THE WORKS 
 
 JOHN WEBSTEE: 
 
 80ME ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR, AND NOTES, 
 
 KEV. ALEXANDER DYCE. 
 
 A NEW EDITION, KE VISED AND COBftECTED. 
 
 LONDON: 
 ROUTLEDGE, WARNE, AND ROUTLEDGE, 
 
 FARRINGDON STREET. 
 
 NEW YORK: 56, WALKER STREET. 
 
 1859. 
 

 NOTICE. 
 
 In this re-impression of Webster's Works (which were first col- 
 lected and edited by me in 1830) I have considerably altered both 
 the Text and Notes throughout, and made some sHght additions to 
 the Memoir of the poet. I have also excluded from the present 
 edition a worthless drama, which I too hastily admitted into the 
 former one, — The Thracian Wonder ; for though it was published by 
 Kirkman as " written by John Webster and William Rowley," internal 
 evidence decides that Webster could no more have had a hand in it 
 than in another play called The Weakest goeth to the Wall, a portion 
 of which is ignorantly ascribed to him by PhilHps : see p. xv., note. 
 
 A. DYCE. 
 
 December, 1857. 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 PAGE 
 
 SOME ACCOUNT OF JOHN WEBSTER AND HIS WRITINGS . . , . ix 
 
 ^^HE WHITE DEVIL ; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA 1 
 
 ly^RE DUCHESS OF MALFI ^ 53 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE 103 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA 147 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS WYATT 181 
 
 WESTWARD HO ... • 205 
 
 NORTHWARD HO 247 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD 285 
 
 THE MALCONTENT 321 
 
 MONUMENTS OF HONOUR 363 
 
 A MONUMENTAL COLUMN . ' 371 
 
 VERSES TO MUNDAY 377 
 
 ODE 377 
 
 VERSES TO HEYWOOD 378 
 
 VERSES TO COCKERAM 378 
 
 INDEX TO THE NOTES 379 
 
3? THR 
 
 lUHIVBRSITTj 
 
 SOME ACCOUNT 
 
 OF 
 
 JOHN WEBSTER AND HIS WRITINGS. 
 
 Seldom has the biogi-apher gi-eater cause to lament a deficiency of materials than 
 when engaged on the life of any of om- early di-amatists. Among that illustrious 
 band John Webster occupies a distinguished place ; and yet so scanty is our infor- 
 mation concerning him, that in the present essay I can do little more than enumerate 
 his different productions, and adduce proof that he was not the author of certain 
 prose-pieces which have been attributed to him. 
 
 On the title-page of his Monuments of Honour, &c., 1624, Webster is styled 
 " Merchant-Tailor ; " and in the Dedication to that pageant he describes himself as 
 "one born fi-ee of the Merchant-Tailors' Company."* Hence Mr. Collier conjectures 
 
 * "Which favours done to one born free of your company, and your servant," &c. See p. 364. 
 That " your company" means the Merchant-Tailors' Company, is certain, — John Gore, whom Webster 
 addresses, being "a right worthy brother" of that " fratemity. " 
 
 It was, of course, desirable that the Court-Books of the Merchant-Tailors' Company should be examined 
 for the present work : and the impoilant information, illustrative of personal history, which is afforded 
 by wills, was too obvious not to cause a search to be made in Doctors' -Commons. But we cannot 
 identify our poet with any of the Websters of whom notices have been there discovered. 
 
 The following extracts from the Court-Book of IMercbant-Tailors'-Company were made for me by the 
 Clerk, 26th Dec. 1828, strangers, by a new regulation of the Company, not being allowed to inspect 
 their documents : — 
 
 From Court-Book, vol. i. fol. 557 ; 
 
 " Lune X° die decembris 1571. 
 " Item Anne Sylver, Widdowe, piited and made free John Webster her late Apprentise." 
 
 From Court-Book, vol. ii. fol. 48 ; 
 
 " Lune XX° die Januarij A° dm 1576. 
 "Item John Palmer piited John Webster his Apprtize and also made the saide Webster free," 
 
 From Court-Book, vol. vi. fol. 633 ; 
 
 " Lune Decimo Septimo die Novemb 
 
 "Anno Dm 1617. 
 
 " John Webster made free by Henry Clinckard his M''." 
 
JOHN WEBSTER AND HIS WRITINGS. 
 
 that he was the sou of the John Webster, Merchant-Tailor, to whom John and 
 Edward Alleyn acknowledge themselves debtors in the following terms : — 
 
 " All men shall know by these presents that we, John Allein, cytysen and Inholder, 
 of London, and Edward Allein, of London, gentleman, do owe and ar indebted unto 
 John Webster, c\-tysen and mcrchatmtayler of London, the somme of fyfteue shyl- 
 lynges of lawfiill money of England, to be payed to the sayd John Webster, or his 
 
 From Index -Book to Freemen 
 
 "Webster Johes—^ Annam Silver, wid. 10 decembr 1571 
 Webster Johes — ^ Juhem Palmer, ... 20 Jauuarij 1576 
 Webster Joshes — ^ Henricum Clinckard, 17 Novembris 1617." 
 
 There are no other entries about any John Webster between the years 1571 and 1617. 
 
 The following memoranda are derived from the Prerogative Office : 
 
 John Webster, clothworker, of London, made his will on the 5th August, 1625. He bequeaths to 
 his sister, Jane Chenej', dwelling within seven miles of Norwich, 10/., with remainder, if she died, to her 
 children, and if they died, to his sister Elizabeth Pyssing ; to whom he also left 101., with remainder to 
 her children. To his sister, Anne Webstar, of Holand, in Yorkshire, the same sum, with remainder to 
 her children. To his father-in-law, William Hattfield, of Wliittington, in Derbyshire, 15/., and to his 
 fuur children 4/. each. To his cousin, Peter Webstar, and his wife, dwelling in Doncaster, 40». each. 
 To his cousin, Peter Webstar, of Whittington, in Derbyshire, he gives 10/., and if he died before it was 
 paid, it was to be given to his brother, who was a protestant, "fur I hear that one brother of my cousio 
 Peter is a papist." To William Bradburj', of London, shoemaker, 51. To liichard Matthew, his ^the 
 testator's) son-in-law, 161. He mentions his father-in-law, Mr. Thomas Farman. He gives his cousin, 
 Edward Curtice, 1/. 2s. To his cousin, Edward Curtis, son of Edward Curtis, senior, 3/. He leaves 
 the residue of his property to his brothers and sisters in law, by his wife ; specially i)rovidinp that 
 Elizabeth Walker should be one. He constitutes Mr. Robert Aungel, and his cousin, Mr. Francis A-!i, 
 citizens, his executors ; and his cousins, Curtis and Tayler, overseers of his will, — which was proved by 
 his executors on the 7th October, 1625. 
 
 John Webster, of St. Botolph's-without-Aldgate, citizen and tallow-chandler, of London, made his 
 will on the ICth February, 1C28, and orders by it, that his body should be buried in the churchyard of 
 that parish, as near to his nephew, John Webster, as might be. To Katherine, his wife, he gives some 
 freehold and cojiyhold lands in Claveriug, in Essex, for life, with remainder to his nephew, James 
 Webster ; together with some property in Houndsditch, she paying 50«. quarterly to Mary Lee, wife vi' 
 James Lee, of London, Mercliaut-Tailor. To his nephew, James Webster, he bequeaths lauds iu 
 Sabridgewortii, in Herts, with two-thirds of his jjriuted books, sword, jjike, and other arms, when of full 
 age, witli reversion, if he died witliout heirs, to William Webster, alias Wilkinson. To his three sisters, 
 Dorothy Wilkinson, Susan Nettleton, and Alice Uroukes, his lands at Clavering, aft<;r the docejuse of his 
 wife ; they paying to Mary Wigge, Harlwira Brend, Agnes Loveband, widow, and Clement CumiK?, his 
 wife's four sisters, 4/., each yearly. He afterwards describes the lieforementioncil William Welister, alias 
 Wilkiniion, as "the eldest son of my eldest sister, Dorotiiy Wilkinson, late wife of Richard Wilkinson, of 
 Yorkshire." If the said William dii-d without issue, the projierty so ^iven him was tt> go to the tesUitor's 
 nephews, ThomaH, son of TliomaM Nettleton, and E<lniund, son of Robert Briwkes. He nl.so mentions bis 
 ne]iliew, Henry Wilkinson ; his niece, Isaln-l Nettleton, then under age ; his apprentice, John Wigge ; 
 his niece, Elizalx.lh IJrentl, and her father, George Brendo : to the children of John Alderstou, of 
 Chelmsfurd, he gives U)/. eacit ; and to his cousin, Benjamin Crabtroc, 2/. : and directs that tiie before- 
 mentiouetl James Webster, when of age, shall surrender to I^Iichikcl Wilkinson a close in I'awood, in 
 Yorkshire, which was tlie testatnr's father's, and fell, by descent, t«> his (the testator's) broUier, Jame<i 
 Wulister, who solil it to Mieluiel Wilkinson. He apiniints Mr. Thomas (tvennan, alderman and 'r luier- 
 Hcllcr, of London, the aforesaiil John Alderston, ami Thonms Snnty, oitixen and nirrchimt tailor, of Loudon, 
 ovorMecm, and his wife Katherine, executrix, of his will, who jiroveil it on the I'.'th Nov., 1041. ^ 
 It is evident that l)uth these ]K-niouB died without issue. \ 
 
JOHN WEBSTER AND HIS WRITINGS. 
 
 assygnes, on the last day of September next insewinge the date hereof, whci-to wee 
 binde us, our heyres and assygnes, by these presentes. Subscrybed this xxv^ii day 
 of July, 1591, and in the xxxiii of her Ma^'^^ raygne. 
 
 John Allein 
 Ed. Alleyx."* 
 
 We are told that our poet was clerk of St. Andi-ew's, Holborn ; and it is possible 
 that during some period of his career he may have filled that office : but the state- 
 ment rests on a comparatively late and questionable authority, t 
 
 From the researches of Mr. Collier we leam (presuming the person mentioned to 
 be the dramatist) that he " resided in Holywell Street, among the actors," and that 
 " Alice Webster, his daughter, was baptized at St. Leonard's on the 9th May, 
 1606." Mr. Collier adds; " If the following, from the same registers, relate to his 
 man'iage, it must have occurred when he was very young : — 
 
 ' Married. John Webster and Isahell Sutton, 25 July, 1590.' 
 
 Om' principal reason for thinking that it may refer to him is, that elsewhere in the 
 register he is sometimes called merchant-tailor, a designation himself assumed in his 
 City Pageant of 1624." + 
 
 Like several other of his contemporaries, he was perhaps an actor as well as a 
 dramatist ; but when, in a tract (hereafter to be mentioned) called Histi'io-mastix, &c.. 
 Hall and his coadjutor speak of "Webster the quondam player,''' they appear to have 
 used the word " player " as equivalent to " wi-iter of plays." 
 
 The following notices of Webster as a dramatist occur in Henslowe's Diary : — 
 
 iij'V 
 
 "Lent unto W^"" Jube, the 3 of no\T.ubr 1601, to bye stamell clothe ") 
 for a clocke for the Givisse — Webster ...... J 
 
 "Lent unto the company, to lend the littell tayller, to bye fusthen \ . . s " 
 and lynynge for the clockes for the masaker of France, the some of . ) 
 
 "Lent unto the com^Dany, the 8 of novmbr 1601, to paye unto the ^ 
 littell tayller, upon his bell for mackyne of sewtes for the givesse, the ^ -^^ • 
 some of ........... J 
 
 "Lent unto the companye, the 13 of novmbr 1601, to paye the litell ] „ 
 
 tayllor, Radford, upon his bill for the Givisse, the some of . . ) 
 
 * The AUeyn Papers, &c., p. 14, ed. Shakespeare Soc. 
 
 t "Tliis Aiitlior [John Webster] was Clerk of St. Andrew's Parish in Holbourne," &c. GUdon's 
 Lives and Characters of the English Dram. Poets, 1698, p. 146.- 1 searched the registers of St. 
 Andrew's Church, but the name of Webster did not occur in them ; and I examined the MSS. belonging 
 to the Parish-Clerks' Hall, in Wood-street, with as little success. 
 
 J Memoirs of the Principal Actors in the Plays of Shakespeare.— Introd. p. xxxii., ed. Shake- 
 speare Soc. 
 
 <h 
 
 h 2 
 
JOHN WEBSTER AND HIS WRITINGS. 
 
 " Pd at tlie npoyntment of the companye, unto the littell tayller, j 
 in fulle payment of his Bille for t}i€ Gunsse, the 26 of novmbr IGOl, j ^^"'J' ^'*-"* 
 some ............' 
 
 The play wliich Henslowe in the above entries calls The Guise or T/ie Massacre of 
 France, is mentioned by Webster himself, under the firet title, as one of his "\vorks."t 
 It has not come down to us ; and therefore we cannot determine whether it was a 
 rifaccimento of Marlowe's Massacre at Paris or an original piece : — I am strongly 
 inclined to believe that it was the latter. — Again : — 
 
 "Lent unto the companye, the 22 of maij 1602, to geve unto 
 
 f vli "■*■ 
 
 Antoney Monday and Mihell Drayton, Wehester, Mydelton and the 
 Rest, in eameste of a Boocke called sesers Falle, the some of . 
 
 We are natm*ally curious to know how these combined poets treated a subject 
 which employed the pen of Shakespeare ; but Ccesar^s Fall has perished. — A<.'ain : — 
 
 "Lent luito Thomas Downton, the 29 of maye 1G02, to paye j 
 
 f *' *li " jj 
 
 Thomas Dickers, Drayton, ^Mydellton, and Wehester, and Mondaye, in - "J • S 
 fulle paymente for ther playe called too Imrpes [?], the some of . ; 
 
 The Two Harpies (if such be the correct title, which is far from cei-tain) no longer 
 exists. — Again : — 
 
 " Lent unto Thomas Hewodc and John Webster, the 2 of novmbr j 
 1602, in eameste of a playe called Cyrssmas comes but once a yeare, . "J • 
 the some of . . . . . . . . . . . / 
 
 "Lent unto John Dewcke, the 23 of novmbr 1G02, to ])aye unto j 
 harye chettell and Thomas Deckers, in pte of paymente of a playe " ^-^^^ • 
 called Crysmas comes but once a yeare, the some of . . . . / 
 
 " Pd at the apoyntment of Thomas Hawodc, the 20 of novmbr j 
 1602, to harey chettell, in fulle paymente of a ]»laye called Cryssmas ^-'^xx . 
 comes but once a yeare, the some of ...... y 
 
 " Layd owt for the companye, the 9 of novmbr \^Deccmbcr i? ] 1 002, J 
 to bye ij calleco sewtes and ij buckram sewtes, for the playe of Cryss- ' ^^^^'U "^ • 
 vuu comes but once a yeare, the some of . . / 
 
 " Sowld xuito the companye, the 9 of do.soinbr l(i02, ij poces of j 
 cangaljlo tafletie, to macke a womones gowne and a robe, for the jtlayo } '"J ^ • II 
 of crysmas comes but once a year, some of , .... j 
 
 Chri«(>/ias dimes ititt once a year is also lost. — In ihc ivimc Diary, muli'r (X'tobor 
 
 • HonBlowe's Diary, pp. 202, 208, 204, ed. Shakespeare Soc. 
 
 t DeilU-.alioii t<> The l>evir» Law-cute, —Y. 105. 
 
 X Uoiulowe'a Diary, p. 221. § Id. p. 222. || Id. pp. 243, 244, 245. 
 
 A- 
 
 \ 
 
JOHN WEBSTER AND HIS WRITINGS. 
 
 1602, are thi-ee entries relating to a play in Two Parts, entitled Lady Jane, the First 
 Part the joint-production of Chettle, Dekker, Heywood, Smith and Webster, the 
 Second Part composed (it would seem) by Dekker alone. These entries will be foimd 
 in the introductory remarks on The Famous Histori/ of Sir Thomas Wyatt ; * which 
 di-ama, with its text miserably mutilated and corrupted, is evidently nothing more 
 than an abridgement of the Two Parts of Lady Jane, for it embraces the story of 
 Suffolk's unfortunate daughter from her forced accession to her death. 
 
 The second edition of Marston's Malcontent appeared in 1604, not only 
 "augmented" by the original author, but " with additions " by Webster, — who was 
 well qualified to supply them, resembling, as he did, Marston in the masculine 
 chai-aQter of his mind and style. How much he contributed to this vigorously 
 written but unpleasing play, it is impossible to ascertain, t 
 
 In 1607 were given to the press The Famous History of Sir Thomas Wyatt (which 
 has been noticed above), and Westtvard Ho, and ]Sforthtva7-d Ho, — two comedies 
 composed by Webster in alliance with Dekker. 
 
 Westivard Ho and Northivard Ho (the former of which was on the stage in 
 1605) X are full of hfe and bustle, and remarkable for the light they throw on 
 the manners and customs of the time. Though by no means piu-e, they ai-e 
 comparatively little stained by that grossness from which none of our old come- 
 dies are entirely free. In them the worst thing's are always called by the worst 
 names : the licentious and the debauched always sjDeak most strictly in character ; 
 and the I'ake, the bawd, and the com-tezan, are as odious in representation as they 
 would be if actually present. But the public taste has now reached the highest 
 pitch of refinement, and such coarseness is tolerated in our theatres no more. 
 Some will perhaps maintain, that the language of the stage is pxu'ified in proportion 
 as our morals have deteriorated, and that we ch'ead the mention of the vices which 
 we are not ashamed to practise ; while our forefathers, imder the sway of a less 
 fastidious but a more energetic principle of virtue, were careless of words and only 
 considerate of actions. 
 
 In 1612 The White Devil was printed; a play of extraordinary power. The story, 
 though somewhat confused, is eminently interesting ; and, though abounding in, — if 
 not a little overcharged with, — fearful incidents, it has nothing which we are disposed 
 to reject as incredible. |3^i^^* genius was requh'ed to conceive, what skill to embody, 
 so forcible, so various, and so consistent a character as Vittoria ! AVe shall 
 not easily find, in the whole range of our ancient drama, a more effective scene 
 than that in which she is arraigned for the murder of her 'husband. It is truth 
 itself. Brachiano's flinging down his gown for his seat, and then, with impatient 
 ostentation, leaving it behind him on his departm-e ; the pleader's Latin exordium ; 
 the jesting mterruption of the culprit ; the overbearing intemperance of the 
 
 * See p. 182. t See p. 322. X See p. 206. 
 
JOHN WEBSTER AND HIS WRITINGS. 
 
 Cardinal ; the prompt mid uncouquerable spirit of Vittoria ; — all togetlier unite in 
 producing on us an impression as strong as could result from an event of real life. 
 Lamb, in his Specimetis of Eiif/Iish Dramatic Poets, speaks of the " innocence-resembling 
 boldness" of Yittoriii.* For my own part, I admire the dexterity with ^Yhich Webster 
 has discriminated l>etween that simple confidence in their own integrity which the 
 innocent manifest under the imputation of a gi-eat crime, and that forcetl and prac- 
 tised presence of mind which th'e hanlencd offender exliibits when brought to trial. 
 Vittoria stands before her judges, alive to all the ten'ore that surroimd her, rch-ing on 
 the quickness of her wit, conscious of the influence of her beauty, and not without a 
 certain sense of protection, in case of extreme need, from the inteq)osition of Bra- 
 chiano. She surprises by the readiness of her replies ; but never, in a single in^jtance, 
 has tlic author assigned to her any words which were likely to have fallen from an 
 %nocent pereon inidcr similar circumstances. Vittoria is undaunted, but it is bv 
 effort. Her intrepidity has none of the calmness which belongs to one who knows 
 that a ])laiii talc can put down his adversary ; it is a high-wrought and exaggerated 
 j boldness, — a determination to outface facts, to brave the evidence she cannot 
 i refute, and to act the martjT though convicted as a crimiualj Scattered throughout 
 the play are passages of exquisite poetic beauty, which, once read, can never be 
 forgotten. 
 
 Three Elegies on the most lamented death of Prince Henry appeared in 1013 : the 
 part of this tract written by Webster, entitled A Monumental Column, itc, contains 
 some striking lines, but nothing characteristic of its author. 
 
 In 1G23 were published The Duchess of Malfi (fii-st produced about l<Jl<i f ) and 
 The DeviVs Law-case. Of tlie latter of these plays the i)lot is disagreeable and far 
 from probable ; Init portions of tlic serious scenes arc not xmworthy of Webster. 
 Few dramas jiossess a dee])er interest in their progress, or are more touching in 
 their conclusion, than The Duchess of Malji. The passion of the Duchess for Antonio, 
 a subject most difficult to treat, is managed with infinite delicacy : in a situation 
 of great peril for the author, she condescends without being degraded, declares to 
 her dependant that he is the husband of her choice witliout losing anything of 
 dignity and rcs])ect, and seems only to exercise the privilege of nuik in raising merit 
 from obscurity-. We sympathize from the fij"st monient in the loves of the Duchess and 
 Antonio, as we would in a long-standing domestic affection ; and we muiu'u thi> more 
 over the misery that attends them bi'fause wo i\\'\ tiiat iiapj)iness wa.s tlie natural and 
 legitimate fruit of so pure and rational an altarimKiit. It is the wrdded friendship 
 of middle life tranBjdanted to cheer the cold and glittering solitude of a court: it 
 flourisheK but a short time in that iniaccustomed K])here, and then is blasted for ever. 
 The sufferings and dealli of the imprisoned Dtiehess luunit the mind like painful 
 realitioH ; but it \h <lie less necessary to dwell on tluiii luii'. as no part of our author's 
 
 <■ •• tli« quototton in p. 24, note, of the preMnt work. 
 
JOHN WEBSTER AND HIS ^TIITINGS. 
 
 vtritings is so veil known to the generality of readers as the scenes "where they 
 are depicted. In such scenes Webster was on his own groiuid. His imagination 
 had a fond familiarity with objects of awe and fear. The silence of the sepulchre, 
 the sculp tiu'es of marble monuments, the knolling of chiirch-bells, the cerements 
 of the coi-pse, the yew that roots itself in dead men's gi-aves, are the illustrations 
 that most readily present themselves to his imagination. If he speaks of the force 
 of love, his language is, — 
 
 " This is flesh and blood, sir ; 
 'Tis not the figure cut La alabaster 
 Kneels at my husband's tomb ; " * 
 
 and when he tells us that 
 
 " Glories, like glow-'worms, afar off shine bright, 
 But look'd to near, have neither heat nor Ught," + 
 
 we are almost satisfied that the glow-worm which Webster saw, and which suggested 
 the reflection, was sparkling on the gi'een sod of some lowly grave. 
 
 Monuments of Honour, <fcc. Invented and written hy John Webster, Merchant- 
 Tailor, 1624, is the very rarest J of all oui* old city-pageants: — it is not by any 
 means the best. 
 
 In September 1624 Su- Hemy Herbert licensed "A new Tragedy, called A late 
 Murther of the Sonn upon the Mother, wiitten by Forde and Webster § " ; of which, 
 when we consider how well the teiTible subject was suited to the powers of the two 
 writers, we cannot fail to regret the loss. 
 
 Apjnus and Virginia was printed in 1654. This drama is so remai'kable for its 
 simplicity, its deep pathos, its imobtnisive beauties, its singleness of plot, and the 
 easy unimpeded march of its story, that perhaps there are readers who will prefer it 
 to any other of over author's productions. 
 
 I need hardly obsei-ve that Appiu-s and Virginia must have been brought on the 
 stage long before 1654 : indeed, at that date Webstei; was, in all probability, dead. 
 
 In 1661, Ku-kman, the bookseller, published, from manuscripts in his possession, 
 A Cure for a Cuckold and The Thracian Wonder, both of Iftiem, according to the title- 
 pages, " Written hy John Webster and William Rowley^ Webster's hand may, I 
 think, be traced in parts of the former play. Of any share in the concoction of the 
 latter he certainly was guiltless. || 
 
 * p 65, + P. 36, and p. 88. 
 
 t The only copy of this pageant kno-mi to exist, is in the possession of the Duke of Devonshire, who, 
 •with his usual liberality, allowed me to transcribe it. 
 
 § GhtAm&cs^s Supplemental Apology, &c., p. 218. 
 
 II The Tlcradan Wmider (which I inconsiderately reprinted in the first edition of the present collection^ 
 is partly founded on the story of Curan and ArgenlUe in Earner's Albion's England. A poetical tract, 
 founded also on the same portion of Warner's work, appeared in 1617, written by a William Webster, 
 
JOHN WEBSTER AXD HIS WRITINGS. 
 
 The following lines* concerning our author are found in Henry Fitzgeffi-cy's 
 Notes from BlacJcfryers, 1620 ; 
 
 " But li' st ! with him, crabbed Wehsterio, 
 The pfatj-wri'jht, cart-wright : whether ? either ? ho — 
 No further. Lcxtke as yee'd bee look't into ; 
 Sit as ye woo'd be read : Lord I who woo'd know him ? 
 Was euer man so mangl'd with a iioan I 
 See how he drawcs Ins mouth awry of late, 
 How he scrubs, wrings his wrests, scratches his pate ! 
 A midicifcJ helpe ! By his bvaiiict coitus 
 Some Centaurc strange, some huge Bucephalus, 
 Or Pallas, sure, ingendred in his braine : — 
 Strike, Vulcan, with thy hammer once againe. 
 
 Tliis is the criltick that, of all the rest, 
 I'de not haue view mee ; yet I feare him least : 
 lleer's not a word cursiuety I haue wrii, 
 But hee'l industriously examine it, 
 And in some 12 mouthes hence, or tliereabout, 
 Set in a shamefull sheete my errors out. 
 But what care I ? it will be so obscure 
 That none shall vndei-stand him, I am sure." Sig. F. 6. 
 
 An inquiry now arises, — was.Juhn Webster, the di-amatist, the same John Webster 
 who was author of The Saints' Guide, of a celebrated tract called Academiamm 
 Examen or The Examination of Academies, and of a volume of sermons entitled The 
 Jiulgment set and the Bools opened ? Our dramatist, as we have seen, was a WTitcr 
 for the stage in IGOl ; and the first of the pieces just mentioned was printed in 
 1653 : if he was only twenty -five when he composed The Guise, he must have been 
 about seventy-seven when The Saints Guide appeared. Those who are inclined to 
 
 and entitled The most pleasant and deli'jhtfuU Historic of Curan, Prince of Danslx, and the fayre 
 Princesse Argent He, Daughter and Heyre of Adelbriyht, sometime King of North umbciland : and 
 Mr. Cullier plausibly conjectures (Poet. Dccam., vol. i. p. 2(38.) that Kirkman's recollection of the poem 
 by William Webster induced him to attribute the play to John Webster. 
 
 Kirkman was not scrupulous in such matters. He jiublished, in IflST, Lmis Dominion, or The 
 Lascivious Queen, and put on the title-page " U'riV^eu by Christifer Marlot, Gent.," though we hare 
 positive proof that it could not have been composed by that jioct : see my Account of Marloxce and his 
 Writings, — Works, i. Iviii. 
 
 In the "Introduction" to his (h\\\av>i\ oi The Dramatic Worlcs of John Webster, 1857, Mr. Hazlitt 
 announces his intention of including among them, not only 77ie Thracian Wonder (which he justly 
 describes as " a stream of dulness"), but The WtaLrsI goelh to the Wall. The latter play he assigns t<> 
 Webster " ujion the authority of Winstanley " ; not being aware that when Wiiistiniley wrote as follows 
 in his Lives of the most famous Knglish Pm-h, ItJS", p. 137, he was merely transcribing the blunders of 
 rhillips in the Theutrum Poetarum, 1()75 : " He [Dekker] was also an associate with John Webster in 
 several well eutertain'd Plays, viz. Northward, hoc .' The Noble ,'<lranger ; AVir Trick to cheat the Devil ; 
 Westward, hoe 1 The Weakest goes to the Wall ; i\.\\A A Woman will hare hrr will." Here wo have three 
 plays confidently attributed to Dekker and Webster, of whicli we are certain that they did not write a word : 
 The Noble Stranger is by Shari»e ; A New Trick to cheat the Devil, by Duven]>«>rt ; and A Woman will hare 
 her will, by Haughton ! So much for the "authority" of Winstanley, or rather, of rhilli)>8. As to The 
 Weakest yoeth to Uie Wall, — from beginning to end it is written in u stylo utterly unlike that of Webster. 
 
 • For verses by Shejipard on Webster's White Devil, see p. 2 ; for A-erses by Middlvton, W. Rowley, 
 and Ford, on his Durhess of Maiji, sco p. 50. 
 
JOHN WEBSTER AND HIS WRITINGS. 
 
 suppose that he -^-as the author of that tract will not, of course, allow his advanced 
 age to be employed as an argument against the probability of their h}T)othcsis ; and 
 it must be confessed that some persons at as late a period of life have produced 
 works indicating that they retained the full possession of theh* intellectual powers. 
 I shall presently, however, show that he was neither the author of it, nor of the 
 other two pieces noticed above : in the meantime it is necessary to describe them 
 more pai'ticularly. 
 
 The Saints Guide, or, Christ the Rule and Rider of Saints. Manifested by way of 
 Positions, Cansectaries, and Queries. Wlierein is contayned the Efficacy of acquired 
 Kvjowledge ; the Rule of Christians ; the Mission and Maintenance of Ministers ; and 
 the jiower of Magistrates in Spiritual things. By John Webster, late Chaplain hi the 
 Army, a 4to. tract, was fii-st printed in 1653 : it was reprinted in the same form the 
 following year, and also in 12mo. in 1699*. Xo trace of the eloquence of 
 Webster the poet is visible in this dull and fanatical production. In his prefatoiy 
 addi'ess, "To all that love the Lord Jesus Christ in Truth and Sinceiity," the 
 author says; "For after the Lord, about eighteen years ago, had in his wonderfull 
 mercy brought me to the sad experience of mine own dead, sinfuU, lost, and 
 damnable condition in natm-e, and fully shewed me the nothingness and help- 
 lessness of creaturely power, either without or within me," &c. : and Mr. Collier, who 
 endeavours to prove that the writer of The Saints' Guide and the dramatist are the 
 same person, thinks that the words "damnable condition," which have just been 
 quoted, " can hardly mean anything but his ' damnable condition ' as a playert." 
 Sui-ely, not : in " damnable condition " there is no allusion to any profession the 
 author might have followed, but merely to what he conceived to be his reprobate 
 condition before he became a Saint. 
 
 Academiarum Examen, or the Examination of Academies. Wherein is discussed and 
 examined the Matter-, Method, and Customes of Academick and Scholastich Learning, and 
 the insufficiency thereof discovered and laid open ; As also some Expedients proposed 
 for the Reforming of Schools, and the perfecting and promoting of all hind of Scierwe. 
 Offered to the judgements of all tJwse that love the proficiencie of Arts and Sciences, and 
 the advancement of Learning. By Jo. Webster. In moribus et institutis Academiarum, 
 Collegiorum, et similium conventuum, quce ad doctorum hominum sedes, & operas mutuas 
 destinata sunt, omnia progressui sdentiarum in idterius adversa inveniri Franc. Bacon, 
 de Verulamio lib. de cogitat. d: vis. jiag. mihi 14., appeared in 4to. m 1654. That 
 the John Webster who wrote The Saints Guide wrote the Acad. Examen, there can 
 be no doiibt : both pieces were put foi-th by the same publisher, Giles Calvert t, 
 
 * The dedication to this edition is dated "April 28, 1663," which is doubtless an error of the 
 printer for 1653 ; the two earUer editions, of which it is an exact copy, having the dedication dated 
 April 28, 1653. + Poetical Decameron, vol. i. p. 262. 
 
 t " To conclude, the world may here see what stufife still comes from Lame Giles Calvers shop, that 
 forge of the Devil, from whence so many blasphemous, lying, scandalous Pamphlets, for many yeers past, 
 
JOHN WEBSTER AND HIS ^VRITIXGS. 
 
 and a second edition of the former was printed during the jear in which the latter 
 came from the press. In ;in Epixtle to the Reader, prefixed to the Acad. Examen, the 
 author says ; " I am no Deiin nor Master, President nor Provost, Fellow nor Pen- 
 sioner, neither have I tyths appropriate nor impropriate, augmentation, nor State 
 pay, nor all the levelling that hath been in these times hath not mounted nor 
 raised me, nor can they make me fall lower. Qui cadit in terrain, non habet tindt 
 cadat. And he that would raise himself by the ruins of others, or warm himself 
 by the burning of schools, I wish him no greater plague than liis own ignorance, 
 nor that he may ever gain more knowledge than to live to re|)ent." Tlumgh the 
 Acad. Ejramen contains a good deal of nonsense about the language of nature, 
 astrology, kc. ; and though all the theological portion of it is as ridicidous and 
 fanatical as TJie Saints Guide, yet, taken as a whole, it manifests vai-iety of learning 
 and cleaniess of judgment. 
 
 To this tract, dm-iug the year of its publication, two answer were ^^Titten. 
 The first was by Seth Ward, afterwards Bishop of Salisbmy, and Dr. John Wilkins 
 of Wadham College * ; it is entitled, Vindicice Acadeiniarum, containing Some brie/e 
 Animadversion.^ vjion Mr. Wehsters Book, stiled The Examination of Academies. 
 Together ivith an Appendix concerning what M. Hohhs and M. Dell have published 
 on this Argument. The a\ithoi-s had evidently never dreamed of their adversary 
 being the oncc-cclebrated dramatist. " I have heard from vei-y good hands," 
 says W'ilkins, "that he [Webster] is susfjccted to be a Friar, his conversation 
 being much with men of that way ; and the true dcsigne of this Booke being very 
 suitable to one of that profession, besides that his superficiidl and confused know- 
 ledge of things is much about that elevation." p. G. " In complyance therefore 
 with your desii-c," says Ward, " I mean to runne over this reverend Authour." p. 9. 
 " You know, Sir," he afterwards says, " and have observed in your Letter to mee, how 
 vast a difference there is betwixt the Learning and Reimtation of Mr. Hobbs and these 
 two Gentlemen, and how sconiefully he will take it to lie ranked with a Friar 
 [Webster] and an l']utliusiast." p. 51. The second answer to the Acm.1. Exainen 
 is calledf Ilistrio-Mastix. A whip fur Webster {as 'tis conceived) the Quondam 
 Plai/er : or. An examination of one John Websters delusive Examen of Academies, rfr. 
 /n the end there is annexed an elaborate defence of Logick, bg a verg learned Peiu 
 Mark how carefully the words " jis 'tis conceived," are inserted here ! One half, of 
 this answer is the production of Thomas Hall, the puritan, of whom an accoimt may 
 
 have sprwid over tlio Imul, to tlie ^reat dishonour of the Niilion, in the siglit of the Nations round alniut 
 us, and to tlie i)ri)Vo(:ati<)n of Gml's wratli against us, wliii-h will certainly hroake forth, Iwth upon the 
 actors and toloratorx of sin-h intcjlkrahle crrours, without Hpeedy refornintion and anienduient " 
 
 J/!»triii-in(i.^li.r, a \\'/ttjifitr Wchgtrr, kc. 16.'>4, ji. 21.'!. 
 
 • WilkinK wrote only the Ki)i8tlc to tlie Author, wj^ned N. S. ; the n.>niaiuder is by Ward, signed 
 II. D. : the Hi^ntttureH are tlie final lett^-rs of their names. 
 
 t This piece forms part of a small duod. volume, the genenil title of whioh is Vintlicia Lilerariim, 
 Thr Sriinnh ( .iiar,!,,! , ,(r, ,(r. lUj '/I,.. ma* Hail, li.D. and Piuldur of Kinrjt- Norton. 
 
JOHN WEBSTER AND HIS WRITINGS. 
 
 be found iu Wood's Athence Oxouienses, vol. iii. p. 677, ed. Bliss ; the other half (the 
 defence of Logic) is from the pen of a "reverend acute Logician," whose name is 
 not given. "We see then^' says Hall, addressing Webster, "who you arc, viz. an 
 Herculean Leveller, a Famalisticall Lion, a dissembling Fryar, a Profane Stage Player, 
 a professed friend to Judiciall Astrology and Astrologers," &c. p. 198. In this 
 passage we must observe that Hall merely takes it for granted from what had been 
 said before, that the author of the Acad. Examen was a player. The "reverend acute 
 Logician " commences his defence of the Stagirite thus : " This Mr. Webster [as I 
 siqypose) is that Poet whose Glory was once to be the Author of Stage-plaies (as the 
 Devils Law-case) but now the Tutor of Universities. But because his Stage-Players 
 [Stage-Playes] have been discountenanced by one of the late Parliaments, does hee 
 therefore addresse himselfe to the Amiy, for the like force, and as little favour in behalfe 
 of all Humane Learning ; for advancement whereof, the best way being already found, 
 he that seeks for another, desires worse (and so none at all), though he pretend to a 
 Reformation. For my own part, I could wish that his Poetry still had flourished 
 upon Mr. Johnson's [Ben Jonson's] account, in his Epistle before one of his Playes 
 (the Fox) to the two most equal Sisters, the Universities (a far better address then 
 this here) ; but it is odious to be like the Fox in the Fable, who having lost his owne 
 Ornament, envied his fellows theirs by pretending burthen or inconvenience." 
 pp. 217-18. In those days there could have been no difficulty in ascertaining 
 whether the author of the Acad. Examen was or was not the quondam dramatist ; 
 and we may be sure that the piu'itanical Hall and his coadjutor must have made 
 particular inqviiries into the matter. If they had been in possession of the fact that 
 their adversary had ever been guilty of play-writing or play-acting, they would not 
 have left their readers in any dou.bt on the subject ; they would never have used the 
 expressions "as 'tis conceived," or "as I suppose;" they would have charged Webster 
 with his theatrical sins in the most direct terms, and they would have alluded to 
 them over and over again, with many a coarse and bitter taunt. They were quite 
 aware that their adversary was not the dramatist * ; and they had recourse to the 
 supposition of his being that same person, as a likely means of bringing reproach 
 upon him in times of canting and hypocrisy t. 
 
 * Mr. Hazlitt, after citing what I say above, proceeds as follows : "This, however, is perfectly clear 
 to the present Editor, that the writers of Histrio-Mastix vfo\i\di not, for the very sake of their sneer, 
 have 'conceived' or ' supposed' any such identity as that malignantly suggested, had not John Wchsfcr, 
 the quondam 2:>layer, been still alive, and had he not, also, been connected in some tvaij ivith one of the 
 universities— perhaps he had been a teacher of elocution there.'" Introd. to The Dram. Worhs of John 
 Webster, 1857, p. viii. Mr. Hazlitt has previously remarked ; "There remains to be mentioned one 
 other occupation which Webster is said to have filled— that of College Tutor." p. vi. 
 
 That the dramatist was alive in 1654, I greatly doubt ; that he never was a teacher of elocution at 
 one of the universities, or a college-tutor, I am as certain as that he never was Archbishop of Canterbury. 
 
 t Mr. Collier, in the work already quoted, compares two passages of the Acad. Examen with two 
 from the plays of our author : 
 
 " On p. 3 of the Examen is this excellent sentence, ' So humane knowledge is good and excellent, and 
 
 7 
 
JOHN WEBSTER AND HIS ^VRITINGS. 
 
 In 1654 appeared also a quarto volume, entitled The Judgement Set, and the 
 Bookes Opened. lieligion Tried whether it he of God or of men. The Lord cometh to visit 
 his Oirn, Fur the time is come that Judgement must begin at (he House of God. 
 
 I Tfie Sfieep from the Goats, 
 To sejHtrate and 
 
 \ The Preciousfrom the Vilt. 
 
 ia of manifold and transcendent use, while moving in its own orb ; but whcu it will see further than its 
 own light can lead it, it then becomes blind and destroys itself.' This sentiment, but more tersely and 
 poetically expressed, is in 'The White Devil' : 
 
 ' While we looke vp to heauen we confound 
 Knowledge with knowledge : I am in a mist ! ' 
 
 There is a resemblance. But it is stronger in the next quotation and comparison I shall make. On 
 p. 15 of the Ejcnmen is this simile: 'Like a curious spiders web cunningly interwoven with many 
 various and subtill intcrtextures, and fit for nothing but the insnaring, manacling, and intricating of 
 rash, forward, unwary, and incircumspect men : ' in the tragedy of ' The Duchess of Malfy ' are the 
 following parallel lines : 
 
 ' the law to him 
 
 Is like a fowle black cobweb to a spider ; 
 
 He makes it his dwelling, and a prison 
 
 To entangle those shall feed him.' " 
 
 Poetical Decameron, vol. i., pp. 262-3. 
 
 Between the first two passages which Mr. Collier compares, it must be allowed that there is some 
 resemblance : but the similarity of the second two affords no grounds for inferring that they proceeded 
 from the same pen, as the following quotations (and those in note t, p. 201) decidedly show ; 
 
 '♦ Others report, it [law] is a spider's web 
 
 Made to entangle the poore helplesse flies, 
 Wliilst the great .spiders that did make it first, 
 And rule it, sit i' th' midst secure and laugh." 
 
 Field' .1 Woman's a Weathercock, ed. 1612, Sig. E. 
 
 " Laws are like spider-webs, small flies are tane, 
 Whiles greater flies break in and out againe." 
 
 Brath wait's Honest Ghost, 1658, p. "9. 
 
 " Law 's as a spidi-r's-web, and ever was, 
 
 It takes the little flies, lets great ones passe." 
 /./., p. 170. 
 
 " our Laws 
 Must be no Spider- webs to take small Flyes, 
 And let the great ones 'scape." » 
 
 Lady Alimony, 165i>, Sig. 13. 
 
 " Your JjawB, like Spiders wiba are nut a snare 
 Fur little flyes, that them tliu biggo may broake." 
 
 Lt)rd Sterliiio'.s Trmjedy of Crcestis, act iii., sc. 2. 
 Recreutiuns xsith the Musts, 1637, p. 24. 
 
 " It had been more for your credit and comfort to Imvo iniployi-d your time and talent in defence of 
 LangnagcH, AriM, and S<-iun(-eN, (cH]K'ciully in such a season aH this, when so many decry them^ then thus 
 to weave the Spiders Web, which may i>eradventure catch some feeble flice, when stronger ones break 
 thorough." J/istrioinastix, A Whip fur Wtbattr, kc. 1654, p. IDS). 
 
JOHN WEBSTER. AND HIS WRITINGS. 
 
 And to discover the Blasphemy of those that say, 
 
 They are I 
 
 Apostles, 
 
 Teachers, 
 
 Alive, 
 
 Rich, 
 
 Jewes, 
 
 hut are { 
 
 Found Lyars, 
 
 Deceivers, 
 
 Dead, 
 
 Poore, blind, nalced, 
 
 The Synagogue of Satan. 
 
 In severall Sermons at Alhalloivs Lumhard-street, By John Webster, A servant of Christ 
 and his Church. Micah 3. 5. &c. Thus saith the Lord, concerning the Prophets that 
 make my people erre, that bite with their teeth, and cry p>eace : and he that putteth not 
 into their mouths, they prepare war against him : Therefore night shall be upon them, 
 that they shall not have A visio7i, &c. The Sun shall goe down over the prophets, and the 
 Day shall he dark. Their Seers shall be ashamed, and the Deviners confounded : yea, 
 they shall All cover their lijjs, for there is no answer of God. Little information 
 concerning the author is to be gathered from these tedious effusions, which in style 
 resemble the Saints' Guide, and which were published at the desire of his hearers, 
 who were greatly delighted with his preaching, " apprehending it," says an Address 
 to the Reader, " to be the Bridegroomes voyce in him, and therefore savory to them* " 
 Webster was absent from London when they were printed : " he being now," says 
 the same Address, " at a great distance from the Presse." " Here," says a second 
 Address to the Reader, " thou shalt not find Terms of Art, nor quirks of humane 
 Learning and Fallen Wisdom (though the party through whom it was conveied excel 
 
 in natural acquirements as much as the most) but naked truth." "And 
 
 hereby thou mayest see (if thou be not blind in the carnal conceits of thy earthly 
 wisdom, as most of the Earthen Saints of our times are) what self-denial is wrought 
 in this Creature, through which the Eternal Spirit hath breathed forth these ensuing 
 precious Truths, that he having and enjoying all those humane Excellencies of 
 Learning and knowledge which are so in the worlds account," &c. To the volume 
 is appended A Responsion To certaine p>rete7ided Arguments against my Book called The 
 Saints Guide. 
 
 We have ah'eady seen that an answer to the Acaclemiarum Examen was written 
 by Seth Ward, afterwards Bishop of Salisbury : and Dr. Walter Pope, in his Life of 
 that prelate, expressly states that the author of the Examen was " one Webster of 
 Oletherowi.'" In all matters connected with the Bishoj), Dr. Pope's authority is 
 
 * The Church of Allhallows Lombard Street, with all the documents belonging to it, was destroyed 
 by the great fire of London in 1666 : John Weston, the Rector, "was for his Loyalty sequestred by the 
 Rebels, about 1642. [Merc. Rust. p. 253]." Newcourt's Repertorium Ecdesiasticum Parochiale 
 Londinense, vol. i. p. 255. " He [Weston] was sequesterd by the House about July, 1643 ; at which 
 time J. Cordell was, by the same authority, thrust in to succeed him." Walker's Account of the 
 Sufferings of the Clergy, p. 180. 
 
 t A monument was erected to the memory of Bishop Ward by his nephew, with a Latin inscription, 
 which Dr. Pope characterises as long, erroneous, heavy, and tedious, but which he gives witli what he 
 calls a "sifted and garbled" translation : the following passage of it — "contra ingrueutem Fanaticorum 
 
xxii JOHN WEBSTER AND HIS WRITINGS. 
 
 unquestionable. " I am not," says he, " altogetlier unprovided for such a Work, 
 having, during my long acquaintance with Him and his Friends, infonned myself of 
 most of the considerable Circumstances of his Life." Life of Seth, Lord Bishop of 
 Satisburi/, 1G97, p. 2. " And now I have brought him to Oxford, where I first became 
 acquainted with him, I can proceed upon more certain gi-ounds ; I promise not to 
 put any thing upon the Reader now, but what either I know or have heard attested by 
 those whom I coiUd trust." Id. \). '22. 
 
 The two work-s next to be mentioned were indisputably written liy John Webster 
 of Clitheroe. One is MeUdlncp-ajthia : or, An Uistori/ of Metals. Wherein is declared 
 tlie signs of Ores and Minerals both before and after digging, the causes and manner of 
 their r/enerationit, their kinds, sorts, and differences ; tcith the description of sundry net': 
 Metals, or Semi-Metals, and vianif other things pertaining to Mineral knowledge. Af 
 also, the Jiandling and shelving of their Vegetability, and the discussion of the most 
 difficult Questions belonging to Mystical Chymistry, as of the Philoso/Jiers Gold, their 
 Mercury, the Liquor Alkahest, Auruni potabile, and such like. Gathered forth of th'' 
 most approved Axdhors tlvat have written in Greek, Latine, or Higli^Dutch ; With 
 some Observations and Discoveries of the Author himself By John Webster Practitioner 
 in Physick and Chirurgery. Qui principia naturalia in seipso ignorai'erit, hie Jam 
 multum remotus est ab arte nostra, qiumiam non habet radicem verani supra quam inten- 
 tionem suam fundet. Geber. Sum. perfect. 1. c. i. p. 21. 
 
 Sed non ante datur lellurU operta subire, 
 Auricomos quam quis discerpserit arbore faius. 
 
 Virif. JEueid. 1. 6. 
 
 London, Printed by A. C. for Walter Kettilby at the Bishops-IIead in JJucklane*, 1G71, 
 4to. The other is The Displaying of supposed Witchcraft. Wherein is affirmed that 
 there are many soi'ts of Deceivers and Imjxjstors. And Divers persons under a passive 
 Delusion (f Melancholy and Fancy. But that there is a Corporeal League made betuu.rt the 
 Dei'il and the Witch, Or that he sucks on the Witches Body, has Carnal Copulation, or 
 that Witches are turned into Cats, Dogs, 7-aise Tempests, or the like, is utterly denied 
 and disj>rin'ed. ]\lierein also is handled, the Existence of Angels and Spirits, tJu; truth 
 of Aj>i>aritlons, the Nature <f Astral and Sydereal Sj>irits, the force of Charms and 
 Philters ; witli other abstruse matters. By John Weltster, Practitioner in I'hysick. Falsa 
 etenim opinitnus llouiiiiuia pr<forcii/niiifes, //<»// suhnn surdos, seil i('*c<icos faciunt, ita ut 
 
 liiirliiirieiu (juid littcriH iibiciiie juTUKtetorit, viiuliciitii' a^jiioscuiit Aoa(U>iiim>," l\i|ie renders thus; "he 
 wrote .... ali*o a Vindication of the UnivurHities, in n-jily t*> one Wrbnter nf Clelhrrt'tr, who had writ a 
 raiiidi't tf) provo thcin UHelcMH," Jjife of Sttit, Lord liixhop of Sululiiin/, It'!'", pp. 1S5, 188. In an 
 earlier part of the work jUHt quoted we are told, " \Vhil>t he [Ward] continue<l in that Chair, bi-siden 
 hJH I'uhlie Li'i'turuM, he wrote Heveral liooks .... one, iu Hngliiih and a jooose stile, against one Webtttrr, 
 aiiNcrtin|{ the Uiu-fulnciui of the Univeraitics." p. 27. 
 
 • luMtead of " Ihicklane" »oiue copies have *•^7. I'ant's Church- i/itrd." 
 
JOHN WEBSTER AND HIS WRITINGS. 
 
 videre nequeant qu<B aliis perspicua apptarent. Galen, lib. 8. de Comp. Med. London 
 Printed hy J. M. and are to he sold hy the Booksellers in London, 1677, folio. Now 
 Dr. Heniy More has attacked John Webster's Disjdaying of supposed Witchcraft in his 
 Opera Philosophica ; and in the " Pra^fatio Genercdissima " prefixed to that collection 
 1679, he alludes as follows, not only to it, but also to another production of the same 
 writer, which is manifestly the Academiarum Examen : " De modo autem quo in Scholiis 
 eos exceperim qui nostra impugnaverint ; est sane, festi\nis licet aliqnando & jocosus, 
 perpetuo tamen benignus. Nee certe severi ofFensique animi larvam contra quenquam 
 indui prseterquam unum Websterum. Quem non sic tractasse jir^eter decorum 
 profecto futm-um fuisset, & omuino prseteriisse pigrimi quid & ignavum. Quis enim 
 ferre potuit hominem Fatiium virorum optimorum doctissimorumque memorise tanto 
 cum supercilio ac fastu insultantem & tanta praeterea cum inscitia & imperitia ? Quis 
 summis Philosophis summisque Legislatoribus, Mose ipso non excepto, crassse igno- 
 rantise Notam, etiam eis in rebus de quibus statuunt, tm'piter impudenterque 
 inurentem 1 Quis Theologum si placet, & in sacris, ut gloriatur, a Revercndo 
 Episcopo, D'^^ M.*, Ordinibus olim institutum, ad Castra quasi Atheorum omnes 
 Angelos mere corporeos faciendo transfugientem, et Animam tamen humanam, ne 
 nimis obvium & expositum censuris hominum se redderet, fucate subdoleque 
 j)rofitendo immaterialem 1 foedumque passim seculi hujus Somatistici Parasitum 
 se gerentem et Gnathonem ? Ut taceam quam maligne & quam imperite interim ac 
 imbecilliter nostra vellicaverit, beneque a me provisa diligeuterque explorata Principia 
 qiiam impotenter, sed irrito prorsus opere labefactare couatus sit ; et cum ne 
 intelligeret quidem quae scripsi (ut videre est ex ineptis illius Objectionibus), quo 
 usum tamen honestissimorum meorum studiorum fructumque in publicum frustrari 
 posset, non objicientis solum sed & vincentis speciem, ad vulgo imponendum, ausus 
 sit dare. Talem, inquam, nactus Adversarium, Academiarum porro nostrarum, eis 
 temporibus quibus spes aliqua suberat nocendi, importunum Calumniatorem & 
 Sycophantam, nunc vero abjectissimum Somatistarum Pai-asitum, miscrumque sed 
 impudentem Lamiarum Patronum, parum profecto putabam Objectiones ejus diluere, 
 quod facillimo fit negotio, argumentaque allata confutare, nisi iusulsam pariter 
 hominis temeritatem intolerandaraque insolentiam castigarem. Sic enim fas est 
 & sic oportet fieri in hoc genus hominum, qui sanctissimum Philosophise nomen 
 usm-pantes, omnes bonos Philosophise fines niisera sua immiscendo commenta sub- 
 vertunt." p. xvi.t 
 
 Nor is evidence wanting in the works themselves that the Academiarum Examen, 
 The Displaying of supposed Witchcraft, and the Metcdlographia were written by the 
 same indindual. 
 
 * See the second quotation from the Displaying of supposed Witchcraft in p. xxiv. 
 + This passage was kindly pointed out to me by Uiy learned friend, Mr. James Crossley of 
 Manchester. 
 
.TOHX WEBSTER AND HIS WRITINGS. 
 
 The author of the Acad. Examen was educated at Cambridge.* " On the 1 2th 
 of October, 1653," says Antony Wood, "he [i.e. William Erbury] with John 
 Webster, sometimes a Cambridge scliolar, endeavoured to knock down learning and 
 the ministry togetlier, in a disputation that they then had against two ministers in a 
 church in Lombard Street in London." Athen. Oxon. vol. iii. p. 361, ed. BHss. We must 
 boar in mind while we read the preceding extract that the Sermons of the author of 
 the Acad. Examen were preached in All-Hallows, Lombard Street. " As for Dell [who 
 also attacked the Universities, and to whom Seth Ward ^\Tote an answer, publislied 
 together with his reply to Webster], lie had been educated in Cambridge ; and 
 Webster, who was then, or lately, a chaplain in the parliament army, had, as I 
 conceive, been educated there also." Id. vol. iv. p. 250. Webster of Clitheroe, wc 
 may gather from the following passage, had been educated at the same seat of 
 learning : " But I that then [i. e. in my youth] was much guilty of curiosity, and 
 loth to be imposed \\\n)W in a thing of that nature, then also knowing the way and 
 manner how all the common Jugglers about Cambi'idge and London (who make a 
 Trade of it) did perform their Tricks," &c. Tlie Displaying of supposed Witclicraft, 
 p. 62. 
 
 The author of the Acad. Examen was a preacher. Welister of Clitheroe, " prac- 
 titioner in physic," had also received holy ordei-s : " Dr. Thomas Morton, then 
 Bishop of Coventry and Lichfield : to whose memor}' I cannot but owe and make 
 manifest all due respect, because he was well kno\ni imto me, and liy the imjx)sition 
 of whose hands I was ordained Presliyter when he was Bishop of Diu'ham." Tit- 
 JJ isp/ a i/i tiff of supposed Witchcraft, i). 275, "About the year 1634, .... it 
 came to pass that this said Boy was brought into the Church of Kildwick, a lai^'o 
 parish Church, where 1 (l)eing then Curate there) was ])reaching in the afternoon." 
 Id. p. 277. 
 
 The author of the Acad. Examen had been an army-chaplain. Webster of Clitheroe, 
 it may be infeired fruin the following passage, had served in the same cajwicity ; 
 " And it will as far fail, that wounded bodies, that have been slain in the wars, aftoi- 
 the natural heat be gone, will upon motion blood any fresh or crimson blood at 
 all ; for we ourselves in the late times of Hebellion liave seen some thousands 
 of dead bodies, that have had divers wounds, and lying nako<l and V)cing tuniod 
 over and over, and by ton or twelve thrown into one pit, and yet not one of them 
 have issued any fresh and pure blood." The iJisplaj/iiitj of siipjjosed Witchcraft, 
 p. 3(16. 
 
 'i"ho author of the Acad. Examen was a believer in astrology ; so was Wobstor of 
 (Jlitheroe. 'I'iie author of the Acad. Examen was a devoted admirer of the mystic 
 chemistry of Paracilsus, ililmout, «.tc. ; so was Wcbstor of Clithoroo. 
 
 • I could find no mention of nny John Wobstcr in the Indices to Colo's voluminous MS. colloctlons in 
 tlio lirit. MuNcuiu. 
 
JOHN WEBSTER AND HIS WRITINGS. 
 
 I proceed to exhibit some striking parallel passages from the Academiarum 
 Examen, The Displaying of supposed Witchcraft, and the Metallograj)hia. 
 
 " And it is true that supposed difl&culty, and impossibility, are great causes of 
 determent from attempting or trying of new discoveries and enterprises, for the 
 sloathful person usually cryeth, go not forth, there is a Lion or Bear in the way ; 
 and if Columbus had not had the spirit to have attempted, against all seeming 
 impossibilities and discouragements, never had he gained that immortal honoiu-, nor 
 the Spaniards been Masters of the rich Indies, for we often admire why many things 
 are attempted which appear to us as impossible, and yet when attained, we wonder 
 they were no sooner set upon and tried ; so though the means here prescribed may 
 seem weak and difficult to be put into vise, yet being practised may be found easy 
 and advantagious. And I hope neivness need not be a brand to any indeavor or 
 discovery, seeing it is but a meer illative to our intellects, for that of which we were 
 ignorant being discovered to us, we call new, which ought rather to mind us of our 
 imbecility and ignorance, than to be any stain or scandal to the thing discovered ; 
 for doubtlessly he said well that accounted Philosophy to be that which taught us 
 nihil admirari, and admiration is alwaies the daughter of ignorance." Acad. Examen, 
 Epistle to the Reader. 
 
 "Antiquity and Novelty are but relations qtcoad nostrum intellectum, non quoad 
 natm'am ; for the truth, as it is fundamentally in things extra intellectum, cannot be 
 accounted either old or new. And an opinion, when first found out and divulged, is 
 as much a truth then, as when the current of hundreds or thousands of years have 
 passed since its discovery. For it was no less a truth, when in the infancy of 
 Philosophy it was holden, that there was generation and corruption in Natm-e in 
 respect of Individuals, than it is now : so little doth Time, Antiquity, or Novelty 
 alter, change, confirm, or overthi'ow tiTith ; {or Veritas est temporis f Ha, in regaird of 
 its discovery to us or by us, who must draw it forth e p)uteo Democriti. And the 
 existence of the West Indies was as well before the discovery made by Cohimbus as 
 since, and our ignorance of it did not impeach the truth of its being, neither did the 
 novelty of its discovery make it less verity, nor the years since make it more : so 
 that we ought simply to examine, whether an opinion be possible or impossible, 
 probable or improbable, true or false ; and if it be false, we ought to reject it, though 
 it seem never so venerable by the white hairs of Antiquity ; nor ought we to refuse 
 it, though it seem never so young or near its birth. For, as St. Cyprian said : 
 Error vetustatis est vetustas erroris." The Displaying of supposed Witchcraft, 
 p. 15. 
 
 "What shall I say of the Science or art of Astrology ? Shall the blind fury of 
 Misotechnists and malicious spirits deter me from giving it the commendations that 
 it deserves 1 shall the Academies who have not only sleighted and neglected it, but 
 
JOHN WEBSTER AND HIS WRITINGS. 
 
 also scoffed at it, terrifie me from expressing my thoughts of so noble and l>eneficial a 
 Science ? . . . . And therefore I cannot, without detracting from worth and 
 vertue, pass without a due Elogy in the commendation of my learned and indus- 
 trious Countrymen, Mr. Ashmole, Mr. William Lilly, Mr. Booker, Mr. Sanders. 
 Mr. Culpepper, and others, who have taken unwearied pains for the resuscitation and 
 promotion of this noble Science, and with much patience against many unworthy 
 scandals have laboured to propagate it to posterity, and if it were not beyond the 
 present scojje I have in hand, I shoiUd have given sufficient reasons in the vindication 
 of Astrology." Acad. Examen, p. 51. 
 
 "And that there is and may be a lawful use of Astrology, and many things 
 may be foretold by it, few that are judicious are ignorant." The Displat/ing of 
 supposed Witclicraft, p. 28. "And that there are great and hidden virtues both 
 in Plants and Minei'uls, especially in Metals and Precious Stones, as they are by 
 Nature produced, by Mystical Chymistry prepared and exalted, or commixed and 
 insculped in their due and fit constellations, may not only be proved by th' 
 instances foregoing, but also by the reasons and authorities of persons of grea- 
 
 judgment and experience in the secrets of nature, «fec Neither arc 
 
 those argiuiients of that learned person Gallcotus Martins, for defending th' 
 natural and lawful effects of Planetary Sigills, when prepared forth of agreeabli 
 matter, and made in their due constellations, of such small weight as sonn 
 insipid ignorants have pretended, but are convincing to any considerate and rational 
 person." Id. p. 161. 
 
 "What shall I say of Staticks, Architecture, Pneumatithmie, Stratarithmetrio, 
 and the rest enumerated by that expert and learned man, Dr. John Dee, in hU Prefacr- 
 hefure JUticIide ? " Acad. Examen, \\ 52. 
 
 " Another of our Countrymen, Dr. John Dee, the greatest and ablest Philosopher. 
 Mathematician, and Chymist that his Age (or it may bo ever since) produced, could 
 not evade the censm-e of the Monster-headed multitude, but even in his litV' 
 time was accounted a Conjurer, of which he most sadly (and not without caust.') 
 complaineth in his most learned Preface to Euclid." The Displnt/ing of supposed 
 Witclwraft, p. 7. 
 
 " Was not Magick amongst the Persians accepted for a sublime Sapiena\ and tho 
 science of the universal consent of things? And wore not those nu>n (sii])posed 
 Kings) that cunie from the East styled by that honourable name Moyol, .Mjigi, or 
 Wisemen, which the Holy Ghost gives unto them, thereby to denote out that glorious 
 mystery of whicli they were made parUikers by the revelation of that spirit t)f life 
 and light? Neither do I liere Apologize for that impious and execrable Magick, tliat 
 either is used for the hurt and destruction of numkind, or pix'tends to gain know- 
 ledge from him wlio is the grand enemy of all the sons of Adam ; no. that 1 truly 
 
JOKN^ WEBSTER AND HIS WRITINGS. 
 
 abominate But that which I defend is that noble and laudable Science," &c. 
 
 Acad. Examen, p. 69. 
 
 " It was not in vain superstitious Magick (wherewith, as Couringius laboureth to 
 prove, they were much infected), but in the laudable Sciences of Arithmetick 
 Politicks, Geometry, Astronomy, and their Hieroglyphick learning, which doul^tless 
 contained natural and lawful Magick (such as those Magicians were partakers of, that 
 came to worship Chi-ist, whose learning all the Fathers and Interpreters do justifie to 
 be good, natm-al, and lawful), the Art of Medicine, and knowledge of natural and 
 artificial things, as in the next Branch we shall more at large make appear." 
 Metallographia, p. 8. 
 
 " Paracelsus, that singular ornament of Germany." Acad. Examen, j). 70. 
 " That totius Germanice decus, Paracelsus." The Displaying of supposed Witch- 
 craft, p. 9. 
 
 " Now how false the Aristotelian Philosophy is in itself is in part made cleer, and 
 more is to be said of it hereafter, and therfore truth and experience will declare the 
 imperfection of that medicinal knowledge that stands iipon no better a basis. For 
 Galen, their great Coryphceus and Antesignanus, hath laid down no other principles to 
 build medicinal skill upon, than the doctrine of Aiistotle ; . . . . For this same author 
 .... hath said enough sufficiently to confute and overthrow the whole Fabrick of 
 the Galenical learning, which here I forbear to insert. And therefore it is very 
 strange that the Schools, nay, in a manner, the whole world, should be inchanted 
 and infatuated to admire and own this ignorant Pagan [Galen], who being am- 
 bitious of erecting his own fame," &c. Acad. Examen, pp. 72-3. " That neither 
 antiquity nor novelty may take place above verity, lest it debaiTe us fi-om a more 
 diligent search after tiiith and Science. Neither that universality of opinion be any 
 president or rule to sway our judgements from the investigation of knowledge ; for 
 what matter is it whether we foUow many or few, so the truth be om- guide ? for we 
 Bhould not follow a multitude to do evil, and it is better to accompany verity single, 
 than falsity and errour with never so great a number. Neither is it fit that Authority 
 (whether of Aristotle or any other) should inchain us, but that there may be a general 
 freedome to try all things, and to hold fast that which is good, that so there might 
 be a Philosophical liberty to be bound to the authority of none but tmth itself, then 
 will men take pains, and arts will flourish." Id., pp. 109-10. 
 
 " If the comparison I use be thought too large, and the rule be put only as to 
 the greater part of the Learned that Jlre in Evirope, yet it will hold good that the 
 greatest part of the Learned are not to be adhered to because of their numerous- 
 
 ness ; nor that the rest are to be rejected because of their paucity did 
 
 not the gi-eatest number of the Physicians in Europe altogether adhere to the 
 Doctrine of Galen, though now in Germany, France, England, and many other 
 
JOHN WEBSTER AND HIS WRITINGS. 
 
 Nations, the most have exploded it ? And \ra8 not the Aristotelian Philosophy 
 embraced by tlie greatest part of all the Learned in Europe 1 And have not the 
 Cartesians and others sufficiently now manifested the en-ours and imperfections of 
 it ? .... So that multitude, a.s multitude, ought not to lead or sway u.s, but truth 
 itself. .... It is not safe nor rational to receive or adhere to an opinion because of 
 its Antiquity : nor to reject one because of its Novelty." Tfie Displaying of supposed 
 Witchcraft, p. 14. 
 
 "Especially since our ncver-sufficiently honoured Countryman Doctor Hiirvey 
 discovered that wonderful secret of the bloods circularj- motion." Acad. Examen, 
 
 p. 74. 
 
 " Our learned and most industrious Anatomist Dr. Harvey, who (notwithstandmg 
 the late cavils of some) fii-st found forth and evidenced to the World that rare and 
 profita])le discovery of the Circulation of the blood." T/w Displaying of suppo.^,.1 
 Witchcraft, p. 3. 
 
 " Our learned Countryman Dr. Fludd." Acad. Examen, p. 74. 
 "Our CountiTman Dr. Flud, a person of much learning." The Di.^playing of 
 supposed WitcJicraft, p. 319. 
 
 " Secondly, they are as ignorant in the most admirable and soul-ravishing know- 
 ledge of the three gi-eat HyiDOstatical principles of nature. Salt, Sulphur, and Mercury, 
 first mentioned by Basilius Valentinus, and afterwards clearly and evidently mani 
 
 fested by that miracle of industry and pains Theophrastus Tamoelsus. 
 
 And though Helmont, with the experiments of his Gcheunal Hre and st.nie other soli.l 
 arguments, labour the labefactation of this truth, yet doth he not prove that they aiv 
 not Hypostatical principles, but onely that they ai-e not the ultimate reduction 
 that the possibility of art can produce, which he truly proves to be water." Acad. 
 E.ramt'n, p. 7G. 
 
 "The ancient Chymical Philosophers lield tliat the matter out of which the 
 Metals were generated, were Sul])hur and Mercury ; but Rivsilius Valentinus. 
 Paracelsus, and the latter Chymists, have added Salt as a third." Metallvjvaphia, 
 J). 72. "Sometimes (and jjcrhaps not untruly) tlioy utHnu tlie Metixls to be gene- 
 rated of the element of Water; a.s Helmont, who proves nut onely that metalliok 
 bodies, but also all other Concretes to Imvo their rise from tIioiir.>, and .Imioiistratoth 
 the immutability of elemental Water." /</., p. 70. [7.'<.] 
 
 " Another is no less ruwlty and hurtful than the preeedent, and that is their too 
 nmeh a<lniiriug of, luid adhering to anti.|uity, or the j\idgement of men that lived in 
 ages far removed from us, jis though they had known idl things, iind left nothing for 
 the discovery of those that came after in sul)so(pient ages .\nd intkHul we 
 
JOHN WEBSTER AND HIS WRITINGS. 
 
 TY1T 
 
 usually attribute knowledge and experience to men of the most years, and therefore 
 these being the latter ages of the world should know more, for the gi-andfevity of the 
 world ought to be accounted for antiquity, and so to be ascribed to our times, and 
 not to the Junior age of the world, wherein those that we call the antients did live, 
 so that antiquitas sceculi, juventus viundi." Acad. Examen, pp. 93-4. 
 
 " In regard of Natural Philosophy and the knowledge [sic\ of the properties of 
 created things, and the knowledge of them, we preposterously reckon former Ages, and 
 the men that lived in them, the Ancients ; which in regai-d of production and gene- 
 ration of the Individuals of their own Species are so ; but in respect of knowledge and 
 experience this Age is to be accounted the most ancient. For as the learned Lord 
 Bacon saith : Indeed to speak truly, Antiquitas secidi, juventus mundi, Antiquity of 
 time is the youth of the World. Certainly our times are the ancient times, when the 
 World is now ancient, and not those which we count ancient, ordine retrogrado, by a 
 computation backward from our own times ; and yet so much credit hath been given 
 to old Authors as to invest them with the power of Dictators, that their words 
 should stand, rather than admit them as Consuls to give advice." The Displaying 
 of supposed Witchcraft, p. 15. 
 
 It is certain, therefore, that John Webster the di-amatist, and John Webster of 
 Clitheroe, were different persons : the former was a writer for the stage as early as 
 1601 ; the latter was not bom till 1610, and died in 1682*. 
 
 * See Whitaker's Hist, of Whalley and Clitheroe, pp. 285, 493, ed. 1818. Dr. Whitaker seems never 
 to have suspected that Webster of Clitheroe, on whose learning and talents he bestows just praise, was 
 the author of the Academiarum Examen. 
 
 I may notice that A Declaration of the Lords and Commons, dated July 6th, 1644, was put forth 
 against a John Webster and others as " Incendiaries between the United Provinces and the Kingdom 
 and Parliament of England ; " and that all the said " Incendiaries" were merchants. 
 
ADDENDUM. 
 
 In the prefatory remarks on The White Devil I have accidentally omitted to mention (what was 
 obligingly communicated to me in a letter from Mr. Jourdain de Gatwick, June 19th, 1852) that "it is 
 taken from the Life of Sixtus V"" ; the husband of Vittoria being the nephew of the Pope." — Vide 
 Biogr. Univ. sub "Accoramboni (Virginie) " : — in the same work, sub "Sixte-Quint," is a reference 
 to a publication, which I have not seen, entitled "L'ffistoire de Vittoria Accoramhona, 3.' edition, 
 par M. Adry. " 
 
i 
 
THE WHITE DEVIL; 
 
 OR, 
 
 VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
The WTiite IHvtl, or, t}u Tr^edi/ of Paulo Gwnlano Vrnni, Dukt of Bradiiano, WiOi tiu Lijt av! . • 
 
 I Corombona the famou* Venetian Curtizan. Acted by the Qtieene* MaUttia Servant*. Written by John H'tbiter. Hon 
 inferiora ttciUtu, Loivlon, Printed by N. 0. for Tliomat Archer, and are to be told at hi* Shop in, Pope* head PaUaee, 
 neere the Royall Exchange. 1612. 4to. 
 
 The White DevH, or, the Tragedy of Paulo Giordano Vrtini, Ihiie of Brachiano, With the Lift, and Death, of Viiioria 
 Corombona, the famou* Venetian Curtizan. At it hath bin diiter* time* Acted, by the Queene* Maiettie* teruant*, at the 
 Phoenix, in Vrury-lane. Written by John Webtter. jVon inferiora *eeutu*. London, Printed by I. A', for Hugh Perry, 
 and are to be told at hit thop at the tigne of the Harrow in Brittain*-hurte. 1631. 4to. 
 
 There were also editions in 1C65, and 1672 ; and an alteration of it by N. Tate, called Injured Love, or the Cruel 
 Hutband, appeared in 1707. It has been reprinted in the different editions of Dodsley's Collection (^ Old Play*, ard 
 in the Ancient British Drama. 
 
 The reader who is familiar with original editions of our early poets will not be surprised to learn that some 
 copies of the 4to. of 1012 differ slightly in several places from other copies of the *ame edition ; a collation of my own 
 copy with that in the Garrick collection (vol. H. 22.) has furnished some various readings, which I have given in 
 the course of my notes. Such differences arose no doubt from alterations having been made in the text after u 
 portion of the impression had been worked off.* I have not thought it necessary to set down every minute 
 variation found in the 4tos. of 166.5 and 1672, as, though they in several places rectify the errors of the two ear 'Jest 
 4t08., they are comparatively of little authority. The notes which have the n.tmes of Reed, Steevens, Gilchrist, 
 and Collier attached to them, are taken from the second a:id third editions of Dodsley's Collection oj Old Play*. 
 
 In a rare volume of poetry. Epigrams llieological, pLuosoplucat, and romantich. Six book*, alto the Soeratid: 
 Session, or the Arraignment and Conviction of Julius Scaliger, with other Select Poems. By S. Sheppard, 1651, 8vo, aro 
 the following lines : 
 
 " On Mr. Webster's most excellent Tragedy, called the White Devill. 
 
 " Wee will no more admire Euripides, 
 Nor praise the Tragick streines of Sophocles ; 
 For why t thou in this Tragedie hast fram'd 
 All reall worth that can in them bo nam'd. 
 How lively arc thy persons fitted, and 
 How pretty are thy lines ! thy Verses stanrl 
 Like unto pretious Jewels set in gold. 
 And grace thy fluent Prose. I once was told 
 By one well skil'd in Arts, he thought thy Play 
 Was onely worthy Fame to bearo away 
 From all before it. Brachianos 111, 
 Murthering his Dutchessc, hath by thy rare skill 
 Made him renown'd : Flamineo such another, 
 The Devils darling, Murtheror of his brother. 
 His part most strange (given him to Act by thoc) 
 Doth gaine him Credit, and not Calumnio : 
 Vittoria Corombona, that fam'd Whore, 
 Desp'rato Lodovico weltring iu his gore. 
 Subtile Francisco, all of them shall bee 
 Gaz'd at as Comets by Pogtoritie : 
 And thou moano time with nevor withering Biiycs 
 
 Sh:.lt frown. m1 I ),y •■U tlirit n iil tliv Ij\yf«." 
 
 Lib. V. Kpig. 27, pp. 133, 134. 
 
 From A Funeral Elegy on thf il.tilh if tin- /hiih.k,* netnr, Hirhmd lUtrbadgt (printed iu Mr. Collier's Memoirt of thf 
 principal acton in the jilayt of Sluihespiare, p. 62, ed. Shakes. Soc.) wo Icum tliat the jiart of Bnu-hinui> in The WhUr 
 Devil waa iierfonnod by Burbadgo. 
 
 * This is also the case with the old copies of some other of our author^i play*. Giflbrd dlacorered Btmtlnr 
 vnrlntlouH in aiuiiu of the early 4toH. of MiuMingcr ; vido his Introduction, p. clii. ed. IS13 : mo too tho prefatory 
 remnrka to I'uoIc'h llnnonr of the darter in my cd. of his If'oril*. 
 
 t Par u)hy\ i. o. ItcoiiiiHc, fur tho roa«ou that. 
 
 i 
 
TO THE READER. 
 
 In publishing this tragedy, I do but challenge to myself that liberty which other men have ta'eu 
 before me : not that I affect praise by it, for nos hcec novimus esse nihil ;* only, since it was acted in 
 so dull a time of winter, presented in so + open and black a theatre, J that it wanted (that which is the 
 only grace and setting-out of a tragedy) a full and understanding auditory ; and that, since that time, 
 I have noted most of the people that come to that play-house resemble those ignorant asses, who, 
 visiting stationers' shops, their use is not to inquire for good books, but new books ; I present it to the 
 general view with this confidence, — 
 
 Nee ronclios metues maliguiorum, 
 Nee scombi-is tunicas dabis molestas. § 
 
 If it be objected this is no true dramatic poem, I shall easily confess it ; non potes in nugas dicere 
 plura nieas ipse ego quam dixi. || Willingly, and not ignorantly, in this kind have I faulted : for, 
 should a man present to such an auditory the most sententious tragedy that ever was written, observing 
 all the critical laws, as height of style, and gravity of person, enrich it with the sententious Chorus, and, 
 as it were, liven death in the passionate and weighty Nuntius ; yet, after all this divine rapture, 
 
 dura messorum t7ia,^(the breath that comes from the uncapable multitude is able to poison it^ 
 and, ere it be acted, let the author resolve to fix to every scene this of Horace, 
 
 Hsec porcis liodie comedenda relinques.** 
 
 To those who report I was a long time in finishing this tragedy, I confess, I do not write with a goose 
 quill winged with two feathers ; and if they will needs make it my fault, I must answer them with that 
 of Euripides to AlcestideSjtt a tragic writer. Alcestides objecting that Euripides had only, in three 
 days, composed three verses, whereas himself had written three hundred, " Thou tellest truth," quoth 
 he, " but here's the difference, — thine shall only be read for three days, whereas mine shall continue 
 three ages." 
 
 Detraction is the sworn friend to ignorance : for mine own part, I have ever truly cherished my good 
 opinion of other men's worthy labours ; especially of that full and heightened style of Master Chapman ;\/ 
 the laboured and understanding works of Master Jonson; the no less worthy composures of the 
 both worthily excellent Master Beaumont and Master Fletcher ; and lastly (without wrong last to 
 be named), the right happy and copious industry of Master Shakespeare, Master Dekker, and Master 
 Heywood ; wishing what I write may be read by their light ; protesting that, in the strength of mine 
 own judgment, I know them so worthy, that though I rest silent in my own work, yet to most of theirs 
 
 1 dare (without flattery) fix that of Martial, 
 
 Non norunt hsec monumenta mori. JJ 
 
 * Ms hac, &c.] Martial, xiii. 2. 
 
 t dull a time oftointer, presented in so] These words are ound only in the 4to. of 1612. 
 
 t black a theatre] "I think we should read blank, i.e. vacant, unsupplied with articles necessary toward 
 theatrical representation.", Steevens — " Qj. bleak ?" MS. note by Malone. 
 
 § Nee ronchos, &c.] Martial, iv. 87. 
 
 II non potes, &c.] Martial, xiii. 2. 
 
 IT dura, &c.] Horace, Epod. iii. 
 
 ** Ha:c porcis, &c.J Epist. I. 7. 
 
 tt that of Eunpides to Alcestides, &c.3 " Itaque etiam quod Alcestidi tragico poetae [Euripides] respondit, probabile : 
 apud quern cum quereretur, quod eo triduo non ultra tres versus maximo impenso labore deducere potuisset, atqUe 
 is se centum perfacile soripsisse gloriaretur : ' Sed hoc,'inquit, 'iuterest, quod tui ia triduum tantummodo, mei 
 vero in omne tempus suiiicient. '" Valerius Maximus, Lib. iii. 7, — where the word "Alcestidi" is very 
 questionable. 
 
 tt Nonnoruni, &c.] x. 2. 
 
 B 2 
 

 DRA^IATIS PERSONS. 
 
 MoNTicEi^o, a cardinal, afterwards Pope. 
 
 Francisco de Meoicis, Duke of Florence. 
 
 Brachiano. otherwise Paulo Giordano Ursini, Duke of Brachiano, husband to Isabella. 
 
 Giovanni, his son. 
 
 Count Ludovico. 
 
 Camillo, biisbaud to Vittoria. 
 
 Flamineo, brother to Vittoria, secretary to Ckachiano. 
 
 Marcello, brother to Vittoria, attendant on Francisco de Medicis. 
 
 Hortensio. 
 
 Antonelli. 
 
 Gasparo. 
 
 Fabnese. 
 
 Carlo. 
 
 Peoro. 
 
 Doctor. 
 
 Con.jurer. 
 
 Lawyer. 
 
 Jaques. 
 
 Julio. 
 
 CHRlSTOPHf RO. 
 
 Isabella, sister to Francisco de Medicis. wife to Brachiano 
 
 Vittoria Corombona, married first to Camillo, afterwards to BRACiiiANn 
 
 Cornelia, mother to Vittoria. 
 
 Zanche, a Moor, waiting-woman to Vittoria. 
 
 Matron of the House of Convcrtites. 
 
 Ambassadors, Physicians, Officers, Attendants, Ac. 
 
 /» menlttn aiictoriM. 
 
 Scire vdu rpiid tit tutUim' .juo percitet aMtm t 
 
 Bn, tihi. fi tui.ia*. rum mir, miUt taltt.' 
 
 J. Wilson. 
 
 • These linos are not found in the two eorlioat 4toB. In the Uo. of IflOS thev have i),o i„u i 
 to them: In that of 1072 they arc signed y. irUsoH. i". oi low uie> ha^o i),o ,„i„ .1. ,,j,.,Mod 
 
THE WHITE DEVIL 
 
 YITTOEIA COHOMBONA. 
 
 Eater Count Lodovico,* Antonelli, ajid Gaspako. 
 
 Lod. Banish'd ! 
 
 Ant. It griev'd lue much to hear the sentence. 
 
 Lod. Ha, ha ! Democritus, thy gods 
 That govern the whole world ! courtly reward 
 And punishment. Fortune's a ri^^ht whor e : 
 
 If she give aught, she deals it in small parcels, 
 .That she may take away all at one swoojp.-t- 
 This 'tis to have great enemies : — God quit J them! 
 Your wolf no longer seems to be a wolf 
 Than when she's hungry. 
 
 Gasp. You term those enemies 
 Are men of princely rank. 
 
 Lod. 0, I pray for them : 
 The violent thunder is ador'd by those 
 Are pash'd § in pieces by it. 
 
 Ant. Come, my lord, 
 You are justly doom'd : look but a little back 
 Into your former life ; you have in three years 
 Ruin'd the noblest eai'ldom. 
 
 Gas2y. Your followers 
 Have swallow'd you like mummia,|| and, being sick 
 
 * Enter Count Lodovico, &IC.1 Scene. Rome. Astreet[?| 
 
 t all at one swoop] "So Shakespeare ; 
 ' What, all my pretty chickeus and their dam, 
 At one fell swoop ?' ilacbitli, act iv. sc. 3." Steeven's. 
 
 X quit] i.e. requite. 
 
 § pasli'd] The 4tos. of 1665 and 1672 " dasht." —Itie 
 meaning of pasU and dash are thus viglitly distinguished 
 by Gifford : "the latter signifies to throw one thing 
 with violence against another : the former, to strike a 
 thing with such force as to crush it to pieces." Note on 
 !Massinger's Virgin Martyr, act ii. sc. 2. 
 
 II mummia'] The most satisfactoiy accoiint of the 
 different kinds of mummy formerly used in medicine, 
 is to be found in a quotation from Hill's Materia Medica, 
 in Johnson's Dictionary, v. ninmmy, to which I refer the 
 reader.— "The Egyptian mummies," says Sir Thomas 
 Brown, * ' which Cambyses or time hath spared, avarice 
 
 With such unnatural and horrid physic, 
 Vomit you up i'the kennel. 
 
 A nt. All the damnable degrees 
 Of drinkings have you stagger'd through : one 
 
 citizen 
 Is lord of two fair manors call'd you master 
 Only for caviai'e. 
 
 Gas}}. Those noblemen 
 Which were invited to your prodigal feasts 
 (Wherein the phoenix scarce could scape your 
 
 throats) 
 Laugh at your misery ; as fore-deeming you 
 An idle meteor, which, drawn forth the earth. 
 Would be soon lost i'the air. 
 
 Ant. Jest upon you, 
 And say you were begotten in an earthquake, 
 You have ruin'd such fair lordships. 
 
 Lod. Very good. 
 This well goes with two buckets : I must tend 
 The pouring out of either. 
 
 Gasj:). Worse than these ; 
 You have acted certain murders here in Rome, 
 Bloody and full of horror. 
 
 Lod. 'Las, they were flea-bitings. 
 Why took they not my head, then ? 
 
 Gasp. 0, my lord, 
 The law doth sometimes mediate, thinks it good 
 Not ever to steep violent sins in blood : 
 This gentle penance may both end yoiir crimes,/ 
 And in the example better these bad times. ^ 
 
 Lod. So ; but I wonder, then, some great men 
 scape 
 This banishment : there's Paulo Giordano Ursini, 
 
 now consumeth. Mummie is become merchandise, Miz- 
 raira cures wounds, and^Pharaoh is sold for balsams" 
 Urn-Burial, p. 28. ed. 1658. 
 
G 
 
 THE A\TIITE DEVIL; OR, VITr<»]'T\ COROUBONA. 
 
 The Duke of Bracbiano, now lives iu Rome, 
 
 And by close panderism seeks to prostitute 
 The honour of Vittoria Coromboua ; 
 Vittoria, she that might have got my pardon 
 For one kiss to the duke. 
 
 An(. Have a full man within you. 
 We sec that trees bear no such * pleasant fruit 
 There where they grew first as where they are 
 
 now set : 
 Perfumes, the more they are chaf'd, t the more 
 
 they render 
 Their pleasing scents ; and so aflSiction 
 Exprcsseth virtue fully, whether true 
 Or else adulterate. 
 
 Lod. Leave your painted comforts : 
 I'll make Italian cut-works + in their guts, 
 If ever I retm-n, 
 Oasp. 0, sir ! 
 Lod. I am patient. 
 I have seen some ready to be executed 
 Give pleasant looks and money, and grown familiar 
 With the knave hangman : bo do I : I thank 
 
 them, 
 And would account them nobly merciful, 
 Would they despatch me quickly. 
 
 Afit. Fare you well : 
 We shall find time, I doubt not, to repeal 
 Your baui.shment. ^ 
 
 Lod. I am ever bound to you : * 
 
 This is the world's alms ; pray, make use of it. 
 , Great men sell sheep thus to be cut in pieces, 
 When first they have shorn them bare and sold 
 their fleeces. [Exeunt. 
 
 &nnrl.% JSnlcr'BnKcaf ako,\\ Cavu.lo, Fi.amineo, 
 ViTioiiiA CouOMBoNA, and AttendauU. 
 
 Bvacli. Your best of rest ! 
 Vit. Cor. Unto my lord, the duke, 
 
 * imc7i] Some copies of tlio 4to. of 1612 " tirut." 
 \ Ptr/umta, Oie more thtyare chafd, iic] Compare Loi^ 
 Bacon's liKtayB: "Certainly virtue is like precious odours, 
 most fi-ngmnt wliou tlioy are iuoousod or crusliod ; for 
 prosperity dulli best discover vice, but advui-sity dotli 
 boat discover virtue." 0/ Adverfilij. 
 Our autlior iu Thr Dacheu of Matfi lias — 
 
 " Mau, lil<a to cassia, is prov'd beat, boing bnils'd." 
 
 Act in. 80. G. 
 
 { cvd-worl-t] Todd, in his additions to Johnson's Die- 
 
 tioiuiri/, wroMKly uxpluiiiH cutreorlc to be "worlc iu eni- 
 
 broldi-ry " : it is a Iciiid of ojieu-worlc, niiide by cutting 
 
 out nr Htniiipini;. 
 
 I Stuii't] I.e. u particular sounding of trumpets or 
 cumots, nut a floiirisli, iis it litis soiiiotlmoH been ex- 
 plained. — In the 4l()S. tlils portion of llie s (ago direct ion 
 In put on tlio margin oppoHitu tlio prooeding speech of 
 IxkIuvIco, un>l given thiiH " Unlir S,imle." 
 
 II Enter Urachianu, Ac. J Heeno. 'J'lio Hume. An outer 
 apartment Iu Cumillo'a Iiouho. 
 
 The beet of welcome i— More lights ! attend the 
 duke. 
 
 \^Exeu.nt Camillo and Vittoria Coromboxa. 
 
 Brack. Flamineo, — 
 
 Flam. My lord ? 
 
 Brack. Quite lost, Flamineo. 
 
 Flam. Tursue your noble wishes, I am pr'ompt 
 As lightning to your service. 0, my lord, 
 The fair Vittoria, my happy sister, [ Wkieper. 
 
 Shall give you present audience. — Gentlemen, 
 Let the caroche go on ; and 'tis his pleasure 
 You put out all your torches, and depart. 
 
 [Exeunt Attendants. 
 
 Brack. Are we so happy ? 
 
 Flam. Can't be otherwise ? 
 Observ'd you not to-night, my honour'd lord, 
 Which way soe'er you went, she threw her eyes ? 
 I have dealt already with her chamber-maid, 
 Zanche the Moor; and she is wondrous proud 
 To be the agent for so high a spirit. 
 
 Brack. We are happy above thought, because 
 'bove merit. 
 
 Flam. 'Bove merit ! — we may now talk freely 
 — 'bove merit ! What is't you doubt? her coy- 
 ness 1 that's but the superficies of lust most 
 women have : yet why should ladies blu.sh to 
 he.ar that named which they do not fear to 
 handle ? 0, they are politic \^iey know our desire 
 is increased by thedifficulty of enjoyiug^vhercas 
 satiety is a blunt, weary, and drowsy passion.* 
 If the buttery-hiitch at court stood continually 
 open, there would be nothing so passionate 
 crowding, nor hot suit after the beverage. 
 
 Brack. O, but her jealous husband. 
 
 Flam. Hang him ! a gilder that hath his brains 
 perished with quicksilver is not more cold in the 
 liver : the great barriers moulted not more 
 feathers + than ho hath shed hairs, by the con- 
 fession of his doctor : an Irish gamester that will 
 play himself uaked,+ and then wagcall downwards 
 at hazard, is not more venturouB : so unable to 
 
 • vhertai iatut,v w a Muni, wtary, and drouny jxuiion] 
 " Fie on this tatietie, 'tit a dul, Olunt, vear^, and droteti* 
 pauion." tlaratou's raratitajter or the FaicH*, 1006, 
 8ig. F. i. 
 
 t tin great barrieri moutted not iMore /ealhert] " i. •. 
 more fuikthers wore not dislodged from the holmeta of 
 the cumlutlantH at the gro.'tt tiltins-match." Stekvbjis. 
 
 ] an Jritli ffttmritrr tti'' " ' ' ' '| " B*r- 
 
 naby Rich iit his iWir . \ p. 8S, 
 
 •ays; 'There is 1 1, e. in I ii.rlux>d, 
 
 cikllod by tho namo of AiirroirM, and tiioso bo cunimou 
 gamsloni, that do only oxoiviso playing nt cards, and 
 Ihey will play away their mauteU, and (heir shirts from 
 thoir backs, and when they have nothing left thoi.i, they 
 will truiuo themsolvcH in slniw : this is tho life Ihey load, 
 and troxn this they will uot bj rocUimed.' " Kkied. 
 
THE ^rEITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA C0R0:MB0X. 
 
 please a woman, that, like a Dutcli doublet, all his 
 back is shrunk into his breeches. 
 Shrewd you within this closet, good my lord : 
 Some trick now must be thought on to divide 
 My brother-in-law from his fail- bed-fellow. ; 
 
 Brack. 0, should she fail to come ? 
 
 Flum. I must not have your lordship thus 
 unwisely amorous. I myself have loved a lady, 
 and pursued her with a great deal of under-age 
 protestation, whom some three or four gallants 
 that have enjoyed would with all their hearts 
 have been glad to have been rid of : 'tis just like 
 a summer bird-cage in a garden ; the birds that 
 ai-e without despair to get in, and the birds that 
 are within despair, and are in a consumption, for 
 fear they shall never get out. Away, away, my 
 lord ! [Exit Brachiano. 
 
 See, here he comes. This fellow by his apparel 
 Some men would judge a politician ; 
 But call his wit in question, you shall find it 
 Merely an ass in's foot-cloth.* 
 
 Re-enter CAMiLLO.f 
 
 How now, brother ! 
 What, travelling to bed to your kind wife \ 
 
 Cam. I assure you, brother, no ; my voyage lies 
 More northei'ly, in a far colder clime : 
 Bl I do not well I'emember, I protest, 
 When I last lay with her. 
 
 Flam. Strange you should lose your count. 
 
 Cam. We never lay together, but ere morning 
 There grew a flaw J between us. 
 
 Flam. 'Thad been your part 
 To have made up that flaw. 
 
 Cam. Tnie, but she loathes 
 I should be seen in't. 
 
 Flam. "VMiy, sir, what's the matter ? 
 
 Cam. The duke your master visits me, I thank 
 himj 
 And I perceive how, like an earnest bowler, 
 He very passionately leans that way 
 He should have his bowl run. 
 
 * xn'sfoot-tloiK] i. e. in his housings. See notes of the 
 commentators on Shakespeare's Richard III. Act in. so. 4. 
 
 t Re-enter Camillo] It is hardly possible to mark with 
 any certainty the stage-business of this play. Though 
 Brachiano, who has just withdrawn into a "closet," ap- 
 pears again at p. 9 when Flamineo calls him, — it would 
 seem that the audience were to imagine that a change of 
 scene took place here, — to another apartment of the house 
 (at p. 8 Flamineo says, ' ' Sister, my lord attends you in the 
 banqueting-house "). In our author's days there was no 
 painted movable scenery ; and consequently a great deal 
 was left to the imagination of the spectators. 
 
 t flavi] "i^taw anciently signified a (7its<, or 6fa«<; [ — a 
 sense in which it is stUl used by seamen. — D.] it here 
 means a quarrel." Reed. 
 
 Flam. I hope you do not think — 
 
 Cam. That noblemen bowl booty? faith, his 
 cheek 
 Hath a most excellent bias f it would fain 
 Jump with my mistress. 
 
 Flam. Will you be an ass, 
 Despite yourf Aristotle ? or a cuckold, 
 Contrary to your Ephemeriacs, 
 Which shows you under what a smiling planet 
 You were first swaddled 1 
 
 Cam. Pew-wew, sir, tell not me 
 Of planets nor of Ephemerides : 
 A man may be made a cuckold in the day-time, 
 When the stars' eyes are out 
 
 Flam. Sir, God b'wi'you: + 
 I do commit you to your pitiful pillow 
 Stufi''d with horn-shavings. 
 
 Cam. Brother, — 
 
 Flam. God refuse me,§ 
 flight I advise you now, your only course 
 Were to lock up your wife. 
 
 Cam. 'Twere very good. 
 
 Flam. Bar her the sight of revels. 
 
 Cam. Excellent. 
 
 Flam. Let her not go to church, but like a hound 
 In lyam |! at your heels. 
 
 Cam. 'Twere for her honour. 
 
 Flam. And so you should be certain in one 
 fortnight. 
 Despite her chastity or innocence. 
 To be cuckolded, which yet is in suspence : 
 This is my counsel, and I ask no fee for't. 
 
 Cam. Come, you know not where my night-cap 
 wrings me. 
 
 Flam. Wear it o' the old fashion; let your 
 
 * faith, his cheek 
 
 Hath a most excellent bias] "So in Troilus and Cressida, 
 a iv. s. 5 ; 
 
 ' Blow, villain, till thy sphered bias cheek 
 Out-swell the coUc of puff 'd Aquilon.'" Reed. 
 
 t your} Both the earliest 4tos. "you." 
 
 X God b'ici'you] In the 4tos. (as it is frequently spelt in 
 old plays) "God boy you." 
 
 § God refuse me] A fashionable imprecation at the time 
 this play was written : "would so m&ny else," says 
 Taylor, the water-poet, "in their desperate madnes de- 
 sire God to Damne them, to Renounce them, to Forsake 
 them, to Confound them, to Sinke them, to Refuse 
 them?" "Against Cursing and Swearing," Works, 1630, 
 p. 45. Compare also Middletou's Family of Love; 
 
 "Mis. P. And what do they swear by, now their 
 money is gone? 
 
 Club. Why, by ), and God refuse them." 
 
 Works, ii. 122, ed. Dyce. 
 (In the passage just quoted the old copy has a break 
 between brackets as given here.) 
 
 II lyam,] All the 4tos. have " Zeon" ; which Steevens 
 (as he well might) suspected to be an error of the press 
 for learn (or lyam), i. e. leash. 
 
8 
 
 THE WHITE DEVIL: OR, VITTURJA COROMbONA. 
 
 large ears come through, it will be mor>' 
 nay, I will be bitter: — bar your wifo of her 
 entertainment: women are more urflUogly and 
 more gloriouslj' chaste, when they are least re- 
 Btrained of their liberty. It KCf'.iis you would be a 
 fine capricious mathematically jealous coxcomb; 
 take the height of your own horns with a Jacob's 
 staff, afore they are up. These politic inclosures 
 for paltry muttr/ti make more rebellion in the 
 flesh tlian all 'Aie provocative electuaries doctors 
 have uttered * since last jubilee. 
 
 Cam. This doth not physic me. 
 
 Flam. It seems you are jealous : I'll show you 
 the error of it by a familiar example. I have 
 seen a pair of spectacles fashioned with such 
 perspective art, that, lay down but one twelve 
 pence o' the board, 'twill appear as if there were 
 twenty : now, should you wear a pair of these 
 spectacles, and see your wife tying her shoe, you 
 would imagine twenty hands were taking up of 
 your wife's clothes, and this would put you into 
 a horrible causeless fury. 
 
 Cam. The fault there, sir, is not in the eye-sight. 
 
 Flam, True ; but they that have the yellow 
 -jaundice think .ill objects they look on to be 
 yellow.t Jealousy is worser : her fits present to 
 a man, like so many bubbles in a ba.sou of water, 
 twenty several crabbed faces ; many times makes 
 his own shadow his cuckold-maker. See, she 
 comes. 
 
 /{(r-oi/»>)- VlTToniA ConouiiONA. 
 
 What reason have jou to be jealous of this 
 creature ? what an ignorant ass or flattering 
 knave might he bo counted, that should write son- 
 nets to her eyes, or call her brow the snow of Ida 
 or ivory of Corintli, or compare bar hair to the 
 black-bird's bill, when 'tis liker the black-bird's 
 feather ! This is all : bo wise, I will make you 
 friends; and you shall go to bed together. Marry, 
 look you, it shall not be your seeking; do you 
 Btaod upon that by any moans : walk you aloof; 
 I would not have you seen iu't. [Camillo ret tret.] 
 Sister, my lord atteuds you in the banquetting- 
 house. Your hu8ban<l is wondrojis discontented. 
 VU. Our. I did nothing to di.splease him : I 
 carved to him at Rupper-timc.t 
 
 • uUnrtl] 1. 0, vended. 
 
 ( — Ihtj/lhal hart Iht ytllou JaumlUtihinl- all oltjttU Ihey 
 toot on (lit' i/.f ',..,; "TliU tlioii({litl» adopted by Po|io: 
 
 ' All >•• ! (lull th' liilciU'd ii|«y, 
 
 A»iil. tu tlin tniiiiilloM »y«.'" HtkrvKNR. 
 
 H" ' ■ lo Oiint 
 
 '" ill ooliiiir 
 
 "' ' . ,\>. 6(1. 
 
 ] / run-fii (u Ann at mpprr-Umti lloawalt, in a nolo on 
 
 Flam. You need not liave carved him, in faith: 
 tliey say he is a capon already. I must now 
 ti emingly fall out with you. Shall a gentleman 
 •■ z ytM dencended as Camillo, — a lousy slave, that 
 within this twenty years rode with the black 
 guard * in the duke's carriage, 'mougst spits and 
 dripping-i)ans, — 
 
 Cam. Now he begins to tickle her. 
 
 Flam. An excellent scholar, — one that hath a 
 head filled with calves-brains without any sage in 
 them, — come crouching in the hams to you for a 
 night's lodging? — that hath an itch in's hams, 
 which like the fire at the glass-house hath not 
 gone out this seven years. — Is he not a courtly 
 gentleman? — when he wears white satin, one 
 would take him by his black muzzle to be no 
 other creature than a maggot. — You are a goodly 
 foil, I confess, well set out — but covered with a 
 false stone, yon counterfeit diamond. t 
 
 Cam. He will make her know what is in me. 
 
 Flam. Come, my lord attends you ; thou shalt 
 go to bed to my lord — 
 
 Cam. Now he comes to't. 
 
 Flam, With a relish as curious as a vintner 
 going to taste new wine. — I am opening your case 
 hard. [To Cauillo. 
 
 Cam^ A virtuous brother, o' my credit ! 
 
 Flam. He will give thee a ring with a philoso- 
 pher's stone in it ^ ^ 
 ^Cam. Indeed, I am studying Jalchy my. j^ 
 
 Flam. Thou shalt lie in a bed stuffed with 
 turtles' feathers; swoon in perfumed linen, like 
 the fellow was smothered in roses. So perfect 
 shall be thy happiness, that, as men at sea think 
 
 Shako8[M3aro's A/erry WiiHsqf Windior, Act I. sc. 8 (where, 
 I am coufidout, tho word "earvrs" ia not used in its 
 conimou acceptation), quotes tho present paamge of 
 \Vol>8tcr, and observes, "it soems to have boon con- 
 Nidorod as n ninrk of kindness, when a hidy ctn'od to a 
 K'oMtleniuu." lu The Jt(turH< from PerHa*rus, liKKi, Sir 
 Ktidcriok nays; "what do men marry Tor, but to stooke 
 their e^>und, nnd to liuve one to looko to tito linnon, sit at 
 tho up]>crond of tlie table, nri><rariv h/> a rapoii .' " Sig. F.i 
 
 * thf bluet ffxiarj] i. o. the nieaneat drudges in royal 
 reMliieuceB atid ipT:tt houses, who rode iu Iho vohiclos 
 which carried Iho f)irnll\iro and domestic utensils trom 
 mansion tu mansion. 8ee Uifford's uot«, Bnt Jotuon't 
 nurt; vol. 11. p. ICO. 
 
 I but fovfnit iriM a /alt Hon*, .irOH eounlrrMt tli'imoml] 
 Ha lonio copies of the •Ito. of l'": ■ ■ .|.iim "but 
 
 roirr with a I'siUo stone vmir oou .ud :" tho 
 
 4tt>, of lO'il, "biit covered with n ! . » couutcr- 
 
 fult diamond:" tho 4to. of IdO/ihiuitho rooduig of some of 
 tho copies of thatof KU'i. followtHlln my text: tho ito.ot 
 107.' ngrocs with that of Hill.— Tho full mcanlni; ap|ii>ani 
 to bo; "but (you, the ifiMHlly foil, aiv) covtro.| with R 
 fltlso stone, [I. o. your huslKuid Camillo, | yon couiitorfolt 
 diamond." 
 
THE AVHITE DEVIL ; OR, VITTORIA COROMBOl^A. 
 
 land and trees and ships go that way they go, so 
 both heaven and earth shall seem to go your 
 voyage. Shall't meet him ; 'tis fixed with nails 
 of diamonds to inevitable necessity. 
 
 Vit. Cm: How shall's rid him hence ] 
 
 Flam. I will put [the] breese in's tail, — set him 
 gadding presently. — [To Camillo] I have almost 
 wrought her to it, I find her coming : but, might 
 I advise you now, for this night I would not lie 
 with her; T wnnid cross her hupio ur to make 
 her more humble. "^^ " 
 
 Cam. ShaU I, shaU I ? 
 
 Flam. It will show in you a supremacy of 
 judgment. 
 
 Cam. True, and a mind differing from the 
 tumultuary opinion ; for, quce negata, grata. 
 
 Flam. Right : you are the adamant * shall 
 draw her to you, though you keep distance 
 ofil 
 
 Cam,. A philosophical reason. 
 
 Flam. Walk by her o'the nobleman's fashion, 
 and tell her you will He with her at the end of 
 the progress.t 
 
 Cam. [coming forward]. Vittoria, I cannot be 
 induced, or, as a man would say, incited — 
 
 Vit. Cor. To do what, sir?- 
 
 Cam. To lie with you to-night. Tour silk- worm 
 useth to fast every third day, and the next 
 following spins the better. To-morrow at night 
 I am for you. 
 
 Vit. Cw. You'll spin a fair thread, trust 
 to't. 
 
 Flam. But, do you hear, I shall have you steal 
 to her chamber about midnight. 
 
 Cam. Do you think sol why, look you, brother, 
 because you shall not think I'll gull you, take the 
 i 2 key, lock me into the chamber, and say you shall 
 be sure of me. 
 
 Flam. In troth, I will ; I'll be your gaoler 
 once. But have you ne'er a false door ] 
 
 Cam. A pox on't, as I am a Christian. Tell me 
 to-morrow how scui-vily she takes my imkind 
 parting. 
 
 Flam. I will. 
 
 Cam. Didst thou not mark J the jest of the 
 silk-worm ? Good-night : in faith, I will iise this 
 trick often. 
 
 Flam. Do, do, do. [Exit Caitlllg; and Fla- 
 MIXEO locks the door on Idm.'] So now you are 
 safe. — Ha, ha, ha ! thou entanglest thyself in 
 
 * adamantl L e. magnet. 
 
 t the progrest] i. e. the travelling of the sovereign and 
 court to different parts of the kingdom. 
 } TMurk] So the Ito. of 167'2. — Theearlier4tos. "make." 
 
 thine own work like a silk-worm.* — Come, sister; 
 darkness hides your blush. "W omen are hke 
 c\irst dogs: civility + keeps them tied all day- 
 time, but they are let loose at midnight; then 
 they do most good, or most naischief. — My lord, 
 my lord ! 
 
 Re-enter BRACHtAJio. Zajjche brings out a carpet, spreadg 
 it, and lays on it two fair cushions. 
 
 Brach. Give credit, I could wish time would 
 stand still. 
 And never end this interview, this hour : 
 But all delight doth itself soon'st devour. 
 
 Enter Cornelia behind, listening. 
 
 7- 
 
 Let me into your bosom, happy lady, 
 Pour out,'instead of eloquence, my vows : 
 Loose me not, madam ; for, if you forgo me, 
 I am lost eternally. 
 
 Vit. Cor. Sir, in the way of pity, 
 I wish you heart-whole. 
 
 Brack. You are a sweet physician. 
 
 Vit. Cor. Sure, su', a loathed cruelty in ladies 
 Is as to doctors many funerals ; 
 It takes away their credit. 
 
 Brach. Excellent creature ! 
 We call the cruel fair : what name for you 
 That are so merciful ?- 
 
 Zan. See, now they close. 
 
 Flam. Most happy union. 
 
 Cor. My fears are fall'n upon me : 0, my heart ! <;^ 
 i[y son the pander ! now I find our house 
 Sinking to ruin. Earthquakes leave behind. 
 Where they have tyranniz'd, iron, lead.J or stone; 
 But, woe to ruin, violent lust leaves none ! 
 
 Brach. What value is this jewel 1 
 
 Vit. Cor. 'Tis the ornament 
 Of a weak fortune. 
 
 Brach. I n sooth, I'U have it-;_B ay, I will bu t 
 change . 
 
 Myjewel for your j ewel . ^7 C^u^^XeAt^^ (j^^^j,-.-.- 
 
 Flam. Excellenl! J/^c-C^ Sf- -c _ 
 
 His jewel for her jewel : — well put in, duke. 
 
 Brach. Kay, let me see you wear it. 
 
 Vit. Cor. Here, sir? 
 
 Brach. Xay, lower, you shall wear my jewel 
 lower. 
 
 Flam. That's better ; she must wear his jewel 
 lower. 
 
 * thou, entanglest thyself in thine own work like a silk- 
 worm] "Thus Pope; 
 
 ' The sUk-worm thus spins fine his little store. 
 And labotors till he clouds himself all o'er.' " -Steevens. 
 
 t civility] The 4to. of 1631, "cruelty." 
 
 X lead] The4to. of 1612, "or lead." 
 
10 
 
 THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 
 VU. Cor. To pAas away the time, I'll t«ll your 
 grace 
 A dream I bad last uight. 
 £ra<Ji. Most wUhedly. 
 VU. Cor. A fooliub idle dream. 
 Methought 1 walk'd about tbe mid of uigbt 
 Into a cburcb-viird, wbere a goodly yew-tree 
 Spread ber largo root in ground. Under tbat yew, 
 As I sate sadly leaning on a gnivo 
 Cbequer'd with cross Kticks, tbere came stealing 
 
 in 
 Tour ducbess and my husband : one of them 
 A pick -axe bore, tbe other a rusty Bi)ade ; 
 And in rough terms they gan to challenge me 
 About tliis yew. 
 BracJi. That tree ? 
 VU. Cor. This harmless yow : 
 bey told me my intent was to root up 
 bat well-grown yew, and plant i'the stead of it 
 A wither'd black-thorn ; and for tbat they vow'd 
 i " bury me alive. My husband straight 
 With pickaxe gan to dig, and your fell ducbess 
 \Vith shovel, like a Fury, voided out 
 'I'lie tfu-th, and scatter'd bones. Lord, bow, 
 
 methought, 
 fi trembled ! and yet, for all this terror, 
 llcould not pray. ^ 
 
 Flam. No; tbe devil was in your dream. 
 VU. Cor. When to my rescue there aiose, me- 
 thought, 
 A whirlwind, which let fall a luassy arm 
 From that strong plant ; 
 
 And both were struck dead by that sacred yew. 
 In that base shallow gi'avo that was their due. 
 '' Flam, Excellent devil ! she hath taught him in 
 
 a dream 
 To make away his duchess and her husband. 
 Jlracli. Sweetly sball I interpret this your 
 diuum. 
 Tou are lodg'd within his arms who shall protect 
 
 you 
 From all the fevers of a jealous husband ; 
 From the pour envy of our phlegmatic duchess. 
 I'll seat you above law, and above scandal ; 
 Give to yuur thought* the invention of delight, 
 And tbo fniitiun ; nor sbull government 
 Divide me from you lunger tlinn a care 
 To keep you great: you hliull to ino at once 
 D« dukedom, hoalth, wife, children, frionda, and 
 all. 
 C^tr. [mminfj /•inear<l\. Woe to light hoarta, 
 
 tiioy Htm forcnin our full ! 
 Flam. Wbitt Fury rnU'd thoo «ip ?- Away, 
 away ! | KxU Zamobb. 
 
 Cor. What make you here, my lord, this dead 
 of night t 
 Never dropp'd mildew on a flower here 
 Till now. 
 
 Flam. I pray, will you go to bed, then, 
 Lest you be blasted ? 
 
 Cor. 0, that this fair garden 
 Had with * all poisond herbs of Thessaly 
 At first been planted ; made a nursery 
 For witchcraft, rather than t a burial plot 
 For both your honours ! 
 
 VU. Cor. Dearest mother, bear me. 
 
 Cor. 0, thou dost moke my brow bend to the 
 earth, 
 Sooner than nature ! Sec, the curse of children ! 
 In life they keep us fre<iuently in tears; 
 And in the cold grave leave us in pale fears. 
 
 Brack. Come, come, I will not hear you. 
 
 VU. Cor. Dear, my lord, — 
 
 Cor. Where is thy ducbes-s now, adulterous 
 duke? 
 Thou little dreamd'st this night she is come to 
 Kome. 
 
 Flam. How ! come to Rome ! 
 
 VU. Cor. The duchess ! 
 
 Brack. She had been better — 
 
 Cor. The lives of princes should like dials move, 
 Whose regular^example is so strong, 
 Theymake t^e Jimesby them go right or wrong. 
 
 Flam. So ; have you done ? 
 
 Cor. Unfortunate Camillo ! 
 
 ViL Cor. 1 do protest, if any chaste denial. 
 If any thing but blood could have allay'd 
 His long suit to me — 
 
 Cor. I will join with thee, 
 To the most woeful end e'er mother kncel'd : 
 If thou dishonour thus thy husband's bed, 
 Bo thy life short as oi'e the funcnil tears 
 In great men's — 
 
 Brack. Fie, fio, tbe woman's mad. 
 
 Cor. Bo thy act, Judos-like, — betray in ki.ssing : 
 Mayst thou be envied during bis short breath, 
 And ]>iticd like a wretch after his death ! 
 
 VU. Cor. me accui-s'd ! [KrU. 
 
 Flam. Are you out of your wits, my lord ? 
 I'll fetch her back again. 
 
 Jirach. No. I'll to bod : 
 Send Doctor .lulio to jne presently.- 
 L'ncharilubU" woman ! thy niah tongue 
 Math rikih'd a fearful and prodigious storm : 
 
 Bo tlliHl till' l■:UI^^' nf all fllMrm;^' llUllli. I /'.ril. 
 
 * K-u/, I Oimur 1 in m.tn tiir i :inir»t 4ti», 
 
 t Miin] OmltUxl In both tha oarUoat 4to«. 
 
THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, YITTOPJA COROMBONA. 
 
 
 
 Flam. Now, you that stand so much upon your 
 
 honour, 
 Is this a fitting time o' night, think you, 
 To send a duke home without e'er a man ] 
 I would fain know where lies the mass of wealth 
 Which you have hoarded for my maintenance, 
 That I may bear my beard out of the level 
 Of my lord's stirrup. 
 
 Cor. What ! because we are poor 
 Shall we be vicious ? 
 
 Flam. Pray, what means have you 
 To keep me from the galleys or the gallows 1 
 My father prov'd himself a gentleman, 
 Sold all's land, and, hke a fortunate fellow, 
 Died ere the money was spent. You brought 
 
 me up 
 At Padua, I confess, where, I protest. 
 For want of means (the university judge me) 
 I have been fain to heel my tutor's stockings, 
 At least seven years : conspiring with a beard. 
 Made me a graduate ; then to this duke's service. 
 I visited the court, whence I retum'd 
 More courteous, more lecherous by far. 
 But not a suit the richer : and shall I, 
 Having a path so open and so free 
 To my preferment, still retain your milk 
 In my pale forehead ? no, this face of mine 
 I'll arm, and fortify with lusty wine, 
 'Gainst shame and blushing. 
 
 Cor. 0, that I ne'er had borne thee ! 
 
 Flam. So would I ; 
 I would the common'st courtezan in Rome 
 Had been my mother, rather than thyself. 
 Nature is very pitiful to whores, 
 To give them but few children, yet those children 
 Plurality of fathers : they are sure 
 They shall not want. Go, go. 
 Complain unto my great lord cardinal ; 
 Yet * may be he wUl j ustify the act. 
 Lycurgus wonder'd much men would provide 
 Good stallions for their mai-es, and yet would 
 
 suffer 
 Their fair wives to be barren. 
 
 Cor. Misery of miseries ! [Kcit. 
 
 Flam. The duchess come to court ! I like not 
 that. 
 We are engag'd to mischief, and must on : 
 As rivers to find out the ocean 
 Flow with crook bendings beneath forced banks ; 
 Or as we see, to aspire some mountain's top. 
 The way ascends not straight, but imitates 
 The subtle foldings of a winter's f snake : 
 
 » Yet] The 4to. of 1631 " it." 
 
 t winter'!} The 4to. of 1631 "winUr." 
 
 So who knows policy and her true aspect, 
 
 Shall find her ways winding and indh-ect. [Exil. 
 
 Eiiter Francisco de Medicis,* Cardinal Monticelso, 
 Marcello, Isabella, young Giovansi, with little 
 Jaques the Moor. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Have you not seen your husband 
 
 since you arriv'd ] 
 Isab. Not yet, sir. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Surely he is wondrous + kind : 
 If I had such a dove-house as Camillo's, 
 I would set fire on't, were't but to destroy 
 The pole-cats that hauut to it. — My sweet cousin ! 
 Giov. Lord uncle, you did promise me a horse 
 And armour. 
 
 Fran, de Med. That I did, my pretty cousin.— 
 Marcello, see it fitted. 
 
 Mar. My lord, the duke is here. 
 Fran, de Med. Sister, av.'ay ! you must not yet 
 I be seen. 
 
 Isab. I do beseech you, 
 I Entreat him mildly ; let not your rough tongue 
 j Set us at louder variance : all my wrongs 
 Ai"e freely pardon'd; and I do not doubt. 
 As men, to try the precious unicorn's horn,J 
 i Make of the powder a preservative circle. 
 And in it put a spider, so these arms 
 Shall charm his poison, force it to obeying, 
 And keep him chaste from an infected straying. 
 Fran, de Med. I wish it may. Be gone, void 
 the chamber. 
 
 [Exeunt Isabella, Giovakni, a'nd Jaques. 
 
 Enter Brachiano and Flamineo. 
 You are welcome : will you sit ? — I pray, my lord, 
 Be you my orator, my heart's too full ; 
 I'll second you anon. 
 
 Mont. Ere I begin, 
 Let me entreat your grace forgo all passion. 
 Which may be raised by my free discourse. 
 
 Brack. As silent as i'the church : you may 
 proceed. 
 
 Mont. It is a wonder to your noble friends. 
 That you, having,§ as 'twere, enter'd the world 
 With a free sceptre in your able hand, 
 
 * Enter Francisco de Medicis, &c.] Scene. — The same. 
 A room in Francisco's palace, 
 t wondrous] The 4to. of 1631 "wonderful." 
 X unicorn's horn\ " The substance vended as such used 
 to be esteemed a counter-poison. 'Andrea Bacci, a 
 physician of Florence, affirms the pound of 16 ounces to 
 have been sold in the apothecaries' shops for 1536 crowns, 
 when the same weight of gold was only worth 148 
 ; crowns. ' Chambers's Diet. See also Sir Thomas Brown's 
 i Vulgar Errors. B. 3. C. 23." Reed. 
 ! § having] So all the 4tos. except that of 1612, which has 
 "have." 
 
10 
 
 THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 And to the use of nature * well applied 
 
 High gifUs of learuiug, should in your prime age 
 
 Neglect your awful throne for the soft down 
 
 Of ou insatiate bed. 0, my lord, 
 
 The drunkard aCter all his lavish cups 
 
 Is dry, and then is sober : so at length, 
 
 When you awake from this lascivious dream, 
 
 Repentance then will follow, like the sting 
 
 Plac'd in theacMer'ii tail. + Wrettlicd are princes 
 
 When fortune blasttth but a petty flower 
 
 Of their unwieldy crowns, or nivisheth 
 
 But one pearl from tlieir sceptres : * but, alas. 
 
 When they to wilful shipwreck lose good fame. 
 
 All princely titles perish with their name ! 
 
 Brack. You have said, my lord. 
 
 Mont. Enough to give you taste 
 How far I am from flattering your greatness. 
 
 Brack. Now you that are his second, what say 
 you? 
 Do not like young hawks fetch a course about : 
 Your game flies fair and for you. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Do not fear it : 
 I'll answer you in your own hawking phrase. 
 Some eagles that should gnze upon the sun 
 Seldom soar high, but take their lustful ease; 
 Since they from dunghill birds their prey can seize. 
 You know Vittoria] 
 
 Brack, Yes. 
 
 Fran, de Med. You shift your shirt there, 
 Wlien you retire from tennis ] 
 
 Brack. Hnppil}'.§ 
 
 Fran, de Med. Her husband \a lord of a poor 
 fortune ; 
 Yet she wears cloth of tissue. 
 
 Brack. What of this ?— 
 Will you urge that, my jood lord cardinal, 
 As part of her confession at next shrift, 
 And know from whence it sails ? 
 
 Fran, de Med. She in your strumpet. 
 
 Brack. Uncivil sir, there's hemlock in thy 
 breath. 
 And that black slander. Wore she a whoro of 
 mine. 
 
 All thv I'MI'l i:ilili()li>.:ili.l tiiV biPiTowM S\\il/.i'r«,l| 
 
 ' iif,"4c. I have uniittcU 
 r than alter it to " hitving. 
 
 And 
 "hart" 
 
 • NVlllch 
 
 < ihm tritt follow, lUu Iht itins; 
 
 t •■•■ ' '» Ml\ " 80 TI».iii»on Myit ; 
 
 ' ^"" • rtfmxtanet rrtirt 
 
 Hf ' HinlllU, I. W>." niCltll, 
 
 t ftiHmi llio 4l<i uf lr,l'.' " tcqilrr." 
 f ll»iipti<i] !■ fro.|iiciii.y, M here, lued for fcop/y by 
 our old wi-ltent. 
 I borruir'i/ AwMarrf] "Tho early dramatUU ajiiMmr to 
 
 Thy galleys, nor thy sworn confederatee, 
 Durst not supplant her. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Let's not talk on thunder. 
 Thou hast a wife, our sister : would I had given 
 Both her white hands to death, bound and lock'd 
 
 fast 
 In her last winding-sheet, when I gave thee 
 But one ! 
 
 Brack. Thou hadst given a soul to God, then. 
 Fran, de Med. True : 
 Thy ghostly father, with all's absolution, 
 Sliall ne'er do so by thee. 
 Brack. Spit thy poison. 
 
 Fran, de Med. I shall not need ; lust carries 
 her sharp whip 
 At her own girdle. Look to't, for our anger 
 Is making thunder-bolta 
 I Brack. Thunder ! in faith, 
 I They arc but crackei*s. 
 
 j Fran, de Med. We'll end this with the cannon. 
 I Brack. Thou'lt get naught by it but iron in 
 I thy wounds, 
 
 And gunpowder in thy nostrils. 
 
 Fran, dc Med. Better that, 
 Than change perfumes for plasters. 
 
 Brack. Pity on thee : 
 'Twere good you'd show your slaves or men con- 
 
 demn'd 
 Your new-plough'd * forehead-defiance ! and I'll 
 
 meet thee. 
 Even in a thicket of thy ablest men. 
 
 Mont. My lortls,t you shall not word it any 
 further 
 Without a milder limit. 
 Fran, de Med. Willingly. 
 
 Brack. Have you proclaim'd a triumph, that 
 you bait 
 A lion thusi 
 Mont. My lord ! 
 
 Brack. I urn tame, I am tame, sir. 
 Fran, dc Med. Wo send unto the duke for con- 
 ference 
 'Bout levies 'gainst the pirates ; my lord duke 
 Is not at home : wo come ourself in person ; 
 Still my lord duke is busied. But wo fear, 
 
 linvo doli|{htcd in making theni*clvc« niorry with tho 
 KwIm um 1. .iiiiiU s \vh(«v )>ovorty, |H<rha|«, ntlu-r tliau 
 thoir t M.itlun, iudiicod thorn to l<>nd their 
 
 nillti'ii t liolr wealthioraud coiitcndinf; nulgh- 
 
 ' ' '. 'thoy l>o- 
 
 world did. 
 ■'. I lit, 16S2.)" 
 
 U. (.ilK-IIRUT. 
 
 • fttoHffh'J] Spolt in all tho 4toa. ' pluu\C Qy. 
 "l>tum'd f 
 I torrfjjVho 41... oriMl "lord." 
 
THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 13 
 
 When Tiber to each prowling passenger 
 Discovers flocks of wild ducks ; then, my lord, 
 'Bout moulting time I mean, we shall be certain 
 To find you sure enough, and speak with you. 
 Brack. Ha ! ^-^ 
 
 Fran, de Med. A mere tale of a, tub, my wor3s 
 are idle ; 
 But to express the sonnet by natural reason, — 
 When stags gi'ow melancholic, you'll find the 
 season. 
 Mont. No more, my lord : here comes a 
 champion 
 Shall end the difierence between you both, — 
 
 Re-enter Gio^'annt. 
 Your son, the prince Giovanni. See, my lords. 
 What hopes you stoi'e in him : this is a casket 
 For both your crowns, and should be held like 
 
 dear. 
 Now is he apt for knowledge ; therefore know. 
 It is a more direct and even way 
 To train to virtue those of princely blood 
 By examples than by precepts : if by examples, 
 Whom should he rather strive to imitate 
 Than his own father ? be his pattern, then ; 
 Leave him a stock of virtue that may last, 
 Should fortune rend his sails and split his mast. 
 Brack. Your hand, boy : growing to a* soldier? 
 Oiov. Give me a pike. 
 Fran, de Med. What, practising your pike so 
 
 young, fair cuz ? 
 Giov. Suppose me one of Homer's frogs, my 
 lord, 
 Tossing my bull-rush thus. Pray, sir, tell me. 
 Might not a child o"f good discretion 
 Be leader to an army 1 
 
 Fran, de Med. Yes, cousin, a young prince 
 Of good discretion might. 
 
 Giov. Say you so ? 
 Indeed, I have heard, 'tis fit a general 
 Should not endanger his own person oft ; 
 So that he make a noise when he's o' horse- 
 back. 
 Like a Dansk t drummer, — 0, 'tis excellent ! — 
 He need not fight :— methinks his horse as well 
 Might lead an army for him. If I live, 
 I'll charge the French foe in the very front 
 Of all my troops, the foremost man. 
 Fi-an. de Med. What, what ! 
 Giov. And will not bid my soldiers up and 
 follow. 
 But bid them follow me. 
 
 * a] Omitted h\ the 4to. of 1612. 
 t Dansk'\ i. e. Danish. 
 
 Brack. Forward lap-wing ! * 
 He flies with the shell ou's head. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Pretty cousin ! 
 
 Giov. The first year, uncle, that I go to war. 
 All prisoners that I take I will set free 
 Without their ransom. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Ha, without their ransom ! 
 How, then, will you reward your soldiers 
 That took those prisoners for you ? 
 
 Giov. Thus, my lord ; 
 I'll marry them to all the wealthy widows 
 That fall that year. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Why, then, the next year 
 following, 
 You'll have no men to go with you to war. 
 
 Giov. Why, then, I'll press the women to the war, 
 And then the men will follow. 
 
 Mont. Witty prince ! 
 
 Fran, de Med. See, a good habit makes a child 
 a man, 
 Whereas a bad one makes a man a beast. 
 Come, you and I are friends. 
 
 Brack. Most wishedly ; Ci/ia/Vv-t iM-C^n 
 
 Like bones which, broke in sunder, and we ll set, 
 Knit the more strongly. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Call Camillo hither. 
 
 {^Exit Marcello. 
 You have receiv'd the rumour, how Count Lodo- 
 
 wick 
 Is turn'd a pirate ? 
 
 Brack. Yes. 
 
 Fran, de Med. We are now preparing 
 Some ships to fetch him in. Behold your 
 
 duchess. 
 We now will leave you, and expect from you 
 Nothing but kind entreaty. 
 
 Brack. You have charm'd me. 
 
 [ExevMt Francisco de Medicis, Monticelso, 
 and Giovanni. Flamineo retires. 
 
 Re-enter Isabella. ( Tt', Oa- 
 You are in health, we see. 
 
 Isab, And above health. 
 To see my lord well. 
 
 Brack. So. I wonder much 
 What amorous whu-lwind hurried you to Rome. 
 
 Isab. Devotion, my lord. 
 
 Brack. Devotion ! 
 Is your soul charg'd with any grievous sin 1 
 
 Isab. 'Tis burden'd with too many; and I think. 
 
 * Forward lap^wing ! 
 
 He flies with the shell on's head] "So Horatio saya in 
 Ilamlet, A. 5. S. 2. ' This lap-wing runs away with the 
 shell on his head.' See Mr. Steevens's note thereon." 
 
 Reed. 
 
 r 
 
14 
 
 THE WHITE DEVIL; OB, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 V 
 
 The oftener that we cast our reckonings up, 
 Our sleeps will be the souuder. 
 
 Brack. Take your chamber. 
 
 Itah. Nay, my dear lord, I will not have you 
 angry : 
 Doth not my absence from you, now * two months, 
 Merit one kiss ? 
 
 Bi-ach. I do not use to kisH : 
 If tliat will dispossess your jealousy, 
 I'll swear it to you. 
 
 Itab. my loved lord, 
 I do not come to chide : my jealousy I 
 I am t to learn what that Italian means. 
 You are as welcome to these longing arms 
 As I to you a virgin. 
 
 Brack. 0, your breath ! 
 Out upon sweet-meats ai^fi continu'd phj^ic, — 
 The plague is in them ! 
 
 Isab. You bftTti oft, for these two lips, 
 Neglected cassia or the natural sweets 
 Of the spring-violet : they are not yet much 
 
 wither'd. 
 My lord, I should be merrj' : these your frowns 
 Show in a helmet lovely ; but on me, 
 In such a peaceful interview, methinks 
 They are too-too roughly knit. 
 
 Brack. 0, dissemblance ! 
 Do you bandy factions 'gainst me ? have you learnt 
 The trick of impudent baseness, to complain 
 Unto your kiudred ? 
 
 Jsab. Never, my dear lord. 
 
 Brack. Must I be hunted X out? or was't your 
 trick 
 To meet some amorous gallant hero in Rome, 
 That must supply our discontinuance] 
 
 hub. I pray, sir, bur8t§ my heart; and in ray 
 deiith 
 Turn to your ancient pity, though not love. 
 
 Brack. Because your brother is the corpulent 
 duke, 
 That in, the great duko, 'sdeath, I shall not shortly 
 Racket away five hundred crowns at tennis, 
 But it mIiuII rt'Ht upon record ! I Hcom him 
 Like a hhavVl I'olack : || all his reverend wit 
 Lies in his wardrobe ; he's a discreet fellow 
 
 * mow] Omitted In the two oiu-Ueat 4t<>v 
 am] The 4to. of 1012 "fOfn*." 
 hunttd] Tile three earlieat 4t(M. "hauntnl." 
 
 I (>yr<(J I. «. brontc. 
 
 II lAnrV I'uhicl] •1.0 l',,l,m.lor. St»e the Nut«« of 
 Mr. I'».|K<, Dr. .I..liii»..i,, Mr .MtrrvniH, mi ll.tmUt, A. 1. 
 B. 1. Ill Mr.ryiK.irii iLnmiry, 1(117, [it .1. |i. ITO. It U 
 «Ud. 'The Poluiilmia «AaM all Ihoir hun<tM clone, except' 
 intr the liaire of tho forahciul, whlili thoy iioiirUh very 
 lohit, anil riwt liorko to the hltiilor |MU-t of tho hood.' " 
 
 Hun. 
 
 When be is made up in his robes of state. 
 
 Your brother, the great duke, because h'as 
 
 galleys, 
 And now and then ransacks a Turkish fly-boat, 
 (Now all tho hellish Furies take his soul !) 
 First made this match : accursid be the priest 
 That sang the wedding-mass, and even my 
 issue ! 
 
 Itah. 0, too-too far you have curs'd ! 
 
 Brack. Your hand I'll kiss ; 
 This is the latest ceremony of my love. 
 Henceforth I'll never lie with thee ; by this, 
 This wedding-ring, I'll ne'er more lie with thee : 
 And this divorce shall be as truly kept 
 As if the judge had doom'd it. Fare you well : 
 Our sleeps arc_Eey£r'd 
 
 Isab. Forbid it, the sweet union 
 Of all things blessed ! why, the saints in heaven 
 Will knit their brows at that. 
 
 Brack. Let not thy love 
 
 Make thee an unbeliever ; this my vow , - 
 
 Shall never, on my soul, be satisfied 
 
 With my repentance ; let thy brother rage 
 
 Beyond a horrid tempest or sea-fight. 
 
 My vow is fixed. ^, . ' ^ 
 
 (Or' ^ 
 Isab. my winding-sheet ! *^ ♦^ ^ 
 
 Now shall I need thee shortly. — Dear my lord, 
 
 Let me hear once more what I would not hear : 
 
 Nevor.1 
 
 Brack. Never. 
 
 Isab. my unkiud lord ! may your sins find 
 mercy, 
 As I upon a woful widow'd bed 
 Shall pray for you, if not to turn your eyes 
 Upon your wretched wife and hopeful son, 
 Yet that in time you'll fix them upon heaven ! 
 
 Brack. No more : go, go complain to the great 
 duke. 
 
 hab. No, my deal' lord ; you shall have present 
 witnc.ss 
 How I'll work peace between you. I will make 
 Myself the author of your cuifM vow ; 
 1 have some cau^o to do it, you have none. 
 Conceal it, I beseech you, for the weal 
 Of both your dukedoms, that you wrought the 
 
 means 
 Of such u separation : let tho fault 
 Remain with my supposed jealousy; 
 And think wilii what a piteous and rent heart 
 I shall perform this huI ensuing part. 
 
 Rf tntcr KiuNCIBVO PB tlKniClH and MoNTICKUta 
 Bincfi. WpU, take your course. My hoiutur- 
 able brother t 
 
THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROAIBONA. 
 
 15 
 
 Fran, de Med, Sister ! — This is not well, my 
 lord. — Why, sister ! — 
 She merits not this welcome. 
 
 Brack. Welcome, say ! 
 She hath given a sharp welcome. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Are you foolish ] 
 Come, dry your tears : is this a modest course. 
 To better what is naught, to rail and weep ? 
 Grow to a reconcilement, or, by heaven, 
 I'll ne'er more deal between you. 
 
 Isab. Sir, you shall not ; 
 No, though Vittoria, upon that condition, 
 Would become honest. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Was your husband loud 
 Since we departed? 
 
 Isah. By my life, sir, no ; 
 I swear by that I do not care to lose. 
 Are all these ruins of my former beauty 
 Laid out for a whore's triumjA ? 
 
 Fran, de Med. Do you hear ? 
 Look upon other women, with what patience 
 
 let 
 
 They sufi'er these slight wrongs, with what justice 
 They study to requite them : take that course, 
 
 Isab. 0, that I were a man, or that I had pow 
 To execute my apprehended wishes ! /' 
 
 I would whip some with scorpions. y 
 
 Fran, de Med. What ! tum'd Fury ! 
 
 Isab. To dig the strumpet's eyes out 
 her lie 
 Some twenty months a dying ; to cut off 
 Her nose and lips, pull out her rotten teeth ; 
 Preserve her flesh like mummia, for trophies 
 Of my just anger ! Hell to my affliction 
 Is mere snow-water. By your favour, sir ; — 
 Brother, draw near, and my lord cardinal ; — 
 Sir, let me borrow of you but one kiss : 
 Henceforth I'll never lie with you, by this. 
 This wedding-ring. 
 
 Fran, de Med. How, ne'er more lie with him ! 
 
 Isab. And this divorce shall be as truly kept 
 As if in thronged court a thousand ears 
 Had heard it, and a thousand lawyers' hands 
 Seal'd to the separation. 
 
 Brack. Ne'er lie with me ! 
 
 Isab. Let not my former dotage 
 Make thee an unbeliever : this my vow 
 Shall never, on my soul, be satisfied 
 With my repentance ; manet dlta mente repostum."' 
 
 Fran, de Med. Now, by my birth, you are a 
 foolish, mad, 
 And jealous woman. 
 
 Braxk, You see 'tis not my seeking. 
 
 * manet alta, &c.] Virgil, ^n. i. 26. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Was this your circle of pure 
 
 unicorn's horn 
 You said should charm your lord? now, horns 
 
 upon thee, 
 For jealousy deserves them ! Keep your vow 
 And take your chamber. 
 
 Isab. No, sir, I'll presently to Padua ; 
 I will not stay a minute. 
 Mont. good madam ! 
 
 Brack. 'Twere best to let her have her humour : 
 Some half day's journey will bring down her 
 
 stomach, 
 And then she'll turn in post. 
 
 F7'an. de Med. To see her come 
 To my lord cardinal for a dispensation 
 Of her rash vow, will beget excellent laughter. 
 Isab. Unkindness, do thy office; poor heart, 
 break : 
 Those are the killing griefs which dare not speak.* 
 
 [SxU. 
 Y 
 
 - r r)(t-^/'~'^ He-enfer Marcello -laith Camillo. 
 Mar. Camillo's come, my lord. 
 Fran, de Med. Where's the commission ? 
 Mar. 'Tis here. 
 Fran, de Med. Give me the signet. 
 
 [Francisco de Mediois, Monticelso, Camillo, 
 and Maecello, retire to the back of the stage. 
 
 Flam. My lord, do you mark their whispering? 
 I will compound a medicine, out of their two 
 heads, stronger than garlic, deadlier than stibium :+ 
 the cantharides, which are scarce seen to stick 
 upon the flesh when they work to the heart, 
 shall not do it with more silence or invisible 
 cunning. 
 
 Brack. About the mm-der ? 
 I Flam. They are sending him to Naples, but I'll 
 send him to Candy. 
 
 Snter Doctor. 
 Hei-e's another property too. 
 
 Brack. 0, the doctor ! 
 
 Flam. A poor quack-salviag knave, my lord ; 
 one that should have been lashed for's lechery, 
 but that he confessed a judgment, had an execu- 
 tion laid upon him, and so put the whip to a 
 non plus. 
 
 Doc. And was cozened, my lord, by an 
 
 * Tliose are the hilling griefs which dare not speak} " So 
 in Macbeth, A. i. S. 3. 
 
 ' Give sorrow words : the grief that does not speak. 
 Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break.' 
 Curce leves loqav.rdur, ingentes stupent. [Seneca, Hippol. 
 607.]" Steevens. 
 
 t stibhtm] " An ancient name for antimony, now sel- 
 dom used." Reed. 
 
16 
 
 THE \VHrTE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA- 
 
 ^ 
 
 arranter knave than myself, and made pay all 
 
 the colourable execution. 
 
 Flam. He will shoot pills into a man's guts 
 shall moke them have more ventages than a cornet 
 or a lamprey ; ho will poison a kiss ; and was 
 once minded, for his master-piece, because Ireland 
 breeds no poison,* to have prepared a deadly 
 vapour in a Spaniard's fai-t, that should have 
 poisoned all Dublin. 
 
 Brach. 0, Saint Anthony's fire. 
 
 Doc. Your secretary is merry, my lord. 
 
 Flam. thou cursed antipathy to nature ! 
 — Look, his eye's bloodshed, like a needle a 
 chirurgeon stitcheth a wouud with. — Let me 
 embrace thee, toad, and love thee, Q__thoil 
 abominable loathsomef gsirgarism, that will fetck 
 ly)^ lungs, lights, heart, and liver, by scrupleai 
 
 Brach. No more. — I must employ thee, honest 
 doctor : 
 You must to Padua, and by the way. 
 Use some of your skill for us. 
 
 Doc. Sir, I shall.i 
 
 Brack. But, for Camillo ? 
 
 Flam. He dies this night, by such a politic 
 strain. 
 Men shall suppose him by's own engine slain. 
 But, for your duchess' death — 
 
 Doc. I'll make her sure. 
 
 Brach. Small mischiefs are by greater made 
 secure. 
 
 Flam. Remember this, you slave; when knaves 
 
 come to preferment, they rise as gallowses are 
 
 raised ithe Low Countries, one upon another's 
 
 shouldei-s. 
 
 [Extunt Drachiano, Flamiseo, and Doctor. 
 
 Mont. Here is an emblem, nephew, pray peruse 
 it: 
 'Twas thrown in at your window. 
 
 Cam. At my window ! 
 Here is a stag, my lord, hath shed his horns, 
 And, for the loss of tiiera, the poor beast weeps : 
 The word,§ Inopan mc rojila fecil.W 
 
 Mont. That is, 
 Plenty of horns hath made him poor <>r Im.ih.^ 
 
 Cam. What should this mean ] 
 
 * frreavM Inland bretdt no poU<m'\ Varioua uUI writon 
 loll UK l)i:>t 111! \Liiutii..iiN croaturoa wereoxtorinliiiitod tii 
 Irel- I St. Tfttrlck. 
 
 t , U-* (if tho 4to. of 1019 " lilhan." 
 
 t IhH .^i>, / /'.'ii I KiiiltU'd In HOino oo|ilo«or the 4tu. 
 of 1011 
 
 I ThtytOTd\\ 0. the luollo. So MliUllolon ; "Thode- 
 vloo, ■ puHM wlJo o|«oi». auil tho iiiu\i(h downward: 
 Ikt wont, Atimi§ tttt crummis," Your /'ii* (/atlaHt; — 
 H'orit, 11. »18, ed. Dyoe. 
 
 tl /nojirm, Ac] Uvld. Uetain. 111. ifO. 
 
 Mont. Ill tell you : 'tis given out 
 You are a cuckold. 
 
 Cam. Is it* given out so ? 
 I had rather such report as that, my lord, 
 Should keep within doors. ' 
 
 Fran, de Med. Have you any children ? 
 
 Cam. None, my lord. 
 
 Fran, de Med. You are the happier : 
 I'll tell you a tale. 
 
 Cam. Pray, my lord. 
 
 Fran, de Med. An old tale. 
 Upon a time Phcebus, the god of light, 
 Or him we call the Sun, would needsf be married : 
 The gods gave their consent, and Mercury 
 Was sent to voice it to the general world. 
 But what a piteous cry there straight arose 
 Amongst smiths and felt-makers, brewers and 
 
 cooks, 
 Reapers and butter-women, amongst fishmongers. 
 And thousand other trades, which are annoy'd 
 By his excessive heat ! 'twas lamentable. 
 They camet to Jupiter all in a sweat, 
 And do forbid the bans.§ A great fat cook 
 Was made their speaker, who entreats of Jove 
 That Phoebus might be gelded : for, if now. 
 When there was but one sun, so many men 
 Were like to perish by his violent heat, 
 What should they do if he were married, 
 And should beget more, and those children 
 Make fire-work.s like their father \ So say I ; 
 Only I will apply it to youi- wife : 
 Her issue, should not providence prevent it, 
 Would make both nature, time, and man repent 
 it. 
 
 Mont. Look you, cousin, 
 Go, change the air, for shame ; see if your absence 
 Will blast your cornucopia. Marcello 
 Is chosen with you joint commissioner 
 For tho relieving our Italian coast 
 From jiiiates. 
 
 Mar. I am much honour'd int. 
 
 Cam. But, sir, 
 Hre 1 rotiu'n, tho stag's horns may be sprouted 
 Greater than thosoH ju-o shed. 
 
 MuiU. l)o not fear it : 
 I'll be your ranger. 
 
 • It u] The *u>. of iflsi " It it." 
 
 t fiW«J Tho 4to. of 1019 ••mv.t' • 
 
 t mint] So, uo doubt, oiirniiUior winio,— ui>l ••como." 
 8co boforo and iiftoc In IIiIh n|k>(vU. 
 
 I bam] Tho Ho*, hnvo " Imiiua " ; and ui the flrtt 
 o<lltluu ofthU woik i idluwed thataiKilliuiiloatiuid: but' 
 1 now think tliat It ought to be rotuiuud uuly in pa«- 
 Mgra whoro tho rhyino roi|ulroa it. 
 
 U fAo«f| The4ta of Ifll'i, '•tXtff." 
 
THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBOXA. 
 
 17 
 
 Cam. You must watch i'the nights ; 
 Then's the most danger. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Farewell, good Marcello : 
 All the best fortunes of a soldier's wish 
 Bring you a-ship-board ! 
 
 Cam. Were I not best, now I am turn'd soldier, 
 Ere that I leave my wife, sell all she hath. 
 And then take leave of her 1 
 
 Mont. I expect good from you, 
 Your parting is so merry. 
 
 Cam. Meriy, my lord ! o'the captain's humour 
 right ; 
 I am resolved to be dnink this night. 
 
 \_Exiv.nt Camillo and Marcello. 
 
 Fran, de Med. So, 'twas well fitted : now shall 
 we discern 
 How his wish'd absence will give violent way 
 To Duke Bi-achiano's lust. 
 
 Mont. Why, that was it ; 
 To what scorn'd purpose else should we make 
 
 choice 
 Of hlia for a sea-captain ? and, besides. 
 Count Lodowick, which was rumour'd for a pirate, 
 Is now in Padua. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Is't true ? 
 
 Mont. Most certain. 
 I have letters from him, which are suppliant 
 To work his quick repeal from banishment : 
 He means to address himself for pension 
 Unto our sister duchess. 
 
 Fran, de Med. 0, 'twas well : 
 We shall not want his absense past six days. 
 I fain would have the Duke Brachiano run 
 Into notorious scandal ; for thei'e's naught 
 In such cui-s'd dotage to repair his name, 
 Only the deep sense of some deathless shame. 
 
 Mont. It may be objected, I am dishonourable 
 To play thus with my kinsman ; but I answer, 
 For my revenge I'd stake a brother's life. 
 That, being wrong'd, durst not avenge himself. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Come, to observe this stnimpet. 
 
 Mont. Curse of greatness ! 
 Sm'e he'll not leave her ? 
 
 Fran, de Med. There's small pity in't : 
 Like misletoe on sear elms spent by weather, 
 Let him cleave to her, and both rot together. 
 
 {Exeunt. 
 Enter Brachiajto,* with a Conjurer. 
 
 Brack. Now, sir, I claim your promise : 'tis 
 dead midnight, 
 
 * Enter Brachiano, drc] Scene. The Same. A room 
 in the house o Camillo (In p. IS, the Conjurer, after 
 exhibiting in dumb-show the mvu-der of Camillo, .says 
 " We are now 
 Beneath her f Yittoria's] roof. ") 
 
 The time prefix'd to show me, by your art, 
 How the intended murder of Camillo 
 And our loath'd duchess grow to action. 
 
 Con. You have won me by your bounty to a deed 
 I do not often practise. Some there are 
 ^Vhich by sophistic tricks aspire that name, 
 Which I would gladly lose, of necromancer ; 
 As some that use to juggle upon cards. 
 Seeming to conjure, when indeed they cheat ; 
 Others that raise up theu- confederate spirits 
 'Bout wind-mills, and endanger their own necks 
 For making of a squib ; and some there are 
 Will keep a cui-tal * to show juggling tricks, 
 And give out 'tis a spirit ; besides these, 
 Such a whole realm f of almanac-makers, figure- 
 
 fiingers. 
 Fellows, indeed, that only live by stealth. 
 Since they do merely lie about stol'n goods. 
 They'd make men think the devil were fast and 
 
 loose. 
 With speaking fustian Latin. Pray, sit down : 
 Put on this night-cap, sir, 'tis chai-m'd ; and now 
 I'll show you, by my strong commanding art. 
 The circumstance that breaks your duchess' heart. 
 
 A dumb shoic. 
 Enter sxigpiciovMy Julio and Christophero : they draw a 
 curtain where Beachiano's picture is; they put on 
 spectacles of glass,~'aMcfi:'cover their eyes and noses, and 
 then bum perfurMs afore the picture, and innxh thj> Ups 
 of jthe picture J that done, quenching the fire, andputting 
 o ff their sp frlndes, they depart laughing. 
 
 Enter Isabella in her night-gown, as to hed-ward, with 
 liglds after her, Covmt Lodovico, Giovanni, Guid- 
 ASTONio, and others waiting on her: she kneels dov:n as 
 to prayers, then draws the curtain of the picture, does, 
 t hree reveren ces to it, and kisses it t hrice : slie faints, and 
 will not suffer them to corne near it ; dies : sorrow ex- 
 pressed in Giovanni and in Count Lodovico : eli^ is 
 conveyed oxU solemnly. 
 
 Brack. Excellent ! then she's dead. 
 
 Con. She's poisoned 
 By the fum'd picture. 'Twas her custom nightly. 
 Before she went to bed, to go and visit 
 Your picture, and to feed her eyes and lips 
 On the dead shadow. Do,ctQr_Julicv 
 Observing this, infects it with an oil 
 And^ther pbTson'd stuff, which presently 
 Did^suffocate her spirits^ 
 
 * Will keep a curtol, &c.] "This was said of Banks's 
 celebrated horse so often mentioned in ancient writers." 
 
 Reed. 
 
 t rca^nij The 4tos. have "reame," — which was frequently 
 the old spelling of "realm : "even when the latter spelling 
 was given, the I was frequently not sounded : — see the 
 note in my ed. of Marlowe's Works on "Give me a ream 
 of paper: we'll have a kingdom of gold for't." Jew of 
 Malta, act iv. 
 
18 
 
 THE WHITE DEV^L; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 / 
 
 '> 
 
 Brack. Metbought I saw 
 Count Lodowick there. 
 
 Con. He was : aud by luy art 
 I find be did most j)a«uonikt«ly dot« 
 Upon your duchess. Now turn another way, 
 And view Camillo's far more politic fate.* — 
 Strike louder, music, fi-om this charmed 
 
 ground, 
 To yield, as fits the act, a tragic sound ! 
 
 The tecond dumb thow. 
 Bntrr Flamikeo, Marcelu), Camillo, wUh four more, a* 
 Captiiins : thru drink hfaltht, and dance : a ranlling- 
 hortt u bi^nii/ht into tht room: MAROiaLO and tiro 
 in/.re 1 //..■/■ .• ' "»/ (/'' Ih' rctm. while y^ ^MlKEO aiul 
 Ca ■ • • iLcir tldrU, a* to xauU; 
 
 if. un : ax C AHll-LO ii.alioui. 
 
 t,, rLith fciiii Upon hit jucJcr-aiid, 
 
 tf , , irritliO hij> nfclc about ; sce mt ts 
 
 tf : !:ij/t hiiti/oLdaLdoul)le,at'lu:ere^ 
 
 i(, .• mid-(t ifioict to call for help : Mak- 
 
 01 1 , , lamentg : tendt for the CaTdina.\ and 
 
 Duke, icho cumc fortli with armed men ; vonder at the 
 CLct; command (he bo<l If to be carried home; apprehend 
 Flamineo, MAnrELLO, and the rest, and go, a» 'ttctre, 
 to apprehend Vjttobia. 
 Brack. 'Twas quaintly done ; but yet cacb cir- 
 cumstance 
 I taste not fully. 
 
 Con. 0, 'twas most apparent : 
 You saw them enter, charg'd with their deep 
 
 healths 
 To their boon voyage ; and, to second that, 
 Flamiueo calls to have a vaulting-horso 
 Maintiiiu their sport ; tlic_YJrtuous^Iiircello 
 Is inuocently plotted XiU'tk tha-room. ; 
 Whilst your eye aiw thereat, andean inform you 
 TUg^ngine of all. 
 
 Brack. It seems Marcello and Flamineo 
 Are both committed. 
 
 Con. Yes, you saw them guarded ; 
 And now they arc conic with purpose to aj)pre; 
 
 bend. 
 
 Your mistrcMS, fair_.Yitturia. .W«.at-e now 
 licncath hor roof : 'twere fit wo iubtuutly 
 Make out by some back-postern. 
 
 Brack. Noble friend, 
 You bin<l mo ever to you : this shall ntaud 
 An tba firm seal annexed to my band ; 
 It bIibU enforce a payment. 
 
 Con. Kir, I thank you. [lUlt Huaciii.vno. 
 Both flowora and weeds spring when tho sun is 
 
 warm, 
 And great men do groat good or cIho great biinn. 
 \Kx'»i. 
 
 ■ oil] Bo Die 4to of inT2: tlio oaillor iU». h«TO 
 "Oict," wlilcJi, tliouuU obvluiuly n inlaprint, U followed 
 in k11 inodoni txJltloitB. 
 
 ,/ 
 
 BtUtr Framcisoo de llKDias,* and Mosticelso, their 
 Chancellor and Register. 
 
 Fran, de Med. You have dealt discreetly, to 
 obtain the presence 
 Of all the grave lieger ambassadors.t 
 To bear Vittoria's trial. 
 
 Mont. 'Twas not ill ; 
 For, sir, you know we have naught but circum- 
 stances 
 To charge ber with, about ber husband's death : 
 Their approbation, therefore, to the proofs 
 Of ber black lust shall make her infamous 
 To all our neighbouring kingdoms. I wonder 
 If Brachiano will be here. 
 
 Fran, de Med. fie. 
 'Twero impudence too palpable. [Kceunt. 
 
 Enter Flamineo* and Mabcello guarded, and a 
 Lawyer. 
 
 Laxcycr. What, are you in by the week ? § so, I 
 will try now whether thy wit be close prisoner. 
 Metbinks none should sit upon thy sister but 
 old whore-masters. 
 
 Flam. Or cuckolds ; for your cuckold is your 
 most terrible tickler of lechery. Whore-masters 
 would serve ; for none are judges at tilting but 
 those that have been old tilters. 
 
 Lawyer. My lord duke and she have been very 
 private. 
 
 Flam. You are a dull ass ; 'tis threatened they 
 have been verj* public. 
 
 Lawyer. If it can be proved tbcy have but 
 kissed one another — 
 
 Flam. What then ? 
 
 Lawyer. My lord cardinal will ferret tliem. 
 
 Flam. A cardinal, I hope, will not catch conies. 
 
 Lawyer. For to sow kisses (mark what I say), 
 to sow kisses is to reap lechery ; and, I am sure, 
 a woman that will endure kissing is half won. 
 
 Flam. True, ber upper part, by that rule : if 
 you will win her nether piu't too, you know what 
 follows. 
 
 Lateyer. Hark ! tbo ambassadors arts lighted. 
 
 • Siitrr Fniiieiieo de .Vtdici*, *cv | Si-oiio. Tlio 8.-inio. 
 Porlittiw tho court of tho hoaae wlicn- the trial of Vlttoria 
 la to tiiko pliico,— tho iimn«l»n. It would itoaui, of Monti- 
 coImo, for iiftoi wiinK p. lli, lio «.iy«, 
 
 " This liuaiiiCH« by his hulineiu Is loft 
 To our exniuluitlioii : " 
 niid coiiitmro limchliiuo's a|)eoch, p. 23. '' Thou Host, 'twna 
 iii> ■ ■ " ' 
 
 t I'fortj 1.0. rtwhlont nmbiuundor*. 
 
 ! '<ri>, Ac. I rorhn|>s tliin is not nnowRcono. 
 
 I What, art won <M 6jf Ik* ttett Aj "This phnuio np|>anni 
 to alifiitly an onKiu.'cinont for a time llntltvtl. It nocui« 
 In lAift'i lAibour'i Loti, A. !>. H. 3. 8oii notu thoroon." 
 
 ISTKKVr.NS. 
 
THE ^^'HITE DEVIL; OE, VITTORIA COROMBOi^'A- 
 
 19 
 
 Flam. \aside\. I do put on this feigned garb of 
 mirth 
 To gull suspicion. 
 
 Mar. my unfortunate sister ! 
 I would my dagger-point had cleft her heart 
 When she first saw Brachiano : you, 'tis said, 
 Were made his engine and his stalking-horse. 
 To undo my sister. 
 
 Flam. I am a kind of path 
 To her and mine own preferment. 
 
 Mar. Your ruin. 
 
 Flam. Hum ! thou art a soldier, 
 Follow'st the great duke, feed'st his victories. 
 As witches do their serviceable spirits, 
 Even with thy prodigal blood : what hast got. 
 But, like the wealth of captains, a poor handful, 
 Which in thy palm thou bearst as men hold 
 
 water ? 
 Seeking to gripe it fast, the frail reward 
 Steals through thy fingers.* 
 
 Mar. Sir! 
 • Flam. Thou hast scarce maintenance 
 To keep thee in fresh shamois.t 
 
 Mar. Brother ! 
 
 Flam. Hear me : — 
 And thus, when we have even pour'd ourselves 
 Into great fights, for their ambition 
 Or idle spleen, how shall we find reward ] 
 But as we seldom find the misletoe 
 Sacred to physic, or the buUder oak,:}: 
 Without a mandrake by it ; so in our quest of gain, 
 Alas, the poorest of their forc'd dislikes 
 At a limb profi'ers, but at heart it strikes ! 
 This is lamented doctrine. 
 
 Mar. Come, come. 
 
 Flam. When age shall turn thee 
 White as a blooming hawthorn 
 
 Mar. I'll inteiTupt you : — 
 For love of virtue bear an honest heart, 
 And stride o'er every politic respect. 
 Which, where they most advance, they most 
 
 infect. 
 Were I your father, as I am your brother, 
 
 * Which in thy palm thou bear'st as men hold water ? 
 Seekivg to gripe it fast, t?ie frail reward 
 Steals through thy fingers^ " Dryden has borrowed this 
 thought in All for Love ; or. The World icell Lost, A. 5 : 
 ' Oh, that I less could fear to lose this being, 
 TVTaich, like a snoic-baV, in my covro.rd hand 
 Tlie more 'tis grasp'd, the faster melts avay.'" Reed. 
 t shamoix] "i. e. shoes made of the wild goat's sklu. 
 ChaTtiois, Ft." Steevens. 
 
 I the builder oak] " The epithet of ' builder oak ' is 
 originally Chaucer's ; 
 
 ' The bilder oke, and eke the hardy ashe, 
 The piller ehne,' &c. — Assetnblie of Foules." Collier. 
 
 I should not be ambitious to leave you 
 A better patrimony. 
 
 Flam. I'll think ou't. — 
 The lord ambassadors. 
 
 Here there is a passage of the lieger Ambassadors 
 over the sta^e stcerally.* 
 
 Laioyer. my sprightly Frenchman ! — Do you 
 know him 1 he's an admirable tilter. 
 
 Flam. I saw him at last tiltiug : he showed 
 like a pewter candlestick, fashioned + like a man 
 in armour, holding a tilting-staff in his hand, little 
 bigger than a candle of twelve i'the pound. 
 
 Lawya: 0, but he's an excellent horseman. 
 
 Flam. A lame one in his lofty tricks : he sleeps 
 a-horseback, like a poulter.J 
 
 Lawyer. Lo you, my Spaniai'd ! 
 
 Flam. He carries his face in's rufip, as I have 
 seen a serving-man carry glasses in a cipress hat- 
 band, monstrous steady, for fear of breaking : he 
 looks like the claw of a black-bird, fii'st salted, 
 and then broiled in a candle. [Exeunt. 
 
 The Arraignment of Vittoria.§ 
 
 Enter Francisco de Medicis, Monticelsp, the six \\ lieger 
 Ambassadors, Brachiano, Vittoria Coroiibona, 
 FLAiiisEO, Mabcello, Lawyer, o.nd a Guard. 
 
 Mont, Forbear, my lord, here is no place assign'd 
 you: 
 This business by his holiness is left 
 To our examination. 
 
 / Brack. Slay it thrive, with you ! [ 
 
 '■ ' [Lays a rich gov>n underhim. 
 
 Fran, de Med. A chair there for his, lordship ! 
 
 Brack. Forbear your kindness: an unbidden 
 guest 
 Should travel as Dutch women go to church, 
 Bear their stools with them. 
 
 Mont. At your pleasure, sir. — 
 Stand to the table, gentlewoman.^ — Now, signior, 
 Fall to your plea. 
 
 * I have here omitted, as superfluous, some notices, 
 "Enter French Ambassador," <fec. 
 
 t a pewter candlestick, fashioned, &c.] See an engraving 
 of such a candlestick in Malone's Shalxspeare (by BosweU,) 
 vol. xvii. p. 410. 
 
 t poidter] i. e. poulterer. " The Poulters send us in 
 fowle." Tieywood's Xing Edward the Fourth, Part Firtt, 
 Sig. B. ed. 1619. 
 
 § The Arraignment of Vittoria] A new scene. See note", 
 p. IS. 
 
 II six] "Was altered by Reed to "four,-" but from a sub- 
 sequent scene, where Lodovico enumerates their various 
 orders of knighthood, it is evident that there were "six" 
 ambassadors. — It is not a little extraordinary that all the 
 editors should let the name of Isabella (whose death has 
 been shown by the Coujiu-er) remain in this stage-direc- 
 tion. 
 
 •[ gentlewoman] Both the earliest ■Itos. "gentlewomen." 
 
 c 2 
 
20 
 
 THE W^ITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 Lawyer. Domiiu judex, conrerU oculos in hatic 
 pestem, mulienim coiTuptiuimain. 
 
 Vit. Cor. What's bo ? 
 
 Fran, de Med. A lawyer that pleada against 
 you. 
 
 Vit. Cor. Pray, my lord, let liiin speak his 
 usual tongue ; 
 I'll make no answer else. 
 
 Fran, dc Med. Wliy, yon understand Latin. 
 
 VU. Cor. I do, Bir; but amongst this auditory 
 WHiich come to hear my cause, the half or more 
 May bo ignorant in'L 
 
 Moni. Go on, sir. 
 
 VU. Cor. By your favour, 
 I will not have my accusation clouded 
 In a strange tongue : all this assembly 
 Shall hear what you can charge me with. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Signior, 
 You need not stand on't much; pray, change 
 your language. 
 
 Mont. 0, for God sake !— Gentlewoman, your 
 credit 
 Shall be more famous by it. 
 ' Lavryer. Well, then, have at you ! 
 
 VU. Cor. I am at the mark, sir : I'll give aim* 
 to you, 
 And tell you how near you shoot. 
 
 Lawyer. Most literated judges, please your lord- 
 ships 
 So to connive your judgments to the view 
 Of this debauch'd and divcrsivolcnt woman ; 
 Who such a black t concatenation 
 Of mischief liath effected, that to cxtirp 
 Tiio memory oft, must be the consummatiou 
 Of her and her projections, — 
 
 VU. Cor. What's all this? 
 
 Lawyer. Hold your peace : 
 Exorbitimt sins must have oxulceration. 
 
 VU. Cor. Surely, my lords, this lawyer liorc * 
 hath Bwallow'd 
 Some pothecaries' § bills, or proclamations ; 
 And now tho hard and undigestiblo words 
 Come up, like stones wo use give hawks for physic : 
 Wliy, this w Wolah to Latin. 
 
 Lawya: My lordn, tho woman 
 KnowB not her tropes nor figures,!! nor is porfoct 
 
 • J'tt i/iv* aim) " llu wlio (Mi'« aim W!in Htntii)iio<l Hour 
 the butU, and |KjUiUid out after every dUiehur)fo, liow 
 wlilo, or how iihiirt, tlio arrow foil of tho murk." 800 
 Oiflurd'a note on the ox|iruiiiilona rrv aim and j/lw aim, 
 MaMliiKor'n 7(<m<(i/i>iii, not 1. ho. ;t. 
 
 t Uucl\ Ointttod In the 4to. uflAni. 
 
 ] hrrt] OriiUtcxI In the 4tn. of XKW. 
 
 I polhtcarirt'] Tho 4Ui. of IflSl '•<i;«rfArt-«riri.' 
 
 II »orJI(/urtt\ Oiiilltod lu the Ito. of 1(U1. 
 
 In the academic derivation 
 Of grammatical elocutiou. 
 
 Fratu de Med. Sir, yoiu- pains 
 Shall be well spar'd, aud your deep eloquence 
 Be worthily applauded amongst those 
 Which undei-stand you. 
 
 lyUicyer. My good lord, — 
 
 Fran, de Med. Sir, 
 Put up your papers in your fustian bag, — 
 
 [Fbancisco tptatt Ihii as in ncom. 
 
 Cry mercy, sir, 'tis buckram, — and accept 
 My notion of your learn'd verbosity. 
 
 Lawyer. I most graduatically thank your lord- 
 ship : 
 I shall have use for them elsewhere. 
 
 Mont. I shall be plainer with you, and paint 
 out 
 Your follies in more natural red and white 
 Than that upon your ciieek. 
 VU. Cor. 0, you mistake: 
 You raise a blood as noble in this cheek 
 As ever was your mother's. 
 
 Mont. I must spare you, till proof cry "whore" 
 to that. — 
 Observe this creature here, my honour'd lords, 
 A woman of a most prodigious spirit, 
 la her effected. 
 
 VU. Cor. Honourable my lord,* 
 It doth not suit a reverend cardinal 
 To play the lawj'cr thus. 
 
 Mo7it. 0, your trade instructs your language. — 
 You see, my lords, what goodly fruit she seems ; 
 Yet, like those apples t travellers report 
 To grow where Sodom and Gomorrah stood, 
 I will but touch her, and you straight shall see 
 She'll fall to soot aud ashes. 
 
 VU. Cor. Your envenom'd 
 ^thecai-yt should do't. 
 \jJ/on/. I am re8olv'd,§ 
 
 • llonourabU my lord] Tho 4to. of 1631 " My honorable 
 \jotA : " but compare, hi a later scouo, " HMt my lortl, 
 most furtuiint«ly welcome," &o. 
 
 t Vet, lilt Ihott api>l(*, Ac] " This account U taken (Vom 
 MnundeviUo'ii Trav<t*. See Kditlou. ITii, p. 122. 'And 
 also the Cy teea tliore worcn lost, bccniiso of Synne. And 
 there lH;i(ydon jfrowou trvos, that b> r ':" 
 anil /air( o/colour to txhohlr .- but : 
 eulltlhe lirm in tteo, ht tchnltt .fyntif :. - : 
 
 Cynthri; iu tokene that, be Wnttho ol Oud, the Cytoca 
 and tlio Lond woron brcnto and sonkon into Ilolle. Sum 
 men clu|>en thiit Hv><<, the I^ikd IhUfi'Mdeo ; Numnto tho 
 Flum of DuvelcH ; and itiinio that KK>m thnl lit ever 
 ntynkyii(;o. And in (o that See Kunkou tho !> CyteoH, bo 
 Wralhu of Clutl ; that i« to Hoyne, Axiom, Qomorrt, 
 Aldiimn, Sulioym, and So((tir.'" Rbkd. 
 
 J l'i>llierary\ The 4 to. uf lOal " Ai>oHi<r<try." 
 
 f rtivlv'tl] i. 0. oonvlitcod. 
 
THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 21 
 
 Were there a second Paradise to lose, 
 This devil would betray it. 
 Vit. Cor. jooor charity ! 
 Tliou art seldom found in scarlet. 
 Mont. Who knows not how, when several night 
 by night 
 Her gates were chok'd with coaches, and her rooms 
 Outbrav'd the stars with several kind of lights ; 
 When she did counterfeit a prince's court 
 In music, banquets, and most riotous surfeits ] 
 This whore, foi-sooth, was holy. 
 
 Vit. Cor. Ha ! whore ! what's that ? 
 f j 3Iont. Shall I expound whore to you? sure, I 
 ' shall; 
 
 I'll give their perfect character. They are first, 
 Sweet-meats which rot the eater ; * in man's 
 
 nostrils •[* 
 Poison'd perfumes : they are cozening alchymy ; 
 Shipwrecks in calmest weather. What are whores ! 
 Cold Russian winters, that appear so barren 
 As if that nature had forgot the scoring : 
 They are the true material fire of hell : 
 Worse than those tributes i' the LowCountries paid, 
 Exactions upon meat, drink, garments, sleep, 
 Ay, even on man's perdition, his sin : 
 They are those brittle evidences of law 
 Which forfeit all a wretched man's estate 
 For leaving out one syllable. What are whores ! 
 They are those flattering bells have all one tune, 
 At ypeddings and at funerals. Your rich whores 
 Are only treasuries by extortion fill'd. 
 And emptied by curs'd riot. They are worse. 
 Worse than dead bodies which are begg'd at 
 
 gallows,! 
 And wrought upon by surgeons, to teach man 
 Wherein he is imperfect. What's a whore ! 
 She's like the guilty § counterfeited coin 
 Which, whosoe'er first stamps it, brings in trouble 
 All that receive it. 
 
 Vit. Cor. This character scapes me. 
 
 Mont. You, gentlewoman ! 
 Take from all beasts and from all minerals 
 Their deadly poison — 
 
 Vit. Cor. Well, what then ? 
 
 Mont. I'll tell thee ; 
 I'll find in thee a pothecary's || shop. 
 To sample them all. 
 
 * Sweet-meats which rot the eater'] So Dekker ; 
 " What giues she me? good words. 
 Sweet meates that rotle the eater." 
 
 The Whore of Bab'jlon, 1607, Sig. I. 2. 
 t nostrils] The 4to. of 1612 "nostril." 
 X gallows\ The4to. of 1631 " t/i' gallows. " 
 § guilty] The 4to of 1631 "gilt." 
 II apothecary's] The ito. of 1631 "an apothecary's." 
 
 ^Fr. Am. She hath liv'd ill. 
 Fncf. Am. True; but the cardinal's too bitter. 
 3fo7it. You know what whore is. Next the 
 d evil ad ultery. 
 Enters the devil murder. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Your unhappy 
 Husband is dead. 
 
 Vit. Cor. 0, he's a happy husband : 
 Now he owes nature nothing. 
 
 Fran, de Med. And by a vaulting-engine. 
 3Iont. An active plot; he jump'd into his grave. 
 Frail, de Med. What a prodigy was't 
 That from some two yards' height* a slender man 
 Should bi-eak his neck ! 
 Mont. I'the rushes ! f 
 Fran, de Med. And what's more, 
 Upon the instant lose all use of speech, 
 All vital motion, like a man had lain 
 Wound up three days. Now mark each circum- 
 stance. 
 Mont. And look upon this creature was his 
 wife. 
 She comes not like a widow ; she comes arm'd 
 With scorn and impudence : is this a mourning- 
 habit? 
 Vit. Cor. Had I foreknown his death, as you 
 suggest, 
 I would have bespoke my mourning. 
 Mont. 0, you are cunning. 
 Vit. Cor. You shame your wit and judgment. 
 To call it so. What ! is my just defence 
 By him that is my judge call'd impudence ? 
 Let me appeal, then, from this Christian court J 
 To the uncivil Tartar. 
 Mont. See, my lords, 
 She scandals our proceedings. 
 
 Vit. Cor. Humbly thus, 
 Thus low, to the most worthy and respected 
 Lieger ambassadors, § my modesty 
 And woman-hood I tender ; but withal. 
 So entangled in a cursed accusation. 
 That my defence, of force, like Perseus,|| 
 
 * heigW] The 4 to. of 1631 "high." 
 
 t tlve rushes] With which floors were formerly strewed, 
 before the introduction of carpets. 
 
 { Cliristian court'] " We have here an instance of the 
 introduction of terms into one country, which peculiarly 
 belong to another. In England the Ecclesiastical Courts, 
 where causes of adultery are cognizable, are called Courts 
 Christian." Reed. 
 
 § Lieger amba.isadors] i. e. resident ambassadors. 
 
 II Pe^-seus] A corruption, for which I know not what 
 to substitute. Can "Portia" be the right reading? 
 ("Portia, the wife of Brutus and daughter of Cato .... 
 she feared not with her womanish spirit to imitate 
 (if not exceed) the resolution of her father in his 
 
22 
 
 THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 Must personate masculiue Tirtae. To the point 
 Find me but gxiilty, sever head from body, 
 We'll part good friends : I scorn to hold my life 
 At youra or any man's entreaty, sir. 
 
 E ivi, Am. She hat lj a hnLv a spirit.— • '^ 
 
 Mont. Well, well, such counterfeit jfi3Ml*J 
 . Make true ones oft suspcctedj___ 
 Tit. Cor. Tou are deceiv'd : 
 For know, that all your strict-combinM heads, 
 Which strike against this mine of diamonds, 
 Shall prove but gLissen hammers, — they shall 
 
 break. 
 These are but feiguJsd shadows of my evils : 
 Terrify babes, my lord, with painted devils ; 
 I am past such needless palsy. For your names 
 Of whoro and murderess, they proceed from you, 
 As if a man should spit against the wind ; 
 The filth retm-ns in's face. 
 
 Mont. Pray you, mistress, satisfy me one 
 question : 
 Who lodg'd beneath your roof that fatal night 
 Your husband brake his neck ? 
 
 Brack. That question 
 Enforceth me break silence : I was there. 
 
 Mont. Yom* business ? 
 
 Bradi. Wiiy, I came to comfort her, 
 And take some course for settling her estate. 
 Because I heard her husband was in debt 
 To you, my lord. 
 
 Mont. He was. 
 
 Brack. And 'twaa strangely feai-M 
 That you would cozen her. 
 
 Mont. Who made you overseer? 
 
 Bracfi. Whj', my charity, my charity, which 
 should flow 
 From every generous and noble spirit 
 To orphans and to widows. 
 
 Mont. Your lust. 
 
 Brack. Cowardly dogs bark loudest : sirrah 
 l)rie8t, 
 I'll tidk with you hereafter. Do you hear ? 
 The Bword you frame of such an eicellout temper 
 I'll uhcathe in your own bowels. 
 There are a number of thy coat rosemblo 
 Your common post-boys. 
 
 Mont. Ha ! 
 
 Brac/i,. Your mercenary post-boys : 
 Your letters curry trutli, but 'tis your guise 
 To fill your mouths with gross an<l impudent lies. 
 
 dMUi." fta,— «aya lloywood, Hut. of Ifonwrn, p. 130, 
 cd. 1034.) 
 
 • TrrtiS^i babft, my lord, iPiM paint*il ileviU] "8o In 
 Uaet»rtJ>, A. -J. H J. 
 
 ' 'lla tlio oyo o( ehUdhmMt 
 Tluit fottni a ixiitUid litvU,'" Rkbu. 
 
 Serv. My lord, your gown. 
 
 Brack. Thou liest, 'twas my stool : 
 Bestow't upon thy master, that will challenge 
 The rest o' the household-stulT; for Bracbiano 
 Was ne'er so beggarly to take a stool 
 Out of another's lodging : let him make 
 Vallance for his bed on't, or a demi-foot-cloth • 
 For his most reverend moiL+ MouticeLso, 
 Nemo me impune lacatsit. [E.vit. 
 
 Mont. Your champion's gone. 
 
 Vit. Cor. The wolf may prey the better. 
 
 Fan. de Mtd. ily lord, there's great su5picioa 
 of the murder, 
 r ^ut no sound proof who did it For my part, 
 ^ I do not think she hath a soul so black 
 To act a deed so bloody : if she have, 
 As in cold countries husb.mdmen plant vines. 
 And with warm blood manure them, even so 
 One summer she will bear unsavoury fruit, 
 And ere next spring wither both branch and root. 
 The act of blood let pass; only descend 
 To matter of incontinence. 
 
 VU. Cor. I discern poison 
 Under your gilded pills. 
 
 Mont. Now the duke's gone, I will produce a 
 letter, 
 Wherein 'twas plotted he and you should meet 
 At an apothecary's summer-house, 
 Dow^i by the river Tiber, — view't, my lords, — 
 Where, after wanton bathing and the heat 
 Of a lascivious banquet, — I pray read it, 
 I shame to speak the rest. 
 
 Vit. Cor. Grant I was tempted ; 
 Temptation to lust proves not the act : 
 Cojsta at quam nemo rogavit.^ 
 You read his hot love to me, but you want 
 My frosty answer. 
 
 Mont. Frost i'the dog-days ! strange ! 
 
 Vit. Cor. Condenm you me for that the duke 
 did lt)ve mo ! 
 So may you blame some fair and crystal river 
 Fur that some melancholic distracted man 
 Hath drown'd himself in't. 
 Mont. Truly drown'd, mdeod. 
 
 Vit. Cor. Simi up my faults, I pray, and you 
 shall fuid, 
 That beauty, ami gay clothes, a merry heaj-t. 
 And a good stomuch tt^) [a] feiu<t, an< all. 
 All tlio poor crimes that you can charge me with. 
 In faith, my loni, you mi(^ht go piitol fliea; 
 The Bport would bo ntoro noblo. 
 
 • itrmi/oot-elaih] i. •. demi-houBlng. 
 
 t moit\ 1. 0. mulo. 
 
 J l\uta ft, &0.J 0»ld, Aukor. I. 8. 
 
THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, YITTORIA COROTMEONA. 
 
 23 
 
 Mont. Very good. 
 
 Vit. Cor. But take you your course : it seems 
 you have beggar'd me first. 
 And now would fain undo me. I have houses. 
 Jewels, and a poor remnant of cnisadoes : * 
 .Would those would make you charitable ! 
 'X\ Mont. If the devil 
 TDid ever take good shape, behold his picture. 
 
 Vit. Cor. You have one virtue left, — 
 You will not flatter me. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Who brought this letter ? 
 
 Vit. Cor. I am not compell'd to tell you. 
 
 Mont. My lord duke sent to you a thousand 
 ducats 
 The twelfth of August. 
 
 Vit. Cor. 'Twas to keep your cousin 
 From prison : I paid use for't. 
 
 Mont. I rather think, 
 'Twas interest for his lust. 
 
 Vit. Cor. Who says so 
 But yourself ? if you be my accuser, 
 Pray, cease to be my j udge : come from the bench ; 
 Give in your evidence 'gainst me, and let these 
 Be moderators. My lord cardinal, 
 Were your intelligencing eare as loving 
 As to my thoughts, had you an honest tongue, 
 I would not care though youproclaim'd them all. 
 
 Mont. Go to, go to. 
 After your goodly and vain-glorious banquet, 
 I'll give you a choke-pear. 
 
 Vit. Cor. 0' your own grafting? 
 
 Mont. You were born in Venice, honourably 
 descended 
 From the Vittelli : 'twas my cousin's fate, — 
 111 may I name the hour,— to many you : 
 He bought you of your father. 
 
 Vit. Cor. Ha ! 
 
 Mont. He spent there in six months 
 Twelve thousand ducats, and (to my acquaintance) 
 Receiv'd in dowry with you not one julio :f 
 'Twas a hard penny-worth, the ware being so light. 
 I yet but draw the curtain ; now to your picture : 
 You came from thence a most notorious strumpet. 
 And so you have continu'd. 
 
 Vit. Cor. My lord, — 
 
 Mont. Kay, hear me ; 
 You shall have time to prate. My LordBrachiano — 
 Alas, I make but repetition 
 Of what is ordinary and Rialto talk, 
 
 * cmsadoes\ The Portuguese coin, called Cnisado from 
 the cross on one side of it, has varied in value, at different 
 times, from Is. Zd. to 10«. 
 
 t jvXio\ "A cola of about six-pence value. Morysou, 
 in the Table prefixed to his Itinerary, caUs it a Giulio or 
 Paolo." Reed. 
 
 And ballated, and would be play'd o' the stage. 
 
 But that vice many times finds such loud fi-iends 
 
 That preachei's are charm'd silent. — 
 
 You gentlemen, Flamineo and Marcello, 
 
 The court hath nothing now to charge you with 
 
 Only you must remain upon your sureties 
 
 For your appearance. 
 
 Fran, de Med. I stand for MarceUo. 
 
 Flam. And my lord duke for me. 
 
 Mont. For you, Vittoria, your public fault, 
 Join'd to the condition of the present time, 
 Takes from you all the fruits of noble pity ; 
 Such a corrupted trial have you made 
 Both of your life and beauty, and been styl'd 
 Xo less an* ominous fate than blazing stars 
 To princes : heart your sentence ; you ai-e coufiu'd 
 Unto a house of convertites, and your bawd J — 
 
 Flam, [aside.'] Who, I ? 
 
 Mont. The Moor. 
 
 Flam, [aside.'] 0, I am a sound man again. 
 
 Vit. Cor. A house of convertites ! what's that ]^ 
 
 Mont. A house 
 Of penitent whores. jH 
 
 Vit. Cor. Do the noblemen in Rome ~^' 
 Erect it for their wives, that I am sent 
 To lodge there] 
 
 Fran, de Med. You must have patience. 
 
 Vit. Cor. I must first have vengeance. 
 I fain would know if you have your salvation 
 By patent, that you proceed thus. 
 
 Mont. Away with her ! 
 Take her hence. 
 
 Vit. Cor. A rape ! a rape ! 
 
 Mont. How ! 
 
 Vit. Cor. Yes, you have ravish'd justice ; 
 Forc'd her to do your pleasure. 
 
 Alont. Fie, she's mad ! 
 
 Vit. Cor. Die with these § pills in your most 
 cursed maw || 
 Should bring you health ! or while you sit o' the 
 
 bench. 
 Let your own spittle choke you !^ 
 
 * an] The 4to. of 1612 "in." 
 
 t Aear] The 4to. of 1612 "heares," i.e., perhaps, 
 "here's." 
 
 X Unto a hovM of converiitu, <C-c.] Both the earliest 4tos. 
 give this Une to Vittoria. The 4to. 8f 1631 here, as 
 well as elsewhere, changes "convertites" into "convei-ts." 
 {"and your bated the Moor," i.e., along with your bawd 
 the Moor [Zanche].) 
 
 § tliese'] Sothetwoearlie8t4tos. Inalater4to. "those" 
 was substituted : but our old writers very frequently use 
 " these " and ' ' those " indiscriminately. 
 
 II maw] So the 4to. of 1631. The4to.ofl612 "mawes :" 
 but she is speaking to Monticelso only ; see in her next 
 speech "leave you the same devil" &c. 
 
24 
 
 THE \VHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORL\ COROMBONA^^A 
 
 Mont. She's tum'd Fury. 
 Vit. Cor. That the last day of judgment may 
 60 fiud you, 
 And leave you the same devil you were before ! 
 Instruct me, some good horse-lcccb, tc Epeuk 
 
 treason ; 
 For since you cannot take my life for deeds, 
 Take it for words : woman's poor revenge, 
 Which dwells but in the tongue ! I will not weep ; 
 No, I do scorn to call up one poor tear 
 To fawn on your injustice: bear me hcnco 
 Unto this house of — what's your mitigating title? 
 Mont. Of convert itcs. 
 
 Vu. Cor. It shall not be a house of convertites ; 
 My mind shall make it honester to me 
 Than the I'ope's palace, and more peaceable 
 Than thy soul, though thou art a cardinal. 
 Know this, and let it somewhat raise your spite, 
 Through darkness diamonds spread their richest 
 light.* 
 [Exeunt Vittoria Corombona, Lawyer, and Guards. 
 
 Re-enter Bracuiano. 
 Brack. Now you and I are friends, sir, we'll 
 shake hands 
 In a friend's grave together ; a fit place, 
 Being the emblem of soft peace, to atonet our 
 hatred. 
 Fran, de Med, Sir, what's the matter ] 
 Brack. I will not chase more blood from that 
 lov'd cheek ; 
 You have lost too much already : fare you well. 
 
 [Exit. 
 Fran, dc Med. IIow strange these words sound! 
 
 what's the interpretation ? 
 Flam, [aside.] Good ; this is a preface to the 
 discovery of the duchess' death : ho carries it 
 well. Because now I cannot counterfeit a whining 
 pas-sion for the death of my lady, I will feign a 
 mad humour for the disgrace of my sister; and 
 that will keep off idle questions. Treason's 
 
 * "This Whito Dovil of Italy aets off a bod cause so 
 ■poclou«ly, and pleads with sudiuiilmiocciico-roiiunibUiif; 
 boldiiCHH, tliat wo socin to suo that niutohloHH beauty of 
 hor fiico which liiNpircs suc-h gay conridcncu into hor ; 
 and aro rciwly to ox|>oct, wliou sho lioa done hor plond- 
 ing», that liur vory jiidKus, lior accusors, tlio jfnivo am- 
 boiuuulura wlio (til lui npuc-tiktorH, and all tlio court, will 
 rUo uiid niitl<u pt^flur to dufuud lior in Hpito oftlic utinuat 
 c<invicllou ulliorifuilt; on tlioshophurds in Don yuixoto 
 nmlco pnilfor to follow Iho boautiful shophenloKM Mar- 
 ooU, • without roophiK' any profit out of hor niauifoiit 
 rotolulion inndo thoro in tlioir hoarlnif.' 
 
 ' Ho Nwoot and lovoly <1ihs sho inuko the shanio, 
 Which, lilto n ranlciT in tlio fiui^mnl rose, 
 DiMwsjM.t the Ijciiuly of Imr huddinK' nnnio. "' 
 
 C. Uiinli. (.S/irr. ..//i'ri(/, /)/•,!,„. I'lKtt, p. ■-••-'y.) 
 ) itl<mt\ "1.0. roconollo." HreicviCN'i. 
 
 tongue hath* a vill^atJus palsy in't : I will talk 
 
 to any ma n, hoar o o man, and for a time appear 
 
 '^^r^)oliticjnadmau.| [Exit. 
 
 Enter Giovamni, Count Lodovico, ami Attendant. 
 
 Fran, de Med. How now, my noble cousin ! 
 what, in black ! 
 
 Giov. Yes, uncle, I was taught to imitate you 
 In virtue, and you must imitate me 
 In colours of your garments. My sweet mother 
 la— 
 
 Fran, de Med. How! where? 
 
 ^(or. Is there; no, yonder: indeed, sir, I'll 
 not tell you, 
 For I shall mjike you weep. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Is dead 1 
 
 Gior. Do not blame me now, 
 I did not tell you so. 
 
 Lod. She's dead, my lord. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Dead ! 
 
 Mont. Bless'd lady, thou art now above thy 
 woes ! — 
 Wilt please your lordships to withdraw a little 1 
 [Exeunt Ambassadors. 
 
 Giov, What do the dead do, uncle? do they 
 eat, 
 Hear music, go a hunting, and be merry, 
 As we that live ] 
 
 Fran, de Med. No, coz ; they sleep. 
 iliov. Lord, Lord, that I were dead ! 
 I have not slept these six nights. — ^Vhcn do 
 they wake ? 
 Fran, de Med. When God shall please. 
 Giov. Good God, let her sleep ever !t 
 For I have kno^vn her wnke au hundred nights, 
 When all the pillow where she laid her head 
 Was brine-wet with her teai-s. I am to complain 
 
 to you, sir ; 
 I'll tell you how they have us'd her now she's 
 
 dead : 
 They wrapp'd her in K cruel fold of loadj 
 TLnd would not let me kiss her. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Thou didst love her. 
 Giov. I have often heard hor say she gave mo 
 suck, 
 And it should seem by that sho dearly lov'd mo, 
 Since princes Beldom do it. 
 
 Fran, de Med. O, all of my poor sister that 
 rcnuiins ! — 
 Take him away, for (Jod's sake I ' 
 
 I Kxrunt Giovanni and Attoudnut. 
 Mont, How now, my lord ! 
 
 • Kath] Tho4to. oflOSl "wUK" 
 
 t lloth U>a earlloat 4toa. give Mx\» lino to FnvucUco. 
 
THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBON^A 
 
 25 
 
 / 
 
 Fran, de Med. Believe me, I am uothiug but 
 her grave ; 
 And I shall keep her blessed memory 
 Longer than thousand epitaphs. 
 
 {Exm.nt Fraxcisco de Medicis and Monticelso. 
 
 ^"/i^ Re-enter Flamineo * as distracted. 
 
 Flam. "We endure the strokes like anvils or 
 hard steel, 
 Till pain itself make us no pain to feel. 
 Who shall do me right now? is this the end of 
 service? I'd rather go weed garlic; travel through 
 France, and be mine own ostler ; wear sheep-skin 
 linings, or shoes that stink of blacking; be 
 entered into the list of the forty thousand ped- 
 lars in Poland. 
 
 Re-enter Ambassadors. 
 Would I had rotted in some surgeon's house at 
 Venice, built upon the pox as well as on piles, 
 ere I had served Brachiano ! 
 
 Savoy Amh. You must have comfort. 
 Flam. Your comfortable words ai'e like honey ; 
 they relish well in your mouth that's whole, but 
 in mine that's wounded they go down as if the 
 sting of the bee were in -them. 0, they have 
 wrought their purpose cunningly, as if they 
 would not seem to do it of malice ! In this a 
 politician imitates the devil, as the devil imitates 
 a cannon ; wheresoever he comes to do mischief, 
 he comes with his backside towards you. 
 French Amh. The proofs are evident. 
 Flam. Proof ! 'twas corruption. gold, what 
 a god ai-t thou ! and man, what a devil art 
 thou to be tempted by that cui'sed mineral ! 
 Yourt diversivolent lawyer, mark him : knaves 
 turn informers, as maggots turn to flies ; you 
 may catch gudgeons with either. A cardinal ! 
 I would he would hear me : there's nothing so 
 holy but money will coi-rupt and putrify it, like 
 victual t under the line. You are happy in 
 England, my lord : here they sell justice with 
 those weights they press men to death with. 
 horrible salary ! 
 
 Eng. Avib. Fie, fie, Flamineo ! 
 
 [Exeunt Ambassadors. 
 
 Flam. Bells ne'er ring well, till they are at 
 their full pitch ; and I hope yon cardinal shall 
 never have the gi'ace to pray well, till he come 
 to the scaffold. If they were racked now to 
 
 * Re-enter Flamineo, &c.] This is not a new scene ; for 
 Lodovico and Marcello are still on the stage, and speak 
 presently. 
 
 t Your'] The three earliest 4tos " Tou." 
 
 X victual] The 4to. of 1031 "victiials." 
 
 know the confederacy, but your noblemen are 
 
 privileged from the rack ; and well may, for a 
 little thing would pull some of them a-pieces 
 afore they came to their arraignment. Religion, 
 0, how it Ls commedled* with policy ! The first 
 bloodshed in the world happened about religion. 
 Would I were a Jew ! 
 
 3Iar. 0, there are too many. 
 
 Flam. You are deceived : there are not Jews 
 enough, priests enough, nor gentlemen enough. 
 
 Mar. How ? 
 
 Flam. I'll prove it; for if there were Jews 
 enough, so many Christians would not turn 
 usurers; if priests enough, one should not have 
 six benefices; and if gentlemen enough, so many 
 early mushrooms, whose best growth sprang 
 from a dunghill, should not aspire to gentility. 
 Farewell : let others live by begging ; be thou 
 one of them practise the art of Wolner in 
 Eugland,t to swallow all's given thee; and y^t 
 let one purgation make thee as hungry again as 
 fellows that work in a J saw-pit. I'll go hear the 
 screech-owl. \_Exit. 
 
 Lod. [asicZe.] This was Brachiano's pander; 
 and 'tis strange 
 That, in such open and apparent guilt 
 Of his adulterous sister, he dare utter 
 So scandalous a passion. I must wind him. 
 
 * commedled] "i.e. co-mingled. To meddle anciently- 
 signified to mix, or mingle." Steevens. 
 
 t the art of Wolner in JEngland] ' ' The exploits of this 
 glutton, and the manner of his death, are mentioned by 
 Dr. Miifftt, who wrote in Queen Elizabeth's time. See 
 his Treatise, entitled 'Health's Improvement : or, Rules 
 comprizing and discovering the nature, method, and 
 manner of preparing all sorts of foods used in this nation.' 
 Republished by Oldys and Dr. James, IQmo. 1746. 
 ' Neither was our country always void of a Woolmar, who 
 living in my memory in the court seemed like another 
 Pandareus, of whom Autonius Liberalis writeth thus 
 much, that be had obtained this gift of the Goddess 
 Ceres, to eat iron, glass, oyster- shells, raw fish, raw 
 flesh raw fruit, and whatsoever else he would put into 
 bis stomach, without ofience.' P. 376. ' Other fish being 
 eaten raw, is harder of digestion than raw beef; for 
 Diogenes died with eating of raw fish ; and Wobmr (our 
 English Pandareus) digesting iron, glass, and oyster- 
 shells, by eating a raw eel was over-mastered.' P. 123. 
 He is also mentioned by Taylor the Water Poet, in his 
 account of The Great Eater of Kent, p. 145. ' Milo the 
 Crotonian could hardly be his equall: and Woolner of 
 Windsor was not worthy to bee his footman.' In the 
 books of the Stationers' company, in the year 1567, is the 
 following entry : 'Rec. of Henry Deuhara, for bis lycense 
 for the pryutinge of a booke intituled Pleasaunte Tales of 
 t\ie\yioiBychard Wolner, &c."' Reed. 
 
 The seventh chapter of The Life of Long Meg of West- 
 minster, 1635, relates "how she used Woolner the singing 
 man of Windsor; that was the great eater, and how she 
 made him pay for his breakfast." 
 
 J «] Omitted in the 4to. of 1012. 
 
20 
 
 THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA CORO^fBONA. 
 
 JU-mttr Flamiiibo. 
 Flam, [aside.] How dares tLia banish "d count 
 return to Rome, 
 His pardon not yet purclias'd ! I have heard 
 The deceafi'd ducheas gave him pension, 
 And that he came along from Pudua 
 Ithc train of the young prince. There's some- 
 
 wiiat in't : 
 Physicians, that cure poisons, still do work 
 With counter-poisons. 
 
 3/or. Mark this strange encounter. 
 Flam. The g'xi of melancholy turn thy gall to 
 poison. 
 And let the stigmatic* wrinkles in thy face. 
 Like to the boisterous waves in a rough 
 
 tide. 
 One still overtake another. 
 
 Lod. I do thank thee, 
 And I do wish ingeniously t for thy sake 
 The dog-days all year long. 
 
 Flam. How croaks the i-aven ? 
 Is our good duchess dead? 
 Ziod. Dead. 
 Flam. fate ! 
 Misfortune comes, like the coroner's business. 
 Huddle upon huddle. 
 
 Lod. Shalt thou and I join house-keeping? 
 Flam. Yes, content : 
 Let's be unsociably sociable. 
 
 Lod. Sit some three days together, and dis- 
 course. 
 Flam. Only with making faces : lie in our 
 
 clothes. 
 Lod. With faggots for our pillows. 
 Flam. And bo lousy. 
 
 Lod. In taffuta linings; that's genteel melan- 
 choly : 
 Sleep all day. 
 
 Flam. Yes; and, like your melancholic^ hare. 
 Feed after midnight. — 
 
 We are observ'd : see how yon couplo grieve ! § 
 Lod. What a Btrongo creature ia a laughing 
 
 fool I 
 
 * stiffmalic] "i.«. marlcod OS with a brand ortnfaniy." 
 
 STKKVUla. 
 
 Bo IloywooJ ; 
 
 "Print In my fi\co 
 Tho m«wt tiigmniiflt tltlo of a vlllftino." 
 
 .<-M Kindntu, 1(517, SIr. C. ^. 
 \ <"• - of WcIjhUji's tlnio ingakiout 
 
 OJid iii(.' .. ihiimclcd. 
 
 J mW<inr/i»(i<-J Ttio «to. of 10;il " nw/nnWiofy." — On tho 
 nirlnnclvly of « Imro neo tlio uot«a of SlinkeH|ioaro'« coiu- 
 tf ' 'It I'lirt „/ llmry IV. net 1. w. 'i. 
 
 ■ n tou/'U (/ririv) Probably lio ullude* to 
 
 1 1 1 MuJillcobo; but llioy ccrlaliily aro not on 
 
 Uto •lago at (iroaoiit. 
 
 As if man were created to no use 
 But only to show his teeth. 
 
 Flam. Ill tell thee what,— 
 It would do well, instead of looking-glasses. 
 To set one's face each morning by a* saucer 
 Of a witch's congealed blood, 
 
 Lod. Precious gue ! f 
 
 Wo'lJ i>f>vpr JTiarr- ^___ 
 
 ' Flam. Never, till the beggary of courtiers^ 
 The discontent of churchmen, want of soldier8,\ 
 I And sdl the creatures that hang manacled, 
 Worse than strappado'd, on the lowest felly 
 Of Fortune's wheel, be taught, in our two lives, ' 
 To scorn that world which life of means deprive^. 
 
 Snter Aktonelli and Oasfaro. 
 
 Anlo. My lord, I bring good news. Tho Pope, 
 on's death-bed. 
 At the earnest suit of the Great Duke of Florence, 
 Hath sign'd your pardon, and restor'd unto 
 you 
 
 Lod. I thank you for your news. — Look up 
 again, 
 Flamineo ; see my pardon. 
 
 Flam. Why do you laugh 1 
 There was no such condition in our covenant. 
 
 Lod. Why ! 
 
 Flam. You shall not seem a happier man than I : 
 You know our vow, sir ; if you will be mcny. 
 Do it i'tho like posture as if some great man 
 Sato while his enemy wei-e executed ; 
 Though it be very lechery unto thee, 
 Do't with a crabbed Z politician's face. 
 
 Lod. Your sister is a damnable whore. 
 
 Flam. Ha! 
 
 Lo<l. Look you, I spake that laughing. 
 
 Flam. Dost ever think to speak again ? 
 
 Lod. Do you hear ! . 
 
 Wilt sell mo forty ounces of her blood 
 To water a mandrake ? 
 
 Flam. Poor lord, you did vow 
 To live a lousy creature. 
 
 Lod. Yea. 
 
 Flam. Liko one 
 That had for ever forfeited the day-light 
 By being iu debt. 
 
 Lod. Ha, ha I 
 
 • u] Tho 4to. oflftSl "fA*." 
 
 t i;ucj So soiiio ciiplott of Uie 4to. of 1013 ; other coplea 
 " l/riiit muf/f ; " tlic ^to. of 1(WI " ffut; " tlio 4toa. of IMfl 
 aiiillOT'J "roffut." — f(/M«(fh>n)tho Fr. i;tirtij-)nioaiia«roff(ie, 
 n Nhar|>or. SMv»(Olot$. In v.), wiw not «\vnro of tho pr«> 
 •ent imMMi^'o, whou, Kitor citluif two exnn>|>loa of tlio 
 word I'nitii llnaliwalto'it llontM Okort, ho oxproaaod » 
 mii«|>l>'liiii Umt "ifHt" wiia "»unnWtatton"of ltriUnv:ilto. 
 
 J cnibtHd] Tho 4to. oflMl ''tabbf." 
 
THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBO^ta. 
 
 27 
 
 Flam. I do not greatly wonder you do break ; 
 Your lordship learn'd 't long since. But I'll tell 
 yon,— 
 lod. What? 
 
 Flam. And 't shall stick by you, — 
 Lod. I long for it. 
 
 Flam. This laughter scurvily becomes your 
 face : 
 If you will not be melancholy, be angry. 
 
 [Strilces him. 
 
 See, now I laugh too. 
 Mar. You are to blame : I'll force you hence. 
 
 Lod. Unhand me. 
 
 [Exeunt Marcello ajid Flamineo. 
 
 That e'er I should be forc'd to right myself 
 Upon a pander ! 
 
 Anto. My lord, — • 
 
 Lod. Had been as good met with his fist a 
 thunderbolt. 
 
 Gas. How this shows ! 
 
 Lod. Uds'death, how did my sword miss him? 
 These rogues that are most weary of their lives 
 Still scape the greatest dangers. 
 A pox upon him ! all his reputation, 
 Nay, all the goodness of his family, 
 Is not worth half this earthquake : 
 I learn'd it of no fencer to shake thus : 
 Come, I'll forget him, and go drink some wine. 
 
 [JExeuiit. 
 
 Enter Francisco de Medicis * and Monticelso. 
 Mont. Come, come, my lord, untie your folded 
 thoughts. 
 And let them dangle loose as a bride's hair.f 
 Your sister's poison' d. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Far be it from my thoughts 
 To seek revenge. 
 Mont. What, are you turn'd all marble ? 
 Fran, de Med. Shall I defy him, and impose a 
 war 
 Most burdensome on my poor subjects' necks, 
 Which at my will I have not power to end ? 
 You know, for all the murders, rapes, and thefts, 
 Committed in the horrid lust of war, 
 He that unjustly caus'd it first proceed 
 Shall find it in his grave and in his seed. 
 
 Mont. That's not the course I'd wish you ; pray, 
 observe me. 
 
 * Enter Francisco de Medicis, Ac] Scene. The Same. 
 An apartment in the palace of Francisco, 
 t — untie your folded thoughts, 
 And let them dangle loose, as a bride's Jiair^ "Brides 
 formerly walked to church with their hair hanging loose 
 hehiud. Anne Bullen's was thus dishevelled when she 
 went to the altar with King Henry the Eighth." 
 
 Steevens. 
 
 We see that undermining more prevails 
 
 Than doth the cannon. Bear your wrongs 
 
 conceal'd, 
 And, patient as the tortoise, let this camel 
 Lcalk o'er your back lanbruis'd : sleep with the lion, 
 And let this brood of secure foolish mice 
 Play with your nostrils, till the time be ripe 
 For the bloody audit and the fatal gripe : 
 Aim like a cunning fowler, close one eye. 
 That you the better may your game espy. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Free me, my innocence, from 
 treacherous acts ! 
 I know there's thunder yonder ; and I'll stand 
 Like a safe valley, which low bends the knee 
 To some aspiring mountain ; since I know 
 Treason, like spiders weaving nets for flies, 
 By her foul work is found, and in it dies. 
 To pass away these thoughts, my honour'd lord, 
 It is I'eported you possess a book, 
 Wherein you have quoted,* by intelligence,, ■ 
 The names of all notorious ofl'euders 
 Lurking about the city. 
 
 Mont. Sir, I do; 
 And some there are which call it my black book : 
 Well may the title hold ; for though it teach not 
 The art of conjuring, yet in it lurk 
 The names of many devils. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Pray, let's see it. 
 
 Mont. I'll fetch it to your lordship. [Exit. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Monticelso, 
 I will not trust thee ; but in all my plots 
 I'll rest as jealous as a town besieg'd. 
 Thou canst not reach what I intend to act : 
 Your flax soon kindles, soon is out again ; 
 But gold slow heats, and long will hot remain. 
 
 Re-enter Monticelso, presents Francisco de Medicis 
 
 loith a book. 
 Mont. 'Tis here, my lord. 
 Fran, de Med. First, your intelligencers, pray, 
 
 let's see. 
 Mont. Iheir-nmabfiiLrisgs. strangely; and some 
 of them 
 You'd take for honest men. Next are panders, — 
 'i. aese are your pirates; and these following leaves 
 For base rogues that undo young gentlemen 
 By taking up commodities; f for politic bankrupts ; 
 
 * qiji,oted~\ "i. e. noted." Reed. 
 
 f — that undo young gentlemen 
 By taking up commodities'] "It was the practice of 
 usurers formerly, and has been continued by their suc- 
 cessors even to the present times, to defraud the neces- 
 s-' 'US who borrow money by furnishiug them with 
 goods and wares, to be converted into cash at a gi-eat loss 
 to the borrower. This was done to avoid the penal 
 Statutes against Usury. It was called taking up com- 
 
28 
 
 THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 For fellows that are bawds to their own wives. 
 Only to put off horses, and filiglit jewels, 
 Clocks, defiic'd plate, uud such couiuioditics. 
 At birth of their first children. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Are there such 1 
 
 Mont. These are for impudent bawds 
 That go in men's apparel ; for usurers 
 That share with scriveners for their good re- 
 portage ; 
 For lawyers that will antedate their writs : 
 And some divines you might find folded there, 
 But that I slip them o'er for conscience' sake. 
 Here is a general catalogue of knaves : 
 A man might study all the prisons o'er, 
 Yet never attain this knowledge. 
 
 Fran, de Med. JIurderei-s ! 
 Fold down the leaf, I pray. 
 Good my lord, let me borrow this strange doctrine. 
 
 Mont. Pray, use't, my lord. 
 
 Fran, de Med. I do assure your lordship. 
 You are a worthy member of the state, 
 And have done infinite good in your discovery 
 Of these offenders. 
 
 Mont. Somewhat, sir. 
 
 Fran, de Med. O God ! 
 Better than tribute of wolves paid in England : * 
 'Twill hang their skins o'the hedge. 
 
 Mont. I must make bold 
 To leave your lordship. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Dearly,t sir, I thank you : 
 If any ask for me at court, report 
 You have left me in the company of knaves. 
 
 [Exit MONTICELSO. 
 
 I gather now by this, some cunning fellow 
 That's my lord's officer, one::: tliat lately skipp'd 
 From a clerk's desk tip to a justice' § chair, 
 Hath made this knavish summons, and intends, 
 \b tlie Irish rebels wont were || to sell beads, 
 So to make prize of these. And thus it happens, 
 
 moditiff, and la often noticed in our nncicut writers. 
 8co Bovcnil iiiNtiincea in the notes of Mr. Kteovons uud 
 Dr. Farmer tu Mtature/or Mtamrt, A. 4. S. i." Heed. 
 
 * Btltrrlhan tribuJe,&c.'\ "TliiB tribute was imposed 
 on the WoUli Ijy King Edgar, In order tlint tlie nation 
 nii((lit be freed from these raveunus and destructive 
 bcajits. Drayton, in roltiMion, Song Oth, says : 
 
 • Tlirico funious Saxon King, ou wlioni time ue'or sliall 
 1 "•'■)■. 
 O K'lg ir ! who compoldst our Ludwal hence to pay 
 Throe liiimlrol w.ilvcs a year for tribute unto tliee : 
 And for tlml tribute jmid, oa famous niay'st thou be, 
 O compicrM Urlti»h Icing. l)y whom was first dostroy'd 
 The multitude of wolves, tliat long this land annoy'd.' " 
 
 ItKKU. 
 t /fc«rV] The 41o. of IflSI, "dtar." 
 J on/ J hSoino copieaol the iU\ of 1012, "and." 
 
 • >urti«*J The 4to. of l(l»l. •■ Jutticc't." 
 
 II teont terrt] The 4lo. of 1031, " trtr* teOHt." 
 
 Your poor rogues pay for't which have not the * 
 
 means 
 To present bribe in fist : the rest o'the band 
 .Vre raz'd out of the knaves' record ; or else 
 >Iy lord he winks at them with easy will ; 
 His man grows rich, the knaves are the knaves stilL 
 But to the use I'll make of it ; it shall serve 
 To point me out a listt of murderers. 
 Agents for any villauy. Did I want 
 Ten leash of courtezans, it wo\ild furnish me ; 
 Nay, laundress three armies. That in so little 
 
 paper 
 Should lie the undoing of so many men !* 
 'Tis not so big as twenty declarations. 
 See the corrupted use some make of books : 
 Divinity, wrested by some factious blood. 
 Draws swords, swells battles, and o'erthrows all 
 
 good. \ 
 
 To fashion my revenge more seriously, 
 Let me remember my dead sister's face : 
 Call § for her picture 1 no, I'll clos e mine eyes . 
 And in a melancholic thought I'll frame 
 
 Enter Isabella's ghost. r ^ 
 Her figure 'fore me. Now I ha't : — how strong tl 
 Imagination works ! how she can frame 
 Things which are not ! Methiuks she stands 
 
 afore me. 
 And by the quick idea of my mind, 
 Were my skill pregnant, I could di-aw her picture- 
 Thought, as a subtle juggler, make^iis deem u 
 Things supernatural, wluolr-yof!! have~aiugfr \/ 
 Common as sickness. \Tis my melancholy. — ^ 
 How cam'st thou by thy aSith"t^^tr6w^3re^m I 
 To question mine own idleness ! — Did ever 
 JIan dream awake till now 1 — Remove this object ; 
 Out of my brain with't : what have I to do 
 With tombs, or death-beds, funerals, or tears. 
 That have to meditate upon revenge 1 
 
 [SxU Gboat 
 So, now 'tis ended, like on old wife's story : 
 Statesmen think often they see stranger sights 
 Than madmen. Come, to this weighty business : 
 
 • tJu] Omitted In Uio 4la. of KKil. 
 f (I'^j Some coploa of the 410. of 1013, "l^"— i>ork*{« 
 a niispriut for "jIU." 
 
 t That in *o Uulf jHiprr 
 
 Shnuld lit tkt HHdoi$>i/ fnf to wuHy wrH] Some coploa of 
 the 4to. of 1012 ; 
 
 " That so little ]ui|M>r 
 Sh..." ■ -•■ ■ ,„•• 
 
 ( OW/J - /..k.i •• 
 
 II Hovel , . , . '.1.. 4(.. ..ilins, 
 
 " Now 1— 4<'/u(4 how airuug, ' 
 The 4to. otioai. "Aa»'<." 
 
 II yrt] Omitted In the two oarlioat 4tos., auJ tirat in- 
 serted In that u( 1006. 
 
(Vl'^.<'^'-' 
 
 THE WHITE DEVIL r OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 29 
 
 My tragedy must have some idle mirth in't, 
 Else it will never pass. I am in_love, / 
 In love with Corombona ; a nd my su it 
 TIj us ha lts toherJQ verse. — [ Wi'itcs. 
 
 I have doue it rarely : the fate of princes ! ! 
 I am so us'd to frequent flattery, l""""^ 
 
 That, being alone, I now flatter mys elf j 
 But it will serve ; 'tis seard;__i"~" 
 
 Enter Servant.* 
 
 Bear this 
 To the house of convertites,t and watch your 
 
 leisure 
 To give it to the hands of Coromhona, 
 Or to the matron, when some followers 
 Of Brachiauo may be by. Away ! [Exit Servant. 
 He that deals all by strength, his wit is shallow : 
 When a man's head goes through, each limb will 
 
 follow. 
 The engine for my business, bold Count Lodo- 
 
 wick : 
 
 'Tis gold must such an instrument procure ; 
 
 With empty fist no man dothj falcons lure. 
 
 Brachiano, I am now fit for thy encounter : 
 
 tike the wild Irish, I'll ne'er think thee dead 
 
 (Till I can play at football with thy head. 
 
 Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta moveio,^ 
 
 \\ ^:d x\S ^^^'- 
 
 Cp{ '.>' 1 inter the Matron H and Flamineo. 
 
 Matron. Should it be known the duke hath 
 such recourse 
 To your imprison'd sister, I were like 
 To incur much damage by it. 
 
 Flam. Not a scruple : 
 The Pope lies on his death-bed, and their heads 
 Are troubled now with other business 
 Than guarding of a lady. 
 
 Filter Servant. 
 
 Servant. Yonder's Flamineo in conference 
 With the matrona. — Let me speak with you ■ 
 I would entreat you to deliver for me 
 This letter to the fair Vittoria. 
 
 Matron. I shall, sir. 
 
 Servant. With all care and secrecy : 
 Hereafter you shall kuow me, and receive 
 Thanks for this courtesy. [Exit. 
 
 Flam. How now ! what's that ? 
 
 * Enter Sei-vanl] I may observe that occasionaUy in 
 old plays Servants enter, as here, -without being sum- 
 moned, just at the moment they happen to be wanted. 
 
 t convertites] See note t, P- 23. 
 
 t doth] The 4to. of 1631, "do." 
 
 § Flectere, &c.] Virgil, ^)i. vii. 312. 
 
 II Entei- the Matron, &c.] Scene. The Same. A room 
 in the House of Convertites. 
 
 Matron. A letter. 
 
 Flam. To my sister? I'll see't deliver'd. 
 
 Enter Brachiano. 
 Brack. What's that ¥ou read, Flamineo 1 
 Flam. Look. 
 
 Brack. Ha ! [reads^ " To the most unfortunate, 
 Jiis hest respected Vittoria." — ■ 
 Who was the messenger '] 
 Flam. I know not. 
 Brack. No ! who sent it ? 
 Flam. Ud'sfoot, you speak as if a man 
 Should know what fowl is cofBu'd in a bak'd 
 
 meat 
 Afore you cut it up. 
 
 Brack. I'll open't, were't her heart. — What's 
 here subscrib'd ! 
 '^Florence" ! this juggling is gross and palpable : 
 I have found out the conveyance. — Eead it, 
 read it. 
 Flam. [reacZs.] "Tour tears Fll turn to triumjihs, 
 be but mine : 
 Your pirop isfalVn: I inty, tkat a vine, 
 Which princes keretofore liave long'd to gatker, 
 Wanting supporters, now should fade and wither."- — ■ 
 Wine, i' faith, my lord, with lees would serve 
 his turn. — 
 " Your sad imprisonment Fll soon unckarm, 
 And with a princely uncontrolled artn 
 Lead you to Florence, where my love and care 
 Shall hang your wishes in my silver hair." — 
 A halter on his strange equivocation ! — 
 " Nor for my years return me the sad willow : 
 Who prefe)' blossoms before fruit that's mellow ? — 
 Rotten, on my knowledge, with lying too long 
 i'the bed-straw. — 
 
 " And all the lines of age tkis line convinces, 
 The gods never loax old, no more do princes." — 
 
 A pox on't, tear it ; let's have no more atheists, 
 for God's sake. 
 
 Brack. Ud'sdeath, I'll cut her into atomies,* 
 And let the irregular north-wind sweep her up. 
 And blow her into his nostrils ! Where's this 
 whore ? 
 Flam. That what do you call her 1 
 Brack. 0, I could be mad. 
 Prevent the curs'd diseasef she'll bring me to. 
 And tear my hair ofi" ! Where's this changeable 
 stufi-? 
 Flam. O'er head and ears in water, I assure you : 
 She is not for your wearing. 
 
 * atomie!:] The 4to. of 1631 " atomes." 
 t the mrs'd disease] One of the consequences of the 
 venereal disease is the coming off of the hair. 
 

 30 
 
 THE WHITE DEVIL; « >il, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 Brach. No,* you pander? 
 
 Flam. Wliat, me, my lord? am I your dog? 
 
 Brach. A blood-bound : do you brave, do you 
 stand mc ? 
 
 Flam. Stand you ! let those that have diseasca 
 run ; 
 I need no pla.stere.t ' 
 
 Brach. Would you be kick'd ? 
 
 Flan. Woijld you have your neck broke ? 
 I tell you, duke, I am not in Russia; X 
 My shins must be kept whole. 
 
 Brach. Do you know me? 
 
 Flam. O, my lord, methodically : 
 Ab in this world there are degrees of evils. 
 So in this world there are degrees of devils. 
 YouVo a great duke, I your poor secretary. 
 I do look now for a Spanish fig,§ or an Italian 
 salad, daily. 
 
 Brach. Pander, ply your convoy, and leave 
 your prating. 
 
 Flam. All your kindness to me is like that 
 miserable courtesy of Polyphemus to Ulysses ; 
 you reserve me to be devoured last : you would 
 
 • No\ 8orao copies of the 4to. of 1612 "In;" tke4to. 
 of 1C31 " e'en." 
 
 t plarteri] The 4tr). oflGSl "platter." 
 
 X — / am not in Ihusxa ; 
 My fldnt viuft be kept ichoW] "It appears from Giles 
 Fletcher's R\ui»e Commonwealth, 1591, p. 51, that on de- 
 termining an action of debt in that country, 'tho partie 
 convicted is delivered to the Serjeant, who hath a writte 
 for his warrant out of tlie Office, to carry him to the 
 Pravnuh, or Riplitcr of Juatice, if presently lieo pay not 
 the monie, or content not the partie. Tliis /*rar(».«A, or 
 Riphter, is a place noero to the office : where snch as 
 have Bontcnce passed against them, and refuse to jiay 
 tlmt which is adjudged, are beaten with great cudgels on 
 til* tJiiitne* and calves of their legges. Every forenoono 
 from eight to eleven they are set on tho PraveutJi, and 
 bcato in this s^rt till tho monie be p.ayd. Tho after- 
 noono and night time they are kepto in chaines by tho 
 Burjoaut : except they put in sufficient suertios for their 
 ap|)ciiranco at tho Praviuth at tho howcr appointed. 
 You shtiU see furtio or fiftie sUind together on the Pra- 
 VfUM/i all on n rowo, and their thin net thvs becudgelled 
 and bobantcd every morning with n piteous crio. If 
 after a yeiiro'H Htanding on the Praveush, tho |>artio will 
 not^ or liu'ko whurowithall to satiKfiu his cruditour, it ia 
 lawfull for him to sull liis wifo and children, cyther out- 
 light, or for a cortalnu termo ol yearoH. And if tho price 
 of thorn doo not iiinount to the full payment, the 
 cro<lil<nir miiy iaVo them to beo his bondHluvoH, for 
 ycaron or fur cvir. u. .• .i.linv' .in 11. c viiluo of the debt 
 tviulroth.' " llri 
 
 Bo 1. Diiyo ; 
 
 " !«)t him hiivi: UiiHKiaii l;i\v f.^r all his slnn, 
 Wbiilii that? A luo M.iwoM on his bare nhinN." 
 
 Tlir /Vir(i«i,.™< ../ Hen, KMI, SIg. O. 2. 
 
 I n .^imnifh .(J(/| " lU'furrlug to the ouNtom uf giving 
 |ioU<<n(t<l flgH U> Ihodo who wore tho objocia either of tho 
 HltnnlKh or llol'iin rovongo. Hco Mr. 8uovou»'b nolo on 
 J<in(f tUnr<) V. A. 3. H. 0." UkkIi. 
 
 dig turfs out of my grave to feed your larks ; that 
 would be music to you. Come, I'll lead you to her. 
 
 Brach. Do you face me ? 
 
 Flam. 0,* sir, I would not go before a politic 
 ei my with my back towards him, though there 
 were behind me a whirlpooL 
 
 ^^^ Enter Vittoria Corombosa. 
 
 Brach. Can you read, mistress? look upon that 
 letter : 
 Tiiere are no characters nor hieroglyphics ; 
 You need no comment : I am grown your receiver. 
 God's precious ! you shall be a brave great lady, 
 A stately and advanced whore. 
 Tit. Cor. Say, sir? 
 
 Brach. Come, come, let's see your cabinet, dis- 
 cover 
 Your treasury of love-letters. Death and Furies ! 
 I'll see them all. 
 
 Vit. Cor. Sir, upon my soul, 
 I have not any. Whence was this directed? 
 
 Brach. Confusion on your politic ignorance ! 
 You are reclaim'd,t are you? I'll give you the 
 
 bells, 
 And let you fly to the devil. 
 Flam. Ware hawk, my lord. 
 Vit. Cor. "Florence" ! this is some treacherous 
 plot, my lord : 
 To me he ne'er was lovely,^ I protest, 
 So much as in my sleep. 
 / Brack, llight 1 tU*; 
 ' Your beauty ! 0, ten thousand curses on't ! 
 How long have I beheld the devil in cry.'=tal ! § 
 Thou hast led me, like an heathen sacrifice, 
 _WitU muBic_and_witli fatal yokes of fl^wp£i___- 
 To my eternal ruin. Woman to man 
 Is either a god or a wolf. 
 Vit. Cor. My lord,— 
 liracJi, Away ! 
 W "11 be as difforing as two adamants ; 
 The one shall shun the other. A\'hat, dost 
 
 weep? 
 Procure but ton of thy dissembling trade, 
 
 • 0] Omitted in some copies ^f tho 4to. of 1012. 
 
 t rtrtaim'il] Used here wltli a qulbblo : to r-relaim a 
 hawk is to make her gontlo and fumiliar.— to tame hor. 
 
 J /<.rr/.v] Somocopio* oflhc 4to. of Idl'J, " lk»tn;ht on." 
 
 \ flow loii;i hat-f I Inhtld the lUril in ctytnl] '•'T\\e 
 boril, which U a kind of cryxtnl, hath a wonk tincturo of 
 rod in It. Among other tricka of luitrologora, the diii- 
 oovcry of |uiitt «r ^itMrt' evonta wan aupiMiHod to l>o tho 
 cnnao pionco of looking Into It. Soo jtulnfji't Aliscel- 
 In'iirit, p. llV'i. edit, IT.M." IlKKD. 
 
 b llowlanda, do«<'rlblng a ditliblcr in magl<j, aaya ; 
 *' IIo rnn tntnaformo himaelfo unto an amw, 
 Show you tilt IUmII in a Vhrittnll fflnfit." 
 Tilt Lcttini) <if J/umori maoti in the tlaid- I'aint, 101 1, Sat. 3. 
 
tl 
 
 THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMEOK"A. 
 
 31 
 
 Ye'd* furnisli all the Irish funerals 
 With howling past wild Irish. 
 
 Flam. Fie, my lord ! 
 
 Brack. That hand, that cursed hand, which I 
 have wearied 
 With doting kisses ! — my sweetest duchess, ' 
 How lovely art thou now ! — Myi* loose thoughts 
 Scatter like quicksilver: I was bewitch'd; 
 For all the world speaks ill of thee. 
 
 Vit. Cor. No matter : 
 I'll live so now, I'll make that world recant. 
 And change her speeches. You did name your 
 duchess. 
 
 Brack. Whose death God pardon ! 
 
 Vit. Cor. Whose death God revenge J 
 On thee, jtnost godless duke ! 
 
 Flam. Now for two^§^ whirl^vinds. 
 
 Vit. Cor. What have I gain'd by thee but 
 infamy 1 
 Thou hast stain'd the spotless honour of my house. 
 And frighted thence noble society : 
 Like those, which, sick o'the palsy, and retain 
 Ill-scenting foxes 'bout them, ai'e still shunn'd 
 By those of choicer nostrils. What do you call 
 
 this house ? 
 Is this your palace ? did not the judge style it 
 A house of penitent whores 1 who sent me to it ] 
 Who hath the honour to advance Vittoria 
 To this incontinent college 1 is't not you? 
 Is't not your high preferment 1 Go, go, brag 
 . How many ladies you have undone like me. 
 Fare you well, sir; let me hear no moi-e of you : 
 I had a limb corrupted to an ulcer, 
 But I have cut it off; and now I'll go 
 Weeping to heaven on crutches. For your gifts, 
 I will return them all ; and I do wish 
 That I could make you full executor 
 To all my sins. 0, that I couljd toss myself 
 Into a grave as quickly ! for all thou art wortli 
 I'll not shed one tear more, — I'll burst first. 
 
