Act IV, Scene V — [2011]…

Act IV, Scene V — [2011]

[Enter] DOL [followed by] MAMMON.

DOL (in her fit of talking). For after Alexander’s death——[2012]

Mam. Good lady——

_Dol. That Perdiccas and Antigonus were slain, The two that stood, Seleuc’ and Ptolomy_——

Mam. Madam—

_Dol. Make up the two legs, and the fourth beast, That was Gog-north and Egypt-south: which after 5 Was called Gog-iron-leg and South-iron-leg_——

Mam. Lady——

_Dol. And then Gog-horned. So was Egypt, too: Then Egypt-clay-leg, and Gog-clay-leg_——

Mam. Sweet madam——

_Dol. And last Gog-dust, and Egypt-dust, which fall In the last link of the fourth chain. And these_ 10 Be stars in story, which none see, or look at——

Mam. What shall I do?

Dol. For, as he says, _except We call the rabbins, and the heathen Greeks_——

Mam. Dear lady——

Dol. _To come from Salem, and from Athens, And teach the people of Great Britain_——

[Enter FACE hastily, in his servant’s dress.]

Face. What’s the matter, sir? 15

Dol. To speak the tongue of Eber and Javan——

Mam. O, She’s in her fit.

Dol. We shall know nothing——

Face. Death, sir. We are undone!

Dol. _Where then a learned linguist Shall see the ancient us’d communion Of vowels and consonants_——

Face. My master will hear! 20

Dol. A wisdom, which Pythagoras held most high——

Mam. Sweet honourable lady!

Dol. _To comprise All sounds of voices, in few marks of letters._

Face. Nay, you must never hope to lay her now. (They all speak together.)

_Dol. And so we may arrive by Talmud skill,[2013] And profane Greek, to raise the building up 26 Of Helen’s house against the Ismaelite, King of Thogarma, and his habergions Brimstony, blue, and fiery; and the force Of king Abaddon, and the beast of Cittim: 30 Which rabbi David Kimchi, Onkelos, And Aben Ezra do interpret Rome._

Face. How did you put her into’t?

Mam. Alas, I talkt Of a fifth monarchy I would erect 34 With the philosopher’s stone, by chance, and she Falls on the other four straight.

Face. Out of Broughton! I told you so. ’Slid, stop her mouth.

Mam. Is’t best?

Face. She’ll never leave else. If the old man hear her, We are but faeces, ashes.

Sub. [within.] What’s to do there?

Face. O, we are lost! Now she hears him, she is quiet. 40

[Enter SUBTLE;] upon SUBTLE’s entry they disperse.

Mam. Where shall I hide me!

Sub. How! What sight is here? Close[2014] deeds of darkness, and that shun the light! Bring him again. Who is he? What, my son! O, I have liv’d too long.

Mam. Nay, good, dear father, There was no unchaste purpose.

Sub. Not? and flee me 45 When I come in?

Mam. That was my error.

Sub. Error? Guilt, guilt, my son; give it the right name. No marvel If I found check in our great work within, When such affairs as these were managing! 49

Mam. Why, have you so?

Sub. It has stood still this half hour: And all the rest of our less works gone back. Where is the instrument of wickedness, My lewd false drudge?

Mam. Nay, good sir, blame not him; Believe me, ’t was against his will or knowledge: 54 I saw her by chance.

Sub. Will you commit more sin, T’excuse a varlet?

Mam. By my hope, ’t is true, sir.

Sub. Nay, then I wonder less, if you, for whom The blessing was prepar’d, would so tempt heaven, And lose your fortunes.

Mam. Why, sir?

Sub. This will retard The work a month at least.

Mam. Why, if it do, 60 What remedy? But think it not, good father: Our purposes were honest.[2015]

Sub. As they were, So the reward will prove. (A great crack and noise within.)—How now! ay me! God and all saints be good to us.—— [Re-enter FACE.] What ’s that? 64

Face. O, sir, we are defeated! All the works Are flown in fumo,[2016] every glass is burst; Furnace and all rent down, as if a bolt Of thunder had been driven through the house. Retorts, receivers, pelicans,[2017] bolt heads,[2018] 69 All struck in shivers! (SUBTLE falls down as in a swoon.) Help, good sir! alas, Coldness and death invades him. Nay, Sir Mammon, Do the fair offices of a man! You stand, As you were readier to depart than he. (One knocks.) Who’s there? My lord her brother is come.

Mam. Ha, Lungs!

Face. His coach is at the door. Avoid his sight, 75 For he ’s as furious as his sister ’s mad.

Mam. Alas!

Face. My brain is quite undone with the fume, sir, I ne’er must hope to be mine own man again.

Mam. Is all lost, Lungs? Will nothing be preserv’d Of all our cost?

Face. Faith, very little, sir; 80 A peck of coals or so, which is cold comfort, sir.

Mam. O, my voluptuous mind! I am justly punish’d.

Face. And so am I, sir.

Mam. Cast from all my hopes——

Face. Nay, certainties, sir.

Mam. By mine own base affections.

Sub. (seeming to come to himself.) O, the curst fruits of vice and lust!

Mam. Good father, 85 It was my sin. Forgive it.

Sub. Hangs my roof Over us still, and will not fall, O justice, Upon us, for this wicked man!

Face. Nay, look, sir, You grieve him now with staying in his sight. Good sir, the nobleman will come too, and take you, 90 And that may breed a tragedy.

Mam. I’ll go.

Face. Ay, and repent at home, sir. It may be, For some good penance you may ha’ it yet; A hundred pound to the box at Bet’lem[2019]——

Mam. Yes.

Face. For the restoring such as—ha’ their wits.

Mam. I’ll do ’t. 95

Face. I’ll send one to you to receive it.

Mam. Do. Is no projection left?

Face. All flown, or stinks, sir.

Mam. Will nought be sav’d that’s good for med’cine, think’st thou?

Face. I cannot tell, sir. There will be perhaps Something about the scraping of the shards, 100 Will cure the itch,—though not your itch of mind, sir. [Aside.] It shall be sav’d for you, and sent home. Good sir, This way, for fear the lord shall meet you. [Exit MAMMON.]

Sub. [raising his head.] Face!

Face. Ay.

Sub. Is he gone?

Face. Yes, and as heavily As all the gold he hop’d for were in’s blood. 105 Let us be light though.

Sub. [leaping up.] Ay, as balls, and bound And hit our heads against the roof for joy; There ’s so much of our care now cast away.

Face. Now to our don.

Sub. Yes, your young widow by this time Is made a countess, Face; she’s been in travail 100 Of a young heir for you.

Face. Good, sir.

Sub. Off with your case,[2020] And greet her kindly, as a bridegroom should, After these common hazards.

Face. Very well, sir. Will you go fetch Don Diego off the while?

Sub. And fetch him over too, if you’ll be pleas’d, sir. 115 Would Dol were in her place, to pick his pockets now!

Face. Why, you can do’t as well, if you would set to’t. I pray you prove your virtue.[2021]

Sub. For your sake, sir. [Exeunt.]

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Act IV, Scene VI — [2022]

[Enter] SURLY and Dame PLIANT.

Sur. Lady, you see into what hands you are fall’n; ’Mongst what a nest of villains! and how near Your honour was t’ have catch’d a certain clap, Through your credulity, had I but been So punctually forward, as place, time, 5 And other circumstance would ha’ made a man; For you’re a handsome woman: would you were wise too! I am a gentleman come here disguis’d, Only to find the knaveries of this citadel; And where I might have wrong’d your honour, and have not, 10 I claim some interest in your love. You are, They say, a widow, rich; and I’m a bachelor. Worth nought: your fortunes may make me a man, As mine ha’ preserv’d you a woman. Think upon it, And whether I have deserv’d you or no.

Dame P. I will, sir. 15

Sur. And for these household-rogues, let me alone To treat with them.

[Enter SUBTLE.]

Sub. How doth my noble Diego, And my dear madam countess? Hath the count Been courteous, lady? liberal and open? Donzel,[2023] methinks you look melancholic, 20 I do not like the dulness of your eye; It hath a heavy cast, ’t is upsee Dutch,[2024] And says you are a lumpish whore-master. Be lighter, I will make your pockets so. (He falls to picking of them.)

Sur. [throws open his cloak.] Will you, don bawd and pick-purse? [Strikes him down.] How now! Reel you? 25 Stand up, sir, you shall find, since I am so heavy, I’ll gi’ you equal weight.

Sub. Help! murder!

Sur. No, sir, There ’s no such thing intended. A good cart[2025] And a clean whip shall ease you of that fear. I am the Spanish don that should be cozened, 30 Do you see? Cozened? Where’s your Captain Face, That parcel[2026]-broker, and whole-bawd, all rascal?

[Enter FACE in his uniform.]

Face. How, Surly!

Sur. O, make your approach, good captain. I’ve found from whence your copper rings and spoons Come now, wherewith, you cheat abroad in taverns. 35 ’T was here you learn’d t’anoint your boot with brimstone, Then rub men’s gold on’t for a kind of touch, And say, ’t was naught, when you had chang’d the colour, That you might ha’t for nothing. And this doctor, Your sooty, smoky-bearded compeer, he 40 Will close you so much gold, in a bolt’s-head, And, on a turn, convey i’ the stead another With sublim’d mercury, that shall burst i’ the heat, And fly out all in fumo! Then weeps Mammon; Then swoons his worship. Or, [FACE slips out.] he is the Faustus, 45 That casteth figures[2027] and can conjure, cures Plagues, piles, and pox, by the ephemerides.[2028] And holds intelligence with all the bawds And midwives of three shires: while you send in—— Captain!—what! is he gone?—damsels with child, 50 Wives that are barren, or the waiting-maid With the green sickness. [Seizes SUBTLE as he is retiring.] —Nay, sir, you must tarry, Though he be scap’d; and answer by the ears, sir.

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Act IV, Scene VII — [2029]

[Re-enter] FACE [with] KASTRIL [to] SURLY [and] SUBTLE.

Face. Why, now’s the time, if ever you will quarrel Well, as they say, and be a true-born child: The doctor and your sister both are abus’d.[2030]

Kas. Where is he? Which is he? He is a slave, Whate’er he is, and the son of a whore.—Are you 5 The man, sir, I would know?

Sur. I should be loth, sir. To confess so much.

Kas. Then you lie i’ your throat.

Sur. How!

Face. [To KASTRIL.] A very arrant rogue, sir, and a cheater, Employ’d here by another conjurer That does not love the doctor, and would cross him 10 If he knew how.

Sur. Sir, you are abus’d.

Kas. You lie; And ’t is no matter.

Face. Well said, sir! He is The impudent’st rascal——

Sur. You are indeed. Will you hear me, sir?

Face. By no means: bid him be gone.

Kas. Begone, sir, quickly.

Sur. This is strange!—Lady, do you inform your brother. 15

Face. There is not such a foist[2031] in all the town. The doctor had him presently; and finds yet The Spanish count will come here.—Bear up, Subtle. [Aside.]

Sub. Yes, sir, he must appear within this hour.

Face. And yet this rogue would come in a disguise, 20 By the temptation of another spirit, To trouble our art, though he could not hurt it!

Kas. Ay, I know—Away, [To his sister.] you talk like a foolish mauther.[2032]

Sur. Sir, all is truth she says.

Face. Do not believe him, sir. 24 He is the lying’st swabber! Come your ways, sir.

Sur. You are valiant out of company!

Kas. Yes, how then, sir?

[Enter DRUGGER with a piece of damask.]

Face. Nay, here’s an honest fellow too that knows him, And all his tricks. (Make good what I say, Abel.) This cheater would ha’ cozen’d thee o’ the widow.— [Aside to DRUG.] He owes this honest Drugger here seven pound, He has had on him in twopenny’orths of tobacco. 31

Drug. Yes, sir. And he has damn’d himself three terms to pay me.

Face. And what does he owe for lotium?[2033]

Drug. Thirty shillings, sir; And for six syringes.

Sur. Hydra of villainy!

Face. Nay, sir, you must quarrel him out o’the house.

Kas. I will; 35 —Sir, if you get not out o’ doors, you lie; And you are a pimp.

Sur. Why, this is madness, sir, Not valour in you; I must laugh at this.

Kas. It is my humour; you are a pimp and a trig.[2034] And an Amadis de Gaul, or a Don Quixote. 40

Drug. Or a knight o’ the curious coxcomb, do you see?

[Enter ANANIAS.]

Ana. Peace to the household!

Kas. I’ll keep peace for no man.

Ana. Casting of dollars is concluded lawful.

Kas. Is he the constable?

Sub. Peace, Ananias.

Face. No, sir.

Kas. Then you are an otter, and a shad, a whit, 45 A very tim.[2035]

Sur. You’ll hear me, sir?

Kas. I will not.

Ana. What is the motive?

Sub. Zeal in the young gentleman, Against his Spanish slops.

Ana. They are profane, Lewd, superstitious, and idolatrous breeches.

Sur. New rascals!

Kas. Will you be gone, sir?

Ana. Avoid, Sathan! 50 Thou art not of the light! That ruff of pride About thy neck, betrays thee; and is the same With that which the unclean birds, in seventy-seven,[2036] Were seen to prank it with on divers coasts: Thou look’st like antichrist, in that lewd hat. 55

Sur. I must give way.

Kas. Be gone, sir.

Sur. But I’ll take A course with you.——

Ana. Depart, proud Spanish fiend!

Sur. Captain and doctor.

Ana. Child of perdition!

Kas. Hence, sir!—[Exit SURLY.] Did I not quarrel bravely?

Face. Yes, indeed, sir.

Kas. Nay, an I give my mind to’t, I shall do’t. 60

Face. O, you must follow, sir, and threaten him tame: He’ll turn again else.

Kas. I’ll re-turn him then. [Exit.]

Face. Drugger, this rogue prevented us, for thee: We had determin’d that thou should’st ha’ come In a Spanish suit, and ha’ carried her so; and he, 65 A brokerly slave, goes, puts it on himself. Hast brought the damask?

Drug. Yes, sir.

Face. Thou must borrow A Spanish suit. Hast thou no credit with the players?

Drug. Yes, sir; did you never see me play the Fool?

Face. I know not, Nab;—thou shalt, if I can help it.—[Aside.] 70 Hieronimo’s[2037] old cloak, ruff, and hat will serve; I’ll tell thee more when thou bring’st ’em. [Exit DRUGGER.] SUBTLE hath whisper’d with ANAN. this while.

Ana. Sir, I know. The Spaniard hates the brethren, and hath spies Upon their actions: and that this was one I make no scruple.—But the holy synod 75 Have been in prayer and meditation for it; And ’t is reveal’d no less to them than me, That casting of money is most lawful.

Sub. True. But here I cannot do it: if the house Should chance to be suspected, all would out, 80 And we be lock’d up in the Tower for ever, To make gold there for th’ state, never come out; And then are you defeated.

Ana. I will tell This to the elders and the weaker brethren, That the whole company of the separation 85 May join in humble prayer again.

Sub. And fasting.

Ana. Yea, for some fitter place. The peace of mind Rest with these walls! [Exit.]

Sub. Thanks, courteous Ananias.

Face. What did he come for?

Sub. About casting dollars, Presently out of hand. And so I told him, 90 A Spanish minister came here to spy, Against the faithful——-

Face. I conceive. Come, Subtle, Thou art so down upon the least disaster! How wouldst thou ha’ done, if I had not helpt thee out?

Sub. I thank thee, Face, for the angry boy, i’ faith. 95

Face. Who would ha’ lookt[2038] it should ha’ been that rascal Surly? He had dy’d his beard and all. Well, sir. Here ’s damask come to make you a suit.

Sub. Where ’s Drugger?

Face. He is gone to borrow me a Spanish habit; 99 I ’ll be the count now.

Sub. But where ’s the widow?

Face. Within, with my lord’s sister; Madam Dol Is entertaining her.

Sub. By your favour, Face, Now she is honest, I will stand again.

Face. You will not offer it?

Sub. Why?

Face. Stand to your word, Or—here comes Dol. She knows——

Sub. You ’re tyrannous still. 105

[Enter DOL hastily.]

Face.—Strict for my right.—How now, Dol! Hast told her, The Spanish count will come?

Dol. Yes; but another is come, You little lookt for!

Face. Who ’s that?

Dol. Your master; The master of the house.

Sub. How, Dol!

Face. She lies, This is some trick. Come, leave your quiblins,[2039] Dorothy. 110

Dol. Look out and see. [FACE goes to the window.]

Sub. Art thou in earnest?

Dol. ’Slight, Forty o’ the neighbours are about him, talking.

Face. ’T is he, by this good day.

Dol. ’T will prove ill day For some on us.

Face. We are undone, and taken.

Dol. Lost, I’m afraid.

Sub. You said he would not come, 115 While there died one a week within the liberties.[2040]

Face. No: ’t was within the walls.

Sub. Was ’t so? Cry you mercy. I thought the liberties. What shall we do now, Face?

