THE
OR
The Woman Wears the Breeches.
A Comedy.
The Prologue.[1]
Quot quot adestis, salvete, salvetote.[2]
Gentlemen, you see I
come unarm’d among you, sine virga aut
ferula,[3]
without rod or ferular, which are the pedant’s weapons. Id est,
that is to say, I come not hither to be an instructor to any of you, that were aquilam volare docere, aut delphinum natare,[4] to teach
the ape, well learned as myself. Nor
came I to instruct the comedians. That
were for me to be asinus inter simias,[5] the fool
o’the company: I dare not undertake
them. I am no paedagogus[6] nor hypodidascalus[7]
here. I approach not hither ad erudiendum, nec ad corrigendum.[8] Nay, I have given my scholars leave to play,
to get a vacuum for myself today, to act a particle here in a play; an actor
being wanting that could bear it with port and state enough. A pedant is not easily imitated. Therefore, in person, I for your delight have
left my school to tread the stage. Pray
Jove the terror of my brow spoil not your mirth, for you cannot forget the fury
of a tutor, when you have lain under the blazing comet of his wrath, with quaeso Praeceptor te precor da…etcetera. But, let fear pass, nothing but mirth’s
intended.
But I had forgot
myself, a prologue should be in rhyme, therefore I will begin again.
Kind gentlemen, and
men of gentle kind,
There is in that a
figure, as you’ll find,
Because we’ll take
your ears as ’twere in ropes,
I’ll nothing speak
but figures, strains and tropes.[9]
Quot quot adestis, salvete salvetote.
The schoolmaster that
never yet besought ye,
Is now become a
suitor, that you’ll sit,
And exercise your
judgement with your wit,
On this our comedy,
which in bold phrase,
The author says has
passed with good applause
In former times. For it was written, when
It bore just
judgement, and the seal of Ben.[10]
Some in this round
may have both seen’t, and heard,
Ere I, that bear its
title, wore a beard.
My suit is therefore
that you will not look
To find more in the
title than the book.
My part the pedant,
though it seem a column
Is but a page
compar’d to the whole volume.
What bulk have I to
bear a scene to pass,
But by your favour’s
multiplying glass.[11]
In nova fert Animus,
then I’ll do my best
To gain your plaudit
among the rest.
So with the
salutation I first brought ye,
Quot quot adestis, salvete salvetote.
Dramatis Personae.
Crasy,[12] a young citizen, falling
into decay.
Jeremy, his apprentice.
Sarpego, a pedant.
Sneakup, Crasy’s father-in-law.
Pyannet, Sneakup’s wife.
Sir AndrewTicket, a courtier.
Rufflit,[13] a courtier.
Lady Ticket, Ticket’s wife.
Josina, Crasy’s wife.
Linsy-wolsey,[14] a thrifty citizen.
Toby, Sneakup’s son.
Bridget, Josina’s maid.
Crack, a boy that sings.
Isabell, a keeping woman.
Jone, a keeping woman.
Tryman, a country widow.
A Page.
ACT I.
Scene I.
A dinner carried over the stage in covered dishes.
Enter Crasy, Jeremy.
Crasy.
Set forth that table
Jeremy.
A
table set forth with empty money bags, bills, bonds and books of accounts
etcetera.
Jeremy.
Will you not go in
and dine, Sir?
Crasy.
No: I am of other
diet today.
Jeremy.
The whole company
expects you.
Crasy.
They may sit merry
with their cheer, while I feed on this hard meat. And wait you within: I shall not change a
trencher.[15]
Jeremy.
Alas my good Master.
Exit Jeremy.
Crasy.
Here are the nests,
but all the birds are flown.
He takes up the bags.
How easy a thing it
is to be undone,
When man will trust
his ’state to others!
Am I drawn dry? Not so much as the lees left?[16]
Nothing but empty cask? Have I no refuge
To fly to now? Yes, here, about a groats worth
He
takes up the bills and papers.
Of paper it was
once. Would I had now
Greene’s groats-worth
of wit for it.[17] But ‘twill serve
To light tobacco
pipes. Here, let me see:
Here is three hundred
pounds, two hundred here.
And here one hundred,
and two hundred here.
Fifty; fifty; fifty;
and one hundred here,
And here one hundred
and fifty. Besides
A many parcels of
small debts, which make
Two hundred
more. I shall not live to tell it,
But put it up, and
take it by the weight.
He
puts the bills and bonds into a bag.
O me! How heavy ‘tis! And, doubtless, so ‘twould be
At some mans
heart. It troubles me a little.
Enter Jeremy.
Now what news?
Crasy
takes up a scroll.
Jeremy.
My mistress, and your
mother Sir,
Entreats you to come
to dinner.
Crasy.
These are they; my
debts,
That strike me
through. This bag will never pay
Any of these.
Jeremy.
Sir, shall I say
you’ll come?
Crasy.
How well it were, if
any of my creditors
Could once but dream
that this were current money!
Jeremy.
What shall I say?
Crasy.
Even what thou wilt,
good Jeremy.
Jeremy.
Alas, you know this
dinner was appointed
A friendly meeting
for most of your creditors
And many of your
debtors.
Crasy.
But I hope
Few of the last
appear.
Jeremy.
None but some
privileg’d courtiers that dare
Put in at all mens
tables. They’re all set,
Your creditors on one
side and your debtors
On t’other; and do
only stay for you.
Crasy.
To feed on; do
they? Go. I will not come.
Jeremy.
I fear, Sir, you will
overthrow the good
That was intended
you. You know this meeting
Was for the creditors
to give longer day,
As they should find
your debtors to acknowledge
The sums they owe
you. Sir I should be sorry
To see you sink, or forc’d
to hide your head,
That look’d as high
as any in the City.
Crasy.
Prithee go in. And if they seem to stay,
Pray ‘em fall to;
tell ‘em I take this time
Only to order my
accounts, and that as soon
As they are full, and
fit to talk, I’ll come:
Good Jeremy go.
Jeremy.
In troth I pity him…
Exit
Jeremy. Weeping.
Crasy.
A right good boy thou
art. I think on thee:
What must I do
now? All I have is lost,
And what I have not,
sought to be forc’d from me,
I must take nimble
hold upon occasion,
Or lie forever in the
bankrupt ditch,
Where no man lends a
hand to draw one out.
I will leap over it,
or fall bravely in’t,
Scorning the Bridge
of Baseness, Composition,
Which doth infect a
city like the Plague,
And teach men
knavery, that were never born to’t:
Whereby the
rope-deserving rascal gains
Purple and furs,
trappings and golden chains.
Base Composition,
baser far than Want,
Than Beggary,
Imprisonment, Slavery:
I scorn thee, though
thou lov’st a tradesman dearly
And mak’st a chandler
Lord of thousands yearly.
I will have other
aid. How now! Again?
Enter
Jeremy.
Jeremy.
O, Sir, you are
undone.
Crasy.
Hast thou no news,
Jeremy?
Jeremy.
Alas your mother,
Sir…
Crasy.
Why, what of
her?
Is there a plate
lost, or a ’postle spoon[18]
A china dish broke,
or an ancient glass,
And stain’d with wine
her damask tablecloth?[19]
Or is the salt fall’n
towards her?[20] What’s the matter?
Jeremy.
Her mischievous
tongue has overthrown the good
Was meant to you.
Crasy.
What good, good
Jeremy?
Jeremy.
Your creditors were
on a resolution
To do you good, and
madly she oppos’d it,
And with a vehement
voice proclaims you a beggar:
Says you have undone
her daughter: that no good
Is fit to be done for
you: And such a storm
Of wicked breath…
Crasy.
She’s drunk. Is she not, Jeremy?
Jeremy.
No Sir, ‘tis nothing
but her old disease,
The Tongue-ague,
whose fit is now got up
To such a height the
Devil cannot lay it.
The learned
schoolmaster, Mr. Sarpego,
Has conjur’d it by
all his parts of speech,
His tropes and figures,
and cannot be heard
I’th furious
tempest. All your creditors
Are gone in rage;
will take their course, they say.
Some of your debtors
stay, I think, to laugh at her.
Enter
Sarpego.
Sarpego.
Now deafness seize
me. I disclaim my hearing. I defy my audituall part.[21] I renounce mine ears. Mistress Pyannet, a desperate palsy is on thy
lips, and an everlasting fever on thy tongue.
Crasy.
What raging rout[22] hath
rent thy rest;
What scold hath
scutch’d thy sconce?[23]
Sarpego.
I’ll breathe it to
thy bolder breast,
That asked me for the
nonce.[24]
You understand or
know, that there hath been a feast made, to take up a ponderous difference
between Mr. Sneakup your father in law, and yourself Mr. Crasy; and between
most of your creditors and debtors. Food
hath been eaten; wine drunk; talk passed; breath spent; labour lost: for
why? Mistress Pyannet your mother in
law, Mr. Sneakups wife, though she will be call’d by none but her own name,
that woman of an eternal tongue; that creature of an everlasting noise; whose
perpetual talk is able to deafen a miller; whose discourse is more tedious than
a justices charge; she that will out-scold ten carted bawds[25], even
when she is sober; and out-chat fifteen midwives, though fourteen of them be
half drunk: this she-thing hath burst all.
Demosthenes[26] himself
would give her over. Therefore hopeless
Sarpego is silent.
Enter Pyannet, Sneakup, Toby, Sir Andrew Ticket,
Rufflit, Lady Ticket, Josina and Linsy-Wolsey
Pyannet.
O, are you here,
Sir? You have spun a fair thread. Here’s much ado, and little help. We can make neither bolt nor shaft: find
neither head nor foot in your business.
My daughter and I may both curse the time that ever we saw the eyes of
thee.
Crasy. [to
Sneakup]
Sir, you have the
civil virtue of patience in you. Dear
Sir hear me.
Pyannet.
He says he hears
thee, and is asham’d to see thee. Hast
not undone our daughter? Spent her
portion; deceiv’d our hopes; wasted thy fortunes; undone thy credit; prov’d
bankrupt?
Crasy. [to
Sneakup]
All was but my kind
heart in trusting, in trusting, Father.
Pyannet.
Kind heart! What should citizens do with kind hearts; or
trusting in anything but God, and ready money?
Crasy. [to
Sneakup]
What would you, dear
Father, that I should do now?
Pyannet.
Marry, depart in
peace, Sir. Vanish in silence, Sir. I’ll take my daughter home, Sir. She shall not beg with you, Sir. [to
Josina] No marry shalt thou not; no, ’deed duck shalt thou not.
Crasy [to Sneakup]
Be yet pleased to
answer me, good Sir. May not an honest
man…
Pyannet.
Honest
man! Who the Devil wish’d thee to be an
honest man? Here’s my worshipful
husband, Mr. Sneakup, that from a grazier[27] is come
to be a Justice of Peace: And, what, as an honest man? He grew to be able to give nine hundred
pounds with my daughter; and, what, by honesty?
Mr. Sneakup and I are come up to live i’th’city, and here we have lain
these three years; and what? For
honesty? Honesty! What should the City do with honesty when
‘tis enough to undo a whole corporation?
Why are your wares gumm’d; your shops dark; your prices writ in strange
characters?[28] What, for honesty? Honesty?
Why is hard wax call’d Merchants Wax,[29] and is
said seldom or never to be ripp’d off, but it plucks the skin of a lordship
with it? What! For honesty?
Now, mortified my concupiscence![30] Dost thou think that our neighbour, Master
Linsy-Wolsey here, from the son of a tripe-wife and a rope-maker, could aspire
to be an Alderman’s Deputy; to be worshipful Mr. Linsy-Wolsey; Venerable Mr.
Linsy-Wolsey; to wear satin sleeves, and whip beggars? And, what?
By honesty? Have we bought an
office, here, for our towardly and gracious son and heir here, young Mr.
Sneakup…
Toby.
Yes forsooth Mother.
Pyannet.
And made him a
courtier, in hope of his honesty? Nay,
once for all, did we marry our daughter, here, to thee; rack’d our purses to
pay portion; left country house-keeping to save charges, in hope either of
thine or her honesty? No, we look’d,
that thy warehouse should have eaten up castles, and that for thy narrow walk
in a jewellers shop, a whole country should not have suffic’d thee.
Crasy. [to Sneakup]
If my uncunning
disposition be my only vice, then Father…
Pyannet.
Nay,
and thou hast been married three years to my daughter, and hast not got her
with child yet! How dost answer
that? For a woman to be married to a
fruitful fool, there is some bearing with him yet. I know it by myself. But a dry barren fool! How dost thou satisfy that?
Crasy.
It may be defect in
your daughter as probable as in me.
Pyannet.
O impudent
varlet! Defect in my daughter? O horrible indignity! Defect in my daughter? Nay, ‘tis well known, before ever thou sawest
her, there was no defect in my daughter.
Crasy.
Well, if to be honest
be to be a fool, my utmost ambition is a coxcomb. [to
Sneakup] Sir, I crave your farewell.
Pyannet.
Marry Sir, and have
it with all his heart. My husband is a
man of few words, and hath committed his tongue to me: and I hope I shall use
it to his worship. Fare you well, Sir.
Ticket.
Thanks for your cheer
and full bounty of entertainment, good Mr. Sneakup.
Pyannet.
He rather thanks you
for your patience, and kind visitation, good Sir Andrew Ticket. Yes indeed forsooth he does.
Lady Ticket.
I take my leave Sir,
too.
Sneakup.
Good Madam!
Pyannet.
Uds so!
There’s a trick! You must talk,
must you? And your wife in presence must
you? As if I could not have said good
Madam. Good Madam! Do you see how it becomes you?
Lady Ticket.
Good Mistress Sneakup.
Pyannet.
Good Madam, I beseech
your Ladyship to excuse our deficiency of entertainment. Though our power be not to our wish, yet we
wish that our power were to your worth, which merits better service…
Lady Ticket.
Pardon
me.
Pyannet.
Than our rudeness…
Lady Ticket.
You wrong
yourself.
Pyannet.
Can tender, or
possibly express by…
Lady Ticket.
I beseech you
forsooth…
Pyannet.
Our best labour, or
utmost devoir.[31] Yes I protest, sweet Madam. I beseech you, as you pass by in coach
sometimes, vouchsafe to see me; and, if I come to Court, I will presume to
visit your Ladyship and your worthy knight, good Sir Andrew! And, I pray you Madam, how does your monkey,
your parrot, and parakeets? I pray you
commend me to ’em, and to all your little ones.
Fare you well, sweet creature.
Rufflit.
We’ll leave you to
take private farewell of your wife, Mr. Crasy.
Toby.
We’ll meet you at
your horse, Brother.
Exit all, except Crasy and Josina.
Josina.
Lov’d, my dear heart,
my sweetest, my very being, will you needs take your journey? I shall fall before your return into a
consumption. If you die but conceive
what your departure will bring upon me, I know, my sweet, nay I do know…but go
your way; [aside] strike my finger into mine eyes: ‘tis not the first
true tear a married woman has shed.
Crasy.
Why, you hear the
noise of that woman of sound, your mother.
I must travel down, or not keep up.
Yet…
Josina.
Nay, go I beseech you; you shall never
say I undid you. Go I pray: But never
look to see me my own woman again. How
long will you stay forth?
Crasy.
A fortnight at the
least and a month at the most.
Josina.
Well, a fortnight at
the least. Never woman took a more heavy
departure. Kiss me. Farewell.
Kiss me again. I pray does your horse
amble or trot? Do not ride post as you
come home I pray. Kiss me once
more. Farewell.
Exit
Crasy.
Hey ho! How I do gape.
Enter
Bridget and Jeremy.
Josina.
What’s o’clock
Bridget?
Bridget.
Past three forsooth.
Josina.
‘Tis past sleeping
time then, Bridget.
Bridget.
Nothing is past to
those that have a mind and means.
Josina.
That’s true and
tried. Go lay my pillow Bridget.
Exit Bridget.
Lord, what a thing a
woman is in her husbands absence! Wast
thou ever in love, Jeremy?
Jeremy.
Who I forsooth? No forsooth.
Josina.
Aye forsooth, and no
forsooth? Then I perceive you are
forsooth. But I advise you to take heed
how you level your affection towards me: I am your mistress, and I hope you
never heard of any apprentice was so bold with his mistress.
Jeremy.
No indeed
forsooth. I should be sorry there should
be any such.
Josina.
Nay, be not sorry
neither Jeremy. Is thy master gone? Look.
[Exit Jeremy] A pretty
youth, this same Jeremy! And is come of
a good race. I have heard my Mother say
his father was a ferreter…[32]
Enter
Jeremy.
Jeremy.
He is gone forsooth.
Josina.
Come hither
Jeremy. Dost thou see this handkerchief?
Jeremy.
Yes forsooth.
Josina.
I vow’d this
handkerchief should never touch anybody’s face, but such a one as I would
entreat to lie with me.
Jeremy.
Indeed forsooth!
Josina.
Come hither
Jeremy. There’s a spot o’thy cheek, let
me wipe it off.
Jeremy.
O Lord forsooth. I’ll go wash it.
Exit
Jeremy.
Josina.
Heaven made this boy
of a very honest appetite, sober ignorance, and modest understanding. My old Grandmothers Latin is verified upon
him: Ars non habet inimicum praeter
ignorantem. Ignorance is womans
greatest enemy. Who’s within? Bridget.
Enter Bridget.
Bridget.
Here forsooth.
Josina.
Go your ways to
Mistress Parmisan,[33] the
cheesemongers wife in Old Fishstreet, and commend me to her; and entreat her to
pray Mistress Collifloore the herb-woman in the Old Change, that she will
desire Mistress Piccadell in Bow-lane in any hand to beseech the good old dry
nurse mother, etcetera, she knows where, to provide me an honest, handsome,
secret young man, that can write and read written hand. Take your errand with you: that can write and
read written hand.
Bridget.
I warrant you
forsooth.
Exit Bridget.
Josina.
So, now will I
meditate, take a nap, and dream out a few fancies.
Exit
Josina.
ACT I
Scene II.
Enter Crasy,
booted, with Ticket, Rufflit, Toby, Sarpego and Linsy-Wolsey
Ticket.
We take our leaves
Mr. Crasy, and wish good journey to you.
Rufflit.
Farewell good Mr.
Crasy.
Toby.
Adieu brother.
Sarpego.
Iterum iterumque vale.[34]
Linsy-Wolsey.
Heartily goodbye,
good Mr. Crasy.
Crasy.
Nay but gentlemen: a
little of your patience, you all know your own debts, and my almost impudent
necessities. Satisfy me, that I may
discharge others. Will you suffer me to
sink under my freeness? Shall my
goodness, and ready piety[35] undo
me? Sir Andrew Ticket, you are a
professed[36]
courtier, and should have a tender sense of honour. This is your day of payment for two hundred
pounds.
Ticket.
Blood of Bacchus,[37] ‘tis
true, ‘tis my day, what then? Dost take
me for a citizen, that thou thinkest I’ll keep my day? No, thou’st find that I am a courtier, let my
day keep me and ‘twill. But dost hear? Come to the Court. I will not say what I will do for thee. But come to the Court. I owe the two hundred pounds: I’ll not deny’t if thou ask seven years hence
for’t, farewell. I say no more, but come
to the Court, and see if I will know thee.
Crasy.
O, Sir, now you are
in favour you will know nobody.
Ticket.
True: ‘tis just. Why should we, when we are in favour know
anybody when, if we be in disgrace, nobody will know us? Farewell honest tradesman.
Exit
Ticket.
Sarpego.
That is synonima[38] for a
fool. An ironic epithet, upon my fecundity.[39]
Crasy.
O Master
Sarpego! I know you will satisfy your
own driblet of ten pounds I lent you out of my purse.
Sarpego.
Diogenes Laertius, on
a certain time, demanding of Cornelius Tacitus, an Areopagite[40] of
Syracusa, what was the most commodious and expeditest method to kill the itch,
answered…
Crasy.
Answer me my monies I beseech you.
Sarpego.
Peremptorily, Careo
Supinis; I want money. I confess,
some driblets are in the debit. But, me
thinks, that you being a man of wit, brain, forecast and forehead, should not
be so easily - I will not say foolish, for that were a figure – as to lend a
philosopher money, that cries, when he is naked, omnia mea mecum porto.[41] Well Sir, I shall ever live to wish that your
own Lanthorn may be your direction, and that wherever you travel the Cornu
copia of abundance may accompany you.[42] Yes sure shall I. Vive valeque.[43]
Exit
Sarpego.
