LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 RIVERSIDE
 
 
 ^
 
 lEatlg iEnglist) dramatists 
 
 FIVE . . . . 
 ANONYMOUS PLAYS 
 
 (Fourth Series)
 
 iSaili) iSnglisl) Uraiiiatists 
 
 FIVE 
 ANONYMOUS PLAYS 
 
 (Fourth Series) 
 
 comprising 
 
 Appius and Virginia — The Marriage of Wit and 
 
 Science — Grim the Collier of Croydon — Common 
 
 Conditions — The Marriage of Wit and Wisdom — 
 
 Note- Book and Word- List 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 JOHN S. FARMER 
 
 This edition, piihlished in 1966, 
 
 is a farsiniilf of llic <<litioii imMislici] by llie 
 
 EARLY ENGLISH IJKAMA SUCIETV, LONDON 
 
 in 1908 
 
 CHAHLKS W. TRAYLEN 
 GUILDIOHD, ENGLAND
 
 F4^
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA 
 
 A. p. IV.
 
 A new Tragical Comedy of Appius and Virginia. 
 Wherein is lively expressed a rare example 
 of the virtue of Chastity by Virginia's 
 Constancy in wishing rather to be slain 
 at her own Father's hands, than to be 
 deflowered of the wicked Judge Appius. 
 By R. B. 
 
 ViRGINIUS 
 
 Mater 
 
 Virginia 
 
 Haphazard 
 
 Mansipulus 
 Mansipula 
 subservus 
 Appius 
 
 j9amec( : 
 
 Conscience 
 
 Justice 
 
 Claudius 
 
 Rumour 
 
 Comfort 
 
 Reward 
 
 Doctrina 
 
 Memory 
 
 Imprinted at London by William How for Richard Ihones. 
 
 1575.
 
 APPIUS AND VIRGINIA 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 Qui cupis aethereas et summas scandere sedes, 
 
 Vim simul ac fraudem discute, care, tibi. 
 Fraus hie nulla juvat, non fortia facta juvabunt : 
 
 Sola Dei tua te trahet tersa fides. 
 Qui placet in terris, intactae paludis instar, 
 
 Vivere Virginiam nitore, virgo, sequi : 
 Quos tulit et luctus, discas [et] gaudia magna, 
 
 Vitae dum Parcae scindere fila parent. 
 Hue ades, O virgo pariter moritura, sepulchre; 
 
 Sic ait, et facies pallida morte mutat. 
 
 Who doth desire the trump of fame to sound 
 
 unto the skies, 
 Or else who seeks the holy place where mighty 
 
 Jove he lies, [puissant strength, 
 
 He must not by deceitful mind, nor yet by 
 But by the faith and sacred life he must it win 
 
 at length. 
 And what she be that virgin's life on earth 
 
 would gladly lead. 
 The floods that Virginia did fall I wish her [for 
 
 to] read : [at death : 
 
 Her dolor and her doleful loss, and yet her joys 
 Come, virgins pure, to grave with me, quoth 
 
 she with latest breath. [to hear, 
 
 You lordlings all, that present be this tragedy 
 
 B 2
 
 4 Appius and Virginia 
 
 Note well what zeal and love herein doth well 
 
 appear. 
 
 And, ladies, you that linked are in wedlock 
 
 bands for ever, [perish never. 
 
 Do imitate the life you see, whose fame will 
 
 But virgi^ins you, O ladies fair ! for honour of 
 
 your name [fame. 
 
 Do lead the life apparent here, to win immortal 
 Let not the blinded god of Love, as poets term 
 
 him so, [of woe. 
 
 Nor Venus with her venery, nor lechers, cause 
 Your virgins' name to sf)ot or file : dear dames, 
 
 observe the life 
 That fair Virginia did observe, who rather 
 
 wish[ed] the knife [chastity : 
 
 Of father's hand, her life to end, than spot her 
 As she did wail, wail you her wont, you maids 
 
 of courtesy. [annoy, 
 
 If any by example here would shun that great 
 Our author would rejoice in heart, and we 
 
 would leap for joy. 
 Would gods that our endeavours may as well 
 
 to please your ears. 
 As is our author's meaning here, then were 
 
 we void of fears. [first attempt, 
 
 But patiently we wish you bear with this our 
 Which surely will to do our best, then yield us 
 
 no contempt : [to receive. 
 
 And as you please in patient wise our first for 
 Ere long a better shall you win, if God do 
 
 grant us leave. 
 
 Enter Virginius. 
 [Virginius.] Before the time that fortune's 
 
 lot did show each fate his doom. 
 Or bird or beast, or fish or fowl, or earth had 
 
 taken room,
 
 Appius and Virginia 5 
 
 The gods they did decree to frame — the thing 
 
 is ended now — 
 The heavens and the planets eke, and moist 
 
 from air to bow. 
 Then framed they the man of mould and clay, 
 
 and gave him time to reign, 
 As seemed best their sacred minds, to run and 
 
 turn again. [side 
 
 They framed also, after this, out of his tender 
 A piece of much formosity with him for to 
 
 abide. [awhile, 
 
 From infancy to lusty youth, and so to reign 
 And well to live, till CEtas he unwares do him 
 
 beguile. 
 Therewith to see these gifts of them on 
 
 grounded cave to view. 
 And daintily to deck them up, which after 
 
 they may rue. 
 Therefore I thank the gods above that yield to 
 
 me such fate [loving mate. 
 
 To link to me so just a spouse, and eke so 
 By her I have a virgin pure, an imp of 
 
 heavenly race ; 
 Both sober, meek, and modest too, and virtuous 
 
 in like case. 
 To temple will I wend therefore to yield the 
 
 gods their praise, 
 For that they have thus luckily annexed to 
 
 my days. 
 But stay ! behold the peerless sparks, whereof 
 
 my tongue did talk. 
 Approach in presence of my sight : to church I 
 
 deem they walk. 
 But stay I will, and shroud me secretly awhile 
 To see what wit or counsel grave proceedeth 
 
 from their style.
 
 6 Appius and Virginia 
 
 Here entereth Mater and Virginia. 
 [Mater.] The pert and pricking prime of 
 youth ought chastisement to have, 
 But thou, dear daughter, needest not; thyself 
 
 doth show thee grave. 
 To see how Phoebus with his beams hath youth 
 
 so much infected, 
 It doth me woe to see them crave the thing 
 should be detected. [be desired, 
 
 I draw to grave and nought can leave of thee to 
 As much as duty to thy dear, as reason hath 
 required : [father thine. 
 
 My sovereign lord and friendly pheer Virginius, 
 To nurse as doth become a child, when bones 
 are buried mine. 
 Virginia. Refell your mind of mourning 
 plaints ; dear mother, rest your mind ! 
 For though that duty dainty were, dame nature 
 
 will me bind 
 So much to do ; and further force of gods that 
 
 rule the skies. 
 The globe, and eke the element; they would 
 me else despise. 
 Mater. Then if the gods have granted thee 
 such grace to love thy sire. 
 When time shall choose thee out a make, be 
 
 constant, I require : 
 Love, live, and like him well, before you grant 
 
 him grace or faith. 
 So shall your love continue long, experience 
 thus he saith. 
 Virginia. I grant, dear dame, I do agree 
 When time shall so provide; 
 But tender youth and infancy 
 Doth rather wish me bide. 
 What, should I lose Diana's gift
 
 Appius and Virginia 7 
 
 And eke the spring to shun, 
 
 By which Actaeon fatally 
 
 His final race did run? 
 
 Should I as abject be esteemed 
 
 Throughout Parnassus hill, 
 
 Or should my virgin's name be filed, 
 
 It were too great a skill. 
 
 But yet it is unspotted ; lo, 
 
 Right well I do conceive 
 
 When wedlock doth require the same. 
 
 With parents' love and leave, 
 
 Yet obstinate I will not be ; 
 
 But willing will me yield 
 
 When you command, and not before; 
 
 Then duty shall me shield. 
 
 Virginius. Ah gods, that rule and reign in 
 
 heavens, in seas, in floods, in lands. 
 Two couple such, I surely deem, you never 
 
 made with hands. 
 Ah gods, why do ye not compel each dame the 
 
 like to show, [know? 
 
 And every imp of her again her duty thus to 
 I cannot stay my tongue from talk, I needs 
 
 must call my dear. 
 O spouse, well-met! and daughter too; what 
 
 news? how do you cheer? 
 Mater. O dear Virginius, joy to me ! O 
 
 peerless spouse and mate ! 
 In health, I praise the gods, I am, and joyful 
 
 for thy state. 
 Virginius. Virginia, my daughter dear. 
 How standeth all with thee? 
 
 Virginia. Like happy state, as mother told, 
 
 like joyful sight to me. 
 Virginius. By the gods, wife ! I joy me that 
 
 have such a treasure,
 
 8 Appius and Virginia 
 
 Such g:em and such jewel, surmounting" all 
 
 measure, 
 Such a happy spouse, such a fortunate dame, 
 That no blot or stain can impair her fame, 
 Against such an imp and graft of my tree, 
 As clear doth surmount all others that be. 
 Mater. Nay, rather, dear spouse, how 
 
 much is my case 
 To be now advanced by such happy grace. 
 Doth daily distil : my husband so loving, 
 (iranting and giving to all thing behoving, 
 Joying in me and in the fruit of my womb : 
 Who would not requite it, the g^ods yield their 
 And if it be I, the gods do destroy me, [doom. 
 Rather than sin so sore should annoy me. 
 
 Virf^inius. O wife, refell thy wishing for 
 
 Myself thy fault right well do know : [woe, 
 
 And rather I wish myself to be slain [sustain. 
 
 Than thou or thy daughter ought woe should 
 
 Virginia. O father, my comfort ! O mother, 
 
 my joy ! 
 
 dear and O sovereign ! do cease to employ 
 Such dolorous talking where dangers are 
 
 none : [moan ? 
 
 Where joys are attendant what needeth this 
 You matron, you spouse, you nurse and you 
 
 wife. 
 You comfort, you only the sum of his life; 
 You husband, you heart, you joy, and you 
 
 pleasure, [treasure; 
 
 You king and you kaiser too, her only 
 You father, you mother, my life doth sustain, 
 
 1 babe, and I bliss, your health am again. 
 Forbear then your dolor, let mirth be fre- 
 quented, 
 
 Let sorrow depart, and not be attempted.
 
 Appius and Virginia 9 
 
 Virginius. O wife, O spouse, I am content ! 
 
 Mater. O husband ! 
 
 Virginia. O father, we do consent. 
 
 Sing here. 
 
 All sing this. 
 The trustiest treasure in earth, as we see, 
 Is man, wife, and children in one to agree; 
 Then friendly and kindly let measure be mixed 
 With reason in season, where friendship is 
 
 fixed. 
 Virginius [sings]. When nature nursed first 
 
 of all, young Alexander learned, 
 Of whom the poets mention make, in judgment 
 
 so discerned, 
 O, what did want, that love procured, his vital 
 
 end well near? 
 This is the hope : where parents love, their 
 
 children do not fear, 
 
 All sing this. 
 The trustiest treasure in earth, as we see. 
 Is man, wife, and children, (Src. 
 
 Mater [sings]. What time King Nisus 
 
 would not let his daughter to he taught 
 Of any one correcting hand to virtue to be 
 
 brought, [tresses clear, 
 
 She, void of duty, cut his locks and golden 
 Whereby his realm was overrun, and she was 
 
 paid her hire. 
 
 All sing this. 
 The trustiest treasure in earth, as we see, 
 Is man, wife, and children, ^c. 
 
 Virginia [sings]. When Daedalus from Crete 
 With Icarus his joy, [did fly 
 
 He, nought regarding father's words, 
 Did seek his own annoy.
 
 10 Appius and Virginia 
 
 He mounted up into the skies, 
 
 Whereat the gods did jro7vn, 
 
 And Phoehus sore his wings did fry, 
 
 And headlong flings him down. 
 
 All sing this. 
 
 The trustiest treasure in earth, as we see, 
 
 Is man, wife, and children, (''•^c. 
 
 Virginius [sings again]. Then sith that par- 
 tiality doth partly discord move. 
 
 And hatred oftentimes doth creep where over- 
 much we love ; [7vill sound. 
 
 And if we love no whit at all, the faming trump 
 
 Come, wife! come, spouse! come, daughter 
 dear! let measure bear the ground. 
 
 All sing this. 
 
 The trustiest treasure in earth, as we see, 
 
 Is man, wife, and children in one to agree; 
 
 Then friendly and kindly let measure he mixed 
 
 With reason in season, where friendship is 
 fixed. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 Here entereth Haphazard the Vice. 
 [Haphazard.] Very well, sir ! very well, sir! 
 it shall be done 
 
 As fast as ever I can prepare : 
 
 Who dips with the devil, he had need have a 
 long- spoon, 
 
 Or else full small will be his fare. 
 
 Yet a proper gentleman I am, of truth : 
 
 Yea, that may ye see by my long side-gown : 
 
 Yea, but what am I ? a scholar, or a school- 
 master, or else some youth : 
 
 A lawyer, a student, or else a country clown? 
 
 A broom-man, a basket-maker, or a baker of 
 pies, 
 
 A flesh or a fishmonger, or a sower of lies?
 
 Appius and Virginia 11 
 
 A louse or a louser, a leek or a lark, 
 
 A dreamer, a drumble, a fire or a spark? 
 
 A caitiff, a cut-throat, a creeper in corners, 
 
 A hairbrain, a hangrnan, or a grafter of 
 
 horners? 
 By the gods, I know not how best to devise, 
 My name or my property well to disguise. 
 A merchant, a may-pole, a man or a mackerel, 
 A crab or a crevis, a crane or a cockerel? 
 Most of all these my nature doth enjoy ; 
 Sometime I advance them, soonetime I destroy. 
 A maid or a mussel-boat, a wife or a wild duck? 
 As bold as blind bayard, as wise as a wood- 
 cock. 
 As fine as fi 'pence, as proud as a peacock, 
 As stout as a stockfish, as meek as a meacock. 
 As big as a beggar, as fat as a fool, 
 As true as a tinker, as rich as an owl : [trace, 
 With hey-trick, ho-troll, trey-trip and trey- 
 Troll-hazard in a vengeance, I beshrew his 
 
 knave's face ! 
 For tro and troll-hazard keep such a range. 
 That poor Haphazard was never so strange. 
 But yet, Haphazard, be of good cheer, 
 Go play and repast thee, man, be merry to-yere ! 
 Though victual be dainty and hard for to get, 
 Yet perhaps a number will die of the sweat : 
 Though it be in hazard, yet happily I may. 
 Though money be lacking, yet one day go gay. 
 
 Enter Mansipulus. 
 [Mansipulus.] When, Maud — with a pesti- 
 lence ! what, mak'st thou no haste? 
 Of barberry incense belike thou wouldest taste ! 
 By the god.<?, I have stayed a full great while — 
 My lord he is near at hand by this at the 
 church-stile —
 
 12 Appius and Virginia 
 
 And all for Maud Mumble-turd, that mange- 
 pudding Madge. 
 By the gods, if she hie not, I'll give her my 
 badge ! 
 
 [Enter Mansipula. 
 
 Mansipula. What, drake-nosed drivel, begin 
 
 you to flout? [man lout ! 
 
 I'll fry you in a faggot-stick, by Cock, good- 
 
 You boaster, you bragger, you brawling knave, 
 
 I'll pay thee thy forty-pence, thou brawling 
 
 slave ! 
 My lady's great business belike is at end 
 When you, goodman dawcock, lust for tc 
 wend. [ing pie, 
 
 You cod's-head, you crack-rope, you chatter- 
 Have with ye, have at ye, your manhood to 
 
 try ! 
 [Mansipula attacks Mansipulus, Haphazard 
 
 intervening. 
 Haphazard. What ! hold your hands, 
 masters ! What ! fie for shame, fie ! 
 What culling, what lulling, what stir have we 
 
 here? 
 
 What tugging, what lugging, what pugging 
 
 by the ear? [strife ! 
 
 What — part and be friends, and end all this 
 
 Mansipulus. Nay, rather I wish her the end 
 
 of my knife. [receive, 
 
 Mansipula. Draw it, give me it, I will it 
 
 So that for to place it I might have good leave : 
 
 By the gods ! but for losing my land, life and 
 
 living, [thriving. 
 
 It should be so placed he should have ill- 
 
 Mansipulus. By the gods ! how ungraciously 
 
 the vixen she chatteth. 
 Mansipula. And he even as knavishly my 
 answer he patteth.
 
 Appius and Virg^inia '3 
 
 Haphazard. Here is nought else but railing 
 of words out of reason, 
 Now tugging, now tattling, now muzzling in 
 
 season. 
 For shame ! be contented, and leave off this 
 brawling. 
 Mansipulus. Content ! for I shall repent it 
 
 for this my tongue-wrawling. 
 Mansipula. Thou knave ! but for thee, ere 
 this time of day, 
 My lady's fair pew had been strawed full gay 
 With primroses, cowslips, and violets sweet, 
 With mints and with marigolds, and marjoram 
 meet, [thee: 
 
 Which now lieth uncleanly, and all 'long of 
 That a shame recompense thee for hind'ring of 
 me ! 
 Mansipulus. Ah, pretty prank-parnel ! the 
 cushion and book [here, look ! 
 
 Whereon he should read and kneel are present; 
 My lord, when he seeth me, he will cast such 
 
 an eye 
 As pinch will my heart near ready to die; 
 And thuswise, and thuswise, his hand will be 
 walking ; [packing ! 
 
 With, Thou precious knave ! away ! get thee 
 Here let him [pretend to] fight. 
 Haphazard. Nay then, by the mass, it's 
 time to be knacking : 
 No words at all, but to me he is pointing. 
 Nay, have at you again ! you shall have your 
 anointing. 
 Mansipula. Body of mc ! hold, if ye can ! 
 What, will you kill such a prop>cr man? 
 
 Haphazard. Nay, sure I have done, when 
 women do spf-ak. 
 Why would the knave my patience so break?
 
 14 Appius and Virginia 
 
 Mansipulus. Well, I must be gone, there is 
 no remedy. [honesty ! 
 
 For fear, my tail makes buttons, by mine 
 Haphazard. For reverence on your face, 
 your nose and your chin. 
 By the gods ! have ye heard such an un- 
 mannerly villain? [rudeness. 
 Mansipula. I never heard one so rank of 
 Mansipulus. In faith, it is but for lack of 
 lewdness. [talking. 
 But here I burn day-light, while thus I am 
 Away, come, Mansipula, let us be walking ! 
 Mansipula. Contented, Mansipulus; have 
 
 with thee with speed. 
 Haphazard. Nay, stay yet, my friends, I am 
 
 not agreed. 
 Mansipula. We dare not tarry, by God, we 
 
 swear. 
 Haphazard. Nay, tarry, take comfort with 
 you for to bear : 
 It is but in hazard and if you be miss'd. 
 And so it may happen you feel not his fist. 
 Perhaps he is stay'd by talk with some friend : 
 It is but in hazard : then sing, ere you wend. 
 Let hope be your helper, your care to defend. 
 Mansipulus. By hap or by hazard, we sing 
 or we cry. 
 Then sing, let us say so, let sorrow go by. 
 Mansipula. We can be but beaten, that is 
 the worst. 
 
 Enter Suhservus. 
 [Suhservus.] What ho, Mansipulus ! thou 
 knave, art thou curs'd? 
 My lord standeth talking, and I gape for thee. 
 Come, away with a wannion ! run, haste and 
 hie ! [I pray thee : 
 
 Mansipulus. Nay, hearken, Subservus, stay,
 
 Appius and Virg^inia 15 
 
 Let us have a song, and then have with thee. 
 Subservus. Content, if thou hie thee. 
 
 Sing here all. 
 Hope so, and hap so, in hazard of threat'ning. 
 The worst that can hap, lo, in end is but 
 beating. 
 
 Mansipulus [sings]. What, if my lording do 
 
 chance for to miss me, [me: 
 
 The worst that can happen is, cudgel will kiss 
 In such kind of sweetness, I swear by God's 
 
 mother. 
 It will please me better, it were on some other. 
 [AIL] With thwick thwack, with thump 
 
 thump, 
 With bobbing and bum, 
 Our side-saddle shoulders shall shield that doth 
 
 come. 
 Hope so, and hap so, in hazard, €rc. 
 
 Mansipula [sings]. If case that my lady do 
 
 threaten my case. 
 No cause to contrary, but bear her a space. 
 Until she draw home, lo, where so she will use 
 
 me, [me. 
 
 As doctors doth doubt it, how I should excuse 
 
 [All.] With thwick thwack, with thump 
 
 thump, 
 With bobbing and bum. 
 Our side-saddle shoulders shall shield that doth 
 
 come. 
 Hope so, and hap so, in hazard, &c. 
 
 Subservus [sings]. What if your company 
 
 cause me have woe, 
 I mind not companions so soon to forego. 
 Let hope hold the helmet, till brunt it he past. 
 For blows a/re but buffets, and words but a 
 
 blast.
 
 1 6 Appius and Virginia 
 
 [AIL] With thwick thwack, with thump 
 
 thump. 
 With bobbing and bum, 
 Our side-saddle shoulders shall shield that doth 
 
 come. 
 Hope so, and hap so, in hazard, cSr'c. 
 
 Haphazard [sings]. Then let us be merry, it 
 
 is but by hap, 
 A hazardly chance may harbour a clap : 
 Bestir ye, be, merry, be glad and be joying. 
 For blows are but buffets and small time annoy- 
 ing. 
 [All.] With thwick thwack, with thump 
 
 thump. 
 With bobbing and bum, 
 Our side-saddle shoulders shall shield that doth 
 
 come. 
 Hope so, and hap so, in hazard, <5r'c. 
 
 The end of the song. 
 All speaketh this. 
 Haphazard, farewell ! the gods do thank thee. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 Haphazard. Farewell, my friends, farewell, 
 
 go prank ye ! [thee 
 
 By the gods, Haphazard, these men have tried 
 Who said thou wast no man ; sure they belied 
 
 thee. 
 By Jove, master merchant, by sea or by land, 
 Would get but small argent, If I did not stand 
 His very good master, I may say to you, 
 When he hazards in hope what hap will ensue. 
 In court I am no man — by Cock, sir, ye lie ! 
 A ploughman perhaps, or ere that he die. 
 May hap be a gentleman, a courtier or captain; 
 And hap may so hazard he may go begging : 
 Perhaps that a gentleman, heir to great land,
 
 Appius and Virgfinia 17 
 
 VV^hich selleth his living for money in hand, 
 In hazard it is the buying of more : 
 Perhaps he may ride, when spent is his store. 
 Hap may so hazard, the moon may so change, 
 That men may be masters, and wives will not 
 
 range : 
 But in hazard it is, in many a grange, 
 Lest wives wear the cod-piece, and maidens coy 
 
 strange. [tree, 
 
 As peacocks sit perking by chance in the plum- 
 So maids would be masters by the guise of this 
 
 country. 
 Haphazard each state full well that he marks, 
 If hap the sky fall, we hap may have larks. 
 Well, fare ye well now, for better or worse : 
 Put hands to your pockets, have mind to your 
 
 purse ! Exit. 
 
 Enter Judge Appius. 
 [Appius.] The furrowed face of fortune's 
 
 force my pinching pain doth move : 
 I, settled ruler of my realm, enforced am to 
 
 love. 
 Judge Appius I, the princeliest judge that 
 
 reigneth under sun, 
 And have been so esteemed long, but now my 
 
 force is none : 
 I rule no more, but ruled am ; I do not judge 
 
 but am judged ; 
 Ry beauty of Virginia my vvisdom all is trudged, 
 O peerless dame ! O passing piece ! O face of 
 
 such a feature ! [by nature. 
 
 That never erst with beauty such matched was 
 O fond Apelles, prattling fool ! why boasteth 
 
 thou so much 
 The famous't piece thou mad'st in Greece, 
 
 whose lineaments were such? 
 
 A. P. IV. C
 
 iS Appius and Virginia 
 
 Or why didst thou, deceived man, for beauty 
 
 of thy work. 
 In such a sort with fond desire, where no kind 
 
 life did lurk, [Pygmalion? 
 
 With raging fits, thou fool, run mad, O fond 
 Yet sure, if that thou saw'st my dear, the like 
 
 thou could 'st make none : 
 Then what may I ? O gods above, bend down 
 
 to hear my cry ! [Lycia by. 
 
 As once ye did to Salmacis, in pond hard 
 O, that Virginia were in case as sometime 
 
 Salmacis, 
 And in Hermaphroditus stead myself might 
 
 seek my bliss ! 
 Ah gods ! would I unfold her arms complecting 
 
 of my neck? 
 Or would I hurt her nimble hand, or yield her 
 
 such a check? 
 Would I gainsay her tender skin to bathe 
 
 where I do wash, [naked flesh? 
 
 Or else refuse her soft, sweet lips to touch my 
 Nay ! O, the gods do know my mind; I rather 
 
 would require 
 To sue, to serve, to crouch, to kneel, to crave 
 
 for my desire. 
 But out, ye gods ! ye bend your brows, and 
 
 frown to see me fare ; [my care. 
 
 Ye do not force my fickle fate, ye do not weigh 
 Unrighteous and unequal gods, unjust and eke 
 
 unsure, 
 Woe worth the time ye made me live to see 
 
 this hapless hour! [fair? 
 
 Did Iphis hang himself for love of lady not so 
 Or else did Jove the cloudy mists bend down 
 
 from lightsome air? [daughter meek, 
 
 Or as the poets mention make of Inach's
 
 Appius and Virg^inia 19 
 
 For love did he, too, make a cow, whom Inach 
 
 long did seek? 
 Is love so great to cause the quick to enter 
 
 into hell, 
 As stout Orpheus did attempt, as histories do 
 
 tell? 
 
 Then what is it that love can not? why, love 
 
 did pierce the skies ! [blinded eyes 1 
 
 Why, Pheb and famous Mercury with love had 
 
 But I, a judge, of grounded years, shall reap 
 
 to me such name. 
 As shall resound dishonour great with trump 
 of careless fame, [were unwedded ! 
 
 O, that my years were youthful yet, or that I 
 Here entereth Haphazard. 
 [Haphazard.] Why, cease, sir knight? for 
 why? perhaps of you she shall be bedded : 
 For follow my counsel, so may you me please. 
 That of careful resurging your heart shall have 
 ease. [ire 
 
 Appius. O thundering gods ! that threaten 
 And plague for each offence. 
 Yourselves, I deem, would counsel crave 
 
 In this so fit pretence : 
 And eke your nimble stretched arms 
 
 With great rewards would fly, 
 To purchase fair Virginia, 
 So dear a wight to me. 
 And, friend, I swear by Jupiter, 
 
 And eke by Juno's seat, 
 And eke by all the mysteries 
 
 Whereon thou canst entreat, 
 Thou shalt possess and have, 
 
 I will thee grant and give 
 The greatest part of all my realm. 
 For aye thee to relieve. 
 
 C 2
 
 ao Appius and Virginia 
 
 Haphazard. Well then, this is my counsel, 
 thus standeth the case ; 
 Perhaps such a fetch as may please your grace : 
 There is no more ways, but hap or hap not, 
 Either hap or else hapless, to knit up the knot : 
 And if you will hazard to venture what falls. 
 Perhaps that Haphazard will end all your 
 thralls. [persuade me, 
 
 Appius. I mean so, I will so, if thou do 
 To hap or to hazard what thing shall envade 
 
 me? 
 I king, and I kaiser, I rule and overwhelm ; 
 I do what it please me within this my realm. 
 Wherefore in thy judgment see that thou do 
 
 enter : 
 Hap life or hap death, I surely will venture. 
 Haphazard. Then thus, and in this sort 
 standeth the matter: [flatter? 
 
 What need many words, unless I should 
 Full many there be will hazard their life, 
 Happ'Iy to ease your grace of all your strife. 
 Of this kind of conspiracy now let us common : 
 Some man Virginius before you must summon. 
 And say that Virginia is none of his daughter, 
 But that Virginius by night away caught her ; 
 Then charge you the father his daughter to 
 bring; [thing: 
 
 Then do you detain her, till proved be the 
 W^hich well you may win her, she present in 
 
 house. 
 It is but haphazard, a man or a mouse. [I will ; 
 Appius. I find it, I mind it, I swear that 
 Though shame or defame do happen, no skill. 
 Here let him make as though he went 
 out, and let Conscience and Justice 
 come out fafter him], and let Con- 
 science hold in his hand a lamp burn-
 
 Appius and Virg^a 21 
 
 ing, and let Justice have a sword, and 
 hold it before Appius' breast. 
 But out, I am wounded : how am I divided ! 
 Two states of my life from me are now glided ; 
 For Conscience he pricketh me condemned, 
 And Justice saith, Judgment would have me 
 
 condemned : 
 Conscience saith, cruelty sure will detest me; 
 And Justice saith, death in th' end will molest 
 
 me : 
 And both in one sudden methinks they do cry, 
 Ihat fire eternal my soul shall destroy. 
 
 Haphazard. Why, these are but thoughts, 
 
 man : why, fie for shame, fie ! 
 For Conscience was careless, and sailing by 
 
 seas 
 Was drowned in a basket and had a disease; 
 Sore moved for pity, when he would grant 
 
 n(me. 
 For being hard-hearted was turned to a stone : 
 And sailing by Sandwich he sank for his sin. 
 Then care not for Conscience the worth of a pin. 
 And Judgment judge[d] Justice to have a 
 
 reward 
 For judging still justly, but all now is marred; 
 For gifts they are given where judgment is 
 
 none. [gone. 
 
 Thus Judgment and Justice a wrong way hath 
 Then care not for Conscience the worth of a 
 
 fable ; 
 Justice is no man, nor nought to do able. 
 
 Appius. And sayest thou so, my cured 
 
 friend? then hap as hap shall hit: 
 Let Conscience grope and Judgment crave, I 
 
 will not shrink one whit. 
 I will persever in my thought ; I will deflower 
 
 her youth;
 
 aa Appius and Virginia 
 
 I will not sure reverted be, my heart shall have 
 
 no ruth. 
 Come on, proceed, and wait on me ! I will — hap 
 
 woe or wealth, 
 Hap blunt, hap sharp, hap life, hap death — 
 th[r]ough Haphazard be of health. 
 Haphazard. At hand (quoth pick-purse) ! 
 here ready am I. 
 See well to the cut-purse : be ruled by me. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 [Enter Conscience. 
 Conscience. O clear unspotted gifts of 
 How haps thou art refused ? [Jove, 
 
 Conscience clear, what cruel mind 
 Thy truth hath thus misused? 
 
 1 spotted am by wilful will, 
 By lawless love and lust. 
 
 By dreadful danger of the life, 
 By faith that is unjust. 
 
 Justice. Ah gift of Jove ! ah fortune's face ! 
 Ah state of steady life ! 
 I Justice am, and prince of peers. 
 The end of laws and strife : 
 A guider of the common weal, 
 A guerdon to the poor ; 
 And yet hath filthy lust suppress 'd 
 My virtues in one hour. 
 Well, well ! this is the most to trust. 
 In end we shall aspire 
 To see the end of these our foes 
 With sword and eke with fire. 
 
 Conscience. O help, ye gods, we members 
 
 require ! 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
 Enter Haphazard. 
 
 [Haphazard.] When gain is no gain, sir. 
 
 And gauds nought set by,
 
 Apptos and Virg^inia 23 
 
 Nor puddings nor pie-meat 
 
 Poor knaves will come nigh, 
 
 Then hap and Haphazard 
 
 Shall have a new coat. 
 
 And so it may happen 
 
 To cut covetousness' throat. 
 
 Yea, then shall Judge Appius 
 
 Virginia obtain ; 
 
 And geese shall crack mussels 
 
 Perhaps in the rain. 
 
 Larks shall be leverets, 
 
 And skip to and fro ; 
 
 And churls shall be cods '-heads, 
 
 Perhaps and also. 
 
 But peace, for man's body ! 
 
 Haphazard, be mum ! 
 
 Fie, prattling noddy ! 
 
 Judge Appius is come. 
 
 Here entereth Judge Appius and Claudius. 
 
 [Appius.] The furies fell of Limbo lake 
 
 My princely days do short ; 
 All drown 'd in deadly ways I live, 
 
 That once did joy in sport. 
 I live and languish in my life, 
 
 As doth the wounded deer ; 
 I thirst, I crave, I call and cry, 
 
 And yet am nought the near. 
 And yet I have that me so match 
 
 Within the realm of mine : 
 But (Tantalus amidst my care) 
 
 I hunger — starve, and pine. 
 As Sisyphus, I roll the stone 
 
 In vain to top of hill, 
 That ever more uncertainly 
 
 Revolving slideth still. 
 As if to her it were to me, 
 
 What labours would I fly.
 
 24 Appiu9 and Virginia 
 
 What raging seas would I not plough 
 
 To her commodity? 
 But out alas ! I doubt it sore, 
 
 Lest drowsy Morpheus 
 His slumb'ry kingdoms granted hath 
 
 With dews and beauteous. 
 
 gods above that rule the skies : 
 Ye babes that brag in bliss : 
 
 Ye goddesses, ye Graces, you. 
 
 What burning brunt is this? 
 Bend down your ire, destroy me quick ! 
 
 Or else to grant me grace, 
 No more but that my burning breast 
 
 Virginia may embrace. 
 If case your ears be dead and deaf, 
 
 The fiend and spirits below. 
 You careless carls of Limbo lake. 
 
 Your forced mights do show. 
 Thou caitiff king of darksome dens, 
 
 Thou Pluto, plagued knave. 
 Send forth thy sacred vengeance straight, 
 
 Consume them to the grave. 
 That will not aid my case — 
 
 Claudius. Content, and if it like your grace, 
 
 I will attempt the deed : 
 
 1 summon will Virginius 
 Before your seat with speed. 
 Haphazard. Do so, my lord : be you not 
 
 afraid. 
 And so you may happen to hazard the maid : 
 It is but in hazard and may come by hap : 
 Win her or lose her, try you the trap. 
 
 Appius. By the gods, I consent to thee, 
 Claudius, now ; 
 Prepare thee in haste Virginius unto. 
 Charge him, command him, upon his allegi- 
 ance,
 
 Appius and Virg^inia 25 
 
 With all kind of speed to yield his obeisance 
 Before my seat in my consistory, 
 Subpoend of land, life and treasury. 
 Here let Claudius [commence to] go out with 
 
 Haphazard. 
 [Claudius .] No let, no stay, nor oug-ht per- 
 turbance 
 Shall cause me to omit the furtherance 
 'Of this my weighty charge. Exit. 
 
 Appius. Well, now I range at large my 
 will for to express ; 
 For look ! how Tarquin Lucrece fair by force 
 
 did once oppress, 
 Even so will I Virginia use. 
 
 Here let Conscience speak within. 
 Judge Appius, prince, O stay, refuse; 
 
 Be ruled by thy friend ! 
 What bloody death with open shame 
 Did Tarquin gain in end? 
 Appius. Whence does this pinching sound 
 
 descend? 
 Conscience. From contrite Conscience, 
 
 pricked on 
 By member of thy life, 
 Inforcea for to cry and call, 
 And all to end our strife. 
 Appius. Who art thou then? declare; be 
 
 brief ! 
 Conscience. Not flesh nor filthy lust I am, 
 But secret Conscience I, 
 Compcll'd to cry with trembling soul, 
 At point near-hand to die. 
 Appius. Why, no disease hath me ap- 
 proached, no grief doth make me grudge, 
 But want of fair Virginia, whose beauty is my 
 
 judge I 
 By her i live, by her I die, for her I joy or woe,
 
 26 Appius and Virginia 
 
 For her my soul doth sink or swim, for her I 
 
 swear I go. 
 Conscience. Ah gods, what wits doth reign ! 
 
 and yet to you unknown, 
 I die the death, and soul doth sink this filthy 
 
 flesh hath sown. 
 Appius. I force it not; I will attempt: I 
 
 stay for Claudius here ; 
 Yet will I go to meet with him to know what 
 
 news and cheer. 
 
 Here entereth Haphazard. 
 [Haphazard.] Haste for a hangman in hazard 
 
 of hemp ! 
 Run ! for a ruddock there is no such imp. 
 Claudius is knocking with hammer and stone 
 At Virginius' gate, as hard as he can lay on. 
 By the gods, my masters, Haphazard is hardy, 
 For he will run rashly, be they never so many : 
 Yea, he will sing sow's snout, and snap with 
 
 the best. 
 But peace ! who comes yonder, that jolly good 
 
 guest? 
 Here enter in [Mansipulus, Mansipula. 
 and Suhservus] with a song. 
 When men will seem misdoubtfully 
 Without an why to call and cry. 
 And fearing with temerity its jeopardy of 
 
 liberty, 
 We wish him to take to cheer his heart Hap- 
 Bold blind bayard! [hazard, 
 
 A fig for his uncourtesy 
 That seeks to shun good company. 
 
 Mansipulus. What if case that cruelty 
 
 should bustle me and jostle me, 
 And Holywand should tickle me for keeping of 
 
 good company.
 
 Appius and Virginia 37 
 
 I'll follow, by my honesty, hap Haphazard, 
 
 bold blind bayard ! 
 A fig for his uncourtesy that seeks to shun 
 
 good company. 
 
 All sing this. 
 
 When men will seem misdoubtfully 
 
 Without an why to call and cry, &^c. 
 
 Mansipula. Never was that mistress so 
 
 furious nor curious, [nor dolorous. 
 
 Nor yet her blows so boisterous, nor roisterous, 
 
 But sure I would, venturous, hap Haphazard, 
 
 bold blind bayard ! 
 A fig for his uncourtesy that seeks to shun 
 good company. 
 
 All sing this. 
 When men will seem misdoubtfully 
 Without an why to call and cry, &c. 
 
 Haphazard. Then wend ye on and follow 
 
 me, Mansipula, Mansipula, 
 Let croping cares be cast away, come follow 
 
 me, come follow me ! 
 Subservus is a jolly lout, brace Haphazard, 
 
 bold blind bayard ! 
 ^ fis f^^ ^*^ uncourtesy that seeks to shun 
 
 good company. 
 
 All sing this. 
 
 When men will seem misdoubtfully 
 
 Without an why to call and cry, ir'c. 
 
 The end of the song. 
 
 Here Haphazard speaketh. 
 [Haphazard.] Ay, by the gods, my masters, 
 I told you plain,
 
 38 Appius and Virginia 
 
 Who companies with me will desire me again. 
 But how did ye speed, I pray ye show me? 
 Was all well agreed? did nobody blow ye? 
 Mansipulus. Mass, sir ! hap did so happen 
 
 that my lord and master 
 Stayed in beholding and viewing the pasture ; 
 Which when I perceived, what excuse did I 
 
 make? 
 I came in the crossway on the nearside the 
 
 Forlake, 
 Hard by Hodge's half acre, at Gaffer Miller's 
 
 stile, [mile. 
 
 The next way round about, by the space of a 
 And at Simkin's side-ridge my lord stood talk- 
 ing, [been walking? 
 And angerly to me quoth he, Where hast thou 
 Without any staggering, I had ready my lie : 
 Out at Bridge-meadow and at Benol's-lease 
 
 (quoth I). [praised ! 
 
 Your fallings are feeding well, sir, the gods be 
 A goodly loume of beef on them is already 
 
 raised. 
 Then outsteps Francis Fabulator, that was 
 
 never my friend : [Meadow end? 
 
 How pass'd you Carter's hay-rick at Long 
 There might one (quoth he) within this few 
 
 days [essays, 
 
 With a cast-net had given four knaves great 
 Under the hedge with a pair of new cards, both 
 
 rip and fledge. 
 Is it true? quoth my lord: will this gear 
 
 never be left? [and theft. 
 
 This causes swearing and staring, prowling 
 Well (quoth my lord) take heed, lest I find it, 
 And so pass'd his way, and did no more mind 
 
 it.
 
 Appius and Virginia 29 
 
 Haphazard. By the gods, that was sport; 
 
 yea, and sport alone ! 
 Mansipula. Yea ; but I was in a worse case, 
 by Saint John ! 
 My lady in church was set full devout, 
 And hearing my coming she turned about ; 
 But as soon as I heard her snappishly sound, 
 In this sort I crouched me down to the ground. 
 And mannerly made, as though I were sad. 
 As soon as the pew then strawed I had. 
 She gave me a wink and frowardly frown, 
 Whereby I do judge she would cudgel my 
 
 gown. 
 Then I did devise a pretty fine prank, 
 A mean whereby to pick me a thank 
 Of Margery Mildon, the maid of the milk- 
 house, 
 And Stainer the stutter, the guid[e] of the store- 
 house. 
 Then was my lady's anger well gone. 
 And will be so still and the truth be not known. 
 Haphazard. By 'r Lady barefoot ! this bakes 
 
 trimly. 
 Suhservus. Nay, but I escaped more finely; 
 For I under this hedge one while did stay. 
 Then in this bush, then in that way : 
 Then slip I behind them among all the rest. 
 And seemed to commune, too, of things with 
 
 the best : 
 But so it did happen, that all things were well, 
 Hut hazard it is, lest time will truth tell. 
 
 Haphazard. Tut, tut ! that was but by hap, 
 and if it be so, 
 Well, sith it was in hazard, then let it go. 
 Suhservus. Content, by my honesty : then 
 farewell all woe !
 
 30 Appius and Virginia 
 
 Mansipulus. Come out, dog ! ye speak hap- 
 pily, of truth, if it be so. 
 All Speak. Now, Master Haphazard, fare 
 
 you well for a season ! 
 Haphazard. Let my counsel at no time with 
 
 you lie geason. 
 All Speaketh. No, by the gods ! be sure 
 
 not so. 
 Haphazard. Well, sith here is no company, 
 have with ye to Jericho. [Exit. 
 
 Enter Virginius. 
 [Virginius.] What ! so the gods they have 
 decreed to work and do by me? 
 
 I marvel why Judge Appius he such greetings 
 lets me see : 
 
 I served have his seat and state, I have main- 
 tained his weal, [such zeal ; 
 
 I have suppress *d the rebels stout, I bear to him 
 
 And now he sends to me such charge upon my 
 life and lands 
 
 Without demur or further pause, or ere ought 
 things be scann'd, [do repair, 
 
 That I in haste with posting speed to court I 
 
 To answer that alleged is before his judgment- 
 chair. 
 
 Some histories they do express, when such mis- 
 haps do fall. 
 
 They should have taken many a one ; I have 
 not one but all. 
 
 My jewels sometime precious do fade and bear 
 no hue, 
 
 My senses they do shun their course, my lights 
 do burn as blue ; 
 
 My willing wits are waxed slow, that once were 
 swift in speed ; 
 
 My heart it throbs in wondrous sort, my nose 
 doth often bleed :
 
 Appius and Virginia 31 
 
 My dreadful dreams do draw my woe, and 
 
 hateful hazard hale. 
 These tokens be of evil hap, this is the old 
 
 wives' tale. 
 But yet, O thou Virginius ! whose hoary hairs 
 
 are old, 
 Did'st treason never yet commit, of this thou 
 
 may'st be bold. 
 In Mars his games, in martial feats thou wast 
 
 his only aid, 
 The huge Charybdis' hazards thou for him 
 
 hast oft assail'd : 
 Was Scylla's force by thee oft shunn'd, or yet 
 
 Adrice land, [ever stand 
 
 Pasiphae's child, the Minotaur, did cause thee 
 To pleasure him, to serve thy liege, to keep all 
 
 things upright? 
 Thou God above, then what is it that yieldeth 
 
 me this spite? 
 Sith nothing needs misdoubted be, where 
 
 grounded cause is none, [and moan. 
 
 I enter will Judge Appius' gate, rejecting care 
 But stay, Virginius ! lo, thy prince doth enter 
 
 into place — 
 
 sovereign lord and rightful judge, the gods 
 
 do save thy grace ! 
 
 Here entereth Judge Appius and 
 Claudius. 
 [Appius.] With tender heart, Virginius, thou 
 welcome art to me. [thee ; 
 
 1 sorry am to utter out the things I hear of 
 For Claudius, a subject here, a man of mickle 
 
 fame, [shame. 
 
 Appealeth thee before my court in deed of open 
 And though indeed I love thee so as thy deserts 
 
 desire, [doth require. 
 
 Yet not so but I must judgment give, as justice
 
 32 Appius and Virginia 
 
 Virginius. My lord, and reason good it is : 
 
 your servant doth request 
 No partial hand to aid his cause, no partial 
 
 mind or breast. [your crown, 
 
 If ought I have offended you, your court or eke 
 From lofty top of turret high precipitate me 
 
 down. [committed, 
 
 If treason none by me be done, or any fault 
 Let my accusers bear the blame, and let me be 
 
 remitted. 
 Appius. Good reason, too, Virginius. Come, 
 
 Claudius, show thy mind : 
 Let justice hear, if judgment may Virginius 
 
 guilty find. 
 Claudius. Thou sovereign lord and rig^htful 
 
 judge, thus standeth now the case. 
 In tender youth, not long agone, near sixteen 
 
 years of space, [young 
 
 Virginius a thrall of mine, a child and infant 
 From me did take by subtle means, and keeps 
 
 by arm full strong : [be extended, 
 
 And here before your grace I crave, that justice 
 That I may have my thrall again, and faults 
 
 may be amended. 
 Virginius. Ah gods, that guide the globe 
 
 above, what forged tales I hear ! 
 O Judge Appius, bend your ears, while this my 
 
 crime I clear. 
 She is my child, and of my wife her tender 
 
 corpse did spring : 
 Let all the country where I dwell bear witness 
 
 of the thing. 
 
 Appius and Claudius go forth, hut 
 Appius speaketh this. 
 [Appius.] Nay, by the gods ! not so, my 
 
 friend, I do not so decree':
 
 Appius and Virginia 33 
 
 I charge thee here in pain of death thou bring- 
 
 the maid to me. [shall abide, 
 
 In chamber close, in prison sound, she secret 
 
 And no kind of wight shall talk with her, until 
 
 the truth be tried. 
 This do I charge, this I command : in pain of 
 
 death let see. 
 Without any let, that she be brought as 
 prisoner unto me. [Exit. 
 
 Here let Virginius go about the scaffold. 
 Ah fickle fall, unhappy doom ! O most un- 
 certain rate ! [in state. 
 That ever chance so churlishly, that never stay'd 
 What judge is this? what cruel wretch? what 
 
 faith doth Claudius find? 
 The gods do recompense with shame his false 
 
 and faithless mind ! 
 Well, home I must, no remedy; where shall 
 
 my soaking tears 
 Augment my woes, decrease my joys, while 
 death do rid my fears. 
 
 Here entereth Rumour. 
 [Rumour.] Come, Ventus, come ! blow forth 
 
 thy blast ! 
 Prince Eol, listen well ! 
 The filthiest fact that ever was 
 
 1, Rumour, now shall tell. 
 You gods, bend down to hear my cry, 
 
 Revengement duly show, 
 Thy Rumour craves, bid Claudius lay, 
 
 And bring Judge Appius low. 
 That wicked man, that fleshly judge. 
 
 Hath hired Claudius 
 To claim a child, the only heir 
 
 Of old Virginius : 
 A virgin pure, a queen in life, 
 
 A. p. IV. D
 
 34 Appius and Virginia 
 
 Whose state may be deplored ; 
 For why? the queen of chaste life 
 
 Is like to be deflow'red 
 By false Judge Appius, cruel wretch, 
 
 Who straitly hath commanded 
 That she to keeping- his be brought. 
 
 Prince Pluto this demanded : 
 To skies I fly, to blaze abroad 
 The trump of deep defame. 
 Revenge, you gods, this Rumour craves, 
 
 This blood and bloody shame. 
 Have through the air ! give place, you airs I 
 
 Thus is my duty done. 
 The gods confound such lecherers ! 
 Lo, Rumour, thus I run. 
 
 Virginius. O man, O mould, O muck, O 
 clay ! O hell, O hellish hound ! 
 O false Judge Appius, rabbling wretch ! is thus 
 
 thy treason found? 
 Woe worth the man that gave the seed where- 
 by ye first did spring ! 
 Woe worth the womb that bare the babe to 
 
 mean this bloody thing ! 
 
 Woe worth the paps that gave thee suck ! woe 
 
 worth the fosters eke ! [liking seek ! 
 
 Woe worth all such as ever did thy health or 
 
 O, that the graved years of mine were covered 
 
 in the clay ! 
 
 Here entereth Virginia. 
 [Virginia.] Let patience, dear father mine, 
 your rigour something stay : 
 Why do you wail in such a sort? why do you 
 weep and moan? 
 Virginius. O daughter dear and only heir, 
 my life is near begone. 
 And all for love of thee.
 
 Appius and Virginia 35 
 
 Virginia. Ah, gods, how may this be? 
 Dear father, do withdraw your dread, and let 
 
 me know the cause : 
 Myself will aid with life or death without 
 
 demur or pause. 
 Then tender your child that craveth this bound- 
 Virginius. O, hearken, dear daughter, at- 
 tend thou my sound. 
 Judge Appius, prick'd forth with filthy desire. 
 Thy person as leman doth greatly require ; 
 And no kind of entreaty, no fear, nor no shame, 
 Will he hear alleged, defending the same. 
 And straight without staying, in pain of my 
 
 death, 
 I must bring thee thither, wherefore stop my 
 
 breath ! 
 O sisters ! I search, I seek, and I crave 
 No more at your hands but death for to have. 
 Rather than see my daughter deflower'd, 
 Or else in ill sort so wildly devour'd. [favour! 
 Virginia. O father, O friendship, O fatherly 
 Whose dulcet words so sweetly do savour. 
 On knees I beseech thee to grant my request, 
 In all things according as liketh thee best. 
 Thou knowest, O my father, if I be once 
 
 spotted, [blotted : 
 
 My name and my kindred then forth will be 
 And if thou, my father, should die for my 
 
 cause, 
 The world would accompt me guilty in cause. 
 Then rather, dear father, if it be thy pleasure, 
 Grant me the death ; then keep I my treasure. 
 My lamp, my light, my life undefiled, [guiled. 
 And so may Judge Appius of flesh be be- 
 This upon my knees with humble behest. 
 Grant me, O father, my instant request. 
 
 D 2
 
 36 Appius and Virg^inia 
 
 Virginius. Then rise up, my daughter : my 
 
 answer do note 
 From mouth of thy father, whose eyes do now 
 
 float. 
 O daughter, O dear, O darling, O dame. 
 Dispatch me, I pray thee, regard not my name : 
 But yet as thou sayest, sith remedy none, 
 But leman thou must be, if I were gone, 
 And better it is to die with good fame. 
 Than longer to live to reap us but shame : 
 But if thou do die no doubt is at all. 
 But presently after myself follow shall. 
 Then end without shame, so let us persever, 
 With trump of good fame, so die shall we 
 
 never. 
 
 Virginia here kneeleth. 
 Virginia. Then, tender arms, complect the 
 
 neck : do dry thy father's tears. 
 You nimble hands, for woe whereof my loving 
 
 heart it wears. 
 
 father mine, refrain no whit your sharped 
 
 knife to take 
 From guiltless sheath my shame to end, and 
 
 body dead to make. [virgin's life; 
 
 Let not the shameless bloody judge defile my 
 Do take my head, and send it him upon your 
 
 bloody knife : 
 Bid him imbrue his bloody hands in guiltless 
 
 blood of me : [you see. 
 
 1 virgin die, he lecher lives ; he was my end, 
 No more delays — lo, kiss me first, then stretch 
 
 your strongest arm : 
 Do rid my woe, increase my joy, do ease your 
 child of harm ! 
 Virginius. O weary wits of woe or wealth, 
 O feeble aged man,
 
 Appius and Virginia 37 
 
 How can thy arm give such a blow? thy death 
 
 I wish thee then ! 
 But sith that shame with endless trump will 
 
 sound, if case thy joy 
 By means of false Judge Appius be, myself will 
 
 thee destroy. 
 
 Forgive me, babe, this bloody deed, and meekly 
 
 take thy end ! Here let him proffer a blow. 
 
 Virginia. The gods forgive thee, father 
 
 dear ! farewell, thy blow do bend. 
 
 Yet stay a while, O father dear, for flesh to 
 
 death is frail : 
 Let first my wimple bind my eyes, and then thy 
 blow assail. [may enjoy. 
 
 Now, father, work thy will on me, that life I 
 Here tie a handkercher about her eyes; 
 and then strike off her head. 
 [Virginius.] Now stretch thy hand, Vir- 
 ginius, that loth would flesh destroy. 
 O cruel hands or bloody knife, O man ! what 
 
 hast thou done? 
 Thy daughter dear and only heir her vital end 
 
 hath won. 
 Come, fatal blade, make like despatch : come, 
 
 Atropos : come, aid ! 
 Strike home, thou careless arm, with speed ; 
 of death be not afraid ! 
 
 Here entereth Comfort. 
 [Comfort.] O noble knight, Virginius, do 
 stay, be not dismay'd : 
 I, curing Comfort, present am, your dolor 
 [for] to aid. 
 Virginius. Sith joy is gone, sith life is dead, 
 What comfort can there be? 
 No more ! there is but deep despair, 
 And deadly death to me.
 
 38 Appius and Virginia 
 
 Comfort. No more, sir knight, but take 
 
 the head, and wend a while with me : 
 It shall be sent to court, for that Judge Appius 
 
 may it see. [him have, 
 
 In recompense of lecher's lust this present let 
 And stay your corpse for certain space in 
 
 coping from the grave : [whole concent. 
 So shall you see the end of him and all his 
 This will be comfort to your heart : Virginius, 
 
 be content. 
 Virginius. Of truth, even so, for comfort 
 
 else I know right well is none, 
 Wherefore I do consent with you : come on, 
 
 let us be gone. [the gift. 
 
 But messenger myself will be, myself will give 
 Come on, good Comfort, wend we then ; there 
 
 is no other shift. [Exeunt. 
 
 Here entereth Judge Appius. 
 [Appius.] Well, hap as hap can, hap or no, 
 In hazard it is, but let that go. 
 I will, whatso happen, pursue on still : 
 Why, none there is living can let me my will, 
 I will have Virginia; I will her deflow'r, 
 Else rigorous sword her heart shall devour. 
 Here entereth Haphazard. 
 [Haphazard.] I came from Caleco even the 
 
 same hour. 
 And hap was hired to hackney in hempstrid : 
 In hazard he was of riding on beamstrid. 
 Then, crow crop on tree-top, hoist up the sail, 
 Then groaned their necks by the weight of their 
 
 tail : 
 Then did carnifex put these three together. 
 Paid them their passport for clust'ring thither. 
 Appius. Why, how now, Haphazard, of 
 
 what dost thou speak?
 
 Appius and Virg^ia 39 
 
 Methinks in mad sort thy talk thou dost break. 
 Those three words, chopt all in one, 
 Is carnifex : that signifieth hangman. 
 Peace ! no such words before me do utter. 
 Haphazard. Nay, I lie as still as a cat in a 
 
 gutter. 
 Go to, Judge Appius ; go forward, good prince : 
 Perhaps ye may have that the which will not 
 
 blince. 
 Appius. What is the man that liveth now 
 
 so near to door of death, [my breath? 
 
 As I for lust of lady fair, whose lack will stop 
 But long I shall not want her sight, I stay her 
 
 coming here. [doth appear. 
 
 O lucky light ! lo, present here her father 
 O, how I joy ! yet brag thou not; dame beauty 
 
 bides behind. 
 Virginius, where is the maid? how haps thou 
 
 break my mind? 
 
 Here entereth Virginius [hearing 
 Virginia's head]. 
 [Virginius.] Ah wicked judge! the virgin 
 
 chaste 
 Hath sent her beauteous face, 
 In recompense of lecher gain. 
 To thee, so void of grace. 
 She bids thee imbrue thy bloody hands 
 And filthy lecherous mind 
 With Venus' damsels, void of shame. 
 Where such thou haps to find. 
 But thou as with Diana's imps 
 Shalt never be acquainted : 
 They rather wish the naked knife 
 Than virgin's life attainted. 
 In end just proof whereof 
 Behold Virginia's head :
 
 40 Appius and Virginia 
 
 She sought her fame, thou sought her shame : 
 This arm hath smit her dead. 
 
 Appius. O curst and cruel cankered churl 1 
 
 O carl unnatural ! 
 Which hast the seed of thine own limb thrust 
 
 forth to funeral ! 
 Ye gods, bend down your ire, do plague him 
 
 for his deed ; 
 You sprites below, you hellish hounds, do give 
 
 him gall for mead. [the death. 
 
 Myself will see his latter end ; I judge him to 
 Like death that fair Virginia took, the like 
 
 shall stop his breath ; [so turmoil, 
 
 The flashy fiends of Limbo lake his ghost do 
 That he have need of Charon's help for all his 
 
 filthy toil. 
 Come, Justice, then ; come on, Reward ; come, 
 
 aid me in my need ! 
 Thou, wicked knight, shall slaughter[ed] be 
 
 with self-same knife with speed. 
 Virginius. Sith she a virgin pure and chaste 
 
 in heaven leads her life, [her knife. 
 
 Content I am to die with her, and die upon 
 
 Appius. Come, Justice, then : come on, 
 
 Reward, when Judgment now doth call ! 
 Here entereth Justice and Reward, and 
 they both speak this. 
 [Justice and Reward.] We both are ready 
 
 here at hand to work thy fatal fall. 
 Justice [speaketh]. O gorgon judge, what 
 
 lawless life hast thou most wicked led ! 
 Thy soaking sin hath sunk thy soul, thy virtues 
 
 all are fled. [have spotted. 
 
 Thou chaste and undefiled life did seek for to 
 And thy Reward is ready here, by Justice now 
 
 allotted.
 
 Appius and Virginia 41 
 
 Reward. Th}' just reward is deadly death ; 
 
 wherefore come, wend away : 
 To death I straight will do thy corpse; then 
 
 lust shall have his prey. 
 Virginius, thou woful knight, come near and 
 
 take thy foe ; 
 In prison [do] thou make him fast : no more 
 
 let him do so. 
 Let Claudius for tyranny be hanged on a tree. 
 Virginius. Ah, right Reward : the gods be 
 
 bless 'd, this day I chance to see ! 
 
 [Enter Haphazard. 
 Haphazard. Why, how now, my lord Ap- 
 pius, what cheer? 
 Why, where is my reward for this gear? 
 Why did I ride, run, and revel. 
 And for all my jaunting now made a javel? 
 Why — run, sir knave, call me Claudius ! 
 Then — run with a vengeance, watch Virginius I 
 Then — ride, sirrah; is Virginia at church? 
 Then — gallop to see where her father doth 
 
 lurch ! 
 Then — up, sirrah; now what counsel? 
 Of dame beauty what news canst thou tell? 
 Thus in hurly burly, from pillar to post, 
 Poor Haphazard daily was toss'd; 
 And now with Virginius he goes sadly walkings 
 And nothing at all will listen my talking : 
 But shall I be so used at his hands? 
 As lief I were near in Limbo bands. 
 That dronel, that drousy drake-nosed drivel, 
 He never learned his manners in Seville. 
 A judge may cause a gentleman — a gentleman? 
 
 nay, a jack-herring. 
 As honest as he that carries his hose on his 
 
 neck for fear of wearing.
 
 42 Appius and Virginia 
 
 A caitiff, a cut-throat, a churl worthy blame — 
 I will serve him no longer, the devil give him 
 
 shame ! 
 Yet, by the mouse-foot, I am not content, 
 I will have a reward, sure, else will I repent. 
 To Master Reward I straightways will go : 
 The worst that can hap is but a no. 
 But sure I know his honesty is such 
 That he will recompense me with little or 
 
 much : 
 And well this proverb cometh in my head — 
 By 'r lady ! half a loaf is better than ne'er a 
 
 whit of bread. 
 Therefore hap and be haply, hap that hap may, 
 I will put it in hazard, I['ll] give it assay. 
 All hail, Master Reward and righteous Justice ! 
 I beseech you let me be recompensed too, ac- 
 cording to my service; 
 For why? all this long time I have lived in 
 
 hope. [a rope. 
 
 Reward. Then for thy reward, then, here is 
 Haphazard. Nay, soft, my masters : by 
 
 Saint Thomas of Trunions, 
 I am not disposed to buy of your onions. 
 A rope, (quoth you?) away with that showing ! 
 It would grieve a man having two ploughs 
 
 going. 
 Nay, stay, I pray you, and let the cat wink : 
 It is naught in dry summer for letting my 
 
 drink. 
 Justice. Let or let not, there is no remedy : 
 
 hanging shall be thy reward, verily ! 
 Haphazard. Is there nothing but hanging 
 
 to my lot doth fall? [you withal. 
 
 Then take you my reward ; much good do it 
 I am not so hasty, although I be claiming.
 
 Appius and Virginia 43 
 
 But that I can afford you the most of my gain- 
 ing, 
 I will set, let, grant, yield, permit and promise 
 All the revenues to you of my service. 
 I am friendly, I am kindly, I proffer you fair : 
 You shall be my full executor and heir. 
 
 Reward. Nay, make you ready first to die, 
 by the rood ! 
 Then we will dispose it as we think good : 
 Then those that with you to this did consent, 
 The like reward shall cause them repent. 
 
 Justice. Nay, stay a while, Virginius is 
 coming. 
 Nay, soft, Haphazard, you are not so cunning, 
 Thus to escape without punishment. 
 
 [Haphazard] press[es] to go forth, [hut 
 is forced to stay.] 
 Reward. No, certes ! it is not so expedient. 
 
 Here entereth Virginius. 
 
 [Virginius.] O noble Justice ! duty done, 
 
 behold I come again, [slain. 
 