Face. Be silent: not a word, if he call or knock. 119 I ’ll into mine old shape again and meet him, Of Jeremy, the butler. I’ the meantime, Do you two pack up all the goods and purchase[2041] That we can carry i’ the two trunks. I ’ll keep him Off for to-day, if I cannot longer: and then 124 At night, I ’ll ship you both away to Ratcliff, Where we will meet to-morrow, and there we ’ll share. Let Mammon’s brass and pewter keep the cellar; We ’ll have another time for that. But, Dol, Prithee go heat a little water quickly; 129 Subtle must shave me. All my captain’s beard Must off, to make me appear smooth Jeremy. You ’ll do it?

Sub. Yes, I ’ll shave you as well as I can.

Face. And not cut my throat, but trim me?

Sub. You shall see, sir. [Exeunt.]

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Act V, Scene I — [2042]

[Enter] LOVEWIT, [with several of the] Neighbours.

Love. Has there been such resort, say you?

1 Nei. Daily, Sir.

2 Nei. And nightly, too.

3 Nei. Ay, some as brave as lords.

4 Nei. Ladies and gentlewomen.

5 Nei. Citizens’ wives.

1 Nei. And knights.

6 Nei. In coaches.

2 Nei. Yes, and oyster-women.

1 Nei. Beside other gallants.

3 Nei. Sailors’ wives.

4 Nei. Tobacco men. 5

5 Nei. Another Pimlico.[2043]

Love. What should my knave advance, To draw this company? He hung out no banners Of a strange calf with five legs to be seen, Or a huge lobster with six claws?

6 Nei. No, sir.

3 Nei. We had gone in then, sir.

Love. He has no gift 10 Of teaching i’ the nose[2044] that e’er I knew of. You saw no bills set up that promis’d cure Of agues or the tooth-ache?

2 Nei. No such thing, sir!

Love. Nor heard a drum struck for baboons or puppets?

5 Nei. Neither, sir.

Love. What device should he bring forth now? 15 I love a teeming wit as I love my nourishment: ’Pray God he ha’ not kept such open house, That he hath sold my hangings, and my bedding! I left him nothing else. If he have eat ’em, 19 A plague o’ the moth, say I! Sure he has got Some bawdy pictures to call all this ging;[2045] The Friar and the Nun; or the new motion[2046] Of the knight’s courser covering the parson’s mare; The boy of six year old, with the great thing: 24 Or ’t may be, he has the fleas that run at tilt Upon a table, or some dog to dance. When saw you him?

1 Nei. Who, sir, Jeremy?

2 Nei. Jeremy butler? We saw him not this month.

Love. How!

4 Nei. Not these five weeks, sir.

[6] Nei. These six weeks, at the least.

Love. You amaze me, neighbours!

5 Nei. Sure, if your worship know not where he is, 30 He’s slipt away.

6 Nei. Pray God he be not made away. He knocks.

Love. Ha! it’s no time to question, then.

6 Nei. About Some three weeks since I heard a doleful cry, As I sat up a-mending my wife’s stockings.

Love. This ’s strange that none will answer! Did’st thou hear 35 A cry, sayst thou?

6 Nei. Yes, sir, like unto a man That had been strangled an hour, and could not speak.

2 Nei. I heard it, too, just this day three weeks, at two o’clock Next morning.

Love. These be miracles, or you make ’em so! A man an hour strangled, and could not speak, And both you heard him cry?

3 Nei. Yes, downward, sir. 41

Love. Thou art a wise fellow. Give me thy hand, I pray thee. What trade art thou on?

3 Nei. A smith, an ’t please your worship.

Love. A smith! Then lend me thy help to get this door open.

3 Nei. That I will presently, sir, but fetch my tools—[Exit.] 45

1 Nei. Sir, best to knock again afore you break it.

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Act V, Scene II — [2047]

LOVEWIT, Neighbours.

[LOVE. Knocks again.] I will.

[Enter FACE in his butler’s livery.]

Face. What mean you, sir?

1, 2, 4 Nei. O, here’s Jeremy!

Face. Good sir, come from the door.

Love. Why, what is the matter?

Face. Yet farther, you are too near yet.

Love. I’ the name of wonder, What means the fellow!

Face. The house, sir, has been visited.

Love. What, with the plague? Stand thou then farther.

Face. No, sir, I had it not.

Love. Who had it then? I left None else but thee ’i the house.

Face. Yes, sir, my fellow, The cat that kept the buttery, had it on her A week before I spied it; but I got her Convey’d away i’ the night: and so I shut 10 The house for a month——

Love. How!

Face. Purposing then, sir, To have burnt rose-vinegar, treacle, and tar, And ha’ made it sweet, that you should ne’er ha’ known it; Because I knew the news would but afflict you, sir.

Love. Breathe less, and farther off! Why this is stranger; 15 The neighbours tell me all here that the doors Have still been open——

Face. How, sir!

Love. Gallants, men and women, And of all sorts, tag-rag, been seen to flock here In threaves,[2048] these ten weeks, as to a second Hogsden, In days of Pimlico and Eye-bright.[2049]

Face. Sir, 20 Their wisdoms will not say so.

Love. To-day they speak Of coaches and gallants; one in a French hood Went in, they tell me; and another was seen In a velvet gown at the window: divers more Pass in and out.

Face. They did pass through the doors then, Or walls, I assure their eye-sights, and their spectacles; 26 For here, sir, are the keys, and here have been, In this my pocket, now above twenty days! And for before, I kept the fort alone there. But that ’t is yet not deep i’ the afternoon, 30 I should believe my neighbours had seen double Through the black pot,[2050] and made these apparitions! For, on my faith to your worship, for these three weeks And upwards, the door has not been open’d.

Love. Strange!

1 Nei. Good faith, I think I saw a coach.

2 Nei. And I too, 35 I’d ha’ been sworn.

Love. Do you but think it now? And but one coach?

4 Nei. We cannot tell, sir: Jeremy Is a very honest fellow.

Face. Did you see me at all?

1 Nei. No; that we are sure on.

2 Nei. I ’ll be sworn o’ that.

Love. Fine rogues to have your testimonies built on! 40

[Re-enter third Neighbour, with his tools.]

3 Nei. Is Jeremy come!

1 Nei. O yes; you may leave your tools; We were deceiv’d, he says.

2 Nei. He ’s had the keys; And the door has been shut these three weeks.

3 Nei. Like enough.

Love. Peace, and get hence, you changelings.

[Enter SURLY and MAMMON.]

Face. [Aside.] Surly come, And Mammon made acquainted! They ’ll tell all. 45 How shall I beat them off? What shall I do? Nothing ’s more wretched than a guilty conscience.

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Act V, Scene III — [2051]

SURLY, MAMMON, LOVEWIT, FACE, Neighbours.

Sur. No, sir, he was a great physician. This, It was no bawdy-house, but a mere chancel! You knew the lord and his sister.

Mam. Nay, good Surly.——

Sur. The happy word, BE RICH——

Mam. Play not the tyrant.—

Sur. Should be to-day pronounc’d to all your friends. 5 And where be your andirons now? And your brass pots, That should ha’ been golden flagons, and great wedges?

Mam. Let me but breathe. What, they ha’ shut their doors, Methinks! He and SURLY knock.

Sur. Ay, now ’tis holiday with them.

Mam. Rogues, Cozeners, impostors, bawds!

Face. What mean you, sir? 10

Mam. To enter if we can.

Face. Another man’s house! Here is the owner, sir; turn you to him, And speak your business.

Mam. Are you, sir, the owner?

Love. Yes, sir.

Mam. And are those knaves within, your cheaters!

Love. What knaves, what cheaters?

Mam. Subtle and his Lungs. 15

Face. The gentleman is distracted, sir! No lungs Nor lights ha’ been seen here these three weeks, sir, Within these doors upon my word.

Sur. Your word, Groom arrogant!

Face. Yes, sir, I am the housekeeper, And know the keys ha’ not been out o’ my hands. 20

Sur. This ’s a new Face.

Face. You do mistake the house, sir; What sign was ’t at?

Sur. You rascal! This is one Of the confederacy. Come, let ’s get officers, And force the door.

Love. Pray you stay, gentlemen.

Sur. No, sir, we ’ll come with warrant.

Mam. Ay, and then 25 We shall ha’ your doors open. [Exeunt MAM. and SUR.]

Love. What means this?

Face. I cannot tell, sir.

1 Nei. These are two o’ the gallants That we do think we saw.

Face. Two o’ the fools! You talk as idly as they. Good faith, sir, I think the moon has craz’d ’em all.—[Aside.] O me, 30 [Enter KASTRIL.] The angry boy come too! He ’ll make a noise, And ne’er away till he have betray’d us all.

Kas. (knocking.) What, rogues, bawds, slaves, you ’ll open the door anon! Punk, cockatrice, my suster! By this light 34 I’ll fetch the marshal to you. You are a whore To keep your castle——

Face. Who would you speak with, sir?

Kas. The bawdy doctor, and the cozening captain, And puss my suster.

Love. This is something, sure.

Face. Upon my trust, the doors were never open, sir.

Kas. I have heard all their tricks told me twice over, 40 By the fat knight and the lean gentleman.

Love. Here comes another.

[Enter ANANIAS and TRIBULATION.]

Face. Ananias too! And his pastor!

Tri. The doors are shut against us. They beat too, at the door.

Ana. Come forth, you seed of sulphur, sons of fire! Your stench it is broke forth; abomination 45 Is in the house.

Kas. Ay, my suster ’s there.

Ana. The place, It is become a cage of unclean birds.

Kas. Yes, I will fetch the scavenger, and the constable.

Tri. You shall do well.

Ana. We ’ll join to weed them out.

Kas. You will not come then, punk devise,[2052] my suster! 50

Ana. Call her not sister; she ’s a harlot verily.

Kas. I ’ll raise the street.

Love. Good gentleman, a word.

Ana. Satan avoid, and hinder not our zeal! [Exeunt ANA., TRIB., and KAST.]

Love. The world ’s turn’d Bet’lem.

Face. These are all broke loose, Out of St. Katherine’s, where they use to keep The better sort of mad-folks.

1 Nei. All these persons 55 We saw go in and out here.

2 Nei. Yes, indeed, sir.

3 Nei. These were the parties.

Face. Peace, you drunkards! Sir, I wonder at it. Please you to give me leave To touch the door; I ’ll try an the lock be chang’d. 60

Love. It mazes me!

Face. [goes to the door.] Good faith, sir, I believe There ’s no such thing: ’t is all deceptio visus.[2053]— [Aside.] Would I could get him away.

Dap. [within.] Master captain! Master doctor!

Love. Who ’s that?

Face. [Aside.] Our clerk within, that I forgot!—I—I know not, sir. 65

Dap. [within.] For God’s sake, when will her grace be at leisure?

Face. Ha! Illusions, some spirit o’ the air!—[Aside.] His gag is melted, And now he sets out the throat.

Dap. [within.] I am almost stifled——

Face. [Aside.] Would you were together.

Love. ’T is i’ the house. Ha! list.

Face. Believe it, sir, i’ the air.

Love. Peace, you. 70

Dap. [within.] Mine aunt’s grace does not use me well.

Sub. [within.] You fool, Peace, you ’ll mar all.

Face. [speaks through the keyhole, while LOVEWIT advances to the door unobserved.] Or you will else, you rogue.

Love. O, is it so? Then you converse with spirits!— Come, sir. No more o’ your tricks, good Jeremy. The truth, the shortest way.

Face. Dismiss this rabble, sir.— 75 [Aside.] What shall I do? I am catch’d.

Love. Good neighbours, I thank you all. You may depart. [Exeunt Neighbours.]—Come, sir, You know that I am an indulgent master; And therefore conceal nothing. What ’s your medicine, To draw so many several sorts of wild fowl? 80

Face. Sir, you were wont to affect mirth and wit— But here ’s no place to talk on ’t i’ the street. Give me but leave to make the best of my fortune, And only pardon me th’ abuse of your house: It ’s all I beg. I ’ll help you to a widow, 85 In recompense, that you shall gi’ me thanks for, Will make you seven years younger, and a rich one. ’T is but your putting on a Spanish cloak: I have her within. You need not fear the house; It was not visited.

Love. But by me, who came 90 Sooner than you expected.

Face. It is true, sir. ’Pray you forgive me.

Love. Well; let ’s see your widow. [Exeunt.]

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Act V, Scene IV — [2054]

[Enter] SUBTLE [leading in] DAPPER, [with his eyes bound as before].

Sub. How! ha’ you eaten your gag?

Dap. Yes, faith, it crumbled Away i’ my mouth.

Sub. You ha’ spoil’d all then.

Dap. No! I hope my aunt of Fairy will forgive me.

Sub. Your aunt ’s a gracious lady; but in troth You were to blame.

Dap. The fume did overcome me, 5 And I did do ’t to stay my stomach. ’Pray you So satisfy her grace. [Enter FACE in his uniform.] Here comes the captain.

Face. How now! Is his mouth down?

Sub. Ay, he has spoken!

Face. A pox, I heard him, and you too. He’s undone then.— [Aside to SUBTLE.] I have been fain to say, the house is haunted 10 With spirits, to keep churl back.

Sub. And hast thou done it?

Face. Sure, for this night.

Sub. Why, then triumph and sing Of Face so famous, the precious king Of present wits.

Face. Did you not hear the coil 14 About the door?

Sub. Yes, and I dwindled[2055] with it.

Face. Show him his aunt, and let him be dispatch’d; I ’ll send her to you. [Exit FACE.]

Sub. Well, sir, your aunt her grace Will give you audience presently, on my suit, And the captain’s word that you did not eat your gag In any contempt of her highness. [Unbinds his eyes.]

Dap. Not I, in troth, sir. 20

[Enter] DOL like the Queen of Fairy.

Sub. Here she is come. Down o’ your knees and wriggle: She has a stately presence. [DAPPER _kneels and shuffles towards her_.] Good! Yet nearer, And bid, God save you!

Dap. Madam!

Sub. And your aunt.

Dap. And my most gracious aunt, God save your grace.

Dol. Nephew, we thought to have been angry with you; 25 But that sweet face of yours hath turn’d the tide, And made it flow with joy, that ebb’d of love. Arise, and touch our velvet gown.

Sub. The skirts, And kiss ’em. So!

Dol. Let me now stroke that head. _Much, nephew, shalt thou win, much shalt thou spend; 30 Much shalt thou give away, much shalt thou lend._

Sub. [Aside.] Ay, much! indeed.—Why do you not thank her grace?

Dap. I cannot speak for joy.

Sub. See, the kind wretch! Your grace’s kinsman right.

Dol. Give me the bird.—— Here is your fly in a purse, about your neck, cousin; 35 Wear it, and feed it about this day sev’n-night, On your right wrist——

Sub. Open a vein with a pin And let it suck but once a week; till then, You must not look on ’t.

Dol. No; and, kinsman, Bear yourself worthy of the blood you came on.

Sub. Her grace would ha’ you eat no more Woolsack[2056] pies, 41 Nor Dagger[2056] frumety.[2057]

Dol. Nor break his fast In Heaven[2056] and Hell.[2056]

Sub. She ’s with you everywhere! Nor play with costermongers, at mumchance,[2058] traytrip,[2058] God-make-you-rich[2058] (when as your aunt has done it); but keep 45 The gallant’st company, and the best games——

Dap. Yes, sir.

Sub. Gleek[2058] and primero,[2058] and what you get, be true to us.

Dap. By this hand, I will.

Sub. You may bring ’s a thousand pound Before to-morrow night, if but three thousand Be stirring, an you will.

Dap. I swear I will then. 50

Sub. Your fly will learn you all games.

Face. [within.] Ha’ you done there?

Sub. Your grace will command him no more duties?

Dol. No; But come and see me often. I may chance To leave him three or four hundred chests of treasure, 54 And some twelve thousand acres of fairy land, If he game well and comely with good gamesters.

Sub. There ’s a kind aunt: kiss her departing part.— But you must sell your forty mark a year now.

Dap. Ay, sir, I mean.

Sub. Or, give ’t away; pox on ’t!

Dap. I ’ll gi’ ’t mine aunt. I ’ll go and fetch the writings. [Exit.] 60

Sub. ’T is well; away.

[Re-enter FACE.]

Face. Where ’s Subtle?

Sub. Here; what news?

Face. Drugger is at the door; go take his suit, And bid him fetch a parson presently. Say he shall marry the widow. Thou shalt spend 64 A hundred pound by the service! [Exit SUBTLE.] Now, Queen Dol, Have you pack’d up all?

Dol. Yes.

Face. And how do you like The Lady Pliant?

Dol. A good dull innocent.

[Re-enter SUBTLE.]

Sub. Here’s your Hieronimo’s cloak and hat.

Face. Give me ’em.

Sub. And the ruff too?

Face. Yes; I ’ll come to you presently. [Exit.]

Sub. Now he is gone about his project, Dol, 70 I told you of, for the widow.

Dol. ’T is direct Against our articles.

Sub. Well, we will fit him, wench. Hast thou gull’d her of her jewels or her bracelets?

Dol. No; but I will do ’t.

Sub. Soon at night, my Dolly, When we are shipt, and all our goods aboard, 75 Eastward for Ratcliff, we will turn our course To Brainford, westward, if thou sayst the word, And take our leaves of this o’erweening rascal. This peremptory Face.

Dol. Content; I ’m weary of him.