Toby.
Why look you brother,
it was thought that I had a tender pericranion[44] or, in
direct phrase, that I was an unthrifty fool.
Signior no: you shall now find, that I cannot only keep mine own, but
other men’s. It is rightly said, he that
is poor in appetite may quickly be rich in purse. Desire little; covet little; no, not your
own: And you shall have enough.[45]
Crasy.
Enough?
Toby.
Yes brother, little
enough. I confess I am your debtor for
the loan of some hundred marks. Now you
have need: who has not? You have need to
have it. I have need to pay it. Here’s need of all hands. But brother, you shall be no loser by
me. Purchase wit; get wit, look you,
wit. And brother, if you come to the
court, now my mother and my father have bought me an office there, so you will
bring my sister with you, I will make the best show of you that I can. It may chance to set you up again, brother;
‘tis many an honest mans fortune, to rise by a good wife. Farewell sweet brother. Prithee grow rich again; and wear good
clothes, that we may keep our acquaintance still. Farewell, dear brother.
Exit
Toby.
Crasy.
Mr. Rufflit…
Rufflit.
What, does thy fist
gape for money from me?
Crasy.
I hope it is not the
fashion, for a gallant of fashion, to break for so small a portion as the sum
of an hundred angels.[46]
Rufflit.
For a gallant of
fashion to break, for a gallant of fashion?
Dost thou know what a gallant of fashion is? I’ll tell thee. It is a thing that but once in three months
has money in his purse: a creature made up of promise and protestation: a thing
that fouls other men’s napkins: touseth[47] other
men’s sheets, flatters all he fears, contemns[48] all he
needs not, serves all that serve him, and undoes all that trust him. Dost ask me money, as I am a gallant of
fashion, I do thee courtesy: I beat thee not.
Crasy.
I lent it you on your
single word.
Rufflit.
‘Tis pity but thou
shouldest lose thy freedom for it: you tradesmen have a good order in your
city, not to lend a gentleman money without a citizen bound with him: but you
forsooth scorn orders! By this light,
‘tis pity thou losest not thy freedom for it.
Well, when I am flush, thou shalt feel from me. Farewell.
Prithee learn to have some wit. A
handsome straight young fellow, grown into a pretty bear, with a proper bodied
woman to his wife, and cannot bear a brain!
Farewell. Dost hear? Be rul’d by me, get money, do, get money and
keep it; wouldst thrive? Be rather a
knave than a fool. How much dost say I
owe thee?
Crasy.
Fifty pounds.
Rufflit.
Thou art in my
debt. I have given the counsel worth
threescore, dog-cheap, well I’ll rent the odd money.
Exit
Rufflit.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Strange mad fellows
these same, Mr. Crasy, methinks to deal withal.
Crasy.
You are right, Mr.
Linsy-Wolsey. I would my genius had
directed me to deal always with such honest neighbourly men as yourself. I hope you will not deny me a courtesy.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Not I, I protest,
what is it?
Crasy.
You took once a jewel
of me, which you sold for thirty pounds, for which I have your bond for sixty,
at your day of marriage. If you will
now, because I want present money, give me but twenty pounds, I’ll acquit you.
Linsy-Wolsey.
My good friend Mr.
Crasy, I have no tricks and jerks to come over you as the witty gentlemen had
ere while: but I know a plain bargain is a plain bargain, and wit is never good
till it be bought. If twenty pounds will
pleasure you, upon good security I will procure it you. A hundred if you please, do you mark, Mr.
Crasy? On good security. Otherwise you must pardon me, Mr. Crasy. I am a poor tradesman, Mr. Crasy; keep both a
linen and a woollen drapers shop, Mr. Crasy, according to my name, Mr. Crasy,
and would be loth[49] to lend
my money, Mr. Crasy, to be laughed at among my neighbours, Mr. Crasy, as you
are, Mr. Crasy. And so fare you well,
Mr. Crasy.
Exit
Linsy-Wolsey.
Crasy.
Is this the end of
unsuspicious freeness?
Are open hands of
cheerful piety,
A helpful bounty, and
most easy goodness,
Rewarded thus?
Is to be honest,
term’d to be a fool?
Respect it
Heaven. Bear up still merry heart.
Droop not: but scorn
the worlds unjust despising.
Who through goodness
sinks, his fall’s his rising.
Enter
Jeremy.
Jeremy.
O Master, Master,
upon my knowledge, my Mistress is forced since your departure to be…
Crasy.
What Jeremy?
Jeremy.
Honest Sir, get up your
debts as fast as you can abroad: for on my understanding – which great Jove
knows is but little – she will take up more than your due at home easily.[50]
Crasy.
Boy. Didst never observe at the Court gate that
the Lord was no sooner off from his horseback but the lackey got up into the
saddle and rode home?
Jeremy.
Yes Sir, ‘tis common.
Crasy.
I scorn not my
better’s fortune. And what is not my sin
shall never be my shame.
Jeremy.
In troth I was fain
to make myself an ass, or else I had been tempted to have been a knave.
Crasy.
Boy, thou art now my
prentice. From hence be free. Poverty shall serve it self. Yet do one thing for me.
Jeremy.
If it be in the power
of my poor sconce.
Crasy.
If ever it be in thy
possible ability, wrong all men, use thy wit to abuse all things that have but
sense of wrong: for, without mercy, all men have injur’d thy mistrusting
Master, milk’d my thoughts from my heart, and money from my purse, and, last,
laughed at my credulity. Cheat, cozen,
live by thy wits: ‘tis most manly, therefore most noble. Horses get their living by their backs, oxen
by their necks, swine and women by their flesh, only man by his brain. In brief be a knave and prosper: for honesty
has beggared me.
Jeremy.
Farewell Master. And if I put tricks upon some of them, let
the end of the comedy demonstrate.
Exit
Jeremy.
Crasy.
I am resolv’d I will
revenge. I never provok’d my brain
yet. But now if I clap not fire in the
tails of some of these Samson’s foxes[51]…seems
my defect of fortune want of wit? No.
The sense of our
slight sports confess’d shall have,
That any may be rich
will be a knave.
Exit
Crasy.
ACT II
Scene I
Enter
Sarpego and Toby.
Sarpego.
Egregious[52] and
most great of expectation, my right dignified and truly Ciceronian[53] pupil,
now that I have brought you into the amoene[54] fields
with my ready thankfulness for the loan of this ten pounds, I commit you to the
grace of court.
Toby.
I shall expect that
money shortly. Care to send it; for I
purchas’d my place at a rack’d recompense.
Sarpego.
Your Sarpego is no
slippery companion. You know I am to
marry, and this money shall provide me complements. Sis bonus o faelixque tuis. I pede fausto.[55]
Exit
Toby and Enter Crasy, disguised as a lame soldier.
Crasy.
Belov’d of Phoebus,
Minion of the Muses, dear Water Bailiff[56] of
Helicon, [57]
let it not be distasteful to thy divine ears, to receive the humble petition of
a poor creature, made miserable by the policy of Providence. That thy rare and absolute munificence[58] might
supply what fortune had left defective: I kiss thy learnèd toes.
Sarpego.
I tell thee, by the
axioms of the Peripatetical[59]
Aristotle, thou art a monster. My reward
shall be therefore like thy self: monstrously lame. This is a figure in elocution call’d Apoxigesis.
Crasy.
I am not fed with
figures Sir.
Sarpego.
You are an idle
vagabond, and lie in wait for the blood of the learnèd. Labour and live.
Crasy.
Right eloquent and
well-phrased Sir, my education has been liberal. I sometimes fed my flock on horned Parnassus,[60] but my
wants forc’d me to my sword.
Crasy
shows his blade half way.
Sarpego.
You did peradventure
sip on the top of Science, primoribus labris,[61]
or so, but did not convert it in succum and saguinem.[62]
Crasy.
That I may ever
remain a true man… Extend. [He draws his sword] The sun, moon and the seven planets are my
invoked witnesses. I should be grieved that necessity should make me grow
violent on so adored, adorned, grammatical, disciplinary…be gracious in
contribution…Sir…
Sarpego.
I will give thee an
infinite treasure. Sis integer vitae,
scelerisque purus.[63] Vale poor rogue.[64]
Crasy.
Sir, this sword can
bite… But, I know you had rather give it
freely out of your own proclivity.[65]
Sarpego.
Yes I protest, as I
am erudite.[66] Here dreadful Mavortian,[67] the
poor price of a dinner.
Sarpego
hands Crasy the money.
Crasy.
If I might in modesty
importune the poor price of a supper too.
Sarpego.
I do speak it in the
optative[68]
mood, I do wish it lay in the model of my fortune to give harbour to your
shaken state, yet receive this with appeased clutch.
Sarpego
hands over more money to Crasy.
Crasy.
If I might not seem
audacious even to impudence I, poor freshman in literature, would implore of
your well-salted, and best season’d virtue, some larger allowance to supply my
defects of raiment, books, and other necessaries which magnificence shall ever
entitle you, my most bounteous Mecaenas.[69] Be induc’d to it, Sir.
Crasy
flourishes his sword over Sarpego.
Sarpego.
Yes, yes, yes, that
you may know how dear you are to me; know this is more than usual largesse…for non
omnibus dormio[70]…there’s
a figure too.
Crasy.
O yes Sir, I
understand this figure too, very well.
Now, dear Mecaenas, let me implore a purse to enclose these monies
in… nay if you impart not with a
cheerful forehead, Sir.
Flourishes
sword again.
Sarpego.
Vae misero mihi![71] Sweet purse
adieu. Iterum itermque vale.[72]
Crasy.
May you be importun’d
to do it, Sir.
Flourishes
sword again.
Sarpego.
You shall have it
instantly. I will only deprome,[73] or take
out a little stuffing first.
Crasy.
‘Tis no matter. As it is, as it is, good Sir, as it is. I’ll accept it as it is. Most fragrant-phrased Master, suffer thy self
to be entreated. Do…
Flourishes
sword again.
Sarpego.
You have most
powerfully persuaded: take it.
Crasy.
Most exorbitantly
bounteous Mecaenas, you have given me all this have you not?
Sarpego.
Yes, yes, and you
have taken all that, have you not?
Crasy.
Yes, yes, but as your
gift. Jove bless thy brows, and make
clear thy physiognomy.[74] Vale.[75] Your learned worship stinks.
Sarpego. [Crasy falls back]
Now barbarism,
incongruity, and false orthography shame thee; the curse of Priscian[76] take
thee. All the parts of speech defy thee. All the interjections of sorrow, as heu
hei;[77]
of shunning, as apage;[78] of
disdaining, as hem vah;[79] of
scorning, as hui;[80] of
exclaiming, as proh deum atque hominum fidem[81]
take thee. My dear pupil’s lendings hast
thou lewdly lick’d away: and sorrowful Sarpego is lick’d dry. There’s a figure left yet! But o thou Castalian[82]
traitor, pick-purse of Parnassus, and hang-man of Helicon: Dives thirst in thy
throat;[83] Ixion’s[84] wheel
on thy back; Tantalus’s hunger in thy guts;[85] and
Sisyphus’s stone in thy bladder.[86]
Exit
Sarpego.
Crasy.
O fearful curse! Well: I have given my first pinch, and a
little scratch’d my goat-bearded grammarian that broke jests on my uncunning
easiness. But he with the rest shall
feel that modest simplicity is not always a defect of wit but will. What my willing honesty hath seem’d to lose,
my affected deceits shall recover. I’ll
rid ’em one after another, like guts, till they shall stink worse than Jews.
And they shall find
with most ashamèd eyes,
The honest breast
lives only rich and wise.
Exit
Crasy.
Act II
Scene II
Enter
Josina and Bridget.
Josina.
Bridget,
.
Bridget.
Here forsooth.
Josina.
Bridget, I say.
Bridget.
Here, Lady.
Josina.
That’s comfortably
spoken! Nay blush not: we women can
never have too much given us. And Madam
Josina would sound well.
Bridget.
Yes indeed, Madam
Josina Crasy.
Josina.
No; not Crasy; hang
Crasy: Crasy is my husband’s name. I
wonder why women must be called by their husband’s names, aye.
Bridget.
O, they must
forsooth.
Josina.
And why not men by
their wives?
Bridget.
Marry forsooth,
because that men, when they marry, become but half men and the other half goes
to their wives. And therefore she is
call’d woman, where before she was call’d but maid.
Josina.
Is a married man but
half a man? What is his other half then?
Bridget.
Truly, oftentimes,
beast. Which part the wife gives to
boot, in exchange of her name.
There
is a knock.
Josina.
Hark, somebody
knocks; go see. [Exit Bridget] What should anybody knock at my garden door
for? I do not use to be visited in my
garden.
Enter
Bridget.
Bridget.
Yonder a gentleman
craves admittance to converse with you.
Josina.
I’ll converse with no
gentleman. What have I to do with
gentlemen?
Bridget.
A fair-spoken, comely,
modest gentleman he is.
Josina.
Is he so? I’ll speak with no modest gentleman. You were
best be his bawd. But are you sure he is
a true gentleman? Does he wear clean linen,
and lack money?
Bridget.
Here he comes
forsooth.
Enter
Crasy, disguised like a physician.
Josina.
He is very confident,
and forward, methinks.
Crasy.
Exquisite; very
elixir of beauty, vouchsafe to receive the tender of my faith to you; which I
protest is zealously devoted to your particular service.
Josina.
You may speak louder
Sir: for I assure you, my maid is very thick of hearing, and exceeding weak
sighted.
Crasy.
Then, Lady, let it be
spoken in bold phrase; I love you.
Josina.
I thank you Sir. How should I style you, pray?
Crasy.
My name is
Pulse-feel: a poor doctor of physic, that wears three-pile velvet in his cap;
has paid a quarters rent of his house afore-hand; and, as meanly as he stands
here, was made doctor beyond the seas. I
vow – as I am right worshipful – the taking of my degree cost me twelve French
crowns, and five and thirty pounds of salt butter in upper Germany. I can make your beauty, and preserve it;
rectify your body, and maintain it; perfume your skin; tinct[87] your
hair; enliven your eye; heighten your appetite.
As for gellies, dentifrices, diets, mineral fucusses, pomatums, fumes,
Italian masks to sleep in, either to moisten, or dry the superficies of your
face; pah! Galen[88]
was a goose, and Paracelsus[89] a patch
to Doctor Pulse-feel. Make me then
happy, dear sweeting, in your private favours - the which I vow with as much
secrecy, constancy and resolution, to preserve, as you, with bounty, sweetness
and freeness shall impart.
Josina.
I protest you speak
very far within me; I respect you most affectionately.
Crasy.
Then I’ll attend you
at your chamber, where the best pleasure youth Cupid can minister shall
entertain you.
Josina.
Entertain me with
pleasure? What pleasure I pray you?
Crasy.
Nothing but kiss you
Lady, and so forth.
Josina.
Well, for kissing and
so forth, I care not; but look for no dishonesty at my hands, I charge you.
Crasy.
I will be provident.
Josina.
And honest, I beseech
you: and secret, and resolute, I advise you.
Crasy.
Good.
Josina.
And very chaste I
command you. But a kiss, and so forth.
Crasy.
I understand you. This be my pledge of faith.
Crasy
kisses Josina.
Josina.
And this of mine…The
thought of me rest with you. And hear
you Doctor; I prithee procure me some young fellow that can write: for I am so
troubled with letters that I neither read nor answer…
Crasy.
Rely upon me. I can fit you rarely. I know a well-qualified fellow that danceth
rarely, players on divers instruments, and withal is close.
Josina.
Aye marry,
close! Pray let me have him. Kiss and adieu.
Exit
Josina.
Crasy.
I will maintain
it. He only that knows it, permits, and
procures it, is truly a cuckold. Some
fellow would be divorc’d now. Crasy,
speak: wilt be divorc’d? [turns on
himself in dispute with himself] Why, what and I were? [turns on himself again] Why then thou
art an ass, Crasy. [Replies to
himself] Why Sir? Why Sir! [replies again] Why prithee tell me,
what would thy divorce hurt her? [replies again] It would but give her
more liberty. She should have bounteous
customers; gallants that would hoist her tires, bestow deep on her. And she should be paid for’t. [replies to himself] You speak
somewhat to the matter Sir. [replies
to himself] Nay Crasy, believe it, though she be not a very modest woman
for a wife, thou mayst force her to be a reasonable private wench for a
whore. [talks to himself] Say you
so? Birlady,[90] and
I’ll take your counsel. ‘Tis a pretty
drab[91]. I know not where to compass such
another? Troth Sir, I’ll follow your
advice.
And, if my hopes
prove not extremely ill,
I’ll keep her flesh chaste,
though against her will.[92]
Enter
Crack singing.
Crack.
He took her by the
middle so small
And
laid her on the plain:
And when he had his
will on her,
He took her up again.
And what was she then
the worse for wearing?
Can you tell Mr.
Doctor?
Crasy.
What art thou?
Crack.
One Sir, I dare tell
you in private, that can conduct you to a more lovely creature than her you
last courted.
Crasy.
A young pimp, a very
sucking-pig pimp! What an age is this
when children play at such great game!
So young, so forward!
Crack sings.
The young and the old
mun to’t, mun to’t,
The young and the old mun to it;
The young ones will
learn to do’t, to do’t,
And the old forget not to do it.
Crasy.
This infant piece of
impudence amazes me. Prithee what art
thou? Or whom dost thou serve, or broke
for?
Crack.
As delicate a piece
of woman-flesh as ever mortal laid lip to.
O she is all Venus! And, to come
close to you, she wants a physician. You
are one I take it: I am a fool else.
Crasy [aside]
I am catch’d? This habit will betray me. What is she, I say?
Crack sings.
O she is, she is a
matchless piece,
Though all the world may woo her;
Nor gold shower, nor golden fleece,
Is price enough to do
her.
Crasy.
For what wants she a
physician?
Crack.
For what you please
when you come to her. Sir, upon my life,
she’s free from any disease, but the Counterfeits. Will you know all, Sir? She wants a wise man’s counsel to assist her
in getting a husband. I take hold of you
for that wise man, she relies upon my election.
Will you go, Sir? ‘Tis in an exceeding house; a precise one,
indeed. Know you not Mr. Linsey-Wolsey?
Crasy.
Not at his house?
Crack.
Pardon me, Sir. At his very house. All the wise wenches i’the town will thwack
to such sanctuaries when the times are troublesome, and troopers trace the
streets in terror.
Crasy.
Prithee, what call’st
thy Mistress?
Crack.
There she lies, Sir,
by the name of Mistress Tryman; a rich young Cornish widow; though she was born
in Clerkenwell; and was never half a days journey from Bridewell in her
life. Her father was a pinmaker.
[sings]
Along along, where
the gallants throng
By twenties, away the widow to
carry;
But let them tarry:
for she will carry
Twenty, before that one she will
marry.
Will you along Sir?
Crasy.
‘Tis but a weak
engagement, yet I’ll go;
Needless are fears
where fortunes are so low.
Exit
Crasy and Crack.
ACT II
Scene
Enter
Ticket and Rufflit.
Ticket.
A widow! What is she?
Or of whence?
Rufflit.
A lusty young wench,
they say: a Cornish girl, able to wrestle down stronger chins than any of ours.
Ticket.
But how is she
purs’d, Jack? Is she strong that way?
Rufflit.
Pretty well for a
younger brother; worth seven or eight thousand pounds.
Ticket.
How man!
Rufflit.
You are a married
man, and cannot rival me; I would not else be so open to you.
Ticket.
I swear I’ll help
thee all I can. How did’st find her out?
Rufflit.
I have intelligence
that never fails me, she came to town neither but very lately and lodg’d at Mr.
Linsy-Wolsey’s.
Ticket.
Who, Linsy-Wolsey,
the hermaphroditical draper! That’s a
precious knot-headed rascal. He’ll go
near to aim at her himself.
Rufflit.
Like enough. He may aim at her: but she will be hit by
none but a gentleman, that I hear too.
Oh she has a fierce ambition to a Ladyship, though her late husband was
a tanner.[93]
Ticket.
A tanner, well Jack,
take heed how thou ventur’st on her to make her a gentlewoman: she will kill
thee at her husbands occupation before thou wilt be able to make her hide
gentle. Thou wilt find a tough piece of
currier’s[94]
work on her. Look who here is.
Enter
Toby and Linsy-Wolsey.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Truly Mr. Toby
Sneakup, methinks I find an alteration in myself already.
Toby.
