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| author | pgww <pgww@lists.pglaf.org> | 2025-10-02 12:31:00 -0700 |
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| committer | pgww <pgww@lists.pglaf.org> | 2025-10-02 12:31:00 -0700 |
| commit | f8e139cf436a2ab3b52943217f6c516dde6cf7c2 (patch) | |
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Initial commit: The Puritan Widow (ebook 4214)
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/4214-0.txt b/4214-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4cc1a22 --- /dev/null +++ b/4214-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4170 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 4214 *** + + + + +THE PURITAINE WIDDOW + +THE +ACTORS +NAME +In the Play Intitled +The Puritan Widow. + +The Scene London. + +Lady Plus, a Citizens Widow. +Frances, +Moll, her two Daughters. +Sir Godfrey, Brother-in-Law to the Widow Plus. +Master Edmond, Son to the Widow Plus. +George Pye-boord, a Scholar and a Citizen. +Peter Skirmish, an old Soldier. +Captain Idle, a Highway-man. +Corporal Oath, a vain-glorious Fellow. +Nichols St. Antlings, +Simon St. Mary Overies, +Frailty, Serving-men to the Lady Plus. +Sir Oliver Muck-hill, a Suitor to the Lady Plus. +Sir John Penny-Dub, a Suitor to Moll. +Sir Andrew Tipstaff, a Suitor to Frances. +The Sheriff of London. +Puttock, +Ravenshaw, Two of the Sheriffs Sergeants. +Dogson, a Yeoman. +A Noble-man. +A Gentleman Citizen. +Officers. + + +ACTUS PRIMUS. + +Scene I. A Garden behind the widow’s house. + +[Enter the Lady Widdow-Plus, her two daughters Frank and Moll, +her husband’s Brother an old Knight Sir Godfrey, with her Son +and heir Master Edmond, all in mourning apparel, Edmond in a +Cyrpess Hat. The Widdow wringing her hands, and bursting out +Into passion, as newly come from the Burial of her husband. + + +WIDOW. +Oh, that ever I was borne, that ever I was borne! + +SIR GODFREY. +Nay, good Sister, dear sister, sweet sister, be of good +comfort; show your self a woman, now or never. + +WIDOW. +Oh, I have lost the dearest man, I have buried the sweetest +husband that ever lay by woman. + +SIR GODFREY. +Nay, give him his due, he was indeed an honest, virtuous, +Discreet, wise man,—he was my Brother, as right as right. + +WIDOW. +O, I shall never forget him, never forget him; he was a man +so well given to a woman—oh! + +SIR GODFREY. +Nay, but, kind Sister, I could weep as much as any woman, +but, alas, our tears cannot call him again: me thinks you +are well read, Sister, and know that death is as common as +Homo, a common name to all men:—a man shall be taken when +he’s making water.—Nay, did not the learned Parson, Master +Pigman, tell us e’en now, that all Flesh is frail, we are +borne to die, Man ha’s but a time: with such like deep and +profound persuasions, as he is a rare fellow, you know, and +an excellent Reader: and for example, (as there are +examples aboundance,) did not Sir Humfrey Bubble die tother +day? There’s a lusty Widdow; why, she cried not above half +an hour—for shame, for shame! Then followed him old Master +Fulsome, the Usurer: there’s a wise Widdow; why, she cried +ne’er a whit at all. + +WIDOW. +O, rank not me with those wicked women: I had a husband +Out-shined ’em all. + +SIR GODFREY. +Aye, that he did, yfaith: he out-shined ’em all. + +WIDOW. +Doost thou stand there and see us all weep, and not once +shed a tear for thy father’s death? oh, thou ungratious son +and heir, thou! + +EDMOND. +Troth, Mother, I should not weep, I’m sure; I am past a +child, I hope, to make all my old School fellows laugh at +me; I should be mocked, so I should. Pray, let one of my +Sisters weep for me. I’ll laugh as much for her another +time. + +WIDOW. +Oh, thou past-Grace, thou! out of my sight, thou graceless +imp, thou grievest me more than the death of thy Father! oh, +thou stubborn only son! hadst thou such an honest man to thy +Father—that would deceive all the world to get riches for +thee—and canst thou not afford a little salt water? he that +so wisely did quite over-throw the right heir of those lands, +which now you respect not: up every morning betwixt four +and five; so duly at Westminster Hall every Term-Time, with +all his Cards and writings, for thee, thou wicked Absolon— +oh, dear husband! + +EDMOND. +Weep, quotha? I protest I am glad he’s Churched; for now +he’s gone, I shall spend in quiet. + +FRANCES. +Dear mother, pray cease; half your Tears suffice. +Tis time for you to take truce with your eyes; +Let me weep now. + +WIDOW. +Oh, such a dear knight! such a sweet husband have I lost, +have I lost!—If Blessed be the coarse the rain rains upon, +he had it pouring down. + +SIR GODFREY. +Sister, be of good cheer, we are all mortal our selves. I +come upon you freshly. I near speak without comfort, hear +me what I shall say:—my brother ha’s left you wealthy, +y’are rich. + +WIDOW. +Oh! + +SIR GODFREY. +I say y’are rich: you are also fair. + +WIDOW. +Oh! + +SIR GODFREY. +Go to, y’are fair, you cannot smother it; beauty will come +to light; nor are your years so far enter’d with you, but +that you will be sought after, and may very well answer +another husband; the world is full of fine Gallants, choice +enow, Sister,—for what should we do with all our Knights, +I pray, but to marry rich widows, wealthy Citizens’ widows, +lusty fair-browed Ladies? go to, be of good comfort, I say: +leave snobbing and weeping—Yet my Brother was a kind hearted +man—I would not have the Elf see me now!—Come, pluck up a +woman’s heart—here stands your Daughters, who be well +estated, and at maturity will also be enquir’d after with +good husbands, so all these tears shall be soon dried up and +a better world than ever—What, Woman? you must not weep +still; he’s dead, he’s buried—yet I cannot choose but weep +for him! + +WIDOW. +Marry again! no! let me be buried quick then! +And that same part of Quire whereon I tread +To such intent, O may it be my grave; +And that the priest may turn his wedding prayers, +E’en with a breath, to funeral dust and ashes! +Oh, out of a million of millions, I should ne’er find such +a husband; he was unmatchable,—unmatchable! nothing was +too hot, nor too dear for me, I could not speak of that +one thing, that I had not: beside I had keys of all, kept +all, receiv’d all, had money in my purse, spent what I would, +came home when I would, and did all what I would. Oh, my +sweet husband! I shall never have the like. + +SIR GODFREY. +Sister, ne’er say so; he was an honest brother of mine, and +so, and you may light upon one as honest again, or one as +honest again may light upon you: that’s the properer +phrase, indeed. + +WIDOW. +Never! Oh, if you love me, urge it not. + +[Kneels.] + +Oh may I be the by-word of the world, +The common talk at Table in the mouth +Of every Groom and Waiter, if e’er more +I entertain the carnal suite of Man! + +MOLL. +I must kneel down for fashion too. + +FRANCES. +And I, whom never man as yet hath scald, +E’ev in this depth of general sorrow, vow +Never to marry, to sustain such loss +As a dear husband seems to be, once dead. + +MOLL. +I lov’d my father well, too; but to say, +Nay, vow, I would not marry for his death— +Sure, I should speak false Latin, should I not? +I’d as soon vow never to come in Bed. +Tut! Women must live by th’ quick, and not by th’ dead. + +WIDOW. +Dar Copy of my husband, oh let me kiss thee. +How like is this Model! This brief Picture + +[Drawing out her husband’s Picture.] + +Quickens my tears: my sorrows are renew’d +At this fresh sight. + +SIR GODFREY. +Sister— + +WIDOW. +Away, +All honesty with him is turn’d to clay. +Oh my sweet husband, oh— + +FRANCES. +My dear father! + +[Exeunt mother and Frances.] + +MOLL. +Here’s a pulling, indeed! I think my Mother weeps for all +the women that ever buried husbands; for if from time to +time all the Widowers’ tears in England had been bottled +up, I do not think all would have filled a three-half-penny +Bottle. Alas, a small matter bucks a hand-kercher,—and +sometimes the spittle stands to nie Saint Thomas a Watrings. +Well, I can mourn in good sober sort as well as another; +but where I spend one tear for a dead Father, I could give +twenty kisses for a quick husband. + +[Exit Moll.] + +SIR GODFREY. +Well, go thy ways, old Sir Godfrey, and thou mayest be +proud on’t, thou hast a kind loving sister-in-law; how +constant! how passionate! how full of April the poor soul’s +eyes are! Well, I would my Brother knew on’t, he would +then know what a kind wife he had left behind him: truth, +and twere not for shame that the Neighbours at th’ next +garden should hear me, between joy and grief I should e’en +cry out-right! + +[Exit Sir Godfrey.] + +EDMOND. +So, a fair riddance! My father’s laid in dust; his Coffin +and he is like a whole-meat-pye, and the worms will cut +him up shortly. Farewell, old Dad, farewell. I’ll be +curb’d in no more. I perceived a son and heir may quickly +be made a fool, and he will be one, but I’ll take another +order.—Now she would have me weep for him, for-sooth, and +why? because he cozn’d the right heir, being a fool, and +bestow’d those Lands upon me his eldest Son; and therefore +I must weep for him, ha, ha. Why, all the world knows, as +long as twas his pleasure to get me, twas his duty to get +for me: I know the law in that point; no Attorney can +gull me. Well, my Uncle is an old Ass, and an Admirable +Cockscomb. I’ll rule the Roast my self. I’ll be kept +under no more; I know what I may do well enough by my +Father’s Copy: the Law’s in mine own hands now: nay, now +I know my strength, I’ll be strong enough for my Mother, +I warrant you. + +[Exit.] + + +SCENE II. A street. + +[Enter George Pye-board, a scholar and a Citizen, and unto +him an old soldier, Peter Skirmish.] + +PYE. +What’s to be done now, old Lad of War? thou that wert wont +to be as hot as a turn-spit, as nimble as a fencer, and as +lousy as a school-master; now thou art put to silence like +a Sectary.—War sits now like a Justice of peace, and does +nothing. Where be your Muskets, Caleiuers and Hotshots? in +Long-lane, at Pawn, at Pawn.—Now keys are your only Guns, +Key-guns, Key-guns, and Bawds the Gunners, who are your +Sentinels in peace, and stand ready charg’d to give warning, +with hems, hums, and pockey-coffs; only your Chambers are +licenc’st to play upon you, and Drabs enow to give fire to ’em. + +SKIRMISH. +Well, I cannot tell, but I am sure it goes wrong with me, for +since the cessure of the wars, I have spent above a hundred +crowns out a purse. I have been a soldier any time this +forty years, and now I perceive an old soldier and an old +Courtier have both one destiny, and in the end turn both into +hob-nails. + +PYE. +Pretty mystery for a begger, for indeed a hob-nail is the true +emblem of a begger’s shoe-sole. + +SKIRMISH. +I will not say but that war is a blood-sucker, and so; but, +in my conscience, (as there is no soldier but has a piece of +one, though it be full of holes like a shot Antient; no matter, +twill serve to swear by) in my conscience, I think some kind +of Peace has more hidden oppressions, and violent heady sins, +(though looking of a gentle nature) then a profest war. + +PYE. +Troth, and for mine own part, I am a poor Gentleman, and a +Scholar: I have been matriculated in the University, wore +out six Gowns there, seen some fools, and some Scholars, some +of the City, and some of the Country, kept order, went bare- +headed over the Quadrangle, eat my Commons with a good +stomach, and Battled with Discretion; at last, having done +many slights and tricks to maintain my wit in use (as my brain +would never endure me to be idle,) I was expeld the University, +only for stealing a Cheese out of Jesus College. + +SKIRMISH. +Ist possible? + +PYE. +Oh! there was one Welshman (God forgive him) pursued it hard; +and never left, till I turned my staff toward London, where +when I came, all my friends were pitt-hold, gone to Graves, +(as indeed there was but a few left before.) Then was I turned +to my wits, to shift in the world, to tower among Sons and +Heirs, and Fools, and Gulls, and Lady’s eldest Sons, to work +upon nothing, to feed out of Flint, and ever since has my +belly been much beholding to my brain. But, now, to return +to you, old Skirmish: I say as you say, and for my part wish +a Turbulency in the world, for I have nothing to lose but my +wits, and I think they are as mad as they will be: and to +strengthen your Argument the more, I say an honest war is +better than a bawdy peace, as touching my profession. The +multiplicity of Scholars, hatcht and nourisht in the idle +Calms of peace, makes ’em like Fishes one devour another; and +the community of Learning has so played upon affections, and +thereby almost Religion is come about to Phantasy, and +discredited by being too much spoken off-in so many and mean +mouths, I my self, being a Scholar and a Graduate, have no +other comfort by my learning, but the Affection of my words, +to know how Scholar-like to name what I want, and can call my +self a Begger both in Greek and Latin: and therefore, not to +cog with Peace, I’ll not be afraid to say, ’tis a great +Breeder, but a barren Nourisher: a great getter of Children, +which mus either be Thieves or Rich-men, Knaves or Beggers. + +SKIRMISH. +Well, would I had been born a Knave then, when I was born +a Begger; for if the truth were known, I think I was begot +when my Father had never a penny in his purse. + +PYE. +Puh, faint not, old Skirmish; let this warrant thee, Facilis +Descensus Averni, ’tis an easy journey to a Knave; thou +mayest be a Knave when thou wilt; and Peace is a good Madam +to all other professions, and an arrant Drab to us, let us +handle her accordingly, and by our wits thrive in despite of +her; for since the law lives by quarrels, the Courtier by +smooth God-morrows; and every profession makes it self +greater by imperfections, why not we then by shifts, wiles, +and forgeries? and seeing our brains are our only Patrimonies, +let’s spend with judgment, not like a desperate son and heir, +but like a sober and discreet Templar,—one that will never +march beyond the bounds of his allowance. And for our +thriving means, thus: I my self will put on the Deceit of a +Fortune-teller. + +SKIRMISH. +A Fortune-teller? Very proper. + +PYE. +And you of a figure-caster, or a Conjurer. + +SKIRMISH. +A Conjurer? + +PYE. +Let me alone; I’ll instruct you, and teach you to deceive all +eyes, but the Devil’s. + +SKIRMISH. +Oh aye, for I would not deceive him, and I could choose, of +all others. + +PYE. +Fear not, I warrant you; and so by those means we shall help +one another to Patients, as the condition of the age affords +creatures enow for cunning to work upon. + +SKIRMISH. +Oh wondrous! new fools and fresh Asses. + +PYE. +Oh, fit, fit! excellent. + +SKIRMISH. +What, in the name of Conjuring? + +PYE. +My memory greets me happily with an admirable subject to +gaze upon: The Lady-Widdow, who of late I saw weeping in +her Garden for the death of her Husband; sure she ’as but a +watrish soul, and half on’t by this time is dropt out of her +Eyes: device well managed may do good upon her: it stands +firm, my first practise shall be there. + +SKIRMISH. +You have my voice, George. + +PYE. +Sh’as a gray Gull to her Brother, a fool to her only son, +and an Ape to her youngest Daughter.