Sub. Thou ’st cause, when the slave will run at wiving, Dol, 80 Against the instrument that was drawn between us.

Dol. I ’ll pluck his bird as bare as I can.

Sub. Yes, tell her She must by any means address some present To th’ cunning man, make him amends for wronging His art with her suspicion; send a ring, 85 Or chain of pearl; she will be tortur’d else Extremely in her sleep, say, and ha’ strange things Come to her. Wilt thou?

Dol. Yes.

Sub. My fine flitter-mouse,[2059] My bird o’ the night! We ’ll tickle it at the Pigeons,[2060] 89 When we have all, and may unlock the trunks, And say, this ’s mine, and thine; and thine, and mine. They kiss.

Re-enter FACE.

Face. What now! a billing?

Sub. Yes, a little exalted In the good passage of our stock-affairs.

Face. Drugger has brought his parson; take him in, Subtle, And send Nab back again to wash his face. 95

Sub. I will; and shave himself? [Exit.]

Face. If you can get him.

Dol. You are hot upon it, Face, whate’er it is!

Face. A trick that Dol shall spend ten pound a month by. [Re-enter SUBTLE.] Is he gone?

Sub. The chaplain waits you i’ the hall, sir.

Face. I ’ll go bestow him. [Exit.]

Dol. He ’ll now marry her instantly.

Sub. He cannot yet, he is not ready. Dear Dol, 101 Cozen her of all thou canst. To deceive him Is no deceit, but justice, that would break Such an inextricable tie as ours was.

Dol. Let me alone to fit him.

[Re-enter FACE.]

Face. Come, my venturers, You ha’ pack’d up all? Where be the trunks? Bring forth. 106

Sub. Here.

Face. Let us see ’em. Where ’s the money?

Sub. Here, In this.

Face. Mammon’s ten pound; eight score before; The brethren’s money this. Drugger’s and Dapper’s. What paper ’s that?

Dol. The jewel of the waiting maid’s, 110 That stole it from her lady, to know certain——

Face. If she should have precedence of her mistress?

Dol. Yes.

Face. What box is that?

Sub. The fish-wives’ rings, I think, And th’ ale-wives’ single money.[2061] Is ’t not, Dol?

Dol. Yes; and the whistle that the sailor’s wife 115 Brought you to know an her husband were with Ward.[2062]

Face. We ’ll wet it to-morrow; and our silver beakers And tavern cups. Where be the French petticoats And girdles and hangers?

Sub. Here, i’ the trunk, And the bolts of lawn.

Face. Is Drugger’s damask there, And the tobacco?

Sub. Yes.

Face. Give me the keys. 121

Dol. Why you the keys?

Sub. No matter, Dol; because We shall not open ’em before he comes.

Face. ’T is true, you shall not open them, indeed; Nor have ’em forth, do you see? Not forth, Dol.

Dol. No! 125

Face. No, my smock-rampant. The right is, my master Knows all, has pardon’d me, and he will keep ’em. Doctor, ’t is true—you look—for all your figures: I sent for him, indeed. Wherefore, good partners, Both he and she, be satisfied: for here 130 Determines[2063] the indenture tripartite ’Twixt Subtle, Dol, and Face. All I can do Is to help you over the wall, o’ the back-side, Or lend you a sheet to save your velvet gown, Dol. Here will be officers presently, bethink you 135 Of some course suddenly to scape the dock; For thither you ’ll come else. (Some knock.) Hark you, thunder.

Sub. You are a precious fiend!

Offi. [without.] Open the door.

Face. Dol, I am sorry for thee i’ faith; but hear’st thou? It shall go hard but I will place thee somewhere: 140 Thou shalt ha’ my letter to Mistress Amo——

Dol. Hang you.

Face. Or Madam Caesarean.

Dol. Pox upon you, rogue, Would I had but time to beat thee!

Face. Subtle, Let ’s know where you ’ll set up next; I will send you 144 A customer now and then, for old acquaintance. What new course have you?

Sub. Rogue, I ’ll hang myself; That I may walk a greater devil than thou, And haunt thee i’ the flock-bed and the buttery. [Exeunt.]

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Act V, Scene V — [2064]

[Enter] LOVEWIT [in the Spanish dress, with the Parson. Loud knocking at the door.]

Love. What do you mean, my masters?

Mam. [without.] Open your door, Cheaters, bawds, conjurers.

Offi. [without.] Or we ’ll break it open.

Love. What warrant have you?

Offi. [without.] Warrant enough, sir, doubt not, If you ’ll not open it.

Love. Is there an officer there?

Offi. [without.] Yes, two or three for failing.[2065]

Love. Have but patience, 5 And I will open it straight.

[Enter FACE, as butler.]

Face. Sir, ha’ you done? Is it a marriage? Perfect?

Love. Yes, my brain.

Face. Off with your ruff and cloak then; be yourself, sir.

Sur. [without.] Down with the door.

Kas. [without.] ’Slight, ding[2066] it open.

Love. [opening the door.] Hold, Hold, gentlemen, what means this violence? 10

[MAMMON, SURLY, KASTRIL, ANANIAS, TRIBULATION and Officers rush in.]

Mam. Where is this collier?

Sur. And my Captain Face?

Mam. These day-owls.

Sur. That are birding[2067] in men’s purses.

Mam. Madam Suppository.

Kas. Doxy, my suster.

Ana. Locusts. Of the foul pit.

Tri. Profane as Bel and the Dragon.

Ana. Worse than the grasshoppers, or the lice of Egypt. 15

Love. Good gentlemen, hear me. Are you officers, And cannot stay this violence?

1 Offi. Keep the peace.

Love. Gentlemen, what is the matter? Whom do you seek?

Mam. The chemical cozener.

Sur. And the captain pander.

Kas. The nun my suster.

Mam. Madam Rabbi.

Ana. Scorpions, 20 And caterpillars.

Love. Fewer at once, I pray you.

1 Offi. One after another, gentlemen, I charge you, By virtue of my staff.

Ana. They are the vessels Of pride, lust, and the cart.

Love. Good zeal, lie still A little while.

Tri. Peace, Deacon Ananias. 25

Love. The house is mine here, and the doors are open; If there be any such persons as you seek for, Use your authority, search on o’ God’s name, I am but newly come to town, and finding This tumult ’bout my door, to tell you true, 30 It somewhat maz’d me; till my man here, fearing My more displeasure, told me he had done Somewhat an insolent part, let out my house (Belike presuming on my known aversion From any air o’ the town while there was sickness), 35 To a doctor and a captain: who, what they are Or where they be, he knows not.

Mam. Are they gone?

Love. You may go in and search, sir. (MAMMON, ANA., and TRIB. _go in_.) Here, I find The empty walls worse than I left ’em, smok’d, A few crack’d pots, and glasses, and a furnace: The ceiling fill’d with poesies of the candle, 41 And “Madam with a dildo”[2068] writ o’ the walls. Only one gentlewoman I met here That is within, that said she was a widow——

Kas. Ay, that’s my suster; I ’ll go thump her. Where is she? [Goes in.] 45

Love. And should ha’ married a Spanish count, but he, When he came to ’t, neglected her so grossly, That I, a widower, am gone through with her.

Sur. How! have I lost her then?

Love. Were you the don, sir? Good faith, now she does blame you extremely, and says 50 You swore, and told her you had ta’en the pains To dye your beard, and umber o’er your face, Borrowed a suit, and ruff, all for her love: And then did nothing. What an oversight And want of putting forward, sir, was this! 55 Well fare an old harquebusier[2069] yet, Could prime his powder, and give fire, and hit, All in a twinkling! MAMMON comes forth.

Mam. The whole nest are fled!

Love. What sort of birds were they?

Mam. A kind of choughs,[2070] Or thievish daws, sir, that have pickt my purse, 60 Of eight score and ten pounds within these five weeks, Beside my first materials; and my goods, That lie i’ the cellar, which I am glad they ha’ left, I may have home yet.

Love. Think you so, sir?

Mam. Ay.

Love. By order of law, sir, but not otherwise.

Mam. Not mine own stuff!

Love. Sir, I can take no knowledge 66 That they are yours, but by public means. If you can bring certificate that you were gull’d of ’em, Or any formal writ out of a court, That you did cozen yourself, I will not hold them. 70

Mam. I ’ll rather lose ’em.

Love. That you shall not, sir, By me, in troth; upon these terms, they ’re yours. What, should they ha’ been, sir, turn’d into gold, all?

Mam. No. I cannot tell.—It may be they should.—What then?

Love. What a great loss in hope have you sustain’d! 75

Mam. Not I; the commonwealth has.

Face. Ay, he would ha’ built The city new; and made a ditch about it Of silver, should have run with cream from Hogsden; That every Sunday in Moorsfields the younkers, And tits[2071] and tom-boys should have fed on, gratis. 80

Mam. I will go mount a turnip-cart, and preach The end o’ the world within these two months. Surly, What! in a dream?

Sur. Must I needs cheat myself With that same foolish vice of honesty! Come, let us go and hearken out the rogues: 85 That Face I ’ll mark for mine, if e’er I meet him.

Face. If I can hear of him, sir, I ’ll bring you word Unto your lodging; for in troth, they were strangers To me; I thought ’em honest as myself, sir. They come forth.

[Re-enter ANANIAS and TRIBULATION.]

Tri. ’T is well, the saints shall not lose all yet. Go 90 And get some carts——

Love. For what, my zealous friends?

Ana. To bear away the portion of the righteous Out of this den of thieves.

Love. What is that portion?

Ana. The goods sometimes the orphans’, that the brethren Bought with their silver pence.

Love. What, those i’ the cellar, 95 The knight Sir Mammon claims?

Ana. I do defy The wicked Mammon, so do all the brethren, Thou profane man! I ask thee with what conscience Thou canst advance that idol against us, That have the seal?[2072] Were not the shillings numb’red 100 That made the pounds; were not the pounds told out Upon the second day of the fourth week, In the eighth month, upon the table dormant, The year of the last patience of the saints, Six hundred and ten?

Love. Mine earnest vehement botcher, 105 And deacon also, I cannot dispute with you: But if you get you not away the sooner, I shall confute you with a cudgel.

Ana. Sir!

Tri. Be patient, Ananias.

Ana. I am strong, And will stand up, well girt, against an host 110 That threaten Gad in exile.

Love. I shall send you To Amsterdam, to your cellar.

Ana. I will pray there, Against thy house. May dogs defile thy walls, And wasps and hornets breed beneath thy roof, This seat of falsehood, and this cave of coz’nage! [Exeunt ANA. and TRIB.]

Enter DRUGGER.

Love. Another too?

Drug. Not I, sir, I am no brother. 116

Love. (beats him.) Away, you Harry Nicholas![2073] do you talk? [Exit DRUG.]

Face. No, this was Abel Drugger. Good sir, go, (To the Parson.) And satisfy him; tell him all is done; He staid too long a washing of his face. 120 The doctor, he shall hear of him at Westchester; And of the captain, tell him, at Yarmouth, or Some good port-town else, lying for a wind. [Exit Parson.] If you can get off the angry child now, sir——

[Enter KASTRIL, dragging in] his sister.

Kas. Come on, you ewe, you have match’d most sweetly, ha’ you not? 125 Did not I say, I would never ha’ you tupt But by a dubb’d boy,[2074] to make you a lady-tom? ’Slight, you are a mammet![2075] O, I could touse you now. Death, mun[2076] you marry with a pox!

Love. You lie, boy; As sound as you; and I ’m aforehand with you.

Kas. Anon! 130

Love. Come, will you quarrel? I will feize[2077] you, sirrah; Why do you not buckle to your tools?

Kas. God’s light, This is a fine old boy as e’er I saw!

Love. What, do you change your copy now? Proceed; Here stands my dove: stoop[2078] at her if you dare. 135

Kas. ’Slight, I must love him! I cannot choose, i’ faith, An I should be hang’d for ’t! Suster, I protest, I honour thee for this match.

Love. O, do you so, sir?

Kas. Yes, an thou canst take tobacco and drink, old boy, I ’ll give her five hundred pound more to her marriage, 140 Than her own state.

Love. Fill a pipe full, Jeremy.

Face. Yes; but go in and take it, sir.

Love. We will. I will be rul’d by thee in anything, Jeremy.

Kas. ’Slight, thou art not hide-bound, thou art a jovy[2079] boy! 144 Come, let us in, I pray thee, and take our whiffs.

Love. Whiff in with your sister, brother boy. [Exeunt KAS. and Dame P.] That master That had receiv’d such happiness by a servant, In such a widow, and with so much wealth, Were very ungrateful, if he would not be A little indulgent to that servant’s wit, 150 And help his fortune, though were some small strain Of his own candour.[2080] [Advancing.] Therefore, gentlemen, And kind spectators, if I have outstript An old man’s gravity, or strict canon, think 154 What a young wife and a good brain may do; Stretch age’s truth sometimes, and crack it too. Speak for thyself, knave.

Face. So I will, sir. [Advancing to the front of the stage.] Gentlemen, My part a little fell in this last scene, Yet ’t was decorum.[2081] And though I am clean Got off from Subtle, Surly, Mammon, Dol, 160 Hot Ananias, Dapper, Drugger, all With whom I traded; yet I put myself On you, that are my country:[2082] and this pelf Which I have got, if you do quit me, rests, To feast you often, and invite new guests. 166 [Exeunt.]

THE SHOEMAKERS’ HOLIDAY

BY THOMAS DEKKER

[DRAMATIS PERSONAE

THE KING. THE EARL OF CORNWALL. SIR HUGH LACY, Earl of Lincoln. ROWLAND LACY, } otherwise HANS, } His Nephews. ASKEW } SIR ROGER OATELY, Lord Mayor of London. Master HAMMON, } Master WARNER, } Citizens of London. Master SCOTT, } SIMON EYRE, the Shoemaker. ROGER, commonly } called HODGE, } FIRK, } EYRE’S Journeymen. RALPH, } LOVELL, a Courtier. DODGER, a Servant to the EARL OF LINCOLN. A Dutch Skipper. A Boy. ROSE, Daughter of SIR ROGER. SYBIL, her Maid. MARGERY, Wife of SIMON EYRE. JANE, Wife of RALPH.

Courtiers, Attendants, Officers, Soldiers, Hunters, Shoemakers, Apprentices, Servants.

SCENE.—London and Old Ford.]

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The Prologue

As it was pronounced before the Queen’s Majesty

As wretches in a storm, expecting day, With trembling hands and eyes cast up to heaven, Make prayers the anchor of their conquer’d hopes, So we, dear goddess, wonder of all eyes, Your meanest vassals, through mistrust and fear 5 To sink into the bottom of disgrace By our imperfect pastimes, prostrate thus On bended knees, our sails of hope do strike, Dreading the bitter storms of your dislike. Since then, unhappy men, our hap is such 10 That to ourselves ourselves no help can bring, But needs must perish, if your saint-like ears, Locking the temple where all mercy sits, Refuse the tribute of all begging tongues; Oh, grant, bright mirror of true chastity, 15 From those life-breathing stars, your sun-like eyes, One gracious smile; for your celestial breath Must send us life, or sentence us to death.

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Act I, Scene I — [2083]

Enter the LORD MAYOR and the EARL OF LINCOLN.

Linc. My lord mayor, you have sundry times Feasted myself and many courtiers more; Seldom or never can we be so kind To make requital of your courtesy. But leaving this, I hear my cousin Lacy 5 Is much affected to[2084] your daughter Rose.

L. Mayor. True, my good lord, and she loves him so well That I mislike her boldness in the chase.

Linc. Why, my lord mayor, think you it then a shame, To join a Lacy with an Oateley’s name? 10

L. Mayor. Too mean is my poor girl for his high birth; Poor citizens must not with courtiers wed, Who will in silks and gay apparel spend More in one year than I am worth, by far: Therefore your honour need not doubt[2085] my girl. 15

Linc. Take heed, my lord, advise you what you do! A verier unthrift lives not in the world, Than is my cousin; for I ’ll tell you what: ’T is now almost a year since he requested To travel countries for experience. 20 I furnisht him with coin, bills of exchange, Letters of credit, men to wait on him, Solicited my friends in Italy Well to respect him. But, to see the end, Scant had he journey’d through half Germany, But all his coin was spent, his men cast off, 26 His bills embezzl’d,[2086] and my jolly coz,[2087] Asham’d to show his bankrupt presence here, Became a shoemaker in Wittenberg, A goodly science for a gentleman 30 Of such descent! Now judge the rest by this: Suppose your daughter have a thousand pound, He did consume me more in one half year: And make him heir to all the wealth you have One twelvemonth’s rioting will waste it all. 35 Then seek, my lord, some honest citizen To wed your daughter to.

L. Mayor. I thank your lordship. [Aside.] Well, fox, I understand your subtilty.— As for your nephew, let your lordship’s eye But watch his actions, and you need not fear, For I have seen my daughter far enough. 41 And yet your cousin Rowland might do well, Now he hath learn’d an occupation: And yet I scorn to call him son-in-law.

Linc. Ay, but I have a better trade for him. I thank his grace, he hath appointed him 45 Chief colonel of all those companies Must’red in London and the shires about, To serve his highness in those wars of France. See where he comes!— Enter LOVELL, LACY, and ASKEW. Lovell, what news with you?