 To show you that Appius he himself hath lewdly 
 
 As soon as he in prison was enclosed out of 
 
 sight, [outright : 
 
 He desperate for bloody deed did slay himself 
 
 And Claudius doth mercy crave, who did the 
 
 deed for fear. 
 Vouchsafe, O judge ! to save his life, though 
 country he forbear. 
 Justice. We grant him grace at thy request, 
 but banish him the land. 
 And see that death be done outright on him 
 that here doth stand. 
 Haphazard. Nay, Master Virginius, [take 
 him by the hand] I crave not for service 
 the thing worth ought :
 
 44 Appius and Virginia 
 
 Hanging, quoth you? it is the last end of my 
 
 thought. 
 Fie for shame, fie ! stay, by my father's soul ! 
 Why, this is like to Tom Turner's dole : 
 Hang one man and save all the rest ! 
 Take part one with another : plain dealing is 
 best. 
 Reward. This is our dealing ; thus deal we 
 with thee. [tree ! 
 
 Take him hence, Virginius ; go, truss him to a 
 Haphazard. Ye shall? in a rope's name! 
 
 whither away with me? 
 Virginius. Come, wend thou In haste thy 
 death for to take ; 
 To the hangman I will lead thee, a quick 
 despatch to make. 
 Haphazard. Must I needs hang? by the 
 gods ! it doth spite me [me. 
 
 To think how crabbedly this silk lace will bite 
 Then come, cousin Cutpurse, come, run, haste 
 
 and follow me : 
 Haphazard must hang ; come, follow the livery ! 
 
 [Exit. 
 Justice. Well, wend we now : the final end 
 
 of fleshly lust we see. 
 Reward. Content : Reward is ready bent 
 with Justice to agree. 
 
 Here entereth Fame. [Doctrina and 
 Memory bring a tomh.] Also Vir- 
 ginius. 
 O stay, you noble Justice, stay ! Reward, do 
 
 make no haste. 
 We ladies three have brought the corse, in 
 earth that must be placed. 
 
 [In original the stage direction in 
 brackets above occurs here, but evi-
 
 Appius and Virginia 45 
 
 dently all four enter together: see 
 Note-Book.] 
 We have brought back Virginius the funeral to 
 see. [aid of me, 
 
 I grant him that the learned pen shall have the 
 To write in learned verse the honour of her 
 name. 
 Fame. And eke it shall resound by trump 
 of me Dame Fame. 
 
 Here let Memory write on the tomb. 
 I Memory will mind her life : her death shall 
 
 ever reign 
 Within the mouth and mind of man, from age 
 to age again. 
 Justice. And Justice, sure, will aid all those 
 
 that imitate her life. 
 Reward. And I Reward will punish those 
 
 that move such dames to strife. 
 Fame. Then sing we round about the tomb, 
 
 in honour of her name. 
 Reward. Content we are with willing mind 
 to sing with sound of fame. 
 
 THE EPILOGUE. 
 
 As earthly life is granted none for evermore to 
 
 reign. 
 But denting death will cause them all to grant 
 
 this world as vain ; 
 Right worshipful, sith sure it is that mortal 
 
 life must vade, 
 Do practise then to win his love, that all in 
 
 all hath made. [you take 
 
 And by this poet's feigning here example do
 
 46 Appius and Virginia 
 
 Of Virginia's life of chastity, of duty to thy 
 make ; 
 
 Of love to wife, of love to spouse, of love to 
 husband dear, 
 
 Of bringing up of tender youth : all these are 
 noted here. [conceive 
 
 I doubt it not, right worshipful, but well you do 
 
 The matter that is ended now, and thus I take 
 my leave : [to save. 
 
 Beseeching God, as duty is, our gracious Queen 
 
 The nobles and the commons eke, with pro- 
 sperous life, I crave ! 
 
 FINIS.
 
 ll\c(Juci(l lacstmtlc vj the lilic-pa^c of " The Marriage 
 of Wit and Science," from the unique copy now in 
 the Bodleian.]
 
 A New and Pleasant Interlude 
 
 ENTITLED THE 
 
 MARRIAGE OF WIT AND 
 SCIENCE 
 
 [2rf)E ^lagers' Natneg 
 
 Nature 
 
 Wit 
 
 Will 
 
 Reason 
 
 Experience 
 
 Science 
 
 Instruction 
 
 Study 
 
 Diligence 
 
 Tediousness 
 
 Recreation 
 
 Idleness 
 
 Ignorance 
 
 Shame] 
 
 Imprinted at London in Fleet-street, near unto St. 
 
 Dunstan's Church, by Thomas Marsh. 
 
 [1570]
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF WIT 
 AND SCIENCE 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Nature, Wit, and Will. 
 
 Grand lady, mother of every mortal thing : 
 Nurse of the world, conservative of kind : 
 Cause of increase, of life and soul the spring, 
 At whose instinct the noble heaven doth wind, 
 To whose award all creatures are assigned : 
 I come in place to treat with this my son, 
 For his avail how he the path may find 
 Whereby his race in honour he may run. 
 Come, tender child, unripe and green for age, 
 In whom the parent sets her chief delight. 
 Wit is thy name, but far from wisdom sage 
 Till tract of time shall work and frame aright 
 This peerless brain, not yet in perfect plight. 
 But when it shall be wrought, methinks I see, 
 As in a glass beforehand with my sight, 
 A certain perfect piece of work in thee. 
 And now so far as I [can] guess by signs, 
 Some great attempt is fixed in thy breast : 
 Speak on, my son, whereto thy heart inclines, 
 And let me deal to set thy heart at rest. 
 He salves the sore that knows the patient 
 best : 
 A. p. IV. E
 
 50 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act I. 
 
 As I do thee, my son, my chiefest care, 
 
 In whom my special praise and joy doth rest; 
 
 To me therefore these thoughts of thine 
 
 declare. 
 Wit. Nature, my sovereign queen and 
 
 parent passing dear, 
 Whose force I am enforced to know and know- 
 ledge everywhere, 
 This care of mine, though it be bred within my 
 
 breast, [unrest. 
 
 Yet it is not so ripe as yet to breed me great 
 So run I to and fro with hap such as I find — 
 Now fast, now loose : now hot, now cold : in- 
 constant as that wind. 
 I feel myself in love, yet not inflamed so. 
 But causes move me now and then to let such 
 
 fancies go, 
 Which causes prevailing sets each thing else 
 
 in doubt 
 Much like the nail, that last came in, and drives 
 
 the former out. [your grace 
 
 Wherefore my suit is this : that it would please 
 To settle this unsettled head in some assured 
 
 place : [the way, 
 
 To lead me through the thick, to guide me all 
 To point me where I may achieve my most 
 
 desired prey ; 
 For now again of late I kindle in desire, 
 And pleasure pricketh forth my youth to feel a 
 
 greater fire. [in bed. 
 
 What though I be too young to show her sport 
 Yet are there many in this land that at my 
 
 years do wed. 
 And though I wed not yet, yet am I old enow 
 To serve my lady to my power, and to begin 
 
 to woo.
 
 The Marriag^e of Wit and Science, Act I, 51 
 
 Nature. What is that lady, son, which thus 
 
 thy heart doth move? 
 Wit. A lady, whom it might beseem high 
 
 Jove himself to love. 
 Nature. Who taught thee her to love, or 
 
 hast thou seen her face? 
 Wit. Nor this nor that, but I heard men 
 
 talk of her apace. 
 Nature. What is her name? 
 Wit. Reason is her sire, Experience her 
 dame, 
 The lady now is in her flower, and Science is 
 her name. [possest ; 
 
 Lo, where she dwells ; lo, where my heart is all 
 Lo, where my body would abide ; lo, where my 
 soul doth rest. [tofore. 
 
 Her have I borne good-will these many years 
 But now she lodgeth in my thought a hundred 
 
 parts the more. 
 And since I do persuade myself that this is she 
 Which ought above all earthly wights to be 
 
 most dear to me. 
 And since I wot not how to compass my desire. 
 And since for shame I cannot now nor mind not 
 to retire, [about 
 
 Help on, I you beseech, and bring this thing 
 Without your hurt to my great ease, and set 
 all out of doubt. 
 Nature. Thou askest more than is in me to 
 give, [bear. 
 
 More than thy cause, more than thy state will 
 They are two things to able thee to live, 
 And to live so that none should be thy peer. 
 The first from me proceedcth everywhere; 
 But this by toil and practice of the mind, 
 Is set full far, God wot, and bought full dear 
 
 E 2
 
 52 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act I. 
 
 By those that seek the fruit thereof to find. 
 To match thee then with Science in degree, 
 To knit that knot that few may reach unto, 
 I tell thee plain, it lieth not in me. 
 Why should I challenge that I cannot do? 
 But thou must take another way to woo, 
 And beat thy brain, and bend thy curious head, 
 Both ride and run, and travel to and fro. 
 If thou intend that famous dame to wed. 
 
 Wit. You name yourself the lady of this 
 Nature. It is true. [world. 
 
 IVit. And can there be within this world a 
 
 thing- too hard for you? 
 Nature. My power it is not absolute in 
 
 jurisdiction, 
 For I cognise another lord above. 
 That hath received unto his disposition 
 The soul of man, which he of special love 
 To gifts of grace and learning eke doth move. 
 A work so far beyond my reach and call. 
 That into part of praise with him myself to 
 
 show 
 Might soon procure my well-deserved fall : 
 He makes the frame, and [I] receive it so, 
 No jot therein altered for my head ; 
 And as I it receive, I let it go, 
 Causing therein such sparkles to be bred, 
 As he commits to me by vi^hom I must be led : 
 Who guides me first, and in me guides the rest. 
 All which in their due course and kind are 
 
 spread. 
 Of gifts from me such as may serve them best. 
 To thee, son Wit, he will'd me to inspire 
 The love of knowledge and certain seeds divine, 
 Which ground might be a mean to bring thee 
 
 higher.
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act I. 53 
 
 If thereunto thyself thou wilt incline. 
 
 The massy gold the cunning hand makes fine ; 
 
 Good grounds are till'd as well as are the 
 
 w'orst ; 
 The rankest flower will ask a springing time ; 
 So is man's wit unperfect at the first. 
 
 Wit. If cunning be the key and well of 
 
 worldly bliss 
 My-thinketh God might at the first as well 
 
 endue all with this. 
 Nature. As cunning is the key of bliss, so 
 
 it is worthy praise : 
 The worthiest things are won with pain in tract 
 
 of time always. 
 Wit. And yet right worthy things there are, 
 
 you will confess, I trow. 
 Which notwithstanding at our birth God doth 
 
 on us bestow. 
 Nature. There are; but such as unto you, 
 
 that have the great to name, 
 I rather that bestow than win thereby im- 
 mortal fame. [detriment ensued. 
 Wit. Fain would I learn what harm or 
 If any man were at his birth with these good 
 
 gifts endued. 
 Nature. There should be nothing left 
 
 wherein men might excel. 
 No blame for sin, no praise to them that had 
 
 designed well : [would abound ; 
 
 Virtue should lose her price, and learning 
 And as man would admire the thing that 
 
 eachwhere might be found, 
 The great estate that have of me and fortune 
 
 what they will. 
 Should have no need to look to those whose 
 
 heads are fraught with skill.
 
 54 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act I. 
 
 The meaner sort, that now excels in virtues of 
 
 the mind, 
 Should not be once accepted there, where now 
 
 they succour find. 
 For great men should be sped of all, and would 
 
 have need of none ; 
 And he that were not born to land should lack 
 
 to live upon. 
 These and five thousand causes more which I 
 
 forbear to tell, [to dwell 
 
 The noble virtue of the mind have caused there 
 Where none may have access, but such as can 
 
 get in 
 Through many double doors : through heat, 
 
 through cold, through thick and thin. 
 Wit. Suppose I would address myself to 
 
 seek her out, 
 And to refuse no pain that lieth thereabout, 
 Should I be sure to speed? 
 
 Nature. Trust me, and have no doubt ; 
 Thou canst not choose but speed with travel 
 
 and with time : [to climb. 
 
 These two are they that must direct thee how 
 
 Wit. With travel and with time? must 
 
 they needs join in one? 
 Nature. Nor that nor this can do thee good 
 
 if they be took alone. 
 Wit. Time worketh all with ease, and gives 
 
 the greatest dint : [flint. 
 
 In time soft water drops can hollow hardest 
 Again with labour by itself great matters com- 
 pass 'd be, [see. 
 Even at a gird, in very little time or none we 
 Wherefore in my conceit good reason it is, 
 Either this without that to look, or that with- 
 out this.
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act I. 55 
 
 Nature. Set case thou didst attempt to 
 climb Parnassus hill : 
 Take time five hundred thousand years and 
 
 longer, if thou will, 
 Trowest thou to touch the top thereof by stand- 
 ing still? 
 Again work out thy heart, and spend thyself 
 with toil : [the foil. 
 
 Take time with all, or else I dare assure thee of 
 Wit. Madam, I trust I have your licence 
 and your leave, 
 With your good-will and so much help as you 
 to me can give ; [time, 
 
 With further aid also when you shall spy your 
 To make a proof to give attempt this famous 
 hill to climb; [prayer; 
 
 And now I here request your blessing and your 
 For sure, before I sleep I will to yonder fort 
 repair. 
 Nature. I bless thee here with all such gifts 
 as nature can bestow, [hundred mo. 
 
 And for thy sake I would they were as many 
 Take therewithal this child, to wait upon thee 
 still: _ [Will. 
 
 A bird of mine, some kin to thee : his name is 
 Wit. Welcome to me, my Will ! what ser- 
 vice canst thou do? 
 Will. All things forsooth, sir, when me list, 
 
 and more too. 
 Wit. But when wilt thou list? when I 
 
 shall list, I trow? 
 Will. Trust not to that ; peradventure yea, 
 
 peradventure no. 
 Wit. When 1 have need of thee, thou wilt 
 
 not serve me so? 
 Will. If ye bid me run, perhaps I will go.
 
 56 The Marriag-e of Wit and Science, Act I. 
 
 Wit. Cock's soul, this is a boy for the 
 
 nonce among-st twenty mo ! [blow. 
 
 Will. I am plain, I tell you, at a word and a 
 
 Wit. Then must I prick you, child, if you 
 
 be drowned in sloth. [you both ; 
 
 Nature. Agree, you twain, for I must leave 
 
 Farewell, my son, farewell ! mine own good 
 
 Will ! 
 Be ruled by Wit, and be obedient still ; 
 Force thee I cannot, but as far as lies in me 
 I will help thy master to make a good servant 
 
 of thee. 
 
 Farewell ! [Exit. 
 
 Wit. Adieu, lady mother ! with thanks for 
 
 all your pain ; [again : 
 
 And now let me bethink myself again and eke 
 
 To match with Science is the thing that I have 
 
 took in hand ; [understand. 
 
 A matter of more weight, I see, than I did 
 
 Will must be won to this, or else it will be 
 
 hard; 
 
 Will must go break the matter first, or else 
 
 my gain is marr'd, [me 
 
 Sir boy ! are you content to take such part for 
 
 As God shall send, and help it forth as much 
 
 as lies in thee? 
 
 Will. Yea, master, by His wounds ! or else 
 
 cut off [t]his head. 
 Wit. Come then, and let us two devise what 
 trace were best to tread ; 
 Nature is on my side, and Will my boy is fast. 
 There is no doubt I shall obtain my joys at last. 
 
 Ex[e]unt.
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act II., Sc. i 57 
 
 ACT II. S[C^]NA I. 
 
 Wit and Will. 
 
 Wit. What, Will, I say. Will boy, come 
 
 again, foolish elf ! [man yourself. 
 
 Will. I cry you mercy, sir, you are a tall 
 
 Wit. Such a cockbrain as thou art, I never 
 
 saw the like to it. 
 Will. Truth, in respect of you, that are 
 
 nothing- else but Wit ! 
 Wit. Canst thou tell me thy errand, because 
 
 thou art gone so soon? 
 Will. Can I remember a long tale of a man 
 in the moon, 
 With such a circumstance and «uch flim-flam? 
 I will tell, at a word, whose servant I am : 
 Wherefore I come, and what I have to say. 
 And call for her answer, before I come away. 
 What, should I make a broad tree of every 
 little shrub, [tub? 
 
 And keep her a great while with a tale of a 
 Wit. Yet thou must commend me to be rich, 
 
 lusty, pleasant, and wise. 
 Will. I cannot commend you but I must 
 make twenty lies. 
 Rich, quoth you? that appeareth by the port 
 
 that you keep : 
 Even as rich as a new-shorn sheep ! 
 Of pleasant conceits, ten bushels to the peck; 
 Lusty like a herring, with a bell about his neck ; 
 Wise as a woodcock ; as brag as a bodylouse ; 
 A man of your hands, to match with a mouse ! 
 How say you, are not these proper qualities to 
 praise you with?
 
 58 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act II., Sc. i 
 
 Wit. Leave these mad toys of thine, and 
 come to the pith : 
 One part of the errand should have been 
 To give her this picture of mine to be seen, 
 And to request her the same to accept, 
 Safely until my coming to be kept, 
 Which I suspend till thy return, and then, 
 If it like her ladyship to appoint me where and 
 
 when , 
 I will wait upon her gladly out of hand. 
 
 Will. Sir, let me alone : your mind I under- 
 stand ; 
 I will handle the matter so that you shall owe 
 
 me thanks. 
 But what if she find fault with these spindle- 
 shanks, 
 Or else with these black spots on your nose? 
 Wit. In faith, sir boy, this talk deserveth 
 blows. [I suppose? 
 
 Will. You will not misuse your best servant. 
 For, by His nails and by His fingers too ! 
 I will mar your marriage, if you do clitter. 
 
 Wit. I pray thee go thy ways, and leave 
 
 this clatter. 
 Will. First shall I be so bold to break to 
 
 you a matter. 
 
 Wit. Tush ! thou art disposed to spend 
 
 words in waste, [haste. 
 
 And yet thou knowest this business asketh 
 
 Will. But even two words, and then I am 
 
 gone. 
 Wit. If it be worth the hearing, say on ! 
 Will. I would not have you think that I, for 
 my part, [depart, 
 
 From my promise or from your service will 
 But yet now and then it goeth to my heart
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act II., Sc. i 59 
 
 When I think how this marriage may be to 
 
 my smart. 
 Wit. Why so? 
 Will. I would tell you the cause, if I durst 
 
 for shame. [any blame. 
 
 Wit. Speak hardily what thou wilt without 
 
 Will. I am not disposed as yet to be tame, 
 
 And therefore I am loth to be under a dame. 
 
 Now you are a bachelor, a man may soon win 
 
 you ; [you ; 
 
 Methinks there is some good fellowship in 
 We may laugh and be merry at board and at 
 
 bed. 
 You are not so testy as those that be wed. 
 Mild in behaviour and loth to fall out, [about, 
 You may run, you may ride and rove round 
 With wealth at your will and all thing at ease, 
 Free, frank and lusty : easy to please. 
 But when you be clogged and tied by the toe 
 So fast that you shall not have power to let go, 
 You will tell me another lesson soon after. 
 And cry peccavi too, except your luck be the 
 
 better. [call ! 
 
 Then farewell good fellowship ! then, Come at a 
 Then, Wait at an inch, you idle knaves all ! 
 Then sparing and pinching, and nothing of 
 
 gift; 
 No talk with our master, but all for his thrift ! 
 Solemn and sour, and angry as a wasp, 
 All things must be kept under lock and hasp; 
 At that which will make me to fare full ill ; 
 All your care shall be to hamper poor Will. 
 Wit. I warrant thee, for that take thou no 
 
 thought ; [nought. 
 
 Thou shalt be made of, whosoever be set at 
 As dear to me as mine own dear brother;
 
 6o The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act II., Sc. i 
 
 Whosoever be one, thou shalt be another. 
 Will. Yea, but your wife will play the 
 
 shrew ; perdy ! it is she that I fear. 
 
 Wit. Thy message will cause her some 
 
 favour to bear [likewise, 
 
 For my sake and thy sake, and for her own 
 
 If thou use thyself discreetly in this enterprise. 
 
 Will. She hath a father, a testy, sour old 
 
 man : [then. 
 
 I doubt lest he and I shall fall out now and 
 
 Wit. Give him fair words, forbear him for 
 
 his age ; [sage. 
 
 Thou must consider him to be ancient and 
 
 Shew thyself officious and serviceable still, 
 
 And then shall Reason make very much of 
 
 Will. [how then? 
 
 Will. If your wife be ever complaining, 
 
 Wit. My wife will have nothing to do with 
 
 my men. 
 Will. If she do, believe her not in any wise. 
 And when you once perceive her stomach to 
 arise, [see 
 
 Then cut her short at the first, and you shall 
 A marvellous virtue in that medicine to be. 
 Give her not the bridle for a year or twain. 
 And you shall see her bridle it without a rein. 
 Break her betimes, and bring her under by 
 
 force. 
 
 Or else the grey mare will be the better horse. 
 
 Wit. If thou have done, begone ! and spend 
 
 no time in vain. [again? 
 
 Will. Where shall I find you when I come 
 
 Wit. At home. 
 
 Will. Good, enough ; take your ease ! let me 
 alone with this. [Exit Wit. 
 
 Surely a treasure of all treasures it is
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act II., Sc. 2 61 
 
 To serve such a master as I hope him to be, 
 And to have such a servant as he hath of me; 
 For I am quick, nimble, proper and nice; 
 He is full good, gentle, sober and wise. 
 He is full loth to chide or to check, 
 And I am as willing to serve at a beck ; 
 He orders me well, and speaks me so fair, 
 That for his sake no travail I must spare. 
 But now am I come to the gate of this lady, 
 I will pause a while to frame mine errand finely ; 
 And lo, where she cometh ; yet will I not come 
 
 nigh her; 
 But among these fellows will I stand to eye her. 
 
 ACT H., SC^NA 2. 
 Reason, Experience, Science, and Will. 
 
 Science. My parents, ye know how many 
 
 fall in lapse [haps. 
 
 That do ascribe to me the cause of their mis- 
 How many seek, that come too short of their 
 
 desire : 
 How many do attempt, that daily do retire. 
 How many rove about the mark on every side : 
 How many think to hit, when they are much 
 
 too wide : [low : 
 
 How many run too far, how many light too 
 How few to good effect their travail do bestow ! 
 And how all these impute their losses unto me — 
 Should I have joy to think of marriage now, 
 
 trow ye? 
 What doth the world ? my love alone, say they, 
 Is bought so dear that life and goods for it 
 
 must pay.
 
 63 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act II., Sc. 2 
 
 Strongs youth must spend itself; and yet, when 
 
 all is done, [won. 
 
 We hear of few or none that have this lady 
 On me they make outcries, and charge me with 
 
 the blood [good. 
 
 Of those that for my sake adventure life and 
 This grief doth wound my heart so, that suitors 
 
 more as yet 
 I see no cause nor reason why I should admit. 
 Reason. Ah, daughter, say not so ! there is 
 
 great cause and skill [thus alone. 
 
 For which you should mislike to live unmarried 
 What comfort can you have remaining thus 
 
 unknown? [be, 
 
 How shall the commonwealth by you advanced 
 If you abide inclosed here, where no man may 
 
 you see? [pain 
 
 It is not for your state, yourself to take the 
 All strangers that resort to you to entertain : 
 To suffer free access of all that come and go : 
 To be at each man's call : to travel to and fro. 
 What then, since God hath plac'd such treasure 
 
 in your breast, [be refresh'd, 
 
 Wherewith so many thousand think by you to 
 Needs must you have some one of hid and 
 
 secret trust, [discuss 'd. 
 
 By whom these things may be well-order 'd and 
 To him you must disclose the depth of all your 
 
 thought ; [wrought ; 
 
 By him, as time shall serve, all matters must be 
 To him above you must content yourself to be 
 
 at call ; 
 Ye must be his, he must be yours, he must be 
 
 all in all. 
 Experience. My lord your father tells you 
 
 truth, perdy !
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act II., Sc. 2 6j 
 
 And that in time yourself shall find and try. 
 Science. I could allege more than as yet I 
 
 have said, 
 But I must yield, and you must be obeyed. 
 Fall out as it will : there is no help, I see ; 
 Some one or other in time must marry me. 
 Will. In time? nay, out of hand, madam, 
 
 if it please you ; 
 In faith, I know a younker that will ease you, 
 A lively young gentleman, as fresh as any 
 
 flower, [hour. 
 
 That will not stick to marry you within this 
 
 Science. Such haste might haply turn to 
 
 waste to some ; [thou come ? 
 
 But I pray thee, my pretty boy, whence art 
 
 Will, ff it please your good ladyship to 
 
 accept me so, 
 I have a solemn message to tell, ere I go; 
 Not anything in secret your honour to stain, 
 But in the presence and hearing of you twain. 
 Reason. Speak ! [Nature hight, 
 
 Will. The lady of this world, which lady 
 Hath one, a peerless son, in whom she taketh 
 
 delight ; 
 On him she chargeth me to be attendant still. 
 Both kin to her : his name is Wit, my name is- 
 
 Will. [flame, 
 
 The noble child doth feel the force of Cupid's 
 And sendeth now for ease, by counsel of his 
 
 dame. [was young : 
 
 His mother taught him first to love while he 
 Which love with age increaseth sore, and 
 
 waxeth wondrous strong ; [more, 
 
 For very fame displays your bounty more and 
 And at this pinch he burncth so as never here- 
 tofore.
 
 64 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act II., Sc. 2 
 
 Not fantasies force, not vain and idle toys of 
 
 love, 
 Not hope of that which commonly doth other 
 
 suitors move, 
 But fixed fast good-will that never shall relent ; 
 And virtue's force, that shines in you, bad him 
 give this attempt. [your good ; 
 
 He hath no need of wealth, he woos not for 
 His kindred is such he need not to seek to 
 match with noble blood ; [may command, 
 Such store of friends that, where he list, he 
 And none so hardy to presume his pleasure to 
 
 withstand. 
 Yourself it is, your virtue and your grace. 
 Your noble gifts, your endless praise in every 
 
 place : 
 You alone, I say, the mark that he would hit, 
 The hoped joy, the dearest prey, that can befal 
 to Wit. 
 Experience. I have not heard a message 
 
 more trimly done. 
 Science. Nor I ; what age art thou of, my 
 
 good son? 
 Will. Between eleven and twelve, madam, 
 
 more or less. 
 Reason. He hath been instructed this errand, 
 
 as I guess. 
 Science. How old is the gentleman thy 
 
 master, canst thou tell? 
 Will. Seventeen or thereabout, I wot not 
 
 very well. 
 Science. What stature, of what making, 
 
 what kind of port bears he? 
 Will. Such as your ladyship cannot mislike, 
 trust me ! [tall : 
 
 Well-grown, well-made, a stripling clean and
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act II., Sc. 2 65 
 
 Well-favoured, somewhat black, and manly 
 
 therewithal ; [better, 
 
 And that you may conceive his personage the 
 Lo, here of him the very shape and lively 
 
 picture ! 
 This hath he sent to you to view and to behold : 
 I dare avouch no joint therein, no jot, to be 
 
 controll'd. 
 Science. In good faith, I thank thy master 
 
 with my heart ; [part. 
 
 I perceive that Nature in him hath done her 
 
 Will. Farther, if it please your honour to 
 
 know : 
 My master would be glad to run, ride, or go 
 A<- your commandment to any place far or near, 
 To have but a sight of your ladyship there. 
 I beseech you appoint him the place and the 
 
 hour ; 
 You shall see how readily to you he will scour. 
 Reason. Do so ! 
 Experience. Yea, in any wise, daughter; 
 
 for, hear you me, 
 He seemeth a right worthy and trim young 
 
 man to be. 
 Science. Commend me then to Wit, and let 
 
 him understand [his hand ; 
 
 That I accept with all my heart this present at 
 And that I would be glad, when he doth see 
 
 his time. 
 To hear and see him face to face within this 
 
 house of mine. [his fill ; 
 
 Then may he break his mind, and talk with me 
 Till then, adieu, both he and thou, mine own 
 
 sweet little Will ! 
 
 Exe[u]nt Science, Reason, Experience. 
 
 K.V. IV. F
 
 66 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act III., Sc. i 
 
 ACT II., SC/ENA 3. 
 [Will.] 
 
 [PFtH.] Ah flattering quean ! how neatly she 
 
 can talk, [walk ! 
 
 How minionly she trips, how sadly she can 
 Well, wanton ! yet beware that ye be sound and 
 
 sure, 
 Fair words are wont ofttimes fair women to 
 
 allure. 
 Now must I get me home, and make report of 
 
 this 
 To him, that thinks it long till my return, I wis. 
 
 [Exit.] 
 
 ACT III., SC^NA I. 
 Wit and Will. 
 
 Wit. Sayst thou me so, boy? will she 
 
 have me indeed? [to speed. 
 
 Will. Be of good cheer, sir ! I warrant you 
 Wit. Did both her parents speak well to 
 
 her of me? [shall see. 
 
 Will. As heart can think; go on, and you 
 Wit. How took she the picture? how 
 
 liketh she my person? [ing thereon. 
 
 Will. She never had done toting and look- 
 Wit. And must I come to talk with her my 
 
 fill? 
 Will. Whensoever you please, and as oft 
 
 as you will. [pense 
 
 Wit. O my sweet boy ! how shall I recom-
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act III., Sc. 2 67 
 
 Thy faithful heart and painful diligence? [joy ! 
 
 My hope, my stay, my wealth, the key of all my 
 
 Will. I pray you, sir, call me your man, 
 
 and not your boy. [all. 
 
 Wit. Thou shalt be what thou wilt, all in 
 
 Will. Promise me faithfully that, if your 
 
 wife brawl. 
 
 Or set her father to check me out of measure, 
 
 You will not see me abused to their pleasure. 
 
 Wit. Give me thy hand, take here my faith 
 
 and troth, [goeth. 
 
 I will maintain thee, howsoever the v.orld 
 
 ACT III., SC^NA 2. 
 
 [The House of Science. Will. Wit. Also 
 Reason and Science behind.] 
 
 Wit. What shall we do? Shall we stand 
 lingering here? [near. 
 
 Will. If you be a man, press in and go 
 Wit. What if there be some other suitor 
 there? [to fear; 
 
 Will. And if there be, yet need you not 
 Until I bring his head to you upon a spear 
 I will not look you in the face, nor in your 
 sight appear. 
 Reason. Nay, Wit, advise yourself, and 
 pause a while. 
 Or else this haste of yours will you beguile. 
 Science. No haste but good ; take time and 
 learn to fight ; 
 Learn to assault, learn to dcTend a right : 
 Your match is monstrous to behold and full of 
 might, 
 
 F 2
 
 68 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act III., Sc. 2 
 
 Whom you must vanquish, not by force, but by 
 
 sleight. 
 Wit. Madam, stand to your promise ! if I 
 
 win, I am sped, 
 Am I not? 
 Science. Yea, truly ! 
 Will. Good, enough ! if we fight not I would 
 
 we were dead ; 
 No man shall stay us that bears a head. 
 Experience. Young man ! a word or twain, 
 
 and then adieu : [new ; 
 
 Your years are few, your practice green and 
 Mark what I say, and ye shall find it true : 
 You are the first that shall this rashness rue. 
 Be ruled here : our counsel do thereafter. 
 Lay good ground, your work shall be the 
 
 faster. 
 This headlong haste may sooner miss than hit ; 
 Take heed both of Wit's will and wilful Wit. 
 We have within a gentleman, our retainer and 
 
 our friend, 
 With servants twain, that do on him attend — 
 Instruction, Study, Diligence : these three 
 At your commandment in this attempt shall be. 
 Hear them instead of us, and as they shall de- 
 vise, 
 So hardily cast our cards in this enterprise. 
 I will send them to you, and leave you for now. 
 Wit. The more company the merrier; boy, 
 
 what sayst thou ? [enow : 
 
 Will. It is a good fault to have more than 
 
 I care not, so as we may pull the knaves down ; 
 
 I would we were at it, I pass not how soon. 
 
 Wit. If it shall please you to send those 
 
 three hither 
 We will follow your counsel, and go together.
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act III., So. 2 69 
 
 Will. I warrant her a shrew, whosoever be 
 
 another — [mother. 
 
 God make the daughter good, I like not the 
 
 [Aside. 
 Wit. Yet would not I for no good to have 
 
 forgone her. [Aside. 
 
 Will. Marry, sir ! indeed she talks and takes 
 on her 
 Like a dame, nay, like a duchess or a queen, 
 With such a solemnity as I have not seen. 
 Reason. She is a queen, I tell thee, in her 
 
 degree. 
 Will. Let her be what she list, with a 
 vengeance, for me ! 
 I will keep me out of her reach, if I can. 
 
 [Aside. 
 
 Reason. If this marriage go forward, thou 
 
 must be her man. [then, 
 
 Will. Marriage or marriage not, beshrew me 
 
 I have but one master, and I will serve no mo, 
 
 And if he anger me, I will forsake him too. 
 
 Reason. She shall not hurt thee, unless her 
 
 cause be juster. 
 Will. By the faith of my body, sir, I intend 
 
 not to trust her. 
 Reason. Why? 
 
 Will. Take me this woman that talks so 
 roundly, 
 That be so wise, that reason so soundly : 
 That look so narrow, that speak so shrill : 
 Their words are not so cursed, but their deeds 
 are as ill. 
 Reason. It is but thy fancy, I see no such 
 
 thing in her. 
 Will. Perhaps you had never occasion to 
 try her?
 
 70 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act III,, Sc. 3 
 
 Reason. That were great marvel in so many 
 
 years. [it appears. 
 
 Will. She hath won the mastery of you, 
 
 IV it. Well, quiet yourself ! thou shalt take 
 
 no wrong- ; 
 
 Methink our three companions tarry very long. 
 
 ACT III., SC^NA 3. 
 
 Instruction. Study. Diligence. Reason. 
 Wit. Will. 
 
 Instruction. Sir, we are come to know your 
 
 pleasure. 
 Reason. You are come in good time, In- 
 struction, our treasure; [aid. 
 This gentleman craveth your acquaintance and 
 What you may do for him, let him not be 
 denay'd. [with me? 
 Wit. Welcome, good fellows ! will ye dwell 
 Diligence. If all parties be pleased, content 
 
 are we. 
 Wit. Welcome, Instruction, with all my 
 
 heart ! 
 Will. What, three new servants ! then, 
 
 farewell, my part ! [Aside. 
 
 Instruction. I heartily thank you, and look 
 what I can do ; 
 It shall be always ready to pleasure you. 
 Reason. Consider and talk together with 
 these, 
 And you shall find in your travail great ease. 
 Take here of me, before I take my leave. 
 This glass of crystal clear, which I you give ; 
 Accept it, and reserve it for my sake most sure,
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act IV., Sc. i 71 
 
 Much good to you in time it may procure. 
 Behold yourself therein, and view and pry ; 
 Mark what defects it will discover and descry ; 
 And so with judgment ripe and curious eye, 
 What is amiss endeavour to supply — 
 Farewell ! 
 
 Wit. Farewell to you, right honourable sir! 
 And commend me to my love, my heart's 
 
 desire ; 
 Let her think on me, when she sees me not 
 and wish me well. 
 Will. Farewell, master Reason, think upon 
 us, when you see us not; 
 And in any wise let not Will be forgot. 
 
 Wit. Since I must take advice and counsel 
 
 of you three, [me, 
 
 I must intreat you all to dwell in house with 
 
 And look what order you shall prescribe as 
 
 needful. 
 To keep the same you shall find me as heedful : 
 Come ! 
 
 Instruction. [I] come. 
 
 Will. [I] go. [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT IV., SC^NA I. 
 
 Wit. Will. Instruction. Study. 
 Diligence. 
 
 Will. Tush, tush, Instruction ! your talk is 
 of no force : 
 You tell us a tale of a roasted horse. 
 Which, by His wounds ! except we set to it, 
 As fast as we make, these fellows will undo it ;
 
 72 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act IV., Sc i 
 
 Their talk is nothing but soft and fair, and 
 
 tarry ; [marry. 
 
 If you follow their counsel, you shall never 
 
 Instruction. To follow our counsel your 
 
 charge and promise was. 
 Wit. I would I had never known you, by 
 the mass ! 
 Must I look so long, and spend my life with 
 
 toil? 
 Nay, sure, I will either win it, or take the foil. 
 Study. The surer is your ground, the better 
 
 you shall bear it. 
 WilL Ground us no ground ; let him win it, 
 
 and wear it. 
 
 Instruction. Good sir, be ruled, and leave 
 
 this peevish elf. [myself; 
 
 Wit. I had even as lief ye bad me hang 
 
 Leave him? no, no, I would you all knew 
 
 You be but loiterers to him, my Will tells me 
 
 true. [twain, 
 
 I could be content with a week, yea a month or 
 
 But three or four years ! marry, that were a 
 
 pain ! 
 So long to keep me, and lie like a hog ! 
 
 Will. A life, with all my heart, I would not 
 
 wish a dog. 
 Wit. Will a week serve? 
 Study. No. 
 Wit. A month? 
 Study. Neither. 
 Wit. No? 
 Study. Not so. 
 
 Instruction. No, nor so many mo. [thrive, 
 Wit. Then, farewell all ! for, as I hope to 
 I will prove him, ere I sleep, if I be alive, 
 And if ye be mine, and good fellows all three,
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act IV., Sc. i 73 
 
 Go thither out of hand, and take your chance 
 with me. 
 Instruction. For my part, I know I can do 
 
 you no good. 
 
 Will. You are a proper man of your hands, 
 
 by the rood ! [saketh. 
 
 Yet well fare him, that never his master for- 
 
 Wit. What say'st thou. Study? 
 
 Study. My head acheth. [gence ! 
 
 Wit. Out upon thee, coward ! speak, Dili- 
 
 [Diligence.] Against Instruction's mind I 
 
 am loth to go hence ; [lack. 
 
 Yet I will make one, rather than you should 
 
 Wit. Perhaps we may find them at this 
 
 time in bed. [sped ; 
 
 Will. So much the rather look you to be 
 
 Care for no more but once to come within her, 
 
 And when you have done, then let another win 
 
 her. 
 
 Wit. To come within her, child? what 
 
 meanest thou by that? 
 Will. One mass for a penny ; you know 
 
 what is what ! 
 Wit. Heard you ever such a counsel of 
 such a Jack sprat? [gfcx^d 
 
 Will. Why, sir, do ye think to do any 
 If ye stand in a corner like Robin Hood? 
 Nay, you must stout it, and face it out with 
 the best : [the least ; 
 
 Set on a good countenance, make the most of 
 Whosoever skip in, look to your part, 
 And while you live, beware of a false heart. 
 Wit. Both blame and shame rash boldness 
 
 doth br(;ed. 
 Will. You must adventure both : spare to 
 speak, spare to speed.
 
 74 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act IV,, So. i 
 
 What tell you me of shame? it is shame to 
 steal a horse. 
 Wit. More haste than good speed makes 
 
 many fare the worse. 
 Will. But he that takes not such time, while 
 he may, 
 Shall leap at a whiting, when time is away. 
 Wit. But he that leaps before he look, 
 good son, [done. 
 
 May leap in the mire, and miss when he hath 
 [Enter Science, Reason, and Experience. 
 Science. Methink I hear the voice of Will, 
 Wit's boy. [joy- 
 
 Wit. I see her come, her sorrow and my 
 My salve and yet my sore, my comfort and my 
 care, [my welfare ; 
 
 The causer of my wound, and yet the well of 
 O happy wight, that have the saint of your 
 
 request, 
 O hopeless hope, that holdeth me from that 
 which likes me best ! [make, 
 
 'Twixt hope and fear I stand, to mar or else to 
 I'his day to be relieved quite, or else my death- 
 wound to take. [all three. 
 Reason. Here let us rest awhile, and pause 
 Experience. Daughter, sit down ! belike this 
 same is he. [me. 
 Will. Be of good cheer, sir ; be ruled by 
 Women are best pleased till they be used 
 
 homely ; 
 
 Look her in the face, and tell your tale stoutly. 
 
 Wit. O pearl of passing price ! sent down 
 
 from God on high, 
 
 The s-weetest beauty to entice, that hath been 
 
 seen with eye : [annoy : 
 
 The well of wealth to all, that no man doth
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act IV., Sc. I 75 
 
 The key of kingdoms and the seal of ever- 
 lasting joy. [things began, 
 The treasure and the store, whom all good 
 The nurse of lady Wisdom's lore, the link of 
 man and man. [desire? 
 What words shall me sufliice to utter my 
 What heat of talk shall I devise for to ex- 
 press my fire? 
 I burn and yet I freeze, I flame and cool as fast, 
 In hope to win and for to lose, my pensiveness 
 doth last ; [so? 
 Why should my dulled spirit appal my courage 
 O, salve my sore, or slay me quite, by saying 
 yea or no ! [miss ; 
 You are the mark at whom I shoot to hit or 
 My life it stays on you alone, to you my suit 
 it is, [find. 
 Amity not much unmeet with you some grief to 
 Dame Nature's son, my name is Wit, that 
 
 fancieth you by kind. 
 And here I come this day to wait and to attend, 
 In hope to have my hoped prey, or else my life 
 to end. [should embrace 
 
 Science. Good cause there is wherefore I 
 This loving heart which you have borne to me ; 
 And glad I am that we be both in place, 
 I'^ach one of us each other's looks to see. 
 Your picture and your person doth agree. 
 Your prince-like port and eke your noble face, 
 Wherein so many signs of virtue be. 
 That I must needs be moved in your case. 
 Reason. Friend Wit, are you the man in- 
 deed, which you intend? [end, 
 Can you be well content, until your life doth 
 To join and knit most sure with this my 
 daughter here,
 
 76 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act IV., Sc. i 
 
 And unto her alone your fixed faith to bear? 
 Wit. As I am bent to this, so let my suit 
 be sped ; 
 If I do fail, ten thousand plagues and more 
 light on my head ! 
 Experience. There are that promise fair, 
 and mean as well 
 As any heart can think, or tongue can tell : 
 Which at the first are hot, and kindle in desire, 
 But in one month or twain quite quenched is 
 the fire. [doth lead. 
 
 Such is the trade of youth whom fancy's force 
 VV'hose love is only at the plunge, and cannot 
 long proceed. [me true. 
 
 Wit. Credit my words, and ye shall find 
 Experience. Suppose you keep not touch, 
 
 who should this bargain rue? 
 Wit. I will be sworn here solemnly before 
 
 you both. 
 Experience. Who breaketh promise will 
 
 not stick likewise to break his oath. 
 Wit. I will be bound in all that ever I can 
 
 make. 
 Experience. What good were that to us if 
 
 we th' advantage take? 
 
 Wit. Will neither promise serve, nor oath, 
 
 nor bands? 
 
 What other assurance will ye ask at my hands? 
 
 Will. My master is a gentleman, I tell you, 
 
 and his word, [accord. 
 
 I would you knew it, shall with his deeds 
 
 Reason. We know not whom to trust, the 
 
 world is so ill. 
 Will. Indeed, sir, as you say, you may 
 mend, when ye will; [on? 
 
 But in good earnest, madam, speak ! off or
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act IV., Sc. i 77 
 
 Shall we speed at your hand, or shall we be 
 
 gone ? [you ; 
 
 I love not these delays ; say so, if we shall have 
 
 If not, say no; and let another crave you. 
 
 Wit. Soft and fair, sir boy ! you talk, you 
 
 wot not what. [Aside. 
 
 Will. Can you abide to be driven off with 
 this and that? [your hands? 
 
 Can they ask any more than good assurance at 
 
 [Aside. 
 Experience. All is now too little, son, as 
 the matter stands. [lands, 
 
 Will. If all be too little, both goods and 
 I know not what will please you, except 
 Darby's bands. 
 [Science.] I have an enemy, my friend Wit, 
 a mortal foe to me ; 
 And therewithal the greatest plague that can 
 befal to thee. 
 Wit. Must I fit^ht with him? 
 Reason. Can you fight, if need be? 
 Will. If any such thing fall, count the 
 charge to me ; 
 Trouble not yourself. 
 
 Wit. Hold thy peace, elf ! 
 
 Science. Hear out my tale ; I have a mortal 
 
 foe 
 
 That lurketh in the wood hereby, as you come 
 
 and go. [mine, 
 
 This monstrous giant bears a grudge to me and 
 
 And will attempt to keep thee back from this 
 
 desire of thine; [tress, 
 
 The bane of youth, the root of ruin and dis- 
 
 Devouring^ those that sue to me, his name is 
 
 Tediousness. 
 No sooner he espies the noble Wit begin
 
 78 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act IV., Sc. i 
 
 To stir and pain itself the love of me to win 
 But forth he steps, and with strong hands by 
 
 might and main 
 He beats and buffets down the force and liveli- 
 ness of brain. [villainously : 
 That done, in deep despair he drowns him 
 Ten thousand suitors in a year are cast away 
 
 thereby. 
 Now, if your mind be surely fixed so, 
 That for no toil nor cost my love you will 
 
 forego — [heed — 
 
 Bethink you well, and of this monster take good 
 Then may you have with me the greater hope 
 
 to speed. [and stout 
 
 Herein use good advice, to make you strong 
 To fend and keep him off a while, until his 
 
 rage be out. [vail 
 
 Then when you feel yourself well able to pre- 
 Bid you the battle; and that so courageously 
 
 assail — [head ; 
 
 If you can win the field, present me with his 
 I ask no more, and I forthwith shall be your 
 
 own to bed. [me best, 
 
 Wit. Ill might I thrive, and lack that likes 
 
 If I be not a scourge to him that breedeth 
 
 your unrest. [land 
 
 Madam, assure yourself ! he lives not in the 
 With whom I would not in your cause en- 
 counter hand to hand. 
 And as for Tediousness, that wretch, our 
 
 common foe, 
 Let me alone ; we twain shall cope before I 
 
 sleep, I trow. [the back : 
 
 Will. Lustily spoken, let me claw thee by 
 
 How say you now, sir, here are three against 
 
 twain !
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act IV., Sc. 2 79 
 
 Study. Go, that go list, I will at home 
 
 remain ; 
 I have more need to take a nap in my bed. 
 Will. Do so; and, hear you ! couch a cod's- 
 
 head ! {Aside. 
 
 Instruction. Well, since it will none other- 
 wise frame, [we came. 
 Let us twain study, and return from whence 
 Study. Agreed ! Exit. 
 Wit. And let us three bestir ourselves like 
 
 men ; 
 Unlikely things are brought to pass by courage 
 
 now and then. [inch 
 
 My Will, be always prest, and ready at an 
 To save thyself, to succour me, to help at 
 
 every pinch. [can ; 
 
 Both twain on either side assault him, if ye 
 And you shall see me in the midst, how I will 
 
 play the man. 
 This is the deadly den, as far as I perceive; 
 Approach we near, and valiantly let us the 
 
 onset give. [ness hid ; 
 
 Come forth, thou monster fell, in drowsy dark- 
 For here is Wit, Dame Nature's son, that doth 
 
 thee battle bid ! 
 
 ACT IV., SC^NA 2. 
 
 Tediousness. Wit. Will. Diligence. 
 
 Tediousness. What princox have we here 
 
 that dares me assail? [to prevail? 
 
 Alas, poor boy, and weenest thou against me 
 
 Full small was he thy friend whoever sent 
 
 thee hither,
 
 So The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act IV., Sc. 2 
 
 For I must drive thee back with shame, or 
 slay thee altogether. 
 Wit. Great boast, small roast : I warrant 
 thee, do thy best ! 
 Thy head must serve my turn this day to set 
 my heart at rest. 
 Will. And I must have a leg of thee if I 
 can catch it. 
 
 Fight, strike at Will. 
 Tediousness. First I must quite this brain 
 
 of thine, if I can reach it. 
 Wit. Well shifted, Will; now have at thee, 
 
 sir knave ! 
 Tediousness. These friscols shall not serve 
 your turn for all your vaunts so brave; 
 Ho, ho ! did I not tell thee thou cam'st to thy 
 pain ! 
 Diligence. Help, help, help, our master is 
 
 slain ! 
 Will. Help, help help ! &c. 
 Tediousness. Where are these lusty bloods 
 that make their match with me? 
 Here lies a pattern for them all, to look at and 
 to see. [and might ; 
 
 To teach them to conspire against my force 
 To promise, for their woman's love, to van- 
 quish me in fight : [have sped, 
 Now let them go and crake, how wisely they 
 Such is the end of those that seek this curious 
 
 dame to wed. 
 Ho, ho, ho ! 
 
 [Exit Tediousness.
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act IV., So. 3 81 
 
 ACT IV., SCi^NA 3. 
 Will. Recreation. [PIdleness]. Wit. 
 
 Will. Rub and chafe him : [lie. 
 
 For God's love, haste ! see, lo, where he doth 
 
 Recreation. He is not cold, I warrant him, I. 
 
 Sing. 
 Give a leg, give cm arm; arise, arise I 
 Hold up thy head, lift up thy eyes ! 
 
 1 A leg to stand upright, 
 
 2 An arm to fight amain, 
 
 1 The head to hold thy brains in plight, 
 
 2 The eyes to look again. 
 
 [i] Awake, ye drowned powers! 
 Ye sprites, for-dull with toil: 
 Resign to me this care of yours, 
 And from dead sleep recoil. 
 Think not upon your loathsome luck, 
 But arise, and dance with us a-pluck. 
 
 Both sing. Give a leg, as is before. 
 
 2 What, though thou hast not hit 
 
 The top of thy desire. 
 
 Time is not so far spent as yet 
 
 To cause thee to retire. 
 
 Arise, and ease thyself of pain, 
 
 And make thee strong to fight again. 
 
 Sing both, [Give a leg, &c.] 
 
 [i] Let not thy foes rejoice; 
 Let not thy friends lament; 
 Let not thy lady's rueful voice 
 In sobs and sighs be spent; 
 Thy faith is plight, forget it not, 
 'Twixt her and thee to knit the knot. 
 Sing [both], Give a leg, &c. 
 
 A.P. IV. G
 
 82 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act IV., Sc. 3 
 
 This is no deadly wound: 
 It may be cured well. 
 See here what physic we have found 
 Thy sorrows to expel. [ground. 
 
 Wit lifting himself up, sitting on the 
 The way is plain, the mark is fair. 
 Lodge not thyself in deep despair. 
 
 Wit. What noise is this, that ringeth in my 
 ears, 
 Her noise that grieveth my mishap with tears ? 
 Ah, my mishap, my desperate mishap ! 
 In whom ill-fortune poureth down all mishap 
 at a clap — [my head? 
 
 What shall become of me, where shall I hide 
 O, what a death is it to live for him that would 
 be dead? [be. 
 
 But since it chanceth so, whatever wight thou 
 That findeth me here in heavy plight, go, tell 
 her this from me ! [have. 
 
 Causeless I perish here, and cause to curse I 
 The time that erst I lived to love, and now 
 must die her slave. [stood ; 
 
 The match was over-much for me, she under- 
 Alas, why hath she this delight to lap in guilt- 
 less blood? [despite, 
 How did I give her cause to show me this 
 To match me where she wist full well I should 
 be slain in fight? [me, 
 But go, and tell her plain, although too late for 
 Accursed be the time and hour, which first I 
 did her see ! [thereto. 
 Accursed be the wight that will'd me first 
 And cursed be they all at once that had there- 
 with to do ! [die, 
 Now get thee hence in haste, and suffer me to
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act IV., Sc. 3 83 
 
 Whom scornful chance and lawless love have 
 
 slain most traitorously. 
 Recreation. O noble Wit ! the miracle of 
 
 God and eke of Nature : 
 Why cursest thou thyself and every other 
 
 creature? 
 What causeth thee thine innocent dear lady to 
 
 accuse? 
 Who would lament it more than she to hear 
 
 this woeful news? 
 Why wilt thou die, whereas thou may'st be 
 
 sure of health? 
 Whereas thou seest a plain pathway to worship 
 
 and to wealth. [doth slay ; 
 
 Not every foil doth make a fall, nor every soil 
 Comfort thyself : be sure thy luck will mend 
 
 from day to day ! 
 Will. These gentle news of good Will are 
 
 come to make you sound. 
 They know which way to salve your sore, and 
 
 how to cure your wound. 
 Good sir, be ruled by her then, and pluck 
 
 your spirit to you : 
 There is no doubt, but you shall find your 
 
 loving lady true. 
 Wit. Ah, Will ! art thou alive? that doth my 
 
 heart some ease ; [appease : 
 
 The sight of thee, sweet boy, my sorrows doth 
 How hast thou 'scap'd? what fortune thee 
 
 befel ? 
 Will. It was no trusting to my hands, my 
 
 heels did serve me well ; 
 I ran with open mouth to cry for help amain, 
 And, as good fortune would, I hit upon these 
 
 twain. 
 
 c 2
 
 84 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act IV., Sc. 3 
 
 Wit. I thank both thee and them ; what 
 
 will ye have me do? 
 Recreation. To rise and dance a little space 
 
 with us two. 
 Wit. What then? 
 Recreation. That done, repair again to 
 
 Study and Instruction ; [set upon. 
 
 Take better hold by their advice, your foe to 
 
 Wit. Can any recompense recover this my 
 
 fall? [mended all. 
 
 Recreation. My life to yours, it may be 
 Wit. Speak, Will ! 
 Will. I have no doubt, sir, it shall be as 
 
 you would wish. 
 Wit. But yet this repulse of mine they will 
 
 lay in my dish. 
 Recreation. No man shall let them know 
 
 thereof, unless yourself do it. 
 Wit. On that condition, a God's name, fall 
 
 we to it. [no more. 
 
 Will. Nay, stand we to it, and let us fall 
 Wit. Will dancing- serve, and I will dance 
 
 until my bones be sore — 
 Pipe us up a galliard, minstrel, to begin ! 
 Let Will call for dances, one after another. 
 Will. Come, damsel, in good faith, and let 
 
 me have you in, [himself breathless. 
 
 Let him practise in dancing all things to make 
 
 [A line [or lines) may have been dropped.] 
 
 Recreation. Enough at once ! now leave, 
 
 and let us part. 
 Wit. This exercise hath done me good, 
 
 even to the very heart. [take, 
 
 Let us be bold with you more acquaintance to 
 And dance a round yet once more for my sake. 
 
 [Dance again.]
 
 The'M&rriage of Wit and Science, Act IV., Sc. 4 85 
 
 Enough is enough ; farewell ! and at your need 
 Use my acquaintance, if it may stand you in 
 
 stead. [gains 
 
 Right worthy damsels both, I know you seek no 
 In recompense of this desert your undeserved 
 
 pains. [devise, 
 
 But look what other thing my service may 
 To show my thankful heart in any enterprise. 
 Be ye as bold therewith, as I am bold on you. 
 And thus with hearty thanks I take my leave 
 
 as now. 
 Recreation. Farewell, friend Wit ! and since 
 
 you are relieved, [grieved. 
 
 Think not upon your foil, whereat you were so 
 But take your heart to you, and give attempt 
 
 once more : [before. 
 
 I warrant you to speed much better than 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT IV., SC^NA 4. 
 Wit. Will. Idleness. Ignorance. 
 
 Wit. One dance for thee and me ; my boy, 
 come on ! 
 
 Will. Dance you, sir, if you please, and I 
 will look upon. [breathe apace. 
 
 Wit. This gear doth make me sweat, and 
 
 Idleness. Sir, ease yourself awhile ! here is 
 a resting-place. 
 
 Wit. Home, Will ! and make my bed, for I 
 will take a nap. 
 
 Ignorance. Sure, and it please your master- 
 ship, here in my dame's lap.
 
 86 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act IV., Sc. 4 
 
 Idleness singeth. 
 Come, come, lie down, and thou shall see 
 None like to me to entertain 
 Thy bones and thee oppressed with pain. 
 Come, come, and ease thee in my lap. 
 And if it please thee, take a nap; 
 A nap that shall delight thee so 
 That fancies all will thee forego. 
 By musing still what canst thou find 
 But wants of will and restless mind? 
 A mind that mars and mangles all. 
 And hreedeth jars to work thy fall! 
 Come, gentle Wit, I thee require. 
 And thou shalt hit thy chief desire: 
 Thy chief desire, thy hoped prey; 
 First ease thee here, and then away ! 
 
 Falls down into her lap. 
 Wit. My bones are stiff, and I am wearied 
 
 sore. 
 And still me-think I faint and feeble more and 
 
 more ; 
 Wake me again in time, for I have things to 
 
 do, [thereto. 
 
 And as you will me for mine ease, I do assent 
 
 Lulls him. 
 Idleness. Welcome, with all my heart ! sir 
 
 boy, hold here this fan, [man ! 
 
 And softly cool his face ; sleep soundly, gentle- 
 This char is charr'd well now; Ignorance, my 
 
 son. 
 Thou seest all this, how fitly it is done; 
 But wot'st thou why? 
 
 Ignorance. Nay, bumfay, mother, not I ! 
 Well, I wot 'tis a gay worched trick and trim : 
 Chould rejouce my heart to chance coots with 
 
 him.
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act IV., Sc. 4 87 
 
 Idleness. Dost thou remember how many 
 
 I have served in the Hke sort? 
 
 Ignorance. It doth my heart good to think 
 
 on this sport. [served so? 
 
 Idleness. Wilt thou see this proper fellow 
 
 Ignorance. Chould g:ive two pence to see 
 
 it, and two pence more. 
 Idleness. Come off, then, let me see thee 
 
 in thy doublet and thy hose. 
 Ignorance. You shall see a tall fellow, 
 
 mother, I suppose. 
 
 Idleness. Help off with this sleeve softly for 
 
 fear of waking, f''^' 
 
 We shall leave the gentleman in a pretty tak- 
 
 Give me thy coat, hold this in thy hand : 
 
 This fellow would be married to Science, I 
 
 understand. 
 But, ere we leave him, tell me another tale ! 
 Now let us make him look somewhat stale. 
 There lie, and there be : the proverb is verified, 
 I am neither idle, nor yet well-occupied. 
 Ignorance. Mother, must I have his coat? 
 now, mother, mu^? 
 Chal be a lively lad with hey tisty-tust. 
 
 Idleness. Sleep sound, and have no care to 
 
 occupy thy head, [been dead. 
 
 As near unto thy body now as if thou had'st 
 
 For Idleness hath won, and wholly thee pos- 
 
 sess'd, [request. 
 
 And utterly disabled thee from having thy 
 
 Come on with me, my son, let us go couch 
 
 again, [remain. 
 
 And let this lusty ruffling Wit here like a fool 
 
 [Exeunt.
 
 88 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act V., Sc. i 
 
 ACT v., SCi^NA I. 
 
 Wit. Science. Reason. 
 
 Wit. Up and to go ! why sleep I here so 
 sound? [ground? 
 
 How falls it out that I am left upon the naked 
 God grant that all be well whilst I lie dream- 
 ing here : [were. 
 Methinks all is not as it was, nor as I would it 
 And yet I wot not why ; but so my fancies gives 
 me [grieves me. 
 That some one thing or other in my 'tire that 
 They are but fancies, let them go : to Science 
 now will I ; [and apply. 
 My suit and business yet once again to labour 
 [Enter Science and Reason. 
 Science. What is become, trow ye, of Wit, 
 our spouse that would be? [should be. 
 Reason. Daughter, I fear all is not as it 
 Wit. Yes, yes, have ye no doubt, all is and 
 
 shall be well. 
 Reason. What one art thou? thereof how 
 
 canst thou tell? 
 Wit. Reason, most noble sir; and you, my 
 lady dear. 
 How have you done in all this time, since first 
 I saw you here? 
 Science. The fool is mad, I ween; stand 
 
 back, and touch me not ! 
 Wit. You speak not as you think, or have 
 
 you me forgot? 
 Science. I never saw thee in my life until 
 this time, I wot ; 
 Thou art some mad-brain or some fool, or 
 some disguised Scot.
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act V., Sc i 89 
 
 Wit. God's fish-hooks! and know you not 
 
 me? 
 Science. I had been well at ease indeed to 
 
 be acquainted with thee ! 
 Wit. Hop haliday ! marry, this is pretty 
 cheer ; 
 I have lost myself, I cannot tell where ! 
 An old-said saw it is, and too true, I find. 
 Soon hot, soon cold : out of sight, out of mind. 
 What, madam, what meaneth this sudden 
 
 change? 
 What means this scornful look, this counten- 
 ance so strange? 
 Is it your fashion so to use your lovers at the 
 
 first? 
 Or have all women this delight to scold and to 
 be curs'd? 
 Reason. Good fellow, whence art thou? 
 
 what is thy name? 
 Wit. I ween ye are disposed to make at 
 me some game. 
 I am the son of lady Nature; my name is Wit. 
 Reason. Thou shalt say so long enough 
 
 ere we believe it. 
 Science. Thou Wit? nay, thou art some 
 
 mad-brain out of thy wit. 
 Wit. Unto yourselves this trial I remit. 
 Look on me better, and mark my person well. 
 Science. Thy look is like to one that came 
 
 out of hell. 
 Reason. If thou be Wit, let see what 
 tokens thou canst tell. [said we? 
 
 How com'st thou first acquainted here? what 
 How did we like thy suit, what entertainment 
 made we? 
 Wit. What tokens?
 
 90 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act V., Sc. z 
 
 Science. Yea, what tokens? speak, and let 
 
 us know. [a-row : 
 
 Wit. Tokens good store F can rehearse 
 
 First, as I was advised by my mother Nature, 
 
 My lackey Will presented you with my picture. 
 
