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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Select Collection of Old English Plays,
+Vol. VIII (4th edition), by Various, Edited by Robert Dodsley
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. VIII (4th edition)
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: December 15, 2003  [eBook #10467]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SELECT COLLECTION OF OLD ENGLISH
+PLAYS, VOL. VIII (4TH EDITION)***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, Tapio Riikonen, and Project Gutenberg
+Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+A SELECT COLLECTION OF OLD ENGLISH PLAYS, VOL. VIII
+
+Fourth Edition
+
+Originally published by Robert Dodsley in the Year 1744.
+
+Now first chronologically arranged, revised and enlarged with the Notes
+of all the Commentators, and new Notes
+
+By
+
+W. CAREW HAZLITT
+
+1874-1876.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS:
+
+Summer's Last Will and Testament
+The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington
+The Death of Robert Earl of Huntington
+Contention between Liberality and Prodigality
+Grim the Collier of Croydon.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+SUMMER'S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT.
+
+
+
+
+EDITION.
+
+
+_A pleasant Comedie, called Summer's last will and Testament. Written
+by Thomas Nash. Imprinted at London by Simon Stafford, for Water Burre_.
+1600. 4to.
+
+
+
+
+[COLLIER'S PREFACE.]
+
+
+[Thomas Nash, son of William Nash, minister, and Margaret his wife, was
+baptized at Lowestoft, in Suffolk, in November 1567.[1] He was admitted
+a scholar at St John's College, Cambridge, on the Lady Margaret's
+foundation, in 1584, and proceeded B.A. in 1585:] the following is a
+copy of the Register:--
+
+"Tho. Nashe Coll. Joh. Cantab. A.B. ib. 1585." The place, though not
+the time, of his birth[2] we have under his own authority, for in his
+"Lenten Stuff," printed in 1599, he informs us that he was born at
+Lowestoft; and he leads us to conclude that his family was of some note,
+by adding that his "father sprang from the Nashes of Herefordshire."[3]
+
+It does not appear that Nash ever proceeded Master of Arts at Cambridge,
+and most of his biographers agree that he left his college about 1587.
+It is evident, however, that he had got into disgrace, and probably was
+expelled; for the author of "England to her three Daughters" in
+"Polimanteia," 1595, speaking of Harvey and Nash, and the pending
+quarrel between them, uses these terms: "Cambridge make thy two children
+friends: _thou hast been unkind to the one to wean him before his time_,
+and too fond upon the other to keep him so long without preferment: the
+one is ancient and of much reading; the other is young, but full of
+wit."[4] The cause of his disgrace is reported to have been the share he
+took in a piece called "Terminus et non Terminus," not now extant; and
+it is not denied that his partner in this offence was expelled. Most
+likely, therefore, Nash suffered the same punishment.
+
+If Nash be the author of "An Almond for a Parrot," of which there is
+little doubt, although his name is not affixed to it, he travelled in
+Italy;[5] and we find from another of his pieces that he had been in
+Ireland. Perhaps he went abroad soon after he abandoned Cambridge, and
+before he settled in London and became an author. His first appearance
+in this character seems to have been in 1589, and we believe the
+earliest date of any tract attributed to him relating to Martin
+Marprelate is also 1589.[6] He was the first, as has been frequently
+remarked, to attack this enemy of the Church with the keen missiles of
+wit and satire, throwing aside the lumbering and unserviceable weapons
+of scholastic controversy. Having set the example in this respect, he
+had many followers and imitators, and among them John Lily, the dramatic
+poet, the author of "Pap with a Hatchet."
+
+In London Nash became acquainted with Robert Greene, and their
+friendship drew him into a long literary contest with Gabriel Harvey, to
+which Nash owes much of his reputation. It arose out of the posthumous
+attack of Harvey upon Robert Greene, of which sufficient mention has
+been made elsewhere. Nash replied on behalf of his dead companion, and
+reiterated the charge which had given the original offence to Harvey,
+viz., that his brother was the son of a ropemaker.[7] One piece was
+humorously dedicated to Richard Litchfield, a barber of Cambridge, and
+Harvey answered it under the assumed character of the same barber, in a
+tract called "The Trimmino of Thomas Nash,"[8] which also contained a
+woodcut of a man in fetters. This representation referred to the
+imprisonment of Nash for an offence he gave by writing a play (not now
+extant) called "The Isle of Dogs," and to this event Francis Meres
+alludes in his "Palladia Tamia," 1598, in these terms: "As Actaeon was
+worried of his own hounds, so is Tom Nash of his 'Isle of Dogs.' Dogs
+were the death of Euripides; but be not disconsolate, gallant young
+Juvenal; Linus, the son of Apollo, died the same death. Yet God forbid,
+that so brave a wit should so basely perish!--Thine are but paper dogs;
+neither is thy banishment like Ovid's eternally to converse with the
+barbarous _Getes_. Therefore comfort thyself, sweet Tom, with Cicero's
+glorious return to Rome, and with the council Aeneas gives to his
+sea-beaten soldiers." Lib. I. Aeneid.
+
+    "Pluck up thine heart, and drive from thence both fear and care away:
+    To think on this may pleasure be, perhaps, another day."
+
+    --_Durato, et temet rebus servato secundis_. (fol. 286.)
+
+This was in part verified in the next year, for when Nash published his
+"Lenten Stuff," he referred with apparent satisfaction to his past
+troubles in consequence of his "Isle of Dogs."[9]
+
+So much has been said, especially by Mr D'Israeli in his "Quarrels of
+Authors," on the subject of this dispute between Nash and Harvey, that
+it is unnecessary to add anything, excepting that it was carried to such
+a length, and the pamphlets contained so much scurrility, that it was
+ordered from authority in 1599 that all the tracts on both sides should
+be seized and suppressed.[10]
+
+As with Greene, so with Nash, an opinion on his moral conduct and
+general deportment has been too readily formed from the assertions of
+his opponents; and because Gabriel Harvey, to answer a particular
+purpose, states, "You may be in one prison to-day and in another
+to-morrow," it has been taken for granted, that "after his arrival in
+London, he was often confined in different jails." No doubt, he and his
+companions Greene, Marlowe, and Peele, led very disorderly lives, and it
+is singular that all four died prematurely, the oldest of them probably
+not being forty years of age. It is certain that Nash was not living at
+the time when the "Return from Parnassus" was produced, which, though
+not printed until 1606, was written before the end of the reign of
+Elizabeth: his ashes are there spoken of as at rest, but the mention of
+him as dead, nearest to the probable date of that event, is to be found
+in [Fitzgeoffrey's "Affaniae," 1601, where an epitaph upon him is
+printed. His name also occurs in] an anonymous poem, under the title of
+"The Ant and the Nightingale, or Father Hubbard's Tales," 1604, where
+the following stanza is met with--
+
+    "Or if in bitterness thou rail like Nash:
+    Forgive me, honest soul, that term thy phrase
+    _Railing_; for in thy works thou wert not rash,
+    Nor didst affect in youth thy private praise.
+    Thou hadst a strife with that Tergemini;[11]
+    Thou hurt'dst them not till they had injured thee."[12]
+
+The author of a MS. epitaph, in "Bibl. Sloan," Pl. XXI. A. was not so
+squeamish in the language he employed--
+
+    "Here lies Tom Nash, that notable _railer_,
+    That in his life ne'er paid shoemaker nor tailor."
+
+The following from Thomas Freeman's Epigrams, 1614, is not out of its
+place--
+
+    OF THOMAS NASH.
+
+    "Nash, had Lycambes on earth living been
+    The time thou wast, his death had been all one;
+    Had he but mov'd thy tartest Muse to spleen
+    Unto the fork he had as surely gone:
+    For why? there lived not that man, I think,
+    Us'd better or more bitter gall in ink."
+
+It is impossible in the present day to attempt anything like a correct
+list of the productions of Nash, many of which were unquestionably
+printed without his name:[13] the titles of and quotations from a great
+number may be found in the various bibliographical miscellanies, easily
+accessible. When he began to write cannot be ascertained, but it was
+most likely soon after his return from the Continent, and the dispute
+between John Penry and the Bishops seems then to have engaged his
+pen.[14] There is one considerable pamphlet by him, called "Christ's
+Tears over Jerusalem," printed in 1593, which, like some of the tracts
+by Greene, is of a repentant and religious character; and it has been
+said that, though published with his name, it was not in fact his
+production. There is no sufficient ground for this supposition, and Nash
+never subsequently disowned the performance: the address "To the Reader"
+contains an apology to Gabriel Harvey for the attack upon him, in terms
+that seem to vouch for their own sincerity. "Nothing (says Nash) is
+there now so much in my vows as to be at peace with all men, and make
+submissive amends where I most displeased; not basely fear-blasted, or
+constraintively overruled, but purely pacificatory: suppliant for
+reconciliation and pardon do I sue to the principallest of them 'gainst
+whom I professed utter enmity; even of Master Doctor Harvey I heartily
+desire the like, whose fame and reputation (through some precedent
+injurious provocations and fervent excitements of young heads) I rashly
+assailed: yet now better advised, and of his perfections more
+confirmedly persuaded, unfeignedly I entreat of the whole world from my
+pen his worth may receive no impeachment. All acknowledgments of
+abundant scholarship, courteous, well-governed behaviour, and ripe,
+experienced judgment do I attribute to him."
+
+We have already seen with what malignity Harvey trampled upon the corpse
+of Greene, and he received this apology of Nash in a corresponding
+spirit; for instead of accepting it, in his "New Letter of Notable
+Contents," 1593, he rejects it with scorn: "Riotous vanity (he replies)
+was wont to root so deeply that it could hardly be unrooted; and where
+reckless impudency taketh possession, it useth not very hastily to be
+dispossessed. What say you to a spring of rankest villainy in February,
+and a harvest of ripest divinity in May? But what should we hereafter
+talk any more of paradoxes or impossibilities, when he that penned the
+most desperate and abominable pamphlet of 'Strange News,' and disgorged
+his stomach of as poisonous rancour as ever was vomited in print, within
+few months is won, or charmed, or enchanted, (or what metamorphosis
+should I term it?) to astonish carnal minds with spiritual
+meditations," &c. Such a reception of well-intended and
+eloquently-written amends was enough to make Nash repent even his
+repentance, as far as Gabriel Harvey was concerned.[15]
+
+Of the popularity of Nash as a writer some notion may be formed from a
+fact he himself mentions in his "Have with you to Saffron Walden," that
+between 1592, when his "Pierce Penniless, his Supplication to the Devil"
+was first printed, and 1596 it "passed through the pikes of at least six
+impressions." How long his reputation as a satirist survived him may be
+judged from the fact that in 1640 Taylor the Water Poet published a
+tract, which had for its second title "Tom Nash, his Ghost (the old
+Martin queller), newly rouz'd:" and in _Mercurius Anti-pragmaticus_,
+from Oct. 12 to Oct. 19, 1647, is the following passage: "Perhaps you
+will be angry now, and when you steal forth disguised, in your next
+intelligence thunder forth threatenings against me, and be as satirical
+in your language as ever was your predecessor Nash, who compiled a
+learned treatise in the praise of a red herring."
+
+Only two plays in which Nash had any concern have come down to us: his
+"Isle of Dogs," before noticed, was probably never printed, or at all
+events it is not now known to exist. He wrote alone--
+
+(1.) A pleasant Comedy called "Summer's Last Will and Testament."
+1600. 4to.
+
+In conjunction with Marlowe he produced--
+
+(2.) "The Tragedy of Dido, Queen of Carthage," played by the children
+of her Majesty's chapel. 1594. 4to.
+
+Phillips, in his "Theatrum Poetarum," also assigned to Nash, "See me,
+and see me not," a comedy, which may be a different play, and not, as
+has been generally supposed, "Hans Beer Pot;" because, the name of the
+author, Dawbridgecourt Belchier, being subscribed to the dedication,
+such a mistake could not easily be made.
+
+
+
+
+DRAMATIS PERSONAE.
+
+
+WILL SUMMER.
+VER.
+SUMMER.
+AUTUMN.
+WINTER.
+CHRISTMAS,   |  _Sons to WINTER_.
+BACKWINTEB.  |
+SOL.
+SOLSTITIUM.
+VERTUMNUS.
+ORION.
+BACCHUS.
+HARVEST.
+SATIRES.
+NYMPHS.
+_Three_ CLOWNS.
+_Three_ MAIDS.
+HUNTERS.
+REAPERS.
+MORRIS DANCERS.
+BOY _to speak the Epilogue_.
+
+
+
+
+SUMMER'S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT.[16]
+
+
+    _Enter_ WILL SUMMER,[17] _in his fool's coat
+    but half on, coming out_.
+
+_Noctem peccatis et fraudibus objice nubem_.[18] There is no such fine
+time to play the knave in as the night. I am a goose or a ghost, at
+least; for what with turmoil of getting my fool's apparel, and care of
+being perfect, I am sure I have not yet supp'd to-night. Will Summer's
+ghost I should be, come to present you with "Summer's Last Will and
+Testament." Be it so; if my cousin Ned will lend me his chain and his
+fiddle. Other stately-pac'd Prologues use to attire themselves within: I
+that have a toy in my head more than ordinary, and use to go without
+money, without garters, without girdle, without hat-band, without points
+to my hose, without a knife to my dinner, and make so much use of this
+word without in everything, will here dress me without. Dick
+Huntley[19] cries, Begin, begin: and all the whole house, For shame,
+come away; when I had my things but now brought me out of the laundry.
+God forgive me, I did not see my Lord before! I'll set a good face on
+it, as though what I had talk'd idly all this while were my part. So it
+is, _boni viri_, that one fool presents another; and I, a fool by nature
+and by art, do speak to you in the person of the idiot of our
+play-maker. He, like a fop and an ass, must be making himself a public
+laughingstock, and have no thank for his labour; where other Magisterii,
+whose invention is far more exquisite, are content to sit still and do
+nothing. I'll show you what a scurvy Prologue he had made me, in an old
+vein of similitudes: if you be good fellows, give it the hearing, that
+you may judge of him thereafter.
+
+
+
+
+THE PROLOGUE.
+
+
+At a solemn feast of the Triumviri in Rome, it was seen and observed
+that the birds ceased to sing, and sat solitary on the housetops, by
+reason of the sight of a painted serpent set openly to view. So fares it
+with us novices, that here betray our imperfections: we, afraid to look
+on the imaginary serpent of envy, painted in men's affections, have
+ceased to tune any music of mirth to your ears this twelvemonth,
+thinking that, as it is the nature of the serpent to hiss, so childhood
+and ignorance would play the gosling, contemning and condemning what
+they understood not. Their censures we weigh not, whose senses are not
+yet unswaddled. The little minutes will be continually striking, though
+no man regard them: whelps will bark before they can see, and strive to
+bite before they have teeth. Politianus speaketh of a beast who, while
+he is cut on the table, drinketh and represents the motions and voices
+of a living creature. Such like foolish beasts are we who, whilst we are
+cut, mocked, and flouted at, in every man's common talk, will
+notwithstanding proceed to shame ourselves to make sport. No man
+pleaseth all: we seek to please one. Didymus wrote four thousand books,
+or (as some say) six-thousand, on the art of grammar. Our author hopes
+it may be as lawful for him to write a thousand lines of as light a
+subject. Socrates (whom the oracle pronounced the wisest man of Greece)
+sometimes danced: Scipio and Laslius, by the sea-side, played at
+peeble-stone: _Semel insanivimus omnes_. Every man cannot with
+Archimedes make a heaven of brass, or dig gold out of the iron mines of
+the law. Such odd trifles as mathematicians' experiments be artificial
+flies to hang in the air by themselves, dancing balls, an egg-shell that
+shall climb up to the top of a spear, fiery-breathing gores, _poeta
+noster_ professeth not to make. _Placeat sibi quinque licebit_. What's a
+fool but his bauble? Deep-reaching wits, here is no deep stream for you
+to angle in. Moralisers, you that wrest a never-meant meaning out of
+everything, applying all things to the present time, keep your attention
+for the common stage; for here are no quips in characters for you to
+read. Vain glosers, gather what you will; spite, spell backward what
+thou canst. As the Parthians fight flying away, so will we prate and
+talk, but stand to nothing that we say.
+
+How say you, my masters? do you not laugh at him for a coxcomb? Why, he
+hath made a prologue longer than his play: nay, 'tis no play neither,
+but a show. I'll be sworn the jig of Rowland's godson is a giant in
+comparison of it. What can be made of Summer's last will and testament!
+Such another thing as Gyllian of Brentford's[20] will, where she
+bequeathed a score of farts amongst her friends. Forsooth, because the
+plague reigns in most places in this latter end of summer,[21] Summer
+must come in sick; he must call his officers to account, yield his
+throne to Autumn, make Winter his executor, with tittle-tattle Tom-boy.
+God give you good night in Watling Street; I care not what you say now,
+for I play no more than you hear; and some of that you heard too (by
+your leave) was _extempore_. He were as good have let me had the best
+part, for I'll be revenged on him to the uttermost, in this person of
+Will Summer, which I have put on to play the prologue, and mean not to
+put it off till the play be done. I'll sit as a chorus, and flout the
+actors and him at the end of every scene. I know they will not interrupt
+me, for fear of marring of all; but look to your cues, my masters, for I
+intend to play the knave in cue, and put you besides all your parts, if
+you take not the better heed. Actors, you rogues, come away; clear your
+throats, blow your noses, and wipe your mouths ere you enter, that you
+may take no occasion to spit or to cough, when you are _non plus_. And
+this I bar, over and besides, that none of you stroke your beards to
+make action, play with your cod-piece points, or stand fumbling on your
+buttons, when you know not how to bestow your fingers. Serve God, and
+act cleanly. A fit of mirth and an old song first, if you will.
+
+    _Enter_ SUMMER, _leaning on_ AUTUMN'S _and_ WINTER'S
+    _shoulders, and attended on with a train of Satyrs and
+    Wood-nymphs, singing_.[22]
+
+_Fair Summer droops, droop men and beasts therefore,
+So fair a summer look for never more:
+All good things vanish less than in a day,
+Peace, plenty, pleasure, suddenly decay.
+  Go not yet away, bright soul of the sad year,
+  The earth is hell when thou, leav'st to appear.
+
+What! shall those flowers that deck'd thy garland erst,
+Upon thy grave be wastefully dispersed?
+O trees, consume your sap in sorrow's source,
+Streams turn to tears your tributary course.
+  Go not yet hence, bright soul of the sad year,
+  The earth is hell when thou leav'st to appear.
+
+    [The Satyrs and Wood-nymphs go out singing, and leave_
+    SUMMER _and_ WINTER _and_ AUTUMN _on the stage_.
+
+WILL SUM. A couple of pretty boys, if they would wash their faces, and
+were well breech'd[23] in an hour or two. The rest of the green men
+have reasonable voices, good to sing catches or the great _Jowben_ by
+the fire's side in a winter's evening. But let us hear what Summer can
+say for himself, why he should not be hiss'd at.
+
+SUM. What pleasure always lasts? no joy endures:
+Summer I am; I am not what I was;
+Harvest and age have whiten'd my green head;
+On Autumn now and Winter I must lean.
+Needs must he fall, whom none but foes uphold,
+Thus must the happiest man have his black day.
+_Omnibus una manet nox, et calcanda semel via lethi_.[24]
+This month have I lain languishing a-bed,
+Looking each hour to yield my life and throne;
+And died I had indeed unto the earth,
+But that Eliza, England's beauteous Queen,
+On whom all seasons prosperously attend,
+Forbad the execution of my fate,
+Until her joyful progress was expir'd.[25]
+For her doth Summer live, and linger here,
+And wisheth long to live to her content:
+But wishes are not had, when they wish well:
+I must depart, my death-day is set down;
+To these two must I leave my wheaten crown.
+So unto unthrifts rich men leave their lands,
+Who in an hour consume long labour's gains.
+True is it that divinest Sidney sung,
+_0, he is marr'd, that is for others made_.
+Come near, my friends, for I am near my end.
+In presence of this honourable train,
+Who love me, for I patronise their sports,
+Mean I to make my final testament:
+But first I'll call my officers to 'count,
+And of the wealth I gave them to dispose,
+Know what is left I may know what to give
+Vertumnus, then, that turn'st the year about,
+Summon them one by one to answer me.
+First, Ver, the Spring, unto whose custody
+I have committed more than to the rest;
+The choice of all my fragrant meads and flowers,
+And what delights soe'er nature affords.
+
+VER. I will, my lord. Ver, lusty Ver, by the name of lusty Ver, come
+into the court! lose a mark in issues.
+
+    _Enter_ VER, _with his train, overlaid with suits of
+    green moss, representing short grass, singing.
+
+
+The Song.
+
+Spring, the sweet spring, is the year's pleasant king,
+Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in ring,
+Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing,
+Cuckow, jug, jug, pu--we, to-wit, to-whoo.
+
+The palm and may make country houses gay,
+Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,
+And hear we aye birds tune this merry lay,
+Cuckow, jug, jug, pu--we, to-wit, to-whoo.
+
+The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
+Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit;
+In every street these tunes our ears do greet,
+Cuckow, jug, jug, pu--we, to-wit, to-whoo.
+    Spring, the sweet spring_.
+
+WILL SUM. By my troth, they have voices as clear as crystal: this is
+a pratty thing, if it be for nothing but to go a-begging with.
+
+SUM. Believe me, Ver, but thou art pleasant bent;
+This humour should import a harmless mind.
+Know'st thou the reason why I sent for thee?
+
+VER. No, faith, nor care not whether I do or no.
+If you will dance a galliard, so it is: if not--
+
+    _Falangtado, Falangtado,
+    To wear the black and yellow,
+    Falantado, Falantado,
+    My mates are gone, I'll follow_.[26]
+
+SUM. Nay, stay awhile, we must confer and talk.
+Ver, call to mind I am thy sovereign lord,
+And what thou hast, of me thou hast and hold'st.
+Unto no other end I sent for thee,
+But to demand a reckoning at thy hands,
+How well or ill thou hast employ'd my wealth.
+
+VER. If that be all, we will not disagree:
+A clean trencher and a napkin you shall have presently.
+
+WILL SUM. The truth is, this fellow hath been a tapster in his days.
+
+    VER _goes in, and fetcheth out the hobby-horse[27] and
+    the morris-dance, who dance about_.
+
+SUM. How now? is this the reckoning we shall have?
+
+WIN. My lord, he doth abuse you; brook it not.
+
+AUT. _Summa totalis_, I fear, will prove him but a fool.
+
+VER. About, about! lively, put your horse to it, rein him harder; jerk
+him with your wand: sit fast, sit fast, man! fool, hold up your ladle
+there.
+
+WILL SUM. O brave Hall![28] O, well-said, butcher. Now for the credit
+of Worcestershire. The finest set of morris-dancers that is between
+this and Streatham. Marry, methinks there is one of them danceth like
+a clothier's horse, with a woolpack on his back. You, friend with the
+hobby-horse, go not too fast, for fear of wearing out my lord's
+tile-stones with your hobnails.
+
+VER. So, so, so; trot the ring twice over, and away. May it please my
+lord, this is the grand capital sum; but there are certain parcels
+behind, as you shall see.
+
+SUM. Nay, nay, no more; for this is all too much.
+
+VER. Content yourself; we'll have variety.
+
+    _Here enter three_ CLOWNS _and three_ MAIDS,
+    _singing this song, dancing:--
+
+        Trip and go, heave and hoe,
+        Up and down, to and fro;
+        From the town to the grove,
+        Two and two let us rove.
+        A maying, a playing:
+        Love hath no gainsaying;
+        So merrily trip and go_.
+
+WILL SUM. Beshrew my heart, of a number of ill legs I never saw worse
+dancers. How bless'd are you, that the wenches of the parish do not
+see you!
+
+SUM. Presumptuous Ver, uncivil-nurtur'd boy? Think'st I will be derided
+thus of thee? Is this th'account and reckoning that thou mak'st?
+
+VER. Troth, my lord, to tell you plain, I can give you no other account;
+_nam quae habui perdidi_; what I had, I spent on good fellows; in these
+sports you have seen, which are proper to the spring, and others of like
+sort (as giving wenches green gowns,[29] making garlands for fencers,
+and tricking up children gay), have I bestowed all my flowery treasure
+and flower of my youth.
+
+WILL SUM. A small matter. I know one spent in less than a year eight
+and fifty pounds in mustard, and another that ran in debt, in the space
+of four or five year, above fourteen thousand pound in lute-strings and
+grey-paper.[30]
+
+SUM. O monstrous unthrift! who e'er heard the like?
+The sea's vast throat, in so short tract of time,
+Devoureth nor consumeth half so much.
+How well might'st thou have liv'd within thy bounds.
+
+VER. What, talk you to me of living within my bounds? I tell you none
+but asses live within their bounds: the silly beasts, if they be put in
+a pasture, that is eaten bare to the very earth, and where there is
+nothing to be had but thistles, will rather fall soberly to those
+thistles and be hunger-starv'd, than they will offer to break their
+bounds; whereas the lusty courser, if he be in a barren plot, and spy
+better grass in some pasture near adjoining, breaks over hedge and
+ditch, and to go, ere he will be pent in, and not have his bellyful.
+Peradventure, the horses lately sworn to be stolen,[31] carried that
+youthful mind, who, if they had been asses, would have been yet extant.
+
+WILL SUM. Thus, we may see, the longer we live the more we shall learn:
+I ne'er thought honesty an ass till this day.
+
+VER. This world is transitory; it was made of nothing, and it must to
+nothing: wherefore, if we will do the will of our high Creator, whose
+will it is that it pass to nothing, we must help to consume it to
+nothing. Gold is more vile than men: men die in thousands and ten
+thousands, yea, many times in hundred thousands, in one battle. If then
+the best husband has been so liberal of his best handiwork, to what end
+should we make much of a glittering excrement, or doubt to spend at a
+banquet as many pounds as he spends men at a battle? Methinks I honour
+_Geta_, the Roman emperor, for a brave-minded fellow; for he commanded a
+banquet to be made him of all meats under the sun, which were served in
+after the order of the alphabet, and the clerk of the kitchen, following
+the last dish, which was two miles off from the foremost, brought him an
+index of their several names. Neither did he pingle, when it was set on
+the board, but for the space of three days and three nights never rose
+from the table.
+
+WILL SUM. O intolerable lying villain, that was never begotten without
+the consent of a whetstone![32]
+
+SUM. Ungracious man, how fondly he argueth!
+
+VER. Tell me, I pray, wherefore was gold laid under our feet in the
+veins of the earth, but that we should contemn it, and tread upon it,
+and so consequently tread thrift under our feet? It was not known till
+the iron age, _donec facinus invasit mortales_, as the poet says; and
+the Scythians always detested it. I will prove it that an unthrift, of
+any, comes nearest a happy man, in so much as he comes nearest to
+beggary. Cicero saith, _summum bonum_ consists in _omnium rerum
+vacatione_, that is, the chiefest felicity that may be to rest from all
+labours. Now who doth so much _vacare à rebus_, who rests so much, who
+hath so little to do as the beggar? who can sing so merry a note, as he
+that cannot change a groat?[33] _Cui nil est, nil deest_: he that hath
+nothing wants nothing. On the other side, it is said of the carl, _Omnia
+habeo, nec quicquam habeo_: I have all things, yet want everything.
+_Multi mihi vitio vertunt quia egeo_, saith Marcus Cato in Aulus
+Gellius; _at ego illis quia nequeunt egere_: many upbraid me, saith he,
+because I am poor; but I upbraid them, because they cannot live if they
+be poor.[34] It is a common proverb, _Divesque miserque_, a rich man and
+a miserable: _nam natura paucis contenta_, none so contented as the poor
+man. Admit that the chiefest happiness were not rest or ease, but
+knowledge, as Herillus, Alcidamus, and many of Socrates' followers
+affirm; why _paupertas omnes perdocet artes_, poverty instructs a man in
+all arts; it makes a man hardy and venturous, and therefore is it called
+of the poets _paupertas audax_, valiant poverty. It is not so much
+subject to inordinate desires as wealth or prosperity. _Non habet, unde
+suum paupertas pascat amorem_;[35] poverty hath not wherewithal to feed
+lust. All the poets were beggars; all alchemists and all philosophers
+are beggars. _Omnia mea mecum porto_, quoth Bias, when he had nothing
+but bread and cheese in a leathern bag, and two or three books in his
+bosom. Saint Francis, a holy saint, and never had any money. It is
+madness to doat upon muck. That young man of Athens, Aelianus makes
+mention of, may be an example to us, who doated so extremely on the
+image of Fortune, that when he might not enjoy it, he died for sorrow.
+The earth yields all her fruits together, and why should we not spend
+them together? I thank heavens on my knees, that have made me an
+unthrift.[36]
+
+SUM. O vanity itself: O wit ill-spent!
+So study thousands not to mend their lives,
+But to maintain the sin they most affect,
+To be hell's advocates 'gainst their own souls.
+Ver, since thou giv'st such praise to beggary,
+And hast defended it so valiantly,
+This be thy penance: thou shalt ne'er appear
+Or come abroad, but Lent shall wait on thee:
+His scarcity may countervail thy waste.
+Riot may flourish, but finds want at last.
+Take him away that knoweth no good way,
+And lead him the next way to woe and want.    [_Exit_ VER.
+Thus in the paths of knowledge many stray,
+And from the means of life fetch their decay.
+
+WILL SUM. Heigho. Here is a coil indeed to bring beggars to stocks. I
+promise you truly I was almost asleep; I thought I had been at a sermon.
+Well, for this one night's exhortation, I vow, by God's grace, never to
+be good husband while I live. But what is this to the purpose? "Hur come
+to Fowl," as the Welshman says, "and hur pay an halfpenny for hur seat,
+and hur hear the preacher talg, and hur talg very well, by gis[37]; but
+yet a cannot make her laugh: go to a theatre and hear a Queen's Fice,
+and he make hur laugh, and laugh hur belly full." So we come hither to
+laugh and be merry, and we hear a filthy, beggarly oration in the praise
+of beggary. It is a beggarly poet that writ it; and that makes him so
+much commend it, because he knows not how to mend himself. Well, rather
+than he shall have no employment but lick dishes, I will set him a work
+myself, to write in praise of the art of stooping, and how there never
+was any famous thresher, porter, brewer, pioneer, or carpenter that had
+straight back. Repair to my chamber, poor fellow, when the play is done,
+and thou shalt see what I will say to thee.
+
+SUM. Vertumnus, call Solstitium.
+
+VER. Solstitium, come into the court: without, peace there below! make
+room for Master Solstitium.
+
+    _Enter_ SOLSTITIUM, _like an aged hermit, carrying a pair of
+    balances, with an hour-glass in either of them--one hour-glass
+    white, the other black: he is brought in by a number of Shepherds,
+    playing upon recorders_.[38]
+
+SOL. All hail to Summer, my dread sovereign lord.
+
+SUM. Welcome, Solstitium: thou art one of them,
+To whose good husbandry we have referr'd
+Part of those small revenues that we have.
+What hast thou gain'd us? what hast thou brought in?
+
+SOL. Alas, my lord! what gave you me to keep
+But a few day's-eyes[39] in my prime of youth?
+And those I have converted to white hairs;
+I never lov'd ambitiously to climb,
+Or thrust my hand too far into the fire.
+To be in heaven, sure, is a bless'd thing;
+But Atlas-like to prop heaven on one's back,
+Cannot but be more labour than delight.
+Such is the state of men in honour plac'd;
+They are gold vessels made for servile uses;
+High trees that keep the weather from low houses,
+But cannot shield the tempest from themselves.
+I love to dwell betwixt the hills and dales;
+Neither to be so great to be envied,
+Nor yet so poor the world should pity me.
+_Inter utrumque tene, medio tutissimus ibis_[40].
+
+SUM. What dost thou with those balances thou bear'st?
+
+SOL. In them I weigh the day and night alike:
+This white glass is the hour-glass of the day,
+This black one the just measure of the night.
+One more than other holdeth not a grain;
+Both serve time's just proportion to maintain.
+
+SUM. I like thy moderation wondrous well;
+And this thy balance-weighing, the white glass
+And black, with equal poise and steadfast hand,
+A pattern is to princes and great men,
+How to weigh all estates indifferently;
+The spiritualty and temporalty alike:
+Neither to be too prodigal of smiles,
+Nor too severe in frowning without cause.
+If you be wise, you monarchs of the earth,
+Have two such glasses still before your eyes;
+Think as you have a white glass running on,
+Good days, friends, favour, and all things at beck,
+So this white glass run out (as out it will)
+The black comes next; your downfall is at hand.
+Take this of me, for somewhat I have tried;
+A mighty ebb follows a mighty tide.
+But say, Solstitium, hadst thou nought besides?
+Nought but day's-eyes and fair looks gave I thee?
+
+SOL. Nothing, my lord, nor aught more did I ask.
+
+SUM. But hadst thou always kept thee in my sight,
+Thy good deserts, though silent, would have ask'd.
+
+SOL. Deserts, my lord, of ancient servitors
+Are like old sores, which may not be ripp'd up.
+Such use these times have got, that none must beg,
+But those that have young limbs to lavish fast.
+
+SUM. I grieve no more regard was had of thee:
+A little sooner hadst thou spoke to me,
+Thou hadst been heard, but now the time is past:
+Death waiteth at the door for thee and me.
+Let us go measure out our beds in clay;
+Nought but good deeds hence shall we bear away.
+Be, as thou wert, best steward of my hours,
+And so return into thy country bow'rs.
+
+    [_Here_, SOLSTITIUM _goes out with his music, as he comes in_.
+
+WILL SUM. Fie, fie, of honesty, fie! Solstitium is an ass, perdy, this
+play is a gallimaufry. Fetch me some drink, somebody. What cheer, what
+cheer, my hearts? Are not you thirsty with listening to this dry sport?
+What have we to do with scales and hour-glasses, except we were bakers
+or clock-keepers? I cannot tell how other men are addicted, but it is
+against my profession to use any scales but such as we play at with a
+bowl, or keep any hours but dinner or supper. It is a pedantical thing
+to respect times and seasons: if a man be drinking with good fellows
+late, he must come home for fear the gates be shut: when I am in my warm
+bed, I must rise to prayers, because the bell rings. I like no such
+foolish customs. Actors, bring now a black jack and a rundlet of Rhenish
+wine, disputing of the antiquity of red noses: let the Prodigal
+Child[41] come in in his doublet and hose all greasy, his shirt hanging
+forth, and ne'er a penny in his purse, and talk what a fine thing it is
+to walk summerly, or sit whistling under a hedge, and keep hogs. Go
+forward, in grace and virtue to proceed, but let us have no more of
+these grave matters.
+
+SUM. Vertumnus, will Sol come before us?
+
+VER. Sol, Sol; _ut, re, mi, fa, sol_![42]
+Come to church, while the bell toll.
+
+    _Enter_ SOLSTITIUM _very richly attired,
+    with a noise of musicians before him_.
+
+SUM. Ay, marry, here comes majesty in pomp,
+Resplendent Sol, chief planet of the heavens!
+He is our servant, looks he ne'er so big.
+
+SOL. My liege, what crav'st thou at thy vassal's hands?
+
+SUM. Hypocrisy, how it can change his shape!
+How base is pride from his own dunghill put!
+How I have rais'd thee, Sol. I list not tell,
+Out of the ocean of adversity,
+To sit in height of honour's glorious heaven,
+To be the eyesore[43] of aspiring eyes:
+To give the day her life from thy bright looks,
+And let nought thrive upon the face of earth,
+From which thou shalt withdraw thy powerful smiles.
+What hast thou done, deserving such high grace?
+What industry or meritorious toil
+Canst thou produce to prove my gift well-placed?
+Some service or some profit I expect:
+None is promoted but for some respect.
+
+SOL. My lord, what need these terms betwixt us two?
+Upbraiding ill-beseems your bounteous mind:
+I do you honour for advancing me.
+Why, 'tis a credit for your excellence
+To have so great a subject as I am:
+This is your glory and magnificence,
+That, without stooping of your mightiness,
+Or taking any whit from your high state,
+You can make one as mighty as yourself.
+
+AUT. O arrogance exceeding all belief!
+Summer, my lord, this saucy upstart Jack,
+That now doth rule the chariot of the sun,
+And makes all stars derive their light from him,
+Is a most base, insinuating slave,
+The sum[44] of parsimony and disdain;
+One that will shine on friends and foes alike,
+That under brightest smiles hideth black show'rs
+Whose envious breath doth dry up springs and lake
+And burns the grass, that beasts can get no food.
+
+WIN. No dunghill hath so vile an excrement,
+But with his beams he will thenceforth exhale.
+The fens and quagmires tithe to him their filth:
+Forth purest mines he sucks a gainful dross.
+Green ivy-bushes at the vintner's doors
+He withers, and devoureth all their sap.
+
+AUT. Lascivious and intemperate he is:
+The wrong of Daphne is a well-known tale.
+Each evening he descends to Thetis' lap,
+The while men think he bathes him in the sea.
+O, but when he returneth whence he came
+Down to the west, then dawns his deity,
+Then doubled is the swelling of his looks.
+He overloads his car with orient gems,
+And reins his fiery horses with rich pearl.
+He terms himself the god of poetry,
+And setteth wanton songs unto the lute.
+
+WIN. Let him not talk, for he hath words at will,
+And wit to make the baldest[45] matter good.
+
+SUM. Bad words, bad wit! O, where dwells faith or truth?
+Ill usury my favours reap from thee,
+Usurping Sol, the hate of heaven and earth.
+
+SOL. If envy unconfuted may accuse,
+Then innocence must uncondemned die.
+The name of martyrdom offence hath gain'd
+When fury stopp'd a froward judge's ears.
+Much I'll not say (much speech much folly shows):
+What I have done you gave me leave to do.
+The excrements you bred whereon I feed;
+To rid the earth of their contagious fumes,
+With such gross carriage did I load my beam
+I burnt no grass, I dried no springs and lakes;
+I suck'd no mines, I wither'd no green boughs,
+But when to ripen harvest I was forc'd
+To make my rays more fervent than I wont.
+For Daphne's wrongs and 'scapes in Thetis' lap,
+All gods are subject to the like mishap.
+Stars daily fall ('tis use is all in all),
+And men account the fall but nature's course.
+Vaunting my jewels hasting to the west,
+Or rising early from the grey-ey'd morn,
+What do I vaunt but your large bountyhood,
+And show how liberal a lord I serve?
+Music and poetry, my two last crimes,
+Are those two exercises of delight,
+Wherewith long labours I do weary out.
+The dying swan is not forbid to sing:
+The waves of Hebrus[46] play'd on Orpheus' strings,
+When he (sweet music's trophy) was destroy'd.
+And as for poetry, words'[47] eloquence
+(Dead Phaeton's three sisters' funeral tears
+That by the gods were to Electrum turn'd),
+Not flint or rock, of icy cinders flam'd,
+Deny the force[48] of silver-falling streams.
+Envy enjoyeth poetry's unrest;[49]
+In vain I plead; well is to me a fault,
+And these my words seem the sleight[50] web of art,
+And not to have the taste of sounder truth.
+Let none but fools be car'd for of the wise:
+Knowledge' own children knowledge most despise.
+
+SUM. Thou know'st too much to know to keep the mean:
+He that sees all things oft sees not himself.
+The Thames is witness of thy tyranny,
+Whose waves thou dost exhaust for winter show'rs.
+The naked channel 'plains her of thy spite,
+That laid'st her entrails unto open sight.[51]
+Unprofitably borne to man and beast,
+Which like to Nilus yet doth hide his head,
+Some few years since[52] thou lett'st o'erflow these walks,
+And in the horse-race headlong ran at race,
+While in a cloud thou hidd'st thy burning face.
+Where was thy care to rid contagious filth,
+When some men wet-shod (with his waters) droop'd?[53]
+Others that ate the eels his heat cast up
+Sicken'd and died by them impoisoned.
+Sleptest, or kept'st thou then Admetus' sheep,
+Thou drov'st not back these flowings of the deep?
+
+SOL. The winds, not I, have floods and tides in chase.
+Diana, whom our fables call the moon,
+Only commandeth o'er the raging main:
+She leads his wallowing offspring up and down,
+She waning, all streams ebb: in the year
+She was eclips'd, when that the Thames was bare.
+
+SUM. A bare conjecture, builded on per-haps.[54]
+In laying thus the blame upon the moon,
+Thou imitat'st subtle Pythagoras
+Who, what he would the people should believe,
+The same he wrote with blood upon a glass,
+And turn'd it opposite 'gainst the new moon,
+Whose beams, reflecting on it with full force,
+Show'd all those lines to them that stood behind,
+Most plainly writ in circle of the moon:
+And then he said: not I, but the new moon,
+Fair Cynthia, persuades you this and that.
+With like collusion shalt thou now blind me;
+But for abusing both the moon and me
+Long shalt thou be eclipsed by the moon,
+And long in darkness live and see no light--
+Away with him, his doom hath no reverse!
+
+SOL. What is eclips'd will one day shine again:
+Though winter frowns, the spring will ease my pain.
+Time from the brow doth wipe out every stain.
+                                       [_Exit_ SOL.
+
+WILL SUM. I think the sun is not so long in passing through the twelve
+signs, as the son of a fool hath been disputing here about _had I
+wist_.[55] Out of doubt, the poet is bribed of some that have a mess of
+cream to eat, before my lord go to bed yet, to hold him half the night
+with raff-raff of the rumming of Elinor.[56] If I can tell what it
+means, pray God I may never get breakfast more, when I am hungry. Troth,
+I am of opinion he is one of those hieroglyphical writers, that by the
+figures of beasts, plants, and of stones, express the mind, as we do in
+A B C; or one that writes under hair, as I have heard of a certain
+notary, Histiaesus,[57] who, following Darius in the Persian wars, and
+desirous to disclose some secrets of import to his friend Aristagoras,
+that dwelt afar off, found out this means. He had a servant, that had
+been long sick of a pain in his eyes, whom, under pretence of curing his
+malady, he shaved from one side of his head to the other, and with a
+soft pencil wrote upon his scalp (as on parchment) the discourse of his
+business, the fellow all the while imagining his master had done nothing
+but 'noint his head with a feather. After this he kept him secretly in
+his tent, till his hair was somewhat grown, and then willed him to go to
+Aristagoras into the country, and bid him shave him as he had done, and
+he should have perfect remedy. He did so, Aristagoras shaved him with
+his own hands, read his friend's letter, and when he had done, washed it
+out, that no man should perceive it else, and sent him home to buy him a
+nightcap. If I wist there were any such knavery, or Peter Bales's
+brachygraphy,[58] under Sol's bushy hair, I would have a barber, my host
+of the Murrion's Head, to be his interpreter, who would whet his razor
+on his Richmond cap, and give him the terrible cut like himself, but he
+would come as near as a quart pot to the construction of it. To be
+sententious, not superfluous, Sol should have been beholding to the
+barber, and not to the beard-master.[59] Is it pride that is shadowed
+under this two-legg'd sun, that never came nearer heaven than Dubber's
+hill? That pride is not my sin, Sloven's Hall, where I was born, be my
+record. As for covetousness, intemperance, and exaction, I meet with
+nothing in a whole year but a cup of wine for such vices to be
+conversant in. _Pergite porro_, my good children,[60] and multiply the
+sins of your absurdities, till you come to the full measure of the grand
+hiss, and you shall hear how we shall purge rheum with censuring your
+imperfections.
+
+SUM. Vertumnus, call Orion.
+
+VER. Orion, Urion, Arion; My lord thou must look upon. Orion, gentleman
+dog-keeper, huntsman, come into the court: look you bring all hounds and
+no bandogs. Peace there, that we may hear their horns blow.
+
+    _Enter_ ORION _like a hunter, with a horn about his neck, all
+    his men after the same sort hallooing and blowing their horns_.
+
+ORION. Sirrah, was't thou that call'd us from our game?
+How durst thou (being but a petty god)
+Disturb me in the entrance of my sports?
+
+SUM. 'Twas I, Orion, caus'd thee to be call'd.
+
+ORION. 'Tis I, dread lord, that humbly will obey.
+
+SUM. How happ'st thou left'st the heavens to hunt below?
+As I remember thou wert Hyrieus'[61] son,
+Whom of a huntsman Jove chose for a star,
+And thou art call'd the Dog-star, art thou not?
+
+AUT. Please it, your honour, heaven's circumference
+Is not enough for him to hunt and range,
+But with those venom-breathed curs he leads,
+He comes to chase health from our earthly bounds.
+Each one of those foul-mouthed, mangy dogs
+Governs a day (no dog but hath his day):[62]
+And all the days by them so governed
+The dog-days hight; infectious fosterers
+Of meteors from carrion that arise,
+And putrified bodies of dead men,
+Are they engender'd to that ugly shape,
+Being nought else but [ill-]preserv'd corruption.
+'Tis these that, in the entrance of their reign,
+The plague and dangerous agues have brought in.
+They arre[63] and bark at night against the moon,
+For fetching in fresh tides to cleanse the streets,
+They vomit flames and blast the ripen'd fruits:
+They are death's messengers unto all those
+That sicken, while their malice beareth sway.
+
+ORION. A tedious discourse built on no ground.
+A silly fancy, Autumn, hast thou told,
+Which no philosophy doth warrantise,
+No old-received poetry confirms.
+I will not grace thee by refuting thee;
+Yet in a jest (since thou rail'st so 'gainst dogs)
+I'll speak a word or two in their defence.
+That creature's best that comes most near to men;
+That dogs of all come nearest, thus I prove:
+First, they excel us in all outward sense,
+Which no one of experience will deny:
+They hear, they smell, they see better than we.
+To come to speech, they have it questionless,
+Although we understand them not so well.
+They bark as good old Saxon as may be,
+And that in more variety than we.
+For they have one voice when they are in chase:
+Another when they wrangle for their meat:
+Another when we beat them out of doors.
+That they have reason, this I will allege;
+They choose those things that are most fit for them,
+And shun the contrary all that they may.[64]
+They know what is for their own diet best,
+And seek about for't very carefully.
+At sight of any whip they run away,
+As runs a thief from noise of hue and cry.
+Nor live they on the sweat of others' brows,
+But have their trades to get their living with--
+Hunting and coneycatching, two fine arts.
+Yea, there be of them, as there be of men,
+Of every occupation more or less:
+Some carriers, and they fetch; some watermen,
+And they will dive and swim when you bid them;
+Some butchers, and they worry sheep by night;
+Some cooks, and they do nothing but turn spits.
+Chrysippus holds dogs are logicians,
+In that, by study and by canvassing,
+They can distinguish 'twixt three several things:
+As when he cometh where three broad ways meet,
+And of those three hath stay'd at two of them,
+By which he guesseth that the game went not,
+Without more pause he runneth on the third;
+Which, as Chrysippus saith, insinuates
+As if he reason'd thus within himself:
+Either he went this, that, or yonder way,
+But neither that nor yonder, therefore this.
+But whether they logicians be or no,
+Cynics they are, for they will snarl and bite;
+Right courtiers to flatter and to fawn;
+Valiant to set upon the[ir] enemies;
+Most faithful and most constant to their friends.
+Nay, they are wise, as Homer witnesseth
+Who, talking of Ulysses' coming home,
+Saith all his household but Argus his dog
+Had quite forgot him: ay, his deep insight[65]
+Nor Pallas' art in altering his shape,
+Nor his base weeds, nor absence twenty years,
+Could go beyond or any way delude.
+That dogs physicians are, thus I infer;
+They are ne'er sick, but they know their disease,
+And find out means to ease them of their grief;
+Special good surgeons to cure dangerous wounds:
+For, stricken with a stake into the flesh,
+This policy they use to get it out:
+They trail one of their feet upon the ground,
+And gnaw the flesh about where the wound is
+Till it be clean drawn out: and then, because
+Ulcers and sores kept foul are hardly cur'd,
+They lick and purify it with their tongue,
+And well observe Hippocrates' old rule,
+The only medicine for the foot is rest:
+For if they have the least hurt in their feet,
+They bear them up and look they be not stirr'd.
+When humours rise, they eat a sovereign herb,
+Whereby what cloys their stomachs they cast up;
+And as some writers of experience tell,
+They were the first invented vomiting.
+Sham'st thou not, Autumn, unadvisedly
+To slander such rare creatures as they be?
+
+SUM. We call'd thee not, Orion, to this end,
+To tell a story of dogs' qualities.
+With all thy hunting how are we enrich'd?
+What tribute pay'st thou us for thy high place?
+
+ORION. What tribute should I pay you out of nought?
+Hunters do hunt for pleasure, not for gain.
+While dog-days last, the harvest safely thrives;
+The sun burns hot to finish up fruits' growth;
+There is no blood-letting to make men weak.
+Physicians in their Cataposia
+Or little Elinctoria,
+Masticatorum, and Cataplasmata:
+Their gargarisms, clysters, and pitch'd-cloths,
+Their perfumes, syrups, and their triacles,
+Refrain to poison the sick patients,
+And dare not minister, till I be out.
+Then none will bathe, and so are fewer drown'd.
+All lust is perilsome, therefore less us'd!
+In brief, the year without me cannot stand.
+Summer, I am thy staff and thy right hand.
+
+SUM. A broken staff, a lame right hand I had,
+If thou wert all the stay that held me up,
+_Nihil violentum perpetuum_.
+No violence that liveth to old age.
+Ill-govern'd star, that never bod'st good luck,
+I banish thee a twelvemonth and a day
+Forth of my presence; come not in my sight,
+Nor show thy head so much as in the night.
+
+ORION. I am content: though hunting be not out,
+We will go hunt in hell for better hap.
+One parting blow, my hearts, unto our friends,
+To bid the fields and huntsmen all farewell.
+Toss up your bugle-horns unto the stars:
+Toil findeth ease, peace follows after wars.
+                                        [_Exit_.
+
+    [_Here they go out, blowing their horns, and
+    hallooing as they came in_.
+
+WILL SUM. Faith, this scene of Orion is right _prandium caninum_, a
+dog's dinner which, as it is without wine, so here's a coil about dogs
+without wit. If I had thought the ship of fools[66] would have stay'd to
+take in fresh water at the Isle of Dogs, I would have furnish'd it with
+a whole kennel of collections to the purpose. I have had a dog myself,
+that would dream and talk in his sleep, turn round like Ned fool, and
+sleep all night in a porridge-pot. Mark but the skirmish between
+Sixpence and the fox, and it is miraculous how they overcome one another
+in honourable courtesy. The fox, though he wears a chain, runs as though
+he were free; mocking us (as it is a crafty beast), because we, having a
+lord and master to attend on, run about at our pleasures, like
+masterless men. Young Sixpence, the best page his master hath, plays a
+little, and retires. I warrant he will not be far out of the way when
+his master goes to dinner. Learn of him, you diminutive urchins, how to
+behave yourselves in your vocation: take not up your standings in a
+nut-tree, when you should be waiting on my lord's trencher. Shoot but a
+bit at butts; play but a span at points. Whatever you do, _memento
+mori_--remember to rise betimes in the morning.
+
+SUM. Vertumnus, call Harvest.
+
+VER. Harvest, by west and by north, by south and by east,
+Show thyself like a beast.
+Goodman Harvest, yeoman, come in and say what you can. Boom for the
+scythe and the sickle there.
+
+    _Enter_ HARVEST, _with a scythe on his neck, and all
+    his reapers with sickles, and a great black bowl with
+    a posset in it, borne before him; they come in singing.
+
+        The Song.
+
+        Merry, merry, merry: cheery, cheery, cheery,
+          Trowl the blade bowl[67] to me;
+        Hey derry, derry, with a poup and a lerry,
+          I'll trowl it again to thee:
+
+        Hooky, hooky, we have shorn,
+          And we have bound,
+        And we have brought Harvest
+          Home to town_.
+
+SUM. Harvest, the bailiff of my husbandry,
+What plenty hast thou heap'd into our barns?
+I hope thou hast sped well, thou art so blithe.
+
+HAR. Sped well or ill, sir, I drink to you on the same.
+Is your throat clear to help us sing, _Hooky, hooky?
+
+        [Here they all sing after him.
+
+        Hooky, hooky, we have shorn,
+          And we have bound;
+        And we have brought Harvest
+          Home to town_.
+
+AUT. Thou Corydon, why answer'st not direct?
+
+HAR. Answer? why, friend, I am no tapster, to say, Anon, anon, sir:[68]
+but leave you to molest me, goodman tawny-leaves, for fear (as the
+proverb says, leave is light) so I mow off all your leaves with my
+scythe.
+
+WIN. Mock not and mow[69] not too long; you were best not,[70]
+For fear we whet your scythe upon your pate.
+
+SUM. Since thou art so perverse in answering,
+Harvest, hear what complaints are brought to me.
+Thou art accused by the public voice
+For an engrosser of the common store;
+A carl that hast no conscience nor remorse,
+But dost impoverish the fruitful earth,
+To make thy garners rise up to the heavens.
+To whom giv'st thou? who feedeth at thy board?
+No alms, but [an] unreasonable gain
+Digests what thy huge iron teeth devour:
+Small beer, coarse bread, the hind's and beggar's cry,
+Whilst thou withholdest both the malt and flour,
+And giv'st us bran and water (fit for dogs).
+
+HAR. Hooky, hooky! if you were not my lord, I would say you lie. First
+and foremost, you say I am a grocer. A grocer is a citizen: I am no
+citizen, therefore no grocer. A hoarder up of grain: that's false; for
+not so much for my elbows eat wheat every time I lean upon them.[71] A
+carl: that is as much as to say, a coneycatcher of good fellowship. For
+that one word you shall pledge me a carouse: eat a spoonful of the curd
+to allay your choler. My mates and fellows, sing no more _Merry, merry_,
+but weep out a lamentable _Hooky, hooky_, and let your sickles cry--
+
+    _Sick, sick, and very sick,
+      And side, and for the time;
+    For Harvest your master is
+      Abusd without reason or rhyme_.
+
+I have no conscience, I? I'll come nearer to you, and yet I am no scab,
+nor no louse. Can you make proof wherever I sold away my conscience, or
+pawned it? Do you know who would buy it, or lend any money upon it? I
+think I have given you the pose. Blow your nose, Master Constable. But
+to say that I impoverish the earth, that I rob the man in the moon, that
+I take a purse on the top of St Paul's steeple; by this straw and thread,
+I swear you are no gentleman, no proper man, no honest man, to make me
+sing, _O man in desperation_.[72]
+
+SUM. I must give credit unto what I hear!
+For other than I hear detract[73] I nought.
+
+HAR. Ay, ay; nought seek, nought have: An ill-husband is the first step
+to a knave. You object, I feed none at my board: I am sure, if you were
+a hog, you would never say so: for, sir reverence of their worships,
+they feed at my stable-table every day. I keep good hospitality for hens
+and geese: gleaners are oppressed with heavy burthens of my bounty:
+They take me and eat me to the very bones,
+Till there be nothing left but gravel and stones;
+And yet I give no alms, but devour all! They say, what a man cannot hear
+well, you hear with your harvest-ears; but if you heard with your
+harvest-ears, that is, with the ears of corn which my alms-cart scatters,
+they would tell you that I am the very poor man's box of pity; that there
+are more holes of liberality open in Harvest's heart than in a sieve or
+a dust-box. Suppose you were a craftsman or an artificer, and should come
+to buy corn of me, you should have bushels of me; not like the baker's
+loaf, that should weigh but six ounces, but usury for your money,
+thousands for one. What would you have more? Eat me out of my apparel,[74]
+if you will, if you suspect me for a miser.
+
+SUM. I credit thee, and think thou wert belied.
+But tell me, hast thou a good crop this year?
+
+HAR. Hay, good[75] plenty, which was so sweet
+and so good, that when I jerted my whip, and said
+to my horses but _hay_, they would go as they were
+mad.
+
+SUM. But _hay_ alone thou sayst not, but _hay-ree_[76].
+
+HAR. I sing hay-ree, that is, hay and rye; meaning that they shall have
+hay and rye, their bellyfuls, if they will draw hard. So we say, _Wa
+hay_, when they go out of the way; meaning that they shall want hay if
+they will not do as they should do.
+
+SUM. How thrive thy oats, thy barley, and thy wheat?
+
+HAR. My oats grow like a cup of beer that makes the brewer rich; my rye
+like a cavalier, that wears a huge feather in his cap, but hath no
+courage in his heart; hath[77] a long stalk, a goodly husk, but nothing
+so great a kernel as it was wont. My barley, even as many a novice, is
+cross-bitten,[78] as soon as ever he peeps out of the shell, so was it
+frost-bitten in the blad, yet pick'd up his crumbs again afterward, and
+bad "Fill pot, hostess," in spite of a dear year. As for my peas and my
+vetches, they are famous, and not to be spoken of.
+
+AUT. Ay, ay, such country-button'd caps as you
+Do want no fetches[79] to undo great towns.
+
+HAR. Will you make good your words that we want no fetches?
+
+WIN. Ay, that he shall.
+
+HAR. Then fetch us a cloak-bag, to carry away yourself in.
+
+SUM. Plough-swains are blunt, and will taunt bitterly.
+Harvest, when all is done, thou art the man:
+Thou dost me the best service of them all.
+Rest from thy labours, till the year renews,
+And let the husbandmen [all] sing thy praise.
+
+HAR. Rest from my labours, and let the husbandmen sing my praise? Nay,
+we do not mean to rest so: by your leave, we'll have a largess amongst
+you, ere we part.
+
+ALL. A largess, a largess, a largess!
+
+WILL SUM. Is there no man will give them a hiss for a largess?
+
+HAR. No, that there is not, goodman Lungis.[80] I see charity waxeth
+cold, and I think this house be her habitation, for it is not very hot:
+we were as good even put up our pipes and sing _Merry, merry_, for we
+shall get no money.
+
+            [_Here they all go out singing.
+
+        Merry, merry, merry: cheery, cheery, cheery!
+          Trowl the black bowl to me.
+        Hey derry, derry, with a poup and a lerry;
+          I'll trowl it again to thee.
+
+        Hooky, hooky, we have shorn
+          And we have bound,
+        And we have brought Harvest
+          Home to town_.
+
+WILL SUM. Well, go thy ways, thou bundle of straw: I'll give thee this
+gift; thou shalt be a clown while thou liv'st. As lusty as they are,
+they run on the score with George's wife for their posset; and God knows
+who shall pay goodman Yeoman for his wheat sheaf. They may sing well
+enough--
+
+        _"Trowl the black bowl to me,
+        Trowl the black bowl to me_;"
+
+for a hundred to one but they will all be drunk, ere they go to bed. Yet
+of a slavering fool, that hath no conceit in anything but in carrying a
+wand in his hand with commendation, when he runneth by the highway-side,
+this stripling Harvest hath done reasonable well. O, that somebody had
+the sense to set his thatched suit on fire, and so lighted him out: if I
+had but a jet[81] ring on my finger, I might have done with him what I
+list. I had spoiled him, had I[82] took his apparel prisoner; for, it
+being made of straw, and the nature of jet to draw straw unto it, I
+would have nailed him to the pommel of my chair, till the play were
+done, and then have carried him to my chamber-door, and laid him at the
+threshold, as a wisp or a piece of mat, to wipe my shoes on every time I
+come up dirty.
+
+SUM. Vertumnus, call Bacchus.
+
+VER. Bacchus, Baccha, Bacchum: God Bacchus, God fat-back,
+Baron of double beer and bottle ale,
+Come in and show thy nose that is nothing pale:
+Back, back, that[83] God barrel-belly may enter.
+
+    _Enter_ BACCHUS _riding upon an ass trapped in ivy, himself
+    dressed in vine leaves, and a garland of grapes on his head;
+    his companions having all jacks in their hands, and ivy
+    garlands on their heads; they come singing.
+
+    The Song.
+
+    Monsieur Mingo for quaffing doth surpass,
+    In cup, in corn or glass.
+    God Bacchus, do me right,
+    And dub me knight
+                    Domingo_.[84]
+
+BAC. Wherefore didst thou call me, Vertumnus? hast any drink to give me?
+One of you hold my ass, while I light: walk him up and down the hall,
+till I talk a word or two.
+
+SUM. What, Bacchus; still _animus in patina_:[85] no mind but on the pot?
+
+BAC. Why, Summer, Summer, how wouldst do but for rain? What's a fair
+house without water coming to it! Let me see how a smith can work, if he
+have not his trough standing by him. What sets an edge on a knife? the
+grindstone alone? No, the moist element poured upon it, which grinds out
+all gaps, sets a point upon it, and scours it as bright as the
+firmament. So I tell thee, give a soldier wine before he goes to battle;
+it grinds out all gaps, it makes him forget all scars and wounds, and
+fight in the thickest of his enemies, as though he were but at foils
+among his fellows. Give a scholar wine going to his book, or being about
+to invent; it sets a new point on his wit, it glazeth it, it scours it,
+it gives him _acumen_. Plato saith, _Vinum esse fomitem quendam, et
+incitabilem ingenii virtutisque_. Aristotle saith, _Nulla est magna
+scientia absque mixtura dementia_! There is no excellent knowledge
+without mixture of madness, and what makes a man more mad in the head
+than wine? _Qui bene vult [Greek: Pioein] debet ante [Greek: pinein]_:
+He that will do well must drink well. _Prome, prome, potum prome_! Ho,
+butler, a fresh pot! _Nunc est libendum, nunc pede libero terra
+pulsanda_:[86] a pox on him that leaves his drink behind him.
+_Rendezvous_!
+
+SUM. It is wine's custom to be full of words. I pray thee, Bacchus, give
+us _vicissitudinem loquendi_.
+
+BAC. A fiddlestick! ne'er tell me I am full of words. _Faecundi calices,
+quem non fecere disertum; aut bibe[87] aut abi_; either take your
+drink, or you are an infidel.
+
+SUM. I would about thy vintage question thee. How thrive thy vines?
+hadst thou good store of grapes?
+
+BAC. _Vinum quasi venenum_; Wine is poison to a sick body. A sick body
+is no sound body; _ergo_, wine is a pure thing, and is poison to all
+corruption. Try-lill! the hunters whoop to you. I'll stand to it:
+Alexander was a brave man, and yet an arrant drunkard.
+
+WIN. Fie, drunken sot! forgett'st thou where thou art?
+My lord asks thee what vintage thou hast made?
+
+BAC. Our vintage was a vintage, for it did not work upon the advantage:
+it came in the vauntguard of Summer.
+And winds and storms met it by the way,
+And made it cry, alas, and well-a-day!
+
+SUM. That was not well; but all miscarried not?
+
+BAC. Faith, shall I tell no lie? Because you are my countryman, and so
+forth; and a good fellow is a good fellow, though he have never a penny
+in his purse.[88] We had but even pot-luck--little to moisten our lips
+and no more. That same Sol is a pagan and a proselyte: he shined so
+bright all summer, that he burnt more grapes than his beams were worth,
+were every beam as big as a weaver's beam. _A fabis abstinendum_; faith,
+he should have abstained, for what is flesh and blood without his liquor?
+
+AUT. Thou want'st no liquor, nor no flesh and blood.
+I pray thee, may I ask without offence,
+How many tuns of wine hast in thy paunch?
+Methinks that [that is] built like a round church,
+Should yet have some of Julius Caesar's wine:
+I warrant 'twas not broached this hundred year.
+
+BAC. Hear'st thou, dough-belly! because thou talk'st and talk'st, and
+dar'st not drink to me a black jack, wilt thou give me leave to broach
+this little kilderkin of my corpse against thy back? I know thou art but
+a micher,[89] and dar'st not stand me. _A vous, Monsieur Winter_, a
+frolic up-se-frieze:[90] cross, ho.' _super naculum_.[91]
+                                      [_Knocks the jack upon his thumb_.
+
+WIN. Gramercy, Bacchus, as much as though I did. For this time thou must
+pardon me perforce.
+
+BAC. What, give me the disgrace? go to, I say, I am no Pope to pardon
+any man. Ran, ran, tara: cold beer makes good blood. St George for
+England![92] Somewhat is better than nothing. Let me see, hast thou done
+me justice? why so: thou art a king, though there were no more kings in
+the cards but the knave. Summer, wilt thou have a demi-culverin, that
+shall cry _Husty-tusty_, and make thy cup fly fine meal in the element?
+
+SUM. No, keep thy drink, I pray thee, to thyself.
+
+BAC. This Pupilonian in the fool's coat shall have a cast of martins and
+a whiff. To the health of Captain Rinocerotry! Look to it; let him have
+weight and measure.
+
+WILL SUM. What an ass is this! I cannot drink so much, though I should
+burst.
+
+BAC. Fool, do not refuse your moist sustenance: come, come, dog's head
+in the pot; do what you are born to.
+
+WILL SUM. If you will needs make me a drunkard against my will, so it
+is; I'll try what burden my belly is of.
+
+BAC. Crouch, crouch on your knees, fool, when you pledge God Bacchus.
+
+    [_Here_ WILL SUMMER _drinks, and they sing
+    about him_, BACCHUS _begins_.
+
+All. _Monsieur Mingo for quaffing did surpass
+In cup, in can, or glass_.
+
+BAC. Ho, well shot, a toucher, a toucher!
+_For quaffing Toy doth pass,
+In cup, in can, or glass_.[93]
+
+All. _God Bacchus, do him right,
+And dub him knight_.
+
+BAC. Rise up, Sir Robert Toss-pot.
+    [_Here he dubs_ WILL SUMMER _with the black jack_.
+
+SUM. No more of this, I hate it to the death.
+No such deformer of the soul and sense,
+As is this swinish damn'd horn drunkenness.
+Bacchus, for thou abusest so earth's fruits,
+Imprison'd live in cellars and in vaults.
+Let none commit their counsels unto thee;
+Thy wrath be fatal to thy dearest friends;
+Unarmed run upon thy foemen's swords;
+Never fear any plague, before it fall:
+Dropsies and watery tympanies haunt thee;
+Thy lungs with surfeiting be putrified,
+To cause thee have an odious stinking breath;
+Slaver and drivel like a child at mouth;
+Be poor and beggarly in thy old age;
+Let thine own kinsmen laugh when thou complain'st,
+And many tears gain nothing but blind scoffs.
+This is the guerdon due to drunkenness:
+Shame, sickness, misery follow excess.
+
+BAC. Now on my honour, Sim Summer, thou art a bad member, a dunce, a
+mongrel, to discredit so worshipful an art after this order. Thou hast
+cursed me, and I will bless thee. Never cap of Nipitaty[94] in London
+come near thy niggardly habitation! I beseech the gods of good
+fellowship thou may'st fall into a consumption with drinking small beer!
+Every day may'st thou eat fish, and let it stick in the midst of thy
+maw, for want of a cup of wine to swim away in. Venison be _venenum_ to
+thee: and may that vintner have the plague in his house that sells a
+drop of claret to kill the poison of it! As many wounds may'st thou have
+as Caesar had in the senate-house, and get no white wine to wash them
+with; and to conclude, pine away in melancholy and sorrow, before thou
+hast the fourth part of a dram of my juice to cheer up thy spirits.
+
+SUM. Hale him away, he barketh like a wolf:
+It is his drink, not he, that rails on us.
+
+BAC. Nay soft, brother Summer, back with that fool. Here is a snuff in
+the bottom of the jack, enough[95] to light a man to bed withal: we'll
+leave no flocks behind us, whatsoever we do.
+
+SUM. Go drag him hence, I say, when I command.
+
+BAC. Since we must needs go, let's go merrily. Farewell, Sir Robert
+Toss-pot: sing amain _Monsieur Mingo_, whilst I mount up my ass.
+
+    [_Here they go out, singing, "Monsieur Mingo," as they came in_.
+
+WILL SUM. Of all the gods, this Bacchus is the ill-favoured'st
+mis-shapen god that ever I saw. A pox on him! he hath christened me with
+a new nickname of Sir Robert Toss-pot that will not part from me this
+twelvemonth. Ned fool's clothes are so perfumed with the beer he poured
+on me, that there shall not be a Dutchman within twenty miles, but he'll
+smell out and claim kindred of him. What a beastly thing it is to bottle
+up all in a man's belly, when a man must set his guts on a gallon-pot
+last, only to purchase the alehouse title of _boon companion_. "Carouse;
+pledge me, and you dare! 'Swounds, I'll drink with thee for all that
+ever thou art worth!" It is even as two men should strive who should run
+farthest into the sea for a wager. Methinks these are good household
+terms, "Will it please you to be here, sir? I commend me to you! Shall I
+be so bold as trouble you? Saving your tale, I drink to you." And if
+these were put in practice but a year or two in taverns, wine would soon
+fall from six-and-twenty pound a tun, and be beggar's money--a penny a
+quart, and take up his inn with waste beer in the alms-tub. I am a
+sinner as others: I must not say much of this argument. Every one, when
+he is whole, can give advice to them that are sick. My masters, you that
+be good fellows, get you into corners, and sup off your provender
+closely:[96] report hath a blister on her tongue! open taverns are
+tell-tales. _Non peccat quicunque potest peccasse negare_.
+
+SUM. I'll call my servants to account, said I?
+A bad account; worse servants no man hath.
+_Quos credis fidos effuge, tutis eris_:
+The proverb I have prov'd to be too true,
+_Totidem domi hostes habemus quot servos_.
+And that wise caution of Democritus,
+_Servus necessaria possessio, non autem dulcis_:
+Nowhere fidelity and labour dwells.
+How[97] young heads count to build on had I wist.
+Conscience but few respect, all hunt for gain:
+Except the camel have his provender
+Hung at his mouth, he will not travel on.
+Tyresias to Narcissus promised
+Much prosperous hap and many golden days,
+If of his beauty he no knowledge took.
+Knowledge breeds pride, pride breedeth discontent:
+Black discontent, thou urgest to revenge:
+Revenge opes not her ears to poor men's prayers.
+That dolt destruction is she without doubt,
+That hales her forth and feedeth her with nought.
+Simplicity and plainness, you I love!
+Hence, double diligence, thou mean'st deceit:
+Those that now serpent-like creep on the ground,
+And seem to eat the dust, they crouch so low--
+If they be disappointed of their prey,
+Most traitorously will trace their nails and sting.
+Yea, such as, like[98] the lapwing, build their nests
+In a man's dung, come up by drudgery,
+Will be the first that, like that foolish bird,
+Will follow him with yelling and false cries.
+Well[99] sung a shepherd, that now sleeps in skies,[100]
+"Dumb swans do love, and not vain chattering pies."
+In mountains, poets say, Echo is hid,
+For her deformity and monstrous shape:
+Those mountains are the houses of great lords,
+Where Stentor, with his hundred voices, sounds
+A hundred trumps at once with rumour fill'd.
+A woman they imagine her to be,
+Because that sex keep nothing close they hear;
+And that's the reason magic writers frame[101]
+There are more witches women, than of men;
+For women generally, for the most part,
+Of secrets more desirous are than men[102],
+Which having got, they have no power to hold.
+In these times had Echo's first fathers liv'd,
+No woman, but a man, she had been feign'd
+(Though women yet will want no news to prate);
+For men (mean men), the scum and dross of all,
+Will talk and babble of they know not what,
+Upbraid, deprave, and taunt they care not whom.
+Surmises pass for sound approved truths;
+Familiarity and conference,
+That were the sinews of societies,
+Are now for underminings only us'd;
+And novel wits, that love none but themselves,
+Think wisdom's height as falsehood slyly couch'd,
+Seeking each other to o'erthrow his mate.
+O friendship! thy old temple is defac'd:
+Embracing envy,[103] guileful courtesy,
+Hath overgrown fraud-wanting honesty.
+Examples live but in the idle schools:
+Sinon bears all the sway in princes' courts.
+Sickness, be thou my soul's physician;
+Bring the apothecary Death with thee.
+In earth is hell, hell true[104] felicity,
+Compared with this world, the den of wolves!
+
+AUT. My lord, you are too passionate without cause.
+
+WIN. Grieve not for that which cannot be recall'd.
+Is it your servant's carelessness you 'plain?
+Tully by one of his own slaves was slain.
+The husbandman close in his bosom nurs'd
+A subtle snake, that after wrought his bane.
+
+AUT. _Servos fideles liberalitas facit_;
+Where on the contrary, _servitutem_--
+Those that attend upon illiberal lords,
+Whose covetise yields nought else but fair looks,
+Even of those fair looks make their gainful use.
+For, as in Ireland and in Denmark both,
+Witches for gold will sell a man a wind[105]
+Which, in the corner of a napkin wrapp'd,
+Shall blow him safe unto what coast he will;
+So make ill-servants sale of their lord's wind
+Which, wrapp'd up in a piece of parchment,
+Blows many a knave forth danger of the law.
+
+SUM. Enough of this: let me go make my will.
+Ah! it is made, although I hold my peace:
+These two will share betwixt them what I have.
+The surest way to get my will perform'd
+Is to make my executor my heir;
+And he, if all be given him, and none else,
+Unfallibly will see it well-perform'd.
+Lions will feed though none bid them go to.
+Ill-grows the tree affordeth ne'er a graft:
+Had I some issue to sit on my throne,
+My grief would die, death should not hear me groan;
+But when, perforce, these must enjoy my wealth,
+Which thank me not, but enter't as a prey,
+Bequeath'd it is not, but clean cast away.
+Autumn, be thou successor to my seat:
+Hold, take my crown:--look, how he grasps for it!
+Thou shalt not have it yet--but hold it, too;
+Why should I keep what needs I must forego?
+
+WIN. Then, duty laid aside, you do me wrong.
+I am more worthy of it far than he:
+He hath no skill nor courage for to rule.
+A weatherbeaten, bankrupt ass it is
+That scatters and consumeth all he hath:
+Each one do pluck from him without control.
+He is not hot nor cold; a silly soul,
+That fain would please each part[106], if so he might.
+He and the Spring are scholars' favourites:
+What scholars are, what thriftless kind of men,
+Yourself be judge; and judge of him by them.
+When Cerberus was headlong drawn from hell,
+He voided a black poison from his mouth,
+Call'd _Aconitum_, whereof ink was made:
+That ink, with reeds first laid on dried barks,
+Serv'd me awhile to make rude works withal,
+Till Hermes, secretary to the gods,
+Or Hermes Trismegistus, as some will,
+Weary with graving in blind characters
+And figures of familiar beasts and plants,
+Invented letters to write lies withal.
+In them he penn'd the fables of the gods,
+The giants' war, and thousand tales besides.
+After each nation got these toys in use[107]
+There grew up certain drunken parasites,
+Term'd poets, which, for a meal's meat or two.
+Would promise monarchs immortality.
+They vomited in verse all that they knew;
+Feign'd causes and beginnings of the world;
+Fetch'd pedigrees of mountains and of floods
+From men and women whom the gods transform'd.
+If any town or city they pass'd by
+Had in compassion (thinking them madmen)
+Forborne to whip them, or imprison them,
+That city was not built by human hands;
+'Twas rais'd by music, like Megara walls:
+Apollo, poets' patron, founded it,
+Because they found one fitting favour there.
+Musaeus, Linus, Homer, Orpheus,
+Were of this trade, and thereby won their fame.
+
+WILL SUM. _Fama malum, quo non [aliud] velocius ullum_[108].
+
+WIN. Next them a company of ragged knaves,
+Sun-bathing beggars, lazy hedge-creepers,
+Sleeping face upwards in the fields all night,
+Dream'd strange devices of the sun and moon;
+And they, like gipsies, wandering up and down,
+Told fortunes, juggled, nicknam'd all the stars,
+And were of idiots term'd philosophers.
+Such was Pythagoras the silencer;
+Prometheus, Thales, Milesius,
+Who would all things of water should be made:
+Anaximander, Anaxamines,
+That positively said the air was God:
+Zenocrates, that said there were eight gods;
+And Cratoniates and Alcmaeon too,
+Who thought the sun and moon and stars were gods.
+The poorer sort of them, that could get nought,
+Profess'd, like beggarly Franciscan friars,
+And the strict order of the Capuchins,
+A voluntary, wretched poverty,
+Contempt of gold, thin fare, and lying hard.
+Yet he that was most vehement in these,
+Diogenes, the cynic and the dog,
+Was taken coining money in his cell.
+
+WILL SUM. What an old ass was that. Methinks he should have coined
+carrot-roots rather; for, as for money, he had no use for['t], except
+it were to melt, and solder up holes in his tub withal.
+
+WIN. It were a whole Olympiad's work to tell
+How many devilish, _ergo_, armed arts,
+Sprung all as vices of this idleness:
+For even as soldiers not employ'd in wars,
+But living loosely in a quiet state--
+Not having wherewithal to maintain pride,
+Nay, scarce to find their bellies any food--
+Nought but walk melancholy, and devise,
+How they may cozen merchants, fleece young heirs,
+Creep into favour by betraying men,
+Rob churches, beg waste toys, court city dames,
+Who shall undo their husbands for their sakes;
+The baser rabble how to cheat and steal,
+And yet be free from penalty of death:[109]
+So these word-warriors, lazy star-gazers,
+Us'd to no labour but to louse themselves,
+Had their heads fill'd with cozening fantasies.
+They plotted how to make their poverty
+Better esteem'd of than high sovereignty.
+They thought how they might plant a heaven on earth,
+Whereof they would be principal low-gods;[110]
+That heaven they called Contemplation:
+As much to say as a most pleasant sloth,
+Which better I cannot compare than this,
+That if a fellow, licensed to beg,
+Should all his lifetime go from fair to fair
+And buy gape-seed, having no business else.
+That contemplation, like an aged weed,
+Engender'd thousand sects, and all those sects
+Were but as these times, cunning shrouded rogues.
+Grammarians some, and wherein differ they
+From beggars that profess the pedlar's French?[111]
+The poets next, slovenly, tatter'd slaves,
+That wander and sell ballads in the streets.
+Historiographers others there be,
+And they, like lazars, lie[112] by the highway-side,
+That for a penny or a halfpenny
+Will call each knave a good-fac'd gentleman,
+Give honour unto tinkers for good ale,
+Prefer a cobbler 'fore the black prince far,
+If he bestow but blacking on their shoes:
+And as it is the spittle-houses' guise
+Over their gate to write their founders' names,
+Or on the outside of their walls at least,
+In hope by their example others mov'd
+Will be more bountiful and liberal;
+So in the forefront of their chronicles,
+Or _peroratione operis_,
+They learning's benefactors reckon up,
+Who built this college, who gave that free school,
+What king or queen advanced scholars most,
+And in their times what writers flourished.
+Rich men and magistrates, whilst yet they live,
+They flatter palpably, in hope of gain.
+Smooth-tongued orators, the fourth in place--
+Lawyers our commonwealth entitles them--
+Mere swash-bucklers and ruffianly mates,
+That will for twelvepence make a doughty fray,
+Set men for straws together by the ears.
+Sky-measuring mathematicians,
+Gold-breathing alchemists also we have,
+Both which are subtle-witted humourists,
+That get their meals by telling miracles,
+Which they have seen in travelling the skies.
+Vain boasters, liars, makeshifts, they are all;
+Men that, removed from their ink-horn terms,[113]
+Bring forth no action worthy of their bread.
+What should I speak of pale physicians,
+Who as _Fismenus non nasatus_ was
+(Upon a wager that his friends had laid)
+Hir'd to live in a privy a whole year,
+So are they hir'd for lucre and for gain,
+All their whole life to smell on excrements.
+
+WILL SUM. Very true, for I have heard it for a proverb many a time and
+oft, _Hinc os faetidum_; Fah! he stinks like a physician.
+
+WIN. Innumerable monstrous practices
+Hath loitering contemplation brought forth more,
+Which were too long particular to recite:
+Suffice they all conduce unto this end,
+To banish labour, nourish slothfulness,
+Pamper up lust, devise new-fangled sins.
+Nay, I will justify, there is no vice
+Which learning and vile knowledge brought not in,
+Or in whose praise some learned have not wrote.
+The art of murder Machiavel hath penn'd;[114]
+Whoredom hath Ovid to uphold her throne,
+And Aretine of late in Italy,
+Whose Cortigiana teacheth[115] bawds their trade.
+Gluttony Epicurus doth defend,
+And books of the art of cookery confirm,
+Of which Platina hath not writ the least.
+Drunkenness of his good behaviour
+Hath testimonial from where he was born;
+That pleasant work De Arte Bibendi,
+A drunken Dutchman spew'd out few years since.[116]
+Nor wanteth sloth, although sloth's plague be want,
+His paper pillars for to lean upon.[117]
+The praise of nothing pleads his worthiness.[118]
+Folly Erasmus sets a flourish on:
+For baldness a bald ass I have forgot
+Patch'd up a pamphletary periwig.[119]
+Slovenry Grobianus magnifieth:[120]
+Sodomitry a cardinal commends,
+And Aristotle necessary deems.
+In brief, all books, divinity except,
+Are nought but tales of the devil's laws,
+Poison wrapt up in sugar'd words,
+Man's pride, damnation's props, the world's abuse.
+Then censure, good my lord, what bookmen are:
+If they be pestilent members in a state,
+He is unfit to sit at stern of state,
+That favours such as will o'erthrow his state.
+Blest is that government, where no art thrives;
+_Vox pupuli, vox Dei_,
+The vulgar's voice it is the voice of God.
+Yet Tully saith, _Non est concilium in vulgo,
+Non ratio, non discrimen, non differentia_,
+The vulgar have no learning, wit, nor sense.
+Themistocles, having spent all his time
+In study of philosophy and arts,
+And noting well the vanity of them,
+Wish'd, with repentance for his folly pass'd,
+Some would teach him th'art of oblivion,
+How to forget the arts that he had learn'd.
+And Cicero, whom we alleged before,
+(As saith Valerius), stepping into old age,
+Despised learning, loathed eloquence.
+Naso, that could speak nothing but pure verse,
+And had more wit than words to utter it,
+And words as choice as ever poet had,
+Cried and exclaim'd in bitter agony,
+When knowledge had corrupted his chaste mind:
+_Discite, qui sapitis, non haec quae scimus inertes,
+Sed trepidas acies et fera bella sequi_.[121]
+You that be wise, and ever mean to thrive,
+O, study not these toys we sluggards use,
+But follow arms, and wait on barbarous wars.
+Young men, young boys, beware of schoolmasters;
+They will infect you, mar you, blear your eyes:
+They seek to lay the curse of God on you,
+Namely, confusion of languages,
+Wherewith those that the Tower of Babel built
+Accursed were in the world's infancy.
+Latin, it was the speech of infidels;
+Logic hath nought to say in a true cause;
+Philosophy is curiosity;
+And Socrates was therefore put to death,
+Only for he was a philosopher.
+Abhor, contemn, despise these damned snares.
+
+WILL SUM. Out upon it! who would be a scholar? not I, I promise you: my
+mind always gave me this learning was such a filthy thing, which made me
+hate it so as I did. When I should have been at school construing,
+_Batte, mi fili, mi fili, mi Batte_, I was close under a hedge, or under
+a barn-wall, playing at span-counter or jack-in-a-box. My master beat
+me, my father beat me, my mother gave me bread and butter, yet all this
+would not make me a squitter-book.[122] It was my destiny; I thank her
+as a most courteous goddess, that she hath not cast me away upon
+gibridge. O, in what a mighty vein am I now against horn-books! Here,
+before all this company, I profess myself an open enemy to ink and
+paper. I'll make it good upon the accidence, body [of me,] that in
+speech is the devil's paternoster. Nouns and pronouns, I pronounce you
+as traitors to boys' buttocks; syntaxis and prosodia, you are tormentors
+of wit, and good for nothing, but to get a schoolmaster twopence a-week.
+Hang, copies! Fly out, phrase-books! let pens be turn'd to pick-tooths!
+Bowls, cards, and dice, you are the true liberal sciences! I'll ne'er be
+a goosequill, gentlemen, while I live.
+
+SUM. Winter, with patience unto my grief
+I have attended thy invective tale.
+So much untruth wit never shadowed:
+'Gainst her own bowels thou art's weapons turn'st.
+Let none believe thee that will ever thrive.
+Words have their course, the wind blows where it lists,
+He errs alone in error that persists.
+For thou 'gainst Autumn such exceptions tak'st,
+I grant his overseer thou shalt be,
+His treasurer, protector, and his staff;
+He shall do nothing without thy consent:
+Provide thou for his weal and his content.
+
+WIN. Thanks, gracious lord; so I'll dispose of him,
+As it shall not repent you of your gift.
+
+AUT. On such conditions no crown will I take.
+I challenge Winter for my enemy;
+A most insatiate, miserable carl,
+That to fill up his garners to the brim
+Cares not how he endamageth the earth,
+What poverty he makes it to endure!
+He overbars the crystal streams with ice,
+That none but he and his may drink of them:
+All for a foul Backwinter he lays up.
+Hard craggy ways, and uncouth slippery paths
+He frames, that passengers may slide and fall.
+Who quaketh not, that heareth but his name?
+O, but two sons he hath worse than himself:
+Christmas the one, a pinchback, cutthroat churl,
+That keeps no open house, as he should do,
+Delighteth in no game or fellowship,
+Loves no good deeds, and hateth talk;
+But sitteth in a corner turning crabs,
+Or coughing o'er a warmed pot of ale.
+Backwinter th'other, that's his nown[123] sweet boy,
+Who like his father taketh in all points.
+An elf it is, compact of envious pride,
+A miscreant born for a plague to men;
+A monster that devoureth all he meets.
+Were but his father dead, so he would reign,
+Yea, he would go good-near to deal by him
+As Nebuchadnezzar's ungracious son,
+Foul Merodach[124], by his father dealt:
+Who when his sire was turned to an ox
+Full greedily snatch'd up his sovereignty,
+And thought himself a king without control.
+So it fell out, seven years expir'd and gone,
+Nebuchadnezzar came to his shape again,
+And dispossess'd him of the regiment;[125]
+Which my young prince, no little grieving at,
+When that his father shortly after died,
+Fearing lest he should come from death again,
+As he came from an ox to be a man,
+Will'd that his body, 'spoiled of coverture,
+Should be cast forth into the open fields,
+For birds and ravens to devour at will;
+Thinking, if they bare, every one of them,
+A bill-ful of his flesh into their nests,
+He could not rise to trouble him in haste.
+
+WILL SUM. A virtuous son! and I'll lay my life on't he was a cavalier
+and a good fellow.[126]
+
+WIN. Pleaseth your honour, all he says is false.
+For my own part, I love good husbandry,
+But hate dishonourable covetise.
+Youth ne'er aspires to virtue's perfect growth,
+Till the wild oats be sown; and so the earth,
+Until his weeds be rotted by my frosts
+Is not for any seed or tillage fit.
+He must be purged that hath surfeited:
+The fields have surfeited with summer fruits;
+They must be purg'd, made poor, oppress'd with snow,
+Ere they recover their decayed pride.
+For overbarring of the streams with ice,
+Who locks not poison from his children's taste?
+When Winter reigns, the water is so cold,
+That it is poison, present death, to those
+That wash or bathe their limbs in his cold streams.
+The slipp'rier that ways are under us,
+The better it makes us to heed our steps,
+And look, ere we presume too rashly on.
+If that my sons have misbehav'd themselves,
+A God's name, let them answer't 'fore my lord.
+
+AUT. Now, I beseech your honour it may be so.
+
+SUM. With all my heart. Vertumnus, go for them.
+
+WILL SUM. This same Harry Baker[127] is such a necessary fellow to go on
+errands as you shall not find in a country. It is pity but he should
+have another silver arrow, if it be but for crossing the stage with his
+cap on.
+
+SUM. To weary out the time, until they come,
+Sing me some doleful ditty to the lute,
+That may complain my near-approaching death.
+
+_The Song.
+
+Adieu, farewell, earth's bliss;
+This world uncertain is.
+Fond are life's lustful joys,
+Death proves them all but toys.
+None from his darts can fly:
+I am sick, I must die.
+         Lord, have mercy on us!
+
+Rich men, trust not in wealth;
+Gold cannot buy you health.
+Physic himself must fade:
+All things to end are made.
+The plague full swift goes by.
+I am sick, I must die.
+         Lord, have mercy on us!
+
+Beauty is but a flower,
+Which wrinkles will devour:
+Brightness falls from the air;
+Queens have died young and fair.
+Dust hath clos'd Helen's eye.
+I am sick, I must die.
+         Lord, have mercy on us!
+
+Strength stoops into the grave:
+Worms feed on Hector brave.
+Swords may not fight with fate:
+Earth still holds ope her gate.
+Come, come, the hells do cry.
+I am sick, I must die.
+         Lord, have mercy on us!
+
+Wit with his wantonness
+Tasteth death's bitterness.
+Hell's executioner
+Hath no ears to hear,
+What vain art can reply.
+I am sick, I must die.
+         Lord, have mercy on us!
+
+Haste therefore each degree
+To welcome destiny:
+Heaven is our heritage,
+Earth but a player's stage.
+Mount we unto the sky.
+I am sick, I must die.
+         Lord, have mercy on us_!
+
+SUM. Beshrew me, but thy song hath moved me.
+
+WILL SUM. "Lord, have mercy on us," how lamentable 'tis!
+
+    _Enter_ VERTUMNUS, _with_ CHRISTMAS _and_ BACKWINTER.
+
+VER. I have despatched, my lord; I have brought you them you sent me for.
+
+WILL SUM. What say'st thou? hast thou made a good batch? I pray thee,
+give me a new loaf![128]
+
+SUM. Christmas, how chance thou com'st not as the rest,
+Accompanied with some music or some song?
+A merry carol would have grac'd thee well:
+Thy ancestors have us'd it heretofore.
+
+CHRIST. Ay, antiquity was the mother of ignorance: this latter world,
+that sees but with her spectacles, hath spied a pad in those sports
+more than they could.
+
+SUM. What, is't against thy conscience for to sing?
+
+CHRIST. No, not to say, by my troth, if I may get a good bargain.
+
+SUM. Why, thou should'st spend, thou should'st not care to get:
+Christmas is god of hospitality.
+
+CHRIST. So will he never be of good husbandry. I may say to you, there
+is many an old god that is now grown out of fashion; so is the god of
+hospitality.
+
+SUM. What reason canst thou give he should be left?
+
+CHRIST. No other reason, but that gluttony is a sin, and too many
+dunghills are infectious. A man's belly was not made for a powdering
+beef-tub; to feed the poor twelve days, and let them starve all the year
+after, would but stretch out the guts wider than they should be, and so
+make famine a bigger den in their bellies than he had before. I should
+kill an ox, and have some such fellow as Milo to come and eat it up at a
+mouthful; or, like the Sybarites,[129] do nothing all one year but bid
+guests against the next year. The scraping of trenchers you think would
+put a man to no charges: it is not a hundred pound a year would serve
+the scullion in dishclouts. My house stands upon vaults; it will fall,
+if it be overladen with a multitude. Besides, have you never read of a
+city that was undermined and destroyed by moles? So, say I, keep
+hospitality and a whole fair of beggars bid me to dinner every day. What
+with making legs[130], when they thank me at their going away, and
+settling their wallets handsomely on their backs, they would shake as
+many lice on the ground as were able to undermine my house, and undo me
+utterly. Is it their prayers would build it again, if it were overthrown
+by this vermin, would it? I pray, who began feasting and gormandis[ing]
+first, but Sardanapalus, Nero, Heliogabalus, Commodus? tyrants,
+whoremasters, unthrifts. Some call them emperors, but I respect no
+crowns but crowns in the purse. Any man may wear a silver crown that
+hath made a fray in Smithfield, and lost but a piece of his brain-pan;
+and to tell you plain, your golden crowns are little better in
+substance, and many times got after the same sort.
+
+SUM. Gross-headed sot! how light he makes of state!
+
+AUT. Who treadeth not on stars, when they are fall'n?
+Who talketh not of states, when they are dead?
+A fool conceits no further than he sees,
+He hath no sense of aught but what he feels.
+
+CHRIST. Ay, ay; such wise men as you come to beg at such fools' doors
+as we be.
+
+AUT. Thou shutt'st thy door; how should we beg of thee?
+No alms but thy sink carries from thy house.
+
+WILL SUM. And I can tell you that's as plentiful alms for the plague as
+the Sheriff's tub to them of Newgate.
+
+AUT. For feast thou keepest none; cankers thou feed'st.
+The worms will curse thy flesh another day,
+Because it yieldeth them no fatter prey.
+
+CHRIST. What worms do another day, I care not, but I'll be sworn upon a
+whole kilderkin of single beer, I will not have a worm-eaten nose, like
+a pursuivant, while I live. Feasts are but puffing up of the flesh, the
+purveyors for diseases; travel, cost, time, ill-spent. O, it were a trim
+thing to send, as the Romans did, round about the world for provision
+for one banquet. I must rig ships to Samos for peacocks; to Paphos for
+pigeons; to Austria for oysters; to Phasis for pheasants; to Arabia for
+phoenixes; to Meander for swans; to the Orcades for geese; to Phrygia
+for woodcocks; to Malta for cranes; to the Isle of Man for puffins; to
+Ambracia for goats; to Tartole for lampreys; to Egypt for dates; to
+Spain for chestnuts--and all for one feast.
+
+WILL SUM. O sir, you need not: you may buy them at London better cheap.
+
+CHRIST. _Liberalitas liberalitate perit_; Love me little, and love me
+long[131]: our feet must have wherewithal to feed the stones: our backs,
+walls of wool to keep out the cold that besiegeth our warm blood; our
+doors must have bars, our doublets must have buttons. Item, for an old
+sword to scrape the stones before the door with; three halfpence for
+stitching a wooden tankard that was burst. These water-bearers will
+empty the conduit and a man's coffers at once. Not a porter that brings
+a man a letter but will have his penny. I am afraid to keep past one or
+two servants, lest (hungry knaves) they should rob me; and those I keep
+(I warrant) I do not pamper up too lusty. I keep them under with red
+herring and poor John all the year long. I have dammed up all my
+chimneys for fear (though I burn nothing but small coal) my house should
+be set on fire with the smoke. I will not dine[132] but once in a dozen
+year, when there is a great rot of sheep, and I know not what to do with
+them; I keep open house for all the beggars in some of my out-yards:
+marry, they must bring bread with them; I am no baker.
+
+WILL SUM. As good men as you, and have thought it no scorn to serve
+their 'prenticeships on the pillory.
+
+SUM. Winter, is this thy son? Hear'st how he talks?
+
+WIN. I am his father, therefore may not speak,
+But otherwise I could excuse his fault.
+
+SUM. Christmas, I tell thee plain, thou art a snudge[133],
+And were't not that we love thy father well,
+Thou shouldst have felt what 'longs to avarice.
+It is the honour of nobility
+To keep high-days and solemn festivals;
+Then to set their magnificence to view,
+To frolic open with their favourites,
+And use their neighbours with all courtesy;
+When thou in hugger-mugger[134] spend'st thy wealth.
+Amend thy manners, breathe thy rusty gold;
+Bounty will win thee love, when thou art old.
+
+WILL SUM. Ay, that bounty I would fain meet, to borrow money of; he is
+fairly bless'd now-a-days, that 'scapes blows when he begs. _Verba dandi
+et reddendi_ go together in the grammar rule: there is no giving but
+with condition of restoring.
+Ah! _benedicite_:
+Well is he hath no necessity
+Of gold nor of sustenance:
+Slow good hap comes by chance;
+Flattery best fares;
+Arts are but idle wares:
+Fair words want giving hands,
+The _Lento_[135] begs that hath no lands.
+Fie on thee, thou scurvy knave,
+That hast nought, and yet goes brave:
+A prison be thy deathbed,
+Or be hang'd all save the head.
+
+SUM. Back-winter, stand forth.
+
+VER. Stand forth, stand forth: hold up your head; speak out.
+
+BACK-WIN. What should I stand, or whither should I go?
+
+SUM. Autumn accuses thee of sundry crimes,
+Which here thou art to clear or to confess.
+
+BACK-WIN. With thee or Autumn have I nought to do,
+I would you both were hanged, face to face.
+
+SUM. Is this the reverence that thou ow'st to us?
+
+BACK-WIN. Why not? What art thou? shalt thou always live?
+
+AUT. It is the veriest dog in Christendom.
+
+WIN. That's for he barks at such as knave as thou.
+
+BACK-WIN. Would I could bark the sun out of the sky;
+Turn moon and stars to frozen meteors,
+And make the ocean a dry land of ice!
+With tempest of my breath turn up high trees,
+On mountains heap up second mounts of snow
+Which, melted into water, might fall down,
+As fell the deluge on the former world!
+I hate the air, the fire, the spring, the year,
+And whatsoe'er brings mankind any good.
+O that my looks were lightning to blast fruits!
+Would I with thunder presently might die,
+So I might speak in thunder to slay men.
+Earth, if I cannot injure thee enough,
+I'll bite thee with my teeth, I'll scratch thee thus:
+I'll beat down the partition with my heels,
+That, as a mud-vault, severs hell and thee.
+Spirits, come up! 'tis I that knock for you;
+One that envies[136] the world far more than you.
+Come up in millions! millions are too few
+To execute the malice I intend.
+
+SUM. _O scelus inauditum, O vox damnatorum_!
+Not raging Hecuba, whose hollow eyes
+Gave suck to fifty sorrows at one time,
+That midwife to so many murders was,
+Us'd half the execrations that thou dost.
+
+BACK-WIN. More I will use, if more I may prevail.
+Back-winter comes but seldom forth abroad,
+But when he comes, he pincheth to the proof.
+Winter is mild, his son is rough and stern:
+Ovid could well write of my tyranny,
+When he was banish'd to the frozen zone.
+
+SUM. And banish'd be thou from my fertile bounds.
+Winter, imprison him in thy dark cell,
+Or with the winds in bellowing caves of brass
+Let stern Hippotades[137] lock him up safe,
+Ne'er to peep forth, but when thou, faint and weak,
+Want'st him to aid thee in thy regiment.
+
+BACK-WIN. I will peep forth, thy kingdom to supplant.
+My father I will quickly freeze to death,
+And then sole monarch will I sit, and think,
+How I may banish thee as thou dost me.
+
+WIN. I see my downfall written in his brows.
+Convey him hence to his assigned hell!
+Fathers are given to love their sons too well.
+
+                          [_Exit_ BACK-WINTER.
+
+WILL SUM. No, by my troth, nor mothers neither: I am sure I could never
+find it. This Back-winter plays a railing part to no purpose: my small
+learning finds no reason for it, except as a back-winter or an
+after-winter is more raging, tempestuous, and violent than the beginning
+of winter; so he brings him in stamping and raging as if he were mad,
+when his father is a jolly, mild, quiet old man, and stands still and
+does nothing. The court accepts of your meaning. You might have written
+in the margin of your play-book--"Let there be a few rushes laid[138]
+in the place where Back-winter shall tumble, for fear of 'raying[139]
+his clothes:" or set down, "Enter Back-winter, with his boy bringing a
+brush after him, to take off the dust, if need require." But you will
+ne'er have any wardrobe-wit while you live: I pray you, hold the book
+well;[140] [that] we be not _non plus_ in the latter end of the play.
+
+SUM. This is the last stroke my tongue's clock must strike.
+My last will, which I will that you perform.
+My crown I have dispos'd already of.
+Item, I give my wither'd flowers and herbs
+Unto dead corses, for to deck them with.
+My shady walks to great men's servitors,
+Who in their masters' shadows walk secure.
+My pleasant open air and fragrant smells
+To Croydon and the grounds abutting round.
+My heat and warmth to toiling labourers,
+My long days to bondmen and prisoners,
+My short night[s] to young [un]married souls.
+My drought and thirst to drunkards' quenchless throats:
+My fruits to Autumn, my adopted heir:
+My murmuring springs, musicians of sweet sleep,
+To malcontents [who], with their well-tun'd ears,[141]
+Channell'd in a sweet falling quatorzain,
+Do lull their cares[142] asleep, listening themselves.
+And finally, O words, now cleanse your course
+Unto Eliza, that most sacred dame,
+Whom none but saints and angels ought to name,
+All my fair days remaining I bequeath
+To wait upon her, till she be return'd.
+Autumn, I charge thee, when that I am dead,
+Be prest[143] and serviceable at her beck,
+Present her with thy goodliest ripen'd fruits;
+Unclothe no arbours, where she ever sat,
+Touch not a tree thou think'st she may pass by.
+And, Winter, with thy writhen, frosty face,
+Smooth up thy visage, when thou look'st on her;
+Thou never look'st on such bright majesty.
+A charmed circle draw about her court,
+Wherein warm days may dance, and no cold come:
+On seas let winds make war, not vex her rest;
+Quiet enclose her bed, thought fly her breast.
+Ah, gracious queen! though summer pine away,
+Yet let thy flourishing stand at a stay.
+First droop this universal's aged frame,
+Ere any malady thy strength should tame.
+Heaven raise up pillars to uphold thy hand,
+Peace may have still his temple in thy land.
+Lo! I have said; this is the total sum.
+Autumn and Winter, on your faithfulness
+For the performance I do firmly build.
+Farewell, my friends: Summer bids you farewell!
+Archers and bowlers, all my followers,
+Adieu, and dwell with desolation:
+Silence must be your master's mansion.
+Slow marching, thus descend I to the fiends.
+Weep, heavens!--mourn, earth! here Summer ends.
+
+    [_Here the Satyrs and wood-nymphs carry
+    him out, singing as he came in.
+
+The Song.
+
+Autumn hath all the summer's fruitful treasure;
+Gone is our sport, fled is poor Croydon's pleasure!
+Short days, sharp days, long nights come on apace:
+Ah! who shall hide us from the winter's face?
+Cold doth increase, the sickness will not cease,
+And here we lie, God knows, with little ease.
+  From winter, plague, and pestilence, good Lord, deliver us!
+
+London doth mourn, Lambeth is quite forlorn;
+Trades cry, woe worth that ever they were born!
+The want of term is town and city's harm.[144]
+Close chambers we do want to keep us warm.
+Long banished must we live from our friends:
+This low-built house will bring us to our ends.
+  From winter, plague, and pestilence, good Lord, deliver us_!
+
+WILL SUM. How is't, how is't? you that be of the graver sort, do you
+think these youths worthy of a _plaudite_ for praying for the queen, and
+singing the litany? They are poor fellows, I must needs say, and have
+bestowed great labour in sewing leaves, and grass, and straw, and moss
+upon cast suits. You may do well to warm your hands with clapping before
+you go to bed, and send them to the tavern with merry hearts.
+
+    _Enter a little_ BOY _with an Epilogue_.
+
+Here is a pretty boy comes with an Epilogue to get him audacity. I pray
+you, sit still a little and hear him say his lesson without book. It is
+a good boy: be not afraid: turn thy face to my lord. Thou and I will
+play at pouch to-morrow morning for breakfast. Come and sit on my knee,
+and I'll dance thee, if thou canst not endure to stand.
+
+
+THE EPILOGUE.
+
+Ulysses, a dwarf, and the prolocutor for the Grecians, gave me leave,
+that am a pigmy, to do an embassage to you from the cranes. Gentlemen
+(for kings are no better), certain humble animals, called our actors,
+commend them unto you; who, what offence they have committed I know not
+(except it be in purloining some hours out of Time's treasury, that
+might have been better employed) but by me (the agent of their
+imperfections) they humbly crave pardon, if haply some of their terms
+have trod awry, or their tongues stumbled unwittingly on any man's
+content. In much corn is some cockle; in a heap of coin here and there a
+piece of copper: wit hath his dregs as well as wine; words their waste,
+ink his blots, every speech his parenthesis; poetical fury, as well
+crabs as sweetings for his summer fruits. _Nemo sapit omnibus horis_.
+Their folly is deceased; their fear is yet living. Nothing can kill an
+ass but cold: cold entertainment, discouraging scoffs, authorised
+disgraces, may kill a whole litter of young asses of them here at once,
+that hath travelled thus far in impudence, only in hope to sit a-sunning
+in your smiles. The Romans dedicated a temple to the fever quartan,
+thinking it some great god, because it shook them so; and another to
+ill-fortune in Esquiliis, a mountain in Rome, that it should not plague
+them at cards and dice. Your grace's frowns are to them shaking fevers;
+your least disfavours the greatest ill-fortune that may betide them.
+They can build no temples but themselves and their best endeavours, with
+all prostrate reverence, they here dedicate and offer up wholly to your
+service. _Sis bonus, O, faelixque tuis_.[145] To make the gods merry,
+the celestial clown Vulcan tuned his polt foot to the measures of
+Apollo's lute, and danced a limping galliard in Jove's starry hall: to
+make you merry, that are gods of art and guides unto heaven, a number of
+rude Vulcans, unwieldy speakers, hammer-headed clowns (for so it
+pleaseth them in modesty to name themselves) have set their deformities
+to view, as it were in a dance here before you. Bear with their wants;
+lull melancholy asleep with their absurdities, and expect hereafter
+better fruits of their industry. Little creatures often terrify great
+beasts: the elephant flieth from a ram: the lion from a cock and from
+fire; the crocodile from all sea-fish; the whale from the noise of
+parched bones. Light toys chase great cares: the great fool _Toy_ hath
+marr'd the play. Good night, gentlemen; I go.
+
+                                    [_Let him be carried away_.[146]
+
+WILL SUM. Is't true, jackanapes? do you serve me so? As sure as this
+coat is too short for me, all the points of your hose for this are
+condemned to my pocket, if you and I e'er play at span-counter more.
+_Valete, spectatores_: pay for this sport with a _plaudite_, and the
+next time the wind blows from this corner, we will make you ten times
+as merry.
+
+_Barbarus hic ego sum, quia non intelligor ulli_.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE DOWNFALL OF ROBERT EARL OF HUNTINGTON.
+
+
+
+
+_EDITION_.
+
+
+_The Downfall of Robert Earle of Huntington, afterward called Robin Hood
+of merrie Sherwodde; with his love to chaste Matilda, the Lord
+Fitzwaters Daughter, afterwarde his faire Maide Marian. Acted by the
+Right Honourable the Earle of Notingham, Lord high Admirall of England,
+his servants. Imprinted at London for William Leake_. 1601. 4to. B.L.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+"The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington" and "The Death of Robert
+Earl of Huntington"[147] were both formerly ascribed to Thomas Heywood,
+on the always disputable authority of Kirkman the Bookseller. The
+discovery of the folio account-book of Philip Henslowe, proprietor of
+the Rose theatre on the Bank-side, enabled Malone to correct the
+error.[148] The following entries in Henslowe's MSS. contain the
+evidence upon the subject:--
+
+  "Feb. 1597-8.--The first part of Robin Hood by Anthony Mundy.
+
+  "The second part of the Downfall of Earl Huntington, sirnamed
+  Robinhood by Anthony Mundy and Henry Chettle."
+
+It is to be observed that what Henslowe mentions as "the second part of
+the Downfall of Earl Huntington" is in fact the play called on the
+printed title-page "The Death of Robert Earl of Huntington." Hence we
+find that Anthony Munday wrote the _first part_ or "Downfall" alone, and
+the _second part_ or "Death" in conjunction with Henry Chettle:
+nevertheless there is a memorandum by Henslowe, by which it seems that
+Chettle had something to do also with the _first part_. It is in these
+terms:--
+
+  "Lent unto Robarte Shawe the 18 of Novemb. 1598, to lend unto
+  Mr Cheattle upon the mending of The First Part of Robart Hoode,
+  the sum of xs."
+
+The loan here mentioned was perhaps in anticipation of "the mending;"
+and Malone subsequently met with the following notice: "For mending
+of Robin Hood for the Corte;" which might be written after the
+improvements, considered necessary before the performance of the play
+at Court, had been completed.
+
+Anthony Munday must have been born in 1553, for the monument to him in
+the Church of St Stephen, Coleman Street, states, that at the time of
+his death, 10th August 1633, he was eighty years old. From the
+inscription we likewise learn that he was "a citizen and draper." In
+1589 he lived in the city, and dates his translation of "The History of
+Palmendos" "from my house in Cripplegate." That he carried on the
+business of a draper, or had some connection with the trade as late as
+1613, may be gathered from the following passage at the close of "The
+Triumphs of Truth," the city pageant for that year, by Thomas Middleton:
+"The fire-work being made by Maister Humphrey Nichols, a man excellent
+in his art; and the whole work and body of the Triumph, with all the
+proper beauties of the workmanship, most artfully and faithfully
+performed by John Grinkin; and those _furnished with apparel_ and
+porters by Anthony Munday, Gentleman." The style of "gentleman" was
+probably given to him with reference to the productions of his pen.
+
+At what date he acquired the title of "poet to the city" does not
+appear: he wrote the Lord Mayor's Pageant in 1605; but he had certainly
+earlier been similarly employed, as Ben Jonson introduces him in that
+capacity in "The Case is Altered," which was written in the end of 1598
+or beginning of 1599.[149] He there throws some ridicule upon Don
+Antonio Balladino (as he calls Munday), and Mr Gifford was of opinion
+that Middleton meant to censure him in his "Triumphs of Truth," as the
+impudent "common writer" of city pageants; but this is hardly consistent
+with the mention Middleton introduces of Munday at the close of that
+performance. Besides, Dekker wrote the pageant for the year 1612,
+immediately preceding that for which Middleton was engaged; and that
+Munday was not in disrepute is obvious from the fact that in 1614, 1615,
+and 1616, his pen was again in request for the same purpose.
+
+Whatever might have been Munday's previous life, in the year 1582 he was
+placed in no very enviable situation. He had been mainly instrumental in
+detecting the Popish Conspiracy in that year, which drew down upon him
+the bitter animosity of the Jesuits. They charged him in their
+publications (from which extracts may be seen in Mr A. Chalmers'
+"Biographical Dictionary," and elsewhere) with having been "first a
+stage-player and afterwards an apprentice," and after being "hissed from
+the stage" and residing at Rome, with having returned to his original
+occupation. Munday himself admits, in the account he published of Edmund
+Campion and his confederates, that he was "some time the Pope's scholar
+in the Seminary of Rome," but always stoutly denied that he was a Roman
+Catholic. Perhaps the most curious tract upon this subject is that
+entitled, "A breefe and true reporte of the Execution of certaine
+Traytours at Tiborne the xxviii, and xxx dayes of May 1582. Gathered
+by A.M. who was there present." He signs the Dedication at length
+"A. Munday," and mentions that he had been a witness against some of
+the offenders. The persons he saw executed were, Thomas Foord, John
+Shert, Robert Johnson, William Filbie, Luke Kirbie, Lawrance Richardson,
+and Thomas Cottom; and he seems to have been publicly employed to
+confute them at the foot of the gallows, and to convince the populace
+that they were traitors and Papists, denying the supremacy of Queen
+Elizabeth. He there had a long dispute with Kirbie upon matters of fact,
+and, according to his own showing, was guilty while abroad, at least of
+a little duplicity. He notices having seen Captain Stukely at Rome, who
+was killed at the Battle of Alcazar in 1578. In the conclusion he
+promises his "English Romaine Lyfe" "so soon as it can be printed," in
+which he purposes to disclose the "Romish and Sathanical juglings," of
+the Jesuits.
+
+Munday was a very voluminous author in verse and prose, original and
+translated, and is certainly to be reckoned among the predecessors of
+Shakespeare in dramatic composition. His earliest work, as far as can
+be now ascertained, was "The Mirror of Mutability," 1579, when he was
+in his 26th year: he dedicates it to the Earl of Oxford, and perhaps
+then belonged to the company of players of that nobleman, to which he
+had again attached himself on his return from Italy.[150] The Council
+Registers show that this nobleman had a company of players under his
+protection in 1575. Munday's "Banquet of Dainty Conceits" was printed
+in 1588, and we particularise it, because it was unknown to Ames,
+Herbert, and Ritson. Catalogues and specimens of his other undramatic
+works may be found in "Bibliographia Poetica," "Censura Literaria,"
+"British Bibliographer,"[151] &c. The earliest praise of Munday is
+contained in Webbe's "Discourse of English Poetrie," 1586, where his
+"Sweete Sobs of Sheepheardes and Nymphes" is especially pointed out
+as "very rare poetrie." Francis Meres, in 1598 ("Palladis Tamia,"
+fo. 283, b.), enumerating many of the best dramatic poets of his day,
+including Shakespeare, Heywood, Chapman, Porter, Lodge, &c., gives
+Anthony Munday the praise of being "our best plotter," a distinction
+that excited the spleen of Ben Jonson in his "Case is Altered," more
+particularly, as he was omitted.
+
+Nearly all the existing information respecting Anthony Munday's dramatic
+works is derived from Henslowe's papers.[152] At what period he began to
+write for the stage cannot be ascertained: the earliest date in these
+MSS. connected with his name is December 1597; but as he was perhaps a
+member of the Earl of Oxford's theatrical company before he went abroad,
+and as he was certainly at Rome prior to 1578, it is likely that he was
+very early the author of theatrical performances. In the old catalogues,
+and in Langbaine's "Momus Triumphans," 1688, a piece called "Fidele and
+Fortunatus" is mentioned, and such a play was entered at Stationers'
+Hall, Nov. 12, 1584. There is little doubt that this is the same
+production, two copies of which have been discovered, with the running
+title of "Two Italian Gentlemen," that being the second title to "Fidele
+and Fortunatus" in the Register. Both copies are without title-pages;
+but to one of them is prefixed a dedication signed A.M., and we may with
+tolerable certainty conclude that Anthony Munday was the author or
+translator of it, and that it was printed about the date of its entry on
+the Stationers' Books. It is pretty evident that the play now reprinted
+from the only known edition in 1601 was written considerably before
+1597-8, the year when it is first noticed in the accounts of the
+proprietor of the Rose. The story is treated with a simplicity bordering
+upon rudeness, and historical facts are perverted just as suited the
+purpose of the writer. Whether we consider it as contemporary with, or
+preceding the productions of the same class by Shakespeare, it is a
+relic of high interest, and nearly all the sylvan portions of the play,
+in which Robin Hood and his "merry men" are engaged, are of no ordinary
+beauty. Some of the serious scenes are also extremely well written, and
+the blank-verse, interpersed with rhymes, as was usual in our earlier
+dramas, by no means inharmonious.
+
+The subsequent catalogue of plays which Munday wrote, either alone or in
+conjunction with others, is derived from the materials supplied by
+Malone.
+
+1. Mother Redcap, by Anthony Munday and Michael Drayton. December 1597.
+Not printed.[153]
+
+2. The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington, by Anthony Munday.
+February 1597-8. Printed in 1601.
+
+3. The Death of Robert Earl of Huntington, by Anthony Munday and Henry
+Chettle. February 1597-8. Printed in 1601.
+
+4. The Funeral of Richard Cordelion, by Robert Wilson, Henry Chettle,
+Anthony Munday, and Michael Drayton. May 1598. Not printed.
+
+5. Valentine and Orson, by Richard Hathwaye and Anthony Munday. July
+1598. Not printed.
+
+6. Chance Medley, by Robert Wilson, Anthony Munday, Michael Drayton, and
+Thomas Dekker. August 1598. Not printed.
+
+7. Owen Tudor, by Michael Drayton, Richard Hathwaye, Anthony Munday, and
+Robert Wilson. January 1599-1600. Not printed.
+
+8. Fair Constance of Rome, by Anthony Munday, Richard Hathwaye, Michael
+Drayton, and Thomas Dekker. June 1600. Not printed.
+
+9. Fair Constance of Rome, Part II., by the same authors. June 1600.
+Not printed.
+
+10. The Rising of Cardinal Wolsey,[154] by Anthony Munday, Michael
+Drayton, Henry Chettle, and Wentworth Smith. November 12, 1601. Not
+printed.
+
+11. Two Harpies, by Thomas Dekker, Michael Drayton, Thomas Middleton,
+John Webster, and Anthony Munday. May 1602. Not printed.
+
+12. The Widow's Charm, by Anthony Munday. July 1602. Printed in 1607, as
+Malone conjectured, under the title of "The Puritan or Widow of Watling
+Street," and ascribed to Shakespeare.
+
+13. The Set at Tennis, by Anthony Munday. December 1602. Not
+printed.[155]
+
+14. The first part of the Life of Sir John Oldcastle, by Anthony Munday,
+Michael Drayton, Robert Wilson, and Richard Hathwaye.
+
+Of the last, two editions were published in 1600, the one with, and the
+other without, the name of Shakespeare on the title-page; but Mr Malone
+discovered, from the Registers of the Stationers' Company, that he was
+not concerned in it. Whether Munday wrote any plays subsequent to the
+date to which Henslowe's papers extend, is not known.
+
+Such particulars as have come down to us regarding Henry Chettle will be
+prefixed to "The Death of the Earl of Huntington," the second part of
+the play now reprinted.
+
+
+
+
+DRAMATIS PERSONAE.[156]
+
+
+SKELTON.
+SIR JOHN ELTHAM.
+KING RICHARD THE FIRST.
+PRINCE JOHN.
+ROBERT EARL OF HUNTINGTON.
+LITTLE JOHN.
+SCARLET.
+SCATHLOCK.
+FRIAR TUCK.
+MUCH, _the Clown_.
+LEICESTER.
+RICHMOND.
+SALISBURY.
+CHESTER.
+SENTLOE.
+FITZWATER.
+LACY.
+SIR HUGH LACY.
+SIR GILBERT BROUGHTON.
+BISHOP OF ELY.
+PRIOR OF YORK.
+JUSTICE WARMAN.
+WARMAN'S COUSIN.
+RALPH.
+_Jailor of Nottingham, Sheriff, Messenger, Boy, Colliers, &c_.
+QUEEN ELINOR.
+MATILDA, _Fitzwater's Daughter_.
+WARMAN'S WIFE.
+OLD WOMAN.
+
+
+
+
+THE DOWNFALL OF ROBERT EARL OF HUNTINGTON.
+
+
+
+ACT I, SCENE 1.
+
+
+    _Enter_ SIR JOHN ELTHAM, _and knocks at_ SKELTON'S _door_.[157]
+
+SIR JOHN. How, Master Skelton; what, at study hard?
+                                 [_Opens the door_.
+
+SKEL. Welcome and wish'd-for honest Sir John Eltham.
+I have sent twice, and either time he miss'd
+That went to seek you.
+
+ELT. So full well he might:
+These two hours it pleased his majesty
+To use my service in surveying maps,
+Sent over from the good King Ferdinand,
+That to the Indies, at Sebastian's suit,
+Hath lately sent a Spanish colony.
+
+SKEL. Then 'twill trouble you,
+After your great affairs, to take the pain
+That I intended to entreat you to,
+About rehearsal of our[158] promis'd play.
+
+ELT. Nay, Master Skelton; for the King himself,
+As we were parting, bid me take great heed
+We fail not of our day: therefore, I pray,
+Send for the rest, that now we may rehearse.
+
+SKEL. O, they are ready all, and dress'd to play.
+What part play you?
+
+ELT. Why, I play Little John,
+And came on purpose with this green suit.
+
+SKEL. Holla, my masters! Little John is come.
+
+    [_At every door all the players run out, some crying
+    "Where? where?" others, "Welcome, Sir John:" among
+    others the boys and Clown_.
+
+SKEL. Faith, little Tracy, you are somewhat forward:
+What, our Maid Marian leaping like a lad?
+If you remember, Robin is your love--
+Sir Thomas Mantle yonder--not Sir John.
+
+CLOWN. But, master, Sir John is my fellow, for I am
+Much the miller's son, am I not?
+
+SKEL. I know ye are, sir;
+And, gentlemen, since you are thus prepar'd,
+Go in, and bring your dumb-scene on the stage;
+And I, as prologue, purpose to express
+The ground whereon our history is laid.
+
+    [_Exeunt. Manent_ SKELTON _and_ SIR JOHN.
+
+    _Trumpets sound. Enter first_ KING RICHARD, _with drum
+    and ancient, giving_ ELY _a purse and sceptre; his mother,
+    and brother_ JOHN, CHESTER, LEICESTER, LACY, _others at
+    the_ KING'S _appointment doing reverence. The_ KING _goes
+    in: presently_ ELY _ascends the chair_: CHESTER, JOHN, _and
+    the_ QUEEN _part displeasantly. Enter_ EGBERT EARL OF
+    HUNTINGTON, _leading_ MARIAN: _follows him_ WARMAN, _and
+    after_ WARMAN _the_ PRIOR; WARMAN _ever flattering and making
+    courtesy, taking gifts of the_ PRIOR _behind and his master
+    before_. PRINCE JOHN _Enters, offereth to take_ MARIAN. QUEEN
+    ELINOR _enters, offering to pull_ ROBIN _from her; but they
+    enfold each other, and sit down within the curtains_. WARMAN
+    _with the_ PRIOR, SIR HUGH LACY, LORD SENTLOE, _and_ SIR GILBERT
+    BROUGHTON _fold hands, and drawing the curtains, all (but the_
+    PRIOR) _enter, and are kindly received by_ ROBIN HOOD.
+    _The curtains are again shut_.
+
+SKEL. Sir John, once more, bid your dumb shows come in,
+That, as they pass, I may explain them all.
+
+    _Enter_ KING RICHARD, _&c_.[159]
+
+Richard, call'd Coeur de Lion, takes his leave,
+Like the Lord's champion, 'gainst the pagan foes,
+That spoil Juda and rich Palestine.
+The rule of England and his princely seat
+He leaves with Ely, then lord chancellor;
+To whom the Mother Queen, her son, Prince John,
+Chester, and all the peers are sworn.
+               [_Exit_ RICHARD _cum militibus_.
+    ELY _ascends the chair_.
+Now reverend Ely, like the deputy
+Of God's great deputy, ascends the throne;
+Which the Queen Mother and ambitious John
+Repining at, raised many mutinies:
+And how they ended, you anon shall hear.
+
+                        [_Exeunt omnes_.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBERT EARL OF HUNTINGTON, _leading_ MARIAN, _&c_.[160]
+
+This youth that leads yon virgin by the hand
+(As doth the sun the morning richly clad)
+Is our Earl Robert or your Robin Hood,
+That in those days was Earl of Huntington.
+The ill-faced miser, bribed in either hand,
+Is Warman, once the steward of his house,
+Who, Judas-like, betrays his liberal lord
+Into the hands of that relentless Prior,
+Call'd Gilbert Hood, uncle to Huntington.
+Those two, that seek to part these lovely friends,
+Are Elinor the queen and John the prince:
+She loves Earl Robert, he Maid Marian;
+But vainly, for their dear affect is such,
+As only death can sunder their true loves.
+Long had they lov'd, and now it is agreed,
+This day they must be troth-plight, after wed.
+At Huntington's fair house a feast is held;
+But envy turns it to a house of tears;
+For those false guests, conspiring with the Prior,
+To whom Earl Robert greatly is in debt,
+Mean at the banquet to betray the earl
+Unto a heavy writ of outlawry.
+The manner and escape you all shall see.
+
+ELT. Which all, good Skelton?
+
+SKEL. Why, all these lookers on;
+Whom if we please, the king will sure be pleas'd.
+Look to your entrance; get you in, Sir John.    [_Exit_ SIR JOHN.
+My shift is long, for I play Friar Tuck;
+Wherein, if Skelton have but any luck,
+He'll thank his hearers oft with many a duck.
+For many talk of Robin Hood, that never shot in his bow,
+But Skelton writes of Robin Hood what he doth truly know.[161]
+
+    Therefore I pray ye,
+    Contentedly stay ye,
+    And take no offending,
+    But sit to the ending,
+    Likewise I desire
+    Ye would not admire
+    My rhyme, so I shift;
+    For this is my drift,
+    So mought I well thrive
+    To make ye all blithe:
+    But if ye once frown,
+    Poor Skelton goes down;
+    His labour and cost,
+    He thinketh all lost
+    In tumbling of books
+    Of marry-go-looks.
+    The Sheriff with staves,
+    With catchpoles and knaves,
+    Are coming, I see:
+    High time 'tis for me,
+    To leave off my babble
+    And fond ribble-rabble.
+    Therefore with this court'sy
+    Awhile I will leave ye.[162]
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    _Enter, as it were in haste, the_ PRIOR OF YORK, _the_
+    SHERIFF, _Justice_ WARMAN, _Steward to_ ROBIN HOOD.
+
+PRIOR. Here, Master Warman, there's a hundred crowns
+For your good-will and futherance in this.
+
+WAR. I thank you, my Lord Prior. I must away,
+To shun suspicion; but be resolute,
+And we will take him, have no doubt of it.
+
+PRIOR. But is Lord Sentloe and the other come?
+
+WAR. Lord Sentloe, Sir Hugh Lacy, and Sir Gilbert Broughton
+Are there, and as they promis'd you last night,
+Will help to take him, when the Sheriff comes.
+                                     [_Exit_ WARMAN.
+
+PRIOR. Awhile, farewell, and thanks to them and you.
+Come, Master Sheriff, the outlawry is proclaim'd,
+Send therefore quickly for more company,
+And at the back-gate we will enter in.
+
+SHER. We shall have much ado, I am afraid.
+
+PRIOR. No, they are very merry at a feast;
+A feast where Marian, daughter to Lord Lacy,
+Is troth-plighted to wasteful Huntington;
+And at the feast are my especial friends,
+Whom he suspects not. Come, we'll have him, man,
+And for your pains here is a hundred marks.
+
+SHER. I thank your lordship: we'll be diligent.
+
+                                     [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD, LITTLE JOHN _following him;
+    the one Earl of Huntington, the other his servant_,
+    ROBIN _having his napkin on his shoulder, as if he
+    were suddenly raised from dinner_.
+
+ROB. H. As I am outlaw'd from my fame and state,
+Be this day outlawed from the name of days.
+Day luckless, outlaw luckless, both accurs'd!
+    [_Flings away his napkin and hat, and sitteth down_.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Do not forget your honourable state,
+Nor the true noblesse of your worthy house.
+
+ROB. H. Do not persuade me; vain as vanity
+Are all thy comforts: I am comfortless.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Hear me, my lord.
+
+ROB. H. What shall I hear thee say?
+Already hast thou said too much to hear:
+Already hast thou stabb'd me with thy tongue,
+And the wide wound with words will not be clos'd.
+Am I not outlaw'd by the Prior of York?
+Proclaim'd in court, in city, and in town
+A lawless person? this thy tongue reports,
+And therefore seek not to make smooth my grief;
+For the rough storm thy windy words have rais'd,
+Will not be calm'd, till I in grave be laid.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Have patience yet.
+
+ROB. H. Yea, now indeed thou speakest.
+Patience hath power to bear a greater cross
+Than honour's spoil or any earthly loss.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Do so, my lord.
+
+ROB. H. Ay, now I would begin:
+But see, another scene of grief comes in.
+
+    _Enter_ MARIAN.[163]
+
+MAR. Why is my lord so sad? wherefore so soon,
+So suddenly, arose ye from the board?
+Alas, my Robin! what distempering grief
+Drinks up the roseate colour of thy cheeks?
+Why art thou silent? answer me, my love.
+
+ROB. H. Let him, let him, let him make thee as sad.
+He hath a tongue can banish thee from joy,
+And chase thy crimson colour from thy cheeks.
+Why speak'st thou not? I pray thee, Little John,
+Let the short story of my long distress
+Be utter'd in a word. What, mean'st thou to protract?
+Wilt thou not speak? then, Marian, list to me.
+This day thou wert a maid, and now a spouse,
+Anon, poor soul, a widow thou must be!
+Thy Robin is an outlaw, Marian;
+His goods and land must be extended on,
+Himself exil'd from thee, thou kept from him
+By the long distance of unnumbered miles.
+                         [_She sinks in his arms_.
+Faint'st thou at this? speak to me, Marian:
+My old love, newly met, part not so soon;
+We have a little time to tarry yet.
+
+MAR. If but a little time, let me not stay
+Part we to-day, then will I die to-day!
+
+LIT. JOHN. For shame, my lord! with courage of a man
+Bridle this over-grieving passion,
+Or else dissemble it to comfort her.
+
+ROB. H. I like thy counsel. Marian, clear these clouds,
+And with the sunny beams of thy bright eyes
+Drink up these mists of sorrow that arise.
+
+MAR. How can I joy, when thou art banished?
+
+ROB. H. I tell thee, love, my grief is counterfeit;
+And I abruptly from the table rose,
+The banquet being almost at an end,
+Only to drive confused and sad thoughts
+[Out of][164] the minds of the invited guests.
+For, gentle love, at great or nuptial feasts,
+With comic sports or tragic stately plays
+We use to recreate the feasted guests,
+Which I am sure our kinsfolk do expect.
+
+MAR. Of this, what then? this seems of no effect.
+
+ROB. H. Why, thus of this: as Little John can tell,
+I had bespoken quaint comedians;
+But great John, John the prince, my liege's brother--
+My rival, Marian, he that cross'd our love--
+Hath cross'd me in this jest,[165] and at the court
+Employs the players should have made us sport.
+This was the tidings brought by Little John,
+That first disturbed me, and begot this thought
+Of sudden rising, which by this, I know,
+Hath with amazement troubled all our guests.
+Go in, good love: thou as the chorus shalt
+Express the meaning of my silent grief,
+Which is no more but this: I only mean
+(The more to honour our right noble friends)
+Myself in person to present some scenes
+Of tragic matter, or perchance of mirth,
+Even such as first shall jump with my conceit.
+
+MAR. May I be bold thou hast the worst expressed?
+
+LIT. JOHN. Fair mistress, all is true my lord hath said.
+
+ROB. H. It is, it is.
+
+MAR. Speak not so hollow then:
+So sigh and sadly speak true-sorrowing men.
+
+ROB. H. Believe me, love, believe me (I beseech),
+My first scene tragic is, therefore tragic speech
+And accents filling woful action,
+I strive to get. I pray thee, sweet,
+Go in, and with thy sight appease
+The many doubts that may arise. That done,
+Be thou their usher, bring them to this place,
+And thou shalt see me with a lofty verse
+Bewitch the hearers' ears, and tempt their eyes
+To gaze upon the action that I use.
+
+MAR. If it be but a play, I'll play my part:
+But sure some earnest grief affrights thy[166] heart.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Let me entreat ye, madam, not to fear,
+For, by the honesty of Little John,
+It's but a tragic scene we have in hand,
+Only to fit the humour of the queen,
+Who is the chiefest at your troth-plight feast.
+
+MAR. Then will I fetch her highness and the rest.
+                                          [_Exit_.
+
+ROB. H. Ay, that same jealous queen, whose doting age
+Envies the choice of my fair Marian,
+She hath a hand in this.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Well, what of that?
+Now must your honour leave these mourning tunes,
+And thus by my areed you shall provide.
+Your plate and jewels I will straight pack up,
+And toward Nottingham convey them hence.
+At Rowford, Sowtham, Wortley, Hothersfield,
+Of all your cattle money shall be made;
+And I at Mansfield will attend your coming,
+Where we'll determine which way's best to take.
+
+ROB. H. Well, be it so; a' God's name, let it be;
+And, if I can, Marian shall come with me.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Else care will kill her. Therefore, if you please,
+At th'utmost corner of the garden wall,
+Soon in the evening wait for Marian;
+And as I go I'll tell her of the plan.[167]
+Your horses at the Bell shall ready be,
+I mean Belsavage;[168] whence as citizens,
+That mean[169] to ride for pleasure some small way,
+You shall set forth.
+
+ROB. H. Be it as thou dost say.
+Farewell awhile:
+In spite of grief, thy love compels me smile,
+But now our audience comes, we must look sad.[170]
+
+    _Enter_ QUEEN ELINOR, MARIAN, SENTLOE, LACY, BROUGHTON,
+    WARMAN, _Robin's steward. As they meet_, LITTLE JOHN
+    _whispers with_ MARIAN, _and exit_.
+
+QU. ELIN. How now, my Lord of Huntington?
+The mistress of your love, fair Marian,
+Tells us your sudden rising from the banquet
+Was but a humour which you mean to purge
+In some high tragic lines or comic jests.
+
+ROB. H. Sit down, fair queen (the prologue's part is play'd;
+Marian hath told ye, what I bad her tell):
+Sit down, Lord Sentloe, cousin Lacy, sit:
+Sir Gilbert Broughton, yea, and Warman, sit:
+Though you my steward be, yet for your gathering wit
+I give you place: sit down, sit down, I say:
+God's pity! sit: it must, it must be so,
+For you will sit when I shall stand, I know.    [_Sits them all down_.
+And, Marian, you may sit among the rest,
+I pray ye do, or else rise, stand apart:
+These helps shall be beholders of my smart--
+You that with ruthless eyes my sorrows see,
+And came prepar'd to feast at my sad fall,
+Whose envy, greediness, and jealousy
+Afford me sorrow endless, comfort small,
+Know what you knew before, what you ordain'd
+To cross the spousal banquet of my love,
+That I am outlaw'd by the Prior of York,
+My traitorous uncle and your toothless friend.
+Smile you, Queen Elinor? laugh'st thou, Lord Sentloe?
+Lacy, look'st thou so blithe at my lament?
+Broughton, a smooth brow graceth your stern face;
+And you are merry, Warman, at my moan.
+The Queen except, I do you all defy!
+You are a sort[171] of fawning sycophants,
+That, while the sunshine of my greatness 'dur'd,
+Revelled out all my day for your delights;
+And now ye see the black night of my woe
+O'ershade the beauty of my smiling good,
+You to my grief add grief; and are agreed
+With that false Prior to reprieve my joys
+From execution of all happiness.
+
+WAR. Your honour thinks not ill of me, I hope.
+
+ROB. H. Judas speaks first, with "Master, is it I?"
+No, my false steward; your accounts are true;
+You have dishonour'd me, I worshipp'd[172] you.
+You from a paltry pen-and-inkhorn clerk,
+Bearing a buckram-satchel at your belt,
+Unto a justice' place I did prefer;
+Where you unjustly have my tenants rack'd,
+Wasted my treasure, and increas'd your store.
+Your sire contented with a cottage poor,
+Your mastership hath halls and mansions built;
+Yet are you innocent, as clear from guilt
+As is the ravenous mastiff that hath spilt
+The blood of a whole flock, yet slyly comes
+And couches in his kennel with smear'd chaps.
+Out of my house! for yet my house it is,
+And follow him, ye catchpole-bribed grooms;
+For neither are ye lords nor gentlemen,
+That will be hired to wrong a nobleman:
+For hired ye were last night, I know it, I,
+To be my guests, my faithless guests this day,
+That your kind host you trothless might betray.
+But hence, and help the Sheriff at the door,
+Your worst attempt. Fell traitors, as you be,
+Avoid, or I will execute ye all
+Ere any execution come at me!    [_They run away_.
+They run[173] away, so ends the tragedy.
+(_Aside_) Marian, by Little John, my mind you know:
+If you will, do; if not, why be it so.
+                                 [_Offers to go in_.
+
+QU. ELIN. No words to me, Earl Robert, ere you go?
+
+ROB. H. O, to your highness? yes; adieu, proud queen;
+Had not you been, thus poor I had not been.
+                                             [_Exit_.
+
+QU. ELIN. Thou wrong'st me, Robert Earl of Huntington,
+And were it not for pity of this maid,
+I would revenge the words that thou hast said.
+
+MAR. Add not, fair queen, distress unto distress,
+But, if you can, for pity make his less.
+
+QU. ELIN. I can and will forget deserving hate,
+And give him comfort in this woful state.
+Marian, I know Earl Robert's whole desire
+Is to have thee with him from hence away;
+And though I lov'd him dearly to this day,
+Yet since I see he deadlier loveth thee,
+Thou shalt have all the furtherance I may.
+Tell me, fair girl, and see thou truly tell,
+Whether this night, to-morrow, or next day,
+There be no 'pointment for to meet thy love?
+
+MAR. There is, this night there is, I will not lie;
+And, be it disappointed, I shall die.
+
+QU. ELIN. Alas, poor soul! my son, Prince John, my son,
+With several troops hath circuited the court,
+This house, the city, that thou canst not 'scape.
+
+MAR. I will away with Death, though he be grim,
+If they deny me to go hence with him.
+
+QU. ELIN. Marian,
+Thou shalt go with him clad in my attire,
+And for a shift I'll put thy garments on.
+It is not me my son John doth desire,
+But, Marian, it is thee he doteth on.
+When thou and I are come into the field,
+Or any other place, where Robin stays,
+Me in thy clothes the ambush will beset;
+Thee in my robes they dare not once approach:
+So, while with me a-reasoning they stay,
+At pleasure thou with him may'st ride away.
+
+MAR. I am beholding to your majesty,
+And of this plot will send my Robin word.
+
+QU. ELIN. Nay, never trouble him, lest it breed suspect:
+But get thee in, and shift off thy attire:
+My robe is loose, and it will soon be off.
+Go, gentle Marian, I will follow thee,
+And from betrayers' hands will set thee free.
+
+MAR. I thank your highness, but I will not trust ye:
+My Robert shall have knowledge of this shift,
+For I conceive already your deep drift.
+                                     [_Aside. Exit_.
+
+QU. ELIN. Now shall I have my will of Huntington
+Who, taking me this night for Marian,
+Will hurry me away instead of her;
+For he dares not stand trifling to confer.
+Faith, pretty Marian, I shall meet with you,[174]
+And with your lovely sweetheart Robert too:
+For when we come unto a baiting-place,
+If with like love my love he do not grace,
+Of treason capital I will accuse him,
+For trait'rous forcing me out of the court,
+And guerdon his disdain with guilty death,
+That of a prince's love so lightly weighs.
+
+                                  [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT II., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ LITTLE JOHN _fighting with the_ SHERIFF _and
+    his men_; WARMAN _persuading him_.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Warman, stand off!
+Tit-tattle, tell not me what ye can do:
+The goods, I say, are mine, and I say true.
+
+WAR. I say the Sheriff must see them, ere they go.
+
+LIT. JOHN. You say so, Warman: Little John says no.
+
+SHER. I say I must, for I am the king's shrieve.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Your must is false; your office I believe.
+
+WATCH. Down with him! down with him!
+
+LIT. JOHN. Ye bark at me like curs, but I will down
+With twenty "Stand, and who goes there?"[175] of you,
+If ye stand long tempting my patience.
+Why, Master Sheriff, think you me a fool?
+What justice is there you should search my trunks,
+Or stay my goods for that my master owes?
+
+SHER. Here's Justice Warman, steward to your lord,
+Suspects some coin, some jewels, or some plate
+That 'longs unto your lord, are in your trunks,
+And the extent is out for all his goods;
+Therefore we ought to see none be convey'd.
+
+WAR. True, Little John; I am the sorrier.
+
+LIT. JOHN. A plague upon ye else, how sore ye weep!
+Why, say, thou upstart, that there were some help,
+Some little, little help in this distress,
+To aid our lord and master comfortless,
+Is it thy part, thou screen-fac'd snotty-nose,
+To hinder him that gave thee all thou hast?
+
+    _Enter_ JUSTICE WARMAN'S [_French_] WIFE _oddly attired_.
+
+WIFE. Who's that, husband? you, you! means he you?
+
+WAR. I, by'r Lady is it, I thank him.
+
+WIFE. Ah, ye knave you! God's pity, husband, why dis no your worship
+send the kneve to Newgate?
+
+LIT. JOHN. Well, Master Sheriff, shall I pass or no?
+
+SHER. Not without search.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Then here the casket stands:
+Any that dares unto it set their hands,
+Let him begin.
+
+WIFE. Do, hisband;
+You are a majesty: I warrant
+There's old knacks, chains, and other toys.
+
+LIT. JOHN. But not for you, good madam beetle-brows.
+
+WIFE. Out upon him! By my truly, Master Justice, and ye do not clap him
+up, I will sue a bill of remorse, and never come between a pair of
+sheets with ye. Such a kneve as this! down with him, I pray.
+
+                       [_Set upon him: he knocks some down_.
+
+WIFE. Ah, good Lord! come not near, good husband; only charge him,
+charge him! Ah, good God! help, help!
+
+    _Enter_ PRINCE JOHN, _the_ BISHOP OF ELY, _the_
+    PRIOR OF YORK, _with others. All stay_.
+
+JOHN. What tumult have we here? who doth resist
+The king's writs with such obstinate contempt?
+
+WIFE. This kneve.
+
+WAR. This rebel.
+
+JOHN. How now, Little John,
+Have you no more discretion than you show?
+
+ELY. Lay hold, and clap the traitor by the heels.
+
+LIT. JOHN. I am no traitor, my good Lord of Ely
+First hear me, then commit me, if you please.
+
+JOHN. Speak, and be brief.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Here is a little box,
+Containing all my gettings twenty year,
+Which is mine own, and no man's but mine own:
+This they would rifle, this I do defend,
+And about this we only do contend.
+
+JOHN. You do the fellow wrong: his goods are his.
+You only must extend upon the Earl's.
+
+PRIOR. That was, my lord, but now is Robert Hood;
+A simple yeoman, as his servants were.
+
+WIFE. Back with that leg, my Lord Prior: there be some that were his
+servants think foul scorn to be called yeomen.
+
+PRIOR. I cry your worship mercy, Mistress Warman:
+The squire, your husband, was his servant once.
+
+LIT. JOHN. A scurvy squire, with reverence of these lords.
+
+WIFE. Does he not speak treason, pray?
+
+ELY. Sirrah, ye are too saucy: get you hence.
+
+WAR. But hear me first, my lords, with patience.
+This scoffing, careless fellow, Little John,
+Hath loaden hence a horse 'twixt him and Much,
+A silly, rude knave--Much, the miller's son.
+
+    _Enter_ MUCH, _Clown_.
+
+MUCH. I am here to answer for myself, and have taken you in two lies at
+once: first, Much is no knave, neither was it a horse Little John and I
+loaded, but a little curtal of some five handfuls high, sib to the ape's
+only beast at Paris Garden.[176]
+
+LIT. JOHN. But, Master Warman, you have loaded carts,
+And turned my lord's goods to your proper use.
+Whoever hath the right, you do the wrong,
+And are--
+
+WIFE. What is he, kneve?
+
+LIT. JOHN. Unworthy to be nam'd a man.
+
+MUCH. And I'll be sworn for his wife.
+
+WIFE. Ay, so thou mayest, Much.
+
+MUCH. That she sets new marks of all my old lady's linen (God rest her
+soul!), and my young lord never had them since.
+
+WIFE. Out, out! I took him them but for to whiten, as God mend me.
+
+ELY. Leave off this idle talk; get ye both hence.
+
+LIT. JOHN. I thank your honours: we are not in love
+With being here.
+We must seek service that are masterless.
+
+                   [_Exeunt_ MUCH _and_ LITTLE JOHN.
+
+ELY. Lord Prior of York, here's your commission.
+You are best make speed, lest in his country houses,
+By his appointment, all his herds be sold.
+
+PRIOR. I thank your honour, taking humble leave.
+                                          [_Exit_.
+
+ELY. And, Master Warman, here's your patent sealed
+For the High Sheriffwick of Nottingham;
+Except the king our master do repeal
+This gift of ours.
+
+JOHN. Let him the while possess it.
+
+ELY. A God's name, let him; he hath my good will.
+                                             [_Exit_.
+
+JOHN. Well, Warman, this proud priest I cannot brook.
+But to our other matter: send thy wife away.
+
+WAR. Go in, good wife; the prince with me hath private conference.
+
+WIFE. By my troth, ye will anger me: now ye have the pattern, ye should
+call me nothing but Mistress Sheriff; for I tell you I stand upon my
+replications.    [_Exit_.
+
+JOHN. Thinkest thou that Marian means
+To 'scape this evening hence with Robin Hood?
+The horse-boy told me so; and here he comes,
+Disguised like a citizen, methinks.
+Warman, let's in; I'll fit him presently:
+Only for Marian am I now his enemy.
+
+                               [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN, _like a citizen_.
+
+ROB. H. Earl John[177] and Warman, two good friends of mine:
+I think they knew me not, or if they did
+I care not what can follow. I am sure
+The sharpest end is death, and that will come.
+But what of death or sorrow do I dream?
+My Marian, my fair life, my beauteous love
+Is coming, to give comfort to my grief,
+And the sly queen, intending to deceive,
+Hath taught us how we should her sleights receive.[178]
+But who is this? God's pity! here's Prince John.
+
+JOHN. Good even, sir.  This clear evening should portend
+Some frost, I think: how judge you, honest friend?
+
+ROB. H. I am not weather-wise; but it may be
+We shall have hard frost; for true charity,
+Good dealing, faithful friendship, honesty,
+Are chill-cold, dead with cold.
+
+JOHN. O good sir, stay,
+That frost hath lasted many a bitter day.
+Know ye no frozen hearts that are belov'd?
+
+ROB. H. Love is a flame, a fire, that being moved,
+Still brighter grows. But say, are you beloved?
+
+JOHN. I would be, if I be not: but pass that.
+Are ye a dweller in this city, pray?
+
+ROB. H. I am; and for a gentlewoman stay,
+That rides some four or five mile in great haste.
+
+    _Enter_ QUEEN _and_ MARIAN.[179]
+
+JOHN. I see your labour, sir, is not in waste,
+For here come two; are either of these yours?
+
+ROB. H. Both are--one most.[180]
+
+JOHN. Which do you most respect?
+
+ROB. H. The youngest and the fairest I reject.
+
+JOHN. Robin, I'll try you, whether ye say true.    [_Aside_.
+
+ROB. H. As you with me, so, John, I'll jest with you.    [_Aside_.
+
+QU. ELIN. Marian, let me go first to Robin Hood,
+And I will tell him what we do intend.
+
+MAR. Do what your highness please; your will is mine.
+
+JOHN. My mother is with gentle Marian:
+O, it doth grieve her to be left behind.
+
+QU. ELIN. Shall we away, my Robin, lest the queen
+Betray our purpose? sweet, let us away:
+I have great will to go, no heart to stay.
+
+ROB. H. Away with thee? No; get thee far away
+From me, foul Marian, fair though thou be nam'd;
+For thy bewitching eyes have raised storms,
+That have my name and noblesse ever sham'd;
+Prince John, my dear friend once, is now for thee
+Become an unrelenting enemy.
+
+JOHN. But I'll relent and love thee, if thou leave her.
+
+ROB. H. And Elinor my sovereign, mother-queen,[181]
+That yet retains true passion in her breast,
+Stands mourning yonder. Hence! I thee detest.
+I will submit me to her majesty.
+Great princess, if you will but ride with me
+A little of my way, I will express
+My folly past, and humble pardon beg.
+
+MAR. I grant, Earl Robert, and I thank thee too.
+
+QU. ELIN. She's not the queen; sweet Robin, it is I.
+
+ROB. H. Hence, sorceress! thy beauty I defy.
+If thou have any love at all to me,
+Bestow it on Prince John; he loveth thee.
+
+                         [_Exeunt_ ROBIN, MARIAN.
+
+JOHN. And I will love thee, Robin, for this deed,
+And help thee, too, in thy distressful need.
+
+QU. ELIN. Wilt thou not stay nor speak, proud Huntington?
+Ay me! some whirlwind hurries them away.
+
+JOHN. Follow him not, fair love, that from thee flies,
+But fly to him that gladly follows thee.
+Wilt thou not, girl? turn'st thou away from me?
+
+QU. ELIN. Nay, we shall have it then,
+If my quaint son his mother 'gin to court.    [_Aside_.
+
+JOHN. Wilt thou not speak, fair Marian, to Prince John,
+That loves thee well?
+
+QU. ELIN. Good sir, I know you do.
+
+JOHN. That can maintain thee.
+
+QU. ELIN. Ay, I know you can,
+But hitherto I have maintained you.
+
+JOHN. My princely mother!
+
+QU. ELIN. Ay, my princely son.
+
+JOHN. Is Marian then gone hence with Huntington?
+
+QU. ELIN. Ay, she is gone; ill may they either thrive.
+
+JOHN. Mother, they [needs] must go, whom the devil drives;
+For your sharp fury and infernal rage,
+Your scorn of me, your spite to Marian,
+Your overdoating love to Huntington,
+Hath cross'd yourself, and me it hath undone.
+
+QU. ELIN. I in mine own deceit have met deceit:
+In brief the manner thus I will repeat.
+I knew with malice that the Prior of York
+Pursued Earl Robert; and I furthered it,
+Though God can tell, for love of Huntington.
+For thus I thought: when he was in extremes,
+Need and my love would win some good regard
+From him to me, if I reliev'd his want.
+To this end came I to the mock spouse-feast;
+To this end made I change for Marian's weed,
+That me for her Earl Robert should receive:
+But now I see they both of them agreed,
+In my deceit I might myself deceive.
+Come in with me, come in, and meditate
+How to turn love to never-changing hate.
+                                        [_Exit_.
+
+JOHN. In by yourself; I pass not for your spells.
+Of youth and beauty still you are the foe:
+The curse of Rosamond rests on your head,
+Fair Rose confounded by your cank'rous hate,[182]
+O, that she were not as to me she is,
+A mother, whom by nature I must love,
+Then I would tell her she were too-too base
+To dote thus on a banish'd careless groom:
+Then should I tell her that she were too fond
+To trust[183] fair Marian to an exile's hand.
+
+    _Enter a_ MESSENGER _from_ ELY.
+
+MES. My lord, my Lord of Ely sends for you
+About important business of the state.
+
+JOHN. Tell the proud prelate I am not dispos'd
+Nor in estate to come at his command.
+                      [_Smites him; he bleeds_.
+Begone with that; or tarry, and take this!
+'Zwounds! are ye list'ning for an after-errand?
+                             [_Exit_ MESSENGER.
+I'll follow with revengeful, murd'rous hate
+The banish'd, beggar'd, bankrupt Huntington.
+
+    _Enter_ SIMON, _Earl of Leicester_.
+
+LEI. How now, Prince John? body of me! I muse
+What mad moods toss ye in this busy time
+To wound the messenger that Ely sent,
+By our consents? i'faith, ye did not well.
+
+JOHN. Leicester, I meant it, Ely, not his man:
+His servant's head but bleeds, he headless shall
+From all the issues of his traitor-neck
+Pour streams of blood, till he be bloodless left.
+By earth, it shall--by heaven, it shall be so!
+Leicester, it shall, though all the world say no.
+
+LEI. It shall, it shall! but how shall it be done?
+Not with a stormy tempest of sharp words,
+But slow, still speeches and effecting deeds.
+Here comes old Lacy and his brother Hugh!
+One is our friend, and the other is not true.
+
+    _Enter_ LORD LACY, SIR HUGH, _and his Boy_.
+
+LACY. Hence, treacher, as thou art! by God's bless'd mother!
+I'll lop thy legs off, though thou be my brother,
+If with thy flattering tongue thou seek to hide
+Thy traitorous purpose. Ah, poor Huntington!
+How in one hour have villains thee undone!
+
+HUGH. If you will not believe what I have sworn,
+Conceit your worst. My Lord of Ely knows
+That what I say is true.
+
+LACY. Still facest thou?
+Draw, boy, and quickly see that thou defend thee.
+
+LEI. Patience, Lord Lacy! get you gone, Sir Hugh;
+Provoke him not, for he hath told you true:
+You know it, that I know the Prior of York,
+Together with my good lord chancellor,
+Corrupted you, Lord Sentloe, Broughton, Warman,
+To feast with Robert on his day of fall.
+
+HUGH. They lie that say it: I defy ye all.
+
+JOHN. Now, by the rood, thou liest. Warman himself,
+That creeping Judas, joy'd, and told it me.
+
+LACY. Let me, my lords, revenge me of this wretch,
+By whom my daughter and her love were lost.
+
+JOHN. For her, let me revenge: with bitter cost,
+Shall Sir Hugh Lacy and his fellows buy
+Fair Marian's loss, lost by their treachery;
+And thus I pay it.
+            [_Stabs him; he falls; Boy runs in_.
+
+LEI. Sure payment, John.
+
+LACY. There let the villain lie.
+For this old Lacy honours thee, Prince John:
+One treacherous soul is sent to answer wrong.
+
+    _Enter_ ELY, CHESTER, _Officers, Hugh Lacy's Boy_.
+
+BOY. Here, here, my lord! look, where my master lies.
+
+ELY. What murd'rous hand hath kill'd this gentle knight,
+Good Sir Hugh Lacy, steward of my lands?
+
+JOHN. Ely, he died by this princely hand.
+
+ELY. Unprincely deed! Death asketh death, you know.
+Arrest him, officers.
+
+JOHN. O sir, I will obey.
+You will take bail, I hope.
+
+CHES. 'Tis more, sir, than he may.
+
+LEI. Chester, he may by law, and therefore shall.
+
+ELY. Who are his bail?
+
+LEI. I.
+
+LACY. And I.
+
+ELY. You are confederates.
+
+JOHN. Holy Lord, you lie.
+
+CHES. Be reverend, Prince John: my Lord of Ely,
+You know, is Regent for his majesty,
+
+JOHN. But here are letters from his majesty,
+Sent out of Joppa, in the Holy Land,
+To you, to these, to me, to all the state,
+Containing a repeal of that large grant,
+And free authority to take the seal
+Into the hands of three lords temporal
+And the Lord Archbishop of Roan, he sent.
+And he shall yield it, or as Lacy lies,
+Desertfully, for pride and treason stabb'd,
+He shall ere long lie. Those, that intend as I,
+Follow this steely ensign, lift on high.
+
+    [_Lifts up his drawn sword. Exit, cum_ LEICESTER _and_ LACY.
+
+ELY. A thousand thousand ensigns of sharp steel,
+And feather'd arrows from the bow of death,
+Against proud John wrong'd Ely will employ.
+My Lord of Chester, let me have your aid,
+To lay the pride of haught,[184] usurping John.
+
+CHES. Some other course than war let us bethink:
+If it may be, let not uncivil broils
+Our civil hands defile.
+
+ELY. God knows that I
+For quiet of the realm would aught forbear:
+But give me leave, my noble lord, to fear,
+When one I dearly lov'd is murdered
+Under the colour of a little wrong
+Done to the wasteful Earl of Huntington;
+Whom John, I know, doth hate unto the death,
+Only for love he bears to Lacy's daughter.
+
+CHES. My lord, it's plain this quarrel is but pick'd
+For an inducement to a greater ill;
+But we will call the council of estate,
+At which the Mother Queen shall present be:
+Thither by summons shall Prince John be call'd,
+Leicester, and Lacy, who, it seems,
+Favour some factious purpose of the prince.
+
+ELY. You have advised well, my Lord of Chester;
+And as you counsel, so do I conclude.
+
+                                     [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD _and_ MATILDA _at one door_; LITTLE JOHN
+    _and_ MUCH _the Miller's son at another door_.
+
+MUCH. Luck, I beseech thee, marry and amen!
+Blessing betide them! (it be them indeed)
+Ah, for my good lord and my little lady![185]
+
+ROB. H. What, Much and John! well-met in this ill time.
+
+LIT. JOHN. In this good time, my lord, for, being met,
+The world shall not depart us till we die.[186]
+
+MAT. Say'st thou me so, John? as I am true maid,
+If I live long, well shall thy love be paid.
+
+MUCH. Well, there be on us, simple though we stand here, have as much
+love in them as Little John.
+
+MAT. Much, I confess thou lov'st me very much,
+And I will more reward it than with words.
+
+MUCH. Nay, I know that; but we miller's children love the cog a little,
+and the fair speaking.
+
+ROB. H. And is it possible that Warman's spite
+Should stretch so far, that he doth hunt the lives
+Of bonny Scarlet and his brother Scathlock.
+
+MUCH. O, ay, sir: Warman came but yesterday to take charge of the jail
+at Nottingham, and this day he says he will hang the two outlaws. He
+means to set them at liberty!
+
+MAT. Such liberty God send the peevish wretch,
+In his most need.
+
+ROB. H. Now, by my honour's hope,
+Yet buried in the low dust of disgrace,
+He is to blame. Say, John, where must they die?
+
+LIT. JOHN. Yonder's their mother's house, and here the tree
+Whereon, poor men, they must forego their lives:
+And yonder comes a lazy losel friar,
+That is appointed for their confessor;
+Who, when we brought your money to their mothers,
+Was wishing her to patience for their deaths.
+
+    _Enter_ FRIAR TUCK _and_ RALPH, _Warman's man_.
+
+RAL. I am timorous, sir, that the prigioners are passed from the jail.
+
+FRIAR. Soft, sirrah! by my order I protest
+Ye are too forward: 'tis no game, no jest,
+We go about.
+
+ROB. H. Matilda, walk afore
+To Widow Scarlet's house; look, where it stands.
+Much, man your lady: Little John and I
+Will come unto you thither presently.
+
+MUCH. Come, madam; my lord has 'pointed the properer man to go before ye.
+
+MAT. Be careful, Robin, in this time of fear.
+
+                     [_Exeunt_ MUCH, MATILDA.
+
+FRIAR. Now, by the relics of the holy mass,
+A pretty girl, a very bonny lass.
+
+ROB. H. Friar, how like you her?
+
+FRIAR. Marry, by my hood,
+I like her well, and wish her nought but good.
+
+RAL. Ye protract, Master Friar. I obsecrate ye with all courtesy,
+omitting compliment, you would vouch or deign to proceed.
+
+FRIAR, Deign, vouch, protract, compliment, obsecrate?
+Why, goodman Tricks, who taught you thus to prate?
+Your name, your name? Were you never christen'd?
+
+RAL. My nomination Radulph is, or Ralph: Vulgars corruptly use to call
+me Rafe.
+
+FRIAR. O foul corruption of base palliardize,[187]
+When idiots, witless, travail to be wise.
+Age barbarous, times impious, men vicious!
+
+    Able to upraise,
+    Men dead many days,
+    That wonted to praise
+    The rhymes and the lays
+    Of poets laureate:
+    Whose verse did decorate,
+    And their lines 'lustrate
+    Both prince and potentate.
+    These from their graves
+    See asses and knaves,
+    Base idiot slaves,
+    With boastings and braves
+    Offer to upfly
+    To the heavens high,
+    With vain foolery
+    And rude ribaldry.
+    Some of them write
+    Of beastly delight,
+    Suffering their lines
+    To flatter these times
+    With pandarism base,
+    And lust do uncase
+    From the placket to the pap:
+    God send them ill-hap!
+    Some like quaint pedants,
+    Good wit's true recreants,
+    Ye cannot beseech
+    From pure Priscian speech.
+    Divers as nice,
+    Like this odd vice,
+    Are word-makers daily.
+    Others in courtesy,
+    Whenever they meet ye,
+    With new fashions greet ye:
+    Changing each congee,
+    Sometime beneath knee,
+    With, "Good sir, pardon me,"
+    And much more foolery,
+    Paltry and foppery,
+    Dissembling knavery:
+    Hands sometime kissing,
+    But honesty missing.
+    God give no blessing
+    To such base counterfeiting.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Stop, Master Skelton! whither will you run?
+
+FRIAR. God's pity! Sir John Eltham, Little John,
+I had forgot myself. But to our play.
+Come, goodman Fashions, let us go our way,
+Unto this hanging business. Would, for me,
+Some rescue or reprieve might set them free.
+
+                                   [_Exeunt_ FRIAR, RALPH.
+
+ROB. H. Heard'st thou not, Little John, the friar's speech,
+Wishing for rescue or a quick reprieve?
+
+LIT. JOHN. He seems like a good fellow, my good lord.
+
+ROB. H. He's a good fellow, John, upon my word.
+Lend me thy horn, and get thee in to Much,
+And when I blow this horn, come both, and help me.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Take heed, my lord: that villain Warman knows you,
+And ten to one he hath a writ against you.
+
+ROB. H. Fear not.
+Below the bridge a poor blind man doth dwell,
+With him I will change my habit, and disguise:
+Only be ready when I call for ye;
+For I will save their lives, if it may be.
+
+LIT. JOHN. I will do what you would immediately.
+
+    _Enter_ WARMAN, SCARLET, _and_ SCATHLOCK, _bound_;
+    FRIAR TUCK _as their confessor; officers with halberts_.
+
+WAR. Master Friar, be brief; delay no time.
+Scarlet and Scathlock, never hope for life:
+Here is the place of execution,
+And you must answer law for what is done.
+
+SCAR. Well, if there be no remedy, we must:
+Though it ill-seemeth, Warman, thou should'st be
+So bloody to pursue our lives thus cruelly.
+
+SCATH. Our mother sav'd thee fro the gallows, Warman:
+His father did prefer thee to thy lord.
+One mother had we both, and both our fathers
+To thee and to thy father were kind friends.
+
+FRIAR. Good fellows, here you see his kindness ends:
+What he was once he doth not now consider.
+You must consider of your many sins:
+This day in death your happiness begins.
+
+SCAR. If you account it happiness, good Friar,
+To bear us company I you desire:
+The more the merrier; we are honest men.
+
+WAR. Ye were first outlaws, then ye proved thieves,
+And now all carelessly ye scoff at death.
+Both of your fathers were good, honest men;
+Your mother lives, their widow, in good fame;
+But you are scapethrifts, unthrifts, villains, knaves,
+And as ye lived by shifts, shall die with shame.
+
+SCATH. Warman, good words, for all your bitter deeds:
+Ill-speech to wretched men is more than needs.
+
+    _Enter_ RALPH, _running_.
+
+RAL. Sir, retire ye, for it hath thus succeeded: the carnifex or
+executor, riding on an ill-curtal, hath titubated or stumbled, and is
+now cripplified, with broken or fractured tibiards, and, sending you
+tidings of success, saith yourself must be his deputy.
+
+WAR. Ill-luck! but, sirrah, you shall serve the turn:
+The cords that bind them you shall hang them in.
+
+RAL. How are you, sir, of me opinionated? not to possess your
+seneschalship or shrievalty, not to be Earl of Nottingham, will
+Ralph be nominated by the base, scandalous vociferation of a
+hangman!
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD, _like an old man_.
+
+ROB. H. Where is the Shrieve, kind friends, I you beseech?
+With his good worship let me have some speech.
+
+FRIAR. There is the Sheriff, father: this is he.
+
+ROB. H. Friar, good alms and many blessings! thank thee.
+Sir, you are welcome to this troublous shire:
+Of this day's execution did I hear.
+Scarlet and Scathlock murder'd my young son:
+Me have they robb'd and helplessly undone.
+Revenge I would, but I am old and dry:
+Wherefore, sweet master, for saint Charity,
+Since they are bound, deliver them to me,
+That for my son's blood I reveng'd may be.
+
+SCAR. This old man lies: we ne'er did him such wrong.
+
+ROB. H. I do not lie: you wot it too-too well.
+The deed was such as you may shame to tell;
+But I with all entreats might not prevail
+With your stern, stubborn minds, bent all to blood.
+Shall I have such revenge then, Master Sheriff,
+That with my son's loss may suffice myself?
+                       [ROBIN _whispers with them_.
+
+WAR. Do, father, what thou wilt, for they must die.
+
+FRIAR. I never heard them touch'd with blood till now.
+
+WAR. Notorious villains! and they made their brags,
+The Earl of Huntington would save their lives:
+But he is down the wind, as all such shall,
+That revel, waste and spend, and take no care.
+
+ROB. H. My horn once winded, I'll unbind my belt,
+Whereat the swords and bucklers are fast-tied.
+                             [_To_ SCARLET _and_ SCATHLOCK.
+
+SCATH. Thanks to your honour. [_Aside_.] Father, we confess,
+And were our arms unbound, we would upheave
+Our sinful hands with sorrowing hearts to heaven.
+
+ROB. H. I will unbind you, with the sheriff's leave.
+
+WAR. Do: help him, Ralph: go to them, Master Friar.
+
+ROB. H. And as ye blew your horns at my son's death,
+So will I sound your knell with my best breath:
+                                 [_Sounds his horn_.
+And here's a blade, that hangeth at my belt,
+Shall make ye feel in death what my son felt.
+
+    _Enter_ LITTLE JOHN _and_ MUCH.[188] _Fight: the_ FRIAR,
+    _making as if he helped the_ SHERIFF, _knocks down his men,
+    crying, Keep the king's peace_!
+
+RAL. O, they must be hanged, father.
+
+ROB. H. Thy master and thyself supply their rooms.
+Warman, approach me not! tempt not my wrath,
+For if thou do, thou diest remediless.
+
+WAR. It is the outlaw'd Earl of Huntington!
+Down with him, Friar! O, thou dost mistake![189]
+Fly, Ralph, we die else! let us raise the shire.
+
+               [SHERIFF _runs away, and his men_.
+
+FRIAR. Farewell. Earl Robert, as I am true friar,
+I had rather be thy clerk than serve the Prior.
+
+ROB. H. A jolly fellow. Scarlet, know'st thou him?
+
+SCAR. He is of York, and of St Mary's cloister,
+There where your greedy uncle is Lord Prior.
+
+MUCH. O, murrain on ye! have you two 'scap'd hanging?[190]
+Hark ye, my lord: these two fellows kept at Barnsdale
+Seven year to my knowledge, and no man[191]--
+
+ROB. H. Here is no biding, masters: get ye in,
+Take a short blessing at your mother's hands.
+Much, bear them company; make Matilda merry:
+John and myself will follow presently.
+John, on a sudden thus I am resolv'd--
+To keep in Sherwood till the king's return,
+And being outlaw'd, lead an outlaw's life.
+(Seven years these brethren, being yeomen's sons,
+Lived and 'scap'd the malice of their foes.)[192]
+How think'st thou, Little John, of my intent?
+
+LIT. JOHN. I like your honour's purpose exceeding well.
+
+ROB. H. Nay, no more honour, I pray thee, Little John;
+Henceforth I will be called Robin Hood.
+Matilda shall be my maid Marian.
+Come, John, friends all, for now begins the game;
+And after our deserts so grow our fame!
+
+                                        [_Exeunt.
+
+
+
+
+ACT III., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ PRINCE JOHN, _and his Lords, with Soldiers_.
+
+JOHN. Now is this comet shot into the sea,
+Or lies like slime upon the sullen earth.
+Come, he is dead, else should we hear of him.
+
+SAL. I know not what to think herein, my lord.
+
+FITZ. Ely is not the man I took him for:
+I am afraid we shall have worse than he.
+
+JOHN. Why, good Fitzwater, whence doth spring your fear.
+
+FITZ. Him for his pride we justly have suppress'd;
+But prouder climbers are about to rise.
+
+SAL. Name them, Fitzwater: know you any such?
+
+JOHN. Fitzwater means not anything, I know;
+For if he did, his tongue would tell his heart.
+
+FITZ. An argument of my free heart, my lord.
+That lets the world be witness of my thought.
+When I was taught, true dealing kept the school;
+Deeds were sworn partners with protesting words;
+We said and did; these say and never mean.
+This upstart protestation of no proof--
+This, "I beseech you, sir, accept my love;
+Command me, use me; O, you are to blame,
+That do neglect, my everlasting zeal,
+My dear, my kind affect;" when (God can tell)
+A sudden puff of wind, a lightning flash,
+A bubble on the stream doth longer 'dure,
+Than doth the purpose of their promise bide.
+A shame upon this peevish, apish age,
+These crouching, hypocrite, dissembling times!
+Well, well, God rid the patrons of these crimes
+Out of this land: I have an inward fear,
+This ill, well-seeming sin will be bought dear.
+
+SAL. My Lord Fitzwater is inspired, I think.
+
+JOHN. Ay, with some devil: let the old fool dote.
+
+    _Enter_ QUEEN MOTHER, CHESTER, SHERIFF _of Kent, Soldiers_.
+
+QU. MO. From the pursuing of the hateful priest
+And bootless search of Ely are we come.
+
+JOHN. And welcome is your sacred majesty;
+And, Chester, welcome too against your will.
+
+CHES. Unwilling men come not without constraint;
+But uncompell'd comes Chester to this place,
+Telling thee, John, that thou art much to blame,
+To chase hence Ely, chancellor to the king;
+To set thy footsteps on the cloth of state,
+And seat thy body in thy brother's throne.
+
+SAL. Who should succeed the brother but the brother?
+
+CHES. If one were dead, one should succeed the other.
+
+QU. MO. My son is king, my son then ought to reign.
+
+FITZ. One son is king; the state allows not twain.
+
+SAL. The subjects many years the king have miss'd.
+
+CHES. But subjects must not choose what king they list.
+
+QU. MO. Richard hath conquer'd kingdoms in the east.
+
+FITZ. A sign he will not lose this in the west.
+
+SAL. By Salisbury's honour, I will follow John.
+
+CHES. So Chester will, to shun commotion.
+
+QU. MO. Why, John shall be but Richard's deputy.
+
+FITZ. To that Fitzwater gladly doth agree.
+And look to't, lady, mind King Richard's love;
+As you will answer't, do the king no wrong.
+
+QU. MO. Well-said, old Conscience, you keep still one song.
+
+JOHN. In your contentious humours, noble lords,
+Peers and upholders of the English state,
+John silent stood, as one that did await
+What sentence ye determin'd for my life:
+But since you are agreed that I shall bear
+The weighty burthen of this kingdom's state,
+Till the return of Richard our dread king,
+I do accept the charge, and thank ye all,
+That think me worthy of so great a place.
+
+ALL. We all confirm you Richard's deputy.
+
+SAL. Now shall I plague proud Chester.
+
+QU. MO. Sit you sure, Fitzwater.
+
+CHES. For peace I yield to wrong.
+
+JOHN. Now, old man, for your daughter.
+
+FITZ. To see wrong rule, my eyes run streams of water.
+
+                                    [_A noise within_.
+
+    _Enter_ COLLIERS, _crying, A monster_!
+
+COL. A monster! a monster! bring her out, Robin: a monster! a monster!
+
+SAL. Peace, gaping fellow! know'st thou where thou art?
+
+1ST COL. Why, I am in Kent, within a mile of Dover.
+'Sblood, where I am! peace, and a gaping fellow!
+For all your dagger, wert not for your ging,[193]
+I would knock my whipstock on your addle-head.
+Come, out with the monster, Robin.
+
+WITHIN. I come, I come. Help me, she scratches!
+
+1ST COL. I'll gee her the lash. Come out, ye bearded witch.
+
+    [_Bring forth_ ELY, _with a yard in his hand and
+    linen cloth, dressed like a woman_.
+
+ELY. Good fellows, let me go! there's gold to drink,
+I am a man, though in woman's weeds.
+Yonder's Prince John: I pray ye, let me go.
+
+QU. MO. What rude companions have we yonder, Salisbury?
+
+1ST COL. Shall we take his money?
+
+2D COL. No, no; this is the thief that robbed Master Michaels, and came
+in like a woman in labour, I warrant ye.
+
+SAL. Who have ye here, honest colliers?
+
+2D COL. A monster, a monster! a woman with a beard, a man in a petticoat.
+A monster, a monster!
+
+SAL. What, my good Lord of Ely, is it you?--Ely is taken, here's the
+chancellor!
+
+1ST COL. Pray God we be not hanged for this trick.
+
+QU. MO. What, my good lord!
+
+ELY. Ay, ay, ambitious lady.
+
+JOHN. Who? My lord chancellor?
+
+ELY. Ay, you proud usurper.
+
+SAL. What, is your surplice turned to a smock?
+
+ELY. Peace, Salisbury, thou changing weather-cock.
+
+CHES. Alas, my lord! I grieve to see this sight.
+
+ELY. Chester, it will be day for this dark night.