Nay, I told you;
would you but give your mind to it, you would be a gentleman quickly.
Ticket [to Rufflit.]
How’s this? Let’s stand aside a little.
Rufflit. [to Ticket.]
Sure, he’s about to
turn himself into a gentleman to win the widow!
Ticket [to Rufflit]
And what a tutor he
has pick’d out to instruct him!
Linsy-Wolsey.
Methinks I love the
name of a gentleman a great deal better than I did.
Toby.
But could you find in
your heart to lend a gentleman a score of angels, Mr. Wolsey, on his word?
Linsy-Wolsey.
Uhm…It is not gone so
far upon me yet.
Toby.
Oh, but it must
though, I know it. A citizen can never
be a gentleman till he has lent all, or almost all his money to gentlemen. What a while it was ’ere the rich joiner’s
son was a gentleman? When I myself was a
gentleman first, my money did so burn in my pockets, that it cost me all that
ever I had, or could borrow, or steal from my mother.
Linsy-Wolsey.
But Mr. Toby, a man
may be a country gentleman, and keep his money, may he not?
Toby.
You see Sir, this
widow is remov’d from the country into the city, to avoid the multiplicity of
country gentlemen that were her suitors.
Nay, you must be a city gallant or a courtier.
Linsy-Wolsey.
I see no courtiers
but are more apt to borrow than to lend.
Toby.
Aye, those that were
born or bred courtiers I grant you, but to come to’t at your years…
Linsy-Wolsey.
I can the sooner
learn. Your courtier Sir, I pray.
Toby.
I’ll tell you in a
brief character was taught me. Speak
nothing that you mean, perform nothing that you promise, pay nothing that you
owe, flatter all above you, scorn all beneath you, deprave all in private,
praise all in public; keep no truth in your mouth, no faith in your heart; no
health in your bones, no friendship in your mind, no modesty in your eyes, no
religion in your conscience; but especially, no money in your purse.
Linsy-Wolsey.
O that article spoils
all.
Toby.
If you do, take heed
of spending it on anything but panders,[95] punks,[96] and
fiddlers; for that were the most unfashionable.
Linsy-Wolsey.
I thank you, Sir, for
your courtly and gentlemanlike instructions, and wish you grace to follow them:
I have seen too fearful an example lately in my neighbour, Crasy, whose steps I
list not trace; nor lend my money to be laugh’d at among my neighbours. Fare you well, Sir.
Linsy-Wolsey
begins to leave.
Toby.
Ha ha ha.
Rufflit.
Mr. Wolsey! Well met.
How does your fair guest at home, Mrs. Tryman?
Ticket
talks aside with Toby.
Linsy-Wolsey. [aside]
How should he come to
the knowledge of her? Some of these gallants
will snatch her up, if I prevent not speedily.
Rufflit.
Why speak you not Mr.
Wolsey? How does the widow?
Linsy-Wolsey.
Truly not well,
Sir. Whether it be weariness of her
journey, change of air, or diet, or what I know not; something has distemper’d
her.
Rufflit.
Or love, perhaps of
you Mr. Wolsey.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Me? Alas, I look like no such gentleman.
Rufflit.
You may in a short
time. Hark hither Mr. Wolsey.
Rufflit
and Linsy-Wolsey go aside.
Ticket. [to Toby]
We overheard you man:
and I guess’d as much before.
Toby. [to Ticket]
‘Tis very true Sir,
she is worth nine thousand pounds: but marry she will not but a gentleman: and
I think I have beat him off o’th condition.
I have put him off o’that scent forever with a false character, Heaven
and court forgive me.
Ticket. [to Toby]
Thou hast in troth
boy: and on purpose to have her thyself, I perceive it.
Toby. [to Ticket]
He does not: he’s an
ass.[97]
Ticket. [to Toby]
Well, if I were a
bachelor, I should envy thy wit, and thy fortune. Is she very handsome?
Toby. [to Ticket]
So so: you shall see
we’ll make a shift with her.
Rufflit.
Mr. Wolsey, I would
you had her with all my heart; you shall not want my good word and best wishes.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Do you speak this in
earnest, Sir, or as you are a courtier?
Rufflit.
In earnest aye, and
as I am a gentleman.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Then in earnest, and
as I am an honest man, I do not believe you.
Mr. Toby Sneakup has told me what gentlemen and courtiers are, too
lately.
Rufflit.
Mr. Sneakup, well
met.
Toby.
Good Mr. Rufflit.
Enter
Crack singing.
Crack.
Now fair maids lay
down my bed,
And draw the curtains round:
Tell the world that I am
dead
And who hath given the wound,
Ah me poor soul!
Alack for love I die,
Then to the sexton[98] hie[99],
And cause the bell to
toll[100]
O here he is! Mr. Wolsey, indeed my Master Wolsey, if ever
you will see my Mistress your sweetheart alive, you must go home presently.
Linsy-Wolsey.
My sweetheart!
Crack.
I think she is; and
that in death she will be so. I speak by
what she says, and others think.
Toby.
‘Tis the widows boy.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Is she sicker than
she was?
Crack.
O she is even
speechless, and calls for you exceedingly.
I fetch’d a doctor to her, and[101] he can
do her no good. Master Sarpego has made
her will and all.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Has she given me
anything?
Crack.
Quickly go and see
Sir, you will come too late else, I am going to get the bell to toll for her.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Fare ye well
gentlemen.
Toby, Ticket and
Rufflit.
Nay, we’ll along with
you.
Exit
Linsy-Wolsey, Toby, Ticket and Rufflit.
Crack. [sings]
Did never truer heart
Out of the world
depart
Or cause the bell to
toll.
Exit
Crack.
ACT
Scene I
Enter Tryman,
attended by Isabell, Jone and Crasy, with a basin.
Isabell.
Look up Mistress.
Jone.
Take a good heart,
the worst is past, fear not.
Tryman.
Ah, ah, ah.
Isabell.
Reach the bottle
again of Doctor Stephen’s water.
Crasy.
No no, apply more
warm clothes[102]
to her stomach, there the matter lies which sends this distemper[103] into
her brain. Be of good cheer gentlewoman.
Tryman.
Is Mr. Wolsey there?
Isabell.
Nothing but Mr.
Wolsey ever in her mouth.
Jone. [to Crasy.]
Pray Sir, how do you
like her? I am much afraid of her.
Crasy.
Let me see, tonight
it will be full moon. And she scape the
turning of the next tide. I will give
her a gentle vomit in the morning that shall ease her stomach of this conflux[104] of
venomous humours, and make her able to sit a hunting nag within this sennight.[105]
Jone.
A rare man sure. And, I warrant, well seen in a woman:
Tryman.
Uh, uh, uh, uh.
Tryman
coughs and spits.
Crasy.
Well said, spit out
gently, strain not yourself too hard.
Tryman.
Agh….fagh.
Crasy.
‘Tis very well done.
La’you. Her colour begins to come. I’ll lay all my skill to a mess of Tewkesbury
mustard, she sneezes thrice within these three hours…
Enter
Linsy-Wolsey.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Good Sir want nothing
that your skill shall approve necessary in this time of need. Good wives and kind neighbours, I thank you
for your cares.
Tryman.
Is Mr. Wolsey there?
Isabell.
She does nothing but
call for you Sir, pray speak to her.
Tryman.
Where’s Mr. Wolsey?
Linsy-Wolsey.
Here Lady. How do you?
Tryman.
Then I am even well
methinks…agh…agh…
Linsy-Wolsey.
She’s very far gone I
fear, how do you find her disease, Sir?
Crasy.
Dangerous enough
Sir. For she is sicker in mind than in
body. For I find most plainly the
effects of a deep melancholy, fall’n through her distemper of passion upon her
liver; much disordering, and withal wasting the vitals, leaving scarce matter
for physic to work on. So that her mind
receiving the first hurt, must receive the first cure.
Tryman.
Agh agh ah…pagh fagh…
Tryman
coughs up in the basin.
Crasy.
So so: strain not
yourself too hard. No hurt; so so. Here’s melancholy and choler[106] both
in plenty.
Jone. [aside]
He speaks with great
reason, methinks, and to the purpose, I would I understood him.
Crasy.
Do you not know, Sir,
any that has offended her by open injury, or unkindness?
Linsy-Wolsey.
Alas Sir, no such
thing could happen since her coming hither.
Crasy.
Then, on my life,
‘tis love that afflicts her.
Tryman.
Oh oh uh oh…
Crasy.
I have touch’d her to
the quick. I have found her disease, and
that you may prove the abler doctor in this extremity.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Who I? Alas I believe no such matter.
Tryman.
Mr. Wolsey, Mr.
Wolsey.
Crasy.
Here he is Lady. Pray speak your mind to him. Must I pull you to her? Here he is.
What do you say to him? Pray
speak.
Tryman.
Oh no, no no no…
Crasy.
She hath something
troubles her that concerns only you.
Pray take her by the hand, do as I entreat you. Lady we will go, and leave you in private
awhile, if you please.
Tryman.
Pray do. O but do not, pray do not.
Crasy.
Do you perceive
nothing in this passion of hers? How
does she feel your hand?
Linsy-Wolsey.
O, she does so
quiddle it, shake it, and gripe it!
Crasy.
You are then the man
Sir, the happy man. For she shall
recover suddenly.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Who I? Alack a day.
Tryman.
What, will you have
me die intestate? Is not my will made,
as I directed?
Jone.
Where are you Mr.
Sarpego, with the will?
Enter
Sarpego, Ticket, Rufflit and Toby.
Sarpego.
Ad manum. Sweet buds of
generosity, forbear: you may admire[107], at
the abundance here specified, but not find a single legacy bequeath’d among
you.
A
will is produced.
Ticket.
We expect nothing.
Rufflit.
I only wish your
health, Lady; and that it may, or might have been my happiness to sue to you
for love; as I do now to the highest Power[108] for
life.
Toby.
Would I were married
to her, as she is; and ’twere but for an hour, I car’d not. Had my mother been but acquainted with her,
before she fell sick, here had been a match!
Sarpego.
O Dij immortals![109] A rich widow shall
have suitors on her deathbed.
Tryman.
[to Rufflit]
Good Sir, it is too late to speak of these things. I only crave and wish your prayers in your
absence: this place can yield no pleasure to you I know. Mr. Wolsey, pray your hand again: I could be
even content to live methinks, if I had but such a man as you to my huh, uh uh,
uh…
She
coughs.
Crasy.
By your leave. Pray by your leave. Help women.
Bear up her body a little. Bow it
forwards. So, speak to her, Sir. Good Lady drink of this cordial.
She
drinks.
Linsy-Wolsey.
How do you now
forsooth?
Crasy.
What now she is
drinking…Now speak, Sir, you or no man must do her good.
Linsy-Wolsey.
How do you forsooth?
Crasy.
Well said, Sir, speak
cheerfully to her.
Linsy-Wolsey.
How dee do? How dee do, Mistress Tryman how ist now, ha?
Ticket.
Very comfortably
spoken!
Rufflit.
Aye, was it not?
Linsy-Wolsey.
Alas she cannot
speak. I’ll call my neighbour Mistress
Sneakup. If anybody can make her speak,
‘tis she.
Toby.
I’ll call my Mother
for you. She will make her speak, if she
have but a word left in her belly…mass, here she comes.
Enter
Pyannet and Josina.
Pyannet.
How comes it, Mr.
Wolsey, that you have a gentlewoman sick in your house, and not send for
me? Let me feel her hand. Alas she is shrewdly distemper’d. When had she a stool Sir? Prithee daughter step home to my closet, and
bring the vial of my own water, which stands next to my blue velvet cabinet.
Josina. [aside]
That’s my doctor was
with me today.
Exit
Josina.
Pyannet.
She’s a young
gentlewoman; may have many children yet, let me note her eyes: I find nothing
there. When did you see her water Mr.
Doctor?
Crasy.
What devil sent this
fury among us?
Pyannet.
In troth I beshrew
you, Mr. Wolsey, you sent not for me, but I hope I come not too late. Pluck up a womans heart, you shall find a
good neighbour of me.
Tryman.
I will thank you in
my will. I shall not live to thank you
otherwise.
Pyannet.
Alas talk not of your
will. You shall have time enough to
think of that many years hence.
Crasy.
I tell her so, Lady,
yet she calls for it still.
Tryman.
Pray let me see it,
that I may sign it. Uh uh…
Pyannet.
Lord how my daughter
stays. Good Sir Andrew Ticket! Worthy Mr. Rufflit! My son Tobias is highly honour’d in your
noble acquaintance, and courtly conversation.
Ticket.
We rather hold
ourselves dignified in being his endear’d companions.
Toby.
I assure you Mother,
we are the three of the Court.
Pyannet.
I most entirely thank
you for him. And I do beseech you make
yourselves no strangers to my poor house.
We are alone; can give but light entertainment, my daughter and I; since
my son Crasy’s misfortune drove[110] him
from us…
Enter
Josina with a vial.
O welcome daughter…I
beseech you noble Sirs estrange not yourselves to us, your servants.
Crasy. [aside]
Pox o’your
complement.
Pyannet.
Give me the vial
daughter. Take up the Lady. Taste of this. It is a composition of mine own distilling.
Tryman
drinks.
Tryman.
Uh, uh, uh, umh…
Pyannet.
Well done. Nay it will make you break wind, I tell you.
Ticket
and Rufflit court Josina.
Ticket.
By the service I owe
you sweet Mistress ‘tis unfeigned.[111] My wife desires to see you.
Rufflit.
As I can best
witness; and fears you enjoy not the liberty of a woman, since your husband’s
departure. Your brother having promis’d
too to conduct you to court.
Toby.
It is confess’d, and
I will do it.
Ticket.
Where the best
entertainment a poor Lady’s chamber can afford shall expect you.
Josina.
I shall embrace it.
Crasy.
[aside]
’Sfoot, ‘tis time to part you…Mistress, I beseech your help, join’d with your
virtuous Mother’s.
Crasy
pulls Josina aside.
Josina.
You forget the young
man that can dance, write, and keep counsel.
Crasy.
I forget you not
lady. But I wish you to beware of these
courtiers, till I tell you what they are.
Rufflit.
I’ll be hang’d if
this doctor be not of her smock counsel.
Pyannet.
How is it now, good
heart?
Tryman.
Much enlightened, I
thank Heaven and you. Now, pray, read
Sir, my will.
Sarpego.
In Dei nomine.[112] Amen.
Ticket.
O let us hear the
will.
Sarpego.
I, Jane Tryman of
Knockers Hole,[113] in the
County of Cornwell, widow, sick in body, but whole in mind, and of perfect
memory, do make my last will and testament, in manner and form following.
Crasy.
As for the manner and
form ‘tis no matter. To the legacies,
briefly.
Sarpego.
Hum hum. Imprimis,[114] a dole
of bread to be given to the poor of this parish: five pounds.
Tryman.
Stay. This I entreat of you Mr. Wolsey, that
whether I live or die, this dole may be given tomorrow. It was the charge of my mother to see it
done; saying it was better to take the prayers of the poor with me, than leave
them to be sent after.
Linsy-Wolsey.
It shall be done: and
you, I hope, shall see it.
Sarpego.
To Mr. Sarpego, the
writer hereof, a mourning gown, and forty pounds, to preach at the funeral.
Linsy-Wolsey.
How! Forty pounds?
Sarpego.
Di boni![115] No.
‘Tis forty shillings. Item to my
nephew, Sir Marmaduke Trevaughan of St. Miniver, one thousand pounds in
gold. Item to my nephew Mr. Francis
Trepton, one thousand pounds in gold.
Item to my kinsman, Sir Stephen Leggleden, I do forgive two thousand pounds,
for which his lands are mortgaged to me.
Item to his daughter, my God-daughter Jane Leggleden, five hundred
pounds in money; my best basin and ewer; two silver flagon pots, and three
silver and gilt standing cups. Item to
the poor of the parish of Knockers Hole, ten pounds, and forty pounds towards
the reparation of their church. Item to
Mr. Linsy-Wolsey the ring, which was my wedding ring, and fifty other rings,
with several stones in my trunk, in his house, valued at two hundred and fifty
pounds. Item to all his servants, and to
the women that attended me in my sickness, five pounds a piece.
Jone.
Now the Lord receive
her to his mercy.
Isabell.
My legacy will save
her life; for never anybody died yet, that bequeath’d me anything.
Sarpego.
Item, to my page
Jeffery Crack forty pounds. And all my
other servants ten pounds a piece. Item
to my niece Barnara Tredrite five hundred pounds; my second basin and ewer, a
dozen of silver dishes, and four dozen of silver spoons. Lastly, all the rest of my lands, jewels,
plate, money, debts, moveables and unmoveables, to my dear and loving brother,
Sir Gregory Flamsted, whom I make my full executor. In cujus rei testimonium, etcetera.[116] This is the brief of it.
Tryman.
‘Tis well. Only add to it…Uh…A gold chain also in my
trunk to this virtuous gentlewomen. And
another chain, that is there of pearl, to her daughter. To this learnèd doctor twenty pounds. And to the gentlemen which have visited me,
for them and their friends an hundred pounds to be spent in a banquet.
Sarpego.
Hoc nihil refert.[117] I must write all over again then.
Tryman.
Do so then. And make your forty shillings five pounds.
Sarpego.
Gratias vel ingentes
ago.[118] It shall be done.
Exit
Sarpego.
Tryman.
Now Mr. Wolsey, and
your virtuous neighbour here, I entreat, that when I have signed this will,
that you keep it till my brother comes to town.
This doctor shall direct you in all.
And that he may be the better able to do so, I desire you all that I may
a while be private with him.
All.
With all our hearts.
Exit
all, except Crasy and Tryman.
Tryman.
Are they all
gone? Now Mr. Doctor, what think you of
the sick widow? Has she done her part
hitherto?
Crasy.
Beyond my
expectation! Better than I for a doctor.
Tryman.
You are right. And I am even the same for a widow as you for
a doctor. Do not I know you? Yes good Mr. Crasy. I dare trust you, because you must trust
me. Therefore know that I, the rich
widow, am no better than a lady that must live by what I bear about me. The vulgar translation you know, but let them
speak their pleasure, I have no lands, and since I am born, must be kept, I may
make the best of my own, and if one member maintain the whole body what’s that
to anyone?[119]
Crasy.
I collected as much
by your young whiskin that brought me hither.
Tryman.
It was by my
direction that he did so. And, by my
instructions, he has had an eye upon you in all your disguises ever since your
pretended journey out of town. Nay
startle not, nor muse at my acquaintance with you: I have had you in my
purlieus, before you were a freeman[120]: and
will hereafter give you certain tokens of it.
In the mean time, if you comply with me, you can be no loser by it. I am grown weary of my old course; and would
fain, by wiser, do myself good, before age or diseases make it too late.
Crasy.
I will work close and
friendly with thee. Therefore say, this
rich cockscomb is thine own. O here
comes your pigwidgeon.[121]
Enter
Crack.
Tryman.
He is of counsel, and
one of us. He is indeed my brother, and
has been one of the true blue boys of the hospital; one of the sweet singers to
the city funerals with a two penny loaf under his arm.
Crack.
Well: he never sung
to the wheel in Saint Brides Nunnery yonder.
Tryman.
Nay Jeff, be not
angry; thou hast sung to the organs I know, till fearing their downfall, thou
betook’st thy self into my more certain service. All friends, good Jeff.
Crasy.
Yes, yes, we must all
agree, and be link’d in covenant together.
Crack.
By indenture
tripartite, and’t please you, like Subtle, Doll, and Face.[122]
Crasy.
Witty Jeff. I cannot see which can be spar’d from the
rest, lest[123]
the whole trade break.
Crack. [sings].
Then let us be
friends, and most friendly agree.
The pimp and the punk
and the doctor are three,
That cannot but
thrive, when united they be.
The pimp brings in custom, the punck
she gets treasure,
Of which the physician is sure of
his measure,
For work that she makes him in sale
of her pleasure.
For which, when she
fails by diseases or pain,
The doctor new vamps
and upsets her again.
Crasy.
Thou art a brave lad,
and in the high way of preferment.
Crack.
Not the high Holborn
way,[124] I hope
Sir.
Crasy.
And for you damsel,
as I said before, say to yourself, the match is your.
Tryman.
I mean to say, and
know it shortly. Some three days hence
all may be completed. Now draw the
curtains; and follow your affairs, while I put on my sick face again. Uh, uh, uh.
They
put in the bed, and withdraw.
Exit
Tryman, Crasy and Crack.