 [She throtcs herself upon a bed. 
 
 Brach. I have drunk Lethe. — Vittoria ! 
 My dearest happiness ! Vittoria ! 
 What do you ail, my love ? why do you weep ? 
 
 Vit. Cor. Yes, I now weep poniards, do you see? 
 
 Brach. Are not those matchless eyes mine'? 
 
 * Ye'd'] The 4to. of 1631, " We'll" 
 t My] The three earliest 4tos. " Thii." 
 X Brach. Whose death God pardon ! 
 Vit. Cor. Whose death God revenge, &c ] A recollection 
 of Shakespeare ; 
 
 " Glo. Poor Clarence did forsake his father, 'Warwiclc ; 
 Ay, and forswore hinnself, — v;hich Jesxi pardon ! 
 Q. Mo.r. Which God revenge ! " Richard III., act 1. sc. 3. 
 § two] Some copies of the 4to. of 1612, "ten;" the 4to. 
 of 1631, "the." 
 
 Vit. Cor. I had rather 
 They were not matchless.* 
 
 Brach. Is not this lip mine ? 
 
 Vit. Cor. Yes; thus to bite it off, rather than 
 give it thee. 
 
 Flam. Turn to ray lord, good sister. 
 
 Vit. Cor. Hence, you pander ! 
 
 Flam. Pander ! am I the author of your sin ? 
 
 Vit. Cor. Yes; he's a base tliief that a thief 
 lets in. 
 
 Flam. We're blown up, my lord. 
 
 Brach. Wilt thou hear me? 
 Once to be jealous of thee, is to express 
 That I will love thee everlastingly, 
 And never more be jealous. 
 
 Vit. Cor. thou fool. 
 Whose greatness hath by much o'ergrown thy wit ! 
 What darst thou do that I not dare to suffer, 
 Excepting to be still thy whore ? for that. 
 In the sea's bottom sooner thou shalt make 
 A bonfire. 
 
 Flam. 0, no oaths, for God's sake ! 
 
 Brach. Will you hear me ? 
 
 Vit. Cor. Never. 
 
 Flam. What a damn'd imposthume is a woman's 
 will ! \ 
 
 Can nothing break it ? — Fie, fie, my lord, ^ j^ 
 ^yomen are caught as you take tortoises ; 
 She must be turn'd on her back. — Sister, by this 
 
 hand, 
 I am on your side. — Come, come, you have wrong'd 
 
 her: 
 What a strange credulous man were you, my lord. 
 To think the Duke of Florence would f love her! 
 Will any mercer take another's ware 
 When once 'tis tous'd and sullied? — And yet, sister. 
 How scurvily this frowardness becomes you ! 
 Young leverets stand not long ; and women's auger 
 Should, like their fight, procure a little sport ; 
 A full cry for a quarter of an hour, 
 And then be put to the dead quat.J 
 
 Brach. Shall these eyes. 
 Which have so long time dwelt upon your face. 
 Be now put out ? 
 
 Flam. No crael landlady i'the world. 
 Which lends forth groats to broom-men, and takes 
 
 use for them, 
 Would do't.— 
 
 Hand her, my lord, and kiss her : be not like 
 A ferret, to let go your hold with blowing. 
 
 Brach. Let us renew right hands. 
 
 * matchless] The 4to. of 1612, "matches." 
 
 t wovM] Some copies of the 4to. of 1612, "could." 
 
 J quat] A coiTupt form of squat, — the sitting of a hare. 
 
32 
 
 THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 Vtt. Cor. Hence ! 
 
 Brack. Never shall rage or the forgetful wine 
 Make me commit like fault. 
 
 Flam. Now you are i'tbe way on't, foUow't bard. 
 
 Brack. Be thou at peace with me, let all the 
 world 
 Threaten the cannon. 
 1 Flam. Mark his penitence : 
 Best natures do commit the grossest faults, 
 "^hen they're given o'er to jealousy, as best wine, 
 Dj'ing, makes strongest vinegar. I'll tell you, — 
 The sea's more rouRb and raging than calm riven', 
 But not 80 sweet nor wholesome. A quiet woman 
 Is a still water under a great bridge ;* 
 A man may shoot t her safely. 
 
 Vit. Cor. O ye dissembling men ! — 
 
 Flam. We suck'd that, sister, 
 From women's breasts, in our first infancy. 
 
 Vit. Cor. To add misery to misery ! 
 
 Brack. Sweetest, — 
 
 Vit. Cor. Am I not low enough ? 
 Ay, ay, your good heart gathers like a snow-ball, 
 Now your affection's cold. 
 
 Flam. Ud'sfoot, it shall melt 
 To a heart again, or all the wine in Rome 
 Shall run o'the lees for't. 
 
 Vit. Cor. Yourdogor hawk should be rewarded 
 better 
 Than I have been. I'll speak not one word more. 
 
 Flam. Stop her mouth with a sweet kiss, my 
 lord. So, 
 Now the tide's turn'd, the vessel's come about. 
 He's a Bweet armful. 0, we curl'd-hair'd men 
 Are still most kind to women ! This h well. 
 
 Brack. Tiiat you bhould chide thus ! 
 
 Ham. 0, sir, your little chimneys 
 Do ever cast most smoke ! I sweat for you. 
 Couple together with as deep a silence 
 As did the Grecians in their wooden horse. 
 My lord, supply your promises with deeds ; 
 You know that painted meat no hunger feeds. 
 
 Brack. Stay, iugrateful Homo — X 
 
 * Iia itill vater umlrr a great briilgt\ '' ' Is lUct a still 
 water under hmJon briJ(;e ' wa« the roodliif; until now 
 [In tho odllloMH (,f IxWdlcy'ii Old PIni/i, 1744 nnd 1780) : 
 how or wliy tho word londnn wiui foiHtcd in. It Ih not 
 «a«y to Koctw, lut both tlio old eojiics give tlio luuuinga an 
 It i* now |iriiitod." CoLLiKii. 
 
 DodMlry luid llce<l found tho ronilinff, which Mr. Collier 
 rltflitly n jcoliid, In tho 4to« of Ififl.'j nnd 1072. 
 
 t tlioi>t\ " To >/iu(f( tilt tiriilfir wiut Ik term luod by wntur- 
 men. U> nlk'nlfy K"iiiK' tljrouKli l.ondi.nbridffo ut tho 
 turning of tlio llilo. Tho vcnaul thou wont with grout 
 voliK'lly, and from thence it (iroUibly wna called ihool- 
 inp." Rcrb. 
 
 t May. in(fraif/ul /{umt-l yy. "HUy in inaratofijl 
 Rome I " T 
 
 \Mam. 
 
 jR>x our 
 
 \m. Rome ! it deserves to be call'd B.ir .: y 
 villanouB tisage. 
 Brack. Soft ! the same project which the Duke 
 
 of Florence 
 O^Tiether in love or guUery I know not) 
 Laid down for her escape, will I pursue. 
 
 Flam. And no time fitter than this night, my 
 
 lord : 
 The Pope being dead, and all tho cardinal :^ 
 
 enter'd 
 The conclave for the electing a new Pope ; 
 The city in a great confusion ; 
 We may attire her in a page's suit, 
 Lay her post-horse, take shipping, and amain 
 For Padua. 
 
 Brack. I'll • instantly steal forth tho Prince 
 
 Giovanni, 
 And make for Padua. You two with your old 
 
 mother, 
 And young Marcello that attends on Florence, 
 If you can work him to it, follow me : 
 I will advance you all : — for you, Vittoria, 
 Tiiink of a duchess' title. 
 
 Flam. Lo you, sister ! — 
 Stay, my lord ; I'll tell you a ii\\e. The crocodile, 
 ■which lives in the river Nilus, hath a worm breeds 
 i'tho teeth oft, which puts it to extreme anguish : 
 a little bird, no bigger than a wren, is barber- 
 surgeon to this crocodile ; flies into the jaws oft, 
 picks out the worm, and brings present remedy. 
 The fish, glad of ease, but ingrateful to her that 
 did it, that the bird may not tidk largely of her 
 abroad for non-payment, closeth her chaps, intend- 
 ing to swallow her, and so put her to perpetual 
 silence. But nature, loathing such ingratitude, 
 hath armed this bird with a quill or prick on the 
 head, top o'the which wounds the crocodile i'the 
 mouth, forceth her open her bloody prison, and 
 away flies the pretty tooth-picker from her cruel 
 patient.t ^ 
 
 Brack. Your application is, I have not rewai-dod 
 The service you have done me. 
 
 Flam. No, my lord. 
 
 You, sister, iuhj the crocodile : you are bleiuij^hed 
 in your fame, my lord curi's it ; and thoujjh tho 
 comparison hold not in every particle, yot observe, 
 romombor what good tho bird witb tho prick i'tho 
 head bath done you, and ■corn ingratitude. — 
 
 • /'//| Omitted in tho 4fo. of J(l31. 
 
 4 Thia tnio i« an nltonUion of n fnblo told origlnttlly by 
 lIoro<lAt\iii. hb. II. o. «S, that a Mr.1, called tr.Tchilui«, 
 ehtoi-* tho thnutt of tho criK-mlilo, nnd extrortu tho 
 locrhfK Hint i^thcr there (or, m^-ording to itonto ancirnt 
 writcra. i>lok« |>»rllcloii of llonh fr»>n> Ita tocth); and tliat 
 Iho grntoful crocodile duca tho bird no litjury. 
 
THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 33 
 
 It may appear to some ridiculous [Aside. 
 
 Thus to talk knave and madman, and sometimes 
 Come in with a dried sentence, stuft with sage : 
 But this allows my varyinoj of shapes ; 
 Knaves do grow great by being great men's apes. 
 .■C -'f"\ ' \_Exeunt. 
 
 Mnter Francisco de Medicis,* Lodovico, Gasparo, and 
 six Ambassadors. 
 
 Fran, de Med. So, my lord, I commend your 
 diligence. 
 Guard well the conclave ; and, as the order is, 
 Let none have conference with the cardinals. 
 Lod. I shall, my lord. — Room for the ambas- 
 sadors ! 
 Gasp. They're wondrous brave t to-day : why 
 do they wear 
 These several habits ■? 
 
 Lod. 0, sir, they are knights 
 Of several orders : 
 That lord i'the black cloak, with the silver 
 
 cross, 
 Is Knight of Rhodes; J the next, Knight of St. 
 
 Michael ; § 
 That, of the Golden Fleece; || the Frenchman, 
 
 there, 
 Knight of the Holy Ghost; U my lord of Savoy, 
 Knight of the Annunciation;** the Englishman 
 Is Knight of the honour'd Garter, ft dedicated 
 
 * Enter Francisco de Medicis, &c.] Scene. The Same. 
 Before the buildiug in which the cardinals are assembled 
 for the election of a Pope : from what presently follows 
 in our text it would seem tliat the conclave is held in a 
 church. (The Vatican, I believe, is the usual place of 
 conclave.) 
 
 brave] "i.e. fine." Reed. 
 
 t That lord i'ihe blade cloak, with the silver cross. 
 Is Knight of Rhodes'] "A Knight of Rhodes was 
 formerly called a Knight of St. John Jerusalem, and now 
 a Knight of Malta. The Order was instituted some time 
 before the conquest of Jerusalem by the Christians in 
 1099. Segar says, that 'a governor, called Gerardus. 
 commanded that he and all others of that house should 
 wear a white cross njwn a blacke garment, which was the 
 origiuall of the Order, and ever since hath been used.' — 
 Honor Military and Civill, fol. I(i02, p. 97." Reed. 
 
 § Knight of St. Michael] " This Order was erected in 
 1469, by Lewis XI. King of France. See Segar on Honor, 
 p. S3." Reed. 
 
 II That, of the Golden JFleece'] "Instituted by Philip the 
 Good, Duke of Burgundy and Earl of Flanders, in 1429. 
 See Sigar, p. 79." Reed. 
 
 t Knight of the Holy Ghost] "Instituted by Henry III. 
 King of France and Poland, in the year 1579. See Segar, 
 p. 87." Reed. 
 
 * * Knight of the Annunciation] " An Order begun by 
 Amedes Count of Savoy, surnamed II V^erde, in memory 
 of Amedes the fi?-st Earl, who, having valorously de- 
 fended the Isle of Rhodes, did win tliose arms now borne 
 by the Dukes of Savoy. See Segar, p. S'\" Reed. 
 
 + t Knight of the honour'd Garter] "Founded by King 
 Edward III." Reed. 
 
 Unto their saint, St, George. I could describe to 
 
 you 
 Their several institutions, with the laws 
 Annexed to their orders ; but that time 
 Permits not such discovery. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Where's Count Lodowick ? 
 
 Lod. Here, my lord. 
 
 Fran, de Med. 'Tis o'the point of dinner time : 
 Marshal the cardinals' service. 
 
 Lud. Sir, I shall. 
 
 Enter Servants, with several dishes covered. 
 Stand, let me search your dish : who's this for? 
 
 Servant. For my lord cardinal Mouticelso. 
 
 Lod. Whose this? 
 
 Servant. For my lord cardinal of Bourbon. 
 
 Fr. Amb. Why doth he search the dishes? to 
 observe 
 What meat is drestl 
 
 Fng. Amb. No, sir, but to prevent 
 Lest any letters should be convey'd in. 
 To bribe or to solicit the advancement 
 Of any cardinal. When first they enter, 
 'Tis lawful for the ambassadors of princes 
 To enter with them, and to make their suit 
 For any man their prince affecteth best ; 
 But after, till a general election. 
 No man may speak with them. 
 
 Lod. You that attend on the lord cardinals. 
 Open the window, and receive their viands ! 
 
 A Cardinal [at the window]. You must return 
 the service : the lord cardinals 
 Are busied 'bout electing of the Pope ; 
 They have given over scrutiny, and are fall'n 
 To admiration. 
 
 Lod. Away, away ! 
 
 Fran, de Med. I'll lay a thousand ducats you 
 hear news 
 Of a Pope presently. Hark ! sure, he's elected : 
 Behold, my lord of Arragon appears 
 On the chui'ch-battlemeuts. 
 
 Arragon [on the church battlements]. Denunlio 
 vobis*ffaudium magnum. Reverendissimus cardi- 
 nalis Lorenzo de Monticelso electus est in sedem 
 apostolicam, et elegit sibi nomen Paulum Quartum. 
 
 * Denuntio vohis, &c.] All the 4tos. except that of 
 1612, " Annuntio." — This was nearly the form in which 
 the election of a pope was declared to the people. See 
 Roscoe's Life of Lto the Tenth, vol. ii. p. 106. ed. 1S05. 
 Cartwright, perhaps, meant to parody this passage of 
 Webster, when he wrote the following; 
 "Moth. Denuncio vobis gaudium magnum, 
 
 Robertus de Tinea electus est in sedem Hospita- 
 
 lem ; 
 Et assumit sibi nomen Galfridi." 
 
 The Ordinary, Act 5. Sc. 4. (Works, 1G51.) 
 
34 
 
 THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 J' 
 
 Omnea. Vivat tancttu pater Paxdiu QiuaiiLsj* 
 
 Enter Scn-ant. 
 Servant. Vittoria, my lord, — 
 Fran, de Med. Well, wliat of ber ? 
 Servant. Is fled the city, — 
 Fran, de Med. Ha ! 
 Servant. "Witli Duko F.racliiano. 
 Fran, de Med. Fled ! Where's the Princo Gio- 
 vanni ? 
 Servant. Gone with his father. 
 Fran, de Med. Let the matrona of the con- 
 vcrtitea 
 Bo apprehended. — Fled ! 0, damnable ! 
 
 [Exit Servant. 
 
 How fortunate are my wishes ! why, 'twas this 
 
 I only labour'd : I did send the letter 
 
 To instruct him what to do. Thy fame, fondt 
 
 duke, 
 I first have poison'd ; directed thee the way 
 To marry a whore : what can be wor.se ? This 
 
 follows, — 
 The hand must act to drown the passionate 
 
 tongue : 
 I scorn to wear a sword and prate of wrong. 
 Enter Monticelso in ftate. 
 Mont. Concedimtcs vohis apostolicam benedic- 
 tionem el remissionem pcccatorum.t 
 My lord reports Vittoria Coronibona 
 I.s stol'n from forth the house of convertites 
 By Brachiano, and they're fled the city. 
 Now, Jhough this be the first day of our Btate,§ 
 We cannot better please the divine power ^ 
 Than to sequester from the holy church - 
 Tliese cur.s6d persona. Make it therefore known, 
 We do denounce cxcominunicalidn " 
 Against them both : all that are Theirs in Rome 
 We likewise banisb. Set on. 
 
 \Exetinl MoNTIOKLSo, }iU train, Ambnssndors, <f-c. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Come, dear Lodovico ; 
 You have ta'en the sacrament to prosecute 
 The intended murder. 
 
 Lod. With all constancy. 
 But, sir, I wonder you'll engage yourself 
 In person, being n great princo. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Divert mo not. 
 Most of lii« court nro of my faction, 
 
 • Pauliti QaarlaM\ Qy. did WtbHtor, In miikhnf Moiitl- 
 coUo I'o|)o I'lml IV.. follow tho work IVom whlcli >io to<ik 
 the plot of thU |iliiy 1 Tlio iHjmon wlm wrm roully mlaod 
 Ui llint dlffiiily wiw Joliii I'otor CurullU. 
 
 t /ond] 1.0. Hlinplo, fixillMli. 
 
 I In Huina cu|ilo» of tlio 4l(). of I(ll'> thin bonodtoUon is 
 not tflvun. 
 
 I ttute\ Homo co|ilo« of tlio Jto. of lOl'J, and tlio 4to. of 
 1031, "f^t." 
 
 And 8omo are of my council. Noble friend. 
 Our danger shall be like in this design : 
 Give leave, part of the glory may be mine. 
 
 [Exeunt Fba?;. de Med. and Gaspabo. 
 
 Re enter Monticelso. 
 
 Mont. Why did the Duke of Florence with 
 such care 
 Labour your pardon ? say.* 
 
 Lod. Italian beggars will resolve you that, 
 Who, begging of an alms, bid those they beg of. 
 Do good for their own sakes ; or it may be. 
 He spreads his bounty with a sowing hand. 
 Like kings, who many times give out of measure, 
 Not for desert so much, as for their pleasure. 
 
 Mont. I know you're cunning. Come, what 
 devil was that 
 That you were raising ? 
 
 Lod. Devil, my lord ! 
 
 Mont. I ask you t 
 How doth the duke employ you, that his bonnet 
 Fell with such compliment \mto his knee, 
 When he departed from you 1 
 
 Lod. ^^'hy, my lord, 
 He told me of a resty Barbary boreo 
 Which he would fain have brought to the career. 
 The salt,* and the riug-galliard : now, my lord, 
 I have a rare French rider. § 
 
 Mont. Take you heed 
 Lest the jade break your neck. Po you put me olT 
 With your wild horse-tricks ? Sirrah, you do lie. 
 0, thou'rt a foul black cloud, and thou dost threat 
 A violent storm ! 
 
 Lod. Storms are i'the air, my lord : 
 I am too low to storm. 
 
 Mont. A\' retched creature ! 
 I know that thou art fashion'd for all ill, 
 Like dogs that once get blood, they'll ever kill. 
 About some minder ? waa't noti 
 
 Lwl. I'll not toll you : 
 And yet I care not greatly if I do ; 
 Marry, with this preparntiou. Holy father. 
 
 • IfAy did the IHUx qf Flortnet icUM tuck cart 
 
 Labour your parximt f >ay\ In aonie copies of tho 4to. 
 of liil'J this fornm i>art of Francisco's «|m>ooIi, but in other 
 copies of that edition, and in tho 'Ito. of liMl, it Is rightly 
 given to Moiitiuolso. 
 
 t / a$k you] Tho two oldest 4toa. give this to LodoWoo, 
 but tho \\.v>*. of ir><U and 1(JT3 asalgit It to Moutieolso, to 
 whom it ohvioviHly U-longs. 
 
 t Tht «.i/<) The old odn. have "Tlio '«<iu.'f," 4e. : but n 
 particular kind of leaplni; or boun>ling is meant. "If 
 then you tUide in him [your horto] a natui-all inclination 
 of liti'htiu-Nko, and a spirit both itpt to approhcnd lUid 
 oxoouto any &im/< aUivo Krouud," itc, Markhatn's 
 tSivnUxnet, Ac, p. 'J.'H, cd. IiUT. 
 
 I Frrneh rii/rr) When thi.t play was written, tho Froncli 
 oxoellod nuwt nations in borncnmnslilp. 
 
r^i^'^y.. 
 
 '^iy^^j^r- 1~^^( j 
 
 L^^,.^%^ 
 
 /r 
 
 THE ^VHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBOJNA. 
 
 35 
 
 I come not to you as an intelligencer, 
 Bat' as a penitent sinner : what I utter 
 Is in confession merely ; which you know 
 Must never be reveal'd. 
 
 Mont. You have o'erta'en me. 
 [Loci. Sir, I did love Brachiano's duchess dearly, 
 dFrather I pursu'd her with hot lust, 
 Though she ne'er knew on't. She was poison'd ; 
 Upon my soul, she was : for which I have sworn 
 To avenge her murder. 
 
 Mont. To the Duke of Floi-ence ? 
 
 Lod. To him I have. 
 
 Mont. Miserable creature ! 
 If thou persist in this, 'tis damnable. 
 Dost thou imagine thou canst slide on blood, 
 And not be tainted with a shameful fall i 
 Or, like the black and melancholic yew-tree, 
 Dost think to root thyself in dead men's graves, 
 And yet to pi-osper? Instruction to thee 
 Comes like sweet showers to o ver-harden'd ground ; 
 They wet, but pierce not deep. And so I leave 
 
 thee, 
 With all the Furies hanging 'bout thy neck. 
 Till by thy penitence thou remove this evil, 
 In conjuring from thy breast that cruel devil. 
 
 lExii. 
 
 Lod. I'll give it o'er ; he says 'tis damnable : 
 Besides I did expect his suffrage, 
 By reason of Camillo's death. 
 
 Re-enter Francisco de Medicis with a Servant. 
 Fran, de Med. Do you know that count ? 
 Sei-vant. Yes, my lord. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Bear him these thousand ducats 
 to his lodging ; 
 Tell him the Pope hath sent them. — \_Aside.'] 
 
 Happily 
 That will confirm [him] more than all the rest. \_Exit. 
 Servant. Sir, — 
 Lod. To me, sir? 
 
 Servant. His Holiness hath sent you a thousand 
 crowns, 
 And wills you, if you travel, to make him 
 Your patron for intelligence. 
 
 Lod. His creature ever to be commanded. 
 
 [Exit Servant. 
 Why, now 'tis come about. He rail'd upon me ; 
 And yet these crowns were told out and laid ready 
 Before he knew my voyage. the art, 
 The modest form of greatness ! that do sit, 
 Like brides at wedding-dinners, with their looks 
 
 turn'd 
 From the least wanton jest, their puling stomach 
 Sick of the modesty, when their thoughts are loose. 
 Even acting of those hot and lustful sports 
 
 Are to ensue about midnight : such his cunning : 
 He sounds my depth thus with a golden plummet. 
 I am doubly arm'd now. Now to the act of blood. 
 There's b ut three Furies found, is spacious, liellj^ \ 
 But in a great man's breast three thousand dwell. 
 
 [Exit. 
 A passage over the Hcg'e of Brachiaxo, Flamineo, Mar- 
 cello, HORTENSIO, VlTTORIA COROMBONA, CORNELIA, 
 
 Zanche, and others .; exeunt omnes except Flamineo 
 anO. HoRTENsio.* 
 
 Flam. In all the weary minutes of my life, 
 Day ne'er broke up till now. This jnarriage 
 Confirms me happy. 
 
 Hort. 'Tis a good assurance. 
 Saw you not yet the Moor that's come to court? 
 
 Flam. Yes, and conferr'd with him i'the duke's 
 closet : 
 I have not seen a goodlier personage. 
 Nor ever talk'd with man better experienc'd 
 In state affairs or rudiments of war : 
 He hath, by report, serv'd the Venetian 
 In Candy these twice seven years, and been chief 
 In many a bold design. 
 
 Hort. What ai-e those two 
 That bear him company ? 
 
 Flam. Two noblemen of Hungary, that, living 
 in the emperor's service as commanders, eight 
 years since, contrary to the expectation of all the 
 court, entered into religion, into the strict order 
 of Capuchins : but, being not well settled in their 
 undertaking, they left their order, and returned 
 to court ; for which, being after troubled in con- 
 science, they vowed their service against the 
 enemies of Christ, went to Malta, were there 
 knighted, and in their return back, at this great 
 solemnity, they ai'e resolved for ever to forsake 
 the world, and settle themselves here in a house 
 of Capuchins in Padua. 
 
 Hort. 'Tis strange. 
 
 Flam. One thing makes it so : they have vowed 
 for ever to wear, next their bare bodies, those 
 coats of mail they served in. 
 
 Hort. Hard penance ! la the Moor a Christian ? 
 
 Flam. He is. 
 
 Hort. Why proffei's he his service to our duke ? 
 
 Flam. Because he understands there's like to 
 grow 
 Some warst between us and the Duke of Florence, 
 In which he hopes employment. 
 I never saw one in a stern bold look 
 Wear more command, nor in a lofty phrase 
 Express more knowing or more deep contempt 
 
 * except Flamineo and Hortensio] Scene. Padiia. An 
 apartment of a palace. 
 
 t wars'] Tlie4to. of 1631, "war." 
 
 D 2 
 
l1\ ( ^.■D 
 
 36 
 
 THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 Of our slight airy courtiers. He talkfl 
 As if he had travell'd all the princes' courts 
 Of Christendom : iu all things strives to express, 
 i-^'hat all that should dbputo with him may know, 
 Glories, like glow-worms,* afar off shine brijjht, 
 But look'd to near, have neither heat nor light. — 
 The duke ! 
 
 Jl<-fn/<r BBAriliAK'i; icrn Kimm is o di: MEDICls<fij<7Ui*«f 
 
 liie MU1.INA>8A11, lX)DOVlCi>, ASTOVELLI, GaSI'ARO, 
 
 Farmuk, Carlo, ami Pedro, t Ixaring tluir ncordt 
 and Mrnrlt : and MaRCELLO. 
 
 Brack. You are nobly welcome. We have heard 
 at full 
 Your honoui-able service 'gainst the Turk. 
 To you, brave Mulinassar, we assign 
 A competent pension : and arc inly sorry, 
 The vows of those two worthy gentlemen 
 Make them incapable of our proffer'd bounty. 
 Your wish is, you may leave your warlike swords 
 For monuments in oui- chapel : I accept it 
 As a great honour done me, and must crave 
 Your leave to furnish out our duchess' revels. 
 Only one thing, as the last vanity 
 You e'er shidl view, deny mc not to stay 
 To see a barriers prepar'd to-night : 
 You shall have private standings. It hath pleas'd 
 The great ambassadors of several princes, 
 In their return from Rome to their own countries, 
 To grace our marriage, and to honour me 
 With such a kind of sport. 
 
 Fran, de Med. I shall persuade them 
 To stay, my lord. 
 
 Brack. Set on there to the presence ! 4^ 
 
 [^Exeunt Braciiiano, Flamineo, Marcello, and 
 
 IIOhTENSIO. 
 
 Car. Noblo my lord, moat fortunately welcome: 
 {The Cuiiai)iriiturB here anbract. 
 You have our vows, seal'd with the sacrament, 
 To Focond your attempts. 
 
 Ptd. And all things ready : 
 He could not have invented his own miii 
 (Ha<l ho despair'd) with more propriety. § 
 
 Lod, You would not take my way. 
 
 Fran, dt Mtd. 'Tia better order d. 
 
 • Oloritt, like glow-wontu, Ho] Thi« flnu itiiiillo occum 
 ■gitlii vorl)iilliii ill Iho Durhtttnf Malft, A. 4. H. i. 
 
 f t'uWo anil /V/ni] In botli tho ouillcHt 4toii. "Car." 
 »ud " J'tU." iiro ptxillxod to tUo ron|>«otlvo Hi>oochuii of 
 tlioM |H)ni<ma«oii hi tliU nooiio, thoutfli tholr ontniuco U 
 not nmrkoU ; aivl lliolr iiiitnu* aro f miij at full Icnjfth 
 oflorwurU lit »l:i(^ •llrucllim*. Tho 41<m. of Itltlft ttiiii 
 107:^ prolix Ui llio twu it|>oouliaii In t|uo»Uun, '* ZW." auJ 
 "Ooj." 
 
 t 8d on (kert /« Ikt prtttntt] Tlil» ovlJontly bolonff* to 
 nraolilniiu, UnniKli nil llio ilua. glvo It tu Knuiolacu. 
 
 I prufiridul Tlio4Ui«. ufldtfiaud l(I7'J. ••drjIrrUj/." 
 
 Lod. To have poison'd hia prayer-book, or a pair 
 of beads, 
 Tho pummel of his saddle,* his looking-glass, 
 Or the handle of his racket, — 0, that, that! 
 That while he had been bandying at tennis, 
 He might have sworn himself to hell, and strook 
 His soul into the hazard ! 0, my lord, 
 I would have our plot be ingenious. 
 And have it hereafter recorded for example, 
 Ilathcr than bi^rrow example. 
 
 Fraji. de Med. There's no way 
 More speeding than this thought on. 
 
 Lod. 0n,t then. 
 /'T^ran. de Med. And yet methinks that this 
 ( / revenge is poor. 
 Because it steals upon him like a thief. 
 To have ta'en him by the casque in a pitch'd 
 
 field, 
 Led him to Florence ! — 
 
 Lod. It had been rare : and there 
 Have crown'd him with a wreath of stinking garlic, 
 To have shown the sharpness of his goverament 
 And rankness of his lust.+ — Flamineo comes. 
 
 \Exewiit LoDOVico, Antonelli, Gasparo, Farnese, 
 Carlo, and Pedro. 
 
 Jte-enter Flami.veo, Marcello, and Zakche. 
 
 Mar. AMiy doth tliis devil haunt you, say ? 
 
 Flam. I know not ; 
 For, by this light, I do not conjure for her. 
 'Tis not 60 great a cunning as men think, 
 To raise the devil ; for here's one up already : 
 The greatest cunning were to lay him down. 
 
 Mar. She is your shame. 
 
 Flam. I prithee, pardon her. 
 In faith, you see, women are like to burs. 
 Where their aflection throws them, there they'll 
 stick. 
 
 Zan. Tliat is my couutiyman, a goodly pereon : 
 When he's at leisure, I'll discourse witli him 
 In our own language. 
 
 Flam. I beseech you do. [Exit Zanche. 
 
 How is't, brave soldier? 0, that I had seen 
 Some of your iron days ! 1 pray, relate 
 Some of your service to us. 
 
 Fran, de Med. 'Tis a ridiculous thing for a 
 
 ■ Tk4 fttnuMl </ kit muldlf] "Tbia wm one of Ui«i 
 nicthoiU |iul iu pmctica in orvtor to destroy Qiieon 
 KlliUkl>ulh. In tho yoar li08, Mwarvl Suvilro xran con- 
 viotcd of unolntlui; tho ptiinnicl of tho Quocn'a andillo 
 with iMilMon, f.ir wlilch ho \vii» uftcrwitixti* oxvcotod. 
 8«o Ctimdm't h'lisabfth, p. TJti. Kl«. odit. liUlU." Ukku. 
 
 t Oh] Tho4to. ona:il. "WA." 
 
 t Anil ruMkiutg nf kit lutt] After thoao woitla, tho 4to«, 
 of lOOi and liiTl luaert " hut i^niet," not found iu tho two 
 oarlloal 4tua. 
 
K" 
 
 THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, YITTORIA COROMBOInA. 
 
 man to be his own clironicle : I did never wash 
 
 my mouth with mine own praise for fear of 
 getting a stinking breath. 
 
 Mar. You're too stoical. The duke will expect 
 other discourse fi'om you. 
 
 ^ Fran, de Med. I shall never flatter him : I 
 have studied man too much to do that. What 
 difference is between the duke and I? no more 
 than between two bricks, all made of one clay : 
 only't may be one is placed on the top of a 
 turret, the other in the bottom of a well, by mere 
 chance. If I were placed as high as the duke, I 
 Bhovdd stick as fast, make as fair a show, and beai- 
 
 -«ut-^eather equally. 
 
 Flam, [aside] If this soldier had a patent to beg 
 in churches, then he would tell them stories. 
 
 Mar. I have been a soldier too. 
 
 Fran, de Med. How have you thrived ? 
 
 Mar. Faith, poorly. 
 
 Fran, de Med. That's the misery of peace : only 
 outsidcs are then respected. As ships seem very 
 great upon the river, which show very little upon 
 the seas, so some men i'the court seem colossuses 
 in a chamber, who, if they came into the field, 
 would appear pitiful pigmies. 
 
 Flam. Give me a fair room yet hung with aiTas, 
 and some great cardinal to lug me by the ears as 
 his endeared minion. 
 
 Fran, de Med. And thou mayst do the devil 
 knows what villany. 
 
 Flam. And safely. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Right : you shall see in the 
 country, in harvest-time, pigeons, though they 
 destroy never so much corn, the farmer dare not 
 present the fowling-piece to them : why ? because 
 they belong to the lord of the manor; whilst 
 your poor sparrows, that belong to the lord of 
 heaven, they go to the pot for't. 
 
 Flam. I will now give you some politic instruc- 
 tions. The duke says he will give you a* pension : 
 that's but bare promise ; get it under his hand. 
 For I have known men that have come from 
 serving against the Turk, for three or four months 
 they have had pension to buy them new wooden 
 legs and fresh plasters ; but, after, 'twas not to be 
 had. And this miserable courtesy shows as if a 
 ■ tormentor should give hot cordial drinks to one 
 three quarters dead o'the rack, only to fetch the 
 miserable soul again to endure more dogdays. 
 
 [Exit Francisco de MEDicis.f 
 
 * a] Omitted in the 4to. of 1612. 
 
 t The 4tos. do not mark the Exit of Francisco ; but it 
 is necessary to get rid of him, as he enters towards the 
 end of this scene. 
 
 Re-eater Hortensio and Zanche, with a Young Lord 
 and two more. 
 How now, gallants ! what, are they ready for the 
 barriers ] 
 
 Young Lord. Yes ; the lords are putting on 
 their armour. 
 
 Hort. What's he 1 
 
 Flam. A new iip-start; one that swears like a 
 falconer, and will lie in the duke's ear day by day, 
 like a maker of almanacs : and yet I knew him, 
 since he came to the court, smell worse of sweat 
 than an under-tennis-court-keeper. 
 
 Hort. Look you, yonder's your sweet mistress. 
 
 Flam. Thou art my sworn brother : I'll tell 
 thee, I do love that Moor, that witch, very con- 
 strainedly. She knows some of my villany. I 
 do love her just as a man holds a wolf by the 
 ears : but for fear of turning upon me and 
 pulling out my throat, I would let her go to the 
 devil. 
 
 Hort. I hear she claims marriage of thee. 
 
 Flam. Faith, I made to her some such dark 
 promise ; and, in seeking to fly from't, I run on, 
 like a frighted dog with a bottle at's tail, that 
 fain would bite it off, and yet dares not look 
 behind him. — Now, my precious gipsey. 
 
 Zanche. Ay, your love to me rather cools than 
 heats. 
 
 Flam. Marry, I am the sounder lover : we 
 have many wenches about the town heat too 
 fast. 
 
 Hort. What do you think of these perfumed 
 gallants, then 1 
 
 Flam. Their satin cannot save them : I am 
 confident 
 They have a certain spice of the disease ; 
 For they that sleep with dogs shall rise with 
 fleas. 
 
 Zanche. Believe it, a little painting and gay 
 clothes make you love * me. 
 
 Flam. How ! love a lady for painting or gay 
 apparel ? I'll unkennel one example more for 
 thee, ^sop had a foolish dog that let go the 
 flesh to catch the shadow : I would have cour- 
 tiers be better divers. 
 
 Zanche. You remember your oaths 1 
 
 Flam. Lovers' oaths are like mariners' prayers, 
 uttered in extremity ; but when the tempest is 
 o'er, and that the vessel leaves tumbling, they 
 fall from protesting to drinking. And yet, 
 amongst gentlemen, protesting and drinking go 
 together, and agree as well as shoe-makers and 
 Westphalia bacon : they are both drawers on ; 
 
 * love'] The three earliest 4tos. "loath." 
 
38 
 
 THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 for drink draws on protestation, and protestation 
 draws ou more drink. Is not tiiis discourse 
 better now than tlie morality * of your Biiuburnt 
 gentleman ? 
 
 Jit-aittr CORSHUA. 
 
 Cor. Is this your perch, you haggard ? fly to the 
 stews. [Sirikinff Zancue. 
 
 Flam. You should be clapt by the heels now : 
 strike i'tho court ! [Exit CunxELiA.t 
 
 Zanche. She's good for nothing, but to make 
 her maids 
 Catch cold a-nights : they dare not use a bed-stafl" 
 For fear of her light fingers. 
 
 Mar. You're a strumpet, 
 An impudent one. [KicJcing Zanche 
 
 Flam. Why do you kick her, say 1 
 Do you think that she is like a walnut trecl 
 ilust she be cudgell'd ore she bear good fruit ? 
 
 ifar. She brags that you shall marry her. 
 
 Flam. What, then? 
 
 Mar. I had rather she were pitch'd upon a 
 stake 
 In some new-seeded garden, to affright 
 Her follow crows thence. 
 
 Flam. You're a boy, a fool : 
 Be guardian to your hound ; I am of age. 
 
 Mar. If I take her near you, I'll cut her throat. 
 
 Flam. With a fun of feathei-s 1 
 
 Mar. And, for you, I'll whip 
 This folly from you. 
 
 Flam. Are you choleric ? 
 I'll purgc't with rhubarb. 
 
 Jlort. 0, your brother ! 
 
 Flam. Hang him. 
 He wrongs me most that ought to offund me 
 
 least. — 
 I do suspect my mother play'd foul play 
 When she couceiv'd thee. 
 
 Mar. Now, by all niy hopes. 
 Like the two slaughter'd sous of Qidipus, 
 The very llanies of our affection 
 Shall turn two* ways. Those words I'll make 
 
 thee HUMwor 
 With thy hcartrblood. 
 
 * moraiU]/] Tlio thruo oarlloxt 4toit. "tiwrtalUi/." 
 t Tito Kxlt of Coniulln U omitted In tbo Itoii. ; liut 
 tltat rIio la n»l un tlio nLiiku diirhii; tlio doudly <|ttikrrol of 
 Iter •oiiM, In ovIUuiit rr<iiii wliitt nliv iilturwardN siiyH ; 
 " I liuar a wlilii|>orlii){ uU ubuut the court 
 Yuii are to light : vho it your oppotUtf 
 What it Hit nwxml t " 
 \ Uf>\ The 410. ofiaiS, "10." 
 
 " - - — - flaroma 
 
 Hcliidltur III |Kirto«, |/riiiino<|uo Uttciiiiiluu i«ur|{lt, 
 Tliubauua liiiltatu r<i|{i«." Iaioiui, Vhar. I. 650. 
 
 Flam. Do, like the geese in the progress :* 
 You know where you shall find ma 
 
 Mar. Very good. {Exit Flamixeo. 
 
 An thou bc'st a noble friend, bear him my sword. 
 And bid him fit the length on't. 
 Yowxg Lord. Sir, I,shalL 
 
 [ExeuiU VouDg Lord, Marcello, Hobtensio, and 
 tiro more. 
 
 Zanche. He comes. Hence petty thought of 
 my disgrace ! 
 
 Re-enter Fkascisco de Meoicis. 
 I ne'er lov'd my complexion till now, 
 ■» 'Cause I may boldly say, without a blush, 
 vi ^ love you. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Your love is untimely sown ; 
 there's a spring at Michaelmas, but 'tis but a faint 
 one : I am sunk in years, and I have vowed never 
 I to marry. 
 
 I Zanc/ie. Alas ! poor maids get more lovers thjm 
 ! husbands : yet you may mistake my wealth. 
 For, as when ambassadors are sent to congratulate 
 princes, there's commonly sent along with them 
 a rich present, so that, though the prince like not 
 the ambassador's person nor words, yet he likes 
 well of the presentment ; so I may come to you 
 in the same manner, and be better loved for my 
 dowry than my virtue. 
 
 Fran, de Med. I'll think on the motion. 
 Zanclic. Do : I'll now 
 Detain you no longer. At your better leisure 
 I'll tell you things shall stai-tle your blood : 
 Nor blame me that this passion I reveal ; 
 Lovers die inward that their flames conceal. 
 
 [BxU. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Of all intelligence this may 
 prove the best : 
 Sure, I shall draw strange fowl from this foul 
 nest. *^ \\^ [Exit. 
 
 ' A"/i/w MxncELLO t and Cornelia. 
 
 Cor. I heai" a whispering all about the court 
 \You are to fight : who is your opposite 1 
 Wliat is the quarrel 1 
 
 Mar. 'Tis an idle rumour. 
 
 Cor. Will you dissemble .' sure, you do not well 
 To fright mo thus : you never look tlms pale, 
 Hut wlion you are most angry. I do charge you 
 Upon my blessing, — nay, I'll call the duko, 
 And iio shall school you. 
 
 Mar. Publish not a fear 
 Which would convert to laufihtcr: 'tis not BO. 
 Was not this crucifix mv fallur'n ' 
 
 ■ pf^jPTM*] 8oe note, p. 
 
 » Rnirr JiartxHo, tiv\ So 
 thu KAinu. 
 
 Aiiotii!.'! u|i:irliiioiil in 
 
THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROIMBON. 
 
 39 
 
 Cor. Yes. 
 
 Mar. I have heai'd you say, giving my brother 
 suck, 
 /fjHe took the crucifix between his hands, 
 And broke a limb off. 
 
 Cor. Yes ; but 'tis mend^. 
 
 Enter Flajiixeo. 
 
 a, \ Flam. I have brought your weapon back. 
 
 I 1 [Runs Maecello through. 
 
 J Cor. Ha ! my horror ! 
 
 Mar. You have brought it home, indeed. 
 
 Cor. Help ! 0, he's murder'd ! 
 
 Flam. Do you turn your gall up ? I'll to 
 sanctuary, 
 And send a surgeon to you. [Exit. 
 
 Enter Carlo, Hortensio, and Pedro. 
 Hart. How ! o'the ground ! 
 Mar. mother, now remember what I told 
 Of breaking of the crucifix ! Farewell. 
 There ai'e some sins which heaven doth duly 
 
 punish 
 In a whole family. This it is to rise 
 By all dishonest means ! Let all men know, 
 , 'That tree shall long time keep a steady foot 
 "Whose branches spread no wilder* than the root. 
 
 [Dies. 
 Cor. my perpetual sorrow ! 
 
 Hort. Virtuous Mar cello ! 
 He's dead. — Pray, leave him, lady : come, you 
 shall. 
 
 Cor. Alas, he is not dead; he's in a trance. 
 Why, here's nobody shall get any thing by his 
 death. Let me call him again, for God's sake ! 
 
 Car. I would you were deceived. 
 
 Cor. 0, you abuse me, you abuse me, you 
 abuse me ! How many have gone away thus, for 
 lack of tendance ! Rear up's head, rear up's 
 head : his bleeding inward will kill him. 
 
 Hort. You see he is departed. 
 
 Cor. Let me come to him ; give me him as he 
 is : if he be turned to earth, let me but give him 
 one heai-ty kiss, and you shall put us both into 
 one coffin. Fetch a looking-glass ;+ see if his 
 breath will not stain it : or pull out some feathers 
 from my pillow, and lay them to his lips. WUl 
 you lose him for a Little pains-taking ? 
 
 * ■wilder'] Tlie4to. of 1672, "wider." 
 t Fetch a looking-glass, &c.] "So Shakespeare in King 
 Lear, A. 5. S. 3 : 
 
 ' Lend me a looking-gloss; 
 If that her breath will rnist or stain the stone, 
 
 Why, then she lives 
 
 Tliis /father stirs ; she lives ! if it be so. 
 
 It is a chance which does redeem aU sorrows 
 
 That ever I have felt.' " Reed. 
 
 Hoi-t. Your kindest office is to pray for him. 
 
 Cor. Alas, I would not pray for him yet. He 
 may live to lay me i'the gi-oimd, and pray for me, 
 if you'll let me come to him. 
 
 Enter Brachiano all armed, save the heaver, with 
 Flamineo, Francisco de Medicis, Lodovico, and 
 Page. 
 
 Brack. Was this your handiwork 1 
 
 Flam. It was my misfortune. 
 
 Cor. He lies, he lies ; he did not kill him : these 
 have killed him that woidd not let him be better 
 looked to. 
 
 Brack. Have comfort, my griev'd mother. 
 
 Cor. you* screech-owl ! 
 
 Hort. Forbear, good madam. 
 
 Cor. Let me go, let me go. 
 
 [Slie runs to Flamineo tDith her Tcnife drawn, and, 
 coming to him, lets it fall. 
 
 The God of heaven forgive thee ! Dost not 
 
 wonder 
 I pi'ay for thee ? I'll tell thee what's the reason : 
 I have scarce breath to number twenty minutes ; 
 I'd not spend that in cursing. Fare thee well : 
 Half of thyself lies there ; and mayst thou 
 
 live 
 To fill an hour-glass with his mouldei''d ashes, 
 To tell how thou shouldst spend the time to 
 
 come 
 In blest repentance ! 
 
 Brack. Mother, pray tell me 
 How came he by his death ? what was the quan-el 1 
 • Cor. Indeed, my younger boy presum'd too 
 
 much 
 Upon his manhood, gave him bitter words. 
 Drew his sword first ; and so, I know not how, 
 For I was out of my wits, he fell with's head 
 Just in my bosom. 
 
 Page. This is not true, madam. 
 
 Cor. I pray thee, peace. 
 One arrow's graz'd already : it were vain 
 To lose this for that will ne'er be found again. 
 
 Brack. Go, bear the body to Cornelia's lodging : 
 And we command that none acquaint our duchess 
 With this sad accident. For you, Flamineo, 
 Hark you, I wiQ not grant your pardon. 
 
 Flam. No? 
 
 Brack. Only a lease of your life ; and that shall ( 
 last 
 But for one day: thou shaltbeforc'd each evening 
 To renew it, or be hang'd. 
 
 Flam,. At yoxir pleasure. 
 [Lodovico sprinkles Brachiano's heaver with a poison. 
 
 Your will is law now, I'll not meddle with it. 
 * you] The 4tos. of 1665 and 1672, "yon." 
 
 7 
 
40 
 
 THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 Brach. You onco did brave mo in your Bi«t«r*8 
 loiljliDg ; 
 I'll now koop you in nwo furt.— Wherc'a our 
 boavor t 
 Fran. d< Med. [ande.] Ho calls for hia destruc- 
 tion. Noble youth, 
 I pity thy tuA fat* ! Now to the barriers. 
 / "^Thiii i?hall his passatje to the black lake further ; 
 I /Tbe laBt good deed he did, he pardon'd murther. 
 'vX [£i<-iiii/. 
 
 \ [CAary* and ihoyJt. • 77i<y JIffht at barrier$ : t first 
 ixnffit pain, Ihem thrtt to thrtt. 
 
 Enttr Draoiuxo, Vittoria Coromdona. Giovanni, 
 Krakciw.x> iiE Mkuicis, Klamineo, \cithothm. 
 
 lirach. An armorer I ud'a death, an annorer ! 
 Plam, A rniorcr ! whore's the armorer f 
 Brack. Tear off my beaver. 
 Plam. Are you hurt, my lord ? 
 Brack. O, my brain's on fire ! 
 
 Enter Annorur. 
 The helmet is poisou'd. 
 
 Armorer. My lord, upon my soul,— 
 Brack. Away with him to torture ! 
 There are ►ome great ones that have hand in this, 
 And near about me. 
 
 Vit. Cor. O my lov'd lord ! poiHon'd ! 
 Flam, lleuiove the bar. Here's unfortunate 
 revel •» ! 
 Call tbo physiciana. 
 
 Snier Iro Physiciana. 
 
 A plague upon you ! 
 We have too much of your cunning here already : 
 I four the ainbaMhadura are likewiae poison'd. 
 / Brack. O, I am gone already ! the infection 
 Fliea to the brain and heart Otjiflu_fltrong heart ' 
 Thuru'a aucli k covenant 'tween tho world ouT ^, 
 They're loth to break. 
 •Oittv. my moot lov^d father ! 
 Brack. Hemove the boy a way. — 
 Wlirrx'a thijt good Woman \ — Had I infinite worlds, 
 Thoy Wore t<Jo little for thee : must I leave thee ? — 
 What »«y you, Hcrofth-owU, is the venont mortal) 
 F\ril I'hyt MoHt deadly. 
 Brack. Moxi iorrupt«tl |>olitic hangman, 
 Yuu kill without l>ook ; but yuur art to Have 
 Kails you aa ofi as great mou's Doe«ly friends. 
 I titat liave f Ivon life to uflon<ling alavi'^ 
 
 • narfit and i,o. Tho lUU nt I'mliia. 
 
 J «*rri«r,| •• I .), „f n„ |.,ri„l, «„rx« 
 
 t*rm, and •ImhI'uIIi widi <i« tliat whlrh l> i 
 
 eail Jt» tit Itnrtt4 > inaHltl ■{^••( or r < :i 
 
 wlllilil 
 
 ' I flUUk 
 
 And wretched murderers, have I not power 
 To lengthen mine own a twelve-mouth ? — 
 Do not kiss me, for I shall poison thee. 
 This uncti.'u's sent from the great Duke of 
 Florence. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Sir, be of comfort 
 
 Brack. thou soft natural death, that art* 
 joint-twin 
 To sweetest slumber ! no rough-bearded comet 
 Stares on thy mild departure ; the dull owl 
 Beats not agjiiust thy casement ; the hoarse wolf 
 Scents not thy carrion : pity winds thy corse, 
 Wliilst horror waits on princes. 
 
 Vit. Cur. I am lost for ever. 
 
 BracL How miserable a thing it is to die 
 'Mongst women howling ! 
 
 Enter LoDOVicoand Gaspako, hi tfie habit of Capuchins. 
 V What are those I 
 
 Flam. Franciscans: 
 
 They have brought the extreme imction. 
 
 Brack. On pain of death, let no man name death 
 to me : 
 It is a word infinitely terrible. 
 Withdraw into our cabinet 
 [Kxrunt all excfj^t Fkaxcisco de Mkoicis and FLAmMBO. 
 Flam. To see what solitariness is about dying 
 priuees ! asheretofore they have unpeopled towns, 
 divorced friends, and made great houses unhospi- 
 table, BO now, O justice ! where are their tlatterere 
 now ? Flatterere are but the shadows of princes' 
 bodies ; the least thick cloud makes them invisible. 
 Fniti. de Med. There's great moan made for him. 
 Flam. Faith, for aome few hours salt-water will 
 run most plentifully in every office o'the court : 
 but, believe it, most of them do but weep over 
 their stepmothers' grave8.t 
 
 Fran, dr Med. How mean you 1 
 Flam. Why, they dissemble; as somo men do 
 that live within compass o'the verge. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Come, you have thrived well 
 under him. 
 
 Flam. Faith, like a wolf in a wuman'a breast ;J 
 I have been fed with poultry : but, for money, 
 underctaiid mo, I had as good a will to cozen him 
 na e'er an offuor of them all ; but I had not 
 cunning enough to do it 
 
 Fran. tU Med. What didst thou think of him ! 
 (With, aiteak freely. 
 
 • art] Tho 4to, o( 1(131, ".wv • r,ft.*^* 
 
 f gr>i¥**\ Tlio 4lo. of Irtill, "ffraer." f 
 
 t liht a trt^f <n a •roHtnn'* fcmt«f] " Tho cxtmordinnry 
 onivliiipior wtiiiirixhirliiK tlioir |>rD(;imury worv ancloiitly 
 •couiiiitnl (i>r, l>y *ii|i|>>-iihi|{ auiiio vumuluus aiillual to 
 
THE WHITE DEYIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 41 
 
 
 Flam. He was a kind of statesman that would 
 sooner have reckoned how many cannon-bullets 
 he had discharged against a town, to count his 
 /Texpence that way, than how many of his -valiant 
 j ^nd deserving subjects he lost before it. 
 Fran, de Med. 0, speak well of the duke. 
 Flam. I have done. Wilt hear some of my 
 court-wisdom ? To reprehend princes is danger- 
 ous ; and to over-commend some of them is 
 palpable lying. 
 
 Re-enter Lodovico. 
 
 Fran, de Med. How is it with the duke ? 
 
 Lod. Most deadly ill. 
 He's fall'n into a strange distraction : 
 He talks of battles and monopolies, 
 Levying of taxes ; and from that descends 
 To the most brain-sick language. His mind fastens 
 On twenty several objects, which confound 
 Deep sense with folly. Such a fearful end 
 May teach some men that bear too lofty crest, 
 Though they live happiest, yet they die not best. 
 
 OHe hath conferr'd the whole state of the dukedom 
 Upon your sister, till the prince ai-rive 
 At mature age. 
 
 Flam. There's some good luck in that yet. 
 Fran, de Med. See, here he comes. 
 
 Enter Brachiano, presented in a bed,* Vittoria Corom- 
 BOXA, Gaspako, and Attendants. 
 
 There's death in's face already. 
 Vit. Cor. my good lord ! 
 Brack. Away ! you have abus'd me : 
 
 [Tlieie speeches are several kinds of distractions, and 
 in the action sJiould appear so. f 
 
 You have convey'd coin forth our temtories. 
 Bought and sold offices, oppress'd the poor. 
 And I ne'er dreamt on't. Make up your accounts : 
 111 now be mine own steward. 
 
 Flam. Sir, have patience. 
 
 Brack. Indeed, I am to blame : 
 For did you ever hear the dusky raven 
 Chide blackness ] or was't ever known the devil 
 Hail'd against cloven creatures ] 
 
 Vit. Cor. my lord ! 
 
 Brack. Let me have some quaUs to supper. 
 
 Flam. Sir, you shall. 
 
 Brack. Ko, some fried dog-fish ; your quails 
 feed on poison. 
 That old dog-fox, that politician, Florence ! 
 
 • Snter Brachiano, presented in a bed, &c.] Here the 
 audience were to suppose that a change of scene had 
 taken place, — that the stage now represented Brachiano's 
 chamber : in p. 42 Gasparo says, "For Christian charity, 
 avoid the chamber. " 
 
 t The 4to. of 1G31 omits this stage-direction. 
 
 I'll forswear hunting, and turn dog- killer : I 
 
 Rare ! I'll be friends with him ; for, mark you, ' 
 
 sir, one dog 
 Still sets another a-barking. Peace, peace ! 
 Tender's a fine slave come in now. 
 Flam. Where ? 
 Brack. Why, there. 
 In a blue bonnet, and a pair of breeches 
 With a great cod-piece : ha, ha, ha ! 
 Look you, his cod-piece is stuck full of pins. 
 With pearls o'the head of them. Do not you 
 know him 1 
 Flam. No, my lord. 
 Brack. Why, 'tis the devil ; 
 I know him by a great rose * he wears on's shoe. 
 To hide his cloven foot. I'll dispute with him ; 
 He's a rare linguist. 
 
 Tit. Cor. My lord, here's nothing. 
 Brack. Nothing ! rare ! nothing ! when I want 
 money. 
 Our treasury is empty, there is nothing : 
 I'll not be us'd thus. 
 
 Vit. Cor. 0, lie still, my lord ! 
 Brack. See, see Flamineo, that kill' d his brother, 
 Is dancing on the ropes there, and he carries 
 A money-bag in each hand, to keep him even. 
 For fear of breaking's neck : and there's 
 
 lawyer, 
 In a gown whipt with velvet, stares and gapes 
 "WTien the money will fall. How the rogue cuts j 
 capers ! I 
 
 It should have been in a halter. 'Tis there : 
 what's she 1 
 Flam. Vittoria, my lord. 
 
 Bi-ach. Ha, ha, ha ! her hair is sprinkled with 
 arras-powder, + 
 That makes her look as if she had sinn'd in the 
 
 pastry. — 
 What's he ? 
 
 Flam. A divine, my lord. 
 
 [Brachiano seems here near his end: Lodovico 
 and Gasparo, in the habit o/ Capuchins, pre- 
 sent him in his bed with a crucifix and hal- 
 lowed candle. 
 Brack. He will be drunk ; avoid him : the 
 argument 
 Is fearful, when churchmen stagger in't. 
 
 * 7-o«e] i. e. knot of ribands. 
 
 t arras-powder\ So our author again in the Duchess oj 
 Malt; 
 " When I wax gray. I shall have all the court 
 
 Powder their hair with arras, to be like me. " 
 
 A. III. S. 2. 
 Arras-powder means, we can hardly doubt, orris-powder, 
 —powder made of the root of the orris. (See Halliwell's 
 Diet, of Arch, and Prov. Words, sub Arras.) 
 
^^ i^-^^o^ 
 
 42 
 
 THE WHI'lE DEVIL; Oil, VITTUUIA COROMBONA. 
 
 Look you, six grey raU,* that have lost their tails, 
 Crawl up the pillow : send for a rat-catcher : 
 I'll do a miracle, I'll free the court 
 From all foul vermin. Whcro'8 Flamineo? 
 
 Flam. I do not liko that ho names me so often, 
 Especially en's death-bed : 'tis a sign [AsitU. 
 
 % I shall not livo long. — See, he's near his end. 
 
 Lod. Pray, give us leave. — Attends, domine 
 Jirachiane. 
 
 Flam, See, see how firmly he doth fix his eye 
 Upon the crucifix- 
 
 VU. Cor. O, hold it constant ! 
 It settles his wild spirits ; and so hia eyes 
 Melt into tears. 
 
 Lod. JJominc Brachiane, solebas in bdlo tutus 
 ate tuo clypto; nunc hunc clypcum hosti tuo op- 
 ponas infcrncdi. [By the cruciji.r. 
 
 Gas. Olim hcutd valuUti in hello; nunc hanc 
 
 $acram hattam vibrabis contra lioslem animarum. 
 
 [_B'j the halltnced taper. 
 
 Lod- Attende, domine Brachiane; si nunc quoque 
 probas ea qua acta sunt inter nos, Jtecle caput in 
 dcxtrum. 
 
 Oat. Ktto securus, domine Brachiane; cogitu 
 quantum habeas tnerilorum ; dcnique memineris 
 meain auimam pro tud oppi<jnoratam si quid cssct 
 periculL 
 
 Lod. Si nunc quoque probas ea quce acta sunt 
 inter nos,jlecte caput in lavum. — 
 Ue is departing : ])ray, stand all apart, 
 And let us only whii(|K-r in hia ears 
 Some privat« meditations, which our order 
 Permit« you not to hear. 
 
 [Here, tht nit Uritig departed, Loouvico and Gab- 
 rAiio diseottr theiHMlvei. 
 
 Gat. Urachiiuio, — 
 
 Lod Devil lirachiano, tliou art damn'd. 
 
 Gas. req)«tuftlly. 
 
 Lod. A idavo coudemu'd and given up to the 
 gallows 
 Is thy gr^at lord and mai«tor. 
 
 Gas. Truo ; for thou 
 Art |{ivcn up Uj the doviL 
 
 JLocL O you hlnve ' 
 You that woro held iho famous politician, 
 Whose art wiut puinon | 
 
 Gas. And wlioii* louscionce, munlorl 
 
 IahL That wouhl linvo broko your wife's ueck 
 down the stAira, 
 Kre ulin wa« iHiiaon'd ! 
 
 Gat. That had your vIllanouM h..... i^ 
 
 Lod. And fine ombroi(ler'<l boitlcji and perfumes, 
 Eqiullj lourtol witli a winterplaguol 
 
 • r.W.| Tl.cll-. of 111 11 •■.,./. •• 
 
 Gas. Now there's mercury — 
 
 Lod. And copperas — 
 
 Gas. And quicksilver — 
 
 Lod. With other devilish pothecary * stufi', 
 A-melting in your politic bnuns : dost hear .' 
 
 Gas. This is Count Lodovico. 
 I Lod. This, Gasparo : 
 And thou shalt die like a poor rogue. 
 
 Gas. And stink 
 Like a dead fly-blown dog. 
 
 Lod. And be forgotten 
 Befoie thy funeral sermon. 
 
 Brach. Yittoria ! 
 Yittoria ! 
 
 Lod. 0, the curedd devil 
 Comes t to himself again ! we are undone. 
 
 Gas. Strangle him in private. 
 
 Enter VlTTOKIA CoROMBON'A, FraXCISCO DE ^tlOK'IS, 
 
 Flamineo, and Atteudauts. 
 
 What, will you call him again 
 To live in treble torments ] for charity, 
 For Christian chai-ity, avoid the chamber. 
 
 [Exeunt Vittoria Coromboxa. Francisco ok 
 Medicis, Flami.neo, and Attendimts, 
 
 Lod. You would prate, sir ? This is a true-love- 
 knot 
 Sent from the Duke of Florence. 
 
 [Bracbiano it strangled. 
 Gas. Wliat, is it done ? 
 
 LocL The snuff is out. No woman-keeper i' 
 the world. 
 Though she had practis'd seven year at the pest- 
 house, 
 Could have done't quaintlier. 
 
 JU-enler Vittoria Coromdona, Francisco de MKDias, 
 Flamineo, and Attcudant«. 
 
 My lords, he's dead. 
 
 Omnes. llest to his soul ! 
 
 Yit. Cor. O mo ! this place is hell. [Exit. 
 
 Fran, de Med. How heavily she takes it ! 
 
 Flam. 0, yes, yea ; 
 Had women navigable rivers in their cyns. 
 They would <li8pi>ud them all : surely, I wonder 
 Why we should wish more rivers tt> the city, 
 When tlu-y soil water so good cheap.* I'll ti-ll thoo. 
 Those are but mounish sluulcs of griefs or foara ; 
 There's nothing sooner dry tiian women's tears. 
 Why, licru's an end of all my harvest ; he has 
 given ine nothing. 
 
 • polhitarii] Tlieito. of 1031, "aputJutary." 
 
 ♦ >..,.i,,\ Tli«4to. oflfllS, "row*" 
 
 ; :/■•.< .V./ii/i] Aimwcm to tho Fruiich a to marrAi'.- 
 (hntp !■ Ml uld word for nutrkot 
 
 I 
 
M^ 
 
 THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 43 
 
 Court promises ! let wise men count them curs'd, 
 For wliile you live, he that scores best pays 
 worst. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Sure, this was Florence' doing. 
 
 Flam. Very likely. 
 Those are found weighty strokes which come 
 
 from the hand, 
 But those are killing strokes which come from the 
 
 _^head. „.„_„.— — -i 
 
 Ojj^e-xarfi_tti.c^ of a MachiaYeli9,n ! [ 
 
 He doth not come, like a gross plodding slave. 
 And buffet you to death ; no, my quaint knave, 
 He tickles you to death, makes you die laughing, 
 As if you had swallow'd down a poxmd of saffron. 
 You see the feat, 'tis practis'd m a trice ; 
 To teach court honesty, it jumps on ice. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Now have the people liberty to 
 talk. 
 And descant on his vices. 
 
 Flam. Misery of princes, 
 That must of force be censur'd by their slaves ! 
 Not only blam'd for doing things are ill, 
 But for not doing all that all men \^ill : 
 One were better be a thresher. 
 Ud's death, I would fain speak with this duke yet. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Now he's dead ? 
 
 Flam. I cannot conjure; but if prayers or oaths 
 "Will get to the speech of him, though forty devils 
 Wait on him in his liveiy of flames, 
 I'll speak to him, and shake him by the hand. 
 Though I be blasted, [Exit. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Excellent Lodovico ! 
 What, did you terrify him at the last gasp 1 
 
 Lod. Yes, and so idly, that the duke had like 
 To have terrified us. 
 
 Fran, de Med. How ? 
 
 Lod. You shall hear that hereafter. 
 
 Enter Zanche. 
 
 See, yen's the infernal that would make up sport. 
 
 Now to the revelation of that secret 
 
 She promis'd when she fell in love with you. 
 
 Fran, de Med. You're passionately met in this 
 sad world. 
 
 Zanche. I would have you look up, sir ; these 
 court-tears 
 Claim not your tribute to them : let those weep 
 That guiltily partake in the sad cause. 
 I knew last night, by a sad di-eam I had. 
 Some mischief would ensue; yet, to say truth, 
 My dream most concern'd you. 
 
 Lod. Shall's fall a-dreaming? 
 
 Fran, de Med. Yes ; and for fashion sake I'll 
 dream with her. 
 
 Zanche. Methought, sir, you came stealing to 
 my bed. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Wilt thou believe me, sweetino-] 
 by this light, 
 I was a-dreamt on thee too ; for methought 
 I saw thee naked. 
 
 Zanche. Fie, sir ! As I told you, 
 Methought you lay down by me. 
 
 Fran, de Med. So dreamt I ; 
 And lest thoix shouldst take cold, I cover'd thee 
 With this Irish mantle. 
 
 Zanche. Verily, I did dream 
 You were somewhat bold with me : but to come 
 to't— 
 
 Lod. How, how ! I hope you will not go to't* 
 hei-e. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Nay, you must hear my dream 
 out. 
 
 Zanche. Well, sir, forth. 
 
 Fran, de Med. When I threw the mantle o'er 
 thee, thou didst laugh 
 Exceedingly, methought. 
 
 Zanche. Laugh ! 
 
 Fran, de Med. And cried'st out. 
 The hair did tickle thee. 
 
 Zanche. There was a dream indeed ! 
 
 Lod. Mark her, I prithee ; she simpers like the 
 suds 
 A collier hath been wash'd in. 
 
 Zanche. Come, sir, good fortune tends you. I 
 did tell you 
 I would reveal a secret : Isabella, 
 The Duke of Florence' sister, was impoison'd 
 By a fum'd picture ; and Camillo's neck 
 Was broke by damn'd Flamineo, the mischance 
 Laid on a vaulting-horse. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Most strange ! 
 
 Zanche. Most true. 
 
 Lod. The bed of snakes is broke. 
 
 Zanche. I sadly do confess I had a hand 
 In the black dee'd. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Thou kept'st their counsel 1 
 
 Zanche. Right ; 
 For which, urg'd with contrition, I intend 
 This night to rob Vittoria. 
 
 Lod. Excellent penitence ! 
 Usurers dream on't while they sleep out sermons. 
 
 Zanche. To further our escape, I have entreated 
 Leave to retire me, till the funeral. 
 Unto a friend i'the country : that excuse 
 Will further our escape. In coin and jewels 
 I shall at least make good unto your use 
 An hundred thousand crowns. 
 
 * to't] Some copies of the 4to. of 1G1"2, '' to it." 
 
44 
 
 THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROilBONA. 
 
 From, dt Med. O noble wencL ' 
 
 Lod, Thcmt crowtu we'll share. 
 
 Zancke. It is k dowry, 
 Mcthink*. should make that sun-burnt proverb 
 
 falw>. 
 And wash the ^Ethiop whit*. 
 
 Fran, dc Mtd. It hhall. Away I 
 
 Zancht. Bo ready for our flight. 
 
 Fran, de Med. An hour 'fore day. 
 
 [Rrit ZxJicHE. 
 
 O f' .cry ! why, till now we knew not 
 
 Th»- ce of either of their deaths. 
 
 JU-mtrr ZaKCHE. 
 Zanche. You'll wait about midnight in the 
 chapel J 
 
 Fr<tn. df Mtd. There, [Exit Zanche. 
 
 Jjod. Wliy, now our action's justified. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Tush for justice ! 
 What barms it justice? we now, like the partridge, 
 Purge the disease with laurel ;* for the fame 
 Shall crown the enterprizc, and (juit the shame. 
 ^ 'y V {Extunt. 
 
 ^ BfdfT Flamixk) ♦ o«</ O A SPARC, at ontdoor; another 
 tray, G lev a SSI, attrniltd. 
 
 Gat. The yoifng duke: did you o'er see a 
 sweeter prince ? 
 
 Flam. I have known a poor woman's bastard 
 better favoured : this is b«hind him ; now, to his 
 bee, all compari«ous were hateful. Wise was the 
 •courtly p^-acock that, being a great minion, and 
 being compared for beauty by some dottrels that 
 stood by to the kingly cagl**, said the eagle was a 
 for fairer bird than herself, not in respect of her 
 fMthem, but in respect of her long talons: J his 
 will grow out in time.— My gracious lord ! 
 
 Gio. I l>rny, leave me, sir. 
 
 F(am. Your grace must bo merry : 'tis I have 
 cauMi to mourn; for, wot y«u, wiiat saiil the little 
 boy that rode behind his father on hursebuck 1 
 
 (Tie. Why, what said be 1 
 
 gneculi. 
 
 tl] "Bo Pliny, ' r>luni)<«'*, 
 
 'ittUltHIH 
 
 Flam. " When you are dead, father," said he, 
 " I hope that I shall ride in the saddle." 0, 'tis a 
 bravo thing for a man to sit by himself I he may 
 stretch himself in the stirrups, look about, and 
 see the whole compass of the hemiephere. You're 
 now, my lord, i'tho saddle. 
 
 6^10. Study your prayers, sir, and be penitent : 
 'Twere fit you'd think on what hath former bin ; 
 I have heard grief nam'd the eldest child of sin.* 
 
 [SiU. 
 
 Flam. Study my prayers ! he threatens me 
 divinely : 
 I am falling to pieces already. I care not though, 
 like Anaciiai-sis, I were pounded to death in a 
 mortar : and yet that death were fitter for 
 usurers, gold and themselves to be beaten 
 together, to make a most cordial ciillis + for the 
 devil. 
 
 He hath his uncle's villanous look already, 
 In decimo sexto. 
 
 Enter Courtier. 
 Now, sir, what are you ? 
 ' Cour. It ^s the pleasure, sir, of the young duke. 
 That you furbear the presence, and all rooms 
 That owe him reverence. 
 
 Flam. So, the wolf aud the raven 
 Are very pretty fools when they are young. 
 Is it your office, sir, to keep me out ? 
 
 Cour. So tlie duke wills. 
 
 Flam. Verily, master coui-tier, extremity is not 
 to be used in all offices : say that a gentlewoman 
 were takeu out of her bed about midnight, and 
 committed to Castle Angelo, to the tower yonder, 
 with nothing about her but her smock, would it 
 not show a cruel part in the gentleman-porter to 
 lay claim to her upper garment, pull it o'er her 
 head and ears, aud put her iu naked .' 
 
 Cour. Very good : you are merry. [£Irtt 
 
 Flam. Doth ho make a court-ejectment of mo ! 
 u Ihuuing fire-bnmd casts more smoko without a 
 chimney than within't. I'll smoor^ some of them. 
 
 Kiitrr FuAKeisro DK MEDirtS. 
 H<»w now ! thou art sad. 
 
 Fran, de Mrd. 1 met even now with the most 
 
 piteous sight 
 Flam. Thou meet'st § another here, a pitiful 
 I>egnulod courtier. 
 
 i ... -*| T>ir 
 IWtnaHjr ulUb 
 
 "TalUiiU,"— Um word lisiug 
 
 * ■ ' - v.iff wu'i/ rAiM*. .v.- I III tho Lhichrti <xf MaJJI, 
 6. thU cuuplot. ullghtly altvi-od. In given to Ike 
 
 J r«.«.*I 8oo note on tlio Durhrtt t\f Malfl , A. II. 8.^. 
 I tmoor] I. e. (nKitlier. 
 
 I m/Wrf) Bo the 4to of IrtT'j ; tho U>roo earlloiit 4tai. 
 " mrt'it." 
 
THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 45 
 
 Fran, de Med. Your reverend motlier 
 Is grown a very old woman in two hours. 
 I found them winding of Marcello's corse ; 
 And there is such a solemn melody, 
 'Tween doleful songs, tears, and sad elegies, — 
 Such as old graudams watching by the dead 
 "Were wont to outwear the nights with, — that, 
 
 believe me, 
 I had no eyes to guide me forth the room, 
 They were so o'ercharg'd with water. 
 
 Flam. I will see them. 
 
 Fran, de Med. 'Twere much uncharity in you ; 
 for your sight 
 Will add unto their tears. 
 
 Flam. I will see them : 
 They are behind the traverse ; * I'll discover 
 Their superstitious howling. 
 
 [Draws ike curtain. 
 
 Cornelia, Zaxche, and three other Ladies discovered 
 winding Marcello's corse. A Song.] 
 
 Cor. This rosemary is wither'd ; pray, get 
 fresh. 
 I would have these herbs grow up m tis grave, 
 When I am dead and rotten. Reach the bays, 
 I'll tie a garland hex'e about his head ; 
 'TwUl keep my boy from lightning. This 
 
 sheet 
 I have kept this twenty year,J and every day 
 Hallow'd it with my prayers : I did not think 
 He should have wore it. 
 
 Zanche. Look you who are yonder. 
 
 Cor. 0, reach me the flowers. 
 
 Zanche. Her ladyship's foolish. 
 
 Lady. Alas, her grief 
 Hath tui-n'd her chUd again ! 
 
 Cor. You're very welcome : 
 There's rosemai-y § for you ; — and rue for you ; — 
 
 [To Flamixeo. 
 Heart's-ease for you ; I pray make much of it : 
 I have left more for myself. 
 
 Fran, de Med. Lady, who's this ? 
 
 Cor. You are, I take it, the grave-maker. 
 
 Flam. So. 
 
 Zanche. 'Tis Flamineo. 
 
 j Cor. Will you make me such a fool 1 here's a 
 white hand : 
 
 * t?ie traverse'\ "Beside the principal curtains that hung 
 in the front of the stage, they used others as substitutes 
 for scenes, which were denominated traverses." Malone's 
 Hist. Ace. of the English Stage, p. SS. ed. Boswell. 
 
 ■t A Song] In t!ie printed copies of old plays the 
 "songs" ai-e frequently.omitted. 
 
 i year] The 4to. of 1631, " years." 
 
 § There's rosemary, &c.] " See note on Hamlet, A. IV. 
 S. 6." Steevexs. 
 
 Can blood so soon be wash'd out ] * let me see ; 
 When screech-owls croak upon the chimney-tops, 
 And the strange cricket i' the oven sings and hops, 
 When yellow spots do on your hands appeal-. 
 Be certain then you of a corse shall hear. 
 Out upon't, how 'tis speckled ! h'as handled a 
 
 toad, sure. 
 Cowslip-water is good for the memory : 
 Pray, buy me three ounces oft. 
 
 Flam. I would I were fi'om hence. 
 
 Cor. Do you hear, sir ? 
 I'll give you a saying which my grand-mother 
 Was wont, when she heai'd the bell toll, to sing o'er 
 Unto her lute. 
 
 Flam. Do, an you will, do. 
 
 Cor. " Call for the robin-red-breast and the wren,'f 
 [Cornelia doth this in several forms of distraction.. 
 
 Since o'er shady groves they hover, 
 
 And with leaves and floivers do cover 
 
 The friendless bodies of unburied men. 
 
 Call unto his funeral dole 
 
 The ant, the field-mouse, and the mole, 
 
 To rear him hillocks that shall keep him warm. 
 
 And {when gay tombs are robb' d) sustain no harm: 
 
 But Iceep the wolf far thence, that's foe to men, 
 
 For with his nails he'll dig them up agai n." '^-r-' <;. 
 
 ■They would not bury him 'cause he died in a 
 
 quarrel ; 
 But I have an answer for them : 
 " Let holy church receive him duly, 
 Since he paid the church-tithes truly." 
 His wealth is summ'd, and this is all his store. 
 This poor men get, and great men get no more. 
 Now the wares ai'e gone, we may shut up shoj). 
 Bless you all, good people. 
 
 {^Exeunt Cornelia, Zanche, and Ladies. 
 
 Flam. I have a strange thing in me, to the 
 which 
 I cannot give a name, without it be 
 Compassion. I pray, leave me. 
 
 [Exit Francisco de Medicis. 
 
 This night I'll know the utmost of my fate ; 
 I'll be resolv'd what my rich sister means 
 
 * — here's a white hand : 
 Can blood so soon he wash'd out .?] Reed calls this "An 
 imitation of Lady Macbeth 's sleeping soliloquy." 
 
 t " I never saw any thing like this dirge, except the 
 ditty which reminds Ferdinand Of his dron-ned father in 
 the Tempest. As that is of the water, watery; so this is 
 of the earth, earthy. Both have that intenseness of feel- 
 ing, which seems to resolve itself into the elements 
 which it contemplates." C.Lamb. (Sjiec. of Eng. Dram. 
 Poets, p. 233.) Reed charges Webster with imitating part 
 of this dirge from the well-known passage iu Shake- 
 speare's Cyrabeiine, A. IV. S. 2. . 
 " The ruddock would 
 With charitable bill, " &c. 
 
4r, 
 
 THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 To ii.s>i-u me for my •orrice. I have liv'd 
 Itsotou.slv ill. like Aome that lire in court, 
 Ami Hoinetimca when my * face waa full of amiles, 
 Have flit the maxe of cnisciiiicc in my breast. 
 Oft gay and honour'd robes lluise tortures try : 
 We think og'd birdi ting, when indeed they cry. 
 
 Snitr UtiAcnikito'itphast, in kit Uatkrr catfoeland brttfhti, 
 <in-( baolt ; iriM a cowl; in kit kand a pot qf lUy- 
 flutim, tritk a U-utt in't. 
 
 Ha ! I can stand thee : nearer, nearer yet 
 What a mockery hath death made thee ! thou 
 
 look'st sad. 
 In what {.bee art thou ? in yon starry gallery ? 
 Or in Ujo cun-ifd dungeon ? — No J not speak ? 
 Pray, sir, rcaolvo me. what religion's best 
 For a man to die in ? or is it in your knowledge 
 To answer mo how long I have to live ? 
 That'e the most necessary (juestion. 
 Not answer? lu^ you still like some great men 
 That only \i-alk like shadows up and down, 
 And to no purpose ? aay : — 
 
 [ The Gh ost Ukrotet earth upon hifti, and $ho»ct him Iht 
 
 What's thatl 0, fatal ! ho throws earth upon me ! 
 A dead man's skull beneath the roots of flowers! — 
 I pray, speak, r-ir ; uur Italian church-men 
 illiikv us ) men hold couferenqe 
 
 With tliL'ii >, ^nd many tiiuoa 
 
 Will come to bed to them, and cat with them. 
 
 [Kcii Ghost. 
 He's gone ; and see, the skull and earth are vanish'd. 
 This is beyond melancholy. I do dare my fate 
 To do its worst. Now to my sister's lodging, 
 And stim up all those horrors : the disgnu-o 
 Tho prince throw on mo; next the piteous sight 
 Of my <1«mm1 brother; and my mother's dotage; 
 Atui liint this turriblo visiun : uU thesu 
 Khali with Vittorin's bounty turn to good, 
 Or I will drown this weapon in her blood. [ExU. 
 
 Ai/rr f aAHctaco db Mcdicm, t Lodovico, and HoarKMsio. 
 
 lod. My joni, ujHjn my soul, you shall no 
 furthi-r ; 
 You havo Miohl riilifulously cngni^-'d yoiirnelf 
 Ti>'> far filn n ly. Fur my jwrt, I havo imi.l 
 Al' "o, if I shouhl chance to fall, 
 
 M^ .11 Dot with me; and I vow 
 
 To i|uit all in tliis buhl assembly 
 To tho uicajiMt follower. .My lonl, leave thooity, 
 Or I'll fomwtMu- the niunlor. [HxtL 
 
 Frmm. d* Mtd, Karwwoll. Lodovico : 
 
 • Mr] TtM«(u »^ l«3l, ••*<«,--.« mUpHut pcrhaiis for 
 
 • Knltr frmntlif Jt UtJiett, he ] necnc. A stnwl 
 
 If thou dost perish in this glorious act, 
 I'll rear unto thy memory that fame 
 Shall in tho ashes keep alive thy name. [ExiL 
 Ilor. There's some black deed on foot. I'll 
 
 presently 
 Down to the citadel, and raise some force. 
 These strong court-factions, that do brook no 
 
 checks. 
 In the career oft break the riders' necks. [Exit. 
 
 EiUrr ViTTOBiA Coromboka* leith a bool in her hand, aud 
 Zancbe; Fi.A.itiyix> foUoicinff tlitm. 
 
 Flam. What, are you at your prayers? give o'er. 
 
 Vit. Cor. How, ruffian ! 
 
 Flam. I come to you 'bout worldly business: 
 Sit down, sit down : — nay, stay, blouze, you may 
 
 hear it : — 
 Tlie doors are fast enough. 
 
 Vit. Cor. Ha, are you drunk ? 
 
 Flam. Yes, yes, with wormwood-water: you 
 shall taste 
 Some of it presently. 
 
 Ft*. Cor. What intends the Fury ? 
 
 Flam, You are my lord's executrix ; and I claim 
 Reward for my long service. 
 
 Vit. Cor. For your service ! 
 
 Flam. Come, therefore, here is pen and ink ; 
 set down 
 What you will give me. 
 
 Vit. Cor. There. [WrUe$. 
 
 Flam. Ha ! have you done already ? 
 'Tis a most short conveyance. 
 
 iv 
 
 I 
 
 \ Vit. Cor. I will read it 
 
 [Reads. 
 
 " 7 ffive that portion to thee, aud no other, 
 Which Cain groan'd under, having slain Jii* 
 brother.'' 
 
 Flam. A most courtly patent to beg by ! 
 
 Vit. Cor. You are a villain. 
 
 Flam, Is't como to this? They say, affrighta 
 cure agues : 
 Thou hast a devil in thee ; I will try 
 If I can scare him from thee. Nay, sit still : 
 My lord hath left mo yet two caset of jewels 
 Shall make mo scorn your boiuity ; you shall see 
 them. [Exit, 
 
 Vit. Cor. Sure, he's distracted. 
 
 Zauehf. O, he's dcs|M.irato : 
 For your own snfoty give him gentle langunga. 
 
 Ht-mirr PI-aMINICO tritk liro eutt tif pirtoU. 
 Flam, Look, the « are better far at a ilcatl lift 
 Than all your jewel house. 
 
 * AVfrr I'iltartn (XtnuHttonr; *r. 1 Pccno. An n|>art- 
 inoiil III Uio rBai.loiiPo i.f Vttlorltt : km notot. P- **. 
 
THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 47 
 
 r 
 
 Vil. Cor. And yet, methiiiks. 
 These stones have no fair lustre, they are ill set. 
 
 Flam. I'll turn the right side towards you : you 
 shall see 
 How they will sparkle. 
 
 Vit. Cor. Turn this horror from me ! 
 What do you want ? what would you have me do ? 
 Is not all mine yours ■? have I any children ? 
 
 Flam. Pray thee, good woman, do not trouble me 
 With this vain worldly business; say your 
 
 prayers : 
 I made a vow to my deceased lord, 
 Neither yourself nor I should outlive him 
 The numbering of four hours. 
 
 Vit. Cor. Did he enjoin it ? 
 
 Flam. He did ; and 'twas a deadly jealousy. 
 Lest any should enjoy thee after him. 
 That urg'd him vow me to it. For my death, 
 I did propound it voluntarily, knowing, 
 If he could not be safe in his own court. 
 Being a great duke, what hope, then, for us ? 
 
 Vit. Cor. This is your melancholy and despair. 
 
 Flam. Away ! 
 Fool thou art to think that politicians 
 Do use to kill the effects of injuries 
 And let the cause live. Shall we groan in irons, 
 Or be a shameful and a weighty burden 
 To a public scaflFold ? This is my resolve ; 
 I would not live at any man's entreaty, 
 Nor die at any's bidding. 
 
 Vit. Cor. Will you hear me ? 
 
 Flam. My life hath done service to other men ; 
 My death shall serve mine own turn. Make you 
 ready. 
 
 Vit. Cor. Do you mean to die indeed 1 
 
 Flam. With as much pleasure 
 As e'er my father gat me. 
 
 Vit. Cor. Are the doors lock'd ? 
 
 Zanche. Yes, madam. __-— 
 
 Vit. Cor. Are yau^rpjajt^H-alJieMl^^^HdlL^u 
 
 '" tjirnjimi.--b©4j^- ^,.^J 
 
 Whichjsjbhe^oodlyjial^a^q of tbft s""1j_ / 
 To the^ soul's sla ughter-hou aeJ/ 0,~the curs6d devil. 
 Which dotE present us with all other sins 
 Thrice-candied o'er ; despair with gall and 
 
 stibium ; 
 Yet we carouse it off; — Cry out for help ! — 
 
 [^Aside to Zancue. 
 Makes us forsake that which was made for man, 
 The world, to sink to that was made for devils, 
 Eternal darkness ! 
 Zanche. Help, help ! 
 Flain. I'll stop your throat 
 With winter-plums. 
 
 Vit. Cor. I prithee, yet remember. 
 Millions are now in graves, which at last day 
 Like mandrakes shall rise shrieking. 
 
 Flam. Leave your prating, 
 For these are but grammatical laments, 
 Feminine arguments : and they move me, 
 As some in pulpits move their auditory. 
 More with their exclamation than sense 
 Of reason or sound doctrine. 
 
 Zanche [aside to Vit.]. Gentle madam. 
 Seem to consent, only persuade him teach 
 The way to death ; let him die first. 
 
 Vit. Cor. 'Tis good. I apprehend it, 
 To kill one's self is meat that we must take 
 Like pills, not chew't, but quickly swallow it ; 
 The smart o'the wound, or weakness of the 
 
 hand, 
 May else bring treble torments. 
 
 Flam. I have held it 
 A wretched and most miserable life 
 Which is not able to die. 
 
 Vit. Cor. 0, but frailty ! 
 Yet I am now resolv'd : farewell, affliction ! 
 Behold, Brachiano, I that while you liv'd 
 Did make a flaming altar of my heart 
 To sacrifice unto you, now am ready 
 To sacrifice heart and all. — Farewell, Zanche ! 
 Zanche. How, madam ! do you think that I'll 
 outlive you ; 
 Especially when my best self, Flamineo, 
 Goes the same voyage ? 
 
 Flam. 0, most loved Moor ! 
 Zanche. Only by all my love let me entreat 
 you,— 
 Since it is most necessary one * of us 
 Do violence on ourselves, — let you or I 
 Be her sad taster, teach her how to die. 
 
 Flam. Thou dost instruct me nobly : take ' 
 these pistols, 
 Because my hand is stain'd with blood already : 
 Two of these you shall level at my breast. 
 The other 'gainst your own, and so we'll die 
 Most equally contented : but first swear 
 Not to outlive me. 
 
 Vit. Cor. and Zanche. Most religiously. 
 Flam. Then here's an end of me ; farewell, 
 daylight ! 
 And, contemptible physic, that dost take 
 So long a study, only to preserve 
 So short a life, I take my leave of thee ! — • 
 These are two cupping-glasses that shall draw 
 
 [Showing the pistols. 
 All my infected blood out. Are you ready ? 
 
 * one] The4to. of 1612, "none." 
 
48 
 
 THE WHITE Dl\viL;OR, '^^TTORIA CORpMBONA. 
 
 1)., nil: : "-■ frcjjuUiolV 
 
 To li-llt Ihcc tiiltlKT. 
 
 Tlam. Oarsmen soot, 
 Most stiuking soot ! the chimney is a-fire : 
 My liver's paiboil'd, like Scotch holly-bread ; 
 There's a plumber layiug pipes in my guts, it 
 scalds. — 
 in a cart drawn with one AVi^'thou outlive mc 1 
 
 jl^ Zanche. Yes, and drive a stake 
 'Thorough thy body ; for we'll give it out 
 
 Vit. Cor. and Zanche. Ready. 
 
 Plant. Whither shall I go now ! O Lucian, tly 
 ridiculous purgatorj- ! to find Alexander the 
 Great cobbling bhoe\ rompty tagging points, 
 and Julius Ciesar making lian-bultons ! Hannibal 
 selling blacking, and Augustus crying garlic ! 
 Charlemn'"'" "•''■' liata by the dozen, and King 
 Pepin cr\ 
 
 lion* J ~~ — .. / 
 
 Wlicther I resolve to fire, earth, water, air, ^ 
 Or all the elements by scruples, I know not^ 
 Nor grMlly care. — Shoot, shoot : I 
 
 Of all deaths the violent death is best ; ^ 
 For fntin oumolves it steals ourselves so fas^, 
 Th' apprehended, is quite past. | 
 
 U/alU ; and tlui) run to him, and trtad 
 . ^ '.. '> itn. 
 
 Vit. Cor. What, are you dropt ? 
 . 'lam. I am mtx'd with earth already : as you 
 are noble, 
 Pcrfc.m your vows, and bravely follow me. 
 Vit. Cor. Whither} to hell? 
 Zanche. To most assur'd dumnittion 1 
 Vit. Cor. thou most cursiid devil ! 
 Zanche. Thou art caught — 
 ViL Cor. In thine own engine. I tread the 
 fire out 
 That would have been my ruin. 
 
 Flam. Will you be perjured ? what a religious 
 oath was Ktyz, tliat the gods never durst swear 
 by, and violate ! O, that we had such an oath to 
 uiini>t«r, and to be so well kept in our courts of 
 juatico ! 
 
 Vu. Cor. Think whither thou art going. 
 Zanche. And mmembvr 
 What villnniett thou hajit acteil. 
 
 Vu. Cor. This thy death 
 Shall make tua like a blaxiug ominous stu 
 I ..-.I III. and tremble. 
 
 O, I am caught with a ipringo ! 
 .1.. twT. You nee Uie fox comes many tinu's 
 •hurt howo ; 
 • 'd true. 
 i with a ooupio of braobmt !* 
 I if. ( ... .\,j |Ut•^ ufToring for the infernal 
 Furic. 
 Than ono iu whom they reigu'd while ho wiw 
 living. 
 Flam. O, the way's dark and horriil ! I ciuiuot 
 M^ : 
 
 hl.«'I I 1. ii. ! .. . in: it:i\ \ 
 l-.r r-,.. , ; „. 
 
 II. Ii lii.tiiiiU. 
 
 r 
 
 Thou didst this violence upon thyself. 
 'Flam. cunning devils ! now I have tried 
 
 your love, 
 And doubled all your reaches. — I am not 
 
 wouu d ed ; [Rues. 
 
 The pistols held no bullets : 'twas a plot 
 To prove your kindness to me : and I live 
 To punish your ingratitude. I knew. 
 One time or other, you would find a way 
 To give me a strong potion. — O men 
 That lie upon your deathbeds, and are haunted 
 With howling wives, ne'er trust them ! they'll 
 
 remai-ry 
 l!re the worm pierce your wiuding-shect, ere the 
 
 spider 
 M ike a thin curtain for your epitaphs. — 
 How cunning you were to discharge ! do you 
 practise at the Artillcrj'-yard ? — Trust a woman ! 
 never, never ! Bnichiuno be my precedent We 
 lay our souls to pawn to the devil for a little 
 jileiisure, and a woman makes the bill of sale. 
 That ever msm should marry ! For one Hyperm- 
 nestni* that saved her lord and husband, forty- 
 uliio of her sistcra cut their husbands' throats all 
 lit one night: there was a shoal of virtuous 
 horso-leeches ! — Here are two other iustrumeuts. 
 ru. Cor. Help, help ! 
 
 h'tittr LoDovico, Gasparo, Pediio, and Cahlo. , 
 
 Mam. What noiso is that f ha ! false keya i'the 
 
 court! 
 L'jd. Wo have brought you a mask. 
 Flam. A matachin,t it seems by your drawn 
 
 swords, 
 Chnrch-meu turn'd revellers! 
 
 • i)H« //y;i#rMn/>(iM] 'f II,v|M<rinnoHtin^no of the fifty 
 >!niiirliUini of Itiiiinu*, tlio aoii of Tlohli, brolhcr of 
 .Ki^yitiK llcr f.illiir, l>oii>); wnrtiod by an omolo tlmt 
 
 \tr itli.-nM \t l.ll!r.| \ :■ tv.\r of I.U nOpllOWH, ))OI1tUluioil Uis 
 
 ■ I > i I.I iimrl-y llic Kona of 
 
 I il.o lii-xl niKlit. This 
 
 \'' • ...11 ■■.,. . v.,-|.i lly|H.'rniiic«tm. She 
 
 |.i ».!»o.| hor liualwiiil Lyuooiu, who ullorwiinlf slow 
 I' >.,»,■.■• ItkM). 
 
 • I ^'i.ilacAwi U mtMt 6y your dra%tn lteord$] ''Quch a 
 
THE WHITE DEVIL ; OR, VfTTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 49 
 
 Carlo* Isabella! Isabella! 
 Lod. Do you know us now 1 
 Flam. Lodovico ! and Gasparo ! 
 Lod. Yes; and that Moor the duke gave pen- 
 sion to 
 Was the great Duke of Florence. 
 Vit. Cor. 0, we are lost ! 
 
 Flam. You shall not take justice from forth my 
 hands, — 
 O, let me kill her ! — I'll cut my safety 
 Through your coats of steel. Fate's a spaniel, 
 We cannot beat it from us. What remains now ? 
 Let all that do ill, take this precedent, — 
 "■-IVIan may his fate foresee, but not prevent : 
 
 And of all axioms this sliall win the prize, — 
 ^Tis better to be fortunate than wise. I 
 
 Gas. Bind him to the pillar. 
 Vit. Cor. 0, your gentle pity ! 
 I have seen a black-bird that would sooner fly 
 To a man's bosom, than to stay the gripe 
 Of the fierce sparrow-hawk. 
 Gas. Your hope deceives you. 
 Vit. Cor. If Florence be i'the court, would he 
 
 would kill me ! + 
 Gas. Fool ! princes give rewards with their own 
 hands. 
 But death or punishment by the hands of others. 
 Lod. Sirrah, you once did strike me : I'll strike 
 you 
 Into X the centre. 
 
 dance was that well known in Prance and Italy by the 
 name of the dance of fools or Matachins, who were 
 habited in short jackets, witli gilt paper lielmets, long 
 streamers tied to their shoulders, and bells to their legs. 
 They carried in their hands a sword and buckler, with 
 which they made a clashing noise, and performed various 
 quick and sprightly evolutions." Douce's Illust. of 
 Shakespeare, vol. ii. p. 435. 
 Compare the following passage of a curious old drama ; 
 "Avar. What's this, a Masque ? 
 Hind. A Matachin, you'l find it. 
 
 IHind stamps with his foot: then enters Turbo, 
 
 Latro, &c. in vizards : gag Avaritio and his 
 
 men. " 
 
 An excellent Comedy, called the' Prince of Priggs Revels, or 
 
 the Practises of thai grand thief Captain James Bind, die. 
 
 . 1658, Sig. A 3. 
 
 To some dance like a matachin Middleton alludes 
 when he says ; 
 
 "two or three varlets came 
 Into the house with all their rapiers drawn. 
 As if they'd dance the sword-dance on the stage." 
 A Chaste Maid in Cheapside, — Works, iv. 75, ed. Dyce. 
 * Carlol The two earliest 4tos. " Con." ; those of 1665 
 and 1672, "Gas." 
 
 t would he would kill me] The 4tos. of 1665 and 1672, 
 "he would not kill me ! " 
 
 X Inl6\ The 4to. of 1631 "Vnto:" but our early writers 
 frequently use "into " for " unto " (in proof of which more 
 than one passage of Shakespeare might be adduced). 
 
 Flam. Thou'lt do it like a hangman, a base 
 hangman. 
 Not like a noble fellow ; for thou see'st 
 I cannot strike again. 
 
 Lod. Dost laugh ? 
 
 Flam. Would'st have me die, as I was born, in 
 whining ? 
 
 Gas. Recommend yourself to heaven. 
 
 Flam. No, I will carry mine own commendations 
 thither. 
 
 Lod. 0, could I kill you forty times a day. 
 And use't four year together, 'twere too little ! 
 Naught grieves but that you are too few to feed 
 The famine of our vengeance. What dost think 
 on? 
 
 Flam. Nothing ; of nothing : leave thy idle 
 questions. 
 I am i'the way to study a long silence : 
 To prate were idle. I remember nothing. 
 There's nothing of so infinite vexation 
 As man's own thoughts. 
 
 Lod. thou glorious strumpet ! 
 Could I divide thy breath from this pure air 
 When't leaves thy body, I would suck it up. 
 And breathe't upon some dunghill. 
 
 Vit. Cor. You, my death' s-man ! 
 Methiuks thou dost not look horrid enough, 
 Thou hast too good a face to be a hangman : 
 If thou be, do thy office in right form ; 
 Fall down upon thy knees, and ask forgiveness. 
 
 Lod. 0, thou hast been a most prodigious 
 comet ! 
 But I'll cut off your train,— kill the Moor first. 
 
 Vit. Cor. You shall not kill her first ; behold 
 my breast : 
 I will be waited on in death ; my servant 
 Shall never go before me. 
 
 Gas. Are you so brave ] 
 
 Vit. Cor. Yes, I shall welcome death 
 As princes do some great ambassadors; 
 I'll meet thy weapon half way. 
 
 Lod. Thou dost tremble : 
 Methinks fear should dissolve thee into air. 
 
 Vit. Cor. 0, thou art deceiv'd, I am too true a 
 woman : 
 Conceit can never kill me. I'll tell thee what, 
 I will not in my death shed one base tear ; 
 Or if look pale, for want of blood, not fear. 
 
 Carlo. Thou art my task, black Fury. 
 
 Zanche. I have blood 
 As red as either of theirs : wilt drink some ? 
 'Tis good for the falling-sickness. I am proud 
 Death cannot alter my complexion. 
 For I shall ne'er look pale. 
 
50 
 
 THE WHITE DEVIL; OR, VITTORIA COROMBOXA. 
 
 Lod. Strike, strike, 
 With a j«jut luutiun. 
 
 [TAc; Jtoli VirroUA, Zaxcui^ and Flamiheo. 
 
 Vit. Cor. T»M ft niouly blow : 
 The next thou giv'nt. murder some auckiug infant ; 
 And then Ujou wilt b« famous. 
 
 Flam. 0, what bla<lo in't T 
 A Toledo, or an Euglish fox ! * 
 I erer thought a cutler bhoulJ di«tinguit>h 
 The cause of my death, rather than a doctor. 
 Search my wound deeper ; tout it with the steel 
 That ma'le it 
 
 Fi/. Cor. O, my greatest sin lay in my blood ! 
 Now my blood pays for't. 
 
 Flam. Thou'rt a noble einter ! 
 I love thee now : if woman do breed man. 
 She ought to teach him manhood: f;iro thee well. 
 Know, many glorious women that are fam'd 
 For masculine virtue have been vicious, 
 Only a happier silence did betide them : 
 She hath no faults who hath the art to liido them. 
 Vit. Cor. My soul, like to a ship in a black 
 storm, 
 la driven, I know not whither. 
 
 Flam. Then cast anchor. 
 Prosperity doth bewitch men, seeming clear ; 
 Uut seas do laugh, show white, when rocks are 
 n«ar. 
 I We c«< so to grieve, cease to be fortune's slaves, 
 
 Nay, ..-caa^t to die, by dying. Art thou gone ? 
 I And thou so near tho bottom ? false report, 
 ! W'l. hat women vie with tlie nine Muses 
 
 ; ¥■,'. I durable livert ! I do not look 
 
 Who went before, nor who hiiall follow me ; 
 No, at myself I will be^in and end. 
 While wo look up to heaven, we confound 
 Knowledge with knowledge. O, I am in a mist! 
 ' Vu. Cor, 0, happy they that never saw the court, 
 ' Nor ever knew groat men t but by report I [Dia. 
 Flam. I recover like a spout tajtor, for a Hash, 
 And instantly go out. 
 
 L»l all that iM'long tu groat men remonibor the 
 old wivos' tnulition, to bo like the lions i'tlip 
 Tower on Candlemas day ; to mourn if tbo sun 
 •liine, fur fear of the pitiful reuiaiudor of winter 
 io eom* 
 
 fttK] " TWMle. the MplUl 
 > >• rumiorlr much faiited fur 
 to*, fut ; « oaut loriii r»r a 
 
 'Tis well yet there's some goodness in my death; 
 My life was a black chamel. I have caught 
 An everlasting cold ; I have lost my voice 
 Mo.st irrecoverably. Farewell, glorious villains ! 
 This busy trade of life appears most vain, 
 Since rest breeds rest, where all seek pain by pain. 
 Let no harsh flattering bells resound my knell ; 
 Strike, thunder, and strike loud, to my farewell I 
 
 [Dia. 
 
 Eng. Amh, {within.^ This way, this way ! break 
 ope the doors ! this way ! 
 
 Lod. Ha! are we betray 'd? 
 Why, then let's constantly die all together ; 
 And having fiuish'd this most noble deed, 
 Defy the worst of fate, not fear to bleed. 
 
 £nter Ambassadors and GiovANia. 
 Eng. Amb. Keep back the prince : shoot, shoot. 
 [They tkoot, and Looovico/aW*. 
 
 Lod. 0, I am wounded ! 
 I fear I shall be ta'en. 
 
 Gio. You bloody villains, 
 By what authority have you committed 
 This massacre ? 
 
 Lod. By thine. 
 
 Gio. Mine! 
 
 Lod. Yes ; thy uncle, 
 Which is a part of thee, enjoin'd us to't : 
 Thou know'st me, I am sure ; I am Count Lodo- 
 
 wick ; 
 And thy most noble uncle in disguise 
 Was last night in thy court. 
 
 Gio. Ha! 
 
 Carlo. Yes, that l^foor 
 Thy father chose his pensioner. 
 
 Gio. He turn'd murderer! — 
 Away with them to iirison and to torture! 
 All that huvu hands in this shall tasto our justice. 
 As I hope heaven. 
 
 Lod, I do glory yot 
 That I i-an call this act mine own. For my part. 
 The rack, the gallows, and the torturing wheel, 
 Shall be but houu() sleeps to me: hero's my rest; 
 1 limn'd this night-piece, and it was my beat 
 
 Gio, Hemovo tho bo»lics. See, my houour'd 
 lords,* 
 What use you ought make of thoir punishment : 
 I^t guilty men remonibor, their black deeds 
 Do loan on crutches made of slender rueds. 
 
 I Kxru nt. 
 
 t aMaJTlMit 
 
 * l4inf4j Tbo old oda. " lord," 
 
THE WHITE DEVIL ; OR, YITTORIA COROMBONA. 
 
 51 
 
 Instead of an EPILOGUE, only this of Martial supplies me : 
 HcEcfuerint nobis prcemia, si placui* 
 
 For the action of the play, 'twas generally well, 
 and I dare affirm, with the joint-testimony of 
 some of their own quality, for the true imitation 
 of life, without striving to make nature a monster, 
 the best that ever became them : whereof as I 
 make a general acknowledgment, so in particular 
 I must remember the well-approved industry of 
 my friend Master Perkins,+ and confess the worth 
 
 of his action did crown both the beginnino 
 end. 
 
 * Hcec fuerint, &c.] ii. 91. 
 
 t MaUer Perkinf\ Richard Perkins was an actor of 
 considerable eminence. As the old itos. of The White 
 Devil do not give the names of the performers, we can- 
 not determine what part he had in it. If, before this 
 postscript was written, Burbadge had performed Bra- 
 chiano (which we know was one of his characters, see 
 p. 2), we cannot but wonder that no mention should 
 be made of him here. Perhaps Perkins originally played 
 that part. — Perkins continued to act for many years, 
 chiefly, it appears, at the Cock-pit or Phcenix, where 
 this play was produced. I find the following notices of 
 him in Herbert's MSS. apud Malone; "[about ie22-c] 
 
 and 
 
 the names of the chiefe players at the Red Bull, called 
 the players of the Revelles, Robert Lee, Richard Perkings, " 
 &c. Hist. Ac. of the Eagliih Stage, p. 59. ed. Boswell; 
 again, " [about 1637,] I disposed of Perkins, Sumner, 
 Sherlock and Turner, to Salisbury Court, and joynd them 
 with the best of that company." lb. p. 240. He was 
 tlie original performer of Captain Goodlack in Heywood's 
 Fair Maid of the Wtst, of Sir John Belfare in Shirley's 
 Wedding, and of Hanuo in Xabbes's Hannibal and Scipio : 
 the last piece, as we learn from the title-page, was played 
 in 16:<5. When Jlarlowe's Jiw of Malta was revived about 
 1633 (in which year it was first given to the pres.s), Per- 
 kins acted Barabas ; see Heywood's Prologue at the 
 Cock-pit o; i the occasion. According to Wright's Historia 
 Uistrionka, after the suppression of tlie theatres, Perkins 
 abd Sumner (who belonged to the same company) 
 "kept house together at Clerkenwell, and were there 
 buried : " they "died some years before the restoration." 
 A copy of verses by Perkins is prefixed to Heywood's 
 Apology for Actors. 
 
 f. 2 
 
THE DUCHESS OF MALFL 
 
JV Trofffdf of O.f Dt'.ch'ut (ff Ualfi^. At U yea* PretenUd privatly, ai Vie Black-Priert : and pvhliqudy at Ou 
 aiobt, Bf Ou KOvi Hanitif Srruantt. The p'r/tct arul exact Coppy, with diuerte thingt Printed, that the length qf the 
 
 Flag womld wit hmn in On Fntmtmmt. Wntte^i by John Webster. Bora.— Si 5uid Candid'M Imperii »i non hi* utere 
 
 wueum. London : Printtd by XichoUu Oka, for Joltn Waterion, and are to be sold at the tignx of the Croume, in Paule* 
 Okurch-yard, 10^. 4to. 
 
 Thf Thichfttr 0/ .Valfy. A Tragedy. At it vat approvedly well acted at the Blaek-Priert, By hi* Majettie* Servant*. 
 
 0.1 ;^ r ,! ' ., ■ ' '"yy, wiM dirrri thingt Prii.ted, that the length of the Play icotUd not beare in the Presentment. 
 
 II ■• II ' rrr. Jl'irat. — Si </uiJ Candidut Imprrti *i non hi* utere mecum. London; Printed by I. 
 
 J. • n-rtA, /.T ;. ;«(..irt., And are to be told at hit iliop in St. Banitan* Churchyard in Flettttreet. 1&40. 4to. 
 
 7»/ Dufktt* of Ma'Jl WM reprinted in 1678, and (newly adapted for representation) in 1708. Theobald's 
 .!. r it 11 oflt, called The Patnl Secret, appeared in 1735. A rcpriut of the 4to. of 1C40, "with all its imperfections 
 ■ ;. .L'. ! ■ :iJ," Im given in the Ancimt Britith Drama. 
 
 . I'.ir the most correct of the 4tos. : lines are found in it, which have dropt out from 
 • ho different jmssjiges where thej' ought to stind, imintelligiblo. On collating seveiiU 
 
 ix.|.».. ". i.,,,n ■,,..,, ,,.,.^ ,.,^i with one or two various readings of no great importance : see prefatory remarks to 
 
 Tk* M'AKf Deril, p. U. 
 
 Maloue (not« on Shukesfieare's Timon of Athens, act iii. sc. 3.) is of opinion that the Pucliest of Maljl had 
 • {ipearod beforo 1010, supposing that it is the play alluded to in the Prologue (hrst printed in that year) to Ben 
 Juii«t<ii'* /.'irrv J/rifi in hit llumuur ; ' 
 
 " To make a child now-swaddled to proceed 
 Man," 4c. 
 
 but Malona ouffht to hare been aware that in all probability the Prologue in question was written when Every Man 
 im kit lltimoM' w.,« ( r>t u.t. 1, In IS'.'S or 1500. Among the MS8. notes of the game commentator in the Bodleian 
 L4brary, I " I think It is probable that the Dutches* of Malfy was produced about the year 1,(512, 
 
 when (he . ,tod." But enough uf Kuch conjectures. Wo are certain that the ZhirAt.Mo/Jfatri was 
 
 l<t( nil. 1 ' •• M , l'_ 18 19, when Burbadgc, who originally played Ferdinand, died ; and wc may conclude 
 I : ..^t i! « .« • -• 1 ; .1 .t J about KilO. 
 
 ■ tbo Soveilt of Bandollo, Part I. N. CO ; in Belleforcst's translation of Bandello, N. 19 ; 
 .1 . Tol. it. N. «, od. Hiislowocjd; in Board's Theatre of Uvd't JiiJgmiiUt, B. iL ch. 22. 
 
 !• --. '1 i ■ '. , :iM I in t..jiii;irt's Hittoirtt Admimblti, vol. i. p. Sill, ed. 1020. 
 
 I^'po do Vog» wruta Bt Mayordomo d« la Dw/ueta dt AmaH, 1618 : boo his L\/e by Lord Holland, vol. il. p. 147, 
 el l»|7. 
 
EIGHT HONOURABLE GEORGE HARDING, BARON BERKELEY,* OF BERKELEY CASTLE, 
 
 AND KNIGHT OF THE ORDER OF THE BATH TO THE ILLUSTRIOUS 
 
 PRINCE CHARLES. 
 
 My noble lord, 
 
 That I may present my excuse why, being a stranger to your lordship, I offer this poem to your 
 patronage, I plead this warrant : — men who never saw the sea yet desire to behold that regiment of 
 waters, choose some eminent river to guide them thither, and make that, as it were, their conduct or 
 postilion : by the like ingenious means has your fame arrived at my knowledge, receiving it from some 
 of worth, who both in contemplation and practice owe to your honour their clearest service. I do not 
 altogether look up at your title ; the ancientest nobility being but a relic of time past, and the truest 
 honour indeed being for a man to confer honour on himself, which your learning strives to propagate, 
 and shall make you arrive at the dignity of a great example. I am confident this work is not unworthy 
 your honour's perusal ; for by such poems as this poets have kissed the hands of great princes, and 
 drawn their gentle eyes to look down upon their sheets of paper when the poets themselves were bound 
 up in their winding-sheets. The like courtesy from your lordship shall make you live in your grave, 
 and laurel spring out of it, when the ignorant scorners of the Muses, that like worms in libraries seem 
 to live only to destroy learning, shall wither neglected and forgotten. This work and myself I humbly 
 present to your approved censure, it being the utmost of my wishes to have your honourable self my 
 wei ghty and perspicuous comment ; which grace so done me shall ever be acknowledged 
 
 By your lordship's 
 
 in all duty and obsei'vance, 
 
 JoH^ Webster. 
 
 * George Harding, Baron SerMey] This nobleman, the twelfth Lord Berkeley, was the son of Sir Thomas 
 Berkeley, and succeeded his grand-father, Hem-y, the eleventh Lord Berkeley. He was made Knight of the Bath 
 at the creation of Charles Prince of Wales, November 4th, 1616. He married Elizabeth, second daughter and 
 co-heir of Sir Michael Stanhope of Sudbury in Suffolk, and died lOtli of August, 1658. According to the inscription 
 on his monument in Cranford church, Middlesex, he "besides the nobility of his birth, and the experience he 
 acquired by foreign travejs, was very eminent for the great candour and ingenuity of his disposition, his singular 
 bounty and affixbility towards his inferiors, and his readiness (liad it been in his power) to have obliged all 
 mankind." — " My good lord," says Massinger, inscribing The Renegado to him, "to he honoured for old nobility 
 or hereditary titles, is not alone proper to yourself, but to some few of your rank, who may challenge the like 
 privilege with you : but in our age to vouchsafe (as you have often done) a ready hand to raise the dejected 
 spirits of the contemned sons of the Muses, such as would not suffer the glorious fire of poesy to be wholly 
 extinguished, is so remarkable and peculiar to your lordship, that, with a full vote and sufli-age, it is acknowledged 
 that the patronage and protection of the dramatic poem is yours and almost without a rival." 
 
 The present dedication is found only in the 4to. of 1623. 
 
IN THE JDST WGRTII OP THAT WELLDESERVER, MR. JOHN WEBSTER, 
 AND UPON THIS MASTER-PIECE OP TRAGEDY. 
 
 In thus thou imitat'st one rich and wise, 
 That 8oe« his good deeds done before he dies : 
 As he by works, thou by this work of lame 
 Hast well provided for thy living name. 
 To trust to others' honourings is worth's crime. 
 Thy monument is rais'd in thy life-time ; 
 And 'tis most jnst ; fur every worthy man 
 Is liis own marble, and his merit can 
 Cut him to any figure, and express 
 More art than death's cathedral palaces 
 Where royal a-shes keep their court. Thy note 
 Bo ever plainness ; 'tis the richest coat : 
 Thy epitaph only the title be. 
 Write Duchest, that will fetch a tear for thee ; 
 Por who e'er saw this Duchess live and die. 
 That could get oflf under a bleeding eye 1 
 
 In Tragcediam. 
 Ut lux ex tenebris ictu percussa tonantis, 
 Ill:i, ruina mali.s, claris fit vita poetis. 
 
 Thomas Middlktoncs,* 
 
 Poeta et Chron, Londinensis. 
 
 TO HIS FRIEND MR. JOHN WEBSTER, UPON HIS "DUCHESS OF MALFI." 
 
 I never saw thy Duchess till the day 
 . That she was lively bo«Hed in thy play : 
 
 lIowo'iT she answer'd her low-rated love 
 Her brothfrs' auger did so fatal prove, 
 Yet my opinion ih, she might B|>eak more. 
 But never in her life so well before. 
 
 • WiL. Row LEY. t 
 
 TO THE READER oF THE AUTHOR, AND HIS "DDCHES.^ OF &LALFI. ' 
 
 Crown him a |>oet, whom nor Rome nor Greece 
 
 TranNccud in all Iht-ir's for a mast<-r|iieoo ; 
 
 111 which, wliiK-s Hcrdit and matter change, and men 
 
 Act one another, he, from whose clear jxn 
 
 Tlu-y nil t4H>k life, t" memory liatli lent 
 
 A litHtiug tniiii' to raitw his mouiiniuiit, 
 
 Joim FoRD.J 
 
 Tl- toiit Uit.l Mom uM, fMTa M Ckrom. lendhtrnMi] Of ThomMi Mlddleton, who hold* no ntcnii rauk among our 
 •uano •eoouut |>roflsed to my oditinu of hU IPorl«.— " CMron. LoMdiiwNMj" iiiMus Chrauoloiror 
 
 ■ iio naino of Uita |)oot fiuutltnr to most roodoix 
 
 1 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONS, 
 
 rf^EKDiNAND, Duke of Calabria (1 * R. Burbadge, 
 
 • (. 2. J. Taylor. 
 
 ' „ I,- u «.!, (1. H. Condell, 
 
 Cardikal, his brother i „ -r^ -r^ , . 
 
 k^ ( 2. R. Robmson. 
 
 {1 W Ostler 
 ' ■„ ' T, „ ', , 
 2. R. Benfield- 
 
 Delio, his friend J. Underwood. 
 
 ■■- Daniel DE BosoLA, gentleman of the horse to the Duchess , . . . J. Lowin. 
 
 Castruccio. ' 
 
 Marqdis of Pescara. ■ ■ J. Rice. 
 
 CotiNT Malatesti? 
 
 RODERIGO. 
 
 Silvio T. Pollard. 
 
 Grisolan. 
 
 Doctor . . R. Pallant. 
 
 The Several Madmen > < ''-^'°°^^' , , 
 
 (. J. Underwood, fflc. 
 
 Duchess of Malfi*^ R. Sharpe. 
 
 Cariola, her woman * R. Pallant. t 
 
 • Julia, Castruccio's wife, and the Cardinal's mistress J. Thomson. 
 
 Old Lady. 
 
 Ladies, Children, Pilgrims, Executioners, Officers, and Attendants, &o. 
 
 * The names of the actors are given from the 4tos. of 1G23 and 1640. Where two names are placed opposite 
 to the same part, the first name is that of the actor who performed the part when the play was originally 
 produced about 1616 ; the second name is that of his successor to the part on the revival of the play not long 
 before 1623. 
 
 Whoever is desirous of learning all that is known concerning these worthies will find it in Malone's Hist. Ac. 
 of the English Stage and Chalmers's Farther Ac, &c. (Malone's Shakespeare by BosweU). — The preceding sentence 
 was written in 1830. I have now also to refer the reader to Mr. Collier's Memoirs of the principal actors in the plays 
 of Shakespeare, printed for the Shakespeare Society. 
 
 t Pallant, it appears from the two earliest 4tos., played not only the Doctor and Cariola, but also one of the 
 Officers ; 
 
 " The Doctor, •\ 
 Cariola, I R. Pallant. 
 
 Court Officers." J 
 From the same authority we learn that N. Tooley performed "Forobo^f"^"-" ^-*-"'» nf ^*Jon of the dialogue of the 
 play, as it now stands, is given to such a character, though ' 
 "Ant. Who keeps the >" 
 Rod. Forobosco. 
 Ant. Let him h 
 This passage shows that he was one of the a 
 
 o 
 
THE DUCHESS OF MALFL 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCEXE I.* 
 Enter Antonio and Delio. 
 Belio. You are welcome to your country, dear 
 Autonio ; 
 You have been long in France, and you return 
 A very formal Frenchman in your habit : 
 How do you like the French court ? 
 
 Ant. I admire it : 
 In seeking to reduce both state and people 
 To a fix'd order, their judicious king 
 Begins at home ; quits first his royal palace 
 Of flattering s-ycopbants, of dissolute 
 I And infamous persons, — which he sweetly terms 
 ' His master's master-piece, the work of heaven ; 
 ■iisidering duly that a prince's court 
 ^^ like a common fountain, whence should flow 
 I Pure silver drops in general, but if t chance 
 
 tSome curs'd example poison't near the head, 
 , Death and diseases through the whole land spread. 
 '. ud what is't makes this blessed government 
 t, a most provident council, who dare freely 
 •arm him the coniiption of the times ? 
 ough some o'the court hold it presumption 
 , To instruct princes what they ought to do, 
 \ It is a noble duty to inform them " ^ 
 'i "What they ought to foresee. — Here comes. Bosola, 
 The only court-gall ; yet I observe his railing 
 lOt for simple love of piety : 
 '^.eed, he rails at t hose thin gs w hich he want s ; 
 . >uld be _ag . lech£rous,.jCQietauSr ojuproud, 
 -ijloody:, or eimnuH, as any-man, - 
 I If he had-xaeans to be so.— ^Here_|s thj^^rdjnaL 
 
 Enter Cardi^fU and Bosol;* ; 
 Bos. I do haunt you still. \ 
 
 Oai'd. So. 
 Bos. I have doyie you better service than to be 
 
 * Scene /.] Malfl. , The presence-chamb sr in the palace 
 of the Duchess.' 
 
 slighted thus. Miserable age, where only the 
 reward of doing well is the doing of it ! 
 
 Card. You enforce your merit too much. 
 
 Bos. I fell into the galleys in your service; 
 where, for two years together, I wore two towels 
 instead of a shirt, with a knot on the shoulder, 
 after the fashion of a Roman mantle. Slighted 
 thus ! I will thrive some way : black-birds fatten 
 best in hard weather ; why not I in these dog- 
 days 1 
 
 Ccird. Would you could become honest ! 
 
 Bos. With all your divinity do but direct me 
 the way to it. I have known many travel far for 
 it, and yet return as arrant knaves as they went 
 forth, because they caii-ied themselves always 
 along with them. [Exit Cardinal.] Are you 
 gone] Some fellows, they say, are possessed 
 with the devil, but this great fellow were able to 
 possess the greatest devil, and make him worse. 
 
 Ant. He hath denied thee some suit) ( 
 
 Bos. He and his brother are like plum-trees 
 that grow crooked over standing-pools ; they are 
 rich and o'er-laden with fruit, but none but crows, 
 pies, and caterpillars feed on them. Could I be 
 one of their flattering panders, I would hang on 
 their ears like a horseleech, till I were full, and 
 then drop oS". I pray, leave me. Who would 
 rely upon these miserable dcpendancies, in ex- 
 pectation to ^ arlvanced to-morrow 1 what crea- 
 ture '^.er fed wors.? than hoping Tantalus? nor 
 ever died any man more fearfully than he that 
 hoped for a pardon. There are rewards for hawks 
 and dogs when they have done us service ;* but 
 for a soldier that hazards his limb^-m a battle, 
 nothing but a kind of geometry 
 portation. 
 
 llK-^l; 
 
 * dogs when they have done vs tervice^ Tue 4to. of ici3, 
 ''dogges, and when they haue done vs scmice," 
 
 a word having dropt out, or having been puiposely 
 omitted. 
 
CO 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFL 
 
 hdio. Geometrj' ! 
 
 Bob. Ay, to hong in a fair pair of Blings, take 
 his latter swing in the world upon an honourable 
 pair of crutches, from hospital to hospital. Fare 
 ye well, sir : and yet do not you acorn us ; for 
 places in the court are but like beds in the 
 hospital, where this man's head lies at that mans 
 foot, and so lower and lower. [Exit. 
 
 Del. I knew this fellow seven years in the 
 galleys 
 For a notorious murder ; and 'twas thought 
 The cardinal subom'd it : he was releas'd 
 By the French general, Gaston do Foix. 
 When he recover'd Naples. 
 
 Ant. 'Tis great pity 
 He Bhould bo thus neglected : I have heard 
 Ho's very valiant. This foul melancholy 
 \\\\\ poL-ion all his goodness; for, PU tell you, 
 If too immoderate sleep be truly said 
 To be an inward rust unto the soul, 
 It tlici) <loth follow want of action 
 BrtMciH all black malcontents; and their close 
 
 rearing, 
 Uko moths in cloth, do hurt for want of wearing. 
 Ddio. The presence gins to fill : you promis'd 
 mo 
 To make me the partaker of the natures 
 Of some of your great courtici-s. 
 
 Ant. The lord cardinal's, 
 And othtT htnin|,'or»' that are Jiow in court ! 
 I shall, litre euijics the great Culabrian duke. 
 
 Bmtrr FiuinuiAicD, Cabtmoccio, Bilvio, Roukiuoo, 
 Uhiholax, on<J Att<!U>Iaiit«. 
 
 Ferd. Who took the ring oftenest ? * 
 
 Sd. AnUniio IJulogna, n»y lord. 
 
 Perd. Our ni«ter duche«»i' great-mastor of her 
 bouacbold ! give him the jewel. — When Mhall we 
 laavo thi* Hportivo action, and fall to action 
 iudood F 
 
 ' '■•' Mcthinks, my lonl.you xhould not doairo 
 war in |>orNou. 
 
 I <<<t Now for »omo prarity :— why, my lonl .' 
 
 I 'tul. It ia fitting a * A.W^r ariae to b« o prince, 
 but not nocoMMO^' a prince diviccud to Ih> a 
 aip(«in. 
 
 /',./. Noi 
 
 (',iir. No, my l<>rd ; ho w««r«» fur In'tfor d"+ it 
 by a d«|ntly. 
 
 Ferd. Why ahould he not as well sleep or eat 
 by a deputy 1 this might take idle, ofiFensive, and 
 base ofiBce from him, whereas the other deprives 
 -him of honour, 
 
 C<ut. Believe my experience, that realm is never 
 long in quiet where the ruler is a soldier. 
 
 Ferd. Thou toldest me thy wife could not 
 endure fighting. 
 
 Cast. True, my lord. 
 
 Ferd. And of a jest she broke of a captain she 
 met full of wounds : I have forgot it. 
 
 Cast. She told him, my lord, he was a pitiful 
 fellow, to lie, like the children of Ismael, all in 
 tents.* 
 
 Ferd. Why, there's a wit were able to undo all 
 the cliirurgeons o'the city; for although gallants 
 should quarrel, and had di-awn their weapons, 
 and were ready to go to it, yet her persuasions 
 would make them put up. 
 
 Catt. That she would, my lord, — How do you 
 like my Spanish gennet ? 
 
 Rod. He is all fire. 
 
 Ferd. I am of Pliny's opinion, I think he was 
 begot by the wind;t he runs as if he were 
 ballassed with quick -silver. 
 
 Silvio. True, my lord, he reels from the tilt 
 often. 
 
 Rod. Oris. Ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 Fird. Why do you laugh ? methinks you thai 
 fere courtiers should be my touch-wood, take fire 
 (when I give fire; that is, laugh [but] when I 
 laugh, were the subject never so witty. 
 
 C'«J>^ True, my lord : I myself have heanl a 
 very good jest, and have scorned to seem to have 
 80 silly a wit as to understand it, 
 
 Ftrd. But I can laugh at your fool, my lord. 
 
 Cast. Ho ciumot speak, you know, but ho 
 makes faces : my lady caimot abide liim. 
 
 Ferd. No! 
 
 Cast, Nor endure to be in merry company ; 
 for alio Bays too much laughing, and too much 
 company, (ills her too full of the wrinkle. 
 
 • t., r.v. (jjy tht rhiMrtn qf Ima^, dU <M UMt$] Uiddleton 
 
 liiui till IS |iiin ; 
 
 "All I 'lit i>f tho Book of 8unri>r>'. 
 
 IV I .Ivo, iiuil litt yuu all in Imtt, 
 
 Ijl. viot'lcrn." 
 
 .W..rr /' . » Womm,— ITorhi, ill. 685, ed. Dyoe. 
 
 Ill ■•< < ' roll of.iVvt, or other niatorlul, uaod 
 
 III Koni ■ I. ■ \ 
 
 • ' . '.-■ I I ~. < 1 • <)-, 
 
 lUv tUm, MfUtUt Mtt* 
 
 iliuii, iiiijiio it.irtuiii t.i'ii. fl git(iii |Kiui- 
 not trWniiliiin vita- im'i oxcodow." HUl. 
 t..iii II. |.. '.'y^ od. Dolpli. 
 
C^or-eP^^ 
 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 Ferd. I would, then, have a mathematical 
 instrument made for lier face, that she might 
 not laugh but" of r ■ - \ shall shortly visit 
 
 you at Milan, Lor- 1 
 
 iSUvio. Your grace shall ai'rive most welcome. 
 
 Ferd. You are a good horseman, Antonio : you 
 have excellent riders in France : what do you 
 think of good horsemanship ? 
 
 Ant. Nobly, my lord : as out of the Grecian 
 horse issued many famous princes, so out of 
 brave hoi"semanship arise the fii-st sparks o^ 
 growing resolution, that raise the mind to nobld 
 action. 
 
 Fei'd. You have bespoke it worthily. 
 
 Silvio. Your brother, the lord cardinal, and 
 sister duchess. 
 
 Re-enter Cardinal, with Duchess, Cakiola, and Julia. 
 
 Card. Are the galleys come about ? 
 
 Gris. They are, my lord. 
 
 Ferd. Here's the Lord Silvio is come to take 
 his leave. 
 
 Delio. Now, sir, your promise : what's that 
 cardinal ? 
 I mean his temper ? they say he's a brave fellow, 
 Will play his five thousand crowns at tennis, 
 
 dance. 
 Court ladies, and one that hath fought single 
 combats. 
 
 Ant. Some such flashes supei-ficially hang on 
 him for form ; but observe his inward character : ; 
 he is a melancholy churchman ; the spring in . 
 his face is nothing but the engendering of toads; | 
 where he is jealous of any man, he lays worse • 
 plots for them than ever was imposed on Her- i 
 
 leg, for he strews in his way flatterers, panders, 
 , .elligencers, atheists, and a thousand such poli- 
 cical monsters. He should have been Pope^ but 
 instead of coming to tt.^ theprinutiveijiecencj; 
 of the ch\; ■2}?j. b'5 -did-bBstpw bribes so lar gely 
 and so iiiip'j.deatly afl if. -he w-tuidiiaYaxaouifiiiit. 
 away without_heaverJa jcnowle dge. _Saaifi_£Qcul 
 
 hshjih-cLoii* — —- 
 
 Delio. You have gi' en too much of him. What's 
 
 his brother ] 
 Ant. The duke -here • a most perverse and 
 turbulent nf ture : 
 What appears in b m mirth is merely outside ; 
 If he laugh hearti. y, it is to laugh 
 All honesty out of fashion. 
 
 tongues, and hears men's- 
 
 With others' ears ; will seem to sleep o'the bench 
 Only to entrap offenders in their answers ; 
 Dooms men to death by information ; 
 Rewards by hearsay. 
 
 Delio. Then the law to him 
 Is like a foul black cob-web to a spider, — 
 He makes it his dwelling and a prison 
 To entangle those shall feed him. 
 
 Ant. Most true : 
 He never pays debts unless they be shrewd 
 
 turns. 
 And those he will confess that he doth owe. 
 Last, for his brother there, the cardinal, 
 They that do flatter him most say oracles 
 Hang at his lips ; and verily I believe them, 
 _For the devil speaks in them. 
 But for their sister, the right noble duchess. 
 You never fix'd your eye on three fair medals 
 Cast in one figure, of so difierent temper. 
 For her discourse, it is so full of rapture, 
 You only will begin then to be sorry 
 ^Mien she doth end her speech, and wish, '1 
 
 wonder, 
 She held it less vain-gloiy to talk much. 
 Than your penance to hear her : whilst she 
 
 speaks. 
 She throws upon a man so sweet a look, 
 That it were able to raise one to a galhard 
 That lay in a dead palsy, and to dote 
 On that sweet countenance ; but in that look 
 There-speaketh so divine a continence 
 As cuts off all lascivious and vain hope". 
 Her days are practis'd in such noble virtue, 
 That sure her nights, nay, more, her very slect-- 
 Are more in heaven than other ladies' shrifts. 
 Let all sweet ladies break their flattering glasses. 
 And dress themselves in her. 
 
 Delio. Fie, Antonio, 
 You play the wire-drawer with her commenda- 
 tions. 
 
 A7it, I'll case the picture up: only thus much; 
 All her particular worth grows to this sum, — 
 >>he stains the time pa.st, lights the time to come.* 
 
 Cari. You must^^attend my lady in the gallerj"-. 
 Some half an hour hence. 
 
 Ant. I shall. [Exeunt Antonio and Delio. 
 
 Ferd. Sister, I have a suit to you. 
 
 Duch. To me, six- ? 
 
 Ferd. A gentleman here, Daniel de Bosola, 
 One that was in the galleys 
 
 Duch. Yes, I know him. 
 
 * 5^ gtaim the time pa-it, lightB the time to - .v^tcj •;u 
 again our author in his Monumental Column, &c. : 
 " Stain the time past, and light the tinie to come." 
 
 -^ 
 
i;l' 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Ftrd. A worthy fellow he is: pray, let m0 
 
 entreat for 
 The provisorship of your horse. 
 
 Duch. Your knowledge of him 
 Commends him and prefers him. 
 
 Perd. Call him hither. [EjcU Attendant. 
 
 We [are] now upon parting. Goo<i Lord Silvio, 
 Do us commend to all our noble friends 
 At the leagTJcr. 
 
 Silvio. Sir, I shall. 
 
 Fcrd. You are for Milan ? 
 
 Silvio. I am. 
 
 Duck. Bring the caroches. — We'll bring you 
 down to the imren. 
 [£t«ifiii DucbcM, Silvio, C'ASTRCcao, Roderigo, Gbiso- 
 Lax, Cariola, Julia, and AtUsudauts. 
 
 Card. Be sure you entertain that Bosola 
 For your intelligence : I would not be seen in't ; 
 And therefore many times I have Blighted him 
 When he did court our furtherance, as this 
 morning. 
 
 I'crd. Antonio, the great-master of her house- 
 hold. 
 Had been far fitter. 
 
 Card. You are deceiv'd in him : 
 Hi- ii.it iiro is too honest for such business. — 
 He L;...:d : I'll leave you. \^Ejnt. 
 
 Reenter Dosola. 
 flui. I was lur'd to you. 
 
 Ferd. My brother, here, the cardinal could 
 never 
 Al'ide you. 
 
 Ji'H. Never since he was in my debt. 
 Ferd. May be some obliiiuo character in your 
 (itc« 
 Matte him suspect you. 
 
 J}o4. Dolii ho htudy physiognomy 7 
 Thore's uo more credit to bo given to the face 
 Than to n c i.-k man's urine, which some call 
 ' ' whore because she co2«uh him. 
 
 H- 'mo wrongfully. 
 
 /'trti. Kor tliut 
 You iiiuiit j^ivo great moa luTO to take their 
 
 times. 
 Diatrust dolh cause us seldom bo deceiv'd : 
 You M« the ofl (hitking of the codurtrcu 
 Piut«os it Wore at ro<jt. 
 Boa, Yet, take hrcHi ; 
 p. , • 
 li. 
 
 'y 
 
 Ui.^«l\» |uU. 
 
 iipoct you, 
 
 What follows f never rain'd such showers as these 
 Without thunderbolts ithe tail of them : whose 
 throat must I cut f 
 Ferd. Your inclination to shed blood rides post 
 Before my occasion to use you. I give you that 
 To live i'the court here, and observe the duchess ; 
 To note all the particulars of her haviour,* 
 AVTiat suitors do solicit her for marriage. 
 And whom sho best affects. She's a young 
 
 widow : 
 I would not have her maiTy again. 
 Bos. No, sir 1 
 
 Ferd. Do not you ask the reason ; but be 
 satisfied 
 I say I would not. 
 
 Bos. It seems you would create me 
 One of your familiars. 
 
 Ferd. Familiar ! what's that ] 
 Bos. Why, a very quaint invisible devil in 
 flesh,— 
 An intelligencer. 
 
 Ferd. Such a kind of thriving thing 
 I would wish thee ; and ere long thou mayst 
 
 arrive 
 At a higher place by't. 
 
 Bos. Take your devils. 
 Which hell calls angels : these curs'd gifts would 
 
 make 
 You a corrupter, mc an impudent tnulo£^ 
 And should I take these, they'd tak« ma [to] 
 hell. 
 Ferd. Sir, I'll take nothing from you that I 
 have given : 
 There is a place that I procur'd for you 
 This morning, the provisorship o'the horse ; 
 Have you htard on'tl 
 Bos. No. 
 
 Ferd. "Tis yowre : is't not worth thanks ? 
 But. I would have you curso yourself now, 
 that your bounty 
 (Which makes u-ni truly noble) e'er should 
 
 moke me 
 A villain. 0, that to avoid lugi-atitude 
 tVor the good deed you have done me, I must do 
 All the ill man can invent ! Thus tiie devil 
 (.'.mdios all Kins o'er ; and wh^ heaven terms vile, 
 Tl.iit names he complimental.V 
 Ferd, Be yourself; \ 
 
 Keep your old gaib of melalcholy ; 'twill i x- 
 
 
 • kn^mtr\ Tho 4to, of 1040. "W., 
 t tomtMmmlal] Or " nrnfAemoil 
 li«tuiititu( (o oocuiDjauhtiiouU. 
 
THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 63 
 
 You envy those that stand above your reach, 
 Yet strive not to come near 'em : this will 
 
 gain 
 Access to private lodgings, where j'ourself 
 
 May, like a politic dormouse 
 
 Bos. As I have seen some 
 Feed in a lord's dish, half asleep, not seeming 
 To listen to any talk ; and yet these rogues 
 Have cut his throat in a dream. What's my 
 
 place 1 
 The provisorship o'the horse ? say, then, my 
 
 corruption 
 Grew out of horse-dung : I am your creature. 
 Ferd. Away ! 
 
 Bos. Let good men, for good deeds, covet good 
 fame, 
 Since place and riches oft are bribes of shame : 
 
 Sometimes the devil doth preach. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Re-enter Duchess, Cardinal, and Cakiola. 
 Card. We are to part from you ; and your own 
 discretion 
 Must now be your director, 
 
 Ferd. You are a widow : 
 You know already what man is ; and therefore 
 Let not youth, high promotion, eloquence 
 
 Card. No, 
 Nor any thing without the addition, honour. 
 Sway your high blood. 
 
 Ferd. Marry ! they_are m^stljixuripvis.* 
 VYiU wed twice. 
 
 Card. 0, fie~! 
 
 Ferd. Their livers are more spotted 
 Than Laban's sheep. ' 
 
 Duch. Diamonds are of most value. 
 They say, that have pass'd through most jewel- 
 lers' hands. 
 
 Ferd. Whores by that rule are precious. 
 
 Duch. Will you hear me ? 
 I'll never marry. 
 
 Card.f So most widows say ; 
 But commonly that motion lasts no longer 
 Than the turning of an hour-glass : the funeral 
 
 sermon 
 And it end both togethei-. 
 
 Ferd. Now hear me : 
 You live in a rank pasture, here, i'the court ; 
 There is a kind of honey-dew that's deadly ; 
 'Twill poison your fame; look to't : be not 
 
 cunning ; 
 For they who?' ""^oes do belie their hearts 
 
 * luxv 
 
 t c 
 
 tinent. 
 gives, by mistake, this speech 
 
 Are witches ere they arrive at twenty years. 
 Ay, and give the devil suck. 
 
 Buch. This is terrible good counsel. 
 Ferd. Hypocrisy is woven of a fine small 
 thread. 
 Subtler than Vulcan's engine : * yet, believe't, 
 Your darkest actions, nay, your privat'st thoughts, 
 Will come to light. 
 
 Card. You may flatter yourself, 
 And take your own choice ; privately be married 
 Under the eves of night — 
 
 Ferd. Think't the best voyage 
 That e'er you made; like the irregular crab. 
 Which, though't goes backward, thinks tliat it 
 
 goes right 
 Because it goes its own way : but observe, 
 Such weddings may more propei'ly be said 
 To be executed than celebrated. 
 
 Card. The marriage night 
 Is the entrance into some prison. 
 
 Ferd. And those joys, 
 Those lustful pleasures, are like heavy sleeps 
 Which do fore-run man's mischief. 
 
 Card. Fare you well. 
 Wisdom begins at the end : remember it. \^Exit. 
 Duch. I think this speech between you both 
 was studied, 
 It came so roundly off. 
 
 Ferd. You are my sister; 
 This was my father's poniard, do you see ? 
 I'd be loth to see.'t look rusty, 'cause 'twas his. 
 I would have you give f, o'er these chargeable 
 
 revels : 
 A visor and a mask are whispering-rooms 
 That were' never built for goodness; — fare ye 
 
 well;— 
 And women like that part which, like the 
 
 lamprey. 
 Hath never a bone in't. 
 Duch. Fie, sir ! 
 Ferd. Nay, 
 I mean the tongue ; variety of courtship : 
 What cannot a neat knave with a smooth tale 
 Make a woman believe ? Farewell, lusty widow. 
 
 iExit. 
 Duch. Shall this move me 1 If all my royal 
 kindred 
 Lay in my way unto this marriage, 
 I'd make them my low footsteps : and even now, 
 Even in this hate, as men in some great battles. 
 By apprehending danger, have achiev'd 
 
 * Vulcan's enginel i. e. the net in which he caught Mars 
 and Venus. 
 
 t give'] The-lto. of 1623, "^ogiue." 
 
C4 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 I Almost impoaaible actions (I bavo beard soldiers 
 ' say BO), 
 
 ISo I through frigltt« and threatenings will assay* 
 This dangerous veuture. Let old wives report 
 I I wink'd and chose a bunband. — Cariola, 
 I To thy known secrecy I have given up 
 — More than my life. — my fame. 
 I Cari. Both shall be safe ; 
 
 For I'll conceal this secret from the world 
 As warily as those that trade in poison 
 Keep poison from their cliildren. 
 j Duch. Thy protestation 
 
 Is ingenious f and hearty : I believe it. 
 Is Antonio come ? 
 
 Cari. He attends you. 
 Duch. Good dear soul, 
 Leave me ; but jtlace thyself behind the arras, 
 Where thou mayst overhear us. Wish me good 
 
 speed; 
 For I am going into a wilderness 
 I Where I shall find nor* path nor friendly clew 
 To be my guide. 
 
 [Cabiola goti behind the arrat. 
 
 hnlrr Akto.SIO § 
 
 I sent for you : sit down ; 
 Take i>cn an<l iuk, and write : are you ready ] 
 Ant. Ves. 
 
 JJucL What did I say ) 
 I A nt. Thitl I khould write somewhat. 
 I Ihuh. 0, I remember. 
 
 After theiioll triumplis and this largo expense, 
 ' It's fit, like thrifty husbands, we inquire 
 I What'n laid up fur to-morrow. 
 
 A nt. Ko please your beauteous excellence. 
 JJuch. I}«autoous ! 
 Indeed, I thank you : I look young for your sake ; 
 Tou liuve ta'en my cures upon you. 
 
 Ani. I'll fetch your grace 
 The itarticulam of your revenue and expense. 
 1 htirh. < >, v<>u nvf 
 
 Iq perfect memory), and, I pray, sir, tell me, 
 Were not one better make * it smiling, thus, 
 Than in deep groans and terrible ghastly looks, 
 As if the gifts wo parted with procur'd 
 That violent distraction ? t 
 
 Anl. 0, much better. 
 
 Duch. If I had a husband now, this care were 
 quit : 
 But I intend to make you overseer. 
 What good deed shall we first remember? say. 
 
 Ant. Begin ^with that first g ood dee d began 
 i' the world J, 
 After man's creation, the s acrame nt of marriage: 
 I'd have you first § provide for a good husband ; 
 Give him all. 
 
 Duch. All! 
 
 Ant. Yes, your excellent self. 
 
 Duch. In a winding-sheet ? 
 
 Ant. In a couple. 
 
 Duch. Saint Winifred, that were a strange will ! 
 
 Ant. 'Twere stranger || if there were no will in 
 you 
 To marry again. 
 
 Duch. What do you think of marriage ? 
 
 Ant. I take't, as those that deny purgatory, 
 It locally contains or heaven or hell ; 
 There's no third place in't. 
 
 Duch. How do you aflFect it ? 
 
 ^ji^ J[y banishment, feeding my melancholy. 
 Would often reason thu.s. 
 
 Duch. Pniy, let's hear it. 
 
 A nt. Say a man never many, nor have children. 
 What takes that from him? only the bun' 
 ' name 
 
 Of being a fatlier, or the weak delight 
 To see the little wanton ride a-cock-horse 
 Upon a painted stick, or hear him chatter 
 Like a taught starling. 
 
 Duch. Fie, fie, what's all this ! 
 One of your eyes is blood-shot; use my ring to't, 
 Thoy say 'tis very sovereign: 'tww my wetiii: 
 nnrr. 
 
 \ uu uavp pnrtixi with it now. 
 / Yes, to bolj> your eye-eight 
 A tr. Vou liRTo made mo ittark blind. 
 
 re to lioaifiiM 
 
 I «-■ 
 
 ■iliMnuiioH." 
 I The 4to. of 1 
 til' woriJ." 
 
 <V«.J lLw<>:. 
 

 SCENE I. 
 
 '■A 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF 5L4LFI. 
 
 65, 
 
 — y 
 
 Ant. There is a saucy and ambitious. devil 
 Is dancings in ^is^u'cle. 
 Duch, Remove him. 
 Ant. How? 
 
 Diich. There needs small conjuration, when 
 your finger 
 May do it : thus; is it fit 1 
 
 [S7i« puts the ring upon hu finger : he kneels. 
 
 Ant. What said you ? 
 
 Duch. Sir, 
 This goodly roof of yours is too low built ; 
 I cannot stand upright in't nor discourse, 
 Without I raise it higher : raise yourself; 
 Or, if you please, my hand to help you : so. 
 
 [^Raises him. 
 
 Ant. Ambition, madam, is a great man's mad- 
 ness, 
 That is not kept in chains and close-pen t-rooms,' 
 But in fair lightsome lodgings, and is girt 
 With the wild noise of prattling visitants, 
 Which makes it lunatic beyond all cure, 
 fconceive not I am so stupid but I aim 
 'Whereto your favours tend : but he's a fool 
 That, being a-cold, would thrust his hands i'the 
 
 fire 
 To warm them. 
 
 Duch. So, now the ground's broke. 
 You may discover what a wealthy mine 
 I make you lord of. 
 
 Ant. O my imworthiness ! 
 Duch. You were ill to sell yourself: 
 This darkening of your worth is not like that 
 Which tradesmen use i'the city ; their false 
 
 lights 
 Are to rid bad wares off : and I must tell you, 
 Tif you will * know where breathes a complete man 
 (I spe^ it without flattery), turn your eyes, 
 And progress through yourself. 
 ~ Ant. Were there nor heaven nor hell, 
 Jl should be honest : I have long serv'd virtue,. 
 vAnd ne'er t a'en wages of her. '~* "^ """^ 
 f^ Duch. Now she pays it. 
 
 The misery of us that are born great ! 
 ' We are forc'd to woo, because none dare woo us ? 
 1 And as a tyrant doubles with his words. 
 
 And fearfully equivocates, so we 
 '. Are forc'd to express our violent passions 
 In riddles and in dreams, and leave the path 
 Of simple virtue, which was never made 
 To seem the thing it is not. Go, go brag 
 You have left me heartless ; mine is in your 
 
 V i bosom : 
 
 '^,,,, ^.^ . 
 
 * icill] The 4to. of 1640, "would." 
 
 I hope 'twill multiply love there. You do 
 
 tremble : 
 Make not yom' heart so dead a piece of flesh. 
 To fear more than to love me. Sir, be confi-, 
 
 dent : 
 What is't disti'acts you ? This is flesh and blood, 
 
 sir; 
 'Tis not the figure cut in alabaster 
 Kneels at my husband's tomb. Awake, awake, 
 
 man ! 
 I do here put off all vain ceremony. 
 And only do appear to you a young widow 
 That claims you for her husband, and, like a 
 
 widow, 
 I use but half a blush in't. 
 
 Ant. Tinith speak for' me ; [ 
 
 I will remain the constant sanctuary 
 Of your good name. 
 
 Duch. I thank you, gentle love : 
 And 'cause you shall not come to me in debt, 
 Being now my steward, here upon your lips 
 I sign your Quietus est. This you shoiild have 
 
 begg'd now : 
 I have seen children oft eat sweetmeats thus, • 
 As fearful to devour them * too soon. 
 Ant. But for your brothers ? 
 Duch. Do not think of them : 
 All discord without this circumference 
 Is only to be pitied, and not fear'd : 
 Yet, should they know it, time will easily 
 Scatter the tempest. 
 
 Ant. These words should be mine, 
 And all the parts you have spoke, if some part 
 
 of it 
 Would not have savour'd flattery. 
 
 Duch. Kneel. 
 
 [Cariola comes from behind the arras-. 
 
 Ant. Ha! 
 
 Duch. Be not amaz'd; this woman's of my 
 counsel : 
 I have heard lawyers say, a contract in a chamber 
 Per verba presenti is absolute marriage. 
 
 [Site and Antonio hned. 
 
 Bless, heaven, this sacredgordian^ which let 
 
 violence 
 Never untwine ! 
 ~"^nt. And may our sweet affections, like the 
 
 spheres, 
 Be still in motion J 
 
 Du^h. Quickening, and make 
 The like soft music ! 
 
 * I have seen children oft eat sweetmeats thui!. 
 As fearful to devour themi Occurs again verbatim in 
 Appius and Virginia, A. I. S. 1. 
 
CG 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Ant. Tliat we may imitate the loving palms,* 
 Best emblem of a peaceful murriigo, 
 That nerer bore fruit, diviilo<l ! 
 
 Duck. What c;in tl>o church force more? 
 
 Ant. Tliat fortune may not know au accident, 
 Either of joy or Borrow, to divide 
 Our CxJ;d wishes ! 
 
 Duch. How can the church build faster f 
 We now are man and wife, and 'tis the church 
 That must but echo this.— Maid, stand apart : 
 I now am blind. 
 
 Ant. Wfiafs your conceit in this? 
 
 Duch. I would have you lead your fortune by 
 the hand 
 
 Unto your marriage-bed : 
 
 (You speak in me this, for we now are one :) 
 
 We'll only lie, and talk together, and plot 
 
 To appease my humorous kindred; and if you 
 
 please, 
 Like the old tale in Alexander and Lodowick 
 Liiy a naked sword between us, keep us cha^t. . 
 O, let me shrowd my blushes in your bosom, 
 Since 'tis the treasury of all my secrets ! 
 
 [Extunt DccHESS and Aktosio. 
 
 Curi. WTiether the spirit of greatness or of 
 woman 
 Reign most in her, I know not ; but it shows 
 < I ▲ fearful madness: I owe her much of pity. [L'j-U. 
 
 ACT 11. 
 
 SCENE I.t 
 Bntrr Bosola ami CASTRUeno. 
 Hot. You say you would fain be taken for an 
 eminent courtier? 
 
 Cast. 'Tis the very main of my ambition. 
 
 Iht. Let me see : you have a rc:iaouablo good 
 
 fi-o fort already, and your night-cap expresses 
 
 ;. rir ears •uffjeieut largely, I would have you 
 
 ■ irn t') twirl the strings of your baud with a 
 
 I- i:id iu a set speech, at the end of 
 
 ' 1; ■», to hum three or four times, or 
 
 ll'iw your no«o till it smart again, to recover 
 
 '. "iir memory. When you come to bo a president 
 
 I criniiual caiuc*, if you smile upon a prisoner, 
 
 ■ 'iin; but if you frown upon him and 
 
 I him, let him bo sure to Bca]>e the 
 
 I would bo n vi»ry merry president. 
 
 t-.j ,. 
 
 ' -I ImUate tht lovinff ptUms, Ao.] Oomparo a 
 >:k^t) uf aupllioniu ; 
 
 " O Arifaliis, I tluiiU'lit 
 
 Bos. Do not sup o 'nights ; 'twill begot you an 
 admirable wit. 
 
 Cast. Rather it would make me have a good 
 stomach to quarrel ; for thej* say, your roaring 
 boys + eat meat seldom, and that makes them bo 
 valiant. But how shall I know whether tho 
 people take mo for an eminent fellow ? 
 
 Bos. I will teach a trick to know it : give out 
 you lie a-dyiug, and if you hear the common 
 I ^leople curse you, be sure you are taken for oue 
 j of the prime nii;ht-caps.+ 
 
 JiHter an Old Ijidy. 
 You come from painting now. 
 
 Old Lady. From what? 
 
 Bos. Why, from your scurvy face-physic. To 
 behold tlieo not painted inclines somewhat near 
 a miracle : these in thy face hero wore deep ruts 
 
 * LUm iht old taU in AUxander and LodoKiel] T>.' 
 Tiea Fitilhful Friemh, the pleatnnt irmtnry of JlrxunAr 
 <iii<l Lodtiicl-t, tp/iii teerf «n Id* OM nnnthtr, that mmu cMt/il 
 
 1 Un4»<^«|w hn« Urn •pn** 
 
 of the 
 
 ihr I'rinrtBMf, IttniHte hf ^MHld not Hrong hit friend, in 
 
 p»l>riiit<yl (fixim the Pepy« CuUectton) in Ev;m!i'* Old 
 
 '. yi>l. i. p. 77. oil. 1810. Tbi'i. > 1'la.v 
 
 1 l>y Martin SlmiKlitor. onlloil A /'>•'<>• 
 
 . i!io nutlii){ of which |-i noN'cnil tliu' ,ii.nia..iio<l in 
 
 llou»|.iw«<"ii JHarn : but It m-vor wiu pniitol. 
 
 ♦ rnflnri,; ^,.y^J X nvilt tlTIU fur fh« lllr. lonl blood* Mu\ 
 
 I ho tlino, witiwo duliKl)t wiu to aMMI '''>" 
 iiihabltjinla of tbo •<n)il(ji1. by ^titlf linir 
 
 :i .': 1 .».^il>teoec«P'"ii«. 
 
 1 i^MlU l>f ■111- 
 
 . -\ ■ II. r-.-. 1. 
 
 " AnxNignahunl or iwann of rooktu(r N4^;-«fi|tf " 
 
^o-^^- 
 
 SCEXE I. 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFL 
 
 67 
 
 aud foul sloughs tlie last progress.* There was 
 a lady in France that, having had the small-pox, 
 flayed the skin off her face to make it more level ; 
 and -whereas before she looked like a nutmeg- 
 grater, after she resembled an abortive hedge-hog. 
 Old Lady. Do you call this painting? 
 Bos. No, no, but you call [it] careening of an 
 old morphewed lady, to make her disembogue 
 again : there's rough-cast phrase to your plastic. 
 
 Old Lady. It seems you are well acquainted 
 with my closet. 
 
 Bos. One would suspect it for a shop of witch- 
 craft, to find in it the fat of serpents, spawn of 
 snakes, Jews' spittle, and their young children's 
 ordure ; and all these for the face. I would sooner 
 eat a dead pigeon taken from the soles of the 
 feet of one sick of the plague, than kiss one of 
 -ou fasting. Here are two of you, whose sin of 
 our youth is the very patrimony of the phy- 
 sician; makes him renew his foot-cloth f with 
 the spring, and change his high-priced courtezan 
 vith the fall of the leaf. I do wonder you do 
 lot loathe youx'selves. Observe my meditation 
 low. 
 
 vVhat thing is in this outward form of man 
 Co be belov'd ? We account it ominous, 
 f nature do produce a colt, or lamb, 
 ^ fawn, or goat, in any limb resembling 
 V man, and fly from 't as a prodigy : 
 Man stands amaz'd to see his deformity 
 u any other creature but himself, 
 jut in our own flesh though we bear diseases 
 \Vhich have their true names only ta'en from 
 
 beasts, — 
 As the most ulcerous wolf and swinish measle, — 
 Though we are eaten up of lice and worms. 
 And though continually we bear about us 
 A rotten and dead body, we delight 
 To hide it in rich tissue : all our fear, 
 Nay, all our terror, is, lest our physician 
 Should put us in the ground to be madei sweet. — 
 Your wife's gone to Rome : you two couple, and 
 get you to the wells at Lucca to recover your 
 aches. I have other work on foot. 
 
 [Exev.rit CASTRaccio and Old Lady. 
 I observe our duchess 
 
 Is sick a-days, she pukes, her stomach seethes, 
 e fins of her eye-lids look most teeming 
 blue,J 
 
 ■ rogreis] See note t, P- 9- 
 ikes him renew his foot-doihl i. e. enables him to 
 w housings for his horse (or mule). 
 fins of her eye-lids looh most teyming Mu£] So in 
 ■ontent, Act 1. Sc. I. ; " till the fin of /«> et/cs look 
 s the welkin." 
 
 She wanes i'the cheek, and waxes fat i'the flank, 
 
 And, contrary to our Italian far^hion, 
 
 AYeai-s a loose-bodied gown ; there's somewhat 
 
 in't. 
 I have a trick may chance discover it, 
 A pretty one ; I have bought some apricocks. 
 The first our spring yields. 
 
 Eater Axioxio and Det.io. 
 
 Delio. And so long since married ! 
 You amaze me. 
 
 Ant. Let me seal your lips for ever : 
 For, did I think that any thing but the air 
 Could caiTy these words fi-om you, I should wish 
 You had no breath at all.— Now, sir, in your 
 
 contemplation ? 
 You are studying to become a gi-eat wise fellow. 
 Bos. 0, sir, the opinion of wisdom is a foul 
 tetter * that runs all over a man's body : if sim- 
 plicity direct us to have no evil, it directs us to 
 a happy being ; for the subtlest folly proceeds 
 from the subtlest wisdom : lei jne. be simply 
 honfisL 
 
 Ant. I do understand your inside. 
 Bos. Do you so 1 
 
 Ant. Because you would not seem to appear to 
 the world 
 PufF'd up with your preferment, you continue 
 This out-of-fashion melancholy : leave it, leave it. 
 
 Bos. Give me leave to be honest in any phrase, ■, 
 in any compliment whatsoever. Shall I confess * 
 myself to you 1 I look no higher than I can . 
 reach : they are the gods that must ride on 
 winged horses. A lawyer's mule of a slow pace 
 will both suit my disposition and business ; for, 
 mark me, when a man's mind rides faster than ' 
 his horse can gallop, they quickly both tire. 
 Ant. You would look up to heaven,t but I 
 think 
 The devil, that rules i'the air, stands in your light. 
 Bos. 0, sir, you are lord of the ascendant, 
 chief maiTwith the duchess ; a diike was your ^ 
 cousin^german i-emoved. Say you were _liaeally 
 descended from King Pepin, or he himself what 
 of this ? search the heads of the greatest rivers 
 in"tEelv6Hd, you shall find them but bubbles of 
 water. Some would think the souls of princes 
 were brought forth by some more weighty cause 
 than those of meaner persons : they are deceived, 
 =^^— ^-— ^ V 
 
 * tetter'] The 4to. of 1640, "terror." 
 t Tou would look up to heaven, &c.] So our author 
 again in Tlie Demi's Law-case, Act V. S. 5 : 
 
 " AVhile they aspire to do themselves most right, 
 The devil, that rules i' the air, hangs in their light." 
 
 F 2 •» 
 
03 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 there's tho same hand to them ; the like paMions 
 sway them ; the same reason that makre a vicar 
 to go to law for a tithe-pig, and undo his neigh- 
 bours, makes them spoil a whole province, and 
 baiter down goodly cities 'with the cannon. 
 
 BiUer DucnEW and Ladies. 
 Duch. Your arm, Antonio : do I not grow fat? 
 I am exceeding short-winded, — Bosola, 
 I would have you, isir, provide for me a litter ; 
 SuclPa one aa the Duchess of Florence rode in. 
 Bot. The duchess us'd one when she was great 
 
 with child. 
 Duch. I think she did.— Come hither, mend 
 my rutT: 
 Hero, wiion ?* thou art such a tedious lady ; and 
 Thy breath smells of lemon-pills : would thou 
 
 hadiit done ! 
 Shall I swoon luider thy fingers? I am 
 So troubled with the mother 1 1 ^ ' "^ 
 Bos. [<uid<.] I fear too much. ^ 
 DucL I have hoard you say that the French 
 courtiers 
 Wear their hats on 'fore the king. 
 A nt. I have seen it. 
 Duch. In the presence' 
 An^. Yes. 
 
 Duch.t Why should not we bring up that 
 I fuihiou 1 
 
 Til ceremony more than duty that consists 
 Id the removing uf a piece of folt : 
 Bo you the example to the rest o' tho court ; 
 Put on your hat first 
 
 Ant. You must {uirdon me: 
 I have seen, in colder countries than in Franco, 
 Noblen stand bare to the prince ; and the dis- 
 tinction 
 j Meihou;"!!! show'd r«Torcntly. 
 
 Doi. I Imvo a proNont for your gnuo. 
 D%u:h. Fur me, air 1 
 /<o*. Apricocks, madam. 
 Uutk. O, sir, whtro are tliey ? 
 I havo hoard of uouo to-year. 
 
 Hot. [<uid<.] (Jood ; her colour rises. 
 
 IhtcK. Iiul«oJ, 1 thank you : they are wondroua 
 
 fair f;!ii-ii. 
 
 ^^ ' is our (rardanor I 
 
 ^^- luouth. 
 
 Mm, Will not your gr»M p«ro thom 1 
 
 .ilun uri»|«u«>n (Tvry eummoo In 
 
 ( (A> w4..r] t o, hydoH' Hi |«Ml<in. 
 1 r*r. *o 1 TliU •i«wli U Ktvoit bjr iiiUUke In the 
 Ibiw wHlMi 4b« luAuiuulu, 
 
 Duck. No : they taste of musk, metbinks ; in- 
 deed they do. 
 Boa. I know not : yet I wish your grace had 
 
 par'd 'em. 
 Duch. Why ? 
 
 Bos. I forgot to tell you, the knave gardener, 
 Only to raise his profit by them the sooner. 
 Did ripen them in horse-dung. 
 
 Duch. O, you jest. — 
 You shall judge : pray, taste one. 
 
 Ant. Indeed, madam, 
 I do not love the fruit. 
 
 Duch. Sir, you are loth 
 To rob us of our dainties : 'tis a delicate fruit ; 
 They say they are restorative. 
 
 Bot. 'Tis a pretty art, 
 This grafting. 
 
 Duch. 'Tis so ; bettering of nature. 
 Bo$. To make a pippin grow upon a crab, 
 Adamson oua black-thom. — {Asidc.'\ Howgreedily 
 
 she eats them ! 
 A whirlwind strike off these bawd farthingales ! 
 For, but for that and the loose-bodied gown, 
 I should have discover'd apparently 
 The young spriugal cutting a caper in her 
 ' belly. 
 Duch. I thank you, Bosola : they were right 
 good ones. 
 If they do not make me sick. 
 Ant. How now, madam ! 
 
 Duch. This green fruit and my stomach are 
 not friends : 
 How they swell me ! 
 
 Jios. [orufe.] Nay, you are too much swell'd 
 
 already. 
 Duch. 0, I am in an extreme cold sweat ! 
 Boa. I am very sorry. 
 
 Duch. Lights to my chamber! — good A u- 
 tonio, 
 I fear I am undone ! 
 
 Delia. Lights there, lights ! 
 
 [Kxrunt Ducu&sa and Liulioa.— itciV, on tJU other n>tt, 
 UosoLA. 
 
 Aut. my most* trusty Delio, we aro lost ! 
 I fear she's fall'n in labour ; and there's left 
 No time for her remove. 
 
 Delio. Have you pivpar'd 
 TIkiso hidiua to attend her J and procur'd 
 That politic safe conveyance for tho midwife 
 Your durhusM plotted I 
 
 Ant. I have. 
 
 lki%0. Make um, then, of this forc'd occasion : 
 Qiv« out tliat Boula hath poiaon'd h«r 
 
 • eMo*f j Uiiiltt«<l 111 tbo 4to. of 1040. 
 
THE DUCHESS OF MALFL 
 
 69 
 
 With these apricocks ; that will give some colour 
 For her keeping close. 
 
 Ant. Fie, fie, the physicians 
 Will then flock to her. 
 
 Delio. For that you may pretend 
 She'll use some prepar'd antidote of her own, 
 Lest the physicians should re-poison lier. 
 
 Ant. I am lost in amazement: I know not what 
 to think on't. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II.* 
 Miter BosOLA. 
 Bos, So, so, there's no question but her techi- 
 ness f and most vulturous eating of the apricocks 
 are apparent signs of breeding. 
 
 Enter an Old Lady. 
 Now? 
 
 Old Lady. I am in haste, sir. 
 
 Bos. There was a young waiting-woman had a 
 monstrous desire to see the glass-house — 
 
 Old Lady. Nay, pray, let me go. 
 
 Bos. And it was only to know what strange 
 instrument it was should swell up a glass to the 
 fashion of a woman's belly. 
 
 Old Lady. I will hear no more of the glass- 
 house. You are still abusing women 1 
 
 Bos. Who, I? no; only, by the way now and 
 then, mention your frailties. The orange-tree 
 bears ripe and green fruit and blossoms all 
 together; and some of you give entertainment 
 for pure love, but more for more precious reward. 
 The lusty spring smells well; but drooping 
 autumn tastes well. If we have the same golden 
 showers that rained in the time of Jupiter the 
 thunderer, you have the same Daniles still, to 
 hold up their laps to receive them. Didst thou 
 never study the mathematics ? 
 
 Old Lady. What's that, sir 1 
 
 Bos. Why, to know the trick how to make a 
 many lines meet in one centre. Go, go, give your 
 foster-daughters good counsel : tell them, that 
 the devil takes delight to hang at a woman's 
 girdle, like a false rusty watch, that she cannot 
 discern how the time passes. \_Exit Old Lady, 
 
 Enter Antonio, Eoderigo, and Gkisolan. 
 Ant. Shut up the court-gates. 
 Rod. Why, sir 1 what's the danger 1 
 Ant. Shut up the posterns presently, and call 
 All the officers o'the court. 
 
 * Scene 7/.] A hall in the same palace. 
 
 t techiness] The 4tos. "teatchiues" a.iid. " teatcldves." 
 
 Gris. I shall instantly. [Exit. 
 
 Ant. Who keeps the key o'the park-gate 1 
 Rod. Forobosco. 
 Ant. Let him bring't presently. 
 
 Re-enter Grisolan with Servants. 
 
 First Serv. O, gentlemen o'the court, the foulest 
 treason ! 
 
 Bos. [aside.} If that these apricocks should be 
 poison'd now. 
 Without my knowledge ! 
 
 First Serv. There was taken even now a Switzer 
 in the duchess' bed-chamber-— 
 
 Second Se7"V. A Switzer ! 
 
 First Serv. With a pistol in his great cod-piece. 
 
 Bos. Ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 First Serv. The cod-piece was the case for't. 
 
 Second Serv. There was a cunning traitor : who 
 would have searched his cod-piece 1 
 
 First Serv. True, if he had kept out of the 
 ladies' chambers: and all the moulds of his 
 buttons were leaden bullets. 
 
 Second Serv. wicked cannibal ! a fire-lock 
 in's cod-piece ! 
 
 First Serv. •'Twas a French plot, upon my life. 
 
 Second Serv. To see what the devil can do ! 
 
 Ant. [Are] all the officers here 1 
 
 Servants. We are. 
 
 Ant. Gentlemen, 
 We have lost much plate you know; and but 
 
 this evening 
 Jewels, to the value of four thousand ducats. 
 Are missing in the duchess' cabinet. 
 Are the gates shut ? 
 
 Serv. Yes, 
 
 Ant. 'Tis the duchess' pleasure 
 Each officer be lock'd into his chamber 
 Till the sun-risiug ; and to send the keys 
 Of all their chests and of their outward doors 
 Into her bed-chamber. She is very sick. 
 
 Rod. At her pleasure. 
 
 Ant. She entreats you take't not ill : the 
 innocent 
 Shall be the more approv'd by it. 
 
 Bos. Gentleman o'the wood-yard, where's your 
 Switzer now ? 
 
 First Serv. By this hand, 'twas credibly re- 
 ported by one o'the black guard.* 
 
 [Exeunt all except Aktonio and Delio. 
 
 Delio. How fares it -with the duchess ? 
 Ant. She's expos'd 
 Unto the worst of torture, pain and fear. 
 Delio. Speak to her all happy comfort. 
 
 * black guaru] See note *, p. 8. 
 
'0 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 ACT TL 
 
 " To duiuil 
 
 Aud, for 
 > p\d fi ien 
 
 A}U. How I do play tbo fool with intoe own 
 
 d.iDger ! 
 You aro this niglit, dear friend, to post to Rome : 
 My life lies in your «ervice. 
 Ddio. Do not doubt me. 
 
 ^ nU 0, 'tis far from mo : and yet fear presents 
 / nio 
 
 rfomewliat that looks like danger. 
 * Jklio. Believe it, 
 'Tis but the shadow of your fear, no more : 
 How fiui)er8titiouhly we mind our evils ! 
 The throwing down salt, or cros.-ing of a hare. 
 Bleeding at nose, the stumbling of u horse, 
 Or liingiii^' of a cricket, are of power 
 " Tp daunt whole man in us. Sir, fare you well : 
 ou all the joys of a bless'd father ; 
 , for my fHilh, lay this unto your breast, — 
 icnds, like old sword;;, still are trusted best. 
 
 [ExU. 
 Entrr Carioi.a. 
 t'ari. Sir, you aro the happy father of a son : 
 Your wife commends him to you. 
 
 Ant. Blci>8Ld comfort I-- 
 For heaven' sake tend her well : I'll presently 
 Go act a figure for 'a nativity. [Kieunt. 
 
 SCENE III.» 
 
 Knter Domula, tritJi a i/uri lanUm. 
 
 Bot. Sur« I di<l hear a woman shriek : lint, ha ! 
 And tiio sound came, if I receiv'd it right. 
 From the duchcW lodgings. There's some 
 
 stratoccm 
 III t' - all our courtiers 
 
 '1 ■ war<lM : I iimht huvo part of it ; 
 
 M ;. "•l«f. LiHt, ugiiin ! 
 
 1". . lioly bird, 
 
 Ileal (iii-nd of ■ilcrtiuu uud uf solitariuosn, 
 Thf owl, that m reiuu'd so. — Ha I Antonio ! 
 
 ; trr Aktokio. 
 1 'if. I licnrd some uoim. — Who's then f what 
 
 ail thuul speuk. 
 /lot. Ant^iuio, put not your face nor body 
 T.i •111 I. a forc'd oxprnaiduu of fear: 
 I I .1*. your friond. 
 .< - ' ' - 
 
 < >ig doM undormino w«.— Huord 
 
 I Ut« Miino lailodi. 
 
 AnL From the duchess' lodging. 
 
 Bo$. Not I : did you ? 
 
 Ant. I did, or else I dream'd. 
 
 Hot. Let's walk towards it. 
 
 Ant. No : it may be 'twas 
 But the rising of the wind. 
 
 Bot. Very likely. 
 Methinks 'tis very cold, and yet you sweat : 
 You look wildly. 
 
 Ant. I have been setting a figure 
 For the duchess' jewels. 
 
 Boa. Ah, and how falls your question ? 
 Do you find it radical ? 
 
 Ant. What's that to you? 
 'Tis rather to be question'd what design, 
 When all men were commanded to their lodging.-, 
 Makes you a night-walker. 
 
 Bos. In sooth, I'll tell you : 
 Now all the court's asleep, I thought the devil 
 Had least to do here ; I cam§ to say my p rayers : 
 And if it do offend you I do so, 
 You are a fine courtier. 
 
 .471/. [aside.] This fellow will undo m& — 
 You gave the duchess apricocks to day : 
 Pi-ay heaven they were not poison'd I 
 
 Bos. Poison'd ! a Spanish fig 
 For the imputation. 
 
 Ant. Traitors are ever confident 
 Till they aro dlscover'd. There were jewels 
 
 stol'u too : 
 In my conceit, none are to be suspected 
 More than youi-self. 
 
 Bos. You are a false steward. 
 
 Ant, Saucy slave, I'll pull thee up by tho 
 roots. 
 
 Bos. May be the ruin will crush you to pieces. 
 
 Ant. You aro an impudent snake indeed, sir : 
 Aro you scai-oo waim, and do you show your 
 
 sting ? 
 You libol well, sir. 
 
 Bot. No, sir : copy it out, 
 And 1 will set my hand to't. 
 
 Ant. [asulf.] My nose bloods. 
 One that wore s\ipoi"8titio\iB woidd count 
 This ominous, when it merely comes by chance ; 
 Two luttors, that are wrote hero for n>y name, 
 Aro druwn'd in blood ! 
 Mere accident.— For you, sir, I'll tnko oitler 
 I'tho mom you hhidl be safe :— (a»iV/f,] 'tis that 
 
 must colour 
 Her lying-in :— ulr, this door yo»i pass not : 
 I do not hold it fit that you come near 
 Tho dnnhr-.' lodgiiign, till you have quit your- 
 
''^-, 
 
 ^J 
 
 mA***^^ 
 
 /v 
 
 1^^': 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF ;i!HALFI. 
 
 1 
 
 / 
 [Aside.] The great are like tlie base^^najj jthej 
 
 are the_saine, 
 When thej seek shameful jvajs_to_avo id shame. 
 ~ "' " """lExit. 
 
 Bos. Antonio hereabout did drop a paper : — 
 Some of your help, false friend : — 0, here it is. 
 What's here ? a child's nativity calculated ! _ 
 
 — — ■"' \Reads. 
 
 The dtichess was delivered of a son, 'tween the 
 hours twelve and one in the night, Anno Dom. 
 1504," — that's this year — "decimo nono Decern- 
 hris," — tliat's this night, — " tal'en according to the 
 meridian of Malfi," — that's our duchess : happy 
 discovery ! — " The lord of the first house icing 
 combust in the ascendant, signifies sho7't life ; and 
 Mars ieing in a human sign, joined to the tail of 
 the Dragon, in the eighth house, doth threaten a 
 violent death. Ccetera non scrutantur." 
 "Wliy, now 'tis most apparent : this precise fellow 
 Is the duchess' bawd : — I have it to my wish ! 
 This is a parcel of intelligency 
 Our courtiers were cas'd up for : it needs must 
 
 follow 
 That I must be committed on pretence - 
 Of poisoning her ; which I'll endure, and laugh at. 
 If one could find the father now I but that 
 Time will discover. Old Castruccio 
 I'the morning posts to Rome : by him I'll send 
 A letter that shall make her brothers' galls 
 O'erfiow theu' livers. This was a thrifty way. 
 5 Though lust do mask in ne'er so strange disguise, 
 I She's oft found witty, but is never wise. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE IV.* 
 
 En^er Cardinal and Julia. 
 
 Card. Sit : thou art my best of wishes. Pi'ithee, 
 tell me 
 What trick didst thou invent to come to Eome 
 Without thy husband 1 
 
 Julia. Why, my lord, I told him 
 I came to visit an old anchorite 
 Here for devotion. 
 
 Card. Thou art a witty false one, — ■ 
 I mean, to him. 
 
 Julia. You have prevail'd with me 
 Beyond my strongest thoughts : I would not now 
 Find you inconstant. 
 
 Card. Do not put thyself 
 To such a voluntary torture, which proceeds 
 Out of your own guilt. j 
 
 '' ^cene iF.] Eome. 
 the Cardinal. 
 
 An apartment in the piilfif-e 
 
 Jidia. How, my lord ! 
 
 Card. You fear 
 My constancy, because you have approv'd 
 Those giddy and wild turnings * in yourself. 
 
 Julia. Did you e'er find them? 
 
 Card. Sooth, generally for women, 
 A man might strive to make glass malleable, 
 Ere he should make them fixed. 
 
 Julia. So, my lord. 
 
 Card. We had need go borrow that fantastic 
 glass 
 Invented by Galileo the Florentine 
 To view another spacious world i'the moon. 
 And look to find a constant woman there. 
 
 Julia. This is very well, my lord. 
 
 Card. Why do you weep? 
 Are tears your justification? the self-same tears 
 Will fall into your husband's bosom, lady, 
 With a loud protestation that you love him 
 Above the world. Come, I'll love you wisely, 
 That's jealously ; since I am very certain 
 You cannot make me + cuckold. 
 
 Julia. I'll go home 
 To my husband. 
 
 Card. You may thank me, lady, 
 I have taken you oflP your melancholy perch. 
 Bore you upon my fist, and show'd you game, 
 And let you fly at it. — I pray thee, kiss me. — 
 When thou wast with thy husband, thou wast 
 
 watch'd 
 Like a tame elephant : — still you are to thank 
 
 me : — 
 Thou hadst only kisses from him and high feeding; 
 But what delight was that? 'twas just like one 
 That hath a little fingering on the lute. 
 Yet cannot tune it : — still you are to thank me. 
 
 Julia. You told me of a piteous wound i'the 
 heart 
 And a sick liver, when you woo'd me first. 
 And spake like one in physic. 
 
 Card. Who's that?— 
 
 Enter Servant. 
 Rest firm, for my aifection to thee, 
 Lightning moves slow to't. 
 
 Serv. Madam, a gentleman, 
 'That's come post from Malfi, desires to see you. 
 Card. Let him enter : I'll withdraw. [Exit. 
 Serv. He says 
 Your husband, old Castruccio, is come to Eome, 
 Most pitifully tir'd with riding post. [Exit. 
 
 tvrnings\ Both the earliest 4tos. "turning." 
 "yheme] The4to. of 1623, "me make." 
 
V2 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF AL\LFI. 
 
 ACT IL 
 
 Enter Deuo. 
 Julia [aside]. Siguier Delio ! 'tis one of my oUl 
 
 Buitors. 
 Delio. I waa bold to come and noe you.* 
 Julia. Sir, you arc welcome. 
 Udio. Do you Ho here? 
 Julid. Sure, your own experience 
 Will satisfy you no : t our Roman prelates 
 Do not keep lodging for ladies. 
 
 Delio. Very well : 
 I have brought you no commendations from your 
 
 husband. 
 For I know none by him.t 
 
 Julia. I hear he's come to Rome. 
 DUio. I never knew man and beast, of a horse 
 and a knight, 
 So weary of each other : if he had had a good back, 
 Ho would have undertook to have borne his horse. 
 His breech wa« ho i>itifully sore. 
 
 Julia. Your laughttr 
 Is my pity. 
 
 Delio. Lady, I know not whether 
 You want money, but I have brought you some. 
 Julia. From my husband ? 
 Delio. No, from mine own allowance. 
 Julia. I njust hear the condition, ere I be bound 
 
 to take it. 
 Iklio. Look on't, 'tis gold : hath it not a fine 
 
 colour 1 
 Julia. I have a bird more beautiful. 
 Delio. Try the sound on't. 
 Julia. A lute string for exceeds it: 
 It bath no ■moll, like cjissia or civet; 
 Nor is it phyifical, though some fuid doctors 
 Ponuade ux scethu't § in culliseK.H I'll toll you, 
 Thin is a creature bred by 
 
 lU fiittr Burviint. 
 Serr, Your husband's oomo, 
 Ilath deliver'd a letter to the Duke of Calabria 
 That, to my thinking, Imlh put him out of his wits. 
 
 [KxU. 
 Julia. Sir, you hoar : 
 I'liv, l-t mo know your bu«iii< tm uiki jour suit 
 A> ' ! .. ''.y OH cnn bo. 
 
 <MU< «M yoMj TUe 4lo. of IMO, ' flM<< ooiue to 
 
 III. ■ 
 
 •UHM of 
 
 Ao(« f. r 
 I ' 
 
 1. 
 
 . (Ill* *oeiia, I liavo let tlio 
 
 I 111 Uio olii iHijiloa, (limiuli 
 
 ohaa hanUy FMbi like vonw. Hoe 
 
 <iry broth of 
 
 - • i-i~'im: tlic olu 
 
 -u rpeenmtaud "|4oom uI uoW Mnotitf t^i 
 
 Ddio. With good speed : I would wish you. 
 At guch time as you ai-e non-resident 
 With your husband, my mistress. 
 
 Julia. Sir, I'll go ask my husband if I shall, 
 And straight return your answer. {Exit. 
 
 Ddio. Very fine ! 
 Is this her wit, or honesty, that speaks thus? 
 I heard one say the duke was highly mov'd 
 With a letter sent from Malfi. I do fear 
 Antonio is betray'd : how fearfully 
 Shows his ambition now ! unfortunate fortune! 
 )They pass through whii-1-pools, and deep wo es do 
 
 shun, 
 [Who th e event w eigh ergJih&ACtion's done. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE V,* 
 Enter Cardiual, and Ferdinand vith a letter. 
 
 Ftrd. I have this night digg'd up a mandrake. 
 
 Card. Say you ? 
 
 Fred. And I am grown mad with't.f 
 
 Card. What's the prodigy ? 
 
 Fred. Read there, — a sister damn'd : she's loose 
 i'tho hilts ; 
 Grown a notorious strumpet. 
 
 Card. Speak lower. 
 
 Fcrd. Lower! 
 Rogues do not whisper't now, but seek to publish't 
 (As servants do the bounty of their lords) 
 Aloud ; and with a covetous searching eye, 
 To mark who note them. 0, confusion seize ter I 
 She hath had most cunning bawds to serve her 
 
 turn, 
 And more secure conveyances for lust 
 Than towns of garrison for service. 
 
 Card. Is't possible ? 
 Cim this be certain ] 
 
 Ferd. Rluibarb, O, for rhubarb 
 To purge this choler ! hero's the cul•8^d day + 
 To prompt my memory ; and here't shall stick 
 Till of her bleeding heart I miJio a sponge 
 To wipe it out. 
 
 Card. Why do you make yourself 
 So wild a tempest ? 
 
 Frrd. Would I could be one. 
 That I might toHs her palace 'bout her ears, 
 
 * .Voir t'.] Aiiothorniiurtiuout in tboMuuopalaoo. 
 \ Ihavr-' .. - .. . ., 
 
 An<i I ShMkoK|<oarc ; 
 
 "Ami mIm ; ,1 thoeartli. 
 
 That Uwitty muHnjj htartm^ thrm run maJ." 
 
 Homto ami Jutitt, A. IV. R. 3. 
 t ll.e funM ifan] I. o. on whloU the DurhoMhnd Iwon 
 clollviiwl of n noil,— »oi down 111 tho lottor aeut froui 
 Iku^la 
 
THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 73 
 
 Root up her goodly forests, blast her meads, 
 And lay her general territory as waste 
 As she hath done her honoui's. 
 
 Card. Shall our blood, 
 The royal blood of Arragon and Castile, 
 Be thus attainted ? 
 
 Ferd. Apply desperate physic : 
 We must not now u*b balsamum, but fire, ^ 
 
 The smarting cupping-glass, for that's the mean 
 To purge infected blood, such blood as hers. 
 There is a kind of pity in mine eye, — 
 I'll give it to my handkercher; and now 'tis here, 
 I'll bequeath this to her bastard. 
 
 Card. What to do ] 
 
 Ferd. Why, to make soft lint for his mother's 
 wounds, 
 AVhen I have hew'd her to pieces. 
 
 Card. Cursed creature ! 
 Unequal nature, to place women's hearts 
 So far upon the left side ! 
 
 Ferd. Foolish men. 
 That e'er will trust their honour in a bark 
 Made of so slight weak bulrush as is * woman. 
 Apt every minute to sink it ! 
 
 Card. Thus 
 Ignorance, when it hath purchas'd honour. 
 It cannot wield it. 
 
 Ferd. Methinks I see hex- laughing, — 
 Excellent hyena ! Talk to me somewhat quickly. 
 Or my imagination will caiTy me 
 To see her in the shameful act of sin. 
 
 Card. With whom 1 
 
 Ferd. Happily with some strong-thigh'd barge- 
 man. 
 Or one o'the wood-yard that can quoit the sledge 
 Or toss the bar, or else some lovely squire 
 That cames coals up to her privy f lodgings. 
 
 Card. You fly beyond yo\ir reason. 
 
 Ferd. Go to, mistress ! 
 
 I'Tis not your whore's milk that shall J quench my 
 wild-fire, 
 But your whore's blood. 
 
 Card. How idly shows this rage, which carries 
 
 you, _ ' 
 
 * is] The 4to. oi\UO,"this." 
 
 t pricy] Theito. of 1640, "private." 
 
 X shall] The4to. of 1640, "can." 
 
 As men convey'4 by witches Ihrough the air, 
 Onviolent whUiwiuds ! this intemperate noise 
 Fitly resembles deaf men's shrill discourse, 
 Who talk aloud, thinking all otherjaen 
 ToTiave their imperfection. 
 
 Ferd. Have not you 
 My palsy 1 
 
 Car-d. Yes, [but] I can be angry 
 Without this rupture : * there is not in nature 
 A thing that makes man so deform'd, so beastly. 
 As doth intemperate anger. Chide yourself. 
 You have divers men who never yet express'd 
 Their strong desire of rest but by unrest. 
 By vexing of themselves. Come, put yourself 
 In time. 
 
 Ferd. So I will only study to seem 
 The thing I am not. I could kill her now. 
 In you, or in myself ; for I do think 
 It is some sin in us heaven doth revenge 
 By her. 
 
 Card. Are you stark madi 
 
 Fei-d. I would have their bodies 
 Burnt in a coal-pit with the ventage stopp'd. 
 That their curs'd smoke might not ascend to 
 
 heaven ; 
 Or dip the sheets they lie in in pitch or 
 
 sulphur. 
 Wrap them in't, and then light them like a match ; 
 Or else to-boil their bastai'd to a cullis,+ 
 And give't his lecherous father to renew 
 The sin of his back. 
 
 Card. I'll leave you, 
 
 Fei-d. Nay, I have done. 
 I am confident, had I been damn'd in hell, 
 And should have heard of this, it would have put 
 
 me 
 Into a cold sweat. In, in ; I'll go sleep. 
 Till I know who leaps my sister, I'll not stir : 
 That known, I'll find scorpions to stiingj my 
 
 whips. 
 And fix her in a general eclipse. [Fxe^tnt. 
 
 * rupture] If right, means — ^breaking forth into pas- 
 sion: but qy. "raptm-e," — transport, violent emotion? 
 t cullis] See note 1|, p. 72. 
 I strinp] The4to. of 1640, "sting." 
 " Lest with a vrhip of scorpions I piirsue 
 Thy lingering." Milton's Par. Lost, ii. 701. 
 
THE DUCHESS OF MALFL 
 
 ACT ill. 
 
 ACT 111. 
 
 SCENE !.• 
 Shltr AsTosio aii<f Dklio. 
 
 A tit. Our noblo fiieud, uiy most belovt-d Dclio ! 
 O, you have beeu a stranger long at court : 
 Caiue you along with tho Lord Ferdinand .' 
 
 Delia. I did, sir: and how fares your noble 
 d\ichcs8 ? 
 
 Ant. Right fortunately well : she's an excellent 
 Feeder of jicdigrees ; fcince you last saw her, 
 Sb« Ixath had two children more, a son and 
 daughter. 
 
 Delia. Methinks 'twas yesterday : let me but 
 wiuk, 
 And not behold your face, which to mine eye 
 Is somewhat leaner, verily I should dream 
 It were within this half hour. 
 
 AnL You have not bt-in in law, friend Delio, 
 Nor in prison, nor a suitor at tho court. 
 Nor bepg'd the rcvei'siou of some gieat man's 
 
 )>lace, 
 Nor troubled with an old wife, which doth make 
 Your tiuio DO iuBcuitibly hai^ten. 
 
 Dclio. I'ray, »ir, tell uie, 
 Ilntli not thiji news arriv'd yet to the cai* 
 Of the lord cardinal ? 
 
 Ant. I fear it hath : 
 The Lord Ferdinand, that's newly come to court, 
 Doth bear himsolf right dangerously. 
 
 JJtlio. Pray, why T 
 
 Ant. Ko ut HO quiet that ho seems to sleep 
 The tcui|>c»t out, na dormice do in winter : 
 ThoM houkcH th.it are haunted are uiost still 
 Till the duvil bu up. 
 
 Julio. What Huy tho common |>coplo f 
 j Ant. Tlx- loiiiiiion rubble do diitjotly say 
 
 lAvcr IiAadi 
 
 Would amend it, if she could ; for, say they, 
 Great princes, though they grudge their officers 
 Should have such large and unconfiufed means 
 To get wealth under them, will not complain, 
 Lest thereby they should make them odious 
 Unto the people : for other obligation 
 Of love or marriage between her and me 
 They never dream of. 
 
 Delio. The Lord Ferdinand 
 Is going to bed. 
 
 EiUer Duchess, Ferdinand, and Attendauts. 
 
 Ferd. I'll instantly to bed. 
 For I am weary. — I am to be^'peak 
 A husband for you. 
 
 Duih. For me, sir ! pray, who is't / 
 
 Fod. The great Count MalatestL 
 
 Duch. Fie upon him ! 
 _A count ! he's a mere stick of sugar-candy ;(• 
 You may look quite thorough him. When I choose 
 A husband. I will mairy for your honour. 
 
 Ferd. You shall do well in't — How Ls't, worthy 
 Antonio 1 
 
 Duch. But, sir, I am to have private conference 
 with you 
 About a scandalous report is spread 
 Touching mine honour. 
 
 Ferd. Let mc be ever deaf to't : 
 One of Pasquil's paper-bullets, court-calumny, 
 A pestilent air, which princes' palaces 
 Are seldom piu-g'd of. Yet say that it were true, 
 I poiu- it in your bosom, my fix'd lovo 
 AVould strongly excuse, extenuate, nay, deny 
 Faults, were they appiuent in you. Go, bo safe 
 In your own innucenoy. 
 
 they? 
 
 si'\ Dcuo, UK!* Att«ndAUta. \ 
 
 FtU. lid 
 
 i'jf.Lunung couUvi.-. 
 
 ikAtarda, but 
 
^€>v-'- V^^ <> 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 75 
 
 Ferd. Why, some 
 Hold opinion all things are written there. 
 
 Bos. Yes, if we could find spectacles to read 
 them. 
 I do suspect there hath been some sorcery 
 Us'd on the duchess. 
 
 Ferd. Sorcery ! to what purpose ? 
 
 Bos. To make her dote on some desertless fellow 
 She shames to acknowledge. • 
 
 Ferd. Can your faith give way \ 
 
 To think there's power in potions or in charms, 
 To make us love whether we will or no 1 
 
 Bos. Most certainly. 
 
 Ferd. Away ! these are mere guUeries, horrid 
 things, 
 Invented by some cheating mountebanks 
 To abuse us. Do you think that herbs or 
 
 charms 
 Can force the will ? Some trials have been made 
 In this foolish practice, but the ingredients 
 Were lenitive poisons, such as are of force 
 To make the patient mad ; and straight t^ie 
 
 witch \ 
 
 Swears by equivocation they are in love. 
 The witch-craft lies in her rank blood. This 
 
 night 
 I will force confession from her. You told me j 
 You had got, within these two days, a false key 
 Into her bed-chamber. 
 
 Bos. I have. 
 
 Ferd. As I would wish. i 
 
 Bos. What do you intend to do ? i ■ 
 
 Ferd. Can you guess 1 ; 
 
 Bos. No. 
 
 Ferd. Do not ask, then : 
 He that can compass ^•n'^; p"d know Tr»y .^li-jF^^g 
 May say he hath put a girdle ']ioutJihe.jxQrld,* 
 And sounded all her^CLuicJ^sands. 
 
 Bos. I do not 
 Think so. 
 
 Ferd. What do you think, then, pray 1 
 
 Bos. That you are 
 Your own chronicle too much, and gi'ossly 
 Flatter yourself. 
 
 Ferd. Give me thy hand ; I thank thee : 
 I never gave pension but to flattei-ers, 
 Till I entertained thee. Farewell. 
 That friend a great man's ruin strongly checks, 
 Who rails into his belief all his defects. [^Exeunt. 
 
 * May say he hath put a girdle 'bout the icorld] So 
 Shakespeare ; 
 
 " VMput a gird'e round about the earth." 
 
 Midsummer-night's Dream, Act II. Sc. 2. ; on wtich pas- 
 sage see Steevens's note 
 
 SCENE IL* 
 Ente /[DvcB^ss, Antonio, and Cakiola. 
 
 Buck. Bring me the casket hither, and the 
 glass. — 
 You get no lodging here to-night, my loi'd. 
 
 A7it. Indeed, I must persuade one. 
 
 Duch. Very good : 
 I hope in time 'twill grow into a custom, 
 That noblemen shall come with cap and knee 
 To purchase a night's lodging of their wives. 
 
 Ant. I must lie here. 
 
 Duch. Must ! you are a lord of mis-rule. 
 
 Ant. Indeed, my rule is only in the night. 
 
 Duch. To what use will you put me ? 
 
 Ant. We'll sleep together. 
 
 Duch. Alas, 
 What pleasure can two lovers find in sleep ! 
 
 Cari. My lord, I lie with her often ; and I know 
 She'll much disquiet you. 
 
 Ant. See, you are complain'd of. 
 
 Can. For she's the sprawliug'st bedfellow. 
 
 Ant. I shall like her the better for that. 
 
 Cari. Sir, shall I ask you a question ? 
 
 Ant. Ay, pray thee, Caiiola. 
 
 Cari. AVherefore still, when you lie with my 
 lady, 
 Do you rise so early ? 
 
 Ant. Labouring men 
 Count the clock oftenest, Cariola, 
 Are glad when their task's ended. 
 
 Duch. I'll stop your mouth. [Kisses Mm. 
 
 Ant. Nay, that's but one ; Venus had two soft 
 doves 
 To draw her chaiiot ; I must have another. — 
 
 \_She kisses him again. 
 
 When wilt thou marry, Cariola ? 
 
 Cai'i. Never, my lord. 
 
 Ant. 0, fie upon this single life! forgo it. 
 We read how Daphne, for her peevish t flight, 
 Became a fruitless bay-tree ; Syrinx turn'd 
 To the pale empty reed; Anaxarete 
 Was frozen iato marble : whereas those 
 Which married, or prov'd kind unto their fiiends. 
 Were by a gracious influence transhap'd 
 Into the olive, pomegranate, mulberry. 
 Became flowers, precious stones, or eminent stars. 
 
 Cari. This is a vain poetry : but I pray you, 
 tell me, 
 If there were propos'd me, wisdom, riches, and 
 
 beauty, 
 In three several young men, which should I choose. 
 
 * Scene JI.] The bed-chamber of the Duchess in the 
 same. 
 I peevish] i. e. foolish. 
 
76 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFL 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Ant. 'Tis a hard question: this was Paris' case. 
 And bo was blind in't, and there was great cause ; 
 For bow was't possible he could* judge right. 
 Having three amorous goddesses in view, 
 And they stark naked ? 'iw,\B a motion 
 Were able to benight the apprehension 
 Of the severest counsellor of Europe. 
 Now I look on both your faces so well form'd, 
 It puts mo in uiind of a question I would ask. 
 
 Cari. What is't ? 
 
 Ant. I do wonder why hard-favour'd ladies, 
 For tha most part, keep worse-favour'd waiting- 
 women 
 To attend them, and cannot endure fair ones. 
 
 Duch. 0, that's soon answer'd. 
 Did you ever in your life know an ill painter 
 Desire to have his dwelling next door to the shop 
 Of an excellent picture-maker? 'twould disgrace 
 His face-making, and undo him. I prithee, 
 1— When were wo eo+ merry] — My hair tangles. 
 
 Ant. Pray thee, Cariola, let's steal forth the 
 room, 
 And let her talk to herself: I have divers times 
 Ser^''d her the like, when she hath * chaf'd 
 
 extremely. 
 I love to see her angry. Softly, Cariola. 
 
 [Rzeunt Antonmo and Cariola. 
 
 Dufh. Doth not tho colour of my hair gin to 
 change 1 
 When I wtnrgfay, I shall have all the court 
 Powdor their hair with an-aB,§ to bo like me. 
 You have cause to love me ; 1 enter'd you || into 
 
 my heart 
 Before you would vouchsafe to call for the keys. 
 
 Ktttrr FKnDIKANO hrhind. 
 
 Wo shall one day have my brothers take you 
 
 napping : 
 Mothinka his presence, being now in court, 
 I 8buuld make you keep your o\vn bed ; but you'll 
 
 (Mjr 
 Love iiiix'd wi th fear is Hwcftost. I'll assure you, 
 You khiiU j^c't no more children till my brothers 
 CuoMnt to be your goaiiips. Have you loat your 
 toni^o t 
 
 TU welcome 
 
 1 mil (indiii il l< 
 priuco. 
 ijUJck' 
 
 Virtue, where art thou hid ? what hideous thing 
 Is it that doth eclipse* thee? 
 
 Duch. Pray, sir, hear me. 
 
 Ferd. Or is it true thou art but a bare name, 
 And no essential thing ? 
 
 Diich. Sir,— 
 
 Ferd. Do not speak. 
 
 Duch. No, sir : 
 I will plant my soul in mine cars, to hear you. 
 
 Ferd. most imperfect light of human reason, 
 That maVst U8+ so \inhappy to foresee *^-^ 
 
 What we can least prevent I Pui-sue thy wishes. 
 And glory in them : there's in shame no comfort 
 But to be past all bounds and sense of shame. 
 
 Duch. I pray, sir, hear me : I am married. 
 
 Ferd. So! 
 
 Duch. Happily, not to your liking : but for that, 
 Alas, your shears do come untimely now 
 To clip the bird's wings that's already flown ! 
 Will you see my husband ? 
 
 Ferd. Yes. if I could change 
 Eyes with a basilisk. 
 
 Duch. Sure, you came hither 
 By his confederacy. 
 
 Ferd. The howling of a wolf 
 Is music to thee, screech-owl : prithee, peace. — 
 Whate'er thou art that hast enjoy'd my sister. 
 For I am sure thou hear'st me, for thine own 
 
 sake + 
 Let mo not know thee. I came hither preparM 
 To work thy discovery ; yet am now persuaded 
 \ It would beget such § violent effects 
 ; As would damn us both, I would not for ton 
 
 millions 
 I had bell eld theo : therefore use all means 
 I never may have knowledge of thy name ; 
 Enjoy thy lust still, and a wretched life. 
 On that condition. — And for thee, vilo woman. 
 If thou do wish thy lecher may grow old 
 In thy cmbraccnieuts, I would have tljce build 
 Such a room for him as our anchorites 
 To holier use inhabit. Let not the sun 
 Shine on him till he's <lead ; let dogs and monkeys 
 Duly converse with him, and such dumb things 
 To whom nature denies uso to sound liis name ; 
 1^1 not keep a jianuiuito, lest she loarn it; 
 
 . do lovo him, cut out tlmic own tongr, 
 
 1.,'Nv: 
 
 Ipt 
 
 : ' >ie ovn taXt] Tho 
 
 ' • K..r I Kill Bura Uiou Uminttt in*, for mimtvmi anke." 
 
 : .'; Tiu : • 
 
THE DUCHESS OF MALFl. 
 
 77 
 
 Duch, Why might not I marry? 
 I have not gone about in this to create 
 Any new world or custom. 
 Ferd. Thou art undone ; 
 And thou hast ta'en that massy sheet of lead 
 That hid thy husband's bones, and folded it 
 About my heart. 
 
 Duch. Mine bleeds foi-'t. 
 Ferd. Thine ! thy heart ! 
 What should I name't unless a hollow bullet 
 Fill'd with unquenchable wild-fire ? 
 
 Duch. You are in this 
 *roo strict ; and were you not my princely brother, 
 t would say, too wilful: my reputation 
 Is safe. 
 
 I Ferd. Dost thou know what reputation is 1 
 'I'll tell thee, — to small purpose, since the instmc- 
 
 tion 
 ; Comes now too late. 
 
 "Upon a time Reputation, Love, and Death. 
 Would travel o'er the world ; and it was concluded 
 That they should part, and take three several ways. 
 Death told them, they should find him in gi-eat 
 
 battles, 
 Or cities plagu'd with plagues : Love gives them 
 
 counsel 
 To inquire for him 'mongst unambitious shep- 
 herds. 
 Where dowries were not talk'd of, and sometimes 
 'Mongst quiet kindred that had nothing left 
 By their dead parents : " Stay," quoth Reputation, 
 " Do not forsake me ; for it is my nature, 
 If once I part from any man I meet, 
 , I am never found again." And so for you : 
 j You have shook * hands with Reputation, 
 And made him invisible. So, fare you well : 
 I will never see you more. 
 
 Duch. Why should only I, 
 Of all the other princes of the world, 
 Be cas'd up, like a holy relic ] I have youth 
 And a little beauty. 
 
 Ferd. So you have some virgins 
 That are witches. I will never see thee more. 
 
 [Exit. 
 Re-enter Antonio with a pistol, and Cariola. 
 Duch. You saw this appar,*ion 1 
 Ant. Yes : we are 
 Betray'd. How came he 1„ i? I Aould turn 
 This to thee, for that. 
 
 Can. Pray, sir, do ; > vh . 
 That you have clef e at .il read there 
 
 Mine innocence. 
 
 *1if>ok] Sor 
 
 1623, "shook-ecV 
 
 Duch. That gallery gave him entrance. 
 Ant. I would this terrible thing would come 
 again. 
 That, standing on my guard, I might relate 
 My warrantable love.— 
 
 [57ie shows the poniard. 
 Ha ! what means this? 
 Duch. He left this with me. 
 Ant. And it seems did wish 
 You would use it on yourself. 
 
 Duch. His action 
 Seem'd to intend so much. 
 
 Ant. This hath a handle to't. 
 As well as a point : turn it towards him. 
 And so fasten the keen edge in his rank gall. 
 
 \^Knocking within. 
 
 • How now ! who knocks 1 more earthquakes ] 
 
 Duch. I stand 
 As if a mine beneath my feet were ready 
 To be blown up. 
 
 Cari. 'Tis Bosola. 
 
 Duch. Away ! 
 misery ! methinks unjust actions 
 Should wear these masks and curtains, and not we. 
 You must instantly part hence : I have faahion'd 
 it already. [Exit Antonio, 
 
 £iiter Bosola. 
 
 Bos. The duke your brother is ta'en up in a 
 whirlwind ; 
 Hath took horse, and 's rid post to Rome, 
 
 Duch. So late 1 
 
 Bos. He told me, as he mounted into the saddle. 
 You were undone. 
 
 Duch. Indeed, I am very near it. 
 
 Bos. What's the matter ? ' 
 
 Duch. Antonio, the master of our household. 
 Hath dealt so falsely with me in 's accounts : 
 My brother stood engag'd with me for money 
 Ta'en up of certain Neapolitan Jews, 
 And Antonio lets the bonds be forfeit. 
 
 Bos. Strange \— [Aside.] This is cunning. 
 
 Duch. And hereupon 
 My brother's bills at Naples are protested 
 Against. — Call up our * of&cers. 
 
 Bos. I shall. [Exit. 
 
 Re-enter Antonio. 
 -~ Duch. The place that you must fly to is 
 Ancona : 
 Hire a house there ; I'll send after you 
 My treasure and my jewels. Our weak safety 
 
 » owrj The4to. ofl640, "<Ac." 
 
78 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 Runs upon cngiuouB wheels : * abort syllables, 
 . Must staud for periods. I tuuBt now accuse j'ou 
 
 Of euch a feigntd crime as Tasso calls 
 
 Magnanima memogna.f a noble lie, 
 ^'Cauge it must sliield our bouour^i. — Hark ! they 
 arc coming. 
 
 RtoiUr B(>»jLa and Onicci>. 
 Ant. Will your grace bear me ? 
 Ditch. I have got well by you ; you have 
 yielded mo 
 A million of loss : I am like to inherit 
 The people'n curses for your stewardship. 
 You ba<l tlie trick in audit-time to be sick, 
 1111 I liad hign'd your quietus ; and that cur'd 
 
 you 
 Without help of a doctor. — Gentlemen, 
 I would have this man be an example to you all ; 
 So shall you hold my favour ; I pray, let liim ; 
 For h'oH done that, alas, you would not think of, 
 And, because I intend to be rid of him, 
 I mean not to publirfh. — Use your fortune else- 
 where. 
 Ant. I am strongly arm'd to brook my 
 ovirthrow, 
 Ah commonly men bear with a bard year : 
 I will not blame the cause on't; but do think 
 The necessity of my malevolent Btar 
 Pn>curoB tlm, not her Immour. O, the inconstant 
 A nd rotten groun<l of service ! you may see, 
 '1'is even like biui, that in a winter night, 
 T»ki'« a long H]uml>or o'er a dying fire, 
 A-Iotli^ to jMirt from't ; yet parts thence as cold 
 As when he first sat down. 
 Duck, We do confiMcato, 
 Towardu the Katinfying of your accoun'.K, 
 All that you have. 
 
 Ant, I am all yours; and 'tis verj* fit 
 All mine should bo ho. 
 
 Jtiuh. Sf), sir, you have your j>asM. 
 Ant. You may see, gentlemen, what 'tis to 
 serve 
 A princ- with body and rtoiil. [Kril. 
 
 I ' I 1(1(0 SUluitlUltM '*IH- 
 
 ,-liioK like sn mitlHout trhtti* 
 ' ■<, Whun qf Atbplon, 1007. Big. Ct. 
 t . 
 
 *'•' ..il In a,,u>. Ill C It Bl. 29; 
 
 ' in'VSl ItAlllUI 
 
 mnuiskM " III tiiinma. 
 • oT Uio 4(u. uf )<J!W, and Um 4lo. 
 
 j Bm. Here's an example for extortion: what 
 ' moisture is drawn out of the sea, when foul 
 i weather comes, pours down, and runs into the sea 
 I again. 
 
 I Duch. I would know what arc your opinions 
 j Of this Antonio. 
 
 Sec. Off. He could not abide to see a pig's head 
 I gaping :* I thought your grace would find him a 
 Jew. 
 
 Third Off. I would you had been hisf officer, 
 j for your own sake. 
 
 Fourth Off. You would have had more money. 
 First Off. He stopped his cars with black wool, 
 and to those came to him for money said he was 
 thick of hearing. 
 
 Sec. Off. Some said he was an hermaphrodite, 
 for he could not abide a woman. 
 
 Fourth Off. How scurvy proud ho woulJi look 
 •when the trea.sury was full ! Well, let him go. 
 
 First Off. Yes, and the chippiugs of the but- 
 tery fly after him, to scour his g<)ld§ chain. 
 
 JJuch. Leave us. [Exeunt Officei-s. 
 
 What do you think of these > 
 
 Bos. That these are rogues that iu's prosperity, 
 But to have wiuted on his || fortune, could have 
 
 wisb'd 
 His dirty stirrup rivetted through their noses, 
 And follow'd after's mule, like a bear in a ring ; 
 Would have prostituted their daughters to his 
 
 lust ; 
 Made their first-born intelligencers ;TI thought 
 
 none happy 
 ButBuch as were born under his blest *• planet. 
 And wore his livery : and do these lico drop off 
 
 now? 
 Well, never look to have the like again : 
 Ho hath left a sort It of flattering rogues behind 
 
 him ; 
 Their doon» must follow. Princes pay flattorci's 
 
 * lit eoutd not abidt to »te a pig* htad gttj'ino] tio 
 lj|iikkofl|>oikr« ; 
 
 " Ah thoro l« no Ann ronsoii to l>o render 'vl 
 Why Ito canuut ahidt u ffaplmj i>ig " 
 
 Merchant of Vntice, Ai't. IV. So, I. 
 RtooveiiH, in a noto on KliyliH-k'n spoooli cltoa tlio 
 jiirjillul |iiuiiut(,ro from Wclwttr, mul iu ordor to mako It 
 rvii' ',;ku liliiiik vci-Ho InitoitH a nt inotylliililo. Shakn- 
 »,-«i.i.i'h uuiiiiiiL'iitjitoi'H aro too oflcii Inconx'ot in tliolr 
 qtii'iUiuiiH tr«n\ olil |>i>olii. 
 
 t hit] ()iiiltt<^.il III llio iUy of 1010 
 : ht Mwu/cl) Tlid .110. of 1040, "teould he." 
 I ifolJ] Tho4(n ofimn, "tioldnt." Oiirnld ilnkmntiHts 
 f< 't efiiiiii wlilch WiU formerly 
 
 *' ' \ ) liy nlcwurd*. 
 
 . . il.f." 
 
 it II. ( 
 
 'lINil In 
 
 * * 6(r«'J UuiilU.1.1 111 Uio 4ta of 1040. 
 
 >o of the oopion of tlio 4 In. of \C>\ 
 II MtrtJ i.e. Ml. 
 
THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 In their own money : flatterers dissemble their 
 
 vices, 
 And they dissemble their lies; that's justice. 
 Alas, poor gentleman ! 
 
 Diich. Poor ! he hath amply fiU'd his coffers. 
 Bj$. Sure, he was too honest. Pluto,* the 
 god of riches, 
 When he's sent by Jupiter to any man, 
 Hfl goes limping, to signify that wealth 
 That comes on God's name comes slowly ; but 
 
 when he's sent 
 On the devil's errand, he rides post and comes in 
 
 by Dcuttles. 
 Let nie show you what a most unvalu'd jewel 
 You have in a wanton humour thrown away. 
 To bliess the man shall find him. He was an 
 
 excellent 
 Joui'tier and most faithful ; a soldier that 
 
 thought it 
 As b.eastly to know his own value too little 
 As d evilish to acknowledge it too much. 
 T5jth his virtue and form deserv'd a far better 
 
 fortune : 
 His discourse rather delighted to judge itself 
 
 than show itself : 
 His Iireast was fiU'd with all perfection, 
 And yet it seem'd a private whispering-room, 
 It m ade so little noise oft. 
 
 Ltuch. But he was basely desccnfled. 
 
 l3o8. Will you make yourself a mercenary 
 
 herald, ik 
 
 Rat' her to examine iin n |i(iili| ii l"^ III iii i ii lui "^ 
 Ycju shall want him : 
 F\)rknow an honest statesman to a prince 
 - like a cedar planted by a spring ; 
 iie spring bathes the tree's root, the grateful 
 J tree 
 
 " Plwto, the god of riches, &c.] If Webster had elsewhere 
 
 -3d the name "Plutus, " I should, for consistency's 
 
 ke, have substituted it liere for ' ' Pluto.'' But the latter 
 
 . me is not to be considered as wrong : even the Greeks 
 
 • jmselves confounded nAayriir, the god of the lower 
 
 irld, with nxoara; , the god of riches (see Liddell and 
 
 ott's Gretl- lex. iu r. UKein-iiy). So, too, Marlowe, in his 
 
 ' ro and Lwnder, towards the close of the Second 
 
 -ostiad ; 
 
 " Whence his admiring eyes more pleasure took 
 Than Diion heaps of gold fixing his look." — 
 WitL>i tije present passage of our author compare Bacon's 
 E»«ays . . " The poets feign, that when Plutus (which is 
 riches,) b j ggnt from Jupiter, he limps, and goes slowly ; 
 but when . jj,;. jg sent from Pluto, he runs and is swift of 
 foot; me; jujug that riches gotten by good means and just 
 
 labour pf_^e slowly • . it might be applied 
 
 likewise ;' to Pluto taking him for the devil. For when 
 riches c4)me from the devil, (as by fraud and oppression, 
 and uii(jugt means), they come upon speed." 0/ Richet. 
 
 o* 
 
 Rewards it with his shadow : you have not 
 
 done so. 
 I would sooner swim to the Bermoothes * on 
 Two politicians' rotten bladders, tied 
 Together with an intelligencer's heart-string, 
 Than depend on so changeable a prince's favour. 
 Fare thee well, Antonio ! since the malice of the 
 
 world 
 Would needs down with thee, it cannot be said 
 
 yet 
 That any ill happen'd unto thee,, considering thy 
 
 fall 
 Was accompanied with virtue. + 
 
 Duch. 0, you render me excellent music ! 
 
 Bos. Say you? 
 
 Duch. This good one that you speak of Ls my 
 
 husband. 
 "'" n^?M^ ■"■ Jt drrii>OT ^ *fw thia n-nHtifinn age 
 Jaye .gQ.,mi<!hr.goodBa88 in'fc a3 to prefer 
 A. man merely for,woriih, without these shadows^ 
 Of wealth and painted honours 1 possible ? 
 Buck. I have had. three childrenby him. 
 Bos. Fortunate lady ! 
 For you have made your private nuptial bed 
 The humble and fair seminary of peace. 
 No question but many an unbenefic'd scholar 
 Shall pray for you for this deed, and rejoice 
 T hat some Dre JJeimentitt-tbe world^gail S'et 
 Arise from merit. The virgins of your land 
 ^TbaTTiave no dowries shall hope your example 
 Will raise them to rich husbands. Sh ould you want 
 Soldiers, 'twould make the very Turks 'and 
 
 Moors 
 Tarn Christians, and serve you for this act. 
 Last, the neglected poets of your time. 
 In honour of this trophy of a man, 
 Rais'd by that curious engine, your white hand, 
 Shall thank you, in your grave, for't ; and make 
 
 that 
 More reverend than all the cabinets 
 Of living princes. For Antonio, 
 His fame shall likewise flow from many a pen, 
 When heralds shall want coats to sell to men. 
 Bach. As I taste comfort in this friendly 
 speech, 
 So would I find concealment. 
 
 woi; 
 
 lui^j. 
 
 * Bentwotlies] i. e. the Bermudas. 
 
 f This and the two preceding speeches of Bosola con- 
 sist partly of lines which it would be difficult to read as 
 prose, and partly of sentences which will not admit of 
 any satisfactory metrical arrangement. Iu my uncer- 
 tainty bow to deal with them, I have allowed them to 
 stand nearly as they are given in the old 4t03. , 
 
 X A man, merely, Ac] This lino is found only in the 
 4to. of 1623. 
 
80 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFL 
 
 ACT HI. 
 
 Boi. 0, the secret of my prince, 
 WTiicU I will wear on theinaido of my heart I* 
 
 Duck. You Bhall take charge of all my coin 
 and jewclu, 
 And follow him; for he retires himself 
 To Ancona. 
 
 £0*. So. 
 
 Duch, Whither, within few days, 
 I mean to fullow thee. 
 
 Boi. Lot me think : 
 I would wi!-!i your grace to feign a pilgrimage 
 To our Lady of Lorotto, scarce aeven leagues 
 From fair Ancona ; bo may you depart 
 Tour country with more honour, and your flight 
 Will seem a princely progress.t retaining 
 Your uBual train about you. 
 
 Duch. .Sir, your direction 
 Shall lead me by the hand. 
 
 Cari. In my opinion, 
 She were bettor progress to the baths at Lucca, 
 Or fro visit the Spa 
 
 In Oenuany; for, if you will believe me, 
 I do not like this jesting with religion, 
 This feigiiM pilgrimage. 
 
 Ducli, Thou art a superstitious fool : 
 Prepare us instantly for our departure. 
 Pant sorrows, let us moderately lament them. 
 For those to come, seek wisely to prevent them. 
 
 \Kxrunt DDCueS3 and CaEIOLa. 
 
 Mjioi. A politician is the devil's quilted anvil ; 
 Ho faxhioiu) all sins on him, and the blows 
 Aru never heard : he may work in a lady's chamber, 
 A* here for proof. What rcata but I reveal 
 1 .' 0, tliis ba*o quality 
 r ! J why, every quality ithe world 
 l'iclt.-in but ^(iiin or commendation : 
 N'>w, fur this act I am certain to bo rois'd, 
 And men that paint weeds to the life ore prnisd. 
 
 1 Kxit. 
 
 SCKNE 111.5 
 
 knitr <'«r<lllisl. Fe«DIMA)(&, llALATrMtl, 1 ■;« Ali\, 
 
 I)t:uo, iiii<( Hit.vio. 
 
 r«rj.ii Mutt WO turn coMior, then ' 
 Mat. The nniporor, 
 
 • »t,uk I wUl w*ar M rA4 im»U» ^ «y kmH\ Bo 
 
 '.ut. s HIS. 2. 
 
 i\ ■ <iy. In U>« Canllital'i 
 belwMU pruao slid ver 
 
 Hearing your worth that way, ere you attain'd 
 This reverend garment, joins you in commission 
 With the right fortunate soldier the M&rqms of 
 
 Pescara, 
 And the famous Lannoy. 
 
 Card. He that had the honour * 
 Of tiikiug the French king prisoner ' 
 
 ifal. The same. 
 Here's a plot t di-awn for a new fortification 
 At Naples. 
 
 Fcrd. This great Count Malatesti, I perceivi 
 Hath got employment ? 
 
 Delia. No employment, my lonl ; 
 A marginal note in the muster-book, that he i- 
 A voluntary lord. 
 
 Ftrd. He's no soldier. 
 
 Delia. He has worn gun-powder in's ^bollr'U- 
 tooth for the tooth-ache. 
 
 Sil. He comes to the leaguerj with a full »'nici.i- 
 To eat fresh beef and garlic, means to stay 
 Till the scent be gone, and straight return ' 
 court. 
 
 Delia. He hath read all the late service 
 As the City-Chronicle relates it; 
 And keeps two pewterers § going, only to ex press 
 Battles in model. 
 
 Sa. Then he'll fight by the be ';. 
 
 Delia. By the almanpc, I think. 
 To choose good days and shun the ciiticd ; 
 That's his mistress' scarf. 
 
 Sil. Yes, he protests 
 Ho would do much for that taffeta. 
 
 Dtlio. I think he would run away from a bat 
 To save it from taking prisoner. 
 
 Sil. Ho is horribly afraid 
 Gun-powder will spoil the perfume on'L 
 
 Delia. I saw a Dutchman break Wis pate on 
 For calling him pot-gun ; he made his head 
 Have a boi-e in't like a musket. 
 
 Sil. I would he had made a touch-hoI« to't 
 He is indeed a guarded sumptor-cloth.H 
 Only for the remove of the court. 
 
 Snttr B08OLA. 
 P'l. RoHolft arriv'd I w'uit sluml.l !h< th ^ 
 buHiuosH ] 
 Some fallingout amongst the cardinals. 
 
 • llr ihal hint tht honour, tto.] Francis ' 
 >•! I'tivlu (mvo «i|i his KWonl to IjAuuoy. 
 
 i llij;-, liliiitnliiiJ" 
 
SCENE :^y_ 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALPI. 
 
 81 
 
 These inactions amongst great men, tlioy are 
 Hke 
 
 Foxes, v,]^gQ tlieir heads are divided, 
 
 They carx,. gj.^ ^ tj^eir t^iig^ and all the 
 counti„ 
 
 About them y.^^^ ^.^ ^j.eck for't. 
 • What's +j^a,tBosola] 
 ; "^*^" ■'■ ^^f^w him in Padua, — a fantasticsJl 
 
 1 Bcliulai', uke f^^^h who study to know how many :> 
 V knots was ^ Hercules' club, of what colour j 
 I Achilles ^gard was, or whether Hector were not 
 I troubled ^^t^ the tooth-ache. He hath studied] 
 Ij himself j^alf bleai'-eyed to know the true sym- 
 j meti'j Qf Caesar's nose by a shoeing-horn ; and| 
 1 ^^^ ae did to gain the name of a speculative 
 
 "cs. Mark Prince Ferdinand : 
 I -^ ^ery salamander lives in's eye, 
 ' ^^ mock the eager violence of fii'e. 
 
 il. That cardinal hath made more bad faces 
 ; his oppression than ever Michael Angelo 
 10 good ones: he lifts up's nose, like a foul 
 ; oise before a storm. 
 'tS. The Lord Ferdinand laughs. 
 JJdio. Like a deadly cannon 
 That lightens ere it smokes. 
 
 Pes. These are your true pangs of death, 
 The pangs of life, that struggle with great 
 statesmen. 
 Iklio. In such a deformed silence witches 
 whisper their charms. 
 
 Card. Doth she make religion her riding- 
 hood 
 To Keep her from the sun and tempest 1 
 
 Fcrd. That, 
 That damns her. Methinks her fault and beauty. 
 Blended together, show like leprosy, 
 The whiter, the fouler. I make it a question 
 Whether her beggarly brats were ever christen'd. 
 Cart?. I will instantly solicit the state of 
 Ancona 
 To have them banish'd. 
 * Ferd. You are for Loretto : 
 I shall not be at your ceremony ; fare you well. — 
 \ Write to the Duke of Malfi, my young nephew 
 She'Eadbyher ffrst husBanHraSa'acquamt him 
 With's mother's honesiy. "~ 
 
 Bos. I will. 
 Ferd. Antonio ! 
 A slave that only smell'd of ink and counters. 
 And never in's life look'd like a gentleman, 
 But in the audit-time. — Go, go presently, 
 Draw me out at: hundred and fifty of our liorsej, 
 And meet me at tue forfc-bridge. {Exeuif,t. 
 
 SCENE IV. \^ 
 
 Enter Two POgrims to the Shrine of our Lady of Lorh^o. 
 First Pil. I have not seen a goodlier shripe 
 than this ; 
 Yet I have visited many. 
 
 Second Pil. The Cardinal of An-agon 
 Is this day to resign hia cardmal's^at : 
 His sister duchess likewise is arriv'd 
 To pay'lier vow of pilgrimage. J aspect; _ 
 A noble ceremony. 
 
 First Pil. No question.— They come. 
 
 Here the ceremony of the Cardinal's instalment, in Vie 
 r^ habit of a soldier, ■performed in deliverii>g up his 
 cross, hat, robes, and riny, at the shrine, and 
 investinff him vrith s^cord, helmet, Aield, and spurs ; 
 then Antonio, the Duchess, and their children, 
 haHng presented themselves at the shrine, are, hy a 
 form of banishment in dumb-shmo expressed towards 
 fliem by the CarcTinal and the state of Ancona, 
 banished : during all which ceremony, tJiit ditty is 
 suwj, to very solemn music, by divers chur'.hnten ; 
 and then exeunt all except the Two Pilgrii- 
 
 Arms and honours d-ecTc thy story,* — 
 
 To thy fame's eternal glory ! 
 