—I overheard ’em +severally, and from their words I’ll derive my device; and +thou, old Peter Skirmish, shall be my second in all slights. + +SKIRMISH. +Ne’er doubt me, George Pye-board,—only you must teach me +to conjure. + +[Enter Captain Idle, pinioned, and with a guard of Officers +passeth over the Stage.] + +PYE. +Puh, I’ll perfect thee, Peter.—How now? what’s he? + +SKIRMISH. +Oh George! this sight kills me. Tis my sworn Brother, +Captain Idle. + +PYE. +Captain Idle! + +SKIRMISH. +Apprehended for some felonious act or other. He has started +out, h’as made a Night on’t, lackt silver. I cannot but +commend his resolution; he would not pawn his Buff-Jerkin. +I would either some of us were employed, or might pitch our +Tents at Usurers’ doors, to kill the slaves as they peep out +at the Wicket. + +PYE. +Indeed, those are our ancient Enemies; they keep our money +in their hands, and make us to be hangd for robbing of ’em. +But, come, let’s follow after to the Prison, and know the +Nature of his offence; and what we can steed him in, he +shall be sure of; and I’ll uphold it still, that a charitable +Knave is better then a soothing Puritain. + +[Exeunt.] + + +SCENE III. A Street. + +[Enter at one door Corporal Oath, a Vain-glorious fellow; +and at the other, three of the Widdow Puritain’s Servingmen, +Nicholas Saint-Tantlings, Simon Saint-Mary-Overaries, and +Frailty, in black scurvy mourning coats, and Books at their +Girdles, as coming from Church. They meet.] + + +NICHOLAS. +What, Corporal Oath? I am sorry we have met with you, +next our hearts; you are the man that we are forbidden to +keep company withall. We must not swear I can tell you, +and you have the name for swearing. + +SIMON. +Aye, Corporal Oath, I would you would do so much as forsake +us, sir; we cannot abide you, we must not be seen in your +company. + +FRAILTY. +There is none of us, I can tell you, but shall be soundly +whipt for swearing. + +CORPORAL. +Why, how now, we three? Puritanical Scrape-shoes, Flesh +a good Fridays! a hand. + +ALL. +Oh! + +CORPORAL. +Why, Nicholas Saint-Tantlings, Simon Saint Mary Ovaries, +ha’s the De’el possest you, that you swear no better? you +half-Christned Catomites, you ungod-mothered Varlets, do’s +the first lesson teach you to be proud, and the second to +be Cocks-combs? proud Cocks-combs! not once to do duty to +a man of Mark! + +FRAILTY. +A man of Mark, quatha! I do not think he can shew a Begger’s +Noble. + +CORPORAL. +A Corporal, a Commander, one of spirit, that is able to blow +you up all dry with your Books at your Girdles. + +SIMON. +We are not taught to believe that, sir, for we know the +breath of man is weak. + +[Corporal breathes upon Frailty.] + +FRAILTY. +Foh, you lie, Nicholas; for here’s one strong enough. Blow +us up, quatha: he may well blow me above twelve-score off +an him. I warrant, if the wind stood right, a man might +smell him from the top of Newgate, to the Leads of Ludgate. + +CORPORAL. +Sirrah, thou Hollow-Book of Max-candle— + +NICHOLAS. +Aye, you may say what you will, so you swear not. + +CORPORAL. +I swear by the— + +NICHOLAS. +Hold, hold, good Corporal Oath; for if you swear once, we +shall all fall down in a swoon presently. + +CORPORAL. +I must and will swear: you quivering Cocks-combs, my Captain +is imprisoned, and by Vulcan’s Leather Cod-piece point— + +NICHOLAS. +O Simon, what an oath was there. + +FRAILTY. +If he should chance to break it, the poor man’s Breeches +would fall down about his heels, for Venus allows him but +one point to his hose. + +CORPORAL. +With these my Bully-Feet I will thump ope the Prison doors, +and brain the Keeper with the begging Box, but I’ll see my +honest sweet Captain Idle at liberty. + +NICHOLAS. +How, Captain Idle? my old Aunt’s son, my dear Kinsman, in +Capadochio? + +CORPORAL. +Aye, thou Church-peeling, thou Holy-paring, religious outside, +thou! if thou hadst any grace in thee, thou would’st visit +him, relieve him, swear to get him out. + +NICHOLAS. +Assure you, Corporal, indeed-lam tis the first time I heard +on’t. + +CORPORAL. +Why do’t now, then, Marmaset: bring forth thy yearly-wages, +let not a Commander perish! + +SIMON. +But, if he be one of the wicked, he shall perish. + +NICHOLAS. +Well, Corporal, I’ll e’en them along with you, to visit my +Kinsman: if I can do him any good, I will,—but I have +nothing for him. Simon Saint Mary Ovaries and Frailty, pray +make a lie for me to the Knight my Master, old Sir Godfrey. + +CORPORAL. +A lie? may you lie then? + +FRAILTY. +O, aye, we may lie, but we must not swear. + +SIMON. +True, we may lie with our Neighbor’s wife, but we must not +swear wedid so. + +CORPORAL. +Oh, an excellent Tag of religion! + +NICHOLAS. +Oh Simon, I have thought upon a sound excuse; it will go +currant: say that I am gone to a Fast. + +SIMON. +To a Fast? very good. + +NICHOLAS. +Aye, to a Fast, say, with Master Fullbelly the Minister. + +SIMON. +Master Fullbelly? an honest man: he feeds the flock well, +for he’s an excellent feeder. + +[Exit Corporal, Nicholas.] + +FRAILTY. +Oh, aye, I have seen him eat up a whole Pig, and afterward +fall to the pittitoes. + +[Exit Simon and Frailty.] + + +SCENE IV. + + +The Prison, Marshalsea. + +[Enter Captain Idle at one door, and later Pye-board and old +soldier at the other. George Pye-board, speaking within.] + + +PYE. +Pray turn the key. + +SKIRMISH. +Turn the key, I pray. + +CAPTAIN. +Who should those be? I almost know their voices.— +O my friends! + +[Entering.] + +Ya’re welcome to a smelling Room here. You newly took leave +of the air; ist not a strange savour? + +PYE. +As all prisons have: smells of sundry wretches, +Who, tho departed, leave their scents behind ’em. +By Gold, Captain, I am sincerely sorry for thee. + +CAPTAIN. +By my troth, George, I thank thee; but pish,—what must be, +must be. + +SKIRMISH. +Captain, what do you lie in for? ist great? what’s your +offence? + +CAPTAIN. +Faith, my offence is ordinary,—common: A High-way; and I +fear me my penalty will be ordinary and common too: a halter. + +PYE. +Nay, prophecy not so ill; it shall go heard, +But I’ll shift for thy life. + +CAPTAIN. +Whether I live or die, thou’art an honest George. I’ll tell +you—silver flowed not with me, as it had done, (for now the +tide runs to Bawds and flatterers.) I had a start out, and +by chance set upon a fat steward, thinking his purse had been +as pursey as his body; and the slave had about him but the +poor purchase of ten groats: notwithstanding, being descried, +pursued, and taken, I know the Law is so grim, in respect of +many desperate, unsettled soldiers, that I fear me I shall +dance after their pipe for’t. + +SKIRMISH. +I am twice sorry for you, Captain: first that your purchase +was so small, and now that your danger is so great. + +CAPTAIN. +Push, the worst is but death,—ha you a pipe of Tobacco +about you? + +SKIRMISH. +I think I have there abouts about me. + +[Captain blows a pipe.] + +CAPTAIN. +Here’s a clean Gentleman, too, to receive. + +PYE. +Well, I must cast about some happy slight. +Work brain, that ever didst thy Master right! + +CAPTAIN. +Keeper! let the key be turn’d! + +[Corporal and Nicholas within.] + +NICHOLAS. +Aye, I pray, Master keeper, give’s a cast of your office. + +CAPTAIN. +How now? more Visitants?—what, Corporal Oath? + +PYE. +Corporal? + +SKIRMISH. +Corporal? + +CORPORAL. +In prison, honest Captain? this must not be. + +NICHOLAS. +How do you, Captain Kinsman> + +CAPTAIN. +Good Cocks-comb! what makes that pure, starch’d fool here? + +NICHOLAS. +You see, Kinsman, I am somewhat bold to call in, and see how +you do. I heard you were safe enough, and I was very glad +on’t that it was no worse. + +CAPTAIN. +This is a double torture now,—this fool by’th book +Do’s vex me more than my imprisonment. +What meant you, Corporal, to hook him hither? + +CORPORAL. +Who, he? he shall relieve thee, and supply thee; +I’ll make him do ’t. + +CAPTAIN. +[Aside, to Oath.] Fie, what vain breath you spend! he supply? +I’ll sooner expect mercy from a Usurer when my bond’s +Forfeited, sooner kindness from a Layer when my money’s spent: +Nay, sooner charity from the devil, than good from a Puritan! +I’ll look for relief from him, when Lucifer is restor’d to +his blood, and in Heaven again. + +NICHOLAS. +I warrant, my Kinsman’s talking of me, for my left ear burns +most tyrannically. + +PYE. +Captain Idle, what’s he there? he looks like a Monkey upward, +and a Crane down-ward. + +CAPTAIN. +Pshaw, a foolish Cousin of mine; I must thank God for him. + +PYE. +Why, the better subject to work a scape upon; thou shalt +o’en change clothes with him, and leave him here, and so— + +CAPTAIN. +Push, I publish’t him e’en now to my Corporal: he will be +damned, ere he do me so much good; why, I know a more proper, +a more handsome device than that, if the slave would be +sociable. Now, goodman Fleer-face. + +NICHOLAS. +Oh, my Cousin begins to speak to me now: I shall be +acquainted with him again, I hope. + +SKIRMISH. +Look what ridiculous Raptures take hold of his wrinkles. + +PYE. +Then, what say you to this device? a happy one, Captain? + +CAPTAIN. +Speak low, George; Prison Rats have wider ears than those +in Malt-lofts. + +NICHOLAS. +Cousin, if it lay in my power, as they say—to—do— + +CAPTAIN. +Twould do me an exceeding pleasure, indeed, that, but ne’er +talk forder on’t: the fool will be hang’d, ere he do’t. + +[To the Corporal.] + +CORPORAL. +Pax, I’ll thump ’im to’t. + +PYE. +Why, do but try the Fopster, and break it to him bluntly. + +CAPTAIN. +And so my disgrace will dwell in his Jaws, and the slave +slaver out our purpose to his Master, for would I were but +as sure on’t as I am sure he will deny to do’t. + +NICHOLAS. +I would be heartily glad, Cousin, if any of my friendships, +as they say, might—stand—ah— + +PYE. +Why, you see he offers his friendship foolishly to you +already. + +CAPTAIN. +Aye, that’s the hell on’t, I would he would offer it wisely. + +NICHOLAS. +Verily, and indeed la, Cousin— + +CAPTAIN. +I have took note of thy fleers a good while: if thou art +minded to do me good—as thou gapst upon me comfortably, +and giv’st me charitable faces, which indeed is but a +fashion in you all that are Puritains—wilt soon at night +steal me thy Master’s chain? + +NICHOLAS. +Oh, I shall swoon! + +PYE. +Corporal, he starts already. + +CAPTAIN. +I know it to be worth three hundred Crowns, and with the +half of that I can buy my life at a Brokers, at second hand, +which now lies in pawn to th’ Law: if this thou refuse to +do, being easy and nothing dangerous, in that thou art held +in good opinion of thy Master, why tis a palpable Argument +thou holdst my life at no price, and these thy broken and +unioynted offers are but only created in thy lip, now borne, +and now buried, foolish breath only. What, woult do’t? shall +I look for happiness in thy answer? + +NICHOLAS. +Steal my Master’s chain, qu’the? no, it shall ne’er be said, +that Nicholas Saint Tantlings committed Bird-lime! + +CAPTAIN. +Nay, I told you as much; did I not? tho he be a Puritain, yet +he will be a true man. + +NICHOLAS. +Why, Cousin, you know tis written, thou shalt not steal. + +CAPTAIN. +Why, and fool, thou shalt love thy Neighbour, and help him in +extremities. + +NICHOLAS. +Mass, I think it be, indeed: in what Chapter’s that, Cousin? + +CAPTAIN. +Why, in the first of Charity, the 2. Verse. + +NICHOLAS. +The first of Charity, quatha! that’s a good jest; there’s no +such Chapter in my book! + +CAPTAIN. +No, I knew twas torn out of thy Book, and that makes so little +in thy heart. + +PYE. +Come, let me tell you, ya’re too unkind a Kinsman, yfaith; +the Captain loving you so dearly, aye, like the Pomwater of +his eye, and you to be so uncomfortable: fie, fie. + +NICHOLAS. +Pray, do not wish me to be hangd: any thing else that I can +do, had it been to rob, I would ha don’t; but I must not +steal: that’s the word, the literal, thou shalt not steal; +and would you wish me to steal, then? + +PYE. +No, faith, that were too much, to speak truth: why, woult +thou nim it from him? + +NICHOLAS. +That I will! + +PYE. +Why, ynough, bully; he shall be content with that, or he +shall ha none; let me alone with him now! Captain, I ha +dealt with your Kins-man in a Corner; a good, kind-natured +fellow, me thinks: go to, you shall not have all your own +asking, you shall bate somewhat on’t: he is not contented +absolutely, as you would say, to steal the chain from him,— +but to do you a pleasure, he will nim it from him. + +NICHOLAS. +Aye, that I will, Cousin. + +CAPTAIN. +Well, seeing he will do no more, as far as I see, I must be +contented with that. + +CORPORAL. +Here’s no notable gullery! + +PYE. +Nay, I’ll come nearer to you, Gentleman: because we’ll have +only but a help and a mirth on’t, the knight shall not lose +his chain neither, but it shall be only laid out of the way +some one or two days. + +NICHOLAS. +Aye, that would be good indeed, Kinsman. + +PYE. +For I have a farder reach to profit us better by the missing +on’t only, than if we had it out-right, as my discourse shall +make it known to you.