+
+FITZ. Ely, thou wert the foe to Huntington:
+Robin, thou knew'st, was my adopted son.
+O Ely, thou to him wert too-too cruel!
+With him fled hence Matilda, my fair jewel.
+For their wrong, Ely, and thy haughty pride,
+I help'd Earl John; but now I see thee low,
+At thy distress my heart is full of woe.
+
+QU. MO. Needs must I see Fitzwater's overthrow.
+John, I affect him not, he loves not thee:
+Remove him, John, lest thou removed be.
+
+JOHN. Mother, let me alone; by one and one
+I will not leave one that envies our good.
+My Lord of Salisbury, give these honest colliers
+For taking Ely each a hundred marks.
+
+SAL. Come, fellows; go with me.
+
+COL. Thank ye, [i'] faith. Farewell, monster.
+
+          [_Exeunt_ SALISBURY, _with_ COLLIERS.
+
+JOHN. Sheriff of Kent, take Ely to your charge.
+From shrieve to shrieve send him to Nottingham,
+Where Warman, by our patent, is high shrieve.
+There, as a traitor, let him be close-kept.
+And to his trial we will follow straight.
+
+ELY. A traitor, John?
+
+JOHN. Do not expostulate:
+You at your trial shall have time to prate.
+
+                           [_Exeunt cum_ ELY.
+
+FITZ. God, for thy pity, what a time is here!
+
+JOHN. Right gracious mother, would yourself and Chester
+Would but withdraw you for a little space,
+While I confer with my good Lord Fitzwater?
+
+QUEEN. My Lord of Chester, will you walk aside?
+
+CHES. Whither your highness please, thither I will.
+
+                        [_Exeunt_ CHESTER _and_ QUEEN.
+
+JOHN. Soldiers, attend the person of our mother.
+                                   [_Exeunt_ SOLDIERS.
+Noble Fitzwater, now we are alone,
+What oft I have desir'd I will entreat,
+Touching Matilda, fled with Huntington.
+
+FITZ. Of her what would you touch? Touching her flight,
+She is fled hence with Robert, her true knight.
+
+JOHN. Robert is outlaw'd, and Matilda free;
+Why through his fault should she exiled be?
+She is your comfort, your old[194] age's bliss;
+Why should your age so great a comfort miss?
+She is all England's beauty, all her pride;
+In foreign lands why should that beauty bide?
+Call her again, Fitzwater, call again
+Guiltless Matilda, beauty's sovereign.
+
+FITZ. I grant, Prince John, Matilda was my joy,
+And the fair sun that kept old Winter's frost
+From griping dead the marrow of my bones;
+And she is gone; yet where she is, God wot:
+Aged Fitzwater truly guesseth not.
+But where she is, there is kind Huntington;
+With my fair daughter is my noble son.
+If he may never be recall'd again,
+To call Matilda back it is in vain.
+
+JOHN. Living with him, she lives in vicious state,
+For Huntington is excommunicate;
+And till his debts be paid, by Rome's decree
+It is agreed absolv'd he cannot be;
+And that can never be: so ne'er a[195] wife,
+But a loathed[196] adulterous beggar's life,
+Must fair Matilda live. This you may amend,
+And win Prince John your ever-during friend.
+
+FITZ. As how? as how?
+
+JOHN. Call her from him: bring her to England's court,
+Where, like fair Phoebe, she may sit as queen
+Over the sacred, honourable maids
+That do attend the royal queen, my mother.
+There shall she live a prince's Cynthia,
+And John will be her true Endymion.
+
+FITZ. By this construction she should be the moon,
+And you would be the man within the moon!
+
+JOHN. A pleasant exposition, good Fitzwater:
+But if it so fell out that I fell in,
+You of my full joys should be chief partaker.
+
+FITZ. John, I defy thee! by my honour's hope,
+I will not bear this base indignity!
+Take to thy tools! think'st thou a nobleman
+Will be a pander to his proper[197] child?
+For what intend'st thou else, seeing I know
+Earl Chepstow's daughter is thy married wife.
+Come, if thou be a right Plantaganet,
+Draw and defend thee. O our Lady, help
+True English lords from such a tyrant lord!
+What, dost thou think I jest? Nay, by the rood,
+I'll lose my life, or purge thy lustful blood.
+
+JOHN. What, my old ruffian, lie at your ward?[198]
+Have at your froward bosom, old Fitzwater.
+
+                          [_Fight_: JOHN _falls_.
+
+    _Enter_ QUEEN, CHESTER, SALISBURY, _hastily_.
+
+FITZ. O, that thou wert not royal Richard's brother,
+Thou shouldst here die in presence of thy mother.
+    [JOHN _rises: all compass_ FITZWATER; FITZWATER _chafes_.
+What, is he up? Nay, lords, then give us leave.
+
+CHES. What means this rage, Fitzwater?
+
+QUEEN. Lay hands upon the Bedlam, trait'rous wretch!
+
+JOHN. Nay, hale him hence! and hear you, old Fitzwater:
+See that you stay not five days in the realm.
+For if you do, you die remediless.
+
+FITZ. Speak, lords: do you confirm what he hath said?
+
+ALL. He is our prince, and he must be obey'd.
+
+FITZ. Hearken, Earl John! but one word will I say.
+
+JOHN. I will not hear thee; neither will I stay.
+Thou know'st thy time.
+                     [_Exit_ JOHN.
+
+FITZ. Will not your highness hear?
+
+QUEEN. No: thy Matilda robb'd me of my dear.
+                              [_Exit_ QUEEN.
+
+FITZ. I aided thee in battle, Salisbury.
+
+SAL. Prince John is mov'd; I dare not stay with thee.
+                              [_Exit_ SALISBURY.[199]
+
+FITZ. 'Gainst thee and Ely, Chester, was I foe,
+And dost thou stay to aggravate my woe?
+
+CHES. No, good Fitzwater; Chester doth lament
+Thy wrong, thy sudden banishment.
+Whence grew the quarrel 'twixt the prince and thee?
+
+FITZ. Chester, the devil tempted old Fitzwater
+To be a pander to his only daughter;
+And my great heart, impatient, forc'd my hand,
+In my true honour's right to challenge him.
+Alas the while! wrong will not be reprov'd.
+
+CHES. Farewell, Fitzwater: wheresoe'er thou be,
+By letters, I beseech thee, send to me.
+                               [_Exit_ CHESTER.
+
+FITZ. Chester, I will, I will.
+Heavens turn to good this woe, this wrong, this ill.
+
+                                            [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    _Enter_ SCATHLOCK _and_ SCARLET, _winding their horns,
+    at several doors. To them enter_ ROBIN HOOD, MATILDA,
+    _all in green_, SCATHLOCK'S MOTHER, MUCH, LITTLE JOHN:
+    _all the men with bows and arrows_.
+
+ROB. H. Widow, I wish thee homeward now to wend,
+Lest Warman's malice work thee any wrong.
+
+WID. Master, I will; and mickle good attend
+On thee, thy love, and all these yeomen strong.
+
+MAT. Forget not, widow, what you promis'd me.
+
+MUCH. O, ay, mistress; for God's sake let's have Jenny.
+
+WID. You shall have Jenny sent you with all speed.
+Sons, farewell, and, by your mother's reed,
+Love well your master: blessing ever fall
+On him, your mistress, and these yeomen tall.
+                                       [_Exit_.
+
+MUCH. God be with you, mother: have much mind, I pray, on Much your son,
+and your daughter Jenny.
+
+ROB. H. Wind once more, jolly huntsmen, all your horns;
+Whose shrill sound, with the echoing wood's assist,
+Shall ring a sad knell for the fearful deer,
+Before our feathered shafts, death's winged darts,
+Bring sudden summons for their fatal ends.
+
+SCAR. It's full seven years since we were outlaw'd first,
+And wealthy Sherwood was our heritage:
+For all those years we reigned uncontroll'd,
+From Barnsdale shrogs to Nottingham's red cliffs;
+At Blithe and Tickhill were we welcome guests.
+Good George-a-Greene at Bradford was our friend,
+And wanton Wakefield's Pinner[200] lov'd us well.
+At Barnsley dwells a potter tough and strong,
+That never brook'd we brethren should have wrong.
+The nuns of Farnsfield (pretty nuns they be)
+Gave napkins, shirts, and bands to him and me.
+Bateman of Kendal gave us Kendal green,
+And Sharpe of Leeds sharp arrows for us made:
+At Rotheram dwelt our bowyer, God him bless;
+Jackson he hight, his bows did never miss.
+This for our good--our scathe let Scathlock tell,
+In merry Mansfield how it once befell.
+
+SCATH. In merry Mansfield, on a wrestling day,
+Prizes there were, and yeomen came to play;
+My brother Scarlet and myself were twain.
+Many resisted, but it was in vain,
+For of them all we won the mastery,
+And the gilt wreaths were given to him and me.
+There by Sir Doncaster of Hothersfield
+We were bewray'd, beset, and forc'd to yield,
+And so borne bound from thence to Nottingham,
+Where we lay doom'd to death till Warman came.
+
+ROB. H. Of that enough. What cheer, my dearest love?
+
+MUCH. O, good cheer anon, sir; she shall have venison her bellyful.
+
+MAT. Matilda is as joyful of thy good
+As joy can make her: how fares Robin Hood?
+
+ROB. H. Well, my Matilda, and if thou agree,
+Nothing but mirth shall wait on thee and me.
+
+MAT. O God, how full of perfect mirth were I
+To see thy grief turn'd to true jollity!
+
+ROB. H. Give me thy hand; now God's curse on me light,
+If I forsake not grief, in griefs despite.
+Much, make a cry, and, yeomen, stand ye round:
+I charge ye never more let woful sound
+Be heard among ye; but whatever fall,
+Laugh grief to scorn, and so make sorrow small,
+Much, make a cry, and loudly: Little John.
+
+MUCH. O God, O God! help, help, help! I am undone, I am undone!
+
+LIT. JOHN. Why, how now, Much? Peace, peace, you roaring slave.
+
+MUCH. My master bad me cry, and I will cry till he bid me leave.
+Help, help, help! Ay, marry will I.
+
+ROB. H. Peace, Much. Read on the articles, good John.
+
+LIT. JOHN. First, no man must presume to call our master
+By name of Earl, Lord, Baron, Knight, or Squire;
+But simply by the name of Robin Hood.
+
+ROB. H. Say, yeomen, to this order will ye yield?
+
+ALL. We yield to serve our master, Robin Hood.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Next, 'tis agreed, if thereto she agree,
+That fair Matilda henceforth change her name,
+And while it is the chance of Robin Hood
+To live in Sherwood a poor outlaw's life,
+She by Maid Marian's name be only call'd.
+
+MAT. I am contented; read on, Little John:
+Henceforth let me be nam'd Maid Marian.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Thirdly, no yeoman, following Robin Hood
+In Sherwood, shall [ab]use widow, wife, or maid;
+But by true labour lustful thoughts expel.
+
+ROB. H. How like ye this?
+
+ALL. Master, we like it well.
+
+MUCH. But I cry no to it. What shall I do with Jenny then?
+
+SCAR. Peace, Much: go forward with the orders, fellow John.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Fourthly, no passenger with whom ye meet
+Shall ye let pass, till he with Robin feast;
+Except a post, a carrier, or such folk
+As use with food to serve the market towns.
+
+ALL. An order which we gladly will observe.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Fifthly, you never shall the poor man wrong,
+Nor spare a priest, a usurer, or a clerk.
+
+MUCH. Nor a fair wench, meet we her in the dark!
+
+LIT. JOHN. Lastly, you shall defend with all your power
+Maids, widows, orphans, and distressed men.
+
+ALL. All these we vow to keep as we are men.
+
+ROB. H. Then wend ye to the greenwood merrily,
+And let the light roes bootless from ye run.
+Marian and I, as sovereigns of your toils,
+Will wait within our bower your bent bows' spoils.
+
+MUCH. I will among them, master.
+
+                    [_Exeunt winding their horns_.
+
+ROB. H. Marian, thou seest, though courtly pleasures want,
+Yet country sport in Sherwood is not scant:
+For the soul-ravishing, delicious sound
+Of instrumental music we have found
+The winged quiristers with divers notes
+Sent from their quaint recording[201] pretty throats,
+On every branch that compasseth our bow'r,
+Without command contenting us each hour.
+For arras hangings and rich tapestry
+We have sweet nature's best embroidery.
+For thy steel glass, wherein thou wont'st to look,
+Thy crystal eyes gaze in a crystal brook.
+At court a flower or two did deck thy head,
+Now with whole garlands is it circled.
+For what in wealth we want, we have in flowers,
+And what we lose in halls, we find in bowers.
+
+MAR. Marian hath all, sweet Robert, having thee,
+And guesses thee as rich in having me.
+
+ROB. H. I am indeed;
+For, having thee, what comfort can I need?
+
+MAR. Go in, go in.
+To part such true love, Robin, it were sin.
+
+                                   [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Enter_ PRIOR, SIR DONCASTER, FRIAR TUCK.
+
+PRIOR. To take his body, by the blessed rood,
+'Twould do me more than any other good.
+
+DON. O, 'tis an unthrift, still the churchmen's foe;
+An ill-end will betide him, that I know.
+'Twas he that urged the king to 'sess the clergy,
+When to the holy land he took his journey;
+And he it is that rescued those two thieves,
+Scarlet and Scathlock, that so many griefs
+To churchmen did: and now, they say,
+He keeps in Sherwood, and himself doth play
+The lawless reaver:[202] hear you, my Lord Prior,
+He must be taken, or it will be wrong.
+
+TUCK. Ay, ay, soon said;
+But ere he be, many will lie dead,
+Except it be by sleight.
+
+DON. Ay, there, there, Friar.
+
+TUCK. Give me, my lord, your execution.
+The widow Scarlet's daughter, lovely Jenny,
+Loves, and is belov'd of Much, the miller's son.
+If I can get the girl to go with me,
+Disguis'd in habit like a pedlar's mort,[203]
+I'll serve this execution, on my life,
+And single out a time alone to take
+Robin, that often careless walks alone.
+Why, answer not; remember what I said:
+Yonder, I see, comes Jenny, that fair maid.
+If we agree, then back me soon with aid.
+
+    _Enter_ JENNY _with a fardel_.
+
+PRIOR. Tuck, if thou do it--
+
+DON. Pray, you do not talk:
+As we were strangers let us careless walk.
+
+JEN. Now to the green wood wend I, God me speed.
+
+TUCK. Amen, fair maid, and send thee, in thy need,
+Much, that is born to do thee much good deed.
+
+JEN. Are you there, Friar? nay then, i'faith, we have it.
+
+TUCK. What, wench? my love?
+
+JEN. Ay, gi't me when I crave it.
+
+TUCK. Unask'd I offer; prythee, sweet girl, take it.
+
+JEN. Gifts stink with proffer: foh! Friar, I forsake it.
+
+TUCK. I will be kind.
+
+JEN. Will not your kindness kill her?
+
+TUCK. With love?
+
+JEN. You cog.
+
+TUCK. Tut, girl, I am no miller:
+Hear in your ear.
+
+DON. The Friar courts her.    [_Standing behind_.
+
+PRIOR. Tush, let them alone;
+He is our Lady's Chaplain, but serves Joan.
+
+DON. Then, from the Friar's fault, perchance, it may be
+The proverb grew, Joan's taken for my lady.
+
+PRIOR. Peace, good Sir Doncaster, list to the end.
+
+JEN. But mean ye faith and troth? shall I go wi' ye?
+
+TUCK. Upon my faith, I do intend good faith.
+
+JEN. And shall I have the pins and laces too,
+If I bear a pedlar's pack with you?
+
+TUCK. As I am holy Friar, Jenny, thou shalt.
+
+JEN. Well, there's my hand; see, Friar, you do not halt.
+
+TUCK. Go but before into the miry mead,
+And keep the path that doth to Farnsfield lead;
+I'll into Southwell and buy all the knacks,
+That shall fit both of us for pedlar's packs.
+
+JEN. Who be they two that yonder walk, I pray?
+
+TUCK. Jenny, I know not: be they what they may,
+Scare not for them; prythee, do not stay,
+But make some speed, that we were gone away.
+
+JEN. Well, Friar, I trust you that we go to Sherwood.
+
+TUCK. Ay, by my beads, and unto Robin Hood.
+
+JEN. Make speed, good Friar.
+
+TUCK. Jenny, do not fear.    [_Exit_ JENNY.
+Lord Prior, now you hear,
+As much as I. Get me two pedlar's packs,
+Points, laces, looking-glasses, pins and knacks;
+And let Sir Doncaster with some wight lads
+Follow us close; and, ere these forty hours,
+Upon my life Earl Robert shall be ours.
+
+PRIOR. Thou shalt have anything, my dearest Friar;
+And in amends I'll make thee my sub-prior.
+Come, good Sir Doncaster, and if we thrive,
+We'll frolic with the nuns of Leeds, belive.[204]
+
+                                        [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Enter_ FITZWATER, _like an old man_.
+
+FITZ. Well did he write, and mickle did he know,
+That said this world's felicity was woe,
+Which greater states can hardly undergo.
+Whilom Fitzwater, in fair England's court,
+Possess'd felicity and happy state,
+And in his hall blithe fortune kept her sport,
+Which glee one hour of woe did ruinate.
+Fitzwater once had castles, towns, and towers,
+Fair gardens, orchards, and delightful bowers;
+But now nor garden, orchard, town, nor tower,
+Hath poor Fitzwater left within his power.
+Only wide walks are left me in the world,
+Which these stiff limbs will hardly let me tread;
+And when I sleep, heaven's glorious canopy
+Me and my mossy couch doth overspread.
+Of this injurious John cannot bereave me;
+The air and earth he (while I live) must leave me;
+But from the English air and earth, poor man,
+His tyranny hath ruthless thee exiled.
+Yet e'er I leave it, I'll do what I can
+To see Matilda, my fair luckless child.
+
+    [_Curtains open_:--ROBIN HOOD _sleeps on a green bank,
+    and_ MARIAN _strewing flowers on him_.
+
+And in good time, see where my comfort stands,
+And by her lies dejected Huntington.
+Look how my flow'r holds flowers in her hands,
+And flings those sweets upon my sleeping son.
+I'll close mine eyes as if I wanted sight,
+That I may see the end of their delight.
+               [_Goes knocking with his staff_.
+
+MAR. What aged man art thou? or by what chance
+Cam'st thou thus far into the wayless wood?
+
+FITZ. Widow or wife, or maiden if thou be,
+Lend me thy hand; thou seest I cannot see:
+Blessing betide thee, little feel'st thou want;
+With me, good child, food is both hard and scant.
+These smooth even veins assure me he is kind,
+Whate'er he be, my girl, that thee doth find.
+I, poor and old, am reft of all earth's good,
+And desperately am crept into this wood
+To seek the poor man's patron, Robin Hood.
+
+MAR. And thou art welcome: welcome, aged man,
+Ay, ten times welcome to Maid Marian.
+Sit down, old father, sit, and call me daughter.
+O God, how like he looks to old Fitzwater!
+                                     [_Runs in_.
+
+FITZ. Is my Matilda call'd Maid Marian?
+I wonder why her name is changed thus.
+
+                         [MARIAN _brings wine, meat_.
+
+MAR. Here's wine to cheer thy heart; drink, aged man:
+There's ven'son and a knife, here's manchet[205] fine:
+Drink, good old man, I pray you, drink more wine.
+My Robin stirs; I must sing him asleep.
+
+ROB. H. Nay, you have wak'd me, Marian, with your talk.
+What man is that's come within our walk?
+
+MAR. An aged man, a silly, sightless man,
+Near pin'd with hunger: see, how fast he eats.
+
+ROB. H. Much good may't do him: never is good meat
+Ill-spent on such a stomach. Father, proface;[206]
+To Robin Hood thou art a welcome man.
+
+FITZ. I thank you, master. Are you Robin Hood?
+
+ROB. H. Father, I am.
+
+FITZ. God give your soul much good
+For this good meat Maid Marian hath given me.
+But hear me, master; can you tell me news,
+Where fair Matilda is, Fitzwater's daughter?
+
+ROB. H. Why, here she is; this Marian is she.
+
+FITZ. Why did she change her name?
+
+ROB. H. What's that to thee?
+
+FITZ. Yes, I could weep for grief that it is so,
+But that my tears are all dried up with woe.
+
+ROB. H. Why, she is called Maid Marian, honest friend,
+Because she lives a spotless maiden life;
+And shall, till Robin's outlaw life have end,
+That he may lawfully take her to wife;
+Which, if King Richard come, will not be long,
+For in his hand is power to right our wrong.
+
+FITZ. If it be thus, I joy in her name's change:
+So pure love in these times is very strange.
+
+MAR. Robin, I think it is my aged father.    [_Aside_.
+
+ROB. H. Tell me, old man, tell me in courtesy,
+Are you no other than you seem to be?
+
+FITZ. I am a wretched aged man, you see,
+If you will do me aught for charity:
+Further than this, sweet, do not question me.
+
+ROB. H. You shall have your desire. But what be these?
+
+    _Enter_ FRIAR TUCK _and_ JENNY_, like pedlars, singing.
+
+        What lack ye? what lack ye?
+        What is it you will buy?
+        Any points, pins or laces,
+        Any laces, points or pins?
+        Fine gloves, fine glasses,
+        Any busks or masks?
+        Or any other pretty things?
+        Come, cheap for love, or buy for money.
+        Any coney, coney-skins?
+        For laces, points or pins?
+        Fair maids, come choose or buy.
+        I have pretty poking-sticks,[207]
+        And many other tricks,
+        Come, choose for love, or buy for money_.
+
+ROB. H. Pedlar, I prythee set thy pack down here:
+Marian shall buy, if thou be not too dear.
+
+TUCK. Jenny, unto thy mistress show thy pack.
+Master, for you I have a pretty knack,
+From far I brought, please you see to the same.
+
+        [_Exeunt_ ROBIN HOOD, MARIAN, _and_ FITZWATER.
+
+    _Enter_ SIR DONCASTER _and others, weaponed_.[208]
+
+FRIAR. Sir Doncaster, are not we pedlar-like?
+
+DON. Yes, passing fit; and yonder is the bower.
+I doubt not we shall have him in our power.
+
+FRIAR. You and your company were best stand close.
+
+DON. What shall the watchword be to bring us forth?
+
+FRIAR. Take it, I pray, though it be much more worth:
+When I speak that aloud, be sure I serve
+The execution presently on him.
+
+DON. Friar, look to't.
+
+FRIAR. Now, Jenny, to your song.    [_Sings_.
+
+    _Enter_ MARIAN, ROBIN.
+
+MAR. Pedlar, what pretty toys have you to sell?
+
+FRIAR. Jenny, unto your mistress show your ware.
+
+MAR. Come in, good woman.    [_Exeunt_.
+
+FRIAR. Master, look here,
+       And God give ear,
+       So mote I the[209],
+       To her and me,
+       If ever we,
+       Robin, to thee,
+       That art so free.
+       Mean treachery.
+
+ROB. H. On, pedlar, to thy pack;
+If thou love me, my love thou shalt not lack.
+
+FRIAR. Master, in brief,
+       There is a thief,
+       That seeks your grief.
+       God send relief
+       To you in need.
+       For a foul deed,
+       If not with speed
+       You take good heed,
+       There is decreed.
+       In yonder brake
+       There lies a snake,
+       That means to take
+       Out of this wood
+       The yeoman good,
+       Call'd Robin Hood.
+
+ROB. H. Pedlar, I prythee be more plain.
+What brake? what snake? what trap? what train?
+
+FRIAR. Robin, I am a holy friar,
+       Sent by the Prior,
+       Who did me hire,
+       For to conspire
+       Thy endless woe
+       And overthrow:
+       But thou shalt know,
+       I am the man
+       Whom Little John
+       From Nottingham
+       Desir'd to be
+       A clerk to thee;
+       For he to me
+       Said thou wert free,
+       And I did see
+       Thy honesty,
+       From gallow-tree
+       When thou didst free
+       Scathlock and Scarlet certainly[210].
+
+ROB. H. Why, then, it seems that thou art Friar Tuck.
+
+FRIAR. Master, I am.
+
+ROB. H. I pray thee, Friar, say,
+What treachery is meant to me this day?
+
+FRIAR. First wind your horn; then draw your sword.
+                      [_ROBIN HOOD winds his horn_.
+For I have given a friar's word,
+To take your body prisoner,
+And yield you to Sir Doncaster,
+The envious priest of Hothersfield,
+Whose power your bushy wood doth shield;
+But I will die ere you shall yield.
+
+  _Enter_ LITTLE JOHN, &c.
+
+And sith your yeomen do appear,
+I'll give the watchword without fear.
+Take it, I pray thee, though it be more worth.
+
+    _Rush in_ SIR DONCASTER _with his crew_.
+
+DON. Smite down! lay hold on outlaw'd Huntington!
+
+LIT. JOHN. Soft, hot-spurr'd priest, 'tis not so quickly done.
+
+DON. Now, out alas! the friar and the maid
+Have to false thieves Sir Doncaster betray'd.
+
+                        [_Exeunt omnes_.[211]
+
+
+
+
+ACT IV., SCENE 1.
+
+
+    _Enter_ JOHN _crowned_, QUEEN ELINOR, CHESTER, SALISBURY,
+    LORD PRIOR. _Sit down all_. WARMAN _stands_.
+
+JOHN. As God's vicegerent, John ascends this throne,
+His head impal'd with England's diadem,[212]
+And in his hand the awful rod of rule,
+Giving the humble place of excellence,
+And to the low earth casting down the proud.
+
+QUEEN. Such upright rule is in each realm allow'd.
+
+JOHN. Chester, you once were Ely's open friend,
+And yet are doubtful whether he deserve
+A public trial for his private wrongs.
+
+CHES. I still am doubtful whether it be fit
+To punish private faults with public shame
+In such a person as Lord Ely is.
+
+PRIOR. Yes, honourable Chester, more it fits
+To make apparent sins of mighty men,
+And on their persons sharply to correct
+A little fault, a very small defect,
+Than on the poor to practise chastisement:
+For if a poor man die, or suffer shame,
+Only the poor and vile respect the same;
+But if the mighty fall, fear then besets
+The proud heart of the mighty ones, his mates:
+They think the world is garnished with nets,
+And traps ordained to entrap their states;
+Which fear in them begets a fear of ill,
+And makes them good, contrary to their will.
+
+JOHN. Your lordship hath said right. Lord Salisbury,
+Is not your mind as ours concerning Ely?
+
+SAL. I judge him worthy of reproof and shame.
+
+JOHN. Warman, bring forth your prisoner, Ely, the chancellor;
+And with him bring the seal that he detains.
+Warman, why goest thou not?
+
+WAR. Be good to me, my lord.
+
+JOHN. What hast thou done?
+
+WAR. Speak for me, my Lord Prior:
+All my good lords entreat his grace for me.
+Ely, my lord--
+
+JOHN. Why, where is Ely, Warman?
+
+WAR. Fled to-day: this misty morning he is fled away.
+
+JOHN. O Judas! whom nor friend nor foe may trust,
+Think'st thou with tears and plaints to answer this?
+Do I not know thy heart? do I not know
+That bribes have purchas'd Ely this escape?
+Never make antic faces, never bend
+With feigned humblesse thy still crouching knee,
+But with fix'd eyes unto thy doom attend.
+Villain! I'll plague thee for abusing me.
+Go hence; and henceforth never set thy foot
+In house or field thou didst this day possess.
+Mark what I say: advise thee to look to't,
+Or else, be sure, thou diest remediless.
+Nor from those houses see that thou receive
+So much as shall sustain thee for an hour,
+But as thou art, go where thou canst; get friends,
+And he that feeds thee be mine enemy.
+
+WAR. O my good lord!
+
+JOHN. Thou thy good lord betrayedst,
+And all the world for money thou wilt sell.
+
+WAR. What says the queen?
+
+QUEEN. Why, thus I say:
+Betray thy master, thou wilt all betray.
+
+WAR. My Lords of Chester and of Salisbury!
+
+BOTH. Speak not to us: all traitors we defy.
+
+WAR. Good my Lord Prior!
+
+PRIOR. Alas! what can I do?
+
+WAR. Then I defy the world! yet I desire
+Your grace would read this supplication.
+
+                            [JOHN _reads_.
+
+JOHN. I thought as much: but, Warman, dost thou think
+There is one moving line to mercy here?
+I tell thee, no; therefore away, away!
+A shameful death follows thy longer stay.
+
+WAR. O poor, poor man!
+Of miserable miserablest wretch I am.    [_Exit_.
+
+JOHN. Confusion be thy guide! a baser slave
+Earth cannot bear: plagues follow him, I crave.
+Can any tell me if my Lord of York
+Be able to sit up?
+
+QUEEN. The Archbishop's grace
+Was reasonable well even now, good son.
+
+SAL. And he desir'd me that I should desire
+Your majesty to send unto his grace,
+If any matter did import his presence.
+
+JOHN. We will ourselves step in and visit him.
+Mother and my good lords, will you attend us?
+
+PRIOR. I gladly will attend your majesty.
+
+JOHN. Now, good lord, help us! When I said good lords,
+I meant not you, Lord Prior: lord I know you are,
+But good, God knows, you never mean to be.
+
+            [_Exeunt_ JOHN, QUEEN, CHESTER, SALISBURY.
+
+PRIOR. John is incens'd; and very much, I doubt,
+That villain Warman hath accused me
+About the 'scape of Ely. Well, suppose he have,
+What's that to me? I am a clergyman,
+And all his power, if he all extend,
+Cannot prevail against my holy order.
+But the Archbishop's grace is now his friend,
+And may, perchance, attempt to do me ill.
+
+    _Enter a_ SERVING-MAN.
+
+What news with you, sir?
+
+SERV.-MAN. Even heavy news, my lord; for the lightning's[213] fire,
+Falling in manner of a firedrake[214]
+Upon a barn of yours, hath burnt six barns,
+And not a strike of corn reserv'd from dust.
+No hand could save it, yet ten thousand hands
+Laboured their best, though none for love of you;
+For every tongue with bitter cursing bann'd
+Your lordship, as the viper of the land.
+
+PRIOR. What meant the villains?
+
+SERV.-MAN. Thus and thus they cried:
+Upon this churl, this hoarder-up of corn,
+This spoiler of the Earl of Huntington,
+This lust-defiled, merciless, false prior,
+Heaven raineth vengeance down in shape of fire.
+Old wives, that scarce could with their crutches creep,
+And little babes, that newly learn'd to speak,
+Men masterless, that thorough want did weep,
+All in one voice, with a confused cry,
+In execrations bann'd you bitterly:
+Plague follow plague, they cry: he hath undone
+The good Lord Robert, Earl of Huntington.
+And then--
+
+PRIOR.[215] What then, thou villain? Get thee from my sight!
+They that wish plagues, plagues will upon them light.
+
+    _Enter another_ SERVANT.
+
+PRIOR. What are your tidings?
+
+SERV. The convent of St Mary's are agreed,
+And have elected in your lordship's place
+Old father Jerome, who is stall'd Lord Prior
+By the new Archbishop.
+
+PRIOR. Of York, thou mean'st?
+A vengeance on him! he is my hope's foe.
+
+    _Enter a_ HERALD.
+
+HER. Gilbert de Hood, late Prior of Saint Mary's,
+Our sovereign John commandeth thee by me,
+That presently thou leave this blessed land,
+Defiled with the burthen of thy sin.
+All thy goods temporal and spiritual,
+With free consent of Hubert Lord [of] York,
+Primate of England and thy ordinary,
+He hath suspended, and vowed by heaven
+To hang thee up, if thou depart not hence
+Without delaying or more question.
+And that he hath good reason for the same,
+He sends this writing 'firm'd with Warman's hand,
+And comes himself; whose presence if thou stay,
+I fear this sun will see thy dying day.
+
+PRIOR. O, Warman hath betray'd me! woe is me!
+
+    _Enter_ JOHN, QUEEN, CHESTER, SALISBURY.
+
+JOHN. Hence with that Prior! sirrah, do not speak:
+My eyes are full of wrath, my heart of wreak.[216]
+Let Leicester come: his haught heart, I am sure,
+Will check the kingly course we undertake.
+
+                              [_Exeunt cum_ PRIOR.
+
+    _Enter_ LEICESTER, _drum and ancient_.
+
+JOHN. Welcome from war, thrice noble Earl of Leicester,
+Unto our court: welcome, most valiant earl.
+
+LEI. Your court in England, and King Richard gone!
+A king in England, and the king from home!
+This sight and salutations are so strange,
+That what I should I know not how to speak.
+
+JOHN. What would you say? speak boldly, we entreat.
+
+LEI. It is not fear, but wonder, bars my speech.
+I muse to see a mother and a queen,
+Two peers so great as Salisbury and Chester,
+Sit and support proud usurpation,
+And see King Richard's crown worn by Earl John.
+
+QUEEN. He sits as viceroy and a[s] substitute.
+
+CHES. He must and shall resign, when Richard comes.
+
+SAL. Chester, he will, without your must and shall.
+
+LEI. Whether he will or no, he shall resign.
+
+JOHN. You know your own will, Leicester, but not mine.
+
+LEI. Tell me among ye, where is reverend Ely,
+Left by our dread king as his deputy?
+
+JOHN. Banish'd he is, as proud usurpers should.
+
+LEI. Pride then, belike, was enemy to pride:
+Ambition in yourself his state envied.
+Where is Fitzwater, that old honour'd lord?
+
+JOHN. Dishonour'd and exil'd, as Ely is.
+
+LEI. Exil'd he may be, but dishonour'd never!
+He was a fearless soldier and a virtuous scholar.
+But where is Huntington, that noble youth?
+
+CHES. Undone by riot.
+
+LEI. Ah! the greater ruth.
+
+JOHN. Leicester, you question more than doth become you.
+On to the purpose, why you come to us.
+
+LEI. I come to Ely and to all the state,
+Sent by the king, who three times sent before
+To have his ransom brought to Austria:
+And if you be elected deputy,
+Do as you ought, and send the ransom-money.
+
+JOHN. Leicester, you see I am no deputy;
+And Richard's ransom if you do require,
+Thus we make answer: Richard is a king,
+In Cyprus, Acon, Acre, and rich Palestine.
+To get those kingdoms England lent him men,
+And many a million of her substance spent,
+The very entrails of her womb were rent:
+No plough but paid a share, no needy hand,
+But from his poor estate of penury
+Unto his voyage offer'd more than mites,
+And more, poor souls, than they had might to spare.
+Yet were they joyful; for still flying news--
+And lying I perceive them now to be--
+Came of King Richard's glorious victories,
+His conquest of the Soldan,[217] and such tales
+As blew them up with hope, when he return'd,
+He would have scatter'd gold about the streets.
+
+LEI. Do princes fight for gold? O leaden thought!
+Your father knew that honour was the aim
+Kings level at. By sweet St John, I swear,
+You urge me so, that I cannot forbear.
+What do you tell of money lent the king,
+When first he went into this holy war,
+As if he had extorted from the poor,
+When you, the queen, and all that hear me speak,
+Know with what zeal the people gave their goods.
+Old wives took silver buckles from their belts;
+Young maids the gilt pins that tuck'd up their trains;
+Children their pretty whistles from their necks,
+And every man what he did most esteem,
+Crying to soldiers, "Wear these gifts of ours."
+This proves that Richard had no need to wrong,
+Or force the people, that with willing hearts
+Gave more than was desir'd. And where you say,
+You [do] guess Richard's victories but lies,
+I swear he wan rich Cyprus with his sword;
+And thence, more glorious than the guide of Greece,
+That brought so huge a fleet to Tenedos,
+He sail'd along the Mediterran sea,
+Where on a sunbright morning he did meet
+The warlike Soldan's[218] well-prepared fleet.
+O, still, methinks, I see King Richard stand
+In his gilt armour stain'd with Pagan's blood,
+Upon a galley's prow, like war's fierce god,
+And on his crest a crucifix of gold!
+O, that day's honour can be never told!
+Six times six several brigantines he boarded,
+And in the greedy waves flung wounded Turks;
+And three times thrice the winged galley's banks
+(Wherein the Soldan's son was admiral)
+In his own person royal Richard smooth'd,
+And left no heathen hand to be upheav'd
+Against the Christian soldiers.
+
+JOHN. Leicester, so?
+Did he all this?
+
+LEI. Ay, by God he did,
+And more than this: nay, jest [not] at it, John;
+I swear he did, by Leicester's faith he did,
+And made the green sea red with Pagan blood,
+Leading to Joppa glorious victory,
+And following fear, that fled unto the foe.
+
+JOHN. All this he did! perchance all this was so!
+
+LEI. Holy God, help me! soldiers, come away!
+This carpet-knight[219] sits carping at our scars,
+And jests at those most glorious, well-fought wars.
+
+JOHN. Leicester, you are too hot: stay; go not yet.
+Methinks, if Richard won those victories,
+The wealthy kingdoms he hath conquered
+May, better than poor England, pay his ransom.
+He left this realm, as a young orphan-maid,
+To Ely, the step-father of this state,
+That stripp'd the virgin to her very skin;
+And, Leicester, had not John more careful been
+Than Richard,
+At this hour England had not England been.
+Therefore, good warlike lord, take this in brief;
+We wish King Richard well, but can send no relief.
+
+LEI. O, let not my heart break with inward grief!
+
+JOHN. Yes, let it, Leicester: it is not amiss,
+That twenty such hearts break as your heart is.
+
+LEI. Are you a mother? were you England's queen?
+Were Henry, Richard, Geoffery, your sons?
+All sons but Richard--sun of all those sons
+And can you let this little meteor,
+This _ignis fatuus_, this same wandering fire,
+This goblin of the night, this brand, this spark,
+Seem through a lanthorn greater than he is?
+By heaven, you do not well: by earth, you do not?
+Chester, nor you, nor you, Earl Salisbury;
+Ye do not, no, ye do not what ye should.
+
+QUEEN. Were this bear loose, how he would tear our maws.
+
+CHES. Pale death and vengeance dwell within his jaws.
+
+SAL. But we can muzzle him, and bind his paws:
+If King John say we shall, we will indeed.
+
+JOHN. Do, if you can.
+
+LEI. It's well thou hast some fear.
+No, curs! ye have no teeth to bait this bear.[220]
+I will not bid mine ensign-bearer wave
+My tattered colours in this worthless air,
+Which your vile breaths vilely contaminate.
+Bearer,[221] thou'st been my ancient-bearer long,
+And borne up Leicester's bear in foreign lands;
+Yet now resign these colours to my hands,
+For I am full of grief and full of rage.
+John, look upon me: thus did Richard take
+The coward Austria's colours in his hand,
+And thus he cast them under Acon walls,
+And thus he trod them underneath his feet.
+Rich colours, how I wrong ye by this wrong!
+But I will right ye. Bear[er], take them again,
+And keep them ever, ever them maintain:
+We shall have use for them, I hope, ere long.
+
+JOHN. Dar'st thou attempt this proudly in our sight?
+
+LEI. What is't a subject dares, that I dare not?
+
+SAL. Dare subjects dare, their sovereign being by?
+
+LEI. O God, that my true sovereign were nigh!
+
+QUEEN. Leicester, he is.
+
+LEI. Madam, by God, you lie.
+
+CHES. Unmanner'd man.
+
+LEI. A plague of reverence,
+Where no regard is had of excellence.    [_Sound drum_.
+But you will quite[222] me now: I hear your drums:
+Your principality hath stirr'd up men,
+And now you think to muzzle up this bear.
+Still they come nearer, but are not the near.
+
+JOHN. What drums are these?
+
+SAL. I think, some friends of yours
+Prepare a power to resist this wrong.
+
+LEI. Let them prepare, for Leicester is prepar'd,
+And thus he wooes his willing men to fight.
+Soldiers,[223] ye see King Richard's open wrong;
+Richard, that led ye to the glorious East,
+And made ye tread upon the blessed land,
+Where he, that brought all Christians blessedness,
+Was born, lived, wrought his miracles, and died,
+From death arose, and then to heaven ascended;
+Whose true religious faith ye have defended.
+Ye fought, and Richard taught ye how to fight
+Against profane men, following Mahomet;
+But, if ye note, they did their kings their right:
+These more than heathen sacrilegious men,
+Professing Christ, banish Christ's champion hence,
+Their lawful lord, their home-born sovereign,
+With petty quarrels and with slight pretence.
+
+    _Enter_ RICHMOND, _Soldiers_.
+
+O, let me be as short as time is short,
+For the arm'd foe is now within our sight.
+Remember how 'gainst ten one man did fight,
+So hundreds against thousands have borne head!
+You are the men that ever conquered:
+If multitudes oppress ye that ye die,
+Let's sell our lives, and leave them valiantly.
+Courage! upon them! till we cannot stand.
+
+JOHN. Richmond is yonder.
+
+QUEEN. Ay, and, son, I think,
+The king is not far off.
+
+CHES. Now heaven forfend!
+
+LEI. Why smite ye not, but stand thus cowardly?
+
+RICH. If Richmond hurt good Leicester, let him die.
+
+LEI. Richmond! O, pardon mine offending eye,
+That took thee for a foe: welcome, dear friend!
+Where is my sovereign Richard? Thou and he
+Were both in Austria. Richmond, comfort me,
+And tell me where he is, and how he fares.
+O, for his ransom, many thousand cares
+Have me afflicted.
+
+RICH. Leicester, he is come to London,
+And will himself to faithless Austria,
+Like a true king, his promis'd ransom bear.
+
+LEI. At London, say'st thou, Richmond? is he there?
+Farewell: I will not stay to tell my wrongs
+To these pale-colour'd, heartless, guilty lords.
+Richmond, you shall go with me: do not stay,
+And I will tell you wonders by the way.
+
+RICH. The king did doubt you had some injury,
+And therefore sent this power to rescue ye.
+
+LEI. I thank his grace. Madam, adieu, adieu.
+I'll to your son, and leave your shade with you.
+
+                                        [_Exeunt_.
+
+JOHN. Hark how he mocks me, calling me your shade.
+Chester and Salisbury, shall we gather power,
+And keep what we have got?
+
+CHES. And in an hour
+Be taken, judg'd, and 'headed with disgrace.
+Salisbury, what say you?
+
+SAL. My lord, I bid your excellence adieu.
+I to King Richard will submit my knee:
+I have good hope his grace will pardon me.
+
+CHES. And, Salisbury, I'll go along with thee.
+Farewell, Queen Mother; fare you well, Lord John.
+
+JOHN. Mother, stay you.
+
+QUEEN. Not I, son, by Saint Anne.
+
+JOHN. Will you not stay?
+
+QUEEN. Go with me: I will do the best I may
+To beg my son's forgiveness of my son.    [_Exit_.
+
+JOHN. Go by yourself. By heaven, 'twas 'long of you
+I rose to fall so soon. Leicester and Richmond's crew,
+They come to take me: now too late I rue
+My proud attempt. Like falling Phaeton,
+I perish from my guiding of the sun.
+
+    _Enter again_ LEICESTER _and_ RICHMOND.[224]
+
+LEI. I will go back, i' faith, once more and see,
+Whether this mock king and the Mother Queen--
+And who--Here's neither queen nor lord!
+What, king of crickets, is there none but you?
+Come off, [this crown: this sceptre, off!][225]
+This crown, this sceptre are King Richard's right:
+Bear thou them, Richmond, thou art his true knight.
+You would not send his ransom, gentle John;
+He's come to fetch it now. Come, wily fox,
+Now you are stripp'd out of the lion's case,
+What, dare you look the lion in the face?
+The English lion, that in Austria
+With his strong hand pull'd out a lion's heart.
+Good Richmond, tell it me; for God's sake, do:
+O, it does me good to hear his glories told.
+
+RICH. Leicester, I saw King Richard with his fist
+Strike dead the son of Austrian Leopold,
+And then I saw him, by the duke's command,
+Compass'd and taken by a troop of men,
+Who led King Richard to a lion's den.
+Opening the door, and in a paved court,
+The cowards left King Richard weaponless:
+Anon comes forth the fire-eyed dreadful beast,
+And with a heart-amazing voice he roar'd,
+Opening (like hell) his iron-toothed jaws,
+And stretching out his fierce death-threatening paws.
+I tell thee, Leicester, and I smile thereat
+(Though then, God knows, I had no power to smile),
+I stood by treacherous Austria all the while,
+Who in a gallery with iron grates
+Stay'd to behold King Richard made a prey.
+
+LEI. What was't thou smiledst at in Austria?
+
+RICH. Leicester, he shook--so help me God, he shook--
+With very terror at the lion's look.
+
+LEI. Ah, coward! but go on, what Richard did.
+
+RICH. Richard about his right hand wound a scarf
+(God quite her for it) given him by a maid:
+With endless good may that good deed be paid!
+And thrust that arm down the devouring throat
+Of the fierce lion, and withdrawing it,
+Drew out the strong heart of the monstrous beast,
+And left the senseless body on the ground.
+
+LEI. O royal Richard: Richmond, look on John:
+Does he not quake in hearing this discourse?
+Come, we will leave him, Richmond: let us go.
+John, make suit
+For grace, that is your [only] means, you know.
+
+                                     [_Exeunt_.
+
+JOHN. A mischief on that Leicester! is he gone?
+'Twere best go too, lest in some mad fit
+He turn again, and lead me prisoner.
+Southward I dare not fly: fain, fain I would
+To Scotland bend my course; but all the woods
+Are full of outlaws, that in Kendal green
+Follow the outlaw'd Earl of Huntington.
+Well, I will clothe myself in such a suit,
+And by that means as well 'scape all pursuit,
+As pass the danger-threatening Huntington;
+For, having many outlaws, they'll think me
+By my attire one of their mates to be.
+
+                                     [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+SCENE 2.
+
+
+    _Enter_ SCARLET, LITTLE JOHN, _and_ FRIAR TUCK.
+
+FRIAR. Scarlet and John, so God me save,
+No mind unto my beads I have:
+I think it be a luckless day,
+For I can neither sing nor say;
+Nor have I any power to look
+On portace or on matin book.
+
+SCAR. What is the reason, tell us, Friar?
+
+FRIAR. And would ye have me be no liar?
+
+LIT. JOHN. No. God defend that you should lie:
+A churchman be a liar?--fie!
+
+FRIAR. Then, by this hallow'd crucifix,
+The holy water and the pix,
+It greatly at my stomach sticks,
+That all this day we had no gues',[226]
+And have of meat so many a mess.
+
+    MUCH _brings out_ ELY, _like a countryman with a basket_.
+
+MUCH. Well, and ye be but a market, ye are but a market-man.
+
+ELY. I am sure, sir, I do you no hurt, do I?
+
+SCAR. We shall have company, no doubt:
+My fellow Much hath found one out.
+
+FRIAR. A fox, a fox! as I am friar,
+Much is well worthy of good hire.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Say, Friar, soothly, know'st thou him!
+
+FRIAR. It is a wolf in a sheep's skin.
+Go, call our master, Little John;
+A glad man will he be anon.
+It's Ely, man, the chancellor.    [_Aside_.]
+
+LIT. JOHN. God's pity! look unto him, Friar.
+                 [_Aside. Exit_ LITTLE JOHN.
+
+MUCH. What, ha' ye eggs to sell, old fellow?
+
+ELY. Ay, sir, some few; and those my need constrains me bear to
+Mansfield, that I may sell them there to buy me bread.
+
+SCAR. Alas, good man! I prythee, where dost dwell?
+
+ELY. I dwell in Oxon, sir.
+
+SCAR. I know the town.
+
+MUCH. Alas, poor fellow! if thou dwell with oxen, it's strange they do
+not gore thee with their horns.
+
+ELY. Masters, I tell ye truly where I dwell,
+And whither I am going; let me go.
+Your master would be much displeas'd, I know,
+If he should hear you hinder poor men thus.
+
+FRIAR. Father, one word with you, before we part.
+
+MUCH. Scarlet, the Friar will make us have anger all.
+Farewell; and bear me witness, though I stay'd him,
+I stay'd him not. An old fellow and a market man!    [_Exit_.
+
+FRIAR. Whoop! in your riddles, Much? then we shall ha't.
+
+SCAR. What dost thou, Friar? prythee, let him go.
+
+FRIAR. I prythee, Scarlet, let us two alone.
+
+                                    [_Exit_ SCAR.
+
+ELY. Friar, I see thou know'st me: let me go,
+And many a good turn I to thee will owe.
+
+FRIAR. My master's service bids me answer no,
+Yet love of holy churchmen wills it so.
+Well, good my lord, I will do what I may
+To let your holiness escape away.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD _and_ LITTLE JOHN.[227]
+
+Here comes my master: if he question you,
+Answer him like a plain man, and you may pass.
+
+ELY. Thanks, Friar.
+
+FRIAR. O, my lord thinks me an ass.
+
+ROB. H. Friar, what honest man is there with thee?
+
+FRIAR. A silly man, good master. I will speak for you:
+Stand you aloof, for fear they note your face.    [_To_ ELY.
+
+        Master, in plain,
+        It were but in vain,
+        Long to detain
+        With toys or with babbles,
+        With fond, feigned fables;
+        But him that you see
+        In so mean degree
+        Is the Lord Ely,
+        That help'd to exile you,
+        That oft did revile you.
+        Though in his fall
+        His train be but small,
+        And no man at all
+        Will give him the wall,
+        Nor lord doth him call,
+        Yet he did ride,
+        On jennets pied,
+        And knights by his side
+        Did foot it each tide.
+        O, see the fall of pride.[228]
+
+ROB. H. Friar, enough.    [_Aside_.
+
+FRIAR. I pray, sir, let him go,
+He is a very simple man in show:
+He dwells at Oxon, and to us doth say,
+To Mansfield market he doth take his way.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Friar, this is not Mansfield market-day.
+
+ROB. H. What would he sell?
+
+FRIAR. Eggs, sir, as he says.
+
+ROB. H. Scarlet, go thy ways:
+Take in this old man, fill his skin with venison,
+And after give him money for his eggs.
+
+ELY. No, sir, I thank you, I have promis'd them
+To Master Bailey's wife, of Mansfield, all.
+
+ROB. H. Nay, sir, you do me wrong:
+No Bailey nor his wife shall have an egg.
+Scarlet, I say, take his eggs, and give him money.
+
+ELY. Pray, sir.
+
+FRIAR. Tush, let him have your eggs.
+
+ELY. Faith, I have none.
+
+FRIAR. God's pity, then, he will find you some.[229]
+
+SCAR. Here are no eggs, nor anything but hay.
+Yes, by the mass, here's somewhat like a seal!
+
+ROB. H. O God!
+My prince's seal! fair England's royal seal!
+Tell me, thou man of death, thou wicked man,
+How cam'st thou by this seal? wilt thou not speak?
+Bring burning irons! I will make him speak.
+For I do know the poor distressed lord,
+The king's vicegerent, learned, reverend Ely,
+Flying the fury of ambitious John,
+Is murder'd by this peasant. Speak, vile man,
+Where thou hast done thrice honourable Ely!
+
+ELY. Why dost thou grace Ely with styles of grace,
+Who thee with all his power sought to disgrace?
+
+ROB. H. Belike, his wisdom saw some fault in me.
+
+ELY. No, I assure thee, honourable earl;
+It was his envy, no defect of thine,
+And the persuasions of the Prior of York,
+Which Ely now repents. See, Huntington,
+Ely himself, and pity him, good son.
+
+ROB. H. Alas, for woe! alack, that so great state
+The malice of this world should ruinate!
+Come in, great lord, sit down and take thy ease,
+Receive the seal, and pardon my offence.
+With me you shall be safe, and if you please,
+Till Richard come, from all men's violence.
+Aged Fitzwater, banished by John,
+And his fair daughter shall converse with you:
+I and my men that me attend upon
+Shall give you all that is to honour due.
+Will you accept my service, noble lord?
+
+ELY. Thy kindness drives me to such inward shame,
+That, for my life, I no reply can frame.
+Go; I will follow. Blessed may'st thou be,
+That thus reliev'st thy foes in misery!
+
+                                        [_Exeunt_.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Skelton, a word or two beside the play.
+
+FRIAR. Now, Sir John Eltham, what is't you would say?
+
+LIT. JOHN. Methinks, I see no jests of Robin Hood,
+No merry morrices of Friar Tuck,
+No pleasant skippings up and down the wood,
+No hunting-songs, no coursing of the buck.
+Pray God this play of ours may have good luck,
+And the king's majesty mislike it not.
+
+FRIAR. And if he do, what can we do to that?
+I promis'd him a play of Robin Hood,
+His honourable life in merry Sherwood.
+His majesty himself survey'd the plot,
+And bad me boldly write it; it was good.
+For merry jests they have been shown before,
+As how the friar fell into the well
+For love of Jenny, that fair bonny belle;
+How Greenleaf robb'd the Shrieve of Nottingham,
+And other mirthful matter full of game.[230]
+Our play expresses noble Robert's wrong;
+His mild forgetting treacherous injury:
+The abbot's malice, rak'd in cinders long,
+Breaks out at last with Robin's tragedy.
+If these, that hear the history rehears'd,
+Condemn my play, when it begins to spring,
+I'll let it wither, while it is a bud,
+And never show the flower to the king.
+
+LIT. JOHN. One thing beside: you fall into your vein
+Of ribble-rabble rhymes Skeltonical,
+So oft, and stand so long, that you offend.
+
+FRIAR. It is a fault I hardly can amend.
+O, how I champ my tongue to talk these terms!
+I do forget ofttimes my friar's part;
+But pull me by the sleeve when I exceed,
+And you shall see me mend that fault indeed.
+
+        Wherefore, still sit you,
+        Doth Skelton entreat you
+        While he _facetè_
+        Will briefly repeat ye
+        The history all
+        And tale tragical,
+        By whose treachery
+        And base injury
+        Robin the good,
+        Call'd Robin Hood,
+        Died in Sherwood.
+        Which till you see,
+        Be ruled by me:
+        Sit patiently,
+        And give a plaudite,
+        If anything please ye.
+
+                     [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT V., SCENE 1.
+
+
+    _Enter_ WARMAN.
+
+WAR. Banish'd from all, of all I am bereft!
+No more than what I wear unto me left.
+O wretched, wretched grief, desertful fall!
+Striving to get all, I am reft of all.
+Yet if I could awhile myself relieve,
+Till Ely be in some place settled,
+A double restitution should I get,
+And these sharp sorrows, that have joy suppress'd,
+Should turn to joy with double interest.
+
+    _Enter a_ GENTLEMAN, _Warman's Cousin_.
+
+And in good time, here comes my cousin Warman,
+Whom I have often pleasur'd in my time.
+His house at Bingham I bestow'd on him,
+And therefore doubt not, he will give me house-room.
+Good even, cousin.
+
+COU. O cousin Warman, what good news with you?
+
+WAR. Whither so far a-foot walk you in Sherwood?
+
+COU. I came from Rotherham; and by hither Farnsfield
+My horse did tire, and I walk'd home a-foot.
+
+WAR. I do beseech you, cousin, at some friend's,
+Or at your own house, for a week or two
+Give me some succour.
+
+COU. Ha! succour, say you? No, sir:
+I heard at Mansfield how the matter stands;
+How you have justly lost your goods and lands,
+And that the prince's indignation
+Will fall on any that relieves your state.
+Away from me! your treacheries I hate.
+You, when your noble master was undone,
+(That honourable-minded Huntington),
+Who forwarder than you all to distrain?
+And, as a wolf that chaseth on the plain
+The harmless hind, so wolf-like you pursued
+Him and his servants. Vile ingratitude,
+Damn'd Judasism,[231] false wrong, abhorred treachery,
+Impious wickedness, wicked impiety!
+Out, out upon thee! foh, I spit at thee!
+
+WAR. Good cousin.
+
+COU. Away! I'll spurn thee if thou follow me.
+                                       [_Exit_.
+
+WAR. O just heaven, how thou plagu'st iniquity!
+All that he has my hand on him bestowed.
+My master gave me all I ever owed,
+My master I abus'd in his distress;
+In mine my kinsman leaves me comfortless.
+
+    _Enter_ JAILER _of Nottingham, leading a dog_.
+
+Here comes another; one that yesterday
+Was at my service, came when I did call,
+And him I made jailer of Nottingham.
+Perchance some pity dwells within the man;
+Jailer, well met; dost thou not know me, man?
+
+JAI. Yes, thou art Warman; every knave knows thee.
+
+WAR. Thou know'st I was thy master yesterday.
+
+JAI. Ay, but 'tis not as it was: farewell; go by.
+
+WAR. Good George, relieve my bitter misery.
+
+JAI. By this flesh and blood, I will not.
+No, if I do, the devil take me quick.
+I have no money, beggar: balk the way!
+
+WAR. I do not ask thee money.
+
+JAI. Wouldst ha' meat?
+
+WAR. Would God I had a little bread to eat.
+
+JAI. Soft, let me feel my bag. O, here is meat,
+That I put up at Retford for my dog:
+I care not greatly if I give thee[232] this.
+
+WAR. I prythee, do.
+
+JAI.[233] Yet let me search my conscience for it first:
+My dog's my servant, faithful, trusty, true;
+But Warman was a traitor to his lord,
+A reprobate, a rascal and a Jew,
+Worser than dogs, of men to be abhorr'd!
+Starve, therefore, Warman; dog, receive thy due.
+Follow me not, lest I belabour you,
+You half-fac'd groat, you thick-cheek'd chittyface;
+You Judas-villain! you that have undone
+The honourable Robert Earl of Huntington.    [_Exit_.
+
+WAR. Worse than a dog the villain me respects,
+His dog he feeds, me in my need rejects.
+What shall I do? yonder I see a shed,
+A little cottage, where a woman dwells,
+Whose husband I from death delivered:
+If she deny me, then I faint and die.
+Ho! goodwife Thompson!
+
+WOM. What a noise is there?
+A foul shame on ye! is it you that knock'd?
+
+WAR. What, do you know me then?
+
+WOM. Whoop! who knows not you?
+The beggar'd, banish'd Shrieve of Nottingham,
+You that betray'd your master: is't not you?
+Yes, a shame on you! and forsooth ye come,
+To have some succour here, because you sav'd
+My unthrift husband from the gallow-tree.
+A pox upon you both! would both for me
+Were hang'd together. But soft, let me see;
+The man looks faint: feel'st thou indeed distress?
+
+WAR. O, do not mock me in my heaviness.
+
+WOM. Indeed, I do not. Well, I have within
+A caudle made, I will go fetch it him.    [_Exit_.
+
+WAR. O blessed woman! comfortable word!
+Be quiet, entrails, you shall be reliev'd.
+
+    _Enter_ WOMAN.[234]
+
+WOM. Here, Warman, put this hempen caudle o'er thy head.
+See downward yonder is thy master's walk;
+And like a Judas, on some rotten tree,
+Hang up this rotten trunk of misery,
+That goers-by thy wretched end may see.
+Stirr'st thou not, villain? get thee from my door;
+A plague upon thee, haste and hang thyself.
+Run, rogue, away! 'tis thou that hast undone
+Thy noble master, Earl of Huntington.
+                                     [_Exit_.
+
+WAR. Good counsel and good comfort, by my faith.
+Three doctors are of one opinion,
+That Warman must make speed to hang himself.
+The last hath given a caudle comfortable,
+That to recure my griefs is strong and able:
+I'll take her medicine, and I'll choose this way,
+Wherein, she saith, my master hath his walk;
+There will I offer life for treachery,
+And hang, a wonder to all goers-by.
+But soft! what sound harmonious is this?
+What birds are these, that sing so cheerfully,
+As if they did salute the flowering spring?
+Fitter it were with tunes more dolefully
+They shriek'd out sorrow, than thus cheerly sing.
+I will go seek sad desperation's cell;
+This is not it, for here are green-leav'd trees.
+Ah, for one winter-bitten bared bough,
+Whereon a wretched life a wretch would lese.
+O, here is one! Thrice-blessed be this tree,
+If a man cursed may a blessing give.
+
+    _Enter_ OLD FITZWATER.
+
+But out, alas! yonder comes one to me
+To hinder death, when I detest to live.
+
+FITZ. What woful voice hear I within this wood?
+What wretch is there complains of wretchedness?
+
+WAR. A man, old man, bereav'd of all earth's good,
+And desperately seeks death in this distress.
+
+FITZ. Seek not for that which will be here too soon,
+At least, if thou be guilty of ill-deeds.
+Where art thou, son? come, and nearer sit:
+Hear wholesome counsel 'gainst unhallow'd thoughts.
+
+WAR. The man is blind. Muffle the eye of day,
+Ye gloomy clouds (and darker than my deeds,
+That darker be than pitchy sable night)
+Muster together on these high-topp'd trees,
+That not a spark of light thorough their sprays
+May hinder what I mean to execute.
+
+FITZ. What dost thou mutter? Hear me woful man.
+
+    _Enter_ MARIAN _with meat_.
+
+MAR. Good morrow, father.
+
+FITZ. Welcome, lovely maid;
+And in good time, I trust, you hither come.
+Look if you see not a distressful man,
+That to himself intendeth violence:
+One such even now was here, and is not far.
+Seek, I beseech you; save him, if you may.
+
+MAR. Alas! here is, here is a man enrag'd,
+Fastening a halter on a wither'd bough,
+And stares upon me with such frighted looks,
+As I am fearful of his sharp aspect.
+
+FITZ. What mean'st thou, wretch? say, what is't thou wilt do?
+
+WAR. As Judas did, so I intend to do,
+For I have done already as he did:
+His master he betray'd, so I have mine.
+Fair mistress, look not on me with your blessed eyne:
+From them, as from some excellence divine,
+Sparkles sharp judgment, and commands with speed.
+Fair, fare you well: foul fortune is my fate;
+As all betrayers, I die desperate.
+
+FITZ. Soft, ho! Go, Marian, call in Robin Hood:
+'Tis Warman, woman, that was once his steward.
+
+MAR. Alas! although it be, yet save his life!
+I will send help unto you presently.     [_Exit_.
+
+FITZ. Nay, Warman, stay; thou shalt have thy will.
+
+WAR. Art thou a blind man, and canst see my shame?
+To hinder treachers God restoreth sight,
+And giveth infants tongues to cry aloud
+A woful woe against the treacherous.
+
+    _Enter_ MUCH, _running_.
+
+MUCH. Hold, hold, hold! I hear say my fellow Warman is about to hang
+himself, and make I some speed to save him a labour. O good master,
+Justice Shrieve, have you execution in hand, and is there such a
+murrain among thieves and hangmen, that you play two parts in one? For
+old acquaintance, I will play one part. The knot under the ear, the
+knitting to the tree: Good Master Warman, leave that work for me.
+
+WAR. Despatch me, Much, and I will pray for thee.
+
+MUCH. Nay, keep your prayers, nobody sees us.
+                   [_He takes the rope, and offers to climb_.
+
+FITZ. Down, sirrah, down! whither, a knave's name, climb you?
+
+MUCH. A plague on ye for a blind sinksanker![235] would I were your
+match. You are much blind, i'faith, can hit so right.
+
+    _Enter_ LITTLE JOHN.
+
+LIT. JOHN. What, Master Warman, are ye come to yield
+A true account for your false stewardship?
+
+    _Enter_ SCARLET _and_ SCATHLOCK.
+
+SCATH. Much, if thou mean'st to get a hundred pound,
+Present us to the Shrieve of Nottingham.
+
+MUCH. Mass, I think there was such proclamation.
+Come, my small fellow John,
+You shall have half, and therefore bring in one.
+
+LIT. JOHN. No, my big fellow, honest Master Much,
+Take all unto yourself: I'll be no half.
+
+MUCH. Then stand: you shall be the two thieves, and I'll be the
+presenter.
+O Master Shrieve of Nottingham,
+When ears unto my tidings came,[236]
+(I'll speak in prose, I miss this verse vilely) that Scathlock and
+Scarlet were arrested by Robin Hood, my master, and Little John, my
+fellow, and Much, his servant, and taken from you, Master Shrieve,
+being well forward in the hanging way, wherein ye now are (and God keep
+ye in the same), and also that you, Master Shrieve, would give any man
+in town, city, or country a hundred pound of lawful arrant[237] money
+of England, that would bring the same two thieves, being these two; now
+I, the said Much, challenge of you the said Shrieve, bringing them, the
+same money.
+
+SCAR. Faith, he cannot pay thee, Much.
+
+MUCH. Ay, but while this end is in my hand, and that about his neck,
+he is bound to it.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN, ELY, MARIAN.
+
+WAR. Mock on, mock on: make me your jesting game.
+I do deserve much more than this small shame.
+
+ROB. H. Disconsolate and poor dejected man,
+Cast from thy neck that shameful sign of death,
+And live for me, if thou amend thy life,
+As much in favour as thou ever didst.
+
+WAR. O, worse than any death,
+When a man wrong'd his wronger pitieth!
+
+ELY. Warman, be comforted, rise and amend:
+On my word, Robin Hood will be thy friend.
+
+ROB. H. I will indeed: go in, heart-broken man.
+Father Fitzwater, pray lead him in.
+Kind Marian, with sweet comforts comfort him,
+And my tall yeomen, as you me affect,
+Upbraid him not with his forepassed life.
+Warman, go in; go in and comfort thee.
+
+WAR. O, God requite your honour's courtesy.
+
+MAR. Scathlock or Scarlet, help us, some of ye.
+
+    [_Exeunt_ WARMAN, MARIAN, FITZWATER, SCATHLOCK, SCARLET, MUCH.
+
+    _Enter_ FRIAR TUCK _in his truss, without his weed_.
+
+FRIAR. Jesu benedicite!
+       Pity on pity,
+       Mercy on mercy,
+       Misery on misery!
+       O, such a sight,
+       As by this light,
+       Doth me affright?
+
+ROB. H. Tell us the matter, prythee, holy Friar.
+
+FRIAR. Sir Doncaster the priest and the proud Prior
+Are stripp'd and wounded in the way to Bawtrey,
+And if there go not speedy remedy,
+They'll die, they'll die in this extremity.
+
+ROB. H. Alas! direct us to that wretched place:
+I love mine uncle, though he hateth me.
+
+FRIAR. My weed I cast to keep them from the cold,
+And Jenny, gentle girl, tore all her smock
+The bloody issue of their wounds to stop.
+
+ROB. H. Will you go with us, my good Lord of Ely?
+
+ELY. I will, and ever praise thy perfect charity.
+
+                                        [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Enter_ PRINCE JOHN _solus, in green: with bow and arrows_.
+
+JOHN. Why, this is somewhat like: now may I sing,
+As did the Wakefield Pinder in his note--
+
+    _At Michaelmas cometh my covenant out,
+      My master gives me my fee:
+    Then, Robin, I'll wear thy Kendal green,
+      And wend to the greenwood with thee_.[238]
+
+But for a name now: John it must not be,
+Already Little John on him attends:
+Greenleaf? Nay, surely there's such a one already:
+Well, I'll be Woodnet, hap what happen may.
+
+    _Enter_ SCATHLOCK.
+
+Here comes a green coat (good luck be my guide)
+Some sudden shift might help me to provide.
+
+SCATH. What, fellow William, did you meet our master?
+
+JOHN. I did not meet him yet, my honest friend.
+
+SCATH. My honest friend! why, what a term is here?
+My name is Scathlock, man, and if thou be
+No other than thy garments show to me,
+Thou art my fellow, though I know thee not.
+What is thy name? When wert thou entertain'd?
+
+JOHN. My name is Woodnet; and this very day
+My noble master, Earl of Huntington,
+Did give me both my fee and livery.
+
+SCATH. Your noble master, Earl of Huntington!
+I'll lay a crown you are a counterfeit,
+And that, you know, lacks money of a noble.
+Did you receive your livery and fee,
+And never heard our orders read unto you?
+What was the oath was given you by the Friar?
+
+JOHN. Who?--Friar Tuck?
+
+SCATH. Ay, do not play the liar,
+For he comes here himself to shrive.
+
+    _Enter_ FRIAR TUCK.
+
+JOHN. Scathlock, farewell; I will away.
+
+SCATH. See you this arrow? it says nay.
+Through both your sides shall fly this feather,
+If presently you come not hither.
+
+FRIAR. Now heaven's true liberality
+Fall ever for his charity
+Upon the head of Robin Hood,
+That to his very foes doth good.
+Lord God! how he laments the Prior,
+And bathes his wounds against the fire.
+Fair Marian, God requite it her,
+Doth even as much for Doncaster,
+Whom newly she hath lain in bed,
+To rest his weary, wounded head.
+
+SCATH. Ho! Friar Tuck, know you this mate?
+
+FRIAR. What's he?
+
+SCATH. He says my master late
+Gave him his fee and livery.
+
+FRIAR. It is a leasing, credit me.
+How chance, sir, then you were not sworn?
+
+JOHN. What mean this groom and lozel friar,
+So strictly matters to inquire?
+Had I a sword and buckler here,
+You should aby these questions dear.
+
+FRIAR. Say'st thou me so, lad? lend him thine,
+For in this bush here lieth mine.
+Now will I try this new-come guest.
+
+SCATH. I am his first man, Friar Tuck,
+And if I fail, and have no luck,
+Then thou with him shalt have a pluck.
+
+FRIAR. Be it so, Scathlock. Hold thee, lad,
+No better weapons can be had:
+The dew doth them a little rust;
+But, hear ye, they are tools of trust.[239]
+
+JOHN. Gramercy, Friar, for this gift,
+And if thou come unto my shrift,
+I'll make thee call those fellows fools
+That on their foes bestow such tools.
+
+SCATH. Come, let's to't.
+
+        [_Fight, and the_ FRIAR _looks on_.
+
+FRIAR. The youth is deliver[240] and light,
+He presseth Scathlock with his might:
+Now, by my beads, to do him right,
+I think he be some tried knight.
+
+SCATH. Stay, let us breathe!
+
+JOHN. I will not stay;
+If you leave, Friar, come away.
+
+SCATH. I prythee, Friar, hold him play.
+
+FRIAR. Friar Tuck will do the best he may.
+
+                                 [_Fight_.
+
+    _Enter_ MARIAN.
+
+MAR. Why, what a noise of swords is here!
+Fellows, and fight our bower so near?
+
+SCATH. Mistress, he is no man of yours,
+That fights so fast with Friar Tuck;
+But, on my word, he is a man
+As good for strength as any can.
+
+MAR. Indeed, he's more than common men can be;
+In his high heart there dwells the blood of kings.
+Go call my Robin, Scathlock: [_Aside_] 'tis Prince John.
+
+SCATH. Mistress, I will: I pray [thee] part the fray.    [_Exit_.
+
+MAR. I prythee go, I will do what I may.
+Friar, I charge thee hold thy hand.
+
+FRIAR. Nay, younker, to your tackling stand.
+What, all amort,[241] will you not fight?
+
+JOHN. I yield, unconquer'd by thy might,
+But by Matilda's glorious sight.
+
+FRIAR. Mistress, he knows you: what is he?
+
+JOHN. Like to amazing wonder she appears,
+And from her eye flies love unto my heart,
+Attended by suspicious thoughts and fears
+That numb the vigour of each outward part.
+Only my sight hath all satiety
+And fulness of delight, viewing her deity.
+
+MAR. But I have no delight in you, Prince John.
+
+FRIAR. Is this Prince John?
+Give me thy hand, thou art a proper man:
+And for this morning's work, by saints above,
+Be ever sure of Friar Tuck's true love.
+
+JOHN. Be not offended that I touch thy shrine;
+Make this hand happy: let it fold in thine.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD, FITZWATER, ELY, WARMAN.
+
+ROB. H. What saucy woodman, Marian, stands so near?
+
+JOHN. A woodman, Robin, that would strike your deer
+With all his heart. Nay, never look so strange,
+You see this fickle world is full of change:
+John is a ranger, man, compell'd to range.
+
+FITZ. You are young, wild lord, and well may travel bear.
+
+JOHN. What, my old friend Fitzwater, are you there?
+And you, Lord Ely? and old best-betruss'd?[242]
+Then I perceive that to this gear we must.
+A mess of my good friends! which of you four
+Will purchase thanks by yielding to the king
+The body of the rash, rebellious John?
+Will you, Fitzwater?
+
+FITZ. No, John, I defy[243]
+To stain my old hands in thy youthful blood.
+
+JOHN. You will, Lord Ely; I am sure you will.
+
+ELY. Be sure, young man, my age means thee no ill.
+
+JOHN. O, you will have the praise, brave Robin Hood.
+The lusty outlaw, lord of this large wood:
+He'll lead a king's son prisoner to a king,
+And bid the brother smite the brother dead.
+
+ROB. H. My purpose you have much misconstrued:
+Prince John, I would not for the wide world's wealth
+Incense his majesty, but do my best
+To mitigate his wrath, if he be mov'd.
+
+JOHN. Will none of you? then, here's one I dare say,
+That from his childhood knows how to betray:
+Warman, will you not help to hinder all you may?
+
+WAR. With what I have been, twit me not, my lord:
+My old sins at my soul I do detest.
+
+JOHN. Then, that he came this way Prince John was blest.
+Forgive me, Ely; pardon me, Fitzwater:
+And Robin, to thy hands myself I yield.
+
+ROB. H. And as my heart from hurt I will thee shield.
+
+    _Enter_ MUCH, _running_.
+
+MUCH. Master, fly! hide ye, mistress! we all shall be taken.
+
+ROB. H. Why, what's the matter?
+
+MUCH. The king! the king! and twelve and twenty score of horses.
+
+ROB. H. Peace, fool! we have no cause from him to fly.
+
+    _Enter_ SCARLET, LITTLE JOHN.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Scarlet and I were hunting on the plain;
+To us came royal Richard from his train,
+For a great train of his is hard at hand,
+And questioned us if we serv'd Robin Hood?
+I said we did; and then his majesty,
+Putting this massy chain about my neck,
+Said what I shame to say, but joy'd to hear.
+Let Scarlet tell it, it befits not me.
+
+SCAR. Quoth our good king, Thy name is Little John,
+And thou hast long time serv'd Earl Huntington:
+Because thou left'st him not in misery,
+A hundred marks I give thee yearly fee,
+And from henceforth thou shalt a squire be.
+
+MUCH. O lord, what luck had I to run away!
+I should have been made a knight or a lady, sure.
+
+SCAR. Go, said the king, and to your master say,
+Richard is come to call him to the court,
+And with his kingly presence chase the clouds
+Of grief and sorrow, that in misty shades
+Have veil'd the honour of Earl Huntington.
+
+ROB. H. Now God preserve him! hie you back again,
+And guide him, lest in bypaths he mistake.
+Much, fetch a richer garment for my father;
+Good Friar Tuck, I prythee rouse thy wits:
+Warman, visit mine uncle and Sir Doncaster,
+See if they can come forth to grace our show.
+God's pity, Marian, let your Jenny wait.
+Thanks, my lord chancellor, you are well prepar'd;
+And, good Prince John, since you are all in green,
+Disdain not to attend on Robin Hood:
+Frolic, I pray; I trust to do ye good.
+
+    _Enter_ PRIOR _and_ SIR DONCASTER.[244]
+
+Welcome, good uncle, welcome, Sir Doncaster.
+Say, will ye sit; I fear ye cannot stand.
+
+PRIOR. Yes, very well.
+
+ROB. H. Why, cheerly, cheerly then.
+The trumpet sounds, the king is now at hand:
+Lords, yeomen, maids, in decent order stand.
+
+    _The trumpets sound the while_ ROBIN HOOD _places them.
+    Enter first, bareheaded_, LITTLE JOHN _and_ SCARLET;
+    _likewise_ CHESTER _and_ LEICESTER, _bearing the sword
+    and sceptre; the_ KING _follows, crowned, clad in green;
+    after him_ QUEEN MOTHER; _after her_ SALISBURY _and_
+    RICHMOND. SCARLET _and_ SCATHLOCK _turn to_ ROBIN HOOD,
+    _who with all his company kneel down and cry_--
+
+ALL. God save King Richard! Lord preserve your grace!
+
+KING. Thanks all; but chiefly, Huntington, to thee.
+Arise, poor earl; stand up, my late-lost son.
+And on thy shoulders let me rest my arms,
+That have been toiled long with heathen wars.
+True pillar of my state, right lord indeed,
+Whose honour shineth in the den of need,
+I am even full of joy and full of woe,
+To see thee, glad; but sad to see thee so.
+
+ROB. H. O, that I could pour out my soul in prayers,
+And praises for this kingly courtesy!
+Do not, dread lord, grieve at my low estate:
+Never so rich, never so fortunate,
+Was Huntington as now himself he finds;
+And to approve it, may it please your grace,
+But to accept such presents at the hand
+Of your poor servant as he hath prepar'd.
+You shall perceive the Emperor of the East,
+Whom you contended with at Babylon,
+Had not such presents to present you with.
+
+KING. Art thou so rich? swift,[245] let me see thy gifts.
+
+ROB. H. First, take again this jewel you had lost,
+Aged Fitzwater, banished by John.
+
+KING. A gem indeed! no prince hath such a one.
+Good, good old man, as welcome unto me
+As cool fresh air in heat's extremity.
+
+FITZ. And I as glad to kiss my sovereign's hand,
+As the wreck'd swimmer, when he feels the land.
+
+QUEEN. Welcome, Fitzwater, I am glad to see you.
+
+FITZ. I thank your grace: but let me hug these twain,
+Leicester and Richmond, Christ's sworn champions,
+That follow'd Richard in his holy war.
+
+RICH. Noble Fitzwater, thanks, and welcome both.
+
+LEI. O God, how glad I am to see this lord!
+I cannot speak, but welcome at a word.
+
+ROB. H. Next, take good Ely in your royal hands,
+Who fled from death and most uncivil bonds.
+
+KING. Robin, thy gifts exceed. Morton, my chancellor!
+In this man giv'st thou holiness and honour.
+
+ELY. Indeed he gives me, and he gave me life,
+Preserving me from fierce pursuing foes.
+When I, to blame, had wrought him many woes.
+With me he likewise did preserve this seal,
+Which I surrender to your majesty.
+
+KING. Keep it, good Ely, keep it still for me.
+
+ROB. H. The next fair jewel that I will present
+Is richer than both these; yet in the foil,
+My gracious lord, it hath a foul default
+Which if you pardon, boldly I protest,
+It will in value far exceed the rest.
+
+JOHN. That's me he means; i'faith, my turn is next.
+He calls me foil: i'faith, I fear a foil.
+Well, 'tis a mad lord, this same Huntington.    [_Aside_.
+
+ROB. H. Here is Prince John, your brother, whose revolt
+And folly in your absence, let me crave,
+With his submission may be buried;
+For he is now no more the man he was,
+But dutiful in all respects to you.
+
+KING. Pray God it prove so. Well, good Huntington,
+For thy sake pardon'd is our brother John,
+And welcome to us in all hearty love.
+
+ROB. H. This last I give, as tenants do their lands,
+With a surrender to receive again
+The same into their own possession;
+No Marian, but Fitzwater's chaste Matilda:
+The precious jewel, that poor Huntington
+Doth in this world hold as his best esteem.
+Although with one hand I surrender her,
+I hold the other, as one looking still
+Richard return her: so I hope he will.
+
+KING. Else God forbid. Receive thy Marian back,
+And never may your love be separate,
+But flourish fairly to the utmost date.
+
+ROB. H. Now please my king to enter Robin's bower,
+And take such homely welcome as he finds,
+It shall be reckon'd as my happiness.
+
+KING. With all my heart. Then, as combined friends,
+Go we together: here all quarrel ends.
+
+                            [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Manent_ SIR JOHN ELTHAM _and_ SKELTON.
+
+SIR JOHN. Then, Skelton, here I see you will conclude.
+
+SKEL. And reason good: have we not held too long?
+
+SIR JOHN. No, in good sadness, I dare gage my life,
+His highness will accept it very kindly:
+But, I assure you, he expects withal
+To see the other matters tragical,
+That follow in the process of the story.
+Wherein are many a sad accident,
+Able to make the stoutest mind relent:
+I need not name the points, you know them all!
+From Marian's eye shall not one tear be shed?
+Skelton, i' faith, 'tis not the fashion.
+The king must grieve, the queen must take it ill:
+Ely must mourn, aged Fitzwater weep,
+Prince John, the lords, his yeomen must lament,
+And wring their woful hands for Robin's woe.
+Then must the sick man, fainting by degrees,
+Speak hollow words, and yield his Marian,
+Chaste maid Matilda, to her father's hands;
+And give her, with King Richard's full consent,
+His lands, his goods, late seiz'd on by the Prior,
+Now by the Prior's treason made the king's.
+Skelton, there are a many other things,
+That ask long time to tell them lineally;
+But ten times longer will the action be.
+
+SKEL. Sir John, i' faith, I know not what to do,
+And I confess that all you say is true.
+Will you do one thing for me? Crave the king
+To see two parts: say, 'tis a pretty thing.
+I know you can do much; if you excuse me,
+While Skelton lives, Sir John, be bold to use me.
+
+SIR JOHN. I will persuade the king; but how can you
+Persuade all these beholders to content?
+
+SKEL. Stay, Sir John Eltham: what to them I say,
+Deliver to the king from me, I pray.
+Well-judging hearers, for a while suspend
+Your censures of this play's unfinish'd end,
+And Skelton promises for this offence
+The second part shall presently be penn'd.
+There shall you see, as late my friend did note,
+King Richard's revels at Earl Robert's bower;
+The purpos'd mirth and the performed moan;
+The death of Robin and his murderers.
+For interest of your stay, this will I add:
+King Richard's voyage back to Austria,
+The swift-returned tidings of his death,
+The manner of his royal funeral.[246]
+Then John shall be a lawful crowned king,
+But to Matilda bear unlawful love.
+Aged Fitzwater's final banishment;
+His piteous end, of power tears to move
+From marble pillars. The catastrophe
+Shall show you fair Matilda's tragedy,
+Who (shunning John's pursuit) became a nun,
+At Dunmow[247] Abbey, where she constantly
+Chose death to save her spotless chastity.
+Take but my word, and if I fail in this,
+Then let my pains be baffled with a hiss.
+
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+_EDITION_.
+
+
+_The Death of Robert Earle of Huntington. Otherwise called Robin Hood of
+merrie Sherwodde: with the lamentable Tragedie of chaste Matilda, his
+faire maid Marian, poysoned at Dunmowe by King Iohn. Acted by the Right
+Honourable the Earle of Notingham, Lord high Admirall of England, his
+seruants. Imprinted at London, for William Leake_ 1601. 4to. B.L.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+Henry Chettle, who certainly joined Anthony Munday in writing "The Death
+of Robert Earl of Huntington,"[248] if he did not also assist in penning
+"The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington," was a very prolific
+dramatic author. Malone erroneously states that he was the writer of, or
+was concerned in, thirty plays; according to information which he
+himself furnishes, forty-two are, either wholly or in part, to be
+assigned to Chettle. The titles of only twenty-five are inserted in the
+"Biographia Dramatica." The proof of his connection with the historical
+play now reprinted has been already supplied,[249] and it is derived
+from the same source as nearly all the rest of the intelligence
+regarding his works--the MSS. of Henslowe.
+
+Of the incidents of the life of Henry Chettle absolutely nothing is
+known: we are ignorant of the times and places of his birth and death,
+and of the manner in which he obtained his education. It has been
+conjectured that he either was, or had been, a printer, but the point
+is very doubtful.[250] In a tract by him, called "England's Mourning
+Garment," on the death of Queen Elizabeth, he speaks of himself as
+having been "young almost thirty years ago," and as having been a
+witness of what passed at that period in the Court. If Ritson's
+conjecture [had been] well-founded, he [might have been admitted as]
+an author as early as 1578;[251] but the poetical tract assigned to
+him [under that date was the work of some other writer with the same
+initials, whose name is not known.]
+
+The first account we have of Chettle in connection with the stage is
+under date of April 1599,[252] when, according to Henslowe, he was
+engaged with Dekker in writing a play called "Troilus and Cressida;" but
+there is good reason to infer, that if in 1603 he were "young almost
+thirty years ago," he had written for the theatre before 1599. Besides,
+in his "Kind Hartes Dreame," produced about three months after the
+death of his friend Robert Greene, on September 3d, 1592, he speaks
+generally of his connection with the dramatic poets of that day, as if
+it were not newly formed. Malone supposed that Shakespeare, with whom
+Chettle had then recently become acquainted, was alluded to in the same
+tract. In "England's Mourning Garment" Chettle addresses a stanza to
+"silver-tongued Melicert," [whom some critics have supposed to be
+Shakespeare. But this is mere conjecture.]
+
+Francis Meres, in his often-quoted "Palladis Tamia" (1598), includes
+Chettle in a long list of other writers for the stage, as "one of the
+best for comedy;" but in earlier works upon the poetry and literature of
+England, such as Webbe's "Discourse" in 1586, and Puttenham's "Art of
+English Poesie" in 1589, he is not mentioned.
+
+Henslowe's list of plays, with the authors' names attached, as [edited
+by Mr Collier], begins [in February 1591-2;] and there the first mention
+of Chettle is in February 1597-8: between that date and March 1602-3, a
+period of little more than five years, he wrote, or assisted in writing,
+all the dramatic performances with which his name is associated; a fact
+of itself sufficient to show, if Henslowe be accurate, that in many of
+them his share must have been very inconsiderable, perhaps only
+amounting to a few alterations. They are the following, exclusive of
+those pieces already enumerated,[253] in which he was concerned with
+Munday:--
+
+1. The Valiant Welchman, by Michael Drayton and Henry Chettle, February
+1597-8. Printed in 1615.[254]
+
+2. Earl Goodwin and his Three Sons, Part I., by Michael Drayton, Henry
+Chettle, Thomas Dekker, and Robert Wilson, March 1598. Not printed.
+
+3. Earl Goodwin, Part II., by the same authors, and under the same date
+in Henslowe's papers. Not printed.
+
+4. Piers of Exton, by the same authors, same date. Not printed.
+
+5. Black Batman of the North, Part I., by Henry Chettle, April 1598. Not
+printed.
+
+6. Black Batman of the North, Part II., by Henry Chettle and Robert
+Wilson. Same date. Not printed.
+
+7. The Play of a Woman, by Henry Chettle, July 1598. Not printed.[255]
+
+8. The Conquest of Brute with the first finding of the Bath, by John
+Day, Henry Chettle, and John Singer. Same date. Not printed.
+
+9. Hot Anger soon Cold, by Henry Porter, Henry Chettle, and Ben Jonson,
+August 1598. Not printed.
+
+10. Catiline's Conspiracy, by Robert Wilson and Henry Chettle. Same
+date. Not printed.
+
+11. 'Tis no Deceit to Deceive the Deceiver, by Henry Chettle, September
+1598. Not printed.
+
+12. Aeneas' Revenge, with the Tragedy of Polyphemus, by Henry Chettle,
+February 1598-9. Not printed.
+
+13. Agamemnon, by Henry Chettle and Thomas Dekker, June 1599. Not
+printed. Malone thought that this was the same play as "Troilus and
+Cressida" before mentioned.
+
+14. The Stepmother's Tragedy, by Henry Chettle, August 1599. Not
+printed.
+
+15. Patient Grissel, by Thomas Dekker, Henry Chettle, and William
+Haughton, December 1599. Printed in 1603.
+
+16. The Arcadian Virgin, by Henry Chettle and William Haughton. Same
+date. Not printed.
+
+17. Damon and Pithias, by Henry Chettle, January 1599-1600. Not
+printed.[256]
+
+18. The Seven Wise Masters, by Henry Chettle, Thomas Dekker, William
+Haughton, and John Day, March 1599-1600. Not printed.
+
+19. The Golden Ass and Cupid and Psyche, by Thomas Dekker, John Day, and
+Henry Chettle, April 1600. Not printed.
+
+20. The Wooing of Death, by Henry Chettle. Same date. Not printed.
+
+21. The Blind Beggar of Bethnal Green, by Henry Chettle and John Day.
+Same date. Printed in 1659.
+
+22. All is not Gold that Glisters, by Samuel Rowley and Henry Chettle,
+March 1600. Not printed.
+
+23. Sebastian, King of Portugal, by Henry Chettle and Thomas Dekker,
+April 1601. Not printed.
+
+24. Cardinal Wolsey, Part I., by Henry Chettle, August 1601. Not
+printed.
+
+25. Cardinal Wolsey, Part II., by Henry Chettle, May 1602. Not printed.
+
+26. The Orphan's Tragedy, by Henry Chettle, September 1601. Not printed.
+
+27. Too Good to be True, by Henry Chettle, Richard Hathwaye, and
+Wentworth Smith, November 1601. Not printed.
+
+28. Love Parts Friendship, by Henry Chettle and Wentworth Smith, May
+1602. Not printed.
+
+29. Tobyas, by Henry Chettle. Same date. Not printed.
+
+30. Jeptha, by Henry Chettle. Same date. Not printed.
+
+31. A Danish Tragedy, by Henry Chettle. Same date. Not printed.
+
+32. Femelanco, by Henry Chettle and ---- Robinson, September 1602. Not
+printed.
+
+33. Lady Jane, Part I., by Henry Chettle, Thomas Dekker, Thomas Haywood,
+Wentworth Smith, and John Webster, November 1602. Not printed.
+
+34. Lady Jane, Part II., by the same authors, Smith excepted. Same date.
+Not printed.
+
+35. The London Florentine, Part I., by Thomas Heywood and Henry Chettle,
+December 1602. Not printed.
+
+36. The London Florentine, Part II., by the same authors. Same date. Not
+printed.
+
+37. The Tragedy of Hoffman, by Henry Chettle. Same date. Printed in
+1631.
+
+38. Jane Shore, by Henry Chettle and John Day, March 1602-3. Not
+printed.
+
+Among the scattered notices in Henslowe's papers is an entry, dated
+September 3d, 1599, of 40s. advanced to Chettle, Jonson, Dekker, "and
+other gentlemen," on account of a tragedy they were engaged upon called
+"Robert the Second, King of Scots."
+
+The interest of the "second part" of "Robert Earl of Huntington," on the
+whole, is stronger than that of the first part, and some powerful,
+though not always tasteful, writing gives effect to the situations. The
+death of Robin Hood takes place as early as the end of the first act,
+and attention is afterwards directed to the two, otherwise unconnected,
+plots of the fate of Lady Bruce and her little son, and of the love of
+King John for Matilda. Robert Davenport's Tragedy of "King John and
+Matilda," printed in 1655, goes precisely over the same ground, and with
+many decided marks of imitation, especially in the conduct of the story.
+Davenport's production is inferior in most respects to the earlier work
+of Chettle and Munday.
+
+
+
+
+DRAMATIS PERSONAE.[257]
+
+
+KING RICHARD THE FIRST.
+PRINCE JOHN, _afterwards King_.
+ROBERT, _Earl of Huntington_.
+LITTLE JOHN.
+SCATHLOCK.
+SCARLET.
+FRIAR TUCK.
+MUCH, _the Clown_.
+BISHOP OF ELY.
+CHESTER.
+SALISBURY.
+LEICESTER.
+RICHMOND.
+FITZWATER.
+YOUNG FITZWATER.
+WINCHESTER.
+BRUCE.
+YOUNG BRUCE.
+BOY, _son of Lady Bruce_.
+OXFORD.
+HUBERT.
+MOWBRAY.
+BONVILLE.
+PRIOR OF YORK.
+JUSTICE WARMAN.
+SIR DONCASTER.
+MONK OF BURY.
+WILL BRAND.
+_Maskers, Messengers, Soldiers, &c_.
+QUEEN MOTHER.
+QUEEN.
+MATILDA.
+LADY BRUCE.
+ABBESS OF DUNMOW.
+
+
+
+
+THE DEATH OF ROBERT EARL OF HUNTINGTON.
+
+
+
+
+ACT I, SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ FRIAR TUCK.[258]
+
+FRIAR. Holla, holla, holla! follow, follow, follow!
+                              [_Like noise within_.
+
+        Now, benedicite!
+        What foul absurdity,
+        Folly and foolery
+        Had like to follow me!
+        I and my mates,
+        Like addle-pates,
+        Inviting great states
+        To see our last play,
+        Are hunting the hay,
+        With "Ho! that way
+        The goodly hart ran,"
+        With "Follow, Little John!
+        Much, play the man!"
+        And I, like a sot,
+        Have wholly forgot
+        The course of our plot
+        But, cross-bow, lie down,
+        Come on, friar's gown,
+        Hood, cover my crown,
+        And with a low beck
+        Prevent a sharp check.
+
+Blithe sit ye all, and wink at our rude cry:
+Mind, where we left in Sherwood merrily
+The king, his train Robin, his yeomen tall,
+Gone to the wood to see the fat deer fall.
+We left maid Marian busy in the bower,
+And pretty Jenny looking every hour
+For their returning from the hunting-game,
+And therefore seek to set each thing in frame.
+Warman all woful for his sin we left:
+Sir Doncaster, whose villanies and theft
+You never heard of, but too soon ye shall,
+Housed[259] with the Prior, shame them both befall!
+They two will make our mirth be short and small.
+But lest I bring ye sorrow ere the time,
+Pardon I beg of your well-judging eyne,
+And take in part bad prologue and rude play.
+The hunters halloo! Tuck must needs away.
+Therefore down, weed;
+
+        Bow, do the deed
+        To make the stag bleed;
+        And if my hand speed,
+        Hey for a cry,
+        With a throat strain'd high,
+        And a loud yall
+        At the beast's fall
+
+    _Enter_ KING, ELY, FITZWATER, SALISBURY, CHESTER,
+    PRINCE JOHN, LITTLE JOHN, SCATHLOCK.
+
+KING. Where is our mother?[260]
+
+JOHN. Mounted in a stand:
+Six fallow deer have died by her hand.
+
+FITZ. Three stags I slew.
+
+ELY. Two bucks by me fell down.
+
+CHES. As many died by me.
+
+SAL. But I had three.
+
+JOHN. Scathlock, where's Much?
+
+SCATH. When last I saw him, may it please your grace,
+He and the Friar footed it apace.
+
+JOHN. Scathlock, no grace--your fellow and plain John.
+
+LIT. JOHN. I warrant you, Much will be here anon.
+
+JOHN. Think'st thou, Little John, that he must Jenny wed?
+
+LIT. JOHN. No doubt he must.
+
+JOHN. Then to adorn his head,
+We shall have horns good store.
+
+KING. God, for thy grace,
+How could I miss the stag I had in chase?
+Twice did I hit him in the very neck,
+When back my arrows flew, as they had smit
+On some sure armour. Where is Robin Hood
+And the wight[261] Scarlet? Seek them, Little John.
+                               [_Exit_ LITTLE JOHN.
+I'll have that stag, before I dine, to-day.
+
+    _Enter_ MUCH.
+
+MUCH. O, the Friar, the Friar, the Friar!
+
+KING. Why, how now, Much?
+
+MUCH. Cry ye mercy, Master King:[262] marry, this is the matter.
+Scarlet is following the stag you hit, and has almost lodged him: now,
+the Friar has the best bow but yours in all the field; which and
+Scarlet had, he would have him straight.
+
+KING. Where is thy master?
+
+MUCH. Nay, I cannot tell, nor the Friar neither.
+
+SCATH. I hear them halloo far off in the wood.
+
+KING. Come, Much, can'st lead us where as Scarlet is?
+
+MUCH. Never fear you: follow me.
+
+                                 [_Exeunt hallooing_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    _Enter_ SIR DONCASTER, PRIOR.
+
+DON. You were resolv'd to have him poisoned,
+Or kill'd, or made away, you car'd not how:
+What devil makes you doubtful now to do't?
+
+PRIOR. Why, Doncaster, his kindness in our needs.
+
+DON. A plague upon his kindness! let him die.
+I never temper'd poison in my life,
+But I employ'd it. By th'mass, and I lose this,
+For ever look to lose my company.
+
+PRIOR. But will you give it him?
+
+DON. That cannot be.
+The queen, Earl Chester, and Earl Salisbury,
+If they once see me, I am a dead man:
+Or did they hear my name, I'll lay my life,
+They all would hunt me for my life.
+
+PRIOR. What hast thou done to them?
+
+DON. Faith, some odd toys,
+That made me fly the south: but pass we them.
+Here is the poison; will you give it Robin?
+
+PRIOR. Now, by this gold, I will.
+
+DON. Or, as I said,
+For ever I'll defy your company.
+
+PRIOR. Well, he shall die, and in his jollity:
+And in my head I have a policy
+To make him die disgrac'd.
+
+DON. O, tell it, Prior!
+
+PRIOR. I will, but not as now;
+                  [_Call the_ FRIAR _within_.
+We'll seek a place: the woods have many ears,
+And some, methinks, are calling for the Friar.[263]
+
+    _Enter_ LITTLE JOHN _and_ SCATHLOCK, _calling the_
+    FRIAR, _as before_.
+
+LIT. JOHN. The Friar! the Friar!
+
+SCATH. Why, where's this Friar?
+
+    _Enter_ FRIAR TUCK.
+
+FRIAR. Here, sir: what is your desire?
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD _and_ WARMAN.[264]
+
+ROB. H. Why, Friar, what a murrain dost thou mean?
+The king calls for thee; for a mighty stag
+(That hath a copper-ring about his neck
+With letters on it, which he would have read)
+Hath Scarlet kill'd. I pray thee, go thy way.
+
+FRIAR. Master, I will: no longer will I stay.
+
+    [_Exit_ FRIAR TUCK, LITTLE JOHN, _and_ SCATHLOCK.
+
+ROB. H. Good uncle, be more careful of your health,
+And yours, Sir Doncaster; your wounds are green.
+
+BOTH. Through your great kindness we are comforted.
+
+ROB. H. And, Warman, I advise you to more mirth.
+Shun solitary walks, keep company:
+Forget your fault; I have forgiv'n the fault,
+Good Warman, be more blithe; and at this time
+A little help my Marian and her maid.
+Much shall come to you straight: a little now
+We must all strive to do the best we may.
+                         [_Exit winding_.[265]
+
+WAR. On you and her I'll wait until my dying day.
+
+    [WARMAN _is going out_; DONCASTER _pulls him_.
+
+DON. Warman, a word. My good Lord Prior and I
+Are full of grief to see thy misery.
+
+WAR. My misery, Sir Doncaster? why, I thank God,
+I never was in better state than now.
+
+PRIOR. Why, what a servile slavish mind hast thou!
+Art thou a man, and canst be such a beast,
+Ass-like to bear the burthen of thy wrongs?
+
+WAR. What wrong have I? is't wrong to be reliev'd?
+
+DON. Reliev'd, say'st thou? why, shallow-witted fool,
+Dost thou not see Robin's ambitious pride,
+And how he climbs by pitying, and aspires
+By humble looks, good deeds, and such fond toys,
+To be a monarch reigning over us,
+As if we were the vassals to his will?
+
+WAR. I am his vassal, and I will be still.
+
+PRIOR. Warman, thou art a fool. I do confess,
+Were these good deeds done in sincerity--
+Pity of mine, thine[266] or this knight's distress,
+Without vain brags--it were true charity:
+But to relieve our fainting bodies' wants,
+And grieve our souls with quips and bitter 'braids,
+Is good turns overturn'd: no thanks we owe
+To any whatsoever helps us so.
+
+WAR. Neither himself nor any that he keeps
+Ever upbraided me, since I came last.
+
+DON. O God, have mercy on thee, silly ass!
+Doth he not say to every guest that comes,
+This same is Warman, that was once my steward?
+
+WAR. And what of that?
+
+PRIOR. Is't not as much to say,
+Why, here he stands that once did me betray?
+
+DON. Did he not bring a troop to grace himself,
+Like captives waiting on a conqueror's chair,
+And calling of them out by one and one,
+Presented them, like fairings, to the king?[267]
+
+PRIOR. O, ay: there was a rare invention.
+A plague upon the fool!
+I hate him worse for that than all the rest.
+
+WAR. Why should you hate him? why should you--or you--
+Envy this noble lord thus, as you do?
+
+DON. Nay rather, why dost thou not join in hate
+With us, that lately liv'd, like us, in wealthy state?
+Remember this, remember, foolish man,
+How thou hast been the Shrieve of Nottingham.
+
+PRIOR. Cry to thy thoughts, let this thought never cease--
+"I have been justice of my sovereign's peace,
+Lord of fair livings; men with cap and knee
+In liveries waited hourly on me."
+
+DON. And when thou think'st thou hast been such and such,
+Think then what 'tis to be a mate to Much?
+To run when Robin bids, come at his call,
+Be Mistress Marian's man.
+
+PRIOR. Nay, think withal--
+
+WAR. What shall I think, but think upon my need,
+When men fed dogs, and me they would not feed?
+When I despair'd through want, and sought to die,
+My piteous master, of his charity,
+Forgave my fault, reliev'd and saved me.
+This do I think upon; and you should think
+(If you had hope of soul's salvation)--
+First, Prior, that he is of thy flesh and blood,
+That thou art uncle unto Robin Hood;
+That by extortion thou didst get his lands--
+God and I know how it came to thy hands:
+How thou pursued'st him in his misery,
+And how heaven plagued thy heart's extremity.
+Think, Doncaster, when, hired by this Prior,
+Thou cam'st to take my master with the Friar,
+And wert thyself ta'en; how he set thee free,
+Gave thee an hundred pound to comfort thee.
+And both bethink ye, how but yesterday
+Wounded and naked in the field you lay;
+How with his own hand he did raise your heads,
+Pour'd balm into your wounds, your bodies fed,
+Watch'd when ye slept, wept when he saw your woe--
+
+DON. Stay, Warman, stay! I grant that he did so;
+And you, turn'd honest, have forsworn the villain?
+
+WAR. Even from my soul I villany defy.
+
+PRIOR. A blessed hour; a fit time now to die.
+
+DON. And you shall, conscience.
+
+              [_Stabs him_, WARMAN _falls_.
+
+WAR. O, forgive me, God,
+And save my master from their bloody hands!
+
+PRIOR. What, hast thou made him sure?
+
+DON. It's dead--sure he is dead, if that be sure?
+
+PRIOR. Then let us thrust the dagger in his hand,
+And when the next comes, cry he kill'd himself.
+
+DON. That must be now: yonder comes Robin Hood.
+No life in him?
+
+PRIOR. No, no, not any life.
+Three mortal wounds have let in piercing air,
+And at their gaps his life is clean let out.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD.
+
+ROB. H. Who is it, uncle, that you so bemoan?
+
+PRIOR. Warman, good nephew, whom Sir Doncaster and I
+Found freshly bleeding, as he now doth lie.
+You were scarce gone, when he did stab himself.
+
+ROB. H. O God!
+He in his own hand holds his own heart's hurt:
+I dreaded, too, much his distressed look.
+Belike the wretch despair'd, and slew himself.
+
+DON. Nay. that's most sure: yet he had little reason,
+Considering how well you used him.
+
+ROB. H. Well, I am sorry, but must not be sad,
+Because the king is coming to my bower.
+Help me, I pray thee, to remove his body,
+Lest he should come and see him murdered.
+Some time anon he shall be buried.
+
+    [_Exeunt_ ROBIN HOOD _and_ SIR DONCASTER _with the body_.[268]
+
+PRIOR. Good! all is good! this is as I desire:
+Now for a face of pure hypocrisy.
+Sweet murder, clothe thee in religious weeds,
+Reign in my bosom, that with help of thee
+I may effect this Robin's tragedy.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD _and_ SIR DONCASTER.
+
+DON. Nay, nay, you must not take this thing so heavily.
+
+ROB. H. A body's loss, Sir Doncaster, is much;
+But a soul's too is more to be bemoan'd.
+
+PRIOR. Truly I wonder at your virtuous mind.
+O God, to one so kind who'd be unkind!
+Let go this grief: now must you put on joy,
+And for the many favours I have found,
+So much exceeding all conceit of mine,
+Unto your cheer I'll add a precious drink,
+Of colour rich and red, sent me from Rome,
+There's in it moly,[269] Syrian balsamum,
+Gold's rich elixir; O, 'tis precious!
+
+ROB. H. Where is it, uncle?
+
+PRIOR. As yesterday
+Sir Doncaster and I rid on our way,
+Thieves did beset us, bound us, as you saw,
+And among other things did take from me
+This rich confection: but regardlessly,
+As common drink, they cast into a bush
+The bottle, which this day Sir Doncaster
+Fetch'd, and hath left it in the inner lodging.
+I tell you, nephew (I do love you well).
+A pint of this ransom'd the Sophy's son
+When he was taken in Natolia.
+I meant, indeed, to give it my liege lord,
+In hope to have his favour; but to you
+I put myself: be my good friend,
+And, in your own restoring me restore.
+
+ROB. H. Uncle, I will; you need urge that no more.
+But what's the virtue of this precious drink?
+
+PRIOR. It keeps fresh youth, restores diseased sight,
+Helps nature's weakness, smooths the scars of wounds,
+And cools the entrails with a balmy breath,
+When they, by thirst or travail, boil with heat.
+
+ROB. H. Uncle, I thank you: pray you, let me have
+A cup prepared 'gainst the king comes in,
+To cool his heat: myself will give it him.
+
+PRIOR. And when he drinks, be bold to say, he drinks
+A richer draught than that dissolved pearl,
+Which Cleopatra drank to Antony.
+
+ROB. H. I have much business: let it be your charge
+To make this rich draught ready for the king,
+And I will quit it; pray ye, do not fail.
+                                     [_Exit_.
+
+PRIOR. I warrant you, good nephew.
+
+DON. Better and better still!
+We thought before but to have poison'd him,
+And now shall Robin Hood destroy the king.
+Even when the king, the queen, the prince, the lords,
+Joy in his virtues, this supposed vice
+Will turn to sharp hate their exceeding love.
+
+PRIOR. Ha, ha, ha! I cannot choose but laugh,
+To see my cousin cozen'd in this sort.
+Fail him, quoth you; nay, hang me if I do.
+But, Doncaster, art sure the poisons are well-mix'd?
+
+DON. Tut, tut! let me alone for the poisoning:
+I have already turn'd o'er four or five,
+That anger'd[270] me. But tell me, Prior,
+Wherefore so deadly dost thou hate thy cousin?
+
+PRIOR. Shall I be plain? because, if he were dead,
+I should be made the Earl of Huntington.
+
+DON. A pretty cause; but thou a churchman art.
+
+PRIOR. Tut, man, if that would fall,
+I'll have a dispensation, and turn temporal.
+But tell me, Doncaster, why dost thou hate him?
+
+DON. By the mass, I cannot tell. O yes, now I ha't:
+I hate thy cousin Earl of Huntington,
+Because so many love him as there do,
+And I myself am loved of so few.
+Nay, I have other reasons for my hate:
+He is a fool, and will be reconcil'd
+To any foe he hath: he is too mild,
+Too honest for this world, fitter for heaven.
+He will not kill these greedy cormorants,
+Nor strip base peasants of the wealth they have!
+He does abuse a thief's name and an outlaw's,
+And is, indeed, no outlaw nor no thief:
+He is unworthy of such reverend names.
+Besides, he keeps a paltry whimling[271] girl,
+And will not bed, forsooth, before he bride.
+I'll stand to't, he abuses maidenhead;
+That will not take it, being offered,
+Hinders the commonwealth of able men.
+Another thing I hate him for again:
+He says his prayers, fasts eves, gives alms, does good:
+For these and such like crimes swears Doncaster
+To work the speedy death of Robin Hood.
+
+PRIOR. Well-said, i' faith. Hark, hark! the
+king returns;
+To do this deed my heart like fuel burns.
+
+                                           [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Wind horns. Enter_ KING, QUEEN, JOHN, FITZWATER,
+    ELY, CHESTER, SALISBURY, LEICESTER, LITTLE JOHN,
+    FRIAR TUCK, SCARLET, SCATHLOCK, _and_ MUCH: FRIAR
+    TUCK _carrying a stag's head, dancing_.
+
+KING. Gramercy, Friar, for thy glee,
+Thou greatly hast contented me:
+What with thy sporting and thy game,
+I swear, I highly pleased am.
+
+FRIAR. It was my master's whole desire
+That maiden, yeoman, swain, and friar,
+Their arts and wits should all apply
+For pleasure of your majesty.
+
+QUEEN. Son Richard, look, I pray you, on the ring,
+That was about the neck of the last stag.
+
+CHES. Was his name Scarlet, that shot off his neck?
+
+JOHN. Chester, it was this honest fellow Scarlet:
+This is the fellow, and a yeoman bold
+As ever cours'd the swift hart on the mould.
+
+KING. Friar, here's somewhat 'graved upon the ring;
+I pray thee read it: meanwhile, list to me.
+
+    [_This while most compassing the_ FRIAR _about the ring_.
+
+Scarlet and Scathlock, you bold brethren,
+Twelvepence a day I give each for his fee;
+And henceforth see ye live like honest men.
+
+BOTH. We will, my liege, else let us die the death.
+
+MUCH. A boon, a boon, upon my knee,
+      Good King Richard, I beg of thee!
+For indeed, sir, the troth is, Much is my father, and he is one of your
+tenants, in King's Mill at Wakefield, all on a green:--
+      O there dwelleth a jolly pinder,
+      At Wakefield, all on a green.[272]
+Now I would have you, if you will do so much for me, to set me forward
+in the way of marriage to Jenny: the mill would not be cast away upon us.
+
+KING. Much, be thou ever master of that mill:
+I give it thee for thine inheritance.
+
+MUCH. Thanks, precious prince of courtesy.
+I'll to Jenny, and tell her of my lands, i'faith.
+                                          [_Exit_.
+
+JOHN. Here, Friar, here; here it begins.
+
+FRIAR (_reads_). "When Harold Harefoot reigned king,
+About my neck he put this ring."
+
+KING. In Harold's time? more than a hundred year
+Hath this ring been about this new-slain deer!
+I am sorry now it died; but let the same
+Head, ring and all, be sent to Nottingham,
+And in the castle kept for monument.[273]
+
+FITZ. My liege, I heard an old tale long ago,
+That Harold, being Godwin's son of Kent,[274]
+When he had got fair England's government,
+Hunted for pleasure once within this wood,
+And singled out a fair and stately stag,
+Which foot to foot the king in running caught:
+And sure this was the stag.
+
+KING. It was, no doubt.
+
+CHES. But some, my lord, affirm
+That Julius Caesar, many years before,
+Took such a stag, and such a poesy writ.
+
+KING. It should not be in Julius Caesar's time.
+There was no English used in this land
+Until the Saxons came; and this is writ
+In Saxon characters.
+
+JOHN. Well, 'twas a goodly beast.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD.
+
+KING. How now, Earl Robert?
+
+FRIAR. A forfeit, a forfeit, my liege lord!
+My master's laws are on record!
+The court-roll here your grace may see.
+
+KING. I pray thee, Friar, read it me.[275]
+
+FRIAR. One shall suffice, and this is he.
+No man, that cometh in this wood
+To feast or dwell with Robin Hood,
+Shall call him earl, lord, knight, or squire:
+He no such titles doth desire,
+But Robin Hood, plain Robin Hood,
+That honest yeoman stout and good,
+On pain of forfeiting a mark,
+That must be paid to me his clerk.
+My liege, my liege, this law you broke,
+Almost in the last word you spoke:
+That crime may not acquitted be,
+Till Friar Tuck receive his fee.
+
+KING. There's more than twenty marks, mad Friar.
+                              [_Casts him purse_.
+
+FRIAR. If thus you pay the clerk his hire,
+Oft may you forfeit, I desire.
+You are a perfect penitent,
+And well you do your wrong repent:
+For this your highness' liberal gift
+I here absolve you without shrift.
+
+KING. Gramercies, Friar. Now, Robin Hood,
+Sith Robin Hood it needs must be,
+I was about to ask before,
+If thou didst see the great stag's fall.
+
+ROB. H. I did, my lord, I saw it all;
+But missing this same prating friar,
+And hearing you so much desire
+To have the losel's company,
+I went to seek Small-Honesty.
+
+FRIAR. But you found Much, when you found me.
+
+ROB. H. Ay, Much my man; but not a jot
+Of honesty in thee, God wot.
+
+QUEEN. Robin, you do abuse the Friar.
+
+FRIAR. Madam, I dare not call him liar:
+He may be bold with me, he knows.
+How now, Prince John, how goes, how goes
+This woodman's life with you to-day?
+My fellow Woodnet you would be.
+
+JOHN. I am thy fellow, thou dost see;
+And to be plain, as God me save,
+So well I like thee, merry knave,
+That I thy company must have:
+Nay, and I will.
+
+FRIAR. Nay, and you shall.
+
+ROB. H. My lord, you need not fear at all,
+But you shall have his company:
+He will be bold, I warrant you.
+
+KING. Know you, where-e'er a spring is nigh?
+Fain would I drink, I am right dry.
+
+ROB. H. I have a drink within my bower
+Of pleasant taste and sovereign power:
+My reverend uncle gives it me,
+To give unto your majesty.
+
+KING. I would be loth, indeed, being in heat
+To drink cold water. Let us to thy bower.
+
+ROB. H. Run, Friar, before,
+And bid my uncle be in readiness.
+
+FRIAR. Gone in a trice[276] on such good business.
+
+                                  [_Exeunt omnes_.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.[277]
+
+
+    _Enter_ MARIAN, _with a white apron_.
+
+MAR. What, Much! What, Jenny! Much, I say!
+
+MUCH. What's the matter, mistress?
+
+MAR. I pray thee, see the fueller
+Suffer the cook to want no wood.
+Good Lord, where is this idle girl?
+Why, Jenny!
+
+JENNY (_within_). I come, forsooth.
+
+MAR. I pray thee, bring the flowers forth.
+
+MUCH. I'll go send her, mistress, and help the cooks, if they have
+any need.
+
+MAR. Despatch, good Much. What, Jen, I say!
+
+    _Enter_ JENNY.
+
+MUCH. Hie ye, hie ye! she calls for life.    [_Exit_ MUCH.
+
+MAR. Indeed, indeed, you do me wrong,
+To let me cry, and call so long.
+
+JEN. Forsooth, I straw'd[278] the dining bowers,
+And smooth'd the walks with herbs and flowers.
+The yeomen's tables I have spread,
+Dress'd salts, laid trenchers, set on bread.
+Nay, all is well, I warrant you.
+
+MAR. You are not well, I promise you,
+Your 'foresleeves are not pinn'd; fie, fie!
+And all your head-gear stands awry.
+Give me the flowers. Go in, for shame,
+And quickly see you mend the same.
+
+                             [_Exit_ JENNY.
+
+    _Enter_ SIR DONCASTER, PRIOR. MARIAN _strewing flowers_.
+
+DON. How busy Mistress Marian is!
+She thinks this is her day of bliss.
+
+PRIOR. But it shall be the wofull'st day
+That ever chanc'd her, if I may.
+
+MAR. Why are you two thus in the air?
+Your wounds are green. Good coz, have care.
+
+PRIOR. Thanks for your kindness, gentle maid:
+My cousin Robert us hath prayed
+To help him in his business.
+
+    _Enter_ FRIAR.
+
+FRIAR. Sir Doncaster, Sir Doncaster!
+
+DON. Holla!
+
+FRIAR. I pray you, did you see the Prior?
+
+PRIOR. Why, here I am. What wouldst thou. Friar?
+
+FRIAR. The king is heated in the chase,
+And posteth hitherward apace.
+He told my master he was dry,
+And he desires ye presently
+To send the drink whereof ye spake.
+
+PRIOR. Come, it is here: haste let us make.
+
+          [_Exeunt_ DONCASTER, PRIOR, _and_ FRIAR.
+
+          _Horns blow.
+
+    Enter_ KING, QUEEN, JOHN, SCARLET, SCATHLOCK,
+    ELY, FITZWATER, SALISBURY, CHESTER.
+
+          MARIAN _kneels down_.
+
+MAR. Most gracious sovereign, welcome once again:
+Welcome to you and all your princely train.
+
+KING. Thanks, lovely hostess; we are homely guests.
+Where's Robin Hood? he promis'd me some drink.
+
+MAR. Your handmaid, Robin, will not then be long:
+The Friar, indeed, came running to his uncle,
+Who, with Sir Doncaster, were here with me,
+And all together went for such a drink.
+
+KING. Well, in a better time it could not come,
+For I am very hot and passing dry.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD, _with a cup, a towel, leading_
+    DONCASTER: TUCK _and_ MUCH _pulling the_ PRIOR.
+
+ROB. H. Traitor! I'll draw thee out before the king.
+
+FRIAR. Come, murderous Prior.
+
+MUCH. Come, ye dog's face.
+
+KING. Why, how now, Robin? Where's the drink you bring?
+
+ROB. H. Lay hold on these!
+Far be it I should bring your majesty
+The drink these two prepared for your taste.
+
+KING. Why, Robin Hood? be brief and answer me.
+I am amazed at thy troubled looks.
+
+ROB. H. Long will not my ill-looks amaze your grace;
+I shortly look never to look again.
+
+MAR. Never to look! What, will it still be night?
+If thou look never, day can never be.
+What ails my Robin? Wherefore dost thou faint?
+
+ROB. H. Because I cannot stand: yet now I can.
+             [KING _and_ MARIAN _support him_.
+Thanks to my king, and thanks to Marian.
+
+KING. Robin, be brief, and tell us what hath chanc'd.
+
+ROB. H. I must be brief, for I am sure of death,
+Before a long tale can be half-way told.
+
+FITZ. Of death, my son! bright sun of all my joy!
+Death cannot have the power of[279] virtuous life.
+
+ROB. H. Not o'er[280] the virtues, but the life it can.
+
+KING. What, dost thou speak of death? how shouldst thou die?
+
+ROB. H. By poison and the Prior's treachery.
+
+QUEEN. Why, take this sovereign powder at my hands:
+Take it, and live in spite of poison's power.
+
+DON. Ay, set him forward. Powders, quoth ye? hah!
+I am a fool, then, if a little dust,
+The shaving of a horn, a Bezoar stone,[281]
+Or any antidote have power to stay
+The execution of my heart's resolve.
+Tut, tut! you labour, lovely queen, in vain,
+And on a thankless groom your toil bestow.
+Now hath your foe reveng'd you of your foe:
+Robin shall die, if all the world said no.[282]
+
+MAR. How the wolf howls! Fly, like a tender kid,
+Into thy shepherd's bosom. Shield me, love!
+Canst thou not, Robin? Where shall I be hid?
+O God! these ravens will seize upon thy dove.
+
+ROB. H. They cannot hurt thee; pray thee, do not fear:
+Base curs will couch, the lion being near.
+
+QUEEN. How works my powder?
+
+ROB. H. Very well, fair queen.
+
+KING. Dost thou feel any ease?
+
+ROB. H. I shall, I trust, anon:
+Sleep falls upon mine eyes. O, I must sleep,
+And they that love me, do not waken me.
+
+MAR. Sleep in my lap, and I will sing to thee.
+
+JOHN. He should not sleep.
+
+ROB. H. I must, for I must die;
+While I live, therefore, let me have some rest.
+
+FITZ. Ay, let him rest: the poison urges sleep.
+When he awakes, there is no hope of life.
+
+DON. Of life! Now, by the little time I have to live,
+He cannot live one hour for your lives.
+
+KING. Villain! what art thou?
+
+DON. Why, I am a knight.
+
+CHES. Thou wert indeed. If it so please your grace,
+I will describe my knowledge of this wretch.
+
+KING. Do, Chester.
+
+CHES. This Doncaster, for so the felon hight,
+Was by the king, your father, made a knight,
+And well in arms he did himself behave.
+Many a bitter storm the wind of rage
+Blasted this realm within those woful days,
+When the unnatural fights continued
+Between your kingly father and his sons.
+This cutthroat, knighted in that time of woe,
+Seized on a beauteous nun at Berkhamstead,
+As we were marching toward Winchester,
+After proud Lincoln was compell'd to yield.
+He took this virgin straying in the field--
+For all the nuns and every covent[283] fled
+The dangers that attended on our troops:
+For those sad times too oft did testify,
+War's rage hath no regard to piety--
+She humbly pray'd him, for the love of heaven,
+To guide her to her father's, two miles thence:
+He swore he would, and very well he might,
+For to the camp he was a forager.
+Upon the way they came into a wood,
+Wherein, in brief, he stripp'd this tender maid:
+Whose lust, when she in vain had long withstood,
+Being by strength and torments overlaid,
+He did a sacrilegious deed of rape,
+And left her bathed in her own tears and blood.
+When she reviv'd, she to her father's got,
+And got her father to make just complaint
+Unto your mother, being then in camp.
+
+QUEEN. Is this the villain, Chester, that defil'd
+Sir Eustace Stutville's chaste and beauteous child?
+
+DON. Ay, madam, this is he
+That made a wench dance naked in a wood;
+And, for she did deny what I desired,
+I scourg'd her for her pride, till her fair skin
+With stripes was checquer'd like a vintner's grate.[284]
+And what was this? A mighty matter, sure!
+I have a thousand more than she defil'd,
+And cut the squeaking throats of some of them--
+I grieve I did not hers.
+
+QUEEN. Punish him, Richard.
+A fairer virgin never saw the sun;
+A chaster maid was never sworn a nun.
+
+KING. How 'scaped the villain punishment that time?
+
+FITZ. I rent his spurs off, and disgraded him.
+
+CHES. And then he rail'd upon the Queen and me.
+Being committed, he his keeper slew,
+And to your father fled, who pardon'd him.
+
+RICH. God give his soul a pardon for that sin.
+
+SAL. O, had I heard his name or seen his face,
+I had defended Robin from this chance!
+Ah, villain! shut those gloomy lights of thine.
+Remember'st thou a little son of mine,
+Whose nurse at Wilton first thou ravishedst,
+And slew'st two maids that did attend on them?
+
+DON. I grant I dash'd the brains out of a brat--
+Thine if he were, I care not: had he been
+The first-born comfort of a royal king,
+And should have yall'd, when Doncaster cried peace,
+I would have done by him as then I did.
+
+KING. Soon shall the world be rid of such a wretch.
+Let him be hang'd alive in the highway
+That joineth to the tower.[285]
+
+DON. Alive or dead (I reck not how I die),
+You, them, and these I desperately defy.
+
+ELY. Repent, or never look to be absolv'd;
+But die accurs'd, as thou deservest well.
+
+DON. Then give me my desert: curse, one by one!
+
+ELY. First I accurse thee; and if thou persist,
+Unto damnation leave thee, wretched man.
+
+DON. What do I care for your damnation?
+Am I not doomed to death? what more damnation
+Can there ensue your loud and yelling cries?
+
+PRIOR. Yes, devil! hear thy fellow-spirit speak--
+Who would repent; O, fain he would repent!--
+After this body's bitter punishment,
+There is an ever-during endless woe,
+A quenchless fire, an unconsuming pain,
+Which desperate souls and bodies must endure.
+
+DON. Can you preach this, yet set me on, Sir Prior,
+To run into this endless, quenchless fire?
+
+PRIOR. High heavens, show mercy to my many ills!
+Never had this been done, but like a fiend
+Thou temptedst me with ceaseless devilish thoughts.
+Therefore I curse with bitterness of soul
+The hour wherein I saw thy baleful eyes.
+My eyes I curse for looking on those eyes!
+My ears I curse for hearkening to thy tongue!
+I curse thy tongue for tempting of mine ears!
+Each part I curse, that we call thine or mine;
+Thine for enticing mine, mine following thine!
+
+DON. A holy prayer. What collect have we next?
+
+                    [_This time_ ROBIN _stirs_.
+
+FITZ. My Marian wanteth words, such is her woe;
+But old Fitzwater, for his girl and him,
+Begs nothing but world's plague for such a foe,
+Which causeless harm'd a virtuous nobleman,
+A pitier of his griefs, when he felt grief.
+Therefore, bethink thee of thy hateful deed,
+Thou faithless Prior, and thou this ruthless thief.
+
+PRIOR. Will no man curse me, giving so much cause?
+Then, Doncaster, ourselves ourselves accurse,
+And let no good betide to thee or me!
+
+      [_All the Yeomen_, FRIAR, MUCH, JENNY _cry_.
+
+ALL. Amen, amen! accursed may he be
+For murdering Robin, flower of courtesy.
+
+                                 [ROBIN _sits up_.
+
+ROB. H. O, ring not such a peal for Robin's death!
+Let sweet forgiveness be my passing bell.
+Art thou there, Marian? then fly forth, my breath:
+To die within thy arms contents me well.
+
+PRIOR. Keep in, keep in a little while thy soul,
+Till I have pour'd my soul forth at thy feet.
+
+ROB. H. I slept not, uncle; I your grief did hear,
+Let him forgive thy soul that bought it dear:
+Your body's deed I in my death forgive,
+And humbly beg the king that you may live.
+Stand to your clergy, uncle;[286] save your life,
+And lead a better life than you have done.
+
+PRIOR. O, gentle nephew! O, my brother's son,
+Thou dying glory of old Huntington!
+Wishest thou life to such a murderous foe?
+I will not live, since thou must life forego.
+O, happy Warman! blessed in thy end;
+Now too-too late thy truth I do commend.
+O, nephew, nephew! Doncaster and I
+Murder'd poor Warman, for he did deny
+To join with us in this black tragedy.
+
+ROB. H. Alas, poor Warman! Friar, Little John,
+I told ye both where Warman's body lay,
+And of his burial I'll dispose anon.
+
+KING. Is there no law, Lord Ely, to convict
+This Prior, that confesses murders thus?
+
+ELY. He is a hallow'd man, and must be tried
+And punish'd by the censure of the church.
+
+PRIOR. The church therein doth err: God doth allow
+No canon to preserve a murderer's life.
+Richard! King Richard! in thy grandsire's days
+A law was made, the clergy sworn thereto,
+That whatsoever churchman did commit
+Treason or murder, or false felony,
+Should like a secular be punished.
+Treason we did, for sure we did intend
+King Richard's poisoning, sovereign of this land.
+Murder we did, in working Warman's end
+And my dear nephew's by this fatal hand:
+And theft we did, for we have robb'd the king,
+The state, the nobles, commons, and his men,
+Of a true peer, firm pillar, liberal lord.
+Fitzwater we have robbed of a kind son,
+And Marian's love-joys we have quite undone.
+
+DON. Whoop! what a coil is here with your confession!
+
+PRIOR. I ask but judgment for my foul transgression.
+
+KING. Thy own mouth hath condemn'd thee.
+Hence with him!
+Hang this man dead, then see him buried;
+But let the other hang alive in chains.
+
+DON. I thank you, sir.
+
+        [_Exeunt Yeomen_, FRIAR, _Prisoners_, MUCH.
+
+JOHN. Myself will go, my lord,
+And see sharp justice done upon these slaves.
+
+ROB. H. O, go not hence, Prince John! a word or two,
+Before I die, I fain would say to you.
+
+KING. Robin, we see what we are sad to see--
+Death, like a champion, treading down thy life:
+Yet in thy end, somewhat to comfort thee,
+We freely give to thy betrothed wife,
+Beauteous and chaste Matilda, all those lands,
+Fallen by thy folly to the Prior's hands,
+And by his fault now forfeited to me.
+Earl Huntington, she shall thy countess be:
+And thy wight yeomen, they shall wend with me
+Against the faithless enemies of Christ.
+
+ROB. H. Bring forth a bier, and cover it with green;
+That on my deathbed I may here sit down.
+                   [_A bier is brought in. He sits_.
+At Robin's burial let no black be seen,
+Let no hand give for him a mourning gown;
+For in his death his king hath given him life
+By this large gift, given to his maiden wife.
+Chaste maid Matilda, countess of account,
+Chase with thy bright eyes all these clouds of woe
+From these fair cheeks; I pray thee, sweet, do so:
+Think it is bootless folly to complain
+For that which never can be had again.
+Queen Elinor, you once were Matilda's foe;
+Prince John, you long sought her unlawful love:
+Let dying Robin Hood entreat you both
+To change those passions: madam, turn your hate
+To princely love: Prince John, convert your love
+To virtuous passion, chaste and moderate.
+O, that your gracious right hands would enfold
+Matilda's right hand, prison'd in my palm,
+And swear to do what Robin Hood desires!
+
+QUEEN. I swear I will: I will a mother be
+To fair Matilda's life and chastity.
+
+JOHN. When John solicits chaste Matilda's ears
+With lawless suits, as he hath often done,
+Or offers to the altars of her eyes
+Lascivious poems, stuff'd with vanities,
+He craves to see but short and sour days:
+His death be like to Robin's he desires;
+His perjured body prove a poison'd prey
+For cowled monks and barefoot begging friars.
+
+ROB. H. Enough, enough! Fitzwater, take your child.
+My dying frost, which no sun's heat can thaw,
+Closes the powers of all my outward parts:
+My freezing blood runs back unto my heart,
+Where it assists death, which it would resist:
+Only my love a little hinders death,
+For he beholds her eyes, and cannot smite:
+Then go not yet, Matilda, stay awhile.
+Friar, make speed, and list my latest will.
+
+MAT. O, let me look for ever in thy eyes,
+And lay my warm breath to thy bloodless lips,
+If my sight can restrain death's tyrannies,
+Or keep life's breath within thy bosom lock'd.
+
+ROB. H. Away, away!
+Forbear, my love; all this is but delay.
+
+FITZ. Come, maiden daughter, from my maiden son,
+And give him leave to do what must be done.
+
+ROB. H. First, I bequeath my soul to all souls Sav'our,
+And will my body to be buried
+At Wakefield, underneath the abbey wall;
+And in this order make my funeral.
+When I am dead, stretch me upon this bier!
+My beads and primer shall my pillow be;
+On this side be my bow, my good shafts here;
+Upon my breast the cross, and underneath
+My trusty sword, thus fasten'd in the sheath.
+Let Warman's body at my feet be laid,
+Poor Warman, that in my defence did die.
+For holy dirges sing me woodmen's songs,
+As ye to Wakefield walk with voices shrill.
+This for myself. My goods and plate I give
+Among my yeomen: them I do bestow
+Upon my sovereign Richard. This is all.
+My liege, farewell! my love, farewell, farewell!
+Farewell, fair Queen, Prince John, and noble lords!
+Father Fitzwater, heartily adieu!
+Adieu, my yeomen tall. Matilda, close mine eyes.
+Friar, farewell! farewell to all!
+
+MAT. O, must my hands with envious death conspire
+To shut the morning gates of my life's light!
+
+FITZ. It is a duty and thy love's desire!
+I'll help thee, girl, to close up Robin's sight.[287]
+
+KING. Laments are bootless, tears cannot restore
+Lost life, Matilda; therefore weep no more:
+And since our mirth is turned into moan,
+Our merry sport to tragic funeral,
+We will prepare our power for Austria,
+After Earl Robert's timeless burial.
+Fall to your wood-songs, therefore, yeomen bold.
+And deck his hearse with flowers, that loved you dear:
+Dispose his goods as he hath them dispos'd.
+Fitzwater and Matilda, bide you here.
+See you the body unto Wakefield borne:
+A little we will bear ye company,
+But all of us at London 'point to meet:
+Thither, Fitzwater, bring Earl Robin's men;
+And, Friar, see you come along with them.
+
+FRIAR. Ah, my liege lord! the Friar faints,
+And hath no words to make complaints:
+But since he must forsake this place,
+He will await, and thanks your grace.
+
+    _Song.
+
+    Weep, weep, ye woodmen, wail,
+    Your hands with sorrow wring;
+    Your master Robin Hood lies dead,
+    Therefore sigh as you sing.
+
+    Here lie his primer and his beads,
+    His bent bow and his arrows keen,
+    His good sword and his holy cross:
+    Now cast on flowers fresh and green;
+
+    And as they fall, shed tears and say,
+    Wella, wella-day! wella, wella-day:
+    Thus cast ye flowers and sing,
+    And on to Wakefield take your way_.
+
+                                         [_Exeunt_.
+
+FRIAR. Here doth the Friar leave with grievance;
+Robin is dead, that graced his entrance,
+And being dead, he craves his audience
+With this short play they would have patience.[288]
+
+    _Enter_ CHESTER.
+
+CHES. Nay, Friar, at the request of thy kind friend,
+Let not thy play too soon be at an end.
+Though Robin Hood be dead, his yeomen gone,
+And that thou think'st there now remains not one
+To act another scene or two for thee,
+Yet know full well, to please this company,
+We mean to end Matilda's tragedy.
+
+FRIAR. Off then, I wish you, with your Kendal green;
+Let not sad grief in fresh array be seen.
+Matilda's story is replete with tears,
+Wrongs, desolations, ruins, deadly fears.
+In, and attire ye. Though I tired be,
+Yet will I tell my mistress' tragedy.
+Apollo's masterdom[289] I invocate,
+To whom henceforth my deeds I dedicate;
+That of his godhead, 'bove all gods divine,
+With his rich spirit he would lighten mine:
+That I may sing true lays of trothless deeds,
+Which to conceive my heart through sorrow bleeds,
+Cheer thee, sad soul, and in a lofty line
+Thunder out wrong, compass'd in cloudy tears:
+
+    [_Enter in black_.[290]
+
+Show to the eyes, fill the beholders' ears,
+With all the lively acts of lustful rage,
+Restrain'd by modest tears and chastity's intreats:
+And let King John, that ill-part[291] personage,
+By suits, devices, practices, and threats,
+And when he sees all serveth to no end,
+Of chaste Matilda let him make an end.
+
+CHO. We are all fitted, Friar: shall we begin?
+
+FRIAR. Well art thou suited: would my order would
+Permit me habit equal to my heart!
+
+CHO. If you remember, John did take an oath
+Never again to seek Matilda's love.
+
+FRIAR. O, what is he, that's sworn affection's slave,
+That will not violate all laws, all oaths?
+And, being mighty, what will he omit
+To compass his intents, though ne'er so ill?--
+You must suppose King Richard now is dead,
+And John, resistless, is fair England's lord
+Who, striving to forget Matilda's love,
+Takes to his wife the beauteous Isabel,
+Betroth'd to Hugh le Brun, Earl of North-March:[292]
+And picking quarrels under show of kin,
+Wholly divorces his first queen away.
+But yet Matilda still-still troubles him,
+And being in the court, so oft he courts her,
+That by her noble father, old Fitzwater,
+She is remov'd from his lust-tempting eye.
+But tides restrain'd o'erswell their bounds with rage:
+Her absence adds more fuel to his fire.
+In sleep he sees her, and his waking thoughts
+Study by day to compass his desire.
+
+CHO. Friar, since now you speak of visions,
+It was received by tradition
+From those that were right near unto King John,
+Of three strange visions that to him appear'd;
+And, as I guess, I told you what they were.
+
+FRIAR. With them I will begin. Draw but that veil,
+And there King John sits sleeping in his chair.
+
+    [_Draw the curtain: the king sits sleeping, his sword
+    by his side. Enter Austria, before whom cometh Ambition,
+    and bringing him before the chair, King John in sleep
+    maketh signs to avoid, and holdeth his own crown fast
+    with both his hands_.
+
+FRIAR. Ambition, that had ever waited on King John,
+Now brings him Austria, easy to be ta'en,
+Being wholly tam'd by Richard's warlike hand.
+And bids him add that dukedom to his crown:
+But he puts by Ambition, and contemns
+All other kingdoms but the English crown,
+Which he holds fast, as if he would not loose[293].
+
+    [_Enter Constance, leading Young Arthur: both
+    offer to take the crown; but with his foot he
+    overturneth them: to them cometh Insurrection,
+    led by the F.K. and L.[294] menacing him, and
+    leads the child again to the chair; but he only
+    layeth hand on his sword, and with his foot
+    overthroweth the child, whom they take up as
+    dead; and, Insurrection flying, they mournfully
+    bear in the body_.
+
+FRIAR. The lady and the child that did ascend,
+Striving in vain to take the crown from John,
+Were Constance and her son the Duke of Britain,
+Heir to the elder brother of the king:
+Yet he sleeps on, and with a little spurn
+The mother and the prince doth overturn.
+Again, when Insurrection them assists,
+Stirr'd by the French king and the wronged earl,
+Whose troth-plight wife King John had ta'en to wife,
+He only claps his hand upon his sword,
+Mocketh their threatenings, and in their attempts
+The harmless prince receives recureless death,
+Whom they too late with bootless tears lament.
+
+    [_Enter Queen with two Children, borne after her:
+    she ascends, and seeing no motion, she fetcheth her
+    children one by one; but seeing yet no motion, she
+    descendeth, wringing her hands, and departeth. Enter
+    Matilda in a mourning veil, reading on a book, at whose
+    coming he starteth, and sitteth upright; as she passeth
+    by, he smiles, and folds his arms as if he did embrace
+    her: being gone, he starts suddenly, and speaks_.
+
+KING. Matilda! stay, Matilda, do but speak!
+Who's there? Entreat Matilda to come back.
+
+    _Enter_ BONVILLE[295].
+
+BON. Who would you have, my lord?
+
+KING. Why, my Lord Bonville, I would have Matilda,
+That but even now pass'd by toward the door.
+
+BON. I saw her not, my lord.
+
+KING. Hadst thou a lover's eye,
+A gnat, a mote, a shadow thou wouldst spy.
+Come, follow me; she cannot be so far,
+But I shall overtake her: come away!
+                                        [_Exeunt_.
+
+FRIAR. The last appearance shadow'd the fair queen
+And her two children, at whose sight King John
+Shewed neither sign nor show of passion:
+But when the sun came masked in a cloud,
+And veiled beauty, join'd with chastity,
+Appeared in Matilda's lovely shape,
+He starts, he clasps, he wakes, he calls, he seeks
+The shadow of that substance he affects.
+To her he sues, but she his suit rejects;
+To him she sues, but he her suit neglects:
+He sues to be her love; she doth despise:
+She sues to live a maid, which he denies.
+What follows of this wilfull will and shall,
+This no and nay, this quenchless, bootless fire,
+This cold affection and this hot desire,
+The act itself shall tell; and the poor friar
+Your partial favours humbly doth require.
+                                          [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT II., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Sound trumpets. Enter_ KING, BONVILLE, SALISBURY, LORDS.[296]
+
+KING. Now I perceive this only was a dream.
+Divine Matilda's angel did appear,
+Deck'd like a vestal ready for heaven's quire,
+And to this earthly trunk will not come near.
+Well, let her go: I must, i' faith, I must,
+And so I will. Kings' thoughts should be divine;
+So are Matilda's, so henceforth shall mine.
+
+OLD AUB. So doing, peace shall wait upon your crown,
+And blessing upon blessing shall befall.
+
+KING. It's true, my lord: I know full well there shall.
+
+SAL. Your people will wax proud of such a king,
+That of himself is king, lord of his thoughts;
+Which by assertion of philosophers
+Is held to be the greatest empery.
+
+KING. And they said wisely, noble Aubery.
+
+SAL. Then will Fitzwater, with his gallant troop[297],
+Again keep triumph[298] in the English court;
+Then will Matilda--
+
+KING. Matilda! what of her?
+
+SAL. Like a bright star adorn the lovely train
+Of beauteous ladies which attend the queen,
+Whose only beauty equalleth them all.
+
+KING. Like an old fool, whose dim eyes, wanting sight,
+Compar'st the sun to common candle light?
+
+SAL. Pardon, my liege, I do confess her fair[299]
+Exceeds all these as far as day doth night.
+
+KING. Grossly alluded: night by moon, by stars
+By wandering fires, exhaled meteors,
+By artificial lights, by eyes of beasts,
+And little glow-worms glimpsing in the dark,
+Hath somewhere brightness, lightness; and sometime
+Under each horizon in all parts clear:
+But they at no time nowhere can be said
+To be less dark than dungeon darkness is:
+Pitch-colour'd, ebon-fac'd, blacker than black,
+While her fair eyes give beauty to bright day.
+
+SAL. To hear the queen thus prais'd works my content.
+
+KING. The queen!
+O, had I such a thought, I would repent.    [_To himself_.
+
+SAL. Further, my lord--
+
+KING. What, shall we further wade?
+I fear I shall be tired with this jade.
+
+SAL. The commonwealth will flourish and increase.
+
+KING. Good Salisbury,[300] of those things now hold your peace,
+And take the pains to fetch in Isabel.
+I have strange tidings sent me out of France,
+Which she will take, I know, in as good part,
+As I accept her praise. Fetch her, I say.
+                           [_Exit_ SALISBURY.
+What, is the old fool gone? now go thy way.
+What think'st thou of him, Hubert? tell me, man.
+
+HUB. As of a good old gentleman, my lord,
+That speaks but what he thinks, and thinks you think
+As he doth; and, I warrant you,
+Will not conceal those praises from the queen
+Which, as he deems, you utter'd in her praise.
+
+KING. I would have them believe it so, indeed;
+But I protest 'tis no part of my creed.    [_Aside_.
+
+HUB. I'faith, your grace did Salisbury's years great wrong,
+To curtail his good work, that seem'd so long:
+He, peradventure, would have brought in more,
+After his preface, to rich plenty's store.
+Perchance he would have show'd Dame Vanity,
+That in your court is suffered hourly;
+And bade you punish ruffians with long hair,
+New fashions, and such toys. A special care
+Has that good man: he turns the statute-book;
+About his hall and chambers if you look,
+The moral virtues in fair effigy
+Are lively painted: moral philosophy
+Has not a sentence, be it great or small,
+But it is painted on his honour's wall.
+
+    _Enter_ QUEEN _and_ SALISBURY.
+
+KING. Peace, peace! he comes: now let's be silent all.
+
+SAL. I tell you, I was proud of his good words.
+
+QUEEN. God hold them, Salisbury, for it's often seen,
+A reconciled foe small good affords.
+
+SAL. O, forbear! trust me.
+I gage my honour he doth hold you dear.
+
+KING. How cheer you, Isabel? The earl your spouse
+Hath sent defiance to the king your husband,
+And, like a tried tall soldier, fled his holds
+In Marchland, where he knows, despite of him
+And all the men that he therein can raise,
+King John could have sent dogs enou' to tear
+Their ill-arm'd bodies piecemeal, ere his bands
+Should with base blood have stain'd their noble hands.
+And whither is this worshipful good earl
+(This first love, old love, new love, if you will)
+Gone, thinks your ladyship? forsooth, good man,
+To Normandy; and there he stirs up coals,
+And urgeth strong aid for confederates
+Who, as he says, are treacherously disposed.
+
+QUEEN. If he do so, the greater is his sin.
+Poor man. I have no interest in him.
+
+KING. But he hath had in you, as it should seem,
+Else would he not make sonnets of your brow,
+Your eye, your lip, your hand, your thigh.
+A plague upon him! how came he so nigh?
+Nay, now you have the curs'd quean's counterfeit:
+Through rage you shake, because you cannot rave.
+But answer me: why should the bedlam slave
+Entitle a whole poem to your kiss,
+Calling it cherry, ruby, this and this?
+I tell you, I am jealous of your love,
+Which makes me break into this passion.
+Here's the kind noble Aubery de Vere
+Knows what I speak is true.
+My lord, my lord! I do appeal to you,
+Are these things to be borne?
+
+SAL. No, by the rood:
+These love-rhymes are the tokens of small good.
+
+HUB. Why, my good lord, was never poetry
+Offer'd unto a lady's patronage?
+
+SAL. Yes, but not taken[301].
+
+HUB. Yes, and taken too.
+Though moody[302] slaves, whose balladising rhymes
+With words unpolish'd show their brutish thoughts,
+Naming their maukins[303] in each lustful line,
+Let no celestial beauty look awry,
+When well-writ poems, couching her rich praise,
+Are offer'd to her unstain'd, virtuous eye:
+For poetry's high-sprighted sons will raise
+True beauty to all wish'd eternity.
+Therefore, my lord, your age is much to blame
+To think a taken poem lady's shame.
+
+SAL. You see the king, that's better read than you,
+And far more wrong'd than I, takes it not well.
+
+KING. Yes, but I do: I think not Isabel
+The worse for any writing of Le Brun's.[304]
+
+SAL. Will you ha' the truth, my lord, I think so too;
+And though I be an old man, by my sword,
+My arm shall justify my constant word.
+
+QUEEN. After a long storm in a troublous sea,
+The pilot is no gladder of a calm,
+Than Isabel to see the vexed looks
+Of her lov'd lord chang'd into sweet aspects.
+
+KING. I will not tell thee what a world of foes
+For thy love (dear love) rise against my life.
+Matilda's love, few swords will fight for thee.    [_To himself_.
+I will not number up the many woes
+That shall be multiplied: strife upon strife
+Will follow; but to shun ensuing ills,
+I'll take such pledges as shall please me ask
+Of each proud baron dwelling in the realm.
+Bruce, kinsman and the deputy to March,
+Hath a high-minded lady to his wife,
+An able son for arms, and a less boy,
+That is the comfort of his father's life.
+Madam, I know you love the lady well,
+And of her wealth you may be bold to build[305],
+By sending you four hundred white milch kine,
+And ten like-colour'd bulls to serve that herd;
+So fair, that every cow did Iö seem,
+And every bull Europa's ravisher.
+To friend myself with such a subject's truth,
+Thus I command: you and Earl Salisbury
+Shall, with what speed conveniently ye may,
+Hie ye to Guildford: there the lady lies,
+And her sons too, as I am told by spies.
+All that she hath, I know, she calleth yours;
+All that she hath I gladly would call mine,
+If she abuse ye; if she use ye well,
+For ever be what she retains her own.
+Only go by, as queens in progress do,
+And send me word how she receiveth you.
+
+QUEEN. Well, I avouch, she will, before I go:
+Far be it John should prove Lord Bruce's foe.
+Come, noble Salisbury, I long to be at Guildford.
+
+SAL. In such a business, madam, so do I.
+
+                                        [_Exeunt_.
+
+KING. Go on, good stales[306]: now Guildford is mine own!    [_Aside_.]
+Hubert, I charge you take an hundred horse,
+And follow unto Guildford castle-gates.
+The queen pretend you come to tend upon,
+Sent carefully from us: when you are in,
+Boldly demand the lady for her sons,
+For pledges of her husband's faith and hers:
+Whom when ye have, upon the castle seize,
+And keep it to our use, until we come.
+Meanwhile let me alone with Hugh your son,
+To work a wonder, if no prodigy;
+But whatsoe'er, it shall attempted be.
+
+HUB. Even that which to your majesty
+May seem contentful, thereto I agree.
+
+KING. Go then to Guildford, and a victor be,    [_Exit_ HUBERT.
+Mowbray, our masque: are you and Chester ready?
+
+MOW. We will before your grace, I warrant you.
+
+KING. How think'st of it, Mowbray?
+
+MOW. As on a masque: but for our torch-bearers,
+Hell cannot make so mad a crew as I.
+
+KING. Faith, who is chief?
+
+MOW. Will Brand, my lord;
+But then your grace must curb his cruelty:
+The rein once got, he's apt for villainy.
+
+KING. I know the villain is both rough and grim;
+But as a tie-dog I will muzzle him.
+I'll bring him up to fawn upon my friends.
+And worry dead my foes. But to our masque.
+I mean this night to revel at the feast,
+Where fair Matilda graceth every guest;
+And if my hidden courtesy she grace,
+Old Baynard's Castle, good Fitzwater's place,
+John will make rich with royal England's wealth:
+But if she do not, not those scatter'd bands,
+Dropping from Austria and the Holy Land,
+That boast so much of glorious victories,
+Shall stop the inundations of those woes,
+That like a deluge I will bring on them.
+I know the crew is there; banish all fears:
+If wrong'd, they shall be ours: if welcome, theirs.
+
+                                          [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+    _Enter_ FITZWATER _and his son_: OLD BRUCE _and_
+    YOUNG BRUCE, _and call forth_ MATILDA[307].
+
+FITZ. Why, how now, votary! still at your book?
+Ever in mourning weeds? For shame, for shame!
+With better entertainment cheer our friends.
+Now, by the bless'd cross, you are much to blame
+To cross our mirth thus: you are much to blame,
+I say. Good lord! hath never woe enough
+Of welladay? Indeed, indeed,
+Some sorrow fits, but this is more than need.
+
+MAT. Good father, pardon me:
+You saw I sat the supper and the banquet;
+You know I cannot dance; discourse I shun,
+By reason that my wit, but small before,
+Comes far behind the ripe wits of our age.
+
+YOUNG B. You'll be too ripe for marriage,
+If you delay by day and day thus long.
+There is the noble Wigmore, Lord of the March
+That lies on Wye, Lug[308], and the Severn streams:
+His son is like the sun's sire's Ganymede,
+And for your love hath sent a lord to plead.
+His absence I did purpose to excuse,
+
+    _Enter_ LEICESTER.
+
+But Leicester is the man for him that sues.
+
+FITZ. My cousin Bruce hath been your broker, Leicester;
+At least hath broke the matter to my girl.
+
+LEI. O, for a barber at the time of need,
+Or one of these that dresses periwigs,
+To deck my grey head with a youthful hair!
+But I must to't. Matilda, thus it is!
+Say, can you love me? I am Wigmore's son.
+
+MAT. My cousin said he look'd like Ganymede;
+But you, but you--
+
+LEI. But I, but I, you say,
+Am rather like old Chremes in a play[309];
+But that's a nice objection: I am he,
+But by attorneyship made deputy.
+
+MAT. He's never like to speed well all his life,
+That by attorney sues to win a wife:
+But grant you are, whom you seem nothing like,
+Young Wigmore, the heir to this noble lord--
+He for his son hath sent us ne'er a word.
+
+OLD B. If you grant love, when [that] his son doth woo,
+Then in your jointure he'll send, say, and do.
+
+YOUNG B. And for a doer, cousin, take my word:
+Look for a good egg, he was a good bird;
+Cock o' the game, i' faith, [O,] never fear.
+
+MAT. Ay, but I fear the match will fall out ill,
+Because he says his son is named Will.
+
+FITZ. And why, good daughter? hath some palmister,
+Some augur, or some dreaming calculator
+(For such, I know, you often hearken to),
+Been prating 'gainst the name? go to, go to;
+Do not believe them. Leicester, fall to woo.
+
+MAT. I must believe my father; and 'tis you
+That, if I ought misdid, reprov'd me still,
+And chiding said, "You're wedded to your will."
+
+FITZ. God, for thy mercy! have ye catch'd me there?
+Wigmore is William, woman. Leicester, speak:
+Thou art the simplest wooer in the world.
+
+LEI. You have put me out, and she hath took me down;
+You with your talk, she with her ready tongue.
+You told me I should find her mild and still,
+And scarce a word came from her in an hour:
+Then did I think I should have all the talk,
+Unhinder'd by your willingness to help,
+Unanswer'd, till I had no more to say;
+And then--
+
+YOUNG B. What, then?
+She with a courtly court'sy saying Nay!
+
+MAT. Your friend's attorney might have gone his way
+With as great credit as did that orator
+Which, handling an oration some three hours,
+Ill for the matter, worse than bad for phrase,
+Having said _dixi_, look'd, and found not one
+To praise or dispraise his oration;
+For, wearied with his talk, they all were gone.
+
+FITZ. Now, by my troth, if any troth I have,
+I am as merry at Matilda's mirth,
+As I was glad to see her first day's birth.
+For till this hour, so help me halidom,[310]
+Since the too timely death of Huntington,
+Not a blithe word had passage through her lips.
+
+LEI. See, what a pleasing humour wooers bring.
+
+YOUNG B. O, but ye leave too soon.
+
+LEI. Yet she avers
+I stand too long: shall I choose yours or hers?
+
+MAT. Either forbear, I pray ye, for a while.
+
+    _Enter_ RICHMOND.[311]
+
+Welcome, Lord Richmond.
+
+RICH. What, doth Matilda smile,
+That still like silence solitary sat?
+Then off with widow's weeds, and teach your feet
+(That have forgot for want of exercise,
+And by the means your sorrow had no mean)
+To tread a measure for a gallant crew
+Of courtly masquers landed at the stairs;
+Before whom, unentreated, I am come,
+And have prevented, I believe, their page,
+Who with his torch is enter'd.
+
+FITZ.                          Richmond, thanks,
+If you have aught to say about the masquers.
+Beseech the gentlemen to enter in,
+For they are welcome guests to old Fitzwater.
+                              [_Exit Messenger_.
+Son, son, I pray you fetch the ladies in:
+We have been talking here about a match,
+And left our noble friends in discontent.
+
+RICH. Nay, by my faith we had much merriment,
+Yet thought it long you neither came nor sent.
+
+                   [MATILDA _faints, and sits down_.
+
+FITZ. How now, Matilda? pray thee, cheer thee, girl.
+
+MAT. I thought it was a lightening before death,[312]
+Too sudden to be certain. Good pleasure, stay.
+
+    _Enter Ladies_.
+
+Wilt thou not, wanton? churl, then go thy way.
+
+RICH. What, chang'd so soon? so soon fallen to your dumps?
+Cheerly! the masque comes in.
+
+    [_Enter the Masque_.]
+
+MAT. O[313] God, this veil
+And look fit not this sport. I'll leave it.
+
+LEI. Nay,
+For your love William's sake, fair maiden, stay!
+
+    [_Dance: Masquers take each a lady_, JOHN
+    MATILDA, _but [she] refusing, father.[314]
+    They sit down apart_.
+
+FITZ. This is no courtship, daughter, be not nice,
+You both abuse him and disparage us.
+His fellows had the ladies they did choose,
+And, well, you know here's no more maids than Maud:[315]
+Yourself are all our store. I pray you, rise,
+Or, by my faith, I say you do us wrong.
+
+MAT. I will do what you will. Lead, lead your dance.
+
+KING. You know me by my speech.
+
+MAT. Ay, my liege, ay. O, that temptation's tongue
+Hath[316] nowhere to be plac'd but in your head!
+
+KING. Well, say I have her tongue, had I not need,
+When you have both her eyes, nay, all her shape,
+Able to tempt even Job himself to rape?
+
+MAT. Good my lord, leave, or I will leave the place.
+
+    [_Dance again; and in the first course_ MATILDA
+    _flings from him_: JOHN _follows_.
+
+FITZ. Dance out your galliard: God's dear holy-bread!
+Y'are too forgetful. Dance, or, by my troth,
+You'll move my patience more than I will speak.
+          [_She unwilling_, JOHN _roughly pulls her_.
+Nay, soft, unmanner'd sir: you are too rough:
+Her joints are weak, your arms are strong and tough.
+If ye come here for sport, you welcome be;
+If not, better your room than such bad company.
+                      [JOHN _threatens him by signs_.
+Dost threaten me? then will I see thy face.
+
+KING. And so thou shalt. Look on me, rebel lord!
+Thou that wert late a factious ringleader,
+And in the open field gav'st me fierce fight:
+Art thou again gathering another head,
+That with such rudeness thou dost entertain
+The gentle coming of thy sovereign?
+
+FITZ. My dread lord, hear me, and forgive this fault,
+What I have erst done, long since you forgave:
+If I did lead the barons in the field,
+The barons chose me, when they could not choose
+But make some leader, you were so misled.
+When better thoughts enter'd your royal breast,
+We then obey'd you as our sovereign head.
+
+KING. You did even what you list, and so do still:
+I am the king, but you must have your will.
+The plain truth is, we are not come in sport,
+Though for our coming this was our best cloak;
+For if we never come, till you do send,
+We must not be your guest, while banquets last.
+Contentious brawls you hourly send to us;
+But we may send and send, and you return--
+This lord is sick, that pained with the gout,
+He rid from home. You think I find not out
+Your close confederacies: yes, I do, no doubt.
+
+LEI. If there be here a close confederate,
+God's vengeance light upon him with my hate!
+
+KING. No, you are open, Leicester; that I know.
+
+CHES. I, by the Lord, my lord, your open foe.
+
+LEI. By thy lord's Lord and mine, proud Ralph of Chester,
+Thou durst not say so, wert thou from the king.
+
+MOW. Yes, but he dares and shall.
+
+RICH. Mowbray, if you stand by,
+He dares perchance; else will the dastard fly.
+
+CHES. My own sword shall maintain my tongue's true speech;
+For it is not frequented to such lies,
+As wrangling Leicester and proud Richmond use:
+It cannot set out, like a thundering drum
+Or roaring cannon, stuff'd with nought but brags,
+The multitudes of seas dyed red with blood,[317]
+And famous cities into cinders turn'd
+By their two armed arms.
+
+KING. Ay, Chester;
+And then they show us rags, torn off belike
+From poor decayed ladies' petticoats;
+For neither bill, nor feather'd shot, nor pike
+Make half nor any of those rents they have.
+These, patch'd together, fasten'd unto staves,
+They will not stick to swear have been advanc'd
+Against the Sophy, Soldan, and the Turk.
+
+LEI. Do not maintain proud Chester, my life's liege:
+Your words I must put up; his if I bear--
+
+KING.[318] Yes, you shall bear them, bear, and yet not bite:
+We have you muzzled now. Remember once
+You brav'd us with your bombard boasting words.
+Come (briefly), Leicester, Richmond, both Fitzwaters, Bruce,
+Deliver up your swords immediately;
+And either yield your bodies to our hands,
+Or give such pledges as we shall accept
+Unto our steward Winchester with speed.
+
+LEI. I will not leave my arms, nor break my word,
+Except I be provok'd: your liege-man I am sworn;
+That oath is pledge enough. If you mislike--
+
+KING. Thou hear'st me say I do.
+
+LEI. And I reply:
+That pledge refus'd, I have no more for you.
+
+RICH. And Richmond says as noble Leicester saith.
+Already have we plighted fame and faith
+Which, being scorn'd, returns to us again,
+And by the king's own mouth we are discharged.
+
+KING. Fitzwater, what say you?
+
+FITZ. What pledge desires my liege?
+
+KING. I ask your stubborn daughter.
+
+YOUNG B. That were a gage
+To be engaged.
+
+FITZ. Peace, thou headstrong boy!
+Pardon me, sovereign; all my power is yours;
+My goods you may command, my life you may:
+My children too, I know, with both their lives
+Will readily adventure death's worst wrongs,
+To do such service as true subjects should;
+But honourable fame; true chastity--
+
+KING. Make no exceptions: yield her up to me,
+Or look for ever for my enmity.
+
+FITZ. Nay, then, Fitzwater tells your majesty,
+You do him wrong; and well will let you wit,
+He will defend his honour to the death.
+
+KING. And, Bruce, you are no otherwise disposed:
+You will not give your sons to me for pledge.
+
+BRUCE. I have but one, being my lesser boy,
+Who is at Guildford: for my other son--
+
+KING. He braves me with the rest.
+Well, it is night, and there's no sun to swear by,
+But God's[319] son, and by him I here protest
+A miserable storm this night to raise
+That shall not cease, while England giveth rest
+To such vile traitors. Bruce, I'll begin with you;
+I will, i' faith, as true as God is true.
+
+                          [_Exit_ KING, _cum suis_.
+
+LEI. Then shall a storm be rais'd against a storm,
+And tempest be with tempest beaten back.
+
+FITZ. But this firm island, like the sea, will toss.
+And many goodly buildings go to wrack;
+Many a widow weep her dying son,
+And many a mother to her weeping babes
+Cry out uncomfortably, "Children, peace,
+Your crying unto me is all in vain,
+Dead is my husband, your poor father slain!"
+
+YOUNG B. We cannot help it, uncle.
+
+RICH. No, you see
+Entreats and humble suits have now no power,
+But lust and wrath the kingdom do devour.
+
+BRUCE. Me he did menace first, and much I fear
+He will to Guildford, and besiege my wife.
+
+FITZ. O, hie to save her! Richmond, ride with him.
+
+RICH. Let us away, Bruce, lest we come too late,
+And with us take some score of men well-arm'd.
+
+                   [_Exeunt_ RICHMOND _and_ BRUCE.
+
+FITZ. Do: Leicester and myself will keep the city,
+Till we are furnish'd with an able army.
+Your nephew Bruce shall take an hundred men,[320]
+And post to Hertford Castle with your sister.
+Sith wrong doth[321] wake us, we will keep such watch,
+As for his life he shall not hurt us bring.
+
+                                      [_Exeunt omnes_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT III., SCENE I.
+
+
+   _Enter_ QUEEN, BRUCE'S LADY, HUBERT, SALISBURY.
+
+QUEEN. Be comforted, good madam, do not fear,
+But give your son as pledge unto the king:
+Yourself at court may keep him company.
+
+LADY B. I am betray'd! alas, I am betray'd!
+And little thought your highness had been bent
+So much against me for my many loves,
+As to prepare an entrance for my foe.
+
+QUEEN. As I shall live in heaven, I did not know
+Of Hubert's coming. But lament not this:
+Your son, you say, is gone; what fear you then?
+
+LADY B. O madam, murder, mischief, wrongs of men
+I fear, I fear--what is't I do not fear,
+Sith hope is so far off, despair so near?
+
+SAL. Answer me, good Hubert, I pray thee, Hubert, do:
+What think you of this matter? may I on your word
+Persuade the woman that all things are well?
+
+HUB. You may persuade her if you can, my lord;
+For I protest I know no other thing,
+But that the king would have him for a pledge
+Of the Lord Bruce's faith.
+
+SAL. And reason, too.
+Now, by my honour, Hubert, I protest
+It is good reason: Bruce, I tell you plain,
+Is no sound cloak to keep John from the rain.[322]
+I will go to her.
+
+HUB. Do, good simple earl.
+If not by threats nor my entreats she yield,
+Thy brain is barren of invention,
+Dried up with care; and never will she yield
+Her son to thee, that having power want'st wit.
+
+LADY B. I overhear thee, Hubert.
+
+SAL. So do I, Dame Bruce;
+But stir no coals: the man is well belov'd,
+And merits more than so.
+
+LADY B. But I will answer.
+Hubert, thou fatal keeper of poor babes,
+That are appointed hostages for John,[323]
+Had I a son here, as I have not one,
+(For yesterday I sent him into Wales),
+Think'st thou I would be so degenerate,
+So far from kind, to give him unto thee?
+I would not, I protest: thou know'st my mind.
+
+SAL. Lady, you fear more than you need to do;
+Indeed you do--in very deed you do.
+Hubert is wrong'd about the thing you mean--
+About young Arthur: O, I thought 'twas so:
+Indeed the honest, good, kind gentleman
+Did all he might for safeguard of the child.
+
+QUEEN. Believe me, Madam Bruce, the man is wrong'd.
+
+LADY B. But he wrongs me to keep my castle thus,
+Disarming my true servants, arming his.
+Now more of outrage comes! what shall I do?
+
+    _Enter the_ KING, MOWBRAY, WINCHESTER, CHESTER.
+
+KING. O, this is well! Hubert, where's Bruce's son?
+
+LADY B. Where thou shalt never see him, John.
+
+KING. Lady, we will have talk with you anon.
+Where is he, Hubert?
+
+HUB. Hid or fled, my lord:
+We can by no means get her to confess.
+
+SAL. Welcome to Guildford, Salisbury's liefest lord.[324]
+
+KING. You scarce give welcome, ere I bid you go;
+For you, my lord, the queen and Winchester
+Shall march to Hertford. Sweet Isabel,
+And if thou love me, play the amazon.
+Matilda, that hath long bewitch'd mine eye,
+Is, as I hear by spials, now in Hertford Castle:
+Besiege her there; for now her haughty father
+Ruffians it up and down, and all the brood
+Of viperous traitors whet their poison'd teeth,
+That they may feed on us that foster them.
+Go forward, and go with you victory!
+Which to assure my powers shall follow you.
+
+SAL. Did I not tell you this? then trust me next.
+Nay, he is chang'd, and cares no more for her
+Than I do, madam.
+
+KING. Begone, I say, begone!
+Your speed rich victory attendeth on:
+But your delay
+May give your foes the happy glorious day.
+
+QUEEN. One boon, my liege, and part.
+
+KING. Be brief.
+
+QUEEN. Show that poor lady pity, I beseech.
+
+                                  [_Exeunt_.
+
+KING. I will indeed. Come, lady, let us in.
+You have a son; go in and bring him me,
+And for the queen's sake I will favour ye.
+
+LADY B. I have no son. Come, come; come in and search,
+And if you find him, wretched may I be.
+                                          [_Exit_.
+
+KING. Chester and Hubert, see you keep good watch.
+Not far off do I hear a warlike sound:
+Bruce, on my life! look to't, while I go in
+To seek this boy, for needs we must have him.
+Come with us, Mowbray.
+                                        [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+         _Enter_ BRUCE, RICHMOND, _Soldiers_.
+
+RICH. The castle-gates are shut. What ho! what ho!
+You that are servants to the Lady Bruce,
+Arise, make entrance for your lord and friends.
+
+            _Enter, or above_, HUBERT, CHESTER.[325]
+
+HUB. We will make issue, ere ye enter here.
+Who have we there? Richmond and Bruce, is't you?
+What, up so soon? are ye so early here?
+In you, i' faith, the proverb's verified,
+Y'are early up, and yet are ne'er the near.
+
+RICH. The worse, our fortune. Bruce, let us go hence;
+We have no power to fight, nor make defence.
+
+CHES. What, Richmond, will you prove a runaway?
+
+RICH. From thee, good Chester I now the Lord defend!
+Bruce, we will stay and fight.
+
+BRUCE. 'Tis to no end:
+We have but twenty men, and they be tired.
+But ere we do retire, tell me, Lord Hubert,
+Where are my wife and son?
+
+HUB. Your wife is here; your son we cannot find.
+
+BRUCE. Let son and wife, high heavens, your comfort find!
+
+                                               [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.[326]
+
+
+    _Enter_ KING, MOWBRAY, LADY BRUCE.
+
+CHES. Bruce hath been here, my lord.
+
+KING. Ay, let him go.
+We have good pledges: though we see but one,
+The other we are sure will come anon.
+
+MOW. I do advise you, for your own discharge,
+Deliver up your son unto the king.
+
+KING. Nay, let her choose. Come hither, Mowbray.
+
+            [_The_ KING _and_ MOWBRAY _whisper_.
+
+HUB. The king is angry: Lady Bruce, advise you.
+
+LADY B. What! be advis'd by thee
+To have my loving, kind, and pretty boy
+Given to an unkind killer of sweet boys?
+
+CHES. Madam, go to; take counsel of your friends.
+I warrant you the king will use him well.
+
+LADY B. Ay, as he us'd his nephew Arthur, Chester.
+God bless my child from being used so!
+
+MOW. Sir Hubert, what, are all the people voided,
+The horses and the cattle turned forth?
+
+HUB. Mowbray, they be.
+
+MOW. Then will I do the king's commandment.
+
+LADY B. What will he do? good Lord! what will he do?
+Mowbray, I pray you, what is't you will do?
+
+MOW. Why, fire the castle.
+
+LADY B. The castle, Mowbray? tarry, tarry, man!
+Hold me not, Chester! gentle Mowbray, stay!
+Good Hubert, let me go!
+
+MOW. You must not go:
+The king is mov'd, and will not hear you speak.
+
+LADY B. But he shall hear me! pity me, King John!
+Call Mowbray back: hear me, for pity's sake!
+Regard the Lady Bruce's woful cry!
+
+KING. What dost thou ask?
+
+LADY B. First call back Mowbray.
+
+KING. Stay, Mowbray. Now, be brief.
+
+LADY B. I have some linen garments, jewels, 'tires,
+Pack'd in a hamper here within the lodge:
+O, let me save it from consuming fire!
+
+KING. And is this all?
+
+LADY B. It's all the little all I here have left.
+
+KING. Away! set fire! linen and trash!
+
+LADY B. Once more hear me! there's a precious gem,
+You have not any richer in all the realm:
+If fire do blemish it, art never more
+To his true colour can the same restore.
+
+KING. Fetch it.
+Two of ye help her with her hamper hither.
+
+LADY B. Nay, nay, one will suffice: the jewel if I save,
+Is all I ask.
+                                   [_Exit with_ CHESTER.
+
+KING. We shall her jewel have.
+
+HUB. She is very fearful I should keep her son.
+
+LADY B. [_Within_.] Ye do, ye do!
+
+KING. Alas! good Lady, hark: Chester and she are chiding.
+
+  _Enter_ CHESTER _and she, leading the boy_.
+
+LADY B. Let go his hand! Is this a paw, think you,
+To hold a tender hand in? fie, for shame!
+A nobleman so churlish! Look, I pray,
+His arms are gristless.[327]
+
+KING. How now, Lady Bruce!
+Doth Chester hurt the jewel of your joy?
+Now, by my troth, it is a pretty boy!
+
+LADY B. Ay, knew your majesty as much as I,
+You would say more.
+
+KING. Well, he and you of us no wrong shall have,
+But stay in Windsor Castle with Sir Walter Blunt,
+And honourably be us'd; provided still
+Your husband and your son obey our will.
+
+LADY B. For this great mercy, if they disobey,
+Myself will chide them. Fortune follow John,
+And on his foes fall swift destruction!
+
+KING. Come! let us now after the queen and Salisbury.
+
+                                     [_Exeunt omnes_.
+
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+
+    _Enter the_ QUEEN, SALISBURY, _Soldiers_.
+
+QUEEN. Now are ye, worthy and resolved men,
+Come to the cage where the unclean birds bide,
+That tire[328] on all the fair flight in the realm.
+Summon this castle, or (to keep my words)
+This cage of night-hid owls, light-flying birds.
+                                [_Offer to summon_.
+
+    _Enter_ YOUNG BRUCE, MATILDA, _Soldiers_.
+
+SAL. Stay, drum! thou need'st not summon willing men,
+Or rather wilful, for such methinks they be.
+
+QUEEN. See ye yon baggage, muffled in black weeds:
+Those clouds fold in the comet that portends
+Sad desolation to this royal realm.
+For ever seek to mask her light, good friends:
+Let us disrobe her of each little beam,
+And then your Phoebus will one Phoebe have,
+That while they live shall lend your land true light,
+Give joy unto your day, rest to your night.
+Assail them, stay not.
+
+SAL. Stay, and assay them first!
+I say to you, fair queen, this fact is foul.
+Let not provoking words whet dull-edg'd swords,
+But try if we can blunt sharp blades with words.
+Fitzwater's nephew, Bruce, I see thee there,
+And tell thee it is shame for such a boy
+To lead a many able men to fight.
+And, modest-looking maid, I see you too:
+An unfit sight to view virginity
+Guarded with other soldiers than good prayers.
+But you will say the king occasions it:
+Say what you will, no king but would take cause
+Of just offence.
+Yield you, young Bruce, your mother is in hold.
+Yield you, young maid, your father is in hold.
+
+MAT. Will the queen keep me from the lustful king,
+Then will I yield.
+
+QUEEN. A plague upon this counterfeiting quean.
+
+MAT. God's blessed mercy! will you still be mad,
+And wrong a noble virgin with vile speech?
+
+SAL. Let me alone. Matilda, maiden fair,
+Thou virgin spouse, true Huntington's just heir,
+Wilt thou come hither? and I do protest,
+The queen and I, to mitigate this war,
+Will do what thou wouldst have.
+
+MAT. I come.
+
+BRUCE. You shall not go. Sound, drums, to war!
+Alack, alack, for woe!
+Well, God for us! sith it will needs be so.
+
+                       [_Alarum, fight, stay_.
+
+SAL. What stay you for?