 Adverse fortune ever fly thee; 
 Jfo disastrous fate come nigh thu ' 
 
 I alone will sing thy praises, 
 
 IVJiom to honour virtue raises ; 
 
 And thy study, that divine is, 
 
 Bent to martial discipline is. 
 
 Lay aside all those robes lie by thee ; 
 
 Crown thy arts with arms, they'll beautify thee. 
 
 worthy of worthiest v<itne, adom'd in tins manner, 
 
 lead bravely thy forces on wider war's warlike banner ! 
 
 0, mayst thou prove fortunate in all martial courses! 
 
 Guide thou still by still in arts and forces/ 
 Victory attend tJiee nigh, whiUtfame sings hud thy powers; 
 Triumphant conquest cromi thy head, and Uessings pi'io- 
 down showers/ 
 
 First Pil. Hei-e's a strange turn of state ! who 
 would have thought 
 So great a lady would have match'd herself 
 Unto so mean a pei-soa ? yet the cardinal 
 Bears himself much+ too cruel. 
 Sec. Pil. They are banish'd. 
 First PU. But I would ask what power hath 
 this state 
 Of Ancona to determine of a free prince ? 
 
 Sec. Pil. They are a free state, sir, and her 
 brother show'd 
 How that the Pope, fore-hearing of her looseness, 
 Hath seiz'd into the £rotection_^,£.t}ia,church ■, 
 The duitedom which she held as dowager. i 
 
 First Pil. But by what justice ] 
 Sec. Pil. Sure, I think by none. 
 Only her brother's instigation. 
 
 * On this song, in the 4to. of 1653, is the foUowinjr i 
 I ginal note; "The Author disclaimes this Ditty 
 t much] Omitted in the 4to. of 1640. 
 
82 
 
 THE DFCHESS OF MALFL 
 
 icT ni. 
 
 FirH Pd. What w»B it with such violence he 
 took 
 Off from hor finger 1 
 
 Stc I'lL TwitB licr wedding-ring ; 
 Which he vow'd Bhortly he would sacrifice 
 To hi« revenge. 
 
 Ftr$t Pd. Alas, Antonio 1 
 
 If that a man bo thrust into a well, 
 
 No matter who sets hand tot, his own weight 
 
 Will bring him sooner to the bottom. Come, 
 
 '-t let's henoe. 
 
 Fortune mukcu thi« conoluBion general, \ 
 
 All thioga do help the unhappy man to fall. 
 ,, ^ ..._ [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE V.» 
 
 Enter Docaess, Ajrrosio, Cliildron, Caiuola, and 
 
 ScrvauU. 
 
 Duch. Banish'd Ancona ! 
 
 Ant. Yes, you see what power 
 Lightens in great men's breath. 
 
 Ditch. Is all our train 
 Shrunk to thin poor remainder 1 
 
 Ant. These poor men.t 
 Which have got little in your service, vow 
 To take your fortune : but your wiser buntings, 
 Now they are fledgd, are gone. 
 
 J^McA. They have done wisely. 
 Thi« puU me in mind of death : physiciana thus, 
 With th(jir lianU full of money, use to give o'er 
 Their palietiU.J 
 
 Ant. Uight the fashion of the world : 
 From decayd fortunes every flatterer shrinks; 
 Men cease to build where the foundation sinki^. 
 
 Duck. I \\vA a very strange dream t<i night. 
 
 Anl. What was't ? J 
 
 Diuh. Mothouglit I wore my coronet of state, 
 Andun a kudden all the diiunuuds 
 Wem chsng'd tu pearla. 
 
 Ant. My interpretation 
 I«, you'll wd«p shortly ; fur to me the pearls 
 l)o hignify your teani. 
 
 H»cK. Tho bird* that live i'tho field 
 
 \ T*u»< 
 
 >oar LorttloT 
 ■Miij Tho «tu. 
 
 i.f IdlO, "(hoao iir» jKWr 
 
 I" 
 
 <-y. UM lo ffit* o'rr 
 ■• 'iitiiiaiiUtiora on Kliske 
 ■ vt" 111 the fiillowliiK 
 ' )io |tlo« (Iml WstjsUr 
 
 On the wild benefit of nature • live 
 
 Happier than we; for they may choose theLr ™*^^ 
 
 And carol their sweet pleasures to the f '^^• 
 
 Enter BO301.A wUk a letttr. 
 Bot. You are happily o'erta'en. 
 JJuch. From my brother ? 
 Bos. Yea, from the Lord r'"'^'^=^"" 
 brother 
 All love and safety. 
 
 Duch. Thou dost blanch mischief, 
 Wouldst make it white. See, see, like "^"^ 
 
 weather+ 
 At sea before a tempest, false hearts speal. 
 To those they intend most mischieE. [^ 
 
 "Send Antonio to me; I want hia head 
 btisiness." 
 
 A politic equivocation ! 
 He doth not want your counsel, but your lit. 
 That is, he cannot sleep till you be dead. 
 And here's another pitfall that's straw'd o'er 
 With roses ; mark it, 'tis a cunning one : [II 
 " I stand engaged for your husband for te% 
 debts at Naples: let not that trouble him ; / 
 rather have his heart than his money :" — 
 And I believe so too. 
 
 Bos. What do you believe ? 
 Duch. That he so much distrusts my husba 
 love. 
 He will by no means believe his howt is with 
 Until he see it : the devil is not cunning eno; 
 To circumvent us in riddles. 
 
 Bus. Will you reject that noble and free lea,; 
 Of amity and love which I present you 1 
 Duch. Tlicir league is like that of some pol 
 kings, 
 Only to make themselves of strength and yow 
 To bo our after-ruin : tell them so. 
 Bos. And what from j ou ? 
 Ant. Thus tell him; I will not come, 
 ^of. And what of this ! 
 Ant. My brothers have dispors'd 
 Bloodhounds abroad ; which till I lu'^u- : 
 
 luuE/.led, 
 No truce, though hatch'd with no'or such p .'i 
 
 skill. 
 Is safe, that hangs upon our ouomiea' will. 
 I'll not come at thciii. 
 
 I MM*!] Ttw tw. ul Ibtu, 
 
 • TktbMtthatUueOn.iM 
 
 Oh Ikt w»d hewjKt t^f nnfMr*] "Think liovv ootu; 
 ■tniiato ih* rrmlurtt q^ Ike .tttlil. that only lirt on f*<- 
 '" ■'' ■■ • ■' nnffoiiiM." Ml'lilhl' 
 
 I IV. 472. od. Dyoo. 
 
 • f lOtO. "Ilko to 
 caliii Wwtllivr ' 
 
THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 7^ 
 
 83 
 
 Bos. This proclaims your breeding : 
 Every small thing di'aws a base mind to fear, 
 As the adamant draws iron. Fare you well, sir : 
 You shall shortly hear from's. [_Exit. 
 
 Duck. I suspect some ambush : 
 Therefore by all my love I do conjure you 
 To take your eldest son, and fly towards Milan. 
 Let us not venture all this poor remainder 
 In one unlucky bottom. 
 
 Ant. You counsel safely. 
 .Best of my life, farewell, since we must part : 
 Heaven hath a hand in't ; but no otherwise 
 Than as some curious artist takes in sunder 
 A clock or watch, when it is out of frame, 
 i To bring't in better order. 
 
 Duch. I know not which is best, 
 ~-/ro see you dead, or part with you. — Farewell, 
 
 \ boy: 
 "^hou art happy that thou hast not understanding 
 
 — To know thy misery ; for all our wit 
 
 • And x'eading brings us to a truer sense 
 
 - Of sorrow. — In the eternal church, sir, 
 I do hope we shall not part thus. 
 
 Anf. 0, be of comfort ! 
 Make patience a noble fortitude, 
 J And think not how unkindly we are us'd : 
 'Man, like to cassia,* is prov'd best, being bruis'd. 
 
 Duch. Must I, like to a slave-born Russian, f 
 
 - Account it praise to suffer tyranny ? 
 |-And yet, heaven, thy heavy hand is in't ! 
 I I have seen my litle boy oft scourge his top, 
 
 And compar'd myself to't ; naught made me e'er 
 Go right but heaven's scourge-stick. 
 Ant. Do not weep : 
 
 I Heaven fashiou'd us of nothing ; and we strive 
 To bring ourselves to nothing. — Farewell, Cariola, 
 And thy sweet armful. — If I do never see thee more, 
 Be a good mother to your little ones. 
 And save them from the tiger : fare you well. 
 
 — Duch. Let me look upon you once more, for 
 
 that speech 
 , Came from a dying father : your kiss is colder 
 Than that I have seen an holy anchorite 
 Give to a dead man's skull. 
 
 Ant. My heart is turn'd to a heavy lump of lead, 
 "With which I sound my danger : fare you well. 
 [Exeunt Antoxio and his son. 
 Duch. My laurel is all wither'd. 
 Cari, Look, madam, what a troop of armed men 
 Make toward us. 
 ~. Duch, 0, they are very welcome : 
 / When Fortune's wheel is over-charg"d with princes^ 
 
 * Man, like to cassia, *c.] See note t, p. 6. 
 t Russian] The 4to. of 1640, "ruffian." 
 
 The weight makes it move swift : I would have 
 
 my ruin 
 Be sudden. 
 
 Re-enter Bosola visarded, with a guard. 
 
 I am your adventure, am I not 1 
 Bos. You are ; you must see your husband no 
 
 more. 
 Duch. What devil art thou that counterfeit'st 
 
 heaven's thunder? 
 Bos. Is that terrible ? I would have you tell 
 me whether 
 Is that note worse that frights the silly birds 
 Out of the corn, or that which doth allure them 
 To the nets ? you have hearken'd to the last too 
 
 much. 
 .3. Duch. misery ! like to a rusty o'er-charg'd 
 
 cannon, 
 _ Shall I never fly in pieces ? — Come, to what prison ? 
 Bos. To none. 
 Duck. Whither, then? 
 Bus. To your palace. 
 Duch. I have heard 
 That Charon's boat serves to convey all o'er 
 The dismal lake, but brings none back again. 
 Bos. Your brothers mean you safety and pity. 
 ^- Duch. Pity! 
 
 ~ With such a pity men preserve alive 
 Pheasants aucTquaiTs^ when they are not fat enough 
 To be eaten. 
 
 Bos. These are your children ? 
 Duch. Yes. 
 
 Bos. Can they prattle ? 
 Duch. No : 
 JBut I intend, since they were born accurs'd, 
 ICurses shall be theu" first language. 
 
 Bos. Fie, madam ! 
 Foi'get this base, low fellow, — 
 
 Duch. Were I a man, 
 I'd beat that counterfeit face into thy other. 
 "SbsT'Une of iio Birth. 
 Duch. Say that he was born mean, 
 Man is most happy when's own actions 
 Be arguments and examples of his virtue. 
 Bos. A barren, beggarly virtue. 
 Duch. I prithee, who is greatest? can you tell? 
 Sad tales befit my woe : I'll tell you one. 
 -A salmon, as she swan\ unto the sea. 
 Met with a dog-fish, who encounters her 
 With this rough language ; " Why art thou so bold 
 To mix thyself with our high state of floods,* 
 
 \ * To mix thyself with our high state of Jloods'\ From 
 tehakespeare ; 
 
 \ " Where it shall mingle with the Hate of floods." 
 \ Second Part of Benri/ IV. Act V. Sc. 2. 
 
 \ G 2 
 
fy-- 
 
 84 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF ^LVLFI. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Beiug no emioent courtier, but one 
 That for the calmest and fresh time o'tlie year 
 Dost live in shallow rivers, rank'st thyself 
 With silly smelts and slirinipsl and dareat 
 
 thou 
 Pass by our dog-ship without reverence ! " 
 " 0," quoth the salmon, " sister, bo at peace : 
 Thank Jupiter we both have pass'd the net ! 
 Our value never can be truly known, / i t 
 
 I? 
 
 "ill in the fisher's basket wo be shown 
 
 "rthe market then my price may be the higher, 
 Even when I am nearest to the cook and fire." 
 So to great men the moral may bo stretch'd ; 
 -Sleu oft are valu'd high, when they're most 
 
 wretch'd. — 
 But come, whither you please. I am arm'd 'gainst 
 
 misery ; 
 
 Bent to all sways of the oppressor's will : 
 ^There's no deep valley but near some great hill. 
 
 [Bxeunl. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 
 SCENE !.• ] 
 
 Enter FehdinaNI> and BosoLA. 
 Ferd. How doth our sister duchess bear herself 
 Iq her imprisonment? 
 
 Bot. Nobly : I'll describe her. 
 She's sad as one long t us'd to't, and she seems 
 Rather to welcome the end of misery 
 Tliau shun it ; a behaviour so noble 
 Am gives a majesty to adversity : 
 You may discern the shape of loveliness 
 More i>erfect in her tears than in her smiles ; 
 She will muse four hours together ; and her 
 
 silence, 
 Methinks, expressoth more than if she spake. 
 Ferd. Her nielanclioly seems to be fortified 
 With a Blnuige diwduin. 
 
 Boi. 'Tis BO ; an<l this restraint, 
 Like English mastives that grow fierce with tying, 
 MakM her too luutHionately apprehend 
 TboM pleoiiures siiu's kept from. 
 
 Ferd. Curse upon her ! 
 I will no longer wtudy in the book 
 Of another's heart. Inform her what I told you. 
 
 [Exii. 
 
 h'lt'tr DVCHRM.t 
 
 Jhn. All euinfurt to your grace ! 
 
 J*uck. 1 will have none. 
 Vny thee, why d<>iit thou wmp thy poinon'd pilU 
 In Kohl Mid auKiu- 1 
 
 Bot. Your older brother, the Ixinl Kordinand, 
 h eoine t** vinlt ymi, mid mMxU you word, 
 
 l> 
 
 Au ■iMrtiiiout 111 Uio paUoe of Ihoj 
 
 I 
 
 UmU U^l 111 tho 4U>. of 1440. 
 •■Km,i 
 
 'Cause once he rashly made a solemn vow 
 Never to see you more, he comes i'the nigh t ; 
 And prays you gently neither toi'ch nor taper 
 Shine in your chamber : he will kiss your hand. 
 And reconcile himself; but for his vow 
 He dares not see you. 
 
 Buck. At his pleasure. — 
 Take hence the lights. — He's come. 
 Enter Ferdinand. 
 
 Fei-d. Where are you ? 
 
 Duck. Here, sir. 
 
 Fet-d. This darkness suits you well. 
 
 Duch. I would ask you pardon. 
 
 Ferd. You have it ; 
 For I account it tho honorabl'st revenge. 
 Where I may kill, to pardon. — Where are your 
 cubsl 
 
 Duch. Whom ? 
 
 Ferd. Call them your children ; 
 For though our national law * distinguish Iwistnrds 
 From true legitimate issue, compassionate nature 
 Makes them all ecpial. 
 
 Duch. Do you visit me for this ! 
 
 IYini violate a sacx-ainent o'tho church 
 Shall niiike yuu howl in hell for'L 
 
 Frrd. It hud been well, 
 Ciuild you have liv'd thus always ; for, indeed. 
 You were too much i'tho light : — but no more ; 
 1 come to seal my peace with you. llei-e'sa liaiid 
 {Oiv<t her ii dritd man't httnil. 
 
 To which you huvo vow'il uuich love : tho riiii^ 
 
 upon't 
 
 V... 
 
 .<h1 
 
 lu ewuui *i.MU.t«4iU <4 hm «>wa " jiaUoo : " mo |>. U. 
 
 ih our uatiiMuU tarn, fto.] 8o our author 
 
 ... AillV. Sc. S; 
 
 ' I Iiiw iiinkim •UironilU'o 
 
 I I tlu' loi^itiinnta, 
 
 Cumptitnonatt Htuun iiKiin tKtm vjuaL" 
 
SCEXE I. 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 »5 
 
 w- Duch. I affectionately kiss ii. 
 
 Ferd. Pray, do, and bury the print of it in your 
 heart. 
 I will leave this ring with you foi' a love-token; 
 And the hand as sure as the ring ; and do not 
 
 doubt 
 tut you shall have the heart too : when you need 
 
 a friend. 
 Send it to him that ow'd * it ; you shall see 
 Whether he can aid you, 
 
 Duch, You are vei-y cold : 
 I fear you are not well after your travel. — 
 
 Ha ! lights ! 0, homble ! 
 
 Fe7-d. Let her have lights enough. [Exit. 
 
 Duch. What witchcraft doth he practise, that 
 he hath left 
 A dead man's hand here ? 
 
 [Here is discovered, behind a traverse,^ the artificial 
 figures 0/ Antonio and his children, appearing 
 as if they were dead. 
 
 Bos. Look you, here's the piece from which 
 'twas ta'en. 
 He doth present you this sad spectacle, 
 £rhat, now you know directly they are dead, 
 IHereafter you may wisely cease to grieve 
 • For that which cannot be recovered. 
 ■— Duch. There is not between heaven and earthj 
 
 one wish 
 —I stay for after this : it wastes me more 
 Than were't my picture, fashion'd out of wax. 
 Stuck with a magical needle, and then buried 
 In some foul dunghill; and yond's an excellent 
 
 property 
 For a tyrant, which I wovdd account mercy. 
 Bos. What's that ? 
 
 Duch. If they would bind me to that lifeless 
 tnmk, 
 And let me freeze to death. 
 
 Bos. Come, you must live. 
 ■'-- Duch. That's the greatest torture souls feel in 
 
 hell, 
 --In hell, that they must live, and cannot die. 
 Portia, I'll new kindle thy coals again. 
 And revive the rare and almost dead example 
 Of a loving wife. 
 
 Bos. 0, fie ! despair? remember 
 You are a Christian. 
 
 ^Duch. The chiorch enjoins fasting : 
 I'll sta^-ve myself to death. 
 
 Bog. Leave this vain sorrow. 
 Things being at the worst begin to mend : the bee 
 
 * c'o'd] i. e. owned. 
 
 t truverge'] See note *, p. 45. 
 
 J tarttt} The 4to. of 1640, " the earth." 
 
 When he hath shot his sting into your hand, 
 May then play with your eye-lid. 
 
 Duch. Good comfortable fellow, 
 Pei-suade a wretch that's broke upon the wheel 
 ^0 have all his bones new set ; entreat him live 
 To be executeil again. Who must despatch me ] 
 1 account this world a tedious theatre, ' 
 For I do play a part in't. 'gainst my will. 
 
 — Bos. Come, be of comfort; I will save your life. 
 — ~ Duch. Indeed, I have not leisure to tend 
 
 So small a business. 
 
 Bos. Now, by my life, I pity you. 
 
 - Duch. Thou art a fool, then, 
 
 |To waste thy pity on a thing so wretched 
 |As cannot pity itself.* I am full of daggers. 
 Puff, let me blow these vipers from me. 
 
 Enter Servant. 
 What are you ? 
 
 Serv. One that wishes you long life. 
 Duch. I would thou wert hang'd for the horrible 
 curse 
 . Thou hast given me : I shall shcfftly grow one 
 -Of the miracles of pity. I'll go pray ; — 
 -No, I'll go curse. 
 Bos. 0, fie ! 
 
 Duch. I could curse the stars. 
 Bos. 0, fearful ! 
 
 Duck. And those three smiling seasons of the 
 year 
 Into a Russian winter : nay, the world 
 To its first chaos. 
 
 Bos. Look you, the stars shine still. 
 ^ Duch. 0, but you must 
 
 -Remember, my curse hath a great way to go. — 
 -Plagues, that make lanes through largest families. 
 Consume them ! — 
 Bos. Fie, lady ! 
 Duch. Let them, like tyi-ants, 
 Never be remember'd but for the ill they have 
 
 done ; 
 Let all the zealous prayers of mortified 
 Churchmen forget them ! — 
 Bos. 0, uncharitable ! 
 
 Duch. Let heaven a little while cease crowning 
 martyrs, 
 To punish them ! — 
 
 Go, howl them this, and say, I long to bleed : 
 - It is some mercy when men kill with speed. [Exit. 
 
 Re-enter Ferdinajhs. 
 Ferd. Excellent, as I would wish ; she's plagu'd 
 in art : 
 
 * itself] The three earliest 4tos. "it." 
 
86 
 
 ^____ti-__— - 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 ACT TV. 
 
 Theae preaontatiou'- n'd in wax 
 
 B yi t i C' gUr l uu B Hi i ml ' , lality, 
 
 Yincentio Lauriola, and she takes tlicm 
 For true substantial bodies. 
 
 Bot. Why do you do this ? 
 
 Ferd. To bring her to despair. 
 
 Bo$. Faith, end hero, 
 And go no farther in your cruelty : 
 Send her a penitential garment to put on 
 Next to her delicate skin, and furnish her 
 With beads and prayer-books. 
 
 Ferd. Damn her ! that body of hers, 
 While that my blood ran pure in't, was more worth 
 Than that which thou wouldst comfort, call'd a 
 
 soul. 
 I will Bend her masks of common courtez.inB, 
 Have her meat serv'd up by bawds and ruffians, 
 And, 'cause she'll needs be mad, I am reaolv'd 
 To remove forth the common hospital 
 All the mad folk, and place them near her lodging; 
 There let them practise together, sing and dance, 
 And act their gambols to tho full o'the moon : 
 If she can sleep the better for it, let her. 
 Your work is almost ended. 
 
 Boi. Must I see her again ? 
 
 Ferd. Yea. 
 
 Jiai. Xever. 
 
 Ferd. You must. 
 
 Bos. Never in mine own shape ; 
 That's forfeited by my intelligence 
 •And this last cruel lie : when you send me next. 
 The business shall be comfort. 
 
 Ferd. Very likely ; 
 Thy pity is nothing of kin to thee. Antonio 
 Lurks about Milan : thou shalt shortly thither. 
 To feed a fire as great n« my rovcugo, 
 Which never will slack till it have spent his fuel: 
 Intcmi>erate agues make physicians cruel. [Exeunt. 
 
 8CKNK II.« 
 
 Bntir OuniBM anil CariuI.a. 
 Jhieh. What liidootui noiso was that ? 
 OarL 'Tls tho wild consort t 
 Of madineu, lady, which your tyrant brother 
 M-.i. . i^,.-,| n)„,ut yojjr lodging : this tyranny, 
 «a« nevBf prtutiu'd till thia hour. 
 y»i»//^. IniliMxl. 1 (hank hint : nothing but noUo 
 — aiid folly 
 
 ' wher<»as roaaon 
 
 [-And silence make me Btw;kjjj*d. Sit down ; 
 
 i iniinr putraTTrr^nl tragedy. 
 
 I Cart. 0, 'twill increase your melancholy. 
 — Duch. Thou art deceiv'd : 
 f- To hear of greater grief would lessen mine. 
 ■This is a prison ? 
 
 Cari. Yes, but you shall live 
 To shake this durance off. 
 Duch. Thou art a fool : 
 -The robin-red-breast and the nightingale 
 "Never live long in cages. 
 
 Cari. Pray, dry your eyes. 
 What think you of, madam ? 
 
 Duch. Of nothing ; 
 When I muse thus, I sleep. 
 
 Cari. Like a madman, with your eyes open ? 
 Duch. Dost thou think we shall know one 
 another 
 In the other world? 
 
 Cari. Yes, out of question. 
 Duch. 0, that it were possible we might 
 But hold some two days' conference with the 
 
 dead! 
 From them I should learn somewhat, I am sure, 
 — I never shall know here. I'll tell thee a miracle; 
 ~ -I am not mad yet, to my cause of sorrow : 
 "The heaven o'er my head seems made of moltea 
 
 brass, 
 --The earth of flaming sulphur, yet I am not mad. 
 ■|I am acquainted with sad misery 
 ■~A8 the tann'd galley-slave is with his oar; 
 f Necessity makes me suffer constantly, 
 I ;> And custom makes it easy. Who do I look like 
 now? 
 Cari. Like to your picture in the gallerj-, 
 A deal of life in show, but none iu practice ; 
 Or rather like some reverend monument 
 Whose ruins are even pitied . 
 
 J>uch. Very proper; 
 And Fortune seems only to have her eyo-sight 
 To behold my tragedy. — How now ! 
 What noise b that? ■ -— 
 
 <>r tho Dui'Iiom: 
 
 no III." 
 
 //••, Act II Bo. 1. 
 
 Siitrr Servant. 
 
 i^rrv. I am come to toll you 
 Your bi-olher hath intended you some sport. 
 A great j^liysician, when tho Pope was sick 
 Of a deep melancholy, prosentcil him 
 With several soi-ts of madmen, which wild ol>ject 
 Being full of change and sport, forc'd him to laugh, 
 And HO the imposthunio broke: tho sclf-Bimo cure 
 Tho duke intends on you. 
 
 DhcK, Lot thoni • cumn in. 
 
 • lArm) Tlio 4U». of l(J40, "me," a inlii|>-i«it for '"nn." 
 
THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 87 
 
 Serv. There's a mad lawyer j and a secular 
 
 priest J ■■ - -■- 
 
 A doctor that hath forfeited his ^Yits 
 
 By jealousy ; an astrologian 
 
 That in his works said such a day o'the month 
 
 Should be the day of doom, and, failing oft. 
 
 Ran mad ; an English tailor craz'd i'the brain 
 
 With the study of new fashions ;* a gentleman-usher 
 
 Quite beside himself with care to keep in mind 
 
 The number of his lady's salutations 
 
 Or " How do you " she employ'd him in each 
 
 morning ; f 
 A farmer, too, an excellent knave in grain, 
 Mad 'cause he was hinder'd transportation : 
 And let one broker that's mad loose to these, 
 Tou'd think the devil were among them. 
 Duch. Sit, Cariola. — Let them loose when you 
 
 please. 
 For I am chain'd to endure all your tyranny. 
 
 Enhr Madmen. 
 Htrc hy a Madman this song is sung to a dismal 
 kind of music. 
 0, let us howl some heavy note, 
 
 Some deadly dogged howl, 
 Sounding as from the threatening throat 
 
 Of beasts and fatal fowl .' 
 As ravens, screech-owls, bidls, and bears. 
 
 We'll bell, and bawl our parts. 
 Till irlsome noise have cloy'd your ears 
 
 And cdrrosiv'd your hearts. 
 At last, nheiias cnir qaire wants breath. 
 
 Our bodies being blest. 
 We'll sing, like swans, to welcome death, 
 
 Ayid die in. love and nst. 
 
 First Madman. Doom's-day not come yet ! I'll 
 draw it nearer by a perspective, or make a glass 
 that shall set all the world on fire upon an instant. 
 I cannot sleep ; my pillow is stuffed with a litter 
 of porcupines. 
 
 Second Madman. Hell is a mere glass-house, 
 where the devils are continually blowing up 
 women's J souls on hollow irons, and the fire 
 never goes out. 
 
 Third Madman. I will lie with every woman 
 in my parish the tenth night ; I will tythe them 
 oter like hay-cocks. 
 
 Fourth Madman. Shall my pothecary outgo me 
 because I am a cuckold ? I have found out his 
 
 * fashions'] The4to. of 1623, "fashion." 
 
 t Or "how do you" sJie employ'd him in each morning'] 
 In Brome's Northern Latse, 1632, Mistress Fitchew's gen- 
 tleman-usher is named Bow-dee : see, as illustrative of 
 our text, Act I. Sc. 6. of that amusing comedy. So too 
 Nabbes ; ' ' and thou a Ladies Gentleman Usher, a bundle 
 of complementall follyes stltcht up with how-dees." Corent- 
 Garden, 1638, 8ig. D. 
 
 t vomen's'] The 4to. of 1640, "men's." 
 
 roguery ; he makes allum of his wife's urine, and, 
 sells it to Puritans that have sore throats with 
 over-straining. 
 
 First Madman, I have skill in heraldry. 
 
 Second Madman. Hast 1 
 
 First 3f adman. You do give for your crest a 
 woodcock's head with the brains picked out on't ; 
 you are a very ancient gentleman. 
 
 Third Aladman. Greek is turned Turk : we 
 are only to be saved by the Helvetisn translation. 
 
 First Madman. Come on, sir, I will lay the 
 law to you. 
 
 Second Madman. 0, rather lay a corrosive : the 
 law will eat to the bone. 
 
 Third Madman. He that drinks but to satisfy 
 nature is damned. 
 
 Fourth Madman. If I had my glass here, I would 
 show a sight should make all the women here call 
 me mad doctor. 
 
 First Madman. What's he ? a rope-maker] 
 
 Second Madman. No, no, no, a snutfliug knave 
 that, while he shows the tombs, will have his 
 hand in a wench's placket. 
 
 Third Madman. Woe to the caroche that 
 brought home my wife from the mask at three 
 o'clock in the morning ! it had a lai-ge featherbed 
 in it. 
 
 Fourth Madman. I have pared the devil's naila 
 forty times, roasted them in raven's eggs, and 
 cured agues with them. 
 
 Third Madman. Get me three hundred mUch- 
 bats, to make possets to procure sleep. 
 
 Fourth Madman. All the college may throw 
 their caps at me : I have made a soap-boiler 
 costive ; it was my masterpiece. 
 
 [Here the dance, consisting of Eight Madmen, with 
 music answerable thereunto; after which, Bo- 
 sola, like an old man, enters. 
 
 Duch. Is he mad too ? 
 
 Sei-v. Pray, question him. I'll leave you. 
 
 [Exeunt Servant and Madmen. 
 
 Bos. I am come to make thy tomb. 
 
 Duch. Ha ! my tomb ! 
 Thou speak"st as if I lay upon my death-bed. 
 Gasping for breath : dost thou perceive me sick? 
 
 (Bos. Yes, and the moi'e dangerously, since thy 
 ickness is in sensible . 
 Duch. Thou art not mad, sure: dost know me? 
 Bos. Yes. 
 Duch. Who am 1 1 
 
 Bos. Thou art a doi of ,■. v^^Ui-ert;!.!, at best but 
 a salvatory of green mummv.* What's this flesh '. 
 a little cruddedt. milk, fantastical puff-paste. 
 
 * mummy] See note ||, p. 5. 
 t crudded] The4to. of 1640, 
 
 'curded." 
 
88 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 ACT IV, 
 
 Our bodies are weaker than those paper-prisons 
 boys use to keep flies in ; more conteiuptible, | 
 since ours is to preserve earth-worms. Didst thou | 
 ever • Bce a lark in a cage ? Such is the soul in 
 the body : this world is like her little turf of 
 grass, and the heaven o'er our heads like her 
 lookiug-glatis, only gives lu a miserable knowledge 
 of the small compass of our prison. 
 Duch. Am not I thy duchess ] 
 £o$. Thou art some great woman, sure, for riot 
 j begins to sit on thy forehead (clad in gray hairs) 
 A twenty years sooner than on a merry milk-maid's- 
 Thou sleciMJst worse than if a mouse should be 
 forced to tiike up her t lodgiug in a cat's ear : 
 a little infant that breeds its teeth, should it lie j 
 with thee, wotild cry out, as if thou wert the ■ 
 • more unquiet bedfellow. 
 — iJucfi, I am Duchess of Malfi still. 
 
 lioi. That makes thj' sleeps so broken : 
 Glories, like glow-worms, afar oti' shine bright. 
 But, look'd to near, have neither heat nor light.:;: 
 Vuch. Thou art very plain. 
 
 ^Bcn. My trade is to flatter the dead, not the 
 iving ; I am a tomb-maker. 
 Duch. And thou comest to make my tomb ? 
 I Dot. Yes. 
 
 Duch. Let mo bo a little mcny : — of whatstufiF 
 wilt thou imtke it ? 
 
 Bo4. Nay, resolve me first, of what fashion ? 
 ~ Itiuli. Why, do we grow faut^ustical in our death- 
 bed ? do we affect fiishion in the grave ] 
 
 Bot. Most ambitiously. Princes' images on 
 their tombs do not lie, lui they were wont, seeming 
 to pray up to heaven ; but with their hands under 
 their choekis as if they died of the tooth-ache : 
 they are not car\'ed with their eyes fixed \ij>ou 
 the stars ; but as their minds were wholly bent 
 ui>on the world, the self-sjuuu way they seem to 
 turn tlieir fac-os. 
 
 liuc}^. Ivot me know fully therefore the elTect 
 Of till* thy tlismal (ireparation, 
 This talk lit for a cliarnel. 
 
 Hot. Now I hliall : - 
 
 Bttrr RiocuUuueni, teilh a r<\ffln, ewilt, and a Ml. 
 litre m a pronout from your princely brother*; 
 And may il arrive welcome, for it bringn 
 Lftat bruefit, Itu-t Nurrow. 
 
 Ihuk. Lot uu' ni-o it : 
 I luire ■(> much obedionoe hi my bluod, 
 
 1 wUh it III (I. Kir x.Mi.n I,. .),, llioD) good. 
 
 Bot. This is your last presence-chamber.* 
 Cari. my sweet lady ! 
 
 — Duch. Peace ; it aflrights not me. 
 Bo». I am the common bellman, 
 
 That usually is sent to condemu'd persons 
 The night before they sufifer. 
 
 Dock. Even now thou said'st 
 Thou wast a tomb-maker. 
 
 Boi. 'Twaa to bring you 
 By degrees to mortification. Listen. 
 
 Hark, now every thing is still. 
 The screech-owl and the whistler shrill t 
 Call upon our dame aloud. 
 And bid her quickly don her shroud ! 
 Much you had of land and rent ; 
 Your length in clay's now competent : 
 A long war disturb'd your mind ; 
 Here your perfect peace is sign'd. 
 Of what is't fools make such vain keeping ■ 
 Sin tlieir conception, their birth weeping, 
 I'heir life a general mist of error, 
 Nl'heir death a hideous storm of terror. 
 Strew your hair with powders sweet, 
 Don clean linen, bathe your feet, 
 And (the foul fiend more to check) 
 A crucifix let bless your neck : 
 'Tis now full tide 'tween night and day ; 
 End your groan, and come away. 
 
 Cari. Hence, villams, tyrants, murderers! alas! 
 What will you do with my lady! — Call for help. 
 
 Duch. To whom ? to our next neighboure? they 
 are mad-folks. 
 
 Bos. Remove that noise. 
 
 Duch. l''arewell, Cariola. 
 In my last will I have not much to give : 
 A many hungry guests have fed upon me ; 
 Thine will be a poor rcvei-sion. 
 
 Cari. I will die with her. 
 
 - Duch. I pray thee, look thou giv'st my little boy 
 Some syrup for his cold, and lot the girl 
 
 ~Say her prayers ere she sleep. 
 
 [CAnioi.A it/orctd oiU by the Executioners. 
 
 Now what you please : 
 
 - What death ? 
 
 Boa. Strangling ; hero are your executioners. 
 
 - J>uch. I forgive thorn : 
 
 The apoplexy, catarrh, or eougb o'tho lungs, 
 -W'.ul.l ,|,.„- .,„,,.l, ,,. they do. 
 
 hambtr] VlMt»r(Slkatt$pmrt'* 
 
 J .i ■■ . I.. Ml. ,M , J. -..(I) \v,.iiM I'i'tkil huru " ThW [L o. Thit 
 <#J your liwl," &a. 
 \ Iht tehititrr AriU] 8o8iK'usor; 
 
 '• n« ithiMler thrHI, Hint wluwo lionroa doth Jy." 
 Tht J-'itrrit Vutakt, U. 11. O. xlL at, 'M. 
 
THE DUCHESS OF I^IALFI. 
 
 89 
 
 Bos. Doth not death fright you ] 
 Duch. Who -would be afraid on't, 
 ^Knowing to meet such excellent company 
 ^In the other world ? 
 Bos. Yet, methinks, 
 The manner of your death should much afflict you : 
 This cord should tenify you. 
 C I>uch. Not a whit : 
 
 What would it pleasure me to have my throat cut 
 With diamonds ? or to be smothered 
 -With cassia? or to be shot to death with pearls] 
 md know death hath ten thousand several doors 
 i-For men to take their exits ; and 'tis foimd 
 >They go on such strange geometrical hinges, 
 ^JTou may open them both ways : any way, for 
 
 heaven-sake, 
 ^ So I were out of your whispering. Tell my brothers 
 
 That I perceive death, now I am well awake, 
 - Best gift is they can give or I can take. 
 ^ I would fain put off my last woman's fault, 
 ->rd not be tedious to you. 
 First Execut. We are ready. 
 Duch. Dispose my breath how please you; but 
 my body 
 ~~ Bestow upon my women, will you ] 
 
 First Execut. Yes. 
 - Duch. Pull, and pull strongly, for your able 
 
 strength 
 ^-3Must pull down heaven upon me : — 
 ~^Yet stay; heaven-gates are not so highly arch'd* 
 ■^ As princes' + palaces; they that enter there 
 "'Must go upon theii" knees iKneels]. — Come, violent 
 
 de^h,_I 
 —Serve for mandragora Jo^make_me sleep ! — 
 
 Go tell my brothers, when I am laid out, 
 """They then may feed in quiet. 
 
 [The Executioners ftrangle the Ducnpss.t 
 
 * i'et stay ; heaven-gates are not so highly arch'd 
 As princes' palaces, &c.] When Webster wrote this 
 passage, the following charming lines of Shakespeare 
 were in his mind ; 
 
 "Stoop, boys: this gate 
 Instructs you how to adore the heavens, and bows you 
 To a morning's holy office : the gates of monarchs 
 Are arch'd so liigh, that giants may jet through 
 And keep their impioxis turbans on, without 
 Good morrow to the sun." Cymbeline, Act III. Sc. 3. 
 t princes'] The 4to. of 1640 "pirincely." 
 X ' ' All the sevei-al parts of the dreadful apparatus with 
 which the duchess's death is ushered in are not more re- 
 mote from the conceptions of ordinaiy vengeance than 
 the strange character of suffering which ' they seem to 
 bring upon tueir victim is beyond the imagination of 
 ordinary poets. As they are not like inflictions of this 
 life, so her language seems no:: of this uorld. She has 
 lived among horrors tiU she is become ' native and en- 
 dowed \uito that element.' She speaks the dialect of 
 despair, her tongue has a smatch of Tartarus and the 
 
 Bos. Where's the waitiug-woman ? 
 Fetch her : some other strangle the children. 
 
 [Caeiola and Children are brought in bit the Exe- 
 cutioners; vho presently strangle the Children. 
 
 Look you, there sleeps your mistress. 
 
 Cari. 0, you are * damn'd 
 Perpetually for this ! My tm-n is nest ; 
 Is't not so order'd ? 
 
 Bos. Yes, and+ I am glad 
 You are so well prepar'd for't. 
 
 Cari. You are deceiv'd, sir, 
 I am not prepar'd for't, I will not die ; 
 I will first J come to my answer, and know 
 How I have offended. 
 
 Bos. Come, despatch her. — 
 You kept her counsel ; now you shall keep ours. 
 
 Cari. I will not die, I must not ; I am contracted 
 To a young gentleman. 
 
 First Execut. Here's your wedding-ring. 
 
 Caj-i. Let me but speak with the duke : I'll 
 discover 
 Treason to his person. 
 
 Bos. Delays : — throttle her. 
 
 First Execut. She bites and scratches. 
 
 Cari. If you kill me now, 
 I am damn'd ; I have not been at confession 
 This two years. 
 
 Bos. [to Executioners]. When 1 § 
 
 Cari. I am quick with child. 
 
 Bos. Why, then, 
 Your credit's sav'd. 
 
 [The Executioners strangle Caeiola. 
 Bear her into the next room ; 
 Let these || lie still. 
 
 [Exeunt the Executioners with the body of Caeioi.a. 
 
 Enter Febdinaxd. 
 Fet-d. Is she dead ? 
 
 souls in bale. What are ' Luke's iron crown,' the brazen 
 bull of Perillus, Procrustes' bed, to the waxen images 
 which counterfeit death, to the wild masque of madmen, 
 the tomb-maker, the beU-man, the living person's dirge, 
 the mortification by degrees ! To move a horror skil- 
 fully, to touch a soul to the quick, to lay upon fear as 
 much as it can bear, to wean and weary a life till it is 
 ready to drop, and then step in with mortal instniments 
 to take its last forfeit; this only a Webster can do. 
 Writers of an inferior genius may ' upon horror's head 
 horrors accumulate,' but they cannot do this. They 
 mistake quantity for quality, they ' terrify babes with 
 painted devils,' but they know not how a soul is capable 
 of being moved ; their terrors want dignity, their 
 afB-ightments a^ ■- ^thout decorum." C. Lamb, {Spec, of 
 Eng. Dram. Poets, p. 217.) 
 
 * you arel The 4to of 1040, " thou art." 
 t and] Omitted in the 4to of 1640. 
 
 • firsf] Omitted in the 4ta of 1640. 
 § Whrn] See note * p. 68. 
 
 I these] Old eds. "this." 
 
90 
 
 THE DUCHESS OP MALFL 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Bos. She is wbat 
 You'd have her. But here begin your pity : 
 
 [Skowt Uu Children Mrangled. 
 
 Alas, how have these offended? 
 '^ Ferd. The death 
 XOf young wolvea is never to bo pitied. 
 Boi. Fix your eye here. 
 Ferd. Constantly. 
 Bm. Do you not weep ? 
 Other sins only ppeak ; murder ehrieks out : 
 The element of water moistens the earth, 
 But blouJ (lies upwards and bedews the heavens. 
 ~" yFerJ. Cover her face ; * mine eyes dazzle : she 
 "*' died young. 
 
 j^, Bot. I think not so ; her infelicity 
 J I Seem'd to have years too many. 
 I . Ferd. She and I were twins ; 
 HJAnd should I die this instant, I had liv'd 
 hBIer time to a minute. 
 
 Boi. It seems she was bom first : 
 You have bloodily approv'd the ancient truth, 
 iThat kindred commonly do worse agree 
 rrhan remote strangers. 
 "^ Ferd. Let me see her face 
 
 Again. Why didst not thou pity her? what 
 - An excellent honest man mightst thou have been, 
 If thou had.st borne her to some sanctuary ! 
 Or, bold in a good cauce, oppos'd thyself, 
 j With thy ftiJvanc^d sword above thy head, 
 I Between her innocence + and my revenge ! 
 I I bade thee, when I was distracted of my wits, 
 I X}o kill wy dearest friend, and thou hast donc't. 
 I Vor let mo but examine well the cause : 
 ^'hftt was the meanness of her match to me ? 
 .jpiily I must confosa I had a hope, 
 jBiul mIio continuM wiaow7to ha~ve gniii'd 
 
 tn infinite masii of trcamiro_b^ her_ilc;iLh : 
 nd"TrbnrTwa>rTTio niain cuuho ] her marrin^o. 
 That drew a stream of gall unite through my heart. 
 M Fur th«^, ax wo observe in tragedies 
 Tliat a good actor many tinioa is ciirt'd 
 iFor jilaying a villain's part, I hate thee for't, 
 And, for my sake, suy, thou hast donu nmch ill 
 
 Jioi, Let mo quicken your memory, for I 
 peroeivfl 
 Too are (ailing into ingratitude : I challenge 
 The rwwanl •Inr to my sorviio. 
 
 Afd. Ill toll the, 
 
 ir, not V. 
 
 "tfan aro 
 
 noernef. 
 
 What I'll give thee. 
 
 Bot. Do. 
 
 Ferd. I'll give thee a pardon 
 For this murder. 
 
 Bot. Ha! 
 
 Ferd. Yes, and 'tis 
 The largest bounty I can study to do thee. 
 By what authority didst thou execute 
 This bloody sentence ? * 
 
 Bot. By yours. 
 '» Ferd. Mine ! was I her judge ? 
 * Did any ceremonial form of law 
 «.Doom her to not-being ? did a c6tnplete jury 
 Deliver her conviction up ithe court ) 
 Where shalt thou find this judgment register'd, 
 "^-Unless in hell ? See, like a bloody fool, 
 Thou'st forfeited thy life, and thou shalt die 
 for't. 
 
 Bot. The oflBce of justice is perverted quit« 
 When one thief hangs another. Who shall dare 
 To reveal this ? 
 
 Ferd. 0, I'll tell thee; 
 The wolf shall find her grave, and scrape it up, 
 Not to devour the corpse, but to discover 
 The hoiTid murder.f 
 
 Bot. You, not I, shall quake for't. 
 
 Ferd. Leave me. 
 
 Bot. I will first receive my pension. 
 
 Ferd. You are a villain. 
 
 Bot. When your ingratitude 
 Is judge, I am so. 
 
 Ferd. horror. 
 That not the fear of him which binds the devils 
 Can pr&'<cribe man obedience ! — 
 Never look upon mo more. 
 
 Bot. Why, fiure thee well. 
 Your brother and yourself arc worthy men : 
 You have a pair of li'.-arts aro hollow graves. 
 Rotten, and rotting others ; and your vengeance, 
 
 • tenttnee] tho 4U> ot IttO, "ttrriet." 
 
 t The wolf ttiall, *c.] A common Biijicrstitiou : "For 
 
 tlie aamo niuiietli iiuxt after that .\driitn and Juatlulan 
 
 t ' ' • ! Mr lieuil InKly of Dc Laurier. Iwhuld a huf^ 
 
 Well (licinp liitcly iinmstd from tho iicljii- 
 
 It). M:okiiijj Mp ruul diiwu forhln prey, i-uiiio 
 
 iii(n Adrian'R on hard next adjoyniu^ to his hoviao (pur- 
 
 IHWt-ly milt thltlior by God as a Bliulstor of hti mcrcd 
 
 ju^til•o nnd rovoiifTo); wlio sentlng Bome dead carrion 
 
 ("Lull indeed wuH llio licnd Corj* of I»o Ijiiiricr, tlmt 
 
 Win 1 111 Himlliiwlv luirloil llioro lu tliegn>undX lie florcoly 
 
 with hi* iMiwiiaiid iioM tiMini up tlio earth, and At liuit 
 
 pulln nnd ilmmpi It up, nnd tliero till nn hour after the 
 
 lirt'nk of dny rt'mnlnit dcvourini; nnd cAtiuff »ip of the 
 
 llrah of III* Anna. ixiK*. Thl|{ha nnd lhitu>cka. But (as 
 
 ' ' "■ ■ ' ' ' ■ ■■! lie never tmicliisl any part of hia 
 
 iiilly unilliiTljrurod." (io<rt Nnmpe 
 
 I ' ■ k VI. IlUt. 'j:. p. 4(C. cti. lilTO. 
 
THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 91 
 
 Like two chain'd bullets,* still goes arm in arm : 
 You may be brothers; for treason, like the plague, 
 Doth take much in a blood. I stand like one 
 That long hath ta'en a sweet and golden dream : 
 /l am augry with myself, now that I wake. 
 
 Ferd. Get thee into some unknown part o'the 
 world, 
 That I may never see thee.+ 
 
 Bos. Let me know 
 Wherefore I should be thus neglected. Sir, 
 I serv'd your tyranny, and rather strove 
 To satisfy yourself than all the world : 
 And though I loath'd the evil, yet I lov'd 
 You that did counsel it ; and rather sought 
 To appear a true servant than an honest man. v ' 
 ^ Ferd. I'll go hunt the badger by owl-light : 
 -'Tis a deed of darkness. [Exit. 
 
 Bos. He's much distracted. Off, my painted 
 honour ! 
 While with vain hopes our faculties we tire. 
 We seem to sweat in ice and freeze in fire. 
 What would I do, were this to do again ? 
 I would not change my peace of conscience 
 For all the wealth of Europe.^ — She stirs ; here's 
 
 life .— 
 Return, fair soul, from darkness, and lead mine 
 Out of this sensible hell: — she's warm, she 
 
 breathes : — 
 Upon thy pale lips I will melt my heart, 
 To store them with fresh colour. — Who's there ! 
 Some cordial drink ! — Alas ! I dare not call : 
 So pity would destroy pity.— Her eye qjes, 
 
 And heaven in it seems to ope, that late was shut, 
 To take me up to mercy. 
 Duck. Antonio ! * 
 Bos. Yes, madam, he is living ; 
 The dead bodies you saw were but feign'd statues : 
 He's reconcil'd to your brothers ; the Pope hath 
 
 wrought 
 The atonemeut.t 
 
 Buck. Mercy ! [Bjes. 
 
 Bos. 0, she's gone again ! there the cords of 
 life broke, 
 -0 sacred innocence, that sweetly sleeps 
 -Oii'tiii'tles* feathers, whilst a guilty conscience 
 Is a black register wherein is writ 
 All our good deeds and bad, a perspective 
 -That shows us hell ! That we cannot be suffer'd 
 To do good when we have a mind to it 1 
 /This is manly sorrow ; 
 \These tears, I am very certain, never grew 
 Jn my mother's milk : my estate is sunk 
 ; Below the degree of fear : where were 
 These penitent fountains while she was living] 
 0, they were frozen up ! Here is a sight 
 As direful to my soul as is the sword 
 Unto a wretch hath slain his father. Come, 
 I'll bear thee hence. 
 
 And execute thy last J will; that's deliver 
 Thy body to the revei-end dispose 
 Of some good women : that the cruel tyrant 
 Shall not deny me. Then I'll post to Milan, 
 Where somewhat I will speedily enact 
 Worth my dejection. [Exit. 
 
 ACT y. 
 
 SCENE l.X 
 Enter Antonio and Delio. 
 
 Ant. What think you of my hope of reconcile- 
 ment 
 To the Arragonian brethren ? 
 Delia. I misdoubt it ; 
 
 * Like two cJiain'd bullets] So Heywood ; 
 "My friend and I 
 Like two chain-bullets, side by side, will tiy 
 Thorow the jawes of death." 
 
 A Oiallmgefor Seautie, 1G36, Sig. D. 
 
 t That I may never see thee} In composing this scene, 
 
 Webster seems to have ha(^ an ftje to that between King 
 
 John and Hubert in Sb xkespeai-e's Kinfj John, Act IV. 
 
 Sc. 2. 
 
 t Scene /.] Milan. A public place (it would seem). 
 
 For though they have sent their letters of safe-con- 
 For your repair to Milan, they appear [duct 
 
 '"put nets to entrap you. The Marquis of Pescara, 
 Under whom you hold certain land in cheat, 
 Much 'gainst his noble nature hath been mov'd 
 To seize those lands; and some of his dependants 
 Are at this instant makiug it their suit 
 To be invested in your revenues. 
 I cannot think they mean well to your life 
 That do deprive you of your means of life, 
 Your living. 
 
 * The idea of making the Duchess speak after she has 
 been strangled, was doubtless taken from the death of 
 Desdemoua in Shakespeare's Othello, Act V. last scene. 
 
 t atonement] i. e. reconciliation. 
 
 J last] Omitted in the -Ito of 1640. 
 
92 
 
 THE L)LClli::sS OF MALFL 
 
 ACT V 
 
 Ant. You are Btill an heretic 
 To any safety I can ^hn\>e uiycelf. 
 
 JJelio. Here comes the marquis: I will make 
 myself 
 Petitioner for some part of your land, 
 To know whither it i« flying. 
 
 Ant. I pray, do. 
 
 Enttr Pbscara. 
 
 Delia. Sir, I have a suit to you. 
 
 Pa. To me ? 
 
 Delio. An easy one : 
 There is the Citadel of Saint Benjiet, 
 With some deniesnes, of late in the possession 
 Of Antonio Bologna, — please you bestow them on 
 me. 
 
 Pu, You arc my friend ; but this is such a suit, 
 Nor fit for me to give, nor you to take. 
 
 JJelio. No, f-ir? 
 
 Pu. I will give you ample reason for't 
 Soon in private : — here's the cardinal's mistress. ' 
 
 Eutir JcLiA. 
 Julia. My lord, I am grown your poor peti- 
 tioner, 
 And should be an ill beggar, had I not 
 A great man's lett<4^i-re, the cardinal's. 
 To court you in my favour. [Give» a letter. 
 
 Pt». Ho eiitrc;it8 for you 
 The Citadel of Saint Beunet, that belong'd 
 To the banifih'd Bologna. 
 Julia. Yes. 
 
 Pc*. I could not have thought of a friend I 
 could rather 
 riroKure with it : 'tis yours. 
 
 Julia, Sir, I thank yuu ; 
 And he hIiuU know how <luubly I am engag'd 
 Itoth in your gift, and Hpeudiness of giving 
 Which makes your grunt tlio grvator. \Exit. 
 
 Ant. How they fortify 
 I'heiiiitolveM with my ruin ! 
 
 iHlio. Sir, I am 
 Littlo )>outid to you. 
 Vtt. Wliyr 
 
 iHlxo. Ik-cauN« you doniu<l thU nuit to mo, and 
 (pive't 
 To luch k crvnturc. 
 
 /'a*. Do you know what it wobI 
 It wiu Auionlu'a land ; not forfvitod 
 Hy rourw of Uw, but nivlah'd from htH throat 
 V>- il'it onlmity : it were not fit 
 
 1 w ao iiiiiiii II ).ii.c(i of wrong 
 
 Uj«'U Uii lucliil , ' itioD 
 
 Only duo to a atrt.: m injuatice. 
 
 Shall I sprinkle the pure blood of innocents 
 To make those followers I call my friends 
 Look ruddier upon me ? I am glad 
 This land, ta'cn from the owner by such wrong, 
 Returns again unto so foul an use 
 As salary for his lust. Learn, good Delio, 
 JTo ask noble things of me, and you shall find 
 ^'11 be a noble giver. 
 
 Delio. You instruct me well. 
 
 Ant. Why, here's a man now would fright im- 
 pudence 
 From sauciest beggars. 
 
 Pe». Prince Ferdinand's come to Milan, 
 Sick, as they give out, of an apoplexy ; 
 But some say 'tis a frenzy : I am going 
 To visit him. \.^^. 
 
 Ant. 'Tis a noble old fellow. 
 
 Delio. What course do you mean to take, 
 Antonio ? 
 
 Ant. This night I mean to venture all my 
 fortune, 
 Which is no more than a poor lingering life. 
 To the cardinal's worst of malice : I have got 
 Private access to his chamber ; and intend 
 To visit him abgut the mid of night. 
 As once his brother did our noble duchess. 
 It may be that the sudden apprehension 
 Of danger, — for I'll go in mine own shape, — 
 When he shall see it fi-aight* with love and duty, 
 Jlay draw the poison out of him, and work 
 -A friendly reconcilement : if it fail, 
 lYet it shall rid mo of this infamous calling ; 
 For better fall once than be ever falling. 
 
 Dtlio. I'll second you in all danger; and, howc'er. 
 My life keeps rank with yours. 
 
 A nt. You are still my lov'd and best friend. 
 
 [ Ejeiint. 
 
 SCENE Il.t 
 
 EiiUr r£8CARA and DOCTOR. 
 
 PiD. Now, doctor, may I visit your iwtieut? 
 
 Doc. 1ft please your lordship: but he's instantly 
 To tiko the air hero in the gallery 
 liy my direction. 
 
 Pts. Pray thee, what's his disease ? 
 
 i 
 
 Doc. A very jH'stilcnt 'li-' 
 They call lycanthropia 
 
 Ptt. What's that ? 
 I need n dictionary to't. 
 
 lord. 
 
 • fniiyht] 1.0. fr»U(fht. 
 
 \ ScfM» Jl.) Th« Mtnio. A :fi»nory in tho raaidouco of 
 tho Cm ■ ■ rinllnniul (I iMilftco, il ni>|>cani : aeo 
 
 "'«• •!•' I t<«\vnnl» liic clu«o of tho pliiy,— 
 
 "I -I '■• "";>a/ac#,"&0.) 
 
S^' 
 
 
 SCE>'E ir. 
 
 / 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 93 
 
 Doc. I'll tell you.* 
 In those + that are possess'd with't there o'erflows 
 Such melancholy humour they imagine 
 Themselves to be transformed into wolves ; 
 Steal forth to church-yards iu the dead of night, 
 And dig dead bodies up : as two nights since 
 One met the duke 'bout midnight in a lane 
 Behind Saint Mark's church, with the leg of a man 
 Upon his shoulder ; and he howl'd fearfully ; 
 Said he was a wolf, only the difference 
 Was, a wolf's skin was + hairy on the outside, 
 / His on the inside ; bade them take theu" swords', 
 Rip up his flesh, and try : straight I was sent for, 
 And, having minister ed to him, found his grace 
 Very well recover'd. 
 
 Pes. I am glad ou't. 
 
 Doc. Yet not without some fear 
 Of a relapse. If he grow to his fit again, 
 I'll go a nearer way to work with him § 
 Than ever Paracelsus dream'd of; if 
 They'll give me leave, I'll buffet his madness out 
 
 of him. 
 Stand aside ; he comes. 
 
 Elder Ferdinand, Cardinal, Malatesti, and Bosola. 
 
 Ferd. Leave me. 
 
 Mai. Why doth your lordship love|| this so- 
 litariness ? 
 
 * III tell i/ou, &c.] " Ceste llaladie, comme tesmoigne 
 Aetius au sixiesme liure chapitre ii. <& Paulus au 3. liu. 
 chap. 16. & autres modemes, est une espece de melan- 
 cholia, mais estrangement noire & vehemente. Car ceus 
 qui en sont atteints sortent de leurs maisons au mois de 
 Feurier, contrefont les loups presques en toute chose, & 
 toute uuict ne font que courir par les coemitieres et 
 
 autour des sepulchres 
 
 . . . . vn de ces melancholiques Lycanthropes, que 
 
 nous appellons Loups garous il portoit 
 
 lors sur ses espaules la cuisse entiere & la jambe d'vn moH 
 
 II y eust aussi, comme recite 
 
 Job Fincel au 2. liu. des Miracles, vn villageois pres de 
 Pauie, I'an mil cinq cens quarante & vu, lequel pensoit 
 estre Loup, & assaillit plusieurs hommes par les champes : 
 en tua quelques vns. En fin, prins & non sans grande 
 diflBcult^, il asseura fenn^ment, qu'il estoit loup, & qu'il n't/ 
 auoit autre difference, sinon que les loups ordinairement 
 estoyent veins dehors, et lui I'estoit entre cvAr et chair. 
 Quelques vns trop inhumains & loups par effect, voulans 
 experimenter la verite du faict, lui firent plusieurs 
 raillades sur les bras & sur les jambes : puis connoissaas 
 leur faute, & 1' innocence de ce pauure melancholique, le 
 commirent aux chirurgiens pour le penser, entre les 
 mains desquels il mourut quelques iours apres." Gou- 
 lart, — Histoires admirahles et memorables de iwstre temps, 
 recueillies de plnsiturs aviliews, &c. tom. i. pp. 336-337. 
 ed. 1620. 
 
 t those'] The4to. of 1640, "these." 
 
 X wo^l The4to. of 1*540, "is." 
 
 § I'll go a nearer t.ay to work with hi,:i\ This line is 
 found only in the 4to. ,Df 1623. 
 
 II love] The 4to. of ie40 " use." 
 
 Ferd. Eagles commonly fly alone : they are 
 crows, daws, and starlings that flock together. 
 Look, what's that follows me? 
 
 Mai. Nothing, my lord. 
 
 Ferd. Yes. 
 
 Mai. 'Tis your .shadow. 
 
 Ferd. Stay it ; let it not haunt me. 
 
 Mai. Impossible, if you move, and the sun shine. 
 
 Ferd. I will throttle it. 
 
 [Throws himself down on his shadow. 
 
 Mai. 0, my lord, you are angry with nothing. 
 
 Ferd, You are a fool : how is't possible I should 
 catch my shadow, unless I fall upon'tl When I go 
 to hell, I mean to carry a bribe ; for, look you, good 
 gifts evermore make way for the worst persons. 
 
 Pes. Rise, good my lord. 
 
 Ferd. I am studying the art of patience. 
 
 Pes. 'Tis a noble vii-tue. 
 
 Ferd. To drive six snails before me from this 
 town to Moscow ; neither use goad nor whip to 
 them, but let them take their own time; — the 
 patient'st man i'the world match me for an expe- 
 riment ; — and I'll crawl after like a sheep-biter. 
 
 Card. Force him up. [They raise him. 
 
 - Ferd. Use me well, you were best. What I 
 have done, I have done : I'll confess nothing.* 
 
 Doc. Now let me come to him. — Are you mad, 
 my lord ? are you out of your princely wits 1 
 
 Ferd. What's he ? 
 
 Pes. Your doctor. 
 
 Ferd. Let me have his beard sawed off, and his 
 eye-brows filed more civil. 
 
 Doc. I must do mad tricks witTi him, for that's 
 the only way on't. — I have brought your grace a sa- 
 lamander's skin to keep you from sun-buiTiing. 
 
 Ferd. I have cruel sore eyes. 
 
 Doc. The white of a cockatrix's egg is present 
 remedy. 
 
 Ferd. Let it be a new-laid one, you were best. — 
 Hide me from him: physicians are like kings, — 
 They brook no contradiction. 
 
 Doc. Now he begins to fear me : now let me 
 alone with him. 
 
 Card. How now ! put off your gown ! t 
 
 * What I have done, I have done : I'll confess 7iothinff] 
 Like lago's ; 
 
 " Demand me nothing : what you know, you know : 
 From this time forth I never will speak word." 
 
 Othello, Act V. last scene. 
 
 f put off your gown] A piece of buffoonery, similar to 
 that with which the Grave-digger in Hamlet still amuses 
 the galleries, used to be pi'actised here ; for in the 4to. of 
 170S, the Doctor, according to the .ttage-direction, "puis 
 off his four cloaks, one after another." — What precedes was 
 wi-itten in 1S30 : since that time, the managers have pro- 
 perly restricted the Grave-digger to a single waistcoat. 
 
94 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 Dejects you ; but be you of happy comfort : 
 If you'll do one thing for me I'll entreat, 
 Though he had a cold tomb-stone o'er his bonea, 
 I'd make you what you would * be. 
 
 Bos. Any thing; 
 Give it met in a breath, and let me fly to't : 
 They that tliink long small expedition win. 
 
 Doc Let me have some forty urinals filled 
 with rose-water : he and I'll go pelt one another 
 with them. — Now ho begins to fear me. — Can 
 you fetch a friak, sir? — Let him go, let him go, 
 upon my jieril : I find by his eye he stands in 
 awe of me ; I'll make him as time as a dormouse. 
 
 FenL Can you fetch your frisks, sir I — I will 
 stamp him into a cullis,* flay ofi" his skin, to cover _For musing much o'the end cannot begin, 
 one of the anatomies this rogue hath set i'tbe 
 cold yonder in BarbcrChirurgeon's-halL — Hence, 
 hence ! you arc all of you like beasts for sacrifice : 
 there's nothing left of you but tongue and belly, 
 flattery and lechcrj-. [Exit. 
 
 Pa. Doctor, he did not fear you throughly. 
 
 Doc. True ; I was somewhat too forward. 
 
 Dot. Mercy upon me, what a fatal judgment 
 Hath fall'n upon this Ferdinand ! 
 
 Pea. Knows your grace 
 What accident hath brought vmto the prince 
 This strange distraction 1 
 
 Card, \aaidt\. I must feign somewhat. — Thus 
 they say it grew. 
 You have heard it rumour'd, for these many years 
 jronoTorftMrftlTnlly dies but there is seen 
 The shape of an old woman, which is given 
 By tradition to us to have been murder'd 
 By her nephews for her riches. Such a figure 
 Dnie" night, as the prince sat up late at's book, 
 Appeor'd to him ; when crying out for help. 
 The gentlemen ofs chamber found his grace 
 All on a cold sweat, alter'd much in face 
 And language : since which apparition, 
 He hath grown worse and worse, and I much fear 
 He cannot live. 
 
 Ho*. Sir, I wuuld speak with you. 
 
 Pu. We'll leave your grace, 
 Wiahing to the sick prince, our noble lord. 
 All health of mind and body. 
 
 Card. You are most welcome. 
 
 [Jtrcu«/ I'uicARA, MALATKari, oixi Doctor. 
 Are you come? M.—\_Atide\ This follow muiit 
 
 not know 
 By any uionnH I hml intolligcnce 
 lu our dmhcRh' deuili ; for, though 1 counsoll'd 
 
 it, 
 The full of all the engngomentf seem'd to grow 
 Froui Fordiimnd. Now, sir, how furee our aiatorf 
 I do ui.t iliiuk hut (Mjrrow makes her look 
 Like t*) an ofi dj d K'nnuont ; slio NhiUl now- 
 Tart* comfort from me. Why do you look so 
 wil.llyf 
 
 0. tl.., foriuua of your master hero tb« prince 
 <»ai»\ 8m unto I. p. 79. 
 
 Sidtr Julia. 
 Julia. Sir, will you come in to supper? 
 Card. I am busy ; leave me. 
 Jxdia, [aside]. What an excellent shape hath 
 that fellow! [Exit. 
 
 Card. 'Tis thus. Antonio lurks here in Milan : 
 luquu-e him out, and kill him. While he lives. 
 Our sister cannot many ; and I have thought 
 Of an excellent match for her. Do this, and 
 
 stj^le me 
 Thy advancement. 
 
 Bos. Biit+ by what means shall I find him out? 
 Card. There is a gentleman call'd Deho 
 Here in the camp, that hath been long approv'd 
 His loyal friend. Set eye upon that fellow; 
 Follow him to mass ; may bo Antonio, 
 Although he do account religion 
 But a school-name, for fashion of the world 
 May accompany him ; or else go inquire out 
 Delio's confessor, and see if you can bribe 
 Him to reveal it. There are a thousand ways 
 A man might find to trace him ; as to know 
 What fellows haimt the Jews for taking up 
 Great sums of money, for sure he's in want ; 
 ■Or else to go to the ^licturc-makers, and learn 
 Wbo bought § her picture lately : some of these 
 Happily may tiJte, 
 
 Bog. M'oU, I'll not fi'oeze i'tho business : 
 1 would see that wretched thing, Antonio, 
 Above all sights i'the world. 
 
 Card. Do, and bo happy. [Exit. 
 
 Bos. This fellow doth brood basilisks in'.s 
 eyes, 
 lh«'8 nothing else but murder; yot its seems 
 Not to have notice of the duchess' death. ' 
 
 I 'Tis his cunning : I nmst follow his example ; 
 \ There cmmot be a surer way to trace 
 >Thiiu -thit^ ^ll iilil fill 
 
 Hf-tiitrr Jvi.tx. 
 Julia. So, sir, yon nro well mot 
 Jiot. How now ! 
 
 • tfouhl] Tlio <t... ..ficio, "»A..iiM." 
 I It Ki.] Tho •lt«. .if liWO, 'nu it." 
 ] //urKuiiilttoU ill llio 4lr. of Km). 
 I boutr^) Tho 4 to*, "brmi/kt." 
 
SCENB II. 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 95 
 
 Julia. Nay, the doors are fast enough : 
 Now, sii-, I will make you confess your treachery. 
 
 Bos. Treachery ! 
 
 Julia. Yes, confess to me 
 Which of my women 'twas you hir'd to put 
 Love-powder into my drink 1 
 
 Bos. Love-powder ! 
 
 Julia. Yes, when I was at Malfi. 
 Why should I fall in love with such a face else ? 
 I have already sufFer'd for thee so much pain, 
 The only remedy to do me good 
 Is to kill my longing. 
 
 Bos. Sure, your pistol holds 
 Nothing but perfumes or kissing-comfits.* 
 Excellent lady ! 
 
 You have a pretty way on't to discover 
 Your longing. Come, come, I'll disarm you, 
 And arm you thus : yet this is wondrous strange. 
 
 Julia. Compare thy form and my eyes together, 
 You'll find my love no such great miracle. 
 Now you'll say 
 
 I am wanton : this nice modesty in ladies 
 Is but a troublesome familiar 
 That haunts them. 
 
 Bos. Know you me, Lam a blunt soldier. 
 
 Julia. The better : 
 Sure, there wants fire where thei-e are no lively 
 
 sparks 
 Of roughness. 
 
 Bos. And I jffiant compliment. 
 
 Julia. Why, ignorance 
 In courtship cannot make you do amiss. 
 If you have a heart to do well. 
 
 Bos. You are very fair. 
 
 Julia. Nay, if you lay beauty to my charge, 
 I must plead unguilty. 
 I Bos. Your bright eyes 
 /Carry a quiver of darts in them sharper 
 (Than sun-beams. 
 
 Julia. You will mar me with commendation. 
 Put yourself to the charge of courting me, 
 Whei-eas now I woo you. 
 
 Bos. [aside'\ I have it, I will work upon this 
 creature. — 
 Let us grow most amorously familiar : 
 If the great cardinal now should see me thus, 
 Would he not count me a villain ? 
 
 Julia. No; he might count me a wanton. 
 Not lay a scruple of offence on you ; 
 For if I see and steal a diamond. 
 The fault is not i'the stone, but in me the thief 
 That purloins it. I am sudden with you : 
 
 * kifsivg-comjUs] i. e. perfumed sugar-plums, to sweeten 
 the breath. 
 
 We that are great women of pleasure use to cut off 
 These uncertain wishes and unquiet longings. 
 And in an instant join the sweet delight 
 And the pretty excuse togethei*. Had you been 
 
 i'the street. 
 Under my chamber-window, even there * 
 I should have courted you. 
 
 Bos. 0, you are an excellent lady ! 
 
 Julia. Bid me do somewhat for you presently 
 To express I love you. 
 
 Bos. I will ; and if you love me. 
 Fail not to effect it. 
 
 The cardinal is grown wondrous melancholy ; 
 Demand the cause, let him not put you off 
 With feign'd excuse; discover the main ground on't. 
 
 Julia. Why would you know this? 
 
 Bos. I have depended on him, 
 And I hear that he is fall'n in some disgrace 
 With the emperor : if he be, like the mice 
 That forsake falling houses, I would shift 
 To other dependance. 
 
 Julia. You shall not need 
 Follow the wars : I'll be your maintenance. 
 
 Bos. And I your loyal servant : but I cannot 
 Leave my calling. 
 
 Julia. Not leave an ungrateful 
 General for the love of a sweet lady ! 
 You are like some cannot sleep in feather-beds. 
 But must have blocks for their pillows. 
 
 Bos. Will you do this ] 
 
 Julia. Cunningly. 
 
 Bos. To-morrow I'll expect the intelligence. 
 
 Julia. To-morrow ! get you into my cabinet; 
 You shall have it with you. Do not delay me. 
 No more than I do you : I am like one 
 That is condemn'd ; I have my pardon promis'd, 
 But I would see it seal'd. Go, get you in : 
 You shall see me wind my tongue about his heart 
 Like a skein of silk. {Exit Bosola. 
 
 Re-enter Cardinal. 
 Card. Where are you 1 
 
 Enter Servants. 
 Servants. Here. 
 
 Card. Let none, upon your lives, have conference 
 With the Prince Fei'dinand, unless I know it. — 
 [Aside] In this distraction he may reveal 
 The murder. [Exeunt Servants. 
 
 Yond's my lingering consumption : 
 I am weary of her, and by any means 
 Would be quit of. 
 
 * Under my chamber window, even there] This line is 
 found only in the 4to. of 1623. 
 
96 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 \ 
 
 Julia. How now, my lord ! what oils you ? 
 Card. Nothing. 
 
 Julia. 0, you are much alter'd : 
 Come, I must be your secretary, and remove 
 This lead from off your bosom : what's the matter? 
 Card. I may not tell you. 
 Julia. Are you so far in love with sorrow 
 You cannot part with part of it? or think you 
 I cannot love your grace when you ai'o sad 
 As well as merry ? or do you suspect 
 I, that have been a secret to your heart 
 These many winters, cannot be the same 
 Unto your tongue ? 
 
 Card. Satisfy thy longing, — 
 The only way to make thee keep my counsel 
 la, not to tell thee.* 
 
 Julia. Tell your echo this. 
 Or flatterers, that like echoes still report 
 What they hear though most imperfect, and not 
 
 me; 
 For if that you be true unto yourself, 
 I'll know. 
 
 Card. Will you rack me ? 
 Julia, No, judgment shall 
 Draw it from you : it is an equal fault, 
 To tfU one's secrets unto all or none. 
 Card. The firrft ai-gucs folly. 
 Julia. But the last tyranny. 
 Card. Very well: why, imagine I have com- 
 mitted 
 Some secret dec-d which I desire the world 
 May never hear of. 
 
 Julia, Therefore may not I know it ? 
 You have concciil'd for mo as great a sin 
 A* a<lult«ry. Sir, never was occasion t 
 For i>erfect trial of my constancy 
 Till now : sir, I bosecch you — 
 Card. You'll repent it. 
 Julia. Never. 
 
 Card. It hurries thee to ruin: I'll not toll thee. 
 lie well ailvia'd, and think what danger 'lis 
 To receive a prince's uecrets ; they tliat do. 
 Had nood liavo their broasta hoop'd with adamant:^ 
 
 * Tlt4 onlf tnty lo uinlt Ihtt ly</) iHf enunttl 
 /<, not lo Ull ihtr\ Ho 8liiik<Ni|KMra, whom uiir author 
 •o frviUsblly hututon : 
 
 " aud for •oorooy. 
 Nutiuly cl.».r ■ f •■ ■ 
 TImiu wilt II ' it not know." 
 
 /»'. Aclll. Ht'. 3. 
 t Atn>l^ii ■ rho4to. oriMO: 
 
 'i you." 
 t " ' ', ' irifA (iidiiMin/] Ko- 
 
 •oiiil>: 
 
 ' Hbltoa of bnuwo." 
 ' 't^r Aift, lOIS, fUg. a. 
 
 } 
 
 To contain them. I pray thee, yet be eatiafied ; 
 Examine thine own frailty ; 'tis more easy 
 To tie knots than unloose them : 'tis a secret 
 That, like a lingering poison, may chance lie 
 Spread in tliy veins, and kill thee seven year hence. 
 
 Julia. Now you dally with me. 
 
 Card. No more ; thou shalt know it. 
 By my appointment the great Duchess of Malfi 
 And two of her young children, four nights since, 
 AVere strangl'd. 
 
 Julia. heaven ! sir, what have you done ! 
 
 Card. How now? how settles this? think you 
 your bosom 
 Will be a grave dark and obscure enough 
 For such a secret ? 
 
 Julia. You have undone yourself, sir. 
 
 Card. Why? 
 
 Julia. It lies not in me to conceal it. 
 
 Card. No? 
 Come, I will swear you to't upon this book. 
 
 Julia. Most religiously. 
 
 Card. Kiss it. [S7*e kisses the book. 
 
 Now you shall never utter it ; thy curiosity 
 Hath undone thee: thou'rt poison'd with that 
 
 book; 
 Because I knew thou couldst not keep my counsel, 
 I have bound thee to't by death. 
 
 Re-enter Bosola. 
 
 Bos. For pity-sake, hold ! 
 
 Card. Ha, Bosola ! 
 
 Julia. I forgive you 
 This equal piece of justice you have done; 
 For I betray'd your counsel to that fellow : 
 1 le over-heard it ; that was the cause I siiid 
 It lay not in me to conceal it 
 
 Jios. O foolish woman, 
 Couldst not thou have poison'd him ? 
 
 Julia. 'Tis weiikuess, ^ 
 
 -Too much to think what should have been done.! 
 
 I g". 
 I know not whither. [Dies. 
 
 Canl. Wiiorefore com'st thou hither' 
 
 Has. That I might find a great miui like yourself, 
 Not out of his wits oa the Lord Ferdinand, 
 To ri'inembcr my service. 
 
 C'trd. I'll have thee how'd in pieces. 
 
 J'los. i^liiku not yourself suuh a pronu.so of tiiat 
 life 
 Which is not your, to dispose of. 
 
 Card. Who plac'd thoo hi ro 1 
 
 Jilt*. Her lust, aa she intended. 
 
 t'cii«/. Very well : 
 Now you know nio for your fcUowmurderer. 
 
I SCENE lU. 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 97 
 
 Bos. And wherefore should you lay fair marble 
 colours 
 Upon your rotten purposes to me] 
 Unless you imitate some that do plot great 
 
 treasons, 
 And when they have done, go hide themselves 
 
 i'the graves 
 Of those were actors in't? 
 
 Card. No more ; there is 
 A fortune attends thee. , 
 
 Bos. Shall I go sue to * Fortune any longer 1 / 
 'Tis the fool's pilgrimage. 
 
 Card. I have honours in store for thee. 
 Bos. There are many + ways that conduct to 
 seeming honour, 
 And some of them very dirty ones. 
 
 Card. Throw to the devil 
 Thy melancholy. The fire burns well ; 
 What need we keep a stirring oft, and make 
 A greater J smother ] Thou wilt kill Antonio ! 
 Bos. Yes. 
 
 Cai-d. Take up that body. 
 Bos. I think I shall 
 Shortly grow the common bier for church-yards. 
 Card. I will allowthee some dozen of attendants 
 To aid thee in the mui-der. 
 
 Bos. 0, by no means. Physicians that apply 
 horse-leeches to any rank swelling use to cut oft' 
 their tails, that the blood may run through them 
 the faster: let me have no train when I go to 
 shed blood, lest it make me have a greater when 
 I ride to the gallows. 
 
 Card. Come to me after midnight, to help to 
 remove 
 That body to her own lodging : I'll give out 
 She died o'the plague; 'twill breed the less 
 
 inquiry 
 After her death. 
 
 Bos. Where's Castruccio her husband ? 
 Card. He's rode to Naples, to take possession 
 Of Antonio's citadel. 
 
 Bos. Believe me, you have done a very happy 
 
 turn. 
 Card. Fail not to come : there is the master-key 
 Of our lodgings ; and by that you may conceive 
 What trust I plant in you. 
 
 Bos. You shall find me ready. [E.rit Cardinal. 
 poor Antonio, though nothing be so needful 
 To thy estate as pity, yet I find 
 Nothing so dangerous ! I must look to my footing ; 
 In such slippery ice-pavements men had need 
 
 To be frost-nail'd well, they may break their necks 
 I else ; 
 
 \ The precedent's here afore me. How this man 
 i Bears up in blood ! seems fearless ! AVhy, 'tis well : 
 •U.Security some men call the suburbs of hell, 
 vOnly a dead wall between. Well, good Antonio, 
 |ril seek thee out; and all my care shall be 
 >To put thee into safety fi'om the reach 
 ipi these most cruel biters that have got 
 -Some of thy blood already. It may be, 
 I'll join with thee in a most just revenge : 
 The weakest arm is strong enough that strikes 
 With the sword of justice. Still methinks the 
 
 duchess 
 Haunts me : there, there ! — 'Tis nothing but my 
 
 melancholy. 
 P Penitence, let me tnily taste thy cup, 
 hat throws men down only to raise * them up ! 
 
 lExii. 
 
 SCEN E m.t 
 
 E-nter Antonio and Delio. 
 
 Delia. Yond's the cardinal's window. This for- 
 tification 
 Grew from the ruins of an ancient abbey ; 
 And to yond side o'the river lies a wall, 
 Piece of a cloister, vrhich in my opinion 
 Gives the best echo that you ever heard, 
 So hollow and so dismal, and withal 
 So plain in the distinction of our words. 
 That many have suppos'd it is a spirit 
 That answei's. 
 
 Ant. I do love these ancient ruins. 
 We never tre^d upon them but We set 
 Our foot upon some reverend history : 
 And, questionless, here in this open court. 
 Which now lies naked to the injuries 
 Of stormy weather, some men t lie interr'd 
 Lov'd the church so well, and gave so largely to't. 
 They thought it should have canopied their 
 
 bones 
 Till dooms-day ; but all things have their end : 
 hurches and cities, which' have diseases like to 
 
 * ro] The4to. of 1640, "a." 
 
 t many} The4t(.-. of 1623, "a many." 
 
 X greater] The 4t-o. of 1640, "ffreat." 
 
 Must have like death that we have. 
 
 Echo. Like death that we have. 
 -. Belio. Now the echo hath caught you. 
 
 Ant. It groan' d, methought, and gave 
 A very deadly accent. 
 
 Echo. Deadh 
 
 * raise] The 4to. of 1640, "rite." 
 
 t Scene III.] The same. A fortification. 
 
 X men] Omitted in the 4to. of 1640. 
 
98 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Dtlio. I told you 'twas a pretty one : you may 
 make it 
 A buutstnan, or a fulconcr, a musicinn, 
 Or a tbiug of sorrow. 
 
 Echo. A thing of sorrow. 
 
 Am. Ay, Kiire, that suita it best. 
 
 Echo. That tuitt it best. 
 
 Ant. 'Tis very like my wife's voice. 
 
 £cho. Ay, wife's voice. 
 
 Ddio. Come, let us walk fiirtbcr from't. 
 I would not have you go* to tlie cardinal's to-night: 
 Do not 
 
 Echo. Do no.'. 
 
 Delio. Wisdom dotb not more moderate wasting 
 sorrow 
 Than time : take time for't ; be mindful of tby 
 safety. 
 
 Ecfto. Be mindful of thy safety. 
 
 ^Ant. Necessity compels me : 
 lake scrutiny throughout the passages t 
 < If your own life, you'll find it impossible 
 To fly your fate. 
 
 Echo. 0, Jly your fate .' 
 
 Jhlio. Hark ! the dead stones seem to have 
 pity on you, 
 Anil pivo you good counsel. 
 
 Ant. Echo, I will not talk with thee, 
 For thou art a dea<l tiling. 
 
 Echo. Thou art a dead thiny. 
 
 Ant. .My duchess is asleep now. 
 And her little ones, I hope sweetly : heaven, 
 Shall I never wo her more ? 
 
 Echo. Never see her more. 
 
 Ant. I mark'd not one repetition of the echo 
 nut that ; and on the sudden a clear light 
 Prf»cnted me a face folded in sorrow. 
 
 JJrIio. Your fancy merely. 
 
 Ant. Come, I'll be out of thin ague,^ 
 For to live thus i^ not indeed to live ; 
 It In a mockery and abuKO of life : ,' 
 I will not honcof.irtb save myself by k»lv< - ; 
 I.o'f nil, or nothing. tj 
 
 Your own virtue nave you! 
 I li your vldust Hon, and second you ; 
 
 U may l<o thiit the night of his own blood 
 Kpr<«<I lilt no sweet a figure may begot 
 The moro oom|>AHMion. However, faro yon 
 
 well. 
 11i(Hi|{h In our miserioi Fortutio havn a part, 
 
 ■ a Alt«niUon eftiieplKy, 
 vi.Johily right haro). Th. 
 
 Yet in our noble sufiferings she bath none : 
 Contempt of pain, that we may call our own. 
 
 [Eteunl. 
 
 SCENE IV.» 
 
 Snttr Cardinal, Pescara, Mai.atesti, Rookrigo, and 
 
 Grisolan. 
 
 Ca>d. You shall not watch to-nigbt by the sick 
 prince ; 
 His grace is very well recover'd. 
 Mai. Good my lord, suffer us. 
 Card. 0, by no means ; 
 The noise, and change of object in his eye, 
 i Doth more distract him : I pray, all to bed ; 
 ' And though you hear him in his violent fit, 
 I Do not rise, I entreat you. 
 Pes. So, sir; we shall not. 
 Card. Nay, I must have you promise 
 I Upon your honours, for I was enjoiu'd to't 
 ' By himself; and be secm'd to urge it seiiisibly. 
 ! Pes. Let our honours bind this trifle. 
 Card. Nor any of your followers. 
 Med. Neither. 
 
 Card. It may be, to make trial of your promise, 
 When he's asleep, myself vnW rise and feign 
 Some of his mad tricks, and cry out for help, 
 And feign myself in danger. 
 
 Mid. If your throat were cutting, 
 rduatcomeatyou,nowI have protestedagaiust it. 
 Card. Wliy, I thank you. 
 Uris. 'Twas a foul storm to-night. 
 Rod. The Lord Ferdinand's chamber shook like 
 
 an osier. 
 Mai. 'Twas nothing but pure kindness in tho 
 devil. 
 To rock his own child. 
 
 [Exeunt all txttpt Iht Canliicil. 
 Curd. The rea-sou why I would not suffer tin • 
 Aliout my brother, is, because at midnight 
 I limy with bettor privacy convey 
 .lul Ill's body to her own lodging. O, my conscience! 
 1 would pray now ; but tho devd tjikos away my 
 
 heiu-t 
 For having any confidence in pn»yer. 
 About this hour 1 appointed Bosoln 
 To fetch tho body : when ho hath serr'd my turn. 
 
 Hi- dioH. ■/■:>;• 
 
 KntfT llost ' 
 /!<>*. IIh! 'twHM the cariliii:i. rt vuhc. i n-.w \ 
 him name 
 MoNola and my death. I • i ting. 
 
 • S:iMt /r.J 'I'lio miino. .\:: ., if<i. 
 
 Jonco ol Uio I'anllniU miU l-'ortlipnd : mo Hot* f,f>.' 
 

 THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 'JO 
 
 Enter Ferdinand. 
 . ^Ferd. Strangling is a very quiet death. 
 
 Bos. [aside]. Nay, then, I see I must stand 
 
 upon my guard. 
 Ferd. What say [you] to that 1 whisper softly ; 
 do you agree to't? So; it must be done i'the 
 dark : the cai-dinal would net for a thousand 
 pounds the doctor should see it. \_Exit:-. 
 
 Bos. My death is plotted ; here's the conse- 
 quence of murder. 
 
 We value not desert nor Christian breath, 
 
 \ 
 ;When we kno\v black deeds must be cur'd with 
 
 death. 
 
 Eater Antonio and Servant. 
 
 Serv. Here stay, sir, and be confident, I pray : 
 
 I'll fetch you a dark lantern. [Exit. 
 
 Ant. Could I take him at his prayers, 
 There were hope of pardon. 
 
 Bos. Fall right, my sword ! — [Stabs him. 
 
 I'll not give thee so much leisure as to pray. 
 A nt. 0, I am gone ! Thou hast ended a long 
 suit 
 In a minute. 
 
 Bos. What art thou ? 
 Ant. A most wretched thing, 
 That only have thy benefit in death, 
 ' To appear myself. 
 
 UWe follow after bubbles blown in the air. 
 ]^ Pleasure of life, what is't ^ only the good hours 
 :v..Of an ague ; merely a preparative to rest, 
 I To endure vexation. I do not ask 
 I The process of my death ; only commend me 
 To Delio. 
 
 Bos. Break, heart ! 
 » ^ Tit,. And let my son fly the courts of princes. 
 
 [Dies. 
 Bos. Thou seem'st to have lov'd Antonio ? 
 Serv. I brought him hither, 
 To have reconcil'd him to * the cardinal. 
 
 Bos. I do not ask thee that. 
 Take him up, if thou tender thine own life. 
 And bear him where the lady Julia 
 Was wont to lodge.f — 0, my fate moves swift ! 
 I have this cardinal in the forge already ; 
 Now I'll bring him to the hammer. direful 
 
 misprision ! 
 I will not imitate things glorious, 
 o more than base ; I'll be mine own example. — 
 n, on, and look thou represent, for silence, 
 The thing thou bear'st. [E.ceunt. 
 
 Re-enter Servant with a lantern. 
 Serv. Where are you, sir ? 
 Ant. Very near my home. — Bosola ! 
 Serv. 0, misfortune! 
 
 Bos. Smother thy pity, thou art dead else. — 
 Antonio ! 
 
 iThe man I would have sav'd 'hove mine own life! 
 tye are merely the stars' tennis-balls, struck and 
 
 banded 
 
 Which way please them. — good Antonio, . 
 I'll whisper one thing in thy dying ear 
 Shall make thy heai't break quickly! thy fair 
 duchess 
 
 And two sweet children 
 
 Ant. Their very names 
 Kindle a little life in me. 
 Bos. Are murder'd. 
 Ant. Some men have wish'd to die 
 .^, At the hearing of sad tidings ; I am glad 
 
 That I shall do't in sadness : * I would not now 
 ■- Wish my wounds balm'd nor heal'd, for I have 
 
 no use 
 -To put my life to. In all our quest of greatness, 
 .Like wanton boys, whose pastime is their care, 
 
 * sadness] i. e. seriousness, earnest. 
 
 SCENE V + 
 Enter Cardinal, with a bool: 
 •^ Ca7-d. I am puzzled in a question about hell : 
 He says, in hell there's one material fire. 
 And yet it shall not burn all men alike. \ 
 
 -vLay him by. How tedious is a guilty conscience !\ 
 When I look into the fish-ponds in my garden, 
 Methinks I see a thing arm'd with a rake, 
 T]farseems to strike at me. 
 
 Enter Bosola, and Servant bearing Antonio's hody. 
 
 Now, art thou come ? 
 Thou look'st ghastly : 
 
 There sits in thy face some great determination 
 Mix'd with some fear. 
 
 Bos. Thus it lightens into action : 
 I am come to kill thee. 
 
 Card. Ha ! — Help ! our guard ! 
 
 Bos. Thou art deceiv'd ; 
 They are out of thy howling. 
 
 Card. Hold; and § I will faithfully divide 
 Revenues with thee. " 
 
 Eos. Thy prayers and proffers 
 Are both unseasonable. 
 
 * to] The 4L0. ofl(i40, "with." 
 f where the lady Julia 
 
 Was wont to lodge] i. e. iu that part of the palace 
 where, &c. : see note f, p. 52. 
 
 X Scene V.] Another apartment in the same. 
 § and] Omitted in the 4to. of 1640. 
 
 n 2 
 
Xf^' 
 
 iy^ 
 
 100 
 
 1^ 
 
 1 
 
 UK DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 Card. Raise the watch ! we are betray 'd ! 
 
 B(jS. I have cotifinM your flight : 
 I'll sufler your retre;it to Julia's chamber, 
 I But no further. 
 I Card, Help ! we nro l>ctrayVl! 
 
 j BiU<r, abort,* Pescara, MAi.ATt:j5Tl, Rodekioo, and 
 
 . GitUMJLAN. 
 
 I Mttl. Listen. 
 
 Card. My dukedom for rescue ! 
 
 R(hI. Fie upon his counterfeiting ! 
 
 Mai. Why, 'tis not the ciirJiual. 
 
 Rod. Yc«, yoH, 'tis he : 
 But I'll see him hang'd ere I'll go down to hinl. 
 
 Card. Here's a plot upon me ; I am assaulted I 
 I aiu lost, ' 
 
 Uuloss some rescue ! 
 
 Oris. He doth this pretty well ; 
 But it will not serve to laugh me out of mipc 
 honour* I 
 
 Curd. Tlie sword's at my throat ! 
 
 Rod. You would not bawl so loud then. ' 
 
 MaL Come, come, let's go 
 To bod : he told us thus much aforehand. 
 
 Pfj. Ho wish'd you should not come at him : 
 
 but, believe't, 
 
 The accent of the voice sounds not in jest : i 
 
 I'll down to him, howsoever, and with engines ' 
 
 Force ope the doors. [Ex^it above. 'J 
 
 Rod. Let's follow him nloof^ 
 And note bow the cardinal will laugh at him. 
 
 \Etrunl, above, MalaT(:sTI, lloDEKIco, and 
 GultiOI.AN. 
 
 Jioi. There's for you first, 
 'Chum you shall not uubarricadc the door 
 To let in rescue. [A'tlln the Servant. 
 
 Card. What cause liast thou to pursue my life ] 
 
 Hot. Look there. 
 
 Card. Antonio ! 
 
 Hum. Slain by my hand unwittingly. 
 IVay, nn<l be hudden : when thou kill'd'st thy 
 
 \iiiiitcr, 
 II10U took'xt from Justice her most equal bidance, 
 Ami left hor naught but herf sword. 
 Card. O, nierey ! 
 
 Ho» .Now it MevuiH thy greatusu was only 
 outward ; 
 For (hou frtll'nt flutter of thyself than calamity 
 ("au drive Ihoo. 1*11 ni>t wojitu longer time ; thoro ' 
 
 \Stabi hiiH 
 •^ Card. Tlioii hiuit hurt nio. 
 
 Hot. AKaiii I [Slab$ him aijain. 
 
 ■totfo ; Um raUod plaUbmi 
 
 'J ilic ii.j. uf loiu, "iki: 
 
 Card. Shall I die like a leveret, 
 Without any resistance ? — Help, help, help ! 
 I am slain ! 
 
 Enter Fep.disaSD. 
 Ferd. Tiie alarum ! give me a fresh horse ; 
 Rally the vaunt-guard, or the day is lost. 
 Yield, yield ! I give you the honour of arms, 
 Shake my sword over you; will you yield? 
 Card. Help me ; I am your brother ! 
 Ferd. The devil ! 
 My brother fight upon the adverse party ! 
 
 [Ik woundt the C:u-duial, and, in the tcujfle, 
 gives BosoLA ?iis d/.ath-tcound. 
 
 There flies your ransom. 
 
 Card. justice ! 
 I suffer now for what hath former bin : 
 Sorrow is held the eldest child of sin.* 
 
 Ftrd. Now you're brave fellows. Caisar's for- 
 tune was harder than Ponipey's; Cicsar died in 
 the arms of prosperity, Pompey at the fe6t of 
 disgrace. Y'ou both died iu the field. The pain's 
 nothing : pain many times is taken away with the 
 apprehension of greater, as the tooth-ache with 
 the sight of a barber that comes to pull it. out: 
 there's philosophy for you. 
 
 Boa. Now my revenge is perfect. — Sink, thou 
 ! main cause [KilU FKRDINA^D. 
 
 Of my undoing ! — The last part of my life 
 Hath done me best service. 
 
 « Ferd. Give mo some wet hay ; I um broken- 
 winded. 
 I do account this world but a dog-kennel : 
 I will vault credit and atl'ect high pleasures 
 Beyond death. t 
 
 Bos. He seems to come to himself, 
 Now he's so near the bottom. 
 
 Frrd. My^isterLOjn^ sister I there's tli ecau so 
 on't * 
 
 A'hothor we full by ambition^ Ulood, or lust, 
 Akc diamonds, we aj*o cut with our own ilu.st. 
 
 Card. Thou hast thy payment too, 
 Bos. Yes, 1 hold my weary soul in my teeth ; 
 'Tirt ready to part from me. I do glory 
 That thou, which stood'st like a Jaigo pyramid 
 lU'gun upon a largo and ample hajjic, 
 Sludt end in a little point, a kind of nothing. 
 
 h'lltfr, bttotC, I'lCaCAlU, MAI.ATfiSTI, RODRninO, flil.f 
 UUIHOI.AN. 
 
 Pes. How now, my lord ! "" 
 Mat. () HJid ilisuKter ! 
 Rwl. How comes thiN 
 
 • t $t^ffrrtutr, Ac, J Muo i,..i,. . ^.. 44. 
 
 t Bfjiond rfrtiM] round only In tho 4 to. of 1033. 
 
SCENE V. 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF MALFI. 
 
 101 
 
 Bos. Revenge for the Duchess of Malfimurdei-'d 
 By the Arragonian brethren ; for Antonio 
 [ain by this * hand ; for lustful Julia 
 lison'd by this man ; and lastly for myself, 
 lat was an actor in the main of all 
 !uch 'gainst mine own good nature, yet i'the end 
 jlected. 
 Pes. How now, my lord ! 
 Card. Look to my brother : 
 He gave us these lai'ge wounds, as we were 
 
 struggling 
 Here i'the rushes.f And now, I pray, let me 
 JBeiaid by and never thought of. [Dies. 
 
 I Pes. How fatally, it seems, he did withstand 
 ^is own rescue ! 
 
 s Mai. Thou wretched thing of blood, J 
 'How came Antonio by his death ? 
 Bos. In a mist ; I know not how : 
 lUch a mistake as I have often seen 
 In a play. 0, I am gone ! 
 
 ^''e are only like dead walls or vaulted graves, 
 That, ruiu'd, yield no echo, Fai-e you well. 
 It may be pain, but uo harm, to me to die 
 
 * tltvi] The three earliest 4tos. "his." 
 t the rushea} See note t, p. '-1- 
 i thing of blood] Shakespeare has 
 " from ftice to foot 
 " He i^as a thinff of blood." 
 
 Coriolanus, Act ii. Sc. 2, 
 
 In so good a quarrel. 0, this gloomy world ! 
 1 In what a shadow, or deep pit of darkness, 
 H Doth womanish and fearful mankind live! 
 'SLet worthy minds ne'er stagger in distrust 
 ^ To suffer death or shame for what is just : 
 _Mine is another voyage. [Dies. 
 
 Pes. The noble Delio, as I came to the palace, 
 
 Told me of Antonio's being here, and show'd me 
 
 A pretty gentleman, his son and heir. 
 
 Filter Delio, and Antonio's Sou. 
 
 3Ial. sir, you come too late ! 
 Delio. I heard so, and 
 Was arm'd for't, ere I came. Let us make noble 
 
 use 
 Of this great ruin ; and join all our force 
 To establish this young hopeful gentleman 
 ' In's mother's right. These wretched eminent 
 ' things 
 
 V Leave no more fame behind 'em, than should one 
 V Fall in a frost, and leave his print in snow ; 
 As soon as the sun shines, it ever melts. 
 Both form and matter.. I have ever thought . 
 I fiSrature doth nothing so great for great men 
 i I As when she's pleas'd to make them lords of truth : 
 llntegrity of lifeisJame^s^bestjViend, \ 
 
 ' JWhrclTnobly, beyond death, shalTcrown tlie end. .' 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE, 
 
Tilt DtuiU Latr-cdie. Or, Wlun Women goe to Law, the Deuill u/uH of Basinesse. A tuio Tru'j^comadxi. Thf trut 
 and per/tet Co pit from the Originall. As it was approoatdly well Acted by her Maietties Seruants. )rritleH by John 
 }FtbtUr. Son quam diu, std quam beM, London, Printed by A. M. for John Grismand, and art to be sold at his Shop 
 in Pauls AUty at the Signe of the Gunne. 1023. 4to. 
 
 That this play must have been written but a short time before it w;is given to the press is evident from the 
 rolluH'iug allusion in it to the reiassacre of tho English by the Dutch at Amboyua, which took place iu February, 
 16-J-i ; 
 
 " Ilnw ! go to tlio East Indies, and so many Hollanders gone to fetch sauce for their pickled herrings ! some 
 have boon peppered there too lately." Act IV. Sc. 2. 
 
 Whence tho author derived the story of The Devil's Law Case I know not. The following observations by 
 Langbaino are liardly worth qunting : " An accident like that of Romelio's stabbing Contarino out of malice, which 
 turned to liiit preservation, is (if I misUiko not,) in Skcnkiu^i liis Observations: At le.ist lam sure, the like 
 hiip|M.'ua<i to I'lionuus Jason, as you may see in Q. Val. Maximus, lib. i. cap. 8. Tlie like story is related in 
 (juuhtrt's Uistoii-ts AJmirabUs, tome I. p. 178." AccowU oftlu Eng. Drum. Potts, &.C. 
 
TO THE RIGHT WORTHY AND ALL-ACCOMPLISHED GENTLEMAN, SIR THOMAS FINCH, 
 
 KNIGHT BARONET.* 
 Sir, 
 
 Let it not appear strange, tliat I do aspire to your patronage. TMngs that taste of any 
 goodness love to be sheltered near goodness : nor do I flatter in this, which I hate, only touch at the 
 original copy of your virtues. Some of my other works, as Tli£ White Devil, The Duchess of Malji, 
 Guise,']' and others, you have formerly seen : I present this humbly to kiss your hands, and to find your 
 allowance : nor do I much doubt it, knowing the greatest of the Ctesars have cheerfully entertained less 
 poems than this ; and had I thought it unworthy, I had not inquired after so worthy a patronage. 
 Yourself I understand to be all courtesy : I doubt not therefore of your acceptance, but resolve that my 
 election is happy ; for which favour done me, I shall ever rest 
 
 Your worship's humbly devoted, 
 
 John Webster. 
 
 TO THE JUDICIOUS READER, 
 
 I HOLD it in these kind of poems with that of Horace, Sapientia prima stultitid cavuisse, J to be 
 free from those vices which proceed from ignorance ; of which, I take it, this play will ingeniously 
 acquit itself. I do chiefly therefore expose it to the judicious : locus est ef plurihus uynhris,% others 
 have leave to sit down and read it, who come unbidden. But to these, should a man present them with 
 the most excellent music, it would delight them no more than auriculas citharce coUecta sorde 
 dolentes \\. I will not further insist upon the approvement of it ; for I am so far from praising myself, 
 that I have not given way to divers of my friends, whose unbegged commendatory verses offered them- 
 selves to do me service in the front of this poem. A great part of the grace of this, I confess, lay in 
 action ; yet can no action ever be gracious, where the decency of the language, and ingenious structure 
 of the scene, arrive not to make up a perfect harmony. What I have failed of this, you that have 
 approved my other works, (when you have read this, ) tax me of. For the rest, Xon eyo ventosce plebis 
 suffragia venor.'^\ 
 
 * Sir Thomas Finch, Knight Baronet] Was the second son of Sir Mo.vle Finch. His mother having been created 
 Countess of Wiuchelsea, he, on her decease in 163j, succeeded to her honours as first Earl of Winchelsea. He 
 married Cecilie, daughter of Sir John Weutworth, Bart. ; and died in 1639. In the later editions of CoUins'a 
 Peerage his death is fixed in 1634 ; but see Hasted's BUt. of Kent, vol. iii. p. 199, and the Corrigenda to it, p. 48. 
 
 t Guiae'] A lost play. See the Introductory Essay to this work. 
 
 X Sapientia prima, drc] Epist. i. 1. 
 
 I locui est, &c.] Horace, Epist. i. 5. 
 
 II auriculas citharce, &c.] Horace, Epist. i. 2. 
 If Ncm ego, &c.] Horace, Epist. i. 19. 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONyE. 
 
 RoMELio, a merchant, son of Lbjnoba. 
 
 CoifTARiMo, a nobleman. 
 
 Ercolk, a kuight of Malta. 
 
 CmspiASo, a Spanish lawyer. 
 
 Julio, bis son. 
 
 Ariosto, an advocate. 
 
 CoNTii.ri'0, 11 lawyer. 
 
 Sanitonei.la. 
 
 Prospero. 
 
 Baptista. 
 
 A Capucliin. 
 
 Two Siirtfoons. 
 
 JuJgua, Lawyers, BcUmcn, Register, Miirshal, Ucralil, and Senmut!<. 
 
 Leonora. 
 
 Joi.KSTA, her dnu(;ht«r. 
 
 Amiioi.ei.la, a nun. 
 
 WiMrni:i«. 
 
THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE 1." 
 Enter Bomelio and Prospero. 
 
 Pros. You have shown a world of wealth : I 
 did not think 
 There had been a merchant liv'd in Italy 
 Of half your substance. 
 
 Rom. I'll give the King of Spain 
 Ten thousand ducats yearly, and discharge 
 My yearly custom. The Hollanders scarce trade 
 More generally than I : my factors' wives 
 Wear chaperons of velvet ; and my scriveners, 
 Merely through my employment, grow so rich 
 They build their palaces and belvederes 
 With musical water-works. Never in my life 
 Had I a loss at sea : they call me on the Exchange 
 The Fortunate Young Man, and make great suit 
 To venture with me. Shall I tell you, sir. 
 Of a strange confidence in my way of trading ? 
 I reckon it as certain as the gain 
 In erecting a lottery. 
 
 Pros. I pray, sir, what do you think 
 Of Signior Baptista's estate ] 
 
 Rom. A mere beggar : 
 He's worth some fifty thousand ducats. 
 
 Pros, Is not that well ? 
 
 Rum. How, well! for a man to be melted to 
 snow-water 
 With toiling in the world from three-and-twenty 
 Till three-score, for poor fifty thousand ducats ! 
 
 Pros. To your estate 'tis little, I confess : 
 You have the spring-tide of gold. 
 
 Rom. Faith, and for silver, 
 
 * Scene /.] Naples. A room in the house of Leonora. 
 (I had originally marked this scene "in the house of 
 Romelio ": but compare act ii. sc. 3, where Leonora says, 
 "Why do they ring 
 Before mp gate thus ? ") 
 
 Should I not send it packing to the East Indies, 
 We should have a glut on't. 
 
 Enter Servant. 
 
 Serv. Here's the great lord Contariuo. 
 
 Pros. 0, I know 
 His business ; he's a suitor to your sister. 
 
 Rom. Yes, sir : but to you. 
 As my most trusted friend, I utter it, — 
 I will break the alliance. 
 ' Pros. You are ill advis'd, then : 
 There lives not a completer gentleman 
 In Italy, nor of a more ancient house. 
 
 Rom. What tell you me of gentry ? 'tis naught 
 else 
 Bat a superstitious relic of time past : 
 And sift it to the true worth, it is nothing 
 But ancient riches ; and in him, you know, 
 They are pitifully in the wane. He makes his 
 
 colour 
 Of visiting us so often, to sell land, 
 And thinks, if he can gain my sister's love, 
 To recover the treble value. 
 
 Pi'os. Sure, he loves her 
 Entirely, and she deserves it. 
 
 Rom. Faith, though she were 
 Crook'd-shoulder'd, having such a poi'tion. 
 She would have noble suitors : but truth is, 
 I would wish my noble venturer take heed ; 
 It may be, whiles he hopes to catch a gilt-head, 
 He may draw up a gudgeon. 
 
 Enter Contabino. 
 Pros. He's come. Sir, I will leave you. 
 
 [Exeunt Prospero and Servant. 
 Con. I sent you the evidence of the piece of 
 land 
 
108 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 A»T I. 
 
 I motion'd to you for tho sole. 
 
 Rom. Yes. 
 
 CoTL Has your counsel perus'd it ? 
 Jiom. Not yet, luy lord. Do you intend to 
 travel ? 
 
 Con. No. 
 
 Jtom. 0, then you lose 
 That which makes man most absolute. 
 
 fun. Yet I have heard 
 Of divers that, in passing of tho Al[t8, 
 Have but exciiang'd their virtues at dear rate 
 For other vices. 
 
 Rom. O, my lord, lie nut idle : 
 The cliiefcst action for a man of great spirit 
 Is, never to be out of action.* We should think 
 Tho soul was never put into the body, 
 Which hiw so many rare and curious pieces 
 Qf matlieuiatic:il motion, to stand still. 
 Virtue is ever sowing of her seeds ; 
 In the trenches for the soldier; in the wakeful 
 
 study 
 For the scholar ; in the furrows of the sea 
 For men of our profession ; of all wliicli 
 Arise and spring up honour. Come, I know 
 You have some noble great design in hand. 
 That you levy so much money. 
 
 Con. Sir, I'll tell you : 
 The greatest part of it I mean to employ 
 In payment of my debts, and tlie reuiaiudcr 
 la like to bring mo into greater bonds. 
 As I aim it. 
 
 Rom. How, sir 7 
 
 t'un. I intend it 
 For tho charge of my wedding. 
 
 Riim. Are you to bo married, my lord ] 
 
 Con. Yo«, sir; and I must now entreat your 
 pardon, 
 Thiit I have coucoai'd from you a buHincss 
 Wh«n-iu you had at first been cidl'd to counsel, 
 Hut tiiut I thought it a less fault in friendship, 
 ToengagomyHolfthuxfttr without your knowledge, 
 Thau to do it against yrjur will : another reason 
 WaM, that I woulil not publish to tho worUI, 
 Nor have it whiK]H.'r'd scarce, what wealthy voyage 
 I wont about, till I had got tho mino 
 lu mino own |>oaiioMiiion. 
 
 Rom. You aro dark to me yet. 
 
 • J%« eAU/ttI aelUm /< r a man qf grtat tpirlt 
 
 I. «,..r I,. I., ..,,» ^^ nrtioNl M- ' " - 
 ' '», Ao., |. 
 
 ••■ -• 1. "Tlu 
 
 <>^ Ii»w <mr iiM 
 loot tho ro|H<tl 
 
 Cun. I'll now remove the cloud. Sir, your 
 
 sister and I 
 Are vow'd each other's, and there only wants 
 Her worthy mother's and your fair consents 
 To style it marriage : this is a way, 
 Not only to make a friendship, but confirm it 
 For our posterities. How do you look upon't? 
 
 Rom. Believe me, sir, as on the principal column 
 To advance our house : why, you bring honour 
 
 with you, 
 ^\^lich is the soul of wealth. I shall be proud 
 To live to see my little nephews ride 
 O'the upper hand of their uncles; and the 
 
 daughters 
 De rank'd by heralds at solemnities 
 Before the mother; all this deriv'd 
 From your nobility. Do not blame me, sir, 
 If I be taken with't exceedingly ; 
 For this same honour, with us citizens, 
 Is a thing we are mainly fond of, especially 
 When it comes without money, which is very 
 
 seldom. 
 But as you do perceive my present temper. 
 Be sure I am yours, — [aj>tJc]fir'd with scorn and 
 
 laugliter 
 At your over-confident purpose, — and, no doubt, 
 Jly mother will be of your mind. 
 
 Con. 'Tis my hope, sir. [Exit Romelio. 
 
 I do observe how this I^omelio 
 Has very worthy parts, were they not blasted 
 By insolent vain glory. There rests now 
 The mother's approbation to the match ; 
 Who is a woman of that state and bearing. 
 Though she be city-born, both in her language, 
 Her garments, and her table, she excels 
 Our ladies of tho court: she goes not gaudy, 
 Yet have I seen hor wear ono diamond 
 Would have bought twenty gay ones out of their 
 
 clothes, 
 And some of them, without tho greater grace. 
 Out of their honejrties. She comes: I will tiy 
 I low she stnnils nn'octed to nu>, without relating 
 My contract with her daughter. 
 
 Riiltr I.KONORA. 
 
 I^on. Sir, you are nobly welcome, and presume 
 You are in a place that's wholly tledicatod 
 To your i-orvice. 
 
 Con. I am over bound ti) yon 
 For many fpociul favoujx 
 
 Leon. Sir, your fame renders you 
 Most worthy of it. 
 
 Con, It could never have got 
 
SCEN'E I. 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 109 
 
 A sweeter air to fly in than your breath.* 
 
 Leon. You have been strange a long time ; you 
 are weary 
 Of our unseasonable time of feeding : 
 Indeed, the Exchange-bell makes us dine so late, 
 I think the ladies of the court from us 
 Learn to lie so long a-bed. 
 
 Con. They have a kind of Exchange among them 
 too : 
 Marry, unless it be to hear of news, I take it, 
 Their's is, like the New Burse,+ thinly furnish'd 
 With tires and new fashions. I have a suit to you. 
 
 Leon. I would not have you value it the less. 
 If I say, 'tis granted already. 
 
 Con. You are all bounty : 
 'Tis to bestow your picture on me. 
 
 Leon. 0, sir. 
 Shadows are coveted in summer, and with me 
 'Tis fall o'the leaf. 
 
 Con. You enjoy the best of time : 
 This latter spring of yours shows in my eye 
 More fruitful, and more temperate withal, 
 Than that whose date is only limited 
 By the music of the cuckoo. 
 
 Leon. Indeed, sir, I dare tell you, 
 My looking-glass is a true one, and as yet 
 It does not terrify me. Must you have my picture ''. 
 
 Con. So please you, lady ; and I shall preserve it 
 As a most choice object. 
 
 Leon. You will enjoin me to a strange punish- 
 ment. 
 With what a compell'd face a woman sits 
 While she is drawing ! I have noted divers, 
 Either to feign smiles, or suck in the lips 
 To have a little mouth ; ruffle the cheeks 
 To have the dimple seen; and so disorder 
 The face with affectation, at next sitting 
 It has not been the same : I have known others 
 Have lost the entire fashion of their face 
 In half an hour's sitting. 
 
 Con. How? 
 
 * It could never have got 
 A swetter air to fly in than your breath} So again our 
 author in his Monumental Column, &c. ; 
 " Never found prayers, siuce they convers'd with death. 
 
 A sweeter air to fly in than his breath." 
 And so too Massiuger ; 
 
 " My own praises fTyiTi^ 
 In such pure air as your S7cctl breath, fair lady. 
 Cannot but please me." 
 
 The Picture, act v. so. last. 
 t the New Burse'] i. e. the Xew Exchange in the Strand, 
 ■where were shops in which female finery and trinkets of 
 every description were sold. Our old dramatists do nol 
 scruple to attribute to a foreign country the peculiarities 
 of their own. 
 
 ' Leon. In hot weather 
 The painting on their face has been so mellow, 
 They have left the poor man harder work by half, 
 To mend the copy he wrought by. But, indeed, 
 If ever I would have mine drawn to the life, 
 I would have a painter steal it at such a time 
 I were devoutly kneeling at my prayers : 
 There is then a heavenly beauty iu't, the soul 
 j .Moves in the superficies. 
 
 Con. Excellent lady, 
 ' Now you teach beauty a preservative 
 I More than 'gainst fading colours, and your 
 j udgment 
 Is perfect in all things. 
 
 Leon. Indeed, sir, I am a widow, 
 And want the addition to make it so ; 
 For man's experience has still been held 
 Woman's best eyesight. I pray, sir, tell me : — 
 You are about to sell a piece of land 
 To my son, I hear. 
 Con. 'Tis truth. 
 
 Leon. Now I could rather wish 
 That noblemen would ever live i'the country. 
 Rather than make their visits up to the city 
 About such business. 0, sir, noble bouses 
 Have no such goodly prospects any way 
 As into their own land : the decay of that. 
 Next to their begging church-laud, is a ruin 
 Worth all men's pity. Sir, I have forty thousand 
 
 crowns 
 Sleep in my chest shall waken when you please, 
 And fly to your commands. Will you stay 
 supper ? 
 Con. I cannot, worthy lady. 
 Leon. I would not have you come hither, sir, 
 to sell, 
 But to settle your estate. I hope you understand 
 Wherefore I make this proflTer : so, I leave you. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Con. [On] what a treasury have I perch'd ! " I 
 
 hope 
 
 You understand wherefore I make this proffer !" 
 
 She has got some intelligence how I intend to 
 
 marry 
 Her daughter, and ingenuously* perceiv'd 
 That by her picture," which I begg'd of her, 
 I meant the fair Jolenta. Here's a letter 
 Which gives express charge not to visit her 
 Till midnight. [Reads. 
 
 " Fail not to come, fur 'iis a business that concerns 
 both our honours. 
 
 Yours, in datujer to be lost, Jolenta" 
 
 * in^/enuously] See note fi P- 26. 
 
110 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 ACT L 
 
 'Tis a strange injunction : what should be the 
 
 busmevel 
 She is not chang'il, I hope : I'll thither straight ; 
 'For women's re8o)ution« in such deeds, 
 Like bees, light oft on llowera, and oft on weeds. 
 
 [£xU. 
 
 jVLi 
 
 SCENi: II.' 
 Enter EncoLE, Rosieuo, and Jolknta. 
 f Rum. 0, sister, come, the tailor must to work, 
 To make your weddiugclotlies. 
 
 Jol. The tomb-ijiaker, 
 \To take uiea-sure of my coffin. 
 
 Rom. Touib-maker ! 
 L<iok you, the King of Spain greets you. 
 
 Jol. What tlocs this mean ? 
 Do you servo process on me ? 
 
 Rom. Process ! come, 
 You would be witty now. 
 
 JoL Why, what's this, I pray ? 
 Rom. Infinite grace to you : it is a letter 
 From his catholic nnijusty for the commends 
 Of this gentleman for your husbancL 
 
 J<A. In good Hcason ; 
 I liope he will not liavo my allegiance stretch'd 
 To the undoing of myself. 
 
 Rum. Undo yourself! ho docs proclaim him 
 
 here — 
 JoL Not for a traitor, does he { 
 Rom. You are not mtul ; — 
 For ooo of the noblest gentlemen. 
 
 JoL Yet kings many times 
 Know merely but men's out-sjdcH. Wiw this 
 
 commendation 
 Voluntary, think you ? 
 
 RiijK. Voluntiry ! what mean you by that ? 
 Jol. Why, I do not think but lie bcgu'd it of 
 the king, 
 Aud it may f<jrtune to bo out ofn way : 
 Boinn better Muit, that would have stood his lord- 
 
 ■hi]> 
 la (kr more kU-vA. Luttoi-s of o.unmendations ! 
 Why, 'tis r«i>orU-d that tliey are grown stulo 
 When places full i'the University. 
 I pmy you, return his \vmm ; for to n widow 
 That lougs to lie a courtier thin pnjjor 
 May do kniKtit'a servlco. 
 
 Kixo. MinUkko «i.t, excoUoiit miittress : those 
 
 K«|»r' ty of Spain has given nu> 
 
 IWilh ad'JiLun uf honour, m you amy peiv«ivo 
 
 * <■■«*« II. \ Auuihar romn lu Uio mux 
 
 t 
 
 By my habit, and a place here to command 
 O'er thirty galleys : this your brother shows. 
 As wibhiug that you would be partner 
 In my good fortune. 
 
 Rom. I pray, come hither : 
 Have I any interest in you 1 
 
 JoL You are my brother. 
 
 Rom. I would have you, then, use me with that 
 respect 
 You may still keep me so, and to be sway'd 
 In this main business of life, which wants 
 Greatest consideration, your marriage, 
 By my direction : here's a gentleman 
 
 JoL Sir, I have often told you, 
 I am so little my own to dispose that way, 
 That I can never be his. 
 
 Rom. Come, too much light 
 Makes you moon-ey'd : are you in love with 
 
 title? 
 I will have a henild, whose continual practice 
 Is all in pedigree, come a wooing to you, 
 Or au antiquary in old buskins. 
 
 Erco. Sir, you have done me 
 The main est wrong that e'er was offer'd to 
 A gentleman of my breeding. 
 
 Rom. Why, sir ? 
 
 Erco. You have led me 
 With a vain confidence that I should marry 
 Your sister ; have proclaim'd it to my friends : 
 Employ'd the greatest lawyei-a of our state 
 To settle her a jointure ; aud the issue 
 Is, that I must become ridiculous 
 Both to my friends and enemies : I will leave you. 
 Till I call to you for a strict account 
 Of your unmanly dealing. 
 
 Rom. Stay, my lord. — 
 Do you long to have my throat cut I — Good my 
 
 lord, 
 Stt\y but a little, till I have reinov'd 
 i'liis court-mist from her eyes, till I wake l»er 
 From this dulUleup, wherein .sliell dream herself 
 To a deformed beggiu*. — You would marry 
 The great lord Contariuo — 
 
 Kiittr I.KoNoiu. 
 
 /^i/ii. Contarino 
 Wero you talking of] he lost hibt night at dice 
 Five tho»>Hund ducats ; and when that was gone. 
 Set at oiu' throw a lurdcliip that twice trebled 
 Tilt) former loss. 
 
 A'om. And that Hew aft<r. 
 
 /.(•on. And most carefully 
 'ioriril the gentleman in his e«roclio 
 
SCE>fE II. 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 HI 
 
 To a lawyer's chamber, there most legally 
 To put him ia possession : was this wisdom ] 
 
 Rom. 0, yes, their credit in. the way of gamLug 
 Is the main thing they stand on ; that must be paid, 
 Though the brewer bawl for's money : and this 
 
 lord 
 Does she prefer, i'the way of marriage, 
 Before our choice here, noble Ercole. 
 
 Leon. You'll be advis'd, I hope. Know for 
 your sakes 
 I married, that I might have children ; 
 And for your sakes, if you'll be rul'd by me, 
 I will never^narry again. Here's a gentleman 
 Is noble, rich, well featur'd, but 'bove all, 
 He loves you entirely : his intents are aim'd 
 For an expedition 'gainst the Turk, 
 Which makes the contract cannot be delay'd. 
 
 Jol. Contract ! you must do this without my 
 , knowledge ! 
 
 Give me some potion to make me mad. 
 And happily not knowing what I speak, 
 [l may then consent to't. 
 
 Rom. Come, you are mad already ; 
 And I shall never hear you speak good sense 
 Till you name him for husband. 
 
 Erco. Lady, I will do 
 A manly office for you ; I will leave you 
 To the freedom of your own soul : may it move 
 
 whither 
 Heaven and you please ! 
 
 Jol. Now you express yourself 
 Most nobly. 
 
 Rom. Stay, sir ; what do you mean to do ? 
 Leon. Hear me : {kneels] if thou dost marry 
 Contarino, 
 All the misfortune that did ever dweU 
 In a parent's curse light on thee ! 
 
 Erco. 0, rise, lady : certainly heaven never 
 Intended kneeling to this fearful purpose. 
 
 Jol. Your imprecation has undone me for ever. 
 Erco. Give me your hand. 
 Jol. No, sir. 
 Rom. Give't me, then. 
 0, what rare workmanship have I seen this 
 To finish with your needle ! what excellent music 
 Have these struck upon the viol ! Now I'll teach 
 A piece of art. 
 
 Jol. Rather, a damnable cunning. 
 To have me go about to give" C away 
 Without consent of my soul. 
 
 Rom. Kiss her, my lord : 
 If crying had been regarded, maidenheads 
 Had ne'er been lost ; at least some appearance 
 Of crying, as an April shower i'the sunshine. 
 
 Leon. She is yours. 
 
 Rom. Nay, continue your station, and deal you 
 In dumb show : kiss this doggedne.ss out of her. 
 
 Leon. To be contracted in tears is but fashion- 
 able. 
 
 Rom. Yet suppose that they were hearty, — 
 
 Leon. Virgins must seem unwilling. 
 
 Rom. 0, what else ? 
 And you remember, we observe the like 
 In greater ceremonies than these contracts ; 
 At the consecration of prelates they use ever 
 Twice to say nay, and take it. 
 
 Jol. brother ! 
 
 Rom. Keep your possession, you have the door 
 
 by the ring ; 
 hat's livery and seisin in England : * but, my lord. 
 Kiss that tear from her lip ; you'll find the rose 
 The sweeter for the dew. 
 
 Jol. Bitter as gall. 
 
 Rom. Ay, ay, all you women. 
 Although you be of never so low stature. 
 Have gall in you most abundant ; it exceeds 
 Your brains by two ounces. I was saying some- 
 what : — 
 0, do but observe i'the city, and you'll find 
 The thriftiest bargains that were ever made, 
 What a deal of wrangling ere they could be 
 
 brought 
 To an upshot ! 
 
 Leon. Great persons do not ever come together — 
 f Rom. With revelling faces ; nor is it necessary. 
 They should : the strangeness and unwillingness 
 Wears the greater state, and gives occasion that 
 The people may buzz and talk oft, though the 
 
 bells 
 Be tongue -tied_ at the wedding. 
 "" Leon. And truly I have heard say. 
 To be a little strange to one another 
 Will keep your longing fresh. 
 
 Rom. Ay, and make you beget 
 More children when you're married: some doctors 
 Are of that opinion. You see, my lord, we are 
 
 merry 
 At the contract : your sport is to come hereafter. 
 
 Erco. I will leave you, excellent lady, and 
 withal 
 Leave a heart with you so entirely yours. 
 That, I protest, had I the least of hope 
 
 ♦ you have the door by the ring ; 
 
 Tliat's livery a'od seisin in EnglaruC] The allusion here 
 is to a ceremony used in the common law, on conveyance 
 of lands, houses, <S:c. when the ring or hatch of the door 
 is delivered to the feoflfee : livery and seinn are delivery 
 and possession. 
 
112 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 To enjoy you, though I wcro to wait the time 
 That scholars do in taking their degree 
 In the noble arts, 'twere nothing : howsoc'er, 
 He parts from you that will depart from life 
 To do you any service ; and so, humbly 
 I take my leave. 
 
 M. Sir, I will pray for you. [ExU Ebcole. 
 
 Rom. Why, tliat'a well ; 'twill make your 
 prayer complete, 
 To pray for your husband. 
 
 JoL Husband ! 
 
 Leon. This is 
 The happiest hour that I ever arriv'd at. {Exit. 
 
 Rom. Husband ! ay, husband : come, you 
 peevish thing. 
 Smile me a thank for the pains I have ta'cn. 
 
 Jol. I hate myself for being thus enfurc'd : 
 You n;ay soon judge, then, what I think of you 
 Which are the cause of it. 
 
 [. 
 
 Enttr WiNlKRED, patting over. 
 Rom. You, lady of the laundry, come hither. 
 Win. Sir] 
 
 Rovi. Look,* as you love your life, you have an 
 eye 
 Upon your inistress : I do henceforth bar her 
 All vihitaiits. I do hear there are bawds abroad 
 Tliat bring cut-works + and mantoons.J and 
 
 convey letters 
 To such young gentlewomen ; and there arc others 
 That deal in corn-cutting and fortune-telling : 
 Ixst none of these come at her, on your life ; 
 Nor Deuce ace, the wafer-woman, that prigs abroad 
 Witli II ' ' IIS and nialakatoon8;§ nor 
 
 • Jju- 1 iiur life, you liact an f)/t 
 
 I'lMiH yuur tiiulrct*, &C.J Horo Wobstcr rocolloctvd 
 Uen Jouaou ; 
 
 " IJo you mire, now, 
 You have all your oycH about you ; and let in 
 No l:i. I woman, nor liait<l, that brinyt French mniikB 
 ' irori-f; aoo you ? iior M cronet tcitli usijert, 
 ■I Ittteri: uor no youllm, dii^iis'd 
 
 . » itii crcnni iiud m(irrov-/>tuf(Nn{7«. 
 
 mini III II i)Uil<lii,g, 
 „'iR-o: thvy uro ulirvwd cyphors." 
 TA« />m/ U an au, act II. w. I. 
 
 1 " inantoHf, a gr«at robo or 
 ' od. lull. 
 
 I ' lukntoon, inollcottnn, male- 
 
 louo, or n>all((i>t<i<ju, (for ko varlounly do 
 
 .11 tt.r W.rl,) ;v:,B It wilt of Uto |««ch. 
 
 'iiiK dlffui-ont kind* of 
 I'mfli; tlio Mrluci4ont ; 
 
 10 I. r aS.olli(K*>..tcliTJ 
 
 MiiMl like a I'oaoli, or 
 
 .NfU ..ii ■ |_«ii, (|,, lu) entitled A Ikterip 
 
 I Voynfft to Mfrmtulat, in lAr SMip Marp 
 
 <■> ■• ti |»rdy^ lUTl. 4lu. 
 
 The Scotchwoman with the cittern, do you mark; 
 Nor a dancer by any means, though he ride on's 
 
 foot-cloth ; * 
 Nor a hackney-coachman, if he can speak French. 
 
 Win. Why, sir, — 
 
 Rom. By no means ; no more words : — 
 Nor the woman with marrow-bone-puddings : I 
 
 have heard 
 Strange juggling tricks have been convey'd to a 
 
 woman 
 In a pudding: you are apprehensive! 
 
 Win. good sir, I have travell'd. 
 
 Rom. When you had a bastard, you travell'd t 
 indeed : 
 But, my precious chaperoness, 
 I trust thee the better for that ; for I have heard, 
 There is no warier keeper of a park, 
 To prevent stalkers or your night-walkei-s, 
 Tiian such a man as in his youth has been 
 A most notorious deer-stcaler. 
 
 Win. Very well, sir. 
 You may use me at your pleasure. 
 
 Rom. By no means, Winifred ; that were the way 
 To make thee travel again. Come, be not angry, 
 I do but jest ; thou know'st, wit and a woman 
 Are two very frail things ; and so, I leave you. 
 
 [KrU. 
 
 Win. I could weep with you ; but 'tis no matter, 
 I can do that at any time ; I have now 
 A greater mind to rail a little : plague of these 
 Unsanctified matches! they make us loathe 
 The most natural desire our grandam Eve ever 
 
 left us. 
 Force one to marry against their will I why, 'tis 
 A more ungodly work than enclosing the eoumions. 
 
 Jol. rrithee, peace : 
 This is indeed an argument so common, 
 I cannot think of matter new enough 
 To express it bad enough. 
 
 Wilt. Here's one, I hope, 
 Will put you out oft. 
 
 Ullt'T CONTARISO. 
 
 Con. How now, sweet mistress! 
 You have made sorrow look lovely of late ; 
 You have wept. 
 
 Win. She has done nothing else these three 
 days : had you stood behiiul the arras, to have 
 hoard hi-r uliod so much oalt water as I liave 
 done, yo\i woidil have thought she had been 
 tunied fo\u)t<tin. 
 
 • fuoi rtntli ] hpo noto ■, p. 7. 
 
 t travrll'il] llorr, lu tlio (Irnt edition of thlit oollcctlon, 
 I priiitoti " IraixiU'U": but tlia|>\in Is |<lalnouough with 
 tho old K]*cUln|{. 
 
THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 113 
 
 Con. I would fain know the cause can be 
 worthy 
 This thy soitow. 
 Jol. \to Win.] Reach me the caskanet.* — I am 
 studying, sir. 
 To take an inventory of all that's mine. 
 Con. What to do with it, lady ] 
 Jol. To make you a deed of gift. * 
 Con. That's done already ; you are all mine. 
 Win. Yes, but the devil would fain put in for's 
 share, 
 In likeness of a separation. 
 (^ Jol. 0, sir, I am bewitch'd. o ^ "'' 
 
 ' Con. Ha! " 
 
 Jol. Most certain ; I am forespoken t 
 To be married to another : can you ever think 
 That I shall ever thrive in't? am I not, then, 
 
 bewitch'd ] 
 All comfort I can teach myself is this, — 
 .There is a time left for me to die nobly, 
 yVhen I cannot live so. 
 
 Con. Give me, in a woi'd, to whom, or by whose 
 means, 
 Are you thus torn from me 1 
 
 Jol. By Lord Ercole, my mother, and my J 
 
 brother. 
 Con. I'll make his bravery § fitter for a 
 grave 
 Than for a wedding. 
 
 Jol. So you will beget 
 A far more dangerous and strange disease 
 Out of the cure : you must love him again 
 For my sake ; for the noble Ercole 
 Had such a true compassion of my sorrow, — 
 Hark in your ear, I'll show you his i-ight 
 
 worthy 
 Demeanour to me. 
 
 Win. you pretty ones ! 
 I have seen this lord many a time and oft 
 Set her in's lap, and talk to her of love 
 So feelingly, I do protest it has made me 
 Kun out of mvself to think on't. 
 
 * caskanet] A word not found in dictionaries. I meet 
 with it in a formidable list of articles necessary for a 
 lady's toilette in Xi/i^fun / "'such stirre witli Stickes and 
 Combes, Cascanets, Dressings, .Purles, Falles, Squares, 
 Buskes, Bodies, Scarffes, Neck-laces, Caroanets," &c. 
 Sig. I. 2, ed. 160r. 
 
 t foi-efpokenl Used here with a quibble,— one of its 
 meanings being "bewitched " 
 
 t »»/] The o'.d copy "hi/ " 
 
 § braver!/] i. e. fiuerj'. 
 
 sweet-breath'd monkeys,* how they grow 
 
 together ! 
 Well, 'tis my opinion, 
 He was no woman's friend that did invent 
 A punishment for kissing. 
 
 Con. If he bear himself so nobly, 
 The manliest office I can do for him 
 Is to afford him my pity, since he's like 
 To fail of so dear a purchase : for your mother, 
 Your goodness quits her ill : for your brother, 
 He that vows friendship to a man, and proves 
 A traitor, deserves rather to be haug'd 
 Thanhe that counterfeits money; yet for your sake 
 
 1 must sign his pardon too. Why do you tremble] 
 Be safe, you are now free from him. 
 
 Jul. 0, but, sir. 
 The intermission from a fit of an ague 
 Is grievous ; for, indeed, it doth prepare us 
 To entertain torment next morning. 
 
 Con. Why, he's gone to sea. 
 
 Jol. But he may return too soon. 
 
 Con. To avoid which, we will instantly be 
 married. 
 
 Wi7i. To avoid which, get you instantly to bed 
 together ; 
 Do ; and I think no civil lawyer for his fee 
 Can give you better counsel. 
 
 Jol. Fie upon thee ! prithee, leave us. 
 
 Con. Be of comfort, sweet mistress. 
 
 Jol. On one condition, we may have no cpiarrel 
 About this. 
 
 Con. Upon my life, none. 
 
 Jol. None, upon your honour? 
 
 Con. With whom 1 with Ercole ? f 
 You have delivered him guiltless. 
 With your brother 1 he's part of yourself. 
 With your complimental rnother * 
 I use not fight with women. 
 CT'o-morrow we'll be married : 
 Let those that would oppose this union 
 Grow ne'er so subtle, and entangle themselves 
 Intheir own^ work Jike spiders; while we two 
 Haste to our noble wishes, and presume. 
 The hindrance of it will breed^iore delight. 
 A s black c op artiments show X Koid more bright . 
 "^ [Exeunt. 
 
 * m(Wite»/s] The old copy ''monkey." 
 
 t With whom? with Ercole? &Q..] I let the first six Inies 
 of this speech stand as they do in the old copy:— they 
 seem to defy any tolerable metrical arrangement. 
 
 I coparliriunts show] The old copy " copartaments 
 sheices." 
 
 .r' 
 
114 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASK 
 
 ACT n. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 SCENE I.* 
 
 Enter Crispiaso and SAsrrosELLA. 
 CrU. Am I well habited ? 
 
 San. Exceeding well; any man would take you 
 for a merchant. But, pray, sir, resolve me, what 
 should be the reason that you, being one of the 
 most eminent civil lawyers in Spain, and bat 
 newly arrived from the Ea.st Indies, should take 
 thi« habit of a merchant upon you ? 
 
 CrU. Why, my son lives here in Naples, and in's 
 riot doth far exceed the exhibition 1 1 allowed him. 
 .San. So, then, and in this disguise you mean 
 to trace him 1 
 
 Cru. Partly for that ; but there is other business 
 Of greater consequence. 
 
 San. Faith, for his expense, 'tis nothing to your 
 CBtatc: what, to Don Crispiano, the famous corre- 
 gidor of Seville, who by his mere practice of the 
 law, in less time than half a jubilee, hath gotten 
 thirty thounand ducati a-year! 
 
 CrU. Well. I will give him line. 
 Lot him run on in's courso of spending. 
 San, Freely ? 
 CrU. Freely : 
 For I protest, if that I could conceive 
 My son would take more pleasure or content, 
 By any courHO of riot, in the expense, 
 Tlian I took joy, nay, soul's felicity. 
 In the getting of it, should all the wealth I have 
 Wojite to as small an atomy as flies 
 I'the nun. I do protent on that condition 
 It hIioiiM not move me. 
 
 San. H-iw'« thii» ! Cannot ho take more pleasure 
 In »iKjnding it riotouttly than you have done by 
 Bcrspiiig it togotlierf O, ten thoumiiul times mora ! 
 and I make no ({uostion, five hundred young 
 KmllantN will bo of my opinion. 
 Why, all the tiuio of your collootionship 
 Hm lx<en a ]>«qiotunl calendar : l>«gin fimt 
 WiUi your molanchuly ntudy of the law 
 Usfore you cauio^ to finger the rudducka; after 
 
 that, 
 Tlio tiring importunity of clients, 
 '!' •••riy, and ait up to In'' 
 
 You made yourself half ready in a dream,* 
 And never pray'd but in your sleep. Can I think 
 That you liave half your lungs left with crying out 
 For judgments and days of trial ( Remember, sir. 
 How often have I borne you on my shoulder. 
 Among a shoal or swarm of reeking night-caps.t 
 When that your worship has bepiss'd yourself, 
 Either with vehemency of argument. 
 Or being out from the matter. I am merry. 
 CrU. Be so. 
 
 San. You could eat like a gentleman, at leisure ; 
 Butswallow['d]itUke flap-dragons,^ as if you had 
 
 liv'd 
 With chewing the cud after. 
 
 CrU. No pleasure in the world was comparable 
 
 to't. 
 San. Possible? 
 
 CrU. He shall never taste the like. 
 Unless he study law. 
 
 San. What, not in wenching, sir ? 
 'Tis a court-game, believe it, as familiar 
 As gleek § or any other. 
 
 Cris. Wenching ! 0, fie ! the disease follows it: 
 Beside, can the fingering taffetas or lawns, 
 Or a painted hand or a breast, be like the pleasure 
 In taking clients' fees, and piling them 
 In several goodly rows before my desk ? 
 And according to the bigness of each heap, 
 Which I took by a leer (for lawyers do not tell 
 
 them), 
 I vail'd II my cap, and withal gave great hope 
 The cause should go on their sides. 
 
 San. What think you, then, 
 Of a good cry of hounds? it has been knowJ 
 Dogs have hunted lordships to a fault. 
 
 'tfo, |K)rlui|i«. 
 
 I • 
 
 • r :ir»f[f half TNuty <n a drtam] To mnlr 
 
 ,„„- t lio old oxproi«siou r»>r drestlng ono«.«olf. 
 
 t , . -.1- note J, i>. CO. 
 
 J napiir,iuo»>\ UttiKins. plmnn, f<i»i'««' "«''» ' *« »"'»'''^' 
 to iWt In a iUhIi of ui>lont spirit*, fnun which, wlion r..t 
 oil fti-c, thoy woro to \o KiiutchcMl by Iho mouth im.i 
 •wnllowotl. Tlio umoroUH yoiillir. .1 "Lion tlmo .lolltfhtca 
 In drlnklnu off Hup ilniKoiui to tho health of their niin- 
 trowiit. ThU niwty niwrt. iitlll oonun.-n In Hollninl. I 
 hnvoBoi-n pnuiiiwU in our own country by l>oy» duriuK' 
 Cht'ii*tiniu« huliiliiyH. 
 
 I (/l.ri I A fuHhIonftl.lo gnmo (it cinU In o>ir nnthor'n 
 tlino. Full liiHlnictlonii how to piny iit " thU nobli- iin.l 
 clell«litnil C.iiiiio or IU>cr\>atlon " may bo found In The 
 Cnmjitnit li'iimnirr, p. 07, ot MO)}, od. ITO'J. 
 
 II r«iii'</) I. u. loworod. 
 
THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 115 
 
 Cris. Cry of curs ! 
 The noise of clients at my chamber-door 
 Was sweeter music far, in my conceit, 
 Than all the hunting in Europe. 
 
 San. Pray, stay, sir : 
 Say he should spend it in good house-keeping. 
 
 Oris. Ay, marry, sir, to have him keep a good 
 house, 
 And not sell't away, I'd find no fault with that : 
 But his kitchen I'd have no bigger than a saw-pit; 
 For the smallness of a kitchen, without question, 
 Makes many noblemen in France and Spain 
 Build the rest of the house the bigger. 
 
 San. Yes, mock-beggars. 
 
 Cris. Some sevenscore chimneys, 
 But half of them have no tunnels. 
 
 San. A pox upon them, kickshaws, that beget 
 Such monsters without fundaments ! 
 / Cris. Come, come, leave citing other vanities ; 
 i For neither wine, nor lust, nor riotous feasts. 
 Rich clothes, nor all the pleasure that the devil 
 Has ever practis'd with to raise a man 
 To a devil's likeness, e'er brought man that 
 
 pleasure 
 I took in getting my wealth : so I conclude, 
 If he can out-vie me, let it fly to the devil. — 
 lYon's my son : what company keejos he ] 
 
 Enter Romelio, Julio, Aeiosto, and Baptista. 
 
 San. The gentleman he talks with is Romelio, 
 The merchant. 
 
 Cris. I never saw him till now : 
 'A has a brave sprightly look. I knew his father. 
 And sojourn'd in his house two years together 
 Before this young man's birth. I have news to 
 
 tell him 
 Of certain losses happen'd him at sea, 
 That will not please him. 
 
 San. What's* that dapper fellow 
 In the long stocking? I do think 'twas he 
 Came to your lodging this morning. 
 
 Oris. 'Tis the same : 
 There he stands bat a little piece of flesli, 
 But he is the very miracle of a lawyer; 
 One that persuades men to peace, and compounds 
 
 quarrels 
 Among his neighbours, without going to law. 
 
 San. And is he a lawyer? 
 
 Cris. Yes, and will give counsel ; , 
 
 lu honest causes gi-atis; never in his life 
 Took fee but he came and spake for't ; is a man 
 Of extreme practice ; and yet all his longing 
 Is to become a judge. 
 
 * What's] The old copy " What.' 
 
 San. Indeed, that's a rare longing with men of 
 his profession. I think he'll prove the mii-acle of 
 a lawj^er indeed. 
 
 Rom. Here's the man brought word your father 
 died i'the Indies. 
 
 Jul. He died in perfect memory, I hope, 
 And made me his heir. 
 
 Cris. Yes, sir. 
 
 Jul. He's gone the right way, then, without 
 question. Friend, in time of mourning we must 
 not use any action that is but accessaiy to the 
 making men merry : I do ' therefore give you 
 nothing for your good tidings. 
 
 Cris. Nor do I look for it, sir. 
 
 Jul. Honest fellow, give me thy hand : I do 
 not think but thou hast carried new-year's-gifts 
 to the court in thy days, and learned'st there to 
 be so free of thy pains-takiug. 
 
 Rom. Here's an old gentleman says he was 
 chamber-fellow to your father, when they studied 
 the law together at Barcelona. 
 
 Jul. Do you know him ? 
 
 Rom. Not I ; he's newly come to Naples. ■ 
 
 Jul. And what's his business ? 
 
 Rom. 'A says he's come to read you good counsel. 
 
 Cris. [aside to Ari.] To him, rate him soundly. 
 
 .Till. And what's your counsel 1 
 
 Ari. Why, I would have you leave 
 Your whoring. 
 
 Jul. He comes hotly upon me at first. — 
 Whoring ! 
 
 Ari. youug quat,* incontinence is plagu'd 
 In all the creatures of the world ! 
 
 Jul. When did you ever hear that a cock- 
 sparrow 
 Had the French pox ? 
 
 Ari. When did you ever know any of them fat 
 but in the nest 1 ask all your cautharide-mougers 
 that question : remember yourself, sir, 
 
 Jul. A very fine naturalist ! a physician, I take 
 you, by your round slop,t for 'tis just of the 
 bigness, and no more, of the case for a urinal : 
 'tis concluded you are a physician. What do 
 yon mean, sir? you'll take cold. 
 
 Ari. 'Tis concluded you are a fool, a precious 
 one : you are a mere stick of sugar-candy ;^^ 
 man may'look quite thorough you. 
 
 Jul. You are a very bold gamester. 
 
 * young tjuatj Quat means origiually a pimple- 
 Compare Shakespeare ; 
 
 " I have rubb'd this young quat almost to the sense." 
 
 Othello, Act V. Sc. I. 
 t slop] i. e. breeches (properly, large wide ones). 
 i you are a mere stick of sugar-candy, &c.] See note*, 
 
 P; 74. 
 
 I 2 
 
116 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 ALT II. 
 
 Ari. I can play at chess, and know bow to 
 haodlti a rook. 
 
 Jul. Pray, preserve your velvet from tlie dust. 
 
 Ari. Keep your hat upon the block, sir; 'twill 
 coritiuue fai-liion the loHgir. 
 
 Jul. I wiis never so abu&'J with the hat in the 
 hand 
 lu my Ufe. 
 
 Ai-i. I will put on. Wiiy, look you, 
 Those lands that were the client's are now become 
 The lawyer's; and those tenements that were 
 The country gentleman's are now grown 
 To be his tailor's. 
 
 Jul. Tailor's ! 
 
 Ari. Yes, tailors in France, they grow to great 
 abciminablc purchase,* and become great officers. 
 — IIow many ducats think you he has spent 
 within a twelvemonth, besides his father's allow- 
 ance? 
 
 Jul. Besides my father's allowance ! ^Vhy, 
 jrentleman, do you think an auditor begat me? 
 Would you have me make even at year's end 1 
 
 Jtom. A hundred ducats a month in breaking 
 Venice gla-sses. 
 
 Ari. He learnt that of an English drunkard, 
 and a kuiglit too, as I take it — This comes of 
 your numerous wanlrobe. 
 
 Roia. Ay, and wearing cut-work, + a jiound a purl. 
 •^ Ari. Your dainty embroidered stockings, with 
 overblown roHes,* to hide your gouty ankleR. 
 
 Rom. And wearing more taffeta for a garter than 
 would nerve the galley dung-boat for streaiiiera. 
 
 Ari. Your hwitcliing up at the horae-race, with 
 the illustrisHinii. 
 
 Jiom. And studying a puzzling arithmetic at 
 the cock-pit. 
 
 Art. Shaking your elbow at the table board. § 
 
 Jlom. Ancl resorting to your whoro in liire<l 
 vol vol, Willi It Hpangled cojiper fringe at her 
 Notliurliiiidit. 
 
 Ari. Wlierciw, if you lia<l htiiyod ut Piidua, iind 
 f«xl upon cow trotters and frohii beef toHUpjJor, 
 
 JuL IIow I am baited ! 
 
 Ari. Nay, Im> not you so forward with him 
 imiihor, for 'tin thought you'll prove a maiu piu-t 
 of hi* un<luiug. 
 
 • '"' '.. :. p. ij, 
 
 I ""- ■ |. 41 
 
 I .l.lo«(I,>,i. 
 lur Ijurk I 
 
 .... .if n 
 
 Jvl. I think this fellow is a witch. 
 
 Bom. Who I, sir? 
 
 Ari. You have certain rich city chuffs, that 
 when they have no acres of their own, they will 
 go and plough up fools, and turn them into 
 excellent meadow; besides some enclosures for 
 the first cherries in the spring, and apricocks, to 
 pleasure a friend at court with. You have 
 pothecaries deal in selling commodities * to young 
 gallants, will put four or five coxcombs into a 
 sieve, and so drum with them upon their counter, 
 they'll scarce them through like Guinea pepper : 
 they cannot endure to find a man like a pair of 
 terriers, they would undo him in a trice. 
 
 Rom. May be there are such. 
 
 Ari. 0, teiTible exactors, fellows with six hands 
 and three heads ! 
 
 JuX. Ay, those are hell-hounds. 
 
 Ari. Take heed of them; they'll rent thee like 
 tenterhooks. Hark in your ear ; there is iutelli- 
 genci upon you : the report goes, there has been 
 gold conveyed beyond the sea in hollow anchors. 
 Farewell; you shall know me better; I will do 
 thee more good than thou art aware of. \E.iH. 
 
 Jul. He's a mad» fellow. 
 
 San. He would have made an excellent barber, 
 he does so curry it with his tongue. [ExU. 
 
 Oris. Sir, I wa3 directed to you. 
 
 Rom. From whence 1 
 
 Cris. From the East Indies. 
 
 Rom. You are very welcome. 
 
 Cris. Plosi.se you walk apart, 
 I shall acquaint you with particulara 
 Touching your trading i'the East Indies. 
 
 Rom. Willingly : pray, walk, sir. 
 
 [Ex'Uiit Caiai'lASo and Romklio. 
 
 Eatrr EucoLli. 
 Ere. O my right worthy friends, you have 
 stay'd me long : 
 One health, and then aboard ; for all the gtdloys 
 Are come about. 
 
 liiitcr CoNTAPaKo. 
 
 Con. Siguier Ercole, 
 Tlio wind has stood my frienil, sir, to prevent 
 Your putting to sea. 
 
 Ere. Pray, why, sir f 
 
 Con, Only love, sir. 
 That I might take my leave, sir, and witliul 
 I'Intruat from you a private rfcomnuMuls 
 To u frii'ud in Malta : it wouKl be deliver'd 
 To your bosom, fur I had no time to write. 
 
 * romiiKxitliwtJ Sou iu<to f, p. 37 
 
SCENE I, 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 117 
 
 Ere. Pray, leave us, gentlemen. 
 
 [Exiunt Julio and Baptista. 
 
 Wilt please you sit ? [They sit down. 
 
 Con. Sir, my love to you has proclaim'd you 
 one 
 Whose word was still led by a noble thought, 
 And that thought follow'd by as fair a deed. 
 Deceive not that opinion : we were students 
 At Padua together, and have long 
 To the world's eye shown like friends : was it 
 
 hearty 
 On your part to me ?- 
 Ere. Unfeign'd. 
 Con. You are false 
 To the good thought I held of you, and now 
 Join the worst part of man to you, yo\u- malice, 
 To uphold that falsehood : sacred innocence 
 Is fled your bosom. Signior, I must tell you. 
 To draw the picture of unkLndness truly. 
 Is to express two that have dearly lov'd, 
 And fall'n at variance. 'Tis a wonder to me. 
 Knowing my interest in the fair Jolenta, 
 That you should love her. 
 
 Ere. Compare her beauty and my youth together, 
 And you will find the fair effects of love 
 No miracle at all. 
 
 Con. Yes, it will prove 
 Prodigious to you : I must stay your voyage. 
 Ere. Your warrant must be mighty. 
 Con. 'T has a seal 
 From heaven to do it, since you would ravish 
 
 from me 
 What's there entitled mine : and yet I vow, 
 By the essential front of spotless virtue, 
 I have compassion of both our youths ; 
 To approve which, I have not ta'en the way, 
 Like an Italian, to cut your throat 
 By practice,* that had given you now for dead. 
 And never frown'd upon you. 
 Efc. You deal fair, sir. 
 Con. Quit me of one doubt, pray, sir. 
 £)•€. Move it. 
 Con. 'Tis this ; 
 Whether her brother were a main instrument 
 In her design for marriage. 
 
 Ere. If I tell truth. 
 You wUl not credit me. 
 Con. Why? 
 
 Ere. I will tell you truth, 
 Yet show some reason you have not to believe me. 
 Her brother had no hand in't : is't not hard 
 For you to credit this ] for you may think. 
 
 :/' 
 
 practice] i. e. artifice, treachery. 
 
 I count it baseness to engage another 
 Into my quarrel ; and for that take leave 
 To dissemble the truth. Sir, if you wUl fight 
 With any but myself, fight with her mother; 
 She was the motive. 
 
 Con. I have no enemy in the world, then, but 
 yourself : 
 You must fight with me. 
 
 Ere. I will, sir. 
 
 Con. And instantly. 
 
 Ere. I will haste before you : point whither. 
 f^ Con. Why, you speak nobly ; and for this fair 
 
 dealing. 
 Were the rich jewel which we vary for 
 A thing to be divided, by my life, 
 \I would be well content to give you half : 
 But since 'tis vain to think we can be friends, 
 Tis needful one of us be ta'en away 
 From being the other's enemy. 
 
 Ere. Yet, methinks. 
 This looks not like a quan-el. 
 
 Con. Not a quarrel ! 
 
 Ere. You have not apparelled your fury well ; 
 It goes too plain, like a scholar. 
 
 Con. It is an ornament 
 Makes it more terrible, and you shall find it 
 A weighty injury, and attended on 
 By discreet valour : because I do not strike you. 
 Or give you the lie, — such foul preparatives 
 Would show hke the stale injury of wine, — 
 I reserve my rage to sit on my sword's point. 
 Which a great quantity of your best blood 
 Cannot satisfy. 
 
 Ere. You promise well to yourself. 
 Shall's have no seconds 1 
 
 Con. None, for feai- of prevention. 
 
 Ere. The length of our weapons ? 
 
 Con. We'll fit them by the way : 
 So whether our time calls us to live or die, 
 Let us do both like noble gentlemen 
 And true Italians. 
 
 Ere. For that let me embrace you. 
 
 Con. Methinks, being an Italian, I trust you 
 To come somewhat too near me : 
 But your jealousy gave that embrace to try 
 If I were arm'd, did it not ] 
 
 Ere. No, believe me, 
 I take your heai't to be sufficient proof, 
 Without a privy coat ; and, for my part, 
 A taffeta is all the shirt of mail 
 I am arm'd with. 
 
 Con. You deal equally.* [Exeunt. 
 
 * Mr. Lamb calls this scene between Contariuo and 
 
118 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Re-tnter Julio, mi/A a Servant 
 Jul. Where are these gallants, the brave Ercole 
 
 And noble Contarino 1 
 
 Scr. They are newly gone, sir, 
 
 And bade me tell you that they will return 
 
 Within this half hour. 
 
 Re-enttr RoUKMO. 
 
 Jul. Met you the Lord Ercole? 
 
 Bom. No, but I met the devil in villanous 
 tidings. 
 
 Jul. Why, what's the matter? 
 
 Rom. 0, 1 am pour'd out 
 Like water ! the greatest rivers i'the world 
 Are lost in the sea ; and so am I : pray, leave me. 
 Where's Lord Ercole ? 
 
 Jul. You were aearco gone hence, 
 But in came Contarino. 
 
 Rom. Contarino I 
 
 Jul. And entreated 
 Some private conference with Ercole ; 
 And on the sudden they have given's the slip. 
 
 Rom. One mischief never comes alone : they 
 are gone 
 To fitht. 
 
 Jul. To fight ! 
 
 Rom. An you be gentlemen, 
 Do not talk, but nuiko haste after thtui. 
 
 Jul. Let's take several ways, then ; 
 And if 't be pos.sible, for women's sake.-^, 
 For they are proper men, use our endeavours 
 Tliat the prick do not spoil them. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II.» 
 StUer Eklolk and Co.ntaiu.no. 
 Con. You'll not forgo your intore^t in my 
 
 mistrehu I 
 Krc. My sword ithall answer that: come, are 
 
 you ready ? 
 Cun. Itofuro you fight, sir, think ujion your 
 cauiio ; 
 It Id a wonchoufl foul one, and T wish 
 Tliul ull your exercise, tliese four days \n\>-\, 
 lliul Iwou cnipliiy'd in a most forvout prajii-, 
 And the foul siu for which you are to figlit 
 Chiefly rouu<nibor'<l iii't. 
 Ere, I'd iM noon t4iku 
 Vour couii»fll in divinity at Ihiii proacnt, 
 A* I wriiild Uikn K kind dir«>otion ttom you 
 
 '' ittml aii<l irniilloiiiiU)llku 
 
 For the managing my weapon ; and, indeed. 
 Both would show much alike. Come, are you 
 ready ? 
 
 Con. Bethink yourself 
 How fair the object is that we contend for. 
 
 Ere. O, I cannot forget it. [They fight. 
 
 Con. You are hurt. 
 
 Ere. Did you come hither only to tell me so, 
 Or to do it? I mean well, but 'twill not thrive. 
 
 Con. Your cause, your cause, sir : 
 Will you yet be a man of conscience, and make 
 Restitution for your rage upon your death-bed 1 
 
 Ere. Xever, till the grave gather one of us. 
 
 [neyjlght again. 
 
 Con. That was fair, and home, I think. 
 
 Ere. You prate as if you were in a fence-school. 
 
 Con. Spare your youth, have compassion on 
 
 yourself. 
 Ere. When I am all in pieces ! I am now unfit 
 For any lady's bed ; take the rest with you. 
 
 [Contarino, itoundoi , falls upon Ebcole. 
 
 Con. I am lost in too much daring. — Yield 
 . your sword. 
 
 I Ere. To the pangs of death I shall, but not to 
 thee. 
 Con. You are now at my repairing or confusion : 
 Beg your life. 
 
 Ere, 0, most foolishly demanded, — 
 To bid me beg that which thou canst not give ! 
 
 Enter RoMEi.io, PROsrERO, Baptista, Abiosto, omI 
 Julio. 
 
 Pros. See, both of them are lost ! we come too 
 late. 
 
 Rom. Take up the body, and convoy it 
 To Saint Sebastian's monastery. 
 
 Con. I will not part with his sword, I hav, 
 won't. 
 
 Jul. You shall not — 
 Take him up gently ; bo; and bow his body, 
 For fear of bleeding inward. 
 Well, these are perfect lovers. 
 
 J'roa. Why, I pniyl 
 
 Jul. It lias been ever my ojiinion, 
 That there are none lovo perfectly indeotl, 
 But those that hang or di-own themselves for love : 
 Now these have chose a death next to behemlin^- ; 
 Tlioy huvo cut one imother's throats, bravo valiant 
 
 lads. 
 ^ Prot. Come, you do ill, to set the name of 
 
 valour 
 Upon n violent and mad despair. 
 Honco may ull leiu-n, that count such actions wtll, 
 The root* of fury shoot themselves to hell. 
 
 [KxrUf'l. 
 
SCENE III. 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 119 
 
 SCENE III.* 
 Enter Eomelio and Ariosto. 
 Ario. Your losses, I confess, are infinite; 
 Yet, sir, you must have patience. 
 
 Rom. Sir, my losses 
 I know, but you I do not. 
 
 Ario. 'Tis most true 
 I am but a stranger to you ; but am wish'd 
 By some of your best friends to visit you, 
 And, out of my experience in the world. 
 To instruct you patience. 
 Rom. Of what profession are you ? 
 Ario. Sir, I am a lawyer. 
 Rom. Of all men living. 
 You lawyers I account the only men 
 To confirm patience in us : your delays 
 Would make three parts of this little Christian 
 
 world 
 Run out of their wits else. Now I remember 
 You read lectures to Julio : are you such a leech 
 For patience 1 
 
 Ario. Yes, sir, I have had some crosses. 
 Rom. You are married, then, I am certain. 
 Ario. That I am, sir. 
 Rom. And have you studied patience ? 
 Ario. You shall find I have. 
 I Rom. Did you ever see your wife make you 
 cuckold 1 
 Ario. Make me cuckold ! 
 
 Rom. I ask it seriously : an you have not seen 
 that, 
 Your patience has not ta'en the right degree 
 Of wearing scarlet ; I should rather take you 
 iFor a bachelor in the art than for a doctor. 
 Ario. You are merry. 
 Rom. No, sir, with leave of your patience, 
 I am horrible angry. 
 
 Ario. What should move you 
 Put forth that harsh interrogatory, if these eyes 
 Ever saw my wife do the thing you wot of ? 
 
 Rom. Why, I'll tell you,— 
 Most radically to try your patience ; 
 And the mere question shows you but a dunce 
 
 in't,— 
 It has made you angry : there's another lawyer's 
 
 beard 
 In your forehead; you do bristle. 
 Ario. You are very conceited. f 
 But, come, this is not the right way to cure you : 
 I must talk to you like a divine. 
 Rom. I have heard 
 
 * Scene III] The coui-tof Leonora's house, 
 t conceited] i. e. disposed to jest, merry. 
 
 Some talk of it very much, and many times 
 To their auditors' impatience : but, I pray, 
 What practice do they make of 't in their lives 1 
 They are too full of choler with living honest, 
 And some of them not only impatient 
 Of their own slightest injuries, but stark mad 
 At one another's preferment. Now to you, sir : 
 I have lost three goodly caracks.* 
 Ario. So I hear. 
 Ro7n. The very spice in them, 
 Had they been shipwreck'd here upon our coast, 
 Would have made all our sea a drench. 
 
 Ai-io. All the sick horses in Italy 
 Would have been glad of your loss, then. 
 Ro7)i. You are conceited too. 
 A7'io. Come, come, come, 
 You gave those ships most strange, most dreadful. 
 And unfortunate names; I never look'd they'd 
 prosper. 
 Rom. Is there any ill omen in giving names to 
 ships 1 
 ^ Ario. Did you not call one The storm's defiance, 
 Another The scourge of the sea, and the third 
 The great leviathan ? 
 Rom. Very right, sir. 
 Ario. Very devilish names 
 All three of them ; and surely I think 
 They were curs'd in theirvery cradles,— I do mean, 
 \When they were upon their stocks. 
 Rom. Come, you are superstitious : 
 I'll give you my opinion, and 'tis serious : 
 I am persuaded there came not cuckolds enow 
 To the first launching of them, and 'twas that made 
 
 them 
 Thrive the worse for't. 0, your cuckold's handsel 
 Is pray'd for i'the city ! 
 
 Ario. I will hear no more. 
 Give me thy hand : my intent of coming hither 
 Was to persuade you to patience : as I live. 
 If ever I do visit you again. 
 
 It shall be to entreat you to be angry : sure, I will, 
 I'll be as good as my word, believe it. 
 
 Rom. So, sir. [£xit Ariosto.] How now ! 
 Are the screech-owls abi'oad already ? 
 
 £iiter Leonora. 
 
 Leon. What a dismal noise yon bell makes ! 
 Sui'e, some great person's dead. 
 
 Rom. No such matter; 
 It is the common bell-man goes about 
 To publish the sale of goods. 
 
 Leon. Why do they ring 
 
 * camcks] i. e. large ships of burden. 
 
120 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 Before my gate thus? Let them into the court:* 
 I cauuut uudcrstaud what they say. 
 
 EMrr Two DcUoiou and a Capuchin. 
 Cap. For pity's 8:ike, you that have tears to shed, 
 Sigh a soft requiem, and let fall a bead 
 For two unfortunate nobles, whose sad fate 
 Leaves them both dead and excommunicate : 
 No churchraims prayer to comfort their last 
 
 groans, 
 No Bacre<l sodt of earth to hide their bones; 
 But as their fury wrought them out of breath, 
 The canon spenkB them guilty of tlieir own death. 
 Lfon. What uoblemeu, I pray, sir? 
 Cap. The Lord Krcole 
 And the noble Contariuo, both of them slain 
 In single cumbat 
 
 Lton. O. I am lost for ever ! 
 y^Jivm. Denied Christian burial ! I pray, what 
 
 does tliat. 
 Or the dead lazy march in the funeral. 
 Or the flattery in the epiUiphs, which shows 
 More sluttisli far than all the spiders' webs \i^ 
 . Shidl ever grow upon it ; what do these ^'^ ' 
 ^Add to our well-being after death ? 
 Cap. Not a scruple. 
 Rom. Very well, then : 
 I have a certain meditation, 
 If I can think of [t], somewhat to this purpose : 
 I'll »ay it to you, while my mother there 
 NumVieni her beads. 
 
 You that dwell near those graves and vaults. 
 Which oft do hide physicians' faults. 
 Note what a sniull room does sufTico 
 To exproMS men's good : their vanities 
 Would (ill more volume in small hand 
 Than all the evidence of churohlan<l. 
 ! Funends hide men in civil wearin;;, 
 * And are to the drapers a good hearing, 
 
 .Make the hemlds laugh iti thtir black raiment, 
 1 And all «lio worlhicH die worth jtuyment 
 j To the altar oflcringM, though their fume. 
 And nil tlu' clmnty «f their namo, 
 'T« .11 hvnv«<n an<l this yield no more light 
 , Tlmi rott4!U trees which shine itho night 
 j <). look Iho loMl Oct b« the best i'tho play, 
 
 And then rtmt, gentle bourn : yet pray, 
 I Tluil Mheu by the prootHo yuu am view'd, 
 A vuiteriMxlMU bo not su'd. 
 To rvniovo you to a placo mom airy. 
 
 That, iu your stead, they may keep chary 
 Stock-fish or sea-coal ; for the abuses 
 Of sacrilege have turn'd graves to viler uses. 
 How, then, can any monument say. 
 Here rest these bones till the last day, 
 When Time, swift both of foot and feather. 
 May bear them the sexton kens not whither '. 
 What caro I, then,* though my last sleep 
 Be in the desert or in tho deep, 
 No lump nor taper, day and night. 
 To give my chai-nel chargeable light ? 
 I have there like quantity of gi-ound. 
 And at the last day I shall be found. — 
 Now, I pray, leave me. 
 
 Cap. I am sorry for your losses. 
 
 Itom. Um, sir, the more spacious that the 
 tennis-court is. 
 The more large is the hazard. 
 I dare the spiteful Fortune do her worst ; 
 I can now fear nothing. 
 
 Cup. 0, sir, yet consider, 
 He that is without fear is without hope. 
 And sins from presumption : better thoughts 
 attend you ! 
 
 [Exeunt Capuchin and Ucllnicu. 
 
 I Itom. Poor Jolenta ! should she hear of this, 
 She would not, after the report, keep fresh 
 iSo long as flowere iu graves. 
 
 Enter Prospero. 
 
 How now, Prospero I 
 
 Pios. Contarino has sent you hero his will, 
 Wherein 'a has made your sister his sole heir. 
 
 Rom. Is ho not dead ? 
 
 Pros. He's yet living. 
 
 Rom. Living ! the woi"so luck. 
 
 Leon, The worse ! I do protest it is the best 
 That ever came to disturb my prayci's. 
 
 Rom. How! 
 
 Leon. Yet I would have him live 
 To satisfy public justice for the death 
 Of Ercolo. 0, go vitiit him, for heaven's sake ! 
 1 linvo within my closet a choice relic, 
 I'ronorvativo 'gainst swooning, and some earth 
 Brought from tho Holy Land, right sovereign 
 T»> stanch blood. — Has ho skilftd surgeons, think 
 you ? 
 
 /'(•(«. Tho host in Naples, 
 
 Rum. How oft has ho been drcss'd ! 
 
 Proi. But onco. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 to mipiMiM that 
 >')' Htinipliu or by an 
 
 * ir/«i/ curt I, Oini, &a. I Coniimro Iho aplciiilid conclu- 
 sion of Kir Tlioinna lirown'a I'niBwrial: " 'Ti» nil ono U> 
 Ho In 81. Innooont'it Church-yird iim in tho wuuU ol 
 Ktiypt; rendy U> Ihi any HiIiik' In tho oontjulo of IwhiK 
 ovpr ; n« contoni wlih nix foot nit tho Molot of Adrianun.' 
 
SCESE IV. 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 121 
 
 II v- 
 
 Leon. I have some skill tbis way : 
 The second or third dressing will show clearly 
 Whether there be hope of life. I pray, be near him, 
 If there be any soul can bring me word, 
 That there is hope of life. 
 
 Rom. Do you prize his life so ? 
 
 Leon. That he may live, I mean, 
 To come to his trial, to satisfy the law. 
 
 Rom. 0, is't nothing else ? 
 
 Lton. I shall be the happiest woman ! ^ 
 
 \Ex.iv.nt Leonora anO. Prospeeo. 
 
 Rom. Here is cruelty apparelled in kindness ! 
 I am full of thoughts, strange ones, but they're no 
 
 good ones. 
 I must visit Contarino ; upon that 
 Depends an engine shall weigh up my losses, 
 Were they sunk as low as hell : yet let me think, 
 How I am impair'd in an hour, and the cause oft, 
 
 r Lost in security : 0, how this wicked world 
 
 '' bewitches, 
 
 Especially made insolent with riches ! 
 So sails with fore-winds stretch'd do soonest break, 
 
 \And pyramids a'the top are still most weak. \ExU. 
 
 SCENE IV.* 
 Enter Capuchin, and Eroole led between two. 
 Cap. Look up, sir : 
 You are preserv'd beyond natural reason ; 
 You were brought dead out o'the field, the 
 
 surgeons 
 Heady to htive embalm'd you. 
 
 JSrc. I do look 
 On my action with a thought of terror : 
 To do ill and dwell in't is unmanly. 
 Cap. You are divinely iuform'd, sir. 
 Lrc. I fought for one in whom I have no more 
 right 
 Than false executors have in orphans' goods 
 They cozen them of: yet though my cause were 
 
 naught, 
 I rather chose the hazard of my soul, 
 
 * Scene /F.] A room in the aionastery of Saint Sebastian. 
 
 Than forgo the compliment of a choleric man. 
 I pray, continue the report of my death, and give 
 
 out, 
 'Cause the church denied me Christian burial, 
 The vice-admiral of my galleys took my body, 
 "With purpose to commit it to the earth, 
 Either in SicU or Malta. 
 
 Cap. What aim you at 
 By this rumour of your death ] 
 
 £i'c. There is hope of life 
 In Contarino ; and he has my prayers 
 That he may live to enjoy what is his own, 
 The fair Jolenta : where,* should it be thought 
 That I were breathing, happily her friends 
 Would oppose it still. 
 
 Cap. But if you be suppos'd dead, 
 The law will strictly prosecute his life 
 For your murder. 
 
 Ere. That's pi-evented thus. 
 There does belong a noble privilege 
 To all his family, ever since his father 
 Bore from the worthy emperor Charles the Fifth 
 An answer to the French king's challenge, at such 
 
 time 
 The two noble princes were eugag'd to fight 
 Upon a frontier anxi o'the sea, in a flat-bottom'd 
 
 boat. 
 That if any of his family should chance 
 To kill a man i'the field in a noble cause, 
 He should have his pardon : now, sir, for his cause. 
 The world may judge if it were not honest. 
 Pray, help me in speech ; 'tis very painful to me. 
 
 Cap. Sir, I shall. 
 f Etc. The guilt of this lies in Romelio ; 
 And, as I hear, to second this good contract. 
 He has got a nun with child. 
 
 Cap. These are crimes 
 That either must make work for speedy repentance 
 Or for the devil. 
 
 Ere. I have much compassion on him ; 
 For sin and shame are ever tied together 
 With gor dian knots, of such a strong thread spun, 
 cannot without violence be undone. [Exeunt. 
 
 ^hey( 
 
 uhere] i. e. whereas. 
 
122 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASR 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 SCENE !.• 
 Enter A1UO6TO and CiusriAKo. 
 ArL Well, sir, now I must claim 
 Your promUe, to reveal to me the cause 
 Why you live thus clouded. 
 
 CrU. Sir, the King of Sjiaiu 
 Suspects that your Homelio here, the merchant, 
 Has discover'd some gold mine to his own use, 
 In the West Indies, and for that employs me 
 To discover in what part of Christendom 
 He Tcuts this treasure : besides, he is inform'd 
 What mad tricks have been play'd of late by 
 ladies. 
 A ri. Most true ; and I am glad the king has 
 heard on't : 
 Why, they use their lords as if they were their 
 
 wards; 
 And aa your Dutchwomen in the Low-Countries 
 Take all and pay all, and do keep their husbands 
 80 silly all their lives of their own estates. 
 That, when they are sick and come to make their 
 
 will, 
 Tl>ey know not precisely what to give away 
 From their wives, becuuuo they know not what 
 
 thoy are worth ; 
 80 here should I repeat what factions, 
 What bat-fowling for offices, 
 As you must conceive their game is all i'the night, 
 What calling in (juestion one another's honesties, 
 Withal what sway they bear i'the viceroy's court. 
 You'd wonder at it : 
 
 *Twill do well shortly, can we keep them off 
 Vnitn being of our council of war. 
 
 tVis. W«;ll, I have vow'd 
 Tliat I will never sit upon the bcncli more, 
 UulcNM it b« to curb the insolonoies 
 Of llioM women. 
 
 Art. Well, tike it on my word, then, 
 Yi.ui i.U.n \K!\\ !.,.i l,,i|..» be empty. [Kreuut. 
 
 .-* ■..■.1. U.f 
 KnUr noMKUo (n Ikt kabil nf a Jne. 
 Rom. I-Ucolleutly well habited ! why, methinks 
 Thai I ciuld play with mine own iibiidow ik.w, 
 
 • ■ »« / 1 A room lu Uio bouse uf An 
 
 ' - " I A sUMk h^htm Uislwdginu "> Coiitonuo. 
 
 And be a rare Italianated Jew ; 
 
 JTo have as many several chjmgc of faces 
 
 'As I have seen carv'd upon one cherry-stone; 
 To wind about a man like rotten ivy, 
 E»t into him like quicksilver ; poison a friend 
 With pulling but a loose hair from's beard, or give 
 
 a drench, 
 He should linger oft nine years, and ne'er 
 
 complain 
 But in the spring and fall, and so the cause 
 Imputed to the disease natural : for slight villanies. 
 As to coin money, corrupt ladies' honours. 
 Betray a town to the Turk, or make a bonfire 
 O'the Christian navy, I could settle to't. 
 As if I had eat a politician, 
 
 I And digested* him to nothing but pure blood. 
 
 iBut stay, I lose myself: this is the house. — 
 Within there ! 
 
 Enter Two Surgeons. 
 
 First Sur. Now, sir ? 
 
 JRom. You are the meii of art that, as I hear. 
 Have the Lord Coutarino iinder cur& 
 
 Second Sur. Yes, sir, we are his surgeons ; 
 But he is post all cui-e. 
 
 Rom. Why, is he dead ? 
 
 First Sur. lie is speechless, sir, and wo do find 
 his wouud 
 So fester'd near the vitals, all our art, 
 j By warm drinks, cannot clear th' imposthumatiou; 
 And he's so weak, to make [incision] t 
 By the orifix were present death to him. 
 
 Jlom. Ho has made a will, I hetu-. 
 
 First Sur. Yes, sir. 
 
 Rom. And deputed Jolcuta his heir. 
 
 Second Sur. Ho has ; we are witness to't. 
 
 Rom. Has not Homelio been with you yet. 
 To give you thanks and ample recompense 
 For the pains you have tu'en I 
 
 First Sur. Not yet. 
 
 Rom. Lihtoii tti me, gentlemen, fur I protest, 
 If you will seriously mind your own good, 
 I am come about a business shall convey 
 Largo logaoioH from Coutarino's will 
 To boUi of you. 
 
 ■ ilit;<tlr,l] Ttio olil oojiy ••Ul>gt»tcil " (;» ^I>olllng 
 oomutuu III early writora). 
 
 f intuitu J A word has lioro dropl out from tho old c< py. 
 
THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 123 
 
 Second Su,r. How, sir ! why, Romelio has the 
 will, 
 And in that he has given us nothing. 
 
 Rom, I pray, attend me : I am a physician. 
 
 Second Sur. A physician I where do you 
 practise ? 
 
 Rom. In Rome. 
 
 First Sur. 0, then you have store of patients. 
 
 Rom. Store ! why, look you, I can kill my 
 
 twenty a month 
 
 And work but i'tbe forenoons : you will give me 
 
 leave N 
 
 To jest and be merry with you. Bat as I said, ^ 
 All my study has been physic : I am sent 
 From a noble Roman that is near akin 
 To Contarino, and that ought indeed. 
 By the law of alliance, be his only heir, 
 To practise his good and yours. 
 
 Both Sur. How, I pray, sir ] 
 
 Rom. I can by an extraction which I have, 
 Though he were speechless, his eyes set iu's head, 
 His pulses without motion, restore to him, 
 For half an hour's space, the use of sense. 
 And perhaps a little speech : having done this. 
 If we can work him, as no doubt we shall. 
 To make another will, and therein assign 
 This gentleman his heir, I will assure you. 
 Fore I depart this house, ten thousand ducats ; 
 And then we'll pull the pillow from his head. 
 And let him e'en go whither the religion sends him 
 That he died in. 
 
 First Sur. Will you give's ten thousand ducats 1 
 
 Rom. Upon my Jewism. 
 
 Second Sur. Tis a bargain, sir, we are yours. 
 
 [CoNTAEiNO in a bed.* 
 Here is the subject you must work on. 
 
 Rom. Well said, you are honest men,. 
 And go to the business roundly ; but, gentlemen, 
 I must use my art singly. 
 
 Fmt Sur. 0, sir, you shall have all privacy. 
 
 Rom. And the doors lock'd to me. 
 
 Second Sur. At your best pleasure. — 
 Yet for all this, I will not trust this Jew. 
 
 First Sw. Faith, to say truth, 
 I do not like him neither ; he looks like a rogue. 
 This is a fine toy, fetch a man to life, 
 
 * Contarino in a bed] Here the audience were to 
 imagine a change of scene, — to the bed-chamber of the 
 wounded Contarino. Either, a traverse (or curtain) 
 being drawn back, Contarino was discovered lying on a 
 bed ; or else a bed, containing Contarino, was thrust 
 upon the stage. — lu Heywood's If you know not me, you 
 hiow nobody, we find "Enter Elizabeth in her bed," Sig. A 
 4, ed. 1623 ; and similar stage-directions occur in various 
 other old plays. 
 
 To make a new will ! there is some trick in't. 
 I'll be near you, Jew. [Fxeu7it Surgeons. 
 
 Rom. Excellent, as I would wish : these credu- 
 lous fools 
 Have given me freely what I would have bought 
 With a great deal of money. — Softly ! here's 
 
 breath yet. 
 Now, Ercole, for part of the revenge 
 Which I have vow'd for thy untimely death ! 
 Besides this politic working of my own. 
 That scorns precedent, why should this great man 
 
 live. 
 And not enjoy my sister, as I have vow'd 
 He never shall ? 0, he may alters will 
 Every new moon, if he please : to prevent which, 
 I must put in a strong caveat. Come forth, then. 
 My desperate stiletto, that may be worn 
 In a woman's hair, and ne'er discovei-'d, 
 And either would be taken for a bodkin, 
 Or a curling-iron at most : why, 'tis an engine 
 That's only fit to put in execution 
 Barmotho pigs ; * a most unmanly weapon, 
 That steals into a man's life he knows not how. 
 0, [that] great Cfesai-, he that pass'd the shock 
 Of so many armed pikes, and poison'd darts. 
 Swords, slings, and battleases, should at length, 
 Sitting at ease on a cushion, come to die 
 By such a shoe-maker's awl as this, his soul let 
 
 forth 
 At a hole no bigger than the incision 
 Made for a wheal ! Ud's foot, I am horribly angry 
 That he should die so scurvily : yet wherefore 
 Do I condemn thee thereof so cruelly. 
 Yet shake him by the handl 'tis to express. 
 That I would never have such weapons us'd 
 But in a plot like this, that's treacherous. 
 Yet this shall prove most merciful to thee. 
 For it shall preserve thee 
 From dying on a public scaffold, and withal 
 Bring thee an absolute cure, thus. [Stabs him. 
 
 So, 'tis done : 
 And now for my escape. 
 
 Re-enter Surgeons. 
 First Sur. You rogue mountebank, 
 
 * Bannotlio pigs] i. e. pigs of the Bermudas, or (as the 
 word was also written,— see p. 79) Bermoothes. 
 " 'Tis the land of peace. 
 Where hogs and tobacco yield fair increase. 
 
 I am for the Bermudas." 
 Middlcton's Any Thing for a Quiet Life, Works, iv. 499, 
 ed. Dyce. lu Odcomb's Complaint by Taylor, the water- 
 poet, is an " Epitaph in the Barmooda tongue, which rmist 
 be pronounced with the accent of the grunting of a hogge." 
 
124 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASK 
 
 1 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 < 
 
 I will try whether your inwards can endure 
 To be wash'd in scalding lesid. 
 Rom. Hold ! I turn Ciuistian. 
 Second Sur. Noy, prithee, be a Jew still ; 
 I would not have a Christian be guilty 
 Of such a villanous act as this is. 
 Jiom. I am Roiuelio the mcrcliaiit. 
 J'iiet Sur. Romelio ! you have prov'd yourself 
 A cunning merchant indeed. 
 
 Jlotn. You may read wliy I came hither. 
 Second Sur. Yes, in a bloody Roman letter. 
 Jiom. I did hate this man ; each minute of his 
 breath 
 Wafl torture to me. 
 
 First Sur. Had you forborne this act, he had 
 not liv'd 
 Tliis two hours. 
 
 Jiom. IJut he had died then, ^ 
 
 And my revenge unsatisfieil. Here's gold : 
 Never did wealthy man purchase the silence 
 Of a terrible scolding wife at a dearer rate 
 Than I will pay for yours : here's your earnest 
 In a bag of double ducats. 
 
 Second Sur. Why, look you, sir, as I do weigh 
 this businesK, 
 This cmnot bo counted murder in you by no 
 
 meiuis. 
 Why, 'tis no more than Khould I go and choke 
 An Irihhman, that were three quarters drown'd, 
 Willi pouring uacjuebatigh iu's throat. 
 Jiom. You will bo secret ? 
 J^inl Sur. As ymir Bo\d. 
 Jiom. Tho We»t Indies shall sooner want gold 
 
 than yuu, then. 
 Second Sur. That protestation has the music of 
 
 the mint in't. 
 Jiom. [luide.] How unfortunately was I surpris'd! 
 I have made myself a slave perpetually 
 To those two beggars. [Hiit. 
 
 Firtt Sur. Kxcollent ! by this act lie has ma<lo 
 
 his citato ount. 
 Second Sur. I'll presently grow a lazy surgeon, 
 and ri<lo on my foot-cloth.* I'll fetch from him 
 evrr)- ciKht days a policy ffir a hundred doublo 
 duratA . if he t^rumble, I'll ixach. 
 
 J'irtt Sur. llut let's t4»ko heed he do not poison 
 
 lu. 
 Seemtd Sur. (», I will never eat nor drink with 
 him, 
 
 ^Without unii'<.ii>'/. 1 1 ill u hollow t..<.iU, 
 
 Otm. Ol 
 
 < 
 
 groan 
 
 ■rMAlHwDot. 
 
 I Second Sur. Is the wind in that door still 1 
 J-'irtt Sur. Ha ! come hither, note a strange 
 accident : 
 His steel has lighted in the former wound. 
 And made free passage for the congeal'd blood : 
 Observe in what abundance it delivers 
 The putrefaction. 
 
 Second Sur. Methinks he fetches 
 His breath very lively. 
 
 First Sur. The hand of heaven is in't, 
 If That his intent to kill him should become 
 XThe very direct way to save his life. 
 
 Second Sur. Why, this is like one I have heard 
 of in England, 
 Was cur'd o'the gout by being rack'd i'the Tower. 
 \Vell, if we can recover him, here's reward 
 On both sides : howsoever we must be secret. 
 First Sur. We are tied to't : 
 \ When we cure gentlemen of foul diseases, 
 They give us so much for the cure, and twice as 
 much, 
 ' That we do not blab on't. Come, let's to work 
 roundly ; 
 Heat the lotion, and bring the searing. [Ejccunt. 
 
 SCENE III.*— id table set forth with two tapers, 
 a death's-head, a book. Jolenta in mouminy. 
 Romelio sits by her. 
 
 \ Rom. Wiy do you grieve thus ? take a looking- 
 glass, 
 And see if this sorrow become you : that pale face 
 Will make men think you us'd some art before, 
 ^t>me odious painting. Contiuino's dead. 
 Jol. 0, that ho should die so soon ! 
 Horn. Why, I pray, tell me, 
 Is not the shortest fever the best .' and are not 
 
 bad plays ^ 
 
 "TJie W01-90 for thoir length f> 
 ' Jul. Add not to tho ill ygu'vo duno 
 An odious blunder : he stuck i'the eyes o'tho court 
 ^As tho most choice jewel there. 
 
 Jiom, 0, bo not angry : 
 pndeed, the court to woll-compo8^d nature 
 Addit much to perfection ; for it is, or should be. 
 Ah a bright crystal mirrer to tho world 
 To drews itself: but I must tell you, sister, 
 I f tho excellency of the place could have 
 Wrought salvation, tho <k'vil had ne'er fall'n 
 1 I'roni heaven : he was proud. — Leave us, leave »is? 
 Xome, take yo\ir scat again : I have a jdot. 
 
 * Stmt 111.] A nH'iii III tlio house of Leonora. 
 
SCENE III. 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 125 
 
 J If you will listen to it seriously, 
 That goes beyond example ; it shall breed, 
 Out of the death of these two noblemen. 
 The advancement of our house. 
 ^ Jol. 0, take heed : 
 \ A grave is a rotten foundation. 
 
 Rom. Nay, nay, hear me. 
 'Tis somewhat indirectly, I confess ; 
 But there is much advancement in the woi'ldl 
 That comes in indirectly. I pray, mind me. 
 You are already made by absolute will 
 Contarino's heir : now, if it can be prov'd 
 That you have issue by Lord Ercole, 
 I will make you inherit his land too. 
 
 Jol. How's this 1 
 Issue by him, he dead, and I a virgin ! 
 
 Rom. I knew* you would wonder how it could 
 be done ; 
 But I have laid the case so radically, 
 Not all the lawyers in Christendom 
 Shall find any the least flaw in't. I have a mistress 
 Of the order of Saint Clare, a beauteous nun. 
 Who, being cloister'd ere she knew the heat 
 Her blood would arrive to, had only time enough 
 To repent, and idleness sufficient 
 To fall in love with me ; and to be short, 
 I have so much disorder'd the holy orde r, 
 I h ave got this nun with child . 
 
 Jol. Excellent work 
 Made for a dumb mid-wife ! 
 
 Rom. I am glad you grow thus pleasant. 
 Now will I have you presently give out 
 That you are full two months qmcken'd with child 
 By Ercole ; which rumour can beget 
 No scandal to you, since we will affirm 
 The precontract was so exactly done 
 By the same words us'd in the form of marriage. 
 That with a little dispensation, 
 A money matter, it shall be register'd 
 Absolute matrimony. 
 
 Jol. So, then, I conceive you ; 
 My conceiv'd child must prove youi' bastard. 
 
 Rom. Right ; 
 For at such time my mistress falls in labour, 
 You must feign the like. 
 
 Jol. 'Tis a pi'etty feat this ; 
 But I am not capable of it. 
 
 Rovi. Not capable ! 
 
 Jol. No, for the thing you would have mo 
 counterfeit 
 Is most essentially put in practice, nay, 'tis done ; 
 I am with child already. 
 
 * kneu>\ The old copies "know." 
 
 Rom. Ha ! by whom 1 
 
 Jol. By Contai-ino : do not knit the brow ; 
 The precontract shall justify it, it shall; 
 Nay, I will get some singular fine churchman. 
 Or though he be a plural one, shall affirm 
 He coupled us together. 
 
 Rom. 0, misfortune ! 
 Your child must, then, be reputed Ercole's. 
 
 Jol. Your hopes are dash'd, then, since your 
 votary's issue 
 Must not inherit the land. 
 
 Rom. No matter for that. 
 So I preserve her fame. I am strangely puzzled. 
 Why, suppose that she be brought a-bed before you. 
 And we conceal her issue till the time 
 Of your delivery, and then give out 
 That you have two at a birth; ha, were't not 
 excellent ? 
 
 Jol. And what resemblance think you would 
 they have 
 To one another ? twins are still alike : 
 Hjut this is not your aim; you would have your 
 ' child 
 
 Inherit Ercole's land. my sad soul ! 
 Have you not made me yet wretched enough. 
 But after all this frosty age in youth. 
 Which you have witch'd upon me, you will seek 
 [To poison my fame ? 
 
 Rom. That's done already. 
 
 Jol. No, sir, I did but feign it, 
 To a fatal purpose, as I thought. 
 
 Rom. What purpose ? 
 
 Jol. If you had lov'd or teuder'd my dear 
 I honour, 
 
 You would have lock'd your poniard in my heart. 
 When I nam'd I was with child : but I must live 
 To linger out till the consumption 
 OJ my own sorrow kill me. 
 I Rom. [a&ide] This will not do. 
 The devil has on the sudden furnish'd me 
 With a rare charm, yet a most unnatural 
 TFalsehood : no matter, so 'twill take. — 
 Stay, sister, I would utter to you a business. 
 But I am very loth ; a thing, indeed. 
 Nature would have compassionately conceal'd 
 Till my mother's eyes be clos'd. 
 
 Jol. Pray, what's that, sir ? 
 
 Rom. You did observe 
 With what a dear regard our mother tender'd 
 The Lord Contarino, yet how passionately 
 She sought to cross the match : why, this was 
 
 merely 
 To blind the eye o'the world ; for she did know 
 That you would marry him, and he was capable. 
 
12G 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 ACT HL 
 
 ightj 
 
 My mother doted upon him ; and it was plotted 
 Cunningly between them, after you were married, 
 Living all three together in one house, — 
 A thing I cannot whi'^pcr without liorror : 
 Why, the malice scarce of devils would suggest 
 Incontinence 'tween them two. 
 
 Jol. I remember, eincc his hurt, 
 She has been very passionately inquiring 
 After his health. 
 
 Rom. Upon my soul, this jewel. 
 With a piece of the holy cross in't, this relic, 
 Valu'd at many tliousand crowns, she would have 
 
 sent him 
 Lying upon his death-bed. 
 
 Jol. Professing, as you Fay, 
 Love to my mother, wherefore did he make 
 Me his heir ? 
 
 Rom. His will was made afore he went to fij 
 When he was first a suitor to you. 
 
 Jol. To fight ! O, well remembcr'd : 
 If he lov'd my mother, wherefore did he lose 
 Uis life in my quarrel ? 
 
 Rom. For the atlVout sake ; a word you under- 
 stand not ; 
 Because Ercolo was pretended rival to him. 
 To clear your suHpicion ; I was gull'd in't too : < 
 Should ho not have fought upou't, he had under- 
 gone / 
 The ceniiure of a coward. 
 
 Jol. How came you by 
 This wrotohed knowledge? 
 
 Rom. His surgeons* overlicard it, 
 As he did sigh it out to liis cuufes^ur, 
 Bouie lialf hour fore ho died. 
 
 Jol. I would have the Hurgcuus hang'd 
 Fur abuKJng confoHsion, and for making mo 
 Kg wretched by the report. Can this be trut h ] 
 
 Rom. No, but direct falsehood, 
 A» ever was biiiiittli'd the court. Did you over hear 
 (Jf a uiothur tliat Iwih kept her daughter's huKband 
 Kur hur own tooth? lie fancied you in ouu kind, 
 For hi* liiNt, and ho lov'd 
 
 Our inotlier in anotlior kind, for lier money, — 
 TI»o galUnt'a ruhiun riglit. Hut, come, ne'er 
 . think on't, 
 
 I Tlirow th« fowl to the di-vil tliat hatcli'd it, and 
 
 lot this 
 W.irs ull ill ilmt'« in't,— she in our motlier. 
 
 ' lind any thing i'the world 
 
 li. tlio iild iviiiy 
 •-•••iiio II hB«,-. 
 
 c 
 
 llM 
 
 <Cotn|iMa llta {•ir.K-liii^ Ulcuo.; 
 
 Turn my blood so much as this : here's such a 
 
 conflict 
 Between apparent presumption and unbelief, 
 That I shall die in't 
 0, if there be another world i'the moon, 
 As some fantastics dream,* I could wish all men. 
 The whole race of them, for their inconstancy. 
 Sent thither to people that ! Wliy, I protest, 
 I now affect the Lord Ercole's memory 
 Better than the other's. 
 
 Rom. But, were Contarino living ? — 
 
 Jol. I do call any thing to witness. 
 That the divine law prescrib'd us + 
 To strengthen an oath, were he living and in 
 
 health, 
 I would never maiTy with him. Nay, since I have 
 
 found the world 
 So fiilse to me, I'll be as false to it ; 
 Q will mother this child for you. 
 
 Rom, Ha ! 
 
 Jvl. Most certainly it will beguile part of my 
 sorrow. 
 
 Rom. 0, most assuredly ; make you smile to 
 think, 
 How many times i'the world lordships descend 
 To divers men, that might, an truth were known, 
 Be heir, for any thing belongs to the flesh, 
 As well to the Turk's richest eunuch. 
 
 Jol. But do you not think 
 '. shall have a horrible strong breath nowl 
 
 Rom. Why? 
 
 Jul. 0, with keeping your counsel, 'tis so terrible 
 foul. 
 
 Rom. Come, come, come, you must leave these 
 bitter flashes. 
 
 Jol. Must I dissemble dishonesty? you havi- 
 divora 
 Counterfeit honesty; but 1 lu>i>o hero's nonn 
 Will Uiko exceptions I now must pniotisc 
 Tiie art of a great-bellied woman, and go feign 
 Their ipialms autl swoonings. 
 
 Rom. Kat unripe fruit and oatmeal. 
 To take away your colour. 
 
 Jol. Dine in my bed 
 Some two iiours after noon. 
 
 Rnm, Anil wiion you are np, 
 M.iki- to your petticoat a quiltod pref.ioo, 
 
 'I' 'V V.Mll- bollv. 
 
 ■ (», </ lK,<-r l<r iiiiiitli'r ir..Wc/ i'tlif inooii, 
 At tomt/ittiitiiiict i/>miiij C\im|'Mra Milton ; 
 " Nul in thf uol|{hboui°lng moon, at lomt harr ilmtm'd." 
 I'iir. JjotI, n.Mik III. V. •»:.(). 
 1 Thai Iht divitif lav prftrrih',1 uj>] Qy. "Tluit flio 
 ■ llvliio luw Aim proKcrlb'd to uh " (or "kat prMcrn>i><i un ")? 
 
SCEIfE III. 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 12^ 
 
 Jol. \ have a strange conceit now. 
 I bave known some women, when they were wit! 
 
 child, 
 Have long'd to beat their husbands : what if I, j 
 To keep decorum, exercise my longing 
 Upon my tailor that way, and noddle him sound/y ? 
 He'll make the larger bill for't. 
 
 Rom. I'll get one 
 Shall be as tractable to't as stockfish. 
 
 rjol. my fantastical sorrow ! cannot I now 
 Be miserable enough, unless I wear 
 A pied fool's coat? nay, worse; for when our 
 
 passions 
 Such giddy and uncertain changes breed, 
 \ We are never well till we are mad indeed. [Exit. 
 Rom. So, iiothing in the world could have done 
 this, 
 Bat to beget in her a strong distaste 
 [of the Lord Contarino. Ojealousy, 
 How violentj especially in women ! 
 How often has it rais'd the devil up 
 / I n form of a law-case ! My especial care 
 Must be, to nourish craftily this fiend 
 'Tween the mother and the daughter, that the 
 
 deceit 
 Be not perceiv'd. My nest task, that my sister, 
 After this suppos'd child-birth, be persuaded 
 To enter into religion : 'tis concluded 
 She must never marry ; so I am left guardian 
 To her estate. And lastly, that my two surgeons 
 Be wag'd to the East Indies : let them prate 
 When they are beyond the line ; the calenture. 
 Or the scurvy, or the Indian pox, I hope. 
 Will take order for their coming back. — 
 0, here's my mother. 
 
 Enter Leonora. 
 
 I ha' strange news for you ; 
 My sister is with child. 
 
 Leon. I do look now for some great misfortunes 
 To follow ; for, indeed, mischiefs 
 Are like the visits of Franciscan friars, — 
 They never come to prey upon us single. 
 In what estate left you Contarino ? 
 
 Rom. Strange that you can skip 
 From the former sorrow to such a question ! 
 I'll tell you : in the absence of his surgeons,* 
 My charity did that for him in a trice 
 They would have done at leisure and been paid 
 
 for't; 
 I have kill'd him. 
 
 Leov. I am twenty years elder 
 S'.ice you last open'd your lins. 
 
 I * surgtons] The old copy "Surgeon." 
 
 Rom. Ha ! 
 
 Leon. You have given him the wound you 
 speak of 
 Quite thorough your mother's heart. 
 
 Rom. I will heal it presently, mother ; for this 
 sorrow 
 Belongs to your error : you would have him live 
 Because you think he's father of the child ; 
 But Jolenta vows by all the rights of truth, 
 'Tis Ercole's. It makes me smile to think 
 How cunningly my sister could be drawn 
 To the contract, and yet how familiarly 
 To his bed : doves never couple without 
 A kind of murmur. 
 
 Leon, 0, I am very sick ! 
 
 Rom. Your old disease ; when you are griev'd. 
 You are troubled with the mother.* 
 
 Leon. I am rapt with the mother indeed, 
 That I ever bore such a son. 
 
 Rom. Pray, tend my sister ; 
 I am infinitely full of business. 
 
 Leon. Stay ; you will mourn for Contarino 1 
 
 Rom. 0, by all means : 'tis fit ; my sister is his 
 heir. [Exit. 
 
 j Leon. I will make you chief mourner, believe it.. 
 Never was woe like mine. 0, that my care. 
 And absolute study to preserve his life, 
 Should be his absolute ruin ! Is he gone, then 1 
 There is no plague i'the world can be compar'd 
 To impossible desu-e ; for they are plagu'd 
 In the desire itself. Never, 0, never 
 Shall I behold him living, in whose life 
 I liv'd far sweetlier than in mine own ! 
 A precise curiosity + has undone me : why did I not 
 Make my love known directlj^ ? 'thad not been 
 Beyond example, for a matron 
 To affect i'the honourable way of marriage 
 So youthful a person. 0, 1 shall run mad ! 
 For as we love our youngest children best. 
 So the last fruit of our affection, 
 Wherever we bestow it, is most strong. 
 Most violent, most unresistible. 
 Since 'tis indeed our latest harvest-home, 
 Last merriment fore winter ; and we widows, 
 As men report of our best picture-makers. 
 We love the piece we are in hand with better 
 Than all the excellent work we have done before. 
 And my son has depriv'd me of all this ! ha, my 
 
 son! 
 I'll be a Fury to him : like an Amazon lady, 
 I'd cut off this right pap that gave him suck. 
 
 * the moiher] See note t, p. 68. 
 
 t curinsity] i. e. niceuess, scrupulousness. 
 
128 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASK 
 
 To shoot him dead : I'll no more tender him 
 i Than had a wolf Btol'u to my teat i'the night, 
 I And robb'd me of my milk ; nay, such a creature 
 
 I should love better far.— Ua, ha! what say you ? 
 I I do talk to somew hat^ mctjunkaj it may be 
 
 M y evil Gauiua . Do not the bells ring ? 
 
 I Lave a strange noise in rny head : 0, fly in pieces ! 
 
 Come, age, and wither me into the malice 
 I Of those that have been happy ! let me have 
 I O ne property more than the devil of hell, 
 ' Lot mo envy the pleasure of youth heartily : 
 
 Let mo in this life fear no kind of ill, 
 I That have no good to hope for: let me die 
 I In the distraction of that worthy prince'^s 
 I Who loathed food,' and sleep, and ceremony. 
 
 For thought of losing that brave gentleman 
 
 She would fain have sav'd, had not a false convcy- 
 > ance 
 
 LI ExpressM him stubborn-hearted : let mo sink 
 Where neither man nor memory may e'er find me. 
 [Falls doum. 
 
 I EnUr Capuchin and EncoLK. 
 
 Cup. This is a private way which I command 
 Ah her confessor. I would not have you seen yet, 
 Till I prepare her [Ercole re/jrw]— Peace to you, 
 I lady ! 
 
 j I^on. Ha! 
 
 I Cap. You are well employ'd, I hope : the best 
 pillow i'the world 
 For tliis your conteini>latiou ia the earth, 
 Au<l the best oljuct hcavi-n. 
 
 l/eon. I am whispering to a dead fricinl. 
 Cap. And I am como 
 To bring you ti<rmg8 of a friend was dcail 
 Itfixtor'd to life again. 
 Ijeon. Say, sir. 
 Cap. One whom, 
 I dare pre«uine, next to your chiMroii, 
 You t«ndor'd above life. 
 
 Leon, Heaven will not sulTcr mo 
 Utterly to 1)0 lout. 
 
 Cap F«>r h" Mhould have been 
 Your niirttculouisly Mav'd 
 
 Whfw ivo him o'er. 
 
 /xoii, l>, may you livo 
 To will umny houIm to heaven, worthy nir, 
 Tii.ii \ ...III i.i« II limy bo the greater! Wliy, my son 
 
 M ,.!.' .... ).. . . v.. I... „<,,],■ int.. 1,1s ,•!....,).,. f 
 
 thoro la n 
 
 ,' uwii EIIm- 
 . .;U "the well- 
 .f tho I'uuiitoaa nr 
 
 And ended that which Ercole began 
 By a deadly stab in's heart. 
 
 Erco. [agide] Alas, bhe mistakes ! 
 'Tis Contarino she wishes living: but I must fasten 
 On her last words, for my own safety. 
 
 Leon. Where, 0, where shall I meet this comfort 
 L'rco. [coining forward] Here in the vowe.l 
 
 comfort of your daughter. 
 Leon. 0, 1 am dead again ! instead of the man, 
 You present me the grave swallow'd him. 
 
 Erco. Collect yourself, good lady. 
 Would you behold brave Contarino living, 
 There cannot be a nobler chronicle 
 Of h'u good than myself: if you would view hiui 
 
 dead, 
 I will present him to you bleeding fresh 
 In my penitency. 
 
 Leon. Sir, you do only live 
 To redeem another ill you have committed, 
 That my poor innocent daughter perish not, 
 By your vile sin, whom you have got with child. 
 Erco. Here begin all my compassion. poor 
 soul ! 
 She is with child by Contai-ino ; and ho dead, 
 By whom should she preserve her fame to the 
 
 world 
 But by myself that lov'd her 'bove the world ? 
 There never was a way more honourable 
 To exercise my virtue, than to father it. 
 And preserve her credit, and to marry her. 
 I'll suppose her Coutarino's widow, beijueath'd 
 
 to me 
 Upon his death ; for, sure, she was his wife. 
 But that tho cerenionj' o'lhe church was wanting. 
 Report this to her, madam, and withal. 
 That never father did conceive moro joy 
 For tiie birth of an heir, than I to understand 
 She had such confidonco in me. I will not now 
 Press a visit upon her, till you have prepar'd her; 
 For I do read in your distraction. 
 Should I be brought o'the sudiicn to her presence, 
 Either tho hasty fright, or else tho shaino. 
 May liliust the fruit within her. I will leave you 
 To conunend us loyid faith and service to her 
 As e'er heart harbour'il : by my hope of bliss, 
 I never liv'd to do good act but this. 
 
 Clip, [aside to Kiico.] Witiial, an you bo wise, 
 itoiiu'iiiber what the mother had rovcal'd 
 i)f Uouflio's treachery. 
 
 [ Kxcuul Eroolk and Capuchin. 
 l^on. A most uoblo fellow I in his loyalty 
 j F read what worthy comforts I have lo»t 
 In my dear Coiiturino ; nud all adds 
 To my despair.— Within tliere! 
 
SCENE I. 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 129 
 
 fi 
 
 Enter Winifrud. 
 
 Fetch the picture 
 Hangs in my inner closet. [Exit Winifred.] 
 
 I remember 
 I let a word slip of Eomelio's practice * 
 At the surgeons'; no matter, I can salve it: 
 I have deeper vengeance that's preparing for him ; 
 To let him live and kill him, that's revenge 
 I meditate upon. 
 
 Re-enter Winifred with the Picture. 
 
 So, hang it up. 
 I was enjoin'd by the party ought that picture, 
 Forty years since, ever when I was vex'd, 
 To look upon that : what was his meaning in't 
 I know not, but methinks upon the sudden 
 It has furnish'd me with mischief, such a plot 
 As never mother dream'd of. Here begins 
 My part i'the play : my son's estate is sunk 
 By loss at sea, and he has nothing left 
 But the land his father left him. 'Tis concluded, 
 V__The lawshall undo him. — Come hither : 
 I have a weighty secret to impart ; 
 But I would have thee first confirm to me, 
 How I may trust that thou canst keep my counsel 
 Beyond death. 
 
 Win. Why, mistress, 'tis your only way. 
 To enjoin me first that I reveal to you 
 The worst act I e'er did in all my life ; 
 So one secret shall bind one another. 
 
 Leon. Thou iustruct'st me 
 Most ingenuously ;t for, indeed, it is not fit. 
 Where any act is plotted that is naught, 
 Any of counsel to it should be good ; 
 And in a thousand ills have happ'd i'the world,! 
 The intelligence of one another's shame 
 Have wrought far more effectually than the tic 
 Of conscience or religion. 
 
 Win. But think not, mistress, 
 That any siu which ever I committed 
 Did concern you; for proving false in one thing, 
 You were a fool if ever you would trust me 
 In the least matter of weight. 
 
 Leon. Thou hast liv'd with me 
 These forty years ; we have grown old together. 
 As many ladies and their women do. 
 With talking nothing and with doing less ; 
 We have spent our life in that which least con- 
 cerns life, 
 Only in putting on our clothes : and now I think 
 
 on't, 
 I have been a very courtly mistress to thee, — 
 j I have given thee good words, but uo deeds : 
 now's the time 
 To requite all : my son has six lordships left him. 
 Win. 'Tis truth. 
 
 Leon. But he cannot live fom- days to enjoy them. 
 Win. Have you poison'd him 1 
 Leon. No, the poison is yet but brewing. 
 Win. You must minister it to him with all 
 
 privacy. 
 Leon. Privacy ! It shall be given him 
 In open court ; I'll make him swallow it 
 Before the judge's face : if he be master 
 . Of poor ten arpines * of land forty hours longer, 
 vJLet the world repute me an honest woman. 
 Win. So 'twill, I hope. 
 Leon. 0, thou canst not conceive 
 My unimitable plot ! Let's to my ghostly father ; 
 Where first I will have thee make a pi'omise 
 To keep my counsel, and then I will emx:)loy thee 
 In such a subtle combination, 
 Which will require, to make the practice fit, 
 F our devils, five advocates, to one woman's wit. 
 ' ' - - - - [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT lY. 
 
 SCENE I.J 
 
 Enter, at one door, Leonora, Sanitonella, Winifred, 
 
 and Kegister ; at the other, Ariosto. 
 
 San. Take her into your of&ce, sir ; she has that 
 In her belly will dry up your ink, I can tell you. — 
 
 * practice'] See note * p. 117. 
 
 t ingenuoushj] See note t, p. 26. 
 
 } Scene I.] A room, it would appear, in the house of 
 Ariosto : but, on his exit, p. 130, a change of scene 
 seems to be supiiosed, — to the house of Contilupo. (Qy, 
 might this scene be marked as taking place in one of the 
 
 This is the man that is your learned counsel, 
 A fellow that will troll it off with tongue : 
 He never goes witbout restorative powder 
 Of the lungs of fox iu's pocket, and Malaga I'aisins, 
 To make him long-winded. — Sii", this gentle- 
 woman 
 Entreats your counsel in an honest cause, 
 
 halls surrounding the Hall of Justice in the ancient 
 palace of the Vicaria? See Naples, Political, Social, and 
 Religious, By Lord B*****, 1856, vol. ii. 27— S). 
 * arpines] Fr. arpent, an acre. 
 
13« 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 Which, please you, sir, this brief, my own poor 
 
 labour, 
 Will give you light of. [Gitea the brief. 
 
 Ario. Do you call this a brief? 
 Here's, a.s I weigh them, some four-score sheets of 
 
 paper : 
 What would they weigh, if there were cheese 
 
 wrapt in them, 
 dr fig-dates ? 
 
 Han. Joy come to you, you arc merry : 
 We call tills but a brief in our office : 
 The pcopo of the business lies i'the margent. 
 
 Ario. Metliinks you prate too much : 
 I never could endure an honest cause 
 With a long prologue to't 
 
 Zcon. You trouble him. 
 
 Ario. What's here 1 strange? I have liv'd this 
 sixty years. 
 Yet in all my practice never did shake hands 
 With a cause so odious. — Sirrah, arc you her 
 knave \ 
 
 San. No, sir, I am a clerk, 
 
 Ario. Why, you whoreson fogging rascal. 
 Are there not whores enow for presentations 
 Of overseers wrong the will o'the dead, 
 Oiipressious of widows or young orf)hanp, 
 Wi«.ked divorces, or your vicious cause 
 Of I'lai rjuam tatis to content a woman, 
 J'ut you muHt find new stratagems, new purse- 
 nets? — • 
 women, as the ballad lives to tell you, 
 What will you shortly come to ! 
 
 •^n. Your fee is ready*, eii-. 
 
 Ario. The devil take such fees, 
 Andallsuch suitsi'thetailof them ! — Seo,the8lavc 
 lliui writ false Latin ! — Sirrah ignoramus, 
 Wero you ever at the university ? 
 
 San. Never, sir : 
 IJut 'tis wull known to divers I have commencM 
 In n jKJW of our otlico. 
 
 Ario. Where f in u pew of your office ! 
 
 .Van. I liava been dry-founder'd in't this four 
 
 yCNOT, 
 
 Soldoin found non- resident from my desk. 
 
 Ario. Noureiitdent, nub-Bunuior ! 
 I'll tflor your libol for abusing that word, 
 ily virtue of the clergy. [Ttara Uu britf. 
 
 .San. Whul do you moan, sir ? 
 It c<»»t me four iiighta' labour. 
 
 Ano. Ilndiit iJiou boi'u drunk so lon^. 
 Thoii'.Ut done our ((nut bottt-r norviro. 
 
 • , >.r« .,„,| I t ,„ I, t,,j ,„„,m,|, „f ^l,l^,l, ^„ Urn-.vii 
 loi(«U>ar by • ■U«iig. 
 
 L. 
 
 {Erit. 
 
 Letn. Sure, the old man's frantic. 
 
 San. Plague on's gouty fingers ! 
 Were all of his miud, to entertain no suita 
 But such they thought wore honest, sure our 
 
 lawyers 
 Would not purchase • half so fast. 
 
 Enttr CoNTiLUPO, a tpruet lawyer. 
 
 But here's the man, 
 Leiirn'd Siguier Cantilup*; hero's a fellow 
 Of another piece, believe't. — I must make shift 
 With the foul copy. 
 
 Wonlil, Business to me I 
 San. To you, air, from this lady. 
 ttuntil. She is welcome. 
 
 San. "Tis a foul copy, nir, you'll hardly re.id it : 
 Tliero's twenty doublo-ducats, — can you road, .sir ? 
 Ctnlil. Kxceediug well, very, very exceed- 
 ing well. 
 San. [<wi</f]. Tills man will bo sav'd, he can) 
 read : Lord, Lord, 
 T.) HOC what money can do 1 bo the hand ne'e^so foul, 
 Somewhat will bo pick'd out on't 
 • i>MivAa«r] I. 0. Btvjuiro woalth : iico nolo t. p. '*• 
 
 Leon. Sir, you do forget your gravity, methiuks. 
 Ario. Cry ye mercy, do I bo? 
 And, as I take it, you do very little remember 
 Either womanhood or Christianity. AVhy do ye 
 
 meddle 
 With that seducing knave, that's good for naught, 
 Unless't be to fill the office full of fleas, 
 Or a winter-itch ; wears that spacious ink-horn 
 All a vacation only to cure tetters. 
 And his penknife to weed corns from the splay 
 
 toes 
 Of the right worshipful of the office ? 
 Leon. You make bold with me, sir. 
 Ai-io. Woman, you're mad, I'll swear't, and 
 
 have more need 
 Of a physician than a lawyer. 
 The melancholy humour flows in your face; 
 Your painting cannot hide it. Such vile suits 
 Disgrace our courts, and these mako honest j 
 
 lawyers I 
 
 Stop their own ears whilst they plead; and that's ' 
 
 the reason ' 
 
 Your younger men, that have good conscience, 
 Wear such large night-caps. Go, old woman, j 
 
 go pray t 
 
 For lunacy, or else the devil himself i 
 
 Has ta'en possession of thee. May like cause ' 
 
 In any Christian court never find name ! 
 Bad suits, and not the law, bred the law's shame. ' 
 
SCEJTE 11. 
 
 THE DEVIL' I LAW-Cl^E. 
 
 131 
 
 Contil. Is not this vivere honeste ? 
 
 San. No, that's struck out, sir; 
 And wherever you find vivere honeste in these 
 
 papers. 
 Give it a dash, sir. 
 
 Contil. I shall be mindful of it. 
 In troth, you write a pretty secretary : 
 Your secretary-hand ever takes best, 
 In mine opinion. 
 
 San. Sir, I have been in France, 
 And there, believe"t, your court-hand generally 
 Takes beyond thought. 
 
 Contil. Even as a man is traded in't. 
 
 San. [asidel. That I could not think of this" 
 virtuous gentleman 
 Before I went to the other hog-rubber ! * 
 Why, this was wont to give young clerks half 
 
 fees 
 To help him to clients. — Your opinion in the 
 
 case, sir 
 
 Contil. I am struck with wonder, almost , 
 ecstasi'd. 
 With this most goodly suit. 
 
 Leo. It is the fruit 
 Of a most hearty penitence. 
 
 , Contil. 'Tis a case 
 Shall leave a precedent to all the world. 
 In our succeeding annals, and deserves 
 Rather a spacious public theatre 
 Then a pent court for audience : it shall teach 
 All ladies the right path to rectify 
 Their issue. 
 
 San. Lo, you, here's a man of comfort ! 
 Contil. And you shall go unto a peaceful 
 grave, 
 Discharg'd of such a guilt as would have lain 
 Howling for ever at your wounded heart, 
 And rose with you to judgment. 
 
 San. 0, give me such a lawyer as will think 
 Of the day of judgment ! 
 
 Leon. You must urge the business 
 Against him as spitefully as may be. 
 
 Contil. Doubt not. — What, is he summ«n'd ? 
 San. Yes, and the court will sit within this 
 half hour : 
 Peruse your notes; you have very short warning. 
 
 Contil. Never fear you that. — 
 Follow me, worthy lady, and make account 
 This suit is ended already. [Exeunt. 
 
 ■" Iwg-ruhher'] Not a "dictifnary w»rd ; " but old Bur- 
 ton uses it; "The very rusticks and h^g-rubbers, Me- 
 nalcas and C»riden, &c." Anat. ot MelancJioln, p. 540, 
 cd. 1660. 
 
 SCENE II.* 
 
 Enter Officers, ^wepanng seats for the Judges; to them 
 Ercole muffled. 
 
 First Off. You would have a private seat, sir 1 
 Ei-c. Yes, sir. 
 
 Second Off. Hei-e's a closet belongs to the court 
 Where you may hear all unseen. 
 Ei'c. I thank you : there's money. 
 Second Off. I give you your thanks again, sir. 
 [Eecole goes into the closet. 
 
 Enter Contarino and the Two Surgeons, disguised. 
 
 Con. Is't possible Romelio's perstiaded 
 You are gone to the East Indies ? 
 
 First Sur. Most confidently. 
 
 Con. But do you mean to go ? 
 
 Second Sur. How ! go to the East Indies ! and 
 so many Hollanders gone to fetch sauce for their 
 pickled heriings ! some have been peppered there 
 too lately.t But, I pray, being thus well recovered 
 of your wounds, why do you not reveal yourself? 
 
 Con. That my fair Jolenta should be rumour'd 
 To be with child by noble Ercole, 
 Makes me expect to what a violent issue 
 These passages will come. I hear her brother 
 Is marrying the infant she goes with. 
 Fore it be born ; as, if it be a daughter. 
 To the Duke of Austria's nephew, — if a son, 
 Into the noble ancient family 
 Of the ralavafinLJ H_e^s_a subtlejdeyil ; 
 A nd I do wonder what strange suit in law 
 Has happ'd between hi m and 's mother. 
 
 First Sur. 'Tis whisper'd 'mong the lawyers, 
 'Twill undo him for ever. 
 
 Enter Sanitonella and WiNirRED, 
 San. Do you hear, officers ? 
 You must take special care that you let in 
 No brachygraphy-men § to take notes. 
 First Off. No, sir ? 
 San. By no means : 
 We cannot have a cause of any fame, 
 But you must have scurvy pamphlets and lewd 
 ballads 
 
 * Scene //.] A court of justice. 
 
 t somehavebeen peppered there toolately'] Webster alludes 
 to the massacre of the English by the Dutch at Am- 
 boyna, in February, 1022. The True Relation of the 
 atrocity has been several times reprinted. Dryden 
 wrote an execrable play on the subject. 
 
 I Palavnfini] Qy. " Pallavicini." 
 
 § brachyrjraphy-mcnl i. e. short-hand writers:— no great 
 
 I favourites of our old dramatists, who had sometimes to 
 complain of their plays being printed without their con- 
 sent, in a mutilated state, from copies taken down by 
 brachygraphy during the representation. 
 
132 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 Acrr IV. 
 
 Engender'd of it presently. — Have you broke 
 
 fast yet ? 
 
 Win. Not I, sir. 
 
 San. 'Twas very ill done of you, 
 For this cause will be long a-pleading; but no* 
 
 matter, 
 I have a modicum in my buckram bag 
 To stop your stomach. 
 
 Win. What is't ? green ginger 1 
 
 San, Green ginger, nor pellitory of Spain 
 Neither ; yet 'twill stop a hollow tooth better 
 Thau either of them. 
 
 Win. Pray, what ia't ? 
 
 •San. Look you, 
 It is a verj" lovely pudding-pie. 
 Which we clerks find gi'eat relief in. 
 
 Win. I shall have no stomach. 
 
 San, No matter an you have not ; I may plea- 
 sure 
 Some of our learned counsel with't : I have done it 
 ttany a time and often, when a cause 
 lloB prov'd like an after-game at Irish.f 
 
 £nUr, at one bar, CaisriAfto lUct a Judge, with another 
 Judge, CoNTll-UPO, and another laicyer ; at another 
 bar, RoMKi.io, Akiosto, Leonora with a black veil 
 orrr htr, and Jl'lio. 
 
 Crit. 'Tis a strange suit — Is Leonora come 1 
 
 t'imtil. Slie's here, my lord. — Make way there 
 for the laily ! 
 
 Crii. Take off her veil : it seems she is osham'd 
 To look her cause i'tho face. 
 
 Contil. Slie's sick, my lord. 
 
 Ario. She's mad, my lord, and would bo kept 
 more darL — 
 ( To Huit.] Hy your favour, sir, I have now occasion 
 'I'o he at your elbow, and within this half hour 
 Hhttll entreat you to be ongiy, very angry. 
 
 tVu. Is Ilouieliu come I 
 
 Jlom, I am hero, my lord, and call'd, I do 
 prot««t. 
 To aitflwor what I know not, for as yet 
 I anj wholly ignorant of whut the court 
 WjU charge mu with. 
 
 tVw. I aiNiiro you, tho jirocoeding 
 I« uvmt une<|iul then, for 1 percuivo 
 
 • m) Tho old oupjr "mot,- 
 
 ' 'I Iri»h. "a iraine wlthlii tho 
 
 t'nck-ifnimiiiiii. "IrlMli." 
 
 " I* lui liiKoiiluiw iptrno, and 
 »t-,i*H« » ut^i a,(jj „, ,k,|i t^ |,,gy ^^ ^^1,^ ttpffiaily the 
 
 V^".^""' ■ ■ '•"■'"• ^/'^rgamt I know not 
 
 "<i liiual herein tniat to 
 .rico of iho illoo. nnd If 
 
 , ■•- ■ U will bo »o much tlio 
 
 The counsel of the adverse party furuish'd 
 With full instruction. 
 
 Rom. Pray, my lord, who is my accuser 1 
 
 Cris. 'Tis your mother. 
 
 Jtom. \asidc\. She has discover'd Contariuo's 
 murder : 
 If she prove so unnatural to call 
 My life in question, I am arm'd to suffer 
 This to end all my losses. 
 
 Crit. Sir, we will do you 
 This favour, you shall hear the accusation ; 
 Which being known, we will adjourn the court 
 Till a fortnight hence : you may provide your 
 counsel. 
 
 Ario. I advise you take their proffer. 
 Or else the lunacy runs in a blood ; 
 You arc more mad than she. 
 
 Rom. What are you, sir? 
 
 Ario. An angry fellow that would do thee good, 
 For goodness' sake itself, I do protest. 
 Neither for love nor money. 
 
 Rom. Pi-ithce, stand further, I shall gall your 
 gout else. 
 
 Ario. Come, come, I know you for an East 
 Indy merchant ; 
 You have a spice of pride in you still. 
 
 Rom, My lord, 
 I am so strengthen'd in my innocence, 
 For any tho least shadow of a crime 
 Committed 'gainst my mother or the world, 
 That she can charge me with, here do I make it 
 My humble suit, only this hour and place 
 Maj' give it as full hearing, and as free 
 Aud unrestrain'd a sentence. 
 
 Cris. Be not too confident ; 
 You have cause to fear. 
 
 Rom. Let fear dwell with earthquakes. 
 Shipwrecks at sea, or prodigies in heaven : 
 I cauuot sot myself so many fathom 
 Beneath tho height of my true heart as feoi*. 
 
 Ario. Very fino words, I assure you, if they wore 
 To any purpose. 
 
