ordinary speech. It formed, we must repeat, the whole literature which was practically accessible to ordinary Englishmen; and when we recall the number of common phrases which we owe to great authors, the bits of Shakespeare, or Milton, or Dickens, or Thackeray, which unconsciously interweave themselves in our ordinary talk, we shall better understand the strange mosaic of Biblical words and phrases which colored English talk two hundred years ago. By far the most serious of the minor charges in our author's satire was that of narrowness and intolerance. Before 1595 the main causes of difference between Puritan and churchman had been questions of ceremony — as the wearing of the surplice, the reading of the service, the rite of baptism, the location of the communion table, etc. Had either party shown breadth in their views and a little toler- ance, the separation might never have occurred. This unyielding spirit on the part of the Puritans in no small degree was due to their dread of the Catholics, whom they treated with bitter hostility. Anything that contained the least suggestion of papacy was to be fought to the death; their imaginations were not less active than Busy's in con- juring up these delusive foes ; and they fell into what Bacon calls 'a superstition in avoiding a superstition.' Nor were they much kinder to others outside of the English Church who differed from themselves. This was shown in the New World by their treatment of the Quakers, and the cruel retaliations which they practised upon the Indians. In the home-land they could not exercise the same independence, yet many believed quite as strongly that they ^3. II. Introduction xxix were God's chosen people, surrounded by the heathen Canaanites ; and so intent were they in heeding the Old Testament warning against contamination that they quite overlooked the New Testament exhortation to love and ser- vice. This extreme form of the Puritans' spirit of separa- tion, supported by conceit, perverseness, intolerance, and cruelty, is what Bishop Hall especially stigmatized in his Apology against the Brownists. Bacon severely character- ized the same, also, in his essay, Unity in Religion : Tt is certain, that heresies and schisms are of all others the greatest scandals, yea, more than corruption of manners.' Busy is a glutton ; but with the austere simplicity of the Puritans, frugality and abstemiousness much more com- monly prevailed. Busy is characterized by his inspired ignorance, but the Puritans of history founded schools and colleges ; though not always broad and liberal in their cul- ture, they fostered learning as no other people of their time. Busy, Purecraft, Ananias, and Wholesome were dishonest, and the same charge, with stern plainness, is repeated in The Sad Shepherd. But dishonesty is so far removed from what history tells us of the rigid moral integrity of the Puritans, that although no doubt there was ground for Jon- son's accusation in individual cases — and they may have been intensified to his mind by personal observation — this charge is not worth our attention. The Puritans formed much too large a class not to have some rogues hiding among them. And, as is always the way in times of religious prejudice and persecution, all kinds of fanatics and enthusiasts were loosely classed with them ; and further, without the least ground for suspicion, crimes and absurd false plots were fathered upon them.^ Jonson was in the front rank, but by no means alone, in his attack on the Puritans.-^ The Jacobean dramatists who made ' Cf. Neal, I. 219, 343. ' For a much more extended view of this conflict, see Thompson's Controversy betiveen the Puritans and the Stage ; part 2, in which the author considers 'The Dramatists' Reply to the Puritans,' is particularly related to our subject. XXX Introduction no allusion to the class that so vigorously assailed them are indeed few. These allusions, sometimes in the form of harmless jokes, again of downright scurrility, for the most part are too insignificant to warrant our attention. But there are certain plays more ambitious in their satire. The Puritan, 1607, whose authorship, variously attributed to Shakespeare, Middleton and others, is unknown, makes sev- eral of the holy society ridiculous through their hypocrisy and stupidity. This play is a very poor farce, and the imbecility, the puerile dishonesty represented as character- izing the Puritans, is so overdrawn that it is ineffective as satire. In The Family of Love, 1608, Middleton devoted an entire comedy to equal nonsense. A band of religious enthusiasts, known by this name, seems to have been organized by Heinrich Niclaes about 1555. They were guided, they pro- fessed, by Divine Love, but their enemies said, by carnal affection. So that classifying them under the general name of Puritans, as often was done, cast a slur upon the latter. Middleton, in his satire, depicts wanton sensuality masquerading in the guise of religious enthusiasm, together with some of the common foibles of the city Puritan. The whole is done in such a way. Ward observes, 'as to lead to the conclusion that the dramatist knew little or nothing of the principles or practices which he was attempting to satirize.'^ In A Chaste Maid in Cheapside, 1630, by the same author, some Puritan women appear at a congratu- latory party ; they converse most inanely, and are so unim- portant as not even to be distinguished by names. In The Muse's Looking Glass, 1634, Randolph makes Bird, a feather-maker, and Mrs. Flowerdew, a seller of pins and looking-glasses, both Puritans of Blackfriars, the leading characters. Their cant and extravagant language, the inconsistency of their dealing in feathers, and their ignorant hostility to the stage, are well satirized. It is important to note that Randolph was one of the Sons of ^ Hist. Eng. Dram. Lit. 2. 517. Introduction xxxi Ben, and that in this comedy, both in his manner and in what he satirized, he was plainly influenced by the older poet. Viewed as a whole, the satire of contemporary drama- tists against the Puritans was scattered and fragmentary. The few who give the Puritans more attention, render their shafts ineffective by their carelessness of aim and indiffer- ence in manner. Randolph is an exception, but he follows Jonson so closely that it is hardly necessary to give him special consideration. It is a fact of no little significance that, while Jonson scrutinized the typical and individual failings of the Puri- tans with a thoroughness that makes his satire surpass that of all the other dramatists put together, nowhere in his comedies does he charge them with social impurity. I can- not regard it as accidental ; the suggestion of making such an accusation certainly is found in Marston's Malcontent, The Puritan, and Middleton's Family of Love, all of which were produced a few years previous to The Alchemist; neither Jonson's delicacy nor the standards of the times would have stigmatized such a subject as improper for the stage. The evidence is fairly conclusive that Jonson deliberately chose not to make such a charge, and that in his hostility he practised moderation, laying hold only of that which in his judgment rightly deserved the lash. Nor is this incon- sistent with his satire on the dishonesty and hypocrisy of the Puritans, although, as I have said, these failings are not to be regarded as characterizing the class as a whole. Jonson was a man of strong prejudices, and even a few cases of religious imposition and deceit brought to his attention might easily have colored a feeling already some- what averse to the Puritans. What seems to be his real judgment regarding them, expressed in plain and concise form, is found in a passage in Timber, which I translate : 'The Puritan hypocrite is a fanatic mentally unbalanced by a belief in his own peculiar vision, by which xxxii Introduction he thinks he has discovered certain errors in a few of the dogmas of the church. Thence seized by a holy frenzy, he madly resists the magistrates, believing that he is thus showing obedience to God.' That Jonson, of all the Jacobean dramatists, should have been the one especially to attack the Puritans, is extremely paradoxical. At heart he was a very Puritan himself. He could never resist an opportunity for preaching; as he says in the Prologue of The Alchemist, This pen Did never aim to grieve, but better men. More than once he himself attacked the stage, and far surpassed the similar efforts of the Puritans, because he knew better of what he spoke. But Jonson resembled the Puritans also in their failings : he lacked tolerance and sympathy. As it was not easy for him to appreciate a rival playwright, it was also difficult for him to do justice to a rival moralist. And for himself to attack his own profession was quite different from standing silently by, and seeing outsiders ignorantly and abusively attempt the same. The latter, to a man of his combative nature, was a challenge which professional honor would not allow him to ignore. His attitude toward the Puritans, further, may have been influenced not a little by religious prejudice. From the Conversations with Drummond we know that for twelve years after his imprisonment in 1598, he was a pro- fessed Catholic. Could the Puritans' absurd fears and bitter denunciations of popery have failed to awaken antagonism in this rough fighter ? Finally, Jonson was hostile to the Puritans because he failed to appreciate their real spirit. As has already been observed, his genius was powerful and massive rather than delicate and graceful. There was a lack of the finest feeling. He gloried in the great monuments of philo- sophical and scientific knowledge, but , the noble idealism that transcends all that is mere intellect, he only dimly Introduction xxxiii apprehended. His attitude toward Shakespeare was dis- tingliished by a large and generous admiration, and yet it was an admiration chiefly of the remarkable powers of a master-mind. The same limitation marks his portrayal of the Puritans. He did not exhibit the poet's power of seeing deep into their spirit. Thus his satire fails to be the truest and most convincing, and at times borders upon caricature. This was how Bartholomew Fair impressed Samuel Pepys as he saw it in 1668 : Tt is an excellent play ; the more I see it, the more I love the wit of it ; only the business of abusing the Puritans begins to grow stale, and of no use, they being the people that, at last, will be found the wisest.' BARTHOLMEW FAYRE: A COMEDIE, ACTED IN THE YE ARE, 1 6 14. By the Lady ELIZABETHS Servants. And then dedicated to King lAMES, of moft Bleffed Memorie ; By the Author, BENIAMIN IOHNSON. Si foret in terris, rideret Democritus : nam Spedlaret populuni ludis attentius ipfis, Vt fibi pj'oientem, mimo fpeclaciila plura. Scj-iptores auiem narrare putaret ajjfello Fabellam furdo. Hor. lib. 2. Epift. I. [Device of a Wolf's Head Erased, etc.] LONDON, Printed by /. B. for Robert Allot, and are to be fold at the figne of the Beare, in Pauls Church-yard. 1631. THE PROLOGVE TO THE KINGS MAIESTY. Y Our Maiefly is welcome to a Fayre ; Such place, fuch men, fuck language &' fuch ware, You mzijl expefl : with thefe, the zealous noyfe Of your lands Fa<5lion, fcandaliz' d at toyes, As Babies, Hobhy-horfes, Puppet-play es, Aiid fuch like rage, whereof the petidatit wayes Your felfe haue knowne, and haue bin vext with long. Thefe for your f port, without perticular wrong, Or iufl coinplaint of any priuate man, ( Who of himfelfe, or fliall thinke well or can) The Maker doth prefefit : a?td hopes, to night To giue you for a Fay ring, true delight. THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY. lOHN LiTTLEWIT. Win Little-wit. Dame Pvrecraft. Zeal-of-the-land Bvsy. Win-wife, qvarlovs. Bartholmew Cokes. HVMPHREY WaSPE. Adam Over-doo. Dame Overdoo. Grace Welborne. Lant. Leatherhead. Ioane Trash. EZECHIEL EdGWORTH. Nightingale. Vrsla. Moon-calfe. Iordan Knock-hvm, Val. Cvtting. Captaine Whit. PvNQVE Alice. Trovble-All. A Pro^lor. His wife. Her mother and a widdow. Her Suitor, a Banbury man. His jRiuall, a Gentle??ian. His companion, a Gamejler. An Ef quire of Harrow. His man. A luflice of Peace. His wife. His Ward. A Hobbi-horfe feller. A Ginger-bread woman. A Cutpurfe. A Ballad- finger. A Pigge-woman. Her Tapfler. A Horfe-courfer, and ranger A Roarer. [o' Turjibull. A Bawd. Miflreffe o'the Game. A Madman. Whtchmen, three. CosTARD-monger. MovsETRAP-man. Clothier. Wrestler. Porters. Doore-keepers. PVPPETS. WATCHMEN, three, 7692 : Three Watchmen J77<5, W THE INDVCTION. ON THE STAGE. Stage-Keeper. Gentlemen, haue a little patience, they are e'en vpon comming, inflantly. He that Ihould beginne the Play, Mafler Littletvit, the Pro^or, has a flitch new falne in his black filk flocking ; 'twill be drawn vp ere you can tell twenty. He playes 5 one o'the Arches, that dwels about the Hofpitall, and hee has a very pretty part. But for the whole Play, will you ha'the truth on't ? (I am looking, left the Poet heare me, or his man, Mafler Broome, behind the Arras) it is like to be a very conceited fcuruy one, in plaine Englifh. When't 10 comes to the Fayre, once : you were e'en as good goe to Virginia, for any thing there is of Smith-field. Hee has not hit the humors, he do's not know 'hem ; hee has not conuers'd with the Bartholmew-hirds, as they fay ; hee has ne're a Sword, and Buckler man in his Fayre, nor a little 15 Dauy, to take toll o'the Bawds there, as in my time, nor a Kind-heart, if any bodies teeth fhould chance to ake in his Play. Nor a lugler with a wel-educated Ape to come ouer the chaine, for the King of England, and backe againe for the Prince, and fit flill on his arfe for the Pope, and the 20 King of Spaine\ None o'these fine fights ! Nor has he the Canuas-cut 'ithe night, for a Hobby-horfeman to creepe into his flie-neighbour, and take his leap there ! Nothing ! No, and fome writer (that I know) had had but the penning o'this matter, hee would ha'made you fuch 25 6 THE INDVCTION. a lig-ajogge i'the boothes, you Ihould ha'thought an earthquake had beene i'the Fayre\ But thefe Mafler- Poets, they will ha'their owne abfurd courfes ; they will be inform'd of nothing ! Hee has {Jlrreuerettce) kick'd me 5 three, or foure times about the Tyring-houfe, I thanke him, for but offering to putt in, with my experience. I'le be iudg'd by you, Gentlemen, now, but for one conceit of mine ! would not a fine Pumpe vpon the Stage ha'done well, for a property now ? and a Punque fet vnder vpon 10 her head, with her Sterne vpward, and ha'beene fouf 'd by my wity young maflers o'the Innes o'Cotirt ? what thinke you o'this for a fhew, now ? hee will not heare o'this! I am an Affe ! I ! and yet I kept the Stage in Mafler Tarle- tons time, I thanke my flarres. Ho ! and that man had 15 liu'd to haue play'd in Barthohnew Fay re, you fhould ha'feene him ha'come in, and ha'beene coozened i'the Cloath-quarter, fo finely ! And Adams, the Rogue, ha' leap'd and caper'd vpon him, and ha'dealt his vermine about, as though they had cofl him nothing. And then a 20 fubflantiall watch to ha'flolne in vpon 'hem, and taken 'hem away, with miflaking words, as the fafhion is, in the 6'/a^^-pra6lice, Booke-holder : Scriuener. To hun. Booke. How now ? what rare difcourfe are you falne vpon? ha? ha'you found any familiars here, that you are 25 fo free ? what's the bufineffe ? Sta. Nothing, but the vnderflanding Gentlemen o'the ground here, ask'd my iudgement. Booke. Your iudgement, Rafcall ? for what ? fweeping the Stage ? or gathering vp the broken Apples for the 30 beares within ? Away Rogue, it's come to a fine degree THE INDVCTION. 7 in thefe fpe6lacles when fuch a youth as you pretend to a iudgement. And yet hee may, i'the moft o'this matter i'faith : For the Author hath writ it iuft to his Meridian, and the Scale of the grounded Judgements here, his Play- fellowes in wit. Gentlemen ; not for want of a Prologue^ e but by way of a new one, I am fent out to you here, with a Scriuener, and certaine Articles drawne out in haft betweene our Author, and you ; which if you pleafe to heare, and as they appeare reafonable, to approue of ; the Play will follow prefently. Read, Scribe, gi'me the Counter- xo paine. Scr. Articles of Agreement, indented, betweene the SpeHators or Hearers, at the Hope on the Bankefide, in the County of Surrey on the one party ; And the Author of Bartholmew Fayre in the faid place, and County on the 15 other party : the one and thirtieth day of OHob. 1614. and in the twelfth yeere of the Raigne of our Soueragine Lord, Iames by the grace of God Ki7ig of England, Fra7ice, &' Ireland ; Defender of the faith. And of Scotland Xho. feauen and fortieth. 20 Inprimis, It is couenanted and agreed, by and betweene the parties abouefaid, and the faid SpeHators, and Hearers, afwell the curious and enuious, as the fauouring and iudicious, as alfo the grounded Judgements and vnder- ftandings, doe for themfelues feuerally Couenant, and 25 agree to remaine in the places, their money or friends haue put them in, with patience, for the fpace of two houres and an halfe, and fomewhat more. In which time the Author promifeth to prefent them by vs, with a new fufficient Play called Bartholmew Fayre, merry, and 30 as full of noife, as fport : made to delight all, and to 22 abouefaid] aforesaid G 8 THE INDVCTION. offend none. Prouided they haue either, the w.it or the honefly to thinke well of themfelues. It is further agreed that euery perfon here, haue his or their free-will of cenfure, to like or diflike at their owne 5 charge, the Author hauing now departed with his right: It fhall be lawfull for any man to iudge his fix pen'orth his twelue pen'orth, fo to his eighteene pence, 2. fhillings, halfe a crowne, to the value of his place: Prouided alwaies his place get not aboue his wit. And if he pay for halfe a 10 dozen, hee may cenfure for all them too, fo that he will vndertake that they fhall bee filent. Hee fhall put in for Cenfures here, as they doe for lots at the lottery : mary if he drop but fixe pence at the doore, and will cenfure a crownes worth, it is thought there is no confcience, or 15 iuftice in that. It is alfo agreed, that euery man heere, exercife his owne ludgement, and not cenfure by Contagion, or vpon trujl, from anothers voice, or face, that fits by him, be he neuer fo firfl, in the Commifsion of Wit : As alfo, that hee 20 bee fixt and fettled in his cenfure, that what hee approues, or not approues to day, hee will doe the fame to morrow, and if to morrow, the next day, and fo the next weeke (if neede be :) and not to be brought about by any that fits on the Bench with him, though they indite, and arraigne 25 Playes daily. Hee that will fweare, leronimo, or Andronicus are the befl playes, yet, fhall paffe vnexcepted at, heere, as a man whofe ludgement fhewes it is conflant, and hath Hood flill, thefe fiue and twentie, or thirtie yeeres. Though it he 2in Ignorance, it is a vertuous and flay'd ignorance; 20 and next to truth, a confirm'd errour does well ; fuch a one the Author knowes where to finde him. THE INDVCTION. 9 It is further couenanted, concluded and agreed, that how great foeuer the expectation bee, no perfon here, is to expe6l more then hee knowes, or better ware then a Fayre will aflfoord : neyther to looke backe to the fword and buckler-age of Smithfield, but content himfelfe with 5 the prefent. In flead of a little JDaiiy^ to take toll o'the Bawds, the Author doth promife a ftrutting Jlorfe-coiirfer, with a leere-Dmnkixxd, two or three to attend him, in as good Equipage as you would wifli. And then for Kinde- heart, the Tooth-drawer, a fine oyly Pig-wo7nan with her 10 TapJIer, to bid you welcome, and a confort of Roarers for mufique. A wife lujlice of Peace jfieditajit, in flead of a lugler, with an Ape. A ciuill Cutpurfe fear chant. A fweete Singer of new Ballads allurant : and as frefli an Hypocrite, as euer was broach'd rampant. If there bee neuer a Seruant- 15 inonjler i'the Fayre ; who can helpe it ? he fayes ; nor a nefl of Antiques ? Hee is loth to make Nature afraid in his Flayes, like thofe that beget Tales. Tempejls, and fuch like Drolleries, to mixe his head with other mens heeles, let the concupifence of ligges and F)ances, raigne as flrong as it 20 will amongfl you : yet if the Fuppets will pleafe any body, they fhall be entreated to come in. In confederation of which, it is finally agreed, by the fore- faid hearers, 2iX\6.fpe^ators, that they neyther in themfelues conceale, nor fuffer by them to be concealed any State- 25 decipherer, or politique Ficklocke of the Scene, fo folemnly ridiculous, as to fearch out, who was meant by the Ginger- bread-woman, who by the Hobby-horfe-man, who by the Coflard-monger, nay, who by their Wares. Or that will pretend to affirme (on his owne infpired ignorance') what 30 Mirror of Magiflrates is meant by the luflicc, what great 23 aforesaid W, G lo THE INDVCTION. Lady by the Pigge-7vomaji, what conceal' d Statef-man, by the Seller of Moufe-trappes, and fo of the refl. But that fuch perfon, or perfons, fo found, be left difcouered to the mercy of the Author, as a forfeiture to the Stage, and your 5 laughter, aforefaid. As alfo, fuch as fhall fo defperately, or ambitioufly, play the foole by his place aforefaid, to challenge the Author of fcurrilitie, becaufe the language fome where fauours of Smithfield, the Booth, and the Pig- broath, or of prophaneneffe, becaufe a Mad-man cryes, God lo quit you, or bleffe you. In witneffe whereof, as you haue prepolleroufly put to your Seales already (which is your money) you will now adde the other part of fufifrage, your hands, The Play fhall prefently begin. And though the Fayre be not kept in the fame Region, that fome here, 15 perhaps, would haue it, yet thinke, that therein the Author hath obferu'd a fpeciall Decorum, the place being as durty as Smithfield, and as (linking euery whit. Howfoeiier, hee prayes you to beleeue, his Ware is flill the fame, elfe you will make him iullly fufpedl that hee 20 that is fo loth to looke on a Baby, or an Hobby-horfe., heere, would bee glad to take vp a Commodity of them, at any laughter, or loffe, in another place. BARTHOLMEVV.., FAYRE. Act. I. Scene. I. LiTTLE-vviT. \ To him \ Win. A Pretty conceit, and worth the finding! I ha'fuch lucke to fpinne out thefe fine things flill, and like a Silke-worme, out of my felfe. Her's Mafler Bartholomew Cokes, of Harrow oWi hill, i'th County of Middle/ex, Efquire, takes forth his Licence, to 5 marry Miflreffe Grace Wel-borne of the faid place and County: and when do's hee take it foorth ? to day! the f oure and twentieth of Augufl ! Bartholview day ! Barthol- mew vpon Bartholmewl there's the deuice! who would haue mark'd fuch a leap-frogge chance now ? A very leffe 10 then Ames-ace, on two Dice! well, goe thy wayes lohtt Little-ivit, Pro6lor lohn Little-wit : One o'the pretty wits o'Fauls, the Little wit of London (fo thou art call'd) and fome thing befide. When a quirk, or a quiblin do's fcape thee, and thou dofl not watch, and apprehend it, and bring 15 it afore the Conflable of conceit: (there now, I fpeake quib too) let 'hem carry thee out o'the Archdeacons Court, into his Kitchin, and make a Lack of thee, in flead of a Lohn. (There I am againe la!) Win, Good morrow, Witt. G makes but one scene of Act 1. 3 Her's] Here's 769^, lyib, W, G 10 G would insert ViiXXe between very' 'and leffe. 12 Bartholmevv Fayre. I marry Wm ! Now you looke finely indeed, Win ! this Cap do's conuince! youl'd not ha'worne it, Win, nor ha' had it veluet, but a rough countrey Beauer, with a copper- band, like the Conney- skinne woman of Budge- row "i 5 Sweete Win, let me kiffe it! And. her fine high fhooes, like the SpaniJJi Lady ! Good Win, goe a litle I would faine fee thee pace, pretty Win ! By this fine Cap, I could neuer leaue kiffing on't. [2] Win. Come, indeede la, you are fuch a foole, flill ! 10 LiTT. No, but halfe a one. Win, you are the tother halfe : man and wife make one foole. Win. (Good !) Is there the Pro6lor, or Do6lor indeed, i'the Dioceffe, that euer had the fortune to win him fuch a Win\ (There I am againe !) I doe feele conceits comming vpon mee, more 15 then I am able to turne tongue too. A poxe o'thefe pre- tenders, to wit ! your Three Crazies, Miter, and Mermaid men ! Not a corne of true fait, nor a graine of right muflard amongfl them all. They may fland for places or fo, againe the next Wit fall, and pay two pence in a quart 20 more for their Canary, then other men. But gi'mee the man, can flart vp a lujlice of Wit out of fix-fliillings beare, and giue the law to all the Poets, and Poet-fuckers i'Towne, becaufe they are the Players Goffips ? 'Slid, other men haue wiues as fine as the Players, and as well drefl. Come 25 hither, Win. Act. I. Scene. IJ. VVlN-WIFE. LiTTLEVVIT. WiN. TyTT 7"Hy, how now Mailer Little-wit\ meafuring of lips? or molding of kiffes ? which is it ? LiTT. Troth I am a little taken with my Wijis dreffing here ! Do'fl not fine Mailer Win-wife ? How doe you 30 apprehend, Sir? Shee would not ha'worne this habit. 17 nor] not i6g2, 17 16, W, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 13 I challenge all Cheapfide^ to fhew fuch another: Morefields, Pimlico path, or the Exchange, in a fommer euening, with a Lace to boot as this has. Deare Win, let Mafler Win- wife kiffe you. Hee comes a wooing to our mother Win, and may be our father perhaps, Win. There's no harme 5 in him, Win. WiN-w. None i'the earth, Mailer Little-wit. LiTT. I enuy no man, my delicates. Sir. WiN-w. Alas, you ha'the garden where they grow Hill ! A wife heere with a Stratvbery-\iXt,2X\\, Chery-Vv^'s, Apricot- 10 cheekes, and a foft veluet head, like a Melicotton. LiTT. Good y'faith! now dulneffe vpon mee, that I had not that before him, that I fliould not light on't, as well as he! Veluet head! WiN-w. But my tafle, Mafler Little-wit, tends to frui6l 15 of a later kinder the fober Matron, yovir wiues mother. LiTT. I ! wee know you are a Suitor, Sir. Win, and I both, wifh you well ; by this Licence here, would you had her, that your two names were as fafl in it, as here are a couple. Win would faine haue a fine young father i'law, 20 withafether: that her mother might hood it, and chaine [3] it, with Miflris Ouer-doo. But, you doe not take the right courfe, Mafler Win-wife. WiN-w. No ? Mafler Litle-wit, why ? Lit. You are not madde enough. 25 WiN-w. How? Is madneffe a right courfe ? Lit. I fay nothing, but I winke vpon Win. You haue a friend, one (Mafler Quarlous) comes here fome times ? WiN-w. Why ? he makes no loue to her, do's he ? Lit. Not a tokenworth that euer I faw, I affure you, 30 But— WiN-w. What ? Lit. He is the more Mad-cap o'the two. You doe not apprehend mee. Win. You haue a hot coale i'your mouth, now, you 35 cannot hold. 16 later] laUer i6q2, 1716, W 14 Bartholmevv Fayre. Lit. Let mee out with it, deare IVi'n. Win. I'll tell him my felfe. Lit. Doe, and take all the thanks, and much do good thy pretty heart, IVm. 5 Win. Sir, my mother has had her natiuity-water cafl lately by the Cunning men in Cora-lane, and they ha'told her her fortune, and doe enfure her, Ihce fiiall neuer haue happy houre; vnleffe fhee marry within this fen'night, and when it is, it mufl be a Madde-man, they fay. lo Lit. I, but it mufl be a Gentle-man Mad-man. Win. Yes, fo the tother man of More-fields fayes. WiN-w. But do's fhee beleeue 'hem ? Lit. Yes, and ha's beene at Bedlem twice fmce, euery day, to enquire if any Gentleman be there, or to come 15 there, mad! WiN-w. Why, this is a confederacy, a meere piece of pra<5lice vpon her, by thefe Impojlors ? Lit. I tell her fo ; or elfe fay I, that they meane fome young-Madcap-Gentleman (for the diuell can equiuocate, as 20 well as a Shop-keeper) and therefore would I aduife you, to be a little madder, then Mafler Quarlous, hereafter. Win. Where is fhee ? flirring yet ? Lit. Stirring! Yes, and fludying an old Elder, come from Banbury, a Suitor that puts in heere at meale-tyde, 25 to praife the painefuU brethren, or pray that the fweet fingers may be redor'd ; Sayes a grace as long as his breath lafls him ! Some time the fpirit is fo flrong with him, it gets quite out of him, and then my mother, or Win, are faine to fetch it againe with Malmefey, or Aqua 30 ccelejiis. Win. Yes indeed, we haue fuch a tedious life with him for his dyet, and his clothes too, he breaks his buttons, and cracks feames at euery faying he fobs out. loH. He cannot abide my Vocation, he fayes. 35 Win. No, he told my mother, a Prober was a claw [4] of the Beajl, and that fhe had little leffe then committed abomination in marrying me fo as fhe ha's done. 17 Impojlors f\ Impostors, ibgs, 17 16, W, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 15 lOH. Euery line (he fayes) that a ProHor writes, when it comes to be read in the Bifhops Court, is a long blacke hayre, kemb'd out of the tayle of Anti-Chrijl. WiN-w. When came this Profelyte ? loH. Some three dayes fince. Act. I. Scene. IIJ. QVARLOVS, lOHN, VViN, VVlN-VVIFE. /^ Sir, ha'you tane foyle, here ? it's well, a man may reach you, after 3. houres running, yet ! what an vnmercifull companion art thou, to quit thy lodging, at fuch vngentle manly houres ? None but a fcatterd couey of Fidlers, or one of thefe Rag-rakers in dung-hills, or 10 fome Marrow-bone man at mofl, would haue beene vp, when thou wert gone abroad, by all defcription. I pray thee what aylefl thou, thou canft not fleepe ? hafl thou Thornes i'thy eye-lids, or Thiflles i'thy bed. WiN-w. I cannot tell : It feemes you had neither i' 15 your feet; that tooke this paine to find me. QvAR. No, and I had, all the Lime-hounds o'the City fhould haue drawne after you, by the fent rather, M' lohn Little-wit ! God faue you, Sir. 'Twas a hot night with fome of vs, laft night, lo/in : fhal we pluck a hayre o'the 20 fame Wolfe, to da}^ Pro6lor lo/in ? loH. Doe you remember Mafter Quarlous, what wee difcourft on, laft night ? QvAR. Not I, lohn : nothing that I eyther difcourfe or doe, at thofe times I forfeit all to forgetfulneffe. 25 lOH. No ? not concerning IVin, looke you : there fhee is, and dreft as I told you fhe ftiould be: harke you Sir, had you forgot ? 14 bed.] Bed? /6/;;/, if you vfe this. WiN-w. Pray thee forbeare, for my refpe6l fomewhat. QvAR. Hoy-day! how refpe(5tiue you are become o'the 35 fudden ! I feare this family will turne you reformed too, 2 I drunke] I am drunk i6g2, 1716, IV, G : Cun. suggests I drink. 20 friends] Friend i6g2, 1716, W, G 23 The first Win followed by a colon j6g2, ijiO, IV, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 17 pray you come about againe. Becaufe flie is in poffibility to be your davxghter in law, and may aske you bleffing hereafter, when (he courts it to Totnavi to eat creame. Well, I will forbeare. Sir, but i'faith, would thou wouldll leaue thy exercife of widdow-hunting once! this drawing 5 after an old reuerend Smocke by the fplay-foote : There cannot be an ancient Tripe or Trillibub i'the Towne, but thou art flraight nofmg it, and 'tis a fine occupation thou'lt confine thy felfe to, when thou ha'fl got one; fcrubbing a piece of Bufife, as if thou hadfl the perpetuity of Paiwyer- 10 alley to flinke in ; or perhaps, worfe, currying a carkaffe, that thou hafl bound thy felfe to aliue. I'll befworne, fome of them, (that thou art, or hafl. beene a Suitor to) are fo old, as no chart, or marryed pleafure can euer become 'hem : the honeft Inflrument of procreation, has (forty yeeres 15 fince) left to belong to 'hem, thou murt vifit 'hem, as thou wouldrt doe a Tombe, with a Torch, or three hand-fulls of Lincke, flaming hot, and fo thou mairt hap to make 'hem feele thee, and after, come to inherit according to thy inches. A fweet courfe for a man to wafte the brand of life for, to 20 be ftill raking himfelfe a fortune in an old womans em- bers ; we fliall ha'thee after thou haft beene but a moneth marryed to one of 'hem, looke like the quartane ague, and the black laundife met in a face, and walke as if thou had'ft borrow'd legges of a Spinner, and voyce of a Cricket. I 25 would endure to heare fifteene Sermons aweeke for her, and fuch courfe, and lowd one's, as fome of 'hem muft be; I would een defire of Fate, I might dwell in a drumme, and take in my fuftenance, with an old broken Tobacco- pipe and a Straw. Doft thou euer thinke to bring thine [6] eares or ftomack, to the patience of a drie grace, as long as thy Tablecloth ? and droan'd out by thy fonne, here, (that might be thy father;) till all the meat o'thy board has forgot, it was that day i'the Kitchin ? Or to brooke the noife made, in a qvieftion of Predejlination, by the 35 good labourers and painefull eaters, affembled together, 27 and such coarse and loud ones W, G 1 8 Bartholmevv Fayre. put to 'hem by the Matron, your Spoufe; who moderates with a cup of wine, euer and anone, and a Sentence out of Knoxe between ? or the perpetuall fpitting, before, and after a fober drawne exhortation of fix houres, whofe better 5 part was the hum-ha-hum ? Or to heare prayers groan'd out, ouer thy iron-chefls, as if they were charmes to breake 'hem ? And all this for the hope of two ^/<9/?/^-fpoones, to fuffer ! and a cup to eate a cawdle in! For that will be thy legacy. She'll ha'conuey'd her flate, fafe enough lo from thee, an' fhe be a right widdow. Win. Alaffe, I am quite off that fent now. QvAR. How fo ? WiNw. Put off by a Brother of Banbury^ one, that, they fay, is come heere, and gouernes all, already. 15 QvAR. What doe you call him ? I knew diuers of thofe Banburians when I was in Oxford. WiN-w. Mafler Little-wit can tell vs. loH. Sir ! good Win, goe in, and if Mafler Barthol- mew Cokes — his man come for the Licence: (the little old 20 fellow) let him fpeake with me ; what fay you. Gentle- men ? WiN-w. What call you the Reuerend Elder ? you told me of ? your Banbury-va?ir\. loH. Rabbi Bufy, Sir, he is more then an Elder, he is a 25 Prophet, Sir. QvAR. O, I know him ! a Baker, is he not ? loH. Hee was a Baker, Sir, but hee do's dreame now, and fee vifions, hee has giuen ouer his Trade. QvAR. I remember that too : out of a fcruple hee tooke, 30 that (in fpic'd confcience) thofe Cakes hee made, were feru'd to Bridales, May-poles, Morriffes, and fuch prophane feafls and meetings ; his Chriflen-name is Zeale-of-the-latid. loH. Yes, Sir, Zeale-of-the-la/id Bufye. WiN-w. How, what a name's there ! 35 loH. O, they haue all fuch names. Sir; he was Witneffe, for Win, here, (they will not be call'd God-fathers) and nam'd her VVinne-the- fight, you thought her name had beene VVinnifred, did you not ? Bartholmevv Fayre. 19 WiN-w. I did indeed. loH. Hee would ha'thought himfelfe a ftarke Repro- bate, if it had. QvAR. I, for there was a Blew-starch-woman o'the name, at the fame time, A notable hypocriticall vermine 5 it is ; I know him. One that fLands vpon his face, more then his faith, at all times ; Euer in feditious motion, and [7] reprouing for vaine-glory : of a mofl lunatique confcience, and fplene, and affe6ls the violence of Singularity in all he do's: (He has vndone a Grocer here, in Newgate-market, 10 that broke with him, trufled him with Currans, as errant a Zeale as he, that's by the way: by his profefl'ion, hee will euer be i'the flate of Innocence, though; and child-hood; derides all Antiquity; defies any other Z^ar;//;;^, then Infpir- ation\ and what difcretion foeuer, yeeres fhould afford him, 15 it is all preuented in his Originall ignorance; ha'not to doe with him : for hee is a fellow of a mofl arrogant, and in- uincible dulneffe, I affure you ; who is this ? Act. I. ScEENE. IIIJ. . Waspe. Iohn. Win-wife. Qvarlovs. T> Y your leaue, Gentlemen, with all my heart to you: and god you good morrow; M'' Little-ivit^ my bufi- 20 neffe is to you. Is this Licence ready ? loH. Heere, I ha'it for you, in my hand, yia.^eY Humph- rey. Was. That's well, nay, neuer open, or read it to me, it's labour in vaine, you know. I am no Clearke, I fcorne 25 to be fau'd by my booke, i'faith I'll hang firfl; fold it vp o' your word and gi'it mee; what mufl you ha'for't ? II arrant G, as regularly 20 god you] God give you 769.?, ijib : give you W 20 Bartholmevv Fayre. loH. We'll talke of that anon, Mafler Humphrey. Was. Now, or not at all, good M"^ ProHor, I am for no anon's, I affure you. loH. Sweet Win, bid Salomon fend mee the little blacke 5 boxe within, in my fludy. Was. I, quickly, good Miflreffe, I pray you: for I haue both egges o'the Spit, and yron i'the fire, fay, what you muH haue, good M"" Little-wit. loH, Why, you know the price, M'' Numps. lo Was. I know ? I know nothing. I, what tell you mee of knowing? (now I am in hafl) Sir, I do not know, and I will not know, and I fcorne to know, and yet, (now I think o'nt) I will, and do know, as well as another; you must haue a Marks for your thing here, and eight pence for 15 the boxe; I could ha'fau'd two pence i'that, an' I had bought it my felfe, but heere's foureteene JJiillings for you. Good Lord! how long your little wife flaies! pray God, Salomon,, your Gierke, be not looking i'the wrong boxe, M'' FroBor. 20 loH. Good i'faith ! no, I warrant you, Salomoji is wifer then fo, Sir. [8] Was. Fie, fie, fie, by your leaue Mafler Little-wit, this is fcuruy, idle, foolifh and abominable, with all my heart ; I doe not like it. 25 WiN-w. Doe you heare? Lacke Little-wit, what bufineffe do's thy pretty head thinke, this fellow may haue, that he keepes fuch a coyle with ? QvAR. More then buying of ginger-bread i'the Cloy- Jler, here, (for that wee allow him) or a guilt pouch i'the 30 Fayre ? loH. Mafler Quarlous, doe not miflake him: he is his Mailers both-hands, I affure you. QvAR. What? to pull on his boots, a mornings, or his flockings, do's hee ? 35 loH. Sir, if you haue a minde to mocke him, mocke him foftly, and looke to'ther way: for if hee apprehend you flout him, once, he will flie at you prefently. A ter- rible tellie old fellow, and his name is Wafpe too. BaRTHOLMEVV FaYRE. 21 QvAR. Pretty InfeH ! make much on him. Was. a plague o'this box, and the poxe too, and on him that made it, and her that went for't, and all that fhould ha'fought it, fent it, or brought it! doe you fee, Sir? loH. Nay, good M"" Wafpe. 5 Was. Good Mafter Hornet^ turd i'your teeth, hold you your tongue; doe not I know you? your father was a Fothecary, and fold glillers, more then hee gaue, I wuffe : and turd i'your little wiues teeth too (heere fhe comes) 'twill make her fpit as fine as fhe is, for all her veluet- 10 cullerd on her head. Sir. loH. O! be ciuill Mafler Numpes. Was. Why, fay I haue a humour not to be ciuill; how then ? who fliall compell me ? you ? loH. Here is the boxe, now. 15 Was. Why a pox o'your boxe, once againe: let your little wife flale in it, and fhe will. Sir, I would haue you to vnderfland, and thefe Gentlemen too, if they pleafe — WiN-w. With all our hearts. Sir. Was. That I haue a charge. Gentlemen. 20 loH. They doe apprehend, Sir. Was. Pardon me, Sir, neither they nor you, can appre- hend mee, yet. (you are an Affe) I haue a young Mafler, hee is now vpon his making and marring; the whole care of his well doing, is now mine. His foolirti fchole- 25 maflers haue done nothing, but runne vp and downe the Countrey with him, to beg puddings, and cake-bread, of his tennants, and almost fpoyled him, he has learn'd nothing, but to fing catches^ and repeat rattle bladder rattle, and O, Madge. I dare not let him walke alone, for feare 30 of learning of vile tunes, which hee will fing at fupper, and in the fermon-times ! if hee meete but a Carman i'the flreete, and I finde him not talke to keepe him off on him, hee will whiflle him, and all his tunes ouer, at night in his lleepe! he has a head full of Bees! I am faine now [9] (for this little time I am abfent) to leaue him in charge with a Gentlewoman; 'Tis true, fliee is A lujlice of Peace 2 2 Bartholmevv Fayre. his wife, and a Gentlewoman o'the hood, and his naturall fifler: But what may happen, vnder a womans gouern- ment, there's the doubt. Gentlemen, you doe not know him: hee is another manner of peece then you think for! 5 but nineteen yeere old, and yet hee is taller then either of you, by the head, God bleffe him. QvAR. Well, mee thinkes, this is a fine fellow! WiN-w. He has made his Mafler a finer by this defcrip- tion, I fhould thinke. lo QvAR. 'Faith, much about one, it's croffe and pile, whether for a new farthing. Was. I'll tell you Gentlemen — loH. Will't pleafe you drinke, Mafler VVafpel Was. Why, I ha'not talk't fo long to be drie. Sir, you 15 fee no duft or cobwebs come out o'my mouth: doe you ? you'ld ha'me gone, would you ? loH. No, but you were in haft e'en now, M'' Nimipes. Was. What an* I were ? f o I am flill, and yet I will flay too; meddle you with your match, your Win, there, 20 fhe has as little wit, as her husband it feemes: I haue others to talke to. loH. She's my match indeede, and as little wit as I, Good! Was. We ha'bin but a day and a halfe in towne, Gen- 25 tlemen, 'tis true; and yefler day i'the afternoone, we walk'd London, to fhew the City to the Gentlewoman, he (hall marry, Miflreffe Grace; but, afore I will endure fuch another halfe day, with him, I'll be drawne with a good Gib-cat, through the great pond at home, as his vncle 30 Hodge was! why, we could not meet that heathen thing, all day, but flayd him: he would name you all the Signes ouer, as hee went, aloud: and where he fpi'd a Parrat, or a Monkey, there hee was pitch'd, with all the littl-long- coats about him, male and female; no getting him away! 35 I thought he would ha'runne madde o'the blacke boy in Bucklers-bury, that takes the fcury, roguy tobacco, there. 5 years j6g2, 17 16, JV, G 30 all the day W, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 23 loH. You fay true, M.2i?iQr Numpes: there's fuch a one indeed. Was. It's no matter, whether there be, or no, what's that to you ? QvAR. He will not allow of Johns reading at any hand, 5 Act. I. Scene. V. [lo] Cokes. Miftris Over-doo. Waspe. Grace. QvARLOvs. Win-wife. Iohn. Win. t~\ Numpes ! are you here Numpes ? looke where I am, Numpes ! and Miflris Grace, too ! nay, doe not looke angerly, Numpes : my Sifler is heere, and all, I doe not come without her. Was. What, the mifchiefe, doe you come with her ? or 10 fhee with you ? CoK. We came all to feeke you, Numpes. Was. To feeke mee ? why, did you all thinke I was loft ? or runne away with your foureteene fliillings worth of fmall ware, here ? or that I had chang'd it i'the Fayre, 15 for hobby-horfes i* S'pretious — to feeke me! Over. Nay, good M"^ Numpes, doe you fhew difcretion, though he bee exoribitant, (as M"' Ouer-doo faies,) and't be but for conferuation of Xho. peace. Was. Mary gip, goody (\\e-lujlice, Miflris French-hood ! 20 turd i'your teeth ; and turd i'your French-hoods teeth, too, to doe you feruice, doe you fee ? mufl you quote your Adam to me ! you thinke, you are Madam Regent flill, Miflris Ouer-doo ; when I am in place ? no fuch matter, I affure you, your raigne is out, when I am in, Dame. 25 Over. I am content to be in abeyance, Sir, and be gouern'd by you ; fo fhould hee too, if he did well ; but 'twill be expe6led, you fhould alfo gouerne your paffions. 24 Bartholmevv Fayre. Was. Will't fo forfooth ? good Lord ! how fliarpe you are ! with being at Beflem yeflerday ? VVhetJlon has fet an edge vpon you, has hee ? Over. Nay, if you know not what belongs to your 5 dignity : I doe, yet, to mine. Was. Very well, then. CoK. Is this the Licence, Numpes ? for Loues fake, let me fee't. I neuer faw a Licence. Was. Did you not fo ? why, you fhall not fee't, then, lo CoK. An' you loue mee, good JVumpes. Was. Sir, I loue you, and yet I do not loue you, i* thefe fooleries, fet your heart at refl ; there's nothing in't, but hard words : and what would you fee't for ? CoK. I would fee the length and the breadth on't, 15 that's all ; and I will fee't now, fo I will. Was. You fha'not fee it, heere. CoK. Then I'll fee't at home, and I'll looke vpo'the cafe heere. Was. Why, doefo, a man mufl giue way to him a little [11] in trifles : Gentlemen. Thefe are errors, difeafes of youth : which he will mend, when he comes to iudgement, and knowledge of matters. I pray you conceiue fo, and I thanke you. And I pray you pardon him, and I thanke you againe. 25 QvAR. Well, this dry-nurfe, I fay flill, is a delicate man. WiN-w. And I, am, for the Coffet, his charge ! Did you euer fee a fellowes face more accufe him for an Affe ? QvAR. Accufe him ? it confeffes him one without accuf- ing. What pitty 'tis yonder wench fhould marry fuch a 30 Cokes ? WiN-w. 'Tis true. QvAR, Shee feemes to be difcreete, and as fober as fhee is handfome. WiN-w. I, and if you marke her, what a reflrain'd 35 fcorne fhe cafts vpon all his behauiour, and fpeeches ? CoK. Well, Nicmpes, I am now for another piece of bufineffe more, the Fayre, Nu7npes, and then — Bartholmevv Fayre. 25 Was. Bleffe me ! deliuer me, helpe, hold mee ! the Fayre ! CoK. Nay, neuer fidge vp and downe, Niunpes^ and vexe it felfe. I am refolute Barthobnew^ in this ; Il'e make no fuite on't to you ; 'twas all the end of my iour- 5 ney, indeed, to fhew Miflris Grace my Fayre: I call't my Fayre, because of Barfholmew. you know my name is Bartholmew, and Barthobneiv Fayre. loH. That was mine afore. Gentlemen : this morning. I had that i'faith, vpon his Licence, beleeue me, there he 10 comes, after me. QvAR. Come, lohn, this ambitious wit of yours, (I am afraid) will doe you no good i'the end. loH. No ? why Sir ? QvAR. You grow fo infolent with it, and ouerdoing, 15 lohn : that if you looke not to it, and tie it vp, it will bring you to fome obfcure place in time, and there 'twill leaue you. WiN-w. Doe not trull it too much, lohn, be more fparing, and vfe it, but now and then ; a wit is a danger- 20 ous thing, in this age ; doe not ouer buy it. loH. Thinke you fo. Gentlemen ? I'll take heed on't, hereafter. Win. Yes, doe lohn. CoK. A prety little foule, this fame Miflris Little-wit ! 25 would I might marry her. Gra. So would I, or any body elfe, fo I might fcape you, CoK. Nicrnps, I will fee it, Nti?npes, 'tis decreed : neuer be melancholy for the matter. 30 Was. Why, fee it. Sir, fee it, doe fee it ! who hinders you ? why doe you not goe fee it ? 'Slid fee it. CoK. The Fayre, Numps, the Fayre. Was. Would the Fayre and all the Drums, and Rattles in't, were i'your belly for mee : they are already i'your 35 braine : he that had the meanes to trauell you head, now, 36 your head i6g2, lyib, IV, G 26 Bartholmevv Fayre. fhould meet finer fights then any are i'the Fayre ; and [6] make a finer voyage on't ; to fee it all hung with cockle- fhels, pebbles, fine wheat-flrawes, and here and there a chicken's feather, and a cob-web. 5 QvAR. Goodfaith, hee lookes, me thinkes an' you marke him, like one that were made to catch flies, with his Sir Crajiion-leg^s. WiN-w. And his Nmnpes, to flap 'hem away. Was. God, bew'you, Sir, there's your Bee in a box, and lo much good doo't, you. CoK. Why, your friend, and Bartholmew ; an' you be fo contumacious. QvAR, What meane you, Ntunpest Was. I'll not be guilty, I, Gentlemen. 15 Over. You will not let him goe. Brother, and loofe him ? CoK. Who can hold that will away ? I had rather loofe him then the Fayre, I wuffe. Was. You doe not know the inconuenience, Gentlemen, 20 you perfwade to: nor what trouble I haue with him in thefe humours. If he goe to the Fayre, he will buy of euery thing, to a Baby there; and houfhold-fluffe for that too. If a legge or an arme on him did not grow on, hee would lofe it i'the preffe. Pray heauen I bring him off 25 with one flone! And then he is fuch a Rauener after fruite! you will not beleeue what a coyle I had, t'other day, to compound a bufineffe betweene a Katerne-'^Q2iX&- woman, and him, about fnatching! 'tis intolerable. Gen- tlemen. 30 WiN-w. O! but you mufl. not leaue him, now, to thefe hazards, Nmnpes. Was. Nay, hee knowes too well, I will not leaue him, and that makes him prefume: well. Sir, will you goe now? if you haue fuch an itch i'your feete, to foote it to the 35 Fayre, why doe you Hop, am I your Tarriars? goe, will you goe? Sir, why doe you not goe? 2 [6] err 07- for [12] 15 loofe] lose i6g2, 1716, W, G 18 loofe] lose i6g2, 17 16, W, G 35 I [o'] your tarriers G Bartholmevv Fayre. '"' 27 CoK. O Numps\ haue I brought you about? come Miftreffe Grace, and Sifter, I am refolute Batt, i'faith, ftill. Gra. Truely, I haue no fuch fancy to the Fayre \ nor ambition to fee it; there's none goes thither of any quality or fafhion. 5 CoK. O Lord, Sir! you ftiall pardon me, Miftris Grace, we are inow of our felues to make it a fafhion : and for qualities, let Numps alone, he'l finde qualities. QvAR. What a Rogue in apprehenfion is this! to vnder- ftand her language no better. 10 WlN-w. I, and offer to marry to her ? well, I will leaue the chafe of my widdow, for to day, and dire6lly to the Fayre. Thefe flies cannot, this hot feafon, but engen- der vs excellent creeping fport. QvAR. A man that has but a fpoone full of braine, 15 would think fo. Farewell, lohn. loH. Win, you fee, 'tis in fafhion, to goe to the Fayre, Win: we muft to the Fayre too, you, and I, Win. I haue an affaire i'the Fayre, Win, a Puppet-play of mine owne making, fay nothing, that I writ for the motion man, which [3] you muft fee, Win. Win. I would I might John, but my mother will neuer confent to fuch 2i prophane motio7i: fhe will call it. loH. Tut, we'll haue a deuice, a dainty one; (Now, Wit, helpe at a pinch, good Wit come, come, good Wit, 25 and't be thy will.) I haue it. Win, I haue it 'ifaith, and 'tis a fine one. Win, long to eate of a Pigge, fweet Witi^ i'the Fayre; doe you fee? i'the heart o'the Fayre; not at Pye-Corfier. Your mother will doe any thing, JVin, to fat- isfie your longing, you know, pray thee long, prefently, 30 and be ficke o'the fudden, good Win. I'll goe in and tell her, cut thy lace i'the meane time, and play the Hypocrite, fweet Win. Win. No, FU not make me vnready for it. I can be Hypocrite enough, though I were neuer fo ftraight lac'd. 35 II to marry her 77/6, W, G 20 \^ error for \\'i\ 28 "' Bartholmevv Fayre, lOH. You fay true, you haue bin bred i'the family, and brought vp to 't. Our mother is a mofl ele6l Hypocrite, and has maintain'd us all this feuen yeere with it, like Gentle- folkes. Win. I, Let her alone, lohn, fhe is not a wife wilfull widdow for nothing, nor a fan6lified fifler for a fong. And let me alone too, I ha'fomewhat o'the mother in me, you fhall fee, fetch her, fetch her, ah, ah. Act. I. Scene. VI. PVRECRAFT. VVlN. lOHN. BvSY. Salomon. "^TOw, the blaze of the beauteous difcipline, fright away lo this euill from our houfe! how now Win-the- fight, Child: how do you ? Sweet child, fpeake to me. Win. Yes, forfooth. PvR. Looke vp, fweet Win-the- fight, and fuffer not the enemy to enter you at this doore, remember that your 15 education has bin with the purell, what polluted one was it, that nam'd firfL the vncleane beafl, Pigge, to you, Child ? Win. (Vh, vh.) lOH. Not I, o'my fmcerity, mother: fhe long'd aboue three houres, ere fhe would let me know it; who was it 20 Win ? Win. a prophane blacke thing with a beard, lohfi. PvR. O ! refill it, Win- the -fight, it is the Tempter, the wicked Tempter, you may know it by the fiefhly motion of Pig, be flrong againfl it, and it's foule temptations, in 25 thefe affaults, whereby it broacheth flefli and blood, as it were, on the weaker fide, and pray againfl it's carnall prouocations, good child, fweet child, pray. [14] loH. Good mother, I pray you ; that fhe may eate fome Pigge, and her belly full, too; and doe not you cafl away Bartholmevv Fayre. 29 your owne child, and perhaps one of mine, with your tale of the Tempter: how doe you, JVin ? Are you not ficke ? Win. Yes, a great deale, lo/i^i, (vh, vh.) PvR. What fhall we doe ? call our zealous brother Bu/y hither, for his faithfull fortification in this charge of the 5 aduerfary; child, my deare childe, you fhall eate Pigge, be comforted, my fweet child. Win. I, but i'the Fayre, mother. PvR. I meane i'the Fayre, if it can be any way made, or found lawfuU; where is our brother jS'/^/)^ ? Will hee 10 not come ? looke vp, child. loH. Prefently, mother, as foone as he has cleanf'd his beard. I found him, fafl by the teeth, i'the cold Turkey- pye, i'the cupbord, with a great white loafe on his left hand, and a glaffe of Malmefey on his right. 15 PvR. Slander not the Brethren, wicked one. loH. Here hee is, now, purified, Mother. PvR. O brother Bufy\ your helpe heere to edifie, and raife vs vp in a fcruple; my daughter Win-the- fight \s vifited with a naturall difeafe of women; call'd, A longing to 20 eate Pigge. loH. I Sir, a Barthohnew-Tpi^^Q: and in the Fayre. PvR. And I would be fatisfied from you, Religioufly- wife, whether a widdow of the fan6lified affembly, or a widdowes daughter, may commit the a6l, without offence 25 to the weaker fiflers. Bvs. Verily, for the difeafe of longing, it is a difeafe, a carnall difeafe, or appetite, incident to women: and as it is carnall, and incident, it is naturall, very naturall: Now Pigge, it is a meat, and a meat that is nourifhing, 30 and may be long'd for, and fo confequently eaten ; it may be eaten ; very exceeding well eaten : but in the Fayre, and as a Bartholmew-^\^, it cannot be eaten, for the very calling it a Bartholmew-'^\^^e, and to eat it fo, is a fpice of Idolatry, and you make the Fayre, no better then one of 35 the high Places. This I take it, is the flate of the queflion. A high place. 2 how do you do, Win W, G 3° Bartholmevv Fayre. loH. I, but in flate of neceffity: Place fhould giue ' place, M'^ Bufy^ (I have a conceit left, yet.) PvR. Good Brother, Zeale-of-the-land^ thinke to make it as lawfull as you can. 5 loH. Yes Sir, and as foone as you can : for it mufl be Sir; you fee the danger my little wife is in. Sir. PvR. Truely, I doe loue my child dearely, and I would not haue her mifcarry, or hazard her firfl fruites, if it might be otherwife. lo Bvs. Surely, it may be otherwife, but it is fubie6l, to confLru6lion, fubie6l, and hath a face of offence, with the [15] weake, a great face, a foule face, but that face may haue a vaile put ouer it, and be ftiaddowed, as it were, it may be eaten, and in the Fayre, I take it, in a Booth, the tents of 15 the wicked: the place is not much, not very much, we may be religious in midfl of the prophane, fo it be eaten with a reformed mouth, with fobriety, and humbleneffe; not gorg'd in with gluttony, or greedineffe; there's the feare: for, fhould fhe goe there, as taking pride in the 20 place, or delight in the vncleane dreffing, to feed the van- ity of the eye, or the lufl of the palat, it were not well, it were not fit, it were abominable, and not good. loH. Nay, I knew that afore, and told her on't, but courage, Win, we'll be humble enough; we'll feeke out 25 the homeliefl Booth i'the Fayre, that's certaine, rather then faile, wee'll eate it o'the ground. PvR. I, and I'll goe with you my felfe, Win-the- fight , and my brother, Zeale-of-the-land, fhall goe with vs too, for our better confolation. 30 Win. Vh, vh. lOH. I, and Salomon too, Win, (the more the merrier) Win, we'll leaue Rabhy Bufy in a Booth. Salomon, my cloake. Sal. Here, Sir. 35 Bvs. In the way of comfort to the weake, I will goe, and eat. I will eate exceedingly, and prophefie; there 13 it were,] it were ; iyi6, W, G 16 in midfl] in the midst W, G 21 or the lufl] or lust iyi6, IV, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 31 may be a good vfe made of it, too, now I thinke on't: by the publike eating of Swines flefh, to profeffe our hate, and loathing of ludaifme, whereof the brethren fland taxed. I will therefore eate, yea, I will eate exceedingly. loH. Good, i'faith, I will eate heartily too, because I will be no leiv^ I could neuer away with that ftiffenecked generation: and truely, I hope my little one will be like me, that cries for Pigge fo, i'the mothers belly. Bvs. Very likely, exceeding likely, very exceeding likely. Act. II. Scene. I. IVSTICE OVERDOO. 10 [16] WEU, in luflice name, and the Kings; and for the common-wealth ! defie all the world, Adam Ouerdoo, for a difguife, and all Jlor-y\ for thou hafl fitted thy felfe, I fweare; faine would I meet the Zincetis now, that Eagles eye, that peircing ^/- le daurian ferpent (as my Quint. Horace cal's him) that could difcouer a luflice of Peace, (and lately of the Quorum) vnder this couering. They may haue feene many a foole in the habite of a luflice; but neuer till now, a luflice in the habit of a foole. Thus mufl we doe, though, that wake 20 for the publike good : and thus hath the wife Magiflrate done in all ages. There is a doing of right out of wrong, if the way be fovind. Neuer fhall I enough commend a worthy worfhipfull man, fometime a capitall member of this City, for his high wifdome, in this point, who would 2^ take you, now the habit of a Porter; now of a Carman; now of the Dog-killer, in this moneth oiAuguJi\ and in the winter, of a Seller of tinder-boxes; and what would hee doe in all thefe fhapes ? mary goe you into euery Alehoufe, G makes but one scene of Act II. 32 Bartholmevv Fayre. and down into euery Celler; meafure the length of pud- dings, take the gage of blacke pots, and Cannes, I, and cuflards with a flicke; and their circumference, with a thrid; weigh the loaues of bread on his middle-finger; 5 then would he fend for 'hem, home; giue the puddings to the poore, the bread to the hungry, the cuflards to his children; breake the pots, and burne the Cannes, himfelfe; hee Would not trufl his corrupt officers ; he would do't him- felfe. would all men in authority would follow this wor- lo thy prefident! For (alas) as we are publike perfons, what doe we know ? nay, what can wee know ? wee heare with other mens eares; we fee with other mens eyes? a foolifh [17] Conllable, or a fleepy Watchman, is all our information, he llanders a Gentleman, by the vertue of his place, (as he 15 calls it) and wee by the vice of ours, muft beleeue him. As a while agone, they made mee, yea me, to miflake an honefl zealous Purfiuant, for a Seminary : and a proper yong Batcheler of Muficke, for a Bawd. This wee are fubie6l to, that Hue in high place, all our intelligence is 20 idle, and mofl of our intelligencers, knaues: and by your leaue, our felues, thought little better, if not errant fooles, for beleeuing 'hem. I Adam Ouerdoo, am refolu'd there- fore, to fpare fpy-money hereafter, and make mine owne difcoueries. Many are the yeerely enormities of this Fayre, 25 in whofe courts of Pye-poiildres I haue had the honour during the three dayes fometimes to fit as fudge. But this is the fpecial day for dete6lion of thofe forefaid enormi- ties. Here is my blacke booke, for the purpofe; this the cloud that hides me: vnder this couert I fhall fee, and not 30 be feene. On lunius Brutus. And as I began, fo Fll end: in luflice name, and the Kings ; and for the Common- wealth. 