+
+BRUCE. Matilda's cries do stay us.
+
+MAT. Salisbury, I come in hope of thy defence.
+
+BRUCE. First will I die, ere you shall yield yourself
+To any coward lord that serves the king.
+
+SAL. Coward, proud boy! Thou find'st me no such beast,
+And thou shalt rue in earnest this rude jest.
+
+    [_Fight again_. MATILDA _taken, led by the hair
+    by two Soldiers_.
+
+SAL. Rude hands! how hale you virtuous honour forth!
+You do not well: away!
+Now, by my faith, ye do not well, I say.
+Take her, fair queen, use her as she deserves:
+She's fair, she's noble, chaste, and debonair.
+I must, according to due course of war,
+See that our soldiers scatter not too far,
+Lest, what care won, our negligence may lose.
+                                        [_Exit_.
+
+QUEEN. Is this the Helen, this the paragon,
+That makes the English Ilion[329] flame so fast?
+
+MAT. I am not she; you see I am not she:
+I am not ravish'd yet, as Helen was.
+I know not what will come of John's desire,
+That rages like the sea, that burns like fire.
+
+QUEEN. Plain John, proud Joan! I'll tear your painted face.
+Thus, thus I'll use you.    [_Scratches her_.
+
+    _Enter_ SALISBURY.
+
+MAT. Do, do what you will.
+
+SAL. How goes this gear? ha! foul fall so foul deed![330]
+Poor chaste child of Fitzwater, dost thou bleed?
+By God's bless'd mother! this is more than need;
+And more, I tell you true, than I would bear,
+Were not the danger of the camp so near.
+
+    _Enter a_ MESSENGER.
+
+MES. My lord, the foes have gathered head:
+Lord Bruce, the father, joineth with the son.
+
+SAL. Why, here's the matter: we must spend our time
+To keep your nails from scratching innocence,
+Which should have been bestow'd for our defence.
+What shall we now do? Help me, holy God!
+The foe is come, and we are out of rank.
+
+        [_Skirmish_: QUEEN _taken_, MATILDA _rescued_.
+
+    _Enter_ OLD BRUCE _wounded, led by his Son, and_ LEICESTER.
+
+BRUCE. Is the field ours?
+
+YOUNG B. Ay, thanks to noble Leicester.
+
+BRUCE. Give God thanks, son: be careful to thy mother;
+Commend me to Fitzwater; love thy brother,
+If either arms or prayers may him recover.
+
+LEI. How cheers old Bruce?
+
+YOUNG B. His soul to joy is fled,
+His grief is in my bosom buried.
+
+LEI. His life was dearly bought; for my eyes saw
+A shambles of dead men about his feet,
+Sent by his sword into eternal shade.
+With honour bury him. Cease tears, good Bruce.
+
+YOUNG B, Tears help not, I confess, yet must I weep.
+Soldiers, your help to bear him to my tent.
+
+                                [_Exeunt cum_ BRUCE.
+
+    _Enter_ QUEEN _and_ MATILDA.
+
+MAT. Be comforted, great queen: forget my wrongs.
+It was my fortune, and no fault of yours.
+
+QUEEN. Is she thus mild? or doth she mock my chance?
+
+LEI. Queen Isabel,[331] are you a prisoner?
+See what it is to be a soldier.
+But what foul hand hath harm'd Matilda's fair?[332]
+Speak, honourable maid, who tore thy hair?
+Did Salisbury or the queen this violence?
+
+MAT. Ungentle grooms first took and tore me thus,
+From whom old Salisbury, chastising their wrong,
+Most kindly brought me to this gentle queen;
+Who laid her soft hand on my bleeding cheeks,
+Gave kisses to my lips, wept for my woe;
+And was devising how to send me back,
+Even when your last alarum frighted us,
+And by her kindness fell into your hands.
+
+LEI. Which kindness we return: Madam, be free.
+Soldiers, conduct the queen whither she please.
+
+QUEEN. Farewell, Matilda; if I live, believe
+I will remember this. O, how I grieve
+That I should wrong so innocent a maid!
+Come, lady, old Fitzwater is not far:
+He'll weep to see these scars, full well I know.
+
+MAT. Would I were from this woful world of war!
+Sure I will 'scape, and to some nunnery go.
+
+                                     [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+
+    _Enter_ KING, SALISBURY, HUBERT.
+
+KING. Had you her, then, had you her in your power?
+
+SAL. Ay, marry had we: we had taken her.
+
+KING. O, had she been in mine, not all earth's power
+From my power should have freed her!
+
+SAL. You are a king, and high are princes' thoughts:
+It may be, with your sight you could have chas'd
+A host of armed men; it may be so:
+But we, your subjects, did the best we could.
+Yet Bruce the father, backing Bruce the son,
+Scatter'd our troops, brought rescue to Matilda,
+And took your peerless queen their prisoner.
+
+KING. On all the race of Bruces for this wrong
+I will have vengeance! Hubert, call in Brand.    [_Exit_ HUBERT.
+My Lord of Salisbury, give us leave awhile
+To be alone.
+
+SAL. I will, my liege. Be you comforted;
+The queen will be recovered, do not fear,
+As well as e'er she was.
+
+KING. Salisbury, forbear, I pray.
+
+SAL. Yet for the wrong she did unto Matilda,
+I fear, I fear--
+                    [_Exit_.
+
+KING. The father and the son did rescue her;
+The mother and the son shall rue the deed.
+So it shall be; I am resolv'd thereon.
+Matilda, my soul's food, those have bereft,
+And these of body's food I will bereave.
+
+    _Enter_ HUBERT [_with_] BRAND.
+
+KING. Will Brand.
+
+BRAND. Your majesty.    [_Make legs_.
+
+KING. Less of your court'sy. Hubert, stand aside.
+Post speedily to Windsor; take this ring;
+Bid Blunt deliver Bruce's wife and child
+Into your hands, and ask him for the key
+Of the dark tower o'er the dungeon vault:
+In that see you shut up the dam and brat.
+Pretend to Blunt that you have left them meat,
+Will serve some se'ennight; and unto him say,
+It is my will you bring the key away.
+And hear you, sir, I charge you on your life,
+You do not leave a bit of bread with them.
+
+BRAND. I warrant you; let me alone.
+
+KING. Come back again with all the speed you may.
+
+                                   [_Exit_ BRAND.
+
+HUB. Some cruel task is pointed for that slave,
+Which he will execute as cruelly.    [_Aside_.]
+
+KING. No ruth, no pity shall have harbour here,
+Till fair Matilda be within these arms.
+
+    _Enter_ SALISBURY _with the_ QUEEN.
+
+SAL. Comfort, my lord; comfort, my gracious lord;
+Your love is come again!
+
+KING. Ah, Salisbury! where?
+
+SAL. Here, my dread sovereign.
+
+KING. Thou liest; she is not there.
+
+SAL. Under correction you wrong my age.
+Say, I beseech you, is not this the queen?
+
+KING. I cry you mercy, Salisbury; 'tis indeed.
+Where is Matilda?
+
+QUEEN. Where virtue, chastity, and innocence remain,
+There is Matilda.
+
+KING. How comes she, pray, to be so chaste, so fair:
+So virtuous in your eye?
+
+QUEEN. She freed me from my foes, and never urg'd
+My great abuse when she was prisoner.
+
+KING. What did you to her!
+
+QUEEN. Rail'd upon her first,
+Then tare her hair, and rent her tender cheeks.
+
+KING. O heaven! was not the day dark at that foul deed?
+Could the sun see without a red eclipse
+The purple tears fall from those tyrant wounds?
+Out, Ethiop, gipsy, thick-lipped blackamoor!
+Wolf, tigress! worse than either of them both!
+
+SAL. Are you advis'd, my lord?
+
+KING. Out, doting earl!
+Couldst thou endure to see such violence?
+
+SAL. I tell you plain, my lord, I brook'd it not.
+But stay'd the tempest.
+
+KING. Rend my love's cheeks! that matchless effigy
+Of wonder-working nature's chiefest work:
+Tear her rich hair! to which gold wires,
+Sun's rays, and best of best compares
+(In their most pride) have no comparison.
+Abuse her name! Matilda's sacred name!
+O barbarous outrage, rudeness merciless!
+
+QUEEN. I told you, Salisbury, you mistook the king.
+
+SAL. I did indeed. My liege lord, give me leave
+To leave the camp.
+
+KING. Away, old fool! and take with thee that trull;
+For if she stay--
+
+SAL. Come, lady, come away,
+Tempt not his rage. Ruin wrath always brings:
+Lust being lord, there is no trust in kings.
+
+                                   [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Enter_ MOWBRAY.
+
+MOW. To arms, King John! Fitzwater's field is pitch'd
+About some mile hence on a champain[333] plain.
+Chester hath drawn our soldiers in array:
+The wings already have begun the fight.
+
+KING. Thither we will with wings of vengeance fly,
+And win Matilda, or lose victory!
+
+                                        [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT IV., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ LADY BRUCE _and her_ BOY _with_ BRAND.
+
+LADY B. Why did my keeper put us in thy hands?
+Wherein have we offended Blunt or thee?
+
+BRAND. You need not make these words:
+You must remove your lodging; this is all.
+Be not afeard: come, come, here is the door.
+
+LADY B. O God, how dark it is!
+
+BRAND. Go in, go in; it's higher up the stairs.
+
+LADY B. My trembling heart forbids me to go in.
+O, if thou have compassion, tell me true,
+What my poor boy and I must trust unto?
+
+BRAND. I tell thee true, compassion is my foe;
+Yet have I had of thee compassion.
+Take in thy child: as I have faith or troth,
+Thou and thy boy shall be but prisoners,
+And I must daily bring you meat and drink.
+
+LADY B. Well, thou hast sworn, and God so give thee light,
+As in this dark place thou rememb'rest us.
+Poor heart, thou laugh'st, and hast not wit to think
+Upon the many fears that me afflict.
+I will not in. Help us, assist us, Blunt!
+We shall be murdered in a dungeon!
+
+BRAND. Cry without cause? I'll have ye in, i' faith.
+
+LADY B. O, let my boy and I but dine with Blunt,
+And then I will with patience go in.
+
+BRAND. Will ye or nill ye, zounds! ye must go in,
+And never dine.
+
+LADY B. What say'st thou I never dine!
+
+BRAND. No--not with Blunt, I mean. Go in, I say;
+Or by this hand ye get no meat to-day.
+
+LADY B. My child is hungry: when shall he have meat?
+
+BRAND. Why, and ye would go in, immediately.
+
+LADY B. I will go in; but very much I doubt,
+Nor I nor my poor boy shall e'er come out.
+
+                      [_Exeunt. He seems to lock a door_.
+
+BRAND. Ne'er, while ye live, i' faith! now are they sure.
+Cry, till their hearts ache, no man can them hear.
+A miserable death is famishment;
+But what care I? The king commanded me.
+                                          [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    _Alarum within: excursions: enter_ FITZWATER, BRUCE.
+
+FITZ. Now doth fair fortune offer hope of speed;
+But howsoe'er we speed, good cousin Bruce,
+March with three hundred bows and pikes to Windsor,
+Spreading a rumour that the day is ours,
+As ours it shall be with the help of heaven.
+Blunt loves our part far better than the king's,
+And will, I gage my life, upon the news
+Surrender up the castle to our use.
+By this means shall you help us to a hold,
+Howe'er it chance: set free your lady mother,
+That lives in prison there with your young brother.
+
+BRUCE. Away, good uncle, to the battle go!
+But that a certain good ensues, I know,
+For all the world I would not leave you so.
+
+FITZ. Away, away!
+God send thee Windsor: us this happy day.
+
+    _Alarum still. Enter_ HUBERT _and_ MATILDA.[334]
+
+HUB. You cannot hide yourself, Matilda; no disguise
+Will serve the turn: now must you to the king,
+And all these wars will with your presence cease.
+Yield you to him, he soon will yield to peace.
+
+MAT. They say thou took'st some pity of a child,
+The king appointing thee to sear his eyes;
+Men do report thee to be just of word,
+And a dear lover of my lord the king.
+If thou didst that, if thou be one of these,
+Pity Matilda, prostrate at thy feet.
+
+HUB. I sav'd young Arthur's eyes, and pity thee;
+My word is just, which I have given the king;
+The king I love, and thee I know he loves:
+Compare these, then how can I pleasure thee?
+
+MAT. By letting me escape to Dunmow Abbey,
+Where I will end my life a votary.
+
+HUB. And the king die with doting on thy love?
+
+MAT. No, no; this fire of lust would be soon laid,
+If once he knew me sworn a holy maid.
+
+HUB. Thy tears and love of virtue have the power
+To make me at an instant true and false:
+True to distressed beauty and rare chastity;
+False to King John, that holds the sight of thee
+Dearer than England or earth's empery.
+Go, happy soul, that in so ill an age
+Hast such fair beauty for thy heritage:
+Yet go not so alone. Dost hear, tall soldier?
+                           [_Call a Soldier_.
+I know thee honest: guide this gentle maid
+To Dunmow Abbey: she is one I know.
+I will excuse thee, and content thee well;
+My signet take, that ye may pass unsearch'd.
+
+MAT. Kind Hubert, many prayers for this good deed
+Shall on my beads be daily numbered.
+
+                                        [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Enter_ LEICESTER, RICHMOND, FITZWATER.
+
+LEI. O treble heat of honour, toil, and rage!
+How cheers Earl Richmond? Fitzwater, speak, old man.
+We are now near together: answer me.
+
+FITZ. Leicester, the more our woe,
+The likelier to be taken by the foe.
+
+RICH. O, let not such a thought abuse thy age!
+We'll never yield us to the tyrant's rage.
+
+LEI. But if my girl be yielded--
+If she be!
+
+FITZ. Ay, ay--
+There's no man but shall have his time to die.
+
+LEI. Now is our hour, which they shall dearly by.
+
+    _Enter_ KING, HUBERT, CHESTER, MOWBRAY.
+
+RICH. Leicester, we'll stand like three battalions:
+What says our noble general thereto?
+
+FITZ. Why, I say, do:
+[And] while I can, I'll keep my place with you.
+
+KING. How now, my bugbear, will you now submit?
+
+LEI. To death, but not to thee.
+
+KING. Richmond, nor you?
+
+RICH. Earl Richmond will not yield.
+
+KING. Methinks, Fitzwater, you should have more wit.
+
+FITZ. If it be wit to live, I have no will;
+And so in this my will o'errules my wit.
+
+KING. Alarum then! with weapons will we scourge
+Your desperate will, and teach ye to have wit.
+
+                  [_Fight: drive back the_ KING.
+
+KING. Of high heroic spirits be they all.
+We will withdraw a little, and confer,
+For they are circled round, and cannot 'scape.
+                                   [_Withdraw_.
+
+RICH. O that we three who, in the sun's arise
+Were, like the three Triumviri[335] of Rome,
+Guides of an host, able to vanquish Rome,
+Are now alone, enclos'd with enemies!
+
+FITZ. The glory of the world hath no more stay,
+But as it comes, it fleets, and fades away.
+
+LEI. Courage, and let us die! they come again:
+It's Lord Hubert alone. Hubert, what news?[336]
+
+    _Enter_ HUBERT.
+
+HUB. This day's fierce slaughter, John our king laments,
+And to you three, great leaders of an host,
+That now have not a man at all to lead,
+You worthy captains without companies--
+
+LEI. Fitzwater! Richmond! by the blessed sun,
+Lord Hubert mocks us.
+
+HUB. By the moon, I do not; and put the blessed to't,
+It is as good an oath as you have sworn.
+My heart grieves that so great hearts as yours be
+Should put your fortunes on a sort[337] of slaves,
+That bring base fear within them to the field.
+But to the matter--sith your state is such,
+That without mercy you are sure of death
+(Which I am sure, and well his highness knows,
+You do not fear at all), yet he gives grant,
+On just conditions you shall save your lives.
+
+FITZ. On no condition will I save my life,
+Except Matilda be return'd again,
+Unblemish'd, unabus'd; and then I yield.
+
+HUB. She now is where she never will return.
+
+FITZ. Never? O God! is my Matilda dead?
+
+HUB. Dead to the world; dead to this woe she is.
+She lives at Dunmow, and is vow'd a nun.
+
+FITZ. Do not delude me, Hubert, gentle son.
+
+HUB. By all the faith and honour of my kin,
+By my unstain'd allegiance to the king.
+By my own word, that hath reproveless been,
+She is at Dunmow.
+
+FITZ. O, how came she there?
+
+HUB. When all these fields were walks for rage and fear:
+This howling like a head of hungry wolves,[338]
+That, scudding as a herd of frighted deer:
+When dust, arising like a coal-black fog,
+From friend divided friend, join'd foe to foe,
+Yet neither those nor these could either know;
+Till here and there, through large wide-mouthed wounds,
+Proud life, even in the glory of his heat
+Losing possession, belch'd forth streams of blood,
+Whose spouts in falling made ten thousand drops,
+And with that purple shower the dust allay'd--
+At such a time met I the trembling maid;
+Seeming a dove from all her fellows parted--
+Seen, known, and taken; unseen and unknown
+To any other that did know us both,
+At her entreats I sent her safely guided
+To Dunmow Abbey; and the guide return'd
+Assures me she was gladfully receiv'd,
+Pitied, and in his sight did take her oath.
+
+FITZ. Hubert, for this thy honourable deed
+I and my house will reverence thy name.
+
+HUB. Yet, I beseech you, hide it from the king;
+At least that I convey'd her to the place.
+
+    _Enter_ KING, MOWBRAY, CHESTER.
+
+FITZ. Hubert, I will.
+
+KING. What, stand they still on terms?
+
+LEI. On honourable terms, on terms of right.
+Our lives without our liberty we scorn.
+
+KING. You shall have life and liberty, I swear.
+
+LEI. Then Leicester bows his knee to his liege lord,
+And humbly begs his highness to beware
+Of wronging innocence, as he hath done.
+
+RICH. The like Richmond desires, and yields his sword.
+
+KING. I do embrace ye both, and hold myself
+Richer by a whole realm in having you.
+
+FITZ. Much is my wrong; yet I submit with these,
+Begging free leave to live a private life.
+
+KING. Old brands of malice in thy bosom rest:
+Thou shalt have leave to leave me, never doubt.
+Fitzwater, see thou ship thee straight for France,
+And never set thy foot on English shore,
+Till I repeal thee. Go, go hence in peace.
+
+LEI. Why doth your highness wrong Fitzwater thus?
+
+KING. I right his wrong; he's weary of the land.
+
+RICH. Not of the land, but of a public life.
+
+KING. Content ye, lords: in such quick times as these
+We must not keep a drone among our bees.
+
+FITZ. I am as glad to go as you to send:
+Yet I beseech this favour of your grace,
+That I may see Matilda, ere I part.
+
+KING. Matilda! see Matilda, if thou canst,
+Before sunset: stay not another day.
+
+FITZ[339]. The abbey-walls, that shroud my happy child,
+Appear within her hapless father's sight.
+Farewell, my sovereign, Leicester, Richmond, lords:
+Farewell to all; grief gives no way to words.
+
+KING. Fitzwater, stay: lords, give us leave awhile.
+Hubert, go you before unto the abbess,
+And signify our coming. Let her bring
+Matilda to her father. (_Exit_ HUBERT.) Come, old man;
+Be not too froward, and we shall be friends.
+About this girl our mortal jars began,
+And, if thou wilt, here all our quarrel ends.
+
+FITZ. Reserve my honour and my daughter's fame,
+And no poor subject that your grace commands
+Shall willinger submit, obey, and serve.
+
+KING. Do then but this. Persuade thy beauteous child
+To leave the nunnery and return to court,
+And I protest from henceforth to forswear
+All such conceits of lust as I have borne.
+
+FITZ. I will, my lord, do all that I may do;
+But give me leave in this to doubt of you.
+
+KING. This small thing grant, and ask me anything;
+Or else die in exile, loath'd of the king.
+
+FITZ. You shall perceive I will do what I may.
+
+    _Enter on the wall_, ABBESS, MATILDA. _Re-enter_ HUBERT.
+
+HUB. Matilda is afraid to leave the house;
+But lo, on yonder battlement she stands,
+But in no case will come within your hands.
+
+KING. What! will my lady-abbess war[340] with us?
+Speak, lady; wherefore shut you up your gates?
+
+ABB. Have we not reason, when an host of men
+Hunt and pursue religious chastity?
+King John, bethink thee what thou tak'st in hand
+On pain of interdiction of thy land.
+Murderers and felons may have sanctuary,
+And shall not honourable maids distress'd,
+Religious virgins, holy nuns profess'd,
+Have that small privilege? Now, out upon thee, out!
+Holy Saint Catherine, shield my virginity!
+I never stood in such extremity.
+
+HUB. My lord, the abbess lies, I warrant you;
+For I have heard there is a monk of Bury,
+That once a week comes thither to make merry.
+
+KING. Content thee, Hubert; that same monk and she,
+And the worst come, my instruments shall be.
+Good lady-abbess, fear no violence;
+There's not one here shall offer you offence.
+
+FITZ. Daughter, all this while tears my speech have stay'd.
+My lord the king, lords, all draw near, I pray,
+And hear a poor man's parting from his child.
+Matilda, still my unstain'd honour's joy,
+Fair ornament of old Fitzwater's coat,[341]
+Born to rich fortunes, did not this ill-age
+Bereave thee of thy birthright's heritage,
+Thou see'st our sovereign--lord of both our lives,
+A long besieger of thy chastity--
+Hath scatter'd all our forces, slain our friends,
+Razed our castles, left us ne'er a house
+Wherein to hide us from his wrathful eye:
+Yet God provides; France is appointed me,
+And thou find'st house-room in this nunnery.
+Here, if the king should dote as he hath done,
+It's sacrilege to tempt a holy nun:
+But I have hope he will not; yet my fear
+So drowns my hope, as I am forc'd to stay,
+And leave abruptly what I more would say.
+
+MAT. O, go not yet, my griev'd heart's comforter!
+I am as valiant to resist desire
+As ever thou wert worthy in the field.
+John may attempt, but if Matilda yield,
+O, then--
+
+FITZ. Ay, then, Matilda, thou dost lose
+The former glory of thy chaste resolves.
+These seven years hast thou bid[342] a martyr's pains,
+Resisting in thyself lust-growing fire,
+For, being mortal, sure thou hast desire;
+And five sad winters have their full course run,
+Since thou didst bury noble Huntington.
+In these years many months and many days
+Have been consum'd thy virtues to consume.
+Gifts have been heralds; panders did presume
+To tempt thy chaste ears with their unchaste tongues:
+All in effect working to no effect;
+For I was still the watchman of thy tower,
+The keeper of foul worms from my fair flower.
+But now no more, no more Fitzwater may
+Defend his poor lamb from the lion's prey--
+Thy order and thy holy prayers may.
+To help thee thou hast privilege by law;
+Therefore be resolute, and nobly die!
+Abhor base lust, defend thy chastity.
+
+KING. Despatch, Fitzwater: hinder not thy child:
+Many preferments do on her await.
+
+FITZ. Ay, girl, I know thou shalt be offer'd wealth,
+Which is a shrewd enticement in sad want,
+Great honours to lift up thy low estate,
+And glorious titles to eternise thee.
+All these do but gild over ugly shame;
+Such wealth, my child, foreruns releaseless need,
+Such honour ever proves dishonourate.
+For titles, none comes near a virtuous name:
+O, keep it ever, as thou hast done yet!
+And though these dark times should forget thy praise,
+An age will come that shall eternise it.
+Bid me farewell, and speak it in a word.
+
+MAT. Farewell, dear father.
+
+FITZ. O, farewell, sweet child.
+My liege, farewell: Leicester, Richmond, Hubert,
+Chester and Mowbray, friends and foes, farewell.
+Matilda, see thou keep thy spotless fame,
+And live eternis'd, else die soon with shame.
+                                        [_Exit_.
+
+MAT. Amen, amen: father, adieu, adieu!
+Grief dwells with me, sweet comfort follow you!
+
+ABB. Come, daughter, come. This is a woful sight,
+When good endeavours are oppress'd by might.
+
+            [_Exeunt from above_ ABBESS, MATILDA.
+
+KING. Ah, Hubert! seest thou not the sun go down,
+Cloudy and dark? Matilda, stay! one word.
+She shakes her head, and scornfully says nay.
+
+RICH. How cheer'st thou, Leicester?
+
+LEI. Mad, man, at my state,
+That cannot raise true honour ruinate.
+
+    _Enter_ MESSENGER.
+
+KING. I will not be disdain'd. I vow to see
+Quick vengeance on this girl for scorning me.
+
+MES. Young Bruce, my lord, hath gotten Windsor Castle,
+Slain Blunt your constable, and those that kept it;
+And finding in a tower his mother dead,
+With his young brother starv'd and famished,
+That every one may see the rueful sight,
+In the thick wall he a wide window makes;
+And as he found them, so he lets them be,
+A spectacle to every comer-by,
+That heaven and earth your tyrant shame may see.
+All people cursing, crying fie upon,
+The tyrant, merciless, inhuman John.
+
+KING. Chester and Mowbray, march away to Windsor:
+Suppress that traitor Bruce. What, if his dam
+In wilful fury would receive no meat,
+Nor suffer her young child any to eat,
+Is it our fault? haste ye with speed away,
+And we will follow. Go; begone, I pray.
+
+               [_Exeunt_ CHESTER, MOWBRAY.
+
+HUB. O black and woful deed! O piteous thing,
+When slaves attend the fierce thoughts of a king.
+
+LEI. My lord, shall we go too?
+
+KING. Leicester and Richmond, ay, I pray ye, do.
+
+LEI. Get I my bear and ragged staff once more
+Rais'd in the field, for these wrongs some shall roar.
+
+                        [_Exeunt_ RICHMOND, LEICESTER.
+
+KING. Fetch in the monk of Bury, that I talk'd of,
+                      [_Exeunt_ HUBERT _for the_ MONK.
+And bid Will Brand, my instrument of death,
+Come likewise in. Convert to raging hate
+
+    _Enter_ MONK, HUBERT, BRAND.
+
+My long-resisted love! welcome, good monk.
+
+MONK. Thanks to my liege.
+
+KING. Thou hast been long in suit
+To be installed abbot of your house,
+And in your favour many friends have stirr'd.
+Now is the hour that you shall be preferr'd
+Upon condition--and the matter small.
+Short shrift to make, good honest confessor,
+I love a fair nun, now in Dunmow Abbey:
+The abbess loves you, and you pleasure her;
+Now, if between you two this pretty lady
+Could be persuaded to affect a king,
+Your suit is granted, and on Dunmow Abbey
+I will bestow a hundred marks a year.
+
+MONK. A holy nun! a young nun! and a lady!
+Dear wear, my lord; yet bid you well as may be.
+Strike hands; a bargain: she shall be your own,
+Or if she will not--
+
+KING. Nay, if she do refuse,
+I'll send a death's man with you; this is he.
+If she be wilful, leave her to his hands,
+And on her own head be her hasted end.
+
+MONK. The matter shall be done.
+
+KING. Sirrah, what poisons have you ready?
+
+BRAND. Store, store.
+
+KING. Wait on the monk, then, and ere we take horse,
+I'll give you such instructions as you need.
+Hubert, repair[343] to Windsor with our host.
+
+           [_Exeunt_ KING, MONK, _and_ BRAND.
+
+HUB. Your tyrannies have lost my love almost,
+And yet I cannot choose but love eternally
+This wanton king, replete with cruelty.
+O, how are all his princely virtues stain'd
+With lust abhorred and lascivious heat
+Which, kindling first to fire, now in a flame,
+Shows to the whole world clearly his foul shame.
+To quench this flame full many a tide of tears,
+Like overflowing-full seas, have been spent;
+And many a dry land drunk with human blood;
+Yet nothing helps his passions violent:
+Rather they add oil to his raging fire,
+Heat to his heat, desire to his desire.
+Somewhat, I fear, is now a-managing,
+For that prodigious bloody stigmatic[344]
+Is never call'd unto his kingly sight,
+But like a comet he portendeth still
+Some innovation or some monstrous act,
+Cruel, unkindly, horrid, full of hate;
+As that vile deed at Windsor done of late.
+Gentle Matilda, somewhat I mistrust;
+Yet thee I need not fear, such is his love.
+Again, the place doth give thee warrantise;
+Yet I remember when his highness said,
+The lustful monk of Bury should him aid.
+Ay, so it is: if she have any ill,
+Through the lewd shaveling will her shame be wrought.
+If it so chance, Matilda's guiltless wrong
+Will with the loss of many a life be bought.
+But Hubert will be still his dread lord's friend,
+However he deserves, his master serve;
+Though he neglect, him will I not neglect:
+Whoever fails him, I will John affect;
+For though kings fault[345] in many a foul offence,
+Subjects must sue, not mend with violence.
+                                           [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+
+    _Enter_ OXFORD, QUEEN.
+
+OX. Now, by my faith, you are to blame, madam,
+Ever tormenting, ever vexing you:
+Cease of these fretting humours: pray ye, do.
+Grief will not mend it; nought can pleasure you
+But patient suffering; nor, by your grace's leave,
+Have you such cause to make such hue and cry
+After a husband; you have not in good sooth.
+Yearly a child! this payment is not bad.
+Content, fair queen, and do not think it strange,
+That kings do sometimes seek delight in change:
+For now and then, I tell you, poor men range.
+Sit down a little, I will make you smile.
+Though I be now like to the snowy Alps,
+I was as hot as Aetna in my youth;
+All fire, i' faith, true heart of oak, right steel--
+A ruffian, lady. Often for my sport
+I to a lodge of mine did make resort,
+To view my dear, I said; dear God can tell,
+It was my keeper's wife whom I lov'd well.
+My countess (God be with her) was a shrow,
+As women be, your majesty doth know;
+And some odd pick-thank put it in her head,
+All was not well: but such a life I led,
+And the poor keeper and his smooth-fac'd wife,
+That, will I, nill I, there she might not bide.
+But for the people I did well provide;
+And by God's mother, for my lady's spite,
+I trick'd her in her kind, I serv'd her right.
+Were she at London, I the country kept;
+Come thither, I at London would sojourn;
+Came she to court, from court I straightway stepp'd;
+Return, I to the court would back return.
+So this way, that way, every way she went,
+I still was retrograde, sail'd[346] opposite:
+Till at the last, by mildness and submission,
+We met, kiss'd, joined, and here left all suspicion.
+
+QUEEN. Now out upon you, Vere: I would have thought
+The world had not contain'd a chaster man.
+
+OX. Now, by my fay, I will be sworn I am.
+In all I tell you I confess no ill,
+But that I curb'd a froward woman's will:
+Yet had my keeper's wife been of my mind,
+There had been cause some fault with us to find;
+But I protest her noes and nays were such,
+That for my life she ever kept go much.[347]
+
+QUEEN. You would take nay, but our King John says no;
+No nay, no answer will suffice his turn:
+He, for he cannot tempt true chastity,
+Fills all the land with hostile cruelty.
+Is it not shame, he that should punish sin,
+Defend the righteous, help the innocent,
+Carves with his sword the purpose of his will
+Upon the guarders of the virtuous,
+And hunts admired, spotless maidenhead
+With all the darts of desolation,
+Because she scorneth to be dissolute?
+Me that he leaves, I do not murmur at;
+That he loves her, doth no whit me perplex,
+If she did love him, or myself did hate:
+But this alone is it that doth me vex:
+He leaves me that loves him, and her pursues,
+That loathes him and loves me. How can I choose
+But sadly grieve, and mourn in my green youth,
+When nor of her nor me he taketh ruth?
+
+OX. Ha' done, good queen: for God's good love, ha' done:
+This raging humour will no doubt be stay'd.
+Virtuous Matilda is profess'd a nun;
+Within a mile (at Dunmow) lives the maid.
+God will not suffer anything so vile;
+He will not, sure, that he should her defile.
+
+QUEEN. No church nor chapel, abbey, nunnery,
+Are privileg'd from his intemperance.
+But leave we him, and let us, I entreat,
+Go visit fair Matilda: much I am
+In debt unto the maid.
+
+OX. You are indeed;
+You wrong'd her, when with blows you made her bleed.
+But if you please to visit her, fair dame,
+Our coach is ready: we will soon be there.
+
+QUEEN. Thanks, Oxford; and with us I mean to bear
+The beauteous garland sent me out of Spain,
+Which I will offer in the abbey chapel,
+As witness of Matilda's chastity;
+Whom, while I live, I ever vow to love,
+In recompense of rash and causeless wrong.
+
+
+
+
+ACT V., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ BRAND _solus; with cup, bottle of poison_.
+
+BRAND. Good, by this hand! exceeding, passing good!
+The dog no sooner drank it, but yugh! yugh! quoth he:
+So grins me with his teeth, lies down and dies:
+Yugh! quoth I: by God's blood, go thy ways.
+Of all thy line and generation,
+Was never dog so worshipp'd as thou art,
+For, ere thou died'st, thou wert an officer,
+I lie not, by these[348] nails: a squire's place;
+For the vile cur became a countess's taster:
+So died the dog. Now in our next account
+The countess comes; let's see, a countess and a nun:
+Why so, why so!
+What, would she have the whole world quite undone?
+We'll mete[349] her for that trick. What, not a king?
+Hanging's too good for her. I am but a plain knave.
+And yet should any of these "no forsooths,"
+These pray-aways, these trip-and-goes, these tits,
+Deny me, now by these--
+A plague upon this bottle and this cup,
+I cannot act mine oath! but to't again--
+By these ten ends of flesh and blood[350] I swear,
+First with this hand, wound thus about her hair,
+
+And with this dagger lustily lambeak'd[351]--
+I would, i' faith, ay, by my villainy,
+I would.--But here, but here she comes,
+Led by two doctors in sweet lechery.
+If they speed, with my poison I go by;
+If not, have at you, maid: then step in I.
+
+    _Enter_ MATILDA, _between the_ MONK _and the_ ABBESS.[352]
+
+MONK. And as I said, fair maid, you have done well,
+In your distress, to seek this holy place.
+But tell me truly, how do you expel
+The rage of lust-arising heat in you?
+
+MAT. By prayer, by fasting, by considering
+The shame of ill, and meed of doing well.
+
+ABB. But daughter, daughter, tell me in my ear,
+Have you no fleshly fightings now and then?    [_Whisper_.
+
+BRAND. Fleshly, quoth you, a maid of three-score years?
+And fleshly fightings sticking in her teeth?
+Well, wench, thou'rt match'd, i' faith.    [_Aside_.]
+
+ABB. You do confess the king has tempted you,
+And thinking now and then on gifts and state,
+A glowing heat hath proudly puff'd you up:
+But, thanks to God, his grace hath done you good.
+
+MONK. Who? the king's grace?
+
+MAT. No; God's grace, holy monk.
+
+MONK. The king's grace would fain do you good, fair maid.
+
+MAT. Ill-good: he means my fame to violate.
+
+ABB. Well, let that be.
+
+BRAND. Good bawd, good mother B.[353]
+How fain you would that that good deed should be!    [_Aside_.]
+
+ABB. I was about to say somewhat upon a thing:
+O, thus it is.
+We maids that all the day are occupied
+In labour and chaste, hallow'd exercise,
+Are nothing so much tempted, while day lasts,
+As we are tried and proved in the night.
+Tell me, Matilda, had you, since you came,
+No dreams, no visions, nothing worth the note?
+
+MAT. No, I thank God.
+
+ABB. Truly you will, you will,
+Except you take good heed, and bless yourself;
+For if I lie but on my back awhile
+I am, past recovery, sure of a bad dream.
+You see yon reverend monk: now, God he knows,
+I love him dearer for his holiness,
+And I believe the devil knows it too;
+For the foul fiend comes to me many a night,
+As like the monk, as if he were the man--
+Many a hundred nights the nuns have seen,
+Pray, cry, make crosses, do they what they can--
+Once gotten in, then do I fall to work,
+My holy-water bucket being near-hand,
+I whisper secret spells, and conjure him,
+That the foul fiend hath no more power to stand:
+He down, as I can quickly get him laid,
+I bless myself, and like a holy maid,
+Turn on my right side, where I sleep all night
+Without more dreams or troubling of the sprite.
+
+BRAND. An abbess? By the cross of my good blade,[354]
+An excellent mother to bring up a maid!
+For me, I mean, and my good master John;
+But never any for an honest man.    [_Coughs_.
+Now, fie upon that word of honesty,
+Passing my throat't had almost choked me:
+'Sblood, I'll forswear it for this trick.    [_Aside_.]
+
+MONK. We trifle time. Fair maid, it's thus in brief:
+This abbey by your means may have relief;
+An hundred marks a year. Answer, I pray,
+What will you do herein?
+
+MAT. Even all I may.
+
+ABB. It's charitably spoken, my fair child:
+A little thing of yours, a little help,
+Will serve the turn: learn but to bear--to bear
+The burden of this world, and it will do.
+
+BRAND. Well, go thy ways: is this no bawd, think you?    [_Aside_.]
+
+MAT. Madam, the heavy burden of the world
+Hath long oppress'd me.
+
+ABB. But not press'd you right;
+Now shall you bear a burden far more light.
+
+MAT. What burden-bearing? whereto tends this talk?
+
+MONK. To you, to us, this abbey, and King John.
+
+MAT. O God, forfend he should be thought upon!
+
+MONK. Lady, make short: the king must lie with you.
+
+MAT. With me? with me?
+    [_First turns to the_ MONK, _then to the_ ABBESS.
+
+ABB. Sweet, never look so strange:
+He shall come closely,[355] nobody shall see.
+
+MAT. How can he come, but One hath eyes to see?
+
+MONK. Your chamber-windows shall be shadowed.
+
+MAT. But no veil from my conscience shadows me.
+
+ABB. And all the nuns sent quietly to bed.
+
+MAT. But they will rise, and by my blushing red
+Quickly give guess of my lost maidenhead.
+
+BRAND. She goes, i' faith: by God, she is their own!    [_Aside_.
+
+MONK. Be not so nice, the sin is venial,
+Considering you yield for charity;
+And by your fall the nunnery shall rise.
+
+ABB. Regard good counsel, daughter: pray, be wise.
+
+MONK. Come, here's a stir! will't do, wench? will it do?
+
+ABB. Say ay, say ay; forget the sound of no:
+Or else say no, and take it:[356] wilt thou so?
+
+MAT. Do you intend thus lewdly as you speak?
+
+BRAND.[357] Ay, by Gog's blood, do they; and, moppet, you were best
+To take their proffers, lest, if they forsake you,
+I play the devil's part--step in, and take you.
+
+MAT. Some holy water! help me, blessed nuns!
+Two damned spirits, in religious weeds,
+Attempt to tempt my spotless chastity;
+And a third devil, gaping for my soul,
+With horrid starings ghastly frighteth me.
+
+ABB. You may
+Call while you will; but, maid, list what we say,
+Or be assur'd this is your dying day.
+
+MAT. In his name that did suffer for my sin,
+And by this blessed sign, I conjure you.
+                         [_Draws a crucifix_.
+Depart, foul fiends, and cease to trouble me.
+
+BRAND. 'Zounds, she thinks us devils! Hear you, conjuror,
+Except you use that trick to conjure down
+The standing spirit of my lord the king,
+That your good mother there, the Abbess, uses
+To conjure down the spirit of the monk,
+Not all your crosses have the power to bless
+Your body from a sharp and speedy death.
+
+MAT. Are ye not fiends, but mortal bodies, then?
+                               [_Feels them all_.
+
+BRAND. Maid, maid, catch lower when you feel young men.
+'Sblood, I was never taken for the devil till now.
+
+MAT. O, where shall chastity have true defence,
+When churchmen lay this siege to innocence?
+Where shall a maid have certain sanctuary,
+When Lady Lust rules all the nunnery?
+Now fie upon ye both, false seeming saints,
+Incarnate devils, devilish hypocrites!
+A cowled monk, an aged veiled nun,
+Become false panders, and with lustful speech
+Essay the chaste ears of true maidenhead!
+Now fie upon this age! Would I were dead!
+
+MONK. Come, leave her, lady: she shall have her wish.
+
+ABB. Speed her, I pray thee: should the baggage live,
+She'll slander all the chaste nuns in the land.
+
+                              [_Exeunt_ MONK, ABBESS.
+
+BRAND. Well, well, go; get you two unto your conjuring:
+Let me alone to lay her on God's ground.
+
+MAT. Why dost thou stay?
+
+BRAND. Why, maid, because I must:
+I have a message to you from the king.
+
+MAT. And thou art welcome to his humble maid.
+I thought thee to be grim and fierce at first,
+But now thou hast a sweet aspect, mild looks.
+Art thou not come to kill me from the king?
+
+BRAND. Yes.
+
+MAT. And thou art welcome; even the welcom'st man
+That ever came unto a woful maid.
+Be brief, good fellow: I have in the world
+No goods to give, no will at all to make;
+But God's will and the king's on me be done!
+A little money, kept to give in alms,
+I have about me: deathsman, take it all;
+Thou art the last poor almsman I shall see.
+Come, come, despatch! What weapon will death wear,
+When he assails me? Is it knife or sword,
+A strangling cord, or sudden flaming fire?
+
+BRAND. Neither, thou manly maid. Look here, look here:
+A cup of poison. Wherefore dost thou smile?
+
+MAT. O God! in this the king is merciful:
+My dear-lov'd Huntington by poison died.
+Good fellow, tell the king I thank his grace,
+And do forgive his causeless cruelty.
+I do forgive thee too, but do advise
+Thou leave this bloody course, and seek to save
+Thy soul immortal, closed in thy breast:
+                             [_He gives it her_.
+Be brief, I pray you. Now, to King John's health
+A full carouse:[358] and, God, remember not
+The curse he gave himself at Robin's death,
+Wishing by poison he might end his life,
+If ever he solicited my love.
+Farewell, good fellow. Now thy medicine works.
+And with the labour I am forc'd to rest.
+
+BRAND. 'Zounds! she cares not: she makes death a jest.
+
+MAT. The guiltless fear not death. Farewell, good friend;
+I pray thee, be no trouble in my end.
+                        [_He stands staring and quaking_.
+
+    _Enter_ OXFORD, QUEEN, ABBESS, _Attendants_.
+
+OX. And say you, Lady Abbess, that there came
+One from the king unto her? what was he?
+
+ABB. Yonder he stands: I know not what he is.
+                        [_Still he stands staring_.
+
+QUEEN. Jesus have mercy! Oxford, come not nigh him.
+
+OX. Not nigh him, madam? yes: keep you away.
+
+ABB. Come in, good queen; I do not mean to stay.
+                                    [_Exit_ ABBESS.
+
+QUEEN. Nor I to stir before I see the end.[359]
+
+OX. Why star'st thou thus? speak, fellow: answer me.
+Who art thou?
+
+BRAND. A bloody villain and a murderer!
+A hundred have I slain with mine own hands.
+'Twas I that starv'd the Lady Bruce to death
+And her young son at Windsor Castle late:
+'Tis I have slain Matilda, blessed maid,
+And now will hurry to damnation's mouth,
+Forc'd by the gnawing worm of conscience.    [_Runs in_.
+
+OX. Hold him, for God's sake! stay the desperate wretch.
+
+MAT. O, some good pitying man compassionate
+That wretched man, so woful desperate:
+Save him, for God's sake! he hath set me free
+From much world's woe, much wrong, much misery.
+
+QUEEN. I hear thy tongue, true perfect charity!
+Chaste maid, fair maid, look up and speak to me.
+
+MAT. Who's here? My gracious sovereign Isabel!
+I will take strength and kneel.
+
+QUEEN. Matilda, sit;
+I'll kneel to thee. Forgive me, gentle girl,
+My most ungentle wrongs.
+
+MAT. Fair, beauteous queen,
+I give God thanks I do not think on wrongs.
+
+OX. How now, Fitzwater's child! How dost thou, girl?
+
+MAT. Well, my good Lord of Oxford; pretty well:
+A little travail[360] more, and I shall rest,
+For I am almost at my journey's end.
+O that my head were rais'd a little up,
+My drowsy head, whose dim decaying lights
+Assure me it is almost time to sleep.
+                          [_Raise her head_.
+I thank your highness; I have now some ease.
+Be witness, I beseech your majesty,
+That I forgive the king with all my heart;
+With all the little of my living heart,
+That gives me leave to say I can forgive;
+And I beseech high heaven he long may live
+A happy king, a king belov'd and fear'd.
+Oxford, for God's sake, to my father write
+The latest commendations of his child;
+And say Matilda kept his honour's charge,
+Dying a spotless maiden undefil'd.
+Bid him be glad, for I am gone to joy,
+I, that did turn his weal to bitter woe.
+The king and he will quickly now grow friends,
+And by their friendship much content will grow.
+Sink, earth to earth; fade, flower ordain'd to fade,
+But pass forth, soul, unto the shrine of peace;
+Beg there atonement may be quickly made.
+Fair queen, kind Oxford, all good you attend.
+Fly forth, lay soul, heaven's King be there thy friend.
+                                                [_Dies_.
+
+OX. O pity-moving sight![361] age pitiless!
+Are these the messages King John doth send?
+Keep in, my tears, for shame! your conduits keep,
+Sad woe-beholding eyes: no, will ye not?
+Why, then, a God's name, weep.    [_Sit_.
+
+QUEEN. I cannot weep for ruth.[362] Here, here! take in
+The blessed body of this noble maid:
+In milk-white clothing let the same be laid
+Upon an open bier, that all may see
+King John's untimely lust and cruelty.
+
+                     [_Exeunt with the body_.
+
+OX. Ay, be it so; yourself, if so you please,
+Will I attend upon, and both us wait
+On chaste Matilda's body, which with speed
+To Windsor Castle we will hence convey.
+There is another spectacle of ruth,
+Old Bruce's famish'd lady and her son.
+
+QUEEN. There is the king besieging of young Bruce:
+His lords are there who, when they see this sight,
+I know will have small heart for John to fight.
+
+OX. But where's the murderer, ha? is not he stay'd?
+
+SER.[363] Borne with a violent rage he climb'd a tree,
+And none of us could hinder his intent;
+But getting to the top-boughs, fast he tied
+His garters to his neck and a weak branch;
+Which being unable to sustain his weight,
+Down to the ground he fell, where bones and flesh
+Lie pash'd[364] together in a pool of blood.
+
+OX. Alas for woe! but this is just heaven's doom
+On those that live by blood: in blood they die.
+Make[365] an example of it, honest friends:
+Do well, take pains, beware of cruelty.
+Come, madam, come: to Windsor let us go,
+And there to Bruce's grief add greater woe.
+
+                                 [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    _Enter_ BRUCE _upon the walls_.
+
+BRUCE. Will not my bitter bannings[366] and sad plaints,
+My just and execrable execrations,
+My tears, my prayers, my pity-moving moans
+Prevail, thou glorious bright lamp of the day,
+To cause thee keep an obit for their souls,
+And dwell one month with the Antipodes?
+Bright sun, retire; gild not this vault of death
+With thy illustrate rays: retire, retire,
+And yield black night thy empery awhile--
+A little while, till as my tears be spent,
+My blood be likewise shed in raining drops
+By the tempestuous rage of tyrant John.
+Learn of thy love, the morning: she hath wept
+Shower upon shower of silver-dewy tears;
+High trees, low plants, and pretty little flowers
+Witness her woe: on them her grief appears,
+And as she drips on them, they do not let,
+By drop and drop, their mother earth to wet.
+See these hard stones, how fast small rivulets
+Issue from them, though they seem issueless,
+And wet-eyed woe on everything is view'd,
+Save in thy face, that smil'st at my distress.
+O, do not drink these tears thus greedily,
+Yet let the morning's mourning garment dwell
+Upon the sad earth. Wilt thou not, thou churl?
+Then surfeit with thy exhalations speedily;
+For all earth's venomous infecting worms
+Have belch'd their several poisons on the fields,
+Mixing their simples in thy compound draught.
+Well, Phoebus, well, drink on, I say, drink on;
+But when thou dost ungorge thee, grant me this,
+Thou pour thy poisons on the head of John.
+
+    _Drum. Enter_ CHESTER, MOWBRAY, _Soldiers, at
+    one door_:[367] LEICESTER, RICHMOND, _at another:
+    Soldiers_.
+
+BRUCE. How now, my lords! were ye last night so pleased
+With the beholding of that property[368]
+Which John and other murderers have wrought
+Upon my starved mother and her son,
+That you are come again? Shall I again
+Set open shop, show my dead ware, dear-bought
+Of a relentless merchant, that doth trade
+On the red sea, swoll'n mighty with the blood
+Of noble, virtuous, harmless innocents?
+Whose coal-black vessel is of ebony,
+Their shrouds and tackle (wrought and woven by wrong)
+Stretch'd with no other gale of wind but grief,
+Whose sighs with full blasts beateth on her shrouds;
+The master murder is, the pilot shame,
+The mariners, rape, theft and perjury;
+The burden, tyrannous oppression,
+Which hourly he in England doth unlade.
+Say, shall I open shop and show my wares?
+
+LEI. No, good Lord Bruce, we have enough of that.
+
+    _Drum. Enter_ KING, HUBERT, _Soldiers_.
+
+KING. To Windsor welcome, Hubert. Soft, methinks
+Bruce and our lords are at a parley now?
+
+BRUCE. Chester and Mowbray, you are John's sworn friends;
+Will you see more? speak, answer me, my lords.
+I am no niggard, you shall have your fill.
+
+BOTH. We have too much, and surfeit with the woe.
+
+BRUCE. Are you all full? there comes a ravening kite,
+That both at quick, at dead, at all will smite.
+He shall, he must; ay, and by'r Lady, may
+Command me to give over holiday,
+And set wide open what you would not see.
+
+KING. Why stand ye, lords, and see this traitor perch'd
+Upon our castle's battlements so proud?
+Come down, young Bruce, set ope the castle-gates;
+Unto thy sov'reign let thy knee be bow'd,
+And mercy shall be given to thee and thine.
+
+BRUCE. O miserable thing!
+Comes mercy from the mouth of John our king?
+Why then, belike, hell will be pitiful.
+I will not ope the gates--the gate I will;
+The gate where thy shame and my sorrow sits.
+See my dead mother and her famish'd son!
+    [_Opens a casement, showing the dead bodies within_.]
+Open thy tyrant's eyes, for to the world
+I will lay open thy fell cruelties.
+
+KING. We heard, indeed, thy mother and her son
+In prison died by wilful famishment.
+
+BRUCE. Sin doubled upon sin! Slander'st thou the dead?
+Unwilling willingness it shall appear,
+By then I have produc'd, as I will do,
+The just presumptions 'gainst your unjust act.
+
+KING. Assail the castle, lords! alarum, drums!
+And drown this screech-owl's cries with your deep sounds.
+
+LEI. I tell thee, drummer, if thy drum thou smite,
+By heav'n, I'll send thy soul to hell's dark night.
+Hence with thy drum! God's passion, get thee hence!
+Begone, I say; move not my patience.
+
+                                 [_Exit drum_.
+
+KING. Are you advised, Leicester, what you do?
+
+LEI. I am advised; for, my sovereign, know,
+There's not a lord here will lift up his arm
+Against the person of yon noble youth,
+Till you have heard the circumstantial truth,
+By good presumptions, touching this foul deed.
+Therefore, go on, young Bruce; proceed, refel[369]
+The allegation that puts in this doubt,
+Whether thy mother, through her wilfulness,
+Famish'd herself and her sweet son, or no.
+
+BRUCE. Unlikely supposition: nature first denies
+That any mother, when her youngling cries,
+If she have means, is so unnatural
+To let it faint and starve. But we will prove
+She had no means, except this moanful mean,
+This torture of herself. Come forth, come forth,
+Sir William Blunt, whom slander says I slew:
+Come, tell the king and lords what you know true.
+
+    _Enter_ SIR WILLIAM BLUNT [_on the walls_.][370]
+
+KING. Thou hast betray'd our castle.
+
+BLUNT. No: God can tell,
+It was surpris'd by politic report,
+And affirmation that your grace was slain.
+
+RICH. Go on, Sir William Blunt:
+Pass briefly to the lady's famishment.
+
+BLUNT. About some ten days since there came one Brand,
+Bringing a signet from my lord the king,
+And this commission, signed with his hand,
+                    [_Lords look, and read the thing_.
+Commanding me, as the contents express,
+That I should presently deliver up
+The Lady Bruce and her young son to him.
+
+MOW. What time o' day was this?
+
+BLUNT. It was, Lord Mowbray, somewhat past eleven,
+For we were even then sitting down to dine.
+
+LEI. But did ye dine?
+
+BLUNT. The lady and her son did not.
+Brand would not stay.
+
+BRUCE. No, Leicester, no; for here is no such sign
+Of any meat's digestion.
+
+RICH. But, by the way, tell us, I pray you, Blunt,
+While she remain'd with you, was she distraught
+With grief, or any other passions violent?
+
+BLUNT. She now and then would weep, and often pray
+For reconcilement 'twixt the king and lords.
+
+CHES. How to her son did she affected stand?
+
+BLUNT. Affection could not any more affect;
+Nor might a mother show more mother's love.
+
+MOW. How to my lord the king?
+
+BLUNT. O my Lord God!
+I never knew a subject love king more.
+She never would blin[371] telling, how his grace
+Sav'd her young son from soldiers and from fire;
+How fair he spake, gave her her son to keep:
+And then, poor lady, she would kiss her boy,
+Pray for the king so hearty earnestly,
+That in pure zeal she wept most bitterly.
+
+KING. I weep for her, and do by heaven protest,
+I honour'd Bruce's wife, howe'er that slave
+Rudely effected what I rashly will'd.
+Yet when he came again, and I bethought
+What bitter penance I had put them to
+For my conceiv'd displeasure 'gainst old Bruce,
+I bad the villain post and bear them meat:
+Which he excus'd, protesting pity mov'd him
+To leave wine, bread, and other powder'd meat,[372]
+More than they twain could in a fortnight eat.
+
+BLUNT. Indeed, this can I witness with the king,
+Which argues in that point his innocence:
+Brand did bear in a month's provision,
+But lock'd it, like a villain, far from them;
+And lock'd them in a place, where no man's ear
+Might hear their lamentable woful moans;
+For all the issue, both of vent and light,
+Came from a loover[373] at the tower's top,
+Till now Lord Bruce made open this wide gap.
+
+BRUCE. Had I not reason, think you, to make wide
+The window, that should let so much woe forth?
+Where sits my mother, martyr'd by herself,
+Hoping to save her child from martyrdom?
+Where stands my brother, martyr'd by himself,
+Because he would not taste his mother's blood?
+For thus I gather this:--my mother's teeth and chin
+Are bloody with the savage cookery
+Which her soft heart, through pity of her son,
+Respectless made her practise on herself;
+And her right hand, with offering it the child,
+Is with her own pure blood stain'd and defil'd.
+My little brother's lips and chin alone
+Are tainted with the blood; but his even teeth,
+Like orient pearl or snow-white ivory,
+Have not one touch of blood, one little spot:
+Which is an argument the boy would not
+Once stir his lips to taste that bloody food
+Our cruel-gentle mother minister'd:
+But as it seem'd (for see his pretty palm
+Is bloody too) he cast it on the ground,
+For on this side the blessed relics lie,
+By famine's rage divided from this shrine.
+Sad woful mother in Jerusalem!
+Who, when thy son and thou didst faint for food,
+Buried his sweet flesh in thy hungry womb,
+How merciless wert thou, if we compare
+Thy fact and this! For my poor lady mother
+Did kill herself to save my dying brother;
+And thou, ungentle son of Miriam,
+Why didst thou beg life when thy mother lack'd?
+My little brother George did nobly act
+A more courageous part: he would not eat,
+Nor beg to live. It seem'd he did not cry:
+Few tears stand on his cheek, smooth is each eye;
+But when he saw my mother bent to die,
+He died with her. O childish valiancy--
+
+KING. Good Bruce, have done. My heart cannot contain
+The grief it holds: my eyes must show'r down rain.
+
+LEI. Which showers are even as good
+As rain in harvest, or a swelling flood
+When neighbouring meadows lack the mower's scythe.
+
+    _A march for burial, with drum and fife. Enter_
+    OXFORD. MATILDA _borne with nuns, one carrying
+    a white pendant--these words written in gold:
+    "Amoris Castitatis et Honoris Honos." The_ QUEEN
+    _following the bier, carrying a garland of flowers.
+    Set it in the midst of the stage_.
+
+RICH. List, Leicester: hear'st thou not a mournful march?
+
+LEI. Yes, Richmond, and it seemeth old De Vere.
+
+OX. Lords, by your leave, is not our sovereign here?
+
+KING. Yes, good old Aubrey.
+
+OX. Ah, my gracious lord!
+That you so much your high state should neglect!
+Ah! God in heaven forgive this bloody deed!
+Young Bruce, young Bruce, I weep
+Thy mother and thy brother's wrong;
+Yet to afflict thee more, more grief I bring.
+
+BRUCE. O honourable Aubery de Vere,
+Let sorrow in a sable suit appear:
+Do not misshape her garment like delight;
+If it be grief, why cloth'st thou her in white?
+
+OX. I cannot tell thee yet: I must sit down.
+Attend, young Bruce, and listen to the queen;
+She'll not be tongue-tied: we shall have a stir
+Anon, I fear, would make a man half-sick.
+
+QUEEN. Are you here, lecher? O intemperate king!
+Wilt thou not see me? Come, come, show your face,
+Your grace's graceless, king's unkingly face.
+What, mute? hands folded, eyes fix'd on the earth?
+Whose turn is next now to be murdered?
+The famish'd Bruces are on yonder side,
+On this, another I will name anon;
+One for whose head this garland I do bear,
+And this fair, milk-white, spotless pendant too.
+Look up, King John! see, yonder sits thy shame;
+Yonder it lies! what, must I tell her name?
+It is Matilda, poisoned by thee.
+
+KING. Matilda! O that foul swift-footed slave,
+That kills, ere one have time to bid him save!
+Fair, gentle girl, ungently made away.
+
+BRUCE. My banish'd uncle's daughter, art thou there?
+Then I defy all hope, and swear--
+
+LEI. Stay, Bruce, and listen well what oath to swear.
+Louis the Dolphin, pitying our estate,
+Is by the Christian king his father sent
+With aid to help us, and is landed too.
+Lords, that will fly the den of cruelty,
+And fight to free yourselves from tyranny[374]--
+Bruce, keep that castle to the only use
+Of our elected king, Louis of France.
+
+OX. God's passion! do not so: King John is here!
+Lords, whisper not with Leicester? Leicester, fie!
+Stir not again regardless mutiny.
+Speak to them, Hugh:[375] I know thou lov'st the king.
+Madam, go to them; nay do, for God's sake, do!
+Down with your stomach,[376] for if he go down,
+You must down too, and be no longer queen:
+Advise you; go, entreat them speedily.
+My sovereign, wherefore sit you sighing there?
+The lords are all about to follow Louis:
+Up and entreat them, else they will away.
+
+KING. Good Oxford, let them go. Why should they stay?
+
+OX. What, are ye desperate? That must not be.
+Hear me, my lords.
+
+                     [_All stand in council_.
+
+KING. This pendant let me see.
+_Amoris Castitatis et Honoris Honos_.
+She was, indeed, of love the honour once,[377]
+When she was lov'd of virtuous Huntington:
+Of chastity the honour all her life;
+To impure thoughts she never could be won:
+And she of honour was the honour too.
+By birth and life[378] she honour honoured.
+Bring in two tapers lighted: quick, despatch!
+
+LEI. Remember, Bruce, thy charge. Come, lords, away!
+
+ALL _but_ OXFORD _and_ HUBERT. Away! we will away.
+
+                     [_Bring in two white tapers_.
+
+OX. Hark, Leicester, but one word: a little stay.
+Help me, good Hubert! help me, gentle queen!
+
+                             [_Again confer_.[379]
+
+KING. How dim these tapers burn! they give no light.
+Here were two beauteous lamps, that could have taught
+The sun to shine by day, the moon by night;
+But they are dim, too, clean extinguished.
+Away with these, sith those fair lights be dead!
+
+OX. And, as I say--hark, Bruce, unto our talk--
+Think you it is for love of England Louis comes?
+Nay. France is not so kind; I would it were.
+Advise yourselves. Hark, dost thou hear me, Bruce?
+
+BRUCE. Oxford, I do.
+
+OX. Can noble English hearts bear the French yoke?
+No, Leicester: Richmond, think on Louis' sire,
+That left you and your king in Palestine.
+
+QUEEN. And think, beside, you know not Louis's nature,
+Who may be as bad as John, or, rather, worse
+Than he.
+
+HUB. And look, my lords, upon his silent woe;
+His soul is at the door of death, I know.
+See how he seeks to suck, if he could draw
+Poison from dead Matilda's ashy lips.
+I will be sworn his very heart-string nips.
+A vengeance on that slave, that cursed Brand!
+I'll kill him, if I live, with this right hand.
+
+OX. Thou canst not, Hubert; he hath kill'd himself--
+But to our matter. Leicester, pray thee speak.
+Young Bruce, for God's sake, let us know thy mind.
+
+BRUCE. I would be loth to be a stranger's slave:
+For England's love, I would no French king have.
+
+LEI. Well, Oxford, if I be deceiv'd in John again,
+It's 'long of you, Lord Hubert, and the queen.
+Yield up the castle, Bruce: we'll once more try
+King John's proceedings. Oxford, tell him so.
+
+    [OXFORD _goes to the_ KING, _does his duty,
+    and talks with him_.
+
+BRUCE. I will come down. But first farewell, dear mother,    [_Kiss her_.
+Farewell, poor little George, my pretty brother!
+Now will I shut my shambles in again:
+Farewell, farewell!    [_Closes the casement_.
+In everlasting bliss your sweet souls dwell.
+
+Ox. But you must mend, i' faith; in faith you must[380].
+
+LEI. My lord, once more your subjects do submit,
+Beseeching you to think how things have pass'd;
+And let some comfort shine on us, your friends,
+Through the bright splendour of your virtuous life.
+
+KING. I thank you all; and, Leicester, I protest,
+I will be better than I yet have been.
+
+BRUCE. Of Windsor Castle here the keys I yield.
+
+KING. Thanks, Bruce: forgive me, and I pray thee see
+Thy mother and thy brother buried
+                     [BRUCE _offers to kiss_ MATILDA.
+In Windsor Castle church. Do, kiss her cheek:
+Weep thou on that, on this side I will weep.
+
+QUEEN. Chaste virgin, thus I crown thee with these flowers.
+
+KING. Let us go on to Dunmow with this maid:
+Among the hallow'd nuns let her be laid.
+Unto her tomb a monthly pilgrimage
+Doth King John vow, in penance for this wrong.
+
+Go forward, maids; on with Matilda's hearse,
+And on her tomb see you engrave this verse.
+
+    "Within this marble monument doth lie
+     Matilda, martyr'd for her chastity."
+
+                                 [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+EPILOGUS.
+
+Thus is Matilda's story shown in act,
+And rough-hewn out by an uncunning hand:
+Being of the most material points compact,
+That with the certain'st state of truth do stand.
+
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTION BETWEEN LIBERALITY AND PRODIGALITY.
+
+
+
+
+_EDITION_
+
+
+_A Pleasant Comedie, shewing the contention betweene Liberalitie and
+Prodigalitie. As it was playd before her Maiestie. London Printed by
+Simon Stafford for George Vincent, and are to be sold at the signs of
+the Hand in hand in Wood-street over against S. Michaels Church_.
+1602. 4to.
+
+The copy of this play in the Garrick collection appears to be the only
+one known, and from that source it is now for the first time reprinted.
+Mr Collier (Hist Engl. Dram. Poetr., ii, 318) points out that there is
+internal evidence, from the allusion to the 43d year of Queen Elizabeth,
+that the production was performed before her Majesty in 1600; and it
+seems likely that it was a revival of a more ancient piece. The writer
+just quoted remarks that a play, called "Prodigality," was exhibited at
+Court in 1568 (ibid. note). Philips, author of the "Theatrum Poetarum,"
+in assigning it to Greene, followed either some tradition of the time or
+his own whim; but he is not a trustworthy authority; and his article on
+Greene is assuredly as puerile and absurd a performance as could be
+imagined.
+
+In the prologue, the writer refers to _childish years_, presumably his
+own, and perhaps the "Contention" was a youthful effort. Moreover, from
+the (not very appropriate) introduction of Latin terms here and there,
+it is allowable to suspect that the author was preparing to graduate in
+arts, if he had not done so.
+
+
+
+
+THE PROLOGUE.
+
+
+The proverb is, _How many men, so many minds_,
+Which maketh proof how hard a thing it is,
+Of sundry minds to please the sundry kinds.
+In which respect I have inferred this,
+  That where men's minds appear so different,
+  No play, no part, can all alike content.
+
+The grave Divine calls for Divinity:
+The civil student for Philosophy:
+The courtier craves some rare sound history:
+The baser sort, for knacks of pleasantry.
+  So every sort desireth specially,
+  What thing may best content his fantasy.
+
+But none of these our barren toy affords.
+To pulpits we refer Divinity:
+And matters of estate to Council boards.
+As for the quirks of sage Philosophy,
+Or points of squirriliting scurrility,
+  The one we shun, for childish years too rare,
+  Th'other unfit for such as present are.
+
+But this we bring is but to serve the time,
+A poor device to pass the day withal:
+To loftier points of skill we dare not climb,
+Lest (perking over-high) with shame we fall.
+  Such as doth best beseem such as we be,
+  Such we present, and crave your courtesy.
+
+That courtesy, that gentleness of yours,
+Which wonted is to pardon faults of ours:
+Which granted, we have all that we require:
+Your only favour, only our desire.
+
+THE END OF THE PROLOGUE.
+
+
+
+
+THE SPEAKERS.
+
+
+THE PROLOGUE.
+VANITY, _Fortune's chief servant_.
+PRODIGALITY, _suitor for Money_.
+POSTILION, _his servant_.
+HOST.
+TENACITY, _suitor for Money_.
+DANDALINE, _the hostess_.
+TOM TOSS.
+DICK DICER.
+FORTUNE.
+MASTER MONEY, _her son_.
+VIRTUE.
+EQUITY.
+LIBERALITY, _chief steward to Virtue_.
+CAPTAIN WELL-DONE.
+COURTIER.
+LAME SOLDIER.
+CONSTABLES, _with Hue and Cry_.
+TIPSTAVES.
+SHERIFF.
+CLERK.
+CRIER.
+JUDGE.
+EPILOGUE.
+
+
+
+
+THE CONTENTION BETWEEN LIBERALITY AND PRODIGALITY.
+
+
+
+SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ VANITY _solus, all in feathers_.
+
+In words to make description of my name,
+My nature or conditions, were but vain;
+Sith this attire so plainly shows the same,
+As showed cannot be in words more plain.
+For lo, thus roundabout in feathers dight,
+Doth plainly figure mine inconstancy:
+As feathers, light of mind; of wit as light,
+Subjected still to mutability,
+And for to paint me forth more properly,
+Behold each feather decked gorgeously
+With colours strange in such variety,
+As plainly pictures perfect vanity.
+And so I am, to put you out of doubt,
+Even vanity wholly; within, without:
+In head, in heart: in all parts roundabout:
+But whence I come, and why I hither come,
+And upon whom I daily do attend,
+In brief, to show you in a little sum,
+My special meaning is, and so an end.
+I came from Fortune, my most sovereign dame,
+Amongst whose chiefest servants I am one:
+Fortune, that earthly goddess great of name,
+To whom all suits I do prefer alone.
+She, minding in this place forthwith t'appear,
+In her most gorgeous pomp and princely port,
+Sends me to see all things in presence here,
+Prepar'd and furnish'd in the bravest sort.
+Here will she mount this stately sumptuous throne,
+As she is wont to hear each man's desire:
+And whoso wins her favour by his moan,
+May have of her the thing he doth require.
+And yet another dame there is, her enemy,
+'Twixt whom remains continual emulation:
+Virtue who, in respect of Fortune's sovereignty,
+Is held, God wot, of simple reputation;
+Yet hither comes (poor soul) in her degree,
+This other seat half-forced to supply:
+But 'twixt their state what difference will be,
+Yourselves shall judge and witness, when you see.
+Therefore I must go deck up handsomely,
+What best beseems Dame Fortune's dignity.
+                                         [_Exit_.
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+    _Enter_ PRODIGALITY, POSTILION, _and_ HOST.
+
+PROD. Postilion, stay, thou drugg'st on like an ass.
+Lo, here's an inn, which I cannot well pass:
+Here will we bait, and rest ourselves awhile.
+
+POST. Why, sir, you have to go but six small mile;
+The way is fair, the moon shines very bright.
+Best now go on, and then rest for all night.
+
+PROD. Tush, Postil, fair or foul, or far or near,
+My weary bones must needs be rested here.
+
+POST. 'Tis but a paltry inn, there's no good cheer;
+Yet shall you pay for all things passing dear.
+
+PROD. I care not for all that: I love mine ease.
+
+POST. Well, sir, a God's name, then do what you please.
+
+PROD. Knock, then, at the gate.
+
+POST. Ho, who's at home? hostler, chamberlain, tapster?
+Ho! take in gentlemen. Knave, slave, host, hostess, ho!
+                                  [_Rip, rap, rip, rap_.
+What, is there none that answers? _Tout a la mort_?
+Sir, you must make entrance at some other port:
+For here's no passage.
+
+PROD. No? let me come; I'll knock a little harder.
+Here must I in; for sure I will no farder.
+                            [_Rip, rap, rap, rap_.
+Ho! who dwells here? [_Rip, rap, rap_]. I'll call on the women another
+while. Ho! butter-wench, dairy-maid, nurse, laundress, cook, host,
+hostess, anybody, ho!
+
+HOST. Who's there?
+
+PROD. Up, sir, with a horse night-cap! what, are ye all in a drunken
+dream! can ye not hear?
+
+POST. Not a word more! he is fast asleep again,
+I fear. What, ho?
+
+HOST. How now?
+
+PROD. How now? now the devil take thee!
+Can calling, nor knocking, nor nothing, awake thee?
+
+HOST. Now, sir, what lack ye?
+
+PROD. Lodging.
+
+HOST. What are you?
+
+PROD. Gentlemen. Seest thou not?
+
+HOST. Whence come ye?
+
+PROD. What skills that? open the gate.
+
+HOST. Nay, soft a while, I am not wont so late
+To take in guests. I like ye not: away.
+
+PROD. Nay, stay awhile, mine host; I pray thee, stay,
+Open the gate, I pray thee heartily,
+And what we take we will pay thee royally.
+
+HOST. And would ye have lodging then?
+
+PROD. Yea, rather than my life.
+
+HOST. Then stay a while; I'll first go ask my wife.
+
+PROD. Nay, nay, send her rather to me:
+If she be a pretty wench, we shall soon agree.
+
+POST. Now a bots[381] on him and his wife both for me!    [_Aside_.
+
+HOST. Then you would have lodgings belike, sir?
+
+PROD. Yea, I pray thee come quickly.
+
+HOST. What's your name, and please you?
+
+PROD. Prodigality.
+
+HOST. And will you indeed spend lustily?
+
+PROD. Yea, that I will.
+
+HOST. And take that ye find patiently?
+
+PROD. What else?
+
+HOST. And pay what I ask willingly?
+
+PROD. Yea, all reckonings unreasonably.
+
+HOST. Well, go too; for this once I am content to receive ye: come on,
+sir, I daresay you are almost weary.
+
+PROP. Thou may'st swear it.
+
+                          [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+
+    _Enter_ VIRTUE _and_ EQUITY.
+
+VIR. O most unhappy state of reckless humane kind!
+O dangerous race of man, unwitty, fond and blind!
+O wretched worldlings, subject to all misery,
+When fortune is the prop of your prosperity!
+Can you so soon forget, that you have learn'd of yore
+The grave divine precepts, the sacred wholesome lore,
+That wise philosophers with painful industry
+Have[382] written and pronounc'd for man's felicity?
+Whilome [it] hath been taught, that Fortune's hold is tickle;
+She bears a double face, disguised, false and fickle,
+Full fraughted with all sleights, she playeth on the pack;
+On whom she smileth most, she turneth most to wrack.
+The time hath been, when Virtue had[383] the sovereignty
+Of greatest price, and plac'd in chiefest dignity;
+But topsy-turvy now the world is turn'd about:
+Proud Fortune is preferr'd, poor Virtue clean thrust out.
+Man's sense so dulled is, so all things come to pass,
+Above the massy gold t'esteem the brittle glass.
+
+EQ. Madam, have patience, Dame Virtue must sustain,
+Until the heavenly powers do otherwise ordain.
+
+VIR. Equity, for my part, I envy not her state,
+Nor yet mislike the meanness of my simple rate.
+But what the heavens assign, that do I still think best:
+My fame was never yet by Fortune's frown opprest:
+Here, therefore, will I rest in this my homely bower,
+With patience to abide the storms of every shower.
+
+                                           [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+
+    _Enter_ TENACITY _and_ VANITY [_severally, and not
+    seeing each other at first_.[384]]
+
+TEN. By Gog's bores, these old stumps are stark tired.
+Chave here roundabout for life conquired,
+Where any posting nags were to be hired,
+And can get none, would they were all vired![385]
+Cham come too late for Money, I hold a penny,
+Suitors to Fortune there are so many;
+And all for Money, chill gage a round sum:
+Money is gone, before Tenacity come.
+Then am I dress'd even to my utter shame:
+A fool return'd, like as a fool I came.
+Cham sure chave come vorty miles and twenty,
+With all these bags you see and wallets empty:
+But when chave sued to Vortune vine and dainty,
+Ich hope to vill them up with money plenty:
+But here is one, of whom ich will conquire,
+Whilk way che might attain to my desire.
+God speed, my zon.
+
+VAN. What, father Crust, whither post you so fast?
+
+TEN. Nay, bur lady, zon, ich can make no haste,
+Vor che may say to thee, cham tired clean.
+
+VAN. More shame for you, to keep your ass so lean!
+But whither go you now?
+
+TEN. To a goodly lady, whom they call her Vortune.
+
+VAN. And wherefore?
+
+TEN. For money, zon, but ich vear che come too late.
+
+VAN. Indeed, it seemeth by thy beggar's state,
+Thou hast need of money; but let me hear,
+How or by whom think'st thou to get this gear?
+
+TEN. Chill speak her vair, chill make low cursy.
+
+VAN. That's somewhat; but how wilt thou come at her?
+
+TEN. Bur lady, zon, zest true; there lies the matter:
+Chill make some friend.
+
+VAN. Whom?
+
+TEN. Some man of hers, that near her doth attend.
+
+VAN. Who is that?
+
+TEN. Ich know not; chud that[386] inqueer of thee:
+And therefore, if thou knowest, tell it me.
+
+VAN. What, in such haste, forsooth, so suddenly:
+And so good cheap, without reward or fee?
+
+TEN. Poor men, dear zon, must crave of courtesy:
+Get I once money, thou shalt rewarded be.
+
+VAN. Go to, then, I'll tell thee: his name is Vanity.
+
+TEN. And where is a?
+
+VAN. No more ado: ask but for Vanity.
+Reward him well, he'll help thee to money.
+
+TEN. But where?
+
+VAN. Why, here in this place: this is Lady Fortune's palace.
+
+TEN. Is this? Ah, goodly Lord, how gay it is!
+Now hope I sure of money not to miss.
+So law, my zon, ich will go rest myself a while,
+And come again.    [_Exit_.
+
+VAN. Do so. Now sure this coistrel makes me smile,
+To see his greedy gaping thus for gain,
+First hardly got, then kept with harder pain,
+As you ere long by proof shall see full plain.
+
+TEN. This is mine old inn; here chill knock. Holla, ho!
+
+HOST. What roister have we there, that rappeth so?
+
+POST. How now, sirrah, what lack you?
+
+TEN. Lodging.
+
+POST. Lodging? there is none: all is full.
+
+TEN. How so?
+
+POST. Ta'en up by gentlemen long ago.
+
+TEN. Let me yet have some room for mine ass.
+
+POST. _Asinus super asinum, volitate ad furtas_!
+
+HOST. Who is that thou pratest therewithal?
+
+POST. Look forth and see: a lubber, fat, great and tall,
+Upon a tired ass, bare, short and small.
+
+HOST. Ho, ho! 'tis Tenacity, my old acquaintance.
+And to my wife of near alliance.
+Father Tenacity!
+
+TEN. Mine host, God speed!
+How do you? Take in, ostler.
+
+OSTLER. Anon, sir.
+
+HOST. Chamberlain, wait upon my kindred here.
+
+CHAM. I will, sir.
+
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+
+    _Enter_ MONEY _and_ VANITY.
+
+     _The Song_.
+
+MON. _As light as a fly,
+       In pleasant jollity:
+     With mirth and melody,
+       Sing Money, Money, Money!
+     Money the minion, the spring of all joy;
+     Money, the medicine that heals each annoy;
+     Money, the jewel that man keeps in store;
+     Money, the idol that women adore!
+     That Money am I, the fountain of bliss,
+     Whereof whoso tasteth, doth never amiss.
+           Money, money, money!
+           Sing Money, Money, Money_!
+
+VAN. What, Money, sing you so lustily?
+
+MON. I have none other cause: who would not sing merrily,
+Being, as I am, in such felicity:
+The God of this world, so mighty of power,
+As makes men, and mars men, and all in an hour?
+Yea, where I am, is all prosperity,
+And where I want, is nought but misery.
+
+VAN. Money saith reason; for so doth it fare,
+Money makes masteries, old proverbs declare.
+But, Money, of Fortune, our sovereign dame,
+What news?
+
+MONEY. Marry, sir, of purpose I hither came,
+To let thee know she will forthwith be here:
+And lo! already, see, she doth appear.
+
+VAN. 'Tis true; now must I show my diligence.
+Down, ladies, stoop: do your reverence.
+
+
+
+SCENE VI.
+
+
+    _Enter_ FORTUNE, _in her chariot drawn with Kings.
+
+    The Song.
+
+    Reverence, do reverence; fair dames, do reverence
+    Unto this goddess great, do humble reverence:
+            Do humble reverence.
+
+    Fortune, of-worldly state the governess:
+    Fortune, of man's delight the mistress:
+    Fortune, of earthly bliss the patroness:
+    Fortune, the spring of joy and happiness.
+    Lo, this is she, with twinkling of her eye,
+    That misers[387] can advance to dignity,
+    And princes turn to misers' misery.
+            Reverence, due reverence_.
+
+FOR. Report hath spread, that Virtue here in place
+Arrived is, her silly court to hold;
+And therefore I am come with faster pace,
+T'encounter her, whose countenance is so bold.
+I doubt not but by this my pompous shew,
+By vestures wrought with gold so gorgeously:
+By reverence done to me of high and low:
+By all these ornaments of bravery,
+By this my train, that now attends me so:
+By kings, that hale my chariot to and fro,
+Fortune is known the queen of all renown:
+That makes, that mars; sets up and throws adown.
+Well is it known, what contrary effects
+'Twixt Fortune and dame Virtue hath been wrought:
+How still I her contemn, she me rejects;
+I her despise, she setteth me at nought:
+So, as great wars are grown for sovereignty,
+And strife as great 'twixt us for victory.
+Now is the time of trial to be had,
+The place appointed eke in presence here.
+So as the truth to all sorts, good and bad,
+More clear than light shall presently appear.
+It shall be seen, what Fortune's power can do,
+When Virtue shall be forc'd to yield thereto.
+It shall be seen, when Virtue cannot bide,
+But shrink for shame, her silly face to hide.
+Then Fortune shall advance herself before,
+All harms to help, all losses to restore.
+But why do I myself thus long restrain
+From executing this I do intend?
+Time posts away, and words they be but vain;
+For deeds (indeed) our quarrel now must end.
+Therefore in place I will no longer stay
+But to my stately throne myself convey.
+
+              _Reverence, due reverence, &c_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT II, SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ LIBERALITY.
+
+How seldom is it seen, that Virtue is regarded,
+Or men of virtuous sort for virtuous deeds rewarded!
+So wonts the world to pamper those that nought deserve,
+Whiles such as merit best, without relief do starve.
+Great imperfections are in some of greatest skill,
+That colours can discern [not], white from black, good from ill.
+O blind affects of men, how are you led awry,
+To leave assured good, to like frail Vanity!
+If some of Virtue's train, for prince and country's good,
+To show their faithful hearts, shall hazard life and blood,
+And guerdonless depart, without their due reward,
+Small is th'encouragement, the example very hard.
+Where any well deserve, and are rewarded well,
+Where prince and people both in safety sure do dwell,
+Where he that truly serves, hath nothing for his pain,
+More hearts are lost, than pecks of gold can ransom home again.
+Let states therefore, that wish to maintain stately dignity,
+Seek to acquaint themselves with Liberality;
+For that is it which wins the subjects' faithful love,
+Which faithful love all harms from them and theirs remove.
+Liberality am I, Virtue's steward here,
+Who for the virtuous sort do nothing hold too dear.
+But few to Virtue seek: all sorts to Fortune fly,
+There seeking to maintain their chief prosperity.
+But whoso marks the end, shall be enforc'd to say:
+O Fortune, thou art blind! let Virtue lead the way.
+But who comes here? It seemeth, old Tenacity.
+I must away; for contraries cannot agree.
+                                           [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    _Enter_ TENACITY.
+
+TEN. Well, since che see there is none other boot,
+Chill now take pains to go the rest afoot;
+For Brock mine ass is saddle-pinch'd vull sore,
+And so am I even here--chill say no more.
+But yet I must my business well apply,
+For which ich came, that is, to get money.
+Chwas told that this is Lady Vortune's place:
+Chill go boldly to her, that's a vlat case;
+Vor, if che speed not now at this first glance,
+Cham zure to be dash'd quite out of countenance
+By certain lusty gallon lads hereby,
+Seeking Vortune's favour as well as I.
+O, knew I where to find Mast. Fanity,
+Vortune's servant! Of mine honesty,
+Look where he comes in time as fine and trim,
+As if che held him all this while by the chin.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+
+    VANITY _and_ TENACITY.
+
+VAN. 'Tis he indeed: what say you to him?
+
+TEN. Marry, sir, cham now come for money.
+
+VAN. For money, man? what, still so hastily?
+
+TEN. Yea[388], by gis, sir, 'tis high time, che vore ye;
+Cham aveard another will ha' 't afore me.
+
+VAN. Why so? who is it thou fearest? tell me.
+
+TEN. Marry, sir, they call him Mast. Prodigality.
+
+VAN. Prodigality, is it true? young, wasteful, roisting Prodigality,
+To encounter old, sparing, covetous, niggard Tenacity?
+Sure, such a match as needs must yield us sport:
+Therefore, until the time that Prodigality resort,
+I'll entertain this crust with some device--    [_aside_.
+Well, father, to be sped of money with a trice,
+What will you give me?
+
+TEN. Cha vore thee, son, do rid me quickly hence,
+Chill give thee a vair piece of three-halfpence.
+
+VAN. Indeed?
+
+TEN.         Here's my hand.
+
+VAN. Now, sir, in sooth you offer so bountifully,
+As needs you must be us'd accordingly.
+But tell me, know you him that cometh here?
+
+TEN. Cock's bores, 'tis Prodigality; 'tis he I did fear.
+Cham afraid che may go whistle now for money.
+
+VAN. Tush, man, be of good cheer, I warrant thee;
+He speedeth best, that best rewardeth me.
+
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+
+    _Enter_ PRODIGALITY, VANITY, TENACITY, HOST, FORTUNE, _and_ MONEY.
+
+HOST. Sir, now your reckoning is made even:
+I'll trust no more.
+
+PROD. No?
+
+HOST. No, sure.
+
+PROD. Set cock-on-hoop then; by some means, good or bad,
+There is no remedy, but money must be had.
+By the body of an ox, behold here this ass,
+Will be my familiar, wheresoever I pass.
+Why, goodman Crust, tell me, is there no nay,
+But where I go, you must forestal my way?
+
+TEN. By Gog's flesh and his flounders, sir, che hope the Queen's highway
+is free for euery man! for thee as me, for me as thee, for poor Tenacity
+as for proud Prodigality! chill go, in the Queen's peace, about my
+business.
+
+PROD. This way?
+
+TEN. Yea.
+
+PROD. To whom?
+
+TEN. To Vortune my mistress.
+
+PROD. Wherefore?
+
+TEN. That's no matter to you.
+
+PROD. No matter, sir? but, by your crustship, ere you go,
+'Tis a plain case, Prodigality will know:
+And therefore be round; come off, and tell me quickly.
+
+TEN. And thou'dst so vain know, che go for money.
+
+PROD. Out upon thee, villain, traitor, thief, pickpurse!
+Thou penurious knave, caterpillar, and what's worse?
+Hast thou heard me say, that for money I went,
+And couldst thou creep so closely my purpose to prevent?
+By the life I live, thou shalt die the death.
+Where shall I first begin? above or beneath?
+Say thy prayers, slave--
+
+VAN. How now, my friends, what needs this variance?
+Money comes not by force, money comes by chance;
+And sith at one instant you both seek for money,
+Appeal both to Fortune, and then shall you try,
+Whether either or neither may hit to have money.
+
+PROD. Gentleman, you say well: I know not your name;
+But indeed for that purpose to Fortune I came:
+For furtherance whereof if I might obtain
+Your friendly help, I would quit your pain.
+
+TEN. I am your old acquaintance, sir, remember me.
+
+VAN. Thee, quoth a? for thy large offers I may not forget thee.
+You be both my friends, and therefore indifferently
+I will commend you both to Fortune's courtesy.
+[_To_ FOR.] Lady most bright, renowmed goddess fair,
+Unto thy stately throne here do repair
+Two suitors of two several qualities,
+And qualities, indeed, that be mere contraries.
+That one is called wasteful Prodigality:
+This[389] one cleped covetous Tenacity.
+Both at once unto your royal majesty
+Most humbly make their suits for money.
+
+FOR. Let's hear what they can say.
+
+PROD. Divine goddess, behold, with all humility
+For money I appeal unto thy deity;
+Which, in high honour of thy majesty,
+I mean to spend abroad most plentifully.
+
+TEN. Sweet mistress, grant to poor Tenacity
+The keeping of this golden darling money:
+Chill vow to thee, so long as life shall dure,
+Under strong lock and key chill keep him vast and sure.
+
+VAN. Nay, pleaseth then your pleasant fantasy
+To hear them plead in musical harmony?
+
+FOR. It liketh me.
+
+PROD. None better.
+
+TEN. Well, though my singing be but homely,
+Chill sing and spring[390] too, ere chud loose money.
+
+VAN. Well, to it, a God's name; let saying go than;[391]
+And each sing for himself the best he can.
+
+      _The Song_.
+
+PROD. _The princely heart, that freely spends,
+      Relieves full many a thousand more,
+      He getteth praise, he gaineth friends,
+      And people's love procures therefore.
+      But pinching fist, that spareth all,
+      Of due relief the needy robs:
+      Nought can be caught, where nought doth fall,
+      There comes no good of greedy cobs.
+          This issue therefore do I make:
+          The best deserver draw the stake_.
+
+TEN.  Whilst thou dost spend with friend and foe,
+      At home che hold the plough by th' tail:
+      Che dig, che delve, che zet, che zow,
+      Che mow, che reap, che ply my flail.
+      A pair of dice is thy delight,
+      Thou liv'st for most part by the spoil:
+      I truly labour day and night
+      To get my living by my toil.
+          Chill therefore sure this issue make:
+          The best deserver draw the stake_.
+
+VAN. Hallo! _satis disputatum_.
+
+TEN. Nay, by my father's soul, friend, now chave once begun,
+Let him to't, che pass not when che done.
+
+PROD. Lo, Lady, you have heard our reasons both express'd,
+And thereby are resolv'd, I hope, who merits best.
+
+FOR. Dame Fortune dealeth not by merit, but by chance:
+He hath it but by hap, whom Fortune doth advance;
+And of his hap as he hath small assurance:
+So in his hap likewise is small continuance.
+Therefore at a venture, my dear son Money,
+I do commit you unto Prodigality.
+
+TEN. To Prodigality? Ah, poor Money, I pity thee;
+Continual unrest must be thy destiny:
+Each day, each hour, yea, every minute tost,
+Like to a tennis-ball, from pillar to post.
+
+MONEY. I am, where I like.
+
+TEN. [To VAN.] And is there, then, no other remedy?
+Must poor Tenacity put up the injury?
+
+VAN. Your time is not yet come.
+
+TEN. When will it come, trow ye?
+
+VAN. At the next turning water, happily.
+
+TEN. And che wist that, chud the more quietly depart,
+And keep therewhile a hungry hoping heart.
+How sayest thou, vriend Fanity?
+
+VAN. No doubt, but 'tis best.
+
+TEN. Then varewell to all at once.    [_Exit_.
+
+PROD. Good night and good rest.
+And now will I likewise with my sweet Money
+Go hunt abroad for some good company.
+Vanity, for thy pains I will not grease thy fist
+Peltingly[392] with two or three crowns; but, when thou list,
+Come boldly unto Prodigality's chest,
+And take what thou wilt; it's ever open.
+
+VAN. I thank you, sir; 'tis honourably spoken.
+
+PROD. Yet, ere I go, with song of joyfulness
+Let me to Fortune show my thankfulness.
+
+    _The Song.
+
+    Verse to_ FORTUNE.
+
+    _Thou that dost guide the world by thy direction,
+    Thou that dost conquer states to thy subjection,
+    Thou that dost keep each king in thy correction,
+    Thou that preservest all in thy protection,
+    For all thy gifts unto thy majesty
+    I yield both thanks and praise immortally:
+                        To mighty Fortune, &c.
+
+    Verse to_ MONEY.
+
+    _Sweet Money, the minion that sails with all winds,
+    Sweet Money, the minstrel that makes merry all minds,
+    Sweet Money, that gables of bondage unbinds,
+    Sweet Money, that maintains all sports of all kinds,
+    This is that sweet Money, that rules like a king,
+    And makes me all praises of Money to sing
+
+                                               [Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT III., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ DANDALINE, _the hostess_.
+
+DAN. Now, i'faith, ye little peevish harlotry,[393]
+I'll one day make you spit your meat more handsomely.
+By my truth, truly had I not come in the rather,
+She had laid me to the fire the loin of veal and capon both together,
+Not weighing (like an unwitty girlish mother),
+That the one would ask more roasting than the other;
+So that either the veal had been left stark raw,
+Or else the capon burnt, and so not worth a straw.
+And that had been pity: for I assure you at a word,
+A better bird, a fairer bird, a finer bird:
+A sweeter bird, a younger bird, a tenderer bird:
+A daintier bird, a crisper bird, a more delicate bird:
+Was there never set upon any gentleman's board.
+But I lack my guests, that should pay for this gear:
+And sure my mind gives me, I should find them here,
+Two of mine acquaintance, familiar grown,
+The third to me yet a gentleman unknown,
+More than by hearsay, that he is fresh and lusty,
+Full of money, and by name Prodigality.
+Now, sir, to link him sure to his hostess Dandaline,
+Dandaline must provide to have all things very fine.
+And therefore already it is _definitum_,
+The gentleman shall want nothing may please his _appetitum_.
+And because most meats unsauced are motives to drouth,
+He shall have a lemon to moisten his mouth,
+A lemon I mean; no lemon I trow;
+Take heed, my fair maids, you take me not so.
+For though I go not as grave as my grandmother,
+Yet I have honesty as well as another.
+But hush, now shall I hear some news.
+
+                                      [_Manet_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    _Enter_ TOM TOSS, DICK DICER.[394]
+
+DICER. Fellow Tomkin, I think this world is made of flint;
+There's neither money, nor wares worth money, in't.
+
+TOSS. Hold thy peace, Dick, it cannot still keep at this stint:
+We are now lighted upon such a mint,
+As (follow it well) I dare warrant thee,
+Thy turn shall be served in every degree.
+
+DAND. Dick boy, mine own boy, how dost thou? what cheer?
+
+DICER. What, Dandeline, mine hostess, what make you here?
+
+DAND. I came of purpose to inquire for thee.
+
+DICER. And I came of purpose to seek Prodigality.
+
+DAND. What, he you told me of? indeed, is it he?
+
+DICER. Ay, of my fidelity.
+
+DAND. A good boy, of mine honesty.
+But when come ye?
+
+DICER. As soon as I can find him.
+
+DAND. Seek him, good Dick, and find him speedily:
+For this, I assure ye, your supper is ready.
+
+DICER. Go home before, make all things very fine.
+
+DAND. I will. Farewell.
+
+DICER. Farewell.
+
+DAND. Farewell to Tomkin, too?
+
+TOSS. Farewell, sweet Dandaline.
+
+DAND. But, hear ye? bring him.
+
+DICER. Who?
+
+DAND. Tush, a God's name, you know who!
+I mean the gentleman.
+
+DICER. Go to, go to.    [DANDALINE _exit_.
+Tom, now to the purpose where first we began.
+
+TOSS. Cast care away, Dick; I'll make thee a man.
+
+DICER. A gospel in thy mouth, Tom, for it never went worse.
+Master Money hath left me never a penny in my purse.
+
+TOSS. 'Twill be better, Dick, shalt see, very shortly.
+
+DICER. I pray thee, tell me is this brave Prodigality,
+So full of money as he is said to be?
+
+TOSS. Full, quotha? he is too full, I promise thee.
+
+DICER. And will he lash it out so lustily?
+
+TOSS. Exceedingly, unreasonably, unmeasureably.
+
+DICER. Then may such mates as we, that be so bare,
+Hope some way or other to catch a share.
+
+TOM. Assure thyself that; but whist, he cometh here:
+Let's entertain him with familiar cheer.
+
+DICER. In order, then, bravely.
+
+                              [_Retire_.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+
+    _Enter_ PRODIGALITY, _with_ MONEY.
+
+PROD. How is't, my sweet Money, shall we be lusty now?
+
+MON. Be as lusty as you will. I'll be as lusty as you.
+
+PROD. Who lacks money, ho! who lacks money?
+But ask and have: money, money, money!
+
+DICER. Sir, here be they that care not for your money,
+So much as for your merry company.
+
+PROD. And company is it I seek assuredly.
+
+TOSS. Then here be companions to fit your fantasy,
+And at all assays to answer your desire:
+To go, to run, to stay, to do, as you require.
+
+PROD. What can I wish more? well then, I pray,
+What sports, what pastimes, shall we first assay?
+
+TOSS. Marry, first, sir, we both pray you heartily,
+To take a poor supper with us here hard by,
+Where we will determine by common consent,
+What pastimes are fittest for us to frequent.
+
+PROD. I grant.
+
+DICER. Then, if you please, with some sweet roisting harmony
+Let us begin the utas[395] of our jollity.
+
+PROD. Thou hitt'st my hand pat. Money, what say'st thou?
+
+MON. I say that I like it: go to it, I pray you.
+
+PROD. Shall I begin?
+
+MON. Yea.
+
+PROD. Then surely shall it be,
+To thee, for thee, and in honour of thee.
+
+    _The Song.
+
+    Sweet Money, the minion that sails with all winds,
+    Sweet Money, the minstrel, that makes merry minds.
+        Flitozolaknops_[396]
+
+                                            [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+
+    _Enter_ LIBERALITY.
+
+LIB. The more a man with virtuous dealing doth himself inure,
+The less with worldly business he is molested sure;
+Which maketh proof that, as turmoils still toss the worldly mind:
+So minds exempt from worldly toil desired quiet find.
+And chiefly, where the life is led in virtuous exercise,
+There is no toil, but ease and contentation to the wise.
+But what account, how slight regard, is had of virtue here,
+By actions on this worldly stage most plainly doth appear.
+Men see without most just desert of virtue nought is got,
+To Fortune therefore fly they still, that giveth all by lot;
+And finding Fortune's gifts so pleasant, sweet, and savoury,
+They build thereon, as if they should endure perpetually.
+But this is sure, and that most sure, that Fortune is unsure,
+Herself most frail, her gifts as frail, subject to every shower:
+And in the end, who buildeth most upon her surety,
+Shall find himself cast headlong down to depth of misery.
+Then having felt the crafty sleights of Fortune's fickle train,
+Is forc'd to seek by virtue's aid to be relieved again.
+This is the end; run how he list, this man of force must do,
+Unless his life be clean cut off, this man must come unto:
+In time, therefore, man might do well to care for his estate,
+Lest, letted by extremity, repentance come too late.
+
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+
+    _Enter to_ LIBERALITY CAPTAIN WELL-DONE.
+
+CAP. W. Sir, I beseech you, speak a good word for me to the prince,
+That by her letters I may be commended to some province,
+Where service is to be had, either there to die with fame,
+Or else to get me somewhat, whereon to live without shame;
+For beg I cannot, and steal I may not, the truth is so;
+But need doth make, the proverb say'th, th'old wife to trot for woe.
+Yet whom stark need doth pinch, at length the devil drives to go:
+Therefore, I beseech you, pity his extremity,
+That would not make this suit without necessity.
+
+LIB. Who be you, my friend?
+
+CAP. W. By birth a gentleman, by profession a soldier,
+Who, though I say it, in all our sovereign's war,
+With hazard of my blood and life have gone as far,
+As haply some others, whose fortunes have been better:
+But I in service yet could never be a getter,
+Ne can I impute it but to mine own destiny:
+For well I know the prince is full of liberality.
+
+LIB. What is your name, sir?
+
+CAP. W. My name is Well-done.
+
+LIB. Are you Captain Well-done?
+
+CAP. W. Though unworthy, sir, I bear that name.
+
+LIB. Give me your hand, Captain Well-done, for your fame
+In feats of arms and service of your country
+I have heard oft; you have deserved greatly;
+Therefore think this that, as you merit much,
+So the consideration thereof shall be such,
+As duly doth pertain to your desert.
+Trust me, the prince herself, unmoved of my part,
+Your dutiful service hath specially regarded,
+And expressly commands that it be well rewarded
+Wherefore you shall not need to seek service abroad:
+I exhort you at home still to make your abode:
+That if in this realm occasions of wars be offered,
+You and others your like may be employed.
+
+CAP. W. My duty binds me to obey.
+
+LIB. Then for this time you shall not need to stay.
+As for your cause, I will remember it,
+And see it holpen too, as shall be fit.
+
+                                 [_Exit_ WELL-DONE.
+
+LIB. Truly, if I should not have care of this man's necessity,
+I should both swerve from virtue and from honesty.
+
+
+
+SCENE VI.
+
+
+    _Enter to_ LIBERALITY _a_ COURTIER.
+
+COUR. Sir, I humbly beseech you help to prefer my suit.
+
+LIB. What is it?
+
+COUR. There is an office fall'n, which I would gladly execute.
+
+LIB. Who be you?
+
+COUR. A servant here in court.
+
+LIB. Do you serve the prince?
+
+COUR. No, and please you.
+
+LIB. Whom then?
+
+COUR. A nobleman near about her majesty.
+
+LIB. In what degree?
+
+COUR. Forsooth, sir, as his secretary.
+
+LIB. How long have you served?
+
+COUR. A year or twain.
+
+LIB. And would you so soon be preferred?
+In sooth, my friend, I would be glad, as I may,
+To do you any good: but this I say:
+Who seeks by virtue preferment to attain,
+In virtuous proceeding must take more pain,
+Than can be well taken in a year or twain.
+For time gives experience of every man's deeds,
+And each man by merit accordingly speeds.
+Go forward, my friend, in virtue with diligence,
+And time, for your service, shall yield you recompence.
+Your lord and master is very honourable,
+And him in your suits you shall find favourable:
+And as for my part, as erst I did say,
+I never will hinder, where further I may.
+Let this for this time be your answer.
+
+COUR. Sir, with my boldness, I beseech you to bear.
+
+LIB. God be with you.    [_Exit_ COURTIER.
+Some men deserve, and yet do want their due;
+Some men, again, on small deserts do sue,
+It therefore standeth princes' officers in hand,
+The state of every man rightly to understand,
+That so by balance of equality
+Each man may have his hire[397] accordingly.
+Well, since dame Virtue unto me doth charge of many things refer,
+I must go do that best beseems a faithful officer.
+
+                                          [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT IV., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ MONEY.
+
+MON. _Liberty, liberty_! now I cry _liberty_!
+Catch me again, when you can, Prodigality!
+Never was there poor soul so cruelly handled.
+I was at the first, like a cockney[398] dandled,
+Strok'd on the head, kiss'd and well cherished,
+And so thought surely I should have continued:
+But now, how my case is altered suddenly!
+You would not believe, unless you saw it apparently.
+I'faith, since ye saw me, I have been turmoiled
+From post to pillar: see how I am spoiled.
+The villains among them provided the roast;
+But Money was forced to pay for the cost
+Both of their feasting and of their chamber cheer.
+Yea, in every place they have fleec'd me so near:
+He a fleece, and she a fleece, that nothing could I keep,
+But glad to run away like a new-shorn sheep.
+And though I have been pinched very near,
+I am glad to see you in good health, every one here:
+And now I have escaped the traitorous treachery
+Of such a thriftless, roisting company,
+To my mother in haste again I will get me,
+And keep at home safely: from thence let them fet me.
+                                              [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    _Enter_ VANITY _and_ MONEY.
+
+VAN. What, Master Money, how goeth the world with you?
+
+MON. Look but upon me, thou may'st quickly judge how.
+
+VAN. Why, where the vengeance, where the devil hast thou been?
+Among brambles or briars? or spirits, sure, I ween.
+
+MON. Both ween it and wot it! I have pass'd a wilderness
+Of most mischievous and miserable distress;
+Sharp brambles, sharp briars, and terrible scratchers,
+Bears, wolves, apes, lions, most ravening snatchers,
+Thorns, thistles, and nettles, most horrible stingers,
+Ravens, gripes and griphons. O vengeable wringers,
+Yea through my whole passage such damnable sights,
+As I cannot but judge them most damnable sprites.
+
+VAN. Ha, ha, ha, ha!
+
+MON. Laugh ye, my friend? It is no laughing toy.
+
+VAN. But who did guide you in this labyrinth of joy?
+
+MON. Who, sir? your minion, sir; Prodigality,
+The captain elected of all roisting knavery;
+He will be hang'd, I warrant him, shortly.
+
+VAN. Ha, ha, ha, ha!
+
+MON. Yet go to, laugh on!
+
+VAN. Are you not a cuck--cuck-cold?
+
+MON. I may be indeed; my clothes be but thin,
+And therefore I will even go get me in,
+That Fortune, my mother, may clothe me anew.    [_Exit_.
+
+VAN. Do so, you had need so, I may say to you.
+Now, sure, it is a world of worlds to see,
+How all the world inclines to Vanity;
+Men seek at first--that is but Vanity,
+And lose at last--that was but Vanity,
+And yet continue still to follow Vanity,
+As though it were a thing of certainty.
+And I, that bear the name of Vanity,
+And see the world's exceeding Vanity,
+In following so the tracks of Vanity,
+Do triumph still amid my empery,
+And laugh at their simplicity,
+That will be so misled by Vanity.
+But who is this? O, I know him, a scholar of our train,
+'Tis Hob-a-Clunch, that comes for money again.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+
+    _Enter to_ VANITY, TENACITY, FORTUNE, _and_ MONEY.
+
+TEN. God speed, Master Fanity.
+
+VAN. Wocum,[399] Master Tenacity.
+
+TEN. Sur, cham come once again vor money.
+
+VAN. So me thinks.
+
+TEN. Shall be sped now at length, trow ye?
+
+VAN. I cannot tell ye, 'tis hard to say;
+Peradventure yea, peradventure nay.
+
+TEN. How so, man?
+
+VAN. I fear me you will spend him too fast away.
+
+TEN. Ho, ho, ho, ho! dost thou vear that, friend Fanity?
+Shalt not need, man, chill keep him safe, che warrant thee.
+O, that chad him in my clutches, shouldst see, I trow,
+Whether chud keep him vast and safe, or no.
+I pray thee, good sweet Master Fanity,
+Speak one good word for poor Tenacity.
+
+VAN. And dost thou indeed so well love money?
+
+TEN. Do my wife's bees at home, think'st thou, love honey?
+
+VAN. What wouldst thou do with it?
+
+TEN. [_Hesitating_.] Chud, chud, chud, chud--
+
+VAN. _Chud, chud_! what _chud_?
+
+TEN. Chud--do no harm at all.
+
+VAN. No, nor much good, I think, to great nor small.
+But well, put case, I procure thee to speed,
+You will remember your promise that I shall be fee'd.
+
+TEN. God's vast, man, yea, chill do it, chill do it.
+
+VAN. Stand there a while, and wait.
+[_To_ FORTUNE.] Bright goddess, behold here again Tenacity,
+That humbly makes his suit to have money.
+
+MON. For Money? ho, there! Money finds himself well:
+Money now hath no liking from Fortune to dwell.
+
+VAN. _In vanum laboraverunt_, come.
+
+TEN. Now, good soot', honey, vair golden mustress,
+Let poor Tenacity taste of thy goodness:
+Thee che honour, thee che serve, thee che reverence,
+And in thy help che put my whole confidence.
+
+FOR. Money, you must go to him, there is no remedy.
+
+MON. Yea, and be us'd as before with Prodigality!
+
+TEN. Let Prodigality go to the gallows-tree!
+Why, man, he and I are clean contrary.
+I chill coll thee, chill cuss thee.
+
+MON, So did he.
+
+TEN. Chill save thee, chill spare thee, chill keep thee from wasting.
+
+MON. So did not he.
+Go to then, seeing that my mother's will is such,
+To put it in adventure I may not grutch.
+
+TEN. O my sweeting, my darling, my chewel, my joy,
+My pleasure, my treasure, mine own pretty boy.
+
+MON. How now? what mean you by this, Tenacity.
+
+TEN. O, forbid me not to kiss my sweet Money.
+Varewell, Vortune; and, Vortune, che thank thee alway.
+Come on, surrah, chill make you vast, bum vay.
+
+MON. What, with ropes? what needs that?
+
+TEN. Vor vear of robbing by the highway.
+_La, mi, fa, sol, fa; sol, mi, fa, re, mi_.
+
+    [_Exit_ TENACITY, _and goeth to the inn for his ass_.
+
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+
+    _Enter_ PRODIGALITY, DICK DICER, VANITY, _and_
+    [_to them afterwards_] TOM TOSS.
+
+PROD. O monstrous, vile, filthy luck! see, in the twinkling of an eye,
+Scarce knowing which way, I have quite lost my Money.
+
+DICK. Out of all doubt, Prodigality, he is not gone yonder way.
+
+PROD. Then seek some other course, make here no stay.
+He must be found out, there is no remedy.
+Thou know'st in what pickle we stand without Money.
+
+DICK. Why, sure, Prodigality, it can be no other,
+But he is returned to Fortune his mother.
+
+PROD. Thinkest thou so?
+Thou, Fortune, hearest thou? by fair means, I advise thee,
+Restore my Money to me again: deal plainly and wisely;
+Or by this sharp-edged sword, shalt see me play a proud part,
+For I will have him again, in spite of thy heart.
+
+VAN. Whom have we there, that keepeth such a coil.
+
+PROD. Even he that will not put up such a foil.
+
+VAN. What's the matter?
+
+PROD. Vanity, to that dame thy mistress commend me,
+Tell her--tell her, it doth not a little offend me,
+To have my money in such great despite,
+Taken so from me without any right.
+What though it were once her own proper gift?
+Yet given, 'tis mine own, there is no other shift.
+Therefore charge her, in the name of Prodigality,
+That he be restor'd to me incontinently,
+Lest she repent it--
+
+VAN. These be sore and cruel threat'nings, marry.
+Is your haste so great, that by no means you may tarry?
+
+PROD. I will not tarry, and therefore make haste.
+
+VAN. Soft, sir, a little, there is no time pass'd.
+You may tarry, you must tarry, for aught as I know:
+Nay, then you shall tarry, whether you will or no.
+                                            [_Exit_.
+
+DICER. 'Zwounds, sir, he mocks you.
+
+PROD. Gibe not with me, you whoreson rascal slave!
+For money I come, and money will I have.
+Sirrah Vanity, Vanity! What, Vanity!
+Speak and be hang'd, Vanity! What, will't not be?
+
+DICER. What a prodigious knave, what a slave is this?    [_Aside_.
+
+PROD. Fortune, fine Fortune, you minion, if ye be wise,
+Bethink ye betimes, take better advice:
+Restore unto me my money quietly,
+Else look for wars: Vanity, Fortune, Vanity!
+
+DICER. Sir, you see it booteth not.
+
+PROD. It is but my ill-luck.
+Now the devil and his dam give them both suck!
+What may we do? what counsel giv'st thou, Dick?
+
+DICER. Marry, sir, be rul'd by me; I'll show you a trick,
+How you may have him quickly.
+
+PROD. As how?
+
+DICER. Scale the walls: in at the window; by force fet him.
+
+PROD. None better, in faith; fetch a ladder, and I will set him.
+Fortune, thou injurious dame, thou shalt not by this villany
+Have cause to triumph over Prodigality.
+Why speak'st thou not? why speak'st thou not, I say?
+Thy silence doth but breed thine own hurt and decay.
+
+DICER. Here is a ladder.
+
+PROD. Set it to.
+
+    [_Here_ PRODIGALITY _scaleth_; FORTUNE _claps a halter
+    about his neck; he breaketh the halter, and falls_.
+
+PROD. 'Swounds! help, Dick: help quickly, or I am chok'd!
+
+DICER. God-a-mercy, good halter, or else you had been yok'd!
+
+PROD. O thou vile, ill-favoured, crow-trodden, pye-pecked ront!
+Thou abominable, blind foul-filth,[400] is this thy wont:
+First, maliciously to spoil men of their good,
+And then by subtle sleights thus to seek their blood?
+I abhor thee--I defy thee, wheresoever I go;
+I do proclaim myself thy mortal foe.
+
+    [_Enter_ TOM TOSS.][401]
+
+TOM TOSS. News, Prodigality, news!
+
+DICER. Good, and God will?
+
+PROD. What news, Tom?
+
+TOSS. I have met with Money.
+
+PROD. Where?
+
+TOSS. Marry, sir, he is going into a strange country
+With an old chuff, called Tenacity.
+
+PROD. Tenacity? is that tinker's budget so full of audacity?
+
+TOSS. 'Tis true.
+
+PROD. May we not overtake him?
+
+TOSS. Yes, easily with good horses.
+
+PROD. Let's go then, for God's sake; we'll catch him in a trap.
+
+DICER _and_ TOSS. Go; we will go with you, whatever shall hap.
+
+                                                     [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+
+    _Enter_ VANITY.[402]
+
+VAN. O rotten rope, that thou must be so brittle!
+Hadst thou but happened to have held a little,
+I had taught my princocks against another time
+So to presume Dame Fortune's bower to climb.
+To make such a 'scape, his hap was very good:
+Well, he 'scaped fair, I swear by the rood:
+But will you have me say my fantasy,
+_Quod differtur, non aufertur_; for assuredly
+The gentleman will never hold himself quiet,
+Till once more he come to taste of this diet.
+Mark the end.
+
+FOR. Vanity!    [_From a window_.
+
+VAN. Madam.
+
+FOR. Is this roister gone?
+
+VAN. Yea, madam, he is gone.
+
+FOR. Then get thee anon,
+And cause my attendants to come away,
+For here as now I will no longer stay,
+But prosecute this foe of mine so fast
+By mischiefs all I may, that at the last
+He shall arrive unto a wretched end,
+And with repentance learn how to offend
+A goddess of my state and dignity.
+
+VAN. Lady, to do your will I hasten willingly.
+                                [VANITY _exit_.
+
+    FORTUNE _comes down_.
+
+FOR. Dame Fortune's power, her most exceeding might,
+Is known by this as an undoubted thing:
+Since here most plainly hath appear'd in sight,
+How all the world doth hang upon her wing,
+How high and low, of all states and degrees,
+Do rise and fall again, as she decrees.
+Then let not Virtue think it scorn to yield
+To Fortune, chief of power, chief sovereignty:
+Sith Fortune here by proof hath won the field,
+Subdu'd her foes, and got the victory:
+For as she list to favour, else to frown,
+She hoisteth up, or headlong hurleth down.
+
+    [_Enter_ VANITY _again_.][403]
+
+VAN. Madam, here are your vassals ready prest,
+To do the thing that Fortune liketh best.
+
+FOR. Well, then, come on to witness this our victory;
+Depart we hence with sound of fame triumphantly.
+
+                [_Cries of Reverence, due reverence_!
+
+
+
+
+ACT V., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ PRODIGALITY, MONEY, TOSS, DICER.
+
+PROD. [_to_ MONEY.] Come on, my bulchin;[404] come on, my fat ox:[405]
+Come, porkling, come on; come, pretty twattox.[406]
+Why, will it not be? yet faster, a cur'sy![407]
+This gentleman of late is waxen so pursy,
+As at every land's-end he seeketh to rest him.
+How think ye? hath not Tenacity trimly dress'd him?
+
+MON. Prodigality, if thou lovest me, let us here stay:
+For sure I can do no more than I may.
+I am out of breath, as weary as a dog.
+                      [_He falls down upon his elbow_.
+
+TOSS. A luskish lubber, as fat as a hog!
+
+PROD. Come up, gentle Money; we may not here stay.
+
+MON. I must needs, Prodigality, there is no nay;
+For if I should stir me one inch from the ground,
+I think I shall die, sure, or fall in a sound.[408]
+
+PROD. Then must you be drawn.
+
+MON. Drawn or hang'd, all is one:
+For I cannot stir me; my breath is clean gone.
+
+PROD. How like ye this _grossum corpus_, so mightily grown?
+
+TOSS. I like him the better, that he is your own.
+
+DICER. A more monstrous beast, a beast more unwieldy,
+Since first I was born, yet[409] never beheld I.
+
+PROD. Indeed, the whoreson is waxen somewhat too fat;
+But we will find medicines to remedy that.
+
+TOSS. Sir, let me but have him a little in cure,
+To put my poor practice of physic in ure,
+And I dare warrant ye, with a purgation or twain,
+I'll quickly rid him out of all this pain.
+
+PROD. I think a glister were better.
+
+DICER. Nay, rather a suppository.
+
+TOSS. Nay, then, what say you to letting of blood?
+
+DICER. I think that some of these should do him good.
+Ask the physician.
+
+MON. Prodigality?
+
+PROD. Ho!
+
+MON. I am sick.
+
+PROD. Where, man?
+
+MON. Faith, here, in my belly.
+It swells, I assure ye, out of all measure.
+
+PROD. Take heed it grow not to a timpany.
+
+MON. And if it do, what is the danger then?
+
+PROD. A consumption.
+
+MON. A consumption? marry, God forbid, man.
+
+TOSS. What think you now of Tenacity?
+Was he your friend or your foe?
+
+MON. Ah, that wretch Tenacity hath brought me to all this woe.
+'Twas he, indeed, that sought to destroy me,
+In that he would never use or employ[410] me:
+But, Prodigality, sweet Prodigality,
+Help to provide some present remedy:
+Let me not be thus miserably spilt;
+Ease me of this, and use me as thou wilt.
+Yet had I rather live in state bare and thin,
+Than in this monstrous plight that now I am in:
+So fatty, so foggy, so out of all measure,
+That in myself I take no kind of pleasure.
+
+PROD. Why, rise up then quickly, and let us be gone.
+
+MON. Friends, you must help me, I cannot rise alone.
+
+DICER. Come on, my sweet Money, we must have a mean
+To turn this foggy fat to a finer lean.
+
+MON. The sooner the better.
+
+TOSS. Nay, Money, doubt not, but by sweat or by vomit
+I warrant thee, boy, shortly thou shalt be rid from it.
+
+PROD. Rid, quotha? if shaving, or boxing, or scouring,
+Or 'nointing, or scraping, or purging, or blood-letting,
+Or rubbing, or paring, or chafing, or fretting,
+Or ought else will rid it, he shall want no ridding.    [_Aside_.
+Come on, Money, let's be jogging!
+
+                         _Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    PRODIGALITY, DICER, &c., _to whom enter_ CONSTABLE,
+    _making hue and cry, and_ HOST.[411]
+
+CON. Thieves, neighbours, thieves! come forth, beset the country.
+
+PROD. Hark! list a while, what might this clamour be?
+
+DICER. 'Zwounds, we are undone, Prodigality;
+The constables come after with hue and cry.
+
+TOSS. O Cerberus, what shall we do?
+
+PROD. Stand back, lie close, and let them pass by.
+
+                                    [_They retire_.
+
+CON. Thieves, thieves! O vile, O detestable deed!
+Thieves, neighbours! come forth, away, abroad with speed.
+Where dwell these constables?
+
+HOST. Why? what's the matter, friend, I pray?
+
+CON. Why, thieves, man, I tell thee, come away.
+
+HOST. Thieves, i'faith? Wife! my scull, my jack, my brown bill.
+
+CON. Come away quickly.
+
+HOST. Dick, Tom, Will, ye whoresons, make ye all ready, and haste;
+But let me hear, how stands the case?
+                        [_Follows_ CONSTABLE.[412]
+
+CON. Marry, sir, here-by. Not far from this place,
+A plain simple man, riding on his ass,
+Meaning home to his country in God's peace to pass,
+By certain roisters, most furious and mad,
+Is spoiled and robbed of all that he had.
+And yet not contented, when they had his money,
+But the villains have also murdered him most cruelly.
+
+HOST. Good God, for his mercy!
+
+CON. It was my hap to come then present[ly] by him,
+And found him dead, with twenty wounds upon him.
+
+HOST. But what became of them?
+
+CON. They fled this way.
+
+HOST. Then, neighbour, let us here no longer stay,
+But hence and lay the country roundabout:
+They shall be quickly found, I have no doubt.
+
+                                        [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+
+    _Enter_ VIRTUE _and_ EQUITY, _with other attendants_.
+
+VIR. My lords, you see how far this worldly state perverted is;
+From good declin'd, inclined still to follow things amiss:
+You see but very few that make of Virtue any price:
+You see all sorts with hungry wills run headlong into vice.
+
+EQ. We see it oft, we sorrow much, and heartily lament,
+That of himself man should not have a better government.
+
+VER. The very beasts that be devoid of reason, dull and dumb,
+By nature learn to shun those things whereof their hurt may come.
+If man were then but as a beast, only by nature taught,
+He would also by nature learn to shun what things are nought.
+But man with reason is endued: he reason hath for stay;
+Which reason should restrain his will from going much astray.
+
+EQ. Madam, 'tis true:
+Where reason rules, there is the golden mean.
+
+VER. But most men stoop to stubborn will,
+Which conquereth reason clean.
+
+EQ. And will again to fancy yields,
+Which twain be special guides,
+That train a man to tread ill paths,
+Where ease and pleasure bides.
+
+VER. No ease, no pleasure, can be good, that is not got with pains.
+
+EQ. That is the cause from Virtue's love
+Man's fancy still refrains.
+
+VER. And pains, I think, they feel likewise,
+That unto vice do bend.
+
+EQ. They feel, no doubt: but yet such pains
+Come not before the end.
+
+VIR. I grieve for man, that man should be of ill attempts so[413] fain.
+
+EQ. Grieve not for that: evil tasted once, turns him to good again.
+
+VIR. Then will I take a cheerful mind,
+Unpleasant thoughts expel,
+And cares for man commit to them,
+That in the heavens do dwell.
+
+EQ. Do so, dear madam, I beseech you most heartily,
+And recreate yourself, before you go hence, with some sweet melody.
+
+    _The Song.
+
+    If pleasure be the only thing,
+    That man doth seek so much:
+    Chief pleasures rest, where virtue rules:
+    No pleasure[s] can be such.
+
+    Though Virtue's ways be very strait,
+    Her rocks be hard to climb:
+    Yet such as do aspire thereto,
+    Enjoy all joys in time.
+
+    Plain is the passage unto vice,
+    The gaps lie wide to ill:
+    To them that wade through lewdness' lake
+    The ice is broken still.
+
+    This therefore is the difference,
+    The passage first seems hard
+    To Virtue's train; but then most sweet
+    At length is their reward.
+
+    To those again, that follow vice,
+    The way is fair and plain;
+    But fading pleasures in the end
+    Are bought with lasting[414] pain.
+
+    If pleasure be the only thing, &c_.
+
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+
+    _Enter_ VIRTUE, EQUITY, LIBERALITY, MONEY, _and the_ SHERIFF.
+
+VIR. Now, my lords, I see no cause but that depart we may.
+
+EQ. Madam, to that shall like you best we willingly obey.
+
+LIB. Yet,[415] lady, stay awhile, and hear of strange adventures.
+
+VIR. Of what adventures tell you? let us know.
+
+LIB. Master Sheriff, of that is happened do you make show.
+
+SHER. Then, may it please you, the effect is this:
+There is a certain roister, named Prodigality,
+That long about this town hath ruffled in great jollity!
+A man long suspected of very lewd behaviour,
+Yet standing ever so high in Fortune's favour,
+As never till now he could be bewrayed
+Of any offence, that to him might be laid:
+Now wanting (belike) his wonted bravery,
+He thought to supply it by murther and robbery.
+
+EQ. By murther and robbery?
+
+SHER. Yea, sure.
+
+VIR. How?
+
+SHER. This gallant, I tell you, with other lewd franions,
+Such as himself, unthrifty companions,
+In most cruel sort, by the highway-side,
+Assaulted a countryman as he homewards did ride:
+Robbed him, and spoiled him of all that they might,
+And lastly bereav'd him of his life outright.
+
+VIR. O horrible fact!
+
+SHER. The country hereupon rais'd hue and try straightway:
+He is apprehended, his fellows fled away.
+I supplying, though unworthy, for this year
+The place of an officer, and sheriff of the shire,
+To my prince's use, have seized on his money,
+And bring you the same, according to my duty:
+Praying the party may have the law with speed,
+That others may be terrified from so foul a deed.
+
+VIR. So horrible a fact can hardly plead for favour:
+Therefore go you, Equity, examine more diligently
+The manner of this outrageous robbery:
+And as the same by examination shall appear,
+Due justice may be done in presence here.
+
+EQ. It shall be done, madam.
+
+SHER. Then, madam, I pray you, appoint some officer to take the money,
+That I may return again with Equity.
+
+VIR. Let it be delivered to my steward Liberality.
+
+                                         [_Exeunt_.
+
+LIB. What, Money? how come you to be so fat and foggy?
+
+MON. Surely, sir, by the old chuff, that miser Tenacity.
+
+LIB. How so?
+
+MON. He would never let me abroad to go,
+But lock'd me up in coffers, or in bags bound me fast,
+That, like a boar in a sty, he fed me at last,
+Thus Tenacity did spoil me for want of exercise:
+But Prodigality, clean contrariwise,
+Did toss me and fleece me, so bare and so thin,
+That he left nothing on me but very bone and skin.
+
+LIB. Well, Money, will you bide with him that can devise
+To rid you and keep you from these extremities?
+
+MON. Who is that?
+
+LIB. Even myself, Liberality.
+
+MON. Sir, I like you well, and therefore willingly
+I am contented with you to remain,
+So as you protect me from the other twain.
+
+LIB. I warrant thee.
+First, from thy bands I'll set thee free,
+And after thy sickness cured shall be.
+
+MON. Thanks and obedience I yield and vow to Liberality.
+
+                                          [_Exit_ MONEY.
+
+    _Enter_ CAPTAIN WELL-DONE [_and other_ SUITORS.]
+
+CAP. W. My lord, according to your appointment and will,
+I come to attend your pleasure.
+
+LIB. Have you brought your bill?[416]
+
+CAP. W. Yea, my lord.
+
+LIB. Give it me.
+I'll be your mean unto the prince, that it may despatched be:
+The while take here these hundred crowns, to relieve ye.
+
+CAP. W. God save the queen, and God save Liberality!
+
+2D SUITOR. Sir, I have long served the prince at great expense,
+And long have I been promised a recompense:
+I beseech you consider of me.
+
+LIB. What, do you serve without fee?
+
+2D SUITOR. Yea, truly, sir.
+
+LIB. Hold, pray for the queen.    [_Gives him money_.]
+
+2D SUITOR. It shall be my prayer day and night truly:
+God save the queen, and God save Liberality!
+
+3D SUITOR. Now, good my lord, vouchsafe of your charity
+To cast here aside your faithful eye
+Upon a poor soldier, naked and needy,
+That in the queen's wars was maimed, as you see.
+
+LIB. Where have you served?
+
+3D SUITOR. In France, in Flanders; but in Ireland most.
+
+LIB. Under whom?
+
+3D SUITOR. Under Captain Well-done.
+
+CAP. W. He was my soldier indeed, sir, until he lost his leg.
+
+LIB. Hold, pray for the queen.    [_Gives him money_.]
+
+3D SUITOR. God save the queen, and God save Liberality!
+
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+
+    _Enter_ TIPSTAVES, LIBERALITY, SHERIFF, CLERKS,
+    CRIER, PRODIGALITY, [_to whom_] _the_ JUDGE.
+
+TIP. Room, my masters, give place, stand by:
+Sir Equity hath sent me to let you understand,
+That hither he will resort out of hand,
+To sit upon the arraignment of Prodigality.
+
+LIB. In good time.
+
+TIP.               Behold, he comes.
+
+LIB. Now, Equity, how falls the matter out?
+
+EQ. That Prodigality is guilty of the fact, no doubt.
+And therefore for furtherance of justice effectually,
+My lord the judge comes to sit upon him presently:
+Wherein we crave your assistance.
+
+LIB. I'll wait upon you.
+
+TIP. Room, my masters, room for my lord: stand by.
+
+    _The_ JUDGE _placed, and the_ CLERKS _under him_.
+
+JUDGE. Call for the prisoner.
+
+CLERK. Make an oyes, Crier.
+
+CRIER. Oyes, oyes, oyes!
+
+CLERK. Sheriff of Middlesex.
+
+CRIER. Sheriff of Middlesex.
+
+CLERK. Bring forth the prisoner.
+
+CRIER. Bring forth the prisoner.
+
+CLERK. Prodigality.
+
+CRIER. Prodigality.
+
+CLERK. Pain of the peril shall fall thereon.
+
+CRIER. Pain of the peril shall fall thereon.
+
+SHER. Here, sir.
+
+CLERK. Prodigality, hold up thy hand.    [_He holds it up_.
+Thou art indicted here by the name of Prodigality,
+For that thou, the fourth day of February,
+In the three and forty year of the prosperous reign
+Of Elizabeth, our dread sovereign,
+By the grace of God, of England, France, and Ireland queen,
+Defender of the faith, &c.,
+Together with the other malefactors yet unknown,
+At Highgate,[417] in the county of Middlesex, aforesaid,
+Didst feloniously take from one Tenacity,
+Of the parish of Pancridge,[418] yeoman, in the said county,
+One thousand pounds of gold and silver sterling.
+And also, how thyself, the said Prodigality,
+With a sword, price twenty shillings, then and there cruelly
+Didst give the said Tenacity upon the head
+One mortal wound, whereof he is now dead,
+Contrary to the queen's peace, her crown, and dignity.
+
+JUDGE. How say'st thou, Prodigality, to this robbery,
+Felony, and murther? art thou guilty
+Or not guilty?
+
+PROD.          My lord, I beseech you
+Grant me counsel to plead my cause.
+
+JUDGE. That may not be; it standeth not with our laws.
+
+PROD. Then, good my lord, let me some respite take.
+
+JUDGE. Neither may that be; thus doth the indictment lie,
+Thou art accus'd of murther and of robbery,
+To which thou must now answer presently,
+Whether thou be thereof guilty or not guilty.
+
+PROD. Well, since there is no other remedy,
+And that my fact falls out so apparently,
+I will confess that indeed I am guilty,
+Most humbly appealing to the prince's mercy.
+
+JUDGE. Then what canst thou say for thyself, Prodigality,
+That according to the law thou shouldst not die?
+
+PROD. Nothing, my lord; but still appeal to the prince's mercy.
+
+JUDGE. Then hearken to thy judgment: thou,
+Prodigality, by that name hast been
+Indicted and arraigned here of a robbery,
+Murther, and felony, against the laws committed
+By thee: the indictment whereof being read unto thee
+Here, thou confessest thyself to be guilty therein:
+Whereupon I judge thee to be had from hence
+To the place thou cam'st fro, and from thence to
+The place of execution, there to be hanged,
+Till thou be dead. God have mercy on thee!
+
+PROD. My lord, I most humbly beseech you to hear me.
+
+JUDGE. Say on.
+
+PROD. I confess I have run a wanton wicked race,
+Which now hath brought me to this woful wretched case:
+I am heartily sorry, and with tears do lament
+My former lewd and vile misgovernment.
+I find the brittle stay of trustless Fortune's state.
+My heart now thirsteth after Virtue all too late:
+Yet, good my lord, of pity condescend
+To be a mean for him that meaneth to amend.
+The prince is merciful, of whose great mercy
+Full many have largely tasted already;
+Which makes me appeal thereto more boldly.
+
+JUDGE. Prodigality, I not mislike your wailful disposition;
+And therefore for you to the prince there shall be made petition,
+That though your punishment be not fully remitted,
+Yet in some part it may be qualified.
+
+PROD. God save your life!
+
+    VIRTUE, EQUITY, LIBERALITY, JUDGE, _and all come
+    down before the_ QUEEN, _and, after reverence made_,
+    VIRTUE _speaketh_
+
+
+THE EPILOGUE.
+
+_Most mighty queen, yonder I sat in place,
+Presenting show of chiefest dignity;
+Here prostrate, lo, before your princely grace
+I show myself, such as I ought to be,
+Your humble vassal, subject to your will,
+With fear and love your grace to reverence still_.
+
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+GRIM THE COLLIER OF CROYDON.
+
+
+
+
+EDITION.
+
+
+_Grim the Collier of Croyden; or, The Devil and his Dame: with the Devil
+and Saint Dunston. By I.T. London. Printed in the year_ [1662]. 12mo.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+The initial letters J.T. are placed before this play as those belonging
+to the author of it. What his name was, or what his condition, are
+alike unknown. It was printed in 12mo, 1662, with two others, "Thorny
+Abby; or, The London Maid," and "The Marriage Broker," in a volume
+entitled "Gratiae Theatrales; or, A Choice Ternary of English Plays."
+Chetwood says it was printed in 1599, and Whincop, in the year
+1606.[419] I cannot but suspect the fidelity of both these writers
+in this particular.[420]
+
+
+
+
+PROLOGUE
+
+
+You're welcome; but our plot I dare not tell ye,
+For fear I fright a lady with great belly:
+Or should a scold be 'mong you, I dare say
+She'd make more work than the devil in the play.
+Heard you not never how an actor's wife,
+Whom he (fond fool) lov'd dearly as his life,
+Coming in's way did chance to get a jape,[421]
+As he was 'tired in his devil's shape;
+And how equivocal a generation
+Was then begot, and brought forth thereupon?
+Let it not fright you; this I dare to say,
+Here is no lecherous devil in our play.
+He will not rumple Peg, nor Joan, nor Nan,
+But has enough at home to do with Marian,
+Whom he so little pleases, she in scorn
+Does teach his devilship to wind the horn;
+But if your children cry when Robin comes,
+You may to still them buy here pears or plums.
+Then sit you quiet all who are come in,
+St Dunstan will soon enter and begin.
+
+
+
+
+DRAMATIS PERSONAE.
+
+
+ST DUNSTAN, _Abbot of Glastonbury_.
+MORGAN, _Earl of London_.
+LACY, _Earl of Kent_.
+HONOREA, _Morgan's daughter_.
+MARIAN, _her Waiting-maid_.
+NAN, _Marian's maid_.
+MUSGRAVE, _a young Gentleman_.
+CAPTAIN CLINTON.
+MILES FORREST, _a Gentleman_.
+RALPH HARVEY, _an Apothecary_.
+GRIM, _the Collier of Croydon_.
+PARSON SHORTHOSE.
+CLACK, _a Miller_.
+JOAN, _a Country Maid_.
+PLUTO,                            |
+MINOS,                            |
+AEACUS                            |   _Devils_.
+RHADAMANTHUS,                     |
+BELPHEGOR,                        |
+AKERCOCK, _or Robin Goodfellow_,  |
+MALBECCO'S _Ghost, Officers, Attendants, &c.
+
+The Stage is England_.
+
+
+
+
+GRIM[422] THE COLLIER OF CROYDON.
+
+
+
+ACT I., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _A place being provided for the devil's consistory, enter_
+    ST DUNSTAN, _with his beads, book, and crosier-staff, &c_.
+
+ST. DUN. Envy, that always waits on virtue's train,
+And tears the graves of quiet sleeping souls,
+Hath brought me after many hundred years
+To show myself again upon the earth.
+Know then (who list) that I am English born,
+My name is Dunstan; whilst I liv'd with men,
+Chief primate of the holy English church.
+I was begotten in West Saxony:[423]
+My father's name was Heorstan, my mother's Cinifred.
+Endowed with my merit's legacy,
+I flourish'd in the reign of seven great kings:
+The first was Athelstane, whose niece Elfleda
+Malicious tongues reported I defiled:
+Next him came Edmond, then Edred, and Edwy.
+And after him reign'd Edgar, a great prince.
+But full of many crimes, which I restrain'd:
+Edward his son, and lastly Ethelred.
+With all these kings was I in high esteem,
+And kept both them and all the land in awe:
+And, had I liv'd, the Danes had never boasted
+Their then beginning conquest of this land.
+Yet some accuse me for a conjuror,
+By reason of those many miracles
+Which heaven for holy life endowed me with;
+But whoso looks into the "Golden Legend"[424]
+(That sacred register of holy saints)
+Shall find me by the pope canonised,
+And happily the cause of this report
+Might rise by reason of a vision
+Which I beheld in great King Edgar's days,
+Being that time Abbot of Glastonbury,
+Which (for it was a matter of some worth)
+I did make known to few until this day:
+But now I purpose that the world shall see
+How much those slanderers have wronged me:
+Nor will I trouble you with courts and kings;
+Or drive a feigned battle out of breath;
+Or keep a coil myself upon the stage;
+But think you see me in my secret cell,
+Arm'd with my portass,[425] bidding of my beads.
+But on a sudden I'm o'ercome with sleep!
+If aught ensue, watch you, for Dunstan[426] dreams.
+
+    [_He layeth him down to sleep; lightning and thunder;
+    the curtains drawn on a sudden_; PLUTO, MINOS, AEACUS,
+    RHADAMANTHUS, _set in counsel; before them_ MALBECCO'S
+    _ghost guarded with furies_.
+
+PLU. You ever-dreaded judges of black hell,
+Grim Minos, Aeacus, and Rhadamanth,
+Lords of Cocytus, Styx, and Phlegethon,
+Princes of darkness, Pluto's ministers,
+Know that the greatness of his present cause
+Hath made ourselves in person sit as judge,
+To hear th'arraignment of Malbecco's ghost.
+Stand forth, thou ghastly pattern of despair,
+And to this powerful synod tell thy tale,
+That we may hear if thou canst justly say
+Thou wert not author of thy own decay.
+
+MAL.[427] Infernal Jove, great prince of Tartary,
+With humble reverence poor Malbecco speaks,
+Still trembling with the fatal memory
+Of his so late concluded tragedy.
+I was (with thanks to your great bounty) bred
+A wealthy lord, whilst that I liv'd on earth;
+And so might have continu'd to this day,
+Had not that plague of mankind fall'n on me:
+For I (poor man) join'd woe unto my name
+By choosing out a woman for my wife.
+A wife! a curse ordained for the world.
+Fair Helena! fair she was indeed,
+But foully stain'd with inward wickedness.
+I kept her bravely, and I lov'd her dear;
+But that dear love did cost my life and all.
+To reckon up a thousand of her pranks,
+Her pride, her wasteful spending, her unkindness,
+Her false dissembling, seeming sanctity,
+Her scolding, pouting, prating, meddling,
+And twenty hundred more of the same stamp,
+Were but to heap[428] an endless catalogue
+Of what the world is plagu'd with every day.
+But for the main of that I have to tell,
+It chanced thus--Late in a rainy night,
+A crew of gallants came unto my house,
+And (will I, nill I) would forsooth be lodg'd.
+I brought them in, and made them all good cheer
+(Such as I had in store), and lodg'd them soft.
+Amongst them one, ycleped[429] Paridell
+(The falsest thief that ever trod on ground),
+Robb'd me, and with him stole away my wife.
+I (for I lov'd her dear) pursu'd the thief,
+And after many days in travel spent,
+Found her amongst a crew of satyrs wild,
+Kissing and colling[430] all the livelong night.
+I spake her fair, and pray'd her to return;
+But she in scorn commands me to be gone,
+And glad I was to fly, to save my life.
+But when I backward came unto my house,
+I find it spoil'd, and all my treasure gone.
+Desp'rate and mad, I ran I knew not whither,
+Calling and crying out on heaven and fate,
+Till, seeing none to pity my distress,
+I threw myself down headlong on a rock,
+And so concluded all my ills at once.
+Now, judge you, justice benchers, if my wife
+Were not the instrument to end my life.
+
+PLU. Can it be possible (you lords of hell)
+Malbecco's tale of women should be true?
+Is marriage now become so great a curse,
+That whilom was the comfort of the world?
+
+MIN. Women, it seems, have lost their native shame,
+As no man better may complain than I;
+Though not of any whom I made my wife,
+But of my daughter, who procured my fall.
+
+AEAC. 'Tis strange what plaints are brought us every day
+Of men made miserable by marriage;
+So that, amongst a thousand, scarcely ten
+Have not some grievous actions 'gainst their wives.
+
+RHA. My lord, if Rhadamanth might counsel you,
+Your grace should send some one into the world,
+That might make proof if it be true or no.
+
+PLU. And wisely hast thou counseled, Rhadamanth,
+Call in Belphegor to me presently;
+        [_One of the furies goes for_ BELPHEGOR.
+He is the fittest that I know in hell
+To undertake a task of such import;
+For he is patient, mild, and pitiful--
+Humours but ill agreeing with our kingdom.
+
+    _Enter_ BELPHEGOR.
+
+And here he comes. Belphegor, so it is,
+We in our awful synod have decreed
+(Upon occasion to ourselves best known)
+That thou from hence shall go into the world,
+And take upon thee the shape of a man,
+In which estate thou shalt be married.
+Choose thee a wife that best may please thyself,
+And live with her a twelvemonth and a day.
+Thou shalt be subject unto human chance,
+So far as common wit cannot relieve thee;
+Thou shalt of us receive ten thousand pounds,
+Sufficient stock to use for thy increase:
+But whatsoever happens in that time,
+Look not from us for succour or relief.
+This shalt thou do, and when the time's expired,
+Bring word to us what thou hast seen and done.
+
+BEL. With all my heart, my lord, I am content,
+So I may have my servant Akercock
+To wait on[431] me, as if he were my man,
+That he may witness likewise what is done.
+
+PLU. We are contented, he shall go with thee.
+
+MIN. But what meantime decrees your majesty
+Of poor Malbecco?
+
+PLU. He shall rest with us,
+Until Belphegor do return again;
+And as he finds, so will we give his doom.
+Come, let us go and set our spyal[432] forth,
+Who for a time must make experiment,
+If hell be not on earth as well as here.
+
+                                         [_Exeunt_.
+
+    [_It thunders and lightens; the devils go forth_;
+    DUNSTAN, _rising, runneth about the stage, laying
+    about him with his staff_.
+
+ST DUN. Satan, avaunt! thou art man's enemy:
+Thou shalt not live amongst us so unseen,
+So to betray us to the prince of darkness.
+Satan, avaunt! I do conjure thee hence.--
+What, dream'st thou, Dunstan? yea, I dream'd indeed.
+Must then the devil come into the world?
+Such is, belike, the infernal king's decree;
+Well, be it so; for Dunstan is content.
+Mark well the process of the devil's disguise,
+Who happily may learn you to be wise.
+Women, beware, and make your bargains well,
+The devil, to choose a wife, is come from hell.
+
+                                        [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    _Enter_ MORGAN, _Earl of London_, LACY, _Earl of Kent,
+    with_ MILES FORREST.
+
+MOR. My Lord of Kent, your honour knows my mind,
+That ever has, and still does honour you,
+Accounting it my daughter's happiness
+(Amidst her other infelicities),
+That you vouchsafe to love her as you do.
+How gladly I would grant your lordship's suit
+The heavens can witness, which with ruthless ears
+Have often heard my yet unpitied plaints;
+And could I find some means for her recovery,
+None but yourself should have her to your wife.
+
+LACY. My Lord of London, now long time it is,
+Since Lacy first was suitor to your daughter,
+The fairest Honorea, in whose eyes
+Honour itself in love's sweet bosom lies.
+What shall we say, or seem to strive with heaven,
+Who speechless sent her first into the world?
+In vain it is for us to think to loose
+That which by nature's self we see is bound.
+Her beauty, with her other virtues join'd,
+Are gifts sufficient, though she want a tongue:
+And some will count it virtue in a woman
+Still to be bound to unoffending silence;
+Though I could wish with half of all my lands,
+That she could speak: but since it may not be,
+'Twere vain to imprison beauty with her speech.
+
+FOR. Have you not heard, my lords, the wondrous fame
+Of holy Dunstan, Abbot of Glastonbury?
+What miracles he hath achiev'd of late;
+And how the rood of Dovercourt[433] did speak,
+Confirming his opinion to be true:
+And how the holy consistory fell,
+With all the monks that were assembled there,
+Saving one beam, whereon this Dunstan sat;
+And other more such miracles as these.
+They say he is of such religious life,
+That angels often use to talk with him,
+And tell to him the secrets of the heavens.
+No question, if your honours would but try,
+He could procure my lady for to speak.
+
+MOR. Believe me, Forrest, thou hast well advis'd,
+For I have heard of late much talk of him.
+
+LACY. Is not that Dunstan he who check'd the king
+About his privy dealing with the nun,
+And made him to do penance for the fault?
+
+MOR. The same is he; for whom I straight will send.
+Miles Forrest shall in post to Glastonbury,
+And gently pray the abbot for my sake
+To come to London. Sure, I hope the heavens
+Have ordain'd Dunstan to do Morgan good.
+
+LACY. Let us despatch him thither presently;
+For I myself will stay for his return,
+And see some end or other, ere I go.
+
+MOR. Come, then, Lord Lacy: Forrest, come away.
+
+                                      [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+
+    _Enter_ BELPHEGOR, _attired like a physician_;
+    AKERCOCK, _his man, in a tawny coat_.
+
+BEL. Now is Belphegor, an incarnate devil,
+Come to the earth to seek him out a dame:
+Hell be my speed! and so, I hope, it will.
+In lovely London are we here arrived;
+Where, as I hear, the earl hath a fair daughter
+So full of virtue and soft modesty,
+That yet she never gave a man foul word.
+
+AKER. Marry, indeed, they say she cannot speak.
+
+BEL. For this cause have I taken this disguise,
+And will profess me a physician,
+Come up on purpose for to cure the lady:
+Marry, no may[434] shall bind me but herself,
+And she I do intend shall be my wife.
+
+AKER. But, master, tell me one thing by the way:
+Do you not mean that I shall marry too?
+
+BEL. No, Akercock, thou shalt be still unwed;
+For if they be as bad as is reported,
+One wife will be enough to tire us both.
+
+AKER. O, then you mean that I shall now and then
+Have, as it were, a course at base[435] with her.
+
+BEL. Not so, not so, that's one of marriage's plagues
+Which I must seek to shun amongst the rest,
+And live in sweet contentment with my wife,
+That when I back again return to hell,
+All women may be bound to reverence me
+For saving of their credits, as I will.
+But who comes here?
+
+    _Enter_ CAPTAIN CLINTON.
+
+CLIN. This needs must tickle Musgrave to the quick,
+And stretch his heart-strings farther by an inch,
+That Lacy must be married to his love:
+And by that match my market is near marr'd
+For Mariana, whom I most affect;
+But I must cast about by some device
+To help myself, and to prevent the earl.
+
+BEL. This fellow fitly comes to meet with me,
+Who seems to be acquainted with the earl.    [_Aside_.
+Good fortune guide you, sir!
+
+CLIN. As much to you.
+
+BEL. Might I entreat a favour at your hands?
+
+CLIN. What's that?
+
+BEL. I am a stranger here in England, sir,
+Brought from my native home upon report,
+That the earl's daughter wants the use of speech;
+I have been practised in such cures ere now,
+And willingly would try my skill on her.
+Let me request you so to favour me,
+As to direct me to her father's house.
+
+CLIN. With all my heart, and welcome shall you be
+To that good earl, who mourns his daughter's want:
+But they have for a holy abbot sent,
+Who can, men say, do many miracles,
+In hope that he will work this wondrous cure.
+
+BEL. Whate'er he be, I know 'tis past his skill;
+Nor any in the world, besides myself,
+Did ever sound the depth of that device.
+
+    _Enter_ MUSGRAVE.
+
+CLIN. Musgrave, well met: I needs must speak with you.
+
+MUS. I came to seek you.
+
+CLIN. Tarry you a while.
+[_To_ BEL.] Shall I entreat you, sir, to walk before
+With this same gentleman? I'll overtake you.
+                 [_Exeunt_ BELPHEGOR _and_ AKERCOCK.
+This is the news: the Earl of Kent is come,
+And in all haste the marriage must be made.
+Your lady weeps, and knows not what to do;
+But hopes that you will work some means or other
+To stop the cross-proceedings of the earl.
+
+MUS. Alas, poor Clinton! what can Musgrave do?
+Unless I should by stealth convey her thence,
+On which a thousand dangers do depend.
+
+CLIN. Well, to be brief, because I cannot stay,
+Thus stands the case: if you will promise me
+To work your cousin Marian to be mine,
+I'll so devise that you shall purchase[436] her;
+And therefore, tell me if you like the match?
+
+MUS. With all my heart, sir; yea, and thank you, too.
+
+CLIN. Then say no more, but leave the rest to me,
+For I have plotted how it shall be done.
+I must go follow yon fair gentleman,
+On whom I build my hopes. Musgrave, adieu.
+
+MUS. Clinton, farewell; I'll wish thee good success.
+
+                                           [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT II., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ MORGAN, LACY, DUNSTAN, FORREST, HONOREA, MARIAN.
+
+MOR. Thou holy man, to whom the higher powers
+Have given the gift of cures beyond conceit,
+Welcome thou art unto Earl Morgan's house:
+The house of sorrow yet, unless by thee
+Our joys may spring anew; which if they do,
+Reward and praise shall both attend on thee.
+
+LACY. And we will ever reverence thy name,
+Making the chronicles to speak thy praise:
+So Honorea may but have her speech.
+
+DUN. My lords, you know the hallow'd gift of tongues
+Comes from the selfsame power that gives us breath:
+He binds and looseth them at his dispose;
+And in his name will Dunstan undertake
+To work this cure upon fair Honorea.
+Hang there, my harp, my solitary muse,
+Companion of my contemplation.
+          [_He hangs his harp on the wall_.
+And, lady, kneel with me upon the earth,
+That both our prayers may ascend to heaven.
+
+    [_They kneel down. Then enters_ CLINTON, _with_
+    BELPHEGOR, _terming himself_ CASTILIANO, _and_
+    AKERCOCK, _as_ ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
+
+CLIN. So shall you do the lady a good turn,
+And bind both him and me to you for ever.    [_Aside_.]
+
+BEL. I have determin'd what I mean to do.    [_Aside_.]
+
+CLIN. Here be the earls, and with them is the friar.    [_Aside_.]
+
+BEL. What, is he praying?    [_Aside_.]
+
+CLIN. So methinks he is;
+But I'll disturb him. [_Aside_.] By your leave, my lords,
+Here is a stranger from beyond the seas
+Will undertake to cure your lordship's daughter.
+
+MOR. The holy abbot is about the cure.
+
+BEL. Yea, but, my lord, he'll never finish it.
+
+MOR. How canst thou tell? What countryman art thou?
+
+BEL. I am by birth, my lord, a Spaniard born,
+And by descent came of a noble house;
+Though, for the love I bare[437] to secret arts,
+I never car'd to seek for vain estate,
+Yet by my skill I have increas'd my wealth.
+My name Castiliano, and my birth
+No baser than the best blood of Castile.
+Hearing your daughter's strange infirmity,
+Join'd with such matchless beauty and rare virtue,
+I cross'd the seas on purpose for her good.
+
+DUN. Fond man, presuming on thy weaker skill,
+That think'st by art to overrule the heavens!
+Thou know'st not what it is thou undertak'st.
+No, no, my lord, your daughter must be cur'd
+By fasting, prayer, and religious works;
+Myself for her will sing a solemn mass,
+And give her three sips of the holy chalice;
+And turn my beads with aves and with creeds:
+And thus, my lord, your daughter must be help'd.
+
+CAS. 'Zounds, what a prating keeps the bald-pate friar!
+My lord, my lord, here's church-work for an age?
+Tush! I will cure her in a minute's space,
+That she shall speak as plain as you or I.
+
+                   [DUNSTAN' _harp sounds on the wall_.
+
+FOR. Hark, hark, my lord! the holy abbot's harp
+Sounds by itself so hanging on the wall!
+
+DUN. Unhallowed man, that scorn'st the sacred rede,[438]
+Hark how the testimony of my truth
+Sounds heavenly music with an angel's hand,
+To testify Dunstan's integrity,
+And prove thy active boast of no effect.
+
+CAS. Tush, sir, that music was to welcome me!
+The harp hath got another master now;
+I warrant you, 'twill never tune you more.
+
+DUN. Who should be master of my harp but I?
+
+CAS. Try, then, what service it will do for you.
+
+                 [_He tries to play, but cannot_.
+
+DUN. Thou art some sorcerer or necromancer,
+Who by thy spells dost hold these holy strings.
+
+CAS. Cannot your holiness unbind the bonds?
+Then, I perceive, my skill is most of force.
+You see, my lord, the abbot is but weak;
+I am the man must do your daughter good.
+
+MOR. What wilt thou ask for to work thy cure?
+
+CAS. That without which I will not do the cure:
+Herself to be my wife, for which intent
+I came from Spain. Then, if she shall be mine,
+Say so, or keep her else for ever dumb.
+
+MOR. The Earl of Kent, mine honourable friend,
+Hath to my daughter been a suitor long,
+And much it would displease both her and him
+To be prevented of their wished love.
+Ask what thou wilt beside, and I will grant it.
+
+CAS. Alas, my lord! what should the crazy earl
+Do with so young a virgin as your daughter?
+I dare stand to her choice 'twixt him and me.
+
+LACY. And I will pawn mine earldom with my love,
+And lose them both, if I lose Honorea.
+
+CAS. A match, my lords! We'll stand unto the choice.
+
+MOR. I am contented, if the earl be pleased.
+
+LACY. I were not worthy of her, did I doubt.
+
+CAS. Then there it goes. Fetch me a bowl of wine:
+This is the match, my lord, before I work--
+If she refuse the earl, she must be mine.
+
+MOR. It is.
+
+    [_One brings him a cup of wine: he strains the
+    juice of the herb into it_.
+
+CAS. Now shall your lordships see a Spaniard's skill,
+Who from the plains of new America[439]
+Can find out sacred simples of esteem
+To bind and unbind nature's strongest powers.
+This herb, which mortal men have seldom found,
+Can I with ease procure me, when I list,
+And by this juice shall Honorea speak.
+Here, lady, drink the freedom of thy heart,
+And may it teach thee long to call me love!
+                              [_She drinks_.
+Now, lovely Honorea, thou art free,
+Let thy celestial voice make choice of me.
+
+HON. Base alien! mercenary fugitive!
+Presumptuous Spaniard! that with shameless pride
+Dar'st ask an English lady for thy wife,
+I scorn my slave should honour thee so much:
+And, for myself, I like myself the worse,
+That thou dar'st hope the gaining of my love.
+Go, get thee gone, the shame of my esteem,
+And seek some drudge that may be like thyself!
+But as for you, good Earl of Kent,
+Methinks your lordship, being of these years,
+Should be past dreaming of a second wife.
+Fie, fie, my lord! 'tis lust in doting age:
+I will not patronise so foul a sin.
+An old man dote on youth? 'tis monstrous.
+Go home, go home, and rest your weary head!
+'Twere pity such a brow should learn to bud.
+And lastly unto you, my lord and father,
+Your love to me is too much overseen,
+That in your care and counsel should devise
+To tie your daughter's choice to two such grooms.
+You may elect for me, but I'll dispose,
+And fit myself far better than both those;
+And so I will conclude; you[r], as you please.
+                  [_Exit_ HONOREA _in a chafe_.
+
+AKER. Call you this making of a woman speak?
+I think they all wish she were dumb again.
+
+CAS. How now, my lord? what, are you in a muse?
+
+LACY. I would to God her tongue were tied again.
+
+CAS. Ay, marry, sir, but that's another thing,
+The devil cannot tie a woman's tongue:[440]
+I would the friar could do that with his beads.
+But 'tis no matter: you, my lord, have promis'd,
+If she refuse the earl, she should be mine.
+
+MOR. Win her, and wear her, man, with all my heart!
+
+CAS. O, I'll haunt her till I make her stoop.
+Come, come, my lord, this was to try her voice;
+Let's in and court her; one of us shall speed.
+
+AKER. Happy man[441] be his dole that misseth her, say I.
+
+DUN. My weaker senses cannot apprehend
+The means this stranger us'd to make her speak:
+There is some secret mystery therein,
+Conceal'd from Dunstan, which the heavens reveal,
+That I may scourge this bold, blaspheming man,
+Who holds religious works of little worth!
+
+         [_Exeunt; manent_ CLINTON _and_ FORREST.
+
+FOR. Now, Captain Clinton, what think you of me?
+
+CLIN. Methinks as yet the jest holds pretty well.
+The one hath taught her to deny himself:
+The other woo'd so long, he cannot speed.
+
+FOR. This news will please young Musgrave.
+
+CLIN. Marry will it,
+And I will hasten to acquaint him with them:
+Come, let's away.
+
+                                  [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Enter_ PARSON SHORTHOSE _and_ GRIM _the Collier_.
+
+GRIM. No, Master Parson, grief hath made my heart and me a pair of
+balance, as heavy as lead. Every night I dream I am a town top, and that
+I am whipped up and down with the scourge-stick of love and the metal of
+affection; and when I wake,[442] I find myself stark naked, and as cold
+as a stone. Now judge how I am tumbled and tossed; poor Grim the collier
+hath wished himself burnt up amongst his coals.
+
+SHO. O Grim! be wise, dream not of love,
+Thy sorrows cannot fancy move:
+If Jug love thee, love her again;
+If not, thy kindness then refrain.
+
+GRIM. I am not skilled in your rhyming. Master Parson; but that which is
+bred in the flesh will never come out of the bone. I have seen as much
+as another man; my travel should teach me. There's never a day in the
+week but I carry coals from Croydon to London; and now, when I rise in
+the morning to harness my horses, and load my cart, methinks I have a
+tailor sewing stitches in my heart: when I am driving my cart, my heart
+that wanders one way, my eyes they leer another, my feet they lead me, I
+know not whither, but now and then into a slough over head and ears; so
+that poor Grim, that before was over shoes in love, is now over head and
+ears in dirt and mire.
+
+SHO. Well, Grim, my counsel shall suffice
+To help thee; but in any wise
+Be rul'd by me, and thou shalt see,
+As thou lov'st her, she shall love thee.
+
+GRIM. A lard![443] but do you think that will be so? I should laugh till
+I tickle to see that day, and forswear sleep all the next night after. O
+Master Parson, I am so haltered in affection, that I may tell you in
+secret, [since] here's nobody else hears me, I take no care how I fill my
+sacks. Every time I come to London, my coals are found faulty; I have
+been five times pilloried, my coals given to the poor, and my sacks burnt
+before my face. It were a shame to speak this, but truth will come to
+light. O Joan! thou hast thrown the coal-dust of thy love into my eyes,
+and stricken me quite blind.
+
+SHO. Now, afore God, the collier chooseth well;
+For beauty Jug doth bear away the bell,
+And I love her: then, collier, thou must miss,
+For Parson Shorthose vows, Jug shall be his.    [_Aside_.]
+But hear'st thou, Grim, I have that in my head,
+To plot that how thou shalt the maiden wed.
+
+GRIM. But are you sure you have that in your head? O, for a hammer to
+knock that out! one blow at your pate would lay all open to me, and make
+me as wise as you.
+
+SHO. Think'st thou I do so often look
+For nothing on my learned book,
+As that I cannot work the feat?
+I warrant I'll the miller cheat,
+And make Jug thine, in spite of him.
+Will this content thee, neighbour Grim?
+
+GRIM. Content me! ay, and so highly, that if you do this feat for me,
+you hire me to you as one hireth an ox or an ass: to use, to ride, to
+spur, or anything; yours to demand, miserable Grim! Joan's handmaid!
+for so I have called myself ever since last May-day, when she gave me
+her hand to kiss.
+
+SHO. Well, let's away; and in all haste
+About it, ere the day be pass'd;
+And ever after, if thou hast her,
+Acknowledge me to be thy master.
+
+GRIM. I wool, sir: come, let's away, the best drink in Croydon's yours;
+I have it for you, even a dozen of jugs, to Jug's health.
+
+                                           [_Exeunt both_.
+
+    _Enter_ EARL MORGAN, EARL LACY, MARIAN.
+
+MOR. My Lord of Kent, the latter motion
+Doth bind me to you in a higher degree
+Than all those many favours gone before:
+And now the issue of my help relies
+Only on Mariana's gentleness,
+Who, if she will, in such a common good,
+Put to her helping-hand, the match is made.
+
+LACY. You need not make a doubt of Marian,
+Whose love unto her lady were enough,
+Besides her cousin's and her own consent,
+To move her to a greater thing than this.
+
+MAR. My lords, if aught there be in Marian,
+That may or pleasure you or profit her,
+Ye shall not need to doubt of my consent.
+
+MOR. Gramercy, Marian; and indeed the thing
+Is in itself a matter of no moment,
+If it be weigh'd aright, and therefore this:
+Thou know'st the bargain 'twixt me and the doctor,
+Concerning marriage with my only daughter,
+Whom I determined that my Lord of Kent
+Should have espoused: but I see her mind
+Is only set upon thy cousin Musgrave,
+And in her marriage to use constraint
+Were bootless; therefore thus we have devised.
+Lord Lacy is content to lose his part,
+And to resign his title to young Musgrave;
+But now the doctor will not yield his right.
+Thus we determine to beguile his hopes:
+Thou shalt this night be brought unto his bed
+Instead of her, and he shall marry thee:
+Musgrave shall have my daughter, she her will;
+And so shall all things sort[444] to our content.
+
+LACY. And this thou shalt be sure of, Marian,
+The doctor's wealth will keep thee royally:
+Besides, thou shalt be ever near thy friends,
+That will not see thee wrong'd by any man.
+Say then, wilt thou resolve to marry him?
+
+MAR. My lords, you know I am but young:
+The doctor's fit for one of riper years:
+Yet, in regard of Honorea's good,
+My cousin's profit, and all your contents,
+I yield myself to be the doctor's wife.
+
+MOR. 'Tis kindly spoken, gentle Marian.
+
+    _Enter_ CASTILIANO.
+
+But here the doctor comes.
+
+LACY. Then I'll away,
+Lest he suspect aught by my being here.    [_Exit_.
+
+MOR. Do, and let me alone to close with him.
+
+CAS. May he ne'er speak that makes a woman speak!
+She talks now sure for all the time that's pass'd:
+Her tongue is like a scarecrow in a tree,
+That clatters still with every puff of wind.
+I have so haunted her from place to place:
+About the hall, from thence into the parlour,
+Up to the chamber, down into the garden,
+And still she rails, and chafes, and scolds,
+As if it were the sessions-day in hell.
+Yet will I haunt her with an open mouth,
+And never leave her till I force her love me.
+
+MOR. Now, master doctor; what, a match or no?
+
+CAS. A match, quoth you? I think the devil himself
+Cannot match her; for, if he could, I should.    [_Aside_.]
+
+MOR. Well, be content: 'tis I must work the mean
+To make her yield, whether she will or no.
+My Lord of Kent is gone hence in a chafe,
+And now I purpose that she shall be yours,
+Yet to herself unknown; for she shall think
+That Musgrave is the man, but it shall be you:
+Seem you still discontented, and no more.
+Go, Mariana, call thy mistress hither.
+Now, when she comes, dissemble what you know,
+And go away, as if you car'd not for her;
+So will she the sooner be brought into it.
+
+                                [_Exit_ MARIAN.
+
+CAS. My lord, I thank you for your honest care,
+And, as I may, will study to requite it.
+
+    _Enter_ HONOREA _and_ MARIAN.
+
+But here your daughter comes. No, no, my lord,
+'Tis not her[445] favour I regard, nor her;
+Your promise 'tis I challenge, which I'll have:
+It was my bargain, no man else should have her.
+Not that I love her, but I'll not be wrong'd
+By any one, my lord; and so I leave you.
+                             [_Exit_ CASTILIANO.
+
+MOR. He's passing cunning to deceive himself:
+But all the better for the after-sport.
+
+HON. Sir, did you send for me?
+
+MOR. Honorea, for thee;
+And this it is. Howe'er unworthily
+I have bestowed my love so long upon thee,
+That wilt so manifestly contradict me,
+Yet, that thou may'st perceive how I esteem thee,
+I make thyself the guardian of thy love,
+That thine own fancy may make choice for thee.
+I have persuaded with my Lord of Kent
+To leave to love thee: now the peevish doctor
+Swears that his int'rest he will ne'er resign;
+Therefore we must by policy deceive him.
+He shall suppose he lieth this night with thee,
+But Mariana shall supply thy room;
+And thou with Musgrave in another chamber
+Shall secretly be lodg'd. When this is done,
+'Twill be too late to call that back again:
+So shalt thou have thy mind, and he a wife.
+
+HON. But wilt thou, Mariana, yield to this?
+
+MAR. For your sake, lady, I will undertake it.
+
+HON. Gramercy, Marian, and my noble father;
+Now I acknowledge that indeed you love me.
+
+MOR. Well, no more words, but be you both prepar'd:
+The night draweth on, and I have sent in secret
+For Musgrave, that he may be brought unseen,
+To hide suspicion from their jealous eyes.
+
+HON. I warrant you. Come, Marian, let us go.
+
+               [_Exeunt_ HONOREA _and_ MARIAN.
+
+MOR. And then my Lord of Kent shall be my son.
+Should I go wed my daughter to a boy?
+No, no; young girls must have their will restrain'd;
+For if the rule be theirs, all runs to nought.
+                                             [_Exit_.
+
+    _Enter_ CLACK _the Miller, with_ JOAN.
+
+CLACK. Be not Jug, as a man would say, finer than fivepence, or more
+proud than a peacock; that is, to seem to scorn to call in at Clack's
+mill as you pass over the bridge. There be as good wenches as you be
+glad to pay me toll.
+
+JOAN. Like enough, Clack; I had as live[446] they
+as I, and a great deal rather too. You, that take
+toll of so many maids, shall never toll me after
+you. O God! what a dangerous thing it is but to
+peep once into love! I was never so haunted with
+my harvest-work as I am with love's passions.
+
+CLACK. Ay, but Joan, bear old proverbs in your memory; soft and fair;
+now, sir, if you make too much haste to fall foul, ay, and that upon a
+foul one too, there fades the flower of all Croydon. Tell me but this:
+is not Clack the miller as good a name as Grim the collier?
+
+JOAN. Alas! I know no difference in names
+To make a maid or choose or to refuse.
+
+CLACK. You were best to say, no, nor in men neither. Well, I'll be sworn
+I have; but I have no reason to tell you so much, that care so little
+for me [_aside_]: yet hark.
+                    [CLACK _speaketh in her ear_.
+
+    _Enter_ GRIM _and_ PARSON SHORTHOSE.
+
+GRIM. O Master Parson, there he stands like a scarecrow, to drive me
+away from her that sticks as close to my heart as my shirt to my back,
+or my hose to my heel. O Master Parson Shorthose, Grim is but a man as
+another man is: colliers have but lives, as other men have. All is gone
+if she go from me: Grim is nobody without her. My heart is in my mouth;
+my mouth is in my hand; my hand threatens vengeance against the miller,
+as it were a beadle with a whip in his hand, triumphing o'er a beggar's
+back!
+
+SHO. Be silent, Grim; stand close, and see;
+So shall we know how all things be.
+
+GRIM. In wisdom I am appeased; but in anger I broil, as it were a rasher
+upon the coals.
+
+JOAN. I'll not despise the trades ye either have;
+Yet Grim the collier may, if he be wise,
+Live even as merry as the day is long;
+For, in my judgment, in his mean estate
+Consists as much content as in more wealth.
+
+GRIM. O Master Parson, write down this sweet saying of her in Grim's
+commendations. She hath made my heart leap like a hobby-horse! O Joan,
+this speech of thine will I carry with me even to my grave.
+
+SHO. Be silent, then.
+
+CLACK. Well, then, I perceive you mean to lead your life in a coalpit,
+like one of the devil's drudges, and have your face look like the
+outward side of an old iron pot or a blacking-box.
+
+GRIM. He calleth my trade into question, I cannot forbear him.
+
+SHO. Nay, then you spoil all: neighbour Grim,
+I warrant you, she will answer him.
+
+JOAN. What I intend, I am not bound to show
+To thee, nor any other but my mother,
+To whom in duty I submit myself:
+Yet this I tell thee, though my birth be mean,
+My honest virtuous life shall help to mend it;
+And if I marry any in all this life,
+He shall say boldly he hath an honest wife.
+
+GRIM. O, that it were my fortune to light upon her, on condition my
+horses were dead, and my cart broken, and I bound to carry coals, as
+long as I live, from Croydon to London on my bare shoulders! Master
+Parson, the flesh is frail, he shall tempt her no longer. She is but
+weak, and he is the stronger. I'll upon him. Miller, thou art my
+neighbour, and therein charity holds my hands; but methinks you, having
+a water-gap of your own, you may do as other millers do, grind your
+grist at home, knock your cogs into your own mill; you shall not cog
+with her.
+
+    She doth descry thee;
+    And I defy thee
+    To a mortal fight;
+    And so, miller, good night.
+    And now, sweet Joan,
+    Be it openly known
+    Thou art my own.
+
+CLACK. Well, Grim, since thou art so collier-like choleric--
+
+GRIM. Miller, I will not be mealy-mouth'd.
+
+CLACK. I'll give thee the fewer words now, because the next time we
+meet, I'll pay thee all in dry blows. Carry coals[447] at a collier's
+hands! if I do, let my mill be drowned up in water, and I hanged in
+the roof.
+
+JOAN. And if thou lov'st me, Grim, forbear him now.
+
+GRIM. If I love thee! dost thou doubt of that? nay, rip me up, and look
+into my heart, and thou shalt see thy own face pictured there as plainly
+as in the proudest looking-glass in all Croydon. If I love thee! then,
+tears, gush out, and show my love.
+
+CLACK. What, Master Parson, are you there? You remember you promised to
+win Joan for my own wearing?
+
+SHO. I warrant thee, Clack, but now begone;
+Leave me to work that here alone.
+
+CLACK. Well, farewell, Master Shorthose; be true when you are trusted.
+                                                        [_Exit_ CLACK.
+
+SHO. She shall be neither his nor thine,
+For I intend to make her mine.
+
+GRIM. If I love thee, Joan! Those very words are a purgation to me.
+You shall see desperation in my face, and death marching in my very
+countenance. If I love!
+
+SHO. What, Grim, hath grief drown'd thee at last?
+Are all thy joys overcast?
+Is Joan in place, and thou so sad!
+Her presence, man, should make thee glad.
+
+JOAN. Good Master Parson, 'twas no fault of mine;
+He takes occasion, where there none was given.
+I will not blab unto the world, my love
+I owe to him, and shall do whilst I live.    [_Aside_]
+
+GRIM. Well, Joan, without all ifs or ands, e-persese, a-persese, or
+tittle-tattles in the world, I do love thee; and so much that, in thy
+absence I cry, when I see thee, and rejoice with my very heart, when
+I cannot behold thee.
+
+SHO. No doubt, no doubt, thou lov'st her well,
+But listen now to what I tell:
+Since ye are both so well agreed,
+I wish you make more haste and speed.
+To-morrow is Holy-rood day,
+When all a-nutting take their way;
+Within the wood a close doth stand,
+Encompass'd round on either hand
+With trees and bushes; there will I
+Despatch your marriage presently.
+
+GRIM. O Master Parson, your devising pate hath blessed me for ever.
+Joan, we'll have that so: the shorter the work the sweeter.
+
+JOAN. And if my mother give but her consent,
+My absence shall in no case hinder it.
+
+GRIM. She, quotha? she is mine already; we'll to her presently. Master
+Parson, 'tis a match; we'll meet you. Now, miller, do I go beyond you?
+I have stripped him of the wench, as a cook would strip an eel out of
+her skin, or a pudding out of the case thereof. Now I talk of a pudding,
+O, 'tis my only food, I am an old dog at it. Come, Joan, let us away,
+I'll pudding you.
+
+SHO. Well, if my fortune luckily ensue,
+As you shall cosen him, I'll cosen you.
+
+                              [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Enter_ CASTILIANO _at one door with_ MARIAN, EARL LACY
+    _at another door with_ HONOREA.
+
+CAS. Come, lovely Honorea, bright as day.
+As came Alcmena from her sacred bed
+With Jupiter, shap'd like Amphitrion,
+So show my love.
+
+HON. My love! whom have we here? Sweet
+Musgrave! but, alas, I am betrayed!
+
+CAS. Thou art my love.
+
+LACY. No, mine.
+
+HON. Nor yours, nor yours;
+But Musgrave's love. O Musgrave! where art thou?
+
+LACY. Be not displeas'd, my dear; give me thy hand.
+
+HON. My hand, false earl! nor hand nor heart of mine!
+Couldst thou thus cunningly deceive my hopes?
+And could my father give consent thereto?
+Well, neither he nor thou shalt force my love.
+
+CAS. 'Tis I, fair Honorea, am thy love:
+Forsake the worthless earl, give me thy hand.
+
+MAR. Whose hand would you have, sir? this hand is mine,
+And mine is yours: then keep you to your own:
+Yet are you mine, sir, and I mean to keep you.
+What! do you think to shake me off so soon?
+No, gentle husband, now 'tis too-too late;
+You should have look'd, before you came to bed.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN GOODFELLOW[448] _with his master's gown_.
+
+ROB. Many good-morrows to my gentle master
+And my new mistress; God give you both joy!
+What say you to your gown, sir, this cold morning?
+
+CAS. Robin, I am undone, and cast away!
+
+ROB. How, master, cast away upon a wife?
+
+CAS. Yea, Robin, cast away upon a wife.
+
+ROB. Cast her away then, master, can you not?
+
+MAR. No, sir, he cannot, nor he shall not do it.
+
+ROB. Why, how know you? I am sure you are not she.
+
+MAR. Yes, sir, I am your mistress, as it falls.