ACT III
Scene II
Enter
Sarpego.
Sarpego.
Now could I accost
that Catilinarian[125] traitor,
that defeated me of my ten pounds, I have a precogitated oration should make
him suspend himself. But abiit,
evasit, erupit.[126] Or if the rich widow would have died, there
had been a supply. But she is nearer a
nuptial, than a funeral: and hopeless Sarpego, that should wed, has not to
furnish him to his intent, vae mihi miero nec aurum, nec argent…tum![127] Here comes my beatitude.[128]
Enter
Bridget.
Bridget.
O, are you here,
Sir? I was to seek you. My old mistress would speak with you
instantly.
Sarpego.
My legitimate spouse,
when is our day of conjunction?[129]
Bridget.
Our day of
conjunction? Mary faugh[130]
Goodman Fiste. Our day of conjunction?
Sarpego.
Did you not once vow
you did love me?
Bridget.
Did you not once
swear you had money?
Sarpego.
Hic iacet,[131] I am now but a dead man.
Enter
Pyannet, Sneakup, and Crasy disguised like a court-messenger.
Pyannet.
O where’s Mr.
Sarpego? Fortunate Mr. Sarpego? Venerable Mr. Sarpego? O Sir, you are made. Never think under right worshipful. Imagine nothing beneath damask gowns, velvet
jackets, satin sleeves, silk nightcaps, two pages and a footcloth.
Sarpego.
The Son of Phoebus[132]
rectify your brain-pan.
Sneakup.
Indeed, and’t shall
please your Worship, it is…
Pyannet.
It is!
What is it? You will be speaking,
will you? And your wife in presence,
will you? You show your bringing
up. Master Sarpego, bless the time that
ever you knew the progeny of the Sneakups:
my worshipful son and heir apparent hath preferred you to be the young
Prince’s tutor.[133] Here’s Mr. Holywater, a gentleman; of place,
a courtier; of office, is sent for you.
Crasy.
Right
fortunately-learnèd Sir. So passionately
doth his Grace approve the language, literature, and haviour[134] of
your sometimes pupil, Master Tobias Sneakup.
Sarpego.
Umh.
Crasy.
That I was, with all
expedition, commanded to entreat your instant attendance.
Sarpego.
Umh Umh…
Crasy.
‘Tis even so Sir; you
are like to possess a Prince’s ear; you may be in place, where you may scorn
your foes; countenance your friends; cherish virtue, control vice, and despise
fortune: yes sure shall you Sir. And,
which I had almost forgot, your old pupil entreats you to send him by me the
ten pounds he lent you: an odd[135] ten
pounds, that he may be furnish’d with the more seemly complements to conduct
you to his Grace.
Sarpego.
Quid nunc?[136]
Pyannet.
Whisht[137] Mr.
Sarpego. Let not your poverty be read in
your face. Here’s ten pieces. Bear it as your own payment: you talk of ten
pounds for my son, Sir.
Sarpego.
O, an odd
driblet. Here, friend, I use not to
carry silver: convey it in gold.
Bridget.
I hope, dear love,
you will not forget your affection to me now.
Sarpego.
Poor maid, I will
prefer thee to scratch my head; make my bed; wash my shirt, pick my toes, and
evacuate my chamber pot. I will
instantly procure me attire, fitting my fortune, and attend the Grace of Court.
Exit
Sarpego.
Bridget.
Now am I but a dead
woman.
Crasy.
I am much griev’d
for’t. It was your sons much labouring,
that Mr. Crasy was sent for, to sell his Grace some jewels: but since his
fortunes are so sunk that he hides his head, I can but lament his loss.
Pyannet.
Shall I tell you Sir,
pray you husband stand aside; my son-in-law Crasy is not now worth…his very
wife. We hop’d he would have prov’d a
crafty merchant, and he prov’d an honest man, a beggar, if I chance to speak
above your capacity, I pray tell me of it, and as I said, when I perceiv’d he
began to melt, and that every stranger abused him; I, having some wit, fell to,
and most cozen’d him myself. I look’d
for my daughter’s good: and so betwixt us, found the trick to get, or steal
from him two jewels of good deep value, being indeed the main of his rest of
fortune. Now Sir, I come to you.
Crasy.
Aye, now you come to
the point.
Pyannet.
Right
Sir: for there is no woman, though she use never so many by-words, but yet in
the end she will come to the point. Now
Sir, I having these jewels will send them by my husband. A poor easy weak man, as you see; but very
obedient in truth…
Crasy.
By
your husband.
Pyannet.
Yes,
do you mark? By my husband. But now note my wit: his Grace knows not
Crasy: my husband, habited like a citizen, shall take the name of Crasy upon
him; offer his jewels to the Prince; you shall present them; praise them and
raise them; his Grace pays; my husband returns; and we will share. Do you approve?
Crasy.
Nay
admire.
Pyannet.
Away
then. No complement among good wits; but
away. [Exit Crasy] Come your ways
hither, good man; put off your hat; make a leg; look simply. Why so!
Pish, ne’er tell me: he will make a rare citizen. I have jewels for you to carry to the Prince.
Sneakup.
Yes
forsooth, I’ll carry them.
Pyannet.
La! You are so quick! I have charg’d you not to shoot your bolt,
before you understand your mark. And you
shall carry them like a citizen; call yourself Crasy; sell them at my price;
and now cast no further. You see the
limits of your understanding. Now Sir,
how will you bear yourself to his Grace?
How behave yourself at court?
Sneakup.
I
hope I am not too wise to learn.
Pyannet.
Why,
that was well spoken. Modest mistrust is
the first step to knowledge. Remember
that sentence. Now mark. I will instruct you: when you come at the
Court gate, you may neither knock nor piss.
Do you mark? You go through the
Hall cover’d; through the great Chamber cover’d; through the Presence bare;
through the Lobby cover’d; through the Privy Chamber bare; through the Privy
Lobby cover’d; to the Prince bare.[138]
Sneakup.
I’ll
do’t I warrant you. Let me see. At the Court gate neither knock nor make
water. May not a man break wind?
Pyannet.
Umh,
yes: but, like the Exchequer payment, somewhat abated.[139]
Sneakup.
Through
the great Chamber bare.
Pyannet.
Cover’d.
Sneakup.
Cover’d? Well: through the presence cover’d.
Pyannet.
Bare.
Sneakup.
Bare? I will put all down in my table-book, and con
it by the way.
Pyannet.
Well
thought on. Something he has in him like
my husband! But now you come before the
brow of Royalty. Now for your carriage
there, Sir: suppose me the Prince. Come
in, and present. Here sits the
Prince. There enters the jeweller. Make your honours. Let me see you do it handsomely.
Sneakup.
Yes,
now I come in; make my three legs[140]… And then…
Pyannet.
Kneel.
Sneakup.
Yes;
and say…
Pyannet.
What?
Sneakup.
Nay,
that I know not.
Pyannet.
An’t
please your Grace, I have certain jewels to present to your liking.
Sneakup.
An’t
please your Grace, I have certain jewels to present to your liking.
Pyannet.
Is
this Crasy, that had wont to serve me with jewels? It is that honest man, so please your
Highness. That’s for Mr. Holywater, the
by-flatterer to speak. You are a
cuckoldy knave, sirrah, and have often abused me with false and deceitful
stones.
Sneakup.
My
stones are right, so please your Excellence.
Pyannet.
Why
that was well, very well. I perceive
there is a certain infection taken with lying with a woman that hath a good
wit. I find it by my husband. Come, I’ll disguise you, and away to court
instantly.
Sneakup.
Truly
wife, I fear I shall be discover’d among the gallants presently.
Pyannet.
No,
no. A fool is never discover’d among
madmen.
Exit
Pyannet and Sneakup.
ACT
III
Enter Tryman
and Crasy disguised in his court habit.
Crasy.
Well Dol,[141] that
thou saist is thy name though I had forgotten thee, I protest. About London-wall was it (saist thou?). Well, I cannot but highly commend thy wisdom
in this, that so well hast mended thy election; from being a fountain of aches,
bald brows, and broad plasters, thus to remember thy creation.
Tryman.
I did consider, and I
think rightly, what I was; and that men that lov’d my use, lov’d it but to
loath me: therefore I chang’d myself into this shape of a demure, innocent
country widow, that had scarce beauty enough to be tempted, but not wit enough
to be naught; and quite forsook the path I trod in, and betook me to this
private course of cozenage.
Crasy.
But all my wonder is
at the means how thou got’st into this house and reputation. And to be held a woman of such an estate.
Tryman.
That shall be made
plain to you hereafter.
Enter
Crack.
Now brother Jeffrey,
where left you Mr. Wolsey?
Crack.
Among the mercers,[142] so
troubled, as if all the satin in Cheapside were not enough to make you a wedding
gown. He is overjoy’d that his happy day
is at hand; and I overheard him invite one special friend to his nuptials. He cannot contain himself. On a sudden he fell a singing, O she’s a
dainty widow. O, are you come, Sir, in
your new shape? Does not that beard fit
you handsomely? Thank my acquaintance
with the players.
Crasy.
I think thou art
acquainted anyway, to set out knavery.
Crack.
If you can perform
your part as well, ‘tis well. Hark,[143] I hear
him coming.
Enter
Linsy-Wolsey.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Where are you sweet
widow? Look you, look you: how do like
these patterns?
Tryman.
Sir, here’s a
gentleman has a letter to you: he tells me it imports the making, or the
undoing of his dearest friend.
Linsy-Wolsey.
From whom, I pray
you?
Linsy-Wolsey
reads the letter.
Crasy.
Your sometimes
neighbour, Sir, Mr. Crasy.
Tryman. [to Crasy.]
It shall take effect,
doubt not.
Crasy. [to Tryman.]
He scratches his head
though.
Tryman. [to Crasy.]
He had as lief[144] part
with his blood as his money.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Mr. Crasy writes to
me for thirty pounds; the value of a ring I had of him. I grant I am to pay threescore at my day of
marriage. But we are all mortal. And who knows whether I shall live till
tomorrow?
Crasy.
If not, Sir, your
bond is due tonight: for it is equally payable at your hour of death.
Linsy-Wolsey.
O, but such payments
never trouble a man. What the eye sees
not…
Tryman.
Are you in bonds, Mr.
Wolsey, for your day of marriage?
Linsy-Wolsey.
Only for this sixty
pounds. ‘Tis for that ring your wear,
and I gave you upon our contract. ‘Tis
worth thirty pounds ready money.
Tryman.
Then when you are
married, you may say you paid the rest for your wife. Pray Sir, make even such reckonings before
you wed. It will show nobly in you towards
your poor creditor, and be a special argument of your love to me, your
wife. Pray discharge it; I shall not
think you love me else.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Hark you Sir, if you
will take thirty pounds in full payment, and give me in my bond, here is your money. ‘Tis your best course. [aside to Crasy.] Alas, I am an
unlikely fellow for wedlock. What woman,
think you, would bestow herself upon me, a stale bachelor, unhandsome and
poor…not worth above six or seven thousand pounds? Do; take thirty pounds.
Crasy.
If you please to
befriend Mr. Crasy but with thirty pounds, I’ll set it receiv’d upon the
bond. Here it is. And he shall demand no more till it be due.
Tryman.
Pray Sir, pay it all,
and take in your bond. You shall be
married within these two days; tomorrow, if you please: what use will your
money yield you for a night? Pray pay
it. In truth I’ll pay it else. ‘Tis but threescore pounds.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Saist thou so,
sweetheart. Come Sir. Come in and tell your money.
Exit
Linsy-Wolsey, Tryman and Crack.
Crasy.
And thank you too,
good Mr. Linsy-Wolsey, that knew so well, a bargain was a bargain, and would
not part with your money to be laugh’d at among your neighbours. I would heartily now, if I could intend it. But I must purse your money, and then about
my court affairs. This wench I am
infinitely beholden to. She remembers
some old courtesy that I have forgotten.
Perhaps I piddled[145] with
her when I was prentice.
Exit
Crasy.
ACT III
Enter
Sarpego in gorgeous apparel.
Sarpego.
This is the Presence.[146] I am much amaz’d, or stupefied, that Mr.
Tobias Sneakup, my quondam[147] pupil,
attends not my conduct! Ha! So instant was his Grace, his importunity to
enjoy me, that although I purchased the loan of clothes, yet I had not
vacation, nor indeed variety to shift my shirt.
And now I come to court, I feel certain little cattell of infamous
generation about me that do most inseparably haunt me. Now if, when the Prince surveys me, any of
them being strangers here, should peep to behold strange sights, and his Grace
perceive them, what should I answer?…
Crasy
at the hangings.
Crasy. [aside.]
O, my glorified
pedant in his most natural strut!
Sarpego.
I will say it was by
influence of the heavens; or, to appear the more perfect courtier at the first
dash, I will say that though my outside were glorious, yet of purpose I left my
inside lousy.[148][Enter
Sneakup like a citizen.] Sed, O
Dii! Quem video? Nonne Mr. Sneakup?[149]
Crasy. [aside.]
See my worshipful
father-in-law! Now the woodcocks[150] shoot
into the glade.
Sneakup.
Pray ye peace, you
must not know me.
Sarpego.
O monstrum horrendum![151] May not you and I know one another?
Sneakup.
Pray go home, and ask
my wife.
Enter
Crasy in haste.
Crasy.
Mr. Crasy. Is not one Mr. Crasy here?
Sneakup.
Yes, Sir. Here is Mr. Crasy for a need, Sir.
Crasy.
Well done: be bold
Sir. Let not your dissimulation be read
in your eyes. [152] You know me; give me the jewels.
Sneakup.
Yes Sir.
Crasy.
Let me alone to
present them to his Grace, and praise them, before you are call’d.
Sneakup.
Will you do so, Sir?
Crasy.
Yes; for you know I
must not seem to endear them before your face: for that would smell rank of
correspondency.[153]
Sneakup.
You say right Sir.
Crasy.
But betwixt us both
we’ll make a shift to cheat him. Stay
you here. I will return instantly. O Mr. Sarpego! Your pupil will come and conduct you
presently.
[aside.] Thus sometimes, by deceit, deceit is known:
‘tis
honest craft, by wit to get ones own.
Exit
Crasy.
Enter
Ticket, Rufflit and Toby.
Toby.
My quondam
pedagogue![154]
Sarpego.
My nuper alumnus![155] Come, present me to the Grace of
Greatness. I am ready; behold I am
approach’d according to thy entreats, to approve thy praise, and mine own
perfection. Set on: his Grace shall see
that we can speak true Latin, and construe Ludovicus Vives:[156] go,
set on.
Toby.
I cry you mercy
Sir. Upon my troth, I took you for Mr.
Sarpego, my learned tutor. He is very
like him; is he not gentlemen? But now I
come to myself again; I remember this was never his walk, nor these his
clothes.
Sarpego.
Sent you not a nuntius,[157] or a
messenger for me, intimating, that it was his Grace his instant desire, to
entertain me as his instructor?
Ticket.
Alas, he has
over-studied himself! You were best let
blood in time, Sir.
Sarpego.
Sent I not you, by
the same messenger, your ten pounds?
Toby.
My ten pounds? Ha, ha ha: I would laugh i’faith, if you
could bob me off with such payment.
Rufflit.
Sure Sir, you use
some dormitories. Best shave your head,
and ’noint it with oil of roses.
Toby.
Father! Father!
Sneakup.
Pray peace son. The plot will be discover’d else.
Toby.
The plot? What plot?
Sneakup.
The jewels are sent
in. What, I am Mr. Crasy now, you
know. I shall be sent for in to his
Grace instantly.
Toby.
Midsummer Moon! Midsummer Moon![158]
Sneakup.
In
very truth son, hit as ‘twill, I say we are beholding to Mr. Holywater.
Toby.
Heaven not bless me,
if I understand not the baboon’s mumpings better than your speech. You are more dark than Delphos.[159] What Holywater?
Sneakup.
Why the gentleman,
you know, you sent to bring Mr. Crasy to serve his Grace with jewels.
Toby.
Father, heaven pardon
me: for sure I have a great desire to call you cockscomb. I sent no man; nor is there any so styled as
Holywater about the Court.
Ticket.
Do you not want
sleep, Sir?
Rufflit.
Or have you not seen
a spirit, Sir?
Ticket.
Or have you not
over-mus’d, or over-thought yourself, as we doubt Mr. Sarpego, here, has done?
Toby.
Or has not my mother
over-beaten you, Father? You may tell
me.
Sneakup.
Son, I am not so very
a fool, but I perceive I am made a stark ass.
Oh son, thy father is cozen’d; and thy mother will beat me indeed,
unless your charity conceal me in the Court here, till her fury be over.
Ticket.
He shall stay at my
wife’s chamber.
Rufflit.
And there instruct us
in the passages of this cozenage.
Toby.
Do not weep
father. My Lady Ticket will appease all.
Rufflit.
Adieu Mr. Sarpego. Lure
your brains back again.
Exit
Rufflit, Ticket, Toby and Sneakup.
Sarpego.
Sic transit gloria
mundi.[160] The learned is cony-caught;[161] and
the lover of Helicon is laugh’d at. The
last six-pence of my fortune is spent; and I will go cry in private.
Exit
Sarpego.
ACT IV
Scene I
Enter
Crasy disguised as a dancer.
Crasy.
Now, while my politic
mother-in-law is in expectation of her great adventure, and my worshipful
father-in-law stinks at court for fear of her, I in this last disguise will
pursue my new affairs. Methinks these
jewels smile on me now more cheerfully than when they were mine own
before. First to my honest punk.
Crack
meets Crasy at the door.
Crack.
Who would you speak
with, Sir?
Crasy.
With
thy sister. Dost thou not know me,
Jeffrey? Where is she? Look better on me.
Crack.
O, is it you,
Sir? Hang me if I knew you in this
habit, though I was set here on purpose to watch for you.
Crasy.
What’s the matter,
Jeffrey?
Crack.
Sir, she is fallen
into a new fit of melancholy. Some new
project she has in her noddle.[162] But she desires you to work upon this, [he
gives Crasy a paper] I dare not be seen to talk with anybody.
Exit
Crack.
Crasy.
What new device is
this? [he reads] ‘Since I last
saw you, your mother-in-law, Mrs. Sneakup, has earnestly dealt with me to make
me a bride for her son Tobias. If there
be anything wrought out of it to benefit you, I will suddenly take occasion to
break with the fool Wolsey of whom I am heartily weary; and after, be wholly
disposed by you.’ Sure this wench studies
nothing but my profit. Well: I have
thought already to make the best of her.
Now to my new mistress. This is
the house, and here’s her maid.
Enter
Bridget.
Bridget.
Would you speak with
any here, Sir?
Crasy.
With your mistress, I
take it, Mistress Crasy.
Bridget.
May not I deliver
your mind unto her, Sir?
Crasy.
My business is of
weight and secrecy: yet you may tell her, here is the gentleman that her doctor
sent her.
Bridget.
O she expects him
most impatiently…Pray enter, Sir. She’s
ready for you, there before you, Sir…
Exit
Crasy.
A business of mine
own makes me wait here.
I think I saw my
learnèd love make this way.
But he, alas, though
small in fleshly growth,
By reason of his high
preferment is
Now grown too great
for me.
Enter
Sarpego musing.
‘Tis he; I know his
stature,
Though not his
clothes, the ensigns of his greatness,
In which how big he
seems, though but a sprawler!
So clothes can make
men greater, but not taller.[163]
He’s deep in study; I
dare not interrupt him.
Sarpego.
I have adventur’d,
though with trembling feet,
Unto this mansion, to
exonerate,[164]
At least extenuate[165] my
suspirations[166]
For my dear
loss. The Lady of this place,
Who had an equal
venture, and hath suffer’d
In the same fate with
me, may ease my sorrow.
Solamen miseris
socios habuisse doloris.[167]
I of my wrongs, and
she of hers shall clamour.
But ecce noster
ubi esset Amor.[168]
Bridget.
Most worshipful Sir,
welcome from court,
If your poor handmaid
may presume to say so.
Sarpego.
Where is your
mistress? I mean your grand
Matrona,[169] Mrs. Sneakup?
Bridget.
In the first place,
let me beseech you, Sir,
Vouchsafe your answer
to a longing maid,
That can be comforted
in nothing more
Than the good news of
your prosperity;
Of which I hope a
part at least to be,
Preferr’d by your
late promise to your service.
Sarpego.
I will now breath a
most strong and poetical execration[170]
Against the universe.