Lovell. My Lord of Lincoln, ’tis his highness’ will, 51 That presently[2088] your cousin ship for France With all his powers; he would not for a million, But they should land at Dieppe within four days.

Linc. Go certify his grace, it shall be done. Exit LOVELL. Now, cousin Lacy, in what forwardness 56 Are all your companies?

Lacy. All well prepar’d. The men of Hertfordshire lie at Mile-end, Suffolk and Essex train in Tothill-fields, The Londoners and those of Middlesex, 60 All gallantly prepar’d in Finsbury, With frolic spirits long for their parting hour.

L. Mayor. They have their imprest,[2089] coats, and furniture;[2090] And, if it please your cousin Lacy come To the Guildhall, he shall receive his pay; 65 And twenty pounds besides my brethren Will freely give him, to approve our loves We bear unto my lord, your uncle here.

Lacy. I thank your honour.

Linc. Thanks, my good lord mayor. 69

L. Mayor. At the Guildhall we will expect your coming. Exit.

Linc. To approve your loves to me? No subtilty Nephew, that twenty pound he doth bestow For joy to rid you from his daughter Rose. But, cousins both, now here are none but friends, I would not have you cast an amorous eye 75 Upon so mean a project as the love Of a gay, wanton, painted citizen. I know, this churl even in the height of scorn Doth hate the mixture of his blood with thine. I pray thee, do thou so! Remember, coz, 80 What honourable fortunes wait on thee. Increase the king’s love, which so brightly shines, And gilds thy hopes. I have no heir but thee,— And yet not thee, if with a wayward spirit Thou start from the true bias[2091] of my love. 85

Lacy. My lord, I will for honour, not desire Of land or livings, or to be your heir, So guide my actions in pursuit of France, As shall add glory to the Lacies’ name.

Linc. Coz, for those words here ’s thirty Portuguese,[2092] 90 And, nephew Askew, there ’s a few for you. Fair Honour, in her loftiest eminence, Stays in France for you, till you fetch her thence. Then, nephews, clap swift wings on your designs. 94 Begone, begone, make haste to the Guildhall; There presently I ’ll meet you. Do not stay: Where honour [beckons][2093] shame attends delay. Exit.

Askew. How gladly would your uncle have you gone!

Lacy. True, coz, but I ’ll o’erreach his policies. I have some serious business for three days, 100 Which nothing but my presence can dispatch. You, therefore, cousin, with the companies, Shall haste to Dover; there I ’ll meet with you: Or, if I stay past my prefixed time, 104 Away for France; we ’ll meet in Normandy. The twenty pounds my lord mayor gives to me You shall receive, and these ten Portuguese, Part of mine uncle’s thirty. Gentle coz, Have care to our great charge; I know, your wisdom Hath tried itself in higher consequence. 110

Askew. Coz, all myself am yours: yet have this care, To lodge in London with all secrecy; Our uncle Lincoln hath, besides his own, Many a jealous eye, that in your face Stares only to watch means for your disgrace.

Lacy. Stay, cousin, who be these? 116

Enter SIMON EYRE, [MARGERY] his wife, HODGE, FIRK, JANE, and RALPH with a piece.[2094]

Eyre. Leave whining, leave whining! Away with this whimp’ring, this puling, these blubb’ring tears, and these wet eyes! I ’ll get thy husband discharg’d, I warrant thee, sweet Jane; go to! (121)

Hodge. Master, here be the captains.

Eyre. Peace, Hodge; husht, ye knave, husht!

Firk. Here be the cavaliers and the colonels, master. 125

Eyre. Peace, Firk; peace, my fine Firk! Stand by with your pishery-pashery,[2095] away! I am a man of the best presence; I ’ll speak to them, an[2096] they were Popes.—Gentlemen, captains, colonels, commanders! Brave men, (130) brave leaders, may it please you to give me audience. I am Simon Eyre, the mad shoemaker of Tower Street; this wench with the mealy mouth that will never tire, is my wife, I can tell you; here ’s Hodge, my man and my foreman; (135) here ’s Firk, my fine firking[2097] journeyman, and this is blubbered Jane. All we come to be suitors for this honest Ralph. Keep him at home, and as I am a true shoemaker and a gentleman of the gentle craft, buy spurs yourself, and I ’ll (140) find ye boots these seven years.

Marg. Seven years, husband?

Eyre. Peace, midriff,[2098] peace! I know what I do. Peace! 144

Firk. Truly, master cormorant,[2099] you shall do God good service to let Ralph and his wife stay together. She ’s a young new-married woman; if you take her husband away from her a-night, you undo her; she may beg in the daytime; for he ’s as good a workman at a prick and an awl as any is in our trade. 151

Jane. O let him stay, else I shall be undone.

Firk. Ay, truly, she shall be laid at one side like a pair of old shoes else, and be occupied for no use. 155

Lacy. Truly, my friends it lies not in my power: The Londoners are press’d,[2100] paid, and set forth By the lord mayor; I cannot change a man.

Hodge. Why, then you were as good be a corporal as a colonel, if you cannot discharge (160) one good fellow; and I tell you true, I think you do more than you can answer, to press a man within a year and a day of his marriage.

Eyre. Well said, melancholy Hodge; gramercy, my fine foreman. 165

Marg. Truly, gentlemen, it were ill done for such as you, to stand so stiffly against a poor young wife, considering her case, she is new-married; but let that pass. I pray, deal not roughly with her; her husband is a young man, and but newly ent’red; but let that pass. 171

Eyre. Away with your pishery-pashery, your pols and your edipols![2101] Peace, midriff; silence, Cicely Bumtrinket! Let your head speak. 175

Firk. Yea, and the horns too, master.

Eyre. Too soon, my fine Firk, too soon! Peace, scoundrels! See you this man? Captains, you will not release him? Well, let him go; he ’s a proper shot; let him vanish! (180) Peace, Jane, dry up thy tears, they ’ll make his powder dankish.[2102] Take him, brave men; Hector of Troy was an hackney to him, Hercules and Termagant[2103] scoundrels. Prince Arthur’s Round-table—by the Lord of Ludgate—ne’er (185) fed such a tall,[2104] such a dapper swordman; by the life of Pharaoh, a brave resolute swordman! Peace, Jane! I say no more, mad knaves.

Firk. See, see, Hodge, how my master raves in commendation of Ralph! 190

Hodge. Ralph, th’ art a gull,[2105] by this hand, an thou goest not.

Askew. I am glad, good Master Eyre, it is my hap To meet so resolute a soldier. Trust me, for your report and love to him, 195 A common slight regard shall not respect him.

Lacy. Is thy name Ralph?

Ralph. Yes, sir.

Lacy. Give me thine hand; Thou shalt not want, as I am a gentleman. Woman, be patient; God, no doubt, will send Thy husband safe again; but he must go, 200 His country’s quarrel says it shall be so.

Hodge. Th’ art a gull, by my stirrup, if thou dost not go. I will not have thee strike thy gimlet into these weak vessels; prick thine enemies, Ralph. 205

Enter DODGER.

Dodger. My lord, your uncle on the Tower-hill Stays with the lord-mayor and the aldermen, And doth request you, with all speed you may, To hasten thither.

Askew. Cousin, let ’s go.

Lacy. Dodger, run you before, tell them we come,— 210 This Dodger is mine uncle’s parasite. Exit DODGER. The arrant’st varlet that e’er breath’d on earth; He sets more discord in a noble house By one day’s broaching of his pickthank tales,[2106] Than can be salv’d[2107] again in twenty years, 215 And he, I fear, shall go with us to France, To pry into our actions.

Askew. Therefore, coz, It shall behove you to be circumspect.

Lacy. Fear not, good cousin.—Ralph, hie to your colours. [Exit LACY and ASKEW.]

Ralph. I must, because there’s no remedy; But, gentle master and my loving dame, 221 As you have always been a friend to me, So in mine absence think upon my wife.

Jane. Alas, my Ralph.

Marg. She cannot speak for weeping. 224

Eyre. Peace, you crack’d groats,[2108] you mustard tokens,[2109] disquiet not the brave soldier. Go thy ways, Ralph!

Jane. Ay, ay, you bid him go; what shall I do When he is gone?

Firk. Why, be doing with me or my fellow Hodge; be not idle. 231

Eyre. Let me see thy hand, Jane. This fine hand, this white hand, these pretty fingers must spin, must card, must work; work, you bombast cotton-candle-quean; work for your living, (235) with a pox to you.—Hold thee, Ralph, here ’s five sixpences for thee; fight for the honour of the gentle craft, for the gentlemen shoemakers, the courageous cordwainers, the flower of St. Martin’s, the mad knaves of Bedlam, Fleet (240) Street, Tower Street and Whitechapel; crack me the crowns of the French knaves; a pox on them, crack them; fight, by the Lord of Ludgate; fight, my fine boy!

Firk. Here, Ralph, here ’s three two-pences; (245) two carry into France, the third shall wash our souls at parting, for sorrow is dry. For my sake, firk the Basa mon cues.

Hodge. Ralph. I am heavy at parting; but here ’s a shilling for thee. God send[2110] thee to (250) cram thy slops[2111] with French crowns, and thy enemies’ bellies with bullets.

Ralph. I thank you, master, and I thank you all. Now, gentle wife, my loving lovely Jane, Rich men, at parting, give their wives rich gifts, 255 Jewels and rings, to grace their lily hands. Thou know’st our trade makes rings for women’s heels; Here take this pair of shoes, cut out by Hodge, Stitch’d by my fellow Firk, seam’d by myself, Made up and pink’d[2112] with letters for thy name. 260 Wear them, my dear Jane, for thy husband’s sake, And every morning when thou pull’st them on, Remember me, and pray for my return. Make much of them; for I have made them so That I can know them from a thousand mo. 265

Drum sounds. Enter the LORD MAYOR, the EARL OF LINCOLN, LACY, ASKEW, DODGER, and Soldiers. They pass over the stage; RALPH falls in amongst them; FIRK and the rest cry “Farewell,” etc., and so exeunt.

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Act II, Scene I — [2113]

Enter ROSE, alone, making a garland.

Rose. Here sit thou down upon this flow’ry bank And make a garland for thy Lacy’s head. These pinks, these roses, and these violets, These blushing gilliflowers, these marigolds, The fair embroidery of his coronet, 5 Carry not half such beauty in their cheeks, As the sweet count’nance of my Lacy doth. O my most unkind father! O my stars, Why lower’d you so at my nativity, To make me love, yet live robb’d of my love? Here as a thief am I imprisoned 11 For my dear Lacy’s sake within those walls, Which by my father’s cost were builded up For better purposes. Here must I languish For him that doth as much lament, I know, 15 Mine absence, as for him I pine in woe.

Enter SYBIL.

Sybil. Good morrow, young mistress. I am sure you make that garland for me, against[2114] I shall be Lady of the Harvest.

Rose. Sybil, what news at London? 20

Sybil. None but good; my lord mayor, your father, and master Philpot, your uncle, and Master Scot, your cousin, and Mistress Frigbottom by Doctors’ Commons, do all, by my troth, send you most hearty commendations. 25

Rose. Did Lacy send kind greetings to his love?

Sybil. O yes, out of cry, by my troth. I scant knew him; here ’a wore a scarf; and here a scarf, here a bunch of feathers, and here precious stones and jewels, and a pair (30) of garters,—O, monstrous! like one of our yellow silk curtains at home here in Old Ford House here, in Master Belly-mount’s chamber. I stood at our door in Cornhill, look’d at him, he at me indeed, spake to him, but he not (35) to me, not a word; marry go-up, thought I, with a wanion![2115] He pass’d by me as proud —Marry foh! are you grown humorous,[2116] thought I; and so shut the door, and in I came.

Rose. O Sybil, how dost thou my Lacy wrong! 40 My Rowland is as gentle as a lamb, No dove was ever half so mild as he.

Sybil. Mild? yea, as a bushel of stamp crabs.[2117] He lookt upon me as sour as verjuice.[2118] Go thy ways, thought I, thou may’st be much (45) in my gaskins,[2119] but nothing in my nether-stocks.[2120] This is your fault, mistress, to love him that loves not you; he thinks scorn to do as he ’s done to; but if I were as you, I ’d cry, “Go by, Jeronimo, go by!”[2121] 50 I ’d set mine old debts against my new driblets, And the hare’s foot against the goose giblets, For if ever I sigh, when sleep I should take, Pray God I may lose my maidenhead when I wake.

Rose. Will my love leave me then, and go to France? 55

Sybil. I know not that, but I am sure I see him stalk before the soldiers. By my troth, he is a proper[2122] man; but he is proper that proper doth. Let him go snick-up,[2123] young mistress. 60

Rose. Get thee to London, and learn perfectly Whether my Lacy go to France, or no. Do this, and I will give thee for thy pains My cambric apron and my Romish gloves, My purple stockings and a stomacher. 65 Say, wilt thou do this, Sybil, for my sake?

Sybil. Will I, quoth ’a? At whose suit? By my troth, yes, I ’ll go. A cambric apron, gloves, a pair of purple stockings, and a stomacher! I ’ll sweat in purple, mistress, for you; (70) I ’ll take anything that comes a’ God’s name. O rich! a cambric apron! Faith, then have at ‘up tails all.’ I ’ll go jiggy-joggy to London, and be here in a trice, young mistress. Exit.

Rose. Do so, good Sybil. Meantime wretched I Will sit and sigh for his lost company. Exit. 75

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Act II, Scene II — [2124]

Enter LACY, like a Dutch Shoemaker.

Lacy. How many shapes have gods and kings devis’d, Thereby to compass their desired loves! It is no shame for Rowland Lacy, then, To clothe his cunning with the gentle craft, That, thus disguis’d, I may unknown possess 5 The only happy presence of my Rose. For her have I forsook my charge in France, Incurr’d the king’s displeasure, and stirr’d up Rough hatred in mine uncle Lincoln’s breast. O love, how powerful art thou, that canst change High birth to baseness, and a noble mind 11 To the mean semblance of a shoemaker! But thus it must be; for her cruel father, Hating the single union of our souls, 14 Has secretly convey’d my Rose from London, To bar me of her presence; but I trust, Fortune and this disguise will further me Once more to view her beauty, gain her sight. Here in Tower Street with Eyre the shoemaker Mean I a while to work; I know the trade, 20 I learnt it when I was in Wittenberg. Then cheer thy hoping spirits, be not dismay’d, Thou canst not want: do Fortune what she can, The gentle craft is living for a man. Exit.

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Act II, Scene III — [2125]

Enter EYRE, making himself ready.[2126]

Eyre. Where be these boys, these girls, these drabs, these scoundrels? They wallow in the fat brewiss[2127] of my bounty, and lick up the crumbs of my table, yet will not rise to see my walks cleansed. Come out, you powder-beef[2128] queans! What, Nan! what, Madge Mumble-crust. (6) Come out, you fat midriff-swag-belly-whores, and sweep me these kennels[2129] that the noisome stench offend not the noses of my neighbours. What, Firk, I say; what, Hodge! Open my (10) shop windows! What, Firk, I say!

Enter FIRK.

Firk. O master, is ’t you that speak bandog[2130] and Bedlam[2131] this morning? I was in a dream, and mused what madman was got into the street so early. Have you drunk this morning that (15) your throat is so clear?

Eyre. Ah, well said, Firk; well said, Firk. To work, my fine knave, to work! Wash thy face, and thou ’t be more blest.

Firk. Let them wash my face that will eat (20) it. Good master, send for a souse-wife,[2132] if you’ll have my face cleaner.

Enter HODGE.

Eyre. Away, sloven! avaunt, scoundrel!—Good-morrow, Hodge; good-morrow, my fine foreman. 25

Hodge. O master, good-morrow; y’ are an early stirrer. Here ’s a fair morning.—Good-morrow, Firk, I could have slept this hour. Here ’s a brave day towards.[2133]

Eyre. Oh, haste to work, my fine foreman, (30) haste to work.

Firk. Master, I am dry as dust to hear my fellow Roger talk of fair weather; let us pray for good leather, and let clowns and plough-boys and those that work in the fields pray (35) for brave days. We work in a dry shop; what care I if it rain?

Enter EYRE’S wife [MARGERY].

Eyre. How now, Dame Margery, can you see to rise? Trip and go, call up the drabs, your maids. 40

Marg. See to rise? I hope ’t is time enough, ’t is early enough for any woman to be seen abroad. I marvel how many wives in Tower Street are up so soon. Gods me, ’t is not noon,—here ’s a yawling![2134] 45

Eyre. Peace, Margery, peace! Where ’s Cicely Bumtrinket, your maid? She has a privy fault, she farts in her sleep. Call the quean up; if my men want shoe-thread, I ’ll swinge her in a stirrup. 50

Firk. Yet, that ’s but a dry beating; here ’s still a sign of drought.

Enter LACY [disguised], singing.

_Lacy. Der was een bore van Gelderland Frolick sie byen; He was als dronck he cold nyet stand, Upsolce sie byen. 56 Tap eens de canneken, Drincke, schone mannekin._[2135]

Firk. Master, for my life, yonder’s a brother (59) of the gentle craft; if he bear not Saint Hugh’s bones,[2136] I ’ll forfeit my bones; he ’s some uplandish workman: hire him, good master, that I may learn some gibble-gabble; ’t will make us work the faster. 64

Eyre. Peace, Firk! A hard world! Let him pass, let him vanish; we have journeymen enow. Peace, my fine Firk!