 Science. Stay there, now look how these 
 
 two faces agree ! 
 Wit. This is the very same that you re- 
 ceived from me. 
 Science. From thee? why look! they are 
 no more like 
 Than chalk to cheese, than black to white. 
 Reason. To put thee out of doubt, if thou 
 think we say not true, [view. 
 
 It were good for thee in a glass thy face to 
 Wit. Well-remembered, and a glass I have 
 indeed, 
 Which glass you gave me to use at need. 
 Reason. Hast thou the glass, which I to 
 
 Wit did give? 
 Wit. I have it in my purse, and will keep 
 it, while I live. [come thereby? 
 
 Reason. This makes me muse how should he 
 Wit. Sir, muse no more ; for it is even I 
 To whom you gave the glass, and here it is. 
 Reason. We are content thou try thy case 
 
 by this. 
 Wit [looking in the glass]. Either my glass 
 is wonderfully spotted, 
 Or else my face is wonderfully blotted. 
 This is not my coat; why, where had I this 
 
 weed? 
 By the mass ! I look like a very fool indeed. 
 O heaps of haps, O rueful chance to me ! 
 O Idleness, woe worth the time that I was 
 ruled by thee !
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act V., Sc. 2 91 
 
 Why did I lay my head within thy lap to rest? 
 Why was I not advis'd by her that wish'd and 
 
 will'd me best? 
 O ten times treble blessed wights, whose corps 
 
 in grave do lie : 
 That are not driven to behold these wretched 
 
 cares which die. [your spite ; 
 
 On me you furies all, on me, have poured out 
 Come now and slay me at the last, and rid my 
 
 sorrows quite ! 
 What coast shall me receive? where shall I 
 
 show my head? 
 The world will say this same is he that, if he 
 
 list, had sped. [hand ; 
 
 This same is he that took an enterprise in 
 This same is he that scarce one blow his enemy 
 
 did withstand. [field : 
 
 This same is he that fought and fell in open 
 This same is he that in the song of Idleness 
 
 did yield. [game : 
 
 This same is he that was in way to win the 
 To join himself whereby he should have won 
 
 immortal fame ; [despair. 
 
 And now is wrapp'd in woe, and buried in 
 O happy case for thee if death would rid thee 
 
 quite of care ! 
 
 ACT v., SC^NA 2. 
 
 Shame. Reason. Science. Wit. 
 
 Reason. Shame ! 
 Shame. Who calls for Shame? 
 Reason. Here is a merchant, Shame, for 
 thee to tame.
 
 92 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act V., So. 3 
 
 Shame. A shame come to you all, for I 
 
 am almost lame [their game. 
 
 With trudging- up and down to them that lose 
 
 Reason. And here is one whom thou must 
 
 rightly blame, 
 
 That hath preferr'd his folly to his fame. 
 
 Shame. Who? this good fellow? what call 
 
 you his name? [Science came. 
 
 Reason. Wit, that on wooing to lady 
 
 Shame. Come aloft, child ! let me see what 
 
 friscols you can fet. 
 Reason. He hath deserved it, let him be 
 
 well bet. 
 Wit. O, spare me with the whip, and slay 
 me with thy knife : 
 Ten thousand times more dear to me were 
 present death than life. 
 Shame. Nay, nay, my friend, thou shalt 
 
 not die as yet. 
 Reason. Remember in what case dame 
 Nature left thee, Wit ; 
 And how thou hast abused the same — 
 Thou hast deceived all our hope, as all the 
 world may see. 
 Sham.e. A, shame come to it ! 
 Reason. Remember, what fair words and 
 promises thou diddest make, 
 That for my daughter's love no pains thou 
 
 wouldest forsake. 
 Remember in what sort we had a care of thee : 
 Thou hast deceived all our hope, as all the 
 world may see. 
 Shame. A, shame come to it ! 
 Reason. Remember, how Instruction should 
 have been followed still,
 
 The Marriag-e of Wit and Science, Act V., Sc. 2 93 
 
 And how thou wouldest be ruled by none but 
 by Will. [breast, 
 
 How Idleness hath crept, and reigneth in thy 
 How Ignorance her son hath wholly thee pos- 
 sess "^d. 
 Shame. A, shame come to it ! 
 Wit. O woeful wretch ! to whom shall I 
 complain? 
 What salve may serve to salve my sore, or to 
 redress my pain? [remember, how 
 
 [Reason.^ Nay, I can tell thee more : 
 Thou was subdued of Tediousness right now. 
 Remember with what crakes thou went unto 
 
 his den 
 Against the good advice and counsel of thy 
 
 men ; 
 What Recreation did for thee in these thy 
 
 rueful haps, 
 
 And how the second time thou fell into the lap. 
 
 Shame. A, shame come to thee ! 
 
 Wit. O, let me breathe awhile, and hold 
 
 thy heavy hand, [derstand. 
 
 My grievous faults, with shame enough, I un- 
 
 Take ruth and pity on my plaint, or else I am 
 
 forlorn ; [to scorn. 
 
 Let not the world continue thus in laughing me 
 
 Madam, if I be he, to whom you once were 
 
 bent, [were content : 
 
 With whom to spend your time sometime you 
 
 If any hope be left, if any recompense 
 
 Be able to recover this forepassed negligence, 
 
 O, help me now, poor wretch, in this most 
 
 heavy plight, 
 And furnish me yet once again with Tedious- 
 ness to fight ! [tender years ; 
 Science. Father, be good to these young
 
 94 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act V., Sc. 3 
 
 See, how he doth bewail his folly past with 
 
 tears ! 
 Reason. Hold, slave, take thou his coat 
 
 for thy labour ! [our favour. 
 
 We are content, at her request, to take you to 
 Come in, and dwell with us, till time shall 
 
 serve : [never swerve. 
 
 And from Instruction['s] rule look that thou 
 Within we shall provide to set you up once 
 
 more, 
 This scourge hath taught you, what default 
 
 was in you heretofore. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT v., SC^NA 3. 
 
 Will. 
 
 Will. Once in my life I have an odd half- 
 hour to spare, 
 To ease myself of all my travail and my care. 
 I stood not still so long this twenty days, I 
 ween, [been. 
 
 But ever more sent forth on messages I have 
 Such trudging and such toil, by the mass ! was 
 never seen ; [clean. 
 
 My body is worn out, and spent with labour 
 And this it is that makes me look so lean. 
 That lets my growth, and makes me seem a 
 
 squall ; 
 What then, although my stature be not tall, 
 Yet I am as prof>er as you, so neat and cleanly, 
 And have my joints at commandment full of 
 activity. [bones 
 
 What should a servant do with all this flesh and
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act V., Sc. 4 95 
 
 That makes them run with leaden heels, and 
 
 stir themself like stones? 
 Give me a proper squire much after my pitch, 
 And mark how he from place to place will 
 
 squich — 
 Fair or foul, thick or thin, mire or dusty; 
 Cloud or rain, light or dark, clear or misty; 
 Ride or run, to or fro, bad or good — 
 A neat little fellow on his business will scud. 
 These great lubbers are neither active nor wise 
 That feed till they sleep, and sleep out their 
 
 eyes. 
 So heavy, so dull, so untoward in their doing, 
 That it is a good sight to see them leave work- 
 ing. 
 But all this while, while I stand prating here, 
 I see not my master; I left him snorting here. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 ACT v., SCi€NA 4. 
 
 Science. Wit. Will. Instruction. Study. 
 Diligence. Tediousness. 
 
 Science. Mine own dear Wit, the hope of 
 
 mine avail, [trust. 
 
 My care, my comfort, my treasure and my 
 
 Take heart of grace our enemy to assail ; 
 
 Lay up these things which .you have heard 
 
 discuss'd ; 
 So doing, undoubtingly you cannot fail 
 To win the field, to 'scape all these unhappy 
 shewers ; [wail; 
 
 To glad your friends, to cause your foes to 
 To match with us, and then the gain is yours.
 
 96 The Marriag^e of Wit and Science, Act V., Sc 4 
 
 Here in this closet ourself will sit and see 
 Your manly feats and your success in fight : 
 Strike home courageously for you and me; 
 Learn where and how to fend, and how to 
 
 smite. 
 In any wise, be ruled by these three; 
 They shall direct both you and Will aright. 
 Farewell ! and let our loving counsel be 
 At every hand before you in your fight. [Exit. 
 Wit. Here in my sight, good madam, sit 
 
 and view : 
 That, when I list, I may look upon you. 
 This face, this noble face, this lively hue 
 Shall harden me, shall make our enemy rue. 
 O faithful mates ! that have this care of me, 
 How shall I ever recompense your pains with 
 
 gold or fee? 
 Come now, and, as you please, enjoin me how 
 
 to do it, 
 And you shall see me prest and serviceable to 
 
 it. 
 
 [Wit is going out. 
 Will. Why, master, whither [a]way? what 
 
 haste? am I no body? 
 Instruction. What, Will ! we may not miss 
 
 thee for no money. [art bid ; 
 
 Wit. Welcome, good Will ! and do as thou 
 This day or never must Tediousness be rid. 
 Will. God speed us well, I will make one 
 
 at all assays. 
 Instruction. Thou shalt watch to take him 
 
 at certain bays ; 
 Come not in the throng, but save thyself 
 
 always. 
 You twain on either side first with your sword 
 
 and buckler ; [and daggers ; 
 
 After the first conflict, fight with your sword
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act V., Sc. £ 97 
 
 You, sir, with a javelin and your target in your 
 
 hand. 
 See how ye can his deadly strokes withstand. 
 Keep at the foin ; come not within his reach 
 Until you see what good advantage you may 
 catch. [him dead ; 
 
 Then hardily leave him not till time you strike 
 And, of all other parts, especially save your 
 head. 
 Wit. Is this all, for I would fain have done? 
 Will. I would we were at it, I care not how 
 
 soon. 
 
 Instruction. Now, when ye please; I have 
 
 no more to tell, [well. 
 
 But heartily to pray for you, and wish you 
 
 Wit. I thank you ; go thou, and bid the 
 
 battle, Will. 
 Will. Come out, thou monster fell ! that 
 hast desire to spill 
 The knot and linked love of Science and of 
 
 Wit ; 
 Come, try the quarrel in the field, and fight 
 with us a fit ! 
 
 ACT v., SC^NA 5. 
 
 Tediousness. Wit. Will. Instruction. 
 Study. Diligence. 
 
 Tediousness. A doughty dirt these four 
 hoys will do : 
 I will eat them by morsels, two and two ! 
 Thou fightcst for a wife ! a rod, a rod ! 
 Had I wist this, I would have laid on load. 
 And beat thy brain and this my club together, 
 
 A. p. IV. H
 
 98 The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act V., So. 5 
 
 And made thee safe enough for returning 
 hither. 
 Will. A foul whoreson ! what a sturdy thief 
 it is ! 
 But we will pelt thee, knave, until for woe 
 thou piss. 
 Tediousness. Let me come to that elf. 
 Wit. Nay, nay, thou shalt have work 
 
 enough to save thyself. Fight. 
 
 Instruction. Take breath, and change your 
 
 weapons ; play the men. 
 
 [Tediousness.] Somewhat it was that made 
 
 thee come again. [I see ; 
 
 Thou stickest somewhat better to thy tackling, 
 
 But what, no force ; ye are but Jacksprat to 
 
 me. [to eat. 
 
 Wit. Have hold, here is a morsel for thee 
 
 [Strikes. 
 Study [and] Instruction. Here is a pelt to 
 
 make your knave's heart fret. 
 Diligence, ihere is a blow able to fell a hog. 
 Wit. And here is a foin behind for a mad 
 dog ! [Let Will trip you down. 
 
 Hold, hold, hold, the lubber is down ! 
 Tediousness. On ! 
 Will. Strike off his head, while I hold him 
 
 by the crown ! 
 Wit. Thou monstrous wretch, thou mortal 
 foe to me and mine, 
 Which evermore at my good luck and fortune 
 
 did'st repine. 
 
 Take here thy just desert and payment for thy 
 
 hire ! [heart's desire. 
 
 Thy head this day shall me prefer unto my 
 
 Instruction. O noble Wit ! the praise, the 
 
 game is thine.
 
 The Marriag-e of Wit and Science, Act V., Sc. 6 99 
 
 Study. Hove up his head upon your spear, 
 
 lo, here a joyful sign ! 
 Diligence. O valiant knight, O conquest 
 
 full of praise ! 
 Will. O bliss of God to see these happy 
 
 days ! 
 Wit. You, you, my faithful squires, deserve 
 no less, 
 Whose tried trust, well-known to me in my 
 
 distress, 
 And certain hope of your fix'd faith and fast 
 
 goodwill. 
 Made me attempt this famous fact, most need- 
 ful to fulfil : [the gain. 
 To you I yield great thanks, to me redounds 
 Now home apace, and ring it out, that Tedious- 
 ness is slain ! 
 
 Say all at once, Tediousness is slain. 
 
 ACT v., SC^NA 6. 
 
 Science. Wit. 
 
 Science. I hear and see the joyful news, 
 wherein I take delight, 
 That Tediousness, our mortal foe, is overcome 
 
 in fight : 
 
 I see the sign of victory, the sign of manliness : 
 
 The heap of happy haps : the joy that tongue 
 
 cannot express. [shall arise. 
 
 O welcome fame from day to day for ever 
 
 Wit. Avaunt, ye griping cares ! and lodge 
 
 no more in me. 
 
 For you have lost, and I have won continual 
 
 joys and fee. [brace. 
 
 Now let me freely touch, and freely you cm- 
 
 II 2
 
 loo The Marriage of Wit and Science, Act V., So. 6 
 
 And let my friends with open mouth proclaim 
 
 my blissful case. 
 Science. The world shall know, doubt not, 
 
 and shall blow out your fame, 
 Then true report shall send abroad your ever- 
 lasting name. 
 Now let our parents dear be certified of this 
 So that our marriage may forthwith proceed, 
 
 as meet it is. 
 Come after me, all five, and I will lead you in. 
 Wit. My pain is pass'd, my gladness to 
 
 begin, 
 My task is done, my heart is set at rest ; 
 My foe subdued, my lady's love possess'd. 
 I thank my friends, whose help I have at need. 
 And thus you see, how Wit and Science are 
 
 agreed. [must dwell : 
 
 We twain henceforth one soul in bodies twain 
 Rejoice, I pray you all with me, my friends, 
 
 and fare ye well ! 
 
 Finis.
 
 GRIM THE COLLIER 
 OF CROYDON 
 
 Or, the devil AND HIS DAME : 
 
 WITH THE DEVIL AND 
 
 SAINT DUNSTAN 
 
 By I. T. 
 
 ItontJon : 
 Printed in the year [1662] 12*
 
 JBramattij l^trionat 
 
 St. Dunstan, Jbbot of Glastonbury 
 
 Morgan, Earl of London 
 
 Lacy, Earl of Kent 
 
 HoNOREA, Morgan s daughter 
 
 Marian, her Waiting-maid 
 
 Nan, Marian s maid 
 
 MusGRAVE, a young Gentleman 
 
 Captain Clinton 
 
 Miles Forrest, a Gentleman 
 
 Ralph Harvey, an Apothecary 
 
 Grim, the Collier of Croydon 
 
 Parson Shorthose 
 
 Clack, a Miller 
 
 Joan, a Country Maid 
 
 Pluto 
 
 Minos 
 
 i^ACUS 
 
 Rhadamanthus 
 
 Belphegor 
 
 Akercock, or Robin Goodfellow 
 
 Malbecco's Ghost^ Officers^ Attendants^ isfc. 
 
 Devils 
 
 The Stage is England
 
 GRIM THE COLLIER OF 
 CROYDON 
 
 [PROLOGUE.] 
 
 You're welcome; but our plot I dare not tell 
 For fear I fright a lady with great belly : [ye, 
 Or should a scold be 'mong you, I dare say 
 She'd make more work than the devil in the 
 
 play. 
 Heard you not never how an actor's wife, 
 Whom he (fond fool) lov'd dearly as his life, 
 Coming in's way did chance to get a jape, 
 As he was 'tired in his devil's shape; 
 And how equivocal a generation 
 Was then begot, and brought forth thereupon? 
 Let it not fright you ; this I dare to say, 
 Here is no lecherous devil in our play. 
 He will not rumple Peg, nor Joan, nor Nan, 
 But has enough at home to do with Marian, 
 Whom he so little pleases, she in scorn 
 Does teach his devilship to wind the horn; 
 But if your children cry when Robin comes. 
 You may to still them buy here pears or plums. 
 Then sit you quiet all who are come in, 
 St. Dunstan will soon enter and begin.
 
 104 Grim the Collier, Act I., Sc. i 
 
 ACT I., SCENE I. 
 
 A place being provided for the devil's 
 consistory, enter St. Dunstan with his 
 heads, book, and crosier-staff, <Sr'c. 
 
 St. Dun. Envy, that always waits on 
 
 virtue's train, 
 And tears the graves of quiet sleeping souls, 
 Hath brought me, after many hundred years. 
 To show myself again upon the earth. 
 Know then (who list) that I am English born, 
 My name is Dunstan ; whilst I liv'd with men, 
 Chief primate of the holy English church. 
 I was begotten in West Saxony : 
 My father's name was Heorstan, my mother's 
 
 Cinifred. 
 Endowed with my merit's legacy, 
 I flourish'd in the reign of seven great kings : 
 The first was Athelstane, whose niece Elfleda 
 Malicious tongues reported I defiled : 
 Next him came Edmond, then Edred, and 
 
 Edwin, 
 And after him reign'd Edgar, a great prince. 
 But full of many crimes, which I restrain'd : 
 Edward his son, and lastly Ethelred. 
 With all these kings was I in high esteem. 
 And kept both them and all the land in awe ; 
 And, had I liv'd, the Danes had never boasted 
 Their then beginning conquest of this land. 
 Yet some accuse me for a conjuror. 
 By reason of those many miracles 
 Which heaven for holy life endowed me with. 
 But whoso looks into the "Golden Legend " 
 (That sacred register of holy saints) 
 Shall find me by the pope canonised,
 
 Grim the Collier, Act I., Sc. i 105 
 
 And happily the cause of this report 
 Might rise by reason of a vision 
 Which I beheld in great King Edgar's days, 
 Being that time Abbot of Glastonbury, 
 Which (for it was a matter of some worth). 
 I did make known to few until this day : 
 But now I purpose that the world shall see 
 How much those slanderers have wronged me ; 
 Nor will I trouble you with courts and kings, 
 Or drive a feigned battle out of breath, 
 Or keep a coil myself upon the stage ; 
 But think you see me in my secret cell, 
 Arm'd with my portass, bidding of my beads. 
 But on a sudden I'm o'ercome with sleep ! 
 If aught ensue, watch you, for Dunstan 
 dreams. 
 
 He layeth him down to sleep; lightning 
 and thunder ; the curtains drawn, on a 
 sudden Pluto, Minos, /Eacus, Rhada- 
 manthus set in counsel; before them 
 Malbecco's ghost guarded with furies. 
 Plu. You ever-dreaded judges of black hell. 
 Grim Minos, /Eacus, and Rhadamanth, 
 Lords of Cocytus, Styx, and Phlegcthon, 
 Princes of darkness, Pluto's ministers, 
 Know that the greatness of his present cause 
 Hath made ourselves in person sit as judge, 
 To hear th' arraignment of Malbecco's ghost. 
 Stand forth, thou ghastly pattern of despair, 
 And to this powerful synod tell thy tale. 
 That we may hear if thou canst justly say 
 Thou wert not author of thy own decay. 
 
 Mai. Infernal Jove, great prince of Tartary, 
 With humble reverence poor Malbccco speaks. 
 Still trembling with the fatal memory 
 Of his so late concluded tragedy.
 
 io6 Grim the Collier, Act I., Sc. i 
 
 I was (with thanks to your great bounty) bred 
 A wealthy lord, whilst that I liv'd on earth; 
 And so might have continu'd to this day, 
 Had not that plague of mankind fall'n on me : 
 For I (poor man) join'd woe unto my name 
 By choosing out a woman for my wife. 
 A wife ! a curse ordained for the world. 
 Fair Helena ! fair she was indeed, 
 But foully stain'd with inward wickedness. 
 I kept her bravely, and I lov'd her dear; 
 But that dear love did cost my life and all. 
 To reckon up a thousand of her pranks. 
 Her pride, her wasteful spending, her unkind- 
 
 ness, 
 Her false dissembling, seeming sanctity, 
 Her scolding, pouting, prating, meddling, 
 And twenty hundred more of the same stamp, 
 Were but to reap an endless catalogue 
 Of what the world is plagu'd with every day. 
 But for the main of that I have to tell, 
 It chanced thus : late in a rainy night 
 A crew of gallants came unto my house, 
 And (will I, nill I) would forsooth be lodg'd. 
 I brought them in, and made them all good 
 
 cheer 
 (Such as I had in store), and lodg'd them soft. 
 Amongst them one, ycleped Paridell 
 (The falsest thief that ever trod on ground), 
 Robb'd me, and with him stole away my wife, 
 I (for I lov'd her dear) pursu'd the thief, 
 And after many days in travel spent. 
 Found her amongst a crew of satyrs wild, 
 Kissing and colling all the livelong night. 
 I spake her fair, and pray'd her to return; 
 But she in scorn commands me to be gone, 
 And glad I was to fly, to save my life.
 
 Grim the Collier, Act I., Sc. i 107 
 
 But when I backward came unto my house, 
 
 I find it spoil'd, and all my treasure g^one. 
 
 Desp'rate and mad, I ran I knew not whither, 
 
 Calling and crying out on heaven and fate, 
 
 Till, seeing none to pity my distress, 
 
 I threw myself down headlong on a rock, 
 
 And so concluded all my ills at once. 
 
 Now, judge you, justice benchers, if my wife 
 
 Were not the instrument to end my life. 
 
 Plu. Can it be possible (you lords of hell) 
 Malbecco's tale of women should be true? 
 Is marriage now become so great a curse, 
 That whilom was the comfort of the world? 
 A/in. Women, it seems, have lost their 
 
 native shame, 
 As no man better may complain than I ; 
 Though not of any whom I made my wife, 
 But of my daughter, who procured my fall. 
 /Eac. 'Tis strange what plaints are brought 
 
 us every day 
 Of men made miserable by marriage; 
 So that, amongst a thousand, scarcely ten 
 Have not some grievous actions 'gainst their 
 
 wives. [you, 
 
 Rha. My lord, if Rhadamanth might counsel 
 
 Your grace should send some one into the 
 
 world, 
 That might make proof if it be true or no. 
 Plu. And wisely hast thou counsell'd, 
 
 Rhadamanth, 
 Call in Belphegor to me presently; 
 
 One of Vie juries goes for Belphegor. 
 He is the fittest that I know in hell 
 7^o undertake a task of such import; 
 For he is patir-nt, mild, and pitiful — 
 Humours but ill agreeing with our kingdom.
 
 io8 Grim the Collier, Act I., Sc. x 
 
 Enter Belphegor. 
 
 And here he comes. Belphegor, so it is, 
 We in our awful synod have decreed 
 (Upon occasion to ourselves best known) 
 That thou from hence shall go into the world, 
 And take upon thee the shape of a man, 
 In which estate thou shalt be married. 
 Choose thee a wife that best may please thyself. 
 And live with her a twelvemonth and a day. 
 Thou shalt be subject unto human chance, 
 So far as common wit cannot relieve thee ; 
 Thou shalt of us receive ten thousand pounds, 
 Sufficient stock to use for thy increase : 
 But whatsoever happens in that time. 
 Look not from us for succour or relief, [pired. 
 This shalt thou do, and when the time's ex- 
 Bring word to us what thou hast seen and 
 done. [content, 
 
 Bel. With all my heart, my lord, I am 
 So I may have my servant Akercock 
 To wait on me, as if he were my man. 
 That he may witness likewise what is done. 
 
 Plu. We are contented, he shall go with 
 thee. [jesty 
 
 Min. But what meantime decrees your ma- 
 Of poor Malbecco? 
 
 Plu. He shall rest with us 
 Until Belphegor do return again ; 
 And as he finds, so will we give his doom. 
 Come, let us go and set our spial forth. 
 Who for a time must make experiment 
 If hell be not on earth as well as here. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
 It thunders and lightens; the devils go 
 forth; Dunstan rising, runneth about
 
 Grim the Collier, Act I., Sc. 3 109 
 
 the stage, laying about him with his 
 staff. 
 St. Dun. Satan, avaunt ! thou art man's 
 enemy : 
 Thou shalt not live amongst us so unseen, 
 So to betray us to the prince of darkness. 
 Satan, avaunt ! I do conjure thee hence — 
 What, dream 'st thou, Dunstan? yea, I dream 'd 
 
 indeed. 
 Must then the devil come into the world? 
 Such is, belike, the infernal king's decree. 
 Well, be it so ; for Dunstan is content. 
 Mark well the process of the devil's dfsguise, 
 Who happily may learn you to be wise. 
 Women, beware ! and make your bargains well ; 
 The devil, to choose a wife, is come from hell. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 SCENE 2. 
 
 Enter Morgan (Earl of London), Lacy 
 (Earl of Kent), with Miles Forrest. 
 
 Mor. My Lord of Kent, your honour knows 
 
 my mind. 
 That ever has, and still does honour you. 
 Accounting it my daughter's happiness 
 (Amidst her other infelicities). 
 That you vouchsafe to love her as you do. 
 How gladly I would grant your lordship's suit 
 The heavens can witness, which with ruthless 
 
 ears 
 Have often heard my yet unpitied plaints ; 
 And could I find some means for her recovery, 
 None but yourst-lf should have her to your wife. 
 Lacy. My Lord of London, now long time 
 
 it is
 
 no Grim the Collier, Act I., Sc a 
 
 Since Lacy first was suitor to your daughter, 
 The fairest Honorea, in whose eyes 
 Honour itself in love's sweet bosom lies. 
 What shall we say, or seem to strive with 
 
 heaven, 
 Who speechless sent her first into the world? 
 In vain it is for us to think to loose 
 That which by nature's self we see is bound. 
 Her beauty, with her other virtues join'd, 
 Are gifts sufficient, though she want a tongue; 
 And some will count it virtue in a woman 
 Still to be bound to unoffending silence; 
 Though I could wish with half of all my lands 
 That she could speak : but since it may not be 
 'Twere vain to imprison beauty with her speech. 
 For. Have you not heard, my lords, the 
 
 wondrous fame 
 Of holy Dunstan, Abbot of Glastonbury? 
 What miracles he hath achiev'd of late; 
 And how the rood of Dovercourt did speak, 
 Confirming his opinion to be true : 
 And how the holy consistory fell. 
 With all the monks that were assembled there. 
 Saving one beam whereon this Dunstan sat; 
 And other more such miracles as these. 
 They say he is of such religious life, 
 That angels often use to talk with him. 
 And tell to him the secrets of the heavens. 
 No question, if your honours would but try, 
 He could procure my lady for to speak. 
 
 Mor. Believe me, Forrest, thou hast well 
 
 advis'd. 
 For I have heard of late much talk of him. 
 Lacy. Is not that Dunstan he who check'd 
 
 the king 
 About his privy dealing with the nun.
 
 Grim the Collier, Act I., Sc. 3 tii 
 
 And made him to do penance for the fault? 
 Mor. The same is he ; for whom I straight 
 will send. 
 Miles Forrest shall in post to Glastonbury, 
 And gently pray the abbot for my sake 
 To come to London. Sure, I hope the heavens 
 Have ordain 'd Dunstan to do Morgan good. 
 Lacy. Let us despatch him thither pre- 
 sently ; 
 For I myself will stay for his return, 
 And see some end or other, ere I go. 
 
 Mor. Come, then, Lord Lacy ! Forrest, 
 come away ! Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE 3. 
 
 Enter Belphegor, attired like a phy- 
 sician; Akercock, his man, in a tawny 
 coat. 
 
 Bel. Now is Belphegor, an incarnate devil, 
 Come to the earth to seek him out a dame : 
 Hell be my speed ! and so, I hope, it will. 
 In lovely London are we here arrived; 
 Where, as I hear, the earl hath a fair daughter 
 So full of virtue and soft modesty 
 That yet she never gave a man foul word. 
 
 Aker. Marry ! indeed, they say she cannot 
 speak. [guise, 
 
 Rd. For this cause have I taken this dis- 
 And will profess me a physician, 
 Come up on purpose for to cure the lady. 
 Marry ! no may shall hind me but herself, 
 And she I do intend shall be my wife. [way : 
 
 .iker. But, master, tell me one thing by the
 
 112 Grim the Collier, Act I., Sc. 3 
 
 Do you not mean that I shall marry too? 
 
 Bel. No, Akercock, thou shalt be still un- 
 For if they be as bad as is reported, [wed; 
 
 One wife will be enough to tire us both. 
 
 Aker. O, then you mean that I shall now 
 and then 
 Have, as it were, a course at base with her? 
 
 Bel. Not so, not so, that's one of marriage' 
 plagues 
 Which I must seek to shun amongst the rest, 
 And live in sweet contentment with my wife. 
 That when I back again return to hell 
 All women may be bound to reverence me 
 For saving of their credits, as I will. 
 But who comes here? 
 
 Enter Captain Clinton. 
 
 Clin. This needs must tickle Musgrave to 
 the quick, 
 And stretch his heart-strings farther by an inch, 
 That Lacy must be marriec^ to his love : 
 And by that match my market is near marr'd 
 For Mariana, whom I most affect ; 
 But I must cast about by some device 
 To help myself, and to prevent the earl. 
 
 Bel. This fellow fitly comes to meet with me, 
 Who seems to be acquainted with the earl. 
 
 [Aside. 
 Good fortune guide you, sir ! 
 
 Clin. As much to you. 
 
 Bel. Might I entreat a favour at your hands? 
 
 Clin. What's that? 
 
 Bel. I am a stranger here in England, sir, 
 Brought from my native home upon report 
 That the earl's daughter wants the use of 
 
 speech ; 
 I have been practised in such cures ere now.
 
 Grim the Collier, Act I., Sc. 3 "3 
 
 And willingly would try my skill on her. 
 Let me request you so to favour me, 
 As to direct me to her father's house. 
 
 Clin. With all my heart, and welcome shall 
 you be [want ; 
 
 To that good earl, who mourns his daughter's 
 But they have for a holy abbot sent, 
 Who can, men say, do many miracles. 
 In hope that he will work this wondrous cure. 
 Bel. W^hate'er he be, I know 'tis past his 
 skill ; 
 Nor any in the world, beside myself, 
 Did ever sound the depth of that device. 
 
 Enter Musgrave. 
 Clin. Musgrave, well met ! I needs must 
 
 speak with you. 
 Mus. I came to seek you. 
 Clin. Tarry you a while. [before 
 
 [To Bel] Shall I entreat you, sir, to walk 
 With this same gentleman? I'll overtake you. 
 
 Exeunt Belphegor and Akercock. 
 This is the news : the Earl of Kent is come, 
 And in all haste the marriage must be made. 
 Your lady weeps, and knows not what to do; 
 But hopes that you will work some means or 
 
 other 
 To stop the cross-proceedings of the earl. 
 Mus. Alas, poor Clinton ! what can Mus- 
 grave do? 
 Unless I should by stealth convey her thence. 
 On which a thousand dangers do depend. 
 Clin. Well, to be brief, because I cannot 
 stay. 
 Thus stands the case : if you will promise me 
 To work your cousin Marian to be mine, 
 I'll so devise that you shall purchase her; 
 A. p. IV. I
 
 114 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. x. 
 
 And therefore, tell me if you like the match. 
 Mus. With all my heart, sir ; yea, and thank 
 you, too. [to me, 
 
 Clin. Then say no more, but leave the rest 
 For I have plotted how it shall be done. 
 I must go follow yon fair gentleman. 
 On whom I build my hopes. Musgrave, adieu ! 
 Mus. Clinton, farewell! I'll wish thee good 
 success. [^Exeunt. 
 
 ACT II., SCENE I. 
 
 Enter Morgan, Lacy, Dunstan, Forrest, 
 Honorea, Marian. 
 
 Mor. Thou holy man, to whom the higher 
 powers 
 Have given the gift of cures beyond conceit, 
 Welcome thou art unto Earl Morgan's house: 
 The house of sorrow yet, unless by thee 
 Our joys may spring anew ; which if they do, 
 Reward and praise shall both attend on thee. 
 
 Lacy. And we will ever reverence thy name. 
 Making the chronicles to speak thy praise : 
 So Honorea may but have her speech. 
 
 Dun. My lords, you know the hallow 'd gift 
 of tongues [breath : 
 
 Comes from the selfsame power that gives us 
 He binds and looseth them at his dispose ; 
 And in his name will Dunstan undertake 
 To work this cure upon fair Honorea. 
 Hang there, my harp, my solitary muse, 
 Companion of my contemplation ! 
 
 He hangs his harp on the wall. 
 And, lady, kneel with me upon the earth,
 
 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. i 115 
 
 That both our prayers may ascend to heaven. 
 
 They kneel down. Then enters Clinton, 
 with Belphegor, teryyiing hitnself Cas- 
 tiliano, and Akercock as Robin Good- 
 fellow. 
 Clin. So shall you do the lady a good turn, 
 And bind both him and me to you for ever. 
 
 [Aside.] 
 Bel. I have determin'd what I mean to do. 
 
 [Aside.] 
 Clin. Here be the earls, and with them is 
 
 the friar. [Aside. 
 
 Bel. What, is he praying? [Aside. 
 
 Clin. So methinks he is; [my lords ! 
 
 But I'll disturb him. [i45tde.] By your leave, 
 Here is a stranger from beyond the seas 
 Will undertake to cure your lordship's 
 daughter. 
 Mor. The holy abbot is about the cure. 
 Bel. Yea, but, my lord, he'll never finish 
 
 it. 
 Mor. How canst thou tell? What country- 
 man art thou? [born, 
 Bel. I am by birth, my lord, a Spaniard 
 And by descent came of a noble house; 
 Though for the love I bear to secret arts, 
 I never car'd to seek for vain estate. 
 Yet by my skill I have increas'd my wealth. 
 My name Castiliano, and my birth 
 No baser than the best blood of Castile. 
 Hearing your daughter's strange infirmity, 
 Join'd with such matchless beauty and rare 
 
 virtue, 
 I cross 'd the seas on purpose for her good. 
 Dun. Fond man, presuming on thy weaker 
 skill, 
 
 I 2
 
 ii6 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. i 
 
 That think'st by art to overrule the heavens ! 
 Thou know'st not what it is thou undertak'st. 
 No, no, my lord ! your daughter must be cur'd 
 By fasting, prayer, and religious works ; 
 Myself for her will sing a solemn mass. 
 And give her three sips of the holy chalice ; 
 And turn my beads with aves and with creeds : 
 And thus, my lord, your daughter must be 
 help'd. 
 Cas. Zounds ! what a prating keeps the 
 bald-pate friar ! 
 My lord, my lord ! here's church-work for an 
 
 age. 
 Tush I I will cure her in a minute's space, 
 That she shall speak as plain as you or I. 
 
 Dunstan's harp sounds on the wall. 
 For. Hark, hark, my lord ! the holy 
 abbot's harp 
 Sounds by itself so hanging on the wall ! 
 Dun. Unhallowed man ! that scorn *st the 
 sacred rede, 
 Hark how the testimony of my truth 
 Sounds heavenly music with an angel's hand, 
 To testify Dunstan's integrity, 
 And prove thy active boast of no effect. 
 
 Cas. Tush, sir ! that music was to welcome 
 me. 
 The harp hath got another master now ; 
 I warrant you, 'twill never tune you more. 
 Dun. Who should be master of my harp 
 but I? [you. 
 
 Cas. Try, then, what service it will do for 
 
 He [Dunstan] tries to play, hut cannot. 
 Dun. Thou art some sorcerer or necro- 
 mancer. 
 Who by thy spells dost hold these holy strings.
 
 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. i 117 
 
 Cos. Cannot your holiness unbind the 
 bonds? 
 Then, I perceive, my skill is most of force. 
 You see, my lord, the abbot is but weak; 
 I am the man must do your daughter good. 
 M^or. What wilt thou ask for to work thy 
 cure? 
 
 Cas. That without which I will not do tiie 
 cure : 
 Herself to be my wife, for which intent 
 I came from Spain. Then, if she shall be mine, 
 Say so, or keep her else for ever dumb. 
 
 Mor. The Earl of Kent, mine honourable 
 friend, 
 Hath to my daughter been a suitor long. 
 And much it would displease both her and him 
 To be prevented of their wished love. 
 Ask what thou wilt beside, and I will grant it. 
 Cas. Alas, my lord ! what should the crazy 
 earl 
 Do with so young a virgin as your daughter? 
 I dare stand to her choice 'twixt him and me. 
 Lacy. And I will pawn mine earldom with 
 my love, 
 And lose them both, if I lose Honorea. 
 
 Cas. A match, my lords ! We'll stand 
 
 unto the choice. 
 Mor. I am contented, if the earl be pleased. 
 Lacy. I were not worthy of her, did I doubt. 
 Cas. Then there it goes. Fetch me a bowl 
 of wine : 
 This is the match, my lord, before I work — 
 If she refuse the earl, she must be mine. 
 Mor. It is. 
 
 One hrinps him a cup of wine: he 
 strains the juice of the herb into it.
 
 ii8 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. I 
 
 Cas. Now shall your lordships see a 
 Spaniard's skill, 
 Who, from the plains of new America, 
 Can find out sacred simples of esteem 
 To bind and unbind nature's strong^est powers. 
 'Ihis herb, which mortal men have seldom 
 
 found. 
 Can I with ease procure me, when I list, 
 And by this juice shall Honorea speak. 
 Here, lady, drink the freedom of thy heart, 
 And may it teach thee long to call me love ! 
 
 [She drinks. 
 Now, lovely Honorea ! thou art free ; 
 Let thy celestial voice make choice of me. 
 
 [Honorea finds tons^ue.^ 
 
 Hon. Base alien ! mercenary fugitive ! 
 Presumptuous Spaniard ! that with shameless 
 
 pride 
 Dar'st ask an English lady for thy wife, 
 I scorn my slave should honour thee so much : 
 And, for myself, I like myself the worse 
 That thou dar'st hope the gaining of my love. 
 Go ! get thee gone ! the shame of my esteem. 
 And seek some drudge that may be like thy- 
 But as for you, good Earl of Kent, [self ! 
 
 Methinks your lordship, being of these years, 
 Should be past dreaming of a second wife. 
 Fy, fy, fy, my lord ! 'tis lust in doting age : 
 I will not patronise so foul a sin. 
 An old man dote on youth? 'tis monstrous! 
 Go home, go home, and rest your weary head ! 
 'Twere pity such a brow should learn to bud. 
 And lastly unto you, my lord and father, 
 Your love to me is too much overseen. 
 That in your care and counsel should devise 
 To tie your daughter's choice to two such 
 grooms.
 
 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. r 119 
 
 You may elect for me, but I'll dispose 
 And fit myself far better than both those; 
 And so I will conclude ; you, as you please. 
 
 [Exit Honorea in a chafe. 
 Aker. Call you this making of a woman 
 speak? 
 I think they all wish she were dumb again. 
 Cas. How now, my lord? what, are you in 
 a muse? [again. 
 
 Lacy. I would to God her tongue were tied 
 Cas. Ay, marry, sir! but that's another 
 thing, 
 The devil cannot tie a woman's tongue : 
 I would the friar could do that with his beads. 
 But 'tis no matter : you, my lord, have pro- 
 
 mis'd. 
 If she refuse the earl, she should be mine. 
 Mor. Win her, and wear her, man, with all 
 
 my heart ! 
 Cas. O, I'll haunt her till I make her stoop. 
 Come, come, my lord ! this was co try her 
 
 voice ; 
 Let's in and court her; one of us shall speed. 
 Aker. Happy man be his dole that misseth 
 
 her, say I. 
 Dun. My weaker senses cannot apprehend 
 The means this stranger us'd to make her 
 There is some secret mystery therein, [speak: 
 Conceal 'd from Dunstan, which the heavens 
 reveal [man 
 
 That I may scourge this bold, blaspheming 
 Who holds religious works of little worth ! 
 Exeunt : manent ('Union and Eorrcsi. 
 For. Now, Captain Clinton, what think you 
 of me? [well. 
 
 CUn. Methinks as yet the jest holds pretty
 
 |20 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. I 
 
 The one hath taug-ht her to deny himself : 
 The other vvoo'd so long-, he cannot speed. 
 
 For. This news will please young Mus- 
 
 Clin. Marry, will it ! [grave. 
 
 And I will hasten to acquaint him with them : 
 Come, let's away ! Exeunt. 
 
 Enter Parson Shorthose and Grim the 
 Collier. 
 
 Grim. No, Master Parson, grief hath made 
 my heart and me a pair of balance, as heavy 
 as lead. Every night I dream I am a town 
 top, and that I am whipped up and down with 
 the scourge-stick of love and the metal of 
 affection ; and when I wake, I find myself stark 
 naked, and as cold as a stone. Now judge 
 how I am tumbled and tossed ; poor Grim the 
 collier hath wished himself burnt up amongst 
 his coals. 
 
 Sho. O Grim ! be wise, dream not of love, 
 Thy sorrows cannot fancy move : 
 If Jug love thee, love her again ; 
 If not, thy kindness then refrain. 
 
 Grim. I am not skilled in your rhyming, 
 Master Parson ; but that which is bred in the 
 flesh will never come out of the bone. I have 
 seen as much as another man ; my travel should 
 teach me. There's never a day in the week 
 but I carry coals from Croydon to London ; 
 and now, when I rise in the morning to harness 
 my horses, and load my cart, methinks I have 
 a tailor sewing stitches m my heart ; when I 
 am driving my cart, my heart that wanders 
 one way, my eyes they leer another, my feet 
 they lead me, I know not whither, but now 
 and then into a slough over head and ears ; 
 so that poor Grim, that before was over shoes
 
 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. i 121 
 
 in love, is now over head and ears in dirt and 
 mire. 
 
 Sho. Well, Grim, my counsel shall suffice 
 To help thee; but in any wise 
 Be rul'd by me, and thou shalt see. 
 As thou lov'st her, she shall love thee. 
 
 Grim. A lard ! but do you think that will 
 be so? I should laugh till I tickle to see that 
 day, and forswear sleep all the next night after. 
 O Master Parson, I am so haltered in affection, 
 that I may tell you in secret (here's nobody 
 else hears me), I take no care how I fill 
 my sacks. Every time I come to London, my 
 coals are found faulty ; I have been five times 
 pilloried, my coals given to the poor, and my 
 sacks burnt before my face. It were a shame 
 to speak this, but truth will come to light. 
 
 Joan ! thou hast thrown the coal-dust of thy 
 love into my eyes, and stricken me quite blind. 
 
 Sho. Now, afore God, the collier chooseth 
 well ; 
 For beauty, Jug doth bear away the bell, 
 And 1 love her : then, collier, thou must miss. 
 For Parson Shorthose vows, Jug shall be his. 
 
 [Aside.] 
 But hear'st thou. Grim, I have that in my head. 
 To plot that how thou shalt the maiden wed. 
 
 Grim. But are you sure you have that in 
 your head? O, for a hammer to knock that 
 out ! one blow at your pate would lay all open 
 to me, and make me as wise as you. 
 
 Sho. Think 'st thou I do so often look 
 For nothing on my learned book. 
 As that I cannot work the feat? 
 
 1 warrant I'll the miller cheat, 
 And make Jug thine, in spite of him.
 
 122 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc I 
 
 Will this content thee, neighbour Grim? 
 
 Grim. Content me ! ay, and so highly that 
 if you do this feat for me, you hire me to you 
 as one hireth an ox or an ass : to use, to ride, 
 to spur, or anything; yours to demand, miser- 
 able Grim ! Joan's handmaid ! for so I have 
 called myself ever since last May-day, when 
 she gave me her hand to kiss. 
 
 Sho. Well, let's away; and in all haste 
 About it, ere the day be past ; 
 And ever after, if thou hast her, 
 Acknowledge me to be thy master. 
 
 Grim. I wool, sir : come, let's away. The 
 best drink in Croydon's yours; I have it for 
 you, even a dozen of jugs, to Jug's health. 
 
 Exeunt both. 
 Enter Earl Morgan, Earl Lacy, Marian. 
 
 Mor. My Lord of Kent, the latter motion 
 Doth bind me to you in a higher degree 
 Than all those many favours gone before : 
 And now the issue of my help relies 
 Only on Mariana's gentleness; 
 Who, if she will, in such a common good. 
 Put to her helping-hand, the match is made. 
 
 Lacy. You need not make a doubt of 
 Marian, 
 Whose love unto her lady were enough, 
 Besides her cousin's and her own consent, 
 To move her to a greater thing than this. 
 
 Mar. My lords, if aught there be in Marian 
 That may or pleasure you or profit her, 
 Ye shall not need to doubt of my consent. 
 
 Mor. Gramercy, Marian ! and indeed the 
 Is, in itself, a matter of no moment [thing 
 
 If it be weigh 'd aright; and therefore this :
 
 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. I 123 
 
 Thou know'st the bargain, 'twixt me and the 
 
 doctor 
 Concerning marriage with my only daughter, 
 Whom I determined that my Lord of Kent 
 Should have espoused : but I see her mind 
 Is only set upon thy cousin Musgrave, 
 And in her marriage to use constraint 
 Were bootless ; therefore thus we have de- 
 vised : 
 Lord Lacy is content to lose his part, 
 And to resign his title to young Musgrave; 
 But now the doctor will not yield his right. 
 Thus, wc determine to beguile his hopes ; 
 Thou shalt this night be brought unto his bed 
 Instead of her, and he shall marry thee : 
 Musgrave shall have my daughter, she her 
 
 will ; 
 And so shall all things sort to our content. 
 
 Lacy. And this thou shalt be sure of, 
 Marian, 
 The doctor's wealth will keep thee royally: 
 Besides, thou shalt be ever near thy friends, 
 That will not see thee wrong'd by any man. 
 Say then, wilt thou resolve to marry him? 
 
 Mar. My lords, you know I am but young : 
 The doctor's fit for one of riper years : 
 Yet, in regard of Honorca's good, 
 My cousin's profit, and all your consents, 
 I yield myself to be the doctor's wife. 
 
 Mor. 'Tis kindly spoken, gentle Marian. 
 
 Enter CasiiUano. 
 Rut here the doctor comes. 
 
 Lacy. Then I'll away, 
 Lest he suspect aught by my being here. 
 
 [Exit.
 
 124 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. i 
 
 Mor. Do ! and let me alone to close with 
 
 him. 
 Cas. May he ne'er speak that makes a 
 woman speak ! 
 She talks now, sure, for all the time that's 
 
 pass'd : 
 Her tongue is like a scarecrow in a tree 
 That clatters still with every puff of wind. 
 I have so haunted her from place to place : 
 About the hall, from thence into the parlour, 
 Up to the chamber, down into the garden, 
 And still she rails, and chafes, and scolds, 
 As if it were the sessions-day in hell. 
 Yet will I haunt her with an open mouth. 
 And never leave her till I force her love me. 
 Mor. Now, master doctor ; what, a match 
 
 or no? 
 Cas. A match, quoth you? I think the 
 devil himself 
 Cannot match her; for, if he could, I should. 
 
 {Aside.'] 
 Mor. Well, be content : 'tis I must work 
 the mean 
 To make her yield, whether she will or no. 
 My Lord of Kent is gone hence in a chafe. 
 And now I purpose that she shall be yours, 
 Yet to herself unknown ; for she shall think 
 That Musgrave is the man, but it shall be you,: 
 Seem you still discontented, and no more. 
 Go, Mariana, call thy mistress hither ! [know. 
 Now, when she comes, dissemble what you 
 And go away, as if you car'd not for her; 
 So will she the sooner be brought into it. 
 
 Exit Marian. 
 Cas. My lord, I thank you for your honest 
 And, as I may, will study to requite it. [care,
 
 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. i 125 
 
 Enter Honorea and Marian. 
 But here your daughter comes. No, no, my 
 
 lord ! 
 'Tis not her favour I regard, nor her; 
 Your promise 'tis I challenge, which I'll have : 
 It was my bargain, no man else should have 
 
 her. 
 Not that I love her, but I'll not be wrong'd 
 By any one, my lord ; and so I leave you. 
 
 Exit Castiliano. 
 
 Mor. He's passing cunning to deceive him- 
 But, all the better for the after-sport. [self — 
 
 Hon. Sir, did you send for me? 
 
 Mor. Honorea, for thee ; 
 And this it is. Howe'er unworthily 
 I have bestowed my love so long upon thee. 
 That wilt so manifestly contradict me, 
 Yet, that thou may'st perceive how I esteem 
 
 thee, 
 I make thyself the guardian of thy love, [thee. 
 That thine own fancy may make choice for 
 I have persuaded with my Lord of Kent 
 To leave to love thee : now the peevish doctor 
 Swears that his int'rest he will ne'er resign; 
 Therefore we must by policy deceive him. 
 He shall suppose he lieth this night with thee, 
 But Mariana shall supply thy room. 
 And thou with ^fusgrave in another chamber 
 Shalt secretly be lodg'd. When this is done, 
 'Twill be too late to call that back again : 
 So shait thou have thy mind, and he a wife. 
 
 Hon. But wilt thou, Mariana, yield to this? 
 
 Mar. For your sake, lady, I will undertake 
 it. [father ! 
 
 Hon. Gramercy, Marian, and my noble 
 Now I acknowledge that indeed you love me.
 
 126 Grim the Collier, Act II,, Sc. i 
 
 Mor. Well, no more words, but be you 
 both prepar'd : 
 The night draweth on, and I have sent in secret 
 For Musgrave, that he may be brought unseen, 
 To hide suspicion from their jealous eyes. 
 
 Hon. I warrant you ! Come, Marian ! let 
 us go. 
 
 •Exeunt Honorea and Marian. 
 
 Mor. And then my Lord of Kent shall be 
 my son. 
 Should I go wed my daughter to a boy? 
 No, no ! young girls must have their will re- 
 strained ; 
 For if the rule be theirs, all runs to nought. 
 
 Exit. 
 Enter Clack the Miller, with Joan. 
 
 Clack. Be not, Jug, as a man would say, 
 finer than fivepence, or that you are more 
 proud than a peacock ; that is, to seem to scorn 
 to call in at Clack's mill as you pass over the 
 bridge. There be as good wenches as you be 
 glad to pay me toll. 
 
 Joan. Like enough, Clack ; I had as lieve 
 they as I, and a great deal rather too. You, 
 that take toll of so many maids, shall never toll 
 me after you. O God ! what a dangerous thing 
 it is but to peep once into love ! I was never 
 so haunted with my harvest-work as I am with 
 love's passions. 
 
 Clack. Ay, but Joan, bear old proverbs in 
 your memory ; soft and fair — now, sir, if you 
 make too much haste to fall foul, ay, and that 
 upon a foul one too, there fades the flower of 
 all Croydon \aside]. Tell me but this : is not 
 Clack the miller as good a name as Grim the 
 collier?
 
 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. i 137 
 
 Joan. Alas ! I know no difference in names 
 to make a maid or choose or to refuse. 
 
 Clack. You were best to say, no, nor in 
 men neither. Well, I'll be sworn, I have; but 
 I have no reason to tell you so much, that care 
 so little for me [aside] : yet hark. Clack 
 speakeih in ker ear. 
 
 Enter Grim and Parson Shorthose. 
 
 Grim. O Master Parson, there he stands 
 like a scarecrow, to drive me away from her 
 that sticks as close to my heart as my shirt 
 to my back, or my hose to my heel. O Master 
 Parson Shorthose, Grim is but a man as 
 another man is : colliers have but lives, as other 
 men have. All's ^one if she go from me: 
 Grim is nobody without her. My heart is in 
 my mouth ; my mouth is in my hand ; my hand 
 threatens vengeance against the miller, as it 
 were a beadle with a whip in his hand, triumph- 
 ing o'er a beggar's back ! 
 
 Sho. Be silent. Grim; stand close, and see; 
 So shall we know how all things be. 
 
 Grim. In wisdom I am appeased ; but in 
 anger I broil, as it were a rasher upon the 
 coals. 
 
 Joan. I'll not despise the trades ye either 
 have ; 
 Yet Grim the collier may, if he be wise, 
 Live even as merry as the day is long ; 
 For, in my judgment, in his mean estate 
 Consists as much content as in more wealth. 
 
 Grim. O Master Parson, write down this 
 sweet saying of her in Grim's commendations. 
 She hath made my heart leap like a hobby- 
 horse ! O Joan, this speech of thine will I 
 carry with me even to my grave.
 
 128 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. i 
 
 Sho. Be silent, then. 
 
 Clack. Well, then, I perceive you mean to 
 lead your life in a coalpit, like one of the devil's 
 drudg^es, and have your face look like the out- 
 ward side of an old iron pot or a blacking-box. 
 Grim. He calleth my trade into question ! I 
 cannot forbear him. [Grim, 
 
 Sho. Nay, then you spoil all : neighbour 
 I warrant you, she will answer him. [show 
 
 Joan. What I intend, I am not bound to 
 To thee, nor any other but my mother, 
 To whom in duty I submit myself : 
 Yet this I tell thee, though my birth be mean. 
 My honest virtuous life shall help to mend it ; 
 And if I marry any in all this life. 
 He shall say boldly he hath an honest wife. 
 
 Grim. O that it were my fortune to light 
 upon her, on condition my horses were dead, 
 and my cart broken, and I bound to carry 
 coals, as long as I live, from Croydon to 
 London on my bare shoulders ! Master Parson, 
 the flesh is frail ; he shall tempt her no longer. 
 She is but weak, and he is the stronger. I'll 
 upon him. Miller, thou art my neighbour, and 
 therein charity holds my hands; but methinks 
 you, having a water-gap of your own, you may 
 do as other millers do, grind your grist at 
 home, knock your cogs into your own mill; 
 you shall not cog with her. 
 
 She doth descry thee; 
 
 And I defy thee 
 
 To a mortal fight ; 
 
 And so, miller, good night. 
 
 And now, sweet Joan, 
 
 Be it openly known 
 
 Thou art my own.
 
 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. i 129 
 
 Clack. Well, Grim, since thou art so collier- 
 like choleric — 
 
 Grim. Miller, I will not be mealy-mouth 'd. 
 
 Clack. I'll give thee the fewer words now 
 because the next time we meet I'll pay thee all 
 in dry blows. Carry coals at a collier's hands ! 
 if I do, let my mill be drowned up in water, 
 and I hanged in the roof. 
 
 Joan. And if thou lov'st me, Grim, forbear 
 him now. 
 
 Grim. If I love thee ! dost thou doubt of 
 that? nay, rip me up, and look into my heart, 
 and thou shalt see thy own face pictured there 
 as plainly as in the proudest looking-glass in all 
 Croydon. If I love thee ! then, tears, gush 
 out, and show my love ! 
 
 Clack. What, Master Parson, are you there? 
 You remember you promised to win Joan for 
 my own wearing? [gone; 
 
 Sho. I warrant thee. Clack, but now be- 
 Leave me to work that here alone. 
 
 Clack. Well, farewell, Master Shorthose ; 
 be true when you are trusted. 
 
 Exit Clack. 
 
 Sho. She shall be neither his nor thine, 
 For I intend to make her mine. 
 
 Grim. If I love thee, Joan ! Those very 
 words are a purgation to me. You shall see 
 desperation in my face, and death marching in 
 my very countenance. If I love ! 
 
 Sho. What, Grim, hath grief drown'd thee 
 at last? 
 Are all thy joys overcast? 
 Is Joan in place, and thou so sad ! 
 Hfr presence, man, should make thee glad. 
 
 A. p. IV. K
 
 130 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. i 
 
 Joan. Good Master Parson, 'twas no fault 
 of mine ; 
 He takes occasion where there none was given. 
 I will not blab unto the world my love 
 I owe to him, and shall do whilst I live. 
 
 [Aside.] 
 
 Grim. Well, Joan, without all ifs or ands, 
 e-persese, a-persese, or tittle-tattles in the 
 world, I do love thee; and so much that in thy 
 absence I cry when I see thee, and rejoice with 
 my very heart when I cannot behold thee. 
 
 Sho. No doubt, no doubt ! thou lov'st her 
 But listen now to what I tell : [well, 
 
 Since ye are both so well agreed, 
 I wish you make more haste and speed. 
 To-morrow is Holy-rood day. 
 When all a-nutting take their way ; 
 Within the wood a close doth stand. 
 Encompass 'd round on either hand 
 With trees and bushes ; there will I 
 Despatch your marriage presently. 
 
 Grim. O Master Parson, your devising pate 
 hath blessed me for ever. Joan, we'll have 
 that so : the shorter the work the sweeter. 
 
 Joan. And if my mother give but her con- 
 My absence shall in no case hinder it. [sent, 
 
 Grim. She, quotha? she is mine already; 
 we'll to her presently. Master Parson, 'tis a 
 match ; we'll meet you. Now, miller, do I go 
 beyond you? I have stripped him of the wench, 
 as a cook would strip an eel out of her skin, 
 or a pudding out of the case thereof. Now I 
 talk of a pudding, O, 'tis my only food, I am 
 an old dog at it. Come, Joan, let us away; 
 I'll pudding you. 
 
 Sho. Well, if my fortune luckily ensue.
 
 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc i 131 
 
 As you shall cosen him, I'll cosen you. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 Enter Castiliano at one door with 
 Marian, Earl Lacy at another door 
 with Honorea. 
 Cas. Come, lovely Honorea, bright as day. 
 As came Alcmena from her sacred bed 
 With Jupiter, shap'd like Amphitrion, 
 So show my love. 
 
 Hon. • My love! whom have we here? 
 Sweet Musgrave ! but, alas, I am betrayed ! 
 Cas. Thou art my love. 
 Lacy. No, mine. 
 
 Hon. Nor yours, nor yours; [thou? 
 
 But Musgrave's love. O Musgrave ! where art 
 
 Lacy. Be not displeas'd, my dear; give me 
 
 thy hand. 
 Hon. My hand, false earl ! nor hand nor 
 heart of mine ! 
 Couldst thou thus cunningly deceive my hopes? 
 And could my father give consent thereto? 
 Well, neither he nor thou shalt force my love. 
 
 Cas. 'Tis I, fair Honorea, am thy love: 
 Forsake the worthless earl, give me thy hand. 
 Mar. Whose hand would you have, sir? 
 this hand is mine, [own : 
 
 And mine is yours : then keep you to your 
 Yet are you mine, sir, and I mean to keep you. 
 What ! do you think to shake me off so soon? 
 No, gentle husband, now it is too late; 
 You should have look'd before you came to 
 bed. 
 
 Enter Robin Goodfellow with his 
 master's gown. 
 Rob. Many good-morrows to my gentle 
 master 
 
 K 2
 
 132 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. i 
 
 And my new mistress ; God give you both joy I 
 
 What say you to your gown, sir, this cold 
 
 morning? 
 
 Cas. Robin, I am undone, and cast away ! 
 
 [i?ob.] How, master, cast away upon a 
 
 wife? 
 
 Cas. Yea, Robin, cast away upon a wife. 
 
 Rob. Cast her away then, master, can you 
 
 not? [it. 
 
 Mar. No, sir, he cannot, nor he shall not do 
 
 Rob. Why, how know you? I am sure you 
 
 are not she. [falls. 
 
 Mar. Yes, sir, I am your mistress, as it 
 
 Rob. As it falls, quoth ye? marry, a foul 
 
 fall is it. [foul ? 
 
 Mar. Base rascal, dost thou say that I am 
 
 Rob. No, it was foul play for him to fall 
 
 upon you. 
 Mar. How know you that he fell? were you 
 so nigh? 
 
 She giveth Robin a box on the ear. 
 Rob. Mass, it should seem it was he that 
 fell, if any, 
 For you (methinks) are of a mounting nature : 
 What, at my ears at first? a good beginning. 
 Lacy. My dear delight, why dost thou 
 stain thy cheeks, 
 Those rosy beds, with this unseemly dew? 
 Shake off those tears, that now untimely fall. 
 And smile on me, that am thy summer's joy. 
 
 Hon. Hapless am I to lose so sweet a 
 Thus to obtain a weary liberty. [prison, 
 
 Happy had I been so to have remain'd. 
 Of which estate I ne'er should have com- 
 plain'd. 
 Rob. Whoop, whoo ! more marriages ! and 
 all of a sort. Happy are they, I see, that live
 
 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. i 133 
 
 without them : if this be the beginning, what 
 will be the ending? 
 
 Enter Earl Morgan and Dunstan. 
 Mor. Look, Dunstan, where they be; dis- 
 pleas'd, no doubt ; 
 Try if thou canst work reconciliation. 
 
 Cas. My lord, I challenge you of breach of 
 promise, 
 And claim your daughter here to be my wife. 
 Lacy. Your claim is nought, sir; she is 
 mine already. [of yours. 
 
 Hon. Your claim is nought, sir ; I am none 
 Mar. Your claim is here, sir; Marian is 
 yours. 
 What, husband ! newly married and incon- 
 stant? 
 'Greed we so well together all this night, 
 And must we now fall out? for shame, for 
 
 shame ! 
 A man of your years, and be so unstay'd ! 
 Come, come away ! there may no other be; 
 I will have you, therefore you shall have me. 
 Rob. This is the bravest country in the 
 world, 
 Where men get wives whether they will or no : 
 I trow ere long some wench will challenge me. 
 Cas. O, is not this a goodly consequence? 
 I must have her because she will have me ! 
 Dun. Ladies and gentlemen, hear Dunstan 
 speak. 
 Marriage, no doubt, is ordain 'd by providence, 
 Is sacred, not to be by vain affect 
 Turn'd to the idle humours of men's brains. 
 Besides, for you, my lady Honorea, 
 Your duty binds you to obey your father 
 Who better knows what fits you than yourself; 
 And 'twere in you great folly to neglect
 
 134 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. i 
 
 The earl's great love, whereof you are un- 
 worthy, 
 Should you but seem offended with the match. 
 Therefore submit yourself to make amends. 
 For 'tis your fault ; so may you all be friends. 
 Mor. And, daughter, you must think what 
 I have done 
 Was for your good, to wed you to the earl, 
 Who will maintain and love you royally : 
 For what had Musgrave but his idle shape? 
 A shadow to the substances you must build on. 
 Rob. She will build substance on him, I 
 trow : 
 Who keeps a shrew against her will, had better 
 let her go. [/45tde.] 
 