—When thou hast the chain, do but +convey it out at back-door into the Garden, and there hang it +close in the Rosemary bank but for a small season; and by that +harmless device, I know how to wind Captain Idle out of prison: +the Knight thy Master shall get his pardon and release him, +and he satisfy thy Master with his own chain, and wondrous +thanks on both hands. + +NICHOLAS. +That were rare indeed, la: pray, let me know how. + +PYE. +Nay, tis very necessary thou shouldst know, because thou +must be employed as an Actor. + +NICHOLAS. +An Actor? O no, that’s a Player; and our Parson rails again +Players mightily, I can tell you, because they brought him +drunk up’oth Stage once,—as he will be horribly drunk. + +CORPORAL. +Mass, I cannot blame him then, poor Church-spout. + +PYE. +Why, as an Intermedler, then? + +NICHOLAS. +Aye, that, that. + +PYE. +Give me Audience, then: when the old Knight thy Master has +raged his fill for the loss of the chain, tell him thou hast +a Kinsman in prison, of such exquisite Art, that the devil +himself is French Lackey to him, and runs bare-headed by his +horse-belly (when he has one) whom he will cause with most +Irish Dexterity to fetch his chain, tho twere hid under a +mine of sea-coal, and ne’er make Spade or Pickaxe his +instruments: tell him but this, with farder instructions thou +shalt receive from me, and thou shoust thy self a Kinsman +indeed. + +CORPORAL. +A dainty Bully. + +SKIRMISH. +An honest Book-keeper. + +CAPTAIN. +And my three times thrice honey Cousin. + +NICHOLAS. +Nay, grace of God, I’ll rob him on’t suddenly, and hang it in +the Rosemary bank; but I bear that mind, Cousin, I would not +steal any thing, me thinks, for mine own Father. + +SKIRMISH. +He bears a good mind in that, Captain! + +PYE. +Why, well said; he begins to be an honest felow, faith. + +CORPORAL. +In troth, he does. + +NICHOLAS. +You see, Cousin, I am willing to do you any kindness, always +saving my self harmless. + +[Exit Nicholas.] + +CAPTAIN. +Why, I thank thee; fare thee well, I shall requite it. + +CORPORAL. +Twill be good for thee, Captain, that thou has such an +egregious Ass to thy Cousin. + +CAPTAIN. +Aye, is he not a fine fool, Corporal? But, George, thou +talkst of Art and Conjuring; How shall that be? + +PYE. +Puh, be’t not in your care: +Leave that to me and my directions. +Well, Captain, doubt not thy delivery now, +E’en with the vantage, man, to gain by prison, +As my thoughts prompt me: hold on, brain and plot! +I aim at many cunning far events, +All which I doubt not but to hit at length. +I’ll to the Widdow with a quaint assault. +Captain, be merry. + +CAPTAIN. +Who, I? Kerrie, merry, Buff-Jerkin. + +PYE. +Oh, I am happy in more slights, and one will knit strong in +another.—Corporal Oath. + +CORPORAL. +Hoh, Bully? + +PYE. +And thou, old Peter Skirmish; I have a necessary task for you +Both. + +SKIRMISH. +Lay’t upon, George Pye-board. + +CORPORAL. +What ere it be, we’ll manage it. + +PYE. +I would have you two maintain a quarrel before the Lady Widdow’s +door, and draw your swords i’th edge of the Evening; clash a +little, clash, clash. + +CORPORAL. +Fuh! +Let us alone to make our Blades ring noon, +Tho it be after Supper. + +PYE. +I know you can. And out of that false fire, I doubt not but to +raise strange belief—And, Captain, to countenance my device +the better, and grace my words to the Widdow, I have a good +plain Satin suit, that I had of a young Reveller t’other night: +for words pass not regarded now a days, unless they come from +a good suit of clothes, which the Fates and my wits have +bestowed upon me. Well, Captain Idle, if I did not highly +love thee, I would ne’er be seen within twelve score of a +prison, for I protest at this instant, I walk in great danger +of small debts; I owe money to several Hostesses, and you know +such Jills will quickly be upon a man’s Jack. + +CAPTAIN. +True, George. + +PYE. +Fare thee well, Captain. Come, Corporal and Ancient! thou +Shalt hear more news next time we greet thee. + +CORPORAL. +More news! Aye, by yon Bear at Bridge-Foot in heaven shalt +thou. + +[Exeunt Pye-board, Skirmish, and Oath.] + +CAPTAIN. +Enough: my friends, farewell. +This prison shows as if Ghosts did part in Hell. + + +ACT II. + +SCENE I. A room in the widow’s house. + +[Enter Moll youngest Daughter to the Widdow: alone.] + +MOLL. +Not Marry? forswear Marriage? why, all women know ’tis as +honorable a thing as to lie with a man; and I to spite my +Sisters vow the more, have entertained a suitor already, +a fine gallant Knight of the last Feather: he says he will +Coach me too, and well appoint me, allow me money to Dice +with-all, and many such pleasing protestations he sticks +upon my lips; indeed, his short-winded Father ith’ Country +is wondrous wealthy, a most abominable Farmer, and therefore +he may doote in time: troth, I’ll venture upon him. Women +are not without ways enow to help them-selves: if he prove +wise and good as his word, why, I shall love him, and use +him kindly: and if he prove an Ass, why, in a quarter of +an hour’s warning I can transform him into an Ox;—there +comes in my Relief again. + +[Enter Frailty.] + +FRAILTY. +O, Mistress Moll, Mistress Moll. + +MOLL. +How now? what’s the news? + +FRAILTY. +The Knight your suitor, sir John Penny-Dub— + +MOLL. +Sir John Penny-Dub? where? where? + +FRAILTY. +He’s walking in the Gallery. + +MOLL. +Has my Mother seen him yet? + +FRAILTY. +O no, she’s—spitting in the Kitchen. + +MOLL. +Direct him hither softly, good Frailty,— +I’ll meet him half way. + +FRAILTY. +That’s just like running a Tilt; but I hope he’ll break +nothing this time. + +[Exit.] + +[Enter Sir John Penny-Dub.] + +MOLL. +’Tis happiness my Mother saw him not: +O welcome, good Sir John. + +PENNY-DUB. +I thank you, faith.—Nay, you must stand me, till I kiss +you: ’tis the fashion every where, I-faith, and I came +from Court enow. + +MOLL. +Nay, the Fates forfend that I should anger the fashion! + +PENNY-DUB. +Then, not forgetting the sweet of new ceremonies, I first +fall back, then recovering my self, make my honour to your +lip thus: and then accost it. + +MOLL. +Trust me, very pretty, and moving; y’are worthy on’t, sir. + +[Kissing: Enter Widdow and Sir Godfrey.] + +O, my Mother, my Mother! now she’s here, we’ll steal into +the Gallery. + +[Exeunt.] + +SIR GODFREY. +Nay, Sister, let Reason rule you, do not play the fool; +stand not in your own light. You have wealthy offers, large +tendrings; do not with-stand your good fortune: who comes a +wooing to you, I pray? no small fool; a rich Knight ath City, +Sir Oliver Muck-Hill—no small fool I can tell you: and +Furthermore, as I heard late by your Maid-servants, (as your +Maid-servants will say to me any thing, I thank ’em) both your +Daughters are not without Suitors, aye, and worthy ones too! +one a Brisk Courtier, Sir Andrew Tip-Staff, suitor a far off +to your eldest Daughter, and the third a huge-wealthy Farmer’s +son, a fine young Country Knight, they call him Sir John +Penny-Dub: a good name, marry; he may have it coined when +he lacks money. What blessings are these, Sister! + +WIDDOW. +Tempt me not, Satan. + +SIR GODFREY. +Satan? do I look like Satan? I hope the Devil’s not so old +as I, I tro. + +WIDDOW. +You wound my senses, Brother, when you name +A suitor to me:—oh, I cannot abide it, +I take in poison, when I hear one nam’d. + +[Enter Simon.] + +How now, Simon? where’s my son Edmund? + +SIMON. +Verily Madame, he is at vain Exercise, dripping in the +Tennis-court. + +WIDDOW. +At Tennis-court? oh, now his father’s gone, I shall have no +rule with him; oh, wicked Edmond, I might well compare this +with the Prophecy in the Chronicle, tho far inferior: as +Harry of Monmouth won all, and Harry of Windsor lost all; +so Edmund of Bristow, that was the Father, got all, and +Edmond of London, that’s his son now, will spend all. + +SIR GODFREY. +Peace, Sister, we’ll have him reformed, there’s hope on him +yet, tho it be but a little. + +[Enter Frailty.] + +FRAILTY. +Forsooth, Madam, there are two or three Archers at door +would very gladly speak with your Ladyship. + +WIDDOW. +Archers? + +SIR GODFREY. +Your husband’s Fletcher, I warrant. + +WIDDOW. +Oh! +Let them come near, they bring home things of his. +Troth, I should ha forgot ’em. How now, Villain? +Which be those Archers? + +[Enter the suitors Sir Andrew Tip-staff, Sir Oliver Muck-hill, +and Penny-dub.] + +FRAILTY. +Why, do you not see ’em before you? are not these Archers? +what do you call ’em? Shooters: Shooters and Archers are +all one, I hope. + +WIDDOW. +Out, ignorant slave. + +MUCK-HILL. +Nay, pray be patient, Lady, +We come in way of honorable love. + +TIP-STAFF. +We do. + +PENNY-DUB. +We do. + +MUCK-HILL. +To you. + +TIP-STAFF. +And to your Daughters. + +PENNY-DUB. +And to your Daughters. + +WIDDOW. +O, why will you offer me this Gentlemen? indeed I will not +look upon you—when the Tears are scarce out of mine Eyes, +not yet washt off from my Cheeks, and my deer husband’s body +scarce so cold as the Coffin, what reason have you to offer +it? I am not like some of your Widdows that will bury one +in the Evening, and be sure to another ere morning. Pray, +away; pray, take your answers, good Knights, and you be sweet +Knights. I have vow’d never to marry;—and so have my +daughters too! + +PENNY-DUB. +Aye, two of you have, but the third’s a good wench! + +MUCK-HILL. +Lady, a shrewd answer, marry; the best is, tis but the first, +and he’s a blunt wooer, that will leave for one sharp answer. + +TIP-STAFF. +Where be your daughters, Lady? I hope they’ll give us better +encouragements. + +WIDDOW. +Indeed, they’ll answer you so; tak’t a my word, they’ll give +you the very same answer Verbatim, truly la. + +PENNY-DUB. +Mum: Moll’s a good wench still, I know what she’ll do. + +MUCK-HILL. +Well, Lady, for this time we’ll take our leaves, hoping for +better comfort. + +WIDDOW. +O never, never! and I live these thousand years! and you be +good Knights, do not hope; twill be all Vain, Vain,—look +you, put off all your suits, and you come to me again. + +[Exeunt Sir John and Sir Andrew.] + +FRAILTY. +Put off all their suits, quatha? Aye, that’s the best +wooing of a Widdow, indeed, when a man’s Nonsuited; that is, +when he’s a bed with her. + +[Going out, Muck-hill and Sir Godfrey.] + +MUCK-HILL. +Sir Godfrey, here’s twenty Angels more: work hard for me; +there’s life int yet. + +[Exit Muck-hill.] + +SIR GODFREY. +Fear not, Sir Oliver Muck-hill, I’ll stick close for you; +leave all with me. + +[Enter George Pye-board, the scholar.] + +PYE. +By your leave, Lady Widdow. + +WIDDOW. +What, another suitor now? + +PYE. +A suitor! no, I protest, Lady, if you’d give me your self, +I’d not be troubled with you. + +WIDDOW. +Say you so, Sir? then you’re the better welcome, sir. + +PYE. +Nay, Heaven bless me from a Widdow, unless I were sure to +bury her speedily! + +WIDDOW. +Good bluntness: well, your business, sir? + +PYE. +Very needful; if you were in private once. + +WIDDOW. +Needful? brother, pray leave us; and you, sir. + +FRAILTY. +I should laugh now, if this blunt fellow should put ’em all +by side the stirrup, and vault into the saddle himself. I +have seen as mad a trick. + +[Exit Frailty.] + +[Enter Daughters.] + +WIDDOW. +Now Sir?—here’s none but we—Daughters, forbear. + +PYE. +O no, pray, let ’em stay, for what I have to speak importeth +equally to them as to you. + +WIDDOW. +Then you may stay. + +PYE. +I pray bestow on me a serious ear, +For what I speak is full of weight and fear. + +WIDDOW. +Fear? + +PYE. +Aye, ift pass unregarded, and uneffected; Else peace and +joy:—I pray, Attention. Widdow, I have been a mere +stranger for these parts that you live in, nor did I ever +know the Husband of you, and Father of them, but I truly +know by certain spiritual Intelligence, that he is in +Purgatory. + +WIDDOW. +Purgatory? tuh; that word deserves to be spit upon. I +wonder that a man of sober tongue, as you seem to be, should +have the folly to believe there’s such a place. + +PYE. +Well, Lady, in cold blood I speak it; I assure you that +there is a Purgatory, in which place I know your husband to +reside, and wherein he is like to remain, till the dissolution +of the world, till the last general Bon-fire, when all the +earth shall melt into nothing and the Seas scald their finny +labourers; so long is his abidance, unless you alter the +property of your purpose, together with each of your Daughters +theirs; that is, the purpose of single life in your self and +your eldest Daughter, and the speedy determination of marriage +in your youngest. + +MOLL. +How knows he that? what, has some Devil told him? + +WIDDOW. +Strange he should know our thoughts:—Why, but, Daughter, have +you purposed speedy Marriage? + +PYE. +You see she tells you aye, for she says nothing. Nay, give me +credit as you please. I am a stranger to you, and yet you see I +know your determinations, which must come to me Metaphysically, +and by a super-natural intelligence. + +WIDDOW. +This puts Amazement on me. + +FRANCES. +Know our secrets! + +MOLL. +I’d thought to steal a marriage: would his tongue +Had dropt out when be blabbed it! + +WIDDOW. +But, sir, my husband was too honest a dealing man to be now +in any purgatories— + +PYE. +O, Do not load your conscience with untruths; +Tis but mere folly now to gild him o’er, +That has past but for Copper. Praises here +Cannot unbind him there: confess but truth. +I know he got his wealth with a hard grip: +Oh hardly, hardly. + +WIDDOW. +This is most strange of all: how knows he that? + +PYE. +He would eat fools and ignorant heirs clean up; +And had his drink from many a poor man’s brow, +E’en as their labour brewed it. +He would scrape riches to him most unjustly; +The very dirt between his nails was Ill-got, +And not his own,—oh, I groan to speak on’t, +The thought makes me shudder—shudder! + +WIDDOW. +It quakes me too, now I think on’t.—Sir, I am much grieved, +that you, a stranger, should so deeply wrong my dead husband! + +PYE. +Oh! + +WIDDOW. +A man that would keep Church so duly; rise early, before his +servants, and e’en for Religious hast, go ungartered, +unbuttoned, nay, sir Reverence, untrust, to Morning Prayer. + +PYE. +Oh, uff. + +WIDDOW. +Dine quickly upon high-days, and when I had great guests, +would e’en shame me and rise from the Table, to get a good +seat at an after-noon Sermon. + +PYE. +There’s the devil, there’s the devil! true, he thought it +Sactity enough, if he had killed a man, so tad been done in +a Pew, or undone his Neighbour, so ta’d been near enough to +th’ Preacher. Oh,—a Sermon’s a fine short cloak of an hour +long, and will hide the upper-part of a dissembler.