 Crit. Well, have your entrooty : 
 And if your own credulity undo you, 
 Bhuae not the court liereaftor. — Fall to your ploju 
 
 Contil. iMiiy it please your lordship and tho 
 reverend co»ut 
 To give mo leave to open to you a ca«o 
 So rare, ho altogether void of i)rocedeiit, 
 Tliat I do clialloiigo all the spacious volumes 
 Of tho wlioU) civil law to show tho like. 
 Wo are of coun»el for this gentlewoman ; 
 Wo have recoiv'd our foe : yet tho wliole course 
 Of what wo ore to speak is quite against her ; 
 
SCKSTE II. 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 133 
 
 r Yet we'll deserve our fee too. There stands one, 
 Romelio the merchant : I will name him to you 
 Without either title or addition ; 
 Fo r those false beams of his suppo sed honour. 
 As void of true heat as are painted * f ires ~ "- 
 O r glow-worms in the dark, suit hini .alOjasely, 
 As if he had bought his gentry from the herald 
 With money got by extortion : I will first 
 Produce this J^sop's crow, as he stands forfeit 
 For the long use of his gay borrow'd plumes, 
 ^And then let him hop naked. I come to the 
 point, 
 T'as been a dream in Naples, very near 
 This eight-and-thirty years, that this Eomelio 
 Was nobly descended ; he has rank'd himself 
 With the nobility, shamefully usurp'd 
 Their place, and in a kind of saucy pride, 
 Which, like to mushrooms, ever grow most rank 
 When they do spring from dung-hills, sought to 
 
 o'ersway 
 The Fliski,t the Grimaldi, Dorii, 
 And all the ancient pillars of our state : 
 View now what he is come to, — this poor thing 
 Without a name, this cuckoo hatch'd i'the nest 
 Of a hedge-sparrow ! 
 
 Rom. Speaks he all this to me 1 
 
 Ario. Only to you, sir. 
 
 Mom. I do not ask thee; prithee, hold thy 
 prating. 
 
 Ario. Why, very good ; you will be presently 
 As angry as I could wish. 
 
 Contil. What title shall I set to this base coin 1 
 He has no name ; and for's aspect, he seems 
 A giant in a May-game, that within 
 Is nothing but a porter. I'll undertake, 
 He had as good have travell'd all his life 
 With gipsies : I will sell him to any man 
 For an hundred cecchins, and he that buys him 
 
 of me 
 Shall lose by the hand too. 
 
 Ai'io. Lo, what you are come to, 
 You that did scorn to trade in any thing 
 But gold, or spices, or your cochineal ! 
 He rates you now at poor-Johu.J 
 
 Horn. Out upon thee ! 
 I would thou wert of his side. 
 
 Ario. Would you so ] 
 
 Rom. The devil a nd t hee together on each ban d, 
 
 * are painted'] The old copy "are all painted," — the eye 
 of the transcriber or compositor having caught the 
 "all " iu the uext line. 
 
 t FlisH] Qy. "Fiescki?" 
 
 t poor-John] i. e. a coarse kind offish (generally hake) 
 salted and dried. 
 
 To prompt the lawy er's memory when he 
 founders. 
 Cris. Signior Contilupo, the court holds it fit 
 You leave this stale declaiming 'gainst the person, 
 And come to the matter. 
 
 Contil. Now I shall, my lord. 
 Cris. It shows a poor malicious eloquence; 
 And it is strange men of your gravity 
 Will not forgo it : verily, I presume. 
 If you but heard yourself speaking with my ears, 
 Your phrase would be more modest. 
 Contil. Good my lord, be assur'd 
 I will leave all circumstance, and come to the 
 
 purpose : 
 This Romelio is a bastard. 
 
 Rom. How, a bastard ! 
 mother, now the day begins grow hot 
 On your side ! 
 
 Contil. ^Vhy, she is your accuser. 
 Rom. I had forgot that. Was my father married 
 To any other woman at the time 
 Of my begetting ? 
 
 Contil. That's not the business. 
 Rom,. I turn me, then, to you that were my 
 mother ; 
 But by what name I am to call you now. 
 You must instruct me : were you ever married 
 To my father ? 
 
 Leon. To my shame I speak it, never. 
 Cris. Not to Francisco Romelio ? 
 Leon. May it please your lordships, 
 To him I was ; but he was not his father. 
 
 Contil. Good my lord, give us leave in a few 
 words 
 To expound th* riddle, and to make it plain 
 Without the least of scruple ; for I take it 
 There cannot be more lawful proof i'the world 
 Than the oath of the mother. 
 
 Cris. Well, then, to your proofs, 
 And be not tedious. 
 
 Contil. I'll conclude in a word. 
 Some nine-and-thii-ty years since, which was the 
 
 time 
 This woman was married, Francisco Romelio, 
 This gentleman's putative father and her husband, 
 Being not married to her past a fortnight, 
 Would needs go travel ; did so, and continu'd 
 In France and the Low-Countries eleven months : 
 Take special note o'the time, I beseech your 
 
 lordship, 
 For it makes much to the business. In his 
 
 absence 
 He left behind to sojourn at his house 
 A Spanish gentleman, a fine spruce youth 
 
134 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 By the lady's confession, and you may be sure 
 He was no eunuch neither : he was one 
 Romelio lov'd very dearly ; as oft haps 
 No man alive more welcome to the husband 
 Than he that makes him cuckold. This gentle- 
 man, I say, 
 Breaking all laws of hospitality. 
 Got his friend's wife with child, a full two months 
 Fore the husband retum'd. 
 
 San. Good sir, forget not the lamb-skin. 
 
 Condi. I wan-ant thee. 
 
 San. I will pinch by the buttock 
 To put you in mind oft. 
 
 Contil. Prithee, hold thy prating. — 
 What's to be practis'd now, my lord / marry, 
 
 this: 
 Romelio being a young novice, not acquainted 
 With this precedence, very innocently 
 Returning homo from travel, finds his wife 
 Grown an excellent good huswife, for she had set 
 Her women to spin flax, and, to that use. 
 Had in a study which was built of stone 
 Stor'd up at Ica-st an himdred weight of flax : 
 Marrj-, such a thread as was to be spun from the 
 
 flax, 
 I think the like was never beard of. 
 
 CrU. What was that 1 
 
 Contil. You may be cortaiu she would lose no 
 time 
 In bragging that her husband had got up 
 Her belly : to bo short, at seven mouths' end. 
 Which was the time of her delivery, 
 And when she felt herself to fall in travail, 
 She mnkeji her waiting-woman, as by mischance, 
 Set firo to the flax ; the fright * whereof. 
 Ail tlicy protend, causoB this gentlewoman 
 To full in pain, and bo delivor5d 
 Kight weeks afore her reckoning. 
 
 .San. Now, sir, remember the lamb-skin. 
 
 Condi. The midwife etniiglit howls out, there 
 wuji no hope 
 Of the iiifant'« life ; swaddloa it in a fliiy'd lamb- 
 
 •kiti, 
 Am a bir»l hutch 'd too early ; makes it up 
 With three (nmrtoni of a face, that made it look 
 l.iki- a chniiKfling; cricM out to Uoinelio 
 'I ! ...vo it cliriiiUjn'd, lout it should depart 
 \S;ih.,ul that it came for: and thus luo many 
 
 •orv'd 
 That tako c»ro to got goiuipN for tiiONe children 
 'I'.j whlrh Ihoy iiiiKhl bo godfuliu-m thonisylvaB, 
 All. I yt » o iiu aroh|iuritaiM uoilli.>r. 
 
 • /riffUl TUo old oo|7 "fiight." 
 
 ( 
 
 Cris. No more ! 
 
 Ario. Pray, my lord, give him way, you spoil 
 his oratory else : 
 Thus would they jest, were they fee'd to open 
 Their sisters' cases. 
 
 Crit. You have urg'd enough : 
 You first aflirm her husband was away from her 
 Eleven months ? 
 
 Condi. Yes, my lord. 
 
 Cris. And at seven months* end, 
 After his return, she was delivei-'d 
 Of this Romelio, and had gone her full time ? 
 
 Condi. True, my lord. 
 
 Ci-is. So by this account this gentleman was 
 begot 
 In his suppos'd father's absence ? 
 
 Condi. You have it fully. 
 
 Cris. A most strange suit this : 'tis beyond 
 example, 
 
 Either time past or present, for a woman 
 To publish her own dishonour voluntarily. 
 Without being call'diu question, some forty years 
 After the sin committed, and her counsel 
 To enlai-ge the offence with as much oratory 
 As ever I did hear them in my life 
 Defend a guilty woman ; 'tis most strange : 
 Or why with such a poison'd violence 
 Should she labour her son's undoing : we observe 
 Obedience of creatures to the law of nature 
 Is the stay of the wholo world ; here that law is 
 
 broke ; 
 For though our civil law makes difference 
 [Be]twceu the base and the legitimate. 
 Compassionate nature makes them equal, nay, 
 She many tiuies prefers them. — I pray, resolve 
 
 mo, sir. 
 Have not you and your mother had some s\ut 
 In law together lately ? 
 
 Rom. None, my lord. 
 
 Cris. No ! no contention about parting your 
 goods ! 
 
 Hum. Not any. 
 
 Cria. No flaw, no unkiiulness ? 
 
 Rom. None that over arriv'd at my knowledge. 
 
 Cris. Bethink yourself : this conuut choose but 
 savour 
 Of a woman'rt malice deojily ; and I fear 
 You're practis'd ujion most devilishly. — How 
 
 happ'd, 
 Ooutli'woiimn, you roveal'd this no sooner ! 
 
 Leon. Wiiilo my husband liv'd, my lord, I durst 
 nut. 
 
 Cris. I nhould nither ask you why you reveal 
 it now ? 
 
 is: 
 
SCEXE II. 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 135 
 
 Leon. Because, my lord, I loath'd that such 
 a sia 
 Should lie smother'd with me iu my grave : my 
 
 penitence, 
 Though to my shame, prefers the revealing of it 
 'Bove worldly reputation. 
 Oris. Your penitence ! 
 Might not your penitence have been as hearty, 
 Though it had never summon'd to the court 
 Such a conflux of people ? 
 
 Leon. Indeed, I might have confess'd it 
 privately 
 To the church, I grant ; but you know repentance 
 Is nothing without satisfaction. 
 
 Oris. Satisfaction ! why, your husband's dead : 
 What satisfaction can you make him .' 
 
 Leon. The greatest satisfaction in the world, 
 my lord ; 
 To restore the land to the right heir, and that's 
 My daughter. 
 
 Oris. 0, she's straight begot, then. 
 Ario. Very well : may it please this honourable 
 court. 
 If he be a bastard, and must forfeit his land 
 
 for't, 
 She has prov'd herself a strumpet, and must lose 
 Her dower : let them go a begging together, 
 San. Who shall pay us om- fees, then ? 
 Oris. Most just. 
 
 Ario. You may see now what an old house 
 You are like to pull over your head, dame. 
 ^ Rom. Could I conceive this publication 
 I iGrew from a hearty penitence, I could bear 
 I My undoing the more patiently : but, my lord, 
 I There is no reason, as you said even now, 
 I To satisfy me but this suit of hers 
 
 Springs from a devilish^ maUce, and her pretence 
 Of a griev'd conscience and religion. 
 Like to the hon-id powder-treason in England, 
 Has a most bloody unnatural revenge 
 Hid under it. 0, the violences of women ! 
 Why, they are creatures made up and compoundec 
 Of all monsters, poisoned minerals, 
 \And sorcerous herbs that grow. 
 Ario. Are you angry yet 1 
 Bom. Would man* express a bad one, let him 
 forsake 
 All natural example, and compare 
 One to another : they have no more mercy 
 Thau ruinous fires in gi-eat tempests. 
 
 Ario. Take heed you do not crack your voice, 
 sh". 
 
 * man] The old copy "men." 
 
 Rom. Hard-hearted creatures, good for nothing 
 
 >- 
 
 But to wind dead bodies. 
 
 Ario. Yes, to weave seamiug-lace 
 With the bones of their husbands that were lon^ 
 
 since buried. 
 And curse them when they tangle. i 
 
 Rom. Yet why do I j 
 
 Take bastardy so distastefully, when i'the world 
 A many things that are essential parts 
 Of greatness are but by-slips, and are father'd j . i 
 On the wrong parties, / / ; 
 
 Preferment in the world a many times / 
 
 Basely begotten ? nay, I have observ'd 
 The immaculate justice of a poor man's cause, 
 In such a court as this, has not known whom 
 To call father, which way to direct itself 
 For compassion — but I forget my temper : 
 Only, that I may stop that lawyer's throat, 
 I do beseech the coui-t, and the whole world, 
 They will not think the baselier of me 
 For the vice of a mother ; for that woman's sin, 
 To which you all dare swear when it was done, 
 I would not give my consent. 
 
 Oris. Stay, here's an accusation, 
 But here's no proof. What was the Spaniard's name 
 You accuse of adultery ? 
 
 Contil. Don Crispiano, my lord. 
 
 Oris. "What part of Spain was he born in ? 
 
 Oontil. In Castile. 
 
 Jul. This may pi-ove my father. 
 
 San. And my master : my client's spoil'd, then. 
 
 Oris. I knew that Spaniard well : if you be a 
 bastard, 
 Such a man being yom- father, I dare vouch you 
 A gentleman : — and in that, Siguier Contilupo, 
 Your oratory went a little too far. 
 When do we name Don John of Austria, 
 The emperor's son, but with reverence ?- 
 And I have known in divers families 
 The bastards the greater spirits. But to the 
 
 purpose : 
 Wliat time was this gentleman begot 1 
 And be sure you lay your time right. 
 
 Ario. Now the metal comes to the touchstone, 
 
 Contil. In anno seventy-one, my lord. 
 
 Oris. Very well, seventy-one ; 
 The battle of Lepanto was fought in't ; 
 A most remarkable time, 'twill lie 
 For no man's pleasure : and what ^jroof is there. 
 More than the affirmation of the mother, 
 Of this cor^Doral dealing ? 
 
 Contil. The deposition 
 Of a waiting-woman serv'd her the same time. 
 
 
136 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASK 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Cfit. ^^^le^e ia she ? 
 
 ContiL "Where ia our solicitor with the waiting- 
 woman? 
 
 Ario. Room for the bag and baggage ! 
 
 <S^an. Here, my lord, ore tenut. 
 
 Cris. And what can you say, gentlewoman? 
 
 Il'iH. ricaso your lordship, I was the party that 
 dealt iu the business, and brought them together. 
 
 Cru. Well. 
 
 Win. And conveyed letters between them. 
 
 CrU. "Wiiat needed letters, when 'tis said he 
 lodf^ed in her house ? 
 
 Win. A running ballad now and then to her 
 Tiol, for he was never well but when he was 
 fiddling. 
 
 Crit. Speak to the purpose : did you ever know 
 them bed together ? 
 
 Win. No, my lord ; but I have brought him to 
 the bed-Bide. 
 
 Om. That was somewhat near to the business. 
 And, what, did you help him off with his shoes? 
 
 Win. Ho wore no shoes, an't please you, my 
 lord. 
 
 Crit. No I what, then, — pumps ] 
 
 Win. Neither. 
 
 Crit. Boots were not fit for his journey. 
 
 Win, He wore tennis-court woollen slippers, for 
 fear of creaking, sir, and making a noise, to wake 
 the rest o'tho house. 
 
 Crit. Well, and what did ho there in his tennis- 
 court woollen slippers ? 
 
 II I' ^'our lordship, r^uestion me ju 
 
 L cause is very foul: tho examiner 
 
 o'tho court WiM fain to get it out of mo alone i'the 
 counting house, 'cause ho would not spoil tho 
 youth o'tho office. 
 
 Ario. H. tc'h It lat teu spoon, and a long one, to 
 f i 
 
 • U*r/i a la/ten tjtoon and a long one, to/t<tl wUh the 
 derUr] LaUm uiuniui n kind of mixtxl inoUl, tlio corii- 
 pMltl.m of which hiM Iwcii viirl..ii»ly oxpUiiiod liy Icxi- 
 drifTBi'hi-iM. AcconJliiK to Mr. Halllwoll (Did. of Arch. 
 aiui I'ruv. U'ordi) It vory iiiiuh rciwmblixl brium in itH 
 IwUiru «n.| cl.rtir.— Wob«torallua««horo totho provorb; 
 " ' ' • I'JiiJf •|«<<«ii. tlint I'tiU Willi (lio iluvil." 
 
 '^ ociluto, which (ttlhcin uiKJii Hliiiko»i>«iiro 
 
 • ' - •• '-^ H"»t I" thr • • ' ' ,,„ rt-,K)iitcd 111 
 
 •c»cr»l book* : I now truio. i,o MS. v.iluiiio 
 
 %»h«rv It «r., ori«l..»lly ,! , collcctlou of 
 
 *'' ' • '""' ./"'«" l>y l/l-;«irniii{o. 8ir ItoKor'a 
 
 "' "'0 ll"lnli«ii M8H i);iii,'i. IMiit, MX. A. 
 
 ' ' r tu iiiio iif Itoli JuiiiHiii'* 
 
 ' ' "'"tf l>olii|{ III a <lo«|ia Ntiiily 
 
 u|>. hikI lukt liliii wliy liu 
 
 * ' ■• tiiith llci. (wyon lio) not I. but I 
 
 '• - » lf«»«l wlillo wimt aliuuht Iw tho 
 
 "" i« b«Uiw ujion uiy Uod-cUlld, luiil I 
 
 Win. I'd bo loth to be ignorant that way, for 
 I hope to maiTy a proctor, and take my pleasure 
 abroad at the commencements with him. 
 
 A rio. Come closer to the business. 
 
 Win. I will come as close as modesty will give 
 me leave. Truth is, every morning when he lay 
 with her, I made a caudle for him, by the appoint- 
 ment of my mistress, which ho would still refuse, 
 and call for small drink. 
 
 Cm. Small drink ! 
 
 AHo. For a julep? 
 
 Win. And said he was wondrous thirsty. 
 
 Cris. What's this to the purpose ? 
 
 Win. Most effectual, my lord- I have heard 
 them laugh together extremely, and the curtain- 
 rods fall from the tester of the bed : and he ne'er 
 came from her but he thrust money in my hand, 
 — and once, in truth, he would have had some 
 dealing with me, — which I took ; ho thought 
 'twould be the only way i'the world to make me 
 keep counsel the better. 
 
 San. That's a stinger : 'tis a good wench ; bo 
 not daunted. 
 
 Cris. Did you ever find the print of two in the 
 bed? 
 
 Win. What a question's that to be asked ! may 
 it please your lordship, 'tis to be thought ho lay 
 neai-er to her than so. 
 
 Cris. \Miat age are you of, gentlewoman ? 
 
 Win. About six-and-forty, my loixL 
 
 Cris. Anno seventy-one, 
 And liomelio is thirty-eight : by that reckoning, 
 You were a bawd at eight year old : now, verily, 
 You fell to tho tnido betimes. 
 
 San. There you're from tho bi:is. 
 
 Win. I do not know my ago directly ; sure, I 
 am elder : I can remember two great frosts, and 
 throe great plagues, and the loss of Calais, and 
 the first coming up of tho brooches with the great 
 codi>ieco; and I pray what age do you tiiko mo 
 of, then \ 
 
 San. Well como off agaui. 
 
 Ario. An old hiintod hai'o; 
 Sho has all her doubles. 
 
 Koni. For your own gravities. 
 And tho revorenco of tho court, I do beseech you, 
 Hip uji tho cause no further, but proceed 
 Tu aoutouco. 
 
 liBTO wiaolvcl fit huit ; I pry'tlio wlint. iinyes ho t 1 faith 
 licii rio o'eii k'vo liini n i1»/.(.'Ii ({<»h1 hittin $iHtoniii^ and 
 Ihmi almll Irmnilnt*) them." Af tho .-iid nf tlic vol. tho 
 writer (fivcg » li»t of IiIm iiuthoritloit. lYoiu which wo 
 Iciirn, thtil tho nlory Jiwt iiuotcd wim told to him by 
 " Dim" (DuiinoT). 
 
SCENE ir. 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 13^ 
 
 Oris. One question more, and I have done : 
 Might not this Crispiano, this Sj^aniard, 
 Lie with your mistress at some other time, 
 Either afore or after, than i'the absence 
 Of her husband ? 
 
 Leon. Never. 
 
 Cris. Are you certain of that ? 
 
 Leon. On my soul, never. 
 
 Cris. That's well, he never lay with her 
 But in anno seventy-one ; let that be remember'd. — 
 Stand you aside awhile. — Mistress, the truth is, 
 I knew this CrisiJiano, liv'd in Naples 
 At the same time, and lov'd the gentleman 
 As my bosom friend ; and, as I do remember, 
 The gentleman did leave his picture with you. 
 If age or neglect have not in so long time 
 Ruin'd it. 
 
 Leon. I preserve it still, my lord. 
 
 Cris. I pray, let me see't ; let me see the face 
 I then lov'd so much to look on. 
 
 Leon. Fetch it. 
 
 Win. I shall, my lord. 
 
 Cris. No, no, gentlewoman, 
 I have other business for you. 
 
 {Exit one for the picture. 
 
 First Sur. Now were the time to cut Romelio's 
 throat, 
 And accuse him for your murder. 
 
 Con. By no means. 
 
 Second Sur. Will you not let us be men of 
 fashion. 
 And down with him now he's going ? 
 
 Con. Peace ; let's attend the sequel. 
 
 Cris. I commend you, lady ; 
 There was a main matter of conscience. 
 How many ills spring from adultery ! 
 First, the supreme law that is violated, 
 Nobility oft stain'd with bastardy, 
 Inheritance of land falsely possess'd, 
 The husband scorn'd, wife sham'd, and babes 
 unblest. [The picture is brought in. 
 
 So, hang it up i'the court. — You have heard 
 What has been urg'd against Romelio : 
 Now my definitive sentence in this cause 
 Is, I will give no sentence at all. 
 
 Ario. No? 
 
 Cris. No, I cannot, for I am made a party. 
 
 San. How, a party ! here are fine cross tricks. 
 What the devil will he do now ! 
 
 Cris. Signior Ariosto, his majesty of Spain 
 Confers my place upon you by this patent, 
 Which till this ui-gent hour I have kept 
 From your knowledge : may you thrive iu't, noble 
 sir. 
 
 And do that which but few in our place do, — 
 Go to their grave uncurs'd. 
 
 Ario. This law-business 
 Will leave me so small leisure to serve God, 
 I shall serve the king the worse. 
 
 San. Is he a judge? 
 We must, then, look for all conscience, and no law : 
 He'll beggar all his followers. 
 
 Cris. Sir, 
 I am of your counsel, for the cause in hand 
 Was begun at such a time 'fore you could speak ; 
 You had need therefore have one speak for you. 
 
 Ario. Stay; I do here first make protestation, 
 I ne'er took fee of this Romelio 
 For being of his counsel ; which may free me. 
 Being now his judge, for the imputation 
 Of taking a bribe. Now, sir, speak your mind. 
 
 Cris. I do first entreat that the eyes of all here 
 present 
 May be fix'd vipou this. 
 
 Leon. 0, I am confounded ! this is Crispiano. 
 
 Jul. This is my father : how the judges have 
 bleated him ! 
 
 Win. You may see truth will out in spite of the 
 devil. 
 
 Cris. Behold, I am the shadow of this shadow; 
 Age has made me so : take from me forty years, 
 And I was such a summer-fruit as this, 
 At least the painter feign'd so ; for, indeed, 
 Painting and epitaphs are both alike, — 
 They flatter us, and say we have been thus. 
 But I am the party here that stands accus'd 
 For adultery with this woman, in the year 
 Seventy-one : now I call you, my lord, to witness. 
 Four years before that time I went to the Indies, 
 And till this month did never set my foot since 
 In Europe ; and for any former incontinence. 
 She has vow'd there was never any: what remains, 
 
 then, 
 But this is a mere practice * 'gainst her son ? 
 And I beseech the court it may be sifted. 
 And most severely punish'd. 
 
 /Saw^ Ud'sfopfc, we are spoil'd : 
 AVhy, my client's prov'd an honest woman. , 
 
 Win. What do you think will become of me 
 now] 
 
 San. You'll be made dance Lacrymw,f I fear, at a 
 cart's tail. 
 
 * practice] See note *, p. 117. 
 
 t dance Lacrymce'] One of the allusions, so frequent in 
 our old dramatists, to a musical work by John Dowland, 
 the famous lutanist, " the rarest musician" according to 
 A. Wood, {Fasti Oxon. Part I. p. 242, ed. Bliss,) " that his 
 nge did behold :" it is dedicated to Anne, the Queen of 
 James I. and entitled Lacrima:, or seaven Tea,res Jic/ured •■« 
 
138 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASK 
 
 Acrc IV. 
 
 Ario- You, mistresa, where are you now ? 
 Your tennis-court slippers • and your ta'en driuk 
 In a morning for your hot liver? where'a the man 
 Would have had some dealing with you, that you 
 might 
 j Keep counsel the better ? 
 
 I Win. May it plca.se the court, I am but a young 
 
 thing, and was drawn arsy-varsy into the business. 
 
 Ario. Howyounjj? of five-aud-forty / 
 
 H7n. Five-and-forty ! an shall please you, I am 
 
 not five-and-twenty: she made me colour my hair 
 
 with bean flower, to seem elder than I was ; and 
 
 then my rotten teeth, with eating sweet-meats, — 
 
 I why, should a farrier look in my moutb, he might 
 
 mistako my age. — mistress, mistress, you are 
 
 an honest woman; and you may be ashamed on't, 
 
 to abuse the court thus ! 
 
 Lton. Whatso'er I have attempted 
 'Gainst my own fame or the reputation 
 Of that gentleman my son, the Lord Contariuo 
 Was cause of it. 
 
 Con. [atidc]. Who, I ? 
 
 Ario. Ho that should have married your 
 ] daughter ? 
 
 I It was a plot belike, then, to confer 
 The land on her that should have been his wife. 
 
 Leon. More than I have said already all the world 
 Sliall ne'er extract from mo : — I entreat from both 
 Your e«jual pardons. 
 Jul. And I from you, sir. 
 CVu. Simili, stiind you aside; 
 I will talk with you hereafter. 
 
 Jui. I could never away with + after-reckonings. 
 Leon. And now, my lords, I do most voluntarily 
 Confine myself unto a stricter prison 
 And a severer penance tlian tliiu court 
 Cull impose; I am enter'd into religion. 
 
 CW. [(uide]. I the cause of this imictico ! this 
 ungodly woman 
 IIus Hold herself to falsehood : I will now 
 Ilvveal myself. 
 
 £rco, [coming from l/u clo$el]. St4iy, my lord ; 
 horu's a window 
 Tu lot in nioru light tu tiio court. 
 
 Von. [(uitlt]. Mercy upon me I 0, that thou art 
 I living,', 
 
 I» moroy indued ! 
 
 I'lrttSur. Stay; koopin yoiii n1i. 11 i Utilolonger. 
 I Jireo. I am Kroolo. 
 
 him for the death of 
 
 |M«n«<Ml« 
 
 /'niuiM, triih ilirtri otXrr Pauami, 
 "X'U, ttt forth /or (A« Intf, VloU, or 
 
 I fo|>y "tiifu; 
 I tntU0 .iUA] i, «. •udtiK.-. 
 
 I'Ul *oa |i. 13(1. 
 
 Ario. A guard upon 
 Contarino ! 
 
 Erco. I obey the arrest o'the court. 
 
 Jiom. 0, sir, you are happily restor'd to life 
 And to us your friends ! 
 
 Erco. Away ! thou art the traitor 
 I only live to challenge : this former suit 
 Touch'd but thy fame ; this accusation 
 Reaches to thy fame and life. The brave Contarino 
 Is generally suppos'd slain by this hand, — 
 
 Con. [aside]. How knows he the contrary ( 
 
 Erco. But truth is, 
 Having receiv'd from me some certain wounds 
 Which were not mortal, this vile murderer. 
 Being by will deputed overseer 
 Of the nobleman's estate to his sister's use, 
 That he might make him sure from* surviving 
 To revoke that will, stole to him in his bed 
 And kill'd him. 
 
 Mom. Strange, unheard of! more practice yet ! 
 
 Ario. What proof of this ! 
 
 Erco. The repoi-t of his mother deliver'd to me, 
 In distraction for Contarino's death. 
 
 Con. [aside]. For my death 1 1 begin to apprehend 
 That the violence of this woman's love to me 
 Might practise the disinheriting of her son. 
 
 Ario. What say you to this, Leonora ! 
 
 Leon. Such a thing 
 I did utter out of my distraction : 
 But how the court will censure that report, 
 I leave to their wisdoms. 
 
 Ario. My opinion is. 
 That this late slander ui-g'd against her son 
 Takes from her all manner of credit : she 
 That would not stick to deprive him of his living 
 Will as little tender his life. 
 
 Leon, I beseech the court 
 I may retire myself to my place of penance 
 I have vow'd myself and my woman. 
 
 Ario. Go when you please. 
 
 l/uriiii< Leonoua, ami Winikiikp. 
 What should move you bo 
 Thus forwai-d in the accusation] 
 
 Erco. My love to Contarino. 
 
 Ario. 0, it boro 
 Very bitter fruit at your last meeting. 
 
 Erco. 'Tis true : but I bt-gun to love him when 
 I hud most cause to hate him ; when our bloods 
 Kmbnic'd each other, then I pitied 
 Tliat so much valour should bo hazarded 
 On tlie fortune of n singlo rapier, 
 And not spent against tho T\irk. 
 
 Ario. SUiy, sir, bo well advis'd; 
 
 • /rom\ luaomo of Uio old copies litis woi-d Is omlllcd. 
 
SCENE I. 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 139 
 
 There is no testimony but your own 
 
 To approve you slew him; therefore no other way 
 
 To decide it but by duel. 
 
 Con. Yes, my lord, I dare affiiTa, 'gainst all the 
 world, 
 This nobleman speaks truth. 
 
 A rio. You will make yourself a party in the duel. 
 
 Mom. Let him; I will fight with them both, six- 
 teen of them. 
 
 Erco. Su', I do not know you. 
 
 Con. Yes, but you have forgot me ; you and I 
 Have sweat in the breach together at Malta. 
 
 Frco. Cry you mercy ; I have known of your 
 nation 
 Brave soldiers. 
 
 Jul. [aside]. Xow, if my father 
 Have any true spirit in him, I'll recover 
 His good opinion. — Do you hear ? do not swear, sir, 
 For I dare swear that you will swear a he, 
 A very filthy, stinking, rotten lie ; 
 And if the lawyers think not this sufficient, 
 I'll give the lie in the stomach, — 
 That's somewhat deeper than the thi-oat, — 
 Both here, and all Fi-ance over and over. 
 From Marseilles or Bayoune to Calais' sands. 
 And there draw my sword upon thee, and new 
 
 scour it 
 In the gravel of thy kidneys. 
 
 Alio. You the defendant 
 Charg'd with the murder, and you second there, 
 
 Must be committed to the custody 
 
 Of the Knight-Mai-shal; — and the com-t gives 
 
 charge 
 They be to-mori-ow ready in the lists 
 Before the sun be risen. 
 
 Horn. I do entreat the court there be a guard 
 Plac'd o'er my sister, that she enter not 
 Into religion : she's rich, my lords. 
 And the persuasions of friars, to gain 
 All her possessions to their monasteries. 
 May do much upon her. 
 
 Ario. We'll take order for her. 
 
 Cris. There is a nun too you have got with child : 
 How will you dispose of her ] 
 
 Jiom. You question me as if I were grav'd 
 already : 
 When I have quench'd this wild-fire in Ercole's 
 Tame blood, I'll tell you. [Ezii. 
 
 I £)co. You have judg'd to-day 
 A most confused practice, that takes end 
 In as bloody a trial ; and we may observe 
 By these great persons, and theu' indirect 
 Proceedings, shadow'd in a veil of state, 
 
 L Mountains are deform'd heaps, swell'd up aloft, 
 Vales wholesomer, though lower and trod on oft. 
 
 San. Well, I will put up my papers. 
 And send them to France for a precedent. 
 That they may not say yet, but for one strange 
 
 law-suit 
 We come somewhat near them. [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT Y. 
 
 SCENE L* 
 
 Enter Jolexta, and Akgiolella great-bellied. 
 
 Jol. How dost thou, friend ? welcome : thou 
 and I 
 Were play-feUows together, httle children, 
 So small a while ago, that, I presume. 
 We are neither of us wise yet. 
 
 Angio. A most sad truth on my part. 
 
 Jol. Why do you pluck your veil 
 Over your face ? 
 
 Angio. If you will believe tinith. 
 There's naught more terrible to a guilty heart 
 Thanf the eye of a respected friend. 
 
 Jol. Say, friend. 
 Are you quick with child 1 
 
 Angio. Too sure. 
 
 Jol. How could you know first * 
 Of your child when you quicken'd ? 
 
 Angio. How could you know, friend ! 
 'Tis reported you are in the same taking. 
 
 Jol. Ha, ha, ha ! so 'tis given out ; 
 But Ercole's coming to life again has shiomk 
 And made invisible my great belly ; yes, faith, 
 My being with child was merely in supposition. 
 Not practice. 
 
 A ngio. You are happy : what would I give 
 To be a maid again ! 
 
 Jol. Would you 1 to what purpose ? 
 I would never give great purchase for that thing 
 Is in danger every hour to be lost. Pray thee, 
 
 laugh : 
 A boy or a girl, for a wager 1 
 
 * Scene /.] A room in the house of Leonura. 
 t Tlian] The old copy "4«." 
 
 O/yoM/-] The old copy " Of your first." 
 
140 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Angio. What heaven pleaae. 
 
 JoL Nay, nay, will you venture 
 A chain of pearl with me, whether? 
 
 Angio. I'll lay nothing ; 
 I have ventur'd too much for't already, my fame. 
 I make no (juestion. Bister, you have heard 
 Of the intended combat 
 
 Jol. 0, what elfio ? 
 I have a sweetheart in't against a brotlier. 
 
 Angio. And I a dead friend, I fear : what good 
 couunel 
 Ciui you minister unto me? 
 
 Jol. Faith, only this ; 
 Since there's no means i'the world to hinder it. 
 Let thou and I, wench, get aa far as we can 
 From the noise of it. 
 
 Angio. Whither? 
 
 Jol. No matter, any whither. 
 
 Angio. Any whither, so you go not by sea : 
 I cannot abide rough * water. 
 
 Jol. Not endure to bo tumbled ? say no more, 
 then ; 
 We'll be land-soldiers for that trick: take heai't, 
 Tliy boy shall be born a brave lloman. 
 
 A ngio. O, you mean 
 To go to Rome, then. 
 
 JoL Within there ! 
 
 EuUr a Sorvaut. 
 
 Bear this letter 
 To the Lord Ercole. [Exit Servant with letter.] 
 Now, wench, I am for thee, 
 All the world over. 
 Angio. I, like your shade, pursue you- 
 
 {Sjifunt. 
 
 SCENE II.+ 
 BnUr PnoiirKKo an<l Banitonklla. 
 
 I'roM. Well, I do not think but to see you as 
 I>rctty n pioco of lawfloHh ! 
 
 ."an. In time I may : marry, I am resolved to 
 lako u new woy fur't You have luwyeiu take 
 their cliuntM* fees, and their bucks nro no sooner 
 tumod but they tudl tliem foolH, luid laugh at them. 
 
 Pro$. TItat'u ill done of them. 
 
 !<an. There'* ono thing too that law u vile abuse 
 in't. 
 
 J'rot. Whafttthatl 
 
 San. Mnrry, thi«,— that no proctor in tho term- 
 '•' • '• ' !■ ' i' I to go to the tavern above aix 
 
 '■ "1 II, .■ I,,i, n.M.n. 
 
 • mil] fk4iM or Uio old oo|>Im "tatl." 
 
 t ^' < //.] An aiivtmeut lu UmIoI Nuovo. 
 
 Pros. Why, man ? 
 
 San. 0, sir, it makes their clients ovei-taken, 
 and become friends sooner than they would be. 
 
 Enter Ercole vUh a letter, and Co.staeiko, eommg in 
 friars' liabitf, as having Ixen at tlit Balltanitct, a 
 ceremony xuid a/ore these combats. 
 
 Erco. Leave the room, gentlemen. 
 
 [Ex(unt Sanit. and Pros. 
 
 Con. [aside]. Wherefore should I with such an 
 obstinacy 
 Conceal myself any longer? I am taught. 
 That all the blood which will be shed to-morrow 
 Must fall upon my head : one question 
 Shall fix it or untie it. — Noble brother, 
 I would faiu know how it is possible. 
 When it appeare you love the fair Jolcnta 
 With such a height of fervor you were ready 
 To father another's child and man-y her. 
 You would so suddenly engage yourself 
 To kill her brother, one that ever stood 
 Your loyal and firm friend ? 
 
 Erco. Sir, I'll tell you ; 
 My love, as I have foimerly protested. 
 To Contarino, whoso unfortunate end 
 The traitor wrought : and here is one thing more 
 Deads all good thoughts of him, which I now 
 
 rcceiv'd 
 From Joleuta. 
 
 Con. In a letter? 
 
 Erco. Yes, in this letter ; 
 For, having sent to her to bo rcsolv'd 
 Jlost truly who was father of the child. 
 She writes back that the shame she goes withal 
 Was begot by her brother. 
 
 Con. most incestuous vilhiin I 
 
 Erco. I protest, 
 Before I thought 'twas Contarino's issue, 
 And for that would have vcil'd her dishonour. 
 
 Con. No more. 
 Has tho armorer brought the weapons ? 
 
 Erco. Yes, sir. 
 
 Con. I will no more think of her. 
 
 Erco. Of whom ? 
 
 Con. Of my mother, — I was thinking of my 
 mother. 
 Call tho armorer. [E.vcMnt. 
 
 SCENE I1I.« 
 
 Eixtcr Flint Hurgoon, and WlS'iriiKD. 
 ir»M. You do love uic, sir, you say ? 
 First Sur. 0, most entirely I 
 
 * Sctnt III I A rouiu in tho liouso of Lcouora. 
 
SCEXB V. 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 141 
 
 Win. And you will marry me ? 
 
 First Sur. Nay, I'll do more than that : \ 
 
 The fashion of the world is many times i 
 
 To make a woman naught, and afterwards j. 
 To marry her ; but I, o'the contrary, \ 
 
 Will make you honest fii-st, and afterwards 
 Proceed to the wedlock. 
 
 Win. Honest ! what mean you by that? 
 
 First Sur. I mean, that yaur suborning the 
 late law-suit 
 Has got you a filthy report : now, there's no way, 
 But to do some excellent piece of honesty, 
 To recover your good name. 
 
 Win. How, sir ? 
 
 First Sur. You shall straight go and reveal to 
 your old mistress. 
 For certain truth, Contarino is alive. 
 
 Win. How, living ! 
 
 First Sur. Yes, he is living. 
 
 Win. No, I must not tell her of it. 
 
 First Sur. No ! why ] 
 
 Win. For she did bind me yesterday by oath 
 Never more to speak of him. 
 
 First Sur. You shall reveal it, then, 
 To Ariosto the judge. 
 
 Win. By no means ; he has heard me tell 
 So many lies i'the court, he'll ne'er believe me. 
 What if I told it to the Capuchin ? 
 
 First Sur. You cannot 
 Think of a better ; as for* your young mistress, 
 Who, as you told me, has persuaded you 
 To run away with her, let her have her humour. 
 I have a suit Romelio left i'the house. 
 The habit of a Jew, that I'll put on, 
 And pretending I am robb'd, by break of day, 
 Procure all passengers to be brought back, 
 And by the way i-eveal myself, and discover 
 The comical event. They say she's a little mat! ; 
 This will help to cure her. Go, go presently. 
 And reveal it to the Capuchia. 
 
 Win. Sir, I shall. [Kveun!. 
 
 w" 
 
 / 
 
 SCENE IV.t 
 ^nter Julio, Prospeeo, awl Sanitonella. 
 Jul. A pox on't, 
 I have undertaken the challenge very foolishly 
 What if I do not appear to answer it ?- 
 
 Pro. It would be absolute conviction 
 Of cowardice and perjury; and the Dane 
 May to your public shame reverse your arms, 
 
 * as for\ The old copy "for as." 
 
 t Scene /K] An apartment in Castel Nuovo. 
 
 Or have them ignominiously fasten' d 
 Under his horse-tail. 
 
 Jul. I do not like that so well, 
 I see, then, I must fight, whether I will or no. 
 
 Pros. How does Romelio bear himself ? They say 
 He has almost braia'd one of our cunning'st 
 
 fencers 
 That practis'd with him, 
 
 Jul. Very certain : and now you talk of fencing. 
 Do not you remember the Welsh gentleman 
 That was travelling to Rome upon return ? 
 
 Pros. No : what of him ? 
 
 Jul. There was a strange experiment of a fencer. 
 
 Pros. What was that 1 
 
 Jul. The Welshman in's play, do what the 
 fencer could, 
 Hung still an arse ; he could not for his life 
 Make him come on bravely; till one night at 
 
 supper, 
 Observing what a deal of Parma-cheese 
 His scholar devour'd, goes ingeniously 
 The next morning and makes a spacious button 
 For his foil of toasted cheese; and, as sure as 
 
 you live. 
 That made him come on the braveliest, 
 
 P?-os. Possible ? 
 
 Jul. Marry, it taught him an Ul grace in's play. 
 It made him gape still, gape as he put in for't. 
 As I have seen some hungry usher. 
 
 San. The toasting of it belike 
 Was to make it more supple, had he chanc'd 
 To have hit him o'the chaps. 
 
 Jul. Not unlikely. "\Mio can tell me 
 If we may breathe in the duel ? 
 
 Pros. By no means. 
 
 Jul. Nor drink ? 
 
 Pros. Neither. 
 
 Jul. That's scurvy; anger will make me very 
 dry. 
 
 Pi-os. You mistake, sir ; 'tis sorrow that is ^■cry 
 dry. 
 
 San, Not always, sir; I have known sorrow 
 veiy wet. 
 
 Jul. In rainy weather ? 
 
 San. No; when a woman has come dropping wet 
 Out of a cucking-stool. 
 
 Jul. Then 'twas wet indeed, sir. 
 
 Eiiter Romelio ver>/ melancholij ; and then the CapucMn. 
 Cap. [aside]. Having from Leonora's waitiug- 
 woman 
 Deliver'd a most strange intelligence 
 Of Contarino's recovery, I am come 
 To sound Romelio's penitence ; that perform'd. 
 
142 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 To end these errors by discovering 
 
 What she related to me. — Peace to you, sir ! 
 
 [ To ROMELIO. 
 
 Pray, gentlemen, let the freedom of this room 
 Be mine a little. — Nay, sir, you may stay. 
 
 [ToJvuo. 
 [Exevtit PnosPEKO aiul Sanitonella. 
 Will you pr.iy with me ? 
 
 Horn. No, nu, the world and I 
 Have not made up our accounts yet. 
 
 Cap. Shall I pray for you? 
 
 Rom. Whether you do or no, I care not. 
 
 Cap. 0, you have a dangerous voyage to take ! 
 
 Rom. No matter, I will be mine own pilot: 
 Do not you trouble your head with the business. 
 
 Cap. Pray, tell rnc, do not you meditate of death? 
 
 Rom. Phew, I took out that lesson, 
 Wlieu I once lay sick of an ague : I do now 
 Labour for life, for life. Sir, can you tell me, 
 Whether your Toledo or your Milan blade 
 Bo best tempcr'd ? 
 
 Cap. These things, you know. 
 Are out of my practice. 
 
 Rom. But these are things, you know, 
 I must practise with to-morrow. 
 
 Cap. Were I in your case, 
 I Hhould present to myself strange shadows. 
 
 JiOin. Turn you, — were I in your ca.'5e,I should 
 luu;,'Il 
 At mine own shadow. Who has hirJsd you 
 To make mo coward / 
 
 Cap. I would make you a good Christian. 
 
 Rom. Withal let mo continue 
 An honest man ; which I am very certain 
 A coward can never be. You take upon you 
 A physician's place, nither than a divine's : 
 You go about to bring my body ho luw, 
 I Hhould fight i'tho lists to-morrow like a dor- 
 Aud bo mmlo away in a slumber. [mouse, 
 
 Cap. Did you murder Contarino ? 
 
 Rom. Tliat's a scurvy question now. 
 
 Cap. Wliy, KJr f 
 
 /torn. Did you ank it iw a confessor or as a spy > 
 
 Cap. Am one that fiiiajvould jmtle tha dovil 
 Out of your way. «..— - 
 
 Rom. Uu), you an but wenkly made for't : 
 Ho'i K cuiinhig wroatlor, 1 can tuU you, and hax 
 
 lr<iko 
 Mniiy B jiKin'g nock. 
 
 Cap. But to Kivo him llu' foil 
 (itK-n not by ulrtuiKth. 
 
 Rom. Lot ilj;o by wlmt it will. 
 Ofl mo K.Mn« ,,-.,.k| vlttuttlM to broakfftiit, I nm 
 hungry. 
 
 Cap. Here's food for you. [Offering him a book. 
 
 Rom. Phew, I am not to commence doctor; 
 For then the word,* " Devour that book," were 
 
 proper. 
 I am to fight, to fight, sir ; and 111 do't. 
 As I would feed, with a good stomach. 
 
 Cap. Can you feed, 
 And apprehend death ? 
 
 Rom. ^Vhy, sir, is not death 
 A hungry companion ? say, is not the grave 
 Said to be a gieat devourer? Get me some victuals: 
 I knew a man that was to lose his head 
 Feed with an excellent good appetite, 
 To strengthen his heart, scarce half an hour 
 
 before ; 
 And if he did it that only was to speak, 
 What should I that am to do ? 
 
 Cap. This confidence. 
 If it be gi-ounded upon truth, 'tis well. 
 
 Rom. You must understand that resolution 
 Should ever wait upon a noble death. 
 As captains bring their soldiers out o'the field. 
 And come off last ; for, I pray, what is death ! 
 The safest trench i'the world to keep man free 
 From fortune's gunshot : to be afraid of that, 
 Would prove me weaker than a teeming woman, 
 I That does endure a thousand times more pain 
 lu bearing of a child. 
 / Cap. 0, I tremble for you ! 
 I For I do know you have a storm within you 
 More terrible than a sea-fight, and, your soul 
 Being heretofore drown'd in security, 
 You know not how to live nor how to die : 
 But I have an object that shall startle you, 
 And make you know whither you are going. 
 
 RoDL I am arm'd for't 
 
 ^ii<<T LKcis'iinA, irilh lirocfifRns borne hi/ her mri-anU, auit 
 tico winiting-therts ttucL- withjlmcer$; prt»ml$ ont to 
 lirr Hon, imU the other to Julio. 
 
 'Tia very welcome ; this is a docont garment 
 
 Will never be out of fashion : I will kiss it,— 
 
 All the flowers of the spring 
 
 Meet to perfume our burying : 
 
 These have but their growing prime ; 
 
 And man does flourish but his time : 
 
 Survey our progress from our birth ; 
 
 Wo are set, wo grow, wo turn to earth. 
 
 Courts adimi, and all delights, [Sufi mutic. 
 
 .Ml bewitching appetites I 
 
 Swootcst broatji, and clear est oy o, 
 
 '•ik« i'vrfMniP"* SO put and die; 
 
 • the Kont] Boo note Si p. IC 
 
SCENE V. 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 143 
 
 And consequently this is done' 
 
 As shadows wait upon the sun. 
 
 Vain the ambition of kings, 
 
 Who seek by trophies and dead things 
 
 To leave a living name behind, 
 
 And weave but nets to catch the wind. — 
 
 0, you have wrought a miracle, and melted 
 
 A heart of adamant ! you have compris'd 
 
 In this dumb pageant a right excellent form 
 
 Of penitence. 
 
 Cap. I am glad you so receive it. 
 
 Rom. This object does persuade me to forgive 
 The wrong she has done me, which I covmt the way 
 To be forgiven yonder ; and this shrowd 
 Shows me how rankly we do smell of earth, 
 When we are in all our glory. — Will it please you 
 
 [To Leonora. 
 
 Enter that closet, where I shall confer 
 . 'Bout matters of most weighty consequence, 
 ^Before the duel 1 [Exit Leonora into the closet. 
 Jul. Now I am right in the bandoleer for the 
 gallows. 
 What a scurvy fashion "tis, to hang one's coflSn in 
 a scarf ! 
 Cap. Why, this is well : 
 And now that I have made you fit for death, 
 And brought you even a.s low as is the grave, 
 I will raise you up again, speak comforts to you 
 Beyond your hopes, turn this intended duel 
 To a triumph. 
 
 Rom. More divinity yet ! 
 Good sir, do one thing first : there's in my closet 
 A prayer-book that is cover'd with gilt vellum ; 
 Fetch it ; and, pray you, certify my mother 
 I'll presently come to her. 
 
 [Exit the Capuchin into the closet, the door of 
 ichich ROMELIO locks. 
 
 So now you are safe. 
 Jul. What have you done 1 
 Rom. Why, I have lock'd them up 
 Into a turret of the castle, safe enough 
 For troubling us this four hom'S : an he please, 
 He may open a casement, and whistle out to 
 
 the sea 
 Like a boatswain ; not any creature can hear him. 
 Was't not thou a- weary of his preaching ? 
 
 Jid. Yes, if he had had an hour-glass by him, 
 I would have wish'd him he would have jogg'd 
 
 it a little. 
 But your mother, your mother's lock'd in too. 
 
 Rom. So much the better ; 
 I am rid of her howling at parting. 
 
 Jul. Hark ! he knocks to be let out, an he 
 were mad. 
 
 Rom. Let him knock tUl his sandals fly in pieces. 
 
 Jul. Ha ! what says he ? Contarino living ! 
 
 Rom. A.J, ay. 
 He means he would have Contarino's living 
 Bestow'd upon his monastery ; 'tis that 
 He only fishes for. So, 'tis break of day ; 
 We shall be call'd to the combat presently. 
 
 Jul. I am sorry for one thing. 
 
 Rom. What's that 1 
 
 Jul. That I made not mine own ballad : I do fear 
 I shall be roguishly abus'd in metre. 
 If I miscarry. Well, if the young Capuchin 
 Do not talk o'the flesh as fast now to your mother 
 As he did to us o'the spirit ! If he do, 
 'Tis not the first time that the prison royal 
 Has been guilty of close committing. 
 
 Rom. Now to the combat. [Exeunt. 
 
 r. 
 
 SCENE v.* 
 
 Eatir CxFzcnvs and Leonora, o.hove, t at a tcindmr. 
 
 Leon. Contarino living ! 
 
 Cap. Yes, madam, he is living, and Ercole's 
 second. 
 I Leon. "V\Tiy has he lock'd us \ip thus ? 
 
 Cap. Some evil angel 
 Makes him deaf to his own safety : we are shut 
 Into a turret, the most desolate prison 
 Of all the castle ; and his obstinacy. 
 Madness, or secret fate, has thus prevented 
 l_The saving of his life. ' 
 
 Leon. 0, the saving Contaiino's ! 
 His is worth nothing. For heaven's sake, call 
 louder. 
 
 Cap. To little purpose. 
 
 Leon. I will leap these battlements ; 
 And may I be found dead time J enough 
 To hinder the combat ! 
 
 Cap. 0, look upwards rather : 
 Their deliverance must come thence. To see how 
 
 heaven 
 Can invert man's firmest purpose ! His intent 
 Of murdering Contarino was a mean 
 To work his safety ; and my coming hither 
 To save him is his ruin : wretches turn 
 The tide of their good fortune, and being drcnch'd 
 In some presumptuous and hidden sins. 
 While they aspire to do themselves most right. 
 The devil, that rules i'the air §, Jiangs in their light. 
 
 [Th 
 
 * Scene V.' Before Castel Nuovo. 
 t ahove\ See note * \i. 100. 
 
 ♦ timel Qy. "in time'"! But the versification of this 
 play is in many places wretched. 
 
 § Tk^ devil, that rules i' the air, &c.] Sec note t, P- 67. 
 
144 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASK 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Leon. 0, they must not be lost thus ! Some good 
 Christian 
 Come within our hearing ! Ope the other case- 
 ment 
 That looks into the city. 
 
 Cap. Madam, I shall. [ExevaU. 
 
 SCENE vr. 
 
 Tht UdM Id up. Enter tht Marshal, CniHPiANo, and 
 AniORTO, vho taLe their seaU as Jwlges ; and 
 SANrroxsLLA. 
 
 Mar. Give the appellant bis summons; do the 
 like 
 To the defendant. 
 
 Ttto tuektti by gereral Irumpeli. Enter, at one door, Ercole 
 and CuNTARiNo; at tlie other, Romelio and JVLio. 
 
 Can any of you allege aught why the combat 
 Should not proceed ! 
 
 ComlatanU. Nothing. 
 
 Ario. Have tho knights weigh'd, 
 And mea.sur'd their weapons ? 
 
 Mar. They have. 
 
 Ario. Proceed, then, to the battle, and may 
 heaven 
 Detcnninc the right ! 
 
 Herald. Soil la battaile, et vicloire tl ceiLv qui 
 otil droit/ 
 
 Rom. Stay ! I do not well know whither I am 
 going ; 
 'Twero needful therefore, though at the la.st gasp, 
 To huvo Homo church-uiau's i)raycr. — Run, I pniy 
 
 thee, 
 To Cawtc'i Nuovo* : this key will ruleiuso 
 A Ciijmchin and my motlier, whom I shut 
 Into a turret; bid himt make hawto and pray; 
 1 niiiy bo dead ere ho comes. [Exit an Attendant. 
 Now, Vicloire A ceux qui ont droit/ 
 
 All tilt Champ. Vicloire d ceux qui out droit/ 
 
 n< coinbal U continufj to a t/ood length, when enter 
 UutttonA and the Cai'I'cuin. 
 
 Aem. Hold, hold, for heavon'a take, hold I 
 
 Ario. Wlutaru tlicao that interrupt tho combat ' 
 Away to pri»..ij with them I 
 
 Cap. Wo liavu boon prinoiicrH too long.— 
 O, nir, what uioau youl CoutariuoH living. 
 
 AVco. Living! 
 
 Cap. ISohuld him living. 
 
 • OufW Mmm| OocMwrnlnff " Uto CuUl Nu«ti.. kii 
 
 r.- ■ • " 'iUh omUo, of enurraotu itlmeiutoiiii," acu 
 
 <tl, ttwioi, and lMi(fiou». Uy Lord //'••••, 
 
 r 
 
 Erco. You were but now my second ; now I 
 make you 
 ilyself for ever. 
 
 Leon. 0, here's one between 
 Claims to be nearer. 
 
 Con. And to you, dear lady, 
 I have entirely vow'd my life. 
 
 liom. If I do not 
 Dream, I am happy too. 
 
 Ario- How insolently 
 Haa this high Court of Honour been abus'd ! 
 
 Enter Angiolella veiled, and Jolenta, her /aee coloured 
 liix a Moor: the two Surgeons, one of them lU-e a Jew. 
 
 How now ! who are these 1 
 
 Sec. Sur. A couple of strange fowl, and I tho 
 falconer 
 That have sprung them : this is a white nun 
 Of the order of Saint Clare; and this a black one; 
 You'll take my word for't. [Discovers Jolenta. 
 
 Ario. She's a black one, indeed. 
 
 Jol. Like or dislike mc, choose you whether : 
 The down upon the raven's feather 
 Is as gentle and as sleek 
 As tho mole on Venus' cheek. 
 Hence, vain show ! I only care 
 To preserve my soul most fair • 
 Never mind the outward skin, 
 But the jewel that's within ; 
 And though I want the crimson blood. 
 Angels boast my sisterhood. 
 Wliich of us now judge you whiter? * 
 
 Her whose credit proves tho lighter. 
 Or this black and ebon hue, 
 Tliat, unstaiu'd, keeps fresh and true 1 
 l''or I proclaim't without control, 
 There's no true beauty but i'tho soul. 
 
 Erco. 0, 'tis tho fair Jolenta !— To what purpose 
 Are you thus oclips'd ! 
 
 Jol. Sir, I was rimning away 
 From tho nunour of this combat; I fled likewise 
 From tho untrue report my brother spread. 
 To his politic ends, that I waa got with child. 
 
 Leon. Cease hero all further scrutiny ; tliis p.iper 
 Shall give unto tho court each circumstance 
 Of all these passages. 
 
 Ario. No more: attend tho sonteneo of tho 
 court. 
 UarcMosH and diflioulty give estimation 
 To lUl things are i'tho world : you have met both 
 In these Bovoral piussagoa : now it does remain 
 jTluit thono HO eomieul ovont.s be blasted 
 I With no Hi'vority of sonteneo. You, Romelio, 
 SliiiU finjt deliver to that gentleman, 
 iWho Blood your second, all those obligations 
 
scEJfE vr. 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LAW-CASE. 
 
 145 
 
 Wherein he stands engag'd to you, receiving 
 Only the principal. 
 
 Bom. I shall, my lord. 
 
 Jul. I thank you : 
 I have an humour now to go to sea 
 Against the pirates ; and my only ambition 
 Is to have my ship furnish'd with a rare consort * 
 Of music, and when I am pleas' d to be mad, 
 They shall play me Orlando. 
 
 San. You must lay wait for the fiddlers ; 
 They'll fly away from the press like watermen. 
 
 Ario. Next, you shall marry that nun. 
 
 Horn. Most willingly. 
 
 Angio. su', you have been unkind; 
 But I do only wish that this my shame 
 May warn all honest vu'gins not to seek 
 
 * consorti See note on NoHhward Ho, act ii., scene 1. 
 
 The way to heaven, that is so wondrous steep, 
 Th[o]rough those vows they are too frail to keep, 
 
 Ai-io. Contarino, and Romelio, and yourself, 
 Shall for seven years maintain against the Tm-k 
 Six galleys. — Leonora, Jolenta, 
 And Angiolella there, the beauteous nun, 
 For their vows' breach unto the monasteiy. 
 Shall build a monastery. — Lastlj^, the two 
 
 surgeons. 
 For concealing Contaiino's recovery. 
 Shall exercise theii' art at their own charge 
 For a twelvemonth in the galleys. — So we leave 
 
 you, 
 Wishing your future life may make good use 
 Of these events, since that these passages, 
 'WTiich threaten'd ruin, built on_ rotten ground, 
 \Are with success beyond our wishes crown'd. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
APPIUS AND VIEGINIA. 
 
 Aj^inus and Virginia, a Tragedy. By John Webster. Printed in the year 165i. 4to. 
 
 The above is the only old edition of this play : it was put forth in 1659, with a new title-page, professing to be 
 Printed for Humphrey Moseley ; and again, with a third title-page, in 1679, as Acted at the Dukes Theater under the 
 name of The Roman Virgin or Unjust Judge, and as Printed, and are to be sold by most Booksellers. It has been 
 reprinted in the fifth vol. of a Continuation of Dodsley's Old Plays. 
 
 From a MS. in the Lord Chamberlain's Office, (see Malone's Hist. Ace. of the English Stage, p. 159, ed. Boswell,) 
 entitled on the margin Cockjntt Playes Appropried, and dated Aug. 10, 1639, it appears that "William Bieston [or 
 Bcestou], gent, governor of the King's and Queen's young company of players at the Cockpit in Drury-lane, having 
 represented unto his Majesty, that forty-five plays, of which the names are given, and of which the last mentioned 
 is Appius and Virginia, "doe all and every of them properly and of right belong to the sayd house, and 
 consequently that they are all his propriety," his Majesty signified his royal pleasure to the Lord Chamberlain, 
 requiring him to declare to all other companies of actors, "that they are not any ways to intermeddle with or 
 act any of the above-mentioned playes." 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONS. 
 
 ViRCIXIOS. 
 
 Arpics Claudius. 
 
 MiNUTIUS. 
 
 SroRifs Oppius. 
 Marcus Claui>ius. 
 numitorius. 
 
 ICILIUS. 
 
 Valerius. 
 
 horatius.* 
 
 Skutorius. 
 
 Two Cousins of Appius. _ 
 
 An Advocate. 
 
 A Roman Officer. 
 
 Senators, 
 
 CoRBULO, the Clown. 
 
 Virginia. 
 
 JUUA. 
 CALPnURNIA. 
 
 Nurso. 
 Lictors, Boldlon, Servants, &c. 
 
APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE I.* 
 Erdei- MiNUTius, Oppius, and Lictors. 
 Min. Is Appius sent for, that we may acquaint 
 him 
 With the decree o' the senate ? 
 
 First Lict. He is, my lord, 
 And will attend your lordships presently. 
 
 0pp. Lictor, did you tell him that our busi- 
 ness 
 Was from the senate 1 
 
 First Lict. I did, my lord ; and here he is at 
 hand. 
 
 Enter Appius Claudius, his two Cousins, and Maecus 
 Claudius. 
 
 App. Claud. My lords, your pleasure ? 
 
 Min. Appius, f the senate greet you well, and 
 by us do signify unto you that they have chosen 
 you one of the Decemviri. 
 
 App, Claud. My lords, far be it from the 
 thoughts of so poor a plebeian as your unworthy 
 servant Appius to soar so high : the dignity of 
 so eminent a place would require a person of the 
 best parts and blood in Rome. My lords, he 
 that must steer at the head of an empire ought 
 to be the mu-ror of the times for wisdom and for 
 policy ; and therefore I would beseech the senate 
 to elect one worthy of the place, and not to think 
 of one so unfit as Appius. 
 
 Min. My lord, my lord, you dally with your 
 wits. 
 
 * Sceae /.] Rome. Before the Senate-house. 
 
 t Appius, &c.] Though this and the next speech are 
 so arranged in the old copy as to look like blank- verse, 
 they are undoubtedly prose (to which the editor of ISIG 
 reduced only the latter one). Qy. is there any corruption 
 here ? Since throughout aU the rest of the play Minutius 
 and Appius speak in blank-verse, we may wonder that 
 in this solitary instance Webster should have made them 
 speak in prose. 
 
 I have seen children * oft eat sweetmeats thus. 
 As fearful to devour them : 
 
 You are wise, and play the modest courtier right, 
 To make so many bits of your delight. 
 
 0pp. But you must know, what we have once 
 
 concluded 
 Cannot, for any private man's affection. 
 Be slighted. Take your choice, then, with best 
 
 judgment 
 Of these two proffers ; either to accept 
 The place propos'd you, or be banish'd Rome 
 Immediately. — Lictors, make way ! — We expect 
 Your speedy resolution. 
 
 [Exeunt Oppius, Minutius, and Lict 
 
 First Cous. Noble cousin. 
 You wrong yourself extremely to refuse 
 So eminent a place. 
 
 Sec. Coiis. It is a means 
 To raise your kindred. Who shall dare t' oppose 
 Himself against our family, when yonder 
 Shall sit your power and frown 1 
 
 App. Claud. Or banish'd Rome ! — 
 I pray, forbear a little. — Marcus, — 
 
 Mar. Claud. Sir? 
 
 App. Claud. How dost thou like my cunning ? 
 
 Mar. Claud. I protest 
 I was be-agu'd, fearing lest the senate 
 Should have accepted at your feign'd refusal. 
 See how your kindred and your friends are 
 
 muster'd 
 To wai-m them at your sun-shine ! Were you 
 
 now 
 In prison, or arraign'd before the senate 
 For some suspect of treason, all these swallows 
 Would fly your stormy winter ; not one sing : 
 Their music is the summer and the spring. 
 
 ^ 
 
 * / have seen children, &c.] See note *, p. 05. 
 
l."0 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA, 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 App. Claud. Thou observ'st shrewdly. Well, 
 I'll fit them for't. 
 I must bo one of the Decemviri, 
 Or banish'd Rome ? baniah'd ! laugh, my trusty 
 
 Marcus ; 
 I am enforc'd to my ambition. 
 I have heard of cunning footmen that have worn 
 Shoes made of lead some ten days fore a race, 
 To give them nimble and more active feet : 
 So great men should, that aspire eminent place, 
 Load themselves with excuse and faint denial, 
 That they with more speed may perform the trial. 
 " Mark his humility," says one : " How far 
 His dreams are from ambition ! " says another ; 
 " He would not show his eloquence, lest that 
 Should draw him into office : " and a third 
 Is meditating on some thrifty suit 
 To beg fore dinner. Had I as many hands 
 Aa had Briarcus, I'd extend them all 
 To catch this office : 'twas my sleep's disturber, 
 My diet's ill digestion, my melancholy, 
 Past physic's cure. 
 
 Mar. Claud. The senators return. 
 
 lU-mter iltsxrriva, Orprca, and Lictors. 
 
 Afln. My lord, your answer ? 
 
 App. Claud. To obey, my lord, and to kncv 
 how to rule, 
 Do differ much : to obey, by nature comes ; 
 But to command, by long experience. 
 Never were groat men in so eminent place 
 Without their shadows : envy will attend 
 On greatness till this general frame takes end. 
 'Twixt those extremes of state and bimisiunont 
 My mind hath held long conflict, and at last 
 I thus return my answer : — noble fi-iondn. 
 Wo now must part ; necessity of state 
 Compels it so ; 
 
 I uiuNt inhabit now a place unknown ; 
 You soo't conij)el8 me leave you. Faro you well. 
 
 J'\rtt C'oiu. To baiiinliineut, my lord .' 
 
 App. Claud. I am given uj) 
 To n long travel full of fear and danger ; 
 To wiuio ihc) day in sweat, and the cold night 
 III a iiiust duMolnte contemplation ; 
 Itaiiijih'd fnirn all my kindred and my friends; 
 Ywi, bauinh'J from my«i<lf ; for I accept 
 TbU honuumblo calling. 
 
 .Vin. Worthy Aj.piu^ 
 Tho gtxU coniluct you IiuIrt. - LictorH, hi< 
 rt>b«»«. 
 
 Htc. C'oHj. Wo nro uia«lo for over, uoblo kini:- 
 niitn : 
 TwM but to frl^jht an. 
 
 I -App. Claud. But, my loving kinsmen, 
 i Mistake mo not ; for what I spake was true. 
 Bear witness all the gods. I told you first, 
 I was to inhabit in a place unknown : 
 I 'Tis very certain, for this reverend seat 
 I Receives me as a pupil; rather gives 
 I Ornament to the person, than our person 
 ; The least of grace to it. I show'd you next 
 I am to travel ; * 'tis a certain truth : 
 Look, by how much the labour of the mind 
 Exceeds the body's, so far am I bound 
 With pain and industry, beyond the toil 
 Of those that sweat in war ; beyond the toil 
 Of any artisan : pale cheeks, and sunk eyes, 
 A head with watching dizzied, and a hair 
 Turn'd white in youth, — all these at a dear rate 
 Wc purchase speedily that tend a state. 
 I told you I must leave you ; 'tis most true : 
 Henceforth the face of a barbarian 
 And yours shall be all one ; henceforth I'll know 
 
 you 
 But only by your virtue : brother or father, 
 In [a] dishonest suit, shall be to me 
 As is tho branded slave. Justice should have 
 No kindred, friends nor foes, nor hate nor love ; 
 As free from passion as the gods above. 
 I was your friend and kinsman, now your judge ; 
 And whilst I hold the scales, a downy fe;ithcr 
 Sliall as soon turn them as a mass of pearl 
 Or diamonds. 
 Mar. Claud, [aside]. Excellent, excellent lap- 
 wing ! 
 There's other "stuff clos'd in that subtle breast: 
 He sings and beats his wings far fi-om hia nest. 
 App. Claud. So, gentlemen, I take it, hero 
 takes end 
 Your business, my acquaintance : fiu-e you well. 
 First Coui. Here's a quick change ! who did 
 expect this cloud ? 
 Thus men when they grow groat do straight 
 grow proud. [A'-fcioi/ Cousin-*. 
 
 App. Claud. Now to our present busineta at tho 
 camp. 
 Tho army that doth winter before Algidumt 
 Is njuih distress'd wo hear: Minutiua, 
 You, with tho levies and tho little corn 
 Tiiis present deiu-th will yield, are speedily 
 To hiwtou thither; bo to appease tho mind 
 Of tho intoniporuto soldier. 
 
 Min. I am ready ; 
 Tho lovios do attend mo : our lieutenant 
 Send on our troopa. 
 
 • frrtw/J Soo not« », p. 112. 
 I lif/tirt Alffiilum] QUI o.jiy 
 
 'foro .\gldoii." 
 
SCENE III. 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 151 
 
 App. Claud, Farewell, Minutius : 
 The gods go with you, and be still at hand 
 To add a triumph to your bold command. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II." 
 Enter NuinxoRins, Icilius, and Virginia. 
 
 Num. Noble Icilius, welcome : teach yourself 
 A bolder freedom here ; for, by our love, 
 Your suit to my fair niece doth parallel 
 Her kindred's wishes. There's not in all Rome 
 A man that is by honour more approv'd, 
 Nor worthier, were you poor, to be belov'd. 
 
 Icil. You give me, noble lord, that character 
 Which I could never yet read in myself: 
 But from your censure + shall I take much care 
 To adorn it with the fairest ornaments 
 Of unambitious virtue. Here I hold 
 My honourable pattern ; one whose mind 
 Appears more like a ceremonious chapel 
 Full of sweet music, than a thronging presence. 
 I am confirm'd the court doth make some show 
 Fairer than else they would do : but her port, 
 Being simple virtue, beautifies the court. 
 
 Virginia. It is a flatteiy, my lord, 
 You breathe upon me ; and it shows much like 
 The borrow'd painting which some ladies use : 
 It is not to continue many days ; 
 My wedding-garments will outwear this praise. 
 
 Num. Thus ladies still foretell the funeral 
 Of their lords' kindness. 
 
 Enter a Servant, vho whispers Icilius in the ear. 
 
 But, my lord, what news I 
 Icil. Virginius, my lord, your noble brother, 
 Disguis'd in dust and sweat, is new arriv'd 
 Within the city : troops of artisans 
 Follow his panting horse, and with a strange 
 Confused noise, partly with joy to see him, 
 Partly with fear for what his haste portends ; 
 They show as if a sudden mutiny 
 O'erspread the city, 
 
 Nuvi. Cousin, take your chamber. 
 
 [Exit Virginia. 
 
 What business from the camp ? 
 
 Icil. Sure, sir, it bears 
 The fonn of some great danger ; for his horse, 
 Bloody with spurring, shows as if he came 
 From forth a battle : never did you see 
 'Mongst quails or cocks in fight a bloodier heel 
 Than that your brother strikes with. In this form 
 
 * Scene IIJ] A room in the house of Virglnixis. 
 t censu,re'\ i.e. opiuion. 
 
 Of o'erspent horseman, having, as it seems. 
 With the distracting of his news, forgot 
 House, friends, or change of raiment, he is gone 
 To the senate-house. 
 
 Num. Now the gods bring us safety ! 
 The face of this is cloudy : let us haste 
 To the senate-house, and there inquire how near 
 The body moves of this our threaten'd feai*. 
 
 \JExe".nt. 
 
 SCENE III.* 
 
 Ri^er Appius Claudius jnrianc/toJy/ after, Map.cus 
 
 Claudius. 
 
 Mar. Claud. My lord, — 
 
 App. Claud. Thou troublest me. 
 
 Mar. Claud. My hand's as ready arm'd to 
 work your peace, 
 As my tongue bold to inquire your discontents ; 
 Good my lord, hear me. 
 
 App. Claud. I am at much variance 
 Within myself ; there's discord in my blood ; 
 My powers are all in combat ; I have nothing 
 Left but sedition in me. 
 
 Mar. Claud. Trust my bosom 
 To be the closet of your private griefs : 
 Believe me, I am uncrannied. 
 
 App. Claud. May I trust thee 1 
 
 Mar. Claud. As the firm centre to endure the 
 burden 
 Of your light foot ; as you would trust the poles 
 i To bear on them this airy canopy, 
 ! And not to fear their shrinking. I am strong, 
 Fix'd, and unshaking. 
 
 App. Claud. Art thou?- then thine ear : t 
 I love. 
 
 Mar. Claud. Ha ! ha ! he ! 
 
 App. Claud. Can this my ponderous secrecy 
 Be in thine ear so light 1 seems my disturbance 
 Worthy such scorn that thou derid'st my griefs 
 Believe me, Claudius, I am not a twig 
 That every gust can shake, but 'tis a tempest 
 That must be able to use violence 
 On my grown branches. Wherefore laugh'st 
 thou, then ? 
 
 Mar. Claud. Not that you're mov'd : it makes 
 me smile in scoiti, 
 That wise men cannot understand themselves, 
 Nor know their own prov'd greatness. Claudius 
 
 laughs not 
 To think you love ; but that you ai-e so hopeless 
 Not to presume to enjoy whom you affect. 
 
 * Scene III. A room in the house of Appius CL-mdius. 
 t earl Old copy, " ever." 
 
 W ! 
 
152 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 ACT X. 
 
 What's she in Romo your greatness cannot awe, j 
 Or your rich purse purchase? Promises and j 
 threats i 
 
 Are statcmen's lictors to arrest such pleasures ■ 
 As they would bring within their strict com- 
 mands : 
 "WTiy should my lord droop, or deject his eye 1 
 Can you command Rome, and not countermand ^ 
 A woman's weakness ? Let your grace bestow 
 Your purse and power on rac : I'll prostrate you.' | 
 
 App. Claud. Ask both, and lavish them to 
 purchase mo 
 The rich foe-simple of Virginia's heart. 
 
 ilar. Claud. Virginia's ! 
 
 Apji. Claud. Hers. 
 
 Mar. Claud. I have already found 
 An eajsy path which you may safely tread, 
 Yet no man trace you. 
 
 App. Claud. Thou art my comforter. 
 
 if at: Claud. Uer father's busied in our foreign 
 wars, 
 And there hath chief employment : all their pay 
 Must your discretion scantle ; keep it back ; 
 Restrain it in the common treasury : 
 Thus may a statesman 'gainst a soldier stand, 
 To keep his purse weak, whilst you arm his 
 
 hand. 
 Her father thus kept low, gifts and rewards 
 Will tempt the maid the sooner; nay, haply 
 
 draw 
 The father in to plead in your behalf, 
 liut should these fail, then siege her virgin tower 
 With two prevailing engines, fear and power. 
 
 App. CtUud. Qo, thou, and prove a speeding ad- 
 vocate : 
 Arm thee with all our bounty, oratory. 
 Variety of promise. 
 
 h'littr V.M.KlllUM. 
 
 Vid. Lord Appiu-s, tho Docomvirnto entreat 
 Yuur voice in this day's stMiate. Old Virgiuius 
 ("ravcM Kudiuuco fn>ni tho aiuii>, with earnest suit 
 For tjuick doHpatch. 
 
 App. Claud, Wo will attend tho senate.— 
 Claudia*, bo gone. 
 
 [Rxrunt Maiicuh Cijii'uiuh and VALr.iiiuK 
 
 Bnler Ol'flim and Hknatoiih. t 
 0pp. Wo ««tit to you to oiMifltuH in this council 
 Tuuoliiog Uto expwlitioua of our ww. 
 
 ' ■' •■'■■''•■" ' " rtni to luoAl) I'll j.n.iitinilo, 
 
 "■hi; uiio ut Uio •citsc* of 
 
 • / (,r t>-^.4a o^u ^Ha(<rn| lUro, of counM, tho 
 
 App. Claud. Ours is a willing presence to the 
 trouble 
 Of all state-cares. — Admit him from the camp. 
 
 Enter ViRGlKIUS. 
 0pp. Speak the camp's will. 
 Virglniua. The camp wants money; we have 
 
 store of knocks. 
 And wounds God's plenty, but we have no pay : 
 This three months did we never house our heads 
 But in yon great star-chamber ; never bedded 
 But in the cold field-beds ; our victual fiiils us, 
 Yet meet with no supply ; we're fairly promis'd. 
 But soldiers cannot feed on promises; 
 All our provant apparel's* toni to rags. 
 And our munition fails us. Will you send us 
 To fight for Rome like beggars 1 Noble gentle- 
 men, 
 Are you the high state of Decemviri, 
 That have those things in manage I Pity us, 
 For we have need on't. Let not your delays 
 Be cold to us, whose bloods have oft been 
 
 heated 
 To gain you fame and riches. Prove not to us 
 (Being our friends) worse foes than we fight with : 
 Let's not be starv'd in kindness. Sleep you now 
 Upon the bench, when your deaf ears should 
 
 listen 
 Unto the wretchless clamours of tho poor ? 
 Then would I had my drums here, they might 
 
 rattle. 
 And rouse you to attendance ! Most gi-ave fathers. 
 Show yourselves worthy stewards to our mother, 
 Fair Rome, to whom we are no bastard sons. 
 Though we be soldiers. She hath in her store 
 Food to maintain lifo in the camp, as well 
 As surfeit for the city. Do not save 
 Tho foe a labour: send us some supply. 
 Lest, ere thoj' kill us, we by fiuniiio die. 
 App. Claiul. Shall I, my lords, givo answer to 
 
 this soldier] 
 0pp. Be you tho city's voice. 
 App, Claud. Virginias, wo would have you 
 
 thus possess'd :t 
 Wo sit not here to bo prescrib'd and taught. 
 Nor to Uavo any suitor givo us limit, 
 WboBO power admits no curb. Next know, 
 
 Virgiuius, 
 Tlio camp's our servant, and nuist bo dispos'd, 
 
 ikUftlonoo woro to tuppott n ohoiigo of Mono. Porhap* a 
 i-mliUn wiw ilniwn, mid Oppius and tho Sonalom woro 
 di»«M>vcrtHl itvntcd. 
 
 • proiixnl (i;i;xi>y;| |.o. plothliiif provlJod for tho nvmy. 
 
 t i'UMfM'ifJ 1.0. luforiuod. 
 
SCE?fE IIL 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 153 
 
 Controll'd, and us'd by us, that haTe the strength 
 
 To knifc it or dissolve it. When we please. 
 
 Out of our princely gi-ace and clemency, 
 
 To look upon your wants, it may be then 
 
 We shall redress them : but till then, it fits not 
 
 That any petty fellow wag'd by us 
 
 Should have a tongue so\md here, before a bench 
 
 Of such grave auditors. Further, — 
 
 Yirginms. Pray, give me leave. 
 Not here ! Pray, Appius, is not this the judg- 
 ment-seat 1 
 Where should a poor man's cause be heard but 
 
 herel 
 To you the statists of long-flourishing Rome, 
 To you I call, — if you have charity, 
 If you be human, and not (ruite given o'er 
 To furs and metal ; if you be Romans ; 
 If you have any soldier's blood at all 
 Flow in your veins ; help with your able aims 
 To prop a sinking camp : an infinite 
 Of fair Rome's sons, cold, weak, hungry, and 
 
 clotheless. 
 Would feed upon your surfeit : will you save 
 
 them, 
 Or shall they perish ? 
 
 Ap2^. Claud. What we will, we will; 
 Be that your answer : perhaps at further leisure 
 We'll help you ; not your merit, but our pleasure. 
 Tirginius. I will not curse thee, Appius ; but I 
 
 wish 
 Thou wert i'the camp amongst the mutineers 
 To tell my answers, not to trouble me. 
 Make you us dogs, yet not allow us bones ? 
 0, what are soldiers come to ! Shall your camp, 
 The strength of all your peace, and the iron wall 
 That rings this pomp in from invasive steel. 
 Shall that decay ] Then let the foreign fires 
 Climb o'er these buildings ; let the sword and 
 
 slaughter 
 Chase the gown'd senate through the streets of 
 
 Rome, 
 To double-dye their robes in scarlet ; let 
 The enemy's stripp'd arm have his crimson'd 
 
 brawns 
 Up to the elbows in your traitorous blood ; 
 Let Janus' temple be devolv'd ; your treasiu'es 
 Ripp'd up to pay the common adversaries 
 With our due wages. Do you look for less ? 
 The rottenness of this misgovern'd state ^ / 
 Must grow to some disease, incurable t ■ 
 
 Save with a sack or slaughter. ' f 
 
 App. Claud. You're too bold. 
 Tirginius. Know you our extremities ? 
 App. Claud. We do. 
 
 Virginius. And will not help them 1 
 
 App. Claud. Yes. 
 
 Virginius. When] 
 
 Aj^p. Claud. Hereafter. 
 
 Virginius. Hereafter! when so many gallant 
 spirits, 
 That yet may stand betwixt you and destruction, 
 Are sunk in death ? Hereafter ! when disorder 
 Hath swallow'd all our forces ? 
 
 App. Claud. We'U hear no more. 
 
 0pp. Peace, fellow, peace ! know the Decemviri 
 And their authority : we shall commit you else. . 
 
 Virginius. Do so, and I shall thank you; be 
 reliev'd. 
 And have a strong house o'er me ; fear no alarms 
 Given in the night by any quick perdu. 
 Your guilty in the city feeds more dainty 
 Than doth yom* general : 'tis a better ofiice 
 To be an under-keeper than a captain : — 
 The gods of Rome amend it ! 
 
 App. Claud. Break up the senate. 
 
 Virginius. And shall I have no answer? 
 
 App. Claud. So, farewell. 
 
 [Exeunt all cxce-pt Virginius. 
 
 Virginius. What slave would be a soldier, to be 
 censur'd 
 By such as ne'er saw danger ? to have our pay. 
 Our worths, and merits, balanc'd in the scale 
 Of base moth-eaten peace ] I have had wounds 
 Would have made all this bench faint and look 
 
 pale 
 But to behold them search'd. They lay their heads 
 On their soft pillows, pore upon their bags. 
 Grow fat with laziness and resty ease ,' 
 And us that stand betwixt them and disaster 
 They will not spare a drachma. my soldiers, 
 Before you want, I'll sell my small possessions 
 Even to my skin to help you; plate and jewels. 
 All shall be yours. Men that are men indeed, 
 The earth shall find, the sun and air must feed, 
 
 Erder Numitorius, Icilius, Valerius, and Virginia. 
 Num. Your daughter, noble brother, hearing 
 late 
 Of your arrival from the camp, most humbly 
 Prostrates her filial duty. 
 
 Virginius. Daughter, rise : — 
 And, brother, I am only rich in her, 
 And in your love, link'd with the honour'd 
 
 friendship 
 Of those fair Roman lords. — For you, Icilius, 
 I hear I must adopt you with the title 
 Of a new son : you are Virginia's chief ; 
 And I am proud she hath built her fair election 
 
154 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 I Upon such etoro of virtues. May you grow, 
 ' Although a city's child, to know a i-olJier, 
 And rate him to hia merit ! 
 Jcil. Noble father 
 i (For henceforth I shall only use that name), 
 Our meeting wa-s to urge you to the process 
 Of our fair contract. 
 
 VirginivLs. Witness, gentlemen. 
 Here I give up a father's interest, 
 But not a father's love ; that I will ever 
 Wear next my heart, for it was born with her, 
 And grows still with my age. 
 
 Nwm. Jcilius, 
 Receive her : — witness, noble gentlemen. 
 
 Yal. With all my heart. I would Icilius 
 
 could 
 
 Do aa much for me : but Rome affords not such 
 Another Virginia. 
 
 Virginia. I am my father's daughter, and by him 
 I must be sway'd in all things. 
 
 Num. Brother, this happy contract asks a feast. 
 As a thing due to such solemnities : 
 It shall be at my house, where we this night 
 Will sport away some hours. 
 
 Virr/iniiis. I must to horse. 
 
 Num. What, ride to-night ! 
 
 Viryinius. Must see the camp to-night : 
 'Tis full of trouble and distracted fears, 
 And may grow mutinous : I am bent to ride. 
 
 Vol. Tonight! 
 
 Virginius. I am engag'd : short farewells now 
 must serve ; 
 The universal business calls me hence, 
 That toucheth a whole people. Rome, I fear. 
 Thou wilt pay use for what thou dost forbear. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 ACT II.-SCENE I.' 
 
 Enltr CoRDUU-i, thr Clown, whiKptring VinfiiNlA.f 
 
 Virginia, Sirrah, go tell Calphurnia I am 
 walking 
 To Uike the air : entreat her company ; 
 Say I attend her coming. 
 
 Corb. Madum, I shall : but if you could walk 
 abroad, and get an heir, it were bettor; for your 
 fatlier hatU a fair revenue, and never a sou to 
 inherit. 
 
 Virginia. You are, nirrali, 
 
 Corb. Yes, I am uirrali ; hut not the pai'ty that 
 i* born to do that : tlioiigh I have no lordships, 
 ytt I have no much manuti-s to give my bottere 
 place. 
 
 Virginia. Whom mean you by your betters ? 
 
 Corb. I hope I hove learnt to know the tlircc 
 d»gre4M of compariMon ; for though I bo honut, 
 and you mrlior as m'«U a» inuUer, yet my Lord 
 IciliuM ia ojitimuM. 
 
 Virginia. 1 hcc thuro'a uotidng in such private 
 (lono 
 Ilut you uiujil hiquiro after. 
 
 Corb. And i-nii you blnnio uh, nindam, to long 
 for Uio inorry •Iny, an you do for tho nn i ry nrhtl 
 
 Viiyinia, Will you bo gone, Nir ! 
 
 * »mn 1 1 A utroot. 
 
 I Tu IliU •tiffv ainMttuii, ibo oia «<.py odiU. "i\ftfr 
 
 Corb. yes, to my Lady Calphuruia's ; I re- 
 member my errand. [Exit. 
 
 Virginia. My father's wondrous pensive, and 
 withal 
 With a supprcss'd rage left his house displcas'd, 
 Aud so in post Ls hurried to the camp : 
 It sads me much ; to expel which melancholy, 
 I have sent for company. 
 
 Enter Marcds Claudius and Musicians. 
 Afar. Claud. This opportunity was subtly 
 waited : 
 It it) tiie best part of a politician, 
 When ho would compass aught to fame his 
 
 industry, 
 Wisely to wait the advantage of tho houre ; 
 
 His happy minutes arc not always present 
 
 Express your greatest art ; Virginia hears you. 
 
 Virginia. O, I conceive tho occnsiou of this 
 hurniuiiy : 
 IciliuH sent it ; I must thank his kindness. 
 
 .Mar. Claud, Let not Virginia nitof hor 
 contemplation 
 
 * &>Hp\ 8co note ♦, p. 45. 
 
 t niff I »o tho Killtor of 1810.— Tlio oUl copy " tmtf."— 
 Mr. Colllor (rr^fitcx to Mirulpt't Srrrii Ucturri, &c , ji. 
 Ixxxv ), IroiUlii); of vurloiin ty|H«Kn>I>l>icnl urmm In tlio 
 work* of our nKl <lmnintiHt«, wrllo» lu follow*. •' Hut 
 lUo miMit roiunrkiiblo pixxif to the miiuo oflcct occun in 
 
SCENE II. 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 155 
 
 So high, to call this visit an intrusion ; 
 For when she understands I took my message 
 From one that did compose it with affection, 
 I know she will not only extend pardon, 
 But grace it with her favour. 
 
 Virginia. You mediate excuse for courtesies, 
 As if I were so barren of civility, 
 Not to esteem it worthy of my thanks : 
 Assure yourself I could be longer patient 
 To hear my ears so feasted. 
 
 Mar. Claud. Join all your voices till you make 
 the air 
 Proud to usurp your notes, and to please her 
 With a sweet echo ; serve Virginia's pleasure. 
 
 [Song. 
 
 As you have been so full of gentleness 
 
 To hear with patience what was brought to serve 
 
 you. 
 So hearken with your usual clemency 
 To the relation of a lover's sufferings. 
 Tour figure still does revel in his dreams ; 
 He banquets on your memory, yet finds 
 Not thoughts enough to satisfy his wishes ; 
 As if Virginia had compos'd his heart. 
 And fills it with her beauty. 
 
 Virginia. I see he is a miser in his wishes, 
 And thinks he never has enough of that 
 "Which only he possesses : but, to give 
 His wishes satisfaction, let him know 
 His heart and mine do dwell so near together, 
 That hourly they converse and guard each other. 
 
 Mar. Claud. Is fair Virginia confident she 
 knows 
 Her favour dwells with the same man I plead for ] 
 
 Virginia. Unto Icilius. 
 
 Webster's 'Appius and Virginia' (edit. Dyce, ii. 160), 
 where tliis passage is met with, as it is printed in the old 
 copy^ 
 
 ' Let not Virginia wate her contemplation 
 So high, to call this visit an intrusion.' 
 It is clear that 'wate' must be wi-ong, and the editor 
 suggests waie (i.e. weigh) as the fit emendation ; when, 
 as in the two preceding cases, he did not see that it is 
 only a blunder of w for r, because the person who 
 delivered the line could not pronounce the letter r: 
 read rate for ' wate,' and the whole difficulty vanishes." 
 
 Now, it was with something more than surprise that 
 I read what I have just quoted ; for in the first edition 
 of the present work (vol. "ii, 160," — to which Mr. Collier 
 so carefully refers), I gave the passage in question 
 liieraihn thus, 
 
 "Let not Virginia rate her contemplation," &c. 
 and the note on it in that edition is, — 
 
 "rate] So the Editor of 1S16. The old copy, 'wate.' 
 Qy. if a misprint for ' icaie,' i.e. weigh." 
 
 Why has Mr. Collier entirely suppressed the fact that 
 I inserted "rate" in the text of my former edition? 
 and why has he not mentioned that the emendation 
 "rate " was made by Mr. Dilke forty years ago ? 
 
 il/a?'. Claud. Worthy fair one, 
 I would not wrong your worth so to employ 
 My language for a man so much beneath 
 The merit of your beauty : he I plead for 
 Has power to make your beauty populous;* 
 Your frown shall awe the world ; an d in your smile 
 Great Rome shall build her happiness ; 
 Honour and wealth shall not be styl'd companions, 
 But servants to your pleasure. 
 Then shall Icilius (but a refin'd citizen) 
 Boast your affection, when Lord Appius loves 
 
 you? 
 Virginia. Bless his great lordship ! I was much 
 
 mistaken. 
 Let thy loi'd know, thou advocate of lust. 
 All the intentions of that youth are honourable, 
 Whilst his are fill'd with sensuality : 
 And for a final resolution know, 
 Our hearts in love, like twins, alike shall grow. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Mar, Claud. Had I a wife or daughter that 
 could please him, 
 I would devote her to him : but I must 
 Shadow this scorn, and soothe him still in lust. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 SCENE IL+ 
 Enter Sis Soldiei-s. 
 
 First Soldier. What news yet of Virginius' 
 return 1 
 
 Second Soldier. Not any. 
 
 First Sold. 0, the misery of soldiers ! 
 They doubly starve us with fair promises. 
 We spread the earth like hail or new-reap'd corn 
 In this fierce famine ; and yet patiently 
 Make our obedience the confined gaol 
 That starves us. 
 
 Third Sold. Soldiers, let us draw our swords 
 While we have strength to use them. 
 
 Fint Sold. 'Tis a motion 
 Which nature and necessity commands, 
 
 * populous] " Populous" says the Editor of 1S16, 
 "must be used here in the same sense as jwpular. 
 Should we not substitute it?" The following quota- 
 tions show that the text requires no alteration : — 
 " It should have bene some fine confection, 
 That might have given the broth some daintie taste ; 
 This powder was to grosse and populos." 
 
 The Tragedie of Arden of Feverskam, 1592, Sig. B 4. 
 The edition of A7-den, 16.33, has "populous." 
 
 " You wrong my health in thinking I love them: 
 Do not I know their jjop'.dous imperfections? 
 Why, they cannot live till Easter," &c. 
 Middleton's I'our Five Gallants, — Wor/cs, ii. 245, ed. Dyce. 
 t Scale II.] The camp, before Algidum. 
 
156 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 ACT IL 
 
 Enter MiNUTlCS. 
 Min. Yo're of Virginius's regiment ? 
 Omnea. Wc are. 
 
 Min. Why do you swarm in troops thus .' To 
 your quarter ! 
 Is our command grown idle ! To your trench ! 
 Come, I'll divide you : this your couferenco 
 Is not without suspect of miitinj-. 
 
 First Sold. Soldiers, shall I relate the grievances 
 Of the whole regiment ? 
 
 Omnea. Boldly. \ \ 
 
 Pint Sold. Then thus, my lord, \ \ 
 
 ifin. Come, I will not hear thee. 
 First Sold. Sir, you shall. 
 Souud all the drums and tiiimpets in the camp 
 To drown my utterance, yet above them all 
 I'll rear our just complaint. Stir not, my lord : 
 I vow you are not safe, if you but move 
 A sinew till you hear us. 
 
 Afin. Well, sir, command us ; 
 You are the general. 
 
 First Sold. No, my lord, not I : 
 I am almost starv'd j I wake in the wet trench, 
 Loaded with more cold iron than a gaol 
 Would give a murderer, while the general 
 Sleeps in a field-bed, and to mock our hunger 
 Feeds us with scent of the most curious faro 
 Tliat makes his tables crack ; our pay detain'd 
 By those that are our leaders ; and at once 
 Wc, in this nad and uuprcparid plight, 
 ^\'ith the enemy and famine daily fight 
 Afin. Do you threaten us ! 
 Omna. Sir, you sliall hear him out. 
 First Sold. You send us whips, ami iron 
 manaclen, 
 And hhacklcB plenty, but the devil a coin. 
 Would you would teach us that cannibal trick, 
 
 my lord, 
 Which Bomo rich men i'tho city oft do use ! 
 Bliuir« one devour another I 
 it in. Will you hoar mo 1 
 First Sold. llomo, thou'rt grown a moi t 
 unnatunJ mother 
 , To thoM havo held Ihoo by the golden locks 
 From HJnkiug into ruin ! Romulus 
 W'nM fo<l by a showolf ; but now our wolves, 
 Iu«l«ad of feeding us, devour our HomIi, 
 C«roiim» our blood, yot ore not drunk with it, 
 For ihriMi ihuHji oft is w»lcr. 
 ' Uin. Your cnptAin, 
 
 Noblo VirKiuiuH, i» Hunt [to] Ronio 
 For «u« of uU yoiir griovauooa. 
 Ftrtt .Kuld. Tu U\»o. 
 Omnsi, Ay, 'ii« foUo, 
 
 First Sold. He's stol'u away from's, never to 
 return : 
 And, now his age will suflFer him no more 
 Deal on the enemy, belike he'll turn 
 An usurer, and in the city air 
 Cut poor men's throats at home, sitting in's 
 chair. 
 Min. You wrong one of the honourablest com- 
 manders. 
 Oinncs. Honourable commander ! 
 First Sold. Commander ! ay, my lord, tliere goes 
 the thrift : 
 In victories the general and commanders 
 Share all the honour, as they share the spoil : 
 ' But in our overthrows where lies the blame ? 
 j The common soldier's fault ; ours is the shame. 
 ,; What is the reason that, being so far distant 
 1 From the affrighted enemy, we lie 
 \ I'the open field, subject to the sick humours 
 \ Of heaven and earth, unless you could bestow 
 {Two summers of* us? Shall I tell you tnith? 
 You account the expense of engines and of swords, 
 Of horses and of armour, dearer far 
 Than soldiers' lives. 
 I Oinncs. Now, by the gods, you do. 
 
 First Sold. Observe you not the ravens and the 
 crows 
 Have left the city-surfeit, and with us 
 They make full banquets ? Come, you birds of 
 
 death. 
 And fill your greedy crops with human flesh ; 
 Then to the city fly, disgorge it thei'O 
 Before the senate ; and from thence ari.*o 
 A plague to choke all Rome ! 
 Oinnes. And all the suburbs ! 
 Mill. Upon a soldier's word, bold gentlemen, 
 I expect every hour Virginius 
 To bring fresh comfort. 
 Oiinus. Whom? Virginius? 
 First Sold. Now, by the gods, if ever he return. 
 Wo' II drag him to the slaughter by his locks 
 Turn'd white with riot and incontinence. 
 And leave a precedent to all the world 
 How captains use their soldiers! 
 
 KiiUr VinoiNiDB. 
 
 Min. See, bo's roturn'd. — 
 Virginius, you aro not safe ; retire ; 
 Your troops ore mutinous : wo arc begirt 
 Willi enemies more daring and more fiorco 
 Than is the common foe. 
 
 Virginius. My troops, my lord I 
 
 V"] l.o. on. 
 
SCENE IT. 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 157 
 
 Min. Your life is threaten'd bj' these desperate 
 men : 
 Betake you to your horse. 
 
 Virginius. My noble lord, 
 I never yet profess'd to teach the art 
 Of flying. — Ha ! our troops grown mutinous ! 
 He dares not look on me with half a face 
 That spread this wildfire. — Where is oui' lieu- 
 tenant ? 
 
 Enter Valerius. 
 Val. My lord ?- 
 
 Virginius. Sirrah, order our companies. 
 Min. What do you mean, my lord ? 
 Virginius. Take air a little, they have heated 
 me. — 
 Sirrah, is't you will mutiny 1 
 Third Sold. Not I, sir. 
 Virginius. Is your gall burst, you traitor ? 
 Foui-th Sold. The gods defend,* sir ! 
 Virginius. Or is your stomach sea-sick] doth it 
 I'ise ] 
 I'll make a passage for it. 
 
 Fifth Sold. Noble captain, 
 I'll die beneath your foot. 
 
 Virginius. You rough porcupine, ha ! 
 Do you bristle, do you shoot your quills, you rogue 'i 
 First Sold. They have no points to hurt you, 
 
 noble captain. 
 Virginius. Was't you, my nimble shaver, that 
 would whet 
 Your sword 'gainst your commander's throat, you, 
 sirrah ? 
 Sixth Sold. My lord, I never dream'd on't. 
 Virginius. Slaves and cowards, 
 What, are you choleric now ] By the gods. 
 The way to purge it were to let you blood ! 
 I am i'the centre of you, and I'll make 
 The proudest of you teach the aspen-leaf 
 To tremble, when I breathe. 
 Min. A strange conversion. 
 Virginius. Advance your pikes ! the word ! 
 Omnes. Advance your pikes ! 
 Virginius. See, noble lord, these are no muti- 
 neers ; 
 These are obedient soldiers, civil men : 
 You shall command these, if your lordship please. 
 To fill a ditch up with theii- slaughter'd bodies, 
 That with more ease you may assault some town. — 
 So, now lay down your arms ! Villains and traitors, 
 I here cashier you : hence from me, my poison, 
 Not worthy of our discipline ! go beg. 
 Go beg, you mutmous rogues ! brag of the service 
 
 * defend] Le. forbid. 
 
 You ne'er dui'st look on : it were charity 
 To hang you, for my mind gives ye' re reserv'd 
 To rob poor market-women. 
 Min. Virginius, — 
 
 Virginius. I do beseech you to confirm my sen- 
 tence. 
 As you respect me. I will stand myself 
 For the whole regiment ; and safer far 
 In mine own single valoiir, than begirt 
 With cowards and with traitors. 
 
 Min. my lord, 
 You are too severe. 
 
 Virginius. Now, by the gods, my lord, 
 You know no discipline, to pity them. 
 Precious devils ! no sooner my back turn'd 
 But presently to mutiny ! 
 Omnes. Dear captain, — 
 
 Virginius. Refuse me,* if such traitorous rogues 
 Would not confound an army ! — When do you 
 
 march ? 
 When do you march, gentlemen ? 
 
 First Sold. My lord, we'll star^-e first ; 
 We'U hang first ; by the gods, do any thing. 
 Ere we'll forsake you. 
 
 Min. Good Vu'ginius, 
 Limit your passion. 
 
 Virginius. Sir, you may take my place. 
 Not my just anger from me. These are they 
 Have bred a dearth i'the camp: I'll wish our 
 
 foes 
 No greater plague than to have their company : 
 Show but among them all so many scars 
 As stick upon this flesh, I'll pardon them. 
 Min. How now, my lord, breathless 1 
 Virginius. By your favour : I ha' said. 
 Mischiefs confoimd me, if I could not wish 
 My youth renew'd again, with all her follies. 
 Only to have breath enough to rail against 
 
 These 'Tis too short. 
 
 Min. See, gentlemen, what strange distraction 
 Your falling oS' from duty hath begot 
 In this most noble soldier : you may live, 
 The meanest of you, to command a troop, 
 And then in others you'll coiTect those faults 
 Which in yourselves you cherish'd : eveiy captain 
 Bears in his private govemmebt that form 
 Which kings should o'er their subj ects, and to them 
 Should be the like obedient. We confess 
 Yoii have been distress'd; but can you justly chal- 
 lenge 
 Any commander that hath surfeited. 
 While that your food was limited'? You cannot. 
 
 * Refuse M«] See note §, p. 7. 
 
158 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Virginius. My lord, I have Bhar'd with them an 
 equal fortune, 
 Hunger and cold, march'd thorough watery fens, 
 Borne as great burdens as the pioneer, 
 When scarce the ground would bear me, — 
 
 .\fin. Good my lord, give u.s leave to proc«:6.1. — 
 The punishment your captiiiu hath inflicted 
 Is not sufficient ; for it cannot bring 
 Any eximiple to succeeding times 
 Of penance worth your faulting : happily 
 It may m you beget a certain shame ; 
 But it will [breed] in others a strong hope 
 Of the like lenity. Yet, gentlemen, 
 You have in one thing given me such a taste 
 Of your obedience, — when the fire was rais'd 
 Of fierce sedition, and the check was swoU'a 
 To sound the fatal trumpet, then the sight 
 Of this your worthy captain did disperse 
 All those xmfruitful humours, and even then 
 Convert you from fierce tigers to staid men : 
 We therefore pardon you, and do restore 
 Your captain to you, you unto your captain. 
 Oinnet. The gods requite you, noble general ! 
 Min. My lord, my lord 1 
 Omnes. Your piirdon, noble capUiin ! 
 Virffiniiu. Well, you arc the general, and the 
 fault is quit : 
 A soldier's teai-s, an elder brother's wit. 
 Have little salt in thcui, nor do they season 
 Things worth observing, for then- wautof reason. — 
 Take up your arms and use them, do, I pray : 
 Ere long you'll take y«jur legs to ruu away. 
 Min. And what supjily from Rome ? 
 VirginiuM. Ouod store of corn. 
 Min. What entertainment there] 
 Virffiniiu. Most honourable, 
 K-'pociftUy by the Lord Ajipius. 
 There IN great hopo that Appius will grow 
 The soldier's patron : witli what vehenicncy 
 Ho urg'd our wants, and with what expedition 
 Ha himtod the Hupjilien, it is almost 
 luirudible. There'M promis'd to the soldier, 
 IkMidoM their com, a bomiteoun donative ; 
 
 \A tttvut. 
 But 'li« not certain yet whon't shall bo paid. 
 Alin. How for j"t)ur own particular] 
 Virginiiu. My loni, 
 I WM nut ontor'd fully two pikos' length 
 I Into tUo Mnnl«, but they all stood bmv, 
 , An<l r<u-U laoii offer'd in«i lii« neat. The buHincs.H 
 I Fur which 1 wi-nt dc.ipat*:h'd, what gifls, what fa 
 i voum, 
 
 Wore ilono int>, your pood lonUhip ahall not hear. 
 For you would wonder t»t them; only thl», — 
 
 'Twould make a man fight up to the neck in blood, 
 To think Low nobly he shall be receiv'd 
 When he returns to the city. 
 
 Min. 'TiswelL 
 Give order the provision be divided. 
 And sent to every quarter. 
 
 Virginius. Sir, it shall. — 
 [Aside.] Thus men must slight their wrongs, or 
 
 else conceal them, 
 When general safety wills us not reveal them. 
 
 [Exeuii' 
 
 SCENE III.* 
 
 Enter Two Petitioners at one Door; at the other, Mabci> 
 Claudtus. 
 
 First Pet. Pray, is your lord at leismx ? 
 
 Mar. Claud. What is your suit ? 
 
 First Pet. To accept this poor petition, which 
 makes known 
 My many wi'ongs, in which I crave his justice 
 And upright sentence to support my cause. 
 Which else is trod down by oppression. 
 
 Mar. Claud. My lord's hand is the prop of 
 innocence, 
 And if your cause be worthy his supportauce, 
 It cannot fall. 
 
 First. Pet. Tlie gods of Homo protect him ! 
 
 Mar. Claud. What, is your paper, too, petition- 
 ary ] 
 
 .S'cc. Pd. It leans upon the justice of the judge. 
 Your noble lord, the verj' stay of Rome. 
 
 3Iar. Claud. And sm-er basis for a poor man's 
 cause 
 She cannot yield. Your papers I'll deliver ; 
 And when my lord ascends the judgment-seat. 
 You shall find gracious comfort. 
 
 Snttr IciLUis /roii6t«t/. 
 Jcil. Whore's yonr lord ? 
 Mar. Claud, [aside]. Icilius ! fair Virguxia's late 
 
 botroth'd ! 
 Icil. Your oara, I hopo, you have not forfeited. 
 That you return no answer : whoi-e's your lord .' 
 Mar. Claud. At's study. 
 Joil. I desire admittance to him. 
 
 • JSrviii' ///. ] Roiiiv. An oulcr!i|>«rlim'ut, it woulil 
 Hooin, 111 tho Ihhiko of A|>|>lui<. Hut jircsoiilly, wliou 
 •A|i|>iim la loft aloiio with KIHuh, n pIuuikv of sci-uc in 
 •ii7>/.o««/ ; for, i>. 100. Ai>|iiini wiyH to Cl:iiuliu», 
 " To aoiitl It ruflUm lilthur, 
 Kvoii to m>f cltttd," Ac, 
 (And yot. III tlio Kh-Ht Soono of tho next Act, leiliim 
 NIWAka of thU liitcrvluw wllli Apjilus as having tiikcu 
 |>Uoo " in Iht /oW>y " .') 
 
SCEjJfB III. 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 159 
 
 Mar. Claud. Please you attend : I'll know his 
 lordship's pleasure. — 
 [Aside.'] Icilius! I pray heaven she have not 
 blabb'd. [Exit. 
 
 Icil. "Attend ! " A petty lawyer t'other day, 
 Glad of a fee, but call'd to eminent place, 
 Even to his betters now the word 's " Attend : " 
 This gowned office, what a breadth it bears 1 
 How many tempests wait upon his frown ! 
 
 Re-enter Marcus Claudits. 
 Mar. Claud. All the petitioners withdraw. 
 
 ISxeuiit Petitioners. 
 Lord Appius 
 Must have this place more private, as a favour 
 Reserv'd for you, Icihus. — Here's my lord. 
 
 Enter Appids Claudius icifh Lictors afore him. 
 
 App. Claud. Be gone ; this place is only spar'd 
 for us, [Exeunt Lictors. 
 
 And you, Icilius. Now your business. 
 
 Icil. May I speak it freely ? 
 
 4 pp. Claud. "We have suffering ears, 
 A heart the softest down may penetrate : 
 Proceed. 
 
 Icil. My lord, — 
 
 App. Claud. We are private ; pray, your cour- 
 tesy. 
 
 Icil. My duty — 
 
 App. Claud. Leave that to the public eye 
 Of Rome and of Rome's peojile. — Claudius, there I 
 
 Mar. Claud. My lord ? 
 
 App. Claud. Place me a second chair; that done. 
 Remove yourself So, now your absence, Claudius. 
 [Exit Mak. Claudius. 
 Icilius, sit : this gi'ace we make not common 
 Unto the noblest Roman, but to you 
 Our love affords it freely. Now your suit ? 
 
 Icil. It is, you would be kind unto the camp. 
 
 App. Claud. "Wherein, Icilius, doth the camp 
 touch thee ? 
 
 Icil. Thus : old Virginius, now my father-in-law, 
 Kept from the public pay, consumes himself, 
 Sells his revenues, turns his plate to coin. 
 To wage his soldiers and supply the camp ; 
 Wasting that useful substance which indeed 
 Should rise to me as my Vu'ginia's dowry, 
 
 App. Claud. We meet that opposition thus, Ici- 
 lius : 
 The camp's supplies do not consist in us. 
 But those that keep the common treasury ; 
 Speak or entreat we may, but not command. 
 But, sir, I wonder you, so brave a youth, 
 Son to a thrifty Roman, should ally you 
 And knit youi* strong arms to such falling branches 
 
 Which rather in their ruin will bear down 
 Your strength, than you support their rotteuness. 
 Be sway'd by me ; fly from that ruinous house. 
 Whose fall may crush you, and contract with mine, 
 AYhose bases are of marble, deeply fix'd 
 To maugre * all gusts and impending storms. 
 Cast off that beggar's daughter, poor Virginia, 
 "VMiose dowiy and beauty I'll see ti-ebled both 
 In one alhed to me. Smile you, Icilius ? 
 
 Icil. My lord, my lord, think you I can imagine 
 Yoiu" close and sparing hand can be profuse 
 To give that man a palace whom you late 
 Denied a cottage? Will you from yom* own coffei-s 
 Grant me a treble dowry, yet interpose me 
 A poor third from the common treasury ? 
 You must move me by possibilities. 
 For I have brains : give first your hand and seal, 
 That old Virginius shall receive his pay. 
 Both for himself and soldiers ; and, that done, 
 I shall perhaps be soon induc'd to think 
 That you, who vrith such willingness did that, — 
 
 App. Claud. Is my love mispriz'd ? 
 
 Icil. Not to Virginia. 
 
 App. Claud. Virginia ! 
 
 Icil. Yes, Virginia, lustful lord. 
 I did but trace your cunning all this while : 
 You would bestow me on some Appian trull. 
 And for that di'oss to cheat me of my gold : 
 For this the camp pines, and the city smarts : 
 All Rome fares worse for thy incontinence. 
 
 App. Claud. Mine, boy ! 
 
 Icil. Thine, judge. This hand hath intercepted 
 Thy letters, and perus'd thy tempting gifts t ; 
 These ears have heard thy amorous passions, 
 
 wretch ! 
 These eyes beheld thy treacherous name subscrib'd. 
 A judge? a devil! 
 
 App. Claud. Come, I'll hear no more. 
 
 Icil. Sit stUl, or, by the powerful gods of Rome, 
 I'll nail thee to the chaii- : but suffer me, 
 I'll offend nothing but thine eai's, 
 
 App. Claud. Our secretary ! 
 
 Icil. Tempt not a lover's fury : if thou dost. 
 
 I * To maugre^ i.e. to defy. I know no otiier instance 
 I of this word being used as a verb : as an adverb, with 
 J the sense in spite of, it often occui-s. 
 
 I t gifts] The old copy "guests."— The. Rev. J. Mitford 
 {Gent. Mag. for June 1833, p. 491) would read "quests." 
 But compare what Appius says a little after; 
 "and for those letters. 
 Tokens, and presents, we acknowledge none.' 
 I may add, that in Shakespeare's Tempest, act iv. sc. 1, 
 the fii-st foUo has the same misprint, — 
 
 " Then, as my gv.est, and thine own acquisition 
 Woi-thUy purchas'd, take my daughter, " &c. 
 
160 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 Now, by my vow inBculp'd in bcaveu, I'll send 
 thee — 
 
 App. Claud. You see I am patient. 
 
 Icil. But witlial rcvcngelesa. 
 
 Apj). Claud. So, eay on. 
 
 IcU. Hope not of any grace or the least favour : 
 I am so covetous of Virginia's love, 
 I cannot spare thee the least look, glance, touch : 
 Divide one bare imaginary thought 
 Into a thousand thousand parts, and that 
 I'll not afford thee. 
 
 App. Claud. Thou shalt not. 
 
 JcU. Nay, I will not : 
 Hadst thou a judge's place above those judges 
 That judge all souls, having power to sentence me, 
 I would not bribe thee, no, not with one hair 
 From her fair temples. 
 
 A]>p. C/au(Z.'' Thou shouldst not. 
 
 Jcil. Nay, I would not. 
 Think not her beauty shall have leave to crown 
 Thy lustful hopes with the least spark of bliss, 
 Or have thine cars charm'd with the ravishing 
 
 sound 
 Evcu of her harshest phrase. 
 
 App. Claud. I will not. 
 
 JcU. Nay, thou shalt not. 
 .She's mine ; my soul is crown'd in her desire; 
 To her I'd travel through a land of fire. 
 
 App. Claud. Now have you done? 
 
 Jcil. I have spoke my thoughts. 
 
 App. Claud. Then will thy fury give mo leave 
 to B]tcak ? 
 
 Jcil. I pray, say on. 
 
 App. Claud. IciliuB, I must chido you, and 
 withal 
 Toll you your rashness hatli made forfeiture 
 Kvcn of your precious life, which wo esteem 
 Too dear to call iu question. If I wish'd you 
 Of my ftUiance, gruird into my blood, 
 C'oudeiiui you mo for that ? 0, see the rashness 
 And blind misprision of distompcr'd youth ! 
 Aj» for tlio muiil Virginia, wo are fur 
 Evou iu Icoat thought from her; und for those 
 
 Icttcn, 
 TukeuB, and preHonUt, wo acknowledge none. 
 Al««, tiiuugh groftt in plaoo, wo aro not gods : 
 If ttiiy fiU»o Impostor hnth usurp'd 
 Our Laud or gruatuuiw in his own behoof, 
 Call we help that ? Iciliiw. there's our hand ; 
 Your nubiicM wn n'init : IuI'h have hcrouftor 
 Vour lovo Mid b««i opiiiiou. For your iiuit, 
 ' n ttt both our lMitt«r luiiiuruM, 
 
 !>o in it now iifo. 
 
 /tiV. 1 craTo your parduu. 
 
 App. Claud. Granted ere crav'd, my good 
 Icilius. 
 
 Icil. Morrow. 
 
 App. Claud. It is no more, indeed. Morrow, 
 Icilius. 
 If any of our servants waifwithout. 
 Command them in. 
 
 Icil. I shall. 
 
 App. Claud. Our secretary, — 
 We have use for him ; Icilius, send him hither : 
 Again, good-morrow. [Exit Iciliut, 
 
 Go to thy death ; thy life is doom'd and cast. 
 Appius, be circumspect, and be not rash 
 In blood, as thou'rt in lust : be murderous still ; 
 But when thou strik'st, with unseen weapons kill. 
 
 Re-enter Marccs Claudius. 
 
 Mar. Claud. My honourable lord, — 
 
 App. Claud. Deride mc, dog? 
 
 Mar. Claud. Who hath stirr'd up this temi>est 
 in your brow? 
 
 App. Claud. Not you ! fie, you ! 
 
 Mar. Claud. All you Pantheon gods 
 Confound me, if my soul be accessary 
 To your distractions ! * 
 
 App. Claud. To send a rufiian hither, 
 Evcu to my closet; first, to brave my grcatnct^ . 
 Play with my beard, revile me, taunt me, hiss me ; 
 Nay, after all these deep disparagements. 
 Threat me with steel, and menace mc un;\rm'd, 
 To nail me to my seat if I but mov'd : 
 All these are slight, slight toys. 
 
 Mar. Claud. Icilius do this? 
 
 App. Claud. Ruflian Icilius : he that, in the fi-out 
 Of a smooth citizen, bears the rugged soul 
 Of a most base banditto. 
 
 Mar. Claud. Ho shall die for't 
 
 A2ip. Claud. Bo not too rash. 
 
 Mar. Claud. Were there no more men to sup 
 port great Rome, 
 Kven falling Uomc should perish ore bo stand : 
 I'll after him, and kill him. 
 
 Ajip. Claud. .Stay, I charge thco. 
 Lenil mo a patiout eai- : to right our wrongs, 
 Wo must not menace with a public haixl ; 
 Wo stmid iu the world's eye, and shall bo Uix'd 
 Of the least violence whei-o we revenge : 
 Wo should smilo smoothost where our hate'.>< 
 
 most deep, 
 And when our sploou's broad waking, seem to sloeji. 
 i-ot tho young man play still upon the bit, 
 'I'ill wi< luivo brought luid train'd him to our luiv 
 (iix'iit iiieii Bhould stiiko but once, and then btriki 
 Burc. 
 
SCENE I. 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 161 
 
 Mar. Claud. Love you Virginia still ? 
 
 App. Claud. Do I still live ? 
 
 Mar. Claud. Then she's your own. Virginius 
 is, you say, 
 Still in the camp] 
 
 App. Claud. True. 
 
 Mar. Claud. Now in his absence will I claim 
 Virginia 
 To be the daughter of a bondwoman. 
 And slave to me ; to prove which, I'll produce 
 Firm proofs, notes probable, sound witnesses : 
 Then, having with your Lictors summon'd her, 
 I'll bring the cause before your judgment-seat ; 
 Where, upon my infallid evidence, 
 You may pronounce the sentence on my side, 
 And she become your strumpet, not your bride. 
 
 Ap'p. Claud. Thou hast a copious brain: but 
 how in this 
 Shall we dispose Icilius? 
 
 Mar. Claud. If he spurn. 
 Clap him up close : there's ways to charm his 
 
 spleen. 
 By this no scandal can redound to you ; 
 The caiise is mine ; you but the sentencer 
 Upon that evidence which I shall bring. 
 The business is, to have warrants by arrest. 
 To answer such things at the judgment-bar 
 As can be laid against her : ere her friends 
 Can be assembled, ere herself can study 
 Her answer, or scarce know her cause of sum- 
 mons 
 To descant on the matter, Appius may 
 Examine, try, and doom Virginia. 
 But all this must be sudden. 
 
 App. Claud. Thou art born 
 To mount me high above Icilius' scorn. 
 I'll leave it to thy manage. {Exeunt. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 SCENE I.* 
 Enter Nurse and Corbulo. 
 
 Corh. What was that you said, nurse ? 
 
 Nurse. Why, I did say thou must bestir thyself. 
 
 Corh. I warrant you, I can bestir my stumps as 
 soon as another, if fit occasion be offered : but why 
 do you come upon me in such haste? is it because, 
 nurse, I should come over you at leisure ? 
 
 Nurse. Come over me, thou knave ! what dost 
 thou mean by that 1 
 
 Corh. Only this ; if you will come off, I will 
 come on. 
 
 Nurse. My lord hath strangers to-night: you 
 must make ready the parlour ; a table and lights : 
 nay, when,+ I say 1 
 
 Corh. Methinks you should rather wish for a 
 bed than for a board, for darkness than for lights : 
 yet I must confess you have been a light woman 
 in yotu" time ; but now — 
 
 Nurse. But now ! what now, you knave ? 
 
 Corh. But now I'll go fetch the table and some 
 lights presently. 
 
 Enter NuMiTORius, Horatius, Valerius, and Icilius. 
 Num. Some lights to usher in these gentlemen ! 
 
 * Scene I.] Rome. An apartment in the house of 
 Numitoi-ius. 
 
 t when'\ See note *, p. 6S. 
 
 Clear all the rooms without there ! — Sit, pray, 
 
 sit. — 
 None interrupt our conference. 
 
 Enter Virginia. 
 
 Ha, who's that ? 
 Nurse. My most [dear *] child, if it please you. 
 Num. Fair Virginia, you are welcome. — 
 The rest forbear us till we call. 
 
 \_Exeunt Nurse and Corbulo. 
 
 Sweet cousin, 
 Our business and the cause of our discourse 
 Admits you to this council : take your place.- - 
 IcUius, we are private ; now proceed. 
 
 Icil. Then thus : Lord Appius doth intend me 
 wrong ; 
 And under his smooth calmness cloaks a tempest 
 That will ere long break out in violence 
 On me and on my fortunes. 
 
 Num. My good cousin, 
 You are young, and youth breeds rashness. Can I 
 
 think 
 Lord Appius will do wrong, who is all justice ; 
 The most austere and upright censurer 
 That ever sat upon the awful bench ? 
 
 * My mostldearl cMW] The old copy, "My most 
 
 child," the printer, it would seem, having been unable to 
 decipher the word which he has marked by a break. 
 
162 
 
 APPIUS AKD VIRGINIA. 
 
 AC!T in. 
 
 Val. Icilius, you are near to me in blood, 
 And I esteem your safety aa mine own : 
 If you will needs wage * eminence and state, 
 Choose out a weaker opposite, not one 
 That in his arm bears all the strength of Rome. 
 
 Num. Beside."?, Icilius, 
 Know you the danger what it is to scandal 
 One of his place and sway ? 
 
 JcU. 1 know it, kinsmen ; yet this popular 
 greatness 
 Can bo no bugbear to affright mine innocence. 
 No, his smooth crest hath cast a pulped f film 
 Over Rome's eyes. He juggles, a plain juggler ; 
 Lord Appius is no less. 
 
 Nutn. Nay, then, cousin. 
 You are too harsh, and I must hear no more. 
 It ill becomes my place and gravity 
 To lend a face to such reproachful terms 
 'Gainst one of his high presence. 
 
 Icil. Sit, pray, sit. 
 To see me drawTiis picture fore your eyes. 
 To make this man seem monstrous, and this god 
 Rome so adores, a devil, a plain devil. 
 This lord, this judge, this Appius, that professeth 
 To all the world a vestal chastity. 
 Is an incontinent, loose lecher grown. 
 
 Num. Fie, cousin ! 
 
 Icil. Nay, 'tis true. Daily and hourly 
 He tempts this blushing virgin with large promises. 
 With melting words, and presents of high i-ate, 
 To bo the stale to his unchaste desires. 
 
 Omiut, Is't possible } 
 
 JcU. Possible ! 
 'Tls actual truth : I pray, but ask your niece. 
 
 Virffinia. Most true, I am extremely tir'd and 
 wearied 
 With mcshjigos and tokens of his love ; 
 No answer, no rojiulrto will sutihfy 
 The todiouaness of his importunate suit 
 And whiUt I could with modesty and honour. 
 Without the danger of reproach and sliamo, 
 I kept it Hecrct from Iciliu* ; 
 Hut when I (taw their boKlnoss found no limit, 
 Ami they from Ciir outreuty grow to throats, 
 I told him all. 
 
 IctL Truo : undcrstauJiug which, 
 To bim I wont 
 
 • invj ••WoUur," auyii Niinw lii Ilia GlouAry, " liM 
 UBo-l Iho •iinjuUr iij(|irv»ai<>ii of miyii^f ' aidiiuinoo AJiil 
 •UU,' iiiMiiliitf lo c.utoii.t lu lh..«o|>.iliiU" AnorwiiiiU, 
 |> nr. w.. lu»\o, "My puTkc U loo i»ciuit U> teauf tuw 
 Will. II . 
 
 t ' 
 
 'lorkno^M om tho n«rlh." 
 
 Jltvun Ai/t, lOia. Hig. V. 
 
 Val. To AppiuB? 
 
 Icil. To that giant, 
 The high Colossus that bestrides us all ; * 
 I went to him. 
 
 Ilor. How did you bear yourself 1 
 
 Icil. Like Appius, at the first, dissemblingly ; 
 But when I saw the coast clear, all withdrawn. 
 And none but we two in the lobby, then 
 I drew my poniard, took him by the throat. 
 And, when he would have clamour'd, thi-eatcn'd 
 
 death, 
 Unless he would with patience hear me out. 
 
 Num. Did he, Icilius ? 
 
 led. I made him that he durst not squeak, 
 Not move an eye, not draw a breath too loud. 
 Nor stii' a finger. 
 
 Ear. What succeeded then ] 
 
 Num. Keep fast the door there 1 — Sweet coz, 
 not too loud. 
 What then succeeded ? 
 
 Icil. Why, I told him all ; 
 Gave him his due, call'd him lascivious judge, 
 (A thousand things which I have now forgot,) 
 Show'd him his hand a witness 'gainst himself. 
 And every thing with such known circumstance. 
 That he might well excuse, but not deny. 
 
 Num. How parted you? 
 
 Icil. Why, friends in outward show ; 
 But I perceiv'd his heiu-t : that hypocrite 
 Was born to gull Rome, and deceive us all. 
 He swore to me quite to abjure her love ; 
 Yet, ere myself could reach Virginia's chamber, 
 One was before me with rogreets t from him ; 
 I know his hand. The intent of this our meeting 
 Was to entreat your counsel and advice : 
 The good old man, her father, is from homo ; 
 I think it good that sho now in his absence 
 Should lodge in secret with some private friend. 
 Where Appius nor his Lictoi-s, those blood- 
 hounds. 
 Can hunt her out. You are her uncle, sir ; 
 1 pray, counsel tho best. 
 
 Num. To oppose otirselvoa. 
 Now in this heat, against so great a man, 
 Might, in my judgment, to oureelves bring danger, 
 And to my niece no safety. If wo fall, 
 Sho cannot Mtand ; lot's, then, preserve ourselves 
 Until her father bo disoharg'd the camp. 
 
 Vol. And, good Icilius, for your private cudf, 
 
 * Th* hioK Coltunu that butridn M aU] From Shako - 
 ■|i«»ro ;— 
 
 "ho clolh bo«trido tho Jiarrow world 
 I.Iko n OoKwmiii." J\ai\u Owar, Act 1. Sc, 11. 
 
 t nymfj) I. o. frwh gruollngH. 
 
SCENE II. 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 163 
 
 And the dear safety of your friends and kindred, 
 Against that statist spare to use your spleen. 
 Icil. I will be sway'd by you. — My lords, 'tis 
 late, 
 And time to break up conference. — Noble uncle, 
 I am your growing debtor. 
 Num. Lights without there ! 
 Icil. I will conduct Virginia to her lodging. 
 Good night to all at once. 
 
 Num. The gods of Rome protect you all ! and 
 then 
 We need not fear the envious rage of men. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II.* 
 Enter Mabcds Claudius, tcilh Four Lictors. 
 Mar. Claud. Lictors, bestow yom-selves in some 
 close shops, 
 About the Forum, till you have the sight 
 Of fair Virginia ; for I understand 
 This present morning she'll come forth to buy 
 Some necessaries at the sempsters' shops : 
 Howe'er accompanied, be it your care 
 To seize her at our action. Good my friends. 
 Disperse yourselves, and keep a careful watch. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 First Lict. 'Tis strange that ladies will not pay 
 their debts. 
 
 Sec. Lict. It were strange, indeed, if that our 
 Roman knights would give them good example 
 and pay theirs. 
 
 First Lict. The calendar that we Lictors go by 
 is all dog-days. 
 
 Sec. Lict. Right ; our common hunt is still to 
 dog unthrifts. 
 
 Fir&t Lict. And what's your book of common- 
 prayer 1 
 
 Sec. Lict. Faith, only for the increase of riotous 
 young gentlemen i' the country, and bankrupts i' 
 the city. 
 
 First Lict. I know no man more valiant than 
 we are, for we back knights and gentlemen daily. 
 
 Sec. Lict. Right, we have them by the back 
 hourly : your French fly applied to the nape of 
 the neck for the French rheum is not so sore a 
 drawer as a Lictor. 
 
 First Lict. Some say that, if a little-timbered 
 fellow would justle a great loggerhead, let him be 
 sure to lay him i' the kennel ; but when we 
 shoulder a knight, or a knight's fellow, we make 
 him more sure, for we kennel him i' the counter. 
 
 * Scene II.'] The same. The Forum. 
 
 Sec. Lict. Come, let's about our business. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Enter Virginia, Nurse, and CoEBaLO. 
 
 Virginia. You are grown wondrous amorous of 
 late : 
 Why do you look back so often ? 
 
 Corh. Madam, I go as a Frenchman rides, all 
 upon one buttock. 
 
 Virginia. And what's the reason ? 
 
 Corh. Your ladyship never saw a monkey in 
 all your lifetime have a clog at's tail, but he's 
 still looking back to see what the devil 'tis that 
 follows him. 
 
 Nurse. Very good ; we are your clogs, then. 
 
 Virginia. Your crest is grown regardant : * 
 here's the beauty 
 That makes your eyes forgetful of their way. 
 
 Corb. Beauty! the gods! madam, I cannot 
 endure her complexion. 
 
 Nurse. Why, sir, what's my complexion ? 
 
 Cori. Thy complexion is just between a Moor 
 and a French-woman. 
 
 Virginia. But she hath a matchless eye, sir. 
 
 Corh. True, her eyes are not right matches : 
 besides, she is a widow. 
 
 Nurse. What then, I pray you] 
 
 Corb. Of all waters I would not have my beef 
 powdered with a widow's tears. 
 
 Virginia. Why, I beseech youl 
 
 Curb. 0, they are too fresh, madam; assure 
 yourself they will not last for the death of fourteen 
 husbands above a day and a quarter : besides, if 
 a man come a wooing to a widow, and invite her 
 to a banquet, contrary to the old rule, she will 
 sooner fill her eye than her belly. Besides that, 
 if he look into her estate, first— look you, here 
 are four fingers— first the charge of her husband's 
 funeral, next debts and legacies, and lastly the 
 reversion : now, take away debts and legacies, and 
 what remains for her second husband 1 
 
 Nurse. I would some of the tribe heard you. 
 
 Corb. There's a certain fish that, as the learned 
 divulge, is called a shark: now, this fish can 
 never feed while he swims upon's belly; marry, 
 when he lies upon his back, 0, he takes it at 
 pleasui'e. 
 
 Virginia. Well, sir, about your business; make 
 provision 
 Of those things I directed. 
 
 Corb. Sweet lady, these eyes shall be the clerks 
 of the kitchen for your belly ; but I can assure 
 
 * regardant^ "A term in heraldi-y, aud signifies looking 
 behind. " Editor o/ 1816. 
 
 M 2 
 
164 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA- 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 you, woodcocks will be hard to bo spoko with, for 
 there's a great feast towards. 
 
 Virginia. You arc very plexsant. 
 
 Corb. And fresh cod ia taken down thick and 
 threefold; women without great bellies go together 
 by tho ears for't ; and such a number of sweet- 
 toothed caters * in the niarket, not a calf's head 
 to be got for lovo or money; mutton's mutton 
 now. 
 
 Virginia. WLy, was it not so ever? 
 
 Cor6. No, madam, the sinners i" tho suburbs 
 had almoit ta'en tho uamet quite away from't, 
 'twas so cheap and common : but now 'tis at a 
 Bweet reckoning; the term-time is the mutton- 
 monger in the whole calendar. 
 
 Nurse. Do your lawyei-s eat any salads with 
 their mutton ? 
 
 Corb. Yes, the younger rcvellera use capera to 
 their mutton so long till with their shuffling and 
 cutting some of them be out at heels again. — A 
 bountiful mind and a full purse ever attend your 
 ladyship ! 
 
 Virginia. 0, I thank you. 
 
 JU-tfUer Marcus Claudius and Lictors. 
 
 Afar. Claud. See, yon's the lady. 
 
 Corb. I will buy up for your ladyship all tho 
 young cuckoos in tlio market 
 
 Virginia. What to do ? 
 
 Curb. O, 'tis the most delicatest dish, I'll asBure 
 you, and newest in fashion : not a great feast in 
 all Ilome without a cuckoo. 
 
 Mar. Claud. Virginia, — 
 
 Virginia. Sir? 
 
 Mar. Claud. Mistress, you do not know mc, 
 Yot wo mtiiit be ac(piainted : follow me. 
 
 Virginia. You do Baluto me strangely. Follow 
 you ! 
 
 Corb. Do you hoar, sir? methinks you have 
 followers enough. Many gontlcuion tliat I know 
 would not liavo ho many tall followers as you iiavo 
 for tho price of ten hunting geldiugn, I'll assure 
 you. 
 
 Mar. Claiul. Como, will you gol 
 
 Virginia. Whitiierl by what coiumand ? 
 
 Mar. Claud. Hy warrant of thoso men, and 
 privtifgo 
 I liohl ovon on thy life. Como, yo proud tlanu', 
 Yuu M-o itut wh»t you seam. 
 
 Virginia. Uncivil »ir, 
 
 • ftUrr*] 
 
 ( Ikt in ••>. 
 
 • liruaUluU. 
 
 n » voiy cotniiKiii cunt Icriii r.r 
 
 What makes you thus familiar and thus bold ? 
 Unhand me, villain ! 
 
 Mar. Claud. What, mistress, to your lord ? 
 He that can set the razor to your throat, 
 And punish you as freely as the gods. 
 No man to ask the cause ? Thou art my slave. 
 And here I seize what's mine. 
 
 Virginia. Ignoble villain ! 
 I am as free as tho best king or consul 
 Since Romulus. What dost thou mean ? Unhand 
 
 me. — 
 Give notice to my uncle and Icilius 
 What violence is offer'd me. 
 
 Mar. Claud. Do, do. 
 
 Corb. Do you press women for soldiers, or do 
 you beg women, instead of other commodities, to 
 keep your hands in ure ? * By this light, if thou 
 hast any eai-s on thy head, as it is a question, I'll 
 make my lord pull you out by tho ears, though 
 you take a castle. [Exit. 
 
 Mar. Claud. Come, will you go along? 
 
 Nurse. Whither should she go, sir? Here's 
 pulling and haling a poor gentlewoman ! 
 
 Mar. Claud. Hold you your prating, reverence : 
 the whip 
 Shall seize on you for your smooth cozenage. 
 
 Virginia. Are not you servant to Lord Appius ? 
 
 Mar. Claud. Howe'er I am your lord, and will 
 approve it 
 Fore all the senate. 
 
 Virginia. Thou wilt provo thyself 
 The cursed pander for another's lust ; 
 And this your plot shall bui-st about your ears 
 Like thunderbolts. 
 
 Mar. Claud. Hold you that confidence : 
 Fii-st I will seize you by tho course of law, 
 And then I'll talk with you. 
 
 £iiltr Ic'ii.ii's and NuMiTORius. 
 
 iVitm, How now, fair cousin ! 
 
 IcU. How now. gentlemen ! 
 What's tho ofloneo of fair Virginia, 
 You bond yoiu" weapons on us ? 
 
 Lift. Sir, stand back ; 
 Wo fear a rosoue. 
 
 Jcil. There's no need of foar, 
 Whore there's no cause of rescue. What's the 
 matter ? 
 Virginia. O my Icilius, your incredulity 
 Hatli quite undone mo I I am now no more 
 Virginius's daugiitor, so this villain urges, 
 Ihit publish'd for his bondwom ui. 
 
 A'lim. How's fliis? 
 
 * utf] i.e. UM. 
 
APPIUS AND VIRGINLA.. 
 
 3 05 
 
 3Ia>: Claud. 'Tis ti-ue, my lord, and I will take 
 my right 
 By course of law. 
 
 Icil. Villains, set her free, 
 Or, by the power of all our Roman gods, 
 I'll give that just revenge unto my rage 
 Which should be given to justice ! Bondwoman ! 
 Mar. Claud. Su-, we do not come [here] to fight; 
 we'll deal 
 By course of law. 
 
 Snter Appits CiAtTDros. 
 
 My lord, we fear a rescue. 
 App. Claud. A rescue ! never fear't ; here's 
 none in presence 
 But civil men. — My lord, I am glad to see you. — 
 Noble Icilius, we shall ever love you. — 
 Now, gentlemen, reach your petitions. 
 
 Icil. My lord, my lord, 
 
 App. Claud. Worthy Icilius, 
 If you have any business, defer't 
 Until to-mon-ow or the afternoon : 
 I shall be proud to pleasure you. 
 
 Icil. The fox 
 Is earth'd, my lord, you cannot wind him yet. 
 App. Claud. Stools for my noble friends ! — I 
 pray you, sit. 
 
 Mar. Claud. May it please your lordship, 
 
 App. Claud. Why, irncivU sir, 
 Have I not begg'd forbearance of my best 
 And dearest friends, and must you trouble me ] 
 Mar. Claud. My lord, I must be heard, and will 
 be heard : 
 Were all the gods in parliament, I'd burst 
 Their silence with my importunity. 
 But they should hear me. 
 
 App. Claud. The fellow 's mad. — 
 "We have no leisui-e now to hear you, sir. 
 
 Mar. Claud. Hast now no leisure to hear just 
 complaints ? 
 Resign thy place, Appius, that some other 
 May do me justice, then ! 
 
 App. Claud. We'll hear 't to-morrow. 
 Mar. Claud. my lord. 
 Deny me justice absolutely, rather 
 Than feed me with delays. 
 
 Icil. Good my lord, hear him ; 
 And wonder when you hear him, that a case 
 So full of vile imposture should desu-e 
 To be unfolded. 
 
 Mar. Claud. Ay, my lord, 'tis true ; 
 The imposture is on their parts. 
 
 App. Claud. Hold your prating. — 
 Away with him to prison, clamorous fellow ! — 
 Suspect you our uprightness ? 
 
 Mar. Claud. No, my lord ; 
 But I have mighty enemies, my lord. 
 Will overflow my cause. See, here I hold 
 My bondwoman, that brags herself to be 
 Descended of a noble family. 
 My purse is too scant to wage law with them : 
 I am enforc'd be mine own advocate, 
 Xot one wUl plead for me. Now, if your lordship 
 Will do me justice, so ; if not, then know 
 High hills are safe, when seas poor dales o'erflow. 
 App. Claud. Sirrah, I think it fit to let you know, 
 Ere you proceed iu this your subtle suit. 
 What penalty and danger you accrue. 
 If you be found to double. Here's a vu-gin 
 Famous by bu'th, by education noble ; 
 And she, forsooth, haply* but to draw 
 Some piece of money from her worthy father. 
 Must needs be challeng'd for a bondwoman. 
 Sirrah, take heed, and well bethink yourself: 
 I'll make you a precedent to all the world, 
 If I but find you tripping. 
 
 Mar. Claud. Do it freely : 
 And view on that condition these just proofs. 
 
 [Gives papers to Appics Claudius. 
 App. Claud. Is that the virgin's nurse 1 
 Nurse. Her milch-nurse, my lord : I had a sore 
 hand with her for a year and a quarter : I have 
 had somewhat to do with her since, too, for the 
 poor gentlewoman hath been so troubled with 
 the green sickness. 
 
 Icil. I pray thee, nurse, entreat Sertorius 
 To come and speak with me. [Exit Nurse. 
 
 App. Claud. Here is strange cii'cumstance; view 
 it, my lord : 
 If he should prove this, it would make Tirginius 
 Think he were wrong' d. 
 
 Icil. There is a devilish cunning 
 Express'd in this black forgery. 
 
 App. Claud. IcUiusaud Virginia, pray come near. 
 Compound with this base fellow : you were better 
 Disburse some trifle, than to imdergo 
 The question of her freedom. 
 
 Icil. my lord. 
 She were not worth a handful of a bribe. 
 If she did need a bribe ! 
 
 App. Claud. Nay, take your course ; 
 I only give you my opinion, 
 I ask no fee for 't. — Do you know this fellow \ 
 Virginia. Yes, my lord ; he's your servant. 
 App. Claud. You're i'the right : 
 But will you truly know his character 1 
 He was at first a petty notary ; 
 
 * Tiaply] Even if we substitute "happUy" (as the word 
 was often written), the line still halts. 
 
166 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 A fellow that, being trusted with large Bunu 
 
 Of honest citizens, to bo employ'd 
 
 I' the trade of usurj*. — this gentleman, 
 
 Couching his credit like a tilting-staff 
 
 Most cunningly, it brake, and at one course 
 
 He ran away with thirty thousand pound : 
 
 Ilcturning to the city seven year after, 
 
 Having compounded with his creditors 
 
 For the third moiety, he buys an office 
 
 Belonging to our place, depends on us ; 
 
 In which the oppression and vile injuries 
 
 He hath done poor suitors, they have cause to rue, 
 
 And I to jiity : he hath sold his smiles 
 
 For silver, but his promises for gold ; 
 
 His delays have undone men. 
 
 The plague that in some folded cloud remains. 
 
 The bright sun soon disperseth ; but observe, 
 
 When black infection in some dunghill lies, 
 
 There's work for bells and graves, if it do rise. 
 
 Aum. He was an ill i)rop to your house, my lord. 
 
 App. Claud. 'Tis true, my lord : but we that have 
 such servants 
 Are like to cuckolds that have riotous wives ; 
 Wo are the last that know it : this is it 
 Makes noblemen suspected * to have done ill. 
 When tlie oppression lies in their proud followers. 
 
 3/or. Claud. My lord, it was some soothing syco- 
 phant. 
 Some base detracting rascal, that hath spread 
 This falsehood in your ears. 
 
 App. Claud. Peace, impudence ! 
 Did I not yesterday, no longer since, ] 
 Surprise thee in thy study counterfeiting 
 Our hand ? 
 
 Mar. Claud. 'Tia true, my lord. 
 
 App. Claud. Being subscrib'd 
 Unto a letter fiU'd with amorous stuff 
 Unto this la<ly] 
 
 Mar. Claud. I have a«k'd yftur panlon, 
 And gnvo you reiuion why I was so bold 
 To u»o tliat forgery. 
 
 App. Claud. Did you receive it? 
 
 yinjinia. I did, my lord, and I can show your 
 lordithip 
 A pticki-t of micli lottem. 
 
 App. Claud. Now, by the god«, 
 I'll mukn you rue it ! 1 boKeoch you, sir, 
 Kbow Uieni tho rcoNon niov'd you countorfoit 
 Our IclUr. 
 
 lfH/»rMriiT<i|iifH. t 
 Mar. aau4l. Sir. I ha.1 no other colour 
 To come Ut apitak with hnr. 
 
 • tmtp,nt.i\ Tho autliur jirulialily wrt>i« "raipeet" 
 I HiUrr Ikriunui] Tbo old co|.y, •' Knlfr t'oUritu . 
 
 App. Claud. A goodly reason ! 
 Did you until this hour acquaint the lady 
 With your intended suit ? 
 
 Mar. Claud. At several times; 
 And would have drawn her by some privatv 
 
 course 
 To have compounded for her liberty. 
 
 Virginia. Now, by a virgin's honour and true 
 birth, 
 'Tis false, my lord ! I never had a dream 
 So terrible as is this monstrous devil. 
 
 Apj}, Claud. Well, sir, referring my particular 
 wrong 
 To a particular censure, I would know 
 What is your suit ? 
 
 Mar. Claud. My lord, a speedy trial. 
 
 App. Claud. You shall obtaiu'twith all severity : 
 I will not give you longer time to dream 
 Upon new sleights to cloak your forgery. — 
 Observe j'ou tiiis chameleon, my lonls, 
 I'll make him change his colour presently. 
 
 Num. My lord, although the uprightness of ou r 
 cause 
 Xeeds no delays, yet for tho satisfiiction 
 Of old Virginius, let him be present 
 When we shall crave a trial. 
 
 Aj^p. Claud. Sir, it needs not : 
 AVho stands for father of the innocent, 
 If not the judge ? I'll save the poor old man 
 That needless travel. 
 
 Virgiriia. With your favour, sir. 
 Wo must entreat some respite in a business 
 So needful of his presence. 
 
 App. Claud. I do protest 
 You wrong yourselves thus to importune it 
 Well, let it bo to-morrow : I'll not sleep 
 Till I have made this thicket a smooth plain. 
 And given you your true honour back again. 
 
 Icil. My lord, the distance 't\vixt the auup an<l 
 us 
 Cannot be moa-sur'd in so short a time : 
 Lot us have four days* respite. 
 
 A}>)i. Claud. You nro unwise; 
 Uumuur by tiiat timo will have fully spread 
 The scandal, which, being ended in one hour. 
 Will turn to air : to morrow is tho trial : 
 In tho mean time lot all contented thoughts 
 .\ttend you. 
 
 Mar. Claud. My lord, you deal unjustly 
 Thus to dismiss her; this is that they sock for: 
 U<foro to-morrow they'll convoy her hence, 
 Where my claim shall not soiM ber. 
 
 I 
 
 but Srrioriut wiw tlio iicni<m hoiiI for by Icllliis ; and mo 
 towanl* tho cliioc "f thl* iicono. 
 
SCENE irr. 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 ler 
 
 Ajyp. Claud. Cunning knave ! 
 You would have bond foi* her appearance 1 say. 
 
 Mar. Claud. I think the motion 's honest. 
 
 App. Claud. Veiy good. 
 Icilius shall engage his honour'd word 
 For her appearance. 
 
 Mar. Claud. As you please, my lord ; 
 But it were fitting her old uncle there 
 Were jointly bound with him. 
 
 App. Claud. Well, sir, your pleasure 
 Shall have satiety. You'll take our word 
 For her appearance ; will you not, sir, I pray 1 
 
 Mar. Claud. Most willingly, my lord. 
 
 App. Claud. Then, sir, you have it : 
 And i'the mean time I'll take the honour'd lady 
 Into my guardianship ; and, by my life, 
 I'll use her in all kisdness as my wife, 
 
 Icil. Now, by the gods, you shall not ! 
 
 Afp. Claud. Shall not, what? 
 
 Icil. Not use her as youi* wife, sir. 
 
 App. Claud. my lord, 
 I spake it from my heart. 
 
 Icil. Ay, very likely. 
 She is a virgin, sir, and must not lie 
 Under a man's forthcoming ; do you mark ? 
 Not under your forthcoming, lecherous Appius. 
 
 App. Claud. Mistake me not, my lord. — Om* 
 secretary 
 Take bonds for the appearance of this lady. — 
 And now to you, sir : you that were my servant, 
 I here cashier you ; never shalt thou shroud 
 Thy villanies under our noble roof, 
 Nor scape the whip or the fell hangman's hook 
 By warrant of our favour. 
 
 Mar. Claud. So, my lord, 
 I am more free to serve the gods, I hope. 
 Now I have lost your service. 
 
 ApTp. Claud. Hark you, siiTah, 
 Who shall give bonds for your appearance, ha, 
 To justify your claim ? 
 
 Mar, Claud. I have none, my lord. 
 
 App. Claud. Away ! — Commit him prisoner to 
 his chamber. — 
 I'll keep you safe from starting. 
 
 Mar. Claud. Why, my lord, — 
 
 App. Claud. Away ! I will not hear you : 
 A judge's heart here in the midst must stand, 
 And move not a hair's breadth to either hand. 
 
 [Exeunt Appirs CLArDirs, Marcus Claudius, 
 and Lictors. 
 
 Num. 0, were thy heart but of the self-same piece 
 Thy tongue is, Appius, how bless'd were Rome ! 
 
 Icil. Post to the camp, Sertorius : thou hast heard 
 The effect of all ; relate it to Virginius : 
 
 I pray thee, use thy ablest horsemanship, 
 For it concerns us near. 
 
 Sert. I go, my lord. [E.):it. 
 
 Icil. Sure, all this is damn'd cunning. 
 
 Virginia. my lord, 
 Seamen in tempests shun the flattering shore ; 
 To bear full sails upon 't were danger more : 
 So men o'erborne with greatness still hold dread 
 False seeming fiiends that on theu- bosoms 
 
 spread ; 
 For this is a safe truth which never varies. 
 He that strikes all his sails seldom miscarries. 
 
 Icil. Must we be slaves both to a tyi-ants wUl,* 
 And [to] confounding ignorance at once? 
 Where are we 1 in a mist ? or is this hell 1 
 I have seen as great as the proud judge have fell : 
 The bending willow, yielding to each wind, 
 Shall keep his rooting firm, when the proud oak, 
 Braving the storm, pi-esuming on his root. 
 Shall have his body rent from head to foot. 
 Let us expect the worst that may befal. 
 And with a noble confidence bear all. \_E.xeunt. 
 
 SCENE III.+ 
 
 Enter Appius Claudius, Makcus Claudius, and a 
 Servant. 
 
 App. Claud. Here, bear this packet to Minutiua, 
 And privately deliver 't : make as much speed 
 As if thy father were deceas'd i'the camp. 
 And that thou went'st to take the administration 
 Of what he left thee. Fly ! 
 
 Serv. I go, my lord. \_E.cit. 
 
 App. Claud. my trusty Claudius ! 
 
 Mar. Claud. My dear lord. 
 Let me adore your divine policy. 
 You have poison'd them with sweatmeats; you 
 
 have, my lord. 
 But what contain those letters? 
 
 * Must ice he slaves both to a tyrant's will, Ac] The 
 Rev. J. Mitford (6tnt. Mag. for June 1833, p. 491) thinks 
 that the whole of this speech ought to be in rhyme, and 
 accordingly would read, — 
 
 " Must we be slaves both to a tyi-ant's will, 
 And confounding ignorance at once of ill ? 
 
 The bending willow yielding to each stroke," &c. 
 But I believe that the old copy gives here the very 
 words of the author, except that it omits "to" in the 
 second line; speeches partly blank verse and partly 
 prose being not uncommon in our early dramatists : 
 and the impropriety of the alteration " each stroke " is 
 evinced by what follows, — "Braving the storm." 
 
 t Scene III.] The same. A room in the house of 
 Appius. 
 
168 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 App. Claud. Much importance. 
 Minutius is commanded by that packet 
 To hold Virgiuius prisoner in the camp 
 On some suspect of treason. 
 
 Mar. Claud. But, my lord, 
 How will you answer this ? 
 
 App. Claud. Tush, any fault 
 Or shadow of a crime will be sufficient 
 For his committing : thus, when he is absent, 
 We shall in a more calm and friendly sea 
 Sail to our purpose. 
 
 Mar. Claud. Mercury himself 
 Could not direct more safely. 
 
 App. Claud. my Claudius, 
 Observe this rule, — one ill must cure another; 
 As aconitum,* a sti-ong poison, brings 
 A present cure against all serpents' stings. 
 In high attempts the soul hath infinite eyes, 
 And 'tis necessity makes men most wise. 
 Should I miscarry in this desperate plot. 
 This of my fate in aftertimes be spoken, 
 I'll break that with my weight on which I am 
 broken. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IV.t 
 
 EnttT, from, one liile. Two Serviiigrocn ; from, the oilier, 
 O^RBil^i, Ute Cioicn, vuUxncholy. 
 
 Pint Strv. Why, how now, Corbulo ! thou 
 wast nut wont to be of this sad temper. What's 
 the matter now! 
 
 Corb. Times change, and seasons alter, 
 Some men are boru to the bench, and some to 
 
 the halter. 
 Wiiat do you think now that I am ? 
 
 Pint Serv. I think thee to be Virginia's man, 
 and Corbulo. 
 
 Corb. No, no xuch matter : guess again : tell 
 me but what I am, or what manner of fellow you 
 imagine mu to bo. 
 
 Pint Serv. I take thee tu bo an honest good 
 follow, 
 
 Corb. Wide of the bow-haud ^ still: Corbulo ia 
 no aucb man. 
 
 Sec Serv. What art thou, tbant 
 
 * At a«mUum, kc.\ C<>iii|iaro lion Juiuiuii, whufulluwa 
 rilii. Sal. tliH. XKvli. a ; 
 
 " I Imva lininl lltkt loonltA, 
 lioliitt Uinoly Ukaii, Imlli n liouJliitf mlirlit 
 Ajfaitiat the •oori'lnii'* atr ' '" (fivo, 
 
 Tlial, wlillo Iwru (lulatiiia \\ : 
 
 .-. 3. 
 » ■ ■ 
 
 : < il>ly Ui tho Ian uf 
 
 '•'■ .,■••■■• i.«»«M iioiii luvhory. 
 
 Corb. Listen, and I'll describe myself to you ; 
 I am something better than a knave, and yet come 
 short of being an honest man ; and though I can 
 sing a treble, yet am accounted but as one of tin 
 base, being, indeed, and, as the case stands with 
 me at this present, inferior to a rogue, and threu 
 degrees woree than a rascaL 
 
 First, Sei-v. How comes this to pass ? 
 
 Corb. Only by my service's success. Take heed 
 whom you serve, you serving creatures ! for this 
 is all I have got by serving my lady Virginia. 
 
 Sec. Serv. Why, what of her ] 
 
 Corb. She is not the woman you take her t ■ 
 be ; for though she have borrowed no money, yet 
 she is entered into bonds ; and though j-ou may 
 think her a woman not sufficient, yet 'tis very 
 like her bond will be taken. The truth is, she 
 is challenged to be a bondwoman : now, if she be 
 a bondwoman and a slave, and I her seryant and 
 vassal, what do* you take me to be? I am an 
 ant, a gnat, a worm; a woodcock amongst birds; 
 a hodmondod amongst files ; amongst curs a 
 trindlctale, and amongst fishes a poor iper ; but, 
 amongst serving-men, worse, woi-se than the man's 
 man to the underyeoman-fewterer.+ 
 
 First Serv. But is it possible thy lady is chal- 
 lenged to be a slave ? What witness have they ? 
 
 Corb. Witness these fountains, these flood- 
 gates, these well-springs : the poor gentlewoman 
 was arrested in the open market : I offered, I 
 offered to bail her; but (though she was) I could 
 not bo taken. The grief hath gone so near my 
 heart that, until I be made free, I shall never 
 be mine own man. The Lord Appius hath com- 
 mitted her to ward, and it is thought she shall 
 neither lie on the Knight-side, nor in tho Two- 
 penny-ward ; J for if ho may have his will of her, 
 ho means to put her in the Hole. His warrant 
 hath been out for her ; but how the case stiuida 
 with him, or how matters will be taken up with 
 her, 'tis yet uncertain. 
 
 Sec. Serv. When shall tho trial bo ? 
 
 Corb. I take it to bo as soon as the morning ia 
 brouglit abed of a new son and heir. 
 
 Sec. Serv. And when ia that ? 
 
 Corb. AVhy, to-morrow ; for every morning. 
 
 • (foj Tho old copy " did." 
 
 t yromtin/nrlrrfr] Wan tho jwrnon immediately tiiidcr 
 tho hinitKiiinn. whi> \vd nut i\ii<l let IcHtiia tho (hv" '" tho 
 chn' * Is fViim tho Frciicli mttrtrr. 
 
 : rj] oia ctijiy '• 1 ■ I'lio 
 
 Kii ^ iho Mnjttcr"» Wanl. t . H'.n--'. 
 
 Mitl llio lloli', vs'(<ro tho fnur |irlaiiu-<livii«ioiiii >ir niiJrH. 
 Hoc • ciirlouii dcavripUim of them in Fonnor'a Comjtirr't 
 OtmtmontKtUtli, lOlT. 
 
SCENE I. 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 169 
 
 you know, brings forth a new sun : but they are 
 all short-lived ; for every night she drowns them 
 in the western sea. But to leave these enigmas 
 as too high for your dull apprehensions, shall I 
 see you at the trial to-morrow ? 
 
 First. Serv, By Jove's help I'll be there. 
 
 Sec. Serv. And I, if I live. 
 
 Corb. And I, if I die for't : here's my hand, 
 I'll meet you. It is thought my old master 
 will be there at the bar; for though all the 
 timber of his house yet stand, yet my Lord 
 
 Numitorius hath sent one of his posts to the 
 camp to bid him spur, cut, and come to the sen- 
 tence. 0, we have a house at home as heavy as 
 if it were covered with lead ! But you will 
 remember to be there. 
 
 Fii'st Serv. And not to fail. 
 
 Cori. If I chance to meet you there, and that 
 the case go against us, I will give you a quart, 
 not of wine, but of tears ; for, instead of a new 
 roll, I purpose to break my fast with sops of 
 sorrow. {Exeunt. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 SCENE I.* 
 Enter Virginius like a slave, Numitorius, Icilitjs, Vale- 
 rius, HoRATius, Virginia like a slave, Julia, Cal- 
 PHURNIA, and Nurse. 
 
 Virginius. Thanks to my noble friends ; it now 
 
 appears 
 That you have rather lov'd me tlian my foi'tune. 
 For that's near shipwi-eck'd : chance, you see, 
 
 still ranges, 
 And this short dance of life is full of changes. 
 Appius — how hollow that name sounds, how 
 
 dreadful ! 
 It is a question whether the proud lecher 
 "Will view us to our merit ; for they say 
 His memoi'y to virtue and good men 
 Is still carousing Lethe. the gods ! 
 Not with more terror do the souls in hell 
 Appear before the seat of Rhadamant 
 Than the poor client yonder. 
 
 [^Poiniing to the tribunal. 
 
 Num. Vii'ginius, 
 Why do you wear this habit 1 it ill fits 
 Your noble person or this reverend place. 
 
 Virginius. That's true, old man; but it well 
 fits the case 
 That's now in question. If with form and show 
 They prove her slav'd, all freedom I'll forego. 
 
 Icil. Noble Virginius, 
 Put out a bold and confident defence ; 
 Search the imposture, like a cunning trier ; 
 False metals bear the touch, but brook not 
 
 fire, — 
 Their brittleness betrays them : let your breath 
 Discover as much shame in them as death 
 Did e'er draw from offenders : let your truth 
 
 * Scene 1.] Rome. Before the tnbunal of Appius. 
 
 Nobly supported, void of fear or art, 
 Welcome whatever comes with a great heart. 
 Virginius. Now, by the gods, I thank thee, 
 noble youth ! 
 I never fear'd in a besieged town 
 Mines or great engines like yon lawyer's gown. 
 Virginia. O my dear lord and father ! once you 
 gave me 
 A noble freedom : do not see it lost 
 Without a forfeit ; take the life you gave me, 
 And sacrifice it rather to the gods 
 Than to a villain's lust. Happy the wretch 
 Who, born in bondage, lives and dies a slave, 
 And sees no lustful projects bent upon her, 
 And neither knows the life nor death of 
 honour. 
 Icil. We have neither justice, no, nor violence, 
 Which should reform corruption, sufficient 
 To cross their black premeditated doom. 
 Appius will seize her : all the fire in hell 
 Is leap'd into his bosom. 
 Virginius. you gods, 
 Extinguish it with your compassionate tears, 
 Although you make a second deluge spread, 
 And swell more high than Teneriffs high head ! 
 Have not the wars heap'd snow sufiScieut 
 Upon this aged head, but they will still 
 Pile winter upon winter 1 
 
 Biter Appius Claudius, Oppius, Mabcus Claudius, Six 
 Senators, Advocate, and Lictors. 
 
 App. Claud. Is he come, say? — 
 Now, by my life, 111 quit the general. 
 Num. Your reverence to the judge, good 
 
 brother. 
 Virginius. Yes, sir, I have learnt my compli- 
 ment thus : 
 
170 
 
 APPITJS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Blese'd mean estates who stand in fear of many, 
 And great arc curs'd for that they fear not any. 
 
 App. Claud. What, is Virginius come? 
 
 Viiffinius. I am here, my lord. 
 
 App. Claud. Where is your daughter? 
 
 N^um. Here, my reverend lord. — 
 [To Virginia.] Your habit shows you strangely. 
 
 Virginia. 0, 'tis fit ; 
 It suits both time and cause. Pray, pardon it. 
 
 App. Claud. Where is your advocate.* 
 
 Vifffiniut. I have none, my lord ; 
 Truth needs no advocate : the unjust cause 
 Buys up the tongues that travel with applause 
 In these your thronged courts : I want not any, 
 And count him the most wretched that needs 
 many. 
 
 Adv. May it please your reverend lordships, — 
 
 App. Claud. What are you, sir ? 
 
 Adv. Of counsel with my client, Marcus 
 Claudius. 
 
 Virginius. My lord, I undertake a desperate 
 combat 
 To cope with this most eloquent lawyer : 
 I have no skill i' the weapon, good my lord ; 
 I mean I am not travell'd in your laws : 
 My suit is therefore, by your special goodness, 
 They be not wrested against me. 
 
 App. Claud. Virgiuius, 
 Tl»o gods defend* they should ! 
 
 Virginiuj. Your humble servant shall evert 
 pray for you. 
 Tluia shall your glorj* bo above your place. 
 Or thoMu high titles which you hold in court; 
 For they die bless'd tliat die in good report. — 
 Now, sir. I stand you. 
 
 Adv. Then have at you, sir! — 
 May it plcaae your lordships, here is such a case, 
 So full of Hubtkty, and, as it were, 
 B<j far benighted in an ignorant mist, 
 Tliat thougii my reading be Bufficient, 
 My jinu-tico uwTO, I never was entangled 
 In llio like purse nct.J Hero is one that claims 
 Thin wiinian for his daughter : here's auotiior 
 AfiirniH she is hi« bund slave : now the <iuc«tion 
 (With favour of tlio bonch) I shall make plain 
 lu two wonU only without circumMtiuico. 
 
 App. Claud. I'nll to your proofs. 
 
 Adv. \V hero arti our |tn|)ont ? 
 
 Mar. Claud. Here, sir. 
 
 Adv. Whora, nir ' 1 vow you're tho most tedious 
 olimt 
 
 lie. ri.r».l.l. 
 t) Qy. ••f»»r»AoH"T 
 : / yr« M«| Hoe iioto •, p. |;io. 
 
 Now we come to 't, my lord. Thus stands the case : 
 The law Is clear on our sides. — 
 
 Hold your prating. 
 
 [roJlABCCS CLACDICS. 
 
 That honourable lord, Virginius, 
 Having been married about fifteen year, 
 And issueless, this virgin's politic mother. 
 Seeing the land was likely to descend 
 To Numitorius. — I pray, sir, listen ; 
 You, my Lord Numitorius, attend; 
 We are on your side, — old Virginius 
 Employ'd in foreign wars, she sends him word 
 She was with child ; observe it, I beseech you. 
 And note the trick of a deceitful woman : 
 She in the mean time feigns the passions 
 Of a great-bellied woman; counterfeits 
 Their passions and their qualms ; and verily 
 All Rome held this for no imposturous stufl". 
 What's to be done now ? Here's a rumour spread 
 Of a young heir, gods bless it ! and [a] belly 
 Bombasted with a cushion : but there wants 
 (What wants there ?) nothing but a pretty babe, 
 Bought with some piece of money, where it skills 
 
 not. 
 To furnish this supposed lying-in. 
 
 Aurse. I protest, my lord, tho fellow i' the 
 nightcap 
 Hath not spoke one true word yet. 
 
 App. Claud. Hold you your prating, woman, 
 till you are call'd. 
 
 Adv. 'Tis purchas'd. AMiere? From this man's 
 bondwoman ; 
 The money paid : — [To Marcus Claudius.] what 
 was the sum of money ? 
 
 Mar. Claud. A thousand drachmas. 
 
 Adv. Good; a thousand drachma.''. 
 
 App. Claud. Where is that bondwoman f 
 
 Mar. Claud. She's dead, my lord. 
 
 App. Claud. 0, dead ; that makes your cause 
 suspicious. 
 
 A dv. But here's her deposition on her death-bed. 
 With other testimony to confirm 
 What wo have said is true. Will 't please your 
 
 lordship 
 Take pains to view those writings? Here, my 
 
 lord :— 
 We shall not need to hold your lordalups long ; 
 We'll make short work on't 
 
 Virginius. My lord, 
 
 App. Claud. By your favour. — 
 If that your claim be jiist, how happens it 
 Tliat you have iliscontinu'd it tho space 
 Of fourteen years I 
 
 Adv. I shall resolve your lordship. 
 
SCENE I. 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 in 
 
 Icil. I vow this is a practis'd dialogue : 
 Comes it not rarely off? 
 
 Virginius. Peace ; give them leave. 
 
 Adv. 'Tis very true : this gentleman at first 
 Thought to conceal this accident, and did so ; 
 Only reveal'd his knowledge to the mother 
 Of this fair bondwoman, who bought his silence, 
 During her lifetime, with great sums of coin. 
 
 App. Claud. Where are your proofs of that 1 
 
 Adv. Here, my good lord, 
 With depositions likewise. 
 
 App. Claud. Well, go on. 
 
 Adv. For your question 
 Of discontinuance : put case my slave ' 
 Run away from me, dwell in some near city 
 The space of twenty years, and there grow rich. 
 It is in my discretion, by your favour, 
 To seize him when I please. 
 
 App. Claud. That's very true. 
 
 Virginia. Cast not your nobler beams, you 
 reverend judges, 
 On such a putrefied dunghill. 
 
 App. Claud. By your favour; you shall be 
 heard anon. 
 
 Virginius. My lords, believe not this spruce 
 orator : 
 Had I but fee'd him first, he would have told 
 As smooth a tale on our side. 
 
 App. Claud. Give us leave. 
 
 Virginius. He deals in formal glosses, cunning 
 
 And cares not greatly which way the case goes. 
 Examine, I beseech you, this old woman, 
 Who is the truest witness of her birth. 
 
 App. Claud. Soft, you ! is she your only witness ? 
 
 Virginius. She is, my lord. 
 
 App. Claud. Why, is it possible 
 Such a great lady, in her time of child-birth, 
 Should have no other witness but a nurse] 
 
 Virginius. For aught I know, the rest are dead, 
 my lord. 
 
 App. Claud. Dead ! no, my lord ; belike they 
 were of counsel 
 With your deceased lady, and so sham'd 
 Twice to give colour to so vile an act. — 
 Thou, nurse, observe me : thy offence already 
 Doth merit punishment beyond our censure ; 
 Pull not more whips upon thee. 
 
 Nurse. I defy your whips, my lord. 
 
 App. Claud. Command her silence, Lictors. 
 
 Virginius. injustice ! 
 You frown away my witness : is this law? 
 Is this uprightness ? 
 
 App. Claud. Have you view'd the wiitings? 
 
 This is a trick to make our slaves our heirs 
 Beyond prevention. 
 
 Virginius. Appius, wilt thou hear me 1 
 You have slander'd a sweet lady that now sleeps 
 In a most noble monument. Observe me, 
 I would have ta'en her simple word to gage 
 Before his soul or thine. 
 
 App. Claud. That makes thee wretched. 
 Old man, I am sorry for thee that thy love 
 By custom is grown natural, which by nature 
 Should be an absolute loathing : note the sparrow. 
 That having hatch'd a cuckoo, when it sees 
 Her brood a monster to her proper kind. 
 Forsakes it, and with more fear shuns the nest, 
 Thau she had care i' the spring to have it dress'd. 
 Cast thy affection, then, behind thy back. 
 And think 
 
 Adv. Be wise; take counsel of your friends. 
 You have many soldiers in their time of service 
 Father strange children. 
 
 Virginius. True ; and pleaders too, 
 When they are sent to visit provinces. 
 You, my most neat and cunning orator. 
 Whose tongue is quicksilver, pray thee, good 
 
 Janus, 
 Look not so many several ways at once. 
 But go to the point. 
 
 Adv. I will; and keep you out 
 At point's end, though I am no soldier. 
 
 App. Claud. First, the oath of the deceased 
 bondwoman, — 
 
 Adv. A very virtuous matron. 
 
 App. Claud. Join'd with the testimony of 
 Claudius, — 
 
 Adv. A most approved honest gentleman. 
 
 App. Claud. Besides, sis. other honest gentle- 
 men, — 
 
 Adv. All knights; and there's no question but 
 their oaths 
 Will go for current. 
 
 App. Claud. See, my reverend lords. 
 And wonder at a case so evident. 
 
 Virginius. My lord, I knew it. 
 
 Adv. Observe, my lord, how their own policy 
 Confounds them. Had your lordship yesterday 
 Proceeded, as 'twas fit, to a just sentence, 
 The apparel and the jewels that she wore. 
 More worth than all her tribe, *had then been due 
 
 * Tlie apparel and the jewels that she wore, 
 More worth than all her trihe] Reads like a recollection 
 of Sliakespearc ; 
 
 "Whose hand 
 Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away. 
 Richer than all his tribe." 
 
 Othello, act v, sc. 2. 
 
172 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 Unto our client : now, to cozen him 
 
 Of such a forfeit, see, they bring the maid 
 
 In her most proper habit, bondslave-like. 
 
 And they will save by the hand too. — Please your 
 
 lordships, 
 I crave a sentence. 
 
 Virginitu. Appius, — 
 
 Virr/inia. My lord, — 
 
 Icil. Lord Appius, — 
 
 Virginius. Now, by the gods, here's juggling ! 
 
 Num. AVho cannot counterfeit a dead man's 
 hand ? 
 
 Virginius. Or hire some villains to swear 
 for^j'crics ! 
 
 Icil. Claudius was brought up in your house, 
 my lord, 
 And that 's suKpicious. 
 
 Num. How is 't probable 
 That our wife being present at the child-birth, 
 Whom this did nearest concern, should ne'er 
 reveal it ? 
 
 Virginiui. Or if ours dealt thus cunningly, how 
 haps it 
 Her policy, as you term it, did not rather 
 Provide an issue male to cheer the father? 
 
 Adv. I'll answer each particular. 
 
 App. Claud. It needs not ; 
 Here's witnesH, most sufficient witness. — 
 Think you, my lord, our laws are writ in snow, 
 And that your breath can melt them ? 
 
 Virginiut. No, my lord, 
 We have not such hot livers * : mark you that. 
 
 Virginia. Kenieinbor yet the gods, Appius, 
 Who have no part in this ! Thy violent lust 
 Shall, like the biting of the cnvenom'd aspic. 
 Steal thee to hell. So subtle are thy evils, 
 In lifts they'll socni good angels, in death devils. 
 
 App. Claud. Ubservo you not this scandal .' 
 
 Icil. Sir, 'tin none : 
 I'll Bhow thy letters full of violent lust 
 Sunt to this lady. 
 
 A}>p. Claud. Wilt thou breathe a lie 
 Kor« ituch a roveroud audience ) 
 
 JciL That place 
 In Ninctuary to thee. Lie ! boo, horo they are. 
 
 App. Claud. My lords, thciw are but dilatory 
 nhifU.- 
 8irr«h, I know you to tlio very heart, 
 And I'll ((biiorve yotL 
 
 Icil, l)o, but ilo it with justico. 
 Clew UiyHoir tint, O Api.luH. cro thou judRO 
 
 • turt, t,ot hrrr,\ " |i, i,lU,«i»h I,, iho limtliil iiiollva by 
 whWih A|>trf(M WM luniMht'wl : the llvor boliiK thou ■ii|»- 
 1 U»o Mai of the •muruiu imumIuiu." KiUlor trf 1810. 
 
 Our imperfections rashly ; for we wot 
 The oflBce of justice is perverted quite, 
 When one thief hangs another.* 
 
 Pirtt Sen. You arc too bold. 
 
 App. Claud. Lictors, take charge of him. 
 
 [Ttity teiu Iciui >. 
 
 Icil. 'Tis very good. 
 Will no man view these papers ? What, not one 1 
 Jove, thou hast found a rival upon earth : — 
 His nod strikes all men dumb. — My duty to you! 
 The ass that carried Isis on his back 
 Thought that the superstitious people kneel'd 
 To give his dulness humble reverence : 
 If thou tliink'st so, proud judge, I let thee see 
 I bend low to thy gown, but not to thee. 
 
 Virginius. There's one in hold already. — Noble 
 youth, 
 Fetters grace one, being worn for speaking truth : 
 I'll lie with thee, I swear, though in a dungeon. — 
 [7*0 Apr.] The injuries you do us we shall pardon ; 
 But it is just the wrongs which we forgive. 
 The gods are cbarg'd therewith to see reveng'd. 
 
 App. Claud. Come, you're a proud plebeian. 
 
 Virginius. True, my lord ; 
 Proud in the glory of my ancestors, 
 A^lio h.ave continu'd these eight hundred years : 
 The heralds have not known you these eight 
 months. 
 
 App. Claud. Your madness wrongs you : bv 
 my soul, I love you. 
 
 Virginius. Thy soul ! — 
 0, thy opinidn, old Pythagoras ! — 
 Whither, 0, whither should thy black soul : !} 
 Into what ravenous bird or beast most vile? 
 Only into a weejiiug crocodile. 
 Love me ! 
 
 Thou lov'st me, Appius, as the earth loves rain ; 
 Thou fain wouldst swidlow me. 
 
 A]>p. Claud. Know you the place you speak in 
 
 Virginius. I'll speak freclj'. 
 Good men, too nnioh trusting their innocence, 
 Do not betake them to that just dofeuce 
 Which gods and nature gave them; but oven 
 
 wink 
 In the black tempest, and so fondly f sink. 
 
 Ai>p. Claud. Let us proceed to sontenco. 
 
 Virginius. Kre you speak, 
 One parting farewell lot mo borrow of you 
 To take of my Virginia. 
 
 App. Claud. Now, my lords, 
 
 • Tht ofWiY tif iuMtice i, fxrrrrini qvilf, 
 
 '■ ' <ii,i>ll„r] Hum oiTiirfCil l>ofiiro, 111 
 
 T^' :'ii IKmo tlio old copy liiw I'.v 
 
 tnUl . : .1 .liiHli.o," Ao. 
 
 t /oHdiyJ J. «. liH)IUhly. 
 
SCENE II. 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 173 
 
 We shall have fair confession of the truth. — ■ 
 Pray, take your course. 
 
 Virginius. Farewell, my sweet Virginia : never, 
 never 
 : Shall I taste fruit of the most blessed hope 
 ' I had in thee. Let me forget the thought 
 Of thy most pretty infancy ; when first 
 Eeturning from the wars, I took delight 
 To rock thee in my target ; when my girl 
 Would kiss her father in his burganet 
 Of glittering steel hung 'bout his arm^d neck, 
 And, viewing the bright metal, smile to see 
 Another fair Virginia smile on thee ; 
 When I first taught thee how to go, to speak ; 
 And when my woiinds have smarted, I have sung . 
 With an unskilful, yet a willing voice. 
 To bring my girl asleep. my Virginia, 
 When we begun to be, begun our woes, 
 Increasing still, as dying life still grows ! 
 
 App. Claud. This tediousness doth much offend 
 the court. 
 Silence ! attend her sentence. 
 
 Virginius. Hold ! without sentence I'll resign 
 her freely, 
 Since you will prove her to be none of mine. 
 App. Claud. See, see, how evidently truth 
 appears. — - 
 Eeceive her, Claudius. 
 
 Virginius, Thue I surrender her into the court 
 
 [Kills her. 
 Of all the gods. And see, proud Appius, see, 
 ^-Although not justly, I have made her free : 
 And if thy lust with this act be not fed. 
 Bury her in thy bowels, now she's dead. 
 Omnes. horrid act ! 
 
 Jpp. Claud. Lay hand upon the murderer ! 
 Virginius. for a ring of pikes to circle me ! 
 What, have I stood the brunt of thousand 
 
 enemies, 
 Here to be slain by hangmen 1 No ; I'll fly 
 To safety in the camp. [Exit. 
 
 App. Claud. Some pursue the villain. 
 Others take up the body. Madness and rage 
 Are still the attendants of old doting age. 
 
 [Exeuiit. 
 
 SCENE II.* 
 Snter Two Soldiers. 
 First Sold. Is our hut swept clean 1 
 Sec. Sold. As I can make it. 
 First. Sold. 'Tis betwixt us two ; 
 
 * Scene //.] The camp before Algidum. 
 
 But how many, think'st thou, bred of Roman 
 
 blood, 
 Did lodge with us last night 1 
 
 Sec. Sold. More, I think, than the camp hath 
 enemies ; 
 They are not to be number'd. 
 
 First Sold. Comrague,* I fear 
 Appius will doom us to Acteon's death. 
 To be worried by the cattle that we feed. 
 How goes the day 1 
 
 Sec. Sold. My stomach has struck twelve. 
 
 First Sold. Come, see what provant our knap- 
 sack yields. 
 This is our store, our garner. 
 
 Sec. Sold. A small pittance. 
 
 Fi7-st Sold. Feeds Appius thus ? Is this a city 
 feast 1 
 This crust doth taste like date-stones; and this 
 
 thing, 
 If I knew what to call it, 
 
 Sec. Sold. I can tell you; 
 Cheese struck in years. 
 
 First Sold. I do not think but this same crust 
 was bak'd. 
 And this cheese frighted out of milk and whey, 
 Before we two were soldiers : though it be old, 
 I see 't can crawl : what living things be these 
 That walk so freely 'tween the rind and pithl 
 For here's no sap left. 
 
 Sec. Sold. They call them gentles. 
 
 First Sold. Therefore 'tis thought fit 
 That soldiers, by profession gentlemen. 
 Should thus be fed with gentles. I am stomach- 
 sick ; 
 I must have some strong water. 
 
 Sec. Sold. Where will you have 't ? 
 
 First Sold. In yon green ditch, a place which 
 none can pass 
 But he must stop his nose : thou know'st it well ; 
 There where the two dead dogs lie. 
 
 Sec. Sold. Yes, I know 't. 
 
 First Sold. And see the cat, that lies a distance off, 
 
 * Comrague] The Editor of 1816, and Naxes (Gloss, in v. 
 Comrogue), incline to think this word a misprint, neither 
 of them having met with it, except in the present passage. 
 I had, however, noted down more_ than one example of 
 its use, but have mislaid them aU except the follow- 
 ing :— 
 
 "Nay, rest by me. 
 Good Morglay, my coynrague and bed- fellow." 
 Hejrwood and Brome's Lancashire Witches, 1634, Sig. K. 
 Comrague has the same sense as, and perhaps is a cor- 
 ruption of, comrade, which used to be accented on the 
 last syllable, — 
 
 "And his comrades, that daff the world aside." 
 Shakespeare's First Part of Henry IV., act IV. sc. I. 
 
174 
 
 APPIUS AUTD VIRGINIA. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Be fla/d for supper : though we dine today 
 As Dutchmen feed their soldiers, we will Bup 
 Bravely like Roman leaguercrs. 
 
 Sec. Sold. Sir, the general. 
 
 First Sold. We'll give him place : 
 But tell none of our daiuties, leat we have 
 Too many gucsta to supper. [Exeunt. 
 
 Enttr MiNUTlCS rtading a Utter, vith OflBccre 
 atiii Suldiera. 
 
 Min. Most sure 'tis so, it cannot otherwise be ; 
 Either Virginius is degenerate 
 From the ancient virtues he was wont to boast, 
 Or in some strange displeasure with the senate : 
 Why should those lettei-s else from Appius 
 ConBne him a close prisoner to the camp ? 
 And, which confirms his guilt, why should he fly? 
 Needs, then, must I incur some high displeasure 
 For negligence, to let him thus escape : 
 Which to excuse, and that it may appear 
 I have no hand with him, but am of faction 
 Oppos'd in all things to the least misdeed, 
 I will cashier him, and his tribuneship 
 Bestow upon some noble gentleman 
 Belonging to the camp. — Soldiers and friends. 
 You that beneath Virginius' colours march'd. 
 By strict command from the Dccemvirato 
 We tiike you from the charge of him late fled. 
 And his authority, command, and honour 
 We give this worthy Roman. Know his colours, 
 And prove his faithful soldiers. 
 
 Itoman. Warlike general. 
 My courage and my forwiu-dness in battle 
 Sliall plead how well I can deserve the title. 
 To be a Uumuu tribune. 
 
 Itt-fiter FiiHt (H)lJicr in hasle. 
 
 Min. Now, the no\vn ? 
 
 first Sold. Virginius, in a strange bhape of 
 dlHtraction, 
 F.ntem the camp, and at his heels a legion 
 Of all cKtutcs, growths, ages, and degrcfs, 
 With breathlewi pacuH dog bin frighted Hto)>s. 
 It •oema half Rome's unpeopled with a train 
 That, either for Home mischief done, pursue him. 
 Or to attend some uncouth novelty. 
 
 Min. Soujo wonder our fear promises. — Worthy 
 j Huldieni, 
 
 Marshal youmelvcH, and cnterUiin this novel 
 Within a ring of utoel : wall in this portent 
 With Ui«n and lmrn««iui', bo it ne'er ho ili*eadfuL 
 He'll entoroil. by the iliimour of the camp, 
 That oul«rt4iinit him with theao oohoiug thouta. 
 
 • AaniM*] 1. 0. Miaour. 
 
 Affection that in soldiers' hearts is bred 
 Survives the wounded, and outlives the dead. 
 
 Enter VlRCixirs, vnth hitl-nife: that, andhii arms stripptd 
 up to the elbotet, all Uoodi/ : coming into tkt midtt <tf 
 Vie toUiert, lit maket a stand. 
 
 Virginius. Have I, in all this populous assembly 
 Of soldiers that have prov'd Virginius' valour. 
 One friend ? Let him come thrill * his partisan 
 Against this breast, that through a large wide 
 
 wound 
 My mighty soul might rush out of this prison. 
 To fly more freely to yon ci-ystal palace, 
 Where honour sits enthroniz'd. What, no friend ? 
 Can this great multitude, then, yield an enemy 
 That hates my life ? Here let him seize it freely. 
 What, no man strike 1 am I so well belov'd ? — 
 Minutius, then to thee : if in this camp 
 There lives one man so just to punish sin, 
 So chai-itable to redeem from torments 
 A wi-etched soldier, at his worthy hand 
 I beg a death. 
 
 Min. What means Virginius ? 
 Virginius. Or if the general's heart be so obduro 
 To an old begging soldier, have I here 
 No honest legionaiy of mine own troop, 
 At whose bold hand and sword, if not entreat, 
 I may command a death \ 
 
 First. Sold. Alas, good captain ! 
 Min. Virginius, you have no command at all : 
 Your companies are elsewhere now bestow'd. 
 Besides, we have a charge to stay you here. 
 And make you the camp's prisoner. 
 
 Virginius. General, thanks : 
 For thou hast done ivs much with one harsh word 
 As I begg'd from their weapons; thou hast kill i 
 
 me. 
 But with a living death. 
 
 Min. Besides, I chai-ge you 
 To speak what moans this ugly face of Wood 
 You put on your ilistnictions? What's the reason 
 All Rome pursues you, co>'ering those high hill-. 
 As if they dogg'd you for some damned act! 
 What have jjou done ? 
 
 Virginitu. I have play'd the parricide ; 
 Kill'd mine own child. 
 Mtii. Virginia] 
 Viiyini\u. Yes, oven she. 
 
 * l\rW\ L 0., burl,— An unusual muim of tho word; ^" 
 Hoywriod ; 
 
 " I'll ihrin my JiiToliii nt tlio Oroolmi moy«turo, 
 And aimro tlio Tii>Jikii UKhhI." 
 
 trt^H Ai)f, rati Firtt, 1M2, Sl(f. 1 
 " All which Uielr JuvoliiM tJtrUd agiUuat Uiy Ureal." 
 
 Id.,SlgU 
 
SCENE II. 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 175 
 
 These rude hands ripp'd her, and her innocent 
 
 blood 
 Flow'd above my elbows. 
 
 Min. Kill'd her willingly ? 
 
 Virginius. Willingly, with advice, premedita- 
 tion, 
 And settled purpose ; and see, still I wear 
 Her crimson colours, and these wither'd arms 
 Are dy'd in her heart-blood. 
 
 Min. Most wretched villain ! 
 
 Virginius. But how I lov'd her life ! Lend me 
 amongst you 
 One speaking organ to discourse her death : 
 It is too harsh an imposition 
 To lay upon a father. — my Virginia ! 
 
 Min. How agrees this? Love her, and murder 
 berl 
 
 Virginius. Yes : give me but a little leave to 
 di'ain 
 A few red tears, for soldiers should weep blood. 
 And I'll agree them well. Attend me all. 
 Alas, might I have kept her chaste and free, 
 This life, so oft gag'd * for ingrateful Rome, 
 Lay in her bosom : but when I saw her puU'd 
 By Appius' Lictors to be claim'd a slave. 
 And di-agg'd unto a public sessions-house, 
 Divorc'd from her fore-spousals with Icilius, 
 A noble youth, and made a bondwoman, 
 Enforc'd by violence from her father's arms 
 To be a prostitute and paramour 
 To the rude twinings of a lecherous judge ; 
 Then, then, loving soldiers, (I'U not deny it. 
 For 'twas mine honour, my paternal pity,j 
 And the sole act for which I love my life,) 
 Then lustful Appius, he that sways the land. 
 Slew poor Virginia by this father's hand. 
 
 First Sold. villain Appius ! 
 
 Sec. Sold. noble Virginius ! 
 
 Virginius. To you I appeal; you are my sen- 
 tencers : 
 Did Appius right, or poor Virginius wrong ] 
 Sentence my fact with a free general tongue. 
 
 First Sold. Appius is the parricide. 
 
 Sec. Sold. Virginius guiltless of his daughter's 
 death. 
 
 Min. If this be true,Virginius (as the moan 
 Of all the Roman fi-y that follows you 
 Confirms at large), this cause is to be pitied. 
 And should not die revengeless. 
 
 Virginius. Noble Minutius, 
 Thou hast a daughter, thou hast a wife too ; 
 So most of you have, soldiers : why might not this 
 
 * gag'cl] The old copy "ingag'd." 
 
 Have happen'd you? Which of you all, dear 
 
 friends, 
 But now, even now, may have your wives de- 
 
 ilower'd. 
 Your daughters slav'd, and made a Lictor's prey l. 
 Think them not safe in Rome, for mine liv'd 
 there. 
 Roman.* It is a common cause. 
 First Sold. Appius shall die for 't. 
 Sec. Sold. Let's make Virginius general. 
 Omnes. A genei'al ! 
 A general ! let's make Virginius general ! 
 
 Min. It shall be so. — Virginius, take my charge : 
 The wrongs are thine, so violent and so weighty. 
 That none but he that lost so fair a child 
 Knows how to punish. By the gods of Rome, 
 Virginius shall succeed my full command. 
 
 Virginius. What's honour unto me, — a weak 
 old man, 
 Weary of life, and covetous of a grave ] 
 I am a dead man, now Virginia lives not. 
 The self-same hand that dar'd to save from shame 
 A child, dares in the father act the same. 
 
 [Offers to kill himself. 
 First Sold. Stay, noble general ! 
 Min. You much forget revenge, Virginius. 
 Who, if you die, will take your cause in hand. 
 And proscribe Appius, should you perish thvis ? 
 Virginius. Thou ought'st, Minutius: — soldiers, 
 so ought you. 
 I'm out of fear : my noble wife's expir'd ; 
 My daughter of bless'd memory, the object 
 Of Appius' lust, lives 'mongst the Elysian vestals; 
 My house yields none fit for his Lictors' spoil. 
 You that have wives lodg'd in yon prison, Rome, 
 Have lands unrifled, houses yet unseiz'd, 
 Your freeborn daughters yet unstrumpeted. 
 Prevent these mischiefs yet while you have 
 time. 
 First Sold. We will by you, our noble general. 
 Sec. Sold. He that was destin'd to preserve great 
 
 Rome. 
 Vij'ginius. I accept your choice, in hope to guard 
 you all 
 From my inhuman sufferings. Be't my pride 
 That I have bred a daughter, whose chaste blood 
 Was spilt for you and for Rome's lasting good. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 * Romaii] i. e., the officer who was to succeed Virginius 
 in his command (see p. 174). Occasionally our old dra- 
 matists neglect, awkwardly enough, to give names to 
 inferior speakers : so in Shakespeare's Richard the Second, 
 act. IV. sc. I. Aumerle is defied to combat by Pitz- 
 walter, Percy, and a Lord. 
 
176 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 ACT y. 
 
 SCENE 1.* 
 
 Enter OPPira. a Senator, and the Advocate. 
 0pp. Is AppiuB, then, committed ? 
 Sen. So 'tis nimour'd. 
 
 0pp. How will you bear you in this turbulent 
 state] 
 You are a member of that wretched faction : 
 I wonder how you scape imprisonment. 
 
 Adv. Let me alone: I have learnt with the wise 
 he»lgehog, 
 To stop my cave that way the tempest drives. 
 Never did bear-whelp, tumbling down a hill, 
 With more art shrink his head betwixt his 
 
 claws 
 Than I will work my safety. Appius 
 la in the sand already up to the chin ; 
 And shall I hazard landing on that shelf? 
 He's a wise friend that first befriends himself. 
 Opp, What is your course of safety? 
 Adv. Marry, this: 
 Virgiuius, with his troops, is entering Rome, 
 And it is like that in the market-place 
 My Lord Icilius and himself shall meet : 
 Now to encounter these, two such great armies, 
 Where lien my court of guard! 
 
 Sen. Why, in your heels : 
 There are strange dogs uncoupled. 
 
 Adv. You are decciv'd : 
 I have studied a most eloquent oration, 
 That Hlmll applaud their fortune, and distaste 
 Tlie cruelty of Appius, 
 Sen. Very good, sir : 
 It H«euui, then, you will rail upuii yu>ir loi il, 
 Your late goo<l benefactor I 
 Adv. Uy the way, nir. 
 Sen. IVotoHt Virginia wujt no bondwoman, 
 And read her noblo pudigreo? 
 Adv. IJy tho way, sir. 
 
 Opp. Could you not, by the way too, find occa 
 ■ion 
 T" Wg I,«.rd Ajipiiui' lauditl 
 
 Adv. And by tlio way 
 I'erohaiico I will ; for I will gull thorn nil 
 
 M««l IMllptbly. 
 
 Opp. li«lre«l, you havo tho art 
 or flatlory. 
 
 • lir«M« /.J lioiiio. A iUwit 
 
 Adv. Of rhetoric, you would say : 
 And I'll begin my smooth oration thus : — 
 " Most learned captains," 
 
 Sen. Fie, fie, that's horrible! most of your 
 captains 
 Are utterly unlearned. 
 
 Adv. Yet, I assure you, 
 Most of them know arithmetic so well. 
 That in a muster, to preserve dead pays,* 
 They'll make twelve stand for twenty. 
 
 Opp. Very good. 
 
 Adv. Then I proceed: — 
 " I do applaud your fortunes, and commend 
 In this your observation, noble shake-rags : 
 The helmet shall no more harbour the spider, 
 But it shall serve to carouse sack and cider." — 
 The rest within I'll study. [Exit. 
 
 Opp. Farewell, Proteus : 
 And I shall wish thy eloquent bravado 
 May shield thee from the whip and bastinado. 
 Now in this furious tempest let us glide. 
 With folded sails, at pleasure of the tide. 
 
 SCENE ILt 
 Enter, from one ride, IciLirs, Horatius, VAUairs, Nimi- 
 TORUS, mth Soldiers ; from Ute other, Viroixks, 
 Mi.sL'TU's, and othert. 
 
 Icil. Stand! 
 
 Virginiiis. ^lako a stand I 
 Icil. A parley with Virginius. 
 Min. We will not trust our general 'twixt the 
 armies, 
 But upon terms of hostage. 
 
 Nuni. Well advis'd : 
 Nor we o\n- general. "Who for tho leaguer! J 
 Min. Ourself. 
 
 Virginius. Who for tho city? 
 7ci7. Numitorius. 
 
 [Mini Tiiii and NiMlToim-8 nutl, embraee, $alvl- 
 the generuit. 
 Num. How is it with your sorrow, noblo brother ! 
 Virginius. I aui foiitakon of the gods, old man. 
 
 • drarf fKiya] I.e., jwy conttnuM to soldtoni who woni 
 1 rwilly doHil, which offlcor* ol Wobator'a diiyn H-iui.loa ml 
 
 t..im'iiiiii« to tnko for thoinxolvon. 
 
 ♦ ,s...r // I Tho Hiiino Tlio Forum. 
 { Uai;iur\ I. o utinp. 
 
SCENE II. 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 177 
 
 Num. Preach not that wretched doctrine to 
 yourself; 
 It will beget despair. 
 
 Virginius. What do you call 
 A burning fever 1 is not that a devil 1 
 It shakes me like an earthquake. "Wilt a, wilt a 
 Give me some wine ? 
 
 Num. 0, it is hurtful for you. 
 
 Virginius. Why so are all things that the 
 appetite 
 Of man doth covet in his perfect'st health : 
 Whatever art or nature have invented 
 To make the boundless wish of man contented, 
 Are all his poison. — Give me the wine there ! 
 
 when?* 
 Do you grudge me a poor cup of drink ? Say, say. 
 Now, by the gods, I'll leave enough behind me 
 To pay my debts ; and for the rest, no matter 
 Who sci-ambles for 't. 
 
 Nicm. Here, my noble brother. 
 Alas, your hand shakes : I will guide it to you. 
 
 Virginius. 'Tis true, it trembles. — -Welcome, 
 thou just palsy ! 
 'Twere pity this should do me longer service, 
 Now it hath slain my daughter. — So, I thank you. 
 Now I have lost all comforts in the world, 
 It seems I must a little longer live, 
 Be 't but to serve my belly. 
 
 Min. my lord, 
 This violent fever took him late last night : 
 Since when, the cruelty of the disease 
 Hath drawn him into sundry passions, 
 Beyond his wonted temper. 
 
 Icil. 'Tis the gods 
 Have pour'd their justice on him. 
 
 Virginius. You are sadly met, my lord. 
 
 Icil. Would we had met 
 In a cold grave together two months since ! 
 I should not then have eurs'd you. 
 
 Virginius. Ha ! what's that ] 
 
 Icil. Old man, thou hast show'd thyself a noble 
 Roman, 
 But an imnatural father : thou hast turn d 
 My bridal to a funeral. What devil 
 Did arm thy fury with the lion's paw, 
 The dragon's tail, with the bull's double horn. 
 The cormorant's beak, the cockatrice's eyes, 
 The scorpion's teeth, — and all these by a father 
 _To be employ'd upon his innocent child ? 
 
 Virginius. Young man, I love thy true descrip- 
 tion : 
 I am happy now that one beside myself 
 
 * when] See note*, p. CS. 
 
 Doth tax* me for this act. Yet, were I pleas'd, 
 I could approve the deed most just and noble ; 
 And, sure, posterity, which truly renders 
 To each man his desert, shall praise me for 't. 
 
 Icil. Come, 'twas unnatural and damnable. 
 Virginius. You need not interrupt me : here's 
 a fury 
 WiU do it for you. You are a Roman knight : 
 What was your oath when you receiv'd your 
 
 knighthood 1 
 A parcel of it is, as I remember, 
 " Rather to die with honour than to live 
 In servitude." Had my poor girl been ravish'd, 
 In her dishonour and in my sad grief 
 Your love and pity quickly had ta'en end : 
 Great men's misfortunes thus have ever stood, — 
 They touch none nearly, but their nearest blood. 
 What do you mean to do ? It seems, my lord. 
 Now you have caught the sword within your hand. 
 Like a madman you will draw it to offend 
 Those that best love you ; and perhaps the counsel 
 Of some loose unthrifts and vile malcontents 
 Hearten you to it : go to ; take your course. 
 My faction shall not give the least advantage 
 To murderers, to bauquerouts,t or tliieves, 
 To fleece the commonwealth. 
 
 Icil. Do you term us so ] 
 Shall I reprove your rage, or is 't your malice ? 
 He that would tame a lion doth not use 
 The goad or wired whip, but a sweet voice, 
 A fearful stroking, and with food in hand 
 Must ply his wanton hunger. 
 
 Virginius. Want of sleep 
 Will do it better than all these, my lord. 
 I would not have you wake for others* ruin, 
 Lest you turn mad with watching. 
 
 Icil. you gods ! 
 You are now a general: learn to know your place. 
 And use your noble calling modestly. 
 Better had Appius been an upright judge 
 And yet an evil man, than honest man 
 And yet a dissolute judge ; for all disgrace 
 Lights less upon the person than the place. 
 You are i'the city now, where if y&u raise 
 But the least uproar, even your father's house 
 Shall not be free from ransack. Piteous fires. 
 That chance in towers of stone, are not so fear'd 
 As those that light in flax-shops ; for there's food 
 For eminent ruin. 
 
 3Iin. my noble lord. 
 Let not your passion bring a fatal end 
 
 * tax] The old copy "teacli." 
 
 t banquerouts] Here for the .sake of the metre I have 
 let the old spellmg stand. 
 
178 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 To such a good beginning. All the world 
 Shall honour thiit deed * in him, wliich first 
 Grew to a reconcilement. 
 
 Icil. Come, my lonl, 
 I love your friemluhip ; yes, in sooth, I do ; 
 But will not seal it with that bloody hand. 
 Join we our armies. No fauta«tic copy 
 Or borrow'd prece<lent will I assume 
 In my revenge. Tiiere's hope yet you may live 
 To outwear this sorrow. 
 
 Virginiiu. 0, impossible ! 
 A minute's joy to mo would quite cross nature ; 
 As tho!-e that long have dwelt in noisome rooms 
 Swoon presently, if they but scent perfumes. 
 
 Icil. To the senate ! Come, no more of this 
 sad tale ; 
 For such a tell-tale may we term our grief, 
 And doth, as 'twere, so listen to her own words, 
 Envious of others' sleep, becau-se she wakes. 
 I ever would converse with a griev'd person 
 In a long journey to beguile the day. 
 Or winter-evening to pass time away. 
 March on, and let proud Appius in our view. 
 Like a tree rotted, fall that way he grew. 
 
 [Extunt. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Appirs Clai'dics and Marcus CLAuntus ditcovered in 
 primn, fdttrtil and giivtd. 
 
 App. Claud. The world is chang'd now. All 
 dainnatiouB 
 Seize on the hydra-headed multitude. 
 That only gnpo for innovation ! i 
 
 O, who would trust a people? | 
 
 Afar. Claud. Nay, who wo\ild not. 
 Hither than one rear'd on a popular BiiflTrago, 
 WhoHO titation's built on ave^ mid ap])lause? 
 Tiiero '» no firm structure on these aiiy bases : 
 (), fio upon iiucli greatnoKs! 
 
 App. Claud. The saino hands 
 That yciitcrday, to hoar ino conscionata 
 And omtoriKo, ning Mhrill plaudits forth \ 
 
 In "i(;n of gnico, now in contempt and scorn ■ 
 Hurry nio to ihi* place of darkuoan. | 
 
 .Uiir. Claud. Could not thoir poiions nith^r 
 *lHiDd thouuolvM 
 On the judgo fully.t but must it needs stretch ! 
 T» uio his NorvRiit, ami Hwoop mo along? 
 CurM on tho incounlant rabble ! 
 
 App. CtautL (JrloviiH it then 
 To lin|>art • mr wd ilU«i«ti>rf 
 
 }[ar. Claud. Slarry, doth it. 
 
 App. Claud. Thou shared'st a fortune with me 
 in my greatness ; 
 I hal'd thee after when I clomb * my state ; 
 And shrink'st thou at my ruin ? 
 
 3far. Claud. I lov'd your greatness, 
 And would have trac'd you in the golden path 
 Of sweet promotion : but this your decline 
 Sours all these hop6d sweets. 
 
 App. Claud. 'Tis the world right : 
 Such gratitude a great man still shall have 
 That trusts unto a temporizing slave. 
 
 Mar. Claud. Slave ! good. Which of us two 
 In our dejection is basest ? I am most sure 
 Your loathsome dungeon is as dark as mine ; 
 Your conscience, for a thousand sentences 
 Wrongly denounc'd, much more oppress'd than 
 
 mine : 
 Then which is tho most slave? 
 
 App. Claud. double basencsp, 
 To hear a drudge thus with his lord compare ! 
 Great men disgrac'd slaves to their servants are.'^ 
 
 Enter VmoiKics, IciLirs, Misttifs, Nvmitorivs, Hora- 
 Trvs, Valerius, Oppius, icith SolJiors. 
 
 Virginius. Soldiers, keep a strong guard whilst 
 wo survey 
 Our ecntenc'd prisoners: and from this deep 
 
 dungeon 
 Keep off that great concourse, whose violent hands 
 Would ruin this stone-building, and drag hence 
 This impious judge, piecemeal to tear his limbs 
 Before tho law convince + him. 
 
 Icil. See, these monsters. 
 Whose fronts the fair Virginia's innocent blood 
 Hath visarded with such black ugliness, 
 That they are loathsome to all good men's souls ! — 
 Speak, divn>n(l>d judge ! how canst thou purge 
 1 thyself 
 
 From lust and blood ? 
 ' App. Claud, I do confess myself 
 puilty of both : yet hear nie, noble Romans. 
 Virginias, thou dost but supply my j^laco. 
 1 thine : fortune hath lift thee to my chair, 
 I And thrown me headlong to thy pleading bar. 
 I, If in mine ominonco I w;us stern to thee, 
 I Shunning my rigour, likewise shun my fall ; 
 Anil, lu'ing mild where I show'd cruelty, 
 liitiililiNh still thy greatness. Mako some uko 
 ' >f thin my bondage. With indifTcrence 
 Mirvoy jut<, and compare my yesterday 
 
 i-^^flrf] I. c. atiaio 
 
 ' i/fiiiif,| Tho old copy "Himb." 
 \ CDMrinf*] 1. 0. convict 
 
APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 179 
 
 With this sad houi", my height with my decline, 
 And give them equal balance. 
 
 Vh-ginius. Uncertain fate ! but yesterday his 
 breath j 
 
 Aw'd Eome, and his least torved* frown wag 
 death : I 
 
 1 I cannot choose but pity and lament, 
 I So high a rise should have such low descent. 
 Icil. He 's ready to forget his injury : 
 too relenting age ! — Thinks not Virginius, 
 If he should pardon Appius this black deed, 
 And set him once more in the ivory chair, 
 He would be wary to avoid the like, 
 Become a new man, a more'upright judge, 
 And deserve better of tlie commonweal? 
 Virginius. 'Tis like he would. 
 Icil. Nay, if you thus begin, 
 I'll fetch that shall anatomize his sin. [Exit. 
 
 Num. Vix'ginius, you are too remiss to punish 
 Deeds of this nature : you must fashion now 
 Tour actions to your place, not to your passion : 
 Severity to such acts is as necessary 
 As pity to the tears of innocence. 
 
 Min. He speaks but law and justice. 
 Make good the streets with your best men-at-arms. 
 
 \^A shout within. 
 Valerius and Horatius, know the reason 
 Of this loud uproar and confused noise. 
 
 [Exeunt Val. and HoR. 
 Although my heart be melting at the fall 
 Of men in place and office, we'll be just 
 To punish murderous acts, and censure lust. 
 
 Re-enter Valerius and Horatius. 
 Val. Icilius, worthy lord, bears through the 
 street 
 The body of Virginia towards this prison : 
 Which, when it was discover'd to the people, 
 Mov'd such a mournful clamour, that their cries 
 Pierc'd heaven, and forc'd tears from their sorrow- 
 ing eyes. 
 Hor. Here comes Icilius. 
 
 Re-enter Icilius with the body of Virginia. 
 Icil. Where was thy pity, when thou slew'st this 
 
 maid, 
 Thou wouldst extend to Appius? Pity I See 
 Her wounds still bleeding at the horrid presence 
 Of yon stern murderer,t till she find revenge ! 
 Nor will these drops stanch, or these springs be 
 
 dry, 
 
 * torved'] i. e. stem. 
 
 t Her wounds still bleeding at the horrid presence 
 Of yon stern murderer'] According to the belief of the 
 time when this play was written. 
 
 Till theirs be set a-bleeding. Shall her soul, 
 (Whose essence some suppose lives in the blood,) 
 Still labour without rest ? Will old Virginius 
 Murder her once again in this delay? 
 
 Virginius. Pause there, Icilius. 
 This sight hath stiffen'd all my operant powei-s,* 
 Ic'd all my blood, benumb'd my motion quite. 
 I'll pour my soul into my daughter's belly, 
 And with a soldier's tears embalm her wounds. — 
 My only dear Virginia ! 
 
 A^tp. Claud. Leave this passion; 
 Proceed to your just sentence. 
 
 Virginius. We will. — Give me two swords.— 
 Appius, grasp this; 
 You Claudius, that : you shall be your own hang- 
 men ; + 
 Do justice on yourselves. You made Virginius 
 Sluice his own blood, lodg'd in his daughter'.-i 
 
 breast; 
 Which your own hands shall act upon yourselves. 
 If you be Romans, and retain their spuits, 
 Redeem a base life with a noble death, 
 And through your lust-burnt veins confine + your 
 breath. 
 App. Claud. Virginius is a noble justicer : 
 Had I my crooked paths levell'd by thine, 
 I had not sway'd the balance. Think not, lords, 
 But he that had the spirit to oppose the gods, 
 Dares likewise suffer what their powei's inflict. 
 I have not dreaded famine, fire, nor strage,§ 
 Their common vengeance ; poison in my cup. 
 Nor dagger in my bosom, — the revenge 
 Of private men for private injuries ; 
 
 * mij operant powers] So in Shakespeare's Hamlet, act 
 iii. so. 2, — 
 
 " My operant powers their functions leave to do," ic. 
 t hangmen] 1. e. executioners. 
 
 X confine] i. e. drive out, banish. I subjoin several 
 passages where the word is used in the same sense : it is 
 somewhat remarlcable that they are all from Heywood : 
 " Lycaon's once more fled, we by the helpe 
 Of these his people have confined him hence." 
 
 The Golden Age, 1611, Sig. D. 
 " Thy sensuall eyes are fixt upon that wall 
 Thou nere shall enter, Rome confines you nil." 
 
 The Rape of Lucrcce, ed. 1630, Sig. I 2. 
 " King. Accept what we most precious hold, thy Life. 
 Marshall. Which as your gift I'le keepe, till Heaven 
 
 and Nature 
 Confine it hence." 
 
 Tlie Royall King, and the Lnyall Subject, 1637, Sig. K 2, 
 
 "Instead oi confin'd, had his doome beene to have been 
 
 cofBn'd, there had beene some comfort, he might have 
 
 stiU kept his country, but in plaine Porteuguise and 
 
 Spanish both, banisht."' 
 
 A aiallengefor Beautie, 1636, Sig. B 2. 
 " All that's good and honest I confine." 
 
 Tlie Brazen, Age, 1613, Sig. E 2. 
 § sirage] i. e. slaughter. 
 
 N 2 
 
180 
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 Nay, more than these, not fear'd to commit evil ; — 
 And shall I tremble at the punishment 1 
 Now, with as much resolved constancy 
 As I offended, will I i^y the mulct, 
 And this black stiin laid on my family 
 (Than which a nobler hath not place in Rome) 
 Wai)h with my blood away. — Learn of me, 
 
 Claudius; 
 I'll teach thee what thou never stuJied'st yet, 
 Tiiat 's bnively liow to die.— Judges are term'd 
 The gods on earth : and such as are corrupt 
 Read me in this my ruin ; those that succeed me 
 That so offend, tlius punish. This the sum of ;dl, - 
 Appiufl that siun'd by Appius' hand shall fall. 
 
 [KUU himtdj. 
 
 Virginitu. He died as boldly as he basely orrM ; 
 And 80 should everj' true-bred Roman do : 
 And he whose life was odious, thus expiring, 
 In his death forceth pity. — Claudius, thou 
 Wast follower of his fortunes in his being ; 
 Therefore in his not being imitate 
 liis fair example. 
 
 Mar. Claud. Death is terrible 
 Unto a conscience that 'a oppress'd with guilt 
 They say tliere is Elysium and hell ; 
 The first I have forfeited, the latter fear: 
 My nkiu is not sword-proof. 
 
 Jcil. Wliy dost thou pause 1 
 
 Mar. Claiul. For mercy ; mercy I entreat you 
 all. 
 Is't not sufficient for Virginia slain 
 Tliat Appius Buffcr'd ? ono of noble blood 
 And eminence in place for a plebeian? 
 ileMid<>H,ho was my lord, and mi)j;ht command m<- - 
 If I did mij^ht, 'twiit by compulsion, lords; 
 And therefore I crave mercy. 
 
 led. Shall I doom him { 
 
 Virginiua. Do, good Icilius. 
 
 Icil. Then I sentence thus. 
 Thou hadst a mercy, most unmeriting slave. 
 Of which thy base birth was not capable; 
 Which we take off by taking thence thy sword. 
 And note the difference 'twixt a noble strain 
 And one bred from the rabble : both alike 
 Dar'd to transgress, but, see, their odds in death : 
 Appius died like a Roman gentleman, 
 And a man both ways knowing ; but this slave 
 Is only sensible of vicious living, 
 Not apprehensive of a noble death : 
 Therefore as a base malefactor we 
 And timorous slave give him, as he deserves, 
 Unto the common hangman. 
 
 Mar. Claud. ^Vhat, no mercy? 
 
 Icil. Stop 's mouth : 
 Away with him ! [Mar. Claud, is removed. 
 
 The life of the Decemviri 
 Expires in them. Rome, thou at length art free, 
 Restor'd unto thine ancient liberty! 
 
 Min. Of consuls; which bold Junius Brutu- 
 first 
 Begim in Tarqiiin's fall. — Virginius, you 
 And young Icilius shall his place succe^'d ; 
 So by the peojtle's suffrage 'tis decreed. 
 
 Virginim. We marshal, then, our soldiers in 
 that name 
 Of consuls, honour'd with these golden bays. 
 Two fair, but ladies most infortunate. 
 Have in their ruins rais'd declining Rome, 
 Lucretia and Virginia, both renown'd 
 For chastity. — SoKliei-s and noble Romans, 
 To grace her death, whose life hath freed great 
 
 Rome, 
 iMarch with her corse to her sad funeral tomb. 
 
 [PUmrith. ExiHiti. 
 
THE 
 
 FAMOUS HISTOEY OF SIR THOMAS WYATT. 
 
The Famtnu Hitlorii of Sir TUoma* XY'iiat. WUh the Coronation of Qutett Mary, aiid the. coming in of King Philip, 
 At it teai fAaitd by tin Qatetu Maitttits Seruanlt. Written by Tlunnat Diikert and John Webtter. London, Printed by 
 B. A. for Thomat Arclier, and art to be tolde at hit t/iop in tite POpe't-head Pallace: nere t/ie Royall Exdiange, 1007. 4to. 
 
 The Pamovt Hiitory of Sir Thomas Wyat. With the Coronation of Queen Mary and the camming in of King Ph Hip. 
 At it itai plaied by the Qiuent Maiettiet Seruanti. Written by Thomas Dickers, and John Webtttr. London Printed for 
 Tliomat Arclicr, and are to be tolde at his ttiop in Vie Pope* liead Pallace, neere the Royall Exchange. 1G12. 4to. 
 
 Wlicn I formerly edited tbo wurlu of Webster, I was not aware that there existed more than one edition of this 
 pUy : siiico that time, a copy of the second quarto has como into my possession (from the sale of Mr. Heber's books). 
 
 There can bo no doubt that The Famous History of Sir Tliomas Wyatt consists merely of fn\gments of two plays, 
 —OT rather, a play in Two l'art8,^<^ed Lady Jaiu, couccmiug which wo hnd the following entries in The Diary of 
 IteittloKe : 
 
 "Lont unto Juliii Tharo, the 15 of octobr 1602, to geve unto harey chottell, Thomas Deckers, 
 Thuniaii llcwtKle, luij Mr. Siuytli, aud Mr. Webtler, in oamoste of a playecalled Ladoy Jane, 
 the koiuo of 1* 
 
 "Lout unto Tlioinnx HowcmIo, the 21 of octobr 1(J02, to p.iyo unto Mr. Dickers, chett«ll, 
 
 Suiytho, Wrlxster and Iluwo<Ju, in fuUe payment ol thor playe of ladye Jano, the some o f . v" x* 
 
 " I<eiit unto Joint Duoko, the 37 of octobr 1002, to geve unto Thomas Deckers, in eornesto of 
 
 tlio 2 pt of 1.4ulyu Jiuiu, the some of y* " 
 
 Pp. 242-3, ed. Shal-ttpeart Soe. 
 
 Whether the present abridgment of Lady Jane wiw made by Dokkor and Webster (see its tltle-]vigcX or by some 
 oihur pliiy-wright, cannot bo duturmiucd : that it has sutTorud cruelly from the hands of the transcriber or printer, 
 U certain. 
 
DEAMATTS PERSONS. 
 
 Duke of Northumberland. 
 Guildford Dudley, \ ^^jg gQ^s_ 
 Ambrose Dudley, ) 
 Duke of Suffolk. 
 Duke of Norfolk. 
 Earl of Arundel. 
 Earl of Pembroke. 
 Earl of Huntingdon. 
 Bishop op Winchester. 
 Lord Treasurer. 
 
 Sir Thomas Wyatt. 
 
 Sir Henry Bedingfield. 
 
 Sir George Harper. 
 
 Sir Henry Isely. 
 
 Sir Robert Rodston. 
 
 Captain Brett. 
 
 Norroy. 
 
 Preacher. 
 
 Doctor. 
 
 Count Egmont. 
 
 ROOSE. 
 
 Homes. 
 Porter. 
 Clown. 
 Headsman, Sheriff, Heralds, Officers, &c. 
 
 Queen Mary. 
 Lady Jane Dudley. 
 Country Maid. 
 Ladies. 
 
THE 
 
 FAMOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS WMTT. 
 
 Enter Northumberland and Suffolk.* 
 
 Suff. How fares the king, my lord ? speaks he 
 cheerly ? 
 
 North. Even as a dying man, whose life's t like to 
 Quick lightning, 
 Which is no sooner seen but is extinct. 
 
 Stiff. Is the king's will coufirm'd ? 
 
 North. Kj, that's the point that we level at : 
 But, 0, the confirmation of that will, 
 'Tis all, 'tis aU ! 
 
 Suff. That will confirm my daughter queen. 
 
 North. Right ; and my sou is married to your 
 daughter. 
 My lord, in an even plain way I will 
 Derive the crown unto your daughter's head. 
 What though the king hath left behind 
 Two sisters, lawful and immediate heii-s. 
 To succeed him in his throne 1 
 Lies it not in our powers to contradict it ? 
 Have we not the king and council's hands unto it ? 
 Tut, we stand high 
 In man's opinion and the world's broad eye, 
 
 S'xff. Here comes Sir Thomas Wyatt. 
 
 Enter Wyatt. 
 North. Sir Thomas, 
 Booted and spurr'd ! whither away so fast ] 
 
 Wyatt. It boots me not to stay. 
 When in this land rebellion bears such sway. 
 God's will, a court ! 'tis chang'd 
 Since noble Henry's days. You have set you r 
 
 hands 
 Unto a will ; a will you well may call it : 
 So wills Northumberland, so wills great Suffolk, 
 Against God's will, to wrong those princely 
 maids . 
 
 * Eater Northumberland, (fee] Scene, 
 palace at Greenwich . 
 t life's] The old copies " life." 
 
 A room in the 
 
 North. Will you not subsci'ibe 
 Your hand with other of the lords ? Not with me, 
 That in my hands surprise * the sovereignty ? 
 Wyatt. I'll damn + my soul for no man, no, for 
 no man. 
 vVho at doomsday must answer for my sin ? 
 Not you, nor you, my lords. 
 Who nam'd Queen Jane in noble Henry's days ? 
 Which of you all durst once displace his issue 1 
 My lords, my lords, you whet your knives so sharp 
 To carve your meat, that they will cut your 
 
 fingers : 
 The strength is weakness that you build upon. 
 The king is sick, — God mend him, ay, God mend 
 
 him ! — 
 But were his soul from his pale body free, 
 A-dieu, my lords, the court no court for me. 
 North. Farewell ; I fear thee not. — 
 
 l^Exit Wyatt. 
 
 The fly is angry, but he wants a sting. 
 
 Of + all the council, only this perverse 
 
 And peevish lord hath denied his hand 
 
 To the investing of your princely daughter. 
 
 He's idle, and wants power : 
 
 Our ocean shall these petty brooks devour. — 
 
 Here comes his highness' doctor. 
 
 Enter Doctor. 
 Suff. How fares his highness ? 
 Doct. His body is past help : 
 
 * mrprise] May be right : but qy. ? 
 f damn] The old copies " damb'd." 
 I Of all the council, only this perverse 
 And peevish lord hath denied his hand] 
 The old copies have, 
 
 "And all the Coimsell : onely this peruerse 
 And peeuish Lord, hath onely deny'd his hand." 
 The Rev. J. Mitford {Ge7it. Mag. for June 1833, p. 491) 
 would read the second line thus, — 
 
 "And peevish lord denied hath his hand." 
 
o 
 
 186 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS WYATT. 
 
 We have left our practice to the divines. 
 That they may cure his soul. 
 
 Huff. * Past physic's help ! why, thou, paist 
 hope of life. — 
 Here comes his higbuess* preacher. 
 
 Enter Preacher. 
 Life, reverent man ? t 
 
 Preach. Life, life, though death his body do 
 diaeever ; 
 Our king lives with the King of Heaven for ever. 
 NorUu Dead ! — .Send for heralds, call me pur- 
 suivants ; 
 Where's the Kiug-at-arms ? 
 In ever)' market-town proclaim Queen Jane. 
 Suff. Best to take the opinion of the council. 
 Noftlu You are too timorous ; we in ourselves 
 Are power sufficient : the king being dead. 
 This hand shall place the crown on Queen Jane's 
 
 head. 
 Trumpets and drums, with your notes resound 
 Her royal name, that must in state be crowa'd ! 
 -■' .1 i [Eju.wU. 
 
 Enter Gdildfobo and 3 AVE. I 
 
 Guild. Oiw cousin king is dead. 
 
 Jane, Alas, how small an uin contains a king ! 
 Ho, that rul'd all even with his princely breath. 
 Is forc'd to stoop now to the stroke of death. 
 Hciird you not the proclamation ? 
 
 Guild. I hear of it, and I give credit to it : 
 What great men fear to be, their feare make § 
 
 greater. 
 Our futiiers glow ambitious. 
 And would force us sail in mighty tempests, 
 And uru not lords of what they do possess. 
 Are not tiiy thoughts as great ? 
 
 Jane. 1 have no tlioughts so rank, bo grown to 
 A* are our futhem' pride. [head, 
 
 Troth, 1 do enjoy a kingdom, having thee ; 
 ; And HO my pain be prosperous in that, 
 . What ciu'o I though a sheep-cote bo my palace 
 ' Or fiiin-Ht roof of lionour f 
 
 Guild. Koo, how thy blood 
 KcejiM counto with mine ! Thou nmst bo a (pK-en ; 
 
 ay uiu, 
 A ijuonii ! Tlio Haltering bolln, that «hrilly sound 
 At iho kin^'n funeral, with hollow heart* 
 \Vill cowardly call theo aovoroigu; for, indeed. 
 Thou wouhUt prove l»ii .u ii...ir 
 
 • «H.T ) TU >.t.t iN,|,|o« 
 
 • '• '"'I n.to il.i. <.l.| ooplM have iiti 
 •••*•" "flliliiK iwoiii* wniitlii((. 
 
 J i.ni.. .,»..,,,.r,i aiHi Junel Hooiio. A MMtm In 81ou 
 llauw. 
 
 I ■uit.jTIie ul<i niflM •fi-iw • (Kii orruruoiMluuea bv 
 UiAl wu*U Ui Uta iM»kl lliii . 
 
 Jane. Who would wear fetters. 
 Though the)' were all of gold, or to be sick. 
 Though his faint brows for a wearing nightcap 
 Wore a crown ? Thou must assume a title 
 That goes on many feet ; but 'tis an office 
 Wherein the hearts of scholars and of soldiers 
 Will depend upon thy hearse. Were this rightly 
 
 scann'd, 
 We Bcai'ce should find a king in any land. 
 
 Enter Arundeu 
 
 Arun. Honour and happy reign 
 Attend the new majesty of England ! 
 
 Jane. To whom, my lord, bends this your ave? 
 
 A run. To your gmce, dread sovereign ; 
 You are, by the king's will and the consent 
 Of all the lords, chosen for our queen. 
 
 Jane. God ! methinks you sing my death in 
 parts 
 Of music's loudness : 'tis not my turn to rise. 
 
 iViifr Northumberland, Sitfolk with Iht jmrte and tXt 
 
 mace, amt others. 
 
 A'orth. The voice of the whole land speaks in 
 my tongue : 
 It is concluded your majesty must ride 
 From hence unto the Tower, there to stay 
 Until your coronation. 
 
 Jane. God ! 
 
 Suff. Wliy sighs your majesty .' 
 
 Jane. My lord and father, 
 I pray, tell mo, — was your father's father 
 E'er a king] 
 
 Suff. Never, an it like your gi-.ice. 
 
 Jane. Would 1 might still continue of his line, 
 Not travel in the clouds! It is often seen. 
 The heated blood, that covets to bo royal. 
 Leaves oft' ore it be noble. — 
 My learned, careful king, what, must wo go ? 
 
 Gudd. We must. 
 
 Jane. Then it must be so. 
 
 North. Set forward, then. 
 
 [.i dtaU viarch, untl jxus round tht tlngt, and 
 OiMLUKoHD sixain.* 
 
 Guild. The Tower will bo a place of ample state : 
 Some lodgings in it will, like dead men's sculls, 
 UvnuMuber us of frailty. 
 
 Juiti-.f Wo are led 
 With pomp to prison. O prophetic soul! 
 Lo, wo ascend into our chairs of at«to, 
 Like several X coffins, in some funeral pomp, 
 
 • They nro uuv/ tupfoitd to hiivo ronohod (ho Tower. 
 (Tho Mituiric fnol la, that Jniio won couvuyod ftvni 8lon 
 lIuiiNo to Iho Towor liy tniter.) 
 
 f Jiint\ Th» old C(i|iloa " <,'ui." 
 