Marg. Nay, nay, y’ are best follow your man’s counsel; you shall see what will come on ’t. We have not men enow, but we must entertain (70) every butter-box;[2137] but let that pass.

Hodge. Dame, ’fore God, if my master follow your counsel, he ’ll consume little beef. He shall be clad of men an he can catch them.

Firk. Ay, that he shall. 75

Hodge. ’Fore God, a proper man, and I warrant, a fine workman. Master, farewell; dame, adieu; if such a man as he cannot find work, Hodge is not for you. Offers to go.

Eyre. Stay, my fine Hodge. 80

Firk. Faith, an your foreman go, dame, you must take a journey to seek a new journeyman; if Roger remove, Firk follows. If Saint Hugh’s bones shall not be set a-work, I may prick mine all in the walls, and go play. Fare ye well, master; good-bye, dame. 86

Eyre. Tarry, my fine Hodge, my brisk foreman! Stay, Firk! Peace, pudding-broth! By the Lord of Ludgate, I love my men as my life. Peace, you gallimaufry![2138] Hodge, if he (90) want work, I ’ll hire him. One of you to him; stay,—he comes to us.

Lacy. Goeden dach, meester, ende u vro oak.[2139]

Firk. Nails,[2140] if I should speak after him without drinking, I should choke. And you, (95) friend Oake, are you of the gentle craft?

Lacy. Yaw, yaw, ik bin den skomawker.[2141]

Firk. Den skomaker, quoth ’a! And hark you, skomaker, have you all your tools, a good rubbing-pin, a good stopper, a good dresser, your (100) four sorts of awls, and your two balls of wax, your paring knife, your hand-and-thumb-leathers, and good St. Hugh’s bones to smooth up your work? 104

Lacy. Yaw, yaw; be niet vorveard. Ik hab all de dingen voour mack skooes groot and cleane.[2142]

Firk. Ha, ha! Good master, hire him; he ’ll make me laugh so that I shall work more in mirth than I can in earnest.

Eyre. Hear ye, friend, have ye any skill in (110) the mystery[2143] of cordwainers?

Lacy. Ik weet niet wat yow seg; ich verstaw you niet.[2144]

Firk. Why, thus, man: [Imitating by gesture (114) a shoemaker at work.] Ich verste u niet, quoth ’a.

Lacy. Yaw, yaw, yaw; ick can dat wel doen.[2145]

Firk. Yaw, yaw! He speaks yawing like a jackdaw that gapes to be fed with cheese-curds. Oh, he ’ll give a villanous pull at a (120) can of double-beer; but Hodge and I have the vantage, we must drink first, because we are the eldest journeymen.

Eyre. What is thy name?

Lacy. Hans—Hans Meulter. 125

Eyre. Give me thy hand; th’ art welcome.— Hodge, entertain him; Firk, bid him welcome; come, Hans. Run, wife, bid your maids, your trullibubs,[2146] make ready my fine men’s breakfasts. To him, Hodge! 130

Hodge. Hans, th’ art welcome; use thyself friendly, for we are good fellows; if not, thou shalt be fought with, wert thou bigger than a giant.

Firk. Yea, and drunk with, wert thou Gargantua. (135) My master keeps no cowards, I tell thee.—Ho, boy, bring him an heel-block, here ’s a new journeyman.

[Enter Boy.]

Lacy. O, ich wersto you; ich moet een halve dossen cans betaelen; here, boy, nempt dis skilling, tap eens freelicke.[2147] [Exit Boy.] 141

Eyre. Quick, snipper-snapper, away! Firk, scour thy throat; thou shalt wash it with Castilian liquor. [Enter Boy.] Come, my last of the fives, give me a can. Have to thee, Hans; here, Hodge; here, Firk; (146) drink, you mad Greeks, and work like true Trojans, and pray for Simon Eyre, the shoemaker.—Here, Hans, and th’ art welcome.

Firk. Lo, dame, you would have lost a good fellow that will teach us to laugh. This (151) beer came hopping in well.

Marg. Simon, it is almost seven.

Eyre. Is ’t so. Dame Clapper-dudgeon?[2148] Is ’t seven a clock, and my men’s breakfast not ready? Trip and go, you sous’d conger,[2149] (156) away! Come, you mad hyperboreans; follow me, Hodge; follow me, Hans; come after, my fine Firk; to work, to work a while, and then to breakfast. Exit.

Firk. Soft! Yaw, yaw, good Hans, though (161) my master have no more wit but to call you afore me, I am not so foolish to go behind you, I being the elder journeyman. Exeunt.

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Act II, Scene IV — [2150]

[Halloaing within.] Enter WARNER and HAMMON, like Hunters.

Ham. Cousin, beat every brake, the game ’s not far, This way with winged feet he fled from death, Whilst the pursuing hounds, scenting his steps, Find out his highway to destruction. Besides, the miller’s boy told me even now, 5 He saw him take soil,[2151] and he halloaed him, Affirming him to have been so embost[2152] That long he could not hold.

Warn. If it be so, ’T is best we trace these meadows by Old Ford.

[A noise of Hunters within. Enter a Boy.]

Ham. How now, boy? Where’s the deer? speak, saw’st thou him? 11

Boy. O yea; I saw him leap through a hedge, and then over a ditch, then at my lord mayor’s pale, over he skipt me, and in he went me, and “holla” the hunters cried, and “there, (15) boy; there, boy!” But there he is, a’ mine honesty.

Ham. Boy. Godamercy. Cousin, let ’s away; I hope we shall find better sport to-day. 19 Exeunt.

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Act II, Scene V — [2153]

[Hunting within.] Enter ROSE and SYBIL.

Rose. Why, Sybil, wilt thou prove a forester?

Sybil. Upon some, no. Forester? Go by; no, faith, mistress. The deer came running into the barn through the orchard and over the pale; I wot well, I lookt as pale as a new cheese to see him. But whip, says Goodman Pinclose, (6) up with his flail, and our Nick with a prong, and down he fell, and they upon him, and I upon them. By my troth, we had such sport; and in the end we ended him; his throat we cut, flay’d him, unhorn’d him, and my (11) lord mayor shall eat of him anon, when he comes. Horns sound within.

Rose. Hark, hark, the hunters come; y’ are best take heed, They ’ll have a saying to you for this deed. 15

Enter HAMMON, WARNER, Huntsmen, and Boy.

Ham. God save you, fair ladies.

Sybil. Ladies! O gross![2154]

Warn. Came not a buck this way?

Rose. No, but two does.

Ham. And which way went they? Faith, we ’ll hunt at those.

Sybil. At those? Upon some, no. When, can you tell?

Warn. Upon some, ay.

Sybil. Good Lord!

Warn. Wounds![2155] Then farewell! 20

Ham. Boy, which way went he?

Boy. This way, sir, he ran.

Ham. This way he ran indeed, fair Mistress Rose; Our game was lately in your orchard seen.

Warn. Can you advise, which way he took his flight?

Sybil. Follow your nose; his horns will guide you right. 25

Warn. Th’ art a mad wench.

Sybil. O, rich!

Rose. Trust me, not I. It is not like that the wild forest-deer Would come so near to places of resort; You are deceiv’d, he fled some other way.

Warn. Which way, my sugar-candy, can you shew? 30

Sybil. Come up, good honeysops, upon some, no.

Rose. Why do you stay, and not pursue your game?

Sybil. I ’ll hold my life, their hunting-nags be lame.

Ham. A deer more dear is found within this place.

Rose. But not the deer, sir, which you had in chase. 35

Ham. I chas’d the deer, but this dear chaseth me.

Rose. The strangest hunting that ever I see. But where ’s your park? She offers to go away.

Ham. ’T is here: O stay!

Rose. Impale me, and then I will not stray.

Warn. They wrangle, wench; we are more kind than they. 40

Sybil. What kind of hart is that dear heart you seek?

Warn. A hart, dear heart.

Sybil. Who ever saw the like?

Rose. To lose your heart, is ’t possible you can?

Ham. My heart is lost.

Rose. Alack, good gentleman!

Ham. This poor lost heart would I wish you might find. 45

Rose. You, by such luck, might prove your hart a hind.

Ham. Why Luck had horns, so have I heard some say.

Rose. Now, God, an ’t be his will, send Luck into your way.

Enter the LORD MAYOR and Servants.

L. Mayor. What. Master Hammon? Welcome to Old Ford!

Sybil. Gods pittikins,[2156] hands off, sir! Here ’s my lord. 50

L. Mayor. I hear you had ill luck, and lost your game.

Ham. ’T is true, my lord.

L. Mayor. I am sorry for the same. What gentleman is this?

Ham. My brother-in-law.

L. Mayor. Y’ are welcome both; sith Fortune offers you Into my hands, you shall not part from hence, Until you have refresht your wearied limbs. 56 Go, Sybil, cover the board! You shall be guest To no good cheer, but even a hunter’s feast.

Ham. I thank your lordship.—Cousin, on my life, For our lost venison I shall find a wife. 60 Exeunt [all but MAYOR].

L. Mayor. In, gentlemen; I ’ll not be absent long.— This Hammon is a proper gentleman, A citizen by birth, fairly allied; How fit an husband were he for my girl! Well, I will in, and do the best I can, 65 To match my daughter to this gentleman. Exit.

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Act III, Scene I — [2157]

Enter LACY [as HANS], Skipper, HODGE, and FIRK.

Skip. Ick sal yow wat seggen, Hans; dis skip dot comen from Candy, is all vol, by Got’s sacrament, van sugar, civet, almonds, cambrick, end alle dingen, towsand towsand ding. Nempt it, Hans, nempt it vor u meester. Daer be de bils (5) van laden. Your meester Simon Eyre sal hae good copen. Wat seggen yow, Hans?[2158]

Firk. Wat seggen de reggen de copen, slopen—laugh, Hodge, laugh! 9

Hans. Mine liever broder Firk, bringt Meester Eyre tot del signe un Swannekin; daer sal yow finde dis skipper end me. Wat seggen yow, broder Firk? Doot it, Hodge.[2159] Come, skipper. Exeunt.

Firk. Bring him, quoth you? Here ’s no (14) knavery, to bring my master to buy a ship north the lading of two or three hundred thousand pounds. Alas, that’s nothing; a trifle, a bauble, Hodge.

Hodge. The truth is, Firk, that the merchant owner of the ship dares not shew his head, (20) and therefore this skipper that deals for him, for the love he bears to Hans, offers my master Eyre a bargain in the commodities. He shall have a reasonable day of payment; he may sell (24) the wares by that time, and be an huge gainer himself.

Firk. Yea, but can my fellow Hans lend my master twenty porpentines as an earnest penny?

Hodge. Portuguese, thou wouldst say; here (29) they be, Firk; hark, they jingle in my pocket like St. Mary Overy’s bells.

Enter EYRE and his Wife [MARGERY].

Firk. Mum, here comes my dame and my master. She ’ll scold, on my life, for loitering this Monday; but all ’s one, let them all say what they can, Monday ’s our holiday. 35

Marg. You sing, Sir Sauce, but I beshrew your heart. I fear, for this your singing we shall smart.

Firk. Smart for me, dame; why, dame, why?

Hodge. Master, I hope you ’ll not suffer my dame to take down your journeymen. 40

Firk. If she take me down, I ’ll take her up? yea, and take her down too, a button-hole lower.

Eyre. Peace, Firk; not I, Hodge; by the life of Pharaoh, by the Lord of Ludgate, by this beard, every hair whereof I value at a (45) king’s ransom, she shall not meddle with you.—Peace, you bombast-cotton-candle-quean; away, queen of clubs; quarrel not with me and my men, with me and my fine Firk; I ’ll firk you, if you do. 50

Marg. Yea, yea, man, you may use me as you please; but let that pass.

Eyre. Let it pass, let it vanish away; peace! Am I not Simon Eyre? Are not these my (54) brave men, brave shoemakers, all gentlemen of the gentle craft? Prince am I none, yet am I nobly born, as being the sole son of a shoemaker. Away, rubbish! vanish, melt; melt; like kitchen-stuff. 59

Marg. Yea, yea, ’t is well; I must be call’d rubbish, kitchen-stuff, for a sort[2160] of knaves.

Firk. Nay, dame, you shall not weep and wail in woe for me. Master, I ’ll stay no longer; here ’s an inventory of my shop-tools. Adieu, master; Hodge, farewell. 65

Hodge. Nay, stay, Firk; thou shall not go alone.

Marg. I pray, let them go; there be moe maids than Mawkin, more men than Hodge, and more fools than Firk. 70

Firk. Fools? Nails! if I tarry now, I would my guts might be turn’d to shoe-thread.

Hodge. And if I stay, I pray God I may be turn’d to a Turk, and set in Finsbury[2161] for boys to shoot at.—Come, Firk. 75

Eyre. Stay, my fine knaves, you arms of my trade, you pillars of my profession. What, shall a tittle-tattle’s words make you forsake Simon Eyre?—Avaunt, kitchen-stuff! Rip, you brown-bread Tannikin; out of my sight! Move me not! Have not I ta’en you from selling 81 tripes in Eastcheap, and set you in my shop, and made you hail-fellow with Simon Eyre, the shoemaker? And now do you deal thus (84) with my journeymen? Look, you powder-beef-quean, on the face of Hodge, here ’s a face for a lord.

Firk. And here ’s a face for any lady in Christendom. 89

Eyre. Rip, you chitterling, avaunt! Boy, bid the tapster of the Boar’s Head fill me a dozen cans of beer for my journeymen.

Firk. A dozen cans? O, brave! Hodge, now I ’ll stay.

Eyre. [in a low voice to the Boy.] An the (95) knave fills any more than two, he pays for them. [Exit Boy. Aloud.]—A dozen cans of beer for my journeymen. [Re-enter Boy.] Here, you mad Mesopotamians, wash your livers (99) with this liquor. Where be the odd ten?—No more, Madge, no more.—Well said.[2162] Drink and to work!—What work dost thou, Hodge? What work?

Hodge. I am a making a pair of shoes for my lord mayor’s daughter, Mistress Rose. 105

Firk. And I a pair of shoes for Sybil, my lord’s maid. I deal with her.

Eyre. Sybil? Fie, defile not thy fine work-manly fingers with the feet of kitchenstuff (109) and basting-ladles. Ladies of the court, fine ladies, my lads, commit their feet to our apparelling; put gross work to Hans. Yark[2163] and seam, yark and seam!

Firk. For yarking and seaming let me alone, an I come to’t. 115

Hodge. Well, master, all this is from the bias.[2164] Do you remember the ship my fellow Hans told you of? The skipper and he are both drinking at the Swan. Here be the Portuguese (119) to give earnest. If you go through with it, you cannot choose but be a lord at least.

Firk. Nay, dame, if my master prove not a lord, and you a lady, hang me.

Marg. Yea, like enough, if you may loiter and tipple thus. 125

Firk. Tipple, dame? No, we have been bargaining with Skellum Skanderbag:[2165] can you Dutch spreaken for a ship of silk Cyprus, laden with sugar-candy. 129

Enter Boy with a velvet coat and an Alderman’s gown. EYRE puts them on.

Eyre. Peace, Firk; silence, Tittle-tattle! Hodge, I’ll go through with it. Here’s a seal-ring, and I have sent for a guarded gown[2166] and a damask cassock. See where it comes; look here, Maggy; help me, Firk; apparel me, Hodge; silk and satin, you mad Philistines, 135 silk and satin.

Firk. Ha, ha, my master will be as proud as a dog in a doublet, all in beaten[2167] damask and velvet. 139

Eyre. Softly, Firk, for rearing[2168] of the nap, and wearing threadbare my garments. How dost thou like me, Firk? How do I look, my fine Hodge?

Hodge. Why, now you look like yourself, master. I warrant you, there ’s few in the (146) city but will give you the wall,[2169] and come upon you with[2170] the right worshipful.

Firk. Nails, my master looks like a threadbare cloak new turn’d and drest. Lord, Lord, (149) to see what good raiment doth! Dame, dame, are you not enamoured?

Eyre. How say’st thou, Maggy, am I not brisk? Am I not fine?

Marg. Fine? By my troth, sweetheart, very fine! By my troth, I never likt thee so well (155) in my life, sweetheart: but let that pass. I warrant, there be many women in the city have not such handsome husbands, but only for their apparel; but let that pass too. 159

Re-enter HANS and SKIPPER.

Hans. Godden day, mester. Dis be de skipper dat heb de skip van marchandice; de commodity ben good; nempt it, master, nempt it.[2171]

Eyre. Godamercy, Hans; welcome, skipper. Where lies this ship of merchandise? 164

Skip. De skip ben in revere; dor be van sugar, civet, almonds, cambrick, and a towsand, towsand tings, gotz sacrament; nempt it, mester: ye sal heb good copen.[2172]

Firk. To him, master! O sweet master! (169) O sweet wares! Prunes, almonds, sugar-candy, carrot-roots, turnips, O brave fatting meat! Let not a man buy a nutmeg but yourself.