—Church! +Aye, he seemed all Church, and his conscience was as hard as +the Pulpit! + +WIDDOW. +I can no more endure this. + +PYE. +Nor I, widdow, endure to flatter. + +WIDDOW. +Is this all your business with me? + +PYE. +No, Lady, tis but the induction too’te. You may believe my +strains, I strike all true, And if your conscience would leap +up to your tongue, your self would affirm it: and that you +shall perceive I know of things to come as well as I do of +what is present, a Brother of your husband’s shall shortly +have a loss. + +WIDDOW. +A loss; marry, heaven for-fend! Sir Godfrey, my brother? + +PYE. +Nay, keep in your wonders, will I have told you the fortunes +of you all; which are more fearful, if not happily prevented: +—for your part and your daughters, if there be not once this +day some blood-shed before your door, whereof the human +creature dies, two of you—the elder—shall run mad. + +MOTHER AND FRANCES. +Oh! + +MOLL. +That’s not I yet! + +PYE. +And with most impudent prostitution show your naked bodies +to the view of all beholders. + +WIDDOW. +Our naked bodies? fie, for shame! + +PYE. +Attend me: and your younger daughter be strocken dumb. + +MOLL. +Dumb? out, alas: tis the worst pain of all for a Woman. I’d +rather be mad, or run naked, or any thing: dumb? + +PYE. +Give ear: ere the evening fall upon Hill, Bog, and Meadow, +this my speech shall have past probation, and then shall I be +believed accordingly. + +WIDDOW. +If this be true, we are all shamed, all undone. + +MOLL. +Dumb? I’ll speak as much as ever I can possible before +evening! + +PYE. +But if it so come to pass (as for your fair sakes I wish it +may) that this presage of your strange fortunes be prevented +by that accident of death and blood-shedding which I before +told you of: take heed upon your lives that two of you, which +have vow’d never to marry, seek you out husbands with all +present speed, and you, the third, that have such a desire to +out-strip chastity, look you meddle not with a husband. + +MOLL. +A double torment. + +PYE. +The breach of this keeps your father in Purgatory, and the +punishments that shall follow you in this world would with +horror kill the Ear should hear ’em related. + +WIDDOW. +Marry? why I vowed never to marry. + +FRANCES. +And so did I. + +MOLL. +And I vowed never to be such an Ass, but to marry: what a +cross Fortune’s this! + +PYE. +Ladies, tho I be a Fortune-teller, I cannot better Fortunes; +you have ’em from me as they are revealed to me: I would they +were to your tempers, and fellows with your bloods, that’s +all the bitterness I would you. + +WIDDOW. +Oh, ’tis a just vengeance for my husband’s hard purchases. + +PYE. +I wish you to be-think your selves, and leave ’em. + +WIDDOW. +I’ll to Sir Godfrey, my Brother, and acquaint him with these +fearful presages. + +FRANCES. +For, Mother, they portend losses to him. + +WIDDOW. +Oh, aye, they do, they do. +If any happy issue crown thy words, +I will reward thy cunning. + +PYE. +’Tis enough Lady; I wish no higher. + +[Exit Widdow and Frances.] + +MOLL. +Dumb! and not marry, worse! +Neither to speak, nor kiss, a double curse. + +[Exit.] + +PYE. +So all this comes well about yet. I play the Fortune-teller +as well as if I had had a Witch to my Grannam: for by good +happiness, being in my Hostesses’ Garden, which neighbours +the Orchard o the Widdow, I laid the hole of mine ear to a +hole in the wall, and heard ’em make these vows, and speak +those words upon which I wrought these advantages; and to +encourage my forgery the more, I may now perceive in ’em a +natural simplicity which will easily swallow an abuse, if +any covering be over it: and to confirm my former presage +to the Widdow, I have advised old Peter Skirmish, the Soldier, +to hurt Corporal Oath upon the Leg; and in that hurry I’ll +rush amongst ’em, and in stead of giving the Corporal some +Cordial to comfort him, I’ll power into his mouth a potion +of a sleepy Nature, to make him seem as dead; for the which +the old soldier being apprehended, and ready to be born to +execution, I’ll step in, and take upon me the cure of the +dead man, upon pain of dying the condemned’s death: the +Corporal will wake at his minute, when the sleepy force has +wrought it self, and so shall I get my self into a most +admired opinion, and under the pretext of that cunning, +beguile as I see occasion: and if that foolish Nicholas +Saint Tantlings keep true time with the chain, my plot will +be sound, the Captain delivered, and my wits applauded among +scholars and soldiers for ever. + +[Exit Pye-board.] + + +SCENE II. A Garden. + +[Enter Nicholas Saint Tantlings with the chain.] + +NICHOLAS. +Oh, I have found an excellent advantage to take away the +chain: my Master put it off e’en now to say on a new +Doublet, and I sneak’t it away by little and little most +Puritanically. We shall have good sport anon when ha’s +missed it about my Cousin the Conjurer. The world shall +see I’m an honest man of my word, for now I’m going to hang +it between Heaven and Earth among the Rosemary branches. + +[Exit Nicholas.] + + +ACTUS 3. + + +SCENE I. The street before the Widow’s house. + +[Enter Simon Saint Mary-Ovaries and Frailty.] + + +FRAILTY. +Sirrah Simon Saint Mary-Ovaries, my Mistress sends away all +her suitors and puts fleas in their ears. + +SIMON. +Frailty, she does like an honest, chaste, and virtuous woman; +for widdows ought not to wallow in the puddle of iniquity. + +FRAILTY. +Yet, Simon, many widdows will do’t, what so comes on’t. + +SIMON. +True, Frailty, their filthy flesh desires a Conjunction +Copulative. What strangers are within, Frailty? + +FRAILTY. +There’s none, Simon, but Master Pilfer the Tailor: he’s +above with Sir Godfrey praising of a Doublet: and I must +trudge anon to fetch Master Suds, the Barber. + +SIMON. +Master Suds,—a good man; he washes the sins of the Beard +clean. + +[Enter old Skirmish the soldier.] + +SKIRMISH. +How now, creatures? what’s a clock? + +FRAILTY. +Why, do you take us to be Jack ath’ Clock-house? + +SKIRMISH. +I say again to you what’s a clock. + +SIMON. +Truly la, we go by the clock our conscience: all worldly +Clocks, we know, go false, and are set by drunken Sextons. + +SKIRMISH. +Then what’s a clock in your conscience?—oh, I must break +off, here comes the corporal—hum, hum!—what’s a clock? + +[Enter Corporal.] + +CORPORAL. +A clock? why, past seventeen. + +FRAILTY. +Past seventeen? nay, ha’s met with his match now, Corporal +Oath will fit him. + +SKIRMISH. +Thou doost not bawk or baffle me, doost thou? I am a +Soldier—past seventeen! + +CORPORAL. +Aye, thou art not angry with the figures, art thou? I will +prove it unto thee: 12. and 1. is thirteen, I hope, 2. +fourteen, 3. fifteen, 4. sixteen, and 5. Seventeen; then past +seventeen: I will take the Dials part in a just cause. + +SKIRMISH. +I say ’tis but past five, then. + +CORPORAL. +I’ll swear ’tis past seventeen, then: doost thou not know +numbers? Canst thou not cast? + +SKIRMISH. +Cast? dost thou speak of my casting ith’ street? + +CORPORAL. +Aye, and in the Market place. + +SIMON. +Clubs, clubs, clubs! + +[Simon runs in.] + +FRAILTY. +Aye, I knew by their shuffling, Clubs would be Trump; mass, +here’s the Knave, and he can do any good upon ’em: Clubs, +clubs, clubs. + +[Enter Pye-board.] + +CORPORAL. +O villain, thou hast opened a vein in my leg. + +PYE. +How no! for shame, for shame; put up, put up. + +CORPORAL. +By yon blue Welkin, ’twas out of my part, George, to be hurt +on the leg. + +[Enter Officers.] + +PYE. +Oh peace now—I have a Cordial here to comfort thee. + +OFFICER. +Down with ’em, down with em; lay hands upon the villain. + +SKIRMISH. +Lay hands on me? + +PYE. +I’ll not be seen among em now. + +[Exit Pye-board.] + +CORPORAL. +I’m hurt, and had more need have Surgeons +Lay hands upon me then rough Officers. + +OFFICER. +Go, carry him to be dressed then. + +[Exeunt some of the Sheriff’s Officers with Corporal Oath.] + +This mutinous Soldier shall along with me to prison. + +SKIRMISH. +To prison? where’s George? + +OFFICER. +Away with him. + +[Exeunt with Skirmish.] + +[Re-enter Pye-board.] + +PYE. +So. +All lights as I would wish. The amazed widdow +Will plant me strongly now in her belief, +And wonder at the virtue of my words: +For the event turns those presages from em +Of being mad and dumb, and begets joy +Mingled with admiration. These empty creatures, +Soldier and Corporal, were but ordained +As instruments for me to work upon. +Now to my patient; here’s his potion. + +[Exit Pye-board.] + + +SCENE II. An apartment in the Widow’s house.] + + +[Enter the Widdow with her two Daughters.] + +WIDDOW. +O wondrous happiness, beyond our thoughts: +O lucky fair event! I think our fortunes, +Were blest e’en in our Cradles: we are quitted +Of all those shameful violent presages +By this rash bleeding chance. Go, Frailty, run, and know, +Whether he be yet living, or yet dead, +That here before my door received his hurt. + +FRAILTY. +Madam, he was carried to the superiour, but if he had no +money when he came there, I warrant he’s dead by this time. + +[Exit Frailty.] + +FRANCES. +Sure, that man is a rare fortune-teller; never looked upon +our hands, nor upon any mark about us: a wondrous fellow, +surely. + +MOLL. +I am glad, I have the use of my tongue yet: tho of nothing +else. I shall find the way to marry too, I hope, shortly. + +WIDDOW. +O where’s my Brother, Sir Godfrey? I would he were here, +that I might relate to him how prophetically the cunning +Gentleman spoke in all things. + +[Enter Sir Godfrey in a rage.] + +SIR GODFREY. +O my Chain, my Chain! I have lost my Chain. Where be these +Villains, Varlets? + +WIDDOW. +Oh! has lost his Chain. + +SIR GODFREY. +My Chain, my chain! + +WIDDOW. +Brother, be patient, hear me speak: you know I told you +that a cunning man told me that you should have a loss, and +he has prophecied so true. + +SIR GODFREY. +Out, he’s a villain, to prophecy of the loss of my chain: +twas worth above three hundred Crowns,—besides, twas my +Fathers, my fathers fathers, my Grand-fathers huge grant- +fathers. I had as lieve ha lost my Neck, as the chain that +hung about it. O, my chain, my chain! + +WIDDOW. +Oh, brother, who can be against a misfortune! tis happy twas +no more. + +SIR GODFREY. +No, more! O goodly godly sister, would you had me lost more? +my best gown, too, with the cloth of gold-lace? my holiday +Gascoines, and my Jerkin set with pearl? No more! + +WIDDOW. +Oh, Brother! you can read— + +SIR GODFREY. +But I cannot read where my chain is.—What strangers have +been here? you let in strangers, Thieves, and Catch-poles; +how comes it gone? there was none above with me but my Tailor; +and my Tailor will not—steal, I hope? + +MOLL. +No, he’s afraid of a chain! + +[Enter Frailty.] + +WIDDOW. +How now, sirrah? the news? + +FRAILTY. +O Mistress, he may well be called a Corporal now, for his +corps are as dead as a cole Capons. + +WIDDOW. +More happiness. + +SIR GODFREY. +Sirrah, what’s this to my chain? where’s my chain, knave? + +FRAILTY. +Your chain, sir? + +SIR GODFREY. +My chain is lost, villain. + +FRAILTY. +I would he were hang’d in chains that has it then for me. +Alas, sir, I saw none of your chain, since you were hung +with it your self. + +SIR GODFREY. +Out, varlet! it had full three thousand Links. +I have oft told it over at my prayers: +Over and over, full three thousand Links. + +FRAILTY. +Had it so, sir: sure, it cannot be lost then; I’ll put you +in that comfort. + +SIR GODFREY. +Why, why? + +FRAILTY. +Why, if your chain had so many Links, it cannot choose but +come to light. + +[Enter Nicholas.] + +SIR GODFREY. +Delusion! now, long Nicholas, where’s my chain? + +NICHOLAS. +Why, about your Neck, ist not, sir? + +SIR GODFREY. +About my neck, Varlet! My chain is lost. +Tis stole away, I’m robbed. + +WIDDOW. +Nay, Brother, show your self a man. + +NICHOLAS. +Aye, if it be lost or stole, if he would be patient, Mistress, +I could bring him to a Cunning Kinsman of mine that would +fetcht again with a Sesarara. + +SIR GODFREY. +Canst thou? I will be patient: say, where dwells he? + +NICHOLAS. +Marry, he dwells now, Sir, where he would not dwell, and he +could choose: in the Marshalsea, sir; but he’s a exlent +fellow if he were out; has traveled all the world o’er, he, +and been in the seven and twenty Provinces; why, he would +make it be fetcht, Sir, if twere rid a thousand mile out of +town. + +SIR GODFREY. +An admirable fellow: what lies he for? + +NICHOLAS. +Why, he did but rob a Steward of ten groats tother Night, as +any man would ha done, and there he lies fort. + +SIR GODFREY. +I’ll make his peace: a Trifle! I’ll get his pardon, +Beside a bountiful reward. I’ll about it. +But see the Clerks, the Justice will do much. +I will about it straight: good sister, pardon me. +All will be well, I hope, and turn to good, +The name of Conjurer has laid my blood. + +[Exeunt.] + + +SCENE III. A street. + +[Enter two servants with Yeoman Dogson to arrest the Scholar, +George Pye-board.] + + +PUT. +His Hostess where he lies will trust him no longer: she +has feed me to arrest him; and if you will accompany me, +because I know not of what Nature the Scholar is, whether +desperate or swift, you shall share with me, Servant Raven- +shaw. I have the good Angell to arrest him. + +RAVEN. +Troth, I’ll take part with thee, then, Sergeant, not for the +sake of the money so much, as for the hate I bear to a +Scholar: why, Sergeant, tis Natural in us, you know, to +hate Scholars, natural: besides, the will publish our +imperfections, Knaveries, and Convayances upon Scaffolds +and Stages. + +PUT. +Aye, and spitefully, too; troth, I have wondered how the +slaves could see into our breasts so much, when our doublets +are buttoned with Pewter. + +RAVEN. +Aye, and so close without yielding; oh, they’re parlous +fellows, they will search more with their wits than a +Constable with all his officers. + +PUT. +Whist, whist, whist! Yeoman Dogson Yeoman Dogson. + +DOGSON. +Ha, what says Sergeant? + +PUT. +Is he in the Pothecaries shop still? + +DOGSON. +Aye, aye. + +PUT. +Have an eye, have an eye. + +RAVEN. +The best is, Sergeant, if he be a true Scholar, he wears no +weapon, I think. + +PUT. +No, no, he wears no weapon. + +RAVEN. +Mass, I am right glad of that: ’tas put me in better heart. +Nay, if