 J «ri<Ta/J The old co|i1m "/tuunUl." Tho ivadlug, 
 
THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS WYATT. 
 
 187 
 
 Descending to their graves ! But we must on. 
 How can we fare well to keep our coui't 
 Where prisoners keep their cave ? 
 
 lA flourish. Exeunt. 
 
 -^ Enter Qdeen Maist,* with a prayer-hook in Jeer hand, 
 like a nun. 
 
 Mary. Thus like a nun, not like a princess born. 
 Descended from the royal Henry's loins, 
 Live I environ'd in a house of stone. 
 My brother Edward lives in pomp and state ; 
 I in a mansion here all ruinate. 
 Their rich attii-e, delicious banquetting. 
 Their sevei'al pleasures, all their pride and honour, 
 I have forsaken for a rich prayer-book. 
 The golden mines of wealthy India 
 Are all a-s dross compared to thy sweetness : 
 Thou art the joy and comfort of the poor ; 
 The everlasting bliss in thee we find. 
 This httle volume, enclosed in this hand, 
 Is richer than the empire of this land. 
 
 Enter Sip. Hexrt Bedixgfield. 
 Beding. Pardon me, madam, that so boldly I 
 press 
 Into your chamber : I salute your highness 
 With the high style of queen. 
 
 Mary. Queen ! may it be { 
 Or jest you at my lowering misery ] 
 
 Beding. Your brother king is dead, 
 And you the Catholic queen must now succeed. 
 Mary. I see my God at length hath heard my 
 prayer. 
 You, Sir Harry, for your glad tidings. 
 Shall be held in honour and due regard. 
 
 Enter Wyatt. 
 
 Wyatt. Health to the Lady Mary ! 
 
 Mary. And why not queen. Sir Thomas ? 
 
 Wyatt. Ask that of Suffolk['s] duke, and great 
 Northumberland, 
 Who in your stead have crown'd another. 
 
 Mary. Another queen. Sir Thomas, we alive, 
 The true immediate heiress of our dread father ! 
 
 Wyatt. Nothing more true than that. 
 Nothing more true than you are the true heir. 
 Come, leave this cloister, and be seen abroad : 
 Your veiy sight will stir the people's heai-ts, 
 And make them cheerly for Queen Mary cry. 
 One comfort I can tell you : the tenants 
 
 " several " (and it is at least a probable emendation) was 
 proposed by Mr. Collier (Preface to CoUridg^s Seven 
 Lectures, &c., p. cv.). 
 
 * Enter Qw.en Mary, &c.] Scene. An apartment in the 
 Castle of FramUngbam. ' 
 
 I Of the Dukes Northumberland and Suffolk 
 Denied their aid in these unlawful arms ; 
 To all the council I denied my hand. 
 And for King Henry's issue still will stand. 
 3Iary. Yom- counsel, good Sir Thomas, is so 
 pithy. 
 That I am won to like it. 
 
 Wyatt. Come, let us straight 
 From hence, from Framlingham. Cheer your 
 
 spirits. 
 I'll to the dukes at Cambridge, and discharge 
 Them all.— Prosper me, God, in these affairs ! 
 I lov'd the father Avell, I lov'd the son, 
 And for the daughter I through death will run. 
 
 {^Exeunt. 
 
 Enter Xorthu3ibep.la>-d, Sdffolk, Aec>-dei, Brett, 
 
 and Soldiers.* 
 North. Where *s Captain Brett ? 
 Brett. Here, my lord. 
 Suff. Are all our numbers full ] 
 Brett. They are, my lord. 
 Suff. See them arraign'd : t I will set forward 
 
 straight. 
 North. Honourable friends, and native peers. 
 That have chosen me to be the leader 
 Of these martial troops, to march against 
 The sister of our late dead sovereign ; 
 Bear witness of my much unwillingness 
 In fui'thering these attempts. I rather joy 
 To think upon oiu- ancient victories 
 Against the French and Spaniard, whose high pride 
 We levell'd with the waves of British shore. 
 Dying the haven of Britain J with guilty blood. 
 Till all the harbour seem'd a sanguine pool. 
 Or we desire these arms were now to war 
 'Gainst the perfidious northern enemy. 
 Who, trembling at our first shock, voice, and sight, 
 Like cowards turn'd thek backs with shamefiil 
 
 flight. 
 But those rich spoUs are past : we are now to go. 
 Being native fiiends, against a native foe. 
 In your hands we leave the queen elected : 
 She hath seizure of the Tower. If you 
 Be confident, as you have sworn yourselves, 
 True liegemen to her highness, she no doubt 
 With royal favour will remunerate 
 The least of yom- deserts. 
 
 * Enter Northumberland, &c.] Scene. London, or in its 
 neighbourhood ? 
 
 t arraign'd^ i. e. arranged : Shakespeare, Spenser, and 
 other old writers, have darraign, in the same sense. 
 
 t .Bri/ai7<] The old copies " J?W<.-".— TheKev. J. Mitford 
 {Gent. Mag. for June 1833, p. 491) would read " Brute,"— 
 which helps the metre somewhat, but does not improve 
 the sense. 
 
188 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS WYATT. 
 
 Farewell ; my tears into your bosoms fall ; 
 With one embrace I do include you all. 
 
 Aruii. My lord moat lov'd.witb what a mourning 
 heart 
 I take your farewell, let the afler-signs 
 Of my employment witness. I protest, 
 Did not the sacred person of my queen, 
 Whose weal I tender as my soul's chief bliss, 
 Urge my abode, I would not think it shame 
 To trail a pike where you were general. 
 But wishes are iu vain ; I am bound to stay, 
 And urgent business calls your grace away : 
 See, on my knees I humbly take my leave. 
 And steep my words with teais. 
 
 North. Kind Anmdel, 
 I bind thee to my love : once more, farewelL 
 
 Arun. Heavens give yom* grace success ! 
 Commend us to the queen and to your son : 
 Within one week I hope war will be done. [Exit. 
 
 Brett, Come, my lords, shall us march ? 
 
 North. Ay, ay, for God's sake, on : 
 'Tis more than time, my friends, that we were 
 gone, ^ [E.ieunt. 
 
 EtUer Troasuror omi Porter.* 
 Treou. WHiat, ho, porter ! open the gate. 
 Porter. I beseech your honour to pardon me ; 
 The council hath given strict coumiand not 
 
 any 
 •Shall puss this way. 
 
 Treat. Why, you idle fellow. 
 Am I not sent u]>oa the queen's affairs. 
 Commanded by the lords ? and know you not 
 Timt I am treasurer 1 Come, open the gate : 
 You ilo you know not wiiat 
 
 Porter. Well, my lord, I do adventure, on your 
 word. 
 The dukes' displeasure ; all the council-board 
 Iksaides may bo u>y heavy enemies ; 
 IJut go, o' Ood's nnmo ! I the worst will prove. 
 And if 1 die, I die for him I love. 
 
 Treas. I lliuuk thco, and will warrant thee from 
 death. 
 la my huno roady 1 
 Porirr. It is, uiy lord. 
 
 Trtfu. Then will 1 lly tlu* fearful couucilboard. 
 
 [Ktit. 
 Porter. My heart miagivos mo, I huvo done 
 oinlts ; 
 Yot being a councillor, one of the number, 
 NoUiii.K con prov.i uhum. Now shall I know 
 The w.Jint ; Uoro oouim uiy lA)nl of Arundel. 
 
 Tvm% 
 
 "r -I'll tiMUr\ Booue. Court of tbo 
 
 Elder Abunbel. 
 Arun. Porter, did the lord treasurer pass tl. 
 
 way? 
 Porter, But now, my gracious lord. 
 Arun, Ungracious villain, follow, bring Li; 
 back again; 
 If not by fair means, bring him back by force. 
 .Vud hear you, sirrah, as you go, will* the lord 
 
 mayor. 
 And some aldermen of his brethren. 
 And some especuU citizens of note. 
 To attend our further pleasures presently. 
 The treasurer fled ; the duke is but newly arrested ; 
 Some purpose, on my life, to cross their plots : 
 We'll set strong watches, see gates and walls well 
 
 mann'd. 
 'Tis ten to one but princely innocence 
 Is these strange turmoils' wisest violence. 
 
 t WixcHESTER, Ar0ni>ex, and of A«r Lords, discovend; the 
 Lor4 Treasurer Lmeeling at the council-table. 
 
 A run. Though your attempt, lord treasui-er, be 
 such 
 That hath no colour in these troublous times 
 But an apparent purpose of revolt 
 From the deceas'd king's will and ou^ decree. 
 Yet, for you are a councillor of note, 
 One of our number, and of high degree. 
 Before we any way presume to judge. 
 We give you leave to speak in your behal£ 
 
 Treas. My lord, the business of these troublous 
 times. 
 Binding us all still to respect the good 
 Of commonweal, yet doth it not debar 
 IVivate regard of us and of our own. 
 The general weal is troasur'd iu your bi*east, 
 And all my ablest powers have been emjdoy'd 
 To stir them there ; yot have I borne a part, 
 Laying the commons' troubles next my heart. 
 My oversight in parting without leave 
 Was no contempt, but only for an hour, 
 To order homoatUurs, that none of mine 
 In tlio-so nice times should unto faction climb. 
 
 Arun. Nay, my good lord, be plain with us, I 
 pniy ; 
 Are you not griev'd that wo have given oousout 
 To Lndy Jane's election ? 
 
 Treun. My lards, I am not. 
 
 A rvn. ^poak like a gentleman ; upon your word, 
 Are you not diHcunlont \ 
 
 Treat. Troth, to bi- plain, 
 1 am not pleoii'd that two such princely maids, 
 
 • W/n ». 0. doalro. 
 
 f WtHchtitrr, iic.\ Soono. 
 
 A room lit tho Towor. 
 
THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS WYATT. 
 
 189 
 
 Liueally descended from our royal king, 
 
 And by his testimony confirm'd lieir[s], 
 
 If that their brother dying issueless,* 
 
 And cue that never dream'd it, never desir'd 
 
 The rule of sovereignty, 
 
 But with virgin's tears hath oft bewail'd her 
 
 misery. 
 Should politicly by us be nam'd a queen. 
 Arim. You have said nobly : sit and take your 
 place. 
 
 Enter Porter. 
 Porter. My lords. Sir Thomas Wyatt craves 
 access 
 Unto your honours. 
 Arv/n. Let. him come near. 
 Porter. Room for Sir Thomas "Wyatt ! 
 
 Enter Wyatt. 
 Wyatt. A divine spirit teach your honours truth, 
 Open your eyes of judgment to behold 
 The true legitimate Mary, your undoubted 
 
 sovereign ! 
 Arun. Arise, Sir Thomas; sit and take your 
 
 place. — 
 Now to our former business : 
 The obligation wherein we all stood bound 
 To the deceas'd late king's will and our decree, 
 His cousin Jane and the two absent dukes, 
 Cannot be conceal'd without great reproach 
 To us and to our issue. We have sworn, 
 In presence of the sacred host of heaven, 
 Unto our late young lord, to both the dukes, 
 That no impeachment should divert our hearts 
 From the election of the Lady Jane.f 
 To this end we have seiz'd her in the Tower, 
 By public proclamation made her queen ; 
 To this end we have arm'd the duke[s] with power, 
 
 * There is manifestly a line or lines wanting here. 
 t That no imxieachinent should divert ow hearts 
 
 From the election of the Lady Jane'] The old copies 
 have, — 
 
 " From the impeachment of the Lady Jane," — 
 the word " impeachment " having been repeated from the 
 preceding line by a mistake of the transcriber or printer. 
 That the first "impeachment," — i.e. hindrance, let, im- 
 pediment, — is right, there can be no doubt ; and that 
 in the second line "election" is tlie author's word, seems 
 equally certain ; compare what Arundel has said a little 
 before, — 
 
 "Are you not griev'd that we have given consent 
 
 To Lady Jane's election ? " 
 (The reading of this passage proposed by the Rev. J. 
 Mitford {Gent. Mag. for June 1833, p. 492),— 
 
 " That no impediment should divert our hearts 
 
 From the impeachment of the Lady Jane," — 
 alters the right word in the first line, and leaves the 
 wrong one in the second.) 
 
 Given them commission under our own hands 
 
 To pass against the lady, yea, perform* 
 
 In hostile manner ; and no doubt the spleen 
 
 Of the undaunted spirit of Northumber's earl 
 
 Will not be call'd with writings of repeal. 
 
 Advice in this I hold it better far. 
 
 To keep the course we run, than, seeking change, 
 
 Hazard our lives, our heu's, and the realm.-t* 
 
 Wyatt. In actions roving from the bent of truth 
 We have no precedent thus to persist 
 But the bare name of worldly policy. 
 If others have ground from justice and the law. 
 As well divine as politic agreeing, 
 They are for no cause to be disinherited. 
 If you not seven years since to that effect 
 Swore to the father to maintain his seed, 
 What dispensation hath acquitted you 
 From your first sacred vows? You'll saji-, the will 
 Extorted from a child. 0, let mine eyes. 
 In naming that sweet youth, observe their part, 
 Pouring down tears, sent from my swelling heart 
 God's mother, I turn J child ! but I'll go on. 
 Say that the will were his, forc'd by no trick. 
 But for religion's love his simple act. 
 Yet note how much you err. You were sworn 
 
 before 
 To a man's will, and not a will alone. 
 But strengthen'd by an act of parliament. 
 Besides this sacred proof, the princely maids. 
 Had they no will nor act to prove their right, — 
 Have birthrights no privilege, being a plea so strong 
 As cannot be refell'd but by plain wrong? 
 Now were you touch'd. The lady in [the] Tower, 
 Alas, she's innocent of any § claim ; 
 Trust me, she 'd think it a most happy life. 
 To leave a queen's and keep a lady's name. 
 And for the dukes, your warrants sent them forth; 
 Let the same warrants call them back again : 
 If they refuse to come, the realm, not they. 
 Must be regarded. Be strong and bold. 
 We are the people's factors. Save our sons " 
 From killing one another ; be afraid 
 To tempt both heaven and earth. So, I have said. 
 Arun. Why, then, give order that she shall be 
 
 queen. 
 Send for the mayor. Her errors we'll forget. 
 Hoping she will forgive. 
 
 * the lady, yea, perform] The old copies "tlie Lady. You 
 pierforme." — As the passage now stands, "the lady" 
 means Mary. But qy. ? "To pass against the lady's foes 
 perforce," &c., — "the lady's," meaning tte lady Jane' si 
 
 t the realml The old copies " the realmes " (which, though 
 sense, is at variance with "the realm" in the next speech). 
 
 t turn} The old copies "tearm£." 
 
 § any] The old copies " my." 
 
190 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOIVIAS WYATT. 
 
 Wyatt. Never make doubt : 
 Setting her ceremonioiis order by, 
 She is pure within, and luiMly chaste without 
 
 Arun. Give order to keep fast the La.ly Jane. | 
 Dissolve the council. Let us leave the Tower, 
 And in the city hold our audience. 
 
 Wyatt. You have advisd well, honourable , 
 lords : I 
 
 So will the citizens be wholly ours ; | 
 
 And if the duk.-.« be crof^s, well cross their powers. 
 
 [Ejctiint. 
 
 Ent'T lii'.CTT, < lown, and Soldiers.* 
 Brett. Lancepersado.t quarter, quarter. 
 Cloxcn. What shall we quarter, captam ? 
 Brett. Why, the soldiers. 
 Clown. Why, they are not hanged nor drawn 
 
 yet 
 
 Brttt. Sir, I mean quarter them, that the of- 
 fended multitude may pass in safety. 
 
 Clown. May we not take tolls of the pies and 
 the apple-women 1 
 
 Brttt. Not in any sort; the duke's pleasure will 
 jiass free.t 
 
 Clown. The commons shall be used with all 
 common courtesy, that go in rank like beans, 
 and cheesecakes on their heads instead of caps. 
 
 Brett. Sirrah, this is a famous university. 
 And those scholars; those lofty buildings and 
 
 goodly houses 
 Founded by noble patrons. But, no more : 
 Set a strong watch ; that be your chiofest care. 
 
 • BnUr Brttt, &<•.] Scono. A stroot In Cambridge. 
 
 \ Lancrjitrmitn] WritUii olun lancrpritado, lanetpttado, 
 lancfi^-nlr, •T Ui„<-r,„,uta : (Itiil. /ntifia fptzzata.) the 
 lowcut otliecr nf fiH.l, (iiie wlio in under the coriMiral. 
 
 " lie la » Kcutlrtiiait of no anoiont Ntnndinf; in Uio 
 niUltlB^, f'T ho draw» his |>odl(frco fmni tliu time of tlio 
 war, 1 ! :ind lilitmin, llcnrj- lI.kinK'sof 
 
 y^n- , und tlio Ein|>cTiir CliarlosV., 
 
 ^nj , ti.o Duke "f Httvoy, im the other 
 
 |i»rl. til lh<»«e wiini, when » ((cnllcmiin of a troop of 
 Jiorw fn sitv ►Vlnnli.h. Uttlo. "r riMimmntor, liad bn.ko 
 hU : . 
 ho V 
 
 by^. 
 
 wk.- "1. ilul lui nil g<MHt orUcm tiUi wkiu 
 
 (r,,, • vr lTi«t:t'itlon. «" Iti !i uli'-rl \\m« "Ur 
 
 ¥••1 
 d«> 
 
 U>r 
 
 Ihr ' I . ■ ■• 
 
 wr ^lilji ti{ Ula li«ii>t''|Mi»4l.t, lie ni^ido 
 
 l>ii and fur tlikt IiikI lumin allnwiuica 
 
 ■ ' • r "— Turner'* Palliti 
 
 -. Mil. AnI., V. I.. 
 
 I vUl JMJ*/H(] (^ "wMIImv* them poM/VM '7 
 
 Entrr a Countryman and « Maid. 
 Count. What's here? soldiers! 
 Brat. Fear not good speech. These rude armu 
 I bear 
 Are not to fright sweet gentle peace away,* 
 But to succour your lives. Pass peaceably away. 
 Clown. Cry "God save the queen," as you go, and 
 God send you a good market ! 
 
 Count. God save the queen ! what queen? there 
 lies the sense : 
 When we have none, it can be no offence. 
 
 Clown. What carry you there in your basket 1 
 Maid. Eggs, forsooth. 
 
 Clown. Well, cry "God save Queen Jane," as you 
 go, and God send you a good market 1 
 
 Maid. Is the right queen call'd Jane ] alack for 
 woe, 
 [That] at the first she was not christen'd so ! 
 
 [Exeunt Countryman and Maid. 
 
 Brett. Thus old and young still descant on her 
 
 name, 
 Nor lend no ear when we her style proclaim. 
 I fear, I fear,— Fear, Brett ! what shouldst thou 
 
 fear \ 
 Thou hast a breast compos'd of adamant. 
 Fall what ill betide, 
 My anchor is cast, and I in harbour rido. 
 
 ^- \f.ifunt. 
 
 ^ ^" 
 
 Enter Northttmberu^np. Hi-ntingpon, W \ a i r, and 
 
 Soldiers, t 
 Wyatt. My lord, 'tis true, you sent unto the 
 council 
 For fresh supplies: what succour, what supplies? 
 Happy is he can draw his nock out of the collar, 
 And make his peace with Mary. 
 
 North. How stands the treasurer addicted to 
 
 us? 
 Wyatt. I had forgot : when we wore at council. 
 Ho stole away, and went home to his house, 
 And by much entreaty was won to return : 
 In brief, tlioy all incline to Queen Mary. 
 My lord, farowoll : 
 
 Kach hasty hour will colder tidings toll. [E-rit. 
 North. Como they in thunder, wo will moot with 
 them : 
 In the lo«idi'st languago that their onlnance speaks, 
 0\iis cliall answer tlu-ira.— Call n\c a herald, 
 
 .-I to fright tvftt gtntU p««/y <nr<iw) In (lie old 
 ooptoii thu» :— 
 
 " /»f nnt lo fljfht? Stertt, dmllf Prart av«*i." 
 Tho "rtiniy" Bt the end of U«e next lino l» very quest id i- 
 •blo: f|y '"olonjf"? 
 
 \ Ktttrr S»nkuml)fH<ind,kc'\ Scone. Aii.'tlKr pirt of 
 ttie Mimo town. 
 
THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS WYATT. 
 
 191 
 
 And iu the market-place pi'oclaim Queen Jane. 
 
 [A Herald called in. 
 The streets are full, the town is populous, 
 The people gape for novelty. — Trumpets, speak 
 
 to them, 
 That they may answer with an echoing cry, 
 " God save Queen Jane, God save her majesty ! " 
 [A tmmpet sounds, and no answer. The Herald 
 sounds a jiarlei/, and none answers. 
 
 Ha ! a bare report of trumpets ! 
 
 Are the slaves hoarse, or want they art to 
 
 speak? 
 me ! This town consists on famous colleges, 
 Such as know both how, and what, and when to 
 
 speak. 
 Well, yet we will proceed, 
 And smother what close envy hath decreed. 
 
 Enter Ambrose Dudley. 
 Ambrose, my son, what news ? 
 
 Amb. my thrice-honour'd father ! 
 North. Boy, speak the worst : 
 That which sounds deadliest, let me hoar that first. 
 Ami. The lords have all revolted from your fac- 
 tion. 
 North. We in ourselves are strong. 
 Amb. In Baynard's Castle was a council held. 
 Whither the mayor and sheriffs did resort. 
 And 'twas concluded to proclaim Queen Mary. 
 North. Then they revolt the allegiance from my 
 daughter. 
 And give it to another? 
 
 Amb. True, my thrice-honour'd father : 
 Besides, my brother Guildford and his wife. 
 Where she was proclaim'd queen, are now close 
 
 prisoners. 
 Namely in the Tower. 
 
 North. God take them to his mercy ! they had 
 need 
 Of grace and patience, for they both must bleed. 
 Poor innocent souls, they both from guilt are free ! 
 Amb. my thrice-honour'd father, might I ad- 
 vise you, 
 Fly to your manor, there study for your safety. 
 
 North. Boy, thou say'st well : 
 And since the lords have all revolted from rae, 
 Myself will now revolt against myself. 
 Call me a herald to fill their empty ears : — 
 Assist me, son : — my good Lord Huntingdon, 
 Even in this market-town proclaim Queen Mary. 
 
 A trumpet sounds a x^arley, the Herald proclaims. 
 Her. Mary, by the grace of God, Queen of Eng- 
 land, France, and Ireland, defendress of the faith, 
 Amen ! [Within, a shout and a flourish. 
 
 North. Amen ! I bear a part ; 
 Ay, with my tongue, — I do not with my heart. 
 Now they can cry, now they can bawl and yell : 
 Base-minded slaves, sink may your souls to hell ! 
 
 Enter Koose with letters. 
 Roose. My honour'd lord, the council greets you 
 with 
 These letters. 
 
 North. Stay, Master Roose ; ere you depart, 
 receive 
 An answer and reward. [He readeth the letter. 
 "In the sovereign name of Mary our queen, you 
 shall, upon the sight hereof, surcease your arms, 
 discharge your soldiers, and presently repair unto 
 the court, or else to be held as an arch-traitor." 
 
 'Tis short and sharp. 
 
 Master Eoose, we do obey your warrant : 
 
 But, I pray, tell me, how do all our fx-iends at 
 
 court ? 
 Is there not a great mortality amongst them ? 
 Is there not a number of them dead of late. 
 Since I came thence ? 
 
 Roose. My gracious lord, not any. 
 North. Master Roose, it cannot be : I will 
 assure you. 
 At my departure thence I left living there at least 
 Five hundred friends, and now I have not one. 
 Simply, not one : friends ! ha, ha, ha ! Commission, 
 Thou must be my friend, 
 
 And stand betwixt me and the stroke of death ; 
 Were thy date out, my life's date were but short ; 
 They are cold friends that kill their friends in 
 sport. 
 Amb. Here comes your honour'd friend, the Earl 
 of Arundel. 
 
 Enter Arundel. 
 
 North. My honour'd friend, 
 
 Arun. I am no friend to traitors : 
 In my most high and princely sovereign's name, 
 I do arrest your honour of high treason. 
 
 North. A traitor, Arundel ! 
 Have I not your hand in my commission ? 
 Let me pci'use it : as I take 't, 'tis here ; 
 And by your warrant have [I] so strict proceeded : 
 Are the limits of my wari'ant bi'oke 1 answer me. 
 
 Arun. It may be that it hath pleas'd her 
 majesty 
 To pardon us, and for to punish you ; 
 I know no other reason : this I must ; 
 I am commanded, and the act is just. 
 
 North. And I obey you. When we parted last, 
 My lord of Arundel, our farewell was 
 
192 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS WYATT. 
 
 Better than our greeting now : then you cried, 
 
 " God speed " ; 
 Now you come on mo, ere you say, " Take heed " ; 
 Tlien you did owe me your bett bloods, u.iy, griev'd 
 You could not spend them in my service ; 0, then 
 It waa a double death to stay behind ! 
 But I am overtook, and you are kind, 
 I am, beshrew you else : but I submit ; 
 My crime is great, and I must answer it. 
 
 Arun. You must, with your three sons, be 
 guarded safe 
 Unto the Tower; with you those lords and 
 
 knights 
 Tliat in this faction did associate you : 
 For BO I am enjoin'd. 
 
 Then peaceably let us conduct you thither. 
 North. my children, my soul weeps endless 
 tears for you ! 
 
 0, at the general sessions, when all souls 
 Stand at the bar of justice, ixnd hold up 
 Their new-immortali/^d hands, 0, then 
 Let the remembrance of their tragic ends 
 Be raz'd out of the bead-roll of my sins ! 
 AVhenc'er the black book of my crime 's unclasp'd, 
 Let not tliese scarlet letters be found there ; 
 
 Of ail the rest only that page be clear ! 
 But come, to my arraignment, then to death. 
 The (jueon and you have long aim'd at this head : 
 If to my cbililren she sweet grace extend, 
 My Boul hath peace, and I embrace my end. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 BnUr Suffolk.* 
 fittf. Three days are past, Monday, Tuesday, and 
 WodiiCHday too. 
 Yet my protfHtiiig nt-n-ant is not come : 
 Himself conducted mo to this hard lodging, 
 A Hiinplo cabin for so great a jirince ; 
 And tlien ho Mwore, but oatlis you see are vain. 
 That ho would hourly como and visit me. I 
 
 1, tlmt was wont to surfeit in estate, 
 
 Am now through hunger almoKt desolate. 
 
 h'ntrr lloiiiji, ttetalin(i, with biititt and Imuj. 
 Humes. My lord, — 
 Ak/. Ne<l Ilouioa, speak, iia«t thou brought mo 
 
 meat t 
 
 Home*. With much ado, my lonl, meat, broad, 
 und winn : 
 ^Whili. you rofrtMih youmolf, I will record 
 Tho cauM of iiij long iitay. 
 
 *■■'" ''■''"' " •' .1 hnrclo rnllow 
 
 .tinr iif Aatloy, • 
 ... , -^ a|>|>raliaii(iml In 
 
 A*!l*i »-uk. M* i»"».i«ta«l«t»r(M., »ol. Jr U. o«l. Idoa. 
 
 Suff. I prithee, do : 
 Need bids me eat, need bids me hear thee too. 
 
 Homes. Tho night I left you in the hollow tret . 
 My hoase was search'd. 
 
 Suff. Go on, go on. 
 
 Hornet. And I no sooner enter'd but attached; 
 Thrcatcn'd the rack, an if I did not yield 
 Your gracious self into their graceless hands. 
 
 Svff. And thou hast done 't, thou hast betrayed 
 me? 
 
 Homes. Done it ! 0, betray you ! 0, no ! 
 First would I see my lov6d wife and children 
 Murder'd and to-ss'd on speara, before I would 
 Deliver your grace unto their hands ; for they 
 Intend your death, — 
 
 Suff. Go on, go on. 
 
 Homes. And offer'd 
 A thousand crowns to him that can bring news 
 Of your abode : 'twas offer'd in my hands, 
 ^Vhich I beseech may stop my vital breath, 
 When I am fec'd with gold to work your death. 
 
 Enter Sheriff and OflBcers. 
 Sher. See, yonder sits the duke. 
 Suff. I kiss thee in requital of this love. 
 Homes. And, in requital of so great a grace, 
 I kiss your hand that dcign'st* to kiss my face. 
 Sher. So Judas kiss'd his master. — Seize the 
 
 duke. 
 Suff. Ah me ! Ned Homes, we are undone; both 
 thou 
 And I betray'd ! 
 
 Sher. My lord, late Duko of Suffolk, in her 
 hii^hness' 
 Name, I do arrest you of high treason. 
 
 Suff. I do obey, and only crave this kindness. 
 You would be good unto my .servant Flomes, 
 Wlio+ in relieving me hath but porform'd 
 The duty of a servant to his lord. 
 
 Sher. You are docoiv'd, sir, in your servant 
 much ; 
 He is tho man that did betray you. — 
 Hero, Master Homes, towai-ds your thousand 
 
 poimds. 
 Hero is a hundred marks; 
 
 Come to the Exehei|uer, you shall have tho rest. 
 Stiff. Hast thou botray'd mef yet with such a 
 tongue, 
 So Binootldy oil'd, slight off my danger's fear? 
 0, bronk, my heart! tliis gi-ief 's too groat to boar. 
 
 • your A(ific< that ,iriff„;i, AaJ I. o. tlio linnd of tlictt 
 Umt doUni'nt, Ac— Tlio oUJ copioa Imvo "your hon.i thntj 
 itnrt;" tto.,—",lant" Iwliij; ovldontly a mUprliit for] 
 " ilaiHtt,"—ilainttt (ilriijnft). 
 
 t If ho] Tho old ctiploN " n'htre." 
 
THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS WYATT. 
 
 193 
 
 Homes. Pardon me, my lord. 
 
 Suff. God pardon thee, 
 And lay not to thy soul this grievous sin ! 
 Farewell ; and when thou spend'st this ill-got gold, 
 Remember how thy master's life was sold : 
 Thy lord that gave thee lordships, made thee great, 
 Yet thou betray'd'st him as he sat at meat. — 
 On to my grave ! 'tis time that I were dead, 
 When he that held my heart betrays my head. 
 
 [ExevM Suffolk, Sheriff, and Officers. 
 
 Homes. God, God, that ever I was born ! 
 This deed hath made me slave to abject scorn. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Enter the Clown. 
 Clown. poor shrimp, how art thou fallen away 
 for want of mouching ! 0, colon * cries out most 
 tyrannically ! the little gut hath no mercy.^ 
 What's here ? victuals ! rare, good ! 
 Feed chops, drink throat ; good victuals make 
 good blood. 
 
 Re-enter Homes, with a halter about his neck. 
 But stay, who's here] more sheriffs, more search- 
 ers ] 0, no, this is Homes, that betrayed his 
 honest master : how, with a halter about his neck ! 
 I hope he doth not mean to hang himself. I'll 
 step aside. 
 
 Homes. This is the place where I betray'd my 
 lord ; 
 This is the place where oft I have reliev'd, 
 And villain I betray'd him to the jaws of death. 
 But here before I fui-ther will proceed, 
 Here will I bury this enticing gold : 
 Lie there, damn'd fiend, never serve humant more ! 
 
 Clown. This is rare : now ia this mood if he 
 would hang himself, 'twere excellent. 
 
 Homes. Shall I ask mercy ? no, it is too late ; 
 Heaven will not hear, and I am desperate. 
 
 [Stra'/igles himself. 
 
 Clown. So, so, a very good ending : would all 
 false servants might drink of the same sauce ! 
 Gold, you are first mine : you must help [me] to shift 
 myself into some counterfeit suit of apparel, and 
 then to London. If my old master be hanged, 
 why, so : if not, why, rustic and lustic. Yet, before 
 I go, I do not cai'e if I throw this dog in a ditch. 
 — Come away, dissembler. — This cannot choose 
 but be a hundred pound, it weighs so heavy. 
 
 [Exit with the hody of Homes. 
 
 * coloii] A word frequently in the mouth of hungry 
 personages in our old dramas : it is the largest of the 
 human intestines, not "the little gut," as the Clown here 
 calls it. 
 
 t humati] Our dictionaries, I believe, do not acknow- 
 ledge this word as a substantive : but Chapman uses it 
 frequently as such. 
 
 Enter Queen Mary,* Winchester, Norfolk, Pembroke, 
 Wyatt, Arundel, and Attendants. 
 
 Q. Mary. By God's assistance and the power of 
 heaven. 
 After our troubles, we are safely set 
 In our inheritance : for which we do subscribe 
 The praise and benefit to God ; next, thanks 
 To you, my lords. Now shall the sanctuary. 
 And the house of the Most High, be newly built ; 
 The ancient honours due unto the church, 
 Buried within the ruin'd+ monasteries. 
 Shall lift their stately heads and rise again. 
 To astonish the destroyers' wondering eyes. 
 Zeal shall be deck'd in gold : reUgion, 
 Not like a virgin robb'd of all her pomp. 
 But bravely J shining in her gems of state. 
 Like a fair bride be offer'd to the Lord. 
 To buLld§ large houses, pull no churches down. 
 Rather enrich the temple with our crown : 
 Better a poor queen than the subjects poor. 
 
 Win. May it please your grace to give release 
 unto 
 Such ancient bishops that have lost their honours 
 In the church-affairs. 
 
 Q. Mary. We have given order 
 To the Duke of Norfolk to release them. 
 
 Arun. Your sacred highness will no doubt be 
 mindful 
 Of the late oath you took at Framlingham. 
 
 Q. Mary. 0, my lord of Arundel, we remember 
 that: 
 But shall a subject force his prince to swear 
 Contrary to her conscience and the law ? 
 We here release unto our faithful people 
 One entire subsidy, due unto the crown 
 In our dead brother's days. The commonalty 
 Shall not be overburden'd ia our reign : 
 Let them be liberal in religion, 
 And we will spare their treasure to themselves. 
 Better a poor piince than the nation poor : 
 The subjects' treasure is the sovereign's store. 
 
 Arum. What is yovu' highness' pleasure about 
 the rebels ? 
 
 Q. Mary. The queen-like rebel, II mean you not, 
 Queen Jane ? 
 
 Arun. Guildford, and Jane, with great Northum- 
 berland, 
 And haughty Suffolk's duke. 
 
 * Enter Queen, Mary] Scene. London. A room in the 
 palace. 
 
 t ruin'd] The old copies " Ruine." 
 
 X bravely] The old copies " briefly." 
 
 § To build, &c.] Something that preceded this has 
 dropt out. 
 
 II rebel] The old copies " Rebels." 
 
194 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS WYATT. 
 
 Q. Mary. The Duke of Sufifolk 
 Is not yet apprehended : therefore, my lords, 
 Some of you most dear to us in love 
 Be careful of that charge : the rest we'll leave 
 For trial of the other prisoners. 
 
 Wyatt. The La<.ly Jane, most mighty sovereign, 
 Allied to you in blood, — 
 For she's the ilau^hter of your father's sister, 
 Mary the Queen of France, Charles Brandon's wife, 
 Your niece, your next of blood except your 
 
 sister, — 
 Deserves some pity ; so doth youthful Guildford. 
 Win. Such pity as the law allows to traitors. 
 Norf. They were miijled by their ambitiou.s 
 
 fathers. 
 Win. What son to obey his father proves a 
 traitor, 
 Must buy their dLsobedienco with their death. 
 Wyatt. My lord of Winchester still thirsts for 
 
 blood. 
 Q. Mary. Wyatt, no more; the law shall be 
 their judge : 
 Mercy to mean offenders we'll ostend, 
 Not unto such that dare usurp our crown. 
 J run. Count Egmout, the ambassador from 
 Spain, 
 Attends your highness' answer 'bout* those 
 
 letters 
 Sent from the emperor in his sou's behalf. 
 
 Q. Mary. In the behalf of lovely, princely Philip, 
 Whoso person wo have shrined in our heart, 
 At the first sight of his delightful picture ? 
 That picture should have power to kindle t love 
 In royal breants : the darts of love ara words. 
 Pictures, conceit ; ho will i>revail by any. 
 Your counsel, lords, about this foreign business. 
 
 Arun. I say, an it like your royul majesty, 
 A royal treaty, and to bo confinii'd ; 
 And I allow the match. 
 
 IVin. Allow It, lords ! wo have cause to thank 
 our Ood 
 Tlut such ft mighty prince luj Philip is. 
 Son to Uio emperor, heir to wealthy Spain 
 And luany Mpooious king<lomii, will vouciiuafo— - 
 Wyatt. Vouchsafe, my lonl of Winohostei ! 
 
 pray, what ( 
 Win. To gmoo our mighty uovoroign with his 
 
 honourublo title. 
 Wyatt. To marry with our quoeii, mean you 
 
 not *o\ 
 Wim. I do ; what then ? 
 
 i TIm c4d o<>|iIm •• bnmgki " 
 t ktiyUt\ TttQ old (»|)Um "H»^i." 
 
 Wyatt. God ! 
 Is she a beggar, a forsaken maid, 
 i That she hath need of grace from foreign prince 
 By God's dear mother, — 0, God pardon! swear It — 
 Methinks she is a fair and lovely prince ; 
 Her only beauty, were she of mean birth. 
 Able to make the greatest potentate, 
 Ay, the great emperor of the mighty Cham, 
 That hath more nations under his command 
 Thau Spanish Philip's like to inherit towns, 
 To come and lay his sceptre at her feet. 
 And to entreat her to vouchsafe the grace 
 To take him and his kingdom to her mercy. 
 
 Win. Wyatt, you ai'o too hot. 
 
 Wyatt. And you too proud. 
 Vouchsafe ! 0, base ! I hope she'll not vouchsafe 
 To take the emperor's son to her dear mercy. 
 
 Q. Mary. Proceed, my lord of Winchester, I 
 pray. 
 
 Win. Then still I say we have cause to thank 
 our God 
 That such a mighty prince will look so low 
 As to respect this island and our queen. 
 
 Wyatt. Pardon me, madam j ho respects * your 
 island 
 More than your pereon : think of that. 
 
 Norf. Wyatt, you wrong tho ali'ection of the 
 prince ; 
 For he desires no fortresses nor towns, 
 Nor to bear any office, rule, or state, 
 Either by person or by substitute. 
 Nor yet himself to be a councillor 
 In our affairs. 
 
 Wyatt. What need he, noble lords, 
 To ask the fruit, when ho demands tho tree i 
 No castle, fortresses, nor towei-s of strength ! 
 It boots not, wlieu tho chiefost tower of all, 
 The key that opens unto all tho Umd, 
 I mean our gracious sovereign, must be his. 
 But he will bear no office in tho huid ! 
 And yet will marry with tho queen of all ; 
 Nor bo of council in the realm's alliiirs! 
 And yet tho (juocn onclosW in his lirms. 
 I do not liko this strange miu-riago : 
 The fox is subtle, and liis head once in, 
 Tho slender body easily will follow. 
 I gnuit ho offoi-H you, in name of »lower, 
 The yearly Hum of throoacoro thousivnd ducats, 
 BuMtdcH the sovontoon famous provinces. 
 And that tiio hoir succeeding from your loins 
 Siiall have tho sovereign rule of both the roulma : 
 What, shall this move your highness to the match f 
 
 • rx*iitct*\ Olio of tho oM oo|>io« " rttjKCl." 
 
THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS WYATT. 
 
 195 
 
 Spain is too far for England to inherit, 
 But England near enough for Spain to woo. 
 Q. Mary* Have not the kings of England, good 
 Sir Thomas, 
 Espous'd the daughters of our neighbour kings ? 
 Wyatt. I grant, your predecessors oft have sought 
 Their queen [s] from France, and somet imes t oo fro m 
 
 Spain ; 
 But never could I hear that England yet 
 Has been so base to seek a king from either. 
 'Tis pohcy, dear queen, no love at all. 
 
 Win. 'Tis love, great queen, no policy at all. 
 Wyatt. Which of you all dares justify this match. 
 And not be touch'd in conscience with an oath ? 
 Remember, 0, remember, I beseech you, 
 King Henry's last will and hLs act at court ! 
 I mean that royal actf of parliament 
 That does prohibit Spaniards from the land. 
 That will and act to which you all are sworn ; 
 And do not damn your souls with perjury. 
 Q. Mary. But that we know thee, Wyatt, to be 
 true 
 Unto the crown of England and to us. 
 Thy over-boldness should be paid with death : 
 But cease, for fear your libei'al J tongue offend- — 
 With one consent, my lords, you like this match ? 
 Omnes, except Wtatt. We do, great sovereign. 
 Q. Mary. Call in Count Egmont, honourable 
 lords. 
 
 Elder Egmont. 
 We have determin'd of your embassy. 
 And thus I plight our love to Philip's heart. 
 Embark you straight ; the wind blows wondrous 
 
 fair : 
 Till he shall land in England I'm all care. 
 
 [Exeunt oil except Wyatt. 
 Wyatt. And ere he land in England, I will offer 
 My loyal breast for him to tread upon. 
 0, who so forward, Wyatt, as thyself 
 To raise this troublesome queen in this her throne] 
 Philip is a Spaniard, a proud nation. 
 Whom naturally our countrymen abhor. 
 Assist me, gracious heavens, and you shall see 
 What hate I bear unto their slavery ! 
 I'll into Kent, there miister up my friends, 
 To save this coimtry, and this realm defend. 
 
 -'^^ "•' [Exit. 
 
 Enter Guildford, Jane, and Lieutenant. § 
 Guild. Good morrow to the partner || of my woe. 
 
 * Q. Mary.] The old copies "Win." 
 t art] The old copies " Court " (an error occasioned by 
 "court" in the preceding line). 
 { liberal] i. e. licentiously free. 
 § E)Uer Guildford, &c.] A room in the Tower. 
 II partner] The old copies "Patron." (Compare Shake- 
 
 Jane. Good morrow to my lord, my lovely Dudley : 
 Why do you look so sad, my dearest lord 1 
 
 Guild. Nay, why doth Jane thus with a heavy eye, 
 I And a defected look, salute the day 1 
 I Sorrow doth ill become thy silver brow : 
 Sad grief lies dead, so long as thou liv'st fair ; 
 In my Jane's joy I do not care for care. 
 Jane. My looks, my love, are sorted with my 
 heart : 
 The sun himself doth scantly show his face. 
 Out of this firm gi-ate you may perceive 
 The Tower-hill throng'd with store of people, 
 As if they gap'd for some strange novelty. 
 
 Guild. Though sleep do seldom dwell in men 
 of care. 
 Yet I did this night sleep, and this night dream'd 
 : My princely father, great Northumberland, 
 Was married to a stately bride ; 
 And then methought, just on his bridal day, 
 A poison'd draught did take his life away. 
 
 Jane. Let not fond* visions so appal my love; 
 For dreams do oftentimes contrkiy prove. 
 
 Guild. The nights are tedious, and the days 
 are sad : 
 And see you how the people stand in heaps, 
 Each man sad-looking on his oppos'd object, 
 As if a general passion possess'd them ? 
 Their eyes do seem as dropping as the moon, 
 As if prepared for a tragedy ; 
 For never swarms of people there do tread, 
 But to rob life and to enrich the dead. 
 And show they wept.f 
 
 Ideut. My lord, they did so, for I was there. 
 Guild. I pray, resolve us, good Master Lieutenant, 
 Who was it yonder that tender'd up his life 
 To nature's death 1 
 
 Lieut. Pardon me, my lord ; 
 'Tis felony to acquaint you with [the] death 
 Of any prisoner ; yet, to resolve your grace. 
 It was yom- father, great Noi-thumberland, 
 That this day lost his head. 
 
 Guild. Peace rest his soul ! 
 His sins be buried in his grave, 
 And not remember'd in his epitaph ! J — 
 But who comes here ? 
 
 speare's First Part of Henry VJ., act iii. sc. 2, " And will 
 be partner of your weal or woe.") 
 
 * fond] i. e. foolish, vain. 
 
 t And show they wept] Either something which preceded 
 these words has dropt out, or else they are corrupted. 
 
 X His sins be buried in Ms grave. 
 And not remember'd in his epitaph] From Shakespeare ; 
 
 " Thy ignomy sleep with thee in the grave. 
 But not remember'd in thy epitaph." 
 
 First Part of Henry IV., act v. sc. iv. 
 o 2 
 
196 
 
 THE FAJklOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS WYATT. 
 
 Jane. My father prisoner ! 
 
 EtUer 8vrroiJi,ffytardtd/crlh. 
 Suff. OJaue, now naught but fear! tby title and 
 Thy sUte thou now must leave for a small grave. 
 Had I been contented to ha' been great, I had 
 
 stood ; 
 But now my rising is puUM downi with blood. 
 Farewell !— Point me my hoasc of prayers. 
 
 Jane. Is grief 
 So short ] 'Twas wont to bo full of words, 'tis 
 
 true; 
 But now death's lesson bids a cold adieu. 
 Farewell! Thus friends on desperate journeys 
 
 part; 
 Breaking off words with tears, that swell the 
 heart [Eurii Suffolk gua/rdcd. 
 
 LUxU. 'Tis the pleasure of the queen that you 
 part lodgings 
 Till your arraignment, which must be to-morrow. 
 Jane. Good Master Lieutenant, let us pray to- 
 gether. 
 LievU. Pardon me, madam, I may not; they 
 that owe you, sway mc. 
 
 Qviild. Entreat not, Jane : though she our 
 bodies part. 
 Our souls Bhall meet : farewell, my love I 
 
 Jane. My Dudley, my own heart ! {Exeunt. 
 
 " c ' . . 
 BnUr WvATT, Haupick, Islkv, Rodston, and Sfjldiers.* 
 
 Wyalt. Hold, drum ! Stand, gentlemen ! Give 
 
 the word along ! 
 Soldiert. Stand, stimd ! 
 
 Wyatt. Masters, friends, soldiers, and therefore 
 gentlemen, 
 I know 
 
 Bouio of you wear warm purses lin'd with gold : 
 To tlium I Hpcok not ; but to such lean knaves 
 Tlmt cannot put up crosses + tlius I say, — 
 Fight vnliiuitly, and, by the Mary God, 
 You that huvo all your life time silver lack'd, 
 Shall now g«t crowns, — marry, they must bo 
 crack'iL 
 Pint Sold. No matter; we'll change them for 
 wLito money. 
 
 WyiUt. But it must noods bo so, dear country- 
 niou ; 
 For ■oldtom oro the mastoni of war's mint ; 
 IUow« ar« the Ntoinpit llioy set upon with bulleUt, 
 An<l broken {latoa nro when tlie braiuH lio spilt, 
 Tli«Ni lit(lit oMwns that with bloo«l aro doublo-gilt 
 
 But that's not all that your stout hearts shall can 
 Stick to this glorious qiuurel, and your names 
 Shall stand in chronicles, rank'd even with kings. 
 You free your country from base Spanish thrall. 
 From ignominious slavery: who can 
 Digest* a Spaniard that's a true Englishman ? 
 First Sold. Would he might choke that digests 
 
 him! 
 
 Wyatt. He that loves freedom and his country 
 
 cry 
 "A Wyatt!" he that will not, with my heart. 
 Let him stand forth, shake hands, and we'B 
 
 depart.t 
 Soldiers. A W^yatt, a Wyatt, a Wyatt ! 
 
 Enter Norroy, sounding a trumpet. 
 Harp. Forbear, or with the breath thy trumpet 
 spends 
 This shall let forth thy soul. 
 
 Norroy. I am a herald, 
 And challenge safety by the law of arms. 
 
 Uai'i). So shalt thou when thou art lawfully 
 
 employ'd. 
 
 Wyatt. What loud knave's that 1 
 
 Norroy. No knave. Sir Thomas; 1 am a tru« 
 
 man 
 
 To my queen, to whom thou art a traitor. 
 
 Soldiers. Knock him down. 
 
 Wyatt. Knock him down ! fie, no ; 
 
 We'll handle him, ho shall sound befoi-e he go. 
 
 Harp. He comes from Norfolk and those 
 
 fawning lords. 
 
 In Mary's name, weighing out life to them 
 
 That will with baseness buy J it : seize on him 
 
 As a pernicious enemy. 
 
 Wyatt. Sir George, 
 Bo rul'd ; since wc profess the art of war, 
 Let's not bo hiss'd at for our ignorance : 
 He shall pas.-? and repass, juggle the best ho can.— 
 Lead him into the city. — Norroy, sot forth. 
 Sot forth thy brazen throat, and call all Rochester 
 About thoo ; do thy office ; 
 Fill their light heads with proclamation.'', do. 
 Catch fools with liino-twigs dipt with pardons. — 
 But, Sir George, and good Sir Harry Isley, 
 If thi.s gallant ojion his mouth too wide, 
 Powder the varlet, pistol him, firo the roof 
 That's o't-r his mouth. 
 
 Ho oravcH the law of arms, and he shall ha't : 
 Toacli him our law, to cut's throat if ho pmtc. — 
 If louder reach thy procliinuition. 
 The Lord havo morcy upon thee I 
 
 * IHottt] Tiio oUl ooplM " Dijvttl." See noto* , p. 122. 
 t <Uiiart\\ o. i>nrt. t 6"y| TUo«iunrtoof 1007 "burw." 
 
THE FAI^IOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS WTATT. 
 
 397 
 
 Norroy. Sir Thomas, I must do my office. 
 Harp. Come, we'll do ours too. 
 Wyatt. Ay, ay, do, blow thyself hence. 
 
 [Exeunt Habper, Islet, and Norroy. 
 Whorsou, proud herald, because he can give ai-ms. 
 He thinks to cut us off by the elbows. — 
 Masters, and fellow soldiers, say will you leave 
 Old Tom Wyatt? 
 Omnes. No, no, no. 
 
 Wyatt. A march ! 'tis Norfolk's drum, upon my 
 life. 
 I pi-ay, see what drum it is. 
 
 yA cry ■within, "Arm." 
 
 Rod. The word is given ; "ai-m, arm" flies through 
 the camp. 
 As loud, though not so full of dread, as thunder: 
 For no man's cheeks look pale, but every face 
 Is lifted up above his foreman's head. 
 And every soldier does on tiptoe stand, 
 Shaking a drawn sword in his threatening hand. 
 
 Wyatt. At whom, at whose di-um ? 
 
 Bod. At Norfolk, Norfolk's drum. 
 With him comes Arundel. You may behold 
 The silken faces of theii- ensigns show 
 Nothing but wrinkles straggling in the wind : 
 Norfolk rides foremostly, his crest well known ; 
 Proud as if all our heads were now his own. 
 
 Wyatt. Soft ! he shall pay more for them. 
 Sir Eobei-t Rodston, bring om- musketeers 
 To flank our pikes ; let all our archery fall off 
 In wings of shot a-both sides of the van, 
 To gall the first horse of the enemy 
 That shall come fiercely on our cannoneers : 
 Bid them to charge : — charge, my hearts ! 
 Omnes. Charge, charge ! 
 
 Wyatt. Saint George for England ! Wyatt for 
 poor Kent ! 
 Blood lost in country's quai-rel is nobly spent. 
 
 Re-enter Islet. 
 
 Isley. Base slave, hard-hearted fugitive. 
 He that you sent with Norroy, false Sir George, 
 Is fled to Norfolk. 
 
 Rod. Sir George Harper fled ! 
 
 Wyatt. I ne'er thought better of a coimterfeit : 
 His name was Harper, was it not ? let him go : 
 Henceforth all harpers*, for his sake, shall stand 
 
 * Henceforth all harpers, for his sale, shall stand 
 But for plain ninepence] "Tlie harp first appeared 
 upon the Irish money in his [Henry the Eighth's] reign." 
 — Ruding's Coinage, vol. ii. p. 443, ed. 1819. By a procla- 
 mation, set forth in 1G06, it was declared, "that every of 
 the said Harp Sfdllings should have and bear the name 
 and value only of twelve Pence Irish, according to the 
 old standard of that realm ; bemg m true value no more 
 than nine Pence English." Id. vol. iii. p. 112. 
 
 But for plain ninepence throughout all the land. 
 They come : no man give ground in these hot 
 
 cases ; 
 Be Englishmen, and beard them to their faces. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 Enter Norfolk, Aetjsdel, Brett, Clown, and Soldiers.* 
 Norf. Yonder the traitor marchcth with a 
 steel-bow 
 Bent on his sovereign and herf kingdom's peace. 
 To wave him to us with a flag of truce, 
 And tender him soft mercy, were to call 
 Our right in question. Therefore put in act 
 Your resolute intendments : if rebellion 
 Be sufier'd to take head, she lives too long ; 
 Treason doth swarm, therefore give signal to the 
 fight. 
 Brett. 'TLs good, 'tis good, my lord. 
 Norf. Where's Captain Brett 1 
 Brett. Here, my lord. 
 Noi'f. To do honour 
 To you, and those five himdred Londoners 
 That march after your colours, you shall charge 
 The traitor in the vanguard, whilst myself, 
 With noble Arimdel and stout Jerningham, 
 Second you in the main. 
 
 God and Saint George this day fight on our side, 
 While thus we tame a desperate rebel's pride ! 
 
 [Exeunt all txctpt Brett, Clown, and some Soldiers. 
 Brett. Countrymen and friends, and you the 
 most valiant sword-and-buckler-men of London, 
 the Duke of Norfolk in honour has promoted 
 you to the vanguard ; and why to the vanguard, 
 but because he knows you to be eager men, 
 martial men, men of good stomachs, very hot 
 shots, very actions J for valour, such as scorn to 
 shrink for a wetting, who will bear off any thing 
 with head and shoulders 1 
 
 Omnes. Well, forwards, good commander, for- 
 wards! 
 
 Brett. I am to lead you ; and whither ? to fight; 
 and with whom 1 with Wyatt ; and what is Wyatt? 
 a most famous and ai-ch-traitor— [asicZe] to nobody, 
 by this hand, that I know. 
 
 Omnes. Nay, speak out, good captain. 
 Brett. I say again,— Is worthy Norfolk gone? 
 Omnes. Ay, ay, gone, gone. 
 Brett. I say again, that Wyatt for rising thus 
 in arms, with the Kentish men dangling thus at 
 * Enter Norfolk, &c.] Another part of the field, 
 t htr] The old copies "his." 
 X actwus\ So Warner ; 
 " With diuers here not catolog'd, and for a cheefest take 
 All-adiw.s Candish, and of these eternall pen-worke 
 
 ™''^®"" Albion's England, p. 204, ed. 1012. 
 
198 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS WYATT. 
 
 hifl tail, is worthy to be hanged— [a#ide] like a 
 jewel in the kingdom's ear.— Say I well, my lads I 
 
 Omna. Forwards, forwards ! 
 Brett. And whosoever cuts off his head shall 
 have for his labour — 
 
 Clown. What shall I have ? I'll do't. 
 
 Brett. The pox, the plague, and all the diseases 
 the spittle- houses and hospitals can throw upon 
 him. 
 
 CUnm. I'll not do't, that's flat. 
 
 Brett. And wherefore is Wyatt up / 
 
 Clown, liecause he cannot keep his bed. 
 
 Brett. No, Wyatt is up to keep the Spaniards 
 down, to keep King Philip out, whose coming in 
 will give the land such a fillip, 'twill make it reel 
 again. 
 
 Clown. 'A would it were come to that, we would ; 
 wo would leave off fillii)8 and fall to hot-cockles. 
 
 Brett. Philip is a Spaniard; and what is a 
 Spaniard ) 
 
 Clown. A Spaniard is no Englishman, that I know. 
 
 Brett. Right, a Spaniai-d is a Camocho, a Cali- 
 manco; nay, which is worse, a Dondego, — and 
 what is a Dondego 1 
 
 Clown. A Dondego is a kind of Spanish stock- 
 fish or poor-John. 
 
 Brett. No, a Dondego is a desperate Viliago, 
 a very Castilian ; God bless us. There came but 
 one Doudego* into England, and ho made all 
 PauI's Htiuk again : what siiall a whole army of 
 Dondogoes do, my sweet countrymen ? 
 
 Clown. Marry, thoy will make us all smell 
 abominably : he comes not here, that's flat. 
 
 Brett. A Spaniard is called so because he's a 
 Span-yard, his yard is but a span. 
 
 Clown. Tliat's the reason our Englishwomen 
 loTO thorn not. 
 
 Brett. Uight, fur ho carries not the Englishman's 
 yard about hiiu. If yuu dual with him, luok for 
 bard mcanure : if you give an inch, hu'll Uku an 
 •II ; if yout give an ell, he'll Uiko an inch : there- 
 fura, uiy fiuo, spruce, dappvr, finical fullows, if you 
 ar« now, oa you havo always been counted, politic 
 Lfju<luiiort to fly to the stronger nide, luavu 
 Arundel, leave Norfolk, and love lirott 
 
 ('!.,<! n. Wi-'ll fling our flat tmpM at thoin. 
 
 •11.. 
 J' 
 
 If 
 
 m 
 ) 
 
 I i r 1I..II lUoKO— BoUeywuud; 
 
 '. uciw yoM Don Ditgoa, 
 
 (, |, M 
 I. wltlob 
 
 Brett. Wear your own neat's-leather shoes; 
 scorn Spanish leather; cry, "A fig for the 
 Spaniard ! " Said I well, bullies ? 
 
 Omnet. Ay, ay, ay. 
 
 Brett. Why, then, fiat, fiat ! 
 And every man die at his foot that cries not " A 
 Wyatt, a Wyatt ! " 
 
 Omnes. A Wyatt, a Wyatt, a Wyatt ! 
 
 Enter Wyatt. 
 Wi/att. (Sweet music, gallant fellow-Londoners ! 
 Clown. 1 'faith, we are the madcaps, we aie the 
 lickpennies. 
 
 Wyatt. You shall be all Lord Mayors at least 
 [Exeunt Wyatt, Brett, Clown, aiul Soldiers. 
 
 Alarum sounds, and enter Wyatt, Brbtt, Rodoton, Isley, 
 
 Clown, and Soldiers, aijitin.' 
 
 Wyatt. Those eight bi"as3 pieces shall do service 
 
 now 
 Against their masters, Norfolk and Arundel : 
 They may thank their heels 
 More than their Iiands for saving of their live.s. 
 When soldiei*3 turn surve\'ors, and measure lauds, 
 God help poor fai-mcrs. Soldiers and friends, let 
 
 us all 
 Play nimble bloodhounds and hunt them st^:' 
 
 by step. 
 We heai' 
 
 The lawyers plead in armour 'stead of gowns : 
 If they fall out about the case they jar. 
 Then they may cuff each other from the bar.- 
 Soft! this is Ludgate: stand aloof; I'll knock. 
 
 Jle htocls : enter Pembroke upon the tcalls. 
 
 Pcm. Who knocks ? 
 
 Wyatt. A Wyatt, a true friend. 
 Open your gates, you lowering citizens ; 
 I bring you freedom from a foreign prince : 
 The i^ueen hua hoard your suit, and 'tis In r 
 
 pleasure 
 Tiio city-gates stand open to receive us. 
 
 Pen. Avaunt, thou traitor ! thiuk'st thou 1 
 forgery 
 To enter London with rebellious arms ? 
 Know that theso gates are Ixur'd agiuust t! 
 
 entrance; 
 And it slmli cost the lives 
 Of twenty thousiind true subjects to the quocu 
 Before u tniitur enters. 
 
 Omnet. Shoot hint through. 
 
 Wyatt. Stay, let's know him finit. 
 
 iHown. Kill iiini ; then let's know him ufi' 
 wards. 
 
 and titUr 
 
 . (vaiiij tjoono. lAiudon, — Luilg.. 
 
THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS WYATT. 
 
 199 
 
 Pern. Look on my face, and blushing see with 
 shame 
 Thy treasons character'd. 
 Brett. 'Tis the Lord Pembroke. 
 Wyatt. What have we to do with the Lord 
 Pembroke ] 
 Where's the queen's lieutenant ? 
 
 Pem. I am lieutenant of the city now. 
 Wyatt. Are you Lord Mayor 1 
 Pem. The greatest lord that breathes enters 
 not here 
 Without express command from my dear queen. 
 Wyatt. She commands by us. 
 Pem. I do command thee, in her highness' 
 name. 
 To leave the city-gates, or, by my honour, 
 A piece of ordnance shall be straight discharg'd 
 To be thy death's-man and shoot thee to thy 
 grave. 
 Wyatt. Then here's no entrance ? 
 Pem. No, none. \_Exit. 
 
 Brett. What should we do following Wyatt any 
 longer ] 
 
 Wyatt. London, London, thou perfidious 
 town ! 
 Why hast thou broke thy promise to thy friend, 
 That for thy sake, and for the * general sake, 
 Hath thrust myself into the mouth of danger 1 — 
 March back to Fleet-street. — If that Wyatt die, 
 London, unjustly, buy|- thy treachery! 
 
 Brett. Would I could steal away from Wyatt ! 
 it should be the first thing that I would do. 
 
 [Here they all steal awa'j from Wyatt, a7id leave 
 Mm alone. 
 
 Wyatt. Where's all my soldiers ? what, all gone, 
 And left my drum and colours without guard ! 
 infelicity of careful men ! 
 Yet will I sell my honour'd blood as dear 
 As e'er did faithful subject to his prince. \_Exit. 
 0<_ V\ Enter Nokfolk aMcZ Isley.} 
 
 Isley. Pembroke revolts and flies to Wyatt's 
 
 side. 
 Norf. He's damn'd in hell that speaks it. 
 
 Eater Hakper. 
 Harper. I my good lord, 'tis spread 
 That Pembroke and Count Arundel both are 
 fled! 
 
 Enter Pembroke and Arunbel. 
 Pem. 'Sfoot, who said so'? what devil dares 
 stir my patience ] 
 
 * the'] The old copies "thy." 
 
 t hv.y'] i.e. pay dearly for. (Qy. " 'by," i.e. aby?) 
 
 I Enter Norfolk and hley] Scene. A street in London. 
 
 § Harper] The old copies " Isl." 
 
 Zounds, I was talking with a crew of vagabonds 
 That lagg'd at Wyatt's tail ; and am I thus 
 Paid for my pains ] 
 
 Norf. And there being miss'd. 
 Some villain, finding you out of sight, hath rais'd 
 This slander on you : but, come, my lord. 
 
 Pem. I'll not fight. 
 
 Norf. Nay, sweet earl, — 
 
 Pem. Zounds, fight, and hear my name dis- 
 honom-ed ! 
 
 Arun. Wyatt is march'd down Fleet-street : 
 after him ! 
 
 Pem. Why do not you, and you, pursue him 1 
 
 No7f. If I strike one blow, may my haa5"fall 
 off! 
 
 Pem. And if I do, by this 
 
 Norf. Come, leave yoiir swearing : did not 
 country's care 
 Urge me to this quarrel, for my part, 
 I would not strike a blow. 
 
 Pem. No more would I : 
 I'll eat no wrongs : let's all die, and I'll die. 
 
 Enter Messenger. 
 Mess. Stand on your guai'd, 
 For this way Wyatt is pursu'd amain. 
 
 A great noise witliin. Enter Wyatt, wit7i his sword drawn, 
 being wounded. 
 
 [Within.'] Follow, follow ! 
 
 Norf. Stand, traitor, stand, or thou shalt ne'er 
 stand moi'e. 
 
 Wyatt. Lords, I yield : 
 An easy conquest 'tis to win the field 
 After all's lost. I am wounded : let me have 
 A surgeon, that I may go sound unto my grave. 
 'Tis not the name of traitor 
 'Pals me, nor plucks my weapon from my hand : 
 Use me how you can. 
 Though you say traitor, I am a gentleman. 
 Your dreadful shaking me, which I defy. 
 Is a poor loss of life ; I wish to die : 
 Death frights my spirit no more than can my bed. 
 Nor will I change one hair, losing this head. 
 
 Pem. Come, guard him, guard him. 
 
 Wyatt. No matter where : 
 I hope for nothing, therefore nothing fear. 
 
 [Exeimt. 
 
 Enter WrxcHESTEE, Norfolk, Arukbel, Pembroke, icith 
 other lords.* 
 
 Win. My Lord of Norfolk, will it please you sit? 
 By you, the noble Lord of ArundeL 
 Since it hath pleas'd her sacred majesty 
 
 * Enter Winchester, &.C.] Scene. A room in the Tower. 
 
200 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS WYATT. 
 
 To nominate us here commissioners, 
 Let us, without all partiality, 
 Be opeu-car'd to what they can allege.— 
 NMicre's the Lieutenant of the Tower ? 
 
 Enttr Lieutennut. 
 LietU. Here, my good lord. 
 Win. Fetch forth the prisoners. [Exit Lieut. 
 Enter Guildfoiu) and Jane, trith Lieutenant 
 rkce them severally in chairs of state. — 
 Clerk of the crown, proceed as law requires. 
 
 Cltrk. Guildford Dudley, hold up thy hand at 
 the bar. 
 
 Guild. Hero at the bar of death I hold it up ; 
 And would to God, this hand, heav'd to the law. 
 Might have advanc'd itself in better place. 
 For England's good and for my sovereign's weal ! 
 ClerJc. Jane Gray, Lady Jane Gray, hold up 
 thy hand at the bar. 
 
 Jane. A hand as pure from treasonous offence* 
 As the white livery 
 Worn by the angels in their Maker's sight ! 
 
 Clerk. You ai-e here indicted by the names of 
 Guildford Dudley, Lord Dudley, Jane Gray, Lady 
 Jane Gray, of capital and high treason against our 
 most sovereign lady the queen's majesty. That 
 is to say, that you, Guildford Dudley, and Lady 
 Jane Gray, have, by all possible means, sought 
 to procure unto yourselves the royalty of the 
 crown of England, to the disinheriting of oiu: now 
 sovereign lady the queen's majesty, the true and 
 lawful issue to that famous king Hcmy the 
 Eighth ; and have manifestly adorned your- 
 selves with the state's garland imperiiU, and have 
 granted warrants, commissions, and such-like, 
 for levying of men and soldiers to be sent against 
 the said majesty : what answer you to this 
 indictment, — guilty, or not guilty? 
 
 Guild. Uur answer shall be several like our- 
 selves : 
 Yot, noble earl, wo confess the indictment 
 May wo nut make some apology unto the court ? 
 
 Norf. It is against the order of the law ; 
 Tljeroforc directly plead unto tljo indictment. 
 And then you hIuiU bo heard. 
 
 Guild, AgaiiiMt the law ! 
 W'ord« ult«r'd, tlion, its good unnpokcn were ; 
 For, wliutHou'or you niiy, you know your form, 
 And you will follow it unto our doaths. 
 
 ^orf. Hpi'uk, uro you guilty of thene crimes or 
 
 no? 
 Jane. I'll aniwor fimt ; I nni, and I am not: 
 Uul aliould wo atAiid unto tho lut unguilty, 
 
 ^rnM] Tbauldcu|ilw "IVooaiiiM huinoonco " 
 
 You have large-conscience jurors to besmear 
 The fuii-est brow with style of treachery. 
 Norf. The barons of the land shall be your 
 
 jury. 
 Jane. An honourable and worthy trial ; 
 And God forbid so many noblemen 
 Should be made guilty of our timeless deaths ! 
 Arun. You'll answer to the indictment, will 
 you not ? 
 
 Guild. My lord, I will : I am 
 
 Norf. \Vhat 1 are you guilty or no ? 
 Guild. I say unguilty still ; yet I am guilty. 
 Jane. Slander not thyself : 
 If there be any guilty, it was I ; 
 I was proclaim'd queen, I tho crown should wear. 
 Guild. Because I was thy husband, I stand here. 
 Jane. Our loves we sought ourselves, but not 
 our pride : 
 And shall our fathers' faults our lives divide ? * 
 Guild. It was my father that made thee distrest 
 Jane. 0, but for mine, my Guildford had been 
 
 blest. 
 Guild. My Jane bad been as fortunate as fair. 
 Jane. I\Iy Guildford free from this soul-giicving 
 
 care. 
 Guild. If we be guilty, 'tis no fault of ours ; 
 And shall we die for what's not in our powers ? 
 We sought no kingdom, we desir'd no crown : 
 It was impos'd upon us by consti-aint. 
 Like golden fruit hung on a barren tree ; 
 And will you count such forcoment treachery ? 
 Then make the silver Thames as black as Styx, 
 Because it was constrain'd to beai" the barkst 
 Whose battering ordnance should have been em- 
 
 ploy'd 
 Against tho hmdercrs of our royalty. 
 Win. You talk of senseless things. 
 Guild. Do trees want sense, 
 That by the power of music have been drawn 
 To dance a pleasing measure ? 
 We'll come, then, nearer unto living things: 
 Say wo usurp'd tho English royiilty, 
 Was't not by j-our consents ? 
 I toll you, lords, I have your hands to show, 
 Subscrib'd to the commission of my father, 
 By which you did authorize him to wage arms. 
 If thoy wore rcbollious against your sovereign. 
 Who cried so loud as you, " God save Queen 
 
 Jane" ? 
 And come you now your sovereign to ai'raign ? 
 Come down, come down hero, at a prisoner's bar: 
 
 • ilMdi] Tho quarto of 101 2 "tfcrW*." 
 t 6<ir|jiJ Tho old ooiiios " banJxi." 
 
THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS WYATT. 
 
 201 
 
 Better do so than judge yourselves amiss; 
 For look, what sentence on our heads you lay, 
 Upon your own may light another day. 
 Win. The queen hath pardon'd them. 
 Guild. And we must die 
 For a less fault,- — partiality ! 
 
 Jane. Patience, my Guildford; it was ever 
 known. 
 They that sinn'd least, the punishment have 
 borne. 
 Guild. True, my fair queen: oft sorrow truly 
 speaks.* 
 Great men, like great flies,+ through law's cob- 
 webs break. 
 But the thinn'st frame the prison of the weak. 
 Norf. Now trust me, Arundel, it doth grieve me 
 much 
 To sit in judgment of these harmless [souls]. 
 Arun. I help'd to attach the father ; but the 
 son — 
 0, through my blood I feel compassion run ! 
 My lords, we'll be humble suitors to the queen 
 To save these innocent creatures from their deaths. 
 JVorf. Let's break up court: if Norfolk long 
 should stay. 
 In tears and passion I should melt away. 
 
 Win. Sit still : 
 What, will you take compassion upon such 1 
 They are heretics. 
 Ja7ie. We are Christians : leave our conscience 
 to ourselves ; 
 We stand not here about religious causes. 
 But are accus'd of capital treason. 
 
 Win, Then you confess the indictment ? 
 Guild. Even what you will : 
 Yet save my Jane, although my blood you spill. 
 Jane. If I must die, save princely Guildford's life. 
 Norf. Who is not mov'd to see this loving strife ? 
 Arun. Pray, pardon me : do what you will to- 
 day, 
 
 * oft sorrow truly sjpeaks] The old copies "of sorrowe 
 truely speake. " 
 
 t Great men, like great flies, &o.] It may be urged that 
 Dekker wrote this, as the following passage occui'S in one 
 of his plays : — 
 
 " Jovhielli. You miist hang up the lawes. 
 Octavio. Like cob-webbe in fowle roomes, thi'ough 
 
 which great flies 
 Breake through, the lesse being caught b'ith wing 
 there dies." 
 If this be not a good play the devil is in it, 1612, Sig. D 3. 
 But the simile is derived from ancient wisdom : — "One 
 of the Seven was wont to say, that laws were like cob- 
 webs ; where the small flies were caught, and the great 
 brake through." Bacon's Apophthegms, No. 284. 
 See, too, what Delio says in Tlie Duchess of Malfi ; 
 "Then the law to him," &c. p. CI. 
 
 And I'll approve it, though it be my death. 
 
 Wiit. Then hear the speedy sentence of your 
 deaths : 
 You shall be carried to the place from whence you 
 
 came, 
 From thence unto the place of execution. 
 Through London to be drawn on hurdles, 
 Where thou, Jane Gray, shalt suffer death by fire, 
 Thou, Guildford Dudley, hang'd and quartered : 
 So, Lord have mercy upon you ! 
 
 Guild. Why, this is well, 
 Since we must die, that we must die together. 
 
 Win. Stay, and hear the mercy of the queen : 
 Because you are of noble parentage, 
 Although the crime of your offence be great, 
 She is only pleas'd that you shall 
 
 Both. Will she pardon us ? 
 
 Win. Only, I say, that you shall lose your heads 
 Upon the Towei--hill. — So, convey them hence : 
 Lieutenant, strictly look unto your charge. 
 
 Guild. Our dooms are known, our lives have 
 play'd their part. — 
 Farewell, my Jane ! 
 
 Jane. My Dudley, mine own heart I 
 
 Guild. Fain would I take a ceremonious leave ; 
 But that's to die a hundred thousand deaths. 
 
 Jane. I cannot speak, for tears. 
 
 Lieut. My lord, come. 
 
 Guild. Least griefs speak loudei', when the great 
 are dumb.* [Exeunt. 
 
 Enter 'Wyatt, in the Tower, 
 
 Wyatt. The sad aspect this prison doth afford 
 
 Jumps f with the measm-e that my heaii doth 
 
 keep ; 
 And this enclosure here, of naught but stone. 
 Yields far more comfort tlian the stony hearts 
 Of them that wrong'd their country and their 
 
 friend : 
 Here are no perjur'd councillors + to swear 
 A sacred oath, and then forswear the same ; 
 No innovators here do harbour keep : 
 A stedfast silence doth possess the place : 
 In this the Tower is noble, being base. 
 
 Enter Norfolk, Winchester, Arundel, and Officers, to 
 
 Wyatt. 
 
 Norf. Sir Thomas Wyatt,— 
 Wyatt. That's my name, indeed. 
 
 * Least griefs speak louder, when the great are dumh] The 
 old copies have, 
 
 " Great gi-iefes speake louder 
 When the least are dumb'd." 
 But compare The White Devil, p. 15, and note *. 
 f Jumpts'] 1. e. ag^'ees. 
 { couiKillors'l i. e. members of the counciL 
 
202 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS WYATT. 
 
 Win. You should say traitor. 
 
 Wyalt. Traitor, aud Wyatt's name, 
 i Differ as far as Winchester and honour. 
 
 Win. I am a pillar of the mother church. 
 
 Wyalt. And what am I ? 
 
 Win. One that subverts the state. 
 
 Wyatt. Insult not too much o'er th' unfortu- 
 nate ; 
 I have no bishop's rochet to declare 
 My iunocency. This is my cross, 
 That causeless I must sufler my head's loss : 
 When that hour comes wh(;reln my blood is spilt, 
 My cross will look as bright as yours twice-gilt. 
 
 Norf. Here's for that purpose. 
 
 Wyatl. Is your grace so short ! 
 Belike you come to make my death a sport. 
 
 Win. We come to bring you to your execution ; 
 You must be haug'd and quarter'd instantly : 
 At the Park-corner is a gallows set ; 
 Wiiilher make haste to tender nature's debt 
 
 Wyait. Then here's the end of Wyatt's rising 
 up: * 
 I to keep Spaniards from the land was sworn ; 
 Right willingly I yield myself to death ; 
 But sorry such should have my place of birth. 
 Ha«l London kept his word, Wyatt had stood ; 
 But now King I'hilip enters through my blood. 
 [h'jceuiU Officers with W'vatt. 
 
 Win. Where's the Lieutenant of the Tower .' 
 
 Snter Lioutoimut. 
 Lieut. Hero, my lord. 
 Win. Vt;lch forth your other prisoners. 
 Lieut. My lord, I will ; 
 Hero lies young Guildford, here the Lady Jane. 
 Nor/. Conduct them forlii. [A'.riV Lieut. 
 
 Eiittr Oi iiiiKOKD and jASr, icith Liouton:iiit. 
 (Juild. Good ujorrow once more to my lovely 
 
 Jnno. 
 Jatu. The last good-morrow, my sweet love, to 
 
 thoc. 
 (iuild. What were you reading ? 
 Jane. On R prayor-book. 
 
 UvkHd. Trust mo, so was I : wo had need to pnvy, 
 Fur, aoe, tlio miniHtern of death draw near. 
 
 Jatu. To K propaiiNd mind death is a ]>leaMuru : 
 I loiiK ill loul till I have Hpont my broatli. 
 
 (iuild. My lord liigh chancellor, you arc wclcomo 
 hithor : 
 Wliat, eoino you to bohoUt our execution I — 
 And, uiy Lord Arundel, tiiriio welcome : you 
 btlp'd 
 
 • ITpaltt rUng «|>J Tlio .|Ui»rU) of lOia " MyiU* vjt." 
 
 To attach our father ; come you now to see 
 The black conclusion of our tragedy ? 
 
 Win. We come to do oui" office. 
 
 Guild. So do we ; 
 Our office is to die, yours to look on : 
 We are beholding unto such beholders. 
 The time was, lords, when you did flock amain 
 To sec her crown'd ; but now to kill my Jane. 
 The world like to a sickle bends itself: 
 Men run their course of lives as in a maze : 
 Our office is to die, yours but to gaze. 
 
 Jane. Patience, my Guildford. 
 
 Guild. Patience, my lovely Jane ! 
 Patience has blanch'd thy soul as white as snow ; 
 But who shall answer for thy death] This 
 
 know, 
 An innocent to die, what is it less 
 But to add angels to heaven's happiness 1 
 The guilty dying do applaud the law; 
 But when the innocent creature stoops his neck 
 To an unjust doom, upon the judge they check. 
 Lives are, like souls, requir'd of their neglectors; 
 Then ours of you that should be our protectors. 
 
 Win. Il;iil not against the law. 
 
 Guild. No, God forbid ! 
 My Lord of Winchester is * made of law. 
 And should I i-ail against it, 'twere 'gainst you. 
 If I forget not, you rejoic'd to see 
 The fall of Cromwell : joy you now at me ? 
 Oft dying men are fill'd with prophecies ; 
 But I'll not be a prophet of your ill. — 
 Yet know, my lords, they that behold us now 
 May to the axe of justice one day bow, 
 And in that plot of ground, where we must die. 
 Sprinkle their bloods, though I know no cause 
 why. 
 
 Norf. Speak you to mo. Lord Guildford? 
 
 Guild. Norfolk, no : 
 I speak to 
 
 Not-f. To whom 1 
 
 Guild. Alas, I do not know. 
 
 Which of tis two dies firetl 
 
 Win. The bettor part. 
 
 Guild. O, ratlier kill the worst! 
 
 Jane. 'Tis I, sweet love, that first must kiss the 
 block. 
 
 Guild. I am a man ; men better brook the 
 shock 
 Of threatening death : your sox are ever weak ; 
 The thouglits of death a woman's heart will break. 
 
 Jane. But I am nrm'd to die. 
 
 (luilil. Likelier to live; 
 
 it] Tho uld copiuii " It'll." 
 
THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOJ^IAS WTATT. 
 
 203 
 
 Death to the un^villing doth his presence give : 
 He dares not look the bold man in the face, 
 But on the fearful lays his killing mace. 
 
 Win. It is the pleasure of the queen 
 That the Lady Jane must first suffer death. 
 
 Jane. I thank her highness, 
 That I shall first depart this hapless world, 
 And not survive to see my dear love dead. 
 
 Guild. She dying first, I thi-ee times lose my 
 head. 
 
 Enter the Headsman and Ladies. 
 
 Heads. Forgive me, lady, I pray, your death. 
 
 Guild. Ha ! hast thou the heart to kill a face 
 so fair ? 
 
 Win. It is her headsman. 
 
 Guild. And demands a pardon 
 Only of her for taking off her head ? 
 
 Jane. Ay, gentle Guildford, and I pardon him. 
 
 Guild. But I'll not pardon him : thou art my 
 wife. 
 And he shall ask me pardon for thy life. 
 
 Heads. Pardon me, my lord. 
 
 Guild. Rise, do not kneel ; 
 Though thou submitt'st, thou hast a lowering steel, 
 Whose fatal declination bi'ings our death : 
 Good man of earth, make haste to make us earth. 
 
 Heads. Pleaseth the Lady Jane, I'll help her off 
 With her night-gown. 
 
 Jane. Thanks, gentle friend ; but I 
 Have other waiting-women to attend me. — 
 Good Mistress Ellen,* lend me a helping hand 
 To strip me of these + worldly ornaments : 
 Off with these robes, 0, tear them from my side ! 
 Such silken covers are the gilt of pi'ide. 
 Instead of gowns, my coverture be earth, 
 My worldly death a new celestial birth ! % — • 
 What, is it off 1 
 
 First Lady. Madam, almost. 
 
 Jane. Xot yet ! God, 
 How hardly can we shake off this world's pomp, 
 That cleaves unto us Uke om- body's skin ! 
 Yet thus, God, shake off thy servant's sin ! 
 
 First Lady. Here is a scarf to bhnd your eyes. 
 
 Jane. From all the world but from my Guild- 
 ford's sight : 
 Before I fasten this beneath my brow, 
 
 * Good Mistress Ellen, &c.] "Then kneeling downe, she 
 said the psalme of Miserere mei Deus, in English, and 
 then stood vji and gaue hir maid {called mutrtsse Ellin) 
 her gloues and handkercher," &c. Holinshed's Chron. 
 vol. iv. 22, ed. 1808. 
 
 t these] The old copies " this." 
 
 X a new celestial birth] The old copies "or new Celestiall 
 breath." 
 
 Let me behold him with a constant look. 
 
 Guild. 0, do not kill me with that piteous eye ! 
 
 Jane. 'Tis my last farewell, take it patiently : 
 My dearest Guildford, let us kiss and part. — 
 Now blind mine eyes never to see the sky : 
 Blindfold thus lead me to the block to die. 
 
 [Exit with Headsman and Ladies. 
 
 Guild. ! [Falls in a trance. 
 
 Norf. How fares my lord ] 
 
 Arun. He's fall'n into a trance. 
 
 Norf. Wake him not until he wake himself. — 
 happy Guildford, if thou die ia this. 
 Thy soul will be the first in heavenly bliss ! 
 
 Win. Here comes the headsman with the head 
 of Jane. 
 Re-enter Headsman, with Jaxe's h^ad. 
 
 Guild. Who spake of Jane ? who nam'd my 
 lovely Jane ? 
 
 Win. Behold her head. 
 
 Guild, 0, 1 shall faint again ! 
 Yet let me bear this sight unto my grave. 
 My sweet Jane's head : — 
 Look, Norfolk, Arundel, Winchester, 
 Do malefactors look thus when they die, — 
 A ruddy lip, a clear reflecting eye, 
 Cheeks purer than the maiden orient pearl. 
 That sprinkle* bashf ulness through the clouds 1 
 Her innocence has given her this look : 
 The like for me to show so well, being dead, 
 How wilhngly would Guildford lose his head ! 
 Win. My lord, the time nms on. 
 
 Guild. So does our death : 
 Here's one has run so fast, she's out of breath. 
 But the time goes on, and my fair Jane's white 
 
 soul 
 Will be in heaven before me, if I do stay. 
 Stay, gentle wife, thy Guildford follows thee : 
 Though on the earth we part by advei-se fate, 
 Oui- souls shall knock together at heaven's gate. 
 The sky is calm, our deaths have a fair day. 
 And we shall pass the smoother on our way. 
 My lords, farewell, ay, once farewell to all : 
 The fathers' pride has caus'd the children's fall. 
 [Exit Guildford to death. \ 
 
 * TItat sprinkle, &c.] CoiTupted, of course. (The old 
 copies have " That spiinckles," &c.) 
 
 t Dudley, as every reader of history knows, was put to 
 death before his wife. 
 
 "Warner, in describing the end of this imhappy pair, 
 adheres more closely to fact : — 
 
 " Come was the day, the tragicke day, wherein they both 
 should die ; 
 
 When either, passing to their end, ech other did espie, 
 
 Shee in her lodging waiting death, prepared her that 
 day. 
 
 And he in beiug lead thereto, her lodging in his way. 
 
204 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS WYATT. 
 
 Norf. Thus have wo seen her bighncaa' will 
 perforni'd : 
 And now their heads and bodies shall bo joiii'd 
 And bui'ied la one grave, as fits their loves. 
 
 Asscuding aud dissondiug: eigncs thcu fly and fall 
 
 n|iaco, 
 And each bctnoncs the other more than mindes their 
 
 jirivaUj cacc. 
 Their cics, that luolcod louo cro while, now looko their 
 
 last adcw. 
 And staino their (aces, iaultles ere this dismall enter- 
 
 vew ; 
 Their cares, earst listnin;; loies, ore deafo, unlessc to 
 
 8i(;hcs profound ; 
 Their U'Dgs, earst talking ioies, those looks and sighcs 
 
 did now confound : 
 What part soere of them had felt or tasted ioycs ere 
 
 this, 
 Woare scncclcs now of any ioy, saue lioj)© of heauenly 
 
 blls. 
 
 Thus much 111 say in their behalfs now dead, 
 Their fathers' pride their lives hath sevei-fed. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Whilst either thus for cai-thly pompe no longer time 
 
 did luoke. 
 Ho. passcth to the fatall blocke, she praying on her 
 
 booko : 
 VThence (liauing made a godly end) ho was retum'd, 
 
 whilst sheo 
 Prepard for like, and of her lord the sencclcs tronke 
 
 did sec ; 
 A sight more deathful than her death that should 
 
 cOsort him straitc. 
 And for the which her feareles eics did euery moment 
 
 waite. 
 She vnabashed, mounting now the skaffold, thearo 
 
 attends 
 The fatiiU stroke, aud vnto God her better parte com- 
 mends. 
 And as she liu'd a vertuous life, so vertuously she ends " 
 Albion's Eiiglind, \>. 190, ed. 1012. 
 
WESTWAKD HO, 
 
Weitvard Hoe. Am it haih Uene lUuert tima Acted by the Children, of Paules. Written by Tho: Peckfr, and John 
 »'<Mer. I'rintnl at Lontlon, and to be told by John Hodgeti dwelling in PaxUes Churchyard. 1607. 4to. 
 
 I have met with one copy of thin comedy, which differs slightly in some passages from the copy I jiosscss. Soo 
 the prcf;itorj' matter to Tlit White Devil, p. 2. 
 
 Tlio title of Wtttirnrd Ho, tliat of tho jilay which comes next in the present collection, Sorlhicnrd Ho, as well as 
 that of tho comedy l>y Chapman, Jonson, and Marston, Eastward Ho, appear to have been derived from tho 
 oxcliuuatiuim of tho watermen who plied on tho Thames : 
 
 " [Mcike a noi-ge, Westicard Bo .' 
 Qiufn Elinor. Woman, what noise is this I hear? 
 I'Mer't Wij'e. An like your grace, it it the tccitennen that call for passengers to go wetlward now." 
 
 Peolo's Edward \st.— Works, voL i. p. 182. soc. cd. 
 
 Compare ; 
 
 " There lies your way, due west. 
 
 . Th&a icidward, ho ! " 
 
 Shakespeare's Twelfth-Night, act iii. sc. i. 
 
 " .V Ktranger? the bettor welcome : comes hoc Eastward, Westward, or Northward hoe f " 
 
 Day's hk ofOulU, 1606, Sig. A J. 
 
 " Yoa? and will you to the southwanl y faith? will you to tho confines of Itily, my palhuits? Take lieoil how 
 yo« Roo Northwards ; 'tis a dangerous coast, jest not with 't in winter ; therefore goe Southwards, my giUhiuts, 
 Suuthtenrds hot .' " ShiU-pluun's Fleire, 1615, Sig. D 4. 
 
 Eastward Ho was printed in 1605 : tho Prologue to it shows that Westward Ho was then on tho stage; 
 " Sot out of euv}', for ther's no effect 
 Where there's no cau.so, nor out of imitation. 
 For we hauo ouormore been imitated ; 
 Nor out of our contention to doo better 
 Tlion that which is op|>osdo to ouit* in title; 
 For that w.xn kooiI, luul bettor cannot be : 
 And for tho title, if it mociiio iiffocted. 
 Wo might as well luivo vtMo it, Ootl you good even : 
 « (Illy thitt oa«twanl, woMtwurtls still excoedos, 
 }Joiiour tlio runne.i faii'u rii>hig, not liis suiting," ibc. 
 
DEAMATIS PERSONiE. 
 
 Eabl. 
 
 justiniano. 
 
 honeyscckle. 
 
 Tenterhook. 
 
 Wafek. 
 
 Monopoly. 
 
 Sm Gosling Glowworm. 
 
 Linstock. 
 
 Whirlpool. 
 
 Ambush. 
 
 Clutch. 
 
 Scrivener. 
 
 Cashier. 
 
 Tailor. 
 
 Boniface. 
 
 Prentice. 
 
 Chamberlain. 
 
 Boy, Servants, Fiddlers. 
 
 i Mistress Justiniano. 
 
 .! -.' *;■* ■' ^ Mistress Honeysuckle.* 
 /Uo' . Mistress Tenterhook.* 
 
 Uraj/ji: Mistress Wafer.* 
 Mistress Berdlime. 
 Lucy. 
 Christl\n. 
 
 * Mistress Honeysuckle. ■» In the old copy (which has no list of dramatis personae) the Chiistian names of these 
 
 Mistress Tenterhook. V ladies are generally prefixed to their respective speeches, — Judith to Mistress Honey- 
 
 Mistress Wafer. ) suckle's; Moll, or Clare, to Mistress Tenterhook's; and Mabel to Mistress Wafer's. 
 
 When our poets make Mistress Tenterhook be addi-essed "sweet Clare," in the latter part of the play, they must 
 
 have forgotten that she had been termed "little Moll" in an earlier scene. The name of Mistress Justiniano is 
 
 Moll. 
 
WESTWARD HO. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE I.* 
 lEnter Mistress Birdlime and Tailor. 
 Bird. Stay, tailor, this is tlie house : pray thee, 
 look the gown be not ruffled ; as for the jewels 
 and precious stones, I know where to find them 
 ready presently. She that must wear this gown, 
 if she will receive it, is Master Justiniano's wife, 
 the Italian merchant : my good old lord and 
 master, that hath been a tilter this twenty year, 
 hath sent it. Mum, tailor; you are a kind of 
 bawd. Tailor, if this gentlewoman's husband 
 should chance to be in the way now, you shall 
 tell him that I keep a hot-house tin Gunpowder- 
 alley, near Crutched-Friars, and that I have 
 brought home his wife's foul linen ; and, to colour 
 my knavery the better, I have here three or four 
 kinds of complexion, which I will make show of 
 to sell unto her : the young gentlewoman hath a 
 good city wit, I can tell you ; she hath read in 
 Tlie Italian Courtier Xi\ia,i it is a special ornament 
 to gentlewomen to have skill in painting. 
 
 Tailor. Is my lord acquainted with her 1 
 
 Bird. 0, ay. 
 
 Tailor. Faith, Mistress Birdlime, I do not 
 commend my lord's choice so well : now, methinks 
 he were better to set up a dairy, and to keep 
 
 * Seme /.] London. A street : before the house of 
 Justiniano. 
 
 t I keep a hot-house, &c.] A hot-house meant properly a 
 bagnio ; but it also meant a brothel ; for brothels were 
 often kept under the pretence of their being hot-houses. 
 — " He, sir ! a tapster, sir ; parcel-bawd ; one that serves 
 a bad woman ; whose house, sir, was, as they say, 
 plucked down in the subm-bs ; and now she professes 'a 
 hot-house, which, I think, is a very ill house too." 
 Shakespeare's Measure for Measure, act ii. so. i. 
 
 t The Italian Courtier] Thomas Hoby's translation of 
 Castiglione's famous Courtier appeared in 4to. in 1561. 
 
 half a score of lusty, wholesome, honest, country 
 
 wenches. 
 
 Bird. Honest country wenches ! in what 
 
 hundred shall a man find two of that simple 
 
 virtue ? 
 
 Tailor. Or to love some lady; there were 
 
 equality and coherence. 
 Bird. Tailor, you talk like an ass : I tell thee 
 
 there is equality enough between a lady and a 
 
 city dame, if their hair be but of a colour. Name 
 you any one thing that your citizen's wife comes 
 short of to your lady : they have as pure linen, 
 as choice painting, love green-geese in spring, 
 mallard and teal in the fall, and woodcock in 
 winter. Your citizen's wife learns nothing but 
 fopperies of your lady; but your lady or justice- 
 o'-peace madam carries high wit from the city, — 
 namely, to receive all and pay all, to awe their 
 husbands, to check their husbands, to control 
 their husbands ; nay, they have the trick on't to 
 be sick for a new gown, or a carcanet,* or a 
 diamond, or so; and I wisf this is better wit 
 than to learn how to wear a Scotch farthingale ; 
 nay, more, — Here comes one of the servants : you 
 remember, tailor, that I am deaf; observe that. 
 
 Tailor. Ay, thou art in that like one of our 
 young gulls, that will not understand any wrong 
 is done him, because he dares not answer it. 
 
 JEntcr Prentice. 
 Bird. By your leave, bachelor ; is the gentle- 
 woman, your mistress, stirring ? 
 Prent. Yes, she is moving. 
 Bird. What says he ] 
 Tailor. She is up. 
 
 t wis 
 
 rca.net\ i.e., necklace. 
 
 ';] Some coi^ies of the old ed. "wist." 
 
210 
 
 TNTSTWARD HO. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Bird. Where's the gcntlenum, your master, 
 pray you 1 
 
 Pren. Where many women desire to have their 
 husbandB, — ahroftiL 
 
 Bird. I nni very thick of hearing. 
 
 Prm. Why, abroad :— [oiide] you smell of the 
 bawtl. 
 
 .Bird. I pray you, tell hor hero 's an old gentle- 
 woman would speak with her. 
 
 Pren. So. [ExU. 
 
 Tailor! ^^^lat, will you bo deaf to the gentle- 
 woman when she comes too? 
 
 Bird. O, no; she's acquainted well enough 
 with my knavery. — She comes. 
 
 Rilrr MlRTRIM JufmSIASO. 
 
 IIow do yon, sweet lady ? 
 
 Mitl. Just. Lady ! 
 
 Birtl. By Oo<r8 me, I hopo to call you lady 
 ere you die. What, mistres-s, do you sleep well 
 on nights t 
 
 Mitt. Jiat. Sleep ! ay, as quietly a.s a client 
 having great business with lawyers. 
 
 Bird. Come, I am come to you about the old 
 miit : my good lord and master hath sent you a 
 Telvet gown here : do you like the colour ? three- 
 pile, a pretty fantastical trimmins ! I would God 
 you would say it, by my troth. I dreamed last 
 night you looked so prettily, so sweetly, 
 methought so like the wisest latly of them all, 
 in a velvet gown. 
 
 Mut. Just. Wliat's the forepart? 
 
 Bird. A very pretty stuff: I know not the 
 «»in« of your firi'psrt, but 'tis of a hair-colour. 
 
 Mist. Jtut. That it was my hard fortune, being 
 so well brought up, having so great a portion to 
 my marriage, t<> match so unluckily! Why, my 
 liuibaiid and bin wholo credit is not worth my 
 •pfiwal : w««ll, I nhall undergo a stnuigo report in 
 leaving my husliand. 
 
 Bird. Tush, if you respect your credit, never 
 think of that ; for beauty cov«its ricli appnrol, 
 ebo • tlciit iibynic. No (Jorman dock,* 
 
 nor il engine whatsoever, ro<|uire« so 
 
 I' M '■ r.jprtirtlK.n a« a woman's fiu?<'; and what 
 • ■ ' Vn'li y Mr JiiiNl.mid to allow swoot Doctor 
 lit I have heanl that you 
 Iwn that cost three pounds n 
 •iM.H'k wilt thoM tmocka 0T«r bold out with 
 
 your husband ? no, your linen and your apparel 
 must turn over a new leaf, I can tell you. 
 
 Tailor, [atide] admirable bawd ! excellent 
 Birdlime ! 
 
 Bird. I have heard he loved you, before you 
 were married, entirely : what of that ? I have ever 
 found it mo.st true in mine own experience, that 
 they which are nicst violent dotards before their 
 marriage are most voluntary cuckolds after. 
 Many are honest, either because they have not 
 wit,* or because they have not opportunity, to 
 be dishonest; and this Italian, your husband's 
 countryman, holds it impossible any of their 
 ladies should be excellent witty, and not make 
 the uttermost use of their beauty : will you be a 
 fool, then ? 
 
 Mist. Just. Thou dost persuade me to ill very 
 well. 
 
 Bird. You are nice and peevish :t how long 
 will you hold out, think you? not so long as 
 Ostend.t 
 
 Enter JrsTiNM.KXo. 
 Passion of me, your husband ! Remember that 
 I am deaf, and that I come to sell you complexion : 
 — truly, mistress, I will deal very reasonably with 
 you. 
 
 Just. Wliat are you, say yc ? 
 
 Bird. Ay, forsooth. 
 
 Just. Wliat, my most happy wife ! 
 
 Mist. Just. Why, your jealousy. 
 
 Ju^t. Jealou.'ij- ! in faith, I do not fear to lose 
 That I have lost already. — What.aro you ? 
 
 Bird. Please yovu" good worehip, I am a poor 
 gentlewoman that ca.st away myself upon an 
 unthrifty captain that lives now in Ireland : I am 
 fain to pick out a poor living with selling com- 
 plexion, to keep the frailty, as they say, honest. 
 
 Jast. Wliat's he ?§ — Complexion too! you are 
 a bawd. 
 
 Bird. I thank your goo^ worship for it. 
 
 Just. Do not I know these tricks ? 
 Tlmt which thoti umk'st a colour for thy sin 
 ITath been thy first uiuli)iiig, — jiainting, jwinting. 
 
 Bird. I have of all sortjt, forsootli : here is the 
 
 I H.III10 n.|i|na of tho old «d. 
 ' (ho tHMiiiiieiitaloni on— 
 ' I* '<i« a (hrman ttotk. 
 
 * wif] Some ooplea of the old ed. " miM," other copies 
 ''iMrtiHJ," (Coni|tiiro wlmt fuUown.) 
 
 t m'«Y (iMi/ ^<'ri'iA/i| i.o. Hcni|iiili>iiH niul fiH>liiih. 
 
 J hW «o loiifj .m (hirmi] Aflor ik «li-(to of thiix) years olid 
 
 (on wooka. this jiliu-o miri-uiidoivil ti> tlio Miin|uiH of 
 
 H|itn..lu. nil (lilt twi'lflh of ScptiMiilHir, 1(104. In tlio 
 
 in>il lit IrfMidnn A Trut IUM<-tr'\t r\f thf 
 
 (himil, ami what fmnttl im ritkfr tidt 
 
 1.' i\f the Siq/f until Mn j/rrlilitip up (il" the 
 
 TowHf, *o. 7V<iim/u/a( out qf FrtHch into Snt/tijA. lly 
 /Mmtnl OriiHrttoH, 
 
 ''I If rlKlil, uiMMU tho Tailor : but .jy. " hero " ? 
 
sckn:e I. 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 211 
 
 burned powder of a hog's jaw-bone, to be laid 
 with the oil of white poppy, an excellent fucus to 
 kill morphew, weed out freckles, and a most 
 excellent gi-oundwork for painting; here is 
 ginimony likewise burned and pulverized, to be 
 mingled with the juice of lemons, sublimate 
 mercury, and two spoonfuls of the flowers of 
 brimstone, a most excellent receipt to cm'e the 
 flushing in the face. 
 
 Just. Do you hear, if you have any business to 
 despatch with that deaf goodness there, pray 
 you, take leave — opportunity, that which most of 
 you long for (though you never be with child), 
 opportunity : I'll find some idle busLaess in the 
 mean time ; I will, I will, in truth ; you shall not 
 need fear me : or you may speak French ; most 
 of your kinds can understand French. God 
 b'wi'you ! — 
 
 Being certain thou art false, sleep, sleep, my 
 brain ; 
 
 For doubt was only that which fed my pain. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Mist. Just. You see what a hell I live in : I am 
 resolved to leave him. 
 
 Bird. the most fortunate gentlewoman, that 
 will be so wise, and so, so provident ! the cai'oche 
 shall come. 
 
 Mist. Just. At what hour ? 
 
 Bird. Just when women and vintners are a- 
 conjuring, at midnight. the entertainment 
 my lord will make you, — sweet wines, lusty 
 diet, perfumed linen, soft beds ! most 
 fortunate gentlewoman! 
 
 [Exeunt BntDLniE anO. Tailor. 
 
 Re-enter JvstvsiilSO. 
 
 Just. Have you done? have you despatched? 
 'tis well : and, in troth, what was the motion ? 
 
 Mist. Just. Motion ! what motion ? 
 
 Just. Motion ! why, like the motion in law 
 that stays for a day of hearing, yours for a night 
 of hearing. Come, let 's not have April in your 
 eyes, I pray you : it shows a wanton month 
 follows your weeping. Love a woman for her 
 tears ! Let a man love oysters for their water : 
 for women, though they should weep liquor 
 enough to serve a dyer or a brewei', yet they 
 may be as stale as wenches that travel every 
 second tide between Gravesend and Billingsgate. 
 
 Mist. Just. This madness shows very well. 
 
 -' Just. "Why, look you, I am wondrous merry : 
 
 can any man discern by my face that I am a 
 
 cuckold ? I have known many suspected for 
 
 men of this misforttme, when they have walked 
 
 thorough the streets, wear their hats o'er their 
 eyebrows, like politic penthouses,* which com- 
 monly make the shop of a mercer or a linen- 
 draper as dark as a room in Bedlam ; his cloak 
 shrouding his face, as if he were a Keopolitan 
 that had lost his beard in April ; and if he walk 
 through the street, or any other narrow road 
 (as 'tis rare to meet a cuckold), he ducks at the 
 penthouses, like an ancientt that dares not 
 flourish at the oath-t;iking of the pretor J for 
 fear of the sign-posts. Wife, wife, do I any of 
 these ? Come, what news from his lordship ? has 
 not his lordship's vii-tue once gone against the 
 hair, and coveted comers? 
 
 Mist. Just. Sir, by my soul, I will be plain with 
 you. 
 
 Just. Except the forehead, dear wife, except 
 the forehead. 
 
 Mist. Just. The gentleman you spake of hath 
 often solicited my love, and hath received from 
 me most chaste denials. 
 
 Just. Ay, ay, provoking resistance : 'tis as if 
 you come to buy wares in the city, bid money 
 for't; your mercer or goldsmith says, "Truly, I 
 cannot take it," lets his customer pass his stall, 
 next, nay, perhaps two or three ; but if he find 
 he is not prone to return of himself, he calls him 
 back, and back, and takes his money : so you, 
 my dear wife, — the policy of women and 
 tradesmen ! they'll bite at any thing. 
 
 3fist. Just. "What would you have me dol 
 all your plate, and most part of your jewels, are 
 at pawn ; besides, I hear you have made over all 
 your estate to men in the town here. "What 
 would you have me do ? would you have me turn 
 common sinner, or sell my apparel to my waist- 
 coat, and become a laundress ? 
 
 Just. No laundress, dear wife, though your 
 credit would go far with gentlemen for taking up 
 of linen ; no laundress. 
 
 Mist. Just. Come, come, I will speak as my 
 
 * UH politic penthouse.?, &c.] Our old writers have 
 frequent allusions to the roguery of tradesmen in darken- 
 ing their shops, that customers might be unable to 
 detect the badness of their goods. So Brome ; " WTiat 
 shotild the city do with honesty ? . . . 'WTiy are yoiu- 
 wares gummed, your shops dark;" &c. TJie City Wit, act 
 i. sc. 1. And Sliddleton ; 
 
 "though yoiu- shop-wares you vent 
 With your deceiving lights," &c. 
 
 Any thing for a quiet life, act ii. sc. 2, — Works, 
 iv. Hi, ed. Dyce. 
 t ancient] i.e. flag, standard. (So afterwards, act ii. 
 sc. 1, " I'm as limber as an ancient that has flourished in 
 the rain," <fec.) 
 J thepretOT] i.e. the Lord Mayor. 
 
 p 2 
 
212 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 ACT i. 
 
 mUfortune prompU me. Jealouay hath undone 
 many a citizen; it hath undone you and me. i 
 You married mc from the Hcrvice of an honourable 
 la<ly, and you knew what matches I mought 
 have had. What wo»dd you have nio to do ? I 
 would I had never seen your eyes, your eyes. 
 Jnat. Very good, very good. ! 
 
 Mitt. Jad. Your pro<lignlity, your dicing, your 
 riding abrood, your consorting yourself with 
 noblemen, your building a Bummor-housc, hath 
 undone us, hath undone us. What would you 
 have mo do ) 
 
 Jm*. Any thing. I have sold my house and 
 the wares iu't; I am going for Stode* next tide: 
 what will you do now, wife? 
 Mi*(. Jiut. Have you indeed ? 
 Jnst. Ay, by this light, all's one : I have done 
 u some citizens at thirty, and most heirs at three- 
 andtwenty, made all away. Why do you not ask 
 me now what you shall do 1 
 
 Mitt. Jtut. I have no counsel in your voyage, 
 oeitbcr shall you have any in mine. 
 
 Jiut. To his lordship,— will you not, wifcl 
 Hist. Just. Kvcn whither my misfortune leads 
 me. 
 
 Jiul. Go ; no longer will I make my care thy 
 pri»<in. 
 
 MUt. Jatt. my fate! Well, sir, you shall 
 ansMiT for this sin wliich you furco me to. Faro 
 you well : let not the world condemn mc, if I 
 •oek for minu own maintenance. 
 
 Jujft. Ko, BO. 
 
 A/mT. J*tt. Do not send me any letters ; do not 
 •e«k any roconcilemeDt ; by this light, I'll receive 
 nona : if you will send me my ajiparel, so ; if 
 not, choose. I hope we shall ne'er meet more. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Jwd. So, farewell the ac(|uaintance of all the 
 
 xumiX devils tluit hu\mt jealousy ! Why should a 
 
 man bo such an asit to pluy thu antic fur his wife's 
 
 ap|>flitef Imaginu that I, or luiy other groat 
 
 man, have on a velvet nightcap, and put ctuio 
 
 thai Ihia ni^lit aip be too little for my ears or 
 
 furvhoBil, con any ncui toll me where my night- 
 
 ! eap wring* mti,esc«|it I bo Miith im wm to proctniiu 
 
 111 Well, I du play the fool willi my miHfortune 
 
 I vary haiiilMiinnly. 1 am glad that I am certain 
 
 . of my wtfo'* dinhonoaty ; for a secret «truni|H}t is 
 
 like mlnoa prt<|i«nMl to ruin giiodly buildinga. 
 
 r,l,«rl: l,.v .,., ' I l.^v- I. .1.1 t.(V wC- ! .l-l 
 
 .«l|i|i«N), wo 
 
 of iiio uia 
 
 going for Stode: that's not my course; for I 
 resolve to take some ghape upon me, and to live 
 disguised here in the city. They say, for one 
 cuckold to know that his friend is in the like 
 head-ache, and to give him counsel, is as if thei-e 
 were two partners, the one to be arrested, the 
 other to bail him. My estate is made over to 
 my friends, that do verily believe I mean to leave 
 England. Have amongst you, city dames! you 
 that are indeed the fittest and most proper 
 persons for a comedy : nor let the world lay any 
 Imputation upon my disguise; for court, city, 
 and country, are merely as masks one to the I 
 other, envied of some, laughed at of others : and y 
 so, to my comical business. \^Exit. 
 
 SCENE !!.• 
 
 Enter Tenterhook, Mistress Tenterhook, MoNorMi.v, 
 
 a Scrivener, and a Cashier. 
 
 Ten. Moll,— 
 
 Mist. Ten. What would, heart ? 
 
 Ten. Where's my cashier ! are the sums right ? 
 are the bonds sealed ? 
 
 Cash. Yea, sir. 
 
 Ten. Will you have the bags sealed ? 
 
 Man. 0, no, sir, I must disburee insUmtly ; we 
 that be courtiei-s have more places to send money 
 to than the devil hath to send his spirits. There '3 
 a great deal of light gold. 
 
 Ten, O, sir, 'twill away in play : an you will 
 stay till to-morrow, you shall have it all in new 
 sovereigns. 
 
 Mon. No, in troth, 'tis no matter, 'twill away 
 in play. Lot me see the bond, let mo see when 
 this money is to be paid [looks at the bond] : the 
 tenth of August, the first day that I must tender 
 this money, is the fii-st of dog-days. 
 
 Scnv. I fear 'twill bo hot sUiying for you in 
 London then. 
 
 Ten, Scrivener, take homo tho bond with ymi. 
 
 [Kril Sirivciicr. 
 Will you stay to dinner, sir? — Have you any 
 |>rtrtridge, Moll f 
 
 MitL Ten. No, in troth, heart; but an excellent 
 pickled goose, a new service. — Pray you, stay. 
 
 Mon. Sooth, 1 cannot. — By this light, I am so 
 Uiflnitely, HO unboinidably beholding to you ! 
 
 7'cn. Well, signior, I '11 leave you. — My cloak, 
 there ! 
 
 Mitt, Ten. When will you come homo, heart? 
 
 • SroM' //.JTliuHiiio. A n>uiiilii lliulioiuiaurTontorkouk. 
 
^VESTWARD HO. 
 
 213 
 
 Ten. In troth, self, I know not; a friend of 
 yours and mine hath broke. 
 
 Mist. Ten. "Who, sir? 
 
 Ten. Master Justiniano, the Italian. 
 
 Mist. Ten. Broke, sir ! 
 
 Ten. Yea, sooth : I was offered forty yesterday 
 upon the Exchange, to assure a hundred. 
 
 Mist. Ten. By my troth, I am sorry. 
 
 Ten. And his wife is gone to the party. 
 
 Mist. Ten. Gone to the party ! wicked crea- 
 ture ! 
 
 Ten. Farewell, good Master Monopoly : I prithee, 
 visit me often. 'lE.cit. 
 
 Mon. Little Moll, send away the fellow. 
 
 Mist. Ten. Philip, Philip,— 
 
 Cash. Here, forsooth. 
 
 Mist. Ten. Go into Bucklersbury,* and fetch 
 me two ounces of preserved melons : look there be 
 no tobacco taken in the shop when he weighs it. 
 
 Cash. Ay, forsooth. {Exit. 
 
 Mon. What do you eat preserved melons for, 
 Moin 
 
 Mist. Ten. In troth, for the shaking of the 
 heart : I have here sometime such a shaking, 
 and downwards such a kind of earthquake, as it 
 were. 
 
 Mon. Do you hear, let your man carry home 
 my money to the ordinary, and lay it in my 
 chamber : but let him not tell my host that it is 
 money : I owe him but forty pound, and the 
 rogue is hasty; he will follow me when he thinks 
 I have money, and pry into me as crows perch 
 upon carrion, and when he hath found it out, 
 prey upon me as heralds do upon funerals. 
 
 Mist. Ten. Come, come, you owe much money 
 in town : when you have forfeited your bond, I 
 shall ne'er see you more. 
 
 Mon. You ax'e a monkey : I'll pay him fore's 
 day : I'll see you to-morrow too. 
 
 Mist. Ten. By my troth, I love you very 
 honestly ; you were never the gentleman offered 
 any uucivility to me, which is strange, methinks, 
 in one that comes from beyond seas : would I 
 had given a thousand pound, I could not love 
 thee so ! 
 
 Mon. Do you hear, you shall feign some scurvy 
 disease or other, and go to the Bath next spring: 
 I'll meet you there. 
 
 Enter Mistress Honeysuckle and Mistress Wafer. 
 Mist. Honey. By your leave, sweet Mistress 
 Tenterhook. 
 
 * BucUershuriJl Iii our author's time, was chiefly 
 occupied by druggists. 
 
 Mist. Ten. 0, how dost, partner? 
 
 Mon. Gentlewomen, I stayed for a most happy 
 wiud, and now the breath from your sweet, sweet 
 lips should set me going. Good Mistress Honey- 
 suckle, good Mistress Wafer, good Mistress Ten- '*" 
 terhook, I will pray for you, that neither rivalship 
 in loves, pureness of painting, or riding out of 
 town, nor acquainting each other with it, be a 
 cause your sweet beauties do fall out, and rail / 
 one upon another. 
 
 Mist. Wafer. Rail, sir ! we do not use to rail. 
 
 Mon. Why, mistress, railing is your mother 
 tongue, as well as lying. 
 
 Mist. Honey. But do you think we can fall out? 
 
 Mon. In troth, beauties, as one spake seriously 
 that there was no inheritance in the amity of 
 princes, so think I of women; too often inter- 
 views amongst women, as amongst princes, breed 
 envy oft to other's fortune : there is only in the 
 amity of women an estate for will; and every 
 puny knows that is no cei'taiu inheritance. 
 
 Mist. Wafer. You are merry, sir. 
 
 Mon. So may I leave you, most fortunate 
 gentlewoman ! \_Exit. 
 
 Mist. Ten. [aside] Love shoots here. 
 
 Mist. Wafjr. Tenterhook, what gentleman is 
 that gone out 1 is he a man ? 
 
 Mist. Honey. God, and an excellent trumpeter. N 
 He came lately from the university, and loves 
 city dames only for their victuals. He hath an 
 excellent trick to keej) lob.sters and crabs sweet 
 in summer, and calls it a device to prolong the 
 days of shell-fish; for which I do suspect he hath 
 been clerk to some nobleman's kitchen. I have 
 heard he never loves any wench till she be as 
 stale as Frenchmen eat their wild-fowl.— [.4sicZe] I 
 shall anger her. 
 
 3Iist. Ten. How stale, good Mistress Nimble- 
 wit 1 
 
 Mist. Honey. Why, as stale as a country hostess, 
 an Exchange sempster, or a court laundress. 
 
 Mist. Ten. He is your cousin: how your tongue 
 runs! 
 
 3Iist. Honey. Talk and make a noise, no matter 
 to what purpose ; I have learned that with going 
 to puritan lectures. I was yesterday at a banquet : 
 will you discharge my ruffs of some wafers? — 
 And how doth thy husband, Wafer ? 
 
 3fist. Wafer. Faith, very well. 
 
 Mist. Honey. He is just like a torchbearer to 
 maskers; he weai-s good clothes, and is ranked in 
 good company, but he doth nothing : thou art 
 fain to take all and pay all. 
 
 Mist. Ten. The more happy she : would I could 
 
214 
 
 ^VESTWARD HO. 
 
 moko such an mb of my husband too ! — I hear 
 aay he breeds thy child in his teeth, every 
 year. 
 
 3/iV. ^\'afer. In faitli, he doth. 
 
 Mitt, llonty. liy ii>y troth, 'tis pity but the fool 
 should have the other two pains incident to the 
 heR<L 
 
 Mut. Wafer. What are they ? 
 
 MiM. Honey, Why, the head-ache and honi- 
 ache. I heard nay that ho would have hod thco 
 nursed thy child thyself too. 
 
 Mid. Wafer. That ho woul.I, truly. 
 
 Mi*t. Honey. Wliy, there's the policy of hus- 
 baiuLi to keep their wives in. I do aasuro you, if 
 a woman of any markabie face in the world give 
 her child suck, look, how many wrinkles be in 
 the nipple of her breojst, so many will bo in her 
 forehead by thiit time twelvemonth. But, sirrah,* 
 w« are come to acquaint thee with an excellent 
 secret ; we two learn to write. 
 
 Mxtt. Ten, To write ! 
 
 Mid. Honey. Yes, believe it, and we have the 
 
 finest schoolmaster, a kind of precisian, and yet 
 an lioneit knave too. By my troth, if thou beest 
 a good wench, let hiui teach thee : thou mayst 
 send him of any errand, and trust him with any 
 secret; nay, to see how demurely he will bear 
 himself before our husbands, and how jocund 
 when their backs are turned ! 
 
 MUt. Ten. For God's love, let me see him. 
 
 Mist. Wafer. To-morrow we'll send him to 
 thee: till then, sweet Tenterhook, we leave thee, 
 wishing thou mayst have the fortune to change 
 thy name often. 
 
 Mist. Ten. How ! change my name ! 
 
 Mist. Wafer. Ay ; for thieves and widows love 
 to shift many names, and make sweet use of it 
 too. 
 
 Mist. Ten. 0, you are a wag, indeed. GoO'l 
 Wafer, remember my schoolmaster. — Farewell, 
 good Honeysuckle. 
 
 Mist. Honey. Farewell, Tenterhook. [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 SCENE I.t 
 
 Bnter DowirAre, an npprmtict, bnuhing hU maMer't cloak 
 rnntt tap, uhU $tng>ng ; mUr UoNEYHUCKLE in hi$ 
 nigkl cap^trtuitHi/ hiimt(/l. 
 
 Honey, liouifaco, make an end of my clonk and 
 cap. 
 
 lion. I liave deH|>atchod 'om, sir; both of them 
 lia flat at your mercy. 
 
 Homey, 'Koro Ood, niethinks my joints are 
 uiuibler every morning ninco I came over than 
 they were bvfuro. In Frimce, when I rise,} 1 
 waa Ml iiiff aii<l no dtirk, I would ha' sworn my 
 
 • xmiAJ " Htrftih |ru«, !.••■ 
 
 IViaktmi,oarv'» AhI ' <i, lut. v. >«• 'J. 
 
 ••y»/.«. wi.v. II. -L 
 
 '' ■llii.o" 
 
 '. •!«. IM, 
 
 * ' ■ ' . . ....U Miyii U> 
 
 I' it liartko, «rmi, uil itio olio Ihluj,', If It foil 
 It 
 
 " lonj{ ttftttr 
 
 ■■■■Ir, ur 8,r 
 
 II.Miot, ".Vilml. 
 
 'io.,(ioiiUy liewnl 
 tiMt the wonl "Strt," 
 
 'IIIOII 
 
 ii iinytiioklo. 
 > M whlih 
 
 "jr i.ii«ii iiaeU riir Tvm 
 
 legs had been wooden pegs ; a constable new- 
 chosen kept not such a peripatetical gait : but 
 now I 'm as limber as an ancient * that has 
 flourished in the rain, and as active as a Norfolk 
 tumbler. 
 
 Bon. You may see what change of pasture is 
 able to do. 
 
 Honey. It makes fat calves in Romnoy-Marsh, 
 and lean knaves in London : thei-eforc, Boniface, 
 keep your ground. God's my pity, my foreiiend 
 has more crumples than the buck part of a 
 counsellor's gown, when another rides upon his 
 nock at the bar. Boniface, take my helmet; give 
 your mistress my night-cap. Are my antlers swoln 
 so big, that my biggen i)inche8 my brows ? So, 
 roipiest hor to make my headpiece a little wider. 
 
 Hon. How much wider, sir? 
 
 Honey. I can allow her almost an inch : go, tell 
 her so, very near an inch. 
 
 Bon. [asiilf] If xlio bo a right ritiKon's wife, now > 
 her huttlmnd hius given her an inch, she'll tike an ^ 
 oil, or a yard ut lea^t. [A'.ri/. 
 
 Knlrr Ji WTINUM) tUr ii trnlinu nifehiiniciil iiril'iut. 
 Honey. Miuntor Paronthcrtis! ialve,»alve,domi»e. 
 
 ■ ameUnl] 8oo uotA f. p. SI I. 
 
WESTWARD HO. 
 
 215 
 
 Just. Salve tu quoque; juieo te solvere plurimum. 
 
 Honey. No more 'plurimums, if you love me : 
 Latin whole-meats are now minced, and served in 
 for English gallimawfries ; let us, therefore, cut 
 out our uplandish neats' tongues, and talk like 
 regenerate Britons. 
 
 Just. Your woi'ship is welcome to England : I 
 poured out oi-isons for your arrival. 
 
 Honey. Thanks, good Master Parenthesis : and 
 que nouvelles ? what news flutters abroad ? do 
 jackdaws dung the top of Paul's steeple still ? 
 
 Just. The more is the pity, if any daws do 
 come into the temple, as I fear they do. 
 
 Honey. They say Charing-cross is fallen down 
 since I went to Rochelle : but that's no such 
 wonder ; 'twas old, and stood awry, as most part 
 of the world can tell : and though it lack under- 
 propping, yet, like great fellows at a wrestling, 
 when their heels are once flying up, no man will 
 save 'em ; down they fall, and there let them lie, 
 though they were bigger than the guard : Charing- 
 cross was old, and old things must shrink, as well 
 as new northern cloth. " 
 
 Just. Tour worship is in the right way, verily ; 
 they must so : but a number of better things 
 between Westminster-bridge and Temple-bar, 
 both of a worshipful and honourable erection, 
 are fallen to decay, and have suffered putre- 
 faction, since Charing fell, that were not of half so 
 long standing as the poor wry-necked monument. 
 
 Honey. Who's within there? One of you call 
 up your mistress : tell her here's her writing 
 schoolmaster. — I had not thought, Master Paren 
 thesis, you had been such an early stirrer. 
 
 Just. Sir, your vulgar and fourpenny penmen, 
 that, like your London sempsters, keep open shop 
 and sell learning by retail, may keep their beds 
 and lie at their pleasure ; but we, that edify in 
 private and traffic by wholesale, must be up with 
 the lark, because, like country attorneys, we are 
 to shuffle up many matters in a forenoon. Certes, 
 Master Honeysuckle, I would sing Laus Deo, so I 
 may but please all those that come under my 
 fingers; for it is my duty and function, perdy, to 
 be fervent in my vocation. 
 
 Honey. Your hand : I am glad our city has so 
 good, so necessary, and so laborious a member in 
 it; we lack painful and expert penmen amongst 
 us. Master Parenthesis, you teach many of our 
 merchants, sir, do you not * 
 
 Just. Both wives, maids, and daughters ; and I 
 thank God the very worst of them lie by very 
 good men's sides ; I pick out a poor living 
 amongst 'em, and I am thankful for it. 
 
 Honey. Trust me, I am not soriy : how long 
 have you exercised this quality I 
 
 Just. Come Michael-tide next, this thirteen 
 year. 
 
 Honey. And how does my wife profit under 
 you, sir? hope you to do any good upon her] 
 
 Just. Master Honeysuckle, I am in great hope 
 she shall fructify : I will do my best, for my 
 part ; I can do no more than another man can. 
 
 Honey. Pray, sir, ply her, for she is capable" of 
 any thing. 
 
 Jv^t. So far as my poor talent can stretch, it 
 shall not be hidden from her. 
 
 Honey. Does she hold her pen well yet ? 
 
 Just. She leans somewhat too hard upon her 
 pen yet, sir, but practice and animadversion will 
 break her from that. 
 
 Honey. Then she grubs her pen ? 
 
 Just. It's but my pains to mend the neb again. 
 
 Honey. And whereabouts is she now, Master 
 Parenthesis ? She was talking of you this morning, 
 and commending you in her bed, and told me she 
 was past her letters. 
 
 Just. Truly, sir, she took her letters very 
 suddenly, and is now in her minims. 
 
 Honey. I would she were in her crotchets too. 
 Master Parenthesis : ha, ha ! I must talk merrily, 
 sir. 
 
 Just. Sir, so long as your mirth be void of all 
 squirrility,* 'tis not unfit for your calling. I 
 trust, ere few days be at an end, to have her fall 
 to her joining, for she has her letters ad unguem; 
 her A, her great B, and her great C, very right j 
 D and E delicate; her double F of a good length, 
 but that it straddles a little too wide ; at the G 
 very cunning. 
 
 Honey. Her H is full, like mine ; a goodly big H. 
 
 Just. But her double L is well; her of a rea- 
 sonable size ; at her P and Q, neither merchant's 
 daughter, alderman's wife, young country gentle- 
 woman, nor coui tier's mistress, can match 
 her. 
 
 Honey. And how her U ] 
 
 Just. U, sir ! she fetches up U best of all ; her 
 single U she can fashion two or three ways, but 
 her double U is as I would wish it. 
 
 Honey. And, faith, who takes it faster,— my 
 wife or Mistress Tenterhook 1 
 
 Just. 0, your wife, by odds; she'll take more 
 in one hour than I can fasten either upon Mistress 
 Tenterhook, or Mistress Wafer, or ^stress Flap- 
 dragon the brewer's wife, in tbree. 
 
 * squirrility'] A corrupt form of scurHiity, sometimes 
 found in old writers. 
 
216 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 ACT. IL 
 
 Ent<r MlBTBBHB HONEYMICKLE. 
 
 Honey. Do not tby checks burn, sweet chuckaby, 
 for wc are talking of tliee? 
 
 Mut. Honey. No, goo<lne«a, I warrant : you have 
 few citizens Bp«ak well of their wives behind their 
 backs; but to their faces they'll cog worse and 
 be more suppliant than clients that sue in forma 
 paper* — How does my master? troth, I am a 
 very truant : have you your ruler about you, 
 master ! for, look you, I go clean awry. 
 
 [S/ioien enpy-book. 
 
 Jtut. A small fault; most of my scholars do 
 BO. — I^iok you, sir, do not you think your wife 
 will mend f mark her dashes, and her strokes, 
 and her brvakiiigs, and her bendiugi;. 
 
 Hunry. Siic knows what I have i>roraised her, 
 if she do mend. — Nay, by my fay. Judo, this is 
 well, if you would not lly out thus, but keep 
 your line. 
 
 Mitt, Honey. I shall in time, when my hand is 
 in. — Have you a new pen for me, master? for, by 
 my truly, my old one is stark naught, and will 
 cast no ink. — Whither are you going, lamb] 
 
 Honey. To the Custom-house, to the 'Change, 
 to my warehouse, to divers places. 
 
 Mitt. Honey. (Jood Cole, tiirry not past eleven, 
 for you turn my stomach then from my dinner. 
 
 Honey. I will make more haste home than a 
 Hti|>cudiary Switzcr does after he's paiJ. — Fare 
 you well. Matter I'areuthobis. 
 
 MUt. llunry. I aui so troubled with the rheum 
 t<>oI Mou»«, whal'ii good for't .' 
 
 Honey. How often have I told you you must 
 get • patch 1 1 I must hence. [Exit. 
 
 Mitt. Honey. I think, when lUl's* done, I nuist 
 follow his counsel, and tike a patch ; I['d] have 
 bad one long ore this, but for disfiguring my face: 
 yot I had noted that a mastic patch upon some 
 Women's temples hath boon the vi-ry rheum § of 
 IxMuly. 
 
 /' •' oiirly clmiiintULo luiTO » iiloikxiii-u In 
 
 •'•^" ' tonimlaiiUllcniiiofluw; huUuwlcy; 
 
 "I. t'> u.> u^aX,. \m U how Imt a KiilK>it uixlar Form,i 
 ^•1^**' M'Vm yoM mt mtt mm l-tutte mm, \M\> Hit- <i H. 
 
 " Vt* wkMi thoy M.\ Ihi« »i!tl.tx>Il for tn soo 
 
 1»IU, 
 
 
 I .< 
 
 -.. . V,,,,.. I.. lalcU 
 
 ^'r.^rf .inW WkiiA, U. il Silt I. 
 
 ooldod. "aU." 
 I Uhoto ; Uit «jy for wimi? 
 
 Jtut. Is he departed ? is old Nestor marched 
 into Troy 1 
 
 Mitt. Honey. Yes, you mad Greek ; the gentle- 
 man's gone. 
 
 Jast. Why, then, clap up copy-books, down with 
 pens, hang up ink-horns : and now, my sweet 
 Honeysuckle, see what golden-winged bee from 
 Hybla flies humming with crura thymo plena* 
 which he will empty iu the hive of your bosom. 
 
 [Giving letter. 
 
 MUt. Honey. From whom ? 
 
 Just. At the skirt of that sheet, in black work, 
 is wrought his name : break not up the wild-fowl t 
 till anon, and then feed upon him iu private : 
 there's other irons i'the fire, more sacks are 
 coming to the mill. you sweet temptations of 
 the sons of Adam, I commend you, extol you, 
 magnify you ! Were I a poet, by Hippocrene I 
 sweai- (which was a certixin well where all the 
 Muses watered), and by Pai-nassus eke I swear, I 
 would rhyme you to death with praises, for that 
 you can be content to lie with old men all night 
 for their money, and walk to your gardens with 
 young men i'the daytime for your pleasure. 
 you delicate damnations ! you do but as I would 
 do : were I the propercstj sweetest, plumpest, 
 cherry-cheeked, coral-lipped woman in a king- 
 dom, I would not dance after one man's pipe. 
 
 Mut. Honey. And why > 
 
 Jtisl. Especially after an old man's. 
 
 MUt. Honey. And why, pray? 
 
 Jtut. Especially after an old citizen's. 
 
 MUt. Honey. Still, and why? 
 
 Jiut. Marry, because the suburbs, and tho.-e 
 without the biu-s, have more privilege than they 
 within the freedom. What need one woman 
 dote upon one man ! or one num bo mad, like 
 Orlantlo, for one woman ? 
 
 Mist. Honey. Troth, 'tis true, considering how 
 much tlcrth is in every shambles. 
 
 Jaat. Why should I long to eat of baker's bread 
 only, when there's so much sifting, and bolting, 
 and grinding in evoiy comer of the city? Men 
 and women are born, and come ruiuiing into the 
 world faster than coaches do into Cln upside upon 
 Simon and Judo's day; and are eaten up by death 
 fuMter than mutton iin<l porridge in a term-time. 
 Who wouKl pin their hoarUs to any sleeve 1 This 
 world is like a mint : wo are no sooner cast into 
 
 „.,] 
 
 1 1 rururtiiit ao niH.'to ndiiorca, 
 ' I'trmt." Vil-K'll. fffOrp. Iv. ISl. 
 
 ♦ hrmk nor h;> lt,t trH.tf,„rl\ Tiifcrrdt «/i wrw an old torm 
 for i-iirvlutf. (8o In Sliukoj<i««ru'B Iaut'* l.i>lu>M,'t hml, not 
 »v. ms. I, ••UnaJi uji IIiIm cuiion," 1. o. 0|>on thU lotUr.) 
 
WESTWAED HO. 
 
 217 
 
 the fire, taken out again, hammered, stamped, 
 and made current, but presently we are changed : 
 the new money, like a new drab, is catched at by 
 Dutch, Spanish, "Welsh, French, Scotch, and 
 English ; but the old cracked King-Harry groats 
 are shovelled up, feel bruising and battering, 
 clipping and melting, — they smoke for't. 
 
 Mist. Money. The world's an arrant naughty 
 pack I see, and is a very scurvy world. 
 ^ Just. Scurvy ! worse than the conscience of a 
 broom-man, that carries out new ware and 
 brings home old shoes. A naughty pack ! why, 
 there's no minute, no thought of time passes, but 
 some villany or other is a-brewing. Why, even 
 now-now, at holding up of this finger, and 
 before the tui'ning down of this, some are 
 mvu-dering, some lying with theii- maids, some 
 picking of pockets, some cutting purses, some 
 cheating, some weighing out bribes ; in this city 
 some wives are cuckolding some husbands ; in 
 yonder village some farmers are now-now 
 grinding the jawbones of the poor. Therefore, 
 sweet scholar, sugared Mistress Honeysuckle, 
 take summer before you, and lay hold of it : why, 
 even now must you and I hatch an egg of iniquity. 
 Mist. Honey. Troth, master, I think thou wilt 
 prove a very knave. 
 
 Just. It's the fault of many that fight under 
 this band. 
 
 Mist. Honey. I shall love a puritan's face the 
 worse, whilst I live, for that copy of thy 
 countenance. 
 
 Just. "We are all weathercocks, and must follow 
 the wind of the present, from the bias. 
 Mist. Honey. Change a bowl, then.* 
 Just. I will so ; and now for a good cast : 
 there's the knight, Sh- Gosling Glowworm. 
 
 Mist. Honey. He's a knight made out of wax.f 
 Just. He took up silks upon his bond, I confess; 
 nay, more, he's a knight in print : but let his 
 knighthood be of what stamp it will, from him 
 come I, to entreat you, and Mistress Wafer, and 
 Mistress Tenterhook, being both my scholars, 
 and your honest pew-fellows, to meet him this 
 afternoon at the Rhenish wine-house i'the 
 Stilliaxd.J Captain "tMiirlpool will be there; 
 
 * from, the bias. 
 
 Mist. Honey. Change a bowl, then] Here the metaphor 
 is, of course, from the game of bowls. 
 
 t He's a knight made out of wax] So in Shakespeare's 
 Romeo and Juliet, act i. so. 3, the Nurse says of Paris, 
 " Why, ht's a man of wax." 
 
 % the Rhenish uine-house i'the StUliard] "Next to this 
 lane on the East [Cosia Lane, Dowgate Ward] is the 
 Stele house, or Stele yarde (as they terme it), a place for 
 
 young Linstock, the alderman's son and heir, 
 there too. Will you steal forth, and taste of a 
 Dutch bun and a keg of sturgeon ? 
 
 Mist. Honey. What excuse shall I coin now ? 
 
 Just, Phew ! excuses ! You must to the Pawn 
 to buy lawn ; * to Saint Martin's for lace ; to the 
 garden ; to the glass-house ; to your gossip's ; to 
 the poulter's :+ else take out an old ruff, and go 
 to your sempster's. Excuses ! why, they are 
 more ripe than medlars at Christmas. 
 
 Mist. Honey. PU come. The hour ? 
 
 Just. Two : the way through Paul's ; every 
 wench take a pillar, there clap on your masks : 
 your men will be behind you ; and, before your 
 prayers be half done, be before you, and man you 
 out at several doors. You'll be there ? 
 
 Mist. Honey. If I breathe. 
 
 Just. Farewell. [Exit Mist. Honey. 
 
 So : now must I go set the t'other wenches the 
 self-same copy : a rare schoolmaster for all kind 
 
 Marchantes of Almaine," &c. Stow's Survey of Zondon, 
 159S, p. 1S4. 
 
 " Stilliard is a place in London, where the fraternitie 
 of the Easterling Merchants, otherwise the Merchants of 
 the Haunse and Almaiae, are wout to have their abode. 
 It is so called Stilliard, of a broad place or court wherein 
 Steele was much sould, q. Steeleyard, upon which that 
 house is now fovmded." Minshew's Guide into Tongues, 
 1617. 
 
 "They [The Hans Town Merchants] were permitted 
 to sell Rhenish wine by retail." Malcolm's London, vol. 
 i. p. 48. 
 Compare with the passage in the text; 
 " Men when they are idle, and know not what to do, 
 saith one. Let us go to the stillyard and drinke Rhenish 
 ■wine, ke." Nash's Pierce Peiinilesse, Sig. E 2, ed. 1595. 
 
 " Who would let a Cit (whose teeth are rotten out with 
 sweet meates his mother biings him from goshippiugs) 
 breathe upon her vemish for the promise of a dry neat's 
 tongue and a pottle of Rhenish at the stillyard, when she 
 may command a blade to toss and tumble her?" 
 Xabbes's Bride, 1640, Sig. E. 
 
 To this note I now (1857) add, on the authority of Mr. 
 P. Cunningham's Handbook of London — that the Steel- 
 yard, Stelyard, or Stilliard (in Upper Thames Street, in 
 the ward of Dowgate) appears to have been so called from 
 its being the place where the King's steelyard, or beam, 
 was erected for weighing the tonnage of goods imported 
 into London. — In the present passage the old ed. has 
 "Stillyard," but twice afterwards it has "Stilliard." 
 
 * to tlie Pawn to buy lawii] So in the ciuious poetical 
 dialogue 'Tis merry •when gossips meet, 1609, the Wife 
 says; 
 
 " In truth (kind cousse) my comming's from the Pawn, 
 But I i^rotest I lost my labour there : 
 A Gentleman promist to give me laicne. 
 And did not meet me, which he well shall heare." 
 
 Stanza 2nd. 
 
 The Pawn (Bahn, Germ., a path or walk ; Baan, Dutch, 
 
 a pathway) was a conidor, which formed a kind of 
 
 Bazaar, in the Royal Exchange (Gresham's). See 
 
 Cunningham's Handbook of London. 
 
 t jioulter's] i. e. poulterer's. 
 
218 
 
 >VE.STWARD HO. 
 
 of hands I. 0, what strange curses are poured 
 
 down with one blessing ! 
 
 Do all tread on the heel ? Have all the art 
 
 To hoodwink wise men thus? and, like those 
 
 builders 
 Of Babel's tower, to speak unknown tongues, 
 Of all, save by their husband.'^, understood? 
 Well, if, as ivy 'bout the elm does twine, 
 All wivea love clipping,* there's no fault in 
 
 mine. 
 But if the world lay speechless, even the dead 
 Would rise, and thus cry out from yawning graves, 
 Women make men or fools, or beasts, or slaves. 
 
 IEjcU. 
 
 SCENE II.» 
 Ai/<r Eaiu. a)i<< MibTR»i«i Birdume. 
 EarL Her answer! talk in music: will she 
 
 comet 
 Bird. 0, my sides ache in my loins, in my 
 bonex : I ha' more need of a posset of sack, and 
 lie in my bed and sweat, than to talk in music. 
 No honest woman would run hurrying up and 
 down thus, and undo herself for a man of honour, 
 without reason. I am so lame, every foot that I 
 Hft to the ground went to my heart; I thought I 
 hud been at mumchance,t n>y bones rattled bo 
 with jaunting : had it not been for a friend in a 
 corner [TakcM aqua-vUa], I had kicked up my 
 , hoeU. 
 
 I £arl. Minister comfort to me, — will she come? 
 Bitxt. All the castlca of comfort that I can 
 put you into is this, that the jealous wittol her 
 hunbsiid came, like a mad ox, billowing in whilst 
 1 was there. O, 1 ha' loht my sweet breath with 
 tnittiiii;. 
 
 Karl Death to my heart ! her hubband ! What 
 
 Huitli he ? 
 Jlini. Tlio friiee-jerkin nucal out with his purM, 
 ■nd called me plniu bawd to my fiuo. 
 
 liarl. Aflliction to mo! then thou spiik'st not 
 
 to horl 
 
 BirtI I Hpuko to her, OS client* do to lawyers 
 
 without uioMj.y, to no purpoae; but I'll speak 
 
 with hiiti, and hamixr him too. if ever he fall 
 
 into my clut«lic« : I'll make the yellow hammer 
 
 ; ber hu«)«nd know (fur all he's an Italian) that 
 
 lhpr«'» • .IjtTorrni-o butwrrn a cogging bawd and 
 
 an hoiiMt M.otherly gentlewomau. Now, what 
 
 • H. ............ ■ ' 
 
 I* >. l!io 110,1.0 of thoKorl 
 
 ' - ■•' oHlior Willi dice or 
 
 •wiU M JUt*» lU»U;i..K. itUuUM to llw ruruiar moUiod. 
 
 cold whetstones lie over your stomacher 1 will 
 
 you have some of my aqua f Whj-, my lord ! 
 
 Earl. Thou hivst kill'd me with thy words. 
 
 Bird. I see bashful lovers and young bullocks 
 are knocked down at a blow. Come, come, drink 
 this draught of cinnamon-water, and pluck up 
 your spirits; up with 'em, up with 'em. Do you 
 hear ? the whiting-mop * has nibbled. 
 
 Earl. Ha! 
 
 Bird. 0, I thought I should fetch you : you 
 can "ha" at that; I'll make you hem anon. As 
 I'm a sinner, I think you'll find the sweetest, 
 sweetest bedfellow of her. 0, she looks so 
 BugareJly, so simperingly, so gingerly, so amo- 
 rously, so amiably ! Such a red lip, such a white 
 forehead, such a black eye, such a full cheek, and 
 such a goodly little nose, now she's in that 
 French gown, Scotch falls, Scotch bum, and 
 Italian head-tire you sent her, and is such an 
 enticing she-witch, carrying the charms of your 
 jewels about her ! ! 
 
 Earl. Did she receive them? speak, — here's 
 golden keys [Oivinff monct/. 
 
 To imlock thy lips, — did she vouchsafe to take 
 them ? 
 
 Bird. Did she vouchsafe to take them ? there's 
 a question ! you shall find she did vouchsafe. 
 The troth i.^ my lord, I got her to my house, 
 there she put off her own clothes, my lord, and 
 put on your's, my lord ; provided her a coach ; 
 searched the middle aisle in PaurB,t and with 
 three Elizabeth twelve-pences pressed thrce 
 knaves, my lord ; hired three liveries in Loug- 
 lane,t to man her : for all which, so God mend 
 me, I'm to pay this night before sim-set. y 
 
 Earl. This shower shall till them all : rain in 
 their laps 
 What golden drops thou wilt. 
 
 Bird. A las, my lord, I do but receive it with 
 
 • wliUingtiK>ii] I. 0. younjf whitiiif;, — u i-nnt tiTin for ii 
 iiioo yuunt; woinnii, a toiulur crcuturo. 
 
 f ttatxiinl tilt iiiUlillf ainlf in Paul't, ii»tl trUli tlirff 
 EliniMli lKtlrt-]ifnrr> i>rtiuieil lhr<e l-nafrt] roraona of 
 0V017 doacTi|itl(<n, with a strniifro wimt of rovi'ix<uoo for 
 tlio KuiK'tlty of tlio H|>ot. iisotl liuily to fro<|UiMit tlio IkhIv 
 ofolilSt riuir8. Thcio tlio younu ptltimt jfmtifio<l IiIh 
 vanity by Hinittini; iilioiit In tluMiu^t fiuilii>>n!klilo altiiv; 
 tlioi-o tlio polltit'itui (llHfiiiuiotl tliK liktoHt iiowB ; tlicrc ho 
 wlio roiilil not i\fl",,iil to illne loitoivil iliirint; tlio .lliiiior- 
 liour ; (lirr* Iht ttrvnnt out of i<liin conu to bf eviKUtnl : 
 tlu-ro till! |iU'l(|MK'l(at found tho licit 0|>iiorHiiiUicii f»ir 
 Die oxori'liM) of liU tnlonlit. *c. 
 
 t Atrr<< thrr* livrrlrt in lAmff-lnnr] "Tlio liinc. tniolio 
 (•i»llc<l I^iiiK." (SIow'b Surxfu, |.. .SI I. od. 1,'iOS.) iiinnhiK' 
 <Mil of AliU.t>»;nt« uti-cft, niiil fulling Into Wot Sniitli- 
 flolil, nl>ouii<lo<l In kliojia wlioro »oconil-litui<l npparvl 
 inltfhl lio procurod. 
 
WESTWARD HO. 
 
 219 
 
 one hand, to pay it away with another : I'm but 
 your baily. 
 
 Earl. Where is she 1 
 
 Bird. In the green-velvet chamber : the poor 
 sinful creatm-e pants like a pigeon under the 
 hands of a hawk ; therefore use her like a woman, 
 my lord; use her honestly, my lord, for, alas, 
 she's but a novice and a very green thing. 
 
 Earl. Farewell: I'll in unto her. 
 
 Bird. Fie upon't, that were not for your 
 honour ; you know gentlewomen use to come to 
 lords' chambers, and not lords to the gentle- 
 women's : I'd not have her think you are such a 
 rank rider. Walk you here : I'll beckon ; you 
 shall see I'll fetch her with a wet finger. 
 
 Earl. Do so. 
 
 Bird. Hist ! why, sweetheart. Mistress Jus- 
 tiniano ! why, pretty soul, tread softly, and come 
 into this room : here be rushes ; * you need not 
 fear the creaking of your cork shoes. 
 
 EaUr Mistress Justiniaxo. 
 So, well said!+ — There's his honour. — I have 
 business, my lord : very now the marks are set 
 up, I'll get me twelve score off, and give aim.J 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Earl. You're welcome, sweet, you're welcome. 
 Bless my hand 
 With the soft touch of yours. Can you be cruel 
 To one so prostrate to you ? even my heart. 
 My happiness, and state lie at your feet. 
 My hopes me flatter'd that the field was won, 
 That you had yielded (though you conquer me). 
 And that all marble scales, that baiT'd your eyes 
 From throwing light on mine, were quite ta'en off 
 By the cunning woman's hand that works for me: 
 Why, therefore, do you wound me now with 
 
 frowns ? 
 Why do you fly me 1 Do not exercise 
 The art of woman on me ; I'm already 
 Your captive, sweet. Are these your hate or fears ? 
 
 Mist. Just. I wonder lust can hang at such 
 white hairs. ^ 
 
 Earl. You give my love iU names, it is not lust ; 
 Lawless desires well temper 'd may seem just. 
 A thousand mornings with the early sun, 
 Mine eyes have 'fore § your windows watch'd to 
 
 steal 
 Brightness from those ; as oft upon the days 
 That consecrated to devotion are, 
 Within the holy temple have I stood 
 
 * rw-heil See note t> P- 21. 
 
 t wdl said .'] In our early wi-iters is often equivalent to 
 
 Wei! O.one ! % give aim] See note * p. 20. I 
 
 %'jort\ The old ed. "from." | 
 
 Disguis'd, waiting your presence ; and when your 
 
 hands 
 Went up towards heaven to draw some blessing 
 
 down. 
 Mine, as if all my nerves by yours did move, 
 Begg'd in dumb signs some pity for my love : 
 And thus being feasted only with your sight, 
 I went more pleas'd than sick men with fresh 
 
 health, 
 Rich men with honour, beggars do with wealth. 
 
 Mist. Just. Part now so pleas'd; for now you 
 more enjoy me. 
 
 Earl. 0, you do wish me physic to destroy me! 
 
 Mist. Just. I have already leap'd beyond the 
 bounds 
 Of modesty, in piecing out my wings 
 With borrow'd feathers : but you sent a sorceress 
 So perfect in her trade, that did so lively 
 Breathe forth your passionate accents, and could 
 
 draw 
 A lover languishing so piercingly. 
 That hef charms wi-ought upon me, and, in pity 
 Of your sick heart, which she did counterfeit 
 (0, she's a subtle beldam !), see, I cloth 'd 
 My limbs, thus player-like, in rich attires 
 Not fitting mine estate; and am come forth, — 
 But why I know not. 
 
 Earl. Will you love me ? 
 
 Mist. Just. Yes ; 
 If you can clear me of a debt that's due 
 But to one man, I'll pay my heart to thee. 
 
 Earl. Who's that ? 
 
 Mist. Just. My husband. 
 
 Earl. Um. 
 
 Mist. Just. The sum's so great, 
 I know a kingdom cannot answer it ; 
 And therefore I beseech you, good my lord. 
 To take this gilding ofl^, which is your own. 
 And henceforth cease to throw out golden hooks 
 To choke mine honour: though my husband's 
 
 poor, 
 I '11 rather beg for him than be yoiir whore. 
 
 Eaii. 'Gainst beauty you plot treason, if you 
 suffer 
 Tears to do violence to so fair a cheek. 
 That face was ne'er made to look pale with want : 
 Dwell here, and be the sovereign of my fortrmes : 
 Thus shall you go attir'd. 
 
 Mist. Just. Till lust be tir'd. 
 I must take leave, my lord. 
 
 Eaj-l. Sweet creature, stay. 
 My coffers shall be yours, my servants yours. 
 Myself will be your servant ; and I swear 
 By that which I hold dear in you, your beauty 
 
220 
 
 ^^'ESTWARD HO. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 (And which I'll not profano), you shall live hero 
 As free from ba«« wrong as you are from blackne«8, 
 So you will deign but let luc enjoy your tsi^'ht. 
 AnBwer me, will youl 
 
 Mut. J tut. I will think upon't. 
 
 Earl. UnloM you shall perceive that all my 
 thoughts 
 And all my actions bo to you devoted, 
 And that I very justly cam your love. 
 Let me not ta^te it 
 
 Miti. Jfui. I will think upon it 
 
 Bari. But when you find my merits of full 
 weight, 
 Will you accept their worth ? 
 
 3Iuf. Jiut. I'll think upon't 
 I'd R|>eak with the old woman. 
 
 EarL She hhidl come. — 
 Joys, that lue born unlook'd for, are born dumb. 
 
 \Sxit. 
 
 Mul. Just. Poverty, thou bane of chastity, \ 
 PoiiH>n of beauty, broker of maidenheads ! 
 I BOO when force nor wit can scale the hold, 
 Wealth must ; she'll ne'er bo won that defies gold : 
 But lives there such a creature ? 0, 'tis rare 
 To find a woman chaste that's poor and fair. / 
 
 hr-entrr Birdumc. 
 Hir^. Now, lamb, has not his honour dealt 
 liko an lioiieHt nobleman witli you ? I can tell 
 you, you ■hull not find him a Templar, nor one of 
 tbeae co^t^iug Catheiiiio pear-coloured * be.aids, 
 tlj«t by their gwjd wills would have no pretty 
 woinoii Hca|>e them. 
 
 Mitt. Jiut. Thou art a vei-y b;»wd, tliou art a 
 devil 
 Cast in a reverend shape : thou stale damnation.f 
 Why host thou mo entic'd from mine own 
 
 paradijM), 
 To »te«l fruit in a barn-n wilderneHs I 
 
 JUrd. ILkwd, and devil, and stale damnation! 
 Will women's tongues, liko bakers' U-ga, never go 
 ktr«i((hl} 
 
 -Wu* JmM. liatl tliy Circtoan magic mo trnns- 
 fiinii'd 
 Into tlmt neiiNual sliuiw for which thou conjur'at, 
 AimI that I woro turn'd common venturer, 
 j I could not lovo thU ohl man. 
 
 lltnL Thia old man, um t this old man ! do 
 W« ba«7 halm stick in your stomach 1 yot, 
 
 ..1 
 
 II Hliakaa|waf«'s Kanum 
 ><>le, III Tttt MiilriitttrHl, 
 11), use "aiidoiit WiiM 
 
 methinks, hia silver hairs should move you : they 
 may serve to make you bodkins. Does his ago 
 grieve you ? Fool ! is not old wine wholcsomest, 
 old pippin.s toothsomest, old wood bum brightePt, 
 old linen wash whitest? Old soldiers, sweetheart, 
 are surest, and old lovers are soundest : I ha' 
 tried both. 
 
 Miit. Juit. So will not I. 
 
 Bird. You'd have some young perfumed 
 beardless gallant* board you, that spits all his 
 bnuns out at's tongue's end, would you not ? 
 
 Mint. Jutt. No, none at all ; not any. 
 
 Bird. None at all ! what do you make there, 
 then? why are you a burden to the world's 
 conscience, and an eye-sore to well-given men ? 
 I dare pawn my gown, and all the beds in my 
 house, and all the gettings in Michaelmas-term 
 next, to a tavern-token, t that thou shalt never be 
 an innocent. 
 
 Mist. Just. Who are so ? 
 
 Bird. FooLs : why, then, are you eo precise ? 
 Your husband's down the wind ; and will you, 
 like a haggler's arrow, be down the weather? 
 Strike whilst the iron is hot. A woman, when 
 there be roses in her cheeks, cherries on her lips, 
 civet in her breath, ivory in her teeth, lilies in 
 her hand, and liquorice in her heart, why, she's 
 like a play; if new, very good company, very 
 good company; but if stale, like old Jeronimo, 
 go by, go by : * therefore, as I Siiid before, strike. 
 Besides, you must think that the commodity of 
 beauty was not made to lie dead upon any young 
 woman's hands : if your husband have given up 
 his cloak, let another take measiu-e of you in his 
 jerkin; for as the cobbler in the night-time^ 
 walks with his lantern, the merchant and the 
 
 • inillttnt] The old ed. " GalUmtt." 
 
 t atavtm-l(4.-m\ There l>eiiig a scari-ity of small chan^, 
 tnidosinen wore allowoil toi-oiii toka{» — proiiiisnory piccoa 
 of l>ruiui or eiippcr, of tlio value of a fiirUnn^;. Hoorl 
 (iioto on the First I'lirt of TIk llontst HViorv, act i. sc, 4.) 
 thiiikN tlioy wore tulled taimi-lokmii, liceauso tlioy wero 
 "proliulily at tirst coined ehiofly by titvorn kcc|ioi-B;" 
 liiit (ilfliini (nolo ou Hon Jonson'a )\'oilt, vol. I. p. •2>i.) 
 ol«crvca, " thiit moat of tlioin would tmvel to tlio tavorn 
 njuy lie onalty Hup|io«od, and lioDi-e, iic<rlia)us tliouaiuc." 
 
 t III-* itlit JrroHimo, go hii, ffo fcy] An nlluHion to a |ias- 
 >tAK8 In Kyd'M A>i»iW. Trtignlji, which liiis Ikjou rtdiculol 
 t>y a lumt of iHtctn ; 
 •• //irromiiio JiiHtlco, O, jiiBtico to lliofoniino I 
 
 Xonmw. IJnck ! st-o'iit thou not the king U busloT 
 
 Ihrrtmimo. O, U ho so? 
 
 Ktnp. Who U ho tlmt Intomipta our bualncwiT 
 
 HtrroHtmo. Not I. — llioruniino. Ikjwiito; f;orfty, j;<v6y." 
 HIk- O 4 AlMo'acd n. d 
 
 It may l>o Jiiat no«oa«iiy to add, tlmt tho S/Mininh 
 TVrijKWy li A conllnimllon of Thr J-'irtt Port of Jrronimo, 
 whl. h woa moat proUd.ly ,iIho tho work of Kyd. 
 
SCEXE III. 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 221 
 
 lawyer with his link, and the courtier vrith his 
 torch, so every lip has his lettuce to himself; 
 the lob has his lass, the collier his dowdy, the 
 western-man his pug, the serving-man his punk, 
 the student his nun in White-friars, the puritan 
 his sister, and the lord his lady ; which worshipful 
 vocation may fall upon you, if you'll but strike 
 whilst the iron is hot. 
 
 Mist. Just. Witch, thus I break thy spells : 
 were I kept brave* 
 On a king's cost, I am but a kyig's slave. [Exit. ^ 
 
 Bird. I see, that, as Frenchmen love to be 
 bold, Flemings to be drunk, Welshmen to be 
 called Britons, and Irishmen to be costermongers, 
 80 cockneys, especially she cockneys, love not 
 aqua-vitae when 'tis good for them. 
 
 Enter MoxopoLY.t 
 Hon. Saw you my uncle ] 
 Bird. I saw him even now going the way of all 
 flesh , that's to say, towards the kitchen. Here's 
 a letter to your worship from the party. 
 
 [Giving Utter. 
 Mon. What party ? 
 Bird. The Tenterhook, your wanton. 
 Mon. From her ! phew ! pray thee, stretch me 
 no more upon your Tenterhook : pox on her ! are 
 ■ there no pothecaries i' the town to send her 
 physic-bills to, but me ? She's not troubled with 
 the green-sickness still, is she? 
 
 Bird. The yellow jaundice, as the doctor tells 
 me. Troth, she's as good a peat! she is fallen 
 away so, that she's nothing but bare skin and 
 bone ; for the turtle so mourns for you ! 
 Mon. In black 1 . 
 
 Bird. In black ! you shall find both black and 
 blue, if you look under her eyes. 
 
 Mon. Well, sing over her ditty when I'm in 
 tune. 
 
 Bird. Nay, but will you send her a box of 
 mithridatum and dragon-water, — I mean some 
 I restorative words ? Good Master Monopoly, you 
 know how welcome you're to the city ; and will 
 you, Master Monopoly, keep out of the city ? I 
 know you cannot ; would you saw how the poor 
 gentlewoman lies ! 
 
 Mon. Why, how lies she? 
 Bird. Troth, as the way lies over Gads-hill, 
 very dangerous : you would pity a woman's case, 
 
 * hro.ve\ i. e. finely dressed. 
 
 t Enter Monopoly. 
 Mon. Saw you uiy uncle ?] Qy. is the Earl the uncle 
 of Monopoly ? and the latter, in consequence of that 
 relationship, now under the Earl's roof? Or were the 
 audience to suppose, after Mrs. Justiniano's exit, a change 
 of place ? 
 
 if you saw her. Write to her some treatise of 
 pacification. 
 
 Mon. I'll write to her to-morrow. 
 
 Bird. To-morrow ! she'll not sleep, then, but 
 tumble : an if she might have it to-night, it 
 would better please her. 
 
 3Ion. Perhaps I'll do't to-night : farewell. 
 
 Bird. If you do't to-night, it would better 
 please her than to-morrow. 
 
 Mon. God's so, dost hear ] I 'm to sup this night 
 at the Lion in Shoreditch with certain gallants : 
 canst thou not draw forth some delicate face 
 that I ha' not seen, and bring it thither] wut 
 thou? 
 
 Bird. All the painters in London shall not fit 
 for colour as I can : but we shall have some 
 swaggering ? 
 
 3Ion. All as civil, by this light, as lawyers. 
 
 Bird. But, I tell you, she's not so common as 
 lawyers, that I mean to betray to your table ; 
 for, as I'm a sinner, she's a knight's cousin, — a 
 Yorkshire gentlewoman, and only speaks a little 
 broad, but of very good carriage. 
 
 Mon. Nay, that's no matter ; we can speak as 
 broad as she : but wut bring her ? 
 
 Bird. You shall call her cousin, do you see? 
 two men shall wait upon her, and I'll come in by 
 chance : but shall not the party be there ? 
 
 Mon. Which party ? 
 
 Bird. The writer of that simple hand. 
 
 Mon. Not for as many angels as there be letters 
 in her paper : speak not of me to her, nor our 
 meeting, if you love me. Wut come ? 
 
 Bird. Mum, I'll come. 
 
 Mon. Farewell. 
 
 Bi7-d. Good Master Monopoly, I hope to see 
 you one day a man of great credit. 
 
 Mon. If I be, I'll build chimneys with tobacco, 
 but I'll smoke some : and be sure. Birdlime, I'll 
 stick wool upon thy back. 
 
 Bi/'d. Thanks, sir, I know you will; for all the 
 kindred of the Monopolies are held to be great 
 fleecers. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE III.* 
 
 Enter Sra Gosldjg Glowworm, Lixstock, 'Whirlpool; 
 and the three Citizens' Wives, masked, viz.. Mistress 
 
 HONETSDCKLE, MiSTRESS WAFER, and MiSTRESS TEN- 
 TERHOOK. 
 
 Sir Gos. So, draw those curtains, and let's see 
 the pictures under 'em. [The ladies unmask.} 
 
 Lin. Welcome to the Stilliard, fair ladies. 
 
 * Scene III.] The same. A room in the Bhenish wine- 
 house in the Stilliard. See note X, p. 217. 
 
222 
 
 ^VESTWARD HO. 
 
 Mitt. Honey., Mitt. Wafer., Mil. Ten. Thanks, 
 goo<l Mastor Linstock. 
 
 Whirl. UanB, some wine, Hans! 
 
 Entrr IIaXS Ifi/A ctMh an-l hunt. 
 
 Uana. Yaw, raw, you Ball hebben it, mester: 
 old vino or new vine? 
 
 .Sir Got. Si>cak, women. 
 
 Mut. Honry. Now wine, good Sir Gosling: — 
 wine in tlio must, good Dutchman, for must is 
 best for us women. 
 
 //.in*. New vine, — veil; two pota of new vine ! 
 
 \ETii. 
 
 Mitt. Honey. An honest butterbox ; for if it be 
 oM, there's none of it comes into my belly. 
 
 Mitt. Wafer. Why, Tonterhook, pray thee, let's 
 dance friskin, and be inen*y. 
 
 Lin. Thou art so troubled with Monopolies; 
 they so hang at thy heart-strings. 
 
 Mi^. Ten. Pox o' my heart, then. 
 
 Rrrnltr Hans yrith tri'nc. 
 
 Mi*t. Honey. Ay, and mine too: if any courtier 
 of them all set up his gallows there, wench, use 
 him as thou dost thy pantiibles,* scorn to let him 
 kiM thy heel, for ho feeds theo with nothing but 
 oourtholy-bread.t good words, and cares not for 
 thee. — Sir Gosling, will you tiiste a Dutch what's 
 you c-all 'em f 
 
 MiBl. Wafer. Here, Master Linstock, half mine 
 is yours : b»in, bun, bun, bun. 
 
 Jatt, [vithin] Which room? where aro they? — 
 Woho, ho, lio, 80-ho, boys! 
 
 Sir (i<t». '.Sfoot. who's that? lock our room. 
 
 Jutt. [teithin] Not till I nin in ; and then lock out 
 the devil, though become in tlioshapoofapuritau. 
 
 /f>i/«T JfCTiyiAWo ill»f/uite'l at bt/iirt. 
 
 Mist Honey., Milt. Wafer., Mitt. Ten. School- 
 iiia»trr, welciime; welcome, in troth. 
 
 JhM. Who would not be scratched with thebriers 
 and brauibles to have such burs slicking on his 
 br«oche«1— Bavoyou.gontleroen! — noble knight! 
 
 Btr (ht. Mora wine, Hans I 
 
 J»tt. Am not I. gentlemen, a forrot of the rijjht 
 h«lr, that oaji make throe c<inie« bolt at a clnp 
 \nXn your piirM neU ? ; lia, little do tlieir three 
 1. ..l.:*!!.!* dream what copies I am sotting thoir 
 » a now woro'l nul a rare jest, if thoy hIiouM 
 '»(( upon ut, like a hdrriblo noiao of 
 
 «.• w« mora umially And It, 
 <U»Ury, liwlnc«r« c>i>iii|illtiiatil«. 
 *» '. |i I.Vi. 
 
 '»|iuiy uf flOdlori 
 
 Mitt, Honey. Troth, I'd not care; let 'em come; 
 I'd tell 'em we'd ha' none of their dull music. 
 
 Mitt. Wafer, [drinking] Here, Mistress Tenter- 
 hook. 
 
 Mitt. Ten. Thanks, good Mistress Wafer. 
 
 Jast. Who's there ? peepers, intelligencers, 
 eavesdroppers ! 
 
 Omnet. Uds foot, throw a pot at's head ! 
 
 Just. Lord ! gentlemen, knight, laiies that 
 may be, citizens' wives that are, shift for your- 
 selves, for a pair of your husbands' heads are 
 knocking together with Hans his, and inquiring 
 for you. 
 
 Omnet. Keep the door locked. 
 
 Mist. Honey. 0. ay, do, do; and let Sir Gosling 
 (because he has been in the Low Countries) swear 
 Gotz Sacrament, and drive 'em away with broken 
 I Dutch. 
 
 Just. Here's a \Fr:iich has simple sparks in her : 
 she's my pupil, gallants. — [Aside] Good God ! I 
 see a man is not sure that his wife is in the 
 chamber, though his own fingers hung on the 
 padlock : trap-doors, false drabs, and spring-locks, 
 may cozen a covey of constables. How the silly 
 husbands might here ha' been gulled with Flemish 
 money ! — Come, drink up Rhine, Thames, aud 
 Meander dry ; there's nobody. 
 
 Mist. Honey. Ah, thou ungodly master ! 
 
 Jtuit. I did but make a false fire, to try your 
 valour, because you cried " Let'em come." By 
 this gluss of woman's wine, I would not ha' seen 
 their spirits walk here, to be dubbed deputy of a 
 ward, I : they would ha' chronicled me for a fox 
 in a lamb's skin. But, come; is this men-y 
 midsummer-night agreed upon? when shall it 
 bo? whore shall it bo? 
 
 Lin. Why. faitli, to-morrow at night 
 
 Whirl. We'll take a coach and ride to Ham or 
 
 BO. 
 
 Mist. Ten. O, fie upon't, a coach ! I cannot 
 abide to be joltod. 
 
 Mitt. Il'<(/er. Yet most of your citizens' wives 
 lovo jolting. 
 
 Sir (I'jt. What say you to lUaokwall or Linio- 
 honso ? 
 
 Mitt. Honey. Every room there smell.-* too much 
 of tar. 
 
 Lin, Lot's to mine host Dogbolt's at Brninford," 
 then : thoro you aro out of eyes, out of ojirs ; 
 private roon>s, sweet linen, winking atteudiuico, 
 aud what cheer you will. 
 
 Omnet. Content, to Bniinford. 
 
 • Bniin/k,nl] I o. Hrontfonl. (1 i-oUiu lli.^ ..1.1 Hp.<llin.r 
 on Aivoutit of llio |iun In p. *.M.1.) 
 
SCENE III. 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 223 
 
 Mist. Wafer. Ay, ay, let's go by water; for, 
 Sir Gosling, I have lieard you say you love to go 
 by water. 
 
 Mist. Honey. But, wenches, with what pulleys 
 shall we slide, with some cleanly excuse, out of 
 our husbands' suspicion, being gone westward for 
 smelts* all night? 
 
 Just. That's the block now we all stumble at : 
 wind up that string well, and all the consort's f in 
 tune. 
 
 Mist. Honey. Why, then, goodman scraper, 'tis 
 wound up, I have it. — Sirrah Wafer, thy child's 
 at nurse :— if you that are the men could provide 
 some wise ass that could keep his countenance, — 
 
 Jwst. Nay, if he be an ass, he will keep his 
 countenance. 
 
 Mist. Honey. Ay, but I mean, one that could 
 set out his tale with audacity, and say that the 
 child were sick, and ne'er sta^-^^r at it ; that last 
 should serve all our feet. 
 
 Whirl. But where will that wise ass be found 
 now 1 
 
 Just. I see I'm born still to draw dun out o'the 
 mire J for you ; that wise beast will I be. I '11 be 
 that ass that shall groan under the burden of 
 that abominable lie : heaven pardon me, and pray 
 God the infant be not punished for't ! Let me 
 see : I '11 break out in some filthy shape like a 
 thrasher, or a thatcher, or a sowgelder, or some- 
 thing : and speak dreamingly, and swear how the 
 child pukes, and eats nothing (as perhaps it does 
 not), and lies at the mercy of God (as all children 
 and old folks do); and then, scholar Wafer, play 
 you your part. 
 
 Mist. Wafer. Fear not me for a veney § or two. 
 
 * toestmarcl for smelUl A proverbial expression. In 
 1603 appeared a story-book (which suggested to Shake- 
 speare some of the circumstances in Cynibeline) entitled 
 Westward for Smelts, or the Waterman's Fare of Mad 
 Merry Western Wenches, <fcc. 
 
 t coTisort's'] See note onSorthvwrd Ho,a.iiin. sc. i.,p. 260. 
 
 I to draw dun out o' the mire'] Giiibrd thus satisfactorily 
 describes a game, the allusion to which in Romeo and 
 Juliet^ act i. sc iv., had completely puzzled all Shake- 
 speare's commentators. "Dun is in the mire is a Christ- 
 mas gambol, at which I have often played. A log of 
 wood is brought into the midst of the room : this is Dun, 
 (the cart-horse,) and a cry is raised, that he is stuek in the 
 mire. Two of the company advance, either with or with- 
 out ropes, to draw him out. After repeated attempts, 
 they find themselves unable to do it, and call for more 
 assistance. The game continues till all the company 
 take part in it, when Dun is extricated of course ; and 
 the merriment arises from the awkward and affected 
 efforts of the rustics to lift the log, and from sundiy arch 
 contrivances to let the ends of it fall on one another's 
 toes." Note on Ben Jonson's Worl-s, vol. vii. p. 283. 
 
 § venei/l Or veiiue, a technical term for a hit or thrust in 
 playing with different weaj^ns, was a subject of dispute 
 
 Just. Where will you meet i'the morning 1 
 
 Sir Gos. At some tavern near the water-side, 
 that's private. 
 
 Just. The Greyhound, the Greyhound in Black- 
 friars, an excellent rendezvous. 
 
 Lin. Content, the Greyhound by eight. 
 
 Just. And then you may whip forth, two first, 
 and two next, on a sudden, and take boat at 
 Bridewell-dock most privately. 
 
 Omnes. Be't so : a good place. 
 
 Just. I'll go make ready my rustical properties.* 
 Let me see : — scholar, hie you home, for your 
 child shall be sick within this half hour. [Exit. 
 
 Enter Birdlime. 
 
 Mist. Honey. 'Tis the uprightest-dealing man ! — 
 God's my pity, who's yonder] 
 
 Bird. I'm bold to press myself imder the 
 colours of your company, hearing that gentle- 
 woman was in the room. — [To Mist. Ten.] A 
 word, mistress. 
 
 Mist. Ten. How now ! what says he ? 
 
 Sir Gos. Zounds, what's she 1 a bawd, by the 
 Lord, is't not 1 
 
 Mist. Wafer. No, indeed, Sir Gosling; she's a 
 very honest woman and a midwife. 
 
 Mist. Ten. At the Lion in Shoreditch ? and 
 would he not read it? nor write to me? I'll poison 
 his supper. 
 
 Bird. But no words that I bewrayed him. 
 
 Mist. Ten. Gentlemen, I must be gone ; I 
 cannot stay, in faith : pardon me ; I '11 meet 
 to-morrow : — come, nurse : — cannot tany, by this 
 element. 
 
 Sir Gos. Mother, you, grannam, drink ere you 
 
 go- 
 
 Bird. I am going to a woman's labour; indeed, 
 sir, cannot stay. 
 
 [Exeunt Mistress Tenterhook and Birdlime. 
 
 Mist. Wafer. I hold my life,t the black-bird 
 her husband whistles for her. 
 
 between Messrs. Steevens and Malone : Douce has made 
 himself their umpire in his Illustrations of Shakespeare, 
 vol. i. p. 233, to which I refer the reader. In fencing, 
 venue, the French term, answered to the Italian stoccata : 
 see Gifford's note on Ben Jonson, vol. i. p. 39. I wonder 
 that Malone, in his contest with Steevens, failed to quote 
 the following passage of a play which he must surely 
 have read : — 
 " 1 Za2'-'. Women, look to't, the fencer gives you a veney. 
 
 2 Law. Believe it, he hits home." 
 
 Stcetnam, the Woman-hater, 1620, Sig. F 2. 
 
 * 2)roperties] Used here in a theatrical sense — articles 
 necessary for the scene. 
 
 t Mist. Wafer. I hold my life, &c.] The old ed. prefixes 
 to this speech "Amb.," which in early plays often stands 
 for "Both " : but here it would seem to be a mistake for 
 " Mab " ; see note on the Dramatis Persona of this play. 
 
224 
 
 WESTWABD HO. 
 
 ACT in. 
 
 all 
 
 Mut. Honey. Areckoniug! Break one, break MUt. Honey. Let him: 'mongst women thU 
 
 I does stand for law, 
 
 Sir Go: Here, Hans !— Draw not ; I'll draw for The worthiest man, though he be fool, must draw. 
 
 I [Ejtmnt. 
 
 all, as Im true knight 
 
 ACT 111. 
 
 SCENE I.' 
 Eitttr TiwTERnofiK ami Mibtrebb TENTnBHOOK. 
 
 Tm. \S'hat book is that, sweetheart ? 
 
 Afut. Ten. Why, the book of bonds that are 
 due to you. 
 
 Ten. Come, what do you with it? why do you 
 trouble yourself to take care about my business ? 
 
 Mitt. Ten. ^Vhy, sir, doth not that which con- 
 oems you concern me 1 You told me Monopoly 
 ha<l discharged his bond ; I 6nd by the book of 
 accounts here that it is not cancelled. Ere I 
 would suffer such a cheating companion to laugh 
 at me, I'd see him hanged, I. Good sweetheart, as 
 e»or you loved u»e, as ever my bed wius pleasing 
 to you, arrest the knave : wo wore never beholding 
 to him for a pin, but for eating up our victuals : 
 good mouse, enter an action against him. 
 
 Ten. In troth, love, I may do the gentleman 
 much discredit; an<l besides, it may bo other 
 actions may fall very heavy upon him. 
 
 Mut. Ten. Hang him I to see the dishonesty of 
 the kuave ! 
 
 TVn. wife, good words : a courtier, a gentle- 
 man. 
 
 Mut. Ten. Why may not a gentleman be a 
 knave I that were Mtrangc, in faith ; but, as I was 
 a Mylng, to see the disiionesty of him that would 
 M<!ver (ximo, iinco ho received the money, to visit 
 us I You know, Miutter Tenterhook, he hath hung 
 i long upon ycm : Miutter Tenterhook, as I am 
 virtiiouii, you ahnli arrest him. 
 
 Tm. Why, I know not when ho will come to 
 town. 
 
 Mt*i. Ten. He's In town ; this night he sups at 
 il'' I.iiin in Bhoratliteh: good husband, enter your 
 iu:t*uu, aitd make hosto tu the Lion preiiuntly. 
 TUwo'a an huniMit follow, Sergeant .\mbuHh, will 
 «r> it In a Irii'a; ho nover Hidut4>H a man in 
 ■ ''t<«y, tnilhaaatehcH him twif ho would arrest 
 htm k<mmI heart, lot .Srrgeant .\mbush lie in 
 wall fur him, 
 
 Tm. \\9\\, ai Ihy »nlre«ty I will do It.— [To 
 
 'I 
 
 A RMU) In Um liuua« of Tci>t«rlimik. 
 
 Servant within.] Give me my cloak, there ! Buy a 
 link, and meet me at the Counter in Wood-street. 
 — Buss me, Moll. 
 
 Miit. Ten. Why, now you love me : I'll go to 
 bed, sweetheart. 
 
 Ten. Do not sleep till I come, Moll. 
 
 Mist. Ten. No, lamb. [Exit Tkxterhook. 
 
 Baa, sheep ! If a woman will be free in this 
 intricate labyrinth of a husband, let her marry a 
 man of a meliincholy complexion ; she shall not 
 be much troubled with him. By my sooth, my 
 husband hath a hand as dry as his brains, and a 
 breath as strong as six common gardens. Well, 
 my husband is gone to arrest Monopoly : I have 
 dealt witli a sergeant privately, to entreat liim, 
 pretending that he is my aunt's son : by this 
 means shall I see my young gallant that in this 
 has played his part. When they owe money in \ 
 the city once, they deal with their lawyers by 
 attorney, follow the court, though the court do 
 them not the gi-ace to allow them their diet. 0, 
 the wit of a woman when she is put to the 
 pinch ! [Kcit. 
 
 SCENE II.* 
 JJiitrr TcsTF.RiiooK, Serdeant Ambusb, and Tbomas 
 
 CU'Tl'H. 
 
 Ten. Come, Sergeant Ambush, — come, Yeoman 
 Clutch : yon's the tavern ; the gentleman will 
 come out presently. Tho\i art resolute! 
 
 Amb. Who, II I carry fire and sword that fight 
 for me, hero and hero. I know most of tho 
 knaves about London, and most of tho thieves 
 too, I thank God and good intelligence. 
 
 Tat. I wontlor thou dost not turn broker, then. 
 
 Amb. I'how I I have been a broker already; for 
 I wiw fii-Ht a puritmi. then a bankrupt, then a 
 broker, then a fencer, and then sergeant : were 
 not those trades would make a man honest I— 
 Peace I tho door opos : whool about, Yoomaii 
 Clutch. ' '^ 
 
 • Bern* 11.] Tlio lanio. Doforo tlio T.lon In Shorcdit. h. 
 
SCENE II. 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 225 
 
 Enter Whirlpool, Linstock, and Monopoly, unbraced. 
 
 Mon. An e'er I come to sup in this tavern 
 again ! there's no more attendance than in a gaol : 
 an there had been a punk or two in the company, 
 then we should not have been rid of the drawers. 
 Now were I in an excellent humour to go to a 
 vaulting-house : I would break down all their 
 glass windows, hew in pieces all their joint- 
 stools, tear [their] silk petticoats, ruffle their 
 periwigs, and spoil their painting, — the gods, 
 what I could do ! I could undergo fifteen bawds, 
 by this darkness ; or if I could meet one of these 
 varlets that wear Pannier-alley on their backs," 
 sergeants, I would make them scud so fast from 
 me, that they should think it a shorter way 
 between this and Ludgate, than a condemned 
 cutpurse thinks it between Newgate and Tyburn. 
 Lin. You are for no action to-night 1 
 Whirl. No, I'll to bed. 
 
 Mon. Am not I drunk now ? Implentw veteris 
 Bacchi pinguisque tobacco.* 
 
 Whirl. Faith, we are all heated. 
 3fon. Captain Whirlpool, when wilt come to 
 court and dine with me ? 
 
 Whi7-l. One of these days, Frank ; but I'll get 
 me two gauntlets for fear I lose my fingers in the 
 dishes: there be excellent shavei's, I hear, in the 
 most of your under-offices. I protest I have 
 often come thither, sat down, drawn my knife, 
 and, ere I could say grace, all the meat hath been 
 gone : I have risen and departed thence as hungry 
 as ever came country attorney from Westminster. 
 Good night, honest Frank : do not swagger with 
 the watch, Frank. 
 
 [Exe^mt Whirlpool and Linstock. 
 Ten. So, now they are gone, you may take him. 
 Ami. Sir, I arrest you. 
 
 Mon. Arrest me ! at whose suit, you varlets 1 
 Clutch. At Master Tenterhook's. 
 Mon. Why, you varlets, dare you arrest one of 
 the court ? 
 
 Amb. Come, will you be quiet, sir? 
 Mon. Pray thee, good yeoman, call the gentle- 
 men back again. There's a gentleman hath 
 carried a hundred pound of mine home with 
 him to his lodging, because I dare not carry it 
 over the fields : I '11 discharge it presently. 
 
 Amb. That's a trick, sir ; you would procure a 
 rescue. 
 
 Mon. Catchpoll, do you see? I will have the 
 hair of your head and beard shaved off for this, 
 an e'er I catch you at Gray's Inn, by this light, la. 
 
 * Implentur, (fee] "Implentur veteris Bacchi pinguis- 
 que /ermce." Yirgil, JEneid, i. 215. 
 
 A nib. Come, will you march ? 
 Mon. Are you sergeants Christians'! Sirrah, 
 thou lookest like a good pitiful rascal, and thou 
 art a tall man too it seems; thou hast backed 
 many a man in thy time, I warrant. 
 
 Amb. I have had many a man by the back, sir. 
 Mon. Well said ! in troth, I love your quality : 
 'las, 'tis needful every man should come by his 
 own. But, as God mend me, gentlemen, I have 
 not one cross * about me, only you two. Might 
 not you let a gentleman pass out of your hands, 
 and say you saw him not? is there not such a 
 kind of mercy in you now and then, my masters ? 
 As I live, if you come to my lodging to-morrow 
 morning, I'll give you five brace of angels. Good 
 yeoman, persuade your graduate here : I know 
 some of you to be honest faithful drunkards : 
 respect a poor gentleman in my case. 
 
 Ten. Come, it will not serve your turn. — 
 Officers, look to him upon your pex'il. 
 
 Mon. Do you hear, su"? you see I am in the 
 hands of a couple of ravens here : as you are a 
 gentleman, lend me forty shillings : let me not 
 live, if I do not pay you the forfeiture of the 
 whole bond, and never plead conscience. 
 
 Ten. Not a penny, not a penny ; good night, sir. 
 
 [Exit. 
 Mon. Well, a man ought not to swear by 
 any thing, in the hands of sergeants, but by silver; 
 and because my pocket is no lawful justice to 
 minister any such oath unto me, I will patiently 
 encounter the Coimter. Which is the dearest 
 ward in prison, sergeant ? the Knight's ward ? 
 Amb. No, sir, the Master's side.f 
 Mon. Well the knight is above the master, 
 though his table be worse fm-nished : I'll go 
 thither. 
 
 Amb. Come, sir, I must use you kindly: the 
 
 gentleman's wife that hath arrested you 
 
 Mon. Ay, what of her ? 
 A mb. She says you are her aunt's son. 
 Mon. I am? 
 
 Amb. She takes on so pitifully for your arrest- 
 ing : 'twas much against her will, good gentle- 
 woman, that this affliction lighted upon you. 
 
 Mon. She hath reason, if she respect her poor 
 kindred. 
 
 Amb. You shall not go to prison. 
 
 Mon. Honest sergeant, conscionable officer, did 
 
 * / liave not one cross about me, only you two'\ This 
 quibbling on the word cross has occurred before : see 
 note t, P- 196. 
 
 f the Knifiht's tcard ? 
 
 Amb. No, sir, the blaster's sid^] See note {, p. 16S. 
 
 Q 
 
226 
 
 '\\'ESTWARD HO. 
 
 ACT 111. 
 
 I forget myself even now, a vice that sticks to me 
 always when I am druuk, to abuse my best 
 frieads? Where didst buy this buff? Let me not 
 live, but I'll give thee a good suit of durance.* 
 AVilt thou take my bond, sergeant! Where's a 
 scrivener, a scrivener, good yeoman ? you shall 
 have my sword and hangers + to pay him. 
 
 Amb. Not so, «ir; but you shall be prisoner in 
 my bouse : I do nut think but that your couiiin 
 will visit you there i'tho morning, and take order 
 for you, 
 
 Hon. Well sdd I Was't not a most treacherous 
 part to arre^:t a man in the night, and when he is 
 almost dnink ? when he hath not his wits about 
 him, to remember which of his friends is in the 
 BubNidy ' Come, did I abuse you, I recant : you 
 are aa noceisary in a city as tumblers in Norfolk, 
 sumucrs in Lancashire, or rakc-hells in an army. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SUKNE III.J 
 £«t<T JOBTlxiASo lil-f a eollirr, arul a Boy. 
 Just. Buy any small coal, buy any small coal ? § 
 liotf. Collier, collier! 
 Ju4t. What sayest, boy ? 
 B'ly. 'Ware the pillory ! 
 
 J»ut. O, boy, the pilloi-y assures many a man 
 that ho ii no cii'^kold : for how impossible were 
 
 • II Ut mt not live, but J II 
 
 gir* II I So, in Sliakeapoaro's 
 
 / -•' /"iirf ^) ((/o.cy H'., ml i. 8C. 2, tho Priuco sayM to 
 K.. ~;.i(T with a pun. "And is nut a &u/rjorkln a most 
 ■ ' ' ' ' * " - Duriinff was a strung; and 
 
 Ml IlitUiwcIl (.S/iiiJlr»/x«rr Sucifti) 
 . . from The Bool- o/ Ratm, ed. 
 
 jo.u, |.. ai,— £ ,. ,f. 
 
 " Duruuoa, or » wjth thred, tho yard 00 Ofl os 
 
 I>iirDtly. ) witli Nilk, tlie yunl ,. (lO 10 00." 
 I kamorrt\ I. o. WiiKfl unJ uriiamontO'l Umi|>b. ntliu'hod 
 to tho ffintlo, lu whKli tho gmuU iiword or du^tfor wm 
 ■Ua|«l>ilo«l :— ' 
 
 " Malta (wonl* In A/tnf?^r. Iiinj.'. nuit Jiy tholr ■Ido." 
 
 T»yli» I . t • Vert»t <y a JayU iin.l 
 
 "• til, n'urkt, liWO. |i. IXi. 
 
 : Ntr»t ill J TU *..... A »u«oi ; iHifore tho lioimo of 
 Wafer. 
 
 I n. , nnv * -.,rf rmtl, huji any tmall conl f] ThU wim tho 
 'on : M in ono of the imroai of jiluya, 
 
 ' KomM man, IIOA; 
 
 l<?oloii?" 8l(f. (1. 
 
 r> not« of Qlflurd. 
 
 ", wya tio, ••eathrrt, I know not for 
 
 ... Mr* g.ilpVly. nn.lrr (in itl Mwt." 
 
 I . M. ihoy woro 
 
 "••I urtNMly 
 
 U. 
 
 ;■ ■" ' ^ 
 
 Uy«a|«u aJI ll.^lr ku»<c|j. 
 
 it a man should thrust his head through so small 
 a loophole, if his forehead were branched, boy ! 
 
 BQy. Collier, how came the goose to be put 
 upon you, ha? 
 
 JuM. I'll tell thee. The term lying at Winches- 
 ter, in Henry the Third's days, and many French- 
 women coming out of the Lsle of Wiglit thither, 
 (as it hath always been seen, though the Isle of 
 Wight could not of long time neither endure 
 foxes nor lawyers, yet it could brook the more 
 dreadful cockatrice,*) there were many punks in 
 the town, as you kuow our term is their term. 
 Your farmer, that would spend but threepence 
 on his ordinary, would lavish half-a-crown on his 
 lechery ; and many men, calves as they were, 
 would ride in a farmer's foul boots before break- 
 fiist : the commonest sinner had more fluttering 
 about her than a fresh punk hath when she comes 
 to a town of garrison or to a university. Captains, 
 scholars, serviugmen, jurors, clerks, townsmen, and 
 the black guard, f used all to one ordinary, and 
 most of them were called to a pitiful reckoning ; 
 for, before two returns of Michaelmas, surgeons 
 were full of business ; the care of most, secrecy, 
 grew as common as lice in Ireland, or as scabs in 
 France. One of my tribe, a collier, carried in his 
 cart fort}' maimed soldiers to Salisbury, looking 
 as pitifully as Dutchmen fii-st made druuk, then 
 carried to beheading : every one that met him 
 cried " Ware the goose,* collier ! " and from that 
 day to this there's a record to bo seen at Croydon, 
 how that pitiful waftage, which indeed was virtue 
 in the collier, that all that time would carry no 
 coals, laid this imputation on all the posterity. 
 
 Boy. You ore full of tricks, collier. 
 
 J Oat. Roy, where dwells Master Wafer? 
 
 Boy. Wiiy, here : what wouldst ! I am one of 
 his juvenals. 
 
 Jiut. Hath ho not a child at nurse at More- 
 clacko?§ 
 
 Boy. Yes: dost thou dwell thei*e? 
 
 Jn»t. That I do : the child is woudmus siek ; 
 I was willed II to acquaint thy master and mistress 
 witli it. 
 
 Boy. I'll up and tell them presently. \Exit. 
 
 Juat. So, if all shouKl fail mo, I could turn 
 collier. tlio vilhmy of this age! how full of 
 secrecy and silence (contrary to the opinion of 
 the World) have I ever found most women ! I 
 
 • et>tk<\lr,n\ A cunt nitnio for n pniaUtuto. 
 
 ♦ Ihr Uacl ,iH4ir,t] Heo uoto ', p. 8. 
 
 J Ihr i/txnt] Boo iiuto i>n A Cure /or a 0(4jl<>/./, net iv. 
 ■t-. 1. 
 I Mitn.ftnckf] A ooniiiion comiption of Jt/orftoX'e. 
 Ii •riZ/n/j L 0. dualrod. 
 
SCEJTB IV. 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 227 
 
 bave sat a whole afternoou many times by my 
 wife, and looked upon her eyes, and felt if her 
 pulses have beat, when I have named a suspected 
 love; yet all this while have not drawn from 
 her the least scruple of confession. I have lain 
 awake a thousand nights, thinking she would have 
 revealed somewhat in her dreams, and when she 
 has begun to speak any thing in her sleep, I have 
 jogged her, and cried, "Ay, sweet-heart, but when 
 will your love come?" or "What did he say to 
 thee over the stall ?" or " What did he do to thee 
 in the garden-chamber ?" or " When will he send 
 to thee any letters 1" or " When wilt thou send to 
 him any money 1" What an idle coxcomb jealousy 
 will make a man! Well, this is my comfort, that 
 here comes a creature of the same head-piece. 
 
 j?/ift)- Wafer (fit'f Mistress 'Wafer, wU?i Boy. 
 
 Mist. Wafer. my sweet child! — Where's the 
 collier ? 
 
 Just. Here, forsooth. 
 
 Mist. Wafer [to Boy]. Run into Bucklersbury * 
 for two ounces of dragon-water, some spermaceti, 
 and treacle. — What is it sick of, collier? a burning 
 fever ? 
 
 Just. Faith, mistress, I do not know the 
 infirmity of it. — Will you buy any small coal, 
 Bay you ? 
 
 Wafer. Prithee, go in and empty them. — Come, 
 be not so impatient. 
 
 3Iist. Wafer. Ay, ay, ay, if you had gi'oaned for't 
 as I have done, you would have been more natural. 
 — [To Servant within] Take my riding-hat and my 
 kirtle, there I — I'll away presently. 
 
 Wafer. You will not go to-night, I am sure. 
 
 Mist. Wafer. As I live, but I will. 
 
 Wafer. Faith, sweetheart, I have great business 
 to-night : stay till to-morrow, and I'll go with you. 
 
 Mist. Wafer. No, sir, I will not hinder your 
 business. I see how little you respect the fruits 
 of your own body. I shall find somebody to 
 bear me company. 
 
 Wafer. Well, I will defer my business for once, 
 and go with thee. 
 
 3Iist. Wafer. By this light, but you shall not ; 
 you shall not hit me i'the teeth that I was your 
 hindrance. — Will you to Bucklersbury, sir ? 
 
 [Exit Boy. 
 
 Wafer. Come, you are a fool; leave your 
 weeping. 
 
 Mist. Wafer. Tou shall not go with me, as I 
 live. [Exit Wafer. 
 
 * Suckkrsbury] See note *, p. 213. 
 
 Just. Pupil ! 
 
 3Iist. Wafer. Excellent master ! 
 
 Just. Admirable mistress ! How happy be our 
 Englishwomen that are not troubled with jealous 
 husbands ! Why, your Italians, in general, are 
 so sun-burnt with these dog-days, that your great 
 lady there thinks her husband loves her not, if 
 he be not jealous : what confirms the liberty of 
 our women more in England than the Italian 
 proverb which saj*s, — If there were a bridge over 
 the narrow seas, all the women in Italy would 
 show their husbands a million of light pair of 
 heels, and fly over into England ? 
 
 3fist. Wafer. The time of our meeting ? come. 
 
 Just. Seven. 
 
 31ist. Wafer. The place ? 
 
 Just. In Blackfriars : there take water, keep ^ 
 aloof from the shore, on with your masks, up with 
 your sails, and. Westward ho ! 
 
 3Iist. Wafer. So. [Exit. 
 
 Just. the quick apprehension of women ! 
 they'll grope out a man's meaning presently. 
 Well, it rests now that I discover myself in my 
 true shape to these gentlewomen's husbands ; for 
 though I have played the fool a little, to beguile 
 the memory of mine own misfortune, I would not 
 play thaknave, though I be taken for a bankrupt : 
 but, indeed, as in other things, so in that, the 
 world is much deceived in me ; for I have yet three 
 thousand pounds in the hands of a suflficient friend, 
 and all my debts discharged. I have received here a 
 letter from my wife, directed to Stode,* wherein 
 she most repentently entreateth my return, with 
 protestation to give me assured trial of her 
 honesty : I cannot tell what to think of it, but I 
 will put it to the test. There is a great strife 
 between beauty and chastity; and that which 
 pleaseth many is never free from temptation. 
 As for jealousy, it makes many cuckolds, many 
 fools, and many bankrupts ; it may have abused 
 me, and not my wife's honesty : I '11 try it : — but 
 first to my secure and doting companion[s]. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE IV.+ 
 Snter Mosopolt and Mlstress Tenterhook. 
 Mon. I beseech you. Mistress Tenterhook, — 
 before God, I'll be sick, if you will not be merry. 
 3fist, Ten. You are a sweet beagle. 
 3{on. Come, because I kept from town a little. 
 
 * Stode] See note *, p. 21-J. 
 
 t Scene JV.'] Thesame. A room in the house of Ambush. 
 
 Q 2 
 
228 
 
 \NT:S'nVARD HO. 
 
 — let me not live, if I did not hear the sickness 
 was in town very hot In troth, thy hair is of on 
 excellent colour since I saw it : those bright 
 tresses, like to threads of gold ! • 
 
 3fM. Ten. Lie and ashes suffer much in the 
 city for that comparison. 
 
 Man. Hero 's an honest gentleman will be here 
 by and by was born at Fulham ; his name is 
 Gosling Glowworm. 
 
 Misl. Ten. I know him [not] : what is he ? 
 
 Hon. He is a knight. What ailed your husband 
 to be Ko luwty to arrest me ? 
 
 Mi4t. Ten. Shall I si)eak truly ? shall I speak 
 not like a woman! 
 
 .Voji. Why nut like a woman? 
 
 Mtst. Ten. Because women's tongues are like to 
 clocks ; if they go too fast, they never go true : 
 'twas I that got my husband to arrest thee, I 
 have. 
 
 3fon. I am behoMing to you. 
 
 Mitt. Ten. Forsooth, I could not come to the 
 BI>oech of you : I think you may be spoken withal 
 now. 
 
 Mon. I thank you : I hope you'll bail me, 
 cousin ] 
 
 AfUt. Ten. And yet why should I speak with 
 you 1 I protest I love my husband. 
 
 J/un. Tush, let not any young woman love a 
 man in years too well. 
 
 JUist. Ten. Why ? 
 
 Man. Because he'll die before he can requite 
 it. 
 
 MUl. Ten. I have acquainted Wafer and Honey- 
 suckle with it, and they allow t my wit for 't 
 extr.-"'"!y 
 
 Eiiirr Amiidhii. 
 Ipiiieii 1-iTgi-ant ! 
 
 Amb. Wt'lcoujo, good MistroHS Tenterhook. 
 
 ilitt. Ten. St'rmjiuit, I must needs have my 
 cousin go a liltlo way out of town with me, and 
 to Mcuru tlioo, hero are two diamonds ; tiiey are 
 worth two hundred pound ; keep them till I 
 return him. 
 
 Amb. Well, 'tis good security. 
 ilui. Ten. Do nut come in my husband's sight 
 la tlio moui Uui«. 
 
 Mtitf WuiujmM, Win Ooatnm Ouiwwium, I.ivhtikk, 
 M-K, <•»"' MiirriitMt WAriii. 
 ■ llauU. 
 ■■i^^ ! Moiio|>oly arrMto<l I 
 
 ' '— I.I' l„ thruuU nf ^l,l/\ »«mU 
 >ve Marvkod Mvoral imoiiiH 
 
 .4 m'. 
 
 ifon. my little Honeysuckle, art come to 
 visit a prisoner! 
 
 MUt. Jloney. Yes, faith, as gentlemen visit 
 merchants, to fare well, or as poets young quaint 
 revellers, to laugh at them. — Sirrah,* if I were 
 some foolish justice, if I would not beg thy wit, 
 never trust me. 
 
 Mist. Ten. "VMiy, I pray you ? 
 
 MUt. Honey. Because it hath been concealed all 
 this while. But, come, shall we to boat? we are 
 furnished for attendants as ladies are ; we have 
 our fools and our ushere. 
 
 Sir Go$. I thank you, madam ; I shall meet 
 your wit in the close one day. 
 
 M'ut. Wafer. Sirrah, thou knowest my husband 
 keeps a kennel of bounds? 
 
 Mist. Honey. Yes. ' 
 
 Whirl. Doth thy husband love venery? 
 
 Mist. Wafer. Venery ! 
 
 Whirl. Ay, hunting and venery are words of 
 one signification. 
 
 Mist. Wafer. Your two husbands t and he 
 have made a match to go find a hare about 
 Busty Causy.lJ: 
 
 Mist. Ten. They'll keep an excellent house till 
 we come home again. 
 
 Mist. Honey. 0, excellent ! a Spanish dinner, — 
 a pilcher, and a Dutch supper, — butter and 
 onions. 
 
 Lin. 0, thou art a mad wench ! 
 
 Mist. Ten. Sergeant, carry this ell of cambric 
 to Mistress Birdlime : tell her, but that it is a 
 rough tide and that she fears the water, she 
 should have gone with us. 
 
 Sir Gos. O, thou hast an excellent wit ! 
 
 Whirl. To boat, hey I 
 
 Mist. Honey. Sir Gosling, I do Uikc it your leg> 
 are nmrried. 
 
 Sir Gos. Why, mistress? 
 
 Mist. Honey. Thoy look 80 thin upon it. 
 
 Sir Gos. Kvor since I measured with your 
 husband, I hnvc shrunk in the calf 
 
 Mist. Huney. And yet you have a sweet tooth 
 in your head. 
 
 Sir Got. 0, well dealt for the calf's head ! You 
 may talk what you will of legs, and rising in tlio 
 small, and swelling beneath the garter; but 'tis 
 certjiin, when lank thighs brought long stockings 
 out of rasliion, the courtier's leg and his nlondiT 
 tilting.8t4iir grew both of a bigness. — Conic, for 
 Itrniuford! [K.rrunt. 
 
 • Nirr.iA] 8oo nolo ', p. 214. 
 
 I hutb>in>U\ TlicoldoiJ. "kuiiHtmd." 
 
 \ U\ut]f Oiiuy] (Jy. " AtuAy Causy "T 
 
SCENE I. 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 229 
 
 ACT ly. 
 
 SCENE I.* 
 Enter Mistress Birdlime and Luce. 
 
 Bird. Good morrow, Mistress Luce : how did 
 you take your rest to-uiglit? how doth your good 
 worship like your lodging'? what will you have 
 to breakfast '] 
 
 Luce. A pox of the knight that was here last 
 night ! he promised to have sent me some wild- 
 fowl : he was drunk, I'll be stewed else. 
 
 Bird. Why, do not you think he will send 
 them? 
 
 Luce. Hang them, 'tis no more in fashion for^ 
 them to keep their promises, than 'tis for men to 
 pay their debts : he will lie faster than a dog 
 trots. What a filthy knocking was at door last 
 night ! some puny Inn-o'-court-men, I'll hold my 
 contribution. 
 
 Bird. Yes, in troth, were they, civil gentlemen 
 without beards : but to say the truth, I did take 
 exceptions at their knocking, took them aside, 
 and said to them, " Gentlemen, this is not well, 
 that you should come in this habit, cloaks and 
 rapiers, boots and spurs : I protest to you, those 
 that be your ancients in the house would have 
 come to my house in their caps and gowns, 
 civilly and modestly. I promise you, they 
 might have been taken for citizens, but that they "' 
 talk more liker fools." [Knoching within.] — Who 
 
 knocks there 1 —Up into your chamber. 
 
 [Exit Luce, v 
 
 Snter Honeysuckle. 
 Who are you ? some man of credit, that you come 
 in muffled thus ? 
 
 Honey. Who's above 1 
 
 Bird. Let me see your face first. 0, Master 
 Honeysuckle ! Why, the old party, the old party. 
 
 Honey. Phew, I will not go up to her. Nobody 
 else? 
 
 Bird. As I live. Will you give me some sack ? 
 ■ — Where's Opportunity ] 
 
 Enter Christian. 
 
 Honey. What dost call her? 
 
 Bird. Her name is Christian ; but Mistress 
 Luce cannot abide that name, and so she calls 
 her Opportunity. 
 
 Honey. Very good, good. [^Oives money. 
 
 * Scene /.] London. A room in the house of Mistress 
 Birdlime. 
 
 Bird. Is't a shilling? bring the rest in aqua- 
 vitse. {Exit Christian. 
 
 Come, shall's go to noddy ? * 
 
 Honey. Ay, an thou wilt, for half-an-hour. 
 
 Bird. Here ai-e the cards : deal. [They "play.] 
 God send me deuces and aces with a court-card, 
 and I shall get by it. 
 
 Honey. That can make thee nothing. 
 
 Bird. Yea, if I have a coat-card turn up. 
 
 Honey. I show four games. 
 
 Bird. By my troth, I must show all and little 
 enough too, six games : play your single game, I 
 shall double with you anon. Pray you, lend me 
 some silver to count my games. 
 
 Re-enter Christian with sack. 
 How now, is it good sack ? 
 
 Chris. There's a gentleman at door would 
 speak with you. 
 
 Honey. God's so, I will not be seen by any 
 means. 
 
 Bird. Into that closet, then. 
 
 [Exit Honeysuckle. 
 
 What, another muffler ] 
 
 Enter Tenterhook. 
 Ten. How dost thou. Mistress Birdlime 1 
 Bird. Master Tenterhook ! The party is above 
 in the dining-chamber. 
 Ten. Above ! 
 Bird. All alone. [Exit Tenterhook. 
 
 Re-enter Honeysuckle. 
 
 Honey. Is he gone up ? who was't, I pray thee ? 
 
 Bird. By this sack, I will not tell you : say that 
 you were a country gentleman, or a citizen that 
 hath a young wife, or an Inn-of-Chancery-man, 
 should I tell you 1 pardon me. This sack tastes 
 of horse-flesh : f I warrant you the leg of a dead 
 horse hangs in the butt of sack to keep it quick. 
 
 * noddtj] A game on the cards, which appears, from 
 passages in our old writers, to have been played in more 
 ways than one. 
 
 t This sack tastes of horse-fesh, &c.] So Glapthorne ; 
 "This ooller spoyles my drinking, or else i/tis sack has 
 horse-flesh in't, it rides upon my stomacke." 
 
 The Hollander, 1640, Sig. H 2. 
 
 The statute 12 Car. ii. c. 25, sect. 11, which forbids the 
 adulteration of wines, mentions, among other ingredients 
 used for that purpose, " uor any sort of jJcs/t whatsoever." 
 
230 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 Honey. I beseech thoo, good iliatrcas Birdlime, 
 tell me who it was. 
 
 Bird. God, sir, wo urc Hworu to secrecy as 
 well aa eurgeoiw. Come, driuk to me, and let's 
 to our game. 
 
 EnttT Tl.Nw . ' 
 
 Ten. Who am 1 ? 
 
 Lhcc You? -pray y". udLHikI me :— < aia:uii 
 Whirlpool? uo; Ma-stcr Linntock ?— pray.unbliud 
 ma : — you arc not Sir GoBling Glowworm, for he 
 wears no rings of his fingers:— lliister Freezc- 
 lenthcr f — O. you are George the drawer at the 
 Milre:— pray you, unbliud me :— Captain Puck- 
 foi«t ?— Muster Counterpane the lawyer? — What 
 ttie devil mean you? beahrew your heart, you 
 httvo a very dry baud : — are you not mine host 
 Dog-bolt of Bniinford ?— Mistress Bii-dlime? — 
 Makter Honeysuckle? — Master Wafer? 
 
 Tm. Wliat, the last of all your clients ! 
 
 Lu/:e. 0, how dost thou, good cousin ? 
 
 Ten. Ay, you have many cousins. 
 
 Luce. Fuitli, I can name many that I do not 
 know : and suppose I did know them, what then \ 
 I will Huii'er one to keep mo in diet, another in 
 ap|>arel, another in physic, another to pay my 
 house rent. I am just of the nature of alchemy ; 
 I will suffer every plodding fool to spend money 
 UjKJu nic; marry, none but some wortiiy friend 
 to enjoy my more retired and useful faithfulness. 
 
 Ten. Vour lov<», your love. 
 
 L»e€. O, ay, 'tis the curse that is laid upon our 
 qu&lity ; what wc glean from utiiers we lavish 
 ui»on some trotldeiu* well faced younger brothor, 
 that lovvM us only for maintfiianco. 
 
 Ten Ilaat a good term, Lucu ? 
 
 LtLC*. A |tox on thu term ! and now I think 
 on 't, Mya a gentleman last night, lot the pox be 
 in the town seven year, WeMtminhtcr never 
 brools wibwt'bs, and yet 'lis as catching iw the 
 pla^^iia, llioiigh not all HO goneral. There bo a 
 tliouaand bragging Jaoks in liondou, that will 
 prutMt ihoy con wraat comfort from mo, when, 
 1 swtMir, not one of thcin know whuthor my palm 
 \m luulst or not In trotli, I lovo tliee : you 
 prmiUotl m« aoven olU of cambric. ( Knocking 
 Wilkin.] Who'* that kncHks r 
 
 ^1 ■ inorw sacks to the mill! I'll to 
 
 «"> "t. [A'riV, 
 
 i; r,r Wahiv. 
 /'•rO. How duUt your |Jo,mI Worship 1—(^tid«) 
 
 Passion of my heart, what shift shall I make ? — 
 How hath your good worship done a long time? 
 
 Waftr. Very well, Godamercy. 
 
 Bird. Your good worship, I think, be riding out 
 of town. 
 
 Wafer. Yes, believe me, I love to be once a 
 week a-horseback, for methinks nothing sets a 
 man out better than a horse. 
 
 Bird. 'Tis certain nothing sets a woman out 
 better than a man. 
 
 Wafer. UTiat, is Mistress Luce above ? 
 
 Bird. Yc3, truly. 
 
 Wafer. Not any company with her? 
 
 Bird. Company I shall I say to your good 
 worship and not lie, she hath had no company, — 
 let me see how long it was since your worship 
 was here; you went to a butcher's feast at 
 Cuckold's-haven* the next day after Saint Luke's 
 day, — not this fortnight, in good truth. 
 
 Wafer. Alas, good soul ! 
 
 Bird. And why was it ? go to, go to, I think 
 you know better than L The wench asketh 
 every day, when will Master Wafer be here ? and 
 if knights ask for her, she cries out at stairhead, 
 " As you love my life, let 'em not come up : I 11 
 do myself violence, if they enter." Have not you 
 promised her somewhat ! 
 
 Wafer. Faith, I think she loves me. 
 
 Bird. Loves ! well, would you kuew what I 
 know ! then you would say somewhat. In good 
 faith, she's very poor : all her gowns are at pawn ; 
 she owes me five pound for her diet, besides forty 
 shillings I lent her to redeem two half silk kirtUs 
 from the broker's: and do you think she needed 
 bo in debt thus, if she thought not of somebody \ 
 
 Wafer. Good, honest wench. 
 
 Bird. Nay, in troth, she's now entering into 
 bond for Jive pounds more; the scrivener is but 
 now gone up to take her bond. 
 
 Wafer. Come, let her not cuter into bond : 
 I'll lend her five pound ; I'll jwy the rest of lur 
 debts : call down the scrivener. 
 
 Bird. I pray you, when ho comes down, stanil 
 nmlllud, and I'll toll him you are her brother. 
 
 Wafer. If a nuui luive a good hone.st wonch thiit 
 
 lives wholly to his use, lot him not see her want. 
 
 (/uif Mi><rar.M IIiium.imk, omi then nitrr o6<mv. 
 
 Bird. O Mistress Luce, Mistress Luce, you aro 
 tlu« moHt unfortunate genllewoman that ever 
 brt'athod ! Your young wild brother came lU'wl y 
 out of tho country : he calls mo bawd, swears I 
 keep K bnwdy-houRo, mys bia sister is turned 
 
 0. il, p. sod. 
 
 Sou iidto ou Sfurtlitear\l Ho, act Hi. 
 
WESTWARD HO. 
 
 231 
 
 ■whore, and that he will kill and slay any man 
 that he finds in her company. 
 
 len. What conveyance will you make with me, 
 Mistress Birdlime ] 
 
 Luce. God, let him not come up ! 'tis the 
 Bwaggeringest wild-oats. 
 
 Bird. I have pacified him somewhat, for I 
 told him that you were a scrivener come to take 
 a band * of her : now, as you go forth, say, " she 
 might have had so much money if she had 
 pleased," and say, "she is an honest gentlewoman," 
 and all vAW be well. 
 
 Ten. Enough. — Farewell, good Luce. 
 
 Bird. Come, change your voice, and muflfleyou. 
 [Exeunt, above. Birdlime and Tenterhook. 
 
 Luce. What trick should this be ? I have never 
 a brother. I'll hold my life, some franker cus- 
 tomer is come, that she slides him off so 
 smoothly. 
 
 Re-enUr, below. Tenterhook and Birdlime. 
 
 Ten. The gentlewoman is an honest gentle- 
 woman as any is in London, and should have had 
 thrice as much money upon her single bond, for 
 the good report I hear of her. 
 
 Wafei: No, sir, her friends can furnish her 
 with money. 
 
 Ten. By this light, I should know that voice. 
 Wafer! Od's-foot, are you the gentlewoman's 
 brother ? 
 
 Wafer. Are you turned a scrivener. Tenter- 
 hook? 
 
 Bird, [aside] I am spoiled. 
 
 Wafer. Tricks of Mistress Birdlime, by this 
 light. 
 
 Re-enter HoNErsucKLE. 
 
 Honey. Hoick, covert ! hoick, covert ! why, gen- 
 tlemen, is this your hunting ? 
 
 Ten. A consort ! What make you here, Honey- 
 suckle 1 
 
 Honey. Nay, what make you two here? — 
 excellent Mistress Birdlime ! thou hast more 
 tricks in thee than a punk hath uncles, cousins, 
 brothers, sons, or fathers, — an infinite company. 
 
 Bird. If I did it not to make your good wor- 
 ships merry, never believe me. I will di-ink to 
 your worship[s] a glass of sack. 
 
 Enter Justlniaxo. 
 Just. God save you ! 
 
 Honey., Wafer. Master Justiniano ! welcome 
 from Stode !f 
 
 * ho'iat] i. e. bond. 
 
 t Stode'] See note •, p. 212. 
 
 Just. Why, gentlemen, I never came there. 
 
 Ten. Never there ! where have you been, 
 then? 
 
 Just. Marry, your daily guest, I thank you. 
 
 Ten.,' Honey., Wafer. Ours ! 
 
 Just. Ay, yours. I was the pedant that learned 
 your wives to write: I was the colher that 
 brought you news your child was sick : but the 
 truth is, for aught I know, the child is in health, 
 and your wives are gone to make meny at 
 Brainford. 
 
 Wafer. By my troth, good wenches, they little 
 dream where we are now. 
 
 Just. You little dream what gallants are with 
 them. 
 
 Ten. Gallants with them ! I'd laugh at that. 
 
 Just. Four gallants, by this light ; Master 
 Monopoly is one of them. 
 
 Ten. Monopoly ! I'd laugh at that, in faith. 
 
 Just. Would you laugh at that? why, do ye 
 laugh at it, then. They are there by this time. 
 I cannot stay to give you more particular intelli- 
 gence : I have received a letter from my wife 
 here. If you will call me at Putney, I'll bear 
 you company. 
 
 Ten. Od's-foot, what a rogue is Sergeant Am- 
 bush ! I'll undo him, by this light. 
 
 Just. I met Sergeant Ambush, and wUled* him 
 come to this house to you presently. So, gen- 
 tlemen, I leave you. — Bawd, I have nothing to 
 say to you now. — Do not think too much in so 
 dangerous a matter ; for in women's matters 'tis 
 more dangerous to stand long deliberating than 
 before a battle. [Exit. 
 
 Wafer. This fellow's poverty hath made him 
 an arrant knave. 
 
 Bird. Will your worship drink any aqua-vitse ? 
 
 Ten. A pox on your aqua-vita3 ! — Monopoly, 
 that my wife urged me to arrest, gone to 
 Brainford ! — Here comes the varlet. 
 
 Enter Ambush. 
 Amh. I am come, sir, to know your pleasure. 
 Ten. 'Wha.t, hath Monopoly paid the money 
 
 yet? 
 
 Amh. No, sir, but he sent for money. 
 Ten. You have not carried him to the Counter? 
 he is at your house still ? 
 
 Amh. Lord, ay, sir, as melancholic, &c.+ 
 
 * willed] i. e. desired. 
 
 t as meloMcholic, &c.] Was the performer to conclude 
 this speech with any simile that he thought proper? 
 Our old dramatists sometimes trusted to the player's 
 powers of extemporizing : so Greene ; 
 " Faire Polyxeua, the pride of Ilion, 
 
2B2 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 ACT rv. 
 
 Ten. You lie like an arraut varlct. By this 
 candle, I laugh at the jest 
 
 Bird. [atiJe] Aud yet he'a ready to cry. 
 
 Ten. He's gone with my wife to Uraiuford : 
 an there bo any law in Eugluid, I'll tickle ye for 
 this. 
 
 Amb. Do your wor.»t, for I liavo good pccurity, 
 and 1 care not ; beaiJcii, it was hia cousin your 
 wife's iiloa^uro that he should go along with 
 bor. 
 
 7te». Hoy-<lay, lier cousiu ! Well, sir, your 
 aecuriiy ? 
 
 Amb. Why, sir, two diamonds here. 
 
 Ten. [(uitU] my heart ! my wife's two dia- 
 monds ! — Well, you'll go along and justify this? 
 
 Amb. That I will, sir. 
 
 Enter Llxk, Inlaw. 
 Luce. Who am I ? 
 
 Ten. What tlie murrain care I who you are? 
 hold off your fingers, or I'll cut them with these 
 diamoud[ii]. 
 
 Luce. I'll see 'cm, i'faith. So, I'll keep these 
 diamouds till I have my silk gown and six ells of 
 caiobrio. 
 
 Ten. Hy this light, you shall not. 
 
 Luce. No ? what, do you think you have fops 
 in hand 1 sue me for them. 
 
 Wafer, Honey. As you respect your credit, 
 let's go. 
 
 TV". Qoo<l Luce, as you love mo, let me have 
 tl»cm ; it standB upon my credit : thou shalt have 
 iiuy thiu^ ; take my pime. 
 
 Luce. I will not bo tTossod in my humour, sir. 
 
 Ten. Vou are a damned filthy puuk. — What 
 an uufurtuuato rogue was I, that ever I came 
 iiitu Uiis houM ! 
 
 lUrd, iJo not tfjiurn any body in my house, 
 yuu wura bwt. 
 
 Ten Well, wi-ll. 
 
 (AVcM.if TistiitiiiHiK, Waciu. IIonkysdikij:, ami 
 
 AMIit'kll. 
 
 ilird. Eioillcut Luco ! the getting of tlicao 
 two duuionda may ihauco to save the gentle- 
 woijjoii"* crwlit. Thou hcardost ull \ 
 
 Luce O, ay, uu\. by my troth, pity tlu-ni : what 
 a fillliy kiinvn WM tiiat botrayo*! them ! 
 
 lUa' ovwiDMldlng boy ; 
 
 ' .to. 
 
 . ■iinoroal thou tliU old trut 
 
 aimI ii«r« 
 ..J , 
 
 I. n'urlt, 1. 43, od Dywi. 
 vor llio 11111(0, iimiiittff 
 rtht«.,mL lOIP. «l, V 
 
 Bird. One that put me into pitiful fear : Miister 
 Juatiuiano here hath layed lurking, like a shoep- 
 biter, and, in my knowledge, hath drawn t': 
 gentlewomen to this misfortune. But I'll dc.u 
 to Queenhive ;* and the watermen, which were 
 wont to carry you to Lambeth-Marsh,^ shall 
 carry mo thither. It may bo I may come before 
 them. I think I shall pray more, what for fear 
 of the water, aud for my good success, than I 
 did this twelvemonth. [E.i:cunt. 
 
 SCENE U.t 
 Enter the Earl (;n</ three Servingmcn. 
 
 Earl. Have you perfum'd this chamber ! 
 
 Omnes. Yes, my lord. 
 
 Earl. The banquet ? 
 
 Oinnes. It stands ready. 
 
 Earl. Go, let music 
 Charm with her excellent voice an awful silcuco 
 Through all this building, that her sphery soul 
 May, on the wings of air, in thousand forms 
 Invisibly dy, yet be enjoy'd. Away ! 
 
 First Serv. Does my lord mean to conjure, that 
 he draws these strange chai-acters ! 
 
 Sec. Se)-v. He docs ; but we shall see neither 
 the spirit that rises, nor the circle it rises in. 
 
 Third .'^rv. 'Twould make oxir hair stand up 
 an end, if we should. Come, fools, come ; 
 meddle not with his matters : lords may do any ^ 
 thing. [Eureunt Servingmon. 
 
 Earl. This night shall my desii-es bo amply 
 crown'd, 
 And all those powers that taste of man in us 
 Shall now aspire that point of happiness. 
 Beyond which sensual eyes ne'er look, — sweet 
 
 pleasure, 
 Delicious pleasure, earth's suprcmest good, 
 The spring of blooil, though it dry up our blood. 
 Uob mo of that, — though to bo drunk with 
 
 pleasure, 
 As nmk oxco.'is oven in best things is hiul, 
 Turns man into a bei\8t, — yet that being gone, 
 A horse, and this, the goodliest shape, all one. 
 Wo feed, wear rich attires, and strive to oleavo 
 The stai-a with miu-blo towers, fight battles, 
 
 B|icnd 
 Our blood to buy us names, aud, in in>n hold. 
 
 • QiumMiM] I. e. Quooulittbe. 
 
 t h»»lHttf.\tariJ,] A noted huimt of prontllutcs luiil 
 ■Imriwrii. 
 
 '' I I'I'OMiiio. A room iuthohousoof thoISiU'l. 
 
SCENE II. 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 233 
 
 Will we eat roots, to imprison fugitive gold : 
 But to do thus, what spell can us excite ] 
 This, the strong magic of our appetite; 
 To feast which' richly, life itself undoes. 
 Who'd not die thus 1 to see, and then to choose. 
 Why, even those that starve in voluntary wants, 
 And, to advance the mind, keep the flesh poor. 
 The world enjoying them, they not the world. 
 Would they do this, but that they are proud to 
 
 suck 
 A sweetness from such sourness 1 Let 'em so : 
 The toiTent of my appetite shall flow 
 With happier stream. A woman ! 0, the spirit 
 And extract of creation ! This, this night. 
 The sun shall envy. What cold checks our 
 
 blood 1 
 Her body is the chariot of my soul. 
 Her eyes my body's light, which if I want. 
 Life wants, or if possess, I undo her, 
 Turn her into a devil, whom I adore. 
 By scorching her with the hot steam of lust. 
 'Tis but a minute's pleasure, and the sin 
 Scarce acted is repented : shun it, than:* 
 0, he that can abstain is more than man ! 
 Tush ! Resolv'st thou to do ill, be not precise : 
 Who write of virtue best, are slaves to vice. 
 
 [Mus'tc. 
 The music sounds alarum to my blood : 
 What's bad I follow, yet I see what's good.t 
 
 [ WhilM the song is heard, the Earl draws a curtain, 
 and sets forth a banquet. He then exit, and re- 
 enters presently with JvsTtsiAtio, attired like his 
 wife, masked; leads himtotlie table, places him 
 in a chair, and in durab signs courts him till the 
 song be done. 
 
 Fair, be not doubly mask'd with that and 
 
 night : 
 Beauty, like gold, being us'd becomes more bright. 
 Just, [taking off his masJc]. Will it please your 
 lordship to sit ? I shall receive small pleasure, 
 if I see your lordship stand. 
 
 JSai-l. Witch ! hag ! what art thou, proud dam- 
 nation ? 
 Just. A merchant's wife. 
 Earl. Fmy, who rais'd thee up ? what com'st 
 
 thou for ] 
 Just. For a banquet. 
 
 Harl. I am abus'd, deluded. — Speak, what art 
 thou ? 
 Ud's death, speak, or I'll kill thee. In that habit 
 I look'd to find an angel, but thy face 
 Shows thou'rt a devil. 
 
 * than^ A form of then, common in old poets, 
 t What's bad, <fec.J " video meliora proboque, deterioiti 
 sequor." Ovid, Met. vii. 20. 
 
 Just. My face is as God made it, my lord : I 
 am no devil, unless women be devils ; but men 
 find 'em not so, for they daily hunt for them. 
 
 Harl. What art thou that dost cozen me thus ? 
 
 Just. A merchant's wife, I say, Justiniauo's 
 wife ; she whom that long birding-piece of yours, 
 I mean that wicked Mother Birdlime, caught for 
 your honour. Why, my lord, has your lordship 
 forgot how ye courted me last morniug ? 
 
 Farl. The devil, I did ! 
 
 Just. Kissed me last morning. 
 
 Earl. Succubus, not thee. 
 
 Just. Gave me this jewel last morning. 
 
 Eai'l. Not to thee, harpy. 
 
 Just. To me, upon mine honesty; swore you 
 would build me a lodging by the Thames side 
 with a water-gate to it, or else take me a lodging 
 in Cole-harbour.* 
 
 Ea7-l. I swore so ? 
 
 Just. Or keep me in a labyrinth, as Harry kept 
 Rosamond, where the Minotaur, my husband, 
 should not enter. 
 
 Earl. I sware so, but, gipsey, not to thee. 
 
 Just. To me, upon my honour : hard was the 
 siege which you laid to the crystal walls of my 
 chastity, but I held out you know ; but because 
 I cannot be too stony-hearted, I yielded, my 
 lord, by this token, my lord, (which token lies at 
 my heart like lead,) but by this token, my lord, 
 that this night you should commit that sin which 
 we all know with me. 
 