Bridget.
Sir, I beseech you…
Sarpego.
From henceforth Erit
Fluvius Deucalionis[171]
The world shall flow
with dunces; Regnabitque,[172] and it
shall rain
Dogmata Polla Sophon,[173] dogs
and polecats, and so forth.
Bridget.
His court advancement
makes him mad, I fear.
Sarpego.
From hence let
learning be abomination
’Mong the plebeians,
till their ignorance
Shall lead them blind
into the Lake of Lethe[174].
Bridget.
What pity ‘tis that
honour and high places
Should make men lose
their wits, sometimes their heads![175]
Sarpego.
May Peasantry and
Idiotism trample
Upon the heads of Art
and Knowledge, till
The world be shuffled
in th’pristine Chaos.
Bridget.
Dear Sir, though you
are highly dignified,
Forget not the
preferment that you promis’d me,
To scratch your head;
to make your bed; to wash
Your shirt; to pick
your toes, and to evacuate
Your chamber pot.
Sarpego.
Elephantum ex musca
facit.[176] She takes me for a
mountain, that am but a mole-hill.
But when she reads my
poverty again,
And that these
garments must return to th’gambrels,[177]
Her scorn will be
impetuous.
Enter
Josina and Crasy.
Josina.
Go find another room,
maid, for your talk,
Mr. Sarpego, my
mother calls for you.
Sarpego.
Has she receiv’d aliquid
novi,[178]
news from court?
Josina.
She has now receiv’d
a letter. Pray be gone,
I have more serious
business of mine own.
Exit
Sarpego and Bridget.
You are the creature
then that my dear Doctor has sent me, that can dance, read, write, and be
secret. I shall use you all in all. And I prithee how fares my physician?
Crasy.
I can confirm that he
is yours protestedly. And tomorrow
night…
Josina.
Peace: here comes my
mother.
Enter
Pyannet reading a letter.
I can my cinquepace[179]
friend. But I prithee teach me some
tricks. Who would care for a female,
that moves after the plain pace? No:
give me the woman of tricks. Teach me
some tricks, I prithee.
Crasy.
Ha! Tricks of twenty: your traverses, slidings,
falling back, jumps, closings, openings, shorts, turns, pacings, gracings…As
for…Corantoes,[180]
levoltoes, jigs,[181]
measures, pavanes,[182]
brawls, galliards,[183] or
canaries,[184]
I speak it not swellingly, but I subscribe to no man.
Josina.
‘Tis a rare fellow!
Pyannet.
Am I then
cheated? My wit begins to be out of
countenance. O the plague that hangs
over her head that has a fool to her husband, as thou and I have daughter.
Josina.
How now, sweet
Mother? What ill news changeth your face
thus?
Pyannet.
O dear daughter, my
Lady Ticket writes here, that the fool, thy father, is cheated of two rich
jewels, that thou and I stole from the idiot thy husband Crasy.
Crasy.
O that Crasy was ever
a silly fellow.
Pyannet.
A very citizen, a
very citizen. How should I call you,
Sir?
Josina.
One Mr. Footwell,
Mother; who teacheth gentlewomen to do all things courtly, to dance courtly, to
love their husbands courtly…
Crasy.
Your name is Mrs.
Pyannet, I take it.
Pyannet.
Pyannet Sneakup, Sir.
Crasy.
Your husband is
cozen’d at Court, I take it.
Pyannet.
So my Lady Ticket
writes, Sir.
Crasy.
That Lady Ticket is a
cunning creature. I have been inward
with her; and such are my private intelligences, that if equal courtesy might
recompense, I could unshale[185] a plot
is upon you.
Pyannet.
Recompense? Sir, command me, command my daughter, my
maid, my house; only tell it, I beseech you.
Josina.
I pray see wherein we
may be grateful. I pray speak.
Crasy.
So it is: I am a
decayed gentleman, quite out of repair; fallen for want of means to the use of
my feet: nor have I hope to see better light, but only that Love and Fortune
have put upon me a right wealthy widow.
She lies at a near neighbour’s house here; and here I hover about her:
but for want of some good friend’s countenance, some means for clothes and fit
housing, she holds off from consummating our marriage. Now lady…
Pyannet.
I apprehend,
Sir. Bring her to me; lodge her with me;
I’ll call you Cousin, aye. Is she very
rich? At a near neighbour’s, said
you,…Not she at Mr. Wolsey’s, is it?
Crasy.
The very same.
Pyannet.
[aside] By’r
Lady a match for my esquir’d son and heir.
Bear a brain dancer, or I may chance to show you a cross caper. Sir, bring your widow. Swear to yourself my house is yours. Now the plot, or I burst.
Crasy.
Why then will I
disclose who cozen’d you; by what means you are injur’d, and how you may be
reveng’d, only you shall vow to conceal the secret-revealer, else you lose the
benefit of further intelligence.
Pyannet.
Stand off daughter: I
will not trust mine own flesh with a secret; for in truth I have found it
frail. Now speak, I beseech you.
Crasy.
Sure, precious
Mistress, very absolute creatures have had coxcombs to their husbands.
Pyannet.
Nay that’s
indubitable, I know it by myself.
Crasy.
Marry to be made
cuckqueane[186]
by such a coxcomb, to have her jewels prig’d away, to bestow on a court
mistress; to have a trick put upon her, as you have, ‘twould move, I must
confess, a woman that were not part a philosopher, and had a strong wit as you
have. Why did you not feel the
deceit? Your husband’s unworthiness,
having no means to enjoy this court-lady but by gifts; and having no course for
gifts, but from you, procures some pander to perform a fam’d message. Your hope of game puts the weighty trust upon
the counterfeit fool your husband; his simplicity seems cozen’d, whilst this
Lady excuses all, and keeps all: so that your own jewels purchase your own
horns; nay, and you were not withal laugh’d at for your purchase, ’twere scarce
enough to run mad for.
Pyannet.
‘Tis most plain: I
will have such a revenge, as never woman had.
Enter
Ticket.
Ticket.
Good Mrs. Pyannet,
bear’t as well as you may: your loss is heavy, yet under the strength of your
constant wisdom. I’faith my wife was so
careful lest you should take too deep sense of it, that she importun’d my own
presence to comfort you: for sure I know.
Pyannet.
You are a wittolly[187]
cuckold, I know. I commend thy wife’s
modesty yet: she will not do it afore thy face, but will send thee out of an
errand yet.
Ticket.
What mean you? You amaze me.
Pyannet.
Nay, I look you
should seem ignorant: what, to take sense or notice of your horn, as long as it
winds you into profit, were most uncourtly.
Well, you hear not me rage nor rave: marry I will slit the drab’s nose,
crop off her ears, scratch out her eyes…
Ticket.
Bless us!
Pyannet.
Tear off her hair,
pluck out her throat, that’s all. Come
along, Sir.
Exit
Pyannet and Ticket.
Josina.
Now they are gone, I
prithee, Mr. Footwell, stay a little; I will fetch thee some letters to read
for me, which I have not open’d yet, because I durst trust nobody.
Exit
Josina.
Crasy.
These letters must
necessarily come from my brace of courtiers, Sir Ticket, and Monsieur Rufflit,
which I will read clean contrary, as if they slighted her, and answer them
across from her meaning, as if she slighted them: and so letting myself down
into their inwards on both sides, what they can get, or what my wife has, will
I pump into mine own purse.
Enter
Josina with two letters.
Josina.
Now, dear Mr.
Footwell, as ever you pitied the case of a poor gentlewoman, that would fain
use her beauty, whilst there is some pleasure in it, read and answer these
letters with commanding eloquence; force them to affect me.
Crasy.
Ha, ha, ha: will you
not be offended, if I read them truly?
Josina.
No: I prithee what
is’t?
Crasy.
Stay, it seems you
have written to them.
Josina.
Yes: but I cannot
read the answer. Prithee what is’t?
Crasy.
Faith you’ll be
angry.
Josina.
Nay, and you love me,
what is’t?
Crasy.
Sir Andrew here, he
says, ‘tis not your broad brim’d hat, your tiffany[188] dress,
Spanish ruff, and silver bodkin can make him disloyal to his wife’s bed. Rufflit here, he writes that you have a gross
body, a wall eye, a low forehead, a black tooth, a fat hand, and a most lean
purse. Aye, there’s it: and you could
but give, and you had but to send…
Josina.
A lean purse!
Crasy.
Aye, the lean
purse. There’s the Devil: were you as
bald as time, as stiffly wrinkled as frozen plough’d lands, more dry than a
fever, more lean than death; had you ingross’d deformity, yet if you had but to
give…
Josina.
Why Footwell, though
my husband be but a bankrupt knave…
Crasy.
Nay faith, rather a
fool, Mistress.
Josina.
Well, fool let him be
then; yet I have a mother will not see me want for necessary ends: and I hope I
had the wit to cozen my husband of somewhat against a rainy day. Look you, Sir, I kept these for a friend in a
corner.
Crasy.
Nay, but I would not
wish you to send them now: what, relieve the base wants of prating skipjacks to
pay for your damnation?
Josina.
Nay that’s sure, I
will not give them.
Crasy.
And yet, i’faith,
what can a gentlewoman give too much for her pleasure? Can there be a more heavy disgrace blown
abroad upon any lady, than that she has not at the least two servants, since
many lovers are the only noble approvement of beauty?
Josina.
I’ll send them both,
that’s sure.
Crasy.
But both of them to
Mr. Rufflit: oh, he’s an absolute spirit!
He has an English face, a French tongue, a Spanish heart, and Irish
hand, a Welsh leg, a Scotch beard, and a Dutch buttock.
Josina.
O aye: I am wholly
his, I will send all to him.
Crasy.
O but Sir Andrew, he
is a courtly lover: he can kiss you courtly, handle you courtly, lie with you
courtly.
Josina.
O yes: he shall have
one. I prithee praise me to them both,
and commend to each of them one of these jewels, not that I do so much care for
the use of them, yet because I would not be wonder’d at like an owl among my
neighbours, for living honest in my husbands absence. I prithee work effectually for me, sweet Mr.
Footwell.
Exit
Josina.
Enter
Rufflit, spying her going out.
Rufflit.
Mrs. Crasy: hist,
Mrs. Crasy.
Crasy.
Peace, Sir, forbear:
as you would hope, do not pursue a woman when she is out of the humour. O, untimely importunity is most
distasteful. There are certain seasons
to take the coldest appetite, when she is pinning a ruff,[189]
playing with a monkey, hearing a wanton song, or half drunk.
Rufflit.
O, what are you, Sir?[190]
Crasy.
A private messenger
to you, Sir, from the gentlewoman you pursue.
This is your hand, is it not?
Rufflit.
Yes.
Crasy.
You may keep your
letter.
Rufflit.
But what says my
utmost hope, the end of my ambition?
Crasy.
Only that you are
poor, a gallant of a very wanting fortune.
Rufflit.
The more honour for
her to redeem me.
Crasy.
Alas, I think her
means are but weak; her husband’s sinking hath brought her low.
Rufflit.
Her husband! Alas, poor fly; only made to be suck’d and
forsaken. His wife has the life-blood of
her fortunes in her, and I’ll be her cupping glass.
Crasy.
I wonder his wife
could nourish so unbelieving a conscience!
Rufflit.
Conscience! All things rob one another: churches poule[191] the
people, princes pill[192] the
church; minions draw from princes, mistresses suck minions, and the pox undoes
mistresses; physicians plague their patients; orators their clients; courtiers
their suitors, and the Devil all. The
water robs the earth, earth chokes the water: fire burns air, air still
consumes the fire.
Since elements
themselves do rob each other,
And Phoebe[193] for
her light doth rob her brother,
What is’t in man, one
man to rob another?
Crasy.
You have spoken most
edifyingly, Sir, but for you, of whom I understand Crasy merits the best
offices; for you to corrupt his wife, and with a covetous sinning expect use
for the loan of your loins!
Rufflit.
Death man, they are
my exchequer, my rent: why I have no possession but my estate tail.[194] And as for Crasy, he has no wit; he was
created a fool, to have knaves work upon him: a fellow made to have some pity,
and all wrong; he had ever an open purse, and now an empty. He made it a common hole, every gallant had
his fingers in it. Every man lov’d his
fortune, squeez’d it, and when it was unjuic’d, farewell kind heart. I confess I owe him a good turn: I’ll pay’t
his wife. He kept her always exquisitely
neat, temptingly gallant and, as a protested cuckold should do, about his
degree and means sumptuously proud. Her
eye artificially spirited, her cheek surphuled,[195] her
teeth blanch’d, her lip painted, her neck carcanetted,[196] and
her breast bar’d almost to her belly.
And shall a piece, thus put out to sale, stand unattempted, as not worth
the purchase?
Crasy.
Yes Sir, if you could
compass her; as sure she may be corrupted: for she is very covetous.
Rufflit.
If I could but make
show of a gift, or present one…
Crasy.
Only not to appear of
so needy a fortune…Why, if you chance to possess her!
Rufflit.
Pish, t’were all mine
again, and all that she had besides. And
troth, I think she is wealthy.
Crasy.
Wealthy! Look you, Sir, here are two of her jewels I
fetch’d from an aunt of hers where they lay hid from her husband. These are not worth the pursuit.
Rufflit.
Nay, ‘tis an easy
female: he that has her has all. What
should I send? A gift would do it. Let me think.
‘Tis but a gross-bodied wench, with a blackish hair neither.
Crasy.
Oh the better. Your lean nobodies with yellow manes have
most commonly rotten teeth and wicked breaths.
No, your full plump woman is your only Venus.
Rufflit.
A hundred golden
pieces I am entrusted withal by my elder brother, to purchase a piece of
injustice. If I should send them…
Crasy.
Oh Sir, these both
were yours, and they too. She pretends
this strain, but only to explore your strength of means, and to try how far you
dare engage them for her enjoying.
Rufflit.
I will send them, win
her, use her, suck her purse, recover my own, gain hers, and laugh at the poor
cuckold her husband. Commend with these
my life’s blood, and soul’s service to my mistress. Farewell.
Exit
Rufflit.
Enter
Ticket.
Crasy.
Sir Andrew Ticket, I
take it.
Ticket.
The same, Sir. Is Mrs. Crasy within? I cannot keep pace with her mother. O, when jealousy is once set a going, it runs
on high speed. But let her make haste to
arrive at Court, while I land on her daughter in the City. Is she privately idle?
Crasy
spits at Ticket.
What dost thou mean
by that?
Crasy.
My vow’s discharg’d,
and her revenge is done. I am no pander,
Sir, and yet I am of counsel with smock secrets, buttock business, Sir. Are you so stale a courtier, and know not the
necessity of gifts?
Ticket.
Is that the matter I
am rejected by her?
Crasy.
Why? Would it not provoke any woman to be call’d
fool, and foul-face?
Ticket.
I never call’d her
so, by the soul of my affection, not I.
Crasy.
No; do you not
intimate she is a fool, when you hope to enjoy her without a gift? And foul, when your neglect of cost says she
deserves none?
Ticket.
’Fore Heaven I was a
silly ass, now I think on’t, to send a sonnet without some rich present.
Crasy.
Why, Sir? A man must do as he would be done to. Do you, or any man, use to be made cuckold
for nothing?
Ticket.
I should have sent a
gift. What, if I enjoy her, she may
requite it.
Crasy.
May; nay can; nay
will. Look you, Sir, here’s gold. Here are jewels. They are hers; they may be yours. I would not seem a pander to you, though, for
you have a wife, Sir.
Ticket.
Pish, who cares to
drink out of a river? What I can command
out of duty hath but a dull relish. Had
not Danae[197]
been kept in her brass tower, she had never tempted a god’s piercing. I must send, though it be but to show the
ability of my fortune, and the desert of her beauty.
Crasy.
And then to send but
a trifle would disgrace both.
Ticket.
Hold, convey this
carcanet unto her; ‘tis of value, and let her read by this, how much I seek
her.
Crasy.
And how dear you hold
her. Sir, I can speak; but I use to take
nothing for my pains.
Ticket.
Yes, receive this
little…Nay, I prithee.
Crasy.
Only not to appear
uncourtly, or uncivil. I protest I abhor
panderism; only as a second, or so. As
you have beheld two horses knubbing one another; Ka me, ka thee, an old kind of
courtship.
Ticket.
I prithee return
instantly my success: you shall find me at the ordinary;[198] come
and dine with me.
Crasy.
I have procur’d a
private stable for my horse: and therefore I myself would be loath to stand at
livery.
Ticket.
Dost compare common
stables for horses, and public ordinaries for gallants together?
Crasy.
Troth yes, Sir, for
as in stables, here a goodly gelding of twenty pounds price, and there a
raw-back’d jade of four nobles by him, so at ordinaries, here a worthy fellow
of means and virtue, and there a cheating shifter of wants and cozenage. Here a knight, there a beggar; here a
gallant, there a gull: here a courtier, there a coxcomb; here a Justice of
Peace, and there an esquire of low degree.
Or, in direct phrase, a pander.
Ticket.
Such a one as thou
art.
Crasy.
Umh, virtue goes
often wetshod, and is forc’d to be cobbled up with base means, to hold out
water and cold necessity. You command me
no further, Sir?
Ticket.
No honest knave,
farewell.
Exit Crasy.
Now Mr. Crasy, will I
button up your cap with a court-brooch.
You demand debts, do you? I’ll
pay you none. Oh t’was a notable dull
flat-cap. He would invite courtiers;
stand bare, say grace, make legs, kiss his hand, serve us in perfum’d linen,
and lend us money upon our words, or bare words. Were’t not a sin to let such a fool pass
unsuck’d? No, fortune dress’d him only
for us to feed on, and I’ll fall to.
Exit
Ticket.
ACT IV
Scene II
Enter
Lady Ticket, Sneakup, Toby and a Page.
Lady Ticket.
Be comforted Mr.
Sneakup; remember you are in my chamber.
Bear the heart of a husband who scorns to tremble at the face of his
wife.[199] Do not fear, Sir.
Toby.
Stand firm, father;
do not sink before the face of a Lady.
Lady Ticket.
I have sent my own
husband to satisfy her, and I hope he will do it thoroughly. Be yourself therefore; all the pleasures the
palace can afford shall strive to mitigate your fears.
Sneakup.
Have you any
pleasures in the court can make a man forget he has a wife?
Toby.
Sir, we have
pleasures will make a man forget anything, even himself; therefore necessarily
his wife, who is but part of himself.
Lady Ticket.
Boy, sing your song
of the court delights.
They
sit: Sneakup’s head in the lady’s lap.
The
Page sings.
Enter
Pyannet with a truncheon and Sarpego.
Pyannet.
Are you lull’d in
your delights? No pillow for your
goatish head, but her Ladyship’s lap?
Sneakup.
O dear! O wife!
I did not know you were so nigh truly.
Pyannet.
You are ignorant
still, I know: but I will make thy bones suffer as well as my brows. Thou cullion, could not thine own cellar
serve thee. But thou must be sneaking into court butteries?[200]
Sneakup.
Oh, oh, oh…
Sarpego.
Vae misero.[201]
Toby.
Hold dear mother.
Lady Ticket.
Sweet Mrs. Pyannet
hold.
Pyannet.
Art thou there,
daughter of an intelligencer,[202] and
strumpet to a bearward?[203]
Lady Ticket.
Now Beauty bless me,
was not thy mother a notorious tripe-wife, and thy father a profest
hare-finder? Gip you flirt.
Pyannet.
How now Madame
Tiffany![204] Will none but my cock serve to tread[205]
you? Give me my jewels thou harlot.
Toby.
Mother…Pray mother…
Pyannet.
Bestow steeping thy
skin in perfumes to kill the stink of thy paintings, and rotten inwards to
catch coxcombs.
Toby.
Dear mother.
Pyannet.
But thou shalt not
cozen and cuckqueane me.
Toby.
Sweet mother…
Sarpego.
Lupus in fabula.[206] The Devil’s in the woman’s tongue.
Pyannet.
A whip on her; rotten
eggs and kennel dirt on her silken whoreship.
Sarpego.
Nil tam difficile.[207] Nothing can lay her.
Lady Ticket.
Nay, let the country
gentlewoman be mad and rave on; she knows I know my country gentlewoman had a
bastard before she was married.
Pyannet.
Did um so? The country gentlewoman was more chaste in a
bastard, than the court madam in her barrenness. You understand me; you have no green-sickness
there, yet, I hope, you have few christ’nings; you have tricks for that, have
you?
Toby.