 Mar. Madam, conceal your grief, and seem 
 content ; 
 For, as it is, you must be rul'd per force : 
 Dissemble, till convenient time may serve 
 To think on this despite and Musgrave 's love. 
 
 [Aside.] 
 
 Lacy. Tell me, my dear, wilt thou at length 
 
 be pleased? [eas'd; 
 
 Hon. As good be pleas'd, my lord, as not be 
 
 Yet though my former love did move me 
 
 much, 
 Think not amiss, the same love may be yours. 
 Cas. What ! is it a match? nay then, since 
 you agree, 
 I cannot mend myself, for aught I see ; 
 And therefore 'tis as good to be content. 
 Come, lady, 'tis your lot to be my dame. 
 Lordings, adieu ! God send you all good speed ! 
 Some have their wives for pleasure, some for 
 need. 
 Lacy. Adieu, Castiliano ! are we friends?
 
 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. i 135 
 
 Cas. Yes, yes, my lord, there is no remedy. 
 
 Rob. No remedy, my masters, for a wife? 
 A note for young beginners : mark it well ! 
 
 Exeunt. 
 Enter Forrest, Captain Clinton, Harvey. 
 
 For. Now, gallants, what imagine you of 
 Our noses are all slit; for Mariana, [this? 
 
 The Spanish doctor hath her to his wife. 
 And Musgrave's hopes are dead for Honorea, 
 For she is married to the Earl of Kent, [rise 
 'Twill be good sport to see them when they 
 If so they be not gotten up already. [me. 
 
 Clin. I say the devil go with them all for 
 The Spanish doctor marry Marian ! 
 I think that slave was born to cross me still. 
 Had it not been last day before the earl, 
 Upon my conscience, I had crack 'd his crown 
 When first he ask'd the lady for his wife; 
 Now he hath got her too, whom I desir'd. 
 Why, he'll away with her ere long to Spain, 
 And keep her there to dispossess our hopes. 
 
 For. No, I can comfort you for that sup- 
 pose : 
 For yesterday he hir'd a dwelling-house. 
 And here he means to tarry all this year; 
 So long at least, whate'er he doth hereafter. 
 
 Clin. .\ sudden plot-form comes into my 
 mind, 
 And this it is. Miles Forrest, thou and I 
 Are partly well acquainted with the doctor. 
 Ralph Harvey shall along with us to him; 
 Him we'll prefer for his apothecary. 
 Now, sir, when Ralph and he are once ac- 
 quainted, 
 His wife may often come unto his house, 
 Either to see his garden, or such like :
 
 136 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. i 
 
 For, doubt not, women will have means 
 
 enough 
 If they be willing, as I hope she will. 
 There may we meet her, and let each one 
 
 plead : 
 He that speeds best, why let him carry it. 
 For. I needs must laugh to think how all 
 
 we three. 
 In the contriving of this feat, agree : 
 But, having got her, every man will strive 
 How each may other of her love deprive. 
 Clin. Tut, Forrest ! love admits these 
 
 friendly strifes ; 
 But say, how like you of my late device? 
 For. Surpassing well, but let's about it 
 
 straight 
 Lest he before our coming be provided. 
 Clin. Agreed ! Exeunt. 
 
 Enter Musgrave and Marian. 
 Mus. Tush, cousin ! tell not me ; but this 
 
 device 
 Was long ago concluded 'twixt you two, 
 ^Vh^ch divers reasons move me to imagine : 
 And therefore these are toys to blind my eyes. 
 To make me think she only loved me. 
 And yet is married to another man. [so blind 
 Mar. Why, cousin Musgrave, are your eyes 
 You cannot see the truth of that report? 
 Did you not know my lord was always bent, 
 Whatever came, to wed her to the earl? 
 And have you not, besides, heard the device 
 He us'd to marry her against her will? 
 Betray'd, poor soul, unto Earl Lacy's bed, 
 She thought she held young Musgrave in her 
 
 arms ! 
 Her morning tears might testify her thoughts ;
 
 Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. i 137 
 
 Yet thou shalt see she loves thee more than 
 
 him, 
 And thou shalt taste the sweets of her delights. 
 Meantime, my house shall be thy mansion 
 And thy abode, for thither will she come : 
 Use thou that opportunity, and try 
 Whether she lov'd thee, or did but dissemble. 
 Mus. If she continue kind to me hereafter, 
 I shall imagine well of her and you. 
 
 Enter Castiliano. 
 Cas. Now, dame, in talk, what gentleman 
 
 is this? 
 Mar. My cousin Musgrave, husband, comes 
 to see you. [welcome ! 
 
 Cas. Musgrave, now, on my faith, heartily 
 Give me thy hand, my cousin and my friend, 
 My partner in the loss of Honorea ; [like : 
 
 We two must needs be friends : our fortune's 
 Marry ! yet I am richer by a shrew. [sheep ; 
 
 Mar. 'Tis better to be a shrew, sir, than a 
 You have no cause, I hope, yet to complain? 
 Cas. No, dame; for yet you know 'tis 
 honeymoon. [ance. 
 
 What ! we have scarcely settled our acquaint- 
 Mus. I doubt not, cousin, but ye shall agree. 
 For she is mild enough, if she be pleas'd. 
 Cas. So is the devil, they say [aside] : yea, 
 cousin, yea. 
 My dear and I, I doubt not, shall agree. 
 
 Enter Robin Goodfellow. 
 Rob. Sir, here be two or three gentlemen 
 at the door 
 Would gladly speak a word with your worship. 
 
 Enter Clinton, Forrest, Harvey. 
 They need no bidding, mcthinks : they can come 
 alone !
 
 13S Grim the Collier, Act II., Sc. i 
 
 Clin. God save you, Signior Castiliano. 
 Cas. O captain, come sta? welcome all, my 
 friends ! [joy> 
 
 For. Sir, we are come to bid God give you 
 And see your house. 
 
 Mar. Welcome, gentlemen ! 
 'Tis kindly done to come to see us here. 
 Rob. This kindness makes me fear my 
 master's head : [get it. 
 
 Such hotspurs must have game, howe'er they 
 Clin. We have a suit to you, Castiliano. 
 Cas. What is it, sir? if it lies in me, 'tis 
 
 done. 
 Clin. Nay, but a trifle, sir, and that is : 
 This same young man, by trade apothecary, 
 Is willing to retain unto your cures. [too ! 
 
 Cas. Marry, with all my heart, and welcome 
 What may I call your name, my honest friend? 
 Har. Ralph Harvey, sir; your neighbour 
 here hard by. 
 The Golden Lion is my dwelling-place, 
 Where what you please shall be with care 
 p>erform'd. [friends! 
 
 Cas. Gramercies, Harvey ! welcome, all my 
 Let's in, and handsel our new mansion-house 
 With a carousing round of Spanish wine. 
 Come, cousin Musgrave, you shall be my guest ; 
 My dame, I trow, will welcome you herself. 
 Mar. No, boy. Lord Lacy's wife shall 
 welcome thee. [cheer toward ; 
 
 Rob. So now the game begins, here's some 
 I must be skinker then : let me alone ; 
 They all shall want ere Robin shall have none. 
 Exeunt omnes nisi Clinton and Harvey. 
 Clin. Sirrah Ralph Harvey, now the entry 
 is made,
 
 Grim the Collier, Act III., Sc. i I39 
 
 Thou only hast access without suspect. 
 Be not forgetful of thy agent here ; 
 Remember Clinton was the man that did it. 
 
 Har. Why, captain, now you talk in 
 jealousy. 
 Do not misconstrue my true-meaning heart. 
 
 Clin. Ralph, I believe thee, and rely on 
 thee. 
 Do not too long absent thee from the doctor : 
 Go in, carouse, and taint his Spanish brain; 
 I'll follow, and my Marian's health maintain. 
 
 Har. Captain, you well advise me; I'll go 
 
 And for myself my love-suits I'll begin. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
 ACT III., SCENE I. 
 
 Enter Rohin Goodjellow with his head 
 broken. 
 
 Rob. The devil himself take all such dames 
 for me ! 
 Zounds ! I had rather be in hell than here. 
 Nay, let him be his own man, if he list, 
 Robin means not to stay to be us'd thus. 
 The very first day, in her angry spleen, 
 Her nimble hand began to greet my ears 
 With such unkind salutes as I ne'er felt; 
 And since that time there hath not pass'd an 
 
 hour 
 Wherein she hath not either rail'd upon me, 
 Or laid her anger's load upon my limbs. 
 Even now (for no occasion in the world, 
 But as it pleas'd her ladyship to take it)
 
 I40 Grim the Collier, Act III., Sc. i 
 
 She crat me up a staff, and breaks my head. 
 But I'll no longer serve so curs'd a dame; 
 I'll run as far first as my legs will bear me. 
 What shall I do? to hell I dare not go 
 Until my master's twelve months be expir'd, 
 And here to stay with Mistress Marian — 
 Better to be so long in purgatory. [ill ! 
 
 Now, farewell, master ! but, shrewd dame, fare- 
 ril leave you, though the devil is with you still. 
 
 Exit Robin. 
 Enter Marian alone, chafing. 
 
 Mar. My heart still pants within ; I am so 
 chaf'd ! 
 The rascal slave, my man, that sneaking rogue, 
 Had like to have undone us all for ever ! 
 My cousin Musgrave is with Honorea, 
 Set in an arbour in the summer-garden ; 
 And he, forsooth ! must needs go in for herbs, 
 And told me further, that his master bade him : 
 But I laid hold upon my younker's pate. 
 And make the blood run down about his ears. 
 I trow, he shall ask me leave ere he go. 
 Now is my cousin master of his love. 
 The lady at one time reveng'd and pleas'd. 
 So speed they all that marry maids perforce ! 
 
 Enter Castiliano. 
 But here my husband comes. 
 
 Cas. What, dame, alone? [pany. 
 
 Mar. Yes, sir, this once — for want of com- 
 
 Cas. Why, where's my lady and my cousin 
 Musgrave? [I know. 
 
 Mar. You may go look them both for aught 
 
 Cas. What, are you angry, dame? 
 
 Mar. Yea, so it seems. 
 
 Cas. What is the cause, I prythee? 
 
 Mar. Why would you know?
 
 Grim the Collier, Act III., Sc. i 141 
 
 Cas. That I might ease it, if it lay in me. 
 
 Mar. O, but it belongs not to your trade. 
 
 Cas. You know not that. [leave you. 
 
 Mar. I know you love to prate, and so I 
 
 Exit Marian. 
 
 Cas. Well, go thy way : oft have I raked 
 To get a wife, yet never found her like, [hell 
 Why, this it is to marry with a shrew. 
 Yet if it be, as I presume it is. 
 There's but one thing offends both her and me; 
 And I am glad, if that be it offends her. 
 'Tis so, no doubt ; I read it in her brow. 
 Lord Lacy shall with all my heart enjoy 
 Fair Honorea : Marian is mine ; 
 Who, though she be a shrew, yet is she honest. 
 So is not Honorea, for even now. 
 Walking within my garden all alone, 
 She came with Musgrave, stealing closely by. 
 And follows him, that seeks to fly from her. 
 I spied this all unseen, and left them there. 
 But sure my dame hath some conceit thereof, 
 And therefore she is thus angry, honest soul ! 
 Well, I'll straight hence unto my Lord of Kent, 
 And warn him watch his wife from these close 
 
 meetings. 
 Well, Marian, thou liv'st yet free from blame. 
 Let ladies go; thou art the devil's dame. 
 
 Exit Castiliano. 
 Enter the Devil, like Musgrave, with 
 Honorea. 
 
 Mus. No, lady; let thy modest, virtuous 
 Be always joined with thy comely shape, [life 
 For lust eclipseth nature's ornament. 
 
 Hon. Young heady boy, think'st thou thou 
 
 shalt recall [sworn, 
 
 Thy long-made love, which thou so oft hast
 
 142 Grim the Collier, Act III., Sc. i 
 
 Making my maiden thoughts to dote on thee? 
 
 Mus. With patience hear me, and, if what 
 I say [me. 
 
 Shall jump with reason, then you'll pardon 
 The time hath been when my soul's liberty 
 V^ow'd servitude unto that heavenly face. 
 Whilst both had equal liberty of choice ; 
 But since the holy bond of marriage 
 Hath left me single, you a wedded wife. 
 Let me not be the third unlawfully 
 To do Earl Lacy so foul injury. 
 But now at last 
 
 Hon. I would that last 
 Might be thy last, thou monster of all men ! 
 
 Mus. Hear me with patience. 
 
 Hon. Cease: I'll hear no more! 
 'Tis my affection, and not reason, speaks : 
 Then, Musgrave, turn the hardness of thy 
 
 heart, 
 And now at least incline thy love to mine. 
 
 Mus. Nay, now I see thou wilt not be re- 
 claim 'd. 
 Go and bestow this hot love on the earl ; 
 Let not these loose affects thus scandalise 
 Your fair report. Go home, and learn to live 
 As chaste as Lucrece, madam ! So I leave 
 you. She pulleth him back. 
 
 Hon. O, stay a little while, and hear my 
 tongue 
 Speak my heart's words, which cannot choose 
 
 but tell thee, 
 I hate the earl only because I love thee. 
 
 Exit Musgrave. 
 Musgrave, return ! hear, Honorea speaks ! 
 Disdain hath left him wings to fly from me ! 
 Sweet love, lend me thy wings to overtake him,
 
 Grim the Collier, Act III., Sc. i i43 
 
 For I can stay him with kind dalliance ! 
 All this is but the blindness of my fancy. 
 Recall thyself : let not thy honour bleed 
 With the foul wounds of infamy and shame. 
 My proper home shall call me home again, 
 Where my dear lord bewails, as much as I, 
 His too much love to her that loves not him. 
 Let none hereafter fix her maiden love 
 Too firm on any, lest she feel with me 
 Musgrave's revolt and his inconstancy. 
 
 Exit. 
 Enter Forrest, with Marian. 
 For. Tut! I'll remember thee, and straight 
 But here's the doctor. [return : 
 
 Mar. Where? Forrest, farewell! 
 I would not have him see me for a world. 
 For. Why? he is not here. Well, now I 
 see you fear him. [alarm ! 
 
 Mar. Marry, beshrew thee for thy false 
 I fear him? no, I neither fear nor love him. 
 For. But where's my lady? She is gone 
 home before. 
 And I must follow after. Marian, farewell ! 
 Mar. I shall expect your coming. 
 
 For. Presently ; [so 
 
 And hearest thou, Marian? nay, it shall be 
 
 He whispers in her ear. 
 Mar. O Lord, sir, you are wed, I warrant 
 you : 
 We'll laugh, be merry, and, it may be, kiss; 
 But if you look for more, you aim amiss. 
 For. Go to, go to ! we'll talk of this anon. 
 
 Exit Forrest. 
 Mar. Well, go thy way, for the true- 
 heartedst man 
 That liveth, and as full of honesty,
 
 144 Grim the Collier, Act III., Sc. I 
 
 And yet as wanton as a pretty lamb. 
 He'll come again, for he hath lov'd me long, 
 And so have many more besides himself; 
 But I was coy and proud, as maids are wont, 
 Meaning to match beyond my mean estate : 
 Yet I have favour'd youths and youthful sports, 
 Although I durst not venture on the main ; 
 But now it will not be so soon espied. 
 Maids cannot, but a wife a fault may hide. 
 
 Enter Nan. 
 What, Nan! 
 
 Nan. Anon, forsooth ! 
 
 Mar. Come hither, maid ! 
 Here, take my keys, and fetch the galley-pot; 
 Bring a fair napkin and some fruit-dishes ! 
 Despatch, and make all ready presently ; 
 Miles Forrest will come straight to drink with 
 me. 
 
 Nan. I will, forsooth ! Exit Nan. 
 
 Mar. Why am I young, but to enjoy my 
 years? 
 Why am I fair, but that I should be lov'd? 
 And why should I be lov'd, and not love others? 
 Tut ! she is a fool that her affection smothers : 
 'Twas not for love I was the doctor's wife, 
 Nor did he love me, when he first was mine. 
 Tush, tush ! this wife is but an idle name ! 
 I purpose now to try another game. 
 Art thou return 'd so soon? O, 'tis well done. 
 
 Enter Nan with the banquet. 
 And hear'st thou. Nan? when Forrest shall 
 If any happen to inquire for me, [return, 
 
 Whether't be Captain Clinton or Ralph 
 
 Harvey, 
 Call presently, and say, thy master's come; 
 So I'll send Forrest o'er the garden pale.
 
 Grim the Collier, Act III., Sc. i MS 
 
 Nan. I will, forsooth ! [banquet ready. 
 
 Mar. Meantime, stay thou and make our 
 I'll to my closet, and be here again 
 Before Miles Forrest shall come visit me. 
 
 Exit Marian. 
 
 Nan. I wonder what my mistress is about? 
 Somewhat she would not have my master 
 \\'hate'er it be, 'tis nothing unto me; [know: 
 She's my good mistress, and I'll keep her 
 
 counsel. 
 I have oft seen her kiss behind his back, 
 And laugh and toy, when he did little think it. 
 O, what a winking eye the wanton hath 
 To cosen him, even when he looks upon her ! 
 But what have I to do with what she doth? 
 I'll taste her junkets since I am alone: 
 That which is good for them cannot hurt me. 
 Ay, marry, this is sweet ! a cup of wine 
 Will not be hurtful for digestion. 
 
 She drinks. 
 Enter Castiliano. 
 
 Cas. I would I had been wiser once to-day ; 
 I went on purpose to my Lord of Kent 
 To give him some good counsel for his wife, 
 And he, poor heart, no sooner heard my news, 
 But turns me up his whites, and falls flat down : 
 There I was fain to rub and chafe his veins. 
 And much ado we had to get him live. 
 But for all that he is extremely sick, 
 And I am come in all the haste I may 
 For cordials to keep the earl alive. 
 But how now? What, a banquet? What 
 means this? 
 
 Nan. Alas ! my master is come home 
 himself. 
 Mistress, mistress ! my master is come home ! 
 
 A. p. IV. L
 
 146 Grim the Collier, Act III., Sc. i 
 
 Cas. Peace, you young strumpet, or I'll 
 
 stop your speech ! He stops her mouth. 
 
 Come hither, maid ! tell me, and tell me true, 
 
 What means this banquet? what's your 
 
 mistress doings? [coming? 
 
 Why call'dsl ihou out, whenas thou saw'st me 
 
 Tell me, or else I'll hang thee by the heels, 
 
 And whip thee naked. Come on, what's the 
 
 Nan. Forsooth, I cannot tell. [matter? 
 
 Cas. Can you not tell? come on, I'll make 
 
 you tell me. 
 Nan. O master ! I will tell you. 
 Cas. Then say on. 
 
 Nan. Nothing, in truth, forsooth, but that 
 she means 
 To have a gentleman come drink with her. 
 Cas. What gentleman? [think. 
 
 Nan. Forsooth ! 'tis Master Forrest, as I 
 Cas. Forrest? nay then I know how the 
 game goeth : 
 Whoever loseth, I am sure to win [horns. 
 
 By their great kindness, though 't be but the 
 Enter Forrest at one door, Marian at 
 another. 
 But here comes he and she. Come hither, 
 Upon thy life, give not a word, a look, [maid ! 
 That she may know aught of my being here. 
 Stand still, and do whate'er she bids thee do. 
 Go, get thee gone ! but if thou dost betray me, 
 I'll cut thy throat : look to it, for I will do it. 
 I'll stand here close to see the end of this. 
 And see what rakes she keeps, when I'm 
 abroad. 
 
 Castiliano conceals himself. 
 Mar. 'Tis kindly done. Miles, to return so 
 soon,
 
 Grim the Collier, Act III., Sc. i 147 
 
 And so I take it. Nan, is our banquet ready? 
 
 Welcome, my love ! I see you'll keep your 
 
 word. [kept it. 
 
 Nan. 'Twere better for you both he had not 
 
 [Aside.] 
 For. Yea, Mariana, else I were unworthy. 
 I did but bringf my lady to the door, 
 And there I left her full of melancholy, 
 And discontented. 
 
 Mar. Why, 'twas kindly done. 
 Come, come sit down, and let us laugh awhile : 
 Maid, fill some wine ! 
 
 Nan. Alas ! my breech makes buttons, 
 And so would theirs, knew they as much as I. 
 He may change the sweetmeats, and put 
 Purging comfits in the dishes. [Musgrave. 
 
 Mar. Here's to my lady and my cousin 
 For. I pray, remember gentle master doctor 
 And good Earl Lacy too, among the rest. 
 Cas. O sir, we find you kind — we thank 
 you for it : 
 The time may come when we may cry you quit. 
 
 [Aside.] 
 Nan. Master, shall I steal you a cup of 
 
 wine? [i45t(ie.] 
 
 Cas. Away, you baggage ! hold your peace, 
 
 you wretch ! [/45ide.] 
 
 For. But I had rather walk into your 
 orchard. 
 And sec your gallery so much commended ; 
 To view the workmanship he brought from 
 
 Spain 
 Wherein 's described the banquet of the gods. 
 
 Mar. Ay, there's one piece exceeding lively 
 Where Mars and Venus lie within a net, [done; 
 Enclos'd by Vulcan, and he looking on. 
 
 L 2
 
 148 Grim the Collier, Act III., Sc. i 
 
 Cas. Better and better yet : 'twill mend 
 
 anon. 
 Mar. Another of Diana with her nymphs, 
 Bathing their naked bodies in the streams ; 
 Where fond Acteon, for his eyes' offence, 
 Is turn'd into a hart's shape, horns and all : 
 And this the doctor hangs right o'er his bed. 
 For. Those horns may fall and light upon 
 his head. [remedy? 
 
 Cas. And if thev do, worse luck ! What 
 
 [Aside.] 
 For. Nay, Marian, we'll not leave these 
 sights unseen ; 
 And then we'll see your orchard and your fruit, 
 For now there hang queen apples on the trees. 
 And one of them is worth a score of these. 
 Mar. Well, you shall see them, lest you 
 lose your longing. 
 
 Exeunt Marian and Forrest. 
 Cas. Nay, if ye fall a-longing for green 
 Child-bearing is not far off, I am sure, [fruit. 
 Why, this is excellent : I feel the buds ! 
 My head groweth hard : my horns will shortly 
 
 spring ! 
 Now, who may lead the cuckold's dance but I, 
 That am become the headman of the parish? 
 O, this it is to have an honest wife. 
 Of whom so much I boasted once to-day. 
 Come hither, minx ! you know your mistress' 
 And you keep secret all her villanies : [mind, 
 Tell me, you were best, where was this plot de- 
 vised ? 
 How did these villains know I was abroad? 
 Nan. Indeed, forsooth ! I know not when it 
 was. 
 My mistress call'd me from my work of late, 
 And had me lay a napkin : so I did,
 
 Grim the Collier, Act III., Sc. i 149 
 
 And made this banquet ready; but in truth 
 
 I knew not what she did intend to do. [came, 
 
 Cas. No, no, you did not watch against I 
 To give her warning to despatch her knaves ! 
 You cried not out whenas you saw me come ! 
 All this is nothing; but I'll rouse you all. 
 
 Nan. In truth, good master ! 
 
 Enter Marian, Forrest. 
 
 Cas. Peace, I say ! they come. 
 Whimper not; and you do I'll use you worse. 
 Behold that wicked strumpet with that knave ! 
 O, that I had a pistol for their sakes. 
 That at one shot I might despatch them both ! 
 But I must stand close yet, and see the rest. 
 [He conceals himself again.] 
 
 Mar. How lik'st thou, Miles, my orchard 
 and my house? [content, 
 
 For. Well ! thou art seated to thy heart's 
 A pleasant orchard and a house well-furnished : 
 There nothing wants ; but in the gallery 
 The painter shows his art exceedingly. 
 
 Mar. Yet is there one thing goeth beyond 
 all these : 
 Contented life that giveth the heart his ease, 
 And that I want. One knocketh at the door. 
 
 For. Sweet love, adieu ! Exit Forrest. 
 
 Mar. Farewell, sweetheart ! Who is that 
 at the door? 
 
 Enter Clinton. 
 
 Clin. A friend. 
 
 Mar. Come near ! what, captain, is it you? 
 
 Clin. Even I, fair Marian, watching care- 
 The blessed step of opportunity. [fully 
 
 Mar. Good, good ! how fortune gluts me 
 
 with excess ! [more. 
 
 Still they that have enough shall meet with
 
 150 Grim the Collier, Act III., Sc. i 
 
 Clin. But where's the doctor? 
 Mar. Ministering abroad 
 Physic to some sick patients he retains. 
 
 Clin. Let him abroad, I'll minister at home 
 Such physic shall content my Marian. 
 
 Cas. O monstrous ! now the world must see 
 my shame. 
 This head must bear whatever likes my dame. 
 
 [Aside.] 
 Mar. I have no malady requires a cure. 
 Clin. Why, then must I assume a sick 
 man's part ! 
 And all my sickness lieth at my heart; 
 'Tis the heart-burning- that torments me so. 
 Mar. There is no cure for fire but to be 
 quench 'd. [remedy. 
 
 Clin. Thou hast prescrib'd a sovereign 
 Cas. O, who the devil made her a phy- 
 sician? [i45ide.] 
 Clin. Let's not obscure what love doth 
 manifest ; [strange 
 Nor let a stranger's bed make thee seem 
 To him that ever lov'd and honour'd thee. 
 Mar. A captain made a captive by loose 
 love [shame 
 And gadding fancy ! fie, 'twere monstrous 
 That Cupid's bow should blemish Mars's 
 name ! [thoughts, 
 Take up thy arms, recall thy drooping 
 And lead thy troops into the spacious fields ! 
 Cas. She counsels others well, if she would 
 
 take it. [/litdr.] 
 
 Clin. Thou counsellest the blind to lead the 
 blind ; 
 Can I lead them that cannot guide myself? 
 Thou, Marian, must release my captive heart.
 
 Grim the Collier, Act III., Sc. i 151 
 
 Mar. With all my heart I grant thee free 
 
 release. 
 Clin. Thou art obscure too much : but tell 
 me, love, 
 Shall I obtain my long-desired love? [mind 
 Mar. Captain, there is yet somewhat in thy 
 Thou wouldst reveal, but wantest utterance. 
 Thou better knouest to front the braving foe. 
 Than plead love-suits. 
 
 Clin. I grant 'tis even so ; 
 Extremity of passions still are dumb^ 
 No tongue can tell love's chief perfections : 
 Persuade thyself my love-sick thoughts are 
 thine ; [refine. 
 
 Thou only may'st those drooping thoughts 
 Mar. Since at my hands thou seek'st a 
 remedy, 
 I'll ease thy grief, and cure thy malady. 
 No drug the doctor hath shall be too dear; 
 His antidote shall fly to do thee good. 
 Come in, and let thy eye make choice for thee, 
 That thou may'st know how dear thou art to 
 me. 
 
 Exeunt Clinton, Marian. 
 Cas. Is this obedience? now the devil go 
 with them ! 
 And yet I dare not; O, she's mankind grown ! 
 O miserable men that must live so. 
 And damned strumpets, authors of this woe ! 
 
 Enter Clinton, Marian. 
 But peace ! be still ! they come. O shameless 
 
 shame ! 
 Well may the world call thee the devil's dame ! 
 Mar. Captain, thy skill hath pleased me so 
 well 
 That I have vow'd my service to Bellona.
 
 152 Grim the Collier, Act III., Sc. i 
 
 Cas. Her service to Bellona I turn'd stark 
 ruffian ! 
 She'll be call'd Cavaliero Marian. [/litde.] 
 
 Clin. And I will train thee up in feats of 
 arms, 
 And teach thee all the orders of the field ; 
 That whilst we, like to Mars and Venus, jest, 
 The doctor's head may get a gallant crest. 
 
 Cas. I can no longer linger my disgrace. 
 Nor hide my shame from their detested sight. 
 
 [He comes forward.] 
 How now, thou whore, dishonour to my bed ! 
 Disdain to womanhood, shame of thy sex ! 
 Insatiate monster ! corrosive of my soul ! 
 What makes this captain revelling in my house? 
 My house ! nay, in my bed ! You'll prove a 
 
 soldier ! 
 Follow Bellona, turn a martialist ! 
 I'll try if thou hast learn 'd to ward my blows. 
 
 Mar. Why, how now, man? is this your 
 madding month? 
 What, sir ! will you forbid me in good sort 
 To entertain my friends? 
 
 Cas. Your friends, you whore? [here. 
 
 They are no friends of mine, nor come they 
 Clinton, avaunt, my house is for no such. 
 
 Mar. Alas, good sir ! are you grown so sus- 
 picious. 
 Thus on no proofs to nourish jealousy? 
 I cannot kiss a man but you'll be angry. 
 In spite of you, or whoso else saith nay. 
 My friends are welcome, as they come this 
 If you mislike it, mend it as you may. [way : 
 What, do you think to pin up Marian 
 As you were wont to do your Spanish girls? 
 No, sir, I'll be half mistress of myself; 
 The other half is yours, if you deserve it.
 
 Grim the Collier, Act III., Sc. i 153 
 
 Clui. What madness mov'd thee be dis- 
 pleas'd with me, 
 That always us'd thee with so kind regard? 
 Did I not at thy first arrival here 
 Conduct thee to the Earl of London's house? 
 
 Mar. Did I not, being unsolicited, 
 Bestow my first pure maiden love on thee? 
 Clin. Did I not grace thee there in all the 
 court. 
 And bear thee out against the daring abbot? 
 Mar. Did I not forsake many young gallant 
 courtiers, 
 Enamoured with thy aged gravity, 
 Who, now being weary of me, wouldst dis- 
 grace me? 
 Cas. If there be any conscience left on earth, 
 How can I but believe these protestations? 
 Clin. Have I not always been thy nearest 
 
 friend? 
 Mar. Have I not always been thy dearest 
 
 wife? 
 Clin. How much will all the world in this 
 condemn thee ! [find, 
 
 Mar. At first I little fear'd what now I 
 And grieve too late. 
 
 Cas. Content thee, gentle dame ! 
 The nature of our countrymen is such, 
 That, if we see another kiss our wives. 
 We cannot brook it : but I will be pleas 'd ; 
 For will I, nill I, so methinks I must. 
 And, gentle captain, be not you offended; 
 I was too hot at first, but now repent it. 
 I prythee, gentle dame, forgive me this. 
 And drown all jealousy in this sweet kiss. 
 Clin. This shows your wisdom : on ! I'll 
 follow you.
 
 154 Grim the Collier, Act IV., Sc. i 
 
 Mar. [Aside.] Well, doctor, henceforth 
 never reak it scorn 
 At my sweet Clinton's hands to take the horn. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
 ACT IV., SCENE i. 
 
 Enter Robin Goodfellow, in a suit of 
 leather, close to his body ; his face and 
 hands coloured russet-colour, with a 
 flail. 
 
 Rob. The doctor's self would scarce know 
 Robin now. 
 Curs'd Marian may go seek another man, 
 For I intend to dwell no longer with her 
 Since that the bastinado drove me thence. 
 These silken girls are all too fine for me : 
 My master shall report of those in hell, 
 Whilst I go range amongst the country-maids, 
 To see if homespun lasses milder be_ 
 Than my curs'd dame and Lacy's wanton wife. 
 Thus therefore will I live betwixt two shapes ; 
 When as I list, in this transform 'd disguise, 
 I'll fright the country-people as they pass; 
 And sometimes turn me to some other form. 
 And so delude them with fantastic shows. 
 But woe betide the silly dairymaids, [night, 
 For I shall fleet their cream-bowls night by 
 And slice the bacon-flitches as they hang. 
 Well, here in Croydon will I first begin 
 To frolic it among the country lobs. 
 This day, they say, is call'd Holyrood-day, 
 And all the youth are now a-nutting gone. 
 Here are a crew of younkers in this wood.
 
 Grim the Collier, Act IV., Sc. i 155 
 
 Well-sorted, for each lad hath got his lass. 
 Marry, indeed, there is a tricksy girl 
 That three or four would fain be doing with, 
 But that a wily priest among the rest 
 Intends to bear her sheer away from all. 
 The miller and my brother Grim the collier 
 Appointed here to scuffle for her love. 
 I am on Grim's side; for long time ago 
 The devil call'd the collier like to like: 
 
 Enter Grim, Clack, Parson Shorthose, 
 Joan, with a bag of nuts. 
 But here the miller and the collier come, 
 With Parson Makebate and their tricksy girl. 
 
 Grim. Parson, persuade me no more. I 
 come, Jug, to your custody ; Jug, hold the nut- 
 bag. 
 
 Clack. Nay, I will give you nuts to crack. 
 
 Grim. Crack in thy throat and hauster too, 
 
 Sho. Neighbours, I wish you both agree : 
 Yet me be judge, be rul'd by me. 
 
 Grim. Master Parson, remember what 
 Pueriles saith, Ne accesseris ad concilio, &c. 
 I tell you I found this written in the bottom of 
 one of my empty sacks. Never persuade men 
 that be inexecrable. I have vowed it, and I 
 will perform it. The quarrel is great, and I 
 have taken it upon my own shoulders. 
 
 Clack. Ay, that thou shalt, ere I have done; 
 for I will lay it on, i' faith ! 
 
 Grim. If you lay it in, I must bear it out, 
 this is all. If you strike, I must stand to any- 
 thing, although it be the biggest blow that you 
 can lay upon me. 
 
 Joan. Ye both have ofttimes sworn that ye 
 love me ; 
 Let me overrule ycju in this angry mood.
 
 IS6 Grim the Collier, Act IV., Sc. i 
 
 Neighbours and old acquaintance, and fall out ! 
 
 Rob. Why, that is because thou wilt not 
 let them fall in. 
 
 Grim. I say, my heart bleedeth when thou 
 speakest, and therefore do not provoke me. 
 Yet, miller, as I am monstrous angry, so I have 
 a wonderful great mind to be repeas'd. Let's 
 think what harm cometh by this same fighting ; 
 if we should hurt one another, how can we help 
 it? Again, Clack, do but here forswear Joan's 
 company, and I'll be thine instead of her, to 
 use in all your businesses from Croydon to 
 London ; yours, Gilbert Grim, the chief collier 
 for the king's majesty's own mouth. 
 
 Clack. O Grim, do I smell you? I'll make 
 you forswear her before we two part ; and 
 therefore come on to this gear. Collier, I will 
 lay on load, and when it is done, let who will 
 take it off again. 
 
 Joan. Yet once more hear me speak : leave 
 off for shame. 
 If not for love, and let not others laugh 
 To see your follies ; let me overrule you. 
 
 Sho. Ay, let them fight, I care not : I 
 Meantime away with Joan will fly ; 
 And whilst they two are at it here. 
 We two will sport ourselves elsewhere. 
 
 Rob. There's a stone priest ! he loveth a 
 wench, indeed : 
 He careth not though both of them do bleed ; 
 But Robin Goodfellow will conjure you, [too. 
 And mar your match, and bang you soundly 
 I like this country-girl's condition well; 
 She's faithful, and a lover but to one : 
 Robin stands here to right both Grim and her. 
 
 Grim. Master Parson, look you to my love.
 
 Grim the Collier, Act IV., Sc. i 157 
 
 Miller, here I stand 
 With my heart and my hand 
 In sweet Jug's right 
 With thee to fight. 
 
 Clack. Come, let us to it then. 
 
 They fight: Robin beateth the miller 
 with a flail, and felleth him. 
 Rob. Now, miller, miller dustypoll, 
 I'll clapper-claw your lobbernoll. 
 
 Sho. Come, Jug, let's leave these senseless 
 
 blocks. 
 
 Giving each other blows and knocks. [so. 
 
 Joan. I love my Grim too well to leave him 
 
 Sho. You shall not choose : come, let's 
 
 away. 
 
 Shorthose pulleth Jug after him: Robin 
 
 beateth the priest with his flail. 
 
 Rob. Nay then, sir priest, I'll make you 
 
 stay. [part so. 
 
 Clack. Nay, this is nothing, Grim; we'll not 
 
 1 thought to have borne it off with my back 
 
 sword ward, 
 And I receiv'd it upon my bare costard. 
 
 They fight again. 
 Rob. What, miller, are you up again? 
 Nay, then, my flail shall never lin, 
 Until I force one of us twain 
 Betake him to his heels amain. 
 
 Robin beats the miller again. 
 Clack. Hold thy hands. Grim ! thou hast 
 
 murder'd me. 
 Grim. Thou liest, it is in mine own offence 
 I do it. Get thee gone then ! I had rather have 
 thy room than thy company. 
 
 (lack. Marry, with all my heart ! O, the 
 collier playeth the devil with me !
 
 158 Grim the Collier, Act IV., Sc. i 
 
 Rob. No, it is the devil playeth the collier 
 with thee. [i45»de.] 
 
 Sho. My bones are sore; I prythee, Joan, 
 Let's quickly from this place be gone. 
 Nay, come away, I love thee so. 
 Without thee I will never go. 
 
 Rob. What, priest, still at your lechery? 
 
 Robin beats the priest. 
 I'll thrash you for your knavery. 
 If any ask who beat thee so, 
 Tell them 'twas Robin Goodfellow. 
 
 Shorthose runneth away. 
 
 Grim. O miller, art thou gone? I am glad 
 of it. I smelt my own infirmity every stroke I 
 struck at him. Now, Joan, I dare boldly swear 
 thou art my own ; for I have won thee in the 
 plain field. Now Master Parson shall even 
 strike it up ; two or three words of his mouth 
 will make her gammer Grim all the days of her 
 life after. 
 
 Rob. Here is two well-favoured slaves ! 
 Grim and I may curse all good faces. 
 And not hurt our own. 
 
 Joan. What, my love, how dost thou? 
 
 Grim. Even as a conqueror may do. Jug, 
 for thy sake I have made the miller a poor 
 cripple all the days of his life, good for nothing 
 else but to be carried into the spital-house. 
 
 Rob. Ay, there is one lie, for thou didst 
 never hurt him. [Aside.] 
 
 Joan. I am glad thou 'scapedst, my love, 
 and wast not hurt. 
 
 Grim. Who? I hurt? Joan, thou knowest 
 me not yet : thou mayest do better hereafter. 
 I gave him five mortal wounds the first five 
 strokes I made at him.
 
 Grim the Collier, Act IV., Sc. i 159 
 
 Rob. There are five lies clapt into one, for 
 
 brevity's sake. [Aside.] 
 
 Grim. And presently, upon the fifth blow, I 
 made a dangerous thrust at him, and violently 
 overthrew him, horse and foot, and there he 
 lay. 
 
 Rob. Nay, there you lie. The collier is ex- 
 cellent 
 To be companion to the devil himself. 
 
 [Aside.] 
 Grim. But where's Master Parson? 
 Joan. He was well bang'd, and knew not 
 who 'twas did it, 
 And would have had me gone away with him. 
 Here lieth his nut-bag, and the miller's too : 
 They had no leisure to take them away. 
 
 Grim. The better for us, Joan; there is 
 good cracking work : it will increase household 
 stuff. Come, let's after the parson; we will 
 comfort him, and he shall couple us. I'll have 
 Pounceby the painter score upon our painted 
 cloth at home all the whole story of our going 
 a-nutting this Holyrood-day ; and he shall paint 
 me up triumphing over the miller. 
 
 Exeunt Grim and Joan. 
 Rob. So let the collier now go boast at 
 home 
 How he hath beat the miller from his love. 
 I like this modest country maid so well, 
 That I believe I must report in hell 
 Better of women than my master can. 
 Well, till my lime's expir'd, I'll keep this 
 
 quarter, 
 And night by night attend their merry meet 
 ings. 
 
 Exit Robin.
 
 i6o Grim the Collier, Act IV., Sc. i 
 
 Enter Dunstan with Earl Lacy sick. 
 Dun. Let not your sickness add more feeble- 
 ness 
 Unto your weaken 'd age; but give me leave 
 To cure thy vain suspicious malady. 
 Thy eyes shall witness how thou art deceiv'd, 
 Misprizing thy fair lady's chastity : 
 For whilst we two stand closely here unseen, 
 We shall espy them presently approach. 
 
 Lacy. O, show me this, thou blessed man 
 
 of God, [ag€. 
 
 And thou shalt then make young my wither'd 
 
 Dun. Mark the beginning ; for here Mus- 
 
 grave cometh. 
 
 Enter Musgrave. 
 Mus. O thrice unhappy and unfortunate, 
 That, having fit occasion proffer'd thee 
 Of conference with beauteous Honorea, 
 Thou overslipp'd it, and o'erslipp'dst thyself. 
 Never since wedlock tied her to the earl 
 Have I saluted her ; although report 
 Is blaz'd abroad of her inconstancy. 
 This is her evening walk, and here will I 
 Attend her coming forth, and greet her fairly. 
 Lacy. See, Dunstan, how their youth doth 
 blind our age ! 
 Thou dost deceive thyself and bringest me 
 To see my proper shame and infamy. 
 
 Enter Honorea. 
 
 But here she comes : my hope, my fear, my 
 
 love. [thy bed. 
 
 Dun. Here comes the unstain'd honour of 
 
 Thy ears shall hear her virtuous, chaste replies, 
 
 And make thy heart confess thou dost her 
 
 wrong. [wanton thoughts, 
 
 Hon. Now modest love hath banish'd
 
 Grim the Collier, Act IV., Sc. i i6i 
 
 And alter 'd me from that I was before, 
 To that chaste life I ought to entertain. 
 My heart is tied to that strict form of life, 
 That I joy only to be Lacy's wife. 
 
 Lacy. God fill thy mind with these chaste, 
 virtuous thoughts ! 
 
 Mus. O, now 1 see her, I am half asham'd 
 Of so long absence, of neglect of speech. 
 My dearest lady, patroness of beauty. 
 Let thy poor servant make his true excuse ! 
 
 Hon. Musgrave, I easily take your excuse, 
 Accusing my fond self for what is pass'd. 
 
 Mus. Long time we wanted opportunity ; 
 But now the forelock of well-wishing time 
 Hath bless 'd us both, that here without suspect 
 W'e may renew the tenor of our loves. 
 
 Lacy. O Dunstan, how she smiles to hear 
 him speak ! 
 
 Hon. No, child of fortune and inconstancy, 
 Thou shalt not train me, or induce my love 
 To loose desires or dishonoured thoughts. 
 'Tis God's own work that struck a deep re- 
 morse 
 Into my tainted heart for my past folly. 
 
 Mus. O, thou confound 'st me! Speak as 
 thou wert wont. 
 Like Love herself, my lovely Honorea ! 
 
 Hon. Why, how now, Musgrave ! what es- 
 
 teem'st thou me, 
 
 That thou provokest me, that first denied me? 
 
 1 will not yield you reasons why I may not, 
 
 More than your own. You told me why you 
 
 would not. [happiness ! 
 
 Mus. By heavens, by thee, my saint, my 
 No torture shall control my heart in this. 
 To teach my tongue deny to call thee love. 
 
 A.I'. IV. M
 
 i62 Grim the Collier, Act IV., Sc. I 
 
 Hon. Well, in regard that in my maiden- 
 days 
 I lov'd thee well, now let me counsel thee. 
 Reclaim these idle humours ; know thyself ; 
 Remember me, and think upon my lord ; 
 And let these thoughts bring forth those chaste 
 effects, [world : 
 
 Which may declare thy change unto the 
 And this assure thee — whilst I breathe this air, 
 Earl Lacy's honour I will ne'er impair. 
 
 Exit Honorea. 
 
 Dun. Now your eyes see that which your 
 heart believ'd not. 
 
 Lacy. 'Tis a miracle beyond the reach 
 Of my capacity ! I could weep for joy. [her ! 
 Would but my tears express how much I love 
 Men may surmise amiss in jealousy, 
 Of those that live in untouch 'd honesty. 
 
 Mus. Is she departed? and do I conceive 
 This height of grief, and do no violence 
 Unto myself? Said she I denied her? 
 Far be it from my heart to think that thought. 
 All ye that, as I do, have felt this smart, 
 Ye know how burthensome 'tis at my heart. 
 Hereafter never will I prosecute 
 This former motion, my unlawful suit; 
 But, since she is Earl Lacy's virtuous wife, 
 I'll live a private, pensive, single life. 
 
 Exit Musgrave. 
 
 Dun. God doth dispose all at his blessed 
 will; [good, 
 
 And he hath chang'd their minds from bad to 
 That we, which see't, miay learn to mend our- 
 selves, [love : 
 
 Lacy. I'll reconcile myself to Musgrave 's 
 I will recant my false suspicion,
 
 Grim the Collier, Act IV., Sc. i 163 
 
 And humbly make my true submission. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 Enter Marian, chafing. 
 
 Mar. Say'st thou thou 'It make the house 
 too hot for me? 
 I'll soon abroad, and cool me in the air. 
 I'll teach him never scorn to drink his health 
 Whom I do love. He thinks to overcrow me 
 With words and blows ; but he is in the wrong, 
 Begin he when he dares ! O, he's too hot 
 And angry to live long with Marian. 
 But I'll not long be subject to his rage : 
 Here 'tis shall rid him of his hateful life, 
 And bless me with the style of widowhood. 
 'Twas Harvey's work to temper it so well : 
 The strongest poison that he could devise. 
 
 Enter Clinton. 
 I have been too long subject to the slave; 
 But now I'll cast off that detested yoke. 
 
 Clin. Musgrave, I see, is reconcil'd to th' 
 earl ; 
 For now I met him walking with Lord Lacy. 
 Sure, this is Marian's plot, and there she 
 What, love, alone? [stands. 
 
 Mar. Ay, captain, much disturb'd 
 About the frantic doctor's jealousy; 
 Who, though he seem'd content when thou 
 
 wast there. 
 He after fell reviling thee and me ; 
 Robb'd me of all my jewels; locks his plate 
 In his own trunk; and let's me only live 
 To bear the idle title of his wife. 
 
 Clin. Fair Marian, by a soldier's loyal faith. 
 If my employment any way may help 
 To set thee free from this captivity. 
 Use me in any sort : command my sword ; 
 
 M 2
 
 1 64 Grim the Collier, Act IV., Sc. i 
 
 I'll do't, as soon as thou shalt speak the word. 
 Mar. Now, by my true love, which I wish 
 I conjure thee with resolution [to thee, 
 
 To slay that monster ! Do not fail to do it ! 
 For, if thou dost, I would I had not spoke it. 
 Clin. Now try me; and, when next we hap 
 to meet, 
 The doctor lies stone dead at Clinton's feet. 
 Mar. Nay, now I see thou lov'st me. 
 Clin. Say no more. 
 If thou dost loathe him, he shall die therefore. 
 Mar. To-morrow morning- will he early rise 
 To see Earl Lacy : meet him in the cloister, 
 And make that place revenge his sanctuary. 
 This night will I break open all the trunks, 
 Rifle his caskets, rob him of his gold ; 
 And all the doctor's treasure shall be thine. 
 If thou miscarry, yet this drink shall do it. 
 
 Enter Castiliano. 
 
 Cas. My wife's impatience hath left me 
 
 alone. 
 
 And made my servant run I know not whither. 
 
 Mar. Peace ! here is our eyesore. Clinton, 
 
 leave us now. [do it. 
 
 Clin. Nay, now occasion smiles, and I will 
 
 Clinton draweth his sword. 
 Mar. Put up thy sword ; be it thy morning's 
 work : 
 Farewell to-night ; but fail me not to-morrow. 
 Clin. Farewell, my love. No rest shall 
 close these eyes, 
 Until the morning peep ; and then he dies. 
 
 Exit Clinton. 
 Cas. [Soliloq.] Now I remember, I have 
 quite outrun 
 My time prefix 'd to dwell upon the earth :
 
 Grim the Collier, Act IV., Sc. i 165 
 
 Yet Akercock is absent : where is he? 
 
 O, I am glad I am so well near rid 
 
 Of my earth's plague and my lascivious dame. 
 
 Mar. Hath he discover'd my intendment, 
 That he presageth his ensuing death? 
 I must break off these fearful meditations. 
 
 Cas. How shall I give my verdict up to 
 Pluto 
 Of all these accidents? 
 
 Mar. Why, how now, man? 
 
 Cas. What, my dear dame ! my reconciled 
 spouse ! 
 Upon my soul, my love to thee is more 
 Now at this present than 'twas e'er before. 
 
 Mar. He hath descried me sure, he sootheth 
 me so ! [Aside.'] 
 
 Cas. I love thee now, because I now must 
 This was the day of my nativity, [leave thee. 
 And therefore, sweet wife, let us revel it. 
 
 Mar. Nay, I have little cause to joy at all. 
 
 Cas. Thou crossest still my mirth with dis- 
 contents ! 
 If ever heretofore I have displeas'd thee, 
 Sweet dame, I crave thy pardon now for all. 
 This is my birthday, girl, I must rejoice : 
 Ask what thou wilt, and I will give it thee. 
 
 Mar. Should I but ask to lead a quiet life, 
 You hardly would grant this unto your wife ; 
 Much less a thing that were of more import. 
 
 Cas. Ask anything, and try if I'll deny thee. 
 
 Mar. O my poor Musgrave, how hast thou 
 And my fair lady ! [been wrong'd, 
 
 Cas. Use no preambles. 
 But tell me plainly. 
 
 Mar. Nay, remember them, [me, 
 
 And join their slander to that love you owe
 
 i66 Grim the Collier, Act IV., Sc. i 
 
 And then old Lacy's jealousy. 
 
 Cas. What then? 
 
 Mar. Nay, now I see you will not under- 
 stand me. 
 
 Cas. Thou art too dark ; speak plainly, and 
 'tis done. [Musgrave's eyes 
 
 Mar. Then doom the earl, and bless poor 
 With Honorea's love ; for this in thy hands lies. 
 
 Cas. How should I doom him? 
 
 Mar. How else, but to death? [hands! 
 
 Cas. As if his life or death lay in my 
 
 Mar. He is thy patient, is he not? 
 
 Cas. He is. 
 
 Mar. Then in thy hands lie both his life and 
 death. 
 Sweet love, let Marian beg it at thy hand : 
 Why should the grey-beard live to cross us all? 
 Nay, now I see thee frown : thou wilt not do it. 
 
 Cas. Fie, fie, dame ! you are too suspicious. 
 Here is my hand, that thou may'st know I love 
 I'll poison him this night before I sleep, [thee; 
 
 Mar. Thou dost but flatter me ! 
 
 Cas. Tush ! I have sworn it. 
 
 Mar. And wilt thou do it? 
 
 Cas. He is sure to die. [word : 
 
 Mar. I'll kiss thy lips for speaking that kind 
 
 But do it, and I'll hang about thy neck. 
 
 And curl thy hair, and sleep betwixt thy arms, 
 
 And teach thee pleasures which thou never 
 
 knewest. [more : 
 
 Cas. Promise no more, and trouble me no 
 The longer I stay here, he lives the longer. 
 r must go to him now, and now I'll do it. 
 Go home and hasten supper 'gainst I come : 
 We will carouse to his departing soul. [me : 
 
 Mar. I will, dear husband ; but remember
 
 Grim the Collier, Act V., Sc. i 167 
 
 [Aside]. When thou hast poison 'd him, I'll 
 poison thee. Exit Marian. 
 
 Cas. O wonderful, how women can dis- 
 semble ! 
 Now she can kiss me, hang about my neck, 
 And soothe me with smooth smiles and lewd 
 
 entreaties. 
 Well, I have promis'd her to kill the earl; 
 And yet, I hope ye will not think I'll do it. 
 
 [Aside to audience.] 
 Yet I will sound the depth of their device, 
 And see the issue of their bloody drift. 
 I'll give the earl, unknown to any man, 
 A sleepy potion, which shall make him seem 
 As if he were stark dead, for certain hours : 
 But in my absence no man shall report 
 That for my dame's sake I did any hurt. 
 
 Exit. 
 
 ACT v., SCENE i. 
 Enter Grim, with Joan. 
 
 Grim. Nay, but, Joan, have a care ! bear a 
 brain for all at once. 'Tis not one hour's 
 pleasure that I suspect more than your mother's 
 good countenance. If she be asleep, we may 
 be bold under correction ; if she be awake, I 
 may go my ways, and nobody ask me, Grim, 
 whither goest thou? Nay, I tell you, I am so 
 well beloved in our town, that not the worst 
 dog in the street will hurt my little finger. 
 
 Joan. Why speak you this? You need not 
 fear my mother, 
 For she was fast asleep four hours ago.
 
 1 68 Grim the Collier, Act V., Sc. i 
 
 Grim. Is she, sure? Did you hear her 
 snort in her dead sleep? Why then, Joan, I 
 have an hour's mirth for thee. 
 
 Joan. And I a mess of cream for thee. 
 
 Grim. Why, there is one for another then : 
 fetch it, Joan ; we will eat and kiss, and be as 
 merry as your cricket. [Exit Joan for the 
 cream.] Art thou gone for it? Well, go thy 
 ways for the kindest lass that ever poor collier 
 met withal. I mean for to make short work 
 with her, and marry her presently. I'll single 
 her out, i' faith ! till I make her bear double, 
 and give the world to understand we will have 
 a young Grim between us. 
 
 Enter Joan with the cream. 
 
 Joan. Look here, my love, 'tis sweeten 'd 
 for thy mouth. 
 
 Grim. You have put none of your love- 
 powder in it, to make me enamourable of you, 
 have you, Joan? I have a simple pate, to ex- 
 pect you ! One knocketh at the door. Joan, 
 hark, my brains beat, my head works, and my 
 mind giveth me : some lovers of yours come 
 sneaking hither now; I like it not, 'tis sus- 
 pectious. One knocketh again. 
 
 Joan. You need not fear it ; for there is 
 none alive 
 Shall bear the least part of my heart from thee. 
 
 Grim. Say'st thou so? hold there still, and 
 whoe'er he be, open door to him. 
 
 She openeth the door. Enter Short- 
 hose, and Robin after him. 
 
 Joan. What, Master Parson, are you come 
 so late? 
 You are welcome; here's none but Grim and I. 
 
 Sho. Joan, I'll no more a-nutting go,
 
 Grim the Collier, Act V., Sc. i 169 
 
 I was so beaten to and fro ; 
 
 And yet who it was, I do not know. 
 
 Grim. What, Master Parson, are you come 
 so late to say evening'song to your parishioners? 
 I have heard of your knavery. I give you a 
 fair warning- ; touch her no lower than her 
 girdle, and no higher than her chin : I keep 
 her lips and her hips for my own use. I do; 
 and so, welcome ! 
 
 Robin. This two hours have I dogg'd the 
 parson round about all Croydon, doubting some 
 such thing. [i45tde.] 
 
 Sho. No, Grim, I here forswear to touch 
 Thy Joan, or any other such : 
 Love hath been so cudgell'd out of me, 
 I'll go no more to wood with thee. 
 
 Rob. 'Twas Robin beat this holy mind into 
 him. 
 I think more cudgelling would make him more 
 honest. [/Ist'de.] 
 
 Grim. You speak like an honest man and a 
 good parson, and that is more. Here's Joan's 
 benevolation for us, a mess of cream and so 
 forth. Here is your place. Master Parson. 
 Stand on the t'other side of the table, Joan. 
 Eat hard to-night, that thou may marry us the 
 better to-morrow. 
 
 Rob. What, is my brother Grim so good a 
 fellow. They fall to the cream. 
 
 I love a mess of cream as well as they ; 
 1 think it were best I stepp'd in and made one. 
 
 [Aside.] 
 Ho, ho, ho, my masters ! No good fellowship ? 
 Is Robin Goodfellow a bugbear grown, 
 
 Robin falleth to eat. 
 That he is not worthy to be bid sit down?
 
 170 Grim the Collier, Act V., Sc. i 
 
 Grim. O Lord save us ! sure, he is some 
 country-devil ; he hath got a russet coat upon 
 his face. 
 
 [Grim and Shorthose retire to the back 
 of the stage.] 
 Sho. Now, benedicite ! who is this? 
 I take him for some fiend, i-wis ; 
 O, for some holy-water here 
 Of this same place this spirit to clear ! 
 
 Rob. Nay, fear not, Grim, come fall unto 
 
 your cream : [eat? 
 
 Tut ! I am thy friend ; why dost not come and 
 
 Grim. I, sir? truly, master devil, I am well 
 
 here, I thank you. [tremblest thou? 
 
 Rob. I'll have thee come, I say. Why 
 
 Grim. No, sir, not I ; 'tis a palsy I have 
 
 still. [you. 
 
 Truly, sir, I have no great acquaintance with 
 
 Rob. Thou shalt have better, man, ere I 
 
 depart. 
 Grim. I will not and if I can choose. 
 Rob. Nay, come away, and bring your love 
 
 with you. 
 Grim. Joan ! you were best go to him, Joan. 
 Rob. What, shall I fetch thee, man? The 
 cream is sweet. 
 
 Grim. No, sir, I am coming : much good 
 do't you. I had need of a long spoon now I 
 go to eat with the devil. 
 
 Rob. The parson's penance shall be thus to 
 
 fast. [man? 
 
 Come, tell me. Grim, dost thou not know me, 
 
 Grim. No, truly, sir; I am a poor man 
 
 fetcheth my living out of the fire ; your worship 
 
 may be a gentleman devil, for aught I know. 
 
 Rob. Some men call me Robin Goodfellow.
 
 Grim the Collier, Act V., Sc. i 171 
 
 Grim. O Lord ! Sir, Master Robert Good- 
 fellow, you are very welcome, sir ! 
 
 Rob. This half year have I liv'd about this 
 town, 
 Helping poor servants to despatch their work, 
 To brew and bake, and other husbandry. 
 Tut, fear not, maid ! if Grim be merry 
 I will make up the match between ye. [name ! 
 
 Grim. There will be a match in the devil's 
 
 Rob. Well, now the night is almost spent, 
 Since your affections all are bent 
 To marriage and to constant love, 
 Grim, Robin doth thy choice approve ; 
 And there's the priest shall marry you : 
 Go to it, and make no more ado. 
 Sirrah, sir priest ! go, get you gone, 
 And join both her and him anon ; 
 But ne'er hereafter let me take you 
 With wanton love-tricks, lest I make you 
 Example to all stone-priests, ever 
 To deal with other men's loves never. 
 
 Sho. Valete vos, and God bless me, 
 And rid me from his company ! 
 Come, Grim, I'll join you hand in hand. 
 In sacred wedlock's holy band. 
 I will no more a-nutting go; 
 That journey caused all this woe. 
 
 Grim. Come, let's to hand in hand quickly. 
 Master Robert, you were ever one of the 
 honestest merry devils that ever I saw. 
 
 Joan. Sweet Grim, and if thou lovest me, 
 let's away. 
 
 Grim. Nay, now, Joan, I spy a hole in your 
 coat : if you cannot endure the devil, you'll 
 never love the collifr. Why, we two are sworn 
 brothers. You shall see me talk with him even
 
 172 Grim the Collier, Act V., Sc. i 
 
 as familiarly as if I should parbreak my mind 
 and my whole stomach upon thee. 
 
 Joan. I prythee, do not, Grim. 
 
 Grim. Who? not I? O Lord, Master Robert 
 Goodfcllow. I have a poor cottage at home, 
 whither Joan and I will jog us merrily. We 
 will make you no stranger if you come hither. 
 You shall be used as devilishly as you would 
 wish, i' faith ! There is never a time my cart 
 Cometh from London but the collier bringeth 
 a goose in his sack, and that, with the giblets 
 thereof, is at your service. 
 
 Rob. This is more kindness. Grim, than I 
 expected. 
 
 Grim. Nay, sir, if you come home, you 
 shall find it true, I warrant you. All my whole 
 family shall be at your devilship's pleasure, 
 except my poor Joan here, and she is my own 
 proper nightgear. 
 
 Rob. Gramercies ! but away in haste; 
 The night is almost spent and past. 
 
 Grim. God be with you, sir; I'll make as 
 much haste about it as may be ; for and that 
 were once done I would begin a new piece of 
 work with you, Joan. Exeunt all but Robin. 
 
 Rob. Now joy betide this merry morn, 
 And keep Grim's forehead from the horn : 
 For Robin bids his last adieu 
 To Grim and all the rest of you. Exit Robin. 
 
 Enter Clinton alone. 
 
 Clin. Bright Lucifer, go couch thee in the 
 clouds, 
 And let this morning prove as dark as night ! 
 That I unseen may bring to happy end 
 The doctor's murder, which I do intend. 
 'Tis early yet : he is not so soon stirring.
 
 Grim the Collier, Act V., Sc. i 173 
 
 But stir he ne'er so soon, so soon he dies. 
 I '11 walk along before the palace gate ; 
 Then shall I know how near it is to-day, 
 He shall have no means to escape away. 
 