10 prefident] precedent W, G 12 eyes?] eyes. j6g2, 17 16, W, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 33 Act. II. Scene. II. Leatherhead. Trash. Ivstice. Vrsla. ' moone-calfe. nlgh^^ingale. Coftermonger. Pajjfengers. ^TpHe Fayre's peftelence dead, mee thinkes; people come not abroad, to day, what euer the matter is. Doe you heare. Sifter TraJ/i, Lady o'the Basket ? fit farther with your ginger -bread- progeny there, and hinder not the profpe6l of my fhop, or I'll ha'it proclaim'd i'the Fayre^ 5 what fluffe they are made on. Tra. Why, what fluffe are they made on. Brother Leatherhead'i nothing but what's wholefome, I affure you. Lea. Yes, flale bread, rotten egges, mufly ginger, and dead honey, you know. 10 Ivs. I ! haue I met with enormity, fo foone ? Lea. I fhall marre your market, old lone. Tra. Marre my market, thou too-proud Pedler? do thy worfl ; I defie thee, I, and thy liable of hobby-horfes. I pay for my ground, as well as thou dofl, and thovi 15 wrong'fl mee for all thou art parcell-poet, and an Inginer. I'll finde a friend fhall right me, and make a ballad of thee, and thy cattell all ouer. Are you puft vp with the pride of your w^ares ? your Arfedine ? Lea. Goe to, old lone, I'll talke with you anone; and 20 take you downe too, afore lustice Ouerdoo, he is the man [18] mufl charme you. He ha'you i'the Piepouldres. Tra. Charme me? I'll meet thee face to face, afore his worfhip, when thou dar'fl: and though I be a little' crooked o'my body, I'll be found as vpright in my deal- 25 ing, as any woman in Smithfield, I, charme me ? Ivs. I am glad, to heare, my name is their terror, yet, this is doing of luflice. 34 Bartholmevv Fayre. Lea. What doe you lacke ? what is't you buy ? what do you lacke ? Rattles, Drums, Halberts, Horfes, Babies o'the bea ? Fiddles o'th fineft ? lEnter Cojl. Cos. Buy any peares, peares, fine, very fine peares. 5 Tra. Buy any ginger-bread, guilt ginger-bread ! Nig. Hey, now the Fayre s a filling \ O, for a Tune to Jlartle The Birds o'the Booths here billing: Yeerely with old Saint Barthle ! lo The Drunkards they are wading, The Punques, and Chapmen trading ; Who Id fee the Fayre without his lading ? Buy any ballads; new ballads ? Vrs. Fye vpon't : who would weare out their youth, 15 and prime thus, in roafling of pigges, that had any cooler vocation ? Hell's a kind of cold cellar to't, a very fine vault, o'my conscience ! what Moone-calfe. Moo. Heere. Miflreffe. Nig. How now Vrfla ? in a heate, in a heat ? 20 Vrs. My chayre, you falfe faucet you; and my morn- ings draught, quickly, a botle of Ale, to quench mee, Rafcall. I am all fire and fat, Nightingale, I fhall e'en melt away to the firfL woman, a ribbe againe, I am afraid. I doe water the ground in knots, as I goe, like a great 25 Garden-pot, you may follow me by the S. S.^- I make. Nig. Alas, good Vrs ; was Zekiel heere this morning ? Vrs. Zekiel 1 what Zekiell Nig. Zekiel Fdgeworth, the ciuill cut-purfe, you know him well enough; hee that talkes bawdy to you ftill: I 30 call him my Secretary. Vrs. He promis'd to be heere this morning. I re- member. Nig. When he comes, bid him flay: I'll be backe againe prefently. 35 Vrs. Befl take your mornings dew in your belly. Nightingale, [Moon-ealfe brings in the CAaire.] come. Sir, fet 25 S. S.S-] S. S. i6g2, 17/6, JV, G 35 morning Dew i6g2, 1716, W, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 35 it heere, did not I bid you fliould get this chayre let out o'the fides, for me, that my hips might play ? you'll neuer thinke of any thing, till your dame be rumpgall'd ; 'tis well, Changeling : becaufe it can take in your Graffe-hop- pers thighes, you care for no more. Now, you looke as 5 you had been i'the corner o'the Booth, fleaing your breech, [19] with a candles end, and fet fire o'the Fayre. Fill, State : fill. Ivs. This Pig-woman doe I know, and I will put her in, for my fecond enormity, fhee hath beene before mee, 10 Punke^ Pinnace and Bawd, any time thefe two and twenty yeeres, vpon record i'the Pie-poudres. Vrs. Fill againe, you vnlucky vermine. Moo. 'Pray you be not angry, Miflreffe, I'll ha'it widen'd anone. 15 Vrs. No, no, I fliall e'en dwindle away to't, ere the Fayre be done, you thinke, now you ha'heated me? A poore vex'd thing I am, I feele my felfe dropping already, as fail as I can: two llone a fewet aday is my proportion: I can but hold life & foule together, with this (heere's to 20 you. Nightingale) and a whiffe of tobacco, at mofl, Where's my pipe now ? not fill'd ? thou errant Incubee. Nig. Nay, Vrfla, thou'lt gall betweene the tongue and the teeth, with fretting, now. Vrs. Hoav can I hope, that euer hee'll difcharge his 25 place of trufl, Tapfler, a man of reckoning vnder me, that remembers nothing I fay to him ? but looke too't, firrah, you were befl, three pence a pipe full, I will ha'made, of all my whole halfe pound of tabacco, and a quarter of a pound of Coltsfoot, mixt with it too, to itch it out. I that 30 haue dealt fo long in the fire, will not be to feek in fmoak, now. Then 6. and 20. fliillings a barrell I will aduance o' my Beere; and fifty fhillings a hundred o'my bottle-ale, I ha'told you the waies how to raife it. Froth your cannes well i'the filling, at length Rogue, and iogge your bottles 35 I this chayre] a chair W, G 28 befl;,] best. W, G 30 itch] each ibg2, iyi6, W: [eke] G 36 Bartholmevv Fayre. o'the buttocke, Sirrah, then skinke out the firfl glaffe, euer, and drinke with all companies, though you be fure to be drunke; you'll mif- reckon the better, and be leffe afham'd on't. But your true tricke, Rafcall, mull be, to 5 be euer bufie, and mif-take away the bottles and cannes, in had, before they be halfe drunke off, and neuer heare any body call, (if they fhould chance to marke you) till you ha'brought frefli, and be able to forfweare 'hem. Giue me a drinke of Ale. 10 Ivs. This is the very womhe, and bedde of enormitie! groffe, as her felfe! this mufl all downe for enormity, all, euery whit on't. [One knocks. Vrs. Looke, who's there, Sirrah ? fiue fhillings a Pigge is my price, at lead; if it be a fow-pig, fix pence more: if 15 fhe be a great bellied wife, and long for't, fix pence more for that. Ivs. O Tempora ! O mores ! I would not ha'lofl my dif- couery of this one grieuance, for my place, and worfhip o' the Bench., how is the poore fubie6l abus'd, here! well, I 20 will fall in with her, and with her Moone-calfe, and winne out wonders of enormity. By thy leaue, goodly w^oman, and the fatneffc of the Fayre : oyly as the Kings conflables Lampe, and fliining as his Shooing-horne! hath thy Ale vertue, or thy Beere flrength ? that the tongue of man may [20] be tickled? and his palat pleas'd in the morning? let thy pretty Nephew here, goe fearch and fee. Vrs. What new Roarer is this ? Moo. O Lord! doe you not know him, Miflris, 'tis mad Arthur of Bradley., that makes the Orations. Braue Mafler, 30 old Arthur of Bradley., how doe you ? welcome to the Fayre., when fhall wee heare you againe, to handle your matters ? with your backe againe a Booth, ha ? I ha'bin one o'your little difciples, i'my dayes! Ivs. Let me drinke, boy, with my loue, thy Aunt, here; 25 that I may be eloquent: but of thy befl, left it be bitter in' my mouth, and my words fall foule on the Fayre. Vrs. Why dofl thou not fetch him drinke ? and offer him to fit ? Bartholmevv Fayre. 37 Moo. Is't Ale, or Beere ? Mafler Arthur ? Ivs. Thy bed, pretty ftripling, thy bed; the fame thy Doue drinketh, and thou drawefl on holy dales. Vrs. Bring him a fixe penny bottle of Ale; they fay, a fooles handfell is lucky. 5 Ivs. Bring both, child. Ale for Arthur, and Beere for Bradley. Ale for thine Aunt, boy. My difguife takes to the very wifh, and reach of it. I fliall by the benefit of this, difcouer enough, and more: and yet get off with the repu- tation of what I would be. A certaine midling thing, 10 betweene a foole and a madman. Act. II. Scene III. Knockhvm. \to them. T 7"\ rHat! my little leane Vrfla ! my fhee-Beare! art thou aliue yet ? with thy litter of pigges, to grunt out another Bartholmeiv Fayrel ha! Vrs. Yes, and to amble afoote, when the Fayre is done, 15 to heare you groane out of a cart, vp the heauy hill. Kno. Of Holbourne, Vrfla, meanfL thou fo ? for what ? for what, pretty Vrf^. Vrs. For cutting halfe-penny purfes: or flealing little penny dogges, out o'the Fayre. 20 Kno. O ! good words, good words, Vrf. Ivs. Another fpeciall enormitie. A cutpurfe of the fword! the boote, and the feather! thofe are his marks. Vrs. You are one of thofe horfleaches, that gaue out I was dead, in Turne-buU flreete, of a furfet of botle ale, and 25 tripes ? Kno. No, 'twas better meat Vrs: cowes vdders, cowes vdders! Vrs. Well, I fliall be meet with your mumbling mouth [21] one day. 30 38 Bartholmevv Fayre. Kno. What ? thou'lt poyfon mee with a neuft in a bottle of Ale, will't thou ? or a fpider in a tobacco-pipe, Frs ? Come, there's no malice in thefe fat folkes, I neuer feare thee, and I can fcape thy leane Moonecalfe heere. Let's 5 drinke it out, good Vrs, and no vapours! Ivs. Dofl thou heare, boy ? (there's for thy Ale, and the remnant for thee) fpeake in thy faith of a faucet, now; is this goodly perfon before vs here, this vapours, a knight of the knife ? 10 Moo. What meane you by that, Mafler Arthur ? Ivs. I meane a child of the home-thumb, a babe of booty, boy ; a cutpurfe. Moo. O Lord, Sir ! far from it. This is Mafter Dan. Kiiockhum: lordane the Ranger of Turnebull. He is a horfe- 15 courfer. Sir. Ivs. Thy dainty dame, though, call'd him cutpurfe. Moo. Like enough. Sir, fhe'll doe forty fuch things in an houre (an you liflen to her) for her recreation, if the toy take her i'the greafie kerchiefe: it makes her fat you 20 fee. Shee battens with it. Ivs. Here might I ha'beene deceiu'd, now: and ha' put a fooles blot vpon my felfe, if I had not play'd an after game o'difcretion. [ Vrjla comes in againe dropping. Kno. Alas poore Vrs.^ this's an ill feafon for thee. 25 Vrs. Hang your felfe, Hacney-man. Kno. How ? how ? Vrs, vapours ! motion breede vapours ? Vrs. Vapours ? Neuer tuske, nor twirle your dibble, good lordane.^ I know what you'll take to a very drop. 30 Though you be Captaine o'the Roarers, and fight well at the cafe of pif-pots, you fhall not fright me with your Lyon-chap, Sir, nor your tuskes, you angry ? you are hun- gry: come, a pigs head will flop your mouth, and flay your flomacke, at all times. 13 Dan. Knockhum Jordan : W: Daniel Knockem Jordan : G 21 might I ha'beene] I might have been G 32 tuskes,] Tusks ; j6g2, 1716, JV, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 39 Kno. Thou art fuch another mad merry Vrs flill ! Troth I doe make confcience of vexing thee, now i'the dog- daies, this hot weather, for feare of foundring thee i'the bodie; and melting down a Filler oi the Fayre. Pray thee take thy chayre againe, and keepe flate; and let's haue a 5 frefli bottle of Ale, and a pipe of tabacco; and no vapours, rie ha'this belly o'thine taken vp, and thy graffe fcour'd, wench; looke! heere's Ezechiel Edgworth; a fine boy of his inches, as any is i'the Fayre\ has flill money in his purfe, and will pay all, with a kind heart; and good vapours. 10 Act. II. Scene. IIII. [22] To them Edgvvorth. Nightingale. Corne-c2itter. Tmder-box-man. PaJJengers. THat I will, indeede, willingly, Mailer Ktwckhum^ fetch fome Ale, and Tabacco. Lea. What doe you lacke, Gentlemen? Maid: fee a fine hobby horfe for your young Mailer: cofl you but a token a weeke his prouander. 15 Cor. Ha'you any cornes 'iyour feete, and toes ? Tin. Buy a Moufe-trap, a Moufe-trap, or a Tormentor for a Flea. Tra. Buy fome Ginger-bread. Nig. Ballads, Ballads! fine new ballads: 20 Heare for your lone, and buy for your money. A delicate ballad o'the Ferret and the Coney. A preferuatiue again the Punques euill. Another of Goofe-greene-ftarch, and the Deuill. A dozen of diuine points, and the Godly garters. 25 The Fairing of good councell, of an ell and three quarters. What is' t you buy ? The Wind-mill blowne downe by the witches fart ! Or Saint George, that O ! did breake the Dragons heart ! 4° Bartholmevv Fayre. Edg. Mailer Nightingale, come hither, leaue your mart a little. Nig. O my Secretary! what fayes my Secretarie? Ivs. Childe o'the bottles, what's he ? what he ? 5 Moo. A ciuill young Gentleman, Mafler Arthur^ that keepes company with the Roarers, and disburfes all. Hill. He has euer money in his purfe; He payes for them; and they roare for him: one do's good offices for another. They call him the Secretary, but he ferues no body. A lo great friend of the Ballad-mans they are neuer afunder. Ivs. What pitty 'tis, fo ciuill a young man fhould haunt this debaucht company ? here's the bane of the youth of our time apparant. A proper penman, I fee't in his coun- tenance, he has a good Clerks looke with him, and I war- 15 rant him a quicke hand. Moo. A very quicke hand. Sir. Edg. All the purfes, and purchafe, I giue you to day [23] by conueyance, bring hither to Vrflas prefently. Heere we will meet at night in her lodge, and fhare. Looke you 20 choofe good places, for your flanding i'the Fayre, when you fmg Nightingale. [ This they whi/pe?-, thai Ouerdoo heares it not, Vrs. I, neere the fullefl paffages; and fhift 'hem often. Edg. And i'your fmging, you muft. vfe your hawks eye nimbly, and flye the purfe to a marke, flill, where 'tis 25 worne, and o'which fide; that you may gi'me the figne with your beake, or hang your head that way i'the tune. Vrs. Enough, talke no more on't: your friendfhip (Mailers) is not now to beginne. Drinke your draught of Indenture, your fup of Couenant, and away, the Fayre fils 30 apace, company begins to come in, and I ha'ne'er a Pigge ready, yet. Kno. Well faid! fill the cups, and light the tabacco: let's giue fire i'th'works, and noble vapours. Edg. And fhall we ha'fmockes Vrjla, and good whim- 35 fies, ha ? 4 what he] what's he i6g2, 1716, IV, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 41 Vrs. Come, you are i'your bawdy vaine ! the beft the Fayre will afford, Zckiel, if Bawd Whit keepe his word; how doe the Pigges, Moone-calfe ? Moo. Very paffionate, Miflreffe, on on 'hem has wept out an eye. Mafler Arthur o Bradley is melancholy, heere, 5 nobody talkes to him. Will you any tabacco Mafler Arthur ? Ivs. No, boy, let my meditations alone. Moo. He's fludying for an Oration, now. Ivs. If I can, with this dales trauell, and all my policy, 10 but refcue this youth, here out of the hands of the lewd man, and the flrange woman. I will fit downe at night, and fay with my friend Ouid, Iai7iq ; opus exegi^ quod nee louis ira^ nee ignis, &'c. ' Kno. Here Zekiel : here's a health to Frjla, and a kind 15 vapour, thou haft money i'thy purfe ftill ; and ftore ! how doft thou come by it ? Pray thee vapour thy friends fome in a courteous vapour. Edg. Halfe I haue, Mafter Dan. Knockhum, is alwaies at your feruice, 20 Ivs. Ha, fweete nature! what Gofliawke would prey vpon fuch a Lambe ? . Kno. Let's fee, what 'tis, Zekiel ! count it, come, fill him to pledge mee. Act. II. Scene. V. [24] VViN-wiFE. QvARLOvs. { to them. '\ 7"\ T^Ee are heere before 'hem, me thinkes. 25 OvAR. All the better, we fhall fee 'hem come in now. Lea. What doe you lacke. Gentlemen, what is't you lacke ? a fine Horfe ? a Lyon ? a Bull ? a Beare ? a Dog, 4 on' on 'em i6g2 : one on 'em lyid, W : one of 'em G 10 travail G 13 lamq ; opus\ Jamque opus ibgs, 1716, IV, G 42 Bartholmevv Fayre. or a Cat ? an excellent fine Bartholmew-hird ? or an Inflru- ment ? what is't you lacke ? QvAR. S'lid! heere's Orpheus among the beafls, with his Fiddle, and all! 5 Tra. Will you buy any comfortable bread, Gentlemen ? QvAR. And Ceres felling her daughters picture, in Ginger-worke ! Win. That thefe people fhould be fo ignorant to thinke vs chapmen for 'hem ! doe wee looke as if wee would buy lo Ginger-bread ? or Hobby-horfes ? QvAR. Why, they know no better ware then they haue, nor better cuflomers then come. And our very being here makes vs fit to be demanded, as well as others. Would Cokes would come ! there were a true cuflomer for 15 'hem. Kno. How much is't? thirty fhillings ? who's yonder! JVed Wimvife ? and Tom Quarlous, I thinke ! yes, (gi'me it all) (gi'me it all) Mafler Win-wife\ Mafler Quarlous ! will you take a pipe of tabacco with vs ? do not difcredit me 20 now, Zekiel. Win. Doe not fee him ! he is the roaring horfe-courfer, pray thee let's auoyd him : turne downe this way. QvAR. S'lud, rie fee him, and roare with him, too, and hee roar'd as loud as Neptune, P^^y thee goe with me. 25 Win. You may draw me to as likely an inconuenience, when you pleafe, as this. QvAR. Goe to then, come along, we ha'nothingto doe, man, but to fee fights, now. Kno. Welcome Mailer Quarlous, and Mailer Winwife \ 30 will you take any froth, and fmoake with vs ? QvAR. Yes, Sir, but you'l pardon vs, if we knew not of fo much familiarity betweene vs afore. Kno. As what, Sir ? QvAR. To be fo lightly inuited to fmoake, and froth. 35 Kno. a good vapour! will you fit downe. Sir? this [25] is old Vrjla's manfion, how like you her bower ? heere you may ha'your Punque, and your Pigge in fl.ate. Sir, both piping hot. Bartholmevv Fayre. 43 QvAR. I had rather ha'my Punque, cold, Sir. Ivs. There's for me, Punque! and Pigge! Vrs. What Moonecalfe ? you Rogue. \_She calls within. Moo. By and by, the bottle is almoll off Miflreffe, here Mafter Arthur. 5 Vrs. rie part you, and your play-fellow there, i'the garded coat, an' you funder not the fooner. Kno. Mafter Win wife^ you are proud (me thinkes) you doe not talke, nor drinke, are you proud ? Win. Not of the company I am in, Sir, nor the place, 10 I affure you. Kno. You doe not except at the company ! doe you ? are you in vapours. Sir ? Moo. Nay, good Mafler Dati : Knockhum, refpe6l my Miflris Bower, as you call it; for the honour of our 15 Booth, none o'your vapours heere. \^Ske comes out with a fire-brand. Vrs. Why, you thinne leane Polcat you, and they haue a minde to be i'their vapours, mufl you hinder 'hem ? what did you know Vermine, if they Avould ha'lofL a cloake, or fuch a trifle ? mufl you be drawing the ayre of 20 pacification heere ? while I am tormented, within, i'the fire, you Weafell ? Moo. Good Miflreffe, 'twas in the behalfe of your Booth's credit that I fpoke. Vrs, Why ? would my Booth ha'broake, if they had 25 fal'ne out in't ? Sir? or would their heate ha'fir'd it? in, you Rogue, and wipe the pigges, and mend the fire, that they fall not, or I'le both bafle and roafl. you, till your eyes drop out, like 'hem. (Leaue the bottle behinde you, and be curll a while.) 30 Qvar. Body o'the Fayre\ what's this? mother o'the Bawds ? Kno. No, fhe's mother o'the Pigs, Sir, mother o'the Pigs ! Win. Mother o'the Furies, I thinke, by her firebrand, 35 23 in the behalfe] in behalf G 44 Bartholmevv Fayre. QvAR. Nay, fhee is too fat to be a Fury, fure, fome walking Sow of tallow ! Win. An infpir'd veffell of Kitchin-fluffe ! QvAR. She'll make excellent geere for the Coach- 5 makers, here in Smithfield, to anoynt wheeles and axell trees with. [Ske drinkes this while. Vrs. I, I, Gamefters, mocke a plaine plumpe foft wench o'the Suburbs, doe, becaufe fhe's iuicy and wholefome : you mufl ha'your thinne pinch'd ware, pent vp i'the lo compaffe of a dogge-collar, (or 'twill not do) that lookes like a long lac'd Conger, fet vpright, and a greene feather, like fennell i'the loll on't. Kno. Well faid Vrs, my good Vrs ; to 'hem Vrs. QvAR. Is fhee your quagmire, Dan : Knockhum ? is this 15 your Bogge ? Nig. We fhall haue a quarrel prefently. [26] Kno. How? Bog? Quagmire? foule vapours! hum'h ! QvAR. Yes, hee that would venture for't, I affure him, 20 might fmke into her, and be drown'd a weeke, ere any friend hee had, could find where he were. Win. And then he would be a fort'night weighing vp again e. QvAR. 'Twere like falling into a whole Shire of butter: 25 they had need be a teeme of DutcJwien, fhould draw him out. Kno. Anfwer 'hem, Vrs, where's thy Barthohnew-yj'xX., now ? Vrs, thy Barthobnew-w'\t ? Vrs. Hang 'hem, rotten, roguy Cheaters, I hope to fee 30 'hem plagu'd one day (pox'd they are already, I am fure) with leane playhoufe poultry, that has the boany rumpe, flicking out like the Ace of Spades, or the point of a Partizan, that euery rib of 'hem is like the tooth of a Saw : aud will fo grate 'hem with their hips, & fhoulders, as 35 (take 'hem altogether) they were as good lye with a hurdle. QvAR. Out vpon her, how fhe drips ! fhe's able to giue a man the fweating Sickneffe, with looking on her. Bartholmevv Fayre. 45 Vrs. Mary looke off, with a patch o'your face ; and a dofen i'your breech, though they be o'fcarlet, Sir. I ha' feene as fine outfides, as either o'yours, bring lowfie linings to the Brokers, ere now, twice a weeke. QvAR. Doe you thinke there may be a fine new Cuck- 5 ingfloole i'the Fayre, to be purchas'd ? one large inough, I meane. I know there is a pond of capacity, for her. Vrs. For yonr mother, you Rafcall, out you Rogue, you hedge bird, you Pimpe, you pannier-mans ballard, you. QvAR. Ha, ha, ha. 10 Vrs. Doe you fneerc, you dogs-head, you Trcndlc tayle\ you looke as you were begotten a'top of a Cart in haruefl- time, when the whelp was hot and eager. Go, fnuffe after your brothers bitch, M" Commodity, that's the Liuory you weare, 'twill be out at the elbows, fhortly. It's time you 15 went to't, for the to'ther remnant. Kno. Peace, Vrs, peace, Vrs, they'll kill the poore Whale, and make oyle of her. Pray thee goe in. Vrs. rie fee 'hem pox'd firfl, and pil'd, and double pil'd. 20 Win. Let's away, her language growes greafier then her Pigs, Vrs. Dos't fo, fnotty nofe ? good Lord ! are you fniueling ? you were engendred on a fhe-beggar, in a barne, when the bald Thrafher, your Sire, was fcarce 25 warme. Win. Pray thee, let's goe. QvAR, No, faith : I'le (lay the end of her, now : I know fhee cannot lafl long ; I finde by her fi?niles, fhee wanes a pace. 30 Vrs. Do's fhee f o ? I'le fet you gone. Gi'mee my Pig-pan hither a little. I'le fcald you hence, and you will not goe. Kno. Gentlemen, thefe are very flrange vapours ! and very idle vapours ! I affure you. x< QvAR. You are a very ferious affe, wee affure you. 4 linings] Linnen lyid : linen W 46 Bartholmevv Fayre. [27] Kno. Humh ! Affe? and ferious? nay, then pardon mee m)^ vapour. I haue a foolifh vapour, Gentlemen : any man that doe's vapour me, the Affe, Mafler Quarlous — OvAR. What then, M.'s^^&x lordatil 5 Kno. I doe vapour him the lye. QvAR. Faith, and to any man that vapours mee the lie, I doe vapour that. Kno. Nay, then, vapours vpon vapours. [Vrfla comes in, with the fcalding-pan. They fight, Edg. Nig. 'Ware the pan, the pan, the pan, (hee 10 comes with the pan, Gentlemen. [Shee falls with ?V.] God bleffe the woman. Vrs. Oh. Era. What's the matter ? Ivs. Goodly woman ! 15 Moo. Miflreffe ! Vrs. Curfe of hell, that euer I faw thefe Feinds, oh ! I ha'fcalded my leg, my leg, my leg, my leg. I ha'lofl a limb in the feruice ! run for fome creame and fallad oyle, quickly. Are you vnder-peering, you Baboun ? rip off my 20 hofe, an' you be men, men, men. Moo. Runne you for fome creame, good mother lone. rie looke to your basket. Lea. Befl fit vp i'your chaire, Vrfla. Help, Gentle- men. 25 Kno. Be of good cheere, Vrs^ thou hafl hindred me the currying of a couple of Stallions, here, that abus'd the good vdiCQ-Bawd o'Smithfield ; 'twas time for 'hem to goe. Nig. I faith, when the panne came, they had made you 30 xunne elfe. (this had beene a fine time for purchafe, if you had ventur'd.) Edg. Not a whit, thefe fellowes were too fine to carry money. Kno. Nightingale, get fome helpe to carry her legge 35 out o'the ayre; take off her fliooes; body o'me, fhe has 13 Tra. 17 16, W: Trash. G Bartholmevv Fayre. 47 the Mallanders, the fcratches, the crowne fcabbe, and the quitter bone, i'the tother legge. Vrs. Oh! the poxe, why doe you put me in minde o' niy leg, thus, to make it prick, and fhoot ? would you ha'me i'the Hofpitall, afore my time ? 5 Kno. Patience, Vrs, take a good heart, 'tis but a blifler, as big as a Windgall; I'le take it away with the white of an egge, a little honey, and hogs greafe, ha'thy paflernes well rol'd, and thou fhall't pafe againe by to morrow. I'le tend thy Booth, and looke to thy afifaires, the while: 10 thou Ihalt fit i'thy chaire, and giue diredlions, and fhine Vrfa maior. Act. II. Scene. VI. [28] IVSTICE. EdGEWORTH. NIGHTIN- GALE. Cokes. Waspe. Miftris OvERDOO. Grace. ' I ^Hefe are the fruites of bottle-ale, and tabacco! the fome of the one, and the fumes of the other! Stay young man, and defpife not the wifedome of thefe few 15 hayres, that are growne gray in care of thee. Edg. Nightingale, flay a little. Indeede I'le heare fome o'this! CoK. Come, Numps, come, where are you ? welcome into the Fayre, Miflris Grace. 20 Edg. S'light, hee will call company, you fhall fee, and put vs into doings prefently. Ivs. Third not after that frothy liquor. Ale: for, who knowes, when hee openeth the Ropple, what may be in the bottle ? hath not a Snaile, a Spider, yea, a Neuft bin 25 found there? third not after it, youth: thirfl not after it. CoK. This is a braue fellow, Numps, let's heare him. 48 Bartholmevv Fayre. Was. S 'blood, how braue is he? in a garded coate ? you were bell trucke with him, e'en llrip, and trucke pref- ently, it will become you, why will you heare him, becaufe he is an Affe, and may be a kinnne to the Cokefes ? e CoK. O, good Numps\ Ivs. Neither doe thou lull after that tawney weede, tabacco. CoK. Braue words! Ivs. Whofe complexion is like the Indians that vents it! lo CoK. Are they not braue words, Sifter ? Ivs. And who can tell, if, before the gathering, and making vp thereof, the Alligarta hath not pifs'd thereon ? Was. 'Heart let 'hem be braue words, as braue as they will! and they were all the braue words in a Countrey, 15 how then ? will you away yet ? ha'you inough on him ? Miflris Grace, come you away, I pray you, be not you acceffary. If you doe lofe your Licence, or fome- what elfe, Sir, with liflning to his fables: fay, JVumps, is a witch, with all my heart, doe, fay fo. 20 CoK. Avoyd i'your fattin doublet, Nunips. Ivs. The creeping venome of which fubtill ferpent, as [29] fome late writers affirme; neither the cutting of the per- rillous plant, nor the drying of it, nor the lighting, or burning, can any way perffway or, affwage. 25 CoK. Good, i'faith! is't not Sifter ? Ivs. Hence it is, that the lungs of the Tabacconifl are rotted, the Liuer fpotted, the braine fmoak'd like the back- fide of the Pig-womans Booth, here, and the whole body within, blacke, as her Pan, you faw e'en now, without. 30 CoK. A fine fimilitude, that. Sir! did you fee the panne? Edg. Yes, Sir. Ivs. Nay, the hole in the nofe heere, of fome tabacco- takers, or the third noflrill, (if I may fo call it) which makes, that they can vent the tabacco out, like the Ace of 25 clubs, or rather the Flower-de-lice, is caufed from the tabacco, the meere tabacco! when the poore innocent pox, 4 a kinnne] a-kin i6g2, 1716, W, G 9 Indian's 1716, fV, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 49 hauing nothing to doe there, is miferably, and mofl vncon- fcionably flander'd. CoK. Who would ha'mifl this, Sifter ? Over. Not any body, but Numps. CoK. He do's not vnderftand. 5 Edg. Nor you feele. \Hee picketh his pur/e. CoK. What would you haue, Sifter, of a fellow that knowes nothing but a basket-hilt, and an old Fox in't ? the beft mufique i'the Fayre, will not moue a logge. Edg. In, to V?-JIa, Nightingale, and carry her comfort: 10 fee it told. This fellow was fent to vs by fortune, for our firft fairing. Ivs. But what fpeake I of the difeafes of the body, children of the Fayre ? CoK. That's to vs, Sifter. Braue i'faith! 15 Ivs. Harke, O, you fonnes and daughters of Smithfield ! and heare what mallady it doth the minde: It caufeth fwearing, it caufeth fwaggering, it caufeth fnuffling, and fnarling, and now and then a hurt. OvE. Hehath fomethingof Mafter t)/*!^;'^';?^, meethinkes, 20 brother. CoK. So mee thought, Sifter, very much of my brother Ouerdoo: And 'tis, when he fpeakes. Ivs. Looke into any Angle o'the towne, (the Streights, or the Bermuda's) where the quarrelling leffon is read, and 25 how doe they entertaine the time, but with bottle-ale, and tabacco? The Le6lurer is o'one fide, and his Pupils o'the other; But the feconds are ftill bottle-ale, and tabacco, for which the Le6lurer reads, and the Nouices pay. Thirty pound a weeke in bottle-ale ! forty in tabacco ! and ten 30 more in Ale againe. Then for a fute to drinke in, fo much, and (that being flauer'd) fo much for another fute, and then a third fute, and a fourth fute ! and ftill the bottle-ale flauereth, and the tabacco ftinketh ! Was. Heart of a mad-man ! are you rooted heere ? well 35 you neuer away? what can any man finde out in this bawl- [30] 35 well] Will i6g2, 17 16, W, G o 50 Bartholmevv Fayre. ing fellow, to grow heere for ? hee is a full' handfull higher, fm'he heard him, will you fix heere? and fet vp a Booth? Sir? Ivs. I will conclude briefely — 5 Was. Hold your peace, you roaring Rafcall, I'le runne my head i'your chaps elfe. You were befl build a Booth, and entertaine him, make your Will, and you fay the word, and him your heyre ! heart, I neuer knew one taken with a mouth of a pecke, afore. By this light, I'le c^rry you 10 away o'my backe, and you will not come. \^He gets him vp on pick-packe. CoK. Stay Numpes, Hay, fet mee downe: I ha'lofl my purfe, JVuni-ps, O my purfe ! one o'my fine purfes is gone. Over. Is't indeed, brother? CoK. I, as I am an honefl man, would I were an errant i^ Rogue, elfe! a plague of all roguy, damn'd cut-purfes for me. Was. Bleffe 'hem with all my heart, with all my heart, do you fee! Now, as I am no Infidell, that I know of, I am glad on't. I I am, (here's my witneffe !) doe you fee. Sir ? 20 I did not tell you of his fables, I ? no, no, I am a dull malt- horfe, I, I know nothing. Are you not iuflly feru'd i'your confcience now ? fpeake i'your confcience. Much good doe you with all my heart, and his good heart that has it, with all my heart againe. 2c Edg. This fellow is very charitable, would he had a purfe too! but, I mufl not be too bold, all at a time, CoK. Nay, Numps, it is not my bell purfe. Was. Not your befl! death! why fhould it be your woril ? why fhould it be any, indeed, at all ? anfwer me to 20 that, gi'mee a reafon from you, why it fhould be any ? CoK. Nor my gold, JVutnps; I ha'that yet, looke heere elfe, Sifter. Was. Why fo, there's all the feeling he has! Over. I pray you, haue a better care of that, brother. 25 CoK. Nay, fo I will, I warrant you; let him catch this, that catch can. I would faine fee him get this, looke you heere. Bartholmevv Fayre. 51 Was. So, fo, fo, fo, fo, fo, fo, fo! Ver)- good. CoK. I would ha'him come againe, now, and but offer at it. Sifter, will you take notice of a good left ? I will put it iuft where th'otlier was, and if we ha'good lucke, you fhall fee a delicate fine trap to catch the cutpurfe, 5 nibling. Edg. Faith, and he'll trye ere you be out o'the Fayre. CoK. Come, Miftreffe Grace, pre'thee be not melancholy for my mif-chance; forrow wi'not keepe it, Sweetheart. Gra. I do not thinke on't, Sir. 10 Cook. 'Twas but a little fcuruy white money, hang it: it may hang the cutpurfe, one day. I ha'gold left to gi'thee a fayring, yet, as hard as the world goes: nothing angers me, but that no body heere, look'd like a cutpurfe, vnleffe 'twere Numps. 15 Was. How? I? I looke like a cutpurfe? death! your [13] Sifter's a cutpurfe! and your mother and father, and all your kinne were cutpurfes! And here is a Rogue is the baud o'the cutpurfes, whom I will beat to begin with. [ Tlwy fpeake all together : and Wafpe beats the Inftice. CoK. Ntivips, Numps. 20 Over. Good M"" Humphrey. [Ivs. Hold thy hand, childe of Avrath, and heyre of anger, make it not Childermaffe day in thy fury, or the feaft of the French Bar- t/iolmew. Parent of the of the Maffacre. 25 Was. You are the Patrico ! are you ? the Patriarch of the cutpurfes? you fhare. Sir, they fay, let them fhare this with you. Are you i'your hot fit of preaching againe? rie coole you. Ivs. Murther, murther, murther. ^o 16 [13] error for [31]. 25 Parent of the of the] Parent of the ibqz, 17 16, W, G 52 Bartholmevv Fayre. Act. III. Scene. I. Whit. Haggise. Bristle. Leather- head. Trash. "p^Ay, tifh all gone, now! difh tifh, phen tou vilt not be ■^ phitin call, Mailer Offifher, phat ilh a man te better to lifhen out noyfhes for tee, & tou art in an oder 'orld, being very fhuffifhient noyfhes and gallantfh too, one 5 o'their brabblefh woud haue fed vfli all difh fortnight, but tou art so bvifhy about beggerfli flil, tou hafl no lefhure to intend fhentlemen, and't be. Hag. Why, I told you, Dauy Brijile. Bri. Come, come, you told mee a pudding, Toby Hag- lo gife\ A matter of nothing; I am fure it came to nothing! you faid, let's goe to Vrfla's, indeede; but then you met the [32] man with the monflers, and I could not get you from him. An old foole, not leaue feeing yet? Hag. Why, who would ha'thought any body would ha' 15 quarrell'd fo earely? or that the ale o'the Fayre would ha' beene vp fo foone. Whi. Phy? phat a clocke toefl tou tinke it ifh, man? Hag. I cannot tell. Whi. Tou art a viflie vatchman, i'te meane teeme. 20 Hag. Why? Ihould the watch goe by the clocke, or the clock by the watch, I pray ? Bri. One fhould goe by another, if they did well. Whi. Tou art right now ? phen didfl tou euer know, or heare of a fhuffifhient vatchman, but he did tell the clocke, 25 phat bufliineffe foeuer he had? Bri. Nay, that's mofl true, a fufficient watchman . knowes what aclocke it is. Whi. Shleeping, or vaking! afli well as te clocke him- fhelfe, or te lack dat fhtrikes him ! G makes but one scene of Act III. Bartholmevv Fayre. 53 Bri. Let's enquire of Mailer Leatherhead^ or lone Trajh heere. Mafler Leatherhead, doe you heare, Mafler Leather- head t Whi. If it be a Ledderhead, tifh a very tick Ledder- head, tat fho mufli noifli vill not peirfli him. 5 Lea. I haue a little bufmeffe now, good friends doe not trouble me. Whi. Phat ? becaufe o'ty wrought neet cap, and ty pheluet fherkin, Man ? phy ? I haue fheene tee in ty Led- der fherkin, ere now, Mafhter o'de hobby-Horfes, as bufliy 10 and as flately as tou fheem'fl to be. Tra. Why, what an' you haue, Captaine Whiti hee has his choyce of lerkins, you may fee by that, and his caps too, I affure you, when hee pleafes to be either ficke, or imploy'd. ig Lea. God a mercy lojie^ anfwer for me. Whi, Away, be not Iheen i'my company, here be fhen- tlemen, and men of vorfhip. Act. III. Scene. II. QvARLOvs. Whit. Win-wife. Bvsy. Iohn. PVRE-CRAFT. WiN. KnOK-HVM. MoON- CALFE. VrSLA. "\ 7'T 7'Ee had wonderfuU ill lucke, to miffe this prologue o'the purfe, but the befl is, we fhall haue fiue 20 A^s of him ere night: hee'le be fpe6tacle enough! I'le anfwer for't. Whi. O Creefh! Duke Quarlous, how dofht tou? tou [33] doflit not know me, I f eare ? I am te vifhelht man, but luflifli Ouerdoo, in all Bartholmevv Fayre, now. Gi'me 25 tweluepence from tee, I vill help tee to a vife vorth forty marks for't, and't be. II and as (lately] and stately 17 16, W, G 54 Bartholmevv Fayre. QvAR. Away, Rogue, Pimpe away. Whi, And fliee fhall fhew tee as fine cut o'rke fort't in her fhmock too, as tou canfht vifhe i'faith; vilt tou haue her, vorfliipfull Vln-vife ? I vill helpe tee to her, heere, be 5 an't be, in te pig-quarter, gi'me ty twelpence from tee, WiN-w. Why, there's twelpence, pray thee wilt thou be gone. Whi, Tou art a vorthy man, and a vorfhipfull man ftill. lo QvAR. Get you gone, Rafcall. Whi. I doe meane it, man. Prinfh Quarlous if tou haflit need on me, tou fhalt finde me heere, at Vrjlas, I vill fee phat ale, and pvmque ifh i'te pigfhty, for tee, bleffe ty good vorfhip. IS QvAR. Looke! who comes heere! lohn Little-wit \ WiN-w. And his wife, and my widdow, her mother: the whole family. QvAR. 'Slight, you mufl gi'hem all fairings, now! WiN-w. Not I, rie not fee 'hem, 20 QvAR. They are going a feafling. What Schole-maf- ter's that is with 'hem ? WiN-w. That's my Riuall, I beleeue, the Baker! Bvs. So, walke on in the middle way, fore-right, turne neyther to the right hand, nor to the left : let not your 2if eyes be drawne afide with vanity, nor your eare with noyfes. QvAR. O, I know him by that ftart! Lea. What do you lack? what do you buy, pretty Miflris ! a fine Hobby-Horfe, to make your fonne a Tilter ? ,0 a Drum to make him a Souldier ? a Fiddle, to make him a Reueller ? What is't you lack ? Little Dogs for your Daughters! or Babies, male, or female? Bvs. Look not toward them, harken not: the place is Smithfield^ or the field of Smiths, the Groue of Hobbi- ,1- horfes and trinkets, the wares are the wares of diuels. And the whole Fayre is the fhop of Satan ! They are 5 in te] into 769^, iji6, IF, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 55 hooks, and baites, very baites, that are hung out on euery fide, to catch you, and to hold you as it were, by the gills; and by the noflrills, as the Fifher doth: therfore, you muft not looke, nor turne toward them — The Heathen man could flop his eares with wax, againft the harlot o'the 5 fea: Doe you the like, with your fingers againll the bells of the Beafl. WiN-w. What flafhes comes from him! QvAR. O, he has thofe of his ouen! a notable hot Baker 'twas, when hee ply'd the peele: hee is leading his 10 flocke into the Fayre, now. WiN-w. Rather driuing 'hem to the Pens: for he will let 'hem looke vpon nothing. Kno. Gentlewomen, the weather's hot! whither walke you ? [Little-wit is gazing at the figne ; which is the Pigs-head with a 1 5 large writing vnder it.'] Haue a care o'your fine veluet caps, [34] the Fayre is dufty. Take a fweet delicate Booth, with boughs, here, ithe way, and coole your felues i'the (hade: you and your friends. The befl pig and bottle-ale i'the Fayre, Sir. Old Vrjla is Cooke, there you may read: the 20 pigges head fpeakes it. Poore foule, fliee has had a Sringhalt, the Afaryhinchco: but fhee's prettily amended. Whi. a delicate fhow-pig, little Millris, with fhweet fauce, and crackling, like de bay-leafe i'de fire, la! Tou fhalt ha'de cleane fide o'de table-clot and di glaff vafh'd 25 with phaterfli of Dame AtmesJJi Cleare. loH. This's fine, verily, here be the beft. pigs: and fhee doe's roafl 'hem as well as euer fhe did; the Pigs head fayes. Kno. Excellent, excellent, Miflris, with fire o'Iu?iiper ^o and Rofemary branches! The Oracle of the Pigs head, that. Sir. PvR. Sonne, were you not warn'd of the vanity of the eye ? haue you forgot the wholefome admonition, fo foone ? 25 7 of the] o'the ibqz, 1716, W 8 comes] come iyi6, IV, G 56 Bartholmevv Fayre. loH. Good mother, how fhall we iSnde a pigge, if we doe not looke about for't ? will it run off o'the fpit, into our mouths thinke you? as in Lubberland} and cry, we, we ? 5 Bvs. No, but your mother, religioufly wife, conceiueth it may offer it felfe, by other meanes, to the fenfe, as by way of fleeme, which I thinke it doth, here in this place (Huh, huh) \^\x{y fents after it like a Houndi\ yes, it doth. and it were a finne of obflinacy, great obllinacy, high and horrible 10 obflinacy, to decline, or refifl the good titillation of the famelick fenfe, which is the fmell. Therefore be bold (huh, huh, huh) follow the fent. Enter the Tents of the vncleane, for once, and fatisfie your wiues frailty. Let your fraile wife be fatisfied: your zealous mother, and my 15 'fuffering felfe, will alfo be fatisfied. lOH. Come, Win, as good winny here, as goe farther, and fee nothing. Bvs. Wee fcape fo much of the other vanities, by our earely entring. 20 PvR. It is an aedifying confideration. Win. This is fcuruy, that wee mufl come into the Fayre, and not looke on't. loH. Wi?i, haue patience. Win, I'le tell you more anon. Kno. Moone-calfe, entertaine within there, the befl pig 25 i'the Booth; a Porklike pig. Thefe are B anbury-bloods, o'the fmcere flud, come a pigge-hunting. Whit, wait Whit, looke to your charge. Bvs. A pigge prepare, prefently, let a pigge be pre- pared to vs. 30 Moo. S'light, who be thefe ? Vrs. Is this the good feruice, Jordan, you'ld doe me ? Kno. Why, Vrs ? why, Vrs ? thou'lt ha'vapours i'thy legge againe prefently, pray thee go in, 'tmay turne to the fcratches elfe. [35] Vrs. Hang your vapours, they are flale and llinke like you, are thefe the guefls o'the game, you promis'd to fill my pit withall, to day? Bartholmevv Fayre. 57 Kno. I, what aile they Vrs ? Vrs, Aile they ? they are all fippers, fippers o'the City, they looke as they would not drinke off two penn'orth of bottle-ale amongfl 'hem. Moo. A body may read that i'their fmall printed ruffes. 5 Kno. Away, thou art a foole, Vrs, and thy Aloone-calfe too, i'your ignorant vapours, now ? hence, good guefls, I fay right hypocrites, good glvittons. In, and fet a couple o'pigs o'the board, and halfe a dozen of the biggefl bottles afore 'hem, and call Whit, I doe not loue to heare Inno- 10 cents abus'd: Fine ambling hypocrites! and a flone- puritane, with a forrell head, and beard, good mouth'd gluttons: two to a pigge, away. Vrs. Are you fure they are fuch ? Kno. O'the right breed, thou flialt try 'hem by the teeth, 15 Vrs, Where's this Whit ? Whi, Behold, man and fee, ivhat a worthy man am ee ! With the fury of my fword, and the fJiaking of my beard, I will make ten thoufand men afeard. Kno. Well faid, braue Whit, in, and feare the ale out 20 o'the bottles, into the bellies of the brethren, and the fillers drinke to the caufe, and pure vapours. QvAR. My Roarer is turn'd Tapfter, mee thinks. Now were a fine time for thee, Win-wife, to lay aboard thy wid- dow, thou'lt neuer be Mafler of a better feafon, or place; 25 (hee that will venture her felfe into the Fayre, and a pig- boxe, will admit any affault, be affur'd of that. Win. I loue not enterprifes of that fuddeneffe, though. OvAR. rie warrant thee, then, no wife out o'the wid- dowes Hundred: if I had but as much Title to her, as to 30 haue breath'd once on that flreight flomacher of hers, I would now affure my felfe to carry her, yet, ere fhe went out of Smithfield. Or fhe fhould carry me, which were the fitter fight, I confeffe. But you are a modefl vndertaker, 7 now?] now: 769.?, ijib, W : now! G 21 G suggests that see that be supplied between and and the. 25 be Mafler] be a Master i6g2, 1716 58 Bartholmevv Fayre. by circumflances, and degrees; come, 'tis Difeafe in thee, not ludgement, I fhould offer at all together, Looke, here's the poore foole, againe, that was flung by the wafpe, ere while. [36] Act. III. Scene. III. IvsTicE. Win-wife. Qvarlovs. 5 T will make no more orations, fhall draw on thefe tragi- call conclufions. And I begin now to thinke, that by a fpice of collaterall luflice, Adam Ouerdoo, deferu'd this beating; for I the faid Adam, was one caufe (a by-caufe) why the purfe was lofl: and my wiues brothers purfe too, 10 which they know not of yet. But I fhall make very good mirth with it, at fupper, (that will be the fport) and put my little friend, M"^ Humphrey Wafp's choler quite out of countenance. When, fitting at the vpper end o'my Table, as I vfe, & drinking to my brother Cokes, and M". Alice 15 Ouerdoo, as I wil, my wife, for their good affe6lio to old Bradley, I deliuer to 'hem, it was I, that was cudgell'd, and fhew 'hem the marks. To fee what bad euents may peepe out o'the taile of good purpofes! the care I had of that ciuil ybng man, I tooke fancy to this morning, (and haue 20 not left it yet) drew me to that exhortation, which drew the company, indeede, which drew the cut-purfe; which drew the money; which drew my brother Cokes his loffe; which drew on Wafp's anger; which drew on my beating: a pretty gradation! And they fhall ha'it i'their difh, i'faith, 25 at night for fruit: I loue to be merry at my Table. I had thought once, at one fpeciall blow he ga'me, to haue reuealed my felfe ? but then (I thank thee fortitude) I remembred that a wife man (and who is euer fo great a 27 my {e\le followed by a semicolon i6g2, 1716, W, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 59 part, o'the Commonwealth in himfelfe) for no particular difafler ought to abandon a publike good defigne. The husbandman ought not for one vnthankful yeer, to for- fake the plough; The Shepheard ought not, for one fcabb'd fheep, to throw by his tar-boxe; The Pilot ought 5 not for one leake i'the poope, to quit the Helme; Nor the Alderman ought not for one cufterd more, at a meale, to giue vp his cloake; The Conflable ought not to breake his flaffe, and forfweare the watch, for one roaring night; Nor the Piper o'the Parifh (F/ paruis componcre^ mag)ia 10 folebani) to put vp his pipes, for one rainy Sunday. Thefe are certaine knocking conclufions; out of which, I am refolu'd, come what come can, come beating, come imprifonment, come infamy, come banifhment, nay, come the rack, come the hurdle, (welcome all) I will not dif- 15 couer who I am, till my due time; and yet flill, all fhall be, as I faid euer, in luflice name, and the King's, and for the Common-wealth. Win. What doe's he talke to himfelfe, and a6l fo feri- [37] oufly ? poore foole! 20 QvAR. No matter what. Here's frefher argument, intend that. Act. III. Scene. IIIJ. Cokes. Leatherhead. VVaspe. Miftreffe OVERDOO. WiN-VVIFE. OvARLOVS. Trash. Grace. /^Ome, Miftreffe Grace, come Sifter, heere's more fine ^ fights, yet i'faith. Gods'lid where's Numps ? Lea. What doe you lacke. Gentlemen ? what is't you 25 buy? fine Rattles! Drummes ? Babies? little Dogges ? and Birds for Ladies ? What doe you lacke ? 6o Bartholmevv Fayre. CoK. Good honeil Numpes^ keepe afore, I am fo afraid thou'lt lofe fomewhat: my heart was at my mouth, when I mill thee. Was. You were beil buy a whip i'your hand to driue 5 me. CoK. Nay, doe not miflake, Niimps, thou art fo apt to miflake: I would but watch the goods. Looke you now, the treble fiddle, was e'en almoft like to be lofl. Was. Pray you take heede you lofe not your felfe: lo your befl way, were e'en get vp, and ride for more furety. Buy a tokens worth of great pinnes, to faflen your felfe to my fhoulder. Lea. What doe you lacke. Gentlemen ? fine purfes, pouches, pincafes, pipes ? What is't you lacke ? a paire 15 o'fmithes to wake you i'the morning ? or a fine whiflling bird? CoK. Numps, here be finer things then any we ha'bought by oddes! and more delicate horfes, a great deale! good Numpes, ft^y, ^nd come hither. 20 Was. Will you fcourfe with him ? you are in Srnithfield^ you may fit your felfe with a fine eafy-going flreet-nag, for your faddle again' Michaelmajfe-terme, doe, has he ne'er a little odde cart for you, to make a Carroch on, i'the countrey, with foure pyed hobbyhorfes ? why the meazills, 25 fhould you fland heere, with your traine, cheaping of Dogges, Birds, and Babies ? you ha'no children to bellow 'hem on ? ha'yOu ? CoK. No, but again' I ha'children, Ninnps^ that's allone. Was. Do, do, do, do; how many fhall you haue, think 30 you ? an' I were as you, I'ld buy for all my Tenants, too, they are a kind o'ciuill Sauages, that wil part with their children for rattles, pipes, and kniues. You were befl buy a hatchet, or two, & truck with 'hem. [38] CoK. Good Nirmps, hold that little tongue o'thine, and 35 faue it a labour. I am refolute Bat^ thou know'fl. Was. a refolute foole, you are, I know, and a very fufficient Coxcombe; with all my heart; nay you haue it, Bartholmevv Fayre. 6 1 Sir, and you be angry, turd i'your teeth, twice: (if I faid it not once afore) and much good doe you. Win. Was tliere euer fuch a felfe-affli6lion ? and fo impertinent ? QvAR. Alas! his care will goe neere to cracke him, 5 let's in, and comfort him. Was. Would I had beene fet i'the ground, all but the head on me, and had my braines bowl'd at, or threfh'd out, when firfl I vnderwent this plague of a charge! QvAR. How now, Numps\ almofl tir'd i'your Prote6lor- 10 fhip ? ouerparted ? ouerparted ? Was. Why, I cannot tell, Sir, it may be I am, dos't grieue you ? QvAR. No, I fweare dos't not, Niimps: to fatisfie you. Was. JVuf/ipsl S'blood, you are fine and familiar! 15 how long ha'wee bin acquainted, I pray you ? Qvar. I thinke it may be remembred, Nutnps, that ? 'twas fince morning fure. Was. Why, I hope I know't well enough. Sir, I did not aske to be told. 20 Qvar. No ? why then ? Was. It's no matter why, you fee with your eyes, now, what I faid to you to day ? you'll beleeue me another time ? Qvar. Are you remouing the Fayre, Nicmps ? 25 Was. a pretty queflion! and a very ciuill one! yes faith, I ha'my lading you fee; or fhall haue anon, you may know whofe beaft I am, by my burthen. If the pannier- mans lacke were euer better knowne by his loynes of mutton, rie be flead, and feede dogs for him, when his 30 time comes. Win. How melancholi' Miflreffe Grace is yonder! pray thee let's goe enter our felues in Grace, with her. CoK, Thofe fixe horfes, friend I'le haue — Was. How! 35 30 flead] flayed G 62 Bartholmevv Fayre. CoK. And the three lewes trumps; and halfe a dozen o'Birds, and that Drum, (I haue one Drumme already) and your Smiths; I like that deuice o'your fmiths, very pretty well, and four Halberts — and (le'me fee) that fine 5 painted great Lady, and her three women for ftate, I'le haue. Was. No, the fhop; buy the whole fhop, it will be befl, the fhop, the fhop! Lea. If his worfhip pleafe. lo Was. Yes, and keepe it during the Fayre, Bobchin. ^ CoK. Peace, Nunips, friend, doe not meddle with him, [39] an' you be wife, and would fhew your head aboue board: hee will fling thorow your wrought night-cap, beleeue me, A fet of thefe Violines, I would buy too, for a delicate 15 young noife I haue i'the countrey, that are euery one a fize leffe then another, iufl like your fiddles. I would faine haue a fine young Mafque at my marriage, now I thinke on't: but I doe want fuch a number o'things. And Numps will not helpe me now, and I dare not fpeake to him. 20 Tra. Will your worfhip buy any ginger-bread, very good bread, comfortable bread ? CoK. Ginger-bread! yes, let's fee. \^He runnes to her Jhop. Was. There's the tother fprindge ? Lea. Is this well, goody lone ? to interrupt my market ? 25 in the midfl? and call away my cullomers ? can you anfwer this, at the Piepouldres ? Tra. Why ? if his Mafler-fhip haue a minde to buy, I hope my ware lies as open as another's; I may fliew my ware, as well as you yours, 30 CoK. Hold your peace; I'le content you both: I'le buy vp his fhop, and thy basket. Was. Will you i'faith ? Lea. Why fhould you put him from it, friend ? Was. Cry you mercy! you'ld be fold too, would you ? 35 what's the price on you ? lerkin, and all as you fland ? Iia'you any qualities ? II Numps,] Numps, j6g2, jji6, IV: Numps. — G 27 haue] has 1716, W, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 6;^ Tra. Yes, good-man angry-man, you fhall finde he has qualities, if you cheapen him. Was. Gods fo, you ha'the felling of him! what are they ? will they be bought for loue, or money ? Tra. No indeed. Sir. 5 Was. For what then ? vi6tualls ? Tra. He fcornes vi6luals, Sir, he has bread and butter at home, thanks be to God! and yet he will do more for a good meale, if the toy take him i'the belly, mary then they mufl not fet him at lower end; if they do, he'll goe 10 away, though he fafl. But put him a top o'the Table, where his place is, and hee'll doe you forty fine things. Hee has not been fent for, and fought out for nothing, at your great citty-fuppers, to put downe Coriat, and Cokeley, and bin laught at for his labour; he'll play you all the 15 Puppets i'the towne ouer, and the Players, euery company, and his owne company too; he fpares no body! CoK. I'faith ? Tra. Hee was the firfl. Sir, that euer baited the fellow i'the beare's skin, an't like your worfhip: no dog euer 20 came neer him, fince. And for fine motions! CoK. Is hee good at thofe too ? can hee fet out a Mafque trow ? Tra. O Lord, Mailer! fought to farre, and neere, for his inuentions: and hee engroffes all, hee makes all the [40] Puppets i'the Fayre. CoK. Do'fl thou (in troth) old veluet lerkin ? giue mee thy hand. Tra. Nay, Sir, you fhall fee him in his veluet lerkin, and a fcarfe, too, at night, when you heare him interpret 30 Mailer Little-wifs Motion. CoK. Speake no more, but fhut vp fliop prefently, friend. I'le buy both it, and thee too, to carry downe with me, and her hamper, befide. Thy fhop fhall furnifh out the Mafque, and hers the Banquet: I cannot goe leffe, 3c to fet out any thing with credit. ■ what's the price, at a word, o'thy whole (hop, cafe, and all as it flands ? 10 end] ends idgz, 1716, W, G 64 Bartholmevv Fayre. Lea. Sir, it (lands me in fixe and twenty fhillings feuen pence, halfe-peny, befides three fhillings for my ground. CoK. Well, thirty fhillings will doe all, then! And 5 what comes yours too ? Tra. Foure fhillings, and eleauen pence, Sir, ground, and all, an't like your worfhip. CoK. Yes, it do's like my worfhip very well, poore woman, that's fiue flaillings more, what a Mafque fhall I lo furnifh out, for forty fhillings ? (twenty pound fcotfh) and a Banquet of Ginger-bread ? there's a flately thing! Niimps ? Sifler ? and my wedding gloues too ? (that I neuer thought on afore.) All my wedding gloues, Ginger-bread? O me! what a deuice will there be ? to make 'hem eate their 15 fingers ends! and delicate Brooches for the Bride-men! and all! and then I'le ha'this poefie put to 'hem: For the bejl grace, meaning Miflreffe Grace, my wedding poefie. Gra. I am beholden to you, Sir, and to your Barthol- 7new-'w\t. 20 Was. You doe not meane this, doe you ? is this your firfl purchafe ? CoK. Yes faith, and I doe not thinke, Numpes, but thou'lt fay, it was the wifeft A6t, that euer I did in my wardfhip. 25 Was. Like inough! I fhall fay any thing. I! 10 (hillings ?] shillings, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 65 Act. III. Scene. V. [41] IVSTICE. EdGVVORTH. NIGHTINGALE. T Cannot beget a ProieH^ with all my politicall braine, yet; my Proieft is how to fetch off this proper young man, from his debaucht company: I haue followed him all the Fayre ouer, and flill I finde him with this fongfler: And I begin fhrewdly to fufpe6t their familiarity; and the 5 young man of a terrible taint, Poetry ! with which idle difeafe, if he be infe6led, there's no hope of him, in a flate- courfe. AHum eft, of him for a common-wealths-man : if hce goe to't in Rime, once. Edg. Yonder he is buying o'Ginger-bread: fet in lo quickly, before he part wirh too much on his money. Nig. My majlers and friends, and good people, draw neere, CoK. Ballads ! harke, harke ! pray thee, fellow, flay a little, good Numpes, looke to the goods. \Hcrunn'sto the Bal- 15 ladman.'\ What Ballads hafl thou ? let me fee, let me fee my felfe. Was. Why fo ! hee's tlowne to another lime-bufh, there he will flutter as long more; till hee ha'ne'r a feather left. Is there a vexation like this, Gentlemen ? will you beleeue 20 mee now, hereafter ? fhall I haue credit with you ? QvAR. Yes faith, fhalt thou, Numps, and thou art wor- thy on't, for thou fweatefl for't. I neuer faw a young Pimpe errant, and his Squire better match'd. WiN-w. Faith, the fifler comes after 'hem, well, too. 25 Gra. Nay, if you faw the luflice her hufband, my Guardian, you were fitted for the Meffe, hee is fuch a wife one his way — WiN-w. I wonder, wee fee him not heere. II on] of i6g2, 1716, IV, G 66 Bartholmevv Fayre. * Gra. O ! hee is too ferious for this place, and yet bet- ter fport then then the other three, I affure you. Gentle- men: where ere he is, though't be o'the Bench. CoK. How doll thou call it! A caueat againft cut- 5 purfes! a good iefl, i'faith, I would faine fee that Z)^mon, your Cutpurfe, you talke of, that delicate handed Diuell ; they fay he walkes hereabout; I would feehim walke, now. Looke you fifler, here, here, \^He Jlio%vs his purfeboajiingly.'\ let him come, filler, and welcome. Ballad-man, do's any cut- lo purfes haunt hereabout ? pray thee raife me one or two: beginne and fhew me one. Nig. Sir, this is a fpell againfl 'hem, fpicke and fpan new; and 'tis made as 'twere in mine owne perfon, and I [42] fmg it in mine owne defence. But 'twill cofl a penny 15 alone, if you buy it. CoK. No matter for the price, thou dofl not know me, I fee, I am an odd Bartholmew. OvE. Ha'fl a fine picture. Brother ? CoK. O Sifter, doe you remember the ballads ouer the 20 Nurfery-chimney at home o'my owne pafling vp, there be braue pi6lures. Other manner of pi6lures, than thefe, friend. Was. Yet thefe will ferue to picke the pi6lures out o' your pockets, you Ihall fee. 25 CoK. So, I heai'd 'hem fay. Pray thee mind him not, fellow: hee'U haue an oare in euery thing. Nig. It was intended Sir, as if a purfe fhould chance to be cut in myprefence, now, I may be blameleffe, though: as by the fequell, will more plainly appeare. 30 CoK. We fliall find that i'the matter. Pray thee begin. Nig. To the tune of Paggingtons Pound, Sir, CoK. Fa, la la la, la la la, fa la la la. Nay, I'll put thee in tune, and all ! mine owne country dance! Pray thee begin. 35 Nig. It is a gentle admonition, you mufl know. Sir, both to the purfe-cutter, and the purfe-bearer. CoK. Not a word more, out o'the tune, an' thou lou'fl mee: Fa, la la la, la la la, fa la la la. Come, when ? Bartholmevv Fayre. 67 Nig. My majlers and frietids^ a?id good people dt'aw tieere, And looke to your piirfes^ for that I do fay \ CoK. Ha, ha, this chimes ! good counfell at firfl dafli. Nig. And though little money, in them you doe beare. It cofl more to get, then to lofe in a day. 5 [CoK. Good! Yo2t oft haue beene told, Both the young and the old ; And bidden beware of the cutpurfefo bold : Then if you take heed not, free me from the curfe, 10 Who both giue you avartting, for and, the cutpurfe. [CoK. Well faid! hee were to blame that wold not i'faith. Youth, youth, thou hadft better bin flaru' d by thy Nurfe, Then Hue to be hatiged for cutting a purfe. ' 15 CoK. Good i'faith, how fay you, Nmnps ? Is there any harme i'this ? Nig. // hath bin vpbrayded to men of my trade. That ofte times we are the caufe of this crime. [CoK. The more coxcobes they 20 that did it, I wuffe. Alacke and for pitty, why fJiould it be faid 1 As if they regarded or places, or time. Examples haue been Of fome that were feen, 25 In Weflminfler Hall, yea the pleaders betiveen, Then why fJiould the ludges be free from this curfe. More then my poore felfe, for cutting the purfe ? [CoK. God a mercy for that! why fhould they be more free indeede ? 