Nay mother…
Pyannet.
You have your
kickshaws,[208]
your players marchpanes;[209] all
show and no meat.
Sarpego.
Nulli penetrabilis
astro.[210] She’ll hear no reason.
Lady Ticket.
Go to; you know how
in private you commended your horse-keeper to me.
Pyannet.
Well: and didst not
thou in as much privacy counsel me to contemn my husband, and use an Italian
trick that thou wouldst teach me?
Sarpego.
Quid faciendum?[211] Best stop their mouths?
Lady Ticket.
Out you bauble; you
trifle; you burden smock’d sweaty sluttery, that couldst love a fellow that
wore worsted stockings footed, and fed in cooks shops.
Sarpego.
Jaculis and Arcu.[212] Thunder and Lightning.
Pyannet.
Ods my precious…
Sneakup.
Nay dear, sweet wife…
Pyannet.
How’s this…
Toby.
Honey mother…
Pyannet.
Take this, and take
all. Why goody complexion, thou rammy
nastiness, thou knowest wherefore thy gentlewoman left thee; did she not swear
that she.
Toby.
For modesty’s sake.
Pyannet.
Had rather be at the
opening of a dead old man, than stand dressing thy head in a morning. Remember the Page that wore thy picture, and
the song which thou hadst in the praise of the male baboon.
Sarpego.
Tacete parvuli:[213] you
have said too much.
Toby.
Indeed Mother, you
will be sorry, when you know how much you mistake: some crafty fellow has put a
trick upon you.
Sneakup.
Methinks, sweet wife,
you should rather condole our loss with me.
Pyannet.
Hold your peace; do
not you prate.
Sarpego.
Redde te harpocratem:[214] the
man is wise enough.[215]
Toby.
‘Tis true: misfortune
hath wrought the jewels from my father.
Sneakup.
Indeed wife, truly,
truly, I am cony-catch’d.
Toby.
But for my father, or
this Lady’s wronging you, as I am your son, I assure you I have been an
eyewitness of all fair respect towards you.
Pyannet.
Is it even so?
Toby.
Mother, as I respect
your blessing, it is perfect truth.
Pyannet.
I humbly beseech you
sweet Madam, that my earnest and hearty sorrow may procure remission for my
inconsiderate and causeless invectives.
Let my confession seem satisfactory, and my contrition win indulgency to
my forgetful delinquency. I pray you let
us kiss and be friends.
Lady Ticket.
Alas sweet friend,
you and I have been inward a great while, and for us to fall out, and bare one
another’s secrets…
Pyannet.
Well, ’twas mine
error, not malice; but as for the procurer of it, if I pay not him in his own
coin…Mr. Footwell! I’ll show you a trick
or[216]
twenty. Come son, I have a wife for
thee.
Toby.
A wife! A wife, mother! O where is she?
Pyannet.
Aye, my boy, a wife.
Toby.
O ho.
Pyannet.
And such a one as
thou shalt bless me for procuring.
Courteously farewell, sweet Madam.
Where’s my fool? Come, leave the
court sirrah, and man your own wife into the City.
Exit
all.
ACT IV
Scene III
Enter
Josina and Crasy disguised as a dancer.
Josina.
But I prithee satisfy
me: what return they? Received they my
jewels?
Crasy.
Yes, they prov’d
acceptive.
Josina.
And what said
they? Can they affect?
Crasy.
Can they be
damn’d? Before I will undergo such a
business…fore Heaven I do as little differ from a pander! Only I have nothing for my pains, or else…
Josina.
Thou shalt have. Are thy news happy?
Crasy.
Are your own wishes
happy?
Josina.
Hold, spend this ten
pounds for me, Footwell.
Crasy.
Will you make me a
bawd? What, a bawd? And yet In troth, what would not a man be for
your sake, that have such wit and such bounty!
I cannot refuse, but suffer your virtue to be exercis’d upon me.
Josina.
Now, prithee speak,
what’s their answer?
Crasy.
Why, I’ll tell you,
they are both your own.
Josina.
Both, Footwell: I
prithee, how?
Crasy.
Why, no more but
this; they are both yours; only you know, but one hand in a glove at once. But I had so much to do with one of them;
such a coil[217]
to draw him to it.
Josina.
Which, I
prithee? Sir Andrew?
Crasy.
Even he: he says he
understands that you affect a mountebank.[218] Sure, your doctor is but some base bragging
rascal.
Josina.
Do you think so?
Crasy.
How should Sir Andrew
know else that he is come to embrace you tonight?
Josina.
Does he know that
too?
Crasy.
Yes, marry does he,
which the worthy Knight takes so contemptuously, suffering so base a rival,
that he vows, unless you beat him, bastinado[219] him
soundly when he comes, he will loath you most constantly.
Josina.
Enough, if I do not
make him an example to all the bawdy quacks in the Kingdom; say there is no
virtue in cudgels or bedstaves. I’ll
charm him for opening any more secrets of mine, I’ll warrant him. And so write to Sir Andrew.
Crasy.
Well said, Mistress,
be resolute. I mean to help you myself.
Josina.
I’ll cast about for
weapons instantly.
Exit
Josina.
Crasy.
Yes, I will write to
Sir Andrew, doubtless that which he shall have small cause to thank me
for. I will write for him to come in the
habit of this doctor.
Exit
Crasy.
ACT IV
Scene IV
Enter
Linsy-Wolsey and Crack, with a lute[220]
etc.[221]
Linsy-Wolsey.
She’s gone, she’s
gone: was ever man so cheated?
Threescore pounds for a ring; and the ring gone too for which I paid
it. A months diet and lodging, besides
the charge of physic and attendance.
Five pounds in dole bread, would have serv’d my house a twelve
month. I am undone; broke, bankrupt: but
the rogue shalt smart for all, now I have caught thee.
Crack.
Mercy, dear Sir,
mercy.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Were you making up
your pack to be gone too?
Crack.
Nothing but my own,
Sir: my lute, and a few music books.
Linsy-Wolsey.
You and your mistress
have made sweet music of me. Therefore,
sirrah,[222]
quickly…[to servant offstage] Are the beadles[223] gone
for?
Servant. [within]
Yes Sir.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Therefore quickly, I
say, as you were an actor in the cozenage, bring her to light, or…
Crack.
She’s light enough
herself: but a very innocent I, Sir.[224] She has cozen’d me of half a years service,
wrought me off o’my legs, strain’d my back, crack’d my voice, done me to my
utter undoing; and can you think I knew of her running away?
Linsy-Wolsey.
I’ll make you sing
another song, sirrah. [to servant]
Are the beadles come?
Crack.
Any song, Sir, or as
many as you please.
He
sings a song.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Pretty, I
confess. But that’s not the song must do
it; nor can any song please me at this time.
[to servant] Are the beadles come?
Servant. [within]
Yes, Sir, they are
here.
Crack.
Dear Sir, let ‘em
forbear a little. And if I cannot please
you with a song, commit me to their fury.
Linsy-Wolsey.
‘Tis but to trifle[225] time:
yet sing before you suffer. [Crack sings another song] Worse than t’other this; you shall sing in
another place, to the whip, to the whip, Sir?
Bring in the beadles, and away with him to Bridewell.[226]
Crack.
Yet once more, good Sir,
try me this last time, and but promise me, if I can sing a song that you shall
like, to forgive and free me.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Sing a song that I
shall like, and I will free thee.
Crack [sings
again.]
Then shall a present
course be found
For M. Wolsey’s threescore
pound;
And his ring,
And
the thing
That has given him
the slip…
Linsy-Wolsey.
Aye marry, that I
like well.
Crack.
Then I have ’scap’d
the whip.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Think you so, Sir?
Crack.
Yes: for you like the
song well, you say, and I am free; I hope you make good your noble city word,
Sir.
Linsy-Wolsey.
City words use not to
pass for songs, Sir: make you good the words of your song, Sir, and I shall
make my word good, Sir. Come away
beadles.
Crack.
O stay, Sir, I
beseech you, and let your justice fall on the right shoulders. I’ll confess all.
Linsy-Wolsey.
O will you so, Sir.
Crack.
‘Tis most true, Sir,
that gentlewoman whom I call’d Mistress, is a most cunning whore, and a
notorious cheat.
Linsy-Wolsey.
These are good words
indeed!
Crack.
She came to your
house with four men in liveries;[227] they
were all but hired panders.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Yes, and divers
trunks of supposed treasure, which I find to be bags of nails, and other old
iron, and all the rings and stones she boasted in her will are but curtain
rings and brickbats.[228]
Crack.
Your own covetousness
cozen’d you, Sir: but if I now bring you not where you shall see how she is
since bestowed, and that you find not hearty cause to rejoice that you were
cozen’d of her, let me be whipp’d to death, Sir.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Well, come along,
Sir: but I will have a guard upon you.
Crack.
What guard you
please, Sir, so my poor skin may ’scape the lash-guards.
Exit
all.
ACT V
Enter
Crasy, Tryman, Pyannet and Toby.
Tryman [to Crasy]
O thou varlet, thou unconscionable unbeliever, ungodly
miscreant! Hast thou cozen’d my easy
credulity? And wouldst have undone and
married me, like a cony-catching companion as thou art? Didst not thou tell me thou hadst moderate
means of life, friends of fashion, and civil reputation? And now this virtuous, religious gentlewoman
tells me thou art an arrant skipjack.
Pyannet.
Nay, and has not a hole to put thy head in, but upon my
courtesy.
Tryman.
But I thank this matron’s worship, her pity will not permit
my easy nature to suffer under thy cozenage: but bestows her generous son and
heir here upon me.
Pyannet.
A gentleman of another sphere, another rank than you are
sirrah; that shall have three hundred a year in esse, and five in posse.[229]
Tryman.
That is acquainted with young lords; has had the honour to
make a hunting match.
Toby.
Aye, and a challenge to ride the wild goose chase.
Tryman.
That hath made ladies posies for cheese trenchers.
Toby.
And play’d with countesses at shuttlecock.
Tryman.
And to this elegant spirit and choice hope am I, and my
fortunes contracted.
Crasy.
How! Contracted.
Tryman.
Yes, Sir, contracted.
Look you, I dare seal it before your face.
Tryman
kisses Toby.
Crasy.
Are you so?
Toby.
She is mine, Sir, mine, Sir.
Do you mark, I dare likewise seal it, Sir.
Toby
kisses Tryman.
Crasy.
Is there honesty in this dealing?
Pyannet.
Yes, Sir, is there not profit in this dealing?
Crasy.
‘Tis very well. If
there be no law upon words, oaths and pre-contracts, and witness. If a man may spend a hundred angels upon a
widow, have her affied before witness, and then have his nose wip’d of
her. Why, ‘tis very well.
Tryman
takes Pyannet and Toby aside.
Tryman.
In troth dear heart, and sweet mother in expectation, to
speak equally, there have some words of course passed betwixt us, which may
seem to impart some engagement. Surely I
have been too liberal of some speech of advantage. Truly it would not be amiss, considering his
expense and interest, to fall to some slight composition.[230] Some hundred pounds would make the poor knave
do anything.
Toby.
Mother, let’s be wise.
Let’s be wise, mother. Fetch a
hundred pieces presently: that even upon his first consent, he may be satisfy’d
and silenc’d.
Tryman.
For if he chance but to be delay’d till he ask counsel,
then…
Pyannet.
Mum.[231] A word to the wise.
Exit
Pyannet.
Crasy.
Nay, I hope as long as I am a subject, I shall have law: I
doubt not but I shall have law.
Tryman.
Come, Sir, you shall not deservedly exclaim of my neglecting
you. For our sometimes love, I have
procured you a hundred pounds.
Crasy.
To disclaim my right in you, I’ll take’t. Here’s my hand, I’ll take it.
Toby.
Pox, how my mother stays.
Crasy.
Scorn my poverty!
Come, where is’t? Because I have
not the muck of the world. Come, the
money.
Enter
Pyannet.
Pyannet.
Here, Sir, upon this consideration, that you disclaim and
renounce all interest…
Crasy.
Yes most freely.
Pyannet.
In this gentlewoman; and do vow never to pretend future
claim to her.
Crasy.
I do, marry…
Toby.
Nay, no marries, Sir, you have receiv’d the money. You shall make no more marries here. Come my betrothed spouse, bid a fice[232]
for him, say black’s thine eye who dares.
Mother I’ll be married tonight, and to bed presently.
Pyannet.
This night, son; ‘tis very late.
Toby.
Never too late to be wise.
I hope I am your son, and must bear a brain.
Pyannet.
Indeed, he that deals with woman must take occasion by the
fore lock. Away.
Exit
Pyannet, Toby and Tryman.
Crasy.
Why! I am weary of money now: I have gotten more in a weeks
cozenage, than in all my days of honesty.
What an easy cool thing it is to be a rich knave! Gramercy punk. A witty wench is an excellent help at a dead
lift. But in despite of the justice that
provok’d me, my conscience a little turns at these brain-tricks. But they have all been ungrateful:
ungrateful! ‘Tis a sin that should have
no mercy: ‘tis the plague-spot: who has it should not live.
If Holy wisdom from the thundring cloud
Had given more laws than ten,[233]
this had ensu’d:
Avoid, O man, mans shame, Ingratitude.
For my poor lot, I could have sweetly slept
In quiet want, with resolute content,
Had not defect of wit, uncourteous scorn
Been thrust upon me.
Now they all shall feel,
When honest men revenge, their whips are steel.
My courtiers are the next that I must exercise upon. This night my wife expects the embraces of
one of them at least, if this hasty marriage call her not from her
chamber. But she, being a right woman,
may prevent that with a feigned[234]
sickness, or so. Let me remember, I
wrote to Rufflit to come like her Doctor Pulse-feel, to minister to her. This will jump right with a counterfeit
sickness: it may, perhaps, break a urinal about his coxcomb.
Music.
How now! O perceive
this great wedding goes forward.
Music. Torches.
Enter Sarpego. Toby and
Tryman. Sneakup and Lady Ticket,
Pyannet. Josina in night attire,
Bridget. They pass as to the wedding
with rosemary. Crasy whispers to
Josina. She takes leave of her mother,
seeming to complain of being sick; and so returns with Bridget.
Then enter Rufflit dressed like a
doctor.
Crasy.
So, this falls out pat.
She is no sooner gone sick to her chamber, but here comes her physician,
to cover and recover her in a trice.
Rufflit.
Hist, Footwell, Footwell.
Crasy.
Seigneur[235]
Rufflit; I am a fool if I took you not for a physician.
Rufflit.
She wrote to me, that I should come in this habit.
Crasy.
Right, Sir, to avoid suspect: for which cause she has
counterfeited herself sick, and lies longing and languishing till you minister
to her.
Rufflit.
And am I come pat? Am
I come i’the nick?
Crasy.
Your fortune sings in the right clef,[236]
Sir, a wench as tender as a city pullet.[237]
Rufflit.
But not so rotten.
Crasy.
Oh, Sir, health it self, a very restorative. Will you in?
The way lies open before you.
Rufflit.
Hold, Footwell, tell that till I return [gives him money]
from branching the most merited cuckold Crasy.
Poor snake, that I must force thee to cast thy skin. And he were not a citizen I could pity him:
he is undone forever. Methinks I see him
already make earnest suit, to wear a red cap, and a blue gown, comely to carry
a staff-torch before my Lord Mayor upon Hallowe’en[238]
night. Watch Footwell, I mount.
Exit
Rufflit.
Crasy.
But now, if the agitation of my brains should work through
my brows. If my wife’s pitiful hand
should fall to composition with my doctors pate, and my deceit be discovered
before the bastinado had given charge to his shoulders, were not my forehead in
apparent danger. ‘Tis done in three minutes.
Death, my courtier has a sanguine complexion: he is like a cock sparrow,[239]
chit, chit, and away. Heart o’man! And I should be blown up in mine own mine
now! Ha.
Rufflit. [within]
Hold Mrs. Crasy. Dear
Bridget. Help Footwell!
Crasy.
Ho the hubbubs rais’d, and my fear’s vanish’d.
Enter
Josina and Bridget beating Rufflit.
Crasy
takes Bridget’s cudgel, and lay’s on.
Josina.
Out you pisspot-caster!
Bridget.
You suppository!
Josina.
You glister-pipe,[240]
think’st to dishonour[241]
me?
Rufflit.
Hold, dear Lady…I am…
Josina.
A stinking saucy rascal thou art, take this remembrance.
Exit
Josina and Bridget.
Crasy.
Hold, sweet Mistress.
Rufflit.
Oh I thank you, good Mr. Footwell.
Crasy.
Oh, it is not much worth verily.
Rufflit.
Oh, but ‘tis, Sir.
He
draws his sword from under his gown.
Crasy
closes with and disarms him.
Crasy.
Rogue. Rogue.[242]
Rufflit.
Nay prithee sweet rascal, pox on you, I did not mean to hurt
you, my honest vagabond, tell me, tell me: come, who was’t put this trick upon
me? Thou art a precious villain: come,
whose device was it? Whose plot? At whose suit was I cudgel’d? Who made me feign myself a physician, till I
must be forc’d to go to the surgeon? And
dare’st tell me?
Crasy.
Nay, then I will tell you.
Dare! Why ’twas your friend and
rival, Sir Andrew Ticket.
Rufflit.
Ticket?
Crasy.
Even he, Sir. His
gold hir’d me to gull[243]
you. And this brain procur’d your
beating. Yes faith, Sir, envy, bribes,
and wit have wrong upon you.
Rufflit.
Well, if I revenge not…
Crasy.
But how, Sir?
Rufflit.
Aye, afore Heaven, that’s well thought on. Give me but the means, and I will not only
forgive, but reward thee richly.
Crasy.
Come faith, because I would have both your shoulders go in
one livery, I must disclose. Why, Sir,
knavery is restorative to me, as spiders to monkeys. The poison of wit feeds me.
Enter
Ticket and a boy with a torch.
Look you, Sir, he’s come.
Stand close, take this cudgel, grasp it strongly, stretch your sinews
lustily; and when you see him hang by the middle in a rope, let your fist fall
thick, and your cudgel nimbly.
Rufflit.
And soundly. My
ambitious blows shall strive which shall go foremost.
Crasy.
Good, Sir.
Rufflit.
Draw him up but half way.
Crasy.
So, Sir, I must up to receive.
Exit
Crasy.
Rufflit.
Do so: I shall be so reveng’d now! He had been better ha’been taken in bed with
another man’s wife, than have prevented me thus.
Ticket. [to boy]
Vanish, sirrah, with the light. This I am sure is the window which her
letters call’d me to.
Exit
boy.
Rufflit. [aside]
I would you would begin once, that I might be at work. I do not love to stand idle in the cold thus.
Ticket.
Hist, Footwell, Footwell.
Crasy. [above]
Here, Sir, here. O I watch’d to do you a good turn. Will you mount, Sir?
Ticket.
I will mount, remount, and surmount. I wonder that there is not a solemn statute
made, that no citizen should marry a handsome woman; or if he did, not to lie
with her. For, and ’twere not for
gallants help, they would beget nothing but fools.
Crasy
lets down a rope.
Crasy.
Right Sir, right Sir.
Take the rope, and fasten it about your middle, Sir.
Ticket.
Why, that’s Crasy: a very coxcomb.
Crasy.
An ass, an ass,
Ticket.
A mere citizen.
Were’t not a shame his wife should be honest? Or is’t not pity that my own man should
wholly enjoy a rare excellent proper woman, when a whole corporation scarce
affords two of them?
Crasy.
Most true, Sir. Now
mount, Sir. I pluck courageously. Pray Hercules[244]
my strength fail me not.
Rufflit. [aside]
Up Sir, up Sir.
Rufflit
cudgels Ticket.
Ticket.
Pox, and pain! Hold,
Doctor!
Rufflit.
Save you, Sir.
Ticket.
I am most sensible of your salutation. Pluck Footwell.
Crasy.
Alas the cord sticks, Sir; I’ll call some help, Sir.
Crasy
comes down.
Ticket.
Death and devils!
Rufflit.
Fists and cudgels!
Ticket.
Heart, lungs, lights!
Rufflit.
Arms, shoulders, sides!
Ticket.
Help, help, help!
Enter
Crasy.
Crasy.
Passion of Heaven, Doctor: I’ll doctor you away.
Exit
Rufflit.
Ticket.
Redeem me, dear Footwell.
Crasy.
Yes, Sir, I come for the same purpose. Alas, Sir, methinks I even feel your
blows. Are you not sore, Sir?