I clutch him once, let me alone to drag him if he be +stiff-necked. I have been one of the six my self, that has +dragged as tall men of their hands, when their weapons have +been gone, as ever bastinadoed a Sergeant—I have done, I can +tell you. + +DOGSON. +Sergeant Puttock, Sergeant Puttock. + +PUT. +Hoh. + +DOGSON. +He’s coming out single. + +PUT. +Peace, peace, be not too greedy; let him play a little, let +him play a litle: we’ll jerk him up of a sudden. I ha +fished in my time. + +RAVEN. +Aye, and caught many a fool, Sergeant. + +[Enter Pye-board.] + +PYE. +I parted now from Nicholas: the chain’s couched, +And the old Knight has spent his rage upont; +The widdow holds me in great Admiration +For cunning Art: mongst joys I am ’een lost, +For my device can no way now be crossed. +And now I must to prison to the captain, +And there— + +PUT. +I arrest you, sir. + +PYE. +Oh—I spoke truer then I was a ware, I must to prison +indeed. + +PUT. +They say you’re a scholar: nay, sir—Yeoman Dogson, have +care to his arms—you’ll rail again Sergeants, and stage +’em! you tickle their vices! + +PYE. +Nay, use me like a Gentleman, I’m little less. + +PUT. +You a Gentleman? That’s a good Jest, ifaith; can a Scholar +be a Gentleman,—when a Gentleman will not be a Scholar? +look upon your wealthy Citizen’s sons, whether they be +Scholars or no, that are Gentlemen by their father’s trades: +a Scholar a Gentleman! + +PYE. +Nay, let Fortune drive all her stings into me, she cannot +hurt that in me: a Gentleman is Accidens Inseperable to my +blood. + +RAVEN. +A rablement, nay, you shall have a bloody rablement upon you, +I warrant you. + +PUT. +Go, Yeoman Dogson, before, and Enter the Action ’ith Counter. + +PYE. +Pray do not hand me Cruelly, I’ll go, + +[Exit Dogson.] + +Whether you please to have me. + +PUT. +Oh, he’s tame; let him loose, sergeant. + +PYE. +Pray, at whose suit is this? + +PUT. +Why at your Hostesses suit where you lie, Mistress Cunnyburrow, +for bed and board, the sum four pound five shillings and five +pence. + +PYE. +I know the sum too true, yet I presumed +Upon a farder day; well, tis my stars +And I must bear it now, tho never harder. +I swear now, my device is crossed indeed. +Captain must lie bite: this is Deceit’s seed. + +PUT. +Come, come away. + +PYE. +Pray, give me so much time as to knit my garter, and I’ll +a way with you. + +PUT. +Well, we must be paid for this waiting upon you, this is no +pains to attend thus. + +[Pye-board making to tie his garter.] + +PYE. +I am now wretched and miserable. I shall ne’er recover +of this disease: hot Iron gnaw their fists! they have struck +a Fever into my shoulder, which I shall ne’er shake out +again, I fear me, till with a true Habeas Corpus the Sexton +remove me. Oh, if I take prison once, I shall be pressed +to death with Actions, but not so happy as speedily; perhaps +I may be forty year a pressing, till I be a thin old man; +That, looking through the grates, men may look through me. +All my means is confounded: what shall I do? has my wits +served me so long, and now give me the slip (like a Trained +servant) when I have most need of ’em? no device to keep my +poor carcass fro these Puttocks?—yes, happiness! have I +a paper about me now? yes, too! I’ll try it, it may hit: +Extremity is Touch-stone unto wit. Aye, aye. + +PUT. +Sfoot, how many yards are in thy Garters, that thou art so +long a tying on them? come away, sir. + +PYE. +Troth, Sergeant, I protest, you could never ha took me at +a worse time; for now at this instant I have no lawful +picture about me. + +PUT. +Slid, how shall we come by our fees then? + +RAVEN. +We must have fees, Sirra. + +PYE. +I could ha wisht, ifaith, that you had took me half an hour +hence for your own sake; for I protest, if you had not crossed +me, I was going in great joy to receive five pound of a +Gentleman, for the Device of a Mask here, drawn in this paper. +But now, come, I must be contented: tis but so much lost, and +answerable to the rest of my fortunes. + +PUT. +Why, how far hence dwells that Gentleman? + +RAVEN. +Aye, well said, sergeant, tis good to cast about for money. + +PUT. +Speak; if it be not far— + +PYE. +We are but a little past it, the next street behind us. + +PUT. +Slid, w have waited upon you grievously already: if you’ll +say you’ll be liberal when you hate, give us double fees, +and spend upon’s, why we’ll show you that kindness, and go +along with you to the Gentleman. + +RAVEN. +Aye, well said still, sergeant, urge that. + +PYE. +Troth, if it will suffice, it shall be all among you; for +my part I’ll not pocket a penny: my hostess shall have her +four pound five shillings, and bate me the five pence, and +the other fifteen shillings I’ll spend upon you. + +RAVEN. +Why, now thou art a good Scholar. + +PUT. +An excellent Scholar, ifaith; has proceeded very well alate; +come, we’ll along with you. + +[Exeunt with him: passing in they knock at the door with a +Knocker withinside.] + + +SCENE IV. A gallery in a gentleman’s house. + +[Enter a servant.] + +SERVANT. +Who knocks? who’s at door? we had need of a Porter. + +PYE. +A few friends here:—pray, is the Gentleman your master within? + +SERVANT. +Yes, is your business to him? + +PYE. +Aye, he knows it, when he see’s me: I pray you, have you +forgot me? + +SERVANT. +Aye, by my troth, sir. Pray come near; I’ll in and tell him +of you: please you to walk here in the Gallery till he comes. + +PYE. +We will attend his worship.—Worship, I think, for so much +the Posts at his door should signify, and the fair coming +in, and the wicket; else I neither knew him nor his worship, +but ’tis happiness he is within doors, what so ere he be; +if he be not too much a formal Citizen, he may do me good.— +Sergeant and Yeoman, how do you like this house? ist not +most wholesomely plotted? + +RAVEN. +Troth, prisoner, an exceeding fine house. + +PYE. +Yet I wonder how he should forget me,—for he ne’er knew +me.—No matter, what is forgot in you will be remembered +in your Master. A pretty comfortable room this, me thinks: +You have no such rooms in prison now? + +PUT. +Oh, dog-holes toote. + +PYE. +Dog-holes, indeed. I can tell you, I have great hope to +have my Chamber here shortly, nay, and diet too, for he’s +the most free-heartedst Gentleman where he takes: you would +little think it! and what a fine Gallery were here for me to +walk and study, and make verses. + +PUT. +O, it stands very pleasantly for a Scholar. + +[Enter Gentleman.] + +PYE. +Look what maps, and pictures, and devices, and things: +neatly, delicately—mass, here he comes: he should be a +Gentleman; I like his Beard well.—All happiness to your +worship. + +GENTLEMAN. +You’re kindly welcome, sir. + +PUT. +A simple salutation. + +RAVEN. +Mass, it seems the Gentleman makes great account of him. + +PYE. +I have the thing here for you, sir. I beseech you conceal +me, sir, I’m undone else,—I have the Mask here for you, +sir, Look you, sir.—I beseech your worship first to pardon +my rudeness, for my extremes makes me bolder than I would +be. I am a poor Gentleman and a Scholar, and now most +unfortunately fallen into the Fangs of unmerciful officers, +arrested for debt, which tho small, I am not able to +compass, by reason I’m destitute of lands, money, and +friends; so that if I fall into the hungry swallow of the +prison, I am like utterly to perish, and with fees and +extortions be pincht clean to the bone. Now, if ever pity +had interest in the blood of a Gentleman, I beseech you +vouchsafe but to favour that means of my escape, which I +have already thought upon. + +GENTLEMAN. +Go forward. + +PUT. +I warrant he likes it rarely. + +PYE. +In the plundge of my extremities, being giddy, and doubtful +what to do, at least it was put into my labouring thoughts, +to make happy use of this paper; and to blear their unlettered +eyes, I told them there was a Device for a Mask drawn int’, +and that (but for their interception,) I was going to a +Gentleman to receive my reward for’t: they, greedy at this +word, and hoping to make purchase of me, offered their +attendance, to go along with me. My hap was to make bold +with your door, Sir, which my thoughts showed me the most +fairest and comfortablest entrance, and I hope I have +happened right upon understanding and pity: may it please +your good Worship, then, but to uphold my Device, which is +to let one of your men put me out at back-door, and I shall +be bound to your worship for ever. + +GENTLEMAN. +By my troth, an excellent device. + +PUT. +An excellent device, he says; he likes it wonderfully. + +GENTLEMAN. +A my faith, I never heard a better. + +RAVEN. +Hark, he swears he never heard a better, Sergeant. + +PUT. +O, there’s no talk on’t, he’s an excellent Scholar, and +especially for a Mask. + +GENTLEMAN. +Give me your Paper, your Device; I was never better pleased +in all my life: good wit, brave wit, finely wrought! come +in, sir, and receive your money, sir. + +PYE. +I’ll follow your good Worship.— +You heard how he liked it now? + +PUT. +Puh, we know he could not choose but like it: go thy ways; +thou art a witty fine fellow, ifaith, thou shalt discourse +it to us at Tavern anon, wilt thou? + +pye. +Aye, aye, that I will. Look, Sergeants, here are Maps, and +pretty toys: be doing in the mean time. I shall quickly +have told out the money, you know. + +PUT. +Go, go, little villain, fetch thy chinck. I begin to love +thee; I’ll be drunk to night in thy company. + +PYE. +[Aside.] This Gentleman I may well call a part +Of my salvation, in these earthly evils, +For he has saved me from three hungry Devils. + +[Exit George.] + +PUT. +Sirrah Sergeant, these Maps are pretty painted things, but +I could ne’er fancy ’em yet: me thinks they’re too busy, +and full of Circles and Conjurations; they say all the +world’s in one of them, but I could ne’er find the Counter +in the Poultry. + +RAVEN. +I think so: how could you find it? for you know, it stands +behind the houses. + +DOGSON. +Mass, that’s true; then we must look ath’ back-side fort. +Sfoot, here’s nothing, all’s bare. + +RAVEN. +I warrant thee, that stands for the Counter, for you know +there’s a company of bare fellows there. + +PUT. +Faith, like enough, Sergeant; I never marked so much before. +Sirrah Sergeant, and Yeoman, I should love these Maps out +a cry now, if we could see men peep out of door in em: oh, +we might have em in a morning to our Break-fast so finely, +and ne’er knock our heels to the ground a whole day for em. + +RAVEN. +Aye, marry, sir, I’d buy one then my self. But this talk is +by the way: where shall’s sup to night? Five pound +receiv’d! let’s talk of that. I have a trick worth all: +you two shall bear him to ’th Tavern, whilst I go close with +his Hostess, and work out of her. I know she would be glad +of the sum to finger money, because she knows tis but a +desperate debt, and full of hazard. What will you say, if +I bring it to pass that the Hostess shall be contented with +one half for all; and we to share tother fifty-shillings, +bullies? + +PUT. +Why, I would call thee King of Sergeants, and thou shouldst +be Chronicled in the Counter book for ever. + +RAVEN. +Well, put it to me, we’ll make a Night on’t, yfaith. + +DOGSON. +Sfoot, I think he receives a more money, he stays so long. + +PUT. +He tarries long, indeed: may be, I can tell you, upon the +good liking ont the Gentleman may prove more bountiful. + +RAVEN. +That would be rare; we’ll search him. + +PUT. +Nay, be sure of it, we’ll search him! and make him light +enough. + +[Enter the Gentleman.] + +RAVEN. +Oh, here comes the Gentleman. By your leave, sir. + +GENTLEMAN. +God you god den, sirs,—would you speak with me? + +PUT. +No, not with your worship, sir; only we are bold to stay for +a friend of ours that went in with your worship. + +GENTLEMAN. +Who? not the scholar? + +PUT. +Yes, e’en he, and it please your worship. + +GENTLEMAN. +Did he make you stay for him? he did you wrong, then: why, +I can assure you he’s gone above an hour ago. + +RAVEN. +How, sir? + +GENTLEMAN. +I paid him his money, and my man told me he went out at +back-door. + +PUT. +Back-door? + +GENTLEMAN. +Why, what’s the matter? + +PUT. +He was our prisoner, sir; we did arrest him. + +GENTLEMAN. +What! he was not! you the Sheriff’s Officers! You were to +blame then. Why did you no make known to me as much? I +could have kept him for you: I protest he received all of +me in Britain Gold of the last coining. + +RAVEN. +Vengeance dog him with’t! + +PUT. +Sfott, has he guiled us so? + +DOGSON. +Where shall we sup now Sergeant? + +PUT. +Sup, Simon, now! eat Porridge for a month. Well, we cannot +impute it to any lack of good-will in your Worship,—you did +but as another would have done: twas our hard fortunes to +miss the purchase, but if e’er we clutch him again, the +Counter shall charm him. + +RAVEN. +The hole shall rot him. + +DOGSON. +Amen + +[Exeunt.] + +GENTLEMAN. +So, +Vex out your Lungs without doors. I am proud, +It was my hap to help him; it fell fit. +He went not empty neither for his wit. +Alas, poor wretch, I could not blame his brain +To labour his delivery, to be free +From their unpitying fangs—I’m glad it stood +Within my power to do a Scholar good. + +[Exit.] + + +SCENE V. A room in the Marshalsea prison. + +[Enter in the Prison, meeting, George and Captain, George +coming in muffled.] + +CAPTAIN. +How now, who’s that? what are you? + +PYE. +The same that I should be, Captain. + +CAPTAIN. +George Pye-board, honest George? why camst thou in half +fac’d, muffled so? + +PYE. +Oh, Captain, I thought we should ne’er ha laught again, +never spent frolick hour again. + +CAPTAIN. +Why? why? + +PYE. +I coming to prepare thee, and with news +As happy as thy quick delivery, +Was trac’d out by the sent, arrested, Captain. + +CAPTAIN. +Arrested, George! + +PYE. +Arrested: gesse, gesse; how many Dogs do you think I’d +upon me? + +CAPTAIN. +Dogs? I say? I know not. + +PYE. +Almost as many as George Stone the Bear: +Three at once, three at once. + +CAPTAIN. +How didst thou shake ’em off, then? + +PYE. +The time is busy, and calls upon out wits. +Let it suffice, +Here I stand safe, and scapt by miracle. +Some other hour shall tell thee, when we’ll steep +Our eyes in laughter. Captain, my device +Leans to thy happiness, for ere the day +Be spent toth’ Girdle, thou shalt be set free. +The Corporal’s