Eyre. Peace, Firk! Come, skipper, I’ll go aboard with you.—Hans, have you made him drink? 175

Skip. Yaw, yaw, ic heb veale gedrunck.[2173]

Eyre. Come, Hans, follow me. Skipper, thou shalt have my countenance in the city. Exeunt.

Firk. Yaw heb veale gedrunck, quoth ’a. They may well be called butter-boxes, when (180) they drink fat veal and thick beer too. But come, dame, I hope you’ll chide us no more.

Marg. No, faith, Firk; no, perdy,[2174] Hodge. I do feel honour creep upon me, and which is more, a certain rising in my flesh; but let that pass. 186

Firk. Rising in your flesh do you feel, say you? Ay, you may be with child, but why should not my master feel a rising in his flesh, having a gown and a gold ring on? But you are such a shrew, you ’ll soon pull him down. 191

Marg. Ha, ha! prithee, peace! Thou mak’st my worship laugh; but let that pass. Come, I’ll go in; Hodge, prithee, go before me; Firk, follow me. 195

Firk. Firk doth follow: Hodge, pass out in state. Exeunt.

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Act III, Scene II — [2175]

Enter the EARL OF LINCOLN and DODGER.

Linc. How now, good Dodger, what’s the news in France?

Dodger. My lord, upon the eighteenth day of May The French and English were prepar’d to fight; Each side with eager fury gave the sign Of a most hot encounter. Five long hours 5 Both armies fought together; at the length The lot of victory fell on our side. Twelve thousand of the Frenchmen that day died, Four thousand English, and no man of name But Captain Hyam and young Ardington, 10 Two gallant gentlemen, I knew them well.

Linc. But Dodger, prithee, tell me, in this fight How did my cousin Lacy bear himself?

Dodger. My lord, your cousin Lacy was not there.

Linc. Not there?

Dodger. No, my good lord.

Linc. Sure, thou mistakest. 15 I saw him shipp’d, and a thousand eyes beside Were witnesses of the farewells which he gave, When I, with weeping eyes, bid him adieu. Dodger, take heed.

Dodger. My lord, I am advis’d[2176] That what I spake is true: to prove it so, 20 His cousin Askew, that suppli’d his place, Sent me for him from France, that secretly He might convey himself thither.

Linc. Is ’t even so? Dares he so carelessly venture his life Upon the indignation of a king? 25 Has he despis’d my love, and spurn’d those favours Which I with prodigal hand pour’d on his head? He shall repent his rashness with his soul; Since of my love he makes no estimate, I ’ll make him wish he had not known my hate. 30 Thou hast no other news?

Dodger. None else, my lord.

Linc. None worse I know thou hast.—Procure the king To crown his giddy brows with ample honours, Send him chief colonel, and all my hope 34 Thus to be dash’d! But ’t is in vain to grieve, One evil cannot a worse relieve. Upon my life, I have found out his plot; That old dog, Love, that fawn’d upon him so, Love to that puling girl, his fair-cheek’d Rose, The lord mayor’s daughter, hath distracted him, 40 And in the fire of that love’s lunacy Hath he burnt up himself, consum’d his credit, Lost the king’s love, yea, and I fear, his life, Only to get a wanton to his wife, Dodger, it is so.

Dodger. I fear so, my good lord. 45

Linc. It is so—nay, sure it cannot be! I am at my wits’ end, Dodger!

Dodger. Yea, my lord.

Linc. Thou art acquainted with my nephew’s haunts, Spend this gold for thy pains; go seek him out. Watch at my lord mayor’s—there if he live, 50 Dodger, thou shalt be sure to meet with him. Prithee, be diligent.—Lacy, thy name Liv’d once in honour, now ’t is dead in shame.— Be circumspect. Exit.

Dodger. I warrant you, my lord. Exit.

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Act III, Scene III — [2177]

Enter the L. MAYOR and MASTER SCOTT.

L. Mayor. Good Master Scott, I have been bold with you, To be a witness to a wedding-knot Betwixt young Master Hammon and my daughter. O, stand aside; see where the lovers come.

Enter MASTER HAMMON and ROSE.

Rose. Can it be possible you love me so? 5 No, no, within those eyeballs I espy Apparent likelihoods of flattery. Pray now, let go my hand.

Ham. Sweet Mistress Rose, Misconstrue not my words, nor misconceive Of my affection, whose devoted soul 10 Swears that I love thee dearer than my heart.

Rose. As dear as your own heart? I judge it right, Men love their hearts best when th’ are out of sight.

Ham. I love you, by this hand.

Rose. Yet hands off now! If flesh be frail, how weak and frail ’s your vow!

Ham. Then by my life I swear.

Rose. Then do not brawl; 16 One quarrel loseth wife and life and all. Is not your meaning thus?

Ham. In faith, you jest.

Rose. Love loves to sport; therefore leave love, y’ are best.

L. Mayor. What? square[2178] they, Master Scott?

Scott. Sir, never doubt, 20 Lovers are quickly in, and quickly out.

Ham. Sweet Rose, be not so strange in fancying me. Nay, never turn aside, shun not my sight: I am not grown so fond, to fond[2179] my love On any that shall quit it with disdain; 25 If you will love me, so;—if not, farewell.

L. Mayor. Why, how now, lovers, are you both agreed?

Ham. Yes, faith, my lord.

L. Mayor. ’T is well, give me your hand. Give me yours, daughter.—How now, both pull back! What means this, girl?

Rose. I mean to live a maid. 30

Ham. (Aside.) But not to die one; pause, ere that be said.

L. Mayor. Will you still cross me, still be obstinate?

Ham. Nay, chide her not, my lord, for doing well; If she can live an happy virgin’s life, ’T is far more blessed than to be a wife. 35

Rose. Say, sir, I cannot: I have made a vow, Whoever be my husband, ’t is not you.

L. Mayor. Your tongue is quick; but Master Hammon, know, I bade you welcome to another end.

Ham. What, would you have me pule and pine and pray, 40 With “lovely lady,” “mistress of my heart,” “Pardon your servant,” and the rhymer play, Railing on Cupid and his tyrant’s-dart; Or shall I undertake some martial spoil, Wearing your glove at tourney and at tilt, 45 And tell how many gallants I unhors’d— Sweet, will this pleasure you?

Rose. Yea, when wilt begin? What, love rhymes, man? Fie on that deadly sin!

L. Mayor. If you will have her, I’ll make her agree.

Ham. Enforced love is worse than hate to me. [Aside.] There is a wench keeps shop in the Old Change, 51 To her will I—it is not wealth I seek. I have enough—and will prefer her love Before the world.—[Aloud.] My good lord mayor, adieu, Old love for me, I have no luck with new. Exit.

L. Mayor. Now, mammet,[2180] you have well behav’d yourself, 56 But you shall curse your coyness if I live.— Who’s within there? See you convey your mistress Straight to th’ Old Ford! I’ll keep you straight enough, Fore God, I would have sworn the puling girl Would willingly accepted Hammon’s love; 61 But banish him, my thoughts!—Go, minion, in! Exit ROSE. Now tell me, Master Scott, would you have thought That Master Simon Eyre, the shoemaker, Had been of wealth to buy such merchandise?

Scott. ’T was well, my lord, your honour and myself 66 Grew partners with him; for your bills of lading Shew that Eyre’s gains in one commodity Rise at the least to full three thousand pound Besides like gain in other merchandise. 70

L. Mayor. Well, he shall spend some of his thousands now, For I have sent for him to the Guildhall. Enter EYRE. See, where he comes.—Good morrow, Master Eyre.

Eyre. Poor Simon Eyre, my lord, your shoemaker.

L. Mayor. Well, well, it likes[2181] yourself to term you so. 75 Enter DODGER. Now Master Dodger, what’s the news with you?

Dodger. I’d gladly speak in private to your honour.

L. Mayor. You shall, you shall.—Master Eyre and Master Scott, I have some business with this gentleman; I pray, let me entreat you to walk before 80 To the Guildhall; I’ll follow presently. Master Eyre, I hope ere noon to call you sheriff.

Eyre. I would not care, my lord, if you might call me King of Spain.—Come, Master Scott. [Exeunt EYRE and SCOTT.]

L. Mayor. Now, Master Dodger, what ’s the news you bring? 85

Dodger. The Earl of Lincoln by me greets your lordship, And earnestly requests you, if you can, Inform him where his nephew Lacy keeps.

L. Mayor. Is not his nephew Lacy now in France?

Dodger. No, I assure your Lordship, but disguis’d 90 Lurks here in London.

L. Mayor. London? Is’t even so? It may be; but upon my faith and soul, I know not where he lives, or whether he lives: So tell my Lord of Lincoln.—Lurk in London? Well, Master Dodger, you perhaps may start him; 95 Be but the means to rid him into France, I’ll give you a dozen angels[2182] for your pains: So much I love his honour, hate his nephew. And, prithee, so inform thy lord from me.

Dodger. I take my leave. Exit DODGER.

L. Mayor. Farewell, good Master Dodger. Lacy in London? I dare pawn my life, 101 My daughter knows thereof, and for that cause Deni’d young Master Hammon in his love. Well, I am glad I sent her to Old Ford. Gods Lord, ’t is late! to Guildhall I must hie; I know my brethren stay[2183] my company. Exit. 106

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Act III, Scene IV — [2184]

Enter FIRK, Eyre’s wife [MARGERY, LACY as] HANS, and ROGER.

Marg. Thou goest too fast for me, Roger. O, Firk.

Firk. Ay, forsooth.

Marg. I pray thee, run—do you hear?—run to Guildhall, and learn if my husband, Master (5) Eyre, will take that worshipful vocation of Master Sheriff upon him. Hie thee, good Firk.

Firk. Take it? Well, I go; an he should not take it, Firk swears to forswear him. Yes, forsooth, I go to Guildhall. 10

Marg. Nay, when? Thou art too compendious and tedious.

Firk. O rare, your excellence is full of eloquence; how like a new cart-wheel my dame speaks, and she looks like an old musty ale-bottle[2185] (15) going to scalding.

Marg. Nay, when? Thou wilt make me melancholy.

Firk. God forbid your worship should fall into that humour;—I run. Exit. 20

Marg. Let me see now, Roger and Hans.

Hodge. Ay, forsooth, dame—mistress, I should say, but the old term so sticks to the roof of my mouth, I can hardly lick it off.

Marg. Even what thou wilt, good Roger; (25) dame is a fair name for any honest Christian; but let that pass. How dost thou, Hans?

Hans. Mee tanck you, vro.[2186]

Marg. Well, Hans and Roger, you see, God hath blest your master, and, perdy, if ever (30) he comes to be Master Sheriff of London—as we are all mortal—you shall see, I will have some odd thing or other in a corner for your: I will not be your back-friend;[2187] but let that pass. Hans, pray thee, tie my shoe. 35

Hans. Yaw, ic sal, vro.[2188]

Marg. Roger, thou know’st the length of my foot; as it is none of the biggest, so I thank God, it is handsome enough; prithee, let me have a pair of shoes made, cork, good Roger, (40) wooden heel too.

Hodge. You shall.

Marg. Art thou acquainted with never a farthingale-maker, nor a French hood-maker? I must enlarge my bum, ha, ha! How shall (45) I look in a hood, I wonder! Perdy, oddly I think.

Hodge. [Aside.] As a cat out of a pillory.— Very well, I warrant you, mistress.

Marg. Indeed, all flesh is grass; and, (50) Roger, canst thou tell where I may buy a good hair?

Hodge. Yes, forsooth, at the poulterer’s in Gracious Street.

Marg. Thou art an ungracious wag: perdy, (55) I mean a false hair for my periwig.

Hodge. Why, mistress, the next time I cut my beard, you shall have the shavings of it; but they are all true hairs.

Marg. It is very hot, I must get me a fan (60) or else a mask.

Hodge. [Aside.] So you had need, to hide your wicked face.

Marg. Fie, upon it, how costly this world’s calling is; perdy, but that it is one of the wonderful (65) works of God, I would not deal with it.—Is not Firk come yet? Hans, be not so sad, let it pass and vanish, as my husband’s worship says.

Hans. Ick bin vrolicke, lot see yow soo.[2189] 70

Hodge. Mistress, will you drink[2190] a pipe of tobacco?

Marg. Oh, fie upon it, Roger, perdy! These filthy tobacco-pipes are the most idle slavering baubles that ever I felt. Out upon it! God 75 bless us, men look not like men that use them.

Enter RALPH, being lame.

Hodge. What, fellow Ralph? Mistress, look here, Jane’s husband! Why, how now, lame? Hans, make much of him, he’s a brother of our trade, a good workman, and a tall[2191] soldier. 80

Hans. You be welcome, broder.

Marg. Perdy, I knew him not. How dost thou, good Ralph? I am glad to see thee well.

Ralph. I would to God you saw me, dame, as well As when I went from London into France. 85

Marg. Trust me, I am sorry, Ralph, to see thee impotent. Lord, how the wars have made him sunburnt! The left leg is not well; ’t was a fair gift of God the infirmity took not hold a little higher, considering thou camest from (90) France; but let that pass.

Ralph. I am glad to see you well, and I rejoice To hear that God hath blest my master so Since my departure.

Marg. Yea, truly, Ralph, I thank my (95) Maker; but let that pass.

Hodge. And, sirrah Ralph, what news, what news in France?

Ralph. Tell me, good Roger, first, what news in England? How does my Jane? When didst thou see my wife? 100 Where lives my poor heart? She’ll be poor indeed, Now I want limbs to get whereon to feed.

Hodge. Limbs? Hast thou not hands, man? Thou shalt never see a shoemaker want bread, though he have but three fingers on a hand. 105

Ralph. Yet all this while I hear not of my Jane.

Marg. O Ralph, your wife,—perdy, we know not what ’s become of her. She was here a while, and because she was married, grew more stately than became her; I checkt her, and (110) so forth; away she flung, never returned, nor said bye nor bah; and, Ralph, you know, “ka me, ka thee.”[2192] And, so as I tell ye——Roger, is not Firk come yet?

Hodge. No, forsooth. 115

Marg. And so, indeed, we heard not of her, but I hear she lives in London; but let that pass. If she had wanted, she might have opened her case to me or my husband, or to any of my men; I am sure, there’s not any of them, (120) perdy, but would have done her good to his power. Hans, look if Firk be come.

Hans. Yaw, ik sal, vro.[2193] Exit HANS.

Marg. And so, as I said—but, Ralph, why dost thou weep? Thou knowest that naked (125) we came out of our mother’s womb, and naked we must return; and, therefore, thank God for all things.

Hodge. No, faith, Jane is a stranger here; but, Ralph, pull up a good heart. I know thou (130) hast one. Thy wife, man, is in London; one told me, he saw her a while ago very brave[2194] and neat; we’ll ferret her out, an London hold her.

Marg. Alas, poor soul, he’s overcome (135) with sorrow; he does but as I do, weep for the loss of any good thing. But, Ralph, get thee in, call for some meat and drink, thou shalt find me worshipful towards thee.

Ralph. I thank you, dame; since I want limbs and lands, 140 I’ll trust to God, my good friends, and my hands. Exit.

Enter HANS and FIRK running.

Firk. Run, good Hans! O Hodge, O mistress! Hodge, heave up thine ears; mistress, smug up[2195] your looks; on with your best apparel; my master is chosen, my master is called, nay, (145) condemn’d by the cry of the country to be sheriff of the city for this famous year now to come. And, time now being, a great many men in black gowns were askt for their voices and their hands, and my master had all their 150 fists about his ears presently, and they cried ’Ay, ay, ay, ay,’—and so I came away— Wherefore without all other grieve I do salute you, Mistress Shrieve.[2196]

Hans. Yaw, my mester is de groot man, de shrieve. 155

Hodge. Did not I tell you, mistress? Now I may boldly say: Good-morrow to your worship.

Marg. Good-morrow, good Roger. I thank (160) you, my good people all.—Firk, hold up thy hand: here ’s a three-penny piece for thy tidings.

Firk. ’T is but three-half-pence, I think. Yes, ’t is three-pence, I smell the rose.[2197] 165

Hodge. But, mistress, be rul’d by me, and do not speak so pulingly.

Firk. ’T is her worship speaks so, and not she. No, faith, mistress, speak me in the old key: “To it, Firk;” “there, good Firk;” (170) “ply your business, Hodge;” “Hodge, with a full mouth;” “I’ll fill your bellies with good cheer, till they cry twang.”

Enter EYRE wearing a gold chain.

Hans. See, myn liever broder, heer compt my meester.[2198] 175

Marg. Welcome home, Master Shrieve; I pray God continue you in health and wealth.

Eyre. See here, my Maggy, a chain, a gold chain for Simon Eyre. I shall make thee a lady; here’s a French hood for thee; on with (180) it, on with it! dress thy brows with this flap of a shoulder of mutton,[2199] to make thee look lovely. Where be my fine men? Roger, I’ll make over my shop and tools to thee; Firk, thou shalt be the foreman; Hans, thou shalt have (185) an hundred for twenty.[2200] Be as mad knaves as your master Sim Eyre hath been, and you shall live to be sheriffs of London.—How dost thou like me, Margery? Prince am I none, yet (189) am I princely born. Firk, Hodge, and Hans!