 Earl. Thee! 
 
 Just. Do I look ugly, that you put "thee" upon 
 me 1 did I give you my hand to horn my head, 
 that's to say my husband, and is it come to 
 "thee'"? is my face a filthier face, now it is yours, 
 than when it was his 1 or have I two faces under 
 one hood 1 I confess I have laid mine eyes in 
 brine, and that may change the copy : but, my 
 lord, I know what I am. 
 
 Earl. A sorceress : thou shalt witch mine ears 
 no more ; 
 If thou canst pray, do't quickly, for thou diest. 
 
 Just. I can pray, 'out I will not die, — thou liest. 
 My lord, there drops your lady ; and now know, 
 
 * Cole-harhour'] Or Coal-harbour — a corruption of Cold- 
 harbour, or Coldharborough, was an old building in 
 Dowgate Ward. Stow (Survey, p. 18S, ed. 1598,) tells 
 us, " The last deceased Earle [of Shrewsbury] tooke it 
 down, and in place thereof builded a great number of 
 small tenements, now lotten out for great rents to 
 people of all sorts." — Debtors and persons not of the 
 most respectable character used to take refuge there. 
 Middletou calls it "the devil's sanctuary." A Trick to 
 catch the old one, — Works, ii. 55, ed. Dyce. 
 
234 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Thou unseoBonable lecher, I am her husband. 
 Whom thou wouldst make whore, liead; she 
 Bpoaks there thuH : 
 
 [MurriUMB JostisiaSo u <tnror<rfl, lying a* i/dtad*. 
 
 UnleM I came to her, her baud nhould free 
 
 Her chastity from blcmiah : proud I waa 
 
 Of her bravo mind ; I came, and seeing what 
 
 •hivcry, 
 Poverty, and the frailty of hor sex. 
 Had, and was like to make her subject to, 
 I begg'd that she would die; my suit wa« granted; 
 I poison'd her ; thy lust there strikes her dead : 
 Uorua fear'd plague worse than sticking on the 
 head. 
 Earl. O Ood, thou hast undone thyself and me ! 
 None live to matcli this piece : thou art too 
 
 bloody : 
 Yet for her sake, whom I'll embalm with tears, 
 This act with her I bury ; and to quit 
 Thy lo«8 of such a jewel, thou shalt share 
 My living with me : come, embrace. 
 Jutt. My lord ! 
 
 Earl. Villain, damn'd merciless slave, I'll 
 torture thee 
 To every inch of flesh. — ^^^lat, ho ! help ! who's 
 
 there ? 
 Come hither ! here's a murderer, bind him ! — 
 
 How now ! 
 What nuisc is this 1 
 
 H< cntfT the Soriinguien. 
 P%rtt Scrv. My lonl, there are three citizens 
 CtM me down that here's one Master Ptu'entheuis, 
 a fechoohuaster, with your lordship, and desire he 
 may bo furthcoming to 'em. 
 JuM. That borrow'd name is ntine. — [Calling to 
 t/u>4< toi/Atn] Shift fur yuurselvcH ; 
 Awuy, Hhifl fur yuunolves ; fly ; I am t^ikcn ! 
 Earl. Why «hoidd they fly, thou screech-owl f 
 JuM. I will tell thee : 
 ThcMw throe are |>artnem with mo in the murder; 
 Wo four couiniix'd the poi»on. — [CaUiny to tJioie 
 vi/Ain] Kiiifl for yoursolves! 
 Earl. Ht4>p'« muuth, and drag him back ; en- 
 troat'em outer. [Exit First Sorv. 
 
 (>, what a ouuflict fool I in my blood ! 
 I would I wero loai groat to be more good. 
 
 Mmtfr TnruiMixia. WArrji. aii<f lIuNrvRirHi.R, wi(A 
 Kiral HorvliiKiiiaii. 
 
 I Y»'r« wolouiuo: ^hniifuro lumo you f — Guard 
 the •I.H.r* 
 
 r»./, Ifimff nt </ ifrmlj 
 
 .•liloJ — lloroprolNiUy 
 
 When I behold that object, all my senses 
 Revolt from reason. — He that oflers flight 
 Drops down a corse. 
 
 Ten., Wafer, Honey. A corse ! * 
 Pirtt Serv. Ay, a corse : do you scorn to be 
 worms' meat more than she ? 
 Jtut. See, gentlemen, the Italian that does 
 scorn. 
 Beneath the moon, no baseness like the horn, 
 Has pour'd through all the veins of yon chaste 
 
 bosom 
 Strong poison to preserve it from that plague. 
 This fleshly lord, he doted on my wife ; 
 He would have wrought on her and play'd on me : 
 But to pare ofi" these brims, I cut ofl" her, 
 And guU'd him with this lie, that you had hands 
 Dij)t in her blood with mine ; but this I did, 
 That his otaiu'd age and name might not be hid. 
 My act, though vile, the world shall crown as just ; 
 I shall die clear, when he lives soil'd with lust. — 
 But, come, rise, Moll ; awake, sweet Moll ; thou'st 
 
 play'd 
 The woman rarely, counterfeited well. 
 
 [Mistress Jcstixiano riiu. 
 First Serv. Sure, sh'as nine lives. 
 Just. See, Lucrece is not slain ; 
 Her eyes, which lust call'd suns, have their first 
 
 beams. 
 And all these frightments are but idle dreams : 
 Yet, afore Jove, she had her knife prepar'd 
 To let her * blood forth ere it should run black. 
 Do not these open cuts now cool your back ? 
 Methinks they should : when vice sees with 
 
 broad eyes 
 Her ugly form, she does herself despise. 
 
 Earl. Mirror of dames, I look upon thee now. 
 As men long blind having rccovcr'd sight, 
 Amaz'd, scarce able are to endure the light. 
 Mine own shame strikes me dumb : hencefurth 
 
 the book 
 I'll read shall be thy mind, and not thy look. 
 
 Honey. I would eitlier we were at Brainfoixl to 
 see our wives, or our wives here to see this jia- 
 geanL 
 
 Ten. So would I ; I stand upon thorns. 
 EarL The jewels which I gave you, weiu-; your 
 fortunes 
 I'll raise on golden pillars : faro you well. 
 Lu»t in olil age, like bunit straw, does oven choke 
 Tho kiiulltTH, and consumes in stinking smoko. 
 
 [Krit. 
 J>i»t. You may follow your lord by the smoke, 
 badger*. 
 
 • ArrJ Tlio oia «<L, " hit." 
 
WESTWARD HO. 
 
 235 
 
 First Serv. If fortune had favoured him, we 
 might have followed you by the horns. 
 
 Just. Fortune favours fools ; your lord's a 
 wise lord. {^Exeunt Servingmen.] So. — How now ! 
 ha ! This is that makes me fat now : is't not 
 ratsbane to you, gentlemen, as pap was to Nestor ? 
 but I know the invisible sins of your wives hang 
 at your eye-lids, and that makes you so heavy- 
 headed. 
 
 Ten. If I do take 'em napping, I know what 
 I'll do. 
 
 Honey. I'll nap some of them. 
 
 Ten. That villain Monopoly, and that Sir Gos- 
 ling, treads 'em all. 
 
 Wafer. Would I might come to that treading ! 
 
 Jiist. Ha, ha, so would I. — Come, Moll : the 
 book of the siege of Ostend,* writ by one that 
 dropped in the action, will never sell so well as 
 a report of the siege between this grave, this 
 wicked elder and thyself ; an impression of you 
 two would away in a May morning. Was it 
 ever heard that such tirings were brought away 
 fi'om a lord by any wench but thee, Moll, with- 
 out paying, imless the wench conycatched him ? 
 Go thy ways : if all the great Turk's concubines 
 were but like thee, the ten-penny infidel t should 
 
 never need keep so many geldings to neigh over 
 'em. — Come, shall this western voyage hold, my 
 hearts ? 
 
 Ten., Wafer, Honey. Yes, yes. 
 
 Just. Yes, yes ! s'foot, you speak aa if you 
 had no hearts, and look as if you were going 
 westward indeed.* To see how plain-dealing 
 women can pull down men ! — Moll, you'll help 
 us to catch smelts + too ] 
 
 Mist. Just. If you be pleased. 
 
 Just. Never better since I wore a smock. 
 
 Honey. I fear our oars have given us the bag. J 
 
 Wafer. Good, I'd laugh at that. 
 
 Just. If they have, would theirs § might give 
 them the bottle ! Come, march whilst the women 
 double their files. Married men, see, there's com- 
 fort; the moon's up : 'fore Don Phoebus, I doubt 
 we shall have a frost this night, her horns are so 
 sharp : do you not feel it bite 1 
 
 Ten. I do, I'm sure. 
 
 Just. But we'll sit upon one another's skirts 
 i' the boat, and lie close in straw, like the hoary 
 courtier. Set on 
 
 To Braiuford now, where if you meet frail wives, 
 
 Ne'er swear 'gainst horns in vain Dame Nature 
 
 strives. [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 SCENE I.+ 
 
 iTft^cj-MoNOPOLT, Whirlpool, Linstock; Mistre.ss Honey- 
 suckle, Mistress Wafer, and Mistress Tenterhook, 
 iheir hats oj}'. 
 
 Mon. Why, chamberlain ! — Will not these 
 fiddlers be drawn forth 1 are they not in tune 
 yet] or are the rogues afraid o' the statute, § and 
 dare not travel so far without a passport ? 
 
 Whirl. What, chamberlain ! 
 
 Lin. Where's mine host? — What, chamberlain ! 
 
 Enter Chamberlain. 
 Cham. Anon, sir ; here, sir ; at hand, sir. 
 Mon. Where's this noise 111 What a lousy town's 
 this ! Has Braiuford no music iu't ? 
 
 * the siege of Ostend] See note t> p. 210. 
 t the ten-penny injidel'] So Dekker ; 
 
 " Wilt figlit, Turlce-a-tenximee ? " 
 
 Sittiromastix, 1602, sig. H 2. 
 t Scene /.] Brentford. A room in iiu inn. 
 § the stalute] " Statute against vagabonds." MS. note 
 by Malone. 
 
 II noise] See note §, p. 222. 
 
 Cham. They are but rosining, sir, and they'll 
 scrape themselves into your company presently. 
 
 Mon. Plague o' their cat's-guts and their 
 scraping ! Dost not see women here, and can we, 
 thiukest thou, be without a noise, then? 
 
 Cham. The troth is, sir, one of the poor in- 
 struments caught a sore mischance last night : 
 his most base bridge fell down ; and belike 
 they are making a gathering for the reparations 
 of that. 
 
 Whirl. When they come, let's have 'em, with a 
 pox. 
 
 Cham. Well, sir, you shall, sir. 
 
 Mon. Stay, chamberlain; where's our knight. 
 Sir Gosling 1 where's Sir Gosling ? 
 
 Cham. Troth, sir, my master and Sir Gosling 
 are guzzling ; they are dabbling together fathom- 
 
 * westward irideed] i. e. to Tyburn, 
 t to catch smelts] See note *, p. 223. 
 t I fear our oars have given us the bag'] To give the bag 
 means to cheat. 
 § theii-s] Old ed., "wheres." 
 
23G 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 deep : the knight hath drunk so much health to 
 the gentlemen yonder, on his knees,' that he 
 has almost lost the use of hia leg*. 
 
 ilut. Honey. 0, for love, let none of 'em enter 
 our room, fie ! 
 
 MUt. Wafer. I would not have 'em cast up 
 their accountii here, for more than they mean to 
 be drunk this twelvemonth. 
 
 Mut. Ten. Good cluunberlain, keep them and 
 their healths out of our company. 
 
 Cham. I warrant you, their healths shall not 
 hurt you. [Erit. 
 
 Hon. Ay, well said ! they're none of our 
 giving : let 'em keep their own quarter. Nay, I 
 told you the men would soak him, if he were 
 ten knights ; if he were a knight of gold, they'd 
 fetch him over. 
 MUl. Ten. Out upon him ! 
 WhirL There's a lieutenant and a captain 
 •mongHt 'em too. 
 
 Mon. Nay, then, look to have somebody lie on 
 the earth for't : it's ordinary for your lieutenant 
 to be drunk with your captain, and your captain 
 to cast with your knight. 
 
 Mi$t. Ten. Did you never hear how Sir Fabian 
 Scarecrow (even such another) took me up one 
 night before my husband, being in wine ? 
 iliif. Wafer. No, indeed: how was it! 
 i/i«/. Ten. lUit I think I took him down with 
 a witneu. 
 I Hut. Honey. How, good Tenterhook ? 
 I MiM. Ten. Nay, I'll have all your care take 
 I part of it. 
 ' Omnr*. Como, on then. 
 
 Mut. Ten. Ho u»etl to frcijuent mo and my 
 hunband divcm timoa ; and at last comes he out 
 ooo morning to my huabaiid, and says, " Master 
 Tenterliook," Maya he, " I must trouble you to 
 Iwid mo two hun<lred |>ound about a commodity 
 which I am to dual in :" and what was that com- 
 tnoditj but h\» knighthuotl t 
 I Omna. Ho. 
 
 Mt*l TtTt. •' Why, you iihall, Miwter Scarecrow," 
 KAjf* my (»cmm1 man : U) within a littlo whilo aflir, 
 MuUr K«l«imi wiw t-rvatt-d knight. 
 
 M-jn ('roatod a knijsht ! that's no good he- 
 )'itu uiiiiit Miy dubWl. 
 TtH Ami why nut croa<e<I, pray f 
 I 0«w«, exetiA Hon. Ay, well done I put him 
 
 <luWtl al'l UMIl «ro«|Ml||. 
 
 intiuu. 
 
 Hist. Ten. Not created ! why, all things have 
 their being by creation. 
 
 Lin. Yes, by my faith, is't. 
 
 Mist. Ten. But to return to my tale,— 
 
 Whirl. Ay, marry ; mark now. 
 
 Miit. Ten. AMien he had climbed up this costly 
 ladder of preferment, he disburses the money 
 back again very honourably; comes home, and 
 was by my husband invited to supper. There 
 8ui)pcd with us, besides, another gentleman 
 incident to the court, one that had bespoke me 
 of my husband to help me into the banquctting- 
 house and see the revelling, a young gentle- 
 woman,* and that wag our schoolmaster, Master 
 Parenthesis, for I remember he said grace, — 
 methiuks I see him yet, how he turned up the 
 white o' the eye, when he came to the last gasp, 
 and that he was almost past grace ! — 
 
 Muit. Wafer. Nay, he can do't. 
 
 Misl. Ten. All supper-time my new-minted 
 knight made wine the waggon to his meat, for it 
 ran down his thi'oat so fast, that, before my 
 chamber-maid had taken half up, he was not 
 scarce able to stand. 
 
 Mon. A general fault at citizens' tables. 
 
 Mist. Ten. And I, thinking to play upon him, 
 asked him, "Sir Fabian Scai-ecrow," quoth I, 
 " what pretty gentlewoman will you raise up now 
 to stall her your lady!" But he, like afoul- 
 mouthed man, swore, " Zounds, I'll stall never u 
 punk in England a lady; there's too many 
 already." " O, fie. Six- Fabian," quoth I, " will 
 you call her that shall be your wife such an 
 odious name .'" And then he sets out a throat, 
 and Hworo again, like a stinking-breathed knight 
 as ho was, that women were like horses, — 
 
 Mist. Honey., Mitt. Wafer. filthy knave ! 
 
 Mitt. Ten. They'd break over any hedge t,> 
 cliaugo their i>asture, though it were worse. 
 " Kio, man, fie," says the gentlewoman, — 
 Molt. Very good. 
 
 Mist. 7Vn. And ho, bristling up his beard to • 
 mil at her too, I cut him over the thumbs thua ; 
 " Wliy, Sir Fubiau Scarecrow, did I incense my 
 huNbmid to lend you so much money upon your 
 b»u"o word, luul do you buckbito my friends aud 
 mo to our faces] 1 thought you had had more 
 persevonmco : if you bore a knightly and a de- 
 gunurouH mind, you would scorn it : you had 
 wont t«> bo more deformablo amongst women : 
 fie, that you'll bo ao humoursomo I here waa 
 iiuUMly Hu t'grogiuua towards you, Sir Fabian :" 
 
 • pml/nr<>MiiN I Tlio old ooi>y " lioiitlouiaa ' 
 what prcMiiUy fullowa. 
 
 but ae« 
 
WESTWARD HO. 
 
 237 
 
 and thus, in good sadness, I gave him the best 
 woi'ds I could pick out, to make him ashamed of 
 his doings. 
 
 Whh-l. And how took he this correction 1 
 
 Mist. Ten. Very heavily, for he slept presently 
 upon't; and in the morning was the soi'riest 
 knight, and, I warrant, is so to this day, that lives 
 by bread in England. 
 
 Mon. To see what wine and women can do ! 
 the one makes a man not to have a word to 
 throw at a dog, the other makes a man to eat his 
 own words, though they were never so filthy. 
 
 Whii-l. I see these fiddlers cannot build up 
 their bridge, that some music may come over us. 
 
 Zin. No, faith, they are dmnk too : what 
 shall's do therefore ? 
 
 3fon. Sit up at cards all night. 
 
 3Iist. Wafer. That's serving-man's fashion. 
 
 Whii'l. Drink burnt wine and eggs, then. 
 
 Mist. Honey. That's an exercise for your suburb 
 wenches. 
 
 3Iisf. Ten. No, no, let's set upon our posset, 
 and so march to bed ; for I begin to wax light 
 with having my natural sleep pulled out o' mine 
 eyes. 
 
 Omnes. Agreed, be't so ; the sack-posset and 
 to bed. 
 
 Mon. What, chamberlain ! — I must take a pipe 
 of tobacco. 
 
 Mist. Honey., Mist. Wafer, Mist. Ten. Not here, 
 not here, not here. 
 
 Mist. Wafer. I'll rather love a man that takes 
 a purse than him that takes tobacco. 
 
 Mist. Ten. By my little finger, I'll break all 
 your pipes, and burn the case and the box too, 
 an you draw out your stinking smoke afore me. 
 
 Mon. Prithee, good Mistress Tenterhook, — I'll 
 ha' done in a trice. 
 
 Mist. Ten. Do you long to have me swoon ? 
 
 Mon. I'll use but half a pipe, in troth. 
 
 Mist. Ten. Do you long to see me lie at your 
 feet? 
 
 Mon. Smell to't ; 'tis perfumed. 
 
 Mist. Ten. God, God, you anger me ; you 
 stir my blood ; you move me ; you make me 
 spoil a good face with frowning at you. This was 
 ever your fashion, so to smoke my husband when 
 you come home, that I could not abide him in 
 mine eye; he was a mote in it, methought, a month 
 aftei'. Pray, spawl in another room ; fie, fie, fie ! 
 
 Mon. Well, well : come, we'll for once feed 
 her humour. 
 
 Mist. Honey. Get two rooms off at least, if you 
 love us. 
 
 Mist. Wafer. Three, three. Master Linstock, 
 three. 
 
 Lin. 'Sfoot, we'll dance to Norwich,* and 
 take it there, if you'll stay till we return again. 
 Here's a stir ! You'll ill abide a fiery face, that 
 cannot endure a smoky nose. 
 
 Mon. Come, let's satisfy our appetite. 
 
 Whirl. And that will be hard for us ; but we'll 
 do our best. 
 
 [^Exeunt Monopoly, 'Whirlpool, and Linstock. 
 
 Mist. Ten. So ; are they departed ] What 
 string may we three think that these three gal- 
 lants harp upon, by bringing us to this sinful 
 town of Brainford, ha ] 
 
 Mist. Honey. I know what string they would 
 harp upon, if they could put us into the right 
 tune. 
 
 Mist. Wafer. I know what one of 'em buzzed 
 in mine ear, till, like a thief in a candle, he made 
 mine ears burn ; but I swore to say nothing. 
 
 Mist. Ten. I know as verily they hope, and 
 brag one to another, that this night they'll row 
 westward in our husbands' wherries as we hope 
 to be rowed to London to-morrow morning in a 
 pair of oars. But, wenches, let's be wise, and 
 make rooks of them that, I warrant, are now 
 setting purse-nets+ to conycatch us. 
 
 Mist. Honey., 3Iist. Wafer. Content. 
 
 Mist. Ten. They shall know that citizens' wives 
 have wit enough to outstrip twenty such gulls : 
 though we are merry, let's not be mad ; be as 
 wanton as new-married wives, as fantastic and 
 light-headed to the eye as feather-makers, but as 
 pure about the heart as if we dwelt amongst 'em 
 in Blackfriars.J 
 
 3Iist. Wafer. We'll eat and drink with 'em. 
 
 Mist. Ten. 0, yes ; eat with 'em as huugerly as 
 soldiers; drink as if we were froes;§ talk as 
 freely as jesters : but do as little as misers, who, 
 like dry nurses, have great breasts, but give no 
 milk. It were better we should laugh at their 
 popinjays than live in fear of their prating 
 
 * dance to Noncich'] An allusion to a feat of Kempe, 
 the actor, of which he published an account, called 
 Kemps Nine Daies Wonder, perforraed in a davMce from 
 London to Norwich, 1600, 4to. It has been reprinted by 
 the Camden Society from the unique copy in the 
 Bodleian Library. 
 
 t 2)urse-ni:ts\ See note *, p. 130. 
 
 X as fantastic and, light-headed to the eye as feather- 
 makers, but as pure about the heart as if we dwelt amongst 
 'em in Blackfriars] Blackfriars was famed for the resi- 
 dence of Puritans, some of whom, most inconsistently 
 with their religious opinions, followed the trade of 
 feather-making. 
 
 § froes'] i. e. frows. 
 
238 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 tongues. Though we lie all night out of the city, 
 they shall not find country wenches of xxs; but 
 since we ha' broii^^ht 'etn tliua far into a fool's 
 paradifc, leave 'em in't : the jest shall be a stock 
 to uiaiutain us anil our pewfcUows in laughing 
 at christenings, cryingsout, and upsittings this 
 twelve-month. How say you, wenches ? have I 
 ■et the saddle on the right horse ? 
 
 Mist. Wafer, Mitt. lionet/. O, 'twill be excellent ! 
 
 Mitt. Wafer. But how shall we shift 'em off? 
 
 Mttt- Ten. Not OS ill debtors do their creditors,^ 
 with good words; but as lawyers do their clients 
 when they're overthrown, by some new knavish 
 trick : and thus it shall be ; one of us mu£t 
 diiMH-uiblo to be suddenly very sick. ^ 
 
 Milt. Honey. I'll be she. 
 
 Milt. Ten. Nay, though wc can all dissemble 
 well, yet I'll be she; for men are so jealous, or 
 rather euvious of one another's happiness, espe- 
 cially in these out-of-town gossipings, that he 
 who shall miss his hen, if he be a right cock 
 indeed, will watch the other from treading. 
 
 Mitt. Wafer. That's certain ; I know that by 
 myself. 
 
 MiM. Ten. And, like /E.sop's dog, unless himself 
 might eat liay, will lie in the manger and starve, 
 but he'll hinder the horse from eating any : 
 besidcH, it will be as good as a Welsh hook for 
 jou to keep out the other at the staves-end ; for 
 you may boldly staiul upon this ]iuiut, that unless 
 •very mnn's heels may be tript up, you scorn to 
 play at fo<,tb!ilL 
 
 Mitt. Uuney. That's certain: — peace! I hear 
 them Kpiltiug after thoir tobacco. 
 
 Mttt. Ten. A choir, a chair ! one of you keep 
 M groat a eoil an<l calling as if* you ran for a mid- 
 wife; th'othar liohl my head ; whilst I cut my lace. 
 
 Mut. Wafer. I'luuiion of me ! Master Monopoly I 
 llaator l.in«tock ! an you bo men, help to dawf 
 Miatroas I'ontrrhook I 0, quickly, quickly ! she's 
 •ick and taken with an ugouy. 
 
 lU rt<trT, at ttu mft, MoNOrol.V, WlllRIJHMil, (iM<{ 
 I.IHllTlM'H. 
 
 Mom., WkirL, J/in. Sick I How ! how uow! what's 
 Ui* tiiatt4ir I 
 
 Mufi. Kwoot CUrti, rail up thy npirits. 
 
 Mut Ten. ( » Maftttn- Monopoly, my spirits will 
 not cm*, at my collinK ' I »"« terrible and ill. 
 Burs, suro, I'm .truck with soiiiu wicko<l planet, 
 far U hit my very hoart O, I fool myself worse 
 and warse* 
 
 Mon. Some burnt sack for her, good wenches, 
 or posset-drink. Pox o' this rogue chamberlain * 
 one of you call him. How her pulses beat ! a 
 draught of cinnamon-water now for her were 
 better than two tankards out of the Thames. — 
 How now, ha ' 
 
 Miit. Ten. Ill, ill, iU, ill, Ul. 
 
 Mon. I'm accursed to spend money in this tov 
 of iniquity; there's no good thing ever comes ■ 
 of it; and it stands upon such musty ground. : 
 reason of the riv.er, that I cannot see how a 
 tender woman can do well in't. 'Sfoot, sick 
 now, cast down, now 'tis come to the push ! 
 
 Mitt. Ten. My mind misgives me that all's not 
 sound at London. 
 
 Whirl. Pox on 'em that be not sound I what 
 need that touch you ? 
 
 Mist. Ten. I fear you'll never carry me thitl. : . 
 
 Mon., Whirl., Lin. Pooh, pooh, say not so. 
 
 Miit. Ten. Pray, let ray clothes be utterly 
 undone, and then lay me in my bed. 
 
 Lin. Walk up and down a little. 
 
 Mist. Ten. Master Linstock, 'tis no walki - 
 will serve my turn. — Have me to bed, good swi ■ 
 Mistress Honeysuckle. — I doubt that old 1. 
 Gillian of Braiuford,* has bewitched me. 
 
 • Gillian of Brain/oril] Gillian, Julian, or Joau of 
 Brentford was a reputed witch of some celebrity. 
 
 Ii/l of brtfml/or'ln tesfamtnt. ArtrJi/ coiupiletl, n. d. 4to., 
 cousistinf; of cif^ht loaves, is among^ the rarest of black- 
 letter tracts ; it was written by Rol>crt, and printed by 
 William, Copland. In this very low and vnlfrar pn>- 
 duction no mention is made of Gillian's being addicted 
 to witchcraft : as the Hudluiau copy is now before me, I 
 ipioto a few lines from it ; 
 
 " At Brentford on the west of London 
 Nygh to a place y' called is .''yon 
 There dwelt a widow of a homly sort 
 
 Iloncst in niihstaiiiieo and full of sjiort 
 Dally she cnwd w' |>:tstini and Joatos 
 
 Among her noyjjh hours and her jjostes 
 She kept an Ifte of ryght pfood liHlffyiiff 
 For all I'sUitos lh:it thydor was coniyug." 
 The reailor who has any curlo>ity to know what 
 Olllian betpioathet) ta her friends, may Knitify It by 
 turning to Nash's Summrri Uttt leill and ItMamrnl, KHN), 
 8lif. n. -J. 
 
 It npiiears (W>m ITenslowo'a Piitry that she wns n 
 olmraotor In n play written by Thonma Powton [or 
 I' ' ' ul K.dly [RowluyT), producoit in 
 
 I 1 iiii'iitloiu-d thoro under tlio title of 
 
 " ' , , ot' Uriiiit'onU." 
 
 Ill the •Ito. ol alinkoH|ioArv'R .Vrrry n'itft of Windtor, 
 IflO'J, when MUtrciiN Vnue says that KnUlaff 
 " nilKht put on a k'owuo and a inufllor, 
 And no oiira|K<," 
 MU(n<iM Konl annwum, 
 " Tlinl« wol ruinrnibrcd, my maids aunt, 
 UilluiH i\f Uiiiin/onl, hath a irr>wne al>ouo." 
 
 p. :i7, Kliakuspcaro Soc. reprint. 
 
SCENE III. 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 239 
 
 Mon. Look to her, good wenches. 
 
 Mist. Wafer. Ay, so wa will, — [aside] and to 
 you too. [Aside to Mist. Ten. and Mist. Honey.] 
 This was excellent. 
 
 [Exeunt Mistress Testebhook, Mistress Honey- 
 suckle, ami Mistress Wafer. 
 
 Jlliirl. This is strange. 
 
 Lin. Villanous spiteful luck ! No matter, 
 th'other two hold bias. 
 
 Whirl. Peace ! mark how he's nipt ; nothing 
 grieves rae so much as that poor Pyramus here 
 must have a wall this night between him and his 
 .Thisbe. 
 
 Mon. No remedy, trusty Troilus : and it grieves 
 me as much that you'll want your false Cressida 
 to-night, for here's no Sir Pandarus to usher you 
 into yom* chamber. 
 
 Lin. ril summon a parley to one of the 
 wenches, and see how all goes. 
 
 Mo7i. No whispering with the common enemy, 
 by this iron : he sees the devil that sees how 
 all goes amongst the women to-night. Nay, 
 'sfoot, if I stand piping till you dance, damn 
 me. 
 
 Lin. Why, you'll let me call to 'em but at the 
 key-hole 1 
 
 Mon. Pooh, good Master Linstock, I'll not 
 stand by whilst you give fire at your key-holes. 
 I'll hold no trencher till another feeds ; no 
 stirrup till another gets up ; be no door-keeper. 
 I ha' not been so often at court, but I know what 
 the backside of the hangings are made of; I'll 
 trust none under a piece of tapestry, namely a 
 coverlet. 
 
 Whirl. What will you say if the wenches do 
 this to gull us? 
 
 Mon. No matter, I'll not be doubly gulled, by 
 them and by you : go, will you take the lease of 
 the next chamber, and do as I do 1 
 
 Whii'l., Lin. And what's that? 
 
 Mon. Any villany in your company, but nothing 
 Cut on't. 'j. Will you sit up, or lie by't ? 
 
 Whirl. Nay, lie, sure; for lying is most in 
 fashion. 
 
 Mon. Troth, then, I'll have you before me. 
 
 Whirl., Lin. It shall be yours. 
 
 Mon. Yours, i' faith : I'll play Janus with two 
 faces, and look asquint both ways for one 
 night. 
 
 Lin. Well, sir, you shall be our door-keeper. 
 
 Mon. Since we must swim, let's leap into one 
 flood: 
 We'll either be all naught, or else all good. 
 
 Kreunt. 
 
 SCENE II.* 
 Enter a Noise of Fiddlers, f following the Chamberlain. 
 Cham. Come, come, come, follow me, follow 
 me. I warrant, you ha' lost more by not falling 
 into a sound + last night, than ever you got at 
 one job since it pleased to make you a noise : I 
 can tell you, gold is no money with 'em. Follow 
 me, and fum as you go : you shall put something 
 into theu' ears, whilst I provide to put something 
 into their bellies. Follow close, and fum. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IIL§ 
 
 Enter Sir Gosung Glowworm and Mistress Birdlime 
 pv.Ued along hij him. 
 
 Sir Gos. What kin art thou to Long Meg of 
 Westminster? II thou' rt like her. 
 
 Bird. Somewhat alike, sir, at a blush ; nothing 
 akin, sir, saving in height of mind, and that she 
 was a goodly woman. 
 
 Sir Gos. Mary Ambree,TI do not you know me 1 
 had not I a sight of this sweet phisnomy at 
 Rhenish wine-house, ha? last day, i'the Stilliard, 
 ha?** WTiitherart bound, galley foist ?tt whither 
 art bound ? whence comest thou, female yeoman- 
 o'-the-guard ? 
 
 Bird. From London, sir. 
 
 Sir Gos. Dost come to keep the door, Ascapart ? XX 
 
 Bird. My repairations hither is to speak with 
 the gentlewomen here that drunk with your 
 worship at the Dutch house of meeting. 
 
 Sir Gos. Drunk with me ! you lie, not drunk 
 vtdth me : but, faith, what wouldst with the 
 
 * Scene //.] The same. A lobby in tbe same. 
 
 t a Noise of Fiddlers] See note §, p. 222. 
 
 J sowuT] I need hardly observe that the Chamberlain 
 is quibbling here, — sound, being the usual form of swoon 
 ■when this play was written. 
 
 § Scene III.I The same. A room in the same. 
 
 II Lowj Meg of Westminster] An Amazon often alluded 
 to by our old writers. She was the heroine of a play, 
 named after her, and first acted in 1594, as we learn from 
 Henslowe's Diary. She also fig^ured in a ballad entered 
 on the Stationers' books in that year. In 1635 appeared 
 a tract entitled Tlie Life of Long Meg of Westminster, con- 
 taining the mad nurry prankes she played in her lifetime, dx. 
 
 T[ Mary Amhree] Was as famous as the lady last men- 
 tioned. The valorous acts performed, at Gaunt by the brave 
 bonnie lass Mary Ambree, who in revenge of her lovers 
 death did play her part most gallantly, may be found in 
 Percy's Reliqv.es, vol. ii. p. 240, ed. 1812. 
 
 ** the Rhenish wine-house . . . i'tlie Stilliard^ See 
 note t, P- 217. 
 
 tt galleyfoist] A large barge with oars. When our old 
 writers talk of "the galleyfoist," they mean the Lord 
 Mayor of London's barge. The word is formed of galley, 
 and foist, a light vessel, — Fr. fuste. 
 
 U Ascaparf] A renowned giant, whom Sir Bevis of 
 Southampton conquered. 
 
240 
 
 ^N-ESTWARD HO. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 women ? they are a-bed. Art not a midwife? one 
 of 'em told me thou wert a nightwoman. 
 
 [Miu.e riihin: th( Fiddlers. 
 
 Bird. I ha' brought some women a bed in my 
 time, Bir. 
 
 .Sir Got. Ay, and some young men too, haat not, 
 Pandora? — How now! where's this noise? 
 
 Bird. I'll commit your worship — 
 
 Sir Oo*. To the stocks? art a justice? shalt not 
 oommtt me. 
 
 EMer Fiddlers. 
 Dance first, faith. — Wiy, scrapers, appear under 
 the wenches' comical window,* by the Lord ! U'ds 
 dagjjors, cannot sin be set ashore once in a reign 
 upon your country quarters, but it must have 
 fiddling) what set of villains are you, you per- 
 petual nuramuffmB ? 
 
 Firtt Fid. The town-consort, t sir. 
 
 Sir Oo». Consort, with a pox ! cannot the 
 shaking of the sheets X be danced without your 
 town-piping ? nay, then, let all hell roar. 
 
 Firtt Fid. I beseech you, sir, put up yours, 
 and we'll put up ours. 
 
 Sir Got, Play, you lousy Ilungarl.ins : § see, 
 look the Maypole is sot up, we'll dance about it. 
 — Keep tills circle, maquerelle.ll 
 
 Bird, I am no mackerel, and I'll keep no 
 drclca. 
 
 Sir Got- Play, life of Pharaoh, play : the bawd 
 shall teach me a Scotch jig. 
 
 Bird. Bawd ! I defy thee and thy jigs, whatso- 
 •rer thou art : were I in place where, I'd make 
 thee prove thy words. 
 
 iS"ir Oo*. I would prove 'em, Mother Best-be- 
 tniNt : why, do not I know you, grnnnnm ? and 
 thai stigor-loaf ? % ha ! do I not, Mopii'ra ? 
 
 Bird. I am none of your Megs : do not nick- 
 naino ni« ho ; I will nrit be iiicko<I. 
 
 ■ " I '. f uinUr Ikt wntehei' comical 
 
 >' ■ ' > I l( ti ' I cauiiot explklit it: ifit bo 
 
 wf'ii^'. I r«iiiii.l Ml It rljfht. (In the flml cd. of tlio 
 I rr-«ciit Wfirk I iiiiertod ">Ar coiiilral weiu'liun' lr(lll^lM>"?) 
 
 ■ '■ ..til »c i..ivjr.(i. 
 
 • I nil olil (lit'.co, 
 1 ..Jrc by our curly 
 OrmiuaUabi 
 
 I />«>A<tH<«->^ A mut trrin, nlln<llnc elMirr to the 
 
 '■ : r.i .,1 
 
 I. 
 
 1 ■ ..u.t..nt 
 
 . t I 10 III 
 t'. Ilrethwall Iim; 
 ' t lulo, 
 I maid." 
 
 ■ li'.'.H. j>. 10. 
 1 1 funiia • 
 
 Sir Got. You will not, you will not ! how many 
 of my name, of the Glowworms, have paid for 
 your furred gowns, thou woman's broker? 
 
 Bird. No, sir, I scorn to be beholding to any 
 glowworm that lives upon earth for my fur : I 
 can keep myself warm without glowworms. 
 
 Sir Got. Canst sing, woodpecker? come, sing, 
 and wake 'em. 
 
 Bird. Would you should well know it, I am 
 no singing woman. 
 
 Sir Got. Howl, then : 'sfoot, sing or howl, or 
 I'll break your ostrich egg-shell there. 
 
 Bird. My egg hurts not you : what do you 
 mean, to flourish so ? 
 
 Sir Got. Sing, Madge, Madge ; sing, owlet 
 
 Bird. How can I sing with such a sour face ? 
 I am haunted with a cough and cannot sing. 
 
 Sir Gos. One of your instruments, mountc- 
 banka — Come, here, clutch, clutch. 
 
 Bird. Alas, sir, I'm an old woman, and know 
 not how to clutch an instrument. 
 
 Sir Gos. Look, mark : to and fro, as I rub it ; 
 make a noise; it's no matter ; any hunt's-up* to 
 waken vice. 
 
 Bird. I shall never rub it in tune. 
 
 Sir Gos. Will yon scrape ? 
 
 Bird. So you will let me go in to the parties, I 
 will saw and make a noise. 
 
 Sir Gos. Do, then : sha't in to the parties, and 
 part 'em ; sha't, my lean leua. 
 
 Bird. If I must needs play the fool in my old 
 days, let me have the biggost instrument, because 
 I can hold that best : I shall cough like a broken- 
 winded horse, if I gape once to sing once. 
 
 Sir Gos. No matter ; cough out thy lungs. 
 
 Bird. No, sir, though I'm old and worni-eaton, 
 I'm not so rotten. [Couffhi. 
 
 A Song.f 
 Will your worship bo rid of me now ? 
 
 Sir Got. Fain, as rich men's hoii-s wouhl be of 
 their gOTity dads. That's the hot-house whei-e 
 your jiartios iiro sweating: amble; go, toll the ho 
 parties I have sent 'em a mast to their ship. 
 
 Bird. Yes, forsooth, I'll do your on*and. [K.rit. 
 
 Sir Got. Half nmsty still, by thundering Jove ! 
 With what wedge of villany might I cleave out 
 an hour or two? — Fiddlers, come, strike xip ; 
 march before mo : the chamberlain shall put a 
 crown for you into his bill of items. You shall 
 siiiR bawdy songs under every window i'tho 
 
 • hunft u/i| MoniiN )im|>orly a tuuo plaj'cd to rouM 
 ■•|)ortMiion In tlio niKniiiig. 
 t A SoHtf] Hoo note (, p. 45. 
 
SCENE IV. 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 241 
 
 town : up will the clowns start, down come the 
 wenches ; we'll set the men a-fighting, the 
 women a-scolding, the dogs a-Larking ; you shall 
 go on fiddling, and I follow dancing Lantajra : 
 curry your instruments, play, and away. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IV.* 
 
 Enter Tenterhook, Honeysuckle, Wafer, Justiniano, 
 and Mistress Justiniano, ivith Aubvs^h and Cham- 
 berlaiu. 
 
 Honey. Sergeant Ambush, as thou'rt an honest 
 fellow, scout in some back-room, till the watch- 
 word be given for sallying forth. 
 
 A7ni. Dun's the mouse.f [Exit. 
 
 Ten. A little low woman, sayest thou, in a 
 
 velvet cap, and one of 'em in a beaver? — Brother 
 
 Honeysuckle, and brother Wafer, hai'k, they are 
 
 they. 
 
 Wafer. But art sure their husbands are a-bed 
 with 'em 1 
 
 Cham. I think so, sir ; I know not : I left 'em 
 together in one room; and what division fell 
 amongst 'em the fates can discover, not I. 
 
 Ten. Leave us, good chamberlain; we are some 
 of their friends ; leave us, good chamberlain; be 
 merry a little ; leave us, honest chamberlain. 
 
 [Exit Chamberlain. 
 We are abused, we are bought and sold in Brain- 
 ford-market : never did the sickness of one belied 
 nurse-child stick so cold to tlie hearts of three 
 fathers; never were three innocent citizens so 
 horribly, so abominably wrung under the withers. 
 
 Honey., Wafer. What shall we do? how shall 
 we heljD ourselves ? 
 
 Honey. How shall we pull this thorn out of 
 our foot, before it rankle ? 
 
 Ten. Yes, yes, yes, well enough: one of us 
 stay here to watch, do you see ? to watch ; have 
 an eye, have an ear. I, and my brother Wafer, 
 and Master Justiniano, will set the town in an 
 insurrection, bring hither the constable and his 
 bill-men, break open upon 'em, take 'em iu their 
 wickedness, and put 'em to their purgation. 
 
 Honey., Wafer. Agreed. 
 
 Just. Ha, ha, purgation ! 
 
 len. We'll have 'em before some country jus- 
 tice of coram (for we scorn to be bound to the 
 peace) ; and this justice shall draw his sword in 
 
 * Scene IV.'] The same. An outer-room in the same. 
 t Dun's the mouse] See the notes of the commentators 
 n 
 
 "Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word." 
 Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, act i. sc. 
 
 our defence : if we find 'em to be malefactors, 
 we'll tickle 'em. 
 
 Honey. Agreed : do not say, but do't, come. 
 Just. Are you mad ? do you know what you 
 do ? whither will you run ? 
 
 Ten., Honey., Wafer. To set the town iu an 
 uproar. 
 
 Just. An uproar ! will you make the townsmen 
 think that Londoners never come hither but upon 
 Saint Thomas's night ? Say you should rattle up 
 the constable, thiash all the country together, 
 hedge in the house with flails, pike-staves, and 
 pitch-forks, take your wives napping, these 
 western smelts nibbling, and that, like so many 
 Vulcans, every smith should discover his Venus 
 dancing with Mars in a net, — would this plaster 
 cure the headache ? 
 Ten. Ay, it would. 
 Honey., Wafer.* Nay, it should. 
 Just. Nego, nego ; no, no, it shall be proved 
 unto you, your heads would ache worse : when 
 women are proclaimed to be light, they strive to 
 be more light; for who dare disprove a proclama- 
 tion? 
 
 Ten. Ay, but when light wives make heavy 
 husbands, let these husbands play mad Hamlet, + 
 and cry " Revenge ! " Come, and we'll do so. 
 
 Mist. Just. Pray, stay, be not so heady, at my 
 entreaty. 
 
 Just. My wife entreats you, and I entreat you, 
 to have mercy on yourselves, though you have 
 none over th^women. I'll tell you a tale. This 
 last Christmas, a citizen and his wife, as it might 
 be one of you, were invited to the revels one 
 night at one of the Inns-o'-court. The husband, 
 having business, trusts his wife thither to take 
 up a room for him before: she did so; but before 
 she went, doubts arising what blocks her husband 
 would stumble at to hinder his entrance, it was 
 consulted upon by what token, by what trick, 
 by what banner or brooch, he should be known 
 to be he when he rapped at the gate. 
 Ten., Honey., Wafer. Very good. 
 Just. The crowd, he was told, would be greater, 
 their clamours greater, and able to drown the 
 throats of a shoal of fi.?hwives: he himself, there- 
 fore, devises an excellent watchword, and the 
 sign at which he would hang out himself should 
 be a horn; he would wind his horn, and that 
 should give 'em warning that he was come. 
 
 * Honey., Wafer] The old ed. "All 3." 
 
 t i^lay mad Hamlet, and cry " Revenge ! "] One of the 
 numerous passage.s iu contemporary writers which attest 
 the popularity of Shakespeare's Hamlet. 
 
242 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 Ten., Honey., Wafer. So. 
 
 Jiut. The torcbmen aud whifflers* ha<l an item 
 to receive him : ho comes, rings out his horu with 
 an alarum, enters with a shout; nil the house 
 rises, thiuking some sow gelJer j)re8scd in ; t his 
 wife blushed, tlio company jested ; the simple 
 man, like a beggar going to the stocks, laughed, 
 w not being sensible of his own disgrace: aud 
 heroupou the punics set don^n this decree, that 
 no man shall hereafter come to laugh at their 
 revola, if his wife bo entered before him, unless 
 be carry his bom about him. 
 
 Wafer. I'll not trouble them. 
 
 Jtui. So, if you trumpet abroad and preach at 
 the market-cross your wives' shame, 'tis your own 
 ■hame. 
 
 Trn., Ilunty., Wafer. What shall wo do, then ? 
 
 Jatt. Tidco my counsel, I'll ask no fee for't : 
 bar out host, bauish mine hostess, beat away the 
 chamberlain, let tho ostlers walk, enter you the 
 cluimbera peaceably, lock the doors gingerly, look 
 upon your wives woefully, but upon the evil- 
 doeni most wickedly. 
 
 Ten. What shall we reap by this ? 
 
 Jiut. An excellent harvest, this : you shall hear 
 the poor mouse-trapped guilty gentlemen call for 
 mercy ; your wives you shall see kneeling at your 
 feet, aud weeping, and wringing, and blushing, 
 aud curning Bniinford, and crying Pardonnez moi, 
 pardonna moi, pardonnez mot/ whilst you have 
 tho choice to stand cither an judges to condemn 
 'em, bowlioa to tonuent 'em, or confessors to 
 ftb«>lve 'om. And what a glory will it bo for 
 you tliroo, to ki«H your wives like forgetful hus- 
 benda, to exhort and forgive the young men like 
 pitiful fathom; then to call for oars, then to cry 
 " M . f,,r Ix)n<lon !" then to make a supper, 
 
 '.| ••'llio tnriii U, uiiiluiibtCKlIy, lKirr..WLsl froni 
 
 .'• fur a flfo or ■ninll (Into ; fui- 
 
 illy lli..»o who |irec«xlod ariuloa i«r 
 
 ' '" "'■ I'll*"" ... In prucuaa of 
 
 *' whloh hiui alwnya been luoti in 
 
 ■ -' •• " .■.},„ woiil 
 
 '' '•■/, liUT, 
 
 '■notlnjt-.. 
 «lilUi »Uvo^* Jw.— J)ouoo'» lllu* 
 v.il, 1, |i. 44iT. 
 
 "" ■ iri.Irr, li..? 
 
 -*' . U> hltfll. lo low ! " 
 
 ii»tf>iu«| Miiniw ifolilor, hi 
 ■-•'' MNtA, u-l 111. m> 1 
 
 (|l o tholiuniltUily, 
 .lly, 
 ■. ■ ■ " pri'lf 
 
 f, Ao , p. lOS, 
 
 then to drown all in sack and sugar, then to go 
 to bed, and then to rise and open shop, where 
 you may ask any man what he lacks, with your 
 cap off, aud none shall perceive whether the 
 brims wring you. 
 
 Ten. We'll raise no towns. 
 
 Honey. No, no ; let's knock first. 
 
 Wafer. Ay, that's best : I'll summon a parley. 
 
 [Knock*. 
 
 Mist. Ten. [wUhin'\ Who's there? have you 
 stock-fish in hand, that you beat so hard? who 
 are you ? 
 
 Ten. That's my wife : let Justiniano speak, for 
 all they kuow our tongues. 
 
 Mist. Ten. [within'] What a murrain ail these 
 colts, to keep such a kicking .' — Monopoly ? 
 
 Jmt. Yes. 
 
 Mist. Ten. [loithin'] Is Master Linstock up too, 
 and the captain ? 
 
 Jmt. Both are in the field : will you open your 
 door? 
 
 Mist. Ten. [within\ 0, you arc proper gamesters, 
 to bring false dice with you from London to 
 cheat yourselves ! Is't possible that three shallow 
 women sliould gull three such galhmta ? 
 
 Ten. What means this ? 
 
 Mist. Ten. [^toithin\ Have we defied you upon 
 the walls all night, to open our gates to you i' the 
 morning? Our honest husbands, they (silly men) 
 lie praying in their beds now, that the water 
 under ils may not be rough, the tilt that covers 
 us may not be rent, and the sj^raw about our feet 
 may keep our pretty legs warm. I warrant they 
 walk upon Queenhive, as Leander did for Hero, 
 to watch for our lauding : and should we wrong 
 such kiml hearts >. would we might ever be 
 troubled with the toothache, then ! 
 
 2\n. This thing that makes fools of us thus, is 
 ">y wife. [Knocks. 
 
 Mist. Wafer. [within'\ Ay, ny, knock yo\u- 
 bellies' full : we hug one another a-bed, and lie 
 laughing till wo tickle again, to ix>mciuber how 
 wo sent you a batfowling. 
 
 Wafer. An almond, parrot:* that's my Mab's 
 voice ; I know by the sound. 
 
 • Ah iiliHonJ, parrot] A aort ofprovorblnl oxprtMuiion : 
 " .in atmon now for Pttrrol, dllycuitly drtwt" 
 
 Skoltou'H .s>av, I'lirrot.— Horlf, il, 4 i>,l. Dyco. 
 " Ah Atmim<lr /or I'arrtl, a lloiw lor Tarrot." 
 llini|;lit<>ira Kiit/liiJimm /or my tmnwy, KllcJ, 8ig. Q ;J. 
 " llnro'ii an nlmnnit/or itarrot." 
 
 DeWkrr iHul MUMIulouH n<mf,l U'lmiY (Part Firxt),— 
 Mul.ll„t..i,» n;„l,, m. hj, o.I. Dyco. 
 in Almmul for a I\i,;„l, ». a., nttrlbuto<l to Niwh. U a 
 moinorablo pnKluoUon ; nu.l ono of tho |M>onis of tho 
 
SCEITE IV. 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 243 
 
 Just. 'Sfoot, you ha' spoiled half already, and 
 you'll spoil all, if you dam not up your mouths. 
 Villany ! nothing but villany ! I'm afraid they 
 have smelt your breaths at the key-hole, and now 
 they set you to catch flounders, ■whilst in the 
 meantime the concupiscentious malefactors make 
 'em ready, and take London napping. 
 
 Ten., Honey.,' Wafer. I'll not be gulled so. 
 
 Ten. Show yourselves to be men, and break 
 open doors. 
 
 Jv^t. Break open doors, and show yourselves 
 to be beasts ! If you break open doors, your 
 wives may lay flat burglary to your chai'ge. 
 
 Honey. Lay a pudding ! burglary ! 
 
 Jvst. Will you, then, turn Corydons* because 
 you are among clowns? Shall it be said you 
 have no brains, being in Brainford 1 
 
 Ten., Honey., Wafer. Master Parenthesis, we 
 will enter and set upon 'em. 
 
 Jiist. Well, do so ; but enter not so that all the 
 country may cry shame of your doings : knock 
 'em down, burst open Erebus, and bring an old 
 house over your heads, if you do. 
 
 Wafer. No matter, we'll bear it off with head 
 and shoulders. [Knocks. 
 
 Mist. Wafer, \within'] You cannot enter, indeed, 
 la. — [^Looks out'\ God's my pittikin, our three 
 husbands summon a parley : let that long old 
 woman either creep under the bed, or else stand 
 upright behind the painted cloth. [^Disafpears. 
 
 Wafer. Do you hear, you Mabel 1 
 
 Mist. Wafer, [looking out] Let's never hide 
 our heads now, for we are discovered. 
 
 Honey. But all this while my Honeysuckle 
 appears not. 
 
 Just. Why, then, two of them have pitched 
 their tents there, and yours lies in ambuscado 
 with your enemy there. 
 
 Honey. Stand upon your guard there, whilst I 
 batter here. [Knocks. 
 
 Mon. [within] Who's there 1 
 
 Just. Hold, I'll speak in a small voice, like one 
 of the women. — Here's a friend: are you up? 
 rise, rise; stir, stir. 
 
 Mon. [within] Ud's foot, what weasel are you ] 
 are you going to catch quails, that you bring 
 your pipes with you? I'LL see what troubled 
 ghost it is that cannot sleep. [Looks out. 
 
 indefatigable Wither is called Anvjgdala Britannica, 
 Almonds for Parrels, 1047. 
 
 * CoryOons] " The name of this unfortunate shepherd 
 of Virgil [Corydon] seems to have suggested to our old 
 writers a certain mixture of rusticity and folly." 
 
 Gifford's Note on Ben Jonson's Works, vol. i. p. 40. 
 
 Ten. 0, Master Monopoly, God save you ! 
 
 Mon. Amen ; for the last time I saw you, the 
 devil was at mine elbow in buff. What ! three 
 merry men,, and three merry men, and three 
 merry men* be we too. 
 
 Hon. How does my wife. Master Monopoly ? 
 
 Mon. Who? my overthwartt neighbour? — 
 passing well : — this is kindly done : Sir Gosling 
 is not far from you; we'll join our armies 
 presently; here be rare fields to walk in. — 
 Captain, rise; Captain Linstock, bestir your 
 stumps, for the Philistines are upon us. 
 
 [Biso.ppearg. 
 
 Ten. This Monopoly is an aiTant knave, a 
 cogging knave, for all he's a courtier : if Monopoly 
 be suffered to ride up and down with other men's 
 wives, he'll undo both city and country. 
 
 Elder Mistress Tenterhook, Mistress Honeysuckle, 
 and Mistress Wafer. 
 
 Just. Moll, mask thyself ; they shall not know 
 thee. 
 
 Mist. Ten., ) 
 
 Mist. Honey., \ ^°^ °°^' sweethearts ! what 
 
 Mist. Wafer.) '^'^^^°'^^^''^' 
 
 Wafer. Not that which you make here. 
 
 Ten. Marry, you make bulls of your husbands. 
 
 Mist. Ten. Buzzards, do we not? out, you 
 yellow infirmities ! do all flowers show in your 
 eyes like columbines ? 
 
 Wafer. Wife, what says the collier? is not thy 
 soul blacker than his coals ? how does the child ? 
 how does my flesh and blood, wife ? 
 
 Mist. Wafer. Tour flesh and blood is very well 
 recovered now, mouse. 
 
 Wafer. I know 'tis : the collier has a sa.ckful 
 of news to empty. 
 
 Ten. Clare, where be your two rings with 
 diamonds? 
 
 Mist. Ten. At hand, sir, here, with a wet finger. 
 
 Ten. I di-eamed you had lost 'em. — [Aside] 
 What a profane varlet is this shoulder-clapper, to 
 lie thus upon my wife and her rings ! 
 
 Enter MoxoroLY, Whiflpool, and Lln'Stock. 
 Mon., 
 Whirl., 
 Lin. 
 
 Save you, gentlemen ! 
 
 * three raei-ry inen, and three merry men, <L-c.] A frag- 
 ment of an old song. See my edition of Peele's Works, 
 vol. i. p. 20S, sec. ed. ; and the notes of the com- 
 mentatoi-s on Shakespeare's Tuelfth Night, act ii. sc. 3. 
 
 t overthzcarti Generally used for cross, contradictious 
 — but here it seems merely to mean ojiposite, as in The 
 Merry Devill of Edraonton, 1626 : "Body of Saint Georpre, 
 this is mine overthwart neighbour hath done this." 
 Sig. F 2. 
 
 ^ 
 
244 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Tm., \ 
 
 Honey., \ And you, and our wivea from you ! 
 
 Wafer. ) 
 
 Mon. Your wives bavo saved themselves, for 
 
 one. 
 
 Ten. Master Monopoly, though I meet you in 
 High Germany, 1 hope you can understiind broken 
 English; have you discharged your debtl 
 
 Mon. Yea, sir, with a double charge; your 
 harpy, that set his ten commandments upon my 
 back, ha<l two diamonds to save him harmless. 
 
 Ten. Of you, sir? 
 
 Aton. Me, sir : do you think there be no 
 diamond courtiers 1 
 
 Ten. Sergeant Ambush, issue forth I 
 
 Rr-riiter Asiursn. 
 
 Monopoly, I'll cut off your convoy. — Master 
 Sergeant Ambush, I charge you, as you hope to 
 receive comfort from the smell of mace, speak j 
 not like a sertjeant, but deal honestly : of whom I 
 hm'l you the diamonds ? 
 
 Amb. Of your wife, sir, if I'm an honest man. 
 
 3tiMt. Ten. Of me, you pewter-buttoned rascal ! 
 
 Hon. Sirndi, you that live by nothing but the 
 carrion of Poultry, — 
 
 ifut. Ten. Schoolmaster, hark hither. 
 
 Alon. Where are my gems and precious stones, 
 that were my bail 1 
 
 Amb. Forthconjing, sir, though your money is 
 not ; your creditor has 'em. 
 
 JumI. Kxcollcnt ! i>eace! — Why, Master Tenter- 
 hook, if tlie diamonds bo of the reported value, 
 I'll i»ay your money, receive 'em, keep 'em till 
 Mauler Monopoly bo fatter i' the purse ; — for, 
 Mortar Munu|>o1y, I know you will not be long 
 empty, Master Monopoly. 
 
 Hist. Ten. Ivct him have 'em, good Tenterhook : 
 wht-rn tut) they T 
 
 Ten, At homo; I looked 'em up. 
 
 I'„lrr MtirriiiJiit Uintiuiis. 
 No, iu'liM<d, forsouth, 1 lucked 'em up, 
 -lo mo tliuy your wife Iium, and tho»o iiiu 
 U.i> )..ur liunLwid. like a bad liver as he in. 
 w.iti' I li v. ^.iv.ii to a niece of mino, that lion in 
 '' t'»^«» phy«ic, to have conimittod 
 
 " II with hrr. 
 
 J'< 1 St your houao! you old 
 
 / 1 V .11, |M>r.ly; una that huuo«n bachelor : 
 old f.ir tho niAtter. 
 \t . .1 1....1 .. ,v..iniin, ho's my hunband, 
 ■ 1 urn At hiH doubli't. 
 iiowntly : Rud that loan 
 
 gentleman set in his staff there. But, as I'm a 
 sinner, both I and the young woman had an eye 
 to the main chance ; and though they brought 
 more about 'em than Captain Ca'ndish's voyage ♦ 
 came to, they should not, nor could not, unless 
 I had been a naughty woman, have entered the 
 straits. 
 
 MUt. Ten., \ 
 
 MUt. Honey., ,• Have we smelt you out, foxes? 
 
 Miit. Wafer. ) 
 
 Mist. Ten. Do you come after us with hue and 
 cry, when you are the thieves yoiirselves 1 
 
 Mist. Honey. Murder, I see, cannot be hid : but 
 if this old sibyl of youra speak oracles, for my 
 part, I'll be like an almanac that threatens nothing 
 but foul weather. 
 
 Ten. That bawd has been damned five hundred 
 times ; and is her word to be taken 1 
 
 Just. To bo damned once is enough for any one 
 of her coat. 
 
 Bird. Why, sir, what is my coat, that you sit 
 thus upon my skirts 1 
 
 Just. Thy coat is an ancient coat ; one of the 
 seven deadly sins put thy coat first to making: 
 but do you hear ? you mother of iniquity ! you 
 that can lose and find your ears when you list ! 
 go, sail with the rest of your bawdy traffickers to 
 the place of sixpenny sinfulness, the suburbs. 
 
 Bird. I scorn the sinfulness of any subui-bs in 
 Christendom : 'tis well known I have up-risers 
 and down-liers within the city, night by night, 
 like a profane fellow as thou art. 
 
 Just. Right, I know thou hast.— I'll tell you, 
 gentlefolks, there's more resort to this fortune- 
 teller, tiian of forlorn wives married to old 
 husbands, and of greeu-sickness wenches that 
 can get no husbands, to the house of a wise 
 woman : she has tricks to keep a vaulting-house 
 under the law's nose. 
 
 Bird, Thau dost the law's nose wron;^, to belie 
 roe so. 
 
 • Ciiplnin Can.li.'Ji', roy.r./,) Tlio imiiio ol Tlu.m:ia 
 CiivoixllHh (—who, (Kiilliiff fiMin riyinoiith in 158(1. with 
 tliroo limlj^nincaut vosscln. phmdcrod tho coaat of Now 
 Kpiilii and Pom, cnptiiro.l, olT t":ilifoini:i, n 8|wnl»h 
 ailniinil of sovoii iiiuidrod t.iiiH, mid hiivini? clroiim- 
 iiuvljfiitod tlio rIoIh). returned U) Kii({h»nd with n vory 
 liinio fortuiio, ill i:>KS— )lii fhj.iuontly iibbroviiitod by our 
 old wrilont; no lli'uinu; 
 
 •' OiH-^*/, itud lliiwkliiH, Furblahor. nil our voyfttrors. 
 Wout iiliort of Maiiilovilo." 
 
 Tilt AntiimHf», 1(H0, 8lg. C 3. 
 Tht« ooiitrsotion ia ncarco yot out of uao ; 
 " \\'\w\\ Chiit^woilli U\>Mo% no fh'ti./ijiA bounties, 
 1.01 r»ino foi^.t thlh iMwtly oountosa." 
 
 Kl'lUph by Ilonico Walpolo, in lilii UU(r> to 
 Monla^/u, p. a07. 
 
SCENE IV. 
 
 WESTWARD HO. 
 
 245 
 
 Just. For either a cunning woman has a 
 chamber in her house, or a physician, or a picture- 
 maker, or an attorney, because all these are good 
 cloaks for the rain. And then, if the female 
 party that's cliented above-stairs be young, she's 
 a squire's daughter of low degree, that lies there 
 for physic, or comes up to be placed with a 
 countess.; if of middle age, she's a widow, and 
 has suits at tlie term or so. 
 
 Mist. Honey. 0, fie upon her ! burn the witch 
 out of our company. 
 
 Mist. Ten. Let's hem her out of Brainford, if 
 she get not the faster to London. 
 
 Mist. Wafer. 0, no, for God's sake ! rather hem 
 her out of London, and let her keep in Brainford 
 still. 
 
 Bird. No, you cannot hem me out of London. 
 — Had I known this, yom' rings should ha' been 
 poxed ere I would ha' touched 'em. I will take 
 a pair of oars and leave you. \_Exit. 
 
 Just. Let that ruin of intemperance be raked 
 up in dust and ashes. And now tell me, if you 
 had raised the town, had not the tiles tumbled 
 upon your heads? for you see your wives are 
 chaste, these gentlemen civil; all is but a 
 merriment, all but a May-game : she has her 
 diamonds, you shall have your money ; the child 
 is recovered, the false collier discovered; they 
 came to Brainford to be merry ; you were caught 
 in Bird-lime : and therefore set the hare's-head 
 against the goose-giblets,* put all instruments in 
 tune, and every husband play music upon the 
 lips of his wife, whilst I begin first. 
 
 Ten., \ 
 
 Honey, > Come, wenches ; be't so. 
 
 Wafer. ) 
 
 * set the hare's-kead against the goose-giblets'] A pro- 
 verbial expression, signifying to balance things, to set 
 one against another : compare Field's Amends for Ladies, 
 Sig. B 3, ed. 1639 ; and Middleton's A Trick to catch the 
 old one, — Works, ii. 78, ed. Dyce. Sometimes it occurs 
 with a slight variation : "set the Hare Pye against the 
 Goose giblets." Rowley's Match at ilidnight, 1633, 
 Sig. I 2. " Ide set mine olde debts against my new 
 driblets, and the hare's foot against the goose giblets." 
 Dekker's Shoemakers Holiday, 1600, Sig. C. 
 
 Mist. Ten. Mistress Justiniauo, is't you were 
 ashamed all this while of showing your face ? — 
 Is she your wife, schoolmaster ] 
 
 Just. Look you, your schoolmaster has been in 
 France, and lost his hair ; * no more Parenthesis 
 now, but Justiniano : I will now play the merchant 
 with you. Look not strange at her, nor at me : 
 the story of us both shall be as good as an old 
 wife's tale, to cut off our way to London. 
 
 Enter Chamberlain. 
 How now ! 
 
 Cham. Alas, sir, the knight yonder, Sir Gosling, 
 has almost his throat cut by poulterers and towns- 
 men and rascals; and all the noise that went 
 with him, poor fellows, have their fiddle-cases 
 pulled over their ears. 
 
 Omnes. Is Sir Gosling hurt 1 
 
 Cham. Not much hurt, sir[s] ; but ho bleeds 
 like a pig, for his crown's cracked. 
 
 Mist. Honey. Then has he been twice cut i' the 
 head since we landed, once with a pottle-pot, and 
 now with old iron. 
 
 Just. Gentlemen, hasten to his rescue some, 
 whilst others call for oars. 
 
 Omnes. Away, then, to London. 
 
 Just. Farewell, Brainford. 
 
 Gold that buys health can never be ill spent. 
 Nor hours laid out in harmless meri'iment. 
 
 SONG. 
 Oars, oars, oars, oars ! 
 To London, hey ! to London, hey ! 
 Hoist up sails, and let's away ; 
 
 For the safest bay 
 For us to laud is London shores. 
 Oars, oars, oars, oars ! 
 Quickly shall we get to land, 
 If you, if you, if you 
 Lend us but half a hand : 
 O, lend us half a hand ! 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 * Look you, your schoolmaster has been in France, and, 
 lost his hair] Here we must suppose Justiniano to piiU 
 off the false hair which assisted his disguise : he alludes 
 to the effects of the venereal, or, as it was called, the 
 French disease. 
 
NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 Norfh-ward Hoe. Sundr;/ times Acted by the Children of Paules. By nomas Decker, and John Welster. Lnprinied 
 at London by G. Eld. 1607. 4to. 
 
 Concerning the origin of the title of this comedy, see the prefatory remarks to the preceding play. 
 
DHAMATIS PERSON/E. 
 
 Matbekrt. 
 Ukli.amont. 
 
 riiiLii-. 
 
 (iKf l:SSIIIKLt>. 
 
 FmTIIKIWToNE. 
 
 I.KVCKliKlL. 
 
 fiiAini.Ey. 
 
 llonsirr. 
 
 Hans Van Belch. 
 
 Al.I.L'M. 
 
 Captain Jkskiss. 
 
 I.tAPFI'-OO. 
 t-<Jt IIIKKI. 
 
 CliaiiilM:rIaiii, 
 
 rruiitico. 
 
 Tailor. 
 
 Muslcittii, ScrgxsanU, Keepers, Fiddlers, Tapsters, Servants. 
 
 MlBTIlEHH HaYBEURY 
 
 Katb. 
 
 Don. 
 Ilawd. 
 
 II > • 
 
 M 
 
NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE I.* 
 Siiter Greenshield and Feathekston'e, booted. 
 
 Feath. Art sure old Mayberry inns here to- 
 night ? 
 
 Green. 'Tis certain : the honest knave cham- 
 berlain, that hath been my informer, my bawd, 
 ever since I knew Ware, assm-es me of it; and 
 moi'e, being a Londoner, though altogether un- 
 acquainted, I have requested his company at 
 supper. 
 
 Feath. Excellent occasion ! how we shall carry 
 oui'selves in this business is only to be thought 
 upon. 
 
 Green. Be that my undertaking : if I do not 
 take a full revenge of his wife's puritanical 
 coyness ! 
 
 Feath. Suppose it she should be chaste ? 
 
 Green, 0, hang her ! this art of seeming honest 
 makes many of our young sons and heirs in the 
 city look so like our prentices. — Chamberlain ! 
 
 Enter Ctamberlaiu. 
 
 Cham. Here, sir. 
 
 Green. This honest knave is called Innocence : 
 is't not a good name for a chamberlain? He dwelt 
 at Dunstable not long since, and hath brought 
 me and the two butcher's daughters thei'e to 
 interview twenty times, and not so little, I 
 protest. — How chance you left Dunstable, sirrah ? 
 
 Cham. Faith, sir, the town drooped ever since 
 the peace in Ireland. Your captains were wont 
 to take their leaves of their London pole-cats 
 (their wenches I mean, sir,) at Dunstable : the 
 next morning, when they had broke their fast 
 together, the wenches brought them to Hockley- 
 i'-the-Hole; and so the one for London, the other 
 
 * Scerie /.] "Ware. A room in an inn. 
 
 for West-Chester.* Your only road now, sir, is 
 York, Yoi-k, sir. 
 
 Green. True; but yet it comes scant of the 
 pi'ophecy, — Lincoln was, London is, and York 
 shall be, 
 
 Cham. Yes, sir, 'tis fulfilled; York shall be, 
 that is, it shall be York still : surely, it was the 
 meaning of the prophet. — Will you have some 
 cray-fish and a spitchcock ] 
 
 Feath. And a fat trout. 
 
 Cham. You shall, sir. — The Londoners you 
 wot of. {Exit. 
 
 Enter Matberrt and BELL.4.iioxT. 
 
 Green. Most kindly welcome : I beseech you 
 hold our boldness excused, sir. 
 
 Bell. Sir, it is the health of travellers to enjoy 
 good company : will you walk ] 
 
 Feath. Whither travel you, I beseech you ] 
 
 May. To London, sir : we came from Sturbridge. 
 
 Bdl. I tell you, gentlemen, I have observed 
 very much with being at Sturbridge ; i" it hath 
 
 * West-Chesterl On their way to Ireland: "My refuge 
 is Ireland or Virginia ; necessity cries out, and I will 
 presently to Wesichexter." Cook's Green's Tu Quoque, Sig. 
 B, ed. 1622. " Hee came into Ireland, where at Dubblin 
 hee was strucke lame ; but recovering new strength and 
 courage, hee ship'd himselfe for England, landed at West- 
 Chester, whence taking poste towards London, hee 
 lodg'd at Hockley in the Hole, in his way," &;c. Taylor 
 the water poet's Praii^e of cleane Linnen, — TVorls, 1630, 
 p. 170. It may perhaps be necessary to add, that the 
 ancient city of Chester is called J('t.<< Chester, from its 
 relative situation, to distinguish it from several other 
 towns which bear the name of Chester with some 
 addition. 
 
 t / have observed very much 'with being at Sturbridge'] 
 Sturbridge fair, from wliich our two travellers are just 
 come, is mentioned by old Skelton; 
 " And syUogisari was drowned at Sturbrydge fayre." 
 
 Spd-f, Parrot,— Works, ii. 0, ed. Dyce. 
 And it was resorted to both for business and pleasure 
 
250 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 afforded me ^irth beyond the length of five 
 Latin comedies. Here Bhould you meet a Norfolk 
 yeoman full-butt, with LIb head able to overturn 
 you, and his pretty wife, that followed him, 
 ready to excuse the ignorant hardness of her 
 husband's forehead ; in the pooseuiarket number 
 of freshmen, stuck here and there with a graduate, 
 like cloves with great lieads in a gammon of bacon ; 
 here two gentlemen making a marriage between 
 their heirs over a wooljiack ; there a minister's 
 wife that could Mpeak false Latin very lispingly ; 
 here two in one comer of a shop, Londoners, 
 •elllng tlieir wares, and other gentlemen court- 
 ing their wives ; where they take up petti- 
 ooats, you should find scholars and town's- 
 men's wives crowding together, while their 
 huiibanda were in another market busy amongst 
 Uio oxen ; — 'twas like a camp, for in other 
 countries so many punks do not follow an 
 army : I could miiko an excellent description of 
 it in a comedy. — But whither are you travelling, 
 gentlemen 1 
 
 Feath. Faith, sir, we purposed a dangerous 
 Toyage; but ujwn better consideration we altered 
 our ooursc. 
 
 May. May we without offence partake the 
 gruund of it f 
 
 Orttn. 'Ti* altogether trivial, in sooth ; but, to 
 paM away the time till Bui)per, I'll deliver it to 
 you, with prote«tation before hatid, I seek not to 
 publish ever)' gentlewoman's disiionour, only by 
 the paange of my discourse to have you censure * 
 Um state of our <iuarrel. 
 
 ML F<,rth, sir. 
 
 Urten. Frequenting the company of many mcr- 
 chkuU' wives in the city, my heart by liuujce 
 leaiHxl bto miuo eye to afffct the fairest, but 
 willial the fahtest, creature that ever affection 
 •to<i|ied to. 
 
 i/«y. Of what rank waa she, I hoHoeeh you ? 
 
 F<alk. L'|Mjn your promise of suerecy ? 
 
 Mt. You sliitll close it up like trt>asuro of 
 
 ■•^l. Nod Wunl 
 I A MTrv to Slir- 
 
 ' ...I, 
 
 I tti !>«(■«'• iumr rAroNfA 
 
 .d. \U-I: "U U not only." 
 
 t I thUik 
 
 ■ity, tlio 
 
 i '■ Nurcin- 
 
 •H. »n«tarf "iV wajr oatn|«ml*ta ti> UiU 
 
 your own, and yourself ehall keep the key 
 of if 
 
 Orun. She waa, and by report still is, wife to 
 a most grave and well-reputed citizen. 
 May. And entertained your love ] 
 Green, As meadows do April. The violence, a- 
 it seemed, of her affection — but, alas, it proven 
 her dissembling — would, at my coming and de 
 parting, bedew her eyes with love-drops: 0, she 
 could t the art of woman most feelingly ! 
 BcU. Most feelingly ! 
 
 May. I should not have liked that feelingly, 
 had she been my wife. — Give us some pack, here ! 
 — and, in faith, — wo are all friends, and in private, 
 — what was her husband's name ? — I'll give you a 
 carouse by and by. 
 
 Green. 0, you shall pardon me his name : it 
 seems you are a citizen ; it would be discourse 
 enough for you upon the Exchange this fortnight, 
 shoxUd I tell his name. 
 
 Bell. Your modesty in this wife's conuuenda- 
 tion ! — On, sir. 
 
 Green. In the passage of our loves, amongst 
 other favours of greater value, she bestowed upon 
 me this ring, which, she protested, was her hus- 
 band's gift 
 
 May. The posy, the posy ?— [^«(/t] my 
 heart ! that ring 1 — Good, in faith. 
 
 Green. Not many nights coming to her, and 
 
 being familiar with her,- 
 
 May. Kissing, and so forth ? 
 Green. Ay, sir. 
 
 May. And talking to her feelingly ? 
 Green. Pox on't, I lay with her. 
 May. Good, in faith ; you are of a good com- 
 plexion. 
 
 Green. Lying with her, as I saj-, and rising 
 somewhat early from her in the nioruiug, I lost 
 this ring in her bed. 
 
 May. [oiide] In my wife's bed! 
 Feath. How do you, sir? 
 
 May. Nothing.— Let's liave a fire, chamberlain ! 
 — I think my boots have taken water, I have such 
 a shuddering.— r the bed, you say? 
 
 Grren. Hight, sir, in JIinf ress Mayberrj'*8 sheets. 
 May. Was her name Muyberi-y ? 
 Greai. lieslirow my tong\io for blabbing ! I 
 preauiao upon your secrecy. 
 
 • an.l jwtrt^ «A,.H Irrj, the Ir^ nf U] From Miuko- 
 »|icBro ; 
 
 " Tin In roy memory look'd. 
 Jn>( you jiourflf ,),„U krrji tht kxjKifil." 
 
 Ilamirt, not 1. no. ;i. 
 t eouU] 1, 0. know, undcmtocKi. 
 
SCENE I. 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 251 
 
 Yes. 
 
 May. God, sir ! but where did you find your 
 losiag 1 
 
 Green. AVhere I found her falseness, — with this 
 gentleman, who, by his own confession, partaking 
 the like enjoyment, found this ring the same 
 morning on her pillow, and shamed not in my 
 sight to wear it. 
 
 May. What, did she talk feelingly to him too ? 
 I warrant, her husband was forth o' town all this 
 while; and he, poor man, travelled with hard 
 eggs in's pocket, to save the charge of a bait, 
 whilst she was at home with her plovers, turkey, 
 chickens. Do you know that Mayberry? 
 
 Feath. No more than by name. 
 
 May. He's a wondrous honest man. — Let's be 
 meriy. — Will not your mistress — gentlemen, you 
 are tenants in common, I take it] — 
 
 Feath., 
 
 Green. 
 
 May. Will not your mistress make much of her 
 husband when he comes home, as if no such 
 legerdemain had been acted 1 
 
 Green. Yes, she hath reason for't : for in some 
 countries, where men and women have good 
 travelling stomachs, they begin with porridge; 
 then they fall to capon or so forth ; but if capon 
 come short of filling their bellies, to their porridge 
 again, 'tis their only course : so for our women in 
 England. 
 
 May. This, with taking of long journeys, kindred 
 that comes in o'er the hatch, and sailing to 
 Westminster, makes a number of cuckolds. 
 
 Bdl. Fie, what an idle quarrel is this ! Was 
 this her ring ? 
 
 Green. Her ring, sir. 
 
 May. A pretty idle toy : would you would take 
 
 money for't ! 
 
 Feath., ) . . . , 
 
 ^ > Money, sir ! 
 
 Green. ) "" 
 
 May. The more I look on't, the more I like it. 
 
 Bell. Troth, 'tis of no great value ; and con- 
 sidering the loss and finding of this ring made 
 breach into your friendship, gentlemen, with this 
 trifle purchase his love : I can tell you he keeps a 
 good table. 
 
 Green. What, my mistress' gift ! 
 
 Feath. Faith, you are a merry old gentleman ; 
 I'll give you my part in't. 
 
 Green. Troth, and mine, with your promise to 
 conceal it from her husband. 
 
 May. Doth he know of it yet 1 
 
 Green. No, sir. 
 
 May. He shall never, then, I protest : look you, 
 this ring doth fit me passing well. 
 
 Feath. I am glad we have fitted you. 
 
 May. This walking is wholesome : I was a-cold 
 even now ; now I sweat for't. 
 
 Feath. Shall's walk into the garden, Luke ? — 
 Gentlemen, we'll down and hasten supper. 
 
 3Iay. Look you, we must be better acquainted, 
 that's all. 
 
 Green. Most willingly.— [.4 side to Feath.] Ex- 
 cellent! he's heat to the proof: let's withdraw, 
 and give him leave to rave a little. 
 
 [Exeunt Gkeexshield and Featherstonk. 
 
 3Iay. Chamberlain, give us a clean towel ! 
 
 Re-enter Chamberlain with towel. 
 
 BeU. How now, man ! 
 
 May. I am foolish old Mayberry, and yet I can 
 be wise Mayberry too : I'll to London presently. — 
 Be gone, sir. {Exit Chamberlain. 
 
 Bell. How, how ! 
 
 May. Nay, nay, God's precious, you do mistake 
 me. Master Bellamont : I am not distempered ; for 
 to know a man's wife is a whore, is to be resolved 
 of it; and to be resolved of it, is to make no 
 question of it ; and when a case is out of ques- 
 tion, — what was I saying ? 
 
 BeU. Why, look you, what a distraction ai-e you 
 fallen into ! 
 
 May. If a man be divorced, do you see, divorced 
 forma juris, whether may he have an action or no 
 'gainst those that make horns at him 1 
 
 BeU. madness ! that the frailty of a woman 
 should make a wise man thus idle ! Yet, I protest, 
 to my imderstanding, this report seems as far 
 from truth as you from patience. 
 
 May. Then am I a fool ; yet I can be wise, an 
 I list, too : what says my wedding-ring 1 
 
 BeU. Indeed, that breeds some suspicion : for 
 the rest, most gross and open ; for two men both 
 to love your wife, both to enjoy her bed, and to 
 meet you as if by miracle, and, not knowing you, 
 upon no occasion in the world, to thmst upon 
 you a discourse of a quarrel, with circumstance 
 so dishonest, that not any gentleman but of the 
 country blushing would have published, ay, and 
 to name you. Do you know them ? 
 
 May. Faith, now I remember, I have seen them 
 walk muffled by my shop. 
 
 Bell. Like enough : pray God they do not 
 borrow money of us 'twixt Ware and London ! 
 Come, strive to blow over these clouds. 
 
 May. Not a cloud; you shall have clean moon- 
 shine. They have good smooth looks, the fellows. 
 
 Bell. As jet : they will take up, I warrant you, 
 where they may be trusted. Will you be merry ? 
 
NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 May. Wondrous merry : — let's have some sack 
 to drown this cuckold ; down with him ! — won- 
 drous merry. One wonl and no more ; I am but 
 a foolish tradesman, and yet I'll be a wise tradcs- 
 num. [Excmit. 
 
 SCKNE II.* 
 
 liutrr ix.i.i, ('•' Uttnm Leviwocii, au-l C'liAiiTurY; afUr 
 
 iMm, riiiui- arrtttal, ami ScrgoauU. 
 
 Philip. Arrcttt me ! at whose suitl — Tom Cliart- 
 Icy, l>ick Ijcveq>ool, sUiy ; I'm arrested. 
 Charl., Lever., Dull. Arrested ! 
 
 /Vr«/ Sery. Gentlemen, break not the head of 
 the jicacc: it's to uo purpose, for he's in the law's 
 clutclicg ; you see he's fanged. 
 
 iKll. Ud's life, do you stand with your naked 
 weaiK)us in your hand, and do nothing with 'em ? 
 Put one of 'cm into my fingers, I'll tickle the 
 pimplc-uosed varlets. 
 
 PhiL Hold, Doll. — Thrust not a weapon upon 
 a mad woman. — Oftieers, step back into the tavern : 
 you might ha' ta'en me i' the street, and not i' the 
 tavern-entry, you cannibals. 
 
 See. Sertj. Wo <lid it for your credit, sir. 
 
 Chart. How much is the debt ?— Drawer, some 
 wine I 
 
 EnUr Drawer v'Uh vine. 
 
 Pint Serg. Fourscore pound. — Can you send for 
 bail, sirl or what will you dol wo cannot stay. 
 
 IML You cannot, you pasty-footed rascals ! you 
 will slay one day in hell. 
 
 Phtl. Fourscore pounds draws deep. — Farewell, 
 Doll.— Como, Kerjiennts, 111 htep to mine imclo 
 Dot far off, hereby in I'udding lano, and lie shiUl 
 ball m*.— if not, Churlloy, you shall find mo 
 P'".^ ' 'untert : —and so, farewell : send 
 
 me I- I. 
 
 Ptrgi .viy. Have an eye to Iiih hands. 
 
 S«:. .Sry. Httve tiu eye to bin logs. 
 
 I Kituni I'liMji' and UoiBeaiits. 
 
 /^^Z I'm as melancholy now! 
 
 CkaH. ViIUmous, spitoful hick! I'll hold my 
 life, Mmt« of UioM sttuey <lrawoiii betrayed him. 
 
 iMitf. We. sir I no, by ga-l, sir, wo scorn to 
 huta a Judas iu our company. 
 
 I^tr No. no ; ho WON dogged in : this is the 
 
 •I.B niid of ftii wliorem to fall into 
 Ml lu a tavern. 
 
 the hands of knaves. — Drawer, tie my shoe, 
 prithee; the now knot, as thou seest this. — 
 Philip is a good honest gentleman : I love hiiu 
 because he'll spend ; but when I saw him on his 
 father's hobby, and a brace of punks following 
 him in a coach, I told him he would run out. — 
 Hast done, boy? 
 
 Draw. Yes, forsooth : by my troth, you have a 
 dainty leg. 
 
 Doll. How now, goodman rogue ! 
 Draw. Nay, sweet Mistress Doll. 
 Doll. Doll ! you reprobate ! out, you bawd for 
 seven years by the custom of the city ! 
 I Draw. Good Mistress Dorothy, the pox take 
 ' me, if I touched youi- leg but to a good intent. 
 Doll. Prato you? — The rotten-toothed i-ascid 
 will for sixpence fetch any whore to his master's 
 , cu3tomei"s : — and is every one that swims in a 
 I tafi"eta gown lettuce for your lips? Ud's life, this is 
 rare, that gentlewomen and drawers must suck at 
 ! one spiggot. Do you laugh, you unseasonable 
 
 puckfist 1 • do you grin ? 
 , Chart. Away, drawer ! — Hold, prithee, good 
 rogue ; hold, my sweet Doll : a pox o' this 
 swaggering ! \^Exit Drawer. 
 
 Doll. Pox o' your guts, your kidneys ! mew, 
 hang ye, rook ! — I'm as melancholy now as Fleet- 
 street in a long vacation. 
 
 Lever. Melancholy ! come, we'll ha' some 
 mulled sack. 
 
 Doll. When begins the term? 
 Chart. Why, hast any suits to bo tried at 
 Westminster ? 
 
 Doll. My suits, you base ruffian, have been 
 tried at Westminster ali'eudy. So soon as ever 
 the term begins, I'll change my lodging; itstiuuls 
 out o* the way : I'll lie about Charing-cross, for 
 if there bo any stirrings, there wc shall have 
 'em; or if some Dutchman would como fiviu 
 the States— O, these Flemings pay soundly for 
 what they take. 
 
 Le\'er. If thou't havo a lodging westwanl, Doll, 
 I'll fit thee. 
 
 Doll. At Tyburn, will yon not? a lodging of 
 your providing I to bo ciUlcd a lieutenant's or a 
 captain's wench I O, I scorn to bo one of your 
 Low-country commodities, I ! Is this boily made 
 to bo maintniiieil with provant and dead pay?t 
 
 • j.uf^rtjrfj Tbl« wonl, uiieil oflon by our old wi iU>ni in 
 
 tlio •iiiM of an cinjtty, lunitfiiinosnt follow, nioHiit 
 
 orlBlimllv Ik iiort of fiii>K>i« : "nU tlio milloU iiro turn'.l (o 
 
 ■. mill I'ucl^rUis." IloywoiKl imd 
 
 ' . , ii.u) "J'roiuint" Is— pnivondor. 
 
 mlliUry altuwaiiN : lor " dtad jmy," so« uotu •. p. 170. 
 
SCENE in. 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 253 
 
 ao; the mercer must be paid, and satin gowns 
 must be ta'en up. 
 
 Chart. And gallon pots must be tumbled down. 
 
 Doll. Stay; I have had a plot a-breeding in 
 my brains — Are all the quest-houses broken up 1* 
 
 Lever. Yes, long since : what then ? 
 
 Doll. ^Miat then ! marry, then is the wind 
 come about, and so + those poor wenches, that 
 before Christmas fled westward with bag and 
 baggage, come now sailing alongst the lee shore 
 •with a northerly wind ; and we that had war- 
 rants to lie without the liberties come now 
 dropping into the freedom by owl-light sneak- 
 ingly. 
 
 Chart. But, Doll, what's the plot thou spakest 
 of? 
 
 Doll. Marry, this. Gentlemen, and tobacco- 
 stinkers, and such-like, are still buzzing where 
 sweet-meats are, like flies ; but they make auy 
 flesh stink that they blow upon : I will leave 
 those fellows, therefore, in the hands of their 
 laundresses. Silver is the king's stamp, man 
 God's stamp, and a woman is man's stamp ; we 
 are not current till we pass from one man to 
 another. 
 
 Chart. \ ^'erygood. 
 
 Doll. I will, therefore, take a fair house in the 
 city ; no matter though it be a tavern that has 
 blown up his master ; it shall be in trade still, 
 for I know divers tavei'ns i' the town that have 
 but a wall between them and a hot-house.J It 
 shall then be given out that I'm a gentlewoman 
 of such a birth, such a wealth, have had such a 
 breeding, and so forth, and of such a carriage, 
 
 * Are all the quest-houses broken v.p ?] About Christmas, 
 I believe, the aldermen and citizens of each ward in the 
 city, used to hold a quest to inquire concerning jnisde- 
 meauours and annoyances, brothels, (fcc. Qw.st-housei 
 were the houses where the quest was held, and which 
 were usually the chief watchhoiisos. Doll, in her next 
 speech, alludes to the shifts made by the ladies when 
 driven out of the city, and their private retiim when 
 they no longer feared the quest. 
 
 From a passage in one of Sliddleton's plays it appears 
 that gaming was sometimes carried on there : " Such a 
 day I lost fifty pound in hugger-mugger at dice, at the 
 qvAst-house." Any thing for a quiet life, — Works, iv. 425, 
 ed. Dyce. , 
 
 Quest-hoVrSes generally adjoined chui'ches. "But you 
 may say, it is like a farthing candle in a great church : 
 I answer, that light will not euhghten the by-chapels of 
 the church, nor the qiuiM-house, nor the belfry ; neither 
 doth the light move the church, though it euUghtens 
 it." Philosophical Letters by the Duchess of Newcastle, 
 1664, p. 189. 
 t so] The old ed. "for." 
 X a hot-house] See note f, p. 209. 
 
 and such qualities, and so forth : to set it off the 
 better, old Jack Hornet shall take upon him to 
 be my father. 
 
 Lever. Excellent ! with a chain about his neck, 
 and so forth. 
 
 Doll. For that Saint Martin's and we ^vill talk.* 
 I know we shall have gudgeons bite presently ; 
 if they do, boys, you shall live like knights' 
 fellows : as occasion serves, you shall wear 
 liveries and wait ; but when gulls are my wind- 
 falls, you shall be gentlemen and keep them 
 company. Seek out Jack Hornet incontinently. 
 
 Lever. "We will. — Come, Chartley. — We'll play 
 our parts, I waiTant. 
 
 Doll. Do so. 
 The world's a stage, from which strange shapes 
 
 we borrow ; 
 To-day we are honest, and rank knaves to- 
 morrow. [Exeutif. 
 
 SCENE Hit 
 STiter Matbeert, Bell.\moxt, and a Prentice. 
 
 May. Where is your mistress, villain 1 when 
 went she abroad '] 
 
 Pren. Abroad, sir ! why, as soon as she was up, 
 sir. 
 
 May. Up, sir, down, sir ! so, sir. — Master 
 Bellamont, I will tell you a strange secret in 
 nature ; this boy is my wife's bawd. 
 
 Bell. 0, fie, sir, fie ! the boy, he does not look 
 like a bawd ; he has no double chin. J 
 
 Pren. No, sir ; nor my breath does not stink, 
 I smell not of garlic or aqua-vitae : I use not to 
 be drunk with sack and sugar ; I swear not, 
 " God damn me, if I know where the party is," 
 when 'tis a lie and I do know : I was never 
 carted, but in harvest ; never whipt, but at 
 school ; never had the gi-incomes ; § never sold 
 one maidenhead ten several times, first to an 
 
 * with a chain about his neck ... For that Saint 
 Martin's and we will talk] So Brathwait : 
 
 " By this hee travells to Saint Martins lane. 
 And to the shops he goes to buy a chaine." 
 
 The Honest Ghost, &c., 1658, p. 167. 
 t Scene III.] The same. A room in the house of May- 
 berry. 
 
 \ dovMe chin] The characteristic of a bawd, according 
 to many of our old dramatists : 
 
 " The bawds will be so fat with what they earn. 
 Their cliins will hang like udders, by Easter-eve." 
 Jliddleton's Chaste Maid in Cheapside, — Works, 
 iv. 32, ed. Dyce. 
 § grinconus] Or crincovaes, a cant term for the venereal 
 disease: "Grinkcomes," says Taylor, the water poot, 
 "is an Utopian word, which is in English a P. at Paris." 
 Works, 1G30, p. 111. , ,^ , 
 
264 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 ACT 
 
 EnglUbman, then to a WeUhnum, then to a 
 Dutchman, then to a i>ocky Frcuchman : I hopo, 
 air, I am no bawd, then. 
 
 May. Thou art a baboon, and boldest mc with 
 tricks, whilst my wife gniftK, grafts. 'Away, 
 trudge, run, Bcarch her out by land and by 
 water. 
 
 Pretu Well, sir, the land I'll ferret, and, after 
 that, I'll search her by water, for it may be she's 
 gone to Brainford. 
 
 if ay. Inquire at one of mine aunb).* 
 
 Btll. One of your aunts ! are you mad ? 
 
 Afay. Yea, as many of the twelve companies 
 are, — troubled, troubled. [Exit Prentice. 
 
 B^l. I'll chide you ; go to, I'll chide you 
 •ouudly. 
 
 May. Master Bellamont i 
 
 Bell. Master Mayberry ! before your servant 
 to dance a I>ancashire hornpipe ! it shows worse 
 to iu«« than dancing docs to a deaf man that sees 
 not tiie fiddles : 'sfoot, you tidk like a player. 
 
 May. If a player talk like a madman, or a fool, 
 or an aw, and knows not what ho talks, then I'm 
 one. You arc a poet, Ma.ster IJellamont; I will 
 b««tow a piece of plate upon you to bring my 
 wife upon the stage : would not her humour 
 pleaao gentlemen 1 
 
 PelL I think it would- Yours would make 
 gentlemen u fat aa fools : I would give two pieces 
 of plate to hare you stand by mo when I were 
 to writ« a jri4li>u8 man'ii part. Jealous men arc 
 either knavM or ooxconibrt ; \hs you neither : you 
 w«sar yellow hose without cauHO. 
 
 May. Without oause, when my marc boars 
 double ! without cause ! 
 
 lifiJ And without wit. 
 
 May. When two virginal-jacknt hkip up, aa the 
 key of ujy iiiatminont goes down ! — 
 
 JteU. Tboy are two wicked eldera. 
 
 May. When my wife's ring does smoke for't I 
 
 lUil. Your wifu'a ring may deoeive you. 
 
 May () Maater Ilellautout ! ha>l it not been 
 my wifo h«<l ma<le m«i a cuckold, it should never 
 lu»o gilovml tiio. 
 
 /Mi. Villi wrung hor, up..n my soul. 
 
 i/9f. No, Mho wrong* mo u|Kjn hor bo<ly. 
 
 o« rwvton nf i,\,\ piur, rc^ulrB tr. he told 
 
 1 • 
 
 * 
 
 r. ■ 
 111 
 
 .not. 
 
 - ., „. ,..,., „, ,-,ri iMf «!<■; 
 
 ■ U Uto ■Irlui, tbo •otiiid «N»ii*lli." 
 
 !• i», |l IV 
 
 Snier a Scrvingman. 
 
 Jkll. Now, blue-bottle ? * what flutter you for, 
 sea-pie ? 
 
 Serv. Not to catch fish, sir : my young master, 
 your son, Maater Philip, b taken prisoner. 
 
 Bdl. By the Dunkirk8?t 
 
 f>erv. Worse ; by catchpolls^ he's encountered. 
 
 Bell. Shall I never see that prodigal coma 
 home ? 
 
 Serv. Yes, sir, if you'll fetch him out, you may 
 kill a calf for him. 
 
 Bell. For how much lies he ? 
 
 Serv. The debt is four-score pound : marry, he 
 charged me to tell you it was four -score and ten, 
 60 that he lies only for the odd ten pound. 
 
 Bell. His child's part§ shall now be paid : this 
 money shall be his last, and this vexation the 
 last of mine. — If you had such a son, Master 
 Mayberry ! 
 
 May. To such a wife ; 'twere an excellent 
 couple. 
 
 Bell, [giving money to Serv.] Release him, and 
 release me of much sorrow : I will buy a son no 
 more : go, redeem him. [£xi^ Servingman. 
 
 Re-enter Prentice Kith Mistress M.wuehiiv. 
 Pren. Here's the party, sir. 
 May. Hence, and lock fast the doors : now is 
 
 my prize. 
 
 Pren. [aiidc] If she beat you not at your own 
 
 weapon, would her buckler were cleft in two 
 
 pieces ! [Exit, 
 
 Bell. I will not have you handle her too 
 
 roughly. 
 May. No, I will, like a justice of peace, 
 grow to the point. — Are not you a whore? never 
 start ; thou art a cloth-worker, and hast turned 
 me — 
 
 A/i4f. May. How, sir ! into what, sir, have I 
 
 tnm'd you ? 
 May. Into a civil suit, into a sober boast, a 
 land-rat, a cuckold : thou art a common bed- 
 fellow ; art not, art not ? 
 
 • blur tM>iUr\ Uliio was tlio colour uaimlly worn l>y 
 •ervniitN of tho tiiuo. 
 f 7>unX-irl'«] I. e. privntoors of Punklrk. 
 t bj/ ctUfhptilU *«•■» fHfnunliml] 8o Sir John ItariiiKloii ; 
 " Till at tho lojit two mtch-i>ott* Aim rucouiitrr." 
 
 Kyiffnim 1>1>, lU»k il. 
 f lilt (-AiM'< ;xirt] Ciini|<nro Iloywooii ; 
 "Uut|>utiil thoin (nionoyii| to Incroiuio, whore in iiliort 
 time 
 Tlmy ifniw a fhll<rt /xirf, or a dnuRhtor'ii portion." 
 
 The Pair Maul nf tht RxtSanfff, l'W7, Sljj. I) ;l. 
 Anil Tht fatnou* IhMnrjir o/ Thomaji Sldrlf/, Irt<l.'>; 
 •• Nut •.! •lok. air. but I h<i|io to havo « cAiV<r* /Kirf l>y 
 your lout will mill to«Ument." 8l(j. 3. 
 
SCENE in. 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 255 
 
 Mist. May. Sii-, this language 
 To me is strange ; I understand it not. 
 
 May. 0, you study the French now. 
 
 Mist. May. Good sir, lend me patience. 
 
 May. I made a sallad of that herb :* dost see 
 these flesh-hooks ] I could tear out those false 
 eyes, those cat's eyes, that can see in the night ; 
 punk, I could. 
 
 Bell. Hear her answer for herself. 
 
 Mist. May. Good Master Bellamont, 
 Let him not do me violence. — Dear su'. 
 Should any but yourself shoot out these names, 
 I would put off all female modesty, 
 To be reveng'd on him. 
 
 May. Know'st thou this ring ? 
 There has been old running at the ringf since I 
 went. 
 
 Mist. May. Yes, sir, this ring is mine : he was 
 a villain 
 That stole it from my hand ; he was a villain 
 That put it into yours. 
 
 May. They were no villains 
 When they stood stoutly for me, took your part. 
 And, 'stead of colours, fought under my sheets. 
 
 Mist. May. I know not what you mean . 
 
 May. They lay with thee : 
 I mean plain dealing. 
 
 Mist. May. With me ! if ever I had thought 
 unclean, 
 In detestation of your nuptial pillow. 
 Let sulphur drop from heaven, and nail my body 
 Dead to this earth ! That slave, that damned Fury, 
 Whose whips are in your tongue to torture me. 
 Casting an eye unlawful on my cheek. 
 Haunted your threshold daily, and threw forth 
 All tempting baits which lust and credulous 
 
 youth 
 Apply to our frail sex : but those being weak. 
 The second siege he laid was in sweet words. 
 
 May. And then the breach was made. 
 
 Bell. Nay, nay, hear all. 
 
 Mist. May. At last he takes me sitting at your 
 door. 
 Seizes my palm, and, by the charm of oaths 
 Back to restore it straight, he won my hand 
 To crown his finger with that hoop of gold. 
 I did demand it ; but he, mad with rage 
 And with desires unbridled, fled, and vow'd 
 That ring should me undo : and now belike 
 
 *• a sallad of that herb] Patience was the name of an 
 herb: "you may recover it with a sallet of parsly and 
 the hearbe patience." A pleasant commodie called Looke 
 about you, 1600, Sig. C 3. 
 
 t running at tlie ring'] Seo note *, p. 60. 
 
 His spells have wrought on you. But I beseech 
 
 you 
 To dare him to my face, and in mean time 
 Deny me bed-room, drive me from your board, 
 Disgrace me in the habit of your slave, 
 Lodge me in some discomfortable vault, 
 Where neither sun nor moon may touch my 
 
 sight. 
 Till of this slander I my soul acquite. 
 Bell. Guiltless, upon my soul ! 
 May. Troth, so think I. 
 I now draw in your bow, as I before 
 Suppos'd they drew in mine : my stream ot 
 
 jealousy 
 Ebbs back again, and I, that like a horse 
 Ran blind-fold in a mill, all in one circle, 
 Yet thought I had gone fore-right, now spy my 
 
 error. — 
 Villains, you have abus'd me, and I vow 
 Sharp vengeance on your heads ! — Drive in your 
 
 tears : 
 I take your word you're honest; which good 
 
 men, 
 Very good men, will scarce do to their wives. 
 I will bring home these serpents, and allow them 
 The heat of mine own bosom : wife, I charge you. 
 Set out your haviours towards them in such 
 
 colours 
 As if you bad been their whore ; I'll have it so. 
 I'll candy o'er my words, and sleek my brow. 
 Entreat 'em that they would not point at me. 
 Nor mock my horns : with this arm I'll embrace 
 'em. 
 
 And with this go to ! 
 
 Mist. May. 0, we shall have murder ! 
 You kill my heart. 
 
 May. No, I will shed no blood ; 
 But I will be reveng'd : they that do wrong 
 Teach others way to right. I'll fetch my blow 
 Fair and afar off, and, as fencers use. 
 Though at the foot I strike, the head I'll bruise. 
 Bell. I'll join with you : let's walk. — O, here's 
 my son. 
 
 Enter Philip with Servingman. 
 Welcome ashore, sir : from whence come you, 
 pray? 
 Phil. From the house of prayer and fasting, 
 the Counter. 
 
 Bell. Art not thou ashamed to be seen come 
 out of a prison 1 
 
 Phil. No, God's my judge ; but I was ashamed 
 to go into prison. 
 
 Bell. I am told, sir, that you spend your cre- 
 dit and your coin upon a light woman. 
 
256 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 PhO. I ha* B06n light gold, air, pasa away 
 amonp^^t mercers. 
 
 Bell. Aud that you have laid thirty or forty 
 pouudd ui>0D her back in tofTota gowua and silk 
 petticoats. 
 
 Phil. None but tailoru will s-ny so : I ne'er laid 
 any thing upon her back. I confess I took up a 
 petticoat and a raised fore-part for her ; but who 
 has to do with that 7 
 
 May. Marry, that has every body. Master 
 Philip. 
 
 Belt Leave her company, or leave me; for 
 ■he's a woman of an ill unme. 
 
 PhiL Her name is Dorothy, sir; I hope that's 
 DO ill name. 
 
 BeU. What i« shol what wilt thou do with 
 her? 
 
 May.* 'Sblood, sir, what does he with her ! 
 
 litU. Do«t mean to marry her ? of wliat birth 
 ia she ? what are her comings in ] what does she 
 live upon ? 
 
 Phil. Rents, sir, rents.t she lives upon her 
 renta ; and I can have her. 
 
 PhiL Nay, father, if destiny dog me, I must 
 have her. You have often told me the nine 
 Muses are all women, and you deal with them : 
 may not I the better be allowed one than you so 
 many? Look you, sir, the northern man loves 
 white-meats, the southery man sallads, the Essex 
 man a calf, the Kentish man a wag-tail, the Lan- 
 cashire man an egg-pie, the Welshman leeks and 
 cheese, and your Londonera raw mutton ; so, 
 father, God b'wi'you, I was bom in London. 
 
 Bell. Stay, look you, sir : as he that lives upon 
 sallads without mutton feeds like an ox (for he 
 eats grass, you know), yet rises as hungry as an 
 ass ; and as he that makes a dinner of leeks will 
 have lean cheeks : so thou, foolish Londoner, if 
 nothing but raw mutton can diet thee, look to 
 live* like a fool and a slave, and to die like a 
 beggar aud a knave. — Come, Master Mayberry. — 
 Farewell, boy. 
 
 Phil. Farewell, Father Snot.t— Sir[s], if I have 
 
 her, I'll spend more in mustard and vinegar in a 
 
 year than both you in beef. 
 
 BiM., \ 
 
 ■., \ More saucy knave thou. [^Exeunt. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 SCENE l.X 
 
 B»ttT UoBKrr, Dull; \^K\i:Mitoi.and Cii artlky iile 
 
 tiorvlutpucu. 
 
 Ilor. Am I like a tiddler's baao-viol, new setup, 
 iu a good COM), boys f ia't neat, is it terse ? am I 
 haudaumo, ha I 
 
 Omna. Aduiirablu, osct-llent T 
 
 DM. An uiiderbhuriir cannot cover a knave 
 ntoro cuuuiii;;ly. 
 
 Ltrtr. 'iSfoot, if hu nhould como before a 
 diurch warduu, he would make him pow-fellow 
 with a lonl'* ateward at leiu»t. 
 
 y/wr. If I had but \ utalf in my hand, foola 
 Would thii.k 1 «.io uuo of Biwua and Judu's 
 «••'' 1 that my apiiarol wore 
 
 
 •lU- 
 
 4fiMik I i*- 
 
 ■ iwlrr who la vurluu* tii 
 I i'ldlctou'* /IfMif, UtMtr 
 
 ■ ill V.M'» Imuao. (.V 
 
 ' iM9«m : ahe 
 
 mka H flttr 
 
 hired. They say three tailoi-s go to the making 
 up of a man ; but I'm sure I had four tailors and 
 a half went to the making of me thus : this suit, 
 though it hu' been canviussed well, yet 'tis no law- 
 suit, for 'twas despatched sooner than a posset 
 on a wedding-night. 
 
 Doll. Why, I tell thee, Jack Hornet, if tho 
 devil and all tho brokers iu Long-lane had rilled 
 their wardrobe, they would ha' been damned 
 before they hud fitted thee thus. 
 
 7/or. Punk, I shall bo a simple father for you. 
 How does my chain show, now I walk 1 
 
 Jfull. If thou wert hung in chivins, thou couldst 
 not show better. 
 
 Chart. But how sit our bluo coats on our 
 back^l 
 
 will. _ _ ' .■ J ■ ' . 1 ■ ' ■ 'l>. :k 
 
 IMirwly un, or n ()uotAiion ironi, aomo noiig : lu The H'tt 
 
 €tfa It'oinan, \<UH, I find, 
 
 "My Imith and my jnit 
 Tiiroji not n i;r»nte 
 I'ur mich a loU-conto, 
 i^nrotttl, Sinior »not."—&\g. 3. 
 
NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 25^ 
 
 Doll. As they do upon bankrupt retainers' 
 backs at Saint George's feast in London : but at 
 Westminster it makes 'em scorn the badge of 
 their occupation ; there the bragging velure-can- 
 ioned* hobby-horses prance up and down as if 
 some o' the tilters had ridden 'em. 
 
 Hor. Nay, 'sfoot, if they be bankrupts, 'tis 
 like some have ridden 'em ; and thereupon the 
 citizen's proverb rises, when he says, he trusts 
 to a broken staff. 
 
 Doll. Hornet, now you play my father, take 
 heed you be not out of your part, and shame 
 your adopted daughter. 
 
 Hor. I will look gravely, Doll, — do you see, 
 boys? — like the foreman of a jury; and speak 
 wisely, like a Latin schoolmaster ; and be surly 
 and dogged and proud, like the keeper of a 
 prison. 
 
 Lever. You must lie horribly when you talk 
 of your lands. 
 
 Hor. No shopkeeper shall outlie me, nay, no 
 fencer. When I hem, boys, you shall duck ; when 
 I cough and spit gobbets, Doll, ■ 
 
 Doll. The pox shall be in your lungs, Hornet. 
 
 Hor. No, Doll; these with their high shoes 
 shall tread me out. 
 
 Doll. All the lessons that I ha' pricked out for 
 *em is, when the weathercock of my body turns 
 towards them, to stand bare. 
 
 Hor. And not to be saucy as servingmen are. 
 
 * velure-canionedl Velure is velvet. 
 "Cannions, of breeches. G. candns : on les appele 
 ainsi pource qu'ila sont aucunement semblables aux 
 can6ns d'artillerie, — because they are like cannons of 
 artillery, or cans or pots." — Minsheu's Guide into the 
 tongues, p. 61, ed. 1617. 
 
 Strutt explains canions to be "ornamental tubes or 
 tags at the ends of the ribbands and laces, which were 
 .attached to the extremities of the breeches." — Ih-ess and 
 Habits, &c., vol. ii. p. 263. 
 
 Canon-hose, decorated at the knees with a quantity of 
 ribbons, were fashionable in the time of Charles the 
 Second. 
 
 In a MS. copy of a comedy called TJie Humourous 
 Lovers, by the Duke of Newcastle, among the Harleian 
 MSS., 7367, the following song (not given in the printed 
 copy of the play, 1677,) occurs at the beginning of the 
 4th act ; 
 
 " I conjure thee, I conjure thee. 
 
 By the Ribands in thy Hatt, 
 
 By thy pritty lac'd Cravat, 
 
 By the Ribands round tliy Biun, 
 
 Which is brac'd much Uke a Drum, 
 
 By thy dangling Pantaloons, 
 
 And thy ruffling Port Cannons, 
 
 By thy freezeld Perrivnge, 
 
 "Which does make thee look so bigg. 
 
 By thy Sword of Silver gmlt, 
 
 And the Riband at thy Hilt, — 
 
 Apeare, apear." 
 
 Chart. Come, come, we are no such creatures 
 as you take us for. 
 
 Doll. If we have but good draughts in my 
 petei'boat, fresh salmon, you sweet villains, shall 
 be no meat with us. 
 
 Hor. 'Sfoot, nothing moves my choler but that 
 my chain is copper; but 'tis no matter, better 
 men than old Jack Hornet have rode up Holbom 
 with as bad a thing about their necks as this : 
 your right whiffler*, indeed, hangs himself in 
 Saint Martin's,+ and not in Cbeapside. 
 
 Doll. Peace ! somebody rings. — Run both, whilst 
 he has the rope in's hand : if it be a prize, hale 
 him ; if a man o' war, blow him up, or hang him 
 out at the main-yard's end. 
 
 [^Exeunt Leverpool and Chartley. 
 
 Hor. But what ghosts — hold up, my fine girl 
 — what ghosts haunt thy house ? 
 
 Doll. 0, why, divers. I have a clothier's 
 factor or two, a grocer that would fain pepper 
 me, a Welsh captain that lays hard siege, a 
 Dutch merchant that would spend all that he's 
 able to make i'the Low-Countries but to take 
 measure of my Holland sheets when I lie in 'em 
 — I hear trampling ; 'tis my Flemish hoy. 
 
 Re-enter Levebpool and Chartley, with Hans Van 
 Belch. 
 
 Hans. Dar is vor you, and vor you, — een, twea, 
 drie, vier, and vive skilling : drinks skellum upsie 
 freese, nempt dats u drinck gelt. 
 
 Lever. Till our crowns crack again, Master 
 Hans Van Belch. 
 
 Hans. How is't met you, how is't, vro ? vrolick 1 
 
 Doll. Ick vare well, God danke you : nay, I'm 
 an apt scholar, and can take. 
 
 Hans. Dat is good, dat is good. Ick can 
 neet stay long, for Ick heb en skip come now 
 upon de vater. mine schonen vro, we sail 
 dance lanteera teera, and sing Ick brincks to you, 
 Mynheer Van. — Wat man is dat, vro ? 
 
 Hor, Nay, pray, sir, on. 
 
 Hans. Wat bonds foot is dat, Dorothy ? 
 
 Doll. 'Tis my father. 
 
 Hans. Got's sacrament, your vader ! why sey- 
 ghen you niet so to me ? — Mine heart, 'tis mine all 
 great desire to call you mine vader ta, for Ick 
 love dis schonen vro your dochterkin. 
 
 Hor. Sir, you are welcome in the way of 
 honesty. 
 
 Hans. Ick bedanck you : Ick heb so ghe founden 
 vader. 
 
 * whiffler'] See note *, p. 242. 
 
 t Saint Martin's] See note », p. 203. 
 
268 
 
 NORTHM'ARD HO, 
 
 ACT ri. 
 
 nor. What's your name, I pray ? 
 JIani. Mun nom bin Hans Von Belch. 
 Ilor. Hans Von Belch ! 
 
 Hans. Yau, yau, 'tis so, 'tis so; de dronken 
 man is altcet remcnber me. 
 
 Uor. Do you play the merchant, son Belch ? 
 Hans. Yau, viidcr. Ick heb do skip swim now 
 upon do vater : if you endouty, go up in de 
 little akip dat go so, and be pulled up to Wapping. 
 Ick sail bear you on my back, and hang you 
 •bout min neck into min groet ekip. 
 
 Jlor. He says, Doll, he would have theo to 
 Wapping, and hang thee. 
 
 DolL No, father, I understand him. — But, 
 Master Hans, I would not be seen hanging about 
 any man's neck, to be counted his jewel, for any 
 gold. 
 nor. Is your father living, Master Hans) 
 Uant. Yau, yau, min vader heb Bchonen husen 
 in Ausburgh ; groet mynheer is mine vader's 
 bro<ler : mine vader heb land, and bin full of fee, 
 dat is, bcasta, cattle. 
 
 Chart He's lousy, belike. 
 I/atu. Min vader bin de grotest fookor in all 
 Auhburgh. 
 
 Ml. Tiie greatest what ? 
 J^erer. Ktxjkor, he says, 
 Doll. Out upon him ! 
 
 Hunt. Yau, yau, fookcr is en groet mjTiheer, 
 hv'« en cldorman vano city. Qot's sacrament, 
 wat is de clock t Ick mot stay. 
 
 Hot. [aside to DoU] Call his watch before you, 
 if you ou). [A watch.* 
 
 IMAL Here's a pretty thing : do those wheels 
 ■pill up the hours ? what's o'clock ? 
 Hans. Acht ; ynu, 'tis acht. 
 IhlL Wo can hear neither clock nor jack 
 goin^ ; we dwell in such a plitco, that I fear I 
 kluUl uever find the way to cliurch, bvcauHO the 
 l>«lls hang so far : such a watch as this would 
 !is:>kit 1110 go down with the lamb and bo up with 
 t^. l.rk. 
 
 Hotu. Koghen you huI dor it to. 
 bolt. (>, fio, I do but joHt; for, in trutli, I conlil 
 nrvcr abido a watch, 
 ^ llant. (Jots locranient, Ick uiot hob it any 
 I mora. 
 
 I \IMl ri»oi ■ tt*%uu I.ivcar<icii. iiN<{ CiuRTLtr. 
 
 ^ IMt Auuihor poal I Ooinl father, launch out 
 Iht* Hullajidor. 
 
 //or. Come, Master Bcloh, I will bring you to 
 
 • J ««l«A| «• U« old loft to iniaa. how 
 
 lUl ««Ul««a la maka u^i. pruduM him waUh. 
 
 the water-side, perhaps to Wapping, and there 
 
 I'll leave you. 
 
 Hans. Ick bedanck you, vader. 
 
 [Exeunt Hans Van Belch and Homjet. 
 
 Doll. They say whores and bawds go by clocks ; 
 but what a Manasses is this to buy twelve hours 
 80 dearly, and then be begged out of 'em so 
 ea-sily ! He'll be out at heels shortly sure, for he's 
 out about the clocks already. foolish young 
 man, how dost thou spend thy time ! 
 Re-enter Leverpool. 
 
 Lever. Your grocer. 
 
 Doll. Nay, 'sfoot, then I'll change my tune. 
 
 Enter Allum vith Chartlet. 
 I may curse* such leaden-heeled rascals ! — Out of 
 my sight ! — A knife, a knife, I say ! — Master 
 Allum, if you love a woman, draw out your 
 knife, and undo me, undo me ! 
 
 All. Sweet Mistress Dorothy, what should you 
 do with a kuife? it's ill meddling with edge- 
 tools. — What's the matter, masters 1 Knife ! 
 God bless us ! 
 
 Lever, [aside] 'Sfoot, what tricks at noddy+ 
 are these? 
 
 Doll. 0, I shall burst, if I cut not my lace, I'm 
 so vexed ! My father he's rid to court one way* 
 about a matter of a thousand pound weight : and 
 one of his men, like a rogue as he is, is rid 
 another way for rents ; I looked to have had him 
 up yesterday, and up to-day, and yet he shows 
 not his head ; sure, he's run away, or robbed and 
 run thorough. And hero was a scrivener but 
 even now, to put my father in mind of a bond 
 that will be forfeit this night, if the money be 
 not paid. Master Allum. Such cross fortune! 
 A II. How much is the bond ? 
 Chart, [aside] rare little villain ! 
 Doll. My father could take up, upon the bareness 
 of his word, five hundred pound, and five too, — 
 All. What is the debt? 
 
 Doll. But ho scorns to bo — and I scorn to be — 
 All. Prithee, sweet Mistress Dorothy, vex not. 
 How much is it? 
 
 Doll. Alas, Master Allum, 'ti.s but poor fifty 
 pound ! 
 
 All. If tl^it bo all, you shall upon your word 
 take up so much with me : another time I'll run 
 a* far in your books. 
 
 Doll. Sir, I know not how to repay this kind- 
 noait; h\\\ when my father— 
 
 • ctir$r] Tlio olil ixl "(■.lum'." 
 
 t trull al noitilj/] Ix>vcri>o(il |iliiyii on tho dmiblo 
 moaning of the word until)/, wliicli iilffniflca both a (pinio 
 at car«U (noo tuilo •, p. U29,) and a fool. 
 
 I ifnyj The old 0*1. " wna." 
 
NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 259 
 
 All. Tush, tush, 'tis not worth the talking : 
 just fifty pound ! when is it to be paid 1 
 
 Boll. Between one and two. 
 
 Lever, [aside] That's we three. 
 
 All. Let one of your men go along, and I'll 
 send your fifty pound. 
 
 Boll. You so bind me, sir! — [To Leverpool] 
 Go, sirrah. — Master AUum, I ha' some quinces 
 brought from our house i'the country to pi-eserve : 
 when shall we have any good sugar come over ? 
 The wars in Barbary make sugar at such an 
 excessive rate ! you pay sweetly now, I warrant, 
 sir, do you not ? 
 
 A II. You shall have a whole chest of sugar, if 
 you please. 
 
 Boll. Nay, by my faith, four or five loaves will 
 be enough, and I'll pay you at my first child. 
 Master Allum. 
 
 All. Content, i'faith : your man shall bring all 
 under one. I'll borrow a kiss of you at parting. 
 
 Enter Captain Jenkins. 
 
 Boll. You shall, sir ; I borrow more of you. 
 
 [Fxeunt Allum and Leveepool. 
 
 Chart. Save you, captain. 
 
 Boll. "Welcome, good Captain Jenkins. 
 
 Capt. Jen. ^^^lat, is he a bai'ber-surgeon that 
 dressed your lips so ] 
 
 Boll. A barber ! he's my tailor : I bid him 
 measure how high he would make the standing- 
 collar of my new taffeta gown before, and he, as 
 tailors will be saucy and lickerish, laid me o'er 
 the lips. 
 
 Capt. Jen. Ud's blood, I'll lay him 'cross upon 
 his coxcomb next day. 
 
 Boll. You know 'tis not for a gentlewoman to 
 stand with a knave for a small matter, and so I 
 would not strive with him, only to be rid of him. 
 
 Capt. Jen. If I take Master Prick-louse i-amping 
 so high again, by this iron, which is none o' God's 
 angel,* I'll make him know how to kiss your 
 blind cheeks sooner. Mistress Dorothy Hornet, 
 I would not have you be a hornet to lick at 
 cowshards, but to sting such shreds of rascahty : 
 will you sing "A taUor shall have me, my joy"? 
 
 Boll. Captain, I'll be led by you in any thing. 
 A tailor, foh ! 
 
 Capt. Jen. Of what stature or size have you a 
 stomach to have your husband now ? 
 
 Boll. Of the meanest stature, captain; not a 
 size longer than yourself nor shorter. 
 
 * which is none o' God's angel] Compare Dekker; "I 
 markt, by this candle, which is none of God's Angels." 
 Satiromastix, 1602, Sig. C. 
 
 Capt, Jen. By God, 'tis well said ; all your best 
 captain in the Low-Countries are as taller as I : 
 but why of my pitch, Mistress Doll ] 
 
 Boll. Because your smallest arrows fly farthest. 
 Ah, you little hard-favoured villain, but sweet 
 villain, I love thee because thou't draw o' my 
 side : hang the rogue that will not fight for a 
 woman ! 
 
 Capt. Jen. Ud's blood, and hang him for urse 
 than a rogue that will slash and cut for an oman, 
 if she be a whore. 
 
 Boll. Prithee, good Captain Jenkins, teach me 
 to speak some Welsh : methinks a Welshman's 
 tongue is the neatest tongue — 
 
 Capt. Jen. As any tongue in the urld, unless 
 Cra ma crees, that's urse. 
 
 Boll. How do you say, " I love you with all my 
 heart " ? 
 
 Capt. Jen. Mi cara wJiee en hellon.* 
 
 Boll. Mi cara whee en hell-hound. 
 
 Capt. Jen. Hell-hound! mon dieul — Mi 
 cara tvhee en hellon. 
 
 Boll. 0, Mi cara lohee en hellon. 
 
 Capt. Jen. 0, an you went to writing-school 
 twenty-score year in Wales, by Sesu, you cannot 
 have better utterance for Welsh. 
 
 Boll. " Come tit me, come tat me, come throw 
 a kiss at me" — how is that ? 
 
 Capt. Jen. By gad, I kanow not what your 
 tit-mes and tat-mes are, but mee uatha : 'sblood, 
 I know what kisses be as well as I know a Welsh 
 hook. If you will go down with Shropshire 
 carriers, you shall have Welsh enough in your 
 pellies forty weeks. 
 
 Boll, Say, captain, that I should follow your 
 coloiu's into your country, how should I fare 
 there ? 
 
 Ca2)t. Jen. Fare ! by Sesu, 0, there is the most 
 abominable seer,+ and wider silver pots to drink 
 in. and softer peds to lie upon and do our necessary 
 pusiness, and fairer houses, and parks, and holes 
 for conies, and more money, besides toasted 
 seese and butter-milk in North Wales, diggon, 
 besides harps, and Welsh frize, and goats, and 
 cow-heels, and metheglin : ouh, it may be set 
 in the kernicles. Will you march thither 1 
 
 * Qy. Mi gara chioi yn nghalon ? 
 
 t abominable seer] The captain does not use abominable 
 in a bad sense, quite the reverse : so in Field's A Woman 
 is a Weathercock, 1612 ; 
 
 " Abraham. Does she so love me say you ? 
 
 Pendant. Yes, yes, out of all question the whore does 
 love you abhominable." Sig. F. 4. 
 
 Is it necessary to add that by "seer " he means cheer, 
 and, a little after, by "ke-niicUs" chronicles? 
 
 s 2 
 
260 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 Ihll. Not with your Shropeliire carriers, 
 captain. 
 
 Capt. Jen. Will you go with Captain Jenkin, 
 an<l 8e« bis couaiu Mailoc ni>-au-Jenkin there? 
 and I'll run headlongs by and by, and batter 
 away money f«jr a new coach to jolt you in. 
 
 DoU. Bestow your coach upon Uic, and two 
 young white mart's, and you shall see how I'll ridi'. 
 
 Capl. Jen. Will you ? by all the leeks tbat are 
 worn on &iiut Davy's day, I will buy not only a 
 ooftch with four wheels, but also a white mare 
 and a stone-horse too, because they shall traw 
 you very lustily, as if the devil were in their arses. 
 
 At he it going, mirr Philip. 
 How now ! more tailors ? 
 
 Phil How, cir ! tailors ! 
 
 Doll. gooil caf>tain, 'tis my cousin. 
 
 Cajjt- Jen. Is he? — I will cousin you then, sir, 
 too one day. 
 
 PhU, I hope, sir, then to cozen you too. 
 
 Capt. Jen. By gad, I hobe so. — Farewell, 
 Sidanen.* [Exit. 
 
 Re-entrr LrN'ERrooL at another door. 
 Lever. Here's both money and sugar. 
 DotL sweet villain ! set it up. 
 
 [Exit I.EVLiiPOoL, and rf-fiiler prttently. 
 
 Phil. 'Sf<x)t, what tame swaggerer waa this I 
 met, Dolir 
 
 IhM. A captain, a captain. But hast scaped 
 the Dunkirk*, honent Phili{)1 Philip-riaU are 
 Dot more welcome : did thy father pa}' the shot? 
 
 Phil. Ho |>aid tliat shot, and then shot pistolets 
 into luy pockets : hark, wench ; — 
 
 Cliink, chink, 
 Make* the punk wanton and the bawd to wink. 
 
 [Ctpers. 
 
 Ckarl. O rare music ! 
 
 L<rer. Heavenly consort, bettor than old 
 Muon't't 
 
 /''■■' i-'it why, why, Doll, go tbeaa two like 
 )lu«. bar 
 
 ' -"BUUnen, •. f. 
 r ailk. It 1« the 
 
 r a /f»# troman ; 
 
 '.">oeu ICIluil*oUi." 
 
 ' .■"• 
 
 . l*li«i |«ii I.I ilic preeodinR quota- 
 
 I havo la i>li>orVB, tliitt tlmrn WM 
 
 '. A 
 
 tkt 
 
 ... tl>o 
 
 •■iidllixl A tttllit 
 
 tkt (^trfitt mtij ' 
 
 i.. . 
 
 ' " ". fc""" '*o»« i>l<l JtfeoN't] "8101111 
 
 ••« ' *•• •"*> •«i<l Uoiro In Aiittiny Nowo- 
 
 Hum, awt *<Ml Mmft kixl |m« uxikl iif<o>U \>o • MnirTy 
 
 Doll. There's a moral in that. — Flay off your 
 skins, you precious cannibals. — 0, that the Welbh 
 captain were here again, and a drum with him ! I 
 could march now, ran, tan, tan, tara, ran, tiui, tan. — 
 Sirrah Philip, has thy father any plate in's house ? 
 
 Phil. Enough to set up a goldsmith's shop. 
 
 Doll. Canst not borrow some of it ? We shall 
 have guests to-morrow or next day, and I would 
 serve the hungry ragamufl&ns in plate, though 
 'twere none of mine own. 
 
 Phil. I shall hardly borrow it of him ; but I 
 could get one of mine aunts to beat the bush for 
 me, and she might get the bird. 
 
 DoU. Why, prithee, let me be one of thine 
 aunts,* and do it for me, then : as I'm virtuous 
 and a gentlewoman, I'll restore. 
 
 Phil. Say no more ; 'tis done. 
 
 Doll. What manner of man is thy father? 
 'sfoot, I'd fain see the witty monkey, because 
 thou sayest he's a poet I'll tell thee what I'll 
 do. Leverpool or Chartley shall, like my 
 gentleman-usher, go to him, and say such a lady 
 sends fur him about a sonnet or an epitaph for 
 her child that died at nui-se, or for some device 
 about a mask or so: if he comes, you shall 
 stand in a corner, and see in what state I'll bear 
 myself. He does not know me nor my lodging • 
 
 Phil. No, no. 
 
 Dull. Is't a match, sirs? shall's be merry with 
 him and his Muse ? 
 
 Phil., Lever., Chart. Agreed ; any scaffold to 
 execute knavery upon. 
 
 DulL I'll send, then, my vaunt-courier pn?- 
 sently : in the mean time march after the 
 captain, scoundrels. — Come, hold me up : 
 Look, how Sabrina sunk i"tlie river Severn, 
 So will we four bo drunk i'the Shipwreck Taveni. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE Il.t 
 
 Kjtler nRM.AMONT, M.WIIEKKV.aiKf MiSTRMS MAVIIERnV 
 
 May. (\)nu>, wife, our two gallanta will be here 
 presently : I have pronnsed them the best of 
 entortainniout, with protestation never to reveal 
 
 munition thnt lintli tteo JliiUrt to hln fathers." Wllkln»'H 
 Stitrrin nf Infortt Afarrinii*. Hig. A. 3. 1(107. 
 
 Anthony .\ow-No\v (Igvirw In Cliottlo's Kind-Hart$ 
 th-fam, KV.ij 
 
 Wlion tho prfwnt piny wa« written. «n>l lonji after, a 
 •ot t>r niualclnnii |>ln.vin(f or ulnirlug tojrethor wa« cnllc.l 
 n fOHtort : tho tonu conerrt !• cuni]>amtlvoty tno<loni 
 
 • dMn(i| 8c« iiiito •, p. "JM. 
 
 t Semt II I Tho iiaiuo. A room in tho houni' c.f 
 Maylwrry. 
 
NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 261 
 
 to thee their slander. I will have thee bear 
 thyself as if thou madest a feast upon Simon 
 and Jude's day to country gentlewomen that 
 came to see the pageant : bid them extremely 
 welcome, though thou wish their throats cut; 'tis 
 in fashion. 
 
 Mist. May. God ! I shall never endure them. 
 Bell. Endure them ! you are a fool. Make it 
 your case, as it may be many women's of the 
 freedom, that you had a friend in private whom 
 your husband should lay to his bosom, and he in 
 requital should lay his wife to his bosom ; what 
 treads of the toe, salutations by winks, discourse 
 by bitings of the lip, amorous glances, sweet 
 stolen kisses, when your husband's back's turned, 
 would pass between them ! Bear yourself to 
 Greenshield as if you did love him for affecting 
 you so entirely, not taking any notice of his 
 journey : they'll put more tricks iipon you.— 
 You told me, Greenshield means to bi-ing his 
 sister to your house, to have her board here. 
 
 May. Right. She's some cracked demi-culveriu 
 that hath miscarried in service: no matter though 
 it be some charge to me for a time, I care not. 
 
 Mist. May. Lord, was there ever such a hus- 
 band! 
 
 May. Why, wouldst thou have me suffer their 
 tongues to run at large in ordinaries and cockpits? 
 Though the knaves do lie, I tell you, Master Bella- 
 mont, lies that come from stern looks and satin 
 outsides, and gilt rapiers also, will be put up and 
 go for current. 
 
 Bell. Right, sir ; 'tis a small spark gives fire to 
 a beautiful woman's discredit. 
 
 May. I will therefore use them like informing 
 knaves in this kind ; make up their mouths with 
 silver, and after be revenged upon them. I was 
 in doubt I should have grown fat of late : an it 
 were not for law-suits and fear of our wives, we 
 rich men should grow out of all compass. — They 
 come. 
 
 Enter Greenshield and Fbatheestone. 
 My worthy friends, welcome : look, my wife's 
 colour rises already. 
 
 Qreen. You have not made her acquainted with 
 the discovery] 
 
 May. 0, by no means. Ye see, gentlemen, the 
 affection of au old man : I would fain make all 
 whole again. — Wife, give entertainment to our 
 new acquaintance : your lips, wife ; any woman 
 may lend her lips without her husband's privity ; 
 'tis allowable. 
 
 Mist. May. You are very welcome. I think it 
 
 be near dinner-time, gentlemen : I'll will * the 
 maid to cover, and return presently. [Exit. 
 
 Bell, [aside to May.] God's precious, why doth 
 she leave them? 
 
 May. [asi(Ze<o5rfZ.] 0,1 know her stomach: she is 
 but retired into another chambei', to ease her heart 
 with crying a little. It hath ever been her humour : 
 she hath done it five or six times in a day, when 
 courtiers have been here, if any thing hath been 
 out of order, and yet, every return, laughed and 
 been as merry ! — And how is it, gentlemen ] you 
 are well acquainted with this room, are you not 1 
 Green. I had a delicate banquet once on that 
 table. 
 
 May. In good time : but you are better ac- 
 quainted with my bed-chamber. 
 
 Bell. Were the cloth-of gold cushions set forth 
 at your entertainment ? 
 Feath. Yes, sir. 
 
 May. And the cloth-of-tissue vallauce ? 
 Feath. They are very rich ones. 
 May. [aside] God refuse me, they are lying 
 rascals ! I have no such furniture. 
 
 Qreen. I protest it was the strangest, and yet 
 withal the happiest fortune, that we should meet 
 you two at Ware, that ever redeemed such dis - 
 solutef actions. I would not wrong you again for 
 a million of Londons. 
 
 May. No ? Do you want any money ? or if you 
 be in debt (I am a hundred pound i'the subsidy), 
 command me. 
 
 Feath. Alas, good gentleman ! Did you ever 
 read of the like patience in any of your ancient 
 Romans ? 
 
 Bell. You see what a sweet face in a velvet cap 
 can do : your citizen's wives are like partridges, 
 the hens are better than the cocks. 
 
 Feath. I believe it, in troth : sir, you did observe 
 how the gentlewoman could not contain herself 
 when she saw us enter ? 
 Bell. Right. 
 
 Feath. For thus much I must speak in allowance 
 of her modesty; when I had her most private, she 
 would blush extremely. 
 
 Bell. Ay, I warrant you, and ask you if you 
 would have such a great sin lie upon your con- 
 science as to lie with another man's wife 1 
 Feath, In troth, she would. 
 Bell. And tell you there were maids enough in 
 London, if a man were so viciously given, whose 
 portions would help them to husbands, though 
 gentlemen gave the first onset ? 
 
 will] i. e. desire, f dissolute] The old ed. "desolate." 
 
2G2 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 Peath. You ore a merry old gentleman, in faith, 
 sir : much like to tliis wus her language. 
 
 Bell. And jet clip • you with aa voluntary a 
 bosom aa if she hod fidlcu in love with you at 
 some luns-o'-court reveU, and invited you by 
 letter to her lodging 1 
 
 Ftath. Your tuowledgc, air, is perfect without 
 any iufornintion. 
 
 May. I'll go Bco what uiy wife is doing, gen- 
 tlemen : when my wife enters, show her this ring, 
 and 'twill quit all suspicion. [Exit. 
 
 Ptatk. [atide to Oreen.] Dost hear, Luke Green- 
 •hield I will thy wife be here presently ] 
 
 Orten.f [aside to Fcath.] I left my boy to wait 
 upon her. By thin light, I tliink God provides ; for if 
 t\i'u citizen had not,out of his overplus of kindness, 
 proficrrd her her diet and lodging under the 
 namu of my sii>ter, I could not have told what shift 
 to haTo made, for the greatest i>art of my money 
 u revolted : we'll make more use of him. The 
 whoreson rich innkeeper of Doncaster, her father, 
 •howed hiiuDcIf a rank ostler, to send her up at 
 this time o' year, and by tho carrier too ; 'twas 
 but a jade's trick of him. 
 
 Ftath. [aside to O'reen.] But have you instructed 
 her to call you brother] 
 
 Orceif. [aside to Feath.] Yea ; and she'll do it, I 
 left her at Bosoms Inn -.Z she'll bo here presently. 
 
 Ht-tntrr MAVnEHRV. 
 
 Ua\f. MiuiU'r Ureenshiold, your sister is come ; 
 my »jfo it entertaining her : by tho moss, I have 
 been upon her li]>H already. 
 
 It/ftitr Miarttewi MAVHEaav iriM Kate. 
 -u arc welcome.— Look you, Master Green- 
 U'cauHu your sister is newly come out of 
 ll.« UiMtU «ir, and that to be pent up in a 
 titrt'.w l'> Ik'ihk hero i'tho city may offend her 
 ' idl liMlgo nt a giu-den house of mine 
 s; wliero if it please you and my 
 >»• fi.y friend hero to bear her company, your 
 •r^.ral l.«l^•lll|.1^ and jojut comnionM, to tho poor 
 •> 1 ••> i.f a ( iti/.n, alioll bo provided. 
 y^u/A. (J Uo.1, (iri 
 Ml)/. N«y, uu compllmout; your lovea com- 
 
 •-•loUiUlAniif^l T.<,w,^„p„ 
 
 ...4tll 
 
 • ticaoHi, III • iMinler of IIIihwuiiu 
 ttorwtf »/ tiMNiaw, tc U. Ul. p. 40. 
 
 mand it. Shall's to dinner, gentlemen ? — Come, 
 Master Bellamont. — I'll be the gentleman-usher 
 
 to this fair lady.* 
 
 [Exeunt Mavbebrt and Bellamont. 
 
 Oreen. Here is your ring, mistress ; a thousand 
 
 times, 1 and would have willingly lost my 
 
 best of maintenance, that I might have found you 
 half so tractable. 
 
 Alist. May. Sir, I am still myself. I know not 
 by what means you have grown upon my husband : 
 he is much deceived in you, I take it. Will you 
 go in to dinner] — [Aside] God, that I might 
 have my will of him ! an it were not for my 
 husband, I'd scratch out his eyes presently. 
 
 [Exeunt Greenshield and Mistress Matberbt. 
 
 Feath. Welcome to London, bonny Mistress 
 Kate : thy husband little dreams of tho familiarity 
 that hath passed between thee and I, Kate. 
 
 Kate. No matter, if he did. He ran away from 
 me, like a base slave as he was, out of Yorkshire, 
 and pretended he would go the Island voyage: J 
 since I ne'er heard of him till within this fort- 
 night. Can the world condemn me for enter- 
 taining a friend, that am used so like an 
 infidel ? 
 
 Feath. I think not : but if your husband knew 
 of this, he'd be divorced. 
 
 Kate. He were an ass, then. No : wise men 
 should deal by their wives as the sale of ordnance 
 paseeth in England : if it break the first discharge, 
 the workman is at tho loss of it; if the second, the 
 merchant and tho workman jointly ; if the third, 
 the merchant : so in our case, if a woman prove 
 false the f^rat year, turn her upon her father's 
 neck ; if tho second, turn her home to her father, 
 but allow her a portion ; but if she hold puro 
 metal two-year and fly to several pieces in the 
 third, repair the ruins of lier honesty at your 
 charges : for the best piece of ordnance may bo 
 cracked in the casting ; and for women to have 
 cracks and flaws, alas, they are born to them. 
 Now, I have hold out four year. — Doth my 
 husbtuid do any things about Loudon? doth ho 
 swagger ? 
 
 Feath. 0, as tamo aa a fray in Fleet-street, when 
 there are nobody to part them. 
 
 * rn b« Ikt fftntUman-vAer to tkii fair la<ty] In th« 
 flntl otlUlnn of thill work I InuiHforrwt thoao wordii to 
 Uruoiuililolil,— wn.iiK'ly. I now U-llove. 
 
 ♦ 1 Thin hn-ak In found in tho old od . 
 
 oiraaloiiod by aoino dofotl In tho MS. 
 
 t ttif hliind t'oyxifff] llmlorUiki'n nirainst Ulnimnlola, 
 lit ISSA : tho floot, ooiiiiiinndoil by Sir Kninei.H Dniko, 
 ooiinlntod of twoiityHiuo iihi|iM, liirryiiiK nl>ovo two Ihou- 
 Mud vuluiiloon : Uioy took (k>mom1ou of Ht. Uommtfo. 
 
NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 2G3 
 
 Kate. I ever thought so. We have notable 
 valiant fellows about Doncaster ; they'll give the 
 lie and the stab both in an instant. 
 
 Feath. You like such kind of manhood best, 
 Kate. 
 
 Kate. Yes, in troth; for I think any woman 
 that loves her friend had rather have him stand 
 by it than lie by it. But, I pray thee, tell me 
 why must I be quartered at this citizen's garden- 
 house, say you ? 
 
 Feath. The discourse of that will set thy blood 
 on fire to be revenged on thy husband's forehead- 
 piece. 
 
 Re-enter Mistress Mayberrt and. Bellamont. 
 Mist. May. Will you go in to dinner, sir ? 
 Kate. Will you lead the way, forsooth 1 
 Mist. May. No, sweet, forsooth, we'll follow 
 you. [Exeunt Kate and Featherstone.] 
 Master Bellamont, as ever you took pity upon 
 the simplicity of a poor abused gentlewoman, 
 will you tell me one thing ] 
 
 Bell. Any thing, sweet Mistress Mayberry. 
 Mist. May. Ay, but will you do it faithfully ? 
 Bell. As I respect your acquaintance, I shall 
 do it. 
 
 Mist, May. Tell me, then, I beseech you, do 
 not you think this minx is some naughty pack 
 whom my husband hath fallen in love with, and 
 
 means to keep under my nose at his garden- 
 house ? * 
 
 Bell. No, upon my life, is she not. 
 Mist. May. 0, I cannot believe it. I know by 
 her eyes she is not honest. Why should my 
 husband proffer them such kindness that have 
 abused him and me so intolerable ] and will not 
 suifer me to speak — there's the hell on't — not 
 suffer me to speak ? 
 
 Bell. Fie, fie ! he doth that like a usurer that 
 will use a man with all kindness, that he may be 
 careless of paying his money upon his day, and 
 afterwards take the extremity of the forfeiture. 
 Your jealousy is idle: say this were true; it lies 
 in the bosom of a sweet wife to draw her husband 
 from any loose imperfection, from wenching, from 
 jealousy, from covetousness, from crabbedness 
 (which is the old man's common disease), by her 
 politic yielding. She may do it from crabbedness ; 
 for example, I have known as tough blades as any 
 are in England broke upon a feather-bed. Come 
 to dinner. 
 
 Mist. May. I'll be ruled by you, sir, for you are 
 very like mine uncle. 
 
 BeU. Suspicion works more mischief, grows 
 more strong. 
 To sever chaste beds, than apparent wrong. f 
 
 [E.ceunt. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 SCENE I.* 
 
 Enter Doll, Chartlet, Leverpool, and Philip. 
 
 PhU. Come, my little punk, with thy two 
 compositors to this unlawful painting-house, thy 
 pounders : + my old poetical dad will be here 
 presently. Take up thy state in this chair, and 
 beai" thyself as if thou wert talking to thy 
 pothecaiy after the receipt of a purgation : look 
 scurvily upon him ; sometimes be merry, and stand 
 upon thy pantofles, J like anew-elected scavenger. 
 
 Doll. And by and by melancholic, like a tilter 
 that hath broke his staves foul before his mistress. 
 
 Phil. Right, for he takes thee to be a woman 
 of a great count. [Knocking within.'] Hark ! upon 
 my life, he's come. [Bides himself. 
 
 * Scene /.] London. A room in Doll's house (see note J, 
 p. 256). 
 
 t th;/ pounders : my old poetical dad, &c.] The old ed. 
 has "thy 'pounders a m.y old poeticali dad," &c. I am 
 doubtful about the right reading. 
 
 J pantojks] i. e. slippers. 
 
 Boll. See who knocks. [Exit Leveepool.] 
 Thou shalt see me make a fool of a poet, that hath 
 made five hundred fools. 
 
 Re-enter Leverpool. 
 
 Lever. Please your new ladyship, he's come. 
 
 Boll. Is he ? I should for the more state let 
 him walk some two hours in an outer-room ; if I 
 did owe him money, 'twere not much out of 
 fashion. But come, enter him : — stay ; when we 
 are in piivate conference, send in my tailor. 
 
 Enter Bellamont, brought in by Leverpool. 
 Lever. Look you, my lady's asleep : she'll wake 
 presently. 
 
 * at his gardai-koi'^se] Garden-houses were used for 
 such purposes : so in the opening of Barry's Ram-Alley, 
 1611; 
 
 " what makes he heere. 
 In the skirts of Holbome, so neere the field, 
 And at a garden-house? a has somepunke, 
 Upon my life." 
 t wrong] The old ed. "wrongs." 
 
264 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 ACT in. 
 
 BeU. I como not to teach a atarliiig, sir ; God 
 b' wi' you ! 
 
 Lever. Nay, in truth, bit, if my huly should 
 
 but dream you had been here, 
 
 l}oU. Who's that kec'i>a such a prating 1 
 Lever. 'Tia I, madam. 
 
 Doll. I'll have you preferred to be a crier ; you 
 have an excellent throat for't. — Pox o' the poet, 
 is he not come yet ? 
 
 Lever. He's here, madam. 
 DM. Crj- you mercy : I ha' cursed my monkey 
 for shrewd turns a hundred times, and yet I love 
 it never the wor*e, I protest. 
 
 BeU. Tis not in fashion, dear lady, to call the 
 breaking out of u gentlewoman's lips scabs, but 
 the heat of the Lver. 
 
 IhlL So, sir : — if you have a sweet breath, and 
 do not smell of sweaty linen, you may draw 
 nearer, nearer. 
 
 BeU. I am no friend to garlic, madam. 
 DolL You write the sweeter verse a great deal, 
 ■ir. I have heard much good of your wit, master 
 poet ; you do many devices for citizen's wives : I 
 care not greatly, because I have a city-laundress 
 already, if I got a city-poet too: I have such a 
 device for you, and this it is 
 
 Snter Tailor. 
 0, welcome, tailor. — Do but wait till I despatch 
 my tailor, and I'll discover my device to you. 
 
 BeU. I'll take my leave of your ladyship. 
 
 DoIL No, I pray thee, stay; I must have you 
 •weat for my device, master poet. 
 
 Phil. [anJe] He sweat* already, believe it. 
 
 Ihll. A cup of wine, there ! — What fashion will 
 make a woman have the best budy, tailor 1 
 
 Tathr. A short Dutch waist with a round 
 Catherine-wheel farthingale ; a close sloovo with a 
 outooie • collar and a piccadel.t 
 
 JmM. And what meat will make a woman have 
 a fin* wit, iuajit«r i>oetl 
 
 JitU. Fowl, uitt<lam, ia the most light, delicate, 
 and witty femliug. 
 
 Dull. Fowl, iwycNt thouf I know them thiit 
 
 fowl of it overy meal, and yet are aa arnuit fools 
 
 a« Bfiy an. ii, « kinK.l..m. of my citxlit.— Hast thou 
 
 I I [A'xt/ Tailor.] Now to diacover 
 
 •ir : ril drink to you, sir. 
 
 J'hU. [astdt] Uod'a pracioua, wo uo'er thought 
 
 • ■--'.'• U<iMrHlio4 M sn uprlsht oollar wiUi 
 • !»•»» It M«:u« U> iitMii • Burl of odyliig 
 
 of her device before; pray Clod it be any thing 
 tolerable. 
 
 Doll, ril have you make twelve posies for a 
 dozen of cheese-trenchers.* 
 
 PhU. [(uide] horrible ! 
 
 BeU. In Welsh, madam ? 
 
 DoU. Why in Welsh, sir? 
 
 BeU. Because you will have them served in 
 with your cheese, lady. 
 
 Doll. I will be&tow them, indeed, upon a Welsh 
 captain, one that loves cheese better than venison ; 
 for if you should but get three or four Cheshire 
 cheeses, and set them a-runuing down Highgate- 
 hill, he would make more haste after them than 
 after the best kennel of hounds in En>;land. 
 What think you of my device ? 
 
 Bell. 'Fore God, a very strange device and a 
 cunning one. 
 
 Phil, [aside] Now he begins to eye the goblet. 
 
 Bell. You should be akin to the Bellamouts ; 
 you give the same arms, madam. 
 
 Dull. Faith, I paid sweetly for the cup, as it 
 may be you and some other gentlemen have done 
 for their arms. 
 
 Bell. Ha ! the same weight, the same fashion ! 
 I had three nest of them + pven me by a noble- 
 man at the christenmg of my son Philip. 
 
 PhiL [Diacoverivg himself] Your son is come 
 to full age, sir, and hath ta'en possession of the 
 gift of his godfather. 
 
 Bell. Ha ! thou wilt not kill me ? 
 
 Phil. No, sir, I'll kill no poet, lest his ghost 
 write satires against me. 
 
 * lieelve potUa for a dozen of cheese-trtnchert] Cheese - 
 ti'ouchorx, at the time this play was written, used 
 fro.iueiitly to have [losies iuscribed on them. In 
 Dokker and Miildletou's Hotifnt )r?iort, Part Firtt, George 
 quotes six lines, " aa ouo of our chrtte-trmchrri says 
 very learnedly." Middleton's Works, iii. OS, od. l\vco. 
 t-'onii«ir« t.K) .Middleton's.Yo H'if. nolMp, likta irowoH/. 
 " L. O'olil. Twelve trunchers, u}>ou every one a mouth! 
 Jiujuarj', Kel«nmry, March, April— 
 
 /*0>. Ay. iind their poeiua under "em. 
 
 /, (,'i,l,l. I'niy, what says Way 1 she's the uprinR lady. 
 
 i'rp. [ruul,\ 
 
 Xote ffttllant Mny, in htr array. 
 
 Dull, iiHiir thtjiihl pttatiiHt and jwy," Ac. 
 
 /./. V. 40. 
 t (hrtf ntH qf iKrm] So in the opcninfr of Mamton's 
 I'ulih <\>utit:an, 100.1; "eojfginjf Coi-ledemoy is ninne 
 awsy with a nrntt qf gobUU:" and so lu Arinin's Ttro 
 MauUt <>/ MiirnUult, lOOO ; 
 
 ■■ I'laco your plate, and pile your vitriall IknUcs 
 K'H ii|K>n nttt." sIk. II 2. 
 Mr. CfiMwloy. of MamhoHtor. ol.«orvos to ino that the 
 Urni nf,t .>/(;ut(,r*l8i.till made use of in the Wont Hi.liiijr 
 of Yoikiililro; a near nlallvo of his [.omoiwcs one of 
 thoao Ht$tt.—ix Uryu Kol'lut containing many smaller 
 onosof|ir»duully diiulnlahlujj •Ires, which tit into each 
 other aud flU it up. 
 
SCENE II. 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 265 
 
 Bell. What's she ? a good commonwealth's 
 woman, she was born — 
 
 Phil. For her country, and has borne her 
 country. 
 
 Bell. Heart of virtue, what make I here 1 
 
 Phil. This was the party you railed on. I 
 keep no worse company than yourself, father. 
 You were wont to say, venery is like usury, that 
 it may be allowed though it be not lawful. 
 
 BeU. Wherefore come I hither ? 
 
 Doll. To make a device for cheese-trenchers. 
 
 Phil. I'll tell you why I sent for you ; for no- 
 thing but to show you that your gravity may be 
 drawn in ; white hairs may fall into the company 
 of drabs, as well as red-beards into the society of 
 knaves. Would not this woman deceive a whole 
 camp i'the Low-Countries, and make one com- 
 mander believe she only kept her cabin for him, 
 and yet quarter twenty more iu't ? 
 
 Doll. Prithee, poet, what dost thou think of me ? 
 
 Bell. I think thou art a most admirable, brave, 
 beautiful whore. 
 
 Doll. Nay, sir, I was told you would rail : but 
 what do you think of my device, sir ? nay, but 
 you are not to depart yet, master poet : wut sup 
 with me'? I'll cashier all my young barnacles, 
 and we'll talk over a piece of mutton and a 
 partridge wisely. 
 
 Bell. Sup with thee, that art a common under- 
 taker ! thou that dost promise nothing but 
 watchet eyes, bombast * calves, and false peri- 
 wigs ! 
 
 Doll. Prithee, comb thy beard with a comb of 
 black lead ; it may be I shall affect thee. 
 
 Bell. thy unlucky star ! I must take my leave 
 of your worship ; I cannot fit your device at this 
 instant. I must desire to borrow a nest of goblets 
 of you [Taking them]. — villany ! I would some 
 honest butcher would beg all the queans and 
 knaves i'the city, and carry them into some 
 other country : they'd sell better than beeves 
 and calves. What a virtuous city would this be, 
 then ! marry, I think there would be a few people 
 left in't. Ud's foot, gulled with cheese-trenchers, 
 and yoked in entertainment with a tailor ! good, 
 good. [Exit. 
 
 Phil. How dost, Doll ? 
 
 Doll. Scurvy, very scurvy. 
 
 Lever. Where shall's sup, wench 1 
 
 Doll. I'll sup in my bed. Get you home to 
 your lodging, and come when I send for you. 
 filthy rogue that I am ! 
 
 * bombatt] i. e. bombasted, — stuffed. 
 
 Phil. How, how. Mistress Dorothy ? 
 
 Doll. Saint Antony's fire light in your Spanish 
 slops ! ud's life, I'll make you know a difference 
 between my mirth and melancholy, you panderly 
 rogue. 
 
 Omnes. We observe your ladyship. 
 
 Phil. The punk's in her humour, pax*. 
 
 Doll. I'll humour you, an you pox me. 
 
 [Exeunt Chaetley, Leverpool, and Philip. 
 Ud's life, have I lien with a Spaniard of late, that 
 I have learnt to mingle such water with my 
 Malaga ? 0, there's some scurvy thing or other 
 breeding ! How many several loves of players, 
 of vaulters, of lieutenants, have I entertained, 
 besides a runner o' the ropes, and now to let 
 blood when the sign is at the heart ! Should I 
 send him a letter with some jewel in't, he would 
 requite it as lawyers do, that return a woodcock- 
 pie to their clients, when they send them a bason 
 and a ewer.'l' I will instantly go and make 
 myself drunk till I have lost my memory. Love J 
 a scoffing poet ! [Exit. 
 
 SCENE II.§ 
 
 Enter Leapfrog and Squirrel. 
 
 Leap. Now, Squirrel, wilt thou make us ac- 
 quainted with the jest thou promised to tell 
 us of? 
 
 Squir. I will discover it, not as a Derbyshire 
 woman discovers her great teeth, in laughter, 
 but softly, as a gentleman courts a wench behind 
 an arras; and this it is. Young Greenshield, 
 thy master,l| with Greenshield's sister, lie in my 
 master's garden-house here in Moorfields. 
 
 Leap. Right : what of this 1 
 
 * pax] For pox ; it was perhaps an affected mode of 
 pronouncing the word. So Heywood and Brome in The 
 late Lancashire Witches, Wii, "Pax, I think not on't," — 
 Sig. E 3 ; Brome in the Joviall Crew, 1652, "Pax o' your 
 fine thing," — Sig. L; and Middletou, in Tour Five Gal- 
 lants, "Pax on't, we spoil ourselves for want of these 
 things at university," — Works, ii. 235, ed. Dyce. 
 
 f Should I send him a letter, &c a bason and 
 
 a ewer] I once imagined that "a woodcock-pie" meant 
 here long bills; but I now think it is a mere derision, as 
 woodcocks were reckoned foolish birds : when this play 
 was written, basons and ewers of silver used frequently to 
 be given as presents; "One of Lord Timon's men? a 
 gift, I wan-ant. Why, this hits right; I dreamt of a 
 silver bason and ewer to-night." Shakespeare's Timon of 
 Athens, act iii. sc. 1. 
 
 t Love] The old ed. "Hue." 
 
 § Sce7ie II.] The lobby in Mayberry's garden-house, 
 Moorfields. 
 
 II th]/ rnctster] i. e. Featherstone. 
 
266 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 Squir. Marry, bit, if the gentlewoman be not 
 his wife, he comuuta incest, for I'm euro ho lies 
 with hor every night 
 
 Leap. All thLu I know; but to the rest. 
 
 Squir. I will t«ll thee the most i)olilic trick of 
 a woman that e'er made a man's face look 
 withered and |»ale, like tlie tree in Cuckold's- 
 haven • in a great suow ; and this it is. My 
 mi«tress makes her huHbaud believe that she 
 walks in her sleep o' nights ; and to confirm this 
 belief in him, sundry times she hath risen out of her 
 be<l, unlocked all the doors, gone from chamber 
 to chamber, ojicnetl her chests, toused among her 
 linen, and when he hath waked and missed her, 
 
 * Ut* Iret in OteMiTi-haven] As perhaps this work may 
 be raad by •ome who are uijacqiiaiuted with the ucigb- 
 buurbood of LodHod, and have never sailed down the 
 Thamet to eat white-bait at Greenwich, it may be neces- 
 sary to inform them that a little below Rotherhithe is a 
 •pot, cloM on the river, called Cuckold's Point, which is 
 diatinj^ishod by n tall |xilu with a pair of horns on the top. 
 Tradition nays that near tliis plnco there lived, in the 
 re%n of King John, a miller who li.id a handsome wife ; 
 that hill m-'Oesty hod on intrigue wiUi the fair dame, and 
 pnvi* th<.< li<i<>-nii'l, OS a componsatinn, all the land on that 
 ^ , ■ 1 sec fnim his house, looking down the 
 
 I, however, ho was to possess only on 
 
 '. .....Uing on that day (the IStb of October) 
 
 annually to the fortlieat bounds of his estate with a pair 
 
 of Ifi^k'ii hiTim I'll his hood ; and that the miller, having 
 
 ' ' . saw as far as Charlton, and enjoyed 
 
 < -iiicntioucd teniis. (In several books 
 
 "'-0 this story wo are told that 
 
 11 iiiid saw OS far ns Cuckold's 
 it wliich I have given is what 
 iio» oven now repeat.) Hom- 
 ■ 11, on the 18th of October, in 
 lit 
 
 .c by Taylor the water-poet, 
 I ... . ' 'IT the following,' lines : — 
 
 " And paMintr further, I at Ont obscrv'd 
 Tli.'.' '"ii V. MV I! ,v. II was but badly sorvd ; 
 ^ I such confusion wruughl, 
 
 1 !.tco roinaiuod nought. 
 
 • ' ' rophoes borno, 
 
 Wttutt tiiotr iuraiaUiani cnwta did grow, or show." 
 
 I- .11 
 
 1' . . - t, 
 
 III puiuug oO Uielr liat«, and hoiiu4(e duo it.' 
 •It 
 
 Inotainc, 
 
 no ; 
 
 n 
 
 ■ I «' a<loniea, 
 ti . ii..< i> with llornm " 
 
 I (•>, nf doliig hoiiiago to the 
 • "ia aniuug the vulgar. 
 
 coming to question why she conjured thus at 
 midnight, he hath found her fast asleep : marry, 
 it was cat's sleep, for you shall hear what prey 
 she watched for. 
 
 Leap. Good : forth. 
 
 Squir. I overheard her last night talking with 
 thy master, and she promised him that as soon 
 as her husband was asleep, she would walk 
 according to her custom, and come to his 
 chamber : marry, she would do it so puritanically, 
 so secretlj', I mean, that nobody should hear of it. 
 
 Leap. Is't possible ? 
 
 Squir. Take but that corner and stand close, 
 and thine eyes shall witness it. 
 
 Leap. intolerable wit ! what hold can any 
 man take of a woman's honesty ? 
 
 Squir. Hold! no more hold than of a bull 
 'nointed with soap, and baited with a shoal of 
 fiddlers in Staffordshire. — Stand close; I hear 
 her coming. 
 
 Enter Kate. 
 
 Kate. What a filthy knave was the shoemaker 
 that made my slippers ! what a creaking they 
 keep ! Lord, if there bo any power that can 
 make a woman's husband sleep soundly at a 
 pinch, as I have often read in foolish poetry that 
 there is, now, now, an it be thy will, let him 
 dream some fine dream or other, that he's made 
 a knight or a nobleman or somewhat, whilst I go 
 and take but two kisses, but two kisses, from 
 sweet Featherstone ! [E.i-it. 
 
 Squir. 'Sfoot, he may well dream he's made a 
 knight, for I'll be hanged if she do not dub him. 
 
 Enter Grkexshield. 
 
 0)ten. Wasthcreover any walking spirit like to 
 my wife? what reason should there be in nature 
 for this? I will question some physician. Nor 
 here neither ! Ud's life, I would laugh if she 
 were in Master Featherstoue's chamber : she 
 would fright him. — Master Featherstone, Msuster 
 Feathei-stouo ! 
 
 Feath. [withii\\ Ha! how now! who calls! 
 
 Qrccn. Did you leave your door open last night ? 
 
 Feath. [within] I know not ; 1 think my l)oy did. 
 
 Oreen. God's liglit, she's tliere, then. — Will you 
 know the jest? my wife hath her old tricks. I'll 
 hold my life, my wife's in your chamber : rise 
 out of your bed, and see an you can feel her. 
 
 Squir. [aaidt to Leap.] Ho will feel her, I 
 warrant you. 
 
 lirrrn. Have you her, sir ! 
 
 Ftath, (let'rAiii] Not yet, sir:— she's hero, sir. 
 
 Often. St) I said oven now to niyself, before 
 Qod, la.— Tuko iier up in your arms, and bring 
 
SCENE II. 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 26r 
 
 her hither softly for fear of waking her. — I never 
 knew the like of this, before God, la. 
 
 Enter Featherstone with Kate in his arms. 
 Alas, poor Kate ! — Look, before God, she's asleep 
 with her eyes open : pretty little rogue ! I'll 
 wake her, and make her ashamed of it. 
 
 Featk. 0, you'll make her sicker, then. 
 
 Green. I waiTant you. — Would all women 
 thought no more hurt than thou dost now, sweet 
 villain ! — Kate, Kate ! 
 
 Kate. I longed for the merrythought of a 
 pheasant. 
 
 Green. She talks in her sleep. 
 
 Kate. And the foul-gutted tripe-wife had got 
 it, and eat half of it; and my colour went and 
 came, and my stomach wambled, till I was ready 
 to swoon ; but a midwife perceived it, and marked 
 which way my eyes went, and helped me to it : 
 but, Lord, how I picked it ! 'twas the sweetest 
 meat, methought. 
 
 Squir. [aside] politic mistress ! 
 
 Green. Why, Kate, Kate ! 
 
 Kate. Ha, ha, ha ! ay, beshrew your heart — 
 Lord, where am I] 
 
 Green. I pray thee, be not frighted. 
 
 Kate. 0, I am sick, I am sick, I am sick ! 0, 
 how my flesh trembles ! 0, some of the angelica- 
 water ! I shall have the mother* presently. 
 
 Green. Hold down her stomach, good Master 
 Featherstone, while I fetch some. [Exit. 
 
 Feath. Well dissembled, Kate. 
 
 Kate. Pish, I am like some of your ladies that 
 can be sick when they have no stomach to lie 
 with then* husbands. 
 
 Feath. What mischievous fortune is this ! We'll 
 have a journey to Ware, Kate, to redeem this 
 misfortune. 
 
 Kate. Well, cheaters do not win always : that 
 woman that will entertain a friend must as 
 well provide a closet or backdoor for him as a 
 feather-bed. 
 
 Feath. By my troth, I pity thy husband. 
 
 Kate. Pity him ! no man dares call him cuckold, 
 for he wears satin : pity him ! he that will pull 
 down a man's sign and set up horns, there's law 
 for him. 
 
 Featk. Be sick again, your husband comes. 
 
 Re-enter Greenshield vith a broken sldii. 
 Green. I have the worst luck ; I think I get 
 more bumps and shrewd turns i'the dark — How 
 does she. Master Featherstone ? 
 
 thi motAer] i. e. hysterical passion. 
 
 Feath. Very ill, su-, she's troubled with the 
 mother extremely : I held down her belly even 
 now, and I might feel it rise. 
 
 Kate. 0, lay me in my bed, I beseech you ! 
 
 Green. I will find a remedy for this walking, if 
 all the doctors in town can sell it : a thousand 
 pound to a penny she spoil not her face, or break 
 her neck, or catch a cold that she may ne'er claw 
 off again. — How dost, wench ? 
 
 Kate. A little recovered. Alas, I have so 
 troubled that gentleman ! 
 
 Feath. None i'the world, Kate : may I do you 
 any fixrther service ? 
 
 Kate. An I were where I would be, in your 
 bed, — pray, pardon me, was't you, Master Feather- 
 stone? — hem, I should be well then. 
 
 Squir. [aside to Leap.] Mark how she wrings 
 him by the fingers. 
 
 Kate. Good night. — Pray you, give the gentle- 
 man thanks for patience. 
 
 Green. Gootl night, sir. 
 
 Feath. You have a shrewd blow; you were 
 best have it searched. 
 
 Green. A scratch, a scratch. 
 
 [Exeunt Greenshield aiid Kate. 
 
 Featk. Let me see, what excuse should I frame, 
 to get this wench forth o'town with me? I'll 
 persuade her husband to take physic, and 
 presently have a letter framed fi'om his father- 
 in-law, to be delivered that morning, for his wife 
 to come and receive some small parcel of money 
 in Eufield-chase, at a keeper's that is her uncle : 
 then, sir, he, not being in case to travel, will 
 entreat me to accompany his wife : we'll lie 
 at Ware all night, and the next morning to 
 London. I'll go strike a tinder, and frame a 
 letter presently. [Exit. 
 
 Squir. And I'll take the pains to discover all 
 this to my master, old Mayberry. There hath 
 gone a report a good while my master hath used 
 them kindly, because they have been over 
 familiar with his wife; but I see which way 
 Featherstone looks. Sfoot, there's ne'er a gen- 
 tleman of them all shall gull a citizen, and think 
 to go scot-free. Though your commons shrink 
 for this, be but secret, and my master shall 
 entertain thee; make thee, instead of handling 
 false dice, finger nothing but gold and silver, 
 wag : an old servingmau turns to a young beggar, 
 whereas a young prentice may turn to an old 
 alderman. WUt be secret ? 
 
 Leap. God, sir, as secret as rushes* in an 
 old lady's chamber. [Exeunt. 
 
 * rushes] See note f, p. 21. ^ 
 
268 
 
 NORTHWAKD HO. 
 
 ACT ir. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 bCENE 1- 
 
 Bntrr BkLIjiIIoXT. in hi* ni^htnij; vt'h Uave$ in hi* 
 hand ; >.>t Njrrin^nau a/ler him, \cH)i lights, ttandijh, 
 an'I yaytr. 
 
 Bell. Sirrah, I'll spenk with none. 
 
 Sen. Not a player ? 
 
 B^L No, though a sharer bawl ; 
 Ml Ki>cak with uono, although it bo the mouth 
 Of the big couipauy ; I'll speak with none : away ! 
 
 [h'xit Senringman. 
 
 ■Why should not I be an excellent statesman ? I 
 can in the writing of a tragedy make Ctcsiir speak 
 botler than ever hia ambition could; when I 
 writ« of Pompey, I have Pompey's soul within 
 me ; and when I personate a worthy poet, I am 
 then truly myself, a poor unpreferred scholar. 
 
 Rt-etUer Scrvingnian tuxttily. 
 
 Sen. Here's a swaggering fellow, sir, that 
 •peftks not like a man of God's making, t swears 
 be muat speak with you, and will speak with 
 you. 
 
 Btll. Not of God's making ! what is he ? a 
 cuckold ] 
 
 Strv. He's a gentleman, Kir, by his clothes. 
 
 Btil. Enter him and his clothes [Exit Serving- 
 mui]: clothoH sometimea are better gentlemen 
 iban their mastArs. 
 
 MitUr CAnAiM JEHKiMsiri//i Borringinau. 
 Im thif bel— Sook you mo, sir) 
 
 [Exit Hcrviofnnan. 
 
 Capt Jen. I sook, sir, God pless you, for a 
 •eiitlemiui that Udks bosidoH to himself when hn's 
 alone, m if he wore in l!«<Uam ; and he's a poet. 
 
 B4IL 80, sir, it may ho you seek me, for I'm 
 ■oueliutM out o' my wits. 
 
 Cap/. Jen. You are a poet, sir, are yo\i ) 
 
 B€lL lui haunted willi a fury, sir. 
 
 C'«/i* Jen. Pray, inaxUr |K)ot, shoot off this 
 Uulo jKit-guii, aiiil I will conjuro your fury ; 'tis 
 w«U Uy : you, air. My dnuroa are to have aoDio 
 
 /J iMitduu. A ruoni lit the Iioum of Delia- 
 
 '<» ^f (lnil'§ moHnfi] 
 ■Hirvo Uwl T 
 
 
 r$ maHmff." 
 I iMtl, Ml V. BO. S. 
 
 amiable and amorous sonnet or madrigal composed 
 by your fury, see you. 
 
 Bell. Are you a lover, sir, of the nine Muses ? 
 
 Capt. Jen. Ow, by gad, out o'cry.* 
 
 Bell. You're, then, a scholar, sir ? 
 
 Capt. Jen. I ha' picked up my cromes in Sesus 
 College in Oxford, one day a gad while ago. 
 
 Bell. You're welcome, you're vei-y welcome. 
 I'll borrow your judgment : look you, sir, I'm 
 writing a tragedy, the tragedy of Young Astyanax. 
 
 Capt. Jen. Styanax' tragedy ! is he living, can 
 you tell ] was not Styanax a Monmouth man ? 
 
 Bell. 0, no, sir, you mistake ; he was a Trojan, 
 great Hector's son. 
 
 Capt. Jell. Hector was grannam to Cadwallader : 
 when she was great with child, God udge mc, 
 there was one young Styauax of Monmouthshire 
 was a madder Greek as any is in all England. 
 
 Bell. This was not he, assure ye. Look you, 
 sir, I will have this tragedy presented in the 
 French court by French gallants. 
 
 Capt. Jen. By God, your Frenchmen will do a 
 tragcdy-enterlude poggy well. 
 
 Bell. It shall be, sir, at the marriages of the 
 Duke of Orleans, and Chatillon the Admiral of 
 France ; the stage 
 
 Capt. Jen. Ud's blood, does Orleans marry 
 with the Admiral of France, now ' 
 
 Bell. O, sir, no, they are two several marriages. 
 As I was saying, the stage hung all with black 
 velvet, and, while 'tis acted, myself will stand 
 behind the Duke of Biron, or some other chief 
 minion or so, who shall, ay, they shall take some 
 occasion, about tlie music of the fourth act, to 
 step to the French king, and say. Sire, voila, il 
 eat votre tres humble sfrvttcur, le plus sage et divin 
 e»prit. Monsieur Billamont, nil in Frencli thus, 
 pointing at mo, or. Yon is the learned old English 
 gentleman. Matter Bellamont, a very Korthy man 
 to be one of your privy chamber or poet laureat. 
 
 Capt. Jen. Butaro you sure Duke Popper-noon 
 will give you such good urds behind your back 
 to your face I 
 
 * out o' cry] t. 0. out of inoosuru. Malmia (note on A$ 
 you (iXy il, act III. hc. '.') thinks it nlhidus to tlio cvistoni of 
 kIvIiik notice by a orlor of tlilnifs to Ikj wild : I mthor bo- 
 llcvo It U (li'ilvnil fiMin tlio I'iivuinatiilioo of 11 |mtsoii 
 \H>\\\tt no fur (llHtitiit tut to bo mmblo to hour .•»iiotlit>r 
 IwnHiii erj'liiK' nflor hhii. Out 0/ all ho, ana out •>/ <i(» 
 tthoopittff, Moiu to bavo tUe aaino moauing. 
 
SCEXE I. 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 269 
 
 Bell. 0, ay, ay, ay, man ; he's the only cour- 
 tier that I know there. But what do you think 
 that I may come to by this ? 
 
 Capt. Jen. God udge me, all France may hap 
 die in yom- debt for this. 
 
 Bell. I am now writing the description of his 
 death. 
 
 Capt. Jen. Did he die in hia ped ? 
 
 Bell. You shall hear. \^Reads. 
 
 "Suspicion is the minion of great hearts" 
 
 No, I will not begin there. Imagine a great man 
 were to be executed about the seventh hour in a 
 gloomy morning. 
 
 Capt. Jen. As it might be Samson or so, or 
 great Golias that was killed by my countryman? 
 
 Bdl. Right, sir ; thus I express it in Young 
 Asfyanax; [Ilea ds . 
 
 "Now the wild people, greedy of their griefs. 
 
 Longing to see that which their thoughts 
 abhorr'd, 
 
 Prevented day, and rode on their own roofs," — 
 
 Capt. Jen. Could the little horse that ambled 
 on the top of Paul's* cany all the people? else 
 how could they ride on the roofs ? 
 
 Bell. 0, sir, 'tis a figure in poetry : mark how 
 'tis followed ; [Heads. 
 
 " rode on their own roofs, 
 
 Making all neighbouring houses tii'd with men.'' 
 " Til'd with men," — is't not good ? 
 
 Capt. Jen. By Sesu, an it were tiled all with 
 naked imen, 'twere better. 
 
 Bell. You shall hear no more ; pick your ears, 
 they are foul, sir. What are you, sir, pray ? 
 
 Capt. Jen. A captain, sir, and a follower of god 
 Mars. 
 
 Bell. Mars, Bacchus, and I love Apollo : a 
 captain! then I pardon you, su-; and, captain, 
 what would you press me for ? 
 
 Capt. Jen. For a witty ditty to a sentleoman 
 that I am fallen in withal, over head and ears in 
 affections and natural desires. 
 
 Bdl. An acrostic were good upon her name, 
 methinks. 
 
 Capt. Jen. Cross sticks ! I wovdd not be too 
 cross, master poet ; yet, if it be best to bring her 
 name in question, her name is Mistress Dorothy 
 Hornet. 
 
 Bell, [aside] The very consumption that wastes 
 
 * the little horse ttMt ambled on the top of Paul's] Banks's 
 famous horse, called Morocco (with which learned animal 
 the commentators on our old poets have made their 
 readers so familiar), is said, among other feats, to have 
 mounted to the top of St. Paul's church. (See note *, p. 17.) 
 
 my son, and the ay-me that hung lately upon 
 me ! — Do you love this Mistress Dorothy? 
 
 Capt. Jen. Love her ! there is no captain's wife 
 in England can have more love put upon her; 
 and yet, I'm sure, captains' wives have their 
 pellies-full of good men's loves. 
 
 Bell. And does she love you ? has there passed 
 any great matter between you ? 
 
 Capt. Jen. As great a matter as a whole coach 
 and a horse and his wife are gone to and fro 
 between us. 
 
 Bell. Is she — i'faith, captain, be valiant and 
 tell truth — is she honest ? 
 
 Capt. Jen. Honest! God udge me, she's as 
 honest as a punk that cannot abide fornication 
 and lecheiy. 
 
 Bell. Look you, captain, I'll show you why I 
 ask : I hope you think my wenching days are 
 past; yet, sir, here's a letter that her father 
 brought me from her, and enforced me to take, 
 this very day. 
 
 Capt. Jen. 'Tis for some love-song to send to 
 me, I hold my life. 
 
 Re-enter Servingman, and whupers Bella mont. 
 
 Bell. This falls out pat.— My man tells me the 
 party is at my door : shall she come in, captain ? 
 
 Capt. Jen. 0, ay, ay, put her in, put her in, I 
 pray now. [Exit Servingman. 
 
 Bell. The letter saya here that she's exceeding 
 sick, and entreats me to visit her. Captain, lie 
 you in ambush behind the hangings, and perhaps 
 you shall hear the piece of a comedy : she comei?, 
 she comes, make yourself away. 
 
 Capt. Jen. [aside] Does the poet play Torkin, 
 and cast my Lucresie's water too in huo-o'er- 
 muggers ? if he do, Styanax' tragedy was never 
 so horrible bloody-minded as his comedy shall 
 be. Taw a son,* Captain Jenkins, 
 
 [Hides himself. 
 Enter Doll. 
 
 Doll. Now, master poet, I sent for you. 
 
 Bell. And I came once at your ladyship's call. 
 
 Boll. My ladyship and your lordship lie both 
 in one manor. You have conjured up a sweet 
 spirit in me, have you not, rhymer? 
 
 Bell. Whj, Medea, what spirit ? Would I were 
 a young man for thy sake ! + 
 
 Doll. So would I, for then thou couldst do me 
 no hurt ; now thou dost. 
 
 * Taw a son] i. e. hold your tongiie. 
 
 t Would I were a you,ng man for thy sate .'] So Shallow 
 in Shakespeare's Merry Wives of Windsor, act i. so. 1 • 
 "Would I were young for your sake, Mistress Anne ! " ' 
 
270 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Bell. If I ''ere » younker, it would be no 
 immodeaty in mo to be seen in thy company; 
 but to have anow in the lap of June, vile, vile 1 
 Yet, come ; gnrlic has a white head and a green 
 ■talk ; • then why should not I < Let's be merry : 
 what nays the devil to all the world ? for I'm sure 
 thou art carnally pot»sfii^cil with him. 
 
 Doll. Thou haat a filthy foot, a very filthy 
 carrier^B foot 
 
 BdL A filtliy ahoe, hut a fine foot : I stand 
 not npon my foot, I. 
 
 Capt. Jen. [atiJe] Wiat stands he upon, then, 
 with a pox. God bless ub? 
 
 J)iJL A leg and a calf ! I have had better of a 
 butcher forty times for carrying a body, — not 
 wortli l)cpgiiig by a barber-surgeon. 
 
 Bell. Very good ; j-ou draw me and quarter 
 mo : fates keep me from hanging ! 
 
 Doll. And which most turns up a woman's 
 ■tomach, thou art nn old hoary man ; thou bast 
 gone over the bridge of many years, and now art 
 ready to drop into a grave : what do I see, then, 
 in that withered face of thine? 
 
 • ffiirtie ).m n vhilt html nnd a frrfrn rliiU-] So in Tli< 
 Hofttil lavitrr, 101(1; " I'm like a leeke, though I have a 
 
 ' ' ' ' • ■• i RTOcnc," ic. Sig. O 2. And so in 
 
 I'l ixKiiiis, Chaucer's iirff'* Proliuriu, 
 
 : wit iiiny bo traced to Roccaccio ; 
 
 " K <i'^K<' *-'•*' t-^'Utro alia mia eOi i>arlaudo vauuo, 
 
 tiujatrK niaX eha eoiinaciuio cho, prrthr U porro iibbia il ctipo 
 
 ' ■ ■ . I rrnlt." Dteauirroitt, — Introduction 
 
 n,t lltmttt Latcyer, I cannot rofVain 
 
 .' <>ut the resemblauco between a (Misiiago in 
 
 I TV n'lJote, • juiut production of Juuaon, 
 
 ! Mtd-UoUm; 
 
 ' all •110, tbo atono, I am pltUAiUy grip'd 
 
 Walntttmd. (Ur, tbo (Umomo la aoinewhat daugeroua. 
 
 ' ' ' Kttnly, itir. 
 
 what intxlirino 
 - • - !'■ iiiunt \h> vliijont 
 <.i>o I. Il, »■ n,c .».|ua l.Tlm . (l.:.t Would a|>eod hlin. 
 I-^' I !vrr Mr " t.V', .1 !,t'!r III |iowdor 
 
 u to thU nt. 
 ' out stouoa 
 i 
 
 I ' '.y A' S. Iflia. Hlif. F 2. 
 
 "'' . ^ ir namo'a aproad. air, for 
 
 I mwna troubtoii witit the atone 
 tiu »..! '..■ f,At tbia murulujt for your ouunaell; 
 It* »Mil4 liav* o«a« (aln. 
 
 i u.< 
 
 MO, Ue aend blni a whole niuakot- 
 
 I. to break tlie altmof 
 
 1.. f 
 
 ■ i 'o-l in ICiJX A4.1 1». ac. 'J, |.. 43. 
 
 Bell. Wrinkles, gravity- 
 Do//. Wretchedness, grief: old fellow, thou 
 hast bewitched me ; I can neither eat for thee, 
 nor sleep for thee, nor lie quietly in my bed for 
 thee. 
 
 Capt. Jen, [aside] Ud's blood, I did never see a 
 wliite flea before. I will cling you. 
 
 Doll. I was bom, sure, in the dog-days, I'm so 
 unlucky : I, in whom neither a flaxen hair, yellow 
 beard, French doublet, nor Spanish hose, youth 
 nor personage, rich face nor money, could ever 
 breed a true love to any, ever to any man, am 
 now besotted, dote, am mad, for the carcass of a 
 man ; and, as if I were a bawd, no ring pleases 
 me but a Death's head.* 
 
 Capt. Jen. [aside] Sesu, are imen so arsy-varsy ? 
 
 Bell, ilad for me ! why, if the worm of lust 
 were wriggling within me as it does in others, 
 dost think I'd crawl upon thee ? would I low 
 after thee, that art a common calf-bearer ? 
 
 Doll. I confess it. 
 
 Capt. Jen. [aside] Do you? are you a town- 
 cow, and confess you bear calves ? 
 
 Doll. I confess I have been an inn for any 
 guest. 
 
 Capt. Jen. [aside] A pogs o' your stable-room ! 
 is your iun a bawdy-house, now? 
 
 Doll. I confess, (for I ha' been taught to hide 
 nothing from my surgeon, and thou art he,) I 
 confess that old stinking surgeon like thyself, 
 whom I call father, that Hornet, never sweat for 
 me ; Fm none of his msdiing. 
 
 Capt. Jen. [aside] You lie ; ho makes you a 
 punk, — Hornet minor. 
 
 Doll. He's but a cheater, and I the false die ho 
 plays withal. I pour all my poison out before 
 thee, because hereafter I will be clean." Shun 
 mo not, loathe mo not, mock me not. Plagues 
 confound thee ! I hate thee to the pit of bell ; 
 
 ' (u if I wfre a baxctl, no ring pltatn nu hut a Pfolh'$ 
 hrail] The bnwda of those days, probably from an nflecta- 
 tion (if |iiety, used to woiir riiiflfs with Death's lu-iul.s on 
 thciu, aa Bovcml |i(U(.<vi);(-8 fhmi old writers might bo 
 adduced to ahow. Hut the wearing of such rliiga was 
 not connued to thoao motherly gciitlowomon : " the oldo 
 CoiintoHao Hpytiig on the fmgor of Seignior Ctwinio a 
 Ring vilh a /V<irA'« haul ingnivm, circled with this Po-nle. 
 Oreaaua ad vltaiii, dcmnunded whether hco ndonle the 
 Signet for prolit or (ilcojiure: Sclgiilor Cosimo 8|)e.iking 
 In tnilh iw hlH coiiHcii-nco wild him. fold licr, tliiif it wiia 
 a fi»vo\ir which a (iontlowonian hml iKJhtowcd uimii him, 
 and that onoly hoe wore it for her aake." Orcone's 
 f.infwW/ fo fo»i>, Slg. n 2, 0<1. Ifil".— Uii<len.vood the 
 I ■ ... I bei|Uciktho<l "to his daughttT Elir.nlHith two HCal- 
 ■ of gold, OIK- iriM (I drtith't-lKail." See Ida will in 
 M .. iio'a Hiit. Act. <y" iIk KnglijJi Slagf, p. 21»'i, od. 
 Iloawall. 
 
SCENE I. 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 271 
 
 yet if thou goest thither, I'll follow thee : ran, 
 ay,* do what thou canst, I'll mn and ride over 
 the world after thee. 
 
 Capt. Jen. [aside] Cockatrice ! — [Co7nes out] 
 You, Mistress Salamanders, that fear no burning, 
 let my mare and my mare's horse, and my coach, 
 come running home again ; and run to an hospital 
 and your surgeons, and to knaves and panders, 
 and to the tivel and his tame too. 
 
 Doll. Fiend, art thou raised to torment me 1 
 
 Bell. She loves you, captain, honestly. 
 
 Capt. Jen. I'll have any man, oman, or cild, by 
 his ears, that says a common drab can love a 
 sentleman honestly. — I will sell my coach for a 
 cart to have you to punk's hall, Pridewell. — I 
 sarge you in Apollo's name, whom you belong to, 
 see her forthcoming, till I come and tiggle her 
 by and by. — 'Sblood, I was never cozened with a 
 more rascal piece of mutton, siace I came out 
 o'the Lawer-Countries. \E:cit. 
 
 Bell. My doors are open for thee : be gone, 
 •woman. 
 
 Doll, This goat's-pizzle of thine — 
 
 Bell. Away ! I love no such implements in my 
 house. 
 
 Doll. Dost not ? am I but an implement ? By 
 all the maidenheads that are lost in London in a 
 year (and that's a great oath), for this trick other 
 manner of women than myself shall come to this 
 house only to laugh at thee ; and if thou wouldst 
 labour thy heart out, thou shalt not do withal.f 
 
 lExit. 
 
 Bell. Is this my poetical fury ? 
 
 Re-enter Servingman. 
 How now, sir ! 
 
 Serv. Master Mayberry and his wife, sir, i'the 
 next ro5m. 
 
 Bell. What are they doing, sirl 
 
 Serv. Nothing, sir, that I see ; but only would 
 speak with you. 
 
 Bell. Enter 'em. [Bxit Servingman.] This 
 bouse will be too hot for me : if this wench cast 
 me into these sweats, I must shift myself for 
 pure necessity. Haunted with sprites in my old 
 days ! 
 
 Enter Matberrt booted, and Mistress Matberry. 
 May. A comedy ! a Canterbury tale smells not 
 
 * a!/] The old ed. " ayd.e." 
 
 t thou shalt not do iHthal] i. e. thou shalt not be able to 
 help it. "It is my infirmity, and I cannot doe withall, 
 to die for't." Chapman's May-Day, 1611, Sig. A 4. 
 "Bears witnes, my masters, if hee dye of a surfet, I can- 
 not doe, withall, it is his owne seeking, not mine." Nash's 
 Have with you to Saffron-vealden, Sig. G 4, ed. 1596. 
 
 half so sweet as the comedy I have for thee, old 
 poet : thou shalt write upon't, poet. 
 
 Bell. Nay, I will write upon't, if 't be a comedy, 
 for I have been at a most villanous female tragedy : 
 come, the plot, the plot. 
 
 May. Let your man give you the boots pre- 
 sently : the plot lies in Ware, my white * poet. — 
 Wife, thou and I this night wiU have mad sport 
 in Ware ; mark me well, wife, in Ware. 
 
 Mist. May. At your pleasure, sir. 
 
 May. Nay, it shall be at your pleasure, wife. — 
 Look you, sir, look you ; Featherstone's boy, like 
 an honest crack-halter, laid open all to one of my 
 prentices ; for boys, you know, like women, love 
 to be doing. 
 
 Bell. Very good : to the plot. 
 
 May. Featherstone, like a crafty mutton- 
 monger, persuades Greenshield to be run through 
 the body. 
 
 Bell. Strange ! through the body ! 
 
 May. Ay, man, to take physic : he does so, he's 
 put to his purgation. Then, sir, what does me 
 Featherstone but counterfeits a letter from an 
 inn-keeper of Doncaster, to fetch Greenshield 
 (who is needy, you know) to a keeper's lodge in 
 Enfield-chase, a certain uncle, where Greenshield 
 should receive money due to him in behalf of his 
 wife? 
 
 Bell. His wife ! is Greenshield married? I have 
 heard him swear he was a bachelor. 
 
 Mist. May. So have I, a hundred times. 
 
 May. The knave has more wives than the 
 Turk ; he has a wife almost in every shire in 
 England : this parcel-gentlewoman is that inn- 
 keeper's daughter of Doncaster. 
 
 Bell. Hath she the entertainment of her fore- 
 fathers ? will she keep all comers company ? 
 
 May. She helps to pass away stale capons, sour 
 wine, and musty provender. But to the purpose : 
 this train was laid by the baggage herself, and 
 Featherstone, who it seems makes her husband a 
 unicorn; and to give fire to't, Greenshield, like an 
 arrant wittol, entreats his friend to ride before 
 his wife and fetch the money, because, taking 
 bitter pills, he should prove but a loose fellow if 
 he went, and so durst not go. 
 
 * uhite] Was employed formerly as an epithet to 
 express fondness : "white boy," "white son," and "white 
 girl," occur frequently in our old writers. I do not re- 
 member to have found it in any author after the time of 
 poor mad Lee, who uses it in a strange passage of the 
 Dedication of his Rival Queens to the Earl of Miilgrave. 
 (Though Mayberry a little after caUs Bellamont "my 
 little hoary poet," we are not to conclude that " white " 
 in the present instance means hoary.) 
 
272 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Bell. And so the poor sUg is to be bunted in 
 Enfield-cbose. 
 
 May. No, sir ; master poet, tbere you miss tbe 
 plot Foatheretone aiul my Lady Greenshield are 
 rid to batter away tlieir light couiuiodities iu 
 Ware ; Enfield-chaso is too cold for 'em. 
 BelL In Ware ! 
 
 May. In dirty Ware.— I forget myselt— Wife, 
 on with your riding-suit, and cry "Northward 
 ho !" a« the boy at Paul's says:' let my prentice 
 get up before thee, and man thee to Ware : lodge 
 in the inn I told thee : spur, cut, an<l away ! 
 i/irt. May. Well, sir. [£-rit. 
 
 Ikll. .Stay, stay ; what's the bottom of this 
 ridillc ] why send you her away ? 
 
 May. For a thing, my little hoary poet. Look 
 thee, I smelt out my noble stinker Greenshield 
 in his chamber, and as though my heart-strings 
 had been cracked. I wept and sighed, and thumped 
 and thumped, and raved and randed and railed, 
 and told him how my wife was now grown as 
 common tun bribery.t and that she had hired her 
 tailor to ride with her to Ware, to meet a gen- 
 tleman of the court 
 
 HtU Good ; and how took he this drench down ? 
 May. Like eggs and muscadine, at a gulp. He 
 cries out presently, "Did not I tell you, old man, 
 that she'd win anyt game when she came to 
 bearing 1" } He nils upon her, wills mo to take 
 her iu the act, to put her to her white sheet, to 
 be divorced, and, for all his tuts are not fully 
 tu-oiirtxl by his pothecary, he's pulling on his 
 boot«, oikI will ride along with us. Let's muster 
 ta many aa wo can. 
 
 Bell. It will be excellent sport to see him and 
 bia own wife meet in Ware, will't not? Ay, ay, 
 we'll liavo a whole regiment of hor«o with us. 
 May. I stand upon thonis || 
 
 Till I ahake him bj the horm*. — 
 
 • fry ■• .V rl!.,i.,r-l f.n ' " ,i$ tUt fc«y at Paul'l tay$] I 
 |w«> ' "I'mil'ii }V),ar/. or St. 
 
 Mtm' iini fiT Wat^mion." 
 
 h,. V. . ...-rw^ . . I- -HI...I, ur. U. 111. |.. ■^•J», ed. IT'.'O. 
 
 '•»ndni 
 T*Vr MKir, .tt PtuV* wlukff, and overtake you." 
 V <M4 tlaiJ )« CAMipfM*,— Wurka. W. 70, 
 
 t • 'MMUlKiry" (which. ■iipiMMltiif It 
 
 l«i I ' »»o a li«l>e," t'juiliut bo rii;ht> 
 
 I Wm ■ tami at the (punoe of IrUh and b^ok- 
 
 ■ mtt to b<itriitg." 
 ■'■I -•"(> «tr<.-MWdlelOli'« 
 
 " ' when you eowu to 
 
 '••' I'UiJ Uamtiter, j»p. 
 
 I**A •-' ' '. ^<' J yj. U U»U • quoUUont 
 
 Come, boots, boy ! we must gallop all the way ; 
 
 for the sin, you know, is done with turning up 
 
 the white of an eye : will you join your forces 1 
 
 Bell. Like a Hollander against a Dunkirk.* 
 
 May. March, then. — This curse is on all lechera 
 
 thrown. 
 
 They give horns, and at last horns are their own. 
 
 [Extunt. 
 
 SCENE ILt 
 Enier Captain Jenkins and Allum. 
 Capt. Jen. Set the best of your little diminutive 
 legs before, and ride post, I p«"«y- 
 
 Allum. Is it possible that Mistress Doll should 
 be so bad 1 
 
 Capt. Jen. Possible ! 'sblood, 'tis more easy for 
 an Oman to be naught than for a soldier to beg ; 
 and that's homble easy, you know. 
 
 AUum. Ay, but to cony-catch us all so grossly! 
 Capt. Jen. Your Norfolk tumblers are but 
 zanies to cony-"catching punks. 
 
 Allum. She gelded my purse of fifty pounds in 
 ready money. 
 
 Capt. Jen. I ■will geld all the horses in five 
 hundred shires but I will ride over her and her 
 cheaters and her Hornets. She made a stark ass 
 of my coach-hoi-se : and there is a putter-box 
 whom she spread thick upon her white bread, 
 and eat him up ; I think she has sent the poor 
 fellow to Gelder-land : but I will marse pravely 
 in and out, and pack again, upon all the Low- 
 Countries in Christendom, as Holland and Zealand 
 and Netherland, and Cleveland too; and I will 
 be drunk and cast^ with Master Hans Van Bolch 
 but I will smell him out. 
 
 Allum. Do so, and we'll draw all our afrows of 
 revenge up to the head but we'll hit her for her 
 villaiiy. 
 
 Capt. Jen. I will traw ns potter and as ui-so 
 weapons as arrows up to the lunul, lug you ; it 
 shall bo wan-ants to give her th** whip-doedle. 
 
 Allum. IJut now she knows she's discovered, 
 she'll take her bolls § and lly out of our reach. 
 
 Capt. Jen. Fly with her pells! ounds, I know 
 a iNirish that sal t^ig down all the pells luul sell 
 'em to CapUtin .Icnkins, to do him good ; and if 
 pell[8] will tly. we'll lly too, unless the pell ropes 
 hang UH. Will you amble up and down to Ma-stcr 
 Justice by my side, to have this rascal Hornet in 
 
 • <t f>u»ilirl) 8eo note t, p. 864. 
 » .VriK // I The aaina A ■treat. 
 J en$l\ I ,- vomit. 
 I taU Kfr h4lU, *c.] I o liko a fiiloon. 
 
SCENE 111. 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 273 
 
 corum, and so to make her hold her whore's 
 peace 1 
 
 Allum. I'll amble or trot with you, captain. 
 You told me she threatened her champions 
 should cut for her : if so, we may have the peace 
 of her. 
 
 Capt. Jen. Omondieu/ Duw gwyn.'* Follow 
 your leader. Jenkins shall cut and slice as worse 
 as they : come, I scorn to have any peace of her 
 or of any oman,t but open wars. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE lU.t 
 
 Enter Bellamont, Mayberry, Greenshield, Philip, 
 Leverpool, and Chartley, all booted. 
 
 Bell. What, will these young gentlemen too 
 help us to catch this fresh salmon, ha? Philip, 
 are they thy friends 1 
 
 Phil. Yes, sir. 
 
 Bell. We are beholding to you, gentlemen, that 
 you'll fill our consort : I ha' § seen your faces 
 methinks before, and I cannot inform myself ! 
 where. 
 
 Lever., \ 
 
 aar<.,r^^y^"'°'^""- 
 
 Bell. Shall's to horse ? here's a tickler : || heigh, 
 to horse ! 
 
 May. Come, switch and spurs ! let's mount 
 our chevals : merry, quoth a.' 
 
 Bell. Gentlemen, shall I shoot a fool's bolt out 
 among you all, because we'll be sure to be merry ? 
 
 Omnes. What is't ? 
 
 Bell. For mirth on the highway will make us 
 rid ground^ faster than if thieves were at our 
 tails. What say ye to this? let's all practise 
 jests one against another, and he that has the 
 best jest thrown upon him, and is most galled, 
 between our riding forth and coming in, shall 
 bear the charge of the whole journey. 
 
 Omnes. Content, i'faith. 
 
 Bell. We shall fit one o'you with a coxcomb at 
 Ware, I believe. 
 
 May. Peace! 
 
 * Ouw gw2/n\ i. e. white God : the old copy " u dguin." 
 
 t oman\ The old ed. "onarii." 
 
 X Scene III.] Near Bedlam; to which they presently 
 "cross ovei\" 
 
 § /ire'] The old ed. "Jio." 
 
 II a tickler] He means his switch. 
 
 Tj rid ()7-oundJ i. e. get over ground : the expression is 
 now, I believe, obsolete ; and I was rather surprised to 
 find it used so recently as in a letter from Richai'dsou, 
 the novelist, to Lady Bradshaigli ; "a regular even 
 pace, stealing away ground, rather than seeming to rid 
 it." Correspondtnce, vol. iv. 291. 
 
 Green. Is't a bargain 1 
 
 Omnes. And hands clapt upon it. 
 
 Bell. Stay, yonder's the Dolphin without 
 Bishopsgate, where our horses are at rack and 
 manger, and we are going past it. Come, cross 
 over: — and what place is this? 
 
 May. Bedlam, is't not ? 
 
 Bell. Where the madmen are : I never was 
 amongst them : as you love me, gentlemen, let's 
 see what Greeks are within. 
 
 Green. We shall stay too long. 
 
 Bell. Not a whit: Ware will stay for our 
 
 coming, I warrant you. Come, a spurt and 
 
 away! let's be mad once in our days. This is 
 
 the door. \_Knocks. 
 
 Enter Fullmoon. 
 
 May. Save you, sir ! may we see some o' your 
 mad folks ? do you keep 'em 1 
 
 Full. Yes. 
 
 Bell. Pray, bestow your name, sir, upon us. 
 
 Full. My name is Fullmoon. 
 
 Bell. You well deserve this ofiice, good Master 
 Fullmoon : and what madcaps have you in your 
 house ] 
 
 Full. Divers. 
 
 Enter a Musician.* 
 
 May. God's so, see, see! what's he walks 
 yonder 1 is he mad 1 
 
 Full. That's a musician ; yes, he's besides 
 himself 
 
 BcU. A musician ! how fell he mad, for God's 
 sake \ 
 
 Full. For love of an Italian dwarf. 
 
 Bell. Has he been in Italy, then ] 
 
 Full. Yes, and speaks, they say, all manner of 
 languages. 
 
 Enter a Bawd. 
 
 Omnes. God's so, look, look ! what's she? 
 
 Bell. The dancing bear, a pretty well-favoured 
 little woman. 
 
 Full. They say, but I know not, that she was 
 a bawd, and was frighted out of her wits by fire. 
 
 Bell. May we talk with 'em. Master Fullmoon ? 
 
 Full. Yes, an you will. I must look about, for 
 I have unruly tenants. {E.cit. 
 
 Bell. What have you in this paper, honest 
 friend ? 
 
 Green. Is this he has all manner of languages, 
 yet speaks none ? 
 
 Bawd. How do you. Sir Andrew? will you 
 send for some aqua-vitse for me ? I have had no 
 drink never since the last great rain that fell. 
 
 * Musician] The old ed., by a misprint, " Phisition." 
 
274 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 ACT JV. 
 
 BtU. No? that's ■ lie. 
 
 Bawd. Nay, by gad, then, you lie, for all you're 
 Sir Andrew. I was a dapjicr roguo in Portingal 
 voyage,* not an inch broad at the heel, and yet 
 thus high : I Bcomed, I can tell you, to be drunk 
 with rain-water then, sir, in those golden and 
 silver days ; I ha<i sweet bits then, Sir Andrew. 
 How do you, good brother Timothy ? 
 
 Ml. You have been in much trouble since 
 that vovago^ 
 
 Haicd. Never in Bridewell, I protest, as I'm a 
 Tirgin, for I could never abide that Bridewell, I 
 protest. I was once sick, and I took my water 
 in a basket, and carried it to a doctor 'a. 
 
 Pkdip. In a basket I 
 
 Haw J. Yes, sir : you arrant fool, there wa-s a 
 urinal in it. 
 
 Philip. I cry you mercy. 
 
 Bawd. The doctor told mo I w.as with child. 
 How many lords, knights, gentlemen, citizens, and 
 others, promised mo to bo godfathci-s to that 
 child ! 'twiia not God's will : the prentices mu'lc 
 a riot upon my ghws windows, the Shrove-Tuesday 
 foUowing.t and I miscarried. 
 
 Omncs. O, do not weep ! 
 
 Bawd. I ha' cause to weep: I trust gentle- 
 women their diet sometimes a fortnight; lend 
 gcntlomon holknd shirts, and they sweat 'em out 
 at tennis ; and no restitution, and no restitution. 
 But I'll tike a now order : I will have but si.x 
 Bt«wed prune* J in a dish, and some of Mother 
 Wall's cttke«;J for my bo«t customers are 
 tAtlurK 
 
 <tlU<M 
 
 h)rtuiial voyage was the exfie- 
 
 .r of Olio liuiiJnxl and eighty 
 
 .'.'I iiifii, coiniiiaiKlod by 
 
 . .Nurrin: It ih tfoiii-mlly 
 
 ■ r Iho |>ur|>oiM) of Nvatiiig 
 
 uo oi l'.,iiii,{]tl ; but llio bravuvoliiii- 
 
 I it Woro liiuat prr.lKll.ly oxcitod to tho 
 
 '-' tliciiiRolvos on 
 
 i/tat$ %e'\n.lov$, tht 
 
 riiomlny wm a lioli.lay 
 
 ilioy ukmI to Iw oxcciHi- 
 
 ». :»l.l l.i <.llr.„j,l (., dfllnolUh hoUSM of Uul 
 
 . II, <■ .U 
 
 .,f .,11 ,l--. ,-. 
 
 |i*aO< 
 
 •■'•iirB, 
 
 ■ M.lll, 
 
 iiioii foAri), 
 
 lUt. jnS4, H[g. I) 
 ■ (lio 
 
 All 
 
 M.lo.1 
 
 ■> Hnifiuk-fHfH /or 
 
 I^iikIi.ii atiiiio IW 
 
 i.f ilothtr Walla 
 
 Omnes. Tailors ! ha, ha ! 
 
 Bawd. Ay, tailors: give me your London 
 prentice ; your country gentlemen are grown too 
 politic. 
 
 Bell. But what say you to such young gentle- 
 men as those are ? 
 
 Bawd. Fob ! they, as soon as they come to 
 their lauds, get up to London, and, like squibs 
 that run upon lines,* they keep a spitting of fire 
 and cracking till they ha' spent all ; and when my 
 squib is out, what says his punk ? fob, he stinks ! 
 
 Mf thought, thit othtr night 1 taw a pretty tight. 
 
 Which pleafid mt much, — 
 A comtly country mavl, not squeamith nor a/raid 
 
 To Ul genllem^n touch : 
 I told her maidenhead once, and J told her maidenheoil tvicf, 
 I And I told it latt to an alderman of York ; 
 And then J had told it thrice. 
 
 Mus.f You sing scurvily. 
 
 Bawd. Marry, muff,t sing thou better, for I'll 
 go sleep my old sleeps. [Exit, 
 
 Bell. What are you a-doing, my friend ? 
 
 Mus. Pricking, pricking. 
 
 Bell. What do you mean by pricking ? 
 
 Mm. a gcutleman-like quality. 
 
 Bell. This fellow is somewhat prouder and 
 sulleuer than the other. 
 
 May. 0, so be most of your musicianR. 
 
 Mits. Are my teeth rotten ! 
 
 Omnes. No, sir. 
 
 Mus. Then I am no comfit-maker nor vintaer : 
 I do not get wenches in my drinL — Ai-e you a 
 musician ? 
 
 Bell. Ye.i. 
 
 Mus. We'll bo sworn brothers, then, look you, 
 sweet rogue. 
 
 Green. God's so, now I think upon't, a jest 
 is crept into my head : steal away, if you 
 love mo. 
 
 • lik-e npiilit that ruti upon lirut, &c.] So Manton, iu bis 
 Partuitiittrr, or the Fawne, 1006; 
 
 " Page. Tlioro bo squibs, sir, which HqililM r.iniiiii|f 
 U|Hin lluoii, like smiia nf our jfiiw.lio i^illiuit.i, Kir, lvi-o|io 
 a Buiotlior, sir, witli flisliing and tl:i.sliiii(.'. ;iud iu tlio 
 cud. Hlr, tlioy do«, sir 
 
 A'yin;iA(i({iiro. Wliat, sir? 
 
 I'a</f. Stink, Hir." Sij;. B. 
 
 Ill A Rich Cohtiut, xrith Varitly of Invention*, d'C, 1(161, 
 by J. Wliito, iiro iiistnictious " llow to inako your fln>- 
 work* to niu u|>ou a Uno backward aud forward." 
 
 t Mutieian] llcfora tlio H.iwifs song In tlio old o<l. is 
 a miUfu dirootii.ii, •• Kntrr tht Mutition.- " but it di>cii not 
 a|>|wjir tlmt lio li:i,l .julltod tlio nooiio. 
 
 t .V.irry, titiiir\ \ not uiiooiuiiu.ii axprcitMli.ii in <mr old 
 wrltpm (ciuivtilont, I IhjUovo, to— Stiiir, noimonno). 8o 
 Mlddloton; "Woarlod, air! marry, muJI'/" liluH, Mader 
 l>tnttatAt,— Workt, I. ai8. o«i. Dyco. 
 
aOENE TTI. 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 275 
 
 [Exeunt Greenshield, Maybeery, Philip, Leverpool, 
 and Chartley. Musician si7igs.* 
 
 Mus. Was ever any merchaut's band set better? 
 I set it. Walk, I'm a-cold : this white satin is too 
 thin unless it be cut, for then the sun enters. 
 Can you speak Italian too 1 sapete Italiano ? 
 
 Bell. Un poco. 
 
 Mm. 'Sblood, if it be in you, I'll poke it out 
 of you : un poco ! Come, march : lie here with 
 me but till the fall of the leaf, and if you have 
 but poco Italiano in you, I'll fill you full of more 
 poco: march. 
 
 Bell. Come on. \_Exeunt. 
 
 Re-enter Greenshield, Mayberry, Philip, Leverpool, 
 Chartley, and Fullmoon. 
 
 Green. Good Master Mayberry, Philip, if you 
 be kind gentlemen, uphold the jest : your whole 
 voyage is paid for. 
 May. Follow it, then. 
 
 Fidl. The old gentleman, say you ? why, he 
 talked even now as well in his wits as I do 
 myself, and looked as wisely. 
 
 Green. No matter how he talks, but his 
 pericranion's perished. 
 Full. Where is he, pray 1 
 
 PJulip. Marry, with the musician, and is madder 
 by this time. 
 
 Chart. He's an excellent musician himself, you 
 must note that. 
 
 May. And having met one fit for his own tooth, 
 you see he skips from us. 
 
 Green. The troth is, Master Fullmoon, divei's 
 trains liave been laid to bring him hither without 
 gaping of people, and never any took effect till 
 now. 
 
 Full. How fell he mad ? 
 
 Green. For a woman. Look you, sir ; here's a 
 crown, to provide his supper. He's a gentleman 
 of a very good house : you shall be paid well if 
 you convert him. To-morrow morning bedding 
 and a gown shall be sent in, and wood and coal. 
 Full. Nay, sir, he must ha' no fire. 
 Green. No ? why, look what straw you buy for 
 him shall return you a whole harvest. 
 
 Onines. Let his straw be fresh and sweet, we 
 beseech you, sir. 
 
 Green. Get a couple of your sturdiest fellows, 
 and bind him, I pray, whilst we slip out of his 
 sight. 
 
 Full. I'll hamper him, I warrant, gentlemen. 
 
 [Exit. 
 Omnes. Excellent ! 
 
 * Musician sings'] See note t. P- 45. 
 
 May. But how will my noble poet take it at 
 my hands, to betray him thus ] 
 
 Onines. Fob, 'tis but a jest. Becomes. 
 
 Re-enter the Musician and Bellamont. 
 
 Bell. Perdonate mi, si io dimando del vostro 
 name. — 0, whither shrunk you % I have had such 
 a mad dialogue here. 
 
 Omnes. We ha' been with the other mad folks. 
 
 May. And what says he and his prick-song ] 
 
 Bell. We were up to the ears in Italian, i'faith. 
 
 Omnes. In Italian ! O good Master Bellamont, 
 let's hear him. 
 
 Re-enter FuLuaooN u-ith two Keepers : they lay hold on 
 Bellamont, while Mayberry, Greenshield, Philip, 
 Leverpool and Chartley steal away. 
 
 Bell. How now! 'sdeath, what do you mean? 
 are you mad 1 
 
 Full. Away, sirrah ! — Bind him ; hold fast. — 
 You want a wench, sirrah, do you ? 
 
 Bell. What wench] will you take mine arms 
 from me, being no heralds? let go, you dogs. 
 
 Full. Bind him. — Be quiet : come, come ; dogs ! 
 fie, and a gentleman ! 
 
 Bell. Master Mayberry, Philip, Master Mayberry, 
 ud's foot ! 
 
 Full. I'll bring you a wench : are you mad for 
 a wench ? 
 
 Bell. I hold my life, my comrades have put 
 this fool's-cap upon thy head, to gull thee* : I 
 smell it now : why, do you hear, Fullmoon ? let 
 me loose, for I'm not mad; I'm not mad, by Jesu. 
 
 Fidl. Ask the gentlemen that. 
 
 Bell. By the Lord, I'm as well in my wits as 
 any man i'the house, and this is a trick put upon 
 thee by these gallants in pure knavery. 
 
 Full. I'll try that ; answer me to this question : — 
 loose his arms a little: — look you, sir; three 
 geese nine pence, every goose three pence, what's 
 that a goose, roundly, roundly, one with another? 
 
 Bell. 'Sfoot, do you bring your geese for me 
 to cut up? [^Strihcs him soundly, and kicJcs him. 
 
 Re-enter Mayberry, Greenshield, Philip, Leverpool, 
 and Chartley. 
 
 Omnes. Hold, hold!— Bind him, Master Full- 
 moon. 
 
 Full. Bind him you : he has paid me all : I'll 
 have none of his bonds, not I, unless I could 
 recover them better. 
 
 Green. Have I given it you, master poet ? did 
 the lime-bush take ? 
 
 3Iay. It was his warrant sent thee to Bedlam, 
 
 * thee] Old ed. "me." (compare Bellamont's next speech.) 
 
 T 2 
 
276 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 old Jack Bellamont : and. Master FuU-i'-the-moon, 
 our warrant discharges him. — Poet, we'll all rido 
 upon thee to Ware, and back again, I fear, to thy 
 cost. 
 
 JieJl. If you do, I must bear you. — Thank you, 
 MaBt4^>r Qi-cenabield ; I will not die in your debt. 
 — Farewell, you mad rascals. — To horse, come. — 
 'Tin well done, 'twa« well done. You may laugh, 
 you shall laugh, gcntlumen. If the gudgeon had 
 been swallowed by one of you, it had been vile; 
 
 but, by gad, 'tis nothing, for your best poets, 
 indeed, iire mad for the most part — Farewell, 
 good man Full moon. 
 
 Fail. Pray, gentlemen, if you come by, call in. 
 
 [ExU. 
 
 Bell. Ye3, yes, when they are mad. — Horse 
 yourselves now, if you be men. 
 
 May. He gallop must that after women rides : 
 Get our wives out of town, they t;ike long strides. 
 
 [Exmnt. 
 
 ACT V 
 
 SCENE I.* 
 i: •t(T llAVHKiuir oFu/ Bellamont. 
 May. Hut why have you brought us to the 
 wron^ inn, and withal possessed Greenshield that 
 my wife is not in town? when my project was, 
 that I would have brought him up into the 
 chaiid>er whore young Feathcretone and his wife 
 Uy, and h« idl his artillery should have recoiled 
 into his own bosom. 
 
 Ildl. O, it will full out far better: you shall see 
 ray ruveugo will have a more neat and unexpected 
 convfj-anc«. He hath boon all up and down the 
 town to inquire for a Londoner's wife: none such 
 u to b« found, for I liave mewed your wife up 
 alrrndy. Marrj-, he hears of a Yorkshire gentlo- 
 woniui at next inn, and that's all the commodity 
 Ware atrinU at this inxtant. Now, sir, he verj' 
 |M>liliely itiiagiuon that your wife is rode to Puck- 
 cridKo, five milo further ; for. siiith lie, in such a 
 t .wii, where huitii will bo familiar, and tiipsters 
 ■■i ,.v, nn.l flimnlierlaiuH woreo than thieves' 
 y'll never put foot out of stirrup; 
 . Ige or Wiulo's Mill, sjiith ho, you 
 "li.i liud Ujoui ; and becuuso our horses are 
 w-TV, he's gone to Uku uji post-horse. My 
 ••■<ii.»..| is only this, -when bo conios in, feign 
 i..iir»r|f very moLuicholy, iwear you will rido no 
 furthrr; and this is your part of the comedy: 
 
 ' '^ " ' "f ll'o jo»t HJiiUI como like money 
 
 ' tt curtier. und |>jiid within the day, 
 • :id unnxporto I. 
 I 1ml. 
 " '>liir«. 
 
 tfHttr UmUKsIIIBUI. 
 
 llaiiU, tho |MMithonM «r« mody ; 
 '•f an Uour'a riding ; we'll forrct 
 U*Mtt and flrk litem, in faith. 
 
 • .V,,. / I w,,„ A rNMa lu au liui 
 
 I/. 
 
 Bell. Are they grown politic? when do you see 
 honesty covet corners, or a gentleman that's no 
 thief lie in the inn of a carrier ? 
 
 May. Nothing hath undone my wife but too 
 much riding. 
 
 Bell. She was a pretty piece of a poet indeed, 
 and in her discourse would, as many of your 
 gold-smiths' wives do, draw her simile from 
 precious stones so wittily, as " redder than your 
 ruby," "harder than your diamond," and so from 
 stone to stone in less time than a man can draw 
 on a strait boot, as if sho had been an excellent 
 lapidary. 
 
 Green. Come, will you to horse, sir .' 
 
 May. No, let her go to the devil, an sho will : 
 I'll not stir a foot further. 
 
 Green. God's precious, is't come to this? — 
 Persuade him, as you are a gentleman : there 
 will be ballads made of him, and tho burden 
 thereof will be, — 
 
 " Ij you • had rfhU otUfive miu- iorin,irJ, 
 Ihhiul found Uirfatiil hou.it of Brtiiiyfonl northwarxi ,• 
 hone, hont, honr, nutiero .' " 
 
 lirll. You are merry, sir. 
 
 Urren. Like your citizen, I never thiuk of my 
 debts when I am ahorseback. 
 
 Ikll. You imagiuo you are riding from your 
 oreilitors. 
 
 Grten. (Jood, in faith. — Will you to horse ? 
 
 May. I'll rido no further. [E.nt. 
 
 (iiten. Then I'll ilischiirgo tho postnukntor. — 
 Waa't not u pn-tty wit of mine, master poet, to 
 have hail him rode into Puckoridgo with a horn 
 before him 1 ha, was't not? 
 
 JicU. Goo«l fioiith, oxeollcMjt: 1 wiw dull in 
 
 • if not »««', *o. ] Qy. '• If ho kad," Ac ? or oIm in tho 
 nesl liuo "You katl/ountt," &ot Com|iaro what K.iw 
 •liiipi III |>. -JTS. 
 
NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 277 
 
 apprehending it. But, come, since we must stay, 
 we'll be merry. — Chamberlain, call in the music, 
 bid the tapsters and maids come up and dance ! — 
 What ! we'll make a night of it. 
 
 £nter Chamberlain, Fiddlers, Tapsters, and Maids. 
 Hark you, masters, I have an excellent jest to 
 make old Mayberry merry : 'sfoot, we'll have him 
 merry. 
 
 Green. Let's make him drunk, then : a simple 
 catching wit I ! 
 
 Bell. Go thy ways : I know a nobleman would 
 take such a delight in thee. 
 
 Green. Why, so he would in his fool. 
 
 Bell. Before God, but he would make a differ- 
 ence ; he would keep you in satin. But as I was 
 a-saying, we'll have him merry. His wife is gone 
 to Puckeridge : 'tis a wench makes him melan- 
 choly, 'tis a wench must make him merry : we 
 must help him to a wench. When your citizen 
 comes into his inn, dropping-wet and cold,* either 
 the hostess or one of her maids warms his bed, 
 pulls on his night-cap, cuts his corns, puts out 
 the candle, bids him command aught, if he want 
 aught; and so after, master citizen+ sleeps as 
 quietly as if he lay in his own Low-Country of 
 Holland, his own linen, I mean, sir. We must 
 have a wench for him. 
 
 Green, But where's this wench to be found 1 
 here are all the moveable petticoats of the house. 
 
 Bell. At the next inn there lodged to-night 
 
 Green. God's precious, a Yorkshire gentlewo- 
 man. I ha't, I'll angle for her presently : we'll 
 have him merry. 
 
 Bell. Procure some chamberlain to pander for 
 you. 
 
 Green. No, I'll be pander myself, because we'll 
 be merry. 
 
 Bell. Will you, will you ? 
 
 Green. But how ! be a pander ! as I am a 
 gentleman, that were horrible. I'll thrust 
 myself into the outside of a falconer in town 
 here ; and now I think on't, there are a company 
 of country players, that are come to town here, 
 shall furnish me with hair and beard. If I do 
 not bring her ! — We'll be wondrous merry. 
 
 Bell. About it ; look you, sir, though she bear 
 her far aloof, and her body out of distance, so 
 her mind be coming, 'tis no matter. 
 
 Green. Get old Mayberry merry. That any 
 man should take to heart thus the downfal 
 
 * drox>ping-wet and cold] The old ed. "wet and cold 
 dropping. " 
 
 t citizen] The old ed. " cittiner." 
 
 of a woman ! I think when he comes home, 
 poor snail, he'll not dare to peep forth of doors 
 lest his horns usher him. [Exit. 
 
 Bell. Go thy ways. There be more in England 
 wear large ears and horns than stags and asses. 
 Excellent ! he rides post with a halter about his 
 neck. 
 
 Re-enter Mayberry. 
 
 3Iay. How now ! will't take ? 
 
 Bell. Beyond expectation : I have persuaded 
 him the only way to make you merry is to help 
 you to a wench, and the fool is gone to pander 
 his own wife hither. 
 
 May. Why, he'll know her. 
 
 Bell. She hath been masked ever since she 
 came into the inn for fear of discovery. 
 
 May. Then she'll know him. 
 
 Bell. For that his own unfortunate wit helped 
 my lazy invention, for he hath disguised himself 
 like a falconer in town here, hoping in that pro- 
 curing shape to do more good upon her than in 
 the outside of a gentleman. 
 
 May. Young Featherstone will know him. 
 
 Bell. He's gone into the town, and will not 
 return this half hour, 
 
 3Iay. Excellent, if she would come. 
 
 Bell. Nay, upon my life, she'll come. When 
 she enters, remember some of your young blood, 
 talk as some of your gallant commoners will, 
 dice, and drink freely; do not call for sack, lest 
 it betray the coldness of your manhood; but 
 fetch a caper now and then, to make the gold 
 chink in your pockets, — ay, so. 
 
 May. Ha, old poet, let's once stand to it for 
 the credit of Milk-street ! Is my wife acquainted 
 with this ? 
 
 Bell. She's perfect, and will come out upon her 
 cue, I warrant you. ■ 
 
 3fay. Good wenches, in faith. — Fill's some 
 more sack here. 
 
 Bell. God's precious, do not call for sack by 
 any means. 
 
 May. Why, then, give us a whole lordship 
 for life in Rhenish, with the reversion in 
 sugar. 
 
 Bell. Excellent I 
 
 May. It were not amiss, if we were dancing. 
 
 Bell. Out upou't ! I shall never do it. 
 
 Re-enter Greenshield disguised, with Kate masi:ed. 
 
 Gi-ecn. Out of mine nostrils, tapster ! thou 
 
 smellest, like Guildhall two days after Simon 
 
 and Jude, of drink most horribly. — Off with thy 
 
 mask, sweet sinner of the north : these mask.s 
 
278 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 AfT V. 
 
 are foils to good facee, and to bad ones they are 
 like new satin outsides to lotuy linings. 
 
 Katt. O, by no means, sir. Your merchant 
 will not open a whole jiiece to his best customer: 
 be that buys a woman must take her as she falls. 
 I'll uuraabk my hand ; here's the sample. 
 
 Green. Go to, then, old poet. I have ta'en 
 her up already as a pinnace bound for the straits : 
 she knows her burden yonder. 
 
 lielL L;idy, you are welcome. Yon is the old 
 gentleman ; and observe him, he's not one of 
 your fut city chuffs, whose great belly argues that 
 the felicity of his life consists in capon, sack, and 
 sincere honesty ; but a lean, spare, bountiful 
 gidlaut, one that hath an old wife and a young 
 performance ; whose reward is not the rate of a 
 captain newly come out of tho Low-Countries, 
 or a Yorkshire attorney in good contentious 
 practice, some angel, — no, the proportion of 
 your wealthy citizen to his wench is her chamber, 
 her diet, her physic, her apparel, her painting, 
 lier munkey, her pander, her every thing. You'll 
 say, your young gentleman is your only service, 
 that lies before you like a calf's head, with his 
 brains some half yard from him ; but, I assure 
 you, they must not only have variety of foolery, 
 but also of wenches : whereas your conscionable 
 greybeard of Farringdon-within will keep himself 
 Ui tho ruins of one cast waiting-woman an age, 
 and |>erliapM, when he's past all other good works, 
 to wij* out false weights and twenty i' the hun- 
 dred, marry her. 
 
 Urten. O, well bowled, Tom ! * wo have 
 precodenta for't 
 
 Kate. But 1 have a husband, sir. 
 
 Heit. You have ? If the knave thy husband be 
 rich, make him poor, that ho may borrow money 
 of thiji merchant, and bu laid up in tho Counter 
 or Ludgate ; ho it shall be conscience in you [r] 
 oKi K«utlomku, wljen lie hath seized all thy goods. 
 to Uka thco homo t and maintain thoe. 
 