Ticket.
Sore? Couldst thou
not pluck?
Crasy.
Sure I was planet-struck;[245]
the rope stuck in a slit, Sir.
Ticket.
A pox o’ the slit, say I.
Crasy.
Know you this mad doctor? Or do you owe any doctor anything?
Ticket.
I know him not; nor do I owe any doctor anything; I only owe
my barber-surgeon for a diet drink.
Crasy.
Speedily make up your face, Sir, here comes company: Mr.
Rufflit.
Enter
Rufflit in his own shape.
Rufflit.
Honest Footwell! How dost? Sir Andrew! Heartily how is’t?
He
hugs and shakes him.
Ticket.
As heartily as thou wilt: but not so hard I prithee.
Rufflit.
Why, what’s the matter?
Ticket.
I bruis’d my side e’en now against a forms edge.
Rufflit.
Spermaceti,[246]
Sir, is very good, or the fresh skin of a flayed[247]
cat.
Ticket.
Flayed cat?
Rufflit.
The flyblows[248]
of a dead dog, made into oil, and spread upon the kell[249]
of a measled hog.[250]
Music.
Crasy.
Hark gentlemen, the wedding comes, forget old bruises, and
put on sense of the lightest colour: for this house tonight vows to run giddy
with mirth and laughter.
Enter lights: Sarpego,
Toby, Tryman, Lady Ticket, Pyannet and Sneakup.
Rufflit.
Joy, health, love, and children, to this happy union.
Ticket.
Unbruis’d bones and smooth foreheads to you both.
Pyannet.
What, shall no device, no mirth solemnize my sons
match? Go, Sneakup, call down our
daughter. [exit Sneakup] In despite of sickness, mirth and joy shall
make this night healthful.
Tryman.
O mother, cold sobriety and modest melancholy becomes the
face of the matron; unedifying bawds are profane vanities.[251] Mirth is the fat of fools: only virtue is the
nourishment of purity and unsinning sincerity.
Pyannet.
By the leave of your wisdom daughter, we’ll take the wall of
your preciseness: for Mr. Sarpego has told me of a learned subject for a
ballet, which we shall see acted presently.
Tryman.
What is it, some heathenish play?
Sarpego.
No certes,[252]
but a very religious dialogue, full of nothing but moral conceits betwixt Lady
Luxury, a prodigal and a fool.
Tryman.
But who should act and personate these?
Sarpego.
Why in that lies the nobility of the device; it should be
done after the fashion of Italy by ourselves, only the plot premeditated to
what our aim must tend: marry, the speeches must be extempore.[253] Mrs. Bride would I have to play Dame Luxury,
and Mr. Footwell here the prodigal.
Pyannet.
And my husband, the fool.
Enter
Sneakup, Josina and Bridget.
Sneakup.
Aye, and’t please you wife.
Sarpego.
I’ll play the inductor, and then we are all fitted.
Tryman.
I pray you what is Lady Luxury? A woman regenerative?
Toby.
A whore, wife.
Sarpego.
In sincerity, not much better than a courtesan: a kind of
open creature.
Tryman.
And do you think me fit to represent an open creature? Saving your modesties, a whore. Can I play the strumpet, think ye?
Josina.
Trust me, Sister, as long as it is done in private, in ones
own house, and for some few selected gentlemen’s pleasure; methinks the part is
not altogether the displeasing’st.
Tryman.
Modesty defend me!
You think ‘tis nothing to play the strumpet?
Sarpego.
Why surely, religious Lady, it can be no disgrace to figure
out the part: for she that cannot play the strumpet, if she would, can claim no
great honour to be chaste.
Bridget.
How gravely and sententiously[254]
he speaks.
Toby.
Wife, it shall be so: it is my first injunction; you shall
do it, or disobey me. You must play it.
Tryman.
What, the whore, Sir?
Toby.
Aye, in jest: what hurt is’t? And mother, you shall excuse my father for
this once: for since my wife plays the whore, I’ll play the fool myself. Though, I know, you had rather see him do it,
you shall see for a need, I can make shift to perform it as well as he, as
naturally, and to the life.
Sarpego.
Exceeding well thought on, I pray you, Lady, approve of it.
Pyannet.
Let learning direct, I am not to prescribe to the Muses.
Toby.
Come, sweet heart, let’s in and tire us, and be ready to
enter presently.
Sarpego.
I fausto pede.[255]
Exit
Toby and Tryman.
Now for the prodigal.
Crasy.
O doubt not, Mr. Sarpego: for know, Sir, I am but a poor
serving creature, that lives upon expectation; Oh, Sir, my end must be
husks. Fear not my discharge of the
prodigal.
Exit Crasy.
Sarpego.
Nil nisi carmina desunt.[256]
To entertain ye, while we attire ourselves.
We want but now some music, or a song,
But think you have it.
Sit: we’ll not be long.
Exit
Sarpego.
Pyannet.
Seat you gallants.
Sit, sweet Sir Andrew, madam, and the rest, and we’ll imagine music, as
Mr. Sarpego bids us.
Enter
Linsy-Wolsey, and Crack with his lute.
How now! By what
misrule comes he to trouble us?
Linsy-Wolsey.
By your leave, gallants, I have brought you music.
Pyannet.
You, Sir, I know your purpose, and it is prevented: you come
after the marriage to forbid the bans.
Ha ha ha…you are short, Mr. Wolsey, you are short.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Good Mrs. Sneakup you are wide. I come to wish joy to the match, and to tell
you I rejoice that I missed a bridegroom’s part.
Pyannet.
How’s that?
Linsy-Wolsey.
You see I wear no willow, and am merry. All’s true you told me, boy?
Crack.
Yes by my detestation to Bridewell, Sir.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Sing, boy, that song; if I have any grief, it shall be all
vented in a Hymeneal[257]
song.
Ticket.
I have not known him in this humour.
Rufflit.
Sure ‘tis a merry madness for the loss of the widow.
Pyannet.
Since you come friendly, you are welcome, Mr. Wolsey. Pray sit with us, and hear your Hymeneal
song.
Crack. [sings]
Jo Hymen, Jo Hymen, Jo Hymen.
Pyannet.
This begins well.
Crack. [sings]
Was wont to be still the old song
At
high nuptial feasts
Where
the merry merry guests
With joy and good wishes did
throng:
But to this new wedding new notes do I bring,
To rail at thee Hymen, while sadly I sing.
Fie o Hymen, fie o Hymen, fie o Hymen,
What hands,
and what hearts dost thou knit?
A
widow that’s poor,
And
a very very whore,
To an heir
that wants nothing but wit.
Yet thus far, O Hymen, thy answer is made,
When his means are spent, they may live by her trade.
Pyannet.
He sings Hymen and Hymen, but methinks the song is
scandalous to the marriage.
Linsy-Wolsey.
Excuse me Lady, though I was cozen’d of the bride, I have no
such malice; ‘tis a song that the boy could sing by chance, and made by a
couple that were lately married in Crooked Lane.
Pyannet.
O, is it so, Sir? I
knew not what to make of it.
Flourish. Enter Sarpego, the prologue.[258]
Ticket.
Let us attend I pray: the prologue enters.
Sarpego.
Right country Dame, and courtly Lady,
Look for sense as small may be;
But, if wit deceive your thinkings,
Know our Muse disdains base shrinkings.
Hold a while your verdicts bridle,
Judge not yet our project idle,
Till at length the close may show it,
If we act the part of poet.
Enter Tryman and Toby. She loosely dress’d like a courtesan, a bowl
of wine in her hand. He in a fool’s cap
and coat.
Sarpego.
Speak lechery and folly, luxury I would say;
I need not prompt them; they know what they should say.
Tryman.
Out you base rascal, you muddy slave; thou hast married me,
and I will drink a health to thy cuckoldmaker.
She
drinks it off.
Toby. [aside]
’Sfoot I am afraid she’ll play the whore better than I shall
act the fool.
Tryman.
Thou under-hearted, dull-blooded pantaloon; thou whose
utmost honour is to be made so good a thing as a cuckold; thou son of a copy-holder,
and the pudding-pie woman’s daughter, dost thou think, dar’st thou but imagine,
that I shall ever vouchsafe to love to do anything, but laugh at thee? Hence you poultroon, thy voice sounds not so
far[259]
as thy breath stinks.
Kicks
him.
Toby.
Nay but, nay but do you hear wife? I do not very well like this; methinks you
play too much in earnest.
Tryman.
In earnest? Why
goodman fool, you coxcomb, you ninnihammer, you clotpold country gentleman,
thou dirty greediness.[260]
Pyannet.
Why, how now daughter?
Are you well? Methinks you
over-do it too much.
Tryman.
Thou dream’st my good husband, that thou hast married the
rich widow, ha ha ha.
Sarpego.
Now enters prodigality.
Enter Crasy in his own habit, all
hung with chains, jewels, bags of money etcetera.
Crasy.
When the truth is, dear brother, you have married the rank
whore. Ha ha ha!
Toby.
Sir!…who, brother Crasy?
Josina.
Sweet husband!
Pyannet.
Dear son!
Ticket and Rufflit.
Precious friend!
Linsy-Wolsey.
Neighbour Crasy!
Sarpego.
Dij boni! Domine
Crasy![261]
Crasy.
And how do you wife?
When comes your Doctor Pulse-feel?
But a kiss and so forth? And
would not one of these free gallants, these proper youths, have serv’d the
turn? I pray, pardon mine incivility,
mother; I was bold to retain mine own jewels.
Ha’you not forgot your singles and your doubles, your fallings back, and
your turnings up wife?
Josina.
Why i’faith, dear heart, dost think me so simple, that I did
not know thee all the while? Alas man, I
did but counterfeit, as you did to maintain the jest; kiss me sweet duck…only
to maintain the jest i’faith.
Crasy.
Yes, yes, yes, we are friends. I heartily thank these kind gentlemen for
their loves to you, yes faith, heartily: I am better by it five hundred at
least. Be not you jealous Madam, they
had nothing for it, not a bit by this light.
Rufflit.
Death o’my fortune!
That was my gold.
Ticket.
Plague of a villain, that was my jewel.
Crasy.
True gentlemen; and your bounty likewise lies in this bag.
Ticket.[262]
Sir, we sent these things to your wife.
Crasy.
I thank you for it; we have but one capacity in the law, you
know: what’s her’s must be mine. I know
thou wouldst have it so, sweet heart. I
am only sorry, gentlemen, that you were so well favouredly beaten. That the fool citizen, the ass citizen, the
cuckold citizen should procure such a sound swaddling to your wise, valiant and
substantial shoulders. Is’t not a sore
matter? But rest, salves and warm oils
may in time recover it. How do you, kind
mother? Gentlemen, if any of you want
money, gentlemen, here stands a city wit that has it. I have it, if you want any: speak, I have it,
and will keep it. How does your costard,[263]
Sir? A pox on’th’slit, Sir. Belov’d of Phoebus, Minion of the Muses, dear
water bailey of Helicon, be not proud of your preferment, though you are his
Highness tutor. Mother, I take the
restoring of my rich jewels very kindly.
O my kind Brother, you have got the rich widow; and you have born a
brain Mother. Your hundred pounds,
Brother, was most thriftily and opportunely bestow’d. I could ha’procur’d her to you at an easier
rate, Mother. I am only sorry for you
Mr. Wolsey, that you had her not: because you very honourably releas’d me of
your bond before it was due; and are in shrewd danger to be laugh’d at among
your neighbours. How does good Mr.
Crasy, the Prince’s Jeweller? Mother,
did not my father look too wise for a citizen?
How dost honest punk? I am as
much beholden to thee, as to the rest o’them.
Pyannet.
My son and my heir is utterly undone.
Toby.
O! I am quite cast
away.
Crasy.
O no, you shall be no loser by me; you shall be a gainer by
me Brother: get wit Brother, mark you, wit.
Good faith, I pity the poor citizen, he has no wit; a handsome young
fellow, with a pretty beard, and a proper bodied woman to his wife, and cannot
bear a brain!
Tryman.
Why dost hear, modestly mumping[264]
Mother-in-law, with thy French hood, gold chain, and flaggon bracelets, advance
thy snout. If the fool thy son, the
idiot my husband here, have but as much brains as a battledore,[265]
he may make a fair revenue of me: has he not a place at court? Can he not lodge me there, and prove
weak-sighted, thick of hearing, sleepy after dinner, and snort when others
entertain and court me? Can he not
survey the hangings, read Cupid’s conybery, the park of pleasure, Christian
love letters, or some other pamphlet, or feign some errand into the town,
whilst his brows are turning into gold?
Pyannet.
O impudence beyond woman’s apprehension! Son Crasy we have all wrong’d thee, thou
know’st it; thou hast reveng’d it, we feel it; only do not undo my heir, save
him, bring him but off o’this match with any loss.
Crasy.
Why Mother, is your son grown such a saucy knave, as he
thinks scorn to be a cuckold? I cannot
clear him; in truth I cannot: he has paid for her deeply, and ‘tis pity they
should be parted, yes faith ist.
Pyannet.
Woman, we do pray thee, we do beseech thee, even upon our
knees [Pyannet and Toby kneel] have pity on the house of the Sneakups:
quit my son, relinquish thy right, make frustrate this marriage, and look thee,
before these able witnesses, we heartily forgive all, and forget: and withal,
freely bestow this chain upon thee…
Pulls off
her chain and gives it.
Tryman.
I do receive it.
Toby.
She does receive it, bear witness all, she does receive it.
Tryman.
Marry on this condition…
Toby.
No, I’ll no more marries nor conditions, you have receiv’d
it.
Pyannet.
Aye, you must make frustrate the marriage; for look you, you
have receiv’d it.
Tryman.
I will, and freely do; only the condition I would have made
is this, that if you intend longer to be master of your husband, now that you
have seen how well it became me, you will henceforward do as I do …look you,
wear breeches.
Pulls
the coats up, and shows the breeches.
Pyannet.
O horrible!
Toby.
How! Do you wear
breeches?
Tryman.
Yes, Sir, breeches; and as good lining and stuffing in them,
I hope, as yours have, though they be of satin.
Toby.
I’ll feel that: ’sfoot Mother this is a man. Come and feel else.
Tryman.
A young one, Sir. [puts off his headdress] See
Master, your poor servant Jeremy, if he has perform’d his part, desires to be
admitted into the livery of wit, and to wear this chain as his ensign of
freedom.
All.
Jeremy!
Toby.
Jeremy! O Jeremy!
Thou wer’t ever too hard for…
Jeremy.
Except at spoonmeat,[266]
Sir.
Josina.
Jeremy!
Jeremy.
Yes, Mistress: indeed forsooth.
Crasy.
Well, give me thy hand: I will love thee as long as there is
swiftness in meditation, smoothness in flattery, or constancy in malice.
Pyannet.
And for the cure that he has wrought on me,
I will applaud his wit, and bless the light
It gave me to discover my foul error:
Which by his demonstration show’d so monstrous,
That I must loath myself, till I be purg’d.
Sir, by your fair forgiveness, which I kneel for … [kneels]
Sneakup.
Heaven make me thankful: Wife I have no words
To show how I rejoice: rise, let me kiss thee… [Pyannet
stands and they kiss]
Sarpego.
Tempora mutantur.[267] The town’s ours again.
Only, to fill the scene with joy, may we
Conjoin sweet maid, in the catastrophe.
Bridget.
Would you, that have taught Greek, and whip’d great boys,
come back to your horn-book, and let down your gaskins[268]
to me, that would, if I had you, be more tyrannous than any pedant that ever
reign’d since the days of Dionysius?
Besides here is my choice, with my master and mistresses leave, Jeremy’s
brother.
Crasy.
But is he seriously thy brother?
Jeremy.
Yes, and no more a pimp, Sir, than I am a wench.
Crasy.
Well, Mr. Sarpego, I’ll help you to a fitter match, and,
Crack, I will give thee something with her: take the security of my hand.
Crack.
I only desire to be secure from this man’s fury, and so
consequently from Bridewell.
Crasy.
He shall have nothing to say to thee.
Linsy-Wolsey.
I will have nothing to say to man, woman, or child, while I
live, again.
Sarpego.
Fortuna nihil aufert sapienti:[269]
fools and fiddlers are her favourites.
Crasy.
Let us make this a merry night.
Think of no losses, Sirs, you shall have none;
My honest care being but to keep mine own.
What, by my slights, I got more than my due,
I timely will restore again to you.
All.
Thanks kind Mr. Crasy, thanks.
Sarpego.
Gratias vel ingentes Domine Crasy.[270]
Epilogue.
Sarpego.
Now let me scholasticwise
For us all
epiloguise:
If these slender
scenes of wit
Are receiv’d, as they
were writ,
For your mirth, and
no offence,
Let your grace quit
our suspense
With applaus’d
catastrophe.
I am short, w’ye, as
you see,
There’s a figure,
which pray note ye,
Sic valete valetote.[271]
Gratias redo
cuicunque.[272]
Valetote iterumque.[273]
The End.
[1] Probably spoken by Sarpego the pedant.
[2] ‘As many as come hither, good day!’ This line signals both the opening and
closing of the prologue. That it appears
in the middle of the prologue suggests that there are two prologues, one for
the original play and the second for a revival of the play in which the speaker
refers to how the play has been received on previous occasions.
[3] ‘without rod or ferula’
[4] ‘to teach the eagle to fly, or the dolphin to swim’
[5] ‘an ass among apes’
[6] A slave who accompanied children to school.
[7] An under teacher.
[8] ‘to educate, nor to correct’
[9] Trope – a word or expression used in a figurative
sense.
[10] Brome is referring to the writer Ben Jonson whom he
served as a servant. For more see
Introduction.
[11] ie. Magnifying glass. Sarpego is asking the audience to indulge him
to make him better and bigger than he is.
This would be particularly funny if a child played the role.
[12] Crasy – perhaps meaning crazy as Crasy is viewed as
mad because of his honest nature.
[13] Rufflit – a ruffler was one of a class of vagabonds
in the sixteenth century, although this is a seventeenth century play this may
be something that Brome is alluding to, this image undermines the character
that Rufflit puts forward. The term also
refers to a proud, arrogant man which very much fits the character. Rufflit could also be a pun on the word ruff
which was a type of collar therefore emphasising Rufflit as a gallant of
fashion. See Josina’s reference Act Four
scene 1, line 2937
[14] Linsy-Wolsey – name refers to the characters trade
in linen and wool.
[15] Trencher – a wooden board on which food was
served. A contemporary story that links
food and money is that in 1627, as a result of money problems and attempting to
save money, the Lord Chamberlain revived an ancient order that meat should be
eaten on trenchers made of bread so that nothing was wasted and food was
provided for the poor. (Sharpe, ‘The image of virtue’ p.237)
[16] Lees - the sediment from an alcoholic drink.
[17] Greene’s groats-worth of wit bought with a
million of repentance is an autobiographical text by Robert Greene. For more see Sources section of the
Introduction.
[18] ’postle spoon – meaning Apostle spoon, an old
fashioned silver spoon the handles of which ended in figures of the Apostles.
[19] Damask – a reversible fabric usually silk or linen
with a pattern woven into it.
[20] Salt is related to evil or bad luck. To spill salt is ill-omened depending on who
spilt the salt and whom it fell towards.
However, salt is also used as a protection against evil in some
instances, hence the throwing of salt over the shoulder once it has been
spilled.
[21] Audituall – research has not found a direct meaning
for this word, although the archaic sense of the word ‘audit’ was a
hearing. It seems that Sarpego is
defying the part of his body which hears, therefore as he says later, his ears.
[22] Rout – an archaic word meaning a large party or
social gathering, or a noisy rabble.
[23] Sconce – the head or skull.
[24] This passage is an interesting rhyme and one that
seems familiar, although research has not found a match in any other known
Renaissance work. It is possible though
that Brome is referencing another text that is now lost. Nonce – the sentence ‘for the nonce’ means
for the particular purpose and is often said with information, as Sarpego gives
here.
[25] To be carted was to be punished by being carried in
a cart, the term ‘carted bawds’ refers to punished brothel keepers or
prostitutes.
[26] Demosthenes was one of the greatest Greek orators
and statesmen, 384-322 B.C.
[27] Grazier – a person who feeds cattle for the market.
[28] This line reads ‘Your prizes writ in strange
characters’ in the transcript. I changed
this to ‘prices’ because it makes greater sense in the context of the
paragraph.
[29] Merchants wax – I can only assume that Pyannet is
referring to some form of early shop security system as research into this has
revealed nothing.
