Hip. Hear her but speak. Orl. I love no mermaids, I'll not be caught sir. with a quail-pipe. Hip. You're now beyond all reason. Orl. I am then a beast. Sir, I had rather be a beast, and not dishonour my creation, than be a doting father, and, like time, be the destruction of mine own brood. Hip. Is't dotage to relieve your child being Orl. Is't fit for an old man to keep a whore ? Orl. 'Tis foolery; relieve her! Hip. Fare you well, for I'll trouble you nomore. [Exit. Orl. And fare you well, sir, go thy ways; we have few lords of thy making, that love wenches for their honesty.-'Las, my girl! art thou poor? poverty dwells next door to despair, there's but a wall between them; despair is one of hell's catch-poles; and lest that Devil arrest her, I'll to her, yet she shall not know me; she shall drink of my wealth, as beggars do of running water, freely, yet never know from what fountain's head it flows. Shall a silly bird pick her own breast to nourish her young ones, and can a father see his child starve? that were hard; the pelican does it, and shall not I? Yes, I will victual the camp for her, but it shall be by some stratagem. That knave there her husband will be hanged I fear; I'll keep his neck out of the noose if I can, he shall not know how. 7 Enter two Serving-men. Orl. How now, knaves, whither wander you? 1 Serving-man. To seek your worship. Orl. Stay, which of you has my purse? what money have you about you? 2 Serving-man. Some fifteen or sixteen pounds, Orl. Give it me, I think I have some gold about me; yes, it's well; leave my lodging at court, and get you home. Come, sir, though I never turned any man out of doors, yet I'll be so bold as to pull your coat over your ears. 1 Serving-man. What do you mean to do, sir? Orl. Hold thy tongue, knave, take thou my cloak; I hope I play not the paltry merchant in this bartering. Bid the steward of my house sleep with open eyes in my absence, and to look to all things, whatsoever I command by letters to be done by you, see it done. So, does it fit well? 2 Serving-man. As if it were made for your worship. Orl. You proud varlets, you need not be ashamed to wear blue, when your master is one of your fellows; away, do not see me. Both. This is excellent. [Exeunt. Orl. I should put on a worse suit too; per haps I will. My vizard is on; now to this mask. Say I should A winter cuckoo, or unfeathered owl; [Exit. Enter CANDIDO, LODOVICO, and CAROLO. AsTOLFO, other Guests, and BRIDE with Prentices. Can. O gentlemen, so late? you're very come, pray sit down. wel Lod. Carolo, did'st ere see such a nest of caps? It's a most civil and most comely sight. Lod. What does he i'the middle look like? Ast. Troth, like a spire-steeple in a country village, over-peering so many thatch't houses. 7 The pelican does it-The young pelican is fabled to suck the mother's blood. For that reason, King Lear calls his daughters pelican daughters. Again, Shirley's Love in a Maze, 1632: "The pelican loves not her young so well, That digs upon her breast a hundred springs." See Shakespeare, vol. ix. p. 466. edit. 1778. 8 To wear blue.-The habit of servants at the time. Dekkar's Bel-man of London, Sign. H : "But the guest being departed from his Inne to the towne, or into the faire, backe comes this counterfeit blew coate, running in all haste for his maister's cloke bag, or portmanteau," &c. ! Dekkar's Bel-man's Night walkes, Sign. E 3: "-The other act their parts in blew coates, as they were their serving-men, though indeed they be all fellowes." The Curtain Drawer of the World, 1612, p. 2. “Not a serving-man dare appeare in a blue coat, not because it is the livery of charity, but least he should be thought a retainer to their enemy." Can. What's that you laugh at, signiors? We laugh to see (yet laugh we not in scorn) Lod. Mine is as tall a felt as any is this day in Millan, and therefore I love it, for the block was cleft out for my head, and fits me to a hair. Can. Indeed you are good observers, it shews strange. But, gentlemen, I pray neither contemn, I could build so much in the round cap's praise, Omnes. With all our hearts. Can. Thus then in the cap's honour; To every sex and state, both nature, time, The countries' laws, yea, and the very clime, Do allot distinct habits; the spruce courtier 10 Jets up and down in silk; the warrior Marches in buff, the clown plods on in gray : But for these upper garments thus I say, The seaman has his cap, pared without brim, The gallant's head is feathered, that fits him; The soldier has his murrion, women have tires; Beasts have their head-pieces, and men have theirs. Lod. Proceed. 