 UrrtH, O, well b<iwlad, Tom ! • wo liavo prece- 
 dent* fur'L 
 
 KuU. Well, if you bo not u uobleiuan, you lU'o 
 •omo grtsil valiiuit goutlomau by your breath J 
 anil iho ftwhtou of your l*oard, and do but thus 
 Uj tuako tlio oilixen merry, bueuuso you owe him 
 •UIU0 luunoy. 
 
 IML (J, you aro a wa^. 
 
 l/«jf You ore very woloouie. 
 
 •I, tho ..l.l »t. luui •, 
 
 I •■U.n l„,,„n •• 
 
 Oreen. He is ta'en ; excellent, excellent ! there's 
 one will make him merry. Is it any imputation 
 to help one's friend to a wench 1 
 
 Bell. No more than at my lord's entreaty to 
 help my lady to a pretty waiting woman. If he 
 had given you a gelding, or the reversion of 
 some monopoly, or a new suit of satin, to have 
 done this, happily* your satin would have smelt of 
 the pander : but what's done freely, comes, like a 
 present to an old lady, without any reward ; and 
 what is done without any reward, comes, like 
 wounds to a soldier, very honourably notwith- 
 standing. 
 
 May. This is my breeding, gentlewoman : and 
 whither travel you ■ 
 
 Kate. To London, sir, as the old tale goes, to 
 seek my fortune. 
 
 May. Shall I be your fortune, lady ? 
 
 Kate. 0, pardon me, sir; I'll have some young 
 hmded heir to be my fortune, for they favour 
 she-fools more than citizens. 
 
 May. Are you married ? 
 
 Kate. Yes, but my husband is in garrison i' the 
 Low-Countries, is his colonel's bawd, and his 
 captain's jester: he sent me word over that he 
 will thrive, for though his apparel lie i' the Lom- 
 bard, he keeps his conscience i' the muster-book. 
 
 May. He may do his country good service, lady. 
 
 Kate. Ay, as many of your captains do, that 
 fight, as tho geese saved the Capitol, only with 
 pnittling. Well, well, if I were in some noble- 
 man's hands now, may be he would not take a 
 thousand pounds for me. 
 
 May. No ? 
 
 Kate, No, sir; and yet may be at year's end 
 would give mo a bnice of hundred pounds to 
 marry me to his baily or tho solicitor of his 
 law-suits. — Who's this, I beseech you \ 
 
 filter MiKTit ess MAVliEnRv, her hair lottte, trWi .' . 
 
 lliistoss. 
 J/ott. I pniy you, forsooth, bo patient. 
 Hell. Passion of my heart. Mistress Mayborry ! 
 [Ksi-uiit Chunilic-rliiiii, Fiddlers, 'rnpstcrs, <irij )l:iid.v 
 
 Grcrn. [asule] Now will sho put some notoblu 
 trick upon her cuckoldly husband. 
 
 May. Wliy, how now, wife ! what means this, 
 ha? 
 
 Mial. May. Well, 1 am very well. my 
 unfortunate parents, would you had burio«l me 
 <|uick, when you linked mo to this misery t 
 
 May. () wife, bo patient ! 1 have more cause ti> 
 rail, wife. 
 
 ' hajipilf] I. u. hu|ity. 
 
NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 279 
 
 Mist. May. You have ! prove it, prove it. 
 Where's the courtier you should have ta'en in my 
 bosom ] I'll spit my gall in's face that can tax 
 me of any dishonour. Have I lost the pleasure 
 of mine eyes, the sweets of my youth, the 
 wishes of my blood, and the portion of my 
 friends, to be thus dishonoured, to be reputed 
 vile in London, whilst my husband prepares com- 
 mon diseases for me at Ware 1 God, God ! 
 
 Bell. [aside\ Prettily well dissembled. 
 
 Most. As I am true hostess, you are to blame, 
 sir. — What are you, mistress*] I'll know what 
 you are afore you depart, mistress. Dost thou 
 leave thy chamber in an honest inn, to come and 
 inveigle my customer? — An you had sent for 
 me up, and kissed me, and used me like an 
 hostess, 'twould never have grieved me ; but to 
 do it to a stranger ! 
 
 Kate. I'll leave you, sir. 
 
 May. Stay.— [To iJfis^ il/a?/.] Why, how now, 
 sweet gentlewoman ! cannot I come forth to 
 breathe myself, but I must be haunted ? — {^Aside 
 to her'] Rail upon old Bellamont, that he may 
 discover them. — You remember Featherstone, 
 Greenshield ? 
 
 Mist. May. I remember them ! Ay, they are 
 two as cogging, dishonourable, damned, forsworn, 
 beggarly gentlemen as are in all London ; and 
 there's a reverend old gentleman, too, your 
 pander, in my conscience. 
 
 Bell. Lady, I will not, as the old gods were 
 wont, swear by the infernal Styx ; but by all the 
 mingled wine in the cellar beneath, and the 
 smoke of tobacco that hath fumed over the 
 vessels, I did not procure your husband this 
 banquetiug-dish of sucket. Look you, behold 
 the parenthesis. 
 
 [Pidls off Greenshield's false hair and heard. 
 
 Host. Nay, I'll see your face too. 
 
 [Pulls off Kate's masl:. 
 
 Kate. My dear unkind husband, I protest to 
 theelhave played this knavish part only to be witty. 
 
 Green. That I might be presently turned into 
 a matter more solid than horn, — into marble ! 
 
 Bell. Yom: husband, gentlewoman! why, he 
 never was a soldier. 
 
 Kate. Ay, but a lady got him pricked for a 
 captain : I warrant you, he will answer to the 
 name of captain, though he be none ; like a lady 
 that will not think scorn to answer to the name of 
 her first husband, though he were a soap-boiler. 
 
 * mhtress'l Here, aud iu the next line, the old ed. 
 " maisters." 
 
 Green. Hang off, thou devil, away ! 
 Kate \sings\ 
 
 " No, no ; you fled me t'other day ; 
 When I was with child you ran awoy. 
 But since I have caught you now" — 
 
 Green. A pox of your wit and your singing ! 
 Bell. Nay, look you, sir, she must sing, because 
 we'll be merry : 
 
 " What though* you rode not five mile forward , 
 You have found that fatal house at Brainford northward, 
 hone, hono, nanero!" 
 
 Green. God refuse me,+ gentlemen, you may 
 laugh and be merry ; but I am a cuckold, and I 
 think you knew of it. — Who lay i'the segs with 
 you to-night, wild-duck ? 
 
 Kate. Nobody with me, as I shall be saved; 
 but Master Featherstone came to meet me as far 
 as Eoy-ston. 
 
 Green. Featherstone ! 
 
 May. See, the hawk, that first stooped my 
 pheasant, is killed by the spaniel that first sprang 
 all of our side, wife. 
 
 Bell. 'Twas a pretty wit of you, sir, to have 
 had him rode into Puckeridge with a horn before 
 him ; ha, was't not 1 
 
 Green. Good. 
 
 Bell, Or, where a citizen keeps his house, you 
 know, 'tis not as a gentleman keeps his chamber, 
 for debt, but, as you said even now very wisely, 
 lest his horns should uslier him. 
 
 Green. Very good. — Featherstone ! — he comes. 
 
 Enter Featherstone. 
 
 Feath. Luke Greenshield, Master Mayberry, old 
 poet, Moll, and Kate, most happily encountered : 
 ud's life, how came you hither ? By my life, the 
 man looks pale. 
 
 Green. You are a villain, and I'll make't good 
 upon you : I am no servingman to feed upon 
 your reversion. 
 
 Feath. Go to the ordinary, then. 
 
 Bell. This is his ordinary, sir ; and in this she 
 is like a London ordinary, — her best getting comes 
 by the box. 
 
 Green. You are a damned villain. 
 
 Feath. 0, by no means. 
 
 Green. No 1 Ud's life, I'll go instantly take a 
 purse, be apprehended, and hanged for't ; better 
 than be a cuckold. 
 
 Feath. Best first make your confession, sirrah. 
 
 * What though, &c.] See p. 276. 
 t God refuse me] See note §, p. 7. 
 
280 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 Green. 'Tie this ; thou bast uot used me like a 
 geutlemau. 
 
 FtcUh. A gentleman ! thou a gentleman ! thou 
 art a tailor. 
 
 licU. 'Ware peachin- '. 
 
 Feath. No, airrah, if you will confess atight, 
 tell how thou hast wronged thut virtuous gentle- 
 woman: how thou luj'erit at her two year together, 
 to make her dishonest ; how thou wouldst send 
 mo thither with letters ; how duly thou wouldst 
 watch the citizens'-wives' vacation, which is 
 twioe »-d;iy, namely the Exchange-time, twelve at 
 noon, and six at night ; and where she refused 
 thy imiH>rtunity and vowed to tell her husband, 
 thou wouldht fall down upon thy knees, and 
 entreat her for the love of heaven, if not to ease 
 thy violent affection, at least to conceal it, — to 
 which her pity and simple virtue consented; 
 how thou tookest her wedding-ring from her ; 
 met these two gentlemen at Ware ; feigned a 
 quarrel ; and the rest is apparent. This only 
 remains, — wlmt wrong the poor gentlewoman hath 
 since received by our intolerable lie, I aui most 
 heartily sorry fur, and to thy bosom will maintain 
 all I have said to be honest. 
 
 May. Victory, wife ! thou art quit by proclam- 
 ation. 
 
 UtU. Sir, you are an honest man : I have 
 known an arrant thief for peaching made an 
 officer : give me your hand, sir. 
 
 Kate O filthy, abominable husband, did you 
 all thUl 
 
 May. Certainly ho ia no captain ; ho blushes. 
 MUt. May. Sj>cak, sir, did you ever know me 
 aiinwcr your wiiiheH ? 
 
 (irtm. You are lionost ; very virtuously honest. 
 
 Mist. May. I will, then, no lunger bo a loose 
 
 woiuaii : I have at my husband's pleiwure tu'en 
 
 ujKin mo thia habit of jealouHy. I'uj sorry for you : 
 
 virtue glories not in tiio spoil, but in the victory. 
 
 lUU. How say you by tixat good[l]y seiitcnco? 
 
 IxKik you, sir, you gallanU visit citizens' houses, 
 
 ,.. ti.,. 8i<oniard fimt nailed to the Indies: you 
 
 I buying of wares or selling of lands ; but 
 
 1 provn* 'tis uotiiiiig but for «liscov.-ry and 
 
 ■xt of their wives for better niaintennnco. 
 
 *> ' >. look yon, wa« ho aware of those broken 
 
 I *t ru<„ • when you m»l liim nt Waro an<l pos- 
 
 • 1 him of the downfall of his wifo f You are 
 
 l-.hl . you have iHuidered your own wifo U> 
 
 ILU geulloiusn ; boit«jr men have done it, honost 
 
 
 I 'It ttio whole insaa^ 
 
 Tom ; * we have precedents for't. Hie you to 
 London. What is more catholic i'the city than 
 for husbands daily for to forgive the nightly sins 
 of their bedfellows ? If you like not that course, 
 but do t intend to be rid of her, rifle her at a 
 tavem,:J: where you may swallow down some 
 fifty wiseacres, sous and heirs to old tenements 
 and common gardens, like so many raw yolks 
 with muscadine to bedward. 
 
 Kate. filthy knave, dost compaie a woman of 
 my carriage to a horse ] 
 
 Bell. And no disparagement; for a woman to 
 have a high forehead, a quick ear, a full eye, a 
 wide nostril, a sleek skin, a straight back, a 
 round hip, and so forth, is most comely. 
 
 Kate. But is a great belly comely in a horse, 
 sirl 
 
 Bell. No, lady. 
 
 Kate. And what thiuk you of it in a woman, I 
 pray you ? 
 
 Bell. Certainly I am put down at my own 
 weapon : I therefore recant the rifling. No, 
 there is a new trade come up for cast gentle- 
 women, of periwig-making : let your wife set up 
 i'lhe Strand ; and yet I doubt whether she may 
 or no, for they say the women have got it to be 
 a corporation. If you can, you may make good 
 use of it, for you shall have as good a coming-in 
 by hair (though it be but a falling commodity), 
 and by other foolish tiring, as any between Saint 
 Clement's and Chai-ing. 
 
 Feath. Now you have run yourself out of 
 breath, hear mc. I protest the gentlewoman is 
 honest; and since I have wronged her rcjiutation 
 in meetuig her thus privately, I'll maintain her. 
 — Wilt thou hang at my purse, Kate, like a pair 
 of Baibai-y buttons,§ to open when 'tis full, and 
 close when 'tis empty ? 
 
 Kate. I'll bo divorced, by this Christian ele- 
 ment : and because thou thinkest thou art n 
 
 • Tom] Soo note •, p. 278. 
 
 t ttut do ininnl\ Tho old od. " 6u/ to inttniV 
 
 i riA< her at a ttitfnt] Our old writors used r\tt< in tho 
 rii'tiHo of rajtlt: «.■ l'hui>iuau.— " Why, then, thus it shal 
 he, wucio Rtriko up n di-ummo, sot uj> n tout, call jK'oplo 
 Ulfithor, pill crowncs a iksoco, let's i-(rf< for hor." Ttie 
 Hlindt btiiiKT n/ AlejranUria, liOS, Sig. B 3. And Miu- 
 •hou, til his (iuitlf into Oif tongiun, od. 1017, 0X|iltiiii8 
 rirfiiii; to bo " ii kliido of giuiio, whoro ho that iu cn-stiiijf 
 doth tliiMw iiioiit oil tho dlco, t«kc« up nil that Is likid 
 down." Dr. Noil ihurororu U qiilto wn«iiK', whoii in a 
 iioio on hU reprint of DcUkor's (lHlt'» Horn hoiJi; p. lil'i, 
 ho miy* Ihitt "ony rirfiiij;" nioitiis "any chtnting or 
 jAumUring." 
 
 I ttariHirn butUmt] M.w.n-.h buttons, I boliovc, of gold 
 or RlWar fiUgroo-w. i 
 
NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 281 
 
 cuckold, lest I should make thee an infidel in 
 causing thee to believe an untruth, I'll make thee 
 a cuckold. 
 
 Bell. Excellent wench ! 
 
 Feath. Come, let's go, sweet ; the nag I ride 
 upon bears double : we 11 to London. 
 
 May. Do not bite your thumbs, sir. 
 
 Kate. Bite his thumb! [^Sings. 
 
 "I'll make him do a thing worse than this : 
 Come love me whereas I lay." 
 
 Feath. What, Kate] 
 Kate \sings]. 
 
 "He shall father a child is none of his, 
 0, the clean contrary way." 
 
 Feath. lusty Kate ! 
 
 [Sxeunt Feath ERSTONE and Kate. 
 
 May, Methought he said even now you were 
 a tailor. 
 
 Green,. You shall hear more of that hereafter : 
 I'll make Ware and him stink ere he goes : if I 
 be a tailor, the rogue's naked weapon shall not 
 fright me ; I'll beat him and my wife both out 
 o'the town with a tailor's yard. [Exit. 
 
 May. valiant Sir Tristram ! — Room there ! 
 
 Enter Phtlip, Leverpool, and Chartlet. 
 
 Phil. News, father, most strange news out of 
 the Low-Countries : your good lady and mistress, 
 that set you to work upon a dozen of cheese- 
 trenchers, is new lighted at the next inn, and the 
 old venerable gentlewoman's * father with her. 
 
 Bell. Let the gates of our inn be locked up 
 closer than a nobleman's gates at dinnei'-time. 
 
 Omnes. Why, sir, why ] 
 
 Bell. If she enter here, the house will be 
 infected : the jjlague is not half so dangerous as 
 a she-hornet. — Philip, this is your shuffling o'the 
 cards, to turn up her for the bottom card at 
 Ware. 
 
 Phili'p. No, as I'm vii'tuous, sir : ask the two 
 gentlemen. 
 
 Lever. No, in troth, sir. She told us, that, in- 
 quiring at London for you or your son, your man 
 chalked out her way to Ware. 
 
 Bell. I would Ware might choke 'em both. — 
 Master Mayberry, my horse and I will take our 
 leaves of you : I'll to Bedlam again rather than 
 stay her. 
 
 3Iay. Shall a woman make thee fly thy coun- 
 try 1 Stay, stand to hei', though she were greater 
 than Pope Joan. What are thy bi-ains conjui-ing 
 for, my poetical bay-leaf-eater'? 
 
 * gentUxooman's'] The old ei. " GeiMemans." 
 
 Bell. For a sprite o'the buttery, that shall 
 make us all drink with mirth, if I can raise it. 
 Stay, the chicken is not fully hatched. — Wit,* I 
 beseech thee ! so, come ! — Will you be secret, 
 gentlemen, and assisting? 
 
 Oinnes. With brown bills, if you think good. 
 
 Bell. What will you say if by some trick we 
 put this little hornet into Featherstone's bosom, 
 and marry 'em together ? 
 
 Omnes. Fuh ! 'tis impossible. 
 
 Bell. Most possible. I'll to my trencher- 
 woman; let me alone for dealing with her: 
 Feathei'stone, gentlemen, shall be your patient. 
 
 Oinnes. How, how ? 
 
 Bell. Thus. I will close with this country 
 l^edler. Mistress Dorothy, that travels up and 
 down to exchange pins for conyskins, very 
 lovingly; she shall eat of nothing but sweatmeats 
 in my company, good words ; whose taste when 
 she likes, as I know she will, then will I play 
 upon her with this artillery, — that a very proper 
 man and a great heir, naming Featherstone, spied 
 her from a window, when she lighted at her inn, 
 is extremely fallen in love with her, vows to 
 make her his wife, if it stand to her good liking, 
 even in Ware ; but being, as most of your young 
 gentlemen are, somewhat bashful, and ashamed 
 to venture upon a woman, 
 
 May. City and suburbs can justify it : so, sir. 
 
 Bell. He sends me, being an old friend, to 
 undermine for him. I'll so whet the wench's 
 stomach, and make her so hungry, that she shall 
 have an appetite to him, fear it not. Greenshield 
 shall have a hand in it too ; and, to be revenged 
 of his partner, will, I know, strike with any weapon. 
 
 Lever. But is Featherstone of any means ? else 
 you undo him and her. 
 
 May. He has land between Fulham and 
 London : he would have made it over to me. — To 
 your charge, poet : give you the assault upon 
 her; and send but Featherstone to me, I'll hang 
 him by the gills. 
 
 Bell. He's not yet horsed, sure. — Philip, go tliy 
 ways, give fire to him, and send him hither with 
 a jiowder presently. 
 
 Phil. He's blown up already. [Exit. 
 
 Bell. Gentlemen, you'll stick to the device, and 
 look to your plot ? 
 
 Omnes. Most poetically : away to your quarter. 
 
 Bell. I march : I will cast my rider, gallants. 
 I hope you see who shall pay for our voyage. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 * Wiq The old ed. "hit." 
 
282 
 
 NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 May. That must he that comes here. 
 
 Ht-tnter PlllUP an-/ KEATllKKhTOVK. 
 Master Featheretone, U Master Feathcrstone, 
 you may now make your fortunes weigh ten 
 stone of featheni more than ever they did ! leap 
 but into tlic saddle now that stands empty for 
 you, you are maile for ever. 
 
 l,ever. [tuid('\ An tu-ij, I'll bo sworn. 
 Feather. How, for God's sake, how ! 
 Mag. I woul<l you had what I could wish you. 
 I loTe you, and because you shall be sure to 
 know where my lovo dwells, look you, sir, it 
 iuLiig* out at this sign : you shall pray for Ware, 
 when Ware is dead and rotten. Look you, sir, 
 tlicro is as pretty a little pinnace struck sail 
 hereby, and come in lately : she's my kinswoman, 
 my father's youngest sister, a ward ; her portion 
 throe tliousand ; her hopes, if her graunam die 
 witliout issue, better. 
 Peath. Very good, sir. 
 
 May. Iler guardian goes about to marry her 
 to a stont-cutter ; and rather than she'll be 
 subject to such a fellow, she'll die a martyr : will 
 yuu liKve all out f she's run away, is here at an 
 inn i'tho town. What parts soever you have 
 phiyed with mo, I see good parts in you ; and if 
 you now will catch Time's hair that's put into 
 your hand, you shall clap her up presently. 
 Fcath. U she young, and a pretty wench ? 
 Ixrtr. Few citizens' wives are like her. 
 i'ktt. Young! why, I wiu-nmt sixteen hath 
 scarce gone over hor. 
 
 Ftath. '.Sft>ot, where is she? If I like her 
 |>«ntona(,'o as well as I like tliiit which you say 
 b«lougH Ut hiT |>erHonuge, I'll stand thrumming 
 of va\n no longer, but boiu'd your pinnace whilst 
 li« hoL 
 
 May. Away, then, with these gontlemon, with 
 a Frauch gallop, and t<j her! Philip here shall 
 run fur a priest, an<l despatch you. 
 
 Ftalk. Will you, gidlaiitJi, go along I Wo may 
 
 bo utArriod in a chnmla-r fur fo«ir of hue and cry 
 
 ! • r, utfl some of the company shall koijt 
 
 r. 
 
 .l/jy. AMurr your sjmiI nho will bo followed ; 
 
 ••••jp, On-n'forr-. [A'xruNl Fk.itiii'.iistonk, I'liil.ir, 
 
 ' 'lUiiTLKr.) lie's in the Curtiun 
 
 " Ami, horno and man. Ho will 
 
 it««0 •iiiiioboily kiw|> the iloor for him! she'll 
 
 look U> UuU 1 Mil youngur than I was tu.. 
 
 ttl«kU aio for thU phyalo.— How now ! 
 
 
 > r^] R**ry selioDlboy knows 
 
 Enttr Captai.v Jenkish, Allum, Hans Van Belch, 
 and othtri, boottd. 
 
 Capt. Jen. God pleas you ! is there not ah 
 arrant scurvy trab in your company, that is a 
 sentlewoman bom, sir, ^d can tawg Welsh, and 
 Dutch, and any tongue in your head ? 
 
 May. How so ? Drabs in my company I do I 
 look like a drab-driver? 
 
 Capt. Jen. The trab will drive you, if she put 
 you before her, into a pench-hole.* 
 
 Allum. Is not a gentleman here, one Master 
 Belliimont, sir, of your company ? 
 
 May. Yes, yes : come you from London ? he'll 
 be here presently. 
 
 Capt. Jen. Will he ? tawson, this oman hunts 
 at his tail, like your little goats in Wales follow 
 their mother. We have warrants here from 
 master sustice of this shire, to show no pity nor 
 mercy to her : her name is DolL 
 
 May. Why, sir, what has she committed] I 
 think such a creature is i'the town. 
 
 Capt. Jen. What has she committed ! ound.s, 
 she has committed more than manslaughtei-s, for 
 slie has committed herself, God pless us, to 
 everlasting prison. Lug you, sii", she is a punk : 
 she shifts her lovers (as captains and Welsh 
 gentlemen and such) as she does her trenchera ; 
 when she has well fed upon't, and that there is 
 left nothing but pare bones, she calls for a clean 
 one, and scrapes away the fii-st. 
 
 Jie-entcr Bellamont iriV/i Hornet, Doll b<tie<en thfw ; 
 Fkatueh-stone, Greessuield, Kate, Philip, Lkver- 
 
 POOL, and ClIARTLEY. 
 
 May, God's so. Master Feathcrstone, what 
 will you do ? hero's three come from London to 
 fetch away the gentlewoman with a warrant. 
 
 Feather. All tlie warnuits in Europe shall not 
 fetch her now: she's mine sure enough. — What 
 have you to eay to her ? she's my wife. 
 
 Capt. Jen. Ow ! 'sblood, do you come so far to 
 fish, and catch frogs? your wife is a tilt-boat; any 
 num or oman may go in her for money : she's 
 a cony-catchcr. — Whcro is my moveable gooils 
 talletl a coach, and my two wild jieasts .' pogs on 
 you. wjiuld they had trawn you to the gidlows ! 
 
 Allum. 1 must borrow fifty jiound of you, 
 mihtresH brido. 
 
 Ilant. Yaw, vro, and you make mo do ghock, do 
 K»'<'ft fool : you hob mine gelt too; war is it .' 
 
 A A./, j Hv inoiuiK btnch-hole. Sola HlmkcHiHinro'n 
 iii.if ClfoiHttni, net Iv. 8C. 7 ; " We'll l)cnt "em iiilo 
 '■•'«"; wlicru Mnlinio oUcn-M tlmt brt<rh/ii>U 
 • ■!> .111 "till) IikIu III Ik LoiiiU ttd ttniitdum nliuii,." 
 
NORTHWARD HO. 
 
 283 
 
 Doll. Out, you base scums ! come you to 
 disgrace me in my wedding-shoes ? 
 
 Feath. Is this your three-thousand-pound ward ? 
 ye told me, sir, she was your kinswoman. 
 
 May. Right, one of mine aunts.* 
 
 Bell. Who pays for the northern voyage now, 
 lads? 
 
 Green, Why do you not ride before my wife to 
 London now ] The woodcock's i'the springe. 
 
 Kate. 0, forgive me, dear husband ! I will 
 never love a man that is worse than hanged, as 
 he is. 
 
 May. Now a man may have a course in your 
 park ] 
 
 Feath. He may, sir. 
 
 Boll. Never, I protest : I will be as true 
 to thee as Ware and Wade's-Mill are one to 
 another. 
 
 * aunts] See note *, p. 254. 
 
 Feath. Well, it's but my fate. Gentlemen, 
 this is my opinion, it's better to shoot in a bow 
 that has been shot in before, and will never 
 start, than to draw a fair new one, that for every 
 arrow will be warpiug. — Come, wench, we are 
 joined, and all the dogs in France shall not part 
 us. — I have some lands : those I'll turn into 
 money, to pay you, and you, and any. — I'll pay 
 all that I can for thee, for I'm sure thou hast 
 paid me. 
 
 Omnes. God give you joy ! 
 
 May. Come, let's be merry. — [To Greenshield.] 
 Lie you with jour own wife, to be sure she 
 shall not walk in her sleep. — A noise of musi- 
 cians,* chamberlain ! — 
 
 This night let's banquet freely : come, we'll dare 
 Our wives to combat i'the great bed in Ware. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 * A noise of musicians] See note §, p. 22'2. 
 
A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
A Cart for a CmcIiA.I. A plmtant ConuJi/, At it hath h'.m sn'eral timet Acted irith great Applause, irriltm by John 
 Wtb^er and William Ruirlty. I'lacert Ciijiio. Lntuloii, Printed b<j Tho. Johnson, and are to Ite sold hi/ Francis Kirhnan. 
 at Au S/>op at the ^(pi o/Juhn Fletchers Head, ovtr against tlie Angel-Inne, on the Back-side of St. Clements, vilhout 
 Trmple-ISar. 1061. 4to. 
 
 Wo h»vo no other nuthority than that of Kirkman for attributing this play to Webster and Rowley : I believe, 
 however, that it is riKhtly assitrned. A grciit |>ortiou <>f it, which the authors meant for blank verse, Kirkman has 
 priuUxl as prose : in some pasHagcs the iutct'iity of tho text is very questionable. 
 
 WiIllAin Rowley, Wolwtor'B coadjutor in this drama, flourished in the roigii of James the First. Mercs 
 mentiuna among tho best writers of comedy, ** Maister Rowley, once a rare Scholler of learned Pembrooke Ilall in 
 GiniurldK'e." (Palladit Tama, Wits Treamr>j, Being the &xo7ul Part of Wits Commontceallh, 1598, fol. l.'SJ.) : but ho 
 douhtlcw alludes to nnotliur draniatmt of the same name, Samuel Rowley. It appears that William was an actor, 
 aa well aa un author, and he in said to have been more excellent in comedy than in tragedy. " There w;is one 
 Will. Rowley waa Head of the Princes Company of Commedians in lCil3 to 1010. See the Oflice Books of the 
 lA. ^Stauho|)e, Treiunirur of the Chamber in those years, in Dr. Rich. Rawlin-son's Possession." MS. note by Oldys 
 ou I^ni^baiuo's Aec. of Kng Dram. Pottf, in the Brit. Museum. "William Rowley, tho aiithor-actor, was married 
 to laabel Tooloy at Cnpplcgato Church, in 1C37."— Collier's .1/onoirs of the lyincipal Actors in the Plays of S/teU-e- 
 ipeart, p. ZiS. 
 
 Of hU playa there remain four of which ho was tho sole author, — (the best of them, A netc Wonder, a Woman 
 nerrr Kxf, waa revived withaltcnitlonsat CovontOai-den Theatre, in 1824,) — and twelve which he composed in con- 
 Juncttun witJi other wriUra, Day, Wilkinn, MIddleton, Fletcher, Miissinger, Fori, Hcywood, Dekkor, and Webster. 
 ill* name la aaaociatod with ShakiK|icaro"8 on tho title-page of The Birth of Merlin: but ccrUiiuly the b:vrd of 
 Avon at lonat luul uo luind in that wretched drama. 
 
THE STATIONER TO THE JUDICIOUS READER. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 It -was not long since I ■n^as only a bookreader, and not a bookseller, which quality (my former 
 employment somewhat failing, and I being unwilling to be idle,) I have now lately taken on me. It 
 hath been my fancy and delight, e'er since I knew any thing, to converse with books ; and the pleasure 
 I have taken in those of this nature, riz. plays, hath been so extraordinary, that it hath been much 
 to my cost ; for I have been, as we term it, a gatherer of plays for some yeai's, and I am confident I have 
 more of several sorts than any man in England, bookseller or other : I can at any time show seven 
 hundred in number, which is within a small matter all that were ever printed. Many of these I have 
 several times over, and intend, as I sell, to purchase more ; all, or any of which, I shall be ready either 
 to sell or lend to you upon reasonable considerations. 
 
 In order to the encreasing of my store, I have now this term printed and published three, viz. this 
 called A Cure for a CucTcold, and another called The Thracian Wonder, and the third called Gammer 
 Gurton's Needle. Two of these three were never printed ; the third, viz.. Gammer GurtorCs Needle, 
 hath been formerly printed, but it is almost an hundred years since. As for this play, I need not speak 
 any thing in its commendation ; the authors' names, Webster and Rowley, are (to knowing men) 
 sufficient to declare its worth : several persons remember the acting of it, and say that it then pleased 
 generally weU ; and let me tell you, in my judgment it is an excellent old play. The expedient of curing 
 a cuckold, after the manner set down in this play, hath been tried to my knowledge, and therefore I 
 may say probahan est. I should. I doubt, be too tedious, or else I would say somewhat in defence of 
 this, and in commendation of plays in general ; but I question not but you have read what abler pens 
 than mine have writ in their vindication. Gentlemen, I hope you will so encourage me in my beginnings, 
 that I may be induced to proceed to do you service, and that I may frequently have occasion, in this 
 nature, to subscribe myself 
 
 Tour servant, 
 
 FRANCIS KIRKMAN. 
 
DRAMATIS PERSON.E. 
 
 WooDROFF, a justice of the peace, father to Annabel. 
 
 Franckford, a merchant, brother-in-law to Woodrofi. 
 
 l.wsisouAM, a Kcntlewan, in lovo with Clare. 
 
 UoNviLK, a j,'enUcman, the bridetToom and husband to Annabel. 
 
 Raymond, "i 
 
 EusTACK, I gaiiantg invited to the wedding. 
 
 LlOSKL, 
 GUOVKK. J 
 
 UociiFiEiJ), a young gentleman and a thief.' 
 CoMrA8.s, a seaman. 
 PirrriFoo. ) two attorneys. 
 
 IJUDUK, J 
 
 A Cotmsellor. 
 Two Clients. 
 Two lidyg. 
 A S;iilor. 
 
 Luce, wife to Franckfurd, and sister to WoodrofT 
 
 ANMAurL, the bride and wife t<i Ronvilo. 
 
 Claiie, LoHslughani's nilHtross. 
 
 Uhhr, wife to CoQipaas. 
 
 Numo. 
 
 A Waitingwomau. 
 
 • a young j/rti/ln/inn timl a tkitf] I must obeorvo, tliot it is Kiiknian who so charactcrisea Rochfiold. I i,'ive 
 the Urmm. Tor. from the old ud. 
 
A CUEE FOE A CUCKOLD. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE I.* 
 
 Enter Lessingham and Clabe. 
 Less. This is a place of feasting and of joy, 
 And, as in triumphs and ovations, here 
 Nothing save state and pleasure. 
 Clare. 'TLs confess'd. 
 
 Less. A day of mirth and solemn jubilee, 
 
 Clare. For such as can be merry. 
 Less. A happy nuptial, 
 Since a like pair of fortunes suitable. 
 Equality in birth, parity in years, 
 And in affection no way different, 
 Are this day sweetly coupled. 
 Clare. 'Tis a marriage. 
 Less. True, lady, and a noble precedent 
 Methinks for us to follow. 'N\Tiy should these 
 Outstrip us in our loves, that have not yet 
 Outgone us in our time ? If we thus lose 
 Our best and not-to-be recover'd hours 
 Unprofitably spent, we shall be held 
 Mere truants in love's school. 
 
 Clare. That's a stud.y 
 In which I never shall ambition have 
 To become graduate. 
 
 Less. Lady, you are sad : 
 This jovial meeting puts me in a spirit 
 To be made such. We two are guests invited. 
 And meet by purpose, not by accident : 
 Where's, then, a place more opportunely fit. 
 In which we may solicit our own loves. 
 Than before this example ? 
 
 Clare. In a word, 
 I purpose not to marry. 
 Less. By your favour ; 
 For as I ever to this present hour 
 Have studied your observance, so from henceforth 
 
 * Scene /.] The garden belonging to ■Woodrofl's house. 
 
 I now will study plainness : — I have lov'd you 
 Beyond myself, misspended for your sake 
 Many a fail- hour which might have been employ 'd 
 To pleasure or to profit ; have neglected 
 Duty to them from whom my being came. 
 My parents, but my hopeful studies most : 
 I have stol'n time from all my choice delights 
 And robb'd myself, thinking to enrich you : 
 Matches I have had offer'd, some have told me 
 As fair, as rich, — I never thought 'em so : 
 And lost aU these in hope to find out you. 
 Resolve me, then, for Christian charity ; 
 Think you an answer of that frozen nature 
 Is a sufficient satisfaction for 
 So many more than needful sei-vices ?- 
 
 Clare. I have said, sir. 
 
 Less. Whence might this distaste arise ? 
 Be at least so kind to perfect me in that. 
 Is it of some dislike lately conceiv'd 
 Of this my person, which perhaps may grow 
 From calumny and scandal ] if not that, 
 Some late-received melancholy in you ? 
 K neither, your perverse and peevish will, — 
 To which I most imply it ? 
 
 Clare. Be it what it can or may be, thus it is ; 
 And with this answer pray rest satisfied. 
 In all these travels, windings, and indents. 
 Paths, and by-paths, which many have sought out. 
 There's but one only road, and that alone, 
 To my fruition : which whoso finds out, 
 'Tis like he may enjoy me ; but that failing, 
 I ever am mine own. 
 
 Less. 0, name it, sweet ! 
 I am already in a labyrinth, 
 Until you guide me out. 
 
 Clare. I'll to my chamber. 
 May you be pleas'd unto your mis-spent time 
 
290 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 To add but some few minates, by my iiuiid 
 You shall hear further from me. 
 
 Leaa. I'll attend you. [E.iil Clahe. 
 
 What more can I desire tlian be resolv'd 
 Of such a long suKiKJiise ? lIl■rc''^4 now the jierioil 
 Of much expectation. 
 
 Bnter lUvMosn, Euutace, Lionbl, and Grover. 
 
 Ray. What, you alone rctir'd to privacy 
 Of sucii a goodly confluence, all prepar'd 
 To grace the prciient nui)tial8! 
 
 Leu. I have hear<l Hume Bay, 
 Men arc ne'er less alone than when alone. 
 Such power hath meditation. 
 
 Etut. O these choice beauties 
 That are this day assembled ! but of all 
 Fair Mistress Clare, the bride excepted still, 
 She bears away the prize. 
 
 Lion. And worthily ; 
 For, setting off her present melancholy, 
 She is without taxation.* 
 
 Grov. I conceive 
 The cause of her so sudden discontent. 
 
 Ray. 'Tis far out of my way. 
 
 liruv. Ill speak it, then. 
 In all estates, jirofossions, or degrees. 
 In arts or sciences, there is a kind 
 Of emulation ; likewise so in this. 
 There's a maid this day married, a choice beauty: 
 Now, Miitross Clare, a virgin of like age 
 And fortunes corrcspondont, apprehending 
 Time lost in her that's in another gaiu'd. 
 May upon thin— for who knows women's 
 
 thoughts f— 
 Grow into this deep sadness. 
 
 ll<ty. Like enough. 
 
 Lfu. Yiiu uro pleasant, gentlemen, or else 
 |>erhupH, 
 Tli<>uj.'li I know many liavo purnu'd her love 
 
 (iiov. And you amoiig«t the re«t, with pardon, 
 sir; 
 Vet ahu might cast lonio more peculiar eye 
 On •ome that not ru»|>octs her. 
 
 LtM. Tlwt'a my fear, 
 Which you now make your sport. 
 
 AVi/cr WnJUiiifWuiiiuti. 
 H'utl. A leltar, air. 
 J^tt. Ytxnn wiioiii I 
 
 "'•"' " -'•• [Oiret Utter. 
 
 '"** '■*• kept hor promJHo; 
 ^'""*"' I. liulhosamo 
 
 Know my,., l.i.lml. 
 
 • -MAirW taMiiM) I. «. lrro|*«w|»u«. 
 
 Wait. Fare you well, sir. [Exit 
 
 Lets, [reads] " Prove all thy friends, find otU the 
 best and nearest ; 
 Kill for my sake that friend that loves thee dearest." 
 Her servant, nay, her hand and character, 
 All meeting in my ruin ! — Read again. 
 " Prove all thy friends, find out the Itat and 
 
 nearest ; 
 Kilt for my sake that friend that loves thee dearest." 
 And what might that one be ? 'tis a strange 
 
 difficulty, 
 And it will ask much counsel [Exit. 
 
 Ray. Lessiugham 
 Hath left us on the sudden. 
 
 East. Sure, the occasion 
 Was of that letter sent him. 
 
 Lion. It may be 
 It was some challenge. 
 
 Grov. Challenge ! never dream it : 
 Are such things sent by women? 
 
 Ray. 'Twere an heresy 
 To conceive but such a thought. 
 
 Lion. Tusli, all .the difference 
 Begot this day must be at night decided 
 Betwixt the bride and bridegroom. — Here both 
 conic. 
 
 £iUer WoODROKK, Annabel, Bonvile, Frasckfori*, 
 Luck, and Nurso. 
 
 Wood. What did you call the gentleman we met 
 But now in some distraction ] 
 
 Jhn. Lessiugham ; 
 A most approv'd and noble friend of mine. 
 And one of our prime guests. 
 
 iroo(/. He seem'd to me 
 Somewlmt in mind distemjier'd. What concern 
 Those private humoui-s our so public mirth, 
 In such a time of revels? Mistress Clare, 
 I miss her too : why, gallants, have you sull'er'd 
 
 her 
 Thus to be lost amongst you f 
 
 Anna. Dinner done. 
 Unknown to any, she rotir'd hei-self. 
 
 WoOil. Sick of the maid perhajig, because she 
 sees 
 You, miMtress bride, her school and playfellow, 
 So Muddiiily tiu-n'd wife. 
 
 Fianck. "i'was shrewdly guoss'd. 
 
 Wood. Go find her out. — Fie, gentlenu>n, within 
 The nuiHie plays unto the silent walls. 
 And no man there to gmco it : when I was young, 
 At such a meeting I have so bostirr'tl mo 
 Till I have nnulo the i)alo greensickness girls 
 Bliuh like the ruby, and drop poiuls apaco 
 
SCEXE II. 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 291 
 
 Down from their ivory foreheads; in those days 
 I have cut capers thus high. Nay, in, gentlemen, 
 And single out the ladies. 
 
 Ray. Well advis'd. — 
 Nay, mistress bride, you shall along with us, 
 For with.out you all's nothing. 
 
 Anna. Willingly, 
 With master bridegroom's leave. 
 
 Bon. my best joy. 
 This day I am your servant. 
 
 Wood. True, this day ; 
 She his, her whole life after, — so it should be ; 
 Only this day a groom to do her service, 
 For which, the full remainder of his age. 
 He may write master. I have done it yet, 
 And so, I hope, still shall do. — Sister Luce, 
 May I presume my bi'other Franckford can 
 Say as much and truly ] 
 
 Luce. Sir, he may ; 
 I freely give him leave. 
 
 Wood. Observe that, brother ; 
 She freely gives you leave : but who gives leave. 
 The master or the servant ? 
 
 Franck, You are pleasant, 
 And it becomes you well, but this day most. 
 That having but one daughter, have bestow'd her 
 To your great hope and comfort. 
 
 Wood. I have one : 
 Would you could say so, sister! but yom* 
 
 barrenness 
 Hath given your husband freedom, if he please, 
 To seek his pastime elsewhere. 
 
 Luce. Well, well, brother. 
 Though you may taunt me, that have never yet 
 Been bless'd with issue, spare my husband, pray. 
 For he may have a by-blow or an heir 
 That you never heard of. 
 
 Franck. 0, fie, wife ! make not 
 My fault too public. 
 
 Luce. Yet himself keep within compass. 
 
 Franck. If you love me, sweet, 
 
 Luce. Nay, I have done. 
 
 Wood. But if 
 He have not, wench, I would he had the hurt 
 I wish you both. Prithee, thine ear a little. 
 
 Nurse. \to Fraxckfoe'd] Your boy grows up, 
 and 'tis a chopping lad, 
 A man even in the cradle. 
 
 Franck. Softly, nurse. 
 
 Nurse. One of the forward'st infants ! how it 
 will crow, 
 And chirrup like a sparrow ! I fear shortly 
 It will breed teeth : you must provide him 
 therefore 
 
 A coral with a whistle and a chain. 
 
 Franck. He shall have any-thing. 
 
 Nurse. He's now quite out of blankets. 
 
 Franck. There's a piece ; {^Gives money. 
 
 Provide him what he wants : only, good nui-se, 
 Prithee, at this time be silent. 
 
 Nurse. A charm to bind 
 Any nurse's tongue that's living. 
 
 Wood. Come, we are miss'd 
 Among the younger fry : gravity ofttimes 
 Becomes the spoi-ts of youth, especially 
 At such solemnities ; and it were sin 
 Not in our age to show what we have bin. 
 
 [ExeuiU. 
 
 SCENE II.* 
 Snter Lessixguam, sad, with a letter in his hand. 
 Less. Amicitid nihil dedit Natura majus nee 
 
 rarius : 
 So saith my author.f If, then, powerful Nature, 
 In all her bounties shower'd upon mankind. 
 Found none more rare and jirecious than this one 
 We call Friendship, 0, to what a monster 
 Would this trans-shape me, — to be made that he 
 To violate such goodness ! To kill any, 
 Had been a sad injunction; but a friend ! 
 Nay, of all friends the most appro Vd ! a task 
 Hell, till this day, could never parallel. 
 And yet this woman has a power of me 
 Beyond all virtue, — virtue ! almost grace. 
 What might her hidden purpose be in this. 
 Unless she apprehend some fantasy. 
 That no such thing has being, and as kindred. 
 And claims to crowns, are worn out of the world, 
 So the name friend ] 't may be 'twas her conceit. 
 I have tried those that have professed much 
 For coin, nay, sometimes, slighter courtesies, 
 Yet found 'em cold enough : so, perhaps, .she; 
 \\Tiich makes her thus opinion'd. If in the 
 
 former. 
 And therefore better days, 'twas held so rare. 
 Who knows but in these last and worser times 
 It may be now with Justice banish'd th' earth] 
 I'm full of thoughts, and this my troubled breast 
 Distemper'd with a thousand fantasies. 
 Something I must resolve. I'll first make proof 
 If such a thing there be ; which having found, 
 'Twixt love and friendship 'twill be a brave fight, 
 To prove in man which claims the greatest right. 
 
 * Scene //.] A room in the same house, 
 t So saith my auttior^ A passage somewhat resembling 
 this occurs iu Cicero. 
 
292 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 FnUr Raymovd, Eustacb, Lionel, and Groter. 
 
 Jiay. Whut, blaster LeH.siugham ! 
 You that were wont to bo coiupos'd uf mirtli. 
 All spirit and fire, alacrity itself, 
 Like the luiitrc «f a lato -hriglit-Khiniug ftuu, 
 Now wrajit ill clpiid.s aud durkues.s ! 
 
 Lion. Pritliee, be merry ; 
 Thy dulness sadt the lialf part of the house, 
 And dca<U tliat spirit which thou waist wont tu 
 
 ijuicken, 
 And, half-apeut, to give life to. 
 
 L<**. (JeDtlemeD, 
 Such as have cauxe for spoi't, I shall wish ever 
 To make of it the preseut benefit. 
 While it exists; content is still short-breath'd : 
 When it was mine, I did so ; if now yours, 
 I pray make your best use on't. 
 
 Lion. Riddles and paradoxes : 
 Come, come, some crotchet's come into thy pate, 
 And I will know the aiu.se on't. 
 
 Orov. So will I, 
 Or, I protest, ne'er leave thee. 
 
 Lest. 'Tis a business* 
 Proper to myself, one that concerns 
 No second person. 
 
 Gfov. How's that ! not a friend 1 
 
 Lest. Why, is there any such 1 
 
 Orov. Do you question that ] what do you take 
 mo for f 
 
 Eutl. Ay, sir, or mo ? 'Tis many months ago 
 Since we l>etwixt us interchang'd that name. 
 And. of my jmrt, ne'er broken. 
 
 /.ion. Troth, nor luiiio. 
 
 JUtj/. If you make cjuention of a friend, I pray 
 NumlMrr not me the last in your account, 
 That would l>o crown'd in your opinion first. 
 
 Less. You nil H|)fak nobly ; but amongst you all 
 Con auch a one be found ) 
 
 Jlay. Not one ainoupit us 
 Hut would bo proud to wear the chanieter 
 Of noblu friondiihip : in tho name of which, 
 And of all ua h««ro pruaeut, I untreat, 
 KxpoM lo US tito Krief that troubles you. 
 
 /xM I nUnll, and briofly. If over Kentlomun 
 KtiiiW bi-ncatli *c4indul, or hi« reputation, 
 • ' r'd, HufTor'd, niid 
 lioiii I may call a friend, 
 in daiigor. 
 
 :ii 't, 
 
 ' >»iili iiiy \i(v'» dmr haxard. 
 ' I pray, .Ir, 
 lie Lu u« o|K>u bfMutml 
 
 Leu. Then 'tis thus. 
 There is to be perform'd a monomachy, 
 Combat, or duel, — time, place, and weapon. 
 Agreed betwixt us. Had it touch'd myself 
 And myself only, I had then been happy ; 
 Hut I by composition am cugag'd 
 To bring with me my second, and he too, 
 Not as the law of combat is, to stand 
 Aloof and see fair play, bring ofiF his friend. 
 But to engage his person : both must fight. 
 And either of them dangerous. 
 
 £iMt. Of all things 
 I do not like this fighting. 
 
 Less. Now, gentlemen, 
 Of this so great a courtesy I am 
 At this instant merely * destitute. 
 
 Jiay. The time ? 
 
 Less. By eight o'clock to-morrow. 
 
 May, How unhappily 
 Things may fall out ! I am just at that hour. 
 Upon some latc-conceiv6d disconteuti, 
 To atone t nic to my father; otherwise 
 Of all the rest you had commanded me 
 Your second and your servant. 
 
 Lion. Pray, the place] 
 
 Less. Calais-sands.^ 
 
 Lio7i. It once was fatal to a friend of mine 
 And a near kinsman ; for which I vow'd then. 
 And deeply too, never to see that ground : 
 But if it had been elsewhere, one of them 
 Had before uiue§ been worms'-meat. 
 
 Gt'ov. What's the weapon ? 
 
 Less. Single-sword. 
 
 Grov. Of all that you could name, 
 A tiling I never practis'd : had it been 
 Rapier, or that and ])ouiai'd, where men use 
 Rather sleight than force, I had been then your 
 
 man. 
 Being young, I strain'd the sinews of my aim ; 
 Since then to me 'twas never serviceable. 
 
 Jiust. In trotii, sir, had it been a money-matter, 
 I could have stood your friend ; but as for fighting, 
 I wa.1 ever out at that. 
 
 Lrit. Well, fiu'ewell, gentlemen. 
 
 [KxfUlll lUVMONn, Kl'NT.VCIC, LlOSKl, ntlcfUllOVKIU 
 
 But wiiero's tho friend in all this! Tush, she's 
 wine, 
 
 - n,rr,t.,\ 1 o illlnly. 
 
 I fl/aiu| I. o, nviiliillo. 
 
 J Ckiluf Miiilt] Am (liioUiiii^ wim puiilalmblo l>.v tlio 
 KiikUnIi law. It wim iiiHUmmry fm- k''>11:iiiU. who liiul 
 uITaI™ of honour t4> Huitlo, to boUko tbciiuolvoa to Ciiliiia- 
 •amlii. 
 
 I nii%t\ Tlio olil od. " mint." 
 
SCENE II. 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 293 
 
 And knows there's no such thing beneath the 
 
 moon : 
 I now applaud hex- judgment. 
 
 Enter Bomvile. 
 
 Bon. Why, how now, friend ! This discontent, 
 which now 
 Is so unseason'd, makes me question what 
 I ne'er durst doubt before, your love to me : 
 Doth it proceed from envy of my bliss. 
 Which this day crowns me with? or have you 
 
 been 
 A secret rival in my happiness. 
 And grieve to see me owner of those joys 
 Which you could wish your own ? 
 
 Less. Banish such thoughts, 
 Or you shall wrong the truest faithful friendship 
 Man e'er could boast of. 0, mine honour, sir ! 
 'Tis that which makes me wear this brow of 
 
 sorrow : 
 Were that free from the power of calumny, — 
 But pardon me, that being now a-dying. 
 Which is so near to man, if part we cannot 
 With pleasant looks. 
 
 Bon. Do but speak the burden. 
 And I protest to take it off from you, 
 And lay it on myself. 
 
 Less. 'Twere a request, 
 Impudence without blushing could not ask, 
 It bears with it such injury. 
 
 Bon. Yet must I kuow't. 
 
 Less. Receive it, then : — but I entreat you, sir, 
 Not to imagine that I apprehend 
 A thought to further my intent by you ; 
 From you 'tis least suspected : — 'twas my fortune 
 To entertain a quarrel with a gentleman. 
 The field betwixt us challeug'd, place and time. 
 And these to be perfoi'm'd not without seconds : 
 I have relied on many seeming friends, 
 But cannot bless my memory with one 
 Dares venture in my quarrel. 
 
 Bon. Is this all ? 
 
 Less. It is enough to make all temperature 
 Convert to fury. Sir, my reputation, 
 The life and soul of honour, is at stake, 
 In danger to be lost ; the word of coward 
 Still printed in the name of Lessingham. 
 
 Bon. Not while there is a Bonvile. May I live 
 poor, 
 And die despis'd, not having one sad friend 
 To wait upon my hearse, if I survive 
 The ruin of that honour ! Sir, the time 1 
 
 Less. Above all spare me [that], for that once 
 known. 
 
 You'll cancel this your promise, and unsay 
 Your friendly proffer ; neither can I blame you : 
 Had you confirm'd it with a thousand oaths, 
 The heavens would look with mercy, not with 
 
 justice, 
 On your offence, should you infringe 'em all. 
 Soon after sun-rise, upon Calais-sands, 
 To-mon-ow we shoidd meet : now to defer 
 Time one half-hour, I should but forfeit all. 
 But, sir, of all men living, this, alas, 
 Concerns you least ; for shall I be the man 
 To rob you of this night's felicity. 
 And make your bride a widow, her soft bed 
 No witness of those joys this night expects? 
 
 Bon. I still prefer my friend before my pleasure, 
 Which is not lost for ever, but adjourn'd 
 For more mature employment. 
 
 Less. Will you go, then ? 
 
 Bon. I am resolv'd I will. 
 
 Less. And instantly ? 
 
 Bon. With all the speed celerity can make. 
 
 Less. You do not weigh those inconveniences 
 This action meets with : your departure hence 
 Will breed a strange distraction in your friends, 
 Distrust of love in your fair virtuous bride, 
 Whose eyes perhaps may never more be bless'd 
 With your dear sight, since you may meet a grave, 
 And that not 'mongst your noble ancestors. 
 But amongst strangers, almost enemies. 
 
 Bon. This were enough to shake a weak resolVe ; 
 It moves not me. Take horse as secretly 
 As you well may: my groom shall make mine ready 
 With all speed possible, unknown to any. 
 
 Less. But, sir, the bride. 
 
 Enter Annabel. 
 
 Anna. Did you not see the key that's to unlock 
 My carcanet * and bracelets ? now, in troth, 
 I am afraid 'tis lost. 
 
 Bon. No, sweet, I ha't ; 
 I found it lie at random in your chamber. 
 And knowing you would miss it, laid it by : 
 'Tis safe, I warrant you. 
 
 Anna. Then my fear's past : 
 But till you give it back, my neck and arms 
 Are still your prisoners. 
 
 Bon. But you shall find 
 They have a gentle gaoler. 
 
 Anna. So I hope. 
 Within you're much inquir'd of. 
 
 Bon. Sweet, I follow. [Exit Annabel.] Dover 
 
 Less. Yes, that's the place. 
 
 carcanef^ i. e. necklace. 
 
294 A CURE FOR 
 
 A CUCKOLD. ACT II. 
 
 Bon, If you be there before me, hire a bark : 
 
 But I must make the womb where 'twas con- 
 
 I 8hall not fail to meet you. [Exit. 
 
 ceiv'd 
 
 Leu. Wa« ever known 
 
 The tomb to bury it, and the first hour it lives 
 
 A man bo miserably blciwM at I ? 
 
 The last it must breathe. Yet there is a fate 
 
 I have no sooner foimil the greatest gooil 
 
 That sways and governs above woman's hate. 
 
 Man in this pilgrimaro of life can meet, 
 
 1 
 i 
 
 [EjtU. 
 
 1 
 
 
 ACT n. 
 
 SCENE !• 
 
 Enter ROOHKIELD. 
 
 Roch. A younger brother ! 'tis a poor calling ; 
 Though not unlawful, very hard to live on : 
 The elder fool inherits all the lands, 
 And we that follow, legsicies of wit. 
 And get 'em when we can too. Why should law, 
 If we be lawful and legitimate, 
 Leave ua without an equal diviJent? 
 Or why compels it not our fathers else 
 To cease from getting, when they want to give ? 
 No, sure, our mothers will ne'er agree to that ; 
 Th^-y love to groan, although the gallows echo 
 And groan together for us : from the first 
 We travel forth, t'other's our journey's end. 
 I must forward. To beg is out of my way, 
 And borrowing is out of date. The old road, 
 The old highway, 't must be, and I am in't : 
 The place will servo for a young beginner. 
 Fur this is the first day I set ope shop. 
 Hucc<iiH, tiien, sweet Laverna ! I have heard 
 That thieves adore thee for a deity : 
 I would not purcliaso by thee but to eat ; 
 And 'tis too churlisii to tlony mo meat. — 
 Soft ! Ijere may be a booty. 
 
 Knirr AitNAliri. and n Scrvnnt. 
 Anna. Ilom'tl, suys't thou 1 
 Utrv. Yen, mislrcHs, with Loaaingham. 
 Attua. Alack, I know not what to doubt or fear ! 
 I know not well whether't Ijo well or ill ; 
 But, uun, it is no custom for the groom 
 To Imvo his bride upon the nuptial day. 
 I am so young and igiiornnt a m-holar- 
 Y««, and It proves so ; I Uilk away perhaps 
 "J' '•" yot rocivor'd. IVitheo, run : 
 
 ' ' '""y advantage thoo to meet 'etn, 
 
 «». lU l.uy. which in not two milos bofore, 
 May trtiublo 'oni until iJiou o<»n»'iil in ken ; 
 Aim! U thou dost, prithoo, oahn* thy Yoioo 
 • •--'MA bWtiwajr. nmr WoodrufTii luxwo. 
 
 To overtake thine eyes, cry out, and crave 
 
 For mc but one word 'fore his departure ; 
 
 I will not staj' him, say, beyond his pleasure, 
 
 Nor rudely ask the cause, if he be willing 
 
 To keep it from me. Charge him by all the love — 
 
 But I stay thee too long : run, run. 
 
 Serv. If I had wings, I would spread 'em now,* 
 mistress. [EjtU. 
 
 Amia. I'll make the best speed after that I can; 
 Yet I 'm not well acquainted with the path : 
 My fears, I fear me, will misguide me too. [Exit. 
 
 Ruch. There's good movables, 
 I perceive, whate'er the ready coin be : 
 Whoever owns her, she's mine now ; the next 
 
 ground 
 Has a most pregnant hollow for the purpose. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 SCENE Il.t 
 
 £\i<fr Servant, iWio runs over, and exit : thfn enter Asnabkl ; 
 after her, RocHFlBLD. 
 
 Anna. I'm at a doubt already whei-e I am. 
 
 Roch. I'll help you, mistress : well overtjiken. 
 
 Anna. Defend me, goodness ! — What luo you? 
 
 Roch. A man. 
 
 Anna. An honest man, I hope. 
 
 Roch. In some degrees hot, not altogether cold, 
 So fiu* as milk poison, yet diuigcrous. 
 As I may be dross'd : I am an honest thief. 
 
 Anna. Honest and thief hold small affinity ; 
 I never heard they were akin before : 
 Pniy heaven I find it now I 
 
 Rock. I toll you my name. 
 
 A nna. Then, honcMtthief, since yo>i have tAiight 
 mo BO, 
 For I'll iutpiiro no other, use me honenMy. 
 
 Roch. Thus, then, I'll use you. First, thon,:J 
 to |irove mo honest, 
 
 • I tK'uUI tprrad'rmnnw] Qy. " / now •tom/W 4>rM<( '< 
 
 I tttrne II. \ Aliotlior [xiri oftlio winio. 
 
 J llirn\ Uoi>oiil««l, It wmiM nociii, liy mlstako. 
 
SCENE II. 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 295 
 
 I will not violate your chastity 
 (That's no part yet of my profession), 
 Be you wife or virgin. 
 
 Anna. I am both, sir. 
 
 Eoch. This, then, it seems should be your 
 wedding-day. 
 And these the hours of interim to keep you 
 In that double state : come, then, I'll be bi-ief. 
 For I'll not hinder your desired hymen. 
 You have about you some superfluous toys. 
 Which my lank hungry pockets would contain * 
 With much more profit and more privacy ; 
 You have an idle chain which keeps your neck 
 A prisoner ; a manacle, I take it. 
 About your wrist too. If these prove emblems 
 Of the combined hemp to halter mine, 
 The Fates take their pleasure ! these are set 
 
 down 
 To be your ransom, and there the thief is prov'd. 
 
 Arm.a. I will confess both, and the last forget. 
 You shall be only honest in this deed ; 
 Pray you, take it ; I entreat you to it, 
 And then you steal 'em not. 
 
 Roch. You may deliver 'em. 
 
 Anna. Indeed, I cannot. If you observe, sir. 
 They are both lock'd about me, and the key 
 I have not : happily + you are furnish'd 
 With some instrument that may unloose 'em. 
 
 Eoch. No, in troth, lady ; I am but a freshman ; 
 I never read further than this book you see, 
 And this very day is my beginning too : 
 These picking-laws I am to study yet. 
 
 Anna. O, do not show me that, sir, 'tis too 
 frightful ! 
 Good, hurt me not, for I do yield 'em freely : 
 Use but your hands ; perhaps their strength will 
 
 serve 
 To tear 'em from me without much detriment : 
 Somewhat I will endure. 
 
 Eoch. Well, sweet lady. 
 You're the best patient for a young physician, 
 That I think e'er was practis'd on. I'll use you 
 As gently as I can, as I'm an honest thief. 
 No ? will't not do ? Do I hurt you, lady ] 
 
 Anna. Not much, sir. 
 
 Roch. I'd be loth at all. I cannot do't. 
 
 Anna. Nay,then, you shall not, sir. You a thief, 
 
 [She draws his sioord. 
 
 And guard yourself no better? no further read ] 
 
 Yet out in your own book ? a bad clerk, are you 
 
 not ? 
 
 * contaiTil The old ed. "contrive." 
 t happily] i. e. haply. 
 
 Each. Ay, by Saint Nicholas :* — lady, sweet 
 lady,— 
 
 Anna. Sir, I have now a masculine vigour, 
 And will redeem myself with purchase t too. 
 What money have you? 
 
 Eoch. Not a cross,! by this foolish hand of 
 mine. 
 
 Anna. No money? 'twere pity, then, to take 
 this from thee ; 
 I know thou'lt use me ne'er the worse for this ; 
 Take it again, I know not how to use it : 
 A frown had taken't from me, which thou hadst 
 
 not. 
 And now hear and believe me, — on my knees 
 I make the protestation ; forbear 
 To take what violence and danger must 
 Dissolve, if I forgo 'em now. I do assure 
 You would not strike my head off for my chain. 
 Nor my hand for this : how to deliver 'em 
 Otherwise, I know not. Accompany 
 Me back unto my house, 'tis not far off: 
 By all the vows which this day I have tied 
 Unto my wedded husband, the honour 
 Yet equal with my cradle-purity, 
 (If you will tax me,) to the hoped joys. 
 The blessings of the bed, posterity, 
 Or what aught else by woman may be pledg'd, 
 I will deliver you in ready coin 
 The full and dear'st esteem § of what you crave. 
 
 Eoch. Ha ! ready money is the prize I look for : 
 It walks without suspicion any where. 
 When chains and jewels may be stay'd and call'd 
 Before the constable : but ■ 
 
 Anna. But ! can you doubt ? 
 You saw I gave you my advantage up : 
 Did you e'er think a woman to be true ? 
 
 Eoch. Thought's free : I have heard of some 
 few, lady, 
 Very few indeed. 
 
 Anna. Will you add one more to your belief] 
 
 Eoch. They were fewer than the articles of my 
 belief ; 
 Therefore I have room for you, and will believe 
 
 you. 
 Stay ; you'll ransom your jewels with ready coin ; 
 So may you do, and then discover me. 
 
 Anna. Shall I reiterate the vows I made 
 To this injunction, or new ones coin ? 
 
 Eoch. Neither; I'll trust you : if you do destroy 
 
 * a had derl:, are you not ? Ay, by Saint Nicholas] A cant 
 name for thieves was St. Nicholas' clerks. 
 t purchase] i. e. booty. 
 J a cross] See note f, p. 196. 
 § eiteem] i.e. value. 
 
296 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 A thief that never yet did robbery, 
 Then farewell I, and mercy full upon me I 
 I knew one once fifteen years courtier old. 
 And he was buried ere he took a bribe : 
 It may be my case in the worker way. 
 Come, you know your path back. 
 
 Anna. YcH, I shall guide you. 
 
 Roch. Your arm : I'll lead with greater dread 
 than will ; 
 Xor do you fear, though in thief a handling still. 
 
 SCENE III.' 
 
 Entrr Two Buys, one trilh a CliilJ in hi* ariiU. 
 
 Firtt liijy. I say 'twas fair play. 
 
 Sec. Boy. To snatch up stakes ! I say you should 
 not say so, if the child were out of mine arms. 
 
 Pirit Boy. Ay, then thou'dst lay about like a 
 man : but the child will not be out of thine arms 
 this five years ; and then thouhastaprcuticeship 
 to 8er\'e to a boy afterwards. 
 
 Stc. Boy. So, sir : yoii know you have the 
 advautiige of mc. 
 
 Pirtt Hoy. I'm sure you have the odds of me ; 
 you are two to one. — But, soft, Jack ! who comes 
 here) if a point will make us friends, we'll not 
 fall out. 
 
 Ste. Boy. 0, the pity ! 'tis gaffer Compass : 
 they Miid ho was dead three years ago. 
 
 Pint Boy. Did not ho dance the hobby-horso 
 in Hackney -morris once ? 
 
 Stc. Boy. Yes, yes, at Ciroengooso fair; as honest 
 and ajt poor a man. 
 
 Entrr CompajW. 
 
 Comp. ntackwall, sweet Blackwall, do I see thy 
 whito chroks again ! I have brouglit some brine 
 from Mtt for thoo ; t*ani that might bo tied in a 
 truo lova knot, for tlioy'ro fre»h salt in<loetl. O 
 beautiful Blatkwttll ! If Urw), my wife, bo living 
 toUiiadny, though she die tom<>rrow,nweet Fates ! 
 
 Ktc. Boy. Aliu, lot's put him out of his dumps, 
 tot pUjf sake. —Welcome houio, galfor Compass. 
 
 Pint Buy. Welcome homo, gulFor. 
 
 Comp. My pmlly youllu, I thank you.— Honest 
 
 J«ck, what a little uuin art thou grown since I 
 
 MW Iheo I Thou haul got a child since, mctliinks. 
 
 '"jr. I am fain to keep it, you soo, whoso- 
 
 It, KalTur : It mwy bo imotlirr man's case 
 
 M Mrll M Ulil ' 
 
 Comp. Sayest true. Jack : and whose pretty 
 knave is it 1 
 
 Sec. Boy. One that I mean to make a younger 
 brother, if he live to't, gaffer. But I can tell you 
 news : you have a brave boy of your own wife's ; 
 0, 'tis a shot to this pig 1 
 
 Comp. Have I, Jack ? I'll owe thee a dozen of 
 points * for this news. 
 
 Sec. Boy. 0, 'tis a chopping boy ! it cannot 
 choose, you know, gaffer, it was so long a-breeding. 
 
 Comp. How long, Jack ? 
 
 Sec. Boy. You know 'tis four year ago since you 
 went to sea, and your child is but a quarter old 
 yet. 
 
 Comp. Wliat plaguy boys are bred now-a-days ! 
 
 First Boy. Pray, gaffer, how long may a child 
 be breeding before 'tis born 1 
 
 Comp. That is as things are and prove, child; 
 the soil has a great hand in't too, the horizon, 
 and the clime : these things you'll underetand 
 when you go to sea. In some parts of Loudon 
 hard by you shall have 'a bride manied to-day, 
 and brought to bed within a month after, some- 
 times witiiin three weeks, a fortnight. 
 
 First Boy. horrible ! 
 
 Comp. True, as I tell you, lads. In another 
 place you shall have a couple of drones, do what 
 they can, shift lodgings, beds, bedfellows, yet not 
 a child in ten yeare. 
 
 Sec. Boy. pitiful ! 
 
 Comp. Now it varies again by that time you 
 come at Wajjping, Ratcliff, Limehouse, and here 
 with us at Blackwall ; our children come un- 
 certainly, as the wind serves. Sometime* hero 
 we are supposed to be away three or four year 
 together: 'tis nothing so; wo are at home and 
 gone again, when nobody knows ou't. If you'll 
 believe me, I have been at Surat, as this day ; I 
 have taken the long-boat, (a fair gale with me,) 
 been here a-bed with my wife by twelve o'clock 
 at night, up and gone ag;iin i'tho morning, and 
 no num the wiser, if you'll believe mc. 
 
 Sec. Boy. Yes, yes, gaffer, I have thought bo 
 many times, — that you orsomeboilyolso have been 
 at home : I lie at next wall, and I have heard a 
 noise iu your chamber all night long. 
 
 Comp. Right: why, that was I ; yet thou never 
 saw est mo. 
 
 See. Boy. No. itidooil, gaffor. 
 
 Cotnp. No, I warrant thee; I was a thousand 
 leagues off oro thou wort up. But, Jack, I have 
 
 * pMmt*] i.e. the tAffKO^ 
 braoahes to the doublet. 
 
 luccH which fiwlciioil tho 
 
SCENE IIT, 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 297 
 
 been loth to ask all this while, for discomforting 
 myself, how does my wife ? is she living ] 
 
 Sec. Boy. 0, never better, gaffer, never so lusty : 
 and truly she wears better clothes than she was 
 wont in your days, especially on holidays, — fair 
 gowns, brave petticoats, and fine smocks, they say 
 that have seen 'em ; and some of the neighbours 
 report that they were taken up at London. 
 
 Com}). Like enough : they must be paid for. 
 Jack. 
 
 Sec. Boy. And good reason, gaffer. 
 
 Comp. Well, Jack, thou shalt have the honour 
 on't : go tell my wife the joyful tidings of my 
 return. 
 
 Sec. Boy. That I will, for she heard you were 
 dead long ago. \_Exit. 
 
 First Boy. Nay, sir, I'll be as forward as you, 
 by your leave. [Exit. 
 
 Comp. Well, wife, if I be one of the livery, I 
 thank thee. The hoi-ners are a great company : 
 there may be an alderman amongst us one day : 
 'tis but changing our copy, aud then we are no 
 more to be called by our old brother-hood. 
 
 Bitter Urse. 
 
 Urse. my sweet Compass, art thou come 
 again * 
 
 Comp. Urse, give me leave to shed ! the 
 fountains * of love will have their course : though 
 I cannot sing at first sight, yet I can cry before I 
 see. I am new come into the world, and children 
 cry before they laugh a fair while. 
 
 U)'se. And so thou art, sweet Compass, new-born 
 indeed. 
 For rumour laid thee out for dead long since. 
 I never thought to see this face again : 
 I heard thou wert div'd to the bottom of the sea, 
 And taken up a lodging in the sands. 
 Never to come to Blackwall again. 
 
 Comp. I was going, indeed, wife ; but I turned 
 back : I heard an ill report of my neighboiu-s, — 
 sharks and sword-fishes, and the like, whose com- 
 panies I did not like. Come kiss my tears, now, 
 sweet Urse : sorrow begins to ebb. 
 
 Urse. A thousand times welcome home, sweet 
 Compass ! 
 
 Comp. An ocean of thanks ; and that will hold 
 'em. And, Urse, how goes all at home ? or can- 
 not all go yet ? lank still? will't never be full sea 
 at our wharf? 
 
 Urse. Alfts, husband ! 
 
 Comp. A lass or a lad, wench? I should be glad 
 
 * fovMtains\ The old ed. ''fountain." 
 
 of both : I did look for a pair of Compasses before 
 this day. 
 
 Urse. And you from home ? 
 
 Comp. I from home ! why, though I be from 
 home, and other of our neighbours from home, 
 it is not fit all should be from home ; so the town 
 might be left desolate, and our neighbours of 
 Bow might coiue further from the Itacus,* and 
 inhabit here. 
 
 Urse. I'm glad you're merry, sweet husband, j 
 
 Comp. Merry ! nay, I'll be merrier yet : why 
 should I be sorry ] I hope my boy's well, is he 
 not? I looked for another by this time. 
 
 Urse. What boy, husband ? 
 
 Comp. What boy ! why, the boy I got when I 
 came home in the cock-boat one night about a 
 year ago: you have not forgotten't, I hope. I 
 think I left behind for a boy, and a boy I must 
 be answered : I'm sure I was not di-unk; it could 
 be no girl. 
 
 Urse. Nay, then, I do perceive my fault is 
 known : 
 Dear man, your pardon ! 
 
 Comp. Pardon ! why, thou hast not made away 
 my boy, hast thou? I'll hang thee, if there were 
 ne'er a whore in London more, if thou hast hurt 
 but his little toe. 
 
 Urse. Your long absence, with rumour of your 
 death, — 
 After long battery I was surpris'd. 
 
 Comp. Surprised ! I cannot blame thee : Black- 
 wall, if it were double black-walled, can't hold 
 out always, no more than Limehouse, or Shad- 
 well, or the strongest suburbs about London ; and 
 when it comes to that, woe be to the city too ! 
 
 Urse. Pursu'd by gifts and promises, I yielded : 
 Consider, husband, I am a woman. 
 Neither the first nor last of such offenders. 
 'Tis true I have a child. 
 
 Comp. Ha' you? and what shall I have, then, 
 I pray ? Will not you labour for me, as I shall 
 do for you? Because I was out o' the way when 
 'twas gotten, shall I lose my share ? There's 
 better law amongst the players yet ; for a fellow 
 shall have his share, though he do not play that 
 day. If you look for any part of my four years' 
 wages, I will have half the boy. 
 
 Urse. If you can forgive me, I shall be joy'd 
 at it. 
 
 Comp. Forgive thee ! for what 1 for doing me 
 a pleasiu-e ? And what is he that would seem to 
 father my child ? 
 
 Itaciu(\ Seems to be a misprint. 
 
298 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Urte. A man, eir, whom in better courtesies 
 We have been beholding to, the merchant 
 ■ Master Frauckfonl. 
 
 Comp. Ill aeknowlc<l>;o no other courtesies: 
 for this I am beholding to him, an«l I would 
 requite it, if his wife were young enough. Though 
 he bo one of our merchants at sea, he shall give 
 me leave to be owner at home. And where's my 
 boy f shall I sec him T 
 
 line. Hc'b nuru'd at Bednal-Green : ' 'tis now 
 too lato; 
 To-morrow I'll bring you to it, if you please. 
 
 Comf). I would thou couldst bring me another 
 by to-morrow. Come, we'll eat, and to bed; and 
 if a fair gale come, we'll hoist sheets, and set 
 forward H. 
 
 Lot fainting fools lie sick upon their scorns ; 
 ril teach a cuckold how to hide his horns. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IV. t 
 
 fiiJ/^r WooDiiori', FiiANCKfoRi), Uavmond, Eustace, 
 Ubovko, Lkinkl, Clark, and Lcck. 
 
 Wowl. This wants a precedent, that a bride- 
 groom 
 Should so discreet and decently observe 
 His forms, postures, all cui-tomary rites 
 lielonging to the table, and then hide himself 
 From his expected wages in tlio bed. 
 
 Pranck. Let this be forgotten too, that it 
 rt'inain X not 
 A fintt oxaui|ilo. , 
 
 llay. K<-ep it amongst us, 
 Lost it beget too much unfruitful sorrow. 
 Must likely 'tis, that love to Lossingham 
 Haiti faiteni'-d ou him, we all denied. 
 
 Hum. 'Tis more certain than likuly : I know 
 
 'tia »o. 
 (Jror. Coueeal, then : the event may bo well 
 
 enough. 
 Wood. The bride, my daughter, she is hidden 
 t<K» ; 
 ' liour she hnth not boeu soon with us. 
 /• IVrha|>« lh<«y aro together. 
 hust. And then we make too strict an iixpii- 
 ■llion : 
 Uodor mrrootiou of fair mmloHty. 
 Hhoul.l they Im storn away to bod together, 
 \\ I. ,'. «ould you aay to that 1 
 
 • / 
 
 • W.««lr..H 
 
 Wood. I would say, speed 'em well ; 
 And if no worse news comes, I'll never weep 
 for't. 
 
 EnUr Nurse. 
 How now! hast thou any tidings? 
 Nurse. Yes, forsooth, I have tidings. 
 Wood. Of any one that's lost? 
 Nurse. Of one that's found again, forsooth. 
 Wood. 0, he was lost, it seems, then. 
 Franch. This tidings comes to me, I guess, sir. 
 Nurse. Yes, truly, does it, sir. 
 Ray. Ay, have old lads work for young nursosi 
 Eust. Yes, when they groan towards theii* se- 
 cond infancy. 
 Clare, [aside] I fear myself most guilty for the 
 absence 
 Of the bridegroom. AVhat our wills will do 
 With over-rash and headlong peevishness 
 To bring our calm discretions to repentance ! 
 Lessingham's mistaken, quite out o' the way 
 Of my purpose too. 
 Pranck. Returu'd ! 
 Nurse. And all discover'd. 
 Franck. A fool rid him further off! Let him not 
 Come near the child. 
 
 Nurse. Nor see't, if it bo your charge. 
 Franck. It is, and strictly. 
 Nurse. To-morrow morning, as I hear, he pur- 
 poseth 
 To come to Bednal-Grcen, his wife with him. 
 Franck. He shall be met there : yet if ho fore- 
 stall 
 My coming, keep tho child safe. 
 
 Nurse. If he bo 
 Tlio earlier up, he shall arrive at the proverb." 
 
 1 Kcit. 
 ]\'o'>d. So, so ; 
 There's some good luck yet, tho bride's in sight 
 again. 
 
 lilllrr ASNAIIKL anil RtK-UKIKLD. 
 
 Anna. Father, and gentlemen all, boscech you 
 Entreat this gentleman with all comtesy : 
 He is a loving kinsiiuui of !ny IV)nvile's, 
 That kindly camo to gratulato our wedding ; 
 Ihit as tiio iluy fulls out, you see alone 
 I personate both groom and brido ; only 
 Your help to make this welcome bettor. 
 
 Wootl. Most tloarly. 
 
 • tht yriityrfi] " Kiu'ly u|i luid iiovor llio ncuror." 
 
 Hay's Proirrltt, \t. 101, od. ITcW. 
 "You nay tnio, Mimlur Siil>lla; I Imvo liooiio Mr/y «/>, 
 liiit, iiM (I>hI Iiii||iu Mil', I WUK nnrr tht ntrrt." 
 
 Klol.l* .immdtfor iMdic*, »lj{. F 3, od. Ifttl). 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
SCEN"E IV. 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD, 
 
 299 
 
 Ray. To all, assure you, sir. 
 
 Wood. But wbere's the bridegroom, girl ? 
 We are all at a nonplus, here, at a stand, 
 Quite out; the music ceas'd, and dancing sur- 
 
 bated,* 
 Not a light heel amongst us ; my cousin Clare too 
 .^s cloudy here as on a washing-day. 
 
 Clare. It is because you will not dance with me; 
 I should then shake it off. 
 
 Anna. 'Tis I have cause 
 To be the sad one now, if any be : 
 But I have question'd with my meditations. 
 And they have render'd well and comfortably 
 To the worst fear I found. Suppose this day 
 He had long since appointed to his foe 
 To meet, and fetch a reputation from him, 
 Which is the dearest jewel unto man : 
 Say he do fight, I know his goodness such, 
 That all those powers that love it are his guard, 
 And ill cannot betide him. 
 
 Wood. Prithee, peace; 
 Thou'lt make us all cowards to hear a woman 
 Instruct so valiantly. — Come, the music ! 
 I'll dance myself rather than thios put down : 
 What ! I am rife t a little yet. 
 
 Anna. Only this gentleman 
 Pray you be free in welcome to : I tell you 
 I was in a fear when first I saw him. 
 
 Roch. \aside\ Ha ! she'll telL 
 
 Anna. I had quite lost my way in 
 My first amazement ; but he so fairly came 
 To my recovery, in his kind conduct 
 Gave me such loving comforts to my fears ; 
 'Twas he instructed me in what I spake. 
 And many better than I have told you yet ; 
 You shall hear more anon. 
 
 Roch. [cLside] So, she wiU out with't. 
 
 Anna. I must, I see, supply both places still. — 
 Come, when I have seen you back to your pleasure, 
 I will return to you, sir : we must discourse 
 More of my Bonvile yet. 
 
 Omnes. A noble bride, faith. 
 
 Clare. You have your wishes, and you may be 
 merry : 
 Mine have over-gone me. 
 
 [Exeunt all (xcept Rochfield. 
 
 Roch. It is the trembling'st trade to be a thief ! 
 H'ad need have all the world bound to the peace, 
 Besides the bushes and the vanes of houses : 
 Every thing that moves, he goes in fear of 's life on ; 
 A fur-gown' d cat, an meet her in the night, 
 
 * the dancing surhoted] Equivalent to — the dancers fa- 
 tigued. To surbate is to batter or weary with treadiug. 
 t rj/e] Seems to be used here in the sense of^active. 
 
 She stares with a constable's eye upon him, 
 And every dog a watchman ; a black cow, 
 And a calf with a white face after her. 
 Shows like a surly justice and his clerk ; 
 And if the baby go but to the bag, 
 'Tis ink and paper for a mittimus. 
 Sure, I shall never thrive on't ; and it may be 
 I shall need take no care, — I may be now 
 At my journey's end, or but the goal's distance. 
 And so to the t'other place. I trust a woman 
 With a secret worth a hanging ; is that well ? 
 I could find in my heart to run away yet : 
 And that were base too, to run from a woman : 
 I can lay claim to nothing but her vows. 
 And they shall strengthen me. 
 
 Re-enter Annabel. 
 Anna. See, sir, my promise : 
 [Giving money] There's twenty pieces, the full 
 
 value, I vow. 
 Of what they cost. 
 
 Roch. Lady, do not trap me 
 Like a sumpter-horse, and then spur-gall me 
 Till I break my wind. If the constable 
 Be at the door, let his fair staff appear : 
 Perhaps I may corrupt him with this gold. 
 
 Aytna. Nay, then, if you mistrust me, — Father, 
 gentlemen, 
 Master Raymond, Eustace ! 
 
 Re-enter Woodroff, Francktokd, Raymond, Eustace, 
 Grover, Lionel, Clare, and Luce, tcith, a Sailor. 
 
 Wood. How now ! what's the matter, girl ? 
 
 Anna. For shame, will you bid youi' kinsman 
 welcome 1 
 No one but I will lay a hand on him : 
 Leave him alone, and all a-revelling ! 
 
 Wood. 0, is that it ? — Welcome, welcome 
 heai'tily ! — 
 I thought the bridegi'oom had been retum'd. — But 
 I have news, Annabel ; this fellow brought it. — 
 Welcome, sir ! why, you tremble methinks, sir. 
 
 Anna. Some agony of anger 'tis, believe it, 
 His entertainment is so cold and feeble. 
 
 Ray. Pray, be cheer'd, sir. 
 
 Roch. I'm wondrous well, sir; 'twas the gentle- 
 man's mistake. 
 
 Wood. 'Twas my hand shook belike, then; you 
 must pardon 
 Age, I was stiffer once. But as I was saying, 
 I should by promise see the sea to-morrow 
 ('Tis meant for physic) as low as Lee or Margate : * 
 
 * Margate'] Here, and in Act III. sc. 3, the old ed. has 
 "JIargets"; butin Act. V. sc. 1, it has "Marget." 
 
300 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 ACT UU 
 
 I baT« « TeBsel riding forth, gentlemen, 
 
 'Tis callM the God -speed too, 
 
 Though I say't, a brave one, well and richly 
 
 fraughted ; 
 And I ain tell you she cairies a letter of mart 
 In her mouth too, and twenty roaring boys 
 On both sides on her, starboard and larboard. 
 What say you now, to mako you all adventurers ? 
 You sliall have fair dealing, that I'll promise you. 
 
 Ray. A very good motion, sir : I begin ; 
 [Gtriiiy money] There's my ten pieces. 
 
 £u4(. ! Hiring money] I .«econd 'em with tliese. 
 
 Gror. [Giriny mon>-i/] My ten in the third place. 
 
 Jioch. [(tiring money] And, sir, if you refuse not 
 a proffor'd love, 
 Take my ten pieces with you too. 
 
 Wood. Vours above all the rest, sir. 
 
 Anna. Then make 'em above, venture ten more. 
 
 lioch. Alas, lady, 'tis a younger brother's 
 portion, 
 And all in one bottom ! 
 
 Anna. At my encouragement, sir : 
 Your credit, if you want, sir, nhall not sit down 
 Under that sum returu'd. 
 
 Hoch. With all my heart, lady. — [Giving monty] 
 There, sir. — 
 [Aside] So, she has fish'd for her gold back, and 
 
 caught it ; 
 I am no thief now. 
 
 Wood. I shall make here a pretty assurance. 
 Jioch. Sir, I shall have a suit to you. 
 Wood. You are likely to obtain it, then, t-ir. 
 Roch. That I may keep you company to sea. 
 And attend you back : I am a little travell'd. 
 Wood. And heartily thank you too, sir. 
 Anna. Why, that's well said. — 
 Pray you be merry : though your kinsman be ab- 
 sent, 
 I am here, the worst part of him ; yet that shall 
 
 serve 
 To give you welcome : to-morrow may show you 
 What this night will not; and be full assur'd, 
 Unless your twenty pieces be ill-lent, 
 Nothing shall give you cause of discontent. 
 [Giving money] There's ten more, sir. 
 
 Roch. [aside] Why should I fear? Foutre on't ! 
 I will be merry now, spite of the hangman. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Sf'KNK 1.* 
 Filler Lr»iiNtiiiAM xik/ Ousvii.k. 
 
 Hon, We lire firut i'the held : 1 think your enemy 
 !■ aUy'd at Dover or »onio other port. 
 We hear not of hia himling. 
 
 Leu. I am confident • 
 
 H« U come over. 
 
 Bon. You lo<*k, melbiiika, fresh-colour'd. 
 
 Leu. Like a rod morning, friend, that still fore- 
 telU 
 A •tunny tiny to follcjw : but, mothinkn, 
 Now I obwervo yuur fiioo, that you look pale ; 
 Tli«r«'a doath in't already. 
 
 Iton. I could ihido your error. 
 Do you taka nio for a coward ( A coward 
 la not hia own fHcn.l, nuicii 1< mi can ho be 
 Anulltor nuui'a. Know, nir, I am come hither 
 To h»«truct you, by my gonoroua example. 
 To kill your oneuiy, wLom name tu yot 
 1 Mnrer ipiMliou'd. 
 
 Ltu Nor .lure I name him yet 
 
 V..» .1 .1.. r*. . 
 
 / J < aI«U muiU, 
 
 Jioit. I do begin to doubt 
 The goodness of your quai-rel. 
 
 Lass. Now you have't ; 
 For I protest that I must fight with one 
 From whom, in the whole courae of our ac- 
 
 q\iaiutance, 
 I never did receive the least injury. 
 
 lion. It may bo the foi-gctful * wine begot 
 Some sudden blow, and thereupon thisf challenge. 
 Howe'er you are eiigag'd; and, for my j^art, 
 I will not take your course, my imlucky friend. 
 To say your conscience grows pule and heartless, 
 Maiiituiuing ii bud cause. Fight us lawyers ple<id, 
 Who gain the best of reputation 
 When they can fetch a biul cause smoothly off: 
 You are in, and must through. 
 
 Lfsi. my friend, 
 The noblest ever man had I When my fate 
 Threw me upon this business, I made trial 
 
 • /orfftiful] Ho Milton : 
 
 " ll Itio Hliopy ilfoiioh 
 Ol Otal /urpr</ul luko l>ciiiuiib not hUU," Ac. 
 
 /■iir. lost. ii. 7:l. 
 
 ♦ /Ai»l ThooMod. "•Un." 
 
A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 301 
 
 Of divers bad profess'd to me much love, 
 
 And found tlieir friendship, like the effects that 
 
 kept 
 Our company together, wine and riot : 
 Giddy and sinking I had found 'em oft, 
 Brave seconds at pluralities of healths ; 
 But when it came to the proof, my gentlemen 
 Appear'd to me as promising and failing 
 As cozening lotteries. But then I found 
 This jewel worth a thousand counterfeits : 
 I did but name my engagement, and you flew 
 Unto my succour with that cheerfulness 
 As a great general bastes to a battle, 
 When that the chief of the adverse part 
 Is a man glorious and * of ample fame ; 
 You left your bridal bed to find your death-bed ; 
 And herein you most nobly express'd 
 That the affection 'tween two loyal friends 
 Is far beyond the love of man to woman. 
 And is more near allied to eternity. 
 What better friend's part could be show'd i'the 
 
 world ! 
 It transcends all : my father gave me life, 
 But you stand by my honour when 'tis falling, 
 And nobly underprop + it with your sword. 
 But now you have done me all this service, 
 How, how, shall I requite this ] how return 
 My grateful recompense for all this love ? 
 For it am I come hither with full purpose 
 To kill you. 
 
 Bon. Ha! 
 
 Less. Yes, I have no opposite i'the world but 
 Yourself: [Giving letter] there, read the warrant 
 for your death. 
 
 Bon. 'Tis a woman's hand. 
 
 Less. And 'tis a bad hand too : 
 The most of 'em speak fair, write foul, mean worse. 
 
 Bon. Kill me ! Away, you jest. 
 
 Less. Such jest as your sharp-witted gallants use 
 To utter, and lose their friends. Read there how I 
 Am fetter'd in a woman's proud command : 
 I do love madly, and must do madly. 
 Deadliest hellebore or vomit of a toad 
 Is qualified poison to the malice of a woman. 
 
 Bon. And kill that friend ] strange ! 
 
 Less. You may see, su-, 
 Although the tenure by which land was held 
 In villanage be quite extinct in England, 
 Yet you have women there at this day living 
 Make a number of slaves. 
 
 Bon. And kill that friend! 
 She mocks you, upon my life, she does equivocate : 
 
 * and] The old ed. "but." 
 
 t underprop] The old ed. " under-propt." 
 
 Her meaning is, you cherish in your breast 
 Either self-love, or pride, as your best friend. 
 And she wishes you'd kill that. 
 
 Less. Sure, her command 
 Is more bloody ; for she loathes me, and has put, 
 As she imagines, this impossible task. 
 For ever to be quit and free from me : 
 But such is the violence of my affection, 
 That I must undergo it. Draw your sword. 
 And guard yourself : though I fight in fury, 
 I shall kill you in cold blood, for I protest 
 'Tis done in heart-sorrow. 
 
 Bon. I'll not fight with you. 
 For I have much advantage : the truth is, 
 I wear a privy coat. 
 
 Less. Prithee, put it off, then. 
 If thou* beest manly. 
 
 Bon. The defence I mean is the justice of my 
 cause ; 
 That wovild guard me, and fly to thy destruction. 
 What confidence thou wear'st in a bad cause ! 
 I am likely to kill thee, if I fight ; 
 And then you fail to effect your mistress' bidding. 
 Or to enjoy the fruit oft. I have ever 
 Wished thy happiness, and vow I now 
 So much affect it, in compassion 
 Of my friend's sorrow : make thy way to it.f 
 
 Less. That were a cruel murder. 
 t Bon. Believe't, 'tis ne'er intended otherwise, 
 When 'tis a woman's bidding. 
 
 Less. the necessity of my fate ! 
 
 Bon. You shed tears. 
 
 Less. And yet must on in my cruel purpose : 
 A judge, methinks, looks loveliest when he weeps 
 Pronouncing of death's sentence. How I stagger 
 In my resolve ! Guard thee, for I came hither 
 To do and not to suffer. Wilt not yet 
 Be persuaded to defend thee ? turn the point, 
 Advance it from the ground above thy head, 
 And let it underprop thee otherwise 
 In a bold resistance. 
 
 Bon. Stay. Thy injunction was 
 Thou shouldst kill thy friend. 
 
 Less. It was, 
 
 Bon. Observe me. 
 He wrongs me most ought to offend me least. 
 And they that study man say of a friend. 
 There's nothing in the world that's harder found. 
 Nor sooner lost. Thou cam'st to kill thy friend, 
 And thou mayst brag thou hast done't ; for here 
 for ever 
 
 * thou] The old ed. "then." 
 
 t maXe thy way to it] Something seems to liave dropt 
 out here. 
 
302 
 
 A CUKE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 All friendship dies between ub, and my heart, 
 
 For briiiiipuu forth any effect* of love, 
 
 Shall bo aa baireu to tlice tui this sand 
 
 We tread ou, cruel and iucoasUiiit as 
 
 The sea that beats upon this beach. We now 
 
 Are BcverM : thuii hiiHt thou slaiu thy friend. 
 
 And aatiflfied what the witch, thy mistreas, bade 
 
 thee. 
 Go, and report that thou haat slain thy friend. 
 
 Leu. I am acrv'd right. 
 
 Bon. And now that I do ceaao to be thy friend, 
 I will fight with thee as thine enemy : 
 I came nut over idly to do nothing. 
 
 Lett. friend ! 
 
 Bon. Friend ! 
 Tlie naming of that word shall be the quarrel. 
 What do I know but that thou lov'st my wife, 
 And feign 'diit this plot to divide mo from her bed, 
 And that this letter hero is counterfeit? 
 Will you advance, sir? 
 
 Leu. Not a blow : 
 Twould appear ill in either of us to fight, 
 In you unnianly ; for believe it, sir, 
 You have disarm'd me alrea<lj', done away 
 All i>ower of resititiuice in mo. It would show 
 Beaitly to do wrong to the dead : to me you say 
 You are dead for ever, lost on Calais-sands 
 By the cruelty of a W(jnmn. Yet remember 
 You iuul a noble friend, whose love to you 
 Shall continue after deiith. Shall I go over 
 In the aame burk with you '. 
 
 Bon. Not for yon town 
 Of Calau : yuu know 'tis dangerous hving 
 At aea wiUi a dead body. 
 
 Leu. 0, you mock me. 
 May you enjoy all your noble wishes ! 
 
 Bon. And may you find a belter friend tlwm I, 
 And betltrr keep him ! [JixettiU. 
 
 SCENE 1I.» 
 
 HMer Nurao, CtiMfAia, ami Uhhk. 
 Stute. Indoe<l, you muHt |>anlon mo, K0()dmun 
 fV.f„].,wi; I liuvo iiu authority to iloliver, no, not 
 I uoo Iha child : to U'U you true. 1 liuvo 
 •I unto tlio contrary. 
 < 'Wf.. CouiniMKl! from whom r 
 .\ <4'tt. My ll.o fatltor of it. 
 ('.,.«;. Thofatlivrl who Kiu n 
 \.. .« Not Urn father, aure: the civil law haa 
 ' oUterwLML 
 
 • »m< // I llailiiua Urvou. 
 
 Comp. The civil law I why, then, the uncivil law 
 shall make it mine again. I'll be as dreadful as a 
 Shrove-Tuesday* to thee : I will tear thy cottage, 
 but 1 will sec my child. 
 
 Nurse. Speak but half so much again, I'll call 
 the constable, and lay burglary to thy charge. 
 
 Urse. My good husband, be patient. — And, pri- 
 thee, nurse, let him see the child. 
 
 Nurse. Indeed, I dare not. 
 The father first deliver'd me the child : 
 He pays me well and weekly for mj' pains. 
 And to his use I keep it. 
 
 Comp. Why, thou white bastard-breeder, is not 
 this the mother] 
 
 Nurse. Yes, I grant you that. 
 
 Comp. Dost thou ] and I grant it too : and is not 
 the child mine own, then, by the wife's copyhold] 
 
 Nurse. The law must try that. 
 
 Comp. Law I dost think I'll be but a father-in- 
 law ? All the law betwixt Blackwall and Tuthill- 
 street (and there's a pretty deal) shall not keep 
 it from mc, mine own flesh and blood : who does 
 use to get my children but myself? 
 
 Nurse. Nay, you umst look to that : I ne'er 
 knew you get any. 
 
 Comp. Never ? Put on a clean smock and try 
 me, if thou darest; three to one I get a bastard on 
 thee to-morrow morning between one and three. 
 
 Nurse. I'll see thee hanged first. 
 
 Comp. So thou shalt too. 
 
 Enter Franckfoio) ami Lvce. 
 
 Nurse. 0, here's the father : now, pray, talk 
 with him. 
 
 Fraiick. Good morrow, neighboiir : morrow to 
 you both. 
 
 Comp. Both ! Morrow to yuu and your wife 
 too. 
 
 Pranck. I would .speak calmly with you. 
 
 Comp. I know what belongs to a c<dm and a 
 storm too. A cold won! with you : you have tietl 
 your nuuo in my ground. 
 
 Fniiick: No, 'twas luy nag. 
 
 Comp. I will cut oil" your nag's Uu\, and mnko 
 hi« rump make hair buttons, if e'er I take him 
 there again. 
 
 Pranck. Well, sir : but to the main. 
 
 Comp. Mane! you, and I'll clip his mnno too, 
 and crop his ears too, do you nmrk ! and Imckgidl 
 him, and spurgall him, do you note ! and slit his 
 UO«o, do you smell me now, sir? nnbreech his 
 barnd, and disduuge his bulleta; I'll gird him 
 till lio stinks ; you suifll mo now I'm sure. 
 • Mroi«-7WMtay| tioo note f. P- «T4. 
 
SCKNK III. 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 303 
 
 Pranck. You are too rough, neighbour. To 
 maintain 
 
 Comp. Maintain ! you shall not maintain no 
 child of mine : my ■wife does not bestow her 
 labour to that purpose. 
 
 Franck. You ai-e too speedy. I will not main- 
 t.ain 
 
 Comp. No, marry, shall you not. 
 
 Franck. The deed to be lawful : 
 I have repented it, and to the law 
 Given satisfaction ; my purse has paid for't. 
 
 Comp. Your purse ! 'twas my wife's purse : you 
 brought in the coin indeed, but it was foimd base 
 and counterfeit. 
 
 Franck. I would treat colder with you, if you 
 be pleased. 
 
 Comp. Pleased ! yes, I am pleased well enough : 
 serve me so still. I am going again to sea one of 
 these days : you know where I dwell. Yet you'll 
 but lose your labour : get as many children as 
 you can, you shall keep none of them. 
 
 Franck. You are mad. 
 
 Comp. If I be horn-mad, what's that to you ] 
 
 Franck. I leave off milder phrase, and then tell 
 you plain, you are a • 
 
 Comp. A what ? what am I ? 
 
 Franck. A coxcomb. 
 
 Comp. A coxcomb ! I knew 'twould begin with 
 aC. 
 
 Franck. The child is mine, I am the father 
 of it: 
 As it is past the deed, 'tis past the shame ; 
 I do acknowledge and will enjoy it. 
 
 Comp. Yes, when you can get it again. Is it 
 not my wife's labour ? I'm sure she's the mother : 
 you may be as far off the father a^s I am, for my 
 ■wife's acquainted ■with more whoremasters besides 
 yourself, and crafty merchants too. 
 
 Urse. No, indeed., husband; to make my offence 
 Both least and most, I knew no other man : 
 He's the begetter, but the child is mine ; 
 I bi-ed and bore it, and I ■will not lose it. 
 
 Luce. The child's my husband's, dame, and he 
 must have it. 
 I do allow my sufferance to the deed. 
 In lieu I never yet was fruitful to him. 
 And in my barrenness excuse my wrong. 
 
 Comp. Let him dung his own ground better at 
 home, then : if he plant his radLsh-roots in my 
 garden, I'll eat 'em with bread and salt, though I 
 get no mutton to 'em. \\Tiat though your hus- 
 band lent my wife your distaff, shall not the yam 
 be mine ? I'U have the head ; let him cai'ry the 
 spindle home again. 
 
 Franck. Forbear more words, then ; let the law 
 try it.— 
 Meantime, nurse, keep the child ; and to keep it 
 
 better, 
 Here take more pay beforehand ; there's money 
 for thee. 
 
 Comp. There's money for me too : keep it for 
 me, nurse. Give him both thy dugs at once : 
 I pay for thy right dug. 
 
 Nurse. I have two hands you see : gentlemen, 
 this does but show how the law ■will hamper you: 
 even thus you must be used. 
 
 Franck. The law shall show which is the 
 worthier gender : 
 A schoolboy can do't. 
 
 Comp. I'll whip that schoolboy that declines 
 the child from my wife and her heii-s : do not I 
 know my wife's case, the genitive case, and that's 
 hujus, as great a case as can be ] 
 
 Franck. Well, fare you well : we shall meet in 
 another place. — 
 Come, Luce. [Exeunt Frauckfobd and Luce. 
 
 Comp. Meet her in the same place again, if you 
 dare, and do your worst. Must we go to law for 
 our children now-a-days ] No marvel if the 
 la^wyers grow rich : but ere the law shall have a 
 limb, a leg, a joint, a nail, 
 
 I will spend more than a whole child in getting : 
 Some win by play, and others by by -betting. 
 
 [Exewnt. 
 
 SCENE III* 
 
 Enterr Ravmosd, Eustace, Lionel, Grover, Ax>-abel, 
 and Clake. 
 
 Lion. Whence was that letter sent ] 
 
 Anna. From Dover, sir. 
 
 Lion. And does that satisfy you what was the 
 cause 
 Of his going over ? 
 
 Anna. It does : yet had he 
 Only sent this, it had been sufficient. 
 
 Ray. Why, what's that] 
 
 Anna. His will, wherein 
 He has estated me in all his land. 
 
 Eust. He's gone to fight. 
 
 Lion. Lessingham's second, certain. 
 
 Anna. And I am lost, lost in't for ever. 
 
 Clare. \aside'\ fool Lessingham, 
 Thou hast mistook my injunction utterly, 
 Utterly mistook it ! and I am mad, stark mad 
 With my own thoughts, not knowing what event 
 * Scene III.'\ The garden belonging to Woodroffs house. 
 
304 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Their going-o'er will come to. Tis too lato 
 Now fur my tongue to cry my heart mercy. 
 Would I could bo genscleas till I hear 
 Of their return ! I fear me both are lost. 
 
 Jtay. Who should it bo Lej-Hinghain's gone to 
 fight with ? 
 
 Eutt. Faith, I cannot poaaibly conjecture. 
 
 Anna. Miserable creature ! a maid, a wife, 
 And widow iu the coidikias of two days ! 
 
 Jiay. Are you sad too .' 
 
 Clare. I am not very well, sir. 
 
 Ray. I uiMut init life iu you. 
 
 Clare Let mo go, sir. 
 
 Ray. I do love you in spite of your heart 
 
 Clan. Believe it, 
 There was uover a fitter time to express it. 
 For my heart has a great deal of spite iii't. 
 
 Ray. I will discourse to you fine faucies. 
 
 Clart. Fine fooleries, will you not ? 
 
 Ray. By this hand, I love you and will court you. 
 
 Clart. Fie ! 
 You oui command your tongue, and I my ears 
 To hoar you no further. 
 
 Ray. [oMxdt] On my reputation. 
 She's off o' the hinges sti'angely. 
 
 Bntrr WoiDBorr, ItociiriEU), ami a Sailor. 
 Wuod. Daughter, good news. 
 Anna. What, is my husband heard of? 
 H'ood That's not the business : but you have 
 here a cuuaiu 
 You may be mainly proud of; and I am sorry 
 Tia by your husband's kindred, not your own, 
 That we might bout to have so bruvo u man 
 III our alliajtce. 
 
 Anna. What, ao soon return 'd F 
 You have made but a nhnrt voyage : liowsoevir 
 You are to me must welcouio. 
 » /'orA. Ijuly, thanks ; 
 Ti* y<ju Lave made me your own croaturo ; 
 Of all my being, fortunes, and poor fume, 
 I (If I liav«» fMinliaa'd any. niid of which 
 I I ' ■"*,) next tlio IiIkIi providence, 
 
 ^ ' ' '11 tlio nolo i-reutrvtwi. 
 
 A Mna. O drar cousin, 
 You are Kratuful above merit— Whut i.ic-«>i.,n 
 I)te» you %t> aooh from seal 
 
 HWr S»cl» an iKcasion, 
 A* I u<k)r birw hrftven for, you thank their bounty, 
 I Abd ali uf us be joyful. 
 Annm. Toll us b«iw. 
 M'oed. Nay, daughtor, iih> ili»c.,urM' will best 
 
 la bb i«lalion ; whero ho fails. Ill help. 
 
 Roch. Not to molest your patience with recital 
 Of every vain and needless circumstance, 
 'Twas briefly thus. Scarce having reach'd to 
 
 Margate,* 
 Bound on our voyage, suddenly in view 
 Appear'd to us three Spanish men-of-war. 
 These, having spied the English cross advance. 
 Salute us with a piece to have us strike : 
 Ours, better spirited, and no way daunted 
 At their unequal odds, though but one bottom, 
 Rcturn'd 'em fire for fire. The fight begins. 
 And dreadful on the sudden : still they proffer'd 
 To board us, still we bravely beat 'cm off. 
 Wood. But, daughter, mark the event 
 Roch. Sea-room we got : our ship being swifl 
 of sail, 
 It help'd us much. Yet two unfortunate shot. 
 One struck the captain's head off, and the other, 
 With an unlucky splinter, laid the master 
 Dead on the hatches : all our spirits then fail'd us. 
 Wood. Not all : you shall hear further, daughter. 
 Roch. For none was left to manage : nothing now 
 Was talk'd of but to yield up ship and goods. 
 And mediate for our peace. 
 Wood. Nay, coz, proceed. 
 
 Roch. Excuse me, I entreat you, for what's more 
 Hath already pass'd my memory. 
 
 Wood. But mine it never can. — Then he stood 
 up. 
 And with his oratoi-y made us again 
 To recollect our spirits, so late dejected. 
 Roch. Pray, sir, — 
 
 Wood. I'll speak 't out. — By unite consent 
 Then the command was his, and 'twas his place 
 Now to bestir him. Down ho went below, 
 And put the linstocks in the g\iuners' hands ; 
 They ply their ordnance bmvely : then again 
 Up to the docks ; courage is there renew'd, 
 Fear now not found amongst us. Within less 
 Than four hours' light two of their ships were 
 
 sunk, , 
 
 Both founder'd, and soon swallow'd. Not long 
 
 after. 
 The third t begins to vyallow, lies on the lee 
 To stop her leidcs : then boldly we come on, 
 Boanled, and took her, and she's now our prize. 
 Sailor. Of this wo wore cyo-witness. 
 Wood. And many more brave boys of im 
 besides. 
 Myself fi>r one. Never was, gentlemen, 
 A ^ea■^lght better mauiig'd. 
 y^orA. Thanks to heaven 
 
 • Murvalf] Tho old cd. " MarKft" ' 
 t third] Tho old od. "thrco." 
 
 8co uotc ', p. "JOB. 
 
A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 305 
 
 We have sav'd our own, damag'd the enemy. 
 And to our nation's glory we bring home 
 Honour and profit. 
 
 Wood. In which, cousin Rochfield, 
 You, as a venturer', have a double share, 
 Besides the name of captain, aud in that 
 A second benefit ; but, most of all, 
 Way to more great employment. 
 
 Sock, [to Annabel.] Thus your bounty 
 Hath been to me a blessing. 
 
 Hay. Sir, we are all 
 Indebted to your valour : this beginning 
 May make iis of small venturers to become 
 Hereafter wealthy merchants. 
 
 Wood. Daughter, and gentlemen, 
 This is the man was born to make us all. 
 Come, enter, enter : we will in and feast : 
 He's in the bridegroom's absence my chief guest. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 SCENE I.* 
 
 Enter Compass, Urse, Lionel, Pettifog tJte Attorney, 
 and First Boy. 
 
 Comj). Three Tuns do you call this tavern? 
 It has a good neighbour of Guildhall, Master 
 Pettifog. — Sliow a room, boy. 
 
 First Boy. Welcome, gentlemen. 
 
 Com'p. What, ai-t thou here, Hodge ? 
 
 First Boy. I am glad you are in health, sir. 
 
 Com'p. This was the honest crack-rope first gave 
 me tidings of my wife's fruitfulness. — Art bound 
 prentice 1 
 
 First Boy. Yes, sir. 
 
 Conip. Mayst thou long jumble bastardf most 
 artificially, to the profit of thy master and plea- 
 sure of thy mistress ! 
 
 First Boy. What wine drink ye, gentlemen ? 
 
 Lion. What wine relishes your palate, good 
 Master Pettifog 1 
 
 Pett. Nay, ask the woman. 
 
 Comp. Elegant J for her : I know her diet. 
 
 Pelt. Believe me, I con her thank for't § : I am 
 of her side. 
 
 * Scene /.] The Three Tuns Tavern. (But the audience 
 was not to suppose that the present party were within 
 the house, till the Boy had said " Welcome, gentlemen.") 
 
 \ hastard] The commentators on Shakespeare's First 
 Part of Htnry IVth., act ii. sc. 4, quote various passages 
 from old writers where bastard is mentioned. 
 
 " That it was a sweetish wine, there can be no doubt ; 
 and that it came from some of the coimtries which 
 border the Mediterranean, appears equally certain. . . . 
 There were two sorts, white aud brown." — Henderson's 
 Hist, of Wines, p. 290-1. 
 
 I Eltcfant] A quibble is intended here : Allegant or 
 Alligant (for our old poets write it both ways) is wine of 
 Alicant ; or perhaps the following lines may illustrate 
 Comi)ass's meaning ; 
 
 " In dreadful darkenesse Alligant lies drown'd, 
 Which marryed men invoke for procreation." 
 
 PasquiVs Palinodia, 1634, Sig. C 3. 
 
 § / con her thank for't] Annotators and dictionary- 
 
 Comp. Marry, and reason, sir : we have entei-- 
 
 tained you for our attorney. 
 
 First Boy. A cup of neat Allegant 1 
 
 Comp, Yes, but do not make it speak Welsh, 
 
 boy. 
 
 First Boy. How mean youl 
 Comp. Put no metheglin in't, ye rogue. 
 First Boy. Not a drop, as I am true Briton. [Ejcit. 
 [Tltey sit doun : Fettifog pidls out papers. 
 
 Enter, to another table, Franckford, Eustace, Luce, 
 Master Dodge a laicyer, and a Drawer. 
 
 Franch. Show a private room, drawer. 
 
 Drawer. Welcome, gentlemen.* 
 
 Bust. As far as you can fi'om noise, boy. 
 
 Drawer. Further this way, then, sir ; for in the 
 next room there are three or four fishwives 
 taking up a brabbling business. 
 
 Franck. Let's not sit near them by any means. 
 
 Dodge. Fill canary, sirrah. 
 
 [Drawer /ZZi tlidr glasses, and then exit. 
 
 Franck. And what do you think of my cause. 
 Master Dodge 1 
 
 Dodge. 0, we shall carry it most indubitably. 
 You have money to go through with the business, 
 and ne'er fear it but we'll trounce 'em : you are 
 the true father. 
 
 Luce. The mother will confess as much. 
 
 Dodge. Yes, mistress, we have taken her 
 affidavit. — Look you, sir, here's the answer to 
 his declaration. 
 
 makers have given various examples from Elizabethan 
 writers of the use of the expression "to con thanks," 
 which answers to the French sgavoir grc, — " con " signi- 
 fying know : it occurs in our old ballads ; 
 " Therefore I cnn the more thanke. 
 Thou arte come at thy day." 
 
 A Lytdl geste of Robyn Hode. 
 
 (Ritson's Robin Hood, vol. i. p. 44.) 
 * Drawer. Welcome cjentlemen] See first note in this page. 
 
306 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Franck. You may think Btrange, air, that I am 
 ut charge 
 To call a charge upon mo; but 'tin truth 
 I made a purchase lately, and in that 
 I did estate the child, 'bout which I'm su'd, 
 Jointpurchaser in all the land I bought 
 Now that's one n?aj»on that I should have care, 
 Bcsidea the tie of blood, to keep the child 
 Under my wing, and see it carefully 
 Instructed in thuttc fair abilities 
 Hay make it worthy hereafter to be mine, 
 And enjoy the land I have provided for't 
 
 Lwe. Right : and I couusell'd you to make 
 that purchase ; 
 And therefore I'll not have the child brought up 
 By HUi-h u coxcomb as now sues for him. 
 He'd bring him up only to be a swabber : 
 He was l>om a merchant and a gentleman, 
 And he Bhull live and die so. 
 
 Dodije, Worthy mistress, I drink to you : you 
 are a good woman, and but few of so noble a 
 patience. 
 
 Ji'rnirr First Boy. 
 Pir$t Hoy. Score a quart of Allegaut to the 
 Woodcock. 
 
 Bntrr Second Boy, likt a >nuricuin. 
 
 .Sec. Hoy. Will you have any music, gentlemen 1 
 
 C»mp. Music amongst lawyers! here's nothing 
 but dincord. — What, Ralph !* — Here's another of 
 tny young cuckoos I beard last April, before I 
 heard the nightingalo.+ — No music, good Ralph : 
 boro, boy ; your father was a tailor, and methinks 
 by yuur leering eye you should take after him : 
 a good b<jy ; make a leg handsomely ; scrape 
 ytiuraelf out of our cojujiany. \^Exit Second Boy.] 
 And what <lo you think of my suit, sir I 
 
 t'ttl. Why, look you, sir: the defendant was 
 arri-ntwl first by Latitat in an action of trespivss. 
 
 C'oM/i. Ami a lawyer told n»o it should have 
 frt-»-ii nn B<-ti"n of tlio i-njio:— should it not, wife? 
 
 lie i>( tiiMO hoys la Jack, the 
 ^iit hero CuMi'AN* calU one uf 
 ' iiiiiiotiooinont of ttiU aoouo 
 
 '•tg eueloot I kmnt last Aitril, 
 
 ! Ilo wlin hapiioiicxl to lionr 
 
 ■ i.(,'»lo yoM »u|>|K«o(t not 
 
 tlio eyo of (lay, 
 l.-w cucko.ii bill, 
 •' tf .f..rr'B will 
 ' a Uy. 
 
 Uo 
 
 •■"• ^:■"»o Ul(.'li." 
 
 1 Uxi'ii Hunnrt |ulA« AiyAlin|/(Wf. 
 
 Urse. I have no skill in law, sir : but you heard 
 
 r 
 
 a lawyer say so. 
 
 Pctt. Ay; but your action of the case i~ .:i 
 that point too ticklish. 
 
 Cump. But what do you think ? shall I over- 
 throw my adversary ? 
 
 Pett. Sans question. The child is none of 
 yours : what bf that ? I marry a widow is 
 )>osses8ed of a ward : shall not I have the 
 tuition of that ward ? Now, sir, you lie at a 
 stronger ward ; for partus scquitur vetUrem, says 
 the civil law ; and if you were within compass of 
 the four seas, as the common law goes, the child 
 shall be yours certain. 
 
 Comp. There's some comfort in that yet 0, 
 your attoruey.s in Guildhall have a fine time on't! 
 
 Lion. You are in effect both judge and jury 
 yourselves. 
 
 Comp. And how you will laugh at your clients, 
 when you sit in a tavern, and call them coxcombs, 
 and whip up a cause, as a barber trims his 
 customers on a Christmas-eve, a snip, a wipe, and 
 away ! 
 
 Pett. That's ordinary, sir : you shall have the 
 like at a nisi piius. 
 
 Enter First Client. 
 0, you are welcome, sir. 
 
 First Client, Sir, you'll be mindful of my suit .' 
 
 Pett. As I am religious. I'll drink to you. 
 
 First Client. I thank you. — By your favour, 
 mistress. — I have much business, and cannot 
 stay ; but there's money for a quait of wine. 
 
 Comp. By no moans. 
 
 First Client. I have said, sir. [Exit. 
 
 Pett. He's my client, sir, and he must pay. 
 This is my tribute : custom is not more truly 
 paid in the Sound of Deumaik. 
 
 EiUer Second Client 
 
 Sec. Client. Good sir, be careful of my business. 
 
 Pett. Your declamtion's drawn, sir. I'll drink 
 to you. 
 
 •Sff. Client. I cannot drink this morning ; but 
 there's njouey for a pottle of wiiio. 
 
 Pctt. O good sir I 
 
 Sec. Client. I have done, sir. — Morrow, gentle- 
 men. [Kj-it. 
 
 Comp. We shall drink good cheap. Master 
 Pettifog. 
 
 J'ett. An wo sat lioro long, you'd say so. I 
 liavo sat hero in this tavern but one half-hour, 
 drunk but three jiints of wine, and what witli 
 the offering of my clients in that short time, I 
 
SCENB 1. 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 307 
 
 have got nine shillings clear, and paid all the 
 reckoning. 
 
 Lion. Almost a counsellor's fee. 
 
 Pett. And a great one, as the world goes in 
 Guildhall ; for now our young clerks share with 
 'em, to help 'em to clients. 
 
 Comp. I don't think but that the cucking-stool 
 is an enemy to a number of brabbles that would 
 else be determined by law. 
 
 Pett, 'Tis so, indeed, sir. My client that came 
 in now sues his neighbour for kicking his dog, 
 and using the defamatory speeches, " Come out, 
 cuckold's cur ! " 
 
 Lion. And what shall you recover upon this 
 speech ] 
 
 Pett. In Guildhall,* I assure you : the other 
 that came in was an informer, a precious knave. 
 
 Comp. Will not the ballad of Flood,+ that was 
 pressed, make them leave their knavery 1 
 
 Pett. I'll tell you how he was served : this 
 informer comes into TurnbuU-sti'eet to a 
 victualling-house,! and there falls in league with 
 a wench, — 
 
 Comp. A tweak or bronstrops : I leai'ned that 
 name in a play.§ 
 
 Pett. Had, belike, some private dealings with 
 her, and there got a goose. || 
 
 Comp. I would he had got two : I cannot away 
 with II an informer. 
 
 Pett. Now, sir, this fellow, in revenge of this, 
 
 * In Guildhall] Something seems wanting here. 
 
 t the ballad of Flood] This ballad, I believe, has not 
 come down to us, nor do I remember to have seen any 
 other allusion to it. Several gentlemen very conversant 
 with ballad literature had never heard of it till I men- 
 tioned it to them ; and the Rev. J. Lodge most obligingly 
 sought for it in the Pepysian Collection, at Cambridge, 
 without success. 
 
 I into Turnbull-street to a victualling-house] Turnbull- 
 street (more properly called Turnmill-street) was a noted 
 haunt of harlots, between Clerkenwell-Green and Cow- 
 cross : brothels were often kept under pretence of their 
 being victualling-houses or taverns. 
 
 § A tweak; or bronstrops : I learned that name in a play] 
 Tweak and bronstrops were cant terms for a prostitute, 
 employed by the Roarers of the time, as we learn from 
 several passages of Middleton and Rowley's Fair Quarrel, 
 the play to which, in all probability, our text alludes : but 
 in the following passage of that curious di-ama a dis- 
 tinction is made between the signification of the two 
 words, tweak being used for harlot, and bronstrops for 
 bawd; "Now for thee, little fucus, mayst thou first 
 serve out thy time as a tweak, and then become a bron- 
 strops, as she is! " — Middleton's Tforks, iii. 531, ed. Dyce. 
 The first ed. of the Fair Quarrel, 1617, does not contain 
 the passage just quoted. 
 
 II a goose] i.e. a Winchester goose ( — see Pettifog's next 
 speech — ) which means a venereal swelling : the public 
 stews were under the control of the Bishop of Winchester. 
 If away with] i. e. endure. 
 
 informs against the bawd that kept the house 
 that she used cans in her hoiise : but the cunniug 
 jade comes me into the court, and there deposes 
 that she gave him true Winchester measure. 
 
 Comp, Marry, I thank her with all my heart 
 for't. 
 
 Re-enter Drawer. 
 
 Drawer. Here's a gentleman, one Justice 
 Woodroff, inquires for Master Franckford. 
 
 Franck, 0, my brother, and the other com- 
 promiser, come to take up the business. 
 
 Enter Counsellor and Woodroff. 
 
 ]Vood. We have conferr'd and labour'd for 
 your peace, 
 Unless your stubbornness prohibit it ; 
 And be assur'd, as we can determine it. 
 The law will end, for we have sought the cases. 
 
 Comp. If the child fall to my share, I am 
 content to end upon any conditions : the law 
 shall run on head-long else. 
 
 Franch, Your purse must run by like a foot- 
 man, then. 
 
 Comp. My purse shall run open-mouthedatthee. 
 
 Coitn. My friend, be calm: you shall hear the 
 reasons. 
 I have stood up for you, pleaded your cause. 
 But am overthrown ; yet no further yielded 
 Than your own pleasure : you may go on in law. 
 If you refuse our censure.* 
 
 Comp. I will yield to nothing but my child. 
 
 Coun. 'Tis, then, as vain in us to seek your 
 peace : 
 Yet take the reasons with you. This gentleman 
 First speaks, a justice, to me ; and observe it, 
 A child that's base and illegitimate born. 
 The father found, who (if the need require it) 
 Secures the charge and damage of the parish 
 But the father? who charg'd with education 
 But the father ? then, by clear consequence, 
 He ought, for what he pays for, to enjoy. 
 Come to the strength of reason, upon which 
 The law is grounded : the earth brings forth. 
 This ground or that, her crop of wheat or rye : 
 Whether shall the seedsman enjoy the sheaf. 
 Or leave it to the earth that brought it forth ? 
 The summer tree brings forth her natural fruit, 
 Spreads her large ai'ms : who but the lord of it 
 Shall pluck [the] apples, or command the lops 1 
 Or shall they sink into the root again 1 
 'Tis still most clear upon the father's part. 
 
 Comp. All this law I deny, and will be mine 
 own lawyer. Is not the earth our mother 1 and 
 
 * censure] i. e. judgment, opinion. 
 
308 
 
 A CURE FUR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 shall not the earth have all her children again? I 
 would see that law durst keep any of us buck ; 
 she'll have lawyers and all first, tliough they be- 
 none of herbcBt children : my wife is the mother : 
 and so much fur the civil law. Now I come 
 again ; and you're gone at the common law. 
 Suppose this is my ground : I keep a sow upon it, 
 as it might be my wife ; you keep a boar, as it 
 might bo my iidver.s;iry lioro ; your boar comes 
 foaming int" my ground, jumbles with my sow, 
 and wallows in her mire; my sow cries '-Weke," 
 as if «ho had i>ig8 in her belly : — who shall keep 
 those pigs ] he the boar, or she the sow ? 
 
 Wood. Past other ultenition, I am chang'd ; 
 The law is on the mother's part. 
 
 CouH. For me, I am strong in your opinion. 
 I nover knew my judgment err so far ; 
 I *-as coufinu'd upon the other part, 
 And now am flat against it. 
 
 Wuod. Sir, you nmst yield ; 
 Believe it, there's no law can relieve you. 
 
 Pranck. I found it in myself. — Well, sir, 
 Tlje child's your wife's, I'll strive no further in it ; 
 And being so near unto agreement. 
 Lot UM go quite through to't: forgive my fault, 
 And I forgive my chargcH, nor will I 
 Take buck the inbcritance I made unto it. 
 
 Com/). Nay, there you shall find mo kind too : 
 I liavo a {Kittle of claret and a capon to supper 
 fur jou ; but no more muttuu fur you, not a bit- 
 
 Ray- Ye«, a shoulder, and we'll bo there too ; 
 or a leg opened with vcuison-sauce. 
 
 Oump. No legs opened, by y..ur leave, nor no 
 ■ucb MUOO. 
 
 Wood. Well, brother and neighbour, I am ghul 
 you nru fiiunds. 
 
 Omnta. All, all joy at it. 
 
 \KitHKi Woiu.iuirr, KitAMi-Kroiin, Li'cs, and Lawyors. 
 
 Comp. Ur»e, come ki-w, Urse; all friends. 
 
 Haif.* SUy, sir, one lldii« I would lulviso you ; 
 'tis oouiiMil worlli a ft-o, though I be no lawyer ; 
 'tis |<hy»lt" indvod, and cures cuekuMry, to keep 
 that spiioful brauti out of your foruhoad, that 
 It kliall not dare to mutt or look out at any 
 window to you; 'lU Utt«r than an onion to a 
 «ro«i wound i' the left iiand made by fire, it t^ikes 
 out acar an<i all. 
 
 Cr,mp. Thw woro a rare roceipt ; I'll content 
 jro« for your akilL 
 
 A«j>. Mako horo u ibt divorce between your- 
 *«lve«, 
 
 »• jrou no hiuband, nor Ut her bo no wifo : 
 • Tlik t^m*^ ra^U Uk. tUaak ««im> c>mi|.l«.l. 
 
 Within two hours you may salute again. 
 
 Woo, and wed a-fresh ; and then the cuckold's 
 
 blotted. 
 Thi.s medicine is approv'd 1 
 
 Cump. Excellent; and I thank you. — Urse, I 
 renounce thee, and I renounce myself from thee ; 
 thou art a widow, Urse. I will go hang myself 
 two hours, and so long thou shalt drown thyself : 
 ' then will we meet again in the pease-field by 
 I Bishop's-Hall,* and, as the swads and the coda 
 Khali instruct us, we'll talk of a new matter. 
 Ltsc I will be ruled : fare you well, sir. 
 I Comp. Farewell, widow; remember time and 
 I place : change your clothes too, do ye hear, 
 widow? [Exit Urse.] Sir, I am beholdiug to 
 ' your good counsel. 
 
 Raij. But you'll not follow your own so foi-, I 
 I hope ; you said you'd hang yourself. 
 
 Comp. No, I have devised a better way ; I will 
 go drink myself dead for an hour : then when I 
 awoke again, I am a fresh new man, and so I go 
 a-wooing. 
 
 Kay. That's handsome, and I'll lend thee a 
 dagger. 
 
 Comp. For the long weapon lot me alone, then. 
 
 [Ejccunt. 
 
 SCENE Il.t 
 Enter Lessis'guam and Clare. 
 
 Clare. sir, are you returu'd ? I do expect 
 To hear strange news now. 
 
 Le^. I have none to tell you ; 
 I am only to relate I have done ill 
 At a woman's bidding ; that's, I hope, no news. 
 Vet wherefore do I call that ill, begets 
 My absolute happiness ? You now are mine ; 
 I niUHt enjoy you solely. 
 
 Clare. By what wairant > 
 
 L<ss. By your own condition. I have been ut 
 Calais, 
 Perforni'il your will, drawn my rovcntioful sword. 
 Ami sliiin my nei\rostand best friend i* the world 
 I had for your sake. 
 
 Clare. Slain your friend for my sake ? 
 
 LeM. A most sad truth. 
 
 Clare. And your best friend! 
 
 Leu. My ehiefest. 
 
 Clare. Thou of all men you are most misorable . 
 
 • Ihf ,,f„^M,t bi/ IUt),oi>'t-UaU\ '•1I1ii1i.>|.'m Hull. iiLout 
 tt Mimrlor of n iiillu lo tho oimt of HotliimlGrocu. (liitcly 
 Ukoii(l<iwu,)la wil.l to Imve »>ooii tlio |miIiu'o of HlBliop 
 Uuuiior. Ilanoo lUinHrr'i Fitldt a.y>i|iiliig."— Ciinnliitf- 
 Imm'n lltiHiUMtok i\f hituUm, mill " llfltnialUrem " 
 
 t ."i'TH* //.J A r>Kini 111 Woo<ln>fl''ii house. 
 
A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 J09 
 
 Nor have you aught further'd your suit in this, 
 Though I enjoin'd you to't ; for I had thought 
 That I had been the best esteemed friend 
 You had i'the world. 
 
 Less. Te did not wish, I hope, 
 That I should have murder'd you ? 
 
 Clare. You shall perceive more 
 Of that hereafter : but I pray, sir, tell me, — 
 For I do freeze with expectation of it. 
 It chills my heart with horror till I know 
 What friend's blood you have sacrific'd to your 
 
 fury 
 And to my fatal sport, — this bloody riddle ; 
 Who is it you have slain ? 
 
 Less. Bonvile, the bridegroom. 
 
 Clare. Say? 0, you have struck him dead 
 thorough my heart ! 
 In being true to me you have prov'd in this 
 The falsest traitor. 0, I am lost for ever ! 
 Yet, wherefore am I losti rather recover'd 
 From a deadly witchcraft ; and upon his grave 
 I will not gather rue but violets 
 To bless my wedding-strewings. Good sir, tell me 
 Are you certain he is dead ? 
 
 Less. Never, never 
 To be recover'd. 
 
 Clare. Why, now, sir, I do love you 
 With an entu-e heart. I could dance methinks : 
 Never did wine or music stir in woman 
 A sweeter touch of mirth. I will man-y you, 
 Instantly man-y you. 
 
 Less, [aside.'] This woman has strange changes. 
 — You are ta'en 
 Strangely with his death. 
 
 Cla/re. I'll give the reason 
 I have to be thus ecstasied with joy : 
 Know, sir, that you have slain my dearest friend 
 And fatalest enemy. 
 
 Less. Most strange ! 
 
 Clare. 'Tis true : 
 You have ta'en a mass of lead from off my heart 
 For ever would liave sunk it in despair. 
 When you beheld me yesterday, I stood 
 As if a merchant walking on the downs 
 Should see some goodly vessel of his own 
 Sunk 'fore his face i'the harbour ; and my heai-t 
 Retain'd no more heat than a man that toils 
 And vainly labours to put out the flames 
 That burn his house to the bottom. I will tell 
 
 you 
 A strange concealment, sir, and till this minute 
 Never reveal'd, and I will tell it now 
 Smiling, and not blushing. I did love that Bon- 
 vile, 
 
 Not as I ought, but as a woman might, — 
 That's beyond reason : I did dote upon him, 
 Though he ne'er knew oft ; and beholding him 
 Before my face wedded unto another. 
 And all my interest in him forfeited, 
 I fell into despaLi" ; and at that instant 
 You urging your suit to me, and I thinking 
 That I had been your only friend i'the world, 
 I heartily did wish you would have kill'd 
 That friend yourself, to have ended all my sorrow, 
 And had prepar'd it, that unwittingly 
 You should have done't by poison. 
 
 Less. Strange amazement ! 
 
 Clare. The effects of a strange love. 
 
 Less. 'Tis a dream, sure. 
 
 Clare. No, 'tis real, sir, believe it. 
 
 Less. Would it were not ! 
 
 Clare. What, sir ! you have done bravely : 'tis 
 youi' mistress 
 That tells you you have done so. 
 
 Less. But my conscience 
 Is of counsel 'gainst you, and pleads otherwise. 
 Virtue in her past actions glories still. 
 But vice throws loathed looks on former ill. 
 But did you love this Bonvile 1 
 
 Clare. Strangely, su- ; 
 Almost to a degree of madness. 
 
 Less, [aside.] Trust a woman ! 
 Never, henceforward : I will rather trust 
 The winds which Lapland witches sell to men. 
 All that they have is feign'd, their teeth, their 
 
 hair, 
 Their blushes, nay, their'conscience too is feign'd : 
 Let 'em paint, load themselves with cloth of 
 
 tissue, 
 They cannot yet hide woman ; that will appear 
 And disgrace all. The necessity of my fate ! 
 Certain this woman has bewitch'd me here. 
 For I cannot choose but love her. O, how fatal 
 This might have prov'd ! I would it had for me ! 
 It would not grieve me though my sword had 
 
 split 
 His heart in sunder ; I had then destroy'd 
 One that may prove my rival. 0, but then 
 What had my horror been, my guilt of conscience ! 
 I know some do ill at women's bidding 
 I' the dog-days, and repent all the winter after : 
 No, I account it treble happiness 
 That Bonvile lives ; but 'tis my chiefest glory 
 That our friendship is divided. 
 
 Clare. Noble friend, 
 Why do you talk to youi'self ? 
 
 Less. Should you do so. 
 You'd talk to an ill woman. Fare you well. 
 
310 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 For ever fare you weU.-[il»ide] I wiU do 
 
 somewhat 
 To make as fiiUl breach and difference 
 In Bonvilo's love aa mine : I am fix'd in't : 
 My melancholy and the devil shall fashion 't 
 Clare. You will not leave me thuB T 
 Leu. Leave you for ever : 
 And may my friend's blood, whom you lov'd so 
 
 dearly, 
 For over Ho imposthum'd in your breast. 
 And i' the end choke you ! Woman's cruelty 
 ThiB black and fatal thread hath ever spun ; 
 It UHUt undo, or else it is undone. \^Exil. 
 
 Clare. I am every way lost, and no means to 
 raifio mo 
 But blcto'd repentance. Wiiat two unvalu'd 
 
 jewels 
 Am I at once depriv'd of ! Now I suffer 
 Deservedly. There's no prosperity settled : 
 Fortune plays ever with our good or ill, 
 Like cross and pile,* and tunis up which she will. 
 
 Enter Bonvile. 
 Bon, Friend ! 
 
 Clare. O, you are the welcom'st under heaven ! 
 Lessinghaui did but fright me : yet I fear 
 That you arc hurt to danger. 
 Bun. Not a scratch. 
 Qare. Indeed, you look exceeding well, me- 
 
 thinks. 
 Boh. I have l>een seasick lately, and wc count 
 That excellent phyhic. How does my Annabel \ 
 
 Clare. Ax well, nir, aM the foiW of such a loss 
 A* your ei*t«)em<-<l self will sufftr her. 
 
 HoH. lluve you seen Lesitingham since he re- 
 turo'd 1 
 I Ctart. He departed! henco but now, and It-ft 
 with me 
 A r«|Mirt had almoitt kill'd me. 
 I /ton. What wa« ihatt 
 
 Clart. That ho had kill'd yoii. 
 AuM. Ko ha ban. 
 Clar^, You mock mo. 
 
 Jkm. Ho has kill'd me for a friend, for ever 
 •ilenc'd 
 All sniiry 1>«<tMr««rii «ih. Y<>ii niay now 
 ' <ao« him, fur ho hrnt fuinil'd 
 
 c.f !h.il loltiT. \lil,;t Irlter. 
 
 D na Until or Iml, U k tfnino 
 who j.Uv (» (.V ».«»(«;. ,||, „ 
 
 I* * *■**— ii. p. aw, ad. Uio. 
 
 And had you known this, which I meant to have 
 sent you [Slie gives him another. 
 
 An hour fore you were married to your wife. 
 The riddle had been constru'd. 
 Bon, Strange ! this expresses 
 That you did love me. 
 
 Clare. With a violent affection. 
 Bon. Violent, indeed ; for it seems it was your 
 purpose 
 To have ended it in violence on your friend : 
 The unfortunate Lessingham unwittingly 
 Should have been the executioner. 
 Clare, 'Tis true. 
 Bon, And do you love me still ? 
 Clare. I may easily 
 Confess it, since my extremity is such 
 That I must needs speak or die. 
 
 Bun. And you would enjoy me, 
 Though I am married ? 
 
 Clare. No, indeed, not I, sir : 
 You are to sleep with a sweet bed-fellow 
 Would knit the brow at that. 
 
 Bon. Come, come, a woman's telling truth 
 Makes amends for her playing fulse : you would 
 enjoy me ! 
 Clare. If you were a bachelor or widower, 
 .\fore all the great ones living. 
 
 Bon. But 'tis impossible 
 To give you present satisfaction ; for 
 My wife is young and healthful, and I like 
 The summer and the harvest of our love. 
 Which yet I have not tasted of, so well 
 That, an you'll credit mc, for me her days 
 Shall ne'er be shorteu'd. Let your reason, there- 
 fore. 
 Turn you another way, and c.'\ll to mind, 
 With best observance, the accomplish'd gi-nii s 
 Of that brave gentleman whom late you .•*oiu 
 To luH destruction ; a man so every wiiy 
 Deserving, no one action of his 
 In all his life-time e'er degraded him 
 From the honour ho was born to. Think how 
 
 observant 
 He'll prove to you in nobler request that so 
 Obey'd you in a bad one ; and remember 
 That aforo yuu engag'd him to an act 
 Of horror, to the killing of his friend, 
 Ho bore his steerage true in every part, 
 Led by the conipa.se of a noble heart. 
 
 Clare. Why do you praise him thus? You .^aid 
 but now 
 Ho was uttorly lost to you; now't appears 
 You are friends, else you'<l not deliver of him 
 Such » worthy CDUiniondation. 
 
SCENE III. 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 311 
 
 Bon. You mistake, 
 Utterly mistake that I am friends with him 
 In speaking this good of him. To what purpose 
 Do I praise him 1 only to this fatal end, 
 That you might fall in love and league with him : 
 And what worse office can I do i' the world 
 Unto my enemy than to endeavour 
 By all means possible to marry him 
 Unto a whore ] and there, I think, she stands. 
 
 Clare. Is whore a name to be belov'd ? if not, 
 What reason have I ever to love that man 
 Puts it upon me falsely 1 You have wrought 
 A strange alteration in me : were I a man, 
 I would drive you with my sword into the field, 
 And there put my wrong to silence. Go, you're 
 
 not worthy 
 To be a woman's friend in the least part 
 That concerns honourable reputation ; 
 For you are a liar. 
 
 Bon. I will love you now 
 "With a noble observance, if you will continue 
 This hate unto me : gather all those graces, 
 From whence you have fall'n, yonder, where you 
 
 have left 'em 
 In Lessingham, he that must be your husband ; 
 And though henceforth I cease to be his friend, 
 I will appear his noblest enemy. 
 And work reconcilement 'tween you. 
 
 Clare. No, you shall not ; 
 You shall not marry him to a strumpet : for tliat 
 
 word 
 I shall ever hate you. 
 
 Bon. And for that one deed 
 I shall ever love you. Come, convert your 
 
 thoughts 
 To him that best deserves 'em, Lessingham. 
 It is most certain you have done him wrong ; 
 But your repentance and compassion now 
 May make amends : disperse this melancholy, 
 And on that turn of Fortune's wheel depend, 
 When all calamities will mend or end. [Exev/nt. 
 
 SCENE III.* 
 
 Enter Compass, Raymond, Eustace, Lionel, and Geover. 
 
 Comp. Gentlemen, as you have been witness to 
 our divorce, you shall now be evidence to our 
 next meeting, which I look for every minute, if 
 you please, gentlemen. 
 
 Ray. We came for the same purpose, man. 
 
 Comp. I do think you'll see me come off with 
 
 Scene JII.1 Bonner's Fields. See note *, p. 308. 
 
 as smooth a forehead, make my wife as honest a 
 woman once more as a man sometimes would 
 desire, I mean of her rank, and a teeming woman 
 as she has been. Nay, surely I do think to make 
 the child as lawful a child too as a couple of un- 
 married people can beget, and let it be begotten 
 when the father is beyond sea, as this was : do 
 but note. 
 
 Bust. 'Tis that we wait for. 
 
 Comp. You have waited the good hour : see, 
 she comes. A little room, I beseech you, silence 
 and observation. 
 
 Ray. All your own, sir. 
 
 Enter Urse. 
 
 Comp. Good morrow, fair maid. 
 
 Urse. Mistaken in both, sii', neither fair nor maid. 
 
 Comp. No ? a married woman ? 
 
 Urse. That's it I was, sir ; a poor widow now. 
 
 Comp. A widow! Nay, then I must make a 
 little bold with you : 'tis akin to mine own case ; 
 I am a wifeless husband too. How long have 
 you been a widow, pray 1 nay, do not weep. 
 
 Urse. I cannot choose, to think the loss I had. 
 
 Comp. He was an honest man to thee it seems. 
 
 Urse. Honest, quoth 'a, ! 
 
 Comp. By my feck, and those are great losses. 
 An honest man is not to be found in every hole 
 nor every street : if I took a whole parish in 
 sometimes, 
 I might say true. 
 For stinking mackarel may be cried for new. 
 
 Ray. Somewhat sententious. 
 
 Bust. 0, silence was an article enjoin' d. 
 
 Comp. And how long is it since you lost your 
 honest husband ? 
 
 Urse. 0, the memory is too fresh, and your 
 sight makes my sorrow double. 
 
 Comp. My sight ! why, was he like me ? 
 
 Urse. Your left hand to your right is not more 
 like. 
 
 Comp. Nay, then I cannot blame thee to weep : 
 an honest man, I warrant him, and thou hadst a 
 great loss of him. Such a proportion, so limbed, 
 so coloured, so fed ? 
 
 Ray. Yes, faith, and so taught too. 
 
 Bust. Nay, will you break the law ? 
 
 Urse. Twins were never liker. 
 
 Comp. Well, I love him the better, whatsoever 
 is become of him. And how many children did 
 he leave thee at his departure ? 
 
 Urse. Only one, sir. 
 
 Comp. A boy or a girl 1 
 
 Urse. A boy, sir. 
 
312 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 ACT n-. 
 
 Comp. Just mine own case atill : my wife, rest 
 her Boul ! left mo a boy too. A chopping boy, I 
 warrant ? 
 
 Vrse. Ye«, if you call 'cm so. 
 Comp. Ay, mine ia a cliopping boy : I mean to 
 make either a cook or a butcher of him, for tlioso 
 are your chopping boys. And what profession 
 was your husband of] 
 
 I'rat. He went to sea, sir, and there got his 
 
 living. 
 Comp, Mine own faculty too. And you can 
 like a man of that profession wull ? 
 
 Vnc For his sweet sake whom I so dearly 
 lov'd. 
 More dearly lost, I mtist think well of it. 
 
 Comp. Must you f I do think, then, tliou must 
 Tenture to sea onco again, if thou'lt be ruled 
 by uie. 
 
 Une. O, sir, but there's one thing more 
 burdensome 
 To us than most of others' wives, which moves 
 
 mo 
 A little to distaste it : long time wo endure 
 The absence of our husbands, sometimes many 
 
 years; 
 And then if any slip in woman be, — 
 A« long vacations may make lawyers hungry. 
 And tradesmen cheaper j)caiiyworths afford. 
 Than othorwiue they wouhl, for ready coin, — 
 S , I 1m fly out, and we poor souls [are] branded 
 \S ui vMiuton living and incontinency ; 
 When, alaji ! consider, can we do withal ? * 
 
 Comp. They ore fouls, and not sailors, that do 
 not con«idor that : I'm sure your husband was 
 not of that mind, if he were like inc. 
 
 Urtt. No, indeed, ho would bear kind and 
 
 ' -'!r. 
 
 /. Ho WM tho wiser. Alack, your land and 
 if< nil «ttU>r men never undei-stand what wondere 
 aro «!oiio at im«: yet tlioy may oIihitvo ashore that 
 •« d tli« cock, kill him, and sho 
 
 ti ABrilii. 
 
 / ..-.. Ti.aia Very true, indeed. 
 «■'■:,■• An! i"> iiioy woiiidii, why not? may not 
 I \\\tt>o ohildrcii at onco f one 
 10 another, you know. 
 > Uiu diacmllou uty nwout hu»ban<l 
 
 \ .1 iiLifw uid in.ire re»««mb|r liini. 
 
 ( ... II ••>■'< 'I -> know what lh.li.:>! mo. K.no 
 ''' "niaelvM do copulate and 
 
 '*■ •"••• tho old World there 
 
 were but four in all, as nor*, east, sou', and west : 
 these dwelt far from one another, yet by meeting 
 they have engendered nor'-east, sou'-cast, sou'-west, 
 nor'-west, — then they were eight ; of them were 
 begotten nor'-nor'-east, nor'-nor'-wcst, sou'-sou'- 
 ea-st, sou'-sou'-west, and those two sou's were 
 Bou'-east' and sou'-west' daughtere; and indeed, 
 there is a family now of thirty-two of 'em, that 
 they have filled every corner of the world : and 
 yet for all this, you see these bawdy bellows- 
 menders, when they come ashore, will be offering 
 to take up women's coats in the street. 
 
 Vrse. Still my husband's discretion. 
 
 Comp. So I say, if your landmen did understand 
 that we send winds from sea, to do our commenda- 
 tions to our wives, thej- would not blame you as 
 they do. 
 
 Urse. We cannot help it. 
 
 Comp. But you shall help it. Can you love me, 
 widow ? 
 
 Urse. If I durst confess what I do think, sir, 
 I know what I would say. 
 
 Comp. Durst confess ! Why, whom do you fear? 
 here's none but honest gentlemen, my friends: let 
 them hear, and never blush for't. 
 
 Urse. I shall be thought too weak, to yield at 
 first. 
 
 Ray. Tush, that's niceness: come, wc heard all 
 the rest : 
 The first true stroke of love sinks the deepest ; 
 If you love him, say so. 
 
 Comp. I have a boy of mine own ; I tell you 
 that aforchand : you shall not need to fear me 
 that way. 
 
 Urse. Then I do love him. 
 
 Comp. So, hero will be man and wife to-morrow, 
 then : what though wo meet stnmgers, we may 
 love one another ne'er the worse for that — Gen- 
 tlemen, I invito you all to my wedding. 
 
 Omiies. Wo'll all attend it. 
 
 Comp. Did not I toll you I would fetch it off 
 fairl Let any man lay a cuckold to my chai-ge, if 
 ho dares, now. 
 
 Jiaif. 'Tis shmder, whoever does it. 
 
 Comp. Nay, it will como to potty-lossory • at 
 least, and witliout compass of tho general pardon 
 too. or I'll bring hini to a foul shoot, if he has 
 n.«Vr a clean one : or let n>o hear him that will 
 Hiiy I lun not father to tho chiM I begot. 
 
 £uil. None will adventure any of those. 
 
 • ;Kf(|f./n»*-ry) S,. in n, hutrr l)y 8liiii|>liniii ; "you 
 cmiiiot Iw huiijjo.l f.ir (, 'Hm l„ii ,>.tiil<x>ff,>i ..t iiont " 
 MIgDS. o<l. l(.l 
 
SCENE I. 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 313 
 
 Corri]). Or that my wife that shall be is not as 
 honest a woman as some other men's wives are. 
 
 Ray. No question of that. 
 
 Comjh How fine and sleek my brows are now ! 
 
 Etost. Ay, when you are married they'll come 
 to themselves again. 
 
 Conip. You may call me bridegroom, if you 
 please, now, for the guests are bidden. 
 Omnes. Good master bridegroom ! 
 Comp. Come, widow, then : ere the nest ebb and 
 tide. 
 If I be bridegroom, thou shalt be the bride. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 SCENE I.* 
 
 Siittr RocHFiELD and Annabel. 
 
 Eoch. Believe me, I was never more ambitious, 
 Or covetous, if I may call it so ; 
 Of any fortune greater than this one. 
 But to behold his face. 
 
 Anna. And now's the time; 
 For from a much-fear'd danger, as I heard, 
 He's late come over. 
 
 Roch. And not seen you yet ! 
 'Tis some unkindness. 
 
 Anna. You may think it so ; 
 But for my part, sir, I account it none. 
 What know I but some business of import 
 And weighty consequence, more near to him 
 Than any formal compliment to me, 
 May for a time detain him ? I presume 
 No jealousy can be aspers'd on him 
 For which he cannot well apology. 
 
 Roch. You are a creature every way complete. 
 As good a wife as woman ; for whose sake, 
 As I in duty am endear'd to you. 
 So shall I owe him service. 
 
 Enter Lessingham. 
 Less. \aside\ The ways to love and crowns lie 
 both thi'ough blood, 
 For in 'em both all lets must be remov'd : 
 It could be styl'd no tx'ue ambition else. 
 I am grown big with project : — project, said I ^ 
 Eather with sudden mischief; which, without 
 A speedy birth, fills me with painful throes. 
 And I am now in labour. — Thanks, occasion. 
 That giv'st me a fit ground to work upon ! 
 It should be Rochfield, one since our departure 
 It seems engrafted in this family ; 
 Indeed, the house's minion, since, from the lord 
 To the lowest groom, all with unite consent 
 Speak him so largely ; nor, as it appears 
 
 * Seem 7.] A hall in ■Woodroffa house. 
 
 By this their private conference, is he grown 
 Least in the bride's opinion,— a foundation 
 On which I will erect a brave revenge. 
 
 Anna. Sir, what kind offices lie in your way 
 To do for him, I shall be thankful for. 
 And reckon them mine own. 
 
 Roch. In acknowledgement, 
 I kiss your hand : so, with a gratitude 
 Never to be forgot, I take my leave. 
 
 Anna. I mine of you, with hourly expectation 
 Of a long-look' d-for husband. 
 
 Roch. May it thrive 
 According to your wishes ! [Exit Annabel. 
 
 Less, [aside] Now's my turn. — 
 Without ofieuce, sir, may I beg your name ] 
 Roch. 'Tis that I never yet denied to any, 
 Nor will to you that seem a gentleman ; 
 'Tis Rochfield. 
 
 Less. Rochfield ! You are, then, the man 
 Whose nobleness, virtue, valour, and good parts 
 Have voic'd you loud: Dover, and Sandwich, 
 
 Margate, 
 And all the coast is full of you : 
 But more, as an eye-witness of all these. 
 And with most truth, the master of this house 
 Hath given them large expressions. 
 
 Roch. Therein his love 
 Exceeded much my merit. 
 
 Less. That's your modesty. 
 Now I, as one that goodness love in all men, 
 And honouring that which is but found iu few. 
 Desire to know you better. 
 Roch, Pray, your name ] 
 Less. Lessingham. 
 Roch. A friend to Master Bonvile? 
 Less, In the number 
 Of those which he esteems most dear to him 
 He reckons me not last. 
 Roch. So I have heard. 
 
 Less. Sir, you have cause to bless the lucky 
 planet 
 
314 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 Beneath which you were born ; 'twas a bright star 
 And then shin'd clear upon yo»i : for a« you 
 Are every way well-partod, so I hold you 
 In all designa inark'd to be fortunate. 
 
 Roch. Pray, do not HtrctcL your love to flattery ; 
 T may call it, then, in question : grow, I pray you, 
 To tome particulars. 
 
 LfM. I have observ'd 
 But late your {tartini; witli the virgin bride. 
 And therein hoiuo afluctiou. 
 
 Jtoch. How ! 
 
 Lfu. With pardon, — 
 In thia I still applaud your happiness. 
 And pnuM the blessed influence of your stars: 
 For how can it bo ]K>8Hible that she, 
 Unkindly left u[>on the bridal day,* 
 And disappointed of those nuptial sweets 
 That night expected, but should take the occasion 
 80 fairly offer'd ? nay, and stand excus'd, 
 As well in deteittation of a scorn 
 Scarce in a husband heard of, as selecting 
 A gentleman in all things so complete 
 To do her those neglected offices 
 Her youth and beauty justly challcngeth ] 
 
 Jtoek. [aside] Some plot to wrong the bride ; and 
 I now 
 Will marry craft with cunning : if he'll bite, 
 m pre him lino to play on. — Were't your ca.sc. 
 You being young aa 1 am, would you iutoruiit 
 80 (air and aweet occatiion ? 
 Y»t,t nii«C4)nceive mo not, I do entreat you. 
 To Uiink I can b« uf that easy wit, 
 Or of that malice to defame a la-ly, 
 Were she no kind aa tu expose herself; 
 Nor ia she such a creature. 
 
 l*$$. [asidt] On this foundation 
 I can buihi higher stilL— Sir, I bclievet. 
 I bear you two call coiuius : coim-s your kindred 
 IJy tha Wotxlruflji or the Honvilus ( 
 
 Jioek. From neither; 'Hh a wortl of courtesy 
 LaU iiitercliang'd U.twixt us; otherwise 
 We are furrij^n na Iwn Hlnuigen. 
 
 />fj<. [tutd<\ Bi'tUT Dtill. 
 
 JUkA. I would not have you grow too inward J 
 witli ni« 
 ''p f. •.. »t„M a knowI«lK'e : yrt to satisfy you, 
 •Ml- kind loo to drlight my»elf, 
 I r%r«\oU and ttio oarcanet f she wears 
 MiM 91** ua oDoa. 
 
 '*"'*' " ' k1*«» U»» UmI nvo line* of ihu 
 
 4 «M«- 
 
 LesM. They were the Erst and special tokens 
 pass'd 
 Betwixt her and her husband. 
 
 Jioch. 'Tin confess'd ; 
 What I have said, I have said. Sir, you have power 
 Perhaps to wrong me or to injure her: 
 This you may do; but, as you are a gentleman, 
 I hope you will do neither. 
 
 Lesi. Trust upon't. [Ejnt Rochfield. 
 
 If I drown, I will sink some along with me ; 
 For of all miseries I hold that chief. 
 Wretched to be when none coparts our grie£ 
 Here's another anvil to work on : I must now 
 Make this my master-piece, for your old foxes 
 Are seldom ta'en in springes. 
 
 Enter Woodroff. 
 
 Wood, ^^hat, my friend ! 
 You are happily return 'd ; and yet I want 
 Somewhat to make it perfect. Where's your friend, 
 My son-in-law ? 
 
 Less. sir! 
 
 Wood. I pray, sir, resolve me; 
 For I do suffer strangely till I know 
 If he bo in safety. 
 
 Lais. Fiu-e you well : 'tis not fit 
 I should relate his danger. 
 
 Wood. I must know't. 
 I have a quarrel to you already 
 For enticing my son-in-law to go over : 
 Tell me quickly, or I shall make it greater. 
 
 Less. Then truth is, he is dangerously wounded. 
 
 Wood. But he's not dead, I hope. 
 
 Less. No, sir, not dead : 
 Yet, sure, your daughter may take liberty 
 To choose imother. 
 
 Wood. Why, that gives him dead. 
 
 Less. Upou my life, sir, no : your sou's in health. 
 As well us I am. 
 
 Wood. Strange ! you deliver riddles. 
 
 Less. I told you he was wounded, and 'tis true; 
 He is wounded in his reputation. 
 I told you likewise, which I am loth to repeat. 
 That your fair daughter might take liberty 
 To tinbrnco another : that's the oonseiiucnco 
 That mnkfs my best friend woundod in hia fame. 
 Tliis JH all I can deliver. 
 
 II'om/. I niUNt have juoro oft; 
 For I do sweat ahvaily, and I'll sweat more : 
 'Tis good, they say, to iuro aihes ; and otho 
 
 sudden 
 lain Horc fn.m head to foot Letmo taste thoworst 
 
 Lfts. Know, sir, if ever there were truth in 
 fitlMohood, 
 
SCENE T. 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 315 
 
 Then 'tis most true your daughter plays most 
 
 false 
 With Bonvile, and hath chose for her favourite 
 The man that now pass'd by me, Rochfield. 
 
 Wood. Say? 
 I would thou hadst spoke this on Calais-sands, 
 And I within my sword and poniard's length 
 Of that false throat of thine I I pray, sir, tell me 
 Of what kin or alliance do you take me 
 To the gentlewoman you late mention'd? 
 
 Less. You are her father. 
 
 Wood. Why, then,, of all men living, do you 
 address 
 This report to me, that ought of all men breathing 
 To have been the last o'the roll, except the 
 
 husband. 
 That should have heard of 't ? 
 
 Less. For her honour, sir, and yours ; 
 That your good counsel may reclaim her. 
 
 Wood. I thank you. 
 
 Less. She has departed,* sir, upon my know- 
 ledge. 
 With jewels and with bracelets, the first pledges 
 And confirmation of the unhappy contract 
 Between hei'self and husband. 
 
 Wood. To whom 1 
 
 Less. To Rochfield. 
 
 Wood. Be not abus'd : but now, 
 Even now, I saw her wear 'em. 
 
 Less. Very likely : 
 'Tis fit, hearing her husband is return'd. 
 That he+ should re-deliver 'em. 
 
 Wood. But pray, sir, tell me. 
 How is it likely she could part with 'em, 
 When they are lock'd about her neck and wrists. 
 And the key with her husband ? 
 
 Less. 0, six-, that's but practice : * 
 She has got a trick to use another key 
 Besides her husband's. 
 
 Wood. Sirrah, you do lie ; 
 And were I to pay down a hundred pounds 
 For every lie given, as men pay twelve-pence, 
 And worthily, for swearing, I would give thee 
 The lie, nay, though it were in the court of honour, 
 So oft, till of the thousands I am worth 
 I had not left a hundred. For is't likely 
 So brave a gentleman as Rochfield is, 
 That did so much at sea to save my life, 
 Should now on land shorten my wretched days 
 In ruining my daughter ? A rank lie ! 
 Have you spread this to any but myself] 
 
 * depaiiedl i. e. parted, 
 t he] The old ed. " she." 
 I practice'\ i. e. artifice. 
 
 Less. I am no intelligencer. 
 
 Wood. Why, then, 'tis yet a secret : 
 And that it may rest so, draw ! I'll take order 
 You shall prate of it no further. 
 
 Less. 0, my sword 
 Is enchanted, sir, and will not out o'the scabbard. 
 I will leave you, sir : yet say not I give ground, 
 For 'tis your own you stand on. 
 
 Enter Bonvile and Clare. 
 [.4sz'c?e.] Clare here with Bonvile ! excellent ! on 
 
 this 
 I have more to work : this goes to Annabel, 
 And it may increase the whirlwiud. [Exit. 
 
 Bon. How now, sir ! 
 Come, I know tHis choler bred in you 
 For the voyage which I took at his entreaty : 
 But I must reconcile you. 
 
 Wood. On my credit. 
 There's no such matter. I will tell you, sir. 
 And I will tell it in laughter, the cause of it 
 Is so poor, so ridiculous, so impossible 
 To be believ'd : ha, ha ! he came even now 
 And told me that one Rochfield, now a guest 
 (And most worthy, sir, to be so) in my house. 
 Is grown exceedingly familiar with 
 My daughter. 
 Bon. Ha! 
 Wood. Your wife ; and that he has had favours 
 
 from her. 
 Bon. Favours ! 
 
 Wood. Love-tokens I did call 'em in my youth ; 
 Lures to which gallants spread their wings, and 
 
 stoop 
 In ladies' bosoms. Nay, he was so false 
 To truth and all good manners, that those jewels 
 You lock'd about her neck, he did protest 
 She had given to Rochfield. Ha ! methinks o'the 
 
 sudden 
 You do change colour. Sir, I would not have you 
 Believe this in least part : my daughter's honest, 
 And my guess * is a noble fellow ; and for this 
 
 * guess] A corruption of guest, not unfrequently used 
 by old writers : 
 
 " Sir, my maisters gesse be none of my copesmates." 
 A pleasant Commodie called Looke about you. 1600, Sig. F 3. 
 " It greatly at my stomacke stickes 
 That all this day we had no gnesse. 
 And have of meate so many a messe." 
 
 The Downfall of Robert, Earl of Huntingdon. 
 (by Chettle), 1601, Sig. H 4. 
 " Guesse will come in, 'tis almost supper-time." 
 Yarington's Two Lamentable Tragedies, 1601, Sig. B 3. 
 "The nuptials being done. 
 To which the king came willingly a guess. 
 Each one repair'd unto their business." 
 
 Chalkhill's Tliealmaand Clearchus, 1683, p. 28. 
 
ni6 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 Slander deliver'd mo by Lcsmngham, 
 I vould have cut hia tbroat. 
 
 Bon. Aa I yocr daughter's, 
 If I find not the jewels 'bout her. 
 
 Clare. Arc you retuni'd 
 With the lulian plague upon you. jealousy ? 
 
 Wood. Suppose that Lcssingham should love 
 my daughter, 
 And thereupon fiuihion your going over, 
 Aa now your jealouxy, tlio stronger way 
 So to divide you, tht-re wi-re a fine crotchet! 
 Do you stagger still? If you continue thus, 
 I TOW you arc not worth a welcome home 
 Neithor frciu licr ii'>r inc.— See, hero slic comes. 
 
 Clare. I have brought you home a jewel. 
 Anna. Wear it youi-self ; 
 For these I wear are fetters, not favours. 
 Clare. I h'ok'd for better welcome. 
 Roch. Nol^le sir, 
 I must woo your better knowledge. 
 
 A/It. dear sir, 
 My wife will bespeak it for you. 
 Both. Ha, your wife ! 
 
 Wuod. Bear with him, sir, he's strangely off 
 o'the hinges. 
 , Jion. \atiiif] The jewels are i'tho right place : 
 I but the JL'Wil 
 
 I Of her heart sticks yonder. — You arc angry with 
 me 
 For my going over. 
 
 Anna. Happily more angij for your coming 
 
 over, 
 /ten. I sent you my will from Dover. 
 ^NNO. Yen, sir. 
 Jhm. Fitch it 
 
 Ammo, I shall, sir, but leave your self will with 
 
 you. [Exit. 
 
 Wood This is fine; the woman will bo mud 
 
 t.M). 
 
 lion. Kir, I would speak with you. 
 ItoeM. And I with you <>f all men living. 
 lion I uiuiil liavo satisfac-lion frum you. 
 ttoek H<r, \t v'r'>ws upon the linio of payment. 
 H'«r ' st, wltnt's timt I I'll have no 
 
 Anmm. Look jrou. thora's the \uxltntt 
 
 (-'' ■ •■ - . , 
 
 1* Lru I jj»»c ii,)uAi fur a««.i, 1 il,cii i„n,lo over 
 
 My land unto you : now I find your love 
 Dead to me, I will alter 't. 
 
 Anna. Use your pleasure. 
 A man may make a garment for the moon, 
 Rather than fit your constancy. 
 
 Wood. How's this ? 
 Alter your will ! 
 
 Jioti. 'Tis in mine own disposing : 
 Certainly I will alter 't. 
 
 Wood. Will you so, my friend ? 
 Why, then, I will alter mine too. 
 I had cstated thee, thou pee\-ish fellow. 
 In forty thousand pounds after my death : 
 I can find another executor. 
 
 Bon. Pray, sir, do. 
 Mine 111 alter without question. 
 
 11 oo(Z. Dost hear me ? 
 An if I change not mine within this two hours. 
 May my executors cozen all my kindred 
 To whom I bequeath legacies ! 
 
 Bon. I am for a lawyer, sir. 
 
 Wood. And I will be with one as soon as 
 thyself. 
 Though thou rid'st post to the devil. [Exit Box. 
 
 Bock. Stay, let me follow and cool him. 
 
 Wood. 0, by no means : 
 You'll put a quarrel upon him for the wrong 
 H' as done my daughter. 
 
 Boch. No, believe it, sir ; 
 He's my wishVl friend. 
 
 Mood. 0, come, 1 know the way oft ; 
 Carry it like a French quaiTol, privately whispi i, 
 Appoint to meet, and cut each other's throats 
 Witli cringes and embraces. I protest 
 I will not suffer you exchange a word 
 Without I overhear 't. 
 
 Jioch. U.se your pleasure. 
 
 [Kxrunt WooPRorr ari</ RocnriELD. 
 
 Clare. You are like to msike lino work now. 
 
 Anna. Nay, yo>i are liko 
 To miiko a finer business oft. 
 
 Clare. I'omo, come, 
 I must solder you together. 
 
 Anna, You! why, I heard 
 A birtl sing lately, you aro the only cause 
 Works the division. 
 
 Clare. Who, as thou ever lov'dst mo? 
 For I long, though I am a maid, for't. 
 
 Anna. LoHHiiighuni. 
 
 Clare. Why, tlii>ii, 1 do protest myself firat 
 fnu>t< 
 Of thi' \vff>iig which ho has put u]nin yo\i both ; 
 Wlii.h, ploiksu you to walk in, I shall nmko good 
 In a nhort relation. Come, I'll bo the clew 
 
A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 317 
 
 To lead you forth this labyrinth, this toil 
 
 Of a suppos'd and causeless jealousy. 
 
 Cankers touch choicest fruit with their infection, 
 
 And fevers seize those of the best complexion. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II.* 
 Enter Woodboff and Kochfieid. 
 
 Wood. Sir, have I not said I love you ? if I have. 
 You may believe 't before an oracle, 
 For there's no trick in't, but the honest sense. 
 
 JRdcfi. Believe it ! that I do, sir. 
 
 Wood. Your love must, then. 
 Be as plain with mine, that they may suit together. 
 I say you must not fight with my son Bonvile. 
 
 Jioch. 'Not fight with him, sir ? 
 
 Wood. No, not fight with him, sir. 
 I grant you may be wrong'd, and I dare swear 
 So is my chUd ; but he is the husband, you know. 
 The woman's lord, and must not always be told 
 Of his faults neither : I say you must not fight. 
 
 Rock. Ill swear it, if you please, su\ 
 
 Wood. And forswear, I know't. 
 Ere you lay ope the secrets of your valour : 
 It is enough for me I saw you whisper, 
 And I know what belongs to 't. 
 
 Roch. To no such end, assure you. 
 
 Wood. I say you cannot fight with him, 
 If you be my friend, for I must use you : 
 Yonder's my foe, and you must be my second. 
 
 Enter Lessisgham. 
 Prepare thee, slanderer, and get another 
 Better than thyself too ; for here's my second, 
 One that will fetch him up, and fii-k him too : — 
 Get your tools : I know the way to Calais-sands, 
 If that be your fence-school: — he'll show you 
 
 tricks, faith ; 
 He'll let blood your calumny : your best guard 
 Will come to a peccavi, I believe. 
 
 Less. Sir, if that be your quarrel, 
 He's a party in it, and must maintain 
 The side with me : from him I collected 
 All those circumstances concern youi* daughter. 
 His own tongue's confession. 
 
 Wood. Who ? from him ? 
 He will belie to do thee a pleasure, then. 
 If he speak any ill upon himself: 
 I know he ne'er could do an injury. 
 
 Boch. So please you, I'll relate it, sir. 
 
 * Seem II.] Before Woodroffs house. 
 
 Enter Bonvile, Annabel, and Clare. 
 Wood. Before her husband, then, — and here 
 he is. 
 In fi-iendly posture with my daughter too : 
 I like that well.- — Son bridegroom and lady bride. 
 If you will hear a man defame himself. 
 For so he must if he say any ill. 
 Then listen. 
 
 Bon. Sir, I have heard this story. 
 And meet with your opinion in his goodness : 
 The repetition will be needless. 
 
 Roch. Your father ha.s not, sir : I will be brief 
 In the delivery. 
 
 Wood. Do, do, then : I long to hear it. 
 Roch. The first acquaiutauce I had with your 
 daughter ' 
 Was on the wedding-eve. 
 
 Wood. So; 'tis not ended yet, methiuks. 
 Rock. I would have robb'd her. 
 Wood. Ah, thief ! 
 
 Roch. That chain and bracelet which she wears 
 upon her. 
 She ransom'd with the full esteem in gold. 
 Which was with you my venture. 
 Wood. Ah, thief again ! 
 
 Roch. For any attempt against her honom-, I vow 
 I had no thought on. 
 
 Wood. An honest thief, faith, yet. 
 Roch. Which she as nobly recompens'd, brought 
 me home. 
 And in her own discretion thought it meet 
 For cover of my shame, to call me cousin. 
 
 Wood. Call a thief cousin ! why, and so she might. 
 For the gold she gave thee she stole from her 
 
 husband ; 
 'Twas all his now : yet 'twas a good girl too. 
 Roch. The rest you know, sir. 
 Wood. Which was worth all the rest, — 
 Thy valour, lad ; but I'll have that in print. 
 Because I can no better utter it. 
 
 Roch. Thus jade* unto my wants, 
 And spurr'd by my necessities, I was going. 
 But by that lady's counsel I was stay'd 
 (For that discourse was our familiarity) : 
 And this you may take for my recantation ; 
 I am no more a thief. 
 
 Wood. A blessing on thy heart ! 
 And this was the fii-st time, I warrant thee, too. 
 Roch. Your charitable censure is not wrong'd 
 
 in that. " 
 Wood. No; I knew 't could be but the first 
 time at most : 
 
 • jade] i. e. jaded. 
 
318 
 
 A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 But for thee, brMvc valour, I hnve in store 
 That thou ahalt nevd to be a thief uo more. 
 
 [•Snf! inujnc vi/Aiii. 
 
 Ha! what's this niUKict 
 
 Hun. It chimes an lo i'a.'iu» to your wedding', sir, 
 If thiii be your bride. 
 
 Leai. Can you forgive me? some wild dit>trac- 
 tions 
 Had overturu'd my own condition, 
 And spilt the goo<liu>8'« you once knew in nie : 
 But I have carefully recover'd it. 
 And overthrown the fury on 't. 
 
 Clart. It waij my cJiu«o 
 That you were so puRscsa'd ; and all these troubles 
 Have from my {tecvish will original : 
 I do re|>ent, though you forgive nie not 
 
 Leu. You have no need for your repentance, 
 then, 
 Which ia due to it : all's now as at first 
 It was wi«h'd to be. 
 
 Wuod. Why, that's well said of all sides. 
 But, soft! this luii.-'ic lias some other meaning: 
 Another we<l<ling towards ! 
 
 Btder CoMPAM, Ravmo!(i>, El-htace, Liosei., GaoyeR, 
 Uiws Mtcwn Pranckfuho and another, LrcE, Nurse, 
 and CbilJ. 
 
 Good B|>eed, good speed I 
 Comp. We thank you, sir. 
 Wood. Stay, stay ; our neighbour Compass, is it 
 
 uotr 
 
 Comp. That was, and may be again to-morrow ; 
 thia day Maatcr Uridcgruom. 
 
 Wood. 0, give you joy ! But, sir, if I be not 
 , uiuttakon, you were married before now : huw 
 ' long i*'t aiuce your wife died ? 
 
 ''"»n;>. KviT ninco yeatenlay, sir. 
 
 !•.>/</ Why. kIio's HCJirro buried yet, tlu-n. 
 
 Comp No, iudoMi : I nietui to dig her grave 
 Mx>n : I haul no leiiiuro yet 
 
 Woofl. And waa not your fair bride married 
 bt'fore 1 
 
 i'rtf Yc», ihilt-ed, »ir. 
 
 H'oo*/, And how long since your huabaud 
 I de|>art«<l I 
 
 I I'rm. Juat when n»y liuabamra wifa .liiul. 
 
 Wood. lUiMu ua, llymi-n* 
 Af« U(H thtvo lM.lb the aaino jMirtica f 
 
 llom. lliMl crriain, air. 
 
 H'.W. Wliat uia^ "Uthia! 
 
 ' ■ "'• ''^''* ^ '" iMig of horUB,- air. 
 
 II uo*/ llo») 
 
 l^m. luke ouuugh ; but thoy may grow nytihi 
 w»%i jrvar. 
 
 Wood. Tliis is a new trick. 
 
 Comp. Yes, sir, because we did not like the old 
 trick. 
 
 Wood- Brother, you are a helper in this design 
 too? 
 
 Prauck. The father to give the bride, sir. 
 
 Comp. And I am his son, sir, and all the 8ui;.s 
 he has ; and this is his grandchild, and my elder 
 brother : you'll think this strange now. 
 
 Wood. Then it seems he begat this before 
 you. 
 
 Comp. Before me ! not so, sir ; I was far enouuli 
 off when 'twas done : yet let me see him dares 
 say, this is not my child and this my father. 
 
 Bon. You cannot see him here, I think, sir. 
 
 Wood. Twice married ! can it hold ? 
 
 Comp. Hold ! it should hold the better, a WL«e 
 man would think, when 'tis tied of two knots. 
 
 Wood. MetLiuks it should rather unloose the 
 fir.st, 
 And between 'em both make up one negative. 
 
 Euat. No, sir; for though it hold on the 
 contrary, 
 Yet two affirmatives make no negative. 
 
 Wood. Cry you mercy, sir. 
 
 Comp. Make what you will, this little negative 
 was my wife's laying, and I affirm it to be mine 
 own. 
 
 Wood. This proves the marriage before sub- 
 stantial, 
 Having this issue. 
 
 Comp. 'Tis mended now, j^ir : for. being double- 
 married, I may now have two cliildron at a birth, 
 if I can get 'em. D' yc think I'll bo tive years 
 about one iis I was before ? 
 
 Euat. The like has been done for the loss of 
 the wedding-ring, 
 And to settle a now peace before disjointed. 
 
 Liun. But this, indeed, sir, wa.s e'<pecially done. 
 To avoid the word of scandal, tliat foul word 
 Which the fatid monologist cannot alter. 
 
 Wood. Cuckoo. 
 
 Comp, What's that ! the nightingale f 
 
 Wood. A night-bird ; 
 Ihuh good miiy do you, sir!* 
 
 I« 
 
 • Muffi good may do y«m, Wr / ) In the flrat edition of 
 the |>reHoi>t ollocUon. 1 printed "Much (pkmI nmy(it)do 
 y<'U, til!" Hut, necorithiK lo our oUl |i|inuie<>l<>f;y, tho 
 " It" waa fro,|iieiitly omittcl In oxprciiHloiKi of thin kind. 
 
 I.ct 1110 iilwiorvo tlmt in aovonil phuoa of tho prcucnt 
 acciio(iui III Kuiiio rnrllcr |uuiM«,ro« of tho pliiy) It U dlfll- 
 cult III ilrtcnnliio wholhor tho nulhor wnlo pnnio or a 
 vory UKwciHirl i.r l.lmik vcmo (whUh iH;rhnp»lhii>UKh the 
 mrolmanoaa of tho trouscribor haa become still more nkin 
 U< jiroao). 
 
A CURE FOR A CUCKOLD. 
 
 319 
 
 Cowp. I'll thank you when I'm at supper. — 
 Come, father, child, and bride : and for your 
 part, father, 
 
 Whatsoever he, or he, or t'other says. 
 You shall be as welcome as in my t'other wife's 
 days. 
 Franch. I thank you, sir. 
 Wood. Nay, take us with you,* gentlemen : 
 * take MS viith you] i. e. understand ua. 
 
 One wedding we have yet to solemnize ; 
 The first is still imperfect, such troubles 
 Have drown'd our music ; but now, I hope, all's 
 
 friends : 
 Get you to bed, and there the wedding ends. 
 Comp. And so, good night. My bride and I'll 
 to bed : 
 He that has horns, thus let him learn to shed. 
 
 \_Exeunt. 
 
THE MALCONTENT. 
 
Tkt Matrtmlrnl. Hv Jnhii Mnrtton. 
 Au Mo/> in Paula Chuixk-yard. 
 
 1004. Printed at London by V. S.,/or WUUam AtpUy, and are to be tolde at 
 
 TV Malfonltnt. Augmentnl by hlnrilon. With the Addition* playeil by the Kinps ifaietties tervantt. Written. 
 fcjr fkoH Wtb*ler. 1604. M London Prinleil by V. S. for WUUam Aspley, and are to be sold at his sJiOp in Pauiet 
 CXmrrkyard, 
 
 Both Maraton and Webster, it appears from tlio last title-paj,'e, made additions to this play. It is impossible 
 to •lUtinioiUli tlio portiuns wliicli the latter coutributod ; but he is penerally supposed to have written the 
 Induetion. Wliat ia not found in the first 4to, I have marked by inverted commas: other variations of the two 
 •ditioim, I lutTo KiTon In tliu notes. 
 
 I luiTc luid occasion ceTcrol times in the course of this work to observe, that diflerent copies of the same edition* 
 of oM play • oflon ] irosout various readin;n> : sucli is tlie cjiso with the copies of the second 4 to of the Maleon/ent ; my 
 co|'y doe* not altoijollier iijfreo with tliat in the Garrick Collection. 
 
 Tkt MaUtmtent luu li«cn reprinted in the different e<lition8 of Dodslcy's Obi Plays, and in the Ancient British 
 Jfnata; aod mono reooutly Id Mr. llolliwoll's edition of Marston's U'orJl*. 
 
 Tb« h«iT> «if this pUy, Malovolo, wiia performed by Burbadpe : see the Induction ; see also A Funeral Segy tm 
 tkt tlealK V Iki famous actor. Hiehanl Burbadfjt, printed in M r. Collier's Memoirs of the Principal Actors in the play* </ 
 StMittpuux, )i. U'i, ed. Nlutkga. tSoo. 
 
BENIAMINO* JONSONIO, 
 
 POET^ 
 
 ELEGANTISSIMO, 
 
 GRAVISSIMO, 
 
 AMICO 
 
 SVO, CANDIDO ET CORDATO, 
 
 lOHANNES MARSTON, 
 
 MVSARVM ALVMNVS, 
 
 ASPERAM HANG SUAM THALIAM 
 
 D.D. 
 
 TO THE READER. 
 
 I AM an ill orator ; and, in truth, use to indite more honestly than eloquently, for it is my custom 
 to speak as I think, and write as I speak. 
 
 In plainness, therefore, understand, that in some things I have willingly erred, as in supposing a 
 Duke of Genoa, and in taking names different from that city's families : for which some may wittily 
 accuse me ; but my defence shall be as honest as many reproofs unto me have been most malicious. Since, 
 I heartily protest, it was my care to write so far from reasonable offence, that even strangers, in whose 
 state I laid my scene, should not from thence draw any disgrace to any, dead or living. Yet, in despite 
 of my endeavours, I understand some have been most unadvisedly over-cunning in misinterpreting me, 
 and with subtlety as deep as hell have maliciously spread ill rumours, which springing from themselves, 
 might to themselves have heavily returned. Surely I desire to satisfy every firm spirit, who, in all his 
 actions, proposeth to himself no more ends than God and virtue do, whose intentions are always 
 simple : to such I protest that, with my free understanding, I have not glanced at disgrace of any, but 
 of those whose unquiet studies labour innovation, contempt of holy policy, reverend, comely superiority, 
 and established unity : for the rest of my supposed tartness, I fear not bxit unto every worthy mind it 
 will be approved so general and honest as may modestly pass with the freedom of a satire. I would fain 
 leave the paper ; only one thing afflicts me, to think that scenes, invented merely to be spoken, should be 
 enforcively published to be read, and that the least hurt I can receive is to do myself the wrong. But, 
 since others otherwise would do me more, the least inconvenience is to be accepted. I have myself, 
 therefore, set forth this comedy ; but so, that my enforced absence must much rely upon the printer's 
 discretion : hut I shall entreat, slight errors in orthography may be as slightly over-passed, and that 
 the unhandsome shape, which this trifle in reading presents, may be pardoned for the pleasure it once 
 afforded you when it was presented with the soul of lively action. 
 
 Sine aliqua dementia nullus Phosbus.f 
 
 J. JL 
 
 * Beniamino] The second 4 to. "Beniamini." 
 
 t Sine aliqua, &c.] Instead of this, the first 4to has "Me mea seqnentur fata. 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONiE. 
 
 GiovAXSM Ai.TOFRosTo, disgiiiscd as Malevole, sometimo Uuke of Genoa. 
 
 PlETBO Jacomo, Duke of Genoa. 
 
 Mendoza, a niiniuu to the Duchess of Pietro Jacomo. 
 
 C'ELao, a friend to Altofronto. 
 
 Biuoeo, an old choleric marshal. 
 
 pHEPASso, a gentleman-usher. 
 
 Ff.rneze, n young courtier, and enamoured on the Duches:). 
 
 Fkrrardo, a minion to Duke Pietro Jitcomo. 
 
 Eyi-ATO, 
 (iUEHRINO, 
 
 " Passarello, fool to Bilioso." 
 
 I two courtiers. 
 
 AUREIJA, Duchess to Duke Pietro Jjicomo. 
 Maria, DuchcsH to Duke Altofronto. 
 Emiua, ) 
 BlAitcA 1 ^^° ""'les attending on Aiu-eliii. 
 
 MAquERELLK, lui old poudercss. 
 
 II 
 
THE INDUCTION 
 
 "THE MALCONTENT, AND THE ADDITIONS ACTED BY THE KING'S 
 "MAJESTY'S SERVANTS. 
 
 "WRITTEN BY JOHN "WEBSTER. 
 
 " Enter W. Sly*, a tvcQ-TDATi following him with a stool. 
 
 " Tire-man. Sir, the gentlemen will be angry 
 " if you sit here. 
 
 " Sly. Why, we may sit upon the stage at the 
 ' private house. Thou dost not take rue for a 
 " country-gentleman, dost 1 dost think I fear 
 " hissing ? I'll hold my life thou tookest me for 
 " one of the players. 
 
 " Tire-man. No, sir. 
 
 " Sly. By God's slid,+ if you had, I would have 
 " given you but six-pence + for your stool. Let 
 " them that have stale suits sit in the galleries. 
 " Hiss at me ! He that will be laughed out of a 
 " tavern or an ordinary, shall seldom feed well, or 
 " be drunk in good company. — Where's Harry 
 " Condell, Dick Burbadge, and William Sly 1 Let 
 " me speak with some of them. 
 
 "Tire-man. Au'c please you to go in, sir, you may. 
 
 " Sly. I tell you, no : I am one that hath seen 
 " this play often, and can give them intelligence 
 "for their action : I have most of the jests here 
 '• in my table-book. 
 
 "Enttr SiNivLO.§ 
 " Siriklo. Save you, coz ! 
 
 * W. Sly] See an account of William Sly in Mr. Collier's 
 Memoirs of the Principal Actors in the -plays of Shakespeare, 
 p. 151. — The reader must observe that here Sly is per- 
 sonating the "cousin" of young "Master Doomsday," 
 who (acted by Siuklo) presently enters. 
 
 t £y God's slid] This petty oath (more usually " 'Slid") 
 is, I believe, equivalent to "■ £y God's lid." (Compare 
 several other profane expressions formerly in use, — " By 
 God's body," "By God's head," cfcc.) 
 
 t six-pence for your stool] "From chap. vi. in Dekker's 
 GuU Horn-book, it appears that it was the fashion for the 
 gallants of the time to sit on the stage on stools." — Reed. 
 
 § Sinklo] A performer of no eminence : see Mr. CoUier's 
 
 " Sly. 0, cousin, come, you shall sit between 
 '' my legs here. 
 
 " Sinklo. No, indeed, cousin : the audience 
 •' then will take me for a viol-de-gambo, and 
 " think that you play upon me. 
 
 " Sly. Nay, rather that I work upon you, coz. 
 
 ''Sinklo. We stayed for you at supper last 
 ''night at my cou-in Honey-moon's, the woollen- 
 '■ draper. After supper we drew cuts for a score 
 '■ of apricocks, the longest cut still to draw an 
 " apricock : by this light, 'twas Mistress Frank 
 " Honeymoon's fortune still to have the longest 
 " cut : I did measure for the women. — What be 
 " these, coz? 
 
 " Enter D. Burbadge, H. Condell, oMd J. Lowin.* 
 
 " Sly. The players. — God save you ! 
 
 " Burbadge. You are vei'y welcome. 
 
 " Sly. I pi'ay you, know this gentleman, my 
 " cousin ; 'tis Master Doomsday's sou, the usurer. 
 
 " Condell. 1 beseech you, sir, be covered. 
 
 " Sly. No +, in good faith, for mine ease : look 
 
 " you, my hat's the handle to this fan : God's 
 
 " so, what a beast was I, I did not leave my 
 
 " feather at home ! Well, but I'll take an order 
 
 " with you. 
 
 [Puis his feather in his pocket. 
 
 Memoirs of the Principal Actors, &c. — Introd., p. xxvii. — 
 He is acting (as already noticed) young "Master Dooms- 
 day." 
 
 * D. Burbadge, H. Condell, and J. Lowin] For all that 
 can be told concerning Richard Burbadge, Henry 
 Condell, and John Lowm, see Mr. Collier's Memoirs of 
 the Principal Actcrs, izc, pp. 1, 132, 165. 
 
 t i\'o, in good faith, for mine ease] " A quotation from 
 the part of Osrick in Hamlet. Sly might have been the 
 original performer of that character." — Steeveris. 
 
326 
 
 THE INDUCTION TO THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 " Hurbadye. Why do you conceal your feather, 
 " sir ? 
 
 " Siy. Why, do you thiuk 111 hiivo jesU broken 
 •' upon me in the jilay, to be laughed at ? this 
 •* play hath beaten all your gallants out of tlie 
 " feathers : Black- friar* hath almost spoiled 
 " Black-friora for fiathera.* 
 
 " Sinklo. God's bo, 1 thought 'twas for some- 
 " wliat our gentlewomen at homo counselled me 
 - to wear my feather to the play : yet I am loth 
 * to spoil it. 
 
 '•Sly. Why, coz? 
 
 •' SiiiUo. Because I got it in the tilt-yard ; 
 " there wan a herald broke my pate for taking it 
 " up : but I have woru it up aud down the 
 " Struud, and met him forty times since, and yet 
 " ho dares not challenge it. 
 
 " Sly. Do you hear, sir ! this play is a bitter 
 '• play. 
 
 " Condell. Why, sir, 'tis neither satire nor 
 " moral, but tho mean passage of a history : yet 
 ■' there are a sort of discontented creatures that 
 " bear a Htiijgless envy to great ones, aud tlieso will 
 " wrest tlie doings of any man to their base, 
 " malicious appliuient ; but should their inter- 
 " pretation come to the test, like your marmoset, 
 " they presently turn their teeth to their tail aud 
 " eat it 
 
 " .SVy. I will not go so far with you ; but I say, 
 " any man that hath wit may consuro.f if he sit 
 " iji tho twolve-peuny room ;^ and I say again, tho 
 " pUy U bitter. 
 
 " Uurbaiiye. Sir, you are like a j)atron that, pro- 
 
 " Mutiog a |>oor scholar to a bonofice, cnjoms 
 
 " him not to rail against any thing that sttmds 
 
 '• within compaMi of his patron's folly. Why 
 
 .11 not wo enjoy tho uucifnt freedom of 
 
 ' Khali wo protest to tlio ladies that 
 
 ' iig mukos them angels 1 or to my 
 
 111 that his exponsu in tho brothel 
 
 " •Jmll ijatii him rpputution f No, sir, such vices 
 
 '• M stauil not accountuble to law should bo cui-ed 
 
 " M men hoal t«lt«n«, by costing ink upon thoiu. 
 
 " Wuuhl you bo Mliarioil in any thing oUe, sir ] 
 
 " t^y. Ay, marry, would 1 : 1 would know how 
 
 " V<MI , ,ll,r, ),v )|-i- • I'lV ' 
 
 ' Imt liiw 
 
 no i-uck- 
 
 /<ii(/irr, ko.' " 
 
 " Condell. Faith, sir, tho book was lost; and 
 ' because 'twas pity so good a play should be 
 
 • lost, we found it, and play it. 
 
 " Sty. I wonder you would play it, another 
 
 • company having interest in it. 
 
 " CondJl. Why not Malevole in folio with us, 
 ' as Jerouimo in decimo-sexto with them ! They 
 ' taught us a name for our play ; we call it One 
 ' for another.* 
 
 " Sty. What are your additions ? 
 
 " Burbadge. Sooth, not greatly needful ; only 
 ' as your salad to your great feast, to entertain a 
 ' little more time, and to abridge the not-received 
 ' custom of music in our theatre. I must leave 
 ' you, sir. [ZxiV. 
 
 " Sinklo. Doth he play the Malcontent ? 
 
 " Condell. Yes, sir. 
 
 " Sinklo. I dui-st lay four of mine ears the play 
 ' is not so well acted as'it hath been. 
 
 " Condelt. 0, no, sir, nothing ad Pannenonis 
 ' sucni. t 
 
 * One for another'] " From this preliminary portion of 
 tho play we learn that it had, in the tirst instiuice, been 
 performed by a rival company, under the title of 'The 
 Malcontent,' but that, witli additions, it was that night 
 to bo rejiresented by the King's iilaj-era, with the new 
 name of 'One for Another'." Collier's Memoirs of the 
 Principal Actors, Arc., p. 20. — "Tho meauin); I conceive 
 to bo this : 'I wonder,' says Sly, *you play tho Malcon- 
 tent, another company having interest in it." 'Why 
 not?' says Condell: 'they took little Jtnmi/mo (10") 
 from us ; why should wo not therefore tako the Molcon- 
 tout in largo (folio) from thoni ? This is wimt we call 
 one for unother, an exchongoof plays.' Jonson's additiiais 
 to Jeroni/mo woro douo for Uenslowo, and Mr. Outlier has 
 sliown it likely that The JJalconteiit was written "for 
 lienslowo." P. Cunninijhain (A'otu ami (^ueriet, — Soc, 
 !^er., vol. i. 71). 
 
 t Hothinij ad Parmouonis stiem] '" liihil ml Pamunoni* 
 »uriit ' is a proverb directed against those who, fhini 
 pivjudieo or pi-epo.sso3«ion, jmss a hasty Judgment, with- 
 out having any good grounds on whicli to found their 
 decision, riiiedrus, without mentioning tho name of 
 Parmono, has turned thu inciilout wliieh gavu riso to the 
 provorh into a fablo ; Kal>. I. v. f. v. 
 
 "Tho following oNtnict from Plutarch, 'in tho very 
 wordH of Ci-eecli,' would have suited tho annotiUor's 
 |iurpoHO Homowhat bettor than tho fabricated (piutntiou 
 froniToroncof wliich Steovonsgavo in a nolo on tlic prejicnt 
 piiMtdgoj. • Kor upon what otlior account sliould men In) 
 miiivihI to ndmlro I'liruinui'ii *>iic ho mudi as to jnuw it 
 into n pi\>vorb ? Vet 'tis j-ojxu-tod, tlial Parmono being 
 very fumoua for Imitating the gnniting of a pig, iiomo 
 ...iirml tx) rival and outdo hhn. .\nd when the 
 , being prejudiced, cried out, "Very well, indooil, 
 '.iiif/ cviiiiiiir<tl>lr III Pitrmoio't iioir,' one t<H>k a pig 
 under hl« aim, and eumo upon the Nt.'igo ; and when, 
 tho' thoy hoaiil tho very pig, they still coiitinuo.1, ' Thi$ 
 >» nulhiiiii C'liiiMinilile to Piirmnio'd foir,' ho throw his pig 
 itmohgxl thorn, to Khow that thoy JudgotI acconling to 
 opinion and not trutli.' Plutarch, Sym,H,t. lib. v. prob. I." 
 L.H. lu The ahalrtptarc Socitli/'t Painri, vol. III. 85. 
 
THE INDUCTION TO THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 327 
 
 " Lowin. Have you lost your ears, sir, that you 
 
 ' are so prodigal of laying them 1 
 " Sinklo. Why did you ask that, friend \ 
 " Lowin. Marry, sir, because I have heard of a 
 
 ' fellow would offer to lay a hundred-pound 
 
 ■ wager that was not worth five baubees : and in 
 ' this kind you might ventvu'e four of your 
 
 ■ elbows ; yet God defend* your coat should have 
 so many ! 
 
 " Sinklo. Nay, truly, I am no great censurer ; 
 and yet I might have been one of the college of 
 critics once. My cousin here hath an excellent 
 memory indeed, sir. 
 
 " Sly. Who, I ] I'll tell you a strange thing of 
 
 ■ myself; and I can tell you, for one that never 
 studied the art of memory, 'tis very strange 
 too. 
 
 " Condell. What's that, sir? 
 
 " Sly. Why, I'll lay a hundred pound, I'll walk 
 but once down by the Goldsmiths' Row in 
 Cheap, take notice of the signs, and tell you 
 them with a breath instantly. 
 
 " Lotoin. 'Tis very strange. 
 
 " Sly. They begin as the world did, with Adam 
 and Eve. There's in all just five and fifty.f I 
 do use to meditate much when I come to plays 
 
 ■ too. What do you think might come into a 
 man's head now, seeing all this company ? 
 
 " Condell. I know not, su\ 
 
 " Sly. I have an excellent thought. If some 
 
 ■ fifty of the Grecians that were crammed in the 
 horse' -belly had eaten garlic, do you not think 
 the Trojans might have smelt out their knavery ? 
 " Condell. Very likely. 
 
 " Sly. By God, I would theyj had, for I love 
 ' Hector horribly. 
 " Sinklo. 0, but, coz, coz ! 
 
 * dffend] Le. forbid. 
 
 t There's in all just five and fifty] "TMs is a pleasant 
 exaggeration on the part of Sly. There were in all, as 
 Stow tells us, 'ten fair dwelling-houses and fourteen 
 shops.' See 'Goldsmiths' Row' in Handbook of London, 
 ed. 1850." P. Cunningham {Notes and. Queries, — Sec. Ser., 
 vol. i, 71). 
 
 X they.] The old ed. "fie." 
 
 " ' Great Alexander,* when he came to the tomb 
 
 " of Achilles, 
 •' 'Spake with a big loud voice, thou thrice- 
 " blessed and happy ! ' 
 " Sly. Alexander was an ass to speak so well of 
 " a filthy cuUion. + 
 
 "Lowin. Good sir, will you leave the stage? 
 " I'll help you to a private room.+ 
 
 " Sly. Come, coz, let's take some tobacco. — 
 " Have you never a prologue ? 
 " Lowin. Not any, sir. 
 
 " Sly. Let me see, I will make one extempore. 
 
 [Coiiie to them, and. fencing of a congey with arras 
 
 and leys, he round with them.^ 
 
 " Gentlemen, II I could wish for the women's 
 
 " sakea you had all soft cushions ; and, gentle- 
 
 " v/omen, I could wish that for the men's sakes 
 
 " you had all more easy standings. 
 
 " What would they wish more but the play 
 " now ] and that they shall have instantly. 
 
 [Exeunt." 
 
 * Great Alexander, &c.J "His aftemoones theame," 
 (says Gabriel Harvey, writing to Spenser, ) ' ' was borrowed 
 out of him, whom one in your coate, they say, is as much 
 beholding imto, as any planet or stiirre in heaven is uiito 
 the sunne ; and is quoted, as yourself best remember, in 
 the Glose of your October : 
 
 Giunto Alessandro a la famosa tomba 
 Del fero AchUle, sospiraudo disse, 
 O fortunato, che si chiara tromba 
 Trovasti ! [Petrarch, Son. cliii.] 
 Within an houre or thereaboutes, he brought me these 
 foiire lustie hexameters ; altered since not past in a worde 
 or two : 
 
 Noble Alexander, when he came to the tombe of Achilles, 
 Sighing spake with a bigge voyce, — O thrice blessed 
 Achilles, [found, 
 
 That such a trump, so great, so loude, so glorious hast 
 As the renowned and surprizing .archpoet Homer ! " 
 
 Tfiree Proper, and wUtie, famdiar Letters: lately passed 
 betweene two Vniuersitie men: touching the Earthquake in 
 Aprill last, and our Englv-h refourmed Versifying. 4to. 
 1680, p. 39. The " foure lustie hexameters " just quoted 
 were by John Harvey, Gabriel's brother. Long before 
 the present play was written, Peele had ridiculed on the 
 stage Gabriel's own hexameters : see The Old Wiues Tale, 
 in Peele's Works, vol. i. p. 238, sec. ed. 1829. 
 
 t cullion]i.e. scoxmdiel. 
 
 t rooia] i.e. box. 
 
 § Come to them, &c.'] I have made this a stage-direction, 
 at the suggestion of Mr. Collier : it is printed in the old 
 copy as a portion of the text. 
 
 II Gentlemen. Sic] " This seems intended as a burlesque 
 on the Epilogue to As you like it." — Reed. 
 
THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCEXE I.t 
 
 The vilest out-of-tune mvMc being heard., eater Biltoso and 
 Prepasso. 
 
 £il. Why, how now ! are ye mad, or druuk, 
 or both, or what '? 
 
 Pre. Are ye building Babylon there ? 
 
 Bil. Here's a noise in court ! you think you 
 are in a tavern, do you not ? 
 
 Pre. You think you are in a brothel-house, do 
 you not? — This room is ill- scented. 
 
 Enter One with a perfume. 
 So, perfume, pei-fume ; some upon me, I pray 
 thee. — The duke is upwn instant entrance : so, 
 make place there ! 
 
 Enter Pietko, Pereardo, Equato ; Celso and 
 GuEREixo be/ore. 
 
 Pietro. Where breathes that music 1 
 
 Bil. The discord rather than the music is heard 
 from the malcontent Malevole's chamber. 
 
 Fer. [caUi7ig] Malevole ! 
 
 Mai. [above, out of his chamher] Yaugh, god- 
 a-mau, what dost thou there ? Duke's Ganymede, 
 Juno's jealous of thy long stockings : shadow of 
 a woman, what wouldst, weasel? thou lamb 
 o' coiirt, what dost thou bleat for ? ah, you 
 smooth-chinned catamite ! 
 
 Pietro. Come down, thou rugged J cur, and 
 snarl here; I give thy dogged suUenness free 
 liberty : trot about and bespurtle whom thou 
 pleasest. 
 
 Mai. I'll come among you, you goatish-blooded 
 toderers,* as gum into taffata, to fret, to fret : 
 I'll fall like a sponge into water, to suck up, to 
 suck up. [Howls againi'.'] I'll go to church, J 
 and come to you. [Exit above. 
 
 Pietro. This Malevole is one of the most pro- 
 digious affections that ever conversed with nature : 
 a man, or rather a monster ; more discontent 
 than Lucifer when he was thrust out of the 
 presence. His appetite is unsatiable as the grave ; 
 as far from any content as from heaven : his 
 highest delight is to procure others vexation, and 
 therein he thinks he truly serves heaven; for 
 'tis his position, whosoever in this earth can be 
 contented is a slave and damned ; therefore does 
 he afflict all in that to which they are most affect- 
 ed. The elements struggle within him ; his own 
 soul is at vai'iauce "within herself"; his speech 
 is halter-worthy at all hours. I like him, faith : 
 he_^ives good inte lligence to my spirir, rn ajcRs 
 
 * Tlie Malcontent.] Opposite these words, on the margin 
 of both 4tos, is " Vexat censura columbas." [Juvenal, 
 Sat. ii. 63.] 
 
 t Scene / ] A room in the palace, with a gallei-y, it 
 would seem. Prepasso says, " This room is ill-sceuted ; " 
 and, presently after, Malevole appears "above," i.e. on 
 what was called the upper stage. 
 
 X rugged.] The second 4to. "ragged." 
 
 ie„ 
 
 fl attery paljiatoo f — Hark ! tliey sing. [A song.^ 
 
 See, he comes. "N'owshall you heartlio fvtrpmity 
 n f a. Tnalt^nnfflnt • lift ia a.^ f»-oo ■^--- ni.^; Vin V.ln,TTr~ 
 n^^r Prpry jpai^, - 
 
 Enter Malevole below. 
 And, sir, whence come you now ? 
 
 Mai. From the public place of much dissimu- 
 latio», ^' Ijljtt ohuf oh." 
 
 * toderers] " I suppose this is a word coined from tod, 
 a certain weight of sheep's wool. He seems willing to 
 intimate that the duke, (fcc. are //-t-((<to)i-mongers. The 
 meaning o{ laced mutton is well known." — Sleevens. 
 
 t [Howls again ] The old eds. have " Howie againe," and 
 ae a portion of the dialogue ; but the words are evidently 
 a stage-direction. Just before Malevole has exclaimed, 
 " Yaugh, god-a-man," &c., — which is a sort of howling. 
 
 t go to church] The first 4to. "pray:" but compare 
 what Malevole says when he enters below. 
 
 I A song] See note f, p. 45. 
 
330 
 
 THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 Pieiro. What didst there \ 
 
 Mai. Talk with a usurer; take up at interest. 
 
 Pictro. I wonder wliat relife'lou thou art "of" ? 
 
 Mai. Of a soldier's religiuu. 
 
 Pietro. Aud what dost thou think makes most 
 infidels now 1 
 
 Mai. Sects, sects. I have seen soeming piety 
 change hor robo so oft, tlmt sure none but some 
 arch-devil can Bha|>e her a new* petticoat. 
 
 Pietro. 0, a religious policy. 
 
 Mai. But, damn:ition on a politic religion ! "I 
 am weary : would I were one of the duke's 
 hounds now ! " 
 
 Pitiio. But what's the eoiunion news abroad, 
 Malcvule f thou doggcnt rumour still. 
 
 Mai. Common news ! why, common words arc, 
 Qod save ye, Fare ye well ; common actions, flat- 
 t«ry and cozenage ; common things, women and 
 cuckolds. — Aud how does my little Ferrard? 
 Ah, ye lecherous animal ! — my little ferret, he 
 goes tucking up and down the palace into every 
 ben's nest, like a weasel : — and to what dost thou 
 addict thy time to now more than to those 
 antique painted drabs that are still affected of 
 young courtiers, — flattery, pride, and vencry 1 
 
 Per. I stuily languages. Who dost think to be 
 the host linguist of our age ? 
 
 Mai. I'huw ! the devil : let him possess thee ; 
 he'll teach thee to speak all languages most 
 roadily and strangely ; and great reason, marr}', 
 ba'a travelled greatly i' the world, and is every 
 where. 
 
 Frr, Save j' the court. 
 
 Mai. Ay, aave i* the court.— [7*0 Bilioio] And 
 bow does my old muckhill. oversjiread with fresh 
 wiow r thou half a man, half a goat, all a beast ! 
 bow duo* tliy young wife, old huddle ? 
 
 Bil. Out, you improvident rascal ! 
 
 Mai. I).., kick, thou hugely-hurned old duko's 
 o», gooti Mtuitrr Make pleas. 
 
 I'ulro. liowduiil thuu live nowadays, Malovolo \ 
 
 M»i Why, like the knight Sir I'atiiek renlo- 
 iih killing o' apidora for my lady's 
 
 ll"W Jo«tsi>cnd the night I I hoar them 
 
 ', tto; hut droum the most fantastical ! 
 I O fubUtry. fiihbery ! 
 Drvain ! what ditamost f 
 
 ^'" ^^ ' ■' 'ks I M<« that slgiiior pawn 
 
 '- iiiotrp/a hor plulo : this 
 
 bu r< 
 
 Tpndnm takcs physic, that t'other monsieur may 
 miuistcr to her: here is a pander jewelled ; 
 there "is" a fellow in shift of satin this day, 
 that could not shift a shirt t'other night : here a 
 Paris supports that Helen ; there's a Lady Guiuo- 
 vcr beai"s up that Sir Lancelot : dreams, dreamp, 
 visions, fantasies, chimeras, imaginations, tricks, 
 conceits! — [To Prepasso] Sir Tristram Trimtram, 
 come aloft, Jack-an-apes, * with a whim-wham: 
 here's a knight of the land of Catito shall play 
 at trap with any page in Europe ; do the sword- 
 dance with any morris-dancer in Christendom ; 
 ride at the ring, t till the fin of his eyes look as 
 blue as the welkin ; X and run the wildgooie-chase 
 even with Poiiipey the Huge.§ 
 
 Pietro. You run ! 
 
 Mai. To the devil. — Now, signior Guerrino, 
 that thou from a most pitied prisoner shouldst 
 grow a most loathed flatterer ! — Alas, poor Celso, 
 thy star's oppressed : thou art an honest loi-d : 
 'tis pity. 
 
 Equato. Is't pity ? 
 
 Mai Ay, marry is't, philosophical Equato; 
 aud 'tis pity that thou, being so excellent a 
 scholar by art, shouldst be so ridiculous a foci 
 by nature. — I have a thing to tell you, duke : bid 
 'em avaunt, bid 'em avauut. 
 
 Pietro. Leave us, leave us. 
 
 lEjceunt all crctiit PiETRO anj Maletolb 
 Now, sir, what is't ? 
 
 Mai. Duke, thou art a becco,|| acornuto. 
 
 Pietro. How ! 
 
 Mai. Tl iau art i^ piip)^o1 i1 
 
 Pieiro. Speak, iiii.shalo*^ him quick. 
 
 Mai. With most tumbler-like nimbleness. 
 
 Pietro. Who ? by whom ? I bui"st with desii-o. 
 
 Mai. At.'ii.l.>->> io <l..^ "\u\\\ llliil ^es theo a | ) ii riinil 
 hoast^ (hike, ti.-^ .M< ndu/.a eoniutis thee. 
 
 Pietro. What conformimco i relate; short, 
 short. 
 
 Mai. As a lawyer's beard. 
 There is an old erouo in the court, hor uamo is 
 
 Maquerelle, 
 She is my mistress, sooth to say, luul she doth 
 over tell me. 
 
 • com* ain^, Jack-an-aptt, Ac.] The oxclaumtlon of an 
 a])o-wnnl to liia a|io. 
 
 f riilt III the nii(/| St'C Moto •, p. (10. 
 
 t litl Ihe .rf» ly' Au ryu tool nji Ithu itt the trtUin ] Soo 
 iiut« t, |i. 1)7. 
 
 I /'(■mjir.v Ihe llvgr] 80 hi Shnk»«|ieuro'ii Lovr't Laliour'i 
 l..'ii. ucl v.. Mu J. ; ■■({■■» ktur than (Jroat, K'"«at, great, 
 1,'liMt lVlll|x..\ ! ri>mi>ry Iht lluiit!" 
 
 il lticu\ "l.o. oiiokol.l, IUxl."—Strem>ii. 
 
 •J un$kuU\ A form ufuNjAWr 
 
SCEXE 1. 
 
 THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 331 
 
 Blirt, a rhyme, blirt, a rhyme ! Maquerelle is a 
 cunniug bawd : I am au honest villain ; thy wife 
 is a close drab ; and thou art a notorious cuckold. 
 Farewell, duke. 
 
 Pietro. Stay, stay. 
 
 Mai. Dull, dull duke, can lazy patience make 
 lame revenge ? God, for a woman to make a 
 man that which God never created, never made ! 
 
 Pietro. What did God never make ? 
 
 Mai. A cuckold : to be made a thing that's 
 hoodwinked with kindness, whilst every rascal 
 fillips his brows ; to have a coxcomb with egre- 
 gious horns jjinned to a lord's back, every page 
 sporting liimself with delightful laughter, whilst 
 he must be the last must know it : pistols and 
 poniards ! pistols and poniards ! 
 
 Pietro. Death and damnation ! 
 
 Mai. Lightning and thunder ! 
 
 Pietro. Vengeance and torture ! 
 
 Mai. Catso ! * 
 
 Pietro. 0, I'evenge ! 
 
 " Mai. Nay, to select among ten thousand fairs 
 " A lady far inferior to the most, 
 " In fau' proportion both of limb and soul ; 
 " To take her from austerer check of parents, 
 " To make her his by most devoutful rites, 
 " Make her commandress of a better essence 
 " Than is the gorgeous world, even of a man ; 
 " To hug her with as rais'd au appetite 
 "As usurers do their delv'd-up treasury 
 " (Thinking none tells it but his private self) ; 
 " To meet her spirit in a nimble kiss, 
 "Distilling panting ai'dour to her heart ; 
 " True to her sheets, nay, diets strong his blood, 
 " To give her height of hymeneal sweets, ■ 
 
 " Pietro. God ! 
 
 "Mai. "Whilst she lisps, and gives him some 
 '• cowci-quelquechose, 
 " Made only to provoke, not satiate : 
 " And yet even then the thaw of her delight 
 *' Flows from lewd heat of apprehension, 
 " Only from strange imagination's rankness, 
 " That forms the adulterer's presence in her soul, 
 " And makes her think she clipsf the foul knave's 
 " loins. 
 
 " Pietro. Affliction to my blood's root ! 
 
 •' 3Ial. Nay, think, but think what may proceed 
 " of this ; 
 " Adultgrj is often the mother of incest. 
 
 " Pietro. 
 
 * Catso] An Italian exclamation (of obscene meaning) 
 still in use. 
 t clip»\ i.e. embraces. 
 
 " Mai. Yes, incest : mark : — Mendoza of his wife 
 " begets pei'chauce a daughter : Mendoza dies ; 
 " his son marries this daughter : say you ? nay, 
 " 'tis frequent, not only probable, but no question 
 '•' often acted, whilst ignorance, fearless ignorance, 
 " clasps his own seed. 
 
 '* Pietro. Hideous imagination ! 
 
 "Mai. Adultery ? why, next to the sin of simony, 
 "'tis the most horrid transgression under the 
 " cope of salvation. 
 
 "Pietro. Next to simony ! 
 
 "Mai. Ay, next to simony, in which our men 
 " in next age shall not sin. 
 
 "Pietro. Not sin ! why] 
 
 " Mai. Because (thanks to some church-men) 
 '' our age will leave them nothing to sin with. 
 " But adultery, duluess ! should show * exem- 
 " plary punishment, that intemperate bloods may 
 " freeze but to think it." I would damn him 
 and all his generation : my own hands should do 
 it ; ha, I would not trust heaven with my ven- 
 geance : — any thing. 
 
 Pietro. Any thing, any thing, Malevole : thou 
 shalt see instantly what temper my spirit holds. 
 Farewell; remember I forget thee not; farewell. 
 
 \_Ej:'d Pietro. 
 
 "Mai. Farewell. \ 
 
 " Lean thoughtfulness, a sallow meditation, \ 
 "Suck thy veins dry, distemperance rob 
 " sleep ! 
 
 " The heart's disquiet is revenge most deep 
 " He that gets blood, the life of flesh but spill; 
 " But he that breaks heart's peace, the dear so 
 
 "kills. 
 
 " Well, this disguise doth yet afford me that 
 "Which kings do seldom hear, or great meji 
 
 "use, — 
 " Free speech : and though my state's usurp'd 
 " Yet this affected strain gives me a tongue 
 " As fetterless as is an emperor's. 
 " I may speak foolishly, ay, knavishly, 
 "Always carelessly, yet no one thinks it fashion 
 " To poise my breath ; for he that laughs and 
 
 '• strikes 
 " Is lightly felt, or seldom struck again. 
 " Duke, I'll torment thee now ; my just revenge 
 " From thee than ci'own a richer gem shall part . 
 " Beneath God, naught's so dear as a calm heart." 
 
 Re-enter Celso. / 
 
 Ceho. My honour'd lord, — 
 Mai. Peace, speak low, peace ! Celso, con- 
 stant lord, 
 
 * sliould show] The old ed. "shue sliould." 
 
 A 
 
THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 ACT r. 
 
 (Thou to who«o faith I only rest dUcover'd, 
 
 Tliou, one of full ten millioDH of men, 
 
 That lovtst virtue only for iti^elf ; 
 
 Thou in whose han.ls old Ops nmy put her soul,) 
 
 Behold forever-baniah'd Altofrout, 
 
 Thi* Genoa's la«t year's duke. truly noble ! 
 
 I wiuited thoM old iuatnimcuUi of titate, 
 
 Diiuiemblauoe and HURpcct: I could not time it, 
 
 CijUo ; 
 My throne stood like a point mid.st* of a circle. 
 To all of equal neamcM ; boro with none ; 
 Rcin'd all alike; so slept in fearless virtue, 
 SuHpcotles", too Hiispfctless ; tjLLtluLcrowd, 
 (Still iiiniirrrii r h f-wufr i pd ii nT i Iti i .) 
 
 iljili- >irMi)^ji-itit ii'i»t'«itMK ^b;iairih'd AUofr ont. 
 CtUo. Siroi.g with Florence! ay, thence your 
 miiu-iiief rose ; 
 For when the daughter of the Florentine 
 Was match'd once with thin Pietro, now duke, 
 No stnito^cm of state untried was left, 
 
 Till you of all 
 
 Mai. Of all was quite bereft: 
 
 Alan, M«r«» 1 Imni [nj nun' i1. 
 
 My trni>-fm<li'>< tjti..h i'lLj^ ^eitadc l ! 
 
 C<Uo. I'll btill adhere : let's mutiny and die. 
 Mat. 0, "no," climb not a filling tower, Cclao ; 
 *Tui Well held de^]>erution, no zeal, 
 Hu|>«IeM Ui strive witli fute : peace; temporize. 
 Uopo, hope, that ne'er forsakes t the wretched'st 
 
 mail, 
 Yet bids me live, and lurk in this disguise. 
 What, play I well the froobreuth'd discontent? 
 Why, man, we are all philosophical monurcha 
 Or natural fools. CeUo, the court's a-fire ; 
 Tlie duchinM* sheets will smoke for't ere 't be long : 
 Impure Meudou, that sliiirp uohM lor<l, that made 
 III* cuni^.l match liuk'd Gt-noa with Florence, 
 K" iiistiie dtiko, whicli he now knows. 
 
 I*'' ' "litems is vrry mnniiii : 
 
 Wht!. i;.c j.»i.k»aro burst, then sculHo, Altofrout. 
 <'''.-. .A y but dur»l- — 
 
 "" ; 'lis swiillow'd like a minend : 
 *" ' w"ik ; |.houl. Ml not Hlnink : 
 
 Ho's r««olut« who oou no lower sink. 
 
 • \ |H>lc« ! did you never seo a 
 1 ill his breath, ro- 
 ll i* lord, and love 
 
 ('■I," and III tho iioxi 
 
 I «*] T1.S ..;.! 
 
 "Bil. Signior, — 
 
 " Mai. My right worshipful lord, your court 
 " night-cap makes you have a passing high fore- 
 •' head. 
 
 " Bil. I can tell you strange news, but I am sure 
 " you know them already : the duke speaks much 
 " good of you. 
 
 " Mai. Go to, then : and shall you and I now 
 " enter into a strict friendship ? 
 
 " Bil. Second one another ? 
 
 '•Mai. Yea. 
 
 " Bil. Do one another good oflBces ? 
 
 " Mai. Just: what though I called thee old ox, 
 " egregious wittol, broken-bellied coward, rotten 
 " mummy ? yet, since I am in favour 
 
 " Bil. Words of course, terms of disport. His 
 " grace presents you by me a chain, as hi.s grateful 
 " remembrance for — I am ignorant for what; 
 " marry, ye may impart: yet howsoever — come — 
 " dear friend; dost know my son? 
 
 " Mai. Your son ! 
 
 " Bil. He shall eat wood-cooks, dance jigs, make 
 " possets, and play at shuttle-cock with any young 
 " lord about the court : he has as sweet a lady 
 " too; dost know her little bitch ? 
 
 " Mai. 'Tis a dog, man. 
 
 " Bil. Believe me, a she-bitch : 0, 'tis a good 
 " creature ! thou shalt be her servant. I'll make 
 " thee ac(iuainted with my young wife too : what ! 
 " I keep her not at court for nothing. 'Tis grown 
 *' to Bupper-time ; come to my table : that, any 
 " thing I have, stands open to thee. 
 
 " Mai. [aside to Cklso] How smooth to him 
 " that is in state of grace, 
 " How servile is tho rugged'st courtier's face ! 
 ■' What profit, nay, what nature would keep down, 
 " Are hoav'd to them are minions to a crown. 
 " Envious ambition never eates his thirst, 
 •' Till Kucking all, ho swells and swells, and burst.* 
 
 " Bil. 1 shall now leave you with my always-best 
 " wishes; ouly let's hold betwixt us a firm corre- 
 " spondenco, a mutual friendly-reciprocal kind of 
 " steady-unanimous-heartily -leagued 
 
 " Mai. Did your signiorship ne'er see a pigeon- 
 •' house that wa.s smooth, round, and white with- 
 " out, and full of holes aiul stink within? Iia* yo 
 " nut, (dd courtier \ 
 
 " Bil. O, yes, 'tis tho form, tlio fashion of them 
 '• all. 
 
 " Mill. Adieu, my true court friend : farowoll, 
 " my dear Ca»tilio." f [Ksit Bii.ioso. 
 
 • burrt\ Tho old od. "biirslM." 
 \ Ca$iHio\ All nlhulou to nnldcssar CnaUffliono : t-. . 
 iiot« t, I*. 'JOO. 
 
THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 333 
 
 Celso. Yonder's Mendoza. 
 
 Mai. True, the privy-key. \_Descries Mendoza. 
 
 Celso. I take my leave, sweet lord. 
 
 Mai. 'Tis fit ; away ! \_Ej:it Celso. 
 
 Enter Mendoza with three or four Suitors. 
 
 Men. Leave your suits with me; I can and will : 
 attend my secretaiy ; leave me. \Exemit Suitors. 
 
 Mai. Mendoza, hark ye, hark ye. You are a 
 treacherous villain : God b' wi' ye ! 
 
 Men. Out, you base-born I'ascal ! 
 
 Mai. We are all the sons of heaven, though a 
 tripe-wife were our mother: ah, you whoreson, 
 hot-reined he-marmoset ! ^gisthus ! didst ever 
 hear of one jEgisthusI 
 
 Men. Gisthus \ 
 
 Mai. Ay, .^Egisthus: he was a filthy incontinent 
 flesh-monger, such a one as thou art. 
 
 Men. Out, grumbling rogue ! 
 
 Mai. Orestes, beware Orestes ! 
 
 Men. Out, beggar! 
 
 Mai. I once shall rise. 
 
 Men. Thou rise ! 
 
 Mai. Ay, at the resurrection. 
 No vulgar seed but once may rise and shall ; 
 No king so huge but 'fore he die may fall. \Exit. 
 
 Men. Now, good Elysium ! what a delicious 
 heaven is it for a man to be in a prince's favour ! 
 sweet God ! pleasm-e ! fortune ! all thou 
 best of life ! what should I think, what say, what 
 do to be a favourite, a minion 1 to have a general 
 timorous respect observe a man, a stateful silence 
 in his presence, solitariness in his absence, a con- 
 fused hum and busy murmur of obsequious 
 suitors training him ; the cloth held up, and way 
 proclaimed before him ; petitionary vassals Ucking 
 the pavement with their slavish knees, whilst 
 some odd palace-lampreels that engender with 
 snakes, and are full of eyes on both sides, with a 
 kind of insinuated* humbleness, fix all their 
 delights + upon his brow. blessed state ! what 
 a ravishing prospect doth the Olympus of favour 
 yield ! Death, I cornute the duke ! Sweet 
 women ! most sweet ladies ! nay, angels ! by 
 heaven, he is more accursed than a devil that 
 hates you, or is hated by you ; and happier than 
 a god that loves you, or is beloved by you ; you 
 preservers of mankind, life-blood of society, who 
 would live, nay, who can live without you ? 
 paradise ! how majestical is your austerer pre- 
 sence ! how imperiously chaste is your more 
 modest face! but, 0, how full of ravishing 
 
 * insinvMted] The first 4to. "in.finuating." 
 t delights] The first 4to. "lights," 
 
 attraction is your pretty, petulant, languish- 
 ing, lasciviously-composed countenance ! these 
 amorous smiles, those soul-warming sparkling 
 glances, ardent as those flames that singed 
 the world by heedless Phaeton ! in body how 
 delicate,* in soul how witty, in discourse how 
 pregnant, in life how waiy, in favours how judi- 
 cious, in day how sociable, and in night how 
 
 pleasure unutterable ! indeed, it is most certain, 
 one m aa- cannot d eserve o nly t o.fn jr<y a bp ='i]|-|fip"g 
 WDliaan : but a ailftUeaaJ, in despite of Phoebus, 
 I'll write a sonnet instantly in praise of her. 
 
 I Exit. 
 
 SCENE Il.t 
 
 EnterVzB.yEZEv.j>hering Avu'BLi \, Emilia ared Maquerelle 
 bearing up her train, Biaxc.a. attending: then exeunt 
 Emilia and Bianca. 
 
 Aurel. And is't possible? Mendoza slight me ! 
 possible ? 
 
 Fer. Possible ! 
 What can be strange in him that's drunk with 
 
 favour, J 
 Grows insolent with grace ? — Speak, Maquerelle, 
 
 Maq. To speak feelingly, more, more richly in 
 solid sense than worthless words, give me those 
 jewels of your ears to receive my enforced duty. 
 As for my part, 'tis well known I can put up § 
 anything [Fern'eze pH'i;a^e/y /eecfs Maquebelle's 
 hands with jewels during this speech] ; can bear 
 patiently with any man : but when I heard he 
 wi-onged your precious sweetness, I was enforced 
 to take deep ofience. 'Tis most certain he loves 
 Emilia with high appetite : and, as she told me 
 (as you know we women impart our secrets one to 
 another), when she repulsed his suit, in that he 
 was possessed with your endeared jrrace, Mendoza 
 most ingratefully i-enounced all faith to you. 
 
 Fer. Nay, called you — Speak, Maquerelle, speak. 
 
 Maq. By heaven, witch, dried biscuit ; and 
 contested blushlessly he loved you but for a spurt 
 
 * m body how delicate, fee] The author had here an eye 
 to the well-known passage of Shakespeare; — "What a 
 piece of work is man ! How noble In reason ! how infinite 
 in faculties ! in form, and moving, how express and ad- 
 mirable ! in action, how like an angel ! in apprehension, 
 how like a god ! the beauty of the world ! the paragon of 
 animals ! " hamlet, act ii. sc. 2. 
 
 t Scene II.] Another room in the same. 
 
 X with favour] Omitted in the copy of the second 4to. 
 in the Garrick Collection. 
 
 § zip] Not in the second 4to. 
 
1 
 
 TUE MALCONTENT. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Fer. For maintoiuuico. 
 J/a/;. AJvancciucnt and regard. 
 Aurtl. O villain ! O impudent Mendoza • 
 ilaq. Nay, heia tlicrusticHt jawod,* tin- fonlest- 
 inoutlied knave in railing agaiut^t our ^.x: he will 
 rail against + women — 
 Aurtl. How! how ? 
 Maq. I am aithamed to cpcttk't, I. 
 Aurd. I love to hate him : Bj>c:ik. 
 Maq. Why, when Kmilia scorned his base un- 
 I ateadinesa, the black throated rascal scolded, and 
 ■aid— 
 
 Jure/, \Miiit? 
 