+
+ROB. As it falls, quoth ye? marry, a foul fall is it.
+
+MAR. Base rascal, dost thou say that I am foul?
+
+ROB. No, it was foul play for him to fall upon you.
+
+MAR. How know you that he fell? were you so nigh?
+
+               [_She giveth_ ROBIN _a box on the ear_.
+
+ROB. Mass, it should seem it was he that fell, if any,
+For you (methinks) are of a mounting nature:
+What, at my ears at first? a good beginning.
+
+LACY. My dear delight, why dost thou stain thy cheeks,
+Those rosy beds, with this unseemly dew?
+Shake off those tears, that now untimely fall,
+And smile on me, that am thy summer's joy.
+
+HON. Hapless am I to lose so sweet a prison,
+Thus to obtain a weary liberty.
+Happy had I been so to have remain'd,
+Of which estate I ne'er should have complain'd.
+
+ROB. Whoop, whoo! more marriages! and all of a sort. Happy are they,
+I see, that live without them: if this be the beginning, what will be
+the ending?
+
+    _Enter_ EARL MORGAN _and_ DUNSTAN.
+
+MOR. Look, Dunstan, where they be; displeas'd, no doubt,
+Try, if thou canst work reconciliation.
+
+CAS. My lord, I challenge you of breach of promise,
+And claim your daughter here to be my wife.
+
+LACY. Your claim is nought, sir; she is mine already.
+
+HON. Your claim is nought, sir; I am none of yours.
+
+MAR. Your claim is here, sir; Marian is yours.
+What, husband, newly married and inconstant!
+'Greed we so well together all this night,
+And must we now fall out? for shame, for shame!
+A man of your years, and be so unstay'd!
+Come, come away, there may no other be;
+I will have you, therefore you shall have me.
+
+ROB. This is the bravest country in the world,
+Where men get wives, whether they will or no:
+I trow ere long some wench will challenge me.
+
+CAS. O, is not this a goodly consequence?
+I must have her, because she will have me!
+
+DUN. Ladies and gentlemen, hear Dunstan speak.
+Marriage, no doubt, is ordain'd by providence;
+Is sacred, not to be by vain affect
+Turn'd to the idle humours of men's brains.
+Besides, for you, my lady Honorea,
+Your duty binds you to obey your father,
+Who better knows what fits you than yourself;
+And 'twere in you great folly to neglect
+The earl's great love, whereof you are unworthy,
+Should you but seem offended with the match.
+Therefore submit yourself to make amends,
+For 'tis your fault; so may you all be friends.
+
+MOR. And, daughter, you must think what I have done
+Was for your good, to wed you to the earl,
+Who will maintain and love you royally:
+For what had Musgrave but his idle shape?
+A shadow to the substance you must build on.
+
+ROB. She will build substance on him, I trow;
+Who keeps a shrew against her will, had better let her go.    [_Aside_.]
+
+MAR. Madam, conceal your grief, and seem content;
+For, as it is, you must be rul'd per force:
+Dissemble, till convenient time may serve
+To think on this despite and Musgrave's love.    [_Aside_.]
+
+LACY. Tell me, my dear, wilt thou at length be pleas'd?
+
+HON. As good be pleas'd, my lord, as not be eas'd;
+Yet though my former love did move me much,
+Think not amiss, the same love may be yours.
+
+CAS. What! is it a match? nay then, since you agree,
+I cannot mend myself, for aught I see;
+And therefore 'tis as good to be content.
+Come, lady, 'tis your lot to be my dame.
+Lordings, adieu; God send you all good speed!
+Some have their wives for pleasure, some for need.
+
+LACY. Adieu, Castiliano: are we friends?
+
+CAS. Yes, yes, my lord, there is no remedy.
+
+ROB. No remedy, my masters, for a wife?
+A note for young beginners: mark it well.
+
+                                [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Enter_ FORREST, CAPTAIN CLINTON, HARVEY.
+
+FOR. Now, gallants, what imagine you of this?
+Our noses are all slit; for Mariana,
+The Spanish doctor hath her to his wife,
+And Musgrave's hopes are dead for Honorea,
+For she is married to the Earl of Kent.
+'Twill be good sport to see them when they rise.
+If so they be not gotten up already.
+
+CLIN. I say the devil go with them all for me.
+The Spanish doctor marry Marian!
+I think that slave was born to cross me still.
+Had it not been last day before the earl,
+Upon my conscience, I had crack'd his crown,
+When first he ask'd the lady for his wife;
+Now he hath got her too, whom I desir'd.
+Why, he'll away with her ere long to Spain,
+And keep her there to dispossess our hopes.
+
+FOR. No, I can comfort you for that suppose:[449]
+For yesterday he hir'd a dwelling-house,
+And here he means to tarry all this year;
+So long at least, whate'er he doth hereafter.
+
+CLIN. A sudden plotform[450] comes into my mind,
+And this it is. Miles Forrest, thou and I
+Are partly well acquainted with the doctor.
+Ralph Harvey shall along with us to him;
+Him we'll prefer for his apothecary?
+Now, sir, when Ralph and he are once acquainted,
+His wife may often come unto his house,
+Either to see his garden, or such like:
+For, doubt not, women will have means enough,
+If they be willing, as I hope she will.
+There may we meet her, and let each one plead:
+He that speeds best, why let him carry it.
+
+FOR. I needs must laugh to think how all we three,
+In the contriving of this feat, agree:
+But, having got her, every man will strive
+How each may other of her love deprive.
+
+CLIN. Tut, Forrest! love admits these friendly strifes;
+But say, how like you of my late device?
+
+FOR. Surpassing well, but let's about it straight,
+Lest he before our coming be provided.
+
+CLIN. Agreed.
+
+                  [_Exeunt.
+
+    Enter_ MUSGRAVE _and_ MARIAN.
+
+MUS. Tush, cousin! tell not me; but this device
+Was long ago concluded 'twixt you two,
+Which divers reasons move me to imagine:
+And therefore these are toys to blind my eyes,
+To make me think she only loved me,
+And yet is married to another man.
+
+MAR. Why, cousin Musgrave, are your eyes so blind
+You cannot see the truth of that report?
+Did you not know my lord was always bent,
+Whatever came, to wed her to the earl?
+And have you not, besides, heard the device
+He us'd to marry her against her will?
+Betray'd, poor soul, unto Earl Lacy's bed,
+She thought she held young Musgrave in her arms!
+Her morning tears might testify her thoughts;
+Yet thou shalt see she loves thee more than him,
+And thou shalt taste the sweets of her delights.
+Meantime, my house shall be thy mansion
+And thy abode, for thither will she come:
+Use thou that opportunity, and try
+Whether she lov'd thee, or did but dissemble.
+
+MUS. If she continue kind to me hereafter,
+I shall imagine well of her and you.
+
+    _Enter_ CASTILIANO.
+
+CAS. Now, dame, in talk! what gentleman is this?
+
+MAR. My cousin Musgrave, husband, comes to see you.
+
+CAS. Musgrave, now, on my faith, heartily welcome.
+Give me thy hand, my cousin and my friend,
+My partner in the loss of Honorea;
+We two must needs be friends: our fortune's like:
+Marry, yet I am richer by a shrew.
+
+MAR. 'Tis better to be a shrew, sir, than a sheep;[451]
+You have no cause, I hope, yet to complain?
+
+CAS. No, dame; for yet you know 'tis honeymoon.
+What! we have scarcely settled our acquaintance.
+
+MUS. I doubt not, cousin, but ye shall agree,
+For she is mild enough, if she be pleas'd.
+
+CAS. So is the devil, they say[452] [_aside_]: yea, cousin, yea,
+My dear and I, I doubt not, shall agree.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
+
+ROB. Sir, here be two or three gentlemen at the door
+Would gladly speak a word with your worship.
+
+    _Enter_ CLINTON, FORREST, HARVEY.
+
+[CAS.] They need no bidding, methinks: they can come alone!
+
+CLIN. God save you, Signior Castiliano.
+
+CAS. O captain, _come sta_?[453] welcome all, my friends!
+
+FOR. Sir, we are come to bid God give you joy,
+And see your house.
+
+MAR. Welcome, gentlemen:
+'Tis kindly done to come to see us here.
+
+ROB. This kindness makes me fear my master's head:
+Such hotspurs must have game, howe'er they get it.
+
+CLIN. We have a suit to you, Castiliano.
+
+CAS. What is it, sir? if it lies in me, 'tis done.
+
+CLIN. Nay, but a trifle, sir, and that is:
+This same young man, by trade apothecary,
+Is willing to retain unto your cures.
+
+CAS. Marry, with all my heart, and welcome too.
+What may I call your name, my honest friend?
+
+HAR. Ralph Harvey, sir; your neighbour here hard by.
+The Golden Lion is my dwelling-place,
+Where what you please shall be with care perform'd.
+
+CAS. Gramercies, Harvey! welcome, all my friends!
+Let's in, and handsel our new mansion-house
+With a carousing round of Spanish wine.
+Come, cousin Musgrave, you shall be my guest;
+My dame, I trow, will welcome you herself.
+
+MAR. No, boy, Lord Lacy's wife shall welcome thee.
+
+ROB. So now the game begins, here's some cheer toward;
+I must be skinker[454] then: let me alone;
+They all shall want, ere Robin shall have none.
+
+            [_Exeunt omnes nisi_ CLINTON _and_ HARVEY.
+
+CLIN. Sirrah Ralph Harvey, now the entry is made,
+Thou only hast access without suspect.[455]
+Be not forgetful of thy agent here;
+Remember Clinton was the man that did it.
+
+HAR. Why, captain, now you talk in jealousy.
+Do not misconstrue my true-meaning heart.
+
+CLIN. Ralph, I believe thee, and rely on thee.
+Do not too long absent thee from the doctor:
+Go in, carouse, and taint his Spanish brain;
+I'll follow, and my Marian's health maintain.
+
+HAR. Captain, you well advise me; I'll go in,
+And for myself my love-suits I'll begin.
+
+                                    [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT III., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN GOODFELLOW _with his head broken_.
+
+ROB. The devil himself take all such dames for me!
+'Zounds, I had rather be in hell than here.
+Nay, let him be his own man, if he list,
+Robin means not to stay to be us'd thus.
+The very first day, in her angry spleen,
+Her nimble hand began to greet my ears
+With such unkind salutes as I ne'er felt;
+And since that time there hath not pass'd an hour,
+Wherein she hath not either rail'd upon me,
+Or laid her anger's load upon my limbs.
+Even now (for no occasion in the world,
+But as it pleas'd her ladyship to take it)
+She gat me up a staff, and breaks my head.
+But I'll no longer serve so curs'd a dame;
+I'll run as far first as my legs will bear me.
+What shall I do? to hell I dare not go,
+Until my master's twelve months be expir'd,
+And here to stay with Mistress Marian--
+Better to be so long in purgatory.
+Now, farewell, master! but, shrewd dame, fare-ill!
+I'll leave you, though the devil is with you still.
+                                      [_Exit_ ROBIN.
+
+    _Enter_ MARIAN _alone, chafing_.
+
+MAR. My heart still pants within; I am so chaf'd!
+The rascal slave, my man, that sneaking rogue,
+Had like to have undone us all for ever!
+My cousin Musgrave is with Honorea,
+Set in an arbour in the summer-garden;
+And he, forsooth, must needs go in for herbs,
+And told me further, that his master bad him:
+But I laid hold upon my younker's pate,
+And made the blood run down about his ears.
+I trow, he shall ask me leave ere he go.
+Now is my cousin master of his love,
+The lady at one time reveng'd and pleas'd.
+So speed they all that marry maids perforce!
+
+    _Enter_ CASTILIANO.
+
+But here my husband comes.
+
+CAS. What, dame, alone?
+
+MAR. Yes, sir, this once--for want of company.
+
+CAS. Why, where's my lady and my cousin Musgrave?
+
+MAR. You may go look them both for aught I know.
+
+CAS. What, are you angry, dame?
+
+MAR. Yea, so it seems.
+
+CAS. What is the cause, I prythee?
+
+MAR. Why would you know?
+
+CAS. That I might ease it, if it lay in me.
+
+MAR. O, but it belongs not to your trade.
+
+CAS. You know not that.
+
+MAR. I know you love to prate, and so I leave you.
+                                    [_Exit_ MARIAN.
+
+CAS. Well, go thy way: oft have I raked hell
+To get a wife, yet never found her like.
+Why this it is to marry with a shrew.
+Yet if it be, as I presume it is,
+There's but one thing offends both her and me;
+And I am glad, if that be it offends her.
+'Tis so, no doubt; I read it in her brow.
+Lord Lacy shall with all my heart enjoy
+Fair Honorea: Marian is mine;
+Who, though she be a shrew, yet is she honest.
+So is not Honorea, for even now,
+Walking within my garden all alone,
+She came with Musgrave, stealing closely by,
+And follows him, that seeks to fly from her.
+I spied this all unseen, and left them there.
+But sure my dame hath some conceit thereof,
+And therefore she is thus angry, honest soul!
+Well, I'll straight hence unto my Lord of Kent,
+And warn him watch his wife from these close meetings.
+Well, Marian, thou liv'st yet free from blame.
+Let ladies go; thou art the devil's dame.
+                                    [_Exit_ CASTILIANO.
+
+    _Enter the_ DEVIL, _like_ MUSGRAVE, _with_ HONOREA.
+
+MUS. No, lady; let thy modest, virtuous life
+Be always joined with thy comely shape,
+For lust eclipseth nature's ornament.
+
+HON. Young heady boy, think'st thou thou shalt recall
+Thy long-made love, which thou so oft hast sworn,
+Making my maiden thoughts to doat on thee?
+
+MUS. With patience hear me, and, if what I say
+Shall jump with reason,[456] then you'll pardon me.
+The time hath been when my soul's liberty
+Vow'd servitude unto that heavenly face,
+Whilst both had equal liberty of choice;
+But since the holy bond of marriage
+Hath left me single, you a wedded wife,
+Let me not be the third unlawfully
+To do Earl Lacy so foul injury.
+But now at last--
+
+HON. I would that last
+Might be thy last, thou monster of all men!
+
+MUS. Hear me with patience.
+
+HON. Cease: I'll hear no more!
+'Tis my affection, and not reason, speaks:
+Then, Musgrave, turn the hardness of thy heart,
+And now at least incline thy love to mine.
+
+MUS. Nay, now I see thou wilt not be reclaim'd.
+Go and bestow this hot love on the earl;
+Let not these loose affects thus scandalise
+Your fair report. Go home, and learn to live
+As chaste as Lucrece, madam. So I leave you.
+
+                        [_She pulleth him back_.
+
+HON. O, stay a little while, and hear my tongue
+Speak my heart's words, which cannot choose but tell thee,
+I hate the earl, only because I love thee.    [_Exit_ MUSGRAVE.
+Musgrave, return! hear, Honorea speaks!
+Disdain hath left him wings to fly from me!
+Sweet love, lend me thy wings to overtake him,
+For I can stay him with kind dalliance!
+All this is but the blindness of my fancy.
+Recall thyself: let not thy honour bleed
+With the foul wounds of infamy and shame.
+My proper home shall call me home again,
+Where my dear lord bewails, as much as I,
+His too much love to her that loves not him.
+Let none hereafter fix her maiden love
+Too firm on any, lest she feel with me
+Musgrave's revolt and his inconstancy.
+                                    [_Exit_.
+
+    _Enter_ FORREST, _with_ MARIAN.
+
+FOR. Tut, I'll remember thee, and straight return:
+But here's the doctor.
+
+MAR. Where? Forrest, farewell!
+I would not have him see me for a world.
+
+FOR. Why? he is not here. Well, now I see you fear him.
+
+MAR. Marry, beshrew thee for thy false alarm!
+I fear him? no, I neither fear nor love him.
+
+FOR. But where's my lady? She is gone home before,
+And I must follow after. Marian, farewell.
+
+MAR. I shall expect your coming.
+
+FOR. Presently;
+And nearest thou, Marian? nay, it shall be so--
+
+                      [_He whispers in her ear_.
+
+MAR. O Lord, sir, you are wed, I warrant you:
+We'll laugh, be merry, and, it may be, kiss;
+But if you look for more, you aim amiss.
+
+FOR. Go to, go to! we'll talk of this anon.
+
+                                 [_Exit_ FORREST.
+
+MAR. Well, go thy way, for the true-heartedst man
+That liveth, and as full of honesty,
+And yet as wanton as a pretty lamb.
+He'll come again, for he hath lov'd me long,
+And so have many more besides himself;
+But I was coy and proud, as maids are wont,
+Meaning to match beyond my mean estate:
+Yet I have favour'd youths and youthful sports,
+Although I durst not venture on the main;
+But now it will not be so soon espied.
+Maids cannot, but a wife a fault may hide.
+
+    _Enter_ NAN.
+
+What, Nan!
+
+NAN. Anon, forsooth.
+
+MAR. Come hither, maid.
+Here, take my keys, and fetch the galley-pot;
+Bring a fair napkin and some fruit-dishes.
+Despatch, and make all ready presently;
+Miles Forrest will come straight to drink with me.
+
+NAN. I will, forsooth.    [_Exit_ NAN.
+
+MAR. Why am I young, but to enjoy my years?
+Why am I fair, but that I should be lov'd?
+And why should I be lov'd, and not love others?
+Tut, she is a fool that her affection smothers:
+'Twas not for love I was the doctor's wife,
+Nor did he love me, when he first was mine.
+Tush, tush, this _wife_ is but an idle name!
+I purpose now to try another game.
+Art thou return'd so soon? O, 'tis well done.
+
+    _Enter_ NAN _with the banquet_.
+
+And hear'st thou, Nan? when Forrest shall return,
+If any happen to inquire for me,
+Whether't be Captain Clinton or Ralph Harvey,
+Call presently, and say, thy master's come;
+So I'll send Forrest o'er the garden pale.
+
+NAN. I will, forsooth.
+
+MAR. Meantime, stay thou and make our banquet ready.
+I'll to my closet, and be here again,
+Before Miles Forrest shall come visit me.
+                                     [_Exit_ MARIAN.
+
+NAN. I wonder what my mistress is about?
+Somewhat she would not have my master know:
+Whate'er it be, 'tis nothing unto me;
+She's my good mistress, and I'll keep her counsel.
+I have oft seen her kiss behind his back,
+And laugh and toy, when he did little think it.
+O, what a winking eye the wanton hath
+To cosen him, even when he looks upon her!
+But what have I to do with what she doth?
+I'll taste her junkets since I am alone:
+That which is good for them cannot hurt me.
+Ay, marry, this is sweet! a cup of wine
+Will not be hurtful for digestion.
+                            [_She drinks_.]
+
+    _Enter_ CASTILIANO.
+
+CAS. I would I had been wiser once to-day;
+I went on purpose to my Lord of Kent
+To give him some good counsel for his wife,
+And he, poor heart, no sooner heard my news,
+But turns me up his whites, and falls flat down:
+There I was fain to rub and chafe his veins,
+And much ado we had to get him live.
+But for all that he is extremely sick,
+And I am come in all the haste I may
+For cordials to keep the earl alive.
+But how now? What, a banquet! What means this?
+
+NAN. Alas! my master is come home himself.
+Mistress, mistress! my master is come home!
+
+CAS. Peace, you young strumpet, or I'll stop your speech!
+                                    [_He stops her mouth_.
+Come hither, maid: tell me, and tell me true,
+What means this banquet? what's your mistress doing?
+Why call'dst[457] thou out, when as thou saw'st me coming?
+Tell me, or else I'll hang thee by the heels,
+And whip thee naked. Come on, what's the matter?
+
+NAN. Forsooth, I cannot tell.
+
+CAS. Can you not tell? come on, I'll make you tell me.
+
+NAN. O master! I will tell you.
+
+CAS. Then say on.
+
+NAN. Nothing, in truth, forsooth, but that she means
+To have a gentleman come drink with her.
+
+CAS. What gentleman?
+
+NAN. Forsooth, 'tis Master Forrest, as I think.
+
+CAS. Forrest? nay then I know how the game goeth:
+Whoever loseth, I am sure to win
+By their great kindness, though't be but the horns.
+
+    _Enter_ FORREST _at one door_, MARIAN _at another_.
+
+But here comes he and she. Come hither, maid:
+Upon thy life, give not a word, a look,
+That she may know aught of my being here.
+Stand still, and do whate'er she bids thee do.
+Go, get thee gone; but if thou dost betray me,
+I'll cut thy throat: look to it, for I will do it.
+I'll stand here close to see the end of this,
+And see what rakes she keeps, when I'm abroad.
+                  [CASTILIANO _conceals himself_.]
+
+MAR. 'Tis kindly done, Miles, to return so soon,
+And so I take it. Nan, is our banquet ready?
+Welcome, my love! I see you'll keep your word.
+
+NAN. 'Twere better for you both he had not kept it.    [_Aside_.]
+
+FOR. Yea, Mariana, else I were unworthy.
+I did but bring my lady to the door,
+And there I left her full of melancholy,
+And discontented.
+
+MAR. Why, 'twas kindly done.
+Come, come sit down, and let us laugh awhile:
+Maid, fill some wine.
+
+NAN. Alas! my breech makes buttons,
+And so would theirs, knew they as much as I.
+He may change the sweetmeats, and put
+Purging comfits in the dishes.
+
+MAR. Here's to my lady and my cousin Musgrave.
+
+FOR. I pray, remember gentle master doctor
+And good Earl Lacy too, among the rest.
+
+CAS. O sir, we find you kind--we thank you for it:
+The time may come when we may cry you quit.    [_Aside_.]
+
+NAN. Master, shall I steal you a cup of wine?    [_Aside_
+
+CAS. Away, you baggage! hold your peace, you wretch!    [_Aside_.]
+
+FOR. But I had rather walk into your orchard,
+And see your gallery so much commended;
+To view the workmanship he brought from Spain.
+Wherein's describ'd the banquet of the gods.
+
+MAR. Ay, there's one piece exceeding lively done;[458]
+Where Mars and Venus lie within a net,
+Enclos'd by Vulcan, and he looking on.
+
+CAS. Better and better yet: 'twill mend anon.
+
+MAR. Another of Diana with her nymphs,
+Bathing their naked bodies in the streams;
+Where fond Acteon, for his eyes' offence,
+Is turn'd into a hart's shape, horns and all:
+And this the doctor hangs right o'er his bed.
+
+FOR. Those horns may fall and light upon his head.
+
+CAS. And if they do, worse luck. What remedy?    [_Aside_.]
+
+FOR. Nay, Marian, we'll not leave these sights unseen;
+And then we'll see your orchard and your fruit,
+For now there hang queen apples on the trees,
+And one of them is[459] worth a score of these.
+
+MAR. Well, you shall see them, lest you lose your longing.
+                           [_Exeunt_ MARIAN _and_ FORREST.
+
+CAS. Nay, if ye fall a longing for green fruit,
+Child-bearing is not far off, I am sure.
+Why, this is excellent: I feel the buds!
+My head groweth hard: my horns will shortly spring!
+Now, who may lead the cuckold's dance but I,
+That am become the headman of the parish?
+O, this it is to have an honest wife,
+Of whom so much I boasted once to-day.
+Come hither, minx! you know your mistress' mind,
+And you keep secret all her villanies:
+Tell me, you were best, where was this plot devised?
+How did these villains know I was abroad?
+
+NAN. Indeed, forsooth, I know[460] not when it was.
+My mistress call'd me from my work of late,
+And bad me lay a napkin: so I did,
+And made this banquet ready; but in truth
+I knew not what she did intend to do.
+
+CAS. No, no, you did not watch against I came,
+To give her warning to despatch her knaves!
+You cried not out when as you saw me come!
+All this is nothing; but I'll trounce you all.
+
+NAN. In truth, good master!
+
+    _Enter_ MARIAN, FORREST.
+
+CAS. Peace, stay! they come.
+Whimper not; and you do, I'll use you worse.
+Behold that wicked strumpet with that knave!
+O, that I had a pistol for their sakes,
+That at one shot I might despatch them both!
+But I must stand close yet, and see the rest.
+                       [_He conceals himself again_.]
+
+MAR. How lik'st thou, Miles, my orchard and my house?
+
+FOR. Well; thou art seated to thy heart's content,
+A pleasant orchard and a house well-furnish'd:
+There nothing wants; but in the gallery
+The painter shows his art exceedingly.
+
+MAR. Yet is there one thing goeth beyond all these:
+Contented life, that giveth the heart his ease,
+And that I want.    [_One knocketh at the door_.
+
+FOR. Sweet love, adieu.    [_Exit_ FORREST.
+
+MAR. Farewell, sweetheart. Who is that at the door?
+
+    _Enter_ CLINTON.
+
+CLIN. A friend.
+
+MAR. Come near: what, captain, is it you?
+
+CLIN. Even I, fair Marian, watching carefully
+The blessed step of opportunity.
+
+MAR. Good, good! how fortune gluts me with excess!
+Still they that have enough shall meet with more.
+
+CLIN. But where's the doctor?
+
+MAR. Ministering abroad
+Physic to some sick patients he retains.
+
+CLIN. Let him abroad, I'll minister at home
+Such physic shall content my Marian.
+
+CAS. O monstrous! now the world must see my shame.
+This head must bear whatever likes[461] my dame.    [_Aside_.]
+
+MAR. I have no malady requires a cure.
+
+CLIN. Why, then, must I assume a sick man's part
+And all my sickness lieth at my heart?
+'Tis the heart-burning that torments me so.
+
+MAR. There is no cure for fire but to be quench'd.
+
+CLIN. Thou hast prescrib'd a sovereign remedy.
+
+CAS. O, who the devil made her a physician?    [_Aside_.]
+
+CLIN. Let's not obscure what love doth manifest;
+Nor let a stranger's bed make thee seem strange
+To him that ever lov'd and honour'd thee.
+
+MAR. A captain made a captive by loose love
+And gadding fancy! fie, 'twere monstrous shame
+That Cupid's bow should blemish Mars's name:
+Take up thy arms, recall thy drooping thoughts,
+And lead thy troops into the spacious fields.
+
+CAS. She counsels others well, if she would take it.    [_Aside_.]
+
+CLIN. Thou counsellest the blind to lead the blind.
+Can I lead them that cannot guide myself?
+Thou, Marian, must release my captive heart.
+
+MAR. With all my heart I grant thee free release.
+
+CLIN. Thou art obscure too much: but tell me, love,
+Shall I obtain my long-desired love?
+
+MAR. Captain, there is yet somewhat in thy mind
+Thou wouldst reveal, but wantest utterance.
+Thou better knowest to front the braving foe,
+Than plead love-suits.
+
+CLIN. I grant 'tis even so;
+Extremity of passions still are dumb,
+No tongue can tell love's chief perfections:
+Persuade thyself my love-sick thoughts are thine;
+Thou only may'st those drooping thoughts refine.
+
+MAR. Since at my hands thou seek'st a remedy,
+I'll ease thy grief, and cure thy malady.
+No drug the doctor hath shall be too dear;
+His antidote shall fly to do thee good.
+Come in, and let thy eye make choice for thee,
+That thou may'st know how dear thou art to me.
+                         [_Exeunt_ CLINTON, MARIAN.
+
+CAS. Is this obedience? now the devil go with them!
+And yet I dare not; O, she's mankind grown![462]
+O miserable men that must live so,
+And damned strumpet,[463] author of this woe!
+
+    _Enter_ CLINTON, MARIAN.
+
+But peace! be still! they come. O shameless shame!
+Well may the world call thee the devil's dame.
+
+MAR. Captain, thy skill hath pleased me so well,
+That I have vow'd my service to Bellona.
+
+CAS. Her service to Bellona! turn'd stark ruffian!
+She'll be call'd Cavaliero Marian.    [_Aside_.]
+
+CLIN. And I will train thee up in feats of arms,
+And teach thee all the orders of the field;
+That whilst we, like to Mars and Venus, jest,
+The doctor's head may get a gallant crest.
+
+CAS. I can no longer linger my disgrace,
+Nor hide my shame from their detested sight.
+How now, thou whore, dishonour to my bed!
+Disdain to womanhood, shame of thy sex!
+Insatiate monster! corrosive of my soul!
+What makes this captain revelling in my house?
+My house! nay, in my bed! You'll prove a soldier!
+Follow Bellona, turn a martialist!
+I'll try if thou hast learn'd to ward my blows.
+
+MAR. Why, how now, man! is this your madding month?
+What, sir! will you forbid me in good sort
+To entertain my friends?
+
+CAS. Your friends, you whore!
+They are no friends of mine, nor come they here.
+Clinton, avaunt, my house is for no such.
+
+MAR. Alas, good sir! are you grown so suspicious,
+Thus on no proofs to nourish jealousy?
+I cannot kiss a man but you'll be angry.
+In spite of you, or whoso else saith nay,
+My friends are welcome, as they come this way:
+If you mislike it, mend it as you may.
+What, do you think to pin up Marian,
+As you were wont to do your Spanish girls?
+No, sir, I'll be half mistress of myself;
+The other half is yours, if you deserve it.
+
+CLIN. What madness mov'd thee be displeas'd with me,
+That always us'd thee with so kind regard?
+Did I not at thy first arrival here
+Conduct thee to the Earl of London's house?
+
+MAR. Did I not, being unsolicited,
+Bestow my first pure maiden love on thee?
+
+CLIN. Did I not grace thee there in all the court,
+And bear thee out against the daring abbot?
+
+MAR. Did I not forsake many young gallant courtiers,
+Enamoured with thy aged gravity,
+Who, now being weary of me, wouldst disgrace me?
+
+CAS. If there be any conscience left on earth,
+How can I but believe these protestations?
+
+CLIN. Have I not always been thy nearest friend?
+
+MAR. Have I not always been thy dearest wife?
+
+CLIN. How much will all the world in this condemn thee?
+
+MAR. At first I little fear'd what now I find,
+And grieve too late.
+
+CAS. Content thee, gentle dame.
+The nature of our countrymen is such,
+That, if we see another kiss our wives,
+We cannot brook it: but I will be pleas'd;
+For, will I, nill I,[464] so methinks I must.
+And, gentle captain, be not you offended;
+I was too hot at first, but now repent it.
+I prythee, gentle dame, forgive me this,
+And drown all jealousy in this sweet kiss.
+
+CLIN. This shows your wisdom: on, I'll follow you.
+
+MAR. [_Aside_.] Well, doctor, henceforth never reckon[465] it scorn
+At my sweet Clinton's hands to take the horn.
+
+                                              [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT IV., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN GOODFELLOW,[466] _in a suit of leather,
+    close to his body; his face and hands coloured
+    russet-colour, with a flail_.
+
+ROB. The doctor's self would scarce know Robin now.
+Curs'd Marian may go seek another man,
+For I intend to dwell no longer with her,
+Since that the bastinado drove me thence.
+These silken girls are all too fine for me:
+My master shall report of those in hell,
+Whilst I go range amongst the country-maids,
+To see, if homespun lasses milder be
+Than my curs'd dame and Lacy's wanton wife.
+Thus therefore will I live betwixt two shapes;
+When as I list, in this transform'd disguise,
+I'll fright the country-people as they pass;
+And sometimes turn me to some other form,
+And so delude them with fantastic shows.
+But woe betide the silly dairymaids,
+For I shall fleet their cream-bowls night by night.
+And slice the bacon-flitches as they hang.
+Well, here in Croydon will I first begin
+To frolic it among the country lobs.
+This day, they say, is call'd Holyrood-day,
+And all the youth are now a-nutting gone.
+Here are a crew of younkers in this wood,
+Well-sorted, for each lad hath got his lass.
+Marry, indeed, there is a tricksy[467] girl,
+That three or four would fain be doing with,
+But that a wily priest among the rest
+Intends to bear her sheer away from all.
+The miller, and my brother Grim the collier
+Appointed here to scuffle for her love.
+I am on Grim's side; for long time ago
+The devil call'd the collier like to like:[468]
+
+    _Enter_ GRIM, CLACK, PARSON SHORTHOSE, JOAN, _with a bag of nuts_.
+
+But here the miller and the collier come,
+With Parson Makebate and their tricksy girl.
+
+GRIM. Parson, persuade me no more. I come,
+Jug, to your custody; Jug, hold the nut-bag.
+
+CLACK. Nay, I will give you nuts to crack.
+
+GRIM. Crack in thy throat and hauster[469] too.
+
+SHO. Neighbours, I wish you both agree:
+Let me be judge, be rul'd by me.
+
+GRIM. Master Parson, remember what _Pueriles_[470] saith, _Ne accesseris
+ad concilio_, &c. I tell you I found this written in the bottom of one
+of my empty sacks. Never persuade men that be inexecrable. I have vowed
+it, and I will perform it. The quarrel is great, and I have taken it
+upon my own shoulders.
+
+CLACK. Ay, that thou shalt, ere I have done; for I will lay it on,
+i'faith.
+
+GRIM. If you lay it in, I must bear it out, this is all. If you strike,
+I must stand to anything, although it be the biggest blow that you can
+lay upon me.
+
+JOAN. Ye both have ofttimes sworn that ye love me;
+Let me overrule you in this angry mood.
+Neighbours and old acquaintance, and fall out!
+
+ROB. Why, that is, because thou wilt not let them fall in.
+
+GRIM. I say, my heart bleedeth when thou speaketh, and therefore do not
+provoke me. Yet, miller, as I am monstrous angry, so I have a wonderful
+great mind to be repeas'd. Let's think what harm cometh by this same
+fighting; if we should hurt one another, how can we help it? Again,
+Clack, do but here forswear Joan's company, and I'll be thine instead
+of her, to use in all your businesses from Croydon to London; yours,
+Gilbert Grim, the chief collier for the king's majesty's own mouth.
+
+CLACK. O Grim, do I smell you? I'll make you forswear her before we two
+part; and therefore come on to this gear. Collier, I will lay on load,
+and when it is done, let who will take it off again.
+
+JOAN. Yet once more hear me speak: leave off for shame,
+If not for love; and let not others laugh
+To see your follies; let me overrule you.
+
+SHO. Ay, let them fight, I care not: I
+Meantime away with Joan will fly;
+And whilst they two are at it here,
+We two will sport ourselves elsewhere.
+
+ROB. There's a stone priest! he loveth a wench, indeed:
+He careth not though both of them do bleed;
+But Robin Goodfellow will conjure you,
+And mar your match, and bang you soundly too.
+I like this country-girl's condition well;
+She's faithful, and a lover but to one:
+Robin stands here to right both Grim and her.
+
+GRIM. Master Parson, look you to my love.
+Miller, here I stand
+With my heart and my hand
+In sweet Jug's right
+With thee to fight.
+
+CLACK. Come, let us to it then.
+
+    [_They fight_: ROBIN _beateth the miller
+    with a flail, and felleth him_.
+
+ROB. Now, miller, miller dustipoll
+I'll clapper-claw your jobbernole.
+
+SHO. Come, Jug, let's leave these senseless blocks,
+Giving each other blows and knocks.
+
+JOAN. I love my Grim too well to leave him so.
+
+SHO. You shall not choose: come, let's away.
+
+    [SHORTHOSE _pulleth_ JUG _after him_: ROBIN
+    _beateth the priest with his flail_.
+
+ROB. Nay then, sir priest, I'll make you stay.
+
+CLACK. Nay, this is nothing, Grim; we'll not part so.
+I thought to have borne it off with my back sword ward,
+And I receiv'd it upon my bare costard.[471]
+                                   [_They fight again_.
+
+ROB. What, miller, are you up again?
+Nay, then, my flail shall never lin,[472]
+Until I force one of us twain
+Betake him to his heels amain.
+
+                   [ROBIN _beats the miller again_.
+
+CLACK. Hold thy hands, Grim! thou hast murder'd me.
+
+GRIM. Thou liest, it is in mine own offence I do it. Get thee gone then:
+I had rather have thy room than thy company.
+
+CLACK. Marry, with all my heart. O, the collier playeth the devil
+with me.
+
+ROB. No, it is the devil playeth the collier with thee.    [_Aside_.]
+
+SHO. My bones are sore; I prythee, Joan,
+Let's quickly from this place be gone.
+Nay, come away, I love thee so,
+Without thee I will never go.
+
+ROB. What, priest, still at your lechery?
+                [ROBIN _beats the priest_.
+I'll thrash you for your knavery.
+If any ask who beat thee so,
+Tell them 'twas Robin Goodfellow.
+                      [SHORTHOSE _runneth away_.
+
+GRIM. O miller, art thou gone? I am glad of it. I smelt my own infirmity
+every stroke I struck at him. Now, Joan, I dare boldly swear thou art my
+own; for I have won thee in the plain field. Now Master Parson shall
+even strike it up; two or three words of his mouth will make her gammer
+Grim all the days of her life after.
+
+ROB. Here is two well-favoured slaves!
+Grim and I may curse all good faces,
+And not hurt our own.
+
+JOAN. What, my love, how dost thou?
+
+GRIM. Even as a conqueror may do. Jug, for thy sake I have made the
+miller a poor cripple all the days of his life, good for nothing else
+but to be carried into the 'spital-house.
+
+ROB. Ay, there is one lie, for thou didst never hurt him.    [_Aside_.]
+
+JOAN. I am glad thou 'scapedst, my love, and wast not hurt.
+
+GRIM. Who? I hurt? Joan, thou knowest me not yet: thou mayest do better
+hereafter. I gave him five mortal wounds the first five strokes I made
+at him.
+
+ROB. There are five lies clapt into one, for brevity's sake.    [_Aside_.]
+
+GRIM. And presently, upon the fifth blow, I made a dangerous thrust at
+him, and violently overthrew him, horse and foot, and there he lay.
+
+ROB. Nay, there you lie. The collier is excellent
+To be companion to the devil himself.    [_Aside_.]
+
+GRIM. But where's Master Parson?
+
+JOAN. He was well bang'd, and knew not who 'twas did it,
+And would have had me gone away with him.
+Here lieth his nut-bag, and the miller's too:
+They had no leisure to take them away.
+
+GRIM. The better for us, Joan; there is good cracking work: it will
+increase household stuff. Come, let's after the parson; we will comfort
+him, and he shall couple us. I'll have Pounceby the painter score upon
+our painted cloth[473] at home all the whole story of our going a-nutting
+this Holyrood-day; and he shall paint me up triumphing over the miller.
+
+                                               [_Exeunt GRIM and JOAN_.
+
+ROB. So let the collier now go boast at home
+How he hath beat the miller from his love.
+I like this modest country maid so well,
+That I believe I must report in hell
+Better of women than my master can.
+Well, till my time's expir'd, I'll keep this quarter,
+And night by night attend their merry meetings.
+                                       [_Exit ROBIN_.
+
+    _Enter_ DUNSTAN _with_ EARL LACY _sick_.
+
+DUN. Let not your sickness add more feebleness
+Unto your weaken'd age; but give me leave
+To cure thy vain suspicious malady.
+Thy eyes shall witness how thou art deceiv'd,
+Misprizing thy fair lady's chastity:
+For whilst we two stand closely here unseen,
+We shall espy them presently approach.
+
+LACY. O, show me this, thou blessed man of God,
+And thou shalt then make young my withered age.
+
+DUN. Mark the beginning; for here Musgrave cometh.
+
+    _Enter_ MUSGRAVE.
+
+MUS. O thrice unhappy and unfortunate,
+That, having fit occasion proffer'd thee
+Of conference with beauteous Honorea,
+Thou overslipp'd it, and o'erslipp'dst thyself.
+Never since wedlock tied her to the earl,
+Have I saluted her; although report
+Is blaz'd abroad of her inconstancy.
+This is her evening walk, and here will I
+Attend her coming forth, and greet her fairly.
+
+LACY. See, Dunstan, how their youth doth blind our age!
+Thou dost deceive thyself and bringest me
+To see my proper shame and infamy.
+
+    _Enter_ HONOREA.
+
+But here she comes: my hope, my fear, my love.
+
+DUN. Here comes the unstain'd honour of thy bed.
+Thy ears shall hear her virtuous, chaste replies,
+And make thy heart confess thou dost her wrong.
+
+HON. Now modest love hath banish'd wanton thoughts,
+And alter'd me from that I was before,
+To that chaste life I ought to entertain.
+My heart is tied to that strict form of life,
+That I joy only to be Lacy's wife.
+
+LACY. God fill thy mind with these chaste, virtuous thoughts!
+
+MUS. O, now I see her, I am half asham'd
+Of so long absence, of neglect of speech.
+My dearest lady, patroness of beauty,
+Let thy poor servant make his true excuse!
+
+HON. Musgrave, I easily take your excuse,
+Accusing my fond self for what is pass'd.
+
+MUS. Long time we wanted opportunity;
+But now the forelock of well-wishing time
+Hath bless'd us both, that here without suspect
+We may renew the tenor of our loves.
+
+LACY. O Dunstan, how she smiles to hear him speak!
+
+HON. No, child of fortune and inconstancy,
+Thou shalt not train me, or induce my love
+To loose desires or dishonoured thoughts.
+'Tis God's own work that struck a deep remorse
+Into my tainted heart for my pass'd folly.
+
+MUS. O, thou confound'st me! Speak as thou wert won't,
+Like Love herself, my lovely Honorea.
+
+HON. Why, how now, Musgrave! what esteem'st thou me,
+That thou provokest me, that first denied me?
+I will not yield you reasons why I may not,
+More than your own. You told me why you would not.
+
+MUS. By heavens, by thee, my saint, my happiness!
+No torture shall control my heart in this,
+To teach my tongue deny to call thee love.
+
+HON. Well, in regard that in my maiden-days
+I lov'd thee well, now let me counsel thee.
+Reclaim these idle humours; know thyself;
+Remember me, and think upon my lord;
+And let these thoughts bring forth those chaste effects,
+Which may declare thy change unto the world:
+And this assure thee--whilst I breathe this air,
+Earl Lacy's honour I will ne'er impair.
+                                         [_Exit_ HONOREA.
+
+DUN. Now your eyes see that which your heart believ'd not.
+
+LACY. 'Tis a miracle beyond the reach
+Of my capacity! I could weep for joy,
+Would but my tears express how much I love her!
+Men may surmise amiss in jealousy,
+Of those that live in untouch'd honesty.
+
+MUS. Is she departed? and do I conceive
+This height of grief, and do no violence
+Unto myself? Said she I denied her?
+Far be it from my heart to think that thought.
+All ye that, as I do, have felt this smart,
+Ye know how burthensome 'tis at my heart.
+Hereafter never will I prosecute
+This former motion, my unlawful suit;
+But, since she is Earl Lacy's virtuous wife,
+I'll live a private, pensive, single life.
+                                 [_Exit_ MUSGRAVE.
+
+DUN. God doth dispose all at his blessed will;
+And he hath chang'd their minds from bad to good,
+That we, which see't, may learn to mend ourselves.
+
+LACY. I'll reconcile myself to Musgrave's love:
+I will recant my false suspicion,
+And humbly make my true submission.
+
+                                     [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Enter_ MARIAN, _chafing_.
+
+MAR. Say'st thou thou'lt make the house too hot for me?
+I'll soon abroad, and cool me in the air.
+I'll teach him never scorn to drink his health
+Whom I do love. He thinks to overcrow me
+With words and blows; but he is in the wrong,
+Begin he when he dares! O, he's too hot
+And angry to live long with Marian.
+But I'll not long be subject to his rage:
+Here 'tis shall rid him of his hateful life,
+And bless me with the style of widowhood.
+'Twas Harvey's work to temper it so well:
+The strongest poison that he could devise.
+
+    _Enter_ CLINTON.
+
+I have been too long subject to the slave;
+But now I'll cast off that detested yoke.
+
+CLIN. Musgrave, I see, is reconcil'd to th'earl;
+For now I met him walking with Lord Lacy.
+Sure, this is Marian's plot, and there she stands.
+What, love, alone!
+
+MAR. Ay, captain, much disturb'd
+About the frantic doctor's jealousy;
+Who, though he seem'd content when thou wast there,
+He after fell reviling thee and me;
+Robb'd me of all my jewels; locks his plate
+In his own trunk; and let's me only live
+To bear the idle title of his wife.
+
+CLIN. Fair Marian, by a soldier's loyal faith,
+If my employment any way may help
+To set thee free from this captivity,
+Use me in any sort: command my sword;
+I'll do't, as soon as thou shalt speak the word.
+
+MAR. Now, by my true love, which I wish to thee,
+I conjure thee with resolution
+To slay that monster! Do not fail to do it!
+For, if thou dost, I would I had not spoke it.
+
+CLIN. Now try me; and, when next we hap to meet,
+The doctor lies stone dead at Clinton's feet.
+
+MAR. Nay, now I see thou lov'st me.
+
+CLIN. Say no more.
+If thou dost loathe him, he shall die therefore.
+
+MAR. To-morrow morning will he early rise
+To see Earl Lacy: meet him in the cloister,
+And make that place revenge his sanctuary.
+This night will I break open all the trunks,
+Rifle his caskets, rob him of his gold;
+And all the doctor's treasure shall be thine.
+If thou miscarry, yet this drink shall do it.
+
+    _Enter_ CASTILIANO.
+
+CAS. My wife's impatience hath left me alone,
+And made my servant run, I know not whither.
+
+MAR. Peace! here is our eyesore. Clinton, leave us now.
+
+CLIN. Nay, now occasion smiles, and I will do it.
+                           [CLINTON _draweth his sword_.
+
+MAR. Put up thy sword; be it thy morning's work:
+Farewell to-night; but fail me not to-morrow.
+
+CLIN. Farewell, my love. No rest shall close these eyes,
+Until the morning peep; and then he dies.
+                                        [_Exit_ CLINTON.
+
+CAS. [_Soliloq_.] Now I remember, I have quite outrun
+My time prefix'd to dwell upon the earth:
+Yet Akercock is absent: where is he?
+O, I am glad I am so well near rid
+Of my earth's plague and my lascivious dame.
+
+MAR. Hath he discover'd my intendment,
+That he presages his ensuing death?
+I must break off these fearful meditations.
+
+CAS. How shall I give my verdict up to Pluto
+Of all these accidents?
+
+MAR. Why, how now, man?
+
+CAS. What, my dear dame! my reconciled spouse!
+Upon my soul, my love to thee is more
+Now at this present than 'twas e'er before.
+
+MAR. He hath descried me sure, he sootheth me so!    [_Aside_.]
+
+CAS. I love thee now, because I now must leave thee.
+This was the day of my nativity,
+And therefore, sweet wife, let us revel it.
+
+MAR. Nay, I have little cause to joy at all.
+
+CAS. Thou Grossest still my mirth with discontents!
+If ever heretofore I have displeas'd thee,
+Sweet dame, I crave thy pardon now for all.
+This is my birthday, girl, I must rejoice:
+Ask what thou wilt, and I will give it thee.
+
+MAR. Should I but ask to lead a quiet life,
+You hardly would grant this unto your wife;
+Much less a thing that were of more import.
+
+CAS. Ask anything, and try if I'll deny thee.
+
+MAR. O my poor Musgrave, how hast thou been wrong'd,
+And my fair lady!
+
+CAS. Use no preambles,
+But tell me plainly.
+
+MAR. Nay, remember them,
+And join their slander to that love you owe me,
+And then old Lacy's jealousy.
+
+CAS. What then?
+
+MAR. Nay, now I see you will not understand me.
+
+CAS. Thou art too dark; speak plainly, and 'tis done.
+
+MAR. Then doom the earl, and bless poor Musgrave's eyes
+With Honorea's love; for this in thy hands lies.
+
+CAS. How should I doom him?
+
+MAR. How else, but to death?
+
+CAS. As if his life or death lay in my hands?
+
+MAR. He is thy patient, is he not?
+
+CAS. He is.
+
+MAR. Then in thy hands lie both his life and death.
+Sweet love, let Marian beg it at thy hand:
+Why should the grey-beard live to cross us all?
+Nay, now I see thee frown: thou wilt not do it.
+
+CAS. Fie, fie, dame! you are too suspicious.
+Here is my hand, that thou may'st know I love thee;
+I'll poison him this night before I sleep.
+
+MAR. Thou dost but flatter me!
+
+CAS. Tush! I have sworn it.
+
+MAR. And wilt thou do it?
+
+CAS. He is sure to die.
+
+MAR. I'll kiss thy lips for speaking that kind word:
+But do it, and I'll hang about thy neck,
+And curl thy hair, and sleep betwixt thy arms,
+And teach thee pleasures which thou never knew'st.
+
+CAS. Promise no more, and trouble me no more:
+The longer I stay here, he lives the longer.
+I must go to him now, and now I'll do it.
+Go home and hasten supper 'gainst I come:
+We will carouse to his departing soul.
+
+MAR. I will, dear husband; but remember me:
+[_Aside_.] When thou hast poison'd him, I'll poison thee.
+                                          [_Exit_ MARIAN.
+
+CAS. O wonderful, how women can dissemble!
+Now she can kiss me, hang about my neck,
+And soothe me with smooth smiles and lewd entreaties.
+Well, I have promis'd her to kill the earl;
+And yet, I hope ye will not think I'll do it.[474]
+Yet I will sound the depth of their device,
+And see the issue of their bloody drift.
+I'll give the earl, unknown to any man,
+A sleepy potion, which shall make him seem
+As if he were stark dead, for certain hours:
+But in my absence no man shall report
+That for my dame's sake I did any hurt.
+
+                                     [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT V., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ GRIM, _with_ JOAN.
+
+GRIM. Nay, but, Joan, have a care! bear a brain[475] for all at once.
+'Tis not one hour's pleasure that I suspect more than your mother's
+good, countenance. If she be asleep, we may be bold under correction;
+if she be awake, I may go my ways, and nobody ask me, _Grim, whither
+goest thou_? Nay, I tell you, I am so well beloved in our town, that
+not the worst dog in the street will hurt my little finger.
+
+JOAN. Why speak you this? You need not fear my mother,
+For she was fast asleep four hours ago.
+
+GRIM. Is she, sure? Did you hear her snort in her dead sleep? Why then,
+Joan, I have an hour's mirth for thee.
+
+JOAN. And I a mess of cream for thee.
+
+GRIM. Why, there is one for another then: fetch it, Joan; we will eat
+and kiss, and be as merry as your cricket. [_Exit_ JOAN _for the
+cream_.] Art thou gone for it? Well, go thy ways for the kindest lass
+that ever poor collier met withal? I mean for to make short work with
+her, and marry her presently. I'll single her out, i'faith, till I
+make her bear double, and give the world to understand we will have a
+young Grim between us.
+
+    _Enter_ JOAN _with the cream_.
+
+JOAN. Look here, my love, 'tis sweeten'd for thy mouth.
+
+GRIM. You have put none of your love-powder in it, to make me
+enamourable of you, have you, Joan? I have a simple pate, to expect
+you! [_One knocketh at the door_.] Joan, hark, my brains beat, my
+head works, and my mind giveth me: some lovers of yours come sneaking
+hither now; I like it not, 'tis suspectious.
+
+                             [_One knocketh again_.
+
+JOAN. You need not fear it; for there is none alive
+Shall bear the least part of my heart from thee.
+
+GRIM. Say'st thou so? hold there still, and whoe'er he be, open door
+to him.
+
+    _She openeth the door. Enter_ SHORTHOSE, _and_ ROBIN _after him_.
+
+JOAN. What, Master Parson, are you come so late?
+You are welcome; here's none but Grim and I.
+
+SHO. Joan, I'll no more a-nutting go,
+I was so beaten to and fro;
+And yet who it was, I do not know.
+
+GRIM. What, Master Parson, are you come so late to say eveningsong to
+your parishioners? I have heard of your knavery. I give you a fair
+warning; touch her no lower than her girdle, and no higher than her
+chin: I keep her lips and her hips for my own use. I do; and so welcome.
+
+ROBIN. This two hours have I dogg'd the parson round about all Croydon,
+doubting some such thing.    [_Aside_.]
+
+SHO. No, Grim, I here forswear to touch
+Thy Joan, or any other such:
+Love hath been so cudgell'd out of me,
+I'll go no more to wood with thee.
+
+ROB. 'Twas Robin beat this holy mind into him.
+I think more cudgelling would make him more honest.    [_Aside_.]
+
+GRIM. You speak like an honest man and a good parson, and that is more.
+Here's Joan's benevolation for us, a mess of cream and so forth. Here is
+your place, Master Parson. Stand on the t'other side of the table, Joan.
+Eat hard to-night, that thou may marry us the better to-morrow.
+
+ROB. What, is my brother Grim so good a fellow.
+                      [_They fall to the cream_.
+I love a mess of cream as well as they;
+I think it were best I stepp'd in and made one.    [_Aside_.]
+Ho, ho, ho,[476] my masters! No good fellowship!
+Is Robin Goodfellow a bugbear grown,
+                        [ROBIN _falleth to eat_.
+That he is not worthy to be bid sit down?
+
+GRIM. O Lord, save us! sure, he is some country-devil; he hath got a
+russet coat upon his face.
+
+      [GRIM _and_ SHORTHOSE _retire to the back of the stage_.]
+
+SHO. Now, _benedicite_! who is this?
+I take him for some fiend, i-wis;[477]
+O, for some holy-water here
+Of this same place this spirit to clear!
+
+ROB. Nay, fear not, Grim, come fall unto your cream:
+Tut, I am thy friend; why dost not come and eat?
+
+GRIM. I, sir? truly, master devil, I am well here, I thank you.
+
+ROB. I'll have thee come, I say. Why, tremblest thou?
+
+GRIM. No, sir, not I; 'tis a palsy I have still. Truly, sir, I have no
+great acquaintance with you.
+
+ROB. Thou shalt have better, man, ere I depart.
+
+GRIM. I will not, and if I can choose.
+
+ROB. Nay, come away, and bring your love with you.
+
+GRIM. Joan! you were best go to him, Joan.
+
+ROB. What, shall I fetch thee, man? The cream is sweet.
+
+GRIM. No, sir, I am coming: much good do't you. I had need of a long
+spoon, now I go to eat with the devil.[478]
+
+ROB. The parson's penance shall be thus to fast.
+Come, tell me, Grim, dost thou not know me, man?
+
+GRIM. No, truly, sir; I am a poor man fetcheth my living out of the
+fire; your worship may be a gentleman devil, for aught I know.
+
+ROB. Some men call me Robin Goodfellow.
+
+GRIM. O Lord, sir! Master Robert Goodfellow, you are very welcome, sir.
+
+ROB. This half year have I liv'd about this town,
+Helping poor servants to despatch their work,
+To brew and bake, and other husbandry.
+Tut, fear not, maid; if Grim be merry,
+I will make up the match between ye.
+
+GRIM. There will be a match in the devil's name!
+
+ROB. Well, now the night is almost spent,
+Since your affections all are bent
+To marriage and to constant love,
+Grim, Robin doth thy choice approve;
+And there's the priest shall marry you:
+Go to it, and make no more ado:
+Sirrah, sir priest, go get you gone,
+And join both her and him anon;
+But ne'er hereafter let me take you
+With wanton love-tricks, lest I make you
+Example to all stone-priests ever,
+To deal with other men's loves never.
+
+SHO. _Valete vos_, and God bless me,
+And rid me from his company!
+Come, Grim, I'll join you hand in hand,
+In sacred wedlock's holy band.
+I will no more a-nutting go,
+That journey caused all this woe.
+
+GRIM. Come, let's to hand in hand quickly. Master Robert, you were ever
+one of the honestest merry devils that ever I saw.
+
+JOAN. Sweet Grim, and if thou lovest me, let's away.
+
+GRIM. Nay, now, Joan, I spy a hole in your coat: if you cannot endure
+the devil, you'll never love the collier. Why, we two are sworn
+brothers. You shall see me talk with him even as familiarly as if I
+should parbreak[479] my mind and my whole stomach upon thee.
+
+JOAN. I prythee, do not, Grim.
+
+GRIM. Who? not I? O Lord, Master Robert Goodfellow, I have a poor
+cottage at home, whither Joan and I will jog us merrily. We will make
+you no stranger, if you come thither. You shall be used as devilishly
+as you would wish, i'faith. There is never a time my cart cometh from
+London, but the collier bringeth a goose in his sack, and that, with
+the giblets thereof, is at your service.
+
+ROB. This is more kindness, Grim, than I expected.
+
+GRIM. Nay, sir, if you come home, you shall find it true, I warrant
+you. All my whole family shall be at your devilship's pleasure, except
+my poor Joan here, and she is my own proper nightgear.
+
+ROB. Gramercies, but away in haste;
+The night is almost spent and pass'd.
+
+GRIM. God be with you, sir; I'll make as much haste about it as may be;
+for, and that were once done, I would begin a new piece of work with
+you, Joan.
+
+            [_Exeunt all but_ ROBIN.
+
+ROB. Now joy betide this merry morn,
+And keep Grim's forehead from the horn:
+For Robin bids his last adieu
+To Grim and all the rest of you.
+                         [_Exit_ ROBIN.
+
+    _Enter_ CLINTON _alone_.
+
+CLIN. Bright Lucifer, go couch thee in the clouds,
+And let this morning prove as dark as night!
+That I unseen may bring to happy end
+The doctor's murder, which I do intend.
+'Tis early yet: he is not so soon stirring.
+But stir he ne'er so soon, so soon he dies.
+I'll walk along before the palace gate;
+Then shall I know how near it is to-day,
+He shall have no means to escape away.
+
+                           [_Exit_ CLINTON.
+
+    _Enter_ CASTILIANO.
+
+CAS. My trunk's broke open, and my jewels gone!
+My gold and treasure stol'n: my house despoil'd
+Of all my furniture, and nothing left?
+No, not my wife, for she is stol'n away:
+But she hath pepper'd me, I feel it work--
+My teeth are loosen'd, and my belly swell'd;
+My entrails burn with such distemper'd heat,
+That well I know my dame hath poison'd me:
+When she spoke fairest, then she did this act.
+When I have spoken all I can imagine,
+I cannot utter half that she intends;
+She makes as little poisoning of a man,
+As to carouse; I feel that this is true.
+
+    _Enter_ CLINTON.
+
+Nay, now I know too much of womankind.
+'Zounds, here's the captain: what should he make here
+With his sword drawn? there's yet more villany.
+
+CLIN. The morning is far spent; but yet he comes not.
+I wonder Marian sends him not abroad.
+Well, doctor, linger time, and linger life;
+For long thou shalt not breathe upon the earth.
+
+CAS. No, no, I will not live amongst ye long:
+Is it for me thou wait'st, thou bloody wretch?
+Her poison hath prevented thee in murther.
+
+    _Enter_ EARL MORGAN, ST DUNSTAN _with_ HONOREA
+    _fainting, and_ MARIAN.
+
+Now here be they suppose Earl Lacy dead.
+See how this lady grieveth for that she wisheth.
+
+DUN. My Lord of London, by his sudden death,
+And all the signs before his late departure,
+'Tis very probable that he is poison'd.
+
+MAR. Do you but doubt it? credit me, my lord,
+I heard him say that drink should be his last:
+I heard my husband speak it, and he did it.
+
+CAS. There is my old friend, she always speaks for me.
+O shameless creature, was't not thy device?
+
+MOR. Let not extremity of grief o'erwhelm thee,
+My dearest Honorea; for his death shall be
+Surely reveng'd with all severity
+Upon the doctor, and that suddenly.
+
+CLIN. What fortune's this, that all these come this way
+To hinder me, and save thy life to-day?
+
+HON. My gracious lord, this doleful accident
+Hath robb'd me of my joy: and, royal earl,
+Though in thy life thou didst suspect my love,
+My grief and tears suspicions shall remove.
+
+MAR. Madam, to you and to your father's love
+I owe as much and more than my own life.
+Had I ten husbands should agree to do it,
+My gracious lord, you presently should know it.
+
+CAS. Ay, there's a girl! think you I did not well,
+To live with such a wife, to come from hell.
+
+MAR. Look, look, my lord, there stands the murderer!
+
+CAS. How am I round beset on every side!
+First, that same captain here stands to kill me;
+My dame she hath already poisoned me;
+Earl Morgan he doth threaten present death;
+The Countess Honorea, in revenge
+Of Lacy, is extremely incens'd 'gainst me.
+All threaten--none shall do it; for my date
+Is now expired, and I must back to hell.
+And now, my servant, wheresoe'er thou be,
+Come quickly, Akercock, and follow me.
+Lordings, adieu, and my curs'd wife, farewell,
+If me ye seek, come follow me to hell.
+
+      [_The ground opens, and they both fall[480] down into it_.
+
+MOR. The earth that opened now is clos'd again.
+
+DUN. It is God's judgment for his grievous sins.
+
+CLIN. Was there a quagmire, that he sank so soon?
+
+HON. O miracle! now may we justly say,
+Heavens have reveng'd my husband's death this day.
+
+MOR. Alas, poor Marian! we have wrong'd thee much
+To cause thee match thyself to any such.
+
+MAR. Nay, let him go, and sink into the ground;
+For such as he are better lost than found.
+Now, Honorea, we are freed from blame,
+And both enrich'd with happy widow's name[481].
+
+    _Enter_ EARL LACY, _with_ FORREST _and_ MUSGRAVE.
+
+LACY. O, lead me quickly to that mourning train,
+Which weep for me, who am reviv'd again.
+
+HON. Marian, I shed some tears of perfect grief.
+                     [_She falleth into a swoon_.
+
+MOR. Do not my eyes deceive me? liveth my son?
+
+LACY. My lord and father, both alive and well,
+Recover'd of my weakness. Where's my wife?
+
+MAR. Here is my lady, your beloved wife,
+Half dead to hear of your untimely end.
+
+LACY. Look on me, Honorea; see thy lord:
+I am not dead, but live to love thee still.
+
+DUN. 'Tis God disposeth all things, as he will:
+He raiseth those the wicked wish to fall.
+
+CLIN. 'Zounds, I still watch on this enclosed ground;
+For if he rise again, I'll murder him.
+
+HON. My lord, my tongue's not able to report
+Those joys my heart conceives to see thee live.
+
+DUN. Give God the glory: he recovered thee,
+And wrought this judgment on that cursed man,
+That set debate and strife among ye all.
+
+MOR. My lord, our eyes have seen a miracle,
+Which after ages ever shall admire.
+The Spanish doctor, standing here before us,
+Is sunk into the bowels of the earth,
+Ending his vile life by a viler death.
+
+LACY. But, gentle Marian, I bewail thy loss,
+That wert maid, wife, and widow, all so soon.
+
+MAR. 'Tis your recovery that joys me more,
+Than grief can touch me for the doctor's death.
+He never lov'd me whilst he liv'd with me,
+Therefore the less I mourn his tragedy.
+
+MOR. Henceforth we'll strictlier look to strangers' lives,
+How they shall marry any English wives.
+Now all men shall record this fatal day;
+Lacy revived, the doctor sunk in clay.
+
+         [_The trumpets sound, exeunt omnes nisi_ DUNSTAN.
+
+DUN. Now is Earl Lacy's house fill'd full of joy,
+He and his lady wholly reconcil'd,
+Their jars all ended: those, that were like men
+Transformed, turn'd unto their shapes again.
+And, gentlemen, before we make an end,
+A little longer yet your patience lend,
+That in your friendly censures you may see
+What the infernal synod do decree;
+And after judge, if we deserve to name
+This play of ours, _The devil and his dame_.
+                                     [_Exit_.
+
+    _It thunders and lightneth. Enter_ PLUTO, MINOS,
+    AEACUS, RHADAMANTHUS, _with Fury bringing in_
+    MALBECCO'S _Ghost_.
+
+PLU. Minos, is this the day he should return,
+And bring us tidings of his twelvemonth spent!
+
+    _Enter_ BELPHEGOR, _like a devil, with horns
+    on his head, and_ AKERCOCK.
+
+MIN. It is, great king, and here Belphegor comes.
+
+PLU. His visage is more ghastly than 'twas wont.
+What ornaments are those upon his head?
+
+BEL. Hell, I salute thee! now I feel myself
+Rid of a thousand torments. O vile earth,
+Worse for us devils than hell itself for men!
+Dread Pluto, hear thy subject's just complaint
+                [BELPHEGOR _kneeleth to_ PLUTO.
+Proceeding from the anguish of my soul.
+O, never send me more into the earth!
+For there dwells dread and horror more than here.
+
+PLU. Stand forth, Belphegor, and report the truth
+Of all things have betide thee in the world.
+
+BEL. When first, great king, I came into the earth,
+I chose a wife both young and beautiful,
+The only daughter to a noble earl;
+But when the night came that I should her bed,
+I found another laid there in her stead:
+And in the morning when I found the change,
+Though I denied her, I was forc'd to take her.
+With her I liv'd in such a mild estate,
+Us'd her still kindly, lov'd her tenderly;
+Which she requited with such light regard,
+So loose demeanour, and dishonest life,
+That she was each man's whore, that was my wife.
+No hours but gallants flock'd unto my house,
+Such as she fancied for her loathsome lust,
+With whom, before my face, she did not spare
+To play the strumpet. Yea, and more than this,
+She made my house a stew for all resorts,
+Herself a bawd to others' filthiness:
+Which, if I once began but to reprove,
+O, then, her tongue was worse than all the rest!
+No ears with patience would endure to hear her,
+Nor would she ever cease, till I submit[ted]:
+And then she'd speak me fair, but wish me dead.
+A hundred drifts she laid to cut me off,
+Still drawing me to dangers of my life.
+And now, my twelvemonth being near expir'd,
+She poison'd me; and least that means should fail,
+She entic'd a captain to've murdered me.
+In brief, whatever tongue can tell of ill,
+All that may well be spoken of my dame.
+
+AKER. Poor Akercock was fain to fly her sight,
+For never an hour but she laid on me;
+Her tongue and fist walked all so nimbly.
+
+PLU. Doth then, Belphegor, this report of thine
+Against all women hold in general?
+
+BEL. Not so, great prince: for, as 'mongst other creatures,
+Under that sex are mingled good and bad.
+There are some women virtuous, chaste, and true;
+And to all those the devil will give their due.
+But, O, my dame, born for a scourge[482] to man!
+For no mortality [I] would endure that,
+Which she a thousand times hath offered me.
+
+PLU. But what new shapes are those upon thy head?
+
+BEL. These are the ancient arms of cuckoldry,
+And these my dame hath kindly left to me;
+For which Belphegor shall be here derided,
+Unless your great infernal majesty
+Do solemnly proclaim, no devil shall scorn
+Hereafter still to wear the goodly horn.
+
+PLU. This for thy service I will grant thee freely:
+All devils shall, as thou dost, like horns wear,
+And none shall scorn Belphegor's arms to bear.
+And now, Malbecco, hear thy latest doom.
+Since that thy first reports are justified
+By after-proofs, and women's looseness known,
+One plague more will I send upon the earth!
+Thou shalt assume a light and fiery shape,
+And so for ever live within the world;
+Dive into women's thoughts, into men's hearts;
+Raise up false rumours and suspicious fears;
+Put strange inventions into each man's mind;
+And for these actions they shall always call thee
+By no name else but fearful Jealousy.
+Go, Jealousy, begone; thou hast thy charge;
+Go, range about the world that is so large.
+And now, for joy Belphegor is return'd,
+The furies shall their tortures cast away,
+And all hell o'er we'll make it holiday.
+
+      [_It thundereth and lightneth. Exeunt omnes_.
+
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+
+[1] Cooper's "Athenae Cantabrig," ii. 306.
+
+[2] Nash seems to have boasted of his birth earlier than the date of his
+"Lenten Stuff," for G. Harvey, in his "Four Letters," &c., 1592, says:
+"I have enquired what speciall cause the pennyless gentleman hath to
+brag of his birth, which giveth the woeful poverty good leave, even with
+his Stentor's voice, and in his rattling terms, to revive the pitiful
+history of Lazarillo de Thormes."
+
+[3] Not of Hertfordshire, a mistake originally made by Shiel in his
+"Lives of the Poets," thence copied into Berkenhout's "Biographia
+Literaria," and subsequently into the last edition of the "Biographia
+Dramatica." [It is copied also by the editor of a reprint of Nash and
+Marlowe's "Dido," 1825.]
+
+[4] Sig. Q 4.
+
+[5] "For coming from Venice the last summer, and taking Bergamo in my
+way homeward to England, it was my hap, sojourning there some four or
+five days, to light in fellowship with that famous _Francattip_
+Harlequin, who, perceiving me to be an Englishman by my habit and
+speech, asked me many particulars of the order and manner of our plays,
+which he termed by the name of representations. Amongst other talk he
+enquired of me if I knew any such _Parabolano_ here in London as Signior
+_Chiarlatano_ Kempino. 'Very well,' quoth I, 'and have been often in his
+company.' He hearing me say so began to embrace me anew, and offered me
+all the courtesy he could for his sake, saying although he knew him not,
+yet for the report he had heard of his pleasance, he could not but be in
+love with his perfections being absent."
+
+Many of Nash's works furnish evidence that he was well acquainted with
+Italian poets and writers. Some allusions and translations are pointed
+out in the notes to the present reprint of "Summer's Last Will and
+Testament."
+
+[6] It is called "A counter-cuff to Martin junior," &c.
+
+[7] It may be doubted whether Greene and Nash did not contribute to
+bring the occupation of a _ropemaker_ into discredit. Marston, in his
+"_Parasitaster_," printed in 1606, for some reason or other, speaks of
+it in terms of great contempt.
+
+"Then must you sit there thrust and contemned, bareheaded to a grogram
+scribe, ready to start up at the door creaking, prest to get in, with
+your leave sir, to some surly groom, _the third son of a ropemaker_."
+
+[8] There is a MS. poem in the Brit. Mus. (Bibl. Sloan. 1489) entitled
+"The Trimming of Tom Nash," written in metre-ballad verse, but it does
+not relate to our author, though written probably not very long after
+1600, and though the title is evidently borrowed from the tract by
+Gabriel Harvey. Near the opening it contains some notices of romances
+and works of the time, which may be worth quoting--
+
+    "And he as many authors read
+      As ere Don Quixote had.
+    And some of them could say by heart
+      To make the hearers glad.
+
+    "The valiant deeds of Knight o'th' Sun
+      And Rosicleer so tall;
+    And Palmerin of England too
+      And Amadis of Gaul.
+
+    "Bevis of Hampton he had read
+      And Guy of Warwick stout;
+    Huon of Bordeaux, though so long,
+      Yet he had read him out.
+
+    "The Hundred Tales and Scoggin's Jests
+      And Arthur of the Round Table,
+    The twelve Wise men of Gotham too
+      And Ballads innumerable."
+
+[9] It is unnecessary to quote the passage, as the whole tract is
+reprinted both in the old and new editions of the "Harleian Miscellany."
+In his "Almond for a Parrot," Nash adverts to the ticklishness of the
+times, and to the necessity of being extremely guarded in what he might
+write. "If thou (Kemp) will not accept of it in regard of the envy of
+some citizens that cannot away with arguments, I'll prefer it (the book)
+to the soul of Dick Tarlton, who I know will entertain it with thanks,
+imitating herein that merry man Rabelais, who dedicated most of his
+works to the soul of the old Queen of Navarre, many years after her
+death, for that she was a maintainer of mirth in her life. Marry, God
+send us more of her making, and then some of us should not live so
+discontented as we do, for nowadays a man cannot have a bout with a
+ballader, or write _Midas habet aures asininas_, in great Roman letters,
+but he shall be in danger of a further displeasure."
+
+Nash's "Isle of Dogs" was doubtless a satire upon the age, which
+"touched too near" some persons in authority. In the last act of "The
+Return from Parnassus" the Isle of Dogs is frequently spoken of, and
+once as if it were a place of refuge. _Ingenioso_ says: "To be brief,
+_Academico_, writs are out for me to apprehend me for my plays, and now
+I am bound for _the Isle of Dogs_."
+
+[10] Sir J. Harington has an epigram upon the paper war between Harvey
+and Nash.
+
+    TO DOCTOR HARVEY OF CAMBRIDGE.
+
+    "The proverb says, who fights with dirty foes
+    Must needs be soil'd, admit they win or lose:
+    Then think it doth a Doctor's credit dash
+    To make himself antagonist to Nash."
+
+--B. II., _Epigr_. 36.
+
+[11] _Tergimini_ means the three Harveys, for Gabriel took up the
+cudgels for himself and his two brothers.
+
+[12] The death of Nash is spoken of in the address to a tract, which is
+the more curious, as it forms a second part to "Pierce Penniless." It
+has been assigned to Decker, under the title of "News from Hell;" [and
+it was reprinted under the title of "A Knight's Conjuring." This issue
+is included in the Percy Society's series.]
+
+[13] [See the list, however, in "Ath. Cantab.," ii. 307-9, and in
+Hazlitt's "Handbook," in v.]
+
+[14] In 1589 Nash wrote the address prefixed to Robert Greene's
+"Menaphon," which contains notices of various preceding and contemporary
+poets, and which has been admired by all but Mr Malone, for the general
+purity of its style and the justness of its criticism. As Nash was born
+in November 1567, he was only in his twenty-second year when it was
+published.
+
+[15] Parts of "Pierce Penniless, his Supplication to the Devil," are
+written by Nash in a similar strain of bitter grief for past errors,
+especially a poem inserted near the commencement. [As to Nash's
+withdrawal of his apology, see Hazlitt in v.]
+
+    "Why is't damnation to despair and die
+      When life is my true happiness' disease?
+    My soul! my soul! thy safety makes me fly
+      The faulty means that might my pain appease.
+    Divines and dying men may talk of hell,
+    But in my heart her several torments dwell.
+
+    "Ah, worthless wit, to train me to this woe!
+      Deceitful arts that nourish discontent.
+    Ill thrive the folly that bewitch'd me so,
+      Vain thoughts, adieu, for now I will repent.
+    And yet my wants persuade me to proceed,
+    Since none takes pity of a scholar's need."
+
+The last two lines of the first stanza are given to the Father in
+"The Yorkshire Tragedy," attributed to Shakespeare.
+
+[16] This play (if it do not more properly come under the class of
+_shews_, as Nash himself calls it) was not printed until 1600; but
+internal evidence proves that it was written, and probably performed, as
+early as the autumn of 1592. Various decisive marks of time are pointed
+out in notes in the course of the play, the principal of which are, the
+great drought, the progress of Queen Elizabeth to Oxford, and the
+breaking out of the plague. The piece was presented at Croydon, at the
+residence of some nobleman, who is mentioned in many places. The
+theatres in London were closed at this date in consequence of the
+mortality. (See Malone's Shakespeare, by Boswell, in. 299, note). In the
+prologue we are told that the representation was not on a _common
+stage_.
+
+[17] The subsequent account of Will Sommers, or Summer, King Henry the
+Eighth's celebrated fool, is from the pen of Robert Armin, an author and
+actor, who himself often played the clown's part in the time of
+Shakespeare. It is in his "Nest of Ninnies, _simply of themselves,
+without compound_," 1608, 4to--
+
+    "Will Sommers born in Shropshire, as some say,
+    Was brought to Greenwich on a holiday,
+    Presented to the King; which Fool disdain'd
+    To shake him by the hand, or else asham'd:
+    Howe'er it was, as ancient people say,
+    With much ado was won to it that day.
+    Lean he was, hollow-eyed, as all report.
+    And stoop he did too; yet in all the court,
+    Few men were more belov'd than was this Fool,
+    Whose merry prate kept with the King much rule.
+    When he was sad, the King and he would rhime;
+    Thus Will exiled sadness many a time.
+    I could describe him as I did the rest,
+    But in my mind I do not think it best:
+    My reason this--howe'er I do descry him,
+    So many knew him, that I may belie him;
+    Therefore, to please all people, one by one,
+    I hold it best to let that pains alone.
+    Only thus much: he was a poor man's friend,
+    And help'd the widow often in the end.
+    The King would ever grant what he did crave,
+    For well he knew Will no exacting knave;
+    But wish'd the King to do good deeds great store,
+    Which caus'd the court to love him more and more."
+
+Some few of the personal particulars, here omitted, Nash supplies in
+the course of this play. [In 1676 a pamphlet was printed, purporting
+falsely to be] "A pleasant History of the Life and death of Will
+Summers; how he came first to be known at court, and by what means he
+got to be King Henry the Eighth's 'Jester.'" It was reprinted by Harding
+in 1794, with an engraving from an old portrait, supposed to be Will
+Summer; but if it be authentic, it does not at all support Armin's
+description of him, that he was "lean and hollow-eyed." Many of the
+jests are copied from the French and Italian; and [almost all] of them
+have been assigned also to Scoggin and Tarlton. One or two of these are
+introduced into S. Rowley's "When you see me you know me," a historical
+comedy, first printed in 1605, in which Will Summer plays a prominent
+part.
+
+[18] Hor. Lib. i. Epist. 16, I, 62.
+
+[19] Dick Huntley was, perhaps, the book-holder or prompter who is
+subsequently mentioned, and whom Will Summer, in the licence of his
+character, calls by his name. Perhaps his "cousin Ned" was another of
+the actors. Harry Baker is spoken of in the scene, where Vertumnus is
+despatched for Christmas and Backwinter.
+
+[20] [The tract here referred to is Robert Copland's poem, called "Jyl
+of Breyntford's Testament." See Hazlitt's "Handbook," p. 122.] Julian of
+Brentford, or, as she is here called, Gyllian of Braynford, seems to
+have been an old woman who had the reputation of possessing supernatural
+power. In Henslowe's MSS., a play by Thomas Downton and Samuel Ridley,
+called "Friar Fox and Gillian of Brentford," is mentioned under date of
+February 1598-9, but it was acted, as appears by the same authority, as
+early as 5th January 1592. She is noticed in "Westward Hoe!" 1607, where
+Clare says: "O Master Linstock, 'tis no walking will serve my turn: have
+me to bed, good, sweet Mistress Honeysuckle. I doubt that _old hag
+Gillian of Braineford_ has bewitched me." Sig. G 4.
+
+Julian of Brentford's will had been spoken of before by Nash in his
+epistle "to the Gentlemen Students of both Universities," prefixed to
+Greene's "Menaphoii," in 1589. "But so farre discrepant is the idle
+vsage of our unexperienced and illiterated Punies from this
+prescription, that a tale of Joane a Brainfords Will, and the vnlucky
+frumenty, will be as soone entertained into their Libraries as the best
+Poeme that euer Tasso eternisht."
+
+[21] Camden, in his "Annals of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth," thus
+speaks of the ravages of the plague in 1592-3, "For this whole year the
+sickness raged violently in London, Saturn passing through the extreme
+parts of Cancer and the head of Leo, as it did in the year 1563; in so
+much, that when the year came about, there died of the sickness and
+other diseases in the city and suburbs, 17,890 persons, besides William
+Roe, Mayor, and three Aldermen; so that Bartholomew Fair was not kept,
+and Michaelmas term was held at St Alban's, twenty miles from London."
+
+[22] Vertumnus enters at the same time, but his name is not mentioned in
+the old 4to at the opening of the scene. He acts the part of a messenger,
+and, as appears afterwards, was provided with a silver arrow.
+
+[23] Well-flogged.
+
+[24] Hor. lib. i. car. 28--
+
+            "Sed omnibus una manet nox,
+    Et calcanda semel via leti."
+
+[25] "The Queen in her summer progress passed through Oxford, and stayed
+there several days, where she was agreeably entertained with elegant
+speeches, plays, and disputations, and received a splendid treat from
+the Lord Buckhurst, Chancellor of the University."--_Camden's "Annals of
+Elizabeth_." Her progress is again alluded to in that part of the play
+where Summer makes his will--
+
+    "And finally, O words, now cleanse your course,
+    Unto Eliza, that most sacred dame,
+    Whom none but saints and angels ought to name,
+    All my fair days remaining I bequeath,
+    To wait upon her, _till she be return'd_," &c.
+
+[26] The following passage in Gabriel Harvey's "New Letter of Notable
+Contents, 1593," speaking of Nash, confirms the conjecture that
+_Falantado_ or _Falanta_ was the burden of a song or ballad at the
+time:--"Let him be the _Falanta_ down-diddle of rhyme, the hayhohaliday
+of prose, the welladay of new writers, and the cutthroat of his
+adversaries."
+
+[27] The hobby-horse was a basket-horse used in morris-dances and May
+games. See note 37 to Greene's "Tu Quoque."
+
+[28] [Hall, the taborer, mentioned in "Old Meg of Herefordshire," 1609.
+See the reprint in "Miscellanea Antiqua Anglicana," 1816.]
+
+[29] A vulgar colloquialism for laying a girl on the grass.
+
+[30] He ran in debt to this amount to usurers, who advanced him money by
+giving him _lute-strings and grey paper_; which he was obliged to sell
+at an enormous loss. There is a very apposite passage in Nash's
+"Christ's Tears over Jerusalem," 1593, where he is referring to the
+resort of spendthrifts and prodigals to usurers for supplies: In the
+first instance, they obtain what they desire, "but at the second time of
+their coming, it is doubtful to say whether they shall have money or no:
+the world grows hard, and we are all mortal: let them make him any
+assurance before a judge, and they shall have some hundred pounds (_per
+consequence_) in silks and velvets. The third time if they come, they
+have baser commodities: the fourth time _lute-strings and grey paper_;
+and then, I pray pardon me, I am not for you: pay me that you owe me,
+and you shall have anything."
+
+So also in Greene's and Lodge's "Looking Glass for London and England,"
+1594, a gentleman thus addresses a usurer, in hopes of inducing him to
+relent: "I pray you, sir, consider that my loss was great by the
+commodity I took up: you know, sir, I borrowed of you forty pounds,
+whereof I had ten pounds in money, and thirty pounds in _lute-strings_,
+which when I came to sell again, I could get but five pounds for them."
+
+[31] Some case of horse-stealing, which had lately taken place, and
+which had attracted public attention.
+
+[32] See Collier's "Bibliogr. Catal.," ii. 512. Extr. from Stat. Reg.,
+i. 184, and a woodcut in his "Book of Roxburghe Ballads," 1847, p. 103.
+
+[33] The title of an old ballad. Compare Collier's "Extr. from
+Stationers' Registers," i. 7, 19, and Rimbault's "Book of Songs and
+Ballads," p. 83.
+
+[34] The words of Aulus Gellius are these: "Neque mihi," inquit.
+"aedificatio, neque vasum, neque vestimentum ullum est manupreciosum,
+neque preciosus servus, neque ancilla est: si quid est," inquit, "quod
+utar, utor: si non est, egeo: suum cuique per me uti atque frui licet."
+Tum deinde addit: "Vitio vertunt, quia multa egeo; at ego illis quia
+nequeunt egere."--Noct. Attic., lib. xiii. c. 23.
+
+[35] Ovid "Rem. Am." l. 749.
+
+[36] Nash seems, from various parts of his works, to have been well read
+in what are called, though not very properly in English, the burlesque
+poets of Italy. This praise of poverty in the reply of Ver to the
+accusation of Summer is one proof of his acquaintance with them. See
+"Capitolo sopra l'epiteto della poverta, à Messer Carlo Capponi," by
+Matteo Francesi in the Rime Piacevoli del Berni, Copetta, Francesi, &c.,
+vol. ii. p. 48. Edit. Vicenza, 1609--
+
+    "In somma ella non ha si del bestiale,
+    Com' altri stima, perche la natura
+    Del poco si contenta, e si prevale," &c.
+
+[37] [Jesus.]
+
+[38] Sir J. Hawkins, in his "Hist. Music," iv. 479, contends that the
+_recorder_ was the same instrument as that we now term a _flageolet_.
+Some have maintained that it is the _flute_. [See Dyce's "Glossary" to
+his second edit. of _Shakespeare_, in v.]
+
+[39] Chaucer [if at least he had anything to do with the poem,]
+translates _day's-eye_, or _daisy_, into _margarete_ in French,
+in the following stanza from his "Flower and the Leaf"--
+
+    "Whereto they enclined everichon
+    With great reverence and that full humbly,
+    And at the lust there began anon
+    A lady for to sing right womanly
+    A bargaret in praising the _day's-eye_,
+    For as, methought, among her notes swete,
+    She said, _Si douce est la margarete_."
+
+[40] Nash seems often to have quoted from memory, and here he has either
+coupled parts of two lines, so as to make one, or he has invented a
+beginning to the ending of Ovid's "Metam.," ii. 137. [The author seems
+merely to have introduced scraps of Latin, without much regard to their
+juxtaposition.]
+
+[41] [A common subject at shows.]
+
+[42] [A _jeu-de-mots_ on the scale in music and the Latin word _sol_.]
+
+[43] [Some play on words is here probably meant. _Eyesore_ quasi
+_eye-soar_.]
+
+[44] It may be doubtful whether this is the right word. Old copy,
+_sonne_.
+
+[45] [Old copy, _baddest_.]
+
+[46] [Old copy, _Heber_.]
+
+[47] The quarto reads--
+
+    "And as for poetry, _woods_ eloquence."
+
+It is no doubt a misprint for _words' eloquence_, or the eloquence of
+words.
+
+[48] [Old copy, _source_. The emendation was suggested by Collier.]
+
+[49] [Former edits.--"Envy envieth not outcries unrest."
+And so the 4to.]
+
+[50] [Old copy, _slight_.]
+
+[51] On this subject Camden tells us: "There was both this summer (1592)
+and the last so great a drought all England over, that the fields were
+burnt, and the fountains dried up, and a great many beasts perish'd
+everywhere for want of water. The Thames likewise, the noblest river of
+all Britain, and which has as full and large a tide as any in Europe
+(for it flows twice a day above sixty miles from the mouth of it, and
+receives an increase from the mixture of many other streams and rivers
+with it), was, however, sunk to that degree (to the wonder of all men)
+on the 5th September, that a man might ride over it near London Bridge,
+so shallow was the channel."
+
+[52] There seems to be no account of this flood, unless it was that
+which occurred in the autumn of 1579. See Stow's "Annals," edit. 1615,
+fol. 686, and Collier's "Extr. from Stat. Reg.," ii. 105. There was also
+a great partial flood in 1571; but it is not mentioned as having
+affected the Thames.
+
+[53] i.e., Persons who had drunk the Thames water fell ill.
+
+[54] Guesses.
+
+[55] _Had I wist_ is _had I thought_; and the words are often met with
+as the reproof of imprudence. So afterwards again in this play--
+
+    "Young heads count to build on _had I wist_."
+
+[56] Skelton wrote a humorous doggrel piece called the "Tunning of
+Elinor Rummin," which is here alluded to.
+
+[57] This anecdote is from Aulus Gellius, "Noct. Attic.,"
+lib. xvii. c. 9--
+
+"Asiam tune tenebat imperio rex Darius: is Histiaeus, cum in Persia
+apud Darium esset, Aristagorae cuipiam res quasdam occultas nuntiare
+furtivo scripto volebat: comminiscitur opertum hoc literarum admirandum.
+Servo suo diu oculos aegros habenti capillum ex capite omni, tanquam
+medendi gratia, deradit, caputque ejus leve in literarum formas
+compungit: his literis, quae voluerat, perscripsit: hominem postea,
+quoad capillus adolesceret, domo continuit: ubi id factum est, ire ad
+Aristagoram jubet; et cum ad eum, inquit, veneris, mandasse me dicito,
+ut caput tuum, sicut nuper egomet feci, deradat. Servus ut imperatum
+erat, ad Aristagoram venit, mandatumque domini affert: atque ille id
+non esse frustra ratus, quod erat mandatum, fecit: ita literae
+perlatae sunt."
+
+Herodotus "Terps," c. 35, tells the story somewhat differently. The
+following is Mr Beloe's translation of it:--
+
+"Whilst he was in this perplexity, a messenger arrived from Histiaeus at
+Susa, who brought with him an express command to revolt, the particulars
+of which were impressed in legible characters upon his skull. Histiaeus
+was desirous to communicate his intentions to Aristagoras; but as the
+ways were strictly guarded, he could devise no other method. He
+therefore took one of the most faithful of his slaves, and inscribed
+what we have mentioned upon his skull, being first shaved; he detained
+the man till his hair was again grown, when he sent him to Miletus,
+desiring him to be as expeditious as possible: Aristagoras being
+requested to examine his skull, he discovered the characters which
+commanded him to commence a revolt. To this measure Histiaeus was
+induced by the vexation he experienced from his captivity at Susa."
+
+It is pretty evident that Nash took Aulus Gellius as his authority, from
+the insertion of the circumstance of the defective sight of the servant,
+which certainly is important, as giving Histiaeus an excuse for shaving
+his head.
+
+[58] Peter Bales, who is here immortalised, has also received honourable
+mention in Holinshed's Chronicle. He was supposed by Evelyn to be the
+inventor of shorthand, but that art was discovered some years earlier by
+Dr Timothy Bright, who is better known as the author of "A Treatise of
+Melancholy," which was first published in 1586. Bales was born in 1547,
+and many of the incidents of his life have come down to us; for while
+the lives of poets and philosophers are left in obscurity, the important
+achievements of a writing-master are detailed by contemporaries with
+laborious accuracy. Mr D'Israeli, in his "Curiosities of Literature,"
+has not scrupled to devote many pages to Bales's contests for
+superiority with a rival penman of the name of Johnson. Bales was the
+improver of Dr Bright's system, and, according to his own account in his
+"Writing Schoolmaster," he was able to keep pace with a moderate
+speaker. He seems to have been engaged in public life, by acting as
+secretary where caligraphy was required; and he was at length accused of
+being concerned in the plot of Lord Essex; but he was afterwards
+vindicated, and punished his accuser. The greatest performance, that in
+which his exalted fame may most securely rest, was the writing of the
+Lord's Prayer, Creed, Decalogue, with two Latin prayers, in the compass
+of a penny. Brachygraphy had arrived at considerable perfection soon
+after 1600, and in Webster's "Devil's Law Case," there is a trial scene,
+in which the following is part of the dialogue--
+
+    SANITONELLA. Do you hear, officers?
+    You must take special care that you let in
+    No _brachygraphy_ men to take notes.
+
+    1st OFFICER. No. sir.
+
+    SANITONELLA. By no means:
+    We cannot have a cause of any fame,
+    But you must have some scurvy pamphlets and lewd ballads
+    Engendered of it presently.
+
+In Heywood's "Pleasant Dialogues and Dramas," 1637, he complains that
+some persons by stenography had drawn the plot of his play, and put it
+into print; but he adds (which certainly does not tell much in favour of
+the perfection of the art as then practised) that it was "scarce one
+word true."
+
+[59] In the margin opposite "Sol should have been beholding to the
+barber, and not to the beard-master," the words "_Imberbis Apollo_,
+a beardless poet," are inserted in the margin.
+
+[60] From what is said here, and in other parts of the play, we may
+conclude that it was performed either by the children of St Paul's, of
+the Queen's Chapel, or of the Revels. Afterwards Will Summer, addressing
+the performers, says to them: "Learn of him, you _diminutive urchins_,
+how to behave yourselves in your vocations," &c. The epilogue is spoken
+by a little boy, who sits on Will Summer's knee, and who, after it is
+delivered, is carried out.
+
+[61] [See Keightley's "Mythology of Ancient Greece and Italy," p. 411,
+edit. 1854.]
+
+[62] [In allusion to the proverb.]
+
+[63] _Arre_ is meant to indicate the snarling of a dog.
+
+[64] So Machiavelli, in his complete poem, "Dell' Asino d'Oro," makes
+the Hog, who is maintaining the superiority of the brute creation to
+man, say of beasts in general--
+
+    "Questa san meglior usar color che sanno
+    Senz' altra disciplina per se stesso
+    Seguir lor bene et evitar lor danno."--Cap. viii.
+
+[65] [Old copy, _I, and his deep insight_.]
+
+[66] An allusion to Sebastian Brandt's "Ship of Fools," translated by
+Alexander Barclay.
+
+[67] So in "the second three-man's song," prefixed to Dekker's
+"Shoemaker's Holiday," 1600, though in one case the bowl was _black_, in
+the other _brown_--
+
+    "_Trowl the bowl_, the jolly _nut-brown_ bowl;
+      And here, kind mate, to thee!
+    Let's sing a dirge for Saint Hugh's soul,
+      And drown it merrily_."
+
+It seems probable that this was a harvest-home song, usually sung by
+reapers in the country: the chorus or burden, "Hooky, hooky," &c. is
+still heard in some parts of the kingdom, with this variation--
+
+    "Hooky, hooky, we have shorn,
+    And bound what we did reap,
+    And we have brought the harvest home,
+    To make bread good and cheap."
+
+Which is an improvement, inasmuch as harvests are not brought home
+_to town_.
+
+[68] Shakespeare has sufficiently shown this in the character of
+Francis, the drawer, in "Henry IV. Part I."
+
+[69] [A play on the double meaning of the word].
+
+[70] In the original copy this negative is by some accident thrust into
+the next line, so as to destroy at once the metre and the meaning. It is
+still too much in the first line.
+
+[71] This expression must allude to the dress of Harvest, which has many
+ears of wheat about it in various parts. Will Summer, after Harvest goes
+out, calls him, on this account, "a bundle of straw," and speaks of his
+"thatched suit."
+
+[72] A line from a well-known ballad of the time.
+
+[73] [Old copy, _attract_.]
+
+[74] In allusion to the ears of corn, straw, &c., with which he was
+dressed.
+
+[75] Old copy, _God's_.
+
+[76] The exclamations of a carter to his horse. In "John Bon and Mast.
+Person" (Hazlitt's "Popular Poetry," iv. 16), it is _haight, ree_.
+
+[77] Old copy, _had_.
+
+[78] i.e., Cheated.
+
+[79] A play upon the similarity of sound between _vetches_ and
+_fetches_. In the old copy, to render it the more obvious, they are
+spelt alike.
+
+[80] Mr Todd found this word in Baret's "Alveary," 1580, as well as in
+Cotgrave; but he quotes no authority for the signification he attaches
+to it--viz., a _lubber_. Nash could have furnished him with a quotation:
+it means an idle lazy fellow.
+
+[81] Alluding to the attraction of straw by jet. See this point
+discussed in Sir Thos. Brown's "Vulgar Errors," b. ii. c. 4.
+
+[82] [Old copy, _I had_.]
+
+[83] [Old copy, _there_.]
+
+[84] This song is quoted, and a long dissertation inserted upon it, in
+the notes to "Henry IV. Part II." act v. sc. ii., where Silence gives
+the two last lines in drinking with Falstaff. _To do a man right_ was a
+technical expression in the art of drinking. It was the challenge to
+pledge. None of the commentators on Shakespeare are able to explain at
+all satisfactorily what connection there is between _Domingo_ and a
+drinking song. Perhaps we should read Domingo as two words, i.e., _Do_
+[mine] _Mingo_.
+
+[85] [Old copy, _patinis_.]
+
+[86] Horace, lib. i. car. 37--
+
+    "Nunc est bibendum, nunc pede libero
+    Pulsanda tellus."
+
+[87] [Old copy, _epi_.]
+
+[88] [A line out of a ballad.]
+
+[89] Micher, in this place, signifies what we now call a flincher: in
+general, it means a truant--one who lurks and hides himself out of the
+way. See Mr Gifford's short note on Massinger's "Guardian," act iii.
+sc. v., and Mr Steevens' long note on Shakespeare's "Henry IV. Part I."
+act ii. sc. 4.
+
+[90] [Friesland beer. See "Popular Antiquities of Great Britain,"
+vol. ii. p. 259.]
+
+[91] [See Hazlitt's "Proverbs," 1869, p. 271.] Properly _super ungulum_,
+referring to knocking the jack on the thumb-nail, to show that the
+drinker had drained it. Ben Jonson uses it in his "Case is Altered:"
+"I confess Cupid's carouse; he plays _super nagulum_ with my liquor of
+life."--Act iv. sc. 3.--_Collier_.
+
+[92] This was the common cry of the English soldiers in attacking an
+enemy: we meet with it in Marlowe's "Edward II." where Warwick exclaims--
+
+    "Alarum to the fight!
+    _St George for England_, and the Baron's right!"
+
+So also in Rowley's "When you see me, you know me," 1605: "King Arthur
+and his Knights of the Round Table that were buried in armour are alive
+again, crying _St George for England_! and mean shortly to conquer Rome."
+
+[93] From the insertion of _Toy_ in this song instead of _Mingo_, as it
+stands on the entrance of Bacchus and his companions, we are led to
+infer that the name of the actor who played the part of Will Summer was
+_Toy_: if not, there is no meaning in the change. Again, at the end of
+the piece, the epilogue says in express terms: "The great fool Toy hath
+marred the play," to which Will Summers replies, "Is't true, Jackanapes?
+Do you serve me so?" &c. Excepting by supposing that there was an actor
+of this name, it is not very easy to explain the following expressions
+by Gabriel Harvey, as applied to Greene, in his "Four Letters and
+Certain Sonnets, 1592," the year when Nash's "Summer's Last Will and
+Testament" was performed: "They wrong him much with their epitaphs and
+solemn devices, that entitle him not at the least _the second Toy_ of
+London, the stale of Paul's," &c.
+
+[94] _Nipitaty_ seems to have been a cant term for a certain wine. Thus
+Gabriel Harvey, in "Pierce's Supererogation," 1593, speaks of "the
+_Nipitaty_ of the nappiest grape;" and afterwards he says, "_Nipitaty_
+will not be tied to a post," in reference to the unconfined tongues of
+man who drink it.--_Collier_.
+
+[95] A passage quoted in Note 6 to "Gammer Gurton's Needle," from Nash's
+"Pierce Penniless," is precisely in point, both in explaining the word,
+and knocking the cup, can, or jack on the thumb-nail, previously
+performed by Bacchus.
+
+[96] Closely is secretly: a very common application of the word in our
+old writers. It is found in "Albumazar"--
+
+    "I'll entertain him here: meanwhile steal you
+    Closely into the room;"
+
+and in many other places.
+
+[97] Old copy, _Hope_.
+
+[98] Old copy, _as this, like_.
+
+[99] Old copy, _Will_.
+
+[100] The "shepherd that now sleeps in skies" is Sir Philip Sidney, and
+the line, with a slight inversion for the sake of the rhyme, is taken
+from a sonnet in "Astrophel and Stella," appended to the "Arcadia"--
+
+      "Because I breathe not love to every one,
+      Nor do I use set colours for to wear,
+      Nor nourish special locks of vowed hair,
+    Nor give each speech a full point of a groan,
+    The courtly nymphs, acquainted with the moan
+      Of them who in their lips love's standard bear,
+      'What he?' say they of me, 'now I dare swear
+    He cannot love: no, no; let him alone.'
+    And think so still, so Stella know my mind:
+      Profess, indeed, I do not Cupid's art;
+    But you, fair maids, at length this true shall find,
+      That his right badge is but worn in the heart.
+    Dumb swans, not chattering pies, do lovers prove:
+    They love indeed who quake to say they love."
+
+--P. 537, edit. 1598.
+
+It may be worth a remark that the two last lines are quoted with a
+difference in "England's Parnassus," 1600, p. 191--
+
+    "Dumb swans, not chattering pies, do lovers prove;
+    They love indeed who _dare not say_ they love."
+
+In the quarto copy of Nash's play the word _swains_ is misprinted for
+_swans_. The introduction to the passage would have afforded Mr Malone
+another instance, had he wanted one, that shepherd and poet were used
+almost as synonymes by Shakespeare's contemporaries.
+
+[101] Perhaps we ought to read _feign_ instead of _frame_; but _frame_
+is very intelligible, and it has therefore not been altered.
+
+[102] The quarto gives this line thus--
+
+    "Of secrets more desirous _or_ than men,"
+
+which is decidedly an error of the press.
+
+[103] [Old copy, every.]
+
+[104] [Old copy, true hell.]
+
+[105] See act i. sc. 3 of "Macbeth"--
+
+    2D WITCH. I'll give thee a wind.
+
+    1ST WITCH. Thou art kind.
+
+    3D WITCH. And I another.
+
+From the passage in Nash's play, it seems that Irish and Danish witches
+could sell winds: Macbeth's witches were Scotish.
+
+[106] [Old copy, _party_.]
+
+[107] [Old copy, _Form'd_.]
+
+[108] As usual, Nash has here misquoted, or the printer has omitted a
+word. Virgil's line is--
+
+    "_Fama malum, quo non aliud velocius ullum_."
+
+--"Aeneid," iv. 174.
+
+Gabriel Harvey, replying in 1597, in his "Trimming of Thomas Nash,
+Gentleman" (written in the name of Richard Litchfield, the
+barber-surgeon of Trinity College, Cambridge), also alludes to this
+commonplace: "The virtuous riches wherewith (as broad-spread fame
+reporteth) you are endued, though _fama malum_ (as saith the poet) which
+I confirm," &c. Perhaps this was because Nash had previously employed it,
+or it might be supposed that the barber would have been unacquainted
+with it.
+
+[109] A soldier of this sort, or one pretending to be a soldier, is a
+character often met with in our old comedies, such as Lieutenant
+Maweworm and Ancient Hautboy in "A Mad World, my Masters," Captain Face
+in "Ram-Alley," &c.
+
+[110] [_Dii minores_.]
+
+[111] Pedlar's French was another name for the cant language used by
+vagabonds. What pedlars were may be judged from the following
+description of them in "The Pedlar's Prophecy," a comedy printed in
+1595, but obviously written either very early in the reign of Elizabeth,
+or perhaps even in that of her sister--
+
+    "I never knew honest man of this occupation.
+    But either he was a dycer, a drunkard, a maker of shift,
+    A picker, or cut-purse, a raiser of simulation,
+    Or such a one as run away with another man's wife."
+
+[112] [Old copy, _by_.]
+
+[113] _Ink-horn_ is a very common epithet of contempt for pedantic and
+affected expressions. The following, from Churchyard's "Choice," sig.
+E e 1., sets it in its true light--
+
+    "As _Ynkehorne_ termes smell of the schoole sometyme."
+
+It went out of use with the disuse of ink-horns. It would be very easy
+to multiply instances where the word is employed in our old writers. It
+most frequently occurs in Wilson's "Rhetoric," where is inserted an
+epistle composed of _ink-horn terms_; "suche a letter as Wylliam Sommer
+himself could not make a better for that purpose. Some will thinke, and
+swere it too, that there never was any suche thing written: well, I will
+not force any man to beleve it, but I will saie thus much, and abyde by
+it too, the like have been made heretofore, and praised above the
+moone." It opens thus--
+
+"Ponderying, expendying, and revolutying with myself, your urgent
+affabilitee, and ingenious capacitee, for mundaine affaires, I cannot
+but celebrate and extolle your magnificall dexteritee above all other;
+for how could you have adopted such illustrate, prerogative, and
+dominicall superioritee, if the fecunditee of your inginie had not been
+so fertile and wonderfull pregnant?"--Fo. 86. edit. 1553. Wilson
+elsewhere calls them "_ink-pot_ terms."
+
+[114] [The popular idea at that time, and long afterwards, of
+Machiavelli, arising from a misconception of his drift in "Il Principe."
+See an article on this subject in Macaulay's "Essays."]
+
+[115] [Old copy, _toucheth_, which may, of course, be right; but the
+more probable word is that here substituted.]
+
+[116] [The "Ebrietatis Encomium."]
+
+[117] [Perhaps the "Image of Idleness," of which there was an edition in
+1581. See Hazlitt's "Handbook," p. 291, and ibid. Suppl.]
+
+[118] Nash alludes to a celebrated burlesque poem by Francisco Copetta,
+entitled (in the old collection of productions of the kind, made in
+1548, and many times afterwards reprinted), "Capitolo nel quale si
+lodano le Noncovelle." Some of the thoughts in Rochester's well-known
+piece seem taken from it. A notion of the whole may be formed from the
+following translation of four of the _terze rime_--
+
+    "_Nothing_ is brother to primaeval matter,
+    'Bout which philosophers their brains may batter
+    To find it out, but still their hopes they flatter.
+
+    "Its virtue is most wondrously display'd,
+    For in the Bible, we all know, 'tis said,
+    God out of _nothing_ the creation made.
+
+    "Yet _nothing_ has nor head, tail, back, nor shoulder,
+    And tho' than the great _Dixit_ it is older,
+    Its strength is such, that all things first shall moulder.
+
+    "The rank of _nothing_ we from this may see:
+    The mighty Roman once declared that he
+    Caesar or _nothing_ was resolv'd to be."
+
+[But after all, had not Nash more probably in his recollection Sir
+Edward Dyer's "Praise of Nothing," a prose tract printed in 1585?]
+
+[119] [See Hazlitt's "Handbook," v. Fleming.]
+
+[120] [Alluding to the "Grobianus et Grobiana" of Dedekindus.]
+
+[121] Ovid's lines are these--
+
+    "Discite, qui sapitis, non quae nos scimus inertes,
+    Sed trepidas acies, et fera castra sequi."
+
+--"Amorum," lib. iii. el. 8.
+
+[122] The author of "The World's Folly," 1615, uses _squitter-wit_ in
+the same sense that Nash employs _squitter-book_: "The _primum mobile_,
+which gives motion to these over-turning wheels of wickedness, are
+those mercenary _squitter-wits_, miscalled poets."
+
+In "The Two Italian Gentlemen," the word _squitterbe-book_, or
+_squitter-book_, is found, and with precisely the same signification
+which Nash gives it--
+
+    "I would mete with the scalde _squitterbe-booke_ for this geare."
+
+[123] His _nown_, instead of his _own_, was not an uncommon corruption.
+So Udall--"Holde by his yea and nay, be his _nowne_ white sonne."
+
+[124] [Old copy, _Fuilmerodach_.]
+
+[125] _Regiment_ has been so frequently used in the course of these
+volumes, in the sense of government or rule, that it is hardly worth
+a note.
+
+[126] This is, of course, spoken ironically, and of old, the expression
+_good fellow_ bore a double signification, which answered the purpose of
+Will Summer. Thus, in Lord Brooke's "Caelica," sonnet 30--
+
+    "_Good fellows_, whom men commonly doe call.
+    Those that do live at warre with truth and shame."
+
+Again, in Heywood's "Edward IV. Part I.," sig. E 4--
+
+    "KING EDWARD. Why, dost thou not love a _good fellow_?
+
+    "HOBS. No, _good fellows_ be _thieves_."
+
+[127] Henry Baker was therefore the name of the actor who performed the
+part of Vertumnus.
+
+[128] The joke here consists in the similarity of sound between
+_despatch_ and _batch_, Will Summers mistaking, or pretending to
+mistake, in consequence.
+
+[129] [Old copy, _Sybalites_.]
+
+[130] This is still, as it was formerly, the mode of describing the
+awkward bowing of the lower class. In the "Death of Robert Earl of
+Huntington," 1601, when Will Brand, a vulgar assassin, is introduced
+to the king, the stage direction to the actor in the margin is,
+"_Make Legs_."
+
+[131] A proverb in [Heywood's "Epigrams," 1562. See Hazlitt's
+"Proverbs," 1869, p. 270. Old copy, _love me a little_.]
+
+[132] [Old copy, _deny_.]
+
+[133] The meaning of the word _snudge_ is easily guessed in this place,
+but it is completely explained by T. Wilson, in his "Rhetoric," 1553,
+when he is speaking of a figure he calls _diminution_, or moderating the
+censure applied to vices by assimilating them to the nearest virtues:
+thus he would call "a _snudge_ or _pynche-penny_ a good husband, a
+thrifty man" (fo. 67). Elsewhere he remarks: "Some riche _snudges_,
+having great wealth, go with their hose out at heels, their shoes out at
+toes, and their cotes out at both elbowes; for who can tell if such men
+are worth a grote when their apparel is so homely, and all their
+behavior so base?" (fo. 86.) The word is found in Todd's Johnson, where
+Coles is cited to show that _snudge_ means "one who hides himself in a
+house to do mischief." No examples of the employment of the word by any
+of our writers are subjoined.
+
+[134] Mr Steevens, in a note to "Hamlet," act iv. sc. 5, says that he
+thinks Shakespeare took the expression of _hugger-mugger_ there used
+from North's Plutarch, but it was in such common use at the time that
+twenty authors could be easily quoted who employ it: it is found in
+Ascham, Sir J. Harington, Greene, Nash, Dekker, Tourneur, Ford, &c. In
+"The Merry Devil of Edmonton" also is the following line--
+
+    "But you will to this gear in _hugger-mugger_."
+
+[135] It is not easy to guess why Nash employed this Italian word
+instead of an English one. _Lento_ means lazy, and though an adjective,
+it is used here substantively; the meaning, of course, is that the idle
+fellow who has no lands begs.
+
+[136] i.e., Hates. See note to "Merchant of Venice," act v. sc. 1.
+
+[137] [Old copy, _Hipporlatos_. The emendation was suggested by
+Collier.]
+
+[138] The reader is referred to "Romeo and Juliet," act i. sc. 4,
+respecting the strewing of rushes on floors instead of carpets. Though
+nothing be said upon the subject, it is evident that Back-winter makes a
+resistance before he is forced out, and falls down in the struggle.
+
+[139] [Soiling: a common word in our early writers. Old copy,
+_wraying_.]
+
+[140] _I pray you, hold the book well_, was doubtless addressed to the
+prompter, or as he is called in the following passage, from the
+Induction to Ben Jonson's "Cynthia's Revels," 1601, the _book-holder_:
+one of the children of Queen Elizabeth's chapel is speaking of the poet.
+"We are not so officiously befriended by him as to have his presence in
+the 'tiring house to _prompt_ us aloud, stampe at the _booke-holder_,
+sweare for our properties, curse the poor tire-man, raile the musicke
+out of tune, and sweat for every veniall trespasse we commit, as some
+author would."
+
+[141] [Old copy, _cares_. The word _murmuring_ is, by an apparent error,
+repeated in the 4to from the preceding line.]
+
+[142] [Old copy, _ears_.]
+
+[143] Ready.
+
+[144] This line fixes the date when "Summer's Last Will and Testament"
+was performed very exactly--viz., during Michaelmas Term, 1593; for
+Camden informs us in his "Annals," that in consequence of the plague,
+Michaelmas Term, instead of being held in London, as usual, was held at
+St Albans.
+
+[145]     "Deus, Deus, ille, Menalca!
+    Sis bonus o felixque tuis."
+                 --Virgil "Ecl." v. 64.
+
+[146] These words, which are clearly a stage direction, and which show
+how mere a child delivered the Epilogue, in the old copy are made part
+of the text.
+
+[147] Malone originally supposed the plays to be by Heywood, and so
+treated them. In the last edit. of Shakespeare by Boswell (iii. 99) the
+mistake is allowed to remain, and in a note also "The Downfall of Robert
+Earl of Huntington" is quoted as Heywood's production.
+
+[148] Ritson, in his "Robin Hood," I. li. et seq., gives some
+quotations from them, as by Munday and Chettle.
+
+[149] Mr Gifford fell into an error (Ben Jonson, vi. 320) in stating
+that "The Case is Altered" "should have stood at the head of Jonson's
+works, had chronology only been consulted." In the "Life of Ben Jonson,"
+he refers to Henslowe's papers to prove that "Every Man in his Humour"
+was written in 1596, and in "The Case is Altered," Ben Jonson expressly
+quotes Meres' "Palladia Tamia," which was not published until 1598.
+Nash's "Lenten Stuff," affords evidence that "the witty play of 'The
+Case is Altered'" was popular in 1599.
+
+[150] On the title-page of his translation of "Palmerin of England," the
+third part of which bears date in 1602, he is called "one of the
+Messengers of her Majesty's Chamber;" but how, and at what date he
+obtained this "small court appointment," we are without information.
+Perhaps it was given to him as a reward for his services in 1582.
+
+[151] Munday did not always publish under his own name, and according to
+Ritson, whose authority has often been quoted on this point, translated
+"The Orator, written in French by Alexander Silvayn," under the name of
+Lazarus Piot, from the dedication to which it may be inferred that he
+had been in the army. "A ballad made by Ant. Munday, of the
+encouragement of an English soldier to his fellow mates," was licenced
+to John Charlewood, in 1579.
+
+[152] [See the more copious memoir of Munday by Mr Collier, prefixed to
+the Shakespeare Society's edit. of his "John-a-Kent," &c., 1851.]
+
+[153] That is, no printed copy has yet been discovered, although it may
+have passed through the press.
+
+[154] In Henslowe's MSS. this play is also called, "The First part of
+Cardinal Wolsey."
+
+[155] In 1620 was printed "The World toss'd at Tennis, by Thomas
+Middleton and William Rowley." Perhaps it is the same play, and Munday
+had a share in the authorship of it. [This is not at all probable.]
+
+[156] There is no list of characters prefixed to the old copy.
+
+[157] This forms the Induction to the play, which purports to have been
+written to be performed before Henry VIII., by Sir Thomas Mantle, who
+performed Robin Hood, by Sir John Eltham, who played the part of Little
+John, by Skelton, who acted Friar Tuck, by "Little Tracy," as he is
+called, who supported the character of Maid Marian, and others, whose
+names are not mentioned. The whole is only supposed to be a rehearsal
+prior to the representation of the piece before the king, and in the
+course of it Skelton and Sir John Eltham have various critical and
+explanatory interlocutions. Skelton, it will be observed, also
+undertakes the duty of interpreting the otherwise "inexplicable
+dumb-show." The old copy is not divided into acts and scenes.
+
+[158] [Old copy, _your_.]
+
+[159] [In the old copy this direction is unnecessarily repeated in
+detail.]
+
+[160] [The direction inserted on p. 107 is repeated in full in the 4to.]
+
+[161] This is in some sort a parody upon the well-known proverb, which
+is thus given by Ray--
+
+    "Many talk of Robin Hood, that never shot in his bow,
+     And many talk of Little John, that never did him know."
+
+It is also found in Camden's "Remains," by Philpot, 1636, p. 302, though
+the two lines, obviously connected in sense, are there separated. [See
+also Hazlitt's "Proverbs," 1869, p. 276.]
+
+[162] This sort of verse, from the frequent use of it made by Skelton in
+his poems, acquired the name of _Skeltonic_ or _Skeltonical_. According
+to the manner in which the poet's character is drawn, he could not avoid
+falling into the use of it, even out of its place, in the course of the
+play; and of this a singular instance is given after the capture and
+discovery of Ely, when Sir John Eltham, in one of the interlocutions,
+complains of Skelton that in performing the part of Friar Tuck he fell--
+
+                       "Into the vein
+    Of ribble-rabble rhimes Skeltonical."
+
+In 1589 was published a tract with the following curious title--
+
+    "A Skeltonical salutation,
+    Or condigne gratulation,
+    And just vexation
+    Of the Spanish nation;
+    That in bravado
+    Spent many a crusado
+    In setting forth an Armado
+    England to invado."
+
+The whole piece is in this kind of verse. A copy of it is in the British
+Museum.
+
+Puttenham, speaking of poetry of this sort, says: "Such were the rimes
+of Skelton (usurping the name of Poet Laureat), being in deede but a
+rude, rayling rimer, and all his doings ridiculous; he used both short
+distances and short measures, pleasing onely to the popular eare; in our
+courtly maker we banish them utterly."--_Arte of English Poesie_, 1589,
+p. 69.
+
+[163] Matilda is here, and elsewhere, called Marian, before in fact she
+takes that name; and after she has assumed it, in the course of the play
+she is frequently called Matilda.
+
+[164] [Old copy, _Into_.]
+
+[165] Jest is used in the same sense in "The Spanish Tragedy," act i.,
+where the king exclaims--
+
+    "But where is old Hieronimo, our marshal?
+    He promis'd us, in honour of our guest,
+    To grace our banquet with some pompous _jest_."
+
+Dr Farmer, in reference to the line in "Richard II., act i. sc. 3--
+
+    "As gentle and as jocund as to _jest_,"
+
+quotes the above passage from "The Spanish Tragedy" to show that to
+_jest_, "in old language, means _to play a part in a mask_."
+
+[166] [Old copy, _my_.]
+
+[167] [Old copy, _place_.]
+
+[168] Ritson has the following note upon this sign: "That is, the inn so
+called, upon Ludgate Hill. The modern sign, which, however, seems to
+have been the same 200 years ago, is _a bell_ and _a wild man_; but the
+original is supposed to have been _a beautiful Indian_, and the
+inscription, _La belle Sauvage_. Some, indeed, assert that the inn once
+belonged to a Lady _Arabella Sauvage_; and others that its name
+originally, the _belle_ and _Sauvage_, arose (like the _George and Blue
+Boar_) from the junction of two inns with those respective signs. _Non
+nostrum est tantas componere lites_." "Robin Hood," I. p. liv.
+
+[169] [Old copy, _meant_.]
+
+[170] Little John's _exit_ is marked here in the old copy, but it does
+not take place till afterwards: he first whispers Marian, as we are told
+immediately, _John_ in the original standing for Little John.
+
+[171] i.e., A collection or company, and not, as we now use the word,
+a _kind_ "of fawning sycophants."
+
+[172] i.e., Made a Justice of Peace of him, entitling him to the style
+of _Worship_.
+
+[173] [Old copy, _ran_.]
+
+[174] i.e., "I shall _be even_ with you." So Pisaro in Haughton's
+"Englishmen for my Money," says of his three daughters--
+
+    "Well, I shall find a tune _to meet_ with them."--Sig. E 2.
+
+[175] Alluding to the challenges of the officers who are aiding and
+assisting the Sheriff.
+
+[176] Paris Garden (or as it is printed in the old copy, _Parish_
+Garden), was a place where bears were baited and other animals kept.
+Curtal was a common term for a small horse, and that which Banks owned,
+and which acquired so much celebrity for its sagaciousness, is so called
+by Webster--
+
+    "And some there are
+    Will keep a _curtal_ to show juggling tricks,
+    And give out 'tis a spirit."
+
+--"Vittoria Corombona," [Webster's Works, by Hazlitt, ii. 47.]
+
+_Sib is related to_; and perhaps _the ape's only least at Paris Garden_,
+may apply to Banks's pony. Dekker, in his "Villanies Discovered," 1620,
+mentions in terms "Bankes his Curtal."
+
+[177] In the course of the play John is sometimes called _Earl_ John,
+and sometimes _Prince_ John, as it seems, indifferently.
+
+[178] [Old copy, _deceive_.]
+
+[179] It must be recollected that the Queen and Marian have exchanged
+dresses.
+
+[180] [Old copy, _must_.]
+
+[181] [Old copy, _sovereign's mother, queen_.]
+
+[182] [Old copy, _cankers_]
+
+[183] [Old copy, _thrust_.]
+
+[184] _Haught_ is frequently used for _haughty_, when the poet wants to
+abridge it of a syllable: thus Shakespeare, in "Richard III." act ii.
+sc. 3--
+
+    "And the queen's sons and brothers _haught_ and proud."
+
+He has also "the _haught_ Northumberland" and "the _haught_ Protector."
+
+Kyd in "Cornelia," act iv., also has this line--
+
+    "Pompey, the second Mars, whose _haught_ renown."
+
+[185] [Old copy, _Ah, my good Lord, for, etc_.]
+
+[186] i.e., Shall not _separate_ us till we die. See Gifford's note to
+"The Renegado."--Massinger's Works, ii. 136.
+
+[187] _Palliard_ is to be found in Dryden's "Hind and Panther:"
+_palliardize_ is not in very common use among our old writers. Dekker,
+in his "Bellman of London," 1616, sig. D 2, gives a description of a
+_Palliard_. Tuck's exclamation looks as if it were quoted.
+
+[188] In the old copy, Scarlet and Scathlock are also mentioned as
+entering at this juncture, but they were on the stage before.
+
+[189] The _mistake_ to which Warman alludes is, that Friar Tuck takes
+part with Robin Hood, instead of assisting the Sheriff against him.
+
+[190] This incident, with some variations, is related in the old ballad
+of "Robin Hood rescuing the Widow's _three_ sons from the Sheriff, when
+going to be executed." See Ritson's "Robin Hood," ii. 151.
+
+[191] The old copy has a blank here; but whether it was so in the
+original MS., whether a line has dropped out by accident, or whether it
+was meant that Much should be suddenly interrupted by Robin Hood, must
+be matter of conjecture.
+
+[192] So printed in the old copy, as if part of some poetical narrative.
+
+[193] i.e., _Gang_. So written by Milton, Jonson, and many of our best
+authors.
+
+[194] [Old copy, _all your_.]
+
+[195] [Old copy, _never wife_.]
+
+[196] [Old copy, _in a loath'd_.]
+
+[197] [Own, from the Latin _proprius_.]
+
+[198] _To lie at the ward_ was, and is still, a term in fencing; thus
+Fairfax, translating the fight between Tancred and Argantes in the 6th
+book of Tasso's "Jerusalem Delivered," says--
+
+    "Close _at his surest ward_ each champion _lieth_."
+
+--"Godfrey of Bulloigne," 1600.
+
+[199] The _exit_ of Salisbury is not marked, but it of course takes
+place here.
+
+[200] It seems singular that the author of this play should confound two
+such persons as the Shoemaker of Bradford, who made all comers "vail
+their staves," and George-a-Greene, the Pinner of Wakefield; yet such is
+the case in the text. The exploits of both are celebrated in the play of
+"The Pinner of Wakefield" (in Dyce's editions of Greene's Works), which
+seems to have been popular. Nevertheless Henslowe in his MSS. speaks of
+George-a-Greene as one dramatic piece, and of "The Pinner of Wakefield"
+as another, as if they were two distinct heroes. See "Malone's
+Shakespeare," by Boswell, iii. 300. Munday also makes Scathlock and
+Scarlet two separate persons. [Munday does not confound the Pinder of
+Wakefield with the Bradford hero, for he expressly distinguishes between
+them; but he errs in giving the latter the name of George-a-Greene.]
+
+[201] To _record_, as applied to birds, is synonymous to the verb to
+_sing_: thus in "The Spanish Tragedy," act ii.--
+
+    "Hark, madam, how the _birds record_ by night."
+
+Shakespeare so employs the word in his "Two Gentlemen of Verona," act v.
+sc. 4, and in the notes upon the passage more than sufficient instances
+are collected.
+
+[202] The 4to reads "the lawless _Rener_" [the _n_ being misprinted
+for _u_].
+
+[203] _Mort_ was the old cant word for a _wench_, and was synonymous
+with _doxy_, which is still sometimes in use. An explanation, for such
+as require it, may be found in Dekker'a "Bellman of London," ed. 1616,
+sig. N.
+
+[204] Mr Todd, in his "Dictionary," thus explains the word _belive_:
+"Speedily, quickly; it is still common in Westmoreland for _presently_,
+which sense, implying a little delay, like our expression of _by and
+by_, was formerly the general acceptation of the word." Spenser uses it
+not unfrequently--
+
+    "Perdie, Sir Knight," said then the enchanter _b'live_,
+    "That shall I shortly purchase to your bond."
+
+--"Faerie Queene," b. ii. c. iii. st. 18.
+
+[205] _Manchet_ is fine white bread: _panis candidior et purior_.
+
+[206] It seems agreed by the commentators on the word _proface_ (which
+Shakespeare uses in "Henry IV. Part II.," act v. sc. 3), that it means
+in fact what Robin Hood has already said: "Much good may it do you." It
+is disputed whether it be derived from the French or the Italian; Mr
+Todd gives _prouface_ as the etymology, and Malone _pro vi faccia_, but
+in fact they are one and the same. It occurs in "The Widow's Tears," act
+iv. sc. 1, where Ero is eating and drinking in the tomb. [Compare Dyce's
+"Shakespeare," 1868, Gloss, in v.]
+
+[207] The 4to terms them _poting_ sticks, and so sometimes they were
+called, instead of _poking_ sticks. They were used to plait and set
+ruffs.
+
+[208] The old copy here repeats, in part, the preceding stage direction,
+viz., _Enter Friar like a pedlar, and Jenny_, which must be an error, as
+they are already on the stage; in fact, only Sir Doncaster and his armed
+followers enter. The _exit_ of Robin Hood, with Marian and Fitzwater, is
+not noticed.
+
+[209] i.e., Thrive.
+
+[210] The rhyme is made out by reading _certainly_, but the old copy,
+[which is printed as prose.] has it _certain_.
+
+[211] This stage direction, like many others, is not marked.
+
+[212] So in "Henry VI. Part III." act iii. sc. 3: "Did I _impale_ him
+with the regal crown?" This use of the word is common.
+
+[213] [Old copy, _light_.]
+
+[214] See Mr Steevens' note on "Henry VIII.," act v. sc. 3.
+
+[215] These two lines clearly belong to the Prior, though the old copy
+omits his name before them.
+
+[216] i.e., Vengeance.
+
+[217] [Old copy, _Souldans_.]
+
+[218] In the old copy _soldiour's_.
+
+[219] See Mr Gifford's note (6) to "The Maid of Honour," Massinger's
+Works, iii. 47, for an explanation of the origin and use of this
+expression of contempt. See also Malone's remarks upon the passage in
+"Twelfth Night," act iii. sc. 4: "He is a knight dubb'd with an
+unhatch'd rapier and on _carpet_ consideration."
+
+[220] On the standard by which Leicester was attended on his entrance,
+no doubt the crest of that family, viz., a bear and ragged staff, was
+represented. To this the queen refers when she exclaims--
+
+    "Were this _bear_ loose, how he would tear our maws."
+
+[221] [Old copy, _Bear, thou hast_. Leicester was accompanied by his
+ancient, whose entrance is marked above.]
+
+[222] _Quite_ is frequently used for _requite_: as in Massinger's "Old
+Law," act ii. sc. 2--
+
+    "In troth, Eugenia, I have cause to weep too;
+    But when I visit, I come comfortably,
+    And look to be so _quited_."
+
+[223] Although the old copy mentions no more at the beginning of this
+interview than _Enter Leicester, drum and ancient_, yet according to
+this speech he must either have been more numerously attended, or some
+of his followers came upon the stage during his dispute with the king
+and queen.
+
+[224] The return of Leicester and Richmond, after their _exit_ just
+before, is not mentioned in the 4to.
+
+[225] [Old copy, _Come off, off_.]
+
+[226] _Guests_ were often formerly spelt _guess_, whether it were or
+were not necessary for the rhyme.
+
+[227] The stage direction in the original is only _Enter Robin_.
+
+[228] This must have been spoken aside to Robin Hood.
+
+[229] [Old copy, _soon_.]
+
+[230] [This passage appears to point to some antecedent drama not at
+present known.]
+
+[231] The 4to has it _Damn'd Judaism_, but the allusion is to the
+treachery of Judas. The jailer of Nottingham afterwards calls Warman
+Judas.
+
+[232] [Old copy, _him_.]
+
+[233] In the old copy this is made a part of what Warman speaks, which
+is a mistake, as is evident from the context.
+
+[234] Her _exit_ and re-entrance are not marked in the old copy. Perhaps
+she only speaks from a window.
+
+[235] ["A term of contempt," says Halliwell in v.; but does it not
+refer strictly to a card-sharper?]
+
+[236] He blunders. Of course he means "when tidings came to his ears."
+He does not make much better of his prose.
+
+[237] Current.
+
+[238] This is from the old ballad, "The Jolly Pinder of Wakefield, with
+Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John," with variations--
+
+    "At Michaelmas next my cov'nant comes out
+      When every man gathers his fee;
+    Then I'll take my blue blade all in my hand,
+      And plod to the greenwood with thee."
+
+--Ritson's "Robin Hood," ii. 18.
+
+[239] It is evident that Friar Tuck here gives John a sword.
+
+[240] [Light, active. See Nares, edit. 1859, in v.]
+
+[241] The origin of _amort_ is French, and sometimes it is written
+_Tout-a-la-mort_, as in "The Contention between Liberality and
+Prodigality," 1602, sig. B, as pointed out in a note to "Ram Alley."
+
+[242] [Query, best hanged? He refers to the ex-sheriff.]
+
+[243] _Defy_ is here used in the sense of _refuse_, which was not
+uncommon: thus in the "Death of Robert Earl of Huntington," we have this
+passage, "Or, as I said, for ever I _defy_ your company." In the "Four
+'Prentices of London," act i. sc. 1, the old Earl of Boulogne says--
+
+    "Vain pleasures I abhor, all things _defy_,
+    That teach not to despair, or how to die."
+
+Other instances are collected in a note to the words, "I do _defy_ thy
+conjuration," from "Romeo and Juliet," act v. sc. 3.
+
+[244] Their entrance is not marked in the original.
+
+[245] [Old copy, _sweet_.]
+
+[246] It will be seen from the introduction to this play, that Munday
+and others, according to Henslowe, wrote a separate play under the title
+of "The Funeral of Richard Cordelion." [The latter drama was not written
+till some months after this and the ensuing piece, and was intended as a
+sort of sequel to the plays on the history of Robin Hood.]
+
+[247] Misprinted _Dumwod_ in the old copy.
+
+[248] Two lines in the Epilogue might be quoted to show that only one
+author was concerned in it--
+
+    "Thus is Matilda's story shown in act,
+    And rough-hewn out by _an_ uncunning hand."
+
+But probably the assertion is not to be taken strictly; or if it be, it
+will not prove that Chettle had no hand, earlier or later, in the
+authorship. Mr Gifford in his Introduction to Ford's Works, vol. i.
+xvi., remarks very truly, that we are not to suppose from the
+combination of names of authors "that they were always simultaneously
+employed in the production of the same play;" and Munday, who was
+perhaps an elder poet than Chettle, may have himself originally written
+both parts of "The Earl of Huntington," the connection of Chettle with
+them being subsequent, in making alterations or adapting them to the
+prevailing taste.
+
+[249] See "The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington," _Introd_. pp. 95,
+96, ante.
+
+[250] See "Restituta," ii. 367 (note).
+
+[251] "Bibl. Poet." 159. [But see Hazlitt's "Handbook," v. C. II.]
+
+[252] [Henslowe's "Diary," 1845, p. 147. See also Collier's "Memoirs of
+the Actors in Shakespeare's Plays," p. 111.]
+
+[253] Introduction to "Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington," pp. 101,
+102.
+
+[254] With the letters R.A. on the title-page. [But surely it is very
+doubtful whether the play printed in 1615 (and again in 1663) is the
+same as that mentioned by Henslowe.]
+
+[255] [Unless it be the drama printed in 1604 under the title of the
+"Wit of a Woman."]
+
+[256] [Possibly a revival, with alterations, of Edwardes' play.]
+
+[257] There is no list of characters prefixed to the old 4to.
+
+[258] i.e., Skelton, who is supposed by the author to have acted the
+part of Friar Tuck, and who, when first he comes on the stage, is
+without his gown and hood.
+
+[259] [Old copy, _Hurt_. The two are inside plotting together. See
+infrâ.]
+
+[260] [The Queen Mother.]
+
+[261] _Wight_ means _active_, or (sometimes) _clever_. It may be matter
+of conjecture whether "_white_ boy," "_white_ poet," "_white_ villain,"
+&c., so often found in old dramatists, have not this origin.
+
+[262] It is very obvious that Much begins his answer at "Cry ye mercy,
+Master King," but his name is omitted in the old 4to.
+
+[263] The old copy adds here _Exeunt_, and a new scene is marked; but
+this is a mistake, as Robin Hood just afterwards converses with the
+Prior, Sir Doncaster, and Warman, without any new entrance on their
+part. They retire to the back of the stage.
+
+[264] Warman is not mentioned, but we find him on the stage just
+afterwards, and he probably enters with Robin Hood. The entrance of
+Friar Tuck is also omitted.
+
+[265] i.e., Winding his horn.
+
+[266] The 4to, reads "Pity of _mind_, thine," &c.
+
+[267] See the last scene of the first part of this play.
+
+[268] The 4to merely reads _exit_.
+
+[269] "And yet more medicinal is it than that _Moly_
+      That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave."
+                                 --Milton's "Comus."
+
+There are several kinds of moly, and one of them distinguished among
+horticulturists as Homer's moly. Sir T. Brown thus quaintly renders two
+lines in the "Odyssey" relating to it--
+
+    "The gods it _Moly_ call whose root to dig away
+    Is dangerous unto man, but gods they all things may."
+
+[270] [Displeased.]
+
+[271] [Old copy, _whindling_. See Halliwell, _v. Whimlen_. There is also
+_windilling_; but the word is one of those terms of contempt used by
+early writers rather loosely.]
+
+[272] These two lines are taken, with a slight change, from the ballad
+of "The Jolly Finder of Wakefield." See Ritson's "Robin Hood," ii. 16--
+
+    "In Wakefleld there lives a jolly pinder,
+    In Wakefield all on a green," &c.
+
+[273] [Old copy, _monuments_.]
+
+[274] Ritson ("Notes and Illustrations to Robin Hood," i. 62) observes
+correctly that Fitzwater confounds one man with another, and that Harold
+Harefoot was the son and successor of Canute the Great.
+
+[275] [Old copy, _them_.]
+
+[276] "_In_ a trice" is the usual expression. See a variety of instances
+collected by Mr Todd in his Dictionary, but none of them have it "_with_
+a trice," as in this place. The old copy prints the ordinary
+abbreviation for _with_, which may have been misread by the printer.
+[_With_ is no doubt wrong, and has been altered.]
+
+[277] The scenes are marked, though incorrectly, in the old copy thus
+far; but the rest of the play is only divided by the _exits_ or
+entrances of the characters.
+
+[278] Jenny, a country wench, uses the old word _straw'd_; but when the
+author speaks afterwards in the stage direction, he describes Marian as
+"_strewing_ flowers." Shakespeare has _o'er-strawed_ in "Venus and
+Adonis," perhaps for the sake of the rhyme.
+
+[279] [i.e., Over.]
+
+[280] [Old copy, _of_.]
+
+[281] Formerly considered an antidote for poison. Sir Thomas Brown was
+not prepared to contradict it: he says, that "Lapis Lasuli hath in it a
+purgative faculty, we know: that _Bezoar is antidotal_, Lapis Judaicus
+diuretical, Coral antipileptical, we will not deny."--"Vulgar Errors,"
+edit. 1658, p. 104. He also (p. 205) calls it the _Bezoar nut_, "for,
+being broken, it discovereth a kernel of a leguminous smell and taste,
+bitter, like a lupine, and will swell and sprout if set in the ground."
+Harts-horn shavings were also considered a preservative against poison.
+
+[282] [From what follows presently it may be inferred that the king
+temporarily retires, although his exit or withdrawal is not marked.]
+
+[283] The old word for _convent_: Covent-Garden, therefore, is still
+properly called.
+
+[284] The _grate_ of a vintner was no doubt what is often termed in old
+writers the _red lattice, lettice_, or _chequers_, painted at the doors
+of vintners, and still preserved at almost every public-house. See note
+24 to "The Miseries of Enforced Marriage."
+
+[285] The 4to reads--
+
+                    "In the highway
+    That joineth to the _power_."
+
+[286] Robin Hood advises his uncle to insist upon his plea of
+_privilegium clericale_, or benefit of clergy--
+
+    "Stand to your clergy, uncle; save your life."
+
+"Originally the law was held that no man should be admitted to the
+privilege of clergy, but such as had the _habitum et tonsuram
+clericalem_. But in process of time a much wider and more comprehensive
+criterion was established; every one that could read (a mark of great
+learning in those days of ignorance and her sister superstition) being
+accounted a clerk or _clericus_, and allowed the benefit of clerkship,
+though neither initiated in holy orders, nor trimmed with the clerical
+tonsure."--Blackstone's "Com.," iv. b. iv, ch. 28. We have already seen
+that the king and nobles in this play called in the aid of Friar Tuck to
+read the inscription on the stag's collar, though the king could
+ascertain that it was in Saxon characters.
+
+[287] This account of the death of Robin Hood varies from all the
+popular narratives and ballads. The MS. Sloan, 715, nu. 7, f. 157,
+agrees with the ballad in Ritson, ii. 183, that he was treacherously
+bled to death by the Prioress of Kirksley.
+
+[288] The first act has already occupied too much space, but it was
+difficult to divide it: in fact, as Friar Tuck says, it is a "short
+play," complete in itself. What follows is an induction to the rest of
+the story, the Friar continuing on the stage after the others have gone
+out.
+
+[289] The 4to. reads thus--
+
+    "Apollo's _master doone_ I invocate,"
+
+but probably we ought to read--
+
+    "Apollo's _masterdom_ I invocate,"
+
+and the text has been altered accordingly. _Masterdom_ means _power,
+rule_; to invocate Apollo's masterdom is therefore to invocate Apollo's
+power to assist the Friar in his undertaking.
+
+[290] _Enter in black_ is the whole of the stage direction, and those
+who enter are afterwards designated by the letters _Cho_. Perhaps the
+principal performers arrive attired in black, and are mentioned as
+_Chorus_, one speaking for the rest. _Cho_. may, however, be a misprint
+for _Chester_, who was sent in to "attire him."
+
+[291] [In the new edit. of Nares the present passage is cited for
+_ill-part_, which is queried to mean _ill-conditioned_. Perhaps it is
+equivalent to _malapert_.]
+
+[292] [Old copy, _de Brun_.] "John married Isabel, the daughter and
+heiress of the Earl of Angoulesme, who was before affianced to _Hugh le
+Brun_, Earl of March (a peer of great estate and excellence in France),
+by the consent of King Richard, in whose custody she then was."
+--Daniel's "History of England."
+
+[293] [Old copy, _lose_.]
+
+[294] _Led by the F.K. and L_. means, as afterwards appears, the _French
+king_, and _Lord_ Hugh le Brun, Earl of North March.
+
+[295] The entrance of Bonville is omitted in the 4to.
+
+[296] These _Lords_, as we afterwards find, are old Aubrey de Vere,
+Hubert, and Mowbray.
+
+[297] [Old copy, _troops_.]
+
+[298] [Old copy, _triumphs_.]
+
+[299] Lodge was in the habit of using the adjective for the substantive,
+especially _fair_ for _fairness_; one example is enough--
+
+    "Some, well I wot, and of that sum full many,
+    Wisht or my _faire_ or their desire were lesse."
+                    --_Scilla's Metamorphosis_, 1589.
+
+See also note to "The Wounds of Civil War" (vol. vii. p. 118).
+
+Shakespeare may be cited in many places besides the following--
+
+                      "My decayed _fair_
+    A sunny look of his would soon repair."
+                          --_Comedy of Errors_, act ii. sc. 1.
+
+See Steevens's note on the above passage.
+
+[300] The King calls him in the old copy _good Oxford_, but Oxford is
+not present, and from what follows we see that the command was given to
+Salisbury. The same mistake is again made by Hubert in this scene.
+Salisbury must be pronounced _Sal'sb'ry_.
+
+[301] [Accepted.]
+
+[302] [Old copy, _muddy_.]
+
+[303] [A very unusual phrase, which seems to be used here in the sense
+of _masculine passions or properties_.]
+
+[304] In the old copy it stands thus--
+
+    "Yes, but I do: I think not Isabel, Lord,
+    The worse for any writing of Brunes."
+
+[In the MS. both Lord and Le were probably abbreviated into L., and
+hence the misprint, as well as misplacement, in the first line.]
+
+[305] [i.e., You may count on her wealth as yours. We now say to build
+_on_, but to build _of_ was formerly not unusual.]
+
+[306] See the notes of Dr Johnson, Steevens, and other commentators on
+the words in the "Comedy of Errors," act ii. sc. 1--"Poor I am but his
+_stale_." [See also Dyce's "Shakespeare Glossary," 1868, in v.]
+
+[307] The stage directions are often given very confusedly, and (taken
+by themselves) unintelligibly, in the old copy, of which this instance
+may serve as a specimen: it stands thus in the 4to--"_Enter Fitzwater
+and his son Bruce, and call forth his daughter_."
+
+[308] [A feeder of the Wye. Lewis's "Book of English Rivers," 1855,
+p. 212.]
+
+[309] Alluding most likely to the "Andria" of Terence, which had been
+translated [thrice] before this play was acted; the first time [in 1497,
+again about 1510, and the third time] by Maurice Kiffin in 1588. [The
+former two versions were anonymous. See Hazlitt's "Handbook," p. 605.]
+
+[310] _Holidom_ or _halidom_, according to Minsheu (Dict. 1617), is "an
+old word used by old country-women, by manner of swearing by my
+_halidome_; of the Saxon word _haligdome, ex halig, sanctum_, and _dome,
+dominium aut judicium_." Shakespeare puts it into the mouth of the host
+in the "Two Gentlemen of Verona," act iv. sc. 2.
+
+[311] The entrance of Richmond clearly takes place here, but in the 4to
+he is said to come in with Leicester.
+
+[312] [See Hazlitt's "Proverbs," p. 22.]
+
+[313] [In the 4to and former editions this and the following nine words
+are given to Richmond.]
+
+[314] Meaning that her father Fitzwater [takes her, she having declined
+to pair off with the king.] The whole account of the mask is confused in
+the old copy, and it is not easy to make it much more intelligible in
+the reprint.
+
+[315] [The proverb is: "There are more maids than Malkin." See Hazlitt's
+"Proverbs," p. 392.]
+
+[316] [Old copy, _Had_.]
+
+[317] This line will remind the reader of Shakespeare's "multitudinous
+seas incarnardine," in "Macbeth," act ii. sc. 1.
+
+[318] This answer unquestionably belongs to the king, and is not, as the
+4to gives it, a part of what Leicester says. It opens with an allusion
+to the crest of Leicester, similar to that noticed in the "Downfall of
+Robert Earl of Huntington."
+
+[319] [Old copy, _by God's_.]
+
+[320] [Old copy, _armed men_.]
+
+[321] [Old copy, _shall_.]
+
+[322] [An allusion to the proverb.]
+
+[323] This and other passages refer probably to the old play of "King
+John," printed in 1591, [or to Shakespeare's own play which, though not
+printed till 1623, must have been familiar to the public, and more
+especially to dramatic authors.]
+
+[324] In this line; in the old copy, _Salisbury_ is made to call himself
+_Oxford_.
+
+[325] The 4to reads _Enter or above Hugh, Winchester. Enter or above_
+means, that they may either enter on the stage, or stand above on the
+battlements, as may suit the theatre. With regard to the names _Hugh_
+and _Winchester_, they are both wrong; they ought to be _Hubert_ and
+_Chester_, who have been left by the king to _keep good watch_. When,
+too, afterwards Chester asks--
+
+    "What, Richmond, will you prove a runaway?"--
+
+the answer in the old copy is--
+
+    "From thee, good _Winchester_? now, the Lord defend!"
+
+It ought to be--
+
+    "From thee, good _Chester_? now the Lord defend!"
+
+And it is clear that the measure requires it. The names throughout are
+very incorrectly given, and probably the printer composed from a copy in
+which some alterations had been made in the _dramatis personae_, but
+incompletely. Hence the perpetual confusion of _Salisbury_ and _Oxford_.
+
+[326] The scene changes from the outside to the inside of the castle.
+
+[327] [Without muscle, though muscle and bristle are strictly distinct.]
+
+[328] To _tire_ is a term in falconry: from the Fr. _tirer_, in
+reference to birds of prey tearing what they take to pieces.
+
+[329] The 4to prints _Ilinnus_.
+
+[330] [Old copy, _a deed_.]
+
+[331] The 4to has it _Elinor_, but it ought to be _Isabel_. The previous
+entrance of the Queen and Matilda is not marked.
+
+[332] [_Fairness_, in which sense the word has already occurred in this
+piece.]
+
+[333] [i.e., Champion.]
+
+[334] Matilda's name is omitted in the old copy, but the errors of this
+kind are too numerous to be always pointed out.
+
+[335] [Old copy, _Triumvirates_.]
+
+[336] Nothing can more clearly show the desperate confusion of names in
+this play than this line, which in the 4to stands--
+
+    "It's Lord _Hugh Burgh_ alone: _Hughberr_, what newes?"
+
+In many places Hubert is only called _Hugh_.
+
+[337] Company or collection.
+
+[338] _Head of hungry wolves_ is the reading of the original copy: a
+"_herd_" of hungry wolves would scarcely be proper, but it may have been
+so written. [_Head_ may be right, and we have not altered it, as the
+word is occasionally used to signify a gathering or force.]
+
+[339] In the old copy the four following lines are given to King John.
+
+[340] [Old copy, _warres_.]
+
+[341] [Escutcheon.]
+
+[342] [Abided.]
+
+[343] [Old copy, _prepare_.]
+
+[344] This word is found in "Henry VI., Part II." act v. sc. 1, where
+young Clifford applies it to Richard. Malone observes in a note, that,
+according to Bullokar's "English Expositor," 1616, _stugmatick_
+originally and properly signified "a person who has been _branded_ with
+a hot iron for some crime." The name of the man to whom Hubert here
+applies the word, is _Brand_.
+
+Webster, in his "Vittoria Corombona," applies the term
+metaphorically:--
+
+    "The god of melancholy turn thy gall to poison,
+    And let the _stigmatic_ wrinkles in thy face.
+    Like to the boisterous wares in a rough tide,
+    One still overtake another."
+
+[345] [Are faulty.]
+
+[346] [Old copy, _seld_.]
+
+[347] [The printer has made havoc with the sense here, which can only be
+guessed at from the context. Perhaps for _go_ we should read _God_, in
+allusion to the woman's protestations. Yet even then the passage reads
+but lamely.]
+
+[348] [_These_ may be right; but perhaps the author wrote _his_. By
+his--i.e., God's--nails, is a very common oath.]
+
+[349] [i.e., Mete or measure out a reward to her.]
+
+[350] [To swear by the fingers, or the _ten commandments_, as they were
+often called, was a frequent oath.]
+
+[351] [Old copy, _lamback'd_.]
+
+[352] The 4to says, _between the monk and the nun_.
+
+[353] [Query, _mother Bawd_; or is some celebrated procuress of the time
+when this play was written and acted meant here?]
+
+[354] To swear by the cross of the sword was a very common practice, and
+many instances are to be found in D.O.P. See also notes to "Hamlet," act
+i. sc. 5.
+
+[355] i.e., Secretly, a very common application of the word in our old
+writers.
+
+[356] [In allusion to the proverb, "Maids say nay, and take."]
+
+[357] Here, according to what follows, Brand steps forward and addresses
+Matilda. Hitherto he has spoken _aside_.
+
+[358] See Mr Gilford's note on the words _rouse_ and _carouse_ in his
+Massinger, i. 239. It would perhaps be difficult, and certainly
+needless, to add anything to it.
+
+[359] "Nor I to stir before I see the end,"
+
+belongs to the queen, unquestionably, but the 4to gives it to the
+Abbess, who has already gone out.
+
+[360] [Labour, pain.]
+
+[361] The reading of the old copy is--
+
+    "Oh _pity, mourning_ sight! age pitiless!"
+
+_Pity-moving_ in a common epithet, and we find it afterwards in this
+play used by young Bruce--
+
+    "My tears, my prayers, my _pity-moving_ moans."
+
+[362] [Old copy, _wrath_.]
+
+[363] This servant entered probably just before Oxford's question, but
+his entrance is not marked.
+
+[364] To _pash_, signifies to crush or dash to pieces. So in the "Virgin
+Martyr," act ii. sc. 2--
+
+    "With Jove's artillery, shot down at once,
+    To _pash_ your gods in pieces."
+
+See Mr Gifford's note upon this passage, and Reed's note on the same
+word in "Troilus and Cressida," act ii. sc. 3.
+
+[365] The 4^o has it--
+
+    "_May_ an example of it, honest friends;"
+
+but _make_ is certainly the true reading.
+
+[366] _Bannings_ are _cursings_. Hundreds of examples might be added to
+those collected by Steevens in a note to "King Lear," act ii. sc. 3. It
+is a singular coincidence that _ban_, signifying a _curse_, and _ban_, a
+public notice of _marriage_, should have the same origin.
+
+[367] The words, _at one door_, are necessary to make the stage
+direction intelligible, but they are not found in the original.
+
+[368] [Here used apparently in the unusual sense of _scene_.]
+
+[369] This line is quoted by Steevens in a note to "Measure for
+Measure," act v. sc. 1, to prove that the meaning of _refel_ is
+_refute_.
+
+[370] Sir William Blunt's entrance is not marked in the old copy.
+
+[371] To _blin_ is to _cease_, and in this sense it is met with in
+Spenser and other poets. Mr Todd informs us that it is still in use in
+the north of England. Ben Jonson, in his "Sad Shepherd," converts the
+verb into a substantive, "withouten _blin_."
+
+[372] _Powder'd_ is the old word for salted: it is in this sense
+Shakespeare makes Falstaff use it, when he says: "If you embowel me
+to-day, I'll give you leave to _powder_ me and eat me to-morrow."
+
+[373] i.e., _l'ouvert_ or opening--
+
+    "Ne lightned was with window nor with _lover_,
+    But with continuall candle-light."
+
+--Spenser's "Faerie Queene," b. vi. c. x.
+
+[374] The sense is incomplete here: perhaps a line has been lost, or
+Leicester suddenly recollects that Bruce has possession of Windsor
+Castle, and warns him not to relinquish it.
+
+[375] An abridgment of _Hubert_, apparently for the sake of the metre.
+
+[376] [i.e., Spleen, indignation.]
+
+[377] In this line there is, in the old copy, a curious and obvious
+misprint: it stands in the 4^o--
+
+    "She was indeed of _London_ the honour once."
+
+Instead of--
+
+    "She was indeed of _love_ the honour once."
+
+The king is translating and commenting on the motto on the pendant, as
+is quite evident from the manner in which he proceeds. Besides, the
+measure requires a word of one syllable.
+
+[378] [Old copy, _in life_.]
+
+[379] The lords again _stand in council_ as before, while the king fills
+up the interval to the audience.
+
+[380] This is probably addressed to the king, with whom Oxford has been
+talking.
+
+[381] [Pox].
+
+[382] [Old copy, _had_.]
+
+[383] [Old copy, _hath_.]
+
+[384] [The inn, mentioned in the former scene, must be supposed to
+remain, as Tenacity presently goes up to it, and knocks at the gate.]
+
+[385] [Fired?]
+
+[386] [Old copy, _than_.]
+
+[387] [Wretches.]
+
+[388] [Old copy, _Yoo_.]
+
+[389] [Old copy. _That_.]
+
+[390] [Dance.]
+
+[391] [Then.]
+
+[392] [Paltrily.]
+
+[393] A term of contempt for a woman. The hostess has entered the
+kitchen of the inn in the cook's absence, and finds matters not quite
+satisfactory.
+
+[394] Old copy adds, _and Dandelyne_; but it is evident from the close
+of the preceding scene, that the Hostess does not quit the stage.
+
+[395] See Halliwell in v.; but the explanation there given hardly
+suits the present context, where the word appears to be used in the
+sense of _a term, a period_.
+
+[396] Apparently part of the song; its meaning is not clear.
+
+[397] [Reward].
+
+[398] [Pet.]
+
+[399] [Welcome.]
+
+[400] [This is one of the elegant terms which are exchanged between
+Gammer Gurton and Mother Chat.]
+
+[401] [Although Tom is marked in the old copy as entering at the
+commencement of the scene, be does not really come in till now.]
+
+[402] [Old copy adds, _and Fortune_; but Fortune does not enter now: she
+is in her castle, and presently calls to Vanity from a window.]
+
+[403] [Although it appears from what immediately follows that Vanity had
+assembled Fortune's vassals, we are not necessarily to conclude that the
+latter enter here. They would rather wait outside.]
+
+[404] [Bull-calf.]
+
+[405] [Orig. reads, _fat fatox_.]
+
+[406] [This seems merely a word coined for the sake of the rhyme.]
+
+[407] [Of courtesy.]
+
+[408] [Swoon.]
+
+[409] [Old copy, _net_.]
+
+[410] [Old copy, _to emloy_.]
+
+[411] [In the old copy this direction is given (very imperfectly) thus:
+_The constables make hue and cry_.]
+
+[412] [In the old copy this passage is thus exhibited--
+
+    HOST. Where dwell these constables?
+
+    CON. Why? what's the matter, friend, I pray?
+
+    HOST. Why, thieves, man, I tell thee, come away.
+    Thieves, i' faith, wife, my scull, my Iacke, my browne bill.
+
+    CON. Come away quickly.
+
+    HOST. Dick, Tom, Will, ye hoorsons, make ye all ready and haste.
+    But let me heare, how stands the case?    [_A pace after_.
+
+Where the confusion in the distribution of the speeches seems tolerably
+evident. The constable made hue and cry, in order to raise the country,
+and make a levy of such persons as were bound to assist.
+
+[413] [Old copy, _to_.]
+
+[414] [Old copy, _fasting_.]
+
+[415] [Old copy, _Yes_.]
+
+[416] [Petition.]
+
+[417] [Then, probably, as it certainly was later on, a favourite haunt
+of footpads.]
+
+[418] [Pancras.]
+
+[419] [No edition except that of 1662 has yet come to light.]
+
+[420] Nobody who reads this play can doubt that it is much older than
+1662, the date borne by the earliest known edition of it. It has every
+indication of antiquity, and the title not the least of these. "Grim,
+the Collier of Croydon," is a person who plays a prominent character in
+the humorous portion of Edwards's "Damon and Pithias," which was printed
+in 1571, and acted several years earlier. The Grim of the present play
+is obviously the same person as the Grim of "Damon and Pithias," and in
+both he is said to be "Collier for the king's own Majesty's mouth."
+Chetwood may therefore be right when he states that it was printed in
+1599; but perhaps that was not the first edition, and the play was
+probably acted before "Damon and Pithias" had gone quite out of memory.
+In the office-book of the Master of the Revels, under date of 1576, we
+find a dramatic entertainment entered, called "The Historie of the
+Colyer," acted by the Earl of Leicester's men; but it was doubtless
+Ulpian Fulwell's "Like will to Like, quod the Devil to the Colier,"
+printed in 1568. The structure, phraseology, versification, and language
+of "Grim, the Collier of Croydon," are sufficient to show that it was
+written before 1600: another instance to prove how much the arrangement
+of the plays made by Mr Reed was calculated to mislead. Some slight
+separate proofs of the age of this piece are pointed out in the new
+notes; but the general evidence is much more convincing. The
+versification is interlarded with rhymes like nearly all our earlier
+plays, and the blank verse is such as was written before Marlowe's
+improvements had generally been adopted. When the play was reprinted in
+1662, some parts of it were perhaps a little modernised. The
+introduction of Malbecco and Paridell into it, from Spenser's "Faerie
+Queene," may be some guide as to the period when the comedy was first
+produced.--_Collier_. [The play has now, for the first time, been placed
+in its true chronological rank.]
+
+[421] See note to "Gammer Gurton's Needle" [iii. 245].
+
+[422] The story of this play is taken in part from Machiavel's
+"Belphegor."--_Pegge_.
+
+The excellent translation of this humorous old story by Mr T. Roscoe
+("Italian Novelists," ii. 272) will enable the reader to compare the
+play with it. He will find that in many parts the original has been
+abandoned, and the catastrophe, if not entirely different, is brought
+about by different means. The "Biographia Dramatica" informs us that
+Dekker's "If it be not Good the Devil is in it" is also chiefly taken
+from the same novel; but this is an error arising out of a hint by
+Langbaine. Dekker's play is the famous history of Friar Rush in many of
+its incidents.--_Collier_.
+
+[423] [He was _born_ at or near Glastonbury in 925. See Wright's "Biog.
+Brit. Lit.," Anglo-Saxon period, p. 443, et seq.]
+
+[424] "Legenda Aurea, or the Golden Legend," translated out of the
+French, and printed by Caxton in folio, 1483.
+
+[425] In the old copy it is printed _Tortass_, but it means _portass,
+portesse_, or _portace_, the breviary of the Roman Catholic Church.
+Thus, in Greene's "Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay"--
+
+    "I'll take my _portace_ forth, and wed you here."
+
+Spenser uses the word, "Faerie Queene," b. i. c. iv.--
+
+    "And in his hand his _portesse_ still he bare
+    That much was worne," &c.
+
+See also note to "New Custom" [iii. 24].--_Collier_.
+
+[426] [Old copy and former edits., _Dunston's_.]
+
+[427] See the story of Malbecco in Spenser's "Faerie Queene," b. iii. c.
+ix., &c.
+
+[428] The old copy has it _reap_, but probably we ought to read _heap_;
+to _reap an endless catalogue_ is hardly sense.--_Collier_.
+
+[429] _Cleped_ is _called, named_. So in Milton's "L'Allegro," i. 11--
+
+    "But come, thou goddess fair and free,
+    In heaven _yclep'd_ Euphrosyne."
+
+[430] _Colling_ is embracing round the neck. _Dare Brachia cervici_, as
+Baret explains it in his "Alvearie," voce _colle_. The word is
+frequently to be found in ancient writers. So in Erasmus' "Praise of
+Follie," 1549, sig. B 2: "For els, what is it in younge babes that we
+dooe kysse go, we doe _colle_ so; we do cheryshe so, that a very enemie
+is moved to spare and succour this age." In "Wily Beguiled," 1606: "I'll
+clasp thee, and clip thee; _coll thee_, and kiss thee, till I be better
+than nought, and worse than nothing." In "The Witch," by Middleton--
+
+    "When hundred leagues in aire we feast and sing,
+    Daunce, kysse, and _coll_, use everything."
+
+And in Breton's "Woorkes of a Young Wit," 1577, p. 37--
+
+    "Then for God's sake, let young folkes _coll_ and kisse,
+    When oldest folkes will thinke it not amisse."
+
+[431] Old copy, _upon_.
+
+[432] So in Ben Jonson's "Catiline," act iv. sc. 3--
+
+    "I have those eyes and ears shall still keep guard
+    And _spial_ on thee, as they've ever done,
+    And thou not feel it."
+
+And in Ascham's "Report and Discourse of the State of Germany," p. 31:
+"He went into France secretly, and was there with Shirtly as a common
+launce knight, and named hymselfe Captaine Paul, lest the Emperours
+_spials_ should get out hys doynges."
+
+[433] In the county of Essex, the mother-church of Harwich. "In the same
+yeare of our Lord 1582 there was an Idoll named _The Roode of
+Dovercourt_, whereunto was much and great resort of people. For at that
+time there was a great rumour blown abroad amongst the ignorant sort,
+that the power of _The Idoll of Dovercourt_ was so great that no man had
+power to shut the church doore where he stood, and therefore they let
+the church dore, both night and day, continually stand open, for the
+more credit unto the blinde rumour."--Fox's "Martyrs," ii. 302. This is
+the account given by Fox of this celebrated image; who adds that four
+men, determining to destroy it, travelled ten miles from Dedham, where
+they resided, took away the Rood and burnt it, for which act three of
+them afterwards suffered death.
+
+[434] Old copy, _way_.--_Pegge_.
+
+[435] A play on the double meaning of the word, an old game and the act
+of kissing.
+
+[436] [Obtain.]
+
+[437] [Old copy, and former edits., _bear_.]
+
+[438] See note to "Gammer Gurton's Needle" [ii. 202].
+
+[439] In 1662, when this play was either first printed or reprinted, it
+would have been absurd to talk of _America_ as _new_ or newly
+discovered.--_Collier_.
+
+[440] [This passage reminds us of No. 60 in "A C. Mery Talys," Hazlitt's
+"Jest Books," i. 87.]
+
+[441] See note to "Damon and Pithias" [iv. 21].
+
+[442] Old copy, _work_.--_Pegge_.
+
+[443] i.e., O Lord.
+
+[444] i.e., So happen in the issue. So in Ben Jonson's "New Inn," act
+iv. sc. 4--
+
+    "You knew well
+    It could not _sort_ with any reputation
+    Of mine."
+
+And in Massinger's "Maid of Honour," act ii. sc. 1--
+
+    "All _sorts_ to my wishes."
+
+[445] Old copy, _for_.--_Pegge_.
+
+[446] i.e., _As lief they as I_. So in "Eastward Hoe:" "I'd as _live_ as
+anything I could see his farewell."--_Collier_.
+
+[447] It is observed by Dr Warburton (note on "Romeo and Juliet," act i.
+sc. 1), that to _carry coals_ was a phrase formerly in use to signify
+_bearing of injuries_; and Dr Percy has given several instances in proof
+of it. To those may be added the following from Ben Jonson's "Every Man
+out of his Humour," act v. sc. 3: "Take heed, Sir Puntarvolo, what you
+do; _he'll bear no coals_, I can tell you, o' my word."
+
+[448] i.e., Akercock, as he is called in the preceding scenes. See a
+later note to this play [p. 442 _infrâ_].--_Collier_.
+
+[449] _Suppose_ is here used in the sense of _conjecture_ or
+_apprehension_. Gascoigne translated a comedy of Ariosto, and called it
+"The Supposes." The employment of the verb for the substantive in the
+present instance is an evidence of the antiquity of this play. The
+following parallel is from Gascoigne's Prologue: "The verye name wherof
+may peraduenture driue into euerie of your heades, a sundrie _Suppose_,
+to _suppose_ the meaning of our _supposes_."--_Collier_.
+
+[450] i.e., Plot or contrivance. Tarlton produced a piece called "The
+Plat-form of the Seven Deadly Sins;" and in "Sir J. Oldcastle," by
+Drayton and others, first printed in 1600, it is used with the same
+meaning as in the text, viz., a contrivance for giving effect to the
+conspiracy.
+
+    "There is the _plat-form_, and their hands, my lord,
+    Each severally subscribed to the same."
+
+--_Collier_.
+
+[451] [A common proverb.]
+
+[452] [The ordinary proverb is, "The devil is _good_ when he is
+pleased."]
+
+[453] The Italian for _How do you do_?
+
+[454] _Skinker_ was a _tapster_ or _drawer_. Prince Henry, in "The First
+Part of Henry IV." act ii. sc. 4, speaks of an _underskinker_, meaning
+an _underdrawer_. Mr Steevens says it is derived from the Dutch word
+_schenken_, which signifies to fill a cup or glass. So in G. Fletcher's
+"Russe Commonwealth," 1591, p. 13, speaking of a town built on the south
+side of Moscow by Basilius the emperor, for a garrison of soldiers, "to
+whom he gave priviledge to drinke mead and beer, at the drye or
+prohibited times, when other Russes may drinke nothing but water, and
+for that cause called this newe citie by the name of Naloi, that is,
+_skinck_, or _poure in_." Again, in Marston's "Sophonisba," iii. 2--
+
+    "Ore whelme me not with sweets, let me not drink,
+    Till my breast burst, O Jove, thy nectar _skinke_."
+
+And in Ben Jonson's "Poetaster," act iv. sc. 5--
+
+    "ALB. I'll ply the table with nectar, and make 'em friends.
+
+    "HER. Heaven is like to have but a lame _skinker_."
+
+And in his "Bartholomew Fair," act ii. sc. 2: "Froth your cans well i'
+the filling, at length, rogue, and jog your bottles o' the buttock,
+sirrah; then _skink_ out the first glass ever, and drink with all
+companies."
+
+[455] Suspicion.
+
+[456] [Be in accord with reason.]
+
+[457] [Old copy, _call'st_.]
+
+[458] Similar to this description is one in Marlowe's "Edward II.," act
+i.
+
+[459] Old copy, _are_.
+
+[460] [Old copy, _knew_.]
+
+[461] See note to "Cornelia" [v. 188].
+
+[462] In Shakespeare's "Coriolanus," Sicinius asks Volumnia, "Are you
+mankind?" On which Dr Johnson remarks that "_a mankind woman_ is a woman
+with the roughness of a man; and, in an aggravated sense, a woman
+_ferocious, violent, and eager to shed blood_." Mr Upton says _mankind_
+means _wicked_. See his "Remarks on Ben Jonson," p. 92. The word is
+frequently used to signify _masculine_. So in [Beaumont and Fletcher's]
+"Love's Cure; or, The Martial Maid," act iv. sc. 2--
+
+    "From me all _mankind_ women learn to woo."
+
+In Dekker's "Satiromastix"--
+
+    "My wife's a woman; yet
+    'Tis more than I know yet, that know not her;
+    If she should prove _mankind_, 'twere rare; fie! fie!"
+
+And in Massinger's "City Madam," act ii. sc. 1--
+
+    "You brach,
+    Are you turn'd _mankind_?"
+
+[463] [Old copy, _strumpets_.]
+
+[464] Whether I will or not. This mode of expression is often found in
+contemporary writers. So in Dekker's "Bel-man of London," sig. F 3:
+"Can by no meanes bee brought to remember this new friend, yet _will
+hee, nill he_, to the taverne he sweares to have him."
+
+It may be worth remark that it is also found in "Damon and Pithias,"
+from which the character of Grim is taken.
+
+[465] [Old copy, _reake_.]
+
+[466] Sometimes called _Pucke_, alias _Hobgoblin_. In the creed of
+ancient superstition he was a kind of merry sprite, whose character and
+achievements are recorded in a ballad printed in Dr Percy's "Reliques of
+Ancient Poetry." [See "Popular Antiquities of Great Britain," iii. 39,
+et seq.]
+
+[467] Pretty or clever. So in Warner's "Albion's England," b. vi. c. 31,
+edit. 1601--
+
+    "There was a _tricksie_ girl, I wot, albeit clad in gray."
+
+The word is also used in Shakespeare's "Tempest," act v. sc. 1. See Mr
+Steevens's note thereon.
+
+[468] This is one of the most common, and one of the oldest, proverbs in
+English. Ulpian Fulwell['s play upon it has been printed in our third
+volume.] It is often met with in our old writers, and among others, in a
+translation from the French, printed in 1595, called, "A pleasant Satyre
+or Poesie, wherein is discovered the Catholicon of Spain," &c., the
+running title being "A Satyre Menippized." It is to be found on pp. 54
+and 185. Having mentioned this tract, we may quote, as a curiosity, the
+following lines, which probably are the original of a passage for which
+"Hudibras" is usually cited as the authority--
+
+    "Oft he that doth abide
+    Is cause of his own paine;
+    But he that flieth in good tide
+    Perhaps may fight againe."
+
+--_Collier_.
+
+[469] [A word unnoticed by Nares and Halliwell. The latter cites
+_haust_, high, doubtless from the French _haut_. So _hauster_ may be the
+comparative, and signify higher.]
+
+[470] Till now printed _Puzzles_ as if because it had puzzled Dodsley
+and Reed to make out the true word. In the old copy it stands _Puriles_;
+and although it may seem a little out of character for Grim to quote
+Latin, yet he does so in common with the farmer in Peele's "Edward I.,"
+and from the very same great authority. "'Tis an old saying, I remember
+I read it in Cato's '_Pueriles_' that _Cantabit vacuus coram latrone
+viator_," &c.--_Collier_. [The work referred to in the text was called
+"Pueriles Confabulatiunculae; or, Children's Talke," of which no early
+edition is at present known. But it is mentioned in "Pappe with an
+Hatchet" (1589), and in the inventory of the stock of John Foster, the
+York bookseller (1616).]
+
+[471] Head. See note to "Gammer Gurton's Needle" [iii. 242].
+
+[472] Shall never cease, stop, or leave of. So in Ben Jonson's "Staple
+of News," Intermean after 4th act--
+
+    "He'll never _lin_ till he be a gallop."
+
+Mr Whalley proposes to read _blin_. "The word," says he, "is Saxon, and
+the substantive _blin_, derived from _blinnan_, occurs in the 'Sad
+Shepherd.' Yet the word occurs in Drayton in the sense of stopping or
+staying, as it is used here by our poet--
+
+    "'Quoth Puck, my liege, I'll never _lin_,
+    Hut I will thorough thick and thin.'
+
+"--'Court of Fairy.' So that an emendation may be unnecessary, and _lin_,
+the same as _leave_, might have been in common use."
+
+The latter conjecture is certainly right, many instances maybe produced.
+As in "The Return from Parnassus," act iv. sc. 3--
+
+    "Fond world, that ne'er think'st on that aged man,
+    That Ariosto's old swift-paced man,
+    Whose name is Time, who never _lins_ to run,
+    Loaden with bundles of decayed names."
+
+In "A Chast Mayd in Cheapside," by Middleton: "You'll never _lin_ 'till
+I make your tutor whip you; you know how I serv'd you once at the free
+schoole in Paul's Church Yard." And in, "More Dissemblers besides
+Women," by the same, act iii. sc. I: "You nev'r _lin_ railing on me,
+from one week's end to another." [_Lin_ is common enough in the old
+romances.]
+
+[473] See [Dyce's "Middleton," iii. 97, and] Note 20 to the "Match at
+Midnight."--_Collier_.
+
+[474] This must have been addressed to the audience, and may be adduced
+as some slight evidence of the antiquity of the play, as in later times
+dramatists were not guilty of this impropriety. The old morality of "The
+Disobedient Child" has several instances of the kind; thus, the son says
+to the spectators--
+
+    "See ye not, my maysters, my fathers advyse?
+    Have you the lyke at any time harde?"
+
+Again, the Man-cook--
+
+    "Maysters, this woman did take such assaye,
+    And then in those dayes so applyed her booke."
+
+--_Collier_ [ii. 276, 284].
+
+[475] See Note 25 to "Ram Alley."--_Collier_. [In "Romeo and Juliet,"
+i. 3, the Nurse says, "Nay, I do bear a brain," i.e., I do bear in mind,
+or recollect (Dyce's edit. 1868, vi. 398). Reed's explanation, adopted
+by Dyce, seems hardly satisfactory.]
+
+[476] See note to "Gammer Gorton's Needle," iii. 205. Query, if the
+passages there quoted may not refer to this very character of Akercock
+and his dress, as described in act i. sc. 1.--_Collier_. [Probably not,
+as this play can hardly have been in existence go early, and the
+character and costume of Robin Goodfellow were well understood, even
+before "Gammer Gurton's Needle" was written.]
+
+[477] So in "The Return from Parnassus," act v. sc. 4--
+
+    "I'll make thee run this lousy case, _I wis_."
+
+And again in Massinger's "City Madam," act iv. sc. 4--
+
+              "Tis more comely,
+    _I wis_, than their other whim-whams."
+
+[478] "He had need of a long spoon that eats with the devil," is a
+proverbial phrase. See [Hazlitt's "Proverbs," 1869, p. 176.] So
+Stephano, in the "Tempest," act ii. sc. 2, alluding to this proverb,
+says, "This is a devil, and no monster: I will leave him; I have no
+_long spoon_." See also "Comedy of Errors," act iv. sc. 3, and Chaucer's
+"Squier's Tale," v. 10916--
+
+    "Therefore behoveth him a _ful long spone_,
+    That shall ete with a fiend."
+
+[479] [To vomit. One of the jests of Scogin relates how that celebrated
+individual "told his wife he had _parbraked_ a crow"--a story which
+occurs in the "Knight of the Tour-Landry" (Wright's edit., p. 96). See
+also Fry's "Bibl. Memoranda," 1816, p. 337. A note in edition 1825
+says:] This is a word which I apprehend is very seldom found in writers
+subsequent to the year 1600. It is used by Skelton, and sometimes by
+Spenser. See Todd's "Johnson's Dict."
+
+[480] [Old copy, _He falls_; but Akercock evidently disappears
+simultaneously.]
+
+[481] [Old copy, _names_.]
+
+[482] [Old copy, _song_.]