30 Youth, youth, thou hadfl better bin flaru'd by thy Nurfe, Then Hue to be hanged for cutting a purfe. CoK. That againe, good Ballad-man, that againe. S^Hc [43] fings the burden with Jiim.'X O rare ! I would faine rubbe mine II iox followed by a comma, none after and i6g2, ijid, W, G 13 wold] would i6g2, 1716, W, G 68 Bartholmevv Fayre. elbow now, but I dare not pull out my hand. On, I pray thee, hee that made this ballad, fliall be Poet to my Mafque. Nig. At Worcter 'tis knowne well^ and euen Vthe layle^ A Knight of good wot' JJiip did there JJiew his face, 5 Againfl the foule finners, in zeale for to rayle, And loft (ipfo fa6lo) his purfe in the place. [CoK. Is it poffible ? Nay^ once from the Seat Of ludgement fo great ^ lo A Judge there did lofe a f aire pouch of veluete. [CoK. I'faith ? O Lord for thy mercy, hozv wicked or worfe, Are thofe that fo venture their necks for a purfe ! Youth, youth, d^c. 15 CoK. Youth, youth, dr^cl pray thee flay a little, friend, yet o'thy confcience, Numps, fpeake, is there any harme i'this? Was. To tell you true, 'tis too good for you, leffe you had grace to follow it. 20 Ivs. It doth difcouer enormitie, I'le marke it more : I ha'not lik'd a paltry piece of poetry, fo well a good while. CoK. Youth, youth, ore ! where's this youth, now ? A man mufl call vpon him, for his owne good, and yet hee will not appeare : looke here, here's for him, [ffeejJtewcs his 25 purfe.'] handy-dandy, which hand will he haue ? On, I pray thee, with the rell, I doe heare of him, but I cannot fee him, this Mafler Youth, the cutpurfe. Nig. At Playes and at Sermons, and at the Sefsions, ' Tis daily their practice fuch booty to inake: -o Yea, vnder the Galloives, at Executions, They flicke not the Stare-abouts///;;y>i' to take. Nay one tvithout grace, at a better place, 14 In place of&'c, G inserts : thou hadst better been starv'd by thy nurse, Than live to be hanged for cutting a purse. 15 &^^?] &c. 77/6, IV: Szc.— G 33 At a [far] better place, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 69 At Court, &" in Chrillmas, before the Kings face ^ [CoK. That was a fine fellow! I would haue him, now. Alacke then for pitty mufl I beare the curfe, That onely belongs to the cunning cutpiirfe ? 5 CoK. But where's their cunning, now, when they fhould vfe it ? they are all chain'd now, I warrant you. Youth, youth, thou hadfl better, qj^c. The Rat-catchers charme, are all fooles and Affes to this! A poxe on 'hem, that they will not come! that a man fhould haue fuch a 10 defire to a thing, and want it. QvAR. 'Fore God, I'ld giue halfe the Fayre, and 'twere mine, for a cutpurfe for him, to faue his longing. CoK. Looke you Sifter, [HeeJJiewes his pitr/e againe.'\h.eere., heere, where is't now ? which pocket is't in ? for a wager ? 15 Was. I befeech you leaue your wagers, and let him end his matter, an't may be. CoK. O, are you aedified Numps ? Ivs. Indeed hee do's interrupt him, too much : there Numps fpoke to purpofe. 20 CoK. \againt.'\ Sifter, I am an Affe, I cannot keepe my [44] purfe : on, on ; I pray thee, friend. [Edgworth gets vp to him, and tickles him in the eare with ajlraw twice to drazv his hand out of his pocket. Nig. But O, you vile station of cutpurfes all, Relent a?id repent, and amend and be found. And know that you ought 7wt, by honefl mens fall, 25 Adnauce your owne fortunes, to die aboue ground. And though you goe gay. In filkes as you may, [WiNw. Will you fee fport ? looke, there's a fellow gathers vp to him, marke. 30 [QvA. Good, 'ifaith ! 6 he has lighted on the wrog pocket. 9 Charms ly 16, PF, G 22 G inserts: Night. Youth, youth, thou hadst better been starv'd by thy nurse, Than live to be hanged for cutting a purse. 70 Bartholmevv Fayre. [WiNW. He has it, 'fore God hee is a braue fellow ; pitty hee fhould be dete6led. // is not the high way to heauen, {as they fay) , Repent then ^ repent you., for better^ for worfe: 5 And kiffe not the Galloives for cutting a purfe. Youth., youth., thou hadfl better bin fieriid by thy JVurfe, Then Hue to be hanged for cutting a purfe. All An excellent ballad ! an excellent ballad ! Edg. Friend, let mee ha'the firfl, let mee ha'the firfl, 10 I pray you. CoK. Pardon mee, Sir. Firfl come, firfl feru'd ; and rie buy the whole bundle too. Win. That conueyance was better then all, did you fee't ? he has giuen the purfe to the ballad-fmger. 15 QvAR. Has hee ? Edg. Sir, I cry you mercy ; I'le not hinder the poore mans profit : pray you miflake me not. CoK. Sir, I take you for an honefl Gentleman ; if that be miflaking, I met you to day afore : ha ! humh ! O 20 God ! my purfe is gone, my purfe, my purfe, &c. Was. Come, doe not make a flirre, and cry your felfe an Affe, thorovv the Fayre afore your time. CoK. Why hafl thou it, Numpes ? good Numpes, how came you by it ? I mar'le ! 25 Was. I pray you feeke fome other gamfler, to play the foole with : you may lofe it time enovigh, for all your Fayre-w'it. CoK. By this good hand, gloue and all, I ha'lofl it already, if thou hafl it not : feele elfe, and Miflris ^Grace's 30 handkercher, too, out o'the tother pocket. Was. Why, 'tis well ; very well, exceeding pretty, and well. Edg. Are you fure you ha'lofl it. Sir? CoK. O God ! yes ; as I am an honefl man, I had it 35 but e'en now, at youth, youth. 18 Gentleman ;] gentleman, G 19 O God] O Lord G 20 &c. om.y a third my purse inserted G 34 O God] O Lord G Bartholmevv Fayre. 71 Nig. I hope you fufpe6l not me, Sir. Edg. Thee ? that were a iefl indeede ! Dofl thou thinke the Gentleman is foolifh ? where hadfl. thou hands, I pray thee ? Away Affe, away. Ivs. I fhall be beaten againe, if I be fpi'd. 5 Edg. Sir, I fufpe6l an odde fellow, yonder, is flealing away. OvE. Brother, it is the preaching fellow ! you fliall [45] fufpe6l him. He was at your tother purfe, you know ! Nay, flay. Sir, and view the worke you ha'done, an' you 10 be benefic'd at the Gallowes, and preach there, thanke your owne handy-worke. CoK. Sir, you fhall take no pride in your preferment : you fhall be filenc'd quickly. Ivs. What doe you meane ? fweet buds of gentility. 15 CoK. To ha'my peneworths out on you : Bud. No leffe then two purfes a day, ferue you ? I thought you a fimple fellow, when my man Numpes beate )^ou, i'the morning, and pittied you — OvE. So did I, I'll befworne, brother ; but now I fee 20 hee is a lewd, and pernicious Enormity : (as Mafler Ouer- doo calls him.) Ivs. Mine owne words turn'd vpnon mee, like fwords. CoK. Cannot a man's purfe be at quiet for you, i'the Maflers pocket, but you mufl intice it forth, and debauch 25 it? Was. Sir, Sir, keepe your debauch, and your fine Bartholme7v-teYxnes to your felfe ; and make as much on 'hem as you pleafe. But gi'me this from you, i'the meane time : I befeech you, fee if I can looke to this. 30 [Wafp takes the Licence from him. CoK. Why, Numpsl Was. Why ? becaufe you are an Affe, Sir, there's a reafon the fliortefl way, and you will needs ha'it ; now you ha'got the tricke of lofing, you'ld lofe your breech, an't 'twere loofe. I know you, Sir, come, deliuer, you'll 35 goe and cracke the vermine, you breed now, will you ? 'tis 72 Bartholmevv Fayre. very fine, will you ha'the truth on't ? they are fnch retch- leffe flies as you are, that blow cutpurfes abroad in euery corner ; your foolifh hauing of money, makes 'hem. An' there were no wifer then I, Sir, the trade fhould lye open 5 for you, Sir, it fliould i'faith. Sir. I would teach your wit to come to your head. Sir, as well as your land to come into your hand, I affure you, Sir. Win. Alacke, good Numps. Was. Nay, Gentlemen, neuer pitty mee, I am not lo worth it : Lord fend me at home once, to Harrow o'the Hill againe, if I trauell any more, call me Coriat ; with all my heart. QvAR. Stay, Sir, I mufl haue a word with you in priuate. Doe you heare ? 15 Edg. With me, Sir? what's your pleafure ? good Sir. QvAR. Doe not deny it. You are a cutpurfe. Sir, this Gentleman here, and I, faw you, nor doe we meane to dete6t you (though we can fufficiently informe our felues, toward the danger of concealing you) but you mufl doe vs 20 a piece of feruice. Edg. Good Gentlemen, doe not vndoe me ; I am a ciuill young man, and but a beginner, indeed. QvAR. Sir, your beginning Ihall bring on your ending, [46] for vs. We are no Catchpoles nor Conflables. That you 25 are to vndertake, is this ; you faw the old fellow, with the blacke boxe, here ? Edg. The little old Gouernour, Sir ? QvAR. That fame : I fee, you haue flowne him to a marke already. I would ha'you get away that boxe from 30 him, and bring it vs. Edg. Would you ha'the boxe and all, Sir ? or onely that, that is in't ? I'le get you that, and leaue him the boxe, to play with flill : (which will be the harder o'the two) becaufe I would gaine your worfhips good opinion 35 of me. WiN-w. He fayes well, 'tis the greater Maflry, and 'twill make the more fport when 'tis mifl. Bartholmevv Fayre. 73 Edg. I, and 'twill be the longer a miffing, to draw on the fport. QvAR. But looke you doe it now, firrah, and keepe your word : or — Edg. Sir, if euer I breake my word, with a Gentleman, 5 may I neuer read word at my need. Where fliall I find you ? QvAR. Some-where i'the Fayre, heereabouts. Difpatch it quickly. I would faine fee the carefull foole deluded! of all Beafls, I loue the ferious Affe. He that takes paines 10 to be one, and playes the foole, with the greatefl diligence that can be. Gra. Then you would not chofe. Sir, but loue my Guardian, luilice Ouerdoo, who is anfwerable to that de- fcription, in euery haire of him. 15 QvAR. So I haue heard. But how came you, Miflris Welborne, to be his Ward ? or haue relation to him, at firfl. ? Gra. Faith, through a common calamity, he bought me, Sir ; and now he will marry me to his wiues brother, this wife Gentleman, that you fee, or elfe I mufl pay value 20 o'my land QvAR. S'lid, is there no deuice of difparagement ? or fo ? talke with fome crafty fellow, fome picklocke o'the Law ! Would I had fludied a yeere longer i'the Innes of Court, and't had beene but i'your cafe. 25 WiN-w. I Mafler Quarlous, are you proffering ? Gra. You'ld bring but little ayde, Sir. WiN-w. (I'le looke to you 'ifaith, Gamfler. ) An vn- fortunate foolifli Tribe you are falne into. Lady, I wonder you can endure 'hem. 30 Gra. Sir, they that cannot worke their fetters off ; mufl weare 'hem. WiNw. You fee what care they haue on you, to leaue you thus. Gra. Faith the fame they haue of themfelues. Sir. I 35 cannot greatly complaine, if this were all the plea I had againfl 'hem. 74 Bartholmevv Fayre. Win. 'Tis true! but will you pleafe to withdraw with vs, a little, and make them thinke, they haue loft you. I hope our manners ha'beene fuch hitherto, and our lan- [47] g"^&6, as will giue you no caufe, to doubt your felfe, in 5 our company. Gra. Sir, I will giue my felfe, no caufe ; I am fo fecure of mine owne manners, as I fufpe6l not yours. QvAR. Looke where lohn Little-ivit comes. WiN-w. Away, I'le not be feene, by him. 10 QvAR. No, you were not befl, hee'ld tell his mother, the widdow. Win w. Heatt, what doe you meane ? QvAR. Cry you mercy, is the winde there? mull not the widdow be nam'd ? Act. Ill Scene. VI. loHN. Win. Trash. Leatherhead. Knockhvm. Bvsy. Pvrecraft. 15 T^Oe you heare Win, WinJ ^-"^ Win. What fay you, lohti? loH. While they are paying the reckoning, JVin, I'll tell you a thing Win, wee fliall neuer fee any fights i'the Fayre, Win, except you long flill. Win, good Win, fweet 20 Win, long to fee fome Hobby-horfes, and fome Drummes, and Rattles, and Dogs, and fine deuices, Win. The Bull with the fine legs. Win ; and the great Hog : now you ha'begun with Pigge, you may long for any thing, Win, and fo for my Motion, Win. 25 Win. But we fha'not eat o'the Bull, and the Hogge John, how fhall I long then ? 12 Heatt] Heart 769^, 1716, W, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 75 loH, O yes! JVin : you may long to fee, as well as to tafle, JVtn : how did the Pothecarie's wife, IVi/i, that long'd to fee the Anatomy, JVt'n ? or the Lady, IVi'n, that defir'd to fpit i'the great Lawyers mouth, after an eloquent pleading ? I affure you they long'd. Win, good Win, goe 5 in, and long. Tra. I think we are rid of our new cuflomer, brother Leatherhead, wee fhall heare no more of him. [ They plot to be gone. Lea. All the better, let's packe vp all, and be gone, before he finde vs. 10 Tra. Stay a little, yonder comes a company : it may be wee may take fome more money. Kno, Sir, I will take your counfell, and cut my haire, and leaue vapours : I fee, that Tabacco, and Bottle-Ale, and Pig, and Whit, and very Vrfla, her felfe, is all vanity. 15 Bvs. Onely Pigge was not comprehended in my ad- monition, the reft were. For long haire, it is an Enfigne [48] of pride, a banner, and the world is full of thofe banners, very full of Banners. And, bottle-ale is a drinke of Sathan's, a diet-drinke of Sathans, deuifed to puffe vs vp, 20 and make vs fwell in this latter age of vanity, as the fmoake of tabacco, to keepe vs in mifl and error: But the fleflily woman, (which you call Vrfla) is aboue all to be auoyded, hauing the marks vpon her, of the three enemies of Man, the World, as being in the Faire ; the 25 Deuill, as being in the fire; and and the Flefh, as being her felfe. PvR. 'Q\:ot\\erZeale-of-the-land\ what fliall we doe ? my daughter Win-the-fight, is falne into her fit of longing againe. 30 Bvs. For more pig ? there is no more, is there ? PvR. To fee fome fights i'the Faire. Bvs. Sifter, let her fly the impurity of the place, fwiftly, left fhee partake of the pitch thereof. Thou art the feate of the Beaft, O Sniithfield, and I will leaue thee. Idolatry 35 peepeth out on euery fide of thee. 76 Bartholmevv Fayre. Kno. An excellent right Hypocrite ! now his belly is full, he falls a railing and kicking, the lade. A very good vapour! I'll in, and ioy VrJIa, with telling, how her pigge works, two and a halfe he eate to his fhare. And he has 5 drunke a pailefuU. He eates with his eyes, as well as his teeth. Lea. What doe you lack. Gentlemen ? What is't you buy? Rattles, Drumms, Babies. — Bvs. Peace, with thy Apocryphall wares, thou pro- lo phane Publican: thy Bells, thy Dragons, and thy Tobies Dogges. Thy Hobby-horfe is an IdoU, a very Idoll, a feirce and rancke Idoll : And thou, the Nabiichadnezzar, the proud Nahuchad?iezzar of the Faire, that fet'fl it vp, for children to fall downe to, and worfliip. 15 Lea. Cry you mercy, Sir, will you buy a fiddle to fill vp your noife. loH. Looke Win. doe, looke a Gods name, and faue your longing. Here be fine fights. PvR. I child, fo you hate 'hem, as oiir Brother Zeale 20 do's, you may looke on 'hem. Lea. Or what do you fay, to a Drumme, Sir ? Bvs. It is the broken belly of the Bead, and thy Bel- lowes there are his lungs, and thefe Pipes are his throate, thofe Feathers are of his taile, and thy Rattles, the gnafh- 25 ing of his teeth. Tra. And what's my ginger-bread ? I pray you. Bvs. The prouander that pricks him vp. Hence with thy bafket of Popery, thy nell of Images : and whole legend of ginger-worke. ^o Lea. Sir if you be not quiet, the quicklier, I'll ha'you clapp'd fairely by the heeles, for diflurbing the Faire. Bvs. The finne of the Faire prouokes me, I cannot bee filent. PvR. Good brother Zeale ! [40] Lea. Sir, I'll make you filent, beleeue it. loH. Il'd giue a ftiilling, you could i'faith, friend. Bartholmevv Fayre. 77 Lea. Sir, giue me your (hilling, I'll giue you myfhop, if I do not, and I'll leaue it in pawne with you, i'the meane time. lOH. A match i'faith, but do it quickly, then. Bvs, [He /peakes to the widdow.'] Hinder me not, woman. 5 I was mou'd in fpirit, to bee here, this day, in this Faire, this wicked, and foule Faire \ and fitter may it be a called a foule, then a Faire : To protefl again ft the abufes of it, the foule abufes of it, in regard of the affli6ted Saints, that are troubled, very much troubled, exceedingly 10 troubled, with the opening of the merchandize of Babylon againe, & the peeping of Popery vpon the ftals, here, here, in the high places. See you not Goldylocks, the pur- ple ftrumpet, there ? in her yellow gowne, and greene fleeues? the prophane pipes, the tinckling timbrells ? A 15 shop of reliques ! loH. Pray you forbeare, I am put in truft with 'hem. Bvs. And this Idolatrous Groue of Images, this flasket of Idols! which I will pull downe — [Ouerthrows the ginger- bread. ' (Tra. O my ware, my Avare, God bleffe it.) 20 Bvs. In my zeale, and glory to be thus exercis'd. [Leatherhead enters with officers. Lea. Here he is, pray yovi lay hold on his zeale, wee cannot fell a whiftlc, for him, in tune. Stop his noyfe, firft! 25 Bvs. Thou canft not: 'tis a san6lified noife. I will make a loud and moft ftrong noife, till I haue daunted the prophane enemy. And for this caufe. — Lea. Sir, heer's no man afraid of you, or your caufe. You fliall fweare it, i'the ftocks. Sir. 30 Bvs. I will thruft my felfe into the ftocks, vpon the pikes of the Land. Lea. Carry him away. PvR. What doe you meane, wicked men ? Bvs. Let them alone; I feare them not. 35 7 be called a 769.?, 77/6, W, G 78 Bartholmevv Fayre. loH. Was not this fhilling well ventur'd, JVt'n ? for our liberty ? Now we may goe play, and fee ouer the Fayre, where we lift our felues; my mother is gone after him, and let her ee'n go, and loofe vs. r Win. Yes lohn, but I know not what to doe. lOH. For what, Win ? Win. For a thing, I am afliam'd to tell you, i'faith, and 'tis too farre to go home. loH. I pray thee bee not afham'd, Win. Come, i'faith lo thou fhall not be afham'd, is it any thing about the Hobby- horfe-man ? an't be, fpeake freely. Win, Hang him, bafe Bobchin, I fcorne him; no, I haue very great, what fha'call'um, lohn. loH. 6! Is that all, ?F/;/ ? wee'll goe backe to Cap- 15 taine Jordan; to the pig-womans, Win. hee'll helpe vs, or [50] fhe with a dripping pan, or an old kettle, or fomething. The poore greafie foule loues you. Win, and after we'll vifit the Fayre all ouer. Win, and, fee my Puppet play, Win, you know it's a fine matter. Win. 20 Lea. Let's away, I counfell'd you to packe vp afore, lone. Tra. a poxe of his Bedlem purity. Hee has fpoyl'd halfe my ware: but the bell is, wee lofe nothing, if we miffe our firfl Merchant. 25 Lea. It fhall be hard for him to finde, or know vs, when we are tranflated, lone. 4 loofe] lose i6g2, 1716, W, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 79 Act. nil. Scene. I. Trovble-all. Bristle. Haggise. Cokes ivstice. pocher. bvsy. pvrecraft. MY Mafters, I doe make no doubt, but you are officers. Bri. What then, Sir ? Tro. And the Kings louing, and obedient fubie6ls. 5 Bri. Obedient, friend ? take heede what you fpeake, I aduife you: Oluier Brijlle aduifes you. His louing fub- ie(5ls, we grant you : but not his obedient, at this time, by your leaue, wee know ourfelues, a little better then fo, wee are to command, S^ and fuch as you are to be obe- 10 dient. Here's one of his obedient fubie6ls, going to the flocks, and wee'll make you fuch another, if you talke. Tro. You are all wife enough i'your places, I know. Bri. If you know it, Sir, why doe you bring it in queftion ? 15 Tro. I queftion nothing, pardon me. I do only hope you haue warrant, for Avhat you doe, and fo, quit you, and fo, multiply you. [He goes away againe. Hag. What's hee ? bring him vp to the flocks there. Why bring you him not vp ? 20 Tro. \co»ies again. 1 If you haue luflice 6>«<'/-^6'(?'.y Warrant, [5^] 'tis well: you are fafe; that is the warrant of warrants. rie not giue this button, for any mans warrant elfe. Bri. Like enough, Sir, but let me tell you, an' you play away your buttons, thus, you will want 'hem ere night, for 25 any flore I fee about you: you might keepe 'hem, and faue pinnes, I wuffe. [goes away. Ivs. What fhould hee be, that doth fo efleeme, and aduance my warrant ? he feemes a fober and difcreet per- 8o Bartholmevv Fayre. fon! it is a comfort to a good confcience, to be follow'd with a good fame, in his fufferings. The world will haue a pretty tafl by this, how I can beare aduerfity: and it will beget a kind of reuerence, toward me, hereafter, euen 5 from mine enemies, when they fhall fee I carry my calam- ity nobly, and that it doth neither breake mee, nor bend mee. Hag. Come, Sir, heere's a place for you to preach in. Will you put in your legge ? \_They put him in thejlocks. lo Ivs. That I will, cheerefuUy. Bri. O'my confcience a Seminary ! hee kiffes the flockes. CoK. Well my Maflers, I'le leaue him with you; now I fee him beflow'd, I'le goe looke for my goods, and 15 JVumps. Hag. You may. Sir, I warrant you; where's the tother Bawler ? fetch him too, you fhall find 'hem both fafl enough. Ivs. In the mid'fl of this tumult, I will yet be the Author 20 of mine owne refl, and not minding their fury, fit in the flockes, in that calme, as fhall be able to trouble a Triicmph, Tro. {comes agai7i,'\ Doe yovi affure me vpon your words ? may I vndertake for you, if I be ask'd the queflion; that you haue this warrant ? 25 Hag. What's this fellow, for Gods fake ? Tro. Doe but fhew me Adam Ouerdoo. and I am fatisfied. \_goes out. Bri. Hee is a fellow that is diflra6led, they fay; one Trouble-all: hee was an officer in the Court oi Pie-pouldres, here lafl yeere, and put out on his place by luflice Ouerdoo. 30 Ivs. Ha! Bri. Vpon which, he tooke an idle conceipt, and's runne mad vpon't. So that euer fmce, hee will doe nothing, but by luflice Ouerdoo's warrant, he will not eate a crufl, nor drinke a little, nor make him in his apparell, 35 ready. His wife, Sirreuerence, cannot get him make his water, or fliift his fhirt, without his warrant. Bartholmevv Fayre. 8i Ivs. If this be true, this is my greatefl difafler! how am I bound to fatisfie this poore man, that is of fo good a nature to mee, out of his wits! where there is no roome left for diffembling. Tro. [comes in.] If you cannot fhew me Adam Ouerdoo, $ I am in doubt of you : I am afraid you cannot anfwere it. [goes againe. Hag. Before me. Neighbour Brijile (and now I thinke on't better) luflice Ouerdoo., is a very parantory perfon. Bri. O! are you aduis'd of that ? and a feuere luflicer, by your leaue. lo Ivs. Doe I heare ill o'that fide, too ? [52] Bri. He will fit as vpright o'the bench, an' you marke him, as a candle i'the focket, and giue light to the whole Court in euery bufinefle. Hag. But he will burne blew, and fwell like a bile 15 (God bleffe vs) an' he be angry. Bri. I, and hee will be angry too, when his lift, that's more: and when hee is angry, be it right or wrong; hee has the Law on's fide, euer. I marke that too. Ivs. I will be more tender hereafter. I fee compaffion 20 may become ^lujlice, though it be a weakneffe, I confeffe; and neerer a vice, then a vertue. Hag. Well, take him out o'the ftocks againe, wee'll goe a fure way to worke, wee'll ha'the Ace of hearts of our fide, if we can. [They take the lujlice oiit. 25 Poc. Come, bring him away to his fellow, there. Mafter Bufy, we fliall rule your legges, I hope, though wee cannot rule your tongue. Bvs. No, Minifter of darkneffe, no, thou canft not rule my tongue, my tongue it is mine own, and with it I will 30 both knocke, and mocke do wne your -5a/'///^/;//^'Zc-abhomi na- tions, till you be made a hiffing to the neighbour Parifhes, round about. Hag. Let him alone, we haue deuis'd better vpon't. PvR. And fhall he not into the ftocks then ? 35 15 bile] Boil 1716, W, G 17 his lift] he's list W : he lists G 82 Bartholmevv Fayre. Bri. No, Miflreffe, wee'U haue 'hem both to Iicjlice Ouerdoo^ and let him doe ouer 'hem as is fitting. Then I, and my goffip Haggis, and my beadle Pocher are difcharg'd. PvR. O, I thanke you, bleffed, honefl men! 5 Bri. Nay, neuer thank vs, but thank this mad-man that comes heere, hee put it in our heads. PvR. Is hee mad ? Now heauen increafe his madneffe, and bleffe it, and thanke it. Sir, your poore hand-maide thanks you. \Comes againe. lo Tro. Haue you a warrant ? an' you haue a warrant, fhew it. PvR. Yes, I haue a warrant out of the word, to giue thankes for remouing any fcorne intended to the brethren. Tro. It is luflice Ouerdoo's warrant, that I looke for, if 15 you haue not that, keepe your word, I'le keepe mine. Quit yee, and multiply yee. [53] Act. nil. Scene. II. Edgvvorth. Trovble-all. Nightingale. Cokes. Costardmonger. /^Ome away Nightingale, I pray thee. Tro. Whither goe you ? where's your warrant ? Edg. Warrant, for what. Sir ? 20 Tro. For what you goe about, you know how fit it is, an' you haue no warrant, bleffe you, I'le pray for you, that's all I can doe. \^Goes out. Edg. What meanes hee ? Nig. a mad-man that haunts the Fayre, doe you not 25 know him ? it's maruell hee has not more followers, after his ragged heeles. Scenes I and II constitute in G Scene /. Bartholmevv Fayre. 83 Edg. Befhrew him, he flartled me: I thought he had knowne of our plot. Guilt's a terrible thing! ha'you prepar'd the Coilardmonger ? Nig. Yes, and agreed for his basket of peares; hee is at the corner here, ready. And your Prife, he comes 5 downe, failing, that way, all alone ; without his Pro- testor: hee is rid of him, it feemes. Edg. I, I know; I fhould ha'follow'd his Prote(5lor- Ihip for a feat I am to doe vpon him : But this offer'd it felfe, fo i'the way, I could not let it fcape: heere he 10 comes, whiflle, be this fport call'd Dorring the Dottrell. Nig. Wh, wh, wh, wh, &C. [Nightingale whijlles CoK. By this light, I cannot finde my ginger-bread- Wife, nor my Hobby-horfe-man in all the Fayre, now; to ha'my money againe. And I do not know the way out 15 on't, to go home for more, doe you heare, friend, you that whiflle ; what tune is that, you whiflle ? Nig. a new tune, I am pra6lifmg, Sir. CoK. Doll thou know where I dwell, I pray thee ? nay, on with thy tune, I ha'no fuch hafl, for an anfwer: I'le 20 pra6life with thee. Cos. Buy any peares, very fine peares, peares fine. [Nightingale fets his foote afore him, and he falls with his basket. CoK. Gods fo! a muffe, a muffe, a muffe, a muffe. Cos. Good Gentleman, my ware, my ware, I am a poore man. Good Sir, my ware. 25 Nig. Let me hold your fword. Sir, it troubles you. [c^] CoK. Doe, and my cloake, an' thou wilt; and my hat, too. [Cokes falls afcrambling whilefl they rttnne away with his things. Edg. a delicate great boy! me thinks, he out-fcram- bles 'hem all. I cannot perfwade my felfe, but he goes to 30 grammer-fchole yet; and playes the trewant, to day. Nig. Would he had another purfe to cut, Zekiel. Edg. Purfe? a man might cut out liis kidneys, I thinke; and he neuer feele 'hem, he is fo earnefl. at the fport. 35 Nig. His foule is halfe way out on's body, at the game. 84 Bartholmevv Fayre. Edg. Away, Nightingale: that way. CoK. I thinke I am furnifh'd for Catherne peares, for one vnder-meale: gi'me my cloake. Cos. Good Gentleman, giue me my ware. 5 CoK. Where's the fellow I ga'my cloake to ? my cloake? and my hat? ha! Gods'lid, is he gone? thieues, thieues, helpe me to cry, Gentlemen. {^He runs out. Edg. Away, Collermonger, come to vs to VrJIa's. Talke of him to haue a foule? 'heart, if hee haue any lo more then a thing giuen him in flead of fait, onely to keepe him from {linking, I'le be hang'd afore my time, prefently, where fhould it be trow? in his blood? hee has not fo much to'ard it in his whole body, as will maintaine a good Flea ; And if hee take this courfe, he will not 15 ha'fo much land left, as to reare a Calfe within this twelue month. Was there euer greene Plouer fo pull'd! That his little Ouerfeer had beene heere now, and beene but tall enough, to fee him fleale peares, in exchange, for his beauer-hat, and his cloake thus? I mufl goe finde him 20 out, next, for his blacke boxe, and his Patent (it feemes) hee has of his place ; which I thinke the Gentleman would haue a reuerfion of ; that fpoke to me for it fo earneflly. CoK. \^He comes againe.] Would I might lofe my doublet, 25 and hofe, too ; as I am an honefl man, and neuer flirre, if I thinke there be any thing, but thieuing, and cooz'ning, i'this whole Fayre. Bartholniew-fayre, quoth he ; an' euer any Bartholmew had that lucke in't, that I haue had, I'le be martyr'd for him, and in Smithfield, too. I ha'paid for 30 my peares, a rot on 'hem, I'le keepe 'hem no longer ; \throws away his peares. '\ you were choake-peares to mee ; I had bin better ha'gone to mum chance for you, I wuffe. Me thinks the Fayre fhould not haue vs'd me thus, and 'twere but for my names fake, I would not ha'vs'd a dog'o 35 the name, fo. O, Numps will triumph, now ! Friend, doe you know who I am? or where I lye? I doe not my 12 prefently,] presently : i6g2, 1716, W, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 85 felfe, I'll befworne. Doe but carry me home, and I'le pleafe thee, I ha'money enough there, I ha'lofl my felfe, and my cloake and my hat ; and my fine fword, and my filler, and Numps, and Millris Grace^ (a Gentlewoman that I Ihould ha'marryed) and a cut-Avorke handkercher, fhee 5 ga'mee, and two purfes to day. And my bargaine o' Hobby-horfes and Ginger-bread, which grieues me worll of all. [Trouble-all comes agaiti. Tro. By whofe warrant. Sir, haue you done all this ? CoK. Warrant? thou art a wife fellow, indeed, as if a [55] man need a warrant to lofe any thing, with. Tro. Yes, luflice Ouei'dd's warrant, a man may get, and lofe with, rie fland to't. CoK. luftice Ouerdoot Dofl thou know him? I lye there, hee is my brother in Law, hee marryed my fifler : 15 pray thee fhew me the way, dofl thou know the houfe ? Tro. Sir, fhew mee your warrant, I know nothing without a warrant, pardon me, CoK. Why, I warrant thee, come along : thou flialt fee, I haue wrought pillowes there, and cambricke fheetes, 20 and fweete bags, too. Pray thee guide me to the houfe. Tro. Sir, He tell you ; goe you thither your felfe, firfl, alone ; tell your worfhipfull brother your minde: and but bring me three lines of his hand, or his Clerkes, with Adam Oiicrdoo, vnderneath ; here I'le flay you, He 25 obey you, and I'le guide you prefently. CoK. S'lid, this is an Affe, I ha'found him, poxe vpon mee, what doe I talking to fuch a dull foole ; farewell, you are a very Coxcomb, doe you heare? Tro. I thinke, I am, if luflice Ouerdoo figne to it, I 30 am, and fo wee are all, hee'll quit vs all, multiply vs all. 86 Bartholmevv Fayre. Act. Ilil. Scene. IIJ. Grace. Qvarlovs. Win-wife. Trovble-all. Edgvvorth. [T/iey enter with their /words drawne. /^^ Entlemen, this is no way that you take: you do but ^"'^ breed one another trouble, and offence, and giue me no contentment at all. I am no fhe, that affe6ls to be quarrell'd for, or haue my name or fortune made the 5 queflion of mens fwords. QvA. S'lood, wee loue you. Gra. If you both loue mee, as you pretend, your owne reafon will tell you, but one can enioy me, and to that point, there leads a dire6ler line, then by my infamy, which lo mufl follow, if you fight. 'Tis true, I haue profefl it to you ingenuoufly, that rather then to be yoak'd with this Bridegroome is appointed me, I would take vp any hus- band, almofl vpon any trufl. Though Subtilty would fay to me, (I know) hee is a foole, and has an eflate, and I 15 might gouerne him, and enioy a friend, befide. But thefe are not my aymes, I mufl haue a husband I mufl loue, or I cannot Hue with him. I fhall ill make one of thefe politique wiues! [56] WiN-w. Why, if you can like either of vs, Lady, fay, 20 which is he, and the other fhall fweare inflantly to defifl. QvA. Content, I accord to that willingly. Gra. Sure you thinke mea^voman of an extreme leuity. Gentlemen, or a flrange fancy, that (meeting you by chance in fuch a place, as this, both at one inllant, and not yet of 25 two hours acquaintance, neither of you deferuing afore the other, of me) I fhould fo forfake my modefly (though I Here begins Scefie II in G. Bartholmevv Fayre. 87 I might afifedl one more particularly) as to fay, This is he, and name him. QvA. Why, wherefore fhould you not ? What fliould hinder you ? Gra. If you would not giue it to my modefly, allow 5 it yet to my wit; giue me fo much of woman, and cun- ning, as not to betray my felfe impertinently. How can I iudge of you, fo farre as to a choyfe, without knowing you more ? you are both equall, and alike to mee, yet: and fo indifferently affected by mee, as each of you might 10 be the man, if the other were away. For you are reafon- able creatures, you haue vnderflanding, and difcourfe. And if fate fend me an vnderflanding husband, I haue no feare at all, but mine owne manners fhall make him a good one. QvAR. Would I were put forth to making for you, then. 15 Gra. It may be you are, you know not what's toward you: will you confent to a motion of mine, Gentlemen ? WiNW. What euer it be, we'll prefume reafonableneffe, comming from you. OvAR. And fitneffe, too. 20 Gra. I faw one of you buy a paire of tables, e'en now. WiN-w. Yes, heere they be, and maiden ones too, vn- written in. Gra. The fitter for what they may be imployed in. You fhall write either of you, heere, a word, or a name, 25 what you like befl; but of two, or three fyllables at mofl: and the next perfon that comes this way (becaufe Dejliny has a high hand in bufmeffe of this nature) I'le demand, which of the two words, he, or flie doth approue; and according to that fentence, fixe my refolution, and 30 affe6lion, without change. Qvar. Agreed, my word is conceiued already. WiN-w. And mine fhall not be long creating after. Gra. But you fhall promife. Gentlemen, not to be curious to know, which of you it is, taken; but giue me 35 leaue to conceale that till you haue brought me, either home, or where I may fafely tender my felfe. 88 Bartholmevv Fayre. WiN-w Why that's but equall. QvAR. Wee are pleas'd. Gra. Becaufe I will bind both your indeauours to work together, friendly, and ioyntly, each to the others fortune, 5 and haue my felfe fitted with fome meanes, to make him that is forfaken, a part of amends. [57] QvAR. Thefe conditions are very curteous. Well my word is out of the Arcadia^ then: Argahis. WiN-w, And mine out of the play, Palemon. [Trouble-all comes again, 10 Tro. Haue you any warrant for this, Gentlemen ? QvAR. WiN-w. Ha! Tro. There mull be a warrant had, beleeue it. WiN-w. For what ? Tro. For whatfoeuer it is, any thing indeede, no mat- 15 ter what. QvA. S'light, here's a fine ragged Prophet, dropt downe 'i the nicke! Tro. Heauen quit you, Gentlemen. QvA. Nay, flay a little, good Lady, put him to the 20 quellion. Gra. You are content, then ? WiN-w. QvAR. Yes yes. Gra. Sir, heere are two names written — Tro. Is ludice Ouerdoo, one ? 25 Gra. How, Sir? I pray you read 'hem to your felfe, it is for a wager betweene thefe Gentlemen, and with a flroake or any difference, marke which you approue bed. Tro. They may be both worfhipfull names for ought I know, Miflreffe, but Adam Ouerdoo had beene worth three 30 of 'hem, I affure you, in this place, that's in plaine englifh. Gra. This man amazes mee! I pray you, like one of 'hem, Sir. Tro. I doe like him there, that has the befl warrant, Miflreffe, to faue your longing, and (multiply him) It may 19 little,] little: i6g2, jjib, W, G 24 ludice] Justice i6g2, 17 16, W, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 89 be this. But I am I flill for lujlice Ouerdoo^ that's my con- fcience. And quit you. WiN-w. Is't done, Lady ? Gra. I, and ftrangely, as euer I faw! What fellow is this trow ? 5 Ova. No matter what, a Fortune-teller w'ee ha'made him. Which is't, which is't. Gra. Nay, did you not promife, not to enquire ? QvA. S'lid, I forgot that, pray you pardon mee. Looke, here's our J/.?;r/^/7 come: The Licence arriues i'the finefl 10 time, too! 'tis but fcraping out Cokes his name, and 'tis done. WiN-w. How now lime-twig? haft, thou touch'd. Edg. Not yet. Sir, except you would goe with mee, and fee't, it's not worth fpeaking on. The a6l is nothing, 15 without a witneffe. Yonder he is, your man with the boxe falne into the fineft. company, and fo tranfported with vapours, that they ha'got in a Northren Clothier, and one Puppy., a Weft.erne man, that's come to wn-aft.le before my Lord Maior, anone, and Captaine IVhit, and one Val Cut- 20 ting, that helpes Captaine Jordan to roare, a circling boy : with whom your Nunips, is fo taken, that you may flrip him of his cloathes, if you will. I'le vndertake to geld him for you; if you had but a Surgeon, ready, to feare him. And Mift.reffe luftice, there, is the goodefl woman! fhee [5°] do's fo loue 'hem all ouer, in termes of luflice, and the Stile of authority, with her hood vpright — that I befeech you come away Gentlemen, and fee't. QvAR. S'light, I would not lofe it iox\h.Q, Fayre, what'U you doe, Ned'^. 3° WiN-w. Why, ft.ay heere about for you, Miflreffe Wel- borne mull not be feene. QvA. Doe fo, and find out a Priell i'the meane time, I'le bring the Licenfe. Lead, which way is't ? Edg. Here, Sir, you are o'the backefide o'the Booth 35 already, you may heare the noife. I am I flill] am still idgs, 1716, IV, G 35 backefide] back W, G 9° Bartholmevv Fayre. Act. IIIJ. Scene. IV. Knockhvm. Nordern. Pvppy. Cvt- TiNG. Whit. Edgvvorth. Ovarlovs. OvERDOO. Waspe. Bristle. TXT'iT'//, bid Vail Cutting continue the vapours for a lift, ^ ^ Whit, for a lift. Nor. rie ne mare, I'le ne mare, the eale's too meeghty. Kno. How now! my Galloway Nag, the flaggers ? ha! 5 Whit, gi'him a flit i'the fore-head. Cheare vp, man, a needle, and threed to flitch his eares. I'ld cure him now an' I had it, with a little butter, and garlike, long-pepper, and graines. Where's my home ? I'le gi'him a mafh, prefently, fhall take away this dizzineffe. lo Pvp. Why, where are you zurs ? doe you vlinch, and leaue vs i'the zuds, now ? Nor. I'le ne mare, I'is e'en as vull as a Paipers bag, by my troth, I. Pvp. Doe my Northerne cloth zhrinke i'the wetting ? ha ? 15 Kno. Why, well faid, old Flea-bitten, thou'lt neuer tyre, I fee. \^T hey fall to their vapours, againe. CvT. No, Sir, but he may tire, if it pleafe him. Whi. Who told dee fho ? that he vuld neuer teer, man ? CvT. No matter who told him fo, fo long as he knowes. 20 Kno. Nay, I know nothing. Sir, pardon me there. Edg. They are at it fl.il. Sir, this they call vapours. Whi. He fliall not pardon dee, Captaine, dou fhalt not be pardon'd. Pre'de fhweete heart doe not pardon him. CvT. S'light, I'le pardon him, an' I lifl, whofoeuer 25 faies nay to't. [59] \_Here they continue their game of vz.'pouxs, which /j nonfenfe. Euery 7nan to oppofe the lafl man that fpoke : whethe it concern d him, or no. Scenes IV, V, and part of VI, constitute in G Scene III. Bartholmevv Fayre. 91 QvAR. Where's Numps ? I miffe him. Was. Why, I fay nay to't. QvAR. O there he is! Kno. To what doe you fay nay, Sir ? Was. To any thing, whatfoeuer it is, fo long as I do 5 not like it. Whi. Pardon me, little man, dou mufht like it a little. CvT. No, hee mufl not like it at all, Sir, there you are i'the wrong. Whi. I tinke I be, he mufht not like it, indeede. 10 CvT. Nay, then he both mufl, and will like it. Sir, for all you. Kno. If he haue reafon, he may like it, Sir. Whi. By no meanfli Captaine, vpon reafon, he may like nothing vpon reafon. 15 Was. T haue no reafon, nor I will heare of no reafon, nor I will looke for no reafon, and he is an Affe, that either knowes any, or lookes for't from me. CvT. Yes, in fome fenfe you may haue reafon. Sir. Was. I, in fome fenfe, I care not if I grant you. 20 Whi. Pardon mee, thou ougflit to grant him nothing, in no fhenfh, if dou doe loue dy fhelfe, angry man. Was. Why then, I doe grant him nothing; and I haue no fenfe. CvT. 'Tis true, thou hafl no fenfe indeed. 25 Was. S'lid, but I haue fenfe, now I thinke on't better, and I will grant him any thing, doe you fee ? Kno. He is i'the right, and do's vtter a fufficient vapour. CvT. Nay, it is no fufficient vapour, neither, I deny that. Kno. Then it is a fweet vapour. 30 CvT. It may be a fweet vapour. Was. Nay, it is no fweet vapour, neither, Sir, it flinkes, and rie Hand to't. Whi. Yes, I tinke it dofli fhtinke, Captaine. All vapour dofh fhtinke. . 35 Was. Nay, then it do's not flinke, Sir, and it fliall not flinke. 92 Bartholmevv Fayre. CvT. By your leaue, it may, Sir. Was. I, by my leaue, it may flinke, I know that. Whi. Pardon me, thou knowefht nothing, it cannot by thy leaue, angry man. 5 Was. How can it not ? Kno. Nay, neuer queflion him, for he is i'the right. Whi. Yefh, I am i'de right, I confelh it, so ifh de little man too. Was. rie haue nothing confefl, that concernes mee. I lo am not i'the right, nor neuer was i'the right, nor neuer will be i'the right, while I am in my right minde, CvT. Minde ? why, heere's no man mindes you, Sir, nor any thing elfe. [T/n'y drinke againe. [60] Pvp. Vreind, will you mind this that wee doe ? 15 QvA. Call you this vapours ? this is fuch beltching of quarrell, as I neuer heard. Will you minde your bufmeffe, Sir? Edg. You fhall fee, Sir. Nor. rie ne maire, my waimb warkes too mickle with 20 this auready. Edg. Will you take that, Mafler IVafpe, that no body (hould minde you ? Was. Why ? what ha'you to doe ? is't any matter to you ? Edg. No, but me thinks you fhould not be vnminded, 25 though, Was. Nor, I wu'not be, now I thinke on't, doe you heare, new acquaintance, do's no man mind me, fay you ? CvT. Yes, Sir, euery man heere mindes you, but how ? Was, Nay, I care as little how, as you doe, that was 20 not my queflion. Whi. No, noting was ty queflion, tou art a learned man, and I am a valiant man, i'faith la, tou fhalt fpeake for mee, and I vill fight for tee. Kno. Fight for him, Whit ? A groffe vapour, hee can 32 fight for himfelfe. Was. It may be I can, but it may be, I wu'not, how then ? Bartholmevv Fayre. 93 CvT. Why, then you may chufe. Was. Why, and I'le chufe whether I'le chufe or no. Kno. I thinke you may, and 'tis true; and I allow it for a refolute vapour. Was. Nay, then, I doe thinke you doe not thinke, and 5 it is no refolute vapour. CvT. Yes, in fome fort he may allow you. Kno. In no fort, Sir, pardon me, I can allow him nothing. You miflake the vapour. Was. He miflakes nothing. Sir, in no fort. 10 Whi. Yes, I pre dee now, let him miflake. Was. a turd i'your teeth, neuer pre dee mee, for I will haue nothing miflaken. Kno. Turd, ha turd? a noyfome vapour, flrike IV/iit. [ They fall by the eares. OvE. Why, Gentlemen, why Gentlemen, I charge you 15 vpon my authority, conferue the peace. In the Kings name, and my Husbands, put vp your weapons, I Ihall be driuen to commit you my felfe, elfe. QvA. Ha, ha, ha. Was. Why doe you laugh. Sir ? 20 QvA. Sir, you'll allow mee my chriflian liberty. I may laugh, I hope. CvT. In fome fort you may, and in fome fort you may not, Sir. Kno. Nay in fome fort. Sir, hee may neither laugh, 25 nor hope, in this company. Was. Yes, then he may both laugh, and hope in any [61] fort, an't pleafe him. QvA. Faith, and I will then, for it doth pleafe mee exceedingly. 30 Was. No exceeding neither. Sir. Kno.- No, that vapour is too lofty. QvA. Gentlemen, I doe not play well at your game of vapours, I am not very good at it, but — 2 and I'le chufe whether I'le chufe] then I'll choose whether I choose G 94 Bartholmevv Fayre. CvT. Doe you heare, Sir ? I would fpeake with you in circle ? \^Hee drawes a circle on the ground. QvA. In circle, Sir ? what would you with me in circle ? CvT. Can you lend me a Piece, a lacobusl in circle ? 5 QvA. S'lid, your circle will proue more coflly then your vapours, then. Sir, no, I lend you none. CvT. Your beard's not well turn'd vp. Sir. QvA. How Rafcall ? are you playing with my beard ? rie breake circle with you. {They draw all, and fight. lo Pvp. Nor. Gentlemen, Gentlemen! Kno. Gather vp, Whit., gather vp, Whit., good vapours. OvE. What meane you ? are you Rebells ? Gentle- men ? fliall I fend out a Serieant at Armes, or a Writ o'Rebellion, againfl you ? I'le commit you vpon my 15 woman-hood, for a Riot, vpon my luflice-hood, if you perfifl. Was. Vpon yovir luflice-hood ? Mary fhite o'your hood, you'll commit ? Spoke like a true luflice of peace's wife, indeed, and a fine female Lawyer! turd i'your teeth 20 for a fee, now. Over. Why, Numps, in Mailer Ouerdoo's name, I charge you. Was. Good Miflreffe Vnderdoo hold your tongne. Over. Alas! ^oox^ Numps. 25 Was. Alas! and why alas from you, I befeech you ? or why poore Ntrmps, goody Rich ? am I come to be pittied by your tuft taffata now ? why Miflreffe, I knew Adam, the Gierke, your husband, when he was Adam Scriuener, and writ for two pence a fheet, as high as he beares his 30 head now, or you your hood, Dame. [The watch comes in.'] What are you, Sir ? Bri. Wee be men, and no Infidells; what is the matter, here, and the noyfes ? can you tell ? Was. Heart, what ha'you to doe ? cannot a man 35 quarrell in quietneffe ? but hee mufl be put out on't by you ? what are you ? Bri. Why, wee be his Maieflies Watch, Sir. Bartholmevv Fayre. 95 Was. Watch ? S 'blood, you are a fweet watch, indeede. A body would thinke, and you watch'd well a nights, you fhould be contented to lleepe at this time a day. Get you to your fleas, and your flocke-beds, you Rogues, your kennells, and lye downe clofe. 5 Bri. Downe ? yes, we will downe, I warrant you, downe with him in his Maieflies name, downe, downe with him, and carry him away, to the pigeon-holes. OvE. I thanke you honefl friends, in the behalfe o'the (■52] Crowne, and the peace, and in Mailer Ouerdoo's name, for 10 fuppreffing enormities. Whi. Stay, Brijlle, heere ifh a noderbrafh o'drunkards, but very quiet, fpeciall drunkards, will pay dee, fiue fhil- lings very well. Take 'hem to dee, in de graifli o'God: one of hem do's change cloth, for Ale in the Fayre, here, 15 te toder ifh a flrong man, a mighty man, my Lord Mayors man, and a wraftler. Hee has wrafhled fo long with the bottle, heere, that the man with the beard, hafli almofht flreeke vp hifh heelfh. Bri. S'lid, the Gierke o'the Market, has beene to cry 20 him all the Fayre ouer, here, for my Lords feruice. Whi. Tere he ifh, pre de talk him henfh, and make ty beft on him. How now woman o'fliilke, vat ailfh ty fhweet faifh ? art tou melancholy ? OvE. A little dillemper'd with thefe enormities; fhall 35 I intreat a curtefie of you, Captaine ? Whi. Intreat a hundred, veluet voman, I vill doe it, fhpeake out. OvE. I cannot with modelly fpeake it out, but — Whi. I vill doe it, and more, and more, for dee. What 30 Vrfla, and't be bitch, and't be baud and't be! Vrs. How now Rafcall? what roare you for? old Pimpe. Whi. Heere, put vp de cloakes VrJJi\ de purchafe, pre dee now, fhweet VrJJi, help dis good braue voman, to a 35 Jordan, and't be. • 34 purchafe] purchase ; 77/6, W: purchase. G 96 Bartholmevv Fayre. Vrs. S'lid call your Captaine Jordan to her, can you not ? Whi. Nay, pre dee leaue dy confheits, and bring the veluet woman to de — 5 Vrs. I bring her, hang her: heart mufl I find a com- mon pot for euery punque i'your purlews ? Whi. O good voordfh, VrJJi^ it ifh a guell o'veluet, i'fait la. Vrs. Let her fell her hood, and buy a fpunge, with a 10 poxe to her, my veffell, employed Sir. I haue but one, and 'tis the bottome of an old bottle. An honell Pro6lor, and his wife, are at it, within, if fliee'll flay her time, fo. Whi. As foone afh tou canfht fhwet VrJJi. Of a valiant man I tinke I am the patientfh man i'the world, or in all 1 5 Smithfield. Kno. How now Whit ? clofe vapours, flealing your leaps ? couering in corners, ha ? Whi. No fait, Captaine, dough tou beefht a vifhe man, dy vit is a mile hence, now. I vas procuring a flimall 20 courtefie, for a woman of falhion here. OvE. Yes, Captaine, though I am luflice of peace's wife, I doe loue Men of warre, and the Sonnes of the fword, when they come before my husband. Kno. Say'fl thou fo Filly ? thou (halt haue a leape 25 prefently, I'le horfe thee my felfe, elfe. [63] Vrs. Come, will you bring her in now ? and let her talke her turne ? Whi. Gramercy good VrJJi^ I tanke dee. Over. Mafler Ouerdoo fhall thanke her. 10 my Vessel is employed i6g2, 1716, W, G 21 I am luftice] I am a justice G 27 talke] take 1716, W, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 97 Act. nil. Scene. V. loHN. Win. Vrsla. Knockhvm. Whit. Overdoo. Ales.^ /'^ ood Ga'mere Vrs; Win, and I, are exceedingly beholden to you, and to Captaine Jordan, and Captaine Whit. Win, rie be bold to leaue you, i'this good company. Win: for halfe an houre, or fo Win, while I goe, and fee how my matter goes forward, and if the Puppets be perfe6l: 5 and then I'le come & fetch you, Win. Win. Will you leaue me alone with two men, John ? loH. I, they are honeft Gentlmen Win, Captaine Jor- dan, and Captaine Whit, they'll vfe you very ciuilly, JVin, God b'w'you, Win. lo Vrs. What's her husband gone ? Kno. On his falfe, gallop, Vrs, away. Vrs. An' you be right Bartholtnew-hirds, now fhew your felues fo : we are vndone for want of fowle i'the Fayre, here. Here will be Zekiell Edgworth, and three or foure 15 gallants, with him at night, and I ha'neither Plouer nor Quaile for 'hem : perfwade this betweene you two, to become a Bird o'the game, while I worke the veluet woman, Avithin, (as you call her.) Kno. I conceiue thee, Vrs\ goe thy waies, doefl thou 20 heare, Whit? is't not pitty, my delicate darke chellnut here, with the fine leane head, large fore-head, round eyes, euen mouth, fharpe eares, long necke, thinne crefl, clofe withers, plaine backe, deepe fides, fliort fillets, and full flankes : with a round belly, a plumpe buttocke, large thighes, knit 25 knees, llreight legges, fhort pafi.ernes, fmooth hoofes, and 'Ales] Alice i6g2, 17 16, W 12 Comma after falfe om. i6g2, 1716, W, G 98 Bartholmevv Fayre. fhort heeles; fhould lead a dull honefl womans life, that might liue the life of a Lady ? Whi. Yes, by my fait, and trot, it is, Captaine : de honefht womans life is a fcuruy dull life, indeed, la. 5 Win. How, Sir ? is an honefl womans life a fcuruy life? Whi. Yes fait, fhweet heart, beleeue him, de leefe of a Bond-woman! but if dou vilt harken to me, I vill make tee a free-woman, and a Lady: dou flialt liue like a Lady, 10 as te Captaine faifh. Kno. I, and be honefl too fometimes: haue her wiers, [64] and her tires, her greene gownes, and veluet petticoates. Whi. I, and ride to Ware and Rttmford i'dy Coafli, fhee de Players, be in loue vit 'hem; fup vit gallantfh, be 15 drunke, and cofl de noting. Kno. Braue vapours! Whi. And lye by twenty on 'hem, if dou pleafh fhweet heart. Win. What, and be honefl flill, that were fine fport. 20 Whi. Tifh common, fhweet heart, tou may'fl doe it by my hand: it fhall be iuflified to ty husbands faifh, now: tou fhalt be as honefht as the skinne betweene his hornfh, la ! Kno. Yes, and weare a dreffmg, top, and top-gallant, to compare with ere a husband on 'hem all, for a fore-top : 25 it is the vapour of fpirit in the wife, to cuckold, now adaies; as it is the vapour of fafhion, in the husband, not to fufpe6l. Your prying cat-eyed-citizen, is an abomina- ble vapour. Win. Lord, what a f oole haue I beene ! 30 Whi. Mend then, and doe euery ting like a Lady, heereafter, neuer know ty husband, from another man. Kno. Nor any one man from another, but i'the darke. Whi. I, and then it ifh no difhgrafh to know any man. Vrs. Helpe, helpe here. 35 Kno. How now ? what vapour's there ? Vrs. O, you are a fweet Ranger\ and looke well to your walks. Yonder is your Pimque of Turnbull, Ramping Bartholmevv Fayre. 99 Ales, has falne vpon the poore Gentlewoman within, and pull'd her hood ouer her eares, and her hayre through it. [Alice end's, beating he lujlice s wife. OvE. Helpe, helpe, i'the Kings name. Ale. a mifchiefe on you, they are fuch as you are, that vndoe vs, and take our trade from vs, with your tuft-taffata 5 hanches. Kno. How now Alice\ Ale. The poore common whores can ha'no traffique, for the priuy rich ones ; your caps and hoods of veluet, call away our cuflomers, and lick the fat from vs. 10 Vrs. Peace you foule ramping lade, you — Ale. Od's foote, you Bawd in greace, are you talking ? Kno. Why, Alice, I fay. Ale. Thou Sow of Smithficld, thou. Vrs. Thou tripe of Turnebull. 15 Kno. Cat-a-mountaine- vapours! ha! Vrs. You know where you were taw'd lately, both lafli'd, and flafh'd you were in Bridewell. Ale. I, by the fame token, you rid that weeke, and broake out the bottome o'the Cart, Night-tub. 20 Kno. Why, Lyon face! ha! doe you know who I am ? Ihall I teare ruffe, flit waflcoat, make ragges of petticoat ? ha! goe to, vanifla, for feare of vapours. Whit, a kick, Whit, in the parting vapour. Come braue woman, take a good heart, thou flialt be a Lady, too. 25 Whl Yes fait, dey flial all both be Ladies, and write [65] Madame. I vill do't my felfe for dem. Doe, is the vord, and D is the middle letter of Madame, DD, put 'hem together, and make deeds, without which, all words are alike, la. 30 Kno. 'Tis true, Vrjla, take 'hem in, open thy wardrope, and fit 'hem to their calling. Greene-gownes, Crimfon- petticoats, green women! my Lord Maiors green women! gviefls o'the Game, true bred. I'le prouide you a Coach, to take the ayre, in. 35 I Alice i6g2, 1716, W, G ^Of(S loo Bartholmevv Fayre. Win. But doe you thinke you can get one ? Kno. O, they are as common as wheelebarrowes, where there are great dunghills. Euery Pettifoggers wife, has 'hem, for first he buyes a Coach, that he may marry, and then hee marries that hee may be made Cuckold in't: For if their wiues ride not to their Cuckolding, they doe 'hem no credit. Hide, and be hidden; ride, and be ridden, fayes the vapour of experience. Act. IIIJ. Scene. VI. Troble-all. Knockhvm. Whit. QvARLovs. Edgvvorth. Bristle. Waspe. Haggise. Ivstice. BvsY. Pvre-craft. "D Y what warrant do's it fay fo ? lo Kno. Ha! mad child o'the Pye-pouldres^ art thou there ? fill vs a frefh kan, Vrf^ wee may drinke together. Tro. I may not drinke without a warrant, Captaine. Kno. S'lood, thou'll not flale without a warrant, fhortly. Whit^ Giue mee pen, inke and paper. Fl draw him a war- 15 rant prefently. Tro. It mufl be lujlice Ouerdoo's ? Kno. I know, man, Fetch the drinke, Whit. VVhi. I pre dee now, be very briefe, Captaine; f or de new Ladies flay for dee. 20 Kno. O, as briefe as can be, here 'tis already. Adam Oiicrdoo. Tro. Why, now, Fie pledge you, Captaine. Kno. Drinke it off. Fll come to thee, anone, againe. 2 are as common] are common W, G 16 Ouerdoo's followed by a period lyjb, W, G Bartholmevv Fayre. ioi QvA. [Ouarlous to the Cutpnr/e.] Well, Sir. You are now difcharg'd: beware of being fpi'd, hereafter. Edg. Sir, will it pleafe you, enter in here, at Vr/las; and take part of a filken gowne, a veluet petticoate, or a [66] wrought fmocke; I am promifd fuch: and I can fpare any 5 Gentleman a moity. QvA. Keepe it for your companions in beafllineffe, I am none of 'hem, Sir. If I had not already forgiuen you a greater trefpaffe, or thought you yet worth my beating, I would inflru(5l your manners, to whom you made your lo offers. But goe your wayes, talke not to me, the hang- man is onely fit to difcourfe with you ; the hand of Beadle is too mercifull a punifhment for your Trade of life. I am forry I employ 'd this fellow; for he thinks me fuch: Fa- cinus quos inquinat^ cequat. Bnt, it was for fport. And 15 would I make it ferious, the getting of this Licence is nothing to me, without other circumflances concurre. I do thinke how impertinently I labour, if the word bee not mine, that the ragged fellow mark'd: And what aduan- tage I haue giuen Ned Win-wife in this time now, of work- 20 ing her, though it be mine. Hee'll go neare to forme to her what a debauch'd Rafcall I am, and fright her out of all good conceipt of me: I fliould doe fo by him, I am fure, if I had the opportunity. But my hope is in her temper, yet; and it muft. needs bee next to defpaire, that is 25 grounded on any part of a woman's difcretion. I would giue by my troth, now, all I could fpare (to my cloathes, and my fword) to meete my \.?LX.\.ev' d footh-fayer againe, who was my iudge i'rhe queflion, to know certainly whofe word he has damn'd or fau'd. For, till then, I Hue but vnder a 30 Repreiue. I mufl feeke him. Who be thefe ? \^Ent. Waspe with the officers. Was. Sir, you areawelfh Cuckold, and a prating Runt, and no Conflable. Bri. You fay very well. Come put in his legge in the middle roundell, and let him hole there. 35 I Scene IV begins here, and includes the remainder of Act IV in C. 5 any Gentleman] a gentleman G I02 Bartholmevv Fayre. Was. You ilinke of leeks, Metheglyn, and cheefe. You Rogue. Bri. Why, what is that to you, if you fit fweetly in the flocks in the meane time ? if you haue a minde to flinke 5 too, your breeches fit clofe enough to your bumni. Sit you merry. Sir. QvA How now, Numps ? Was. It is no matter, how; pray you looke off. QvA. Nay I'll not offend you, Numps. I thought you lo had fate there to be feen. Was. And to be fold, did you not ? pray you mind your bufineffe, an' you haue any. QvA. Cry you mercy, Numps. Do's your leg lie high enough ? 15 Bri. How now, neighbour Haggife, what fayes lujlice Ouerdos worfliip, to the other offenders ? Hag. Why, hee fayes iufl nothing, what fhould hee fay ? Or where fliould he fay ? He is not to be found, Man. He ha'not been feen i'the Fayre, here, all this liue- 20 long day, neuer fince feuen a clocke i'the morning. His Clearks know not what to thinke on't. There is no Court of Piepoulders yet. Heere they be return'd. Bri. What fhall be done with 'hem, then ? in your dif- cretion ? [67] Hag. I thinke wee Avere befl put 'hem in the flocks, in difcretion (there they will be fafe in difcretion) for the valour of an houre, or fuch a thing, till his worfliip come. Bri It is but a hole matter, if wee doe, Neighbour 30 Haggife, come. Sir, heere is company for you, heaue vp the flocks. \^As they open the Jlockes, '^z.i-^Gputs his JJiooe on his hand, andjlips it in for his legge. Was. I fhall put a tricke vpon your welfli diligence, perhaps. Bri. Put in your legge, Sir. 30 Haggi/e followed by a semicolon jy 16, W, G . . . yon followed by a semicolon 1716, W, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 103 QvA. What, Rabby Bufy ! is hee come ? \^They bring Bufy, and put him in. Bvs. I doe obey thee, the Lyon may roare, but he can- not bite. I am glad to be thus feparated from the heathen of the land, and put apart in the flocks, for the holy caufe. Was. What are you. Sir ? 