All Three. Ay, forsooth, what says your worship, Master Sheriff?

Eyre. Worship and honour, you Babylonian knaves, for the gentle craft. But I forgot myself, I am bidden by my lord mayor to dinner (195) to Old Ford; he’s gone before. I must after. Come, Madge, on with your trinkets! Now, my true Trojans, my fine Firk, my dapper Hodge, my honest Hans, some device, some odd cratchets, some morris, or such like, for the (200) honour of the gentlemen shoemakers. Meet me at Old Ford, you know my mind. Come, Madge, away. Shut up the shop, knaves, and make holiday. Exeunt.

Firk. O rare! O brave! Come, Hodge; follow me, Hans; 206 We’ll be with them for a morris-dance. Exeunt.

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Act III, Scene V — [2201]

Enter the LORD MAYOR, [ROSE,] EYRE, his wife [MARGERY] in a French hood, SYBIL, and other Servants.

L. Mayor. Trust me, you are as welcome to Old Ford As I myself.

Marg. Truly, I thank your lordship.

L. Mayor. Would our bad cheer were worth the thanks you give.

Eyre. Good cheer, my lord mayor, fine cheer! A fine house, fine walls, all fine and neat. 5

L. Mayor. Now, by my troth, I’ll tell thee, Master Eyre, It does me good, and all my brethren, That such a madcap fellow as thyself Is ent’red into our society.

Marg. Ay, but, my lord, he must learn now to put on gravity. 10

Eyre. Peace, Maggy, a fig for gravity! When I go to Guildhall in my scarlet gown, I’ll look as demurely as a saint, and speak as gravely as a justice of peace; but now I am here at Old Ford, at my good lord mayor’s house, let it (15) go by, vanish, Maggy, I’ll be merry; away with flip-flap, these fooleries, these gulleries. What, honey? Prince am I none, yet am I princely born. What says my lord mayor?

L. Mayor. Ha, ha, ha! I had rather than (20) a thousand pound, I had an heart but half so light as yours.

Eyre. Why, what should I do, my lord? A pound of care pays not a dram of debt. Hum, let’s be merry, whiles we are young; old age, (25) sack and sugar will steal upon us, ere we be aware.

THE FIRST THREE MEN’S SONG[2202]

O the month of May, the merry month of May, So frolick, so gay, and so green, so green, so green! O, and then did I unto my true love say 30 “Sweet Peg, thou shalt be my summer’s queen!

“Now the nightingale, the pretty nightingale, The sweetest singer in all the forest’s choir, Entreats thee, sweet Peggy, to hear thy true love’s tale: Lo, yonder she sitteth, her breast against a brier. 35

“But O, I spy the cuckoo, the cuckoo, the cuckoo; See where she sitteth: come away, my joy, Come away, I prithee: I do not like the cuckoo Should sing where my Peggy and I kiss and toy.”

O the month of May, the merry month of May, 40 So frolick, so gay, and so green, so green, so green! And then did I unto my true love say: “Sweet Peg, thou shalt be my summer’s queen!”

L. Mayor. It’s well done. Mistress Eyre, pray, give good counsel To my daughter. 45

Marg. I hope, Mistress Rose will have the grace to take nothing that ’s bad.

L. Mayor. Pray God she do; for i’ faith, Mistress Eyre, I would bestow upon that peevish girl A thousand marks more than I mean to give her Upon condition she’d be rul’d by me. 51 The ape still crosseth me. There came of late A proper gentleman of fair revenues, Whom gladly I would call son-in-law: But my fine cockney would have none of him. You ’ll prove a coxcomb for it, ere you die: 56 A courtier, or no man, must please your eye.

Eyre. Be rul’d, sweet Rose: th’ art ripe for a man. Marry not with a boy that has no more hair on his face than thou hast on thy 60 cheeks. A courtier, wash, go by, stand not upon pishery-pashery: those silken fellows are but painted images, outsides, outsides, Rose; their inner linings are torn. No, my fine mouse, marry me with a gentleman grocer like my lord (65) mayor, your father; a grocer is a sweet trade: plums, plums. Had I a son or daughter should marry out of the generation and blood of the shoemakers, he should pack. What, the gentle trade is a living for a man through Europe, through the world. 71 A noise within of a tabor and a pipe.

L. Mayor. What noise is this?

Eyre. O my lord mayor, a crew of good fellows that for love to your honour are come hither with a morris-dance. Come in, my Mesopotamians, cheerily. 76

Enter HODGE, HANS, RALPH, FIRK, and other Shoemakers, in a morris; after a little dancing, the LORD MAYOR speaks.

L. Mayor. Master Eyre, are all these shoemakers?

Eyre. All cordwainers, my good lord mayor.

Rose. [Aside.] How like my Lacy looks yond shoemaker!

Hans. [Aside.] O that I durst but speak unto my love! 80

L. Mayor. Sybil, go fetch some wine to make these drink. You are all welcome.

All. We thank your lordship. ROSE takes a cup of wine and goes to HANS.

Rose. For his sake whose fair shape thou represent’st, Good friend I drink to thee. 85

Hans. Ic bedancke, good frister.[2203]

Marg. I see. Mistress Rose, you do not want judgment; you have drunk to the properest man I keep.

Firk. Here be some have done their parts to be as proper as he. 91

L. Mayor. Well, urgent business calls me back to London. Good fellows, first go in and taste our cheer; And to make merry as you homeward go, Spend these two angels in beer at Stratford-Bow. 95

Eyre. To these two, my mad lads, Sim Eyre adds another; then cheerily, Firk; tickle it, Hans, and all for the honour of shoemakers. All go dancing out.

L. Mayor. Come, Master Eyre, let ’s have your company. Exeunt.

Rose. Sybil, what shall I do? 100

Sybil. Why, what ’s the matter?

Rose. That Hans the shoemaker is my love Lacy, Disguis’d in that attire to find me out. How should I find the means to speak with him? 104

Sybil. What, mistress, never fear; I dare venture my maidenhead to nothing, and that ’s great odds, that Hans the Dutchman, when we come to London, shall not only see and speak with you, but in spite of all your father’s policies steal you away and marry you. Will not this please you? 111

Rose. Do this, and ever be assured of my love.

Sybil. Away, then, and follow your father to London, lest your absence cause him to suspect something: 115 To-morrow, if my counsel be obey’d, I’ll bind you prentice to the gentle trade. [Exeunt.]

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Act IV, Scene I — [2204]

JANE in a Seamster’s shop, working; enter MASTER HAMMON, muffled: he stands aloof.

Ham. Yonder ’s the shop, and there my fair love sits. She ’s fair and lovely, but she is not mine. O, would she were! Thrice have I courted her, Thrice hath my hand been moist’ned with her hand, Whilst my poor famisht eyes do feed on that 5 Which made them famish. I am unfortunate: I still love one, yet nobody loves me. I muse in other men what women see That I so want! Fine Mistress Rose was coy, And this too curious![2205] Oh, no, she is chaste, 10 And for she thinks me wanton, she denies To cheer my cold heart with her sunny eyes. How prettily she works! Oh pretty hand! Oh happy work! It doth me good to stand Unseen to see her. Thus I oft have stood 15 In frosty evenings, a light burning by her, Enduring biting cold, only to eye her. One only look hath seem’d as rich to me As a king’s crown; such is love’s lunacy. Muffled I ’ll pass along, and by that try 20 Whether she know me.

Jane. Sir, what is ’t you buy? What is ’t you lack, sir, calico, or lawn, Fine cambric shirts, or bands, what will you buy?

Ham. [Aside.] That which thou wilt not sell. Faith, yet I ’ll try:— How do you sell this handkerchief?

Jane. Good cheap. 25

Ham. And how these ruffs?

Jane. Cheap too.

Ham. And how this band?

Jane. Cheap too.

Ham. All cheap; how sell you then this hand?

Jane. My hands are not to be sold.

Ham. To be given then! Nay, faith, I come to buy.

Jane. But none knows when.

Ham. Good sweet, leave work a little while; let’s play. 30

Jane. I cannot live by keeping holiday.

Ham. I’ll pay you for the time which shall be lost.

Jane. With me you shall not be at so much cost.

Ham. Look, how you wound this cloth, so you wound me.

Jane. It may be so.

Ham. ’T is so.

Jane. What remedy? 35

Ham. Nay, faith, you are too coy.

Jane. Let go my hand.

Ham. I will do any task at your command, I would let go this beauty, were I not In mind to disobey you by a power That controls kings: I love you!

Jane. So, now part. 40

Ham. With hands I may, but never with my heart. In faith, I love you.

Jane. I believe you do.

Ham. Shall a true love in me breed hate in you?

Jane. I hate you not.

Ham. Then you must love?

Jane. I do. What are you better now? I love not you. 45

Ham. All this, I hope, is but a woman’s fray, That means, “Come to me,” when she cries, “Away!” In earnest, mistress, I do not jest, A true chaste love hath ent’red in my breast. I love you dearly, as I love my life, 50 I love you as a husband loves a wife; That, and no other love, my love requires. Thy wealth, I know, is little; my desires Thirst not for gold. Sweet, beauteous Jane, what’s mine 54 Shall, if thou make myself thine, all be thine. Say, judge, what is thy sentence, life or death? Mercy or cruelty lies in thy breath.

Jane. Good sir, I do believe you love me well; For ’t is a silly conquest, silly pride For one like you—I mean a gentleman— 60 To boast that by his love-tricks he hath brought Such and such women to his amorous lure; I think you do not so, yet many do, And make it even a very trade to woo. I could be coy, as many women be, 65 Feed you with sunshine smiles and wanton looks, But I detest witchcraft; say that I Do constantly believe, you constant have——

Ham. Why dost thou not believe me?

Jane. I believe you; 69 But yet, good sir, becanse I will not grieve you With hopes to taste fruit which will never fall, In simple truth this is the sum of all: My husband lives, at least, I hope he lives. Prest was he to these bitter wars in France; Bitter they are to me by wanting him. 75 I have but one heart, and that heart ’s his due. How can I then bestow the same on you? Whilst he lives, his I live, be it ne’er so poor, And rather be his wife than a king’s whore.

Ham. Chaste and dear woman, I will not abuse thee, 80 Although it cost my life, if thou refuse me. Thy husband, prest for France, what was his name?

Jane. Ralph Damport.

Ham. Damport?—Here’s a letter sent From France to me, from a dear friend of mine, A gentleman of place; here he doth write 85 Their names that have been slain in every fight.

Jane. I hope death’s scroll contains not my love’s name.

Ham. Cannot you read?

Jane. I can.

Ham. Peruse the same. To my remembrance such a name I read Amongst the rest. See here.

Jane. Ay me, he ’s dead! 90 He’s dead! If this be true, my dear heart ’s slain!

Ham. Have patience, dear love.

Jane. Hence, hence!

Ham. Nay, sweet Jane, Make not poor sorrow proud with these rich tears. I mourn thy husband’s death, because thou mourn’st.

Jane. That bill is forg’d; ’t is sign’d by forgery. 95

Ham. I ’ll bring thee letters sent besides to many, Carrying the like report: Jane, ’t is too true. Come, weep not: mourning, though it rise from love, Helps not the mourned, yet hurts them that mourn.

Jane. For God’s sake, leave me.

Ham. Whither dost thou turn? 100 Forget the dead, love them that are alive; His love is faded, try how mine will thrive.

Jane. ’T is now no time for me to think on love.

Ham. ’T is now best time for you to think on love, Because your love lives not.

Jane. Though he be dead, 105 My love to him shall not be buried; For God’s sake, leave me to myself alone.

Ham. ’T would kill my soul, to leave thee drown’d in moan. Answer me to my suit, and I am gone; Say to me yea or no.

Jane. No.

Ham. Then farewell! 110 One farewell will not serve, I come again; Come, dry these wet cheeks; tell me, faith, sweet Jane, Yea or no, once more.

Jane. Once more I say no; Once more be gone, I pray; else will I go.

Ham. Nay, then I will grow rude, by this white hand, 115 Until you change that cold “no”; here I ’ll stand Till by your hard heart——

Jane. Nay, for God’s love, peace! My sorrows by your presence more increase. Not that you thus are present, but all grief Desires to be alone; therefore in brief 120 Thus much I say, and saying bid adieu: If ever I wed man, it shall be you.

Ham. O blessed voice! Dear Jane, I ’ll urge no more, Thy breath hath made me rich.

Jane. Death makes me poor. Exeunt.

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Act IV, Scene II — [2206]

HODGE, at his shop-board, RALPH, FIRK, HANS, and a Boy at work.

All. Hey, down a down, down derry.

Hodge. Well said, my hearts; ply your work to-day, we loit’red yesterday; to it pell-mell, that we may live to be lord mayors, or aldermen at least. 5

Firk. Hey, down a down, derry.

Hodge. Well said, i’ faith! How say’st thou, Hans, doth not Firk tickle it?

Hans. Yaw, mester.

Firk. Not so neither, my organ-pipe (10) squeaks this morning for want of liquoring. Hey, down a down, derry!

Hans. Forward, Firk, tow best un jolly youngster. Hort, I, mester, ic bid yo, cut me un pair vampres vor Mester Jeffre’s boots.[2207] 15

Hodge. Thou shalt, Hans.

Firk. Master!

Hodge. How now, boy?

Firk. Pray, now you are in the cutting vein, cut me out a pair of counterfeits,[2208] or else (20) my work will not pass current; hey, down a down!

Hodge. Tell me, sirs, are my cousin Mrs. Priscilla’s shoes done? 24

Firk. Your cousin? No, master; one of your aunts, hang her; let them alone.

Ralph. I am in hand with them; she gave charge that none but I should do them for her.

Firk. Thou do for her? Then ’t will be a (29) lame doing, and that she loves not. Ralph, thou might’st have sent her to me, in faith, I would have yarked and firked your Priscilla. Hey, down a down, derry. This gear will not hold.

Hodge. How say’st thou, Firk, were we not merry at Old Ford? 35

Firk. How, merry! Why, our buttocks went jiggy-joggy like a quagmire. Well, Sir Roger Oatmeal, if I thought all meal of that nature, I would eat nothing but bagpuddings. 39

Ralph. Of all good fortunes my fellow Hans had the best.

Firk. ’T is true, because Mistress Rose drank to him.

Hodge. Well, well, work apace. They say, seven of the aldermen be dead, or very sick.

Firk. I care not, I ’ll be none. 45

Ralph. No, nor I; but then my Master Eyre will come quickly to be lord mayor.

Enter SYBIL.

Firk. Whoop, yonder comes Sybil.

Hodge. Sybil, welcome, i’ faith; and how dost thou, mad wench? 50

Firk. Sib-whore, welcome to London.

Sybil. Godamercy, sweet Firk; good lord, Hodge, what a delicious shop you have got! You tickle it, i’ faith. 54

Ralph. Godamercy, Sybil, for our good cheer at Old Ford.

Sybil. That you shall have, Ralph.

Firk. Nay, by the mass, we had tickling cheer, Sybil; and how the plague dost thou (59) and Mistress Rose and my lord mayor? I put the women in first.

Sybil. Well, Godamercy; but God’s me, I forget myself, where ’s Hans the Fleming?

Firk. Hark, butter-box, now you must yelp out some spreken. 64

Hans. Hat begaie you? Vat vod you, Frister?[2209]

Sybil. Marry, you must come to my young mistress, to pull on her shoes you made last.

Hans. Vare ben your egle fro, vare ben your mistris?[2210] 70

Sybil. Marry, here at our London house in Cornhill.

Firk. Will nobody serve her turn but Hans?

Sybil. No, sir. Come, Hans, I stand upon needles. 75

Hodge. Why then, Sybil, take heed of pricking.

Sybil. For that let me alone. I have a trick in my budget. Come, Hans.

Hans. Yaw, yaw, iz sall meete yo gane.[2211] 80 Exit HANS and SYBIL.

Hodge. Go, Hans, make haste again. Come, who lacks work?

Firk. I, master, for I lack my breakfast; ’t is munching-time, and past. 84

Hodge. Is ’t so? Why, then leave work, Ralph. To breakfast! Boy, look to the tools. Come, Ralph; come, Firk. Exeunt.

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Act IV, Scene III — [2212]

Enter a Serving-man.

Serv. Let me see now, the sign of the Last in Tower Street. Mass, yonder ’s the house. What, haw! Who ’s within?

Enter RALPH.

Ralph. Who calls there? What want you, sir? 5

Serv. Marry, I would have a pair of shoes made for a gentlewoman against to-morrow morning. What, can you do them?

Ralph. Yes, sir, you shall have them. But what length ’s her foot? 10

Serv. Why you must make them in all parts like this shoe; but, at any hand, fail not to do them, for the gentlewoman is to be married very early in the morning.

Ralph. How? by this shoe must it be made? By this? Are you sure, sir, by this? 16

Serv. How, by this? Am I sure, by this? Art thou in thy wits? I tell thee, I must have a pair of shoes dost thou mark me? A pair of shoes, two shoes, made by this very shoe, this same (20) shoe, against to-morrow morning by four a clock. Dost understand me? Canst thou do ’t?