in his first sleep, the Chain is missed, +Thy Kinsman has exprest thee, and the old Knight +With Palsey-hams now labours thy release: +What rests is all in thee, to Conjure, Captain. + +CAPTAIN. +Conjure! sfoot, George, you know the devil a conjuring I +can conjure. + +PYE. +The Devil of conjuring? Nay, by my fay, I’d not have thee +do so much, Captain, as the Devil a conjuring: look here, +I ha brought thee a circle ready charactered and all. + +CAPTAIN. +Sfoot, George, art in thy right wits? doost know what +thou sayest? why doost talk to a Captain of conjuring? +didst thou ever hear of a Captain conjure in thy life? +doost cal’t a Circle? tis too wide a thing, me thinks: +had it been a lesser Circle, then I knew what to have done. + +PYE. +Why, every fool knows that, Captain: nay, then, I’ll not +cog with you, Captain; if you’ll stay and hang the next +Sessions, you may. + +CAPTAIN. +No, by my faith, George: come, come, let’s to conjuring, +let’s to conjuring. + +PYE. +But if you look to be released—as my wits have took +pain to work it, and all means wrought to farther it— +besides to put crowns in your purse, to make you a man +of better hopes, and whereas before you were a Captain +or poor Soldier, to make you now a Commander of rich fools, +(which is truly the only best purchase peace can allow +you) safer then High-ways, Heath, or Cunny-groves, and +yet a far better booty; for your greatest thieves are +never hangd, never hangd, for, why, they’re wise, and +cheat within doors: and we geld fools of more money in +one night, then your false tailed Gelding will purchase +in a twelve-month’s running; which confirms the old Beldam +saying, he’s wisest, that keeps himself warmest; that is, +he that robs by a good fire— + +CAPTAIN. +Well opened, yfaith, George; thou has pulled that saying +out of the husk. + +PYE. +Captain Idle, tis no time now to delude or delay: the old +Knight will be here suddenly. I’ll perfect you, direct +you, tell you the trick on’t: tis nothing. + +CAPTAIN. +Sfoot, George, I know not what to say toot: conjure? I +shall be hand ere I conjure. + +PYE. +Nay, tell not me of that, Captain; you’ll ne’er conjure +after you’re hangd, I warrant you. Look you, sir, a parlous +matter, sure! First, to spread your circle upon the ground, +then, with a little conjuring ceremony, as I’ll have an +Hackney-man’s wand silvered ore a purpose for you,—then +arriving in the circle, with a huge word, and a great +trample, as for instance:—have you never seen a stalking- +stamping Player, that will raise a tempest with his tongue, +and thunder with his heels? + +CAPTAIN. +O yes, yes, yes: often, often. + +PYE. +Why, be like such a one, for any thing will blear the old +Knight’s eyes: for you must note that he’ll ne’er dare to +venture into the room, only perhaps peep fearfully through +the Key hold, to see how the Play goes forward. + +CAPTAIN. +Well, I may go about it when I will, but mark the end ont: +I shall but shame my self, ifaith, George. Speak big words, +and stamp and stare, and he look in at Key-hold! why, the +very thought of that would make me laugh out-right, and +spoil all: nay, I’ll tell thee, George, when I apprehend +a thing once, I am of such a laxative laughter, that if the +Devil him-self stood by, I should laugh in his face. + +PYE. +Puh, that’s but the babe of a man, and may easily be husht; +as to think upon some disaster, some sad misfortune, as the +death of thy Father ithe Country! + +CAPTAIN. +Sfoot, that would be the more to drive me into such an +extasy, that I should ne’er lin laughing. + +PYE. +Why, then, think upon going to hanging else. + +CAPTAIN. +Mass, that’s well remembred; now I’ll do well, I warrant +thee, ne’er fear me now: but how shall I do, George, for +boisterous words, and horrible names? + +PYE. +Puh, any fustian invocations, Captain, will serve as well +as the best, so you rant them out well; or you may go to a +Pothecaries shop, and take all the words from the Boxes. + +CAPTAIN. +Troth, and you say true, George; there’s strange words +enow to raise a hundred Quack-salvers, tho they be ne’er +so poor when they begin. But here lies the fear on’t, how +if in this false conjuration, a true Devil should pop up +indeed? + +PYE. +A true Devil, Captain? why there was ne’er such a one: nay, +faith, he that has this place is as false a Knave as our +last Church-warden. + +CAPTAIN. +Then he’s false enough a conscience, ifaith, George. + +[The Crie at Marshalsea.] + +CRIE PRISONERS. +Good Gentlemen over the way, send your relief. Good +Gentlemen over the way,—Good sir Godfrey! + +PYE. +He’s come, he’s come. + +NICHOLAS. +Master, that’s my Kinsman yonder in the Buff-jerkin—Kinsman, +that’s my Master yonder ith’ Taffetie Hat—pray salute him +entirely! + +[They salute: and Pye-board salutes Master Edmond.] + +SIR GODFREY. +Now, my friend. + +PYE. +May I pertake your name, sir? + +EDMOND. +My name is Master Edmond. + +PYE. +Master Edmond?—are you not a Welshman, sir? + +EDMOND. +A Welshman? why? + +PYE. +Because Master is your Christian name, and Edmond your +sir name. + +EDMOND. +O no; I have more names at home: Master Edmond Plus is my +full name at length. + +PYE. +O, cry you mercy, sir. [Whispering] + +CAPTAIN. +I understand that you are my Kinsman’s good Master, and in +regard of that, the best of my skill is at your service: +but had you fortuned a mere stranger, and made no means to +me by acquaintance, I should have utterly denied to have +been the man; both by reason of the act past in Parliament +against Conjurers and Witches, as also, because I would not +have my Art vulgar, trite, and common. + +SIR GODFREY. +I much commend your care therein, good Captain Conjurer, +and that I will be sure to have it private enough, you +shall doot in my Sister’s house,—mine own house, I may +call it, for both our charges therein are proportioned. + +CAPTAIN. +Very good, sir—what may I call your loss, sir? + +SIR GODFREY. +O you may call’t a great loss, sir, a grievous loss, sir; +as goodly a Chain of gold, tho I say it, that wore it: how +sayest thou, Nicholas? + +NICHOLAS. +O ’twas as delicious a Chain a Gold! Kinsman, you know,— + +SIR GODFREY. +You know? did you know’t, Captain? + +CAPTAIN. +Trust a fool with secrets!—Sir, he may say I know: his +meaning is, because my Art is such, that by it I may gather +a knowledge of all things. + +SIR GODFREY. +Aye, very true. + +CAPTAIN. +A pax of all fools—the excuse struck upon my tongue like +Ship-pitch upon a Mariner’s gown, not to come off in haste— +Ber-lady, Knight, to loose such a fair Chain a gold were a +foul loss. Well, I can put you in this good comfort on’t: +if it be between Heaven and Earth, Knight, I’ll ha’t for you. + +SIR GODFREY. +A wonderful Conjurer!—O, aye, tis between heaven and earth, +I warrant you; it cannot go out of the realm.—I know tis +some-where above the earth. + +CAPTAIN. +Aye, nigher the earth then thou wotst on. + +SIR GODFREY. +For, first, my Chain was rich, and no rich thing shall +enter into heaven, you know. + +NICHOLAS. +And as for the Devil, Master, he has no need on’t, for you +know he ha’s a great chain of his own. + +SIR GODFREY. +Thou sayest true, Nicholas, but he has put off that now; +that lies by him. + +CAPTAIN. +Faith, Knight, in few words, I presume so much upon the +power of my Art; that I could warrant your Chain again. + +SIR GODFREY. +O dainty Captain! + +CAPTAIN. +Marry, it will cost me much sweat; I were better go to +sixteen whot-houses. + +SIR GODFREY. +Aye, good man, I warrant thee. + +CAPTAIN. +Beside great vexation of Kidney and Liver. + +NICHOLAS. +O, twill tickle you here-abouts, Coozen, because you have +not been used toot. + +SIR GODFREY. +No? have you not been used too’t, Captain? + +CAPTAIN. +Plague of all fools still!—Indeed, Knight, I have not used +it a good while, and therefore twill strain me so much the +more, you know. + +SIR GODFREY. +Oh, it will, it will. + +CAPTAIN. +What plunges he puts me to! were not this Knight a fool, +I had been twice spoiled now; that Captain’s worse than +accurst that has an ass to his Kinsman. Sfoot, I fear he +will drivell’t out before I come toot.—Now, sir—to come +to the point in deed—you see I stick here in the jaw of +the Marshalsea, and cannot doo’t. + +SIR GODFREY. +Tut, tut, I know thy meaning; thou wouldst say thou’rt a +prisoner. I tell thee thou’rt none. + +CAPTAIN. +How none? why, is not this the Marshallsea? + +SIR GODFREY. +Woult hear me speak? I hard of thy rare conjuring; +My chain was lost; I sweat for thy release, +As thou shalt do the like at home for me. +Keeper. + +[Enter Keeper.] + +KEEPER. +Sir. + +SIR GODFREY. +Speak, is not this man free? + +KEEPER. +Yes, at his pleasure, sir, the fee’s discharged. + +SIR GODFREY. +Go, go, I’ll discharge them I. + +KEEPER. +I thank your worship. + +[Exit Keeper.] + +CAPTAIN. +Now, trust me, yar a dear Knight. Kindness unexpected! +oh, there’s nothing to a free Gentle man.—I will conjure +for you, sir, till Froth come through my Buff-jerkin! + +SIR GODFREY, +Nay, then thou shalt not pass with so little a bounty, for +at the first sight of my chain again, Forty fine Angells +shall appear unto thee. + +CAPTAIN. +Twil be a glorious show, ifaith, Knight, a very fine show; +but are all these of your own house? are you sure of that, +sir? + +SIR GODFREY. +Aye, aye—no, no, what’s he yonder, talking with my wild +Nephew? pray heaven, he give him good counsel. + +CAPTAIN. +Who, he? he’s a rare friend of mine, an admirable fellow, +Knight, the finest fortune-teller. + +SIR GODFREY. +Oh, tis he indeed that came to my Lady sister, and foretold +the loss of my chain. I am not angry with him now, for I +see twas my fortune to loose it.—By your leave, Master +Fortune-teller, I had a glimpse on you at home at my +Sisters the Widdows, there you prophesied of the loss of a +chain:—simply tho I stand here, I was he that lost it. + +PYE. +Was it you, sir? + +EDMOND. +A my troth, Nuckle, he’s the rarest fellow: has told me my +fortune so right; I find it so right to my nature. + +SIR GODFREY. +What ist? God send it a good one! + +EDMOND. +O, tis a passing good one, Nuncle: for he says I shall prove +such an excellent gamester in my time, that I shall spend +all faster then my father got it. + +SIR GODFREY. +There’s a fortune, in deed! + +EDMOND. +Nay, it hits my humour so pat. + +SIR GODFREY. +Aye, that will be the end ont: will the Curse of the beggar +prevail so much, that the son shall consume that foolishly, +which the father got craftily? Aye, aye, aye; twill, twill, +twill. + +PYE. +Stay, stay, stay. + +[Pye-board with an Almanack and the Captain.] + +CAPTAIN. +Turn over, George. + +PYE. +June—July: here, July; that’s this month. Sunday thirteen, +yester day forteen, to day fifteen. + +CAPTAIN. +Look quickly for the fifteen day:—if within the compass of +these two days there would be some Boystrous storm or other, +it would be the best, I’d defer him off till then: some +tempest, and it be thy will. + +PYE. +Here’s the fifteen day—hot and fair. + +CAPTAIN. +Puh, would t’ad been hot and foul. + +PYE. +The sixteen day; that’s to morrow: the morning for the most +part fair and pleasant— + +CAPTAIN. +No luck. + +PYE. +But about high-noon, lightning and thunder. + +CAPTAIN. +Lightning and thunder! admirable, best of all: I’ll conjure +to morrow just at high noon, George. + +PYE. +Happen but true to morrow, Almanack, and I’ll give thee +leave to lie all the year after. + +CAPTAIN. +Sir, I must crave your patience, to bestow this day upon +me, that I may furnish my self strongly. I sent a spirit +into Lancashire tother day, to fetch back a knave Drover, +and I look for his return this evening. To morrow morning +my friend here and I will come and break-fast with you. + +SIR GODFREY. +Oh, you shall be both most welcome. + +CAPTAIN. +And about Noon, without fail, I purpose to conjure. + +SIR GODFREY. +Mid noon will be a fine time for you. + +EDMOND. +Conjuring! do you mean to conjure at our house to morrow, +sir? + +CAPTAIN. +Marry, do I, sir: tis my intent, young Gentleman. + +EDMOND. +By my troth, I’ll love you while I live fort. O rare, +Nicholas, we shall have conjuring to morrow. + +NICHOLAS. +Puh! Aye, I could ha told you of that. + +CAPTAIN. +Law, he could ha told him of that! fool, cockscomb, could +ye? + +EDMOND. +Do you hear me, sir? I desire more acquaintance on you: +you shall earn some money of me, now I know you can conjure; +but can you fetch any that is lost? + +CAPTAIN. +Oh, any thing that’s lost. + +EDMOND. +Why, look you, sir, I tel’t you as a friend and a Conjurer, +I should marry a Poticaries daughter, and twas told me she +lost her maidenhead at Stonie-stratford; now if you’ll do +but so much as conjure fort, and make all whole again— + +CAPTAIN. +That I will, sir. + +EDMOND. +By my troth, I thanks you, la. + +CAPTAIN. +A little merry with your sister’s son, sir. + +SIR GODFREY. +Oh, a simple young man, very simple: come, Captain, and you, +sir, we’ll e’en part with a gallon of wine till to morrow +break-fast. + +PYE AND CAPTAIN. +Troth, agreed, sir. + +NICHOLAS. +Kinsman—Scholar? + +PYE. +Why, now thou art a good Knave, worth a hundred Brownists. + +NICHOLAS. +Am I indeed, la? I thank you truly, la. + +[Exeunt.] + + +ACTUS 4. + +SCENE I. An apartment in the Widow’s house. + +[Enter Moll, and Sir John Penny-dub.] + + +PENNY. +But I hope you will not serve a Knight so, Gentlewoman, will +you? to cashier him, and cast him off at your pleasure? what, +do you thiunk I was dubbed for nothing? no, by my faith, +Ladies daughter. + +MOLL. +Pray, Sir John Pennydub, let it be deferred awhile. I have +as big a heart to marry as you can have; but as the Fortune- +teller told me— + +PENNY. +Pax a’th Fortune-teller! would Derecke had been his fortune +seven year ago, to cross my love thus! did he know what case +I was in? why, this is able to make a man drown himself in’s +Father’s fish-pond. + +MOLL. +And then he told me more-over, Sir John, that the breach of +it kept my Father in Purgatory. + +PENNY. +In Purgatory? why let him purge out his heart there, what +have we to do with that? there’s Philistions enow there to +cast his water: is that any matter to us? how can he hinder +our love? why, let him be hangd now he’s dead!