5 Bvs, One that reioyceth in his affliction, and fitteth here to prophefie, the deflru6lion of Fay res 2lX\^ May-games, Wakes, and Whitfon-ales, and doth figh and groane for the reformation, of thefe abufes. Was. And doe you figh, and groane too, or reioyce in 10 your affli<5lion ? Ivs. I doe not feele it, I doe not thinke of it, it is a thing without mee. Adam, thou art aboue thefe battries, thefe contumelies. /// te mama ruit fortuna, as thy friend Horace i^^Qs; thou art one, Quem iieque pauperies,neque mors, 15 neqiie vincula terrent,. And therefore as another friend of thine faies, (I thinke it be thy friend Perfius) Non te quceftue- ris extra. Ova. What's heere? a Stoick i'the flocks ? the Foole is turn'd Philofopher. 20 Bvs. Friend, I will leaue to communicate my fpirit with you, if Hieare any more of thofe fuperflitious reliques, thofe lifts of Latin, the very rags of Rome, and patches of Popcrie. Was. Nay, an' you begin to quarrel, Gentlemen, I'll 25 leaue you. I ha'paid for quarrelling too lately : lookeyou, adeuice, but fliifting in ahandfor afoot. {^He gets out.'\ God b'w'you. Bvs. Wilt thou then leaue thy brethren in tribulation? Was. For this once. Sir. 30 Bvs. Thou art a halting Neutrall ftay him there, ftop him: that will not endure the heat of perfecution. Bri. How now, what's the matter? Bvs. Hee is fled, he is fled, and dares not fit it out. Bri. What, has he made an efcape, which way ? follow, 35 neighbour Haggife. I04 Bartholmevv Fayre. PvR. O me! in the flocks ! haue the wicked preuail'd ? Bvs. Peace religious filler, it is my calling, comfort your felfe, an extraordinary calling, and done for my bet- ter Handing, my furer flanding, hereafter. [ The mad-man enters. 5 Tro. By whofe warrant, by whofe warrant, this ? QvA. O, here's my man! dropt in, I look'd for. [68] Ivs. Ha! PvR. O good Sir, they haue fet the faithfull, here to be wonder'd at; and prouided holes, for the holy of the land. lo Tro. Had they warrant for it ? fhew'd they lujlicce Oieerdoo's hand ? if they had no warrant, they fhall anfwer it. Bri. Sure you did not locke the flocks fufficiently, neighbour Toby ! Hag. No! fee if you can lock 'hem better. ig Bri. They are very fufficiently lock'd, and truely, yet fome thing is in the mater. Tro. True, your warrant is the matter that is in quellion, by what warrant ? Bri. Mad man, hold your peace, I will put you in his 20 roome elfe, in the very fame hole, doe you fee ? Ova. How! is hee a mad-man! Tro. Shew me Iiijlice Ouerdoos warrant. I obey you. Hag. You are a mad foole, hold your tongue. Tro. In lujlice Ouerdoo's name, [Shewes Ms Kanne.'] I drinke 25 to you, and here's my warrant. Ivs. Alas poore wretch ! how it earnes my heart for him ! Qva. If hee be mad, it is in vaine to queflion him. I'le try though, friend : there was a Gentlewoman, fhew'd you two names, fome houre fince, Argalus and Fale?non, to 30 marke in a booke, which of 'hem was it you mark'd? Tro. I marke no name, but Adam Ouerdoo, that is the name of names, hee onely is thefufficient Magillrate; and that name I reuerence, fhew it mee. 26 earnes] yearns W, G 28 try though,] try though. i6g2, jyi6, W : try him though. — G 29 houre] hours 1716, W, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 105 Ova. This fellowes madde indeede: I am further off, now, then afore. Ivs. I fliall not breath in peace, till I haue made him fome amends. QvA. Well, I will make another vfe of him, is come in 5 my head: I haue a nefl of beards in my Truncke, one fome thing like his. \The watchmen cojne back againe. Bri. This mad foole has made mee that I know not whether I I haue lock'd the flocks or no, I thinke I lock'd 'hem. 10 Tro. Take Adam .Oucrdoo in your minde, and feare nothing. Bri, S'lid, madneffe it felfe, hold thy peace, and take that. Tro. Strikefl thou without a warrant? take thou that. 15 \^The mad-man fights with 'hem, and they leaue open thejlocks. Bvs. Wee are deliuered by miracle; fellow in fetters, let vs not refufe the meanes, this madneffe was of the fpirit: The malice of the enemy hath mock'd it felfe. PvR. Mad doe they call him! the world is mad in error, but hee is mad in truth: I loue him o'the fudden, 20 (the cunning man fayd all true) and (hall loue him more, and more. How well it becomes a man to be mad in truth! O, that I might be his yoake-fellow, and be mad with him, what a many fhould wee draw to madneffe in [69] truth, with vs! \^The watch mi/sing them are affrighted. 25 Bri. How now! all fcap'd ? where's the zvotnani it is witchcraft! Her veluet hat is a witch, o'my confcience, or my key! t'one. The mad-man was a Diuell, and I am an Affe; fo bleffe me, my place, and mine office. io6 Bartholmevv Fayre. Act. v. Scene. I. Lanthorne. Filcher. Sharkvvel. WEll, Lucke and Saint Bartholmew; out with the figne of our inuention, in the name of Wit, and do you beat the Drum, the while; All the fowle i'the Fayre, I meane, all the dirt in Smith- 5 field, (that's one of Mafler Littlewifs Carwhitchets now) will be throwne at our Banner to day, if the matter do's not pleafe the people. O the Motions, that I Lanthorne Leather- head haue giuen light to, i'my time, fmce my Mafler Pod dyed! \^oA was a Majier of motions before him. 1 Lerufalem was 10 a flately thing ; and fo was Niniiie, and the citty of Norwich, and Sodom and Gomorrah; with the rifmg o'the prentifes; and pulling downe the bawdy houfes there, vpon Shroue- Titefday; but the Gmipowder-plot, there was a get-penny! I haue prefented that to an eighteene, or twenty pence 15 audience, nine times in an afternoone. Your home-borne proie<5ls proue euer the befl, they are fo eafie, and familiar, they put too much learning i'their things now o'dayes: and that I feare will be the fpoile o'this. Little-wit 1 I fay, Mickle-wit\ if not too mickle! looke to your gather- 20 ing there, good man Filcher. FiL, I warrant you. Sir. Lan. And there come any Gentlefolks, take two pence a piece, Sharkwell. Sha. I warrant you, Sir, three pence, an' we can. Bartholmevv Fayre. 107 Act. v. Scene. II. [70] IVSTICE. VVlN-WIFE. GrACE. QvAR- LOVS. PVRE-CRAFT. [ The lujlice comes hi like a Porter. ' I ^His later difguife, I haue borrow'd of a Porter, fhall carry me out to all my great and good ends ; which how euer interrupted, were neuer deflroyed in me: neither is the houre of my feuerity yet come, to reueale my felfe, wherein cloud-like, I will breake out in raine, and haile, 5 lightning, and thunder, vpon the head of enormity. Two maine works I haue to profecute: firft, one is to inuent fome fatisfadlion for the poore, kinde wretch, who is out of his wits for my fake, and yonder I fee him comming, I will walke afide, and proie6l for it. 10 Win. I wonder where Tom Quarlous is, that hee returnes not, it may be he is flrucke in here to feeke vs. Gra. See, heere's our mad-man againe. QvA. I haue made my felfe as like him, as his gowne, and cap will giue me leaue. 15 [Quarlous in the habit of the niad-man is mijlaken by M" Pure-craft. PvR. Sir, I loue you, and would be glad to be mad with you in truth. WiN-w. How! my widdow in loue with a mad-man ? PvR. Verily, I can be as mad in fpirit, as you. QvA. By whofe warrant ? leaue your canting. Gen- 20 tlewoman, haue I found you ? (faue yee, quit yee, and multiply yee) where's your booke ? 'twas a fufficient name I mark'd, let me fee't, be not afraid to fhew't me. \^He de fires to fee the booke of Miflreffe Grace. Gra. What would you with it, Sir ? QvA. Marke it againe, and againe, at your feruice. 25 I later] latter 77/6, \V, G io8 Bartholmevv Fayre. Gra. Heere it is, Sir, this was it you mark'd. QvA. Palemon ? fare you well, fare you well. WiN-w. How, Palemon ! Gra. Yes faith, hee has difcouer'd it to you, now, and 5 therefore 'twere vaine to difguife it longer, I am yours. Sir, by the benefit of your fortune. WiN-w. And you haue him Miflreffe, beleeue it, that fhall neuer giue you caufe to repent her benefit, but make you rather to thinke that in this choyce, fhe had both her lo eyes. Gra. I defire to put it to no danger of proteflation. QvA. Palemon, the word, and Win-wife the man ? [71] Pvr. Good Sir, vouchfafe a yoakefellow in your mad- neffe, fhun not one of the fan6lified fiflers, that would 15 draw with you, in truth. QvA. Away, you are a heard of hypocriticall proud Ignorants, rather wilde, then mad. Fitter for woods, and the fociety of bealls then houfes, and the congregation of men. You are the fecond part of the fociety of Canters, 20 Outlawes to order and Difcipline, and the onely priuiledg'd Church-robbers of Chrijlendome. Let me alone. Palefno?i, the word, and Wimvife the man ? Pvr. I mufl vncover my felfe vnto him, or I fhall neuer enioy him, for all the cnnning mens promifes. Good 25 Sir, heare mee, I am worth fixe thoufand pound, my loue to you, is become my racke, I'll tell you all, and the truth: fmce you hate the hyporifie of the party-coloured brother-hood. Thefe feuen yeeres, I haue beene a wilfuU holy widdow, onely to draw feafls, and gifts from my in- 30 tangled fuitors: I am alfo by office, an affifling fijler of the Deacons, and a deuourer, in Head of a diflributer of the alms. I am a fpeciall maker of marriages for our decayed Brethren, with our rich widdowes ; for a third part of their wealth, when they are marryed, for the reliefe of 35 the poore ele^l: as alfo our poore handfome yong Virgins, with our wealthy Batchelors, or Widdowers; to make them fleale from their husbands, when I haue confirmed Bartholmevv Fayre. 109 them in the faith, and got all put into their cuflodies. And if I ha'not my bargaine, they may fooner turne a fcolding drab, in to a filent Minijler, then make me leaue pronouncing reprobation, and damnation vnto them. Our elder, Zeale-of-the-land, would haue had me, but I know 5 him to be the capitall Knaue of the land, making him- felfe rich, by being made Feoffee in trufl to deceafed Breth- ren, and coozning their heyres, by Avearing the abfolute gift of their inheritance. And thus hauing eas'd my con- fcience, and vtter'd my heart, with the tongue of my loue: 10 enioy all my deceits together. I befeech you. I fliould not haue reuealed this to you, but that in time I thinke you are mad, and I hope you'll thinke mee fo too, Sir ? QvA. Stand afide, I'le anfwer you, prefently. \^He con- fider with him/elf e uf it.] Why fhould not I marry this fixe 15 thoufand pound, now I thinke on't ? and a good trade too, that fliee has befide, ha ? The tother wench, Winwife, is fure of ; there's no expe6lation for me there ! here I may make my felfe fome fauer, yet, if fliee continue mad, there's the queflion. It is money that I want, why fhould 20 I not marry the money, when 'tis offer'd mee ? I haue a Licenfe and all, it is but razing out one name, and putting in another. There's no playing with a man's fortune ! I am refolu'd ! I were truly mad, an' I would not ! well, come your wayes, follow mee, an' you will be mad, I'll 25 fhew you a warrant! \^He takes her along with him. PvR. Mofl zealoufly, it is that I zealoufly defire. Ivs. Sir, let mee fpeake with you. [The luftice calls him. QvA. By whofe warrant ? [72] Ivs. The warrant that you tender, and refpe6l fo ; Iitf- 30 tice Ouerdoo's ! I am the man, friend Trouble-all, though thus difguis'd (as the carefull Magijlrate ought) for the good of the Republique, in the Fayre, and the weeding 7 being made Feoffee] being made a Feoffee 77/6, W, G 15 fhould not I] should I not W, G 17 Comma after Winwife om. i6q2, 1716, W, G 20 fhould I not] should not I 1716, PV, G no Bartholmevv Fayre. out of enormity. Doe you want a houfe or meat, or drinke, or cloathes ? fpeake whatfoeuer it is, it fhall be fupplyed you, what want you ? QvA. Nothing but your 7uarrant. 5 Ivs. My warrant ? for what ? QvA. To be gone. Sir. Ivs. Nay, I pray thee flay, I am ferious, and haue not many words, nor much time to exchange with thee ; thinke what may doe thee good. lo QvA. Your hand and feale, will doe me a great deale of good ; nothing elfe in the whole Fayre, that I knorw. Ivs. If it were to any end, thou fhould'fl haue it will- ingly. QvA. Why, it will fatisfie me, that's end enough, to 15 looke on ; an' you will not gi'it mee, let me goe. Ivs. Alas ! thou fhalt ha'it prefently: I'll but flep into the Scriueners, hereby, and bring it. Doe not goe away. [The luii\c& goes out. QvA. Why, this mad mans fhape, will proue a very fortunate one, I thinke ! can a ragged robe produce thefe 20 effe(5ls ? if this be the wife luflice, and he bring mee his hand, I fhall goe neere to make fome vfe on't. Hee is come already ! {and returns. Ivs. Looke thee ! heere is my hand and feale, Adam Ouerdoo, if there be any thing to be written, aboue in the 25 paper, that thou want'll now, or at any time hereafter ; thinke on't ; it is my deed, I deliuer it fo, can your friend write ? QvA. Her hand for a witnejjfe, and all is well. Ivs. With all my heart. [Hee vrgeth Miftreffe Purecraft. 30 QvA. Why fhould not I ha'the confcience, to make this a bond of a thoufand pound ? now, or what I would elfe? Ivs. Looke you, there it is ; and I deliuer it as my deede againe. 24 in the paper] in that Paper 171b, W, G 31 Interrogation point after pound om. i6g2, ijib, W, G Bartholmevv Fayre. hi QvA. Let vs now proceed in madneffe. \^He takes her in with him. Ivs. Well, my confcience is much eas'd; I ha'done my part, though it doth him no good, yet Adam hath offer'd fatisfadlion ! The fling is remoued from hence : poore man, he is much alter'd with his affli6lion, it has brought 5 him low! Now, for my other worke, reducing the young man (I haue follow'd fo long in loue) from the brinke of his bane, to the center of fafety. Here, or in fome fuch like vaine place, I fliall be fure to finde him, I will waite the good time. ' 10 Act. V. Scene. IIJ. [73] Cokes. Shakrvvel. Ivstice. Fil- CHER. lOHN. LaNTERNE, "pjrOw now ? what's here to doe ? friend, art thou the "*■ Majler of the Monuments ? Sha. 'Tis a Motion^ an't pleafe your worfhip. Ivs. My phantaflicall brother in Law, Mafler Barthol- mew Cokes ! 15 COK. A Motion^ what's that ? \^He reads the Bill.} The ancient moderne hiflory of Hero, and Leander, otherwife called The Touchjio/ie of true Loue, with as true a tryall of friendftiip, betweene Davw7i, and Fit/nas, two faithfull friends o'the Bankfide ? pretty i'faith, what's the mean- 20 ing on't ? is't an Enterlude ? or what is't ? FiL. Yes Sir, pleafe you come neere, wee'll take your money within. CoK. Backe with thefe children; they doe fo follow mee vp and downe. {^The boyes o'the Y-a.yx^ follow him. 25 II Scene III in G begins here, and includes the remai?tder of Act V. 112 Bartholmevv Fayre. loH. By your leaue, friend. FiL. You mull pay, Sir, an' you goe in. loH. Who, I ? I perceiue thou know'ft not mee: call the Mafter o'the Motion. 5 Sha What, doe you not know the Author, fellow Filcher ? you mufl take no money of him ; he mufl come in gratis: M^ Littlewit is a voluntary; he is the Author. loH. Peace, fpeake not too lowd, I would not haue any notice taken, that I am the Author, till wee fee how it lo paffes. CoK. Mailer Littlezvit, how do'fl thou ? loH. Mafler Cokes ! you are exceeding well met: what, in your doublet, and hofe, without a cloake, or a hat ? CoK. I would I might neuer flirre, as I am an honefl 15 man, and by that fire; I haue loll all i'the Fayre, and all my acquaintance too; did'ft thou meet any body that I know, Mafler Littlctvit ? my man Numps, or my filler Ouerdoo, or Millreffe Grace ? pray thee Mailer Littlewit, lend mee fome money to fee the Interlude, here. I'le pay 20 thee againe, as I am a Gentleman. If thou'lt but carry mee home, I haue money enough there. loH. O, Sir, you fhall command it, what, will a crowne ferue you ? [74] ^<^^- I think it well, what do we pay for comming in, 25 fellowes ? FiL. Two pence, Sir. CoK. Twopence ? there's twelue pence, friend; Nay, I am a Gallant, as fimple as I looke now ; if you fee mee with my man about me, and my Artillery, againe. 30 loH. Your man was i'the Stocks, ee'n now, Sir. CoK. Who, Numps ? loH. Yes faith. CoK. For what i'faith, I am glad o'that ; remember to tell me on't anone; I haue enough, now ! What manner 35 of matter is this, M^ Littlewit ? What kind of A6lors ha' you ? Are they good A6lors ? 24 well] will i6g2, iyi6, W, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 113 loH. Pretty youthes, Sir, all children both old and yong, heer's the Mailer of 'hem — (Lan. [Leatherhead whifpers to Littlwit.] Call me not Leather- head^ but Lanterne.')- loH. Mailer Lanterne, that giues light to the bufineffe, 5 CoK. In good time, Sir, I would faine fee 'hem, I would be glad drinke with the young company; which is the Tiring-houfe ? Lan. Troth, Sir, our Tiring-houfe is fomewhat little, we are but beginners, yet, pray pardon vs; you cannot 10 goe vpright in't. CoK. No ? not now my hat is off ? what would you haue done with me, if you had had me, feather, and all, as I was once to day ? Ha'you none of your pretty impudent boyes, now; to bring flooles, fill Tabacco, fetch 15 Ale, and beg money, as they haue at other houfes ! let me fee fome o'your Aflors. Ion. Shew him 'hem, fhew him 'hem. Mafler Lanterne, this is a Gentleman, that is a fauorer of the quality. Ivs. I, the fauouring of this licencious quality, is the 20 confumption of many a young Gentleman; a pernicious enormity. \^He brings them out in a basket. CoK. What, doe they Hue in baskets ? Lea. They doe lye in a basket, Sir, they are o'the fmall Players. 25 CoK. Thefe be Players minors, indeed. Doe you call thefe Players ? Lan. They are AHors, Sir, and as good as any, none difprais'd, for dumb fhowes: indeed, I am the mouth of 'hem all ! 30 CoK. Thy mouth will hold 'hem all. I thinke, one Taylor, would goe neere to beat all this company, with a hand bound behinde him. loH. I, and eate 'hem all, too, an' they were in cake- bread. 35 7 glad drinke] glad to drink IV, G 114 Bartholmevv Fayre. CoK. I thanke you for that, Mafler Littlewit, a good iefl ! which is your Burba ge now ? Lan. What meane you by that, Sir ? CoK. Your bell A^or. Your Field ? 5 loH. Good ifaith ! you are euen with me. Sir. Lan. This is he, that a6ls young Leander, Sir. He is extreamly belou'd of the womenkind, they doe fo affedl [75] ^^^ a6lion, the green gameflers, that come here, and this is louely Hero; this with the beard, Damon; and this 10 pretty Pythias: this is the ghofl of King Dionyfius in the habit of a fcriuener: as you fhall fee anone, at large. CoK. Well they are a ciuill company, I like 'hem for that ; they offer not to fieere, nor geere, nor breake iefls, as the great Players doe: And then, there goes not fo 15 much charge to the feafling of 'hem, or making 'hem drunke, as to the other, by reafon of their littleneffe. Doe they vfe to play perfe6l ? Are they neuer flufler'd ? Lan. No, Sir, I thanke my induflry, and policy for it; they are as well gouern'd a company, though I fay it — 20 And heere is young Leander, is as proper an AHor of his inches; and fhakes his head like an hofller. CoK. But doe you play it according to the printed booke ? I haue read that. Lan. By no meanes, Sir. 25 CoK. No ? How then ? Lan. a better way. Sir, that is too learned, and poet- icall for our audience; what cioe they know what Hellef- po7it is ? Guilty of true loues blood ? or what Abidos is ? or the other Sejios hight ? 30 CoK. Th'art i'the right, I do not know my felfe. Lan. No, I haue entreated Mafler Littleivit, to take a little paines to reduce it to a more familiar flraine for our people. CoK. How, I pray thee, good M^ Littlewit ? 35 loH. It pleafes him to make a matter of it. Sir. But there is no fuch matter I affure you : I haue onely made it a little eafie, and moderne for the times, Sir, that's all; As, Bartholmevv Fayre. 115 for the Hellefpont I imagine our Thames here; and then Leander, I make a Diers fonne, about Pitddle-wharfe: and Hero a wench o'the Banke-fide, who going ouer one morn- ing, to old fifli-flreet ; Leander fpies her land at Trigf- Jlayers, and falls in loue with her: Now do I introduce 5 Cupid, hauing Metamorphosed himfelfe into a Drawer, and hee flrikes Hero in loue with a pint of Sherry, and other pretty paffages there are, o'the friendfhip, that will delight you, Sir, and pleafe you of iudgement. CoK. I'll be fworne they fhall ; I am in loue with the 10 AHors already, and I'll be allyed to them prefently. (They refpe6l gentlemen, thefe fellowes) Hero fhall be my fayr- ing: But, which of my fayrings ? (Le'me fee) i'faith, my fiddle\ and Leander vay fiddle-JJicke: Then Damon, my drutn; and Pythias, my Pipe and the ghofl of Dionyfius, my hobby- ic horfe. All fitted. Act. V. Scene. IV. To them Win-wife. Grace. Knockhvm. Whitt. Edgvvorth. Win. Miftris OvERDOO. And to them VVaspe. Looke yonder's your Cokes gotten in among his play- fellowes ; I thought we could not miffe him, at fuch a Spe6tacle. Gra. Let him alone, he is fo bufie, he will neuer fpie vs. Lea. Nay, good Sir. \Q,oV&% is handling the '^x^-^'^qXs. CoK. I warrant thee, I will not hurt her, fellow; what dofl think me vnciuill ? I pray thee be not iealous: I am toward a wife. 24 dofl think] dost thou think G [76] 20 25 ii6 Bartholmevv Fayre. lOH. Well good Mafler Lanteme, make ready to begin, that I may fetch my wife, and looke you be perfe6l, you vndoe me elfe, i'my reputation. Lan. I warrant you Sir, doe not you breed too great an 5 expedlation of it, among your friends: that's the onely hurter of thefe things. loH. No, no, no. CoK. I'll flay here, and fee; pray thee let me fee. WiN-vv. How diligent and troublefome he is! lo Gra. The place becomes him, me thinkes. Ivs. My ward, Miflreffe Grace in the company of a flranger ? I doubt I fhall be compell'd to difcouer my felf e, before my time ! FiL. Two pence a piece Gentlemen, an excellent 15 Motion. \_The doore-keepers fpeake. Kno. Shall we haue fine fire-works, and good vapours ! Sha. Yes Captaine, and water-works, too. Whi. I pree dee, take a care o'dy fhmall Lady, there, Edgnwrth; I will looke to difh tall Lady my felfe. 20 Lan. Welcome Gentlemen, welcome Gentlemen. Whi. Predee, Mafhter o'de MonJhterJ/i, helpe a very ficke Lady, here, to a chayre, to fhit in. Lan. Prefently, Sir. Whi. Good fait now, Vrjla's Ale, and Aqua-vitae ifh to 25 blame for't; [They bring Mijiris OuerAoo a chayre.'] fhit downe fhweet heart, fhit downe, and fhleep a little. Edg. Madame, you are very welcom hither. Kno. Yes, and you fhall fee very good vapours. Ivs. Here is my care come! I like to fee him in fo 30 good company; and yet I wonder that perfons of fuch fafhion, fliould refort hither! [^jj/ Edgeworth. [77] Edg. This is a very priuate houfe, Madame. [The Ctit-pur/e courts Mijlrejfe Littlewit. Lan. Will it pleafe your Ladifhip fit, Madame ? Win. Yes good-man. They doe fo all to be Madame 35 niee, I thinke they thinke me a very Lady! 32 This] There 1716, W, G 34 all-to-be-madam W, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 117 Edg. What elfe Madame ? Win. Mufl I put off my mafque to him ? Edg. O, by no meanes. Win. How fhould my husband know mee, then ? Kno. Husband? an idle vapour; he mull not know 5 you, nor you him ; there's the true vapour. Ivs. Yea, I will obferue more of this: is this a Z^^', friend ? Whi. I, and dat is anoder Lad}\ fhweet heart; if dou hafht a minde to 'hem giue me twelue pence from tee, and 10 dou fhalt haue eder-oder on 'hem ! Ivs. I? This will prooue my chiefefl enormity: I will follow this. Edg, Is not this a finer life, Lady\ then to be clogg'd with a husband ? 15 Win. Yes, a great deale. When will they beginne, trow ? in the name o'the Motiofi ? Edg. By and by Madame, they (lay but for company. Kno. Doe you heare, /'////^/-Mailer, thefe are tedious vapours; when begin you? 20 Lan. We flay but for Mafler Littlewit, the AiUhor, who is gone for his wife; and we begin prefently. Win. That's I, that's I. Edg. That was you, Lady; but now you are no fuch poore thing. 25 Kno. Hang the Authors wife, a running vapour! here be Ladies, will flay for nere a Delia o'hem all. Whi. But heare mee now, heere ifh one o'de LadiJJi, a fhleep, flay till fhee but vake man. Was. How now friends ? what's heere to doe ? 30 FiL. Two pence a piece, Sir, the bed Motion, in the Fayre. [ The doore-keepers againe. Was. I beleeue you lye; if you doe, I'll haue my money againe, and beat you. Win. Numps is come! 35 Was. Did you fee a Mafler of mine, come in here, a tall yong Squire of Harrow o'the Hill; Mafler Bartholmew Cokes ? ii8 Bartholmevv Fayre. FiL. I thinke there be fuch a one, within. Was. Looke hee be, you were bell: but it is very- likely: I wonder I found him not at all the refl. I ha' beene at the Eagle, and the blacke Wolfe, and the Bull with 5 the fine legges, and two pizzles; (hee was a Calfe at Vxbridge Fayre, two yeeres agone) And at the dogges that daunce the Morrice, and the Hare o'the Taber\ and mill him at all thefe! Sure this mull needs be fome fine fight, that holds him fo, if it haue him. [78] CoK. Come, come, are you ready now ? Lan. Prefently, Sir. Was. Hoyday, hee's at worke in his Dublet, and hofe; doe you heare. Sir ? are you imploy'd ? that you are bare headed, and fo bufie ? 15 CoK. Hold your peace, Numpes; you ha'beene i'the Stocks, I heare. Was. Do's he know that ? nay, then the date of my Authority \s, ovX; I mufl thinke no longer to raigne, my gouernment is at an end. He that will corre6l another, 20 mufl want fault in himfelfe. WiN-w. Sententious Numps ! I neuer heard fo much from him, before. Lan. Sure, Mailer Z////^7<:/// will not come; pleafe you take your place, Sir, wee'll beginne. 25 CoK. I pray thee doe, mine eares long to be at it; and my eyes too. O Numps, i'the Stocks, Numps ? where's your fword, Numps ? Was. I pray you intend your game, Sir, let me alone. CoK. Well then, we are quit for all. Come, fit downe, 30 Numps; I'le interpret to thee: did you fee Millreffe Grace 1 it's no matter, neither, now I thinke on't, tell mee anon. WiN-w. A great deale of loue, and care, he expreffes. Gra. Alas! would you haue him to expreffe more then hee has ? that were tyranny. 35 CoK. Peace, ho; now, now. Lan. Gentles, that no longer your expectations may wander. Behold our chief A^or, amorous Leander. 36 Gentles\ Gentiles i6g2, iyi6 Bartholmevv Fayre. 119 With a great deale of cloth, lap'd about him like a Scarf e, For he yet femes his father, a Dyer at Puddle wharf e, Which place wee' II make bold with, to call it our Abidus, As the Banke-fide is our Seflos, and let it not be deufd vs. Now, as he is beating, to make the Dye take the fuller, 5 Who chances to come by, but fair e Hero, in a Sculler; And feeing Leanders naked legge, and goodly calfe, Cafl at him, from, the boat, a Sheepes eye, and a halfe. Now JJie is lajided, a?id the Sculler come backe ; By and by, you fJiall fee what Leander doth lacke. 10 Pvp. L. Cole, Cole, old Cole. Lan. That is the Scullers na??ie without controle. Pvp. L. Cole, Cole, I fay. Cole. Lan. We doe heare you. Pvp. L. Old Cole. 15 Lan. Old cole ? Is the Dyer turn'd Collier ? how do you fell ? Pvp. L. a pox o'your maners, kiffe my hole here, and fmell. Lan. Kiffe your hole, and fmelll there's manners indeed. Pvp. L. Why, Cole, I fay. Cole. Lan. It's the Sculler you need ! 20 Pvp. L. /, and be hang' d. [79] Lan. Be hang' d; looke you yonder. Old Cole, you muft go hang with M after Leander. Pvp. C. Where is he ? Pvp. L. Here, Cole, what fayerefl of Payers, 25 was that fare, that thou landefl but now a Trigsflayres ? CoK. What was that, fellow ? Pray thee tell me, I fcarfe vnderfland 'hem. Lan. 'L.Q2iX\.diQX do's aske. Sir, what fayrefl of Payers, Was the fare thhe landed, but now, at Trigsflayers ? 30 Pvp. C. It is louely Hero. Pvp. L. Nero? Pvp. C. No, Hero. Lan. It is Hero. 20 Is't the sculler 3'ou need? G 26 a\ at j6g2, 17 16, IV, G 30 thhe\ he i6g2, 17 16, IV, G I20 Bartholmevv Fayre, Of the Bankfide, he faith, to tell you truth with out erring, Is come ouer into FiJJi-flreet to eat fome frefh herring. Leanderyiri'^j' no more, but as fafl as he can. Gets on all his befl cloathes', and will after to the Swan. 5 CoK. Mofl admirable good, is't not ? Lan. Stay, Sculler. Pvp. C. What fay you 1 Lan. You mufl flay for Leander, and carry him to the wetich. lo Pvp. C. You Rogue, I am no Pandar. CoK. He fayes he is no Pandar. 'Tis a fine language; I vnderfland it, now. Lan. Are you no Pandar, Goodman Cole ? heers no man fayes you are, You'll grow a hot Cole, it feemes, pray you flay for your fare. 15 Pvp. C. Will hee come away ? Lan. What doe you fay ? Pvp. C. Pde ha' him come. away. Lea. Would you /^a'Leander come awayl why 'pray' Sir, flay. You are angry, Goodman Cole; I beleeue the fair e Mayd 20 Came ouer w'you a'trufl : tell vs. Sculler, are you paid. Pvp. C. Yes Goodman Hogrubber, o'Pickt-hatch. Lav : How, Hogrubber o'Pickt-hatch ? Pvp. C. I Hogrubber o'Pickt-hatch. Take you that. [The Puppet y?;'f^^j- him ouer the pate Lan. O, my head ! 25 Pvp. C. Harme watch, harme catch. CoK. Harme watch, harme catch, he fayes : very good i'faith, the Sculler had like to ha'knock'd you, firrah. Lan. Yes, but that his fare call'd him away. Pvp. L. Row apace, row apace, row, row, row, row, row. 30 Lan. You are knauiflily loaden, Sculler, take heed where you goe, Pvp. C. Knaue i' your face, Goodman Rogue. Pvp. L. Row, row, row, row, row, row. CoK. Hee faid knaue i'your face, friend. BaRTHOLMEVV FaYRE. 121 Lan. I Sir, I heard him. But there's no talking to [8o] thefe watermen, they will ha'the lafl word CoK. God's my life! I am not allied to the Sculler, yet ; hee fhall be DaitpJiin my boy. But my Fiddle-flicke do's fiddle in and out too much; I pray thee fpeake to 5 him on't: tell him, I would haue him tarry in my fight, more. Lan. I Pray you be content; you'll haue enough on him. Sir. Now gentles, I take it, here is none of yoii fo Jlupid, lo but that you haue heard of a little god of loue, call'd Cupid. Who out of kindnes to Leander, hearing he but f aw her, this prefent day and houre, doth turne him f elf e to a Drawer. And becaufe, he would haue their fir fl meeting to be merry, he fir ikes Hero in loue to him, with a pint of Sherry. 15 Which he tells her, from amorous Leander is fent her, who after hitn, into the roome of Hero, doth venter. [Pvp. Leander ^^fj- itito Mijlris Hero's room Pvp. lo : A pint of fackc, fcore a pint of facke, i'the Conney. CoK. Sack ? you faid but ee'n now it fhould be Sherry. 20 Pvp. Io: Why fo it is; fherry,fJierry, flierry. CoK. Sherry, fJierry, flierry. By my troth he makes me merry. I mufi. haue a name for Cupid, too. Let me fee, thou mightfL helpe me now, an' thou wouldefl, Numps, at a dead lift, but thou art dreaming o'the flocks, flill! Do 25 not thinke on't, I haue forgot it: 'tis but a nine dayes wonder, man ; let it not trouble thee. Was. I would the flocks were about your necke, Sir; condition I hung by the heeles in them, till the wonder were off from you, with all my heart. 30 CoK. Well faid xQioXxxtQ Numps: but hearke you friend, where is the friendfhip, all this while, betweene my Drum, Damon; and my Pipe, Pythias ? Lan. You fhall fee by and by, Sir ? 17 venter\ venture i6q2, 17 16, W, G 34 Sir?] Sir. 769.?, 17 16, W, G 12 2 Bartholmevv Fayre. CoK. You thinke my Hobby-horfe is forgotten, too; no, I'll fee 'hem all ena6l before I go; I Ihall not know which to loue befl, elfe. Kno. This Gallant has interrupting vapours, trouble- 5 fome vapours, W/iitt, pulfe with him. Whit. No, I pre dee, Captaine, let him alone. Hee is a Child i'faith, la'. Lan. Now gentles, to the frei7ids, who in number, are two, and lodg'd in that Ale-houfe, in 7vhich /aire Hero do's doe. lo Damon [for fome kindneffe done him the lajl weeke) is co7ne faire Hero, in FiJJi-Jlreete, this morning to feeke: Pythias do's fmell the knauery of the meeting, and now you fJiall fee their true friendly greeting. Pvp. Pi. You tvhore-mafterly Slaue, you. 15 CoK. Whore-maflerly flaue, you ? very friendly, & familiar, that. Pvp. Da. Whore-mafter i' thy face, Thou hafl lien with her thy f elfe, I'll proue't V this place. CoK. Damon fayes Pythias has lien with her, himfelfe, 20 hee'll prooue't in this place. [81] Lan. They are Whore- maflers both, Sir, that's a plaine cafe. Pvp. Pi. You lye, like a Rogue. Lan. Doe I ly, like a Rogue ? Pvp. Pi. A Pi77ipe, a7id a Scabbe. 25 Lan. a Pi77ipe, a7id a Scabbe ? I fay between you, you haue both but o/ie Drabbe. Pvp. Da. You lye agai7ie. Lan. Doe I lye agai7ie ? Pvp. Da. Like a Rogue agai7ie. 30 Lan. Like a Rogue agai7ie ? Pvp. Pi. And you are a Pi77ipe, agai7ie. CoK. And you are a Pi77ipe againe, he fayes. Pvp. Da. And a Scabbe, agai7te. CoK. And a Scabbe againe, he fayes. 8 ge7ttles\ Gentiles i6g2, ijid. Bartholmevv Fayre. 123 Lan. And I fay againe, you are both whore-majlers againe^ and you haue both but one Dt'abbe againe. ^They fight. Pvp. Da. Pi. Do Jl thou, do Jl thou, dojlthoul AN. What, both at once ? Pvp. p. Downe tvith him, Damon 5 Pvp. D. Pinke his guts, Pythias: Lan. What, fo malicious ? will ye murder me, Majters both, i'tnine otvne houfe ? CoK. Ho! well adled my Drum, well adted my Pipe, well a<5led (lill. 10 Was. Well a6led, with all my heart. Lan. Hid, hold your hands CoK. I, both your hands, for my fake! for you ha' both done well. Pvp. D. Gramercy pure Pythias. 15 Pvp. p. Gramercy, Deare Damon. CoK. Gramercy to you both, my Pipe, and my drum. Pvp. P.D. Come noio 7vee'll together to breakfajl to Hero. Lan. ' Tis well, you can now go to breakfajl to Hero, you haue giuen mmy breakfafl, with a hone i?;/\ me my ibg2, 1716, IV, G 24 Gentles] Gentiles i6g2, iyi6 f 124 Bartholmevv Fayre. From vnder his aproti, where his lechery liirkes, put loiie in her Sacke. Now viarke how it workes. Pvp. H. O Leander Leander, my deare my deare Leander, rie for euer be thy goofe, fo thou' It be my gander. 5 CoK. Excellently well faid, Fiddle^ fliee'll euer be his goofe, fo hee'll be her gander: was't not fo ? Lan, Yes, Sir, but marke his anfwer, now. Pvp, L. And fweetejl of geefe, before I goe to bed, Fllfwimmeo're the Thames, my goofe, thee to tread. 10 CoK. Braue! he will fwimme o're the Thatnes, and tread his goofe, too night, he fayes. Lan. I, peace, Sir, the'll be angry, if they heare you eauef-dropping, now they are fetting their match. Pvp. L. But left the Thames fJiould be dark, my goofe, my deare friend, \c let thy window be protiided of a candles end. Pvp, H. Feare not my ga?ider, I protefl, I fJiould handle my matters very ill, if I had not a whole candle. Pvp. L. Well then, looke tot, and kiffe ?7ie to boote. Lan. Now, heere come the friends againe, Pythias, csnd Damon, 20 cind vnder their clokes, they haue of Bacon, a gammon. [Damon and Pythias enter. Pvp. p. Drawer, fill fome wine heere. Lan, How, fome wine there ? there's company already. Sir, pray forbeare! Pvp. D. 'Tis Hero. 25 Lan. Yes, but ffiee will not be taken, after facke, and frefh herring, with your 'Dn'nuxo'w -bacon. Pvp. F You lye, it's Weflfabian. Lan. Weftphaliaii you fhould fay. Pvp. D. If you hold not your peace, you are a Coxcombe, I 30 would fay. [Leander and Hero are kijjing. Pvp. What's here ? what's here ? kiffe, kiffe, vpon kiffe. Lan. /, Wherefore f/tould they not ? what harme is in this ? 'tis Miflreffe Hero. Pvp. D. Miflreffe Hero's a whore. Bartholmevv Fayre. 125 Lan. Is JJiee a whore ? keepe you quiet, or Sir Knaue out of dore. Pvp. D. Knaue out of doore ? Pvp. II. Yes, Knaue, out of doore. Pvp. D. Whore out of doore. [ffeere the Puppets quarrell and fall together by the eares, Pvp. H. I fay, Ktiaue, out of doore. 5 Pvp. D. I say, whore, out of doore. Pvp. p. Yea, fo fay I too. Pvp. H. Kiffe the whore d'the arfe. Lan. Now you hafomething to doe: you mufl kiffe her 0' the arfe JJiee f ayes. 10 Pvp. D. p. So we 7vill, fo we will. Pvp. H. O my hanches, O my hanches, hold, hold. Lan. Stand' fl thou flill ? Leander, where art thou ? fland'fl thou flill like a fot, and not offer' fl to breake both their heads tvith a pot ? [83] See who's at thine elbow, there ! Puppet lonas and Cupid.' Vpon 'hem Leander, be not fo flupid. \_T hey fight. You Goat-bearded flaue ! You whore-mafler Knaue. Thou art a whore-mafler. 20 Whore-maflers all. See, Cupid luith a ivord has tane ip the brawle. Thefe be fine vapours ! By this good day they fight brauely ! doe they not, Numps ? 25 Was. Yes, they lack'd but you to be their fecond, all this while. Lan. This tragicall encounter, falling out thus to bufie vs, It raifes vp the ghofl of their friend Dionyfius : Not like a Monarch, but the Mafler of a Schoole, ^o in a Scriueners furr'd gowne, which fhewes he is no foole. for therein he hath wit enough to keepe himfelfe warme. O Damon he cries, and Pythias ; tvhat harnie, Hath poore Dionyfius done you in his graue, That after his death, you fJiould fall out thus, and raue, ^c And call amorous Leander whore-mafler Knaue? Pvp. D. I cannot, I will not, I protnife you endure it. Pvp. L Pvp. Z. Pvp. D. Pvp. I. Pvp. I. Lan. Kno. r COK. I 126 Bartholmevv Fayre, Act. v. Scene. V. To them Bvsy. T> VS. Downe with Dagon, downe with JDagon; 'tis I, will ■^ no longer endure your prophanations. Lan. What meane you, Sir ? Bvs. I will remoue Dagon there, I fay, that Idoll^ that 5 heathenifli Idoll, that remaines (as I may fay) a beame, a very beame, not a beame of the Sunne, nor a beame of the Moone, nor a beame of a ballance, neither a houfe-beame, nor a Weauers beame, but a beame in the eye, in the eye of the brethren; a very great beame, an exceeding lo great beame; fuch as are your Stage-players, Rimers, and Morrife-dancers, who haue walked hand in hand, in con- tempt of the Brethren, and the Caufe-, and beene borne out by inftruments, of no meane countenance. Lan. Sir, I prefent nothing, but what is licens'd by 15 authority. Bas. Thou art all licenfe, euen licentioiifneffe it felfe, Shimei ! Lan. I haue the Mafler of the ReuelVs haud for't, Sir. [84] Bvs. The MafLer of Retells hand, thou hafl; Satan s \ 20 hold thy peace, thy fcurrility fhut vp thy mouth, thy pro- feffion is damnable, and in pleading for it, thou dofl plead for Baal. I haue long opened my mouth wide, and gaped, I haue gaped as the oyfler for the tide after thy dellruc- tion: but cannot compaffe it by fute, or difpute; fo thar I 25 looke for a bickering, ere long, and then a battell. Kno. Good Banbury-vapours . CoK. Friend, you'ld haue an ill match on't, if you bicker with him here, though he be no man o'the fifl, hee I 'tis I, I will G 20 {cnxxiWxy followed by a comma idgz, ijib, W, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 127 has friends that will goe to cuffes for him, Numps, will not you take our fide ? Edg. Sir, it fhall not need, in my minde, he offers him a fairer courfe, to end it by difputation ! hafl thou nothing to fay for thy felfe, in defence of thy quality ? 5 Lan. Faith, Sir, I am not well ftudied in thefe con- trouerfies, betweene the hypocrites and vs. But here's one of my Motion, Pitppet JDonifms fhall vndertake him, and I'le venture the caufe on't. CoK. Who ? my Hobby-horfe ? will he difpute with 10 him ? Lan, Yes, Sir, and make a Hobby-Affe of him, I hope. CoK. That's excellent ! indeed he lookes like the befl. fcholler of 'hem all. Come, Sir, you mufl be as good as your word, now. 15 Bvs. I will not feare to make my fpirit, and gifts knowne ! affifl me zeale, fill me, fill me, that is, make me full. WiN-w. What a defperate, prophane wretch is this ! is there any Ignorance, or impudence like his? to call his 20 zeale to fill him againfl a Puppet 1 QvA. I know no fitter match, then a Puppet to commit with an Hypocrite ? Bvs. Firfl, I fay vnto thee, Idoll, thou hafl no Calling. Pvp. D. You lie, J am calVd Dionifius. 25 Lan. The Motion fayes you lie, he is call'd Dionifcus ithe matter, and to that calling he anfwers. Bvs. I meane no vocation, Idoll, no prefent lawful! Calling. Pvp. D. Is yours a lawfull Calli?ig} 30 Lan. The Motion asketh, if yours be a lawfull Calling'^ Bvs. Yes, mine is of the Spirit. Pvp. D. Then Idoll is a lawfull Calling. Lan. He faies, then Idoll is a lawfull Calling ! for you call'd him Idoll, and your Calling is of the fpirit. 35 CoK. Well difputed, Hobby-horfe ! I goe om. IV, G 128 Bartholmevv Fayre. Bvs. Take not part with the wicked young Gallant. He neygheth and hinneyeth, all is but hinnying Sophiflry, I call him Idoll againe. Yet, I fay, his Calling, his Pro- feffion is prophane, it is prophane, Idoll. e Pvp. D. It is not prophane ! Lan. It is not prophane, he fayes. Bvs. It is prophane. Pvp. It is not prophane. [85] Bvs. It is prophane. 10 Pvp. // is not prophane. Lan "Well faid, confute him with not., flill. You can- not beare him downe with your bafe noyfe, Sir. Bvs. Nor he me, with his treble creeking, though he creeke like the chariot wheeles of Satan ; I am zealous for 15 the Caufe — Lan. As a dog for a bone. Bvs. And I fay, it is prophane, as being the Page of Pride, and the waiting woman of vanity. Pvp. D. F^a ? what fay you to your Tire-women, thenl 20 Lan. Good. Pvp. Or feather-makers i'the Fryers, that are o'your fallion of faith ? Are not they with their perrukes, and their puffes, their fannes, and their huff es, as much Pages ^/ Pride, and waiters vpon vanity? what fay you 1 what fay you 1 what 25 fay you 1 Bvs. I will not anfwer for them. Pvp. Becaiife you cannot, becaufe you cannot. Is a Bugle- maker a lawfull Calling ? or the Confe6l-makers ? fuch you haue there : or your French Fafhioner ? you'ld haue all the 30 finne within your felues, would you notl would you not} Bvs. No, Dagon. Pvs. What then, Dagonet ? is a Puppet worfe then thefe ? Bvs. Yes, and my maine argument againll you, is, that you are an abomination : for the Male, among you, putteth 35 on the apparell of the Female, and the Female of the Male. Pvp. You lye, you lye, you lye abominably. I Comma supplied after wicked 17 16, IV, G Bartholmevv Fayre. 129 CoK. Good, by my troth, he has giuen him the lye thrice. Pvp. It is your old Jlale argument againjl the Players, but it will not hold againjl the Puppets ; for we haue neyther Male nor Female amoiigjl vs. And that thou mafjl fee, if thou 5 wilt, like a malicious purblinde zeale as thou art ! [ The Puppet takes vp his garment. Edg. By my faith, there he has anfwer'd you, friend ; by playne demonftration. Pvp. Nay, I'le proue, againfl ere a Rabbin of 'hem all, that my Jlanding is as law full as his ; that I fpeak by infpira- 10 tion, as well as he ; that I haue as little to doe with learning as he ; and doe fcorne her helps as much as he. Bvs, I am confuted, the Caufe hath failed me. Pvs. Then be conuerted, be conuerted. Lan. Be conuerted, I pray you, and let the Play goe 15 on ! Bvs. Let it goe on. For I am changed, and will be- come a beholder Avith you ! CoK. That's braue i'faith, thou hafl carryed it away, Hobby-horfe, on with the Play! 20 I vs. [The lufiice difcouers him/elfe.'\ Stay, now do I forbid, I Adam Ouerdoo ! fit flill, I charge you. CoK. What, my Brother i'law ! Gra. My wife Guardian ! Edg. luflice OuerdooX 25 Ivs. It is time, to take Enormity by the fore head, and [86] brand it ; for, I haue difcouer'd enough. 8 by playne] a plain G 22 I am Adam i6g2, iji6, W, G 13° Bartholmevv Fayre. Act. V. Scene. VI. To them^ Qvarlovs. {like the Mad-man) Pvre- CRAFT. {a while after) Iohn. to them Trov- BLE-ALL. VrSLA. NiGHTIGALE. eVAR. Nay, come Miflreffe Bride. You mull doe as I doe, now. You mull be mad with mee, in truth. I haue heere lujiice Ouerdoo for it. Ivs. Peace good Trouble-all ; come hither, and you 5 Ihall trouble none. I will take the charge of you, and your friend too, \^To the Cutpur/e, and Mijlreffe Litwit.] yoU alfo, young man fhall be my care, fland there. Edg. Now, mercy vpon mee. Kno. Would we were away, Whit, thefe are dangerous lo vapours, befl fall off with our birds, for feare o'the Cage. [ The rejl are Jlealing away. Ivs. Stay, is not my name your terror ? Whi. Yefli faith man, and it ifh fot tat, we would be gone man. loH. O Gentlemen! did you not fee a wife of mine? I 15 ha'lofl my little wife, as I fhall be trufled: my little pretty Win, I left her at the great woman's houfe in trufl yon- der, the Pig-womans, with Captaine lordan, and Captaine Whit, very good men, and I cannot heare of her. Poore foole, I feare fliee's flepp'd afide. Mother, did you not fee 20 Win ? Ivs. If this graue Matron be your mother. Sir, fland by her, Et digito compefce labellum, I may perhaps fpring a wife for you, anone. Brother Bartholmew, I am fadly forry, to fee you fo lightly giuen, and fuch a Difciple of 25 enormity : with your graue Gouernour Humphrey : but 6 friend too,] Friend too ; i6g2, 1716, W, G , Bartholmevv Fayre. 131 (land you both there, in the middle place ; I will repre- hend you in your courfe. Miflreffe Grace, let me refcue ' you out of the hands of the flranger. WiN-w. Pardon me, Sir, I am a kinfman of hers. Ivs. Are you fo ? of what name, Sir ? 5 WiN-w. Winwi/e, Sir : Ivs. Mafler Winwife ? I hope you haue won no wife of her. Sir. If you haue, I will examine the poffibility of it, at fit leafure. Now, to my enormities : looke vpon mee, O LondonX and fee mee, O Smithfield \ The exainple of 10 lujlice, and Mirror of Magiflrates: the true top of formal- ity, and fcourge of enormity. Harken vnto my labours, [87] and but obferue my difcoueries ; and compare Hercules with me, if thou dar'fl, of old ; or Columbus ; Magellan ; or our countrey man Drake of later times : Hand forth 15 you weedes of enormity, and fpread. \^To Bufy,] First, Rabbi Bufy, thou fuperlunaticall hypocrite, [Ti? Lantern,] next, thou other extremity, thou prophane profeffor of Puppetry, little better then Poetry : [To the hor/e courfer, and gutpur/e.^ then thou llrong Debaucher, and Seducer of 20 youth ; witneffe this eafie and honefl young man : [Then Cap. Whit,] now thou Efquire of Dames, Madams, and twelue-penny Za^zVi': [and Mijlreffe'L\\.\\Q\\\x.'\ now my greene Madame her felfe, of the price. Let mee vnmafque your LadiJJiip. 25 loH. O my wife, my wife, my wife ! Ivs. Is fhe your wife ? Redde te Harpocratem ! [Enter Trouble-all. Tro. By your leaue, fland by my Maflers, be vncouer'd. Vrs. O flay him, flay him, helpe to cry. Nightingale-, my pan, my panne. ^jo Ivs. What's the matter ? Nig. Hee has flolne gammar Vrfla's panne. Tro. Yes, and I feare no man but luflice Ouerdoo. Ivs. Vrfla ? where is fhe ? O the Sow of enormity, this! [To Vrfla and Nightingale.] welcome, fland you there, ^e you Songfler, there. 132 Bartholmevv Fayre. Vrs. An' pleafe your worfhip, I am in no fault: A Gentleman ftripp'd him in my Booth, and borrow'd his gown, and his hat; and hee ranne away with my goods, here, for it. 5 Ivs. [To Quarlous.] Then this is the true mad-man, and you are the enormity! QvA. You are i'the right, I am mad, but from the gowne outward. Ivs. Stand you there. 10 QvA. Where you pleafe. Sir. Over O lend me a bafon, I am ficke, I am ficke; Where's M^ Ouerdoo ? Bridget, call hither my Adam. [Mijlrejfe Ouerdoo is ficke : and her husband is fclenc'd. Ivs. How ? Whi. Dy very owne wife, i'fait, worfhipfuU Adam. 15 Over. Will not my Adam come at mee ? fliall I fee him no more then ? QvA. Sir, why doe you not goe on with the enormity ? are you opprefl with it ? I'le helpe you: harke you Sir, i'your eare, your In7iocent young ?nan, you haue tane fuch 20 care of, all this day, is a Cutpurfe\ that hath got all youf brother Cokes his things, and help'd you to your beating, and the flocks; if you haue a minde to hang him now, and fhew him your Magijlrates wit, you may: but I fhould think it were better, recouering the goods, and to faue 25 your eflimation in him. I thank you S^ for the gift of your Ward, M'^^ Grace: look you, here is your hand & feale, by the way. M^ Win-wife giue you ioy, you are Palemon, you are poffefl o'the Gentlewoman, but fhe mufl pay me value, here's warrant for it. And honefl mad-man, 30 there's thy gowne, and cap againe; I thanke thee for my wife. [To the 7viddow.'] Nay, I can be mad, fweet heart, [88] when I pleafe, flill; neuer feare me: And carefull JVumfs, where's he ? I thanke him for my licence. Was. How! [Wafpe mijfeth the Licence. 35 Q"^^- Tis true, Numps. Was. I'll be hang'd then. Bartholmevv Fayre. ^33 QvA. Loke i'your boxe, Numps, nay, Sir, (land not you fixt here, like a flake in Finsbury to be fliot at, or the whipping pofl i'the Fayre, but get your wife out o'the ayre, it wil make her worfe elfe; and remember you are but Adam, Flefh, and blood! you haue your fraility, forget 5 your other name of Ouerdoo, and inuite vs all to fupper. There you and I Avill compare our difcoueries\ and drowne the memory o^ all enormity in your bigg'fl bowle at home. CoK. How now, Numps, ha'you lofl it ? I warrant, 'twas when thou wert i'the flocks: why dofl not fpeake ? lo Was. I will neuer fpeak while I Hue, againe, for ought I know. Ivs. Nay, Humphrey, if I be patient, you mufl be fo too; this pleafant conceited Gentleman hath wrought vpon my iudgement, and preuail'd: I pray you take care of your ^5 ficke friend, Miflreffe Alice, and my good friends all — QvA. And no enormities. Ivs. I inuite you home, with mee to my houfe, to fup- per: I will haue none feare to go along, for my intents are Ad corre^lionem, non ad dejlru^ionem'. Ad (Bdificandufu, 20 non ad diruendum: fo lead on. CoK. Yes, and bring the A^ors along, wee'll ha'the refl o'the Play at home. The end. 134 Bartholmevv Fayre, Y The Epilogve. Our Maiefly hath feene the Play, and you can bejl allow it fro?n your eare, and view. You know the f cope of Writers, and what Jiore, of leaue is giuen them, if they take not tnore, And turne it into licence : you can tell if we haue vs'd that leaue you gaue vs, well: Or whether wee to rage, or licence breake, or be prophane, or make prophane ?nen fpeake ? This is your power to iudge [great Sir) and not the enuy of a few. Which if wee haue got., Wee value leffe what their diflike can bring., if it fo happy be., f haue pleas' d the King. Notes 135 NOTES References to Bartholomew Fair read page, line, of the text pre- ceding; to other plays of Jonson, act, scene, Gifford's text. In citing the works of Jonson and Shakespeare, the author's name has been commonly omitted. Notes from Whalley are marked W.; from Gifford, G.; from Cunningham, Cun.; other abbreviations will be understood by referring to the Bibliography. TITLE-PAGE. Bartholmew. With one exception (11. 4), the uniform spelling throughout the play, indicating the pronuncia- tion. In Shakespeare, first folio, T. of Shrew, Induct, i. 105, 2 Hen. IV, 2. 4. 250, it is similarly spelled; however, in Hen. V, 5. 2. 336, Bartholomexv. Lady Elizabeths Servants, Elizabeth (1596-1662) was the eldest daughter of James I. When but little more than a child, she was celebrated for her beauty, and became very popular. There existed three successive companies of this name, the second and third being formed by the uniting of a rival company with the first. They were organized by Henslowe at the following dates: l) August, 1611; 2) March, 1613; 3) April, 1614. For the names of the actors, see Fleay's Hist, of the Stage, 186-188. 'On the accession of James all the men's companies were taken under the patronage of the Royal Family. . . . The two children's companies were soon finally suppressed and replaced by players patronized by the Duke of York and the Lady Elizabeth.' — Fleay, Hist, of Stage, 165. Beniamin Johnson. Wheatley says that the poet invariably signed his name Jonson, but others usually wrote it Johnson. In the 1631-41 folio, the title-pages of The Staple of Nezvs and The Devil is an Ass have it without h; in twelve other places where the name occurs, h is inserted. In the 1616 fqlio, which was much more carefully printed, it is spelled lonson, so also in the 1612 quarto of The Alchemist. The quotation from Horace is 11. 194-200 of the Epistle desig- nated, with the following differences : 11. 195-6 have been omitted as irrelevant; seu, changed to nam; asello, misspelled assello. I. B, 'In an undated and hitherto misunderstood letter to the Earl of Newcastle, Harl. MS. 4955, he [Jonson] says (I have cor- rected the punctuation), "It is the lewd printer's [J. Benson's] 136 Bartholomew Fair fault that I can send your lordship no more of my book. I sent you one piece before, The Fair [Bartholomew Fair] ; and now I send you this other morsel, The fine gentleman that walks the town, The Fiend [The Devil is an Ass] ; but before he will perfect the rest I fear he will come himself to be a part under the title of The Absolute Knave, which he hath played with me." The only other play which Benson printed for Jonson was The Staple of News, and this letter must lie between his printing that and the preceding one. The Devil's an Ass.' — Fleay, Chron. Eng. Drama, i. 354. Robert Allot. During this same year (1631) he also published The Devil is an Ass and The Staple of News; the following year, the 'Second Impression' of Shakespeare's Works. See Hazlitt's Handbook for the names of nearly forty books published by him between 1626 and 1635. Attempts have been made to identify him with the author of England's Parnassus, but of the latter person little is known, and the general opinion is against this identification. at the signe of the Beare, in Pauls Church-yard. Before the Great Fire, 1666, St. Paul's Church-yard was chiefly occupied by stationers, who were known by their signs (cf. note on signs, 22. 31). PROLOGUE. Bartholomezv Fair was performed at court before King James, November i, 1614, the day following its first production at the Hope. your lands Faction. The Puritans, whom James had found annoying and troublesome enough (as is suggested in 11. 6, 7), when he opposed them in matters of conscience. scandaliz'd at toyes, As Babies. Not until three quarters of a century later, did the Bartholomew babies become known as dolls (corrupted from Dorothy). The name is of especial interest, if, as Morley states, it was Bartholomew Fair that gave it : 'Bartholomew babies were illustrious ; but their name, as the license of the Fair increased, was of equivocal suggestion. Therefore, when some popular toyman, who might have called his babies pretty Sues, or Molls, or Polls, cried diligently to the ladies who sought fairings for their children, "Buy a pretty Doll" (it was at a time, too, when the toy babies were coming more and more into demand), the conquest of a clumsiness was recognized.' — Morley, Mem. 334. iust complaint. Precise charge or accusation. Fayring. A present from a fair. At first it was usually a relic or image of a saint (thus the ancestor of the gingerbread figures). PERSONS OF THE PLAY. Following his custom, Jonson gives to his people names suggested by a 'humor' or some predominant characteristic. The appropriateness in most cases will be readily Notes 137 seen. Quarlotis very likely is a contraction of quarrelous — quarrel used in its old legal sense of a 'charge or accusation, ground for a suit,' its applicability resting in the fact that Quarlous had been earlier a law student at the Inns of Court. Why Alice is the name given to the Mistresse o'the Game, I do not know. Ursula was a common name for a kitchen-woman — see note on 34. 14. a Banbury man. Cf. note on 14. 24. Knock-hvm. A Horse-courser. A horse-courser bought and sold horses already in use ; to be distinguished from the horse-dealer, who traded in horses of his own rearing and training. ranger. 'A sworn officer of a forest, appointed by the king's letters patent, whose business it was to walk through the forest, watch the deer, prevent trespasses, etc' — C. D. The term is used figuratively and goes well with Mistresse o'the Game (three lines later). Cf. Dekker's 2 Honest JVhore, 3. i. Inf. My lord turned ranger now? Orl. You're a good huntress, lady; you ha' found your game already: your lord would fain be a ranger, but my mistress requests you to let him run a course in your own park. Hunting terms were commonly employed by the gallants and rogues for their dark doings. Turnbull. Properly, Tummill. The latter name is used by Stow, and is the one by which it is known to-day. It is a short street in Clerkenwell, between Clerkenwell Green and Cow Cross. It was long a noted haunt for harlots and disorderly people. Cf. Beaumont and Fletcher's Scornful Lady, 3. 2 : Here has been such a hurry, such a din. Such dismal drinking, swearing, and whoring, 'T has almost made me mad: We have all liv'd in a continuall Turnball-street. Also 2 Hen. IV, 3. 2. 326. INDUCTION. 5. I £E. The personal and confidential tone assumed by the Stage- keeper in addressing the audience, shows unmistakably the influence of Plautus' prologues (cf. the prologues of the Captivi and Poenulus). 5. 2 e'en vpon comming. Upon, used adverbially to express progress and approach in time. Cf. Meas. for Meas. 4. 6. 14: ' . . . and very near upon the duke is entering.' 5. 3 Proctor. The English form of the Latin procurator, denotes a person who acts for another, and so approaches very nearly in 138 Bartholomew Fair meaning to agent. In a sense now only of historical interest, the word denoted a practitioner in the ecclesiastical and admiralty courts ; the proctor was a qualified person licensed by the archbishop of Canterbury to undertake duties performed in other courts by solicitors. — Encyc. Britan. 5. 5 He playes one o'the Arches. A proctor of the Court of Arches, held in Bow Church. Cf. 11. 17 and note, also Pepys' Diary, Feb. 4, 1662-3. 5. 9 Master Broome. Richard Brome, the dramatist, who died about 1652. He was of humble origin, and at this time was in the service of Jonson. Cf. Jonson's lines on Brome's Northern Lass (1632) : I had you for a servant once, Dick Brome, And you performed a sei-vant's faithful parts; Now you are got into a nearer room Of fellowship, professing my old arts. And you do do them well, with good applause. Which you have justly gained from the stage. By observation of those comic laws Which I, your master, first did teach the age. Underwoods, 28. 5. 13 humors. Mood natural to one's temperament, peculiar characteristics. Cf. Ev. Man Out, Induct. ; Mer. Wives, i. i. 3, etc. ; Hen. V, 2. I ; also Nares' Glossary. 5. 14 Bartholmew-birds, Familiar characters, flitting about and generally haunting the Fair. Judging from Ursula, Knockem, Whit, Edgworth, and others, we should think that the Poet's acquaintance with them was amply sufficient for any but the most whimsical of stage-keepers. Cf. 97. 13. 