Ralph. Yes, sir, yes—I—I—I can do ’t. By this shoe, you say? I should know this shoe. Yes, sir, yes, by this shoe, I can do ’t. Four (25) a clock, well. Whither shall I bring them?

Serv. To the sign of the Golden Ball in Watling Street; enquire for one Master Hammon, a gentleman, my master.

Ralph. Yea, sir; by this shoe, you say? 30

Serv. I say, Master Hammon at the Golden Ball; he ’s the bridegroom, and those shoes are for his bride.

Ralph. They shall be done by this shoe. Well, well. Master Hammon at the Golden Shoe—I would say, the Golden Ball; very well, very 36 well. But I pray you, sir, where must Master Hammon be married?

Serv. At Saint Faith’s Church, under Paul’s. But what ’s that to thee? Prithee, dispatch those shoes, and so farewell. Exit. 41

Ralph. By this shoe, said he. How am I amaz’d At this strange accident! Upon my life, This was the very shoe I gave my wife, When I was prest for France; since when, alas! I never could hear of her. It is the same, 46 And Hammon’s bride no other but my Jane.

Enter FIRK.

Firk. ’Snails,[2213] Ralph, thou hast lost thy part of three pots, a countryman of mine gave me to breakfast. 50

Ralph. I care not; I have found a better thing.

Firk. A thing? Away! Is it a man’s thing, or a woman’s thing?

Ralph. Firk, dost thou know this shoe?

Firk. No, by my troth; neither doth that (56) know me! I have no acquaintance with it, ’t is a mere stranger to me.

Ralph. Why, then I do; this shoe, I durst be sworn, Once covered the instep of my Jane. 60 This is her size, her breadth, thus trod my love; These true-love knots I prickt. I hold my life, By this old shoe I shall find out my wife.

Firk. Ha, ha! Old shoe, that wert new! How a murrain came this ague-fit of foolishness (65) upon thee?

Ralph. Thus, Firk: even now here came a serving-man; By this shoe would he have a new pair made Against to-morrow morning for his mistress, That ’s to be married to a gentleman. 70 And why may not this be my sweet Jane?

Firk. And why may’st not thou be my sweet ass? Ha, ha!

Ralph. Well, laugh and spare not! But the truth is this: Against to-morrow morning I ’ll provide 75 A lusty crew of honest shoemakers, To watch the going of the bride to church. If she prove Jane, I ’ll take her in despite From Hammon and the devil, were he by. If it be not my Jane, what remedy? 80 Hereof I am sure, I shall live till I die, Although I never with a woman lie. Exit.

Firk. Thou lie with a woman to build nothing but Cripplegates! Well, God sends fools fortune, and it may be, he may light upon 85 his matrimony by such a device; for wedding and hanging goes by destiny. Exit.

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Act IV, Scene IV — [2214]

Enter [LACY as] HANS and ROSE, arm in arm.

Hans. How happy am I by embracing thee! Oh, I did fear such cross mishaps did reign That I should never see my Rose again.

Rose. Sweet Lacy, since fair opportunity Offers herself to further our escape, 5 Let not too over-fond esteem of me Hinder that happy hour. Invent the means, And Rose will follow thee through all the world.

Hans. Oh, how I surfeit with excess of joy, Made happy by thy rich perfection! 10 But since thou pay’st sweet interest to my hopes, Redoubling love on love, let me once more Like to a bold-fac’d debtor crave of thee This night to steal abroad, and at Eyre’s house, Who now by death of certain aldermen 15 Is mayor of London, and my master once, Meet thou thy Lacy, where in spite of change, Your father’s anger, and mine uncle’s hate, Our happy nuptials will we consummate.

Enter SYBIL.

Sybil. Oh God, what will you do, mistress? (20) Shift for yourself, your father is at hand! He ’s coming, he ’s coming! Master Lacy, hide yourself in my mistress! For God’s sake, shift for yourselves!

Hans. Your father come! Sweet Rose, what shall I do? 25 Where shall I hide me? How shall I escape?

Rose. A man, and want wit in extremity? Come, come, be Hans still, play the shoemaker, Pull on my shoe.

Enter the LORD MAYOR.

Hans. Mass, and that’s well rememb’red.

Sybil. Here comes your father. 30

Hans. Forware, metresse, ’t is un good skow, it sal vel dute, or ye sal neit betallen.[2215]

Rose. Oh God, it pincheth me; what will you do?

Hans. [Aside.] Your father’s presence pincheth, not the shoe. 34

Lord Mayor. Well done; fit my daughter well, and she shall please thee well.

Hans. Yaw, yaw, ick weit dat well; forware, ’t is un good skoo, ’t is gimait van neitz leither: se euer, mine here.[2216]

Enter a Prentice.

L. Mayor. I do believe it.—What’s the news with you? 40

Prentice. Please you, the Earl of Lincoln at the gate Is newly lighted, and would speak with you.

L. Mayor. The Earl of Lincoln come to speak with me? Well, well, I know his errand. Daughter Rose, Send hence your shoemaker, dispatch, have done! 45 Syb, make things handsome! Sir boy, follow me. Exit.

Hans. Mine uncle come! Oh, what may this portend? Sweet Rose, this of our love threatens an end.

Rose. Be not dismay’d at this; whate’er befall. Rose is thine own. To witness I speak truth, 50 Where thou appoint’st the place, I’ll meet with thee. I will not fix a day to follow thee, But presently[2217] steal hence. Do not reply: Love which gave strength to bear my father’s hate, Shall now add wings to further our escape. 55 Exeunt.

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Act IV, Scene V — [2218]

Enter the LORD MAYOR and the EARL OF LINCOLN.

L. Mayor. Believe me, on my credit, I speak truth: Since first your nephew Lacy went to France, I have not seen him. It seem’d strange to me, When Dodger told me that he stay’d behind, Neglecting the high charge the king imposed. 5

Lincoln. Trust me, Sir Roger Oateley, I did think Your counsel had given head to this attempt, Drawn to it by the love he bears your child. Here I did hope to find him in your house; But now I see mine error, and confess, 10 My judgment wrong’d you by conceiving so.

L. Mayor. Lodge in my house, say you? Trust me, my lord, I love your nephew Lacy too too dearly, So much to wrong his honour; and he hath done so, 14 That first gave him advice to stay from France. To witness I speak truth, I let you know How careful I have been to keep my daughter Free from all conference or speech of him; Not that I scorn your nephew, but in love I bear your honour, lest your noble blood 20 Should by my mean worth be dishonoured.

Lincoln. [Aside.] How far the churl’s tongue wanders from his heart!— Well, well. Sir Roger Oateley, I believe you, With more than many thanks for the kind love So much you seem to bear me. But, my lord, 25 Let me request your help to seek my nephew, Whom if I find, I’ll straight embark for France. So shall your Rose be free, my thoughts at rest, And much care die which now lies in my breast.

Enter SYBIL.

Sybil. Oh Lord! Help, for God’s sake! (30) My mistress; oh, my young mistress!

L. Mayor. Where is thy mistress? What’s become of her?

Sybil. She’s gone, she’s fled!

L. Mayor. Gone! Whither is she fled? 35

Sybil. I know not, forsooth; she’s fled out of doors with Hans the shoemaker; I saw them scud, scud, scud, apace, apace!

L. Mayor. Which way? What, John! Where be my men? Which way? 40

Sybil. I know not, an it please your worship.

L. Mayor. Fled with a shoemaker? Can this be true?

Sybil. Oh Lord, sir, as true as God’s in Heaven.

Lincoln. Her love turn’d shoemaker? I am glad of this.

L. Mayor. A Fleming butter-box, a shoemaker! 45 Will she forget her birth, requite my care With such ingratitude? Scorn’d she young Hammon To love a honniken,[2219] a needy knave? Well, let her fly, I’ll not fly after her, 49 Let her starve, if she will: she’s none of mine.

Lincoln. Be not so cruel, sir.

Enter FIRK with shoes.

Sybil. I am glad, she’s scapt.

L. Mayor. I’ll not account of her as of my child. Was there no better object for her eyes, But a foul drunken lubber, swill-belly, A shoemaker? That’s brave! 50

Firk. Yea, forsooth; ’t is a very brave shoe, and as fit as a pudding.

L. Mayor. How now, what knave is this? From whence comest thou?

Firk. No knave, sir. I am Firk the shoemaker, (55) lusty Roger’s chief lusty journeyman, and I have come hither to take up the pretty leg of sweet Mistress Rose, and thus hoping your worship is in as good health, as I was at the making hereof, I bid you farewell, yours, Firk. 65

L. Mayor. Stay, stay. Sir Knave!

Lincoln. Come hither, shoemaker!

Firk. ’T is happy the knave is put before the shoemaker, or else I would not have vouchsafed (70) to come back to you. I am moved, for I stir.

L. Mayor. My lord, this villain calls us knaves by craft.

Firk. Then ’t is by the gentle craft, and (75) to call one knave gently, is no harm. Sit your worship merry! Syb, your young mistress—I ’ll so bob[2220] them, now my Master Eyre is lord mayor of London.

L. Mayor. Tell me, sirrah, whose man are you? 80

Firk. I am glad to see your worship so merry. I have no maw to this gear, no stomach as yet to a red petticoat. Pointing to SYBIL.

Lincoln. He means not, sir, to woo you to his maid, 85 But only doth demand whose man you are.

Firk. I sing now to the tune of Rogero. Roger, my fellow, is now my master.

Lincoln. Sirrah, know’st thou one Hans, a shoemaker? 90

Firk. Hans, shoemaker? Oh yes, stay, yes, I have him. I tell you what, I speak it in secret: Mistress Rose and he are by this time—no, not so, but shortly are to come over one another with “Can you dance the shaking of the (95) sheets?” It is that Hans—[Aside.] I’ll so gull[2220] these diggers![2221]

L. Mayor. Know’st thou, then, where he is?

Firk. Yes, forsooth; yea, marry!

Lincoln. Canst thou, in sadness[2222]—— 100

Firk. No, forsooth, no, marry!

L. Mayor. Tell me, good honest fellow, where he is, And thou shalt see what I’ll bestow on thee.

Firk. Honest fellow? No, sir; not so, sir; my profession is the gentle craft; I care not (105) for seeing, I love feeling; let me feel it here; aurium tenus, ten pieces of gold; genuum tenus, ten pieces of silver; and then Firk is your man—[Aside.] in a new pair of stretchers.[2223]

L. Mayor. Here is an angel, part of thy reward, 110 Which I will give thee; tell me where he is.

Firk. No point. Shall I betray my brother? No! Shall I prove Judas to Hans? No! Shall I cry treason to my corporation? No, I shall be firkt and yerkt then. But give me your (115) angel; your angel shall tell you.

Lincoln. Do so, good fellow; ’t is no hurt to thee.

Firk. Send simpering Syb away.

L. Mayor. Huswife, get you in. 119 Exit SYBIL.

Firk. Pitchers have ears, and maids have wide mouths; but for Hans Prauns, upon my word, to-morrow morning he and young Mistress Rose go to this gear, they shall be married together, by this rush, or else turn Firk to a firkin of butter, to tan leather withal. 125

L. Mayor. But art thou sure of this?

Firk. Am I sure that Paul’s steeple is a handful higher than London Stone,[2224] or that the Pissing-Conduit[2225] leaks nothing but pure (129) Mother Bunch?[2226] Am I sure I am lusty Firk? God’s nails, do you think I am so base to gull you?

Lincoln. Where are they married? Dost thou know the church? 134

Firk. I never go to church, but I know the name of it; it is a swearing church—stay a while, ’t is—ay, by the mass, no, no,—’t is—ay, by my troth, no, nor that; ’t is—ay, by my faith, that, that, ’t is, ay, by my Faith’s Church under Paul’s Cross. There they shall (140) be knit like a pair of stockings in matrimony; there they’ll be inconie.[2227]

Lincoln. Upon my life, my nephew Lacy walks In the disguise of this Dutch shoemaker.

Firk. Yes, forsooth. 145

Lincoln. Doth he not, honest fellow?

Firk. No, forsooth; I think Hans is nobody but Hans, no spirit.

L. Mayor. My mind misgives me now, ’t is so, indeed.

Lincoln. My cousin speaks the language, knows the trade. 150

L. Mayor. Let me request your company, my lord; Your honourable presence may, no doubt, Refrain their headstrong rashness, when myself Going alone perchance may be o’erborne. Shall I request this favour?

Lincoln. This, or what else. 155

Firk. Then you must rise betimes, for they mean to fall to their hey-pass and repass,[2228] pindy-pandy, which hand will you have, very early.

L. Mayor. My care shall every way equal their haste. 160 This night accept your lodging in my house, The earlier shall we stir, and at Saint Faith’s Prevent this giddy hare-brain’d nuptial. This traffic of hot love shall yield cold gains: They ban[2229] our loves, and we’ll forbid their banns. Exit. 165

Lincoln. At Saint Faith’s Church thou say’st?

Firk. Yes, by their troth.

Lincoln. Be secret, on thy life. Exit.

Firk. Yes, when I kiss your wife! Ha, ha, here ’s no craft in the gentle craft. I came (170) hither of purpose with shoes to Sir Roger’s worship, whilst Rose, his daughter, be cony-catcht by Hans. Soft now; these two gulls will be at Saint Faith’s Church to-morrow (174) morning, to take Master Bridegroom and Mistress Bride napping, and they, in the mean time, shall chop up the matter at the Savoy. But the best sport is, Sir Roger Oateley will find my fellow lame Ralph’s wife going to (179) marry a gentleman, and then he’ll stop her instead of his daughter. Oh brave! there will be fine tickling sport. Soft now, what have I to do? Oh, I know; now a mess of shoemakers meet at the Woolsack in Ivy Lane, to cozen[2230] my gentleman of lame Ralph’s wife, that’s true. 185 Alack, alack! Girls, hold out tack! For now smocks for this jumbling Shall go to wrack. 190 Exit.

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Act V, Scene I — [2231]

Enter EYRE, his wife [MARGERY], HANS, and ROSE.

Eyre. This is the morning, then; stay, my bully, my honest Hans, is it not?

Hans. This is the morning that must make us two happy or miserable; therefore, if you—— 5

Eyre. Away with these ifs and ans, Hans, and these et caeteras! By mine honour, Rowland Lacy, none but the king shall wrong thee. Come, fear nothing, am not I Sim Eyre? Is not Sim Eyre lord mayor of London? Fear nothing, (10) Rose: let them all say what they can; dainty, come thou to me—laughest thou?

Marg. Good my lord, stand her friend in what thing you may.

Eyre. Why, my sweet Lady Madgy, think (15) you Simon Eyre can forget his fine Dutch journeyman? No, vah! Fie, I scorn it, it shall never be cast in my teeth, that I was unthankful. Lady Madgy, thou had’st never cover’d thy Saracen’s head with this French flap, nor (20) loaden thy bum with this farthingale, (’t is trash, trumpery, vanity); Simon Eyre had never walk’d in a red petticoat, nor wore a chain of gold, but for my fine journeyman’s Portuguese.—And shall I leave him? No! Prince am I (25) none, yet bear a princely mind.

Hans. My lord, ’t is time for us to part from hence.

Eyre. Lady Madgy, Lady Madgy, take two or three of my pie-crust-eaters, my buff-jerkin varlets, that do walk in black gowns at (30) Simon Eyre’s heels; take them, good Lady Madgy; trip and go, my brown queen of periwigs, with my delicate Rose and my jolly Rowland to the Savoy; see them linkt, countenance the marriage; and when it is done, cling, (35) cling together, you Hamborow turtle-doves. I’ll bear you out, come to Simon Eyre; come, dwell with me, Hans, thou shalt eat minc’d-pies and marchpane.[2232] Rose, away, cricket; trip and go, my Lady Madgy, to the Savoy; Hans, wed, and to bed; kiss, and away! Go, vanish!

Marg. Farewell, my lord. 42

Rose. Make haste, sweet love.

Marg. She’d fain the deed were done.

Hans. Come, my sweet Rose; faster than deer we’ll run. 45 Exeunt HANS, ROSE, and MARGERY.

Eyre. Go, vanish, vanish! Avaunt, I say! By the Lord of Ludgate, it’s a mad life to be a lord mayor; it’s a stirring life, a fine life, a velvet life, a careful life. Well, Simon Eyre, yet set a good face on it, in the honour of Saint (50) Hugh. Soft, the king this day comes to dine with me, to see my new buildings; his majesty is welcome, he shall have good cheer, delicate cheer, princely cheer. This day, my fellow prentices of London come to dine with me too, (55) they shall have fine cheer, gentlemanlike cheer. I promised the mad Cappadocians, when we all served at the Conduit together, that if ever I came to be mayor of London, I would feast them all, and I’ll do’t, I’ll do’t, by the life (60) of Pharaoh; by this beard, Sim Eyre will be no flincher. Besides, I have procur’d that upon every Shrove-Tuesday, at the sound of the pancake bell, my fine dapper Assyrian lads shall clap up their shop windows, and away. (65) This is the day, and this day they shall do’t, they shall do’t.

Boys, that day are you free, let masters care, And prentices shall pray for Simon Eyre. Exit.

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