—Well, have I +rid my post day and night, to bring you merry news of my +father’s death, and now— + +MOLL. +Thy Father’s death? is the old Faarmer dead? + +PENNY. +As dead as his Barn door, Moll. + +MOLL. +And you’ll keep your word with me now, Sir John, that I shall +have my Coach and my Coach-man? + +PENNY. +Aye, faith. + +MOLL. +And two white Horses with black Feathers to draw it? + +PENNY. +Too. + +MOLL. +A guarded Lackey to run befor’t, and pied liveries to come +trashing after’t. + +PENNY. +Thou shalt, Moll. + +MOLL. +And to let me have money in my purse to go whether I will. + +PENNY. +All this. + +MOLL. +Then come what so ere comes on’t, we’ll be made sure +together before the Maids a’ the Kitchen. + +[Exeunt.] + + +SCENE II. A room in the Widow’s house, with a door at the +side, leading to another apartment. + +[Enter Widdow, with her eldest Daughter Frances and Frailty.] + + +WIDOW. +How now? where’s my Brother, Sir Godfrey? went he forth this +morning? + +FRAILTY. +O no, Madame, he’s above at break-fast, with, sir reverence, +a Conjurer. + +WIDOW. +A Conjurer? what manner a fellow is he? + +FRAILTY. +Oh, a wondrous rare fellow, Mistress, very strongly made +upward, for he goes in a Buff-jerkin: he says he will fetch +Sir Godfrey’s Chain again, if it hang between heaven and +earth. + +WIDOW. +What, he will not? then he’s an exlent fellow, I warrant. +How happy were that woman to be blest with such a Husband! +a man a cunning! how do’s he look, Frailty? very swartly, +I warrant, with black beard, scorcht cheeks, and smoky +eyebrows. + +FRAILTY. +Fooh, he’s neither smoke-dried, nor scorcht, nor black, nor +nothing. I tell you, Madame, he looks as fair to see to, as +one of us; I do not think but if you saw him once, you’d +take him to be a Christian. + +FRANCES. +So fair, and yet so cunning: that’s to be wonderd at, +Mother. + +[Enter Sir Oliver Muck-hill, and Sir Andrew Tip-staff.] + +MUCK. +Bless you, sweet Lady. + +TIP. +And you, fair Mistress. + +[Exit Frailty.] + +WIDOW. +Coades? what do you mean, Gentlemen? fie, did I not give +you your answers? + +MUCK. +Sweet Lady. + +WIDOW. +Well, I will not stick with you now for a kiss. +Daughter, kiss the Gentleman for once. + +FRANCES. +Yes, forsooth. + +TIP. +I’m proud of such a favour. + +WIDOW. +Truly la, sir Oliver, y’are much to blame to come again, +when you know my mind, so well deliverd as a Widdow could +deliver a thing. + +MUCK. +But I expect a farther comfort, Lady. + +WIDOW. +Why la you now, did I not desire you to put off your suit +quite and clean, when you came to me again? how say you? +did I not? + +MUCK. +But the sincere love which my heart bears you— + +WIDOW. +Go to, I’ll cut you off: and Sir Oliver, to put you in +comfort a far off, my fortune is read me: I must marry +again. + +MUCK. +O blest fortune! + +WIDOW. +But not as long as I can choose;—nay, I’ll hold out well. + +MUCK. +Yet are my hopes now fairer. + +[Enter Frailty.] + +FRAILTY. +O Madam, Madam. + +WIDOW. +How now, what’s the haste? + +[In her ear.] + +TIP. +Faith, Mistress Frances, I’ll maintain you gallantly. I’ll +bring you to Court, wean you among the fair society of +ladies, poor Kinswomen of mine, in cloth of silver: beside, +you shall have your Monkey, your Parrot, your Muskrat, and +your pisse, pisse, pisse. + +FRANCES. +It will do very well. + +WIDOW. +What, dos he mean to conjure here then? how shall I do be +rid of these Knights?—Please you, Gentlemen, to walk a +while ith Garden: go gather a pink, or a Lily-flower. + +BOTH. +With all our hearts, Lady, and court us favourd. + +[Exit. Within Sir Godfrey.] + +SIR GODFREY. +Step in, Nicholas; look, is the coast clear. + +NICHOLAS. +Oh, as clear as a Cat’s eye, sir. + +SIR GODFREY. +Then enter, Captain Conjurer:—now—how like you your Room, +sir? + +[Enter Sir Godfrey, Captain Pye-board, Edmond, Nicholas.] + +CAPTAIN. +O, wonderful convenient. + +EDMOND. +I can tell you, Captain, simply tho it lies here, tis the +fairest Room in my Mother’s house: as dainty a Room to +Conjure in, me thinks—why, you may bid, I cannot tell how +many devils welcome in’t; my Father has had twenty here at +once. + +PYE. +What, devils? + +EDMOND. +Devils? no, Deputies, and the wealthiest men he could get. + +SIR GODFREY. +Nay, put by your chats now, fall to your business roundly: +the feskewe of the Dial is upon the Chrisse-crosse of Noon, +but oh, hear me, Captain, a qualm comes ore my stomach. + +CAPTAIN. +Why, what’s the matter, sir? + +SIR GODFREY. +Oh, how if the devil should prove a knave, and tear the +hangings? + +CAPTAIN. +Fuh, I warrant you, Sir Godfrey. + +EDMOND. +Aye, Nuncle, or spit fire up’oth ceiling! + +SIR GODFREY. +Very true, too, for tis but thin plastered, and twill +quickly take hold a the laths, and if he chance to spit +downward too, he will burn all the boards. + +CAPTAIN. +My life for yours, Sir Godfrey. + +SIR GODFREY. +My Sister is very curious and dainty ore this Room, I can +tell, and therefore if he must needs spit, I pray desire +him to spit ith Chimney. + +PYE. +Why, assure you, Sir Godfrey, he shall not be brought up +with so little manners to spit and spaul a’th flower. + +SIR GODFREY. +Why, I thank you, good Captain; pray have a care. Aye, fall +to your Circle; we’ll not trouble you, I warrant you: come, +we’ll in to the next Room, and be cause we’ll be sure to +keep him out there, we’ll bar up the door with some of the +Godlies zealous work. + +EDMOND. +That will be a find device, Nuncle, and because the ground +shall be as holy as the door, I’ll tear two or three +rosaries in pieces, and strew the leaves about the Chamber. + +[Thunders.] + +Oh, the devil already. + +[Runs in.] + +PYE. +Sfoot, Captain, speak somewhat for shame; it lightens and +thunders before thou wilt begin: why, when? + +CAPTAIN. +Pray, peace, George,—thou’lt make me laugh anon and spoil +all. + +PYE. +Oh, now it begins again: now, now, now, Captain. + +CAPTAIN. +Rumbos—ragdayon, pur, pur, colucundrion, Hois-Plois. + +SIR GODFREY. +Oh admirable Conurer! has fetcht Thunder already: + +[Sir Godfrey through the keyhole; within.] + +PYE. +Hark, hark! again, Captain! + +CAPTAIN. +Benjamino,—gaspois—kay—gosgothoteron—umbrois. + +SIR GODFREY. +Oh, I would the devil would come away quickly, he has no +conscience to put a man to such pain. + +PYE. +Again! + +CAPTAIN. +Floste—Kakopumpos—dragone—Leloomenos—hodge—podge. + +PYE. +Well said, Captain. + +SIR GODFREY. +So long a coming? oh, would I had ne’er begun’t now, for I +fear me these roaring tempests will destroy all the fruits +of the earth, and tread upon my corn—oh!—ith Country. + +CAPTAIN. +Gog de gog, hobgoblin, huncks, hounslow, hockley te coome +parke. + +WIDOW. +[At the door.] O brother, brother, what a tempests ith +Garden: sure there’s some conjuration abroad. + +SIR GODFREY. +Tis at home, sister! + +PYE. +By and by, I’ll step in, Captain. + +CAPTAIN. +Nunck—Nunck—Rip—Gascoynes, Ipis, Drip—Dropite. + +SIR GODFREY. +He drips and drops, poor man! alas, alas. + +PYE. +Now I come. + +CAPTAIN. +O Sulphure Sooteface— + +PYE. +Arch-conjurer, what wouldst thou with me? + +SIR GODFREY. +O the devil, sister, ith dining Chamber! sing, Sister, I +warrant you that will keep him out: quickly, quickly, quickly. + +[Goes in.] + +PYE. +So, so, so, I’ll release thee: ynough, Captain, ynough; allow +us some time to laugh a little: they’re shuddering and shaking +by this time, as if an Earth-quake were in their kidneys. + +CAPTAIN. +Sirrah, Goerge, how wast, how wast? did I doo’t well ynough? + +PYE. +Woult believe me, Captain? better then any Conjurer, for here +was no harm in this, and yet their horrible expectation +satisfied well. You were much beholding to thunder and lightning +at this time: it gracst you well I can tell you. + +CAPTAIN. +I must needs say so, George. Sirrah, if we could ha convoid +hither cleanly a cracker or a fire-wheel t’ad been admirable. + +PYE. +Blurt, blurt! there’s nothing remains to put thee to pain now, +Captain. + +CAPTAIN. +Pain? I protest, George, my heels are sorer, then a Whitson +Morris-dancer. + +PYE. +All’s past now,—only to reveal that the chains ith Garden +where thou knowst it has lain these two days. + +CAPTAIN. +But I fear that fox Nicholas has revealed it already. + +PYE. +Fear not, Captain, you must put it to’th venture now. Nay, +tis time: call upon e’m, take pity on e’m, for I believe some +of ’em are in a pitiful case by this time. + +CAPTAIN. +Sir Godfrey? Nicholas, Kinsman—Sfoot, they’re fast at it +still, George. Sir Godfrey! + +SIR GODFREY. +Oh, is that the devil’s voice? how comes he to know my name? + +CAPTAIN. +Fear not, Sir Godfrey, all’s quieted. + +SIR GODFREY. +What, is he laid? + +CAPTAIN. +Laid; and has newly dropt your chain ith Garden. + +SIR GODFREY. +Ith Garden! in our Garden? + +CAPTAIN. +Your Garden. + +SIR GODFREY. +O sweet Conjurer! where abouts there? + +CAPTAIN. +Look well about a bank of Rosemary. + +SIR GODFREY. +Sister, the Rosemary bank! come, come, there’s my chain, he +says. + +WIDOW. +Oh happiness! run, run. + +[Supposed to go.] + +EDMOND. +Captain Conjurer? + +[Edmond at keyhole.] + +CAPTAIN. +Who? Master Edmond? + +EDMOND. +Aye, Master Edmond: may I come in safely, without danger, +think you? + +CAPTAIN. +Fuh, long ago: tis all as twas at first. Fear nothing, pray +come near—how now, man? + +EDMOND. +Oh this Room’s mightily hot, ifaith: slid, my shirt sticks to +my Belly already. What a steam the Rogue has left behind him! +foh, this room must be aired, Gentlemen; it smells horribly of +Brimstone—let’s open the windows. + +PYE. +Faith, master Edmond, tis but your conceit. + +EDMOND. +I would you could make me believe that, ifaith. Why, do you +think I cannot smell his savour from another? yet I take it +kindly from you, because you would not put me in a fear, +ifaith; a my troth, I shall love you for this the longest day +of my life. + +CAPTAIN. +Puh, tis nothing, sir: love me when you see more. + +EDMOND. +Mass, now I remember, I’ll look whether he has singed the +hangings or no. + +PYE. +Captain, to entertain a little sport till they come, make him +believe you’ll charm him invisible: he’s apt to admire any +thing, you see. Let him alone to give force too’te. + +CAPTAIN. +Go, retire to yonder end then. + +EDMOND. +I protest you are a rare fellow, are you not? + +CAPTAIN. +O master Edmond, you know but the least part of me yet: why, +now at this instant I could but florish my wand thrice o’er +your head, and charm you invisible. + +EDMOND. +What, you could not? make me walk invisible, man! I should +laugh at that, ifaith; troth, I’ll requite your kindness and +you’ll do’t, good Captain conjurer. + +CAPTAIN. +Nay, I should hardly deny you such a small kindness, Master +Edmond Plus: why, look you, sir, tis no more but this and thus +and again, and now yar invisible! + +EDMOND. +Am I, ifaith? who would think it? + +CAPTAIN. +You see the fortune-teller yonder at farder end ath chamber: +go toward him, do what you will with him; he shall ne’er find +you. + +EDMOND. +Say you so? I’ll try that, ifaith,— + +[Justles him.] + +PYE. +How now? Captain, who’s that justled me? + +CAPTAIN. +Justled you? I saw no body. + +EDMOND. +Ha, ha, ha!—say twas a spirit. + +CAPTAIN. +Shall I?—may be some spirit that haunts the circle. + +[Edmond pulls him by the Nose.] + +PYE. +O my nose again! pray conjure then, Captain. + +EDMOND. +Troth, this is exlent; I may do any knavery now and never be +Seen,—and now I remember me, Sir Godfrey my Uncle abused me +Tother day, and told tales of me to my Mother—Troth, now I’m +Invisible, I’ll hit him a sound wherrit ath’ ear, when he +comes out ath’ garden.—I may be revengd on him now finely. + +[Enter Sir Godfrey, Widdow, Frances, Nicholas with the Chain.] + +SIR GODFREY. +I have my Chain again, my Chain’s found again. O sweet +Captain, O admirable Conjurer. [Edmond strikes him.] Oh! +what mean you by that, Nephew? + +EDMOND. +Nephew? I hope you do not know me, Uncle? + +WIDOW. +Why did you strike your Uncle, sir? + +EDMOND. +Why, Captain, am I not invisible? + +CAPTAIN. +A good jest, George!—not now you are not, Sir. +Why, did you not see me when I did uncharm you? + +EDMOND. +Not I by my troth, Captain. Then pray you pardon me, Uncle; +I thought I’d been invisible when I struck you. + +SIR GODFREY. +So, you would doo’t? go,—y’are a foolish Boy, +And were I not o’er-come with greater joy, +I’d make you taste correction. + +EDMOND. +Correction, push!—no, neither you nor my Mother shall think +to whip me as you have done. + +SIR GODFREY. +Captain, my joy is such, I know not how to thank you: let me +embrace you, hug you. O my sweet Chain! Gladness ’een makes +me giddy. Rare man! twas as just ith’ Rosemary bank, as if +one should ha’ laid it there—oh, cunning, cunning! + +WIDOW. +Well, seeing my fortune tells me I must marry, let me marry +a man of wit, a man of parts. Here’s a worthy Captain, and +’tis a fine Title truly la to be a Captain’s Wife. A Captain’s +Wife, it goes very finely; beside all the world knows that a +worthy Captain is a fit Companion to any Lord, then why not a +sweet bed-fellow for any Lady,—I’ll have it so— + +[Enter Frailty.] + +FRAILTY. +O Mistress, Gentlemen, there’s the bravest sight coming along +this way. + +WIDOW. +What brave sight? + +FRAILTY. +Oh, one going to burying, & another going to hanging. + +WIDOW. +A rueful sight. + +PYE. +Sfoot, Captain, I’ll pawn my life the Corporal’s confined, +and old Skirmish the soldier going to execution, and ’tis +now full about the time of his waking; hold out a little +longer, sleepy potion, and we shall have exlent admiration; +for I’ll take upon me the cure of him. + + +SCENE III. The street before the Widow’s house. + +[Enter the Coffin of the Corporal, the soldier bound, and +lead by Officers, the Sheriff there. From the house, Sir +Godfrey, the Widow, Idle, Pyeboard, Edmond, Frailty, and +Nicholas.] + + +FRAILTY. +Oh here they come, here they come! + +PYE. +Now must I close secretly with the Soldier, prevent his +impatience, or else all’s discovered. + +WIDOW. +O lamentable seeing! these were those Brothers, that fought +and bled before our door. + +SIR GODFREY. +What, they were not, Sister? + +SKIRMISH. +George, look toot, I’ll peach at Tyburn else. + +PYE. +Mum,—Gentles all, vouchsafe me audience, and you especially, +Master Sheriff: +Yon man is bound to execution, +Because he wounded this that now lies coffined? + +SHERIFF. +True, true; he shall have the law,—and I know the law. + +PYE. +But under favour, Master Sheriff, if this man had been cured +and safe again, he should have been released then? + +SHERIFF. +Why make you question of that, Sir? + +PYE. +Then I release him freely, and will take upon me the death +that he should die, if within a little season, I do not cure +him to his proper health again. + +SHERIFF. +How Sir? recover a dead man? +That were most strange of all. + +[Frances comes to him.] + +FRANCES. +Sweet Sir, I love you dearly, and could wish my best part +yours,—oh do not undertake such an impossible venture. + +PYE. +Love you me? then for your sweet sake I’ll doo’t: +Let me entreat the corpse to be set down. + +SHERIFF. +Bearers, set down the Coffin.