 Exit Clinton. 
 Enter Castiliano. 
 Cas. My trunk's broke open, and my 
 jewels gone! [spoil'd 
 
 My gold and treasure stol'n : my house de- 
 Of all my furniture, and nothing left ! 
 No, not my wife, for she is stol'n away : 
 But she hath pepper'd me; I feel it work 1 
 My teeth are loosen 'd, and my belly swell 'd; 
 My entrails burn with such distemper 'd heat 
 That well I know my dame hath poison 'd me: 
 When she spoke fairest, then she did this act. 
 When I have spoken all I can imagine, 
 I cannot utter half that she intends ; 
 She makes as little poisoning of a man 
 As to carouse; I feel that this is true. 
 
 Enter Clinton. 
 Nay, now I know too much of womankind. 
 'Zounds, here's the captain : what should he 
 make here [villany. 
 
 With his sword drawn? there's yet more 
 Clin. The morning is far spent ; but yet he 
 comes not. 
 I wonder Marian sends him not abroad. 
 Well, doctor, linger time, and linger life; 
 For long thou shalt not breathe upon the earth. 
 Cas. No, no, I will not live amongst ye 
 long : 
 Is it for me thou wait'st, thou bloody wretch? 
 Her poison hath prevented thee in murther. 
 Enter Earl Morirnn, St. Dunstan ivith 
 Honorea fainting, and Marian.
 
 174 Grim the Collier, Act V., Sc. i 
 
 Now here be they suppose Earl Lacy dead. 
 See how this lady grieveth for that she wisheth. 
 
 Dun. My Lord of London, by his sudden 
 death, 
 And all the signs before his late departure, 
 'Tis very probable that he is poison 'd. [lord, 
 
 Mar. Do you but doubt it? credit me, my 
 I heard him say that drink should be his last : 
 I heard my husband speak it, and he did it. 
 
 Cas. There is my old friend, she always 
 speaks for me. 
 
 shameless creature ! was't not thy device? 
 Mor. Let not extremity of grief o'erwhelm 
 
 thee, 
 My dearest Honorea ; for his death shall be 
 Surely reveng'd with all severity 
 Upon the doctor, and that suddenly. 
 Clin. What fortune's this, that all these 
 come this way 
 To hinder me, and save thy life to-day? 
 
 Hon. My gracious lord, this doleful acci- 
 dent 
 Hath robb'd me of my joy : and, royal earl. 
 Though in thy life thou didst suspect my love, 
 My grief and tears suspicions shall remove. 
 Mar. Madam, to you and to your father's 
 love 
 
 1 owe as much and more than my own life. 
 Had I ten husbands should agree to do it, 
 My gracious lord, you presently should know 
 
 it. [well, 
 
 Cas. Ay, there's a girl ! think you I did not 
 To live with such a wife, to come from hell? 
 Mar. Look, look, my lord, there stands the 
 
 murderer ! 
 Cas. How am I round beset on every side !
 
 Grim the Collier, Act V., Sc. i 175 
 
 First, that same captain here stands to kill me; 
 My dame she hath already poisoned me ; 
 Earl Morgan he doth threaten present death ; 
 The Countess Honorea, in revenge 
 Of Lacy, is extremely incens'd 'gainst me. 
 All threaten — none shall do it ; for my date 
 Is now expired, and I must back to hell. 
 And now, my servant, wheresoe'er thou be, 
 Come quickly, Akercock, and follow me. 
 LxDrdings, adieu ! and my curs'd wife, farewell I 
 If me ye seek, come follow me to hell. 
 
 The ground opens, and they both fall 
 down into it. 
 Mor. The earth that opened now is clos'd 
 
 again ! 
 Dun. It is God's judgment for his grievous 
 
 sins. 
 Clin. Was there a quagmire, that he sank 
 
 so soon? 
 Hon. O miracle ! now may we justly say, 
 Heavens have reveng'd my husband's death 
 this day. [thee much 
 
 Mor. Alas, poor Marian ! we have wrong'd 
 To cause thee match thyself to any such. 
 Mar. Nay, let him go, and sink into the 
 ground ; 
 For such as he are Ix^tter lost than found. 
 Now, Honorea, we are freed from blame, 
 And both enrich 'd with happy widow's name. 
 Enter Earl Lacy, with Forrest and 
 Musgravc. 
 Lacy. O lead mc quickly to that mourning 
 train 
 Which weep for me, who am reviv'd again. 
 Hon. Marian, I shed some tears of perfect 
 grief. She falleth into a swoon.
 
 176 Grim the Collier, Act V., Sc. i 
 
 Mor. Do not my eyes deceive me? liveth 
 my son? 
 
 Lacy. My lord and father, both alive and 
 well, 
 Recover 'd of my weakness. Where's my wife? 
 
 Mar. Here is my lady, your beloved wife, 
 Half dead to hear of your untimely end. 
 
 Lacy. Look on me, Honorea ; see thy lord : 
 I am not dead, but live to love thee still, [will : 
 
 Dun. 'Tis God disposeth all things, as he 
 He raiseth those the wicked wish to fall. 
 
 Clin. 'Zounds, I still watch on this en- 
 closed ground ; 
 For if he rise again, I'll murder him. [report 
 
 Hon. My lord, my tongue's not able to 
 Those joys my heart conceives to see thee live. 
 
 Dun. Give God the glory : he recovered 
 thee, [man, 
 
 And wrought this judgment on that cursed 
 That set debate and strife among ye all. 
 
 Mor. My lord, our eyes have seen a miracle, 
 Which after ages ever shall admire. 
 The Spanish doctor, standing here before us, 
 Is sunk into the bowels of the earth, 
 Ending his vile life by a viler death. 
 
 Lacy. But, gentle Marian, I bewail thy loss, 
 That wert maid, wife, and widow, all so soon. 
 
 Mar. 'Tis your recovery that joys me more, 
 Than grief can touch me for the doctor's death. 
 He never lov'd me whilst he liv'd with me. 
 Therefore the less I mourn his tragedy. 
 
 Mor. Henceforth we'll strictlier look to 
 strangers' lives. 
 How they shall marry any English wives. 
 Now all men shall record this fatal day ; 
 Lacy revived, the doctor sunk in clay.
 
 Grim the Collier, Act V., Sc. i 177 
 
 The trumpets sound, exeunt omnes nisi 
 Dunstan. 
 Dun. Now is Earl Lacy's house fill'd full of 
 
 joy, 
 He and his lady wholly reconcil'd, 
 Their jars all ended : those, that were like men 
 Transformed, turn'd unto their shapes ag-ain. 
 And, gentlemen, before we make an end, 
 A little longer yet your patience lend, 
 That in your friendly censures you may see 
 What the infernal synod do decree ; 
 And after judge, if we deserve to name 
 This play of ours, The Devil and his Dame. 
 
 Exit. 
 [It thunders and ligliteneth. Enter Pluto, 
 Minos, /Eacus, Rhadamanthus , with 
 Fury bringing in Malhecco's Ghost. 
 Plu. Minos, is this the day he should return, 
 And bring us tidings of his twelvemonth spent? 
 Enter Belpliegor, like a devil, ivith 
 horns on liis head, and Akercock. 
 Min. It is, great king, and here Belphegor 
 comes. [wont. 
 
 Plu. His visage is more ghastly than 'twas 
 What ornaments are those upon his head? 
 
 Bel. Hell, I salute thee ! now I feel myself 
 Rid of a thousand torments. O vile earth, 
 Worse for us devils than hell itself for men ! 
 Dread Pluto, hear thy subject's just complaint, 
 
 Belphegor kneeleth to Pluto. 
 Proceeding from the anguish of my soul. 
 O, never send me more into the earth ! [here. 
 For there dwells dread and horror more than 
 Plu. .Stand forth, Belphegor, and report the 
 truth 
 Of all things have betide thee in the world. 
 
 A.P IV. N
 
 178 Grim the Collier, Act V., Sc. i 
 
 Bel. When first, great king, I came into 
 
 the earth, 
 I chose a wife both young- and beautiful, 
 The only daughter to a noble earl ; 
 But when the night came that I should her bed, 
 I found another laid there in her stead : 
 And in the morning when I found the change, 
 Though I denied her, I was forc'd to take her. 
 With her I liv'd in such a mild estate, 
 Us'd her still kindly, lov'd her tenderly; 
 Which she requited with such light regard. 
 So loose demeanour, and dishonest life, 
 That she was each man's whore, that was my 
 
 wife. 
 No hours but gallants flock'd unto my house. 
 Such as she fancied for her loathsome lust. 
 With whom, before my face, she did not spare 
 To play the strumpet. Yea, and more than 
 
 this, 
 She made my house a stew for all resorts. 
 Herself a bawd to others' filthiness : 
 Which, if I once began but to reprove, 
 O, then, her tongue was worse than all the 
 
 rest ! [her. 
 
 No ears with patience would endure to hear 
 Nor would she ever cease, till I submit[ted] : 
 And then she'd speak me fair, but wish me 
 
 dead. 
 A hundred drifts she laid to cut me off, 
 Still drawing me to dangers of my life. 
 And now, my twelvemonth being near expir'd. 
 She poison 'd me; and lest that means should 
 
 fail. 
 She entic'd a captain to 've murdered me. 
 In brief, whatever tongue can tell of ill, 
 All that may well be spoken of my dame.
 
 Grim the Collier, Act V., Sc. i I79 
 
 Aker. Poor Akercock was fain to fly her 
 sight, 
 For never an hour but she laid on me ; 
 Her tongue and fist walked all so nimblely. 
 
 Plu. Doth then, Belphegor, this report of 
 Against all women hold in general? [thine 
 
 Bel. Not so, great prince : for, as 'mongst 
 other creatures, 
 Under that sex are mingled good and bad ; 
 There are some women virtuous, chaste, and 
 
 true, 
 And to all those the devil will give their due. 
 But, O, my dame, born for a scourge to man ! 
 For no mortality would endure that 
 Which she a thousand times hath offered me. 
 
 Plu. But what new shapes are those upon 
 thy head? [oldry, 
 
 Bel. These are the ancient arms of cuck- 
 And these my dame hath kindly left to me; 
 For which Belphegor shall be here derided. 
 Unless your great infernal majesty 
 Do solemnly proclaim, no devil shall scorn 
 Hereafter still to wear the goodly horn. 
 
 Plu. This for thy service I will grant thee 
 freely : 
 All devils shall, as thou dost, like horns wear, 
 And none shall scorn Belphegor's arms to bear. 
 And now, Malbecco, hear thy latest doom. 
 Since that thy first reports are justified 
 By after-proofs, and women's looseness known, 
 One plague more will I send upon the earth. 
 Thou shalt assume a light and fiery shape. 
 And so for ever live within the world ; 
 Dive into women's thoughts, into men's hearts ; 
 Raise up false rumours and suspicious fears; 
 Put strange inventions into each man's mind; 
 
 N 2
 
 i8o Grim the Collier, Act V., Sc. i 
 
 And for these actions they shall always call thee 
 By no name else but fearful Jealousy. 
 Go, Jealousy, beg-one ! thou hast thy charge; 
 Go, range about the world that is so large ! 
 And now, for joy Belphegor is return 'd, 
 The furies shall their tortures cast away, 
 And all hell o'er we'll make it holiday. 
 
 It thundereth and lighteneth. Exeunt 
 omnes. 
 
 Finis.
 
 A NEW AND 
 PLEASANT COMEDIE OR PLAIE 
 
 AFTER THE MANNER OF 
 
 COMMON CONDITIONS 
 
 [ The only copy extant, now in the collection of the Duke 
 of Devonshire cU Chatsworih, lacks the title-page. Inhere 
 is a transcript made by Malone a hundred years ago in the 
 Bodleian Library at Oxford.]
 
 Ai in the order of their entrance 
 
 Thrift 
 
 Shift 
 
 Drift 
 
 Sedmond 
 
 Clarisia 
 
 Condition 
 
 Galiarbus 
 
 Lamphedon 
 
 Sabia 
 
 Lomia 
 
 Sir Nomides 
 
 Master Mariner 
 
 Master Mate 
 
 Boatswain 
 
 Shipboy 
 
 Pirates 
 
 Mountagos 
 
 Cardolus]
 
 A Pleasant Comedy called 
 
 COMM[ON CONDITIONS] 
 
 [Thrift.] Come merrily forth, ma 
 
 Though our trade do 
 
 •••••••• our mirth shall augment. 
 
 This tinkerly trade, we give it the bag; 
 Like beggars we live, and want to pay rent; 
 Yet we never [l]in trudging, from city to 
 
 town. 
 Our hammers on the kettles' bottoms do ring; 
 Yet we scarce get leather pilches, without cloak 
 
 or gown. 
 Fie on this trade that no more gain will bring 1 
 Hey, tifty tofty tinkers, good fellows they be. 
 In stopping of one hole they use to make 
 three ! 
 
 [Drift.] Shift, he with shifting hath almost 
 
 marred all ; 
 He cannot be trusted in no kind of place : 
 For many old things into his budget doth fail. 
 That ofttime he fcarcth to show forth his face : 
 Pots, s-aucers, candlesticks, and scummcrs 
 
 be ... . 
 Are trussed up and closely laid into pack ; 
 Away he hies quickly, and dares not ... . 
 Shift's bandog doth bear his |bag on his back]
 
 I $4 Common Conditions 
 
 Hey, tifty tofty tinkers, go[od fellows they 
 
 be] 
 We stop one and make two w 
 
 [Shift.] Nay, yet rather Drift 
 
 That is ofttimes drive 
 
 To rob, kill, and spoil 
 
 Driven for to get it, and 
 
 And Unthrift again 
 
 Women, dice and dri 
 
 And therefore all we 
 
 To venture a robbing 
 
 . . . y, tifty, tofty t 
 
 . . . y stop one hole 
 
 [Thrift.] e tinkers are at a mad 
 
 stay, [the day : 
 
 e, there is nothing but tinkle tink all 
 
 An by Gog's blo[od, Shijft ! I cannot go but 
 
 my basin must tang ; 
 [B]y your leave ! if I had not devised this. Drift, 
 
 I mought go hang. 
 And, by His wounds, my masters ! I am in the 
 
 same state you twain be ; 
 But, when folk bring their kettles to mend, for 
 
 one hole I make three. 
 But, my masters ! wot ye what? I heard news 
 
 about the court this day, [away. 
 
 That there is a gentleman with a lady gone 
 And have with them a little parasite, full of 
 
 money and coin : 
 By Gog's blood ! let us leave off tinking, and 
 
 follow them to purloin ; 
 For the little knave hath got it with cogging 
 
 and telling of tales. 
 And therefore, by my consent, with this coin 
 
 we will fill our males.
 
 Common Conditions 185 
 
 [Shift.] Fellow Unthrift, by Gog's blood ! 
 here is my hand, on that condition : 
 We will take away their purses, and say we do 
 
 it by commission. 
 But, by His wounds ! although I have no com- 
 mission to show, [I trow. 
 I intend not to let them part with their purses, 
 [Thrift.] A commissioner? Gog's blood! 
 who made a commissioner of you? 
 If thou have no better answer at the bar, thou 
 wilt hang, I tell thee true. 
 [Shift.] Hang, you tinkerly slave ! Shift 
 
 will 'scape, when Drift shall be hanged. 
 [Thrift. Hold] my masters ! you jire both as 
 
 good as ever twanged. 
 [Shift. Goojd Unthrift, stand back, and let 
 me try with the slave. 
 
 [Drift.] lay my hammer on 
 
 your pate, you knave. [another. 
 
 [Thrift. Stay] your brawling thus one with 
 
 hold my hands, and if he 
 
 were my brother. 
 
 come again, and thou dare. 
 
 kettle at thy head, I take no great 
 
 not but again, [care. 
 
 shall at thy head amain : 
 
 and thou dare. 
 
 [an]d I spare : 
 
 _g](>'^(i will, and never care. 
 
 [thjough I were a drumsler, 
 
 [wjith another. 
 
 noddle, if you were my brother. 
 
 us but try, 
 
 [tjurrl for thee I. 
 mjd 
 
 [anjd hear what I s[ay]. 
 
 The gentleman with his lady intend to come 
 this way ;
 
 1 86 Common Conditions 
 
 And, therefore, let us be all in one mind, and 
 agree all together ; [hither ; 
 
 For 1 know it will not be long or they come 
 
 And therefore let us be packing hence, and in 
 a bush lie, 
 
 Until they be all ready to pass along hereby. 
 
 And when they think themselves in the wood 
 most surest to be, 
 
 Their purses we will be so bold as share be- 
 twixt us three. [device? 
 
 How say you, my masters? how like you this 
 
 Shift. By Gog's blood, fellow Thrift ! thou 
 
 art excellent wise. [thee forgive, 
 
 Well, fellow Drift, because of our business I 
 
 And I'll make thee amends and we both 'scape 
 the gallows and live. 
 Drift. Shift, this is your knavery ; if you 
 break one's head with a pan. 
 
 You will give him a plaster, to heal it again, 
 if you can. [my heart I 
 
 Well, here is my hand, I forgive thee, with all 
 Shift. Well, come on, then, incontinent let 
 us from hence depart. 
 
 Exeun[t] omne[s. 
 Here enter Sedmond with Clarisia and 
 Conditions out of the wood. 
 Sedm[ond.] The silly traveller that is at- 
 tacked through wearied toil. 
 
 And forced through mere necessity to trace 
 from native soil, 
 
 Though wearied at his journey's end with pain- 
 ful travel past. 
 
 Is glad in heart he hath attained his journey's 
 end at last. 
 
 So we, being possessed, as now, with wearied 
 toil, like case
 
 Common Conditions 187 
 
 Must live in hope, all travel past to find a 
 
 resting place. 
 Wherefore, sister ! be of good cheer, cast care 
 
 from out your mind, 
 And live in hope, all sorrows past, our father 
 
 out to find. [to make. 
 
 You see the chirping birds begins you melody 
 But you, ungrateful unto them, their pleasant 
 
 voice forsake. [pleasant lay, 
 
 You see the nightingale also, with sweet and 
 Sound forth her voice in chirping wise, to 
 
 banish care away. [and green, 
 
 You see dame Tellus — she, with mantle fresh 
 For to display everywhere, most comely to be 
 
 seen. [and gay, 
 
 You see dame Flora — she, with flowers fresh 
 Both here and there and everywhere, her 
 
 banners to display. 
 Wherefore, good sister ! cast off care, abject 
 
 this grief of mind, 
 In hope, the gods for this our sore a salve, no 
 
 doubt, will find. 
 Cla[risia.] Brother Sedmond ! the traveller 
 
 deserveth place of res^, [expressed. 
 
 In that he taken hath such pains, as you before 
 But, brother ! we are no travellers, that useth 
 
 day by day [beaten way. 
 
 To range abroad in foreign lands, to trace the 
 We are constrained through very force, to fly 
 
 from native soil ; 
 We are compelled through cruelty to under- 
 take this toil. 
 The traveller may keep the way that likes him 
 
 best to go ; 
 We are constrained to shroud ourselves in 
 
 woods for fear of foe.
 
 1 88 Common Conditions 
 
 Then, brother, tell me whether he or we do 
 
 take most pain, 
 Considering : when he please, he may return 
 
 to home again ! [pleasant lay, 
 
 You say, the nightingale also, with sweet and 
 Doth sound her notes in chirping wise, to 
 
 banish care away. [Flora she? 
 
 What pleasure may we take in her, or in Queen 
 What pleasure in dame Tellus eke think you in 
 
 us to be? 
 No no, good brother Sedmond ! their pleasant 
 
 noise they make [to forsake. 
 
 Would rather cause me, as I am, all pleasure 
 What pleasure should we take, brother ! if all 
 
 the birds in field 
 Were present here at instance, now, their har- 
 mony to yield? 
 Their pleasant voice renews my care; their 
 
 sweet melodious sound 
 Doth cause me now with trickling tears in 
 
 sorrows to abound. 
 For, thinking on the pleasures now, that erst 
 
 in time we had, 
 Doth cause me now to pine for woe, where 
 
 heart would have me glad. 
 And, therefore, brother 1 leave off talk ; in vain 
 
 you seem to prate ; [abate : 
 
 Not all the talk you utter can, my sorrows can 
 From such vain allegations, good brother, 
 
 seem to stay ! 
 Cond[itions.] Nay, noble gentleman ! under 
 
 correction, if I may, 
 I have a word or two with your system, by the 
 
 way — 
 How say you. Lady Clarisia, are you like case 
 
 contented?
 
 Common Conditions 189 
 
 [Clari]sia. Conditions, if thou speak thy 
 
 mind, it shall not be repented. 
 [Cond]itions. Then, in your quarrel against 
 
 your brother, I mind to break ; 
 So that, with licence, gentleman, you will give 
 
 me leave to speak. 
 [Sedm]ond. With a good will. Conditions ; 
 
 speak forth, what is thy mind? 
 [Cond]itions. Then, in faith! I'll pay some 
 
 home anon in their right kind. 
 It is given to women to be obscure, and full of 
 
 simpriety by the way ; 
 Proffer them the thing they most desire, they 
 
 would it denay. 
 They are so full of slights and fetches, that 
 
 scarce the fox, he, [pared be : 
 
 In every point with women may scarce com- 
 For when men pray, they will denay ; or when 
 
 men most desire. 
 Then, mark me ! a woman, she is soonest 
 
 stirred to ire ; 
 Their heads are fantastical, and full of variety 
 
 strange. 
 Like to the moon, whose operation it is often 
 
 times to change. 
 And, by your leave, howsoever it goes, the 
 
 mastery they must have 
 In every respect, or in ought that they seem 
 
 for to crave. [unto me, 
 
 But, madam ! I hope you will impute no blame 
 Considering you are a maiden, and full of im- 
 becility ! 
 Clarisia. A well, master Conditions ! is this 
 
 my part you take so? 
 Condit[ions.] Mistress Clarisia, to my 
 
 power the truth I must show.
 
 190 Common Conditions 
 
 Sedmo[nd.] Of truth, Conditions ! the truth 
 
 thou hast told. 
 Condit[ions.] Nay, and shall please you ! I 
 am somewhat feminative : 
 For if there be anything in mind, out I must 
 it drive. 
 Shift. Down with them all ! for, surely, they 
 shall die. [fly I 
 
 Clarisia. Ah cruel chance, good brother. 
 Drift. Why, where is the other that was in 
 your company? 
 By Gog's blood, minx! he shall buy his flying 
 full dear. 
 Thrift. And, in faith, you weasel-faced 
 knave ! ere you part from hence, 
 I'll be so bold as dive in your pocket, to share 
 out your pence. 
 Conditi[ons.] Nay, gentlemen tinkers ! be 
 
 good unto us twain. 
 Shift. Make an end ! take away all they 
 
 have ! I say once again. 
 Clarisia. Ah, cruel luckless chance, alas I 
 ah, Fortune, thou unsure ! 
 That canst in turning of thy wheel still cause 
 
 us to endure 
 Such changed heaps of woes, (alas !) as tongue 
 
 cannot express ; 
 For why, I see, in vain it is as now to seek 
 
 redress : 
 Wherefore, you cruel tyrants three, dispatch 
 
 my life in haste ; 
 For why, I joy no longer life, such heaps of 
 grief I taste. 
 Drift. Tush ! dispatch ! and when you have 
 done, bind her fast to this tree 
 Lest, when that we are gone, she make an 
 uproar, and we pursued be !
 
 Common Conditions 191 
 
 Shift. Come on, lady ! fast to this tree we 
 
 intend you to bind, 
 And with your own handkercher your eyes 
 
 we will blind. 
 Thrift. So ! in faith, minx ! you are fast, for 
 
 'scaping^ away. 
 Clarisia. A ! woe be to the time when first 
 
 I saw this luckless day ! 
 Thrift. Why, what shall we do with him? 
 
 by Gog"'s blood ! I cannot devise. 
 Except we should set him to keep crows, and 
 
 pick out both his eyes. 
 Condit[ions.^ Oh, of all loves, have com- 
 passion on me, and serve me not so ! 
 Hear ye ? And you cannot tell what to do with 
 
 me, then let me go : 
 The devil a penny have I and you will hang- 
 
 me on this tree ! 
 Shift. Gog's blood ! and well said, for he 
 
 hath read his own destiny, 
 \_Co]nditions. Ha! will you let me go? In 
 
 good faith, thank you I do ! 
 . . ft. Nay, stay a while ! we tell thee not 
 
 so, 
 For thou art like now to hang on this tree. 
 [Co\nditions. Ha ! and there be no remedy, 
 
 but hanged 1 must be, 
 One of you hang before, to show, how well it 
 
 will become mc. 
 [Thr]ift. To hang thee, or such as thou art, 
 
 we think it but a sport. 
 \^Co\ndilions. Cast not away a proper young 
 
 man in such a kind of sort ! 
 . . . ft. Tush, dispatch, and hang him 
 
 straight out of the way ! 
 [Co]nditions. Ha, good gentleman tinker f 
 
 I beseech you now stay ;
 
 192 Common Conditions 
 
 What mean you? by His wounds! I have be- 
 wrayed myself out of cry. 
 . . . ft. Whether thou hast, or hast not, 
 
 thou shalt surely die ! 
 Conditions. Ha ! and there be no remedy, 
 
 but that needs hang I must. 
 Give me the halter, I'll to it myself, and lay all 
 
 care in the dust. 
 . . . ft. I am sure thou meanest not to 
 
 hang- without help of a friend? 
 [Co]nditions. Is't not as good to hang 
 
 myself, as another hale the end? 
 [Thriyt. By Gog's blood, my masters ! and 
 
 he will we are all content ; 
 For then, in time, for hanging him we need 
 
 not repent. 
 Well, Drift, give the halter unto the elf ! 
 [Co]nditions. Ha ! was there ever little 
 
 knave driven to hang himself? 
 Nay ! I must also request your aid, to help me 
 
 into the tree. 
 . . . ft. Nay ! if thou lack any help, then 
 
 hang us all three. [an end ! 
 
 So law not, dispatch, and with speed make 
 [Co]nditions. What to do? 
 Drift. Marry, to hang thyself ! 
 [Conditions.] Nay, by your leave ! that is 
 
 more than I do intend. 
 . . . ft. Why, I am sure thou intendest 
 
 not to serve us -in such sort ! 
 [Co]nditions. Were not he mad would hang 
 
 himself, to show three tinkers sport? 
 . . . ft. Why, I am sure, to serve us so 
 
 thou dost not intend ! 
 [Co]nditions. A mad fool he were, would 
 
 desperately die, and never did offend.
 
 Conunon Conditions 193 
 
 . . ft. By Gog's blood ! I'll tear him down, 
 
 or else I'll lose my life. 
 [Co]nditions. Back again ! or I'll be so bold 
 
 as pare your nails with my knife. 
 [Thri]ft. Nay, look, my masters ! the slave 
 
 looks like an owl in a tree. 
 [Shi]ft. Nay, he looks like a crafty knave, 
 
 believe me ! 
 [Dri]ft. By Gog's blood, Shift! he looks 
 like a madge howlet, as Ihou hast said. 
 By the mass ! if I had my bow and bolt, here 
 he should be paid. 
 [Co]nditions. Halo, halo, halo, ho ! 
 
 [He] .... eth in the tree. 
 . . . ift. Why, what dost thou mean, to 
 
 halloo in . . . 
 [Co]nditions. What do I mean? Marry! 
 
 to have more company come to me. 
 Shift. By Gog's blood, my masters! we 
 
 were not best longer here to stay. 
 Ambo. I think was never such a crafty 
 knave before this day. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 Conditi[ons.] Are they all gone? Ha, ha, 
 ha ! well fare, old Shift, at a need : 
 By His wounds ! had I not devised this I had 
 
 hanged, indeed. 
 Tinkers? (quod you!), tink me no tinks ! I'll 
 
 meddle with them no more; 
 I think was never knave so used by a company 
 
 of tinkers before ! 
 By your leave! I'll be so bold as to look 
 
 about me and spy. 
 Lest any knaves for my coming down in 
 ambush do lie. 
 
 A. p. IV. O
 
 194 Common Conditions 
 
 By your licence I mind not to preach longer 
 
 in this tree. 
 My tinkerly slaves are packed hence, as far as 
 
 I may see. 
 Ha, my good Mistress Clarisia ! I am sorry to 
 
 see you at this stay ; 
 I will unbind you, that we may in all the haste 
 
 trudge away. 
 And, lady ! it is not best for us in Arabia 
 
 longer to tarry. 
 Seeing that fortune in every respect against 
 
 us still doth vary. 
 For, seeing we are so nigh the sea, that we 
 
 may pass, in one day, 
 Clean over the sea to Phrygia, I would not 
 
 wish we stay ; 
 Whereas now your good father sir Galiarbus is, 
 And of your brother, I warrant you, we there 
 
 shall not miss. 
 Clarisia. Well, sith needs we must, I am 
 
 content to Fortune's beck to bow. 
 Who shows herself an enemy to me, poor 
 
 wretch ! as now. 
 Wherefore, adieu, Arabia soil ! farewell, my 
 
 brother dear ! 
 It bootless is, I see, as now, in woods to seek 
 
 thee here. 
 Conditio[ns.] Well, lady ! without any 
 
 farther talk let us away. 
 Clarisia. Proceed, Conditions ! I mind not 
 
 here in danger long to stay. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 Here entereth Sedmond wailing. 
 Sedmond. The wight that had a jewel fair, 
 
 and by misfortune strange
 
 Common Conditions 195 
 
 Through negligence hath lost the same, as he 
 
 abroad did range : 
 The jewel being none of his, but one's that 
 
 was his friend, [to defend : 
 
 Who did the same betake to him, from losses 
 Now, being lost through negligence of him 
 
 that kept the same, 
 What double grief, think you, doth he within 
 
 his breast still frame? [to me. 
 
 My sister, she the jewel is, whom father gave 
 For to preserve from cruel foe, within my 
 
 guard to be. [sister dear, 
 
 But I (alas !) through negligence have lost my 
 Through cruel tyrants' furious force within this 
 
 forest here. 
 But ha, my sister ! is this thy chance, that 
 
 fortune hath assigned? 
 Must thou, [al]as ! to rapine yield? Must 
 
 thou now rest behind? 
 Ha ! why did I not betake to flight the corps 
 
 that lives in thrall? 
 Why did I not with thee like case into their 
 
 clutches fall? 
 Would God Lucina, she, with sharp and 
 
 crooked crabbed knife, 
 When first I came into this world, had end 
 
 my vital life ! [decree, 
 
 But sith it was not destiny, nor yet the gods' 
 With this most wretched state (alas !) I must 
 
 contented be. 
 But farewell now, my coursers brave, attrapped 
 
 to the ground ! 
 Farewell, adieu all pleasure eke with comely 
 
 hawk and hound ! [knight ! 
 
 Farewell, ye nobles all ! farewell each martial 
 
 o 2
 
 196 Common Conditions 
 
 Farewell, ye famous ladies all, in whom I did 
 
 delight ! 
 Adieu, my native soil ! adieu, Arbaccus king ! 
 Adieu, each wight and martial knight ! adieu, 
 
 each living thing ! 
 Adieu, my woeful sire, and sister in like case, 
 Whom never I shall see again, each other to 
 
 embrace ! 
 For now I will betake myself, a wandering 
 
 knight to be, 
 Into some strange and foreign land, their 
 
 comely guise to see. 
 
 Exit. 
 Here entereth Galiarbus out of Phrygia. 
 [G]aliarbus. Who can but smile and laugh 
 
 to see the state of fortune, she? 
 Who can devise in rightest wise to yield due 
 
 praise to thee? 
 Ha, goddess ! thou, whose countenance strange 
 
 doth ebb and flow each day ; 
 Sometime thou dost restore to wealth, and 
 
 sometime to decay. 
 As proof is plainly seen by me : though 
 
 banished wight I was, 
 Thou hast restored to wealth again, far better 
 
 in each case. [train 
 
 Though king Arbaccus, he, with all his courtly 
 And eke his route of parasites, did hold me in 
 
 disdain, [change 
 
 Yet through thy turning wheel and variable 
 Hast me restored to wealth again, in foreign 
 
 countries strange — 
 How should I duly laud your names, O 
 
 heavenly powers, for this? 
 How should we give you half the praise, that 
 
 you deserve i-wis?
 
 Common Conditions 197 
 
 Sith that our mortal tongue unable is to show 
 The praises that you ought to have which for 
 
 our part we owe. [enjoy, 
 
 Galiarbus shall not cease, whilst life he doth 
 In rightest wise he can devise, your praises to 
 
 employ. [remain. 
 
 For, why, though I but knight in Arabia did 
 It was my chance and fortune good, here in 
 
 Phrygia for to gain 
 A lordship great, the which the Duke hath now 
 
 bestowed on me, [be ; 
 
 Upon condition to remain his subject true to 
 The which, if I, Galiarbus, be ever falsely 
 
 found, [confound ! 
 
 Ye heavenly powers, do all agree my life to 
 But am constrained, in spite of force my 
 
 wonted name to hide. 
 Lest by that king Arbaccus' spies my state 
 
 should be espied. 
 But ha, Galiarbus ! in this thy joy what 
 
 sorrows doth abound? 
 What sudden griefs attacked thy mind? what 
 
 care thy heart doth wound? 
 What good can all this living do to thee in 
 
 foreign land? [tyrant's hand? 
 
 And seeing children twain remain as yet in 
 And in vain 'tis to send for them ; for, why, 
 
 that cruel king [them fling. 
 
 For mine offence, I this am sure, in prison will 
 Well, of force I must content myself, and live 
 
 in care and woe ; 
 From children twain I must refrain, and for 
 
 aye them forego. 
 
 Here enterls^ Lamphcclon out of Phrypia. 
 Lamph[ed(>yi^ As one that saw an apple 
 
 fair in top of tree so high,
 
 198 Common Conditions 
 
 And durst not once presume to come, nor draw 
 
 the same a-nigh : 
 For that he knew not what he was that owed 
 
 the piece of gfround, 
 Wherein the apple on top of tree in beauty did 
 
 abound ; 
 Which was the cause of his distress, and 
 
 double grief of mind, [thejnselves unkind : 
 For that the keepers of the same did show 
 This apple is a lady fair, whom I espied this 
 
 day, [prey. 
 
 As I in forest hunting- was, pursuing of the 
 Whose beauty hath bewitched me, even maugre 
 
 Dian's chase, [Venus' grace : 
 
 To yield and be a courtier now unto dame 
 Ha., Lamphedon ! where is become thy stout 
 
 courageous mind? 
 Shall sight of lady cause thee now to lead a life 
 
 so blind? 
 Shalt thou, which art son to the Duke of 
 
 Phrygia['s] noble soil. 
 Refrain thy wonted pleasures past, and under- 
 take this toil? 
 Not all the Phrygian ladies here could cause 
 
 thee for to rue. 
 Ha, wretch ! and hath a foreign dame com- 
 pelled thee then to sue? [he? 
 And must I yield, in spite of force, unto Cupido, 
 And must I leave my martial feats, to crave 
 
 her knight to be 
 Whom never yet I saw before? Ha, cruel 
 
 wretch ! unkind 
 To shoot that dart to pierce my heart, why 
 
 shouldst thyself so blind? 
 I am to crave her love, (alas Q whom never 
 
 yet I saw,
 
 Common Conditions 199 
 
 To show like love to me again, but did herself 
 
 withdraw. 
 And this the first time is (alas !) of her I had 
 
 a sight, 
 Whose comely looks and beauty brave had 
 
 wrought to me this spite. 
 Ha, lady brave ! would gods thou knewest 
 
 the love I bear to thee ! 
 Would gods the wretch would cause thee bear 
 
 again like love to me ! 
 Why, Lamphedon ! thou knowest not what she 
 
 is ; perchance a princess born : 
 Ha, cruel words ! I then am sure she will hold 
 
 me in scorn. 
 How dare I then attempt the thing? How 
 
 dare I then be bold? 
 How dare I once presume to her my sorrows 
 
 to unfold? 
 Would God, when first I took my way, the 
 
 pleasant chase to view, 
 I had been slain through cruel pain : then 
 
 should not this ensue. 
 \Vould gods these eyes of mine, which gives 
 
 my body light, 
 When first they viewed thy comely grace, they 
 
 had been plucked out quite. 
 For if Apclles, he, were present here in place, 
 Unpossiblc it were aright to picture forth thy 
 
 grace. 
 But sith that Cupid will not force her, for to 
 
 yield me love, 
 Would gods, by other practices, her answers I 
 
 might prove. 
 Or by some secret way, and hidden strange 
 
 device. 
 
 Here enter Conditions, standing privily.
 
 200 Common Conditiotu 
 
 [Co]nditions. To meddle with witchcraft I 
 
 count you not wise. 
 [Lamjphedon. What wight art thou that 
 
 answerest me in such a kind of sort? 
 [Co]nditions. It is hard winning of the city 
 
 without scahng the fort. 
 [Lam]phedon. Scahng the fort? I go not 
 
 about the city to win. 
 [Co]nditions. Yea ! but, as far as I can see, 
 
 Cupid hath hit the pin. 
 [Lam]phedon. What wight art thou that in 
 
 such sort dost seem for to reply? 
 [Con]ditions. He that is by Cupid pos- 
 sessed, of force must sorrow try. 
 [Lam]phedon. I hear a voice correcting, 
 
 yet no living wight I see. 
 [Con]ditions. He that trusts to a broken 
 
 bough may hap to fall from the tree. 
 [Lam]phedon. Ha, wretch ! what so thou 
 
 be, I would I had thee here. 
 [Con]ditions. In vain 'tis, when dogs are 
 
 weary, to wish after the deer. 
 lLa-m]phedon. Nay sure, wretch ! if I had 
 
 thee here, thou forcest me to do it. 
 [Con]ditions. Nay, with a good will, I be- 
 seech you, spare not ! go to it ! 
 But if I should stir ever a foot from this place, 
 He might soon spy me, and then after me 
 
 would he apace. 
 There is no remedy but to him I must, and 
 
 banish fear away ; [fool to play. 
 
 For, in vain it is from hence to depart, or the 
 Ha, noble gentleman ! God save your life, for 
 
 ever to remain ! 
 [Lam]phedon. We[l]come, my friend ! didst 
 
 thou reply, when I did late complain?
 
 Common Conditions 201 
 
 [Conjditions. No, g-entleman ! I am no such 
 fellow, as you take me tor, I ; 
 He deserves death that any gentleman's talk 
 would so descry. 
 Lamphe[don.] Of truth, if that I had him 
 
 here, his death he sure should gain. 
 Conditi[ons.] And worthy, for deriding such 
 a gentleman, to be slain. 
 [Aside.] If he knew that I had answered him, 
 
 contrary to every word. 
 He would go near to thrust me through the 
 
 buttocks with his sword ! 
 But let Conditions alone ; howsoever this gear 
 
 falls out. 
 
 He will use a policy to bring this matter well 
 
 about. [plainly see 
 
 Now, this gear cottons law ; now, shall you 
 
 Which way soever the wind blows, it is for my 
 
 commodity. [this stay, 
 
 Ha, noble gentleman ! I am sorry to see you at 
 
 That at the first sight of a lady you should 
 
 thus pine away. 
 
 Lamph[edon.] Why, good fellow ! how 
 
 knowest thou my grief? to me express ! 
 Condit[ions.] He that hath felt love's bitter 
 
 storms must needs the truth confess. 
 Lamph[edon.] And hast thou been a lover? 
 
 I pray thee, now declare ! 
 Condit[ions.] Who, I? That have I been — 
 in love with my own mother's mare ! 
 But, what say you to him that would help you 
 
 unto that dame. 
 Who causeth you thus, ruthfully, these sorrows 
 for to frame? 
 Lamph[edon.] What say I? (quod you!) I 
 say he is worthy to have
 
 202 Common Conditions 
 
 The thing that with tongue is unpossible to 
 
 crave. 
 But, my friend ! I pray thee express and show 
 to me thy name. 
 Condi[tions.] Master Affection, noble gentle- 
 man ! even the very same. 
 Lamph[edon.] Master Affection ! ha, ye 
 gods ! now see I, if it you please, 
 It lieth in your hands my sorrows for to ease. 
 Condi[tions.] Command me even what you 
 
 list, and I'll do what I please. 
 Lamph[edon.] What sayest thou? 
 Condi[tions.] I say : command me what you 
 
 list, and I'll do what you please. 
 
 Lamph[edon.] I command thee to do nothing, 
 
 but to aid me herein, [but win : 
 
 That I the lady's love through thy help may 
 
 "Which if thou canst do through policy and 
 
 skill, [thy will. 
 
 Demand what thou wilt, thou shalt have it at 
 
 Cond[itions.] If I can do it, quod you? what 
 
 kind of question is that? 
 
 Nay! put away if; for, I can do it — this is 
 
 plain and flat : 
 
 And, therefore, noble Lamphedon ! you shall 
 
 wend with me, [to see. 
 
 Where secretly you shall stand, her person for 
 
 Then shall you hear by her communication 
 
 there, [bear ; 
 
 What good will affection can cause her to 
 
 Wherefore, noble knight, come let us away. 
 
 [La]mphedon. Proceed, Affection, on thy 
 
 way, for I mind not to stay ! 
 [Co]nditions. You are the better man ; there- 
 fore you shall first proceed. 
 [Lam]phedon. Tush, tush, Affection ! all 
 this courtesy doth not need. Exit.
 
 Common Conditions 203 
 
 [Co]nditions. Ha, ha, ha ! this gear falls 
 
 out excellent well indeed : 
 Well fare a crafty knave at a time of need. 
 Affection, quod you? why, what a counterfeit 
 
 knave am I, 
 Thus under the title of Affection my conditions 
 
 to apply. 
 As thoug-h it lay in me to cause such for to 
 
 love? 
 
 No, no ! there is another that this practice did 
 
 prove : 
 For Clarisia, seeing this Lamphedon a-hunting 
 
 in the chase, 
 Was nigh constrained through Cupid's force, 
 
 to sue to him for grace. 
 Now I, coming this ways, the game for to see, 
 Chanced to hear him for her sake in woful 
 
 state to be : 
 I will bring them together, sure ! howsoever it 
 
 falls out ; [not doubt. 
 
 For, at length, it will redown to my profit, I do 
 Room for a turncoat ! that will turn as the 
 
 wind ; 
 Whom, when a man thinks surest, he knows 
 
 not where to find. .Exit. 
 
 Here entereth Clarisia alone. 
 [Clar]isia. The lur6d hawk, whose rolling 
 
 eyes are fixed on partridge fast, 
 And lives in hope, her flight once ta'en, to win 
 
 her prey at last : [forest here 
 
 So I through sight of valiant knight within this 
 Have fixed my eye, until I die, upon Lamphe- 
 don dear. 
 Ha, valiant knight ! whose comely corps hath 
 
 won my heart for ever, 
 Whose sight hatfh] prr-sscd my tender breast, 
 
 that I shall fail thee never :
 
 204 Common Conditioas 
 
 What double griefs feel I for thee? what woes 
 
 do I sustain? 
 What heaps of care in tender breast for thy 
 
 sweet sake doth reign? [this case, 
 
 Ha, Lamphedon ! do pity here thy captive in 
 And grant that she obtain of thee thy favour 
 
 and thy grace. [cunning show ; 
 
 Let not blind Cupid, wrongfully, on me his 
 Let not my love forsaken be, which I to thee 
 
 do owe ; [another ; 
 
 Let not thy mind clean contrary be settled on 
 Ha, Cupid, blinded god of Love ! take not the 
 
 tone for tother, 
 Sith that thou forcedst me to love — ha, mighty 
 
 gods ! grant me 
 That I may once obtain his love, his linkW 
 
 spouse to be ! [son ; 
 
 But ha, Clarisia ! thy talk is vain ; he is a duke's 
 And thou, but daughter to a knight, of meaner 
 
 state art come. [good will ; 
 
 He forceth not thy love, he weighs not thy 
 Wherefore, refrain with cruel pain, and live a 
 
 lover still. 
 
 Here entereth Lamphedon suddenly. 
 Lamph[edon.] What needeth further trial 
 
 then, when judge hath heard the tale? 
 What needs there further plea in case, when 
 
 agreements doth assail? 
 What needs the turtle wish her mate, and she 
 
 in place doth stand? 
 What need have knights, for lady[s'] sights, 
 
 to range in foreign land? 
 What need I for to sue to thee, thy love for to 
 
 obtain, 
 O lady dear ! and seeing that for me thou dost 
 
 complain?
 
 ConuDon Conditions 205 
 
 Lamphedon doth profess he will, to thee, be 
 
 faithful knight ; 
 Not once for to forsake thy love, for wrong ne 
 
 yet for right : [here again, 
 
 And therefore, lady, yield to me like promise 
 To rest to me, as I to thee, a lover true certain. 
 Wherefore, O lady ! answer me, to this my 
 
 question, straight. 
 Clarisia. The silly fish that once is ta'en, 
 
 must yield unto the bait ; 
 Wherefore, sir knight ! right welcome sure 
 
 unto Clarisia, she, 
 Who almost felt of Pluto's pains, and all for 
 
 love of thee. 
 If all the Trojan knights were here, or Grecian 
 
 in like case, [in every place, 
 
 Whose valiant courage did surpass each wight 
 Clarisia doth protest, as she is lady true, 
 To rest thy love, while life endure, hap so what 
 
 shall ensue. 
 And therefore, my sweet loving knight ! have 
 
 no mistrust in me, [thee. 
 
 For I do whole betake myself unto the use of 
 So that thou wilt perform the bonds of wedlock 
 
 in this case, [sure, embrace. 
 
 I am content that none but thou my corps shall, 
 Wherefore, sir knight ! reply again, are you 
 
 herein content? 
 Lamph\edon.] Else all the powers that sits 
 
 in throne do end with cruel dent 
 My youthful days, and after that with Pluto 
 
 let me reign, 
 Whereas the grisly hags do rest, with treble 
 
 care and pain. 
 And thcrrforf, lady ! here is my hand, eke faith 
 
 and troth I give,
 
 3o6 Common Conditions 
 
 To rest and be thy loving knight, whilst I have 
 
 day to live : 
 In sign whereof take here this gem, and wear 
 
 it for my sake. 
 Clarisi[a.] Upon condition, noble knight I 
 
 the same of thee I take. 
 But yet receive, of lady thine, a pledge for 
 
 pledge again 
 In token that, for aye, I rest thy love without 
 
 disdain : 
 The which bracelet is made of gold — receive 
 
 that with good will, 
 And all that doth belong to me shall rest as 
 
 thine own still ; 
 Wherefore, sir knight ! receive the same of me, 
 
 thy lady dear. 
 [Lam]phedon. I shall, O lady ! for your 
 
 sake even place it present herej 
 And till I die, I surely will wear it for love of 
 
 thine. 
 [Clar]isia. And this shall rest in keeping 
 
 mine, till days my life define. 
 [Lani]phedon. Well, lady ! then my wife you 
 
 are before the gods, you see. 
 [Clar]isia. I am and will remain, my dear, 
 
 a true Penelope ; 
 Though I, for thy sweet sake, my knight! a 
 
 thousand woes should prove, [her love. 
 
 I would remain as true to thee, as she did to 
 
 [Lam]phedon. And, lady, as true will I 
 
 still rest to thee, 
 As Leander did, that swam over the sea. 
 Wherefore, O lady ! wend with me unto my 
 
 father's place. 
 Where we will soon there married be, if that 
 
 the powers grant grace;
 
 Common Conditions 207 
 
 Wherefore, my dear Clarisia, let us no longer 
 
 stay. 
 [Clar]isia. To follow you, whereso it be, 
 
 Clarisia shall obey : 
 Therefore, proceed when you think best ! 
 
 [Lam]phedon. To wait upon Clarisia Lam- 
 
 phedon aye is prest. Exeunt. 
 
 Here enter Conditions suddenly. 
 [^Conlditions. God give you joy, I heartily 
 
 pray, and send you both good luck, 
 And if I might, you should be sure to have 
 
 horns like a buck ! 
 \_ClaY]isiu. Why, how now, Conditions ! 
 
 where hast thou been all this while? 
 \^Con^ditions. Ha ! I chanced to fall asleep, 
 
 as I was lifting my leg over a stile. 
 \Clari\sia. And was that the matter thou 
 
 stayedst so long behind? 
 \_Con']ditions. In faith ! I have slept so long 
 
 that both mine eyes are almost blind. 
 \Lam\phedon. What, master Affection ! of 
 
 truth, you are welcome; how fare you 
 
 now? 
 [Con]dih'on5. Even In good health, noble 
 
 gentleman ! how do you? 
 \_Clari]sia. Affection? ye are misinformed; 
 
 Conditions is his name ! 
 [Con^ditions. By the mass ! except I 
 
 answer wisely, it will tend to my shame. 
 \^lMni\phedon. I am sure his name is Affec- 
 tion, let him deny it if he will ! 
 \^Con\ditions. Unto any of those two names 
 
 I must needs answer still ; 
 For Affection my sure name is, this is plain; 
 But Conditions my kirson name is : to either of 
 
 these twain
 
 3o8 Common Conditions 
 
 Answer I will, though it turn to my grief. 
 Believe me, gentleman ; if I lie, hang me like a 
 thief 1 
 [Clari]sia. Nay, we believe thee, Condi- 
 tions I without farther talk. 
 [Con]ditions. Well, then, will it please you 
 
 on your journey for to walk? 
 [Clari]sia. Why, Conditions ! what journey, 
 
 think you, have we to go? 
 [Cond]itions. Nay, let those that are lovers 
 
 judge that ; I say no mo. 
 Lamphedon. I perceive he will prove a 
 
 fox if you talk with him long. 
 Clarisia. Who takes him for any other 
 
 should proffer him much wrong. 
 Condit[ions.] Nay, Mistress Clarisia ! if 
 time convenient would serve, 
 I could prove that women commonly that name 
 
 doth most deserve. 
 But if you please to depart I ready am on you 
 to wait. 
 Lamph[edon.] Come, lady ! for we intend 
 
 from hence to wend straight. 
 [Clarisia.] Proceed, my dear, for Clarisia is 
 pressed to fulfil [will. 
 
 Your mind in every respect, according to your 
 Wherefore, Conditions, come and wait still on 
 us ! [Exit. 
 
 Condit[ions.] Nay, if I be behind, then hang 
 me as high as the house ! 
 Ha! are they gone? was ever knave beset in 
 dain so before? [more.: 
 
 Affection, quod you? well fare at a pinch ever- 
 For if I had not roundly answered to my 
 counterfeit name, [shame. 
 
 It would surely have redounded to my utter
 
 Conunon Conditions 209 
 
 But howsoever the world goes, parasite's part 
 
 I must play, [way. 
 
 For to get my living- I can find no other kind of 
 Well, I must after to the Duke's place, even 
 
 as fast as I may ; 
 But in the end, mark ! how the crafty knave's 
 
 part I will play. 
 
 Here enter Sabia alone. 
 Sabia. Like as the rat that once hath taste 
 
 of resalgar or bane 
 Runs presently to some moist place, to cool her 
 
 poisoned pain : 
 So I, being possessed (alas !) through Cupid's 
 
 direful dent, 
 Doth live in pining state for aye, that life is 
 
 well-nigh spent. 
 Ha, sweet Nomides ! who causer art of this my 
 
 grief and woe, [to forego : 
 
 For Cupid, he, hath forced me all pleasures 
 In that unegally at me his poisoned shaft hath 
 
 raught. 
 To cause me set my love on him, who will set 
 
 me at naught. [summer's day; 
 
 But for his sake I fade, as doth the flowers in 
 I pine as doth the merlin, she, that could not 
 
 win her prey ; [state ; 
 
 I grieve, I wail my luckless lot, I am in woful 
 I find no way that may impair, or this my 
 
 sorrows bate. [comely face ; 
 
 I curse may, sure, the time that I did view thy 
 I know, right well, in vain it is to sue to thee 
 
 for grace. [able cry ; 
 
 I pierce the heavens with my dole and lament- 
 I crave of blind Cupido, he, my suit not to deny. 
 Why was it not my chance, alas ! a princess for 
 
 to be? 
 A. p. IV. p
 
 210 Common Conditiong 
 
 Why was my fortune to be born of base and 
 
 low degree? 
 Why was it, ah ! my destiny to be a phy- 
 sician's child? 
 Why was it not my fortune, ha ! to come of 
 
 stock so mild 
 Whereby I mought enjoy thy love? ha, worthy 
 
 knight, most stout, 
 Whose comeliness doth far surpass the knights 
 
 of Phrygia route ; 
 Which causeth me through fervency to crave of 
 
 thee thy love, 
 Though womanhood denies the same, and doth 
 
 me sore disprove. 
 Well, here enters he himself alone; now help, 
 
 ye gods of night ! 
 And grant that I obtain my suit, which I de- 
 served by right. 
 But first, I will go shroud myself in corner 
 
 secretly. 
 To hear if that for any one he will seem to 
 
 reply. 
 
 Here enter sir Nomides. 
 [Nom]ides. Though raging storms of 
 
 winter's force hath done their worst to 
 
 spoil. 
 Though Boreas with his boisterous blasts doth 
 
 range in every soil, 
 Though clotted hard Acarnan's frost doth 
 
 freeze on dale and hill, 
 Yet can the warmed southern wind their 
 
 raging forces kill. 
 Though Fortune she did frown on me, and 
 
 wrought for me such fate. 
 Yet, at the last, all storms once past, she 
 
 smiles on mine estate;
 
 Common Conditions 211 
 
 Though banished I from country soil and 
 
 native kinsfolk dear, 
 Yet hath the powers assigned to me a knightly 
 
 living here ; 
 Whereas I lead my life at rest, where I mind 
 
 to remain, [twain. 
 
 Until the sisters cut the thread of vital life in 
 As for my usual name is turned, and for ever 
 
 will forsake, [estate, 
 
 And term myself Sir Nomides, a knigKl of low 
 Whereby I quietly may rest, and live at ease 
 
 for aye ; [to my decay. 
 
 But contrary, if known I were, it would turn 
 But for to think of father mine, it grieves my 
 
 careful breast, 
 That he should range in countries strange, and 
 
 I should live at rest. [left behind 
 
 And eke farewell, my sister dear, whom I have 
 In cruel tyrants' murdering hands, thy life end 
 
 for to find : [fled away, 
 
 I cannot choose but must accurse the time I 
 And left thee so behind to rest, unto thy foes a 
 
 prey. [of shame 
 
 I cannot but must needs confess, I worthy am 
 In leaving thee a prey to those that soon thy 
 
 death did frame : [to thee, 
 
 A cruel brother, mought thou say, I did remain 
 That like a dastard fled away when I thy 
 
 guard should be. 
 
 Well, in vain it is for to repine ; sith that the 
 
 powers are bent [well content. 
 
 To work their fury on them twain, I must be 
 
 Sabia. Well met, sir knight ! thus solitary 
 
 in fields, yourself alone. 
 Nomides. I am pensive, lady 1 but yet wel- 
 come to me as any one. 
 
 p 2
 
 212 Common Conditions 
 
 Sahia. Not so, sir knight ! I think you bear 
 
 to ladies no such love. 
 Nomid[es.] My lady! how know you that? 
 
 you did me never prove. 
 Sabia. She that should prove, I think, 
 
 should find in you some subtle guile. 
 Nomid[es.] You women, sure, are full of 
 
 that, though oftentimes you smile ! 
 Sabia. We women? nay ! in men you would 
 
 say, for women mean too true. 
 Nomid[es.] Say you so, lady? for experi- 
 ence then mark, what words ensue ! 
 Sabia. Speak forth your mind, I am con- 
 tent, if so you will not fain. 
 Nomid[es.] If so I do, lady, I doubt not 
 
 but you will reply again. 
 Sabia. And reason good, if wrongfully, you 
 
 women would disprove. 
 Nomid[es.] Not wrongfully, but rightfully 
 I shall express your love. 
 And therefore, lady, hear my talk, that I in 
 
 brief shall speak ; 
 And after, if you please, again reply, your 
 
 mind to break. 
 First, what love, I pray you, bare Helena unto 
 
 her lord and king? 
 What constancy in Cressida did rest in every- 
 thing? 
 What love, I pray you, bear Phaedra unto her 
 Theseus, [polytus? 
 
 When in his absence she desired his son Hip- 
 What true love eke bare Medea unto Duke 
 Jason, he? [ceitful be. 
 
 Tush, lady! in vain it is to talk; they all de- 
 And therefore, lady ! you must yield to me in 
 that respect :
 
 Common Conditions 213 
 
 Men still are just, though women must their 
 
 plighted vows neglect. 
 Sabia. Must? why, belike you think it 
 
 comes to them by course of kind ! 
 Nomides. Not I, myself, do say the same, 
 
 but in authors I it find. 
 Sabia. In authors then you have an aid for 
 
 to dispute with me? 
 But, for all your aid, in way of jest again I 
 
 will reply 
 If so you will attentive be to that I here shall 
 
 speak. 
 Nomi[des.] With willing heart I do agree 
 
 that you your mind shall break. 
 Sabia. Then, sir knight ! how faithful was 
 
 /Eneas to Dido's grace? 
 To whom he plighted faith by vow, none other 
 
 to embrace. 
 How faithful was Duke Jason, he, whom 
 
 Medea did aid 
 When he, to win the golden fleece, by Otus was 
 
 dismayed? 
 And Theseus, I pray you, also, how faithful 
 
 did he bide 
 When that the vow he once had made to 
 
 Ariadne he denied? [Greekish crew? 
 
 How faithful was Diomedes, one of the 
 Though Troilus therein was just, yet was he 
 
 found untrue : [luckless hap, 
 
 And so, between those twain and fortune's 
 She was, like Lazar, fain to sit and beg with 
 
 dish and clap. 
 Tush, tush ! you see to trust in men, whose 
 
 fickle brains are so 
 That at the first sight of every wight their 
 
 plighted vows forego;
 
 214 Common Conditions 
 
 And, therefore, you must weigh in mind though 
 
 women sometime miss, 
 Men will do so, though to their woe it doth 
 ensue I wis. 
 [N]omides. Indeed, lady ! I must confess 
 
 that you the truth have said. 
 Sabia. Then say that you were conquered 
 
 in talking with a maid. 
 [N]omides. Nay, lady ! he that talks with 
 you, until the field he gain, 
 Should prove the labour he should take both 
 
 frustrate, fond and vain. 
 For, why, though men can win in field both 
 
 honour, praise and fame. 
 Yea women, by their subtle sleights, full soon 
 
 their deaths can frame : 
 And therefore, lady ! I must grant you are too 
 
 strong for me. 
 And if I were a judge, certain ye women should 
 lawyers be. 
 [Sajbia. Women? why, then what would 
 
 you have poor witness men to say? 
 [No]mides. To stand and hear, and judge 
 
 aright upon the women's play. 
 [Sa]bia. Well, then shall you be a judge to 
 
 that which I in place shall speak. 
 [Nolmides. Well then, proceed, and let me 
 
 hear what words you mean to break. 
 
 [Sab]ia. There was a ship that chanced to 
 
 sail athwart the raging sea[s], [at ease, 
 
 And, being in the midst thereof, at anchor and 
 
 In sudden there arose a storm, and silly bark 
 
 so tossed, [were lost. 
 
 In such a raging kind of sort, that anchors all 
 
 Now anchors being gone, and cables in like 
 
 case,
 
 Common Conditions 
 
 2IS 
 
 The silly bark by tumbling waves was tossed 
 
 from place to place : [luckless day, 
 
 The mariners did quake for fear to see that 
 
 That to the gods with humble suit they all 
 
 began to pray. [lamentable cry, 
 
 The gods then, hearing of their plaint and 
 Did drive them straight by force of wind unto 
 
 an haven by : 
 Whereas they hope for aye to rest, if powers 
 
 do grant them grace. 
 Lo now, sir knight, judge you aright on this 
 
 my wished case. 
 [Nom]ide5. Nay, lady ! if you put so hard 
 
 demands unto your judge at first. 
 He must have time to pause thereon, lest he 
 
 should judge at worst. 
 Then would you put some blame in him and 
 
 say he did you wrong. 
 Therefore, he gives the judgment to yourself 
 
 that are so strong : [require. 
 
 Good lady ! let me hear the same, I heartily 
 
 [5abia.] In hope to have my wished will, 
 
 you shall have your desire. [sir knight ! 
 The ship which I spake of before is I myself, 
 And being once inflamed, alas ! by Cupid's 
 
 raging slight, 
 Was tossed on waves of wrathful woe, and all 
 
 for thy sweet love. [g'ods above 
 
 I forced was, with humble suit, to crave of 
 To send to me some pleasant time, that I with 
 
 you mought talk. 
 Where now it was my chance, sir knight, to 
 
 find you in this walk : [love, 
 
 I forced am, of fervency, to crave of you your 
 And eke to set all shame aside your good will 
 
 for to prove.
 
 21 6 Common Conditions 
 
 Grant me, therefore, O worthy knijjht ! that 
 
 none but only I [shall die : 
 
 Shall thee possess for lovingf fere, until we both 
 Refuse me not,, that am thy friend, who loves 
 
 thee as her life, [only wife. 
 
 And grant that none but Sabia shall be thy 
 Lo this is all, O worthy knight ! that I of thee 
 
 require ; 
 Forsake not thy dear lady's suit, but grant 
 
 to her desire ! 
 Nomid[es.] Madame ! the heart that once 
 
 is fixed or set, and hath that likes him 
 
 best. 
 What needs it for to seek for more, to breed 
 
 his more unrest? [have; 
 
 My heart is fixed upon the thing that I already 
 And therefore, lady, in vain it is of me such 
 
 love to crave. [Venus' train, 
 
 I am none such that lives by love, I serve not 
 I force not of blind Cupid, he, I hold him in 
 
 disdain ; 
 Though poets term him aged, and say he 
 
 shoots from sky — [here deny. 
 