 Maq. Trotli, 'tia too ihamelcsii. 
 A urtL Wiiat said he f 
 I Maq. Wiy, that, at four, women were fools; at 
 fourteen, drabs; at forty, bawds; at fouracpre, 
 witches ; and [at] a hundred, cat& 
 Attrtl. U unlimitable impudency ! 
 F<r. But as for poor Fernezo's fix6d heart, 
 Was never shadeleBS meadow drier parch'd 
 Under the sccjrchini; heat of heaven's dog, 
 , Titan is my heart with your enforcing eyes. 
 j Maq. A hot simile. 
 
 ] Fer. Your smiles have been my heaven, your 
 frowns my hell : 
 0, I'ity, then I ^raco should with beauty dwell. 
 Marj UcaKuiiable perfect, by'r lady. 
 Aurtl. I will lovo tiiee, be it but in despite 
 Of that Mondoea: — witch ! — Fenioze, — witch I — 
 K.r*.,,,., thou art the duchess* favourite: 
 il, private : but 'tis dangerous. 
 /<•' Hi* lore is lifeless that for Invo fears 
 hrMtb: 
 T\ ' 'iduetosin.O, would 'twere death! 
 
 y my favour. I will be Kick in- 
 stantly ujji take physic: therefore in dcjith of 
 
 ';>»r chamber, but conditionallj' you 
 ' l.< r bud : by thin diamond ! 
 
 :ii|. |</'irin);(/iai>iOri(/ ^o MaQ. 
 ' . ,. iiger than you pletwe : by this 
 
 niby ! 
 
 Fir. ny this ruby. [0!v!ng mbi/ (o Maq. 
 
 Maq And thsl the door shall not cn>ak. 
 F*r And that tho door shall not creak. 
 Mae. S«y. but swoar. 
 
 Ftr. Hjr Ihla punie. [airing piirjr lo MAy. 
 
 J/*9. <Jo t«. I'll ktwp your ontliH f..r you : re- 
 
 IIMHicrtI OlllUuD* of tlllll 
 
 I ,.-...,.] T 
 
 Aurel. Dried biscuit! — Look where the base 
 wretch comes. 
 
 Enter 5IE.VD02A, reading a tonvet. 
 
 Men. " Beauty's life, heaven's model, love's 
 queen," — 
 
 3faq. That's his Emilia. 
 
 Men. "Nature's triumph, best on * earth," — 
 
 Ma</. Meaning Emilia. 
 
 Men. " Thou only wonder that the world hath 
 seen," — 
 
 Maq. That's Emilia. 
 
 Aurel. Must I, then, hear her praised ? —Men- 
 doza ! 
 
 3fen. Madam, your excellency is gi-aciously en- 
 countered : I have been writing passionate flashes 
 in honour of — [Exit Fkbnezb. 
 
 A urel. Out, villain, villain ! 
 
 judgment, where have been my eyes? what 
 Bewitch'd election made mc dote on thee ? 
 What sorcery made me love thee ? But, be gone ; 
 Bury thy head. 0, that I could do more 
 
 Than loathe thee ! hence, worst of ill ! 
 No reason ask, our reason is our will.t 
 
 [Eeit irith Maqcebellk. 
 Men. Women! nay, Furies; nay, worse; for 
 they torment only the bad, but women good 
 and bad. Damnation of mankind ! Breath, bust 
 thou praised them for this ? and is't you, Ferneze, 
 are wriggled into smock-gmce ] sit sure. 0, that 
 
 1 could i-ail against these monsters in nature, 
 models of hell, curse of the earth, women ! that 
 dare attempt any thing, and what they attempt 
 they care not how they accomplish ; without all 
 premeditation or prevention ; r;\sh in a!>king, 
 desperate in working, impatient in Buffering, 
 extreme in desiring, slaves unto appetite, mis- 
 tresses in dissembling, only constant in uucon- 
 Kt>uicy,t only perfect in counterfeiting: their 
 
 • on] Tho flnit4to "qf." 
 
 t Ao rtiimm, Ac] Tlio first 4to ; 
 
 " No roAsoii flue, wiy i-c^uion Is my will." 
 
 J (miy emittant in iiii(ri>iiji/<iiiry] Comi«iro n sti-iking 
 IxuuukKo in Thr y,iir MnuU o/ Jlri.itotr. ICiO.'i ; 
 
 *• .\ liiirUit's lovo is like a ohiinnoysinoku, 
 Qiilvorlntr In tho niro ImjIwoouo two UhwtH of winds. 
 Ilonit' liooro lujd tlioro by oiDior of tlio Hiuno, 
 Ami pi-opoily lo nono of Imth inolind : 
 lliilo »n<l ilin|i!ilro Ik piiinlod in thoir oios, 
 iK'Ciit mill tiviuiou In tht'ir hoHHomo lies; 
 Tlioir proniliinH nrv niri<lo of lu-itllo ((l.-uoo, 
 (iro»uul llko II pliillip to tlio ihu'Ht dust : 
 Tlu'lr thoiiuhtM like- Nlixviniin^'rivursiiwirtly |Vuiihi ; 
 Thoir wonl» nit) oyU<, iind yol lliry i^ivllicr iukI ; 
 TriiK mi) Ihcy novn I'.iund but in untruth, 
 t^iimliiiil ill untiiiht Iml in iiiii^nnlinicit, 
 
 l>cvourln|{ oiinkiti-* of nuum llliorly." i^\g r. a. 
 
 fn>o piny Just quotc<l wnn no ilouht wrltton several 
 
SCENE ir. 
 
 THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 335 
 
 words are feigned, their eyes forged, their sighs* 
 dissembled, their looks counterfeit, their hair 
 false, their given hopes deceitful, their very 
 breath artificial : their blood is their only god ; 
 bad clothes, and old age, are only the devils they 
 tremble at. That I could rail now ! 
 
 Enter PiETEO, his sword drawn. 
 
 Pietro. A mischief fill thy throat, thou foul- 
 jaw'd slave ! 
 Say thy prayers. 
 
 Men. I ha' forgot 'em. 
 
 Pietro. Thou shalt die. 
 
 Men. So shalt thou. I am heart-mad. 
 
 Pietro. I am horn-mad. 
 
 Men. Extreme mad. 
 
 Pietro. Monstrously mad. 
 
 Men. Whyl 
 
 Pietro. Why 1 thou, thou bast dishonoured my 
 bed. 
 
 Men. I ! Come, come, sit ; t here's my bare 
 heart to thee. 
 As steady as is the centre to this J glorious woi'ld : 
 And yet, hark, thou art a cornuto, — but by me'? 
 
 Pietro. Yes, slave, by thee. 
 
 Men. Do not, do not with tart and spleenful 
 breath 
 Lose him can lose thee. I offend my duke ! 
 Bear record, ye dumb and raw-air'd nights, 
 How vigilant my sleepless eyes have been 
 To watch the traitor ! record, thou spirit of truth, 
 With what debasement I ha' thrown myself 
 To under-offices, only tp leax'n 
 The truth, the party, time, the means, the place, 
 By whom, and when, and where thou wert 
 
 disgrac'd ! 
 And am I paid with slave ? hath my intrusion 
 To places private and prohibited, 
 Only to observe the closer passages, 
 Heaven knows with vows of revelation. 
 Made me suspected, made me deem'd a villain 1 
 What rogue hath wrong'd us ] 
 
 Pietro. Mendoza, I may err. 
 
 Men. Err ! 'tis too mild a name: but err and err, 
 Rim giddy with suspect, 'fore through me thou 
 
 know 
 That which most creatures, save thyself, do know : 
 
 years before it was given to the press. ) So also in a volutnc 
 of poems by Philij) Jenkins, entitled Amorea, 1660 : 
 "What, only constant in vMconstancie ? 
 And true alone to mutability?" p. 52. 
 * .si^/''] Eotli 4to3. "sights"; and, indeed, so the word 
 was sometimes written, 
 t sif] Qy. "sir"? 
 
 t the centre to this] The iirst 4to. " this center to this ; " 
 the second 4to. " this centre to the." 
 
 Nay, since my service hath so loath'd reject, 
 'Fore 1'11,1-eveal, shalt find them dipt* together. 
 
 Pietro. Mendoza, thou knowest I am a most 
 plain-breasted man. 
 
 Men. The fitter to make a cornuto : "t- would 
 your brows were most plain too ! 
 
 Pietro. Tell me : indeed, I heard thee rail — 
 
 Men. At women, true : why, what cold phlegm 
 could choose. 
 Knowing a lord so honest, virtuous. 
 So boundless loving, bounteous, fair-shap'd, sweet. 
 To be contemn'd, abus'd, defam'd, made cuckold 1 
 Heart ! I hate all women for't : sweet sheets, wax 
 lights, antic bed-posts, cambric smocks, villanous 
 curtains, ari'as pictures, oiled hinges, and all the J 
 tongue-tied lascivious witnesses of great creatures' 
 wantonness, — -what salvation can you expect? 
 
 Pietro. Wilt thou tell me ? 
 
 Men. Why, you may find it yourself; observe, 
 obseiwe. 
 
 Pietro. I ha' not the patience : wilt thou de- 
 seiwe me, § tell, give it. 
 
 Men. Take't : why, Ferneze is the man, Fer- 
 neze : I'll prove't ; this night you shall take him 
 in your sheets : will 't serve ] 
 
 Pietro. It will ; my bosom's in some peace : till 
 night — 
 
 Men. Whati 
 
 Pietro. Farewell. 
 
 Men. God ! how weak a lord are you ! 
 Wh}^ do you think there is no more but so ? 
 
 Pietro. Why ! 
 
 Men. Nay, then, will I presume to counsel you : 
 It should be thus. You with some guard upon 
 
 the sudden 
 Break into the princess' chamber : I stay behind. 
 Without the door, through which he needs must 
 
 pass : 
 Fei'neze flies ; let him : to me he comes ; he's kill'd 
 By me, observe, by me : you follow : I rail. 
 And seem to save the body. Duchess comes, 
 On whom (respecting her advanced birth. 
 And your fair nature), I know, nay, I do know. 
 No violence must be us'd ; she comes : I storm, 
 I praise, excuse Ferneze, and still maintain 
 The duchess' honour : she for this loves me. 
 I honour you ; shall know her soul, you mine : 
 Then naught shall she contrive in vengeance 
 (As women are most thoughtful in revenge) 
 Of her Ferneze, but you shall sooner know't 
 
 * dipt] i.e. joined in embraces. 
 
 t cormitol The second 4to. "cucMdc.' 
 
 I tJie] The first 4to. "-t/ee." 
 
 § deserve 7)ie] i. e. deserve of me. 
 
33G 
 
 THE ^ULCONTENT. 
 
 Tkaii she can think't. Tbiu Bball bis death come 
 
 euro, 
 Your duchoBS broin-caugbt : bo your life secure. 
 
 Ptftro. It U too well : my bosom and my heart, 
 When iiothiug helps, cut off the rotten part. 
 
 [KjcU. 
 
 Men. Who cannot feign friendship can ne'er 
 produce the effects of hatred. Honest fool duke! 
 subtle lascivious duchess! silly novice Femezo I 
 I do laugh at ye. >V^- tujin Ijl mi labour till i t 
 pryhi f«' mixchif f. nn.J I fi'^ -l fuJ<1cii thr oes. {)roof8 
 ■t'A^.i.!.,- d.i- i~->io ii] »t. l.miil. 
 A* bi-arn bha|>e youn^;, so I'll form my device. 
 Which grown proves horrid : vengeance makes 
 men wi'C. [Exit. 
 
 "SCENE III* 
 
 'Stttfr Mjki.RVcii.K and PAS.«Alt».l.u>. 
 " Mai. Fool, most happily encountered : canst 
 •■ sing, fool ! 
 
 " Ptut. Yes, I can sing, fool, if you'll bear the 
 
 " burden ; and I can play upon instruments, 
 
 •' scunrily, na gentlemen do. O, that I had been 
 
 '• gcldixl I I should then have been n fut fool for 
 
 iber, a ixjucaking fool for a tavern, and ii 
 
 ■■• fool for all the latlies. 
 
 " Mill. You are in good case since you came to 
 
 ' court, fool : what, giiar<led, piarded ! t 
 
 " J'oMi, Yes, faith, oven as footmen ami bawds 
 "w<«r vclrcl, not for an ornament of honour, 
 " but for a bad+;i? of drudgery ; for, n.iw the duke 
 "i* di*eontoutcd, I am fain to foi.l liim ;is)..op 
 ■■cv«»ry night. 
 
 " Mai. What are his griofa ; 
 '• Pau. He bath sore eyes. 
 ■• MaL I never observo<i so much. 
 " Pom. Horrible sum eyes ; an<l so hath every 
 M. for U»e root* of the horns spring ill tlie 
 ■ I*, and that's th«« reason tlio h<iiu of a 
 11 is a<i tender an his ejo, or as that 
 .-' ifi lh» womait'a foreliead twelve yt-ars 
 I Uiit endure to bo touched. 
 wii liihii.ud likiincolumbiiiu. 
 
 •■« ftart 
 
 ■ ■■ ItctuI wns 
 
 I <»woii, ufl.Un 
 
 ' "f lior is III 
 
 'lot, eiillUea. 
 
 ItM* Irut IINlt 
 
 "<« •« Unuton, 
 
 "Mai. Passarello, why do great men beg 
 "fools!* 
 
 "Pau. As the Welshman stole rushes, when 
 •' there was nothing else to filch ; only to keep 
 "begging in fa-shion. 
 
 "Mai. Pooh, thou gi vest no good reason ; thou 
 " Fpcakest like a fool. 
 
 " Pau. Faith, I utter small fragments, as your 
 "knight courts your city widow with jingling of 
 "his gilt spurs, advancing his bush-coloured 
 " beard,t and taking tobacco : this is all the 
 "mirror of their knightly compliments.^ Nay, I 
 "shall talk when my tongue is agoing once; 'tis 
 " like a citizen on horse-back, evermore in a false 
 "gallop. 
 
 "Mai. And how doth Macquerelle fare now-a- 
 "days? 
 
 " Pass. Faith, I was wont to salute her as our 
 " English women are at their first lauding in 
 " Flushing ; § I would call her whore : but now 
 " that antiquity leaves her as an old piece of 
 "pla.stic|| to work by, I only ask her how her 
 ■' rotten teeth fare every morning, and so leave 
 "her. She was the first that ever invented 
 "perfumed smocks for the gentlewomen, and 
 " woollen shoes, for fear of creaking, for the visitant. 
 "She were an excellent lady, but that her face 
 " peeleth like Muscovy glass.H 
 
 "/" th't agt 0/ thrtffcort ymrtf or thtrtahovt$, in the micUl of 
 tehote forrhead there growtth out a crooted Home of four 
 ifnchrt Ump. Itnprinttd at London, hy Thomat Orvin, and 
 art to Ik told hy Edward White, dwelling at the little north 
 dure of Fault* Church, at the *>ffne of the Gun, 15SS." 
 0. Gilchrist. 
 
 If she is tlio pereon iilluded to, this additional sccuo 
 must liavo Vicon eoniposod about 1000. 
 
 • tirp/ooh] i.e. apply to become thoir (ninrdinns, and 
 to enjoy tlio protit-s of thoir Inuds ; wliicli, under tho 
 writ, ill tliu old coiiiniou law, dt idiiita inqttirnnlo, ini(tht 
 be gnintcd by tlio kinj; to any subject, 
 
 < trilh jinijliitii 0/ /n> j/ilt fpiirs, adraucint) hit huih- 
 colourtd btaril] The KnllantJi of the tlnio eouHidorod it high 
 fiuthioii to wear Kpurs wbieh jint;lotl as they walked. — I 
 hero fiilluw the tost of my own copy of the ticcond 4to. : 
 tho copy in llie tiarrick CoUoctiou (tht immr edition) has 
 " iri/A sitintthing ij;' hij puilt : »i>;n< aduailcinK' his high- 
 colorod beard." 
 
 t eomi>liiHeHt»] I e. ncoompUHhmouts. 
 
 { (It KUr lti,iili*/i trumrn are at their Artt landing in 
 Fl,ii/,„i<i] '• At this tinio fliit),ini) was in the hands of 
 thp InifllHli na pm-t of tho neoiuity for luonoy advanced 
 l\ i.'u.iii i:li/:iUth to the Dutch. Tho ((ovcnior and 
 ^•iiiri«,in wore all KnKli«hiiH'n."— /(m/. 
 
 II an old jiirtr nf i^aMie] "i.o. an ancient nuclei made Of 
 wax or el«y. by which an arti»t iniK'ht work."— Sfmrn*. 
 
 •1 .Mu»coiyglatt] I.e. talc. Hoi-e Hood cites tho follow- 
 ll<tf |>aiuut|{eii ; 
 
 " In the piMvliuo of Corolla, and nlioiit tho river 
 "Diiyna towanU the North noa. there im>woth a »ott 
 "rtioko which they call SIndo. Thi« thoy cut into 
 •• plooos, Olid so tour It into ihln/dAv*, which naluralli^ it 
 
THE MALCOXTENT. 
 
 337 
 
 " Mai. And how doth thy old lord, that hath 
 "wit enough to be a flatterer, and conscience 
 " enough to be a knave ? 
 
 " Pass. 0, excellent : he keeps beside me fifteen 
 "jesters, to instruct him in the art of fooling, 
 "and utters their jests in private to the duke 
 " and duchess : he'll lie like to your Switzer 
 "or lawyer ; he'll be of any side for most 
 " money. 
 
 " Mah I am in haste, be brief. 
 
 " Pass. As your fiddler when he is paid. — He'll 
 " thrive, I warrant you, while your young courtier 
 "stands like Good- Friday in Lent; men long to 
 "see it, because more fatting days come after it j 
 
 ' else he's the leanest and pitifnllest actor in tlie 
 ' whole pageant. Adieu, Malevole. 
 
 "Mai. \aside\ world most vile, when thy 
 " loose vanities, 
 'Taught by this fool, do make the fool seem 
 " wise ! 
 
 " Pa^s. You'll know me again, Malevole. 
 
 " Mai. 0, ay, by that velvet. 
 
 "Pass. Ay, as a pettifogger by his buckram 
 'bag. I am as common in the court as an 
 'hostess's lips in the country; knights, and 
 ' clowns, and knaves, and all share me : the 
 ' court cannot possibly be without me. Adieu, 
 ' Malevole." [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 SCENE I.* 
 
 Enter Mexdoza leith o. iconce,\ to observe Ferneze's en- 
 trance, ulto. tchilst the act U playing, enters unln-aceil, 
 Two Pages before him with li/:hts: is met hy Maque- 
 RELLE and conveyed in ; the Pages are J sent away. 
 
 Men. He's caught, the woodcock's head is i'the 
 noose. 
 Now treads Femeze in dangerous path of lust, 
 Swearing his sense is merely § deified : 
 The fool grasps clouds, and shall beget Centaurs : 
 And now, in strength of panting faint delight. 
 The goat bids heaven envy him. Good goose, 
 I can affoi-d thee nothino; 
 
 " is apt for, and so use it for glasse lanthorns and such 
 "like. It giveth both inwards and outwards a clearer 
 "light then glasse, and for this respect is better than 
 " either glasse or home ; for that it neither breaketh Uke 
 "glasse, nor yet will b»irne like the lanthome." 
 
 Giles Fletcher's Russe Commonwealth, 1591, p. 10. 
 " They have no English glass : of slices of a rocke, 
 "Sight Slv.da, they their windowes make, that English 
 
 glass doth mocke. 
 They cut it very thinne, and sow it with a thred 
 In pre tie order, like to panes, to serve their present 
 
 neede : 
 Xo other glasse, good faith, doth give a better light. 
 And sxire the rocke is nothing rich, the cost is very 
 slight." 
 Tiu-bervile's Letter to Spenser, Hachluyt, 15S9, p. 410. 
 * Seme /.] Ante-chamber to the apartments of the 
 Duchess in the palace, 
 t sconce] Le. lantern. 
 
 X the pages are"] The first 4to. " the i>u<c?i«j pages." 
 § -merely] i.e. absolutely. 
 
 But the poor comfort of calamity, pity. 
 Lust's like the plummets hanging on clock-lines. 
 Will ne'er ha' done till all is quite undone ; 
 Such is the course salt sallow lust doth run ; 
 Which thou shalt try. I'll be reveng'd. Duke, 
 
 thy suspect ; 
 Duchess, thy disgi-ace; Ferneze, thy rivalship; 
 Shall have swift vengeance. Nothing so holy, 
 No band of nature so strong, 
 No law of friendship so sacred, 
 But I'U profane, burst, violate, 'fore I'll 
 Endure disgrace, contempt, and poverty. 
 Shall I, whose very hum struck all heads bare. 
 Whose face made silence, creaking of whose shoe 
 Forc'd the most private passages fly ope. 
 Scrape like a servile dog at some latch'd door? 
 Learn now to make a leg, and cry " Beseech ye. 
 Pray ye, is such a lord within ?" be aw'd 
 At some odd usher's scofiF'd formality ? 
 First sear my brains ! Unde cadis, non quo, 
 
 refert ; * 
 My heart cries, " Perish all ! " How ! how ! what 
 
 fate 
 Can once avoid revenge, that's desperate? 
 I'll to the duke : if all should ope — if! tush, 
 Fortune still dotes on those who cannot blush, 
 
 \Exxt. 
 
 * Unde cadis, non qvx>, refert] 
 
 " Magis unde cadas, 
 Quam quo, refert." Seneca, — JV<^c«f^925. 
 
338 
 
 THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 Acrr ir. 
 
 SCENE II.« 
 
 JinUr Malevou: at ont door: Buiica, Bmiua. auJ 
 ILaqUEHELU at Iht other door. 
 
 Mai. Blosa ye, out o' ladies ! f— Ua, djpsas ! t 
 bow JoHt thou, old coal ' 
 
 ^faq. Old cool ! 
 
 Mai. Ay, old coal : methiuks thou licat like a 
 brand unJcrthe^o} billeta of green wood. He 
 that will inflame a young wench'a heart, let him 
 lay close to her un oKl coal that hath first been 
 fired, a paiidcreK8, uiy half-burnt lint, who though 
 thou canst nut floino tbyBclf, yet art able to set a 
 thousand virgins' tupers afire. — And how doesH 
 JauiTere thy hu.*boud, my little periwinkle? is 
 he troublwi with the cough o' the lungs still? 
 do«« he hawk o'nights fitiU ? ho will not bite. 
 
 Bian. No, by uiy trotli, I took him with his 
 moulli empty of oM teeth. 
 
 3fal. Ami ho took thee with thy belly full of 
 young bonea : marry, ho took his maim by the 
 ■truke of hii enemy. 
 
 Hian. Aud I mine by the stroke of my 
 friend. 
 
 Mai. The close stock ! H mortal wench ! 
 La'iy, ha' yo now no restoratives for your decayed 
 Jaaoual** look ye, crab's guts baked, distilled 
 ox pith, the pulverized hairs of a lion's upper-lip, 
 jelly of cock-8pftrrow8, heinoukty's* mnrrow, or 
 powder of fox-stooaQ)— And whither are all ft 
 you ambliug now f 
 
 "f la<lte*. (Dodsluy, 
 1 lioro, priiitod "cluule 
 'lnwu from falconry: 
 thoir prldo 
 
 nil ii|> aljiiva iimiia (tight, 
 
 .„ ..ko) 
 'her atriko. 
 I lior wiiitia 
 --wii, slUK*,— 
 
 M 
 
 - ' T flight " 
 
 ', p. DO, jirintod 
 
 II...10 wlioin It lilt Wore 
 I "I; iioucc Lucaii, "(orru/a 
 
 Bian. Why,* to bed, to bed. 
 
 3fal. Do your husbands lie with ye ? 
 
 Biati. That were country fashion, i'fuith. 
 
 Mai. Ha' ye no foregocrs about you ! come, 
 whitlier in good deed, la, now? 
 
 Maq.f In good indeed, la, now, to eat the most 
 miraculously, admirably, astouishable composed 
 posset with three curds, without any drink. Will 
 ye help me with a he-fox ? — Here's the duke. 
 
 " Mai. Fried frogs are very good, and Fi-ench- 
 " like too." [E.ceunt Ladies. 
 
 Enter PlETRO, CeLSO, EQUATO, BuJOSO, FeRBARDO, aiiil 
 
 Mexdoza. 
 
 Pietro. The night grows deep and foul : what 
 hour is't ? 
 
 CtUo. Upon the stroke of twelve. 
 
 Mai. Save ye, duke ! 
 
 Pietro. From thee: be gone, I do not love thee; 
 let mo see thee no more ; we are displeased. 
 
 Mai. Why, God b'wi' thee !^ Heaven hear my 
 curse, — may tby wife and thee live long together! 
 
 Pietro. Be gone, sirrah ! 
 
 Mai. When Arthur first in court began,^ — Aga- 
 memnon — Menelaus — was ever any duke a cor- 
 uuto? 
 
 Pietro. Be gone, hence ! 
 
 Mai. What religion wilt thou bo of next ? 
 
 Men. Out with him ! 
 
 Mai. With most servile patience. — Time will 
 como 
 Wlien wonder of thy error will strike dumb 
 Thy bezzledll sense. — 
 
 The slave's in favour : ay, marry, shall he rise :^ 
 Good God! how subtle hell doth flatter vice! 
 Mounts** him aloft, aud makes him seem to fly, 
 As fowl tlio tortoise mock'd, who to tiio sky 
 The ambitious shell-fish niis'd ! the end of all 
 la only, that from height he might dead fall. 
 
 " BiL Why, whon?+f out, ye roguo! be gone, 
 "ye rascal! 
 
 "Mai. I sliall now leave yo with all my best 
 
 " Bit. Out, ye our I [" wishes. 
 
 • IlViy] Not ill tlie Boooud 4to. 
 
 f -WcKj.) Tlio Hwoitd 4to. jfivos thU «po<K-li to Dianca. 
 
 J b'iri' lliet] Tlio socoud 4U>. " tn Kith Ihet." 
 
 I U'hm .4rtl,ur, ic ] " TliU outiro Iwllad (which 
 KttUtiiff IlkowlHo bo^'iiii to hIiik' in tho Socoud Part of 
 KtHfi Hrniy I r.) ia [luliUiihcd in tho tlrat voUuuo of Dr. 
 Voroytt Hd,<iiui qr Aueifnt KniilitA Po<tr)t."—K^<t. 
 
 II UuM] 1.0. IkwiiIUhI : to bruU is ti> ilrint horJ. 
 
 H The $lafH't in favour: iiy, marri/, shall hi rite) Tlio 
 tnio roodliig horo 1« uiicorlnin. Tho 4toa. hnvo " ttaues I 
 '■••"..Mr, / mnrry thiill he ri*t," Ao. Dodiiluy gttvo " SkvoS 
 
 iiivoiir, iimrry, nhull <iri*," Ac. 
 
 *• Mounli] Tho Unit 4to. "inomU." 
 
 f f when I 8oo iioto *, i>. 08. 
 
SCENE III. 
 
 THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 339 
 
 "Mai. Ouly let's hold together a firm corre- 
 
 " Bil. Out! ["spondence. 
 
 "Mai. A mutual *-friendly-reciprocal-perpetual 
 " kiud of steady-unanimous-heartily-leagued — 
 
 '' Bil. Hence, ye gross-jawed, peasantly — out, go! 
 
 " Mai. Adieu, pigeon-house ; thou burr, that 
 " only stickest to nappy fortunes. The serj^igo, 
 "the strangury, an eternal unefFectual priapism 
 " seize thee ! 
 
 " Bil. Out, rogue ! 
 
 ''Mai. Mayst thou be a notorious -wittoUy 
 " pander to thine own wife, and yet get no office, 
 " but live to be the utmost misery of mankind, a 
 " beggarly cuckold ! " \_Exit. 
 
 Pielro. It shall be so. 
 
 Men. It must be so, for where great states 
 revenge, 
 'Tis rec[uisite the parties with piety 
 And soft respect ever be closely dogg'd.f 
 Lay one into his breast shall sleep with him, 
 Feed in the same dish, run in self-faction, 
 Who may discover + any shape of danger ; 
 For once disgrac'd, displayed § in offence. 
 It makes man blushless, and man is (all confess) 
 More prone to vengeance than to gratefulness. 
 Favoui'3 are writ in dust ; but stripes we feel 
 Depraved nature stamps in lasting steel. 
 
 Pktro. You shall be leagu'd with the duchess. 
 
 Equate. The plot is very good. 
 
 Pietro.W You shall both kill, and seem the corse 
 
 Per. A most fine brain-trick. [to save. 
 
 Celso. \aside\ Of a most cunning knave. 
 
 Pktro. My lords, the heavy action we intend 
 Is death and shame, two of the ugliest shapes 
 That can confound a soul ; think, think of it : 
 I strike, but yet, like him that 'gainst stone walls 
 Directs, his shafts rebound in his own face ; 
 My lady's shame is mine, God, 'tis mine ! 
 Therefore I do conjure all secrecy : 
 Let it^ be as very little as may be. 
 Pray ye, as may be. 
 
 * A mutual, &c.] Bilioso's words in p. 332. 
 t 'Tis requisite the parties with piety 
 And soft respect ever be closely dogg'd] The 4tos. have ; 
 " Tis requisite, the parts [sec. 4to. "partes"] with piety 
 And soft [sec. 4to. "loft"] respect forbeares, be closely 
 dogd," &c. 
 It seems impossible to ascertain what the author really 
 wrote. Mr. W. N. Lettsom proposes ; 
 
 " Men. It must be so, for where 
 
 Great states revenge, 'tis requisite the parties 
 With !!py of close suspect be closely dogg'd," &c. 
 J discover^ The first 4 to. "dissewr." 
 § displai/eii] The first 4to. " discouered." 
 |] Pitiru] The4tos. "Meud." 
 If it] i.e. the shame. 
 
 Make frightless entrance, salute her with soft eyes, 
 Stain naught with blood ; only Ferneze dies, 
 But not before her brows. gentlemen, 
 God knows I love her I Nothing else, but this : — 
 I am not well : if grief, that sucks veins dry, 
 Rivels the skin, oasts ashes in men's faces, 
 Be-dulls the eye, unstrengthens all the blood, 
 Chance to remove me to another woi"ld, 
 As sui-e I once must die, let him succeed : 
 I have no child ; all that my youth begot 
 Hath been your loves, which shall inherit me : 
 Which as it ever shall, I do conjure it, 
 ATgTirlmm. r.T^y t^upprpil ' lifi'ii iifflily * hwn ; 
 With me o f^iuucb d''^''''*^ 
 
 CeLo7[aside] Much ! t S^^"'^^^ 
 Pietro. Your silence answei's, "Ay :" 
 I thank you. Come on now. 0, that I might die 
 Before her shame's display 'd ! Mould I were 
 
 forc'd 
 To burn my father's tomb, unheal + his bones, 
 And dash them in the dirt, rather than this ! 
 This both the living and the dead ofi"ends : 
 Sharp surgery where naught but death amends. 
 
 lExeunt. 
 
 SCENE IIL§ 
 
 £nter Maqueeelle, Emilia, and Bianca, with a posset. 
 Maq. Even here it is, three curds in three 
 regions individually distinct, 
 Most methodically ll according to art compos'd, 
 without any drink. 
 Bian. Without any drink ! 
 Maq. Upon my honour. Will ye sit and eat 1 
 Eniil. Good the composure : the receijjt, how 
 
 is'tl 
 Maq. 'Tis a pretty pearl ; by this pearl, (how 
 does't with me?) thus it is. Seven and thirty 
 yolks of Barbary hens' eggs ; eighteen spoonfuls 
 and a half of the juice of cock-sparrow bones ; 
 one ounce, three drams, four scruples, and one 
 quarter of the syrup of Ethiopian dates ; 
 sweetened with three quarters of a pound of 
 pure candied Indian eringoes ; strewed over with 
 
 * nobhj] The second 4to. "noble." 
 
 t Mvxh .'] A contemptuous and ironical exclamation, 
 frequently used by our old dramatists, and expressing 
 denial. {"Much of that,"=Little or none of it.) 
 
 { v.nheaJ'] "i.e. uncovei-. To heal in Sussex signifies to 
 cover." — Steevens. — The first 4to. " unhill." 
 
 § Scene III.'] Antechamber to the apaftments of the 
 duchess in the same. 
 
 II mellMdically] The second 4to. " methodicall." 
 
340 
 
 THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 the powder of pearl of America, amber of Cataia, 
 and lauib-etones of Miucovia. 
 
 liian. Trust me, the ingrcdicnU are very 
 cordial, and, no questiou, good, and most power- 
 ful in restaumtion.* 
 
 Maq. I know not what you mean by n^staum- 
 tion ; but tliia it doth,— it purifieth the blood, 
 ■mootheth tlie fikin, onli veneth the eye, strcngthen- 
 etb the Tcina, mundiiieth tlie teeth, comforteth 
 the stomach, forti6eth the back, and quickeneth 
 the wit ; that 'a all. 
 
 EmvL By my troth, I have eaten but two 
 ■poonfulis, and methinka I could discourse most 
 ■wiftly an<l wittily already. 
 
 J/»7. Have you the art to seem honest ? 
 
 Itian. Ay, thank advice and practice. 
 
 Maq. Wiy, then, eat mc o' this posset, 
 quicken your blood, and preserve your beauty. 
 Do you know Doctor Plaster-face ? by this curd, 
 he i« the most exquisite in forging of veins, 
 •prightcning of eyes, dying of hair, sleeking of 
 skins, blushing of checks, surphling f of breasts, 
 blanching and bleaching of teeth, that ever made 
 an old lady gracious by torch-light; by this 
 cunl, la. 
 
 Bian. Well, J wo are resolved, what God baa 
 givin ua wo'U cherish. 
 
 Maq. Cherish any thing saving your husband ; 
 keep him not too high, lest ho leap tho pale : 
 but, for your beauty, let it bo your saint; 
 b«c|ucatl> two houn to it every morning in your 
 cIoMt. I ha' been young, and yet, in my con- 
 ■danoc, I am not above five-aud-twenty : but, 
 baiter* mo, preserve and use your beauty ; fur 
 youth and beauty once gone, wo are like bec- 
 bivM without honey, outo'-faahion apparel that 
 DO man will wear : therefore use mo your 
 beauty. 
 
 Emit. Ay, but men nay - 
 
 U<iq Ufii aay I let men aay what they will : 
 life o' wuuian ! they are ignorant of i.ur § wants. 
 The mom in year*, tho more in perfection thoy 
 gruw ; if they lotMj youth and beauty, th«y gain 
 wl»')i III niii! diitcrvtiou : but when our beauty 
 ' ' «ht with >w. There cannot lie an 
 
 *' to MO than an old wonuiii frnm 
 
 '>ni( 4to. "opornllim " 
 
 •ilinuixl, 
 
 • r."4;c. 
 
 - ••■ i IhU pluy 
 
 which, pruning, pinching, and painting, deliver 
 all sweet beauties ! [^Mutic within. 
 
 Bian, Hark ! music ! 
 
 Maq. Peace, 'tis i' the duchess' bed-chamber. 
 Good rest, most prosperously-graced ladies. 
 
 Emil. Good night, sentinel. 
 
 Jiian. Night, dear Maquerelle. 
 
 Maq. May my posset's operation send you my 
 wit and honesty ; and me, your youth and 
 beauty : the pleasingest rest ! 
 
 [Exeunt, at oiu door, Bianca and Emilia ; at anolfier, 
 
 MaQjUKRKT.I.F.. 
 
 A Song* within. 
 
 WhiM the tong it singing, enter Mexdoza vith hit »te<yrd 
 drawn, itanding ready to murder FtiRN'EZB at he fiiu 
 
 from the duchess' chamber. — Tuiuidt tcitkiii. 
 
 [Within.] Strike, strike ! 
 
 [Aur. within.] Save my Ferneze ! 0, save my 
 Feraeze ! 
 
 [ITtVAiH.] Follow, pursue ! 
 [Aur. within.] 0, save Ferneze ! 
 
 Entir Ferneze in his shirt, and is received ujion SIexdoza's 
 sicord. 
 
 Men. Pierce, pierco ! — Thou shallow fool, drop 
 
 there ! [Thrusts his rapier in Fernezk. 
 
 He that attempts a princess' lawless love 
 
 Must have broad hands, close heart, with Argus' 
 
 eyes. 
 
 And back of Hercules, or else ho dies. 
 
 £^i<?r AoRKi.iA, PiETRo, Ferrardo, Bi uoso, Cclso, anti 
 Equato. 
 
 All. Follow, follow! 
 
 Men. Stand off, forbear, ye most uncivil lords I 
 
 PiUro. Strike! 
 
 Men. Do not ; tempt not a man resolv'd : 
 
 [Mksdoza bt.ilriiUs the tcouiidrd hod ^ of 
 FsKNEZt:, and stems to save him. 
 
 Would you, inhuman murderera, more than 
 death ] 
 A'.ir. O i)oor Ferneze ! 
 Men. Alas, now all defence too late ! 
 A ur. He's dead. 
 
 Pittro. I am sorry for our shame. — Go to your 
 bed: 
 Weep not too much, but leave some tears to shod 
 When I am dead. 
 
 Aw. What, weep for thoo ! my soul no tears 
 
 shall find. 
 Pietro. Alas, aliuj, that women's souls are blind ! 
 Men. Botray auch beauty I 
 
 ■ 
 
 A Song] 8oo uoto f, p. 4i. 
 
S(JRNE III. 
 
 THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 341 
 
 Murder such youth ! contemn civility ! 
 He loves him not that rails not at him. 
 
 Pietro. Thou canst not move us : we have 
 blood enough. — 
 An please you, lady, we have quite forgot 
 All your defects : if not, why, then — 
 Aur. Not. 
 Pietro. Not: the best of rest ; good-night. 
 
 \_Exennt Pietro, Ferrardo, Bilioso, Celso, 
 and Equato. 
 
 Aur. Despite go with thee ! 
 
 Men. Madam, you ha' done me foul disgrace; 
 you have wronged him much loves you too much : 
 go to ; your soul knows you have. 
 
 Aur. I think I have. 
 
 Men. Do you but think so ? 
 
 Aur. Nay, sure, I have : my eyes have witnessed 
 thy love : thou hast stood too firm for me. 
 
 Men. Why, tell me, fair-cheeked lady, who 
 even in tears art powerfully beauteous, what un- 
 advised passion struck ye into such a violent heat 
 against me ? Speak, what mischief wronged us ? 
 what devil injured usi speak. 
 
 Aur. The thing ne'er worthy of the name of 
 man, Ferneze ; 
 Ferneze swore thou lov'[d]st Emilia ; 
 Which to advance, with most reproachful breath 
 Thou both didst blemish and denounce my love. 
 
 Men. Ignoble villain ! did I for this bestride 
 Thy wounded limbs ? for this rank opposite 
 Even to my sovereign ? * for this, God, for this. 
 Sunk all my hopes, and with my hopes my life 1 
 Eipp'd bare my throat unto the hangman's axe ? — 
 Thou most dishonour'd trunk ! — Emilia ! 
 By life, I know her not — Emilia ! — 
 Did you believe him ] 
 
 Aur, Pardon me, I did. 
 
 Men. Did you 1 and thereupon you gi-aced him 1 
 
 Aur. I did. 
 
 Men. Took him to favour, nay, even clasp 'd 
 with him ? 
 
 A ur. Alas, I did ! 
 
 Men. This night 1 
 
 A ur. This night. 
 
 Men. And in your lustful twines the duke 
 took you ? 
 
 Aur. A most sad truth. 
 
 Men. God, God ! how we dull honest 
 souls, 
 Heavy-brain'd men, are swallow'd in the bogs 
 Of a deceitful ground ! whilst nimble bloods, 
 
 for this rank opposite 
 Even to my sovereign ?] Not in the second 4to. 
 
 Light-jointed spirits speed , * cut good men's 
 
 throats, 
 And scape. Alas, I am too honest for this age. 
 Too full of phlegm and heavy steadiness ; 
 Stood still whilst this slave cast a noose about 
 
 me; 
 Nay, then to stand in honour of him and her, 
 Who had even slic'd my heart ! 
 
 Aur. Come, I did err, 
 And am most sorry I did err. 
 
 Men. Why, we are both but dead : the duke 
 hates us ; 
 And those whom princes do once groundly hate, 
 Let them provide to die, as sure as fate. 
 Prevention is the heart of policy. 
 
 Aur. Shall we murder him? 
 
 Men. Instantly? 
 
 Aur. Instantly ; before he casts a plot, 
 Or further blaze my honour's much-known blot. 
 Let's murder him. 
 
 Men. I would do much for you : will ye marry 
 me? 
 
 Aur. I'll make thee duke. We are of Medicis ; 
 Florence our friend ; in court my faction + 
 Not meanly strengthful ; the duke then dead ; 
 We well prepar'd for change ; the multitude 
 Irresolutely reeling ; we in force ; 
 Our party seconded ; the kingdom maz'd ; 
 No doubt of J swift success all shall be grac'd. 
 
 Men. You do confirm me ; we are resolute : 
 To-morrow look for change ; rest confident. 
 'Tis now about the immodest waist of night : 
 The mother of moist dew with pallid light 
 SjDreads gloomy shades about the numbed earth. 
 Sleep, sleep, whilst we contrive our mischief's 
 
 birth. 
 This man I'll get inhum'd. Farewell : to bed ; 
 Ay, kiss thy § pillow, dream the duke is dead. 
 So, so, good night. [Exit Aukelia. 
 
 How fortune dotes on impudence ! || 
 I am in private the adopted son 
 Of yon good prince : 
 I must be duke ; why, if I must, I must. 
 Most silly lord, name me ! heaven ! I see 
 God made honest fools to maintain crafty knaves. 
 
 * spe€rl'\ The first 4to. "pent," the second "spent." — 
 The reading in the text is Dodsley's, — and a doubtful one. 
 t in court my faction, <fec.] "I would recommend the 
 following regulation, &c., of this speech : 
 
 ' in court my faction 
 
 Not meanly streugthen'd (the duke then being dead) 
 
 Were well prepar'd for change.' " — Steevens. 
 i of] i.e. with. 
 
 § thy] The second 4to. *' the." 
 11 How fortune dotes on impudence .'] So at p. 3.37 ; 
 
 " Fortune still dotes on those who cannot blush." 
 
342 
 
 THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 ACT If. 
 
 The duchcM U wholly mine too ; muet kill her 
 
 hiubnnd 
 To quit her tibamo; much ! * then mnrry her: ay. 
 O, I grow proud in prosperous treachery ! 
 As wre«tlcr.< clip.t bo I'll embraco you all, 
 Not to support, but to procure your fall. 
 
 Rixirr MAi.rvoi.K. 
 
 MaL God arrc«t thee ! 
 
 Mn\. At wliose Kuit ? 
 
 Mai At the devil's. Ah, you treacherous 
 damnable monster, how do.st ? how dost, thou 
 treachcrou« rogue? Ah, ye rascal ! I am baniahed 
 the court, sirrali. 
 
 J/rn. Pritliee, let's bo acquainted; I do love 
 thee, faith. 
 
 Med. At your serrice, by the Lord, la : shall's 
 go to supper f Let's be once drunk together, and 
 ■0 unite a most virtuously-strengtiiened friend- 
 ship : shaH'H, Huguenot? shall's? 
 
 Men, Wilt fall upon my chamber to-morrow 
 mom? 
 
 Mai. As a raven to a dunghill. They say 
 there's one dead here ; i)ricked for the pride of 
 the flesh. 
 
 Mfn. Femezo : there he is ; prithee, bury him. 
 
 Mai. 0, moBt willingly : I mean to turn pure 
 Rochellc churchman,* I. 
 
 -Vol. Thipu churchman ! why, why? 
 
 Mai IWcauie I'll live laiily, rail upon authority, 
 deny kin^' 8U|>r«macy in things indifferent, and 
 ba a {tope in mine own parinh. 
 
 Men. Wherefore doet thou think churches were 
 BUkdef 
 
 M^L To scour plough -shares: I ha'§ Roenoxen 
 plough up altars; H nunc legu ubi Sion/uitW 
 
 • -"'' ■' •*• '- ' I.. S3fl. 
 
 1 
 
 ; * /r-^;./«<w»«atthUtliiiohoI.l by 
 
 - with llio|.rivllc(fo>«fpr<>- 
 Mml It woa twftlcKoJ. In 
 Ml aiicoviM ; but foil 
 I Old, nltor n luiig, 
 
 
 " A<l Kt. ' 
 
 .ft»t\ " Jam nciro* eat ubI Troja 
 
 i .'.3 
 
 Meii. Strange! 
 
 Mai. Nay, monstrous ! I ha' seen a sumptuous 
 steeple turned to a stinking privy ; more beastly, 
 the sacrede.st place made a dogs' kennel ; nay, most 
 inhuman, the stoned coffins of long-dead Chris- 
 tians burst up, and made hogs' troughs : hicfinu 
 Priami.* Shall I ha' some sack and cheese at 
 thy chamber? Good night, good mL«chievoua 
 incarnate devil ; good night, Mendoza ; ah, ye 
 inhuman villain, good night ! night, fub. 
 
 Men. Good night : to-morrow mom? 
 
 Mai. Ay, I will come, friendly damnation, I will 
 come. [Exit Mexdoz.v.] I do descry cross-points; 
 honesty and courtship straddle as far asunder as 
 a true Frenchman's legs. 
 
 Fcr. 0! 
 
 Mai. Proclamations ! more proclamations ! 
 
 Per. ! a surgeon ! 
 
 Mai. Hark! lust cries for a surgeon. What 
 news from Limbo? how doest the grand cuckold, 
 Lucifer 1 
 
 Per. 0, help, help ! conceal and pave me. 
 
 [Fernese sHts, and Malevole lieljm liini up. 
 
 Mai. Thy shame more than thy wounds do 
 grieve me far : 
 Tliy wounds but leave upon thy flesh some scar ; 
 But fame ne'er heals, still rankles worse and worse ; 
 Such is of uncontrolled lust the curse. 
 Think what it is in lawless sheets to lie ; 
 IJut, Ferueze, what in lust to die ! 
 Tlien thou that shamo respect'st, 0, fly converse 
 With women's eyes and lisping wantonness ! 
 Stick candles 'gainst a virgin wall's white back. 
 If they not burn, yet at the least they'll black. 
 Coino, 111 convoy thee to a private port, 
 Where thou shalt live (0 happy man .') from court. 
 The beauty of the day begins to rise, 
 From whose bright form night's heavy shadow flies. 
 Now gin close plots to work ; the scene grows full. 
 And craves his eyes who hath a solid skull. 
 
 ( £lri(, eonveyino FuufUE away. 
 
 • hirjinit Piiami] "Hncfiiiia Priami fatorum." Kiryi/, 
 — .««. 11. f.54. 
 t doti] Tho Hccond 4to. "dooth." 
 
 II 
 
 I 
 
THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 343 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 SCENE I.* 
 
 Enter Pieteo, Mendoza, Equato, and Bilioso. 
 
 Pietro. 'Tis grown to youth of day : bow shall 
 we waste this light ? 
 My heai't's more heavy than a tyrant's crown. 
 Shall we go hunt 1 Prepare for field. 
 
 [Exit Eqitato. 
 
 Men. Would ye could be merry ! 
 
 Pietro. Would God I could ! Mendoza, bid 'em 
 haste. {Exit Mendoza. 
 
 I would fain shift place ; vain relief ! 
 Sad souls may well change place, but not change 
 
 grief : 
 As deer, being struck, fly thorough many soils,+ 
 Yet still the shaft sticks fast, so 
 
 Bil. A good old simile, my honest lord. 
 ' Pietro. I am not much unlike to some sick man 
 That long desired hurtful drink ; at last 
 Swills in and drinks his last, ending at once 
 Both life and thirst. 0, would I ne'er had known 
 My own dishonour ! Good God, that men should 
 
 desire 
 To search out that, which, being found, kills all 
 Their joy of life ! to taste the tree of knowledge, 
 And then be driven from out paradise ! — 
 Canst give me some comfort ? 
 
 Bil. My lord, I have some books which have 
 been dedicated to my honour, and I ne'er read 'em, 
 and yet they had very fine names. Physic for 
 Fortune,X Lozenges of sanctified sincerity ; § very 
 pretty works of curates, scriveners, and school- 
 
 * Scrac /.] A room in the palace. 
 
 t soil's] i.e., 1 believe, streams. At least, to <a^« «oiZ was 
 a common hunting-term, meaning to take refuge in the 
 water. So Petowe in his Second Part of Hero and Zeander, 
 1598: 
 
 " The chased deare hath soUe to code his heate," &c. 
 See Appendix iii. to Marlowe's ]Vorks, iii. 344, ed. Dj-ce. 
 
 t PJiyslc for Fortune] " In 1579 was published a book, 
 entitled Physic against Fortune, as well jirosjyerous as 
 adverse, contained in two Books. Written in Latin by Francis 
 Petrarch, a most famous poet and oratour, and now first 
 Englished by Thomas Twyne. 4to. B. L." — Reed. 
 
 § Lozenges of sanctified sincerity'] "I have not met with 
 this book, but from the ridicule thrown out in The Wits, 
 I believe some one with a similar title had before 
 appeared. " — Reed. 
 
 The passage of Davenant's Wits, 1636, alluded to by 
 Eeed, is the following : 
 
 " 'A pill to purge phlebotomy,' — 'A balsamum 
 For the spii-itual back,' — 'A lozevge against lust." 
 
 Act ii. sc. 1. 
 
 masters. Marry, I remember one Seneca, Lucius 
 
 Annseus Seneca 
 
 Pietro. Out upon him ! he writ of tempei-ance 
 and fortitude, yet lived like a voluptuous epicure, 
 and died like an efifeminate coward. — Haste thee 
 to Florence : 
 
 Here, take our letters ; see 'em seal'd : away ! 
 Report in private to the honour'd duke 
 His daughter's forc'd disgrace; tell him at length 
 We know too much: due compliments* advance: 
 There's naught that's safe and sweet but igno- 
 rance. [Exit. 
 
 " Enter Bianca. 
 " Bil. Madam, I am going ambassador for 
 " Florence ; 'twill be great charges to me. 
 
 " Bian. No matter, my lord, you have the lease 
 " of two manors come out next Christmas ; you 
 " may lay your tenants on the greater rack for it : 
 " and when you come home again, I'll teach you 
 " how you shall get two hundred pounds a-year 
 " by your teeth. 
 
 " Bil. How, madam ? 
 
 " Bian. Cut off so much from house-keeping: 
 " that which is saved by the teeth, you know, is 
 " got by the teeth. 
 
 " Bil. 'Fore God, and so I may ; I am in won- 
 " drous credit, lady. 
 
 " Bian. See the use of flattei-y ; I did ever 
 " counsel you to flatter greatness, and you have 
 " profited well : any man that will do so shall be 
 " sure to be like your Scotch barnacle, + now a 
 " block, instantly a worm, and presently a great 
 " goose : this it is to rot and putrify in the bosom 
 " of greatness. 
 
 '* Bil. Thou art ever my politician. 0, how 
 " happy is that old lord that hath a politician to 
 '' his yoimg lady ! I'll have fifty gentlemen shall 
 " attend upon me : marry, the most of them 
 " shall be farmers' sons, because they shall bear 
 " their own charges; and they shall go apparelled 
 " thus, — in sea- water-green suits, ash-colour cloaks, 
 " watchetj stockings, and popinjay-green feathers: 
 " will not the colours do excellent ? 
 
 * compliments'] The first 4to. "complaints." 
 
 t Scotch barnacle, dc] See, concerning this fiction, the 
 
 notes of the commentators on the Tempest, act iv. sc. last. 
 
 Malone's Shakespeare, by Boswell, vol. xv., pp. 155-6. 
 X watchet] i.e. pale blue. 
 
344 
 
 THE SLVLCOXTENT. 
 
 ACT ni. 
 
 " Biau. Out upon't ! they'll look like citizens 
 " riiliug to their friend* at Whit«suutide ; their 
 " api'arcl juat bo many Bcveral parishes. 
 
 *• JiU. Ill have it so ; auJ Pajisarello, my fool, 
 " shall go along wilh me ; marry, ho shall be in 
 •• velvet. 
 
 " Bian, A fool in velvet! 
 
 " Bit. Ay, 'tis couiiuon for your fool to wear 
 " satin ; I'll have mine in velvet. 
 
 " Biam. Wlial will you wear, then, my lord? 
 
 ■ Bit. Velvet too ; marry, it shall be em- 
 " broidered, because I'll differ from the fool 
 " somewhat I am horribly troubled with the 
 '• guut : uoUiiug grieves me, but that my doctor 
 " hath forbidden mo wine, and you know your 
 " auibajModur must drink. Didbt thou a:ik thy 
 " diMTlor what was good for the gout ? 
 
 " Jltan. Yes ; he said, ejise, wine, and women, 
 " were good for it 
 
 " Bil. Nay, thou hast such a wit ! What was 
 " good to cure it, said he ? 
 
 " Bian, Wliv, the rack. All your empirics 
 " could never do the like cure upon the gout the 
 ** rmck did in England, or your Scotch boot* 
 * The French harlequin t will instruct you. 
 
 " Jill. Surely, I do wonder how thou, having 
 " for the most part of thy life-time been a country 
 " body, shouldst have so good a wit 
 
 " Bian. Who, I ? why, I have been a courtier 
 " thrico two months. 
 
 " Bil. So have I this twenty year, and yet 
 " there wiuayenllemauuiihLrcttlledme coxcomb 
 " frtlirr day, and to my face too : wos't not a 
 'Mling rahail f I would I wore better tra- 
 I, thftt 1 might have been better acquainted 
 " wilh the fashions of soveral countrymen : but 
 " my sot-rotar)-, I think, he hath sufficiently in- 
 " ktruct<.-U mc. 
 
 " Jltan. How, my lordl 
 
 " /hi 'Murry, my good lord,' quoth he, 'your 
 i ' l.ip hball over find amoug«t a hundi-od 
 liiiiou fo'riyliot-hhoU; amonj^st a liuudred 
 ooro bniggartM ; uuion^'st 
 
 " Bian. But since you go about a sad embassy, 
 " I would have you go in black, my lord. 
 
 " liU. Why, dost think I cannot mourn, unless 
 " I wear my hat in cipres,* like an alderman's 
 "heir? that's vile, very old, in faith. 
 
 " Bian. I'll learn of you shortly : 0, we should 
 " have a tine gallant of you, should not I instruct 
 "you! How will you bear yourself when you 
 "come into the Duke of Florence' court? 
 
 " Bil. Proud enough, and 'twill do well enough : 
 "as I walk up and down the chamber, I'll spit 
 " frowns about me, have a strong perfume in my 
 "jerkin, let my beard grow to make me look 
 '•terrible, salute no man beneath the fourth 
 " button ; and 'twill do excellent. 
 
 " Bian. But there is a very beautiful lady 
 "there; how will you entertain her? 
 
 " BiL I'll tell you that, when the lady hath 
 " entertained me : but to satisfy thee, hero comes 
 " the fool. 
 
 " Enter Passabelu). 
 " Fool, thou shall stand for the fair lady. 
 
 "Pans. Your fool will stand for your lady 
 " most willingly and most upi'ightly. 
 
 " Btl. I'll salute her in Latin. 
 
 "Pass. 0, your fool can understand no Latin. 
 
 " Bil. Ay, but your lady can. 
 
 "Pass. Why, then, if your lady take down 
 "your fool, your fool will stand no longer for 
 "your lady. 
 
 " Bil. A pestilent fool ! 'fore God, I think the 
 " world be turned upside down too. 
 
 " Pass. 0, no, sir ; for then your lady and all 
 "the Indies in the palace should go with their 
 " heels upwaid, and that were a strange sight, 
 "you know. 
 
 " Bil. There bo many will repine at my prefer- 
 " ment. 
 
 ''Pass. 0, i\y, like the envy of an elder sister, 
 " that hath her younger made a lady before her. 
 
 " lUl. The duke is woiulroiis diseontonted. 
 
 '■ Pass. Ay, luid moi-o molimcholic tlum n 
 
 in'ti, fonr-.ion) drunkardit ; I ' "''"'■^"*" I'aving all his money out at the death of 
 " a prince. 
 
 '' HU. Didst thou see Madam Floria to-day? 
 
 " Pass. Yes, I found her rei)airing her face to- 
 " day ; the red upon the white showed as if her 
 
 lU'liixl KnKli.hnien, four-Kcoro mu\ 
 " ; luj.l siuougBi Kit hundred Welsh- 
 
 ' Utt-U — - 
 
 ••/'i.i. What, my lonl? 
 
 ir.«ooro and nlnetoon gontlemen.' 
 
 .cry tH.«rgrful ileaiorl|iUou of the 
 I X iliU hxtnimoiii, iilveii In iho 
 
 • wy hat in eiprts] Ciprti (writtoD. also, ry/irr«, and 
 eypriu) ws« a flno kind of gauM, nearly tbo naiuo as 
 em\>e : 
 
 " (iorji OmIiUu of f\;iriu — 
 llui' HUiy. 1 .1,, not like that word eyprut, for sho'U 
 Uilnk 1 moan to inoko hiiUxuuU ofhor." 
 
 Bhlrloy's love-Trick*,— U'orkt, i 42 
 
SCENE I. 
 
 THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 345 
 
 "cheeks should have been served in for two 
 "dishes of barberries in stewed broth, and the 
 " flesh to them a woodcock. 
 
 " J3iL A bitter fool!* — Come, madam, this 
 "night thou shalt enjoy me freely, and to-morrow 
 "for Florence. 
 
 " Pass. What a natural fool is he that would 
 " be a pair of boddice to a woman's petticoat, to 
 " be trussed and pointed to them ! Well, I'll 
 " dog my lord ; and the word is proper : for when 
 " I fawn upon him, he feeds me ; when I snap 
 " him by the fingers, he spits in my mouth. If a 
 " dog's death were not strangling, I had rather be 
 " one than a serving-man ; for the corruption of 
 " coin is either the generation of a usurer or a 
 " lousy beggar. [Exeunt Bianca and Passaeello." 
 
 Bnter Malevole in some frize gown, whilst Bilioso reads 
 Jiis patent. 
 
 Mai. I cannot sleep ; my eyes' ill-neighbouring 
 lids 
 Will hold no fellowship. thou pale sober 
 
 night, 
 Thou that in sluggish fumes all sense dost steeji ; 
 Thou that giv'st all the world full leave to play, 
 Unbend' st the feebled veins of sweaty labour ! 
 The galley-slave, that all the toilsome day 
 Tugs at his oar agaiust the stubborn wave, 
 Straining his rugged veins, snores fast ; 
 The stooping scythe-man, that doth barbf the 
 
 field. 
 Thou mak'st wink sure : in night all creatm'es 
 
 sleep ; 
 Only the malcontent, that 'gainst his fate 
 Repines and quarrels, — alas, he's goodman tell- 
 
 clock ! 
 His sallow jaw-bones sink with wasting moan; 
 Whilst others' beds are down, his pillow's stone. 
 J3il. Malevole ! 
 
 Mai. Elder of Israel, thou honest defect of 
 wicked nature and obstinate ignorance, when did 
 thy wife let thee lie with her 1 
 
 £il. I am going ambassador to Florence. 
 Mai. Ambassador! Now, for thy country's 
 honour, prithee, do not put up mutton and 
 porridge i' thy cloak-bag. Thy young lady 
 wife goes to Florence with thee too, does she 
 not] 
 
 Bil. No, I leave her at the palace. 
 Mai. At the palace! Now, discretion shield, 
 man ; for God's love, let's ha' no more cuckolds ! 
 Hymen begins to put off his saffi'on robe : keep 
 
 * fool] The old ed. "fowl." 
 t barb] "i.e. mow." — Steevens. 
 
 thy wife i'the state of grace. Heart o' truth, I 
 would sooner leave my lady singled in a bordello 
 than in the Genoa palace : 
 Sin there appearing in her sluttish shape. 
 Would soon grow loathsome, even to blushes' 
 
 sense ; 
 Surfeit would choke * intemperate appetite. 
 Make the soul scent the rotten breath of lust. 
 When in an Italian lascivious palace, 
 A lady guardian-less, 
 Left to the push of all allurement. 
 The strongest incitements to immodesty, 
 To have her bound, iucens'd with wanton sweets. 
 Her veins fiU'd high with heating delicates, 
 Soft rest, sweet music, amorous masquerers, 
 Lascivious banquets, sin itself gilt-o'er. 
 Strong fantasy tricking up strange delights. 
 Presenting it dress' d pleasingly to sense, 
 Sense leading it unto the soul, confirm'd 
 With potent example, impudent custom, 
 Eutic'd by that great bawd, opportunity ; + 
 Thus being prepar'd, clap to her easy ear 
 Youth in good clothes, well-shap'd, rich. 
 Fair-spoken, promising, noble, ardent, blood-full, 
 Witty, flattering, — Ulysses absent, 
 Ithaca, can + chastest Penelope hold out 1 
 
 Bil. Mass, I'll think on't. Farewell. 
 
 Mai. Farewell. Take thy wife with thee. 
 Farewell. {Exit Bilioso. 
 
 To Florence ; um ! it may prove good, it may ; 
 And we may once unmask our brows. 
 
 Enter Celso. 
 Celso. My honour'd lord, — 
 Mai. Celso, peace ! how is't ] speak low : pale 
 fears 
 Suspect that hedges, walls, and trees, have ears : 
 Speak, how runs all ? 
 
 Celso. I'faith, my lord, that beast with many 
 heads. 
 The staggering multitude, recoils apace : 
 Though thorough great men's envy, most men's 
 
 malice, 
 Their much-intemperate heat hath banish'd you, 
 Yet now they find § envy and malice ne'er 
 Produce faint reformation. 
 
 * choice] The old eds. " cloake" s.nd. "cloke." 
 t Entic'd by thai great bawd, opportunity] So in Shake- 
 speare's Lucrece ; 
 
 " O Op'portunity, thy guilt is great I 
 
 Thou foul abettor ! thou notorious bawd.'' 
 t Ithaca, can] The second 4to. " Jthacan." 
 ^ find] The first 4to. "faind." 
 
346 
 
 THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 The duke, the too soft duke, lies m a block, 
 For wbich two tugging fnctiona seem to raw ; 
 Hut Rtill tlie iron through the ribs they draw. 
 
 ifal. I tell theo, CcUo, I have ever found 
 Thy brcaRt mo«t for from shifting cowardice 
 And fearful baseness : therefore I'll tell thee, 
 
 CeUo, 
 I find the wind begins to come about ; 
 ni shift ray suit of fortune. 
 I know the Florentine, whoso only force, 
 By marrying his proud daughter to this prince, 
 Both banisli'd me, and made this wenk lunl duke, 
 Will now forsake thcui all ; be sure ho will : 
 I'll lie in ambush for conveniency, 
 U(>on their severance to coniinu myself. 
 
 Celto. Is Fomexe interr'd ? 
 
 Mat. Of that at leiiiuro : he lives. 
 
 Cd*o. But how stiui Js Mendo/a 1 how is't with 
 bimf 
 
 Mai. Faith, like a pair of snuffers, snibs filth 
 la other men, and retuins it in himself* 
 
 CtlM. Ho does fly from public notice, methinks, 
 M A hare does from hounds; the feet whereon 
 be flies betray him. 
 
 iloL I can track him, Celso. 
 0, my disguise fools him most powerfully ! 
 For that 1 seem a dc^i^cnite malcontent, 
 He (aio would clasp with me : ho 's the true slave 
 That will put on the most affected grace 
 For •omo vile second cause. 
 
 Cdso. He's hero. 
 
 Mai. G»fe place. [Exit Celso. 
 
 h'nlfr MknImiza. 
 
 nio, ho, ho, ho! art thnro, old truepenny ?t 
 Wbers bant thou spent thyself this morning 1 
 I ses flattery in thiim eyes, niid dumnutiou in thy 
 sottl. Ha, ye * huge nutciil I 
 
 Mfn. Thou art very merry. 
 
 Uai. Aa a scholar /iUu«nj (/rafM. How does} 
 the dc»il go with thee now ' 
 
 iltf». Mahvolo. tiiou art an arrant knave. 
 
 U*l Who, 1 1 1 Imvo been a sergi-unt, miin. 
 
 J/m. Tlioij wl Tery |><»(>r. 
 
 it'U A* Jub, an alchymi«t, or a poet. 
 
 Jtlrm "I'll* •|iik« h«l«^ the<». 
 
 l.r.J! 
 »ii>e, birU, come. 
 
 I HTW 
 
 «te 
 
 •Iff tt«M Iktrt, lmri<mmy t " 
 
 f^^km^mn'u lltmltt, sat. I. m &. 
 
 Mai. As Irishmen do bum-chicks. 
 Mm. Thou hast lost his amity. 
 Mai. As pleasing as maids lose their virginity. 
 Men. Would thou wert of a lusty spirit ! wouM 
 thou wert noble ! 
 
 Mai. Why, sure my blood gives me I am noble, 
 sure I am of noble kind ; for I find myself pos- 
 sessed with all their qualities ; — love dogs, dice, 
 and drabs, scorn wit in stuff-clothes ; have beat 
 my shoemaker, knocked my semstres-s, cuckold* 
 my pothecary, and undone my tailor. Noble! 
 why not? since the stoic said, Neminem serrum 
 non ex regibut, neminem regem non ex seit'U etse 
 oriundum ; f only bu.sy Fortune touscs, and the 
 provident Chances:): blend them together. I'll 
 give you a simile : did you e'er see a well with 
 two buckets, whilst one comes up full to be 
 emptied, another goes down empty to be filled? 
 such is the state of all humanity. Why, look 
 I you, I may be the son of some duke ; for, believe 
 me, intemperate lascivious bastardy makes 
 i nobility doubtful : I have a lusty daring heart, 
 Mcndoza. 
 
 Men. Let's grasp ; I do like thee infinitely : wilt 
 enact one thing for me ? 
 
 3fal. Shall I get by it ? [Men. gives him hit 
 purse.] Command mc ; I am thy slave, beyond 
 death and hell. 
 
 Men. Murder tbe duke. 
 
 Mai. My heart's wi.sh, my soul's de.'^ire, my 
 fantiuiy's dream, my blood's longing, the only 
 height of my hopes! How, O God, how! 0, 
 how my luiited spirits throng together, to § 
 strengthen my resolve ! 
 
 Meiu The duke is now a-hunting. 
 Mai. E.\cellent, admirable, as the devil would 
 have it ! Lend me, lend mc, i-apior, pistol, cross- 
 bow : so, 80, I'll do it. 
 Men. Then wo agree. 
 
 Mai. As Lent and fish-mongers. Come, a-cap- 
 j a-j)e, how >. inform. 
 
 j Men. Know that this weak-brainM duke, who 
 I only stands 
 
 ' On Florence' stilts, hath out of witless real 
 j Ma<b) mo his heir, and seiTetly confinn'd 
 I The wivath to mo after his life's full point. 
 I Mill. Upon what merit I 
 
 ,U. 1/ M.I t I 1 V hoavou, I horn him : 
 
 ■ r,'.l..'J] I ,. nirknl.tcd. 
 
 t AViNtiK-iH, tic] " l'l:»l«« lilt : Nomlnoni prijcm non ex 
 iiervU OMO orluiuluiii, iiuiiiliicin uon scrviini ox rcglbus." 
 HonooK,— A'y>i4<. xliv. 
 ; (%nntft) l.s. Fnlos 
 I fu) Ibith4tas, "Ml." 
 
THE ItlALCONTENT. 
 
 347 
 
 Only Femeze's death gave me state's life. 
 Tut, we are politic, he must not live now. 
 
 Mai. No reason, many : but how must he 
 die now ? 
 
 Men. My utmost project is to murder the 
 duke, that I might have his state, because he 
 makes me his heir ; to banish the duchess, that 
 I might be rid of a cunning LacedEemonian, 
 because I know Florence will forsake her ; and 
 then to many Maria, the banished Duke Alto- 
 front's wife, that her friends might sti'engthen 
 me and my faction : this is all, la. 
 
 Mai. Do you love Maria ? 
 
 Men. Faith, no great affection, but as wise men 
 do love great women, to ennoble their blood 
 and augment their revenue. To accomplish this 
 now, thus now. The duke is in the forest next 
 the sea : single him, kill him, hurl him i' the 
 main, and proclaim thou sawest wolves eat him. 
 
 Mai. Um! not so good. Methinks when he is slain. 
 To get some hypocrite, some dangerous wretch 
 That's muffled o'er* with feigned holiness, 
 To swear he heard the duke on some steep cliff 
 Lament his wife's dishonour, and, in an agony 
 Of his heart's torture, hurl'd his groaning sides 
 Into the swollen sea, — this circumstance 
 Well made sounds probable : and hereupon 
 The duchess 
 
 Men. May well be banish'd : 
 
 vmpeerable invention ! rare ! 
 Thou god of policy ! it honeys me. 
 
 Mai. Then fear not for the wife of Altofront ; 
 
 1 '11 close to her. 
 
 Men. Thou shalt, thou shalt. Our excellency 
 is pleas'd : 
 Why wert not thou an emperor ? when we 
 Are duke. 111 make thee some great man, sure. 
 
 Mai. Nay, 
 Make me some rich knave, and I'll make myself 
 Some great man. 
 
 Men In thee be all my spirit : 
 Retain ten souls, unite thy virtual powers : 
 Resolve; ha, remember greatness ! heai-t, farewell: 
 The fate of all my hopes in thee doth dwell. 
 
 [Exit. 
 Re-enter Celso. 
 
 Mai. Celso, didst hear ? — heaven, didst hear 
 Such devilish mischief ? suffer'st thou the world 
 Carouse damnation even with greedy swallow, 
 And still dost wink, still does thy vengeance 
 
 slumber 1 
 If now thy brows are clear, when will they 
 
 thunder] [^Exexmt. 
 
 * o'er] The 4tos. "or.' 
 
 SCENE II.* 
 Enter Pietko, Ferrardo, Prepasso, and Three Pages. 
 
 Fer. The dogs are at a fault. 
 
 [Cornets Hie horns icitain. 
 
 Pietro. Would God nothing but the dogs were 
 at it ! Let the deer pursue safety,+ the dogs 
 follow the game, and do you follow the dogs : as 
 for me, 'tis unfit one beast should hunt another; 
 I ha' one chaseth me : an't :J: please you, I would 
 be rid of ye a little. 
 
 Fer. Would your grief would, as soon as we, 
 leave you to quietness ! § 
 
 Pietro. I thank you. 
 
 [Exeunt Ferrardo and Prepasso. 
 Boy, what dost thou dream of now ? 
 
 First Page. Of a dry summer, my lord ; for 
 here 's a hot world towards : but, my lord, I had 
 a strange dream last night. 
 
 Pietro. What strange dream ? 
 
 Fir&t Page. Why. methought I pleased you 
 with singing, and then I dreamt you gave me 
 that short sword. 
 
 Pietro. Prettily begged : hold thee, I'll prove 
 thy dream true ; take't. [Giving sword. 
 
 First Page. My duty : but still I dreamt on, 
 my lord ; and methought, an't shall please your 
 excellency, you would needs out of your royal 
 bounty give me that jewel in your hat. 
 
 Pietro. 0, tho\i didst but dream, boy ; do not 
 believe it : dreams prove not always true ; they 
 may hold in a short sword, but not in a jewel. 
 But now, sir, you dreamt you had pleased me 
 with singing ; make that true, as I ha' made the 
 other. 
 
 First Page. Faith, my lord, I did but dream, 
 and dreams, you say, prove not always tnie ; 
 they may hold in a good sword, but not in a 
 good song : the truth is, I ha' lost my voice. 
 
 Pietro, Lost thy voice ! how 1 
 
 First Page. With dreaming, faith : but here 's 
 a couple of sirenical rascals shall enchant ye : 
 what shall they sing, my good lord ? 
 
 Pietro. Sing of the nature of women; and 
 then the song shall be surely full of variety, old 
 crotchets, and most sweet closes : it shall be 
 humorous, grave, fantastic, amorous, melan- 
 choly, sprightly, one in all, and all in one. 
 
 First Page. All in one ! 
 
 Pietro. By'r lady, too many. Sing : my speech 
 grows culpable of unthrifty idleness : sing. 
 
 * Scene IJ.] A forest near the sea. 
 t so.fety] The 4to3. "safely." 
 X an't] The first 4to. "and" (and so afterwards). 
 § as soon as we, leave you to quietness] The second 4to. 
 ' ' as soone leaue you as we to quietnesse." 
 
348 
 
 THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Ah, eo, BO, sing. 
 
 Song * by Second and Third Pages. 
 I am heavy : walk off; I Bball tiilk in my Bleep : 
 walk off. [Exeunt Pages. 
 
 Snttr MalKTolK, iri/A ernu-boie nndpittol. 
 
 Mai. Brief, brief : who f the duke ! good Lea- 
 ven, that fooU 
 Should Btutuble ui)on greatness ' — Do not sleep, 
 
 duke; 
 Oire ye good-morrow : I mustt bo brief, duke; 
 I am fofl'd to murder ibee : atort not : Mendoza, 
 Mendoca bir'd mo; here's his gold, bis pistol, 
 CruH-bow, andt Hword : 'tis all as firm as earth. 
 foul, fool, chok6d with the common maze 
 Of easy idiots, credulity ! 
 Make Lim thine heir I what, thy sworn murderer ! 
 
 Pielro. 0, can it be 1 
 
 Mai. Can! 
 
 I'utro, Diiicover'd he not Femeze? 
 
 Hal. Yes, but why? but why? for love to thee? 
 Mucli, much ! § to be reveng'd upon his rival, 
 Who hud thrust his jaws awry ; 
 Who being aluin, Bui)p08'd by thiuo own hands. 
 
 Defended by his sword, made thee most loathsome. 
 Him most gracious with thy loose princess : 
 Thou, closely yielding egress and regress to her, 
 Madest him heir ; whose hot unquiet lust 
 Straight tous'd thy sheets, and now would seize 
 
 thy state. 
 Politician ! wise man ! death ! to be 
 Led to the stake like a bull by the boms ; 
 To make even kindness cut a gentle throat ! 
 Life, why art thou numb'd ? thou foggy dulness, 
 
 speak : 
 Lives not more faith in a home-thrusting tongue 
 Than in these fencing tip-taji courtiers ? 
 
 Enter Celso, tcith a hermit's goirn and Ixartl. 
 
 Pietro* Lord Malevole, if this be true 
 
 Mai. If ! come, shade thee with this disguise. 
 If! thou shalt handle it ; he shall thank thee for 
 killing thyself. Come, follow my directions, and 
 thou shalt see strange sleights. 
 
 Pietro. World, whither wilt thou ? 
 
 Mai. AN'hy, to the devil. Come, the mom grows 
 late : 
 A steady quickness is the soul of state. [ExeuiU. 
 
 ACT IV 
 
 SCENE Ml 
 
 Allrr MaijI EUEI.I.r. 
 
 Maq. [htocl-intjatthe ladic* door.] Medam.^ me- 
 dam, aro you utiiTing. niedom ? if you bo stirring, 
 inedaui,— if I thouijht I should disturb ye— 
 
 Kntrr Vngo, 
 
 PoQt. My I»<ly IN up, fur«uuth. 
 
 Uaq A pretty b.iy, faith : how ohl art thou? 
 
 P9ift. I think fuurtecu. 
 
 Matj. Nny, an yo be in the toens— aro yo a 
 
 * lin>(t| Km not« t, p a. 
 
 \ /■■i*)T»»«flnii4Ui. "wnjr"; thoBooondlto. "kom 
 mmm.' 
 
 M^l Not III Uie Aral 4U>. 
 
 Mm*, MarA t\ Meg uiAa |, |. »30 
 
 '"*' ' hi"«-i.«,» <ii tk, laJM floor] 
 
 ' ' — ■ 'Ur iv«rt of tlic 
 
 •rill. I IniIiovc 
 
 t <ii> (lip Jim 
 
 'Illy to (iiuloi- 
 • Biiil KiiiilU : 
 ^ -ii. .,^^. I., <oU, uu hU 
 
 ^^ ' "'Ui your lutniaii.ii u|>ou 
 
 • 
 „ >", I ■iip|«»c. 
 
 • iBtU.ll of UlO 
 
 gentleman boni ? do you know mc ? my name is 
 Medam Maquerelle ; I lie in the old Cunny-court 
 Page.f Soe, hero the lailios. 
 
 Eiil<r BiANCA and Emiua. 
 
 Bian. A fair day to ye, Maquerelle. 
 
 Einil. Is the duchess up yet, sentinel ? 
 
 Maq. ladies, the most aboniinublo mischance ! 
 <Uur ladies, the most piteous disiister ! Femeze 
 was tiiken last iiiglit in tho dnohess' chombor: 
 aliiM, tho duke catched him and killed him ! 
 
 Plan. Was lie found in bod ? 
 
 Maq. O, no ; but the villanous certainty is, the 
 door was not bolted, tho tongue-tied hatch hold 
 his peace : so tlio naked troth is, ho was found 
 in bis shirt, whilst I, like an armnt boast, lay in 
 the outward chamber, iioiu'd nothing ; and yet 
 thoy came by mo in tho dark, ami yet 1 folt them 
 not, liko a BoiiMelosa cronturo as I wna. O beauties, 
 look to your buakpoiuts ; J if not chastely, yet 
 
 • /■trtm) l«olh<tn^ "Col." 
 \ l'»i)r\ Not 111 Iho oM itl«. 
 
 I tmti-fnuHit] 1.0. tlio tn^i^d lacos which foBtoncil tho 
 liUak of Ihv ataya. 
 
THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 349 
 
 charily : be sure the door be bolted. — Is your 
 lord goue to Florence ] 
 
 JBian. Yes, Maquerelle. 
 
 Maq. I hope you'll find the discretion to 
 purchase a fresh gown 'fore his return. — Now, by 
 my troth, beauties, I would ha' ye once wise : he 
 loves ye; pish ! he is witty ; bubble ! fair-propor- 
 tioned; mew i nobly born; wind ! Let this be still 
 your fixed position; esteem me every man ac- 
 cording to his good gifts, and so ye shall ever 
 remain most dear, and most worthy to be, most 
 dear ladies. 
 
 HmU. Is the duke returned from hunting yet ? 
 
 Maq. They say not yet. 
 
 Bian. 'Tis now in midst of day. 
 
 Eniil. How beai's the duchess with this blemish 
 now] 
 
 3Iaq. Faith, boldly ; strongly defies defame, as 
 one that has a duke to her father. And there's a 
 note to you : be sure of a stout friend in a corner, 
 that may always awe your husband. Mark the 
 haviour of the duchess now : she dai-es defame ; 
 cries, "Duke, do what thou canst, I'll quit mine 
 honour : " nay, as one confirmed in her own 
 vii-tue against ten thousand mouths that mutter 
 her disgrace, she's presently for dances. 
 
 Bian. For dances ! 
 
 Maq. Most true. 
 
 Emil. Most strange. 
 
 Enter Feerardo. 
 
 See, here's my servant young Ferrardo : how 
 many servants thinkest thou I have, Maquerelle 1 
 
 Maq. The more, the merrier : 'twas well said, 
 use your servants as you do your smocks ; have 
 many, use one, and change often; for that's most 
 sweet and courtlike. 
 
 Fer. Save ye, fair ladies ! Is the duke return'd : 
 
 Bian. Sweet sir, no voice of him as yet in 
 court. 
 
 Fer. 'Tis very strange. 
 
 Bian. And how like you my servant, Maque- 
 relle ? 
 
 Maq. I think he could hardly draw Ulysses' 
 bow ; but, by my fidelity, were his nose narrower, 
 his eyes broader, his hands thinner, his lips 
 thicker, his legs bigger, his feet lesser, his hair 
 blacker, and his teeth whiter, he were a tolerable 
 sweet youth, i'faith. An he will come to my 
 chamber, I will read him the fortune of his 
 beard. [Cornets sound within. 
 
 Fer. Not yet returned ! I fear — but the duchess 
 approacheth. 
 
 Enter Mendoza. supporting Aitrelia, and Guerhixo : the 
 ladies that are on the stage rise : Ferrardo ushers in 
 AuRELiA, and then tahes a lady to tread a measure.* 
 
 Aur. We will dance: — music! — we will dance. 
 
 Guer. Lea quanto,'^ lady, Pensez bien, Passa 
 regis, or Bianco! s brawl ? 
 
 Aur. We have forgot the brawl. J 
 
 Fer. So soon ? 'tis wonder. 
 
 Guer. Why, 'tis but two singles on the left, 
 two on the right, three doubles § forward, a 
 traverse of six round : do this twice, three singles 
 side, galliard-trick of twenty, coranto-pace ; a 
 figure of eight, three singles broken down, come 
 up, meet, two doubles, fall back, and then honour. 
 
 Aur. Daedalus, thy maze! I have quite 
 forgot it. 
 
 Maq. Trust me, so have I, saving the falling- 
 back, and then honour. 
 
 Aw. Music, music I 
 
 Enter Prepasso. 
 Prep. Who saw the duke 1 the duke ? 
 Aur. Music ! 
 
 Enter Equato. 
 Fquato. The duke ? is the duke returned ? 
 Aur. Music I 
 
 Enter Celso. 
 
 Celso. The duke is either quite invisible, or 
 else is not. 
 
 Aur. We are not pleased with your intrusion 
 upon our private retirement ; we are not pleased : 
 you have forgot yourselves. 
 
 Enter ci Page. 
 Celso. Boy, thy master ? where's the duke ? 
 Page. Alas, I left him buiying the earth with 
 his spread joyless limbs : he told me he was 
 
 * tread a measure^ A measure was a slow and solemn 
 dance. It was not thought indecorous in the most grave 
 and dignified personages to tread a measure. 
 
 t Les quanta] Qy. " Los gv.antes ? " Mr. ColUer (ShoJce- 
 speare Sac. Papers, i. 28), quotes, from Rawlinson's MS. 
 No. 108, Bodl. Lib., a list of dances, among which is 
 " Quarto dispayne " ; while Mr. Halliwell (Dirt, of Arch, 
 and Prov. n''ords) gives, from the same MS., " Quanto- 
 dispaine." — In Munday's BanqvAt of Daintie Conceits, 
 1588, is : 
 
 "A Dyttie expressing a familiar controversie be- 
 tween Wit and Will : wherein Wit mildlie rebuketh the 
 follies of Will, and sheweth him (as in a glasse) the fall 
 of wilfull heads. 
 
 " This Dittie may be sung after the note of a courtlie 
 daunce, called Les Guo.nto." 
 
 I the brawl!] Reed has a long xinnecessary note here : 
 the figure of this dance is no where so minutely described 
 as in Guerrino's next speech. 
 § doubles] The first Ito. "double." 
 
350 
 
 THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 beavy. would slocp ; bado« me walk off, for that 
 tho strength of fantasy oft made him talktiu his 
 dreaiu*. 1 stnught obeyed, uor never: saw him 
 siuco : but wherc»oo*er ho u, he*n siid. 
 
 Aur. Music, aouud high, as ia our heart ! sound 
 high! 
 
 gnttr MALrroUt, and PienU) Ji*it)ii*ed lilt an Uermit. 
 
 Mai. Tho duke,— peace !— tho duko is dead. 
 
 Aur. Muaic! 
 
 MaL Ix't uiuaicl 
 
 Men. Oivo proof. 
 
 Per. Howl 
 
 Cd*o. Where f 
 
 Prtp. Wlien' 
 
 Ifo/. Itcst iu peace, as the duke does; iiuietly 
 ■it: fur my owu part, I beheld him but dead; 
 that'* all : marry, here's ouo can give you a more 
 particular accoimt uf him. 
 
 Mm. .S)>euk, holy fatlier, nor let any brow 
 Withiu this prewsnco fright thee from tho truth : 
 Spoak confidently and freely. 
 
 Aur. We atteud. 
 
 Pietn. Now had tho mounting sun's all- 
 ri|teniug wings 
 Swept the culd sweat of night from earth's dank 
 
 breojit, , 
 
 When I, whom men call Hermit of the Rock, 
 Forsook my cell, and clauiber'd u]> a clilT, 
 Agaiukt whiMte boao the heady Ne{ituue diish'd 
 llis high-cuil'd brow*; thero 'twas I ciu'd my 
 
 liuibs: 
 When, lul my eutraiU meltod witii tho moan 
 Huiue one, who far 'bovo me was climb' d, did 
 
 make — 
 1 shall offend. 
 
 Hen. Not 
 
 Amr. Un. 
 
 PhUq. Mothioka I hear him yet:— '0 female 
 (aith! 
 C)o sow tlie ingratAful sand, and luvu a wuniuu : 
 And do I live to be the scoff of men T 
 To be U«e| wittol-cuckuld, even t<i hug 
 My (MiUou t Thuu kuoweat, U truth I 
 Ho-tnrr \:-Mrt\ »\r<\ will moll witli Houthorn wind, 
 ' ikim the ucvan, 
 itiuct with tears, 
 luen, vow'd to blushloss impudence, 
 
 iio "m.r «K*r" : but the 
 
 I U.| Ite b, 
 
 With sweet behaviour and soft minioning * 
 Will turn from that where appetite is fix'd. 
 
 powerful blood ! how thou dost slave their 
 
 soul ! 
 
 1 wash'd an Ethiop, who, for recompense. 
 Sullied my name : and must I, then, bo forc'd 
 To walk, to live thus black \ must ! must ! fie ! 
 He that can bear with must, he cannot die.' 
 With that, he sigh'd so t passionately deep, 
 That the dull air even groau'd : at last he cries, 
 ' Sink shame iu seas, sink deep enough ! ' so dies ; 
 For then I view'd his body fall, and souse J 
 Into the foamy main. 0, then I saw. 
 
 That which methinks I see, it was the duke ; 
 Whom straight the nicer-stomach'd sea belch'd up : 
 But then 
 
 Mai. Then came I in ; but, 'las, all was too 
 late ! 
 For even straight he sunk. 
 
 Pielro. Such was the duke's sad fate. 
 
 Ceho. A better fortune to our Duke Mendoza ! 
 
 Omnes. Mendoza I [Cornets flourish. 
 
 Men. A guard, a guard ! 
 
 Enter a Guard. 
 
 We, full of hearty tears 
 For our good father's loss, 
 (For so we well may call hira 
 Who did beseech your loves for our succession,) 
 Ctmnot so lightly overjump his death 
 As leave his woes revengeless. — Woman of shame, 
 
 [TV) AuRiojA. 
 We banish thee for ever to the place 
 From whence this good man comes ; uor permit, 
 
 * miuioniuffl "i.e. boing treated iis a million or darling." 
 —.Stcrvnis. Ill tho lii.st ctlition of Doilslcy's Ohl Play*, 
 tho iioto liy Gilchrist on this \voi\l, and tho quutaliou 
 from Biirtou, aro altogothor "iVoui tho imriHJso." 
 t to] Thu Bccoud 4to. "too." 
 
 t »ou*t] Kroiii tho ncourronco of tho wonl, I tako tlie 
 opportunity <if nulioin^ tlint tlio hito exi-oUont eilitor of 
 liou JoiiBon hii8, 1 tliink, unfortunately adopted it, iu tho 
 fuUuwlut; possugo of The Ik-vil in iiti titjt: 
 
 " Madam, this young; ■Wittip<>l 
 Would hnvo doUtiicli'd my wife, and made mo cuckold 
 Thorougli a coMouiunt ; ho did lly hor homo 
 To iniiio own window ; but, I think, I toiu'il him. 
 And iiivisli'd her iiwiiy nut of hi» jvmnoos." 
 ".Ml tlio i-opioHof tlic folio whicli 1 hnvo oxnminod," 
 uayii Mr, UID'ord, "road lou't, of whii-h I can make 
 notliiii(f but »oi((M< or «)im"</; and 1 prolor tho latter. 
 Whiilloy rendu /uii,ihl ,- but ho ovldoiitly had not conaullod 
 tho i>ld copy ■'— iliironl'B Urn Jonfan, vol. v. p. l'.'(i. 
 
 Su»'l l« nothlni,' inoro than a variety in tho HiHiUinu of 
 tAu'il ; to Mil U to iK-aro away u binl. Soo CoIriuvo In v. 
 ••rAoM." Tim lli>bbln"« lMHCi\tl„r< Dmlcct, and Jiimicson's 
 Seitllnh /)irfi'oii(iry In v. " iJ,u." 
 
 That mioh !■ tho moaning of the woiM In Urn Jniimn U 
 plain from tho ro»t of the ixuttuigo whoro it occum, "rfy 
 hor homo," and " out of hU pounctt." 
 
THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 351 
 
 On death, unto tliy * body any ornament ; 
 But, base as was thy life, depart away. 
 
 Aur. Ungrateful! 
 
 Men. Away ! 
 
 Aui: Villain, hear me ! 
 
 Men. Be gone ! 
 
 [Prepasso and Guekrijto Uad away Aubelia guardid. 
 My lords, 
 Address to public council ; 'tis most fit : 
 The train of fortune is borne up by wit. 
 Away ! our presence shall be sudden ; haste. 
 [All depart, except Mendoza, Malevole, and Pietro. 
 
 Mai. Now, you egregious devil ! ha, ye mur- 
 dering politician ! how dost, duke ] how dost 
 look now ? brave duke, i'faith. 
 
 Men. How did you kill him ] 
 
 Mai. Slatted + his brains out, then soused him 
 in the briny sea. 
 
 Men. Brained him, and drowned him too ? 
 
 Mai. 0, 'twas best, sure work; for he that 
 strikes a gi'eat man, let him strike home, or else 
 'ware, he'll prove no man : shoulder not a huge 
 fellow, unless you may be sure to lay him in the 
 kennel. 
 
 Men. A most soimd brain-pan ! I'll make you 
 both emperoi-s. 
 
 Mai. Make us Christians, make us Christians. 
 
 Men. I'll hoist ye, ye shall mount. 
 
 Mai. To the gallows, say ye 1 come :+ prcemium 
 incei-tum petit cerium sceliis.% How stands the 
 progress ? 
 
 Men. Here, take my ring unto the citadel ; 
 
 [Giving ring. 
 Have entrance to Maria, the grave duchess 
 Of banish'd Altofront. Tell her we love her ; 
 Omit no circumstance to grace our person : do't. 
 
 Mai. I'll II make an excellent pander : duke, 
 farewell; 'dieu, adieu, duke. 
 
 Men. Take Maquerelle with thee; for 'tis 
 found 
 None cuts a diamond but a diamond. 
 
 [Exit Malevole. 
 
 Hermit, 
 Thou art a man for me, my confessor : 
 thou selected spu-it, born for my good ! 
 Sure thou wouldat make 
 
 « thyl Botli4tos. "the." 
 
 t Slatted] "i.e. dashed. It is a North-couutry word. 
 See Ray's Collection of English words, p. 54, ed. 17(58."— 
 Reed. 
 
 X coine\ The first 410. "0 6 me." 
 § prcemium inceiium, <tc.] : 
 
 "premium incertum petis, 
 Certum scelus." Seueca, — Phcen. 632. 
 li ril] The first 4to. "Me." 
 
 An excellent elder in a deform'd church. 
 Come, we must be inward, * thou and I all one. 
 
 Pietro. I am glad I was ordained for ye. 
 
 Men. Go to, then ; thou must know that Male- 
 vole is a strange villain ; dangerous, very danger- 
 ous : you see how broad 'a speaks ; a gross-jawed 
 rogue : I would have thee poison him : he's like 
 a coi"n upon my great toe, I cannot go for him ; he 
 must be cored out, he must. Wilt do't, ha ? 
 
 Pietro. Any thing, any thing. 
 
 Men. Heart of my life ! thus, then. To the 
 citadel : 
 Thou shalt consort with this Malevole ; 
 There being at supper, poison him : it shall be laid 
 Upon Maria, who yields love or dies : 
 Scud+ quick. 
 
 Pietro. Like lightning : good deeds crawl, but 
 mischief flies. \_Exit. 
 
 Re-enter Malevole. 
 
 Mai. Your devilship's riug has no virtue : 
 the buff-captain, the sallow Westphalian gammon- 
 faced zaza cries, "Stand out;" must have a stiffer 
 warrant, or no pass into the castle of comfort. 
 
 Men. Command our sudden letter. — Not enter ! 
 sha't : what place is there in Genoa but thou shalt ? 
 into my heart, into my veiy heart : come, let's 
 love ; we must love, we two, soul and body. 
 
 Mai. How didst like the hermit ] a strange 
 hermit, sirrah. 
 
 Men. A dangerous fellow, very perilous : 
 He must die. 
 
 Mai. Ay, he must die. 
 
 Men. Thou'stJ kill him. We are wise; we 
 must be wise. 
 
 Mai. And provident. 
 
 Men. Yea, provident : beware an hypocrite ; 
 A church-man once corrupted, 0, avoid ! 
 A fellow that makes religion his stalking-horse, § 
 He breeds a plague : thou shalt poison him. 
 
 Mai. 0, 'tis wondrous necessary : how ? 
 
 Men. You both go jointly to the citadel ; 
 
 * inward] i.e. intimate. 
 
 t Scud, (fcc] The second 4to. ; 
 " Skud quicke like lightning. 
 
 Pie. Good deedes crawle, but mi.schiefe flies." 
 
 I Thou'st] A contraction of " Thou must." 
 
 § staVcing-horse} " The stalking-horse was one either 
 real or factitious, by which the fowler anciently shel- 
 tered himself from the sight of the game. See Stee vens's 
 note on Much ado about Nothing, act ii. so. 3." — Reed. 
 
 "In the margin at this jilace [only in the second 4to.], 
 the words "shoots under his belly " are inserted ; which is 
 merely an explanation of the manner in which a cor- 
 rupted churchman makes religion his stalking-horse, viz. 
 by shooting at his object under its belly." — Collier. 
 
352 
 
 THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 There sup, there poison him : and Maria, 
 liccause she is our opj)0«itc, shall bear 
 The sad siispoct ; on which she dies or loves us. 
 ^faL I mil. [B-cit- 
 
 Men. We that nre great, our sole self-good still 
 moves lis. 
 They shall <lie both, for tlicir deserts crave more 
 Than wo can recompense : their i)re«cnce still 
 Imbraids* our fortuiios with beholdingness.t 
 Which wo abhor ; like deed, not doer : then con- 
 clude. 
 They live not to cry out " Ingratitude ! " 
 Oik- "ti' k bums t'other, steel cuts steel alone: 
 Til jju 1 trust few; but, 0, 'tis bent trust none! 
 
 [Ejcii. 
 
 SCENE II.* 
 
 BttUr Maletolk and Pietro, Mill Jitffuited, at neveral 
 dtHirt. 
 
 Mai. How do you? how do8t, dukel 
 Pidro. O. let 
 Tlie last day fall ! drop, drop on § our curs'd heads ! 
 Let heaven unclasp ittieif, vomit forth flames ! 
 
 Mtd. 0, do not rave.ll do not turn player; 
 there's more of them than can well live one by 
 another already. What, art an infidel still ? 
 Pittro. I am amazM ; 1 struck in a swoon with 
 wonder : 
 I am commande<l to poison thee — 
 
 iioL I am commanded to poison thee at 
 ■upper — 
 
 Pitiro, At supper — 
 Ual. In the rita<Iel — 
 I'utro. lu tiie citAilul. 
 
 Hal < in! tricks ! truth o' heaven ! 
 
 ho** * .e us us boys do eldertt-jjuns, 
 
 one peU«l U> klitku out another. Of what faith 
 art n'lwT 
 
 / All U damnntion; wickolnoKS extreme: 
 
 • no faith in man. 
 tial. lu none but usurers luid brukers ; they 
 deoeWo no man : men take 'em for blood-suckers, 
 Mul ao thejr are. Now, Uod deliver mo from my 
 
 ■•VMM] "II** aUU uf bolii4( bcbiilJali."- 
 
 • ] i b« ■t«<«<l «Ui -<(Jmi> ' 
 
 Pielro. Thy friends ! 
 
 ifal. Yes, from my friends ; for from mine 
 enemies I'll deliver myself. 0. cut-throat friend- 
 ship Is the rankest villany I Mark this Mjndoza; 
 mark him for a villain : but heaven will send a 
 plague upon him for a rogue. 
 
 Pietro. O world ! 
 
 ifal. World ! 'tis the only region of death, the 
 greatest shop of the devil ; the crudest prison of 
 men, out of the which none pass without paying 
 their dearest breath for a fee ; there's nothing 
 perfect in it but extreme, extreme calamity, such 
 as comes yonder. 
 
 EiUrr ArRELiA, tico halbfiif before and two after, tupporied 
 
 bv Celso and Ferrardo ; Adreua in boM mouminn 
 
 attire. 
 
 Atir. To banishment ! lead* on to banishment ! 
 
 Pietro. Lady, the blessedness of repentance to 
 
 you ! 
 
 Aur. Why, why, I can desire nothing but 
 death. 
 Nor deserve any thing but hell. 
 If heaven should give sufficiency of grace 
 To clear my soul, it would make heaven graceless: 
 My sins would make the stock of mercy poor ; 
 0, they would tiret heaven's goodness to reclaim 
 
 them ! 
 Judgment is just yet from that vast villain ; + 
 But, sure, ho shall not miss sad punishment 
 'Fore § he shall rule. — On to my cell of shame I 
 Pietro. My cell 'tis, lady; where, instead of 
 masks, 
 JIusic, tilts, tourneys, and such court-like shows. 
 The hollow murimir of the checklcss winds 
 Shall groan again ; whilst the unquiet sea 
 Shakes the whole rock with foamy battery. 
 There ushorlesa the air comes in and out : 
 The rheumy vault will force your eyes to weep, 
 Whilst you behold true desolation : 
 A rocky barrenness shall pain ]j your eyes. 
 Where all at once one reaches where he stands. 
 With brows the roof, both walls with both his 
 
 hiUldrt. 
 
 Aur. It is too good. — Blos.s'd spirit of my lord, 
 O, in what orb soc'er thy soul i.s ihron'd, 
 
 • lnid\ Tlio cilil oiin. "Ittl" and "ImUU." 
 
 \ lirr] Tho flint •tto. " tri/." 
 
 t Jutlinnnil it juti tfft/rom that voti ri7/(iiii] If tho t«xt 
 Iw rlglit, Aiiralln nionnii, " My doom is juHt, ihoiitik it l>o 
 |iWM«l by that vlllolu Moiiclou." DodiUey, bowovor, 
 rwula: 
 
 " Judioneiit li jiiiit ; yol/or Hint vast vill.-iin, 
 ht auro \\u Mlmll Hot niliia," A:c. 
 
 I 'Fort] Tho flnil 4lo. " For." 
 
 II pain] Tho ■ocoiij 4to. "pierce." 
 
THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 353 
 
 Behold me worthily most miserable ! 
 0, let the anguish of my contrite spirit 
 Entreat some reconciliation ! 
 If not, 0, joy, triumph in my just grief! 
 Death is the end of woes and tears' relief. 
 
 Pietro. Belike your lord not lov'd you, was unkind. 
 
 Aur. heaven ! 
 As the soul loves* the body, so lov'd he : 
 'Twas death to him to part my presence, heaven 
 To see me pleas'd. 
 
 Yet I, like to a wretch given o'er to hell, 
 Brake all the sacred rites of marriage, 
 To clip t a base ungentle faithless villaia ; 
 God ! a very pagan reprobate — 
 What should I say] ungrateful, throws me out, 
 For whom I lost soul, body, fame, and honour. 
 But 'tis most fit : why should a better fate 
 Attend on any who forsake chaste sheets ; 
 Fly the embrace of a devoted heart, 
 Join'd by a solemn vow 'fore God and man. 
 To taste the brackish flood :J: of beastly lust 
 In an adulterous touch ? ravenous immodesty ! 
 Insatiate impudence of appetite ! 
 Look, here's your end ; for mark, what sap in dust. 
 What good in sin, § even so much love in lust. 
 Joy to thy ghost, sweet lord ! pardon to me ! 
 
 Celso. 'Tis the duke's plcasui'e this night you 
 rest in court. 
 
 Aurelia. Soul, lurk in shades; run, shame, from 
 brightsome skies : 
 In night the blind man misseth not his eyes. 
 
 [Exit with Celso, Perrardo, and halberts. 
 
 Mai. Do not weep, kind cuckold : take comfort, 
 man; thy betters have been beccos: Agamemnon, 
 emperor of all the merry Greeks, that tickled all 
 the true Trojans, was a cornuto; Prince Arthur, 
 that cut off twelve kings' beards, was a cornuto ; 
 Hercules, whose back bore up heaven, and got 
 forty wenches with child in one night, — 
 
 Pietro. Nay, 'twas fifty. 
 
 Mai. Faith, forty's enow, o"^ conscience, — yet 
 was a cornuto. Patience ; mischief grows proud : 
 be wise. 
 
 Pietro. Thou pinchest too deep ; art too keen 
 upon me. 
 
 Mai. Tut, a pitiful sui'geon makes a dangerous 
 sore : I'll tent thee to the ground. Thinkest I'll 
 sustain myself by flattering thee, because thou art 
 a prince? I had rather follow a drunkard, and live 
 by licking up, his vomit, than by servile flattery. 
 
 * loves] Botli 4tos. " loud." 
 
 ■f clip] i. e. embrace. J jlood] Both 4tos. " bloud." 
 
 § Wliat good in sin, &c.] Both 4tos. " What sinne in 
 good," &c. 
 
 Pietro. Yet great men ha' done 't. 
 
 Mai. Great slaves fear better thau love, born 
 natui-ally for a coal-basket;* though the common 
 usher of princes' presence, Fortune, ha'f blindly 
 given them better place. I am vowed to be thy 
 affliction. 
 
 Pietro. Prithee, be ; 
 I love much misery, and be thou son to me. 
 
 Mai. Because you are an usurping duke. 
 
 Enter Bilioso. 
 Your lordship's well returned fromj Florence. 
 
 Bil. Well returned, I praise my horse. 
 
 Mai. AVhat news from the Florentines 1 
 
 Bil. I will conceal the great duke's pleasure; 
 only this was his charge : his pleasure is, that his 
 daughter die; Duke Pietro be banished for ban- 
 ishing his blood's dishonour ; and that Duke 
 Altofront be re-accepted. This is all : but I hear 
 Duke Pietro is dead. 
 
 Mai. Ay, and Mendoza is duke : what will 
 you do ■? 
 
 Bil. Is Mendoza strongest ? 
 
 Mai. Yet he is. 
 
 Bil. Then yet I'll hold with him. 
 
 Mai. But if that Altofront should turn straight 
 again ? 
 
 Bil. Why, then, I would turn straight again. 
 'Tis good run still with him that has most might: 
 I had rather stand with wrong, than fall with right. 
 
 " Mai. What religion will you be of now? 
 
 " Bil. Of the duke's I'eligiou, when I know what 
 " it is. 
 
 " Mai. Hercules ! 
 
 " Bil. Hercules! Hercules wasthe son of Jupiter 
 " and Alcmeua. 
 
 " Mai. Your lordship is a veiy wit-all.. * 
 
 " Bil. Wittal ! 
 
 " Mai. Aj, all-wit. 
 
 " Bil. Amphitryo was a cuckold." 
 
 Mai. Your lordship sweats; your young lady 
 will get you a cloth for your old woi-ship's brows. 
 [JExit Bilioso.] Here's a fellow to be damned : 
 this is his inviolable maxim,— flatter the greatest 
 and oppress the least : a whoreson flesh-fly, that 
 still gnaws upon the lean galled backs. 
 
 Pietro. Why dost, then, salute him 1 
 
 Mai. Faith,§ as bawds go to church, for fashion 
 sake. Come, be not confounded; thou'rt but 
 
 * liorn naturally for a coal-basket] In great families the 
 carriers of coals were the lowest of all drudges : litnce, 
 to carry coals meant to submit to insults. 
 
 t ha'] The second 4to. "hath." 
 
 I from] The first 4to. "for." 
 
 § Faith} The second 4feo. "Tfaiih." 
 
THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 ACT V, 
 
 in danger to lose a dukedom. Think this :— thia 
 Kirth is the only grave and Golgotlia wherein all 
 things that live must rot ; "lis but the draught 
 wherein the heavenly holies discharge their 
 corruption; the very muck-hill on which the 
 sublunary orbs cast their excrements : man is tlie 
 slime of this dung-pit, and princes are the gov- 
 ernors of thfse men ; for, for our souls, they are 
 as free as omperont, all of one piece ; there * goes 
 but a pair of iih<*:ir(< betwixt an emperor and the 
 son of • ba^'i'il'r; only the dying, dressing, 
 pressing, glj^-ing, in.ikes the «lillereuce. Now, 
 what art thiu like tu ]o»e] 
 A n»"'T's oflSco to keep men in bonds, 
 
 • il and treason all life's good confounds. 
 I here renounce for ever regency : 
 O Aiiofn<nt, I wrong thee to supplant thy right. 
 To trip thy heels up with a devilish sleight ! 
 For which I now from throne am thrown : world- 
 
 tticks abjure; 
 For vengeance though't t comes slow, yet it comes 
 
 sure. 
 O, I am chaug'd I for here, 'fore the dread power, 
 In true contrition, I do dcdiuite 
 My br«ath to solitary holiness, 
 
 Hy lips to prayer, and my breast's care shall be. 
 Restoring Altofront to regency. 
 
 Alal. Tliy vows aie heard, and we accept thy 
 faith. [I'ndUcfuiseth himtdf. 
 
 Ri-tnttr Ferseze awl Celso. 
 Banish amazement : come, we four mvist stand 
 Full shock of fortune : be not so wonder-stricken. 
 
 Pietro. Doth Ferneze live ? 
 
 Per. For your pardon. 
 
 Pietro. Pardon and love. Give leave to recollect 
 My thoughts dispers'd in wild astonishment. 
 My vows stand fix'd in heaven, and from hence 
 I crave all love and pardon. 
 
 Mai. Who doubts of providence. 
 That sees this change ? a hearty faith to all ! 
 He needs must rise who • can no lower fall : 
 For still impetuous vicissitude 
 Touseth t the woi'ld ; then let no maze intrude 
 Upon your spirits : wonder not I lise ; 
 For who can sink that close can temporise 1 
 The time gi-ows ripe for action : I'll detect 
 My privat'st plot, lest ignorance fear suspect 
 Let's close to counsel, leave the rest to fate : 
 Mature discretion is the life of state. [£.ceun(. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 SCENE I.: 
 
 " Smier B11.I0611 ami PahkaRKIXO. 
 
 " Bil. Fool, bow doit thou like my calf in a 
 
 lonvt Ktocking ? ' 
 
 " Pas. An excellent calf, my lonl. 
 
 HU. TU'u cm\{ hath been a reveller this twenty 
 
 jroftr. When Momtieiir CJundi lay hero am- 
 
 lor, I could have carrietl a lady up and 
 
 *t unii'H end in a platter; and I can 
 
 10 thoHO at tliat time who, to 
 
 ■f" a mau'ii back and his arm, 
 I have mcoMurod calves 
 
 '' iro ImHIi 
 iHlmko- 
 
 >• |>lahl 
 ■lUrml I 
 
 '. IV07." 
 "•oonia 
 
 " with most of the palace, and they come nothing 
 '• near me : besides, I think there bo not many 
 " armours in the arsenal will fit me, especially for 
 " the head-piece. I'll tell thee — 
 
 " Pats. What, my lord ? 
 
 " JUL I can cat stewed broth as it comes 
 " seething off the fire ; or a custard as it comes 
 " reeking out of the oven ; and I think there are 
 " not many lords can do it. A good pomander,* 
 "a littlo decayed' in the scent; but six grains of 
 '■ musk, ground with rose-water, and tempered 
 "with a little civet, shall fetcli her again 
 " prosontly. 
 
 " P(wu. 0, ay, as a bawd with aqua-vitw. 
 
 "Jul. And, what, dost thou rail upon the 
 " ladies as thou wort wont f 
 
 • tchi)\ Uinlttoil tu tlioiuM'oud iU>, 
 
 ♦ ToiMrtA) Tho nnit Ho. " Lootrlh." 
 
 t iMmitnilrr] Porriiniod jwuite, (r«"«>r:illy mllod into a 
 Ixill, but Hotiiotiincii nioiililiHl Into otlicr formg : it wa* 
 cnrrlol In tlio pookot. or li\ni)f nVmut tlio nock. ftn<l wiui 
 f.ii«l.|rnvli\ |in<«orvii(lvo iipiinst iiifoction. A Kilvoniuio 
 nilr.l Willi iiorftiiiion wiw KOiiK'tlinoiieHllc.l n j».>i<i(i?i</n-.— 
 Homcthluji •ooi«« to have dropixxi out of tho text boi-o. 
 
THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 355 
 
 "Pass. I were better roast a live cat, and might 
 "do it with more safety. I am as secret to 
 "them* as their painting. There's Maquerelle, 
 " oldest bawd and a perpetual beggar — did you 
 " never hear of her trick to be known in the city 1 
 
 " £il. Never. 
 
 " Pass. Why, she gets all the picture-makers to 
 " di'aw her pictui'e ; when they have done, she 
 "most courtly finds fault with them one after 
 " another, and never fetcheth them : they, in 
 "revenge of this, execute her in pictures as they 
 " do in Germany, and hang her in their shops : 
 "by this means is she better known to the 
 "stinkards than if she had been* five times 
 " carted. 
 
 "Bit. 'Fore God, an excellent policy. 
 
 "Pass. Are there any revels to-night, my lord? 
 
 "Pil. Yes. 
 
 "Pass. Good my lord, give me leave to break 
 "a fellow's pate that hath abused me. 
 
 " Bil. Whose pate 1 
 
 " Pass. Young Ferrardo, my lord. 
 
 "Bil. Take heed, he's very valiant; I have 
 "known him fight eight quarrels in five days, 
 " believe it. 
 
 "Pass. O, is he so great a quai'rellerl why, 
 " then, he's an arrant coward- 
 
 " Bil. How prove you that 1 
 
 " Pass. Why, thus. He that quarrels seeks to 
 " fight ; and he that seeks to fight seeks to die ; 
 " and he that seeks to die seeks never to fight 
 " more ; and he that will quaiTel, and seeks means 
 "never to answer a man more, I think he's a 
 " coward. 
 
 " Bil. Thou canst prove any thing. 
 
 " Pass. Any thing but a rich knave ; for I can 
 " flatter no man. 
 
 " Bil. Well, be not drunk, good fool : I shall 
 " see you anon in the presence." [£xeuiit. 
 
 SCENE Il.t 
 
 Erder, from opposite sides, Malevole o.nd Maquerelle, 
 ringing. 
 
 Mai. The Dutchman for a drunkard, — 
 Maq. The Dane for goldm locks, — 
 Mai. The Irishman for usquebaugh, — 
 Maq. The Frenchman for ike pox. 
 Mai. 0, thou art a blessed creature ! had I a 
 modest woman to conceal, I would put her to 
 
 * t/ie;/i] The old ed. "tkiev.es." — Dodsley substituted 
 " ladies." 
 t Scene //.] Before the citadel. 
 
 thy custody ; for no reasonable ci'eature would 
 ever suspect her to be in thy company : ah, thou ' 
 art a melodious Maquerelle, — thou picture of a 
 woman, and substance of a beast ! 
 
 "Enter Passaeello with wine. 
 
 "Maq. fool, will ye be ready anon to go with 
 "me to the revels? the hall will be so pestered* 
 "anon. 
 
 "' Pass. Ay, as the country is with attorneys. 
 
 " Mai. What hast thou there, fool ? 
 
 "Pass. Wine; I have learned to drink since I 
 " went with my lord ambassador : I'll drink to 
 " the health of Madam Maquerelle. 
 ■ " Mai. Why, thou wast wont to rail upon her. 
 
 "Pass. Ay; but since I borrowed money of 
 " her, I'll drink to her health now ; as gentlemen 
 " visit brokers, or as knights send venison to the 
 "city, 'either to take up more money, or to 
 " procure longer forbearance. 
 
 "Mai. Give me the bowl. I diink a health to 
 " Altofront, our deposed duke. [Dnnks. 
 
 " Pass. I'll take it [Drinks] :— so. Now I'll 
 "begin a health to Madam Maquerelle. [Drinks. 
 
 " Mai. Pooh ! I will not pledge her. 
 
 " Pass. Why, I pledged your lord. 
 
 "Mai. I care not. 
 
 " Pass. Not pledge Madam Maquerelle ! why, 
 " then, will I spew up your lord again with this 
 "fool's finger. 
 
 "Mai. Hold; I'll take it. [Drinks. 
 
 " Maq. Now thou hast drunk my health, fool, 
 " I am friends with thee. 
 
 "Pass. Art? art? 
 " When Grifibn i" saw the reconciled quean 
 
 " Offering about his neck her arms to cast, 
 "He threw off sword and heart's malignant 
 
 " stream, 
 " And lovely her below the loins embrac'd. — 
 " Adieu, Madam Maquerelle." [Exit. 
 
 Mai. And how dost thou think o' this transfor- 
 mation of state now ? 
 
 Maq. Verily, J very well ; for we women always 
 note, the falling of the one is the rising of the 
 other; some must be fat, some must be lean; 
 some must be fools, and some must be lords; 
 some must be knaves, and some must be officers ; 
 some must be beggars, some must be knights ; 
 some must be cuckolds, and some must be 
 
 * pestered] i.e. crowded. 
 
 t ir7i«i Griffon, &c.] " Griffon is one of the heroes of 
 Orlando Furioso, from ■whence one might suspect these 
 lines to be taken. I do not, however, find them there." — 
 Reed. 
 
 I VerUy] The fii-st 4to. " Verie." 
 
350 
 
 TUE MALCONTENT. 
 
 cituwnB. Ab for example, I haro two court-dogs, 
 meet* fawning cuni, the ono called Watch, 
 the other Catch: now I, like Lady Fortime. 
 Bomctimca love this dog. Bomctimes mifict that 
 dog ; BouieUmea favour Watch, most commonly 
 fancy Cntch. Now, that dog which I favour I 
 feed ; and he's 80 ravenouB, that what I give he 
 never chaws it, gulpi it down whole, without 
 any relish of what he had, but with a greedy 
 expccUtion of what he shall have. Tlie other 
 
 dog now 
 
 MaL No more dog, Bweet Maqucrelle, no more 
 dog. And wliat hope hast thou of the Duchess 
 lUmt will she stoop to the duke's lure? will 
 •he come, ^ thinkcst 1 
 
 Jiaq. Let me see, whore's the sign now? ha' 
 re ccr a calendar ? where's the sign, trow you ? 
 
 Mai. Sign ! why, is there any moment in that ? 
 
 J/o./. O, believe me, a most secret power : look 
 ye. a Chaldean or an Assyrian, I am sure 'twas a 
 most swevt Jew, told me, court any woman in 
 Uie right Hign. you shall not miss. But you must 
 take her in the rij^ht vein then; as, when the 
 sign is in l'iHCC«, a fishmonger's wife is very 
 •ocUblo; in Cancer, a precisian's wife is very 
 (li'Kible ; in Capricorn, a merchant's wife hardly 
 holds out ; in Libra, a lawyer's wife is veiy 
 tractable, oipecially if her husbiuid be at the term ; 
 only in Scorjno 'lis very dangerous meddling. 
 lias the duke sent any jewel, auy rich stones? 
 
 ital. Ay, I think tlioso are the best signs to 
 Uko a lady in. 
 
 FntfT Ctptain. 
 By your favour, signior, I mutt discourse with 
 the Lkdy Mario, Allufront's duchess ; I must 
 enter fur the duke. 
 
 t'<ipf. 8ho here shall give .you interview : I 
 f*ceivo<l the guanlship of this citadel from tlio 
 goo<l Alt^jfronl, and fur hi4 use I'll keep't, till 1 
 am uf no use. 
 
 >^•' Wilt Ihout U hoaveu.i that a Christian 
 be fuuud in a buffjorkiit ! CapUiiu Con- 
 ••iiiix', I Uivo thoo, captain. Wo attend. 
 
 lfU,i ('it|>liili>. 
 ' ' ' ■ ' ' iMs duchess' 
 
 •Vi, liorJ, she was a oolj creature 
 
 4 kt*»*^, lU.»t^-~tUtlu ' Aiiiwfc" 
 
 ever; she hated monkeys, fools, jesters, an>l 
 gentlemen-ushers extremely; she had the vile 
 trick on't, not only to be truly modestly honour- 
 able in her own conscience, but she would avoid 
 the least wanton carriage that might incur 
 suspect; as, God bless me, she had almost 
 brought bed-pressing out of fashion; I could 
 scarce get a fine for the lease of a lady's favour 
 once in a fortnight. 
 
 Mai. Now, in the name of immodesty, how 
 many maidenheads hast thou brought to the 
 block? 
 
 Maq. Let me see : heaven forgive us our 
 misdeeds! — Here's the duchess. 
 
 £i>t(r Maria with Captiin. 
 
 Mai. God bless thee, lady ! 
 
 Maria. Out of thy company ! 
 
 Mai. We have brought thee tender of a 
 husband. 
 
 Maria. I hope I have one already. 
 
 Maq. Nay, by mine honour, madam, as good 
 ha' ne'er a husband as a banished husband ; he's 
 in another world now. I'll tell ye, lady, I have 
 heard of a sect that maintained, when the husband 
 was asleep the wife might lawfully entertain 
 another man, for then her husband was as dead ; 
 much more when he is banished. 
 
 Maria. Unhonest creature ! 
 
 Miiq. Pish, honesty is but an art to seem so : 
 Pray ye, what's honesty, what's constancy, 
 But fables feigu'd, odd old fools' chat, devis'd 
 By jealous fools* to wrong our liberty ! 
 
 Mai. Molly, he that loves thee is a duke, 
 Mendoza ; ho will maintain thee royally, love 
 thee ardently, defend thee powerfully, marry 
 thee sunijituously, and keep thee, in despite of 
 Uosiclear or Donzel del Phebo.t There's jewels: 
 if thou wilt, BO ; if not, so. 
 
 Maria. Captain, for God's lovo, * save poor 
 wretchedness 
 From tyranny of lustful insolence I 
 Kiiforco nio in the deepest dungeon dwell. 
 Rather than here ; here round about is hell. — 
 I) my dear'st Altofront ! where'er thou breathe, 
 Ix't my soul (tink into the shade.s beneath, 
 lii'foro I stain tliino honour! 'tisg tho\» hoa't. 
 And long US 1 can die. I will live oha.'<l»'. 
 
 Mai, 'Gainst him that can enforce how vain is 
 ntrifo ' 
 
 • tbtttM] Qy. ••iinul«"t 
 
 1 ■ ■ .-.fl lUl ri,rlt<\ --i^w Th( M.r,\<r of 
 
 1 I 4to. " mxLt" 
 
 I (u) Tlio Mocond «to. "thit." 
 
THE MALCOXTENT. 
 
 357 
 
 Maria. She that can be enforc'd has ne'er a 
 knife: 
 She that through force her limbs with lust enrolls, 
 Wants Cleopatra's asps and Portia's coals. 
 God amend you ! [Exit with Captain. 
 
 Mai. Now, the fear of the devil for ever go 
 with thee ! — Maquerelle, I tell thee, I have found 
 an honest woman : faith, I perceive, when all is 
 done, there is of women, as of all other things, 
 some good, most bad ; some saints, some sinners : 
 for as now-a-days no courtier but has his mistress, 
 no captain but has his cockatrice,* no cuckold 
 but has his horns, and no fool but has his feather ; 
 even so, no woman but has her weakness and 
 feather too, no sex but has his — I can hunt the \ 
 letter no farther. — [Aside] God, how loathsome 
 this toying is to me ! that a duke should be forced 
 to fool it! well, stultorum plena sunt omnia :'\' 
 better play the fool lord than be the fool lord. — 
 Now, where's your sleights, Madam Maquerelle ? 
 
 Maq. Why, are ye ignorant that 'tis said a 
 squeamish affected niceness is natural to women, 
 and that the excuse of their yielding is only, 
 forsooth, the difficult obtaining'? You must put 
 her to't : women are flax, and will fire in a 
 moment. 
 
 Mai. Why, was [not] the flax put into thy 
 mouth, and yet thou, thou set fire, thou inflame 
 her! 
 
 Maq. Marry, but I'll tell ye now, you were 
 too hot. 
 
 Mai. The fitter to have inflamed the flax, 
 woman. 
 
 Maq. You were too boisterous, spleeny, for, 
 indeed 
 
 Mai. Go, go, thou art a weak pandress : now 
 I see, 
 
 Sooner earth's flre heaven itself shall waste. 
 
 Than all with heat can melt a mind that's chaste. 
 Go : thou the duke's lime-twig ! I'll make the duke 
 turn thee out of thine office : what, not get one 
 touch of hope, and had her at such advantage ! 
 
 Maq. Now, o' my conscience, now I think in my 
 discretion, we did not take her in the right sign ; 
 the blood was not in the true vein, sure. [Exit. 
 
 " Enter Biooso. 
 " Bil. Make way there! the duke returns from 
 " the enthronement. — Malevole, — 
 " Mai. Out, rogue ! 
 "Bil. Malevole,— 
 
 • coc}:o.trice\ A cant name for a prostitute. 
 
 t sluUorum, plena, &c.] Cicero, — Epigt. ad Fam. ix. 22. 
 
 " Mai. Hence, ye gross-jawed, peasantly — out, 
 'go!* 
 
 " Bil. Nay, sweet Malevole, since my return I 
 ' hear you are become the thing I always prophe- 
 ' sied would be, — an advanced vu'tue, a worthily- 
 ' employed faithfulness, a man o' grace, dear 
 'friend. Come; what! Si quoties peccant 
 ' homines f — if as often as courtiers play the 
 'knaves, honest men should be angry — why, 
 ' look ye, we must collogue J sometimes, forswear 
 'sometimes. 
 
 "Mai. Be damned sometimes. 
 
 "Bil. Right: nemo omnibus horis sapit; no 
 ■ man can be honest at all hom-s : necessity often 
 ' depraves virtue. 
 
 "Mai. I will commend thee to the duke. 
 
 " Bil. Do : let us be friends, man. 
 
 " 3fal. And knaves, man. 
 
 " Bil. Eight : let us prosper and purchase : § 
 'our lordships shall live, and our knavery be 
 ' forgotten. 
 
 "Mai. He that by any ways gets riches, his 
 ' means never shames || him. 
 
 "Bil. Ti-ue. 
 
 " Mai. For impudency and faithlessness are the 
 ' main stays to gi-eatness. 
 
 " Bil. By the Lord, thou art a profound lad. 
 
 " Mai. By the Lord, thou art a perfect knave : 
 ' out, ye ancient damnation ! ^ 
 
 " Bil. Peace, peace ! an thou wilt not be a 
 ' friend to me as I am a knave, be not a knave 
 'to me as I am thy fiiend, and disclose me. 
 ' Peace ! comets !" ** 
 
 Enter Prepasso and Feerardo, two Pages with lights, 
 Celso and Equato, Me.sdoza in duke's robes, and 
 
 GCEERISO. 
 
 Men. On, on ; leave us, leave us. 
 
 [Exeunt all excejyt Malevole o.nd Mentjoza. 
 Stay, where is the hermit ? 
 
 * Hence, &c.] A repetition of what Bilioso had said to 
 Malevole, see p. 339. 
 
 t Si (juoties peccant hominesl "Si, quoties homines 
 peccant," (fcc. Ovid, — Trist. ii. 33. 
 
 I colloouel " In cant language, the word collogue means 
 to ■wheedle." — Reed. "To collogue, adidor, adblandior." 
 Coles's Diet. It properly means, I believe, to confer, 
 converse together, for some unlawful or deceitful purpose. 
 
 § purchase'] i.e. acqxure riches. See note f, p- 74. 
 
 II means never shames] Here (as frequently in our old 
 writers), means is the singular. 
 
 '\ ancient damnation'] See note t, p- 220. 
 ** cornets] I should have thought that this word be- 
 longed to the immediately following stage-dii'ection, had 
 I not afterwards (p. 359) found, 
 
 " So, comets, comets I 
 
 Re-enter Phepasso," &c. 
 
358 
 
 THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 Mai. With Duke Pietro, with Duke Pietro. 
 Men. la ho dead ? is ho poisoned f 
 Hal. Dead, as the duke ifl. 
 Men, Good, excellent : ho will not blab ; 
 Becureness lives in secrecy. Come hither, come 
 hither. 
 
 MaL Thou hast a. certain strong yillanous 
 Boent about thee my nature cannot endure. 
 
 Mm. Scent, raim ! What returns Maria, what 
 answer to our suit f 
 
 Mai. Culd, frosty ; she is obstinate. 
 
 Meiu Then aho'ubut dead ; 'tis resolute, she dies : 
 BUck deed only through black deed* safely flies. 
 
 Mai. Pooh I }ier tcelcra semper sccleribut tutum 
 at iter.f 
 
 Men. Wliat, art a scholar? art a politician? 
 sure, thou art an nrraut knave. 
 
 Mai. Who, J I ) I ha' been twice an under- 
 sheriff, man. ''Well, I will go rail upon some 
 " great man, that I may purchase the bastinado, 
 " or else go marry some rich Genoan lady, and 
 *' instantly go travel. 
 
 " Mm. Travel, when thou art married ? 
 
 " Mai. Ay, 'tis your young lord's fashion to do 
 "so, though he was so lazy, being a bachelor, 
 " that he would never travel so far as the 
 " university : yet when he married her, tales off, 
 "an>l, C«t»o,5 for Kngland ! 
 
 " Men. And why for Kngland f 
 
 " Mai. BocauMj there is no brothel-houses there. 
 
 " Mm. Nor courtezans / 
 
 "Mai. Neither; your whore went down with 
 " tljo stowii, and your punk came up with your 
 "puritan." 
 
 Men. Canct thou empoison? canst thou em- 
 poiMon! 
 
 Mat. Kxcellently ; no Jew, pothecary, or poli- 
 tician t>ettcr. Look ye, here's a box : whom 
 Woulil«t lliou oiui>oison 1 here's a box [Oiviny 
 it], which, o|N>ood and the fume ta'en || up in 
 eooduiu •! thorough whiob the brain purges 
 
 "j^fift." 
 
 '0«»,— ^-wnt li- 
 
 ne ouufudoii in th« 
 
 ...ico an v.. ! — 
 
 It-lfr M«LBVOUI nmt UCMDo.- v 
 
 yuur vmiror I >utuo dolt 
 litlo, butaltoa cuuldrhMty . 
 
 •«• <h«l |iarlu|M when It wm 
 i >i»op, Uto aoono boifiuk Uono 
 
 
 itself, doth instantly for twelve hours* space bind 
 up all show of life in a deep senseless sleep: 
 here's another [Giving it], which, being opened 
 under the sleeper's nose, chokes all the pores* of 
 life, kills him suddenly. 
 
 Men. I'll try experiments ; 'tis good not to be 
 deceived. — So, so; catso ! 
 
 [Sceiiit to poUon Malevolb, lehofaU*. 
 
 Who would fear that may destroy ? 
 
 Death hath no teeth norf tongue ; 
 And ho that's great, to him are + slaves. 
 Shame, murder, fame, and wrong. — 
 Celso! 
 
 Enter Cei;SO. 
 CeUo. My honour'd lord? 
 Men. The good Malevole, that plain-tongu'd man, 
 Alas, is dead on sudden, wondrous strangely t 
 He held in oui* esteem good place. Celso, 
 See him bui-ied, see him buried. 
 Ceho. I shall observe ye. 
 
 Men. And, Celso, prithee, let it be thy care 
 to-night 
 To have some pretty show, to solemnize 
 Our high instalment ; some music, maskery. 
 We'll give fair entertain uuto Mai'ia, 
 The duchess to the banish'd Altofront : 
 Thou shalt conduct her from the citadel 
 Unto the palace. Think on some maskery. 
 CtUo. Of what shape, sweet lord ? 
 Men. What § shape ! why, any quick-done fiction ; 
 As some bravo spirits of tho Genoan dukes. 
 To come out of Elysium, forsooth, 
 Led iu by Mercury, to gi-atulate 
 Our happy fortune ; some such anything. 
 Some fiU'-fet trick good for ladies, || some stole toy 
 Or other, no matter, so't be of our devising. 
 Do thou propai-e't ; 'tis but for fashion ^ sake ; 
 Fear not, it shall bo grac'd, man, it shall take. 
 Cdao. All service. 
 
 Mau All thanks ; our hand shall not be close 
 to thee : farewell, 
 [.itw^r] Now is my treachery secure, nor can we 
 
 fall : 
 Miflchtof that prospers, men do virtue call. 
 
 • iiorci] Tho socoiid 4to. " futietr." 
 
 t nor] Tlio mocoiuI 4to. "or" (but our early writers 
 ufteii proforrod miinjf tho formar whoro wo should now 
 UNO tho Lkttor). 
 
 t <i'v] ThotlniHto. "oik." 
 
 I tfhal] lU.th 4toii. " ir/iy." 
 
 II .S..I.I/ /.ir/tl trick <a>o<J /or tadiet]—/ar-/et, i.o. far- 
 rett:ho<l.— .\i> ttlUulou to tho pnirorb, " Far-fti U gooAJor 
 Imlut." H.) Ill JouHou's Cyiuhia'i RrvtU. act Iv. n.'. I, 
 "Marry, and thU nmy bo goo^lfor lu lattUt; for it sooms 
 'tUfar^/H by their aUy." 
 
 % /cuAtoH) Tho soooud 4to. "o fashluu." 
 
SCESE III. 
 
 THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 359 
 
 I'll trust no man : he that by tricks gets wreaths 
 Keeps them with steel ; no man securely breathes 
 Out of's deserved rank*; the crowd will mutter, 
 
 " fool : " 
 "Who cannot bear with spite, he cannot rule. 
 The chiefest secret for a man of state 
 Is, to live senseless of a strengthless hate. [Exit. 
 
 Mai. [starting up] Death of the damned thief ! 
 I'll make one i'the mask; thou shalt ha' some 
 brave spirits of the antique dukes. 
 
 Cel. My lord, what strange delusion ? 
 
 Mai. Most happy, dear Celso, poisoned with an 
 empty box : I'll give thee all anon : my lady 
 comes to court ; there is a whirl of fate comes 
 tumbling on ; the castle's captain stands for me, 
 the people pray for me, and the great leader of 
 the just stands for me : then courage, Celso ; 
 For no disastrous chance can ever move him 
 That leaveth nothing but a God above him. 
 
 iExeunt. 
 
 SCENE III.+ 
 
 Entir BiLioso and Prepasso, two Pages before them; 
 Maquehelle, Bianca, and Emilia. 
 
 Bil. Make room there, room for the ladies ! 
 why, gentlemen, will not ye suffer the ladies to 
 be entered in the gi-eat chamber? why, gallants ! 
 and you, sir, to drop your torch where the 
 beauties must sit too ! 
 
 Pre. And there's a great fellow plays the 
 knave ; why dost not strike him ] 
 
 Bil. Let him play the knave, o' God's name ; 
 thinkest thou I have no more wit than to strike 
 a gi'eat fellow 1 — The music ! more lights ! 
 revelling-scaffolds ! do you hear? Let there 
 be oaths enow ready at the door, swear out the 
 devil himself. Let's leave the ladies, and go see 
 if the lords be ready for them. 
 
 [Exeunt Bilioso, Prepasso, and Pages. 
 
 Maq. And, by my troth, beauties, why do you 
 not put you into the fashion ? this is a stale cut ; 
 you must come in fashion : look ye, you must be 
 all felt, felt and feather, a felt upon your bare 
 hair : % look ye, these tiring things are justly out 
 of request now : and, do ye hear? you must wear 
 falling-bands, you must come into the falling 
 fashion : there is such a deal o' pinning these 
 ruffs, when the fine clean fall is worth all : and 
 
 * Out of's deserved rank] The first 4to. "Out of distiuied 
 rankes " ; the second 4to. " Out of deserued ranckes." 
 t Scene III.'] The presence-chamber. 
 X bare hair] The first 4to. "head." 
 
 again, if you should chance to take a nap in the 
 afternoon, your falling-band requires no poting- 
 stick* to recover his form : believe me, no fashion 
 to the falling,+ I say. 
 
 Bian. And is not Signior St. Andrew J a gallant 
 fellow now? 
 
 3faq. By my maidenhead, la, honour and he 
 agree as well together as a satin suit and woollen 
 stockings. 
 
 Emilia. But is not Marshal Make-room, my 
 servant in reversion, a proper gentleman ? 
 
 Maq. Yes, in reversion, as he had his office ; 
 as, in ti'uth, he hath all things in reversion : he 
 has his mistress in I'eversion, his clothes in 
 reversion, his wit in reversion ; and, indeed, is a 
 suitor to me for my dog in reversion : but, in 
 good verity, la, he is as proper a gentleman in 
 reversion as — and, indeed, as fine a man as may 
 be, having a red beard and a pan- of warpt § legs. 
 
 Bian. But, i'faith, I am most monstrously in 
 love with Count Quidlibet-in-quodlibet : is he not 
 a pretty, dapper, uuidle|| gallant? 
 
 3Iaq. He is even one of the most busy-fingered 
 lords; he will put the beauties to the squeak 
 most hideously. 
 
 Re-enter Bilioso. 
 Bil. Room ! make a lane there ! the duke is 
 entering : stand handsomely for beauty's sake, 
 take up the ladies there! So, cornets, cornets ! 
 
 Re-enter Prepasso, joins to Biuoso ; then enter two Pages 
 with lights, Ferrardo, Mendoza ; at the other door, two 
 Pages with lights, and the Captaiu leading in Maria ; 
 Mendoza meets Mama, and. closeth with her; the rest fall 
 hack. 
 
 Men. Madam, with gentle ear receive my suit ; 
 A kingdom's safety should o'er-peise ^ slight rites ; 
 Marriage is merely nature's policy : 
 Then, since unless our royal beds be join'd, 
 Danger and civil tumult frights the state, 
 Be wise as you are fair, give way to fate. 
 
 Maria. What wouldst thou, thou affliction to 
 our house ? 
 
 * poting-stick'] Generally written poking-stick, — a, piece 
 
 of stick, or iron, or bone, with which the plaits of iiiffe i 
 
 were adjusted : | 
 
 " A boy arm'd with a poating-sticke 
 
 Will dare to challenge Cutting Dicke." 
 
 Kempe's Nine daies wonder, 1600. 
 t falling] The first 4to. " falling hand." 
 X St. Andrew] The first 4to. "St. Andrew Jaqices." 
 § warpt] The second 4to. "wrapt." 
 II unidle] The first 4to. "windle." As Maquerelle 
 immediately after ternas him " titsy-fingered," "unidle" 
 seems the right reading. 
 If o'er-peise] i.e. over-weigh. 
 
360 
 
 THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Thou ever -devil, 'twas thou that banUhedat 
 My truly noble lord ! 
 
 Men. I ! 
 
 Ma,-ia. Ay, by thy plots, by thy black strata- 
 gems : 
 Twelve moons have sufTerd change since I beheld 
 The lov6d prcsenco of my dearest lord. 
 
 thou far worse than death ! he parts but soul 
 From a weak body ; but thou soul from soul 
 Dissever'st, that which God's own liand did knit ; 
 Thou scant of honour, full of devilish wit ! 
 
 i/crt. We'll check your too-intemperate lavish- 
 ncss : 
 
 1 OAD, and will. 
 
 Maria. What canst ? 
 
 Mtn. Go to ; in banishment thy husband dies. 
 
 Maria. He ever is at home that's ever wise. 
 
 .Men. You'st* ue"or meet more : reason should 
 lore control. 
 
 Maria. Not meet ! 
 She that dear loves, her love's still in her soul. 
 
 Men. You are but a woman, lady, you must 
 yield. 
 
 Maria. (J, save mo, thou innatod bashfulucss. 
 Thou only ornament of woman's modesty ! 
 
 Mm. Modesty ' death, I'll torment thcc. 
 
 Maria. Do, urge all torments, all afflictions try ; 
 I'll die my lord's as long as I can die. 
 
 Men. Thou obntinate, thou shalt die. — Captain, 
 1 that lady's life 
 
 II forfeited to justice : we Itavo oxamiu'd her. 
 And wo do find aho hatli enipoiiioucd 
 Tho revoreud hermit ; therefore wo command 
 Keverwt cuatody. — Nay, if you'll do's no good, 
 You'st do's no harm : a tyrant's peace is bloud. 
 
 Maria. (), thou lyt merciful ; O gracious devil, 
 Rathor by much let mo condemned be 
 Fur iMwmiiig murder than be dumn'd for thee ! 
 I'll inuurtt no uoru ; como, girt my brows with 
 
 flownrn • 
 Ilri 1, miw thy wiHli tliou hast; 
 
 Uh r heart, thou shultdiu chaste. 
 
 I 
 
 I HtdfT AttKBLlA <M moumtnt; habit. 
 
 Ufo U a fri»«t of cold foliclly.t— 
 ! A%r. And doallt the thaw of all our vanity : 
 I Wm'I nut all liouoHl priest that wrote so ( 
 j M*m. Who lot hor In » 
 na Kut)K«rt 
 
 1 ..1 jrni. .A.iK ■!< r/...ll rt l« put 
 
 r.\,,if\ TiiU liiio !• irivoii tu 
 
 Aur. Alas, calamity is every where : 
 Sad misery, despite your double door.-=, 
 Will enter even in court. 
 
 Bil. Peace! 
 
 Aur. I ha' done.* 
 
 Bd. One word, — take heed ! , 
 
 Aur. I ha' done. 
 
 Enter Mebcukv vith loud music. 
 
 Mer. Cyllenian Mercury, the god of ghosts. 
 From gloomy shades that spread the lower coast?, 
 Calls four high-famJid Genoan t dukes to come, 
 And make this presence theii" Elysium, 
 To pass away this high triumphal night 
 With song and dances, court's more soft delight. 
 
 Aur. Are you god of ghosts? I have a suit 
 depending in hell betwixt me and my conscience ; 
 I would fain have thee help me to an advocate. 
 
 Bil. Mercury shall be your lawyer, lady. 
 
 Aur. Nay, faith, Mercm-y has too good a face 
 to be a right lawyer. 
 
 Pre. Peace, forbear ! Mercury presents the mask. 
 
 Coriuti: the song to the cornets, which playinff, the mcisl: 
 enters; Malevole, Pieteo, Ferneze, and Celso, ..i 
 white robes, with dui:es' crowns upon laurel-wreaths, 
 pisloUts and short swords under tlieir robes. 
 
 Men. Celso, Celso, court t Maria for our love. — 
 Lady, be gracious, yet grace. 
 Maria. AN'ith me, sir ? 
 
 [Malevole takes Maria to danci-. 
 
 Mai. Yes, more loved thau my breath ; 
 With you I'll dance. 
 
 Maria. Why, then, you dance with death. 
 But, come, sir, I was ne'er more apt for § mirth. 
 Death gives eternity a gloriovis breath : 
 0, to die honour'd, who would fear to die .' 
 
 Mat. Thoy die in fear who live in villany. 
 
 Men. Yes, believe him, lady, and bo ruld by 
 him. 
 
 J'ietro. Madam, with me. 
 
 [Pitrruo takes Aureua to ilance. 
 
 Aur. Wouldst, then, be misorablol 
 J'ietro. I need not wish. 
 
 A ur. 0, yet forbear my hand ! away ! tly ! fly ! 
 0, seek not hor that only seeks to die ! 
 Piftro. Poor lov^d soul ! 
 Aur. What, wouldst court miaeiy 1 
 Pietro. YoH. 
 
 Aur. She'll como too soon; — my griov'd 
 heart ! 
 
 * / Ami' done, Ao.] Tlio old oda. havo^— 
 "At'ii. I Imiluiiii; unu word, Uiko hoodo, 1 h^idonu." 
 f Umoi\n\ Tlio I\nit 4lo, " (.Viuxi." 
 { roHrt) Tlioaoooiut 4to. "count." 
 I /orj Tbo aoooud 4lo. "to." 
 
SCENE III. 
 
 THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 361 
 
 Pietro. Lady, ha' done, ha' done : 
 Come,* let us dance ; be once from sorrow free. 
 
 Aw. Art a sad man'? 
 
 Pietro. Yes, sweet. 
 
 A ur. Then we'll agree. 
 
 [Ferneze tal-es Maquerelle, and Celso Bianca : 
 then the cornets soimd the measure, one change, 
 and rest. 
 
 Fer. \to BiAXCA.] Believe it, lady; shall I 
 swear? let me enjoy you in private, and I'll 
 marry you, by my soul. 
 
 Bian. I had rather you would swear by your 
 body : I think that would prove the more regarded 
 oath with you. 
 
 Fer. I'll swear by them both, to please you. 
 
 Bian. 0, damn them not bot'a to please me, 
 for God's sake ! 
 
 Fer. Faith, sweet creature, let me enjoy you 
 to-night, and I'll marry you to-morrow fortnight, 
 by my troth, la. 
 
 Maq. On his troth, la ! believe him not; that 
 kind of cony-catching is as stale as Sir Oliver 
 Anchovy's perfumed jerkin : promise of matri- 
 mony by a young gallant, to bring a virgin lady 
 into a fool's paradise; make her a great woman, 
 and then cast her off ; — 'tis as common andf natural 
 to a courtier, as jealousy to a citizen, gluttony to a 
 puritan, wisdom to an alderman, pride to a tailor, 
 or an empty hand-basket J to one of these six- 
 penny damnations : of his troth, la ! believe him 
 not ; ti'aps to catch pole-cats. 
 
 Mai. [to Maria.] Keep your face constant, let 
 no sudden passion 
 Speak in your eyes. 
 
 Maria. my Altofront ! 
 
 Pietro. \to Aubelia.] A tyrant's jealousies 
 Are very nimble : you receive it all ? 
 
 Aur. My heart, though not my knees, doth 
 I Low as the earth, to thee. [humbly fall, 
 
 Mal.^ Peace! nest change; no words. 
 
 Maria. Speech to such, ay, 0, what will affords ! 
 [Cornets sound the measure over again ; which 
 danced, they unmask. 
 
 Men. Malevole ! 
 
 [^They environ Mendoza, bending their pistols on hint. 
 
 Mai. No. 
 
 Men. Altofront ! Duke Pietro ! 1| Fei-neze ! ha ! 
 
 All. Duke Altofront ! Duke Altofront ! 
 
 [Cornets, a flourish. — They seize upon Mexdoza. 
 
 Men. Are we surpris'd 1 what strange delusions 
 mock 
 
 * Come] The first 4to. " Coxs^e dovme." 
 
 t and] Both 4tos. " as. " 
 
 X hand-hasket] Not in the first 4to. 
 
 § Mai..] Both 4tos. "Pietro." 
 
 II Pietro] The first 4to. "Lorenzo." 
 
 Our senses ? do I dream ? or have I dreamt 
 This two days' space ? where am I ? 
 
 Mai. Where an arch-villain is. 
 
 Men. 0, lend me breath till I am fit to die ! * 
 For peace with heaven, for your own souls' sake. 
 Vouchsafe me life ! 
 
 Pietro. Ignoble villain ! whom neither heaven 
 nor hell, 
 Goodness of God or man, could once make good ! 
 
 Mai. Base, treacherous wretch ! what grace 
 canst thou expect, 
 That hast grown impudent in gracelessness ? 
 
 Men. 0, life ! 
 
 Mai. Slave, take thy life. 
 Wert thou defenc^d, th[o]rough blood and wound.s, 
 The sternest horror of a civil fight, 
 Would I achieve thee ; but prostrate at my feet, 
 I scorn to hurt thee : 'tis the heart of slaves 
 That deigns to triumph over peasants' graves ; 
 For such thou art, since birth doth ne'er enroll 
 A man 'mong monarchs, but a glorious soul. 
 " 0, I have seen strange accidents of state ! 
 " The flatterer, like the ivy, clip f the oak, 
 " And waste it to the heart ; lust so confirm'd, 
 " That the black act of sin itself not sham'd 
 " To be term'd courtship. 
 " 0, they that are as great as be their sins, 
 " Let them remember that th' inconstant people 
 " Love many princes % merely for their faces 
 " And outward shows; and they do covet more 
 " To have a sight of these than of their virtues. 
 ■' Yet thus much let the great ones still conceive, § 
 " When they observe not heaven's impos'd condi- 
 tions, 
 " Theyarenokings,|| but forfeit their commissions. 
 
 " Maq. good my lord, I have lived in the 
 " court this twenty year: they that have been old 
 " courtiers, and come to live in the city, they are 
 " spited at, and thrust to the walls like apricocks, 
 " good my lord. 
 
 '■' Bil. My lord, I did know your lordship in 
 " this disguise; you heard me ever say, if Altofront 
 " did return, I would stand for him : besides, 'twas 
 " your lordship's pleasure to call me wittol and 
 " cuckold : you must not think, but that I knew 
 " you, I would have put it up so patiently." 
 
 * till I am fit to die'] The first 4to. " to Hue til I am fit 
 to dy." 
 
 + clip'] i. e. embrace. 
 
 t princes] So my copy of the second 4to. ; that in the 
 Garrick collection, "men." 
 
 § conceive] The old ed. " conceale." 
 
 II kings] So my copy of the second 4to. ; that in the 
 Garrick collection, "men." 
 
302 
 
 THE MALCONTENT. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 MaL You o'er-joy'd* spirite, wipe your long- 
 wet eyes. {To Pietko and Aubelia. 
 
 Henco with this man [Kkkt out Me.ndoza]: an 
 eagle takes not flics. 
 
 You to your vows [To Tietko and Acbelia]: and 
 thou unto the suburbs t [To Maqoebelle. 
 
 • o'er-joy'd\ TUo first •Ito. "art ioy'J" 
 f the $ub\tritt] " Wlioro In luoet cunlrios tlio stows are 
 slluatod."— /'oi'- 
 
 You to my worst friend I would hardly give ; 
 Thou art a perfect old knave [To BiLioso] : all- 
 
 pleas'd live 
 You two unto my breast [To Celso atid tlie 
 
 Captain] : thou to my heart. [To Makia. 
 " The rest of idle actors idly part : " 
 And as for me, I here assume my right. 
 To which I hope all's pleas'd : to all good night. 
 [Conute, ajlouridi. ExetuU. 
 
 AX IMPERFECT ODE, BEING BUT ONE STAFF, 
 
 SPOKEN BT THE PBOLOGUE. 
 
 " To wrest each liurtless thought to private sense 
 '• Is the foul u»o of ill-bred impudence : 
 " Immodest censure now grows wild, 
 " All over-running. 
 " Let innocence be ne'er so chaste, 
 " Yet at the last 
 " She is defil'd 
 ■ With too-nice-braiu5d cunning. 
 
 " you of fairer soul, 
 
 " Control 
 '• With an Herculean ai-m 
 " This harm ; 
 " And once teach all old freedom of a pen, 
 " Which still must write of fools, whiles't writes 
 " of men ! " 
 
 EPILOGUS. 
 
 " Yki 11 niu.i-»l «ileMc<*, full of heedy stillness, 
 
 " Makes nje thus speak : a voluntary illness 
 
 •' It merely Bcnsoless; but imwilling error, 
 
 " Such oji procoeds from too nwli youtliful fervour, 
 
 '• .May well bo cull'd a fault, but not a sin : 
 
 " JliMTit take names from founts where they begin. 
 
 " Then lot not too severe an eye peruse 
 " Tho hlighter brakes of our reformi d Muse,* 
 " Who could hurself herself of faults detect, 
 " I'.ut thitt ttho known 'tiK easy to correct, 
 
 icr bruUi of OUT rt/umxtd 3/ujrJ " 1 MtipiHinc 
 . J ...I. .11 la mcaut (A« utif u/(ii'ii(eil ;>arU of our 
 
 l-c! ' > rt (1 o. font) coiiimoiily gruw In ground 
 
 d.a' ..<.h1 ur lirukoM u|i."— .S(<rt<cn<. Ilore 
 
 •(' 1 : ^Luiiis lu iuoaii-~llawii, )>r«aka. Hoo Mr. llalU- 
 »t .. a li,. : i.f Atxk. ami I'ruv. ti'untt, nub " Uniko." 
 
 " Though some men's labour : troth, to err is fit, 
 
 " As long as wisdom's not profess'd, but wit. 
 
 " Then till another's happier Muse appears,* 
 
 " Till his Thalia feast your leai-u(>d ears, 
 
 " To whose desertful lamps pleas'd Fates impart 
 
 " Art above nature, jvidgmeut above art, 
 
 " Receive this piece, which hope nor fear yet 
 
 " dauuteth : 
 '• He that knows most knows most how much he 
 
 " waiitoth." 
 
 " J/" II Idl luuillnr'a hnjiiiUr Muxe a/i/xiirs, &c.\ An 
 nlliiHidu to liou Jonsuu : soo Oiffurd'a Memoirs of Unit 
 puct, p. U.\ii. 
 
MONUMENTS OF HONOUE. 
 
 Monuments of Honor. Deriued from remarl-able antiquiti/, aiid celebrated in the Honorable City of London, at tJie 
 toU munificent charge and expences of the Ri{jht Worthy and Worshipfidl Fraternity of t hi Eminent Merchan'- Taylors. 
 Directed in their most affectionate loue, at the Confirmation of their Right Worthy Brother John Gore in the High Office of 
 his Maiesties Liiieienant ou^r this his Royall Chamber. Expressing in a Magnificent Tryumph, all the Pageants, Chariots 
 of Glory, Temples of Honor, besides a specious ami goodly Sea Tryumph, (W well particularly to the honor of the City as 
 generally to tlie glory of this our Kingdome. Inuented awl written by John Webster Mercliant-Taylor. Non norunt hcec 
 monumenta mori. Printed at London by Nicholas Okes. 1624. 4to. 
 
RIGHT WORTHY DESERVER OF THIS SO NOBLE A CEREMONY THIS DAY CONFERRED 
 
 UPON HIM, JOHN GORE, LORD MAYOR AND CHANCELLOR OF THE 
 
 RENOWNED CITY OF LONDON. 
 
 My worthy lord. 
 
 These presentments, wliich were intended principally for your honour, and for illustrating the 
 worth of that worthy corponition whereof you are a member, come now humbly to kiss your lordsliip's 
 hiuida, and to present the inventor of them to that service which my ability expressed in this may call 
 me to, under your lordship's favour, to do you * honour, and the city service, in the quality of a scholar ; 
 aiwuring your lurdHhip I shall never either to your ear or table press unmannerly or impertinently. 
 My endeavoura this way have received grace and allowance from your worthy brothers that were super- 
 TJBon of the Coot of these Triumplis ; and uiy hoi)e is, that they shall stand no less respected in your 
 eye, nor undervalued in your worthy judgment : which favours done to one born free of your company, 
 and your ncrraiit, shall ever be acknowledged by him stands interested 
 
 To your lordsliip in all duty, 
 
 JOHN WEBSTER. 
 
 * to do you] The old od. " to you, do you." 
 
MONUMENTS OF HONOUE. 
 
 I COULD in this my pi-eface, by as great liglit of 
 learning as any formerly employed in this service 
 can attain to, deliver to you the original and 
 cause of all Ti'iumphs, their excessive cost in the 
 time of the Eomans ; I could likewise with so 
 noble amplification make a survey of the worth 
 and glory of the Ti'iumphs of the precedent 
 times in this honourable city of London, that, 
 were my work of a bigger bulk, they should 
 remain to all posterity. But both my pen and 
 ability this way are confined in too narrow a 
 circle ; nor have I space enough in this so short 
 a volume to express only with rough lines and 
 a faint shadow, as the painters' phrase is, first, the 
 gi'eat care and alacrity of the right worshipful 
 the Master and Wardens, and the rest of the 
 selected and industrious committees, both for the 
 curious and j udgiug election of the subject for 
 the present spectacles, and next that the working 
 or mechanic part of it might be answerable to the 
 invention. Leaving, therefore, these worthy 
 gentlemen to the embraces and thanks of the 
 right honourable and worthy Pretor,* and myself 
 under the shadow of their crest, which is a safe 
 one, for 'tis the Holy Lamb in the Sunbeams, I 
 do present to all modest and indifferent judges 
 these my present endeavours. 
 
 I fashioned, for the more amplifying the show 
 upon the water, two eminent spectacles in man- 
 ner of a Sea-triumph. The first furnished with 
 four persons : in the front Oceanus and Thetis ; 
 behind them, Thamesis and Medway, the two 
 rivers on whom the Lord Mayor extends his 
 power as far as from Staines to Rochestei*. The 
 other show is of a fair Terrestrial Globe, circled 
 about, in convenient seats, with seven of our most 
 famous navigators ; as Sir Francis Drake, Sir 
 John Hawkins, Sir Martin Frobisher, Sir Hum- 
 phrey Gilbert, Captain Thomas Cavendish, 
 
 * Pretor] i. e. Lord Mayor. 
 
 Captain Christopher Carlisle, and Captain John 
 Davis. The conceit of this device to be, that, 
 in regard the two rivers pay due tribute of waters 
 to the seas, Oceanus in grateful recompense 
 returns the memory of these seven worthy 
 captains, who have made England so famous in 
 remotest parts of the world. These two spectacles, 
 at my Lord Mayor's taking water at the Three 
 Cranes, approaching my Lord's barge, after a peal 
 of sea-thunder from the other side the water, 
 these speeches between Oceanus and Thetis 
 follow : 
 
 Oceanus and Thetis. 
 
 Thetis. 
 What brave sea-music bids us welcome, hark ! 
 Sure, this is Venice, and the day Saint Mark, 
 In which the Duke and Senates their course hold 
 To wed our empire with a ring of gold. 
 
 Ocemi^is. 
 No, Thetis, you're mistaken : we are led 
 With infinite delight from the land's head 
 In ken of goodly shipping and yon bridge : 
 Venice had ne'er the like : survey that ridge 
 Of stately buildings which the river hem, 
 And grace the silver stream as the stream them. 
 That beauteous seat is London, so much fam'd 
 Where any navigable sea is nam'd ; 
 And in that bottom eminent merchants plac'd. 
 As rich and venturous as ever grac'd 
 Venice or Europe : these two rivers here, 
 Our followers, may tell you where we are; 
 This Thamesis, that Medway, who are sent 
 To yon* most worthy Pretor, to present 
 Acknowledgement of duty ne'er shall err 
 From Staines unto the ancient Rochester. 
 And now to grace their Triumph, in respect 
 These pay us tribute, we are pleas'd to select 
 
 yoni The old ed. "you." 
 
366 
 
 MONU^IENTS OF HONOUR. 
 
 Seven worthy navigators out by name, 
 Seated beneath this Globe; wliose ample fame 
 In the remotest part o' the earth is found. 
 And some of them have circled the globe round. 
 These, j-ou obsene, are living in your eye, 
 And fio they ought, for worthy men ne'er die ; 
 Drake. Hawkins, Frobisher, Gilbert, brave knights, 
 That brought home gold and honour from sea- 
 fights, 
 Ca'ndiith, Carliale, and Davis ; and to these 
 
 iSo many worthies I could add at seas 
 Of this l>old nation, it would envy strike 
 r tlie rest o' the world who cannot show the like : 
 'Tis action values honour, as the flint 
 I»ok[8] black and feels like ice, yet from within't 
 There are fclruck sparks which to the darkest 
 
 nights 
 Yield quick and piercing food for several lights. 
 
 ThdU. 
 
 VdU have qiiiekeuM well my memory ; and now 
 Of \ii\a your grateful Triumph I allow. 
 Honour looks clear, and spreads her beams at 
 large 
 
 I From the grave Senate seated in that barge. — 
 Kich lading Kwell your bottoms t a blent gale 
 Follow your ventures, that they never fail ! 
 And may you live Buccessivoly to wear 
 
 1 The joy of this day, each man his whole year ! 
 
 Till" ^1■(JW, having tendered this Fcrvice to my 
 \ '<t'\ iij'ij the water, in after to be conveyed 
 •«hort-, uid in convenient place employed for 
 adoniing the rest of the Triumph. After my 
 IxjhI Mayor's landing, and coming past Paul's- 
 (liAiniUiere firat attends for his Iionour, in Paul's 
 Church yard, a beautiful spectacle called the 
 Tetui>lo of Honour ; the pillars of which ore 
 Ixiuiid about willi roue* and other beautiful 
 ll-.«rn«, Klii.-h »>h<K»t up to the adoniing of 
 the K;ii^'« Majruty's Aruu on tlio top of the 
 Teiui'lo. 
 
 In t?ip l.igt.ri^t fiat a person' representing Troy- 
 
 ' rolled, in rich habilimontu: 
 
 I'g lier peace and felicity, 
 
 ■ itii:»,»ji Antwerp, Paris, Rome, 
 
 "Uiitinoplo : under these sit ftvo 
 
 >«■! iMHiiji of this our kingdom, 
 
 •-• r, ths loarniMl Oowor, the 
 
 lie, the sharp wittxd Sir 
 
 ■' •'^ »i..i icui. M wortliy both aoldier 
 
 Ml t. ! lar, Kir n.ilip Hidiiey. these being 
 
 cciat.ralon of boiiuur, au.l the pnMervors both of 
 
 the names of men and memories of cities above 
 to posterity. 
 
 I present, riding afore this Temple, Henry de 
 Royal, the first pilgrim or gatherer of quarterage 
 for this Company, and John of Yeacksley, King 
 Edwaid the Third's pavilion-maker, who pur- 
 chased our Hall in the sixth year of the aforesaid 
 king's government. These lived in Edward the 
 First's time likewise ; in the sixth of whose reign 
 this Company was confirmed a guild or corporation 
 by the name of Tailors and Linen-armour[er]8, 
 with power to clioose a Master and Wardens at 
 midsummer. These are decently habited and 
 hooded according to the ancient manner. My 
 Lord is here saluted with two speeches ; first by 
 Troynovaut in these lines following : 
 
 TuE Speech of Trotnovant. 
 
 History, Truth, and Virtue seek by namo 
 
 To celebrate the Merchant-Tailors' fame. 
 
 That Henrj- de Royal, this we call 
 
 Worthy John Yeacksley purchas'd first this Hall : 
 
 And thus from low beginnings there oft springs 
 
 Societies claim brotherhoods of kings. 
 
 I, Troynovant, plac'd eminent in the eye 
 
 Of these admire at my felicity,* 
 
 Five cities, Antwerp, and the spacious Pai-is, 
 
 Rome, Venice, and the Turk's metropolis : 
 
 Beneath those, five leam'd poets, worthy men. 
 
 Who do eternize brave acts by their pen, 
 
 Chaucer, Gower, Lydgate, More, and for our time 
 
 Sir Philip .Sidney, gloiy of our clime : 
 
 These beyond death a fame to mouarchs give. 
 
 And these make cities and societies live. 
 
 The next delivered by him represents Sir Philip 
 Sidney : 
 
 To honour by our writings worthy men. 
 
 Flows lus a duty from a judging i)en ; 
 
 And when wo are employ 'd in such sweet praise, 
 
 IWes swarm and leave their honey ou our bays : 
 
 Ever more musically versos run 
 
 When tiu« loalh'd vein of flattery they shun. 
 
 Survey, most nol.lo Pretor, what succeeds, 
 
 Virtue low-bred aspiring to high deeds. 
 
 These passing on, in the next place my Lord 
 is cneounter<Ml with the person of Sir John Hawk- 
 wood, in eomph'te armour, his plume, and feather 
 for his hontu's chairron,t of the Company's colours, 
 
 • Of Ihttr ii,lm,rf nl wi/ /,licil;/, *c.] i. 0. ofthcBO vhieh 
 mliiilir lit my (ollilty. niiiiicly. five cHIoh, *c. 
 
 ♦ eh,<jr,i,„\ 1 p. <limiifr>in, n lu<ml|>le(e with n projcof- 
 ItiB •pike— Old ocl. •'tJ,t\ffomt." 
 
MONUMENTS OF HONOUR. 
 
 367 
 
 white and watchet.* This worthy knight did 
 most worthy service, in the time of Edward the 
 Third, in France ; after, served as general divers 
 princes of Italy ; went to the Holy Land ; and in 
 his return back died at Florence, and there lies 
 buried with a fair monument over him. This 
 wortliy gentleman was free of our Company ; and 
 thus I prepare him to give my Lord entertainment : 
 
 Sir John Hawkwood's speech. 
 My birth was mean, yet my deservings grew 
 To eminence, and in France a high pitch flew : 
 From a y>oot common soldier I attain'd 
 The style of captain, and then knighthood gain'd; 
 Serv'd the Black Prince in France in all his wars ; 
 Then went i'the Holy Land ; thence brought my 
 And wearied body which no danger fear'd, [scars, 
 To Florence, where it nobly lies inteei''d :f 
 Tliere Sir John Hawkwood's memory doth live. 
 And to the Merchaut-Tailors fame doth give. 
 
 After him follows a Triumphant Chariot with 
 the Arms of the Merchant-Tailors coloured and 
 gilt in several places of it ; and over it there is 
 supported, for a canopy, a rich and very spacious 
 Pavilion coloured crimson, with a Lion Passant : 
 this is drawn with four horses ; for porters would 
 have made it move tottering and improperly. In 
 the Chariot I place for the honour of the Com- 
 pany, of which records remain in the Hall, eight 
 famous kings of this land, that have been free of 
 this worshipful Company. 
 
 First, the victorious Edward the Third, that 
 first quartered the arms of France with England : 
 next, the munificent Richard the Second, that 
 kept ten thousand daily in his court in check- 
 roll : by him, the grave and discreet Henry the 
 Fourth : in the next chairs, the scourge and 
 terror of France, Henry the Fifth, and by him, 
 his religious though unfortunate sou, Henry the 
 Sixth : the two next chairs are supplied with the 
 persons of the amorous and personable Edward 
 the Fourth, for so Philip Commineus and Sir 
 Thomas More describe him ; the other with the 
 bad man but the good king, Richard the Third, 
 for so the laws he made in his short government 
 do illustrate him : but lastly in the most eminent 
 25art of the Chariot I place the wise and politic 
 Henry the Seventh, holding the charter by which 
 the Company was improved from the title of 
 Linen-armourers into the name of Master and 
 Wardens of Merchant-Tailors of Saint John 
 
 * ioatchet] i. e. pale blue. 
 
 t inteer'd] So the old ed. for the sake of the rhyme. 
 
 Baptist. The chairs of these kings that were of 
 the house of Lancaster are garnished with artifi- 
 cial red roses, the rest with white ; but the uniter 
 of the division and houses, Henry the Seventh, 
 both with white and red ; from whence his Royal 
 Majesty now reigning took his motto for one 
 piece of his coin, Henricus rosas, regna Jacobus. 
 The speaker in this Pageant is Edward the 
 Third : the last line of his speech is repeated by 
 all the rest in the Chariot : 
 
 Edward the Third. 
 View whence the Merchant-Tailors' honour 
 
 springs, — 
 From this most royal conventicle of kings : 
 Eight that successively wore England's crown, 
 Held it a special honoiir and renown, 
 (The Society was so worthy and so good,) 
 T'uuite tliemselves into their Brotherhood. 
 Thus time and industry attain the prize, 
 As seas from brooks, as brooks from hillocks rise : 
 Let all good men this sentence oft repeat, — 
 By unity the smallest things grow great. 
 
 The Kings. 
 By unity the smallest things grow great : 
 
 and this repetition was jiroper, for it is the 
 Company's motto, Concordia parvce res crescunt. 
 
 After this pageant, rides Queen Anne, wife to 
 Richard the Second, free likewise of this Com- 
 pany : nor let it seem strange ; for, besides her, 
 there were two duchesse[s], five countesses, and 
 two baronesses, free of this Society, seventeen 
 princes and dukes, one archbishop, one-and- 
 thirty earls, besides those made with noble 
 Prince Henry, one viscount, twenty-four bishops, 
 sixty -six barons, seven abbots, seven priors or sub- 
 prior [s] ; and with Prince Henry, in the year 1607,* 
 the Duke of Lennox, the Earls of Nottingham, 
 Suffolk, Arundel, Oxford, Worcester, Pembroke, 
 Essex, Northampton, Salisbury, Montgomery, 
 the Earl of Perth, Viscount Cranbourne, barons 
 the Lord Eures, Hunsdon, Hayes, + Burleigh, 
 Master Howard, Master Sheffield, Sir John 
 Harington, Sir Thomas Chaloner, besides states J 
 of the Low-Countries, and Sir Noel Caroon 
 their lieger§ ambassador. 
 
 * and with Prince Henry, in the year 1607, &c.] The King 
 and Prince Henry dined in Merchant-Tailors' Hall, July 
 16th, 1607 ; on which occasion the Prince and the noble- 
 men, (fee, here mentioned, were made free of the 
 Company. See Nichols's Progresses of King James, A'c, 
 vol. ii. 140. 
 
 t Eures . . Hayes, <fec.] Properly " i'itce . . Hay." &.c. 
 
 X states'^ i. e. persons of high rank. 
 
 § Heger^ i. e. resident. 
 
368 
 
 MONUMEXTS OF HONOUR. 
 
 And in regard our Company are styled Brethren 
 of the Fraternity of Saint John Baptist, and that 
 the ancient Knights of Saint John of Jemsaleui, — 
 to which now-dcnioliBheJ house in Saint John's 
 Street our Company then ui-ing to go to offer, it 
 is recorded Henry the Seventli, then accompany- 
 ing them, gave our Master the upper-hand, — 
 because theso knightp, I say, were instituted to 
 Hecuro tho way for pilgrims in the desert, I 
 present therefore two of the worthiest Brothers 
 of this S-Kriety of Saint John Riptist I can find 
 out in history; the first, Amade lo Grand, by 
 whoso aid Rhodes wa*i recovered from the Turks, 
 and the Order of Annuutiade or Salutation 
 iiihtltuttfd with that of four letters, Fkht, 
 h:;.'!iifyjng /•'ur/i/u</o rjus Jlhodum tenuit ; and the 
 oilii-r, Monsieur* Jean Valet, who defended 
 M.ilu from the Turks' invasion, and expelled 
 them from that impregnable key of Christendom ; 
 tliin styled Great Master of Malta, that Governor 
 of Rhodes. 
 
 Next 1 bring our two Sea-triumphs ; and after 
 that, tho Ship called tho Holy Lamb, which 
 brings banging in her shrouds the Golden 
 Fleece ; th« conceit of this being, that God is the 
 guide and protector of all prosperous ventures. 
 
 To second this, follow the two beasts, the Lion 
 and Canted, proper to the Arms of the Company : 
 <in tlio Camel rides a Turk, such as use to travel 
 «iui (iinivuns; and on tho Lion a Moor or wild 
 .NiiUiidian. 
 
 Tho fourth eminent Pageant I call the Monu- 
 ment of Charity and Learning : this fashioned 
 like a iK-auliful Garden with all kinds of flowere; 
 Bt tho four corners four artificial birdcages with 
 variety of birds in them ; this for tho beauty of 
 tho fluwera and melody of tho birds to represent 
 « spring in wint«r. lu tlio midst of the Garden, 
 <m'!<r an tlnitre«, sits the fauiouH and worthy 
 I '"Mt, .Sir Thontas White: who had a dream 
 O-ttl he should build a eoUvgo whoro two bodies 
 of an elm Nprong from ouo root; and being 
 iiiii|.ire.l to it by God, first rodo to Cambridge to 
 • r. .f ),^ r'.\\\-\ find ntiy such ; failing of it there, 
 rvrying all tho grounds in 
 <.V, at loot in (iloster-llall- 
 K««icii i.o i..<ni<i one that noniowhat n-sombled 
 < , •• «l.;ili hu rtHKilvol to cmlow it with 
 uo oJid to iuorooBo tho foundation: 
 ' Kieu at work upon It, and riding ono 
 
 <Uy out at Um North Gut* at Oxford, ho spied 
 
 on his right hand the self-same elm had been 
 figured him in his dream ; whereupon he gives 
 o'er his former purpose of so amply enlarging 
 Gloster-Hall (yet not without a large exhibition 
 to it), purchases the ground where the elm stood, 
 and in the same place built the College of Saint 
 John Baptist ; and to this day the elm grows in 
 the garden carefully preserved, as being, under 
 God, a motive to their worthy foundation. 
 
 This I have heard Fellows of the House, of 
 approved credit and no way superstitiously given, 
 aflSrm to have been delivered from man to man 
 since the first building of it; and that Sir 
 Thomas AVhite, inviting the Abbot of Osuey to 
 dinner in the aforesaid Hall, in the Abbot's 
 presence and the hearing of divei-s other grave 
 persons, affirmed, by God's inspiration, in the 
 former-recited manner, he built and endowed the 
 College. 
 
 This relation is somewhat with tho largest ; 
 only to give you bettor light of the figure, the 
 chief person in this is Sir Thomas White, sitting 
 in his eminent habit of Lord Mayor : on the one 
 hand sits Charity with a pelican on her head ; on 
 the other, Learning with a book in one hand and 
 a laurel-wreath in the other : behind him is the 
 College of Saint John Riptist in Oxford exactly 
 modelled : two comets, which for more pleasure 
 answer one and another interchangeably ; and 
 round about the Pageant sit twelve of the four-and- 
 twenty Cities (for more would have overburdened 
 it) to which this worthy gentleman hath been a 
 charitable benefactor. When my Lord approaches 
 to tho front of this piece. Learning humbles 
 herself to him in these ensuing verses : 
 
 The Speech of LEAnxiNO. 
 To exjiross what happiness tho coiintry yields, 
 Tlie jiot'ts foign'd heaven in th' Klysian fields : 
 Wo figure hero a thuden fresh and new. 
 In which the chiefest of oiu- blessings gi'ow. 
 This worthy patriot hero. Sir Thomas Whito. 
 WhilHt ho was living, hitl a dream ono night 
 Ho had built u college and given living to't, 
 Whoro two elm-bodies spi-ang up from ono root : 
 And lui ho dream'd, most certain 'tis ho found j 
 Tho olm noiu- Oxford ; and upon that ground 
 Built Saint John's Collego. Truth can testify 
 Ilia merit, whilst his Faith and Charity 
 Was tho true compass, nicasnr'd every part, 
 An<l tcMik the hititutlo of hisChribtian hoarl ; 
 Faith kept tho contro. Charity walk'd this roiuid 
 I'nlil a true circuinforonco was found : 
 
MONUMENTS OF HONOUR 
 
 369 
 
 And may the impression of this figure strike 
 Each worthy senator to do the like ! 
 
 The last I call the Monument of Gratitude, 
 which thus dilates itself : 
 
 Upon an Artificial Rock, set with mother-of- 
 pearl and such other precious stones as are found 
 in quariies, are placed four curious Pyramids, 
 charged with the Prince's Arms, the Three 
 Feathers ; which by day yield a glorious show ; 
 and by night a more goodly, for they have lights 
 in them, that, at such time as my Lord Mayor 
 returns from Paul's, shall make certain ovals and 
 squares resemble precious stones. The Rock 
 expresses the richness of the kingdom Prince 
 Henry was born heir to; the Pyi-amids, which 
 are monuments for the dead, that he is deceased.* 
 On the top of this rests half a Celestial Globe ; 
 in the midst of this hangs the Holy Lamb in the 
 Sunbeams ; on either side of these an Angel. 
 Upon a pedestal of gold stands the figure of 
 Prince Henry with his coronet, george, and 
 garter : in his left hand he holds a circlet of 
 crimson velvet, charged with four Holy Lambs, 
 such as our Company choose Masters with. In 
 several cants f beneath sits, first. Magistracy, 
 tending a Bee-hive ; to express his gravity in 
 youth and forward industry to have proved an 
 absolute governor : next, Liberality, by her a 
 Dromedary ; shelving his speed and alacrity in 
 gratifying his followers : Navigation with a 
 Jacob's-staff and Compass; expressing his J desire 
 that his reading that way might in time grow to 
 the practic and building to that purpose one of 
 the goodliest ships was ever launched in the 
 river : in the next. Unanimity with a Chaplet of 
 Lilies, in her lap a Sheaf of Arrows ; showing he 
 loved nobility and commonalty with an entire 
 heart : next. Industry on a hill where Ants are 
 hoarding up corn; expressing his forward inclina- 
 tion to all noble exercise : next, Chastity, by her 
 a Unicorn; showing it is guide to all other 
 virtues, and clears the fountain-head from all 
 poison : Justice, with her properties : then 
 Obedience, by her an Elephant, the strongest 
 beast, but most observant to man of any creature : 
 then Peace sleeping upon a Cannon ; alluding to the 
 eternal peace he now possesses : Fortitude, a Pillar 
 in one hand, a Serpent wreathed about the other ; 
 
 * deceased] See p. 371. 
 
 t cants] i. e. niches. 
 
 t expressing his] The old ed. " expressing that his." 
 
 to express * his height of mind and the expecta- 
 tion of an undaunted resolution. These twelve 
 thus seated, I figure Loyalty, as well sworn 
 servant to this City as to this Company ; and 
 at my Lord Mayor's coming from Paul's and 
 going down Wood-street, Amade le Grand 
 delivers this speech unto him : 
 
 The Speech of Amade le Ghand. 
 
 Of all the Triumphs which your eye has view'd, 
 
 This the fair Monument of Gratitude, 
 
 This chiefly should your eye and ear employ, 
 
 That was of all your Brotherhood the joy ; 
 
 Wox-thy Prince Henry, fame's best president, 
 
 Call'd to a higher court of parliament 
 
 In his full strength of youth and height of blood, 
 
 And, which crown'd all, when he was truly good : 
 
 On virtue and on worth he still was throwing 
 
 Most bounteous showers, where'er he found them 
 
 growing; 
 He never did disguise his ways by art, 
 But suited his intents unto his heart ; 
 And lov'd to do good more for goodness' sake 
 Than any retribution man could make. 
 Such was this Prince : such are the noble hearts 
 Who, when they die, yet die not in all parts. 
 But from the integrity of a brave mind 
 Leave a most clear and eminent fame behind : 
 Thus hath this jewel not quite lost his ray. 
 Only cas'd-up 'gainst a more glorious day. 
 And be't remember'd that our Company 
 Have not forgot him who ought ne'er to die : 
 Yet wherefore should our sorrow give him dead, 
 When a new Phoenix + springs up in his stead, 
 That, as he seconds him in every grace. 
 May second him in brothei'hood and place ? 
 
 Good rest, my Lord ! Integrity, that keeps 
 The safest watch and breeds the soundest sleeps, 
 Make the last day of this your holding seat 
 Joyful as this, or rather, more complete ! 
 
 I could a more curious and elaborate way have 
 expressed myself in these my endeavours ; but 
 to have been rather too tedious in my speeches, 
 or too weighty, might have troubled my noble 
 Lord and puzzled the understanding of the 
 common people : suffice it, I hope 'tis well ; and 
 if it please his Lordship and my worthy employ- 
 ers, I am amply satisfied. 
 
 * express] The old ed. "expect." 
 
 t a new Phcenix] 1. e. Prince Charles. 
 
A MONUMENTAL COLUMN. 
 
 A Monvmental Colvmne, Erected to the lining Memory of the euer-glorious Henry, late Prince of Wales. Virgil. 
 Ostendent terris hunc tantuni fata. By John IVtbster. London, Printed by N. 0. for Wdliam Wclby dxcelUng in Pauls 
 Church-yard at the signe of the Swan. 1613, forms a portion of a tract, the general title of wllich (in white letters 
 on a black ground) runs thus : 
 
 Tliree Elegies on the most lamented Death of Prince Eenrie, 
 The first \ /■ Cyril Tovrneur. 
 
 The .lecond I •written by -l John Webster. 
 ' The third J I. Tho. Heywood. 
 
 London Printed for William Welbie. 1613. 4to. 
 
 Prince Houry died, to the great grief of the whole nation, on the 0th of November. 1012, in his nine- 
 teenth year. 
 
RIGHT HONOURABLE SIR ROBERT CARR, VISCOUNT ROCHESTER,* KNIGHT OF THE 
 
 MOST NOBLB ORDER OF THE GARTER, AND ONE OF HIS MAJESTY'S 
 
 MOST HONOURABLE TRIVY COUNCIL. 
 
 My right uoble lord, 
 
 I pnaent to your voidest leisure of survey these few sparks found out in our most glorious 
 princv hiji ashes. I couM not have thought this worthy your view, but that it aims at the preser\-ation 
 of hilt fame, than which I know not any thing (but the sacred lives of botli their majesties and their 
 liwet't iKBUt) tlu»t can be dearer unto you. Were my whole life turned into leisure, and that leisure 
 aco^nifianie*! with all the Muses, it were not able to draw a map large enough of liim ; for his praise is 
 an high-going sea that want« b<Ah shore and bottom. Neither do I, my noble lord, present you with 
 thiji night-piece to make his death-bed still float in those compassionate rivers of your eyes : you have 
 already, with much lead upon your heart, sounded both the sorrow royal and your own. 0, that care 
 •huuM ever attain to so ambitious a title ! Only, here though I dare not say you shall find him live, 
 for that a&suraui-e M't-re worth many kingdoms, yet you shall perceive him draw a little breath, such as 
 gircs UH comf'jrt hiH critical day is i)ast, and the glory of a new life risen, neither subject to physic nor 
 fortune. For my defects in this undertaking, my wish presents itself with that of Martial's ; t 
 
 () uthiam mores aiiimiimquo en'mgcro possem ! 
 Pulchrior iu torris miUa UibcUit foret. 
 
 HowiKjever, your protection is able to give it noble lustre, and bind me by that honourable courtesy 
 U> \te i-vcr 
 
 Your honour's tnily devoted servant, 
 
 JOHN WEBSTER. 
 
 • Sir Kubrrt l\trr, yUcfiunt Hxclxtirr, 4c. J Tho million of a weak prinoe, croatoJ E;ul of Somorsot, in tlio year 
 duriii;; wl/i. li t),„ |.ic». Ill ti .. I wiujirliiUxl llu died in 1045. Tho conncition of this infamous miin with tho still 
 "•' ' "». und Uic niurdor of Sir Tbumoa Ovorbury, lux) circumstances too notorious to 
 
 " I 
 
 I 'itiiiiiii iii'>rua iuiimumi|ue unhi((ure t>otKl I" tm. 
 
A MONUMENTAL COLUMN. 
 
 A FUNERAL ELEGY. 
 
 The greatest of the kingly race is gone, 
 
 Yet with so great a rejjutation 
 
 Laid in the earth, we cannot say he's dead, 
 
 But as a perfect diamond set iu lead, 
 
 Scorning our foil, his glories do break forth. 
 
 Worn by his maker, who best knew his worth. 
 
 Yet to our fleshy eyes there does belong 
 
 That which we think helps grief, a i^assionate 
 
 tongue : 
 Methinks I see men's hearts pant in their lips ; 
 We should not grieve at the bright sun's eclipse, 
 But that we love his light : so ti-avellers stray, 
 Wanting both guide and conduct of the day. 
 Nor let us strive to make this son'ow old ; 
 For wounds smart most when that the blood 
 
 gi-ows cold. 
 If princes think that ceremony meet, 
 To have their corpse embalm'd to keep them 
 
 sweet, 
 Much more they ought to have their fame exprest 
 In Homer, though it want Darius' chest : 
 To adorn which in her deserved throne, 
 I bring those coloxirs which Truth calls her own. 
 Nor gain nor praise by my weak lines are sought : 
 Love that's born free cannot be hir'd nor bought. 
 Some great inquisitors in nature say, 
 Koyal and generous forms sweetly display 
 Much of the heavenly virtue, as proceeding 
 From a pure essence and elected breeding : 
 Howe'er, truth for him thus much doth importune. 
 His form and virtue both deserv'd his fortune ; 
 For 'tis a question not decided yet. 
 Whether his mind or fortune were more great. 
 Methought I saw him in his right hand wield 
 A caducous, in th' other Pallas' shield : 
 His mind qmte void of ostentation, 
 His high-erected thoughts look'd down upon 
 
 The smiling valley of his fruitful heart : 
 Honour and courtesy in every part 
 Proclaim'd him, and grew lovely in each limb : 
 He well became those virtues which grac'd him. 
 He spread his bounty with a provident hand. 
 And not like those that sow th' ingrateful sand : 
 His rewards foUow'd reason, ne'er were plac'd 
 For ostentation ; and to make them last. 
 He was not like the mad and thriftless vine 
 That spendeth all her blushes at one time, 
 But like the orange-tree his fruits he bore, — 
 Some gather'd, he had green, and blossoms store. 
 We hop'd much of him, till death made hope err : 
 We stood as in some spacious theatre, 
 Musing what would become of him, his flight 
 Reach'd such a noble pitch above our sight ; 
 Whilst he discreetly-wise this rule had won, 
 Not to let fame know his intents tDl done. 
 Men came to his court as to bright academies 
 Of vii'tue and of valour : all the eyes. 
 That feasted at his princely exercise, 
 Thought that by day Mars held his lance, by night 
 Minerva bore a torch to give him light. 
 As once on Rhodes, Pindar reports, of old 
 Soldiers expected 't would have rain'd down gold, 
 Old husbandmen i"the country gan to plant 
 Laurel instead of elm, and made their vaunt 
 Theii- sons and daughters should such trophies 
 
 wear 
 Whenas tlie prince return'd a conqueror 
 From foreign nations ; for men thought his star 
 Had mark'd him for a just and glorious war. 
 And, sure, his thoughts were ours : he could not 
 
 read 
 Edward the Black Prince's life but it must breed 
 A virtuous emulation to have his name 
 So lag behind him both in time and fame ; 
 
374 
 
 A MONUMENTAL COLUMN. 
 
 He that like lightning did his force advance, 
 And shook to th' centre the whole realm of France, 
 That of warm blood open'd bo many sluices 
 To gather and bring thence six flower-de-luces ; 
 Who ne'er saw fear but in his enemies' flight; 
 Who found weak numbers conquer, arm'd with 
 
 right ; 
 Who knew his humble shadow spread no more 
 After a victory than it did before; 
 Wlio biwl hi* breaift instil ted with the choice 
 ( )f V li they made no ambitious noise ; 
 
 Wli ;i waji so fiery-still 
 
 It seem'd Uu knew better to die than kill, 
 And yet drew Fortune, as the adamant steel, 
 S^jciiiiii).' t" have fix'd a stay upon her wheel ; 
 Who JL-»iingly would say, it was his trade 
 To faaliion death-beds, and hath often made 
 Horror look lovely, when i'the fields there lay 
 Anus and legs so distracted, one would say 
 That the dead bodies had no bodies left ; 
 Ho that of working pulse sick France bereft; 
 Who knew that battles, not the gaudy show 
 Of ceremonies, do on kings bestow 
 BcJit theatres ; t'whom naught so tedious ascourt- 
 
 ^poK; 
 T) . ♦! .^i,t nil fans and ventoyg of the court 
 I'ii'i.' iiiiius and loathsome to the shade 
 Which, in a march, his waving ensign made. 
 Uiiu did ho strive to imitate, and was sorry 
 Ho ilid not live before him, that his glory 
 Miglit have been his example : to these ends, 
 TlioM men Unit follow'd him were not by friends 
 Or leller* preferred to him ; he made choice 
 lu action, not in complimental voice. 
 .\ii'l lui Marcolius did two tem]ile8 roar 
 '!■. ll'.iK.iir and to Virtue, plac'd ho near 
 'lli' ' Mono to Honour's got access 
 
 • '• ■ 'dlhroiigli Virtue's; HO, to express 
 11. uono (;ot liin countenance 
 
 '•' ■ ' ^ ai-t<ial merit <lid lulvance. 
 
 V< ' !iciut lifn full low ! 
 
 ' ' ' ill Wo compare thee to? 
 
 • , or towvni fnktu'd out of anew, 
 ' '' -d taiieni, more for ahow 
 
 ' '• thy foundation doth hotrny 
 
 ' • ' illdod on Hucli clay. 
 
 itndling |iowor of fato, 
 . I c 1 and our i-holnt of sUite 
 -^ • i«l. that wo are full of spotn, 
 
 ion, I'ttVoill blotK, 
 <iH ; for in hiiu 
 u'd, loaining t4i swim. 
 •. ho'n no uioro noar 
 To ui Ujuj ll.i.> iUx Urtid tliroo ihouMUtd year 
 
 Before him ; only memory doth keep 
 
 Their fame as fresh as his from death or sleep. 
 
 Why should the stag or raven live so long. 
 
 And that their age rather should not belong 
 
 Unto a righteous prince, whose lengthen'd years 
 
 Might assist men's necessities and fears ? 
 
 Let beasts live long, and wild, and still in fear ; 
 
 The turtle-dove never outlives nine year. 
 
 Both life and death have equally exprest. 
 
 Of all the shortest madness is the best. 
 
 We ought not think that his great triumphs need 
 
 j Our wither'd laurels.* Can our weak praise feed 
 
 I His memory, wliich worthily contemns 
 Marble, and gold, and oiiental gems ? 
 His merits pass our dull invention. 
 And now, methinks, I see him smile upon 
 Our fruitless tears; bids us disperse these showers, 
 
 i And says his thoughts are far refin'd from ours : 
 
 j As Rome of her beloved Titus said. 
 That from the body the bright soul was fled 
 For his own good and their affliction : 
 On such a broken column we lean on ; 
 And for ourselves, not him, let us lament, 
 Whoso happiness is grown our iiunLshmcnt. 
 But, surely, God gave this as an allay 
 To the blest union of that nuptial day 
 We hop'd ; for fear of surfeit, thought it meet 
 To mitigate, since we swell with what is sweet 
 And, for sad talcs suit grief, 'tis not amiss, 
 To keep us waking, I remember this. 
 Jupiter, on some business, once sent down 
 Pleasure unto the world, that she might crown 
 Mortals with her bright beams ; but her long stay 
 Exceeding far the limit of her day, — 
 Such feasts and gifts were number'd to present her. 
 That she forgot heaven and the god that sent her, — 
 Ho calls her thence in thunder : at whose lure 
 She spreads her wings, and to return more pure, 
 Leaves her eye-seeded robe wherein she's suited. 
 Fearing tliat mortid breath had it polluted. 
 Sorrow, that long had liv'd in banishment, 
 Tugg'd at tho oar in galleys, and had spent 
 Both money autl hersi'lf in court-delays, 
 And >?udly number'd many of her days 
 By a priMun-caK-ndar, though once she bragg'd 
 Sho had been in groat men's bosoms, nowall ragg'd, 
 Ciiiwl'd witli a torttiiso jiaco, or somewhat slower, 
 Nor found she any that desir'd to know her. 
 Till by good chance, ill liap for us, she found 
 Where rieanuro laid hergjunnonl: from tho ground 
 Sho takes it, dons it; and, to add a grace 
 To tho deformity of hor wrinkled face, 
 
 • UiureU] Thu olJ oJ. " Utunlt." 
 
A MONUMENTAL COLUMN. 
 
 375 
 
 An old court-lady, out of mere compassion, 
 Now paints it o'er, or puts it into fashion. 
 When straight from country, city, and from court, 
 Both without wit or number, there resort 
 Many to this impostor : all adore 
 Her haggish false-hood ; usurers from their store 
 Supply her, and are cozen'd ; citizens buy 
 Her forged titles ; riot and ruin fly, 
 Spreading their poLson universally. 
 Nor are the bosoms of great statesmen free 
 From her intelligence, who lets them see 
 Themselves and fortunes in false perspectives; 
 Some landed heirs consort her with their wives. 
 Who, being a bawd, coiTiipts their all-spent oaths ; 
 They have entertaiu'd the devil in Pleasure's 
 
 clothes. 
 And since this cursed mask, which, to our cost, 
 Lasts day and night, we have entirely lost 
 Pleasure, who from heaven wills us be advis'd 
 That our false Pleasure is but Care disguis'd. 
 Thus is our hope made frustrate, sad ruth ! 
 Death lay in ambush for bis glorious youth ; 
 And, finding him pi-epai-'d, was sternly bent 
 To change his love into fell ravishment. 
 cruel tyrant, how canst thou repair 
 This ruin, though hereafter thou shouldst spare 
 All mankind, break thy dart and ebon spade ? 
 Thou canst not cure this wound which thou 
 
 hast made. 
 Now view his death-bed, and from thence let's meet, 
 In his example, our own winding-sheet. 
 There his humility, setting apart 
 All titles, did retire into his heart. 
 blessed solitariness, that brings 
 The best content to mean men and to kings ! 
 Manna there falls* from heaven : the dove there flies 
 With olive to the ark, a sacrifice 
 Of God's appeasement ; ravens in their beaks 
 Bring food from heaven : God's preservation 
 
 speaks 
 Comfort to Daniel in the lions' den ; 
 Where contemplation leads us, happy men, 
 To see God face to face : and such sweet peace 
 Did he enjoy amongst the various preace f 
 Of weeping visitants, it seem'd he lay 
 As kings at revels sit, wish'd the crowd away, 
 
 * there falls] The old ed. " their fates ;" whicli I should 
 have supposed to be a misprint for "tteirfare," if " food 
 from heaven " had not followed in the sentence. As to 
 " fates" of the old copy, — the compositor seems here to 
 have mistaken I for t, as he did previously (see note p. 374) 
 in the word " laurels." 
 
 t preace] The old ed. has ' 'presse " : but Webster doubt- 
 less wrote "preace," a form of the word common in his 
 day. 
 
 The tedious sports done, and himself asleep ; 
 And in such joy did all his senses steep, 
 As great accountants, troubled much in mind, 
 When they hear news of their quietus sign'd. 
 Never found prayers, since they convers'd with 
 
 death, 
 A sweeter air to fly in than his breath : * 
 They left in's eyes nothing but glory shining ; 
 And though that sickness with her over-pining 
 Look ghastly, yet in him it did not so ; 
 He knew the place to which he was to go 
 Had larger titles, more triumphant wreaths 
 To instate him with; and forth his soul ho 
 
 breathes, 
 Without a sigh, fixing his constant eye 
 Upon his triumph, immortality. 
 He was rain'd down to us out of heaven, and 
 
 drew 
 Life to the spring; yet, like a little dew. 
 Quickly drawn thence : so many times miscarries 
 A crystal glass, whilst that the workman varies 
 The shape i'the furnace, fix'd too much iijaon 
 The curiousness of the proportion, 
 Yet breaks it ere't be finish'd, and yet then 
 Moulds it anew, and blows it up agen, 
 Exceeds his workmanshij), and sends it thence 
 To kiss the hand and lip of some great prince ; 
 Or like a dial, broke in wheel or screw. 
 That's ta'en in pieces to be made go true : 
 So to eternity he now shall stand, 
 New-form'd and gloried by the all-working hand. 
 Slander, which hath a large and spacious tongue, 
 Far bigger than her mouth, to publish wrong. 
 And yet doth utter't with so ill a grace. 
 Whilst she's a-speaking no man sees her face; 
 That like dogs lick foul ulcers, not to draw 
 Infection from them, but to keej^ them raw ; 
 Though she oft scrape up earth from good men's 
 
 graves, 
 And waste it in the standishes of slaves, 
 To throw upon their ink, shall never dare 
 To approach his tomb : be she confiu'd f as far 
 From his sweet reliques as is heaven from hell ! 
 Not witchcraft shall instruct her how to spell 
 That barbarous language which shall sound him 
 
 ill. 
 Fame's lips shall bleed, yet ne'er her trumpet fill 
 W^ith breath enough ; but not in such sick air 
 As make waste elegies to his tomb repair, 
 
 * A sweeter air to fly in than his breath] So in The Devil's 
 Law-case ; 
 
 " It could never have got 
 A sweeter air to fly in tho.n your breath." 
 
 See p. 109 and note there, 
 t co'nfiiCd] See note \, p. 179. 
 
A MONUMENTAL COLUMN. 
 
 With scraps of commendation more baso 
 Than are the rags tbey are writ on. disgrace 
 To uoblcr pocHj ! this brings to light, 
 Not that they can, but that they cannot write, 
 liettcr tbey bad ne'er troubled bia sweet trance ; 
 So silence should bavo bid their ignorance ; 
 For he's a reverend Hubject to be penn'd 
 Only by bis sweet Homer and my friend.* 
 Most savage nations should bis death deplore, 
 Wishing bo had set his foot ujion their shoi-e, 
 Only to have uuido them civil. This black night 
 Hath fall'n upon's byt nature's oversight; 
 Or whilo the fatal sister sought to twine 
 His thread and keep it even, she drew it so fine 
 It bur«t. O all-compoh'd of excellent parts, 
 Young, gnive Mecicnas of the noble arts, 
 Whose beams shall break forth from thy hollow 
 
 tomb, 
 Suiu the time past, and light the time to come ! J 
 thou that in thy own praise still wert mute, 
 Itosembling trees, the more they are ta'cu with 
 
 fruit, 
 The more tbey strive and bow to kiss the ground ! 
 Thou that in quest of man host truly found, 
 That while men rotten vapours do pursue, 
 Tlioy could not be thy friends and Hatterers too ; 
 Tliat, despite all injustice, wouldst have prov'd 
 So ju*t a steward for this land, and lov'd 
 Right for its own Hake, — now, woo the while, 
 Klccl'sl 5 de«d in tears, like to a moving isle ! 
 Time was when churches in the laud were thought 
 Ilich jcwvlliouscs; ami this age hath bought 
 Tliftt time ugiiiu : think not I feign ; go view 
 Houry the Bovonth's Chapel, and you'll find it 
 
 true: 
 The diut of a rich diamond's there inshrin'd ; 
 To buy whicli thence would beggai- the Wost-Inde. 
 Wimt a dark niglitpiece of tempestuous weather 
 Uaro tlio enr«({6d clouds summou'd together ! 
 
 • kU ntnt llomtr aiul my friend] I. o. Clmpinan, who 
 
 '^' ■ ' •flloinor to I'riueo Houry. 
 
 I 
 
 - . iiui light l\t Hint to eumr] So III 
 
 •' tiuu paM, liptili Ikt linu to eonu." 
 
 Sou II. 01. 
 J /lirf-*] I o. KU«ic«t. 
 
 As if our loftiest palaces should grow 
 To ruin, since such highness fell so low ; 
 And angry Neptune makes his palace groan, 
 That the deaf rocks may echo the laud's moan. 
 Even senseless things seem to have lost their 
 
 pride, 
 And look like thai dead mouth wherein be died : 
 To clear which, soon arise that glorious day * 
 Which, in her sacred union, shall display 
 Infinite blessings, that wo all may see 
 The like to that of Virgil's golden tree, 
 A branch of which being slipt, there freshly grew 
 Another that did boast like form and hue. 
 And for these worthless lines, let it be said, 
 I basted till I had this tribute paid 
 Unto his grave : so let the speed excuse 
 The zealous error of my passionate Muse. 
 Yet, though his praise hero bear so short a wing, 
 Thames hath more swans that will his praises sing 
 In sweeter tunes, be-pluming his sad beai-se 
 And his three feathers, while men live or verse. 
 And by these signs of love let great men know. 
 That sweet and generous favour they bestow 
 Upon the Muses never can be lost ; 
 For they shall live by them, when all the cost 
 Of gilded monuments shall fiill to dust : 
 Tbey grave in metal that sustains no rust ; 
 Their wood yields honey and industrious bees. 
 Kills .spiders and their webs, like Irish trees.t 
 A poet's pen, like a bright sceptre, sways 
 And keeps in awe dead men's dispraise or praise. 
 Thus took be acquittance of all worldly .strife : 
 The evening shows the day, and death crowns life. 
 
 My impresa to your lordship, A swan flying to 
 a laurel for shelter, the n\ot,X Amor at mihi causa. 
 
 ' Tu clear if/nVA, smm, Ac] An alhisiou to tho miUrioKO 
 of tlio PrlncoKs Kliailioth to tho Kloctor Polutiue, which 
 took plaeo'lu Folniinvy, 1013. 
 
 t Iritti trro] Soo noto •, |>. 16.— In Shirley's ». Pittriek 
 fur Inluml (Horiviiv. 4U\ tho .siiiiit, ou bauishiug the 
 Merp«uta, *o., frt»in that Island, »j»y.s ; 
 
 "Tho very oiiitli iind tmml Hhall hnvo this blossiuj; 
 
 (Abiivo what nthor Chiintimi iintionx bojust), 
 
 Although tnms|Miitud where thoso sorpouts livo 
 
 Ami multiply, otif towh «A<i« loon d(stn>!/ tMrm." 
 
 } mot] 1. c. motto. 
 
ODES. 
 
 377 
 
 TO MY KIXD FRIEND, MASTER ANTHONY MUNDAY.* 
 
 The sighs of ladies, and the spleen of knights, 
 The force of magic, and the map of fate. 
 
 Strange pigmy-singleness in giant fights, 
 Thy true translation sweetly doth relate : 
 
 Nor for the fiction is the work less fine ; 
 
 Fables have pith and moral discipline. 
 
 Now Palmerin in his own language sings, 
 
 That, till thy study, mask'd in unknown fashion, 
 
 Like a fantastic Briton ; and hence springs 
 The map of his fair life to his own nation : 
 
 Translation is a traffic of high price ; 
 
 It brings all learning in one paradise. 
 
 ODE.t 
 
 Triumphs were wont with sweat and blood be 
 crowu'd : 
 
 To every brow 
 
 They did allow 
 The living laurer, J which begirted round 
 Their rusty helmets, and had power to make 
 The soldier smUe while mortal wound did ache. 
 
 But oxu" more civil passages of state 
 
 (Like happy feast 
 
 Of inur'd rest, 
 Which bells and woundless cannons did relate) 
 Stand high in joy, since wai'like triumphs bring 
 Remembrance of our former sorrowing. 
 
 The memory of these should quickly fade, 
 
 (For pleasure's stream 
 
 Is like a dream. 
 Passant and fleet as is a shade), 
 Unless thyself, which these fair models bred, 
 Had given them a new life when they -were dead. 
 
 Take, then, good countryman and friend, that 
 Which folly lends, [merit, 
 
 Not judgment sends, 
 To foreign shores for strangers to inherit : 
 Perfection must be bold with front upright, 
 Though Envy gnash her teeth whilst she would 
 bite. 
 
 JOH. WEBSTER. 
 
 * To my Hiul friend, ifcc] Prefixed to the Third Part of 
 Monday's translation oi Pabiierin of England, 1602, 4to. 
 
 t Ode] Prefixed to The Arch's of Trivmjph, Erected in 
 honour of the high and mighty prince James, the First of 
 that name King of England, and the Sixt of Scotland, at his 
 Maiesties entrance and passage through his Honorable Citty 
 
 and Chamber of London, upon the loth Day of March, 1603. 
 Invented and published by Stephen Harrison Joyner atvl 
 Architect, and graven by William Kip. leo-l, folio. 
 X lav,rer\ Fr. So Chaucer in The Marchantes Tale; 
 
 "As lav.rer thurgh the yere is for to sene." 
 
378 
 
 ODES. 
 
 TO HIS BELOVED FRIEND, MASTER THOMAS HEYTVOOD.» 
 
 Same suptrbiam quasllam meritu.f 
 
 I c.vsJtoT, though you write in your own cause, 
 Say you deal partially, but must confess 
 
 (What meet men will) you merit due applause : 
 So worthily your work bccomea the press. 
 
 And well our actors may approve your pains, 
 For you give them authority to play. 
 
 Even whihft the hottest plague of envy reigns ; 
 Nor for this warrant shall they dearly pay. 
 
 What a full state of poets have you cited 
 To judge your cause ! and to our equal view 
 
 Fair uiuuumeutal theatres recited, 
 >S'ho«c ruins had been ruin'd but for you ! 
 
 Such men who can in tune both rail and sing. 
 Shall, viewing this, either confess 'tis good. 
 
 Or let their ignorance condemn the spring.', 
 Because 'tis meiry and renews our blood. 
 
 Be therefore your own judgment your defence, 
 Which shall approve you better than my praise ; 
 
 Whilst I, in right of sacred innocence, 
 
 Durst o'er each gilded tomb this known truth 
 raise, — 
 
 Who dead would not be acted by their will. 
 
 It seems such men have acted their lives ilL 
 
 By your friend, 
 
 JOHN WEBSTER. 
 
 '10 HIS INDUSTRIOUS FRIEND, MASTER HENRY COCKERAM.+ 
 
 To overpraiao thy book in a smooth lino, 
 (If uiy error*! in't,) would make it iniuo : 
 Only, while words for jtoyini'iit ]iaAS at court, 
 And whilst loud talk and wr&ugliug make resort, 
 
 A:c.J I'rvtixoU tu lluywcHjd'* 
 '«,-ton».lU. 30. 
 
 r the term, to Westminster, I do not dread 
 Thy leaves shall scape the scombri, and be read ; 
 .And I will adil this as thy friend, no poet, — 
 Thou hast toil'd to purpose, and the event will 
 hIiow it. 
 
 JOHN WEBSTER. 
 
 ] 'J'o kit iiuliulriout/rinul, ice] l*n)tixoii to The h'tifflitJi 
 J)irlioiiarif, or, an JiUcrimtcr uj' hard Jtnffluh tcvnU, 6y 
 Jl. C , Gent. 1023. 
 
INDEX TO THE NOTES. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Abominable 259 
 
 above, — the upper stage . . . . . 100 
 aconitum, — a cure for the sting of venomous 
 
 reptiles 168 
 
 actious 197 
 
 adamant ....... 9 
 
 Alexander and Lodowick . . . . 66 
 
 AUegant, or Alligant 305 
 
 allow 228 
 
 almond for a parrot ..... 242 
 Amboyna, massacre of the English by the 
 
 Dutch at 131 
 
 Ambree, Mary 239 
 
 ancient 211 
 
 Antony Now-now . . . . .260 
 
 apples of Sodom . . . . . . 20 
 
 arpines 129 
 
 arraigned ....... 187 
 
 arras-powder ...... 41 
 
 Ascapart . . . . . . . 239 
 
 atone .24 
 
 atonement . . . . . . . 91 
 
 aunts ....... 254 
 
 away with ....... 138 
 
 Bag, to give the 235 
 
 band 231 
 
 Banks's horse, Morocco . . . 17, 269 
 
 barb 345 
 
 Barbaiy buttons . . . . .280 
 
 Barmotho pigs . . . . . . 123 
 
 barnacle, Scotch ..... 343 
 
 barriers, the great, moulting feathers . . 6 
 barriers, the . . . . . .40 
 
 basons and ewers of sUver given as presents . 265 
 
 bastard . . ..... 305 
 
 bearing ........ 272 
 
 becco 330 
 
 Bednal-Green 298 
 
 beds thrust on the stage .... 123 
 
 beg fools 336 
 
 beholdingness ...... 352 
 
 PAGE 
 
 bench-hole 282 
 
 Bermoothes . . . . . . . 79 
 
 bezzled 338 
 
 bias 217 
 
 Bishop's-Hall 308 
 
 Blackfriars, the residence of puritan feather- 
 makers . . . . . . . 237 
 
 blackguard, the ...... 8 
 
 blue-bottle 254 
 
 bombast . . ..... 265 
 
 boot, Scotch . . . . , . . 344 
 
 Bosoms Inn ...... 262 
 
 braches . . ...... 48 
 
 brachygraphy men . . . . .131 
 
 Brainford 222 
 
 brakes ....... 362 
 
 brave 33 
 
 bravery ....... 113 
 
 brawl, the 349 
 
 break up ...... . 216 
 
 brides wearing their hair loose. . . . 27 
 
 bronstrops. ...... 307 
 
 Bucklersbury 213 
 
 buffoonery on the stage . . . .93 
 
 Burbadge, Richard 325 
 
 Burse, the New 109 
 
 biu-st ........ 14 
 
 busk-points ...... 348 
 
 Calais-sands, duelling on. . . . . 292 
 
 Ca'ndish's voyage ..... 244 
 
 candlestick fashioned like a man in armour . 19 
 
 canions . . . . . . . . 257 
 
 cants 
 
 caracks . 
 
 carcanet . 
 
 carving by ladies 
 
 case . 
 
 caskanet 
 
 cast . 
 
 cast 
 
 Castel Nuovo 
 
 369 
 119 
 209 
 8 
 46 
 113 
 272 
 338 
 144 
 
380 
 
 INDEX TO THE NOTES. 
 
 caters . 
 
 C:itlierine-pear-coloured 
 
 catso 
 
 ceusure (subst.) . 
 
 censure (verb) 
 
 chaffroQ 
 
 clmiuB bought in St. Martin 
 
 Chapman, George, alludt-d 
 
 chetk with an excellent bi.-w 
 
 cht-tse-tn.nchens poisieu <ii 
 
 child's part 
 
 cipres 
 
 clip . . • 
 
 dipi.ing . 
 
 i-.al-, ti carry 
 
 1 1. ilrii-« . 
 
 c .-!< red 
 
 (■ '■ liarbuur 
 
 < ... m, cry of 
 
 '.■ r«, «Ly in l*d repute 
 
 nloft, JackanaiH-'Ji 
 
 '8 Lane 
 to 
 
 . ! .,1-1 . 
 
 < ,1.11, Ucnry 
 
 I . i ..I'M . 
 
 .■A hulydirMd 
 
 ■I -'■'K 
 
 Ml'l |iilo 
 
 i,»ven, the trt« in 
 br«rd Lcfuro the uigbtingale 
 
 Auum LMrjnaM 
 
 
 PAGE 
 164 
 
 •220 
 331 
 
 250 
 360 
 2.-.3 
 376 
 7 
 204 
 254 
 344 
 202 
 218 
 353 
 226 
 354 
 233 
 226 
 22 1: 
 357 
 103 
 356 
 330 
 25 
 27 
 62 
 336 
 173 
 IHt 
 325 
 17lt 
 200 
 305 
 178 
 243 
 250 
 222 
 i;»o 
 
 310 
 
 23 
 
 266 
 
 306 
 
 327 
 
 72 
 
 127 
 
 282 
 
 6 
 
 220 
 137 
 13 
 238 
 176 
 157 
 
 of a Lawd 
 
 depart .... 
 
 deserve .... 
 
 devil, the, iu crystal . 
 
 dipsas . . ■ • 
 
 do withal . . . ■ 
 
 Dondego 
 
 double chin, the characteristic 
 
 draw dun out o' the mire 
 
 Dunkirks . . . • 
 
 dun's the mouse 
 
 durance .... 
 
 Early up and never the nearer. 
 
 Eastward IIo, origin of the title of 
 
 Elizabeth, Queen, allusion to her last days 
 
 Elizabeth, Princess, allusion to her marriage 
 
 enginous wheels 
 
 esteem 
 
 e.vliibition 
 
 Far-fet is good for ladies 
 
 Farewell, Father Snot 
 
 Finch, Sir Thomas 
 
 fins of the eyelids 
 
 flupdragons 
 
 flaw 
 
 fleetest 
 
 Flood, ballad of 
 
 fund . 
 
 fondly . 
 
 foot-cloth . 
 
 Ford, John 
 
 forcsptiken 
 
 forgetful 
 
 fo.\, an English 
 
 fraight . 
 
 French rider 
 
 French disease, allusion to its effects 
 
 frocs . 
 
 (JiiUcy-foist ...... 
 
 garden -huuso ..... 
 
 garlic with a whit« head and a green stiilk 
 gcntlonian-ushcr .... 
 
 Uorinan clock ..... 
 
 (tillian of Brentford .... 
 
 give aim ...... 
 
 Kbck 
 
 GihI rvfuBC luo . 
 
 UikI'm ungcl, none o' . . . . 
 G.kI'h Hlid, by . 
 gold chain worn by Kt<^'wanls 
 OoltlNiiiitiiH' How ..... 
 giMnl cheap ..... 
 
 (jrillith, Margaret, with the honi in her fore 
 h>ad, pndiably alluded to. 
 
 I'AGE 
 
 196 
 335 
 30 
 338 
 271 
 198 
 253 
 
 .I.-) ;< 
 
 254 
 241 
 220 
 
 298 
 206 
 12S 
 376 
 7S 
 295 
 114 
 
 o5S 
 250 
 105 
 
 07 
 
 114 
 
 7 
 
 376 
 
 307 
 
 34 
 
 172 
 
 7 
 
 113 
 
 300 
 
 50 
 
 92 
 
 34 
 
 245 
 
 2a9 
 203 
 270 
 
 87 
 •J 10 
 
 20 
 
 114 
 
 7 
 
 259 
 
 825 
 
 78 
 
 42 
 
INDEX TO 
 
 THE NOTES. 
 
 381 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 grincomes ....... 
 
 253 
 
 kissing-comfits ..... 
 
 95 
 
 guarded 
 
 386 
 
 Knight of Rhodes 
 
 33 
 
 guarded sumpter-cloth .... 
 
 80 
 
 — St. Michael 
 
 33 
 
 gue 
 
 26 
 
 the Golden Fleece . 
 
 33 
 
 guess 
 
 315 
 
 the Holy Ghost . . . . 
 
 33 
 
 
 
 4-1.^ A ■.,-.,,,„ «:.,4-:«-. 
 
 33 
 33 
 
 Hamlet, Shakespeare's, its popularity . 
 
 241 
 
 xne xvnnunciaiiion . . , 
 
 ■ — tiie vjrarter .... 
 
 hangers. ...... 
 
 226 
 
 Knight's ward, the .... 
 
 168 
 
 hangmen ...... 
 
 179 
 
 Kyd's Spanish Tragedy, allusion to 
 
 220 
 
 happUy ....... 
 
 12 
 
 
 
 Harding, George, Baron Berkeley 
 
 55 
 
 Lambeth-Marsh 
 
 232 
 
 hare, melancholic ..... 
 
 26 
 
 lancepersado ..... 
 
 190 
 
 harness ...... 
 
 174 
 
 Lannoy, Charles de .... 
 
 80 
 
 
 197 
 
 lapwing with the shell on its head 
 
 13 
 
 Harvey, John, his hexameters 
 
 327 
 
 latten ....... 
 
 136 
 
 
 236 
 
 laurer ...... 
 
 377 
 
 Hoby's translation of Castiglione's Courtier 
 
 209 
 
 leaguer ....... 
 
 80 
 
 hog-rubber ...... 
 
 131 
 
 liberal ...... 
 
 195 
 
 Hole, the 
 
 168 
 
 lieger ambassadors .... 
 
 18 
 
 
 3 
 
 liver the seat of amorous passions 
 
 172 
 
 in it and one in The Widow. 
 
 270 
 
 livery and seisin ..... 
 
 111 
 
 
 60 
 
 Long-lane 
 
 218 
 
 horse-flesh in sack .... 
 
 229 
 
 long spoon, he had need of one that eats witl 
 
 
 hot-house ...... 
 
 209 
 
 the devil ..... 
 
 136 
 
 human ....... 
 
 193 
 
 Lowin, John ..... 
 
 325 
 
 Humourous Lovers by the Duke of New 
 
 
 Lozenges of sanctified sincerity 
 
 343 
 
 castle, — song in it now first printec 
 
 
 luxurious ...... 
 
 . 63 
 
 from a MS. ..... 
 
 257 
 
 lycanthropia ...... 
 
 . 93 
 
 Hungarians 
 
 240 
 
 lyam . ..... 
 
 7 
 
 
 240 
 
 
 
 Hyijermnestra 
 
 48 
 
 Malakatoones 
 
 . 112 
 
 
 
 mandrake ...... 
 
 . 72 
 
 Imbraids • 
 
 352 
 
 mantoons . . . . . 
 
 . 112 
 
 impart ...... 
 
 178 
 
 maquereUe ..... 
 
 . 240 
 
 in by the week ..... 
 
 18 
 
 marry, muff ...... 
 
 . 274 
 
 ingenious ...... 
 
 64 
 
 matachin . . . 
 
 . 48 
 
 ingeniously ...... 
 
 26 
 
 maugre ...... 
 
 159 
 
 
 109 
 
 means ...... 
 
 . 357 
 
 inteered ...... 
 
 367 
 
 measure ...... 
 
 . 349 
 
 
 314 
 
 Meg, Long, of Westminster 
 
 239 
 
 Ii-eland breeds no poison .... 
 
 16 
 
 merely ....... 
 
 292 
 
 Irish trees ..... 
 
 376 
 
 Middleton, Thomas .... 
 
 56 
 
 Irish gamester ..... 
 
 6 
 
 minioning ...... 
 
 . 350 
 
 Irish, after-game at . 
 
 132 
 
 moil ...... 
 
 . 22 
 
 Island Voyage, the .... 
 
 262 
 
 Moon, old ...... 
 
 260 
 
 
 
 More-clacke 
 
 . 226 
 
 Jade ...... 
 
 317 
 
 mot ....... 
 
 376 
 
 
 
 mother, the ..... 
 
 68 
 
 yellow ..... 
 
 8 
 
 much ....... 
 
 339 
 
 
 
 mum-chance ..... 
 
 218 
 
 Devil is an ass .... 
 
 350 
 
 mummia ...... 
 
 5 
 
 allusion to . . . 
 
 362 
 
 Muscovy glass ..... 
 
 336 
 
 Julio ....... 
 
 23 
 
 mutton. ...... 
 
 164 
 
 jumps ...... 
 
 201 
 
 
 
 
 
 Nest of goblets ..... 
 
 264 
 
 Kempe's Nine Daies Wonder, allusion to 
 
 237 
 
 nice 
 
 210 
 
382 
 
 INDEX TO THE NOTES. 
 
 Nicholas, St., h'lB clerks 
 night-caps . - ■ • ■ 
 
 noddy 
 
 noise of fiddlers ... 
 NorOivcard Ho, origin of the title of 
 
 Oak, the builder . 
 o'erpeiae . . • 
 
 of 
 
 Ostend, siege of . 
 out o* cry . 
 OTertbwart 
 owed 
 
 Palped ... 
 
 pantAblet ... 
 pantofles .... 
 Parmenonu luem, nothing ad 
 partridge purged by laurel . 
 pa«ltMl .... 
 pat'-hvn worn for the rheum 
 I«ti'ncc, the herb . 
 I , .;■-, the middle aisle of . 
 l. .>Wh:irf 
 
 1':.-:.. th.- 
 
 i:,. " rl,nf-l 
 
 iia, lUchard 
 
 laaxery 
 
 ■ fur Fortune 
 
 m, their oocanional cxtemi>oriziiig 
 
 lulav-k kharcd 
 
 |«jmabdcr ...... 
 
 |»ur'J<ihn ...... 
 
 Pujjc, funn iu wbi' '■ '■'- •l.^ti.in 1h di-ciuri-d 
 |>u|mluttB . . 
 
 «• ,.,. ..I ».,■«... 
 
 |««|«rtiai 
 
 PAGE 
 
 295 
 66 
 
 , 258 
 2'J2 
 206 
 
 19 
 359 
 l.';6 
 210 
 208 
 243 
 
 %5 
 
 162 
 222 
 263 
 326 
 
 44 
 5 
 216 
 255 
 218 
 272 
 217 
 205 
 
 75 
 6 
 
 51 
 
 ;'.55 
 ;U2 
 
 .•343 
 264 
 
 wa; 
 
 231 
 80 
 70 
 
 2 It 6 
 14 
 
 :i.''.4 
 
 133 
 33 
 155 
 274 
 152 
 :!5y 
 lit 
 117 
 ••175 
 211 
 
 
 003 
 
 152 
 2:i2 
 152 
 252 
 
 
 PAOB 
 
 purchase .....•• 
 
 74 
 
 purse-nets ...... 
 
 130 
 
 Quat (for Ikiuat) 
 
 31 
 
 quat 
 
 115 
 
 Quecnhlve 
 
 232 
 
 quest-houses 
 
 253 
 
 
 253 
 
 
 
 quit ....•••• 
 
 5 
 
 quoted ........ 
 
 27 
 
 Ready, to make one'.s self . . . . 
 
 114 
 
 reclaimed . . . . . . . 
 
 30 
 
 regardant ...•••• 
 
 163 
 
 regreets ....... 
 
 162 
 
 resolved ....••• 
 
 20 
 
 rid ground ....•• 
 
 273 
 
 rife .....•• 
 
 2l'9 
 
 rifle 
 
 2S0 
 
 ring, running at the . 
 
 60 
 
 rings with Death's-heads on them . 
 
 270 
 
 rise 
 
 214 
 
 roaring boys ....•• 
 
 66 
 
 Ruchelle church-man .... 
 
 342 
 
 room ....... 
 
 326 
 
 ro.<ie ....... 
 
 41 
 
 rosemary ...... 
 
 45 
 
 Rosiclear 
 
 356 
 
 Rowley, William ..... 
 
 2;!i! 
 
 rushes for strewing floors 
 
 21 
 
 Saddle, poisoning the pummel of a . 
 
 36 
 
 sailness ...... 
 
 9l> 
 
 salt, the . . .... 
 
 34 
 
 sconce ...... 
 
 337 
 
 sennet ..... . . 
 
 6 
 
 set the hare's-head against the goose-giblets 
 
 245 
 
 Sliakesjieare and Ben Jonson, anecdote of 
 
 136 
 
 hliakiiig of the sheets .... 
 
 . 240 
 
 shaiuois ...... 
 
 19 
 
 hlicars, there goes but a pair of, &c. 
 
 . 354 
 
 shins, blows on tlie, a puuishmcnt in Ru.ssia 
 
 . 30 
 
 slioot the bridge .... 
 
 . 32 
 
 Slirove-Tuesday, iiroutices riotou.s on 
 
 . 274 
 
 Siihmen ...... 
 
 . 260 
 
 Sinkl.) 
 
 . 325 
 
 slrnili np]iliod to females 
 
 . 214 
 
 Hllltt<'d 
 
 . 351 
 
 Hh'p ...... 
 
 115 
 
 Sly, WiUiaiu 
 
 . 325 
 
 itmoor .... 
 
 44 
 
 soIIh ....... 
 
 . 343 
 
 Soiiienwt, Carr, Eiirl of . 
 
 . 372 
 
 HKUjCH frt<<|uontIy omitted in the printed copie 
 
 8 
 
 of old pbiya . . • . 
 
 45 
 
 twjun)! ....... 
 
 . 239 
 
so-w-gelder, his horn . 
 
 span-counter . 
 
 Spanish fig 
 
 spurs that gingled worn by 
 
 squibs running on lines 
 
 squirrility 
 
 stalking-horse 
 
 state of floods 
 
 states 
 
 statute against vagabonds 
 
 stewed prunes . 
 
 stibium 
 
 stigmatic 
 
 Stilliard, the 
 
 stock 
 
 stools on the stage 
 
 strage 
 
 Sturbridge Fair 
 
 suburbs, the 
 
 sugar-loaf 
 
 surbated 
 
 surphling 
 
 Switzers borrowed 
 
 swoop, at one 
 
 Table-board 
 
 take her bells 
 
 take us with you 
 
 Tasso quoted 
 
 tavern-token 
 
 taxation 
 
 tenpenny infidel, the 
 
 tent 
 
 than 
 
 thou'st 
 
 Three merry men, &c. song of 
 
 thrill 
 
 toderers 
 
 Toledo, a 
 
 torved 
 
 tradesmen darkening the 
 
 traverse 
 
 trochQus and crocodile, fable of the 
 
 trussing 
 
 Turnbull-street 
 
 BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRrMTF.RS, WHITEFRIARS. 
 
L) 
 

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