[30] Concupiscence – strong desire, especially sexual
desire.
[31] Devoir – from the Old French meaning compliments or
respects.
[32] Ferreter – someone who ferrets, hunts after,
searches, or rummages.
[33] I have left these spellings as they appear in the
transcript, although they are not the modern or correct spellings, because they
are names.
[34] A farewell greeting, giving permission to go for a
second time.
[35] Piety is an early form of pity, rather than changing
this I have left it to have both the old meaning of pity and the present
meaning of piety also.
[36] ‘profest’ in transcript. Professed and profest mean the same thing, I
have changed this to be consistent with the modern spelling throughout the
text.
[37] Bacchus was the god of wine, the blood of Bacchus is
wine and, here, used as an oath of exclamamtion.
[38] Synonima – meaning ‘synonym’ a word that means the
same, or nearly the same, as another word.
[39] Fecundity – intellectual fruitfulness or creativity.
[40] Areopagus was Mars’ hill at Athens where a court
sat, therefore an Areopagite is a member of the court.
[41] ‘I carry all my things with me’.
[42] This passage, while appearing to be polite, is
metaphorically insulting to Crasy by referring to sexual images. Cornu copia in this sense is Latin for plenty
of horn rather than Horn of Plenty (Cornucopia). Lanthorn is also part of this metaphor, while
meaning lantern Sarpego makes the suggestion that Crasy’s genitalia should show
him the way. Lanthorne in transcript.
[43] Along the lines of ‘have a happy life’
[44] The fibrous membrane covering the external surface
of the skull. In other words Toby had a
soft head.
[45] In the transcript this sentence reads ‘Desire
little; cover little; no not your own: And you shall have enough.’
[46] Angel – an Old English gold coin originally called
the Angel-Noble as it had the picture of Archangel Michael and the Dragon on
it.
[47] Touseth – towseth in transcript. Have changed to ‘touseth’ because I think
that Rufflit means to tousle other men’s sheets meaning to tangle and rumple
them.
[48] Contemn – to treat with contempt or scorn.
[49] Loth in the transcript and ‘loth’ is also a correct
modern variant spelling of ‘loath’.
[50] Jeremy makes references to Josina’s sexuality, which
she could use to make money through prostitution.
[51] Judges 15:3-6 tells the story of Samson taking
revenge on the Philistines because his wife was given to his friend. Samson caught 300 foxes, tied them together
in pairs by their tails and then fastened a torch to each pair of tails. The foxes were let loose in the Philistines
corn and destroyed the corn, vineyards and olive groves.
[52] In modern English this means something that is
outstandingly bad, however, it’s archaic meaning is distinguished and eminent –
the meaning that Brome gives the word here.
[53] Cicero was a Roman orator and writer, 106-43 B.C.
[54] Amoene - pleasant or delightful, used especially of
places.
[55] ‘O, be good, and kind to your family. Go with lucky foot.’
[56] Water Bailiff – An officer of customs who searched
vessels. ‘Water Bailey’ in transcript.
[57] Helicon is a hill in Boeotia sacred to Apollo and
the Muses.
[58] Munificence – generosity.
[59] Peripatetical means itinerant, and is a word
directly associated with Aristotle who taught philosophy while walking about
the Lyceum in ancient Athens.
[60] Parnassus - a mountain in Phocis sacred to Apollo
and the Muses.
[61] ‘With the tips of your lips’
[62] ‘juice and blood.’
[63] ‘be good in your life, and pure from crimes.’
[64] ‘Farewell poor rogue’
[65] Proclivity - meaing a tendency or inclination.
[66] Erudite - meaning having or showing extensive
scholarship, learned.
[67] Mavortian – warlike or a warrior. Mavors is the warlike god Mars.
[68] Optative – expressing choice.
[69] Mecaenas – a patron of Virgil and a great donor to
the arts. Using the term about someone
refers to their great generosity.
[70] ‘I am not asleep to everyone’
[71] ‘Alas misery is mine!’
[72] ‘Again and again farewell.’
[73] From the Latin depromo, meaning to take down,
produce, fetch out.
[74] Phisnomy in transcript. Physiognomy means a persons features or
characteristic expression, which fit this sentence and Crasy’s references.
[75] ‘Farewell.’
[76] Priscian - Latin name Priscianus Caesariensis, a
sixth century Latin grammarian.
[77] ‘Oh Alas!’
[78] ‘Away be off!’
[79] ‘’well, just look! Ah oh!’
[80] ‘eh! Hallo!’
[81] ‘Oh, the bad faith of gods and men!’
[82] Castalia is a spring on Mount Parnassus.
[83] Dives was sent to Hell thirsty (Luke 16:19-31).
[84] Ixion was a king of the Lapithae in Thessaly who was
bound to a perpetually revolving wheel in Tartanus.
[85] Tantalus was a son of Jupiter who offended the gods
and was tantalised in Hades.
[86] Sisyphus was a robber condemned in the lower world
to roll a stone uphill forever.
[87] Tinct – an obsolete word for tint.
[88] Galen (Claudius Galenus) ?130 - ?200 AD Greek physician, anatomist,
physiologist. Codified existing medical
knowledge and his authority continued into the Renaissance.
[89] Paracelsus, real name Theophrastus Bombastus von
Hohenheim 1493 – 1541, Swiss. Physician
and alchemist, pioneered the use of specific treatments for specific illnesses
based on observation and experience.
[90] Birlady – By Our Lady, a religious oath.
[91] Drabb in transcript, meaning a slatternly woman or a
whore.
[92] I have added all the stage directions in this
speech. It is an interesting speech as
Crasy acts out an internal discussion about his wife and reveals his confusion
over how he should respond. I have added
stage directions to try to aid visualisation and clarify the piece.
[93] Tanner – a person who tans skins and hides.
[94] Currier – a person who curries leather, beats it
vigorously, to finish it after it has been tanned.
[95] Pander – a person who acts as a go-between in sexual
liaisons.
[96] Punk – obsolete word meaning a prostitute or young
male homosexual.
[97] “He does not.
He’s an ass” in transcript, meaning ‘he who does not is an ass.’
[98] A sexton is employed as a caretaker of a church, who
is also employed to dig graves and ring bells.
[99] Hie – an archaic word meaning to hurry.
[100] Towle in transcript.
[101] ‘aud’ in transcript.
[102] ‘cloaths’ in the transcript, have chosen clothes
over cloths because the ‘oa’ creates the o in clothes.
[103] ‘distemperature’ in the transcript, have changed to
‘distemper’ because it means, in its archaic meaning, a disease or disorder
which fits Crasy’s meaning for the sentence.
[104] Conflux - or ‘confluence’ meaning a gathering
together.
[105] Sennight - an archaic word for week.
[106] Melancholly and choler are both ideas related to the
four bodily humours. Melancholy is black
bile and choler is yellow bile.
[107] ‘admirare’ in the transcript. Perhaps a mix of the English admire and the
Latin admirari. I have chosen the
English for the text because, although Latin would have been in keeping with
Sarpego’s character, the English makes the line flow better and they have the
same meaning – to wonder.
[108] Lower case ‘p’ in tanscript, have capitalised here
as the speaker is referring to God, usually referred to with capital letters.
[109] ‘O gods immortal!’
[110] ‘drave’ in transcript.
[111] ‘unfained’ in transcript, the meaning did not fit so
spelling has been altered.
[112] ‘In God’s name.’
[113] Knockers Hole – not a real place in Cornwall but
created with reference to Cornish tales: the Knockers were elfin creatures that
lived in mines hence ‘Knockers Hole’.
Since Tryman is a made-up person and what she puts in her will is
made-up, it seems fitting that the place she comes from is also made-up.
[114] ‘First of all’.
[115] ‘Good God!’
[116] ‘My will in this matter, etcetera’. This is a legal Latin phrase.
[117] ‘That brings no reward’.
[118] ‘I give great thanks’.
[119] Tryman is revealing to Crasy that she is a
prostitute.
[120] Freeman - a person who is not a slave, enjoys civil
and political liberties, a citizen.
[121] Pigwidgeon – ‘pigg-wiggen’ in transcript. Pigwidgeon is a word used for something small
or petty, probably a term of affection in this context.
[122] A reference to the characters and situations of
Jonson’s The Alchemist.
[123] ‘least’ in the transcript.
[124] High Holborn – prisoners leaving Newgate prison for
execution at Tyburn were forced to walk up Holborn Hill.
[125] After Catiline a Roman politician, 108-62 B.C., who
organised an unsuccessful conspiracy against Cicero. Catlinarian in the transcript.
[126] ‘He’s gone, run away, escaped’.
[127] ‘O misery is mine not gold, not silver!’
[128] Beatitude - Supreme blessedness or happiness
[129] Conjunction - an act of joining together, in this
context marriage.
[130] Faugh - an exclamation of disgust.
[131] ‘here lies’ – phrase written on tombstones.
[132] Phaeton was the son of Phoebus who almost destroyed
the world when he tried to ride his father’s chariot, the sun, across the
sky. The story is told in Ovid’s Metamorphoses.
[133] ‘the young Prince his Tutor’ in the transcript.
[134] ‘haviuor’ in transcript.
[135] ‘od’ in transcript.
[136] ‘what now?’
[137] ‘Whist’ in transcript, however ‘whisht’ is the
correct spelling for the archaic word meaning hush.
[138] The rituals associated with entering the Royal
court. Brome is mocking the changes made
by Charles I who introduced rules based on the Spanish court about who should
be where and how they should present themselves.
[139] Brome is mocking the financial problems that Charles
I experienced during his reign.
[140] Sneakup is referring to the low bow he will make
before the Prince.
[141]In light of the previous reference to The
Alchemist, this statement of Tryman’s name suggests another
comparison. However, Doll was also a
general term for women as ‘babe’ would be considered to be today.
[142] Mercers – dealers in textile fabrics.
[143] ‘Heark’ in transcript.
[144] Lief – meaning gladly or willingly.
[145] Piddled – one meaning of this term is to aimlessly
spend one’s time. This could be the
meaning that Crasy gives to this word here, perhaps implying that he may have
had sexual relations with Tryman, which throws his own self-righteousness and
honesty regarding sex into doubt.
[146] The Presence - a chamber in the court of the king.
[147] Quondam – meaning once, formerly.
[148] ‘lowsie’ in transcript.
[149] ‘But oh gods!
Whom do I see? Not Mr. Sneakup?!’
[150] Woodcock - a game bird.
[151] ‘O horrible wonder!’
[152] Crasy tells Sneakup not to let the real identity he
is concealing be seen in his face.
[153] Correspondency – an archaic term meaning the action
or fact of corresponding.
[154] ‘My former teacher!’
[155] ‘My lately pupil!’
[156] Ludovicus Vives, 1492 – 1540. A Spanish philosopher and writer summoned to
England in 1523 by Henry VIII to be tutor to Princess Mary. Among his works he wrote a treatise on education,
De Disciplinis in 1531
[157] Nuntius – a messenger.
[158] Traditionally the moon has been associated with
lunacy and insanity, this seems to be what Toby is referring to here, that his
father, influenced by the moon, has gone mad.
[159] Although I have been unable to find anything about
Delphos, there was a Delphic Oracle at Delphi that gave answers to the ancient
Greeks that they believed to hold great importance.
[160] ‘thus passes the glory of the earth’.
[161] Cony-caught – duped.
[162] Noddle – back of the head or neck. Crack is referring to ideas in Tryman’s head.
[163] This may be a satiric reference to Charles I, a
short man and, through his role as king, was well dressed.
[164] Exonerate - to clear from blame
[165] Extenuate – to represent an offence as less serious
than it actually is.
[166] Suspirations – an archaic word, meaning sighing.
[167] ‘Misery loves to have company’
[168] Although I have been unable to translate this line,
it is a line from Ovid’s Heroides.
[169] Matrona – Latin meaning a married woman or matron.
[170] Execration – to profess great abhorrence for
something.
[171] ‘Flowing like Deucalion’s flood’. Deucalion’s flood is from Greek
mythology. Zeus poured rain from heaven
and flooded Hellas so that men were destroyed.
[172] ‘And he will reign’
[173] Greek meaning ‘many are the thoughts of the
wise’. This phrase in the middle of
Sarpego’s speech highlights that his language skills are not as great as he
believes, coupling this phrase with a translation about raining cats and dogs!
[174] Lake of Lethe – the river of forgetfulness in Hades.
[175] An ironic prophecy!
Possibly an addition at some point post-1649.
[176] ‘She makes an elephant of a fly’.
[177] Gambrels – refers to a frame of wood that is used by
butchers to hang meat from; Sarpego is effectively saying that his new clothes
must return to the shop shelf.
[178] ‘some news’.
[179] Cinquepace – a dance
[180] Corantoes – a courante is an old dance in triple
quick time; there were dances from the sixteenth to the eighteenth century
based upon this.
[181] Jig – a light, brisk musical movement and also
moving with skips.
[182] Pavane – a slow processional court dance. All pavanes have the same simple steps.
[183] Galliard – a court dance from the sixteenth
century. Quick with simple steps and
often paired with pavanes.
[184]Canaries - a French dance from the Renaissance
period.
[185] Unshale – shale means to free from a shell. Unshale here seems to mean to free Pyannet
from her not knowing; to inform her.
[186] Cuckqueane – a female cuckold.
[187] Wittolly – meaning a willing cuckold.
[188] Tiffany – a sheer, fine, gauzy fabric.
[189] Crasy puns on the word ruff meaning both pinning her
collar and perhaps making allusion to Rufflit’s own name and what he intends
with Josina.
[190] ‘O, hat are you Sir?’ in transcript. ‘What’ makes much greater sense in the
sentence and in the context of Crasy’s reply.
[191] Poule – meaning to suck.
[192] Pill – meaning to suck.
[193] Phoebe is the moon goddess, Diana. Her brother is Phoebus or Apollo, the sun
god.
[194] This is a pun on the legal term estate tail. An estate tail, or estate in tail, is a
limited or abridged fee; an estate that is limited to certain heirs and from
which other heirs are excluded. In light
of Rufflit’s references to sex and his loins, the pun is also alluding to his
genitalia: all that Rufflit can pay with is sexual favours.
[195] Surphuled – a word that Brome created himself,
seeming to relate to female appearance and make-up (Andrews, pp. 95-96).
[196] Carcanetted – a carcanet is a collar or necklace,
usually gold or jewelled.
[197] In Greek mythology Danae was the mother of Perseus
by the god Zeus who came to her in prison – her ‘brass tower’.
[198] Ordinary – an ordinary was a meal provided at a
fixed rate and the Ordinary was the inn where this was provided.
[199] In the original transcript this sentence ends with a
question mark. I have changed this to a
full stop as the question mark does not make sense in the context of the rest
of the paragraph.
[200] Butteries - the room in a house or college where
food and liquor is kept.
[201] ‘Alas! Misery’.
[202] Intelligencer – archaic term for an informant or a
spy.
[203] Bearward – a keeper of bears.
[204] Madame Tiffany – this seems to be a term used to
insult a woman, making reference to the sheer tiffany fabric. Pyannet is saying that Lady Ticket is a
transparent character.
[205] Tread – the act of copulation in birds. This word makes sense especially as Pyannet
refers to Sneakup as her ‘cock’.
[206] ‘The wolf in the story’. A term such as ‘speak of the devil’.
[207] ‘Nothing so difficult.’
[208] Kickshaw – an archaic word for a small elaborate or
exotic delicacy.
[209] Marchpane – an archaic word for marzipan.
[210] ‘Not penetrable by any star’.
[211] ‘What to do?’
[212] ‘With missile and bow’.
[213] ‘Shut up children’.
[214] ‘Make yourself into Harpocrates’.
[215] This sentence reads ‘the man is wife enough’ in the
transcript but makes better sense if read as ‘wise’, supposing that the
transcript mistook the old style ‘s’ for an ‘f’.
[216] ‘of’ in transcript.
[217] Coil – effort.
Spelt ‘coyle’ in the transcript, which suggests both the idea of a coil,
and also being coy.
[218] Mountebank – a person who sold medicines by
unqualified doctors (quacks) in public places.
In this instance Crasy as Footwell is referring to himself as the
Doctor.
[219] Bastinado – to beat with a stick.
[220] Lute – an ancient musical instrument, shaped like a
pear with a fingerboard with frets and gut strings.
[221] The ‘etc.’ seems to mean Crack’s ‘pack’ that
Linsy-Wolsey refers to in line 3481.
[222] Sirrah – an archaic, contemptuous term used to
address a man or boy.
[223] Beadle – in the Church of England a beadle was a
minor official in the parish who kept order.
[224] See Editorial Procedures in the Introduction. I have retained the use of ‘I’ here although
‘aye’ would also have made sense. In
this instance, and in light of the following sentence, I believe that Crack is
making reference to himself.
[225] Trifle – in this instance meaning to waste time.
[226] An area of London to the west of St. Paul’s cathedral
situated between St. Paul’s and The Temple.
[227] Liveries – a livery is the identifying uniform or
badge of a member of a guild or a servant of a feudal lord.
[228] Brickbats – a piece of brick.
[229] Esse – in being.
Pyannet is saying that Toby will definitely have that amount.
in posse – term in law meaning possibility.
[230] Composition – a legal term referring to a settlement
agreed to with mutual consent.
[231] Mum – in this instance meaning silence.
[232] Fice - despite research I have not been able to find
a meaning for this word that fits the context of this sentence. It is possible that ‘fice’ should in fact be
‘sice’ but the meaning of this (a servant who looks after horses) does not fit
the sentence.
[233] The ten commandments given in Exodus 20:1-21
[234] ‘fained’ in transcript.
[235] ‘Seignor’ in transcript
[236] ‘cliff’ in the transcript.
[237] pullet – a young hen less than one year old.
[238] ‘Alhalloune’ in transcript meaning All Hallows Eve
or Hallowe’en.
[239] Cock sparrow – a male bird.
[240] Glister – an archaic word for glitter.
[241] ‘Dishonest’ in transcript.
[242] In the transcript it is unclear who speaks these
lines. I have given them to Crasy
because that seems to work better than having Rufflit speak them.
[243] Gull – an archaic term for cheating or tricking
someone.
[244] Hercules – a classical legend, famed for his great
strength and carrying out twelve immense labours.
[245] Planet-struck – an astrological term meaning to be
affected by a planet, usually in a malign way.
[246] ‘Parmasity’ in transcript. Spermaceti is a substance obtained from the sperm
whale, used in cosmetics and ointments.
[247] ‘flead’ in transcript.
[248] Flyblows – the eggs left by the blowfly on meat.
[249] Kell – the core or membranes.
[250] In transcript this sentence reads: ‘The fly-blowes
of a dead dog, made into oyl, and spread upon the kell of a meazell hog.’
[251] In transcript this sentence reads: ‘unedifying gawds
are Prophane vanities’.
[252] Certes – an archaic word meaning with certainty.
[253] Extempore – without planning or preparation.
[254] Sententiously – speech that is characterised by, or full
of, aphorisms.
[255] ‘With lucky feet’ or ‘break a leg’.
[256] ‘nothing, except a song, is lacking’
[257] Hymeneal – Hymen was the Greek and Roman god of
marriage, Hymeneal is anything of or relating to marriage, such as a song.
[258] ‘Prolocutor’ in transcript. I have changed this to ‘prologue’ because I
think Brome means prologue rather than the meaning of prolocutor (a person who
was the chairman of the lower house of clergy in the Church of England).
[259] ‘farre’ in transcript.
[260] Ninnihammer – idiot
Clotpold – a term meaning an idiot.
[261] ‘Good gods!
Master Crasy!’
[262] Although the speaker of these lines is Lady Ticket
in the transcript, I have given them to Sir Andrew Ticket because, to this
point and the audience’s knowledge, Lady Ticket has not sent anything to Josina
that Crasy has intercepted during the play.
[263] Costard – archaic slang for head.
[264] Mumping - sulking
[265] Battledore – an ancient racket game played with
rackets smaller than tennis rackets.
[266] Spoonmeat – food that is eaten with a spoon: liquid
food.
[267] ‘Times change’.
[268] ‘Gascoines’ in transcript. Gaskins – loose hose or breeches.
[269] ‘Fortune brings nothing to the wise’.
[270] ‘Many thanks, Master Crasy’.
[271] ‘So goodbye, goodbye’
[272] ‘I give thanks to everyone’.
[273] ‘Goodbye again’.