 The which, by good experience, I straight shall 
 Lust, favouring folly fond, did falsely forge 
 
 and fain [more attain. 
 
 Love for a god, because he mought his freedom 
 And, therefore, leave" off suit, and crave no 
 
 love of me ; [lover be ; 
 
 Whilst I have life, this is certain : 1 will no 
 And therefore, lady, now adieu ! Exit. 
 
 Sahia. A woe be to the time that first I did 
 
 begin to sue ; 
 Now, farewell all my hope of him, whom I 
 
 thought to enjoy ; [great annoy. 
 
 Whose sight it was that forced me to wail with
 
 Common Conditions 217 
 
 Ah, cruel god of Love ! O crafty, cankered 
 
 wight ! 
 That wrecks thy fury upon me, and touchest 
 
 not that knight. 
 Ah, Sir Nomides, whilst I do live in joy. 
 None other shall attain my love, though it 
 
 breed mine annoy : 
 And still will I encroach on thee, thy only love 
 
 to have. 
 Though for thy sake I should betake myself to 
 
 woful grave. Exit. 
 
 Here entereth Conditions. 
 Cond[itions.] Ah, ah, ah ! this gear cottons; 
 
 I may say to you 
 I have wrought a fetch to set them by the ears, 
 
 hap what shall ensue. 
 By my honesty ! it doth me good that I so 
 
 crafty should be. 
 For the Duchess is fallen out with Clarisia, 
 
 'long of me. 
 For I told certain of her waiting maids how 
 
 the people, in each place, 
 Gives Clarisia the praise, and says she excels 
 
 the Duchess' grace : 
 Which, when she heard, so chafed that it was 
 
 strange to behold. 
 On the other side Lamphedon would not have 
 
 his lady controlled. 
 Thus have I set them together by the ears, hap 
 
 what hap shall ; [shall fall : 
 
 And mark the end of this gear, which way it 
 For Clarisia, having an uncle Montanio, king 
 
 of Thrace, 
 Will no longer here abide, but straightways 
 
 thither will trace. [p'"g to provide 
 
 And now [at] the sea coast have I been, ship-
 
 ai8 Common Conditions 
 
 For my Master Lamphedon and Clarisia, 
 
 against the next tide — 
 I must away ; room for a cutter that is every 
 
 inch a man ; [he can ! 
 
 A villain that will set a thousand by the ears, if 
 
 Here entereth Lamphedon and Clarisia. 
 [Lam]phedon. Clarisia, and my dear wife 
 
 before the gods by vow. 
 With listing ear do mark, in brief, what I shall 
 
 say to you. 
 Though mother mine, the Duchess, she such 
 
 rigour seems to show. 
 And all for the good will which I to you do 
 
 bear and owe, [siveness aside; 
 
 Let not the same dismay your mind ; cast pen- 
 For, till that life be ta'en from me, my truth 
 
 shall, sure, be tried : 
 And, therefore, lady, seem not to depart — I 
 
 think it best. 
 [Clari]sia. Ah, my Lamphedon dear ! leave 
 
 off, and grant thy love's request. 
 Seem not to stay with lady thine in Phrygia to 
 
 her woe, [let us go : 
 
 But come and wend we, presently — to Thracia 
 For my uncle, Montanio, king of Thrace, hath 
 
 sent for me, 
 And in his letter he hath sent, my loving 
 
 knight, for thee; [tinent; 
 
 Desiring us to come to him, and that incon- 
 For, why, he hath no child alive, we know not 
 
 his intent : 
 Perchance, my dear, he will bestow on us some 
 
 goods or wealth, [and health. 
 
 Whereas we may more quiet live in perfect joy 
 And so our absence may, in time, obtain your 
 
 mother's love.
 
 Common Conditions 219 
 
 Whereas our presence, being here, to anger 
 
 doth her move : 
 Wherefore, my love ! deny me not, but let us 
 
 hence depart. 
 [Lamph]edon. Ah, cruel mother to thy 
 
 child ! chief cause of this his smart ! 
 Must I from liked soil depart, on seas in ship 
 
 to sail? 
 Where oftentimes through force of waves the 
 
 carved planks do fail : 
 Must lady mine taste the like wrong? Ah, 
 
 cruel parents, sure, 
 That to your only son you could such heaps 
 
 of care procure ! 
 
 Here entereth Conditions suddenly. 
 Condit[ions.] God's arms ! are ye yet here? 
 
 I have been seeking you all about, 
 To certify you of news, which are so true, out 
 
 of doubt : 
 The Duke, your father, hath made great search 
 
 for you twain, [plain, 
 
 And doth intend to imprison you both ; this is 
 And all upon the request of the Duchess; if you 
 
 do not fly [die : 
 
 I am afraid you and your lady are like for to 
 And, therefore, of all loves come, come, let us 
 
 away ! 
 Lamphledon.] Conditions, come hither, 
 
 man! and awhile do thou stay; 
 I pray thee, tell me, is it true that thou dost 
 
 now say? 
 Condit[ions.] What a mad man are you? 
 
 Take me with a lie, [example thereby. 
 
 And whip mc, that all villains may take 
 
 Lamphcldan.] Ah, cruel parents to your 
 
 child ! and would you seek his death?
 
 220 Common Conditions 
 
 And can your hearts agree in one, to stop his 
 
 vital breath? 
 Ah, heavens ! shall man in cruelty pass the 
 
 lion fierce in field, 
 Which can compel each living beast unto his 
 
 strength to yield? [^ny wrong; 
 
 Yet the lion doubts to slay his whelp, or do it 
 The serpent with the tiger eke, which are both 
 
 fierce and strong. 
 Will never seem, at any time, their younglings 
 
 for to grieve, 
 But will them nourish tenderly, till they have 
 
 strength to live. [cruel sire? 
 
 Is Nature clean exiled quite from thee, my 
 Is pity put from out thy mind, to wreak on us 
 
 thy ire? 
 Is fatherly love clean gone from thee? is mercy 
 
 not in mind? [kind? 
 
 Is cruelty crept into thee, that thou art so un- 
 Ah, God's ! now, farewell Phrygia soil ! fare- 
 well aye parents twain ! [cruel pain. 
 Who seeks to put my love and me to death and 
 Ah, my beloved Clarisia ! I wail to think of 
 
 thee, 
 That thou shouldst sustain such wrong for love 
 
 thou bearest me : 
 Impute unto thy loving knight no blame for 
 
 this, my dear ! 
 For gladly, if I could, I would have tarried 
 
 with thee here. 
 Condit[ions.] Here? then were you unwise, 
 
 if here you would stay, 'tis plain, 
 To have your lady and yourself of all holden in 
 
 disdain : 
 And, therefore, without further talk, let us 
 
 abide no longer here;
 
 Common Conditions 221 
 
 If you do, I am afraid you are like to buy 
 your tarrying dear. 
 Lamp[hedon.] Well then, Conditions, I 
 pray thee, with speed our shipping pre- 
 pare. 
 [Co]tiditions. Tush, tush ! this is already 
 done, let that be the least end of your care. 
 And, therefore, of all loves, let us be gone, 
 lest unwares we be ta'en ! [depart amain ! 
 Mistress Clarisia ! of all loves, persuade him to 
 [Clar]isia. Ah, my Lamphedon ! wend we 
 hence incontinent with speed ; [decreed. 
 For, why, to work our final end they fully have 
 You need not fear for want of ship ; Conditions 
 hath been there [prepare : 
 
 At the sea coast already, sure, our shipping to 
 And, therefore, let us hence depart, and that 
 incontinent. 
 [Lani^phedon. Well then, let us depart, my 
 
 dear ! sith that you are so bent. 
 
 [Con\ditions. Are they gone? Conditions? 
 
 Nay ! Double Conditions is my name, 
 
 That for mine own advantage such dealings 
 
 can frame. [king. 
 
 Nay ! if we come in court again to serve a 
 
 Hang me, if I give not a thousand of them the 
 
 fling! 
 To Thracia, quod you? There could be no 
 
 better journey for me : 
 Well, I must be gone, for I can never be well 
 till 1 a-shipboard be. 
 
 The Mariners within. 
 [Ma]ster. Ha la, boys ! a baste ! there cast 
 
 haulser ! a land ! 
 [.^/«]s<. Mate. V'ccr, veer, come no near, 
 lest we ground on the sand !
 
 332 Common Conditionr 
 
 [Boatlswain. Launch out the cock, boys, 
 
 and set the Master a-shore ! 
 [Mast. Mat]e. The cock is launched, each 
 
 man to his oar ! 
 [Con]ditions. Hark ! here comes our 
 
 mariners to seek for Lamphedon and 
 
 Clarisia, she 
 Who, I am sure, by this time already a-ship- 
 
 board be. 
 [Ma]ster. A-shore, a-shore ! each man on 
 
 the land ! 
 [Majif. Mate. Boy, come up ! and ground 
 
 the cock on the sand. 
 [Con]ditions. Twenty pound to a penny 
 
 they are pirates that lands here about. 
 Ha ! I am beset in such a sort that I cannot 
 
 get in nor out : 
 There is no remedy, but I must stand to my 
 
 tackling, hap good or ill : 
 I must needs draw ; but if I fight, it shall be 
 
 against my will. 
 
 Here entereth the Pirates with a song. 
 [Mas]ter. Ha ! courageous, my mates, and 
 
 excellent well done ! 
 [Ma]5f. Mate. By Gog's blood, Master ! we 
 
 were happy when to rob we begun. 
 [B oat]swain. It doth me good to see what 
 
 booties we have had on the seas. 
 Which redounds to our profit, though to others 
 
 disease. 
 [Shipboy.] Though I be but shipboy, I must 
 
 needs speak my mind : 
 If the whole seas were searched such a shipful 
 
 of thieves you could not find. 
 [Boatswain.] Speak soft, goodman boy I 
 
 lest we be espied.
 
 Common Conditions 223 
 
 Condit[ions.] What, pirates? Nay! incon- 
 tinent I will have that tried. 
 Gog's wounds defend ye! for I'll take you all 
 
 myself. 
 Master. Wilt thou so? Nay, none but the 
 
 shipboy shall deal with the elf ! 
 Condi[tions.] With a boy? if thou be men, 
 
 draw ! and come try with me all. 
 Mast. M[ate.] Wilt thou so? By Gog's 
 
 blood ! this is a bold enterprise of a squall. 
 Boatsw[am.] Well, sith he will needs, I'll 
 
 deal with him myself, hand to hand. 
 Condit[ions.] Come on then ! strike it out at 
 
 length ! but what ! are you mariners? 
 I will not deal then with you, for all this land ; 
 For they be good fellows, they be no quar- 
 
 rellers. 
 Boatswlain.] Why not with mariners, I 
 
 pray thee? Come let us try it out. 
 Condif[ions.] Stay thy hand; it shall not be 
 
 so, to put thee out of doubt : 
 Were it with dry water soldiers I would deal, 
 
 if here were a score ; 
 For I have dealt with forty at a time, and more. 
 Boatswlain.] Then it were too much for me 
 
 to deal with you alone. 
 Condi[tions.] That is true; for, of a little 
 
 man, where I hit, I break the bone. 
 Ma5fe[r.] I pray you, sir, show us why you 
 
 bear mariners such good will. 
 Condi[tions.] Because I am a mariner my- 
 self, and have excellent good skill. 
 Boatsu'lain.] And have you such excellent 
 
 good skill indeed? 
 Then why, like a landman, go you in such a 
 
 weed?
 
 224 Common Conditions 
 
 Condi[tions.] Lest the good deeds, which I 
 
 have done on the seas, 
 Redound to my small comfort and ease. 
 
 Boatsw[ain.] Why, then it seems, by thy 
 
 talk, thou hast been a pirate or this? 
 Condi[tions.] Yea, in faith ! have I, and 
 
 that knows mariners' ships I-wis. 
 Maste[r.] By Gog's blood ! I will have him 
 
 a-shipboard, or else I will die. 
 Condi[tiuns.] That is enough; I'll take you 
 
 at your word, seeing there is no remedy. 
 Will you have me a-shipboard, whether I will 
 
 or no? 
 Maste[r.] Yea, surely ! defend thee ! for I 
 
 intend so. 
 Condi[tions.'] Stay, stay ! shall I be a 
 
 sharer if quietly I go with you aboard? 
 All. There is our hands, we will make thee 
 
 our captain, at a word. 
 Condi[tions.] Ah, captain ! here is my hand 
 
 to go with you, as is your desire. 
 But it were uncomely to play the seaman in 
 
 landman's attire. 
 Mast[cr.] No more thou shalt, for our other 
 
 captain is dead. 
 And thou shalt have his attire, and his room, 
 
 and lie in his bed. 
 Cond[itions.] Well then, come on ! and let 
 
 us a-shipboard, straight ! 
 All. We are all ready on our captain for to 
 
 wait. 
 Cond[itions.] But, sirs ! there is a booty 
 
 towards, if ye follow my advice, [wise. 
 
 And go to work withal, and show yourselves 
 
 All. What is that, captain? Declare to us 
 
 all!
 
 Common Conditions 225 
 
 [C]onditions. It is a prey that will enrich 
 both great and small, [a lady, 
 
 And 'tis this : there is a certain gentleman with 
 
 Ready shipped to sail into Thrace, 
 
 With great abundance of riches and wealth ; 
 
 Now, if we could get into their way by stealth, 
 
 We should have such a booty, that we never 
 had such another. 
 [Bo]atswain. By Gog's blood ! he is an ex- 
 cellent captain, and far excels our other. 
 
 Captain, let us a-board ! we are bound to do 
 what you think best ! 
 [Co]n(litions. Come on then ! let us away ! 
 — that in mariner's attire 1 were dressed ! 
 
 Exeunt. 
 Here entereth Montagos •with his daughter. 
 [Mo]ntagos. Come, Sabia, by and by, and 
 show your father straight and quick, 
 
 In what place in te body you be so sore seek? 
 
 My tinke, you have te greta deseza in te belly 
 and te heda. 
 
 By Got's lord, Sabia ! you love te man, me am 
 afraida. [and by ; 
 
 And you so do, Sabia, express to your father by 
 
 By Cot's lord ! me give twenty hundret pounds 
 in marriage, truly : [my shild, 
 
 And terfore letta me know te man, good Sabia, 
 
 For me know well experienza, you love te man, 
 me am no beguiled. 
 [Sah]ia. Good father ! seem not to demand 
 the thing 1 cannot show. 
 
 The wight whom burdened 1 am with, of truth, 
 1 do not know. [me 
 
 If that 1 were in love at all, in vain it were for 
 
 At any time to hide the same, such skill re- 
 mains in be. 
 
 A. p. IV. Q
 
 226 Common Conditions 
 
 [Mo]ntagos. Ah, Sabia ! say me not a so, 
 
 for me know, by good experienza, 
 You love te mana long ago, terof a me lay a 
 
 hundred penza. 
 Ha, ha, Sabia ! how now? whata say you upon 
 
 tis geara? 
 Me know, by good knowledga and your coun- 
 tenance, a deseza you beara. 
 And terfore, Sabia, expreza your fater what a 
 
 gentleman a be. 
 Efata, Sabia, me do whata me can, to maka 
 
 te marriage truely : 
 If a be marchanta, or gentleman, or knight, 
 
 or whata mana a be, 
 Mit my passing coninga me can make him 
 
 love tee. 
 And terfore expreza your fatera by and by. 
 [Sabi]a. Well, sith there is no remedy, in 
 
 vain it is to deny. 
 Sir Nomides it is, that knight of Arabia, whom 
 
 I do love in heart 
 And will, until his love I win, though I from 
 
 life depart : 
 Lo, now ye know the wight, O sire ! whom 
 
 Cupid caused me to love. 
 But by no means I can devise, him will no pity 
 
 move. 
 Though oftentimes I did entreat, still casting 
 
 shame aside, 
 As often he refused the same, and still my 
 
 suit denied : 
 Lo now, my sire ! you know the wight, whose 
 
 sight hath pierced my breast, [quiet rest. 
 
 That for his sake I may not take at all my 
 
 Mont[agos.] Sir Nomides ! ha, ha, Sabia ! 
 
 data te mana dat causes you be seke so !
 
 Common Conditions 227 
 
 Me know well, you love te man, by good 
 
 knowledga, long ago : 
 Well, Sabia, come home to your fader's house, 
 
 mltout delay, 
 For me will go speak mit Sir Nomideza 
 
 straightveay. 
 And me can mit my cunnings, me will marry 
 
 you twain ; 
 Terfore, Sabia, come home to your fater's 
 
 house, me say again ! 
 Sabia. Yes, father, sith that it is your will, 
 
 I ready am to wait. 
 Mont[agos.] Well ten, come away, Sabia, 
 
 mit your fater straight. 
 
 Exit Montagos. 
 Sabia. Ah, cruel, crabbed, currish imp ! ah, 
 
 stubborn, strong, stony heart 
 That can constrain a lady so to suffer deadly 
 
 smart ! 
 How canst thou safely, without shame, deny 
 
 a lady's proffer? 
 Perchance thou mayest live thrice so long, and 
 
 never have like offer. 
 Ah, heavenly powers ! do grant that he may 
 
 taste of my like pain. 
 And grant he fancy one whose love he never 
 
 shall attain. 
 And furies all ! agree in one to broil within 
 
 her breast. 
 Whom he shall fancy in such sort, that she 
 
 may him detest : 
 Then know I that he feels my pain, then tasteth 
 
 he my grief, [some relief. 
 
 Then hope I that, in time, he will of me take 
 And that the same may come to pass, Alecto 
 
 pierce her breast, 
 
 Q 2
 
 238 Common Conditions 
 
 That amongst all she views with eye she may 
 
 him most detest : 
 So hope I that, in time, I shall, perforce, ob- 
 tain his love, 
 Through cunning skill of father mine, and help 
 
 of gods above. 
 
 Here entereth LampheJon lamenting. 
 Lamph[edon.] Ah, God's! how have I been 
 
 through pirates' force on seas suppressed, 
 When that we thought, most quietly, from foes 
 
 to sail at rest : 
 How have the gods been changeable, or mut- 
 able in this case ! 
 How have I been on tumbling waves sore 
 
 tossed from place to place ! 
 How did those cruel pirates, they, my corps 
 
 cast into seas. 
 And yielded me to Neptune's waves, to carry 
 
 me where he please ! 
 How rigorously dealt they with me and my 
 
 Clarisia dear. 
 Who, I know well, with cruelty was drowned 
 
 with me there ! 
 Ah, ye powers ! is lady mine bereft of life, or 
 
 do I but surmise? 
 Or do I but imagine so, or do I but devise? 
 Devise? what need I to devise on that with 
 
 ears I heard? 
 Then, wretch ! unto thy ears, of force, thou 
 
 must give most regard : 
 Dealt not they cruelly with thee? Then what 
 
 cause had they to stay. 
 But work thy lady's final end, as thou didst 
 
 hear them say? 
 How can the swelling waves enclose that 
 
 tender corps of thine?
 
 Common Conditions 229 
 
 How could the cruel God of seas so view thy 
 
 latest fine? 
 Ah, Zepherus ! would thou hadst closed my 
 
 love in thy sweet blast, [ground her cast, 
 When pirates flung her overboard, and on soft 
 Why was it not my chance, alas ! to land in 
 
 place so good ? [in seas is drowned ? 
 
 Ha, wretch ! hast thou forgot that lady thine 
 Draw forth thy lingering blade with speed, and 
 
 give thyself a wound. 
 Sith that her joy was joy to thee, let her death 
 
 be thine also, [heart from woe. 
 
 And with this goring blade of thine, deride this 
 
 Here entereth the manners with a song. 
 
 Lustily, lustily, let us sail forth, 
 The wind trim doth serve us, it blows at the 
 north. 
 
 All things we have ready, and nothing we 
 want 
 To furnish our ship that rideth hereby: 
 Victuals and weapons, they be nothing scant, 
 Like 7vorthy mariners ourselves we will try. 
 Lustily, lustily, &c. 
 
 Her flags be new trimmed set flaunting aloft, 
 Our ship for swift swimming, oh, she doth 
 excel : 
 We fear no enemies, we have escaped them 
 oft; 
 Of all ships that swimmeth, she beareth the 
 bell. 
 
 Lustily, lustily, &c. 
 
 And here is a master excellefh in skill, 
 
 And our master's mate, he is not to seek:
 
 230 Common Conditions 
 
 And here is a boatswain will do his good will, 
 And here is a shipboy, we never had the leek. 
 Lustily, lustily, &c. 
 
 If fortune then fail not, and our next voyage 
 
 prove, 
 
 We 7vill return merrily, and make good cheer. 
 
 And hold all together, as friends linked in love; 
 
 The cans shall be filled with wine, ale and 
 
 beer. 
 
 Lustily, lustily, ^c. 
 
 Master. Hey lively, by Gog's blood ! this 
 
 booty was for our purpose fit ; 
 It doth me good to think how I hurled him 
 
 overboard yet ! [the lady at every word, 
 Boatswlain.] And it doth me good to hear 
 Desirous not to hurl her lover overboard. 
 But she might cry her fill, for she was never 
 
 the sooner heard, 
 For I helped to hurl him overboard, to hei 
 
 crying I took no regard : 
 When our captain heard it, he was in a rage 
 
 that it was strange to see. 
 And out of hand would needs fight, and said 
 
 it was 'long of me. 
 Master. Seeing our captain is gone with 
 
 the lady to Marofus Isle away, [delay ! 
 
 Let us make haste a-shipboard, without longer 
 
 Boatswa[in.] Content, Master ! we intend 
 
 to tarry no longer here. 
 Lamphe[don.] Nay, stay, you imps of 
 
 Limbo lake ! I wait your coming near. 
 Ah, wretches ! who have drowned my love in 
 
 floods of cruel force^ 
 Defend you straight, for I do wait to wreak 
 
 it on your corse :
 
 Common Conditions 231 
 
 Wherefore I say, defend you straight, my 
 
 force you sure shall try. 
 
 Master. Ah, wretch ! and art thou yet alive? 
 
 Be sure we will thee not deny. 
 
 Ah, God's ! what chance is this, that he should 
 
 swim to land? [and hand. 
 
 I repent, by God's I swear, I tied him not foot 
 
 But well, sith that thou 'scaped art from 
 
 drowning in this case : 
 Prepare thyself, either thou or we shall end 
 
 our lives in place. 
 Wherefore, ah, wretch, we thee defy, as enemy 
 to thy face ! 
 Lamph[edon.] In hope of victory, I, of you 
 in my sweet lady's case. 
 And therefore, wretches, prepare you to die. 
 
 They fig[ht.] 
 Boatsw[ain.] They are but fools that from 
 
 thee would fly. 
 [Lamphedon.] Ha, Gods ! he that doth trust 
 too much his strength may chance to lose 
 his life. 
 Boats7v[ain.] O, stay thy hand, courageous 
 
 knight ; good news here of thy wife ! 
 [Lam]phedon. My wife? Ha, wretch ! thou 
 and thy mate have drowned her corps in 
 seas. 
 [Ma]ster. Ha, no, sir knight ! that is not 
 so, rigour somewhat appease. 
 And I shall surely show you all. 
 
 [Lam]phedon. In hope to hear good news 
 of thee, I, sure, pardon thee shall. 
 Stand up, and let me hear, with speed, what 
 thou canst here express. 
 [Ma]ster. Well ! sith there is no remedy, 
 the truth I shall confess :
 
 232 Common Conditions 
 
 The lady, she hath still her life, and arrived 
 in Phrygia here, [there. 
 
 But going- to Marofus Isle, to live as captive 
 For, why, we sent our captain now, to sell her, 
 if he might, [valiant fight : 
 
 To one Cardolus, who doth keep that isle by 
 Whom when he hath he doth enclose in mighty 
 
 turret high, 
 To see if any dares presume his force and 
 
 strength to try. 
 And lest that he should seem perforce to take 
 
 her and not pay. 
 We sent our captain, who will try his strength 
 
 both night and day. 
 Unless he have what is his due : lo, hear, O 
 
 worthy knight ! 
 Vouchsafe to have remorse of me, who have 
 
 expressed the right. 
 And grant that I may now depart with this my 
 life away. 
 [Lam]phedon. In hope thou hast expressed 
 the truth, I mind thee not to stay; 
 Well, for this once I pardon thee, depart hence 
 when thou please. 
 [Ma]ster. Then lustily once more, by Gog's 
 blood ! to the seas. 
 Why, I think it be my destiny to be hanged 
 
 or drowned ; 
 I think never to die in my bed, for a hundred 
 pound ! Exit. 
 
 [Larn]phedon. Proceed Lamphedon, cour- 
 ageously Cardolus' strength to try, 
 And either win thy love perforce, or in his 
 
 hands do die ! 
 Shall lady thine thus live in thrall to tyrant 
 fierce of might?
 
 Common Conditions 23J 
 
 Shall thy sweet lady wail for woe in turret 
 
 day and night? 
 No, Lamphedon, let footsteps thine be pressed 
 
 to Marofus to trade, [goring blade : 
 
 In hope to subdue the wretch with this thy 
 Let manly courage there be shown, let valiant 
 
 heart be tried, 
 Let not this proffered challenge eke of thee 
 
 once be denied. 
 Shall my lady live his thrall? No, Cardolus ! 
 
 think not but I, 
 Though thou hast Hercules' force, thy might 
 
 and strength will try ; [thine, 
 
 Or if that Cerberus his might did rest in body 
 I would not doubt for lady's sake thy vital days- 
 
 to fine ; 
 Which done, my joys would new increase, 
 
 where sorrows yet be rife, 
 If that through help of mighty Mars I may 
 
 obtain my wife. [F2xit. 
 
 Here entereth Clarisia and Conditions. 
 Condit[ions.] Mistress Clarisia ! cast ofiF 
 
 care; 
 For your lord Lamphedon do not fear : 
 He is in health, though you think him to be 
 
 drowned, 
 And thereof I dare lay five hundred pound. 
 Clarisia. Oh, Conditions ! on that condition 
 
 I think all travail no pain, 
 If thereby I mought win my Lamphedon again : 
 But ha, alas ! he is drowned, I am sure. 
 
 Conditions. Lady Clarisia ! leave off this 
 
 talk, that your griefs doth procure. 
 If you will follow my counsel, and cast off all 
 
 this doubt, [don out. 
 
 I will devise a means to find my lord Lamphe-
 
 234 Common Conditions 
 
 Clarisia. Yes, Conditions ! I am content, 
 
 and do agree to thy will. 
 Condit[ions.] Then, in one respect, you 
 
 must needs my request herein fulfil ; 
 And that is this : you must become a servant 
 
 to a knight 
 Who dwelleth here hard by, who Leostines 
 
 hight ; 
 And whilst you abide there, myself will go 
 
 search all about, [Lamphedon out. 
 
 Night and day, until I have found my lord 
 And when I have found him, doubt you not but 
 
 that we twain [thence again : 
 
 Will, by a subtle means, convey you from 
 How say you, lady, to my device — are you 
 
 herein content? 
 Clarisia. Yes, Conditions, to thy counsel I 
 
 could well consent [again. 
 
 If thereby I mought obtain my loving knight 
 
 Condit[ions.] Doubt you not that I will 
 
 omit any kind of pain 
 Until I have found him, either on sea or land. 
 Believe me, as I am an honest gentleman, here 
 
 is my hand. 
 But I must request one thing more : you must 
 
 change your usual name, 
 Lest you, being known, all our woes should 
 
 frame : 
 And whereas your name is Clarisia, let it 
 
 Metrea be ; 
 Which done I doubt not but your knight in 
 
 good health you shall see. 
 Clarisia. I warrant thee my name is 
 
 Metrea, whatsoever they say. 
 Condit[ions.] Well, you must yourself to 
 
 the knight's place take your way;
 
 Common Conditions 235 
 
 But besides, you must counterfeit your pro- 
 geny, as you may, 
 Lest in uttering the same you work your own 
 decay. 
 Clansi[a]. Doubt you not, Conditions ! for 
 
 that I was born in Phrygia here. 
 Condi[tions.] That is sufficient ; whatsoever 
 they demand, hold you thera. 
 Well, lady ! here lies the ready way towards the 
 
 knight's place ; 
 Depart, when you please ; I must seek out my 
 master in any case. 
 Clarisi[a.] Content, Conditions ! and fare- 
 well, till we meet again. 
 [Cond.] You will not believe how I grieve 
 
 at the parting of us twain. 
 [Clar]isia. I pray thee, be content. Condi- 
 tions, wail no more for me. 
 [Conjditions. Ha, my good master, and my 
 good mistress, for you I am as sorry as I 
 can be ! 
 [Clari]sia. I pray thee, leave off. Condi- 
 tions, in hope of merry meeting ! Exit. 
 [Con]ditions. Ha ! now a plague of all such 
 villains that caused us to have such greet- 
 ing ! 
 Ha, my good mistress ! leave you off your wail- 
 ing so sore for me : [be. 
 For I know you too well, kind-hearted for to 
 What! is she gone? have I been howling all 
 
 this while, and know not wherefore? 
 
 Nay ! and she begone so soon, by her leave, 
 
 I'll lament no more. [counterfeit knave. 
 
 Ah, sirrah ! to see the dissimulation of a crafty 
 
 That by flattery can bring to pass the thing he 
 
 would have 1
 
 2;6 Common Conditions 
 
 Wept ! quod you? I have wept indeed; to put 
 
 you out of doubt, [about. 
 
 Even as much as will drive half a dozen mills 
 But I must laugh to think on my pirates — 
 
 filching knaves ! 
 Their captain hath bored them through their 
 
 noses like slaves. 
 They were not contented to make me captain, 
 
 to serve them a-board, 
 But they must make a merchant of me with 
 
 target and sword, 
 Thinking I would deal with Cardolus, if he 
 
 would take her away. 
 Nay, by your leave! for women's causes I'll 
 
 deal with no such play ! 
 Fight, who so list, for me ! [lady free. 
 
 But by this means I have devised to set the 
 I would not be a-board again for five hundred 
 
 pound ; 
 I dare swear, in one hour I should be both 
 
 hanged, killed, and drowned. 
 Well, let me see ! whither shall I trace, my 
 
 master for to find? 
 Let me see ! well fare a head that can bring 
 
 such things in mind. 
 It may be that he hath heard the pirates for 
 
 to say 
 That they would send his lady to Marofus Isle, 
 
 to sell her away ; [him again. 
 
 And that he is gone thither to win her from 
 Here is no remedy ; I must thither, and that 
 
 amain. Exit. 
 
 Here entereth Lamphedon. 
 [Lain]phedon. Though deep despair doth 
 drive, in doubt, due honour to disgrace ;
 
 Common Conditions 237 
 
 Though dreadful dumps doth daunt the mind, 
 
 being in uncouth place ; 
 Though heart is harded to hazard forth, in 
 
 lady's cause, to try [to die : 
 
 Against her cruel crabbed foe, and venture life 
 Yet, must he be advisedly, and in such kind of 
 
 sort, [deserve report. 
 
 That as well through wit as strength, it may 
 Therefore, Lamphedon, take good heart, like 
 
 Troilus in strength. 
 And live in hope, through fierce assault, to 
 
 foil thy foe at length. [imagine just, 
 
 Though that thou want Ulysses' skill, for to 
 Or to divide, in rightest wise, which way begin 
 
 thou must : 
 Behold, in heart, through fierce assault, thy 
 
 cruel foe to foil ; 
 And end his days, to merit praise or yield thee 
 
 to the spoil. 
 I straight will summon on his shield, to try his 
 
 force and strength, 
 In hope, through help of mighty Mars to win 
 
 the field at length. 
 Thou tyrant, Cardolus ! who dost enclose 
 
 within thy fortress strong 
 Fair ladies to their mortal grief, and profferest 
 
 them such wrong, 
 Come forth! for lo ! mauger thy force I'll 
 
 summon on thy shield : 
 In hope to set those ladies free, and end thy 
 
 days in field. 
 
 Here entereth Cardolus. 
 Cardol[us.] What, vaunting varlet ! dares 
 
 presume to try Cardolus' strength, 
 Who never dealt with none as yet but foiled 
 
 them all at length?
 
 23S Common Conditions 
 
 Who dares alive presume to tread within 
 
 Marofus Isle? 
 Except he licence crave of me I'll cause him 
 
 straight recoil. 
 What wight alive dares once presume to 
 
 summon on my shield? 
 Who dares presume, for lady's cause, to try 
 
 my strength in field? 
 And yet, methought, I heard someone to 
 
 summon on the same; 
 Tush, Cardolus ! he is tied for dread, and hides 
 
 his head for shame ! 
 Lamph[edon.] No, Cardolus ! think not but 
 
 I, who present here do stand. 
 Dare try thy strength, with courage bold, and 
 
 foil thee hand to hand. 
 What thinkest thou that I come to thee, to 
 
 summon on thy shield, 
 And dare not view thy warlike show, that thou 
 
 dost make in field? 
 Yes, yes, Cardolus ! prepare thyself, if so thou 
 
 thinkest best ; 
 For lo ! to set those ladies free — behold, I here 
 
 am pressed ! 
 And, therefore, yield them straight to me from 
 
 out thy prison strong ; 
 Or else prepare to [try] thy strength, I will no 
 
 time prolong. 
 Cardo[lus.] Alas, poor wretch ! what 
 
 meanest thou — to trace from native soil. 
 To end thy days by me, thy foe, within 
 
 Marofus Isle? 
 Thinkest thou thyself meet matched, wretch ! 
 
 to deal in fight with me? 
 In faith, princox ! I doubt not but soon thy 
 
 courage cooled shall be.
 
 Common Conditions 239 
 
 Lamp[hedon.] What, Cardolus ! first let us 
 try, and when that we have done, 
 Let him that doth subdue his foe vaunt of 
 
 victory won : 
 For, why? the wight that reckoneth, before 
 
 that he obtain, 
 May chance to reckon twice, and then his 
 
 reckoning is in vain. 
 So thou, to vaunt of victory before thou gain 
 
 the same, 
 Mayest chance to have thy peacock's tail 
 
 brought low unto thy shame. 
 And, therefore, let us first begin, and when 
 
 that we have done, 
 Let him triumph with victory that hath the 
 conquest won ! 
 [Car]dolus. Sayest thou me so, princox? 
 
 with speed then defend thee ! 
 [Lam]phedon. Do thy worst, Cardolus ! I 
 
 fear not, so I intend me. 
 [Car]dolus. O Gods ! for want of breath my 
 
 might begins to fail. 
 [Lam]phedon. Then lustily, Lamphedon, 
 
 thy foe to assail ! 
 [Car]dolus. O stay, sir knight ! end not 
 through fight my days, but grant me 
 grace. 
 [Lamjphedon. Ah, wretch ! I deny thee, 
 for I intend to slay thee or I from hence 
 trace. 
 [Car]dolus. O, stay thy hand, most worthy 
 knight, and grant to me my life ! 
 And thou shalt see if in my hold there do 
 remain thy wife J 
 [Lam]phedon. Nay, wretch ! that shall me 
 not suffice, for I will straight set free
 
 240 Common Conditions 
 
 All ladies that within thy hold, as it remaining 
 
 be; 
 And yet, besides, I'll end thy days, or I from 
 
 hence do go. 
 [Car]dolus. O, stay thy hand, most worthy 
 
 knight ! and work not my last woe. 
 All that which appertains to me I fully yield 
 
 to thee, 
 If so thou wilt ostend thy grace, and pardon 
 
 grant to me. 
 [Lam]phedon. Well, I am persuaded in my 
 
 mind thy pardon for to grant ; 
 Although, at first, or we begun, of victory 
 
 thou didst vaunt ; 
 Yet shall it be to this intent : thou yearly shalt 
 
 resign 
 For this Marofus Isle, the which I may now 
 
 keep as mine. 
 Five hundred crowns yearly to pay, at Pente- 
 cost the same, 
 Or else, be sure, the sum unpaid, I'll end thy 
 
 days with shame : 
 And eke besides I'll set them free that in thy 
 
 hold do rest — 
 How sayest thou now? do answer me as 
 
 please thy fancy best ! 
 [Card]olus. O worthy knight ! I grant 
 
 thereto, thy tribute for to pay. 
 And live thy thrall at beck and call, until my 
 
 dying day : 
 And eke beside those ladies which thou cam'st 
 
 for to set free, 
 Take here the keys, with humble heart I yield 
 
 them all to thee. 
 [Larn]phedon. Well then, stand up, Car- 
 
 dolus ! straight, and let us hence depart;
 
 Common Conditions 241 
 
 For who to view my lady, she, I do desire with 
 
 heart : 
 Wherefore, Cardolus, come away, I charge 
 
 thee straight, with speed. 
 [Card]olus. I ready am to wait, sir knight ! 
 
 when you shall think it need. [Exeunt. 
 Here entereth Nomides. 
 [Nom]ides. Ah, Gods ! what wight hath 
 
 greater cause for to lament than I, 
 That caused am to crave the thing that oft I 
 
 did deny? 
 What wight would sue unto his foe whom oft 
 
 he did offend ? [friend ? 
 
 Or mercy crave, at any time, of cruel crabbed 
 Ha, Nomides ! thou forced art to bow to Cupid, 
 
 he, 
 Whom thou before didst so abhor, his captive 
 
 thrall to be. 
 Why did I spite, like wretchless knight, thy 
 
 cunning state or force? 
 Why did I eke this defame speak, just cause 
 
 of no remorse? 
 Ha, God's ! am I become a lover now, or suitor 
 
 for to be, 
 Whom erst did force no whit for love, nor for 
 
 Cupido, he? 
 Would God's, when first I viewed the sight of 
 
 Metrea, that dame, 
 Whose comely favour it was that forced my 
 
 heart to flame : 
 I had been viewing of the thing which man 
 
 doth most detest ; 
 Then should not woful lover's pains have 
 
 broiled in my breast. 
 Ha, Metrea ! would God's ! my sore were in 
 
 thy breast a grief; 
 A. p. IV. R
 
 242 Common Conditions 
 
 Then would 1 nothing doubt, but that in time 
 
 to have relief. 
 Why, Nomidcs, dost thou not know she is but 
 
 a servant, she, 
 And thou a knight, and vahant wight, of 
 
 famous stock to be? 
 Why shouldest thou ought to despair herein? 
 
 but boidcn forth, my heart, 
 Sith that thou art constrained through force 
 
 of blind Cupido's dart ! 
 But ha, alas ! this grieves my heart, that Leo- 
 
 stines her master, he, [to me; 
 
 Of long hath been for former grudge an enemy 
 Which will be cause I may not come to speak 
 
 with her at all. 
 For view her crystal hue, whose sight it was, 
 
 that forced my fall ! 
 But stay, good news ! I see here enters thy 
 
 lady's woman-fool ; 
 Whom she, for charity, took in, and keepeth 
 
 yet to school. 
 Now shall I know of simple soul where my 
 
 sweet lady is, 
 Or send her letter, if I please, and of her sight 
 
 not miss. 
 
 Here entereth Lotnia, the natural. 
 Lomia. Heigh ! dill-a-ding, dill-a-ding, dat's 
 
 a good boy, 
 Thou shalt go with me a Sunday : 
 Ha, barlaking ! I am a trim schollard, and a 
 
 good wench; indeed, 
 My lady says and I wHl learn well and take 
 
 heed. 
 She will give me a trim velvet cap with a 
 
 feather 
 To put on my head against cold weather ;
 
 Common Conditions 243 
 
 And my lady will make me a trim long coat, 
 
 down to the ground ; 
 And if any will marry me, she will give him 
 
 twenty and a hundred pound. 
 My lady can dance — so she can ; and I must 
 
 learn too, 
 Else I shall never get me a husband, for all 
 
 that ever I can do. 
 And my lady can play tidulI-tiduU, in a pair of 
 
 virgin holes, 
 And I must learn every day too, as soon as I 
 
 have fet in coals. 
 And my lady will be here anon, and we must 
 
 walk together, 
 If it hold up and do not rain, but be fair 
 
 weather. 
 Dat's a good baby ! cry out than, 
 And thou shalt have a napell anan. 
 
 [Nom]ides. Now, hope doth say I shall 
 
 obtain the sight of lady dear. 
 If for her sake some pains I take, to stay her 
 
 coming here. 
 I'll fall in talk with this her fool, till she ap- 
 proach in place ; [my case. 
 Whereby I may more familiarly declare to her 
 How now, fair lady ! whither pass you this 
 
 way? [did. 
 
 [Lom]i(i. Forsooth, my lady ! her nown self 
 [Nom]ides. What did thy lady? 
 
 (Lomjia. Marry ! give me leave to play. 
 Nomjides. Who is thy lady, and what is 
 thy name? 
 [Lowjia. I am Lomia, and she my lady 
 
 Metrea, that late hither came. 
 [Nom]ides. How sayest thou, my lady 
 Lomia, wilt thou change coats with me? 
 
 R 2
 
 344 Common Conditioos 
 
 [Lomjia. No ! think not you have a fool in 
 
 hand, I warrant ye ! 
 [Novijides. Why, Lomia ! my cloak will 
 
 become thee excellent and brave. 
 [Lom]ia. Away ! 1 '11 none of your clothes, 
 I'll tell my lady you are a knave. 
 I cannot on my lady's arrant go, 
 But you will be meddling with maids, whether 
 
 they will or no ; 
 If thou werst no honester than I, thou wouldst 
 
 play the knave. 
 But I'll tell my lady on thee, so I will, what 
 thou wouldst have. 
 [Nom]ides. Nay, Lomia! do not, and I'll 
 give thee a penny, to buy thy baby clouts. 
 [Lonijia. Ah ! you mock me, so you do, you 
 do but flouts : 
 Gaffer, ah ! you mock, you will give us none 
 at all. 
 [Nom]ides. Here it is, Lomia, to buy thee 
 
 a minever cap or a caul. 
 [Lom]ia. O God ! is it good to eat, gaffer, 
 
 how say you? 
 [Notnjides. Taste it, Lomia ! 'tis some hard 
 
 to digest, I tell you true. 
 [LoTn]ia. O God ! O God ! I '11 tell my lady, 
 she will be here by and by. 
 That you give folks hard gear to eat, to make 
 
 them cry : 
 O God ! my lady, come to this hangman, and 
 beat him away. 
 
 Here entereth Metrea. 
 [Metr]ea. How now, my lady Lomia ! how 
 
 chance it you do stay? 
 [Lom]ia. My lady, here's a hangman, will 
 not let maids alone ;
 
 Common Conditions 245 
 
 But gives folks hard gear to eat, as hard as a 
 
 bone. 
 [Metrea.] Did he, Lomia? we will put water 
 
 in his pottage, and cut his roast meat with 
 
 a knife. 
 But, perchance, he is enamoured of thee, he 
 
 will have thee to his wife. 
 Lomia. I'll be none of his wife, my lady; 
 
 he is a trim husband for you. 
 Nomi[des.] I perceive, though fools want 
 
 discretion, yet their meaning are true. 
 Fair lady ! in absence yours as I abroad did 
 
 trace, [ference for a space : 
 
 I met your female fool, with whom I had con- 
 Of which I hope you will accept the same in 
 
 way of jest, 
 And not to judge of simple men, as women 
 
 think it best. 
 Metrea. Though women some there be that 
 
 judge of men devoid of skill. 
 There are, sure, thrice as many men that deem 
 
 of women ill ; 
 And, therefore, sure, that argues not : men do 
 
 the worst they can ; 
 And women, by your leave, at times will do 
 
 as ill as man. 
 Who though, sir knight, let's leave this talk, 
 
 I am no pleader, I. 
 Nomi[des.] Yet hear my talk, O peerless 
 
 dame, and then seem to reply ! 
 Metrea. At your request awhile I'll stay, 
 
 your talk, sir knight, to hear. 
 Nomi[des.] Then hope I that nought but 
 
 true faith in me shall well appear. 
 Lady ! the wounded deer, whose tender breast 
 
 is pressed with quarrel ground.
 
 246 Common Conditions 
 
 And forced eke, through fierce assault, to yield 
 
 to ravening hound, 
 For spilling blood to issue out from tender 
 
 breast apace, 
 Begins to trudge with triple steps before his 
 
 foes in chase : 
 The eager hound pursues amain, till deer his 
 
 foam doth cast 
 In midst of way, which plain doth show he 
 
 near hath run his last. 
 The hound, whose nature is to know what state 
 
 the deer is in, 
 For to procure more fresh assault, he straight 
 
 doth there begin ; 
 And, at length, he pulls him down, except he 
 
 water take ; 
 Which, if he may, then is he sure the hounds 
 
 will him forsake. 
 So I, whose heart is cloven in twain, through 
 
 quarrel fiercely shot, 
 That from my tender breast the blood, like 
 
 fountains droppeth hot, 
 Am fain, like deer through greedy hound, from 
 
 herd for to depart, [subvert. 
 
 By reason of the blinded boy, that did me so 
 The hounds of grief unherded me, and 
 
 drowned me in chase. 
 Where I with triple steps did fly ; but they 
 
 pursued apace ; 
 Till, at the length, my strength did waste, and 
 
 running eke did fail ; 
 For, why? the hounds of deep despair my 
 
 senses did so assail. [back; 
 
 The froth, also, is ready cast upon my tender 
 For, why? alas ! they me pursued; but I, being 
 
 too slack.
 
 Common Conditions 247 
 
 Now want 1 nought but water brook, which if 
 I may obtain, ['scape unslain. 
 
 lady dear ! then am I sure from hounds to 
 Lo, hear, dear dame ! judge of the same as 
 
 Hghtly as you may ! 
 [Me]trea. I shall, sir knight, unto my 
 
 might and simple skill here say : 
 Accursed may that brook be, sure, that would 
 
 not you embrace ; 
 For whose sweet sake you wounded were and 
 
 eke pursued in chase. 
 Her silver streams unworthy is her wonted 
 
 course to keep. 
 And for such an envious offence a thousand 
 
 woes to reap. 
 But if I were the brook, sir knight, and that 
 
 it lay in me [misery, 
 
 To aid you from your cruel foes, and, from this 
 
 1 would. Wherefore, accept, sir knight, my 
 
 good will, if you please. 
 [No]mides. Fair lady, in none but you it 
 
 lieth my sorrows for to ease. 
 'Tis you yourself, O noble dame ! whom you 
 
 accused thus ; [to discuss. 
 
 Who never knew my grief before, the truth for 
 You are the streams, for whose sweet sake I 
 
 have desired so. 
 After my grievous wound once given, to 'scape 
 
 to, from my foe. 
 Accept my suit, O peerless dame, deny not 
 
 rny good will ; [desired still ; 
 
 But yield to me my wished prey, which I 
 And let me not, for your sweet sake, O lady ! 
 
 die for love. 
 [Met]rpn. Sir knight, there stay; demand 
 
 the thing no more that will not prove.
 
 248 Common Conditions 
 
 I am ready linked in love with one, who faithful 
 
 is; 
 For whose sweet sake I'll never love, if of his 
 love I miss. 
 [Notn]ides. Why, lady, then you kill my 
 
 heart for aye ! 
 [Met]rea. What, nay ! take a man to play 
 such a part, and the night shall be day. 
 Come, Lomie, let us hence straig-ht wend ! 
 [No]mides. Why, lady? Then my life shall 
 end ! [fear. 
 
 [Metrjea. No, no, sir knight, you need not 
 Nom ides. Well, lady, for your sweet sake 
 the griefs I bear. [hence away. 
 
 [Met]rea. Come, rise, Lomia ! and let us 
 
 Exit. 
 [Lom]ia. Yes, forsooth, my lady; shall we 
 go play? 
 Gaffer, I thank you for my penny, to buy my 
 
 baby some clouts. 
 O God ! hangman you ! I forgot to tell that 
 you did flouts. Exit. 
 
 [Nom]ides. O God's ! how like is this the 
 suit of lady Sabia, she, 
 Who seeks each way, both night and day, to 
 
 gain t'le love of me ! 
 
 Now may I say that heavenly powers doth 
 
 justly me reward, [light regard. 
 
 For that to Sabia 's proffered love I took so 
 
 Yet shall not this dismay me ought, yet once 
 
 more will I prove, 
 Experience shows faint-hearted knights wins 
 
 never fair ladies' love ! 
 And women are of nature such they always do 
 
 require 
 That men should seek, and also creep, to gain 
 that they desire. [Exit.
 
 Common Conditions 249 
 
 Here entereth Lamphedon. 
 Lamph[edon.] O God's ! what wight is 
 
 pinched with pain, as is Lamphedon, he? 
 What heart hath had so sudden joy, and 
 
 straight such misery? 
 Clarisia ! for thy sake I forced nought, to try 
 
 Cardolus' strength; 
 In hope for to have found thee there, to breed 
 
 my joy at length. [doth tell 
 
 But, alas ! hope fails me now; experience plain 
 That cruel pirates drowned my love in foaming 
 
 waves that swell. [dolus, he. 
 
 In vain I did the combat fight with stout Car- 
 Would God's ! it had now been his chance, in 
 
 fight to have slain me ! 
 Not Tantalus in hell doth feel the torments 
 
 which I taste ; 
 Nor Sisiphus who rolls the stone, and it re- 
 bounds in haste ; [Limbo lake 
 Not all the Furies in like case, nor imps of 
 Scarce feels the torments I sustain for my dear 
 
 lady's sake ! 
 Well, Lamphedon ! sith lady thine is dead and 
 
 drowned long time since, [from hence. 
 
 Prepare to end thy vital days, or thou depart 
 Draw forth thy blade ! seek to invade the 
 
 breath that lies in breast ! 
 Regard not life, since care and strife will never 
 
 let thee rest. [wonted joy, 
 
 But first, ye Muses nine ! refrain from notes of 
 And from your instruments so sweet to wail 
 
 my great annoy. 
 Now cease thy plaints, Lamphedon, wretch! 
 
 and end thy cares and woe ; 
 And rid thy life with goring knife, or thou from 
 
 Isle dost go.
 
 250 Common Conditions 
 
 And powers do grant for to receive my soul to 
 
 heavens high, 
 And that it there may take rest, where my 
 sweet lady doth lie. 
 
 Here entereth Conditions, 
 Condi[tions.] Stay thy hand, Cardolus ! for 
 I come not for to fight ; 
 As I am an honest gentleman and a right 
 courteous knight. 
 Lamp[hedon.] Ha, God's! good news I 
 hope, for this the captain, sure, should be 
 With whom, they say, they sent my love to 
 
 sell to Cardolus, he. 
 
 Come forth, thou wretch, and straight confess 
 
 where my dear lady is, [not miss ! 
 
 Or else to work thy final end, be sure, I shall 
 
 Cond[itions.] Ha, Cardolus ! I mind not 
 
 fight to gain five hundred pound. 
 Lanip[hedon.] Then wherefore didst thou 
 
 venture to tread on his ground? 
 Cond[itions.] Ha, to bring such news as 
 
 is for your ease ! 
 Lamp[hedon.] What is that? express it 
 
 quickly, and seem not to lease ! 
 Cond[itions.] If you take me with a lie, 
 
 hang me like a counterfeit knave. 
 lLam]phedon. Come forth ! if it be for my 
 
 behoof, due pardon thou shalt have. 
 [Con]ditions. Ha ! was there ever villain in 
 such kind of taking as I? 
 I am so beset that 'tis unpossible to devise 
 
 a lie. 
 And shall please you, Cardolus ! there is a 
 
 certain knight 
 Coming to win away one of your ladies fair, 
 by fight.
 
 Common Conditions 251 
 
 Now I, for good will I bear you, came to tell 
 
 you the same, 
 Lest in sudden, at unwares, your woes he 
 
 should chance to frame. 
 For he is the veriest sot that ever looked 
 
 champion on the face : 
 I dare swear, if you give him a blow, he would 
 
 run hence apace. 
 [Lam]phedon. If all this be true, I thank 
 
 thee for thy good will ; 
 But I pray thee, express his name that 
 
 mindeth me such ill. 
 [Conjditions. Ah ! now am I ready to be- 
 wray myself for fear ; 
 For I am in doubt that Lamphedon already 
 
 hath been here. 
 Well, whether he hath or not, the truth needs 
 
 I must say. 
 Lest I, being proved contrary, should work 
 
 mine own decay. 
 Ha ! and it shall please you, Lamphedon is his 
 
 name, 
 The Duke's son of Phrygia, that pretended the 
 
 same. 
 [LaTn]phedon. Ha, wretch ! where is my 
 
 lady thou brought'st to sell to Cardolus, 
 
 he? 
 Confess the truth, or be thou sure thy days 
 
 soon ended shall be ! 
 [Con]ditions. Ha, Cardolus, stay thy hand ! 
 
 I'll fight for no lady, I. 
 [Lam]phedon. No, wretch ! my name is 
 
 Lamphedon, and that thou soon shalt try. 
 [Conditions. Jesus! know you not me? I 
 
 am Conditions, your man. 
 And for naught else, to seek you only, I hither 
 
 ran.
 
 252 Common Conditions 
 
 [Lam]phedon. Conditions, stand up ! I have 
 
 subdued Cardolus, and am never the near ; 
 
 And have set all his captives free, but Clarisia 
 
 is not there : 
 Which breedeth my care, and impaireth my 
 wealth. 
 [Conjditions. Be of good cheer, noble Lam- 
 phedon ! your lady is in health ; 
 But is in Phrygia as a servant, with Leostines, 
 
 he, 
 And liveth in great grief and misery : 
 For why? she thinks you not alive, but 
 drowned : this is plain. 
 [LampVkedon. Ha, God's ! is this true, 
 
 Conaitions, and dost thou not feign? 
 [Cond]itions. Jesus ! why, when did you 
 take me with a lie? 
 Be bold ! that which I once say, I will not deny. 
 [Latnph]edon. How came my lady to be a 
 
 servant? I pray thee, express ! 
 [Conditions. As we trace on our way, the 
 whole to you I shall confess. 
 But where is Cardolus, noble knight, that he 
 is not in place? 
 [Lamp]hedon. I have pardoned him. Condi- 
 tions, and granted him grace 
 Upon condition he shall never offend lady 
 
 again. 
 And eke to yield me tribute, whilst life he doth 
 retain. 
 Condit[ions.] Well, then, let us be jogging 
 
 towards your lady apace. 
 Lamph[edon.] That is the place to which I 
 most desire to trace : 
 Wherefore, with speed, Conditions, come let 
 us away ! Exit.
 
 Conunon Conditions 253 
 
 Conditi[ons.] Proceed on ! for, by your 
 
 leave, I mind not here to stay ; 
 I would it had been my chance to try with 
 
 Cardolus, he ! 
 Ha ! 'tis a wonder that such strength in a little 
 
 man's arm should be. 
 But, by your leave, 'tis good to be merry and 
 
 wise, the truth to say ; 
 *Tis not for the weak heart with the lion for 
 
 to play. 
 Well, there is no remedy, I must after my 
 
 master Lamphedon, he, 
 For I dare swear he thinks it long till with his 
 
 lady he be ! [Exit. 
 
 Here entereth Leostines with Metrea. 
 Leostin\es.'\ Lady Metrea, and servant eke, 
 
 attentive be with speed ! 
 For, why? to rest thy faithful friend, behold! 
 
 I have decreed ; 
 Sith that the powers have lent to me none heir 
 
 for to enjoy 
 My lordship great, when sisters three shall 
 
 breed my last annoy ; 
 And sith in such strange kind of sort thou 
 
 happenedst to me. 
 Thou shalt from this time forth, dear dame! 
 
 no more a servant be; [daughter dear. 
 But I will take thee as my own and only 
 For that I see virginity in thee doth still 
 
 appear. 
 And when that death shall end my days, and 
 
 I to ground am thrown. 
 For virtues, that in you we see, receive even 
 
 as thine own 
 My lands and lordships every deal ; but if the 
 
 powers grant life,
 
 254 Commoa Conditions 
 
 We will do, what there lieth in us, to spouse 
 
 thee as a wife 
 Unto some knight of famous stock, and so 
 
 prefer thy state 
 In matching thee with such a one as shall thee 
 
 not forsake. 
 Lo, here, dear dame ! accept me still, even as 
 
 thy only sire ; 
 And when thou wants, ask what thou wilt, thou 
 
 shalt have thy desire. 
 Metrea. Right loving lord Leostines, and 
 
 only master eke, 
 Whose heart is set and also bent, my only 
 
 joys to seek. 
 Do grant your simple servant here to utter 
 
 forth her mind ; 
 And then accept her, as she is, and as you do 
 
 her find ! 
 Leos nines.] Why, Metrea, ask what thou 
 
 wilt, I am contented, I. 
 Metrea. Then aid Apollo, pleasant Muse, 
 
 me rightly to reply ! [like case. 
 
 Right reverend lord Leostines, and master in 
 I yield your highness entire thanks, and, if the 
 
 gods grant grace, [fully remain ; 
 
 I shall your simple fondling here still duti- 
 Else thy heavens me consume with speed, and 
 
 end my days with pain. 
 I am your simple servant here, and still would 
 
 gladly rest. 
 But that your highness hath devise what for 
 
 my state is best. 
 Yet have I one thing to demand, O worthy 
 
 lord ! of thee. 
 Which if I may obtain, I doubt in happy state 
 
 to be.
 
 Common Conditions 255 
 
 [Leo]stines. Why, what is that, my Metrea? 
 
 do straight express the same. 
 [Met]rea. 'Tis all my whole desire, dear 
 
 lord ! to gain a virgin's name. 
 [Leo]stines. Why, Metrea, what should you 
 so desire to live in such a solemn sort. 
 
 And through your single life in time to gain 
 some mis-report? 
 
 Why should you eke disdain the state of wed- 
 lock in this case? 
 
 Or seem for to abuse the law of Juno's noble 
 grace ? 
 
 No, do not so, my Metrea dear ! sith that dame 
 Nature, she, 
 
 Hath framed with skilful workmanship such 
 comeliness in thee. 
 
 Thou mayest in time obtain some one unto thy 
 loving pheer, 
 
 As will thee count his chiefest joy and only 
 darling dear. 
 
 Wherefore, be ruled, persuade thy mind, in- 
 cline to my request, 
 
 And I will seek, if God permit, what for thy 
 state is best ; [agree. 
 
 Which shall be also to thy mind, if so thou will 
 
 [Mctr]ea. Ye heavens ! still do strengthen 
 
 me ! [unable is, 
 
 Dear lord Leostines, more to say my tongue 
 
 To render you the entire thanks that you de- 
 serve I-wis ; [you find. 
 
 Yet, hope I that your honour will consider, as 
 
 Sith that my tongue unable is to utter as I 
 mind; [Dian's chase, 
 
 So grant your simple servant here to live in 
 
 For so she sets' her whole delight, each folly to 
 displace.
 
 256 Common Conditions 
 
 She forceth nought of Juno's games, she counts 
 
 them but abuse ; [refuse. 
 
 To rest in true virginity, such games she will 
 Lo, here, dear lord ! do grant to her in virgin's 
 
 state to rest ; 
 For why? I think and deem, in mind, that for 
 
 my state is best. 
 And not for that I think my wit should pass 
 
 your noble skill ; 
 But from my infancy till now have I request it 
 
 still. 
 Lo, hear, dear lord ! on knees I crave the 
 
 sum of my desire ! 
 [Leost]ines. Stand up, Metrea ! sith thou 
 
 wilt, needs thou shalt the same aspire. 
 1 am content that thou shalt live in virgin's 
 
 sacred law ; 
 So that without my full consent from thence 
 
 thou never draw. 
 No ! this is all I bind thee to ; answer me, I 
 
 crave. 
 
 [The remainder is lost.^
 
 ^f)e Jnterlutre 
 
 of a 
 
 (ttonttact of iBarriage 
 
 fifttoffn 
 
 mat anlr iKislrom 
 
 A.P. IV.
 
 The Contract of a 
 Marriage between Wit and Wisdom 
 very fruitful and mixed full of 
 pleasant mirth as well for 
 the beholders as the 
 readers or hearers: 
 never before im- 
 printed 
 
 Cf)e tJibiJiton of t))t part« for iir to plap 
 ii)ii interlutJe : 
 
 The Prologue 
 
 Idleness 
 
 Epilogue 
 
 Severity 
 
 Irksomeness 
 
 Snatch 
 
 Honest recreat:. 
 
 Indulgence 
 Wisdom 
 Mother Bee 
 
 For 
 one. 
 
 For 
 one 
 
 Wantonness 
 
 Fancy 
 
 Doll 
 
 Wit 
 
 Search 
 
 Inquisition 
 
 For 
 one. 
 
 Good Nurture ' 
 
 Catch 
 
 Lob 
 
 1579 
 
 For 
 one.
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF WIT 
 AND WISDOM 
 
 The Prologue. 
 
 Who marks the common course of youthful 
 
 wandering wits, 
 Shall see the most of them frequent where Idle- 
 ness still sits ; [a one, 
 And how the Irksomeness doth murder many 
 Before that they, to wisdom 's-ward, the half 
 
 way yet have gone. 
 Except good Nurture do, with some severity, 
 Conduct them to Parnassus mount well 
 favor 'd (?) with levity. [made 
 
 But if it hap, in fine, that Wit the mate be 
 Of Wisdom, such a worthy wife, to follow 
 
 godly trade, [depend ; 
 
 Then shall you see whereon Dame Virtue doth 
 Not all the world besides, forsooth ! so meet a 
 
 match can mend. [awry. 
 
 But else, if Wit should wag, and hap to wave 
 Without, then, any rightful rule, and reasons 
 
 good supply, [aboard. 
 