—This were wonderful, and +worthy Stoes Chronicle. + +PYE. +I pray bestow the freedom of the air upon our wholesome Art.— +Mass, his cheeks begin to receive natural warmth: nay, good +Corporal, wake betime, or I shall have a longer sleep then +you.—Sfoot, if he should prove dead indeed now, he were fully +revenged upon me for making a property on him, yet I had +rather run upon the Ropes, then have the Rope like a Tetter +run upon me. Oh—he stirs—he stirs again—look, Gentlemen, +he recovers, he starts, he rises. + +SHERIFF. +Oh, oh, defend us!—out, alas. + +PYE. +Nay, pray be still; you’ll make him more giddy else:—he knows +no body yet. + +CORPORAL. +Zounes: where am I? covered with Snow? I marvel. + +PYE. +Nay, I knew he would swear the first thing he did, as soon as +ever he came to life again. + +CORPORAL. +Sfoot, Hostess, some hot Porridge,—oh, oh, lay on a dozen +of Fagots in the Moon parlor, there. + +PYE. +Lady, you must needs take a little pity of him, yfaith, and +send him in to your Kitchen fire. + +WIDOW. +Oh, with all my heart, sir. Nicholas and Frailty, help to +bear him in. + +NICHOLAS. +Bear him in, quatha? pray call out the Maids, I shall ne’er +have the heart to doo’t, indeed la. + +FRAILTY. +Nor I neither, I cannot abide to handle a Ghost of all men. + +CORPORAL. +Sblood, let me see: where was I drunk last night, heh— + +WIDOW. +Oh, shall I bid you once again take him away? + +FRAILTY. +Why, we’re as fearful as you, I warrant you—oh— + +WIDOW. +Away, villains; bid the Maids make him a Cawdle presently to +settle his brain,—or a Posset of Sack; quickly, quickly. + +[Exeunt Frailty and Nicholas, pushing in the corpses.] + +SHERIFF. +Sir, what so ere you are, I do more then admire you. + +WIDOW. +O, aye, if you knew all, Master Sheriff, as you shall do, you +would say then, that here were two of the rarest men within +the walls of Christendome. + +SHERIFF. +Two of ’em? O wonderful. Officers, I discharge you, set +him free, all’s in tune. + +SIR GODFREY. +Aye, and a banquet ready by this time, Master Sheriff, to +which I most cheerfully invite you, and your late prisoner +there. see you this goodly chain, sir? mun, no more words, +twas lost, and is found again; come, my inestimable bullies, +we’ll talk of your noble Acts in sparkling Charnico, and in +stead of a Jester, we’ll ha the ghost ith white sheet sit +at upper end a’th Table. + +SHERIFF. +Exlent merry, man, yfaith. + +[Exeunt all but Frances.] + +FRANCES. +Well, seeing I am enjoined to love and marry, +My foolish vow thus I cashier to Air +Which first begot it.—Now, love, play thy part; +The scholar reads his lecture in my heart. + +[Exit.] + + +ACTUS 5 + +SCEN. I. The street before the Widow’s house. + +[Enter in haste Master Edmond and Frailty.] + + +EDMOND. +This is the marriage morning for my mother and my sister. + +FRAILTY. +O me, Master Edmund; we shall ha rare doings. + +EDMOND. +Nay, go, Frailty, run to the Sexton; you know my mother +will be married at Saint Antlings. Hie thee, tis past +five; bid them open the Church door; my sister is almost +ready. + +FRAILTY. +What, all ready, Master Edmond? + +EDMOND. +Nay, go, hie thee: first run to the Sexton, and run to the +Clarke, and then run to Master Pigman the Parson, and then +run to the Milliner, and then run home again. + +FRAILTY. +Here’s run, run, run— + +EDMOND. +But hark, Frailty. + +FRAILTY. +What, more yet? + +EDMOND. +Has the maids remembered to strew the way to the Church. + +FRAILTY. +Fagh, an hour ago; I helpt ’em my self. + +EDMOND. +Away, away, away, away then. + +FRAILTY. +Away, away, away then. + +[Exit Frailty.] + +EDMOND. +I shall have a simple Father inlaw, a brave Captain able to +beat all our street: Captain Idle. Now my Lady Mother will +be fitted for a delicate name: my Lady Idle, my Lady Idle, +the finest name that can be for a woman; and then the Scholar, +Master Pye-board, for my sister Frances, that will be Mistress +Frances Pye-board.—Mistress Frances Pye-board! they’ll keep +a good table I warrant you. Now all the knights’ noses are +put out of joint; they may go to a bone setters now. + +[Enter Captain and Pye-board.] + +Hark, hark! oh who comes here with two Torches before ’em? +my sweet Captain, and my fine Scholar! oh, how bravely they +are shot up in one night; they look like fine Brittains now, +me thinks. Here’s a gallant change, ifaith: slid, they have +hir’d men and all by the clock. + +CAPTAIN. +Master Edmond, kind, honest, dainty Master Edmond. + +EDMOND. +Fogh, sweet Captain Father inlaw, a rare perfume, ifaith. + +PYE. +What, are the Brides stirring? may we steal upon ’em, +thinkst thou, Master Edmond? + +EDMOND. +Faw, there e’en upon readiness, I can assure you, for they +were at their Torch e’en now: by the same token I tumbled +down the stairs. + +PYE. +Alas, poor Master Edmond. + +[Enter musicians.] + +CAPTAIN. +O, the musicians! I pray thee, Master Edmond, call ’em in +and liquor ’em a little. + +EDMOND. +That I will, sweet Captain father in law, and make each of +them as drunk as a common fiddler. + +[Exeunt omnes.] + + +SCENE II. The same. + +[Enter Sir John Pennydub, and Moll above lacing of her +clothes.] + + +PENNYDUB. +Whewh, Mistress Moll, Mistress Moll. + +MOLL. +Who’s there? + +PENNYDUB. +Tis I. + +MOLL. +Who? Sir John Pennydub? O you’re an early cock, ifaith: +who would have thought you to be so rare a stirrer? + +PENNYDUB. +Preethe, Moll, let me come up. + +MOLL. +No, by my faith, Sir John, I’ll keep you down, for you +Knights are very dangerous in once you get above. + +PENNYDUB. +I’ll not stay, ifaith. + +MOLL. +Ifaith, you shall stay, for, Sir John, you must note the +nature of the Climates: your Northern wench in her own +Country may well hold out till she be fifteen, but if she +touch the South once, and come up to London, here the Chimes +go presently after twelve. + +PENNYDUB. +O th’art a mad wench, Moll, but I pree thee make haste, for +the priest is gone before. + +MOLL. +Do you follow him, I’ll not be long after. + +[Exeunt.] + + +SCENE III. A room in Sir Oliver Muckhill’s house. + +[Enter Sir Oliver Muckhill, Sir Andrew Tipstaff, and old +Skirmish talking.] + + +MUCK. +O monstrous, un-heard of forgery. + +TIP. +Knight, I never heard of such villainy in our own country +in my life. + +MUCH. +Why, ’tis impossible; dare you maintain your words? + +SKIRMISH. +Dare we? een to their wezen pipes. We know all their plots, +they cannot squander with us; they have knavishly abused us, +made only properties on’s to advance their selves upon our +shoulders, but they shall rue their abuses. This morning +they are to be married. + +MUCK. +Tis too true; yet if the Widdow be not too much besotted on +slights and forgeries, the revelation of their villainies will +make ’em loathsome: and to that end, be it in private to you, +I sent late last night to an honorable personage, to whom I +am much indebted in kindness, as he is to me, and therefore +presume upon the payment of his tongue, and that he will lay +out good words for me: and to speak truth, for such needful +occasions, I only preserve him in bond, and some-times he may +do me more good here in the City by a free word of his mouth, +then if he had paid one half in hand, and took Doomesday for +t’other. + +TIP. +In troth, Sir, without soothing be it spoken, you have publisht +much judgment in these few words. + +MUCK. +For you know, what such a man utters will be though effectual +and to weighty purpose, and therefore into his mouth we’ll put +the approved theme of their forgeries. + +SKIRMISH. +And I’ll maintain it, Knight, if ye’ll be true. + +[Enter a servant.] + +MUCK. +How now, fellow? + +SERVANT. +May it please you, Sir, my Lord is newly lighted from his +Coach. + +MUCK. +Is my Lord come already? His honor’s early. +You see he loves me well: up before seven! +Trust me, I have found his night capt at eleven. +There’s good hope yet; come, I’ll relate all to him. + +[Exeunt.] + + +SCENE IV. A street; a church appearing. + +[Enter the two Bridegrooms, Captain and Scholar; after them, +Sir Godfrey and Edmond, Widdow changed in apparel, Mistress +Frances led between two Knights, Sir John Pennydub and Moll: +there meets them a Noble man, Sir Oliver Muckhill, and Sir +Andrew Tipstaff.] + +NOBLE. +By your leave, Lady. + +WIDOW. +My Lord, your honour is most chastely welcome. + +NOBLE. +Madam, tho I came now from court, I come now from court, I +come not to flatter you: upon whom can I justly cast this +blot, but upon your own forehead, that know not ink from +milk? such is the blind besotting in the state of an unheaded +woman that’s a widdow. For it is the property of all you that +are widdowes (a hand full excepted) to hate those that honestly +and carefully love you, to the maintenance of credit, state, +and posterity, and strongly to dote on those, that only love +you to undo you: who regard you least are best regarded, who +hate you most are best beloved. And if there be but one man +amongst ten thousand millions of men that is accurst, +disastrous, and evilly planeted, whom Fortune beats most, +whom God hates most, and all Societies esteem least, that man +is sure to be a husband.—Such is the peevish Moon that rules +your bloods. An Impudent fellow best woes you, a flattering +lip best wins you, or in a mirth who talks roughliest is most +sweetest; nor can you distinguish truth from forgeries, mists +from Simplicity: witness those two deceitful monsters that +you have entertaind for bride-grooms. + +WIDOW. +Deceitful! + +PYE. +All will out. + +CAPTAIN. +Sfoot, who has blabd, George? that foolish Nicholas? + +NOBLE. +For what they have besotted your easy blood withall wear +nought but forgeries: the fortune telling for husbands, the +conjuring for the chain Sir Godfrey heard the falshod of: +all mere knavery, deceit, and coozenage. + +WIDOW. +O wonderful! Indeed I wondred that my husband with all his +Craft could not keep himself out of purgatory. + +SIR GODFREY. +And I more wonder that my chain should be gone and my Tailor +had none of it. + +MOLL. +And I wondred most of all that I should be tied from marriage, +having such a mind too’t. Come, Sir John Pennydub, fair +weather on our side; the moon has changed since yester night. + +PYE. +The Sting of every evil is with-in me. + +NOBLE. +And that you may perceive I fain not with you, behold their +fellow actor in those forgeries; who, full of Spleen and +envy at their so sudden advancements, revealed all their plot +in anger. + +PYE. +Base Soldier, to reveal us/ + +WIDOW. +Ist possible we should be blinded so, and our eye open? + +NOBLE. +Widdow, will you now believe that false, which too soon you +believed true? + +WIDOW. +O, to my shame I do. + +SIR GODFREY. +But under favour, my Lord, my chain was truly lost and +strangely found again. + +NOBLE. +Resolve him of that, Soldier. + +SKIRMISH. +In few words, Knight, then, thou were the arch-gull of all. + +SIR GODFREY. +How, Sir? + +SKIRMISH. +Nay, I’ll prove it: for the chain was but hid in the rosemary +bank all this while, and thou gotst him out of prison to +Conjure for it, who did it admirably fustianly; for indeed +what need any others when he knew where it was? + +SIR GODFREY. +O villainy of villainies! But how came my chain there? + +SKIRMISH. +Where’s truly la, in deed la, he that will not swear, but lie, +He that will not steal, But rob: pure Nicholas Saint Antlings? + +SIR GODFREY. +O Villain! one of our society, +Deemd always holy, pure, religious. +A Puritan a thief, when wast ever heard? +Sooner we’ll kill a man then Steal, thou knowst. +Out, slave! I’ll rend my lion from thy back +With mine own hands. + +NICHOLAS. +Dear Master, oh. + +NOBLE. +Nay, Knight, dwell in patience. And now, widdow, being so +near the Church, twer great pity, nay uncharity, to send you +home again without a husband: draw nearer you of true worship, +state and credit, that should not stand so far off from a +widdow, and suffer forged shapes to come between you. Not +that in these I blemish the true Title of a Captain, or blot +the fair margent of a Scholar; For I honor worthy and deserving +parts in the one, and cherish fruitful Vertues in the other. +Come Lady, and you, Virgin; bestow your eyes and your purest +affections upon men of estimation both in Court and City, that +hath long wooed you, and both with there hearts and wealth +sincerely love you. + +SIR GODFREY. +Good Sister, do: Sweet little Franke, these are men of +reputation; you shall be welcome at Court: a great credit for +a Citizen, sweet Sister. + +NOBLE. +Come, her silence does consent too’t. + +WIDDOW. +I know not with what face— + +NOBLE. +Pah, pah! why, with your own face; they desire no other. + +WIDDOW. +Pardon me, worthy Sirs; I and my daughter have wrongd your +loves. + +MUCK. +Tis easily pardon’d, Lady, +If you vouchsafe it now. + +WIDDOW. +With all my soul. + +FRANCES. +And I with all my heart. + +MOLL. +And I, Sir John, with soul, heart, lights and all. + +SIR JOHN. +They are all mine, Moll. + +NOBLE. +Now, Lady, +What honest Spirit but will applaud your choice, +And gladly furnish you with hand and voice? +A happy change which makes e’en heaven rejoice. +Come, enter into your Joys, you shall not want +For fathers now; I doubt it not, believe me, +But that you shall have hands enough to give ye. + +[Exeunt omnes.] + +Deus dedit his quoque finem. + + +FINIS + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 4214 *** diff --git a/4214-0.zip b/4214-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b5ada07 --- /dev/null +++ b/4214-0.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b5dba15 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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