5, 15 ne're a Sword, and Buckler man in his Fayre. Popular combats with the sword and buckler date back to the Middle Ages and even to the Saxon gleemen. Fuller says in 1662 : 'West Smithfield was formerly called Ruffian Hall, where such men usually met, casually or otherwise, to try masteries with sword and buckler; more were frightened than hurt, hurt than killed therewith, it being accounted unmanly to strike beneath the knee. But since that desperate traytor Rowland Yorke first used thrusting rapiers, swords and bucklers are disused' (cited by Strutt, Sports, 261). The change to the rapiers just mentioned, occurred about the last of the sixteenth century. 5. 16 little Dauy. Cf. Tarlton's Jests, 161 1 (reprinted in Shakes- peare's Jest-Books) : How Tarlton fought with Black Davie. Not long since lived a little swaggerer, called Blacke Davie, who would at sword and buckler fight with any gentleman or other for twelve pence. He Notes 139 being hired to draw upon Tarlton for breaking a jest upon huffing Kate, a punke, as men termed her, one evening, Tarlton comming forth at the Court gate, being at Whitehall, and walking toward the Tilt yard, this Davie drew upon Tarlton who on the sudden, though amazed, drew likewise, and enquired the cause; which Davie denied, till they had fought a bout or two. W. C. Hazlitt describes Black Davie as 'A bully who probably attached himself to houses of ill-repute and took part with the inmates against visitors.' 5. 17 Kind-heart. An itinerant tooth-drawer frequently alluded to by contemporary writers. He is the one who delivers the invec- tives in Henry Chettle's Kind Hart's Dreame, 1592 (reprinted in Percy Soc. Early Eng. Poetry). Cf. Rowland, The Letting of Humours Blood in the Head Vaine: Not as kind-heart, in drawing out a tooth; For he doth ease the patient of his pain. Thornbury (i. 161-2"), describing his quackery, calls him 'the greatest cheat in Christendome.' Cf. Pan's Anniversary : 'A tooth- drawer is our foreman, that if there be but a bitter tooth in the company, it may be called out at a twitch : he doth command any man's teeth out of his head upon the point of his poignard; or tickles them forth with his riding rod : he draws teeth a horseback in full speed, yet he will dance a foot, he hath given his word : he is yeoman of the mouth to the whole brotherhood, and is charged to see their gums be clean and their breath sweet, at a minute's warning.' 5. 18 lugler with a wel-educated Ape. The performances of trained animals were ever popular at the Fair. The actions of the ape as described, showed the feeling against Spain and the Catholic religion, intensified by James' well known project for an alliance with Spain. When Prince Henry died in 1612, James saw his project thwarted; but he considered the same match for Charles as early as 1614 (cf. Gardiner's Hist, of Eng. 488). Bartholomew Fair, with its freedom and natural spontaneous humor, was an excellent mirror of the popular sentiment of the day. (For repro- duction of an old cut of a juggler and tumbling ape, see Strutt, 241.) Cf. Donne, Sat. i : But to a graue man hee doth moue no more Then the wise politique horse would heretofore, Or thou, O Elephant, or Ape, wilt doe. When any names the k[ing] of Spaine to you. 5. 24 and. A conditional conjunction meaning 'if; usually written an by later writers. This second form is found as early as 140 Bartholomew Fair 1600, but it is and or an' that is uniformly employed in the first print of Bartholomew Fair. 5. 24- 6. 2 'The earthquake . . . i'the Fayre, made by some writer that I know, alludes, I think, to The Faithful Friends V, i (by Daborne? who retired in 1614), "if we must down, let us make an earthquake tumbling." ' — Fleay, Chron. Eng. Drama, i. syy. 6. 4 kick'd me three, or foure times about the Tyring-house. Cf. 113. 9, where Lantern says our Tiring-house is somewhat little, . . . you cannot goe vpright in 't; very likely these allusions were satirical, referring to the insufficient accommodations of the dressing- room. 6. II Innes o'Court. The well known colleges for the study of law; the Temple (Inner and Middle), Lincoln's Inn, and Gray's Inn. They received the name. Inns of Court, in the reign of Edward II, because their inhabitants belonged to the King's Court (Bray- ley, Londiniana). An excellent illustration of the character of the witty young masters is to be found in one of their number, con- spicuous in our play, Quarlous (cf. 73. 24). They were prominent at times among the gallants who sat on the stage and occasionally interrupted the play. Sir John Davies in an epigram on the theatre speaks of 'the clamorous fry of Inns of Court' (cited by Traill, 3. 569). Fleay (Chron. Eng. Drama, i. 377), sees a direct allusion in the Pumpe and wity young masters o'the Innes o'Court to the 'stately fountain' in the Gray's Inn Mask of Flowers, 1614, Jan. 6. 6. 13 Richard Tarlton was a comic actor of enormous popularity during the reign of Elizabeth (he died 1588). In 1583, on the institution of the Queen's Players, he was one of the twelve chosen to form the company, and remained one of the Queen's actor- servants till his death. He had a remarkable power of extempore wit, and is said to have started the people laughing when he 'first peept out his head'. He was also credited with the ability to divert Queen Elizabeth when her mood was least amiable. It has been conjectured with great likelihood that in Hamlet's elegy on Yorick, Shakespeare was paying a tribute to his memory. His fame was of long duration; Gifford says that it retained its power among the vulgar until the Revolution. — D. N. B. 6. 16. coozened i'the Cloath-quarter. Probably an allusion to Tarlton's jest, 'How fiddlers fiddled away Tarlton's apparel', the substance of which is as follows : Some London musicians, in return for his benefactions and friendship, gave him a morning serenade at the Saba tavern, where he was staying. He at once arose and recognized the attention by drinking muscadine with them. A cony-catcher who had seen Tarlton pass out in his night- Notes 141 gown made oflf with his apparel. The news of this spread, and the next day, when Tarlton was playing at the Curtain, some one threw him a theme, consisting of five lines in doggerel alluding to his loss, to which Tarlton at once replied in kind. From early times the Fair had been divided virtually into two parts, that within and that without the Priory. The cattle-market, shows, and amusements (the scene of our play) occupied most of the space outside, while the more orderly Cloth Fair was within. For two centuries preceding, and virtually as long as there was need of such an institution, Bartholomew Fair was the great cloth fair of England. And during that period when cloth ranked first among the products of the nation's industry, the Fair had a most important influence on the history of English commerce. As early as Elizabeth's reign, however, its greatness as a cloth fair had begun to decline. To show the immense business that could be transacted during the few days of a fair, I cite Defoe's description of Stour- bridge Fair, a century later {Tour thro' the Island of Great Britain, I. 93-94, 2d ed.) : Tn this Duddery, as I have been inform' d, there have been sold One Hundred Thousand Poundsworth of Woolen Manufactures in less than a Week's time; besides the prodigious Trade carry'd on here by Wholesale-Men from London, and all Parts of England, who transact their Business wholly in their Pocket-Books, and meeting their Chapmen from all Parts, make up their Accounts, receive Money chiefly in Bills, and take Orders : These, they say, exceed by far the Sales of Goods actually brought to the Fair, and deliver'd in Kind ; it being frequent for the London Wholesale Men to carry back Orders from their Dealers for ten Thousand Pounds-worth of Goods a Man, and some much more.' 6. 17 Adams, the Rogue. An actor with Tarlton, according to Fleay {Chron. Eng. Drama, i. ::i77). 6. 18 dealt his vermine about. In the rough sport, the fieas which often infested the huge, padded trunk hose would be dis- turbed and scattered. 6. 20 a substantial! watch to ha' stolne in vpon 'hem, etc. Whalley regards this as a certain sneer at Shakespeare, a satire on Much Ado, 4. 2. Dogberry's words, 'But, masters remember that I am an ass', are somewhat similar to the stage-keeper's seven lines above ; and the blundering watch taking away Conrade and Borachio is paralleled here. The watch, however, had become almost a by-word for pompous stupidity, so common were their mistakes. It was a subject for ridicule in other plays besides Shakespeare's (of. Ordish, Shak. London, 190). Thus the allusion to Shakes- peare's play, which Gifford will not admit to be such, at least is not sharply defined. As GiflFord has observed, the 'sneer' is not very 142 Bartholomew Fair effective in the mouth of an absurd coxcomb who is immediately driven from the stage. 6. 26 the vnderstanding Gentlemen o'the ground. The ground was the pit, somewhat lower than the stage, usually without seats so that the people stood to behold the play (Collier, Hist. Dram. Poetry, 3. 335). It was the cheapest place of admission, and was frequented by apprentices, servants, etc. Hence it became the com- mon theme for punning allusions. Only a few lines later (7. 24) we have the grounded Judgements and vnderstandings. Cf. Hamlet, 3. 2. 9; also Underwoods, 22. 6. 29 broken Apples for the beares within. Apples were commonly sold at the theatres by 'costardmongers', and this passage indicates that the refuse was given to the beares within (the animals kept for the bear-baiting exhibits, for which, when remodelling the Hope, the stage had been made in a frame sup- ported by trestles, so as to be easily removed). 7. I such a youth as you. If he had kept the stage in Tarl ton's time (it was twenty-six years since the comedian's death), he must have been fairly advanced in years at this time. Thus a playful touch was intended in calling him youth. 7. 13 the Hope. A bear-garden occupied the site many years before and after the theatre, hence the present Bear Gardens (a short street starting from the Bankside just above South wark Bridge). In August, 1613, the Bear-garden was torn down and the Hope Theatre was erected, 'convenient in all things both for players to play in, and for the game of bears and bulls to be baited in the same'; in size and general plan it was similar to the Swan Theatre. The Globe had been destroyed by fire shortly before, and an attempt was made to secure its patronage before it could be rebuilt. Unsuccessful in this, after about two years the Hope again became a bear-garden. For a small picture of the theatre, reproduced from Visscher's View of London, 1616, see Ordish, Early London Theatres, 126. An excellent idea of its general fea- tures may be gained from the contract for its construction between Philip Henslowe and Jacob Maide, and Gilbert Katherens, cited in Boswell's Malone's Shakespeare, 3. 343-347, ed. 1821. Bankeside. Still known by this name. This was the old haunt of vice. In its vicinity the Stews had flourished, and here, in Jonson's time, were located most of the theatres (Globe, Hope, Rose, and Swan). See the Plans of Southwark and the Bankside in Harrison's Descript. of Eng. 2. 66. 7. 16 the one and thirtieth day of Octob. 1614. This fixes with certainty the time of the first performance of Bartholomew Fair. A few local allusions later in the play indicate that the time of Notes 143 writing preceded production only by a short interval (cf. note on 31. 24). 7. 22 Spectators. Jonson commonly showed little respect or tolerance for the spectators, meaning those who were always looking about and chiefly interested in the dress of the actors and audience. Cf. Staple of News, Prologue : 'Would you were come to hear, not see a play.' Also, the Prologue for the Court of the same play : . . . the vulgar sort Of nut-crackers, that only come for sight. The spectators are here classed with the curious, in contrast with the hearers and iiidicious. 8. I and to offend none. There were those who went to the theatre, notebook in hand, ready to catch the slightest allusion that might have a personal or political significance. 8. 3-4 Cf. Dekker's The Gul's Horn-Booke: 'And that your Car-man and Tinker claime as strong a voice in their suffrage, and sit to giue iudgement on the plaies life and death, as well as the prowdest Momus among the tribe [s] of Critick.' euery person here, haue his or their free-will of censure. On the peculiar use of pronouns, see Abbott, p. 24. 8. 6 six pen'orth, etc. These prices are higher than those charged by most of the theatres of the time. A partial explanation is that it was a 'first night', when according to Kiechel (see below) the prices were double. Traill says (3. 569) : 'In Elizabeth's reign prices varied from a penny to a shilling; in the next reign they rose. Twopenny rooms or boxes and the twopenny gallery are often mentioned, but sixpence seems to have been the most usual fee. The St. Paul's private theatre had no seats at less than four- pence.' In Rye's England, 88, we have Samuel Kiechel's observa- tion, 1585 : 'It may indeed happen . . . that the players take from fifty to sixty dollars [fio to £12] at a time, particularly if they act any thing new, when people have to pay double. And . . . they perform nearly every day in the week ; notwithstanding plays are forbidden on Friday and Saturday, this prohibition is not observed.' Cf. Marston, Malcontent, Induct. : Sly. 'But I say, any man that hath wit may censure, if he sit in the twelve- penny room; and I say again, the play is bitter.' Also Dekker, The Gul's Horn-Booke, Works, 2. 247: 'When your Groundling and gallefy Commoner buyes his sport by the penny.' 8. 9 his place get not aboue his wit. The whole Induction is a good-humored satire on the ignorance and poor taste of the audience, the especial cause being the lack of appreciation shown Catiline. It is probable that Ben would have rated the wit of most of his audience hardly as high as sixpence, had he published his estimates. 144 Bartholomew Fair 8. 12 as they doe for lots at the lottery. Besides the private lotteries, not infrequent at this time, there were a few much larger and public. 'The King's maiestie in speciall favor for the pres- ent plantation of English Colonies in Virginia, granted a liberall Lottery, in which was contained five thousand pound in prizes certayne, besides rewards of casualitie, and began to be drawne, in a new built house at the West end of Paul's the 29th of June, 1612. . . . This Lottery was so plainely carryed, and honestly performed, that it gave full satisfaction to all persons.' — Cited by Ashton, History of English Lotteries, 28. Arber's English Garner, i. 77-100, contains an interesting description of a lottery under the following title : 'The Great Frost. Cold doings in London, except it be at the Lottery. With News out of the Country. A familiar talk between a Countryman and a Citizen touching this terrible Frost, and the Great Lottery, and the effects of them.' [1608]. , 8. 25 leronimo. Written about 1585-7; an enlarged edition was published in 1602, the additions (as indicated by entries in Hens- lowe's Diary) being made by Jonson. The popularity of the new form was very marked, and further editions followed rapidly (1603, 161 1, 1615, 1618, 1623, 1633, etc.). For a discussion of Jonson's authorship of the additions, see Boas' Thomas Kyd, Ixxxv-lxxxix. No other play in Jonson's time or in the generation following, received such ample recognition in the way of quotation by other dramatists. Cf. Alchem. 4. 4: Thou must borrow A Spanish suit; hast thou no credit with the players? . . . Hieronimo's old cloak, ruff, and hat will serve. (Jonson here may have had in mind the costume which he himself had worn ; for according to Dekker [v. Satiro-mastix] he had once played the part of Hieronimo.) See also, for allusion or quota- tion, Ev. Man In, i. 4; Cynthia's Revels, Induct.; Poetaster, 3. i; Alchem. 3. 2; New Inn, 2. 2; Tale of a Tub, 3. 4; K. John, 2. i; 3 Hen. VI, 5. 6; T. of Shrezv, Induct, i. Andronicus. Cf. Henslowe's Diary, 2,Z '■ 1593-4- 'Rd at titus and ondronicus, the 23 of Jenewary iii^ viii^'. Collier says this entry is marked ne, a sign used by Henslowe to distinguish the original production of a play, so this fixes its date. The sum received for admissions is considerably larger than usual, and is an evidence of the popularity of this sanguinary drama. Titus Andronicus was entered in the Stationers' Registers, 1594: printed, 1600. 8. 26 vnexcepted at. This verb occurs nowhere else, so far as I know. However, cf. 'He excepts at Gassendus's animadverting on Aristotle's manners.' — Glanvill, 1665 (cited by N. E. D.). 9. 9 in as good Equipage. Dress, 'get up'. Notes 145 9. 12-15 meditant, searchant, etc., are formed in imitation of the heraldic terms in -ant. 9. 15 a Seruant-monster, etc. 'Our author, and who can help it, is still venting his sneers at Shakespeare. The servant-monster is the character of Caliban in the Tempest: the nest of antiques is the clowns who dance in the Winter's Tale ; and, lest he should be thought not to speak plainly enough, he expressly mentions those plays in the next sentence.' — W. On the other hand, Gifford as usual champions Jonson's cause, and in a long note contends that no such allusion is evident, arguing that drolleries was a term commonly applied to puppet-shows, and that the Tales and Tempests that make nature afraid were no other than puppet-plays that had been given at the Fair, such as The Creation of the World, The Destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, The Story of Jonas and the Whale; that the nest of antiques was accordingly characters or beasts of the puppet-plays ; and that as this was a time when monsters, which were extremely popular, were commonly exhibited near the puppet-plays at the Fair, the servant-monster would refer not necessarily to Caliban. Whether there is allusion to Shakes- peare's plays or not — and though Malone, Steevens, and Coleridge take nearly the same ground as Whalley, everything in the context is so directly connected with the Fair that I find myself inclined to Gifford's position — it is altogether too good-natured to be classed among 'the base and silly sneers at Shakespeare,' as Coleridge char- acterizes them (Literary Remains, 2. 283). Even Whalley in a later portion of the note whch I have partially cited, admits that the satire was designed 'not so much to ridicule Shakespeare for his invention, as the passion of the mob for spectacle of this kind.' 9. 31 Mirror of Magistrates. The Mirror for Magistrates, a large work, consisting of poems on 'The Falles of Vnfortvnate Princes'. It was begun by William Baldwin [not R. Baldwine, as Gifford, citing Whalley, says], who published the first four poems m 1559. The greater part of the work is by John Higgins, who published his contributions in 1587. It was republished by Richard Niccols in 1610. This title with variations was used repeatedly by writers of the time ; e. g. The Mirror for Mutability, Mirror of Mirth, A Mirror for Magistrates of Cities, Mirror for Mathematics, Mirror of Monsters, etc. 10. 6-9 to challenge the Author ... of prophanenesse. Cf. Statutes of the Realm: 1605-6. 5° Jac. I. c. 21, 22: 'For the preventing and avoyding of the greate Abuse of the Holy Name of God in Stageplayes Interludes Maygames Shewes and such like; Be it enacted by our Soveraigne Lorde the Kings Majesty, and by the Lordes Spirituall and Temporall, and Commons in this present Parliament assembled, . . . any person or persons doe or shall 146 Bartholomew Fair in any stage play . . . jestingly or prophanely speake or use the holy Name of God or of Christ Jesus, or of the Holy Ghoste or of the Trinitie, which are not to be spoken but with feare and reverence, shall forfeite for everie such Offence by hym or them committed Tenne Pounde, the one Moytie thereof to the Kings Majestic his Heires and Successors, the other Moytie thereof to hym or them that will sue for the same in any Courte of Recorde at Westminster, wherein no Essoigne Proteccion or Wager of Lawe shalbe allowed.' Profanity was extremely common. Stubbes says : 'It is vsed and taken there for a vertue. So that he that can lashe out the bloudiest othes, is coumpted the bravest fellowe: For (saie thei) it is a signe of a coragious harte, or a valiaunt stomacke, & of a generoseous, heroicall, and puissant mynde. . . . By continuall vse whereof, it is growne to this perfection, that at euery other worde, you shal heare either woundes, bloud, sides, harte, nailes, foote, or some other parte of Christes blessed bodie, yea, sometymes no parte thereof shalbe left vntorne of these bloudie Villaines' (Anat. of Abuses. 132-3). ID. 16 as durty as Smithfield, and as stinking euery whit. It is not strange that at a time when small attention was given to tjtie cleanliness of private houses, a public theatre where also bear- baitings frequently took place should have been dirty and ill-smelling. Of the filth of Smithfield Morley says : 'Rain, and the cattle brought thither for sale, had made the place almost impassible.' 'Bartholo- mew Fair in a wet August before the year 1614 must have been a slough of pleasure, difficult indeed to struggle through.' It was paved 1614-15 by the order of the king at an expense of £1600. ID. 20-22 This is a reference to the 'Commodity' swindle, com- mon at this time, and the subject of many allusions in contemporary literature. It was practiced upon young gallants in need of ready money. Greene in his Defence of Cony-Catching {Works, 11. 53) tells of a man who in borrowing £100, could obtain only £40 in silver, and had to take the other £60 in 'wares, dead stuffe God wot; as Lute strings. Hobby-horses,' etc. In Middleton's Michael- mas Term there is a fine example of the trick. Easy cannot borrow- any ready money from Quomodo, but secures on his bond the loan of £200 in very cheap woolens, which Quomodo buys back through his secret agent for £60. We can well imagine that those of Jonson's audience who had invested in £60 worth of hobby-horses would not be particularly interested in seeing them on the stage. Wheatley in his Every Man in his Humour, 119, cites the following from E. Guilpin (1598) : He is a gull, that for co7>nnoditie Pays tenne times ten, and sells the same for three. Notes 147 ACT I. II. 4 Harrow o'th hill. Ten miles northwest of London, and occupying the only hill in that region ; known for its famous school. II. 12 One o'the pretty wits o'Pauls. The middle aisle of St. Paul's, commonly called 'Duke Humphrey's Walk' or 'Paul's Walk', was the common news-room of London ; here lawyers received their clients, the unemployed looked about for masters, accounts were settled, and the gallants passed many idle hours. The wits and poets gave it various names: 'Thieves' Sanctuary', 'Little Britain', 'World's Epitome', 'Babel of stones and men', 'Synod of politic pates', 'Busy parliament', 'Mint of lies', etc. (cf. Thornbury, i. 114). A. 3, Sc. I of Every Man Out of his Humor is laid at the 'Middle Aisle of St. Paul's'; so also is Middleton's Michaelmas Term, i. i. II. 17 out o'the Archdeacons Court, etc. Probably another allusion to the Court of Arches, where Littlewit was a proctor. This was the Archbishop's court, but archdeacons may have pre- sided when petty matters were considered. Strype, i. 513, gives the following description of this Court (cited by Wh. Cun. i. 508) : 'It was a court formerly kept in Bow Church in Cheapside, and the church and tower thereof being arched, the court was from hence called the Arches, and so still is called. Hither are all appeals directed in ecclesiastical matters within the province of Canter- bury. To this court belongs a judge, who is styled the Dean of the Arches; so called because he hath a jurisdiction over a deanery in London, consisting of thirteen parishes [formerly], exempt from the jurisdiction of the Bishop of London.' 11. 18 lack. A common name for a serving-man or scullion. 12. 4 Budge-row. 'A street so called of the Budge fur, and of skinners dwelling there.' — Stow. It is the east end of Watling Street. 12. 6 like the Spanish Lady. The English in their excessive fondness for dress borrowed styles from France, Spain, and many other countries. Allusions to Spanish shoes are not infrequent at this time, especially referring to the leather; the best was cordovan, from Cordova. The shoes worn in James' reign, as described and illustrated by Planche, are for the most part very low, hardly more than slippers. I know of nothing very definite regarding the Spanish lady and her high shoes. 12. 15 A poxe o'these pretenders, to wit. The pretenders were Jonson and his circle, Shakespeare, Beaumont, Fletcher, etc., who frequented these taverns, especially the Mermaid. The Three Cranes was situated on Upper Thames Street at the top of what is still known as Three Cranes Lane, just below Southwark Bridge. 148 Bartholomezv Fair This tavern was much frequented by the booksellers. The Mitre is mentioned in some of the early vestry books, as on Cheapside, and also as on Bread Street ; probably it was situated back from the main thoroughfare, approached by passages from both of the streets mentioned. The Mermaid was situated on Bread Street, Cheapside. Cf. Epigram 133: At Bread-street's Mermaid having dined, and merry, Proposed to go to Holborn in a wherry. Inviting a Friend to Supper: A pure cup of rich Canary wine, Which is the Mermaid's now, but shall be mine. Also Beaumont's well-known lines in his Letter to Ben Jonson. A. 5, sc. 4 of Every Man Out of his Humor is laid at the Mitre; cf. Middleton's Your Five Gallants, 2. i : Where sup we, gallants? ... Why, the Mitre, in my mind, for neat attendance, diligent boys, and — push! excels it far. 13. I I challenge all Cheapside, to shew such another. Long before this as well as after, Cheapside was famed for its silk-mer- cers, linen-drapers and hosiers. Morefields, A fen outside of the city walls, to the north. It had been drained nearly a century previous, but was not laid out in walks until 1606. A vestige of the name still survives in Finsbury (or Fensbui-y) Square and Finsbury Circus. 13. 2 Pimlico path. A popular resort during the summer months near Hoxton. the Exchange. This was the first Royal Exchange built 1566- 1570, and destroyed in the Great Fire of 1666. 13. 9-1 1 Winwife's figurative description of Littlewit's delicates, suggests a London quite different from that of to-day. Then, it was but a short walk beyond the north wall to the uncleared forests, where Ursula probably got the green boughs to trim her booth, and there were gardens even in the center of the city. Cf. Richard III, 3- 4- 34: When I was last in Holborn, I saw good strawberries in your garden there: I do beseech you send»for some of them. 13. 20 a fine young father i'law, with a f ether. Many of the hats worn at this time were exceedingly plain, absolutely without ornament. But Dekker in his //orw-5oo^^ (1609) observes: 'When your noblest Gallants consecrate their houres to their Mistresses and to Reuelling, they weare fethers then chiefly in their hattes, being Notes 149 one of the fairest ensignes of their brauery.' Cf. Middleton's Roar- ing Girl, 2. I : What feather is't you'd have, sir? These are most worn and most in fashion: Amongst the beaver gallants, the stone riders. The private stage's audience, the twelve-penny-stool gentlemen, I can inform you 'tis the general feather. Cokes after his many humiliations at the Fair still finds pride in recalling that at least at the beginning of the day he wore a feather (ii3- 13)- 13. 21 might hood it, and chaine it. An unusual expression, the force of which rests on the rank and dignity earlier signified by the wearing of a hood and of a chain. Those privileged to wear a gold chain a century before had been designated by law (v. Statutes of the Realm, 7° Henry VIII. c. 6). Dame Purecraft, if married to Winwife, a gentleman, would acquire rank that would permit her to make a display and assume airs of importance such as Mrs. Overdo, a justice's wife, affected. Cf. note on 23. 20. 13. 27 winke vpon. Cf. T. G. of Ver. 2. 4. 98 : 'Upon a homely object Love can wink.' Our idiom to 'wink to' or 'at', however, was also used at this time. 13. 28 one (Master Quarlous). A certain Master Quarlous. The punctuation is improved by omitting the parenthesis, and plac- ing a comma after Quarlous. 13. 30 tokenworth. See note on token, 39. 15. 14. 5 natiuity-water cast lately by the Cunning men. Lilly in his History of his Life and Times tells how people of high rank sent urine to him ; for by this means, it was commonly believed, the future could be foretold and secrets revealed. Cf. Butler's Hudibras, 2. 3. 105: Quoth Ralph, Not far from hence doth dwell A cunning man, hight Sidrophel, That deals in destiny's dark counsels. . . . To him with questions, and with urine. They for discov'ry flock, or curing. Subtle in the Alchemist was a cunning man, though of another type. Drummond gives further testimony in the Conversations of Jonson's knowledge of these gifted men and their art : 'He can set horo- scopes, but trusts not in them. He with the consent of a friend cousened a lady, with whom he had made ane apointment to meet ane old Astrologer, in the suburbs, which she keeped; and it was himself disguysed in a longe gowne and a whyte beard at the light of dimm burning candles, up in a little cabinet reached unto by a ledder.' 150 Bartholomew ■ Fair 14. 6 Cow-lane. Now King Street, running from Smithfield to Snow Hill. 14. 9 and when it is. Is, equivalent to 'happens' or 'comes to pass'. Cf. Mer. of Venice, 5. 176 : 'An 'twere to me, I should be mad at it.' 14. 13 Bedlem. 'Then an hospital of St. Mary of Bethelem, founded by Simon Fitz Mary, one of the sheriffs of London, in the year 1246. ... In this place people that be distraight in wits are, by the suit of their friends, received and kept as afore, but not without charges to their bringers in.' — Stow, Survey of London, 62. The site of the original hospital is on Liverpool Street, near Bishopgate, within. In 1815 the present Bethlehem Hospital was completed, which is located on Lambeth Road, St. George's Fields. The name popularly is still Bedlam. By the beginning of the 17th century, Bethlehem Hospital had become one of the sights of Lon- don ; thus in Epicoene, 4. 2, Lady Haughty advises the young bride to tame her husband by making him attend her to the sights of London : 'And go with us to Bedlam, to the china-houses, and to the Exchange.' 14. 16 confederacy. Conspiracy. 'The trick was well under- stood at this period, and still better in that which immediately fol- lowed. Foreman, and most of the cheats celebrated by that prince of imposters, Lilly, seem to have derived their chief support from it.'— G. 14. 17 practice vpon her. Trickery against her. 14. 23 Elder. Busy seems to have been one of the lay clergy who, without any training or authorization, began to preach as impulse moved them, relying on voluntary contributions for their support. 14. 24 Banbury. For more than a quarter of a century previous, Banbury had been a stronghold of Puritans. Thomas Brasbridge ceased to be its vicar in 1590, because he objected to the monarch's ecclesiastical usurpation. In 1602 the citizens in their zeal destroyed the public cross and defaced the ornaments of the cathedral. Wil- liam Whately, vicar of Banbury, 1610-1640, was called the 'Roaring Boy of Banbury'; his disciple and biographer Scudder says of him : 'According as his matter in hand and his auditory needed, he was both a terrible Boanerges, a son of thunder, and also a Barna- bas, a son of sweet consolation.' — (Cited by Morley, Mem. 180). Fuller seems to have identified him with Rabbi Busy: 'Indeed he was a good linguist, philosopher, mathematician, divine; and (though a poetical, satirical pen is pleased to pass a jeer upon him) free from faction.' — (Cited by Morley, Mem. 181). Notes 151 To Banbury came I, O prophane one! There I saw a Puritane one Hanging of his cat on Monday, For killing of a mouse on Sunday. Brathwaite, Drunken Barnaby's Four Journeys (cited in Chambers' Book of Days). 14. 25 that the sweet singers may be restor'd. Since the Con- venticle Act of Elizabeth, 1593, the Puritans had not been allowed to worship independently, and those who had persisted in doing so, were imprisoned, and in certain cases kept in captivity without trial for a long term of years. 14. 27 the spirit is so strong with him. IVith and not 'within' him, since Busy regarded his zeal as a spirit quite outside him, which took possession and directed his speech and actions as in apostolic times. Cf. 127. 17. 14. 29 Aqua coelestis. 'Not, I believe, what Horace calls aqua coelestis, but some kind of strong water ; perhaps aqua vitse or brandy.' — G. 14. 34 He cannot abide my Vocation. This is also the first charge against the actors, brought by Busy in his controversy with the puppets (127. 24). Evidently his favorite point of attack. 14. 36 Beast. Anti-Christ; cf. Rev. 13. 2; 20. 4. 15. 1-2 The proctor's duties were similar to those of a solicitor. Cf. note on 5. 3. 15. 6 ha' you tane soyle, here? To take soil, to run into the water or a wet place, as an animal when pursued ; hence to take refuge or shelter.' — C. D. 15. 9 vngentle manly houres. The gallant usually did not rise till about noon. 15. 10 one of these Rag-rakers. It is interesting to note how old is the custom, common in all our large cities, of rag-pickers' raking over the contents of refuse piles, early in the morning when scarcely any one is stirring. Cf. Alchem. i. i : When you went pinn'd up in the several rags You had raked and pick'd from dunghills, before day. 15. II or some Marrow-bone man at most. Marroiv-bones was often used for 'knees' with a somewhat humorous significance; e. g. Dekker, Works, i. 114. A Marrow-bone man was a praying man ; he rose very early in his zeal to attend to his devotions, perhaps also to escape religious persecution. Cf. The Puritan, 2. 1 : (Lady Plus speaking of her dead husband, who was a Puritan) 'A man that would keep church so duly ; rise early, before his servants, and even for religious haste, go ungartered, unbuttoned, nay (sir reverence) untrussed, to morning prayer.' ^ 152 Bartholomeiv Fair 15. 17 Lime-hounds. Dogs used in hunting the wild boar, so called from being led by a lime or leam. 15. 18 sent. An old and historically more correct spelling of scent. 7)^ being applied to a bawd, if a man. if you vse this. If you make a practice of this. 16. 33 for my respect somewhat. Partly out of respect due to me. 17. I in possibility. A vestige of Quarlous' quondam acquaint- ance with barristers and law books at the Inns of Court. Possi- bility is a legal term, still used of contingent interests. 17. 3 To Totnam to eat creame. Tottenham, for so many years known as a popular pleasure resort, even at this time apparently had something of such a character. 17. 5 drawing after an old reuerend Smocke by the splay- foote. Drawing after is a hunting term applied to a dog's approach- ing the game by the scent. Thus Quarlous says that Winwife is guided in his widow-hunting by the splay-foot (broad flat foot turned outwards) ; i. e. he seeks only the old and ugly. 17. 7 Tripe or Trillibub. The two words are practically identi- cal in meaning, and are used figuratively for any worthless person. 17. 8 nosing it. Another of Quarlous' hunting metaphors. 17. 10 Buffe was leather of a dull, whitish-yellow color (prop- erly of buffalo) generally made from the hide of an ox, used by ser- geants and others for jerkins. Notes 153 Pannyer-alley. 'Leading from Paternostei- row into Newgate street. It took its name from the sign of a pannier anciently at one corner of it, and, in Jonson's days, was chiefly inhabited by tripe-sellers.' — G. 17. 19 according to thy inches. As Whalley observed, this was probably suggested by Juvenal, Sat. i. i. 41 : 'Partes quisque suas ad mensuram inquinis heres.' 17* 23 quartane ague. 'A malarial fever in which the par- oxysms recur on every fourth day.' — 5. D. 17. 24 black laundise. A kind of jaundice where the coloration of the skin is especially dark (known in medicine as the black icterus). 17. 25 Spinner. A spider ; cf. M. N. Dream, 2. 2. 20. 17. 31-34. The saying of grace at meals was a rite the Puritans were very careful to observe. Stubbes says (p. iii) : 'We ought neuer to take morsell of bread, nor sope of drinke, without humble thankes to the Lord for the same.' The Puritans were satirized by other dramatists for long graces ; cf. Middleton, Family of Love, i- 3: 'I do use to say inspired graces, able to starve a wicked man with length' ; also Marston, Sat. 2 : And at the op'ning and at our stomach's close, Says with a turn'd-up eye a solemn grace Of half an hour. 17. 36 painefuU eaters. 'Eaters', 'feeders', and 'cormorants', not uncommonly were used as synonymous with servants. See Epicoene, 3. 2. (Cun. G. 3. 394), Ev. Man Out, 5. i (Cun. G. 2. 159), and notes on both passages. 18. 3 Knoxe. He had been dead forty-two years, but his influ- ence and personality were still strongly felt. 18. 5 hum-ha-hum. In the Alchemist, 3. 2, Subtle similarly alludes to the Puritans' 'long-winded exercises', and to their sucking up their 'ha! and hum! in a tune.' 18. 7 Apostle-spoones. 'They were of a round bowl, with a little head at the end, and twelve in a set ; from whence they had the name of apostle-spoons. There was anciently a certain unguent or electuary which from the number of its ingredients was called apos- tolorum.' — W. 'The spoons had their name from the figure (not merely the head) of an apostle, with which they were generally ornamented. These and caudle cups formed almost the only arti- cles of plate which the middling rank of people possessed in the poet's days ; hence they were esteemed handsome bequests, presents at christenings, etc. The allusions to this custom are endless in our old dramatists.' — G. 154 Bartholomew Fair i8. i8 Master Bartholmew Cokes — his man. Of this use of his the N. E. D. says, 'Chiefly with proper nouns, but also with others. Found already in OE., but most prevalent from c. 1400 to 1750; sometimes identified with the genitive inflexion -es, -is, -ys, esp. in iG-iyth c, when it was chiefly (but not exclusively) used with names ending in -s, or when the inflexional genitive would have been awkward. Archaically retained in Bookkeeping and for some other technical purposes.' In chap. 13 of The English Grammar, Jonson speaks of 'the monstVous syntax of the pronoun his joining with a noun betokening a possessor.' 18. 26 a Baker. It is interesting to note this early allusion to Banbury cakes, which are still popular. Cassell dates their fame from as early as 1608. 18. 29 a scruple hee tooke. He afifected. 18. 31 May-poles. The reason for Busy's objections may be learned from Stubbes' Anatomy of Abuses, 149 : 'But the cheifest jewel they bring home from thence [the woods] is their May-pole, which they bring home with great veneration as thus. They haue twentie or fourtie yoke of Oxen, euery Oxe hauing a sweet nose-gay of flouers placed on the tip of his homes ; and these Oxen drawe home this May-pole (this stinking Ydol, rather) which is couered all ouer with flouers and hearbs, bound round about with strings from the top to the bottome, and sometime painted with variable colours, with two or three hundred men, women and children following it with great deuotion. And thus beeing reared vp, with handercheefs and flags houering on the top, they straw the ground rounde about, binde green boughes about it, set vp sommer haules, bowers, and arbors hard by it. And then fall they to daunce about it, like as the heathen people did at the dedication of the Idols, whereof this is a perfect pattern, or rather the thing it self.' Morrisses. Brand quotes the following description of a Morris- dance contained in a rare old poem, Cobbe's Prophecies, his Signes and Tokens, his Madrigalls, Questions and Answers, 1614: It was my hap of late, by chance, To meet a country Morris-dance, When, cheefest of them all, the Foole Plaied with a ladle and a toole; When every younker skak't his bels, Till sweating feete gave fohing smels: And fine Maide Marian with her smoile Shew'd how a rascall plaid the roile: But when the hobby-horse did wihy, Then all the wenches gave a tihy: But when they gan to skake their boxe, And not a goose could catch a foxe, The piper then put up his pipes. And all the woodcocks look't like snipes. Notes 155 Cf. Chambers, Mediceval Stage, vol. i, chaps. 8, 9; also Brand, Pop. Antiq. For cuts of a morris-dancer and of a May-pole celebration see Stubbes, Anat. of Abuses, 28,* 22* 18. 35 they haue all such names. Cf. Alchem. 3. 2: Nor shall you need to . . . call yourselves By names of Tribulation, Persecution, Restraint, Long-patience, and such like, affected By the whole family or wood of you. Witnesse. Cf. Magnetic Lady, 4. 3 : I come to invite your ladyship To be a witness; I will be your partner, And give it a horn-spoon, and a treen-dish. In the Puritan, i. 3, there is reference to the same scruple in the 'un-godmother'd varlcts.' 18. 37 you thought her name had beene. A perfect tense in the object clause following a perfect tense in the main clause, occurs also many times in Shakespeare; v. have i) in Schmidt for examples. 19. 4 a Blew-starch-woman. Colored starches were much in vogue at this time. The attitude of the Puritans toward this vanity is shown by Stubbes {Anat. of Abuses, 52) : 'The one arch or piller whereby his [the devil's] kingdome of great ruffeg is vnderpropped, is a certaine kind of liquide matter which they call Starch, wherin the deuill hath willed them to wash and diue his ruffes wel.' ig. 5 A notable hypocriticall vermine it is. It is for 'he', an uncommon use in the middle of a sentence; vermine is to be under- stood figuratively, referring to Busy. 19. 6 stands vpon his face. Face, equivalent to 'appearance'. Cf. modern slang. ig. 14 Antiquity. Classical learning. 19. 16 ha' not to doe. Again the shorter form as in 18. 20, where modern English customarily uses a periphrasis. 19. 20 god you good morrow. The emendations of i6g2, 1716, and W, are quite uncalled for. This ellipsis occurs not infrequently elsewhere. Cf. Rom. and Juliet, 2. 4. 115: God ye good morrow, gentlemen. God ye good den, fair gentlewoman. 19. 25 I am no Clearke, I scorne to be sau'd by my booke, i'faith I'll hang first. Of interest as suggesting an event in Jonson's own life. When he killed Gabriel Spencer in a duel in 1598, he was brought to trial, and only escaped the death-sentence by plead- ing the benefits of clergy. Jeaffreson found the record of this in the Middlesex Sessions Rolls (cf. Athenaeum, March 6, 1886). At the head of the indictment was printed the Clerk of the Peace's 156 Bartholomew Fair memorandum (in Latin) : 'He confesses the indictment, asks for the book, reads like a clerk, is marked with the letter T, and is delivered according to the statute, etc' 20. 7 egges o'the Spit. Cf. Ev. Man In, 3. 3, where Cob says : 'Nay, soft and fair; I have eggs on the spit; I cannot go yet, sir.' On which Wheatley observes : 'This is an old proverb, meaning to be busy.' He cites other proverbs relating to roasting eggs : 'Set a fool to roast eggs and a wise man to eat them'; 'There goes some reason to the roasting of eggs.' In As Y. Like It, 3. 2. 38, Touch- stone says : 'Truly, thou are damned, like an ill-roasted egg all on one side.' A century later the same phrase was used by Swift in his lournal to Stella (April 23, 1713) : 'I write short journals now. I have eggs on the spit. This night the Queen has signed all warrants. . . .' 20. 9 Numps, Corruption of 'Humphrey'. 20. 14 Marke. An early English money of account, not a coin; a weight usually of eight ounces (two thirds of a troy pound). Its value from the thirteenth century on was 13s. 4d. In Middleton's Chaste Maid in Cheapside, 2. i, the same amount is also men- tioned as the price of a wedding license: Touch, sen. How, a license? Touch, jun. Cud's foot, she's lost else! I shall miss her ever. Touch, sen. Nay, sure thou shalt not miss so fair a mark For thirteen shillings fourpence. 20. 28 The Cloister later became one of the most corrupt places in all the Fair. Strype describes it in 1720: 'A passage from King Street into Smithfield, through a fair cloister, well paved with free- stone. On both sides of which are rows of shops, most taken up by semstresses and milliners.' — Cited by Wh. Cun. i. 114. 21. 2 A plague o'this box, and the poxe too. Pox: 'As used by the writers of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the word generally means smallpox.' — C. D. But cf. 45. 19, 48. 36, also 2 Hen. IV, I. 2. 258, 273, where syphilis is plainly referred to. The word seems to have been used in both senses. 21. 10 veluet-custerd. Cf. T. of the Shrew, 4. 3. 82: It is a paltry cap, A custard-coffin, a bauble, a silken pie. This was one of the popular French hoods, round and somewhat sloping like the crust of a thick pie (the old custard-coffin). For cuts of French hoods, see Planche, i. 298. 21. 23 ff. Dryden, in his Essay on Dramatic Poesy {Works, 15. 353). comments on Jonson's practice of describing the characters before they appear: 'Thus, in Bartholomew Fair, he gives you the Notes 157 pictures of Numps and Cokes, and in this [Epicoene] those of Daw, Lafoole, Morose, and the Collegiate Ladies ; all which you hear described before you see them. So that before they come upon the stage, you have a longing expectation of them, which prepares you to receive them favorably; and when they are there, even from their first appearance you are so far acquainted with them, that nothing of their humour is lost to you.' 21. 24 making and marring. Puns on the game of this name were very common among the dramatists. It was forbidden in the second and third year of Philip and Mary, by 'An Acte to make Voyde dyvers Lycences of Houses wherein unlawfull Games bee used.' The act includes 'Bowlying Tenyse Dysyng White & Blacke Making & Marrying', etc. 21. 32 if hee meete but a Carman, etc. Cf. 2 Hen. IV, 3. 2. 340, where Falstafif says that Shallow sang '. . . those tunes to the overscutched huswives that he heard the carmen whistle, and sware they were his fancies or his good-nights.' 21. 33 finde him not talke to keepe him off. Do not chance upon a subject of conversation to keep him away. 21. 34 whistle him, and all his tunes ouer. A confusion of figurative and literal language; whistle him, equivalent to 'whistle his tunes'. 21. 35 a head full of Bees. Eccentric whims ; cf. modern slang. 22. 4 manner of peece. Kind of person. Cf. Tempest, i. 2. 56: 'Thy mother was a piece of virtue.' 22. 10 crosse and pile. 'An old game with money, at which the chance was decided according as the coin fell with that side up which bore the cross, or the other, which was called pile, or reverse : equivalent to the "heads and tails" of the present time.' Pile has its name from the 'small pillar of iron engraved on the top with the image to be given to the under side o^ coin stamped upon it; hence, the under side or reverse of the coin itself.' — C. D. 22. 29 Gib-cat. Tom-cat. Gib is a contraction of Gilbert. 1760 is the date of the first citation in N. E. D. showing change to the present name. Cf. Dekker, Works, 2. 146, where Mercury speaks of 'a Cobler of Poetrie called a play-patcher . . . condemned with his cat to be duckt three times in the Cucking-stole.' 22. 30 Hodge. 'A familiar by-form and abbreviation of the name Roger; used as a typical name for the English agricultural laborer rustic'.— A''. E. D. 22. 30-36 Cf. Overbury's Characters: A Country Gentleman: 'Nothing under a sub poena can draw him to London : and when he is there, he sticks fast upon every object, casts his eyes away upon gazing and becomes the prey of every cutpurse.' 158 Bartholomew Fair 22. 31 would name you all the Signes ouer, as hee went. At a time when only a small proportion of the population could read, the old picture-sign was indispensable. For a great deal of inter- esting material see Larwood and Hotten's History of Signboards. Cuts opposite pp. 464, 488, 512, show the appearance of London streets when even as late as 1760 there was a sign in front of each shop. Their great variety is shown by the names of the chapters in the book referred to : 'Historic and Commemorative Signs', 'Heraldic and Emblematic', 'Animals and Monsters', 'Saints and Martyrs', 'Trades and Professions', 'Humorous and Comic', etc. 22. 32 a Parrat, or a Monkey. These probably were in the shops or shop-windows, calculated to appeal to the almost insatiable appetite of the people for marvels ; cf. note on monsters, 52. 12. 22. 36 Bucklers-bury. Originally extending from the east end of Cheapside to Charlotte Row ; it was greatly shortened by the construction of Queen Victoria Street. It seems to have been chiefly known at this time for its grocers and apothecaries. It was the latter who sold tobacco. Wheatley gives the following quotation from Westward Ho, 1607: 'Go into Bucklersbury and fetch me two ounces of preserved melounes (melons) ; look there be no tobacco taken in the shop when he weighs it.' 23. 5 allow of John's reading at any hand. Approve of John's interpretation on any condition. 23. 8 and all. Also. 23. 10 What, the mischiefe. What is often used as equivalent to 'why' in elliptical expressions. Cf. Rom. and Juliet, 1. 5. 57: 'What dares the slave come hither — ' 23. 14 your fourteene shillings worth of small ware. Refer- ring to the box containing the license. 23. 20 Mary gip. 'Probably originated from By Mary Gipcy ="by St. Mary of Egypt" ; but it became confused with this word [i. e. gip, in sense of 'get out', 'go long with you'].' — N. E. D. It is in the latter sense that Waspe uses the quasi-oath here. Mistris French-hood. The French hood was the most con- spicuous article of dress that Mrs. Overdo wore, and her frequent allusions later prove her great satisfaction in it. The different classes in London were not entirely distinguished by dress, yet the French hood was in general a sign of rank, and consequently was affected by some of the lower classes. Cf. Elegy 61 : Commended the French hood and scarlet gown The lady may'ress passed in through the town. Unto the Spittle sermon. A vivid description of one of its forms is given by Stubbes (Anat. of Abuses, 69) : 'Than, on toppes of these stately turrets (I meane Notes 159 their goodly heads wherein is more vanitie than true Philosophie now and than) stand their other capitall ornaments, as french hood, hat, cappe, kercher, and suche like ; whereof some be of veluet, some of taffatie, some (but few) of woll, some of this fashion, some of that, and some of this color, some of that, according to the variable fantasies of their serpentine minds. And to such excesse is it growen, as euery artificers wyfe (almost) wil not stick to goe in her hat of veluet euerye day, euery marchants wyfe and meane Gentlewoman in her french-hood, and euerye poore Cottagers Daugh- ter in her taffatie hat, or els of woll at least, wel lined with silk, veluet or taffatie.' 24.2 VVhetston. (George Whetstone I544?-I587?) An author of some repute in his day. The titles of several of his works sug- gest that they might have furnished epigrammatic and sententious remarks. The following may have been referred to in the present allusion: 'A Mirour for Magestrates of Cyties. Representing the Ordinaunces, Policies, and Diligence of the Noble Emperour, Alex- ander (surnamed) Severus to suppresse and chastise the notorious Vices noorished in Rome by the superfluous nomber of Dicing-houses, Tavarns, and common Stewes : suffred and cheerished by his beast- lye Predecessour, Helyogabalus.' A new title-page introduced 'An addition or a Touchstone for the Time', which gave in detail an account of the disreputable aspects of London. — D. N. B. 24. 9 For the use of the preterit to denote the concluded past as opposed to the future, see Maetzner, 2. 86. 24. 26 Cosset. 'A pet lamb, especially one reared by hand.' — 5-. D. 24. 29 This is the first hint that Quarlous and Winwife are about to devote themselves to Grace. It will be noticed that Quar- lous is the quicker of the two; in general Winwife is content to follow his lead. such a Cokes. The appropriateness of the young squire's name is made evident by Ford's Lover's Melancholy, 4. 2 : 'A kind of cokes, which is, as the learned term it, an ass, a puppy, a widgeon, a dolt, a noddy.' — Cf. Case is Altered, 5. i : Wilt thou believe him, and he made a cokes, To wait on such an antique weathercock? 24. 32 sober. Modest. 25. 4 it selfe. Yourself. Usage had not defined at this time in what sense it was to be employed. Of the confusion of it with other pronouns, Shakespeare also affords many examples. 25. 16 it will bring you to some obscure place in time. There is a hint of foul play in Quarlous' warning, and Winwife imme- diately follows with similarly feigned alarm. Obscure =z'^\oomy' . i6o Bartholomezv Fair 25. 21 ouer buy. Pay too high a price for. 26. 7 with his Sir Cranion-legs. Gifford says, 'Small, spider- like legs'; he also observes that Cranion is the fairy appellation for a fly, and cites Drayton's Nimphidia: Four nimble Gnats the Horses were. Their Harnasses of Gossamere, Flye Cranion her Chariottere, Vpon the Coach-box getting. 26. 17 who can hold that will away. 'Them' supplied after hold makes the meaning clearer. Gififord observes that this is a proverb of some age, and cites from Dunbar : And Prudence in my eir says ay, Quhy wad you hold that will away? 26. 22 for that too. Also. 26. 25 stone. Testicle. 26. 27 Katerne-peare. Catherine pear, a small and early variety. 27. 2 Batt. A contraction of Bartholomew through the inter- mediate form, Bart. 27. 3 fancy to the Fayre. Cf. Much Ado, 3. 2. 37 : 'Unless he have a fancy to this foolery.' 27. 4 none goes thither of any quality or fashion. This sug- gests the interesting question. How was the Fair regarded in Jon- son's time? The extreme Puritans, as Busy's words and behavior indicate, were opposed to it. Later, in 1678, the London corporation discussed suppressing, or at least limiting, it on moral grounds. On the other hand, in 1663-8, Pepys notes visiting it repeatedly, accom- panied sometimes by his wife, and again by some of the nobility. Walford, in commenting on Prince George's visiting the Fair with his train in 1740, says : 'This event gave fashion to the fair, and, indeed, it had never been considered derogatory for persons in the first rank and fashion to partake in the broad humour and theatrical amusements of the place.' And in the National Review, 8. 438, there is the statement : 'In Charles II's reign Smithfield saw as much good company as Bath under the despotism of Beau Nash.' (Is this not, however, an exaggeration?) In 1614 the Fair had neither the great popularity that it shared with other amusements in the Res- toration, nor did it experience the stern hostility that it encountered from the Puritans just before the Revolution. Two other passages in our play are important in this connection, and indicate that the Fair at this time was hardly Beau Nash's watering-place: 42. 8 ff., where Quarlous and Winwife show that they feel superior to the common people of the Fair, and express annoyance in being approached by the gingerbread woman and hobbyhorse man as likely customers ; and 57. 26, where Quarlous observes in regard to Dame Notes i6i Purecraft : Shee that will venture her selfe into the Fayre and a pig boxe, will admit any assault, be assur'd of that. Prudes and rigid moralists staid away, but probably not so strictly as from the theatres. The middle and lower classes were naturally much more conspicuous in number; however, Grace's real objection to the Fair was not because it was common, but because she must visit it in the company of Cokes. For a modern equivalent the visitors of Bartholomew Fair might well be compared with the frequenters of Coney Island. 27. 6 O Lord, Sir! Used elsewhere, as well, when conversing with women. In All's Well,, 2. 2, the Clown thus constantly pre- faces* his remarks to the Countess, who finally turns the exclama- tion to ridicule. 27. 12 and directly to the Fayre. After modal verbs, infini- tives of motion are frequently omitted. Another example is in 1. 18, must to the Fayre. 27. 24-26 The parenthesis contains Littlewit's invocation to the Muse. Her prompt answer follows in the next line. Similarly in Act 5 Busy calls on his divinity. Zeal (127. 17). 27. 27 long to eate of a Pigge, sweet Win, i'the Fayre. 'This', says Symonds, like the wrath of Achilles in the Iliad, is the motive-passion of the comedy.' 27. 29 Pye-Corner. Pie Corner, the Smithfield end of Gilt- spur Street. Its name was taken from an inn on this site, the 'Sign of the Pie' (the bird). This was just at the entrance of the Fair proper. 'Pye-Corner — noted chiefly for Cooks' shops, and pigs drest there during Bartholomew Fair.' — Strype, 3. 283 (cited by Wheatley). Cf. Alchem. 1. i: . . . at Pie-corner, Taking your meal of steam in, from cooks' stalls. 28. 3 has maintain'd us all this seuen yeere. Cf. Dame Pure- craft's own statement as to the profits from her hypocrisy (108. 28 ff.). 28. 9 beauteous discipline. 'So the pretended reformation of the church was at this time affectedly called by the Puritans', remarks Gifford, who had as little sympathy with the Puritans as Jonson. Cf. Alchem. 3. i : This heat of his may turn into a zeal, And stand up for the beauteous discipline. 28. 21 The very common belief in witchcraft gave opportunity for all kinds of quackery. Thornbury says : 'Every noble had his astrologer, much more every monarch ; and Elizabeth consulted Dr. Dee who saw spirits.' Cf. his chapter on Witchcraft, 2. 112 ff. 28. 23 motion. Instigation. i62 Bartholomew Fair 29. 13 In many ways Busy suggests another great religious hypo- crite, Moliere's Tartuffe. The latter is also a glutton, and his admiring worshipper, Orgon, 'delights to see him eat enough for six' (Tartuffe, i. 2). 29. 20 disease. See Glossary. 29. 22 Bartholmew-pigge. From the earliest years roast pig was peculiarly associated with Bartholomew Fair, and long was its chief dainty. Cf. Works of D'Avenant (fol. 1673), 290: Now London's Chief, on Sadie new. Rides into Fare of Bartholemew: He twirles his Chain, and looketh big, As if to fright the Head of Pig, That gaping lies on greasy Stall, Till Female with great Belly call. 29. 