+
+
+
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Select Collection of Old English Plays,
+Vol. VIII (4th edition), by Various, Edited by Robert Dodsley
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. VIII (4th edition)
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: December 15, 2003  [eBook #10467]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: US-ASCII
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SELECT COLLECTION OF OLD ENGLISH
+PLAYS, VOL. VIII (4TH EDITION)***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, Tapio Riikonen, and Project Gutenberg
+Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+A SELECT COLLECTION OF OLD ENGLISH PLAYS, VOL. VIII
+
+Fourth Edition
+
+Originally published by Robert Dodsley in the Year 1744.
+
+Now first chronologically arranged, revised and enlarged with the Notes
+of all the Commentators, and new Notes
+
+By
+
+W. CAREW HAZLITT
+
+1874-1876.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS:
+
+Summer's Last Will and Testament
+The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington
+The Death of Robert Earl of Huntington
+Contention between Liberality and Prodigality
+Grim the Collier of Croydon.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+SUMMER'S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT.
+
+
+
+
+EDITION.
+
+
+_A pleasant Comedie, called Summer's last will and Testament. Written
+by Thomas Nash. Imprinted at London by Simon Stafford, for Water Burre_.
+1600. 4to.
+
+
+
+
+[COLLIER'S PREFACE.]
+
+
+[Thomas Nash, son of William Nash, minister, and Margaret his wife, was
+baptized at Lowestoft, in Suffolk, in November 1567.[1] He was admitted
+a scholar at St John's College, Cambridge, on the Lady Margaret's
+foundation, in 1584, and proceeded B.A. in 1585:] the following is a
+copy of the Register:--
+
+"Tho. Nashe Coll. Joh. Cantab. A.B. ib. 1585." The place, though not
+the time, of his birth[2] we have under his own authority, for in his
+"Lenten Stuff," printed in 1599, he informs us that he was born at
+Lowestoft; and he leads us to conclude that his family was of some note,
+by adding that his "father sprang from the Nashes of Herefordshire."[3]
+
+It does not appear that Nash ever proceeded Master of Arts at Cambridge,
+and most of his biographers agree that he left his college about 1587.
+It is evident, however, that he had got into disgrace, and probably was
+expelled; for the author of "England to her three Daughters" in
+"Polimanteia," 1595, speaking of Harvey and Nash, and the pending
+quarrel between them, uses these terms: "Cambridge make thy two children
+friends: _thou hast been unkind to the one to wean him before his time_,
+and too fond upon the other to keep him so long without preferment: the
+one is ancient and of much reading; the other is young, but full of
+wit."[4] The cause of his disgrace is reported to have been the share he
+took in a piece called "Terminus et non Terminus," not now extant; and
+it is not denied that his partner in this offence was expelled. Most
+likely, therefore, Nash suffered the same punishment.
+
+If Nash be the author of "An Almond for a Parrot," of which there is
+little doubt, although his name is not affixed to it, he travelled in
+Italy;[5] and we find from another of his pieces that he had been in
+Ireland. Perhaps he went abroad soon after he abandoned Cambridge, and
+before he settled in London and became an author. His first appearance
+in this character seems to have been in 1589, and we believe the
+earliest date of any tract attributed to him relating to Martin
+Marprelate is also 1589.[6] He was the first, as has been frequently
+remarked, to attack this enemy of the Church with the keen missiles of
+wit and satire, throwing aside the lumbering and unserviceable weapons
+of scholastic controversy. Having set the example in this respect, he
+had many followers and imitators, and among them John Lily, the dramatic
+poet, the author of "Pap with a Hatchet."
+
+In London Nash became acquainted with Robert Greene, and their
+friendship drew him into a long literary contest with Gabriel Harvey, to
+which Nash owes much of his reputation. It arose out of the posthumous
+attack of Harvey upon Robert Greene, of which sufficient mention has
+been made elsewhere. Nash replied on behalf of his dead companion, and
+reiterated the charge which had given the original offence to Harvey,
+viz., that his brother was the son of a ropemaker.[7] One piece was
+humorously dedicated to Richard Litchfield, a barber of Cambridge, and
+Harvey answered it under the assumed character of the same barber, in a
+tract called "The Trimmino of Thomas Nash,"[8] which also contained a
+woodcut of a man in fetters. This representation referred to the
+imprisonment of Nash for an offence he gave by writing a play (not now
+extant) called "The Isle of Dogs," and to this event Francis Meres
+alludes in his "Palladia Tamia," 1598, in these terms: "As Actaeon was
+worried of his own hounds, so is Tom Nash of his 'Isle of Dogs.' Dogs
+were the death of Euripides; but be not disconsolate, gallant young
+Juvenal; Linus, the son of Apollo, died the same death. Yet God forbid,
+that so brave a wit should so basely perish!--Thine are but paper dogs;
+neither is thy banishment like Ovid's eternally to converse with the
+barbarous _Getes_. Therefore comfort thyself, sweet Tom, with Cicero's
+glorious return to Rome, and with the council Aeneas gives to his
+sea-beaten soldiers." Lib. I. Aeneid.
+
+    "Pluck up thine heart, and drive from thence both fear and care away:
+    To think on this may pleasure be, perhaps, another day."
+
+    --_Durato, et temet rebus servato secundis_. (fol. 286.)
+
+This was in part verified in the next year, for when Nash published his
+"Lenten Stuff," he referred with apparent satisfaction to his past
+troubles in consequence of his "Isle of Dogs."[9]
+
+So much has been said, especially by Mr D'Israeli in his "Quarrels of
+Authors," on the subject of this dispute between Nash and Harvey, that
+it is unnecessary to add anything, excepting that it was carried to such
+a length, and the pamphlets contained so much scurrility, that it was
+ordered from authority in 1599 that all the tracts on both sides should
+be seized and suppressed.[10]
+
+As with Greene, so with Nash, an opinion on his moral conduct and
+general deportment has been too readily formed from the assertions of
+his opponents; and because Gabriel Harvey, to answer a particular
+purpose, states, "You may be in one prison to-day and in another
+to-morrow," it has been taken for granted, that "after his arrival in
+London, he was often confined in different jails." No doubt, he and his
+companions Greene, Marlowe, and Peele, led very disorderly lives, and it
+is singular that all four died prematurely, the oldest of them probably
+not being forty years of age. It is certain that Nash was not living at
+the time when the "Return from Parnassus" was produced, which, though
+not printed until 1606, was written before the end of the reign of
+Elizabeth: his ashes are there spoken of as at rest, but the mention of
+him as dead, nearest to the probable date of that event, is to be found
+in [Fitzgeoffrey's "Affaniae," 1601, where an epitaph upon him is
+printed. His name also occurs in] an anonymous poem, under the title of
+"The Ant and the Nightingale, or Father Hubbard's Tales," 1604, where
+the following stanza is met with--
+
+    "Or if in bitterness thou rail like Nash:
+    Forgive me, honest soul, that term thy phrase
+    _Railing_; for in thy works thou wert not rash,
+    Nor didst affect in youth thy private praise.
+    Thou hadst a strife with that Tergemini;[11]
+    Thou hurt'dst them not till they had injured thee."[12]
+
+The author of a MS. epitaph, in "Bibl. Sloan," Pl. XXI. A. was not so
+squeamish in the language he employed--
+
+    "Here lies Tom Nash, that notable _railer_,
+    That in his life ne'er paid shoemaker nor tailor."
+
+The following from Thomas Freeman's Epigrams, 1614, is not out of its
+place--
+
+    OF THOMAS NASH.
+
+    "Nash, had Lycambes on earth living been
+    The time thou wast, his death had been all one;
+    Had he but mov'd thy tartest Muse to spleen
+    Unto the fork he had as surely gone:
+    For why? there lived not that man, I think,
+    Us'd better or more bitter gall in ink."
+
+It is impossible in the present day to attempt anything like a correct
+list of the productions of Nash, many of which were unquestionably
+printed without his name:[13] the titles of and quotations from a great
+number may be found in the various bibliographical miscellanies, easily
+accessible. When he began to write cannot be ascertained, but it was
+most likely soon after his return from the Continent, and the dispute
+between John Penry and the Bishops seems then to have engaged his
+pen.[14] There is one considerable pamphlet by him, called "Christ's
+Tears over Jerusalem," printed in 1593, which, like some of the tracts
+by Greene, is of a repentant and religious character; and it has been
+said that, though published with his name, it was not in fact his
+production. There is no sufficient ground for this supposition, and Nash
+never subsequently disowned the performance: the address "To the Reader"
+contains an apology to Gabriel Harvey for the attack upon him, in terms
+that seem to vouch for their own sincerity. "Nothing (says Nash) is
+there now so much in my vows as to be at peace with all men, and make
+submissive amends where I most displeased; not basely fear-blasted, or
+constraintively overruled, but purely pacificatory: suppliant for
+reconciliation and pardon do I sue to the principallest of them 'gainst
+whom I professed utter enmity; even of Master Doctor Harvey I heartily
+desire the like, whose fame and reputation (through some precedent
+injurious provocations and fervent excitements of young heads) I rashly
+assailed: yet now better advised, and of his perfections more
+confirmedly persuaded, unfeignedly I entreat of the whole world from my
+pen his worth may receive no impeachment. All acknowledgments of
+abundant scholarship, courteous, well-governed behaviour, and ripe,
+experienced judgment do I attribute to him."
+
+We have already seen with what malignity Harvey trampled upon the corpse
+of Greene, and he received this apology of Nash in a corresponding
+spirit; for instead of accepting it, in his "New Letter of Notable
+Contents," 1593, he rejects it with scorn: "Riotous vanity (he replies)
+was wont to root so deeply that it could hardly be unrooted; and where
+reckless impudency taketh possession, it useth not very hastily to be
+dispossessed. What say you to a spring of rankest villainy in February,
+and a harvest of ripest divinity in May? But what should we hereafter
+talk any more of paradoxes or impossibilities, when he that penned the
+most desperate and abominable pamphlet of 'Strange News,' and disgorged
+his stomach of as poisonous rancour as ever was vomited in print, within
+few months is won, or charmed, or enchanted, (or what metamorphosis
+should I term it?) to astonish carnal minds with spiritual
+meditations," &c. Such a reception of well-intended and
+eloquently-written amends was enough to make Nash repent even his
+repentance, as far as Gabriel Harvey was concerned.[15]
+
+Of the popularity of Nash as a writer some notion may be formed from a
+fact he himself mentions in his "Have with you to Saffron Walden," that
+between 1592, when his "Pierce Penniless, his Supplication to the Devil"
+was first printed, and 1596 it "passed through the pikes of at least six
+impressions." How long his reputation as a satirist survived him may be
+judged from the fact that in 1640 Taylor the Water Poet published a
+tract, which had for its second title "Tom Nash, his Ghost (the old
+Martin queller), newly rouz'd:" and in _Mercurius Anti-pragmaticus_,
+from Oct. 12 to Oct. 19, 1647, is the following passage: "Perhaps you
+will be angry now, and when you steal forth disguised, in your next
+intelligence thunder forth threatenings against me, and be as satirical
+in your language as ever was your predecessor Nash, who compiled a
+learned treatise in the praise of a red herring."
+
+Only two plays in which Nash had any concern have come down to us: his
+"Isle of Dogs," before noticed, was probably never printed, or at all
+events it is not now known to exist. He wrote alone--
+
+(1.) A pleasant Comedy called "Summer's Last Will and Testament."
+1600. 4to.
+
+In conjunction with Marlowe he produced--
+
+(2.) "The Tragedy of Dido, Queen of Carthage," played by the children
+of her Majesty's chapel. 1594. 4to.
+
+Phillips, in his "Theatrum Poetarum," also assigned to Nash, "See me,
+and see me not," a comedy, which may be a different play, and not, as
+has been generally supposed, "Hans Beer Pot;" because, the name of the
+author, Dawbridgecourt Belchier, being subscribed to the dedication,
+such a mistake could not easily be made.
+
+
+
+
+DRAMATIS PERSONAE.
+
+
+WILL SUMMER.
+VER.
+SUMMER.
+AUTUMN.
+WINTER.
+CHRISTMAS,   |  _Sons to WINTER_.
+BACKWINTEB.  |
+SOL.
+SOLSTITIUM.
+VERTUMNUS.
+ORION.
+BACCHUS.
+HARVEST.
+SATIRES.
+NYMPHS.
+_Three_ CLOWNS.
+_Three_ MAIDS.
+HUNTERS.
+REAPERS.
+MORRIS DANCERS.
+BOY _to speak the Epilogue_.
+
+
+
+
+SUMMER'S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT.[16]
+
+
+    _Enter_ WILL SUMMER,[17] _in his fool's coat
+    but half on, coming out_.
+
+_Noctem peccatis et fraudibus objice nubem_.[18] There is no such fine
+time to play the knave in as the night. I am a goose or a ghost, at
+least; for what with turmoil of getting my fool's apparel, and care of
+being perfect, I am sure I have not yet supp'd to-night. Will Summer's
+ghost I should be, come to present you with "Summer's Last Will and
+Testament." Be it so; if my cousin Ned will lend me his chain and his
+fiddle. Other stately-pac'd Prologues use to attire themselves within: I
+that have a toy in my head more than ordinary, and use to go without
+money, without garters, without girdle, without hat-band, without points
+to my hose, without a knife to my dinner, and make so much use of this
+word without in everything, will here dress me without. Dick
+Huntley[19] cries, Begin, begin: and all the whole house, For shame,
+come away; when I had my things but now brought me out of the laundry.
+God forgive me, I did not see my Lord before! I'll set a good face on
+it, as though what I had talk'd idly all this while were my part. So it
+is, _boni viri_, that one fool presents another; and I, a fool by nature
+and by art, do speak to you in the person of the idiot of our
+play-maker. He, like a fop and an ass, must be making himself a public
+laughingstock, and have no thank for his labour; where other Magisterii,
+whose invention is far more exquisite, are content to sit still and do
+nothing. I'll show you what a scurvy Prologue he had made me, in an old
+vein of similitudes: if you be good fellows, give it the hearing, that
+you may judge of him thereafter.
+
+
+
+
+THE PROLOGUE.
+
+
+At a solemn feast of the Triumviri in Rome, it was seen and observed
+that the birds ceased to sing, and sat solitary on the housetops, by
+reason of the sight of a painted serpent set openly to view. So fares it
+with us novices, that here betray our imperfections: we, afraid to look
+on the imaginary serpent of envy, painted in men's affections, have
+ceased to tune any music of mirth to your ears this twelvemonth,
+thinking that, as it is the nature of the serpent to hiss, so childhood
+and ignorance would play the gosling, contemning and condemning what
+they understood not. Their censures we weigh not, whose senses are not
+yet unswaddled. The little minutes will be continually striking, though
+no man regard them: whelps will bark before they can see, and strive to
+bite before they have teeth. Politianus speaketh of a beast who, while
+he is cut on the table, drinketh and represents the motions and voices
+of a living creature. Such like foolish beasts are we who, whilst we are
+cut, mocked, and flouted at, in every man's common talk, will
+notwithstanding proceed to shame ourselves to make sport. No man
+pleaseth all: we seek to please one. Didymus wrote four thousand books,
+or (as some say) six-thousand, on the art of grammar. Our author hopes
+it may be as lawful for him to write a thousand lines of as light a
+subject. Socrates (whom the oracle pronounced the wisest man of Greece)
+sometimes danced: Scipio and Laslius, by the sea-side, played at
+peeble-stone: _Semel insanivimus omnes_. Every man cannot with
+Archimedes make a heaven of brass, or dig gold out of the iron mines of
+the law. Such odd trifles as mathematicians' experiments be artificial
+flies to hang in the air by themselves, dancing balls, an egg-shell that
+shall climb up to the top of a spear, fiery-breathing gores, _poeta
+noster_ professeth not to make. _Placeat sibi quinque licebit_. What's a
+fool but his bauble? Deep-reaching wits, here is no deep stream for you
+to angle in. Moralisers, you that wrest a never-meant meaning out of
+everything, applying all things to the present time, keep your attention
+for the common stage; for here are no quips in characters for you to
+read. Vain glosers, gather what you will; spite, spell backward what
+thou canst. As the Parthians fight flying away, so will we prate and
+talk, but stand to nothing that we say.
+
+How say you, my masters? do you not laugh at him for a coxcomb? Why, he
+hath made a prologue longer than his play: nay, 'tis no play neither,
+but a show. I'll be sworn the jig of Rowland's godson is a giant in
+comparison of it. What can be made of Summer's last will and testament!
+Such another thing as Gyllian of Brentford's[20] will, where she
+bequeathed a score of farts amongst her friends. Forsooth, because the
+plague reigns in most places in this latter end of summer,[21] Summer
+must come in sick; he must call his officers to account, yield his
+throne to Autumn, make Winter his executor, with tittle-tattle Tom-boy.
+God give you good night in Watling Street; I care not what you say now,
+for I play no more than you hear; and some of that you heard too (by
+your leave) was _extempore_. He were as good have let me had the best
+part, for I'll be revenged on him to the uttermost, in this person of
+Will Summer, which I have put on to play the prologue, and mean not to
+put it off till the play be done. I'll sit as a chorus, and flout the
+actors and him at the end of every scene. I know they will not interrupt
+me, for fear of marring of all; but look to your cues, my masters, for I
+intend to play the knave in cue, and put you besides all your parts, if
+you take not the better heed. Actors, you rogues, come away; clear your
+throats, blow your noses, and wipe your mouths ere you enter, that you
+may take no occasion to spit or to cough, when you are _non plus_. And
+this I bar, over and besides, that none of you stroke your beards to
+make action, play with your cod-piece points, or stand fumbling on your
+buttons, when you know not how to bestow your fingers. Serve God, and
+act cleanly. A fit of mirth and an old song first, if you will.
+
+    _Enter_ SUMMER, _leaning on_ AUTUMN'S _and_ WINTER'S
+    _shoulders, and attended on with a train of Satyrs and
+    Wood-nymphs, singing_.[22]
+
+_Fair Summer droops, droop men and beasts therefore,
+So fair a summer look for never more:
+All good things vanish less than in a day,
+Peace, plenty, pleasure, suddenly decay.
+  Go not yet away, bright soul of the sad year,
+  The earth is hell when thou, leav'st to appear.
+
+What! shall those flowers that deck'd thy garland erst,
+Upon thy grave be wastefully dispersed?
+O trees, consume your sap in sorrow's source,
+Streams turn to tears your tributary course.
+  Go not yet hence, bright soul of the sad year,
+  The earth is hell when thou leav'st to appear.
+
+    [The Satyrs and Wood-nymphs go out singing, and leave_
+    SUMMER _and_ WINTER _and_ AUTUMN _on the stage_.
+
+WILL SUM. A couple of pretty boys, if they would wash their faces, and
+were well breech'd[23] in an hour or two. The rest of the green men
+have reasonable voices, good to sing catches or the great _Jowben_ by
+the fire's side in a winter's evening. But let us hear what Summer can
+say for himself, why he should not be hiss'd at.
+
+SUM. What pleasure always lasts? no joy endures:
+Summer I am; I am not what I was;
+Harvest and age have whiten'd my green head;
+On Autumn now and Winter I must lean.
+Needs must he fall, whom none but foes uphold,
+Thus must the happiest man have his black day.
+_Omnibus una manet nox, et calcanda semel via lethi_.[24]
+This month have I lain languishing a-bed,
+Looking each hour to yield my life and throne;
+And died I had indeed unto the earth,
+But that Eliza, England's beauteous Queen,
+On whom all seasons prosperously attend,
+Forbad the execution of my fate,
+Until her joyful progress was expir'd.[25]
+For her doth Summer live, and linger here,
+And wisheth long to live to her content:
+But wishes are not had, when they wish well:
+I must depart, my death-day is set down;
+To these two must I leave my wheaten crown.
+So unto unthrifts rich men leave their lands,
+Who in an hour consume long labour's gains.
+True is it that divinest Sidney sung,
+_0, he is marr'd, that is for others made_.
+Come near, my friends, for I am near my end.
+In presence of this honourable train,
+Who love me, for I patronise their sports,
+Mean I to make my final testament:
+But first I'll call my officers to 'count,
+And of the wealth I gave them to dispose,
+Know what is left I may know what to give
+Vertumnus, then, that turn'st the year about,
+Summon them one by one to answer me.
+First, Ver, the Spring, unto whose custody
+I have committed more than to the rest;
+The choice of all my fragrant meads and flowers,
+And what delights soe'er nature affords.
+
+VER. I will, my lord. Ver, lusty Ver, by the name of lusty Ver, come
+into the court! lose a mark in issues.
+
+    _Enter_ VER, _with his train, overlaid with suits of
+    green moss, representing short grass, singing.
+
+
+The Song.
+
+Spring, the sweet spring, is the year's pleasant king,
+Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in ring,
+Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing,
+Cuckow, jug, jug, pu--we, to-wit, to-whoo.
+
+The palm and may make country houses gay,
+Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,
+And hear we aye birds tune this merry lay,
+Cuckow, jug, jug, pu--we, to-wit, to-whoo.
+
+The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
+Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit;
+In every street these tunes our ears do greet,
+Cuckow, jug, jug, pu--we, to-wit, to-whoo.
+    Spring, the sweet spring_.
+
+WILL SUM. By my troth, they have voices as clear as crystal: this is
+a pratty thing, if it be for nothing but to go a-begging with.
+
+SUM. Believe me, Ver, but thou art pleasant bent;
+This humour should import a harmless mind.
+Know'st thou the reason why I sent for thee?
+
+VER. No, faith, nor care not whether I do or no.
+If you will dance a galliard, so it is: if not--
+
+    _Falangtado, Falangtado,
+    To wear the black and yellow,
+    Falantado, Falantado,
+    My mates are gone, I'll follow_.[26]
+
+SUM. Nay, stay awhile, we must confer and talk.
+Ver, call to mind I am thy sovereign lord,
+And what thou hast, of me thou hast and hold'st.
+Unto no other end I sent for thee,
+But to demand a reckoning at thy hands,
+How well or ill thou hast employ'd my wealth.
+
+VER. If that be all, we will not disagree:
+A clean trencher and a napkin you shall have presently.
+
+WILL SUM. The truth is, this fellow hath been a tapster in his days.
+
+    VER _goes in, and fetcheth out the hobby-horse[27] and
+    the morris-dance, who dance about_.
+
+SUM. How now? is this the reckoning we shall have?
+
+WIN. My lord, he doth abuse you; brook it not.
+
+AUT. _Summa totalis_, I fear, will prove him but a fool.
+
+VER. About, about! lively, put your horse to it, rein him harder; jerk
+him with your wand: sit fast, sit fast, man! fool, hold up your ladle
+there.
+
+WILL SUM. O brave Hall![28] O, well-said, butcher. Now for the credit
+of Worcestershire. The finest set of morris-dancers that is between
+this and Streatham. Marry, methinks there is one of them danceth like
+a clothier's horse, with a woolpack on his back. You, friend with the
+hobby-horse, go not too fast, for fear of wearing out my lord's
+tile-stones with your hobnails.
+
+VER. So, so, so; trot the ring twice over, and away. May it please my
+lord, this is the grand capital sum; but there are certain parcels
+behind, as you shall see.
+
+SUM. Nay, nay, no more; for this is all too much.
+
+VER. Content yourself; we'll have variety.
+
+    _Here enter three_ CLOWNS _and three_ MAIDS,
+    _singing this song, dancing:--
+
+        Trip and go, heave and hoe,
+        Up and down, to and fro;
+        From the town to the grove,
+        Two and two let us rove.
+        A maying, a playing:
+        Love hath no gainsaying;
+        So merrily trip and go_.
+
+WILL SUM. Beshrew my heart, of a number of ill legs I never saw worse
+dancers. How bless'd are you, that the wenches of the parish do not
+see you!
+
+SUM. Presumptuous Ver, uncivil-nurtur'd boy? Think'st I will be derided
+thus of thee? Is this th'account and reckoning that thou mak'st?
+
+VER. Troth, my lord, to tell you plain, I can give you no other account;
+_nam quae habui perdidi_; what I had, I spent on good fellows; in these
+sports you have seen, which are proper to the spring, and others of like
+sort (as giving wenches green gowns,[29] making garlands for fencers,
+and tricking up children gay), have I bestowed all my flowery treasure
+and flower of my youth.
+
+WILL SUM. A small matter. I know one spent in less than a year eight
+and fifty pounds in mustard, and another that ran in debt, in the space
+of four or five year, above fourteen thousand pound in lute-strings and
+grey-paper.[30]
+
+SUM. O monstrous unthrift! who e'er heard the like?
+The sea's vast throat, in so short tract of time,
+Devoureth nor consumeth half so much.
+How well might'st thou have liv'd within thy bounds.
+
+VER. What, talk you to me of living within my bounds? I tell you none
+but asses live within their bounds: the silly beasts, if they be put in
+a pasture, that is eaten bare to the very earth, and where there is
+nothing to be had but thistles, will rather fall soberly to those
+thistles and be hunger-starv'd, than they will offer to break their
+bounds; whereas the lusty courser, if he be in a barren plot, and spy
+better grass in some pasture near adjoining, breaks over hedge and
+ditch, and to go, ere he will be pent in, and not have his bellyful.
+Peradventure, the horses lately sworn to be stolen,[31] carried that
+youthful mind, who, if they had been asses, would have been yet extant.
+
+WILL SUM. Thus, we may see, the longer we live the more we shall learn:
+I ne'er thought honesty an ass till this day.
+
+VER. This world is transitory; it was made of nothing, and it must to
+nothing: wherefore, if we will do the will of our high Creator, whose
+will it is that it pass to nothing, we must help to consume it to
+nothing. Gold is more vile than men: men die in thousands and ten
+thousands, yea, many times in hundred thousands, in one battle. If then
+the best husband has been so liberal of his best handiwork, to what end
+should we make much of a glittering excrement, or doubt to spend at a
+banquet as many pounds as he spends men at a battle? Methinks I honour
+_Geta_, the Roman emperor, for a brave-minded fellow; for he commanded a
+banquet to be made him of all meats under the sun, which were served in
+after the order of the alphabet, and the clerk of the kitchen, following
+the last dish, which was two miles off from the foremost, brought him an
+index of their several names. Neither did he pingle, when it was set on
+the board, but for the space of three days and three nights never rose
+from the table.
+
+WILL SUM. O intolerable lying villain, that was never begotten without
+the consent of a whetstone![32]
+
+SUM. Ungracious man, how fondly he argueth!
+
+VER. Tell me, I pray, wherefore was gold laid under our feet in the
+veins of the earth, but that we should contemn it, and tread upon it,
+and so consequently tread thrift under our feet? It was not known till
+the iron age, _donec facinus invasit mortales_, as the poet says; and
+the Scythians always detested it. I will prove it that an unthrift, of
+any, comes nearest a happy man, in so much as he comes nearest to
+beggary. Cicero saith, _summum bonum_ consists in _omnium rerum
+vacatione_, that is, the chiefest felicity that may be to rest from all
+labours. Now who doth so much _vacare a rebus_, who rests so much, who
+hath so little to do as the beggar? who can sing so merry a note, as he
+that cannot change a groat?[33] _Cui nil est, nil deest_: he that hath
+nothing wants nothing. On the other side, it is said of the carl, _Omnia
+habeo, nec quicquam habeo_: I have all things, yet want everything.
+_Multi mihi vitio vertunt quia egeo_, saith Marcus Cato in Aulus
+Gellius; _at ego illis quia nequeunt egere_: many upbraid me, saith he,
+because I am poor; but I upbraid them, because they cannot live if they
+be poor.[34] It is a common proverb, _Divesque miserque_, a rich man and
+a miserable: _nam natura paucis contenta_, none so contented as the poor
+man. Admit that the chiefest happiness were not rest or ease, but
+knowledge, as Herillus, Alcidamus, and many of Socrates' followers
+affirm; why _paupertas omnes perdocet artes_, poverty instructs a man in
+all arts; it makes a man hardy and venturous, and therefore is it called
+of the poets _paupertas audax_, valiant poverty. It is not so much
+subject to inordinate desires as wealth or prosperity. _Non habet, unde
+suum paupertas pascat amorem_;[35] poverty hath not wherewithal to feed
+lust. All the poets were beggars; all alchemists and all philosophers
+are beggars. _Omnia mea mecum porto_, quoth Bias, when he had nothing
+but bread and cheese in a leathern bag, and two or three books in his
+bosom. Saint Francis, a holy saint, and never had any money. It is
+madness to doat upon muck. That young man of Athens, Aelianus makes
+mention of, may be an example to us, who doated so extremely on the
+image of Fortune, that when he might not enjoy it, he died for sorrow.
+The earth yields all her fruits together, and why should we not spend
+them together? I thank heavens on my knees, that have made me an
+unthrift.[36]
+
+SUM. O vanity itself: O wit ill-spent!
+So study thousands not to mend their lives,
+But to maintain the sin they most affect,
+To be hell's advocates 'gainst their own souls.
+Ver, since thou giv'st such praise to beggary,
+And hast defended it so valiantly,
+This be thy penance: thou shalt ne'er appear
+Or come abroad, but Lent shall wait on thee:
+His scarcity may countervail thy waste.
+Riot may flourish, but finds want at last.
+Take him away that knoweth no good way,
+And lead him the next way to woe and want.    [_Exit_ VER.
+Thus in the paths of knowledge many stray,
+And from the means of life fetch their decay.
+
+WILL SUM. Heigho. Here is a coil indeed to bring beggars to stocks. I
+promise you truly I was almost asleep; I thought I had been at a sermon.
+Well, for this one night's exhortation, I vow, by God's grace, never to
+be good husband while I live. But what is this to the purpose? "Hur come
+to Fowl," as the Welshman says, "and hur pay an halfpenny for hur seat,
+and hur hear the preacher talg, and hur talg very well, by gis[37]; but
+yet a cannot make her laugh: go to a theatre and hear a Queen's Fice,
+and he make hur laugh, and laugh hur belly full." So we come hither to
+laugh and be merry, and we hear a filthy, beggarly oration in the praise
+of beggary. It is a beggarly poet that writ it; and that makes him so
+much commend it, because he knows not how to mend himself. Well, rather
+than he shall have no employment but lick dishes, I will set him a work
+myself, to write in praise of the art of stooping, and how there never
+was any famous thresher, porter, brewer, pioneer, or carpenter that had
+straight back. Repair to my chamber, poor fellow, when the play is done,
+and thou shalt see what I will say to thee.
+
+SUM. Vertumnus, call Solstitium.
+
+VER. Solstitium, come into the court: without, peace there below! make
+room for Master Solstitium.
+
+    _Enter_ SOLSTITIUM, _like an aged hermit, carrying a pair of
+    balances, with an hour-glass in either of them--one hour-glass
+    white, the other black: he is brought in by a number of Shepherds,
+    playing upon recorders_.[38]
+
+SOL. All hail to Summer, my dread sovereign lord.
+
+SUM. Welcome, Solstitium: thou art one of them,
+To whose good husbandry we have referr'd
+Part of those small revenues that we have.
+What hast thou gain'd us? what hast thou brought in?
+
+SOL. Alas, my lord! what gave you me to keep
+But a few day's-eyes[39] in my prime of youth?
+And those I have converted to white hairs;
+I never lov'd ambitiously to climb,
+Or thrust my hand too far into the fire.
+To be in heaven, sure, is a bless'd thing;
+But Atlas-like to prop heaven on one's back,
+Cannot but be more labour than delight.
+Such is the state of men in honour plac'd;
+They are gold vessels made for servile uses;
+High trees that keep the weather from low houses,
+But cannot shield the tempest from themselves.
+I love to dwell betwixt the hills and dales;
+Neither to be so great to be envied,
+Nor yet so poor the world should pity me.
+_Inter utrumque tene, medio tutissimus ibis_[40].
+
+SUM. What dost thou with those balances thou bear'st?
+
+SOL. In them I weigh the day and night alike:
+This white glass is the hour-glass of the day,
+This black one the just measure of the night.
+One more than other holdeth not a grain;
+Both serve time's just proportion to maintain.
+
+SUM. I like thy moderation wondrous well;
+And this thy balance-weighing, the white glass
+And black, with equal poise and steadfast hand,
+A pattern is to princes and great men,
+How to weigh all estates indifferently;
+The spiritualty and temporalty alike:
+Neither to be too prodigal of smiles,
+Nor too severe in frowning without cause.
+If you be wise, you monarchs of the earth,
+Have two such glasses still before your eyes;
+Think as you have a white glass running on,
+Good days, friends, favour, and all things at beck,
+So this white glass run out (as out it will)
+The black comes next; your downfall is at hand.
+Take this of me, for somewhat I have tried;
+A mighty ebb follows a mighty tide.
+But say, Solstitium, hadst thou nought besides?
+Nought but day's-eyes and fair looks gave I thee?
+
+SOL. Nothing, my lord, nor aught more did I ask.
+
+SUM. But hadst thou always kept thee in my sight,
+Thy good deserts, though silent, would have ask'd.
+
+SOL. Deserts, my lord, of ancient servitors
+Are like old sores, which may not be ripp'd up.
+Such use these times have got, that none must beg,
+But those that have young limbs to lavish fast.
+
+SUM. I grieve no more regard was had of thee:
+A little sooner hadst thou spoke to me,
+Thou hadst been heard, but now the time is past:
+Death waiteth at the door for thee and me.
+Let us go measure out our beds in clay;
+Nought but good deeds hence shall we bear away.
+Be, as thou wert, best steward of my hours,
+And so return into thy country bow'rs.
+
+    [_Here_, SOLSTITIUM _goes out with his music, as he comes in_.
+
+WILL SUM. Fie, fie, of honesty, fie! Solstitium is an ass, perdy, this
+play is a gallimaufry. Fetch me some drink, somebody. What cheer, what
+cheer, my hearts? Are not you thirsty with listening to this dry sport?
+What have we to do with scales and hour-glasses, except we were bakers
+or clock-keepers? I cannot tell how other men are addicted, but it is
+against my profession to use any scales but such as we play at with a
+bowl, or keep any hours but dinner or supper. It is a pedantical thing
+to respect times and seasons: if a man be drinking with good fellows
+late, he must come home for fear the gates be shut: when I am in my warm
+bed, I must rise to prayers, because the bell rings. I like no such
+foolish customs. Actors, bring now a black jack and a rundlet of Rhenish
+wine, disputing of the antiquity of red noses: let the Prodigal
+Child[41] come in in his doublet and hose all greasy, his shirt hanging
+forth, and ne'er a penny in his purse, and talk what a fine thing it is
+to walk summerly, or sit whistling under a hedge, and keep hogs. Go
+forward, in grace and virtue to proceed, but let us have no more of
+these grave matters.
+
+SUM. Vertumnus, will Sol come before us?
+
+VER. Sol, Sol; _ut, re, mi, fa, sol_![42]
+Come to church, while the bell toll.
+
+    _Enter_ SOLSTITIUM _very richly attired,
+    with a noise of musicians before him_.
+
+SUM. Ay, marry, here comes majesty in pomp,
+Resplendent Sol, chief planet of the heavens!
+He is our servant, looks he ne'er so big.
+
+SOL. My liege, what crav'st thou at thy vassal's hands?
+
+SUM. Hypocrisy, how it can change his shape!
+How base is pride from his own dunghill put!
+How I have rais'd thee, Sol. I list not tell,
+Out of the ocean of adversity,
+To sit in height of honour's glorious heaven,
+To be the eyesore[43] of aspiring eyes:
+To give the day her life from thy bright looks,
+And let nought thrive upon the face of earth,
+From which thou shalt withdraw thy powerful smiles.
+What hast thou done, deserving such high grace?
+What industry or meritorious toil
+Canst thou produce to prove my gift well-placed?
+Some service or some profit I expect:
+None is promoted but for some respect.
+
+SOL. My lord, what need these terms betwixt us two?
+Upbraiding ill-beseems your bounteous mind:
+I do you honour for advancing me.
+Why, 'tis a credit for your excellence
+To have so great a subject as I am:
+This is your glory and magnificence,
+That, without stooping of your mightiness,
+Or taking any whit from your high state,
+You can make one as mighty as yourself.
+
+AUT. O arrogance exceeding all belief!
+Summer, my lord, this saucy upstart Jack,
+That now doth rule the chariot of the sun,
+And makes all stars derive their light from him,
+Is a most base, insinuating slave,
+The sum[44] of parsimony and disdain;
+One that will shine on friends and foes alike,
+That under brightest smiles hideth black show'rs
+Whose envious breath doth dry up springs and lake
+And burns the grass, that beasts can get no food.
+
+WIN. No dunghill hath so vile an excrement,
+But with his beams he will thenceforth exhale.
+The fens and quagmires tithe to him their filth:
+Forth purest mines he sucks a gainful dross.
+Green ivy-bushes at the vintner's doors
+He withers, and devoureth all their sap.
+
+AUT. Lascivious and intemperate he is:
+The wrong of Daphne is a well-known tale.
+Each evening he descends to Thetis' lap,
+The while men think he bathes him in the sea.
+O, but when he returneth whence he came
+Down to the west, then dawns his deity,
+Then doubled is the swelling of his looks.
+He overloads his car with orient gems,
+And reins his fiery horses with rich pearl.
+He terms himself the god of poetry,
+And setteth wanton songs unto the lute.
+
+WIN. Let him not talk, for he hath words at will,
+And wit to make the baldest[45] matter good.
+
+SUM. Bad words, bad wit! O, where dwells faith or truth?
+Ill usury my favours reap from thee,
+Usurping Sol, the hate of heaven and earth.
+
+SOL. If envy unconfuted may accuse,
+Then innocence must uncondemned die.
+The name of martyrdom offence hath gain'd
+When fury stopp'd a froward judge's ears.
+Much I'll not say (much speech much folly shows):
+What I have done you gave me leave to do.
+The excrements you bred whereon I feed;
+To rid the earth of their contagious fumes,
+With such gross carriage did I load my beam
+I burnt no grass, I dried no springs and lakes;
+I suck'd no mines, I wither'd no green boughs,
+But when to ripen harvest I was forc'd
+To make my rays more fervent than I wont.
+For Daphne's wrongs and 'scapes in Thetis' lap,
+All gods are subject to the like mishap.
+Stars daily fall ('tis use is all in all),
+And men account the fall but nature's course.
+Vaunting my jewels hasting to the west,
+Or rising early from the grey-ey'd morn,
+What do I vaunt but your large bountyhood,
+And show how liberal a lord I serve?
+Music and poetry, my two last crimes,
+Are those two exercises of delight,
+Wherewith long labours I do weary out.
+The dying swan is not forbid to sing:
+The waves of Hebrus[46] play'd on Orpheus' strings,
+When he (sweet music's trophy) was destroy'd.
+And as for poetry, words'[47] eloquence
+(Dead Phaeton's three sisters' funeral tears
+That by the gods were to Electrum turn'd),
+Not flint or rock, of icy cinders flam'd,
+Deny the force[48] of silver-falling streams.
+Envy enjoyeth poetry's unrest;[49]
+In vain I plead; well is to me a fault,
+And these my words seem the sleight[50] web of art,
+And not to have the taste of sounder truth.
+Let none but fools be car'd for of the wise:
+Knowledge' own children knowledge most despise.
+
+SUM. Thou know'st too much to know to keep the mean:
+He that sees all things oft sees not himself.
+The Thames is witness of thy tyranny,
+Whose waves thou dost exhaust for winter show'rs.
+The naked channel 'plains her of thy spite,
+That laid'st her entrails unto open sight.[51]
+Unprofitably borne to man and beast,
+Which like to Nilus yet doth hide his head,
+Some few years since[52] thou lett'st o'erflow these walks,
+And in the horse-race headlong ran at race,
+While in a cloud thou hidd'st thy burning face.
+Where was thy care to rid contagious filth,
+When some men wet-shod (with his waters) droop'd?[53]
+Others that ate the eels his heat cast up
+Sicken'd and died by them impoisoned.
+Sleptest, or kept'st thou then Admetus' sheep,
+Thou drov'st not back these flowings of the deep?
+
+SOL. The winds, not I, have floods and tides in chase.
+Diana, whom our fables call the moon,
+Only commandeth o'er the raging main:
+She leads his wallowing offspring up and down,
+She waning, all streams ebb: in the year
+She was eclips'd, when that the Thames was bare.
+
+SUM. A bare conjecture, builded on per-haps.[54]
+In laying thus the blame upon the moon,
+Thou imitat'st subtle Pythagoras
+Who, what he would the people should believe,
+The same he wrote with blood upon a glass,
+And turn'd it opposite 'gainst the new moon,
+Whose beams, reflecting on it with full force,
+Show'd all those lines to them that stood behind,
+Most plainly writ in circle of the moon:
+And then he said: not I, but the new moon,
+Fair Cynthia, persuades you this and that.
+With like collusion shalt thou now blind me;
+But for abusing both the moon and me
+Long shalt thou be eclipsed by the moon,
+And long in darkness live and see no light--
+Away with him, his doom hath no reverse!
+
+SOL. What is eclips'd will one day shine again:
+Though winter frowns, the spring will ease my pain.
+Time from the brow doth wipe out every stain.
+                                       [_Exit_ SOL.
+
+WILL SUM. I think the sun is not so long in passing through the twelve
+signs, as the son of a fool hath been disputing here about _had I
+wist_.[55] Out of doubt, the poet is bribed of some that have a mess of
+cream to eat, before my lord go to bed yet, to hold him half the night
+with raff-raff of the rumming of Elinor.[56] If I can tell what it
+means, pray God I may never get breakfast more, when I am hungry. Troth,
+I am of opinion he is one of those hieroglyphical writers, that by the
+figures of beasts, plants, and of stones, express the mind, as we do in
+A B C; or one that writes under hair, as I have heard of a certain
+notary, Histiaesus,[57] who, following Darius in the Persian wars, and
+desirous to disclose some secrets of import to his friend Aristagoras,
+that dwelt afar off, found out this means. He had a servant, that had
+been long sick of a pain in his eyes, whom, under pretence of curing his
+malady, he shaved from one side of his head to the other, and with a
+soft pencil wrote upon his scalp (as on parchment) the discourse of his
+business, the fellow all the while imagining his master had done nothing
+but 'noint his head with a feather. After this he kept him secretly in
+his tent, till his hair was somewhat grown, and then willed him to go to
+Aristagoras into the country, and bid him shave him as he had done, and
+he should have perfect remedy. He did so, Aristagoras shaved him with
+his own hands, read his friend's letter, and when he had done, washed it
+out, that no man should perceive it else, and sent him home to buy him a
+nightcap. If I wist there were any such knavery, or Peter Bales's
+brachygraphy,[58] under Sol's bushy hair, I would have a barber, my host
+of the Murrion's Head, to be his interpreter, who would whet his razor
+on his Richmond cap, and give him the terrible cut like himself, but he
+would come as near as a quart pot to the construction of it. To be
+sententious, not superfluous, Sol should have been beholding to the
+barber, and not to the beard-master.[59] Is it pride that is shadowed
+under this two-legg'd sun, that never came nearer heaven than Dubber's
+hill? That pride is not my sin, Sloven's Hall, where I was born, be my
+record. As for covetousness, intemperance, and exaction, I meet with
+nothing in a whole year but a cup of wine for such vices to be
+conversant in. _Pergite porro_, my good children,[60] and multiply the
+sins of your absurdities, till you come to the full measure of the grand
+hiss, and you shall hear how we shall purge rheum with censuring your
+imperfections.
+
+SUM. Vertumnus, call Orion.
+
+VER. Orion, Urion, Arion; My lord thou must look upon. Orion, gentleman
+dog-keeper, huntsman, come into the court: look you bring all hounds and
+no bandogs. Peace there, that we may hear their horns blow.
+
+    _Enter_ ORION _like a hunter, with a horn about his neck, all
+    his men after the same sort hallooing and blowing their horns_.
+
+ORION. Sirrah, was't thou that call'd us from our game?
+How durst thou (being but a petty god)
+Disturb me in the entrance of my sports?
+
+SUM. 'Twas I, Orion, caus'd thee to be call'd.
+
+ORION. 'Tis I, dread lord, that humbly will obey.
+
+SUM. How happ'st thou left'st the heavens to hunt below?
+As I remember thou wert Hyrieus'[61] son,
+Whom of a huntsman Jove chose for a star,
+And thou art call'd the Dog-star, art thou not?
+
+AUT. Please it, your honour, heaven's circumference
+Is not enough for him to hunt and range,
+But with those venom-breathed curs he leads,
+He comes to chase health from our earthly bounds.
+Each one of those foul-mouthed, mangy dogs
+Governs a day (no dog but hath his day):[62]
+And all the days by them so governed
+The dog-days hight; infectious fosterers
+Of meteors from carrion that arise,
+And putrified bodies of dead men,
+Are they engender'd to that ugly shape,
+Being nought else but [ill-]preserv'd corruption.
+'Tis these that, in the entrance of their reign,
+The plague and dangerous agues have brought in.
+They arre[63] and bark at night against the moon,
+For fetching in fresh tides to cleanse the streets,
+They vomit flames and blast the ripen'd fruits:
+They are death's messengers unto all those
+That sicken, while their malice beareth sway.
+
+ORION. A tedious discourse built on no ground.
+A silly fancy, Autumn, hast thou told,
+Which no philosophy doth warrantise,
+No old-received poetry confirms.
+I will not grace thee by refuting thee;
+Yet in a jest (since thou rail'st so 'gainst dogs)
+I'll speak a word or two in their defence.
+That creature's best that comes most near to men;
+That dogs of all come nearest, thus I prove:
+First, they excel us in all outward sense,
+Which no one of experience will deny:
+They hear, they smell, they see better than we.
+To come to speech, they have it questionless,
+Although we understand them not so well.
+They bark as good old Saxon as may be,
+And that in more variety than we.
+For they have one voice when they are in chase:
+Another when they wrangle for their meat:
+Another when we beat them out of doors.
+That they have reason, this I will allege;
+They choose those things that are most fit for them,
+And shun the contrary all that they may.[64]
+They know what is for their own diet best,
+And seek about for't very carefully.
+At sight of any whip they run away,
+As runs a thief from noise of hue and cry.
+Nor live they on the sweat of others' brows,
+But have their trades to get their living with--
+Hunting and coneycatching, two fine arts.
+Yea, there be of them, as there be of men,
+Of every occupation more or less:
+Some carriers, and they fetch; some watermen,
+And they will dive and swim when you bid them;
+Some butchers, and they worry sheep by night;
+Some cooks, and they do nothing but turn spits.
+Chrysippus holds dogs are logicians,
+In that, by study and by canvassing,
+They can distinguish 'twixt three several things:
+As when he cometh where three broad ways meet,
+And of those three hath stay'd at two of them,
+By which he guesseth that the game went not,
+Without more pause he runneth on the third;
+Which, as Chrysippus saith, insinuates
+As if he reason'd thus within himself:
+Either he went this, that, or yonder way,
+But neither that nor yonder, therefore this.
+But whether they logicians be or no,
+Cynics they are, for they will snarl and bite;
+Right courtiers to flatter and to fawn;
+Valiant to set upon the[ir] enemies;
+Most faithful and most constant to their friends.
+Nay, they are wise, as Homer witnesseth
+Who, talking of Ulysses' coming home,
+Saith all his household but Argus his dog
+Had quite forgot him: ay, his deep insight[65]
+Nor Pallas' art in altering his shape,
+Nor his base weeds, nor absence twenty years,
+Could go beyond or any way delude.
+That dogs physicians are, thus I infer;
+They are ne'er sick, but they know their disease,
+And find out means to ease them of their grief;
+Special good surgeons to cure dangerous wounds:
+For, stricken with a stake into the flesh,
+This policy they use to get it out:
+They trail one of their feet upon the ground,
+And gnaw the flesh about where the wound is
+Till it be clean drawn out: and then, because
+Ulcers and sores kept foul are hardly cur'd,
+They lick and purify it with their tongue,
+And well observe Hippocrates' old rule,
+The only medicine for the foot is rest:
+For if they have the least hurt in their feet,
+They bear them up and look they be not stirr'd.
+When humours rise, they eat a sovereign herb,
+Whereby what cloys their stomachs they cast up;
+And as some writers of experience tell,
+They were the first invented vomiting.
+Sham'st thou not, Autumn, unadvisedly
+To slander such rare creatures as they be?
+
+SUM. We call'd thee not, Orion, to this end,
+To tell a story of dogs' qualities.
+With all thy hunting how are we enrich'd?
+What tribute pay'st thou us for thy high place?
+
+ORION. What tribute should I pay you out of nought?
+Hunters do hunt for pleasure, not for gain.
+While dog-days last, the harvest safely thrives;
+The sun burns hot to finish up fruits' growth;
+There is no blood-letting to make men weak.
+Physicians in their Cataposia
+Or little Elinctoria,
+Masticatorum, and Cataplasmata:
+Their gargarisms, clysters, and pitch'd-cloths,
+Their perfumes, syrups, and their triacles,
+Refrain to poison the sick patients,
+And dare not minister, till I be out.
+Then none will bathe, and so are fewer drown'd.
+All lust is perilsome, therefore less us'd!
+In brief, the year without me cannot stand.
+Summer, I am thy staff and thy right hand.
+
+SUM. A broken staff, a lame right hand I had,
+If thou wert all the stay that held me up,
+_Nihil violentum perpetuum_.
+No violence that liveth to old age.
+Ill-govern'd star, that never bod'st good luck,
+I banish thee a twelvemonth and a day
+Forth of my presence; come not in my sight,
+Nor show thy head so much as in the night.
+
+ORION. I am content: though hunting be not out,
+We will go hunt in hell for better hap.
+One parting blow, my hearts, unto our friends,
+To bid the fields and huntsmen all farewell.
+Toss up your bugle-horns unto the stars:
+Toil findeth ease, peace follows after wars.
+                                        [_Exit_.
+
+    [_Here they go out, blowing their horns, and
+    hallooing as they came in_.
+
+WILL SUM. Faith, this scene of Orion is right _prandium caninum_, a
+dog's dinner which, as it is without wine, so here's a coil about dogs
+without wit. If I had thought the ship of fools[66] would have stay'd to
+take in fresh water at the Isle of Dogs, I would have furnish'd it with
+a whole kennel of collections to the purpose. I have had a dog myself,
+that would dream and talk in his sleep, turn round like Ned fool, and
+sleep all night in a porridge-pot. Mark but the skirmish between
+Sixpence and the fox, and it is miraculous how they overcome one another
+in honourable courtesy. The fox, though he wears a chain, runs as though
+he were free; mocking us (as it is a crafty beast), because we, having a
+lord and master to attend on, run about at our pleasures, like
+masterless men. Young Sixpence, the best page his master hath, plays a
+little, and retires. I warrant he will not be far out of the way when
+his master goes to dinner. Learn of him, you diminutive urchins, how to
+behave yourselves in your vocation: take not up your standings in a
+nut-tree, when you should be waiting on my lord's trencher. Shoot but a
+bit at butts; play but a span at points. Whatever you do, _memento
+mori_--remember to rise betimes in the morning.
+
+SUM. Vertumnus, call Harvest.
+
+VER. Harvest, by west and by north, by south and by east,
+Show thyself like a beast.
+Goodman Harvest, yeoman, come in and say what you can. Boom for the
+scythe and the sickle there.
+
+    _Enter_ HARVEST, _with a scythe on his neck, and all
+    his reapers with sickles, and a great black bowl with
+    a posset in it, borne before him; they come in singing.
+
+        The Song.
+
+        Merry, merry, merry: cheery, cheery, cheery,
+          Trowl the blade bowl[67] to me;
+        Hey derry, derry, with a poup and a lerry,
+          I'll trowl it again to thee:
+
+        Hooky, hooky, we have shorn,
+          And we have bound,
+        And we have brought Harvest
+          Home to town_.
+
+SUM. Harvest, the bailiff of my husbandry,
+What plenty hast thou heap'd into our barns?
+I hope thou hast sped well, thou art so blithe.
+
+HAR. Sped well or ill, sir, I drink to you on the same.
+Is your throat clear to help us sing, _Hooky, hooky?
+
+        [Here they all sing after him.
+
+        Hooky, hooky, we have shorn,
+          And we have bound;
+        And we have brought Harvest
+          Home to town_.
+
+AUT. Thou Corydon, why answer'st not direct?
+
+HAR. Answer? why, friend, I am no tapster, to say, Anon, anon, sir:[68]
+but leave you to molest me, goodman tawny-leaves, for fear (as the
+proverb says, leave is light) so I mow off all your leaves with my
+scythe.
+
+WIN. Mock not and mow[69] not too long; you were best not,[70]
+For fear we whet your scythe upon your pate.
+
+SUM. Since thou art so perverse in answering,
+Harvest, hear what complaints are brought to me.
+Thou art accused by the public voice
+For an engrosser of the common store;
+A carl that hast no conscience nor remorse,
+But dost impoverish the fruitful earth,
+To make thy garners rise up to the heavens.
+To whom giv'st thou? who feedeth at thy board?
+No alms, but [an] unreasonable gain
+Digests what thy huge iron teeth devour:
+Small beer, coarse bread, the hind's and beggar's cry,
+Whilst thou withholdest both the malt and flour,
+And giv'st us bran and water (fit for dogs).
+
+HAR. Hooky, hooky! if you were not my lord, I would say you lie. First
+and foremost, you say I am a grocer. A grocer is a citizen: I am no
+citizen, therefore no grocer. A hoarder up of grain: that's false; for
+not so much for my elbows eat wheat every time I lean upon them.[71] A
+carl: that is as much as to say, a coneycatcher of good fellowship. For
+that one word you shall pledge me a carouse: eat a spoonful of the curd
+to allay your choler. My mates and fellows, sing no more _Merry, merry_,
+but weep out a lamentable _Hooky, hooky_, and let your sickles cry--
+
+    _Sick, sick, and very sick,
+      And side, and for the time;
+    For Harvest your master is
+      Abusd without reason or rhyme_.
+
+I have no conscience, I? I'll come nearer to you, and yet I am no scab,
+nor no louse. Can you make proof wherever I sold away my conscience, or
+pawned it? Do you know who would buy it, or lend any money upon it? I
+think I have given you the pose. Blow your nose, Master Constable. But
+to say that I impoverish the earth, that I rob the man in the moon, that
+I take a purse on the top of St Paul's steeple; by this straw and thread,
+I swear you are no gentleman, no proper man, no honest man, to make me
+sing, _O man in desperation_.[72]
+
+SUM. I must give credit unto what I hear!
+For other than I hear detract[73] I nought.
+
+HAR. Ay, ay; nought seek, nought have: An ill-husband is the first step
+to a knave. You object, I feed none at my board: I am sure, if you were
+a hog, you would never say so: for, sir reverence of their worships,
+they feed at my stable-table every day. I keep good hospitality for hens
+and geese: gleaners are oppressed with heavy burthens of my bounty:
+They take me and eat me to the very bones,
+Till there be nothing left but gravel and stones;
+And yet I give no alms, but devour all! They say, what a man cannot hear
+well, you hear with your harvest-ears; but if you heard with your
+harvest-ears, that is, with the ears of corn which my alms-cart scatters,
+they would tell you that I am the very poor man's box of pity; that there
+are more holes of liberality open in Harvest's heart than in a sieve or
+a dust-box. Suppose you were a craftsman or an artificer, and should come
+to buy corn of me, you should have bushels of me; not like the baker's
+loaf, that should weigh but six ounces, but usury for your money,
+thousands for one. What would you have more? Eat me out of my apparel,[74]
+if you will, if you suspect me for a miser.
+
+SUM. I credit thee, and think thou wert belied.
+But tell me, hast thou a good crop this year?
+
+HAR. Hay, good[75] plenty, which was so sweet
+and so good, that when I jerted my whip, and said
+to my horses but _hay_, they would go as they were
+mad.
+
+SUM. But _hay_ alone thou sayst not, but _hay-ree_[76].
+
+HAR. I sing hay-ree, that is, hay and rye; meaning that they shall have
+hay and rye, their bellyfuls, if they will draw hard. So we say, _Wa
+hay_, when they go out of the way; meaning that they shall want hay if
+they will not do as they should do.
+
+SUM. How thrive thy oats, thy barley, and thy wheat?
+
+HAR. My oats grow like a cup of beer that makes the brewer rich; my rye
+like a cavalier, that wears a huge feather in his cap, but hath no
+courage in his heart; hath[77] a long stalk, a goodly husk, but nothing
+so great a kernel as it was wont. My barley, even as many a novice, is
+cross-bitten,[78] as soon as ever he peeps out of the shell, so was it
+frost-bitten in the blad, yet pick'd up his crumbs again afterward, and
+bad "Fill pot, hostess," in spite of a dear year. As for my peas and my
+vetches, they are famous, and not to be spoken of.
+
+AUT. Ay, ay, such country-button'd caps as you
+Do want no fetches[79] to undo great towns.
+
+HAR. Will you make good your words that we want no fetches?
+
+WIN. Ay, that he shall.
+
+HAR. Then fetch us a cloak-bag, to carry away yourself in.
+
+SUM. Plough-swains are blunt, and will taunt bitterly.
+Harvest, when all is done, thou art the man:
+Thou dost me the best service of them all.
+Rest from thy labours, till the year renews,
+And let the husbandmen [all] sing thy praise.
+
+HAR. Rest from my labours, and let the husbandmen sing my praise? Nay,
+we do not mean to rest so: by your leave, we'll have a largess amongst
+you, ere we part.
+
+ALL. A largess, a largess, a largess!
+
+WILL SUM. Is there no man will give them a hiss for a largess?
+
+HAR. No, that there is not, goodman Lungis.[80] I see charity waxeth
+cold, and I think this house be her habitation, for it is not very hot:
+we were as good even put up our pipes and sing _Merry, merry_, for we
+shall get no money.
+
+            [_Here they all go out singing.
+
+        Merry, merry, merry: cheery, cheery, cheery!
+          Trowl the black bowl to me.
+        Hey derry, derry, with a poup and a lerry;
+          I'll trowl it again to thee.
+
+        Hooky, hooky, we have shorn
+          And we have bound,
+        And we have brought Harvest
+          Home to town_.
+
+WILL SUM. Well, go thy ways, thou bundle of straw: I'll give thee this
+gift; thou shalt be a clown while thou liv'st. As lusty as they are,
+they run on the score with George's wife for their posset; and God knows
+who shall pay goodman Yeoman for his wheat sheaf. They may sing well
+enough--
+
+        _"Trowl the black bowl to me,
+        Trowl the black bowl to me_;"
+
+for a hundred to one but they will all be drunk, ere they go to bed. Yet
+of a slavering fool, that hath no conceit in anything but in carrying a
+wand in his hand with commendation, when he runneth by the highway-side,
+this stripling Harvest hath done reasonable well. O, that somebody had
+the sense to set his thatched suit on fire, and so lighted him out: if I
+had but a jet[81] ring on my finger, I might have done with him what I
+list. I had spoiled him, had I[82] took his apparel prisoner; for, it
+being made of straw, and the nature of jet to draw straw unto it, I
+would have nailed him to the pommel of my chair, till the play were
+done, and then have carried him to my chamber-door, and laid him at the
+threshold, as a wisp or a piece of mat, to wipe my shoes on every time I
+come up dirty.
+
+SUM. Vertumnus, call Bacchus.
+
+VER. Bacchus, Baccha, Bacchum: God Bacchus, God fat-back,
+Baron of double beer and bottle ale,
+Come in and show thy nose that is nothing pale:
+Back, back, that[83] God barrel-belly may enter.
+
+    _Enter_ BACCHUS _riding upon an ass trapped in ivy, himself
+    dressed in vine leaves, and a garland of grapes on his head;
+    his companions having all jacks in their hands, and ivy
+    garlands on their heads; they come singing.
+
+    The Song.
+
+    Monsieur Mingo for quaffing doth surpass,
+    In cup, in corn or glass.
+    God Bacchus, do me right,
+    And dub me knight
+                    Domingo_.[84]
+
+BAC. Wherefore didst thou call me, Vertumnus? hast any drink to give me?
+One of you hold my ass, while I light: walk him up and down the hall,
+till I talk a word or two.
+
+SUM. What, Bacchus; still _animus in patina_:[85] no mind but on the pot?
+
+BAC. Why, Summer, Summer, how wouldst do but for rain? What's a fair
+house without water coming to it! Let me see how a smith can work, if he
+have not his trough standing by him. What sets an edge on a knife? the
+grindstone alone? No, the moist element poured upon it, which grinds out
+all gaps, sets a point upon it, and scours it as bright as the
+firmament. So I tell thee, give a soldier wine before he goes to battle;
+it grinds out all gaps, it makes him forget all scars and wounds, and
+fight in the thickest of his enemies, as though he were but at foils
+among his fellows. Give a scholar wine going to his book, or being about
+to invent; it sets a new point on his wit, it glazeth it, it scours it,
+it gives him _acumen_. Plato saith, _Vinum esse fomitem quendam, et
+incitabilem ingenii virtutisque_. Aristotle saith, _Nulla est magna
+scientia absque mixtura dementia_! There is no excellent knowledge
+without mixture of madness, and what makes a man more mad in the head
+than wine? _Qui bene vult [Greek: Pioein] debet ante [Greek: pinein]_:
+He that will do well must drink well. _Prome, prome, potum prome_! Ho,
+butler, a fresh pot! _Nunc est libendum, nunc pede libero terra
+pulsanda_:[86] a pox on him that leaves his drink behind him.
+_Rendezvous_!
+
+SUM. It is wine's custom to be full of words. I pray thee, Bacchus, give
+us _vicissitudinem loquendi_.
+
+BAC. A fiddlestick! ne'er tell me I am full of words. _Faecundi calices,
+quem non fecere disertum; aut bibe[87] aut abi_; either take your
+drink, or you are an infidel.
+
+SUM. I would about thy vintage question thee. How thrive thy vines?
+hadst thou good store of grapes?
+
+BAC. _Vinum quasi venenum_; Wine is poison to a sick body. A sick body
+is no sound body; _ergo_, wine is a pure thing, and is poison to all
+corruption. Try-lill! the hunters whoop to you. I'll stand to it:
+Alexander was a brave man, and yet an arrant drunkard.
+
+WIN. Fie, drunken sot! forgett'st thou where thou art?
+My lord asks thee what vintage thou hast made?
+
+BAC. Our vintage was a vintage, for it did not work upon the advantage:
+it came in the vauntguard of Summer.
+And winds and storms met it by the way,
+And made it cry, alas, and well-a-day!
+
+SUM. That was not well; but all miscarried not?
+
+BAC. Faith, shall I tell no lie? Because you are my countryman, and so
+forth; and a good fellow is a good fellow, though he have never a penny
+in his purse.[88] We had but even pot-luck--little to moisten our lips
+and no more. That same Sol is a pagan and a proselyte: he shined so
+bright all summer, that he burnt more grapes than his beams were worth,
+were every beam as big as a weaver's beam. _A fabis abstinendum_; faith,
+he should have abstained, for what is flesh and blood without his liquor?
+
+AUT. Thou want'st no liquor, nor no flesh and blood.
+I pray thee, may I ask without offence,
+How many tuns of wine hast in thy paunch?
+Methinks that [that is] built like a round church,
+Should yet have some of Julius Caesar's wine:
+I warrant 'twas not broached this hundred year.
+
+BAC. Hear'st thou, dough-belly! because thou talk'st and talk'st, and
+dar'st not drink to me a black jack, wilt thou give me leave to broach
+this little kilderkin of my corpse against thy back? I know thou art but
+a micher,[89] and dar'st not stand me. _A vous, Monsieur Winter_, a
+frolic up-se-frieze:[90] cross, ho.' _super naculum_.[91]
+                                      [_Knocks the jack upon his thumb_.
+
+WIN. Gramercy, Bacchus, as much as though I did. For this time thou must
+pardon me perforce.
+
+BAC. What, give me the disgrace? go to, I say, I am no Pope to pardon
+any man. Ran, ran, tara: cold beer makes good blood. St George for
+England![92] Somewhat is better than nothing. Let me see, hast thou done
+me justice? why so: thou art a king, though there were no more kings in
+the cards but the knave. Summer, wilt thou have a demi-culverin, that
+shall cry _Husty-tusty_, and make thy cup fly fine meal in the element?
+
+SUM. No, keep thy drink, I pray thee, to thyself.
+
+BAC. This Pupilonian in the fool's coat shall have a cast of martins and
+a whiff. To the health of Captain Rinocerotry! Look to it; let him have
+weight and measure.
+
+WILL SUM. What an ass is this! I cannot drink so much, though I should
+burst.
+
+BAC. Fool, do not refuse your moist sustenance: come, come, dog's head
+in the pot; do what you are born to.
+
+WILL SUM. If you will needs make me a drunkard against my will, so it
+is; I'll try what burden my belly is of.
+
+BAC. Crouch, crouch on your knees, fool, when you pledge God Bacchus.
+
+    [_Here_ WILL SUMMER _drinks, and they sing
+    about him_, BACCHUS _begins_.
+
+All. _Monsieur Mingo for quaffing did surpass
+In cup, in can, or glass_.
+
+BAC. Ho, well shot, a toucher, a toucher!
+_For quaffing Toy doth pass,
+In cup, in can, or glass_.[93]
+
+All. _God Bacchus, do him right,
+And dub him knight_.
+
+BAC. Rise up, Sir Robert Toss-pot.
+    [_Here he dubs_ WILL SUMMER _with the black jack_.
+
+SUM. No more of this, I hate it to the death.
+No such deformer of the soul and sense,
+As is this swinish damn'd horn drunkenness.
+Bacchus, for thou abusest so earth's fruits,
+Imprison'd live in cellars and in vaults.
+Let none commit their counsels unto thee;
+Thy wrath be fatal to thy dearest friends;
+Unarmed run upon thy foemen's swords;
+Never fear any plague, before it fall:
+Dropsies and watery tympanies haunt thee;
+Thy lungs with surfeiting be putrified,
+To cause thee have an odious stinking breath;
+Slaver and drivel like a child at mouth;
+Be poor and beggarly in thy old age;
+Let thine own kinsmen laugh when thou complain'st,
+And many tears gain nothing but blind scoffs.
+This is the guerdon due to drunkenness:
+Shame, sickness, misery follow excess.
+
+BAC. Now on my honour, Sim Summer, thou art a bad member, a dunce, a
+mongrel, to discredit so worshipful an art after this order. Thou hast
+cursed me, and I will bless thee. Never cap of Nipitaty[94] in London
+come near thy niggardly habitation! I beseech the gods of good
+fellowship thou may'st fall into a consumption with drinking small beer!
+Every day may'st thou eat fish, and let it stick in the midst of thy
+maw, for want of a cup of wine to swim away in. Venison be _venenum_ to
+thee: and may that vintner have the plague in his house that sells a
+drop of claret to kill the poison of it! As many wounds may'st thou have
+as Caesar had in the senate-house, and get no white wine to wash them
+with; and to conclude, pine away in melancholy and sorrow, before thou
+hast the fourth part of a dram of my juice to cheer up thy spirits.
+
+SUM. Hale him away, he barketh like a wolf:
+It is his drink, not he, that rails on us.
+
+BAC. Nay soft, brother Summer, back with that fool. Here is a snuff in
+the bottom of the jack, enough[95] to light a man to bed withal: we'll
+leave no flocks behind us, whatsoever we do.
+
+SUM. Go drag him hence, I say, when I command.
+
+BAC. Since we must needs go, let's go merrily. Farewell, Sir Robert
+Toss-pot: sing amain _Monsieur Mingo_, whilst I mount up my ass.
+
+    [_Here they go out, singing, "Monsieur Mingo," as they came in_.
+
+WILL SUM. Of all the gods, this Bacchus is the ill-favoured'st
+mis-shapen god that ever I saw. A pox on him! he hath christened me with
+a new nickname of Sir Robert Toss-pot that will not part from me this
+twelvemonth. Ned fool's clothes are so perfumed with the beer he poured
+on me, that there shall not be a Dutchman within twenty miles, but he'll
+smell out and claim kindred of him. What a beastly thing it is to bottle
+up all in a man's belly, when a man must set his guts on a gallon-pot
+last, only to purchase the alehouse title of _boon companion_. "Carouse;
+pledge me, and you dare! 'Swounds, I'll drink with thee for all that
+ever thou art worth!" It is even as two men should strive who should run
+farthest into the sea for a wager. Methinks these are good household
+terms, "Will it please you to be here, sir? I commend me to you! Shall I
+be so bold as trouble you? Saving your tale, I drink to you." And if
+these were put in practice but a year or two in taverns, wine would soon
+fall from six-and-twenty pound a tun, and be beggar's money--a penny a
+quart, and take up his inn with waste beer in the alms-tub. I am a
+sinner as others: I must not say much of this argument. Every one, when
+he is whole, can give advice to them that are sick. My masters, you that
+be good fellows, get you into corners, and sup off your provender
+closely:[96] report hath a blister on her tongue! open taverns are
+tell-tales. _Non peccat quicunque potest peccasse negare_.
+
+SUM. I'll call my servants to account, said I?
+A bad account; worse servants no man hath.
+_Quos credis fidos effuge, tutis eris_:
+The proverb I have prov'd to be too true,
+_Totidem domi hostes habemus quot servos_.
+And that wise caution of Democritus,
+_Servus necessaria possessio, non autem dulcis_:
+Nowhere fidelity and labour dwells.
+How[97] young heads count to build on had I wist.
+Conscience but few respect, all hunt for gain:
+Except the camel have his provender
+Hung at his mouth, he will not travel on.
+Tyresias to Narcissus promised
+Much prosperous hap and many golden days,
+If of his beauty he no knowledge took.
+Knowledge breeds pride, pride breedeth discontent:
+Black discontent, thou urgest to revenge:
+Revenge opes not her ears to poor men's prayers.
+That dolt destruction is she without doubt,
+That hales her forth and feedeth her with nought.
+Simplicity and plainness, you I love!
+Hence, double diligence, thou mean'st deceit:
+Those that now serpent-like creep on the ground,
+And seem to eat the dust, they crouch so low--
+If they be disappointed of their prey,
+Most traitorously will trace their nails and sting.
+Yea, such as, like[98] the lapwing, build their nests
+In a man's dung, come up by drudgery,
+Will be the first that, like that foolish bird,
+Will follow him with yelling and false cries.
+Well[99] sung a shepherd, that now sleeps in skies,[100]
+"Dumb swans do love, and not vain chattering pies."
+In mountains, poets say, Echo is hid,
+For her deformity and monstrous shape:
+Those mountains are the houses of great lords,
+Where Stentor, with his hundred voices, sounds
+A hundred trumps at once with rumour fill'd.
+A woman they imagine her to be,
+Because that sex keep nothing close they hear;
+And that's the reason magic writers frame[101]
+There are more witches women, than of men;
+For women generally, for the most part,
+Of secrets more desirous are than men[102],
+Which having got, they have no power to hold.
+In these times had Echo's first fathers liv'd,
+No woman, but a man, she had been feign'd
+(Though women yet will want no news to prate);
+For men (mean men), the scum and dross of all,
+Will talk and babble of they know not what,
+Upbraid, deprave, and taunt they care not whom.
+Surmises pass for sound approved truths;
+Familiarity and conference,
+That were the sinews of societies,
+Are now for underminings only us'd;
+And novel wits, that love none but themselves,
+Think wisdom's height as falsehood slyly couch'd,
+Seeking each other to o'erthrow his mate.
+O friendship! thy old temple is defac'd:
+Embracing envy,[103] guileful courtesy,
+Hath overgrown fraud-wanting honesty.
+Examples live but in the idle schools:
+Sinon bears all the sway in princes' courts.
+Sickness, be thou my soul's physician;
+Bring the apothecary Death with thee.
+In earth is hell, hell true[104] felicity,
+Compared with this world, the den of wolves!
+
+AUT. My lord, you are too passionate without cause.
+
+WIN. Grieve not for that which cannot be recall'd.
+Is it your servant's carelessness you 'plain?
+Tully by one of his own slaves was slain.
+The husbandman close in his bosom nurs'd
+A subtle snake, that after wrought his bane.
+
+AUT. _Servos fideles liberalitas facit_;
+Where on the contrary, _servitutem_--
+Those that attend upon illiberal lords,
+Whose covetise yields nought else but fair looks,
+Even of those fair looks make their gainful use.
+For, as in Ireland and in Denmark both,
+Witches for gold will sell a man a wind[105]
+Which, in the corner of a napkin wrapp'd,
+Shall blow him safe unto what coast he will;
+So make ill-servants sale of their lord's wind
+Which, wrapp'd up in a piece of parchment,
+Blows many a knave forth danger of the law.
+
+SUM. Enough of this: let me go make my will.
+Ah! it is made, although I hold my peace:
+These two will share betwixt them what I have.
+The surest way to get my will perform'd
+Is to make my executor my heir;
+And he, if all be given him, and none else,
+Unfallibly will see it well-perform'd.
+Lions will feed though none bid them go to.
+Ill-grows the tree affordeth ne'er a graft:
+Had I some issue to sit on my throne,
+My grief would die, death should not hear me groan;
+But when, perforce, these must enjoy my wealth,
+Which thank me not, but enter't as a prey,
+Bequeath'd it is not, but clean cast away.
+Autumn, be thou successor to my seat:
+Hold, take my crown:--look, how he grasps for it!
+Thou shalt not have it yet--but hold it, too;
+Why should I keep what needs I must forego?
+
+WIN. Then, duty laid aside, you do me wrong.
+I am more worthy of it far than he:
+He hath no skill nor courage for to rule.
+A weatherbeaten, bankrupt ass it is
+That scatters and consumeth all he hath:
+Each one do pluck from him without control.
+He is not hot nor cold; a silly soul,
+That fain would please each part[106], if so he might.
+He and the Spring are scholars' favourites:
+What scholars are, what thriftless kind of men,
+Yourself be judge; and judge of him by them.
+When Cerberus was headlong drawn from hell,
+He voided a black poison from his mouth,
+Call'd _Aconitum_, whereof ink was made:
+That ink, with reeds first laid on dried barks,
+Serv'd me awhile to make rude works withal,
+Till Hermes, secretary to the gods,
+Or Hermes Trismegistus, as some will,
+Weary with graving in blind characters
+And figures of familiar beasts and plants,
+Invented letters to write lies withal.
+In them he penn'd the fables of the gods,
+The giants' war, and thousand tales besides.
+After each nation got these toys in use[107]
+There grew up certain drunken parasites,
+Term'd poets, which, for a meal's meat or two.
+Would promise monarchs immortality.
+They vomited in verse all that they knew;
+Feign'd causes and beginnings of the world;
+Fetch'd pedigrees of mountains and of floods
+From men and women whom the gods transform'd.
+If any town or city they pass'd by
+Had in compassion (thinking them madmen)
+Forborne to whip them, or imprison them,
+That city was not built by human hands;
+'Twas rais'd by music, like Megara walls:
+Apollo, poets' patron, founded it,
+Because they found one fitting favour there.
+Musaeus, Linus, Homer, Orpheus,
+Were of this trade, and thereby won their fame.
+
+WILL SUM. _Fama malum, quo non [aliud] velocius ullum_[108].
+
+WIN. Next them a company of ragged knaves,
+Sun-bathing beggars, lazy hedge-creepers,
+Sleeping face upwards in the fields all night,
+Dream'd strange devices of the sun and moon;
+And they, like gipsies, wandering up and down,
+Told fortunes, juggled, nicknam'd all the stars,
+And were of idiots term'd philosophers.
+Such was Pythagoras the silencer;
+Prometheus, Thales, Milesius,
+Who would all things of water should be made:
+Anaximander, Anaxamines,
+That positively said the air was God:
+Zenocrates, that said there were eight gods;
+And Cratoniates and Alcmaeon too,
+Who thought the sun and moon and stars were gods.
+The poorer sort of them, that could get nought,
+Profess'd, like beggarly Franciscan friars,
+And the strict order of the Capuchins,
+A voluntary, wretched poverty,
+Contempt of gold, thin fare, and lying hard.
+Yet he that was most vehement in these,
+Diogenes, the cynic and the dog,
+Was taken coining money in his cell.
+
+WILL SUM. What an old ass was that. Methinks he should have coined
+carrot-roots rather; for, as for money, he had no use for['t], except
+it were to melt, and solder up holes in his tub withal.
+
+WIN. It were a whole Olympiad's work to tell
+How many devilish, _ergo_, armed arts,
+Sprung all as vices of this idleness:
+For even as soldiers not employ'd in wars,
+But living loosely in a quiet state--
+Not having wherewithal to maintain pride,
+Nay, scarce to find their bellies any food--
+Nought but walk melancholy, and devise,
+How they may cozen merchants, fleece young heirs,
+Creep into favour by betraying men,
+Rob churches, beg waste toys, court city dames,
+Who shall undo their husbands for their sakes;
+The baser rabble how to cheat and steal,
+And yet be free from penalty of death:[109]
+So these word-warriors, lazy star-gazers,
+Us'd to no labour but to louse themselves,
+Had their heads fill'd with cozening fantasies.
+They plotted how to make their poverty
+Better esteem'd of than high sovereignty.
+They thought how they might plant a heaven on earth,
+Whereof they would be principal low-gods;[110]
+That heaven they called Contemplation:
+As much to say as a most pleasant sloth,
+Which better I cannot compare than this,
+That if a fellow, licensed to beg,
+Should all his lifetime go from fair to fair
+And buy gape-seed, having no business else.
+That contemplation, like an aged weed,
+Engender'd thousand sects, and all those sects
+Were but as these times, cunning shrouded rogues.
+Grammarians some, and wherein differ they
+From beggars that profess the pedlar's French?[111]
+The poets next, slovenly, tatter'd slaves,
+That wander and sell ballads in the streets.
+Historiographers others there be,
+And they, like lazars, lie[112] by the highway-side,
+That for a penny or a halfpenny
+Will call each knave a good-fac'd gentleman,
+Give honour unto tinkers for good ale,
+Prefer a cobbler 'fore the black prince far,
+If he bestow but blacking on their shoes:
+And as it is the spittle-houses' guise
+Over their gate to write their founders' names,
+Or on the outside of their walls at least,
+In hope by their example others mov'd
+Will be more bountiful and liberal;
+So in the forefront of their chronicles,
+Or _peroratione operis_,
+They learning's benefactors reckon up,
+Who built this college, who gave that free school,
+What king or queen advanced scholars most,
+And in their times what writers flourished.
+Rich men and magistrates, whilst yet they live,
+They flatter palpably, in hope of gain.
+Smooth-tongued orators, the fourth in place--
+Lawyers our commonwealth entitles them--
+Mere swash-bucklers and ruffianly mates,
+That will for twelvepence make a doughty fray,
+Set men for straws together by the ears.
+Sky-measuring mathematicians,
+Gold-breathing alchemists also we have,
+Both which are subtle-witted humourists,
+That get their meals by telling miracles,
+Which they have seen in travelling the skies.
+Vain boasters, liars, makeshifts, they are all;
+Men that, removed from their ink-horn terms,[113]
+Bring forth no action worthy of their bread.
+What should I speak of pale physicians,
+Who as _Fismenus non nasatus_ was
+(Upon a wager that his friends had laid)
+Hir'd to live in a privy a whole year,
+So are they hir'd for lucre and for gain,
+All their whole life to smell on excrements.
+
+WILL SUM. Very true, for I have heard it for a proverb many a time and
+oft, _Hinc os faetidum_; Fah! he stinks like a physician.
+
+WIN. Innumerable monstrous practices
+Hath loitering contemplation brought forth more,
+Which were too long particular to recite:
+Suffice they all conduce unto this end,
+To banish labour, nourish slothfulness,
+Pamper up lust, devise new-fangled sins.
+Nay, I will justify, there is no vice
+Which learning and vile knowledge brought not in,
+Or in whose praise some learned have not wrote.
+The art of murder Machiavel hath penn'd;[114]
+Whoredom hath Ovid to uphold her throne,
+And Aretine of late in Italy,
+Whose Cortigiana teacheth[115] bawds their trade.
+Gluttony Epicurus doth defend,
+And books of the art of cookery confirm,
+Of which Platina hath not writ the least.
+Drunkenness of his good behaviour
+Hath testimonial from where he was born;
+That pleasant work De Arte Bibendi,
+A drunken Dutchman spew'd out few years since.[116]
+Nor wanteth sloth, although sloth's plague be want,
+His paper pillars for to lean upon.[117]
+The praise of nothing pleads his worthiness.[118]
+Folly Erasmus sets a flourish on:
+For baldness a bald ass I have forgot
+Patch'd up a pamphletary periwig.[119]
+Slovenry Grobianus magnifieth:[120]
+Sodomitry a cardinal commends,
+And Aristotle necessary deems.
+In brief, all books, divinity except,
+Are nought but tales of the devil's laws,
+Poison wrapt up in sugar'd words,
+Man's pride, damnation's props, the world's abuse.
+Then censure, good my lord, what bookmen are:
+If they be pestilent members in a state,
+He is unfit to sit at stern of state,
+That favours such as will o'erthrow his state.
+Blest is that government, where no art thrives;
+_Vox pupuli, vox Dei_,
+The vulgar's voice it is the voice of God.
+Yet Tully saith, _Non est concilium in vulgo,
+Non ratio, non discrimen, non differentia_,
+The vulgar have no learning, wit, nor sense.
+Themistocles, having spent all his time
+In study of philosophy and arts,
+And noting well the vanity of them,
+Wish'd, with repentance for his folly pass'd,
+Some would teach him th'art of oblivion,
+How to forget the arts that he had learn'd.
+And Cicero, whom we alleged before,
+(As saith Valerius), stepping into old age,
+Despised learning, loathed eloquence.
+Naso, that could speak nothing but pure verse,
+And had more wit than words to utter it,
+And words as choice as ever poet had,
+Cried and exclaim'd in bitter agony,
+When knowledge had corrupted his chaste mind:
+_Discite, qui sapitis, non haec quae scimus inertes,
+Sed trepidas acies et fera bella sequi_.[121]
+You that be wise, and ever mean to thrive,
+O, study not these toys we sluggards use,
+But follow arms, and wait on barbarous wars.
+Young men, young boys, beware of schoolmasters;
+They will infect you, mar you, blear your eyes:
+They seek to lay the curse of God on you,
+Namely, confusion of languages,
+Wherewith those that the Tower of Babel built
+Accursed were in the world's infancy.
+Latin, it was the speech of infidels;
+Logic hath nought to say in a true cause;
+Philosophy is curiosity;
+And Socrates was therefore put to death,
+Only for he was a philosopher.
+Abhor, contemn, despise these damned snares.
+
+WILL SUM. Out upon it! who would be a scholar? not I, I promise you: my
+mind always gave me this learning was such a filthy thing, which made me
+hate it so as I did. When I should have been at school construing,
+_Batte, mi fili, mi fili, mi Batte_, I was close under a hedge, or under
+a barn-wall, playing at span-counter or jack-in-a-box. My master beat
+me, my father beat me, my mother gave me bread and butter, yet all this
+would not make me a squitter-book.[122] It was my destiny; I thank her
+as a most courteous goddess, that she hath not cast me away upon
+gibridge. O, in what a mighty vein am I now against horn-books! Here,
+before all this company, I profess myself an open enemy to ink and
+paper. I'll make it good upon the accidence, body [of me,] that in
+speech is the devil's paternoster. Nouns and pronouns, I pronounce you
+as traitors to boys' buttocks; syntaxis and prosodia, you are tormentors
+of wit, and good for nothing, but to get a schoolmaster twopence a-week.
+Hang, copies! Fly out, phrase-books! let pens be turn'd to pick-tooths!
+Bowls, cards, and dice, you are the true liberal sciences! I'll ne'er be
+a goosequill, gentlemen, while I live.
+
+SUM. Winter, with patience unto my grief
+I have attended thy invective tale.
+So much untruth wit never shadowed:
+'Gainst her own bowels thou art's weapons turn'st.
+Let none believe thee that will ever thrive.
+Words have their course, the wind blows where it lists,
+He errs alone in error that persists.
+For thou 'gainst Autumn such exceptions tak'st,
+I grant his overseer thou shalt be,
+His treasurer, protector, and his staff;
+He shall do nothing without thy consent:
+Provide thou for his weal and his content.
+
+WIN. Thanks, gracious lord; so I'll dispose of him,
+As it shall not repent you of your gift.
+
+AUT. On such conditions no crown will I take.
+I challenge Winter for my enemy;
+A most insatiate, miserable carl,
+That to fill up his garners to the brim
+Cares not how he endamageth the earth,
+What poverty he makes it to endure!
+He overbars the crystal streams with ice,
+That none but he and his may drink of them:
+All for a foul Backwinter he lays up.
+Hard craggy ways, and uncouth slippery paths
+He frames, that passengers may slide and fall.
+Who quaketh not, that heareth but his name?
+O, but two sons he hath worse than himself:
+Christmas the one, a pinchback, cutthroat churl,
+That keeps no open house, as he should do,
+Delighteth in no game or fellowship,
+Loves no good deeds, and hateth talk;
+But sitteth in a corner turning crabs,
+Or coughing o'er a warmed pot of ale.
+Backwinter th'other, that's his nown[123] sweet boy,
+Who like his father taketh in all points.
+An elf it is, compact of envious pride,
+A miscreant born for a plague to men;
+A monster that devoureth all he meets.
+Were but his father dead, so he would reign,
+Yea, he would go good-near to deal by him
+As Nebuchadnezzar's ungracious son,
+Foul Merodach[124], by his father dealt:
+Who when his sire was turned to an ox
+Full greedily snatch'd up his sovereignty,
+And thought himself a king without control.
+So it fell out, seven years expir'd and gone,
+Nebuchadnezzar came to his shape again,
+And dispossess'd him of the regiment;[125]
+Which my young prince, no little grieving at,
+When that his father shortly after died,
+Fearing lest he should come from death again,
+As he came from an ox to be a man,
+Will'd that his body, 'spoiled of coverture,
+Should be cast forth into the open fields,
+For birds and ravens to devour at will;
+Thinking, if they bare, every one of them,
+A bill-ful of his flesh into their nests,
+He could not rise to trouble him in haste.
+
+WILL SUM. A virtuous son! and I'll lay my life on't he was a cavalier
+and a good fellow.[126]
+
+WIN. Pleaseth your honour, all he says is false.
+For my own part, I love good husbandry,
+But hate dishonourable covetise.
+Youth ne'er aspires to virtue's perfect growth,
+Till the wild oats be sown; and so the earth,
+Until his weeds be rotted by my frosts
+Is not for any seed or tillage fit.
+He must be purged that hath surfeited:
+The fields have surfeited with summer fruits;
+They must be purg'd, made poor, oppress'd with snow,
+Ere they recover their decayed pride.
+For overbarring of the streams with ice,
+Who locks not poison from his children's taste?
+When Winter reigns, the water is so cold,
+That it is poison, present death, to those
+That wash or bathe their limbs in his cold streams.
+The slipp'rier that ways are under us,
+The better it makes us to heed our steps,
+And look, ere we presume too rashly on.
+If that my sons have misbehav'd themselves,
+A God's name, let them answer't 'fore my lord.
+
+AUT. Now, I beseech your honour it may be so.
+
+SUM. With all my heart. Vertumnus, go for them.
+
+WILL SUM. This same Harry Baker[127] is such a necessary fellow to go on
+errands as you shall not find in a country. It is pity but he should
+have another silver arrow, if it be but for crossing the stage with his
+cap on.
+
+SUM. To weary out the time, until they come,
+Sing me some doleful ditty to the lute,
+That may complain my near-approaching death.
+
+_The Song.
+
+Adieu, farewell, earth's bliss;
+This world uncertain is.
+Fond are life's lustful joys,
+Death proves them all but toys.
+None from his darts can fly:
+I am sick, I must die.
+         Lord, have mercy on us!
+
+Rich men, trust not in wealth;
+Gold cannot buy you health.
+Physic himself must fade:
+All things to end are made.
+The plague full swift goes by.
+I am sick, I must die.
+         Lord, have mercy on us!
+
+Beauty is but a flower,
+Which wrinkles will devour:
+Brightness falls from the air;
+Queens have died young and fair.
+Dust hath clos'd Helen's eye.
+I am sick, I must die.
+         Lord, have mercy on us!
+
+Strength stoops into the grave:
+Worms feed on Hector brave.
+Swords may not fight with fate:
+Earth still holds ope her gate.
+Come, come, the hells do cry.
+I am sick, I must die.
+         Lord, have mercy on us!
+
+Wit with his wantonness
+Tasteth death's bitterness.
+Hell's executioner
+Hath no ears to hear,
+What vain art can reply.
+I am sick, I must die.
+         Lord, have mercy on us!
+
+Haste therefore each degree
+To welcome destiny:
+Heaven is our heritage,
+Earth but a player's stage.
+Mount we unto the sky.
+I am sick, I must die.
+         Lord, have mercy on us_!
+
+SUM. Beshrew me, but thy song hath moved me.
+
+WILL SUM. "Lord, have mercy on us," how lamentable 'tis!
+
+    _Enter_ VERTUMNUS, _with_ CHRISTMAS _and_ BACKWINTER.
+
+VER. I have despatched, my lord; I have brought you them you sent me for.
+
+WILL SUM. What say'st thou? hast thou made a good batch? I pray thee,
+give me a new loaf![128]
+
+SUM. Christmas, how chance thou com'st not as the rest,
+Accompanied with some music or some song?
+A merry carol would have grac'd thee well:
+Thy ancestors have us'd it heretofore.
+
+CHRIST. Ay, antiquity was the mother of ignorance: this latter world,
+that sees but with her spectacles, hath spied a pad in those sports
+more than they could.
+
+SUM. What, is't against thy conscience for to sing?
+
+CHRIST. No, not to say, by my troth, if I may get a good bargain.
+
+SUM. Why, thou should'st spend, thou should'st not care to get:
+Christmas is god of hospitality.
+
+CHRIST. So will he never be of good husbandry. I may say to you, there
+is many an old god that is now grown out of fashion; so is the god of
+hospitality.
+
+SUM. What reason canst thou give he should be left?
+
+CHRIST. No other reason, but that gluttony is a sin, and too many
+dunghills are infectious. A man's belly was not made for a powdering
+beef-tub; to feed the poor twelve days, and let them starve all the year
+after, would but stretch out the guts wider than they should be, and so
+make famine a bigger den in their bellies than he had before. I should
+kill an ox, and have some such fellow as Milo to come and eat it up at a
+mouthful; or, like the Sybarites,[129] do nothing all one year but bid
+guests against the next year. The scraping of trenchers you think would
+put a man to no charges: it is not a hundred pound a year would serve
+the scullion in dishclouts. My house stands upon vaults; it will fall,
+if it be overladen with a multitude. Besides, have you never read of a
+city that was undermined and destroyed by moles? So, say I, keep
+hospitality and a whole fair of beggars bid me to dinner every day. What
+with making legs[130], when they thank me at their going away, and
+settling their wallets handsomely on their backs, they would shake as
+many lice on the ground as were able to undermine my house, and undo me
+utterly. Is it their prayers would build it again, if it were overthrown
+by this vermin, would it? I pray, who began feasting and gormandis[ing]
+first, but Sardanapalus, Nero, Heliogabalus, Commodus? tyrants,
+whoremasters, unthrifts. Some call them emperors, but I respect no
+crowns but crowns in the purse. Any man may wear a silver crown that
+hath made a fray in Smithfield, and lost but a piece of his brain-pan;
+and to tell you plain, your golden crowns are little better in
+substance, and many times got after the same sort.
+
+SUM. Gross-headed sot! how light he makes of state!
+
+AUT. Who treadeth not on stars, when they are fall'n?
+Who talketh not of states, when they are dead?
+A fool conceits no further than he sees,
+He hath no sense of aught but what he feels.
+
+CHRIST. Ay, ay; such wise men as you come to beg at such fools' doors
+as we be.
+
+AUT. Thou shutt'st thy door; how should we beg of thee?
+No alms but thy sink carries from thy house.
+
+WILL SUM. And I can tell you that's as plentiful alms for the plague as
+the Sheriff's tub to them of Newgate.
+
+AUT. For feast thou keepest none; cankers thou feed'st.
+The worms will curse thy flesh another day,
+Because it yieldeth them no fatter prey.
+
+CHRIST. What worms do another day, I care not, but I'll be sworn upon a
+whole kilderkin of single beer, I will not have a worm-eaten nose, like
+a pursuivant, while I live. Feasts are but puffing up of the flesh, the
+purveyors for diseases; travel, cost, time, ill-spent. O, it were a trim
+thing to send, as the Romans did, round about the world for provision
+for one banquet. I must rig ships to Samos for peacocks; to Paphos for
+pigeons; to Austria for oysters; to Phasis for pheasants; to Arabia for
+phoenixes; to Meander for swans; to the Orcades for geese; to Phrygia
+for woodcocks; to Malta for cranes; to the Isle of Man for puffins; to
+Ambracia for goats; to Tartole for lampreys; to Egypt for dates; to
+Spain for chestnuts--and all for one feast.
+
+WILL SUM. O sir, you need not: you may buy them at London better cheap.
+
+CHRIST. _Liberalitas liberalitate perit_; Love me little, and love me
+long[131]: our feet must have wherewithal to feed the stones: our backs,
+walls of wool to keep out the cold that besiegeth our warm blood; our
+doors must have bars, our doublets must have buttons. Item, for an old
+sword to scrape the stones before the door with; three halfpence for
+stitching a wooden tankard that was burst. These water-bearers will
+empty the conduit and a man's coffers at once. Not a porter that brings
+a man a letter but will have his penny. I am afraid to keep past one or
+two servants, lest (hungry knaves) they should rob me; and those I keep
+(I warrant) I do not pamper up too lusty. I keep them under with red
+herring and poor John all the year long. I have dammed up all my
+chimneys for fear (though I burn nothing but small coal) my house should
+be set on fire with the smoke. I will not dine[132] but once in a dozen
+year, when there is a great rot of sheep, and I know not what to do with
+them; I keep open house for all the beggars in some of my out-yards:
+marry, they must bring bread with them; I am no baker.
+
+WILL SUM. As good men as you, and have thought it no scorn to serve
+their 'prenticeships on the pillory.
+
+SUM. Winter, is this thy son? Hear'st how he talks?
+
+WIN. I am his father, therefore may not speak,
+But otherwise I could excuse his fault.
+
+SUM. Christmas, I tell thee plain, thou art a snudge[133],
+And were't not that we love thy father well,
+Thou shouldst have felt what 'longs to avarice.
+It is the honour of nobility
+To keep high-days and solemn festivals;
+Then to set their magnificence to view,
+To frolic open with their favourites,
+And use their neighbours with all courtesy;
+When thou in hugger-mugger[134] spend'st thy wealth.
+Amend thy manners, breathe thy rusty gold;
+Bounty will win thee love, when thou art old.
+
+WILL SUM. Ay, that bounty I would fain meet, to borrow money of; he is
+fairly bless'd now-a-days, that 'scapes blows when he begs. _Verba dandi
+et reddendi_ go together in the grammar rule: there is no giving but
+with condition of restoring.
+Ah! _benedicite_:
+Well is he hath no necessity
+Of gold nor of sustenance:
+Slow good hap comes by chance;
+Flattery best fares;
+Arts are but idle wares:
+Fair words want giving hands,
+The _Lento_[135] begs that hath no lands.
+Fie on thee, thou scurvy knave,
+That hast nought, and yet goes brave:
+A prison be thy deathbed,
+Or be hang'd all save the head.
+
+SUM. Back-winter, stand forth.
+
+VER. Stand forth, stand forth: hold up your head; speak out.
+
+BACK-WIN. What should I stand, or whither should I go?
+
+SUM. Autumn accuses thee of sundry crimes,
+Which here thou art to clear or to confess.
+
+BACK-WIN. With thee or Autumn have I nought to do,
+I would you both were hanged, face to face.
+
+SUM. Is this the reverence that thou ow'st to us?
+
+BACK-WIN. Why not? What art thou? shalt thou always live?
+
+AUT. It is the veriest dog in Christendom.
+
+WIN. That's for he barks at such as knave as thou.
+
+BACK-WIN. Would I could bark the sun out of the sky;
+Turn moon and stars to frozen meteors,
+And make the ocean a dry land of ice!
+With tempest of my breath turn up high trees,
+On mountains heap up second mounts of snow
+Which, melted into water, might fall down,
+As fell the deluge on the former world!
+I hate the air, the fire, the spring, the year,
+And whatsoe'er brings mankind any good.
+O that my looks were lightning to blast fruits!
+Would I with thunder presently might die,
+So I might speak in thunder to slay men.
+Earth, if I cannot injure thee enough,
+I'll bite thee with my teeth, I'll scratch thee thus:
+I'll beat down the partition with my heels,
+That, as a mud-vault, severs hell and thee.
+Spirits, come up! 'tis I that knock for you;
+One that envies[136] the world far more than you.
+Come up in millions! millions are too few
+To execute the malice I intend.
+
+SUM. _O scelus inauditum, O vox damnatorum_!
+Not raging Hecuba, whose hollow eyes
+Gave suck to fifty sorrows at one time,
+That midwife to so many murders was,
+Us'd half the execrations that thou dost.
+
+BACK-WIN. More I will use, if more I may prevail.
+Back-winter comes but seldom forth abroad,
+But when he comes, he pincheth to the proof.
+Winter is mild, his son is rough and stern:
+Ovid could well write of my tyranny,
+When he was banish'd to the frozen zone.
+
+SUM. And banish'd be thou from my fertile bounds.
+Winter, imprison him in thy dark cell,
+Or with the winds in bellowing caves of brass
+Let stern Hippotades[137] lock him up safe,
+Ne'er to peep forth, but when thou, faint and weak,
+Want'st him to aid thee in thy regiment.
+
+BACK-WIN. I will peep forth, thy kingdom to supplant.
+My father I will quickly freeze to death,
+And then sole monarch will I sit, and think,
+How I may banish thee as thou dost me.
+
+WIN. I see my downfall written in his brows.
+Convey him hence to his assigned hell!
+Fathers are given to love their sons too well.
+
+                          [_Exit_ BACK-WINTER.
+
+WILL SUM. No, by my troth, nor mothers neither: I am sure I could never
+find it. This Back-winter plays a railing part to no purpose: my small
+learning finds no reason for it, except as a back-winter or an
+after-winter is more raging, tempestuous, and violent than the beginning
+of winter; so he brings him in stamping and raging as if he were mad,
+when his father is a jolly, mild, quiet old man, and stands still and
+does nothing. The court accepts of your meaning. You might have written
+in the margin of your play-book--"Let there be a few rushes laid[138]
+in the place where Back-winter shall tumble, for fear of 'raying[139]
+his clothes:" or set down, "Enter Back-winter, with his boy bringing a
+brush after him, to take off the dust, if need require." But you will
+ne'er have any wardrobe-wit while you live: I pray you, hold the book
+well;[140] [that] we be not _non plus_ in the latter end of the play.
+
+SUM. This is the last stroke my tongue's clock must strike.
+My last will, which I will that you perform.
+My crown I have dispos'd already of.
+Item, I give my wither'd flowers and herbs
+Unto dead corses, for to deck them with.
+My shady walks to great men's servitors,
+Who in their masters' shadows walk secure.
+My pleasant open air and fragrant smells
+To Croydon and the grounds abutting round.
+My heat and warmth to toiling labourers,
+My long days to bondmen and prisoners,
+My short night[s] to young [un]married souls.
+My drought and thirst to drunkards' quenchless throats:
+My fruits to Autumn, my adopted heir:
+My murmuring springs, musicians of sweet sleep,
+To malcontents [who], with their well-tun'd ears,[141]
+Channell'd in a sweet falling quatorzain,
+Do lull their cares[142] asleep, listening themselves.
+And finally, O words, now cleanse your course
+Unto Eliza, that most sacred dame,
+Whom none but saints and angels ought to name,
+All my fair days remaining I bequeath
+To wait upon her, till she be return'd.
+Autumn, I charge thee, when that I am dead,
+Be prest[143] and serviceable at her beck,
+Present her with thy goodliest ripen'd fruits;
+Unclothe no arbours, where she ever sat,
+Touch not a tree thou think'st she may pass by.
+And, Winter, with thy writhen, frosty face,
+Smooth up thy visage, when thou look'st on her;
+Thou never look'st on such bright majesty.
+A charmed circle draw about her court,
+Wherein warm days may dance, and no cold come:
+On seas let winds make war, not vex her rest;
+Quiet enclose her bed, thought fly her breast.
+Ah, gracious queen! though summer pine away,
+Yet let thy flourishing stand at a stay.
+First droop this universal's aged frame,
+Ere any malady thy strength should tame.
+Heaven raise up pillars to uphold thy hand,
+Peace may have still his temple in thy land.
+Lo! I have said; this is the total sum.
+Autumn and Winter, on your faithfulness
+For the performance I do firmly build.
+Farewell, my friends: Summer bids you farewell!
+Archers and bowlers, all my followers,
+Adieu, and dwell with desolation:
+Silence must be your master's mansion.
+Slow marching, thus descend I to the fiends.
+Weep, heavens!--mourn, earth! here Summer ends.
+
+    [_Here the Satyrs and wood-nymphs carry
+    him out, singing as he came in.
+
+The Song.
+
+Autumn hath all the summer's fruitful treasure;
+Gone is our sport, fled is poor Croydon's pleasure!
+Short days, sharp days, long nights come on apace:
+Ah! who shall hide us from the winter's face?
+Cold doth increase, the sickness will not cease,
+And here we lie, God knows, with little ease.
+  From winter, plague, and pestilence, good Lord, deliver us!
+
+London doth mourn, Lambeth is quite forlorn;
+Trades cry, woe worth that ever they were born!
+The want of term is town and city's harm.[144]
+Close chambers we do want to keep us warm.
+Long banished must we live from our friends:
+This low-built house will bring us to our ends.
+  From winter, plague, and pestilence, good Lord, deliver us_!
+
+WILL SUM. How is't, how is't? you that be of the graver sort, do you
+think these youths worthy of a _plaudite_ for praying for the queen, and
+singing the litany? They are poor fellows, I must needs say, and have
+bestowed great labour in sewing leaves, and grass, and straw, and moss
+upon cast suits. You may do well to warm your hands with clapping before
+you go to bed, and send them to the tavern with merry hearts.
+
+    _Enter a little_ BOY _with an Epilogue_.
+
+Here is a pretty boy comes with an Epilogue to get him audacity. I pray
+you, sit still a little and hear him say his lesson without book. It is
+a good boy: be not afraid: turn thy face to my lord. Thou and I will
+play at pouch to-morrow morning for breakfast. Come and sit on my knee,
+and I'll dance thee, if thou canst not endure to stand.
+
+
+THE EPILOGUE.
+
+Ulysses, a dwarf, and the prolocutor for the Grecians, gave me leave,
+that am a pigmy, to do an embassage to you from the cranes. Gentlemen
+(for kings are no better), certain humble animals, called our actors,
+commend them unto you; who, what offence they have committed I know not
+(except it be in purloining some hours out of Time's treasury, that
+might have been better employed) but by me (the agent of their
+imperfections) they humbly crave pardon, if haply some of their terms
+have trod awry, or their tongues stumbled unwittingly on any man's
+content. In much corn is some cockle; in a heap of coin here and there a
+piece of copper: wit hath his dregs as well as wine; words their waste,
+ink his blots, every speech his parenthesis; poetical fury, as well
+crabs as sweetings for his summer fruits. _Nemo sapit omnibus horis_.
+Their folly is deceased; their fear is yet living. Nothing can kill an
+ass but cold: cold entertainment, discouraging scoffs, authorised
+disgraces, may kill a whole litter of young asses of them here at once,
+that hath travelled thus far in impudence, only in hope to sit a-sunning
+in your smiles. The Romans dedicated a temple to the fever quartan,
+thinking it some great god, because it shook them so; and another to
+ill-fortune in Esquiliis, a mountain in Rome, that it should not plague
+them at cards and dice. Your grace's frowns are to them shaking fevers;
+your least disfavours the greatest ill-fortune that may betide them.
+They can build no temples but themselves and their best endeavours, with
+all prostrate reverence, they here dedicate and offer up wholly to your
+service. _Sis bonus, O, faelixque tuis_.[145] To make the gods merry,
+the celestial clown Vulcan tuned his polt foot to the measures of
+Apollo's lute, and danced a limping galliard in Jove's starry hall: to
+make you merry, that are gods of art and guides unto heaven, a number of
+rude Vulcans, unwieldy speakers, hammer-headed clowns (for so it
+pleaseth them in modesty to name themselves) have set their deformities
+to view, as it were in a dance here before you. Bear with their wants;
+lull melancholy asleep with their absurdities, and expect hereafter
+better fruits of their industry. Little creatures often terrify great
+beasts: the elephant flieth from a ram: the lion from a cock and from
+fire; the crocodile from all sea-fish; the whale from the noise of
+parched bones. Light toys chase great cares: the great fool _Toy_ hath
+marr'd the play. Good night, gentlemen; I go.
+
+                                    [_Let him be carried away_.[146]
+
+WILL SUM. Is't true, jackanapes? do you serve me so? As sure as this
+coat is too short for me, all the points of your hose for this are
+condemned to my pocket, if you and I e'er play at span-counter more.
+_Valete, spectatores_: pay for this sport with a _plaudite_, and the
+next time the wind blows from this corner, we will make you ten times
+as merry.
+
+_Barbarus hic ego sum, quia non intelligor ulli_.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE DOWNFALL OF ROBERT EARL OF HUNTINGTON.
+
+
+
+
+_EDITION_.
+
+
+_The Downfall of Robert Earle of Huntington, afterward called Robin Hood
+of merrie Sherwodde; with his love to chaste Matilda, the Lord
+Fitzwaters Daughter, afterwarde his faire Maide Marian. Acted by the
+Right Honourable the Earle of Notingham, Lord high Admirall of England,
+his servants. Imprinted at London for William Leake_. 1601. 4to. B.L.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+"The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington" and "The Death of Robert
+Earl of Huntington"[147] were both formerly ascribed to Thomas Heywood,
+on the always disputable authority of Kirkman the Bookseller. The
+discovery of the folio account-book of Philip Henslowe, proprietor of
+the Rose theatre on the Bank-side, enabled Malone to correct the
+error.[148] The following entries in Henslowe's MSS. contain the
+evidence upon the subject:--
+
+  "Feb. 1597-8.--The first part of Robin Hood by Anthony Mundy.
+
+  "The second part of the Downfall of Earl Huntington, sirnamed
+  Robinhood by Anthony Mundy and Henry Chettle."
+
+It is to be observed that what Henslowe mentions as "the second part of
+the Downfall of Earl Huntington" is in fact the play called on the
+printed title-page "The Death of Robert Earl of Huntington." Hence we
+find that Anthony Munday wrote the _first part_ or "Downfall" alone, and
+the _second part_ or "Death" in conjunction with Henry Chettle:
+nevertheless there is a memorandum by Henslowe, by which it seems that
+Chettle had something to do also with the _first part_. It is in these
+terms:--
+
+  "Lent unto Robarte Shawe the 18 of Novemb. 1598, to lend unto
+  Mr Cheattle upon the mending of The First Part of Robart Hoode,
+  the sum of xs."
+
+The loan here mentioned was perhaps in anticipation of "the mending;"
+and Malone subsequently met with the following notice: "For mending
+of Robin Hood for the Corte;" which might be written after the
+improvements, considered necessary before the performance of the play
+at Court, had been completed.
+
+Anthony Munday must have been born in 1553, for the monument to him in
+the Church of St Stephen, Coleman Street, states, that at the time of
+his death, 10th August 1633, he was eighty years old. From the
+inscription we likewise learn that he was "a citizen and draper." In
+1589 he lived in the city, and dates his translation of "The History of
+Palmendos" "from my house in Cripplegate." That he carried on the
+business of a draper, or had some connection with the trade as late as
+1613, may be gathered from the following passage at the close of "The
+Triumphs of Truth," the city pageant for that year, by Thomas Middleton:
+"The fire-work being made by Maister Humphrey Nichols, a man excellent
+in his art; and the whole work and body of the Triumph, with all the
+proper beauties of the workmanship, most artfully and faithfully
+performed by John Grinkin; and those _furnished with apparel_ and
+porters by Anthony Munday, Gentleman." The style of "gentleman" was
+probably given to him with reference to the productions of his pen.
+
+At what date he acquired the title of "poet to the city" does not
+appear: he wrote the Lord Mayor's Pageant in 1605; but he had certainly
+earlier been similarly employed, as Ben Jonson introduces him in that
+capacity in "The Case is Altered," which was written in the end of 1598
+or beginning of 1599.[149] He there throws some ridicule upon Don
+Antonio Balladino (as he calls Munday), and Mr Gifford was of opinion
+that Middleton meant to censure him in his "Triumphs of Truth," as the
+impudent "common writer" of city pageants; but this is hardly consistent
+with the mention Middleton introduces of Munday at the close of that
+performance. Besides, Dekker wrote the pageant for the year 1612,
+immediately preceding that for which Middleton was engaged; and that
+Munday was not in disrepute is obvious from the fact that in 1614, 1615,
+and 1616, his pen was again in request for the same purpose.
+
+Whatever might have been Munday's previous life, in the year 1582 he was
+placed in no very enviable situation. He had been mainly instrumental in
+detecting the Popish Conspiracy in that year, which drew down upon him
+the bitter animosity of the Jesuits. They charged him in their
+publications (from which extracts may be seen in Mr A. Chalmers'
+"Biographical Dictionary," and elsewhere) with having been "first a
+stage-player and afterwards an apprentice," and after being "hissed from
+the stage" and residing at Rome, with having returned to his original
+occupation. Munday himself admits, in the account he published of Edmund
+Campion and his confederates, that he was "some time the Pope's scholar
+in the Seminary of Rome," but always stoutly denied that he was a Roman
+Catholic. Perhaps the most curious tract upon this subject is that
+entitled, "A breefe and true reporte of the Execution of certaine
+Traytours at Tiborne the xxviii, and xxx dayes of May 1582. Gathered
+by A.M. who was there present." He signs the Dedication at length
+"A. Munday," and mentions that he had been a witness against some of
+the offenders. The persons he saw executed were, Thomas Foord, John
+Shert, Robert Johnson, William Filbie, Luke Kirbie, Lawrance Richardson,
+and Thomas Cottom; and he seems to have been publicly employed to
+confute them at the foot of the gallows, and to convince the populace
+that they were traitors and Papists, denying the supremacy of Queen
+Elizabeth. He there had a long dispute with Kirbie upon matters of fact,
+and, according to his own showing, was guilty while abroad, at least of
+a little duplicity. He notices having seen Captain Stukely at Rome, who
+was killed at the Battle of Alcazar in 1578. In the conclusion he
+promises his "English Romaine Lyfe" "so soon as it can be printed," in
+which he purposes to disclose the "Romish and Sathanical juglings," of
+the Jesuits.
+
+Munday was a very voluminous author in verse and prose, original and
+translated, and is certainly to be reckoned among the predecessors of
+Shakespeare in dramatic composition. His earliest work, as far as can
+be now ascertained, was "The Mirror of Mutability," 1579, when he was
+in his 26th year: he dedicates it to the Earl of Oxford, and perhaps
+then belonged to the company of players of that nobleman, to which he
+had again attached himself on his return from Italy.[150] The Council
+Registers show that this nobleman had a company of players under his
+protection in 1575. Munday's "Banquet of Dainty Conceits" was printed
+in 1588, and we particularise it, because it was unknown to Ames,
+Herbert, and Ritson. Catalogues and specimens of his other undramatic
+works may be found in "Bibliographia Poetica," "Censura Literaria,"
+"British Bibliographer,"[151] &c. The earliest praise of Munday is
+contained in Webbe's "Discourse of English Poetrie," 1586, where his
+"Sweete Sobs of Sheepheardes and Nymphes" is especially pointed out
+as "very rare poetrie." Francis Meres, in 1598 ("Palladis Tamia,"
+fo. 283, b.), enumerating many of the best dramatic poets of his day,
+including Shakespeare, Heywood, Chapman, Porter, Lodge, &c., gives
+Anthony Munday the praise of being "our best plotter," a distinction
+that excited the spleen of Ben Jonson in his "Case is Altered," more
+particularly, as he was omitted.
+
+Nearly all the existing information respecting Anthony Munday's dramatic
+works is derived from Henslowe's papers.[152] At what period he began to
+write for the stage cannot be ascertained: the earliest date in these
+MSS. connected with his name is December 1597; but as he was perhaps a
+member of the Earl of Oxford's theatrical company before he went abroad,
+and as he was certainly at Rome prior to 1578, it is likely that he was
+very early the author of theatrical performances. In the old catalogues,
+and in Langbaine's "Momus Triumphans," 1688, a piece called "Fidele and
+Fortunatus" is mentioned, and such a play was entered at Stationers'
+Hall, Nov. 12, 1584. There is little doubt that this is the same
+production, two copies of which have been discovered, with the running
+title of "Two Italian Gentlemen," that being the second title to "Fidele
+and Fortunatus" in the Register. Both copies are without title-pages;
+but to one of them is prefixed a dedication signed A.M., and we may with
+tolerable certainty conclude that Anthony Munday was the author or
+translator of it, and that it was printed about the date of its entry on
+the Stationers' Books. It is pretty evident that the play now reprinted
+from the only known edition in 1601 was written considerably before
+1597-8, the year when it is first noticed in the accounts of the
+proprietor of the Rose. The story is treated with a simplicity bordering
+upon rudeness, and historical facts are perverted just as suited the
+purpose of the writer. Whether we consider it as contemporary with, or
+preceding the productions of the same class by Shakespeare, it is a
+relic of high interest, and nearly all the sylvan portions of the play,
+in which Robin Hood and his "merry men" are engaged, are of no ordinary
+beauty. Some of the serious scenes are also extremely well written, and
+the blank-verse, interpersed with rhymes, as was usual in our earlier
+dramas, by no means inharmonious.
+
+The subsequent catalogue of plays which Munday wrote, either alone or in
+conjunction with others, is derived from the materials supplied by
+Malone.
+
+1. Mother Redcap, by Anthony Munday and Michael Drayton. December 1597.
+Not printed.[153]
+
+2. The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington, by Anthony Munday.
+February 1597-8. Printed in 1601.
+
+3. The Death of Robert Earl of Huntington, by Anthony Munday and Henry
+Chettle. February 1597-8. Printed in 1601.
+
+4. The Funeral of Richard Cordelion, by Robert Wilson, Henry Chettle,
+Anthony Munday, and Michael Drayton. May 1598. Not printed.
+
+5. Valentine and Orson, by Richard Hathwaye and Anthony Munday. July
+1598. Not printed.
+
+6. Chance Medley, by Robert Wilson, Anthony Munday, Michael Drayton, and
+Thomas Dekker. August 1598. Not printed.
+
+7. Owen Tudor, by Michael Drayton, Richard Hathwaye, Anthony Munday, and
+Robert Wilson. January 1599-1600. Not printed.
+
+8. Fair Constance of Rome, by Anthony Munday, Richard Hathwaye, Michael
+Drayton, and Thomas Dekker. June 1600. Not printed.
+
+9. Fair Constance of Rome, Part II., by the same authors. June 1600.
+Not printed.
+
+10. The Rising of Cardinal Wolsey,[154] by Anthony Munday, Michael
+Drayton, Henry Chettle, and Wentworth Smith. November 12, 1601. Not
+printed.
+
+11. Two Harpies, by Thomas Dekker, Michael Drayton, Thomas Middleton,
+John Webster, and Anthony Munday. May 1602. Not printed.
+
+12. The Widow's Charm, by Anthony Munday. July 1602. Printed in 1607, as
+Malone conjectured, under the title of "The Puritan or Widow of Watling
+Street," and ascribed to Shakespeare.
+
+13. The Set at Tennis, by Anthony Munday. December 1602. Not
+printed.[155]
+
+14. The first part of the Life of Sir John Oldcastle, by Anthony Munday,
+Michael Drayton, Robert Wilson, and Richard Hathwaye.
+
+Of the last, two editions were published in 1600, the one with, and the
+other without, the name of Shakespeare on the title-page; but Mr Malone
+discovered, from the Registers of the Stationers' Company, that he was
+not concerned in it. Whether Munday wrote any plays subsequent to the
+date to which Henslowe's papers extend, is not known.
+
+Such particulars as have come down to us regarding Henry Chettle will be
+prefixed to "The Death of the Earl of Huntington," the second part of
+the play now reprinted.
+
+
+
+
+DRAMATIS PERSONAE.[156]
+
+
+SKELTON.
+SIR JOHN ELTHAM.
+KING RICHARD THE FIRST.
+PRINCE JOHN.
+ROBERT EARL OF HUNTINGTON.
+LITTLE JOHN.
+SCARLET.
+SCATHLOCK.
+FRIAR TUCK.
+MUCH, _the Clown_.
+LEICESTER.
+RICHMOND.
+SALISBURY.
+CHESTER.
+SENTLOE.
+FITZWATER.
+LACY.
+SIR HUGH LACY.
+SIR GILBERT BROUGHTON.
+BISHOP OF ELY.
+PRIOR OF YORK.
+JUSTICE WARMAN.
+WARMAN'S COUSIN.
+RALPH.
+_Jailor of Nottingham, Sheriff, Messenger, Boy, Colliers, &c_.
+QUEEN ELINOR.
+MATILDA, _Fitzwater's Daughter_.
+WARMAN'S WIFE.
+OLD WOMAN.
+
+
+
+
+THE DOWNFALL OF ROBERT EARL OF HUNTINGTON.
+
+
+
+ACT I, SCENE 1.
+
+
+    _Enter_ SIR JOHN ELTHAM, _and knocks at_ SKELTON'S _door_.[157]
+
+SIR JOHN. How, Master Skelton; what, at study hard?
+                                 [_Opens the door_.
+
+SKEL. Welcome and wish'd-for honest Sir John Eltham.
+I have sent twice, and either time he miss'd
+That went to seek you.
+
+ELT. So full well he might:
+These two hours it pleased his majesty
+To use my service in surveying maps,
+Sent over from the good King Ferdinand,
+That to the Indies, at Sebastian's suit,
+Hath lately sent a Spanish colony.
+
+SKEL. Then 'twill trouble you,
+After your great affairs, to take the pain
+That I intended to entreat you to,
+About rehearsal of our[158] promis'd play.
+
+ELT. Nay, Master Skelton; for the King himself,
+As we were parting, bid me take great heed
+We fail not of our day: therefore, I pray,
+Send for the rest, that now we may rehearse.
+
+SKEL. O, they are ready all, and dress'd to play.
+What part play you?
+
+ELT. Why, I play Little John,
+And came on purpose with this green suit.
+
+SKEL. Holla, my masters! Little John is come.
+
+    [_At every door all the players run out, some crying
+    "Where? where?" others, "Welcome, Sir John:" among
+    others the boys and Clown_.
+
+SKEL. Faith, little Tracy, you are somewhat forward:
+What, our Maid Marian leaping like a lad?
+If you remember, Robin is your love--
+Sir Thomas Mantle yonder--not Sir John.
+
+CLOWN. But, master, Sir John is my fellow, for I am
+Much the miller's son, am I not?
+
+SKEL. I know ye are, sir;
+And, gentlemen, since you are thus prepar'd,
+Go in, and bring your dumb-scene on the stage;
+And I, as prologue, purpose to express
+The ground whereon our history is laid.
+
+    [_Exeunt. Manent_ SKELTON _and_ SIR JOHN.
+
+    _Trumpets sound. Enter first_ KING RICHARD, _with drum
+    and ancient, giving_ ELY _a purse and sceptre; his mother,
+    and brother_ JOHN, CHESTER, LEICESTER, LACY, _others at
+    the_ KING'S _appointment doing reverence. The_ KING _goes
+    in: presently_ ELY _ascends the chair_: CHESTER, JOHN, _and
+    the_ QUEEN _part displeasantly. Enter_ EGBERT EARL OF
+    HUNTINGTON, _leading_ MARIAN: _follows him_ WARMAN, _and
+    after_ WARMAN _the_ PRIOR; WARMAN _ever flattering and making
+    courtesy, taking gifts of the_ PRIOR _behind and his master
+    before_. PRINCE JOHN _Enters, offereth to take_ MARIAN. QUEEN
+    ELINOR _enters, offering to pull_ ROBIN _from her; but they
+    enfold each other, and sit down within the curtains_. WARMAN
+    _with the_ PRIOR, SIR HUGH LACY, LORD SENTLOE, _and_ SIR GILBERT
+    BROUGHTON _fold hands, and drawing the curtains, all (but the_
+    PRIOR) _enter, and are kindly received by_ ROBIN HOOD.
+    _The curtains are again shut_.
+
+SKEL. Sir John, once more, bid your dumb shows come in,
+That, as they pass, I may explain them all.
+
+    _Enter_ KING RICHARD, _&c_.[159]
+
+Richard, call'd Coeur de Lion, takes his leave,
+Like the Lord's champion, 'gainst the pagan foes,
+That spoil Juda and rich Palestine.
+The rule of England and his princely seat
+He leaves with Ely, then lord chancellor;
+To whom the Mother Queen, her son, Prince John,
+Chester, and all the peers are sworn.
+               [_Exit_ RICHARD _cum militibus_.
+    ELY _ascends the chair_.
+Now reverend Ely, like the deputy
+Of God's great deputy, ascends the throne;
+Which the Queen Mother and ambitious John
+Repining at, raised many mutinies:
+And how they ended, you anon shall hear.
+
+                        [_Exeunt omnes_.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBERT EARL OF HUNTINGTON, _leading_ MARIAN, _&c_.[160]
+
+This youth that leads yon virgin by the hand
+(As doth the sun the morning richly clad)
+Is our Earl Robert or your Robin Hood,
+That in those days was Earl of Huntington.
+The ill-faced miser, bribed in either hand,
+Is Warman, once the steward of his house,
+Who, Judas-like, betrays his liberal lord
+Into the hands of that relentless Prior,
+Call'd Gilbert Hood, uncle to Huntington.
+Those two, that seek to part these lovely friends,
+Are Elinor the queen and John the prince:
+She loves Earl Robert, he Maid Marian;
+But vainly, for their dear affect is such,
+As only death can sunder their true loves.
+Long had they lov'd, and now it is agreed,
+This day they must be troth-plight, after wed.
+At Huntington's fair house a feast is held;
+But envy turns it to a house of tears;
+For those false guests, conspiring with the Prior,
+To whom Earl Robert greatly is in debt,
+Mean at the banquet to betray the earl
+Unto a heavy writ of outlawry.
+The manner and escape you all shall see.
+
+ELT. Which all, good Skelton?
+
+SKEL. Why, all these lookers on;
+Whom if we please, the king will sure be pleas'd.
+Look to your entrance; get you in, Sir John.    [_Exit_ SIR JOHN.
+My shift is long, for I play Friar Tuck;
+Wherein, if Skelton have but any luck,
+He'll thank his hearers oft with many a duck.
+For many talk of Robin Hood, that never shot in his bow,
+But Skelton writes of Robin Hood what he doth truly know.[161]
+
+    Therefore I pray ye,
+    Contentedly stay ye,
+    And take no offending,
+    But sit to the ending,
+    Likewise I desire
+    Ye would not admire
+    My rhyme, so I shift;
+    For this is my drift,
+    So mought I well thrive
+    To make ye all blithe:
+    But if ye once frown,
+    Poor Skelton goes down;
+    His labour and cost,
+    He thinketh all lost
+    In tumbling of books
+    Of marry-go-looks.
+    The Sheriff with staves,
+    With catchpoles and knaves,
+    Are coming, I see:
+    High time 'tis for me,
+    To leave off my babble
+    And fond ribble-rabble.
+    Therefore with this court'sy
+    Awhile I will leave ye.[162]
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    _Enter, as it were in haste, the_ PRIOR OF YORK, _the_
+    SHERIFF, _Justice_ WARMAN, _Steward to_ ROBIN HOOD.
+
+PRIOR. Here, Master Warman, there's a hundred crowns
+For your good-will and futherance in this.
+
+WAR. I thank you, my Lord Prior. I must away,
+To shun suspicion; but be resolute,
+And we will take him, have no doubt of it.
+
+PRIOR. But is Lord Sentloe and the other come?
+
+WAR. Lord Sentloe, Sir Hugh Lacy, and Sir Gilbert Broughton
+Are there, and as they promis'd you last night,
+Will help to take him, when the Sheriff comes.
+                                     [_Exit_ WARMAN.
+
+PRIOR. Awhile, farewell, and thanks to them and you.
+Come, Master Sheriff, the outlawry is proclaim'd,
+Send therefore quickly for more company,
+And at the back-gate we will enter in.
+
+SHER. We shall have much ado, I am afraid.
+
+PRIOR. No, they are very merry at a feast;
+A feast where Marian, daughter to Lord Lacy,
+Is troth-plighted to wasteful Huntington;
+And at the feast are my especial friends,
+Whom he suspects not. Come, we'll have him, man,
+And for your pains here is a hundred marks.
+
+SHER. I thank your lordship: we'll be diligent.
+
+                                     [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD, LITTLE JOHN _following him;
+    the one Earl of Huntington, the other his servant_,
+    ROBIN _having his napkin on his shoulder, as if he
+    were suddenly raised from dinner_.
+
+ROB. H. As I am outlaw'd from my fame and state,
+Be this day outlawed from the name of days.
+Day luckless, outlaw luckless, both accurs'd!
+    [_Flings away his napkin and hat, and sitteth down_.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Do not forget your honourable state,
+Nor the true noblesse of your worthy house.
+
+ROB. H. Do not persuade me; vain as vanity
+Are all thy comforts: I am comfortless.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Hear me, my lord.
+
+ROB. H. What shall I hear thee say?
+Already hast thou said too much to hear:
+Already hast thou stabb'd me with thy tongue,
+And the wide wound with words will not be clos'd.
+Am I not outlaw'd by the Prior of York?
+Proclaim'd in court, in city, and in town
+A lawless person? this thy tongue reports,
+And therefore seek not to make smooth my grief;
+For the rough storm thy windy words have rais'd,
+Will not be calm'd, till I in grave be laid.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Have patience yet.
+
+ROB. H. Yea, now indeed thou speakest.
+Patience hath power to bear a greater cross
+Than honour's spoil or any earthly loss.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Do so, my lord.
+
+ROB. H. Ay, now I would begin:
+But see, another scene of grief comes in.
+
+    _Enter_ MARIAN.[163]
+
+MAR. Why is my lord so sad? wherefore so soon,
+So suddenly, arose ye from the board?
+Alas, my Robin! what distempering grief
+Drinks up the roseate colour of thy cheeks?
+Why art thou silent? answer me, my love.
+
+ROB. H. Let him, let him, let him make thee as sad.
+He hath a tongue can banish thee from joy,
+And chase thy crimson colour from thy cheeks.
+Why speak'st thou not? I pray thee, Little John,
+Let the short story of my long distress
+Be utter'd in a word. What, mean'st thou to protract?
+Wilt thou not speak? then, Marian, list to me.
+This day thou wert a maid, and now a spouse,
+Anon, poor soul, a widow thou must be!
+Thy Robin is an outlaw, Marian;
+His goods and land must be extended on,
+Himself exil'd from thee, thou kept from him
+By the long distance of unnumbered miles.
+                         [_She sinks in his arms_.
+Faint'st thou at this? speak to me, Marian:
+My old love, newly met, part not so soon;
+We have a little time to tarry yet.
+
+MAR. If but a little time, let me not stay
+Part we to-day, then will I die to-day!
+
+LIT. JOHN. For shame, my lord! with courage of a man
+Bridle this over-grieving passion,
+Or else dissemble it to comfort her.
+
+ROB. H. I like thy counsel. Marian, clear these clouds,
+And with the sunny beams of thy bright eyes
+Drink up these mists of sorrow that arise.
+
+MAR. How can I joy, when thou art banished?
+
+ROB. H. I tell thee, love, my grief is counterfeit;
+And I abruptly from the table rose,
+The banquet being almost at an end,
+Only to drive confused and sad thoughts
+[Out of][164] the minds of the invited guests.
+For, gentle love, at great or nuptial feasts,
+With comic sports or tragic stately plays
+We use to recreate the feasted guests,
+Which I am sure our kinsfolk do expect.
+
+MAR. Of this, what then? this seems of no effect.
+
+ROB. H. Why, thus of this: as Little John can tell,
+I had bespoken quaint comedians;
+But great John, John the prince, my liege's brother--
+My rival, Marian, he that cross'd our love--
+Hath cross'd me in this jest,[165] and at the court
+Employs the players should have made us sport.
+This was the tidings brought by Little John,
+That first disturbed me, and begot this thought
+Of sudden rising, which by this, I know,
+Hath with amazement troubled all our guests.
+Go in, good love: thou as the chorus shalt
+Express the meaning of my silent grief,
+Which is no more but this: I only mean
+(The more to honour our right noble friends)
+Myself in person to present some scenes
+Of tragic matter, or perchance of mirth,
+Even such as first shall jump with my conceit.
+
+MAR. May I be bold thou hast the worst expressed?
+
+LIT. JOHN. Fair mistress, all is true my lord hath said.
+
+ROB. H. It is, it is.
+
+MAR. Speak not so hollow then:
+So sigh and sadly speak true-sorrowing men.
+
+ROB. H. Believe me, love, believe me (I beseech),
+My first scene tragic is, therefore tragic speech
+And accents filling woful action,
+I strive to get. I pray thee, sweet,
+Go in, and with thy sight appease
+The many doubts that may arise. That done,
+Be thou their usher, bring them to this place,
+And thou shalt see me with a lofty verse
+Bewitch the hearers' ears, and tempt their eyes
+To gaze upon the action that I use.
+
+MAR. If it be but a play, I'll play my part:
+But sure some earnest grief affrights thy[166] heart.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Let me entreat ye, madam, not to fear,
+For, by the honesty of Little John,
+It's but a tragic scene we have in hand,
+Only to fit the humour of the queen,
+Who is the chiefest at your troth-plight feast.
+
+MAR. Then will I fetch her highness and the rest.
+                                          [_Exit_.
+
+ROB. H. Ay, that same jealous queen, whose doting age
+Envies the choice of my fair Marian,
+She hath a hand in this.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Well, what of that?
+Now must your honour leave these mourning tunes,
+And thus by my areed you shall provide.
+Your plate and jewels I will straight pack up,
+And toward Nottingham convey them hence.
+At Rowford, Sowtham, Wortley, Hothersfield,
+Of all your cattle money shall be made;
+And I at Mansfield will attend your coming,
+Where we'll determine which way's best to take.
+
+ROB. H. Well, be it so; a' God's name, let it be;
+And, if I can, Marian shall come with me.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Else care will kill her. Therefore, if you please,
+At th'utmost corner of the garden wall,
+Soon in the evening wait for Marian;
+And as I go I'll tell her of the plan.[167]
+Your horses at the Bell shall ready be,
+I mean Belsavage;[168] whence as citizens,
+That mean[169] to ride for pleasure some small way,
+You shall set forth.
+
+ROB. H. Be it as thou dost say.
+Farewell awhile:
+In spite of grief, thy love compels me smile,
+But now our audience comes, we must look sad.[170]
+
+    _Enter_ QUEEN ELINOR, MARIAN, SENTLOE, LACY, BROUGHTON,
+    WARMAN, _Robin's steward. As they meet_, LITTLE JOHN
+    _whispers with_ MARIAN, _and exit_.
+
+QU. ELIN. How now, my Lord of Huntington?
+The mistress of your love, fair Marian,
+Tells us your sudden rising from the banquet
+Was but a humour which you mean to purge
+In some high tragic lines or comic jests.
+
+ROB. H. Sit down, fair queen (the prologue's part is play'd;
+Marian hath told ye, what I bad her tell):
+Sit down, Lord Sentloe, cousin Lacy, sit:
+Sir Gilbert Broughton, yea, and Warman, sit:
+Though you my steward be, yet for your gathering wit
+I give you place: sit down, sit down, I say:
+God's pity! sit: it must, it must be so,
+For you will sit when I shall stand, I know.    [_Sits them all down_.
+And, Marian, you may sit among the rest,
+I pray ye do, or else rise, stand apart:
+These helps shall be beholders of my smart--
+You that with ruthless eyes my sorrows see,
+And came prepar'd to feast at my sad fall,
+Whose envy, greediness, and jealousy
+Afford me sorrow endless, comfort small,
+Know what you knew before, what you ordain'd
+To cross the spousal banquet of my love,
+That I am outlaw'd by the Prior of York,
+My traitorous uncle and your toothless friend.
+Smile you, Queen Elinor? laugh'st thou, Lord Sentloe?
+Lacy, look'st thou so blithe at my lament?
+Broughton, a smooth brow graceth your stern face;
+And you are merry, Warman, at my moan.
+The Queen except, I do you all defy!
+You are a sort[171] of fawning sycophants,
+That, while the sunshine of my greatness 'dur'd,
+Revelled out all my day for your delights;
+And now ye see the black night of my woe
+O'ershade the beauty of my smiling good,
+You to my grief add grief; and are agreed
+With that false Prior to reprieve my joys
+From execution of all happiness.
+
+WAR. Your honour thinks not ill of me, I hope.
+
+ROB. H. Judas speaks first, with "Master, is it I?"
+No, my false steward; your accounts are true;
+You have dishonour'd me, I worshipp'd[172] you.
+You from a paltry pen-and-inkhorn clerk,
+Bearing a buckram-satchel at your belt,
+Unto a justice' place I did prefer;
+Where you unjustly have my tenants rack'd,
+Wasted my treasure, and increas'd your store.
+Your sire contented with a cottage poor,
+Your mastership hath halls and mansions built;
+Yet are you innocent, as clear from guilt
+As is the ravenous mastiff that hath spilt
+The blood of a whole flock, yet slyly comes
+And couches in his kennel with smear'd chaps.
+Out of my house! for yet my house it is,
+And follow him, ye catchpole-bribed grooms;
+For neither are ye lords nor gentlemen,
+That will be hired to wrong a nobleman:
+For hired ye were last night, I know it, I,
+To be my guests, my faithless guests this day,
+That your kind host you trothless might betray.
+But hence, and help the Sheriff at the door,
+Your worst attempt. Fell traitors, as you be,
+Avoid, or I will execute ye all
+Ere any execution come at me!    [_They run away_.
+They run[173] away, so ends the tragedy.
+(_Aside_) Marian, by Little John, my mind you know:
+If you will, do; if not, why be it so.
+                                 [_Offers to go in_.
+
+QU. ELIN. No words to me, Earl Robert, ere you go?
+
+ROB. H. O, to your highness? yes; adieu, proud queen;
+Had not you been, thus poor I had not been.
+                                             [_Exit_.
+
+QU. ELIN. Thou wrong'st me, Robert Earl of Huntington,
+And were it not for pity of this maid,
+I would revenge the words that thou hast said.
+
+MAR. Add not, fair queen, distress unto distress,
+But, if you can, for pity make his less.
+
+QU. ELIN. I can and will forget deserving hate,
+And give him comfort in this woful state.
+Marian, I know Earl Robert's whole desire
+Is to have thee with him from hence away;
+And though I lov'd him dearly to this day,
+Yet since I see he deadlier loveth thee,
+Thou shalt have all the furtherance I may.
+Tell me, fair girl, and see thou truly tell,
+Whether this night, to-morrow, or next day,
+There be no 'pointment for to meet thy love?
+
+MAR. There is, this night there is, I will not lie;
+And, be it disappointed, I shall die.
+
+QU. ELIN. Alas, poor soul! my son, Prince John, my son,
+With several troops hath circuited the court,
+This house, the city, that thou canst not 'scape.
+
+MAR. I will away with Death, though he be grim,
+If they deny me to go hence with him.
+
+QU. ELIN. Marian,
+Thou shalt go with him clad in my attire,
+And for a shift I'll put thy garments on.
+It is not me my son John doth desire,
+But, Marian, it is thee he doteth on.
+When thou and I are come into the field,
+Or any other place, where Robin stays,
+Me in thy clothes the ambush will beset;
+Thee in my robes they dare not once approach:
+So, while with me a-reasoning they stay,
+At pleasure thou with him may'st ride away.
+
+MAR. I am beholding to your majesty,
+And of this plot will send my Robin word.
+
+QU. ELIN. Nay, never trouble him, lest it breed suspect:
+But get thee in, and shift off thy attire:
+My robe is loose, and it will soon be off.
+Go, gentle Marian, I will follow thee,
+And from betrayers' hands will set thee free.
+
+MAR. I thank your highness, but I will not trust ye:
+My Robert shall have knowledge of this shift,
+For I conceive already your deep drift.
+                                     [_Aside. Exit_.
+
+QU. ELIN. Now shall I have my will of Huntington
+Who, taking me this night for Marian,
+Will hurry me away instead of her;
+For he dares not stand trifling to confer.
+Faith, pretty Marian, I shall meet with you,[174]
+And with your lovely sweetheart Robert too:
+For when we come unto a baiting-place,
+If with like love my love he do not grace,
+Of treason capital I will accuse him,
+For trait'rous forcing me out of the court,
+And guerdon his disdain with guilty death,
+That of a prince's love so lightly weighs.
+
+                                  [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT II., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ LITTLE JOHN _fighting with the_ SHERIFF _and
+    his men_; WARMAN _persuading him_.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Warman, stand off!
+Tit-tattle, tell not me what ye can do:
+The goods, I say, are mine, and I say true.
+
+WAR. I say the Sheriff must see them, ere they go.
+
+LIT. JOHN. You say so, Warman: Little John says no.
+
+SHER. I say I must, for I am the king's shrieve.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Your must is false; your office I believe.
+
+WATCH. Down with him! down with him!
+
+LIT. JOHN. Ye bark at me like curs, but I will down
+With twenty "Stand, and who goes there?"[175] of you,
+If ye stand long tempting my patience.
+Why, Master Sheriff, think you me a fool?
+What justice is there you should search my trunks,
+Or stay my goods for that my master owes?
+
+SHER. Here's Justice Warman, steward to your lord,
+Suspects some coin, some jewels, or some plate
+That 'longs unto your lord, are in your trunks,
+And the extent is out for all his goods;
+Therefore we ought to see none be convey'd.
+
+WAR. True, Little John; I am the sorrier.
+
+LIT. JOHN. A plague upon ye else, how sore ye weep!
+Why, say, thou upstart, that there were some help,
+Some little, little help in this distress,
+To aid our lord and master comfortless,
+Is it thy part, thou screen-fac'd snotty-nose,
+To hinder him that gave thee all thou hast?
+
+    _Enter_ JUSTICE WARMAN'S [_French_] WIFE _oddly attired_.
+
+WIFE. Who's that, husband? you, you! means he you?
+
+WAR. I, by'r Lady is it, I thank him.
+
+WIFE. Ah, ye knave you! God's pity, husband, why dis no your worship
+send the kneve to Newgate?
+
+LIT. JOHN. Well, Master Sheriff, shall I pass or no?
+
+SHER. Not without search.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Then here the casket stands:
+Any that dares unto it set their hands,
+Let him begin.
+
+WIFE. Do, hisband;
+You are a majesty: I warrant
+There's old knacks, chains, and other toys.
+
+LIT. JOHN. But not for you, good madam beetle-brows.
+
+WIFE. Out upon him! By my truly, Master Justice, and ye do not clap him
+up, I will sue a bill of remorse, and never come between a pair of
+sheets with ye. Such a kneve as this! down with him, I pray.
+
+                       [_Set upon him: he knocks some down_.
+
+WIFE. Ah, good Lord! come not near, good husband; only charge him,
+charge him! Ah, good God! help, help!
+
+    _Enter_ PRINCE JOHN, _the_ BISHOP OF ELY, _the_
+    PRIOR OF YORK, _with others. All stay_.
+
+JOHN. What tumult have we here? who doth resist
+The king's writs with such obstinate contempt?
+
+WIFE. This kneve.
+
+WAR. This rebel.
+
+JOHN. How now, Little John,
+Have you no more discretion than you show?
+
+ELY. Lay hold, and clap the traitor by the heels.
+
+LIT. JOHN. I am no traitor, my good Lord of Ely
+First hear me, then commit me, if you please.
+
+JOHN. Speak, and be brief.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Here is a little box,
+Containing all my gettings twenty year,
+Which is mine own, and no man's but mine own:
+This they would rifle, this I do defend,
+And about this we only do contend.
+
+JOHN. You do the fellow wrong: his goods are his.
+You only must extend upon the Earl's.
+
+PRIOR. That was, my lord, but now is Robert Hood;
+A simple yeoman, as his servants were.
+
+WIFE. Back with that leg, my Lord Prior: there be some that were his
+servants think foul scorn to be called yeomen.
+
+PRIOR. I cry your worship mercy, Mistress Warman:
+The squire, your husband, was his servant once.
+
+LIT. JOHN. A scurvy squire, with reverence of these lords.
+
+WIFE. Does he not speak treason, pray?
+
+ELY. Sirrah, ye are too saucy: get you hence.
+
+WAR. But hear me first, my lords, with patience.
+This scoffing, careless fellow, Little John,
+Hath loaden hence a horse 'twixt him and Much,
+A silly, rude knave--Much, the miller's son.
+
+    _Enter_ MUCH, _Clown_.
+
+MUCH. I am here to answer for myself, and have taken you in two lies at
+once: first, Much is no knave, neither was it a horse Little John and I
+loaded, but a little curtal of some five handfuls high, sib to the ape's
+only beast at Paris Garden.[176]
+
+LIT. JOHN. But, Master Warman, you have loaded carts,
+And turned my lord's goods to your proper use.
+Whoever hath the right, you do the wrong,
+And are--
+
+WIFE. What is he, kneve?
+
+LIT. JOHN. Unworthy to be nam'd a man.
+
+MUCH. And I'll be sworn for his wife.
+
+WIFE. Ay, so thou mayest, Much.
+
+MUCH. That she sets new marks of all my old lady's linen (God rest her
+soul!), and my young lord never had them since.
+
+WIFE. Out, out! I took him them but for to whiten, as God mend me.
+
+ELY. Leave off this idle talk; get ye both hence.
+
+LIT. JOHN. I thank your honours: we are not in love
+With being here.
+We must seek service that are masterless.
+
+                   [_Exeunt_ MUCH _and_ LITTLE JOHN.
+
+ELY. Lord Prior of York, here's your commission.
+You are best make speed, lest in his country houses,
+By his appointment, all his herds be sold.
+
+PRIOR. I thank your honour, taking humble leave.
+                                          [_Exit_.
+
+ELY. And, Master Warman, here's your patent sealed
+For the High Sheriffwick of Nottingham;
+Except the king our master do repeal
+This gift of ours.
+
+JOHN. Let him the while possess it.
+
+ELY. A God's name, let him; he hath my good will.
+                                             [_Exit_.
+
+JOHN. Well, Warman, this proud priest I cannot brook.
+But to our other matter: send thy wife away.
+
+WAR. Go in, good wife; the prince with me hath private conference.
+
+WIFE. By my troth, ye will anger me: now ye have the pattern, ye should
+call me nothing but Mistress Sheriff; for I tell you I stand upon my
+replications.    [_Exit_.
+
+JOHN. Thinkest thou that Marian means
+To 'scape this evening hence with Robin Hood?
+The horse-boy told me so; and here he comes,
+Disguised like a citizen, methinks.
+Warman, let's in; I'll fit him presently:
+Only for Marian am I now his enemy.
+
+                               [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN, _like a citizen_.
+
+ROB. H. Earl John[177] and Warman, two good friends of mine:
+I think they knew me not, or if they did
+I care not what can follow. I am sure
+The sharpest end is death, and that will come.
+But what of death or sorrow do I dream?
+My Marian, my fair life, my beauteous love
+Is coming, to give comfort to my grief,
+And the sly queen, intending to deceive,
+Hath taught us how we should her sleights receive.[178]
+But who is this? God's pity! here's Prince John.
+
+JOHN. Good even, sir.  This clear evening should portend
+Some frost, I think: how judge you, honest friend?
+
+ROB. H. I am not weather-wise; but it may be
+We shall have hard frost; for true charity,
+Good dealing, faithful friendship, honesty,
+Are chill-cold, dead with cold.
+
+JOHN. O good sir, stay,
+That frost hath lasted many a bitter day.
+Know ye no frozen hearts that are belov'd?
+
+ROB. H. Love is a flame, a fire, that being moved,
+Still brighter grows. But say, are you beloved?
+
+JOHN. I would be, if I be not: but pass that.
+Are ye a dweller in this city, pray?
+
+ROB. H. I am; and for a gentlewoman stay,
+That rides some four or five mile in great haste.
+
+    _Enter_ QUEEN _and_ MARIAN.[179]
+
+JOHN. I see your labour, sir, is not in waste,
+For here come two; are either of these yours?
+
+ROB. H. Both are--one most.[180]
+
+JOHN. Which do you most respect?
+
+ROB. H. The youngest and the fairest I reject.
+
+JOHN. Robin, I'll try you, whether ye say true.    [_Aside_.
+
+ROB. H. As you with me, so, John, I'll jest with you.    [_Aside_.
+
+QU. ELIN. Marian, let me go first to Robin Hood,
+And I will tell him what we do intend.
+
+MAR. Do what your highness please; your will is mine.
+
+JOHN. My mother is with gentle Marian:
+O, it doth grieve her to be left behind.
+
+QU. ELIN. Shall we away, my Robin, lest the queen
+Betray our purpose? sweet, let us away:
+I have great will to go, no heart to stay.
+
+ROB. H. Away with thee? No; get thee far away
+From me, foul Marian, fair though thou be nam'd;
+For thy bewitching eyes have raised storms,
+That have my name and noblesse ever sham'd;
+Prince John, my dear friend once, is now for thee
+Become an unrelenting enemy.
+
+JOHN. But I'll relent and love thee, if thou leave her.
+
+ROB. H. And Elinor my sovereign, mother-queen,[181]
+That yet retains true passion in her breast,
+Stands mourning yonder. Hence! I thee detest.
+I will submit me to her majesty.
+Great princess, if you will but ride with me
+A little of my way, I will express
+My folly past, and humble pardon beg.
+
+MAR. I grant, Earl Robert, and I thank thee too.
+
+QU. ELIN. She's not the queen; sweet Robin, it is I.
+
+ROB. H. Hence, sorceress! thy beauty I defy.
+If thou have any love at all to me,
+Bestow it on Prince John; he loveth thee.
+
+                         [_Exeunt_ ROBIN, MARIAN.
+
+JOHN. And I will love thee, Robin, for this deed,
+And help thee, too, in thy distressful need.
+
+QU. ELIN. Wilt thou not stay nor speak, proud Huntington?
+Ay me! some whirlwind hurries them away.
+
+JOHN. Follow him not, fair love, that from thee flies,
+But fly to him that gladly follows thee.
+Wilt thou not, girl? turn'st thou away from me?
+
+QU. ELIN. Nay, we shall have it then,
+If my quaint son his mother 'gin to court.    [_Aside_.
+
+JOHN. Wilt thou not speak, fair Marian, to Prince John,
+That loves thee well?
+
+QU. ELIN. Good sir, I know you do.
+
+JOHN. That can maintain thee.
+
+QU. ELIN. Ay, I know you can,
+But hitherto I have maintained you.
+
+JOHN. My princely mother!
+
+QU. ELIN. Ay, my princely son.
+
+JOHN. Is Marian then gone hence with Huntington?
+
+QU. ELIN. Ay, she is gone; ill may they either thrive.
+
+JOHN. Mother, they [needs] must go, whom the devil drives;
+For your sharp fury and infernal rage,
+Your scorn of me, your spite to Marian,
+Your overdoating love to Huntington,
+Hath cross'd yourself, and me it hath undone.
+
+QU. ELIN. I in mine own deceit have met deceit:
+In brief the manner thus I will repeat.
+I knew with malice that the Prior of York
+Pursued Earl Robert; and I furthered it,
+Though God can tell, for love of Huntington.
+For thus I thought: when he was in extremes,
+Need and my love would win some good regard
+From him to me, if I reliev'd his want.
+To this end came I to the mock spouse-feast;
+To this end made I change for Marian's weed,
+That me for her Earl Robert should receive:
+But now I see they both of them agreed,
+In my deceit I might myself deceive.
+Come in with me, come in, and meditate
+How to turn love to never-changing hate.
+                                        [_Exit_.
+
+JOHN. In by yourself; I pass not for your spells.
+Of youth and beauty still you are the foe:
+The curse of Rosamond rests on your head,
+Fair Rose confounded by your cank'rous hate,[182]
+O, that she were not as to me she is,
+A mother, whom by nature I must love,
+Then I would tell her she were too-too base
+To dote thus on a banish'd careless groom:
+Then should I tell her that she were too fond
+To trust[183] fair Marian to an exile's hand.
+
+    _Enter a_ MESSENGER _from_ ELY.
+
+MES. My lord, my Lord of Ely sends for you
+About important business of the state.
+
+JOHN. Tell the proud prelate I am not dispos'd
+Nor in estate to come at his command.
+                      [_Smites him; he bleeds_.
+Begone with that; or tarry, and take this!
+'Zwounds! are ye list'ning for an after-errand?
+                             [_Exit_ MESSENGER.
+I'll follow with revengeful, murd'rous hate
+The banish'd, beggar'd, bankrupt Huntington.
+
+    _Enter_ SIMON, _Earl of Leicester_.
+
+LEI. How now, Prince John? body of me! I muse
+What mad moods toss ye in this busy time
+To wound the messenger that Ely sent,
+By our consents? i'faith, ye did not well.
+
+JOHN. Leicester, I meant it, Ely, not his man:
+His servant's head but bleeds, he headless shall
+From all the issues of his traitor-neck
+Pour streams of blood, till he be bloodless left.
+By earth, it shall--by heaven, it shall be so!
+Leicester, it shall, though all the world say no.
+
+LEI. It shall, it shall! but how shall it be done?
+Not with a stormy tempest of sharp words,
+But slow, still speeches and effecting deeds.
+Here comes old Lacy and his brother Hugh!
+One is our friend, and the other is not true.
+
+    _Enter_ LORD LACY, SIR HUGH, _and his Boy_.
+
+LACY. Hence, treacher, as thou art! by God's bless'd mother!
+I'll lop thy legs off, though thou be my brother,
+If with thy flattering tongue thou seek to hide
+Thy traitorous purpose. Ah, poor Huntington!
+How in one hour have villains thee undone!
+
+HUGH. If you will not believe what I have sworn,
+Conceit your worst. My Lord of Ely knows
+That what I say is true.
+
+LACY. Still facest thou?
+Draw, boy, and quickly see that thou defend thee.
+
+LEI. Patience, Lord Lacy! get you gone, Sir Hugh;
+Provoke him not, for he hath told you true:
+You know it, that I know the Prior of York,
+Together with my good lord chancellor,
+Corrupted you, Lord Sentloe, Broughton, Warman,
+To feast with Robert on his day of fall.
+
+HUGH. They lie that say it: I defy ye all.
+
+JOHN. Now, by the rood, thou liest. Warman himself,
+That creeping Judas, joy'd, and told it me.
+
+LACY. Let me, my lords, revenge me of this wretch,
+By whom my daughter and her love were lost.
+
+JOHN. For her, let me revenge: with bitter cost,
+Shall Sir Hugh Lacy and his fellows buy
+Fair Marian's loss, lost by their treachery;
+And thus I pay it.
+            [_Stabs him; he falls; Boy runs in_.
+
+LEI. Sure payment, John.
+
+LACY. There let the villain lie.
+For this old Lacy honours thee, Prince John:
+One treacherous soul is sent to answer wrong.
+
+    _Enter_ ELY, CHESTER, _Officers, Hugh Lacy's Boy_.
+
+BOY. Here, here, my lord! look, where my master lies.
+
+ELY. What murd'rous hand hath kill'd this gentle knight,
+Good Sir Hugh Lacy, steward of my lands?
+
+JOHN. Ely, he died by this princely hand.
+
+ELY. Unprincely deed! Death asketh death, you know.
+Arrest him, officers.
+
+JOHN. O sir, I will obey.
+You will take bail, I hope.
+
+CHES. 'Tis more, sir, than he may.
+
+LEI. Chester, he may by law, and therefore shall.
+
+ELY. Who are his bail?
+
+LEI. I.
+
+LACY. And I.
+
+ELY. You are confederates.
+
+JOHN. Holy Lord, you lie.
+
+CHES. Be reverend, Prince John: my Lord of Ely,
+You know, is Regent for his majesty,
+
+JOHN. But here are letters from his majesty,
+Sent out of Joppa, in the Holy Land,
+To you, to these, to me, to all the state,
+Containing a repeal of that large grant,
+And free authority to take the seal
+Into the hands of three lords temporal
+And the Lord Archbishop of Roan, he sent.
+And he shall yield it, or as Lacy lies,
+Desertfully, for pride and treason stabb'd,
+He shall ere long lie. Those, that intend as I,
+Follow this steely ensign, lift on high.
+
+    [_Lifts up his drawn sword. Exit, cum_ LEICESTER _and_ LACY.
+
+ELY. A thousand thousand ensigns of sharp steel,
+And feather'd arrows from the bow of death,
+Against proud John wrong'd Ely will employ.
+My Lord of Chester, let me have your aid,
+To lay the pride of haught,[184] usurping John.
+
+CHES. Some other course than war let us bethink:
+If it may be, let not uncivil broils
+Our civil hands defile.
+
+ELY. God knows that I
+For quiet of the realm would aught forbear:
+But give me leave, my noble lord, to fear,
+When one I dearly lov'd is murdered
+Under the colour of a little wrong
+Done to the wasteful Earl of Huntington;
+Whom John, I know, doth hate unto the death,
+Only for love he bears to Lacy's daughter.
+
+CHES. My lord, it's plain this quarrel is but pick'd
+For an inducement to a greater ill;
+But we will call the council of estate,
+At which the Mother Queen shall present be:
+Thither by summons shall Prince John be call'd,
+Leicester, and Lacy, who, it seems,
+Favour some factious purpose of the prince.
+
+ELY. You have advised well, my Lord of Chester;
+And as you counsel, so do I conclude.
+
+                                     [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD _and_ MATILDA _at one door_; LITTLE JOHN
+    _and_ MUCH _the Miller's son at another door_.
+
+MUCH. Luck, I beseech thee, marry and amen!
+Blessing betide them! (it be them indeed)
+Ah, for my good lord and my little lady![185]
+
+ROB. H. What, Much and John! well-met in this ill time.
+
+LIT. JOHN. In this good time, my lord, for, being met,
+The world shall not depart us till we die.[186]
+
+MAT. Say'st thou me so, John? as I am true maid,
+If I live long, well shall thy love be paid.
+
+MUCH. Well, there be on us, simple though we stand here, have as much
+love in them as Little John.
+
+MAT. Much, I confess thou lov'st me very much,
+And I will more reward it than with words.
+
+MUCH. Nay, I know that; but we miller's children love the cog a little,
+and the fair speaking.
+
+ROB. H. And is it possible that Warman's spite
+Should stretch so far, that he doth hunt the lives
+Of bonny Scarlet and his brother Scathlock.
+
+MUCH. O, ay, sir: Warman came but yesterday to take charge of the jail
+at Nottingham, and this day he says he will hang the two outlaws. He
+means to set them at liberty!
+
+MAT. Such liberty God send the peevish wretch,
+In his most need.
+
+ROB. H. Now, by my honour's hope,
+Yet buried in the low dust of disgrace,
+He is to blame. Say, John, where must they die?
+
+LIT. JOHN. Yonder's their mother's house, and here the tree
+Whereon, poor men, they must forego their lives:
+And yonder comes a lazy losel friar,
+That is appointed for their confessor;
+Who, when we brought your money to their mothers,
+Was wishing her to patience for their deaths.
+
+    _Enter_ FRIAR TUCK _and_ RALPH, _Warman's man_.
+
+RAL. I am timorous, sir, that the prigioners are passed from the jail.
+
+FRIAR. Soft, sirrah! by my order I protest
+Ye are too forward: 'tis no game, no jest,
+We go about.
+
+ROB. H. Matilda, walk afore
+To Widow Scarlet's house; look, where it stands.
+Much, man your lady: Little John and I
+Will come unto you thither presently.
+
+MUCH. Come, madam; my lord has 'pointed the properer man to go before ye.
+
+MAT. Be careful, Robin, in this time of fear.
+
+                     [_Exeunt_ MUCH, MATILDA.
+
+FRIAR. Now, by the relics of the holy mass,
+A pretty girl, a very bonny lass.
+
+ROB. H. Friar, how like you her?
+
+FRIAR. Marry, by my hood,
+I like her well, and wish her nought but good.
+
+RAL. Ye protract, Master Friar. I obsecrate ye with all courtesy,
+omitting compliment, you would vouch or deign to proceed.
+
+FRIAR, Deign, vouch, protract, compliment, obsecrate?
+Why, goodman Tricks, who taught you thus to prate?
+Your name, your name? Were you never christen'd?
+
+RAL. My nomination Radulph is, or Ralph: Vulgars corruptly use to call
+me Rafe.
+
+FRIAR. O foul corruption of base palliardize,[187]
+When idiots, witless, travail to be wise.
+Age barbarous, times impious, men vicious!
+
+    Able to upraise,
+    Men dead many days,
+    That wonted to praise
+    The rhymes and the lays
+    Of poets laureate:
+    Whose verse did decorate,
+    And their lines 'lustrate
+    Both prince and potentate.
+    These from their graves
+    See asses and knaves,
+    Base idiot slaves,
+    With boastings and braves
+    Offer to upfly
+    To the heavens high,
+    With vain foolery
+    And rude ribaldry.
+    Some of them write
+    Of beastly delight,
+    Suffering their lines
+    To flatter these times
+    With pandarism base,
+    And lust do uncase
+    From the placket to the pap:
+    God send them ill-hap!
+    Some like quaint pedants,
+    Good wit's true recreants,
+    Ye cannot beseech
+    From pure Priscian speech.
+    Divers as nice,
+    Like this odd vice,
+    Are word-makers daily.
+    Others in courtesy,
+    Whenever they meet ye,
+    With new fashions greet ye:
+    Changing each congee,
+    Sometime beneath knee,
+    With, "Good sir, pardon me,"
+    And much more foolery,
+    Paltry and foppery,
+    Dissembling knavery:
+    Hands sometime kissing,
+    But honesty missing.
+    God give no blessing
+    To such base counterfeiting.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Stop, Master Skelton! whither will you run?
+
+FRIAR. God's pity! Sir John Eltham, Little John,
+I had forgot myself. But to our play.
+Come, goodman Fashions, let us go our way,
+Unto this hanging business. Would, for me,
+Some rescue or reprieve might set them free.
+
+                                   [_Exeunt_ FRIAR, RALPH.
+
+ROB. H. Heard'st thou not, Little John, the friar's speech,
+Wishing for rescue or a quick reprieve?
+
+LIT. JOHN. He seems like a good fellow, my good lord.
+
+ROB. H. He's a good fellow, John, upon my word.
+Lend me thy horn, and get thee in to Much,
+And when I blow this horn, come both, and help me.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Take heed, my lord: that villain Warman knows you,
+And ten to one he hath a writ against you.
+
+ROB. H. Fear not.
+Below the bridge a poor blind man doth dwell,
+With him I will change my habit, and disguise:
+Only be ready when I call for ye;
+For I will save their lives, if it may be.
+
+LIT. JOHN. I will do what you would immediately.
+
+    _Enter_ WARMAN, SCARLET, _and_ SCATHLOCK, _bound_;
+    FRIAR TUCK _as their confessor; officers with halberts_.
+
+WAR. Master Friar, be brief; delay no time.
+Scarlet and Scathlock, never hope for life:
+Here is the place of execution,
+And you must answer law for what is done.
+
+SCAR. Well, if there be no remedy, we must:
+Though it ill-seemeth, Warman, thou should'st be
+So bloody to pursue our lives thus cruelly.
+
+SCATH. Our mother sav'd thee fro the gallows, Warman:
+His father did prefer thee to thy lord.
+One mother had we both, and both our fathers
+To thee and to thy father were kind friends.
+
+FRIAR. Good fellows, here you see his kindness ends:
+What he was once he doth not now consider.
+You must consider of your many sins:
+This day in death your happiness begins.
+
+SCAR. If you account it happiness, good Friar,
+To bear us company I you desire:
+The more the merrier; we are honest men.
+
+WAR. Ye were first outlaws, then ye proved thieves,
+And now all carelessly ye scoff at death.
+Both of your fathers were good, honest men;
+Your mother lives, their widow, in good fame;
+But you are scapethrifts, unthrifts, villains, knaves,
+And as ye lived by shifts, shall die with shame.
+
+SCATH. Warman, good words, for all your bitter deeds:
+Ill-speech to wretched men is more than needs.
+
+    _Enter_ RALPH, _running_.
+
+RAL. Sir, retire ye, for it hath thus succeeded: the carnifex or
+executor, riding on an ill-curtal, hath titubated or stumbled, and is
+now cripplified, with broken or fractured tibiards, and, sending you
+tidings of success, saith yourself must be his deputy.
+
+WAR. Ill-luck! but, sirrah, you shall serve the turn:
+The cords that bind them you shall hang them in.
+
+RAL. How are you, sir, of me opinionated? not to possess your
+seneschalship or shrievalty, not to be Earl of Nottingham, will
+Ralph be nominated by the base, scandalous vociferation of a
+hangman!
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD, _like an old man_.
+
+ROB. H. Where is the Shrieve, kind friends, I you beseech?
+With his good worship let me have some speech.
+
+FRIAR. There is the Sheriff, father: this is he.
+
+ROB. H. Friar, good alms and many blessings! thank thee.
+Sir, you are welcome to this troublous shire:
+Of this day's execution did I hear.
+Scarlet and Scathlock murder'd my young son:
+Me have they robb'd and helplessly undone.
+Revenge I would, but I am old and dry:
+Wherefore, sweet master, for saint Charity,
+Since they are bound, deliver them to me,
+That for my son's blood I reveng'd may be.
+
+SCAR. This old man lies: we ne'er did him such wrong.
+
+ROB. H. I do not lie: you wot it too-too well.
+The deed was such as you may shame to tell;
+But I with all entreats might not prevail
+With your stern, stubborn minds, bent all to blood.
+Shall I have such revenge then, Master Sheriff,
+That with my son's loss may suffice myself?
+                       [ROBIN _whispers with them_.
+
+WAR. Do, father, what thou wilt, for they must die.
+
+FRIAR. I never heard them touch'd with blood till now.
+
+WAR. Notorious villains! and they made their brags,
+The Earl of Huntington would save their lives:
+But he is down the wind, as all such shall,
+That revel, waste and spend, and take no care.
+
+ROB. H. My horn once winded, I'll unbind my belt,
+Whereat the swords and bucklers are fast-tied.
+                             [_To_ SCARLET _and_ SCATHLOCK.
+
+SCATH. Thanks to your honour. [_Aside_.] Father, we confess,
+And were our arms unbound, we would upheave
+Our sinful hands with sorrowing hearts to heaven.
+
+ROB. H. I will unbind you, with the sheriff's leave.
+
+WAR. Do: help him, Ralph: go to them, Master Friar.
+
+ROB. H. And as ye blew your horns at my son's death,
+So will I sound your knell with my best breath:
+                                 [_Sounds his horn_.
+And here's a blade, that hangeth at my belt,
+Shall make ye feel in death what my son felt.
+
+    _Enter_ LITTLE JOHN _and_ MUCH.[188] _Fight: the_ FRIAR,
+    _making as if he helped the_ SHERIFF, _knocks down his men,
+    crying, Keep the king's peace_!
+
+RAL. O, they must be hanged, father.
+
+ROB. H. Thy master and thyself supply their rooms.
+Warman, approach me not! tempt not my wrath,
+For if thou do, thou diest remediless.
+
+WAR. It is the outlaw'd Earl of Huntington!
+Down with him, Friar! O, thou dost mistake![189]
+Fly, Ralph, we die else! let us raise the shire.
+
+               [SHERIFF _runs away, and his men_.
+
+FRIAR. Farewell. Earl Robert, as I am true friar,
+I had rather be thy clerk than serve the Prior.
+
+ROB. H. A jolly fellow. Scarlet, know'st thou him?
+
+SCAR. He is of York, and of St Mary's cloister,
+There where your greedy uncle is Lord Prior.
+
+MUCH. O, murrain on ye! have you two 'scap'd hanging?[190]
+Hark ye, my lord: these two fellows kept at Barnsdale
+Seven year to my knowledge, and no man[191]--
+
+ROB. H. Here is no biding, masters: get ye in,
+Take a short blessing at your mother's hands.
+Much, bear them company; make Matilda merry:
+John and myself will follow presently.
+John, on a sudden thus I am resolv'd--
+To keep in Sherwood till the king's return,
+And being outlaw'd, lead an outlaw's life.
+(Seven years these brethren, being yeomen's sons,
+Lived and 'scap'd the malice of their foes.)[192]
+How think'st thou, Little John, of my intent?
+
+LIT. JOHN. I like your honour's purpose exceeding well.
+
+ROB. H. Nay, no more honour, I pray thee, Little John;
+Henceforth I will be called Robin Hood.
+Matilda shall be my maid Marian.
+Come, John, friends all, for now begins the game;
+And after our deserts so grow our fame!
+
+                                        [_Exeunt.
+
+
+
+
+ACT III., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ PRINCE JOHN, _and his Lords, with Soldiers_.
+
+JOHN. Now is this comet shot into the sea,
+Or lies like slime upon the sullen earth.
+Come, he is dead, else should we hear of him.
+
+SAL. I know not what to think herein, my lord.
+
+FITZ. Ely is not the man I took him for:
+I am afraid we shall have worse than he.
+
+JOHN. Why, good Fitzwater, whence doth spring your fear.
+
+FITZ. Him for his pride we justly have suppress'd;
+But prouder climbers are about to rise.
+
+SAL. Name them, Fitzwater: know you any such?
+
+JOHN. Fitzwater means not anything, I know;
+For if he did, his tongue would tell his heart.
+
+FITZ. An argument of my free heart, my lord.
+That lets the world be witness of my thought.
+When I was taught, true dealing kept the school;
+Deeds were sworn partners with protesting words;
+We said and did; these say and never mean.
+This upstart protestation of no proof--
+This, "I beseech you, sir, accept my love;
+Command me, use me; O, you are to blame,
+That do neglect, my everlasting zeal,
+My dear, my kind affect;" when (God can tell)
+A sudden puff of wind, a lightning flash,
+A bubble on the stream doth longer 'dure,
+Than doth the purpose of their promise bide.
+A shame upon this peevish, apish age,
+These crouching, hypocrite, dissembling times!
+Well, well, God rid the patrons of these crimes
+Out of this land: I have an inward fear,
+This ill, well-seeming sin will be bought dear.
+
+SAL. My Lord Fitzwater is inspired, I think.
+
+JOHN. Ay, with some devil: let the old fool dote.
+
+    _Enter_ QUEEN MOTHER, CHESTER, SHERIFF _of Kent, Soldiers_.
+
+QU. MO. From the pursuing of the hateful priest
+And bootless search of Ely are we come.
+
+JOHN. And welcome is your sacred majesty;
+And, Chester, welcome too against your will.
+
+CHES. Unwilling men come not without constraint;
+But uncompell'd comes Chester to this place,
+Telling thee, John, that thou art much to blame,
+To chase hence Ely, chancellor to the king;
+To set thy footsteps on the cloth of state,
+And seat thy body in thy brother's throne.
+
+SAL. Who should succeed the brother but the brother?
+
+CHES. If one were dead, one should succeed the other.
+
+QU. MO. My son is king, my son then ought to reign.
+
+FITZ. One son is king; the state allows not twain.
+
+SAL. The subjects many years the king have miss'd.
+
+CHES. But subjects must not choose what king they list.
+
+QU. MO. Richard hath conquer'd kingdoms in the east.
+
+FITZ. A sign he will not lose this in the west.
+
+SAL. By Salisbury's honour, I will follow John.
+
+CHES. So Chester will, to shun commotion.
+
+QU. MO. Why, John shall be but Richard's deputy.
+
+FITZ. To that Fitzwater gladly doth agree.
+And look to't, lady, mind King Richard's love;
+As you will answer't, do the king no wrong.
+
+QU. MO. Well-said, old Conscience, you keep still one song.
+
+JOHN. In your contentious humours, noble lords,
+Peers and upholders of the English state,
+John silent stood, as one that did await
+What sentence ye determin'd for my life:
+But since you are agreed that I shall bear
+The weighty burthen of this kingdom's state,
+Till the return of Richard our dread king,
+I do accept the charge, and thank ye all,
+That think me worthy of so great a place.
+
+ALL. We all confirm you Richard's deputy.
+
+SAL. Now shall I plague proud Chester.
+
+QU. MO. Sit you sure, Fitzwater.
+
+CHES. For peace I yield to wrong.
+
+JOHN. Now, old man, for your daughter.
+
+FITZ. To see wrong rule, my eyes run streams of water.
+
+                                    [_A noise within_.
+
+    _Enter_ COLLIERS, _crying, A monster_!
+
+COL. A monster! a monster! bring her out, Robin: a monster! a monster!
+
+SAL. Peace, gaping fellow! know'st thou where thou art?
+
+1ST COL. Why, I am in Kent, within a mile of Dover.
+'Sblood, where I am! peace, and a gaping fellow!
+For all your dagger, wert not for your ging,[193]
+I would knock my whipstock on your addle-head.
+Come, out with the monster, Robin.
+
+WITHIN. I come, I come. Help me, she scratches!
+
+1ST COL. I'll gee her the lash. Come out, ye bearded witch.
+
+    [_Bring forth_ ELY, _with a yard in his hand and
+    linen cloth, dressed like a woman_.
+
+ELY. Good fellows, let me go! there's gold to drink,
+I am a man, though in woman's weeds.
+Yonder's Prince John: I pray ye, let me go.
+
+QU. MO. What rude companions have we yonder, Salisbury?
+
+1ST COL. Shall we take his money?
+
+2D COL. No, no; this is the thief that robbed Master Michaels, and came
+in like a woman in labour, I warrant ye.
+
+SAL. Who have ye here, honest colliers?
+
+2D COL. A monster, a monster! a woman with a beard, a man in a petticoat.
+A monster, a monster!
+
+SAL. What, my good Lord of Ely, is it you?--Ely is taken, here's the
+chancellor!
+
+1ST COL. Pray God we be not hanged for this trick.
+
+QU. MO. What, my good lord!
+
+ELY. Ay, ay, ambitious lady.
+
+JOHN. Who? My lord chancellor?
+
+ELY. Ay, you proud usurper.
+
+SAL. What, is your surplice turned to a smock?
+
+ELY. Peace, Salisbury, thou changing weather-cock.
+
+CHES. Alas, my lord! I grieve to see this sight.
+
+ELY. Chester, it will be day for this dark night.
+
+FITZ. Ely, thou wert the foe to Huntington:
+Robin, thou knew'st, was my adopted son.
+O Ely, thou to him wert too-too cruel!