 Then Fancy frames effects to bring his brain 
 And shelve his ship in haven's mouth, ere it 
 
 the seas have scoured. 
 Whereby you may perceive that Wisdom [is 
 
 the wight]
 
 26o Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. I 
 
 That must conform a youthful Wit and brmg 
 
 it in good plight. [my charge, 
 
 The proof, the sequel shows, for I have done 
 
 And to the actors must give place to set it 
 
 forth at large. Exit. 
 
 [The First Act.] 
 
 The First Scene. 
 
 Enter Severity and his wife, In- 
 dulgence, and their son. Wit. 
 
 Severity. My son, draw near, give ear to 
 
 me, and mark the cause aright 
 For which I call thee to this place ; let all thy 
 
 whole delight [virtue's trace; 
 
 Be still in serving God aright ; aild trading 
 And labour learning for to get whilst thou hast 
 
 time and space. 
 I now have brought thee on the way the thing 
 
 for to attain ; 
 Which, son, if thou might'st hap to hit, will 
 
 turn unto thy gain. 
 Thou knowest how chargeable a thing thy 
 
 learning is to me ; 
 Thou knowest also the care I take for to pro- 
 vide for thee ; 
 And now, since that thine age draw on to 
 
 nature's riper state, 
 My purpose is and full intent to find for thee a 
 
 mate 
 With whom thou mayest dispend the rest of 
 
 this thy life to come; [mother, done. 
 
 And joy as I, thy father, have with this, thy
 
 Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. i 261 
 
 Indulgence. Indeed, good husband, that 
 
 were good — we have no more but he ; 
 My heart, methinks, would be at rest him 
 
 matched for to see. 
 But yet, my dear Severity, be heedful, for your 
 
 life, 
 That she be able for to live that he shall take 
 
 to wife. 
 Severity. Well, as for that I shall foresee ; 
 
 for why, I know right well [doth excel ; 
 That she whom I do mean is rich, and highly 
 Wherefore, son Wit, mark well my tale ! Dame 
 
 Wisdom is the wight 
 Whom you shall labour to espouse with all 
 
 your main and might. 
 And if that she will be your wife, look what I 
 
 leave behind : 
 You shall possess it full and whole, according 
 
 unto kind ; 
 But if you find some worser haunt, and hap to 
 
 run by rote, 
 I promise thee, before these folk, thoust never 
 
 cost me groat. 
 Wit. Dear father, for your grave advice 
 
 right humble thanks I give, [shall live; 
 
 Intending to obey your charge so long as I 
 Now if that Wit with Wisdom may be linked 
 
 fast in love. 
 Then Wit shall think himself right blest of 
 
 God that sits above ! 
 Indulgence. Well said, good Wit, and hold 
 
 thee there, I tell thee this before : 
 Indulgence, when thou married art, hath butter 
 
 f)ence in store. 
 Severity. vSuch pamp'ring mothers do more 
 
 harm than e'er they can do good.
 
 262 Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. i 
 
 Indulgence. If you had felt the pain we 
 
 feci, you then would change your mood. 
 Severity. You show that you the mother are 
 
 of this the outward man, 
 And not of mine ; for, if you were, you would 
 
 be careful then [aspire 
 
 To give him counsel ; how to use himself for to 
 To Wisdom's friendships and her love, the 
 
 which we do desire. 
 Indulgence. Alas ! good sir ; why hearken, 
 
 Wit, what counsel I can give; 
 Whenas thou com'st to Wisdom's house, then 
 
 may'st thou it appreve : 
 Take heed that thou art neat and fine, and go 
 
 straight bolt upright, [first sight. 
 
 And cast a cheerful look on her, smiling at the 
 And when thou com'st to talk with her, forget 
 
 not for to praise 
 Her house, herself, and all her things, and still 
 
 be glad to please ; [sight, 
 
 Be diligent to do for her, be pleasant in her 
 Say as she saith, although that she do say the 
 
 crow is white; [red gold, 
 
 And if she have mind to ought, although it cost 
 Provide it for her, and thou may'st be more 
 
 welcome and more bold ! 
 Severity. See ! see ! what counsel you can 
 
 give; you show your nature plain; 
 This counsel liketh Wit right well, and mak'th 
 
 him ail-too fain. 
 But, sirrah ! if thou list to thrive, mark well 
 
 what I shall say, [ready way : 
 
 That Wisdom may become your wife this is the 
 Apply your book and still beware of Idleness, 
 
 I say, [day. 
 
 For he a enemy hath been to Virtue many a
 
 Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. i 263 
 
 Beware of Irksomeness, I say, which is a 
 
 monster fell, 
 
 And near to lady Wisdom's house doth always 
 
 use to dwell ; [Idleness ; 
 
 For he will have a fling- at you, and so will 
 
 Therefore, beware of these two folks, and God 
 
 will sure you bless. 
 
 Wit. As duty doth require in me, I thank 
 
 you humbly [earnestly 
 
 For these your fatherly precepts, and purpose 
 
 For to observe that you command, and these 
 
 my foes to watch. 
 Lest they, perhaps, ere I beware, me in their 
 snares should catch. 
 Indulgence. Well, yet before thee goest, 
 hold ! hear my blessing- in a clout. 
 Well fare the mother at a need, stand to thy 
 tackling stout ! 
 Wit. Mother, I thank you heartily, and 
 you, father, likewise; [my enterprise. 
 
 And both your blessings here I crave in this 
 Both. God bless thee. Wit, our son, and 
 
 send thee good success. 
 Wit. I thank you both, and pray to God 
 to send to you no less ! 
 
 Exeunt Seventy and Indulgence. 
 Wit. God grant this my purpose may come 
 unto good effect ; 
 Well, now I must about this gear, I must it not 
 forget. Exit.
 
 ^4 Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. 2 
 
 [The First Act.] 
 
 The Second Scene. 
 
 Enter Idleness, the vice. 
 [Idleness.] Ah ! sirrah ! my masters ! how 
 
 fare you at this blessed day? 
 What, I ween all this company are come to see 
 
 a play ! 
 What lackest thee, good fellow? didst thee 
 
 ne'er see man before? 
 Here is a gazing ! I am the best man in the 
 
 company when there is no more. 
 As for my properties I am sure you know them 
 
 of old : 
 I can eat till I sweat, and work till I am a-cold. 
 I am always troubled with the litherlurden, I 
 
 love so to li[n]ger ; 
 I am so lazy the moss groweth an inch thick 
 
 on the top of my finger ! 
 But if you list to know my name, I wis I am 
 
 too well known to some men : [pan I 
 
 My name is Idleness, the flower of the frying- 
 My mother had two whelps at one litter, both 
 
 born in Lent ; 
 So we were both put into a mussel-boat, 
 And came sailing in a sow's ear over sea 
 
 into Kent. 
 My brother, Irksomeness, and I catch the dog. 
 Being disposed to make merry, 
 We got us both down to Harlowe-bery. 
 But what is that to the purpose — perhaps you 
 
 would know? 
 Give me leave but a little, and I will you show. 
 My name is Idleness, as I told you before, 
 And my mother, Ignorance, sent me hither;
 
 Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. 2 265 
 
 I pray thee, sirrah ! what more? 
 Marry, my masters ! she sent me the counter- 
 feit crank for to play ; [way ; 
 And to lead Wit, Severity's son, out of the 
 He should mock a marriage with Wisdom, in 
 
 all haste, as they talk ; [malt — 
 
 But stay there awhile ! — soft fire makes sweet 
 I must be firm to bring him out of his brown 
 
 study, on this fashion : 
 I will turn my name from Idleness to Honest 
 
 Recreation; [tonness's man; 
 
 And then I will bring him to be Mistress Wan- 
 And afaith ! then he is in for a beard, get out 
 
 how he can ! 
 But soft yet, my masters ! who is within? 
 Open the door and pull out the pin ! 
 
 Wantonness entereth, and sayeth : 
 What, Doll, I say, open the door ! Who is in 
 
 the street? [feet. 
 
 What, Mr. Idleness ! lay a straw under your 
 I pray you, and me may ask you what wind 
 
 brought you hither? 
 Idleness. A little wind ; I warrant you 
 I am as light as any feather ! 
 But, hark thee! [Whispers. 
 
 Wantonness. What, it is not so? will he 
 
 come indeed? 
 Idleness. Nay, if I say the word thou 
 
 mayest believe, as thy creed ; 
 But when he comes, you must be courteous, 
 
 I tell you, 
 And you shall find him as gentle as a falcon. 
 Every fool's fellow. 
 What, methinks you are with child ! 
 
 Wantonness. Nay, my belly doth swell with 
 
 eating of eggs.
 
 266 Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. 2 
 
 Idleness. Nay, by St, Anne, I am afraid it 
 is a timpany with two legs ! 
 Away, get thee in ! Exit. 
 
 Enter Wit. 
 [Wit.] My father, he hath charged me the 
 thing to take in hand. 
 Which seems to me to be so hard, it cannot 
 
 well be scanned ; 
 For I have toiled in my book where Wisdom 
 much is praised, [eased ; 
 
 But she is so hard to find that I am nothing 
 I would I had been set to blow, or to some 
 other trade, [shift have made. 
 
 And then I might some leisure find, and better 
 But now I swink and sweat in vain ; my labour 
 
 hath no end ; 
 And, moping in my study still, my youthful 
 
 years I spend. 
 Would God that I might hap to hit upon some 
 
 good resort, 
 Some pleasant pastime for to find, and use 
 some better sport. 
 Idleness. Marry! no better; I am even as 
 fit for that purpose as a rope for a thief; 
 And you will be lusty, cry Hay ! amongst 
 knaves I am the chief, [thy name? 
 
 Wit. What, good fellow, art thou? what is 
 Idleness. In faith I am Ipse, he, even the 
 very same ! [country ; 
 
 A man of great estimation in mine own 
 I was never stained but once, falling out of my 
 mother's plum tree. 
 Wit. Thou art a merry fellow and wise and 
 
 if thou keep thyself warm. 
 Idleness. In faith, I have a mother-wit, 
 but I think no harm.
 
 Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. 2 267 
 
 Wit. I pray thee, what is thy name? to me 
 
 it declare. 
 Idleness. Nay, I am no nig^gard of my name, 
 for that I will not spare. [now, 
 
 Ha ! by the mass ! I could have told you, even 
 What a short-brained villain am I : I am as 
 wise as my mother's sow ! [tell? 
 
 I pray you, sir, what is my name? cannot you 
 Is there any here that knows where my god- 
 father doth dwell? 
 Gentlemen, if you will tarry while I go look, 
 I am sure my name is in the church book. 
 Wit. I prithee, come off ! and tell me thy 
 name with readiness. [name is Idleness. 
 Idleness. Faith, if you will needs know, my 
 Wit. Marry ! fie on thee, knave ! I mean 
 
 not thy company. 
 Idleness. What, because I spoke in jest, 
 will you take it so angrily? 
 For my name is Honest Recreation, I let you 
 
 well to wit. 
 There is not in all the world a companion for 
 you more fit. [tion 
 
 Wit. And if thy name be Honest Recrea- 
 Thou art as welcome as any in this land. 
 Idleness. Yea, marry is it ! 
 Wit. Why, then, give me thy hand. 
 Idleness. In faith, I thank you. You are 
 come of a gentle birth ; 
 And, therefore, I will bring you acquainted with 
 a gentlewoman called Modest Mirth. 
 Wit. Yea, marry ! with all my heart, and 
 God have mercy ! [us go. 
 
 Idleness. Why then, come away, come ! let 
 [Exit Wit. Enter Wantonness. 
 Ho, God be here !
 
 268 Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. 2 
 
 Wantonness. What, Master Honest Re- 
 creation, I pray you draw near. 
 Idleness. Nay, I pray you come hither; 
 
 come, I pray ye. 
 Wantonness. I come. 
 Idleness. Nay, but in any wise hide your 
 
 belly. 
 Wantonness. It is a child of your getting. 
 Idleness. I, it hath fathers at large; 
 But here comes in Wit that is like to bear all 
 
 the charge. [Wit returns. 
 
 Gentleman, here is the gentlewoman ! 
 Kiss her, I say, I am a whoreson else ! 
 If I had know[n] you would not have kissed her 
 I would have kissed her myself. 
 
 Wit. Gentlewoman, this shall be to desire 
 
 you of more acquaintance. 
 Wantonness. Sir, a ought I may pleasure 
 you I will give attendance ; 
 To have many suitors my lot doth befall, 
 But yet methink I like you best of all. 
 
 Idleness. Yea, she might have had many 
 
 men of knavery and of stealth. 
 Wantonness. What sayest thou? 
 Idleness. Marry ! you might have had many 
 men of bravery and wealth ; 
 But yet methinks there cannot be a match more 
 
 fit 
 Than between Mistress Modest Mirth and you, 
 Master Wit. 
 Wantonness. That is well said. 
 Idleness. Yea, and that will be a ready 
 
 carriage to the rope. 
 Wantonness. What sayest thou? 
 Idleness. That will be a speedy marriage, 
 I hope.
 
 Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. 2 269 
 
 Wantonness. By my troth ! I am so weary, 
 
 I must needs sit down ; 
 
 My legs will not hold me. [be so bold. 
 
 Wit. Then will I sit down by you, if I may 
 
 Idleness. Here is love, sir reverence ! this 
 
 gear is even fit ; [of wit ! 
 
 Oh ! here is a head hath a counting-house full 
 
 Wit. I am sure you are cunning in music, 
 And therefore, if you please, sing us a song. 
 Wantonness. That will I, if it were for your 
 ease. 
 
 Here shall Wantonness sing this song to 
 the tune of " Attend thee, go play 
 thee " ; and having sung him asleep 
 upon her lap, let him snort; then let 
 her set a fool's bauble on his head, 
 and colling his face : and Idleness shall 
 steal away his purse from him, and go 
 his ways. 
 
 The Song. 
 Lie still, and here nest thee ; 
 Good Wit, lie and rest thee. 
 And in my lap take thou thy sleep; 
 Since Idleness brought thee. 
 And now I have caught thee, 
 I charge thee let care away creep. 
 So now that he sleeps full soundly, 
 Now purpose I roundly, 
 Trick this pretty doddy. 
 And make him a noddy. 
 And make him a noddy 1 
 
 Since he was unstable, 
 He now wears a bable, 
 Since Idleness led him away; 
 And now of a scholar
 
 27° Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. 2 
 
 / will make him a collier, 
 
 Since Wantonness beareth the sway: 
 
 Well, now I have him changed, 
 
 I needs must be ranging; 
 
 I now must go pack me, 
 
 For my gossips will lack me, 
 
 For my, C-yc. 
 
 Enter Good Nurture, speaking this: 
 
 I marvel where my schollard, Wit, is now of 
 
 late become ? [run ; 
 
 I fear lest with ill company he happen for to 
 
 For I, Good Nurture, commonly among all 
 
 men am counted, 
 But Wit, by this his straying so, I fear hath 
 
 me renounced. 
 Severity, his father, sure is grave and wise 
 
 withal. 
 But yet his mother's pamp'ring will bring his 
 son to thrall. 
 
 Here he stayeth, stumbling at Wit as 
 he lieth asleep. 
 Why, how now ! ho ! what wight is this on 
 
 whom we now have hit? 
 Soft ! let me see ; this same is he ; yea, truly, 
 
 this is Wit ! Here he awaketh him. 
 
 What, Wit, I say, arise for shame ! O God ! 
 where hast thou been? [wast in. 
 
 The company made thee a fool that thou of late 
 Here he riseth, rubbing his eyes, and 
 saying : 
 O, arrant strumpet that she was that ran me 
 in this case ! 
 Good Nurture. Nay, rather thou art much 
 to blame to be with such in place. 
 
 Here he [i.e.. Wit] washeth his face and 
 taketh off the bauble.
 
 Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. 3 271 
 
 Come on, I say, amend this gear, beware of 
 
 all temptation ; [Recreation. 
 
 Your weariness for to refresh, take Honest 
 
 He delivereth him Honest Recreation. 
 
 Wit. I thank you, Mr. Nurture, much for 
 
 this your gentleness, [with willingness. 
 
 And will do your commandments henceforth 
 
 Good Nurture. God grant you may; and, 
 
 sirrah ! you await upon him still. Exit. 
 Wit. I thank you, sir, with all my heart, 
 for this your great good will ; 
 One journey more I mean to make, I think I 
 
 was accurst ! 
 God grant the second time may be more happy 
 than the first ! They both go out. 
 
 [The First Act.] 
 
 Third Scene. 
 
 Enter Idleness. 
 
 [Idleness.] Ah ! sirrah ! it is an old proverb 
 
 and a true, I swear by the rood ! 
 It is an ill wind that blows no man to good. 
 When I had brought Wit into Wantonness' 
 
 hampering, [pering. 
 
 Then thought I it was time for me to be tem- 
 The cook is not so soon gone as the dog's head 
 
 is in the porridge-pot ; 
 Wit was not so soon asleep but my hand was 
 
 in his hose. [old rig ; 
 
 Wantonness is a drab ! for the nonce she is an 
 But as for mc, my fingers are as good as a lime 
 
 twig.
 
 272 Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. 3 
 
 Now am I new arrayed like a physician ; now 
 
 do 1 not pass, [I was; 
 
 I am as ready to cog with Mr. Wit as ever 
 I am as very a turncoat as the weathercock of 
 
 Poles ; 
 For now I will call my name Due Disport, fit 
 
 for all souls — 
 Yea, so, so findly I can turn the cat in the pan. 
 Now shall you hear how findly Master Doctor 
 
 can play the outlandish man. 
 Ah ! by Got, me be the Doctor ; me am the fine 
 
 knave, I tell ye, 
 And have the good medicine for the maiden's 
 
 belly : 
 Me have the excellent medicine for the blains 
 
 and blister. [the glister ! 
 
 Ah ! me am the knave to give the fair maid 
 How like you this, my masters? 
 The bee have no so many herbs whereout to 
 
 suck honey. 
 As I can find shifts whereby to get money. 
 
 Enter Snatch and Catch. 
 Idleness. But, soft ! awhile, my masters ! 
 
 who have we here? 
 These be crafty knaves ; and, therefore, lie thou 
 
 there ! 
 
 Lay down the purse in a corner. 
 The song that Snatch and Catch singeth 
 together. 
 7 hath been told, been told, in proverbs old, 
 That soldiers suffer both hunger and cold. 
 That soldiers suffer both hunger and cold; 
 And this sing we, and this sing we. 
 We live by spoil, by spoil, we moil and toil; 
 Thus Snatch and Catch doth keep a coil! 
 And thus live we, and thus live we,
 
 Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. 3 273 
 
 By snatching a[nd] catching, thus live we. 
 We come from sea, from sea, from many a 
 
 fray. 
 To pilling and polling every day. 
 To pilling and polling every day : 
 And thus skip we, and thus skip we, 
 And over the hatches thus skip we! 
 
 Catch. Hey, lively ! by the guts of a crab- 
 louse. Snatch, 
 This is an excellent sport ! [port, 
 
 Now we are come from Flushing to the English 
 There shall not a fat pouch 
 Come nodding by the way 
 
 But Snatch and Catch will desire him to stay. 
 Snatch. Yea, by the hogshead. Catch ! now 
 we will lick the spickets ; 
 But, by the mass ! my hose be full of Spanish 
 
 crickets ! 
 Sirrah, dost thou not know Idleness, that 
 counterfeit knave? 
 Catch. Yea ! by St. Jane ! I know him well 
 for a knave. [him get. 
 
 He hath his purse full of money if we could 
 Snatch. Where had he it? 
 Catch. I tell thee, Snatch, he stole it from 
 Wit. [readiness. 
 
 Snatch. Who told thee so? declare it with 
 Catch. By the brains of a black pudding ! 
 'Tis such a knave thou hast not heard : 
 It was told me of Wantonness. 
 
 Here they espy him. 
 Idleness. Ah, that drab ! she can cackle like 
 a caddow ; 
 I pray you behold, my masters ! 
 A man may shape none by -their shadow. 
 
 A.I'. IV. T
 
 274 Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. 3 
 
 Snatch. O, wonderful ! I would he were 
 
 burst. 
 Catch. Nay, I pray thee let me speak first. 
 Master Idleness, I am glad to see you merry, 
 heartily. 
 Idleness. In faith, I thank you. 
 But I had rather have your room as your 
 company. 
 Snatch. Master Idleness, how have you 
 
 done in a long time? 
 Idleness. Come, come, an hand of you to 
 
 pick a purse of mine. 
 
 Catch. Nay, sir, I hope you trust us better; 
 
 I must needs borrow your ring to seal a letter. 
 
 Idleness. By my leave, in spite of my teeth ; 
 
 God a mercy horse ! 
 
 This is that must needs be, quoth the good 
 
 man. 
 When he made his wife pin the basket. 
 
 Patience, perforce ! 
 Well, my masters, if you will go with me, 
 I will carry you to an old wife that [there ! 
 ]\Iakes puddings of her arse : hold your nose 
 And if you will, you may have legs of mutton 
 stuffed with hair. 
 Catch. This is a crafty fox, but, by a 
 herring toke ! 
 I have a good nose to be a poor man's sow : 
 I can smell an apple seven mile in a hay mow. 
 Ubi animus, ibi oculus ; where he loves there 
 
 he looks. 
 Hey, lively ! these will help to bring me out of 
 John Tapster's books. 
 
 'Now he shall find the purse. Here after 
 they have sc[r]ambled for the money, 
 they shall spit in the purse and give it 
 him again.
 
 Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. 3 275 
 
 Snatch. Hold, here ! thou shalt not lose 
 aU; 
 Thy purse shall not come home weeping- for 
 
 loss; 
 And as for thee, thou shalt be commist to 
 Dawe's cross. 
 Idleness. Evil gotten worse spent, by theft 
 this money came ; 
 I got it with the devil, and now it is gone 
 with his name ! 
 Catch. But, sirrah ! if we let him escape, 
 perhaps we may have a check ; 
 If we should chance to look throug^h an hemp 
 window, and our arse break our neck. 
 Snatch. Why, we will pull him up by a 
 rope to the top of the house. 
 And then let him fall. 
 
 Catch. Nay, then, I know a better way; 
 We will run his arse against the wall ! 
 
 Snatch. Nay, by the mass ! I have a devise 
 much more meet ; 
 Where I lay last night, I stale away a sheet : 
 We will take this and tie it to his head, 
 And so we will blind him ; 
 
 And, sirrah ! I charge you, when you hear any- 
 body coming. 
 If they ask you any question, say you go 
 a-mumming. 
 
 Here they turn him about, and hind his 
 hands behind him, and tie the sheet 
 about his face. 
 Idleness. A-mumming, quoth you? why, 
 there can be nothing worse 
 Than for a man to go a-mumming when he 
 hath no money in his purse. 
 Catch. Well, yet we charge you to do on 
 this fashion.
 
 276 Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. 3 
 
 Snatch. Farewell, Mr. Idleness, and re- 
 member your lesson. 
 
 Here they run one to one corner of the 
 stage, and the other to the other, and 
 speak like countrymen, to beguile 
 him. 
 Idleness. Ah, sirrah ! in faith this gear 
 cottons : I go still a-mumming; 
 Even poor I, all alone, without either pipe or 
 drumming. 
 Snatch. Good day, neighbour, good day ! 
 'Tis a fair grey morning, God be blessed ! 
 Catch. I, by Gis ! 'twould be trim weather 
 and if it were not for this mist. 
 What, those fellows be all day at breakfast; 
 
 I ween they make feasts. 
 
 What, Jack, I say, I must hang you before you 
 
 will serve the beasts ! [we here? 
 
 How now? God's daggers ! death ! who have 
 
 Idleness. Oh, for the passion of God, loose 
 
 me ! [I got this year. 
 
 False knaves have robbed me of all the money 
 
 Here they beat him. 
 Snatch. Yea, ye rascal, is the matter so 
 plain? [again. 
 
 Come, come, we must teach him his lesson 
 Catch. Sirrah"! now you have learnt a 
 trick for your coming : 
 When anybody cometh, say you go a-mumming. 
 Exit Snatch [and] Cat[ch]. 
 Idleness. A-mumming, quoth you? why, 
 this gear will not settle; 
 Either I rose on my left side to-day, or I pissed 
 
 on a nettle. 
 Here is news, [quoth] the fox, when he let a 
 fart in the morning;
 
 Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. 3 277 
 
 If Wantonness knew this, she will never lin 
 
 scorning ; 
 This same is kind cuckold's luck : 
 These fellows have given me a dry pluck ; 
 Now I have never a cross to bless me. 
 Now I go a-mumming, 
 Like a poor penniless spirit, 
 Without pipe or drumming ! 
 
 Enter Wit, and Honest Recreation 
 awaiting on him. 
 Wit. Fie, fie ! what kind of life is this to 
 labour all in vain? 
 To toil to get the thing the which my wit 
 
 cannot attain. 
 
 The journey seemeth wondrous long the which 
 
 1 have to make, [Wisdom's sake ! 
 
 To tear myself and beat my brains, and all for 
 
 And yet, God knows what may befall, and 
 
 what luck God will send, [journey's end. 
 
 If she will love me when I come at this my 
 
 This Honest Recreation delights me not at all ; 
 
 For, when I spend the time with him I bring 
 
 mvself in thrall ! 
 
 Here he steppeth back, having espied 
 Idleness. 
 But soft! what have we here? some ghost or 
 deadly spirit, [to affright. 
 
 That comes our journey for to stay, and us for 
 Idleness. Yea, by the mass ! what, arc ye 
 coming? 
 In faith, I am a penniless spirit; I go still 
 a-mumming. 
 Wit. I conjure thee to tell me what art 
 thou, 
 A man, a monster, a spirit, or what would'st 
 thou have?
 
 «78 Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. 3 
 
 Idleness. I am neither man, monster, nor 
 
 spirit, but a poor, penniless knave ! 
 Wit. Wherefore is thy coming? 
 Idleness. Marry, to go a-mumming. 
 Wit. Yea, but what art thou? May not 
 
 that be known? 
 Idleness. Why, what am I but a knave 
 
 when all my money is gone? 
 Wit. Come, tell me thy name : I pray thee 
 
 have done. 
 Idleness. A good honest knave's : have ye 
 
 forgot so soon? 
 Wit. Why, but will ye not tell me how thou 
 
 camest thus dressed ! 
 Idleness. In faith, gentle thieves ! you your- 
 selves know best. 
 Wit. Do I? why, thou dost not know me; 
 
 the whoreson patch I 
 Idleness. Yes, I know it is either Snatch 
 or Catch. 
 But in faith, gentle thieves ! I go still a-mum- 
 ming, [ming. 
 Although it be either without pipe or drum- 
 Here shall Wit pull off the sheet, 
 saying. 
 Wit. How sayest thou now? canst thou not 
 see? 
 I pray thee tell me, dost thou know me? 
 Idleness. Oh, the body of a gorge, I would 
 I had them here; 
 In faith ! I would chop them — they were not 
 
 so hack this seven year ! 
 Why, I am so cold that my teeth chatter m 
 
 my head ! 
 I have stood here three days and three nights 
 without either meat or bread.
 
 Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. 3 279 
 
 Wit. I pray thee, what is thy name, and 
 
 whither dost thou resort? 
 Idleness. Forsooth ! for fault of a better 
 
 is Due Disport. 
 Wit. Didst not thee call thyself Honest Re- 
 creation, which deceived me once? 
 Idleness. Why, I am a physician. If it 
 were I — a knave shake my bones ! 
 I am a great traveller ; I 'light on the dung- 
 hill like a puttock ! 
 Nay, take me with a lie, and cut out the brain 
 of my buttock. 
 Wit. If thy name be Due Disport, I would 
 be acquainted with thee ; 
 For in sport I delight. 
 
 Idleness. Not under a couple of capons, and 
 they must be white. 
 But if you will be acquainted with me, as you 
 
 say, 
 Then must you send this companion away; 
 For you and I must walk alone. 
 
 Wit. Why, then, sirrah ! away, get you 
 
 gone ! Exit Honest Recreation. 
 
 Idleness. So now, come on with me to a 
 friend's house of mine. 
 That there we may to some spKjrt. 
 Wit. Come on, then ! 
 
 Here Idleness havinfr hrought him to 
 the den of Irksomcness. shall leap 
 away, and Irksomeness enter like a 
 monster, and shall heat down Wit 
 with his club, sayinfr, 
 Irksomeness. What wight is that which 
 comes so near his pain? 
 
 Tfrre they jif^ht. Wit falls do7vn. 
 Wit. Alas, alas, now am I stunned !
 
 28o Wit and Wisdom, Act I,, Sc. 3 
 
 Irksomeness. Nay, nay, no force I thou 
 mightest a-further stood ; 
 If thou hadst 'scape safe by any den. 
 Thy luck were too-too goo[d]. Exit. 
 
 Irksomeness leaveih him dead on the 
 stage. Enter Wisdom and sayeth, 
 [Wisdom.] Of late abroad I heard report 
 that Wit makes many vows. 
 The lady Wisdom if he may to wife for to 
 
 espouse ; 
 But it I fear both Idleness and Irksomeness 
 
 will sonder. 
 Soft ! this same is Wit, that lieth bleeding 
 yonder. 
 
 Here she helpeth him up. 
 
 What, Wit ! be of good cheer and now I will 
 
 sustain thee. 
 
 Wit. O, Lady Wisdom ! so I would but 
 
 Irksomeness hath slain me. [tell, 
 
 Wisdom. Well, yet arise, and do as I shall 
 
 And then, I warrant thee ! thou shalt do well. 
 
 Wit. I thank you much : and though that I 
 
 am very much aggrieved. 
 
 Yet, since your coming, sure methinks I am 
 
 right well relieved : [partly guess 
 
 You show your courtesy herein, wherein I 
 
 That you do know the cause right well of this 
 
 my deep distress. [obtain ; 
 
 My father bade me labour still your favour to 
 
 But it before I could you see, full great hath 
 
 been my pain. 
 First Idleness he brought me woe; then Wan- 
 tonness stepped in ; [doth begin. 
 And, last of all, foul Irksomeness his part he 
 Wisdom. I think right well ; for many a 
 one hath come to sore decay
 
 Wit and Wisdom, Act I., Sc. 3 281 
 
 When as it happed that Irksomeness hath met 
 
 them in the way. 
 For I, poor Wisdom, here am placed among 
 
 these craggy cHfts, 
 And he that seeks to win my love must venture 
 
 many shifts ; 
 But it I bear thee great good will, and here I 
 
 promise thee, 
 If thou canst Irksomeness destroy, thy lady 
 
 I will be ; 
 And to the end that may be done, which I 
 
 might well afford, 
 Hold here. Perseverance, I say, a good and 
 
 lucky sword ; 
 And call for Irksomeness, and let him feel thy 
 
 force : [remorse ! 
 
 Be stout ! for if he overcome he will have no 
 
 Wit. My madam dear, behold the wight 
 
 which fears not, for thy love. 
 To fight with men and monsters both, as 
 
 straight I shall it prove. 
 Wisdom. Well, do so then; 
 The whiles I will depart. 
 
 Wit. I thank you, lady Wisdom, much; 
 
 farewell, with all my heart. 
 
 Exit Wisdom. Wit calleth forth Irk- 
 someness. 
 Well, once more have at Irksomeness ! come 
 
 forth, thou monster fell ! 
 I hope yet now the second time thy pride and 
 
 force to quell. 
 
 Enter Irksomeness, saying, 
 [Irksomeness.] What ! who is that that 
 
 calls me forth? What, art thou yet alive? 
 If th;it I catch thee once again, thou shalt no 
 
 more revive !
 
 282 Wit and Wisdom, Act II., Sc i 
 
 Wit. Leave off thy brags, and do thy 
 worst ; 
 Thy words may not prevail at first. 
 
 Here they fight awhile, and Irksome- 
 ness must run in a-doors, and Wit 
 shall follow, taking his visor off his 
 head, and shall bring it in upon his 
 sword, saying, 
 The Lord be thanked for his grace, this 
 
 monster is subdued ; 
 And I, which erst was worn with woe, am now 
 
 with joy renewed ! 
 Well, now before that I unto Dame Wisdom's 
 
 house repair, 
 I will unto my father go, these news for to 
 declare. Exit. 
 
 [The Second Act.] 
 The First Scene. 
 
 Enter Idleness, halting with a stilt, and 
 shall carry a cloth upon a staff, like 
 a rat-catcher, and say, 
 [Idleness.] Have you any rats or mice, pole- 
 cats or weasels? 
 Or is there any old sows sick of the measles? 
 I can destroy fulmers and catch moles ; 
 I have ratsbane, maidens, 
 
 To spoil all the vermin that run in your holes. 
 A rat-catcher, quoth you, this is a strange occu- 
 pation ; 
 But everywhere for Idleness they make pro- 
 clamation ; 
 They say he shall be hanged for cozening of 
 Wit:
 
 Wit and Wisdom, Act II., Sc. i 283 
 
 But there is a town called Hopshort ; they have 
 me not yet ! [known, 
 
 I can go hard by their noses and never be 
 Like a rat-catcher, till Search be gone. 
 
 Here he espieth Search coming in, and 
 
 goeth up and down, saying, " Have 
 
 you any rats and mice?" as in the 
 
 first five lines. 
 
 Search. Here is a moiling- : they would have 
 
 a man do more than he is able : 
 
 One were better to be hanged than to be a 
 
 constable ! 
 I have searched for a knave called Idleness, 
 But I cannot find him for all my business : 
 The knave they say has cozened Wit and 
 shored him on the shelf. 
 Idleness. Yea, if you take not heed he will 
 
 go nigh to cozen yourself. 
 Search. What ! dost thee know him, good 
 
 fellow? I pray thee now tell. 
 Idleness. Do I know? why, I tell thee I 
 
 have ratsbane to sell. 
 Search. Ratsbane ! tut a point ! Dost thou 
 
 know Idleness? tell me! 
 Idleness. Why, I tell thee I know him as 
 well as he knows me : 
 I ween he be a tall man, and I trow he struts. 
 And he be not a knave, I would he had a pound 
 of ratsbane in his guts. 
 Search. Yea, but where is he? canst thou 
 
 tell? 
 Idleness. No, faith ! not well. 
 Search. Yea, but mcthinks thou art lame. 
 Idleness. Yea, you may see such luck have 
 they which use game. [twice kill'd ; 
 
 I have been at St. Ouintin's where I was
 
 284 Wit and Wisdom, Act II., Sc i 
 
 I have been at Musselborough at the Scottish 
 
 field ; [many-a-where, 
 
 I have been in the land of green ginger and 
 
 Where I have been shot through both the 
 
 buttocks by an harquebusier : [defend, 
 
 But now I am old, and have nought myself to 
 
 And am fain to be a rat-catcher to mine end ! 
 
 Here shall Search take out a piece of 
 
 paper and look on it. 
 
 Search. What shall I give thee to cry a 
 
 proclamation ? 
 Idleness. For half a score pots of beer I 
 will cry it after the best fashion. 
 
 Here shall Search reach a chair, and 
 Idleness shall go up and make the 
 proclamation. 
 Search. Come ! get up here ; you must say 
 
 as I say. 
 Idleness. Ho ! and you say I am a knave 
 
 then must I needs say Nay. 
 Search. First, cry " Oyez " a good while. 
 Idleness. Very well. He cries too long. 
 Search. Enough ! enough ! what, hast thou 
 
 never done? 
 Idleness. What, didst not thee bid me cry 
 
 long? I have not scarce begun ! 
 Search. Go too; cry shorter, with a venge- 
 ance ! 
 Idleness. " Oyez ! oyez ! oyez ! oyez ! " 
 
 Very often. 
 Search. What, I think thou art mad ! 
 Idleness. Why, would you not have me do 
 
 as you bad? 
 Search. Why, canst thou keep no mean? 
 Idleness. "Oyez!" 
 
 Here he shall cry well.
 
 Wit and Wisdom, Act II., Sc. i 285 
 
 Search. That is very well said. 
 
 Idleness. That is very well said ! 
 
 Search. What, I ween thou be'st drunk 
 
 to-day ! 
 Idleness. Why, did you not bid me say as 
 
 you did say? 
 Search. Come! say, "One, the King's 
 
 Most Royal Majesty." 
 Idleness. John King gave a royal to lie 
 
 with Marjorie. 
 Search. "VV^hy, what said I? 
 Idleness. Why, so ! 
 Search. I say, "The King's Most Royal 
 
 Majesty." 
 Idleness. The King's Most Royal Majesty ! 
 Search. " Doth charge you, all his true 
 
 people." 
 Idleness. What, it is not so. 
 Search. What ? 
 Idleness. Why, you say there was a barge 
 
 flew over a steeple ! [people." 
 
 Search. I say, "Doth charge all his true 
 Idleness. Oh, Doth charge all his true 
 
 people; that is another matter. 
 Search. "That they watch elsewhere, and 
 
 see in the town." 
 Idleness. That every patch that a man 
 
 wears on his knee shall cost a crown. 
 Search. Why, what means that? 
 I spake no such word : 
 That they watch elsewhere, 
 And see in each town." 
 
 Idleness. That they watch, &c. 
 
 Search. " If that Idleness by any means 
 
 they can find." 
 Idleness. No, marry, you say not true.
 
 286 Wit and Wisdom, Act II., Sc. 2 
 
 Search. What is that? 
 
 Idleness. It is not for Idleness that men 
 
 sow beans in the wind. 
 Search. " If that Idleness by any means 
 
 they can find." Pull him down. 
 
 Idleness. If that Idleness, &c. 
 Search. Come down, with a pestilence ! A 
 
 murrain ride thee ! 
 Idleness. Here is g-ood thanks, my masters. 
 
 Come, give me my fee ! 
 Search. Come ! give me sixpence, and I 
 
 will give thee eightpence. 
 
 Now shall Search run away with his 
 money, and he shall cast away his 
 stilt, and run after him. 
 
 [The Second Act.] 
 
 The Second Scene. 
 
 Enter Fancy. 
 [Fancy.] Like as the rolling stone, we see, 
 
 doth never gather moss, 
 And gold, with other metals mixed, must needs 
 
 be full of dross ; 
 So likewise I, which commonly Dame Fancy 
 
 have to name, 
 Amongst the wise am hated much, and suffer 
 
 mickle blame, 
 Because that, waving here and there, I never 
 
 steadfast stand, 
 Whereby the depth of learning's lore I cannot 
 
 understand ; 
 But Wit, perhaps, will me embrace, as I will 
 
 use the matter;
 
 Wit and Wisdom, Act II., Sc. 2 287 
 
 For why? I mean to counterfeit, and smoothly 
 
 for to flatter, 
 And say I am a messenger from Lady Wisdom 
 
 sent. 
 To see if that will be a mean to bring him to 
 
 my bent — 
 But see where he doth come. 
 
 Enter Wit. 
 Wit. Like as the silly mariner, amidst the 
 
 waving sea, 
 Doth climb the top of mighty mast full oft both 
 
 night and day ; 
 But yet, at last, when happily he come from 
 
 ship to shore, [before ; 
 
 He seeks to sail again as fresh as erst he did 
 So likewise I, which have escaped the brunts 
 
 which I have done, [first begun ; 
 
 Am even as fresh to venture now as when I 
 A new adventure this I seek, not having run 
 
 my race — [place? 
 
 But who is this whom I behold for to appear in 
 
 Fancy. God save you, gentle Mr. Wit, and 
 
 send you good success ! 
 Wit. Fair Dame ! I thank you heartily, and 
 
 wish in you no less. 
 What, may one be bold to ask your name 
 
 without offence? 
 Fancy. Yea, sir ! with good will, tliat you 
 
 may, and eke my whole pretence : 
 My name is Fancy, and the cause of this my 
 
 coming now [you. 
 
 From lady Wisdom is to show a message unto 
 
 Wit. Then are ye welcome unto me for 
 
 Lady Wisdom's sake. 
 Fancy. Here is the letter which she hade 
 
 me unto you to take.
 
 288 Wit and Wisdom, Act II., Sc. 3 
 
 Here he receiveth the letter, and readeth 
 it to himself. 
 Wit. My lady's will herein is this : that you 
 should go with me 
 Unto a place, with her to meet, as here she 
 doth decree. 
 Fancy. Even so, good sir ! even when you 
 will I do the same allow ; 
 Go you before in at the door, and I will follow 
 you. 
 
 Here Wit going in, one shall pull him 
 by the arm, whereupon he shall cry 
 on this manner. 
 Wit. Alas, I am betrayed ! this sight makes 
 
 me aghast ! 
 
 Fancy. Nay, nay, no force, sir ! I charge 
 
 you [hold] him fast : [with me, 
 
 Now, Wit, if that thou list to match thyself 
 
 Thou shalt be free as e'er thou wast, and now 
 
 released be. 
 
 Wit. Alas ! I am not so ; Dame Wisdom 
 
 hath my heart. 
 Fancy. Then shalt thou lie there still, Iwis, 
 until thou feel'st the smart. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
 [The Second Act.] 
 
 The Third Scene. 
 
 Enter Idleness. 
 This is a world to see how fortune changeth, 
 This shall be his luck which like me rangeth 
 
 and rangeth ; 
 For the honour of Artrebradle,
 
 Wit and Wisdom, Act II., Sc. 3 289 
 
 This ag-e would make me swear madly ! 
 
 Give me one penny or a halfpenny, 
 
 For a poor man that hath had great loss by 
 
 sea, 
 And is in great misery. 
 
 God save my good master, and my good dame, 
 And all the householder ! 
 I pray you bestow your alms of a poor man 
 Nigh starved with cold. 
 Now I am a bold beggar — I tell you, the 
 
 stoutest of all my kin. 
 For if nobody will come out, I will be so bold 
 
 to go in I 
 By'r lady ! here is nobody within but the cat, 
 
 by the fireside : 
 I must needs go in ; whatsoever come of it, 
 
 I cannot abide. 
 
 He goeth on, and hringeth out the 
 porridge pot about his neck. 
 Ah ! sirrah ! my masters ! how sayest thou, 
 
 Hodge? [podge? 
 
 What, art thou hungry? wilt thou eat my 
 Now I provide for a dear year — this will be 
 
 good in Lent ; 
 Well fare a good mess of pottage when the 
 
 herrings be spent. 
 A beggar, quoth you? this gear begins to 
 
 fadge. 
 If ever 1 be a gentleman the pottage pot shall 
 
 be my badge ! 
 Now I am in that taking, I dare not show my 
 
 head ; 
 And all by cozening of Wit 1 am fain to 
 
 beg my hrfrid ! 
 Well, my masters, fare you well! I may per- 
 haps have a check, 
 
 A. I*. IV. U
 
 290 Wit and Wisdom, Act II., Sc. 4 
 
 If the g-ood wife come forth and take the pot- 
 tage-pot about my neck. 
 
 [The Second Act.] 
 The Fourth Scene. 
 
 Enter Doll and Loh. 
 Doll. Oh, the passion of God ! so I shall 
 be swinged ; so, my bones shall be banged ! 
 The porridge-pot is stolen : what, Lob, I say, 
 
 come away, and be hanged ! 
 What, Lob, I say, come away with a foul evil ! 
 Lob. What a lobbing makest thou, with 
 
 a twenty devil ! 
 Doll. Thou hast kept a goodly coil, thou 
 whoreson, hobbling John ! 
 Thou keepest a tumbling of me in the barn, till 
 the porridge-pot is gone. 
 Lob. Nay, thou tumblest down thyself, and 
 was almost bare ; 
 Nay, I will tell my dame how thou would'st 
 needs feel my ware. 
 Doll. Thou liest, whoreson ! thou wilt be 
 
 cudgelled, so thou wilt! 
 Lob. Nay, good Doll, say thee, the por- 
 ridge were all spilt. 
 
 Here entereth Mother Bee, with a stick 
 in her hand. 
 Mother Bee. What, where be these whore- 
 cops? 
 I promise you, you keep a goodly coil; 
 I serve the hogs, I seek hen's nest, 
 I moil and toil ! 
 
 Thanks be to God, gentlewoman, betwixt Tack 
 and Joan,
 
 Wit and Wisdom, Act II., Sc. 4 291 
 
 When I come into breakfast all the pottage is 
 
 gone ! 
 I pray ye, mistress, where is the pottage-pot? 
 is that hid away? 
 Doll. Whilst Lob was kissing me in the 
 
 barn a knave stole it away. 
 Mother Bee. Yea, God's bones ! one can 
 scarce go to pissing 
 But my man and my maid do straight fall to 
 kissing. 
 
 Here she heateth them up and down the 
 stage. 
 Are ye billing? what, my man Lob is become 
 
 a jolly ruffler ! 
 You are billing, you ! I must be fain to be a 
 snuffler. [no more, 
 
 Lob. O, dame, dame, if you will beat me 
 I will tell you a tale ; 
 
 When I was at the town one called you whore. 
 Mother Bee. Ah, whoreson ! thou callest me 
 whore by craft ; 
 Thou art a Kentish man, I trow. 
 
 Lob. Why, Doll will not mend my breech; 
 
 how would you have me go? 
 Doll. He lies. Dame, he lies ! he tears it 
 neither with ploughing nor carting; 
 For it is not so soon mended but he tears it 
 out with farting. 
 
 Enter Inquisition, bringing in Idleness, 
 with the potfage-pot about his neck. 
 Mother Bee. Soft ! who have we here? 
 I am glad as one would give me a crown. 
 What have I spied? by'r lady ! 
 My porridge-pot is come to town. 
 
 Inquisition. What, is this your pottage-pot? 
 Do you know it, if you see it? 
 
 u 2
 
 292 Wit and Wisdom, Act II., Sc. 5 
 
 Mother Bee. Whether it be mine or no he 
 had it from my fireside, 
 He cannot deny it. Exit Mother Bee. 
 
 Lob. O, dame, dame, so I will jerk him, if 
 I had my whip. 
 Sirrah ! Doll, we will accuse him of fellowship. 
 Idleness. Let me alone, and I will tell you 
 who stole your eg'^s ; 
 And, likewise, who stole your cock with the 
 yellow legs. 
 Inquisition. Well, we will have him to a 
 justice : dispatch ! come away ! 
 
 Loh. Yea, and let him be whipped up and 
 down the town next market day. 
 
 Go out all. 
 
 [The Second Act.] 
 
 The Fifth Scene. 
 
 Enter Good Nurture. 
 To them whose shoulders do support the 
 
 charg-e of tender youth. 
 One grief falls on another's neck, and youth 
 
 will have his ruth ; 
 Since first I 'gan to nurture Wit full many 
 
 cares hath passed. 
 But when he had slain Irksomeness, I thought 
 
 me safe at last ; 
 But now I see the very end of that my late 
 
 distress, 
 is a beginning unto griel which will be nothing 
 
 less : 
 For when I thought that Wit of late to 
 
 Wisdom's house had gone,
 
 Wit and Wisdom, Act II., Sc. 5 293 
 
 He came not there, but God knows where this 
 
 retchless Wit is run. 
 Ne know I where to seek him now, whereby 
 
 I learn with pain 
 There is no grief, so far gone past, but may 
 
 return again. 
 
 Here Wit crieth out in prison, and 
 sayeth tJiis, 
 The silly bird, once caught in net, if she 
 
 escape alive, 
 Will come no more so nigh the snare, her free- 
 dom to deprive ; 
 But rather she will leave her haunt, the which 
 
 she used before ; 
 But I, alas ! when steed is stolen, do shut the 
 
 stable door. 
 For being often caught before, yet could I not 
 
 refrain ; [hand again. 
 
 More foolish than the witless bird I came to 
 Alas ! the chains oppress me sore wherewith 
 
 I now am lad, 
 But yet the pain doth pinch me more wherein 
 
 my heart is clad ! 
 O, mighty Jove ! now grant that some good 
 
 man may pass this place, 
 By whose good help I might be brought out of 
 
 this woeful case ! 
 Good Nurture. What noise is this? what 
 
 pitious plaints are sounding in my ear? 
 My heart doth give me it is Wit the which I 
 
 now do hear. 
 I will draw near and see what wight art thou 
 
 He Cometh near the prison. 
 Which dost lament and thus dost pine in pain. 
 IVit. My name is Wit; my grief is great — 
 
 how should I then refrain?
 
 294 Wit and Wisdom, Act II., Sc. 5 
 
 Good Nurture. What, Wit, how earnest 
 
 thou here? O God, what chance is this? 
 
 Wit. Dame Fancy brought me in this case ; 
 
 I know I did amiss. 
 Good Nurture. What, Fancy? Where is 
 
 she? O, that I once migfht catch her. 
 Wit. Would God you could, or else some- 
 one that able were to match her ; 
 But she no sooner heard your voice, there 
 
 standing at the door. 
 Than she with all her folks hath fled, and will 
 
 be seen no more : 
 But I, poor soul, lie here in chains. 
 
 Here entereth and releaseth him Good 
 Nurture. 
 Once more I have released thee of thy pains. 
 Wit. Your most unworthy schoUard gives 
 
 to you immortal thanks. 
 Good Nurture. I pray you now take better 
 heed you play no more such pranks ; 
 Pluck up your spirits, your marriage day is 
 
 come even at hand. 
 To-morrow Wisdom shall you wed, I let you 
 understand. 
 Wit. Right so ; as you think good I shall 
 
 contented be. 
 Good Nurture. Then let us go for to pre- 
 pare; come on, I say, with me! 
 
 Exeunt. 
 Enter Idleness like a priest. 
 Ah, sirrah ! my masters ! there is much ado 
 when fortune is lowering ; [ing"- 
 
 O the passion of God ! I have escaped a scour- 
 Here hath been heave and shove, this gear is 
 not fit; [Wit: 
 
 In faith, I have lie in the lurch for cozening of
 
 Wit and Wisdom, Act II., Sc. 5 295 
 
 Now shall he be married in all the haste ; 
 When Wit and Wisdom is joined together, 
 
 then I am rejected. 
 Well it I can shift elsewhere so long as I am 
 
 not detected. 
 Detected I cannot well be ; I am of that con- 
 dition 
 That I can turn into all colours like the 
 
 chameleon : 
 Although some do refuse me, and some leaden- 
 heeled lubber will not refrain me; 
 And when men hath done with me women will 
 
 retain me ! 
 Idleness, the[y] say, is the mother of vice; 
 Through Idleness fell the Trojans, and the 
 
 Greeks won the prize. [ill deeds : 
 
 Idleness breedeth evil thoughts whereof come 
 Idleness is a cockadill, and great mischief 
 
 breeds. 
 I give myself a good report — my masters ! 
 
 you may think the best; [rest. 
 
 He that loveth me shall have small joy of his 
 King Amasis made a law and bound his 
 
 subjects to it fast. 
 To give an account whereupon they lived the 
 
 year last past ; 
 .And if any lived idly, without any regard, 
 The punishment was grievous they did him 
 
 award : 
 But now I can escape from all such peril, 
 And play the purveyor here in earth for the 
 
 devil. 
 Well, my masters ! I must be gone this 
 
 marriage to see ; 
 Thev that list not to work let them follow me. 
 
 Exit.
 
 296 Wit and Wisdom, Act II., Sc. 6 
 
 [The Second Act.] 
 
 The Sixth Scene. 
 
 Enter Severity and Wit. 
 Severity. Well now, son Wit ! the proof is 
 plain — the clouds were ne'er so black 
 But the brig-htness of the sun, at last, might 
 
 put them back. 
 The wind did never blow so much, wherewith 
 
 the bark was tore, 
 But that the weather was so calm to bring the 
 
 ship to shore. 
 The danger now is past; address thyself with 
 
 speed 
 To meet with Wisdom, thy dear wife, as we 
 before decreed. 
 Wit. It shall be done as duty binds, and as 
 I bounden stand ; 
 But see, good father, now behold ! Dame 
 Wisdom is at hand. 
 
 Enter Good Nurture and Wisdom, and 
 
 Wisdom and Wit singeth this song. 
 Wisdom. My joy hath overgrown my 
 gnef. 
 My cure is past, 
 
 For Fortune hath been my relief 
 Now at Inst ! 
 Tantara tara tantara. 
 My husband is at hand ! 
 His comely grace appears in place. 
 As I do understand. 
 
 Wit. My lady, thrice welcome to me, 
 Mine only joy ! 
 The gentleness, God give it thee
 
 Wit and Wisdom, Act II., Sc. 6 297 
 
 Without annoy. 
 
 Tantara tara tantara, 
 
 Welcome, my worthy wife! 
 
 Thou art my part, tliine is my heart. 
 
 My blessed limb of life ! 
 
 Wisdom. As duty doth bind according 
 to kind, 
 I thank ye much ; 
 Thy wife forth will spend her life, 
 She will not grutch. 
 Tantara tara tantara, 
 The sum of all my bliss ; 
 The wclcomest wight, my chief delight, 
 That shall be and that is. 
 
 Wit. Let me thy comely corps embrace, 
 Dear Wisdom, now. 
 
 Wisdom. Good Wit, I always loved 
 the place 
 To be with you ; 
 Tantara tara tantara, 
 Thou hast my heart in hold. 
 
 Wit. Ne do I fain, but tell thee plain, 
 I am thy own, behold ! 
 
 Here endeth the song. 
 Good Nurture. Well, now I am right glad 
 
 to see you both well met. 
 Severity. And so am I, with all my heart, 
 
 that they so sure are set. 
 Both. We thank ye both right humbly. 
 Wit. And wish to marry speedily. 
 Wisdom. For why, although the turtle long 
 
 were parted from her mate. 
 Wit. Now God be thanked, they are met 
 in gof)d and happy state; 
 The Lord be thanked for his grace which gave 
 thee unto me :
 
 298 Wit and Wisdom, Act II., Sc, 6 
 
 Then welcome ! nothings in heaven or earth 
 
 more welcomer can be. 
 Wisdom. And you to me, dear Wit. 
 Severity. Come, now the time requires that 
 
 we depart away [ding--day I 
 
 To celebrate the nuptials with joy, this wed- 
 
 Wit. Go you before, my father dear, and 
 
 you, good master ! straight. 
 And then both I and Wisdom too upon you 
 
 will await. Go forth all. 
 
 Enter Epilogus. 
 Thus have you seen, good audience ! and heard 
 
 the course of youth ; [a truth. 
 
 And whoso list to try the same shall find it for 
 And if this simple show hath happened for to 
 
 halt, [default : 
 
 Your pardon and your patience we crave in our 
 For though the style be rough, and phrases 
 
 found unfit, [is hit ! 
 
 Yet may you say, upon the head the very nail 
 Wherefore, the moral mark ! for Finis let it 
 
 pass, [a glass, 
 
 And Wit may well and worthy then use it for 
 Whereby for to essue his foes, that always do 
 
 await him, 
 And never hang upon the hook, wherewith 
 
 they seek to bait him. 
 Thus if you follow fast, [you] will be quit 
 
 from thrall, 
 [And] eke in joy an[d] heavenly bliss — the 
 
 which God grant us all ! 
 
 Amen, quoth Fra ; Merbury. 
 Finis.
 
 A NOTE-BOOK AND 
 W O R D-L I S T 
 
 INCLUDING 
 
 Contemporary References, Bibliography, 
 Variorum Readings, Notes, &c., together 
 with a Glossary of Words and Phrases 
 now Archaic or Obsolete ; the whole 
 arranged in One Alphabet in Dictionary 
 Form
 
 A FORE-WORD TO NOTE- 
 BOOK AND WORD-LIST 
 
 Reference from text to Note-Book is copious, and as 
 complete as may be; so also, conversely, from Note-Book 
 to text. The folloiving pages may, with almost absolute 
 certainty, be consulted on any point that may occur in 
 the course of reading; but more especially as regards 
 
 Biographical and other Notes, 
 
 Contemporary References to Author and Plays, 
 
 Bibliography, 
 
 Variorum Readings, 
 
 Words and Phrases now Obsolete or Archaic. 
 The scheme of reference from Note-Book to text as- 
 sumes the division, in the mind's eye, of each page into 
 four horizontal sections; which, beginning at the top, 
 are indicated in the Note-Book by the letters a, b, c, d 
 following the page figure. In practice this will be found 
 easy, and an enormous help to the eye over the usual 
 reference to page alone in "fixing" the "catchword." 
 Thus i26a = the first quarter of page 126; 40C = the third 
 quarter of page 40 ; and so forth. 
 
 Abbreviations. 
 
 A. V. Appius and Virginia. 
 
 W.S. The Marriage of Wit and Science. 
 
 G. Grim ike Collier of Croydon. 
 
 C. C. Common Conditions. 
 
 W. IV. The Marriage of Wit and Wisdom. 
 
 [Note. — It has not been thought necessary to repeat, 
 save in exceptional cases, information which appears in 
 the Note-Books attached to other volumes of this series. 
 Especially may those of Heywood, Udall, Anon. Plays, 
 and Lost Tudor Plays be consulted.']
 
 -.►.--^^ 
 
 ^J^^^0 
 
 NOTE-BOOK AND WORD-LIST 
 
 Appius and Virginia — The Marriage of Wit and 
 
 Science — Grim the Collier of Croydon — Common 
 
 Conditions — The Marriage of Wit and Wisdom 
 
 A, " Sir, a ought I may pleasure you " (W.W. 2686), 
 if: Halliwell says, "perhaps in ought," but a=if 
 is common enough in old writers : see other volumes 
 of this series. 
 
 Amasis, King {2gi^c), an ancient autocratic King of 
 Egypt of the XXVI. Dynasty : one of his immediate 
 predecesors was the Uahlra or Hophra of Jeremiah 
 xliv. 30, who went to help Zedekiah. Hophra was 
 succeeded by Apries, whom Amasis strangled and 
 reigned (591-572) long and prosperously. Amasis (says 
 Dyce) made a law that every one should yearly give 
 account to the government how he lived, and in 
 default, to be put to death. 
 
 America, "the plains of new America" (G. ii8a), see 
 Grim the Collier. 
 
 Appius and Virgi.nia. The text of this play will be 
 found on pages 3-46. The present modfrnised version 
 has been thrice collated with the copy dated 1575, now 
 in the British Museum (C. 34, b. 2). The te.xt of the 
 original is obviously very corrupt, and previous re- 
 prints have added to the number of inaccuracies. 1 
 have, for example, correctr-d many slips passed by 
 Hazlitt, but I fear it will be possible to credit fresh 
 ones to my own score. Why and wherefore is a stor> 
 that may one day be told — if time and inclination 
 serve. All I need say here is that, as far as my own 
 work and that of my helper goes, I believe every
 
 302 Note-Book and Word-List [app. and virg. 
 
 endeavour has been made to ensure accuracy. We 
 have collated and collated, and collated again, only to 
 find " howlers " in the printed sheet ; errors, too, 
 which were not in the proofs as pa.ssed for press. I 
 fear the " dry rot " that characterises this transitional 
 period of the world's history affects all the potencies 
 and agencies of life to a greater or lesser degree, and 
 that we are (or must be) content with cheap mere- 
 tricious though " smart " work, work done without 
 any "heart" in the doing, employer frequently as well 
 as employed looking at the clock while doing. And 
 the mischief is, it is no consolation that other careful 
 and would-be scientific workers are in the same boat. 
 That is all, at present : those who can read between 
 the lines will find plenty of food for explanation in 
 what is subsequently written hereunder. Until "the 
 Irish find " of 1906, when another copy came into 
 the market, the only example — it was part of the 
 Garrick collection — known to be extant was that in 
 the British Museum, upon which the ravages of time 
 have long been manifest. Another copy turned up in 
 the Mostyn sale (June ist, 1907, Sothebys). It was 
 first reprinted by Collier in 1825-7, in a kind of Appen- 
 dix-volume of that edition of Dodsley : it appeared sub- 
 sequently in the Hazlitt Dodsley, in which the editor 
 complains that "the old copy was edited and printed 
 with the grossest carelessness, and that nearly all the 
 corruptions were allowed to remain. A few still stand 
 which baffle our ingenuity." Obviously much remains 
 to be done ; in view of the near approach of the issue 
 of a facsimile reprint of both copies, nothing beyond 
 the absolutely essential need now be said. It was 
 entered on the books of the Stationers' Company, 
 1567-8, by Rycherde Jonnes. Probably it was written 
 in 1563 : observe the reference to the sweat or plague 
 (lie). Halliwell states that as late as 1639 it was 
 considered of sufficient importance for its copyright to 
 be claimed against piracy by the company acting at 
 the Cock-pit in Drury Lane. Of the author, " R. B.," 
 nothing is known. The initials apply to several 
 writers. It is commonly attributed to Richard Bower, 
 of whom the D.N.B. has no mention. The story was 
 treated by Chaucer in "The Doctor of Physic's Tale," 
 and also by Webster in one of his dramas. Notes, Cor- 
 rigenda, Variorum Readings, <^c. — " To be deflowered "
 
 APP. AND viRG.] Note-Book and Word-List 303 
 
 (2a), Hazlitt has dishonoured — " Qui cupis . . . morte 
 mutat " (3a and b), Hazlitt remarks, " full of false 
 grammar, sense and quantities, of which some are 
 beyond conjecture " : I suggest the following as an 
 approximate approach to the author's meaning : — 
 
 Those who desirest to climb to the highest etherial abodes, 
 
 Cast from thyself, beloved, force and equally fraud ; 
 Here no pretence assists, nor will mighty deeds be availing. 
 