34 a spice of Idolatry. Cf. Acts 15. 29: 'That ye abstain from meats offered to idols,' etc. 29. 36 high Places. Constantly mentioned in the Old Testament; they were connected with the worship of the Canaanites and other heathen tribes, and many times enticed the Children of Israel into idolatry. 30. 14 tents of the wicked. Cf. Numbers 16. 26, Psalms 84. ID. Busy constantly employs Biblical phrases, yet seldom quotes directly. This was in keeping with his ignorance ; Jonson thus avoided associating the Scriptures with him in ridicule. 30. 32 Rabby Busy. Busy is jocosely given the title Rabbi be- cause of his constant use of Biblical language and figures, particu- larly of the Old Testament ; cf. 31. 3 and note. 30. 35 comfort to the weake. Cf. i Thessalonians 5. 14. 30. 36 I will eate exceedingly. Gififord calls attention to the similar satire in The Puritan (1607), 3. 3: Nich. Say that I am gone to a fast. Sim. To a fast? Very good. Nich. Ay, to a fast, say, with master Full-belly the minister. Sim. Master Full-belly? An honest man: he feeds the flock well, for he's an excellent feeder. Frail. O ay; I have seen him eat a whole pig, and afterward fall to the pettitoes. prophesie. 'By prophecy . . . the Puritans meant those ex- temporaneous rhapsodies which they sometimes poured out in the heat of their preaching.' — G. 31. 3 loathing of ludaisme, whereof the brethren stand taxed. Dr. E. N. S. Thompson suggests that this is an allusion to the Jewish tendencies in derision charged against the Puritans because of their constant use of Biblical language and illustration. 'The custom of eating a gammon of bacon at Easter, which is still kept Notes 163 up in many parts of England, was founded on this, viz. to shew their abhorrence to Judaism at that solemn commemoration of our Lord's resurrection.' — The Customs and Manners of the English; from a manuscript in the library of Thomas Astle, cited in The Antiquarian Repertory. 31. 6 could neuer away. Could never agree with. Cf. 2 Hen. IV, 3. 2. 213: Shal. She never could away with me. Fal. Never, never; she would always say she could not abide Master Shallow. ACT II. 31. 15 Linceus. Lynceus, one of the Argonauts, famous for his keen sight, whence the proverb : d^vrepov ^X^ireiv toO AvyK^cjs. Cf. Aristophanes, Pluiiis, 210. peircing. Similarly, peirsh, 53. 5. For the interchange of e and i, cf. freinds, 122. 8, and feinds, 46. 16, which, according to N.E.D., are variants occurring between the thirteenth and seventeenth cen- turies. Epidaurian serpent. Cf. Horace, Sat. i. 3. 26: . . . in amicorum vitiis tarn cernis acutum Quara aut aquila aut serpens Epidaurius. 31. 17 Quorum. 'Originally certain justices of the peace, usually of eminent learning or ability, whose presence was necessary to constitute a bench.' — A^.E.D. 31. 24 S. This is a local allusion of great importance. The worthy worshipfull man, sometime a capitall member of this City, was a person no less distinguished than the Lord Mayor of London, Sir Thomas Hayes ; and his tour of personal visitation to the places where the laws were violated, here eulogized by Overdo, he himself describes in a letter, dated 8th July, 1614, to the Lord Chamberlain, 'detailing the steps taken by him since his appointment for reforming what he found out of order in the City.' The substance of the letter is given in the Analytical Index to Remembrancia, 358-359: 'He had informed himself, by means of spies, of many lewd houses, and had gone himself disguised to divers of them, and, finding these nurseries of villany, had punished them according to their deserts, some by carting and whipping, and many by banishment. Finding the gaol pestered with prisoners, and their bane to take root and 164 Bartholomew Fair beginning at ale-houses, ... he had taken an exact survey of all victualling houses and ale-houses, which were above a thousand, and above 300 barrels of strong beer in some houses, the whole quantity of beer in victualling houses amounting to above 40,000 barrels ; he had thought it high time to abridge their number and limit them by bonds as to the quantity of beer they should use, and as to what orders they should observe, whereby the price of corn and malt had greatly fallen. The Bakers and Brewers had been drawn within bounds, so that, if the course continued, men might have what they paid for, viz. weight and measure.' 31. 27 Dog-killer, in this moneth of August. 'In the East there are certain months in the year during which the police authorities pay a fixed reward for every dead dog brought to them, the object being as much to keep down their numbers as to guard against madness, and with this view a larger price is paid for bitches than for dogs. The practice is to stun them with a heavy stick, and so it must have been in London, according to Taylor, the Water Poet: And last the dog-killer's great gains abounds For brayning brawling curs, and foisting hounds.' — Cun. 31. 29 goe you. Supply 'for', just as in take you, 1. 26. Cf. Abbott, 146: 'Me, thee, him, &c. are often used, in virtue of their representing the old dative, where we should use for me, by me, etc' Cf. Tempest, i. 2. 244, i Hen. IV, i. 3. 98: 4. 3. 75. 32. 9 would all men. Would that all men. The prevailing tendency was toward brevity in speech ; and this is so marked in Jonson as often to make his thought obscure. For other examples see 26. 10, 17; 35. 26; 57. 7, 21 ; 66. 21. 32. 10 president. Whalley's emendation, 'precedent', adopted also by Gififord, is not without support, for the latter word was frequently confused with president. But as it is quite possible that president may have been intended to refer to the Lord Mayor, the change is not strictly warranted. 32. 12 a foolish Constable, or a sleepy Watchman. The pom- pous stupidity of the watch, which had become almost a byword, has already been referred to. We have an illustration of it later in Haggise and Bristle. 32. 17 an honest zealous Pursiuant, for a Seminary. The Pursivant was a state messenger employed to summon papists and offending Puritans before the spiritual courts (cf. Neal, i. 273). Seminary was a name familiarly applied to one who had studied abroad at a Catholic seminary; nine schools of this kind, located at Rome, Madrid, Ghent, etc., were established between 1569 and Notes 165 1624 for the education of the English youth (Neal, i. 221). The seminaries were forbidden residence in England, and such as dis- obeyed were the objects of severe persecution. Cf. Stow's Annales, 1217: 'The 19 of January [1586], Nicholas Deuerox was condemned for treason, in being made a Seminary priest at Reimes in France, since the feast of Saint lohn Baptist, in Anno primo of hir maiesties raigne, and in remaining here after the terme of fortie daies after the session of the last Parliament'. Also cf. Harl. Miscel. 3. 38 (London, 1809). 32. 20 by your leaue. The introduction of this conventional phrase into a soliloquy may seem strange, but finds its justification in that the Justice is speaking out of character and addressing the audience. This same phrase is the subject of a quibble in the drunken vapours, 92. 1-4. 32. 25 courts of Pye-pouldres. Such courts in England seem to have originated with the fairs. They have existed at all the European fairs and at the Norman, Italian, and early Roman markets. Walford traces them back even to ancient Greece, and says : 'Demosthenes makes it plain that all causes relating to the festival of Bacchus were heard on the spot'. The jurisdiction of this court is well described in the Statutes of the Realm: 1477-8, 17° Edw. IV. 'Item, Whereas divers Fairs be holden and kept in this Realm, ... to every of the same Fairs is of Right pertaining a Court of Py-powders, to minister in the same due Justice in this Behalf; in which Court it hath been all times accus- tomed, that every Person coming to the said Fairs, should have lawful Remedy of all manner of Contracts, Trespasses, Covenants, Debts, and other Deeds made or done within any of the same Fairs, during the Time of the same Fairs, and within the Jurisdiction of the same.' Cf. Blackstone's Commentaries, 3. 4. i : 'The lowest, and at the same time the most expeditious, court of justice known to the law of England . . . It is a court of record, incident to every fair and market ... its jurisdiction extends to administer justice for all commercial injuries done in that very fair or market, and not in any preceding one. So that the injury must be done, complained of, heard and determined, within the compass of one and the same day, unless the fair continues longer. The court hath cognizance of all matters of contract that can possibly arise within the precinct of that fair or market ; and the plaintiff must make oath that the cause of action arose there.' Its name is a corruption of the French pieds poudreux (dusty feet), as is shown by the follow- ing from the Regiam Majestatem, 1609, cited by Walford : 'Gif ane stranger merchand travelland throw the Realme, havand na land, nor residence, nor Dwelling within the schirefdome, bot i66 Bartholomew Fair vaigand fra ane place to ane other, quha therefore is called Pied Puldreaux, or dustifute.' A Court of Pie-powder still exists at Stourbridge Fair (near Cambridge), at the fair of Newcastle-upon- Tyne, etc. 32. 26 during the three dayes sometimes to sit as ludge. The time of the Fair included St. Bartholomew's Day, the afternoon preceding, and the day following, August 23-25. 32. 27 enormities. Breaches of the law. Cf. Addison, Guardian, 116: 'There are many little enormities in the world, which our preachers would be very glad to see removed.' 32. 28 this the cloud that hides me. An allusion to Aeneas, enveloped in a cloud which prevented his being seen as he entered Carthage (cf. Aeneid, 1. 412). 32. 30 On Junius Brutus. While there is no very striking similarity between the Roman hero and Overdo, the comparison is strictly in keeping. To the Justice, his task is not less than that of saving the republic. 32. 31 In Brome's The Weeding of the Covent-Garden, i. i (1658), Cockbrayne, a Justice of the Peace and the Weeder of the Garden, echoes these lines, 'And so as my Reverend Ancestor Justice Adam Overdoe, was wont to say^ In Heavens name and the Kings, and for the good of the Commonwealth I will go about it.' 33. I The Fayre's pestelence dead. In 1593 and in 1603, no fair was held because of the plague then prevailing. The same happened later in 1625, 1665, and 1666. 33. 9 As will be seen from the last clause of the Proclamation by City of London, which I quote in part, the selling of impure breadstuffs was illegal. A similar warning is to be found in the Crye in Sturbridge Payer, 1548, in substance repeated each year down into the nineteenth century. Proclamation by City of London. — 1604. The Right Hon. the Lord Mayor of the City of London, and his right worshipful Brethren the Aldermen of the said City, streightly charge and com- mand, on the behalf of our Sovereign Lord the King, that all manner of persons, of whatsoever estate, degree, or condition they be, having recourse to this fair, keep the Peace of our said Sovereign Lord the King. That no manner of persons make any congregation, conventicle, or affrays, by which the same peace may be broken or disturbed, upon pain of imprisonment and fine, to be made after the discretion of the Lord Mayor and Aldermen. Also that all manner of Sellers of wine, ale, or beer, sell by measures ensealed, as by gallon, pottle, quart and pint, upon pain that will fall thereof. And that no person sell any bread, but if it keep the assize, and that it be good and whole- some for man's body, upon pain that will fall thereof. — Cited by Walford, 191. 33. 12 lone. Joan, a name common in the kitchen and cottage (Yonge's Hist, of Christian Names, i. 113). Cf. L. L. Lost, 5. 2. 939; also Epigram 42, On Giles and Joan. Notes 167 33. 14 hobby-horses. Thus described by Strutt, Sports and Pastimes, 224: 'The hobby-horse which seems latterly to have been almost inseparable from the morris-dance, was a compound figure; the resemblance of the head and tail of a horse, with a light wooden frame for the body, was attached to the person who was to perform the double character, covered with trappings reaching to the ground, so as to conceal the feet of the actor, and prevent its being seen that the supposed horse had none. Thus equipped, he was to prance about, imitating the curvetings and motions of a horse.' 33. 15 I pay for my ground. Stallage and piccage (money paid for the privilege of breaking ground for the erection of a booth) were the sources of considerable revenue to the lord of the fair. 33. 16 for all thou art parcell-poet, and an Inginer. It is commonly agreed that in the character of Lanthorn Leatherhead Jonson had Inigo Jones in mind. Fleay notes in regard to this (Eng. Drama, i. 378) : 'That Lantern Leatherhead the puppet-man is Inigo Jones I cannot doubt. Jones had prepared the show part of Daniel's Tethys' Festival, 1610, June 5, just after the rupture between Jones and Jonson, who worked together till 1609, Feb. 2. He is "parcel poet and an inginer", his poetry consisting of his doggerel to Coryat's Crudities, 161 1, June 7. His "velvet jerkin" is mentioned [63. 27] ; he is sought for "at your great city suppers", such as the mask of the Four Seasons (q.v.), ''can set out a mask", and "engrosses all" [63. 25], (compare Dominus Do-all in The Expostulation) ; puts down Cokely as puppet-master (compare The Tale of a Tub), and "baited the fellow in the bear's skin", the "fighting bear of last year" in Love Restored (q.v.) ; he suc- ceeds Captain Pod as motion-master [106. 8] ; is the mouth of the dumb shows [113. 29] (compare The Expostulation with its "lantern- lerry" and Tale of a Tub with its "lantern-paper", which allude to the very name in this play) ; presents nothing but what is licensed by authority with the Master of the Revels' hand to it, etc., etc. This is all Jones.' Jones had gone to Italy in the summer of 1613, and was still absent at the time of the production of Bartholomew Fair. As Gifford has observed (he reluctantly admits that there may be possibly some allusion to Jones), there is nothing bitter or malignant in the satire. parcell-poet. 'Petty poet' ; 'poetaster' ; also used by Dekker in Satiro-mastix : 'the Parcell-Poets shall Sue thy wrangling Muse.' The same term occurs in Staple of Ncivs, 'Persons of the Play'; cf. parcel-gilt, 2 Hen. IV, 2. i. 94; parcel-guilty, Poetaster, 5. i. 33. 17 and make a ballad of thee. This way of revenging one's self is also suggested in i Hen. IV, 2. 2. 48: Fal. 'An I have not ballads made on you all and sung to filthy tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison.' 1 68 Bartholomew Fair 33. 19 Arsedine. 'A gold-coloured alloy of copper and zinc, rolled into very thin leaf, and used to ornament toys, etc. ; "Dutch gold", "Manheim gold'".—N.E.D. 33. 22 charme. 'To overcome or subdue'. — N.E.D. 34. I What doe you lacke. 'Merchandise of almost every description was formerly "carried and cried" in the streets. When shops were little more than open shanties, the apprentice's cry of "What d'ye lack what d'ye lack my masters ?" was often accom- panied by a running description of the goods on sale, together with personal remarks, complimentary or otherwise, to likely and unlikely buyers'. — Tuer's Old London Street Cries. 34. 10 wading. Making way against difficulties or embarrass- ments. 34. 14 Ursula (cf. M.L. derivation, meaning a 'she bear') is certainly very appropriate for the huge, waddling pig-woman. The name seems to have been common, particularly among servants. Cf. T. G. of Ver. 4. 4. 122; Much Ado, 3. i. 4. who would weare out their youth. Their was often used instead of his when the antecedent was general. Even such ungrammatical forms as the following were not uncommon : 'But God send every one their heart's desire !' — Much Ado, 3. 4. 60. 34. 17 what Moone-calfe. A comma after what, and an excla- mation point at the end, improve the punctuation. What is an exclamation of impatience (cf. Franz, 84, 157), as in /. Caesar, 2. I. I : 'What, Lucius, ho !' Abbott, p. 54, suggests that some ellipsis is to be supplied, 'What (is the matter) ?' Moon-calf was a name commonly applied to ugly or deformed persons ; cf. Tempest, 2. 2. The original myth regarding the moon- calf is given by Pliny in his Natural History, 10. 64: 'Molas, de quibus ante diximus, gigni putant, ubi mulier non ex mare, verum ex semetipsa tantum conceperit', etc. 34. 24-25 The comparison is between the zigzag or serpentine path that one makes as he walks, swinging a watering-pot, and that left by Ursula dripping perspiration as she waddled along. Cf. I Hen. H'^, 2. 2. 116: Falstaff sweats to death. And lards the lean earth as he walks along. 34. 35 _ mornings dew. Cf. modern 'mountain-dew'. 35. 4 Changeling. In the myth that fairies often change a new- born babe in its cradle, they are usually charged with substituting an infant that is ugly or stupid. This term of revilement was occasionally equivalent to 'idiot'. 35. 7 Stote. Weasel ; he is called the latter name in 43. 22. It was appropriate because of his leanness, which must have made Notes 169 him an amusing contrast to his fat mistress. Stole was also a term of contempt. 35. II Punke, Pinnace and Bawd. 'The usual gradation in infamy. A pinnace was a light vessel built for speed, generally employed as a tender. Hence our old dramatists constantly used the word for a person employed in love-messages, a go-between in the worst sense, and only differing from a bawd in not being stationary'. — G. 35. 26 Tapster. In apposition with hce, preceding line. 35. 28 I will ha' made. There was confusion at this time in the use of 'shall' and 'will'. Will in the first person denoted futurity as well as purpose. 35. 29 For a busy booth Ursula's stock of tobacco might seem absurdly small; but when one considers the price (cf. note 49. 29), and also the fact of its being sold by pipefuls, her supply is not so despicable. Traill (3. 572) mentions the letting of pipes by land- ladies, for which they charged the same as Ursula. all my whole. Cf. Mer. of Venice, 3. 4. 81 : 'I'll tell thee all my whole device'. tabacco. Fairholt, Tobacco, 46: 'The Spanish name, tabaco, given to it by Hernandez ultimately triumphed over all, and became (with slight variations) that universally recognized over the world. The Spaniards still use the name in its old purity of spelling; the Portuguese and Italians add an additional letter and term it tabacco; we alter the first vowel improperly and call it tobacco'. For theories regarding the uncertain origin of the name, see CD.; also Fairholt, 14 flf. 35. 30 Coltsfoot. The great popularity of tobacco and its high price gave many temptations to adulteration. Cf. Dr. Barclay of Edinburgh, Nepenthes, 1614 (cited by Fairholt, Tobacco, 71) : 'Avarice and greedines of gaine have moved the marchants to apparell some European plants with Indian coats, and to enstal them in shops as righteous and legitimate tabacco . . . they sophisti- cate and farde the same [Florida tobacco] in sundrie sortes, with black spice, galanga, aqua vitae, Spanish wine, anise seedes, oyle of Spicke, and such like'. Also Alchem. i. i, where Face says of Drugger : He lets me have good tobacco, and he does not Sophisticate it with sack-lees or oil. Nor washes it in muscadel and grains. Nor buries it in gravel, under ground, Wrapp'd up in greasy leather. 35. 31 be to seek in smoak. To seek: 'At a loss; without knowledge, experience or resources ; helpless : used adjectively, usually with be'. — CD. lyo Bartholomezv Fair 35. 34 ff . Devices for giving small measures are naturally com- mon where trade is transient, as at a three days' fair. The small measures of ale are satirized in a description of Bartholomew Fair in 1655, cited by D'Urfey, Pills to Purge Melancholy, 4. 169: To London che came, hearing of the Fame Of a Fair they call Bartholomezv. . . . For a Penny you may zee a fine Puppet-play, And for Two-pence a rare piece of Art; And a Penny a Cann, I dare swear a Man, May put zix of 'em into a Quart. 36. 5 mis-take away the bottles. Gifford says : 'This practice was so common, that the expression became a cant phrase for private stealing'. Cf. Masque of Augurs: 'To fetch bouge of court, a parcel of invisible bread and beer for the players (for they never see it) ; or to mistake six torches from the chandry, and give them one'. Also Donne, Sat. 5. 63-68. 36. 17 O Tempera! O mores! Cf. Cicero, Catiline, i. 2. 36. 18 this one grieuance. The selling of ale and beer accord- ing to standard measures was enjoined upon the traders of the Fair by the Mayor's Annual Proclamation (cf. note on 2>i- 9)- 36. 26 Nephew. Used in anticipation of Aunt, 1. 34. 36. 29 Arthur of Bradley. Long a proverbial and popular char- acter; there are many ballads about him, chiefly descriptive of his wedding. See Ebsworth's Choyce Drollery (166-175, 397-402), Merry Drollery (312-317). I cite the first two stanzas of a ballad on this character contained in the latter work (a reprint of the Merry Drollery, 1661) : Saw you not Pierce the Piper, His Cheeks as big as a Myter, Piping among the Swains That's down in yonder Plains: Where Tib and Tom doth tread it, And youths the hornpipe lead it, With every one his carriage To go to yonder Marriage, For the honour of Arthur of Bradly, O brave Arthur of Bradly, O fine Arthur of Bradly, O brave Arthur of Bradly, oh. Arthur hath gotten a Lass, A bonnier never was; The chiefest youths in the Parish Come dancing in a Morris, With Country Gambols flovincing, Country Wenches trouncing, Dancing with mickle pride, Every man his wench by his side. To the honour of Arthur, etc. Notes 171 There is nothing in this or in the other versions of the ballad which I have seen, to indicate that Arthur was demented. Ebsworth, however, tells of a modern version attributed to a comic singer and actor, Taylor, at the beginning of the nineteenth century in which 'the bridegroom is of a Petrucio cast, in disposition and attire', and thinks this had some traditional fragment of Elizabethan times for its origin. The dance accompanying this ballad was wildly merry and frolicsome, much used at weddings. Mooncalf's / ha bin one o'your little disciples means that he had joined in these gaieties. Cf. Robin Hood's Birth, Breeding, Valor and Marriage (printed in Dryden's Miscellany, 1716; included in Child's Ballads, 3. 217) : Before we came to it, we heard a strange shouting, And all that were in it lookd madly; For some were a bull-back, some dancing a morris. And some singing Arthur-a-Bradly. 36. 34 Overdo, enthusiastic at the success of his disguise, is attempting to talk like a wild young gallant. 37. 3 and thou drawest on holy daies. Analogous to 'holiday attire' ? 37. 5 handsell. 'The first money taken by a trader in the morn- ing, a luck-penny'. — N.E.D. 37. 7 Aunt. 'Gossip', and not 'bawd' as Whalley and Gifford think it means here. It is similarly used in M. N. Dream, 2. i. 51. Another meaning for aunt is given by Nares, but as it is not supported by the N.E.D. , it is to be distrusted: 'Aunt was also the customary appellation addressed by a jester or fool, to a female of matronly appearance ; as uncle was to a man. This appears in the justice's personification of a fool, Barth. Fair, act II, i, where he by no means intends to provoke the old lady, nor does she take offence'. 37. 16-17 The route from Newgate to Tyburn was by way of Holborn ; after passing Fetter Lane and approaching to Farringdon Street, it mounted Holborn Hill, which disappeared together with the name, on the construction of Holborn Viaduct in 1869. Cf. Dryden's Limberman, 4. i ; Aldo. Daughter Pad, you are welcome: What, you have performed the last Christian office to your keeper; I saw you follow him up the heavy hill to Tyburn. 37. 22 A cutpurse of the sword! the boote, and the feather. Cf. the rogue of to-day, interested in horses and the race-track, wearing clothes of the loudest pattern, and flashing a big diamond stud. 37. 25 Turne-bull streete. Cf. note on Tnrnbull, 'Persons of the Play', p. 4. 172 Bartholomew Fair 37. 27 cowes vdders. Mammon (Alchem. 2. i), telling of the luxuries he is about to enjoy as he comes to wealth, mentions: the swelling unctuous paps Of a fat pregnant sow, newly cut off, Drest with an exquisite, and poignant sauce. 38. 3 no malice in these fat folkes. This at once suggests the well known passage in /. Caesar, i. 2. 192: 'Let me have men about me that are fat', etc. 38. 5 vapours. For this word, which occurs often in our play (sixty-nine times) and with various shades of meaning, we have a partial definition by the author (90. S. D.) : Their game of vapours which is nonsense. Euery man to oppose the last man that spoke: whethe it concern'd him or no. In this sense it means : A hectoring, bullying form of speech where there is constant contradiction, intended to arouse real or mock quarrels (cf. 38. 5, 43. 16, 90. i). It is further used, generally in the singular, but occasionally in the plural, in the sense of: Humor, disposition, conceit, fancy, caprice, whim (46. 2, 76. 3, 98. 25); and, again: 111 feelings or disorder (56. 32). There is also a transitive verb made from the noun: To hector with, bully or insult, in order to start a quarrel (46. 3. 5. 6, 7) ; To humor (41. 17). Coleridge observes {Literary Remains, 2. 283) : 'It is not often that old Ben condescends to imitate a modern author; but master Dan. Knockem Jordan and his vapors are manifest reflexes of Nym and Pistol'. And Gifford remarks : 'There is no doubt that this is an exact copy of the drunken conversation among the bullies, or roarers, of those times : It is, however, so inexpressibly dull that it were to be wished the author had been content with a shorter specimen of it. His object un- doubtedly was to inculcate a contempt and hatred of this vile species of tavern pleasantry; and he probably thought with Swift, when he was drawing up his Polite Conversation, that this could only be done by pressing it upon the hearer to satiety'. The follow- ing are the lines in which the word occurs ; the looseness with which the noun was used — the context often giving no clue to the precise meaning — would make it impracticable to classify these occur- rences according to significance: Noun sing. 41. 16, 18; 42. 35; 46. 2 (twice) ; 76. 3; 91. 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 34; 92. 34; 93. 4, 6, 9, 14, 22; 98. 25, 26, 28; 99. 24; 100. 8; 117. 5, 6, 26. Noun plural, 38. 5, 8, 26, 27; 39. 6, 10; 40. 2>2,; 43- I3, 16, 18; 44. 17; 45. 34, 35; 46. 8 (twice) ; 56. 32, 35; 57. 7; 89. 18; 90. i, 21, S. D. (twice) ; 92. 15; 94. 6, 11; 96. 16; 98. 16; 99. 16; 116. 16, 28; 117. 20; 122. 4, 5; 125. 23; 126. 26; 130. ID. Verb trans. 41. 17; 46. 3, 5, 6,7. Notes 173 38. 13 Dan. Knockum: lordane. Jordan seems to have been the name by which Knockem was famiHarly known among his associates, but not his surname as the punctuation of Whalley's and Gififord's texts would indicate. The word commonly denoted the chamber utensil (see puns, 38. 31, 96. i) ; hence when applied to individuals, a term of abuse (cf. Jordan, N.E.D.). For a contemporary's sharp delineation of the typical Smithfield horse-courser, see Overbury's Characters, 'An arrant Horse-courser'. 38. 20 Shee battens with it. With is an unusual preposition to employ with baitoi; however, cf. Milton, Lycidas, 29: 'Battening our flocks zvith the fresh dews of night.' 38. 22 after game. 'A second game played in order to reverse or improve the issues of the first.' — N.E.D. 38. 28 Neuer tuske, nor twirle your dibble. CD. defines tusk (with particular mention of this passage) : 'To gnash the teeth, as a boar', and N.E.D. gives as a conjecture that by dibble was meant the moustache. These I regard as the best explanations. Gifford, however, suggests that dibble may mean the 'spade beard' common at this tirne, and Cunningham identifies tusks with mustachios. For an excellent description and cuts of the styles of wearing the beard, see 'The Ballad of the Beard', Percy Soc. Early Eng. Ballads, 27. 121. 38. 32 Lyon-chap. Lion-chop or -jaw. 39. 3 foundring thee i'the bodie. Foundring has the not unusual meaning of destroying or causing to collapse utterly. Of its special meaning as applied to horses (and incidentally to Ursula) we may gain further information from Markham's Maister-Peece: 'Evill and grosse humours . . . doe at length oppresse and almost con- found the whole body, absolutely taking away from him all his strength, insomuch that he can neither goe nor bow his joynts, nor being laid, is able to rise againe . . . [often] it proceedeth from suffering the horse to drinke too much in his travaile being very hot, whereby the grease being suddenly cooled, it doth clap about, and suffocate the inward parts.' 39. 7 and thy grasse scour'd. Gifford says that Knockem's conversation 'is made up of scraps from the stable, which call for no explanation.' Cunningham does not dismiss the difficulties so boldly, but acknowledges he can make no sense out of this particular phrase except by omitting thy, or by changing it to 'thy guts grass- scoured.' No such emendation, however, is needed ; grasse is for 'grasso', a horse-leech's term, thus defined by Markham : 'Which is any manner of fat, is hot and moyst, and doth ripen and soften.' 'Scourings', further to quote Markham, 'are those wholesome, naturall and gentle purging medicines, which stirring up no great 174 Bartholomew Fair Fluxe of humours, doe onely keepe the body cleane from such evills as would arise and grow.' 39. 8 wench. 'Not always in a bad sense, as at present, but used as a general familiar expression, in any variation of tone between tenderness and contempt.' — Schmidt. 39. 15 token. During the reign of Elizabeth private tokens were issued of lead, tin, latten, and leather. In James I's reign copper tokens were used, but the monopoly of striking them was conferred upon individuals. After the Civil War the monopoly lapsed, and the result was an issue of copper tokens by the principal tradesmen. In 1672 an authorized copper coinage of farthings and half pennies was undertaken and the tokens fell into disuse. — Abridged from Poole, 128-129. 39. 16 Ha' you any comes 'i your feete, and toes? As Gifford observes, Shirley mentions this old street cry in the Constant Maid, 2. 2. 39. 17 Mouse-trap, or a Tormentor for a Flea. Cf. Taylor's Travels of Twelve-pence: I could name more, if so my Muse did please, Of Mowse Traps, and tormentors to kill Fleas. Heywood, Rape of Lucrece, Appendix : 'Buy a very fine Mouse-trap or a tormentor for your Fleaes.' A flea-trap is also mentioned in Beaumont and Fletcher's Bondtica, 2. 3. 39. 22 the Ferret and the Coney. These were rogues' terms in common use. Dekker's Lanthorne and Candle Light, 1609 (Works, 3. 228 ff.), contains a chapter on 'Ferreting. The Manner of vndoo- ing Gentlemen by taking vp of commodities', in which occurs the following: 'lliis Ferret-Hunting hath his Seasons as other games haue, and is onely followed at such a time of yeare, when the Gentry of our kingdome by riots, hauing chased them-selues out of the faire reuenewes and large possession left to them by their ancestors, are forced to hide their heads like Conies, in little Caues and in vnfre- quented places : or else being almost windle^, by running after sensual! pleasures to feircely, they are glad (for keeping them-selues in breath so long as they can) to fal to Ferret-hunting, y* is to say, to take vp commodities. . . . The Cittizen that sells them [the commodities] is the Ferret.' The Coney was the dupe, the gull, the victim of the cony-catcher. 'Coney was often spelt "cunny", being pronounced so as to rhyme with "money." The vowel did not acquire the present 6 until the nineteenth century.' — N.E.D. 39. 25 A dozen of diuine points, etc. Points were laces with tags at the end, serving for buttons to hold the clothes together. Cf. I Hen. IV, 2. 4. 238: Fal. Their points being broken, — Poins. Down fell their hose. Notes 175 In regard to garters, cf. Planche, i. 199: 'They were, in the time of James I, small sashes of silk, tied in a large bow, and the ends of point lace.' In regard to the ballad itself, cf. an old song, which Cunningham refers to, reprinted by the Percy Society, Satirical Songs and Poems on Costume, 'A dossen of Points, sent by a Gentlewoman to her Lover for a Newe Yeares Gifte.' The con- clusion indicates its character : With theise twelve vertuous points, Se thou do tye thee round. And lyke and love this simple gifte. Till better may be found. Yet one point thou dost lacke, To tye thy hose before: Love me as I love the, and shall. From hence for evermore. Fairholt (the editor) comments on this ballad: '[It] appears to be a production of the early part of Elizabeth's reign. I believe it to be the very ballad alluded to by Ben Jonson, in his comedy of Bartholomew Fair.' 40. 14 The dress of the lawyer's clerk, as well as of the serving man, afforded a disguise not uncommon, for the thief frequenting fairs, St. Paul's, etc. 40. 24 flye the purse to a marke. 'To fly at mark. Generally said of a Goshawk when, having "put in" a covey of partridges, she takes stand, marking the spot where they disappeared from view until the falconer arrives to put them out to her.' — Harting. The same epression is used in the Induction of Uie Magnetic Lady: 'Fly everj^hing you see to the mark and censure it freely.' Dekker in his Lanthorne and Candle-Light tells how terms of hunting and falconry were similarly used by rogues in their cozenage. 40. 27 your friendship (Masters) is not now to beginne. That is, they had worked together before, and the directions of procedure were quite unnecessary. 40. 34 and good whimsies. Nearly equivalent to 'humors', or 'vapors'. Cf. Staple of News, 4. i : Now I think of it, A noble whimsy's come into my brain: I'll build a college. 41. 4 Very passionate, Mistresse, etc. Cunningham aptly refers to Lamb's Dissertation upon Roast Pig: 'Now he is just done. To see the extreme sensibility of that tender age, he hath wept out his pretty eyes — radiant jellies — shooting stars — '. 41. 5 melancholy. Cf. Ev. Man In, i. 3, where Knowell charges Stephen with being melancholy, and where Stephen later expresses 176 Bartholomew Fair this resolve : 'Why, I do think of it ; and I will be more proud, and melancholy, and gentleman-like than I have been, He ensure you.' Wheatley notes : 'One of the fantastic humours of the gallants of this day was the assumption of a melancholy and abstracted air . . . This appearance of abstraction was thought to be a sign of gentility, and in one of the spurious Shakespearean plays, Life and Death of Lord Cromwell, Act III, sc. 2, almost the same words are used as are put into Stephen's mouth in 1. 132 — "My nobility is wonderful melancholy: Is it not mosj gentlemanlike to be melancholy?" ' 41, 12 strange woman. 'The scripture phrase for an immodest woman, a prostitute. Indeed this acceptation of the word is familiar to many languages. It is found in the Greek; and we have in Terence — pro uxore habere hanc perigrinam: upon which Donatus remarks, hoc nomine etiani meretrices nominabantur.' — G. 41. 13 From Ovid, Metamorphoses, 15. 871. 41. 16 and store! And plenty. 41. 21 Goshawke. Employed in falconry, being flown at pheas- ant, mallard, wild goose, hare, and rabbit; often very fierce. Cf. Dekker, 2 Honest Whore, 3. 3 : 'We hear of two or three new wenches are come up with a carrier, and your old goshazvk here is flying at them.' 42. 5 comfortable bread. 'Spiced gingerbread'. — G. 42. 6 Ceres selling her daughters picture. Proserpine's. 42. 16 ff. Apparently Knockem had been Edgworth's teacher in the art of cutting a purse, and so was free to demand a large part of his gains. Greene {Works, 10. no ff.) gives a vivid picture of an 'old Coole' (cut-purse) and his 'young toward schoUer' at work. 42. 24 roar'd as loud as Neptune. As loud as the sea. There is a play here on the word roar'd, which is used in the previous line in the sense of talking in a swaggering, bully-like manner. 42. 25 as likely an inconuenience. As pleasing an absurdity. 42. 31-32 A similar consciousness of superior rank or character on the part of Winwife and Quarlous, is several times manifested. In 1. 8 Knockem sees this and charges Winwife with being proud. Cf. 16. 33, 42. 8, loi. 9. 43. I my Punque, cold, Sir. Not fevered by passion, that is, considering her profession, not at all. 43. 4 the bottle is almost off. Almost gone, or drunk. Cf. Drinke it off (100. 23). 43. 19-20 For the irregularity in the conditional sentence; cf. Hamlet, 2. 2. 534-540: But if the gods themselves did see her then . . . The instant burst of clamour that she made, . . . Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven. Notes 177 As Abbott remarks : 'The consequent does not always answer to the antecedent in mood or tense. Frequently the irregularity can be readily explained by a change of thought.' 43. 25 would my Booth ha' broake. Become bankrupt, a play upon credit in the preceding line. 43. 30 and be curst a while. Gifford compares this with 'be naught awhile' {As Y. Like It, i. i. 39), equivalent to 'the mischief on you', and quotes several passages to show that this was a proverbial curse. 43. 31 Body o'the Fayre. A curious pseudo-oath, formed in imitation of 'Body of Christ', which was common in its many corruptions ; cf. 46. 35. 44. 4 'Gear or geer used to be one of the hardest-worked words in the English language. It meant matter or material of any and every sort and kind. Smithfield (more particularly Cow Lane) was the recognized place for coachmakers, just as Long Acre now is, with respect to the use to which Ursula's "geer" was to be turned.' — Cun. [Curious English, this of Cunningham's ! Who will explain the subtlety of his last clause?] Coleridge {Literary Remains, 2. 283) observes: 'Good! but yet it falls short of the speech of a Mr. Johnes, M.P., in the Common Council, on the invasion intended by Buonaparte : "Houses plundered — then burnt ; — sons conscribed — wives and daughters ravished, &c., &c. — But as for you, you luxurious Aldermen ! with your fat will he grease the wheels of his triumphal chariot !" ' 44. 12 fennel. Fennel, as also mint and parsley, was commonly eaten with fish (see Our Eng. Home, 70). 44. 14 Is shee your quagmire. Owners of large stables com- monly have a bog or miry spot where the horses may stand when they are lame, etc. 44. 25 Allusions to people of the Low Countries in the Eliza- bethan dramatists were nearly always of a humorous turn; the epithets, 'butter-box', 'butter-bag', 'butter-mouth', were contemp- tuously given to the Dutchmen because of the great quantity of butter eaten by them (cf. 'butter-box', Grose's Lexicon Bala- tronicum) . 44. 31 leane playhouse poultry. An allusion to the birds employed in the cockfights popular at this time. Boulton's Amuse- ments of Old London, i. 171-206, well describes this sport. 44. 37 sweating Sicknesse. So called from the 'deadely burn- yng sweate', the first symptoms of the fatal plague that devastated England several times. Stow thus describes its ravages in London and Northern England in 1551 : 'Certaine it is that in London in few daies 960. gaue vp the ghost . . . people beeing in best 178 Bartholomew Fair health, were sodainely taken, and dead in fower and twentie houres, and twelue, or lesse, for lacke of skill in guiding them in their sweat.' — Annates, 1023. 45. 1-2 An allusion to the French pox. Equivalent to the com- mon curse 'pox on you' or 'plague take you'. Though they be o'scarlet refers to breech and not to patch. 'Breeches' (plural) was the form of the word most commonly used, and in the present instance the pronoun agrees with the plural significance of its antecedent, and not with its singular form, in the speech of the uncultured Ursula. 45. 5 Cuckingstoole. 'An instrument of punishment formerly in use for scolds, disorderly women, fraudulent tradespeople, etc., consisting of a chair (sometimes in the form of a close-stool), in which the offender was fastened and exposed to the jeers of the bystanders, or conveyed to a pond or river and ducked.' — N.E.D. Cf. Brand, 3. 102-108. The etymologies suggested by Gifford (from 'cuckquean') and by Blount, quoted by Brand (from 'ducking-stool', or perhaps 'choking-stool'), are not supported by N.E.D. It seems to be made up of 'cuck', to avoid excrement, and 'stool'. 45. 7 A reference to the pond within the limits of the Fair. Of this Stow says : 'Horsepoole, in West Smithfield, was some time a great water; and because the inhabitants in that part of the city did there water their horses, the same was in old records called Horsepoole; it is now [1598] much decayed, the springs being stopped up, and the land water falling into the small bottom, remaining inclosed, with brick, is called Smithfield pond.' — Survey of London, 7. 45. 9 hedge bird. 'A person born, brought up, or accustomed to loiter under a hedge ; a vagrant ; a sturdy vagabond ; a footpad.' —N.E.D. 45. 14 Mrs. Commodity. Another reference to the method of raising money by 'commodities' ; cf. 10. 21 and note. 45. 19 pil'd, and double pil'd. Peeled, stripped of hair, bald (from the French pox) ; cf. bald thrasher, 45. 25; Meas. for Meas. I. 2. 35 ; also see piled in Schmidt. 45. 31 I'le set you gone. I'll cause you to be gone. 46. 17 I ha' lost a limb in the seruice. Language of the army or navy. Ursula undoubtedly had associated with rough characters of each. The diction of the common people had many, even techni- cal terms of the sea, as is to be seen in Tempest, T. Night, and other plays. Cf. 57. 24 and note. 46. 27 race-Bawd. An unusual combination, apparently sug- gested by race-horse ; ironical as applied to the fat Ursula. 46. 30 Sometimes the cutpurses started street fights or feigned them among themselves in order to secure their 'purchases' in the Notes 179 confusion. Greene in 'A Dispvtation between a Hee Conny-catcher and a Shee Conny-catcher' {Works, 10. 215), describes how a farmer was thus relieved of a purse containing £40; in 10. 180, he describes a similar trick by which a countryman coming to the rescue of a rogue, lost a costly gold chain and purse, stolen by the man he sought to help. 46. 32 Edgworth was an accurate observer and had a shrewd wit; this was true of most of the cutpurses. The gallants were spendthrifts who passed much of their time devising how to raise money. Quarlous and Winwife, though not penniless, felt the need of seeking wealthy matches. 47. I Mallanders. 'A kind of dry scab, growing in the form of lines or strokes over thwart the very bought or inward bent of the knee, and hath hard hairs with stubborne rootes, like swines bristles, which corrupted and cankereth the flesh.' — Markham, Maister-Peece. scratches. 'Long, scabby & dry chappes, or rifts, growing right up and downe, and overthwart on the hinder leggs . . . the Schartches are above the fet-lock.' — Ibid. crowne scabbe. 'A stinking and filthy scabbe, breeding round about the cornets of the hoofe, and is a cankerous and paineful sorrance.' — Ibid. 47. 2 quitter bone. 'A hard round swelling upon the Cronet of the hoofe, betwixt the heele and the quarter, and groweth most commonly on the inside of the foote.' — Ibid. 47' 3~5 The disease alluded to, French pox or syphilis, was extremely common at this time. The Hospitall is of course St. Bartholomew's, on the south side of Smithfield and overlooking the Fair. Traill (3. 564) quotes a statement of William Clowes, a surgeon at the Hospital, 1579, which is important in this connection,; 'It hapneth in the house of Saint Bartholomew very seldome but that among every twentye diseased persons that are taken in, fifteene of them have the pocks.' 47. 7 Windgall. 'The Wind-gal is a little blebbe or bladderful of corrupt jelly, & like the white of an egge, growing on each side of the Master sinew of the leg, hard above the pastorne.' — Markham. Among several remedies suggested by the same author, the following is very similar to Knockem's : 'Take an ounce of white waxe, an ounce of Rozen, two ounces of raw hony, three ounces of Swines grease . . . rubbe them into the Wind-gall, bj^ holding a hot barre of iron against the oyntment, and it wil take the Wind-gal away.' Jonson possessed an astonishing amount of odd and curious knowledge — here it is acquaintance with veterinary science as well as with rogues, their tricks, haunts, and language — indeed surprising with all his classical and philosophical learning. i8o Bartholomezv Fair Knockem, as a Smithfield horse-courser, would know all of the common diseases of horses. Dekker (Lanthorne and Candle Light, chap. lo) tells how those of this profession bought old and diseased horses at a low price, and then by a little doctoring concealed their ailments, and sold the horses as sound. In the same chapter a general characterization of the horse-courser occurs, which well applies to Knockem : 'You shall finde euery Horse-courser for the most part to bee in quality a coozner, by profession a knaue, by his cunning a Varlet, in fayres a Hagling Chapman, in the Citty a Cogging dissembler, and in Smith-field a common forsworne Villaine.' 47. 13 In the character of Overdo and in the ridicule to which he is subjected throughout the play, the satire is directed against the city magistrates as well as the Puritans. Overdo is not a Puritan by profession, but in his impracticable scheme for purifying the Fair, in his abhorrence of tobacco, and, most of all, in his important and affected manner, he showed the characteristics that in those days would commonly class him with the Puritans. The city magistrates, often for the sake of public decency, placed many small restraints on the stage ; and the dramatists in return, as far as they dared, satirized the magistrates. Overdo is apprehensive lest Edgworth, whom he plans to rescue, will be affected by the taint of poetry, after which there will be no hope of him as a commonwealth's man. This, of course, is ridicule. Jonson treats the same theme, but without even this thin disguise, in Ev. Man In, S, where Justice Clement says : 'They [poets] are not born every year, as an alderman. There goes more to the making of a good poet, than a sheriff. ... I will do more reverence to him, when I meet him, than I will to the mayor out of this year.' Cf. 31. 24 ff. and note; also Thompson, The Controversy betzveen the Puritans and the Stage, 120, 206, 208. Overdo's attempted reformation is marked by cant at the very beginning. He saw Edgworth for the first time but a few minutes before, yet already his few hairs are grown gray in his care of the young man. tabacco. Paul Hentzner, a German tutor who visited England in 1598, describes the smoking at the playhouses and elsewhere : 'At these spectacles, and everywhere else, the English are constantly smoking tobacco. . . . they have pipes . . . made of clay, into the farther end of which they put the herb, so dry that it may be rubbed into powder ; and putting fire to it, they draw the smoke into their mouths, which they puff out again through their nostrils, like funnels, along with plenty of phlegm and defluxion from the head.' — Hentzner's Itinerarium, cited by Morley, Mem. 137. Notes i8i 47. 21 As Greene says (10. 103), 'Where so euer there is any extraordinarie resort of people, there the Nippe and the Foist [the cutpurse and the pickpocket] haue fittest oportunity to shewe their iugHng agillitie.' Cf. 40. 22, 65. 12 ff. 47. 25 The Justice quotes from Knockem's 'vapours' (cf. 38. i). 48. 4 a kinne to the Cokeses. Cf. note on 24. 29. 48. 12 Alligarta. From the Spanish el or al lagarto, the lizard. For the various steps by which it became corrupted to alligator, see N.E.D. 48. 18 say, Numps, is a witch. As already has been observed (cf. note on 28. 21), this was a time when England thoroughly believed in witchcraft (cf. Traill, 3. 325 fif., 4. 85 flf.). 48. 26 £f. This sounds very much like King James' Counterblast to Tobacco (1604) : 'Surely smoke becomes a kitchen far better than a dining chamber, and yet it makes a kitchen also oftentimes in the inward parts of men, soiling and infecting them with an unctious and oily kind of soot, as hath been found in some great Tobacco takers, that after their death were opened.' It would be interesting to know how King James felt as he saw the play, and heard this serio-comic denouncer of tobacco utter some of his own arguments published anonymously ten years before. They could hardly escape sharing in the ridicule in which the character who utters them becomes involved. 48. 32 the hole in the nose . . . the third nostrill. Malig- nant syphilis, unchecked, not unfrequently attacks the nose, destroy- ing the bridge and even eating away the whole organ. From Overdo's allusion, it seems that the smokers sometimes gloried in such disfigurement, as enabling them to do special tricks in blowing out smoke from the nostrils. An accomplishment, considered most essential for the Jacobean gallant, was that he should be an artistic smoker. There were professors who made it their special business to teach the ambitious to blow the smoke out in balls, rings, etc. (cf. Thornbury, i. 46, Ev. Man Out, 3. i). 49. S. D. Hee picketh his purse. 'While we were at this show [in Bartholomew Fair] one of our company, Tobias Salander, Doctor of Physic, had his pocket picked of his purse, with nine crowns (ecus du soleil), which, without doubt, was so cleverly taken from him bj' an Englishman who always kept very close to him, that the Doctor did not in the least perceive it.' — Hentzner's Itincrarium, 1598; cited by Rye, 108. 49. 8 basket-hilt, and an old Fox in't. A basket-hilt was formed of narrow plates of steel, following the shape of the hand. Fox was frequently used for sword by contemporary dramatists, as N.E.D. conjectures, originally because of 'the figure of a wolf, on certain sword-blades, being mistaken for a fox.' i82 Bartholomew Fair 49. 10 As there was always a chance that the cutpurse might be suspected and searched, it was very common that he should thus relieve himself and be ready for other work. Women were recog- nized as especially good accomplices. To quote Greene once more (Works, 10. 227) : 'Suppose you are good at the lift, who be more cunning then we women in that we are more trusted, for they little suspect vs, and we haue as close conueyance as you men : though you haue Cloakes, we haue skirts of gownes, handbaskets, the crownes of our hattes, our plackardes, and for a need, false bagges vnder our smockes, where'en we can conuey more closely then you.' 49. 13 what speake I. The use of what for 'why' (^ quid) was very common. Many examples are to be found in Shakespeare. Cf. 23. 10 and note. 49. 24 Streights, or the Bermuda's. 'Cant-names then given to the places frequented by bullies, knights of the post, and fencing masters.' — W. 'These Streights consisted of a nest of obscure courts, allejrs, and avenues, running between the bottom of St. Martin's Lane, Half-moon, and Chandos-street. In Justice Overdo's time, they were the receptacles of fraudulent debtors, thieves and prosti- tutes. Their present frequenters, it is to be presumed, are of a more reputable description. At a subsequent period, this cluster of avenues exchanged the old name of Bermudas for that of Caribbee Islands, which the learned professors of the district corrupted, by a happy allusion to the arts cultivated there, into Cribbee Islands, their present appellation.' — G. Cf. Underwoods, 30: But these men ever want : their very trade Is borrowing; that but stopt, they do invade All as their prize, turn pirates here at land, Have their Bermudas, and their Streights i'the Strand. 49. 25 the quarreling lesson is read. The rapier which had commonly displaced the broad sword came from Spain, but the pro- fessors who taught its use were chiefly from Italy. Though fencing schools were popular, they had a bad name at this time, partly because of the fatal use that knaves and tricksters made of the skill gained at them. In Alcheni. 3. 2, Kastril seeks the Doctor for instruction to 'manage a quarrel upon fit terms'. Cf. As Y. Like It, 5. 4, where the same is also satirized. 49. 29 The length and the dangers attending the voyages to the New World, as well as the poor means there of cultivating tobacco, made its price extremely high. Ursula lets out pipes at three pence a pipe full (35. 28), and Traill (3. 572) says it sold 'for 3 s. an ounce — at least 18 s. of our money.' To gain an idea of what these prices meant, one should compare the laborer's weekly Notes 183 wages ; a skilled workman would average scarcely six shillings, and an ordinary woman would receive about two shillings, six pence (of. Traill, 3. 546). 50. 9 mouth of a pecke. To Dr. Murray, editor of the New English Dictionary, I am indebted for the following note in reply to a personal inquiry : 'We know no sense of peck except that of the measure of capacity, and the vessel in which it is measured, with derived uses such as a "peck of trouble", the proverbial "peck of dirt" that everyone must eat before he dies, etc. Our understand- ing of the passage is that the bawling fellow was said to have a mouth of the capacity of a peck, or which, when open, might be compared to a peck's mouth. . . . Possibly the whole clause means "seized, affected, or afflicted with a mouth of the capacity of a peck", or "with a peck's mouth", this being regarded or spoken of as a disease or seizure. I should take it as a purely nonce figure of speech, which Waspe threw out in his angry invec- tive — The London costermonger is amazingly eloquent in abusive language; so is the cab-driver or omnibus-conductor; you might hear from them in a day fifty striking figures of speech, which you would search for in vain in all your apparatus criticus.' 50. 20 malt-horse. 'A horse employed in grinding malt by working a treadmill or winch ; hence, a slow, heavy horse.' — CD. It is used by Shakespeare as an expression of contempt. 50. 22-23 Elliptic for 'Much good may it do you', etc. 51. 9 sorrow wi'not keepe it. Check or restrain it. 51. 19 In the beating of Overdo, Jonson is resorting to an expedient for pleasing the people, common in Aristophanes, Plautus, and Terence ; with them a beating is always funny. We find the same in the pre-Elizabethan drama; cf. Com. of Errors, 2. 2. 23, 4. 4. 18, etc. ; Woodbridge, The Drama, 56. 51. 24 The Massacre of St. Bartholomew's Day occurred August 24, 1572, when in Paris alone from 2,000 to 10,000 people perished. 51. 26 Patrice. The orator and priest of strolling bands of beggars and gipsies, as the Patrico himself explains in The Gipsies Metamorphosed: Stay . . . For me, that am bringer Of bounds to the border. The rule and recorder. And mouth of your order, As priest of the game, And prelate of the same. 184 Bartholomew Fair ACT III. 52. I ff. Nowhere is Whit's nationality mentioned, but on com- paring his brogue with that found in The Irish Masque a close similarity is evident; we can safely assert that Whit is Irish. There are further two characters in this act who speak in dialect — the Northern Clothier, and Puppy, a Western man. Elsewhere, as well, Jonson has attempted to imitate the speech of certain country- men and foreigners : e. g. Yorkshire, in the Sad Shepherd; Welsh- English, in the Honor of Wales; Dutch-English, in the Masque of Augurs. These are crude efforts at writing in dialect and brogue, but they are not inferior to Shakespeare's. The aim, apparently, was not accurately to reproduce the speech of an Irishman or Welshman, but rather to emphasize the fact that the speakers were foreigners from Ireland or Wales. Their brogue and manners, as regards local color, might well be compared with the non-Italian atmosphere of most of the scenes laid in Rome, Venice, etc. Whit's brogue is reducible to a small number of very simple rules. The vowels are natural, with a few exceptions: Creesh (Christ), meaneteeme (meantime), neet cap (night-cap). Sh, the most com- mon consonantal change, is for s, also for soft c, soft g and /; d, and occasionally t, is for th; p and v are for zv. Cf. Macmorris' speech in Hen. V , 3, also Bryan's in Dekker's 2 Honest Whore. Cf. also Professor Beers' 'Dialect on the Old Stage' in his Points at Issue, N. Y., 1904. Regarding Whit he remarks : T was unable to decide whether he is an Irishman, a Jew, or an Amarugian. He says shentlemens like a modern old-clothes man, vil and vould like a Dickens cockney, or a German trying to pronounce w; in other respects he talks like Shakespeare's and Jonson's Irishmen.' (Pro- fessor Beers has told me since, however, that he has come to the conclusion that Whit was undoubtedly intended for an Irishman; Elizabethan dramatists did not have a special speech for Jews.) Strict observance of the peculiarities of dialect is not common on our stage to-day, and could hardly be expected in Jonson's time. To quote further from the essay already cited : 'The fact doubtless is that the old dramatists' acquaintance with the dialect was super- ficial. They noted a few of its more obvious peculiarities and left the rest to the actor. Indeed, the notation of vowel sounds needs a phonetic alphabet or palaeotype, an instrument of precision far beyond the reach of popular writers, especially in the rudimentary stage of dialect writing in the seventeenth century'. 52. 5 brabblesh. Brabbles or brawls. Is Whit a spy or intelligencer, paid for the number of people whose arrest he can effect? Notes 185 52. 9 you told mee a pudding. Tliis is a play on Haggise's name, and shows from what it was probably derived. A haggis is a kind of pudding, thus described by N.E.D.: 'A dish consisting of the heart, lungs, and liver of a sheep, calf, etc. . . . minced with suet and oatmeal, seasoned with salt, pepper, onions, etc., and boiled like a large sausage in the mouth of the animal. ... a popular English dish in English cookery down to the beginning of the eighteenth century.' If we might apply as well the figurative meaning, 'An indolent, do-nothing fellow', the sense in which Carlyle used the word in 1822, according to N.E.D., its appropriateness as a Jacobean watchman's name would be perfect ; 1. 