+With him fled hence Matilda, my fair jewel.
+For their wrong, Ely, and thy haughty pride,
+I help'd Earl John; but now I see thee low,
+At thy distress my heart is full of woe.
+
+QU. MO. Needs must I see Fitzwater's overthrow.
+John, I affect him not, he loves not thee:
+Remove him, John, lest thou removed be.
+
+JOHN. Mother, let me alone; by one and one
+I will not leave one that envies our good.
+My Lord of Salisbury, give these honest colliers
+For taking Ely each a hundred marks.
+
+SAL. Come, fellows; go with me.
+
+COL. Thank ye, [i'] faith. Farewell, monster.
+
+          [_Exeunt_ SALISBURY, _with_ COLLIERS.
+
+JOHN. Sheriff of Kent, take Ely to your charge.
+From shrieve to shrieve send him to Nottingham,
+Where Warman, by our patent, is high shrieve.
+There, as a traitor, let him be close-kept.
+And to his trial we will follow straight.
+
+ELY. A traitor, John?
+
+JOHN. Do not expostulate:
+You at your trial shall have time to prate.
+
+                           [_Exeunt cum_ ELY.
+
+FITZ. God, for thy pity, what a time is here!
+
+JOHN. Right gracious mother, would yourself and Chester
+Would but withdraw you for a little space,
+While I confer with my good Lord Fitzwater?
+
+QUEEN. My Lord of Chester, will you walk aside?
+
+CHES. Whither your highness please, thither I will.
+
+                        [_Exeunt_ CHESTER _and_ QUEEN.
+
+JOHN. Soldiers, attend the person of our mother.
+                                   [_Exeunt_ SOLDIERS.
+Noble Fitzwater, now we are alone,
+What oft I have desir'd I will entreat,
+Touching Matilda, fled with Huntington.
+
+FITZ. Of her what would you touch? Touching her flight,
+She is fled hence with Robert, her true knight.
+
+JOHN. Robert is outlaw'd, and Matilda free;
+Why through his fault should she exiled be?
+She is your comfort, your old[194] age's bliss;
+Why should your age so great a comfort miss?
+She is all England's beauty, all her pride;
+In foreign lands why should that beauty bide?
+Call her again, Fitzwater, call again
+Guiltless Matilda, beauty's sovereign.
+
+FITZ. I grant, Prince John, Matilda was my joy,
+And the fair sun that kept old Winter's frost
+From griping dead the marrow of my bones;
+And she is gone; yet where she is, God wot:
+Aged Fitzwater truly guesseth not.
+But where she is, there is kind Huntington;
+With my fair daughter is my noble son.
+If he may never be recall'd again,
+To call Matilda back it is in vain.
+
+JOHN. Living with him, she lives in vicious state,
+For Huntington is excommunicate;
+And till his debts be paid, by Rome's decree
+It is agreed absolv'd he cannot be;
+And that can never be: so ne'er a[195] wife,
+But a loathed[196] adulterous beggar's life,
+Must fair Matilda live. This you may amend,
+And win Prince John your ever-during friend.
+
+FITZ. As how? as how?
+
+JOHN. Call her from him: bring her to England's court,
+Where, like fair Phoebe, she may sit as queen
+Over the sacred, honourable maids
+That do attend the royal queen, my mother.
+There shall she live a prince's Cynthia,
+And John will be her true Endymion.
+
+FITZ. By this construction she should be the moon,
+And you would be the man within the moon!
+
+JOHN. A pleasant exposition, good Fitzwater:
+But if it so fell out that I fell in,
+You of my full joys should be chief partaker.
+
+FITZ. John, I defy thee! by my honour's hope,
+I will not bear this base indignity!
+Take to thy tools! think'st thou a nobleman
+Will be a pander to his proper[197] child?
+For what intend'st thou else, seeing I know
+Earl Chepstow's daughter is thy married wife.
+Come, if thou be a right Plantaganet,
+Draw and defend thee. O our Lady, help
+True English lords from such a tyrant lord!
+What, dost thou think I jest? Nay, by the rood,
+I'll lose my life, or purge thy lustful blood.
+
+JOHN. What, my old ruffian, lie at your ward?[198]
+Have at your froward bosom, old Fitzwater.
+
+                          [_Fight_: JOHN _falls_.
+
+    _Enter_ QUEEN, CHESTER, SALISBURY, _hastily_.
+
+FITZ. O, that thou wert not royal Richard's brother,
+Thou shouldst here die in presence of thy mother.
+    [JOHN _rises: all compass_ FITZWATER; FITZWATER _chafes_.
+What, is he up? Nay, lords, then give us leave.
+
+CHES. What means this rage, Fitzwater?
+
+QUEEN. Lay hands upon the Bedlam, trait'rous wretch!
+
+JOHN. Nay, hale him hence! and hear you, old Fitzwater:
+See that you stay not five days in the realm.
+For if you do, you die remediless.
+
+FITZ. Speak, lords: do you confirm what he hath said?
+
+ALL. He is our prince, and he must be obey'd.
+
+FITZ. Hearken, Earl John! but one word will I say.
+
+JOHN. I will not hear thee; neither will I stay.
+Thou know'st thy time.
+                     [_Exit_ JOHN.
+
+FITZ. Will not your highness hear?
+
+QUEEN. No: thy Matilda robb'd me of my dear.
+                              [_Exit_ QUEEN.
+
+FITZ. I aided thee in battle, Salisbury.
+
+SAL. Prince John is mov'd; I dare not stay with thee.
+                              [_Exit_ SALISBURY.[199]
+
+FITZ. 'Gainst thee and Ely, Chester, was I foe,
+And dost thou stay to aggravate my woe?
+
+CHES. No, good Fitzwater; Chester doth lament
+Thy wrong, thy sudden banishment.
+Whence grew the quarrel 'twixt the prince and thee?
+
+FITZ. Chester, the devil tempted old Fitzwater
+To be a pander to his only daughter;
+And my great heart, impatient, forc'd my hand,
+In my true honour's right to challenge him.
+Alas the while! wrong will not be reprov'd.
+
+CHES. Farewell, Fitzwater: wheresoe'er thou be,
+By letters, I beseech thee, send to me.
+                               [_Exit_ CHESTER.
+
+FITZ. Chester, I will, I will.
+Heavens turn to good this woe, this wrong, this ill.
+
+                                            [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    _Enter_ SCATHLOCK _and_ SCARLET, _winding their horns,
+    at several doors. To them enter_ ROBIN HOOD, MATILDA,
+    _all in green_, SCATHLOCK'S MOTHER, MUCH, LITTLE JOHN:
+    _all the men with bows and arrows_.
+
+ROB. H. Widow, I wish thee homeward now to wend,
+Lest Warman's malice work thee any wrong.
+
+WID. Master, I will; and mickle good attend
+On thee, thy love, and all these yeomen strong.
+
+MAT. Forget not, widow, what you promis'd me.
+
+MUCH. O, ay, mistress; for God's sake let's have Jenny.
+
+WID. You shall have Jenny sent you with all speed.
+Sons, farewell, and, by your mother's reed,
+Love well your master: blessing ever fall
+On him, your mistress, and these yeomen tall.
+                                       [_Exit_.
+
+MUCH. God be with you, mother: have much mind, I pray, on Much your son,
+and your daughter Jenny.
+
+ROB. H. Wind once more, jolly huntsmen, all your horns;
+Whose shrill sound, with the echoing wood's assist,
+Shall ring a sad knell for the fearful deer,
+Before our feathered shafts, death's winged darts,
+Bring sudden summons for their fatal ends.
+
+SCAR. It's full seven years since we were outlaw'd first,
+And wealthy Sherwood was our heritage:
+For all those years we reigned uncontroll'd,
+From Barnsdale shrogs to Nottingham's red cliffs;
+At Blithe and Tickhill were we welcome guests.
+Good George-a-Greene at Bradford was our friend,
+And wanton Wakefield's Pinner[200] lov'd us well.
+At Barnsley dwells a potter tough and strong,
+That never brook'd we brethren should have wrong.
+The nuns of Farnsfield (pretty nuns they be)
+Gave napkins, shirts, and bands to him and me.
+Bateman of Kendal gave us Kendal green,
+And Sharpe of Leeds sharp arrows for us made:
+At Rotheram dwelt our bowyer, God him bless;
+Jackson he hight, his bows did never miss.
+This for our good--our scathe let Scathlock tell,
+In merry Mansfield how it once befell.
+
+SCATH. In merry Mansfield, on a wrestling day,
+Prizes there were, and yeomen came to play;
+My brother Scarlet and myself were twain.
+Many resisted, but it was in vain,
+For of them all we won the mastery,
+And the gilt wreaths were given to him and me.
+There by Sir Doncaster of Hothersfield
+We were bewray'd, beset, and forc'd to yield,
+And so borne bound from thence to Nottingham,
+Where we lay doom'd to death till Warman came.
+
+ROB. H. Of that enough. What cheer, my dearest love?
+
+MUCH. O, good cheer anon, sir; she shall have venison her bellyful.
+
+MAT. Matilda is as joyful of thy good
+As joy can make her: how fares Robin Hood?
+
+ROB. H. Well, my Matilda, and if thou agree,
+Nothing but mirth shall wait on thee and me.
+
+MAT. O God, how full of perfect mirth were I
+To see thy grief turn'd to true jollity!
+
+ROB. H. Give me thy hand; now God's curse on me light,
+If I forsake not grief, in griefs despite.
+Much, make a cry, and, yeomen, stand ye round:
+I charge ye never more let woful sound
+Be heard among ye; but whatever fall,
+Laugh grief to scorn, and so make sorrow small,
+Much, make a cry, and loudly: Little John.
+
+MUCH. O God, O God! help, help, help! I am undone, I am undone!
+
+LIT. JOHN. Why, how now, Much? Peace, peace, you roaring slave.
+
+MUCH. My master bad me cry, and I will cry till he bid me leave.
+Help, help, help! Ay, marry will I.
+
+ROB. H. Peace, Much. Read on the articles, good John.
+
+LIT. JOHN. First, no man must presume to call our master
+By name of Earl, Lord, Baron, Knight, or Squire;
+But simply by the name of Robin Hood.
+
+ROB. H. Say, yeomen, to this order will ye yield?
+
+ALL. We yield to serve our master, Robin Hood.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Next, 'tis agreed, if thereto she agree,
+That fair Matilda henceforth change her name,
+And while it is the chance of Robin Hood
+To live in Sherwood a poor outlaw's life,
+She by Maid Marian's name be only call'd.
+
+MAT. I am contented; read on, Little John:
+Henceforth let me be nam'd Maid Marian.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Thirdly, no yeoman, following Robin Hood
+In Sherwood, shall [ab]use widow, wife, or maid;
+But by true labour lustful thoughts expel.
+
+ROB. H. How like ye this?
+
+ALL. Master, we like it well.
+
+MUCH. But I cry no to it. What shall I do with Jenny then?
+
+SCAR. Peace, Much: go forward with the orders, fellow John.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Fourthly, no passenger with whom ye meet
+Shall ye let pass, till he with Robin feast;
+Except a post, a carrier, or such folk
+As use with food to serve the market towns.
+
+ALL. An order which we gladly will observe.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Fifthly, you never shall the poor man wrong,
+Nor spare a priest, a usurer, or a clerk.
+
+MUCH. Nor a fair wench, meet we her in the dark!
+
+LIT. JOHN. Lastly, you shall defend with all your power
+Maids, widows, orphans, and distressed men.
+
+ALL. All these we vow to keep as we are men.
+
+ROB. H. Then wend ye to the greenwood merrily,
+And let the light roes bootless from ye run.
+Marian and I, as sovereigns of your toils,
+Will wait within our bower your bent bows' spoils.
+
+MUCH. I will among them, master.
+
+                    [_Exeunt winding their horns_.
+
+ROB. H. Marian, thou seest, though courtly pleasures want,
+Yet country sport in Sherwood is not scant:
+For the soul-ravishing, delicious sound
+Of instrumental music we have found
+The winged quiristers with divers notes
+Sent from their quaint recording[201] pretty throats,
+On every branch that compasseth our bow'r,
+Without command contenting us each hour.
+For arras hangings and rich tapestry
+We have sweet nature's best embroidery.
+For thy steel glass, wherein thou wont'st to look,
+Thy crystal eyes gaze in a crystal brook.
+At court a flower or two did deck thy head,
+Now with whole garlands is it circled.
+For what in wealth we want, we have in flowers,
+And what we lose in halls, we find in bowers.
+
+MAR. Marian hath all, sweet Robert, having thee,
+And guesses thee as rich in having me.
+
+ROB. H. I am indeed;
+For, having thee, what comfort can I need?
+
+MAR. Go in, go in.
+To part such true love, Robin, it were sin.
+
+                                   [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Enter_ PRIOR, SIR DONCASTER, FRIAR TUCK.
+
+PRIOR. To take his body, by the blessed rood,
+'Twould do me more than any other good.
+
+DON. O, 'tis an unthrift, still the churchmen's foe;
+An ill-end will betide him, that I know.
+'Twas he that urged the king to 'sess the clergy,
+When to the holy land he took his journey;
+And he it is that rescued those two thieves,
+Scarlet and Scathlock, that so many griefs
+To churchmen did: and now, they say,
+He keeps in Sherwood, and himself doth play
+The lawless reaver:[202] hear you, my Lord Prior,
+He must be taken, or it will be wrong.
+
+TUCK. Ay, ay, soon said;
+But ere he be, many will lie dead,
+Except it be by sleight.
+
+DON. Ay, there, there, Friar.
+
+TUCK. Give me, my lord, your execution.
+The widow Scarlet's daughter, lovely Jenny,
+Loves, and is belov'd of Much, the miller's son.
+If I can get the girl to go with me,
+Disguis'd in habit like a pedlar's mort,[203]
+I'll serve this execution, on my life,
+And single out a time alone to take
+Robin, that often careless walks alone.
+Why, answer not; remember what I said:
+Yonder, I see, comes Jenny, that fair maid.
+If we agree, then back me soon with aid.
+
+    _Enter_ JENNY _with a fardel_.
+
+PRIOR. Tuck, if thou do it--
+
+DON. Pray, you do not talk:
+As we were strangers let us careless walk.
+
+JEN. Now to the green wood wend I, God me speed.
+
+TUCK. Amen, fair maid, and send thee, in thy need,
+Much, that is born to do thee much good deed.
+
+JEN. Are you there, Friar? nay then, i'faith, we have it.
+
+TUCK. What, wench? my love?
+
+JEN. Ay, gi't me when I crave it.
+
+TUCK. Unask'd I offer; prythee, sweet girl, take it.
+
+JEN. Gifts stink with proffer: foh! Friar, I forsake it.
+
+TUCK. I will be kind.
+
+JEN. Will not your kindness kill her?
+
+TUCK. With love?
+
+JEN. You cog.
+
+TUCK. Tut, girl, I am no miller:
+Hear in your ear.
+
+DON. The Friar courts her.    [_Standing behind_.
+
+PRIOR. Tush, let them alone;
+He is our Lady's Chaplain, but serves Joan.
+
+DON. Then, from the Friar's fault, perchance, it may be
+The proverb grew, Joan's taken for my lady.
+
+PRIOR. Peace, good Sir Doncaster, list to the end.
+
+JEN. But mean ye faith and troth? shall I go wi' ye?
+
+TUCK. Upon my faith, I do intend good faith.
+
+JEN. And shall I have the pins and laces too,
+If I bear a pedlar's pack with you?
+
+TUCK. As I am holy Friar, Jenny, thou shalt.
+
+JEN. Well, there's my hand; see, Friar, you do not halt.
+
+TUCK. Go but before into the miry mead,
+And keep the path that doth to Farnsfield lead;
+I'll into Southwell and buy all the knacks,
+That shall fit both of us for pedlar's packs.
+
+JEN. Who be they two that yonder walk, I pray?
+
+TUCK. Jenny, I know not: be they what they may,
+Scare not for them; prythee, do not stay,
+But make some speed, that we were gone away.
+
+JEN. Well, Friar, I trust you that we go to Sherwood.
+
+TUCK. Ay, by my beads, and unto Robin Hood.
+
+JEN. Make speed, good Friar.
+
+TUCK. Jenny, do not fear.    [_Exit_ JENNY.
+Lord Prior, now you hear,
+As much as I. Get me two pedlar's packs,
+Points, laces, looking-glasses, pins and knacks;
+And let Sir Doncaster with some wight lads
+Follow us close; and, ere these forty hours,
+Upon my life Earl Robert shall be ours.
+
+PRIOR. Thou shalt have anything, my dearest Friar;
+And in amends I'll make thee my sub-prior.
+Come, good Sir Doncaster, and if we thrive,
+We'll frolic with the nuns of Leeds, belive.[204]
+
+                                        [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Enter_ FITZWATER, _like an old man_.
+
+FITZ. Well did he write, and mickle did he know,
+That said this world's felicity was woe,
+Which greater states can hardly undergo.
+Whilom Fitzwater, in fair England's court,
+Possess'd felicity and happy state,
+And in his hall blithe fortune kept her sport,
+Which glee one hour of woe did ruinate.
+Fitzwater once had castles, towns, and towers,
+Fair gardens, orchards, and delightful bowers;
+But now nor garden, orchard, town, nor tower,
+Hath poor Fitzwater left within his power.
+Only wide walks are left me in the world,
+Which these stiff limbs will hardly let me tread;
+And when I sleep, heaven's glorious canopy
+Me and my mossy couch doth overspread.
+Of this injurious John cannot bereave me;
+The air and earth he (while I live) must leave me;
+But from the English air and earth, poor man,
+His tyranny hath ruthless thee exiled.
+Yet e'er I leave it, I'll do what I can
+To see Matilda, my fair luckless child.
+
+    [_Curtains open_:--ROBIN HOOD _sleeps on a green bank,
+    and_ MARIAN _strewing flowers on him_.
+
+And in good time, see where my comfort stands,
+And by her lies dejected Huntington.
+Look how my flow'r holds flowers in her hands,
+And flings those sweets upon my sleeping son.
+I'll close mine eyes as if I wanted sight,
+That I may see the end of their delight.
+               [_Goes knocking with his staff_.
+
+MAR. What aged man art thou? or by what chance
+Cam'st thou thus far into the wayless wood?
+
+FITZ. Widow or wife, or maiden if thou be,
+Lend me thy hand; thou seest I cannot see:
+Blessing betide thee, little feel'st thou want;
+With me, good child, food is both hard and scant.
+These smooth even veins assure me he is kind,
+Whate'er he be, my girl, that thee doth find.
+I, poor and old, am reft of all earth's good,
+And desperately am crept into this wood
+To seek the poor man's patron, Robin Hood.
+
+MAR. And thou art welcome: welcome, aged man,
+Ay, ten times welcome to Maid Marian.
+Sit down, old father, sit, and call me daughter.
+O God, how like he looks to old Fitzwater!
+                                     [_Runs in_.
+
+FITZ. Is my Matilda call'd Maid Marian?
+I wonder why her name is changed thus.
+
+                         [MARIAN _brings wine, meat_.
+
+MAR. Here's wine to cheer thy heart; drink, aged man:
+There's ven'son and a knife, here's manchet[205] fine:
+Drink, good old man, I pray you, drink more wine.
+My Robin stirs; I must sing him asleep.
+
+ROB. H. Nay, you have wak'd me, Marian, with your talk.
+What man is that's come within our walk?
+
+MAR. An aged man, a silly, sightless man,
+Near pin'd with hunger: see, how fast he eats.
+
+ROB. H. Much good may't do him: never is good meat
+Ill-spent on such a stomach. Father, proface;[206]
+To Robin Hood thou art a welcome man.
+
+FITZ. I thank you, master. Are you Robin Hood?
+
+ROB. H. Father, I am.
+
+FITZ. God give your soul much good
+For this good meat Maid Marian hath given me.
+But hear me, master; can you tell me news,
+Where fair Matilda is, Fitzwater's daughter?
+
+ROB. H. Why, here she is; this Marian is she.
+
+FITZ. Why did she change her name?
+
+ROB. H. What's that to thee?
+
+FITZ. Yes, I could weep for grief that it is so,
+But that my tears are all dried up with woe.
+
+ROB. H. Why, she is called Maid Marian, honest friend,
+Because she lives a spotless maiden life;
+And shall, till Robin's outlaw life have end,
+That he may lawfully take her to wife;
+Which, if King Richard come, will not be long,
+For in his hand is power to right our wrong.
+
+FITZ. If it be thus, I joy in her name's change:
+So pure love in these times is very strange.
+
+MAR. Robin, I think it is my aged father.    [_Aside_.
+
+ROB. H. Tell me, old man, tell me in courtesy,
+Are you no other than you seem to be?
+
+FITZ. I am a wretched aged man, you see,
+If you will do me aught for charity:
+Further than this, sweet, do not question me.
+
+ROB. H. You shall have your desire. But what be these?
+
+    _Enter_ FRIAR TUCK _and_ JENNY_, like pedlars, singing.
+
+        What lack ye? what lack ye?
+        What is it you will buy?
+        Any points, pins or laces,
+        Any laces, points or pins?
+        Fine gloves, fine glasses,
+        Any busks or masks?
+        Or any other pretty things?
+        Come, cheap for love, or buy for money.
+        Any coney, coney-skins?
+        For laces, points or pins?
+        Fair maids, come choose or buy.
+        I have pretty poking-sticks,[207]
+        And many other tricks,
+        Come, choose for love, or buy for money_.
+
+ROB. H. Pedlar, I prythee set thy pack down here:
+Marian shall buy, if thou be not too dear.
+
+TUCK. Jenny, unto thy mistress show thy pack.
+Master, for you I have a pretty knack,
+From far I brought, please you see to the same.
+
+        [_Exeunt_ ROBIN HOOD, MARIAN, _and_ FITZWATER.
+
+    _Enter_ SIR DONCASTER _and others, weaponed_.[208]
+
+FRIAR. Sir Doncaster, are not we pedlar-like?
+
+DON. Yes, passing fit; and yonder is the bower.
+I doubt not we shall have him in our power.
+
+FRIAR. You and your company were best stand close.
+
+DON. What shall the watchword be to bring us forth?
+
+FRIAR. Take it, I pray, though it be much more worth:
+When I speak that aloud, be sure I serve
+The execution presently on him.
+
+DON. Friar, look to't.
+
+FRIAR. Now, Jenny, to your song.    [_Sings_.
+
+    _Enter_ MARIAN, ROBIN.
+
+MAR. Pedlar, what pretty toys have you to sell?
+
+FRIAR. Jenny, unto your mistress show your ware.
+
+MAR. Come in, good woman.    [_Exeunt_.
+
+FRIAR. Master, look here,
+       And God give ear,
+       So mote I the[209],
+       To her and me,
+       If ever we,
+       Robin, to thee,
+       That art so free.
+       Mean treachery.
+
+ROB. H. On, pedlar, to thy pack;
+If thou love me, my love thou shalt not lack.
+
+FRIAR. Master, in brief,
+       There is a thief,
+       That seeks your grief.
+       God send relief
+       To you in need.
+       For a foul deed,
+       If not with speed
+       You take good heed,
+       There is decreed.
+       In yonder brake
+       There lies a snake,
+       That means to take
+       Out of this wood
+       The yeoman good,
+       Call'd Robin Hood.
+
+ROB. H. Pedlar, I prythee be more plain.
+What brake? what snake? what trap? what train?
+
+FRIAR. Robin, I am a holy friar,
+       Sent by the Prior,
+       Who did me hire,
+       For to conspire
+       Thy endless woe
+       And overthrow:
+       But thou shalt know,
+       I am the man
+       Whom Little John
+       From Nottingham
+       Desir'd to be
+       A clerk to thee;
+       For he to me
+       Said thou wert free,
+       And I did see
+       Thy honesty,
+       From gallow-tree
+       When thou didst free
+       Scathlock and Scarlet certainly[210].
+
+ROB. H. Why, then, it seems that thou art Friar Tuck.
+
+FRIAR. Master, I am.
+
+ROB. H. I pray thee, Friar, say,
+What treachery is meant to me this day?
+
+FRIAR. First wind your horn; then draw your sword.
+                      [_ROBIN HOOD winds his horn_.
+For I have given a friar's word,
+To take your body prisoner,
+And yield you to Sir Doncaster,
+The envious priest of Hothersfield,
+Whose power your bushy wood doth shield;
+But I will die ere you shall yield.
+
+  _Enter_ LITTLE JOHN, &c.
+
+And sith your yeomen do appear,
+I'll give the watchword without fear.
+Take it, I pray thee, though it be more worth.
+
+    _Rush in_ SIR DONCASTER _with his crew_.
+
+DON. Smite down! lay hold on outlaw'd Huntington!
+
+LIT. JOHN. Soft, hot-spurr'd priest, 'tis not so quickly done.
+
+DON. Now, out alas! the friar and the maid
+Have to false thieves Sir Doncaster betray'd.
+
+                        [_Exeunt omnes_.[211]
+
+
+
+
+ACT IV., SCENE 1.
+
+
+    _Enter_ JOHN _crowned_, QUEEN ELINOR, CHESTER, SALISBURY,
+    LORD PRIOR. _Sit down all_. WARMAN _stands_.
+
+JOHN. As God's vicegerent, John ascends this throne,
+His head impal'd with England's diadem,[212]
+And in his hand the awful rod of rule,
+Giving the humble place of excellence,
+And to the low earth casting down the proud.
+
+QUEEN. Such upright rule is in each realm allow'd.
+
+JOHN. Chester, you once were Ely's open friend,
+And yet are doubtful whether he deserve
+A public trial for his private wrongs.
+
+CHES. I still am doubtful whether it be fit
+To punish private faults with public shame
+In such a person as Lord Ely is.
+
+PRIOR. Yes, honourable Chester, more it fits
+To make apparent sins of mighty men,
+And on their persons sharply to correct
+A little fault, a very small defect,
+Than on the poor to practise chastisement:
+For if a poor man die, or suffer shame,
+Only the poor and vile respect the same;
+But if the mighty fall, fear then besets
+The proud heart of the mighty ones, his mates:
+They think the world is garnished with nets,
+And traps ordained to entrap their states;
+Which fear in them begets a fear of ill,
+And makes them good, contrary to their will.
+
+JOHN. Your lordship hath said right. Lord Salisbury,
+Is not your mind as ours concerning Ely?
+
+SAL. I judge him worthy of reproof and shame.
+
+JOHN. Warman, bring forth your prisoner, Ely, the chancellor;
+And with him bring the seal that he detains.
+Warman, why goest thou not?
+
+WAR. Be good to me, my lord.
+
+JOHN. What hast thou done?
+
+WAR. Speak for me, my Lord Prior:
+All my good lords entreat his grace for me.
+Ely, my lord--
+
+JOHN. Why, where is Ely, Warman?
+
+WAR. Fled to-day: this misty morning he is fled away.
+
+JOHN. O Judas! whom nor friend nor foe may trust,
+Think'st thou with tears and plaints to answer this?
+Do I not know thy heart? do I not know
+That bribes have purchas'd Ely this escape?
+Never make antic faces, never bend
+With feigned humblesse thy still crouching knee,
+But with fix'd eyes unto thy doom attend.
+Villain! I'll plague thee for abusing me.
+Go hence; and henceforth never set thy foot
+In house or field thou didst this day possess.
+Mark what I say: advise thee to look to't,
+Or else, be sure, thou diest remediless.
+Nor from those houses see that thou receive
+So much as shall sustain thee for an hour,
+But as thou art, go where thou canst; get friends,
+And he that feeds thee be mine enemy.
+
+WAR. O my good lord!
+
+JOHN. Thou thy good lord betrayedst,
+And all the world for money thou wilt sell.
+
+WAR. What says the queen?
+
+QUEEN. Why, thus I say:
+Betray thy master, thou wilt all betray.
+
+WAR. My Lords of Chester and of Salisbury!
+
+BOTH. Speak not to us: all traitors we defy.
+
+WAR. Good my Lord Prior!
+
+PRIOR. Alas! what can I do?
+
+WAR. Then I defy the world! yet I desire
+Your grace would read this supplication.
+
+                            [JOHN _reads_.
+
+JOHN. I thought as much: but, Warman, dost thou think
+There is one moving line to mercy here?
+I tell thee, no; therefore away, away!
+A shameful death follows thy longer stay.
+
+WAR. O poor, poor man!
+Of miserable miserablest wretch I am.    [_Exit_.
+
+JOHN. Confusion be thy guide! a baser slave
+Earth cannot bear: plagues follow him, I crave.
+Can any tell me if my Lord of York
+Be able to sit up?
+
+QUEEN. The Archbishop's grace
+Was reasonable well even now, good son.
+
+SAL. And he desir'd me that I should desire
+Your majesty to send unto his grace,
+If any matter did import his presence.
+
+JOHN. We will ourselves step in and visit him.
+Mother and my good lords, will you attend us?
+
+PRIOR. I gladly will attend your majesty.
+
+JOHN. Now, good lord, help us! When I said good lords,
+I meant not you, Lord Prior: lord I know you are,
+But good, God knows, you never mean to be.
+
+            [_Exeunt_ JOHN, QUEEN, CHESTER, SALISBURY.
+
+PRIOR. John is incens'd; and very much, I doubt,
+That villain Warman hath accused me
+About the 'scape of Ely. Well, suppose he have,
+What's that to me? I am a clergyman,
+And all his power, if he all extend,
+Cannot prevail against my holy order.
+But the Archbishop's grace is now his friend,
+And may, perchance, attempt to do me ill.
+
+    _Enter a_ SERVING-MAN.
+
+What news with you, sir?
+
+SERV.-MAN. Even heavy news, my lord; for the lightning's[213] fire,
+Falling in manner of a firedrake[214]
+Upon a barn of yours, hath burnt six barns,
+And not a strike of corn reserv'd from dust.
+No hand could save it, yet ten thousand hands
+Laboured their best, though none for love of you;
+For every tongue with bitter cursing bann'd
+Your lordship, as the viper of the land.
+
+PRIOR. What meant the villains?
+
+SERV.-MAN. Thus and thus they cried:
+Upon this churl, this hoarder-up of corn,
+This spoiler of the Earl of Huntington,
+This lust-defiled, merciless, false prior,
+Heaven raineth vengeance down in shape of fire.
+Old wives, that scarce could with their crutches creep,
+And little babes, that newly learn'd to speak,
+Men masterless, that thorough want did weep,
+All in one voice, with a confused cry,
+In execrations bann'd you bitterly:
+Plague follow plague, they cry: he hath undone
+The good Lord Robert, Earl of Huntington.
+And then--
+
+PRIOR.[215] What then, thou villain? Get thee from my sight!
+They that wish plagues, plagues will upon them light.
+
+    _Enter another_ SERVANT.
+
+PRIOR. What are your tidings?
+
+SERV. The convent of St Mary's are agreed,
+And have elected in your lordship's place
+Old father Jerome, who is stall'd Lord Prior
+By the new Archbishop.
+
+PRIOR. Of York, thou mean'st?
+A vengeance on him! he is my hope's foe.
+
+    _Enter a_ HERALD.
+
+HER. Gilbert de Hood, late Prior of Saint Mary's,
+Our sovereign John commandeth thee by me,
+That presently thou leave this blessed land,
+Defiled with the burthen of thy sin.
+All thy goods temporal and spiritual,
+With free consent of Hubert Lord [of] York,
+Primate of England and thy ordinary,
+He hath suspended, and vowed by heaven
+To hang thee up, if thou depart not hence
+Without delaying or more question.
+And that he hath good reason for the same,
+He sends this writing 'firm'd with Warman's hand,
+And comes himself; whose presence if thou stay,
+I fear this sun will see thy dying day.
+
+PRIOR. O, Warman hath betray'd me! woe is me!
+
+    _Enter_ JOHN, QUEEN, CHESTER, SALISBURY.
+
+JOHN. Hence with that Prior! sirrah, do not speak:
+My eyes are full of wrath, my heart of wreak.[216]
+Let Leicester come: his haught heart, I am sure,
+Will check the kingly course we undertake.
+
+                              [_Exeunt cum_ PRIOR.
+
+    _Enter_ LEICESTER, _drum and ancient_.
+
+JOHN. Welcome from war, thrice noble Earl of Leicester,
+Unto our court: welcome, most valiant earl.
+
+LEI. Your court in England, and King Richard gone!
+A king in England, and the king from home!
+This sight and salutations are so strange,
+That what I should I know not how to speak.
+
+JOHN. What would you say? speak boldly, we entreat.
+
+LEI. It is not fear, but wonder, bars my speech.
+I muse to see a mother and a queen,
+Two peers so great as Salisbury and Chester,
+Sit and support proud usurpation,
+And see King Richard's crown worn by Earl John.
+
+QUEEN. He sits as viceroy and a[s] substitute.
+
+CHES. He must and shall resign, when Richard comes.
+
+SAL. Chester, he will, without your must and shall.
+
+LEI. Whether he will or no, he shall resign.
+
+JOHN. You know your own will, Leicester, but not mine.
+
+LEI. Tell me among ye, where is reverend Ely,
+Left by our dread king as his deputy?
+
+JOHN. Banish'd he is, as proud usurpers should.
+
+LEI. Pride then, belike, was enemy to pride:
+Ambition in yourself his state envied.
+Where is Fitzwater, that old honour'd lord?
+
+JOHN. Dishonour'd and exil'd, as Ely is.
+
+LEI. Exil'd he may be, but dishonour'd never!
+He was a fearless soldier and a virtuous scholar.
+But where is Huntington, that noble youth?
+
+CHES. Undone by riot.
+
+LEI. Ah! the greater ruth.
+
+JOHN. Leicester, you question more than doth become you.
+On to the purpose, why you come to us.
+
+LEI. I come to Ely and to all the state,
+Sent by the king, who three times sent before
+To have his ransom brought to Austria:
+And if you be elected deputy,
+Do as you ought, and send the ransom-money.
+
+JOHN. Leicester, you see I am no deputy;
+And Richard's ransom if you do require,
+Thus we make answer: Richard is a king,
+In Cyprus, Acon, Acre, and rich Palestine.
+To get those kingdoms England lent him men,
+And many a million of her substance spent,
+The very entrails of her womb were rent:
+No plough but paid a share, no needy hand,
+But from his poor estate of penury
+Unto his voyage offer'd more than mites,
+And more, poor souls, than they had might to spare.
+Yet were they joyful; for still flying news--
+And lying I perceive them now to be--
+Came of King Richard's glorious victories,
+His conquest of the Soldan,[217] and such tales
+As blew them up with hope, when he return'd,
+He would have scatter'd gold about the streets.
+
+LEI. Do princes fight for gold? O leaden thought!
+Your father knew that honour was the aim
+Kings level at. By sweet St John, I swear,
+You urge me so, that I cannot forbear.
+What do you tell of money lent the king,
+When first he went into this holy war,
+As if he had extorted from the poor,
+When you, the queen, and all that hear me speak,
+Know with what zeal the people gave their goods.
+Old wives took silver buckles from their belts;
+Young maids the gilt pins that tuck'd up their trains;
+Children their pretty whistles from their necks,
+And every man what he did most esteem,
+Crying to soldiers, "Wear these gifts of ours."
+This proves that Richard had no need to wrong,
+Or force the people, that with willing hearts
+Gave more than was desir'd. And where you say,
+You [do] guess Richard's victories but lies,
+I swear he wan rich Cyprus with his sword;
+And thence, more glorious than the guide of Greece,
+That brought so huge a fleet to Tenedos,
+He sail'd along the Mediterran sea,
+Where on a sunbright morning he did meet
+The warlike Soldan's[218] well-prepared fleet.
+O, still, methinks, I see King Richard stand
+In his gilt armour stain'd with Pagan's blood,
+Upon a galley's prow, like war's fierce god,
+And on his crest a crucifix of gold!
+O, that day's honour can be never told!
+Six times six several brigantines he boarded,
+And in the greedy waves flung wounded Turks;
+And three times thrice the winged galley's banks
+(Wherein the Soldan's son was admiral)
+In his own person royal Richard smooth'd,
+And left no heathen hand to be upheav'd
+Against the Christian soldiers.
+
+JOHN. Leicester, so?
+Did he all this?
+
+LEI. Ay, by God he did,
+And more than this: nay, jest [not] at it, John;
+I swear he did, by Leicester's faith he did,
+And made the green sea red with Pagan blood,
+Leading to Joppa glorious victory,
+And following fear, that fled unto the foe.
+
+JOHN. All this he did! perchance all this was so!
+
+LEI. Holy God, help me! soldiers, come away!
+This carpet-knight[219] sits carping at our scars,
+And jests at those most glorious, well-fought wars.
+
+JOHN. Leicester, you are too hot: stay; go not yet.
+Methinks, if Richard won those victories,
+The wealthy kingdoms he hath conquered
+May, better than poor England, pay his ransom.
+He left this realm, as a young orphan-maid,
+To Ely, the step-father of this state,
+That stripp'd the virgin to her very skin;
+And, Leicester, had not John more careful been
+Than Richard,
+At this hour England had not England been.
+Therefore, good warlike lord, take this in brief;
+We wish King Richard well, but can send no relief.
+
+LEI. O, let not my heart break with inward grief!
+
+JOHN. Yes, let it, Leicester: it is not amiss,
+That twenty such hearts break as your heart is.
+
+LEI. Are you a mother? were you England's queen?
+Were Henry, Richard, Geoffery, your sons?
+All sons but Richard--sun of all those sons
+And can you let this little meteor,
+This _ignis fatuus_, this same wandering fire,
+This goblin of the night, this brand, this spark,
+Seem through a lanthorn greater than he is?
+By heaven, you do not well: by earth, you do not?
+Chester, nor you, nor you, Earl Salisbury;
+Ye do not, no, ye do not what ye should.
+
+QUEEN. Were this bear loose, how he would tear our maws.
+
+CHES. Pale death and vengeance dwell within his jaws.
+
+SAL. But we can muzzle him, and bind his paws:
+If King John say we shall, we will indeed.
+
+JOHN. Do, if you can.
+
+LEI. It's well thou hast some fear.
+No, curs! ye have no teeth to bait this bear.[220]
+I will not bid mine ensign-bearer wave
+My tattered colours in this worthless air,
+Which your vile breaths vilely contaminate.
+Bearer,[221] thou'st been my ancient-bearer long,
+And borne up Leicester's bear in foreign lands;
+Yet now resign these colours to my hands,
+For I am full of grief and full of rage.
+John, look upon me: thus did Richard take
+The coward Austria's colours in his hand,
+And thus he cast them under Acon walls,
+And thus he trod them underneath his feet.
+Rich colours, how I wrong ye by this wrong!
+But I will right ye. Bear[er], take them again,
+And keep them ever, ever them maintain:
+We shall have use for them, I hope, ere long.
+
+JOHN. Dar'st thou attempt this proudly in our sight?
+
+LEI. What is't a subject dares, that I dare not?
+
+SAL. Dare subjects dare, their sovereign being by?
+
+LEI. O God, that my true sovereign were nigh!
+
+QUEEN. Leicester, he is.
+
+LEI. Madam, by God, you lie.
+
+CHES. Unmanner'd man.
+
+LEI. A plague of reverence,
+Where no regard is had of excellence.    [_Sound drum_.
+But you will quite[222] me now: I hear your drums:
+Your principality hath stirr'd up men,
+And now you think to muzzle up this bear.
+Still they come nearer, but are not the near.
+
+JOHN. What drums are these?
+
+SAL. I think, some friends of yours
+Prepare a power to resist this wrong.
+
+LEI. Let them prepare, for Leicester is prepar'd,
+And thus he wooes his willing men to fight.
+Soldiers,[223] ye see King Richard's open wrong;
+Richard, that led ye to the glorious East,
+And made ye tread upon the blessed land,
+Where he, that brought all Christians blessedness,
+Was born, lived, wrought his miracles, and died,
+From death arose, and then to heaven ascended;
+Whose true religious faith ye have defended.
+Ye fought, and Richard taught ye how to fight
+Against profane men, following Mahomet;
+But, if ye note, they did their kings their right:
+These more than heathen sacrilegious men,
+Professing Christ, banish Christ's champion hence,
+Their lawful lord, their home-born sovereign,
+With petty quarrels and with slight pretence.
+
+    _Enter_ RICHMOND, _Soldiers_.
+
+O, let me be as short as time is short,
+For the arm'd foe is now within our sight.
+Remember how 'gainst ten one man did fight,
+So hundreds against thousands have borne head!
+You are the men that ever conquered:
+If multitudes oppress ye that ye die,
+Let's sell our lives, and leave them valiantly.
+Courage! upon them! till we cannot stand.
+
+JOHN. Richmond is yonder.
+
+QUEEN. Ay, and, son, I think,
+The king is not far off.
+
+CHES. Now heaven forfend!
+
+LEI. Why smite ye not, but stand thus cowardly?
+
+RICH. If Richmond hurt good Leicester, let him die.
+
+LEI. Richmond! O, pardon mine offending eye,
+That took thee for a foe: welcome, dear friend!
+Where is my sovereign Richard? Thou and he
+Were both in Austria. Richmond, comfort me,
+And tell me where he is, and how he fares.
+O, for his ransom, many thousand cares
+Have me afflicted.
+
+RICH. Leicester, he is come to London,
+And will himself to faithless Austria,
+Like a true king, his promis'd ransom bear.
+
+LEI. At London, say'st thou, Richmond? is he there?
+Farewell: I will not stay to tell my wrongs
+To these pale-colour'd, heartless, guilty lords.
+Richmond, you shall go with me: do not stay,
+And I will tell you wonders by the way.
+
+RICH. The king did doubt you had some injury,
+And therefore sent this power to rescue ye.
+
+LEI. I thank his grace. Madam, adieu, adieu.
+I'll to your son, and leave your shade with you.
+
+                                        [_Exeunt_.
+
+JOHN. Hark how he mocks me, calling me your shade.
+Chester and Salisbury, shall we gather power,
+And keep what we have got?
+
+CHES. And in an hour
+Be taken, judg'd, and 'headed with disgrace.
+Salisbury, what say you?
+
+SAL. My lord, I bid your excellence adieu.
+I to King Richard will submit my knee:
+I have good hope his grace will pardon me.
+
+CHES. And, Salisbury, I'll go along with thee.
+Farewell, Queen Mother; fare you well, Lord John.
+
+JOHN. Mother, stay you.
+
+QUEEN. Not I, son, by Saint Anne.
+
+JOHN. Will you not stay?
+
+QUEEN. Go with me: I will do the best I may
+To beg my son's forgiveness of my son.    [_Exit_.
+
+JOHN. Go by yourself. By heaven, 'twas 'long of you
+I rose to fall so soon. Leicester and Richmond's crew,
+They come to take me: now too late I rue
+My proud attempt. Like falling Phaeton,
+I perish from my guiding of the sun.
+
+    _Enter again_ LEICESTER _and_ RICHMOND.[224]
+
+LEI. I will go back, i' faith, once more and see,
+Whether this mock king and the Mother Queen--
+And who--Here's neither queen nor lord!
+What, king of crickets, is there none but you?
+Come off, [this crown: this sceptre, off!][225]
+This crown, this sceptre are King Richard's right:
+Bear thou them, Richmond, thou art his true knight.
+You would not send his ransom, gentle John;
+He's come to fetch it now. Come, wily fox,
+Now you are stripp'd out of the lion's case,
+What, dare you look the lion in the face?
+The English lion, that in Austria
+With his strong hand pull'd out a lion's heart.
+Good Richmond, tell it me; for God's sake, do:
+O, it does me good to hear his glories told.
+
+RICH. Leicester, I saw King Richard with his fist
+Strike dead the son of Austrian Leopold,
+And then I saw him, by the duke's command,
+Compass'd and taken by a troop of men,
+Who led King Richard to a lion's den.
+Opening the door, and in a paved court,
+The cowards left King Richard weaponless:
+Anon comes forth the fire-eyed dreadful beast,
+And with a heart-amazing voice he roar'd,
+Opening (like hell) his iron-toothed jaws,
+And stretching out his fierce death-threatening paws.
+I tell thee, Leicester, and I smile thereat
+(Though then, God knows, I had no power to smile),
+I stood by treacherous Austria all the while,
+Who in a gallery with iron grates
+Stay'd to behold King Richard made a prey.
+
+LEI. What was't thou smiledst at in Austria?
+
+RICH. Leicester, he shook--so help me God, he shook--
+With very terror at the lion's look.
+
+LEI. Ah, coward! but go on, what Richard did.
+
+RICH. Richard about his right hand wound a scarf
+(God quite her for it) given him by a maid:
+With endless good may that good deed be paid!
+And thrust that arm down the devouring throat
+Of the fierce lion, and withdrawing it,
+Drew out the strong heart of the monstrous beast,
+And left the senseless body on the ground.
+
+LEI. O royal Richard: Richmond, look on John:
+Does he not quake in hearing this discourse?
+Come, we will leave him, Richmond: let us go.
+John, make suit
+For grace, that is your [only] means, you know.
+
+                                     [_Exeunt_.
+
+JOHN. A mischief on that Leicester! is he gone?
+'Twere best go too, lest in some mad fit
+He turn again, and lead me prisoner.
+Southward I dare not fly: fain, fain I would
+To Scotland bend my course; but all the woods
+Are full of outlaws, that in Kendal green
+Follow the outlaw'd Earl of Huntington.
+Well, I will clothe myself in such a suit,
+And by that means as well 'scape all pursuit,
+As pass the danger-threatening Huntington;
+For, having many outlaws, they'll think me
+By my attire one of their mates to be.
+
+                                     [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+SCENE 2.
+
+
+    _Enter_ SCARLET, LITTLE JOHN, _and_ FRIAR TUCK.
+
+FRIAR. Scarlet and John, so God me save,
+No mind unto my beads I have:
+I think it be a luckless day,
+For I can neither sing nor say;
+Nor have I any power to look
+On portace or on matin book.
+
+SCAR. What is the reason, tell us, Friar?
+
+FRIAR. And would ye have me be no liar?
+
+LIT. JOHN. No. God defend that you should lie:
+A churchman be a liar?--fie!
+
+FRIAR. Then, by this hallow'd crucifix,
+The holy water and the pix,
+It greatly at my stomach sticks,
+That all this day we had no gues',[226]
+And have of meat so many a mess.
+
+    MUCH _brings out_ ELY, _like a countryman with a basket_.
+
+MUCH. Well, and ye be but a market, ye are but a market-man.
+
+ELY. I am sure, sir, I do you no hurt, do I?
+
+SCAR. We shall have company, no doubt:
+My fellow Much hath found one out.
+
+FRIAR. A fox, a fox! as I am friar,
+Much is well worthy of good hire.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Say, Friar, soothly, know'st thou him!
+
+FRIAR. It is a wolf in a sheep's skin.
+Go, call our master, Little John;
+A glad man will he be anon.
+It's Ely, man, the chancellor.    [_Aside_.]
+
+LIT. JOHN. God's pity! look unto him, Friar.
+                 [_Aside. Exit_ LITTLE JOHN.
+
+MUCH. What, ha' ye eggs to sell, old fellow?
+
+ELY. Ay, sir, some few; and those my need constrains me bear to
+Mansfield, that I may sell them there to buy me bread.
+
+SCAR. Alas, good man! I prythee, where dost dwell?
+
+ELY. I dwell in Oxon, sir.
+
+SCAR. I know the town.
+
+MUCH. Alas, poor fellow! if thou dwell with oxen, it's strange they do
+not gore thee with their horns.
+
+ELY. Masters, I tell ye truly where I dwell,
+And whither I am going; let me go.
+Your master would be much displeas'd, I know,
+If he should hear you hinder poor men thus.
+
+FRIAR. Father, one word with you, before we part.
+
+MUCH. Scarlet, the Friar will make us have anger all.
+Farewell; and bear me witness, though I stay'd him,
+I stay'd him not. An old fellow and a market man!    [_Exit_.
+
+FRIAR. Whoop! in your riddles, Much? then we shall ha't.
+
+SCAR. What dost thou, Friar? prythee, let him go.
+
+FRIAR. I prythee, Scarlet, let us two alone.
+
+                                    [_Exit_ SCAR.
+
+ELY. Friar, I see thou know'st me: let me go,
+And many a good turn I to thee will owe.
+
+FRIAR. My master's service bids me answer no,
+Yet love of holy churchmen wills it so.
+Well, good my lord, I will do what I may
+To let your holiness escape away.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD _and_ LITTLE JOHN.[227]
+
+Here comes my master: if he question you,
+Answer him like a plain man, and you may pass.
+
+ELY. Thanks, Friar.
+
+FRIAR. O, my lord thinks me an ass.
+
+ROB. H. Friar, what honest man is there with thee?
+
+FRIAR. A silly man, good master. I will speak for you:
+Stand you aloof, for fear they note your face.    [_To_ ELY.
+
+        Master, in plain,
+        It were but in vain,
+        Long to detain
+        With toys or with babbles,
+        With fond, feigned fables;
+        But him that you see
+        In so mean degree
+        Is the Lord Ely,
+        That help'd to exile you,
+        That oft did revile you.
+        Though in his fall
+        His train be but small,
+        And no man at all
+        Will give him the wall,
+        Nor lord doth him call,
+        Yet he did ride,
+        On jennets pied,
+        And knights by his side
+        Did foot it each tide.
+        O, see the fall of pride.[228]
+
+ROB. H. Friar, enough.    [_Aside_.
+
+FRIAR. I pray, sir, let him go,
+He is a very simple man in show:
+He dwells at Oxon, and to us doth say,
+To Mansfield market he doth take his way.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Friar, this is not Mansfield market-day.
+
+ROB. H. What would he sell?
+
+FRIAR. Eggs, sir, as he says.
+
+ROB. H. Scarlet, go thy ways:
+Take in this old man, fill his skin with venison,
+And after give him money for his eggs.
+
+ELY. No, sir, I thank you, I have promis'd them
+To Master Bailey's wife, of Mansfield, all.
+
+ROB. H. Nay, sir, you do me wrong:
+No Bailey nor his wife shall have an egg.
+Scarlet, I say, take his eggs, and give him money.
+
+ELY. Pray, sir.
+
+FRIAR. Tush, let him have your eggs.
+
+ELY. Faith, I have none.
+
+FRIAR. God's pity, then, he will find you some.[229]
+
+SCAR. Here are no eggs, nor anything but hay.
+Yes, by the mass, here's somewhat like a seal!
+
+ROB. H. O God!
+My prince's seal! fair England's royal seal!
+Tell me, thou man of death, thou wicked man,
+How cam'st thou by this seal? wilt thou not speak?
+Bring burning irons! I will make him speak.
+For I do know the poor distressed lord,
+The king's vicegerent, learned, reverend Ely,
+Flying the fury of ambitious John,
+Is murder'd by this peasant. Speak, vile man,
+Where thou hast done thrice honourable Ely!
+
+ELY. Why dost thou grace Ely with styles of grace,
+Who thee with all his power sought to disgrace?
+
+ROB. H. Belike, his wisdom saw some fault in me.
+
+ELY. No, I assure thee, honourable earl;
+It was his envy, no defect of thine,
+And the persuasions of the Prior of York,
+Which Ely now repents. See, Huntington,
+Ely himself, and pity him, good son.
+
+ROB. H. Alas, for woe! alack, that so great state
+The malice of this world should ruinate!
+Come in, great lord, sit down and take thy ease,
+Receive the seal, and pardon my offence.
+With me you shall be safe, and if you please,
+Till Richard come, from all men's violence.
+Aged Fitzwater, banished by John,
+And his fair daughter shall converse with you:
+I and my men that me attend upon
+Shall give you all that is to honour due.
+Will you accept my service, noble lord?
+
+ELY. Thy kindness drives me to such inward shame,
+That, for my life, I no reply can frame.
+Go; I will follow. Blessed may'st thou be,
+That thus reliev'st thy foes in misery!
+
+                                        [_Exeunt_.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Skelton, a word or two beside the play.
+
+FRIAR. Now, Sir John Eltham, what is't you would say?
+
+LIT. JOHN. Methinks, I see no jests of Robin Hood,
+No merry morrices of Friar Tuck,
+No pleasant skippings up and down the wood,
+No hunting-songs, no coursing of the buck.
+Pray God this play of ours may have good luck,
+And the king's majesty mislike it not.
+
+FRIAR. And if he do, what can we do to that?
+I promis'd him a play of Robin Hood,
+His honourable life in merry Sherwood.
+His majesty himself survey'd the plot,
+And bad me boldly write it; it was good.
+For merry jests they have been shown before,
+As how the friar fell into the well
+For love of Jenny, that fair bonny belle;
+How Greenleaf robb'd the Shrieve of Nottingham,
+And other mirthful matter full of game.[230]
+Our play expresses noble Robert's wrong;
+His mild forgetting treacherous injury:
+The abbot's malice, rak'd in cinders long,
+Breaks out at last with Robin's tragedy.
+If these, that hear the history rehears'd,
+Condemn my play, when it begins to spring,
+I'll let it wither, while it is a bud,
+And never show the flower to the king.
+
+LIT. JOHN. One thing beside: you fall into your vein
+Of ribble-rabble rhymes Skeltonical,
+So oft, and stand so long, that you offend.
+
+FRIAR. It is a fault I hardly can amend.
+O, how I champ my tongue to talk these terms!
+I do forget ofttimes my friar's part;
+But pull me by the sleeve when I exceed,
+And you shall see me mend that fault indeed.
+
+        Wherefore, still sit you,
+        Doth Skelton entreat you
+        While he _facete_
+        Will briefly repeat ye
+        The history all
+        And tale tragical,
+        By whose treachery
+        And base injury
+        Robin the good,
+        Call'd Robin Hood,
+        Died in Sherwood.
+        Which till you see,
+        Be ruled by me:
+        Sit patiently,
+        And give a plaudite,
+        If anything please ye.
+
+                     [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT V., SCENE 1.
+
+
+    _Enter_ WARMAN.
+
+WAR. Banish'd from all, of all I am bereft!
+No more than what I wear unto me left.
+O wretched, wretched grief, desertful fall!
+Striving to get all, I am reft of all.
+Yet if I could awhile myself relieve,
+Till Ely be in some place settled,
+A double restitution should I get,
+And these sharp sorrows, that have joy suppress'd,
+Should turn to joy with double interest.
+
+    _Enter a_ GENTLEMAN, _Warman's Cousin_.
+
+And in good time, here comes my cousin Warman,
+Whom I have often pleasur'd in my time.
+His house at Bingham I bestow'd on him,
+And therefore doubt not, he will give me house-room.
+Good even, cousin.
+
+COU. O cousin Warman, what good news with you?
+
+WAR. Whither so far a-foot walk you in Sherwood?
+
+COU. I came from Rotherham; and by hither Farnsfield
+My horse did tire, and I walk'd home a-foot.
+
+WAR. I do beseech you, cousin, at some friend's,
+Or at your own house, for a week or two
+Give me some succour.
+
+COU. Ha! succour, say you? No, sir:
+I heard at Mansfield how the matter stands;
+How you have justly lost your goods and lands,
+And that the prince's indignation
+Will fall on any that relieves your state.
+Away from me! your treacheries I hate.
+You, when your noble master was undone,
+(That honourable-minded Huntington),
+Who forwarder than you all to distrain?
+And, as a wolf that chaseth on the plain
+The harmless hind, so wolf-like you pursued
+Him and his servants. Vile ingratitude,
+Damn'd Judasism,[231] false wrong, abhorred treachery,
+Impious wickedness, wicked impiety!
+Out, out upon thee! foh, I spit at thee!
+
+WAR. Good cousin.
+
+COU. Away! I'll spurn thee if thou follow me.
+                                       [_Exit_.
+
+WAR. O just heaven, how thou plagu'st iniquity!
+All that he has my hand on him bestowed.
+My master gave me all I ever owed,
+My master I abus'd in his distress;
+In mine my kinsman leaves me comfortless.
+
+    _Enter_ JAILER _of Nottingham, leading a dog_.
+
+Here comes another; one that yesterday
+Was at my service, came when I did call,
+And him I made jailer of Nottingham.
+Perchance some pity dwells within the man;
+Jailer, well met; dost thou not know me, man?
+
+JAI. Yes, thou art Warman; every knave knows thee.
+
+WAR. Thou know'st I was thy master yesterday.
+
+JAI. Ay, but 'tis not as it was: farewell; go by.
+
+WAR. Good George, relieve my bitter misery.
+
+JAI. By this flesh and blood, I will not.
+No, if I do, the devil take me quick.
+I have no money, beggar: balk the way!
+
+WAR. I do not ask thee money.
+
+JAI. Wouldst ha' meat?
+
+WAR. Would God I had a little bread to eat.
+
+JAI. Soft, let me feel my bag. O, here is meat,
+That I put up at Retford for my dog:
+I care not greatly if I give thee[232] this.
+
+WAR. I prythee, do.
+
+JAI.[233] Yet let me search my conscience for it first:
+My dog's my servant, faithful, trusty, true;
+But Warman was a traitor to his lord,
+A reprobate, a rascal and a Jew,
+Worser than dogs, of men to be abhorr'd!
+Starve, therefore, Warman; dog, receive thy due.
+Follow me not, lest I belabour you,
+You half-fac'd groat, you thick-cheek'd chittyface;
+You Judas-villain! you that have undone
+The honourable Robert Earl of Huntington.    [_Exit_.
+
+WAR. Worse than a dog the villain me respects,
+His dog he feeds, me in my need rejects.
+What shall I do? yonder I see a shed,
+A little cottage, where a woman dwells,
+Whose husband I from death delivered:
+If she deny me, then I faint and die.
+Ho! goodwife Thompson!
+
+WOM. What a noise is there?
+A foul shame on ye! is it you that knock'd?
+
+WAR. What, do you know me then?
+
+WOM. Whoop! who knows not you?
+The beggar'd, banish'd Shrieve of Nottingham,
+You that betray'd your master: is't not you?
+Yes, a shame on you! and forsooth ye come,
+To have some succour here, because you sav'd
+My unthrift husband from the gallow-tree.
+A pox upon you both! would both for me
+Were hang'd together. But soft, let me see;
+The man looks faint: feel'st thou indeed distress?
+
+WAR. O, do not mock me in my heaviness.
+
+WOM. Indeed, I do not. Well, I have within
+A caudle made, I will go fetch it him.    [_Exit_.
+
+WAR. O blessed woman! comfortable word!
+Be quiet, entrails, you shall be reliev'd.
+
+    _Enter_ WOMAN.[234]
+
+WOM. Here, Warman, put this hempen caudle o'er thy head.
+See downward yonder is thy master's walk;
+And like a Judas, on some rotten tree,
+Hang up this rotten trunk of misery,
+That goers-by thy wretched end may see.
+Stirr'st thou not, villain? get thee from my door;
+A plague upon thee, haste and hang thyself.
+Run, rogue, away! 'tis thou that hast undone
+Thy noble master, Earl of Huntington.
+                                     [_Exit_.
+
+WAR. Good counsel and good comfort, by my faith.
+Three doctors are of one opinion,
+That Warman must make speed to hang himself.
+The last hath given a caudle comfortable,
+That to recure my griefs is strong and able:
+I'll take her medicine, and I'll choose this way,
+Wherein, she saith, my master hath his walk;
+There will I offer life for treachery,
+And hang, a wonder to all goers-by.
+But soft! what sound harmonious is this?
+What birds are these, that sing so cheerfully,
+As if they did salute the flowering spring?
+Fitter it were with tunes more dolefully
+They shriek'd out sorrow, than thus cheerly sing.
+I will go seek sad desperation's cell;
+This is not it, for here are green-leav'd trees.
+Ah, for one winter-bitten bared bough,
+Whereon a wretched life a wretch would lese.
+O, here is one! Thrice-blessed be this tree,
+If a man cursed may a blessing give.
+
+    _Enter_ OLD FITZWATER.
+
+But out, alas! yonder comes one to me
+To hinder death, when I detest to live.
+
+FITZ. What woful voice hear I within this wood?
+What wretch is there complains of wretchedness?
+
+WAR. A man, old man, bereav'd of all earth's good,
+And desperately seeks death in this distress.
+
+FITZ. Seek not for that which will be here too soon,
+At least, if thou be guilty of ill-deeds.
+Where art thou, son? come, and nearer sit:
+Hear wholesome counsel 'gainst unhallow'd thoughts.
+
+WAR. The man is blind. Muffle the eye of day,
+Ye gloomy clouds (and darker than my deeds,
+That darker be than pitchy sable night)
+Muster together on these high-topp'd trees,
+That not a spark of light thorough their sprays
+May hinder what I mean to execute.
+
+FITZ. What dost thou mutter? Hear me woful man.
+
+    _Enter_ MARIAN _with meat_.
+
+MAR. Good morrow, father.
+
+FITZ. Welcome, lovely maid;
+And in good time, I trust, you hither come.
+Look if you see not a distressful man,
+That to himself intendeth violence:
+One such even now was here, and is not far.
+Seek, I beseech you; save him, if you may.
+
+MAR. Alas! here is, here is a man enrag'd,
+Fastening a halter on a wither'd bough,
+And stares upon me with such frighted looks,
+As I am fearful of his sharp aspect.
+
+FITZ. What mean'st thou, wretch? say, what is't thou wilt do?
+
+WAR. As Judas did, so I intend to do,
+For I have done already as he did:
+His master he betray'd, so I have mine.
+Fair mistress, look not on me with your blessed eyne:
+From them, as from some excellence divine,
+Sparkles sharp judgment, and commands with speed.
+Fair, fare you well: foul fortune is my fate;
+As all betrayers, I die desperate.
+
+FITZ. Soft, ho! Go, Marian, call in Robin Hood:
+'Tis Warman, woman, that was once his steward.
+
+MAR. Alas! although it be, yet save his life!
+I will send help unto you presently.     [_Exit_.
+
+FITZ. Nay, Warman, stay; thou shalt have thy will.
+
+WAR. Art thou a blind man, and canst see my shame?
+To hinder treachers God restoreth sight,
+And giveth infants tongues to cry aloud
+A woful woe against the treacherous.
+
+    _Enter_ MUCH, _running_.
+
+MUCH. Hold, hold, hold! I hear say my fellow Warman is about to hang
+himself, and make I some speed to save him a labour. O good master,
+Justice Shrieve, have you execution in hand, and is there such a
+murrain among thieves and hangmen, that you play two parts in one? For
+old acquaintance, I will play one part. The knot under the ear, the
+knitting to the tree: Good Master Warman, leave that work for me.
+
+WAR. Despatch me, Much, and I will pray for thee.
+
+MUCH. Nay, keep your prayers, nobody sees us.
+                   [_He takes the rope, and offers to climb_.
+
+FITZ. Down, sirrah, down! whither, a knave's name, climb you?
+
+MUCH. A plague on ye for a blind sinksanker![235] would I were your
+match. You are much blind, i'faith, can hit so right.
+
+    _Enter_ LITTLE JOHN.
+
+LIT. JOHN. What, Master Warman, are ye come to yield
+A true account for your false stewardship?
+
+    _Enter_ SCARLET _and_ SCATHLOCK.
+
+SCATH. Much, if thou mean'st to get a hundred pound,
+Present us to the Shrieve of Nottingham.
+
+MUCH. Mass, I think there was such proclamation.
+Come, my small fellow John,
+You shall have half, and therefore bring in one.
+
+LIT. JOHN. No, my big fellow, honest Master Much,
+Take all unto yourself: I'll be no half.
+
+MUCH. Then stand: you shall be the two thieves, and I'll be the
+presenter.
+O Master Shrieve of Nottingham,
+When ears unto my tidings came,[236]
+(I'll speak in prose, I miss this verse vilely) that Scathlock and
+Scarlet were arrested by Robin Hood, my master, and Little John, my
+fellow, and Much, his servant, and taken from you, Master Shrieve,
+being well forward in the hanging way, wherein ye now are (and God keep
+ye in the same), and also that you, Master Shrieve, would give any man
+in town, city, or country a hundred pound of lawful arrant[237] money
+of England, that would bring the same two thieves, being these two; now
+I, the said Much, challenge of you the said Shrieve, bringing them, the
+same money.
+
+SCAR. Faith, he cannot pay thee, Much.
+
+MUCH. Ay, but while this end is in my hand, and that about his neck,
+he is bound to it.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN, ELY, MARIAN.
+
+WAR. Mock on, mock on: make me your jesting game.
+I do deserve much more than this small shame.
+
+ROB. H. Disconsolate and poor dejected man,
+Cast from thy neck that shameful sign of death,
+And live for me, if thou amend thy life,
+As much in favour as thou ever didst.
+
+WAR. O, worse than any death,
+When a man wrong'd his wronger pitieth!
+
+ELY. Warman, be comforted, rise and amend:
+On my word, Robin Hood will be thy friend.
+
+ROB. H. I will indeed: go in, heart-broken man.
+Father Fitzwater, pray lead him in.
+Kind Marian, with sweet comforts comfort him,
+And my tall yeomen, as you me affect,
+Upbraid him not with his forepassed life.
+Warman, go in; go in and comfort thee.
+
+WAR. O, God requite your honour's courtesy.
+
+MAR. Scathlock or Scarlet, help us, some of ye.
+
+    [_Exeunt_ WARMAN, MARIAN, FITZWATER, SCATHLOCK, SCARLET, MUCH.
+
+    _Enter_ FRIAR TUCK _in his truss, without his weed_.
+
+FRIAR. Jesu benedicite!
+       Pity on pity,
+       Mercy on mercy,
+       Misery on misery!
+       O, such a sight,
+       As by this light,
+       Doth me affright?
+
+ROB. H. Tell us the matter, prythee, holy Friar.
+
+FRIAR. Sir Doncaster the priest and the proud Prior
+Are stripp'd and wounded in the way to Bawtrey,
+And if there go not speedy remedy,
+They'll die, they'll die in this extremity.
+
+ROB. H. Alas! direct us to that wretched place:
+I love mine uncle, though he hateth me.
+
+FRIAR. My weed I cast to keep them from the cold,
+And Jenny, gentle girl, tore all her smock
+The bloody issue of their wounds to stop.
+
+ROB. H. Will you go with us, my good Lord of Ely?
+
+ELY. I will, and ever praise thy perfect charity.
+
+                                        [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Enter_ PRINCE JOHN _solus, in green: with bow and arrows_.
+
+JOHN. Why, this is somewhat like: now may I sing,
+As did the Wakefield Pinder in his note--
+
+    _At Michaelmas cometh my covenant out,
+      My master gives me my fee:
+    Then, Robin, I'll wear thy Kendal green,
+      And wend to the greenwood with thee_.[238]
+
+But for a name now: John it must not be,
+Already Little John on him attends:
+Greenleaf? Nay, surely there's such a one already:
+Well, I'll be Woodnet, hap what happen may.
+
+    _Enter_ SCATHLOCK.
+
+Here comes a green coat (good luck be my guide)
+Some sudden shift might help me to provide.
+
+SCATH. What, fellow William, did you meet our master?
+
+JOHN. I did not meet him yet, my honest friend.
+
+SCATH. My honest friend! why, what a term is here?
+My name is Scathlock, man, and if thou be
+No other than thy garments show to me,
+Thou art my fellow, though I know thee not.
+What is thy name? When wert thou entertain'd?
+
+JOHN. My name is Woodnet; and this very day
+My noble master, Earl of Huntington,
+Did give me both my fee and livery.
+
+SCATH. Your noble master, Earl of Huntington!
+I'll lay a crown you are a counterfeit,
+And that, you know, lacks money of a noble.
+Did you receive your livery and fee,
+And never heard our orders read unto you?
+What was the oath was given you by the Friar?
+
+JOHN. Who?--Friar Tuck?
+
+SCATH. Ay, do not play the liar,
+For he comes here himself to shrive.
+
+    _Enter_ FRIAR TUCK.
+
+JOHN. Scathlock, farewell; I will away.
+
+SCATH. See you this arrow? it says nay.
+Through both your sides shall fly this feather,
+If presently you come not hither.
+
+FRIAR. Now heaven's true liberality
+Fall ever for his charity
+Upon the head of Robin Hood,
+That to his very foes doth good.
+Lord God! how he laments the Prior,
+And bathes his wounds against the fire.
+Fair Marian, God requite it her,
+Doth even as much for Doncaster,
+Whom newly she hath lain in bed,
+To rest his weary, wounded head.
+
+SCATH. Ho! Friar Tuck, know you this mate?
+
+FRIAR. What's he?
+
+SCATH. He says my master late
+Gave him his fee and livery.
+
+FRIAR. It is a leasing, credit me.
+How chance, sir, then you were not sworn?
+
+JOHN. What mean this groom and lozel friar,
+So strictly matters to inquire?
+Had I a sword and buckler here,
+You should aby these questions dear.
+
+FRIAR. Say'st thou me so, lad? lend him thine,
+For in this bush here lieth mine.
+Now will I try this new-come guest.
+
+SCATH. I am his first man, Friar Tuck,
+And if I fail, and have no luck,
+Then thou with him shalt have a pluck.
+
+FRIAR. Be it so, Scathlock. Hold thee, lad,
+No better weapons can be had:
+The dew doth them a little rust;
+But, hear ye, they are tools of trust.[239]
+
+JOHN. Gramercy, Friar, for this gift,
+And if thou come unto my shrift,
+I'll make thee call those fellows fools
+That on their foes bestow such tools.
+
+SCATH. Come, let's to't.
+
+        [_Fight, and the_ FRIAR _looks on_.
+
+FRIAR. The youth is deliver[240] and light,
+He presseth Scathlock with his might:
+Now, by my beads, to do him right,
+I think he be some tried knight.
+
+SCATH. Stay, let us breathe!
+
+JOHN. I will not stay;
+If you leave, Friar, come away.
+
+SCATH. I prythee, Friar, hold him play.
+
+FRIAR. Friar Tuck will do the best he may.
+
+                                 [_Fight_.
+
+    _Enter_ MARIAN.
+
+MAR. Why, what a noise of swords is here!
+Fellows, and fight our bower so near?
+
+SCATH. Mistress, he is no man of yours,
+That fights so fast with Friar Tuck;
+But, on my word, he is a man
+As good for strength as any can.
+
+MAR. Indeed, he's more than common men can be;
+In his high heart there dwells the blood of kings.
+Go call my Robin, Scathlock: [_Aside_] 'tis Prince John.
+
+SCATH. Mistress, I will: I pray [thee] part the fray.    [_Exit_.
+
+MAR. I prythee go, I will do what I may.
+Friar, I charge thee hold thy hand.
+
+FRIAR. Nay, younker, to your tackling stand.
+What, all amort,[241] will you not fight?
+
+JOHN. I yield, unconquer'd by thy might,
+But by Matilda's glorious sight.
+
+FRIAR. Mistress, he knows you: what is he?
+
+JOHN. Like to amazing wonder she appears,
+And from her eye flies love unto my heart,
+Attended by suspicious thoughts and fears
+That numb the vigour of each outward part.
+Only my sight hath all satiety
+And fulness of delight, viewing her deity.
+
+MAR. But I have no delight in you, Prince John.
+
+FRIAR. Is this Prince John?
+Give me thy hand, thou art a proper man:
+And for this morning's work, by saints above,
+Be ever sure of Friar Tuck's true love.
+
+JOHN. Be not offended that I touch thy shrine;
+Make this hand happy: let it fold in thine.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD, FITZWATER, ELY, WARMAN.
+
+ROB. H. What saucy woodman, Marian, stands so near?
+
+JOHN. A woodman, Robin, that would strike your deer
+With all his heart. Nay, never look so strange,
+You see this fickle world is full of change:
+John is a ranger, man, compell'd to range.
+
+FITZ. You are young, wild lord, and well may travel bear.
+
+JOHN. What, my old friend Fitzwater, are you there?
+And you, Lord Ely? and old best-betruss'd?[242]
+Then I perceive that to this gear we must.
+A mess of my good friends! which of you four
+Will purchase thanks by yielding to the king
+The body of the rash, rebellious John?
+Will you, Fitzwater?
+
+FITZ. No, John, I defy[243]
+To stain my old hands in thy youthful blood.
+
+JOHN. You will, Lord Ely; I am sure you will.
+
+ELY. Be sure, young man, my age means thee no ill.
+
+JOHN. O, you will have the praise, brave Robin Hood.
+The lusty outlaw, lord of this large wood:
+He'll lead a king's son prisoner to a king,
+And bid the brother smite the brother dead.
+
+ROB. H. My purpose you have much misconstrued:
+Prince John, I would not for the wide world's wealth
+Incense his majesty, but do my best
+To mitigate his wrath, if he be mov'd.
+
+JOHN. Will none of you? then, here's one I dare say,
+That from his childhood knows how to betray:
+Warman, will you not help to hinder all you may?
+
+WAR. With what I have been, twit me not, my lord:
+My old sins at my soul I do detest.
+
+JOHN. Then, that he came this way Prince John was blest.
+Forgive me, Ely; pardon me, Fitzwater:
+And Robin, to thy hands myself I yield.
+
+ROB. H. And as my heart from hurt I will thee shield.
+
+    _Enter_ MUCH, _running_.
+
+MUCH. Master, fly! hide ye, mistress! we all shall be taken.
+
+ROB. H. Why, what's the matter?
+
+MUCH. The king! the king! and twelve and twenty score of horses.
+
+ROB. H. Peace, fool! we have no cause from him to fly.
+
+    _Enter_ SCARLET, LITTLE JOHN.
+
+LIT. JOHN. Scarlet and I were hunting on the plain;
+To us came royal Richard from his train,
+For a great train of his is hard at hand,
+And questioned us if we serv'd Robin Hood?
+I said we did; and then his majesty,
+Putting this massy chain about my neck,
+Said what I shame to say, but joy'd to hear.
+Let Scarlet tell it, it befits not me.
+
+SCAR. Quoth our good king, Thy name is Little John,
+And thou hast long time serv'd Earl Huntington:
+Because thou left'st him not in misery,
+A hundred marks I give thee yearly fee,
+And from henceforth thou shalt a squire be.
+
+MUCH. O lord, what luck had I to run away!
+I should have been made a knight or a lady, sure.
+
+SCAR. Go, said the king, and to your master say,
+Richard is come to call him to the court,
+And with his kingly presence chase the clouds
+Of grief and sorrow, that in misty shades
+Have veil'd the honour of Earl Huntington.
+
+ROB. H. Now God preserve him! hie you back again,
+And guide him, lest in bypaths he mistake.
+Much, fetch a richer garment for my father;
+Good Friar Tuck, I prythee rouse thy wits:
+Warman, visit mine uncle and Sir Doncaster,
+See if they can come forth to grace our show.
+God's pity, Marian, let your Jenny wait.
+Thanks, my lord chancellor, you are well prepar'd;
+And, good Prince John, since you are all in green,
+Disdain not to attend on Robin Hood:
+Frolic, I pray; I trust to do ye good.
+
+    _Enter_ PRIOR _and_ SIR DONCASTER.[244]
+
+Welcome, good uncle, welcome, Sir Doncaster.
+Say, will ye sit; I fear ye cannot stand.
+
+PRIOR. Yes, very well.
+
+ROB. H. Why, cheerly, cheerly then.
+The trumpet sounds, the king is now at hand:
+Lords, yeomen, maids, in decent order stand.
+
+    _The trumpets sound the while_ ROBIN HOOD _places them.
+    Enter first, bareheaded_, LITTLE JOHN _and_ SCARLET;
+    _likewise_ CHESTER _and_ LEICESTER, _bearing the sword
+    and sceptre; the_ KING _follows, crowned, clad in green;
+    after him_ QUEEN MOTHER; _after her_ SALISBURY _and_
+    RICHMOND. SCARLET _and_ SCATHLOCK _turn to_ ROBIN HOOD,
+    _who with all his company kneel down and cry_--
+
+ALL. God save King Richard! Lord preserve your grace!
+
+KING. Thanks all; but chiefly, Huntington, to thee.
+Arise, poor earl; stand up, my late-lost son.
+And on thy shoulders let me rest my arms,
+That have been toiled long with heathen wars.
+True pillar of my state, right lord indeed,
+Whose honour shineth in the den of need,
+I am even full of joy and full of woe,
+To see thee, glad; but sad to see thee so.
+
+ROB. H. O, that I could pour out my soul in prayers,
+And praises for this kingly courtesy!
+Do not, dread lord, grieve at my low estate:
+Never so rich, never so fortunate,
+Was Huntington as now himself he finds;
+And to approve it, may it please your grace,
+But to accept such presents at the hand
+Of your poor servant as he hath prepar'd.
+You shall perceive the Emperor of the East,
+Whom you contended with at Babylon,
+Had not such presents to present you with.
+
+KING. Art thou so rich? swift,[245] let me see thy gifts.
+
+ROB. H. First, take again this jewel you had lost,
+Aged Fitzwater, banished by John.
+
+KING. A gem indeed! no prince hath such a one.
+Good, good old man, as welcome unto me
+As cool fresh air in heat's extremity.
+
+FITZ. And I as glad to kiss my sovereign's hand,
+As the wreck'd swimmer, when he feels the land.
+
+QUEEN. Welcome, Fitzwater, I am glad to see you.
+
+FITZ. I thank your grace: but let me hug these twain,
+Leicester and Richmond, Christ's sworn champions,
+That follow'd Richard in his holy war.
+
+RICH. Noble Fitzwater, thanks, and welcome both.
+
+LEI. O God, how glad I am to see this lord!
+I cannot speak, but welcome at a word.
+
+ROB. H. Next, take good Ely in your royal hands,
+Who fled from death and most uncivil bonds.
+
+KING. Robin, thy gifts exceed. Morton, my chancellor!
+In this man giv'st thou holiness and honour.
+
+ELY. Indeed he gives me, and he gave me life,
+Preserving me from fierce pursuing foes.
+When I, to blame, had wrought him many woes.
+With me he likewise did preserve this seal,
+Which I surrender to your majesty.
+
+KING. Keep it, good Ely, keep it still for me.
+
+ROB. H. The next fair jewel that I will present
+Is richer than both these; yet in the foil,
+My gracious lord, it hath a foul default
+Which if you pardon, boldly I protest,
+It will in value far exceed the rest.
+
+JOHN. That's me he means; i'faith, my turn is next.
+He calls me foil: i'faith, I fear a foil.
+Well, 'tis a mad lord, this same Huntington.    [_Aside_.
+
+ROB. H. Here is Prince John, your brother, whose revolt
+And folly in your absence, let me crave,
+With his submission may be buried;
+For he is now no more the man he was,
+But dutiful in all respects to you.
+
+KING. Pray God it prove so. Well, good Huntington,
+For thy sake pardon'd is our brother John,
+And welcome to us in all hearty love.
+
+ROB. H. This last I give, as tenants do their lands,
+With a surrender to receive again
+The same into their own possession;
+No Marian, but Fitzwater's chaste Matilda:
+The precious jewel, that poor Huntington
+Doth in this world hold as his best esteem.
+Although with one hand I surrender her,
+I hold the other, as one looking still
+Richard return her: so I hope he will.
+
+KING. Else God forbid. Receive thy Marian back,
+And never may your love be separate,
+But flourish fairly to the utmost date.
+
+ROB. H. Now please my king to enter Robin's bower,
+And take such homely welcome as he finds,
+It shall be reckon'd as my happiness.
+
+KING. With all my heart. Then, as combined friends,
+Go we together: here all quarrel ends.
+
+                            [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Manent_ SIR JOHN ELTHAM _and_ SKELTON.
+
+SIR JOHN. Then, Skelton, here I see you will conclude.
+
+SKEL. And reason good: have we not held too long?
+
+SIR JOHN. No, in good sadness, I dare gage my life,
+His highness will accept it very kindly:
+But, I assure you, he expects withal
+To see the other matters tragical,
+That follow in the process of the story.
+Wherein are many a sad accident,
+Able to make the stoutest mind relent:
+I need not name the points, you know them all!
+From Marian's eye shall not one tear be shed?
+Skelton, i' faith, 'tis not the fashion.
+The king must grieve, the queen must take it ill:
+Ely must mourn, aged Fitzwater weep,
+Prince John, the lords, his yeomen must lament,
+And wring their woful hands for Robin's woe.
+Then must the sick man, fainting by degrees,
+Speak hollow words, and yield his Marian,
+Chaste maid Matilda, to her father's hands;
+And give her, with King Richard's full consent,
+His lands, his goods, late seiz'd on by the Prior,
+Now by the Prior's treason made the king's.
+Skelton, there are a many other things,
+That ask long time to tell them lineally;
+But ten times longer will the action be.
+
+SKEL. Sir John, i' faith, I know not what to do,
+And I confess that all you say is true.
+Will you do one thing for me? Crave the king
+To see two parts: say, 'tis a pretty thing.
+I know you can do much; if you excuse me,
+While Skelton lives, Sir John, be bold to use me.
+
+SIR JOHN. I will persuade the king; but how can you
+Persuade all these beholders to content?
+
+SKEL. Stay, Sir John Eltham: what to them I say,
+Deliver to the king from me, I pray.
+Well-judging hearers, for a while suspend
+Your censures of this play's unfinish'd end,
+And Skelton promises for this offence
+The second part shall presently be penn'd.
+There shall you see, as late my friend did note,
+King Richard's revels at Earl Robert's bower;
+The purpos'd mirth and the performed moan;
+The death of Robin and his murderers.
+For interest of your stay, this will I add:
+King Richard's voyage back to Austria,
+The swift-returned tidings of his death,
+The manner of his royal funeral.[246]
+Then John shall be a lawful crowned king,
+But to Matilda bear unlawful love.
+Aged Fitzwater's final banishment;
+His piteous end, of power tears to move
+From marble pillars. The catastrophe
+Shall show you fair Matilda's tragedy,
+Who (shunning John's pursuit) became a nun,
+At Dunmow[247] Abbey, where she constantly
+Chose death to save her spotless chastity.
+Take but my word, and if I fail in this,
+Then let my pains be baffled with a hiss.
+
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+_EDITION_.
+
+
+_The Death of Robert Earle of Huntington. Otherwise called Robin Hood of
+merrie Sherwodde: with the lamentable Tragedie of chaste Matilda, his
+faire maid Marian, poysoned at Dunmowe by King Iohn. Acted by the Right
+Honourable the Earle of Notingham, Lord high Admirall of England, his
+seruants. Imprinted at London, for William Leake_ 1601. 4to. B.L.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+Henry Chettle, who certainly joined Anthony Munday in writing "The Death
+of Robert Earl of Huntington,"[248] if he did not also assist in penning
+"The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington," was a very prolific
+dramatic author. Malone erroneously states that he was the writer of, or
+was concerned in, thirty plays; according to information which he
+himself furnishes, forty-two are, either wholly or in part, to be
+assigned to Chettle. The titles of only twenty-five are inserted in the
+"Biographia Dramatica." The proof of his connection with the historical
+play now reprinted has been already supplied,[249] and it is derived
+from the same source as nearly all the rest of the intelligence
+regarding his works--the MSS. of Henslowe.
+
+Of the incidents of the life of Henry Chettle absolutely nothing is
+known: we are ignorant of the times and places of his birth and death,
+and of the manner in which he obtained his education. It has been
+conjectured that he either was, or had been, a printer, but the point
+is very doubtful.[250] In a tract by him, called "England's Mourning
+Garment," on the death of Queen Elizabeth, he speaks of himself as
+having been "young almost thirty years ago," and as having been a
+witness of what passed at that period in the Court. If Ritson's
+conjecture [had been] well-founded, he [might have been admitted as]
+an author as early as 1578;[251] but the poetical tract assigned to
+him [under that date was the work of some other writer with the same
+initials, whose name is not known.]
+
+The first account we have of Chettle in connection with the stage is
+under date of April 1599,[252] when, according to Henslowe, he was
+engaged with Dekker in writing a play called "Troilus and Cressida;" but
+there is good reason to infer, that if in 1603 he were "young almost
+thirty years ago," he had written for the theatre before 1599. Besides,
+in his "Kind Hartes Dreame," produced about three months after the
+death of his friend Robert Greene, on September 3d, 1592, he speaks
+generally of his connection with the dramatic poets of that day, as if
+it were not newly formed. Malone supposed that Shakespeare, with whom
+Chettle had then recently become acquainted, was alluded to in the same
+tract. In "England's Mourning Garment" Chettle addresses a stanza to
+"silver-tongued Melicert," [whom some critics have supposed to be
+Shakespeare. But this is mere conjecture.]
+
+Francis Meres, in his often-quoted "Palladis Tamia" (1598), includes
+Chettle in a long list of other writers for the stage, as "one of the
+best for comedy;" but in earlier works upon the poetry and literature of
+England, such as Webbe's "Discourse" in 1586, and Puttenham's "Art of
+English Poesie" in 1589, he is not mentioned.
+
+Henslowe's list of plays, with the authors' names attached, as [edited
+by Mr Collier], begins [in February 1591-2;] and there the first mention
+of Chettle is in February 1597-8: between that date and March 1602-3, a
+period of little more than five years, he wrote, or assisted in writing,
+all the dramatic performances with which his name is associated; a fact
+of itself sufficient to show, if Henslowe be accurate, that in many of
+them his share must have been very inconsiderable, perhaps only
+amounting to a few alterations. They are the following, exclusive of
+those pieces already enumerated,[253] in which he was concerned with
+Munday:--
+
+1. The Valiant Welchman, by Michael Drayton and Henry Chettle, February
+1597-8. Printed in 1615.[254]
+
+2. Earl Goodwin and his Three Sons, Part I., by Michael Drayton, Henry
+Chettle, Thomas Dekker, and Robert Wilson, March 1598. Not printed.
+
+3. Earl Goodwin, Part II., by the same authors, and under the same date
+in Henslowe's papers. Not printed.
+
+4. Piers of Exton, by the same authors, same date. Not printed.
+
+5. Black Batman of the North, Part I., by Henry Chettle, April 1598. Not
+printed.
+
+6. Black Batman of the North, Part II., by Henry Chettle and Robert
+Wilson. Same date. Not printed.
+
+7. The Play of a Woman, by Henry Chettle, July 1598. Not printed.[255]
+
+8. The Conquest of Brute with the first finding of the Bath, by John
+Day, Henry Chettle, and John Singer. Same date. Not printed.
+
+9. Hot Anger soon Cold, by Henry Porter, Henry Chettle, and Ben Jonson,
+August 1598. Not printed.
+
+10. Catiline's Conspiracy, by Robert Wilson and Henry Chettle. Same
+date. Not printed.
+
+11. 'Tis no Deceit to Deceive the Deceiver, by Henry Chettle, September
+1598. Not printed.
+
+12. Aeneas' Revenge, with the Tragedy of Polyphemus, by Henry Chettle,
+February 1598-9. Not printed.
+
+13. Agamemnon, by Henry Chettle and Thomas Dekker, June 1599. Not
+printed. Malone thought that this was the same play as "Troilus and
+Cressida" before mentioned.
+
+14. The Stepmother's Tragedy, by Henry Chettle, August 1599. Not
+printed.
+
+15. Patient Grissel, by Thomas Dekker, Henry Chettle, and William
+Haughton, December 1599. Printed in 1603.
+
+16. The Arcadian Virgin, by Henry Chettle and William Haughton. Same
+date. Not printed.
+
+17. Damon and Pithias, by Henry Chettle, January 1599-1600. Not
+printed.[256]
+
+18. The Seven Wise Masters, by Henry Chettle, Thomas Dekker, William
+Haughton, and John Day, March 1599-1600. Not printed.
+
+19. The Golden Ass and Cupid and Psyche, by Thomas Dekker, John Day, and
+Henry Chettle, April 1600. Not printed.
+
+20. The Wooing of Death, by Henry Chettle. Same date. Not printed.
+
+21. The Blind Beggar of Bethnal Green, by Henry Chettle and John Day.
+Same date. Printed in 1659.
+
+22. All is not Gold that Glisters, by Samuel Rowley and Henry Chettle,
+March 1600. Not printed.
+
+23. Sebastian, King of Portugal, by Henry Chettle and Thomas Dekker,
+April 1601. Not printed.
+
+24. Cardinal Wolsey, Part I., by Henry Chettle, August 1601. Not
+printed.
+
+25. Cardinal Wolsey, Part II., by Henry Chettle, May 1602. Not printed.
+
+26. The Orphan's Tragedy, by Henry Chettle, September 1601. Not printed.
+
+27. Too Good to be True, by Henry Chettle, Richard Hathwaye, and
+Wentworth Smith, November 1601. Not printed.
+
+28. Love Parts Friendship, by Henry Chettle and Wentworth Smith, May
+1602. Not printed.
+
+29. Tobyas, by Henry Chettle. Same date. Not printed.
+
+30. Jeptha, by Henry Chettle. Same date. Not printed.
+
+31. A Danish Tragedy, by Henry Chettle. Same date. Not printed.
+
+32. Femelanco, by Henry Chettle and ---- Robinson, September 1602. Not
+printed.
+
+33. Lady Jane, Part I., by Henry Chettle, Thomas Dekker, Thomas Haywood,
+Wentworth Smith, and John Webster, November 1602. Not printed.
+
+34. Lady Jane, Part II., by the same authors, Smith excepted. Same date.
+Not printed.
+
+35. The London Florentine, Part I., by Thomas Heywood and Henry Chettle,
+December 1602. Not printed.
+
+36. The London Florentine, Part II., by the same authors. Same date. Not
+printed.
+
+37. The Tragedy of Hoffman, by Henry Chettle. Same date. Printed in
+1631.
+
+38. Jane Shore, by Henry Chettle and John Day, March 1602-3. Not
+printed.
+
+Among the scattered notices in Henslowe's papers is an entry, dated
+September 3d, 1599, of 40s. advanced to Chettle, Jonson, Dekker, "and
+other gentlemen," on account of a tragedy they were engaged upon called
+"Robert the Second, King of Scots."
+
+The interest of the "second part" of "Robert Earl of Huntington," on the
+whole, is stronger than that of the first part, and some powerful,
+though not always tasteful, writing gives effect to the situations. The
+death of Robin Hood takes place as early as the end of the first act,
+and attention is afterwards directed to the two, otherwise unconnected,
+plots of the fate of Lady Bruce and her little son, and of the love of
+King John for Matilda. Robert Davenport's Tragedy of "King John and
+Matilda," printed in 1655, goes precisely over the same ground, and with
+many decided marks of imitation, especially in the conduct of the story.
+Davenport's production is inferior in most respects to the earlier work
+of Chettle and Munday.
+
+
+
+
+DRAMATIS PERSONAE.[257]
+
+
+KING RICHARD THE FIRST.
+PRINCE JOHN, _afterwards King_.
+ROBERT, _Earl of Huntington_.
+LITTLE JOHN.
+SCATHLOCK.
+SCARLET.
+FRIAR TUCK.
+MUCH, _the Clown_.
+BISHOP OF ELY.
+CHESTER.
+SALISBURY.
+LEICESTER.
+RICHMOND.
+FITZWATER.
+YOUNG FITZWATER.
+WINCHESTER.
+BRUCE.
+YOUNG BRUCE.
+BOY, _son of Lady Bruce_.
+OXFORD.
+HUBERT.
+MOWBRAY.
+BONVILLE.
+PRIOR OF YORK.
+JUSTICE WARMAN.
+SIR DONCASTER.
+MONK OF BURY.
+WILL BRAND.
+_Maskers, Messengers, Soldiers, &c_.
+QUEEN MOTHER.
+QUEEN.
+MATILDA.
+LADY BRUCE.
+ABBESS OF DUNMOW.
+
+
+
+
+THE DEATH OF ROBERT EARL OF HUNTINGTON.
+
+
+
+
+ACT I, SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ FRIAR TUCK.[258]
+
+FRIAR. Holla, holla, holla! follow, follow, follow!
+                              [_Like noise within_.
+
+        Now, benedicite!
+        What foul absurdity,
+        Folly and foolery
+        Had like to follow me!
+        I and my mates,
+        Like addle-pates,
+        Inviting great states
+        To see our last play,
+        Are hunting the hay,
+        With "Ho! that way
+        The goodly hart ran,"
+        With "Follow, Little John!
+        Much, play the man!"
+        And I, like a sot,
+        Have wholly forgot
+        The course of our plot
+        But, cross-bow, lie down,
+        Come on, friar's gown,
+        Hood, cover my crown,
+        And with a low beck
+        Prevent a sharp check.
+
+Blithe sit ye all, and wink at our rude cry:
+Mind, where we left in Sherwood merrily
+The king, his train Robin, his yeomen tall,
+Gone to the wood to see the fat deer fall.
+We left maid Marian busy in the bower,
+And pretty Jenny looking every hour
+For their returning from the hunting-game,
+And therefore seek to set each thing in frame.
+Warman all woful for his sin we left:
+Sir Doncaster, whose villanies and theft
+You never heard of, but too soon ye shall,
+Housed[259] with the Prior, shame them both befall!
+They two will make our mirth be short and small.
+But lest I bring ye sorrow ere the time,
+Pardon I beg of your well-judging eyne,
+And take in part bad prologue and rude play.
+The hunters halloo! Tuck must needs away.
+Therefore down, weed;
+
+        Bow, do the deed
+        To make the stag bleed;
+        And if my hand speed,
+        Hey for a cry,
+        With a throat strain'd high,
+        And a loud yall
+        At the beast's fall
+
+    _Enter_ KING, ELY, FITZWATER, SALISBURY, CHESTER,
+    PRINCE JOHN, LITTLE JOHN, SCATHLOCK.
+
+KING. Where is our mother?[260]
+
+JOHN. Mounted in a stand:
+Six fallow deer have died by her hand.
+
+FITZ. Three stags I slew.
+
+ELY. Two bucks by me fell down.
+
+CHES. As many died by me.
+
+SAL. But I had three.
+
+JOHN. Scathlock, where's Much?
+
+SCATH. When last I saw him, may it please your grace,
+He and the Friar footed it apace.
+
+JOHN. Scathlock, no grace--your fellow and plain John.
+
+LIT. JOHN. I warrant you, Much will be here anon.
+
+JOHN. Think'st thou, Little John, that he must Jenny wed?
+
+LIT. JOHN. No doubt he must.
+
+JOHN. Then to adorn his head,
+We shall have horns good store.
+
+KING. God, for thy grace,
+How could I miss the stag I had in chase?
+Twice did I hit him in the very neck,
+When back my arrows flew, as they had smit
+On some sure armour. Where is Robin Hood
+And the wight[261] Scarlet? Seek them, Little John.
+                               [_Exit_ LITTLE JOHN.
+I'll have that stag, before I dine, to-day.
+
+    _Enter_ MUCH.
+
+MUCH. O, the Friar, the Friar, the Friar!
+
+KING. Why, how now, Much?
+
+MUCH. Cry ye mercy, Master King:[262] marry, this is the matter.
+Scarlet is following the stag you hit, and has almost lodged him: now,
+the Friar has the best bow but yours in all the field; which and
+Scarlet had, he would have him straight.
+
+KING. Where is thy master?
+
+MUCH. Nay, I cannot tell, nor the Friar neither.
+
+SCATH. I hear them halloo far off in the wood.
+
+KING. Come, Much, can'st lead us where as Scarlet is?
+
+MUCH. Never fear you: follow me.
+
+                                 [_Exeunt hallooing_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    _Enter_ SIR DONCASTER, PRIOR.
+
+DON. You were resolv'd to have him poisoned,
+Or kill'd, or made away, you car'd not how:
+What devil makes you doubtful now to do't?
+
+PRIOR. Why, Doncaster, his kindness in our needs.
+
+DON. A plague upon his kindness! let him die.
+I never temper'd poison in my life,
+But I employ'd it. By th'mass, and I lose this,
+For ever look to lose my company.
+
+PRIOR. But will you give it him?
+
+DON. That cannot be.
+The queen, Earl Chester, and Earl Salisbury,
+If they once see me, I am a dead man:
+Or did they hear my name, I'll lay my life,
+They all would hunt me for my life.
+
+PRIOR. What hast thou done to them?
+
+DON. Faith, some odd toys,
+That made me fly the south: but pass we them.
+Here is the poison; will you give it Robin?
+
+PRIOR. Now, by this gold, I will.
+
+DON. Or, as I said,
+For ever I'll defy your company.
+
+PRIOR. Well, he shall die, and in his jollity:
+And in my head I have a policy
+To make him die disgrac'd.
+
+DON. O, tell it, Prior!
+
+PRIOR. I will, but not as now;
+                  [_Call the_ FRIAR _within_.
+We'll seek a place: the woods have many ears,
+And some, methinks, are calling for the Friar.[263]
+
+    _Enter_ LITTLE JOHN _and_ SCATHLOCK, _calling the_
+    FRIAR, _as before_.
+
+LIT. JOHN. The Friar! the Friar!
+
+SCATH. Why, where's this Friar?
+
+    _Enter_ FRIAR TUCK.
+
+FRIAR. Here, sir: what is your desire?
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD _and_ WARMAN.[264]
+
+ROB. H. Why, Friar, what a murrain dost thou mean?
+The king calls for thee; for a mighty stag
+(That hath a copper-ring about his neck
+With letters on it, which he would have read)
+Hath Scarlet kill'd. I pray thee, go thy way.
+
+FRIAR. Master, I will: no longer will I stay.
+
+    [_Exit_ FRIAR TUCK, LITTLE JOHN, _and_ SCATHLOCK.
+
+ROB. H. Good uncle, be more careful of your health,
+And yours, Sir Doncaster; your wounds are green.
+
+BOTH. Through your great kindness we are comforted.
+
+ROB. H. And, Warman, I advise you to more mirth.
+Shun solitary walks, keep company:
+Forget your fault; I have forgiv'n the fault,
+Good Warman, be more blithe; and at this time
+A little help my Marian and her maid.
+Much shall come to you straight: a little now
+We must all strive to do the best we may.
+                         [_Exit winding_.[265]
+
+WAR. On you and her I'll wait until my dying day.
+
+    [WARMAN _is going out_; DONCASTER _pulls him_.
+
+DON. Warman, a word. My good Lord Prior and I
+Are full of grief to see thy misery.
+
+WAR. My misery, Sir Doncaster? why, I thank God,
+I never was in better state than now.
+
+PRIOR. Why, what a servile slavish mind hast thou!
+Art thou a man, and canst be such a beast,
+Ass-like to bear the burthen of thy wrongs?
+
+WAR. What wrong have I? is't wrong to be reliev'd?
+
+DON. Reliev'd, say'st thou? why, shallow-witted fool,
+Dost thou not see Robin's ambitious pride,
+And how he climbs by pitying, and aspires
+By humble looks, good deeds, and such fond toys,
+To be a monarch reigning over us,
+As if we were the vassals to his will?
+
+WAR. I am his vassal, and I will be still.
+
+PRIOR. Warman, thou art a fool. I do confess,
+Were these good deeds done in sincerity--
+Pity of mine, thine[266] or this knight's distress,
+Without vain brags--it were true charity:
+But to relieve our fainting bodies' wants,
+And grieve our souls with quips and bitter 'braids,
+Is good turns overturn'd: no thanks we owe
+To any whatsoever helps us so.
+
+WAR. Neither himself nor any that he keeps
+Ever upbraided me, since I came last.
+
+DON. O God, have mercy on thee, silly ass!
+Doth he not say to every guest that comes,
+This same is Warman, that was once my steward?
+
+WAR. And what of that?
+
+PRIOR. Is't not as much to say,
+Why, here he stands that once did me betray?
+
+DON. Did he not bring a troop to grace himself,
+Like captives waiting on a conqueror's chair,
+And calling of them out by one and one,
+Presented them, like fairings, to the king?[267]
+
+PRIOR. O, ay: there was a rare invention.
+A plague upon the fool!
+I hate him worse for that than all the rest.
+
+WAR. Why should you hate him? why should you--or you--
+Envy this noble lord thus, as you do?
+
+DON. Nay rather, why dost thou not join in hate
+With us, that lately liv'd, like us, in wealthy state?
+Remember this, remember, foolish man,
+How thou hast been the Shrieve of Nottingham.
+
+PRIOR. Cry to thy thoughts, let this thought never cease--
+"I have been justice of my sovereign's peace,
+Lord of fair livings; men with cap and knee
+In liveries waited hourly on me."
+
+DON. And when thou think'st thou hast been such and such,
+Think then what 'tis to be a mate to Much?
+To run when Robin bids, come at his call,
+Be Mistress Marian's man.
+
+PRIOR. Nay, think withal--
+
+WAR. What shall I think, but think upon my need,
+When men fed dogs, and me they would not feed?
+When I despair'd through want, and sought to die,
+My piteous master, of his charity,
+Forgave my fault, reliev'd and saved me.
+This do I think upon; and you should think
+(If you had hope of soul's salvation)--
+First, Prior, that he is of thy flesh and blood,
+That thou art uncle unto Robin Hood;
+That by extortion thou didst get his lands--
+God and I know how it came to thy hands:
+How thou pursued'st him in his misery,
+And how heaven plagued thy heart's extremity.
+Think, Doncaster, when, hired by this Prior,
+Thou cam'st to take my master with the Friar,
+And wert thyself ta'en; how he set thee free,
+Gave thee an hundred pound to comfort thee.
+And both bethink ye, how but yesterday
+Wounded and naked in the field you lay;
+How with his own hand he did raise your heads,
+Pour'd balm into your wounds, your bodies fed,
+Watch'd when ye slept, wept when he saw your woe--
+
+DON. Stay, Warman, stay! I grant that he did so;
+And you, turn'd honest, have forsworn the villain?
+
+WAR. Even from my soul I villany defy.
+
+PRIOR. A blessed hour; a fit time now to die.
+
+DON. And you shall, conscience.
+
+              [_Stabs him_, WARMAN _falls_.
+
+WAR. O, forgive me, God,
+And save my master from their bloody hands!
+
+PRIOR. What, hast thou made him sure?
+
+DON. It's dead--sure he is dead, if that be sure?
+
+PRIOR. Then let us thrust the dagger in his hand,
+And when the next comes, cry he kill'd himself.
+
+DON. That must be now: yonder comes Robin Hood.
+No life in him?
+
+PRIOR. No, no, not any life.
+Three mortal wounds have let in piercing air,
+And at their gaps his life is clean let out.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD.
+
+ROB. H. Who is it, uncle, that you so bemoan?
+
+PRIOR. Warman, good nephew, whom Sir Doncaster and I
+Found freshly bleeding, as he now doth lie.
+You were scarce gone, when he did stab himself.
+
+ROB. H. O God!
+He in his own hand holds his own heart's hurt:
+I dreaded, too, much his distressed look.
+Belike the wretch despair'd, and slew himself.
+
+DON. Nay. that's most sure: yet he had little reason,
+Considering how well you used him.
+
+ROB. H. Well, I am sorry, but must not be sad,
+Because the king is coming to my bower.
+Help me, I pray thee, to remove his body,
+Lest he should come and see him murdered.
+Some time anon he shall be buried.
+
+    [_Exeunt_ ROBIN HOOD _and_ SIR DONCASTER _with the body_.[268]
+
+PRIOR. Good! all is good! this is as I desire:
+Now for a face of pure hypocrisy.
+Sweet murder, clothe thee in religious weeds,
+Reign in my bosom, that with help of thee
+I may effect this Robin's tragedy.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD _and_ SIR DONCASTER.
+
+DON. Nay, nay, you must not take this thing so heavily.
+
+ROB. H. A body's loss, Sir Doncaster, is much;
+But a soul's too is more to be bemoan'd.
+
+PRIOR. Truly I wonder at your virtuous mind.
+O God, to one so kind who'd be unkind!
+Let go this grief: now must you put on joy,
+And for the many favours I have found,
+So much exceeding all conceit of mine,
+Unto your cheer I'll add a precious drink,
+Of colour rich and red, sent me from Rome,
+There's in it moly,[269] Syrian balsamum,
+Gold's rich elixir; O, 'tis precious!
+
+ROB. H. Where is it, uncle?
+
+PRIOR. As yesterday
+Sir Doncaster and I rid on our way,
+Thieves did beset us, bound us, as you saw,
+And among other things did take from me
+This rich confection: but regardlessly,
+As common drink, they cast into a bush
+The bottle, which this day Sir Doncaster
+Fetch'd, and hath left it in the inner lodging.
+I tell you, nephew (I do love you well).
+A pint of this ransom'd the Sophy's son
+When he was taken in Natolia.
+I meant, indeed, to give it my liege lord,
+In hope to have his favour; but to you
+I put myself: be my good friend,
+And, in your own restoring me restore.
+
+ROB. H. Uncle, I will; you need urge that no more.
+But what's the virtue of this precious drink?
+
+PRIOR. It keeps fresh youth, restores diseased sight,
+Helps nature's weakness, smooths the scars of wounds,
+And cools the entrails with a balmy breath,
+When they, by thirst or travail, boil with heat.
+
+ROB. H. Uncle, I thank you: pray you, let me have
+A cup prepared 'gainst the king comes in,
+To cool his heat: myself will give it him.
+
+PRIOR. And when he drinks, be bold to say, he drinks
+A richer draught than that dissolved pearl,
+Which Cleopatra drank to Antony.
+
+ROB. H. I have much business: let it be your charge
+To make this rich draught ready for the king,
+And I will quit it; pray ye, do not fail.
+                                     [_Exit_.
+
+PRIOR. I warrant you, good nephew.
+
+DON. Better and better still!
+We thought before but to have poison'd him,
+And now shall Robin Hood destroy the king.
+Even when the king, the queen, the prince, the lords,
+Joy in his virtues, this supposed vice
+Will turn to sharp hate their exceeding love.
+
+PRIOR. Ha, ha, ha! I cannot choose but laugh,
+To see my cousin cozen'd in this sort.
+Fail him, quoth you; nay, hang me if I do.
+But, Doncaster, art sure the poisons are well-mix'd?
+
+DON. Tut, tut! let me alone for the poisoning:
+I have already turn'd o'er four or five,
+That anger'd[270] me. But tell me, Prior,
+Wherefore so deadly dost thou hate thy cousin?
+
+PRIOR. Shall I be plain? because, if he were dead,
+I should be made the Earl of Huntington.
+
+DON. A pretty cause; but thou a churchman art.
+
+PRIOR. Tut, man, if that would fall,
+I'll have a dispensation, and turn temporal.
+But tell me, Doncaster, why dost thou hate him?
+
+DON. By the mass, I cannot tell. O yes, now I ha't:
+I hate thy cousin Earl of Huntington,
+Because so many love him as there do,
+And I myself am loved of so few.
+Nay, I have other reasons for my hate:
+He is a fool, and will be reconcil'd
+To any foe he hath: he is too mild,
+Too honest for this world, fitter for heaven.
+He will not kill these greedy cormorants,
+Nor strip base peasants of the wealth they have!
+He does abuse a thief's name and an outlaw's,
+And is, indeed, no outlaw nor no thief:
+He is unworthy of such reverend names.
+Besides, he keeps a paltry whimling[271] girl,
+And will not bed, forsooth, before he bride.
+I'll stand to't, he abuses maidenhead;
+That will not take it, being offered,
+Hinders the commonwealth of able men.
+Another thing I hate him for again:
+He says his prayers, fasts eves, gives alms, does good:
+For these and such like crimes swears Doncaster
+To work the speedy death of Robin Hood.
+
+PRIOR. Well-said, i' faith. Hark, hark! the
+king returns;
+To do this deed my heart like fuel burns.
+
+                                           [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Wind horns. Enter_ KING, QUEEN, JOHN, FITZWATER,
+    ELY, CHESTER, SALISBURY, LEICESTER, LITTLE JOHN,
+    FRIAR TUCK, SCARLET, SCATHLOCK, _and_ MUCH: FRIAR
+    TUCK _carrying a stag's head, dancing_.
+
+KING. Gramercy, Friar, for thy glee,
+Thou greatly hast contented me:
+What with thy sporting and thy game,
+I swear, I highly pleased am.
+
+FRIAR. It was my master's whole desire
+That maiden, yeoman, swain, and friar,
+Their arts and wits should all apply
+For pleasure of your majesty.
+
+QUEEN. Son Richard, look, I pray you, on the ring,
+That was about the neck of the last stag.
+
+CHES. Was his name Scarlet, that shot off his neck?
+
+JOHN. Chester, it was this honest fellow Scarlet:
+This is the fellow, and a yeoman bold
+As ever cours'd the swift hart on the mould.
+
+KING. Friar, here's somewhat 'graved upon the ring;
+I pray thee read it: meanwhile, list to me.
+
+    [_This while most compassing the_ FRIAR _about the ring_.
+
+Scarlet and Scathlock, you bold brethren,
+Twelvepence a day I give each for his fee;
+And henceforth see ye live like honest men.
+
+BOTH. We will, my liege, else let us die the death.
+
+MUCH. A boon, a boon, upon my knee,
+      Good King Richard, I beg of thee!
+For indeed, sir, the troth is, Much is my father, and he is one of your
+tenants, in King's Mill at Wakefield, all on a green:--
+      O there dwelleth a jolly pinder,
+      At Wakefield, all on a green.[272]
+Now I would have you, if you will do so much for me, to set me forward
+in the way of marriage to Jenny: the mill would not be cast away upon us.
+
+KING. Much, be thou ever master of that mill:
+I give it thee for thine inheritance.
+
+MUCH. Thanks, precious prince of courtesy.
+I'll to Jenny, and tell her of my lands, i'faith.
+                                          [_Exit_.
+
+JOHN. Here, Friar, here; here it begins.
+
+FRIAR (_reads_). "When Harold Harefoot reigned king,
+About my neck he put this ring."
+
+KING. In Harold's time? more than a hundred year
+Hath this ring been about this new-slain deer!
+I am sorry now it died; but let the same
+Head, ring and all, be sent to Nottingham,
+And in the castle kept for monument.[273]
+
+FITZ. My liege, I heard an old tale long ago,
+That Harold, being Godwin's son of Kent,[274]
+When he had got fair England's government,
+Hunted for pleasure once within this wood,
+And singled out a fair and stately stag,
+Which foot to foot the king in running caught:
+And sure this was the stag.
+
+KING. It was, no doubt.
+
+CHES. But some, my lord, affirm
+That Julius Caesar, many years before,
+Took such a stag, and such a poesy writ.
+
+KING. It should not be in Julius Caesar's time.
+There was no English used in this land
+Until the Saxons came; and this is writ
+In Saxon characters.
+
+JOHN. Well, 'twas a goodly beast.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD.
+
+KING. How now, Earl Robert?
+
+FRIAR. A forfeit, a forfeit, my liege lord!
+My master's laws are on record!
+The court-roll here your grace may see.
+
+KING. I pray thee, Friar, read it me.[275]
+
+FRIAR. One shall suffice, and this is he.
+No man, that cometh in this wood
+To feast or dwell with Robin Hood,
+Shall call him earl, lord, knight, or squire:
+He no such titles doth desire,
+But Robin Hood, plain Robin Hood,
+That honest yeoman stout and good,
+On pain of forfeiting a mark,
+That must be paid to me his clerk.
+My liege, my liege, this law you broke,
+Almost in the last word you spoke:
+That crime may not acquitted be,
+Till Friar Tuck receive his fee.
+
+KING. There's more than twenty marks, mad Friar.
+                              [_Casts him purse_.
+
+FRIAR. If thus you pay the clerk his hire,
+Oft may you forfeit, I desire.
+You are a perfect penitent,
+And well you do your wrong repent:
+For this your highness' liberal gift
+I here absolve you without shrift.
+
+KING. Gramercies, Friar. Now, Robin Hood,
+Sith Robin Hood it needs must be,
+I was about to ask before,
+If thou didst see the great stag's fall.
+
+ROB. H. I did, my lord, I saw it all;
+But missing this same prating friar,
+And hearing you so much desire
+To have the losel's company,
+I went to seek Small-Honesty.
+
+FRIAR. But you found Much, when you found me.
+
+ROB. H. Ay, Much my man; but not a jot
+Of honesty in thee, God wot.
+
+QUEEN. Robin, you do abuse the Friar.
+
+FRIAR. Madam, I dare not call him liar:
+He may be bold with me, he knows.
+How now, Prince John, how goes, how goes
+This woodman's life with you to-day?
+My fellow Woodnet you would be.
+
+JOHN. I am thy fellow, thou dost see;
+And to be plain, as God me save,
+So well I like thee, merry knave,
+That I thy company must have:
+Nay, and I will.
+
+FRIAR. Nay, and you shall.
+
+ROB. H. My lord, you need not fear at all,
+But you shall have his company:
+He will be bold, I warrant you.
+
+KING. Know you, where-e'er a spring is nigh?
+Fain would I drink, I am right dry.
+
+ROB. H. I have a drink within my bower
+Of pleasant taste and sovereign power:
+My reverend uncle gives it me,
+To give unto your majesty.
+
+KING. I would be loth, indeed, being in heat
+To drink cold water. Let us to thy bower.
+
+ROB. H. Run, Friar, before,
+And bid my uncle be in readiness.
+
+FRIAR. Gone in a trice[276] on such good business.
+
+                                  [_Exeunt omnes_.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.[277]
+
+
+    _Enter_ MARIAN, _with a white apron_.
+
+MAR. What, Much! What, Jenny! Much, I say!
+
+MUCH. What's the matter, mistress?
+
+MAR. I pray thee, see the fueller
+Suffer the cook to want no wood.
+Good Lord, where is this idle girl?
+Why, Jenny!
+
+JENNY (_within_). I come, forsooth.
+
+MAR. I pray thee, bring the flowers forth.
+
+MUCH. I'll go send her, mistress, and help the cooks, if they have
+any need.
+
+MAR. Despatch, good Much. What, Jen, I say!
+
+    _Enter_ JENNY.
+
+MUCH. Hie ye, hie ye! she calls for life.    [_Exit_ MUCH.
+
+MAR. Indeed, indeed, you do me wrong,
+To let me cry, and call so long.
+
+JEN. Forsooth, I straw'd[278] the dining bowers,
+And smooth'd the walks with herbs and flowers.
+The yeomen's tables I have spread,
+Dress'd salts, laid trenchers, set on bread.
+Nay, all is well, I warrant you.
+
+MAR. You are not well, I promise you,
+Your 'foresleeves are not pinn'd; fie, fie!
+And all your head-gear stands awry.
+Give me the flowers. Go in, for shame,
+And quickly see you mend the same.
+
+                             [_Exit_ JENNY.
+
+    _Enter_ SIR DONCASTER, PRIOR. MARIAN _strewing flowers_.
+
+DON. How busy Mistress Marian is!
+She thinks this is her day of bliss.
+
+PRIOR. But it shall be the wofull'st day
+That ever chanc'd her, if I may.
+
+MAR. Why are you two thus in the air?
+Your wounds are green. Good coz, have care.
+
+PRIOR. Thanks for your kindness, gentle maid:
+My cousin Robert us hath prayed
+To help him in his business.
+
+    _Enter_ FRIAR.
+
+FRIAR. Sir Doncaster, Sir Doncaster!
+
+DON. Holla!
+
+FRIAR. I pray you, did you see the Prior?
+
+PRIOR. Why, here I am. What wouldst thou. Friar?
+
+FRIAR. The king is heated in the chase,
+And posteth hitherward apace.
+He told my master he was dry,
+And he desires ye presently
+To send the drink whereof ye spake.
+
+PRIOR. Come, it is here: haste let us make.
+
+          [_Exeunt_ DONCASTER, PRIOR, _and_ FRIAR.
+
+          _Horns blow.
+
+    Enter_ KING, QUEEN, JOHN, SCARLET, SCATHLOCK,
+    ELY, FITZWATER, SALISBURY, CHESTER.
+
+          MARIAN _kneels down_.
+
+MAR. Most gracious sovereign, welcome once again:
+Welcome to you and all your princely train.
+
+KING. Thanks, lovely hostess; we are homely guests.
+Where's Robin Hood? he promis'd me some drink.
+
+MAR. Your handmaid, Robin, will not then be long:
+The Friar, indeed, came running to his uncle,
+Who, with Sir Doncaster, were here with me,
+And all together went for such a drink.
+
+KING. Well, in a better time it could not come,
+For I am very hot and passing dry.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD, _with a cup, a towel, leading_
+    DONCASTER: TUCK _and_ MUCH _pulling the_ PRIOR.
+
+ROB. H. Traitor! I'll draw thee out before the king.
+
+FRIAR. Come, murderous Prior.
+
+MUCH. Come, ye dog's face.
+
+KING. Why, how now, Robin? Where's the drink you bring?
+
+ROB. H. Lay hold on these!
+Far be it I should bring your majesty
+The drink these two prepared for your taste.
+
+KING. Why, Robin Hood? be brief and answer me.
+I am amazed at thy troubled looks.
+
+ROB. H. Long will not my ill-looks amaze your grace;
+I shortly look never to look again.
+
+MAR. Never to look! What, will it still be night?
+If thou look never, day can never be.
+What ails my Robin? Wherefore dost thou faint?
+
+ROB. H. Because I cannot stand: yet now I can.
+             [KING _and_ MARIAN _support him_.
+Thanks to my king, and thanks to Marian.
+
+KING. Robin, be brief, and tell us what hath chanc'd.
+
+ROB. H. I must be brief, for I am sure of death,
+Before a long tale can be half-way told.
+
+FITZ. Of death, my son! bright sun of all my joy!
+Death cannot have the power of[279] virtuous life.
+
+ROB. H. Not o'er[280] the virtues, but the life it can.
+
+KING. What, dost thou speak of death? how shouldst thou die?
+
+ROB. H. By poison and the Prior's treachery.
+
+QUEEN. Why, take this sovereign powder at my hands:
+Take it, and live in spite of poison's power.
+
+DON. Ay, set him forward. Powders, quoth ye? hah!
+I am a fool, then, if a little dust,
+The shaving of a horn, a Bezoar stone,[281]
+Or any antidote have power to stay
+The execution of my heart's resolve.
+Tut, tut! you labour, lovely queen, in vain,
+And on a thankless groom your toil bestow.
+Now hath your foe reveng'd you of your foe:
+Robin shall die, if all the world said no.[282]
+
+MAR. How the wolf howls! Fly, like a tender kid,
+Into thy shepherd's bosom. Shield me, love!
+Canst thou not, Robin? Where shall I be hid?
+O God! these ravens will seize upon thy dove.
+
+ROB. H. They cannot hurt thee; pray thee, do not fear:
+Base curs will couch, the lion being near.
+
+QUEEN. How works my powder?
+
+ROB. H. Very well, fair queen.
+
+KING. Dost thou feel any ease?
+
+ROB. H. I shall, I trust, anon:
+Sleep falls upon mine eyes. O, I must sleep,
+And they that love me, do not waken me.
+
+MAR. Sleep in my lap, and I will sing to thee.
+
+JOHN. He should not sleep.
+
+ROB. H. I must, for I must die;
+While I live, therefore, let me have some rest.
+
+FITZ. Ay, let him rest: the poison urges sleep.
+When he awakes, there is no hope of life.
+
+DON. Of life! Now, by the little time I have to live,
+He cannot live one hour for your lives.
+
+KING. Villain! what art thou?
+
+DON. Why, I am a knight.
+
+CHES. Thou wert indeed. If it so please your grace,
+I will describe my knowledge of this wretch.
+
+KING. Do, Chester.
+
+CHES. This Doncaster, for so the felon hight,
+Was by the king, your father, made a knight,
+And well in arms he did himself behave.
+Many a bitter storm the wind of rage
+Blasted this realm within those woful days,
+When the unnatural fights continued
+Between your kingly father and his sons.
+This cutthroat, knighted in that time of woe,
+Seized on a beauteous nun at Berkhamstead,
+As we were marching toward Winchester,
+After proud Lincoln was compell'd to yield.
+He took this virgin straying in the field--
+For all the nuns and every covent[283] fled
+The dangers that attended on our troops:
+For those sad times too oft did testify,
+War's rage hath no regard to piety--
+She humbly pray'd him, for the love of heaven,
+To guide her to her father's, two miles thence:
+He swore he would, and very well he might,
+For to the camp he was a forager.
+Upon the way they came into a wood,
+Wherein, in brief, he stripp'd this tender maid:
+Whose lust, when she in vain had long withstood,
+Being by strength and torments overlaid,
+He did a sacrilegious deed of rape,
+And left her bathed in her own tears and blood.
+When she reviv'd, she to her father's got,
+And got her father to make just complaint
+Unto your mother, being then in camp.
+
+QUEEN. Is this the villain, Chester, that defil'd
+Sir Eustace Stutville's chaste and beauteous child?
+
+DON. Ay, madam, this is he
+That made a wench dance naked in a wood;
+And, for she did deny what I desired,
+I scourg'd her for her pride, till her fair skin
+With stripes was checquer'd like a vintner's grate.[284]
+And what was this? A mighty matter, sure!
+I have a thousand more than she defil'd,
+And cut the squeaking throats of some of them--
+I grieve I did not hers.
+
+QUEEN. Punish him, Richard.
+A fairer virgin never saw the sun;
+A chaster maid was never sworn a nun.
+
+KING. How 'scaped the villain punishment that time?
+
+FITZ. I rent his spurs off, and disgraded him.
+
+CHES. And then he rail'd upon the Queen and me.
+Being committed, he his keeper slew,
+And to your father fled, who pardon'd him.
+
+RICH. God give his soul a pardon for that sin.
+
+SAL. O, had I heard his name or seen his face,
+I had defended Robin from this chance!
+Ah, villain! shut those gloomy lights of thine.
+Remember'st thou a little son of mine,
+Whose nurse at Wilton first thou ravishedst,
+And slew'st two maids that did attend on them?
+
+DON. I grant I dash'd the brains out of a brat--
+Thine if he were, I care not: had he been
+The first-born comfort of a royal king,
+And should have yall'd, when Doncaster cried peace,
+I would have done by him as then I did.
+
+KING. Soon shall the world be rid of such a wretch.
+Let him be hang'd alive in the highway
+That joineth to the tower.[285]
+
+DON. Alive or dead (I reck not how I die),
+You, them, and these I desperately defy.
+
+ELY. Repent, or never look to be absolv'd;
+But die accurs'd, as thou deservest well.
+
+DON. Then give me my desert: curse, one by one!
+
+ELY. First I accurse thee; and if thou persist,
+Unto damnation leave thee, wretched man.
+
+DON. What do I care for your damnation?
+Am I not doomed to death? what more damnation
+Can there ensue your loud and yelling cries?
+
+PRIOR. Yes, devil! hear thy fellow-spirit speak--
+Who would repent; O, fain he would repent!--
+After this body's bitter punishment,
+There is an ever-during endless woe,
+A quenchless fire, an unconsuming pain,
+Which desperate souls and bodies must endure.
+
+DON. Can you preach this, yet set me on, Sir Prior,
+To run into this endless, quenchless fire?
+
+PRIOR. High heavens, show mercy to my many ills!
+Never had this been done, but like a fiend
+Thou temptedst me with ceaseless devilish thoughts.
+Therefore I curse with bitterness of soul
+The hour wherein I saw thy baleful eyes.
+My eyes I curse for looking on those eyes!
+My ears I curse for hearkening to thy tongue!
+I curse thy tongue for tempting of mine ears!
+Each part I curse, that we call thine or mine;
+Thine for enticing mine, mine following thine!
+
+DON. A holy prayer. What collect have we next?
+
+                    [_This time_ ROBIN _stirs_.
+
+FITZ. My Marian wanteth words, such is her woe;
+But old Fitzwater, for his girl and him,
+Begs nothing but world's plague for such a foe,
+Which causeless harm'd a virtuous nobleman,
+A pitier of his griefs, when he felt grief.
+Therefore, bethink thee of thy hateful deed,
+Thou faithless Prior, and thou this ruthless thief.
+
+PRIOR. Will no man curse me, giving so much cause?
+Then, Doncaster, ourselves ourselves accurse,
+And let no good betide to thee or me!
+
+      [_All the Yeomen_, FRIAR, MUCH, JENNY _cry_.
+
+ALL. Amen, amen! accursed may he be
+For murdering Robin, flower of courtesy.
+
+                                 [ROBIN _sits up_.
+
+ROB. H. O, ring not such a peal for Robin's death!
+Let sweet forgiveness be my passing bell.
+Art thou there, Marian? then fly forth, my breath:
+To die within thy arms contents me well.
+
+PRIOR. Keep in, keep in a little while thy soul,
+Till I have pour'd my soul forth at thy feet.
+
+ROB. H. I slept not, uncle; I your grief did hear,
+Let him forgive thy soul that bought it dear:
+Your body's deed I in my death forgive,
+And humbly beg the king that you may live.
+Stand to your clergy, uncle;[286] save your life,
+And lead a better life than you have done.
+
+PRIOR. O, gentle nephew! O, my brother's son,
+Thou dying glory of old Huntington!
+Wishest thou life to such a murderous foe?
+I will not live, since thou must life forego.
+O, happy Warman! blessed in thy end;
+Now too-too late thy truth I do commend.
+O, nephew, nephew! Doncaster and I
+Murder'd poor Warman, for he did deny
+To join with us in this black tragedy.
+
+ROB. H. Alas, poor Warman! Friar, Little John,
+I told ye both where Warman's body lay,
+And of his burial I'll dispose anon.
+
+KING. Is there no law, Lord Ely, to convict
+This Prior, that confesses murders thus?
+
+ELY. He is a hallow'd man, and must be tried
+And punish'd by the censure of the church.
+
+PRIOR. The church therein doth err: God doth allow
+No canon to preserve a murderer's life.
+Richard! King Richard! in thy grandsire's days
+A law was made, the clergy sworn thereto,
+That whatsoever churchman did commit
+Treason or murder, or false felony,
+Should like a secular be punished.
+Treason we did, for sure we did intend
+King Richard's poisoning, sovereign of this land.
+Murder we did, in working Warman's end
+And my dear nephew's by this fatal hand:
+And theft we did, for we have robb'd the king,
+The state, the nobles, commons, and his men,
+Of a true peer, firm pillar, liberal lord.
+Fitzwater we have robbed of a kind son,
+And Marian's love-joys we have quite undone.
+
+DON. Whoop! what a coil is here with your confession!
+
+PRIOR. I ask but judgment for my foul transgression.
+
+KING. Thy own mouth hath condemn'd thee.
+Hence with him!
+Hang this man dead, then see him buried;
+But let the other hang alive in chains.
+
+DON. I thank you, sir.
+
+        [_Exeunt Yeomen_, FRIAR, _Prisoners_, MUCH.
+
+JOHN. Myself will go, my lord,
+And see sharp justice done upon these slaves.
+
+ROB. H. O, go not hence, Prince John! a word or two,
+Before I die, I fain would say to you.
+
+KING. Robin, we see what we are sad to see--
+Death, like a champion, treading down thy life:
+Yet in thy end, somewhat to comfort thee,
+We freely give to thy betrothed wife,
+Beauteous and chaste Matilda, all those lands,
+Fallen by thy folly to the Prior's hands,
+And by his fault now forfeited to me.
+Earl Huntington, she shall thy countess be:
+And thy wight yeomen, they shall wend with me
+Against the faithless enemies of Christ.
+
+ROB. H. Bring forth a bier, and cover it with green;
+That on my deathbed I may here sit down.
+                   [_A bier is brought in. He sits_.
+At Robin's burial let no black be seen,
+Let no hand give for him a mourning gown;
+For in his death his king hath given him life
+By this large gift, given to his maiden wife.
+Chaste maid Matilda, countess of account,
+Chase with thy bright eyes all these clouds of woe
+From these fair cheeks; I pray thee, sweet, do so:
+Think it is bootless folly to complain
+For that which never can be had again.
+Queen Elinor, you once were Matilda's foe;
+Prince John, you long sought her unlawful love:
+Let dying Robin Hood entreat you both
+To change those passions: madam, turn your hate
+To princely love: Prince John, convert your love
+To virtuous passion, chaste and moderate.
+O, that your gracious right hands would enfold
+Matilda's right hand, prison'd in my palm,
+And swear to do what Robin Hood desires!
+
+QUEEN. I swear I will: I will a mother be
+To fair Matilda's life and chastity.
+
+JOHN. When John solicits chaste Matilda's ears
+With lawless suits, as he hath often done,
+Or offers to the altars of her eyes
+Lascivious poems, stuff'd with vanities,
+He craves to see but short and sour days:
+His death be like to Robin's he desires;
+His perjured body prove a poison'd prey
+For cowled monks and barefoot begging friars.
+
+ROB. H. Enough, enough! Fitzwater, take your child.
+My dying frost, which no sun's heat can thaw,
+Closes the powers of all my outward parts:
+My freezing blood runs back unto my heart,
+Where it assists death, which it would resist:
+Only my love a little hinders death,
+For he beholds her eyes, and cannot smite:
+Then go not yet, Matilda, stay awhile.
+Friar, make speed, and list my latest will.
+
+MAT. O, let me look for ever in thy eyes,
+And lay my warm breath to thy bloodless lips,
+If my sight can restrain death's tyrannies,
+Or keep life's breath within thy bosom lock'd.
+
+ROB. H. Away, away!
+Forbear, my love; all this is but delay.
+
+FITZ. Come, maiden daughter, from my maiden son,
+And give him leave to do what must be done.
+
+ROB. H. First, I bequeath my soul to all souls Sav'our,
+And will my body to be buried
+At Wakefield, underneath the abbey wall;
+And in this order make my funeral.
+When I am dead, stretch me upon this bier!
+My beads and primer shall my pillow be;
+On this side be my bow, my good shafts here;
+Upon my breast the cross, and underneath
+My trusty sword, thus fasten'd in the sheath.
+Let Warman's body at my feet be laid,
+Poor Warman, that in my defence did die.
+For holy dirges sing me woodmen's songs,
+As ye to Wakefield walk with voices shrill.
+This for myself. My goods and plate I give
+Among my yeomen: them I do bestow
+Upon my sovereign Richard. This is all.
+My liege, farewell! my love, farewell, farewell!
+Farewell, fair Queen, Prince John, and noble lords!
+Father Fitzwater, heartily adieu!
+Adieu, my yeomen tall. Matilda, close mine eyes.
+Friar, farewell! farewell to all!
+
+MAT. O, must my hands with envious death conspire
+To shut the morning gates of my life's light!
+
+FITZ. It is a duty and thy love's desire!
+I'll help thee, girl, to close up Robin's sight.[287]
+
+KING. Laments are bootless, tears cannot restore
+Lost life, Matilda; therefore weep no more:
+And since our mirth is turned into moan,
+Our merry sport to tragic funeral,
+We will prepare our power for Austria,
+After Earl Robert's timeless burial.
+Fall to your wood-songs, therefore, yeomen bold.
+And deck his hearse with flowers, that loved you dear:
+Dispose his goods as he hath them dispos'd.
+Fitzwater and Matilda, bide you here.
+See you the body unto Wakefield borne:
+A little we will bear ye company,
+But all of us at London 'point to meet:
+Thither, Fitzwater, bring Earl Robin's men;
+And, Friar, see you come along with them.
+
+FRIAR. Ah, my liege lord! the Friar faints,
+And hath no words to make complaints:
+But since he must forsake this place,
+He will await, and thanks your grace.
+
+    _Song.
+
+    Weep, weep, ye woodmen, wail,
+    Your hands with sorrow wring;
+    Your master Robin Hood lies dead,
+    Therefore sigh as you sing.
+
+    Here lie his primer and his beads,
+    His bent bow and his arrows keen,
+    His good sword and his holy cross:
+    Now cast on flowers fresh and green;
+
+    And as they fall, shed tears and say,
+    Wella, wella-day! wella, wella-day:
+    Thus cast ye flowers and sing,
+    And on to Wakefield take your way_.
+
+                                         [_Exeunt_.
+
+FRIAR. Here doth the Friar leave with grievance;
+Robin is dead, that graced his entrance,
+And being dead, he craves his audience
+With this short play they would have patience.[288]
+
+    _Enter_ CHESTER.
+
+CHES. Nay, Friar, at the request of thy kind friend,
+Let not thy play too soon be at an end.
+Though Robin Hood be dead, his yeomen gone,
+And that thou think'st there now remains not one
+To act another scene or two for thee,
+Yet know full well, to please this company,
+We mean to end Matilda's tragedy.
+
+FRIAR. Off then, I wish you, with your Kendal green;
+Let not sad grief in fresh array be seen.
+Matilda's story is replete with tears,
+Wrongs, desolations, ruins, deadly fears.
+In, and attire ye. Though I tired be,
+Yet will I tell my mistress' tragedy.
+Apollo's masterdom[289] I invocate,
+To whom henceforth my deeds I dedicate;
+That of his godhead, 'bove all gods divine,
+With his rich spirit he would lighten mine:
+That I may sing true lays of trothless deeds,
+Which to conceive my heart through sorrow bleeds,
+Cheer thee, sad soul, and in a lofty line
+Thunder out wrong, compass'd in cloudy tears:
+
+    [_Enter in black_.[290]
+
+Show to the eyes, fill the beholders' ears,
+With all the lively acts of lustful rage,
+Restrain'd by modest tears and chastity's intreats:
+And let King John, that ill-part[291] personage,
+By suits, devices, practices, and threats,
+And when he sees all serveth to no end,
+Of chaste Matilda let him make an end.
+
+CHO. We are all fitted, Friar: shall we begin?
+
+FRIAR. Well art thou suited: would my order would
+Permit me habit equal to my heart!
+
+CHO. If you remember, John did take an oath
+Never again to seek Matilda's love.
+
+FRIAR. O, what is he, that's sworn affection's slave,
+That will not violate all laws, all oaths?
+And, being mighty, what will he omit
+To compass his intents, though ne'er so ill?--
+You must suppose King Richard now is dead,
+And John, resistless, is fair England's lord
+Who, striving to forget Matilda's love,
+Takes to his wife the beauteous Isabel,
+Betroth'd to Hugh le Brun, Earl of North-March:[292]
+And picking quarrels under show of kin,
+Wholly divorces his first queen away.
+But yet Matilda still-still troubles him,
+And being in the court, so oft he courts her,
+That by her noble father, old Fitzwater,
+She is remov'd from his lust-tempting eye.
+But tides restrain'd o'erswell their bounds with rage:
+Her absence adds more fuel to his fire.
+In sleep he sees her, and his waking thoughts
+Study by day to compass his desire.
+
+CHO. Friar, since now you speak of visions,
+It was received by tradition
+From those that were right near unto King John,
+Of three strange visions that to him appear'd;
+And, as I guess, I told you what they were.
+
+FRIAR. With them I will begin. Draw but that veil,
+And there King John sits sleeping in his chair.
+
+    [_Draw the curtain: the king sits sleeping, his sword
+    by his side. Enter Austria, before whom cometh Ambition,
+    and bringing him before the chair, King John in sleep
+    maketh signs to avoid, and holdeth his own crown fast
+    with both his hands_.
+
+FRIAR. Ambition, that had ever waited on King John,
+Now brings him Austria, easy to be ta'en,
+Being wholly tam'd by Richard's warlike hand.
+And bids him add that dukedom to his crown:
+But he puts by Ambition, and contemns
+All other kingdoms but the English crown,
+Which he holds fast, as if he would not loose[293].
+
+    [_Enter Constance, leading Young Arthur: both
+    offer to take the crown; but with his foot he
+    overturneth them: to them cometh Insurrection,
+    led by the F.K. and L.[294] menacing him, and
+    leads the child again to the chair; but he only
+    layeth hand on his sword, and with his foot
+    overthroweth the child, whom they take up as
+    dead; and, Insurrection flying, they mournfully
+    bear in the body_.
+
+FRIAR. The lady and the child that did ascend,
+Striving in vain to take the crown from John,
+Were Constance and her son the Duke of Britain,
+Heir to the elder brother of the king:
+Yet he sleeps on, and with a little spurn
+The mother and the prince doth overturn.
+Again, when Insurrection them assists,
+Stirr'd by the French king and the wronged earl,
+Whose troth-plight wife King John had ta'en to wife,
+He only claps his hand upon his sword,
+Mocketh their threatenings, and in their attempts
+The harmless prince receives recureless death,
+Whom they too late with bootless tears lament.
+
+    [_Enter Queen with two Children, borne after her:
+    she ascends, and seeing no motion, she fetcheth her
+    children one by one; but seeing yet no motion, she
+    descendeth, wringing her hands, and departeth. Enter
+    Matilda in a mourning veil, reading on a book, at whose
+    coming he starteth, and sitteth upright; as she passeth
+    by, he smiles, and folds his arms as if he did embrace
+    her: being gone, he starts suddenly, and speaks_.
+
+KING. Matilda! stay, Matilda, do but speak!
+Who's there? Entreat Matilda to come back.
+
+    _Enter_ BONVILLE[295].
+
+BON. Who would you have, my lord?
+
+KING. Why, my Lord Bonville, I would have Matilda,
+That but even now pass'd by toward the door.
+
+BON. I saw her not, my lord.
+
+KING. Hadst thou a lover's eye,
+A gnat, a mote, a shadow thou wouldst spy.
+Come, follow me; she cannot be so far,
+But I shall overtake her: come away!
+                                        [_Exeunt_.
+
+FRIAR. The last appearance shadow'd the fair queen
+And her two children, at whose sight King John
+Shewed neither sign nor show of passion:
+But when the sun came masked in a cloud,
+And veiled beauty, join'd with chastity,
+Appeared in Matilda's lovely shape,
+He starts, he clasps, he wakes, he calls, he seeks
+The shadow of that substance he affects.
+To her he sues, but she his suit rejects;
+To him she sues, but he her suit neglects:
+He sues to be her love; she doth despise:
+She sues to live a maid, which he denies.
+What follows of this wilfull will and shall,
+This no and nay, this quenchless, bootless fire,
+This cold affection and this hot desire,
+The act itself shall tell; and the poor friar
+Your partial favours humbly doth require.
+                                          [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT II., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Sound trumpets. Enter_ KING, BONVILLE, SALISBURY, LORDS.[296]
+
+KING. Now I perceive this only was a dream.
+Divine Matilda's angel did appear,
+Deck'd like a vestal ready for heaven's quire,
+And to this earthly trunk will not come near.
+Well, let her go: I must, i' faith, I must,
+And so I will. Kings' thoughts should be divine;
+So are Matilda's, so henceforth shall mine.
+
+OLD AUB. So doing, peace shall wait upon your crown,
+And blessing upon blessing shall befall.
+
+KING. It's true, my lord: I know full well there shall.
+
+SAL. Your people will wax proud of such a king,
+That of himself is king, lord of his thoughts;
+Which by assertion of philosophers
+Is held to be the greatest empery.
+
+KING. And they said wisely, noble Aubery.
+
+SAL. Then will Fitzwater, with his gallant troop[297],
+Again keep triumph[298] in the English court;
+Then will Matilda--
+
+KING. Matilda! what of her?
+
+SAL. Like a bright star adorn the lovely train
+Of beauteous ladies which attend the queen,
+Whose only beauty equalleth them all.
+
+KING. Like an old fool, whose dim eyes, wanting sight,
+Compar'st the sun to common candle light?
+
+SAL. Pardon, my liege, I do confess her fair[299]
+Exceeds all these as far as day doth night.
+
+KING. Grossly alluded: night by moon, by stars
+By wandering fires, exhaled meteors,
+By artificial lights, by eyes of beasts,
+And little glow-worms glimpsing in the dark,
+Hath somewhere brightness, lightness; and sometime
+Under each horizon in all parts clear:
+But they at no time nowhere can be said
+To be less dark than dungeon darkness is:
+Pitch-colour'd, ebon-fac'd, blacker than black,
+While her fair eyes give beauty to bright day.
+
+SAL. To hear the queen thus prais'd works my content.
+
+KING. The queen!
+O, had I such a thought, I would repent.    [_To himself_.
+
+SAL. Further, my lord--
+
+KING. What, shall we further wade?
+I fear I shall be tired with this jade.
+
+SAL. The commonwealth will flourish and increase.
+
+KING. Good Salisbury,[300] of those things now hold your peace,
+And take the pains to fetch in Isabel.
+I have strange tidings sent me out of France,
+Which she will take, I know, in as good part,
+As I accept her praise. Fetch her, I say.
+                           [_Exit_ SALISBURY.
+What, is the old fool gone? now go thy way.
+What think'st thou of him, Hubert? tell me, man.
+
+HUB. As of a good old gentleman, my lord,
+That speaks but what he thinks, and thinks you think
+As he doth; and, I warrant you,
+Will not conceal those praises from the queen
+Which, as he deems, you utter'd in her praise.
+
+KING. I would have them believe it so, indeed;
+But I protest 'tis no part of my creed.    [_Aside_.
+
+HUB. I'faith, your grace did Salisbury's years great wrong,
+To curtail his good work, that seem'd so long:
+He, peradventure, would have brought in more,
+After his preface, to rich plenty's store.
+Perchance he would have show'd Dame Vanity,
+That in your court is suffered hourly;
+And bade you punish ruffians with long hair,
+New fashions, and such toys. A special care
+Has that good man: he turns the statute-book;
+About his hall and chambers if you look,
+The moral virtues in fair effigy
+Are lively painted: moral philosophy
+Has not a sentence, be it great or small,
+But it is painted on his honour's wall.
+
+    _Enter_ QUEEN _and_ SALISBURY.
+
+KING. Peace, peace! he comes: now let's be silent all.
+
+SAL. I tell you, I was proud of his good words.
+
+QUEEN. God hold them, Salisbury, for it's often seen,
+A reconciled foe small good affords.
+
+SAL. O, forbear! trust me.
+I gage my honour he doth hold you dear.
+
+KING. How cheer you, Isabel? The earl your spouse
+Hath sent defiance to the king your husband,
+And, like a tried tall soldier, fled his holds
+In Marchland, where he knows, despite of him
+And all the men that he therein can raise,
+King John could have sent dogs enou' to tear
+Their ill-arm'd bodies piecemeal, ere his bands
+Should with base blood have stain'd their noble hands.
+And whither is this worshipful good earl
+(This first love, old love, new love, if you will)
+Gone, thinks your ladyship? forsooth, good man,
+To Normandy; and there he stirs up coals,
+And urgeth strong aid for confederates
+Who, as he says, are treacherously disposed.
+
+QUEEN. If he do so, the greater is his sin.
+Poor man. I have no interest in him.
+
+KING. But he hath had in you, as it should seem,
+Else would he not make sonnets of your brow,
+Your eye, your lip, your hand, your thigh.
+A plague upon him! how came he so nigh?
+Nay, now you have the curs'd quean's counterfeit:
+Through rage you shake, because you cannot rave.
+But answer me: why should the bedlam slave
+Entitle a whole poem to your kiss,
+Calling it cherry, ruby, this and this?
+I tell you, I am jealous of your love,
+Which makes me break into this passion.
+Here's the kind noble Aubery de Vere
+Knows what I speak is true.
+My lord, my lord! I do appeal to you,
+Are these things to be borne?
+
+SAL. No, by the rood:
+These love-rhymes are the tokens of small good.
+
+HUB. Why, my good lord, was never poetry
+Offer'd unto a lady's patronage?
+
+SAL. Yes, but not taken[301].
+
+HUB. Yes, and taken too.
+Though moody[302] slaves, whose balladising rhymes
+With words unpolish'd show their brutish thoughts,
+Naming their maukins[303] in each lustful line,
+Let no celestial beauty look awry,
+When well-writ poems, couching her rich praise,
+Are offer'd to her unstain'd, virtuous eye:
+For poetry's high-sprighted sons will raise
+True beauty to all wish'd eternity.
+Therefore, my lord, your age is much to blame
+To think a taken poem lady's shame.
+
+SAL. You see the king, that's better read than you,
+And far more wrong'd than I, takes it not well.
+
+KING. Yes, but I do: I think not Isabel
+The worse for any writing of Le Brun's.[304]
+
+SAL. Will you ha' the truth, my lord, I think so too;
+And though I be an old man, by my sword,
+My arm shall justify my constant word.
+
+QUEEN. After a long storm in a troublous sea,
+The pilot is no gladder of a calm,
+Than Isabel to see the vexed looks
+Of her lov'd lord chang'd into sweet aspects.
+
+KING. I will not tell thee what a world of foes
+For thy love (dear love) rise against my life.
+Matilda's love, few swords will fight for thee.    [_To himself_.
+I will not number up the many woes
+That shall be multiplied: strife upon strife
+Will follow; but to shun ensuing ills,
+I'll take such pledges as shall please me ask
+Of each proud baron dwelling in the realm.
+Bruce, kinsman and the deputy to March,
+Hath a high-minded lady to his wife,
+An able son for arms, and a less boy,
+That is the comfort of his father's life.
+Madam, I know you love the lady well,
+And of her wealth you may be bold to build[305],
+By sending you four hundred white milch kine,
+And ten like-colour'd bulls to serve that herd;
+So fair, that every cow did Ioe seem,
+And every bull Europa's ravisher.
+To friend myself with such a subject's truth,
+Thus I command: you and Earl Salisbury
+Shall, with what speed conveniently ye may,
+Hie ye to Guildford: there the lady lies,
+And her sons too, as I am told by spies.
+All that she hath, I know, she calleth yours;
+All that she hath I gladly would call mine,
+If she abuse ye; if she use ye well,
+For ever be what she retains her own.
+Only go by, as queens in progress do,
+And send me word how she receiveth you.
+
+QUEEN. Well, I avouch, she will, before I go:
+Far be it John should prove Lord Bruce's foe.
+Come, noble Salisbury, I long to be at Guildford.
+
+SAL. In such a business, madam, so do I.
+
+                                        [_Exeunt_.
+
+KING. Go on, good stales[306]: now Guildford is mine own!    [_Aside_.]
+Hubert, I charge you take an hundred horse,
+And follow unto Guildford castle-gates.
+The queen pretend you come to tend upon,
+Sent carefully from us: when you are in,
+Boldly demand the lady for her sons,
+For pledges of her husband's faith and hers:
+Whom when ye have, upon the castle seize,
+And keep it to our use, until we come.
+Meanwhile let me alone with Hugh your son,
+To work a wonder, if no prodigy;
+But whatsoe'er, it shall attempted be.
+
+HUB. Even that which to your majesty
+May seem contentful, thereto I agree.
+
+KING. Go then to Guildford, and a victor be,    [_Exit_ HUBERT.
+Mowbray, our masque: are you and Chester ready?
+
+MOW. We will before your grace, I warrant you.
+
+KING. How think'st of it, Mowbray?
+
+MOW. As on a masque: but for our torch-bearers,
+Hell cannot make so mad a crew as I.
+
+KING. Faith, who is chief?
+
+MOW. Will Brand, my lord;
+But then your grace must curb his cruelty:
+The rein once got, he's apt for villainy.
+
+KING. I know the villain is both rough and grim;
+But as a tie-dog I will muzzle him.
+I'll bring him up to fawn upon my friends.
+And worry dead my foes. But to our masque.
+I mean this night to revel at the feast,
+Where fair Matilda graceth every guest;
+And if my hidden courtesy she grace,
+Old Baynard's Castle, good Fitzwater's place,
+John will make rich with royal England's wealth:
+But if she do not, not those scatter'd bands,
+Dropping from Austria and the Holy Land,
+That boast so much of glorious victories,
+Shall stop the inundations of those woes,
+That like a deluge I will bring on them.
+I know the crew is there; banish all fears:
+If wrong'd, they shall be ours: if welcome, theirs.
+
+                                          [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+    _Enter_ FITZWATER _and his son_: OLD BRUCE _and_
+    YOUNG BRUCE, _and call forth_ MATILDA[307].
+
+FITZ. Why, how now, votary! still at your book?
+Ever in mourning weeds? For shame, for shame!
+With better entertainment cheer our friends.
+Now, by the bless'd cross, you are much to blame
+To cross our mirth thus: you are much to blame,
+I say. Good lord! hath never woe enough
+Of welladay? Indeed, indeed,
+Some sorrow fits, but this is more than need.
+
+MAT. Good father, pardon me:
+You saw I sat the supper and the banquet;
+You know I cannot dance; discourse I shun,
+By reason that my wit, but small before,
+Comes far behind the ripe wits of our age.
+
+YOUNG B. You'll be too ripe for marriage,
+If you delay by day and day thus long.
+There is the noble Wigmore, Lord of the March
+That lies on Wye, Lug[308], and the Severn streams:
+His son is like the sun's sire's Ganymede,
+And for your love hath sent a lord to plead.
+His absence I did purpose to excuse,
+
+    _Enter_ LEICESTER.
+
+But Leicester is the man for him that sues.
+
+FITZ. My cousin Bruce hath been your broker, Leicester;
+At least hath broke the matter to my girl.
+
+LEI. O, for a barber at the time of need,
+Or one of these that dresses periwigs,
+To deck my grey head with a youthful hair!
+But I must to't. Matilda, thus it is!
+Say, can you love me? I am Wigmore's son.
+
+MAT. My cousin said he look'd like Ganymede;
+But you, but you--
+
+LEI. But I, but I, you say,
+Am rather like old Chremes in a play[309];
+But that's a nice objection: I am he,
+But by attorneyship made deputy.
+
+MAT. He's never like to speed well all his life,
+That by attorney sues to win a wife:
+But grant you are, whom you seem nothing like,
+Young Wigmore, the heir to this noble lord--
+He for his son hath sent us ne'er a word.
+
+OLD B. If you grant love, when [that] his son doth woo,
+Then in your jointure he'll send, say, and do.
+
+YOUNG B. And for a doer, cousin, take my word:
+Look for a good egg, he was a good bird;
+Cock o' the game, i' faith, [O,] never fear.
+
+MAT. Ay, but I fear the match will fall out ill,
+Because he says his son is named Will.
+
+FITZ. And why, good daughter? hath some palmister,
+Some augur, or some dreaming calculator
+(For such, I know, you often hearken to),
+Been prating 'gainst the name? go to, go to;
+Do not believe them. Leicester, fall to woo.
+
+MAT. I must believe my father; and 'tis you
+That, if I ought misdid, reprov'd me still,
+And chiding said, "You're wedded to your will."
+
+FITZ. God, for thy mercy! have ye catch'd me there?
+Wigmore is William, woman. Leicester, speak:
+Thou art the simplest wooer in the world.
+
+LEI. You have put me out, and she hath took me down;
+You with your talk, she with her ready tongue.
+You told me I should find her mild and still,
+And scarce a word came from her in an hour:
+Then did I think I should have all the talk,
+Unhinder'd by your willingness to help,
+Unanswer'd, till I had no more to say;
+And then--
+
+YOUNG B. What, then?
+She with a courtly court'sy saying Nay!
+
+MAT. Your friend's attorney might have gone his way
+With as great credit as did that orator
+Which, handling an oration some three hours,
+Ill for the matter, worse than bad for phrase,
+Having said _dixi_, look'd, and found not one
+To praise or dispraise his oration;
+For, wearied with his talk, they all were gone.
+
+FITZ. Now, by my troth, if any troth I have,
+I am as merry at Matilda's mirth,
+As I was glad to see her first day's birth.
+For till this hour, so help me halidom,[310]
+Since the too timely death of Huntington,
+Not a blithe word had passage through her lips.
+
+LEI. See, what a pleasing humour wooers bring.
+
+YOUNG B. O, but ye leave too soon.
+
+LEI. Yet she avers
+I stand too long: shall I choose yours or hers?
+
+MAT. Either forbear, I pray ye, for a while.
+
+    _Enter_ RICHMOND.[311]
+
+Welcome, Lord Richmond.
+
+RICH. What, doth Matilda smile,
+That still like silence solitary sat?
+Then off with widow's weeds, and teach your feet
+(That have forgot for want of exercise,
+And by the means your sorrow had no mean)
+To tread a measure for a gallant crew
+Of courtly masquers landed at the stairs;
+Before whom, unentreated, I am come,
+And have prevented, I believe, their page,
+Who with his torch is enter'd.
+
+FITZ.                          Richmond, thanks,
+If you have aught to say about the masquers.
+Beseech the gentlemen to enter in,
+For they are welcome guests to old Fitzwater.
+                              [_Exit Messenger_.
+Son, son, I pray you fetch the ladies in:
+We have been talking here about a match,
+And left our noble friends in discontent.
+
+RICH. Nay, by my faith we had much merriment,
+Yet thought it long you neither came nor sent.
+
+                   [MATILDA _faints, and sits down_.
+
+FITZ. How now, Matilda? pray thee, cheer thee, girl.
+
+MAT. I thought it was a lightening before death,[312]
+Too sudden to be certain. Good pleasure, stay.
+
+    _Enter Ladies_.
+
+Wilt thou not, wanton? churl, then go thy way.
+
+RICH. What, chang'd so soon? so soon fallen to your dumps?
+Cheerly! the masque comes in.
+
+    [_Enter the Masque_.]
+
+MAT. O[313] God, this veil
+And look fit not this sport. I'll leave it.
+
+LEI. Nay,
+For your love William's sake, fair maiden, stay!
+
+    [_Dance: Masquers take each a lady_, JOHN
+    MATILDA, _but [she] refusing, father.[314]
+    They sit down apart_.
+
+FITZ. This is no courtship, daughter, be not nice,
+You both abuse him and disparage us.
+His fellows had the ladies they did choose,
+And, well, you know here's no more maids than Maud:[315]
+Yourself are all our store. I pray you, rise,
+Or, by my faith, I say you do us wrong.
+
+MAT. I will do what you will. Lead, lead your dance.
+
+KING. You know me by my speech.
+
+MAT. Ay, my liege, ay. O, that temptation's tongue
+Hath[316] nowhere to be plac'd but in your head!
+
+KING. Well, say I have her tongue, had I not need,
+When you have both her eyes, nay, all her shape,
+Able to tempt even Job himself to rape?
+
+MAT. Good my lord, leave, or I will leave the place.
+
+    [_Dance again; and in the first course_ MATILDA
+    _flings from him_: JOHN _follows_.
+
+FITZ. Dance out your galliard: God's dear holy-bread!
+Y'are too forgetful. Dance, or, by my troth,
+You'll move my patience more than I will speak.
+          [_She unwilling_, JOHN _roughly pulls her_.
+Nay, soft, unmanner'd sir: you are too rough:
+Her joints are weak, your arms are strong and tough.
+If ye come here for sport, you welcome be;
+If not, better your room than such bad company.
+                      [JOHN _threatens him by signs_.
+Dost threaten me? then will I see thy face.
+
+KING. And so thou shalt. Look on me, rebel lord!
+Thou that wert late a factious ringleader,
+And in the open field gav'st me fierce fight:
+Art thou again gathering another head,
+That with such rudeness thou dost entertain
+The gentle coming of thy sovereign?
+
+FITZ. My dread lord, hear me, and forgive this fault,
+What I have erst done, long since you forgave:
+If I did lead the barons in the field,
+The barons chose me, when they could not choose
+But make some leader, you were so misled.
+When better thoughts enter'd your royal breast,
+We then obey'd you as our sovereign head.
+
+KING. You did even what you list, and so do still:
+I am the king, but you must have your will.
+The plain truth is, we are not come in sport,
+Though for our coming this was our best cloak;
+For if we never come, till you do send,
+We must not be your guest, while banquets last.
+Contentious brawls you hourly send to us;
+But we may send and send, and you return--
+This lord is sick, that pained with the gout,
+He rid from home. You think I find not out
+Your close confederacies: yes, I do, no doubt.
+
+LEI. If there be here a close confederate,
+God's vengeance light upon him with my hate!
+
+KING. No, you are open, Leicester; that I know.
+
+CHES. I, by the Lord, my lord, your open foe.
+
+LEI. By thy lord's Lord and mine, proud Ralph of Chester,
+Thou durst not say so, wert thou from the king.
+
+MOW. Yes, but he dares and shall.
+
+RICH. Mowbray, if you stand by,
+He dares perchance; else will the dastard fly.
+
+CHES. My own sword shall maintain my tongue's true speech;
+For it is not frequented to such lies,
+As wrangling Leicester and proud Richmond use:
+It cannot set out, like a thundering drum
+Or roaring cannon, stuff'd with nought but brags,
+The multitudes of seas dyed red with blood,[317]
+And famous cities into cinders turn'd
+By their two armed arms.
+
+KING. Ay, Chester;
+And then they show us rags, torn off belike
+From poor decayed ladies' petticoats;
+For neither bill, nor feather'd shot, nor pike
+Make half nor any of those rents they have.
+These, patch'd together, fasten'd unto staves,
+They will not stick to swear have been advanc'd
+Against the Sophy, Soldan, and the Turk.
+
+LEI. Do not maintain proud Chester, my life's liege:
+Your words I must put up; his if I bear--
+
+KING.[318] Yes, you shall bear them, bear, and yet not bite:
+We have you muzzled now. Remember once
+You brav'd us with your bombard boasting words.
+Come (briefly), Leicester, Richmond, both Fitzwaters, Bruce,
+Deliver up your swords immediately;
+And either yield your bodies to our hands,
+Or give such pledges as we shall accept
+Unto our steward Winchester with speed.
+
+LEI. I will not leave my arms, nor break my word,
+Except I be provok'd: your liege-man I am sworn;
+That oath is pledge enough. If you mislike--
+
+KING. Thou hear'st me say I do.
+
+LEI. And I reply:
+That pledge refus'd, I have no more for you.
+
+RICH. And Richmond says as noble Leicester saith.
+Already have we plighted fame and faith
+Which, being scorn'd, returns to us again,
+And by the king's own mouth we are discharged.
+
+KING. Fitzwater, what say you?
+
+FITZ. What pledge desires my liege?
+
+KING. I ask your stubborn daughter.
+
+YOUNG B. That were a gage
+To be engaged.
+
+FITZ. Peace, thou headstrong boy!
+Pardon me, sovereign; all my power is yours;
+My goods you may command, my life you may:
+My children too, I know, with both their lives
+Will readily adventure death's worst wrongs,
+To do such service as true subjects should;
+But honourable fame; true chastity--
+
+KING. Make no exceptions: yield her up to me,
+Or look for ever for my enmity.
+
+FITZ. Nay, then, Fitzwater tells your majesty,
+You do him wrong; and well will let you wit,
+He will defend his honour to the death.
+
+KING. And, Bruce, you are no otherwise disposed:
+You will not give your sons to me for pledge.
+
+BRUCE. I have but one, being my lesser boy,
+Who is at Guildford: for my other son--
+
+KING. He braves me with the rest.
+Well, it is night, and there's no sun to swear by,
+But God's[319] son, and by him I here protest
+A miserable storm this night to raise
+That shall not cease, while England giveth rest
+To such vile traitors. Bruce, I'll begin with you;
+I will, i' faith, as true as God is true.
+
+                          [_Exit_ KING, _cum suis_.
+
+LEI. Then shall a storm be rais'd against a storm,
+And tempest be with tempest beaten back.
+
+FITZ. But this firm island, like the sea, will toss.
+And many goodly buildings go to wrack;
+Many a widow weep her dying son,
+And many a mother to her weeping babes
+Cry out uncomfortably, "Children, peace,
+Your crying unto me is all in vain,
+Dead is my husband, your poor father slain!"
+
+YOUNG B. We cannot help it, uncle.
+
+RICH. No, you see
+Entreats and humble suits have now no power,
+But lust and wrath the kingdom do devour.
+
+BRUCE. Me he did menace first, and much I fear
+He will to Guildford, and besiege my wife.
+
+FITZ. O, hie to save her! Richmond, ride with him.
+
+RICH. Let us away, Bruce, lest we come too late,
+And with us take some score of men well-arm'd.
+
+                   [_Exeunt_ RICHMOND _and_ BRUCE.
+
+FITZ. Do: Leicester and myself will keep the city,
+Till we are furnish'd with an able army.
+Your nephew Bruce shall take an hundred men,[320]
+And post to Hertford Castle with your sister.
+Sith wrong doth[321] wake us, we will keep such watch,
+As for his life he shall not hurt us bring.
+
+                                      [_Exeunt omnes_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT III., SCENE I.
+
+
+   _Enter_ QUEEN, BRUCE'S LADY, HUBERT, SALISBURY.
+
+QUEEN. Be comforted, good madam, do not fear,
+But give your son as pledge unto the king:
+Yourself at court may keep him company.
+
+LADY B. I am betray'd! alas, I am betray'd!
+And little thought your highness had been bent
+So much against me for my many loves,
+As to prepare an entrance for my foe.
+
+QUEEN. As I shall live in heaven, I did not know
+Of Hubert's coming. But lament not this:
+Your son, you say, is gone; what fear you then?
+
+LADY B. O madam, murder, mischief, wrongs of men
+I fear, I fear--what is't I do not fear,
+Sith hope is so far off, despair so near?
+
+SAL. Answer me, good Hubert, I pray thee, Hubert, do:
+What think you of this matter? may I on your word
+Persuade the woman that all things are well?
+
+HUB. You may persuade her if you can, my lord;
+For I protest I know no other thing,
+But that the king would have him for a pledge
+Of the Lord Bruce's faith.
+
+SAL. And reason, too.
+Now, by my honour, Hubert, I protest
+It is good reason: Bruce, I tell you plain,
+Is no sound cloak to keep John from the rain.[322]
+I will go to her.
+
+HUB. Do, good simple earl.
+If not by threats nor my entreats she yield,
+Thy brain is barren of invention,
+Dried up with care; and never will she yield
+Her son to thee, that having power want'st wit.
+
+LADY B. I overhear thee, Hubert.
+
+SAL. So do I, Dame Bruce;
+But stir no coals: the man is well belov'd,
+And merits more than so.
+
+LADY B. But I will answer.
+Hubert, thou fatal keeper of poor babes,
+That are appointed hostages for John,[323]
+Had I a son here, as I have not one,
+(For yesterday I sent him into Wales),
+Think'st thou I would be so degenerate,
+So far from kind, to give him unto thee?
+I would not, I protest: thou know'st my mind.
+
+SAL. Lady, you fear more than you need to do;
+Indeed you do--in very deed you do.
+Hubert is wrong'd about the thing you mean--
+About young Arthur: O, I thought 'twas so:
+Indeed the honest, good, kind gentleman
+Did all he might for safeguard of the child.
+
+QUEEN. Believe me, Madam Bruce, the man is wrong'd.
+
+LADY B. But he wrongs me to keep my castle thus,
+Disarming my true servants, arming his.
+Now more of outrage comes! what shall I do?
+
+    _Enter the_ KING, MOWBRAY, WINCHESTER, CHESTER.
+
+KING. O, this is well! Hubert, where's Bruce's son?
+
+LADY B. Where thou shalt never see him, John.
+
+KING. Lady, we will have talk with you anon.
+Where is he, Hubert?
+
+HUB. Hid or fled, my lord:
+We can by no means get her to confess.
+
+SAL. Welcome to Guildford, Salisbury's liefest lord.[324]
+
+KING. You scarce give welcome, ere I bid you go;
+For you, my lord, the queen and Winchester
+Shall march to Hertford. Sweet Isabel,
+And if thou love me, play the amazon.
+Matilda, that hath long bewitch'd mine eye,
+Is, as I hear by spials, now in Hertford Castle:
+Besiege her there; for now her haughty father
+Ruffians it up and down, and all the brood
+Of viperous traitors whet their poison'd teeth,
+That they may feed on us that foster them.
+Go forward, and go with you victory!
+Which to assure my powers shall follow you.
+
+SAL. Did I not tell you this? then trust me next.
+Nay, he is chang'd, and cares no more for her
+Than I do, madam.
+
+KING. Begone, I say, begone!
+Your speed rich victory attendeth on:
+But your delay
+May give your foes the happy glorious day.
+
+QUEEN. One boon, my liege, and part.
+
+KING. Be brief.
+
+QUEEN. Show that poor lady pity, I beseech.
+
+                                  [_Exeunt_.
+
+KING. I will indeed. Come, lady, let us in.
+You have a son; go in and bring him me,
+And for the queen's sake I will favour ye.
+
+LADY B. I have no son. Come, come; come in and search,
+And if you find him, wretched may I be.
+                                          [_Exit_.
+
+KING. Chester and Hubert, see you keep good watch.
+Not far off do I hear a warlike sound:
+Bruce, on my life! look to't, while I go in
+To seek this boy, for needs we must have him.
+Come with us, Mowbray.
+                                        [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+         _Enter_ BRUCE, RICHMOND, _Soldiers_.
+
+RICH. The castle-gates are shut. What ho! what ho!
+You that are servants to the Lady Bruce,
+Arise, make entrance for your lord and friends.
+
+            _Enter, or above_, HUBERT, CHESTER.[325]
+
+HUB. We will make issue, ere ye enter here.
+Who have we there? Richmond and Bruce, is't you?
+What, up so soon? are ye so early here?
+In you, i' faith, the proverb's verified,
+Y'are early up, and yet are ne'er the near.
+
+RICH. The worse, our fortune. Bruce, let us go hence;
+We have no power to fight, nor make defence.
+
+CHES. What, Richmond, will you prove a runaway?
+
+RICH. From thee, good Chester I now the Lord defend!
+Bruce, we will stay and fight.
+
+BRUCE. 'Tis to no end:
+We have but twenty men, and they be tired.
+But ere we do retire, tell me, Lord Hubert,
+Where are my wife and son?
+
+HUB. Your wife is here; your son we cannot find.
+
+BRUCE. Let son and wife, high heavens, your comfort find!
+
+                                               [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.[326]
+
+
+    _Enter_ KING, MOWBRAY, LADY BRUCE.
+
+CHES. Bruce hath been here, my lord.
+
+KING. Ay, let him go.
+We have good pledges: though we see but one,
+The other we are sure will come anon.
+
+MOW. I do advise you, for your own discharge,
+Deliver up your son unto the king.
+
+KING. Nay, let her choose. Come hither, Mowbray.
+
+            [_The_ KING _and_ MOWBRAY _whisper_.
+
+HUB. The king is angry: Lady Bruce, advise you.
+
+LADY B. What! be advis'd by thee
+To have my loving, kind, and pretty boy
+Given to an unkind killer of sweet boys?
+
+CHES. Madam, go to; take counsel of your friends.
+I warrant you the king will use him well.
+
+LADY B. Ay, as he us'd his nephew Arthur, Chester.
+God bless my child from being used so!
+
+MOW. Sir Hubert, what, are all the people voided,
+The horses and the cattle turned forth?
+
+HUB. Mowbray, they be.
+
+MOW. Then will I do the king's commandment.
+
+LADY B. What will he do? good Lord! what will he do?
+Mowbray, I pray you, what is't you will do?
+
+MOW. Why, fire the castle.
+
+LADY B. The castle, Mowbray? tarry, tarry, man!
+Hold me not, Chester! gentle Mowbray, stay!
+Good Hubert, let me go!
+
+MOW. You must not go:
+The king is mov'd, and will not hear you speak.
+
+LADY B. But he shall hear me! pity me, King John!
+Call Mowbray back: hear me, for pity's sake!
+Regard the Lady Bruce's woful cry!
+
+KING. What dost thou ask?
+
+LADY B. First call back Mowbray.
+
+KING. Stay, Mowbray. Now, be brief.
+
+LADY B. I have some linen garments, jewels, 'tires,
+Pack'd in a hamper here within the lodge:
+O, let me save it from consuming fire!
+
+KING. And is this all?
+
+LADY B. It's all the little all I here have left.
+
+KING. Away! set fire! linen and trash!
+
+LADY B. Once more hear me! there's a precious gem,
+You have not any richer in all the realm:
+If fire do blemish it, art never more
+To his true colour can the same restore.
+
+KING. Fetch it.
+Two of ye help her with her hamper hither.
+
+LADY B. Nay, nay, one will suffice: the jewel if I save,
+Is all I ask.
+                                   [_Exit with_ CHESTER.
+
+KING. We shall her jewel have.
+
+HUB. She is very fearful I should keep her son.
+
+LADY B. [_Within_.] Ye do, ye do!
+
+KING. Alas! good Lady, hark: Chester and she are chiding.
+
+  _Enter_ CHESTER _and she, leading the boy_.
+
+LADY B. Let go his hand! Is this a paw, think you,
+To hold a tender hand in? fie, for shame!
+A nobleman so churlish! Look, I pray,
+His arms are gristless.[327]
+
+KING. How now, Lady Bruce!
+Doth Chester hurt the jewel of your joy?
+Now, by my troth, it is a pretty boy!
+
+LADY B. Ay, knew your majesty as much as I,
+You would say more.
+
+KING. Well, he and you of us no wrong shall have,
+But stay in Windsor Castle with Sir Walter Blunt,
+And honourably be us'd; provided still
+Your husband and your son obey our will.
+
+LADY B. For this great mercy, if they disobey,
+Myself will chide them. Fortune follow John,
+And on his foes fall swift destruction!
+
+KING. Come! let us now after the queen and Salisbury.
+
+                                     [_Exeunt omnes_.
+
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+
+    _Enter the_ QUEEN, SALISBURY, _Soldiers_.
+
+QUEEN. Now are ye, worthy and resolved men,
+Come to the cage where the unclean birds bide,
+That tire[328] on all the fair flight in the realm.
+Summon this castle, or (to keep my words)
+This cage of night-hid owls, light-flying birds.
+                                [_Offer to summon_.
+
+    _Enter_ YOUNG BRUCE, MATILDA, _Soldiers_.
+
+SAL. Stay, drum! thou need'st not summon willing men,
+Or rather wilful, for such methinks they be.
+
+QUEEN. See ye yon baggage, muffled in black weeds:
+Those clouds fold in the comet that portends
+Sad desolation to this royal realm.
+For ever seek to mask her light, good friends:
+Let us disrobe her of each little beam,
+And then your Phoebus will one Phoebe have,
+That while they live shall lend your land true light,
+Give joy unto your day, rest to your night.
+Assail them, stay not.
+
+SAL. Stay, and assay them first!
+I say to you, fair queen, this fact is foul.
+Let not provoking words whet dull-edg'd swords,
+But try if we can blunt sharp blades with words.
+Fitzwater's nephew, Bruce, I see thee there,
+And tell thee it is shame for such a boy
+To lead a many able men to fight.
+And, modest-looking maid, I see you too:
+An unfit sight to view virginity
+Guarded with other soldiers than good prayers.
+But you will say the king occasions it:
+Say what you will, no king but would take cause
+Of just offence.
+Yield you, young Bruce, your mother is in hold.
+Yield you, young maid, your father is in hold.
+
+MAT. Will the queen keep me from the lustful king,
+Then will I yield.
+
+QUEEN. A plague upon this counterfeiting quean.
+
+MAT. God's blessed mercy! will you still be mad,
+And wrong a noble virgin with vile speech?
+
+SAL. Let me alone. Matilda, maiden fair,
+Thou virgin spouse, true Huntington's just heir,
+Wilt thou come hither? and I do protest,
+The queen and I, to mitigate this war,
+Will do what thou wouldst have.
+
+MAT. I come.
+
+BRUCE. You shall not go. Sound, drums, to war!
+Alack, alack, for woe!
+Well, God for us! sith it will needs be so.
+
+                       [_Alarum, fight, stay_.
+
+SAL. What stay you for?
+
+BRUCE. Matilda's cries do stay us.
+
+MAT. Salisbury, I come in hope of thy defence.