 One thing only may help thee, only the pure faith in God. 
 Vou whom it pleases to live in the world like the undefiled 
 Minerva, 
 
 Strive, O virgin, to follow [the example of] Virginia ; 
 And those whom grief afflictN, thou shalt taste exceeding joy 
 
 Whenever the fates approach to sever ihe threads of life. 
 Come hither to the sepulchre, O virgin equally mortal ! 
 Ihus she speaks, and her face changes with the pallor of Death I 
 
 "You that linked are" (A.V. 4a), the syllable is 
 accented, linkM : there are many such instances in 
 this play. ■! do not indicate them, as the proper 
 scansion is easily distinguished. " I wish her [Jor to] 
 read" (A.V. ^d), not in original — "observe the 
 life' i^b), like in original — "wont" (4^), should 
 be watit — " maids of courtesy " (A. ^b), this may 
 indicate either a representation before royalty 
 or be an allusion to the tenure known as the 
 "courtesy of England," applicable to inheritrices — 
 " till (Etas ... do him beguile " (56), should be 
 /Etas ; i.e., " till age takes him unawares " — " an- 
 nexed to my days " (5^), should be with — " so much 
 infected . . . should be detected " (6a), so in original : 
 Hazlitt reads infested . . . detested — " My sovereign 
 lord and friendly pheer " (6b), original has Thy 
 sufferent lord and friendly fcare — " Virginia. I\eftll 
 your mind " {6b), original has Virginius — " The 
 globe " (6c) original has glope — " like joyful sight to 
 me " (jd), so in original : Hazlitt thought, however, 
 they should go to Virginius — " Such gem and such 
 jewel " (8a), Hazlitt reads [a] gent, [a] jewel — " Vou 
 husband, you heart " {9.d), Hazlitt reads [sweet]heart 
 — " her only treasure " (8d), original has ber — " I 
 babe, and I bliss, your health one again " (8d), Hazlitt 
 again, quite unnecessarily, I think, for the peculiar 
 construction occurs again and again throughout the 
 play, inserts the pronoun "your" before "babe' 
 and " bliss " — " The trustiest treasure in earth " (qa), 
 in original earth is repeated — " do not fear," (gb), the
 
 304 Note-Book and Word-List [app. and virg. 
 
 comma should be a full point — " What time King 
 Nisus " (9c), Wlien in original — " Correcting hand to 
 virtue" (9c), in original nurtuc — ^^\^Excunt" (loc), in 
 original Exit, but all three go out — " hey-trick, ho- 
 troll " (lie), Hazlitt has how troll — " in a vengeance " 
 (lie), so in original: Hazlitt reads with — "Of 
 barberry incense" (iid), in original bayberry, which 
 of course is correct — " that man ^c- pudding Madge " 
 (12a), in original tnampodding : at first I agreed with 
 previous editors and adopted mam as a corruption of 
 O.E. mange=to eat; i.e., chew- or gobble-pudding 
 Madge. On reflection, however, it occurs to me that 
 mam is connected with " niammer " = to stand mut- 
 tering and in doubt, in which case " madge " is 
 probably not a proper name, but a contraction of 
 " madgc-howlet " — " sure they belied thee " (i6c), 
 he in original, which, of course, is correct, as also is 
 the " a-begging " in place of " begging " (i6d, last 
 line but one) — " maidens coy strange " (17a), Hazlitt 
 has "go/' but the original is "coy'': see Cov — 
 — " we hap may have larks " (ijb), so in original : 
 Hazlitt reads, "we may hap to have larks" — "once 
 ye did to Salmacis " (186), in original he — " Why, 
 cease, sir knight?" (igh), delete the comma between 
 " Why " and " cease " — " no more ways " (20a), 
 wages in original — " Then thus, and in this sort " 
 (A.V. 20b), this in original — " Come out [after him] " 
 (2od), of him in original — " my cured friend " (2 id), 
 this is nonsense: the original is sured ( = assured), 
 and so it was passed for press by me, as the proof- 
 sheets show, and is an unwarrantable interference 
 with an editor's prerogative — " [Exeunt," &c. (22b), 
 Exit, Go out here, in original : a reference to the 
 stage direction at foot of page 20 shows, however, 
 that Conscience is on the stage already — " a guerdon 
 to the poor " (22c), giverdon in original : Hazlitt has 
 "guardian" — "gain is no gain, sir" (23a), gransier in 
 original : I can make nothing quite satisfactory of it. 
 Undoubtedly the original was badly printed. I en- 
 deavoured, though fruitlessly, to get a sight of the 
 " Irish " copy before it went to America, and it is to 
 be hoped that someone will undertake the work of 
 collation. I shall be pleased to supply a facsimile of 
 the British Museum copy of the play for the purpose. 
 To supply another hazardous suggestion in support of
 
 APP. AND viRG.] Note-Book and Word-List 305 
 
 the reading of the present text gran may = grand 
 or great, taking an ordinary meaning, and sier (or 
 sire) .- sort, something distinguished ; so that the 
 passage may, after all, simply mean the equivalent of 
 the modern colloquialism, " no great shakes " — " As 
 if to her it were to me " {24a), Oh, as if to her. &c., 
 in original : Hazlitt reads, " O, if to her 'twere as 
 to me" — "Slumb'ry Kingdoms granted hath With 
 dews and beauteous " (24a), in original graunted . . . 
 With dewcs and bewteous " : the sense though not 
 the wording seems clear. Dew was used by Shak- 
 speare (Richard III., iv. i) in the sense of some- 
 thing falling lightly so as to refresh, " the golden 
 dew of sleep." Hazlitt's reading, " planted hath 
 With dews unbeauteous," seems quite beside the 
 mark, as also does his suggestion that beauteous 
 may = " beauty's use." Still, the text is un- 
 doubtedly either corrupt or elliptical : I incline to the 
 latter — " Virginia may embrace " {24b), inibace in 
 original—" [Claudius.] No let, no stay " (256), not in 
 original, but obviously this speech is to Claudius — 
 "^^iiold blind bayard!" {2bd ; 270, b, c), Hazlitt reads 
 " bold [as] blind bayard " : in one case he changes 
 (27^) the original ""venterous" into "venture" : the 
 original is, I think, preferable—" Then outsteps 
 Francis Fabulator " (28c), a mistake : the original 
 has " outsteps one Francis Fabulator " — " And man- 
 nerly made " (296), maudc in original : an old form — 
 " lie geason " (30a), a mistake : the original is be — 
 II All speaketh " (30a), original " All speak "— 
 " taken many a one " (30c), tokens in original : cor- 
 rect as a matt.-r of course — " My willing wits " (30^), 
 in original wights—" hast oft assaildd " (316), original 
 was : I am even yet not so sure that this, with 
 different "pointing," is not correct— " Cedrice's 
 land" (3ifc), so in original: Hazlitt reads Lady 
 Circe's — " I'asiphce's child the" (316), Lacefacc . . . 
 that in original—" to serve thy liege " (316), leach in 
 original— " t/jus standeth now the case" (A.V. 32b), 
 this in original—" O most uncertain rate " (33b), 
 Hazlitt reads fate--' bid Claudius lay " (33(i), did in 
 original: Hazlitt roads stay— " Thus is ' my duty 
 dnnr- " (A.V. 34;>), 77ir.s in original : also at " thus I 
 run " C34/)) ; is thus thy treason (34c) — " the graved 
 years " (34c), Hazlitt reads these . . . hairs, but 
 
 A. !■. IV. X
 
 3o6 Note-Book and Word-List [app. and virg. 
 
 nothing is gained by the change save nonsense : 
 firavcd = vexed or troubled — " me guilty in cause " 
 (35<i), should be, as in original, " nic as guilty " — 
 " o/ flesh he beguiled " (35(f), Hazlitt reads of [my] 
 flesh— The speech beginning Virginia (36c) is by 
 Hazlitt given to Virginius as far as " O father 
 mine " : I think Virginia is here apostrophising her- 
 self — " From guiltless sheath " {36c), in original 
 giltes : Hazlitt reads gilded—'' if case thy joy By 
 means of . . . be " (37a), in original, " thou joy My 
 vieanes . . . he " : re-reading this passage, obviously 
 corrupt, may not it be equivalent to, " How can 1, 
 thy father, kill thee? Rather than such a deed, 
 Death to my own arm ! But since, because of the 
 everlasting shame, if thou wouldst be glad because of 
 wicked Judge Appius, I will do the deed." — " Now 
 stretch thy hand, Virginius " (37c), there is no indica- 
 tion in the 1575 edition, but obviously these cannot 
 be Virginia's lines. Virginius apostrophises hirnself : 
 a similar instance occurs at 36c, where Virginia's 
 speech (as in original) commences at " Then, tender 
 arms," instead of two lines lower down, " O father 
 mine," as Hazlitt has it — " cruel hands or bloody 
 knife" (37c), so in original : Hazlitt reads, " O cruel 
 hands, O bloody knife "—" Come, aid!" (37CX 
 original has end — " And all his whole concent " 
 (38a), consent in original : concent should be read 
 to = those in accord or of one mind, following, 
 guidance — " that signifieth hangman " (39a), a 
 blunder : it should be, as in original, signifieth a hang- 
 man — " In end " (39^), so in original : Hazlitt has 
 And in ( ! )— " thine own limb " (40a), in original 
 lym : why altered in Hazlitt's Dodsley to loin is not 
 clear (see O.E.D.)-" The flashy fiends" (40b). 
 original has flaskv : flashy as a term of contempt was 
 used bv Bacon : flashy is, I believe, unknown save in 
 twcntieth-centurv slang : Hazlitt suggests dusky ( ! ) — 
 " hap and be 'ha.ply " (42b), happely in original : 
 Hazlitt prints happy—'' O noble justice " (43c), this 
 speech is obviously to Virginius. though unmarked in 
 original and passed over by Hazlitt — " take him by 
 the hand " (4T.d), so in original as part of the text — 
 "Here entereth Fame," &c. (A.V. 44^), in originaL 
 The stage direction is only " Here entereth Fame." 
 Then, two lines further on. " Doctrina and Memory
 
 CADOw] Note-Book and Word-List 307 
 
 and Virginius bring a tomb." Hazlitt says " the old 
 copy reads as if it was Virginius who brought in the 
 tomb ; but surely it is Doctrina and Memory who do 
 so " : but should not the speech likewise be assigned 
 to all three ladies? 
 
 Arrant, " on my lady's arrant go ' (C.C. 244a), errand : 
 an old and obsolete form. 
 
 Attend, " Attend thee, go play thee " (W.W. 269b), this 
 song occurs in "A HandefuU of Pleasant Delites," 
 printed in 1584. 
 
 Bands, "nor oath, nor bands'' (W.S. 76c), bonds :cf. 
 bounds. 
 
 Barlaking (C.C. 242d), i.e.. By our ladykin ! 
 
 Beard, "in for a heard" (W.W. 265!'), to make one's 
 beard=to dress up one's beard : hence to play a trick 
 upon, deceive, cheat. For Idleness to say that Wit was 
 " in for a beard " meant, apparently, that he was to 
 have a trick played upon him, as indeed seems to 
 have happened. 
 
 Blince, " will not blince " (A.V. ^qb), ? a form of 
 blench = to deceive, cheat: it is not catalogued by 
 Murray, and was probably adopted for the sake of the 
 rhyme with prince. Here, no doubt, the meaning is 
 " Perhaps ye may have that the which will not cheat 
 (i e., disappoint) you." 
 
 Bound, " craveth this bound" (A.V. 35a), boon. 
 
 Brain, " bear a brain'' (G. 167c), give attention, be on 
 the alert or watchful. " I must bear a brain for all." 
 — Marston, Dutch Courtezan. " Nay, 1 do bear a 
 brain." — Shakspeare, Rom. and Juliet (1608), 87. 
 
 Brown study (W.W. 265?)), an early example of this 
 still serviceable colloquialism. " Faith, this brown 
 study suits not with your black. Your habit and your 
 thoughts are of two colours." — Jonson, Case is Altered, 
 iv. I. 
 
 Cadow, " cackle like a cadow " (W.W. 273d), a jack- 
 daw : still dinlertiral. " Nodtilus is also for a cuddn-{v, 
 or dawe. " — Withal, Dictionaire (1608), 87. 
 
 X a
 
 3o8 Note- Book and Word- List [char 
 
 Char, " this char is charr'd well now "(VV'.D. 86rf), char 
 = business affair, task. There are several variants of 
 the phrase: cf. dialectical, "that job is jobb'd." 
 
 Church-book, " I am sure my name is in the church- 
 book " (VV.W. 2076), an allusion to the system of 
 parish registers, which were commenced in 1538. 
 
 Chould, " chould rejounce my heart to chance coots 
 with him " (W.S. Sbd), there is but little " dialect " 
 in this play, but such as occurs is the conventional 
 rustic speech of the old dramatists : see other volumes 
 of this series. 
 
 Coals, "Carry coals at a collier's hands" (G. 129a), to 
 submit to insult or degradation : see Nares. 
 
 Cock, " The cock is launched " (C.C. 222a), i.e.. cock- 
 boat, a small boat used in rivers or near the shore ; a 
 vawl. " Yon tall, anchoring bark Diminished to her 
 
 cock ; her cock a buoy Almost too small for sight." — 
 
 Shakspeare, Lear (1608), iv. 6. 
 
 Coil, " keep a coil " (W.W. 2726?), noise, tumult. 
 " Here's a coil with a lord and his sister." — Field, 
 Amends for Ladies (1618), p. 37. 
 
 Colling, (a) "kissing and colling" (G. io6d), embrac- 
 ing, specifically round the neck : see Nares. 
 
 (b) "^colling his face" (VV.W. 2tgb), blacking : whence 
 collier (270a, line i): Shakspeare also has " collied 
 night" (M.N.D., i. i). 
 
 Comb sta (G. 138U), i.e., How do you do? Ital. 
 
 CoMMiST, " commist to Dawe's cross " (W.W. 2750), 
 committed. 
 
 Common Conditions. The text of this play will be 
 found on pp. 183-256. Until Lord Mostyn's copy 
 came into the market at Sotheby's on June i, 1907, 
 the only example then known was the very imperfect 
 copy in the collection of the Duke of Devonshire at 
 Chatsworth, which lacks the title-page, which al.so 
 is considerably frayed and torn in places, and which 
 furthermore has a portion missing at the end. For 
 the present modernised version I have had to depend 
 on Prof. Brandl's te.xt in Ouellen, Sic. 1 tried unsuc- 
 cessfully to get a new and first-hand transcript of the 
 Devonshire copy. There ws : no difficulty about per-
 
 COMMON CONDITIONS] Notc-Book and Word-List 309 
 
 mission, but the absence of the librarian from Eng- 
 land, the presence of the family at Chatsworth, and 
 similar hindrances led me finally to delay no longer. 
 Then came the discovery of the Mostyn copy, but by 
 then my own text had been printed. As this article 
 was still unfinished, I welcomed the " find " and 
 immediately put myself into communication with Mr. 
 Quaritch, who had purchased it. He at once readily 
 promised I should have an opportunity of collation 
 when the volume came back from the binders. I 
 thereupon decided to retard the publication still further 
 of this already long-delayed volume of Annnymous 
 Plays, Series IV. When, however, six months later, 
 I once more approached Mr. Quaritch, I found that 
 all that could be allowed was a " booksellers' " and 
 not an " editorial " collation. The reasons given 
 were of the soundest and most undeniable. Had it 
 rested with Mr. Quaritch alone there would have been 
 no hitch, and I can only regret what is purely a piece 
 of " bad luck." Still, the desired collation with the 
 now only known complete copy may later on be 
 possible, as Mr. Quaritch has very kindly promised 
 to do all he can to induce the prospective purchaser 
 to consent to such a full collation as is clearly desir- 
 able. There it rests at present, but it would serve 
 no purpose to further delay the completion of our first 
 series of twelve volumes. One reflection forces itself 
 to mind. It is a thousand pities — nationally disas- 
 trous, / would say — that such a copy should not have 
 been secured for the nation, especially when it is 
 borne in mind that the British Museum docs not 
 possess a copy of this play in anv condition, perfect 
 or imperfect. I write without knowledge of the facts, 
 but one can only suppose that the niggardly wav 
 in which our legislators, of all shades of political 
 opinion, treat the trustees of the British Museum in 
 respect to money for the purchase of su'h items is 
 responsible for such a desirable addition to the 
 treasures of the Imperial — nay, cosmopolitan — store- 
 house being allowed to go to America. Yet in truth, 
 in the absence of sufTu iently public-spirited British 
 citizens putting it within the power of the authoritiej. 
 in flreat Russell .Street to secure " the absolutely 
 unique '* at all costs, one cannot blnme our Trans- 
 atlantic kinsmen for knowing a good thing as well
 
 3IO Note-Book and Word-List [common conditions 
 
 as their own mind ;incl interest, and then goinj^ 
 straight as a die and by a bee-line to achieve their 
 purpose. Would that some Passmore Edwards, 
 Andrew Carnegie, or Ceril Rhodes Wduld give a blank 
 cheque to Sir Kdward Maunde Thompson to enable 
 him at any time, without hitch or delay, to secure for 
 the nation such literary treasures as in the opinion 
 of the trustees arc unique — that is, such as are 
 necessary to complete or round off the literary heritage 
 of the national collection. I have frequently heard 
 rumours that a secret fund for such a purpose does 
 exist, but, if so, it can scarcely be adequate. What 
 is wanted is " a blank cheque," as the implication is 
 that the recent expense of securing three " lost " 
 plays and four hitherto " unknown editions " has 
 depleted the purchase-chest of the British Museum ; 
 otherwise one can scarcely credit that such a rarity 
 as Cotn-mon Conditions should not now be secured to 
 the public use of the world for ever. Let us get to 
 critical business ! As I have intimated, the present 
 text is based on that of Dr. Brandl, who had a 
 transcript made from the original which was supple- 
 mented by reference to the copy made by Malone 
 about loo years ago, and which usefully served to 
 restore some gaps in torn pages, the original manu- 
 script having further suffered in the course of time. 
 Common Conditions was entered on the Stationers' 
 Register on 26 July, 1576, and has apparently never 
 been reprinted until Dr. Brandl did so. I append the 
 transcript of the title-page of the Mostyn copy as 
 given in Sotheby's sale-catalogue for June i, 1907, 
 Lot 437 :— 
 Common Conditions. An Excellent and Pleasant 
 CoME-/niE, termed after the name of the 
 Vice, / Common Conditions, drawne out of the 
 most / famous historic of Caliarbus Duke of 
 Arabia, and of / the good and eevill successe of 
 him and his two / children, Sedmond his sun 
 (51c) and Clarisia his / daughter ; set foorth, 
 with delectable / mirth, and pleasant shewes. / 
 ft The Players Names / [20]. Six may Play this 
 Comedie. / bI:T-k Irttrr (28 //.) title within orna- 
 mental woodcut border ; some marginal notes 
 cut into, and a few head-lines shaved, otherwise 
 perfect, unbound sm. 4^0. imprinted . . by
 
 COMMON conditions] Notc-Book and Word-List 311 
 
 William How for John Huuter . . on London 
 Bridge . . at the Blacke Lion, n. d. (c. 1576) 
 For this example Mr. Quaritch paid £2^^. A 
 critical examination of the play is exhaustively 
 given by Ur. Brandl, and in view of the probability 
 of a better text being shortly available I shall now 
 mainly content myself by simply referring the student 
 to Quellen, &c., pp. cxi-cxx. Corrigenda, Sugges- 
 tions, 6-c. [B. = Brandl.] "We never [/]m " (183b), 
 original in : B. suggests bin or blin — " doth bear his 
 [bag on his back] (183d), B. suggests doth bear his 
 [sack] — "" [Thrift, Hold] my masters" (1856): pos- 
 sibly the attribution is to Drift : the supply of Hold 
 is mine — "[Shtft. Goo]d Unthrift " (185/'), Good re- 
 stored from Malone's copy : the punctuation in the 
 imp>erfect lines hence to the bottom of the page is 
 of course tentative — " [Thrift. Stay] your brawling " 
 (1856), Stay is my own suggestion — " . . . d I spare " 
 (185c), and in Malone — " ... us but try " (185^), 
 Malone's suggestion is [Thrift . . . let] us but try — 
 " traveller that is attacked " (i86d), original vs — 
 "what he was that owed" (iqHa), ? owned — 
 " \V'e[/]come " (20od), Wecotne in original : B. also 
 would read as here — " [Aside] If he knew " (201b), 
 my own insertion — " Causeth you thus ruthfully " 
 (20id), B. has this — " my linked spouse to be " (2046), 
 original reads thus : B. suggests his — " my sure name 
 is " (207d"l, so in B., but should it not be here 
 modernised to surname? — " this gear cottons" (217b), 
 in original greare codes — " And now [at] the sea- 
 coast " {2i~d), at not in original : supplied by B. in a 
 footnote with a reference to " At the sea-coast 
 already" (221b) — "Ah, God's!" (220c; 228a; 2310 
 bis; 2316; 23QC ; 241c bis; 241^; 248c; 249a; 249b; 
 250b ; 252b, &-C.). I take this to be elliptical and 'lO 
 stand for God's arms, wounds, anything in the way 
 of that form of oath — "To Thracia, quod you?" 
 (22 id), Tharcie in original — "straight and quick" 
 (225c), queck in original, a fantastic spelling, 
 obviously to rhyme with, and also to appear to th3 
 eye like seek : John lleywood was much given to the 
 same trick. The whole passage, and others, is like- 
 wise full of jargon, which 1 have thought well to give 
 exactly as in origin.'il — " [Lamphrdon], Ha, (iods" 
 (231b), Brandl makes this suggestion in a queried
 
 312 Note-Bock and Word-List [cottons 
 
 footnote — " a plagui; of all such villains " (235c), B. 
 sii^t;psls roadir.f; on — " IIiMj^h I dill-a-dinfj, dill-a- 
 ding " (242c), in orifjinal, " Heie, dcladyuj^, delay- 
 ding." 
 
 Cottons, " this gear cottons " (W.W. 276a), prospers, 
 goes on " swimmingly " ; also indicative of close 
 intimacy, agreement, or coincidence. 
 
 COUNTERKEIT-CRANK (W.W. 265a). " Thcsc that do 
 
 counterfet ihe iranko be yong knavfs and vonge harlots 
 that deeply dissemble the falling sickness." — Harman, 
 Caveat (1567). 
 
 (?OY, " Lest wives wear the codpiece, and maidens coy 
 strauge " (A.V. 17a), having in view the context — the 
 wearing of the breeches by wives — the meaning is 
 fairly clear : the puzzle is (1) whether coy is used 
 adjectively or verbally ; or whether strange is a verb 
 or a complementary adjective to coy. Hazlitt altered 
 coy to go, but 1 prefer to retain the original coy, and 
 to regard it as a verb in the sense of blandish, coax, 
 gain over by caresses (Chaucer, Lydgate, Shak- 
 speare, &:c.). There is no exact parallel to what would 
 otherwise appear to be the sense of strange if that 
 is taken as the verb = to wanton. Gower's "as his 
 jargpun strangeth " is not quite analogous, but it is an 
 intransitive use. 
 
 Crevis, " a crab or a crevis " (A.V. iib) crayfish : Fr. 
 icrevisse. 
 
 Cross, " never a cross to bless me " (W.W. 277a), 
 generic for money : formerly the reverse of a coin 
 was stamped with a cross. "... he had not a crosi 
 to pay them salary." — Howel, Vocal Forest. 
 
 Dain, " in dain " (C.C. 2o8d), disdain. " Dennes of 
 daine." — Queen Cordelia, p. 34. 
 
 Darby's bands (W.S. yyb). Father Derby (or Darby) is 
 supposed to have been a noted usurer, but nothing is 
 definitely known of him. " To binde such babes in 
 father Derbte's bands." — Gascoigne, Steel Glas (1576), 
 
 I. 787. 
 
 Defending, " defending the same " (A.V. 35?»), forbid- 
 ding, prohibiting. " Shal I than only be defended 
 to use my right? " — Chaucer, Boethius, p. 34. " God
 
 dronel] Note-Book and Word-List 313 
 
 defend his grace should say us nay ! " — Shakespeare, 
 Richard III. (1597), iii. 7. 
 
 Dene, " by any dene " (W.W. 280a), valley. 
 
 Dentivg, "denting death" (A.V. 45 J), from "dent," to 
 make a dent by striking a blow : Murray, quoting this 
 passage (the only instance he gives), states the mean- 
 ing of " denting death " to be " death that dents," 
 i.e., that strikes a blow. 
 
 Detected, see Infected. 
 
 Devil, " so is the devil " (G. 137^), proverbial : " The 
 devil is good when he is pleased." 
 
 Dish, "lay in my dish" (W.S. 846), lay to one's charge. 
 " The manifold examples that commonly are alledged, 
 to deterre men from finishing such works as have bene 
 left unperfect by notable artificers in all sciences, could 
 not make me afraide ; howbeit perchance they may 
 be laid in my dish." — Phaer., Virgtl (1600). 
 
 DovERCouRT, " the rood of Dovercourt " (G. iioc). In 
 the county of Essex, the mother-church of Harwich. 
 " In the same yeare of our Lord 1532 there was an 
 Idoll named The Roode of Dovercourt, whtTeunto was 
 much and great resort of people. For at that time 
 there was a great rumour blown abroad amongst the 
 ignorant sort, that the power of The Idoll of Dover- 
 court was so great that no man had power to shut the 
 church doore where he stood, and therefore they let 
 the church dore, both night and day, continually stand 
 open, for the more credit unto the blinde rumour." — 
 Fox, Martyrs, ii. 302. Fox adds that four men, deter- 
 mining to destroy it, travelled ten miles from I^enham, 
 where they resided, took away the Rood and burnt it, 
 for which act three of them afterwards suffered death. 
 
 Drake-nosed (A.V. 4id), turned-up nosed: drake — n. 
 curl turned up at the ends, but cf. " to shoot a drake " 
 = to fillip the nose. 
 
 Dronel (A.V. ^id), a generic reproach : a derivative of 
 dro«e = lazy idler, sluggard. Murray only gives two 
 instances of its use : one the passage now in ques- 
 tion ; the othcT from Stubbes' Anatomy of Abuse — 
 " Like unto dronels devouring the sweet honey of the 
 poor labouring bees."
 
 314 Note-Book and Word-List [drumble 
 
 Drumiu.r, "A dreamer, a drumble" (A.V. iia), a dull 
 lout, sluggard. 
 
 Drumsler, " [th]ough I were a drumslcr" (C.C. iS^d), 
 drunimer : also dni))ishi^cr. "The drum-player, or 
 druDislcr. " — Nomciichitur, 
 
 Fact, " this famous fact " (W'.S. gqb), feat, task : speci- 
 fically a thing done. "The bloody fact Will be 
 avenged." — Milton, Paradise Lost (1067), .\i. 457. 
 
 Fadge, " this gear begins to fadge " (VV.VV. 289c), suit, 
 agree. " That with no drink, could fudge, But where 
 the fat they knew." — Friar Bakon's Frophcsie (1604). 
 
 Feminitive, " I am somewhat feminitive " (C.C. 190a), 
 feminine, womanish. 
 
 File, "should my virgin's name be filcd^' (A.V. 7a), 
 smirched, defiled. 
 
 FoiN, "keep at the foin " (VV.S. 97a) — "a foin . . . 
 for a mad dog" (W.S. q8c), thrust, blow: as in 
 fencing. " Come, no matter vor your foynes." — 
 Shakspeare, Lear (1605), iv. 6. 
 
 Friscols, " these friscols " (W.S. 806) — " let me see what 
 friscols you can fet " (W.S. 926), capers, gambols. 
 
 Fry, " PhcEbus sore his wings did fry " (A.V. loa), ta 
 burn, to suffer from the action of heat, to melt with 
 heat. " Spices and gums about them melting fry, 
 And phoenix-like, in that rich nest they die." — Waller, 
 Of a War with Spain, 83. " My blandishments were 
 fewel to that fire Wherein he fry'd." — Drayton, 
 Legend of Pierce Gaveston. 
 
 Fulmers, " I can destroy fuhners " (W.W. 282^), 
 polecats. " 1 might here intreat largelie of other 
 vermine, as the polcat, the miniuer, the weasell, 
 stote, fiihnart, squirrill, fitchew, and such like." — 
 Harrison, Description of England, p. 225. The term 
 is still in use in the North of England. 
 
 Geason, "at no time ... be geason " (A.V. 30a), 
 scarce : see other volumes of this series. Lie in text 
 is a blunder for be : see Appius and Virginia. 
 
 Gentle, " gentle as a falcon " (W.W. 265^), a play on 
 Words: ^en//c' = trained hawk. Compare Shakspeare
 
 GRIM THE collier] Note-Book and Word-List 315 
 
 — " Hist ! Romeo, hist ! O, for a falconer's voice To 
 lure this tercel-^ent/e back again 1 " 
 
 Gis, " by Gis " (W.W. 2766), a veiled oath. " By Gis, 
 and by Saint Charity, Alack, and fie for shame ! 
 Young men will do't, if they come to't ; by cock, they 
 are to blame." — Shakspeare, Hamlet (1596), iv. 5. 
 
 Give, " my heart doth give me " (W.W. 293d), tell. 
 
 God a mercy, see Horse. 
 
 God's arms (€.0.2196), ames in original. 
 
 Golden Legend (G. 104^), the Legenda Aiirea, a trans- 
 lation from the French, printed by Caxton, 1483, fol. 
 
 Grim the Collier of Croydon. The text of this play 
 will be found on pages 101-180. There is great un- 
 certainty as to whether Grim the Collier is rightly 
 given so early a place in English dramatic literature. 
 On the authority of the sub-title. The Devil and His 
 Dame, and an entry in Henslowe's Diary, it is attri- 
 buted to William Haughton, also as having been 
 printed in 1600. All trace of the play as then issued 
 has been lost, and the earliest succeeding edition 
 (assuming the two plays to be identical) occurs in a 
 collection with the following title : — 
 
 Gratise Theatrales, or A choice Ternary of English plays, Com- 
 posed upon especial ■ ccasions by several ingenious persons;; 
 
 Grim the Cclhcr of Croydon, or The Devil and his Dame; with the 
 Devil ar d St. Dunstan : a Comedy, by I.T. Nevtr before pub- 
 li-hed : but now printed at the request of sundry ingenious Iriends. 
 R.D. 1662. i2mo. 
 
 The " I. T." of this entry was, I strongly suspect, 
 John Tatham (q.v.), who was largely concerned in 
 stagecraft, and in revising and preparing plays and 
 pageants. The play is doubtless very old, but the 
 seventeenth-century adapter adapted " without restric- 
 tions." His language and presentation of ideas is 
 very " Restorationic." Even a cursory study of the 
 play reveals a more modern model than that in vogue 
 amongst sixteenth-century playwrights. To repeat, its 
 t(jne, expressions, and construction are distincily that 
 of the Restoration dramatist. In other words, it is 
 probably a Restoration play founded on an older one 
 whi( h is only n-c ogriisable by traces here and there ; 
 e.g., "the plains of new America" (118a), and such- 
 like allusions, which, though quite correct in the lust
 
 3i6 Note-Book and Word-List, [grim the collier 
 
 quarter of the sixteenth century, were out of place 
 when Charles II. was king. As regards authorship, 
 Collier {Hist, of English Dramatic^Poetry, Vol. II., 
 p. 391), attributing "Damon and Pythias" to Ed- 
 wards, apparently regards FCdwards as the possible 
 author also of Grim the Collier, for he says, criticising 
 Damon and Pythias, ".'Ml kinds of dramatic propriety 
 are disregarded, and among other absurdities the 
 author has carried Grim, the Collier of Croydon, to 
 the Court of Dionysius, where he has sundry coarse 
 colloquies with a couple of lackeys, named Jack and 
 Will." Dr. Ward refers to Grim the Collier in a 
 footnote to page 2I13 of his first volume of " English 
 Dramatic Literature." He says: — "The extant play 
 of Grim the Collier of Croydon is stated to have 
 been printed under the name of The Devil and his 
 Dame in 1600, and is assigned by Fleay (English 
 Dramas, I., 273), to William Haughton. It was 
 probably written at an earlier date." Ward refers to 
 the same report at p. 606 of his second volume. He 
 goes on to say: — "This play re-introduced to the 
 English stage a personage of very ancient notoriety 
 on its boards. But the collier and his doings have 
 only a secondary share in the action of this extra- 
 ordinary drama, which (like one of Dekker's, and in 
 a less degree one of Jonson's comedies) turns on the 
 idea of an emissary being sent by the ' consistory ' of 
 the infernal regions to ascertain the true state of 
 things as to married life in the upper world." The 
 story of the play is taken from Machiavel's Bel- 
 phegor, " but in many parts the original has been 
 abandoned, and the catastrophe, if not entirely dif- 
 ferent, has been brought about by different means" 
 (Collier). \'ariorum Readings, Corrigenda, Notes, 
 <!~c. Copies are in B.M. and Bodley — Dramatis Per- 
 sonce : the names, descriptions, and style of list are 
 distinctly seventeenth century; note "The .Stage is 
 England," Prologue (103), this is missing in the B.M. 
 copy — "Edwin" (104c), Hazlitt has Edwy — "joined 
 woe unto my name" (io6a), the wheeze, still service- 
 able, of woe-to-man = woman — "but to reap an end- 
 less catalogue " (io6c), Hazlitt has leap—"' Belphegor " 
 {passim), the accent, contrary to authority is placed 
 throughout on second syllable — thus : Bel-phe-gor — 
 "his privy dealing with the nun" (nod), see St.
 
 GRIM THE collier] Note-Book and Word-List 317 
 
 Dunstan : anachronisms in this play are many — 
 "lovely London" (iiic), alliterative and a forecast 
 of (say) the second quarter of the twentieth cen- 
 tury, when, perchance, the preference will be 
 between residence within five hundred yards or 
 fifty miles of the British Museum, when half the 
 London of the " four mile radius " will be laid out in 
 open spaces — the beginning of "The City Beautiful" 
 — "no may shall bind me but herself" (iiid) = maid 
 (see O.H.D.) : way in original — "must tickle Mus- 
 grave" {112b), no entry and not mentioned before — 
 "when I wake" {120b), work in original — "A lard" 
 (12 la), lar'd in 1662 ed. — "(here's nobody else hears 
 me)" (i2ifc), Hazlitt has "[since] here's nobody else 
 hears me" — "I woole, sir" (122b), woofe or woose in 
 1662 — ''shall secretly be lodged" (125^), in 1662 shall 
 — ''or that you are" (126b), omitted by Hazlitt; 1662 
 reads, "that if you are" — "All's gone if she go" 
 (127b), Hazlitt has "All is"— "if I do, let my mill," 
 &c. (129a), And in original, and should have been so 
 given here. From 136 a, b, it would seem that the ori- 
 ginal was in rhyme — Shorthouse's speech on the exit 
 of Clack (129c) seems to be an "aside" : also "Well, 
 if my fortune " (i3od and 131a) — " My love ! whom have 
 we here?" (131b), in 1662 ed. this is a continuation 
 of Castiliano's speech; Honorea's begins with "Sweet 
 Musgrave ! " : compare p. 126, line 6 — Robin's speech, 
 "This kindness," &:c. (138a) should, I think, be an 
 "aside" — ".And make the blood" (140c), a mistake: 
 it should be, as in original, made — "Why call'st thou 
 out" (146a), can'st in 1662 ed. — " Castiliano conceals 
 himself" (146^), as this is not in 1662 ed. I should 
 have put it between brackets — " for long time 
 ago The devil call'd the Collier like to like" 
 (i5<;a), an echo, apparently, of Fulwell's play of 
 "Like to Like" — the "direction" in brackets, 
 " Ne accesseris ad concilia," &c. (155c), the full 
 sentence is " Ne accesseris ad (or in) concilio 
 anttijuam voccris." "Don't rnme into the council 
 (or court) before you are called": but "concilio" 
 should be " conctlium " — "what I'uirtlrs saith " 
 (G. 155c), Collier says, "till now printed Puzzles as if 
 because it had puzzled Dodsley and Reed to make out 
 the true word. In the old copy it stands Pucrilcs ; and 
 although it may seem a little out of character for
 
 3i8 Note-Book and Word-List [hauster 
 
 Grim to quote Latin, yet he does so in common with 
 the farmer in Peole's Edward I., and from the very 
 same great authority. ' 'Tis an old saying, I remem- 
 ber I read it in Cato's " Pueriles" that Caiitabit 
 vactiiis coram latrone viator,' &c." Hazlitt adds "the 
 work referred to in the text was called Pueriles Con- 
 fahulatiunculcc ; or, Children's Talke, of which no 
 early edition is at present known. But it is mentioned 
 in Pappe with an Hatchet" (1589), and in the inventory 
 of the stock of John Foster, the York bookseller 
 (1616). — "They fight," &c. (1570), Robin would appear 
 to be invisible during this scene to those on the stage : 
 also later in Act. v., Sc. i (i68d, &c.), becoming 
 visible when he " falleth to eat" (ifiqii) — your parish- 
 ioners" (169a), patitioners- in original: it should also 
 have remained unaltered here as the word is clearly 
 meant to be one of Grim's blunders — "born for a 
 scourge " (179b), song in 1662 ed. 
 
 Hauster, " crack in thy throat and hauster too " 
 (G. 155b), to cough : haust = a short, dry cough. 
 
 HoLYROOD DAY (G. i3ob), September 14th, a festival in 
 commemoration of the exaltation of the Saviour's 
 Cross : also Holycross day. 
 
 Horn, " wind the horn " (G. 103d), an allusion to 
 cuckoldry : see Slang and its Analogues, s.v. Horn. 
 
 Horse, " God a mercy, horse " (W.W. 2746), see Hey- 
 wood, Works, IL (E.E.D.S.), 391m. 
 
 Imbecility, see Simpriety. 
 
 Infected, " so much infected . . . should be detected " 
 (A.V. 6a), so in original, but Hazlitt changes to 
 infested . . . detested. 
 
 Intend, " which you intend " (W.S. 75^), assert, main- 
 tain, pretend. " For then is Tarquine brought vnto 
 his bed, Ititending wearinesse with heauie sprite." — 
 Shakspeare, Lucrece (1593), 121. 
 
 Jape, " an actor's wife . . . coming in's way did chance 
 to get a jape " (G. 103b), here used in the obscene 
 sense of carnal knowledge : also as verb. " He japed 
 mv wife and made me cuckold." — Hickscorner, Anon. 
 Plays, Sen I. (E.E.D.S.), 143c.
 
 MALBEcco] Note- Book and Word-List 319 
 
 Javel, "made a javel" (A.V. 416), fool, rascal: a 
 generic reproach. 
 
 John Tapster (W.W. 274^), generic for an inn-keeper. 
 
 Jug (G. passim), a pet name : specifically for Joan and 
 Joanna. 
 
 Lad, " I now am lad " (C.C. 293c), laden. 
 
 Lard, "a lard" (G. 121a), Lord! a form common in 
 fourteenth century, and again in the sixteenth to 
 eighteenth centuries. 
 
 Lease, (a) "at Benol's lease" (A.V. 28c), pasture, 
 meadow-land, common. " We been his peple and 
 scheepe of his leese.'" — Prymer (c. 1400), 17 (1891). 
 
 (h) " seem not to lease " (C.C. 250c), lie, tell un- 
 truths. " Let Honestie receiue such punishment As 
 he deserues that leazes to the King." — Knack to Know 
 Knave (1594), A 4 (E.E.D.S., Anon. Plays, Series VL). 
 
 Lewdness, " lack of lewdness " (A.V. 14a), ignorance ; 
 want of skill, knowledge, or good breeding, foolish- 
 ness : the meaning, however, is not quite clear. 
 
 Lis, " we never lin trudging " (C.C. 183&)— " she will 
 never lin " (W.W. 277a), cease, desist. " Which 
 thyng also I neuer lynne to beate into the eares." — 
 Cranmer, Preface to Bible (1530). 
 
 Lobbing, " what a lohhing makest thou " (W.W. 2qoh), 
 tumult, uproar : Doll is persistent in calling Lob by 
 name. 
 
 Long spoon (G. 170^), see other volumes of this series. 
 Also Hazlitt, Proverbs, p. 176; Tempest, ii. 2 ; Comedy 
 of Errors, iv. 3; Chaucer, Squire's Talc. v. 109 16, 
 &c. 
 
 Lordships, "my lands and lordships" (C.C. 253c and 
 d), the land belonging to a lord, a domain, estate, or 
 manor. 
 
 L0U.ME, " a goodly loume of beef" (A.V. 28c), loin. 
 
 Mai-becco (G. passim), see Spenser's Fairy Queen, IIL 
 cix., &c.
 
 320 Note-Book and Word-List [males 
 
 Mai.es, " fill our molts " (C.C. i8<jJ), male = bag, pack, 
 
 or wallet : Fr. mallf. 
 Mange-pudding, " that maugc-pudding Madge " 
 
 (A.V. 12a), i.e., eat-puddinj^ Madge : cf. Fr. manger. 
 
 and see O.E.D., s.v. Mange, subs, and verb. [But 
 
 see Appius and Virginius, s.v. 304a.] 
 
 Mankind, " she's mankind grown " (G. 15JC), fierce, 
 furious : see Roister Doister (E.E.D.S.), Note-Book, 
 s.v. Mankind. 
 
 Marriage of Wit and Science (The). The text is 
 given on pages 47-100. It forms one of a triad of 
 " Wit " plays, the other two being The Play of Wit 
 and Science, by John Rcdford (see E.E.D.S., Lost 
 Tudor Plays, pp. i35-i75)> and A Contract of Mar- 
 riage between Wit and Wisdom (included in the 
 present volume : see pp. 257-29.8). The unique ori- 
 ginal copy of this play, now in the Bodleian (Mai. 
 231), bears no name or date; but, as it was licensed 
 to Thomas Marsh in 1569-70, it probably appeared in 
 1570. The author, who is unknown, borrowed some- 
 what from Redford's play. I had hoped to have had 
 ready some interesting notes concerning these Wit 
 plays, but at present they are too scrappy and in- 
 complete to allow of any presentation worthy the 
 name. Those interested have now the trio in the 
 present series, whilst facsimiles are included in "The 
 Tudor Facsimile Texts," which I am now issuing. It 
 has been several times reprinted. Corrigenda, Notes, 
 <S~c. "What is that lady, son," (sia), original has 
 ladyes sonne — "in her flower" (51b), original flowers 
 — "bring thee higher" i$2d), original hiere — "with 
 travel and with time " (54c and repeated), a mistake 
 for travail, which is the correcter modern equivalent 
 of the original travell = work, labour — "my gain is 
 marr'd " (56c), original game, probably a printer's 
 error — "fall in lapse" ((uc), original lappes ( = error) — 
 "Doth kin to her" (W.S. 63c), in original kind — Act 
 III., Scacna 2 (67c), erroneously / in original — " Wit 
 Yet would not I " (69a), this in original is wrongly 
 attributed to Reason — "Take me this woman" (69J), 
 the context would suggest these women — "the well of 
 my welfare" (74c), wil in original, but see "well of 
 health " (last line of page)^" the seal of everlasting 
 joy" (75'J). original has steale — "fancy's force"
 
 WIT AND wisdom] Note-Book and Word-List 321 
 
 (76b), f amies in original — " To fend and keep him off " 
 (78b), in original send, but I think "fend" is meant — 
 "that breedeth your unrest" (78c), bredes in original 
 — "[? Idleness]" (W.S. 8ia), though unmarked in 
 original, it would seem that Idleness is present, or 
 standing aside, in this scene : see 816 (the song is 
 marked for two voices), 84a, 84^, 85a (" right worthy 
 damsels both ")— " Wit. What noise," &c. (826), in 
 original this is given to Will — "[A line (or lines) may, 
 &c.] (84^), there is, however, no sign of dropping out 
 in the original — "Chould rejouce my heart to 
 Chance " (86d), in original rejounce . . . harte . . . 
 chaunce : probably I ought to have retained rejounce — 
 "thy doublet and thy hose" (87b), Hazlitt alters to 
 his, but the meaning is quite clear. Idleness is speak- 
 ing to Ignorance after he has changed (or is chang- 
 ing) clothes with Wit — "Some one thing or other in 
 my 'tire " (886), original othes in my tryer — " They 
 are but fancies" (88fc), That in original— "God's fish- 
 hooks ! " (89a), in original fish hostes — " This makes 
 me muse" (90c), original These markes — "will'd me 
 best" (91a), original wil — "you furies all" (91a), 
 original your — "great lubbers" (95b), labores in ori- 
 inal — "lo, here" (99a), fo in original — "bliss of God" 
 99a), blest in original. 
 
 Marriage of Wit and Wisdom. The text of this play 
 will be found on pages 257-298. It exists irr MS. only 
 the history of which will be found in the Shakespeare 
 Society's version of the text, and concerning which 
 this indication must suffice. Since then the MS. has 
 become national property (Add. MS. 26,782). For 
 the rest the original has been facsimiled (with the 
 other Wit plays) in "The Tudor Facsimile Texts." 
 The probable date of the play is c. 1579. In the 
 anonymous play of Sir Thomas More, written prob- 
 ably about the year 1590, "My Lord Cardinal's 
 players" are introduced, exhibiting a play within the 
 play itself, a practice not uncommon formerly, and 
 sanctioned by Shakspeare. When asked what plays 
 were ready for representation, the player replies — 
 
 Diver*, my lord ; TAe Cradle of Security, 
 
 Hit nail o th' head. Impatient Poverty, 
 
 The Hlay of Four P's, Dives and Lazarus, 
 
 Lusty Juvtntus, and The Marriage of VVit and H^isdom. 
 
 A.I'. IV. Y
 
 322 Note-Book and Word-List [wit and wisdom 
 
 The last is selected — 
 
 The Marriage of Wit and Wisdom ! That, my lads ! 
 I'll none but that. Tlii^ theme is very goud, 
 And may maintain a liberal argument. 
 
 The trumpet sounds, and the prologue enters — 
 
 We therefore intend, good gentle audience, 
 A pretty short interlude to v''*y «" ''*'*' present, 
 Desiring your leave and quiet silence 
 To show the same, as it is meet and expedient. 
 Jt is called the Marriage 0/ Wit and Wisdom, 
 A matter right pitliy and pleasant to hear. 
 Whereof in brief we will show the whole sum; 
 But I must be gone, for Wit doth appear. 
 
 But the play acted, instead of being part of the inter- 
 lude now in question, is nothing more than an altera- 
 tion of Lusty Juventus, ingeniously adapted so as to 
 suit the other title. The MS. is a small quarto 
 volume, containing thirty-two leaves, measuring yj 
 by 6 inches, and is in very bad condition. Corrigenda, 
 Notes, &^c. "The Contract of a Marriage" (2580), 
 "Contract" (?) is nearly obliterated in MS. supplied 
 by Mr. Laking to HalliwcU, who was "doubtful" as 
 to its accuracy — "The Prologue" (259/;), HalliwcU in 
 his reprint for the Shakespeare .Society says that 
 "this prologue is written as prose in the original 
 MS." : this remark is absurd — "how the Irksomeness" 
 (259')), so in original : Halliwell suggested reading 
 that — "well fraught with levity" (259c), the reading 
 of the MS. is uncertain. As Halliwell saysj it looks 
 like fautirt with leuite. Mr. Collier, without seeing 
 the original, suggested fraught with lenity. Fraught 
 or favor'd may be the word most in dispute, but I 
 think levity is undoubtedly right — it is a figurative 
 use of the word = (in pre-scientific physics) a positive 
 tendency to rise, the reverse of gravity : see O.E.D., 
 s.v. Levity vi. 230, 2, ib for numerous examples — 
 "Wisdom [is the wight]" (259^), the manuscript is 
 defaced here : the restoration is Halliwell 's, who sup- 
 ports it by a reference to the same expression at 
 2616— "[T/'ie First Act]" {260b), as indicated by the 
 brackets, this is not in the original: the "Second 
 Act" is, however, regularly "scenified," so it is proper 
 to restore the unity in this place — "he shall take to 
 wife" (261a), ye in MS. — "thou married art" (261^), 
 thay in MS. : ? an error for thou — "Well now I must 
 about this gear" (263d), these words in the MS. are 
 crossed through — " I love so to l'[n]gcr " (264b), I
 
 WIT AND wisdom] Note-Book and Word-List 323 
 
 have followed Halliwell here : but surely it is a variant 
 of lig= to lie, or laze, as a reference to my own 
 Slang and its Analogues should have informed me 1 
 — " He should mock a marriage " (265a), that is make, 
 an old tense form — " I must be firm " (265a), Halliwell 
 would read fain — " Attend thee, go play thee " (2696), 
 the song is mentioned under the heading of "Light o' 
 Love." It is said, in a footnote, to have been a song in 
 "A HandefuU of Pleasant Delites," printed in 1584. 
 But nothing of the melody is given — "as good as a 
 lime-twig" (271^), Halliwell prints live-twig : I think 
 my own rendering is what the author meant, is what 
 the author (or scribe) intended to write, and is 
 certainly better sense. The word occurs close to the 
 edge of the page in the MS. There it reads " live," 
 as Halliwell has it. But the " i " is not dotted, and an 
 additional turn of the pen would have made it 
 " lime."—" Yea, so, so finally " (272b), in MS. Yea 
 comes at the end of the previous line : finally here and 
 in the next line is findly — " 6y St. Jane" (273c), there 
 are, according to the Bollandists, nearly thirty " St. 
 Jeannes," but I can find no trace of a "Jane." But 
 probably the reference was to one of the " St. 
 Jeannes" — "glad to see you merry, heartily" (274^), 
 this word stands clear in the MS., but it is erased 
 after, "I thank you" in the next line — " Ubi animus, 
 ibi oculus" (274^), in MS. ovulus : "where there is a 
 mind, there is an eye" — "And yet, God knows" (2776), 
 in MS. Gods erroneously : in original yet is it — "gentle 
 thieves " (278b), theaes in MS. — " is Due Disport " 
 (279a), Halliwell suggests perhaps it is — " too-too 
 good" (280a), goo in original — "I fear both" (2806), 
 doth in original — " Irksomeness [d]estroy " (281a), 
 estroy in MS. — "The Second Act. The First Scene" 
 (282c), in the MS. this is noted as " The iiii scene " : 
 and so on regularly with each succeeding scene until 
 the " X " or last. As the beginning of the second Act 
 is properly noted I thought it best to begin the 
 numeration of the scenes afresh — "by an harque- 
 busier" (284a), in original and — "A murrain ride thee" 
 (286a), in original rid — "Amongst the wise am hated 
 much" (286c), in original huted — "the silly mariner" 
 (287b), in original marncr — "amidst the waving sea" 
 (287b), in original waing — "this gear begins to fadge " 
 (289c), in original year. 
 
 Y 2
 
 324 Note-Book and Word-List [massy 
 
 Massy, "the massy gold" (W.S. 530), ? in the sense 
 
 of in the rough, as unrefined quartz, &c. 
 Moist, "moist from air to bow" (A.V.sa), dew, rain, 
 
 moisture. Bow = descend, fall. 
 Mouth, "the King's majesty's own mouth" (G. 156b), 
 
 entrance : cf. Bouge of Court. " Take in coals for 
 
 the King's mouth." — Edwards, Damon and Pithias 
 
 (E.E.D.S.). S3d. 
 
 New America, see Grim the Collier. 
 
 Or, " may or pleasure you or profit her " (G. laad), 
 either. 
 
 OsTEND, " ostend thy grace " (C.C. 240b), show, reveal, 
 manifest : Lat. ostendSre. 
 
 Outlandish, " outlandish man " (W.W. 272b), foreign, 
 not native. Dyce remarks that " foreign physicians 
 were much esteemed in England in Queen Elizabeth's 
 time." A character in The Return from Parnassus 
 (i6o6) says, "We'll gull the world that hath in esti- 
 mation forraine phisitians." 
 
 Painted cloth (G. 159c), see Nares. 
 
 Parbreak, " parbreak my mind and my whole stomach 
 too " (G. 172a), vomit, spew, pour forth recklessly. 
 " That semeth the beter than with sotil sillogismes 
 to parbrake thi witt." — Pol. Poems (1401), ii. 63 
 (Rolls). 
 
 Patteth, "my answer he patteth" (A.V. i2d), i.e., 
 brings out pat: nonce-word, from pat, ado = readily, 
 promptly, aptly (O.E.D.). 
 
 Plotform, " a sudden plotjorm " (G. 135^), plot, device, 
 contrivance. "There is the plat-form, and their 
 hands, my lord, Each severally subscribed to the 
 same." — Sir John Oldcastle (1600). 
 
 Plum-tree, " falling out of my mother's plum-tree " 
 (W.W. 266d), the female pudendum. Whence " Have 
 at the plum-tree," a proverbial phrase or the burden 
 of a song. See also 2 Henry VI., ii. i, and Cot- 
 grave, s.v. Hoche-prunier. 
 
 Podge, " eat my podge " (W.W. 289c), porridge, hodge- 
 podge. 
 
 Poor, " to my poor " (C.C. iSgd), power.
 
 ruddock] Note-Book and Word-List 325 
 
 PoRTASS, " armed with my portass " (G. 105b), a 
 breviary : in original tortass ; see other volumes of 
 this series. 
 
 Prank-parnel (A.V. 13c), parnel is commonly used in 
 the sense of a wanton; and prank = to adorn, to titti- 
 vate. See Piers Plowman's Vision, 2313; Pilkington, 
 Works, p. 56 ; and Halliwell, s.v. Prank. 
 
 Prevented, " prevented of their wished love " (G. 117b), 
 forestalled, anticipated, thwarted. " She hath pre- 
 vented me." — Shakspeare, Taming of Shrew (1593), 
 v. 2. 
 
 Prey, " achieve my most desired prey " (W.S. 50c) — 
 " the dearest prey " (W.S. 64b), anything taken more 
 or less by violence or strong desire ; booty, prize, 
 victim. 
 
 Purchase, " so devise that you shall purchase her " 
 (G. ii3<i), obtain, acquire. " Sicker I hold him for a 
 greater fou. That loves the thing he cannot purchase." 
 — Spenser, Shepheards Calender, April (1579). 
 
 PuTTOCK, " like a puttock " (W.W. 279b), a kite. " O 
 bless'd, that I might not ! I chose an eagle, And did 
 avoid a puttock." — Shakspeare, Cymbeline (1605), 
 i. 2. 
 
 Quite, "first I must quite this brain" (W.S. Sob), so 
 in original : ? = quiet. 
 
 Reap, " reap an endless catalogue " (G. io6b), so in 
 original, which Collier changes to heap, remarking 
 that reap "is hardly sense." Is it not? Shakspeare 
 uses the word in the sense of "to get"; and the 
 cognate senses of "gather," "collect," and 
 " acquire " material objects, though rare, are occa- 
 sionally met with. See O.E.D., s.v. Reap, 36, and 
 Twelfth Night, iii. i, 144. 
 
 Refell, " Refell your mind" (A.V. 66), i.e., clear the 
 mind. 
 
 Robin Goodfellow (G. passim), i.e., Akercock, as he 
 is also call»-d in other scenes. Sometimes called 
 Puck or Hobgoblin : see Naros. 
 
 Rosai-gar, " rosalgar or bane " (C.C. 209b), realgar, 
 disulphide of arsenic. 
 
 Ruddock, "run for a ruddock" (A.V. 266), riddock in
 
 326 Note-Book and Word-List [st. dunstan 
 
 original ; a slang term for a gold coin. " So he have 
 golden ruddocks in his bags." — Lyly, A/«dai, ii. i. 
 
 St. Dunstan (G. passim), son of Heorstan, a West Saxon 
 noble; born 924. He was sent as a child to the 
 abbey at Glastonbury for education. Subsequently he 
 was for some time at the Court of yEthelstan. He 
 seems to have been a delicate lad, of highly-strung 
 nerves and morbid constitution. He was much given 
 to dreams, and was a somnambulist. Expelled from 
 Court on the ground that he studied heathen arts, 
 he stayed for a time with his kinsman the Bishop 
 of Winchester. Returning to Glastonbury, he assumed 
 the life of an anchorite, living in a cell built by him- 
 self. He became very skilful as a worker in metals. 
 Edmund, who succeeded /Ethelstan, called Dunstan 
 to Court, and gave him a place among his chief lords 
 and councillors. Later, he was made Abbot of Glas- 
 tonbury by Edmund, in 945, when he was only twenty- 
 one years of age. Edred, who succeeded Edmund, 
 made him his treasurer. Under Edred's successor, 
 however, Dunstan 's position became insecure, a 
 powerful party being formed against him. In 956 he 
 was outlawed, and obliged to flee the country. In 
 the following year, on the commencement of a new 
 reign, he was recalled from exile, and shortly after 
 was elected Archbishop of Canterbury. He main- 
 tained his positiqn as a centre of peace and culture to 
 the day of his death, which occurred in 988, in his 
 sixty-fifth year. There are, however, a few anachron- 
 isms in the record as given in the play. Eor example, 
 the only Elfledo, or Ethelbleda (104b), in English 
 history, was the daughter of King Alfred, known 
 as the " Lady of the Mercians." She married, circa 
 880, Ethelred, Oildarmace of the Mercians, and is be- 
 lieved to have died in 918. Then, again (nod), the 
 story of Edwy and Elgiva hardly accords with known 
 facts. Elgiva was certainly not a nun. The expres- 
 sion is probably an echo of the old scandal laid upon 
 her for her opposition to Dunstan 's policy. There 
 seem to be doubts whether ^.thelgifu was the mother 
 or foster-mother of /Elfgifu (Elgiva). Dunstan's in- 
 terference between Eadwig (Edwy) and Elgiva was by 
 reason of the fact that the marriage was uncanonical, 
 being within the prohibited degrees. The story of
 
 stable-door] Note-Book and Word-List 327 
 
 Dunstan's forcible interference, on the occasion of 
 Edwy's coronation feast, forms an incident in Sir 
 Henry Taylor's drama, Edwy the Fair. 
 
 Shrew, " better to be a shrew than a sheep " (G. 137c), 
 proverbial. 
 
 Side-ridge, " Simkin's side-ridge " (A.V. 28b), a ridge, 
 in agriculture, is a strip of ground thrown up by the 
 plough or left between furrows ; a bed or long strip 
 of ground of greater or less width, formed by furrow 
 slices running the whole length of the field, and 
 divided from each other by open furrows or gutters 
 parallel to each other, which serve as drains for 
 carrying off the surface water. 
 
 SiMPRiETY . . . IMBECILITY (C.C. 1896 and d), Whitney 
 has no trace of such a word as "simpriety." As re- 
 gards "imbecility," Murray gives the following mean- 
 ings : — (i) weakness, feebleness, debility, impotence ; 
 
 (2) incompeten-^y or .incapacity (to do something) ; 
 
 (3) mental or intellectual weakness, especially as char- 
 acterising action ; hence, silliness, absurdity, folly. I 
 suggest that the words are used in the play as char- 
 acteristic of the ignorance of the speaker. 
 
 Sort, " so shall all things sort to our content " (G. 
 1236), fall out, happen. " If it sort not well, you 
 may conceal her." — Shakspeare, Much Ado About 
 Nothing (1600), iv. i. 
 
 Sparks, " peerless sparks " (A.V. 5^), usually of men, 
 but here used of Virginia and her mother. 
 
 Spial, " set our spial forth " (G. io8d), close watch ; 
 also scout, spy. " He went into France secretly, and 
 was there with Shirtly as a common launce knight, 
 and named hymsclfe Captaine Paul, lest the Empe- 
 rours spials should get out hys doynges. " — Ascham, 
 State of Germany, p. 31. 
 
 Squall, "let's me seem a squall" (W.S. 94^), a term 
 of reproach. 
 
 SQL-irH, " from place to place will squich " (W.S. 950), 
 ? skip, move quickly. 
 
 Stable-door, " shut the stable-door, <?>-c." (W.W. 293b), 
 an old and still useful colloquialism. "The steede was 
 stollen before I shut the gate, The catcs consumd
 
 328 Note-Book and Word-List [stout 
 
 before I smelt the feast." — Deuises of Sundrie Gentle- 
 men, p. 341. 
 
 Stout, " You must stout it " (W.S. 73d), to persist, 
 endure. 
 
 Study, " let us twain study and return " (W.S. 79a), 
 I am not quite sure of the interpretation here. 
 
 Stutter, "Stainer the stutter" (A.V. 29b), ? stutterer. 
 
 Suppose, " can comfort you for that suppose " (G. i3Sc), 
 opinion, belief, supposition. " We come short of our 
 suppose so far, That after sev'n years' siege, yet Troy 
 walls stand."' — Shakspeare, Troilus and Cressida 
 (1602), i. 3. 
 
 Sweat, "will die of the sweat ^^ (A.V. i id), this may 
 indicate the date of the play : in 1563 Camden says 
 there was " a raging plague in London." 
 
 Tang, " my basin must tang " (C.C. 184b), to sound as 
 a bell, tinkle. " For she had a tongue with a tang. 
 Would cry to a sailor, Go hang." — Shakspeare, Tem- 
 pest (1609), ii. 2. 
 
 Tatham (John), according to D.N.B., "dramatist and 
 city poet," flourished between 1632 and 1664, and seems 
 to have succeeded John Taylor, the water poet, and 
 Thos. Heywood in the office of laureate to the Lord 
 Mayor's Show. There is about a column of works 
 credited to him in the B.M. catalogue, which are also 
 mentioned in the D.N.B. 
 
 Thrall, " a thrall of mine " (A.V. 32c) — " and live thy 
 thrall" (C.C. 24od), slave, villein. "This Kyng . . . 
 Hede a thrall that dede amys." — Relig. Poems, Fif- 
 teenth Century. 
 
 Toting, " toting and looking thereon " (W.S. 66d), 
 peeping. 
 
 Tricksy, "a tricksy girl" (G. ie,^a), pretty, clever: 
 see Tempest, v. i, and Albion's Eng., vi. 31 (verify). 
 
 Will, " the will of my welfare " (W.S. 746), so in 
 original, but query well : see previous reference at 
 74a. 
 
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