12 leads us to think that the word may have had also this significance in Jonson's time. 52. 12 the monsters. Since early in Queen Elizabeth's reign, when explorers kept bringing tales of strange people and animals from America, Africa and Asia, the English people had showed a remarkable passion for monsters. Shakespeare satirizes this in the Tempest, 2. 2, where Trinculo says of Caliban : A strange fish ! Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver: there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Among the monsters at the Fair, elsewhere mentioned in our play, were the great hog (74. 22), the eagle, the black wolf, the bull with the five legs, the dogs that danced the morris, and the hare that played on the tabor (118. 4-7). Cf. Ev. Man Out, 5. 4: 'I would have you do this now; flay me your dog presently (but in any case keep the head), and stuff his skin well with straw, as you see these dead monsters at Bartholomew fair.' Alchem. 5. i : Love. What should my knave advance. To draw this company? he hung out no banners Of a strange calf with five legs to be seen, Or a huge lobster with six claws. Morley in his Memoirs of Bartholomew Fair devotes an entire chapter to 'monsters'. 52. 20 Haggise in his pun comes near to suggesting how the name, zvatch, happened to be given to the timepiece ; it is from 'watch, hour of the night, period of time occupied by soldiers, etc. on duty' (Johnson's Univ. Cyc). Thornbury (i. 51) says that watches came to England first from Germany in 1584. They were still uncommon in Jonson's time. The possession and ostentatious wearing of one is part of the grandeur that Malvolio anticipates as he aspires to Olivia's hand (T. Night, 2. 5. 66). 1 86 Bartholomew Fair 52. 29 lack dat shtrikes him. 'A figure made in old public clocks to strike the bell on the outside ; of the same kind as those formerly at St. Dunstan's church in Fleet-street.' — Nares' Gloss. under 'Jack of the Clock'. Cf. Richard III, 4. 2. 113-118. 53. 8 wrought neet cap. Planche tells of the richly embroidered nightcaps of silk or velvet, of this time, and says they were worn during the day by elderly men and invalids. Cf. 1. 14 ; also, Dekker's I Honest Whore, 3. i, where Candido, who is about to go out, says : Fetch me a night-cap: for I'll gird it close, As if my health were queasy. 54. ID As usual, Quarlous is the bolder and more decided of the two. His get you gone, Rascall, is much more virile than Winwife's Ther's tzvelpence, pray thee wilt thou be gone. 54. 32 Babies, male or female. See note on 'Babies,' Prologue. 54. 34 Smithfield, or the field of Smiths. This is to be con- sidered only as evidence of Busy's inspired ignorance. For the origin of the name. Smith-field, cf. Stow's Survey, where Fitzstephen's Descriptio nobilissimae civitatis Londoniae (12th cent.) is cited: 'TTiere is, without one of the gates, immediately in the suburb, a certain smooth field in name and in reality. There every Friday, unless it be one of the more solemn festivals, is a noted show of well-bred horses exposed for sale.' The name 'smooth field' was particularly fitting because of the contrast to the rough fens adjoining. Groue of Hobbihorses. Allusion to the groves, closely connected with idol-worship, many times denounced and inveighed against in the Old Testament. 55- 5 Cf. Odyssey, 12. 166 flf. Busy's allusion is not entirely cor- rect, but the inexactness is not surprising in view of his contempt for the learning of antiquity. 55. ID peele. Peel : 'A kind of wooden shovel with a broad blade and long handle, used by bakers to put bread into or take it out of the oven.' — CD. 55. 18 This manner of decoration was practiced also in the homes. Lemnius, a Dutch physician who visited England in 1560, remarks: 'The better to qualefie and mitigate this heate [in 'soultery hoate weather', or 'dogge-dayes'], it shalbe very good to sprinckle on the pavements and coole the floores of our houses or chambers with springing water, and then to strew them over with sedge, and to trimme up our parlours with green boughes, fresh herbes or vine leaves ; which thing although in the Low Country it be usually frequented, yet no nation more decently, more trimmely, nor more sightly than they doe in Englande.' — Rye, 80. Notes 187 55. 22 a Sringhalt, the Maryhinchco. 'The string-halt, of some cald the Mary-hinchco, is a suddaine twitching up of the Horses hinder legges, as if he did tread upon needles, and were not able to endure his feete upon the ground.' — Markham. 55. 25 de cleane side o'de table-clot. A strong inducement at a public eating-house, when forks were not yet common, and table- cloths were used to wipe greasy fingers and faces (of. Our Eng. Home, 37-47)- 55. 26 phatersh of Dame Annesh Cleare. Somewhat north from Holywell is one other well curved square with stone, and is called Dame Annis the clear: — Stow's Survey, 7. 55. 27 The sale, century after century, of certain sorts of cooked meat seems to have had its origin in the fact that when the Fair was established, as there was but one public eating-house in London, it was necessary to make some provision for strangers. 55. 30 fire o' luniper and Rosemary branches. N.E.D. says that juniper wood was often burned to purify the air. Rosemary having a similar fragrance, would likely be thought to possess that power as well. Knockem wishes to assure Busy and his party that the pigs had been fastidiously cooked. For an incident showing how the pig-booths might be most disgusting, see Morley's Mem. 346. 56. 3 as in Lubberland. With especial reference to this passage, Nares remarks that there was an old proverbial saying about 'Lubber- land, where the pigs run about ready roasted and cry "Come eat me" ' ; and further that this land was 'properly called Lubberland because lubbers only would believe in its wonders.' 56. 8-12 'This passage alludes to a similar place in the Plutus of Aristophanes, where the sychophant scents the good dinner preparing within : 'Ei'Soj' 5' icrrlv (3 /xiapuTdTu TToXi) xPVf^^ Tefj,aQv Kal Kpewv CoirTy^jxivuyv. m U &D vv vv vv &5. [11. 893-895] "Therefore be bold, huh, huh, huh, follow the scent." Lepide Aris- tophanes in pluto inducit sycophantam olfacientem sacrificiorum nidorem, qui totum senarium naribus absolvit : says Vossius on this passage.' — Upton. 56. 16 Come, Win, as good winny here. Whalley says on the authority of Lye, the editor of Junius' Etymological Dictionary, that 'Winny is the same as the old word wonne' (OE. wunian, dwell, remain). 56. 25-26 Cf. note on the Banbury Puritans, 14. 24; 0' the sincere stud is more of Knockem's horsy talk, and means 'of the unmixed breed.' 1 88 Bartholomew Fair 56. 27 Apparently Whit's charge was to induce people to drink heavily (cf. 57. 20-22). As he was by profession a bawd, he would also be on the alert for victims. 57. I what ail they. This is a strange construction but by no means peculiar to our author. N.E.D. says that this intransitive use of ail came from 'mistaking the personal object which in early times usually preceded the impersonal verb, for the subject.' It thus meant: 'To have something the matter with one.' Cf. All's Well, 2. 4. 6 : If she be very well, what does she ail, That she's not very well? 57. 5 The Puritans were always out of style; they were satirized for having 'Religion in their garments, and their hair cut shorter than their eyebrows !' {Ev. Man Out, Induction). Instead of a small printed ruffe, fashionable dress at this time required one so wide that it often had to be supported by wires, such as Stubbes denounced in the following (Anat. of Abuses, 51) : 'They haue great and monsterous ruflfes, made either of Cambrick, holland, lawn, or els of some other the finest cloth that can be got for money, whereof some be a quarter of a yard deep, yea, some more, very few lesse.' 57. 7-13 This is addressed to Ursula and Mooncalf. The supply- ing of 'they are' before good guests makes the meaning plain. 57. 8 set a couple o* pigs o'the board. The original order was for one pig (56. 25, 28). Knockem, by his eloquence in persuading Ursula of the generous appetites of Busy's flock gains added con- fidence, himself. 57. II a stone-puritane, with a sorrell head. More horse-talk referring to Busy. Stone-puritane is in imitation of 'stone-horse', an obsolete or provincial term for stallion. 57. 21 and the sisters drinke. Gififord thinks that a word or two was lost between and and the, perhaps 'see that.' It seems better to consider the passage obscure because of the characteristic brevity of the author, and the bad punctuation of the printer. The only emendation needed is the omission of the comma after brethren, and the insertion of a semicolon after sisters. 57. 24 to lay aboard. A nautical term meaning 'To place one's own ship along side of for the purpose of fighting.' — N.E.D. Cf. 2 Hen. VI, 4. I. 25 : 'I lost mine eyes in laying the prize aboard.' The many sea terms to be found in Shakespeare and Jonson (cf. 46. 17, 98. 23) show how the people of London were influenced by the nation's leading industry; they acquired not a little of the language of the sailors who were always to be seen in the poorer taverns and about the streets. Notes 189 57. 26-27 This is a decided reflection upon the character of the Fair; cf. 27. 4 and note. 57. 29 o'the widdowes Hundred. The Hundred was the early subdivision of a county which had its own court. It is here used figurativelj', = 'class'. 58. 17 peepe out o'the taile of. Result from. 58. 24 i' their dish, i'faith, at night for fruit. With the sweet- meats, the last course. 58. 25 had thought ... to haue reuealed. Cf. 18. 2>7 and note. 58. 28 Much of the humor of the Justice's character consists in the tremendous importance he arrogates to himself and to his office. 59. 5 scabb'd sheep. Troubled with the mange. The shepherd carried tar to anoint the sores. 59. 7 The aldermen's cloaks were of scarlet, worn on state occa- sions as a badge of office. Tliey would be seen on Bartholomew Day at the Fair as the mob wrestled before the Lord Mayor. 59. ID Vt paruis componere magna solebam. From Virgil, Eel. I. 23. Vt is substituted for sic. 59. 22 intend that. Fix the mind on that. Cf. L. intendere oculos, animum, curas, etc. 60. 15 a paire o'smithes to wake you i'the morning. Was this a device to answer the purpose of the modern alarm clock? Perhaps it was similar to the lack dat shtrikes him (cf. 52. 29 and note). 60. 31-32 An allusion to the North American Indians and the conscienceless trades that the whites made with them. 61. 15 you are fine. At least in this play, fine is a much over- worked word (cf. 12. 29; 22. 7, 8; 62. 4; 69. 2; 89. 17; 116. 16; 118. 8). 61. 32 How melancholi' Mistresse Grace is yonder. Cf. note on melancholy, 41. 5. 61. 33 let's goe enter our selues in Grace, with her. A play on her name, in Grace, being an obsolete phrase, equivalent to in favor. 62. 5 More Bartholomew babies. 62. 10 Bobchin. Found also in 78. 12, but an unusual word, perhaps coined by our author. It is made up of Bob, a distortion of 'hobby' -|- chin =: 'kin,' the diminutive. Hence its applicability to the hobby-horse man in 78. 12, and here to Cokes. 62. 12 aboue board. 'In open sight . . . A figurative expres- sion, borrowed from gamesters, who, when they put their hands under the table, are changing their cards.' — Johnson's Diet. 62. 14-16 fiddles. Used interchangeably with violins. A delicate young noise is equivalent to. An exquisitely fine company of young fiddlers. 19° Bartholomew Fair 62. 17 When speaking of masques at weddings Jonson was on very familiar ground. At this time he had produced at least eighteen masques, barriers, and entertainments, some of them for the King. 63. 14 Coriat. Thomas Coryate (iS77?-i6i7) studied at Oxford but left without taking a degree, and then led an aimless life for some years ; on the accession of James I, he became a hanger-on of the court, finding a livelihood as a privileged buffoon. He had an extraordinary memory, and in wit was a match for any of the courtiers. In 1608 he went to Venice and came back through Zurich, Basle and Strasburg, traveling, according to his own reckoning, 197s miles ; much of which distance he covered on foot. He then set to work to write an account of his travels, and in the difficulty of finding a publisher besought friends and even the merest acquaint- ances for commendatory verses, of which he secured an immense number; these Jonson undertook to edit for him. The whole appeared under the name of Coryats Crudities (D.N.B.). Cokeley. 'The master of a motion or puppet-show.' — W. Cf. Epigram 129 : 'Thou dost out-zany Cokely, Pod ; nay, Gue : and thine own Coryat too.' Also Devil is an Ass, i. i : Where canst thou carry him, except to taverns, To mount upon a joint-stool, with a Jew's trump, To put down Cokely. 63. 19 baited the fellow i'the beare's skin. Fleay (Eng. Drama, I- 378) considers this as satirical of Inigo Jones, and refers to the masque. Love Restored: (Robin Goodfellow telling of his difficulty to gain admission) 'I would not imitate so catholic a coxcomb as Coryat, and make a case of asses. Therefore I took another course. I watched what kind of persons the door most opened to, and one of their shapes I would belie to get in with. First I came with authority, and said I was an engineer, and belonged to the motions. They asked me if I were the fighting bear of last year, and laughed me out of that' The present passage seems to refer to some burlesque bear-baiting, perhaps of a puppet-show. No dog euer came neer him since — either because of the vigor of Leatherhead's whip- ping in urging the dogs on to attack the mock bear, or on account of the ferocity of the bear which he had devised. 63. 30 scarfe. 'Scarfs were much worn by knights and military officers in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. . . . Before the establishment of uniforms the scarf was also a sign of company.' — Planche. Cf. Much Ado, 2. i. 198: 'What fashion will you wear the garland of? . . . under your arm like a lieutenant's scarf?' 64. I it stands me in. It has cost me. 64. 10 forty shillings? (twenty pound scotsh). For several centuries the coinage of Scotland had been debased. On the acces- Notes 191 sion of James, the Scotch penny was worth not more than one twelfth of the English. At the time of our play, a decade later, its comparative value seems to have risen to one tenth. James, being the monarch of two kingdoms, had to maintain a double currency (cf. Poole, 131-132). 64. 13 All my wedding gloues, Ginger-bread. Trash's 'Ginger- bread progeny' were baked, some in the mold of a hand, and some in that of a brooch. Brand says : 'The giving of gloves at marriages is a custom of remote antiquity. The following is an extract from a letter to Mr. Winwood from Sir Dudley Carleton, dated London, January, 1604, concerning the manner of celebrating the marriage between Sir. Philip Herbert and the Lady Susan : "No ceremony was omitted of bridecakes, points, garters and gloves." ' In Epicoene, 3. 2, Lady Haughty remarks : 'We see no ensigns of a wedding here ; no character of a bride-ale : where be our scarves and our gloves?' Cf. Calendar of State Papers, Domestic Series, Feb. 10, 1614: 'Mrs. Drummond's marriage cost the Queen 3,000 1. Sam. Danyell wrote a pastoral, solemn and dull. The Lord Mayor and Aldermen were invited the day after, had rich gloves, and gave the bride a cup with 200 Jacobuses.' Beck in his Gloves, their Annals and Associations (London, 1883), 235-238, speaking of the great importance attached to gloves at weddings and legal betrothals, says that they were given not only to all present, but also were sent to those who had any reason to be considered friends or acquaint- ances. 64. 16 I'le ha' this poesie put to 'hem. 'It was formerly the custom to engrave mottoes or posies upon wedding, betrothal and other rings, and books of these mottoes were published. One of these, Love's Garland, appeared in 1624, and again in 1674. In the latter year was also published Cupid's Posies for Bracelets, Hand- kerchers, and Rings, with Scarf es, Gloves, and other things: — Written by Cupid on a day When Venus gave me leave to play. The lover sheweth his intent By gifts that are with posies sent.' Wheatley, Every Man In, 159. 65. 12 There is a sketch by Inigo Jones, entitled the 'Ballet- Singer,' reproduced in Cunningham's Inigo Jones. 65. 18 lime bush. A bush smeared with bird-lime, 'a viscous substance prepared from the inner bark of the holly, Ilex Aquifolium, used for entangling small birds in order to capture them.' — CD. 65. 27 the Messe. 'A set of four ; any group of four persons or things : originally as a convenient subdivision of a numerous company at dinner, a practice still maintained in the London inns 192 Bartholomew Fair of Court.' — CD. Cf. L. L. Lost, 4. 3. 207: 'That you three fools lack'd me fool to make up the mess.' 66. 19 'In Jonson's time scarcely any ballad was printed without a wooden cut, illustrative of its subject. If it was a ballad of "pure love", or of "good life", which afforded no scope for the graphic talents of the Grub-street Apelles, the portrait of "good queen Elizabeth", magnificently adorned with the globe and sceptre, formed no unwelcome substitute for her loving subjects. The houses of the common people, especially those of the distant counties, seem to have had little other ornamental tapestry than was supplied by these fugi- tive pieces, which came out every term in incredible numbers, and were rapidly dispersed over the kingdom, by shoals of itinerant sirens.' — G. 66. 31 Paggintons Pound. This tune more often called Pack- ington's Pound, is to be found in Queen Elizabeth's Virginal Book; also in A New Book of Tablature, 1596; in the Collection of English Songs printed at Amsterdam in 1634; etc. It was a country dance probably composed by Thomas Pagington, one of the musicians retained in the service of the Protector Somerset on the death of Henry VIII, 1547. See Chappell's Collection of National English Airs (London, 1838), i. 71 (for the music), 2. 113 (for the history). 67. I This ballad with a few slight variations is included in D'Urfey's Pills to Purge Melancholy (1719), 4. 20, 'The Cut-Purse. By B. Johnson' ; the music is also given. In the Roxburghe Ballads, edited by J. P. Collier (1847), 271, there is 'A Caveat for Cut-Purses. To the Tune of "Packingtons Pound." ' Collier in his prefatory note makes no mention of Jonson's being the author, although from an allusion he conjectures it must have 'preceded the Restoration, and indeed the Civil Wars.' The noteworthy feature of Collier's 'Caveat' is that following the first five stanzas, the same as found in our play, there are five additional stanzas, quite new ; the first of which is : The Players do tell you, in Bartholmew Faire, What secret consumptions and rascals you are; For one of their Actors, it seems, had the fate By some of your trade to be fleeced of late: Then, fall to your prayers. You that are way-layers, They're fit to chouse all the world, That can cheat Players; For he hath the art, and no man the worse, Whose cunning can pilfer the pilferer's purse. Youth, youth, etc. (The allusion in the first line is probably not to the play, but to the Smithfield Fair). Is the ballad Jonson's, with supplemental verses, Notes 193 or did Jonson take part of a popular street ballad and incorporate it into his play? The former is much more likely; evidence amounting almost to proof, lies in the mention of the hangman Dun in stanza 9. According to Collier (cf. his prefatory note), Derrick occupied that office from the last years of Elizabeth's reign until 1616, and was then succeeded by Dun, who was the hangman for the next thirty or forty years. Hence, the later verses must have been composed some time after the original production of Bartholomezv Fair, 1614. 67. II for and. See Glossary. The warning is no more severe than the punishment that was actually meted out to cutpurses. A hangman by the name of Grot- well, was himself hanged with two others, for robbing a booth in Bartholomew Fair during Henry VHI's time. 67. 18, 19 Greene in The Thirde Part of Cony-Catching (1592), Works, 10. 161-164, gives a very close parallel to the game played by Edgworth and Nightingale. Two rogues took their stand in a crowded place and began singing ballads, which they offered for sale. Their confederates were among the crowd, noting 'where euerie man that bought, put vp his purse againe, and to such as would not buy, counterfeit warning was sundrie times giuen by the rogue and his associate, to beware of the cut-pursse, and looke to their pursses, which made them often feel where their pursses were.' By 'shouldring, thrusting, feigning to let fall something, and other wilie tricks', they secured ten purses. Tlie ballad-singers, however, were suspected; the angry losers turning upon them, beat them well, and had them brought before the justice, before whom they were con- victed as accomplices. Cf. also The Winter's Tale, 4. 4. 605-630, where the rogue Autolycus takes advantage of the close attention given to the shepherdesses' songs to relieve the company of their 'festival purses.' 68. 25 handy-dandy. 'An old guessing game for children in which one player is required to guess in which hand another player has hidden some object.'— S^.D. Cf. Lear, 4. 6. 157: 'Change places; and, handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief?' 68. 28 Cutpurses in the London theatres not infrequently found opportunity for plying their trade when spectators were absorbed in the play. William Kemp in his Kemp's nine days' zvonder narrates that at Burnt Wood while performing his famous morris-dance from London to Norwich (1600), two cutpurses were taken into custody, 'that with other two of their companions followed me from London ; as many better disposed people did. But these two dy-doppers gave out, when they were apprehended, that "they had laid wagers, and betted about my journey." Whereupon the Officers, bringing them to my inn, I justly denied their acquaintance; saving that "I remeni- 194 Bartholomew Fair bered one of them to be a noted cut-purse :" such a one as we tie to a post on our Stage, for all people to wonder at; when at a Play, they are taken pilfering.' — Arber's English Garner, 7. 22. 69. 8 The Rat-catchers charme. Alluded to by many con- temporary writers. It is described by Nares under 'Rats Rhymed to Death' : 'The fanciful idea that rats were commonly rimed to death, in Ireland, arose probably from some metrical charm or incan- tation used for that purpose. Sir W. Temple seems to derive it from the Runic incantations.' Nares refers to many passages where the myth is alluded to, among which are the following: Poetaster, Epilogue to Reader : Rhime them to death, as they do Irish rats In drumming tunes. Staple of Neivs, Interim after Act 4 : 'Or the fine Madrigal-man in rhyme, to have run him out of the country, like an Irish rat.' Very similar is the myth on which Browning based The Pied Piper of Hamelin. 69. 23 In consideration of the immense number of rogues in Lon- don at this time, the term nation is rather appropriately applied to them. 69. 31 he has lighted on the wrong pocket. Quarlous' attention is so concentrated on the purse that he either does not see, or fails to appreciate, that Edgworth in his thoroughness is also relieving Cokes of his handkerchief (cf. 70. 30). For an old woodcut, the subject of which is this particular scene, see Jonson's Works (1716), vol. 4, frontispiece. 70. 5 And kisse not the Gallowes. Cf. 'Kiss the dust'. 70. 22 afore your time. As though of necessity, like a thing appointed by fate. Cokes must sometime show that he is an Asse. Waspe's injunction is that he should not needlessly show himself one. 71. 4 Away Asse, away. This is an ingenious device of Edg- worth's by which Nightingale can withdraw, and by taking the plunder to Ursula, avoid all dangerous consequences, in case that later he should be suspected and searched. 71. II be benefic'd at the Gallowes. i. e. If he should receive as his church-living, the hangman's noose. Cokes (1. 13) carries the figure still further in promising him no satisfaction in his preferment (superior ofiice). 72. 4 An' there were no wiser then I, etc. i. e. If I had my way, the opportunity for losing all your money would be given you; Waspe utters this in a spirit of momentary impatience and disgust. He resumes his plain speech and serious tone again in the next line : I would teach your zvit, etc. Cf. Staple of News, 2. i : 'Cen. Well, Notes 195 an there were no wiser than I, I would sew him in a sack and send him by sea to his princess.' Also 3. 2, where the same character says : 'An there were no wiser than I, I would have ne'er a cunning schoolmaster in England.' 72. II call me Coriat. The point of this allusion rests on Coryate's having started out on a second journey (1612), going to Egypt, the Holy Land, Persia, etc. This tour he announced would be of ten years duration ; he died in 1617, before its conclusion. 72. 19 the danger of concealing. Quarlous' legal studies would acquaint him with this. 72. 24 Catchpoles. Petty officers of justice under the sheriff; they could make arrests. The name had become an expression of contempt. For an interesting account of the origin of the term see Fairholt, Costume in Eng. 288; Fairholt's statement, however, is not supported by N.E.D. 72. 28 flowne him to a marke. See note on 40. 24. 73. 6 read word at my need. This is an allusion to the benefit of clergy. Many not belonging to that class found occasion to use it; Jonson himself escaped by this resort after the murder of Gabriel Spencer (cf. 19. 25 and note). The present passage, then, is equiva- lent to : May I receive no mercy, if ever I should be tried and condemned. 73. 22 disparagement. 'Before the abolition of the Court of Wards in the twelfth year of Charles the Second, the heir of the king's tenant, holding lands in capite, was during nonage ward of the king, who might sell or present the right of guardianship and bestowal in marriage. Kings' favourites had made fortunes by traffic in the marrying of wealthy wards.' — Morley, Mem. 153. 'While the infant was in ward, the guardian, had the power of tendering him or her a suitable match, without disparagement or inequality; which if the infants refused, they forfeited the value of the marriage, valorem maritagii ; that is, so much as a jury would assess, or any one would bona fide give to the guardian for such an alliance.' — Blackstone's Commentaries, 2. 5. 5. 74. 6-7 'There is excellent sense in Grace's answer. She is one of Jonson's few estimable females.' — G. She may be estimable, but she is not winning. The creation of a lovable woman was beyond Jonson's art. 74. 13 is the winde there? Cf. 'Is the wind in that door?' (i Hen. IV, 3. 3. 102), which was a common expression, meaning 'Is that how the case stands?' 74. 21 The Bull with the fiue legs. Again mentioned in 118. 4. See note on 'Monsters', 52. 12. 196 Bartholomew Fair 75. 2 the Pothecaries' wife, . . . that long'd to see the Anatomy. Indicating a prurient curiosity. 75. 4 to spit i' the great Lawyers mouth. Cf. Greene's Mena- phon, 8 (ed. Arber, 1895) : 'Oft haue I obserued what I now set downe; a secular wit that hath liued all daies of his life by what doo you lacke, to bee more iudiciall in matters of conceit, than our quadrant crepundios [empty talkers] that spit ergo in the mouth of euerie one they meet : yet those and these are so affectionate to dogged detracting, as the most poysonous Pasquil, anie durtie mouthed Martin or Momus euer composed, is gathered vp with greedinesse before it fall to the ground.' 75. 13 and cut my haire. 'To express his reformation. Close hair was at this time the distinguishing mark of a Puritan. The subject of Busy's admonition is humorously marked by this inci- dental trait of superstitious attachment to ceremonials.' — G. 75. 17 For long haire, it is an Ensigne of pride. Similarly Stubbes (p. 79) calls the ladies' scarfs, 'flags of pride.' 75. 20 Sathan. W. A. Wright: 'Satan is thus spelt everywhere in Shakespeare. The form appears to have been derived from the Miracle Plays, for I do not find it in the printed translations of the Bible which were in existence in Shakespeare's time' (cited by Furness in T. Night, 226). 75. 24-26 Cf. Epistle of James 3. 15. 76. 3 how her pigge works, two and a halfe he eate to his share. Busy had well fulfilled his promise of eating exceedingly (cf. 30. 36), and in his loathing of ludaisme he had shown no half heartedness. Morley says : 'Tliey [the Puritans] were open also to a charge of gluttony. Zeal-in [of ?]-the-Land Busy ate his two pigs and a half to a dinner' {Mem. 201). But this is taking Knockem's humorous exaggeration too literally; the quantity specified is more than was ordered for the entire party (cf. 57. 8). 76. 31 clapp'd fairely by the heeles. Put in the stocks, 77. 13 Goldylocks. Busy gives this name possibly because of the color of her hair, as in Volpone, i. i, 'goldy-lock'd Euphorbus', but more likely because of her yellow gown ; there is a flower of the buttercup species called goldilocks, mentioned in Pan's Anni- versary. 77. 14 greene sleeues. The sign of a loose woman. Cf. 99. 32 and note. 77. 31 'Busy, in the fury of his zeal, conceits himself a primitive christian, just going to be martyred for his religion: who, amongst the various ways of torture, were often staked upon spears, and forks, or pikes ' — W. Notes 197 78. 3 where we list our selves. Ourselves is the intensive, not the reflexive. 78. 4 loose vs. All other texts have 'lose us'. Lose was often confused with loose (cf. lose, CD.), and may have been the word intended. On the other hand, loose is the reading of the folio and in the sense of 'release' fits the context sufficiently well so as not to warrant the change. 78. 13 what sha* call 'um. Jonson was fond of such compounds. Cf. Ev. Man In, i. 2: 'O, Brainworm, didst thou not see a fellow here in what-sha-call-him doublet?'; Alchem. 2. i: 'Dol, my lord What'ts'hums sister, . . .' ACT IV. 79. 1 Troubleall is entirely a comic character. In introducing a madman, Jonson was but following a convention of the time. For an interesting study of the question of the comic attitude toward lunacy, see Corbin's The Elizabethan Hamlet, London, 1895. Troubleall differs from Shakespeare's Lear, fools, etc., in that his lunacy occasions him no suffering; he never impresses us as pathetic. 79. 7 Oliuer Bristle. 'Bristle forgets his christian name : in a former scene he is called Davy [52. 8]. Perhaps the forgetfulness lies with Jonson. The question is of some importance, but I cannot decide it.' — G. 79. 17 quit you, and so, multiply you. This is Troubleall's favorite expression, for the origin of which I have sought unavail- ingly. Can it in any way be connected with Justice Overdo's court? Prof. G. L. Kittredge of Harvard, in a personal note, says that he regards it as merely a blessing at parting. Cf. 10. 9: because a Mad-man cryes, God quit you, or bless you. Also Hen. V, 2. 2. 166 : 'K. Hen. God quit [absolve] you in his mercy!' 80. II a Seminary. Cf. 32. 17 and note. 81. 7 ff. Haggise's hesitation in keeping his prisoner in the stocks may be explained by the following clause from the City's Annual Proclamation made by the Mayor at the beginning of the Fair : 'And that no manner of person, or persons take upon him, or them, within this Fair to make any manner of arrest, attachment, summons or execution, but if it be done by the officer of this City, thereunto assigned, upon pain that will fall thereof.' — Cited by Walford, 191. Overdo was being held without a warrant, on the charge of an unknown country squire. 198 • Bartholomew Fair 81. 8 a very parantory person. Parantory is probably Haggise's corruption of 'peremptory'. Cf. Alchem. $. 2: And take our leaves of this o'erweening rascal. This peremptory Face. Ev. Man In, i. 4: 'A hanger . . . most peremptory beautiful and gentlemanlike.' Also Ev. Man In, i. i : 'What would you do you peremptory gull ?' On the last, Wheatley observes : 'The word peremptory seems to have been greatly in favor at this time, and used on all occasions.' 81. II Doe I heare ill o' that side, too? A latinism — audire male. The same occurs in Catiline, 4. 6 : 'And glad me doing well, though I hear ill.' 81. 15 bume blew. 'To burn it blue : ? to act outrageously. Obsolete slang.'— A^.£.D. 81. 26 Come, bring him away to his fellow, there, i. e. Place him with the other fellow. Haggise had given the word to release Overdo from the stocks; Pocher coming up just then, saw them working over the lock and supposed that they were but putting Overdo in. 81. 29-33 Busy's boastful zeal sounds very much like that of another of Jonson's Puritans : Tri. Be patient, Ananias. Ana. I am strong, And will stand up, well girt, against an host That threaten Gad in exile. — Alchem. 5. 3. 82. 2 doe ouer 'hem. A play on the Justice's name. 82. 12 out of the word. 'The puritanical phrase for the scrip- ture.' — G. It was used, however, long before the Puritans became known as a party. 83. 2 Guilt's a terrible thing. Cf. Alchem. 5. 1 : 'Nothing's more wretched than a guilty conscience.' Which, as Upton observes, is from Plautus {Mostellaria, 3. i. 14) : 'Nihil est miserius quam animus hominis conscius.' 83. II Dorring the Dottrell. 'To dor the dotterel: to cajole or hoax a simpleton.' — N.E.D. 83. 23 musse. A scramble, as for nuts and pennies among boys ; cf. Ant. and Cleo. 3. 13. 91 : Of late, when I cried 'Ho!' Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth. And cry 'Your will?' 84. 2 Catherne peares. 'Catherine pear. A small and early variety of pear.' — N.E.D. Notes 199 84. 3 for one vnder-meale. There is difference of opinion as to the precise meaning of this phrase. Gifford says : 'For an after- noon's meal, for a slight repast after dinner.' CD.: 'The chief meal of the day.' Nares : 'For one afternoon.' Under-meale is OE. in origin, undefii = middle, intervening, and m&l =z time, time for eating, meal. The time thus designated originally was the middle of the morning, nine o'clock. But it was also used of the middle of the afternoon, and with the indefiniteness naturally associated with a middle or intervening time, was further applied to half-past ten in the morning and to midday. In ME. we find the same loose- ness in its use ; cf. Chaucer, Wife of Bath's Tale, 875 : 'In under- meles and in morweniges' (meaning middle of the afternoon, or afternoons), and Clerk's Tale, 260: 'The tyme of undern of the same day' (meaning middle of the morning). In the present pas- sage it is thus hard to arrive at a definite conclusion; the under- meale may refer to the time, or perhaps as Gifford and CD. are agreed, to the meal at that time. As Grace Wellborn reminded Winwife and Quarlous only a little later (86. 25), that she had known them less than two hours — she had met them at Littlewit's house, before going to the Fair, as many things would indicate, about ten or eleven o'clock in the morning — it can not be long after midday, perhaps one o'clock. 84. 10 salt, onely to keepe him from stinking. 'The same is said of swine by the Stoic Chrysippus, as we learn from TuUy: Stis vero quid habet prceter escani? cui quidem, ne putresceret, animani ipsam pro sale datam dicit esse Chrysippus. De Natura Dear. lib. 2. The application by the poet does not seem out of character.' — W. 'This sentiment is repeated elsewhere by our author, . . . . as scarce hath soul, Instead of salt, to keep it sweet. Devil is an Ass. And by Beaumont and Fletcher: . . . . this soul I speak of, Or rather salt, to keep this heap of flesh From being a walking stench. Spanish Curate.'' -G. 84. 20 Patent . . . hee has of his place. Like the patents of nobility, which conferred the privilege of • monopoly, etc. The carrying of the box, Waspe takes upon himself because of his superior sense and greater carefulness. When he finally discovers that he has lost it (133. 11), his arrogance completely deserts him, and he feels that he has forfeited the right to his office. 20Q Bartholomew Fair 84. 22 a reuersion. A legal term, likely suggested by the figure of the Patent, just preceding; it is used here rather loosely, meaning hardly more than 'possession', or perhaps as Schmidt defines it in Shakespeare, 'Right or hope of future possession or enjoyment.' 84. 27 quoth he. The antecedent of he is not evident. The pro- noun seems to be used in a general sense, the clause being equivalent to 'they call it'. 84. 28 I'le be martyr'd for him, and in Smithfield, too. 'At various times also after the accession of Henry the Fourth, and notably during the famous days of special persecution, women and men were burnt alive as heretics in Smithfield, and a part of the Fair was held over the ashes of the martyrs. One of the first of these martyrs was John Bedby, a tailor, burnt in Smithfield in the year 1410. The martyr fires were usually kindled on that spot of ground outside the Priory gates, over which the lighter portion of Bartholomew Fair spread, the ground occupied by the holiday makers and the tumblers, jesters, and dancers by whom they were enter- tained.' Morley, M^'w. 78-79. It was not until 161 1, only three years before the performance of this play, that the last martyr-fire occurred at Smithfield. 'The victim was Bartholomew Leggatt, a pious Unitarian, burnt for distrust of the Athanasian and Nicene creeds by James the First, at the sentence of John King, newly made bishop of London.' — Ibid. 144. 84. 31 choake-peares. A rough, unpalatable variety of pear. 84. 32 I had bin better ha' gone to mum chance for you. A game of chance played with dice; it is mentioned by Greene (Works, II. 44) as one of the games at which the cony-catcher was especially expert. The predicate of this sentence presents an awkward construction. It may very nearly be paralleled, however, in Shakespeare ; cf. have i) in Schmidt. 85. 20 wrought pillowes there, and cambricke sheetes. Not always had such comforts existed in England, and at this time every- one did not possess them. Harrison (Descript. of Eng. 240), writing in 1577, notes the great improvement in lodgings during his lifetime ; the rough mats of straw 'couered onelie with a sheet, vnder couerlets made of dogs-wain or hopharlots . . . and a good round log vnder their heads', had been mostly done away with. In his father's time 'Pillowes were thought meet onelie for women in childbed.' 85. 21 sweete bags. 'Bags of sweet herbs, or perfumes. They were far from being unnecessary in the bedchambers of those days, and were usually placed under the pillow.' — G. However, cf. note on 55. 18, where from the statement of a Dutch, physician we may judge that the chambers of the English were superior to those found Notes 20I in most of the countries of Europe, and perhaps in contrast, very pleasing. 86. 3 I am no she. 'I am no woman'. This is common in Shakespeare. 86. 1 6 I must haue a husband I must loue. 'I must have a husband that compels my respect', Grace would have said, had she spoken more truly. Just where she fails as a woman, is that she does not love. She is well-born, discreet, respectable, but in emotion is entirely lacking. 88. 8 my word is out of the Arcadia, then: Argalus. The love of Argalus and Parthenia is one of the romances of Sidney's Arcadia. 88. 9 And mine out of the play, Palemon. From Daniel's The Queens Arcadia, according to Fleay; Gifford suggests as a possibility, Edwards' Palemon and Arcite, written much earlier. 89. 18 a Northren Clothier. He is the only representative in our play of the large numbers that came from Halifax, Leeds, Huddersfield, Rochdale, Bury, etc., to bring their fabrics to the great cloth fair of England. Their place of business was within the gates of the old Priory, in the district particularly known as the 'Cloth Fair' (cf. note on 6. 16) ; consequently unless they left their goods and sought the amusements, they would not come within the scope of our play. 89. 19 a Westerne man, that's come to wrastle before my Lord Maior. On the afternoon of Bartholomew Day, the Lord Mayor, attended by the aldermen in their scarlet robes and gold chains, rode to an appointed place in the Fair, where the mob wrestled before them, the victors being rewarded with prizes. Hentzner in his visit to London, 1598, saw and described this custom (cf. Morley, Mem. 138). 89. 21 a circling boy. 'A species of roarer; one who in some way drew a man into a snare, to cheat or rob him.' — Nares. 'Whether this alludes to the mode of surrounding a man, with drawn swords, and driving him from side to side (so familiar to the Mohawks of a later age,) or to the trick of irritating an adver- sary by giving him the lie indirectly, and so as to avoid the necessity of fighting if he manifested a proper degree of spirit, I am unable to decide. Both practices are alluded to by our old writers ; and the last is mentioned in more than one place by Jonson himself [Alchem. 3. 2]. A third species of circling occurs in the next scene: but this has no reference to the passage before us.' — G. 89. 27 with her hood vpright. Tliis had about the same signifi- cance as in termcs of Instice, and the Stile of Authority, and is equivalent to 'With her assumed dignity.' 202 Bartholomezv Fair 90. I Concerning the speech of Puppy and the Northern Clothier, Professor Beers, in the essay already mentioned (cf. note on 52. i), has made some interesting observations : The speech of Puppy is the same as southern dialect, which is that used by the low class characters of The Tale of a Tub, also by Edgar when he assumes the character of a Kentish peasant in King Lear; this was the dialect almost invariably adopted when dramatists wished to imitate the speech of a rustic. Some of its features, as initial v and s for / and s, respectively, are still heard in the peasant speech of Dorset, Somerset, Wiltshire, Berkshire, and Gloucester. (Cf. Thomas Hardy's rustics). The Northern Clothier says meeghty, indicating that the gh was guttural ; / is for T am', a usage which Prince Lucien Bonaparte and others note as a characteristic pre- vailing through the northern counties of England. He uses a for 6 ; but incorrectly Jonson makes him say paiper = piper, and vuU = full, which are southern. Vail Cutting. For a sharp delineation by another pen, see Over- bury's Characters: 'A Roaring Boy'. It is to be noted that even late in the play, Jonson still introduces new characters. We do not see all of the dramatis personce until A. 5, Sc. 3. This accounts in some degree for the loose structure of the play. for a lift. Lift here seems to be equivalent to 'theft', though more commonly it denotes the thief. Cf. Greene's Conny-Catching (Works, 10. 118) for 'The discouery of the Lifting Law': 'Some base roges that lift when they come into Alehouses quart potts, platters, clokes, swords, or any such paltrie trash . . .' go. 3 the eale's too meeghty. Bale (ell), the Clothier's measur- ing stick; the clause is equivalent to 'The measure is too much.' 90. 4 the staggers? ha! Whit, gi' him a slit i'the fore-head, etc. Almost the same remedy for staggers is suggested by Mark- ham, 68. 90. 15 old Flea-bitten, thou'lt neuer tyre. 'This is a familiar observation of the livery stable, "A flea-bitten horse never tires." ' — G. 90. S. D. vapours. See note on 38. 5. 92. 16 will you minde your businesse, Sir? Attend to the securing of the license. 93. 16 conserue the peace. 'Affrays, by which the peace may be broken or disturbed', were forbidden by the Lord Mayor's Annual Proclamation at the beginning of the Fair (cf. note on 33. 9). 93. 31 A play on an obsolete meaning of exceeding: 'Of persons, actions, language, etc. : Overstepping the limits of propriety or custom.' — N.E.D. Notes 203 94. I I would speake with you in circle. I do not know the exact significance of drawing a circle. Evidently with the words accompanying it, an insult or at least a challenge, has been given ; Quarlous recognizing it as such, steps into the ring. After that only a very specious excuse is needed for a fight. 94. II Gather vp. See Glossary. 94. 12 ff. Mrs. Overdo can overdo, as well as the Justice, and the effect is quite as funny. What she proposes here, is to send out against these half-drunk brawlers, the sergeant at amies, whose duty it was to preserve order in the House of Lords and Commons, to execute their warrants, make arrests, etc. ; or cause to be issued a writ of rebellion, given under the royal seal or by some one high in authority. 94. 27 tuft taffata. 'A taffeta woven with a pile like that of velvet, arranged in tufts or spots.' — CD. 94. 28 Adam Scriuener. An evident allusion to Chaucer's poem. 94. 32 Wee be men and no Infidells. This contains a sugges- tion of the contempt and abuse commonly heaped upon the unpopular London watch. They were called anything but men, least of all Christians. 95. 12 brash. Brace. 95. 18 the man with the beard. The bearded face decorating the outside of the mug. Cf. New Inn, i. i : Or at the best some round-grown thing, a jug Faced with a beard, that fills out to the guests. 95. 19 streeke vp hish heelsh. Overthrown him. 95. 20 Gierke o' the Market. 'In every fair there was its own court of prompt justice, or Pie Poudre Court. Proprietors of fairs were authorized also to appoint a clerk to mark and allow weights, and to take reasonable fees.' — Morley, Mem. 22. 95. 21 for my Lords seruice. At this time the third Lord Rich possessed the proprietary rights and shared the tolls of the Fair with the City of London (cf. Morley, Mem. 115-119, 190). 95. 31 and't be'. A meaningless phrase, perhaps elliptical for 'An it be pleasing to thee.' Cf . the common 'An't please thee' ; its use in 1. 36 seems to be this. Whit, though a low character, is attempting to make a good impression on Mrs. Overdo ; here he is laboring to be very polite. 95- 34 P*it vp de cloakes. Whit is bringing the lift to Ursula. He has been concealing the cloaks under his own garment since the time of the melee, when he 'gathered up'. 97- 5 goes forward. Latinism; cf. progredi. 97. 14 fowle i' the Fayre. 'This was a favorite joke of Jonson's and of half the writers of the time.' — Cun. Cf. yy. 7, 106. 4, etc. 204 Bartholomew Fair 97. 17 perswade this, etc. Persuade this woman (Mrs. Little- wit) to become a Bird 0' the game, i. e. a loose woman. 98. II her wiers, and her tires. Wires were used to support the high shapes into which the hair was built (cf. citation from Stubbes in note on 98. 23), also the very wide ruffs, etc. Tires is defined by CD. : 'A coronet or frontal ; an ornament for the head : used loosely for any such ornament considered unusually rich.' 98. 13 Ware and Rumford. Ware, in Herts, twenty-one miles from London, is chiefly famous for the great bed alluded to in T. Night, 3. 2. 51 ; it is also known in literature through Cowper's John Gilpin. Romford (there is no Rumford in England) is an old market town in Essex, on the Colchester road, twelve miles north- east of London. These places were at a convenient distance for a coach ride, and may have been especially frequented by the strolling players. 98. 19 The readiness with which Mrs. Littlewit listens to the beguiling words is somewhat surprising, coming so soon after her alarm at being left alone with two men. 98. 22 as honesht as the skinne betweene his hornsh. ' "As honest as the skin between his brows" was a proverbial expression and I suspect Whit's mis-statement of it is intentional.' — Cun. 98. 23 weare a dressing, top, and top-gallant. The top and top-gallant are of course sailors' terms, and are used here humor- ously by Knockem in alluding to the prevailing fashion of wearing the hair very high. Cf. Stubbes (Anat. of Abuses, 67) : 'Then fol- loweth the trimming and tricking of their heds in laying out their haire to the shewe, which of force must be curled, frisled and crisped, laid out (a World to see!) on wreathes and borders from one eare to an other. And least it should fall down, it is vnder propped with forks, wyers, & I can not tel what, rather like grime sterne monsters, then chaste christian matrones.' Cf. frontispiece of the Abuses, con- taining a picture of Queen Elizabeth. 99. 2 puU'd her hood ouer her eares, and her hayre through it. What could be more tragic than the destruction of Mrs. Overdo's precious French hood ! No wonder that at her next appearance she is hopelessly drunk! 99. 18 Bridewell. A house in Bride Lane built by Henry VHI, for the reception of Charles V. In the following reign, when it was about to be torn down, Bishop Ridley begged it as a Workhouse for the Poor, and a House of Correction 'for the strumpet and idle person, for the rioter that consumeth all, and for the vagabond that will abide in no place.' King Edward VI granted his request. In the reign of Elizabeth and later, the gift occasioned no little incon- venience to the city officials because of the over-appreciation, shown Notes 205 by idle and abandoned people who flocked in great numbers to that vicinity under color of seeking an asylum in the institution. Several acts were passed by the Common Council to stop such annoyance. The flogging at Bridewell, for offences committed without the prison, is described by Ward in his London Spy. 'There are no whores', says Sir Humphrey Scattergood, in Shadwell's play, The Woman Captain, 'but such as are poor and beat hemp, and whipt by rogues in blue coats.' — Abridged from Wh.-Cun. i. 240-243. See Dekker's 2 Honest Whore, 5. 2, for a vivid contemporary picture of the occu- pants of Bridewell. 99. 19 rid that weeke. Were carted for a bawd. 99. 22 shall I teare ruffe, etc. Gifford aptly compares this to Doll Tearsheet's attack on Pistol : 'You a captain ! you slave, for what? for tearing a poor whore's ruff in a bawdy-house?' (2 Hen. IV, 2. 4- 156). 99. 32 Greene-gownes, etc. Nares says : 'The character of lady Greensleeves, I fear, is rather suspicious; for green was a color long assumed by loose women.' He quotes the present passage in support of his statement and refers also to 'the green gamesters' (114. 8). N.E.D. : 'To give a woman a green gozvn : to roll her, in sport, on the grass so that her dress is stained with green; hence euphe- mistically' ; quotations show that it was 'the supposed badge of the loss of virginity.' Cf. 77. 14, 98. 12. loi. 3-6 This offer of a share in the booty was a shrewd move on Edgworth's part. He saw Quarlous' strong qualifications for the cutpurse's profession, and knew that like most gallants he had little money. If Quarlous were already a gentleman cutpurse (cf. loi. 14), he would make a valuable partner in the business; if not, he might be enticed to give it a trial. Finally, it was of the greatest importance that Edgworth should gain his favor, and secure his silence; this he attempted to do with presents that without doubt had been stolen. loi. 14 Facinus quos inquinat, aequat. Cf. Lucanus, Pharsalia, S- 290. 102. 23-26 Discretion is used here three times, and in three differ- ent senses. In 1. 23 = judgment (late L. sense of discretion ; 1. 26 (first occurrence) = prudence (allied to late L. and Rom. discretus) ; 1. 26 (second occurrence) = state of being separated (ancient L. sense of discretio) (cf. N.E.D.) . 102. 29 a hole matter. Evidently a play on hole, the opening in the stocks (cf. 104. 9). There is another word of this form, a variant of 'hoir, meaning 'hollow, empty', which may have given a sec- ondary meaning. 103. 7 the destruction of Fayres and May-games, Wakes, and Whitson-ales. With the exception of the May-games, each of these 2o6 Bartholomew Fair celebrations originated in the Church, but like the drama had passed from under its supervision and control, later to encounter severe opposition. To understand the Puritans' reasons for attack, cf. Brand's Pop. Antiq. (description of the festivities of each) and Stubbes' Anat. of Abuses, 148-154, 182-183. Connected with them, were gatherings of people and considerable license ; and that meant knavery, gluttony, drunkenness, and social impurity. 103. 12 I doe not feele it, I doe not thinke of it, it is a thing without mee. As Gifford observes, the Justice is affecting the lofty language of stoicism. Cf. Epictetus, Encheiridion, i. i : Twi/ tvruv to ^iv iffriv iip'' rjfuv, ra dk ovk e0' rjixiv. 103. 14 In te manca, etc. From Horace, Sat. 2. 7. 84-88. 103. 17 non te quaesiueris extra. From Persius, Sat. i. 7. 103. 23 those lists of Latin, 'i. e. Fag-ends or selvages of Latin.' — Cun. 104. 2-4 Cf. I Cor. 7. 37, 16. 13; Gal. 5. i ; 2 Tim. 2. 19; 2 Pet. 1. 10. 104. 26 earnes. 'Apparently a variation of yearn : OE. geornian : cf. dialectic ear for year.' — N.E.D. It is here used impersonally in the sense of affecting with grief or compassion. Cf. 7. Caesar, 2. 2. 129 : That very like is not the same O Caesar, The heart of Brutus yearns [earnes the reading of , folios I, 2, 3, 4] to think upon! 105. 6 I haue a nest of beards in my Truncke. The trunk-hose was one of the most ridiculous fashions of this faddish age, and may well be compared with the women's monstrous farthingales (see cuts in Planche, 2. 230; CD., under trunk-hose). The immense increase in the amount of stuffing used at this time in the hose, owed its adoption, according to a contemporary writer, to the pusillanimity of James 1, who fearing assassination wore padded garments (cf. Planche, 2. 229). Dekker gives, a hint in regard to their material (2 Honest Whore, 3. 2) : Bell. Where's all his money? Ord. 'Tis put over by exchange ; his doublet was going to be translated, but for me. If any man would ha' lent but half a ducat on his beard, the hair of it had stuffed a pair of breeches by this time. 'Thieves were said to conceal all their plunder in them : poor bullies kept their small wardrobe in the same portable repository'. — Thorn- bury, I. 252. Notes 207 ACT V. 106. I out with the signe o£ our inuention. Striking pictures of the show to be given were displayed to attract the curious. An excellent idea of the puppet-booth's appearance is to be had from a fan sold in the Fair about 1728, on which several booths, among other scenes of the Fair, were depicted. Copies of these pictures are given in Morley's Mem. 394, 395, 396, also in The Book Buyer, 19. 95. The banner, mentioned in 1. 6, was raised after the custom of the theatres, to show a play was either about to begin or already in progress. 106. 3 All the fowle i'the Fayre. Cf. note on 97. 14. 106. 8 Master Pod. Also mentioned as a producer of motions in Ev. Man Out, 4. 4, and in Epigram 97. 106. 9 ff. The motions mentioned here were drolls that had been actually presented at the Fair. Cf. the poem of the 'Long Vacation', included in the first edition of Wit and Drollery, 1656 (cited by Morley, Mem. 318) : . . . man that doth in chest include Old Sodom and Gomorra lewd. . . . And shew that while the puppets play, Though none expounded what they say: And Ape led captive still in chain Till he renounces the Pope and Spain, 106. 12 Shroue-Tuesday was a time of license, and the appren- tices' especial holiday. Thus Dekker says in the Setien Deadly Sinnes (Works, 2. 65) : 'They presently (like Prentises vpon Shroue- tuesday) take the lawe into their owne handes, and doe what they list.' It seems also to have been a custom for the city officials to search out loose women on this day, and to confine them during Lent. Cf. Brand's Pop. Antiq. 1. 89. 106. 13 the Gunpowder-plot, there was a get-penny. Its long- lived popularity is attested by 'Bartleme Fair', a song by George Alexander Stevens, included in Songs, Comic and Satyrical (1772) : Here's Punch's whole play of the gunpowder-plot , sir. Wild beasts all alive, and pease-porridge hot, sir: Fine sausages fry'd, and the Black on the wire; The whole Court of France, and nice pig at the fire. 106. 14 an eighteene, or twenty pence audience, nine times in an afternoone. This affords some interesting information regarding the size of the audiences that witnessed the puppet-shows, also of the length of the performance. 2o8 Bartholomew Fair io6. 17 they put too much learning i'their things now o'dayes. This was the cause of the failure of Catiline three years before, and the doubt as to the success of such a play as Hero and Leander for the same reason may thus have been a thinly veiled satire on the low intelligence of the theatre-going public. Magnin, however, regards this as an allusion to the invasion of the classic repertoire by the puppet-mastei, as he produced adaptations of such plays as Julius Caesar and the Duke of Guise, an act which was regarded with considerable resentment by most of the dramatists (cf. Histoire des Marionnettes, 225). 106. 24 A penny was the general charge of admission to such performances. 107. 5 The Justice in his overdoing would imitate the Hebrews' Jehovah. 107. 12 strucke in. Arrived, come in. 108. 19 the second part of the society of Canters. 'Canters were confirmed sturdy vagrants.' — Cun. Cf. Staple of News, 2. i : A rogue A very canter, I sir, one that maunds Upon the pad. The name was also used for a talker of religious cant, and during the seventeenth century was especially applied to the Puritans (cf. N.E.D.). Both ideas are included in the word as used here. 108. 29 to draw feasts, and gifts from my intangled suitors. Had she been portrayed when practicng her mercenary craft, we might have had a female Volpone. 109. 7 Feoffee in trust. 'A trustee invested with a freehold estate in land.'~A''.£.D. III. 6 reducing the young man . . . from the brinke of his bane. A Latinism ; see reduce in Glossary. III. 12 Master of the Monuments. It is likely that Cokes had caught a glimpse of the pictures on the outside of the booth (cf. the signe of our inuention, 106. 2), and here is referring to them. We must not probe too deep for meaning in the words of the phantasicall Cokes. III. 16 The ancient moderne history of Hero, and Leander. 'This is a burlesque on the absurd titles of some of our ancient dramas ; but more particularly on that of Preston's "A lamentable Tragedy of the life of King Cambyses, mixed full of pleasant mirth", etc.'— G. 111. 20 Bankside. See note on 7. 13. 112. 