+
+BRUCE. First will I die, ere you shall yield yourself
+To any coward lord that serves the king.
+
+SAL. Coward, proud boy! Thou find'st me no such beast,
+And thou shalt rue in earnest this rude jest.
+
+    [_Fight again_. MATILDA _taken, led by the hair
+    by two Soldiers_.
+
+SAL. Rude hands! how hale you virtuous honour forth!
+You do not well: away!
+Now, by my faith, ye do not well, I say.
+Take her, fair queen, use her as she deserves:
+She's fair, she's noble, chaste, and debonair.
+I must, according to due course of war,
+See that our soldiers scatter not too far,
+Lest, what care won, our negligence may lose.
+                                        [_Exit_.
+
+QUEEN. Is this the Helen, this the paragon,
+That makes the English Ilion[329] flame so fast?
+
+MAT. I am not she; you see I am not she:
+I am not ravish'd yet, as Helen was.
+I know not what will come of John's desire,
+That rages like the sea, that burns like fire.
+
+QUEEN. Plain John, proud Joan! I'll tear your painted face.
+Thus, thus I'll use you.    [_Scratches her_.
+
+    _Enter_ SALISBURY.
+
+MAT. Do, do what you will.
+
+SAL. How goes this gear? ha! foul fall so foul deed![330]
+Poor chaste child of Fitzwater, dost thou bleed?
+By God's bless'd mother! this is more than need;
+And more, I tell you true, than I would bear,
+Were not the danger of the camp so near.
+
+    _Enter a_ MESSENGER.
+
+MES. My lord, the foes have gathered head:
+Lord Bruce, the father, joineth with the son.
+
+SAL. Why, here's the matter: we must spend our time
+To keep your nails from scratching innocence,
+Which should have been bestow'd for our defence.
+What shall we now do? Help me, holy God!
+The foe is come, and we are out of rank.
+
+        [_Skirmish_: QUEEN _taken_, MATILDA _rescued_.
+
+    _Enter_ OLD BRUCE _wounded, led by his Son, and_ LEICESTER.
+
+BRUCE. Is the field ours?
+
+YOUNG B. Ay, thanks to noble Leicester.
+
+BRUCE. Give God thanks, son: be careful to thy mother;
+Commend me to Fitzwater; love thy brother,
+If either arms or prayers may him recover.
+
+LEI. How cheers old Bruce?
+
+YOUNG B. His soul to joy is fled,
+His grief is in my bosom buried.
+
+LEI. His life was dearly bought; for my eyes saw
+A shambles of dead men about his feet,
+Sent by his sword into eternal shade.
+With honour bury him. Cease tears, good Bruce.
+
+YOUNG B, Tears help not, I confess, yet must I weep.
+Soldiers, your help to bear him to my tent.
+
+                                [_Exeunt cum_ BRUCE.
+
+    _Enter_ QUEEN _and_ MATILDA.
+
+MAT. Be comforted, great queen: forget my wrongs.
+It was my fortune, and no fault of yours.
+
+QUEEN. Is she thus mild? or doth she mock my chance?
+
+LEI. Queen Isabel,[331] are you a prisoner?
+See what it is to be a soldier.
+But what foul hand hath harm'd Matilda's fair?[332]
+Speak, honourable maid, who tore thy hair?
+Did Salisbury or the queen this violence?
+
+MAT. Ungentle grooms first took and tore me thus,
+From whom old Salisbury, chastising their wrong,
+Most kindly brought me to this gentle queen;
+Who laid her soft hand on my bleeding cheeks,
+Gave kisses to my lips, wept for my woe;
+And was devising how to send me back,
+Even when your last alarum frighted us,
+And by her kindness fell into your hands.
+
+LEI. Which kindness we return: Madam, be free.
+Soldiers, conduct the queen whither she please.
+
+QUEEN. Farewell, Matilda; if I live, believe
+I will remember this. O, how I grieve
+That I should wrong so innocent a maid!
+Come, lady, old Fitzwater is not far:
+He'll weep to see these scars, full well I know.
+
+MAT. Would I were from this woful world of war!
+Sure I will 'scape, and to some nunnery go.
+
+                                     [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+
+    _Enter_ KING, SALISBURY, HUBERT.
+
+KING. Had you her, then, had you her in your power?
+
+SAL. Ay, marry had we: we had taken her.
+
+KING. O, had she been in mine, not all earth's power
+From my power should have freed her!
+
+SAL. You are a king, and high are princes' thoughts:
+It may be, with your sight you could have chas'd
+A host of armed men; it may be so:
+But we, your subjects, did the best we could.
+Yet Bruce the father, backing Bruce the son,
+Scatter'd our troops, brought rescue to Matilda,
+And took your peerless queen their prisoner.
+
+KING. On all the race of Bruces for this wrong
+I will have vengeance! Hubert, call in Brand.    [_Exit_ HUBERT.
+My Lord of Salisbury, give us leave awhile
+To be alone.
+
+SAL. I will, my liege. Be you comforted;
+The queen will be recovered, do not fear,
+As well as e'er she was.
+
+KING. Salisbury, forbear, I pray.
+
+SAL. Yet for the wrong she did unto Matilda,
+I fear, I fear--
+                    [_Exit_.
+
+KING. The father and the son did rescue her;
+The mother and the son shall rue the deed.
+So it shall be; I am resolv'd thereon.
+Matilda, my soul's food, those have bereft,
+And these of body's food I will bereave.
+
+    _Enter_ HUBERT [_with_] BRAND.
+
+KING. Will Brand.
+
+BRAND. Your majesty.    [_Make legs_.
+
+KING. Less of your court'sy. Hubert, stand aside.
+Post speedily to Windsor; take this ring;
+Bid Blunt deliver Bruce's wife and child
+Into your hands, and ask him for the key
+Of the dark tower o'er the dungeon vault:
+In that see you shut up the dam and brat.
+Pretend to Blunt that you have left them meat,
+Will serve some se'ennight; and unto him say,
+It is my will you bring the key away.
+And hear you, sir, I charge you on your life,
+You do not leave a bit of bread with them.
+
+BRAND. I warrant you; let me alone.
+
+KING. Come back again with all the speed you may.
+
+                                   [_Exit_ BRAND.
+
+HUB. Some cruel task is pointed for that slave,
+Which he will execute as cruelly.    [_Aside_.]
+
+KING. No ruth, no pity shall have harbour here,
+Till fair Matilda be within these arms.
+
+    _Enter_ SALISBURY _with the_ QUEEN.
+
+SAL. Comfort, my lord; comfort, my gracious lord;
+Your love is come again!
+
+KING. Ah, Salisbury! where?
+
+SAL. Here, my dread sovereign.
+
+KING. Thou liest; she is not there.
+
+SAL. Under correction you wrong my age.
+Say, I beseech you, is not this the queen?
+
+KING. I cry you mercy, Salisbury; 'tis indeed.
+Where is Matilda?
+
+QUEEN. Where virtue, chastity, and innocence remain,
+There is Matilda.
+
+KING. How comes she, pray, to be so chaste, so fair:
+So virtuous in your eye?
+
+QUEEN. She freed me from my foes, and never urg'd
+My great abuse when she was prisoner.
+
+KING. What did you to her!
+
+QUEEN. Rail'd upon her first,
+Then tare her hair, and rent her tender cheeks.
+
+KING. O heaven! was not the day dark at that foul deed?
+Could the sun see without a red eclipse
+The purple tears fall from those tyrant wounds?
+Out, Ethiop, gipsy, thick-lipped blackamoor!
+Wolf, tigress! worse than either of them both!
+
+SAL. Are you advis'd, my lord?
+
+KING. Out, doting earl!
+Couldst thou endure to see such violence?
+
+SAL. I tell you plain, my lord, I brook'd it not.
+But stay'd the tempest.
+
+KING. Rend my love's cheeks! that matchless effigy
+Of wonder-working nature's chiefest work:
+Tear her rich hair! to which gold wires,
+Sun's rays, and best of best compares
+(In their most pride) have no comparison.
+Abuse her name! Matilda's sacred name!
+O barbarous outrage, rudeness merciless!
+
+QUEEN. I told you, Salisbury, you mistook the king.
+
+SAL. I did indeed. My liege lord, give me leave
+To leave the camp.
+
+KING. Away, old fool! and take with thee that trull;
+For if she stay--
+
+SAL. Come, lady, come away,
+Tempt not his rage. Ruin wrath always brings:
+Lust being lord, there is no trust in kings.
+
+                                   [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Enter_ MOWBRAY.
+
+MOW. To arms, King John! Fitzwater's field is pitch'd
+About some mile hence on a champain[333] plain.
+Chester hath drawn our soldiers in array:
+The wings already have begun the fight.
+
+KING. Thither we will with wings of vengeance fly,
+And win Matilda, or lose victory!
+
+                                        [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT IV., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ LADY BRUCE _and her_ BOY _with_ BRAND.
+
+LADY B. Why did my keeper put us in thy hands?
+Wherein have we offended Blunt or thee?
+
+BRAND. You need not make these words:
+You must remove your lodging; this is all.
+Be not afeard: come, come, here is the door.
+
+LADY B. O God, how dark it is!
+
+BRAND. Go in, go in; it's higher up the stairs.
+
+LADY B. My trembling heart forbids me to go in.
+O, if thou have compassion, tell me true,
+What my poor boy and I must trust unto?
+
+BRAND. I tell thee true, compassion is my foe;
+Yet have I had of thee compassion.
+Take in thy child: as I have faith or troth,
+Thou and thy boy shall be but prisoners,
+And I must daily bring you meat and drink.
+
+LADY B. Well, thou hast sworn, and God so give thee light,
+As in this dark place thou rememb'rest us.
+Poor heart, thou laugh'st, and hast not wit to think
+Upon the many fears that me afflict.
+I will not in. Help us, assist us, Blunt!
+We shall be murdered in a dungeon!
+
+BRAND. Cry without cause? I'll have ye in, i' faith.
+
+LADY B. O, let my boy and I but dine with Blunt,
+And then I will with patience go in.
+
+BRAND. Will ye or nill ye, zounds! ye must go in,
+And never dine.
+
+LADY B. What say'st thou I never dine!
+
+BRAND. No--not with Blunt, I mean. Go in, I say;
+Or by this hand ye get no meat to-day.
+
+LADY B. My child is hungry: when shall he have meat?
+
+BRAND. Why, and ye would go in, immediately.
+
+LADY B. I will go in; but very much I doubt,
+Nor I nor my poor boy shall e'er come out.
+
+                      [_Exeunt. He seems to lock a door_.
+
+BRAND. Ne'er, while ye live, i' faith! now are they sure.
+Cry, till their hearts ache, no man can them hear.
+A miserable death is famishment;
+But what care I? The king commanded me.
+                                          [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    _Alarum within: excursions: enter_ FITZWATER, BRUCE.
+
+FITZ. Now doth fair fortune offer hope of speed;
+But howsoe'er we speed, good cousin Bruce,
+March with three hundred bows and pikes to Windsor,
+Spreading a rumour that the day is ours,
+As ours it shall be with the help of heaven.
+Blunt loves our part far better than the king's,
+And will, I gage my life, upon the news
+Surrender up the castle to our use.
+By this means shall you help us to a hold,
+Howe'er it chance: set free your lady mother,
+That lives in prison there with your young brother.
+
+BRUCE. Away, good uncle, to the battle go!
+But that a certain good ensues, I know,
+For all the world I would not leave you so.
+
+FITZ. Away, away!
+God send thee Windsor: us this happy day.
+
+    _Alarum still. Enter_ HUBERT _and_ MATILDA.[334]
+
+HUB. You cannot hide yourself, Matilda; no disguise
+Will serve the turn: now must you to the king,
+And all these wars will with your presence cease.
+Yield you to him, he soon will yield to peace.
+
+MAT. They say thou took'st some pity of a child,
+The king appointing thee to sear his eyes;
+Men do report thee to be just of word,
+And a dear lover of my lord the king.
+If thou didst that, if thou be one of these,
+Pity Matilda, prostrate at thy feet.
+
+HUB. I sav'd young Arthur's eyes, and pity thee;
+My word is just, which I have given the king;
+The king I love, and thee I know he loves:
+Compare these, then how can I pleasure thee?
+
+MAT. By letting me escape to Dunmow Abbey,
+Where I will end my life a votary.
+
+HUB. And the king die with doting on thy love?
+
+MAT. No, no; this fire of lust would be soon laid,
+If once he knew me sworn a holy maid.
+
+HUB. Thy tears and love of virtue have the power
+To make me at an instant true and false:
+True to distressed beauty and rare chastity;
+False to King John, that holds the sight of thee
+Dearer than England or earth's empery.
+Go, happy soul, that in so ill an age
+Hast such fair beauty for thy heritage:
+Yet go not so alone. Dost hear, tall soldier?
+                           [_Call a Soldier_.
+I know thee honest: guide this gentle maid
+To Dunmow Abbey: she is one I know.
+I will excuse thee, and content thee well;
+My signet take, that ye may pass unsearch'd.
+
+MAT. Kind Hubert, many prayers for this good deed
+Shall on my beads be daily numbered.
+
+                                        [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Enter_ LEICESTER, RICHMOND, FITZWATER.
+
+LEI. O treble heat of honour, toil, and rage!
+How cheers Earl Richmond? Fitzwater, speak, old man.
+We are now near together: answer me.
+
+FITZ. Leicester, the more our woe,
+The likelier to be taken by the foe.
+
+RICH. O, let not such a thought abuse thy age!
+We'll never yield us to the tyrant's rage.
+
+LEI. But if my girl be yielded--
+If she be!
+
+FITZ. Ay, ay--
+There's no man but shall have his time to die.
+
+LEI. Now is our hour, which they shall dearly by.
+
+    _Enter_ KING, HUBERT, CHESTER, MOWBRAY.
+
+RICH. Leicester, we'll stand like three battalions:
+What says our noble general thereto?
+
+FITZ. Why, I say, do:
+[And] while I can, I'll keep my place with you.
+
+KING. How now, my bugbear, will you now submit?
+
+LEI. To death, but not to thee.
+
+KING. Richmond, nor you?
+
+RICH. Earl Richmond will not yield.
+
+KING. Methinks, Fitzwater, you should have more wit.
+
+FITZ. If it be wit to live, I have no will;
+And so in this my will o'errules my wit.
+
+KING. Alarum then! with weapons will we scourge
+Your desperate will, and teach ye to have wit.
+
+                  [_Fight: drive back the_ KING.
+
+KING. Of high heroic spirits be they all.
+We will withdraw a little, and confer,
+For they are circled round, and cannot 'scape.
+                                   [_Withdraw_.
+
+RICH. O that we three who, in the sun's arise
+Were, like the three Triumviri[335] of Rome,
+Guides of an host, able to vanquish Rome,
+Are now alone, enclos'd with enemies!
+
+FITZ. The glory of the world hath no more stay,
+But as it comes, it fleets, and fades away.
+
+LEI. Courage, and let us die! they come again:
+It's Lord Hubert alone. Hubert, what news?[336]
+
+    _Enter_ HUBERT.
+
+HUB. This day's fierce slaughter, John our king laments,
+And to you three, great leaders of an host,
+That now have not a man at all to lead,
+You worthy captains without companies--
+
+LEI. Fitzwater! Richmond! by the blessed sun,
+Lord Hubert mocks us.
+
+HUB. By the moon, I do not; and put the blessed to't,
+It is as good an oath as you have sworn.
+My heart grieves that so great hearts as yours be
+Should put your fortunes on a sort[337] of slaves,
+That bring base fear within them to the field.
+But to the matter--sith your state is such,
+That without mercy you are sure of death
+(Which I am sure, and well his highness knows,
+You do not fear at all), yet he gives grant,
+On just conditions you shall save your lives.
+
+FITZ. On no condition will I save my life,
+Except Matilda be return'd again,
+Unblemish'd, unabus'd; and then I yield.
+
+HUB. She now is where she never will return.
+
+FITZ. Never? O God! is my Matilda dead?
+
+HUB. Dead to the world; dead to this woe she is.
+She lives at Dunmow, and is vow'd a nun.
+
+FITZ. Do not delude me, Hubert, gentle son.
+
+HUB. By all the faith and honour of my kin,
+By my unstain'd allegiance to the king.
+By my own word, that hath reproveless been,
+She is at Dunmow.
+
+FITZ. O, how came she there?
+
+HUB. When all these fields were walks for rage and fear:
+This howling like a head of hungry wolves,[338]
+That, scudding as a herd of frighted deer:
+When dust, arising like a coal-black fog,
+From friend divided friend, join'd foe to foe,
+Yet neither those nor these could either know;
+Till here and there, through large wide-mouthed wounds,
+Proud life, even in the glory of his heat
+Losing possession, belch'd forth streams of blood,
+Whose spouts in falling made ten thousand drops,
+And with that purple shower the dust allay'd--
+At such a time met I the trembling maid;
+Seeming a dove from all her fellows parted--
+Seen, known, and taken; unseen and unknown
+To any other that did know us both,
+At her entreats I sent her safely guided
+To Dunmow Abbey; and the guide return'd
+Assures me she was gladfully receiv'd,
+Pitied, and in his sight did take her oath.
+
+FITZ. Hubert, for this thy honourable deed
+I and my house will reverence thy name.
+
+HUB. Yet, I beseech you, hide it from the king;
+At least that I convey'd her to the place.
+
+    _Enter_ KING, MOWBRAY, CHESTER.
+
+FITZ. Hubert, I will.
+
+KING. What, stand they still on terms?
+
+LEI. On honourable terms, on terms of right.
+Our lives without our liberty we scorn.
+
+KING. You shall have life and liberty, I swear.
+
+LEI. Then Leicester bows his knee to his liege lord,
+And humbly begs his highness to beware
+Of wronging innocence, as he hath done.
+
+RICH. The like Richmond desires, and yields his sword.
+
+KING. I do embrace ye both, and hold myself
+Richer by a whole realm in having you.
+
+FITZ. Much is my wrong; yet I submit with these,
+Begging free leave to live a private life.
+
+KING. Old brands of malice in thy bosom rest:
+Thou shalt have leave to leave me, never doubt.
+Fitzwater, see thou ship thee straight for France,
+And never set thy foot on English shore,
+Till I repeal thee. Go, go hence in peace.
+
+LEI. Why doth your highness wrong Fitzwater thus?
+
+KING. I right his wrong; he's weary of the land.
+
+RICH. Not of the land, but of a public life.
+
+KING. Content ye, lords: in such quick times as these
+We must not keep a drone among our bees.
+
+FITZ. I am as glad to go as you to send:
+Yet I beseech this favour of your grace,
+That I may see Matilda, ere I part.
+
+KING. Matilda! see Matilda, if thou canst,
+Before sunset: stay not another day.
+
+FITZ[339]. The abbey-walls, that shroud my happy child,
+Appear within her hapless father's sight.
+Farewell, my sovereign, Leicester, Richmond, lords:
+Farewell to all; grief gives no way to words.
+
+KING. Fitzwater, stay: lords, give us leave awhile.
+Hubert, go you before unto the abbess,
+And signify our coming. Let her bring
+Matilda to her father. (_Exit_ HUBERT.) Come, old man;
+Be not too froward, and we shall be friends.
+About this girl our mortal jars began,
+And, if thou wilt, here all our quarrel ends.
+
+FITZ. Reserve my honour and my daughter's fame,
+And no poor subject that your grace commands
+Shall willinger submit, obey, and serve.
+
+KING. Do then but this. Persuade thy beauteous child
+To leave the nunnery and return to court,
+And I protest from henceforth to forswear
+All such conceits of lust as I have borne.
+
+FITZ. I will, my lord, do all that I may do;
+But give me leave in this to doubt of you.
+
+KING. This small thing grant, and ask me anything;
+Or else die in exile, loath'd of the king.
+
+FITZ. You shall perceive I will do what I may.
+
+    _Enter on the wall_, ABBESS, MATILDA. _Re-enter_ HUBERT.
+
+HUB. Matilda is afraid to leave the house;
+But lo, on yonder battlement she stands,
+But in no case will come within your hands.
+
+KING. What! will my lady-abbess war[340] with us?
+Speak, lady; wherefore shut you up your gates?
+
+ABB. Have we not reason, when an host of men
+Hunt and pursue religious chastity?
+King John, bethink thee what thou tak'st in hand
+On pain of interdiction of thy land.
+Murderers and felons may have sanctuary,
+And shall not honourable maids distress'd,
+Religious virgins, holy nuns profess'd,
+Have that small privilege? Now, out upon thee, out!
+Holy Saint Catherine, shield my virginity!
+I never stood in such extremity.
+
+HUB. My lord, the abbess lies, I warrant you;
+For I have heard there is a monk of Bury,
+That once a week comes thither to make merry.
+
+KING. Content thee, Hubert; that same monk and she,
+And the worst come, my instruments shall be.
+Good lady-abbess, fear no violence;
+There's not one here shall offer you offence.
+
+FITZ. Daughter, all this while tears my speech have stay'd.
+My lord the king, lords, all draw near, I pray,
+And hear a poor man's parting from his child.
+Matilda, still my unstain'd honour's joy,
+Fair ornament of old Fitzwater's coat,[341]
+Born to rich fortunes, did not this ill-age
+Bereave thee of thy birthright's heritage,
+Thou see'st our sovereign--lord of both our lives,
+A long besieger of thy chastity--
+Hath scatter'd all our forces, slain our friends,
+Razed our castles, left us ne'er a house
+Wherein to hide us from his wrathful eye:
+Yet God provides; France is appointed me,
+And thou find'st house-room in this nunnery.
+Here, if the king should dote as he hath done,
+It's sacrilege to tempt a holy nun:
+But I have hope he will not; yet my fear
+So drowns my hope, as I am forc'd to stay,
+And leave abruptly what I more would say.
+
+MAT. O, go not yet, my griev'd heart's comforter!
+I am as valiant to resist desire
+As ever thou wert worthy in the field.
+John may attempt, but if Matilda yield,
+O, then--
+
+FITZ. Ay, then, Matilda, thou dost lose
+The former glory of thy chaste resolves.
+These seven years hast thou bid[342] a martyr's pains,
+Resisting in thyself lust-growing fire,
+For, being mortal, sure thou hast desire;
+And five sad winters have their full course run,
+Since thou didst bury noble Huntington.
+In these years many months and many days
+Have been consum'd thy virtues to consume.
+Gifts have been heralds; panders did presume
+To tempt thy chaste ears with their unchaste tongues:
+All in effect working to no effect;
+For I was still the watchman of thy tower,
+The keeper of foul worms from my fair flower.
+But now no more, no more Fitzwater may
+Defend his poor lamb from the lion's prey--
+Thy order and thy holy prayers may.
+To help thee thou hast privilege by law;
+Therefore be resolute, and nobly die!
+Abhor base lust, defend thy chastity.
+
+KING. Despatch, Fitzwater: hinder not thy child:
+Many preferments do on her await.
+
+FITZ. Ay, girl, I know thou shalt be offer'd wealth,
+Which is a shrewd enticement in sad want,
+Great honours to lift up thy low estate,
+And glorious titles to eternise thee.
+All these do but gild over ugly shame;
+Such wealth, my child, foreruns releaseless need,
+Such honour ever proves dishonourate.
+For titles, none comes near a virtuous name:
+O, keep it ever, as thou hast done yet!
+And though these dark times should forget thy praise,
+An age will come that shall eternise it.
+Bid me farewell, and speak it in a word.
+
+MAT. Farewell, dear father.
+
+FITZ. O, farewell, sweet child.
+My liege, farewell: Leicester, Richmond, Hubert,
+Chester and Mowbray, friends and foes, farewell.
+Matilda, see thou keep thy spotless fame,
+And live eternis'd, else die soon with shame.
+                                        [_Exit_.
+
+MAT. Amen, amen: father, adieu, adieu!
+Grief dwells with me, sweet comfort follow you!
+
+ABB. Come, daughter, come. This is a woful sight,
+When good endeavours are oppress'd by might.
+
+            [_Exeunt from above_ ABBESS, MATILDA.
+
+KING. Ah, Hubert! seest thou not the sun go down,
+Cloudy and dark? Matilda, stay! one word.
+She shakes her head, and scornfully says nay.
+
+RICH. How cheer'st thou, Leicester?
+
+LEI. Mad, man, at my state,
+That cannot raise true honour ruinate.
+
+    _Enter_ MESSENGER.
+
+KING. I will not be disdain'd. I vow to see
+Quick vengeance on this girl for scorning me.
+
+MES. Young Bruce, my lord, hath gotten Windsor Castle,
+Slain Blunt your constable, and those that kept it;
+And finding in a tower his mother dead,
+With his young brother starv'd and famished,
+That every one may see the rueful sight,
+In the thick wall he a wide window makes;
+And as he found them, so he lets them be,
+A spectacle to every comer-by,
+That heaven and earth your tyrant shame may see.
+All people cursing, crying fie upon,
+The tyrant, merciless, inhuman John.
+
+KING. Chester and Mowbray, march away to Windsor:
+Suppress that traitor Bruce. What, if his dam
+In wilful fury would receive no meat,
+Nor suffer her young child any to eat,
+Is it our fault? haste ye with speed away,
+And we will follow. Go; begone, I pray.
+
+               [_Exeunt_ CHESTER, MOWBRAY.
+
+HUB. O black and woful deed! O piteous thing,
+When slaves attend the fierce thoughts of a king.
+
+LEI. My lord, shall we go too?
+
+KING. Leicester and Richmond, ay, I pray ye, do.
+
+LEI. Get I my bear and ragged staff once more
+Rais'd in the field, for these wrongs some shall roar.
+
+                        [_Exeunt_ RICHMOND, LEICESTER.
+
+KING. Fetch in the monk of Bury, that I talk'd of,
+                      [_Exeunt_ HUBERT _for the_ MONK.
+And bid Will Brand, my instrument of death,
+Come likewise in. Convert to raging hate
+
+    _Enter_ MONK, HUBERT, BRAND.
+
+My long-resisted love! welcome, good monk.
+
+MONK. Thanks to my liege.
+
+KING. Thou hast been long in suit
+To be installed abbot of your house,
+And in your favour many friends have stirr'd.
+Now is the hour that you shall be preferr'd
+Upon condition--and the matter small.
+Short shrift to make, good honest confessor,
+I love a fair nun, now in Dunmow Abbey:
+The abbess loves you, and you pleasure her;
+Now, if between you two this pretty lady
+Could be persuaded to affect a king,
+Your suit is granted, and on Dunmow Abbey
+I will bestow a hundred marks a year.
+
+MONK. A holy nun! a young nun! and a lady!
+Dear wear, my lord; yet bid you well as may be.
+Strike hands; a bargain: she shall be your own,
+Or if she will not--
+
+KING. Nay, if she do refuse,
+I'll send a death's man with you; this is he.
+If she be wilful, leave her to his hands,
+And on her own head be her hasted end.
+
+MONK. The matter shall be done.
+
+KING. Sirrah, what poisons have you ready?
+
+BRAND. Store, store.
+
+KING. Wait on the monk, then, and ere we take horse,
+I'll give you such instructions as you need.
+Hubert, repair[343] to Windsor with our host.
+
+           [_Exeunt_ KING, MONK, _and_ BRAND.
+
+HUB. Your tyrannies have lost my love almost,
+And yet I cannot choose but love eternally
+This wanton king, replete with cruelty.
+O, how are all his princely virtues stain'd
+With lust abhorred and lascivious heat
+Which, kindling first to fire, now in a flame,
+Shows to the whole world clearly his foul shame.
+To quench this flame full many a tide of tears,
+Like overflowing-full seas, have been spent;
+And many a dry land drunk with human blood;
+Yet nothing helps his passions violent:
+Rather they add oil to his raging fire,
+Heat to his heat, desire to his desire.
+Somewhat, I fear, is now a-managing,
+For that prodigious bloody stigmatic[344]
+Is never call'd unto his kingly sight,
+But like a comet he portendeth still
+Some innovation or some monstrous act,
+Cruel, unkindly, horrid, full of hate;
+As that vile deed at Windsor done of late.
+Gentle Matilda, somewhat I mistrust;
+Yet thee I need not fear, such is his love.
+Again, the place doth give thee warrantise;
+Yet I remember when his highness said,
+The lustful monk of Bury should him aid.
+Ay, so it is: if she have any ill,
+Through the lewd shaveling will her shame be wrought.
+If it so chance, Matilda's guiltless wrong
+Will with the loss of many a life be bought.
+But Hubert will be still his dread lord's friend,
+However he deserves, his master serve;
+Though he neglect, him will I not neglect:
+Whoever fails him, I will John affect;
+For though kings fault[345] in many a foul offence,
+Subjects must sue, not mend with violence.
+                                           [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+
+    _Enter_ OXFORD, QUEEN.
+
+OX. Now, by my faith, you are to blame, madam,
+Ever tormenting, ever vexing you:
+Cease of these fretting humours: pray ye, do.
+Grief will not mend it; nought can pleasure you
+But patient suffering; nor, by your grace's leave,
+Have you such cause to make such hue and cry
+After a husband; you have not in good sooth.
+Yearly a child! this payment is not bad.
+Content, fair queen, and do not think it strange,
+That kings do sometimes seek delight in change:
+For now and then, I tell you, poor men range.
+Sit down a little, I will make you smile.
+Though I be now like to the snowy Alps,
+I was as hot as Aetna in my youth;
+All fire, i' faith, true heart of oak, right steel--
+A ruffian, lady. Often for my sport
+I to a lodge of mine did make resort,
+To view my dear, I said; dear God can tell,
+It was my keeper's wife whom I lov'd well.
+My countess (God be with her) was a shrow,
+As women be, your majesty doth know;
+And some odd pick-thank put it in her head,
+All was not well: but such a life I led,
+And the poor keeper and his smooth-fac'd wife,
+That, will I, nill I, there she might not bide.
+But for the people I did well provide;
+And by God's mother, for my lady's spite,
+I trick'd her in her kind, I serv'd her right.
+Were she at London, I the country kept;
+Come thither, I at London would sojourn;
+Came she to court, from court I straightway stepp'd;
+Return, I to the court would back return.
+So this way, that way, every way she went,
+I still was retrograde, sail'd[346] opposite:
+Till at the last, by mildness and submission,
+We met, kiss'd, joined, and here left all suspicion.
+
+QUEEN. Now out upon you, Vere: I would have thought
+The world had not contain'd a chaster man.
+
+OX. Now, by my fay, I will be sworn I am.
+In all I tell you I confess no ill,
+But that I curb'd a froward woman's will:
+Yet had my keeper's wife been of my mind,
+There had been cause some fault with us to find;
+But I protest her noes and nays were such,
+That for my life she ever kept go much.[347]
+
+QUEEN. You would take nay, but our King John says no;
+No nay, no answer will suffice his turn:
+He, for he cannot tempt true chastity,
+Fills all the land with hostile cruelty.
+Is it not shame, he that should punish sin,
+Defend the righteous, help the innocent,
+Carves with his sword the purpose of his will
+Upon the guarders of the virtuous,
+And hunts admired, spotless maidenhead
+With all the darts of desolation,
+Because she scorneth to be dissolute?
+Me that he leaves, I do not murmur at;
+That he loves her, doth no whit me perplex,
+If she did love him, or myself did hate:
+But this alone is it that doth me vex:
+He leaves me that loves him, and her pursues,
+That loathes him and loves me. How can I choose
+But sadly grieve, and mourn in my green youth,
+When nor of her nor me he taketh ruth?
+
+OX. Ha' done, good queen: for God's good love, ha' done:
+This raging humour will no doubt be stay'd.
+Virtuous Matilda is profess'd a nun;
+Within a mile (at Dunmow) lives the maid.
+God will not suffer anything so vile;
+He will not, sure, that he should her defile.
+
+QUEEN. No church nor chapel, abbey, nunnery,
+Are privileg'd from his intemperance.
+But leave we him, and let us, I entreat,
+Go visit fair Matilda: much I am
+In debt unto the maid.
+
+OX. You are indeed;
+You wrong'd her, when with blows you made her bleed.
+But if you please to visit her, fair dame,
+Our coach is ready: we will soon be there.
+
+QUEEN. Thanks, Oxford; and with us I mean to bear
+The beauteous garland sent me out of Spain,
+Which I will offer in the abbey chapel,
+As witness of Matilda's chastity;
+Whom, while I live, I ever vow to love,
+In recompense of rash and causeless wrong.
+
+
+
+
+ACT V., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ BRAND _solus; with cup, bottle of poison_.
+
+BRAND. Good, by this hand! exceeding, passing good!
+The dog no sooner drank it, but yugh! yugh! quoth he:
+So grins me with his teeth, lies down and dies:
+Yugh! quoth I: by God's blood, go thy ways.
+Of all thy line and generation,
+Was never dog so worshipp'd as thou art,
+For, ere thou died'st, thou wert an officer,
+I lie not, by these[348] nails: a squire's place;
+For the vile cur became a countess's taster:
+So died the dog. Now in our next account
+The countess comes; let's see, a countess and a nun:
+Why so, why so!
+What, would she have the whole world quite undone?
+We'll mete[349] her for that trick. What, not a king?
+Hanging's too good for her. I am but a plain knave.
+And yet should any of these "no forsooths,"
+These pray-aways, these trip-and-goes, these tits,
+Deny me, now by these--
+A plague upon this bottle and this cup,
+I cannot act mine oath! but to't again--
+By these ten ends of flesh and blood[350] I swear,
+First with this hand, wound thus about her hair,
+
+And with this dagger lustily lambeak'd[351]--
+I would, i' faith, ay, by my villainy,
+I would.--But here, but here she comes,
+Led by two doctors in sweet lechery.
+If they speed, with my poison I go by;
+If not, have at you, maid: then step in I.
+
+    _Enter_ MATILDA, _between the_ MONK _and the_ ABBESS.[352]
+
+MONK. And as I said, fair maid, you have done well,
+In your distress, to seek this holy place.
+But tell me truly, how do you expel
+The rage of lust-arising heat in you?
+
+MAT. By prayer, by fasting, by considering
+The shame of ill, and meed of doing well.
+
+ABB. But daughter, daughter, tell me in my ear,
+Have you no fleshly fightings now and then?    [_Whisper_.
+
+BRAND. Fleshly, quoth you, a maid of three-score years?
+And fleshly fightings sticking in her teeth?
+Well, wench, thou'rt match'd, i' faith.    [_Aside_.]
+
+ABB. You do confess the king has tempted you,
+And thinking now and then on gifts and state,
+A glowing heat hath proudly puff'd you up:
+But, thanks to God, his grace hath done you good.
+
+MONK. Who? the king's grace?
+
+MAT. No; God's grace, holy monk.
+
+MONK. The king's grace would fain do you good, fair maid.
+
+MAT. Ill-good: he means my fame to violate.
+
+ABB. Well, let that be.
+
+BRAND. Good bawd, good mother B.[353]
+How fain you would that that good deed should be!    [_Aside_.]
+
+ABB. I was about to say somewhat upon a thing:
+O, thus it is.
+We maids that all the day are occupied
+In labour and chaste, hallow'd exercise,
+Are nothing so much tempted, while day lasts,
+As we are tried and proved in the night.
+Tell me, Matilda, had you, since you came,
+No dreams, no visions, nothing worth the note?
+
+MAT. No, I thank God.
+
+ABB. Truly you will, you will,
+Except you take good heed, and bless yourself;
+For if I lie but on my back awhile
+I am, past recovery, sure of a bad dream.
+You see yon reverend monk: now, God he knows,
+I love him dearer for his holiness,
+And I believe the devil knows it too;
+For the foul fiend comes to me many a night,
+As like the monk, as if he were the man--
+Many a hundred nights the nuns have seen,
+Pray, cry, make crosses, do they what they can--
+Once gotten in, then do I fall to work,
+My holy-water bucket being near-hand,
+I whisper secret spells, and conjure him,
+That the foul fiend hath no more power to stand:
+He down, as I can quickly get him laid,
+I bless myself, and like a holy maid,
+Turn on my right side, where I sleep all night
+Without more dreams or troubling of the sprite.
+
+BRAND. An abbess? By the cross of my good blade,[354]
+An excellent mother to bring up a maid!
+For me, I mean, and my good master John;
+But never any for an honest man.    [_Coughs_.
+Now, fie upon that word of honesty,
+Passing my throat't had almost choked me:
+'Sblood, I'll forswear it for this trick.    [_Aside_.]
+
+MONK. We trifle time. Fair maid, it's thus in brief:
+This abbey by your means may have relief;
+An hundred marks a year. Answer, I pray,
+What will you do herein?
+
+MAT. Even all I may.
+
+ABB. It's charitably spoken, my fair child:
+A little thing of yours, a little help,
+Will serve the turn: learn but to bear--to bear
+The burden of this world, and it will do.
+
+BRAND. Well, go thy ways: is this no bawd, think you?    [_Aside_.]
+
+MAT. Madam, the heavy burden of the world
+Hath long oppress'd me.
+
+ABB. But not press'd you right;
+Now shall you bear a burden far more light.
+
+MAT. What burden-bearing? whereto tends this talk?
+
+MONK. To you, to us, this abbey, and King John.
+
+MAT. O God, forfend he should be thought upon!
+
+MONK. Lady, make short: the king must lie with you.
+
+MAT. With me? with me?
+    [_First turns to the_ MONK, _then to the_ ABBESS.
+
+ABB. Sweet, never look so strange:
+He shall come closely,[355] nobody shall see.
+
+MAT. How can he come, but One hath eyes to see?
+
+MONK. Your chamber-windows shall be shadowed.
+
+MAT. But no veil from my conscience shadows me.
+
+ABB. And all the nuns sent quietly to bed.
+
+MAT. But they will rise, and by my blushing red
+Quickly give guess of my lost maidenhead.
+
+BRAND. She goes, i' faith: by God, she is their own!    [_Aside_.
+
+MONK. Be not so nice, the sin is venial,
+Considering you yield for charity;
+And by your fall the nunnery shall rise.
+
+ABB. Regard good counsel, daughter: pray, be wise.
+
+MONK. Come, here's a stir! will't do, wench? will it do?
+
+ABB. Say ay, say ay; forget the sound of no:
+Or else say no, and take it:[356] wilt thou so?
+
+MAT. Do you intend thus lewdly as you speak?
+
+BRAND.[357] Ay, by Gog's blood, do they; and, moppet, you were best
+To take their proffers, lest, if they forsake you,
+I play the devil's part--step in, and take you.
+
+MAT. Some holy water! help me, blessed nuns!
+Two damned spirits, in religious weeds,
+Attempt to tempt my spotless chastity;
+And a third devil, gaping for my soul,
+With horrid starings ghastly frighteth me.
+
+ABB. You may
+Call while you will; but, maid, list what we say,
+Or be assur'd this is your dying day.
+
+MAT. In his name that did suffer for my sin,
+And by this blessed sign, I conjure you.
+                         [_Draws a crucifix_.
+Depart, foul fiends, and cease to trouble me.
+
+BRAND. 'Zounds, she thinks us devils! Hear you, conjuror,
+Except you use that trick to conjure down
+The standing spirit of my lord the king,
+That your good mother there, the Abbess, uses
+To conjure down the spirit of the monk,
+Not all your crosses have the power to bless
+Your body from a sharp and speedy death.
+
+MAT. Are ye not fiends, but mortal bodies, then?
+                               [_Feels them all_.
+
+BRAND. Maid, maid, catch lower when you feel young men.
+'Sblood, I was never taken for the devil till now.
+
+MAT. O, where shall chastity have true defence,
+When churchmen lay this siege to innocence?
+Where shall a maid have certain sanctuary,
+When Lady Lust rules all the nunnery?
+Now fie upon ye both, false seeming saints,
+Incarnate devils, devilish hypocrites!
+A cowled monk, an aged veiled nun,
+Become false panders, and with lustful speech
+Essay the chaste ears of true maidenhead!
+Now fie upon this age! Would I were dead!
+
+MONK. Come, leave her, lady: she shall have her wish.
+
+ABB. Speed her, I pray thee: should the baggage live,
+She'll slander all the chaste nuns in the land.
+
+                              [_Exeunt_ MONK, ABBESS.
+
+BRAND. Well, well, go; get you two unto your conjuring:
+Let me alone to lay her on God's ground.
+
+MAT. Why dost thou stay?
+
+BRAND. Why, maid, because I must:
+I have a message to you from the king.
+
+MAT. And thou art welcome to his humble maid.
+I thought thee to be grim and fierce at first,
+But now thou hast a sweet aspect, mild looks.
+Art thou not come to kill me from the king?
+
+BRAND. Yes.
+
+MAT. And thou art welcome; even the welcom'st man
+That ever came unto a woful maid.
+Be brief, good fellow: I have in the world
+No goods to give, no will at all to make;
+But God's will and the king's on me be done!
+A little money, kept to give in alms,
+I have about me: deathsman, take it all;
+Thou art the last poor almsman I shall see.
+Come, come, despatch! What weapon will death wear,
+When he assails me? Is it knife or sword,
+A strangling cord, or sudden flaming fire?
+
+BRAND. Neither, thou manly maid. Look here, look here:
+A cup of poison. Wherefore dost thou smile?
+
+MAT. O God! in this the king is merciful:
+My dear-lov'd Huntington by poison died.
+Good fellow, tell the king I thank his grace,
+And do forgive his causeless cruelty.
+I do forgive thee too, but do advise
+Thou leave this bloody course, and seek to save
+Thy soul immortal, closed in thy breast:
+                             [_He gives it her_.
+Be brief, I pray you. Now, to King John's health
+A full carouse:[358] and, God, remember not
+The curse he gave himself at Robin's death,
+Wishing by poison he might end his life,
+If ever he solicited my love.
+Farewell, good fellow. Now thy medicine works.
+And with the labour I am forc'd to rest.
+
+BRAND. 'Zounds! she cares not: she makes death a jest.
+
+MAT. The guiltless fear not death. Farewell, good friend;
+I pray thee, be no trouble in my end.
+                        [_He stands staring and quaking_.
+
+    _Enter_ OXFORD, QUEEN, ABBESS, _Attendants_.
+
+OX. And say you, Lady Abbess, that there came
+One from the king unto her? what was he?
+
+ABB. Yonder he stands: I know not what he is.
+                        [_Still he stands staring_.
+
+QUEEN. Jesus have mercy! Oxford, come not nigh him.
+
+OX. Not nigh him, madam? yes: keep you away.
+
+ABB. Come in, good queen; I do not mean to stay.
+                                    [_Exit_ ABBESS.
+
+QUEEN. Nor I to stir before I see the end.[359]
+
+OX. Why star'st thou thus? speak, fellow: answer me.
+Who art thou?
+
+BRAND. A bloody villain and a murderer!
+A hundred have I slain with mine own hands.
+'Twas I that starv'd the Lady Bruce to death
+And her young son at Windsor Castle late:
+'Tis I have slain Matilda, blessed maid,
+And now will hurry to damnation's mouth,
+Forc'd by the gnawing worm of conscience.    [_Runs in_.
+
+OX. Hold him, for God's sake! stay the desperate wretch.
+
+MAT. O, some good pitying man compassionate
+That wretched man, so woful desperate:
+Save him, for God's sake! he hath set me free
+From much world's woe, much wrong, much misery.
+
+QUEEN. I hear thy tongue, true perfect charity!
+Chaste maid, fair maid, look up and speak to me.
+
+MAT. Who's here? My gracious sovereign Isabel!
+I will take strength and kneel.
+
+QUEEN. Matilda, sit;
+I'll kneel to thee. Forgive me, gentle girl,
+My most ungentle wrongs.
+
+MAT. Fair, beauteous queen,
+I give God thanks I do not think on wrongs.
+
+OX. How now, Fitzwater's child! How dost thou, girl?
+
+MAT. Well, my good Lord of Oxford; pretty well:
+A little travail[360] more, and I shall rest,
+For I am almost at my journey's end.
+O that my head were rais'd a little up,
+My drowsy head, whose dim decaying lights
+Assure me it is almost time to sleep.
+                          [_Raise her head_.
+I thank your highness; I have now some ease.
+Be witness, I beseech your majesty,
+That I forgive the king with all my heart;
+With all the little of my living heart,
+That gives me leave to say I can forgive;
+And I beseech high heaven he long may live
+A happy king, a king belov'd and fear'd.
+Oxford, for God's sake, to my father write
+The latest commendations of his child;
+And say Matilda kept his honour's charge,
+Dying a spotless maiden undefil'd.
+Bid him be glad, for I am gone to joy,
+I, that did turn his weal to bitter woe.
+The king and he will quickly now grow friends,
+And by their friendship much content will grow.
+Sink, earth to earth; fade, flower ordain'd to fade,
+But pass forth, soul, unto the shrine of peace;
+Beg there atonement may be quickly made.
+Fair queen, kind Oxford, all good you attend.
+Fly forth, lay soul, heaven's King be there thy friend.
+                                                [_Dies_.
+
+OX. O pity-moving sight![361] age pitiless!
+Are these the messages King John doth send?
+Keep in, my tears, for shame! your conduits keep,
+Sad woe-beholding eyes: no, will ye not?
+Why, then, a God's name, weep.    [_Sit_.
+
+QUEEN. I cannot weep for ruth.[362] Here, here! take in
+The blessed body of this noble maid:
+In milk-white clothing let the same be laid
+Upon an open bier, that all may see
+King John's untimely lust and cruelty.
+
+                     [_Exeunt with the body_.
+
+OX. Ay, be it so; yourself, if so you please,
+Will I attend upon, and both us wait
+On chaste Matilda's body, which with speed
+To Windsor Castle we will hence convey.
+There is another spectacle of ruth,
+Old Bruce's famish'd lady and her son.
+
+QUEEN. There is the king besieging of young Bruce:
+His lords are there who, when they see this sight,
+I know will have small heart for John to fight.
+
+OX. But where's the murderer, ha? is not he stay'd?
+
+SER.[363] Borne with a violent rage he climb'd a tree,
+And none of us could hinder his intent;
+But getting to the top-boughs, fast he tied
+His garters to his neck and a weak branch;
+Which being unable to sustain his weight,
+Down to the ground he fell, where bones and flesh
+Lie pash'd[364] together in a pool of blood.
+
+OX. Alas for woe! but this is just heaven's doom
+On those that live by blood: in blood they die.
+Make[365] an example of it, honest friends:
+Do well, take pains, beware of cruelty.
+Come, madam, come: to Windsor let us go,
+And there to Bruce's grief add greater woe.
+
+                                 [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    _Enter_ BRUCE _upon the walls_.
+
+BRUCE. Will not my bitter bannings[366] and sad plaints,
+My just and execrable execrations,
+My tears, my prayers, my pity-moving moans
+Prevail, thou glorious bright lamp of the day,
+To cause thee keep an obit for their souls,
+And dwell one month with the Antipodes?
+Bright sun, retire; gild not this vault of death
+With thy illustrate rays: retire, retire,
+And yield black night thy empery awhile--
+A little while, till as my tears be spent,
+My blood be likewise shed in raining drops
+By the tempestuous rage of tyrant John.
+Learn of thy love, the morning: she hath wept
+Shower upon shower of silver-dewy tears;
+High trees, low plants, and pretty little flowers
+Witness her woe: on them her grief appears,
+And as she drips on them, they do not let,
+By drop and drop, their mother earth to wet.
+See these hard stones, how fast small rivulets
+Issue from them, though they seem issueless,
+And wet-eyed woe on everything is view'd,
+Save in thy face, that smil'st at my distress.
+O, do not drink these tears thus greedily,
+Yet let the morning's mourning garment dwell
+Upon the sad earth. Wilt thou not, thou churl?
+Then surfeit with thy exhalations speedily;
+For all earth's venomous infecting worms
+Have belch'd their several poisons on the fields,
+Mixing their simples in thy compound draught.
+Well, Phoebus, well, drink on, I say, drink on;
+But when thou dost ungorge thee, grant me this,
+Thou pour thy poisons on the head of John.
+
+    _Drum. Enter_ CHESTER, MOWBRAY, _Soldiers, at
+    one door_:[367] LEICESTER, RICHMOND, _at another:
+    Soldiers_.
+
+BRUCE. How now, my lords! were ye last night so pleased
+With the beholding of that property[368]
+Which John and other murderers have wrought
+Upon my starved mother and her son,
+That you are come again? Shall I again
+Set open shop, show my dead ware, dear-bought
+Of a relentless merchant, that doth trade
+On the red sea, swoll'n mighty with the blood
+Of noble, virtuous, harmless innocents?
+Whose coal-black vessel is of ebony,
+Their shrouds and tackle (wrought and woven by wrong)
+Stretch'd with no other gale of wind but grief,
+Whose sighs with full blasts beateth on her shrouds;
+The master murder is, the pilot shame,
+The mariners, rape, theft and perjury;
+The burden, tyrannous oppression,
+Which hourly he in England doth unlade.
+Say, shall I open shop and show my wares?
+
+LEI. No, good Lord Bruce, we have enough of that.
+
+    _Drum. Enter_ KING, HUBERT, _Soldiers_.
+
+KING. To Windsor welcome, Hubert. Soft, methinks
+Bruce and our lords are at a parley now?
+
+BRUCE. Chester and Mowbray, you are John's sworn friends;
+Will you see more? speak, answer me, my lords.
+I am no niggard, you shall have your fill.
+
+BOTH. We have too much, and surfeit with the woe.
+
+BRUCE. Are you all full? there comes a ravening kite,
+That both at quick, at dead, at all will smite.
+He shall, he must; ay, and by'r Lady, may
+Command me to give over holiday,
+And set wide open what you would not see.
+
+KING. Why stand ye, lords, and see this traitor perch'd
+Upon our castle's battlements so proud?
+Come down, young Bruce, set ope the castle-gates;
+Unto thy sov'reign let thy knee be bow'd,
+And mercy shall be given to thee and thine.
+
+BRUCE. O miserable thing!
+Comes mercy from the mouth of John our king?
+Why then, belike, hell will be pitiful.
+I will not ope the gates--the gate I will;
+The gate where thy shame and my sorrow sits.
+See my dead mother and her famish'd son!
+    [_Opens a casement, showing the dead bodies within_.]
+Open thy tyrant's eyes, for to the world
+I will lay open thy fell cruelties.
+
+KING. We heard, indeed, thy mother and her son
+In prison died by wilful famishment.
+
+BRUCE. Sin doubled upon sin! Slander'st thou the dead?
+Unwilling willingness it shall appear,
+By then I have produc'd, as I will do,
+The just presumptions 'gainst your unjust act.
+
+KING. Assail the castle, lords! alarum, drums!
+And drown this screech-owl's cries with your deep sounds.
+
+LEI. I tell thee, drummer, if thy drum thou smite,
+By heav'n, I'll send thy soul to hell's dark night.
+Hence with thy drum! God's passion, get thee hence!
+Begone, I say; move not my patience.
+
+                                 [_Exit drum_.
+
+KING. Are you advised, Leicester, what you do?
+
+LEI. I am advised; for, my sovereign, know,
+There's not a lord here will lift up his arm
+Against the person of yon noble youth,
+Till you have heard the circumstantial truth,
+By good presumptions, touching this foul deed.
+Therefore, go on, young Bruce; proceed, refel[369]
+The allegation that puts in this doubt,
+Whether thy mother, through her wilfulness,
+Famish'd herself and her sweet son, or no.
+
+BRUCE. Unlikely supposition: nature first denies
+That any mother, when her youngling cries,
+If she have means, is so unnatural
+To let it faint and starve. But we will prove
+She had no means, except this moanful mean,
+This torture of herself. Come forth, come forth,
+Sir William Blunt, whom slander says I slew:
+Come, tell the king and lords what you know true.
+
+    _Enter_ SIR WILLIAM BLUNT [_on the walls_.][370]
+
+KING. Thou hast betray'd our castle.
+
+BLUNT. No: God can tell,
+It was surpris'd by politic report,
+And affirmation that your grace was slain.
+
+RICH. Go on, Sir William Blunt:
+Pass briefly to the lady's famishment.
+
+BLUNT. About some ten days since there came one Brand,
+Bringing a signet from my lord the king,
+And this commission, signed with his hand,
+                    [_Lords look, and read the thing_.
+Commanding me, as the contents express,
+That I should presently deliver up
+The Lady Bruce and her young son to him.
+
+MOW. What time o' day was this?
+
+BLUNT. It was, Lord Mowbray, somewhat past eleven,
+For we were even then sitting down to dine.
+
+LEI. But did ye dine?
+
+BLUNT. The lady and her son did not.
+Brand would not stay.
+
+BRUCE. No, Leicester, no; for here is no such sign
+Of any meat's digestion.
+
+RICH. But, by the way, tell us, I pray you, Blunt,
+While she remain'd with you, was she distraught
+With grief, or any other passions violent?
+
+BLUNT. She now and then would weep, and often pray
+For reconcilement 'twixt the king and lords.
+
+CHES. How to her son did she affected stand?
+
+BLUNT. Affection could not any more affect;
+Nor might a mother show more mother's love.
+
+MOW. How to my lord the king?
+
+BLUNT. O my Lord God!
+I never knew a subject love king more.
+She never would blin[371] telling, how his grace
+Sav'd her young son from soldiers and from fire;
+How fair he spake, gave her her son to keep:
+And then, poor lady, she would kiss her boy,
+Pray for the king so hearty earnestly,
+That in pure zeal she wept most bitterly.
+
+KING. I weep for her, and do by heaven protest,
+I honour'd Bruce's wife, howe'er that slave
+Rudely effected what I rashly will'd.
+Yet when he came again, and I bethought
+What bitter penance I had put them to
+For my conceiv'd displeasure 'gainst old Bruce,
+I bad the villain post and bear them meat:
+Which he excus'd, protesting pity mov'd him
+To leave wine, bread, and other powder'd meat,[372]
+More than they twain could in a fortnight eat.
+
+BLUNT. Indeed, this can I witness with the king,
+Which argues in that point his innocence:
+Brand did bear in a month's provision,
+But lock'd it, like a villain, far from them;
+And lock'd them in a place, where no man's ear
+Might hear their lamentable woful moans;
+For all the issue, both of vent and light,
+Came from a loover[373] at the tower's top,
+Till now Lord Bruce made open this wide gap.
+
+BRUCE. Had I not reason, think you, to make wide
+The window, that should let so much woe forth?
+Where sits my mother, martyr'd by herself,
+Hoping to save her child from martyrdom?
+Where stands my brother, martyr'd by himself,
+Because he would not taste his mother's blood?
+For thus I gather this:--my mother's teeth and chin
+Are bloody with the savage cookery
+Which her soft heart, through pity of her son,
+Respectless made her practise on herself;
+And her right hand, with offering it the child,
+Is with her own pure blood stain'd and defil'd.
+My little brother's lips and chin alone
+Are tainted with the blood; but his even teeth,
+Like orient pearl or snow-white ivory,
+Have not one touch of blood, one little spot:
+Which is an argument the boy would not
+Once stir his lips to taste that bloody food
+Our cruel-gentle mother minister'd:
+But as it seem'd (for see his pretty palm
+Is bloody too) he cast it on the ground,
+For on this side the blessed relics lie,
+By famine's rage divided from this shrine.
+Sad woful mother in Jerusalem!
+Who, when thy son and thou didst faint for food,
+Buried his sweet flesh in thy hungry womb,
+How merciless wert thou, if we compare
+Thy fact and this! For my poor lady mother
+Did kill herself to save my dying brother;
+And thou, ungentle son of Miriam,
+Why didst thou beg life when thy mother lack'd?
+My little brother George did nobly act
+A more courageous part: he would not eat,
+Nor beg to live. It seem'd he did not cry:
+Few tears stand on his cheek, smooth is each eye;
+But when he saw my mother bent to die,
+He died with her. O childish valiancy--
+
+KING. Good Bruce, have done. My heart cannot contain
+The grief it holds: my eyes must show'r down rain.
+
+LEI. Which showers are even as good
+As rain in harvest, or a swelling flood
+When neighbouring meadows lack the mower's scythe.
+
+    _A march for burial, with drum and fife. Enter_
+    OXFORD. MATILDA _borne with nuns, one carrying
+    a white pendant--these words written in gold:
+    "Amoris Castitatis et Honoris Honos." The_ QUEEN
+    _following the bier, carrying a garland of flowers.
+    Set it in the midst of the stage_.
+
+RICH. List, Leicester: hear'st thou not a mournful march?
+
+LEI. Yes, Richmond, and it seemeth old De Vere.
+
+OX. Lords, by your leave, is not our sovereign here?
+
+KING. Yes, good old Aubrey.
+
+OX. Ah, my gracious lord!
+That you so much your high state should neglect!
+Ah! God in heaven forgive this bloody deed!
+Young Bruce, young Bruce, I weep
+Thy mother and thy brother's wrong;
+Yet to afflict thee more, more grief I bring.
+
+BRUCE. O honourable Aubery de Vere,
+Let sorrow in a sable suit appear:
+Do not misshape her garment like delight;
+If it be grief, why cloth'st thou her in white?
+
+OX. I cannot tell thee yet: I must sit down.
+Attend, young Bruce, and listen to the queen;
+She'll not be tongue-tied: we shall have a stir
+Anon, I fear, would make a man half-sick.
+
+QUEEN. Are you here, lecher? O intemperate king!
+Wilt thou not see me? Come, come, show your face,
+Your grace's graceless, king's unkingly face.
+What, mute? hands folded, eyes fix'd on the earth?
+Whose turn is next now to be murdered?
+The famish'd Bruces are on yonder side,
+On this, another I will name anon;
+One for whose head this garland I do bear,
+And this fair, milk-white, spotless pendant too.
+Look up, King John! see, yonder sits thy shame;
+Yonder it lies! what, must I tell her name?
+It is Matilda, poisoned by thee.
+
+KING. Matilda! O that foul swift-footed slave,
+That kills, ere one have time to bid him save!
+Fair, gentle girl, ungently made away.
+
+BRUCE. My banish'd uncle's daughter, art thou there?
+Then I defy all hope, and swear--
+
+LEI. Stay, Bruce, and listen well what oath to swear.
+Louis the Dolphin, pitying our estate,
+Is by the Christian king his father sent
+With aid to help us, and is landed too.
+Lords, that will fly the den of cruelty,
+And fight to free yourselves from tyranny[374]--
+Bruce, keep that castle to the only use
+Of our elected king, Louis of France.
+
+OX. God's passion! do not so: King John is here!
+Lords, whisper not with Leicester? Leicester, fie!
+Stir not again regardless mutiny.
+Speak to them, Hugh:[375] I know thou lov'st the king.
+Madam, go to them; nay do, for God's sake, do!
+Down with your stomach,[376] for if he go down,
+You must down too, and be no longer queen:
+Advise you; go, entreat them speedily.
+My sovereign, wherefore sit you sighing there?
+The lords are all about to follow Louis:
+Up and entreat them, else they will away.
+
+KING. Good Oxford, let them go. Why should they stay?
+
+OX. What, are ye desperate? That must not be.
+Hear me, my lords.
+
+                     [_All stand in council_.
+
+KING. This pendant let me see.
+_Amoris Castitatis et Honoris Honos_.
+She was, indeed, of love the honour once,[377]
+When she was lov'd of virtuous Huntington:
+Of chastity the honour all her life;
+To impure thoughts she never could be won:
+And she of honour was the honour too.
+By birth and life[378] she honour honoured.
+Bring in two tapers lighted: quick, despatch!
+
+LEI. Remember, Bruce, thy charge. Come, lords, away!
+
+ALL _but_ OXFORD _and_ HUBERT. Away! we will away.
+
+                     [_Bring in two white tapers_.
+
+OX. Hark, Leicester, but one word: a little stay.
+Help me, good Hubert! help me, gentle queen!
+
+                             [_Again confer_.[379]
+
+KING. How dim these tapers burn! they give no light.
+Here were two beauteous lamps, that could have taught
+The sun to shine by day, the moon by night;
+But they are dim, too, clean extinguished.
+Away with these, sith those fair lights be dead!
+
+OX. And, as I say--hark, Bruce, unto our talk--
+Think you it is for love of England Louis comes?
+Nay. France is not so kind; I would it were.
+Advise yourselves. Hark, dost thou hear me, Bruce?
+
+BRUCE. Oxford, I do.
+
+OX. Can noble English hearts bear the French yoke?
+No, Leicester: Richmond, think on Louis' sire,
+That left you and your king in Palestine.
+
+QUEEN. And think, beside, you know not Louis's nature,
+Who may be as bad as John, or, rather, worse
+Than he.
+
+HUB. And look, my lords, upon his silent woe;
+His soul is at the door of death, I know.
+See how he seeks to suck, if he could draw
+Poison from dead Matilda's ashy lips.
+I will be sworn his very heart-string nips.
+A vengeance on that slave, that cursed Brand!
+I'll kill him, if I live, with this right hand.
+
+OX. Thou canst not, Hubert; he hath kill'd himself--
+But to our matter. Leicester, pray thee speak.
+Young Bruce, for God's sake, let us know thy mind.
+
+BRUCE. I would be loth to be a stranger's slave:
+For England's love, I would no French king have.
+
+LEI. Well, Oxford, if I be deceiv'd in John again,
+It's 'long of you, Lord Hubert, and the queen.
+Yield up the castle, Bruce: we'll once more try
+King John's proceedings. Oxford, tell him so.
+
+    [OXFORD _goes to the_ KING, _does his duty,
+    and talks with him_.
+
+BRUCE. I will come down. But first farewell, dear mother,    [_Kiss her_.
+Farewell, poor little George, my pretty brother!
+Now will I shut my shambles in again:
+Farewell, farewell!    [_Closes the casement_.
+In everlasting bliss your sweet souls dwell.
+
+Ox. But you must mend, i' faith; in faith you must[380].
+
+LEI. My lord, once more your subjects do submit,
+Beseeching you to think how things have pass'd;
+And let some comfort shine on us, your friends,
+Through the bright splendour of your virtuous life.
+
+KING. I thank you all; and, Leicester, I protest,
+I will be better than I yet have been.
+
+BRUCE. Of Windsor Castle here the keys I yield.
+
+KING. Thanks, Bruce: forgive me, and I pray thee see
+Thy mother and thy brother buried
+                     [BRUCE _offers to kiss_ MATILDA.
+In Windsor Castle church. Do, kiss her cheek:
+Weep thou on that, on this side I will weep.
+
+QUEEN. Chaste virgin, thus I crown thee with these flowers.
+
+KING. Let us go on to Dunmow with this maid:
+Among the hallow'd nuns let her be laid.
+Unto her tomb a monthly pilgrimage
+Doth King John vow, in penance for this wrong.
+
+Go forward, maids; on with Matilda's hearse,
+And on her tomb see you engrave this verse.
+
+    "Within this marble monument doth lie
+     Matilda, martyr'd for her chastity."
+
+                                 [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+EPILOGUS.
+
+Thus is Matilda's story shown in act,
+And rough-hewn out by an uncunning hand:
+Being of the most material points compact,
+That with the certain'st state of truth do stand.
+
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTION BETWEEN LIBERALITY AND PRODIGALITY.
+
+
+
+
+_EDITION_
+
+
+_A Pleasant Comedie, shewing the contention betweene Liberalitie and
+Prodigalitie. As it was playd before her Maiestie. London Printed by
+Simon Stafford for George Vincent, and are to be sold at the signs of
+the Hand in hand in Wood-street over against S. Michaels Church_.
+1602. 4to.
+
+The copy of this play in the Garrick collection appears to be the only
+one known, and from that source it is now for the first time reprinted.
+Mr Collier (Hist Engl. Dram. Poetr., ii, 318) points out that there is
+internal evidence, from the allusion to the 43d year of Queen Elizabeth,
+that the production was performed before her Majesty in 1600; and it
+seems likely that it was a revival of a more ancient piece. The writer
+just quoted remarks that a play, called "Prodigality," was exhibited at
+Court in 1568 (ibid. note). Philips, author of the "Theatrum Poetarum,"
+in assigning it to Greene, followed either some tradition of the time or
+his own whim; but he is not a trustworthy authority; and his article on
+Greene is assuredly as puerile and absurd a performance as could be
+imagined.
+
+In the prologue, the writer refers to _childish years_, presumably his
+own, and perhaps the "Contention" was a youthful effort. Moreover, from
+the (not very appropriate) introduction of Latin terms here and there,
+it is allowable to suspect that the author was preparing to graduate in
+arts, if he had not done so.
+
+
+
+
+THE PROLOGUE.
+
+
+The proverb is, _How many men, so many minds_,
+Which maketh proof how hard a thing it is,
+Of sundry minds to please the sundry kinds.
+In which respect I have inferred this,
+  That where men's minds appear so different,
+  No play, no part, can all alike content.
+
+The grave Divine calls for Divinity:
+The civil student for Philosophy:
+The courtier craves some rare sound history:
+The baser sort, for knacks of pleasantry.
+  So every sort desireth specially,
+  What thing may best content his fantasy.
+
+But none of these our barren toy affords.
+To pulpits we refer Divinity:
+And matters of estate to Council boards.
+As for the quirks of sage Philosophy,
+Or points of squirriliting scurrility,
+  The one we shun, for childish years too rare,
+  Th'other unfit for such as present are.
+
+But this we bring is but to serve the time,
+A poor device to pass the day withal:
+To loftier points of skill we dare not climb,
+Lest (perking over-high) with shame we fall.
+  Such as doth best beseem such as we be,
+  Such we present, and crave your courtesy.
+
+That courtesy, that gentleness of yours,
+Which wonted is to pardon faults of ours:
+Which granted, we have all that we require:
+Your only favour, only our desire.
+
+THE END OF THE PROLOGUE.
+
+
+
+
+THE SPEAKERS.
+
+
+THE PROLOGUE.
+VANITY, _Fortune's chief servant_.
+PRODIGALITY, _suitor for Money_.
+POSTILION, _his servant_.
+HOST.
+TENACITY, _suitor for Money_.
+DANDALINE, _the hostess_.
+TOM TOSS.
+DICK DICER.
+FORTUNE.
+MASTER MONEY, _her son_.
+VIRTUE.
+EQUITY.
+LIBERALITY, _chief steward to Virtue_.
+CAPTAIN WELL-DONE.
+COURTIER.
+LAME SOLDIER.
+CONSTABLES, _with Hue and Cry_.
+TIPSTAVES.
+SHERIFF.
+CLERK.
+CRIER.
+JUDGE.
+EPILOGUE.
+
+
+
+
+THE CONTENTION BETWEEN LIBERALITY AND PRODIGALITY.
+
+
+
+SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ VANITY _solus, all in feathers_.
+
+In words to make description of my name,
+My nature or conditions, were but vain;
+Sith this attire so plainly shows the same,
+As showed cannot be in words more plain.
+For lo, thus roundabout in feathers dight,
+Doth plainly figure mine inconstancy:
+As feathers, light of mind; of wit as light,
+Subjected still to mutability,
+And for to paint me forth more properly,
+Behold each feather decked gorgeously
+With colours strange in such variety,
+As plainly pictures perfect vanity.
+And so I am, to put you out of doubt,
+Even vanity wholly; within, without:
+In head, in heart: in all parts roundabout:
+But whence I come, and why I hither come,
+And upon whom I daily do attend,
+In brief, to show you in a little sum,
+My special meaning is, and so an end.
+I came from Fortune, my most sovereign dame,
+Amongst whose chiefest servants I am one:
+Fortune, that earthly goddess great of name,
+To whom all suits I do prefer alone.
+She, minding in this place forthwith t'appear,
+In her most gorgeous pomp and princely port,
+Sends me to see all things in presence here,
+Prepar'd and furnish'd in the bravest sort.
+Here will she mount this stately sumptuous throne,
+As she is wont to hear each man's desire:
+And whoso wins her favour by his moan,
+May have of her the thing he doth require.
+And yet another dame there is, her enemy,
+'Twixt whom remains continual emulation:
+Virtue who, in respect of Fortune's sovereignty,
+Is held, God wot, of simple reputation;
+Yet hither comes (poor soul) in her degree,
+This other seat half-forced to supply:
+But 'twixt their state what difference will be,
+Yourselves shall judge and witness, when you see.
+Therefore I must go deck up handsomely,
+What best beseems Dame Fortune's dignity.
+                                         [_Exit_.
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+    _Enter_ PRODIGALITY, POSTILION, _and_ HOST.
+
+PROD. Postilion, stay, thou drugg'st on like an ass.
+Lo, here's an inn, which I cannot well pass:
+Here will we bait, and rest ourselves awhile.
+
+POST. Why, sir, you have to go but six small mile;
+The way is fair, the moon shines very bright.
+Best now go on, and then rest for all night.
+
+PROD. Tush, Postil, fair or foul, or far or near,
+My weary bones must needs be rested here.
+
+POST. 'Tis but a paltry inn, there's no good cheer;
+Yet shall you pay for all things passing dear.
+
+PROD. I care not for all that: I love mine ease.
+
+POST. Well, sir, a God's name, then do what you please.
+
+PROD. Knock, then, at the gate.
+
+POST. Ho, who's at home? hostler, chamberlain, tapster?
+Ho! take in gentlemen. Knave, slave, host, hostess, ho!
+                                  [_Rip, rap, rip, rap_.
+What, is there none that answers? _Tout a la mort_?
+Sir, you must make entrance at some other port:
+For here's no passage.
+
+PROD. No? let me come; I'll knock a little harder.
+Here must I in; for sure I will no farder.
+                            [_Rip, rap, rap, rap_.
+Ho! who dwells here? [_Rip, rap, rap_]. I'll call on the women another
+while. Ho! butter-wench, dairy-maid, nurse, laundress, cook, host,
+hostess, anybody, ho!
+
+HOST. Who's there?
+
+PROD. Up, sir, with a horse night-cap! what, are ye all in a drunken
+dream! can ye not hear?
+
+POST. Not a word more! he is fast asleep again,
+I fear. What, ho?
+
+HOST. How now?
+
+PROD. How now? now the devil take thee!
+Can calling, nor knocking, nor nothing, awake thee?
+
+HOST. Now, sir, what lack ye?
+
+PROD. Lodging.
+
+HOST. What are you?
+
+PROD. Gentlemen. Seest thou not?
+
+HOST. Whence come ye?
+
+PROD. What skills that? open the gate.
+
+HOST. Nay, soft a while, I am not wont so late
+To take in guests. I like ye not: away.
+
+PROD. Nay, stay awhile, mine host; I pray thee, stay,
+Open the gate, I pray thee heartily,
+And what we take we will pay thee royally.
+
+HOST. And would ye have lodging then?
+
+PROD. Yea, rather than my life.
+
+HOST. Then stay a while; I'll first go ask my wife.
+
+PROD. Nay, nay, send her rather to me:
+If she be a pretty wench, we shall soon agree.
+
+POST. Now a bots[381] on him and his wife both for me!    [_Aside_.
+
+HOST. Then you would have lodgings belike, sir?
+
+PROD. Yea, I pray thee come quickly.
+
+HOST. What's your name, and please you?
+
+PROD. Prodigality.
+
+HOST. And will you indeed spend lustily?
+
+PROD. Yea, that I will.
+
+HOST. And take that ye find patiently?
+
+PROD. What else?
+
+HOST. And pay what I ask willingly?
+
+PROD. Yea, all reckonings unreasonably.
+
+HOST. Well, go too; for this once I am content to receive ye: come on,
+sir, I daresay you are almost weary.
+
+PROP. Thou may'st swear it.
+
+                          [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+
+    _Enter_ VIRTUE _and_ EQUITY.
+
+VIR. O most unhappy state of reckless humane kind!
+O dangerous race of man, unwitty, fond and blind!
+O wretched worldlings, subject to all misery,
+When fortune is the prop of your prosperity!
+Can you so soon forget, that you have learn'd of yore
+The grave divine precepts, the sacred wholesome lore,
+That wise philosophers with painful industry
+Have[382] written and pronounc'd for man's felicity?
+Whilome [it] hath been taught, that Fortune's hold is tickle;
+She bears a double face, disguised, false and fickle,
+Full fraughted with all sleights, she playeth on the pack;
+On whom she smileth most, she turneth most to wrack.
+The time hath been, when Virtue had[383] the sovereignty
+Of greatest price, and plac'd in chiefest dignity;
+But topsy-turvy now the world is turn'd about:
+Proud Fortune is preferr'd, poor Virtue clean thrust out.
+Man's sense so dulled is, so all things come to pass,
+Above the massy gold t'esteem the brittle glass.
+
+EQ. Madam, have patience, Dame Virtue must sustain,
+Until the heavenly powers do otherwise ordain.
+
+VIR. Equity, for my part, I envy not her state,
+Nor yet mislike the meanness of my simple rate.
+But what the heavens assign, that do I still think best:
+My fame was never yet by Fortune's frown opprest:
+Here, therefore, will I rest in this my homely bower,
+With patience to abide the storms of every shower.
+
+                                           [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+
+    _Enter_ TENACITY _and_ VANITY [_severally, and not
+    seeing each other at first_.[384]]
+
+TEN. By Gog's bores, these old stumps are stark tired.
+Chave here roundabout for life conquired,
+Where any posting nags were to be hired,
+And can get none, would they were all vired![385]
+Cham come too late for Money, I hold a penny,
+Suitors to Fortune there are so many;
+And all for Money, chill gage a round sum:
+Money is gone, before Tenacity come.
+Then am I dress'd even to my utter shame:
+A fool return'd, like as a fool I came.
+Cham sure chave come vorty miles and twenty,
+With all these bags you see and wallets empty:
+But when chave sued to Vortune vine and dainty,
+Ich hope to vill them up with money plenty:
+But here is one, of whom ich will conquire,
+Whilk way che might attain to my desire.
+God speed, my zon.
+
+VAN. What, father Crust, whither post you so fast?
+
+TEN. Nay, bur lady, zon, ich can make no haste,
+Vor che may say to thee, cham tired clean.
+
+VAN. More shame for you, to keep your ass so lean!
+But whither go you now?
+
+TEN. To a goodly lady, whom they call her Vortune.
+
+VAN. And wherefore?
+
+TEN. For money, zon, but ich vear che come too late.
+
+VAN. Indeed, it seemeth by thy beggar's state,
+Thou hast need of money; but let me hear,
+How or by whom think'st thou to get this gear?
+
+TEN. Chill speak her vair, chill make low cursy.
+
+VAN. That's somewhat; but how wilt thou come at her?
+
+TEN. Bur lady, zon, zest true; there lies the matter:
+Chill make some friend.
+
+VAN. Whom?
+
+TEN. Some man of hers, that near her doth attend.
+
+VAN. Who is that?
+
+TEN. Ich know not; chud that[386] inqueer of thee:
+And therefore, if thou knowest, tell it me.
+
+VAN. What, in such haste, forsooth, so suddenly:
+And so good cheap, without reward or fee?
+
+TEN. Poor men, dear zon, must crave of courtesy:
+Get I once money, thou shalt rewarded be.
+
+VAN. Go to, then, I'll tell thee: his name is Vanity.
+
+TEN. And where is a?
+
+VAN. No more ado: ask but for Vanity.
+Reward him well, he'll help thee to money.
+
+TEN. But where?
+
+VAN. Why, here in this place: this is Lady Fortune's palace.
+
+TEN. Is this? Ah, goodly Lord, how gay it is!
+Now hope I sure of money not to miss.
+So law, my zon, ich will go rest myself a while,
+And come again.    [_Exit_.
+
+VAN. Do so. Now sure this coistrel makes me smile,
+To see his greedy gaping thus for gain,
+First hardly got, then kept with harder pain,
+As you ere long by proof shall see full plain.
+
+TEN. This is mine old inn; here chill knock. Holla, ho!
+
+HOST. What roister have we there, that rappeth so?
+
+POST. How now, sirrah, what lack you?
+
+TEN. Lodging.
+
+POST. Lodging? there is none: all is full.
+
+TEN. How so?
+
+POST. Ta'en up by gentlemen long ago.
+
+TEN. Let me yet have some room for mine ass.
+
+POST. _Asinus super asinum, volitate ad furtas_!
+
+HOST. Who is that thou pratest therewithal?
+
+POST. Look forth and see: a lubber, fat, great and tall,
+Upon a tired ass, bare, short and small.
+
+HOST. Ho, ho! 'tis Tenacity, my old acquaintance.
+And to my wife of near alliance.
+Father Tenacity!
+
+TEN. Mine host, God speed!
+How do you? Take in, ostler.
+
+OSTLER. Anon, sir.
+
+HOST. Chamberlain, wait upon my kindred here.
+
+CHAM. I will, sir.
+
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+
+    _Enter_ MONEY _and_ VANITY.
+
+     _The Song_.
+
+MON. _As light as a fly,
+       In pleasant jollity:
+     With mirth and melody,
+       Sing Money, Money, Money!
+     Money the minion, the spring of all joy;
+     Money, the medicine that heals each annoy;
+     Money, the jewel that man keeps in store;
+     Money, the idol that women adore!
+     That Money am I, the fountain of bliss,
+     Whereof whoso tasteth, doth never amiss.
+           Money, money, money!
+           Sing Money, Money, Money_!
+
+VAN. What, Money, sing you so lustily?
+
+MON. I have none other cause: who would not sing merrily,
+Being, as I am, in such felicity:
+The God of this world, so mighty of power,
+As makes men, and mars men, and all in an hour?
+Yea, where I am, is all prosperity,
+And where I want, is nought but misery.
+
+VAN. Money saith reason; for so doth it fare,
+Money makes masteries, old proverbs declare.
+But, Money, of Fortune, our sovereign dame,
+What news?
+
+MONEY. Marry, sir, of purpose I hither came,
+To let thee know she will forthwith be here:
+And lo! already, see, she doth appear.
+
+VAN. 'Tis true; now must I show my diligence.
+Down, ladies, stoop: do your reverence.
+
+
+
+SCENE VI.
+
+
+    _Enter_ FORTUNE, _in her chariot drawn with Kings.
+
+    The Song.
+
+    Reverence, do reverence; fair dames, do reverence
+    Unto this goddess great, do humble reverence:
+            Do humble reverence.
+
+    Fortune, of-worldly state the governess:
+    Fortune, of man's delight the mistress:
+    Fortune, of earthly bliss the patroness:
+    Fortune, the spring of joy and happiness.
+    Lo, this is she, with twinkling of her eye,
+    That misers[387] can advance to dignity,
+    And princes turn to misers' misery.
+            Reverence, due reverence_.
+
+FOR. Report hath spread, that Virtue here in place
+Arrived is, her silly court to hold;
+And therefore I am come with faster pace,
+T'encounter her, whose countenance is so bold.
+I doubt not but by this my pompous shew,
+By vestures wrought with gold so gorgeously:
+By reverence done to me of high and low:
+By all these ornaments of bravery,
+By this my train, that now attends me so:
+By kings, that hale my chariot to and fro,
+Fortune is known the queen of all renown:
+That makes, that mars; sets up and throws adown.
+Well is it known, what contrary effects
+'Twixt Fortune and dame Virtue hath been wrought:
+How still I her contemn, she me rejects;
+I her despise, she setteth me at nought:
+So, as great wars are grown for sovereignty,
+And strife as great 'twixt us for victory.
+Now is the time of trial to be had,
+The place appointed eke in presence here.
+So as the truth to all sorts, good and bad,
+More clear than light shall presently appear.
+It shall be seen, what Fortune's power can do,
+When Virtue shall be forc'd to yield thereto.
+It shall be seen, when Virtue cannot bide,
+But shrink for shame, her silly face to hide.
+Then Fortune shall advance herself before,
+All harms to help, all losses to restore.
+But why do I myself thus long restrain
+From executing this I do intend?
+Time posts away, and words they be but vain;
+For deeds (indeed) our quarrel now must end.
+Therefore in place I will no longer stay
+But to my stately throne myself convey.
+
+              _Reverence, due reverence, &c_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT II, SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ LIBERALITY.
+
+How seldom is it seen, that Virtue is regarded,
+Or men of virtuous sort for virtuous deeds rewarded!
+So wonts the world to pamper those that nought deserve,
+Whiles such as merit best, without relief do starve.
+Great imperfections are in some of greatest skill,
+That colours can discern [not], white from black, good from ill.
+O blind affects of men, how are you led awry,
+To leave assured good, to like frail Vanity!
+If some of Virtue's train, for prince and country's good,
+To show their faithful hearts, shall hazard life and blood,
+And guerdonless depart, without their due reward,
+Small is th'encouragement, the example very hard.
+Where any well deserve, and are rewarded well,
+Where prince and people both in safety sure do dwell,
+Where he that truly serves, hath nothing for his pain,
+More hearts are lost, than pecks of gold can ransom home again.
+Let states therefore, that wish to maintain stately dignity,
+Seek to acquaint themselves with Liberality;
+For that is it which wins the subjects' faithful love,
+Which faithful love all harms from them and theirs remove.
+Liberality am I, Virtue's steward here,
+Who for the virtuous sort do nothing hold too dear.
+But few to Virtue seek: all sorts to Fortune fly,
+There seeking to maintain their chief prosperity.
+But whoso marks the end, shall be enforc'd to say:
+O Fortune, thou art blind! let Virtue lead the way.
+But who comes here? It seemeth, old Tenacity.
+I must away; for contraries cannot agree.
+                                           [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    _Enter_ TENACITY.
+
+TEN. Well, since che see there is none other boot,
+Chill now take pains to go the rest afoot;
+For Brock mine ass is saddle-pinch'd vull sore,
+And so am I even here--chill say no more.
+But yet I must my business well apply,
+For which ich came, that is, to get money.
+Chwas told that this is Lady Vortune's place:
+Chill go boldly to her, that's a vlat case;
+Vor, if che speed not now at this first glance,
+Cham zure to be dash'd quite out of countenance
+By certain lusty gallon lads hereby,
+Seeking Vortune's favour as well as I.
+O, knew I where to find Mast. Fanity,
+Vortune's servant! Of mine honesty,
+Look where he comes in time as fine and trim,
+As if che held him all this while by the chin.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+
+    VANITY _and_ TENACITY.
+
+VAN. 'Tis he indeed: what say you to him?
+
+TEN. Marry, sir, cham now come for money.
+
+VAN. For money, man? what, still so hastily?
+
+TEN. Yea[388], by gis, sir, 'tis high time, che vore ye;
+Cham aveard another will ha' 't afore me.
+
+VAN. Why so? who is it thou fearest? tell me.
+
+TEN. Marry, sir, they call him Mast. Prodigality.
+
+VAN. Prodigality, is it true? young, wasteful, roisting Prodigality,
+To encounter old, sparing, covetous, niggard Tenacity?
+Sure, such a match as needs must yield us sport:
+Therefore, until the time that Prodigality resort,
+I'll entertain this crust with some device--    [_aside_.
+Well, father, to be sped of money with a trice,
+What will you give me?
+
+TEN. Cha vore thee, son, do rid me quickly hence,
+Chill give thee a vair piece of three-halfpence.
+
+VAN. Indeed?
+
+TEN.         Here's my hand.
+
+VAN. Now, sir, in sooth you offer so bountifully,
+As needs you must be us'd accordingly.
+But tell me, know you him that cometh here?
+
+TEN. Cock's bores, 'tis Prodigality; 'tis he I did fear.
+Cham afraid che may go whistle now for money.
+
+VAN. Tush, man, be of good cheer, I warrant thee;
+He speedeth best, that best rewardeth me.
+
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+
+    _Enter_ PRODIGALITY, VANITY, TENACITY, HOST, FORTUNE, _and_ MONEY.
+
+HOST. Sir, now your reckoning is made even:
+I'll trust no more.
+
+PROD. No?
+
+HOST. No, sure.
+
+PROD. Set cock-on-hoop then; by some means, good or bad,
+There is no remedy, but money must be had.
+By the body of an ox, behold here this ass,
+Will be my familiar, wheresoever I pass.
+Why, goodman Crust, tell me, is there no nay,
+But where I go, you must forestal my way?
+
+TEN. By Gog's flesh and his flounders, sir, che hope the Queen's highway
+is free for euery man! for thee as me, for me as thee, for poor Tenacity
+as for proud Prodigality! chill go, in the Queen's peace, about my
+business.
+
+PROD. This way?
+
+TEN. Yea.
+
+PROD. To whom?
+
+TEN. To Vortune my mistress.
+
+PROD. Wherefore?
+
+TEN. That's no matter to you.
+
+PROD. No matter, sir? but, by your crustship, ere you go,
+'Tis a plain case, Prodigality will know:
+And therefore be round; come off, and tell me quickly.
+
+TEN. And thou'dst so vain know, che go for money.
+
+PROD. Out upon thee, villain, traitor, thief, pickpurse!
+Thou penurious knave, caterpillar, and what's worse?
+Hast thou heard me say, that for money I went,
+And couldst thou creep so closely my purpose to prevent?
+By the life I live, thou shalt die the death.
+Where shall I first begin? above or beneath?
+Say thy prayers, slave--
+
+VAN. How now, my friends, what needs this variance?
+Money comes not by force, money comes by chance;
+And sith at one instant you both seek for money,
+Appeal both to Fortune, and then shall you try,
+Whether either or neither may hit to have money.
+
+PROD. Gentleman, you say well: I know not your name;
+But indeed for that purpose to Fortune I came:
+For furtherance whereof if I might obtain
+Your friendly help, I would quit your pain.
+
+TEN. I am your old acquaintance, sir, remember me.
+
+VAN. Thee, quoth a? for thy large offers I may not forget thee.
+You be both my friends, and therefore indifferently
+I will commend you both to Fortune's courtesy.
+[_To_ FOR.] Lady most bright, renowmed goddess fair,
+Unto thy stately throne here do repair
+Two suitors of two several qualities,
+And qualities, indeed, that be mere contraries.
+That one is called wasteful Prodigality:
+This[389] one cleped covetous Tenacity.
+Both at once unto your royal majesty
+Most humbly make their suits for money.
+
+FOR. Let's hear what they can say.
+
+PROD. Divine goddess, behold, with all humility
+For money I appeal unto thy deity;
+Which, in high honour of thy majesty,
+I mean to spend abroad most plentifully.
+
+TEN. Sweet mistress, grant to poor Tenacity
+The keeping of this golden darling money:
+Chill vow to thee, so long as life shall dure,
+Under strong lock and key chill keep him vast and sure.
+
+VAN. Nay, pleaseth then your pleasant fantasy
+To hear them plead in musical harmony?
+
+FOR. It liketh me.
+
+PROD. None better.
+
+TEN. Well, though my singing be but homely,
+Chill sing and spring[390] too, ere chud loose money.
+
+VAN. Well, to it, a God's name; let saying go than;[391]
+And each sing for himself the best he can.
+
+      _The Song_.
+
+PROD. _The princely heart, that freely spends,
+      Relieves full many a thousand more,
+      He getteth praise, he gaineth friends,
+      And people's love procures therefore.
+      But pinching fist, that spareth all,
+      Of due relief the needy robs:
+      Nought can be caught, where nought doth fall,
+      There comes no good of greedy cobs.
+          This issue therefore do I make:
+          The best deserver draw the stake_.
+
+TEN.  Whilst thou dost spend with friend and foe,
+      At home che hold the plough by th' tail:
+      Che dig, che delve, che zet, che zow,
+      Che mow, che reap, che ply my flail.
+      A pair of dice is thy delight,
+      Thou liv'st for most part by the spoil:
+      I truly labour day and night
+      To get my living by my toil.
+          Chill therefore sure this issue make:
+          The best deserver draw the stake_.
+
+VAN. Hallo! _satis disputatum_.
+
+TEN. Nay, by my father's soul, friend, now chave once begun,
+Let him to't, che pass not when che done.
+
+PROD. Lo, Lady, you have heard our reasons both express'd,
+And thereby are resolv'd, I hope, who merits best.
+
+FOR. Dame Fortune dealeth not by merit, but by chance:
+He hath it but by hap, whom Fortune doth advance;
+And of his hap as he hath small assurance:
+So in his hap likewise is small continuance.
+Therefore at a venture, my dear son Money,
+I do commit you unto Prodigality.
+
+TEN. To Prodigality? Ah, poor Money, I pity thee;
+Continual unrest must be thy destiny:
+Each day, each hour, yea, every minute tost,
+Like to a tennis-ball, from pillar to post.
+
+MONEY. I am, where I like.
+
+TEN. [To VAN.] And is there, then, no other remedy?
+Must poor Tenacity put up the injury?
+
+VAN. Your time is not yet come.
+
+TEN. When will it come, trow ye?
+
+VAN. At the next turning water, happily.
+
+TEN. And che wist that, chud the more quietly depart,
+And keep therewhile a hungry hoping heart.
+How sayest thou, vriend Fanity?
+
+VAN. No doubt, but 'tis best.
+
+TEN. Then varewell to all at once.    [_Exit_.
+
+PROD. Good night and good rest.
+And now will I likewise with my sweet Money
+Go hunt abroad for some good company.
+Vanity, for thy pains I will not grease thy fist
+Peltingly[392] with two or three crowns; but, when thou list,
+Come boldly unto Prodigality's chest,
+And take what thou wilt; it's ever open.
+
+VAN. I thank you, sir; 'tis honourably spoken.
+
+PROD. Yet, ere I go, with song of joyfulness
+Let me to Fortune show my thankfulness.
+
+    _The Song.
+
+    Verse to_ FORTUNE.
+
+    _Thou that dost guide the world by thy direction,
+    Thou that dost conquer states to thy subjection,
+    Thou that dost keep each king in thy correction,
+    Thou that preservest all in thy protection,
+    For all thy gifts unto thy majesty
+    I yield both thanks and praise immortally:
+                        To mighty Fortune, &c.
+
+    Verse to_ MONEY.
+
+    _Sweet Money, the minion that sails with all winds,
+    Sweet Money, the minstrel that makes merry all minds,
+    Sweet Money, that gables of bondage unbinds,
+    Sweet Money, that maintains all sports of all kinds,
+    This is that sweet Money, that rules like a king,
+    And makes me all praises of Money to sing
+
+                                               [Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT III., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ DANDALINE, _the hostess_.
+
+DAN. Now, i'faith, ye little peevish harlotry,[393]
+I'll one day make you spit your meat more handsomely.
+By my truth, truly had I not come in the rather,
+She had laid me to the fire the loin of veal and capon both together,
+Not weighing (like an unwitty girlish mother),
+That the one would ask more roasting than the other;
+So that either the veal had been left stark raw,
+Or else the capon burnt, and so not worth a straw.
+And that had been pity: for I assure you at a word,
+A better bird, a fairer bird, a finer bird:
+A sweeter bird, a younger bird, a tenderer bird:
+A daintier bird, a crisper bird, a more delicate bird:
+Was there never set upon any gentleman's board.
+But I lack my guests, that should pay for this gear:
+And sure my mind gives me, I should find them here,
+Two of mine acquaintance, familiar grown,
+The third to me yet a gentleman unknown,
+More than by hearsay, that he is fresh and lusty,
+Full of money, and by name Prodigality.
+Now, sir, to link him sure to his hostess Dandaline,
+Dandaline must provide to have all things very fine.
+And therefore already it is _definitum_,
+The gentleman shall want nothing may please his _appetitum_.
+And because most meats unsauced are motives to drouth,
+He shall have a lemon to moisten his mouth,
+A lemon I mean; no lemon I trow;
+Take heed, my fair maids, you take me not so.
+For though I go not as grave as my grandmother,
+Yet I have honesty as well as another.
+But hush, now shall I hear some news.
+
+                                      [_Manet_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    _Enter_ TOM TOSS, DICK DICER.[394]
+
+DICER. Fellow Tomkin, I think this world is made of flint;
+There's neither money, nor wares worth money, in't.
+
+TOSS. Hold thy peace, Dick, it cannot still keep at this stint:
+We are now lighted upon such a mint,
+As (follow it well) I dare warrant thee,
+Thy turn shall be served in every degree.
+
+DAND. Dick boy, mine own boy, how dost thou? what cheer?
+
+DICER. What, Dandeline, mine hostess, what make you here?
+
+DAND. I came of purpose to inquire for thee.
+
+DICER. And I came of purpose to seek Prodigality.
+
+DAND. What, he you told me of? indeed, is it he?
+
+DICER. Ay, of my fidelity.
+
+DAND. A good boy, of mine honesty.
+But when come ye?
+
+DICER. As soon as I can find him.
+
+DAND. Seek him, good Dick, and find him speedily:
+For this, I assure ye, your supper is ready.
+
+DICER. Go home before, make all things very fine.
+
+DAND. I will. Farewell.
+
+DICER. Farewell.
+
+DAND. Farewell to Tomkin, too?
+
+TOSS. Farewell, sweet Dandaline.
+
+DAND. But, hear ye? bring him.
+
+DICER. Who?
+
+DAND. Tush, a God's name, you know who!
+I mean the gentleman.
+
+DICER. Go to, go to.    [DANDALINE _exit_.
+Tom, now to the purpose where first we began.
+
+TOSS. Cast care away, Dick; I'll make thee a man.
+
+DICER. A gospel in thy mouth, Tom, for it never went worse.
+Master Money hath left me never a penny in my purse.
+
+TOSS. 'Twill be better, Dick, shalt see, very shortly.
+
+DICER. I pray thee, tell me is this brave Prodigality,
+So full of money as he is said to be?
+
+TOSS. Full, quotha? he is too full, I promise thee.
+
+DICER. And will he lash it out so lustily?
+
+TOSS. Exceedingly, unreasonably, unmeasureably.
+
+DICER. Then may such mates as we, that be so bare,
+Hope some way or other to catch a share.
+
+TOM. Assure thyself that; but whist, he cometh here:
+Let's entertain him with familiar cheer.
+
+DICER. In order, then, bravely.
+
+                              [_Retire_.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+
+    _Enter_ PRODIGALITY, _with_ MONEY.
+
+PROD. How is't, my sweet Money, shall we be lusty now?
+
+MON. Be as lusty as you will. I'll be as lusty as you.
+
+PROD. Who lacks money, ho! who lacks money?
+But ask and have: money, money, money!
+
+DICER. Sir, here be they that care not for your money,
+So much as for your merry company.
+
+PROD. And company is it I seek assuredly.
+
+TOSS. Then here be companions to fit your fantasy,
+And at all assays to answer your desire:
+To go, to run, to stay, to do, as you require.
+
+PROD. What can I wish more? well then, I pray,
+What sports, what pastimes, shall we first assay?
+
+TOSS. Marry, first, sir, we both pray you heartily,
+To take a poor supper with us here hard by,
+Where we will determine by common consent,
+What pastimes are fittest for us to frequent.
+
+PROD. I grant.
+
+DICER. Then, if you please, with some sweet roisting harmony
+Let us begin the utas[395] of our jollity.
+
+PROD. Thou hitt'st my hand pat. Money, what say'st thou?
+
+MON. I say that I like it: go to it, I pray you.
+
+PROD. Shall I begin?
+
+MON. Yea.
+
+PROD. Then surely shall it be,
+To thee, for thee, and in honour of thee.
+
+    _The Song.
+
+    Sweet Money, the minion that sails with all winds,
+    Sweet Money, the minstrel, that makes merry minds.
+        Flitozolaknops_[396]
+
+                                            [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+
+    _Enter_ LIBERALITY.
+
+LIB. The more a man with virtuous dealing doth himself inure,
+The less with worldly business he is molested sure;
+Which maketh proof that, as turmoils still toss the worldly mind:
+So minds exempt from worldly toil desired quiet find.
+And chiefly, where the life is led in virtuous exercise,
+There is no toil, but ease and contentation to the wise.
+But what account, how slight regard, is had of virtue here,
+By actions on this worldly stage most plainly doth appear.
+Men see without most just desert of virtue nought is got,
+To Fortune therefore fly they still, that giveth all by lot;
+And finding Fortune's gifts so pleasant, sweet, and savoury,
+They build thereon, as if they should endure perpetually.
+But this is sure, and that most sure, that Fortune is unsure,
+Herself most frail, her gifts as frail, subject to every shower:
+And in the end, who buildeth most upon her surety,
+Shall find himself cast headlong down to depth of misery.
+Then having felt the crafty sleights of Fortune's fickle train,
+Is forc'd to seek by virtue's aid to be relieved again.
+This is the end; run how he list, this man of force must do,
+Unless his life be clean cut off, this man must come unto:
+In time, therefore, man might do well to care for his estate,
+Lest, letted by extremity, repentance come too late.
+
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+
+    _Enter to_ LIBERALITY CAPTAIN WELL-DONE.
+
+CAP. W. Sir, I beseech you, speak a good word for me to the prince,
+That by her letters I may be commended to some province,
+Where service is to be had, either there to die with fame,
+Or else to get me somewhat, whereon to live without shame;
+For beg I cannot, and steal I may not, the truth is so;
+But need doth make, the proverb say'th, th'old wife to trot for woe.
+Yet whom stark need doth pinch, at length the devil drives to go:
+Therefore, I beseech you, pity his extremity,
+That would not make this suit without necessity.
+
+LIB. Who be you, my friend?
+
+CAP. W. By birth a gentleman, by profession a soldier,
+Who, though I say it, in all our sovereign's war,
+With hazard of my blood and life have gone as far,
+As haply some others, whose fortunes have been better:
+But I in service yet could never be a getter,
+Ne can I impute it but to mine own destiny:
+For well I know the prince is full of liberality.
+
+LIB. What is your name, sir?
+
+CAP. W. My name is Well-done.
+
+LIB. Are you Captain Well-done?
+
+CAP. W. Though unworthy, sir, I bear that name.
+
+LIB. Give me your hand, Captain Well-done, for your fame
+In feats of arms and service of your country
+I have heard oft; you have deserved greatly;
+Therefore think this that, as you merit much,
+So the consideration thereof shall be such,
+As duly doth pertain to your desert.
+Trust me, the prince herself, unmoved of my part,
+Your dutiful service hath specially regarded,
+And expressly commands that it be well rewarded
+Wherefore you shall not need to seek service abroad:
+I exhort you at home still to make your abode:
+That if in this realm occasions of wars be offered,
+You and others your like may be employed.
+
+CAP. W. My duty binds me to obey.
+
+LIB. Then for this time you shall not need to stay.
+As for your cause, I will remember it,
+And see it holpen too, as shall be fit.
+
+                                 [_Exit_ WELL-DONE.
+
+LIB. Truly, if I should not have care of this man's necessity,
+I should both swerve from virtue and from honesty.
+
+
+
+SCENE VI.
+
+
+    _Enter to_ LIBERALITY _a_ COURTIER.
+
+COUR. Sir, I humbly beseech you help to prefer my suit.
+
+LIB. What is it?
+
+COUR. There is an office fall'n, which I would gladly execute.
+
+LIB. Who be you?
+
+COUR. A servant here in court.
+
+LIB. Do you serve the prince?
+
+COUR. No, and please you.
+
+LIB. Whom then?
+
+COUR. A nobleman near about her majesty.
+
+LIB. In what degree?
+
+COUR. Forsooth, sir, as his secretary.
+
+LIB. How long have you served?
+
+COUR. A year or twain.
+
+LIB. And would you so soon be preferred?
+In sooth, my friend, I would be glad, as I may,
+To do you any good: but this I say:
+Who seeks by virtue preferment to attain,
+In virtuous proceeding must take more pain,
+Than can be well taken in a year or twain.
+For time gives experience of every man's deeds,
+And each man by merit accordingly speeds.
+Go forward, my friend, in virtue with diligence,
+And time, for your service, shall yield you recompence.
+Your lord and master is very honourable,
+And him in your suits you shall find favourable:
+And as for my part, as erst I did say,
+I never will hinder, where further I may.
+Let this for this time be your answer.
+
+COUR. Sir, with my boldness, I beseech you to bear.
+
+LIB. God be with you.    [_Exit_ COURTIER.
+Some men deserve, and yet do want their due;
+Some men, again, on small deserts do sue,
+It therefore standeth princes' officers in hand,
+The state of every man rightly to understand,
+That so by balance of equality
+Each man may have his hire[397] accordingly.
+Well, since dame Virtue unto me doth charge of many things refer,
+I must go do that best beseems a faithful officer.
+
+                                          [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT IV., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ MONEY.
+
+MON. _Liberty, liberty_! now I cry _liberty_!
+Catch me again, when you can, Prodigality!
+Never was there poor soul so cruelly handled.
+I was at the first, like a cockney[398] dandled,
+Strok'd on the head, kiss'd and well cherished,
+And so thought surely I should have continued:
+But now, how my case is altered suddenly!
+You would not believe, unless you saw it apparently.
+I'faith, since ye saw me, I have been turmoiled
+From post to pillar: see how I am spoiled.
+The villains among them provided the roast;
+But Money was forced to pay for the cost
+Both of their feasting and of their chamber cheer.
+Yea, in every place they have fleec'd me so near:
+He a fleece, and she a fleece, that nothing could I keep,
+But glad to run away like a new-shorn sheep.
+And though I have been pinched very near,
+I am glad to see you in good health, every one here:
+And now I have escaped the traitorous treachery
+Of such a thriftless, roisting company,
+To my mother in haste again I will get me,
+And keep at home safely: from thence let them fet me.
+                                              [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    _Enter_ VANITY _and_ MONEY.
+
+VAN. What, Master Money, how goeth the world with you?
+
+MON. Look but upon me, thou may'st quickly judge how.
+
+VAN. Why, where the vengeance, where the devil hast thou been?
+Among brambles or briars? or spirits, sure, I ween.
+
+MON. Both ween it and wot it! I have pass'd a wilderness
+Of most mischievous and miserable distress;
+Sharp brambles, sharp briars, and terrible scratchers,
+Bears, wolves, apes, lions, most ravening snatchers,
+Thorns, thistles, and nettles, most horrible stingers,
+Ravens, gripes and griphons. O vengeable wringers,
+Yea through my whole passage such damnable sights,
+As I cannot but judge them most damnable sprites.
+
+VAN. Ha, ha, ha, ha!
+
+MON. Laugh ye, my friend? It is no laughing toy.
+
+VAN. But who did guide you in this labyrinth of joy?
+
+MON. Who, sir? your minion, sir; Prodigality,
+The captain elected of all roisting knavery;
+He will be hang'd, I warrant him, shortly.
+
+VAN. Ha, ha, ha, ha!
+
+MON. Yet go to, laugh on!
+
+VAN. Are you not a cuck--cuck-cold?
+
+MON. I may be indeed; my clothes be but thin,
+And therefore I will even go get me in,
+That Fortune, my mother, may clothe me anew.    [_Exit_.
+
+VAN. Do so, you had need so, I may say to you.
+Now, sure, it is a world of worlds to see,
+How all the world inclines to Vanity;
+Men seek at first--that is but Vanity,
+And lose at last--that was but Vanity,
+And yet continue still to follow Vanity,
+As though it were a thing of certainty.
+And I, that bear the name of Vanity,
+And see the world's exceeding Vanity,
+In following so the tracks of Vanity,
+Do triumph still amid my empery,
+And laugh at their simplicity,
+That will be so misled by Vanity.
+But who is this? O, I know him, a scholar of our train,
+'Tis Hob-a-Clunch, that comes for money again.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+
+    _Enter to_ VANITY, TENACITY, FORTUNE, _and_ MONEY.
+
+TEN. God speed, Master Fanity.
+
+VAN. Wocum,[399] Master Tenacity.
+
+TEN. Sur, cham come once again vor money.
+
+VAN. So me thinks.
+
+TEN. Shall be sped now at length, trow ye?
+
+VAN. I cannot tell ye, 'tis hard to say;
+Peradventure yea, peradventure nay.
+
+TEN. How so, man?
+
+VAN. I fear me you will spend him too fast away.
+
+TEN. Ho, ho, ho, ho! dost thou vear that, friend Fanity?
+Shalt not need, man, chill keep him safe, che warrant thee.
+O, that chad him in my clutches, shouldst see, I trow,
+Whether chud keep him vast and safe, or no.
+I pray thee, good sweet Master Fanity,
+Speak one good word for poor Tenacity.
+
+VAN. And dost thou indeed so well love money?
+
+TEN. Do my wife's bees at home, think'st thou, love honey?
+
+VAN. What wouldst thou do with it?
+
+TEN. [_Hesitating_.] Chud, chud, chud, chud--
+
+VAN. _Chud, chud_! what _chud_?
+
+TEN. Chud--do no harm at all.
+
+VAN. No, nor much good, I think, to great nor small.
+But well, put case, I procure thee to speed,
+You will remember your promise that I shall be fee'd.
+
+TEN. God's vast, man, yea, chill do it, chill do it.
+
+VAN. Stand there a while, and wait.
+[_To_ FORTUNE.] Bright goddess, behold here again Tenacity,
+That humbly makes his suit to have money.
+
+MON. For Money? ho, there! Money finds himself well:
+Money now hath no liking from Fortune to dwell.
+
+VAN. _In vanum laboraverunt_, come.
+
+TEN. Now, good soot', honey, vair golden mustress,
+Let poor Tenacity taste of thy goodness:
+Thee che honour, thee che serve, thee che reverence,
+And in thy help che put my whole confidence.
+
+FOR. Money, you must go to him, there is no remedy.
+
+MON. Yea, and be us'd as before with Prodigality!
+
+TEN. Let Prodigality go to the gallows-tree!
+Why, man, he and I are clean contrary.
+I chill coll thee, chill cuss thee.
+
+MON, So did he.
+
+TEN. Chill save thee, chill spare thee, chill keep thee from wasting.
+
+MON. So did not he.
+Go to then, seeing that my mother's will is such,
+To put it in adventure I may not grutch.
+
+TEN. O my sweeting, my darling, my chewel, my joy,
+My pleasure, my treasure, mine own pretty boy.
+
+MON. How now? what mean you by this, Tenacity.
+
+TEN. O, forbid me not to kiss my sweet Money.
+Varewell, Vortune; and, Vortune, che thank thee alway.
+Come on, surrah, chill make you vast, bum vay.
+
+MON. What, with ropes? what needs that?
+
+TEN. Vor vear of robbing by the highway.
+_La, mi, fa, sol, fa; sol, mi, fa, re, mi_.
+
+    [_Exit_ TENACITY, _and goeth to the inn for his ass_.
+
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+
+    _Enter_ PRODIGALITY, DICK DICER, VANITY, _and_
+    [_to them afterwards_] TOM TOSS.
+
+PROD. O monstrous, vile, filthy luck! see, in the twinkling of an eye,
+Scarce knowing which way, I have quite lost my Money.
+
+DICK. Out of all doubt, Prodigality, he is not gone yonder way.
+
+PROD. Then seek some other course, make here no stay.
+He must be found out, there is no remedy.
+Thou know'st in what pickle we stand without Money.
+
+DICK. Why, sure, Prodigality, it can be no other,
+But he is returned to Fortune his mother.
+
+PROD. Thinkest thou so?
+Thou, Fortune, hearest thou? by fair means, I advise thee,
+Restore my Money to me again: deal plainly and wisely;
+Or by this sharp-edged sword, shalt see me play a proud part,
+For I will have him again, in spite of thy heart.
+
+VAN. Whom have we there, that keepeth such a coil.
+
+PROD. Even he that will not put up such a foil.
+
+VAN. What's the matter?
+
+PROD. Vanity, to that dame thy mistress commend me,
+Tell her--tell her, it doth not a little offend me,
+To have my money in such great despite,
+Taken so from me without any right.
+What though it were once her own proper gift?
+Yet given, 'tis mine own, there is no other shift.
+Therefore charge her, in the name of Prodigality,
+That he be restor'd to me incontinently,
+Lest she repent it--
+
+VAN. These be sore and cruel threat'nings, marry.
+Is your haste so great, that by no means you may tarry?
+
+PROD. I will not tarry, and therefore make haste.
+
+VAN. Soft, sir, a little, there is no time pass'd.
+You may tarry, you must tarry, for aught as I know:
+Nay, then you shall tarry, whether you will or no.
+                                            [_Exit_.
+
+DICER. 'Zwounds, sir, he mocks you.
+
+PROD. Gibe not with me, you whoreson rascal slave!
+For money I come, and money will I have.
+Sirrah Vanity, Vanity! What, Vanity!
+Speak and be hang'd, Vanity! What, will't not be?
+
+DICER. What a prodigious knave, what a slave is this?    [_Aside_.
+
+PROD. Fortune, fine Fortune, you minion, if ye be wise,
+Bethink ye betimes, take better advice:
+Restore unto me my money quietly,
+Else look for wars: Vanity, Fortune, Vanity!
+
+DICER. Sir, you see it booteth not.
+
+PROD. It is but my ill-luck.
+Now the devil and his dam give them both suck!
+What may we do? what counsel giv'st thou, Dick?
+
+DICER. Marry, sir, be rul'd by me; I'll show you a trick,
+How you may have him quickly.
+
+PROD. As how?
+
+DICER. Scale the walls: in at the window; by force fet him.
+
+PROD. None better, in faith; fetch a ladder, and I will set him.
+Fortune, thou injurious dame, thou shalt not by this villany
+Have cause to triumph over Prodigality.
+Why speak'st thou not? why speak'st thou not, I say?
+Thy silence doth but breed thine own hurt and decay.
+
+DICER. Here is a ladder.
+
+PROD. Set it to.
+
+    [_Here_ PRODIGALITY _scaleth_; FORTUNE _claps a halter
+    about his neck; he breaketh the halter, and falls_.
+
+PROD. 'Swounds! help, Dick: help quickly, or I am chok'd!
+
+DICER. God-a-mercy, good halter, or else you had been yok'd!
+
+PROD. O thou vile, ill-favoured, crow-trodden, pye-pecked ront!
+Thou abominable, blind foul-filth,[400] is this thy wont:
+First, maliciously to spoil men of their good,
+And then by subtle sleights thus to seek their blood?
+I abhor thee--I defy thee, wheresoever I go;
+I do proclaim myself thy mortal foe.
+
+    [_Enter_ TOM TOSS.][401]
+
+TOM TOSS. News, Prodigality, news!
+
+DICER. Good, and God will?
+
+PROD. What news, Tom?
+
+TOSS. I have met with Money.
+
+PROD. Where?
+
+TOSS. Marry, sir, he is going into a strange country
+With an old chuff, called Tenacity.
+
+PROD. Tenacity? is that tinker's budget so full of audacity?
+
+TOSS. 'Tis true.
+
+PROD. May we not overtake him?
+
+TOSS. Yes, easily with good horses.
+
+PROD. Let's go then, for God's sake; we'll catch him in a trap.
+
+DICER _and_ TOSS. Go; we will go with you, whatever shall hap.
+
+                                                     [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+
+    _Enter_ VANITY.[402]
+
+VAN. O rotten rope, that thou must be so brittle!
+Hadst thou but happened to have held a little,
+I had taught my princocks against another time
+So to presume Dame Fortune's bower to climb.
+To make such a 'scape, his hap was very good:
+Well, he 'scaped fair, I swear by the rood:
+But will you have me say my fantasy,
+_Quod differtur, non aufertur_; for assuredly
+The gentleman will never hold himself quiet,
+Till once more he come to taste of this diet.
+Mark the end.
+
+FOR. Vanity!    [_From a window_.
+
+VAN. Madam.
+
+FOR. Is this roister gone?
+
+VAN. Yea, madam, he is gone.
+
+FOR. Then get thee anon,
+And cause my attendants to come away,
+For here as now I will no longer stay,
+But prosecute this foe of mine so fast
+By mischiefs all I may, that at the last
+He shall arrive unto a wretched end,
+And with repentance learn how to offend
+A goddess of my state and dignity.
+
+VAN. Lady, to do your will I hasten willingly.
+                                [VANITY _exit_.
+
+    FORTUNE _comes down_.
+
+FOR. Dame Fortune's power, her most exceeding might,
+Is known by this as an undoubted thing:
+Since here most plainly hath appear'd in sight,
+How all the world doth hang upon her wing,
+How high and low, of all states and degrees,
+Do rise and fall again, as she decrees.
+Then let not Virtue think it scorn to yield
+To Fortune, chief of power, chief sovereignty:
+Sith Fortune here by proof hath won the field,
+Subdu'd her foes, and got the victory:
+For as she list to favour, else to frown,
+She hoisteth up, or headlong hurleth down.
+
+    [_Enter_ VANITY _again_.][403]
+
+VAN. Madam, here are your vassals ready prest,
+To do the thing that Fortune liketh best.
+
+FOR. Well, then, come on to witness this our victory;
+Depart we hence with sound of fame triumphantly.
+
+                [_Cries of Reverence, due reverence_!
+
+
+
+
+ACT V., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ PRODIGALITY, MONEY, TOSS, DICER.
+
+PROD. [_to_ MONEY.] Come on, my bulchin;[404] come on, my fat ox:[405]
+Come, porkling, come on; come, pretty twattox.[406]
+Why, will it not be? yet faster, a cur'sy![407]
+This gentleman of late is waxen so pursy,
+As at every land's-end he seeketh to rest him.
+How think ye? hath not Tenacity trimly dress'd him?
+
+MON. Prodigality, if thou lovest me, let us here stay:
+For sure I can do no more than I may.
+I am out of breath, as weary as a dog.
+                      [_He falls down upon his elbow_.
+
+TOSS. A luskish lubber, as fat as a hog!
+
+PROD. Come up, gentle Money; we may not here stay.
+
+MON. I must needs, Prodigality, there is no nay;
+For if I should stir me one inch from the ground,
+I think I shall die, sure, or fall in a sound.[408]
+
+PROD. Then must you be drawn.
+
+MON. Drawn or hang'd, all is one:
+For I cannot stir me; my breath is clean gone.
+
+PROD. How like ye this _grossum corpus_, so mightily grown?
+
+TOSS. I like him the better, that he is your own.
+
+DICER. A more monstrous beast, a beast more unwieldy,
+Since first I was born, yet[409] never beheld I.
+
+PROD. Indeed, the whoreson is waxen somewhat too fat;
+But we will find medicines to remedy that.
+
+TOSS. Sir, let me but have him a little in cure,
+To put my poor practice of physic in ure,
+And I dare warrant ye, with a purgation or twain,
+I'll quickly rid him out of all this pain.
+
+PROD. I think a glister were better.
+
+DICER. Nay, rather a suppository.
+
+TOSS. Nay, then, what say you to letting of blood?
+
+DICER. I think that some of these should do him good.
+Ask the physician.
+
+MON. Prodigality?
+
+PROD. Ho!
+
+MON. I am sick.
+
+PROD. Where, man?
+
+MON. Faith, here, in my belly.
+It swells, I assure ye, out of all measure.
+
+PROD. Take heed it grow not to a timpany.
+
+MON. And if it do, what is the danger then?
+
+PROD. A consumption.
+
+MON. A consumption? marry, God forbid, man.
+
+TOSS. What think you now of Tenacity?
+Was he your friend or your foe?
+
+MON. Ah, that wretch Tenacity hath brought me to all this woe.
+'Twas he, indeed, that sought to destroy me,
+In that he would never use or employ[410] me:
+But, Prodigality, sweet Prodigality,
+Help to provide some present remedy:
+Let me not be thus miserably spilt;
+Ease me of this, and use me as thou wilt.
+Yet had I rather live in state bare and thin,
+Than in this monstrous plight that now I am in:
+So fatty, so foggy, so out of all measure,
+That in myself I take no kind of pleasure.
+
+PROD. Why, rise up then quickly, and let us be gone.
+
+MON. Friends, you must help me, I cannot rise alone.
+
+DICER. Come on, my sweet Money, we must have a mean
+To turn this foggy fat to a finer lean.
+
+MON. The sooner the better.
+
+TOSS. Nay, Money, doubt not, but by sweat or by vomit
+I warrant thee, boy, shortly thou shalt be rid from it.
+
+PROD. Rid, quotha? if shaving, or boxing, or scouring,
+Or 'nointing, or scraping, or purging, or blood-letting,
+Or rubbing, or paring, or chafing, or fretting,
+Or ought else will rid it, he shall want no ridding.    [_Aside_.
+Come on, Money, let's be jogging!
+
+                         _Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    PRODIGALITY, DICER, &c., _to whom enter_ CONSTABLE,
+    _making hue and cry, and_ HOST.[411]
+
+CON. Thieves, neighbours, thieves! come forth, beset the country.
+
+PROD. Hark! list a while, what might this clamour be?
+
+DICER. 'Zwounds, we are undone, Prodigality;
+The constables come after with hue and cry.
+
+TOSS. O Cerberus, what shall we do?
+
+PROD. Stand back, lie close, and let them pass by.
+
+                                    [_They retire_.
+
+CON. Thieves, thieves! O vile, O detestable deed!
+Thieves, neighbours! come forth, away, abroad with speed.
+Where dwell these constables?
+
+HOST. Why? what's the matter, friend, I pray?
+
+CON. Why, thieves, man, I tell thee, come away.
+
+HOST. Thieves, i'faith? Wife! my scull, my jack, my brown bill.
+
+CON. Come away quickly.
+
+HOST. Dick, Tom, Will, ye whoresons, make ye all ready, and haste;
+But let me hear, how stands the case?
+                        [_Follows_ CONSTABLE.[412]
+
+CON. Marry, sir, here-by. Not far from this place,
+A plain simple man, riding on his ass,
+Meaning home to his country in God's peace to pass,
+By certain roisters, most furious and mad,
+Is spoiled and robbed of all that he had.
+And yet not contented, when they had his money,
+But the villains have also murdered him most cruelly.
+
+HOST. Good God, for his mercy!
+
+CON. It was my hap to come then present[ly] by him,
+And found him dead, with twenty wounds upon him.
+
+HOST. But what became of them?
+
+CON. They fled this way.
+
+HOST. Then, neighbour, let us here no longer stay,
+But hence and lay the country roundabout:
+They shall be quickly found, I have no doubt.
+
+                                        [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+
+    _Enter_ VIRTUE _and_ EQUITY, _with other attendants_.
+
+VIR. My lords, you see how far this worldly state perverted is;
+From good declin'd, inclined still to follow things amiss:
+You see but very few that make of Virtue any price:
+You see all sorts with hungry wills run headlong into vice.
+
+EQ. We see it oft, we sorrow much, and heartily lament,
+That of himself man should not have a better government.
+
+VER. The very beasts that be devoid of reason, dull and dumb,
+By nature learn to shun those things whereof their hurt may come.
+If man were then but as a beast, only by nature taught,
+He would also by nature learn to shun what things are nought.
+But man with reason is endued: he reason hath for stay;
+Which reason should restrain his will from going much astray.
+
+EQ. Madam, 'tis true:
+Where reason rules, there is the golden mean.
+
+VER. But most men stoop to stubborn will,
+Which conquereth reason clean.
+
+EQ. And will again to fancy yields,
+Which twain be special guides,
+That train a man to tread ill paths,
+Where ease and pleasure bides.
+
+VER. No ease, no pleasure, can be good, that is not got with pains.
+
+EQ. That is the cause from Virtue's love
+Man's fancy still refrains.
+
+VER. And pains, I think, they feel likewise,
+That unto vice do bend.
+
+EQ. They feel, no doubt: but yet such pains
+Come not before the end.
+
+VIR. I grieve for man, that man should be of ill attempts so[413] fain.
+
+EQ. Grieve not for that: evil tasted once, turns him to good again.
+
+VIR. Then will I take a cheerful mind,
+Unpleasant thoughts expel,
+And cares for man commit to them,
+That in the heavens do dwell.
+
+EQ. Do so, dear madam, I beseech you most heartily,
+And recreate yourself, before you go hence, with some sweet melody.
+
+    _The Song.
+
+    If pleasure be the only thing,
+    That man doth seek so much:
+    Chief pleasures rest, where virtue rules:
+    No pleasure[s] can be such.
+
+    Though Virtue's ways be very strait,
+    Her rocks be hard to climb:
+    Yet such as do aspire thereto,
+    Enjoy all joys in time.
+
+    Plain is the passage unto vice,
+    The gaps lie wide to ill:
+    To them that wade through lewdness' lake
+    The ice is broken still.
+
+    This therefore is the difference,
+    The passage first seems hard
+    To Virtue's train; but then most sweet
+    At length is their reward.
+
+    To those again, that follow vice,
+    The way is fair and plain;
+    But fading pleasures in the end
+    Are bought with lasting[414] pain.
+
+    If pleasure be the only thing, &c_.
+
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+
+    _Enter_ VIRTUE, EQUITY, LIBERALITY, MONEY, _and the_ SHERIFF.
+
+VIR. Now, my lords, I see no cause but that depart we may.
+
+EQ. Madam, to that shall like you best we willingly obey.
+
+LIB. Yet,[415] lady, stay awhile, and hear of strange adventures.
+
+VIR. Of what adventures tell you? let us know.
+
+LIB. Master Sheriff, of that is happened do you make show.
+
+SHER. Then, may it please you, the effect is this:
+There is a certain roister, named Prodigality,
+That long about this town hath ruffled in great jollity!
+A man long suspected of very lewd behaviour,
+Yet standing ever so high in Fortune's favour,
+As never till now he could be bewrayed
+Of any offence, that to him might be laid:
+Now wanting (belike) his wonted bravery,
+He thought to supply it by murther and robbery.
+
+EQ. By murther and robbery?
+
+SHER. Yea, sure.
+
+VIR. How?
+
+SHER. This gallant, I tell you, with other lewd franions,
+Such as himself, unthrifty companions,
+In most cruel sort, by the highway-side,
+Assaulted a countryman as he homewards did ride:
+Robbed him, and spoiled him of all that they might,
+And lastly bereav'd him of his life outright.
+
+VIR. O horrible fact!
+
+SHER. The country hereupon rais'd hue and try straightway:
+He is apprehended, his fellows fled away.
+I supplying, though unworthy, for this year
+The place of an officer, and sheriff of the shire,
+To my prince's use, have seized on his money,
+And bring you the same, according to my duty:
+Praying the party may have the law with speed,
+That others may be terrified from so foul a deed.
+
+VIR. So horrible a fact can hardly plead for favour:
+Therefore go you, Equity, examine more diligently
+The manner of this outrageous robbery:
+And as the same by examination shall appear,
+Due justice may be done in presence here.
+
+EQ. It shall be done, madam.
+
+SHER. Then, madam, I pray you, appoint some officer to take the money,
+That I may return again with Equity.
+
+VIR. Let it be delivered to my steward Liberality.
+
+                                         [_Exeunt_.
+
+LIB. What, Money? how come you to be so fat and foggy?
+
+MON. Surely, sir, by the old chuff, that miser Tenacity.
+
+LIB. How so?
+
+MON. He would never let me abroad to go,
+But lock'd me up in coffers, or in bags bound me fast,
+That, like a boar in a sty, he fed me at last,
+Thus Tenacity did spoil me for want of exercise:
+But Prodigality, clean contrariwise,
+Did toss me and fleece me, so bare and so thin,
+That he left nothing on me but very bone and skin.
+
+LIB. Well, Money, will you bide with him that can devise
+To rid you and keep you from these extremities?
+
+MON. Who is that?
+
+LIB. Even myself, Liberality.
+
+MON. Sir, I like you well, and therefore willingly
+I am contented with you to remain,
+So as you protect me from the other twain.
+
+LIB. I warrant thee.
+First, from thy bands I'll set thee free,
+And after thy sickness cured shall be.
+
+MON. Thanks and obedience I yield and vow to Liberality.
+
+                                          [_Exit_ MONEY.
+
+    _Enter_ CAPTAIN WELL-DONE [_and other_ SUITORS.]
+
+CAP. W. My lord, according to your appointment and will,
+I come to attend your pleasure.
+
+LIB. Have you brought your bill?[416]
+
+CAP. W. Yea, my lord.
+
+LIB. Give it me.
+I'll be your mean unto the prince, that it may despatched be:
+The while take here these hundred crowns, to relieve ye.
+
+CAP. W. God save the queen, and God save Liberality!
+
+2D SUITOR. Sir, I have long served the prince at great expense,
+And long have I been promised a recompense:
+I beseech you consider of me.
+
+LIB. What, do you serve without fee?
+
+2D SUITOR. Yea, truly, sir.
+
+LIB. Hold, pray for the queen.    [_Gives him money_.]
+
+2D SUITOR. It shall be my prayer day and night truly:
+God save the queen, and God save Liberality!
+
+3D SUITOR. Now, good my lord, vouchsafe of your charity
+To cast here aside your faithful eye
+Upon a poor soldier, naked and needy,
+That in the queen's wars was maimed, as you see.
+
+LIB. Where have you served?
+
+3D SUITOR. In France, in Flanders; but in Ireland most.
+
+LIB. Under whom?
+
+3D SUITOR. Under Captain Well-done.
+
+CAP. W. He was my soldier indeed, sir, until he lost his leg.
+
+LIB. Hold, pray for the queen.    [_Gives him money_.]
+
+3D SUITOR. God save the queen, and God save Liberality!
+
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+
+    _Enter_ TIPSTAVES, LIBERALITY, SHERIFF, CLERKS,
+    CRIER, PRODIGALITY, [_to whom_] _the_ JUDGE.
+
+TIP. Room, my masters, give place, stand by:
+Sir Equity hath sent me to let you understand,
+That hither he will resort out of hand,
+To sit upon the arraignment of Prodigality.
+
+LIB. In good time.
+
+TIP.               Behold, he comes.
+
+LIB. Now, Equity, how falls the matter out?
+
+EQ. That Prodigality is guilty of the fact, no doubt.
+And therefore for furtherance of justice effectually,
+My lord the judge comes to sit upon him presently:
+Wherein we crave your assistance.
+
+LIB. I'll wait upon you.
+
+TIP. Room, my masters, room for my lord: stand by.
+
+    _The_ JUDGE _placed, and the_ CLERKS _under him_.
+
+JUDGE. Call for the prisoner.
+
+CLERK. Make an oyes, Crier.
+
+CRIER. Oyes, oyes, oyes!
+
+CLERK. Sheriff of Middlesex.
+
+CRIER. Sheriff of Middlesex.
+
+CLERK. Bring forth the prisoner.
+
+CRIER. Bring forth the prisoner.
+
+CLERK. Prodigality.
+
+CRIER. Prodigality.
+
+CLERK. Pain of the peril shall fall thereon.
+
+CRIER. Pain of the peril shall fall thereon.
+
+SHER. Here, sir.
+
+CLERK. Prodigality, hold up thy hand.    [_He holds it up_.
+Thou art indicted here by the name of Prodigality,
+For that thou, the fourth day of February,
+In the three and forty year of the prosperous reign
+Of Elizabeth, our dread sovereign,
+By the grace of God, of England, France, and Ireland queen,
+Defender of the faith, &c.,
+Together with the other malefactors yet unknown,
+At Highgate,[417] in the county of Middlesex, aforesaid,
+Didst feloniously take from one Tenacity,
+Of the parish of Pancridge,[418] yeoman, in the said county,
+One thousand pounds of gold and silver sterling.
+And also, how thyself, the said Prodigality,
+With a sword, price twenty shillings, then and there cruelly
+Didst give the said Tenacity upon the head
+One mortal wound, whereof he is now dead,
+Contrary to the queen's peace, her crown, and dignity.
+
+JUDGE. How say'st thou, Prodigality, to this robbery,
+Felony, and murther? art thou guilty
+Or not guilty?
+
+PROD.          My lord, I beseech you
+Grant me counsel to plead my cause.
+
+JUDGE. That may not be; it standeth not with our laws.
+
+PROD. Then, good my lord, let me some respite take.
+
+JUDGE. Neither may that be; thus doth the indictment lie,
+Thou art accus'd of murther and of robbery,
+To which thou must now answer presently,
+Whether thou be thereof guilty or not guilty.
+
+PROD. Well, since there is no other remedy,
+And that my fact falls out so apparently,
+I will confess that indeed I am guilty,
+Most humbly appealing to the prince's mercy.
+
+JUDGE. Then what canst thou say for thyself, Prodigality,
+That according to the law thou shouldst not die?
+
+PROD. Nothing, my lord; but still appeal to the prince's mercy.
+
+JUDGE. Then hearken to thy judgment: thou,
+Prodigality, by that name hast been
+Indicted and arraigned here of a robbery,
+Murther, and felony, against the laws committed
+By thee: the indictment whereof being read unto thee
+Here, thou confessest thyself to be guilty therein:
+Whereupon I judge thee to be had from hence
+To the place thou cam'st fro, and from thence to
+The place of execution, there to be hanged,
+Till thou be dead. God have mercy on thee!
+
+PROD. My lord, I most humbly beseech you to hear me.
+
+JUDGE. Say on.
+
+PROD. I confess I have run a wanton wicked race,
+Which now hath brought me to this woful wretched case:
+I am heartily sorry, and with tears do lament
+My former lewd and vile misgovernment.
+I find the brittle stay of trustless Fortune's state.
+My heart now thirsteth after Virtue all too late:
+Yet, good my lord, of pity condescend
+To be a mean for him that meaneth to amend.
+The prince is merciful, of whose great mercy
+Full many have largely tasted already;
+Which makes me appeal thereto more boldly.
+
+JUDGE. Prodigality, I not mislike your wailful disposition;
+And therefore for you to the prince there shall be made petition,
+That though your punishment be not fully remitted,
+Yet in some part it may be qualified.
+
+PROD. God save your life!
+
+    VIRTUE, EQUITY, LIBERALITY, JUDGE, _and all come
+    down before the_ QUEEN, _and, after reverence made_,
+    VIRTUE _speaketh_
+
+
+THE EPILOGUE.
+
+_Most mighty queen, yonder I sat in place,
+Presenting show of chiefest dignity;
+Here prostrate, lo, before your princely grace
+I show myself, such as I ought to be,
+Your humble vassal, subject to your will,
+With fear and love your grace to reverence still_.
+
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+GRIM THE COLLIER OF CROYDON.
+
+
+
+
+EDITION.
+
+
+_Grim the Collier of Croyden; or, The Devil and his Dame: with the Devil
+and Saint Dunston. By I.T. London. Printed in the year_ [1662]. 12mo.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+The initial letters J.T. are placed before this play as those belonging
+to the author of it. What his name was, or what his condition, are
+alike unknown. It was printed in 12mo, 1662, with two others, "Thorny
+Abby; or, The London Maid," and "The Marriage Broker," in a volume
+entitled "Gratiae Theatrales; or, A Choice Ternary of English Plays."
+Chetwood says it was printed in 1599, and Whincop, in the year
+1606.[419] I cannot but suspect the fidelity of both these writers
+in this particular.[420]
+
+
+
+
+PROLOGUE
+
+
+You're welcome; but our plot I dare not tell ye,
+For fear I fright a lady with great belly:
+Or should a scold be 'mong you, I dare say
+She'd make more work than the devil in the play.
+Heard you not never how an actor's wife,
+Whom he (fond fool) lov'd dearly as his life,
+Coming in's way did chance to get a jape,[421]
+As he was 'tired in his devil's shape;
+And how equivocal a generation
+Was then begot, and brought forth thereupon?
+Let it not fright you; this I dare to say,
+Here is no lecherous devil in our play.
+He will not rumple Peg, nor Joan, nor Nan,
+But has enough at home to do with Marian,
+Whom he so little pleases, she in scorn
+Does teach his devilship to wind the horn;
+But if your children cry when Robin comes,
+You may to still them buy here pears or plums.
+Then sit you quiet all who are come in,
+St Dunstan will soon enter and begin.
+
+
+
+
+DRAMATIS PERSONAE.
+
+
+ST DUNSTAN, _Abbot of Glastonbury_.
+MORGAN, _Earl of London_.
+LACY, _Earl of Kent_.
+HONOREA, _Morgan's daughter_.
+MARIAN, _her Waiting-maid_.
+NAN, _Marian's maid_.
+MUSGRAVE, _a young Gentleman_.
+CAPTAIN CLINTON.
+MILES FORREST, _a Gentleman_.
+RALPH HARVEY, _an Apothecary_.
+GRIM, _the Collier of Croydon_.
+PARSON SHORTHOSE.
+CLACK, _a Miller_.
+JOAN, _a Country Maid_.
+PLUTO,                            |
+MINOS,                            |
+AEACUS                            |   _Devils_.
+RHADAMANTHUS,                     |
+BELPHEGOR,                        |
+AKERCOCK, _or Robin Goodfellow_,  |
+MALBECCO'S _Ghost, Officers, Attendants, &c.
+
+The Stage is England_.
+
+
+
+
+GRIM[422] THE COLLIER OF CROYDON.
+
+
+
+ACT I., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _A place being provided for the devil's consistory, enter_
+    ST DUNSTAN, _with his beads, book, and crosier-staff, &c_.
+
+ST. DUN. Envy, that always waits on virtue's train,
+And tears the graves of quiet sleeping souls,
+Hath brought me after many hundred years
+To show myself again upon the earth.
+Know then (who list) that I am English born,
+My name is Dunstan; whilst I liv'd with men,
+Chief primate of the holy English church.
+I was begotten in West Saxony:[423]
+My father's name was Heorstan, my mother's Cinifred.
+Endowed with my merit's legacy,
+I flourish'd in the reign of seven great kings:
+The first was Athelstane, whose niece Elfleda
+Malicious tongues reported I defiled:
+Next him came Edmond, then Edred, and Edwy.
+And after him reign'd Edgar, a great prince.
+But full of many crimes, which I restrain'd:
+Edward his son, and lastly Ethelred.
+With all these kings was I in high esteem,
+And kept both them and all the land in awe:
+And, had I liv'd, the Danes had never boasted
+Their then beginning conquest of this land.
+Yet some accuse me for a conjuror,
+By reason of those many miracles
+Which heaven for holy life endowed me with;
+But whoso looks into the "Golden Legend"[424]
+(That sacred register of holy saints)
+Shall find me by the pope canonised,
+And happily the cause of this report
+Might rise by reason of a vision
+Which I beheld in great King Edgar's days,
+Being that time Abbot of Glastonbury,
+Which (for it was a matter of some worth)
+I did make known to few until this day:
+But now I purpose that the world shall see
+How much those slanderers have wronged me:
+Nor will I trouble you with courts and kings;
+Or drive a feigned battle out of breath;
+Or keep a coil myself upon the stage;
+But think you see me in my secret cell,
+Arm'd with my portass,[425] bidding of my beads.
+But on a sudden I'm o'ercome with sleep!
+If aught ensue, watch you, for Dunstan[426] dreams.
+
+    [_He layeth him down to sleep; lightning and thunder;
+    the curtains drawn on a sudden_; PLUTO, MINOS, AEACUS,
+    RHADAMANTHUS, _set in counsel; before them_ MALBECCO'S
+    _ghost guarded with furies_.
+
+PLU. You ever-dreaded judges of black hell,
+Grim Minos, Aeacus, and Rhadamanth,
+Lords of Cocytus, Styx, and Phlegethon,
+Princes of darkness, Pluto's ministers,
+Know that the greatness of his present cause
+Hath made ourselves in person sit as judge,
+To hear th'arraignment of Malbecco's ghost.
+Stand forth, thou ghastly pattern of despair,
+And to this powerful synod tell thy tale,
+That we may hear if thou canst justly say
+Thou wert not author of thy own decay.
+
+MAL.[427] Infernal Jove, great prince of Tartary,
+With humble reverence poor Malbecco speaks,
+Still trembling with the fatal memory
+Of his so late concluded tragedy.
+I was (with thanks to your great bounty) bred
+A wealthy lord, whilst that I liv'd on earth;
+And so might have continu'd to this day,
+Had not that plague of mankind fall'n on me:
+For I (poor man) join'd woe unto my name
+By choosing out a woman for my wife.
+A wife! a curse ordained for the world.
+Fair Helena! fair she was indeed,
+But foully stain'd with inward wickedness.
+I kept her bravely, and I lov'd her dear;
+But that dear love did cost my life and all.
+To reckon up a thousand of her pranks,
+Her pride, her wasteful spending, her unkindness,
+Her false dissembling, seeming sanctity,
+Her scolding, pouting, prating, meddling,
+And twenty hundred more of the same stamp,
+Were but to heap[428] an endless catalogue
+Of what the world is plagu'd with every day.
+But for the main of that I have to tell,
+It chanced thus--Late in a rainy night,
+A crew of gallants came unto my house,
+And (will I, nill I) would forsooth be lodg'd.
+I brought them in, and made them all good cheer
+(Such as I had in store), and lodg'd them soft.
+Amongst them one, ycleped[429] Paridell
+(The falsest thief that ever trod on ground),
+Robb'd me, and with him stole away my wife.
+I (for I lov'd her dear) pursu'd the thief,
+And after many days in travel spent,
+Found her amongst a crew of satyrs wild,
+Kissing and colling[430] all the livelong night.
+I spake her fair, and pray'd her to return;
+But she in scorn commands me to be gone,
+And glad I was to fly, to save my life.
+But when I backward came unto my house,
+I find it spoil'd, and all my treasure gone.
+Desp'rate and mad, I ran I knew not whither,
+Calling and crying out on heaven and fate,
+Till, seeing none to pity my distress,
+I threw myself down headlong on a rock,
+And so concluded all my ills at once.
+Now, judge you, justice benchers, if my wife
+Were not the instrument to end my life.
+
+PLU. Can it be possible (you lords of hell)
+Malbecco's tale of women should be true?
+Is marriage now become so great a curse,
+That whilom was the comfort of the world?
+
+MIN. Women, it seems, have lost their native shame,
+As no man better may complain than I;
+Though not of any whom I made my wife,
+But of my daughter, who procured my fall.
+
+AEAC. 'Tis strange what plaints are brought us every day
+Of men made miserable by marriage;
+So that, amongst a thousand, scarcely ten
+Have not some grievous actions 'gainst their wives.
+
+RHA. My lord, if Rhadamanth might counsel you,
+Your grace should send some one into the world,
+That might make proof if it be true or no.
+
+PLU. And wisely hast thou counseled, Rhadamanth,
+Call in Belphegor to me presently;
+        [_One of the furies goes for_ BELPHEGOR.
+He is the fittest that I know in hell
+To undertake a task of such import;
+For he is patient, mild, and pitiful--
+Humours but ill agreeing with our kingdom.
+
+    _Enter_ BELPHEGOR.
+
+And here he comes. Belphegor, so it is,
+We in our awful synod have decreed
+(Upon occasion to ourselves best known)
+That thou from hence shall go into the world,
+And take upon thee the shape of a man,
+In which estate thou shalt be married.
+Choose thee a wife that best may please thyself,
+And live with her a twelvemonth and a day.
+Thou shalt be subject unto human chance,
+So far as common wit cannot relieve thee;
+Thou shalt of us receive ten thousand pounds,
+Sufficient stock to use for thy increase:
+But whatsoever happens in that time,
+Look not from us for succour or relief.
+This shalt thou do, and when the time's expired,
+Bring word to us what thou hast seen and done.
+
+BEL. With all my heart, my lord, I am content,
+So I may have my servant Akercock
+To wait on[431] me, as if he were my man,
+That he may witness likewise what is done.
+
+PLU. We are contented, he shall go with thee.
+
+MIN. But what meantime decrees your majesty
+Of poor Malbecco?
+
+PLU. He shall rest with us,
+Until Belphegor do return again;
+And as he finds, so will we give his doom.
+Come, let us go and set our spyal[432] forth,
+Who for a time must make experiment,
+If hell be not on earth as well as here.
+
+                                         [_Exeunt_.
+
+    [_It thunders and lightens; the devils go forth_;
+    DUNSTAN, _rising, runneth about the stage, laying
+    about him with his staff_.
+
+ST DUN. Satan, avaunt! thou art man's enemy:
+Thou shalt not live amongst us so unseen,
+So to betray us to the prince of darkness.
+Satan, avaunt! I do conjure thee hence.--
+What, dream'st thou, Dunstan? yea, I dream'd indeed.
+Must then the devil come into the world?
+Such is, belike, the infernal king's decree;
+Well, be it so; for Dunstan is content.
+Mark well the process of the devil's disguise,
+Who happily may learn you to be wise.
+Women, beware, and make your bargains well,
+The devil, to choose a wife, is come from hell.
+
+                                        [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+    _Enter_ MORGAN, _Earl of London_, LACY, _Earl of Kent,
+    with_ MILES FORREST.
+
+MOR. My Lord of Kent, your honour knows my mind,
+That ever has, and still does honour you,
+Accounting it my daughter's happiness
+(Amidst her other infelicities),
+That you vouchsafe to love her as you do.
+How gladly I would grant your lordship's suit
+The heavens can witness, which with ruthless ears
+Have often heard my yet unpitied plaints;
+And could I find some means for her recovery,
+None but yourself should have her to your wife.
+
+LACY. My Lord of London, now long time it is,
+Since Lacy first was suitor to your daughter,
+The fairest Honorea, in whose eyes
+Honour itself in love's sweet bosom lies.
+What shall we say, or seem to strive with heaven,
+Who speechless sent her first into the world?
+In vain it is for us to think to loose
+That which by nature's self we see is bound.
+Her beauty, with her other virtues join'd,
+Are gifts sufficient, though she want a tongue:
+And some will count it virtue in a woman
+Still to be bound to unoffending silence;
+Though I could wish with half of all my lands,
+That she could speak: but since it may not be,
+'Twere vain to imprison beauty with her speech.
+
+FOR. Have you not heard, my lords, the wondrous fame
+Of holy Dunstan, Abbot of Glastonbury?
+What miracles he hath achiev'd of late;
+And how the rood of Dovercourt[433] did speak,
+Confirming his opinion to be true:
+And how the holy consistory fell,
+With all the monks that were assembled there,
+Saving one beam, whereon this Dunstan sat;
+And other more such miracles as these.
+They say he is of such religious life,
+That angels often use to talk with him,
+And tell to him the secrets of the heavens.
+No question, if your honours would but try,
+He could procure my lady for to speak.
+
+MOR. Believe me, Forrest, thou hast well advis'd,
+For I have heard of late much talk of him.
+
+LACY. Is not that Dunstan he who check'd the king
+About his privy dealing with the nun,
+And made him to do penance for the fault?
+
+MOR. The same is he; for whom I straight will send.
+Miles Forrest shall in post to Glastonbury,
+And gently pray the abbot for my sake
+To come to London. Sure, I hope the heavens
+Have ordain'd Dunstan to do Morgan good.
+
+LACY. Let us despatch him thither presently;
+For I myself will stay for his return,
+And see some end or other, ere I go.
+
+MOR. Come, then, Lord Lacy: Forrest, come away.
+
+                                      [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+
+    _Enter_ BELPHEGOR, _attired like a physician_;
+    AKERCOCK, _his man, in a tawny coat_.
+
+BEL. Now is Belphegor, an incarnate devil,
+Come to the earth to seek him out a dame:
+Hell be my speed! and so, I hope, it will.
+In lovely London are we here arrived;
+Where, as I hear, the earl hath a fair daughter
+So full of virtue and soft modesty,
+That yet she never gave a man foul word.
+
+AKER. Marry, indeed, they say she cannot speak.
+
+BEL. For this cause have I taken this disguise,
+And will profess me a physician,
+Come up on purpose for to cure the lady:
+Marry, no may[434] shall bind me but herself,
+And she I do intend shall be my wife.
+
+AKER. But, master, tell me one thing by the way:
+Do you not mean that I shall marry too?
+
+BEL. No, Akercock, thou shalt be still unwed;
+For if they be as bad as is reported,
+One wife will be enough to tire us both.
+
+AKER. O, then you mean that I shall now and then
+Have, as it were, a course at base[435] with her.
+
+BEL. Not so, not so, that's one of marriage's plagues
+Which I must seek to shun amongst the rest,
+And live in sweet contentment with my wife,
+That when I back again return to hell,
+All women may be bound to reverence me
+For saving of their credits, as I will.
+But who comes here?
+
+    _Enter_ CAPTAIN CLINTON.
+
+CLIN. This needs must tickle Musgrave to the quick,
+And stretch his heart-strings farther by an inch,
+That Lacy must be married to his love:
+And by that match my market is near marr'd
+For Mariana, whom I most affect;
+But I must cast about by some device
+To help myself, and to prevent the earl.
+
+BEL. This fellow fitly comes to meet with me,
+Who seems to be acquainted with the earl.    [_Aside_.
+Good fortune guide you, sir!
+
+CLIN. As much to you.
+
+BEL. Might I entreat a favour at your hands?
+
+CLIN. What's that?
+
+BEL. I am a stranger here in England, sir,
+Brought from my native home upon report,
+That the earl's daughter wants the use of speech;
+I have been practised in such cures ere now,
+And willingly would try my skill on her.
+Let me request you so to favour me,
+As to direct me to her father's house.
+
+CLIN. With all my heart, and welcome shall you be
+To that good earl, who mourns his daughter's want:
+But they have for a holy abbot sent,
+Who can, men say, do many miracles,
+In hope that he will work this wondrous cure.
+
+BEL. Whate'er he be, I know 'tis past his skill;
+Nor any in the world, besides myself,
+Did ever sound the depth of that device.
+
+    _Enter_ MUSGRAVE.
+
+CLIN. Musgrave, well met: I needs must speak with you.
+
+MUS. I came to seek you.
+
+CLIN. Tarry you a while.
+[_To_ BEL.] Shall I entreat you, sir, to walk before
+With this same gentleman? I'll overtake you.
+                 [_Exeunt_ BELPHEGOR _and_ AKERCOCK.
+This is the news: the Earl of Kent is come,
+And in all haste the marriage must be made.
+Your lady weeps, and knows not what to do;
+But hopes that you will work some means or other
+To stop the cross-proceedings of the earl.
+
+MUS. Alas, poor Clinton! what can Musgrave do?
+Unless I should by stealth convey her thence,
+On which a thousand dangers do depend.
+
+CLIN. Well, to be brief, because I cannot stay,
+Thus stands the case: if you will promise me
+To work your cousin Marian to be mine,
+I'll so devise that you shall purchase[436] her;
+And therefore, tell me if you like the match?
+
+MUS. With all my heart, sir; yea, and thank you, too.
+
+CLIN. Then say no more, but leave the rest to me,
+For I have plotted how it shall be done.
+I must go follow yon fair gentleman,
+On whom I build my hopes. Musgrave, adieu.
+
+MUS. Clinton, farewell; I'll wish thee good success.
+
+                                           [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT II., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ MORGAN, LACY, DUNSTAN, FORREST, HONOREA, MARIAN.
+
+MOR. Thou holy man, to whom the higher powers
+Have given the gift of cures beyond conceit,
+Welcome thou art unto Earl Morgan's house:
+The house of sorrow yet, unless by thee
+Our joys may spring anew; which if they do,
+Reward and praise shall both attend on thee.
+
+LACY. And we will ever reverence thy name,
+Making the chronicles to speak thy praise:
+So Honorea may but have her speech.
+
+DUN. My lords, you know the hallow'd gift of tongues
+Comes from the selfsame power that gives us breath:
+He binds and looseth them at his dispose;
+And in his name will Dunstan undertake
+To work this cure upon fair Honorea.
+Hang there, my harp, my solitary muse,
+Companion of my contemplation.
+          [_He hangs his harp on the wall_.
+And, lady, kneel with me upon the earth,
+That both our prayers may ascend to heaven.
+
+    [_They kneel down. Then enters_ CLINTON, _with_
+    BELPHEGOR, _terming himself_ CASTILIANO, _and_
+    AKERCOCK, _as_ ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
+
+CLIN. So shall you do the lady a good turn,
+And bind both him and me to you for ever.    [_Aside_.]
+
+BEL. I have determin'd what I mean to do.    [_Aside_.]
+
+CLIN. Here be the earls, and with them is the friar.    [_Aside_.]
+
+BEL. What, is he praying?    [_Aside_.]
+
+CLIN. So methinks he is;
+But I'll disturb him. [_Aside_.] By your leave, my lords,
+Here is a stranger from beyond the seas
+Will undertake to cure your lordship's daughter.
+
+MOR. The holy abbot is about the cure.
+
+BEL. Yea, but, my lord, he'll never finish it.
+
+MOR. How canst thou tell? What countryman art thou?
+
+BEL. I am by birth, my lord, a Spaniard born,
+And by descent came of a noble house;
+Though, for the love I bare[437] to secret arts,
+I never car'd to seek for vain estate,
+Yet by my skill I have increas'd my wealth.
+My name Castiliano, and my birth
+No baser than the best blood of Castile.
+Hearing your daughter's strange infirmity,
+Join'd with such matchless beauty and rare virtue,
+I cross'd the seas on purpose for her good.
+
+DUN. Fond man, presuming on thy weaker skill,
+That think'st by art to overrule the heavens!
+Thou know'st not what it is thou undertak'st.
+No, no, my lord, your daughter must be cur'd
+By fasting, prayer, and religious works;
+Myself for her will sing a solemn mass,
+And give her three sips of the holy chalice;
+And turn my beads with aves and with creeds:
+And thus, my lord, your daughter must be help'd.
+
+CAS. 'Zounds, what a prating keeps the bald-pate friar!
+My lord, my lord, here's church-work for an age?
+Tush! I will cure her in a minute's space,
+That she shall speak as plain as you or I.
+
+                   [DUNSTAN' _harp sounds on the wall_.
+
+FOR. Hark, hark, my lord! the holy abbot's harp
+Sounds by itself so hanging on the wall!
+
+DUN. Unhallowed man, that scorn'st the sacred rede,[438]
+Hark how the testimony of my truth
+Sounds heavenly music with an angel's hand,
+To testify Dunstan's integrity,
+And prove thy active boast of no effect.
+
+CAS. Tush, sir, that music was to welcome me!
+The harp hath got another master now;
+I warrant you, 'twill never tune you more.
+
+DUN. Who should be master of my harp but I?
+
+CAS. Try, then, what service it will do for you.
+
+                 [_He tries to play, but cannot_.
+
+DUN. Thou art some sorcerer or necromancer,
+Who by thy spells dost hold these holy strings.
+
+CAS. Cannot your holiness unbind the bonds?
+Then, I perceive, my skill is most of force.
+You see, my lord, the abbot is but weak;
+I am the man must do your daughter good.
+
+MOR. What wilt thou ask for to work thy cure?
+
+CAS. That without which I will not do the cure:
+Herself to be my wife, for which intent
+I came from Spain. Then, if she shall be mine,
+Say so, or keep her else for ever dumb.
+
+MOR. The Earl of Kent, mine honourable friend,
+Hath to my daughter been a suitor long,
+And much it would displease both her and him
+To be prevented of their wished love.
+Ask what thou wilt beside, and I will grant it.
+
+CAS. Alas, my lord! what should the crazy earl
+Do with so young a virgin as your daughter?
+I dare stand to her choice 'twixt him and me.
+
+LACY. And I will pawn mine earldom with my love,
+And lose them both, if I lose Honorea.
+
+CAS. A match, my lords! We'll stand unto the choice.
+
+MOR. I am contented, if the earl be pleased.
+
+LACY. I were not worthy of her, did I doubt.
+
+CAS. Then there it goes. Fetch me a bowl of wine:
+This is the match, my lord, before I work--
+If she refuse the earl, she must be mine.
+
+MOR. It is.
+
+    [_One brings him a cup of wine: he strains the
+    juice of the herb into it_.
+
+CAS. Now shall your lordships see a Spaniard's skill,
+Who from the plains of new America[439]
+Can find out sacred simples of esteem
+To bind and unbind nature's strongest powers.
+This herb, which mortal men have seldom found,
+Can I with ease procure me, when I list,
+And by this juice shall Honorea speak.
+Here, lady, drink the freedom of thy heart,
+And may it teach thee long to call me love!
+                              [_She drinks_.
+Now, lovely Honorea, thou art free,
+Let thy celestial voice make choice of me.
+
+HON. Base alien! mercenary fugitive!
+Presumptuous Spaniard! that with shameless pride
+Dar'st ask an English lady for thy wife,
+I scorn my slave should honour thee so much:
+And, for myself, I like myself the worse,
+That thou dar'st hope the gaining of my love.
+Go, get thee gone, the shame of my esteem,
+And seek some drudge that may be like thyself!
+But as for you, good Earl of Kent,
+Methinks your lordship, being of these years,
+Should be past dreaming of a second wife.
+Fie, fie, my lord! 'tis lust in doting age:
+I will not patronise so foul a sin.
+An old man dote on youth? 'tis monstrous.
+Go home, go home, and rest your weary head!
+'Twere pity such a brow should learn to bud.
+And lastly unto you, my lord and father,
+Your love to me is too much overseen,
+That in your care and counsel should devise
+To tie your daughter's choice to two such grooms.
+You may elect for me, but I'll dispose,
+And fit myself far better than both those;
+And so I will conclude; you[r], as you please.
+                  [_Exit_ HONOREA _in a chafe_.
+
+AKER. Call you this making of a woman speak?
+I think they all wish she were dumb again.
+
+CAS. How now, my lord? what, are you in a muse?
+
+LACY. I would to God her tongue were tied again.
+
+CAS. Ay, marry, sir, but that's another thing,
+The devil cannot tie a woman's tongue:[440]
+I would the friar could do that with his beads.
+But 'tis no matter: you, my lord, have promis'd,
+If she refuse the earl, she should be mine.
+
+MOR. Win her, and wear her, man, with all my heart!
+
+CAS. O, I'll haunt her till I make her stoop.
+Come, come, my lord, this was to try her voice;
+Let's in and court her; one of us shall speed.
+
+AKER. Happy man[441] be his dole that misseth her, say I.
+
+DUN. My weaker senses cannot apprehend
+The means this stranger us'd to make her speak:
+There is some secret mystery therein,
+Conceal'd from Dunstan, which the heavens reveal,
+That I may scourge this bold, blaspheming man,
+Who holds religious works of little worth!
+
+         [_Exeunt; manent_ CLINTON _and_ FORREST.
+
+FOR. Now, Captain Clinton, what think you of me?
+
+CLIN. Methinks as yet the jest holds pretty well.
+The one hath taught her to deny himself:
+The other woo'd so long, he cannot speed.
+
+FOR. This news will please young Musgrave.
+
+CLIN. Marry will it,
+And I will hasten to acquaint him with them:
+Come, let's away.
+
+                                  [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Enter_ PARSON SHORTHOSE _and_ GRIM _the Collier_.
+
+GRIM. No, Master Parson, grief hath made my heart and me a pair of
+balance, as heavy as lead. Every night I dream I am a town top, and that
+I am whipped up and down with the scourge-stick of love and the metal of
+affection; and when I wake,[442] I find myself stark naked, and as cold
+as a stone. Now judge how I am tumbled and tossed; poor Grim the collier
+hath wished himself burnt up amongst his coals.
+
+SHO. O Grim! be wise, dream not of love,
+Thy sorrows cannot fancy move:
+If Jug love thee, love her again;
+If not, thy kindness then refrain.
+
+GRIM. I am not skilled in your rhyming. Master Parson; but that which is
+bred in the flesh will never come out of the bone. I have seen as much
+as another man; my travel should teach me. There's never a day in the
+week but I carry coals from Croydon to London; and now, when I rise in
+the morning to harness my horses, and load my cart, methinks I have a
+tailor sewing stitches in my heart: when I am driving my cart, my heart
+that wanders one way, my eyes they leer another, my feet they lead me, I
+know not whither, but now and then into a slough over head and ears; so
+that poor Grim, that before was over shoes in love, is now over head and
+ears in dirt and mire.
+
+SHO. Well, Grim, my counsel shall suffice
+To help thee; but in any wise
+Be rul'd by me, and thou shalt see,
+As thou lov'st her, she shall love thee.
+
+GRIM. A lard![443] but do you think that will be so? I should laugh till
+I tickle to see that day, and forswear sleep all the next night after. O
+Master Parson, I am so haltered in affection, that I may tell you in
+secret, [since] here's nobody else hears me, I take no care how I fill my
+sacks. Every time I come to London, my coals are found faulty; I have
+been five times pilloried, my coals given to the poor, and my sacks burnt
+before my face. It were a shame to speak this, but truth will come to
+light. O Joan! thou hast thrown the coal-dust of thy love into my eyes,
+and stricken me quite blind.
+
+SHO. Now, afore God, the collier chooseth well;
+For beauty Jug doth bear away the bell,
+And I love her: then, collier, thou must miss,
+For Parson Shorthose vows, Jug shall be his.    [_Aside_.]
+But hear'st thou, Grim, I have that in my head,
+To plot that how thou shalt the maiden wed.
+
+GRIM. But are you sure you have that in your head? O, for a hammer to
+knock that out! one blow at your pate would lay all open to me, and make
+me as wise as you.
+
+SHO. Think'st thou I do so often look
+For nothing on my learned book,
+As that I cannot work the feat?
+I warrant I'll the miller cheat,
+And make Jug thine, in spite of him.
+Will this content thee, neighbour Grim?
+
+GRIM. Content me! ay, and so highly, that if you do this feat for me,
+you hire me to you as one hireth an ox or an ass: to use, to ride, to
+spur, or anything; yours to demand, miserable Grim! Joan's handmaid!
+for so I have called myself ever since last May-day, when she gave me
+her hand to kiss.
+
+SHO. Well, let's away; and in all haste
+About it, ere the day be pass'd;
+And ever after, if thou hast her,
+Acknowledge me to be thy master.
+
+GRIM. I wool, sir: come, let's away, the best drink in Croydon's yours;
+I have it for you, even a dozen of jugs, to Jug's health.
+
+                                           [_Exeunt both_.
+
+    _Enter_ EARL MORGAN, EARL LACY, MARIAN.
+
+MOR. My Lord of Kent, the latter motion
+Doth bind me to you in a higher degree
+Than all those many favours gone before:
+And now the issue of my help relies
+Only on Mariana's gentleness,
+Who, if she will, in such a common good,
+Put to her helping-hand, the match is made.
+
+LACY. You need not make a doubt of Marian,
+Whose love unto her lady were enough,
+Besides her cousin's and her own consent,
+To move her to a greater thing than this.
+
+MAR. My lords, if aught there be in Marian,
+That may or pleasure you or profit her,
+Ye shall not need to doubt of my consent.
+
+MOR. Gramercy, Marian; and indeed the thing
+Is in itself a matter of no moment,
+If it be weigh'd aright, and therefore this:
+Thou know'st the bargain 'twixt me and the doctor,
+Concerning marriage with my only daughter,
+Whom I determined that my Lord of Kent
+Should have espoused: but I see her mind
+Is only set upon thy cousin Musgrave,
+And in her marriage to use constraint
+Were bootless; therefore thus we have devised.
+Lord Lacy is content to lose his part,
+And to resign his title to young Musgrave;
+But now the doctor will not yield his right.
+Thus we determine to beguile his hopes:
+Thou shalt this night be brought unto his bed
+Instead of her, and he shall marry thee:
+Musgrave shall have my daughter, she her will;
+And so shall all things sort[444] to our content.
+
+LACY. And this thou shalt be sure of, Marian,
+The doctor's wealth will keep thee royally:
+Besides, thou shalt be ever near thy friends,
+That will not see thee wrong'd by any man.
+Say then, wilt thou resolve to marry him?
+
+MAR. My lords, you know I am but young:
+The doctor's fit for one of riper years:
+Yet, in regard of Honorea's good,
+My cousin's profit, and all your contents,
+I yield myself to be the doctor's wife.
+
+MOR. 'Tis kindly spoken, gentle Marian.
+
+    _Enter_ CASTILIANO.
+
+But here the doctor comes.
+
+LACY. Then I'll away,
+Lest he suspect aught by my being here.    [_Exit_.
+
+MOR. Do, and let me alone to close with him.
+
+CAS. May he ne'er speak that makes a woman speak!
+She talks now sure for all the time that's pass'd:
+Her tongue is like a scarecrow in a tree,
+That clatters still with every puff of wind.
+I have so haunted her from place to place:
+About the hall, from thence into the parlour,
+Up to the chamber, down into the garden,
+And still she rails, and chafes, and scolds,
+As if it were the sessions-day in hell.
+Yet will I haunt her with an open mouth,
+And never leave her till I force her love me.
+
+MOR. Now, master doctor; what, a match or no?
+
+CAS. A match, quoth you? I think the devil himself
+Cannot match her; for, if he could, I should.    [_Aside_.]
+
+MOR. Well, be content: 'tis I must work the mean
+To make her yield, whether she will or no.
+My Lord of Kent is gone hence in a chafe,
+And now I purpose that she shall be yours,
+Yet to herself unknown; for she shall think
+That Musgrave is the man, but it shall be you:
+Seem you still discontented, and no more.
+Go, Mariana, call thy mistress hither.
+Now, when she comes, dissemble what you know,
+And go away, as if you car'd not for her;
+So will she the sooner be brought into it.
+
+                                [_Exit_ MARIAN.
+
+CAS. My lord, I thank you for your honest care,
+And, as I may, will study to requite it.
+
+    _Enter_ HONOREA _and_ MARIAN.
+
+But here your daughter comes. No, no, my lord,
+'Tis not her[445] favour I regard, nor her;
+Your promise 'tis I challenge, which I'll have:
+It was my bargain, no man else should have her.
+Not that I love her, but I'll not be wrong'd
+By any one, my lord; and so I leave you.
+                             [_Exit_ CASTILIANO.
+
+MOR. He's passing cunning to deceive himself:
+But all the better for the after-sport.
+
+HON. Sir, did you send for me?
+
+MOR. Honorea, for thee;
+And this it is. Howe'er unworthily
+I have bestowed my love so long upon thee,
+That wilt so manifestly contradict me,
+Yet, that thou may'st perceive how I esteem thee,
+I make thyself the guardian of thy love,
+That thine own fancy may make choice for thee.
+I have persuaded with my Lord of Kent
+To leave to love thee: now the peevish doctor
+Swears that his int'rest he will ne'er resign;
+Therefore we must by policy deceive him.
+He shall suppose he lieth this night with thee,
+But Mariana shall supply thy room;
+And thou with Musgrave in another chamber
+Shall secretly be lodg'd. When this is done,
+'Twill be too late to call that back again:
+So shalt thou have thy mind, and he a wife.
+
+HON. But wilt thou, Mariana, yield to this?
+
+MAR. For your sake, lady, I will undertake it.
+
+HON. Gramercy, Marian, and my noble father;
+Now I acknowledge that indeed you love me.
+
+MOR. Well, no more words, but be you both prepar'd:
+The night draweth on, and I have sent in secret
+For Musgrave, that he may be brought unseen,
+To hide suspicion from their jealous eyes.
+
+HON. I warrant you. Come, Marian, let us go.
+
+               [_Exeunt_ HONOREA _and_ MARIAN.
+
+MOR. And then my Lord of Kent shall be my son.
+Should I go wed my daughter to a boy?
+No, no; young girls must have their will restrain'd;
+For if the rule be theirs, all runs to nought.
+                                             [_Exit_.
+
+    _Enter_ CLACK _the Miller, with_ JOAN.
+
+CLACK. Be not Jug, as a man would say, finer than fivepence, or more
+proud than a peacock; that is, to seem to scorn to call in at Clack's
+mill as you pass over the bridge. There be as good wenches as you be
+glad to pay me toll.
+
+JOAN. Like enough, Clack; I had as live[446] they
+as I, and a great deal rather too. You, that take
+toll of so many maids, shall never toll me after
+you. O God! what a dangerous thing it is but to
+peep once into love! I was never so haunted with
+my harvest-work as I am with love's passions.
+
+CLACK. Ay, but Joan, bear old proverbs in your memory; soft and fair;
+now, sir, if you make too much haste to fall foul, ay, and that upon a
+foul one too, there fades the flower of all Croydon. Tell me but this:
+is not Clack the miller as good a name as Grim the collier?
+
+JOAN. Alas! I know no difference in names
+To make a maid or choose or to refuse.
+
+CLACK. You were best to say, no, nor in men neither. Well, I'll be sworn
+I have; but I have no reason to tell you so much, that care so little
+for me [_aside_]: yet hark.
+                    [CLACK _speaketh in her ear_.
+
+    _Enter_ GRIM _and_ PARSON SHORTHOSE.
+
+GRIM. O Master Parson, there he stands like a scarecrow, to drive me
+away from her that sticks as close to my heart as my shirt to my back,
+or my hose to my heel. O Master Parson Shorthose, Grim is but a man as
+another man is: colliers have but lives, as other men have. All is gone
+if she go from me: Grim is nobody without her. My heart is in my mouth;
+my mouth is in my hand; my hand threatens vengeance against the miller,
+as it were a beadle with a whip in his hand, triumphing o'er a beggar's
+back!
+
+SHO. Be silent, Grim; stand close, and see;
+So shall we know how all things be.
+
+GRIM. In wisdom I am appeased; but in anger I broil, as it were a rasher
+upon the coals.
+
+JOAN. I'll not despise the trades ye either have;
+Yet Grim the collier may, if he be wise,
+Live even as merry as the day is long;
+For, in my judgment, in his mean estate
+Consists as much content as in more wealth.
+
+GRIM. O Master Parson, write down this sweet saying of her in Grim's
+commendations. She hath made my heart leap like a hobby-horse! O Joan,
+this speech of thine will I carry with me even to my grave.
+
+SHO. Be silent, then.
+
+CLACK. Well, then, I perceive you mean to lead your life in a coalpit,
+like one of the devil's drudges, and have your face look like the
+outward side of an old iron pot or a blacking-box.
+
+GRIM. He calleth my trade into question, I cannot forbear him.
+
+SHO. Nay, then you spoil all: neighbour Grim,
+I warrant you, she will answer him.
+
+JOAN. What I intend, I am not bound to show
+To thee, nor any other but my mother,
+To whom in duty I submit myself:
+Yet this I tell thee, though my birth be mean,
+My honest virtuous life shall help to mend it;
+And if I marry any in all this life,
+He shall say boldly he hath an honest wife.
+
+GRIM. O, that it were my fortune to light upon her, on condition my
+horses were dead, and my cart broken, and I bound to carry coals, as
+long as I live, from Croydon to London on my bare shoulders! Master
+Parson, the flesh is frail, he shall tempt her no longer. She is but
+weak, and he is the stronger. I'll upon him. Miller, thou art my
+neighbour, and therein charity holds my hands; but methinks you, having
+a water-gap of your own, you may do as other millers do, grind your
+grist at home, knock your cogs into your own mill; you shall not cog
+with her.
+
+    She doth descry thee;
+    And I defy thee
+    To a mortal fight;
+    And so, miller, good night.
+    And now, sweet Joan,
+    Be it openly known
+    Thou art my own.
+
+CLACK. Well, Grim, since thou art so collier-like choleric--
+
+GRIM. Miller, I will not be mealy-mouth'd.
+
+CLACK. I'll give thee the fewer words now, because the next time we
+meet, I'll pay thee all in dry blows. Carry coals[447] at a collier's
+hands! if I do, let my mill be drowned up in water, and I hanged in
+the roof.
+
+JOAN. And if thou lov'st me, Grim, forbear him now.
+
+GRIM. If I love thee! dost thou doubt of that? nay, rip me up, and look
+into my heart, and thou shalt see thy own face pictured there as plainly
+as in the proudest looking-glass in all Croydon. If I love thee! then,
+tears, gush out, and show my love.
+
+CLACK. What, Master Parson, are you there? You remember you promised to
+win Joan for my own wearing?
+
+SHO. I warrant thee, Clack, but now begone;
+Leave me to work that here alone.
+
+CLACK. Well, farewell, Master Shorthose; be true when you are trusted.
+                                                        [_Exit_ CLACK.
+
+SHO. She shall be neither his nor thine,
+For I intend to make her mine.
+
+GRIM. If I love thee, Joan! Those very words are a purgation to me.
+You shall see desperation in my face, and death marching in my very
+countenance. If I love!
+
+SHO. What, Grim, hath grief drown'd thee at last?
+Are all thy joys overcast?
+Is Joan in place, and thou so sad!
+Her presence, man, should make thee glad.
+
+JOAN. Good Master Parson, 'twas no fault of mine;
+He takes occasion, where there none was given.
+I will not blab unto the world, my love
+I owe to him, and shall do whilst I live.    [_Aside_]
+
+GRIM. Well, Joan, without all ifs or ands, e-persese, a-persese, or
+tittle-tattles in the world, I do love thee; and so much that, in thy
+absence I cry, when I see thee, and rejoice with my very heart, when
+I cannot behold thee.
+
+SHO. No doubt, no doubt, thou lov'st her well,
+But listen now to what I tell:
+Since ye are both so well agreed,
+I wish you make more haste and speed.
+To-morrow is Holy-rood day,
+When all a-nutting take their way;
+Within the wood a close doth stand,
+Encompass'd round on either hand
+With trees and bushes; there will I
+Despatch your marriage presently.
+
+GRIM. O Master Parson, your devising pate hath blessed me for ever.
+Joan, we'll have that so: the shorter the work the sweeter.
+
+JOAN. And if my mother give but her consent,
+My absence shall in no case hinder it.
+
+GRIM. She, quotha? she is mine already; we'll to her presently. Master
+Parson, 'tis a match; we'll meet you. Now, miller, do I go beyond you?
+I have stripped him of the wench, as a cook would strip an eel out of
+her skin, or a pudding out of the case thereof. Now I talk of a pudding,
+O, 'tis my only food, I am an old dog at it. Come, Joan, let us away,
+I'll pudding you.
+
+SHO. Well, if my fortune luckily ensue,
+As you shall cosen him, I'll cosen you.
+
+                              [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Enter_ CASTILIANO _at one door with_ MARIAN, EARL LACY
+    _at another door with_ HONOREA.
+
+CAS. Come, lovely Honorea, bright as day.
+As came Alcmena from her sacred bed
+With Jupiter, shap'd like Amphitrion,
+So show my love.
+
+HON. My love! whom have we here? Sweet
+Musgrave! but, alas, I am betrayed!
+
+CAS. Thou art my love.
+
+LACY. No, mine.
+
+HON. Nor yours, nor yours;
+But Musgrave's love. O Musgrave! where art thou?
+
+LACY. Be not displeas'd, my dear; give me thy hand.
+
+HON. My hand, false earl! nor hand nor heart of mine!
+Couldst thou thus cunningly deceive my hopes?
+And could my father give consent thereto?
+Well, neither he nor thou shalt force my love.
+
+CAS. 'Tis I, fair Honorea, am thy love:
+Forsake the worthless earl, give me thy hand.
+
+MAR. Whose hand would you have, sir? this hand is mine,
+And mine is yours: then keep you to your own:
+Yet are you mine, sir, and I mean to keep you.
+What! do you think to shake me off so soon?
+No, gentle husband, now 'tis too-too late;
+You should have look'd, before you came to bed.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN GOODFELLOW[448] _with his master's gown_.
+
+ROB. Many good-morrows to my gentle master
+And my new mistress; God give you both joy!
+What say you to your gown, sir, this cold morning?
+
+CAS. Robin, I am undone, and cast away!
+
+ROB. How, master, cast away upon a wife?
+
+CAS. Yea, Robin, cast away upon a wife.
+
+ROB. Cast her away then, master, can you not?
+
+MAR. No, sir, he cannot, nor he shall not do it.
+
+ROB. Why, how know you? I am sure you are not she.
+
+MAR. Yes, sir, I am your mistress, as it falls.
+
+ROB. As it falls, quoth ye? marry, a foul fall is it.