7 voluntary. Commonly used for 'volunteer'; one who, for services willingly undertaken, is given special privileges. Hence in Notes 209 the present case, free admission to Littlewit, because of his author- ship. 112. 12 you are exceeding well met. A form of salutation common in Shakespeare. Cf. As Y. Like It, 3. 3. 65, Mer. Wives, I. I. 200, M. N. Dream, 4. i. 181. 112. 15 and by that fire. Fire of hell. 113. 3 Call me not Leatherhead. Lest the name should lead Cokes to recognize the hobby-horse seller who had cozened him out of thirty shillings (cf. 64. 4). 113. 6 ff. Cokes' manners may well be compared with Dekker's satirical advice as to 'How a Gallant should behaue himself in a Play-house' (The Guls Horn-Booke, chap. 6) : 'By sitting on the stage, you may (without trauelling for it) at the very next doore aske whose play it is : and, by that Quest of In'quiry, the law war- rants you to auoid much mistaking. . . . You shall put your selfe into such true scaenical authority, that some Poet shall not dare to present his Muse rudely vpon your eyes, without hauing first vnmaskt her, rifled her, and discouered all her bare and most mysti- call parts before you at a tauerne, when you most knightly shal, for his paines, pay for both their suppers. By sitting on the stage, you may (with small cost) purchase the deere acquaintance of the boyes : haue a good stoole for sixpence : at any time know what particular part any of the infants present : get your match lighted, examine the play-suits lace, and perhaps win wagers vpon laying tis copper, &c.' Further, cf. Collier's Annals of the Stage, 3. 406-18. 113. 9 our Tiring-house is Somewhat little. As Ordish notes (E. London Theatres, 225), this with the Stage-keeper's remark in the Induction, to the effect that the Poet had kicked him three or four times about the tiring-house, may be satirical of a deficiency in the green-room accommodations in the new theatre. 113. 19 the quality. 'Profession, occupation, business, esp. that of an actor'. — N.E.D. 113. 26 Players minors. Children-players. 113. 32 one Taylor, would goe neere to beat all this company. As Ordish observes (E. London Theatres, 225), this is an allusion to Taylor the Water-Poet, who a few days before had sustained the fiasco of a wit-combat with Fennor. The full particulars may be found in Taylor's Works, 142, under the title: 'TAYLORS RE- VENGE: or. The Rimer WILLIAM FENNOR, firkt, ferrited, and finely fetcht ouer the Coales.' 113. 34 and eate 'hem all, too, an' they were in cake-bread. 'This allusion to the voracity of tailors for cake-bread, must have conveyed some pleasant idea to the audiences of those times, of the nature of which we are now ignorant, since it is found in most of our old dramas.' — G. 2IO Bartholomew Fair 114. 4 your Field. Nathaniel Field, the actor and dramatist, 1587-1633. His name is the first mentioned in the lists of actors in Cynthia's Revels, 1600, the Poetaster, 1601, and Epicoene, 1609 (of. 1616 folio) ; according to Fleay he was a member of Lady Elizabeth's company, ,1613-14. Jonson is here paying him a high compliment in associating his name with that of the leading actor of the time, Richard Burbage. A similar place was given him fifty years later by Richard Flecknoe in his Short Discourse of the English Stage : 'In this time were poets and actors in their greatest flourish; Jonson and Shakespeare, with Beaumont and Fletcher, their poets, and Field and Burbage, their actors' (cited by D.N.B.). There is a reference to him in the Prologue of Chapman's Bussy D'Ambois (printed 1607) : 'Field is gone, whose action first did give it name — .' In the Conversations (1619) Jonson says of him: *Nid Field was his scliollar, and he had read to him the Satyres of Horace, and some Epigrames of Martiall.' ' 114. 8 green gamesters. See note on 99. 32. 114. II at large. Fully. 114. 13 fieere, nor geere, nor breake iests, as the great Players doe. The actors commonly took great liberties with the text of a play and did not hesitate to insert local hits. A great deal of the power of Tarlton on the stage, as well as off, consisted in his quickness at extempore wit. See Tarlton's Jests in Shakespeare Jest-Books (London, 1864) : 'A jest of an apple hitting Tarlton on the face', 'How Tarlton and one in the gallery fell out', etc. 114. 21 shakes his head like an hostler. An allusion to William Ostler, the actor, according to Fleay. His name is mentioned in the list of actors in the first folio, as playing in the Poetaster, 1601, Alchemist, 1610, Catiline, 1611. So little is known of him, however, that it is speculative to call the present passage an allusion. 114. 22 according to the printed booke. The reference is to Marlowe's Hero and Leander (1598), which begins: On Hellespont, guilty of true love's blood. In view and opposite two cities stood, Sea-borderers, disjoined by Neptune's might; The one Abydos, the other Sestos hight. At Sestos Hero dwelt; Hero the fair, . . . 115. 2 Puddle-wharf e. Now called Puddle Dock, at the foot of St. Andrew's Hill, Upper Thames Street, Blackfriars. 115. 4 old fish-street. No longer existing under this name; the eastern portion was lost in the making of Queen Victoria Street, and the rest was merged into Knight-Rider Street. Cf. Stow's Survey, 129: 'In this Old Fish street is one row of small houses. Notes 211 placed along in the midst of Knightriders street, which row is also of Bread street ward: these houses, now possessed by fishmongers, were at the first but moveable boards (or stalls), set out on market- days, to show their fish there to be sold.' Trigsstayers. The Stairs have disappeared, but the name still survives in Trig Lane and Trig Wharf. This was the nearest land- ing in going up Old Fish-street Hill to Old Fish Street. 115. 12 Hero shall be my fayring. Hero shall be my treasure (favorite). Cokes puts on the gallant's patronizing airs, and to show his familiarity with the actors, gives them pet names suggested by the different treasures he has bought. 116. 12 I doubt. I fear. 116. 16 fine fire-works. Cf. Alchem. i. i: And blow vp gamester after gamester, As they do crackers in a puppet-play. In speaking of fireworks in London during the reign of James I, Strutt says (Sports and Pastimes, 375) : 'So far as one can judge from the machinery delineated in the books formerly written upon the subject of firework making, these exhibitions were clumsily con- trived, consisting chiefly in wheels, fire-trees, jerbs, and rockets, to which were added, men fantastically habited, who flourished away with poles or clubs charged with squibs and crackers, and fought with each other, or jointly attacked a wooden castle replete with the same materials, or combated with pasteboard dragons running upon lines and "vomitting of fire like verie furies".' 116. 32 This is a very priuate house. Among the general features of the private theatre, as noted by Collier (cf. Hist, of Eng. Dram. Poetry j 3. 335), were the smaller size, protection of the whole by a roof, seats in the pit, and an audience of much higher character. Thus in the first three points, the puppet-booth was, indeed, like a private theatre, though it is only as a bit of humor that Edgworth speaks of it as such to the credulous Win. 116. 34 doe so all to be Madame mee. Cf. Cynthia's Revels, 4. i: Ods my life, how he does all-to-hequalify her ! Also Magnetic Lady, i. i : ' . . . and all-to-be-laden with miracles.' 117. 2 The masks and green gowns disguised the women, and by preventing the Justice from recognizing them at this time, made possible the final surprise. Masks were not uncommon in 1614, but were by no means the convention of the following reign, when a woman seen at a public occasion without a mask was considered barefaced and immodest. Cf. Jonson's lines, 'To Mr. John Fletcher upon his Faithful Shepherdess': 212 Bartholomew Fair The wise, and many-headed bench, that sits Upon the life and death of plays and wits, (Compos'd of gamester, captain, knight, knight's man, Lady or pucelle, that ivears mask or fan. 117. 27 will stay for nere a Delia o'hem all. An allusion to Samuel Daniel's sonnet-cycle Delia, published in 1592, which was for a long time very popular. Fleay considers the character of Littlewit as satirical of Daniel, but there is little ground for such a conjecture. He is mentioned twice in the Conversations (1619) : 'Samuel Daniel was a good honest man, had no children; but no poet'; 'Daniel was at jealousies with him.' 118. 6 Vxbridge Fayre. Held at Uxbridge, fifteen miles north- west of London. The custom of taking exhibits, curiosities, and shows from one fair to another seems to have been common, just as to-day in the New England village fairs. 118. 36 In addition to the discussion already given to the Puppet- play (see Sec. 3 of Introduction), something may be said on the metho3 of performance. There were two kinds of plays; the first, in which the 'interpreter' gave a running commentary on the action, all in his own person, — for examples see the motion in Tale of a Tub, A. 5, or better Don Gayferos and Melisandra in Don Quixote, part 2, chap. 26; the second, in which the interpreter, disguising his voice or using ventriloquism, gave the dialogue as though spoken by the puppets — our play is an example of this latter class. Leatherhead is without question the motion-master in Hero and Leander, but there is a difference of opinion in regard to the operation of the puppets. Thus Flogel in his Geschichte des Grotesk-Komischen, 126, says: 'Ein zweites Puppenspiel, welches Ben Johnson's Bartholomew fair beschliesst, ist dagegen ganz verschieden, denn hier sprechen die Puppen selbst, d.h. durch einen hinter den Coulissen versteckten Mann, der iibrigens eben so gut wie der, welcher vor der Biihne befindlich ist, den Namen Interpreter fiihrt'. But Collier {Punch and Judy, 20) remarks on the same play : 'The exhibitor standing above and working the figures, "interprets" for them, and delivers the burlesque dialogue he supposes to pass between the characters.' Now while the method of performance most generally employed required an assistant, concealed in the puppet-booth, to work the figures and speak the dialogue, in the present play Leatherhead, to use his own words, is 'the mouth of them all' ; it is he who does the talking, and the text makes quite as evident that he is visible to the audience. Flogel in his explanation, then, is incorrect. But, on the other hand, in considering Collier's theory, it should be remembered that the puppets twice assault Leatherhead, strike his pate, and cry 'to pink his guts', making it evident that he is not Notes 213 standing wholly above them. The only practical way of operating the puppets, consistent with the hints given in the text, requires that Leatherhead stand within the booth, his head and shoulders appearing behind and above the stage, and that from this position he perform his twofold labor. 118. 37 amorous Leander. Cf. Marlowe: Amorous Leander, beautiful and young, (Whose tragedy divine Musaeus sung,) Dwelt at Abydos. 119. 7 seeing Leanders naked legge, and goodly calfe. Cf. Marlowe : His body was as straight as Circe's wand ; Jove might have sipt out nectar from his hand. Even as delicious meat is to the tast, So was his neck in touching, and surpast The white of Pelops' shoulder: I could tell ye, How smooth his breast was, and how white his belly. 119. 8 a Sheepes eye, and a halfe. Nares : 'To cast a sheep's eye, to look amorously or wantonly.' Cf. Cartwright's Ordinary : If I do look on any woman, nay. If I do cast a sheeps eye upon any. (cited by Nares). 119. II Cole, Cole, old Cole. 'Bartholomew Fair was first acted in 1614, and yet we have an allusion to this part of it in the Satiro-mastix, which appeared in 1602 : "Horace. I'll lay my hands under your feet, Captain Tucca. Tucca. Says't thou me so, old Cole. Come, do it then: yet, 'tis no matter, neither; I'll have thee in league first with these two rollypollies; they shall be thy Damons and thou their Pithiases." Act i. As Horace is known to be meant for our author, there can be no doubt, I think, that the reference was to this interlude of Damon and Pithias : it would seem, therefore, that it had been exhibited at an early period as a simple burlesque and that Jonson was induced by its popularity to recast it, and with the addition of Busy and some other characters, to interweave it with the present drama. However this be, the idea of introducing it was most happy, the execution at once skillful and diverting, and the success complete. Old Cole is used by Marston in the Malcontent (1604), which is dedicated to our author ; the term therefore must have been familiar to the stage : another proof, perhaps, of the celebrity of this little piece, at a period long anterior to Bartholomew Fair.' — G. Later in the Satiro-mastix-, Horace is called the 'puppet-teacher'. 214 Bartholomew Fair 120. 4 Swan. Probably a tavern in Old Fish Street. It is not to be identified with the 'Swan', Charing Cross, much frequented by Jonson, but nearly a mile distant. 120. 21 Hogrubber. 'Hog Grubber: A mean stingy fellow.' — Lex. Balat. Pickt-hatch. A noted resort of prostitutes and pick-pockets, at the back of the narrow turning now called Middle Row, opposite the Charter House wall. Cf. 'Character of the Persons' preceding Ev. Man Out : Shift. 'A thread-bare shark ; one that never was a soldier, yet lives upon lendings. His profession is skeldring and odling, his bank Paul's, and his warehouse Pict-hatch.' Also Mer. Wives, 2. 2. 20. Middleton laid the scene of his Black Book at Pict-hatch, and it is probable that the satirist Nash died there. 120. S. D. The Puppet strikes him ouer the pate. The puppet- sculler with his coarse language and violent manners, is representa- tive of the three thousand and more watermen who plied the Thames. Cf. Thornburyj i. 59: 'The waterman, or water-rats, as they were called in jest, were greater extortionists than our own cabmen, diligent and civil till they got a passenger into their boat, but scurrilous and violent if their unjust charge of fare was refused. If the passenger were a servant or an apprentice, they would stop his hat or cloak for the money ; their pay being two-pence out of every twelve they could get. Sometimes they caught a tartar, got their heads broke, and their proper fee refused. They used to sit in noisy knots on the water stairs, waiting for fares, and disputing for them when they came. . . . They were famous for their coarse wit, and were formidable by their number and spirit of cooperation.' 121. 4 hee shall be Dauphin my boy. Cf. Lear, 3. 4. 104: 'Dolphin my boy'; Furness {Variorum ed.) cites a note by Steevens on an old ballad, of which this was the burden. 121. 16 'It was the fashion not only for the puppets of the text, but for those of flesh and blood, to introduce themselves to strangers with a propitiatory cup of wine, which preceded their appearance. There is a story told of bishop Corbet and Jonson which illustrates this practice, and is at the same time so characteristic of both, that it has every appearance of being genuine. "Ben Jonson was at a tavern, in comes bishop Corbet (but not so then) into the next room. Ben Jonson calls for a quart of raw wine, and gives it to the tapster. ^Sirrah !' says he, 'carry this to the gentleman in the next chamber, and tell him I sacrifice my service to him.' The fellow did and in those terms. 'Friend,' says bishop Corbet, 'I thank him for his love, but prithee tell him from me that he is mistaken, for sacrifices are always burnt.' " Mery Passages and leasts. Harl. MSS., No. 6395.'-G. Notes 215 121. 25 a dead lift. 'A desperate emergency.' — CD. 121. 26 a nine dayes wonder. 'A subject of astonishment and gossip for a short time, generally a petty scandal.' — CD. Cf. Chaucer's Troilus, 4. 588 : For when men han wel cryed, than wol they roune ; A wonder last but nyne night never in toune. 122. 5 pufFe with him. 'Vapor', bully him. 123. 5 Gifford sees in this squabble a burlesque on that of Jack and Wj'lle in Damon and Pithias. The resemblance, however, is so slight as to make it highly improbable that our author had this in mind. The scene referred to has not a decided enough character to make it a good subject for burlesque. 123. 20 with a hone and honero. Cunningham cites a manu- script note of Dyce's, 'This was uttered, I imagine, in a lamentable tone, in imitation of an Irish howl.' Cf. An Bartholomew Fairing, a Royalist pamphlet of 1649, quoted by Morley {Mem. 198) : Stand off, make room, give way, for I come Post, My Fairings do run wild from the Irish Coast; Poor Cram a Cree untrouz'tl, O hone .' O hone ! Hath lost his cows, his sheep, his Bagh, all's gone. 124. 13 setting their match. Making their appointment. Cf. I Hen. IV , I. 2. 119. 124. 15 a candles end. Cf. Marlowe: [Hero] Who with all speed did consecrate a fire Of flaming gums and comfortable spice, To light her torch, which in such curious price She held, being object to Leander's sight That naught but fires perfum'd must give it light. 124. 26 Dunmow-bacon. Diuimow is a small village of Essex, 'formerly the seat of a priory remarkable for the custom of present- ing a flitch of bacon to any couple who could satisfy a jury of six bachelors and six maidens that they had spent the first year of married life in perfect harmony, and had never at any moment wished they had tarried.' — Encyc. Brit. The custom dates from the reign of John. It was revived in 1855 (cf. Chambers' Book of Days, I. 748). 124. 28 Westphalian you should say. Cf. Marston's Malcon- tent, 4. I : 'The buff-captain, the sallow Westphalian gammon-faced zaza cries "Stand out." ' Westphalian ham and bacon are still celebrated. 125. I Sir Knaue out of dore. This is very similar to a line of Edwards' Damon and Pithias (Stephano to Carisophus) : 'Out, sir knave, or I wyll send yee.' 2i6 Bartholomew Fair 125. 16 Puppet-Ionas and Cupid. Cupid inserted for rime; only one puppet (cf. 123. 35). 126. I Downe with Dagon. Cf. i Samuel 5. 2-5 ; also a broad- side written about 1660 (cited by Morley, Mem. 235) : 'The Dagoniz- ing of Bartholomew Fayre caused by the Lord Majors Command, for the battering downe the vanities of the Gentiles, comprehended in Flag and Pole, appertayning to Puppet-play. . . .' 126. 17 Shimei. Cf. 2 Samuel 16. 5-13. 126. 18 Master of the Reuell's haud. After 1606 all plays before production had to undergo examination of the Master of Revels (cf. Fleay, Hist. Eng. Stage, 166). 126. 21 thou dost plead for Baal. Cf. Judges 6. 31. 126. 23 I haue gaped as the oyster for the tide. Gifford remarks: 'A satire upon the low, familiar, and profane jargon of the Puritans in their public prayers and preaching. A specimen of it is given by Eachard in his Contempt of the Clergy. "Our souls are constantly gaping after thee, O Lord, yea, verily, our souls do gape even as an oyster gapeth." ' 126. 26 Good Banbury-vapours. See note on 14. 24. 127. 17 assist me zeale, fill me, etc. Busy's invocation of the muse. 127. 28 lawful! Calling. Cf. Ephesians 4. 1-4. 128. 3-10 Coleridge notes: 'An imitation of the quarrel between Bacchus and the Frogs in Aristophanes' (cf. Frogs, 258-264). Selden commented on this same passage in his Table Talk, 164 (ed. Oxford, 1892) ; he regarded it as satirical of the heated controversies of the divines, where arguments of similar weight were bandied between them. 128. 21-25 The Puritan feather-makers of Blackfriars were the subject of much satire. Cf. Randolph's Muse's Looking Glass, i. i* Mrs. Flotvarde'w. Indeed it something pricks my conscience I come to sell 'em pins and looking-glasses. Bird. I have their custom too for all their feathers: 'Tis fit that we, which ar€ sincere professors, Should gain by infidels. Marston's Malcontent, Induction : 'This play hath beaten all our gallants out of the feathers : Blackfriars hath almost spoiled Black- friars for feathers.' 128. 22 perrukes. Not to be confused with the long periwigs, very fashionable beginning with the reign of Charles IL The perukes of 1614 were false hair worn by men and women, as occa- sionally to-day ; the term was also applied to a single lock or a set of ringlets. Actors wore them; cf. T. G. of Ver. 4. 4. 196, Com. of Errors, 2. 2. 76, Hamlet, 3. 2. 10. Stubbes (Anat. of Notes 217 Abuses, 68) tells of poverty-stricken women selling their hair, also of pretty children lured into secret places and robbed of their locks. 128. 23 puffes. 'A strip of some fabric gathered and sewed down on both edges, but left full in the middle.' — CD. Cf. Coryate's Crudities, i. 41 (ed. 161 1, reprinted London, 1776) : 'The Switzers weare no Coates, but doublets and hose of panes, intermingled with Red and Yellow, and some with Blew, trimmed with long Puffes of Yellow and Blewe Sarcenet rising vp betwixt the Panes.' their fannes. Made of a few large feathers or plumes, and used merely for ornament. Cf. Gosson's Pleasant Quippes for Upstart Gentle Newfangled Gentlewomen (1596) : Were fannes, and flappes of feathers fond. to flit away the flisking flies, As taile of mare that hangs on ground, when heat of summer doth arrise. The wit of women we might praise. For finding out so great an ease. But seeing they are still in hand, in house, in field, in church, in street. In summer, winter, water, land, in colde, in heate, in drie, in weet, I judge they are for wives such tooles As babies are in playes for fooles. 128. 32 Dagonet. Evidently a perversion of Dagon of the pre- ceding line. Concerning the legendary person of this name, cf. Nares : 'Sir Dagonet was said to be the attendant fool of king Arthur. . . . "And upon a day sir Dagonet, king Arthur's foole, came into Cornewaile, with two squiers with him." Hist, of K. Arthur, 4to, 1634, 2d p., N2.' See Tennyson's The Last Tournament. 128. 35 and the Female of the Male. This would seem to indi- cate that there were women-actors at this time, and Fleay in his notes on Bartholomew Fair has queried, 'Who were they?' How- ever, the fact that in the many attacks made by the Puritans on the stage, in which they constantly denounced the male actors for putting on the dress of women, they did not allude to the reverse, is good proof that such was not a custom. Deuteronomy 22. 5 suggests an explanation of Busy's charge : 'The women shall not weare that which pertaineth unto a man, neither shall a man put on a woman's garment : for all that do so are abomination unto the Lord thy God.' Only one half of the verse applied to the general practice of the stage. It was thoroughly in keeping, however, with Busy's zeal and inspired ignorance to use the whole verse and make the charge a double one. On February 28, 1615, John Selden wrote to Jonson about this same passage in Deuteronomy, undoubtedly with reference to the present allusion. The letter covers four large folio pages and 2i8 Bartholomew Fair exhibits an erudition that is almost appalling (of. Works, London, 1726, 2. 1690-1696) ; it begins : 'Thus ambitious am I of your love, but of your judgment too. I have most willingly collected what you wished, my notes touching the literal sense and historical of the holy text usually brought against the counterfeiting of sexes by apparell.' In these notes Selden shows that the verse was not intended to apply to actors or plays, but to forbid certain magical or idolatrous rites, such as practiced in the worship of Dagon, Astarte, etc., when often the males appeared in female dress, and females in male. See also Selden's Table Talk, 134, note. Prynne in Histrio-Mastix devotes thirty-nine pages to the sin of the 'womanish and effeminate apparel' of the stage (see small quarto ed. 1633, p. 178 ff.) ; also citation in Stubbes (p. 303) from R. Cleaver's Exposition of the Ten Commandments. 129. 13 I am confuted. 'It appears from D'Urfey that this defeat of the Rabbi was a source of infinite delight to the audience. The triumph of Dionysius, however, was of a transient nature ; and he was confuted, in his turn, with more effectual weapons than those of "demonstrations". This is beautifully touched by Lord Buck- hurst, in the epilogue to Tartuffe : Many have been the vain attempts of wit Against the still prevailing hypocrite: Once, and but once, a poet got the day, And vanquished Busy in a puppet play! But Busy rallying, filled with holy rage, Possessed the pulpit, and pulled down the stage.' — G. 129. 19 carryed it aw^ay. 'Carried the day.' — N.E.D. Cf. Ham- let, 2. 2. 2>77 ■■ Guil. O, there has been such throwing about of brains. Ham. Do the boys carry it aivay? 129. 22 I Adam Ouerdoo! All editions subsequent to the first folio insert 'am' after /. But a comma following /, makes the emendation quite unnecessary. 130. S. D. To the Cutpurse, and Mistresse Litwit. The stage directions placed in the margin of the 1631 folio are carelessly writ- ten, and evidently not by Jonson. / xvill take charge of you, and your friend too, the punctuation notwithstanding, can only have been addressed to the supposed Troubleall and Dame Purecraft. The remaining clause beginning you also, young man, is spoken to the cutpurse; Mrs. Littlewit is not addressed, being reserved for a later 'discovery'. 130. 10 with our birds. Cf. 97. 18. 130. 19 stepp'd aside. Wandered and become lost; not the common figurative significance of departing from the path of right. Notes 219 130. 22 Et digito compesce labellum. Equivalent to 'Be silent.' From Juvenal, Sat. i. 160: 'Cum veniet contra, digito compesce labellum.' 130. 23 sadly worry. Sorry in earnest. Cf. Chaucer's Ship- man's Tale, 76; Much Ado, 2. 3. 228. 131. 9 looke vpon mee, O London. Is not the overdoing, over- done? 131. II Mirror of Magistrates. See note on 9. 31. 131. 27 Redde te Harpocratem. Equivalent to 'Commit your- self to secrecy.' This figure was common among the Latin poets. Cf. Catullus, Carmen, 74. 4: 'Patruum reddidit Harpocratem'; also 102. 4. Harpocrates (Horus) was the Egyptian god of the sun, the son of Osiris. He was said to have been born with his finger on his mouth, indicative of secrecy and mystery (Smith's Class. Diet.). Cf. 130. 22 and note. 131. 28 stand by my Masters, be vncouer'd. As though he were leading some stately procession, and called upon the people to remove their hats at the approach of the dignitary. Perhaps he had this phrase from Justice Overdo's court. 132. 24 I should think it were better, recouering the goods, and to saue your estimation in him. A poor construction for the author of The English Grammar. 132, 25 I thank you, Sir, for the gift of your Ward. In this point of the denouement Jonson suddenly breaks away from the extreme realism which so strongly characterizes the play. In no law court would the signature of the guardian. Justice Overdo, gained in the way it was, be considered binding. The successful trick may well be compared with the forfeiture of the bond in The Merchant of Venice. 132. 32 neuer feare me. Never be apprehensive for me. Cf. L. iimere alicui. 133. 2 like a stake in Finsbury. Finsbury Fields, the open tract north of Moorfields, much more extended than at present. They were long kept open and entire for the practice of archery, and later became the grounds for the muster and exercise of the military company. While yet open, they were marked out for the use of archers with wooden posts for target or standing practice, and with stone pillars for long practice or roving. — Abridged from Wh. Cun. Cf. D'Avenant's The Long Vacation in London : « Do each with solemn oath agree, To meet in fields of Finsbury : With loins in canvas bow case tide; Where arrows stick, with meikle pride. • 2 20 Bartholomew Fair 133. 3 get your wife out o'the ayre. Remove your wife from public exposure; (there possibly may be a suggestion of the literal as well: i. e. get her out of this air — the foul air of the booth). The same phrase is to be found in Hamlet, 2. 2. 209; also cf. 1. 185 of the same scene, where Hamlet advises Polonius in regard to his daughter : 'Let her not walk i' the sun' (Let her not be exposed to, or mingle with, the world). 133. 18 I inuite you home, with mee to my house, to supper. The ending with a general invitation to dinner or supper, is com- mon; perhaps it was suggested by the Roman comedy; cf. Plautus' Rudens, Curculio; also Alchem., Devil is an Ass; Middleton's A Trick to catch the Old One, A Mad World, My Masters, A Chaste Maid in Cheapside. 133. 20 Ad correctionem, etc. Cf. Horace, Epist. i. i. 100: 'Diruit, aedificat, mutat quadrata rotundis.' Also Sallust, Catiline, 20. 12 : 'Nova diruunt, alia sedificant.' The Epilogue. On the day after its first performance, or Novem- ber I, 1614, Bartholomew Fair was presented at Court before the King. It would be interesting to know if it pleased James. It is evident from the Prologue that Jonson counted on touching a sym- pathetic chord at least in the satire of the Puritans. But how was the ridicule of popular reformers, embodied in Overdo's preachment on tobacco, among his other extravagancies, received by the author (was it still a secret?) of the Counterblast to Tobacco? Was there no offense taken at the humiliation of the city magistrate? Was it recognized as a jest at the expense of the Lord Mayor? As one considers these very natural questions, a passage in the Conversa- tions appeals strongly to the imagination ; Drummond says : 'To me he read the preface of his Arte of Poesie, upon Horace ['s] Arte of Poesie, wher he heth ane Apologie of a play of his, St. Bartholomee's Faire.' Unfortunately the Apology was destroyed by fire, and no other reference to it remains. Bartholomew Fair was revived after the Restoration and became extremely popular. The celebrated actors, Nokes and Wintersel, in different presentations, took the part of Cokes. Pepys saw it several times, and was present on the first occasion of its new production, June 8, 1661, when it was played without the puppet- show. On September 7 of the same year, in the presence of the King, the entire play was given. Pepys, who was among the audi- ence, notes : 'And here was "Bartholomew Fayre", with the puppet- show acted to-day, which had not been these forty years (it being so satyricall against Puritanism, they durst not till now, which is strange they should already dare to do it, and the King do counten- Notes 221 ance it), but I do never a whit like it the better for the puppets, but rather the worse'. Somewhat different is his observation as he saw it three years later (August 2, 1664) : ' . . . as it is acted, the best comedy in the world, I believe'. His final judgment, however, seems to be that already cited in the Introduction ; it is to be found in the entry for September 4, 1668, when he saw it played still again — this time in order to humor Mrs. Pepys: 'It is an excellent play; the more I see it, the more I love the wit of it; only the business of abusing the Puritans begins to grow stale, and of no use, they being the people that, at last, will be found the wisest'. 222 Bartholomew Fair GLOSSARY This glossary aims to include all words that are archaic, obsolete, colloquial, cant, etc. Words, however, that Jonson used in a peculiar sense merely for the nonce, as well as many others, unusual to the general reader, yet to be found in standard dictionaries as in good use, are dealt with in the Notes. Etymology is adduced only when it throws light on a peculiar form, or illustrates Jonson's classical tendencies. At least one reference is uniformly cited, indicating the page and line where the word occurs in the text. A, prep. In some one's name. 76. 17. Aduance, v. To extol. 79. 29. Aduis'd, pp. Reflected. 81. 9. Againe (against), prep. In an- ticipation of. 12. 19. Conj. Against the time that, before that. 60. 28. Agone, adv. Ago. 32. 16. Allow, V. [L. adlaudare.] To commend, approve. 134. 2. Allurant, a. Alluring, enticing. 9. 14. Amaze, v. To perplex, bewilder. 88. 31. Amended, pp. Healed, cured. 55- 22. Ames-ace, n. Ambs-ace, both, aces, the lowest possible throw at dice. II. II. Anatomy, n. A body or subject for dissection. 75. 3. And, conj. If. 5. 24; 6. 14. Angerly, adv. Angrily. 23. 8. Argument, n. A subject-matter for discussion. 59. 21. Artillery, n. Implements of war ; in a broad sense including swords, pikes, etc. 112. 29. At, prep. To. 72. 10. Aunt, n. An old woman, gossip. 36. 34; 37- 7- Avoyd, V. To go away. 48. 20. Baboun, n. A baboon. 46. 19. Baby, n. A doll, 'Prologue' (cf. note). Bason, n. A basin. 132. 11. Beadle, n. The public whipper. loi. 12. Bickering, n. A skirmish. 126. 25- Bile, M. [ME. bile, from OE. byl.] A boil. 81. 15. Bird, n. A familiar character haunting a certain place. 5. 14 ; 34. 8 (cf. note on 5. 14). Blacke pot, n. A beer-mug. 32. 2. Blood, n. A 'buck', a 'fast' or foppish man. 56. 25. Booke-holder, n. A prompter. 6. 23. Braue, a. Finely-dressed, grand. 47. 27 ; 48. I. Bridale, n. A wedding feast. 18. 31- Glossary 223 Bride-man, n. One of the young men who with the bridesmaids as- sisted in the ceremonies of a wed- ding. 64. 15. Bring, v. To escort. 81. 26. Broach, v. To pierce, stab. 28. 25- Broke, v. To trade. 19. 11. Broker, n. A pander, pimp, in- termediary. 45. 4. Bumm, n. The buttocks. 102. 5. Carroch, «. A stately coach. 60. 23. Carwhitchet. n. A pun, quibble. 106. 5. Cawdle, n. Caudle. 18. 8. Censure, n. Judgment, criticism. 8. 4. V. To judge, criticise. 8. 10. Chapman, n. A customer, mer- chant. 42. 9. Cheap, Cheapen, v. To bargain for. 60. 25 ; 63. 2. Circling boy, n. A swaggering bully. 89. 21 (cf. note). Commit, v. To match, bring to- gether in a contest. 127. 22. Commodity, n. A quantity of wares. 10. 21 (cf. note). Conceit, n. An idea, device. 30. 2. Conceipt, An opinion. loi. 23. Conceited, pa. Whimsical. 5. 10. Condition, conj. On condition that. 121. 29. Conscience, n. Sense, no. 30. Conuince, v. [L. convincere, to overcome.] To overcome, over- power. 12. 2. Come, n. A hard grain or par- ticle. 12. 17. Costard-monger, n. A vender of fruit ; commonly applied to a seller of apples, but here of pears. 'Persons of the Play.' Couer, V. To copulate with (ap- plied to stallions). 96. 17. Countenance, n. Appearance, pretense. 126. 13. Counterpaine, n. The counter- part of an indenture (Law). 7- lO- Coyle (coil), n. Bustle, fuss, turmoil. 20. 27; 26. 26. Cracke, v. To boast. 71. 36. Crowne scabbe, n. A disease of horses. 47. i (cf. note). Cry, V. To beg, beseech for. 102. 13. Cunning man, n. A fortune- teller. 14. 6 (cf. note). Dead, a. Having lost its virtue. 23- 10. Death, interj. More often, 'Sdeath' ; a corruption of the oath, 'God's death.' 51. 16. Delicates, n. pi. Luxuries, de- lights. 13. 8. Detect, V. To expose (a per- son) by making known his guilt. 72. 18. Dibble, n. 'PMoustache' (N.E.D.). 38. 28. Dier, n. Dyer. 115. 2. Discipline, n. The system by which the practice of a church is regulated, especially applied to that of the Puritans. 28. 9. Discretion, n. Judgment. 38. 23 ; 102. 23. Disease, n. Uneasiness, discom- fort. 29. 20. Disparagement, n. Marriage to one of inferior rank. 73. 22 (cf. note). Dor, zr. To make a fool of. 83. II. Drollery, n. A comic play, pup- pet-show. 9. 19. 224 Bartholomew Fair Earn, v. To grieve. 104. 26 (cf. note). Eder-oder (either other), pro. One or the other. 117. 11. Enuy, V. To begrudge. 13. 8. Equall, 0. [L. cBquns.] Fair, just. 88. I. Equipage, n. Dress, state. 9. 9. Errant, a. Arrant. 19. 11. Exceeding, pa. 'Overstepping the limits of propriety, or custom' (N.E.D.). 93- 31- Except at, v. To take exception to. 43. 12. Fall, V. To settle down : used of anything heated or swollen. 43. 28. Fall in, Become reconciled. 16. 27. Famelick, a. [L. famelicus, hungry.] Pertaining to hunger. 56. II. Faucet, n. A contemptuous ap- pellation for a tapster. 34. 20. Fidge, V. To fidget. 25. 3. Flasket, n. A shallow basket. 77. 18. Flaw, V. To make drunk. 123. 34- Flea, V. To rid of fleas. 35. 6. Flead, pp. [OE. flean, to flay.] Flayed. 61. 30. Flower-de-lice, n. The fleur-de- lis. 48. 35- For, prep. With respect to. 14. 32. For and, conj. And moreover. 67. II. Fore-right, adv. Directly for- ward. 54. 23. Fore-top, n. 'The lock of hair which grows upon the fore part of the crown, or is arranged ornamen- tally on the forehead' (N.E.D.). 98. 24. Forme, v. To state formally, loi. 21. Forsaken, pp. Refused, rejected. 88.6. Fox, n. A sword. 49. 8 (cf. note). Game, n. Amorous sport. 'Per- sons of the Play.' Gamester, n. A merry, frolic- some person. 'Persons of the Play.' Garded (guarded), pp. Edged with lace, or protected by facing. 43- 7- Gather, v. To address to flight: used of a hawk. 69. 30; 94. 11. Geere, n. Stuff. 44. 4 (cf. note). Geere, v. To jeer. 114. 13. Gentles, n. pi. Gentlefolks. 122. 8. Get-penny, n. Anything that brings money, especially a new play. 106. 13. Gib-cat, n. A male cat. 22. 29. Gip, inter). 'Get out.' 23. 20 (cf. note). Glister, n. A clyster; an intes- tinal injection. 21. 8. Gods so, inter}'. An oath, fre- quently written 'ods so', from 'od- zooks', a corruption of 'God's (Christ's) hooks', referring to the nails of the Cross. 63. 3. Gossip, n. [OE. godsibb: god, God, and sib, related. From the original meaning, sponsor, came a second meaning, a familiar acquaint- ance, and from this, the common significance of to-day.] Companion, fellow. 12. 23; 82. 3. Gouernour, n. 'One .who has charge of a young man's education, occupations; a tutor, especially of a prince or young noble' (N.E.D.). 72. 27. Graines, n. pi. 'The capsules of Amomum Meleguetta of Western Glossary 225 Africa used as a spice and in medi- cine' (N.E.D.). 90. 8. Gramercy, interj. Many thanks. 96. 28. Ground, n. The pit. 6. 27. Hanch, n. A haunch. 125. 12. Hand, n. Condition. 22,. 5. 'Heart, interj. An oath, con- tracted from 'God's heart.' 48. 13. Hight, pp. Called. 114. 29. History, n. A story represented dramatically, iii. 17. Honest, a. Chaste. 17. 15. Home-thumb, n. 'A horn on the thumb . . . used to receive the edge of the knife with which purses were cut' (Morley, Mem.). 38. II. Hornsh (horns), n. pi. 'Cuck- olds were fancifully said to wear horns on the brow' (N.E.D.). 98. 22. Horse-courser, n. A jobbing dealer in horses. 'Persons of the Play.' Hoy-day, interj. Hey-dey. 16. 34- Huff, n. Arrogance. 128. 23. Humor, n. A characteristic mood. 5. 13. I, interj. Aye. 14. 10; 19. 4. lacobus, n. The current (but not official) name of an English gold coin, struck in the reign of James I ; valued at about 20 s. (N.E.D.). 94- 4- lewes trump, n. Jews' harp. 62. I. Ignorant, n. An ignorant per- son. 108. 17. Impertinently, adv. Contrary to reason. 87. 7. To no purpose. lOI. 18. Inconuenience, n. An absurdity. 42. 25. Incubee, n. [A distortion of in- cubus.] A term of reprobation. 35- 22. Inginer, n. A designer. 33. 16. InoviT, a. Enough. 27. 7. Into, prep. Unto, to. 5. 23. loll, n. [MnE. jowl.] 'Seems to have been the established word for a fish's head' (Cun.). 44. 12. lordan, n. A chamber-pot. 95. 36. loy, V. To give joy to. 76. 3. Itch, z/. [Var.oieche,MnE.eke.] Itch it out = eke it out. 35. 30. lusticer, n. One who admin- isters justice. 81. 9. Kemb'd, pp. Combed. 15. 3. Knocking, pa. Forcible, deci- sive. 59. 12. Knot, n. A flower-bed of fanci- ful design. 34. 24. Leave, i'. To cease. 17. 16. Leere, a. Looking askance, leer- ing. 9. 8. Lesse, conj. Unless. 68. 18. Lien, pp. Lain. 122. 19. Lift, n. A theft. 90. i (cf. note). Like, V. To be agreeable to, please. 64. 8. Lime-hound, n. A dog used in hunting the wild boar; a limmer. 15- 17- Lincke, n. Lint. 17. 18. Lye (lie), z/. To dwell. 84. 36. To sleep. 113. 24. Mallanders, n. A disease of horses, affecting the skin of the legs. 47. I. Mart, n. Traffic. 40. i. Maruell, a. Marvellous. 82, 25. 226 Bartholomew Fair Mary, interj. The ME. form of the oath, 'marry.' 23. 20. Maryhinchco, n. A disease of horses. 55. 22 (of. note). Meditant, a. Meditating. 9. 12. Meet, a. Even. 37. 29. Melicotton, n. A large kind of peach. 13. II. Mickle, a. [OE. micel.] Great. 106. 19. Mis-take, v. To take wrongly, steal. 36. 5 (cf. note). Moderate, v. To act as mod- erator. 18. I. Moneth, n. [OE. mdna'S.'\ Month. 31. 27. Monster, n. A thing to be won- dered at, a prodigy. 52. 12. Motion, n. A puppet-show; motion-man, The exhibitor. 27. 20. Mum chance, n. A game of hazard. 84. 32 (cf. note). Murther, n. Murder. 51. 30. Musse, n. A scramble, as for nuts and pennies among boys. 83. 23- Neere, adv. Nigher. iii. 22. Neighbour, n. An intimate, companion. 103. 36. Noise, n. A company of musi- cians, especially of fiddlers. 62. 15. Od's foote, interj. An oath, cor- rupted from 'God's (Christ's) foot.* 99- 12. Of, prep. For. 77.9- On. 81.9. Offer at, v. To make an attempt at, essay. 58. 2. On, prep. Of. 5- 8. For. 12. 8. Ouerparted, pp. Given too diffi- cult a part. 61. 11. Painefull, a. Painstaking, labo- rious. 14. 25. Pannier-man, n. 'In the inns of court, formerly a servant who laid the cloths, set the salt-cellars, cut bread, waited on the gentlemen in term time,' etc. (CD.). 45. 9. Patience, n. Sufferance. 17. 31. Patrico, n. The hedge-priest or orator of a band of gypsies or beg- gars. 51. 26. Perssv^ray, v. To mitigate. 48. 24. Pick-packe, n. Something on the back or shoulders like a pack. so. S.D. Pinnace, n. A prostitute or pro- curess. 35. II. Pitch'd, pp. Transfixed. 22. 33. Pizzle, n. The penis. 118. 5. Plouer, n. A loose woman. 97. 16. Poesie, n. A motto or senti- mental conceit, frequently engraved on a ring or other trinket. 64. 16. Pothecary, n. An apothecary. 21. 8. Proffer, v. (Law) To offer to proceed in an action. 73. 26. Prophesie, v. To preach, ex- hort. 30. 36. Pull'd, pp. Plucked, cheated. 84. 16. Punque, n. A prostitute. 6. 9. Purchase, n. Plunder, booty. 40. 17; 46. 30. Quaile, n. A prostitute. 97. 17. Quality, n. The profession of an actor. 113. 19. Quib, n. A quip, gibe. 11. 17. Quiblin, n. A quibble. 11. 14. Quitter bone, n. A disease of horses. 47. 2 (cf. note). Raze, V. To erase. 109. 22. Reduce, v. [L. reducere, to lead back.] To lead or bring back. III. 6. Glossary 227 Respectiue, a. Respectable, worthy of respect. 16. 34. Retchlesse, a. Reckless. 72. i. Right, a. Genuine. 18. 10. Roarer, n. A bully, a swagger- ing tavern-frequenter. 'Persons of the Play'. Roguy, a. Knavish. 22. 36. Roundell, n. One of the round holes in the stocks. loi. 35. S'blood, interj. An oath, cor- rupted from 'God's (Christ's) blood'. 48. I. S'lud. 42. 23. S'lood. 86. 6. Scabbe, w. A mean, dirty fel- low. 122. 24. Scape, V. To escape. 11. 14. Scourse, v. To trade, swap. 60. 20. Scratches, n. A disease of horses. 47. I (cf. note). Scarchant, a. 'Searching: a jocose word formed after the her- aldic adjectives in ant' (CD.). 9- 13- Sent, n. Scent. 15. 18 (cf. note). Set in, V. To make an attack. 65. 10. Sincere, a. [L. sincerus, sound, pure.] Pure, unmixed. 56. 26. Sirrah, n. Fellow : used in anger or contempt. 36. i. Skinke, v. To draw, pour out. 36. I. 'Slid, interj. An oath, contracted from 'God's eyelid'. 12. 23. Gods' lid. 59. 24. S'light, interj. An oath, con- tracted from 'God's light'. 47. 21. S'lood, {v. S'blood). S'lud, {v. S'blood). Spic'd, pp. Made fastidious or dainty. 18. 30. Splene, n. Mood. 19. 9. Spoile, n. Ruin. 106. 18. S'pretious, interj. An oath, con- tracted from 'God's precious (body, blood, or nails)'. 23. 16. Stain'd, pp. Impaired. 16. 5. Stale, V. To urinate : said of horses and cattle. 100. 13. State, n. An estate. 18. 9. S[t]ringhalt, n. 'An irregular, convulsive action of the muscles of the hind legs in the horse' (Billings, Nat. Med. Diet.). 55. 22. Superlunaticall, a. Extremely insane. 131. 17. Sute, n. A suit. 49. 31. Tabacconist, n. One who smokes tobacco (not the seller). 48. 26. Tables, n. pi. A pocket tablet, memorandum-book. 87. 21. Take, v. To give or deliver. 22. 36. Tarriar, n. A delayer. 26. 35. Taw'd, pp. Flogged. 99. 17. Taxed, pp. Censured. 31. 3. Then, conj. Than. 14. 36. Thorow, prep. Through. 62. 13. Thrid, n. Thread. 32. 4. To, prep. For. 56. 29. With. 73- 17- Token, n. A farthing. 39. 15 (cf. note). Tokenworth, n. A farthing's worth. 13. 30. Touch, V. To rob. 89. 13. Toy, n. A fancy, caprice. 63. 9. Trauell, n. An effort, labor. 41. 10. Trendle tayle, n. Trundle-tail; a curly-tailed dog. 45. 11. Trillibub, n. Tripe; fig., any- thing trifling or worthless. 17. 7. Trow, V. To suppose, think. 63- 23. 228 Bartholomew Fair Tuft taffata, n. An expensive dresscloth. 94. 27. Tyring-house, n. The dressing- room. 6. 5. Valour, n. [ME. valour, from late L. valor = value.] Value, worth. 102. 27. Vapour, n. and 7/. (See note on 38. 5). Vnder-meale, n. A time of the day. 84. 3 (cf. note). Vndertake, v. To engage with. 127. 8. Voluntary, n. One admitted without charge. 112. 7 (cf. note). Vpon, adv. At once, anon. 5. 2. Prep. Against. 14. 17. Waimb (womb), n. [OK.wambj the belly.] Belly, stomach. 92. 19. Whether, pro. Which. 22. 11. Witnesse, n. A sponsor. 18. 35. Wrastle, v. To wrestle. 89. 19. Wusse, V. [Early MnE. dial. form of wis.] 'A spurious word, arising from a misunderstanding of the Middle English adverb iwis, often written i-wis, and in the Mid- dle English manuscripts i wis, I wis, whence it has been taken as the pronoun I with a verb wis, vaguely regarded as connected with Tifit' (CD.). 21.8; 67. 21. Zeale, n. Zealot. 19. 12. Bibliography 229 BIBLIOGRAPHY Abbott, E. A. A Shakespearian Grammar. L. 1891.* Analytical Index to the Series of Records known as the Remembrancia. Preserved among the Archives of the City of London. A.D. 1579- 1664. L. 1878. Arber, Edward. An English Garner. 8 v. Birmingham, 1883. Aronstein, Ph. Ben Jonson's Theorie des Lustspiels. (Anglia, 17. 466- 485, 1895.) AsHTON, John. A History of English Lotteries. L. 1893. Baedeker, K. London and its Environs. L. 1887. Bailey, N. An Universal Etymological English Dictionary. L. 1721. Bartholomew Fair. (Blackwood's Magazine, 14. 259-262, 1823.) Bartlett, John. A Concordance to Shakespeare. L. 1894. Bates, K. L., Godfrey, L. B. English Drama. A Working Basis. Wellesley College, 1896. Baumann, H. Londinismen (Slang und Cant). Worterbuch der Lon- doner Volkssprache. Berlin, 1902. Beers, H. A. Points at Issue. N. Y. 1904. Besant, Walter. London in the Eighteenth Century. L. 1902. Boas, Frederick S. The Works of Thomas Kyd. Oxford, 1901. Boulton, W. B. The Amusements of Old London. 2 v. L. 1901. Brand, John, Ellis, H. Observations on the Popular Antiquities of Great Britain. 3 v. L. 1848-9. Century Dictionary. 6 v. N. Y. [1889-91]. Chambers, E. K. The Mediaeval Stage. 2 v. Oxford, 1903. Child, F. J. The English and Scottish Popular Ballads. 5 v. Cambr. [1883-94]. Coleridge, S. T. Literary Remains, (ed. H. N. Coleridge) 4 v. L. 1836-9. Collier, J. P. (ed.) The Diary of Philip Henslowe. L. 1845. The History of Engli.sh Dramatic Poetry to the Time of Shakespeare ; and Annals of the Stage to the Restoration. 3 v. L. 1831. Cunningham, P., Planche, J. R., Collier, J. P. Inigo Jones. Life, Sketches, and Court Masques. L. 1848. Cutts, E. D. a Dictionary of the Church of England. L. [1887]. D'Avenant, William. Works. L. 1673. Dekker, Thomas. Non-Dramatic Works, (ed. Grosart) 5 v. [L.] 1884-6. 'Abbreviations— L., London; N. Y., New York. 2C3* Bartholomew Fair Dictionary of National Biography. 63 v. L. 1885-1901. D'Urfey, Thomas. Wit and Mirth: or Pills to Purge Melancholy. 6 V. L. 1719 (Reprint of 1872). Ebsworth, J. W. (ed.) Choyce Drollery: etc. (Reprint of ed. 1656) Boston, Lincolnshire, 1876. Merry Drollery Compleat, etc. (Reprint of ed. 1691) Boston, Lincolnshire, 1875. Fairholt, F. W. Costume in England. L. 1846. Tobacco : its History and Associations. L. 1859. Fleay, F. G. a Biographical Chronicle of the English Drama. 2 v. L. 1891. A Chronicle History of the London Stage. L. 1890. Flogel, K. F. Geschichte des Grotesk-Komischen. (Revised by Ebeling) Leipzig, 1862. Franz, W. Shakespeare-Grammatik. Halle, 1898-1900. Fuller, Thomas. The History of the Worthies of England. L. 1662. Gardiner, S. R. A Students' History of England. L. 1898. GossoN, Stephen. Pleasant Quippes for Upstart Newfangled Gentle- women. L. 1841. Green, J. R. History of the English People. 4 v. N. Y. 1878-1880. Greene^ Robert. Life and Complete Works. (Grossart, ed.) 15 v. [L.] 1881-1886. Grose^ F., Astle, T., &c. The Antiquarian Repertory. 4 v. L. 1807-9. Grose, F. Lexicon Balatronicum. A Dictionary of Buckish Slang, etc. L. 1811. Hall, Joseph. Apology of the Church of England against the Brownists. Oxford, 1863. Harrison's Description of England in Shakespeare's Youth. Parts i and 2. (ed. Furnivall) L. 1877-8. Harting, J. E. Bibliotheca Accipitraria. A catalogue of Books, Ancient and Modern, Relating to Falconry, etc. L. 1891. Hunt, Leigh. Men, Women, and Books. 2 v. N. Y. 1847. James I, King. A Counterblast to Tobacco. (Hindley's Old Book Collector's Miscellany, 2. 5-24. L. 1872.) Jonson, Ben. Editions of his Works. See Introduction, Sec. i. KiNGSLEY, Charles. Plays and Puritans, (in his Sir Walter Raleigh and his Time, etc. Boston, 1859.) Laing, David, (ed.) Notes of Ben Jonson's Conversations with William Drummond of Hawthornden. L. 1842. Larwood, J., HoTTEN, J. C. The History of Signboards. L. 1867. Maetzner, Edward. An English Grammar, (trans, by Grece) 3 v. L. 1874- Magnin, Charles. Histoire des Marionnettes en Europe. Paris, 1862. Markham, Gervase. Maister-Peece. L. 1651. Bibliography 231 Marsden, J. B. The History of the Early Puritans. 2 v. L. 1853. Meredith^ George. An Essay on Comedy and the Uses of the Comic Spirit. N. Y. 1897. MoRLEY, Henry. Memoirs of Bartholomew Fair. L. 1859. Nares, Robert. Glossary, (ed. Halliwell and Wright) 2 v. L. 1859. Neal, Daniel. The History of the Puritans. 3 v. L. 1837. New English Dictionary. (Murray, Bradley, Craik, eds.) A — O. Oxford, 1888 [1884] — . Nichols, John. King James' Progresses. 4 v. L. 1828. Ordish, T. F. Early London Theatres. L. 1894. Shakespeare's London. L. 1897. Our English Home: Its Early History and Progress. Oxford, 1861. OvERBURY, Thomas. Miscellaneous Works, (ed. Rimbault) L. 1856. Pepys, Samuel. Diary, (ed. Wheatley) 9 v. L. 1893-9. Planche, J. R. Cyclopedia of Costume. 2 v. L. 1876-9. Plautus. Comedies, (trans, by Riley) 2 v. 1887-90. PooLE, Stanley Lane, (ed.) Coins and Medals. L. 1892. Punch and Judy. [Dialogue ed. by Collier] Illustrations by Cruik- shank. L. 1873. Rye, W. B. England as seen by Foreigners. L. 1865. Schelling, F. E. (ed.) Jonson's Timber. Boston, 1892. Jonson's Eastward Hoe and the Alchemist. Boston [1903]- Schlegel, a. W. Dramatic Art and Literature, (trans, by Black) Philadelphia, 1833. Schmidt, Alexander. Shakespeare-Lexicon. Berlin, 1902. Sidney, P. The Defense of Poesy, (ed. Cook) Boston, 1898. Smith, Albert. A little talk about Bartholomew Fair. (Bentley's Mis- cellany, 12. 390-394. 1842.) Smith, William. Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology. 3 v. Boston, 1849. Standard Dictionary. 2 v. N. Y. 1893-5. The Statutes of the Realm. Printed by command of his Majesty King George the Third. 1819. Stow, John. The Annales of England. L. 1592. Annales . . . continved ... by Edmvnd Howes. L. 1631. A Survey of London, written in the year 1598. (ed. Thoms) L. 1842. Strutt, Joseph. The Sports and Pastimes of the People of England. L. 1834- Stubbes, Phillip. The Anatomic of Abuses, (ed. Furnivall) L. 1877-82, Swinburne, A. C. A Study of Ben Jonson. N. Y. 1889. Symonds, J. A. Ben Jonson. N. Y. 1886. Taylor, John. Works. L. 1630. 232 Bartholomew Fair Terence. Comedies, (trans, by Patrick) 2 v. Dublin, 1810. Thompson, E. N. S. The Controversy between the Puritans and the Stage. N. Y. 1903. Thornbury, G. W. Shakspere's England. 2 v. L. 1856. Thorne, James. Handbook to the Environs of London. 2 v. L. 1876. Traill, Henry D. Social England. 6 v. N. Y. 1894-7. Walford, Cornelius. Fairs, Past and Present: A Chapter in the His- tory of Commerce. L. 1883. Ward, Adolphus W. A History of English Dramatic Literature. 3 v. L. 1899. Wheatley, Henry B. (ed.) Ben Jonson's Every Man in his Humour. L. 1877. Wheatley, Henry B., Cunningham, P. London, Past and Present, &c. 3 v. L. 1891. Woodbridge, Elisabeth. The Drama : Its Law and its Technique. Boston, 1898. Studies in Jonson's Comedy. Boston, 1898. Wright, Thomas. Dictionary of Obsolete and Provincial English. 2 V. L. 1857. A History of Domestic Manners and Sentiments in England, &c. L. 1862. Yonge, Charlotte M. History of Christian Names. 2 v. L. 1863. Index 233 INDEX Adams, 141. Allot, Robert, 136. And, 139. Andronicus, 144. Apostle-spoons, 153. Apple-john, 152. Aqua coelestis, 151. Archdeacon's court, 147. Arches, 138, 147. Arsedine, 168. Arthur of Bradley, 170. Aunt, 171. Babies = dolls, 136. Ballads, 167, 192. Banbury, 150, 154. Bankside, 142. Bartholomew, spelling of, 135. Bartholomew Fair (the play), char- acters, xviii ; date, 142 ; dialect, 184, 202; editions of the text, vii-x; general features of the comedy, xii-xx; Leigh Hunt's criticism, xiii;local allusions, 163; Pepys' comments, 220; plot, xiv- xviii ; puppet-play, xvi-xviii ; real- ism, xix, 219; a study of English social history, xx; Swinburne's criticism, xiii. Bartholomew Fair (the Smithfield Fair), character of its visitors, 160 ; a cloth fair, 141 ; duration of, 166; history, x-xii; wrestling at, 201. Bears at the Hope, 142. Bedchambers, English, 200. Bedlam, 150. Bermudas, 182. Birds, Bartholomew, 138. Bobchin, 189. Bradley, Arthur of, 170. Bridewell, 204. Brome, Richard, 138, 166. Bucklersbury, 158. Budge Row, 147. Buff, 152. Canters, 208. Catchpoles, 195. Changeling, 168. Choke pears, 200. Cicero, 170. Circling boy, 201, 203. Cloister, the Fair, 156. Cloth fairs, English, 141. Cokeley, 190. Cokes, meaning of name, 159. Cole, 213. Coltsfoot, 169. Comfortable bread, 176. Commodity swindle, 146. Cony, 174. Coryate, Thomas, 190, 195. Cow Lane, 150. Cranion-legs, 160. Cross and pile, 157. Crown scab, 179. Cucking-stool, 178. Cunning man, 149. Cutpurses, 178, 179, 181, 182, 193. Dame Annis the Clear, 187. Davy, little, 138. Delia, Daniel's, 212. Dibble, 173. Disparagement, 195. 234 Bartholomew Fair Dorring the dotterel, 198. Drawing after, 152. Dunmow bacon, 215. Eggs on the spit, 156. Elder, 150. Elizabeth's Servants, Lady, 135. Epictetus, 206. Epidaurian serpent, 163. Fans, 217. Feathers, 148, 216. Ferret and cony, 174. Field, Nathaniel, 210. Finsbury, 2ig. Fireworks, 211. Fly at a mark, 175. Foundring, 173. Fox = sword, 181. French, hood, 158. Gear, 177. Gib-cat, 157. Gloves, wedding, 191. Goldylocks, 196. Goshawk, 176. Grasso scoured, 173. Green gowns, 205. Ground, 142. Handsell, 171. Handy-dandy, 193. Harpocrates, 219. Harrow, 147. Hedge bird, 178. His, joined with a noun, 154. Hobby-horse, 167. Hodge, 157. Hog grubber, 214. Hone and a honero, 215. Hope Theatre, 142, 146, 209. Horace, 206. Horse-courser, 137. Hum-ha-hum, 153. Humors, 138. I. B., 13s. Induction, its personal note, 137. Inns of Court, 140. Jack, 147, 186. Jeronimo, 144. Joan, 166. Jones, Inigo, 167. Jonson, Ben, a possible allusion to his duel with Spencer, 155 ; spell- ing of name, 135. Jordan, 173. Juggler, with ape, 139. Juvenal, 219. Kind-heart, 139. Lay aboard, 188. Lift = theft, 202. London watermen, 214. Lord Mayor, Jonson's satire of, 163. Lotteries, 144. Low Countries, allusions to, 177. Lubberland, 187. Lucanus, 205. Lynceus, 163. Magistrates, Jonson's satire of, 163, 180. Making and marring, 157. Mallanders, 179. Mark, 156. Marlowe's Hero and Leander, 213, 215- Marrow-bone man, 151. Martyrs in Smithfield, 200. Mary gip, 158. Maryhinchco, 187. Masks, 211. May-poles, 154. Melancholy, 175. Mermaid inn, 147. Mess, 191. Middleton, The Family of Love, XXX. Index 235 Mirror for Magistrates, 145. Mitre inn, 148. Monsters, 185. Moon-calf, 168. Morefields, 148. Morris-dance, 154. Muss, 198. Nativity water, 149. Nightcap, 186. Northern clothier, 201. Numps, 156. Ostler, Wm., 210. Paggington's Pound, 192. Painful eaters, 153. Pannyer Alley, 153. Parcel-poet, 167. Patrico, 183. Pauls. See St. Paul's. Peck, mouth of a, 183. Peircing, spelling of, 163. Pepys on Bartholomew Fair, 220. Peremptory, 198. Persius, 206. Perukes, 216. Pie Corner, 161. Pie-powder court, 165. Pimlico. 148. Plague, 177. Pluck a hair of the same wolf, 152. Poesy, 191. Possibility, 152. Pox, 179. Proclamation by City of London, 166. Proctor, 137, 151. Profanity, 145. Prophecy, 162. Puffs, 217. Puppet-plays, xvi-xviii, 207, 208, 212. Puritan, the play of the, xxx. Puritans, their loathing of Juda- ism, 162. Puritans, Jonson's satire of their cant, xxiii, xxvii ; dishonesty, xxvi, xxix; dress, xxiii, xxvii; hypocrisy, xxvii ; narrowness and intolerance, xxiv, xxviii; scrupu- losity, xxiv ; Jonson's moderation in his attack, xxxi ; his real feel- ing towards, xxxi-xxxiii. Quarreling lesson, 182. Quitter-bone, 179. Quit you, etc., 197. Quorum, 163. Rabbi, significance of title, 162. Rag-rakers, 151. Randolph, The Muse's Looking Glass, xxx. Ranger, 137. Rat-catcher's charm, 194. Reversion, 200. Romford, 204. * St. Paul's, 147. Sathan, 196. Satire of the public, Jonson's, 143; satire of the Lord Mayor, etc., see Lord Mayor, Magistrates, Puritans, Shakespeare. Scratches, 179. Seminaries, 164. Sent := scent, 152. Servant-monster, 145. Shakespeare, Jonson's satire on Much Ado, 141 ; Tempest and Winter's Tale, 145. Shrove Tuesday, 207. Signs, street, 136, 158. Smithfield, dirt of, 146; pond, 178; martyrs, 200; origin of name, 186; see Bartholomew Fair. 236 Bartholomezv Fair Spanish lady, 147. Spectators at the theatres, 143. Spinner = spider, 153. Splay-foot, 152. Starch, the Puritans' prejudice against, 155. Stone-Puritan, 188. Stourbridge Fair, 141. Streights, 182. Sweating sickness, 177. Sweet singers, 151. Sword and buckler, 138. Take soil, 151. Tarlton, Richard, 140. Tartuffe, Moliere's, 162. Taylor, the Water-Poet, 209. Theatres, price of admission, 143; private, 211. Three Cranes inn, 147. Tobacco, 169, 180, 181, 182. Token, 174. Tottenham, 152. Trigstairs, 211. Trillibub, 152. Troubleall, 197. Trunk-hose, 206. Turnbull, 137. Tusk, 173. Under-meal, 199. Unexcepted at, 144. Upon, used adverbially, 137. Ursula, 168. Vapors, 172. Velvet-custard, 156. Virgil, 189. Vocation, 151. Voluntary, 208. Ware, 204. Watch, the city, 141. Wellborn, Grace, 201. Wench, 174. Whetstone, George, 159. Whit's brogue, 184. Whimsy, 175. Windgall, 179. YALE STUDIES IN ENGLISH. Albert S. Cook, Editor. I. The Foreign Sources of Modern English Versification. Charlton M. Lewis, Ph.D. $0.50. II. yElfric : A New Study of his Life and Writings. Caroline Louisa White, Ph.D. $1.50. III. The Life of St. Cecilia, from MS. Ashmole 43 and MS. Cotton Tiberius E. VII, with Introduction, Variants, and Glossary. Bertha Ellen Lovewell, Ph.D. $1.00. IV. 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