+
+MAR. Base rascal, dost thou say that I am foul?
+
+ROB. No, it was foul play for him to fall upon you.
+
+MAR. How know you that he fell? were you so nigh?
+
+               [_She giveth_ ROBIN _a box on the ear_.
+
+ROB. Mass, it should seem it was he that fell, if any,
+For you (methinks) are of a mounting nature:
+What, at my ears at first? a good beginning.
+
+LACY. My dear delight, why dost thou stain thy cheeks,
+Those rosy beds, with this unseemly dew?
+Shake off those tears, that now untimely fall,
+And smile on me, that am thy summer's joy.
+
+HON. Hapless am I to lose so sweet a prison,
+Thus to obtain a weary liberty.
+Happy had I been so to have remain'd,
+Of which estate I ne'er should have complain'd.
+
+ROB. Whoop, whoo! more marriages! and all of a sort. Happy are they,
+I see, that live without them: if this be the beginning, what will be
+the ending?
+
+    _Enter_ EARL MORGAN _and_ DUNSTAN.
+
+MOR. Look, Dunstan, where they be; displeas'd, no doubt,
+Try, if thou canst work reconciliation.
+
+CAS. My lord, I challenge you of breach of promise,
+And claim your daughter here to be my wife.
+
+LACY. Your claim is nought, sir; she is mine already.
+
+HON. Your claim is nought, sir; I am none of yours.
+
+MAR. Your claim is here, sir; Marian is yours.
+What, husband, newly married and inconstant!
+'Greed we so well together all this night,
+And must we now fall out? for shame, for shame!
+A man of your years, and be so unstay'd!
+Come, come away, there may no other be;
+I will have you, therefore you shall have me.
+
+ROB. This is the bravest country in the world,
+Where men get wives, whether they will or no:
+I trow ere long some wench will challenge me.
+
+CAS. O, is not this a goodly consequence?
+I must have her, because she will have me!
+
+DUN. Ladies and gentlemen, hear Dunstan speak.
+Marriage, no doubt, is ordain'd by providence;
+Is sacred, not to be by vain affect
+Turn'd to the idle humours of men's brains.
+Besides, for you, my lady Honorea,
+Your duty binds you to obey your father,
+Who better knows what fits you than yourself;
+And 'twere in you great folly to neglect
+The earl's great love, whereof you are unworthy,
+Should you but seem offended with the match.
+Therefore submit yourself to make amends,
+For 'tis your fault; so may you all be friends.
+
+MOR. And, daughter, you must think what I have done
+Was for your good, to wed you to the earl,
+Who will maintain and love you royally:
+For what had Musgrave but his idle shape?
+A shadow to the substance you must build on.
+
+ROB. She will build substance on him, I trow;
+Who keeps a shrew against her will, had better let her go.    [_Aside_.]
+
+MAR. Madam, conceal your grief, and seem content;
+For, as it is, you must be rul'd per force:
+Dissemble, till convenient time may serve
+To think on this despite and Musgrave's love.    [_Aside_.]
+
+LACY. Tell me, my dear, wilt thou at length be pleas'd?
+
+HON. As good be pleas'd, my lord, as not be eas'd;
+Yet though my former love did move me much,
+Think not amiss, the same love may be yours.
+
+CAS. What! is it a match? nay then, since you agree,
+I cannot mend myself, for aught I see;
+And therefore 'tis as good to be content.
+Come, lady, 'tis your lot to be my dame.
+Lordings, adieu; God send you all good speed!
+Some have their wives for pleasure, some for need.
+
+LACY. Adieu, Castiliano: are we friends?
+
+CAS. Yes, yes, my lord, there is no remedy.
+
+ROB. No remedy, my masters, for a wife?
+A note for young beginners: mark it well.
+
+                                [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Enter_ FORREST, CAPTAIN CLINTON, HARVEY.
+
+FOR. Now, gallants, what imagine you of this?
+Our noses are all slit; for Mariana,
+The Spanish doctor hath her to his wife,
+And Musgrave's hopes are dead for Honorea,
+For she is married to the Earl of Kent.
+'Twill be good sport to see them when they rise.
+If so they be not gotten up already.
+
+CLIN. I say the devil go with them all for me.
+The Spanish doctor marry Marian!
+I think that slave was born to cross me still.
+Had it not been last day before the earl,
+Upon my conscience, I had crack'd his crown,
+When first he ask'd the lady for his wife;
+Now he hath got her too, whom I desir'd.
+Why, he'll away with her ere long to Spain,
+And keep her there to dispossess our hopes.
+
+FOR. No, I can comfort you for that suppose:[449]
+For yesterday he hir'd a dwelling-house,
+And here he means to tarry all this year;
+So long at least, whate'er he doth hereafter.
+
+CLIN. A sudden plotform[450] comes into my mind,
+And this it is. Miles Forrest, thou and I
+Are partly well acquainted with the doctor.
+Ralph Harvey shall along with us to him;
+Him we'll prefer for his apothecary?
+Now, sir, when Ralph and he are once acquainted,
+His wife may often come unto his house,
+Either to see his garden, or such like:
+For, doubt not, women will have means enough,
+If they be willing, as I hope she will.
+There may we meet her, and let each one plead:
+He that speeds best, why let him carry it.
+
+FOR. I needs must laugh to think how all we three,
+In the contriving of this feat, agree:
+But, having got her, every man will strive
+How each may other of her love deprive.
+
+CLIN. Tut, Forrest! love admits these friendly strifes;
+But say, how like you of my late device?
+
+FOR. Surpassing well, but let's about it straight,
+Lest he before our coming be provided.
+
+CLIN. Agreed.
+
+                  [_Exeunt.
+
+    Enter_ MUSGRAVE _and_ MARIAN.
+
+MUS. Tush, cousin! tell not me; but this device
+Was long ago concluded 'twixt you two,
+Which divers reasons move me to imagine:
+And therefore these are toys to blind my eyes,
+To make me think she only loved me,
+And yet is married to another man.
+
+MAR. Why, cousin Musgrave, are your eyes so blind
+You cannot see the truth of that report?
+Did you not know my lord was always bent,
+Whatever came, to wed her to the earl?
+And have you not, besides, heard the device
+He us'd to marry her against her will?
+Betray'd, poor soul, unto Earl Lacy's bed,
+She thought she held young Musgrave in her arms!
+Her morning tears might testify her thoughts;
+Yet thou shalt see she loves thee more than him,
+And thou shalt taste the sweets of her delights.
+Meantime, my house shall be thy mansion
+And thy abode, for thither will she come:
+Use thou that opportunity, and try
+Whether she lov'd thee, or did but dissemble.
+
+MUS. If she continue kind to me hereafter,
+I shall imagine well of her and you.
+
+    _Enter_ CASTILIANO.
+
+CAS. Now, dame, in talk! what gentleman is this?
+
+MAR. My cousin Musgrave, husband, comes to see you.
+
+CAS. Musgrave, now, on my faith, heartily welcome.
+Give me thy hand, my cousin and my friend,
+My partner in the loss of Honorea;
+We two must needs be friends: our fortune's like:
+Marry, yet I am richer by a shrew.
+
+MAR. 'Tis better to be a shrew, sir, than a sheep;[451]
+You have no cause, I hope, yet to complain?
+
+CAS. No, dame; for yet you know 'tis honeymoon.
+What! we have scarcely settled our acquaintance.
+
+MUS. I doubt not, cousin, but ye shall agree,
+For she is mild enough, if she be pleas'd.
+
+CAS. So is the devil, they say[452] [_aside_]: yea, cousin, yea,
+My dear and I, I doubt not, shall agree.
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
+
+ROB. Sir, here be two or three gentlemen at the door
+Would gladly speak a word with your worship.
+
+    _Enter_ CLINTON, FORREST, HARVEY.
+
+[CAS.] They need no bidding, methinks: they can come alone!
+
+CLIN. God save you, Signior Castiliano.
+
+CAS. O captain, _come sta_?[453] welcome all, my friends!
+
+FOR. Sir, we are come to bid God give you joy,
+And see your house.
+
+MAR. Welcome, gentlemen:
+'Tis kindly done to come to see us here.
+
+ROB. This kindness makes me fear my master's head:
+Such hotspurs must have game, howe'er they get it.
+
+CLIN. We have a suit to you, Castiliano.
+
+CAS. What is it, sir? if it lies in me, 'tis done.
+
+CLIN. Nay, but a trifle, sir, and that is:
+This same young man, by trade apothecary,
+Is willing to retain unto your cures.
+
+CAS. Marry, with all my heart, and welcome too.
+What may I call your name, my honest friend?
+
+HAR. Ralph Harvey, sir; your neighbour here hard by.
+The Golden Lion is my dwelling-place,
+Where what you please shall be with care perform'd.
+
+CAS. Gramercies, Harvey! welcome, all my friends!
+Let's in, and handsel our new mansion-house
+With a carousing round of Spanish wine.
+Come, cousin Musgrave, you shall be my guest;
+My dame, I trow, will welcome you herself.
+
+MAR. No, boy, Lord Lacy's wife shall welcome thee.
+
+ROB. So now the game begins, here's some cheer toward;
+I must be skinker[454] then: let me alone;
+They all shall want, ere Robin shall have none.
+
+            [_Exeunt omnes nisi_ CLINTON _and_ HARVEY.
+
+CLIN. Sirrah Ralph Harvey, now the entry is made,
+Thou only hast access without suspect.[455]
+Be not forgetful of thy agent here;
+Remember Clinton was the man that did it.
+
+HAR. Why, captain, now you talk in jealousy.
+Do not misconstrue my true-meaning heart.
+
+CLIN. Ralph, I believe thee, and rely on thee.
+Do not too long absent thee from the doctor:
+Go in, carouse, and taint his Spanish brain;
+I'll follow, and my Marian's health maintain.
+
+HAR. Captain, you well advise me; I'll go in,
+And for myself my love-suits I'll begin.
+
+                                    [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT III., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN GOODFELLOW _with his head broken_.
+
+ROB. The devil himself take all such dames for me!
+'Zounds, I had rather be in hell than here.
+Nay, let him be his own man, if he list,
+Robin means not to stay to be us'd thus.
+The very first day, in her angry spleen,
+Her nimble hand began to greet my ears
+With such unkind salutes as I ne'er felt;
+And since that time there hath not pass'd an hour,
+Wherein she hath not either rail'd upon me,
+Or laid her anger's load upon my limbs.
+Even now (for no occasion in the world,
+But as it pleas'd her ladyship to take it)
+She gat me up a staff, and breaks my head.
+But I'll no longer serve so curs'd a dame;
+I'll run as far first as my legs will bear me.
+What shall I do? to hell I dare not go,
+Until my master's twelve months be expir'd,
+And here to stay with Mistress Marian--
+Better to be so long in purgatory.
+Now, farewell, master! but, shrewd dame, fare-ill!
+I'll leave you, though the devil is with you still.
+                                      [_Exit_ ROBIN.
+
+    _Enter_ MARIAN _alone, chafing_.
+
+MAR. My heart still pants within; I am so chaf'd!
+The rascal slave, my man, that sneaking rogue,
+Had like to have undone us all for ever!
+My cousin Musgrave is with Honorea,
+Set in an arbour in the summer-garden;
+And he, forsooth, must needs go in for herbs,
+And told me further, that his master bad him:
+But I laid hold upon my younker's pate,
+And made the blood run down about his ears.
+I trow, he shall ask me leave ere he go.
+Now is my cousin master of his love,
+The lady at one time reveng'd and pleas'd.
+So speed they all that marry maids perforce!
+
+    _Enter_ CASTILIANO.
+
+But here my husband comes.
+
+CAS. What, dame, alone?
+
+MAR. Yes, sir, this once--for want of company.
+
+CAS. Why, where's my lady and my cousin Musgrave?
+
+MAR. You may go look them both for aught I know.
+
+CAS. What, are you angry, dame?
+
+MAR. Yea, so it seems.
+
+CAS. What is the cause, I prythee?
+
+MAR. Why would you know?
+
+CAS. That I might ease it, if it lay in me.
+
+MAR. O, but it belongs not to your trade.
+
+CAS. You know not that.
+
+MAR. I know you love to prate, and so I leave you.
+                                    [_Exit_ MARIAN.
+
+CAS. Well, go thy way: oft have I raked hell
+To get a wife, yet never found her like.
+Why this it is to marry with a shrew.
+Yet if it be, as I presume it is,
+There's but one thing offends both her and me;
+And I am glad, if that be it offends her.
+'Tis so, no doubt; I read it in her brow.
+Lord Lacy shall with all my heart enjoy
+Fair Honorea: Marian is mine;
+Who, though she be a shrew, yet is she honest.
+So is not Honorea, for even now,
+Walking within my garden all alone,
+She came with Musgrave, stealing closely by,
+And follows him, that seeks to fly from her.
+I spied this all unseen, and left them there.
+But sure my dame hath some conceit thereof,
+And therefore she is thus angry, honest soul!
+Well, I'll straight hence unto my Lord of Kent,
+And warn him watch his wife from these close meetings.
+Well, Marian, thou liv'st yet free from blame.
+Let ladies go; thou art the devil's dame.
+                                    [_Exit_ CASTILIANO.
+
+    _Enter the_ DEVIL, _like_ MUSGRAVE, _with_ HONOREA.
+
+MUS. No, lady; let thy modest, virtuous life
+Be always joined with thy comely shape,
+For lust eclipseth nature's ornament.
+
+HON. Young heady boy, think'st thou thou shalt recall
+Thy long-made love, which thou so oft hast sworn,
+Making my maiden thoughts to doat on thee?
+
+MUS. With patience hear me, and, if what I say
+Shall jump with reason,[456] then you'll pardon me.
+The time hath been when my soul's liberty
+Vow'd servitude unto that heavenly face,
+Whilst both had equal liberty of choice;
+But since the holy bond of marriage
+Hath left me single, you a wedded wife,
+Let me not be the third unlawfully
+To do Earl Lacy so foul injury.
+But now at last--
+
+HON. I would that last
+Might be thy last, thou monster of all men!
+
+MUS. Hear me with patience.
+
+HON. Cease: I'll hear no more!
+'Tis my affection, and not reason, speaks:
+Then, Musgrave, turn the hardness of thy heart,
+And now at least incline thy love to mine.
+
+MUS. Nay, now I see thou wilt not be reclaim'd.
+Go and bestow this hot love on the earl;
+Let not these loose affects thus scandalise
+Your fair report. Go home, and learn to live
+As chaste as Lucrece, madam. So I leave you.
+
+                        [_She pulleth him back_.
+
+HON. O, stay a little while, and hear my tongue
+Speak my heart's words, which cannot choose but tell thee,
+I hate the earl, only because I love thee.    [_Exit_ MUSGRAVE.
+Musgrave, return! hear, Honorea speaks!
+Disdain hath left him wings to fly from me!
+Sweet love, lend me thy wings to overtake him,
+For I can stay him with kind dalliance!
+All this is but the blindness of my fancy.
+Recall thyself: let not thy honour bleed
+With the foul wounds of infamy and shame.
+My proper home shall call me home again,
+Where my dear lord bewails, as much as I,
+His too much love to her that loves not him.
+Let none hereafter fix her maiden love
+Too firm on any, lest she feel with me
+Musgrave's revolt and his inconstancy.
+                                    [_Exit_.
+
+    _Enter_ FORREST, _with_ MARIAN.
+
+FOR. Tut, I'll remember thee, and straight return:
+But here's the doctor.
+
+MAR. Where? Forrest, farewell!
+I would not have him see me for a world.
+
+FOR. Why? he is not here. Well, now I see you fear him.
+
+MAR. Marry, beshrew thee for thy false alarm!
+I fear him? no, I neither fear nor love him.
+
+FOR. But where's my lady? She is gone home before,
+And I must follow after. Marian, farewell.
+
+MAR. I shall expect your coming.
+
+FOR. Presently;
+And nearest thou, Marian? nay, it shall be so--
+
+                      [_He whispers in her ear_.
+
+MAR. O Lord, sir, you are wed, I warrant you:
+We'll laugh, be merry, and, it may be, kiss;
+But if you look for more, you aim amiss.
+
+FOR. Go to, go to! we'll talk of this anon.
+
+                                 [_Exit_ FORREST.
+
+MAR. Well, go thy way, for the true-heartedst man
+That liveth, and as full of honesty,
+And yet as wanton as a pretty lamb.
+He'll come again, for he hath lov'd me long,
+And so have many more besides himself;
+But I was coy and proud, as maids are wont,
+Meaning to match beyond my mean estate:
+Yet I have favour'd youths and youthful sports,
+Although I durst not venture on the main;
+But now it will not be so soon espied.
+Maids cannot, but a wife a fault may hide.
+
+    _Enter_ NAN.
+
+What, Nan!
+
+NAN. Anon, forsooth.
+
+MAR. Come hither, maid.
+Here, take my keys, and fetch the galley-pot;
+Bring a fair napkin and some fruit-dishes.
+Despatch, and make all ready presently;
+Miles Forrest will come straight to drink with me.
+
+NAN. I will, forsooth.    [_Exit_ NAN.
+
+MAR. Why am I young, but to enjoy my years?
+Why am I fair, but that I should be lov'd?
+And why should I be lov'd, and not love others?
+Tut, she is a fool that her affection smothers:
+'Twas not for love I was the doctor's wife,
+Nor did he love me, when he first was mine.
+Tush, tush, this _wife_ is but an idle name!
+I purpose now to try another game.
+Art thou return'd so soon? O, 'tis well done.
+
+    _Enter_ NAN _with the banquet_.
+
+And hear'st thou, Nan? when Forrest shall return,
+If any happen to inquire for me,
+Whether't be Captain Clinton or Ralph Harvey,
+Call presently, and say, thy master's come;
+So I'll send Forrest o'er the garden pale.
+
+NAN. I will, forsooth.
+
+MAR. Meantime, stay thou and make our banquet ready.
+I'll to my closet, and be here again,
+Before Miles Forrest shall come visit me.
+                                     [_Exit_ MARIAN.
+
+NAN. I wonder what my mistress is about?
+Somewhat she would not have my master know:
+Whate'er it be, 'tis nothing unto me;
+She's my good mistress, and I'll keep her counsel.
+I have oft seen her kiss behind his back,
+And laugh and toy, when he did little think it.
+O, what a winking eye the wanton hath
+To cosen him, even when he looks upon her!
+But what have I to do with what she doth?
+I'll taste her junkets since I am alone:
+That which is good for them cannot hurt me.
+Ay, marry, this is sweet! a cup of wine
+Will not be hurtful for digestion.
+                            [_She drinks_.]
+
+    _Enter_ CASTILIANO.
+
+CAS. I would I had been wiser once to-day;
+I went on purpose to my Lord of Kent
+To give him some good counsel for his wife,
+And he, poor heart, no sooner heard my news,
+But turns me up his whites, and falls flat down:
+There I was fain to rub and chafe his veins,
+And much ado we had to get him live.
+But for all that he is extremely sick,
+And I am come in all the haste I may
+For cordials to keep the earl alive.
+But how now? What, a banquet! What means this?
+
+NAN. Alas! my master is come home himself.
+Mistress, mistress! my master is come home!
+
+CAS. Peace, you young strumpet, or I'll stop your speech!
+                                    [_He stops her mouth_.
+Come hither, maid: tell me, and tell me true,
+What means this banquet? what's your mistress doing?
+Why call'dst[457] thou out, when as thou saw'st me coming?
+Tell me, or else I'll hang thee by the heels,
+And whip thee naked. Come on, what's the matter?
+
+NAN. Forsooth, I cannot tell.
+
+CAS. Can you not tell? come on, I'll make you tell me.
+
+NAN. O master! I will tell you.
+
+CAS. Then say on.
+
+NAN. Nothing, in truth, forsooth, but that she means
+To have a gentleman come drink with her.
+
+CAS. What gentleman?
+
+NAN. Forsooth, 'tis Master Forrest, as I think.
+
+CAS. Forrest? nay then I know how the game goeth:
+Whoever loseth, I am sure to win
+By their great kindness, though't be but the horns.
+
+    _Enter_ FORREST _at one door_, MARIAN _at another_.
+
+But here comes he and she. Come hither, maid:
+Upon thy life, give not a word, a look,
+That she may know aught of my being here.
+Stand still, and do whate'er she bids thee do.
+Go, get thee gone; but if thou dost betray me,
+I'll cut thy throat: look to it, for I will do it.
+I'll stand here close to see the end of this,
+And see what rakes she keeps, when I'm abroad.
+                  [CASTILIANO _conceals himself_.]
+
+MAR. 'Tis kindly done, Miles, to return so soon,
+And so I take it. Nan, is our banquet ready?
+Welcome, my love! I see you'll keep your word.
+
+NAN. 'Twere better for you both he had not kept it.    [_Aside_.]
+
+FOR. Yea, Mariana, else I were unworthy.
+I did but bring my lady to the door,
+And there I left her full of melancholy,
+And discontented.
+
+MAR. Why, 'twas kindly done.
+Come, come sit down, and let us laugh awhile:
+Maid, fill some wine.
+
+NAN. Alas! my breech makes buttons,
+And so would theirs, knew they as much as I.
+He may change the sweetmeats, and put
+Purging comfits in the dishes.
+
+MAR. Here's to my lady and my cousin Musgrave.
+
+FOR. I pray, remember gentle master doctor
+And good Earl Lacy too, among the rest.
+
+CAS. O sir, we find you kind--we thank you for it:
+The time may come when we may cry you quit.    [_Aside_.]
+
+NAN. Master, shall I steal you a cup of wine?    [_Aside_
+
+CAS. Away, you baggage! hold your peace, you wretch!    [_Aside_.]
+
+FOR. But I had rather walk into your orchard,
+And see your gallery so much commended;
+To view the workmanship he brought from Spain.
+Wherein's describ'd the banquet of the gods.
+
+MAR. Ay, there's one piece exceeding lively done;[458]
+Where Mars and Venus lie within a net,
+Enclos'd by Vulcan, and he looking on.
+
+CAS. Better and better yet: 'twill mend anon.
+
+MAR. Another of Diana with her nymphs,
+Bathing their naked bodies in the streams;
+Where fond Acteon, for his eyes' offence,
+Is turn'd into a hart's shape, horns and all:
+And this the doctor hangs right o'er his bed.
+
+FOR. Those horns may fall and light upon his head.
+
+CAS. And if they do, worse luck. What remedy?    [_Aside_.]
+
+FOR. Nay, Marian, we'll not leave these sights unseen;
+And then we'll see your orchard and your fruit,
+For now there hang queen apples on the trees,
+And one of them is[459] worth a score of these.
+
+MAR. Well, you shall see them, lest you lose your longing.
+                           [_Exeunt_ MARIAN _and_ FORREST.
+
+CAS. Nay, if ye fall a longing for green fruit,
+Child-bearing is not far off, I am sure.
+Why, this is excellent: I feel the buds!
+My head groweth hard: my horns will shortly spring!
+Now, who may lead the cuckold's dance but I,
+That am become the headman of the parish?
+O, this it is to have an honest wife,
+Of whom so much I boasted once to-day.
+Come hither, minx! you know your mistress' mind,
+And you keep secret all her villanies:
+Tell me, you were best, where was this plot devised?
+How did these villains know I was abroad?
+
+NAN. Indeed, forsooth, I know[460] not when it was.
+My mistress call'd me from my work of late,
+And bad me lay a napkin: so I did,
+And made this banquet ready; but in truth
+I knew not what she did intend to do.
+
+CAS. No, no, you did not watch against I came,
+To give her warning to despatch her knaves!
+You cried not out when as you saw me come!
+All this is nothing; but I'll trounce you all.
+
+NAN. In truth, good master!
+
+    _Enter_ MARIAN, FORREST.
+
+CAS. Peace, stay! they come.
+Whimper not; and you do, I'll use you worse.
+Behold that wicked strumpet with that knave!
+O, that I had a pistol for their sakes,
+That at one shot I might despatch them both!
+But I must stand close yet, and see the rest.
+                       [_He conceals himself again_.]
+
+MAR. How lik'st thou, Miles, my orchard and my house?
+
+FOR. Well; thou art seated to thy heart's content,
+A pleasant orchard and a house well-furnish'd:
+There nothing wants; but in the gallery
+The painter shows his art exceedingly.
+
+MAR. Yet is there one thing goeth beyond all these:
+Contented life, that giveth the heart his ease,
+And that I want.    [_One knocketh at the door_.
+
+FOR. Sweet love, adieu.    [_Exit_ FORREST.
+
+MAR. Farewell, sweetheart. Who is that at the door?
+
+    _Enter_ CLINTON.
+
+CLIN. A friend.
+
+MAR. Come near: what, captain, is it you?
+
+CLIN. Even I, fair Marian, watching carefully
+The blessed step of opportunity.
+
+MAR. Good, good! how fortune gluts me with excess!
+Still they that have enough shall meet with more.
+
+CLIN. But where's the doctor?
+
+MAR. Ministering abroad
+Physic to some sick patients he retains.
+
+CLIN. Let him abroad, I'll minister at home
+Such physic shall content my Marian.
+
+CAS. O monstrous! now the world must see my shame.
+This head must bear whatever likes[461] my dame.    [_Aside_.]
+
+MAR. I have no malady requires a cure.
+
+CLIN. Why, then, must I assume a sick man's part
+And all my sickness lieth at my heart?
+'Tis the heart-burning that torments me so.
+
+MAR. There is no cure for fire but to be quench'd.
+
+CLIN. Thou hast prescrib'd a sovereign remedy.
+
+CAS. O, who the devil made her a physician?    [_Aside_.]
+
+CLIN. Let's not obscure what love doth manifest;
+Nor let a stranger's bed make thee seem strange
+To him that ever lov'd and honour'd thee.
+
+MAR. A captain made a captive by loose love
+And gadding fancy! fie, 'twere monstrous shame
+That Cupid's bow should blemish Mars's name:
+Take up thy arms, recall thy drooping thoughts,
+And lead thy troops into the spacious fields.
+
+CAS. She counsels others well, if she would take it.    [_Aside_.]
+
+CLIN. Thou counsellest the blind to lead the blind.
+Can I lead them that cannot guide myself?
+Thou, Marian, must release my captive heart.
+
+MAR. With all my heart I grant thee free release.
+
+CLIN. Thou art obscure too much: but tell me, love,
+Shall I obtain my long-desired love?
+
+MAR. Captain, there is yet somewhat in thy mind
+Thou wouldst reveal, but wantest utterance.
+Thou better knowest to front the braving foe,
+Than plead love-suits.
+
+CLIN. I grant 'tis even so;
+Extremity of passions still are dumb,
+No tongue can tell love's chief perfections:
+Persuade thyself my love-sick thoughts are thine;
+Thou only may'st those drooping thoughts refine.
+
+MAR. Since at my hands thou seek'st a remedy,
+I'll ease thy grief, and cure thy malady.
+No drug the doctor hath shall be too dear;
+His antidote shall fly to do thee good.
+Come in, and let thy eye make choice for thee,
+That thou may'st know how dear thou art to me.
+                         [_Exeunt_ CLINTON, MARIAN.
+
+CAS. Is this obedience? now the devil go with them!
+And yet I dare not; O, she's mankind grown![462]
+O miserable men that must live so,
+And damned strumpet,[463] author of this woe!
+
+    _Enter_ CLINTON, MARIAN.
+
+But peace! be still! they come. O shameless shame!
+Well may the world call thee the devil's dame.
+
+MAR. Captain, thy skill hath pleased me so well,
+That I have vow'd my service to Bellona.
+
+CAS. Her service to Bellona! turn'd stark ruffian!
+She'll be call'd Cavaliero Marian.    [_Aside_.]
+
+CLIN. And I will train thee up in feats of arms,
+And teach thee all the orders of the field;
+That whilst we, like to Mars and Venus, jest,
+The doctor's head may get a gallant crest.
+
+CAS. I can no longer linger my disgrace,
+Nor hide my shame from their detested sight.
+How now, thou whore, dishonour to my bed!
+Disdain to womanhood, shame of thy sex!
+Insatiate monster! corrosive of my soul!
+What makes this captain revelling in my house?
+My house! nay, in my bed! You'll prove a soldier!
+Follow Bellona, turn a martialist!
+I'll try if thou hast learn'd to ward my blows.
+
+MAR. Why, how now, man! is this your madding month?
+What, sir! will you forbid me in good sort
+To entertain my friends?
+
+CAS. Your friends, you whore!
+They are no friends of mine, nor come they here.
+Clinton, avaunt, my house is for no such.
+
+MAR. Alas, good sir! are you grown so suspicious,
+Thus on no proofs to nourish jealousy?
+I cannot kiss a man but you'll be angry.
+In spite of you, or whoso else saith nay,
+My friends are welcome, as they come this way:
+If you mislike it, mend it as you may.
+What, do you think to pin up Marian,
+As you were wont to do your Spanish girls?
+No, sir, I'll be half mistress of myself;
+The other half is yours, if you deserve it.
+
+CLIN. What madness mov'd thee be displeas'd with me,
+That always us'd thee with so kind regard?
+Did I not at thy first arrival here
+Conduct thee to the Earl of London's house?
+
+MAR. Did I not, being unsolicited,
+Bestow my first pure maiden love on thee?
+
+CLIN. Did I not grace thee there in all the court,
+And bear thee out against the daring abbot?
+
+MAR. Did I not forsake many young gallant courtiers,
+Enamoured with thy aged gravity,
+Who, now being weary of me, wouldst disgrace me?
+
+CAS. If there be any conscience left on earth,
+How can I but believe these protestations?
+
+CLIN. Have I not always been thy nearest friend?
+
+MAR. Have I not always been thy dearest wife?
+
+CLIN. How much will all the world in this condemn thee?
+
+MAR. At first I little fear'd what now I find,
+And grieve too late.
+
+CAS. Content thee, gentle dame.
+The nature of our countrymen is such,
+That, if we see another kiss our wives,
+We cannot brook it: but I will be pleas'd;
+For, will I, nill I,[464] so methinks I must.
+And, gentle captain, be not you offended;
+I was too hot at first, but now repent it.
+I prythee, gentle dame, forgive me this,
+And drown all jealousy in this sweet kiss.
+
+CLIN. This shows your wisdom: on, I'll follow you.
+
+MAR. [_Aside_.] Well, doctor, henceforth never reckon[465] it scorn
+At my sweet Clinton's hands to take the horn.
+
+                                              [_Exeunt_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT IV., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ ROBIN GOODFELLOW,[466] _in a suit of leather,
+    close to his body; his face and hands coloured
+    russet-colour, with a flail_.
+
+ROB. The doctor's self would scarce know Robin now.
+Curs'd Marian may go seek another man,
+For I intend to dwell no longer with her,
+Since that the bastinado drove me thence.
+These silken girls are all too fine for me:
+My master shall report of those in hell,
+Whilst I go range amongst the country-maids,
+To see, if homespun lasses milder be
+Than my curs'd dame and Lacy's wanton wife.
+Thus therefore will I live betwixt two shapes;
+When as I list, in this transform'd disguise,
+I'll fright the country-people as they pass;
+And sometimes turn me to some other form,
+And so delude them with fantastic shows.
+But woe betide the silly dairymaids,
+For I shall fleet their cream-bowls night by night.
+And slice the bacon-flitches as they hang.
+Well, here in Croydon will I first begin
+To frolic it among the country lobs.
+This day, they say, is call'd Holyrood-day,
+And all the youth are now a-nutting gone.
+Here are a crew of younkers in this wood,
+Well-sorted, for each lad hath got his lass.
+Marry, indeed, there is a tricksy[467] girl,
+That three or four would fain be doing with,
+But that a wily priest among the rest
+Intends to bear her sheer away from all.
+The miller, and my brother Grim the collier
+Appointed here to scuffle for her love.
+I am on Grim's side; for long time ago
+The devil call'd the collier like to like:[468]
+
+    _Enter_ GRIM, CLACK, PARSON SHORTHOSE, JOAN, _with a bag of nuts_.
+
+But here the miller and the collier come,
+With Parson Makebate and their tricksy girl.
+
+GRIM. Parson, persuade me no more. I come,
+Jug, to your custody; Jug, hold the nut-bag.
+
+CLACK. Nay, I will give you nuts to crack.
+
+GRIM. Crack in thy throat and hauster[469] too.
+
+SHO. Neighbours, I wish you both agree:
+Let me be judge, be rul'd by me.
+
+GRIM. Master Parson, remember what _Pueriles_[470] saith, _Ne accesseris
+ad concilio_, &c. I tell you I found this written in the bottom of one
+of my empty sacks. Never persuade men that be inexecrable. I have vowed
+it, and I will perform it. The quarrel is great, and I have taken it
+upon my own shoulders.
+
+CLACK. Ay, that thou shalt, ere I have done; for I will lay it on,
+i'faith.
+
+GRIM. If you lay it in, I must bear it out, this is all. If you strike,
+I must stand to anything, although it be the biggest blow that you can
+lay upon me.
+
+JOAN. Ye both have ofttimes sworn that ye love me;
+Let me overrule you in this angry mood.
+Neighbours and old acquaintance, and fall out!
+
+ROB. Why, that is, because thou wilt not let them fall in.
+
+GRIM. I say, my heart bleedeth when thou speaketh, and therefore do not
+provoke me. Yet, miller, as I am monstrous angry, so I have a wonderful
+great mind to be repeas'd. Let's think what harm cometh by this same
+fighting; if we should hurt one another, how can we help it? Again,
+Clack, do but here forswear Joan's company, and I'll be thine instead
+of her, to use in all your businesses from Croydon to London; yours,
+Gilbert Grim, the chief collier for the king's majesty's own mouth.
+
+CLACK. O Grim, do I smell you? I'll make you forswear her before we two
+part; and therefore come on to this gear. Collier, I will lay on load,
+and when it is done, let who will take it off again.
+
+JOAN. Yet once more hear me speak: leave off for shame,
+If not for love; and let not others laugh
+To see your follies; let me overrule you.
+
+SHO. Ay, let them fight, I care not: I
+Meantime away with Joan will fly;
+And whilst they two are at it here,
+We two will sport ourselves elsewhere.
+
+ROB. There's a stone priest! he loveth a wench, indeed:
+He careth not though both of them do bleed;
+But Robin Goodfellow will conjure you,
+And mar your match, and bang you soundly too.
+I like this country-girl's condition well;
+She's faithful, and a lover but to one:
+Robin stands here to right both Grim and her.
+
+GRIM. Master Parson, look you to my love.
+Miller, here I stand
+With my heart and my hand
+In sweet Jug's right
+With thee to fight.
+
+CLACK. Come, let us to it then.
+
+    [_They fight_: ROBIN _beateth the miller
+    with a flail, and felleth him_.
+
+ROB. Now, miller, miller dustipoll
+I'll clapper-claw your jobbernole.
+
+SHO. Come, Jug, let's leave these senseless blocks,
+Giving each other blows and knocks.
+
+JOAN. I love my Grim too well to leave him so.
+
+SHO. You shall not choose: come, let's away.
+
+    [SHORTHOSE _pulleth_ JUG _after him_: ROBIN
+    _beateth the priest with his flail_.
+
+ROB. Nay then, sir priest, I'll make you stay.
+
+CLACK. Nay, this is nothing, Grim; we'll not part so.
+I thought to have borne it off with my back sword ward,
+And I receiv'd it upon my bare costard.[471]
+                                   [_They fight again_.
+
+ROB. What, miller, are you up again?
+Nay, then, my flail shall never lin,[472]
+Until I force one of us twain
+Betake him to his heels amain.
+
+                   [ROBIN _beats the miller again_.
+
+CLACK. Hold thy hands, Grim! thou hast murder'd me.
+
+GRIM. Thou liest, it is in mine own offence I do it. Get thee gone then:
+I had rather have thy room than thy company.
+
+CLACK. Marry, with all my heart. O, the collier playeth the devil
+with me.
+
+ROB. No, it is the devil playeth the collier with thee.    [_Aside_.]
+
+SHO. My bones are sore; I prythee, Joan,
+Let's quickly from this place be gone.
+Nay, come away, I love thee so,
+Without thee I will never go.
+
+ROB. What, priest, still at your lechery?
+                [ROBIN _beats the priest_.
+I'll thrash you for your knavery.
+If any ask who beat thee so,
+Tell them 'twas Robin Goodfellow.
+                      [SHORTHOSE _runneth away_.
+
+GRIM. O miller, art thou gone? I am glad of it. I smelt my own infirmity
+every stroke I struck at him. Now, Joan, I dare boldly swear thou art my
+own; for I have won thee in the plain field. Now Master Parson shall
+even strike it up; two or three words of his mouth will make her gammer
+Grim all the days of her life after.
+
+ROB. Here is two well-favoured slaves!
+Grim and I may curse all good faces,
+And not hurt our own.
+
+JOAN. What, my love, how dost thou?
+
+GRIM. Even as a conqueror may do. Jug, for thy sake I have made the
+miller a poor cripple all the days of his life, good for nothing else
+but to be carried into the 'spital-house.
+
+ROB. Ay, there is one lie, for thou didst never hurt him.    [_Aside_.]
+
+JOAN. I am glad thou 'scapedst, my love, and wast not hurt.
+
+GRIM. Who? I hurt? Joan, thou knowest me not yet: thou mayest do better
+hereafter. I gave him five mortal wounds the first five strokes I made
+at him.
+
+ROB. There are five lies clapt into one, for brevity's sake.    [_Aside_.]
+
+GRIM. And presently, upon the fifth blow, I made a dangerous thrust at
+him, and violently overthrew him, horse and foot, and there he lay.
+
+ROB. Nay, there you lie. The collier is excellent
+To be companion to the devil himself.    [_Aside_.]
+
+GRIM. But where's Master Parson?
+
+JOAN. He was well bang'd, and knew not who 'twas did it,
+And would have had me gone away with him.
+Here lieth his nut-bag, and the miller's too:
+They had no leisure to take them away.
+
+GRIM. The better for us, Joan; there is good cracking work: it will
+increase household stuff. Come, let's after the parson; we will comfort
+him, and he shall couple us. I'll have Pounceby the painter score upon
+our painted cloth[473] at home all the whole story of our going a-nutting
+this Holyrood-day; and he shall paint me up triumphing over the miller.
+
+                                               [_Exeunt GRIM and JOAN_.
+
+ROB. So let the collier now go boast at home
+How he hath beat the miller from his love.
+I like this modest country maid so well,
+That I believe I must report in hell
+Better of women than my master can.
+Well, till my time's expir'd, I'll keep this quarter,
+And night by night attend their merry meetings.
+                                       [_Exit ROBIN_.
+
+    _Enter_ DUNSTAN _with_ EARL LACY _sick_.
+
+DUN. Let not your sickness add more feebleness
+Unto your weaken'd age; but give me leave
+To cure thy vain suspicious malady.
+Thy eyes shall witness how thou art deceiv'd,
+Misprizing thy fair lady's chastity:
+For whilst we two stand closely here unseen,
+We shall espy them presently approach.
+
+LACY. O, show me this, thou blessed man of God,
+And thou shalt then make young my withered age.
+
+DUN. Mark the beginning; for here Musgrave cometh.
+
+    _Enter_ MUSGRAVE.
+
+MUS. O thrice unhappy and unfortunate,
+That, having fit occasion proffer'd thee
+Of conference with beauteous Honorea,
+Thou overslipp'd it, and o'erslipp'dst thyself.
+Never since wedlock tied her to the earl,
+Have I saluted her; although report
+Is blaz'd abroad of her inconstancy.
+This is her evening walk, and here will I
+Attend her coming forth, and greet her fairly.
+
+LACY. See, Dunstan, how their youth doth blind our age!
+Thou dost deceive thyself and bringest me
+To see my proper shame and infamy.
+
+    _Enter_ HONOREA.
+
+But here she comes: my hope, my fear, my love.
+
+DUN. Here comes the unstain'd honour of thy bed.
+Thy ears shall hear her virtuous, chaste replies,
+And make thy heart confess thou dost her wrong.
+
+HON. Now modest love hath banish'd wanton thoughts,
+And alter'd me from that I was before,
+To that chaste life I ought to entertain.
+My heart is tied to that strict form of life,
+That I joy only to be Lacy's wife.
+
+LACY. God fill thy mind with these chaste, virtuous thoughts!
+
+MUS. O, now I see her, I am half asham'd
+Of so long absence, of neglect of speech.
+My dearest lady, patroness of beauty,
+Let thy poor servant make his true excuse!
+
+HON. Musgrave, I easily take your excuse,
+Accusing my fond self for what is pass'd.
+
+MUS. Long time we wanted opportunity;
+But now the forelock of well-wishing time
+Hath bless'd us both, that here without suspect
+We may renew the tenor of our loves.
+
+LACY. O Dunstan, how she smiles to hear him speak!
+
+HON. No, child of fortune and inconstancy,
+Thou shalt not train me, or induce my love
+To loose desires or dishonoured thoughts.
+'Tis God's own work that struck a deep remorse
+Into my tainted heart for my pass'd folly.
+
+MUS. O, thou confound'st me! Speak as thou wert won't,
+Like Love herself, my lovely Honorea.
+
+HON. Why, how now, Musgrave! what esteem'st thou me,
+That thou provokest me, that first denied me?
+I will not yield you reasons why I may not,
+More than your own. You told me why you would not.
+
+MUS. By heavens, by thee, my saint, my happiness!
+No torture shall control my heart in this,
+To teach my tongue deny to call thee love.
+
+HON. Well, in regard that in my maiden-days
+I lov'd thee well, now let me counsel thee.
+Reclaim these idle humours; know thyself;
+Remember me, and think upon my lord;
+And let these thoughts bring forth those chaste effects,
+Which may declare thy change unto the world:
+And this assure thee--whilst I breathe this air,
+Earl Lacy's honour I will ne'er impair.
+                                         [_Exit_ HONOREA.
+
+DUN. Now your eyes see that which your heart believ'd not.
+
+LACY. 'Tis a miracle beyond the reach
+Of my capacity! I could weep for joy,
+Would but my tears express how much I love her!
+Men may surmise amiss in jealousy,
+Of those that live in untouch'd honesty.
+
+MUS. Is she departed? and do I conceive
+This height of grief, and do no violence
+Unto myself? Said she I denied her?
+Far be it from my heart to think that thought.
+All ye that, as I do, have felt this smart,
+Ye know how burthensome 'tis at my heart.
+Hereafter never will I prosecute
+This former motion, my unlawful suit;
+But, since she is Earl Lacy's virtuous wife,
+I'll live a private, pensive, single life.
+                                 [_Exit_ MUSGRAVE.
+
+DUN. God doth dispose all at his blessed will;
+And he hath chang'd their minds from bad to good,
+That we, which see't, may learn to mend ourselves.
+
+LACY. I'll reconcile myself to Musgrave's love:
+I will recant my false suspicion,
+And humbly make my true submission.
+
+                                     [_Exeunt_.
+
+    _Enter_ MARIAN, _chafing_.
+
+MAR. Say'st thou thou'lt make the house too hot for me?
+I'll soon abroad, and cool me in the air.
+I'll teach him never scorn to drink his health
+Whom I do love. He thinks to overcrow me
+With words and blows; but he is in the wrong,
+Begin he when he dares! O, he's too hot
+And angry to live long with Marian.
+But I'll not long be subject to his rage:
+Here 'tis shall rid him of his hateful life,
+And bless me with the style of widowhood.
+'Twas Harvey's work to temper it so well:
+The strongest poison that he could devise.
+
+    _Enter_ CLINTON.
+
+I have been too long subject to the slave;
+But now I'll cast off that detested yoke.
+
+CLIN. Musgrave, I see, is reconcil'd to th'earl;
+For now I met him walking with Lord Lacy.
+Sure, this is Marian's plot, and there she stands.
+What, love, alone!
+
+MAR. Ay, captain, much disturb'd
+About the frantic doctor's jealousy;
+Who, though he seem'd content when thou wast there,
+He after fell reviling thee and me;
+Robb'd me of all my jewels; locks his plate
+In his own trunk; and let's me only live
+To bear the idle title of his wife.
+
+CLIN. Fair Marian, by a soldier's loyal faith,
+If my employment any way may help
+To set thee free from this captivity,
+Use me in any sort: command my sword;
+I'll do't, as soon as thou shalt speak the word.
+
+MAR. Now, by my true love, which I wish to thee,
+I conjure thee with resolution
+To slay that monster! Do not fail to do it!
+For, if thou dost, I would I had not spoke it.
+
+CLIN. Now try me; and, when next we hap to meet,
+The doctor lies stone dead at Clinton's feet.
+
+MAR. Nay, now I see thou lov'st me.
+
+CLIN. Say no more.
+If thou dost loathe him, he shall die therefore.
+
+MAR. To-morrow morning will he early rise
+To see Earl Lacy: meet him in the cloister,
+And make that place revenge his sanctuary.
+This night will I break open all the trunks,
+Rifle his caskets, rob him of his gold;
+And all the doctor's treasure shall be thine.
+If thou miscarry, yet this drink shall do it.
+
+    _Enter_ CASTILIANO.
+
+CAS. My wife's impatience hath left me alone,
+And made my servant run, I know not whither.
+
+MAR. Peace! here is our eyesore. Clinton, leave us now.
+
+CLIN. Nay, now occasion smiles, and I will do it.
+                           [CLINTON _draweth his sword_.
+
+MAR. Put up thy sword; be it thy morning's work:
+Farewell to-night; but fail me not to-morrow.
+
+CLIN. Farewell, my love. No rest shall close these eyes,
+Until the morning peep; and then he dies.
+                                        [_Exit_ CLINTON.
+
+CAS. [_Soliloq_.] Now I remember, I have quite outrun
+My time prefix'd to dwell upon the earth:
+Yet Akercock is absent: where is he?
+O, I am glad I am so well near rid
+Of my earth's plague and my lascivious dame.
+
+MAR. Hath he discover'd my intendment,
+That he presages his ensuing death?
+I must break off these fearful meditations.
+
+CAS. How shall I give my verdict up to Pluto
+Of all these accidents?
+
+MAR. Why, how now, man?
+
+CAS. What, my dear dame! my reconciled spouse!
+Upon my soul, my love to thee is more
+Now at this present than 'twas e'er before.
+
+MAR. He hath descried me sure, he sootheth me so!    [_Aside_.]
+
+CAS. I love thee now, because I now must leave thee.
+This was the day of my nativity,
+And therefore, sweet wife, let us revel it.
+
+MAR. Nay, I have little cause to joy at all.
+
+CAS. Thou Grossest still my mirth with discontents!
+If ever heretofore I have displeas'd thee,
+Sweet dame, I crave thy pardon now for all.
+This is my birthday, girl, I must rejoice:
+Ask what thou wilt, and I will give it thee.
+
+MAR. Should I but ask to lead a quiet life,
+You hardly would grant this unto your wife;
+Much less a thing that were of more import.
+
+CAS. Ask anything, and try if I'll deny thee.
+
+MAR. O my poor Musgrave, how hast thou been wrong'd,
+And my fair lady!
+
+CAS. Use no preambles,
+But tell me plainly.
+
+MAR. Nay, remember them,
+And join their slander to that love you owe me,
+And then old Lacy's jealousy.
+
+CAS. What then?
+
+MAR. Nay, now I see you will not understand me.
+
+CAS. Thou art too dark; speak plainly, and 'tis done.
+
+MAR. Then doom the earl, and bless poor Musgrave's eyes
+With Honorea's love; for this in thy hands lies.
+
+CAS. How should I doom him?
+
+MAR. How else, but to death?
+
+CAS. As if his life or death lay in my hands?
+
+MAR. He is thy patient, is he not?
+
+CAS. He is.
+
+MAR. Then in thy hands lie both his life and death.
+Sweet love, let Marian beg it at thy hand:
+Why should the grey-beard live to cross us all?
+Nay, now I see thee frown: thou wilt not do it.
+
+CAS. Fie, fie, dame! you are too suspicious.
+Here is my hand, that thou may'st know I love thee;
+I'll poison him this night before I sleep.
+
+MAR. Thou dost but flatter me!
+
+CAS. Tush! I have sworn it.
+
+MAR. And wilt thou do it?
+
+CAS. He is sure to die.
+
+MAR. I'll kiss thy lips for speaking that kind word:
+But do it, and I'll hang about thy neck,
+And curl thy hair, and sleep betwixt thy arms,
+And teach thee pleasures which thou never knew'st.
+
+CAS. Promise no more, and trouble me no more:
+The longer I stay here, he lives the longer.
+I must go to him now, and now I'll do it.
+Go home and hasten supper 'gainst I come:
+We will carouse to his departing soul.
+
+MAR. I will, dear husband; but remember me:
+[_Aside_.] When thou hast poison'd him, I'll poison thee.
+                                          [_Exit_ MARIAN.
+
+CAS. O wonderful, how women can dissemble!
+Now she can kiss me, hang about my neck,
+And soothe me with smooth smiles and lewd entreaties.
+Well, I have promis'd her to kill the earl;
+And yet, I hope ye will not think I'll do it.[474]
+Yet I will sound the depth of their device,
+And see the issue of their bloody drift.
+I'll give the earl, unknown to any man,
+A sleepy potion, which shall make him seem
+As if he were stark dead, for certain hours:
+But in my absence no man shall report
+That for my dame's sake I did any hurt.
+
+                                     [_Exit_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT V., SCENE I.
+
+
+    _Enter_ GRIM, _with_ JOAN.
+
+GRIM. Nay, but, Joan, have a care! bear a brain[475] for all at once.
+'Tis not one hour's pleasure that I suspect more than your mother's
+good, countenance. If she be asleep, we may be bold under correction;
+if she be awake, I may go my ways, and nobody ask me, _Grim, whither
+goest thou_? Nay, I tell you, I am so well beloved in our town, that
+not the worst dog in the street will hurt my little finger.
+
+JOAN. Why speak you this? You need not fear my mother,
+For she was fast asleep four hours ago.
+
+GRIM. Is she, sure? Did you hear her snort in her dead sleep? Why then,
+Joan, I have an hour's mirth for thee.
+
+JOAN. And I a mess of cream for thee.
+
+GRIM. Why, there is one for another then: fetch it, Joan; we will eat
+and kiss, and be as merry as your cricket. [_Exit_ JOAN _for the
+cream_.] Art thou gone for it? Well, go thy ways for the kindest lass
+that ever poor collier met withal? I mean for to make short work with
+her, and marry her presently. I'll single her out, i'faith, till I
+make her bear double, and give the world to understand we will have a
+young Grim between us.
+
+    _Enter_ JOAN _with the cream_.
+
+JOAN. Look here, my love, 'tis sweeten'd for thy mouth.
+
+GRIM. You have put none of your love-powder in it, to make me
+enamourable of you, have you, Joan? I have a simple pate, to expect
+you! [_One knocketh at the door_.] Joan, hark, my brains beat, my
+head works, and my mind giveth me: some lovers of yours come sneaking
+hither now; I like it not, 'tis suspectious.
+
+                             [_One knocketh again_.
+
+JOAN. You need not fear it; for there is none alive
+Shall bear the least part of my heart from thee.
+
+GRIM. Say'st thou so? hold there still, and whoe'er he be, open door
+to him.
+
+    _She openeth the door. Enter_ SHORTHOSE, _and_ ROBIN _after him_.
+
+JOAN. What, Master Parson, are you come so late?
+You are welcome; here's none but Grim and I.
+
+SHO. Joan, I'll no more a-nutting go,
+I was so beaten to and fro;
+And yet who it was, I do not know.
+
+GRIM. What, Master Parson, are you come so late to say eveningsong to
+your parishioners? I have heard of your knavery. I give you a fair
+warning; touch her no lower than her girdle, and no higher than her
+chin: I keep her lips and her hips for my own use. I do; and so welcome.
+
+ROBIN. This two hours have I dogg'd the parson round about all Croydon,
+doubting some such thing.    [_Aside_.]
+
+SHO. No, Grim, I here forswear to touch
+Thy Joan, or any other such:
+Love hath been so cudgell'd out of me,
+I'll go no more to wood with thee.
+
+ROB. 'Twas Robin beat this holy mind into him.
+I think more cudgelling would make him more honest.    [_Aside_.]
+
+GRIM. You speak like an honest man and a good parson, and that is more.
+Here's Joan's benevolation for us, a mess of cream and so forth. Here is
+your place, Master Parson. Stand on the t'other side of the table, Joan.
+Eat hard to-night, that thou may marry us the better to-morrow.
+
+ROB. What, is my brother Grim so good a fellow.
+                      [_They fall to the cream_.
+I love a mess of cream as well as they;
+I think it were best I stepp'd in and made one.    [_Aside_.]
+Ho, ho, ho,[476] my masters! No good fellowship!
+Is Robin Goodfellow a bugbear grown,
+                        [ROBIN _falleth to eat_.
+That he is not worthy to be bid sit down?
+
+GRIM. O Lord, save us! sure, he is some country-devil; he hath got a
+russet coat upon his face.
+
+      [GRIM _and_ SHORTHOSE _retire to the back of the stage_.]
+
+SHO. Now, _benedicite_! who is this?
+I take him for some fiend, i-wis;[477]
+O, for some holy-water here
+Of this same place this spirit to clear!
+
+ROB. Nay, fear not, Grim, come fall unto your cream:
+Tut, I am thy friend; why dost not come and eat?
+
+GRIM. I, sir? truly, master devil, I am well here, I thank you.
+
+ROB. I'll have thee come, I say. Why, tremblest thou?
+
+GRIM. No, sir, not I; 'tis a palsy I have still. Truly, sir, I have no
+great acquaintance with you.
+
+ROB. Thou shalt have better, man, ere I depart.
+
+GRIM. I will not, and if I can choose.
+
+ROB. Nay, come away, and bring your love with you.
+
+GRIM. Joan! you were best go to him, Joan.
+
+ROB. What, shall I fetch thee, man? The cream is sweet.
+
+GRIM. No, sir, I am coming: much good do't you. I had need of a long
+spoon, now I go to eat with the devil.[478]
+
+ROB. The parson's penance shall be thus to fast.
+Come, tell me, Grim, dost thou not know me, man?
+
+GRIM. No, truly, sir; I am a poor man fetcheth my living out of the
+fire; your worship may be a gentleman devil, for aught I know.
+
+ROB. Some men call me Robin Goodfellow.
+
+GRIM. O Lord, sir! Master Robert Goodfellow, you are very welcome, sir.
+
+ROB. This half year have I liv'd about this town,
+Helping poor servants to despatch their work,
+To brew and bake, and other husbandry.
+Tut, fear not, maid; if Grim be merry,
+I will make up the match between ye.
+
+GRIM. There will be a match in the devil's name!
+
+ROB. Well, now the night is almost spent,
+Since your affections all are bent
+To marriage and to constant love,
+Grim, Robin doth thy choice approve;
+And there's the priest shall marry you:
+Go to it, and make no more ado:
+Sirrah, sir priest, go get you gone,
+And join both her and him anon;
+But ne'er hereafter let me take you
+With wanton love-tricks, lest I make you
+Example to all stone-priests ever,
+To deal with other men's loves never.
+
+SHO. _Valete vos_, and God bless me,
+And rid me from his company!
+Come, Grim, I'll join you hand in hand,
+In sacred wedlock's holy band.
+I will no more a-nutting go,
+That journey caused all this woe.
+
+GRIM. Come, let's to hand in hand quickly. Master Robert, you were ever
+one of the honestest merry devils that ever I saw.
+
+JOAN. Sweet Grim, and if thou lovest me, let's away.
+
+GRIM. Nay, now, Joan, I spy a hole in your coat: if you cannot endure
+the devil, you'll never love the collier. Why, we two are sworn
+brothers. You shall see me talk with him even as familiarly as if I
+should parbreak[479] my mind and my whole stomach upon thee.
+
+JOAN. I prythee, do not, Grim.
+
+GRIM. Who? not I? O Lord, Master Robert Goodfellow, I have a poor
+cottage at home, whither Joan and I will jog us merrily. We will make
+you no stranger, if you come thither. You shall be used as devilishly
+as you would wish, i'faith. There is never a time my cart cometh from
+London, but the collier bringeth a goose in his sack, and that, with
+the giblets thereof, is at your service.
+
+ROB. This is more kindness, Grim, than I expected.
+
+GRIM. Nay, sir, if you come home, you shall find it true, I warrant
+you. All my whole family shall be at your devilship's pleasure, except
+my poor Joan here, and she is my own proper nightgear.
+
+ROB. Gramercies, but away in haste;
+The night is almost spent and pass'd.
+
+GRIM. God be with you, sir; I'll make as much haste about it as may be;
+for, and that were once done, I would begin a new piece of work with
+you, Joan.
+
+            [_Exeunt all but_ ROBIN.
+
+ROB. Now joy betide this merry morn,
+And keep Grim's forehead from the horn:
+For Robin bids his last adieu
+To Grim and all the rest of you.
+                         [_Exit_ ROBIN.
+
+    _Enter_ CLINTON _alone_.
+
+CLIN. Bright Lucifer, go couch thee in the clouds,
+And let this morning prove as dark as night!
+That I unseen may bring to happy end
+The doctor's murder, which I do intend.
+'Tis early yet: he is not so soon stirring.
+But stir he ne'er so soon, so soon he dies.
+I'll walk along before the palace gate;
+Then shall I know how near it is to-day,
+He shall have no means to escape away.
+
+                           [_Exit_ CLINTON.
+
+    _Enter_ CASTILIANO.
+
+CAS. My trunk's broke open, and my jewels gone!
+My gold and treasure stol'n: my house despoil'd
+Of all my furniture, and nothing left?
+No, not my wife, for she is stol'n away:
+But she hath pepper'd me, I feel it work--
+My teeth are loosen'd, and my belly swell'd;
+My entrails burn with such distemper'd heat,
+That well I know my dame hath poison'd me:
+When she spoke fairest, then she did this act.
+When I have spoken all I can imagine,
+I cannot utter half that she intends;
+She makes as little poisoning of a man,
+As to carouse; I feel that this is true.
+
+    _Enter_ CLINTON.
+
+Nay, now I know too much of womankind.
+'Zounds, here's the captain: what should he make here
+With his sword drawn? there's yet more villany.
+
+CLIN. The morning is far spent; but yet he comes not.
+I wonder Marian sends him not abroad.
+Well, doctor, linger time, and linger life;
+For long thou shalt not breathe upon the earth.
+
+CAS. No, no, I will not live amongst ye long:
+Is it for me thou wait'st, thou bloody wretch?
+Her poison hath prevented thee in murther.
+
+    _Enter_ EARL MORGAN, ST DUNSTAN _with_ HONOREA
+    _fainting, and_ MARIAN.
+
+Now here be they suppose Earl Lacy dead.
+See how this lady grieveth for that she wisheth.
+
+DUN. My Lord of London, by his sudden death,
+And all the signs before his late departure,
+'Tis very probable that he is poison'd.
+
+MAR. Do you but doubt it? credit me, my lord,
+I heard him say that drink should be his last:
+I heard my husband speak it, and he did it.
+
+CAS. There is my old friend, she always speaks for me.
+O shameless creature, was't not thy device?
+
+MOR. Let not extremity of grief o'erwhelm thee,
+My dearest Honorea; for his death shall be
+Surely reveng'd with all severity
+Upon the doctor, and that suddenly.
+
+CLIN. What fortune's this, that all these come this way
+To hinder me, and save thy life to-day?
+
+HON. My gracious lord, this doleful accident
+Hath robb'd me of my joy: and, royal earl,
+Though in thy life thou didst suspect my love,
+My grief and tears suspicions shall remove.
+
+MAR. Madam, to you and to your father's love
+I owe as much and more than my own life.
+Had I ten husbands should agree to do it,
+My gracious lord, you presently should know it.
+
+CAS. Ay, there's a girl! think you I did not well,
+To live with such a wife, to come from hell.
+
+MAR. Look, look, my lord, there stands the murderer!
+
+CAS. How am I round beset on every side!
+First, that same captain here stands to kill me;
+My dame she hath already poisoned me;
+Earl Morgan he doth threaten present death;
+The Countess Honorea, in revenge
+Of Lacy, is extremely incens'd 'gainst me.
+All threaten--none shall do it; for my date
+Is now expired, and I must back to hell.
+And now, my servant, wheresoe'er thou be,
+Come quickly, Akercock, and follow me.
+Lordings, adieu, and my curs'd wife, farewell,
+If me ye seek, come follow me to hell.
+
+      [_The ground opens, and they both fall[480] down into it_.
+
+MOR. The earth that opened now is clos'd again.
+
+DUN. It is God's judgment for his grievous sins.
+
+CLIN. Was there a quagmire, that he sank so soon?
+
+HON. O miracle! now may we justly say,
+Heavens have reveng'd my husband's death this day.
+
+MOR. Alas, poor Marian! we have wrong'd thee much
+To cause thee match thyself to any such.
+
+MAR. Nay, let him go, and sink into the ground;
+For such as he are better lost than found.
+Now, Honorea, we are freed from blame,
+And both enrich'd with happy widow's name[481].
+
+    _Enter_ EARL LACY, _with_ FORREST _and_ MUSGRAVE.
+
+LACY. O, lead me quickly to that mourning train,
+Which weep for me, who am reviv'd again.
+
+HON. Marian, I shed some tears of perfect grief.
+                     [_She falleth into a swoon_.
+
+MOR. Do not my eyes deceive me? liveth my son?
+
+LACY. My lord and father, both alive and well,
+Recover'd of my weakness. Where's my wife?
+
+MAR. Here is my lady, your beloved wife,
+Half dead to hear of your untimely end.
+
+LACY. Look on me, Honorea; see thy lord:
+I am not dead, but live to love thee still.
+
+DUN. 'Tis God disposeth all things, as he will:
+He raiseth those the wicked wish to fall.
+
+CLIN. 'Zounds, I still watch on this enclosed ground;
+For if he rise again, I'll murder him.
+
+HON. My lord, my tongue's not able to report
+Those joys my heart conceives to see thee live.
+
+DUN. Give God the glory: he recovered thee,
+And wrought this judgment on that cursed man,
+That set debate and strife among ye all.
+
+MOR. My lord, our eyes have seen a miracle,
+Which after ages ever shall admire.
+The Spanish doctor, standing here before us,
+Is sunk into the bowels of the earth,
+Ending his vile life by a viler death.
+
+LACY. But, gentle Marian, I bewail thy loss,
+That wert maid, wife, and widow, all so soon.
+
+MAR. 'Tis your recovery that joys me more,
+Than grief can touch me for the doctor's death.
+He never lov'd me whilst he liv'd with me,
+Therefore the less I mourn his tragedy.
+
+MOR. Henceforth we'll strictlier look to strangers' lives,
+How they shall marry any English wives.
+Now all men shall record this fatal day;
+Lacy revived, the doctor sunk in clay.
+
+         [_The trumpets sound, exeunt omnes nisi_ DUNSTAN.
+
+DUN. Now is Earl Lacy's house fill'd full of joy,
+He and his lady wholly reconcil'd,
+Their jars all ended: those, that were like men
+Transformed, turn'd unto their shapes again.
+And, gentlemen, before we make an end,
+A little longer yet your patience lend,
+That in your friendly censures you may see
+What the infernal synod do decree;
+And after judge, if we deserve to name
+This play of ours, _The devil and his dame_.
+                                     [_Exit_.
+
+    _It thunders and lightneth. Enter_ PLUTO, MINOS,
+    AEACUS, RHADAMANTHUS, _with Fury bringing in_
+    MALBECCO'S _Ghost_.
+
+PLU. Minos, is this the day he should return,
+And bring us tidings of his twelvemonth spent!
+
+    _Enter_ BELPHEGOR, _like a devil, with horns
+    on his head, and_ AKERCOCK.
+
+MIN. It is, great king, and here Belphegor comes.
+
+PLU. His visage is more ghastly than 'twas wont.
+What ornaments are those upon his head?
+
+BEL. Hell, I salute thee! now I feel myself
+Rid of a thousand torments. O vile earth,
+Worse for us devils than hell itself for men!
+Dread Pluto, hear thy subject's just complaint
+                [BELPHEGOR _kneeleth to_ PLUTO.
+Proceeding from the anguish of my soul.
+O, never send me more into the earth!
+For there dwells dread and horror more than here.
+
+PLU. Stand forth, Belphegor, and report the truth
+Of all things have betide thee in the world.
+
+BEL. When first, great king, I came into the earth,
+I chose a wife both young and beautiful,
+The only daughter to a noble earl;
+But when the night came that I should her bed,
+I found another laid there in her stead:
+And in the morning when I found the change,
+Though I denied her, I was forc'd to take her.
+With her I liv'd in such a mild estate,
+Us'd her still kindly, lov'd her tenderly;
+Which she requited with such light regard,
+So loose demeanour, and dishonest life,
+That she was each man's whore, that was my wife.
+No hours but gallants flock'd unto my house,
+Such as she fancied for her loathsome lust,
+With whom, before my face, she did not spare
+To play the strumpet. Yea, and more than this,
+She made my house a stew for all resorts,
+Herself a bawd to others' filthiness:
+Which, if I once began but to reprove,
+O, then, her tongue was worse than all the rest!
+No ears with patience would endure to hear her,
+Nor would she ever cease, till I submit[ted]:
+And then she'd speak me fair, but wish me dead.
+A hundred drifts she laid to cut me off,
+Still drawing me to dangers of my life.
+And now, my twelvemonth being near expir'd,
+She poison'd me; and least that means should fail,
+She entic'd a captain to've murdered me.
+In brief, whatever tongue can tell of ill,
+All that may well be spoken of my dame.
+
+AKER. Poor Akercock was fain to fly her sight,
+For never an hour but she laid on me;
+Her tongue and fist walked all so nimbly.
+
+PLU. Doth then, Belphegor, this report of thine
+Against all women hold in general?
+
+BEL. Not so, great prince: for, as 'mongst other creatures,
+Under that sex are mingled good and bad.
+There are some women virtuous, chaste, and true;
+And to all those the devil will give their due.
+But, O, my dame, born for a scourge[482] to man!
+For no mortality [I] would endure that,
+Which she a thousand times hath offered me.
+
+PLU. But what new shapes are those upon thy head?
+
+BEL. These are the ancient arms of cuckoldry,
+And these my dame hath kindly left to me;
+For which Belphegor shall be here derided,
+Unless your great infernal majesty
+Do solemnly proclaim, no devil shall scorn
+Hereafter still to wear the goodly horn.
+
+PLU. This for thy service I will grant thee freely:
+All devils shall, as thou dost, like horns wear,
+And none shall scorn Belphegor's arms to bear.
+And now, Malbecco, hear thy latest doom.
+Since that thy first reports are justified
+By after-proofs, and women's looseness known,
+One plague more will I send upon the earth!
+Thou shalt assume a light and fiery shape,
+And so for ever live within the world;
+Dive into women's thoughts, into men's hearts;
+Raise up false rumours and suspicious fears;
+Put strange inventions into each man's mind;
+And for these actions they shall always call thee
+By no name else but fearful Jealousy.
+Go, Jealousy, begone; thou hast thy charge;
+Go, range about the world that is so large.
+And now, for joy Belphegor is return'd,
+The furies shall their tortures cast away,
+And all hell o'er we'll make it holiday.
+
+      [_It thundereth and lightneth. Exeunt omnes_.
+
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+
+[1] Cooper's "Athenae Cantabrig," ii. 306.
+
+[2] Nash seems to have boasted of his birth earlier than the date of his
+"Lenten Stuff," for G. Harvey, in his "Four Letters," &c., 1592, says:
+"I have enquired what speciall cause the pennyless gentleman hath to
+brag of his birth, which giveth the woeful poverty good leave, even with
+his Stentor's voice, and in his rattling terms, to revive the pitiful
+history of Lazarillo de Thormes."
+
+[3] Not of Hertfordshire, a mistake originally made by Shiel in his
+"Lives of the Poets," thence copied into Berkenhout's "Biographia
+Literaria," and subsequently into the last edition of the "Biographia
+Dramatica." [It is copied also by the editor of a reprint of Nash and
+Marlowe's "Dido," 1825.]
+
+[4] Sig. Q 4.
+
+[5] "For coming from Venice the last summer, and taking Bergamo in my
+way homeward to England, it was my hap, sojourning there some four or
+five days, to light in fellowship with that famous _Francattip_
+Harlequin, who, perceiving me to be an Englishman by my habit and
+speech, asked me many particulars of the order and manner of our plays,
+which he termed by the name of representations. Amongst other talk he
+enquired of me if I knew any such _Parabolano_ here in London as Signior
+_Chiarlatano_ Kempino. 'Very well,' quoth I, 'and have been often in his
+company.' He hearing me say so began to embrace me anew, and offered me
+all the courtesy he could for his sake, saying although he knew him not,
+yet for the report he had heard of his pleasance, he could not but be in
+love with his perfections being absent."
+
+Many of Nash's works furnish evidence that he was well acquainted with
+Italian poets and writers. Some allusions and translations are pointed
+out in the notes to the present reprint of "Summer's Last Will and
+Testament."
+
+[6] It is called "A counter-cuff to Martin junior," &c.
+
+[7] It may be doubted whether Greene and Nash did not contribute to
+bring the occupation of a _ropemaker_ into discredit. Marston, in his
+"_Parasitaster_," printed in 1606, for some reason or other, speaks of
+it in terms of great contempt.
+
+"Then must you sit there thrust and contemned, bareheaded to a grogram
+scribe, ready to start up at the door creaking, prest to get in, with
+your leave sir, to some surly groom, _the third son of a ropemaker_."
+
+[8] There is a MS. poem in the Brit. Mus. (Bibl. Sloan. 1489) entitled
+"The Trimming of Tom Nash," written in metre-ballad verse, but it does
+not relate to our author, though written probably not very long after
+1600, and though the title is evidently borrowed from the tract by
+Gabriel Harvey. Near the opening it contains some notices of romances
+and works of the time, which may be worth quoting--
+
+    "And he as many authors read
+      As ere Don Quixote had.
+    And some of them could say by heart
+      To make the hearers glad.
+
+    "The valiant deeds of Knight o'th' Sun
+      And Rosicleer so tall;
+    And Palmerin of England too
+      And Amadis of Gaul.
+
+    "Bevis of Hampton he had read
+      And Guy of Warwick stout;
+    Huon of Bordeaux, though so long,
+      Yet he had read him out.
+
+    "The Hundred Tales and Scoggin's Jests
+      And Arthur of the Round Table,
+    The twelve Wise men of Gotham too
+      And Ballads innumerable."
+
+[9] It is unnecessary to quote the passage, as the whole tract is
+reprinted both in the old and new editions of the "Harleian Miscellany."
+In his "Almond for a Parrot," Nash adverts to the ticklishness of the
+times, and to the necessity of being extremely guarded in what he might
+write. "If thou (Kemp) will not accept of it in regard of the envy of
+some citizens that cannot away with arguments, I'll prefer it (the book)
+to the soul of Dick Tarlton, who I know will entertain it with thanks,
+imitating herein that merry man Rabelais, who dedicated most of his
+works to the soul of the old Queen of Navarre, many years after her
+death, for that she was a maintainer of mirth in her life. Marry, God
+send us more of her making, and then some of us should not live so
+discontented as we do, for nowadays a man cannot have a bout with a
+ballader, or write _Midas habet aures asininas_, in great Roman letters,
+but he shall be in danger of a further displeasure."
+
+Nash's "Isle of Dogs" was doubtless a satire upon the age, which
+"touched too near" some persons in authority. In the last act of "The
+Return from Parnassus" the Isle of Dogs is frequently spoken of, and
+once as if it were a place of refuge. _Ingenioso_ says: "To be brief,
+_Academico_, writs are out for me to apprehend me for my plays, and now
+I am bound for _the Isle of Dogs_."
+
+[10] Sir J. Harington has an epigram upon the paper war between Harvey
+and Nash.
+
+    TO DOCTOR HARVEY OF CAMBRIDGE.
+
+    "The proverb says, who fights with dirty foes
+    Must needs be soil'd, admit they win or lose:
+    Then think it doth a Doctor's credit dash
+    To make himself antagonist to Nash."
+
+--B. II., _Epigr_. 36.
+
+[11] _Tergimini_ means the three Harveys, for Gabriel took up the
+cudgels for himself and his two brothers.
+
+[12] The death of Nash is spoken of in the address to a tract, which is
+the more curious, as it forms a second part to "Pierce Penniless." It
+has been assigned to Decker, under the title of "News from Hell;" [and
+it was reprinted under the title of "A Knight's Conjuring." This issue
+is included in the Percy Society's series.]
+
+[13] [See the list, however, in "Ath. Cantab.," ii. 307-9, and in
+Hazlitt's "Handbook," in v.]
+
+[14] In 1589 Nash wrote the address prefixed to Robert Greene's
+"Menaphon," which contains notices of various preceding and contemporary
+poets, and which has been admired by all but Mr Malone, for the general
+purity of its style and the justness of its criticism. As Nash was born
+in November 1567, he was only in his twenty-second year when it was
+published.
+
+[15] Parts of "Pierce Penniless, his Supplication to the Devil," are
+written by Nash in a similar strain of bitter grief for past errors,
+especially a poem inserted near the commencement. [As to Nash's
+withdrawal of his apology, see Hazlitt in v.]
+
+    "Why is't damnation to despair and die
+      When life is my true happiness' disease?
+    My soul! my soul! thy safety makes me fly
+      The faulty means that might my pain appease.
+    Divines and dying men may talk of hell,
+    But in my heart her several torments dwell.
+
+    "Ah, worthless wit, to train me to this woe!
+      Deceitful arts that nourish discontent.
+    Ill thrive the folly that bewitch'd me so,
+      Vain thoughts, adieu, for now I will repent.
+    And yet my wants persuade me to proceed,
+    Since none takes pity of a scholar's need."
+
+The last two lines of the first stanza are given to the Father in
+"The Yorkshire Tragedy," attributed to Shakespeare.
+
+[16] This play (if it do not more properly come under the class of
+_shews_, as Nash himself calls it) was not printed until 1600; but
+internal evidence proves that it was written, and probably performed, as
+early as the autumn of 1592. Various decisive marks of time are pointed
+out in notes in the course of the play, the principal of which are, the
+great drought, the progress of Queen Elizabeth to Oxford, and the
+breaking out of the plague. The piece was presented at Croydon, at the
+residence of some nobleman, who is mentioned in many places. The
+theatres in London were closed at this date in consequence of the
+mortality. (See Malone's Shakespeare, by Boswell, in. 299, note). In the
+prologue we are told that the representation was not on a _common
+stage_.
+
+[17] The subsequent account of Will Sommers, or Summer, King Henry the
+Eighth's celebrated fool, is from the pen of Robert Armin, an author and
+actor, who himself often played the clown's part in the time of
+Shakespeare. It is in his "Nest of Ninnies, _simply of themselves,
+without compound_," 1608, 4to--
+
+    "Will Sommers born in Shropshire, as some say,
+    Was brought to Greenwich on a holiday,
+    Presented to the King; which Fool disdain'd
+    To shake him by the hand, or else asham'd:
+    Howe'er it was, as ancient people say,
+    With much ado was won to it that day.
+    Lean he was, hollow-eyed, as all report.
+    And stoop he did too; yet in all the court,
+    Few men were more belov'd than was this Fool,
+    Whose merry prate kept with the King much rule.
+    When he was sad, the King and he would rhime;
+    Thus Will exiled sadness many a time.
+    I could describe him as I did the rest,
+    But in my mind I do not think it best:
+    My reason this--howe'er I do descry him,
+    So many knew him, that I may belie him;
+    Therefore, to please all people, one by one,
+    I hold it best to let that pains alone.
+    Only thus much: he was a poor man's friend,
+    And help'd the widow often in the end.
+    The King would ever grant what he did crave,
+    For well he knew Will no exacting knave;
+    But wish'd the King to do good deeds great store,
+    Which caus'd the court to love him more and more."
+
+Some few of the personal particulars, here omitted, Nash supplies in
+the course of this play. [In 1676 a pamphlet was printed, purporting
+falsely to be] "A pleasant History of the Life and death of Will
+Summers; how he came first to be known at court, and by what means he
+got to be King Henry the Eighth's 'Jester.'" It was reprinted by Harding
+in 1794, with an engraving from an old portrait, supposed to be Will
+Summer; but if it be authentic, it does not at all support Armin's
+description of him, that he was "lean and hollow-eyed." Many of the
+jests are copied from the French and Italian; and [almost all] of them
+have been assigned also to Scoggin and Tarlton. One or two of these are
+introduced into S. Rowley's "When you see me you know me," a historical
+comedy, first printed in 1605, in which Will Summer plays a prominent
+part.
+
+[18] Hor. Lib. i. Epist. 16, I, 62.
+
+[19] Dick Huntley was, perhaps, the book-holder or prompter who is
+subsequently mentioned, and whom Will Summer, in the licence of his
+character, calls by his name. Perhaps his "cousin Ned" was another of
+the actors. Harry Baker is spoken of in the scene, where Vertumnus is
+despatched for Christmas and Backwinter.
+
+[20] [The tract here referred to is Robert Copland's poem, called "Jyl
+of Breyntford's Testament." See Hazlitt's "Handbook," p. 122.] Julian of
+Brentford, or, as she is here called, Gyllian of Braynford, seems to
+have been an old woman who had the reputation of possessing supernatural
+power. In Henslowe's MSS., a play by Thomas Downton and Samuel Ridley,
+called "Friar Fox and Gillian of Brentford," is mentioned under date of
+February 1598-9, but it was acted, as appears by the same authority, as
+early as 5th January 1592. She is noticed in "Westward Hoe!" 1607, where
+Clare says: "O Master Linstock, 'tis no walking will serve my turn: have
+me to bed, good, sweet Mistress Honeysuckle. I doubt that _old hag
+Gillian of Braineford_ has bewitched me." Sig. G 4.
+
+Julian of Brentford's will had been spoken of before by Nash in his
+epistle "to the Gentlemen Students of both Universities," prefixed to
+Greene's "Menaphoii," in 1589. "But so farre discrepant is the idle
+vsage of our unexperienced and illiterated Punies from this
+prescription, that a tale of Joane a Brainfords Will, and the vnlucky
+frumenty, will be as soone entertained into their Libraries as the best
+Poeme that euer Tasso eternisht."
+
+[21] Camden, in his "Annals of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth," thus
+speaks of the ravages of the plague in 1592-3, "For this whole year the
+sickness raged violently in London, Saturn passing through the extreme
+parts of Cancer and the head of Leo, as it did in the year 1563; in so
+much, that when the year came about, there died of the sickness and
+other diseases in the city and suburbs, 17,890 persons, besides William
+Roe, Mayor, and three Aldermen; so that Bartholomew Fair was not kept,
+and Michaelmas term was held at St Alban's, twenty miles from London."
+
+[22] Vertumnus enters at the same time, but his name is not mentioned in
+the old 4to at the opening of the scene. He acts the part of a messenger,
+and, as appears afterwards, was provided with a silver arrow.
+
+[23] Well-flogged.
+
+[24] Hor. lib. i. car. 28--
+
+            "Sed omnibus una manet nox,
+    Et calcanda semel via leti."
+
+[25] "The Queen in her summer progress passed through Oxford, and stayed
+there several days, where she was agreeably entertained with elegant
+speeches, plays, and disputations, and received a splendid treat from
+the Lord Buckhurst, Chancellor of the University."--_Camden's "Annals of
+Elizabeth_." Her progress is again alluded to in that part of the play
+where Summer makes his will--
+
+    "And finally, O words, now cleanse your course,
+    Unto Eliza, that most sacred dame,
+    Whom none but saints and angels ought to name,
+    All my fair days remaining I bequeath,
+    To wait upon her, _till she be return'd_," &c.
+
+[26] The following passage in Gabriel Harvey's "New Letter of Notable
+Contents, 1593," speaking of Nash, confirms the conjecture that
+_Falantado_ or _Falanta_ was the burden of a song or ballad at the
+time:--"Let him be the _Falanta_ down-diddle of rhyme, the hayhohaliday
+of prose, the welladay of new writers, and the cutthroat of his
+adversaries."
+
+[27] The hobby-horse was a basket-horse used in morris-dances and May
+games. See note 37 to Greene's "Tu Quoque."
+
+[28] [Hall, the taborer, mentioned in "Old Meg of Herefordshire," 1609.
+See the reprint in "Miscellanea Antiqua Anglicana," 1816.]
+
+[29] A vulgar colloquialism for laying a girl on the grass.
+
+[30] He ran in debt to this amount to usurers, who advanced him money by
+giving him _lute-strings and grey paper_; which he was obliged to sell
+at an enormous loss. There is a very apposite passage in Nash's
+"Christ's Tears over Jerusalem," 1593, where he is referring to the
+resort of spendthrifts and prodigals to usurers for supplies: In the
+first instance, they obtain what they desire, "but at the second time of
+their coming, it is doubtful to say whether they shall have money or no:
+the world grows hard, and we are all mortal: let them make him any
+assurance before a judge, and they shall have some hundred pounds (_per
+consequence_) in silks and velvets. The third time if they come, they
+have baser commodities: the fourth time _lute-strings and grey paper_;
+and then, I pray pardon me, I am not for you: pay me that you owe me,
+and you shall have anything."
+
+So also in Greene's and Lodge's "Looking Glass for London and England,"
+1594, a gentleman thus addresses a usurer, in hopes of inducing him to
+relent: "I pray you, sir, consider that my loss was great by the
+commodity I took up: you know, sir, I borrowed of you forty pounds,
+whereof I had ten pounds in money, and thirty pounds in _lute-strings_,
+which when I came to sell again, I could get but five pounds for them."
+
+[31] Some case of horse-stealing, which had lately taken place, and
+which had attracted public attention.
+
+[32] See Collier's "Bibliogr. Catal.," ii. 512. Extr. from Stat. Reg.,
+i. 184, and a woodcut in his "Book of Roxburghe Ballads," 1847, p. 103.
+
+[33] The title of an old ballad. Compare Collier's "Extr. from
+Stationers' Registers," i. 7, 19, and Rimbault's "Book of Songs and
+Ballads," p. 83.
+
+[34] The words of Aulus Gellius are these: "Neque mihi," inquit.
+"aedificatio, neque vasum, neque vestimentum ullum est manupreciosum,
+neque preciosus servus, neque ancilla est: si quid est," inquit, "quod
+utar, utor: si non est, egeo: suum cuique per me uti atque frui licet."
+Tum deinde addit: "Vitio vertunt, quia multa egeo; at ego illis quia
+nequeunt egere."--Noct. Attic., lib. xiii. c. 23.
+
+[35] Ovid "Rem. Am." l. 749.
+
+[36] Nash seems, from various parts of his works, to have been well read
+in what are called, though not very properly in English, the burlesque
+poets of Italy. This praise of poverty in the reply of Ver to the
+accusation of Summer is one proof of his acquaintance with them. See
+"Capitolo sopra l'epiteto della poverta, a Messer Carlo Capponi," by
+Matteo Francesi in the Rime Piacevoli del Berni, Copetta, Francesi, &c.,
+vol. ii. p. 48. Edit. Vicenza, 1609--
+
+    "In somma ella non ha si del bestiale,
+    Com' altri stima, perche la natura
+    Del poco si contenta, e si prevale," &c.
+
+[37] [Jesus.]
+
+[38] Sir J. Hawkins, in his "Hist. Music," iv. 479, contends that the
+_recorder_ was the same instrument as that we now term a _flageolet_.
+Some have maintained that it is the _flute_. [See Dyce's "Glossary" to
+his second edit. of _Shakespeare_, in v.]
+
+[39] Chaucer [if at least he had anything to do with the poem,]
+translates _day's-eye_, or _daisy_, into _margarete_ in French,
+in the following stanza from his "Flower and the Leaf"--
+
+    "Whereto they enclined everichon
+    With great reverence and that full humbly,
+    And at the lust there began anon
+    A lady for to sing right womanly
+    A bargaret in praising the _day's-eye_,
+    For as, methought, among her notes swete,
+    She said, _Si douce est la margarete_."
+
+[40] Nash seems often to have quoted from memory, and here he has either
+coupled parts of two lines, so as to make one, or he has invented a
+beginning to the ending of Ovid's "Metam.," ii. 137. [The author seems
+merely to have introduced scraps of Latin, without much regard to their
+juxtaposition.]
+
+[41] [A common subject at shows.]
+
+[42] [A _jeu-de-mots_ on the scale in music and the Latin word _sol_.]
+
+[43] [Some play on words is here probably meant. _Eyesore_ quasi
+_eye-soar_.]
+
+[44] It may be doubtful whether this is the right word. Old copy,
+_sonne_.
+
+[45] [Old copy, _baddest_.]
+
+[46] [Old copy, _Heber_.]
+
+[47] The quarto reads--
+
+    "And as for poetry, _woods_ eloquence."
+
+It is no doubt a misprint for _words' eloquence_, or the eloquence of
+words.
+
+[48] [Old copy, _source_. The emendation was suggested by Collier.]
+
+[49] [Former edits.--"Envy envieth not outcries unrest."
+And so the 4to.]
+
+[50] [Old copy, _slight_.]
+
+[51] On this subject Camden tells us: "There was both this summer (1592)
+and the last so great a drought all England over, that the fields were
+burnt, and the fountains dried up, and a great many beasts perish'd
+everywhere for want of water. The Thames likewise, the noblest river of
+all Britain, and which has as full and large a tide as any in Europe
+(for it flows twice a day above sixty miles from the mouth of it, and
+receives an increase from the mixture of many other streams and rivers
+with it), was, however, sunk to that degree (to the wonder of all men)
+on the 5th September, that a man might ride over it near London Bridge,
+so shallow was the channel."
+
+[52] There seems to be no account of this flood, unless it was that
+which occurred in the autumn of 1579. See Stow's "Annals," edit. 1615,
+fol. 686, and Collier's "Extr. from Stat. Reg.," ii. 105. There was also
+a great partial flood in 1571; but it is not mentioned as having
+affected the Thames.
+
+[53] i.e., Persons who had drunk the Thames water fell ill.
+
+[54] Guesses.
+
+[55] _Had I wist_ is _had I thought_; and the words are often met with
+as the reproof of imprudence. So afterwards again in this play--
+
+    "Young heads count to build on _had I wist_."
+
+[56] Skelton wrote a humorous doggrel piece called the "Tunning of
+Elinor Rummin," which is here alluded to.
+
+[57] This anecdote is from Aulus Gellius, "Noct. Attic.,"
+lib. xvii. c. 9--
+
+"Asiam tune tenebat imperio rex Darius: is Histiaeus, cum in Persia
+apud Darium esset, Aristagorae cuipiam res quasdam occultas nuntiare
+furtivo scripto volebat: comminiscitur opertum hoc literarum admirandum.
+Servo suo diu oculos aegros habenti capillum ex capite omni, tanquam
+medendi gratia, deradit, caputque ejus leve in literarum formas
+compungit: his literis, quae voluerat, perscripsit: hominem postea,
+quoad capillus adolesceret, domo continuit: ubi id factum est, ire ad
+Aristagoram jubet; et cum ad eum, inquit, veneris, mandasse me dicito,
+ut caput tuum, sicut nuper egomet feci, deradat. Servus ut imperatum
+erat, ad Aristagoram venit, mandatumque domini affert: atque ille id
+non esse frustra ratus, quod erat mandatum, fecit: ita literae
+perlatae sunt."
+
+Herodotus "Terps," c. 35, tells the story somewhat differently. The
+following is Mr Beloe's translation of it:--
+
+"Whilst he was in this perplexity, a messenger arrived from Histiaeus at
+Susa, who brought with him an express command to revolt, the particulars
+of which were impressed in legible characters upon his skull. Histiaeus
+was desirous to communicate his intentions to Aristagoras; but as the
+ways were strictly guarded, he could devise no other method. He
+therefore took one of the most faithful of his slaves, and inscribed
+what we have mentioned upon his skull, being first shaved; he detained
+the man till his hair was again grown, when he sent him to Miletus,
+desiring him to be as expeditious as possible: Aristagoras being
+requested to examine his skull, he discovered the characters which
+commanded him to commence a revolt. To this measure Histiaeus was
+induced by the vexation he experienced from his captivity at Susa."
+
+It is pretty evident that Nash took Aulus Gellius as his authority, from
+the insertion of the circumstance of the defective sight of the servant,
+which certainly is important, as giving Histiaeus an excuse for shaving
+his head.
+
+[58] Peter Bales, who is here immortalised, has also received honourable
+mention in Holinshed's Chronicle. He was supposed by Evelyn to be the
+inventor of shorthand, but that art was discovered some years earlier by
+Dr Timothy Bright, who is better known as the author of "A Treatise of
+Melancholy," which was first published in 1586. Bales was born in 1547,
+and many of the incidents of his life have come down to us; for while
+the lives of poets and philosophers are left in obscurity, the important
+achievements of a writing-master are detailed by contemporaries with
+laborious accuracy. Mr D'Israeli, in his "Curiosities of Literature,"
+has not scrupled to devote many pages to Bales's contests for
+superiority with a rival penman of the name of Johnson. Bales was the
+improver of Dr Bright's system, and, according to his own account in his
+"Writing Schoolmaster," he was able to keep pace with a moderate
+speaker. He seems to have been engaged in public life, by acting as
+secretary where caligraphy was required; and he was at length accused of
+being concerned in the plot of Lord Essex; but he was afterwards
+vindicated, and punished his accuser. The greatest performance, that in
+which his exalted fame may most securely rest, was the writing of the
+Lord's Prayer, Creed, Decalogue, with two Latin prayers, in the compass
+of a penny. Brachygraphy had arrived at considerable perfection soon
+after 1600, and in Webster's "Devil's Law Case," there is a trial scene,
+in which the following is part of the dialogue--
+
+    SANITONELLA. Do you hear, officers?
+    You must take special care that you let in
+    No _brachygraphy_ men to take notes.
+
+    1st OFFICER. No. sir.
+
+    SANITONELLA. By no means:
+    We cannot have a cause of any fame,
+    But you must have some scurvy pamphlets and lewd ballads
+    Engendered of it presently.
+
+In Heywood's "Pleasant Dialogues and Dramas," 1637, he complains that
+some persons by stenography had drawn the plot of his play, and put it
+into print; but he adds (which certainly does not tell much in favour of
+the perfection of the art as then practised) that it was "scarce one
+word true."
+
+[59] In the margin opposite "Sol should have been beholding to the
+barber, and not to the beard-master," the words "_Imberbis Apollo_,
+a beardless poet," are inserted in the margin.
+
+[60] From what is said here, and in other parts of the play, we may
+conclude that it was performed either by the children of St Paul's, of
+the Queen's Chapel, or of the Revels. Afterwards Will Summer, addressing
+the performers, says to them: "Learn of him, you _diminutive urchins_,
+how to behave yourselves in your vocations," &c. The epilogue is spoken
+by a little boy, who sits on Will Summer's knee, and who, after it is
+delivered, is carried out.
+
+[61] [See Keightley's "Mythology of Ancient Greece and Italy," p. 411,
+edit. 1854.]
+
+[62] [In allusion to the proverb.]
+
+[63] _Arre_ is meant to indicate the snarling of a dog.
+
+[64] So Machiavelli, in his complete poem, "Dell' Asino d'Oro," makes
+the Hog, who is maintaining the superiority of the brute creation to
+man, say of beasts in general--
+
+    "Questa san meglior usar color che sanno
+    Senz' altra disciplina per se stesso
+    Seguir lor bene et evitar lor danno."--Cap. viii.
+
+[65] [Old copy, _I, and his deep insight_.]
+
+[66] An allusion to Sebastian Brandt's "Ship of Fools," translated by
+Alexander Barclay.
+
+[67] So in "the second three-man's song," prefixed to Dekker's
+"Shoemaker's Holiday," 1600, though in one case the bowl was _black_, in
+the other _brown_--
+
+    "_Trowl the bowl_, the jolly _nut-brown_ bowl;
+      And here, kind mate, to thee!
+    Let's sing a dirge for Saint Hugh's soul,
+      And drown it merrily_."
+
+It seems probable that this was a harvest-home song, usually sung by
+reapers in the country: the chorus or burden, "Hooky, hooky," &c. is
+still heard in some parts of the kingdom, with this variation--
+
+    "Hooky, hooky, we have shorn,
+    And bound what we did reap,
+    And we have brought the harvest home,
+    To make bread good and cheap."
+
+Which is an improvement, inasmuch as harvests are not brought home
+_to town_.
+
+[68] Shakespeare has sufficiently shown this in the character of
+Francis, the drawer, in "Henry IV. Part I."
+
+[69] [A play on the double meaning of the word].
+
+[70] In the original copy this negative is by some accident thrust into
+the next line, so as to destroy at once the metre and the meaning. It is
+still too much in the first line.
+
+[71] This expression must allude to the dress of Harvest, which has many
+ears of wheat about it in various parts. Will Summer, after Harvest goes
+out, calls him, on this account, "a bundle of straw," and speaks of his
+"thatched suit."
+
+[72] A line from a well-known ballad of the time.
+
+[73] [Old copy, _attract_.]
+
+[74] In allusion to the ears of corn, straw, &c., with which he was
+dressed.
+
+[75] Old copy, _God's_.
+
+[76] The exclamations of a carter to his horse. In "John Bon and Mast.
+Person" (Hazlitt's "Popular Poetry," iv. 16), it is _haight, ree_.
+
+[77] Old copy, _had_.
+
+[78] i.e., Cheated.
+
+[79] A play upon the similarity of sound between _vetches_ and
+_fetches_. In the old copy, to render it the more obvious, they are
+spelt alike.
+
+[80] Mr Todd found this word in Baret's "Alveary," 1580, as well as in
+Cotgrave; but he quotes no authority for the signification he attaches
+to it--viz., a _lubber_. Nash could have furnished him with a quotation:
+it means an idle lazy fellow.
+
+[81] Alluding to the attraction of straw by jet. See this point
+discussed in Sir Thos. Brown's "Vulgar Errors," b. ii. c. 4.
+
+[82] [Old copy, _I had_.]
+
+[83] [Old copy, _there_.]
+
+[84] This song is quoted, and a long dissertation inserted upon it, in
+the notes to "Henry IV. Part II." act v. sc. ii., where Silence gives
+the two last lines in drinking with Falstaff. _To do a man right_ was a
+technical expression in the art of drinking. It was the challenge to
+pledge. None of the commentators on Shakespeare are able to explain at
+all satisfactorily what connection there is between _Domingo_ and a
+drinking song. Perhaps we should read Domingo as two words, i.e., _Do_
+[mine] _Mingo_.
+
+[85] [Old copy, _patinis_.]
+
+[86] Horace, lib. i. car. 37--
+
+    "Nunc est bibendum, nunc pede libero
+    Pulsanda tellus."
+
+[87] [Old copy, _epi_.]
+
+[88] [A line out of a ballad.]
+
+[89] Micher, in this place, signifies what we now call a flincher: in
+general, it means a truant--one who lurks and hides himself out of the
+way. See Mr Gifford's short note on Massinger's "Guardian," act iii.
+sc. v., and Mr Steevens' long note on Shakespeare's "Henry IV. Part I."
+act ii. sc. 4.
+
+[90] [Friesland beer. See "Popular Antiquities of Great Britain,"
+vol. ii. p. 259.]
+
+[91] [See Hazlitt's "Proverbs," 1869, p. 271.] Properly _super ungulum_,
+referring to knocking the jack on the thumb-nail, to show that the
+drinker had drained it. Ben Jonson uses it in his "Case is Altered:"
+"I confess Cupid's carouse; he plays _super nagulum_ with my liquor of
+life."--Act iv. sc. 3.--_Collier_.
+
+[92] This was the common cry of the English soldiers in attacking an
+enemy: we meet with it in Marlowe's "Edward II." where Warwick exclaims--
+
+    "Alarum to the fight!
+    _St George for England_, and the Baron's right!"
+
+So also in Rowley's "When you see me, you know me," 1605: "King Arthur
+and his Knights of the Round Table that were buried in armour are alive
+again, crying _St George for England_! and mean shortly to conquer Rome."
+
+[93] From the insertion of _Toy_ in this song instead of _Mingo_, as it
+stands on the entrance of Bacchus and his companions, we are led to
+infer that the name of the actor who played the part of Will Summer was
+_Toy_: if not, there is no meaning in the change. Again, at the end of
+the piece, the epilogue says in express terms: "The great fool Toy hath
+marred the play," to which Will Summers replies, "Is't true, Jackanapes?
+Do you serve me so?" &c. Excepting by supposing that there was an actor
+of this name, it is not very easy to explain the following expressions
+by Gabriel Harvey, as applied to Greene, in his "Four Letters and
+Certain Sonnets, 1592," the year when Nash's "Summer's Last Will and
+Testament" was performed: "They wrong him much with their epitaphs and
+solemn devices, that entitle him not at the least _the second Toy_ of
+London, the stale of Paul's," &c.
+
+[94] _Nipitaty_ seems to have been a cant term for a certain wine. Thus
+Gabriel Harvey, in "Pierce's Supererogation," 1593, speaks of "the
+_Nipitaty_ of the nappiest grape;" and afterwards he says, "_Nipitaty_
+will not be tied to a post," in reference to the unconfined tongues of
+man who drink it.--_Collier_.
+
+[95] A passage quoted in Note 6 to "Gammer Gurton's Needle," from Nash's
+"Pierce Penniless," is precisely in point, both in explaining the word,
+and knocking the cup, can, or jack on the thumb-nail, previously
+performed by Bacchus.
+
+[96] Closely is secretly: a very common application of the word in our
+old writers. It is found in "Albumazar"--
+
+    "I'll entertain him here: meanwhile steal you
+    Closely into the room;"
+
+and in many other places.
+
+[97] Old copy, _Hope_.
+
+[98] Old copy, _as this, like_.
+
+[99] Old copy, _Will_.
+
+[100] The "shepherd that now sleeps in skies" is Sir Philip Sidney, and
+the line, with a slight inversion for the sake of the rhyme, is taken
+from a sonnet in "Astrophel and Stella," appended to the "Arcadia"--
+
+      "Because I breathe not love to every one,
+      Nor do I use set colours for to wear,
+      Nor nourish special locks of vowed hair,
+    Nor give each speech a full point of a groan,
+    The courtly nymphs, acquainted with the moan
+      Of them who in their lips love's standard bear,
+      'What he?' say they of me, 'now I dare swear
+    He cannot love: no, no; let him alone.'
+    And think so still, so Stella know my mind:
+      Profess, indeed, I do not Cupid's art;
+    But you, fair maids, at length this true shall find,
+      That his right badge is but worn in the heart.
+    Dumb swans, not chattering pies, do lovers prove:
+    They love indeed who quake to say they love."
+
+--P. 537, edit. 1598.
+
+It may be worth a remark that the two last lines are quoted with a
+difference in "England's Parnassus," 1600, p. 191--
+
+    "Dumb swans, not chattering pies, do lovers prove;
+    They love indeed who _dare not say_ they love."
+
+In the quarto copy of Nash's play the word _swains_ is misprinted for
+_swans_. The introduction to the passage would have afforded Mr Malone
+another instance, had he wanted one, that shepherd and poet were used
+almost as synonymes by Shakespeare's contemporaries.
+
+[101] Perhaps we ought to read _feign_ instead of _frame_; but _frame_
+is very intelligible, and it has therefore not been altered.
+
+[102] The quarto gives this line thus--
+
+    "Of secrets more desirous _or_ than men,"
+
+which is decidedly an error of the press.
+
+[103] [Old copy, every.]
+
+[104] [Old copy, true hell.]
+
+[105] See act i. sc. 3 of "Macbeth"--
+
+    2D WITCH. I'll give thee a wind.
+
+    1ST WITCH. Thou art kind.
+
+    3D WITCH. And I another.
+
+From the passage in Nash's play, it seems that Irish and Danish witches
+could sell winds: Macbeth's witches were Scotish.
+
+[106] [Old copy, _party_.]
+
+[107] [Old copy, _Form'd_.]
+
+[108] As usual, Nash has here misquoted, or the printer has omitted a
+word. Virgil's line is--
+
+    "_Fama malum, quo non aliud velocius ullum_."
+
+--"Aeneid," iv. 174.
+
+Gabriel Harvey, replying in 1597, in his "Trimming of Thomas Nash,
+Gentleman" (written in the name of Richard Litchfield, the
+barber-surgeon of Trinity College, Cambridge), also alludes to this
+commonplace: "The virtuous riches wherewith (as broad-spread fame
+reporteth) you are endued, though _fama malum_ (as saith the poet) which
+I confirm," &c. Perhaps this was because Nash had previously employed it,
+or it might be supposed that the barber would have been unacquainted
+with it.
+
+[109] A soldier of this sort, or one pretending to be a soldier, is a
+character often met with in our old comedies, such as Lieutenant
+Maweworm and Ancient Hautboy in "A Mad World, my Masters," Captain Face
+in "Ram-Alley," &c.
+
+[110] [_Dii minores_.]
+
+[111] Pedlar's French was another name for the cant language used by
+vagabonds. What pedlars were may be judged from the following
+description of them in "The Pedlar's Prophecy," a comedy printed in
+1595, but obviously written either very early in the reign of Elizabeth,
+or perhaps even in that of her sister--
+
+    "I never knew honest man of this occupation.
+    But either he was a dycer, a drunkard, a maker of shift,
+    A picker, or cut-purse, a raiser of simulation,
+    Or such a one as run away with another man's wife."
+
+[112] [Old copy, _by_.]
+
+[113] _Ink-horn_ is a very common epithet of contempt for pedantic and
+affected expressions. The following, from Churchyard's "Choice," sig.
+E e 1., sets it in its true light--
+
+    "As _Ynkehorne_ termes smell of the schoole sometyme."
+
+It went out of use with the disuse of ink-horns. It would be very easy
+to multiply instances where the word is employed in our old writers. It
+most frequently occurs in Wilson's "Rhetoric," where is inserted an
+epistle composed of _ink-horn terms_; "suche a letter as Wylliam Sommer
+himself could not make a better for that purpose. Some will thinke, and
+swere it too, that there never was any suche thing written: well, I will
+not force any man to beleve it, but I will saie thus much, and abyde by
+it too, the like have been made heretofore, and praised above the
+moone." It opens thus--
+
+"Ponderying, expendying, and revolutying with myself, your urgent
+affabilitee, and ingenious capacitee, for mundaine affaires, I cannot
+but celebrate and extolle your magnificall dexteritee above all other;
+for how could you have adopted such illustrate, prerogative, and
+dominicall superioritee, if the fecunditee of your inginie had not been
+so fertile and wonderfull pregnant?"--Fo. 86. edit. 1553. Wilson
+elsewhere calls them "_ink-pot_ terms."
+
+[114] [The popular idea at that time, and long afterwards, of
+Machiavelli, arising from a misconception of his drift in "Il Principe."
+See an article on this subject in Macaulay's "Essays."]
+
+[115] [Old copy, _toucheth_, which may, of course, be right; but the
+more probable word is that here substituted.]
+
+[116] [The "Ebrietatis Encomium."]
+
+[117] [Perhaps the "Image of Idleness," of which there was an edition in
+1581. See Hazlitt's "Handbook," p. 291, and ibid. Suppl.]
+
+[118] Nash alludes to a celebrated burlesque poem by Francisco Copetta,
+entitled (in the old collection of productions of the kind, made in
+1548, and many times afterwards reprinted), "Capitolo nel quale si
+lodano le Noncovelle." Some of the thoughts in Rochester's well-known
+piece seem taken from it. A notion of the whole may be formed from the
+following translation of four of the _terze rime_--
+
+    "_Nothing_ is brother to primaeval matter,
+    'Bout which philosophers their brains may batter
+    To find it out, but still their hopes they flatter.
+
+    "Its virtue is most wondrously display'd,
+    For in the Bible, we all know, 'tis said,
+    God out of _nothing_ the creation made.
+
+    "Yet _nothing_ has nor head, tail, back, nor shoulder,
+    And tho' than the great _Dixit_ it is older,
+    Its strength is such, that all things first shall moulder.
+
+    "The rank of _nothing_ we from this may see:
+    The mighty Roman once declared that he
+    Caesar or _nothing_ was resolv'd to be."
+
+[But after all, had not Nash more probably in his recollection Sir
+Edward Dyer's "Praise of Nothing," a prose tract printed in 1585?]
+
+[119] [See Hazlitt's "Handbook," v. Fleming.]
+
+[120] [Alluding to the "Grobianus et Grobiana" of Dedekindus.]
+
+[121] Ovid's lines are these--
+
+    "Discite, qui sapitis, non quae nos scimus inertes,
+    Sed trepidas acies, et fera castra sequi."
+
+--"Amorum," lib. iii. el. 8.
+
+[122] The author of "The World's Folly," 1615, uses _squitter-wit_ in
+the same sense that Nash employs _squitter-book_: "The _primum mobile_,
+which gives motion to these over-turning wheels of wickedness, are
+those mercenary _squitter-wits_, miscalled poets."
+
+In "The Two Italian Gentlemen," the word _squitterbe-book_, or
+_squitter-book_, is found, and with precisely the same signification
+which Nash gives it--
+
+    "I would mete with the scalde _squitterbe-booke_ for this geare."
+
+[123] His _nown_, instead of his _own_, was not an uncommon corruption.
+So Udall--"Holde by his yea and nay, be his _nowne_ white sonne."
+
+[124] [Old copy, _Fuilmerodach_.]
+
+[125] _Regiment_ has been so frequently used in the course of these
+volumes, in the sense of government or rule, that it is hardly worth
+a note.
+
+[126] This is, of course, spoken ironically, and of old, the expression
+_good fellow_ bore a double signification, which answered the purpose of
+Will Summer. Thus, in Lord Brooke's "Caelica," sonnet 30--
+
+    "_Good fellows_, whom men commonly doe call.
+    Those that do live at warre with truth and shame."
+
+Again, in Heywood's "Edward IV. Part I.," sig. E 4--
+
+    "KING EDWARD. Why, dost thou not love a _good fellow_?
+
+    "HOBS. No, _good fellows_ be _thieves_."
+
+[127] Henry Baker was therefore the name of the actor who performed the
+part of Vertumnus.
+
+[128] The joke here consists in the similarity of sound between
+_despatch_ and _batch_, Will Summers mistaking, or pretending to
+mistake, in consequence.
+
+[129] [Old copy, _Sybalites_.]
+
+[130] This is still, as it was formerly, the mode of describing the
+awkward bowing of the lower class. In the "Death of Robert Earl of
+Huntington," 1601, when Will Brand, a vulgar assassin, is introduced
+to the king, the stage direction to the actor in the margin is,
+"_Make Legs_."
+
+[131] A proverb in [Heywood's "Epigrams," 1562. See Hazlitt's
+"Proverbs," 1869, p. 270. Old copy, _love me a little_.]
+
+[132] [Old copy, _deny_.]
+
+[133] The meaning of the word _snudge_ is easily guessed in this place,
+but it is completely explained by T. Wilson, in his "Rhetoric," 1553,
+when he is speaking of a figure he calls _diminution_, or moderating the
+censure applied to vices by assimilating them to the nearest virtues:
+thus he would call "a _snudge_ or _pynche-penny_ a good husband, a
+thrifty man" (fo. 67). Elsewhere he remarks: "Some riche _snudges_,
+having great wealth, go with their hose out at heels, their shoes out at
+toes, and their cotes out at both elbowes; for who can tell if such men
+are worth a grote when their apparel is so homely, and all their
+behavior so base?" (fo. 86.) The word is found in Todd's Johnson, where
+Coles is cited to show that _snudge_ means "one who hides himself in a
+house to do mischief." No examples of the employment of the word by any
+of our writers are subjoined.
+
+[134] Mr Steevens, in a note to "Hamlet," act iv. sc. 5, says that he
+thinks Shakespeare took the expression of _hugger-mugger_ there used
+from North's Plutarch, but it was in such common use at the time that
+twenty authors could be easily quoted who employ it: it is found in
+Ascham, Sir J. Harington, Greene, Nash, Dekker, Tourneur, Ford, &c. In
+"The Merry Devil of Edmonton" also is the following line--
+
+    "But you will to this gear in _hugger-mugger_."
+
+[135] It is not easy to guess why Nash employed this Italian word
+instead of an English one. _Lento_ means lazy, and though an adjective,
+it is used here substantively; the meaning, of course, is that the idle
+fellow who has no lands begs.
+
+[136] i.e., Hates. See note to "Merchant of Venice," act v. sc. 1.
+
+[137] [Old copy, _Hipporlatos_. The emendation was suggested by
+Collier.]
+
+[138] The reader is referred to "Romeo and Juliet," act i. sc. 4,
+respecting the strewing of rushes on floors instead of carpets. Though
+nothing be said upon the subject, it is evident that Back-winter makes a
+resistance before he is forced out, and falls down in the struggle.
+
+[139] [Soiling: a common word in our early writers. Old copy,
+_wraying_.]
+
+[140] _I pray you, hold the book well_, was doubtless addressed to the
+prompter, or as he is called in the following passage, from the
+Induction to Ben Jonson's "Cynthia's Revels," 1601, the _book-holder_:
+one of the children of Queen Elizabeth's chapel is speaking of the poet.
+"We are not so officiously befriended by him as to have his presence in
+the 'tiring house to _prompt_ us aloud, stampe at the _booke-holder_,
+sweare for our properties, curse the poor tire-man, raile the musicke
+out of tune, and sweat for every veniall trespasse we commit, as some
+author would."
+
+[141] [Old copy, _cares_. The word _murmuring_ is, by an apparent error,
+repeated in the 4to from the preceding line.]
+
+[142] [Old copy, _ears_.]
+
+[143] Ready.
+
+[144] This line fixes the date when "Summer's Last Will and Testament"
+was performed very exactly--viz., during Michaelmas Term, 1593; for
+Camden informs us in his "Annals," that in consequence of the plague,
+Michaelmas Term, instead of being held in London, as usual, was held at
+St Albans.
+
+[145]     "Deus, Deus, ille, Menalca!
+    Sis bonus o felixque tuis."
+                 --Virgil "Ecl." v. 64.
+
+[146] These words, which are clearly a stage direction, and which show
+how mere a child delivered the Epilogue, in the old copy are made part
+of the text.
+
+[147] Malone originally supposed the plays to be by Heywood, and so
+treated them. In the last edit. of Shakespeare by Boswell (iii. 99) the
+mistake is allowed to remain, and in a note also "The Downfall of Robert
+Earl of Huntington" is quoted as Heywood's production.
+
+[148] Ritson, in his "Robin Hood," I. li. et seq., gives some
+quotations from them, as by Munday and Chettle.
+
+[149] Mr Gifford fell into an error (Ben Jonson, vi. 320) in stating
+that "The Case is Altered" "should have stood at the head of Jonson's
+works, had chronology only been consulted." In the "Life of Ben Jonson,"
+he refers to Henslowe's papers to prove that "Every Man in his Humour"
+was written in 1596, and in "The Case is Altered," Ben Jonson expressly
+quotes Meres' "Palladia Tamia," which was not published until 1598.
+Nash's "Lenten Stuff," affords evidence that "the witty play of 'The
+Case is Altered'" was popular in 1599.
+
+[150] On the title-page of his translation of "Palmerin of England," the
+third part of which bears date in 1602, he is called "one of the
+Messengers of her Majesty's Chamber;" but how, and at what date he
+obtained this "small court appointment," we are without information.
+Perhaps it was given to him as a reward for his services in 1582.
+
+[151] Munday did not always publish under his own name, and according to
+Ritson, whose authority has often been quoted on this point, translated
+"The Orator, written in French by Alexander Silvayn," under the name of
+Lazarus Piot, from the dedication to which it may be inferred that he
+had been in the army. "A ballad made by Ant. Munday, of the
+encouragement of an English soldier to his fellow mates," was licenced
+to John Charlewood, in 1579.
+
+[152] [See the more copious memoir of Munday by Mr Collier, prefixed to
+the Shakespeare Society's edit. of his "John-a-Kent," &c., 1851.]
+
+[153] That is, no printed copy has yet been discovered, although it may
+have passed through the press.
+
+[154] In Henslowe's MSS. this play is also called, "The First part of
+Cardinal Wolsey."
+
+[155] In 1620 was printed "The World toss'd at Tennis, by Thomas
+Middleton and William Rowley." Perhaps it is the same play, and Munday
+had a share in the authorship of it. [This is not at all probable.]
+
+[156] There is no list of characters prefixed to the old copy.
+
+[157] This forms the Induction to the play, which purports to have been
+written to be performed before Henry VIII., by Sir Thomas Mantle, who
+performed Robin Hood, by Sir John Eltham, who played the part of Little
+John, by Skelton, who acted Friar Tuck, by "Little Tracy," as he is
+called, who supported the character of Maid Marian, and others, whose
+names are not mentioned. The whole is only supposed to be a rehearsal
+prior to the representation of the piece before the king, and in the
+course of it Skelton and Sir John Eltham have various critical and
+explanatory interlocutions. Skelton, it will be observed, also
+undertakes the duty of interpreting the otherwise "inexplicable
+dumb-show." The old copy is not divided into acts and scenes.
+
+[158] [Old copy, _your_.]
+
+[159] [In the old copy this direction is unnecessarily repeated in
+detail.]
+
+[160] [The direction inserted on p. 107 is repeated in full in the 4to.]
+
+[161] This is in some sort a parody upon the well-known proverb, which
+is thus given by Ray--
+
+    "Many talk of Robin Hood, that never shot in his bow,
+     And many talk of Little John, that never did him know."
+
+It is also found in Camden's "Remains," by Philpot, 1636, p. 302, though
+the two lines, obviously connected in sense, are there separated. [See
+also Hazlitt's "Proverbs," 1869, p. 276.]
+
+[162] This sort of verse, from the frequent use of it made by Skelton in
+his poems, acquired the name of _Skeltonic_ or _Skeltonical_. According
+to the manner in which the poet's character is drawn, he could not avoid
+falling into the use of it, even out of its place, in the course of the
+play; and of this a singular instance is given after the capture and
+discovery of Ely, when Sir John Eltham, in one of the interlocutions,
+complains of Skelton that in performing the part of Friar Tuck he fell--
+
+                       "Into the vein
+    Of ribble-rabble rhimes Skeltonical."
+
+In 1589 was published a tract with the following curious title--
+
+    "A Skeltonical salutation,
+    Or condigne gratulation,
+    And just vexation
+    Of the Spanish nation;
+    That in bravado
+    Spent many a crusado
+    In setting forth an Armado
+    England to invado."
+
+The whole piece is in this kind of verse. A copy of it is in the British
+Museum.
+
+Puttenham, speaking of poetry of this sort, says: "Such were the rimes
+of Skelton (usurping the name of Poet Laureat), being in deede but a
+rude, rayling rimer, and all his doings ridiculous; he used both short
+distances and short measures, pleasing onely to the popular eare; in our
+courtly maker we banish them utterly."--_Arte of English Poesie_, 1589,
+p. 69.
+
+[163] Matilda is here, and elsewhere, called Marian, before in fact she
+takes that name; and after she has assumed it, in the course of the play
+she is frequently called Matilda.
+
+[164] [Old copy, _Into_.]
+
+[165] Jest is used in the same sense in "The Spanish Tragedy," act i.,
+where the king exclaims--
+
+    "But where is old Hieronimo, our marshal?
+    He promis'd us, in honour of our guest,
+    To grace our banquet with some pompous _jest_."
+
+Dr Farmer, in reference to the line in "Richard II., act i. sc. 3--
+
+    "As gentle and as jocund as to _jest_,"
+
+quotes the above passage from "The Spanish Tragedy" to show that to
+_jest_, "in old language, means _to play a part in a mask_."
+
+[166] [Old copy, _my_.]
+
+[167] [Old copy, _place_.]
+
+[168] Ritson has the following note upon this sign: "That is, the inn so
+called, upon Ludgate Hill. The modern sign, which, however, seems to
+have been the same 200 years ago, is _a bell_ and _a wild man_; but the
+original is supposed to have been _a beautiful Indian_, and the
+inscription, _La belle Sauvage_. Some, indeed, assert that the inn once
+belonged to a Lady _Arabella Sauvage_; and others that its name
+originally, the _belle_ and _Sauvage_, arose (like the _George and Blue
+Boar_) from the junction of two inns with those respective signs. _Non
+nostrum est tantas componere lites_." "Robin Hood," I. p. liv.
+
+[169] [Old copy, _meant_.]
+
+[170] Little John's _exit_ is marked here in the old copy, but it does
+not take place till afterwards: he first whispers Marian, as we are told
+immediately, _John_ in the original standing for Little John.
+
+[171] i.e., A collection or company, and not, as we now use the word,
+a _kind_ "of fawning sycophants."
+
+[172] i.e., Made a Justice of Peace of him, entitling him to the style
+of _Worship_.
+
+[173] [Old copy, _ran_.]
+
+[174] i.e., "I shall _be even_ with you." So Pisaro in Haughton's
+"Englishmen for my Money," says of his three daughters--
+
+    "Well, I shall find a tune _to meet_ with them."--Sig. E 2.
+
+[175] Alluding to the challenges of the officers who are aiding and
+assisting the Sheriff.
+
+[176] Paris Garden (or as it is printed in the old copy, _Parish_
+Garden), was a place where bears were baited and other animals kept.
+Curtal was a common term for a small horse, and that which Banks owned,
+and which acquired so much celebrity for its sagaciousness, is so called
+by Webster--
+
+    "And some there are
+    Will keep a _curtal_ to show juggling tricks,
+    And give out 'tis a spirit."
+
+--"Vittoria Corombona," [Webster's Works, by Hazlitt, ii. 47.]
+
+_Sib is related to_; and perhaps _the ape's only least at Paris Garden_,
+may apply to Banks's pony. Dekker, in his "Villanies Discovered," 1620,
+mentions in terms "Bankes his Curtal."
+
+[177] In the course of the play John is sometimes called _Earl_ John,
+and sometimes _Prince_ John, as it seems, indifferently.
+
+[178] [Old copy, _deceive_.]
+
+[179] It must be recollected that the Queen and Marian have exchanged
+dresses.
+
+[180] [Old copy, _must_.]
+
+[181] [Old copy, _sovereign's mother, queen_.]
+
+[182] [Old copy, _cankers_]
+
+[183] [Old copy, _thrust_.]
+
+[184] _Haught_ is frequently used for _haughty_, when the poet wants to
+abridge it of a syllable: thus Shakespeare, in "Richard III." act ii.
+sc. 3--
+
+    "And the queen's sons and brothers _haught_ and proud."
+
+He has also "the _haught_ Northumberland" and "the _haught_ Protector."
+
+Kyd in "Cornelia," act iv., also has this line--
+
+    "Pompey, the second Mars, whose _haught_ renown."
+
+[185] [Old copy, _Ah, my good Lord, for, etc_.]
+
+[186] i.e., Shall not _separate_ us till we die. See Gifford's note to
+"The Renegado."--Massinger's Works, ii. 136.
+
+[187] _Palliard_ is to be found in Dryden's "Hind and Panther:"
+_palliardize_ is not in very common use among our old writers. Dekker,
+in his "Bellman of London," 1616, sig. D 2, gives a description of a
+_Palliard_. Tuck's exclamation looks as if it were quoted.
+
+[188] In the old copy, Scarlet and Scathlock are also mentioned as
+entering at this juncture, but they were on the stage before.
+
+[189] The _mistake_ to which Warman alludes is, that Friar Tuck takes
+part with Robin Hood, instead of assisting the Sheriff against him.
+
+[190] This incident, with some variations, is related in the old ballad
+of "Robin Hood rescuing the Widow's _three_ sons from the Sheriff, when
+going to be executed." See Ritson's "Robin Hood," ii. 151.
+
+[191] The old copy has a blank here; but whether it was so in the
+original MS., whether a line has dropped out by accident, or whether it
+was meant that Much should be suddenly interrupted by Robin Hood, must
+be matter of conjecture.
+
+[192] So printed in the old copy, as if part of some poetical narrative.
+
+[193] i.e., _Gang_. So written by Milton, Jonson, and many of our best
+authors.
+
+[194] [Old copy, _all your_.]
+
+[195] [Old copy, _never wife_.]
+
+[196] [Old copy, _in a loath'd_.]
+
+[197] [Own, from the Latin _proprius_.]
+
+[198] _To lie at the ward_ was, and is still, a term in fencing; thus
+Fairfax, translating the fight between Tancred and Argantes in the 6th
+book of Tasso's "Jerusalem Delivered," says--
+
+    "Close _at his surest ward_ each champion _lieth_."
+
+--"Godfrey of Bulloigne," 1600.
+
+[199] The _exit_ of Salisbury is not marked, but it of course takes
+place here.
+
+[200] It seems singular that the author of this play should confound two
+such persons as the Shoemaker of Bradford, who made all comers "vail
+their staves," and George-a-Greene, the Pinner of Wakefield; yet such is
+the case in the text. The exploits of both are celebrated in the play of
+"The Pinner of Wakefield" (in Dyce's editions of Greene's Works), which
+seems to have been popular. Nevertheless Henslowe in his MSS. speaks of
+George-a-Greene as one dramatic piece, and of "The Pinner of Wakefield"
+as another, as if they were two distinct heroes. See "Malone's
+Shakespeare," by Boswell, iii. 300. Munday also makes Scathlock and
+Scarlet two separate persons. [Munday does not confound the Pinder of
+Wakefield with the Bradford hero, for he expressly distinguishes between
+them; but he errs in giving the latter the name of George-a-Greene.]
+
+[201] To _record_, as applied to birds, is synonymous to the verb to
+_sing_: thus in "The Spanish Tragedy," act ii.--
+
+    "Hark, madam, how the _birds record_ by night."
+
+Shakespeare so employs the word in his "Two Gentlemen of Verona," act v.
+sc. 4, and in the notes upon the passage more than sufficient instances
+are collected.
+
+[202] The 4to reads "the lawless _Rener_" [the _n_ being misprinted
+for _u_].
+
+[203] _Mort_ was the old cant word for a _wench_, and was synonymous
+with _doxy_, which is still sometimes in use. An explanation, for such
+as require it, may be found in Dekker'a "Bellman of London," ed. 1616,
+sig. N.
+
+[204] Mr Todd, in his "Dictionary," thus explains the word _belive_:
+"Speedily, quickly; it is still common in Westmoreland for _presently_,
+which sense, implying a little delay, like our expression of _by and
+by_, was formerly the general acceptation of the word." Spenser uses it
+not unfrequently--
+
+    "Perdie, Sir Knight," said then the enchanter _b'live_,
+    "That shall I shortly purchase to your bond."
+
+--"Faerie Queene," b. ii. c. iii. st. 18.
+
+[205] _Manchet_ is fine white bread: _panis candidior et purior_.
+
+[206] It seems agreed by the commentators on the word _proface_ (which
+Shakespeare uses in "Henry IV. Part II.," act v. sc. 3), that it means
+in fact what Robin Hood has already said: "Much good may it do you." It
+is disputed whether it be derived from the French or the Italian; Mr
+Todd gives _prouface_ as the etymology, and Malone _pro vi faccia_, but
+in fact they are one and the same. It occurs in "The Widow's Tears," act
+iv. sc. 1, where Ero is eating and drinking in the tomb. [Compare Dyce's
+"Shakespeare," 1868, Gloss, in v.]
+
+[207] The 4to terms them _poting_ sticks, and so sometimes they were
+called, instead of _poking_ sticks. They were used to plait and set
+ruffs.
+
+[208] The old copy here repeats, in part, the preceding stage direction,
+viz., _Enter Friar like a pedlar, and Jenny_, which must be an error, as
+they are already on the stage; in fact, only Sir Doncaster and his armed
+followers enter. The _exit_ of Robin Hood, with Marian and Fitzwater, is
+not noticed.
+
+[209] i.e., Thrive.
+
+[210] The rhyme is made out by reading _certainly_, but the old copy,
+[which is printed as prose.] has it _certain_.
+
+[211] This stage direction, like many others, is not marked.
+
+[212] So in "Henry VI. Part III." act iii. sc. 3: "Did I _impale_ him
+with the regal crown?" This use of the word is common.
+
+[213] [Old copy, _light_.]
+
+[214] See Mr Steevens' note on "Henry VIII.," act v. sc. 3.
+
+[215] These two lines clearly belong to the Prior, though the old copy
+omits his name before them.
+
+[216] i.e., Vengeance.
+
+[217] [Old copy, _Souldans_.]
+
+[218] In the old copy _soldiour's_.
+
+[219] See Mr Gifford's note (6) to "The Maid of Honour," Massinger's
+Works, iii. 47, for an explanation of the origin and use of this
+expression of contempt. See also Malone's remarks upon the passage in
+"Twelfth Night," act iii. sc. 4: "He is a knight dubb'd with an
+unhatch'd rapier and on _carpet_ consideration."
+
+[220] On the standard by which Leicester was attended on his entrance,
+no doubt the crest of that family, viz., a bear and ragged staff, was
+represented. To this the queen refers when she exclaims--
+
+    "Were this _bear_ loose, how he would tear our maws."
+
+[221] [Old copy, _Bear, thou hast_. Leicester was accompanied by his
+ancient, whose entrance is marked above.]
+
+[222] _Quite_ is frequently used for _requite_: as in Massinger's "Old
+Law," act ii. sc. 2--
+
+    "In troth, Eugenia, I have cause to weep too;
+    But when I visit, I come comfortably,
+    And look to be so _quited_."
+
+[223] Although the old copy mentions no more at the beginning of this
+interview than _Enter Leicester, drum and ancient_, yet according to
+this speech he must either have been more numerously attended, or some
+of his followers came upon the stage during his dispute with the king
+and queen.
+
+[224] The return of Leicester and Richmond, after their _exit_ just
+before, is not mentioned in the 4to.
+
+[225] [Old copy, _Come off, off_.]
+
+[226] _Guests_ were often formerly spelt _guess_, whether it were or
+were not necessary for the rhyme.
+
+[227] The stage direction in the original is only _Enter Robin_.
+
+[228] This must have been spoken aside to Robin Hood.
+
+[229] [Old copy, _soon_.]
+
+[230] [This passage appears to point to some antecedent drama not at
+present known.]
+
+[231] The 4to has it _Damn'd Judaism_, but the allusion is to the
+treachery of Judas. The jailer of Nottingham afterwards calls Warman
+Judas.
+
+[232] [Old copy, _him_.]
+
+[233] In the old copy this is made a part of what Warman speaks, which
+is a mistake, as is evident from the context.
+
+[234] Her _exit_ and re-entrance are not marked in the old copy. Perhaps
+she only speaks from a window.
+
+[235] ["A term of contempt," says Halliwell in v.; but does it not
+refer strictly to a card-sharper?]
+
+[236] He blunders. Of course he means "when tidings came to his ears."
+He does not make much better of his prose.
+
+[237] Current.
+
+[238] This is from the old ballad, "The Jolly Pinder of Wakefield, with
+Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John," with variations--
+
+    "At Michaelmas next my cov'nant comes out
+      When every man gathers his fee;
+    Then I'll take my blue blade all in my hand,
+      And plod to the greenwood with thee."
+
+--Ritson's "Robin Hood," ii. 18.
+
+[239] It is evident that Friar Tuck here gives John a sword.
+
+[240] [Light, active. See Nares, edit. 1859, in v.]
+
+[241] The origin of _amort_ is French, and sometimes it is written
+_Tout-a-la-mort_, as in "The Contention between Liberality and
+Prodigality," 1602, sig. B, as pointed out in a note to "Ram Alley."
+
+[242] [Query, best hanged? He refers to the ex-sheriff.]
+
+[243] _Defy_ is here used in the sense of _refuse_, which was not
+uncommon: thus in the "Death of Robert Earl of Huntington," we have this
+passage, "Or, as I said, for ever I _defy_ your company." In the "Four
+'Prentices of London," act i. sc. 1, the old Earl of Boulogne says--
+
+    "Vain pleasures I abhor, all things _defy_,
+    That teach not to despair, or how to die."
+
+Other instances are collected in a note to the words, "I do _defy_ thy
+conjuration," from "Romeo and Juliet," act v. sc. 3.
+
+[244] Their entrance is not marked in the original.
+
+[245] [Old copy, _sweet_.]
+
+[246] It will be seen from the introduction to this play, that Munday
+and others, according to Henslowe, wrote a separate play under the title
+of "The Funeral of Richard Cordelion." [The latter drama was not written
+till some months after this and the ensuing piece, and was intended as a
+sort of sequel to the plays on the history of Robin Hood.]
+
+[247] Misprinted _Dumwod_ in the old copy.
+
+[248] Two lines in the Epilogue might be quoted to show that only one
+author was concerned in it--
+
+    "Thus is Matilda's story shown in act,
+    And rough-hewn out by _an_ uncunning hand."
+
+But probably the assertion is not to be taken strictly; or if it be, it
+will not prove that Chettle had no hand, earlier or later, in the
+authorship. Mr Gifford in his Introduction to Ford's Works, vol. i.
+xvi., remarks very truly, that we are not to suppose from the
+combination of names of authors "that they were always simultaneously
+employed in the production of the same play;" and Munday, who was
+perhaps an elder poet than Chettle, may have himself originally written
+both parts of "The Earl of Huntington," the connection of Chettle with
+them being subsequent, in making alterations or adapting them to the
+prevailing taste.
+
+[249] See "The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington," _Introd_. pp. 95,
+96, ante.
+
+[250] See "Restituta," ii. 367 (note).
+
+[251] "Bibl. Poet." 159. [But see Hazlitt's "Handbook," v. C. II.]
+
+[252] [Henslowe's "Diary," 1845, p. 147. See also Collier's "Memoirs of
+the Actors in Shakespeare's Plays," p. 111.]
+
+[253] Introduction to "Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington," pp. 101,
+102.
+
+[254] With the letters R.A. on the title-page. [But surely it is very
+doubtful whether the play printed in 1615 (and again in 1663) is the
+same as that mentioned by Henslowe.]
+
+[255] [Unless it be the drama printed in 1604 under the title of the
+"Wit of a Woman."]
+
+[256] [Possibly a revival, with alterations, of Edwardes' play.]
+
+[257] There is no list of characters prefixed to the old 4to.
+
+[258] i.e., Skelton, who is supposed by the author to have acted the
+part of Friar Tuck, and who, when first he comes on the stage, is
+without his gown and hood.
+
+[259] [Old copy, _Hurt_. The two are inside plotting together. See
+infra.]
+
+[260] [The Queen Mother.]
+
+[261] _Wight_ means _active_, or (sometimes) _clever_. It may be matter
+of conjecture whether "_white_ boy," "_white_ poet," "_white_ villain,"
+&c., so often found in old dramatists, have not this origin.
+
+[262] It is very obvious that Much begins his answer at "Cry ye mercy,
+Master King," but his name is omitted in the old 4to.
+
+[263] The old copy adds here _Exeunt_, and a new scene is marked; but
+this is a mistake, as Robin Hood just afterwards converses with the
+Prior, Sir Doncaster, and Warman, without any new entrance on their
+part. They retire to the back of the stage.
+
+[264] Warman is not mentioned, but we find him on the stage just
+afterwards, and he probably enters with Robin Hood. The entrance of
+Friar Tuck is also omitted.
+
+[265] i.e., Winding his horn.
+
+[266] The 4to, reads "Pity of _mind_, thine," &c.
+
+[267] See the last scene of the first part of this play.
+
+[268] The 4to merely reads _exit_.
+
+[269] "And yet more medicinal is it than that _Moly_
+      That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave."
+                                 --Milton's "Comus."
+
+There are several kinds of moly, and one of them distinguished among
+horticulturists as Homer's moly. Sir T. Brown thus quaintly renders two
+lines in the "Odyssey" relating to it--
+
+    "The gods it _Moly_ call whose root to dig away
+    Is dangerous unto man, but gods they all things may."
+
+[270] [Displeased.]
+
+[271] [Old copy, _whindling_. See Halliwell, _v. Whimlen_. There is also
+_windilling_; but the word is one of those terms of contempt used by
+early writers rather loosely.]
+
+[272] These two lines are taken, with a slight change, from the ballad
+of "The Jolly Finder of Wakefield." See Ritson's "Robin Hood," ii. 16--
+
+    "In Wakefleld there lives a jolly pinder,
+    In Wakefield all on a green," &c.
+
+[273] [Old copy, _monuments_.]
+
+[274] Ritson ("Notes and Illustrations to Robin Hood," i. 62) observes
+correctly that Fitzwater confounds one man with another, and that Harold
+Harefoot was the son and successor of Canute the Great.
+
+[275] [Old copy, _them_.]
+
+[276] "_In_ a trice" is the usual expression. See a variety of instances
+collected by Mr Todd in his Dictionary, but none of them have it "_with_
+a trice," as in this place. The old copy prints the ordinary
+abbreviation for _with_, which may have been misread by the printer.
+[_With_ is no doubt wrong, and has been altered.]
+
+[277] The scenes are marked, though incorrectly, in the old copy thus
+far; but the rest of the play is only divided by the _exits_ or
+entrances of the characters.
+
+[278] Jenny, a country wench, uses the old word _straw'd_; but when the
+author speaks afterwards in the stage direction, he describes Marian as
+"_strewing_ flowers." Shakespeare has _o'er-strawed_ in "Venus and
+Adonis," perhaps for the sake of the rhyme.
+
+[279] [i.e., Over.]
+
+[280] [Old copy, _of_.]
+
+[281] Formerly considered an antidote for poison. Sir Thomas Brown was
+not prepared to contradict it: he says, that "Lapis Lasuli hath in it a
+purgative faculty, we know: that _Bezoar is antidotal_, Lapis Judaicus
+diuretical, Coral antipileptical, we will not deny."--"Vulgar Errors,"
+edit. 1658, p. 104. He also (p. 205) calls it the _Bezoar nut_, "for,
+being broken, it discovereth a kernel of a leguminous smell and taste,
+bitter, like a lupine, and will swell and sprout if set in the ground."
+Harts-horn shavings were also considered a preservative against poison.
+
+[282] [From what follows presently it may be inferred that the king
+temporarily retires, although his exit or withdrawal is not marked.]
+
+[283] The old word for _convent_: Covent-Garden, therefore, is still
+properly called.
+
+[284] The _grate_ of a vintner was no doubt what is often termed in old
+writers the _red lattice, lettice_, or _chequers_, painted at the doors
+of vintners, and still preserved at almost every public-house. See note
+24 to "The Miseries of Enforced Marriage."
+
+[285] The 4to reads--
+
+                    "In the highway
+    That joineth to the _power_."
+
+[286] Robin Hood advises his uncle to insist upon his plea of
+_privilegium clericale_, or benefit of clergy--
+
+    "Stand to your clergy, uncle; save your life."
+
+"Originally the law was held that no man should be admitted to the
+privilege of clergy, but such as had the _habitum et tonsuram
+clericalem_. But in process of time a much wider and more comprehensive
+criterion was established; every one that could read (a mark of great
+learning in those days of ignorance and her sister superstition) being
+accounted a clerk or _clericus_, and allowed the benefit of clerkship,
+though neither initiated in holy orders, nor trimmed with the clerical
+tonsure."--Blackstone's "Com.," iv. b. iv, ch. 28. We have already seen
+that the king and nobles in this play called in the aid of Friar Tuck to
+read the inscription on the stag's collar, though the king could
+ascertain that it was in Saxon characters.
+
+[287] This account of the death of Robin Hood varies from all the
+popular narratives and ballads. The MS. Sloan, 715, nu. 7, f. 157,
+agrees with the ballad in Ritson, ii. 183, that he was treacherously
+bled to death by the Prioress of Kirksley.
+
+[288] The first act has already occupied too much space, but it was
+difficult to divide it: in fact, as Friar Tuck says, it is a "short
+play," complete in itself. What follows is an induction to the rest of
+the story, the Friar continuing on the stage after the others have gone
+out.
+
+[289] The 4to. reads thus--
+
+    "Apollo's _master doone_ I invocate,"
+
+but probably we ought to read--
+
+    "Apollo's _masterdom_ I invocate,"
+
+and the text has been altered accordingly. _Masterdom_ means _power,
+rule_; to invocate Apollo's masterdom is therefore to invocate Apollo's
+power to assist the Friar in his undertaking.
+
+[290] _Enter in black_ is the whole of the stage direction, and those
+who enter are afterwards designated by the letters _Cho_. Perhaps the
+principal performers arrive attired in black, and are mentioned as
+_Chorus_, one speaking for the rest. _Cho_. may, however, be a misprint
+for _Chester_, who was sent in to "attire him."
+
+[291] [In the new edit. of Nares the present passage is cited for
+_ill-part_, which is queried to mean _ill-conditioned_. Perhaps it is
+equivalent to _malapert_.]
+
+[292] [Old copy, _de Brun_.] "John married Isabel, the daughter and
+heiress of the Earl of Angoulesme, who was before affianced to _Hugh le
+Brun_, Earl of March (a peer of great estate and excellence in France),
+by the consent of King Richard, in whose custody she then was."
+--Daniel's "History of England."
+
+[293] [Old copy, _lose_.]
+
+[294] _Led by the F.K. and L_. means, as afterwards appears, the _French
+king_, and _Lord_ Hugh le Brun, Earl of North March.
+
+[295] The entrance of Bonville is omitted in the 4to.
+
+[296] These _Lords_, as we afterwards find, are old Aubrey de Vere,
+Hubert, and Mowbray.
+
+[297] [Old copy, _troops_.]
+
+[298] [Old copy, _triumphs_.]
+
+[299] Lodge was in the habit of using the adjective for the substantive,
+especially _fair_ for _fairness_; one example is enough--
+
+    "Some, well I wot, and of that sum full many,
+    Wisht or my _faire_ or their desire were lesse."
+                    --_Scilla's Metamorphosis_, 1589.
+
+See also note to "The Wounds of Civil War" (vol. vii. p. 118).
+
+Shakespeare may be cited in many places besides the following--
+
+                      "My decayed _fair_
+    A sunny look of his would soon repair."
+                          --_Comedy of Errors_, act ii. sc. 1.
+
+See Steevens's note on the above passage.
+
+[300] The King calls him in the old copy _good Oxford_, but Oxford is
+not present, and from what follows we see that the command was given to
+Salisbury. The same mistake is again made by Hubert in this scene.
+Salisbury must be pronounced _Sal'sb'ry_.
+
+[301] [Accepted.]
+
+[302] [Old copy, _muddy_.]
+
+[303] [A very unusual phrase, which seems to be used here in the sense
+of _masculine passions or properties_.]
+
+[304] In the old copy it stands thus--
+
+    "Yes, but I do: I think not Isabel, Lord,
+    The worse for any writing of Brunes."
+
+[In the MS. both Lord and Le were probably abbreviated into L., and
+hence the misprint, as well as misplacement, in the first line.]
+
+[305] [i.e., You may count on her wealth as yours. We now say to build
+_on_, but to build _of_ was formerly not unusual.]
+
+[306] See the notes of Dr Johnson, Steevens, and other commentators on
+the words in the "Comedy of Errors," act ii. sc. 1--"Poor I am but his
+_stale_." [See also Dyce's "Shakespeare Glossary," 1868, in v.]
+
+[307] The stage directions are often given very confusedly, and (taken
+by themselves) unintelligibly, in the old copy, of which this instance
+may serve as a specimen: it stands thus in the 4to--"_Enter Fitzwater
+and his son Bruce, and call forth his daughter_."
+
+[308] [A feeder of the Wye. Lewis's "Book of English Rivers," 1855,
+p. 212.]
+
+[309] Alluding most likely to the "Andria" of Terence, which had been
+translated [thrice] before this play was acted; the first time [in 1497,
+again about 1510, and the third time] by Maurice Kiffin in 1588. [The
+former two versions were anonymous. See Hazlitt's "Handbook," p. 605.]
+
+[310] _Holidom_ or _halidom_, according to Minsheu (Dict. 1617), is "an
+old word used by old country-women, by manner of swearing by my
+_halidome_; of the Saxon word _haligdome, ex halig, sanctum_, and _dome,
+dominium aut judicium_." Shakespeare puts it into the mouth of the host
+in the "Two Gentlemen of Verona," act iv. sc. 2.
+
+[311] The entrance of Richmond clearly takes place here, but in the 4to
+he is said to come in with Leicester.
+
+[312] [See Hazlitt's "Proverbs," p. 22.]
+
+[313] [In the 4to and former editions this and the following nine words
+are given to Richmond.]
+
+[314] Meaning that her father Fitzwater [takes her, she having declined
+to pair off with the king.] The whole account of the mask is confused in
+the old copy, and it is not easy to make it much more intelligible in
+the reprint.
+
+[315] [The proverb is: "There are more maids than Malkin." See Hazlitt's
+"Proverbs," p. 392.]
+
+[316] [Old copy, _Had_.]
+
+[317] This line will remind the reader of Shakespeare's "multitudinous
+seas incarnardine," in "Macbeth," act ii. sc. 1.
+
+[318] This answer unquestionably belongs to the king, and is not, as the
+4to gives it, a part of what Leicester says. It opens with an allusion
+to the crest of Leicester, similar to that noticed in the "Downfall of
+Robert Earl of Huntington."
+
+[319] [Old copy, _by God's_.]
+
+[320] [Old copy, _armed men_.]
+
+[321] [Old copy, _shall_.]
+
+[322] [An allusion to the proverb.]
+
+[323] This and other passages refer probably to the old play of "King
+John," printed in 1591, [or to Shakespeare's own play which, though not
+printed till 1623, must have been familiar to the public, and more
+especially to dramatic authors.]
+
+[324] In this line; in the old copy, _Salisbury_ is made to call himself
+_Oxford_.
+
+[325] The 4to reads _Enter or above Hugh, Winchester. Enter or above_
+means, that they may either enter on the stage, or stand above on the
+battlements, as may suit the theatre. With regard to the names _Hugh_
+and _Winchester_, they are both wrong; they ought to be _Hubert_ and
+_Chester_, who have been left by the king to _keep good watch_. When,
+too, afterwards Chester asks--
+
+    "What, Richmond, will you prove a runaway?"--
+
+the answer in the old copy is--
+
+    "From thee, good _Winchester_? now, the Lord defend!"
+
+It ought to be--
+
+    "From thee, good _Chester_? now the Lord defend!"
+
+And it is clear that the measure requires it. The names throughout are
+very incorrectly given, and probably the printer composed from a copy in
+which some alterations had been made in the _dramatis personae_, but
+incompletely. Hence the perpetual confusion of _Salisbury_ and _Oxford_.
+
+[326] The scene changes from the outside to the inside of the castle.
+
+[327] [Without muscle, though muscle and bristle are strictly distinct.]
+
+[328] To _tire_ is a term in falconry: from the Fr. _tirer_, in
+reference to birds of prey tearing what they take to pieces.
+
+[329] The 4to prints _Ilinnus_.
+
+[330] [Old copy, _a deed_.]
+
+[331] The 4to has it _Elinor_, but it ought to be _Isabel_. The previous
+entrance of the Queen and Matilda is not marked.
+
+[332] [_Fairness_, in which sense the word has already occurred in this
+piece.]
+
+[333] [i.e., Champion.]
+
+[334] Matilda's name is omitted in the old copy, but the errors of this
+kind are too numerous to be always pointed out.
+
+[335] [Old copy, _Triumvirates_.]
+
+[336] Nothing can more clearly show the desperate confusion of names in
+this play than this line, which in the 4to stands--
+
+    "It's Lord _Hugh Burgh_ alone: _Hughberr_, what newes?"
+
+In many places Hubert is only called _Hugh_.
+
+[337] Company or collection.
+
+[338] _Head of hungry wolves_ is the reading of the original copy: a
+"_herd_" of hungry wolves would scarcely be proper, but it may have been
+so written. [_Head_ may be right, and we have not altered it, as the
+word is occasionally used to signify a gathering or force.]
+
+[339] In the old copy the four following lines are given to King John.
+
+[340] [Old copy, _warres_.]
+
+[341] [Escutcheon.]
+
+[342] [Abided.]
+
+[343] [Old copy, _prepare_.]
+
+[344] This word is found in "Henry VI., Part II." act v. sc. 1, where
+young Clifford applies it to Richard. Malone observes in a note, that,
+according to Bullokar's "English Expositor," 1616, _stugmatick_
+originally and properly signified "a person who has been _branded_ with
+a hot iron for some crime." The name of the man to whom Hubert here
+applies the word, is _Brand_.
+
+Webster, in his "Vittoria Corombona," applies the term
+metaphorically:--
+
+    "The god of melancholy turn thy gall to poison,
+    And let the _stigmatic_ wrinkles in thy face.
+    Like to the boisterous wares in a rough tide,
+    One still overtake another."
+
+[345] [Are faulty.]
+
+[346] [Old copy, _seld_.]
+
+[347] [The printer has made havoc with the sense here, which can only be
+guessed at from the context. Perhaps for _go_ we should read _God_, in
+allusion to the woman's protestations. Yet even then the passage reads
+but lamely.]
+
+[348] [_These_ may be right; but perhaps the author wrote _his_. By
+his--i.e., God's--nails, is a very common oath.]
+
+[349] [i.e., Mete or measure out a reward to her.]
+
+[350] [To swear by the fingers, or the _ten commandments_, as they were
+often called, was a frequent oath.]
+
+[351] [Old copy, _lamback'd_.]
+
+[352] The 4to says, _between the monk and the nun_.
+
+[353] [Query, _mother Bawd_; or is some celebrated procuress of the time
+when this play was written and acted meant here?]
+
+[354] To swear by the cross of the sword was a very common practice, and
+many instances are to be found in D.O.P. See also notes to "Hamlet," act
+i. sc. 5.
+
+[355] i.e., Secretly, a very common application of the word in our old
+writers.
+
+[356] [In allusion to the proverb, "Maids say nay, and take."]
+
+[357] Here, according to what follows, Brand steps forward and addresses
+Matilda. Hitherto he has spoken _aside_.
+
+[358] See Mr Gilford's note on the words _rouse_ and _carouse_ in his
+Massinger, i. 239. It would perhaps be difficult, and certainly
+needless, to add anything to it.
+
+[359] "Nor I to stir before I see the end,"
+
+belongs to the queen, unquestionably, but the 4to gives it to the
+Abbess, who has already gone out.
+
+[360] [Labour, pain.]
+
+[361] The reading of the old copy is--
+
+    "Oh _pity, mourning_ sight! age pitiless!"
+
+_Pity-moving_ in a common epithet, and we find it afterwards in this
+play used by young Bruce--
+
+    "My tears, my prayers, my _pity-moving_ moans."
+
+[362] [Old copy, _wrath_.]
+
+[363] This servant entered probably just before Oxford's question, but
+his entrance is not marked.
+
+[364] To _pash_, signifies to crush or dash to pieces. So in the "Virgin
+Martyr," act ii. sc. 2--
+
+    "With Jove's artillery, shot down at once,
+    To _pash_ your gods in pieces."
+
+See Mr Gifford's note upon this passage, and Reed's note on the same
+word in "Troilus and Cressida," act ii. sc. 3.
+
+[365] The 4^o has it--
+
+    "_May_ an example of it, honest friends;"
+
+but _make_ is certainly the true reading.
+
+[366] _Bannings_ are _cursings_. Hundreds of examples might be added to
+those collected by Steevens in a note to "King Lear," act ii. sc. 3. It
+is a singular coincidence that _ban_, signifying a _curse_, and _ban_, a
+public notice of _marriage_, should have the same origin.
+
+[367] The words, _at one door_, are necessary to make the stage
+direction intelligible, but they are not found in the original.
+
+[368] [Here used apparently in the unusual sense of _scene_.]
+
+[369] This line is quoted by Steevens in a note to "Measure for
+Measure," act v. sc. 1, to prove that the meaning of _refel_ is
+_refute_.
+
+[370] Sir William Blunt's entrance is not marked in the old copy.
+
+[371] To _blin_ is to _cease_, and in this sense it is met with in
+Spenser and other poets. Mr Todd informs us that it is still in use in
+the north of England. Ben Jonson, in his "Sad Shepherd," converts the
+verb into a substantive, "withouten _blin_."
+
+[372] _Powder'd_ is the old word for salted: it is in this sense
+Shakespeare makes Falstaff use it, when he says: "If you embowel me
+to-day, I'll give you leave to _powder_ me and eat me to-morrow."
+
+[373] i.e., _l'ouvert_ or opening--
+
+    "Ne lightned was with window nor with _lover_,
+    But with continuall candle-light."
+
+--Spenser's "Faerie Queene," b. vi. c. x.
+
+[374] The sense is incomplete here: perhaps a line has been lost, or
+Leicester suddenly recollects that Bruce has possession of Windsor
+Castle, and warns him not to relinquish it.
+
+[375] An abridgment of _Hubert_, apparently for the sake of the metre.
+
+[376] [i.e., Spleen, indignation.]
+
+[377] In this line there is, in the old copy, a curious and obvious
+misprint: it stands in the 4^o--
+
+    "She was indeed of _London_ the honour once."
+
+Instead of--
+
+    "She was indeed of _love_ the honour once."
+
+The king is translating and commenting on the motto on the pendant, as
+is quite evident from the manner in which he proceeds. Besides, the
+measure requires a word of one syllable.
+
+[378] [Old copy, _in life_.]
+
+[379] The lords again _stand in council_ as before, while the king fills
+up the interval to the audience.
+
+[380] This is probably addressed to the king, with whom Oxford has been
+talking.
+
+[381] [Pox].
+
+[382] [Old copy, _had_.]
+
+[383] [Old copy, _hath_.]
+
+[384] [The inn, mentioned in the former scene, must be supposed to
+remain, as Tenacity presently goes up to it, and knocks at the gate.]
+
+[385] [Fired?]
+
+[386] [Old copy, _than_.]
+
+[387] [Wretches.]
+
+[388] [Old copy, _Yoo_.]
+
+[389] [Old copy. _That_.]
+
+[390] [Dance.]
+
+[391] [Then.]
+
+[392] [Paltrily.]
+
+[393] A term of contempt for a woman. The hostess has entered the
+kitchen of the inn in the cook's absence, and finds matters not quite
+satisfactory.
+
+[394] Old copy adds, _and Dandelyne_; but it is evident from the close
+of the preceding scene, that the Hostess does not quit the stage.
+
+[395] See Halliwell in v.; but the explanation there given hardly
+suits the present context, where the word appears to be used in the
+sense of _a term, a period_.
+
+[396] Apparently part of the song; its meaning is not clear.
+
+[397] [Reward].
+
+[398] [Pet.]
+
+[399] [Welcome.]
+
+[400] [This is one of the elegant terms which are exchanged between
+Gammer Gurton and Mother Chat.]
+
+[401] [Although Tom is marked in the old copy as entering at the
+commencement of the scene, be does not really come in till now.]
+
+[402] [Old copy adds, _and Fortune_; but Fortune does not enter now: she
+is in her castle, and presently calls to Vanity from a window.]
+
+[403] [Although it appears from what immediately follows that Vanity had
+assembled Fortune's vassals, we are not necessarily to conclude that the
+latter enter here. They would rather wait outside.]
+
+[404] [Bull-calf.]
+
+[405] [Orig. reads, _fat fatox_.]
+
+[406] [This seems merely a word coined for the sake of the rhyme.]
+
+[407] [Of courtesy.]
+
+[408] [Swoon.]
+
+[409] [Old copy, _net_.]
+
+[410] [Old copy, _to emloy_.]
+
+[411] [In the old copy this direction is given (very imperfectly) thus:
+_The constables make hue and cry_.]
+
+[412] [In the old copy this passage is thus exhibited--
+
+    HOST. Where dwell these constables?
+
+    CON. Why? what's the matter, friend, I pray?
+
+    HOST. Why, thieves, man, I tell thee, come away.
+    Thieves, i' faith, wife, my scull, my Iacke, my browne bill.
+
+    CON. Come away quickly.
+
+    HOST. Dick, Tom, Will, ye hoorsons, make ye all ready and haste.
+    But let me heare, how stands the case?    [_A pace after_.
+
+Where the confusion in the distribution of the speeches seems tolerably
+evident. The constable made hue and cry, in order to raise the country,
+and make a levy of such persons as were bound to assist.
+
+[413] [Old copy, _to_.]
+
+[414] [Old copy, _fasting_.]
+
+[415] [Old copy, _Yes_.]
+
+[416] [Petition.]
+
+[417] [Then, probably, as it certainly was later on, a favourite haunt
+of footpads.]
+
+[418] [Pancras.]
+
+[419] [No edition except that of 1662 has yet come to light.]
+
+[420] Nobody who reads this play can doubt that it is much older than
+1662, the date borne by the earliest known edition of it. It has every
+indication of antiquity, and the title not the least of these. "Grim,
+the Collier of Croydon," is a person who plays a prominent character in
+the humorous portion of Edwards's "Damon and Pithias," which was printed
+in 1571, and acted several years earlier. The Grim of the present play
+is obviously the same person as the Grim of "Damon and Pithias," and in
+both he is said to be "Collier for the king's own Majesty's mouth."
+Chetwood may therefore be right when he states that it was printed in
+1599; but perhaps that was not the first edition, and the play was
+probably acted before "Damon and Pithias" had gone quite out of memory.
+In the office-book of the Master of the Revels, under date of 1576, we
+find a dramatic entertainment entered, called "The Historie of the
+Colyer," acted by the Earl of Leicester's men; but it was doubtless
+Ulpian Fulwell's "Like will to Like, quod the Devil to the Colier,"
+printed in 1568. The structure, phraseology, versification, and language
+of "Grim, the Collier of Croydon," are sufficient to show that it was
+written before 1600: another instance to prove how much the arrangement
+of the plays made by Mr Reed was calculated to mislead. Some slight
+separate proofs of the age of this piece are pointed out in the new
+notes; but the general evidence is much more convincing. The
+versification is interlarded with rhymes like nearly all our earlier
+plays, and the blank verse is such as was written before Marlowe's
+improvements had generally been adopted. When the play was reprinted in
+1662, some parts of it were perhaps a little modernised. The
+introduction of Malbecco and Paridell into it, from Spenser's "Faerie
+Queene," may be some guide as to the period when the comedy was first
+produced.--_Collier_. [The play has now, for the first time, been placed
+in its true chronological rank.]
+
+[421] See note to "Gammer Gurton's Needle" [iii. 245].
+
+[422] The story of this play is taken in part from Machiavel's
+"Belphegor."--_Pegge_.
+
+The excellent translation of this humorous old story by Mr T. Roscoe
+("Italian Novelists," ii. 272) will enable the reader to compare the
+play with it. He will find that in many parts the original has been
+abandoned, and the catastrophe, if not entirely different, is brought
+about by different means. The "Biographia Dramatica" informs us that
+Dekker's "If it be not Good the Devil is in it" is also chiefly taken
+from the same novel; but this is an error arising out of a hint by
+Langbaine. Dekker's play is the famous history of Friar Rush in many of
+its incidents.--_Collier_.
+
+[423] [He was _born_ at or near Glastonbury in 925. See Wright's "Biog.
+Brit. Lit.," Anglo-Saxon period, p. 443, et seq.]
+
+[424] "Legenda Aurea, or the Golden Legend," translated out of the
+French, and printed by Caxton in folio, 1483.
+
+[425] In the old copy it is printed _Tortass_, but it means _portass,
+portesse_, or _portace_, the breviary of the Roman Catholic Church.
+Thus, in Greene's "Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay"--
+
+    "I'll take my _portace_ forth, and wed you here."
+
+Spenser uses the word, "Faerie Queene," b. i. c. iv.--
+
+    "And in his hand his _portesse_ still he bare
+    That much was worne," &c.
+
+See also note to "New Custom" [iii. 24].--_Collier_.
+
+[426] [Old copy and former edits., _Dunston's_.]
+
+[427] See the story of Malbecco in Spenser's "Faerie Queene," b. iii. c.
+ix., &c.
+
+[428] The old copy has it _reap_, but probably we ought to read _heap_;
+to _reap an endless catalogue_ is hardly sense.--_Collier_.
+
+[429] _Cleped_ is _called, named_. So in Milton's "L'Allegro," i. 11--
+
+    "But come, thou goddess fair and free,
+    In heaven _yclep'd_ Euphrosyne."
+
+[430] _Colling_ is embracing round the neck. _Dare Brachia cervici_, as
+Baret explains it in his "Alvearie," voce _colle_. The word is
+frequently to be found in ancient writers. So in Erasmus' "Praise of
+Follie," 1549, sig. B 2: "For els, what is it in younge babes that we
+dooe kysse go, we doe _colle_ so; we do cheryshe so, that a very enemie
+is moved to spare and succour this age." In "Wily Beguiled," 1606: "I'll
+clasp thee, and clip thee; _coll thee_, and kiss thee, till I be better
+than nought, and worse than nothing." In "The Witch," by Middleton--
+
+    "When hundred leagues in aire we feast and sing,
+    Daunce, kysse, and _coll_, use everything."
+
+And in Breton's "Woorkes of a Young Wit," 1577, p. 37--
+
+    "Then for God's sake, let young folkes _coll_ and kisse,
+    When oldest folkes will thinke it not amisse."
+
+[431] Old copy, _upon_.
+
+[432] So in Ben Jonson's "Catiline," act iv. sc. 3--
+
+    "I have those eyes and ears shall still keep guard
+    And _spial_ on thee, as they've ever done,
+    And thou not feel it."
+
+And in Ascham's "Report and Discourse of the State of Germany," p. 31:
+"He went into France secretly, and was there with Shirtly as a common
+launce knight, and named hymselfe Captaine Paul, lest the Emperours
+_spials_ should get out hys doynges."
+
+[433] In the county of Essex, the mother-church of Harwich. "In the same
+yeare of our Lord 1582 there was an Idoll named _The Roode of
+Dovercourt_, whereunto was much and great resort of people. For at that
+time there was a great rumour blown abroad amongst the ignorant sort,
+that the power of _The Idoll of Dovercourt_ was so great that no man had
+power to shut the church doore where he stood, and therefore they let
+the church dore, both night and day, continually stand open, for the
+more credit unto the blinde rumour."--Fox's "Martyrs," ii. 302. This is
+the account given by Fox of this celebrated image; who adds that four
+men, determining to destroy it, travelled ten miles from Dedham, where
+they resided, took away the Rood and burnt it, for which act three of
+them afterwards suffered death.
+
+[434] Old copy, _way_.--_Pegge_.
+
+[435] A play on the double meaning of the word, an old game and the act
+of kissing.
+
+[436] [Obtain.]
+
+[437] [Old copy, and former edits., _bear_.]
+
+[438] See note to "Gammer Gurton's Needle" [ii. 202].
+
+[439] In 1662, when this play was either first printed or reprinted, it
+would have been absurd to talk of _America_ as _new_ or newly
+discovered.--_Collier_.
+
+[440] [This passage reminds us of No. 60 in "A C. Mery Talys," Hazlitt's
+"Jest Books," i. 87.]
+
+[441] See note to "Damon and Pithias" [iv. 21].
+
+[442] Old copy, _work_.--_Pegge_.
+
+[443] i.e., O Lord.
+
+[444] i.e., So happen in the issue. So in Ben Jonson's "New Inn," act
+iv. sc. 4--
+
+    "You knew well
+    It could not _sort_ with any reputation
+    Of mine."
+
+And in Massinger's "Maid of Honour," act ii. sc. 1--
+
+    "All _sorts_ to my wishes."
+
+[445] Old copy, _for_.--_Pegge_.
+
+[446] i.e., _As lief they as I_. So in "Eastward Hoe:" "I'd as _live_ as
+anything I could see his farewell."--_Collier_.
+
+[447] It is observed by Dr Warburton (note on "Romeo and Juliet," act i.
+sc. 1), that to _carry coals_ was a phrase formerly in use to signify
+_bearing of injuries_; and Dr Percy has given several instances in proof
+of it. To those may be added the following from Ben Jonson's "Every Man
+out of his Humour," act v. sc. 3: "Take heed, Sir Puntarvolo, what you
+do; _he'll bear no coals_, I can tell you, o' my word."
+
+[448] i.e., Akercock, as he is called in the preceding scenes. See a
+later note to this play [p. 442 _infra_].--_Collier_.
+
+[449] _Suppose_ is here used in the sense of _conjecture_ or
+_apprehension_. Gascoigne translated a comedy of Ariosto, and called it
+"The Supposes." The employment of the verb for the substantive in the
+present instance is an evidence of the antiquity of this play. The
+following parallel is from Gascoigne's Prologue: "The verye name wherof
+may peraduenture driue into euerie of your heades, a sundrie _Suppose_,
+to _suppose_ the meaning of our _supposes_."--_Collier_.
+
+[450] i.e., Plot or contrivance. Tarlton produced a piece called "The
+Plat-form of the Seven Deadly Sins;" and in "Sir J. Oldcastle," by
+Drayton and others, first printed in 1600, it is used with the same
+meaning as in the text, viz., a contrivance for giving effect to the
+conspiracy.
+
+    "There is the _plat-form_, and their hands, my lord,
+    Each severally subscribed to the same."
+
+--_Collier_.
+
+[451] [A common proverb.]
+
+[452] [The ordinary proverb is, "The devil is _good_ when he is
+pleased."]
+
+[453] The Italian for _How do you do_?
+
+[454] _Skinker_ was a _tapster_ or _drawer_. Prince Henry, in "The First
+Part of Henry IV." act ii. sc. 4, speaks of an _underskinker_, meaning
+an _underdrawer_. Mr Steevens says it is derived from the Dutch word
+_schenken_, which signifies to fill a cup or glass. So in G. Fletcher's
+"Russe Commonwealth," 1591, p. 13, speaking of a town built on the south
+side of Moscow by Basilius the emperor, for a garrison of soldiers, "to
+whom he gave priviledge to drinke mead and beer, at the drye or
+prohibited times, when other Russes may drinke nothing but water, and
+for that cause called this newe citie by the name of Naloi, that is,
+_skinck_, or _poure in_." Again, in Marston's "Sophonisba," iii. 2--
+
+    "Ore whelme me not with sweets, let me not drink,
+    Till my breast burst, O Jove, thy nectar _skinke_."
+
+And in Ben Jonson's "Poetaster," act iv. sc. 5--
+
+    "ALB. I'll ply the table with nectar, and make 'em friends.
+
+    "HER. Heaven is like to have but a lame _skinker_."
+
+And in his "Bartholomew Fair," act ii. sc. 2: "Froth your cans well i'
+the filling, at length, rogue, and jog your bottles o' the buttock,
+sirrah; then _skink_ out the first glass ever, and drink with all
+companies."
+
+[455] Suspicion.
+
+[456] [Be in accord with reason.]
+
+[457] [Old copy, _call'st_.]
+
+[458] Similar to this description is one in Marlowe's "Edward II.," act
+i.
+
+[459] Old copy, _are_.
+
+[460] [Old copy, _knew_.]
+
+[461] See note to "Cornelia" [v. 188].
+
+[462] In Shakespeare's "Coriolanus," Sicinius asks Volumnia, "Are you
+mankind?" On which Dr Johnson remarks that "_a mankind woman_ is a woman
+with the roughness of a man; and, in an aggravated sense, a woman
+_ferocious, violent, and eager to shed blood_." Mr Upton says _mankind_
+means _wicked_. See his "Remarks on Ben Jonson," p. 92. The word is
+frequently used to signify _masculine_. So in [Beaumont and Fletcher's]
+"Love's Cure; or, The Martial Maid," act iv. sc. 2--
+
+    "From me all _mankind_ women learn to woo."
+
+In Dekker's "Satiromastix"--
+
+    "My wife's a woman; yet
+    'Tis more than I know yet, that know not her;
+    If she should prove _mankind_, 'twere rare; fie! fie!"
+
+And in Massinger's "City Madam," act ii. sc. 1--
+
+    "You brach,
+    Are you turn'd _mankind_?"
+
+[463] [Old copy, _strumpets_.]
+
+[464] Whether I will or not. This mode of expression is often found in
+contemporary writers. So in Dekker's "Bel-man of London," sig. F 3:
+"Can by no meanes bee brought to remember this new friend, yet _will
+hee, nill he_, to the taverne he sweares to have him."
+
+It may be worth remark that it is also found in "Damon and Pithias,"
+from which the character of Grim is taken.
+
+[465] [Old copy, _reake_.]
+
+[466] Sometimes called _Pucke_, alias _Hobgoblin_. In the creed of
+ancient superstition he was a kind of merry sprite, whose character and
+achievements are recorded in a ballad printed in Dr Percy's "Reliques of
+Ancient Poetry." [See "Popular Antiquities of Great Britain," iii. 39,
+et seq.]
+
+[467] Pretty or clever. So in Warner's "Albion's England," b. vi. c. 31,
+edit. 1601--
+
+    "There was a _tricksie_ girl, I wot, albeit clad in gray."
+
+The word is also used in Shakespeare's "Tempest," act v. sc. 1. See Mr
+Steevens's note thereon.
+
+[468] This is one of the most common, and one of the oldest, proverbs in
+English. Ulpian Fulwell['s play upon it has been printed in our third
+volume.] It is often met with in our old writers, and among others, in a
+translation from the French, printed in 1595, called, "A pleasant Satyre
+or Poesie, wherein is discovered the Catholicon of Spain," &c., the
+running title being "A Satyre Menippized." It is to be found on pp. 54
+and 185. Having mentioned this tract, we may quote, as a curiosity, the
+following lines, which probably are the original of a passage for which
+"Hudibras" is usually cited as the authority--
+
+    "Oft he that doth abide
+    Is cause of his own paine;
+    But he that flieth in good tide
+    Perhaps may fight againe."
+
+--_Collier_.
+
+[469] [A word unnoticed by Nares and Halliwell. The latter cites
+_haust_, high, doubtless from the French _haut_. So _hauster_ may be the
+comparative, and signify higher.]
+
+[470] Till now printed _Puzzles_ as if because it had puzzled Dodsley
+and Reed to make out the true word. In the old copy it stands _Puriles_;
+and although it may seem a little out of character for Grim to quote
+Latin, yet he does so in common with the farmer in Peele's "Edward I.,"
+and from the very same great authority. "'Tis an old saying, I remember
+I read it in Cato's '_Pueriles_' that _Cantabit vacuus coram latrone
+viator_," &c.--_Collier_. [The work referred to in the text was called
+"Pueriles Confabulatiunculae; or, Children's Talke," of which no early
+edition is at present known. But it is mentioned in "Pappe with an
+Hatchet" (1589), and in the inventory of the stock of John Foster, the
+York bookseller (1616).]
+
+[471] Head. See note to "Gammer Gurton's Needle" [iii. 242].
+
+[472] Shall never cease, stop, or leave of. So in Ben Jonson's "Staple
+of News," Intermean after 4th act--
+
+    "He'll never _lin_ till he be a gallop."
+
+Mr Whalley proposes to read _blin_. "The word," says he, "is Saxon, and
+the substantive _blin_, derived from _blinnan_, occurs in the 'Sad
+Shepherd.' Yet the word occurs in Drayton in the sense of stopping or
+staying, as it is used here by our poet--
+
+    "'Quoth Puck, my liege, I'll never _lin_,
+    Hut I will thorough thick and thin.'
+
+"--'Court of Fairy.' So that an emendation may be unnecessary, and _lin_,
+the same as _leave_, might have been in common use."
+
+The latter conjecture is certainly right, many instances maybe produced.
+As in "The Return from Parnassus," act iv. sc. 3--
+
+    "Fond world, that ne'er think'st on that aged man,
+    That Ariosto's old swift-paced man,
+    Whose name is Time, who never _lins_ to run,
+    Loaden with bundles of decayed names."
+
+In "A Chast Mayd in Cheapside," by Middleton: "You'll never _lin_ 'till
+I make your tutor whip you; you know how I serv'd you once at the free
+schoole in Paul's Church Yard." And in, "More Dissemblers besides
+Women," by the same, act iii. sc. I: "You nev'r _lin_ railing on me,
+from one week's end to another." [_Lin_ is common enough in the old
+romances.]
+
+[473] See [Dyce's "Middleton," iii. 97, and] Note 20 to the "Match at
+Midnight."--_Collier_.
+
+[474] This must have been addressed to the audience, and may be adduced
+as some slight evidence of the antiquity of the play, as in later times
+dramatists were not guilty of this impropriety. The old morality of "The
+Disobedient Child" has several instances of the kind; thus, the son says
+to the spectators--
+
+    "See ye not, my maysters, my fathers advyse?
+    Have you the lyke at any time harde?"
+
+Again, the Man-cook--
+
+    "Maysters, this woman did take such assaye,
+    And then in those dayes so applyed her booke."
+
+--_Collier_ [ii. 276, 284].
+
+[475] See Note 25 to "Ram Alley."--_Collier_. [In "Romeo and Juliet,"
+i. 3, the Nurse says, "Nay, I do bear a brain," i.e., I do bear in mind,
+or recollect (Dyce's edit. 1868, vi. 398). Reed's explanation, adopted
+by Dyce, seems hardly satisfactory.]
+
+[476] See note to "Gammer Gorton's Needle," iii. 205. Query, if the
+passages there quoted may not refer to this very character of Akercock
+and his dress, as described in act i. sc. 1.--_Collier_. [Probably not,
+as this play can hardly have been in existence go early, and the
+character and costume of Robin Goodfellow were well understood, even
+before "Gammer Gurton's Needle" was written.]
+
+[477] So in "The Return from Parnassus," act v. sc. 4--
+
+    "I'll make thee run this lousy case, _I wis_."
+
+And again in Massinger's "City Madam," act iv. sc. 4--
+
+              "Tis more comely,
+    _I wis_, than their other whim-whams."
+
+[478] "He had need of a long spoon that eats with the devil," is a
+proverbial phrase. See [Hazlitt's "Proverbs," 1869, p. 176.] So
+Stephano, in the "Tempest," act ii. sc. 2, alluding to this proverb,
+says, "This is a devil, and no monster: I will leave him; I have no
+_long spoon_." See also "Comedy of Errors," act iv. sc. 3, and Chaucer's
+"Squier's Tale," v. 10916--
+
+    "Therefore behoveth him a _ful long spone_,
+    That shall ete with a fiend."
+
+[479] [To vomit. One of the jests of Scogin relates how that celebrated
+individual "told his wife he had _parbraked_ a crow"--a story which
+occurs in the "Knight of the Tour-Landry" (Wright's edit., p. 96). See
+also Fry's "Bibl. Memoranda," 1816, p. 337. A note in edition 1825
+says:] This is a word which I apprehend is very seldom found in writers
+subsequent to the year 1600. It is used by Skelton, and sometimes by
+Spenser. See Todd's "Johnson's Dict."
+
+[480] [Old copy, _He falls_; but Akercock evidently disappears
+simultaneously.]
+
+[481] [Old copy, _names_.]
+
+[482] [Old copy, _song_.]
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SELECT COLLECTION OF OLD ENGLISH
+PLAYS, VOL. VIII (4TH EDITION)***
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