11 Can. Each degree has his fashion; it's fit then, One should be laid by for the citizen, And that's the cap which you see swells not high, For caps are emblems of humility; It is a citizen's badge, and first was worn By the Romans; turn 12 for when any bondman's Came to be made a freeman, thus 'twas said, And now every citizen uses it. Can. Of geometric figures the most rare, Nor like a draper's shop with broad dark shed, show? 9 Bucklers without pikes.-The ancient bucklers had a prominent spike, and sometimes a pistol in the centre of them. If my memory does not fail me, specimens of both kinds may be seen in the Tower of London-S. 10 Jets up and down.-See Note 23 to Edward II. p. 167. "Murrion.-A head piece or cap of steel. So, in Philaster, vol. I. p. 183. edit. 1778. "Thus do we clap our musty murrions on, And trace the streets in terror." 12 For when a bondman's turn, &c.-" The ceremony of manumission was thus performed: the slave was brought before the Consul, and in after times before the Prætor, by his master, who, laying his hand upon his servant's head, said to the Prætor, Hunc hominem liberum esse volo, and with that, let him go out of his hand, which they termed emanu emittere. Then the Prætor laying a rod upon his head, called Vindicta, said, Dico eum liberum esse more Quiritum. Hence Persius, "Vindicta postquam meus a Prætore recessi. After this, the Lictor, taking the rod out of the Prætor's hand, struck the servant several blows on the head, face, and back; and nothing now remained but pileo donari, to receive a cap in token of liberty, and to have his name entered in the common Roll of Freemen, with the reason of his obtaining that favour." Kennet's Roman Antiquities, p. 100. See also Addison's Dialogues on Ancient Medals, p. 67. edit. 1765. Lod. Since his cap's round, that shall For in the cap's praise all of you have share. Can. Oh, peace I pray thee, thus far off I stand, She called for claret, and you filled out sack; Omnes. No faith, 'twas but mistaken. 1 Pren. Nay, she took it right enough. Can. How now? Lod. Look what your mistress ails. [Exit Bride. 1 Pren. Nothing, sir, but about filling a wrong glass, a scurvy-trick. Can. I pray you hold your tongue, my servant there Tells me she is not well. Omnes. Step to her, step to her. Lod. A word with you: do you hear? This wench (your new wife) will take you down in your wedding-shoes, unless you hang her up in her wedding-garters. Can. How, hang her in her garters? Lod. Will you be a tame pigeon still? shall your back be like a tortoise-shell, to let carts go over it, yet not to break? This she-cat will have more lives than your last puss had, and will scratch worse, and mouze you worse; look to't. Can. What would you have me do, sir? Lod. What would I have you do? Swear, swagger, brawl, fling; for fighting it's no matter, we have had knocking pusses enow already; you know, that a woman was made of the rib of a man, and that rib was crooked. The moral of which is, that a man must from his beginning be crooked to his wife; be you like an orange to her, let her cut you never so fair, be you sour as vinegar; will be ruled by me? you Can. In any thing that's civil, honest, and just. me? Can. I have the very same which myself wore. Lod. I'll send my man for't within this half hour, and within this two hours I'll be your prentice; the hen shall not overcrow the cock, I'll sharpen your spurs. Can. It will be but some jest, sir. Omnes. We'll take our leaves, sir, too. Can. Pray conceit not ill of my wife's sudden rising. This young knight, sir Lodovico, is deep seen in physic, and he tells me, the disease called the Mother bangs on my wife; it is a vehement heaving and beating of the stomach, and that swelling did with the pain thereof cramp up her arm, that hit his lips, and brake the glass; no harm, it was no harin. Omnes. No, signior, none at all. Can. The streightest arrow may fly wide by Bel. Oh my sweet husband, wert thou in thy grave, and art alive again? O welcome, welcome. Math. Doest know me? my cloak pr'ythee lay it up. Yes faith, my winding sheet was taken out of lavender, to be stuck with rosemary; I lackt but the knot here, or here; yet, if I had had it, I should have made a wry mouth at the world like a playse; 13 but, sweetest villain, I am here now, and I will talk with thee soon. Bel. And glad am I thou art here. Math. Did these heels caper in shackles? Ah! my little plump rogue, I'll bear up for all this, and fly high. Catzo, Catzo. Bel. Matheo? Math. What sayest, what sayest? Oh brave fresh air! a pox on these grates and gingling of keys, and rattling of iron. I'll bear up, I'll fly high, wench, hang tosse. Bel. Matheo, pr'ythee make thy prison thy And in it view the wrinkles, and the scars, mend them. go Math. I'll Bel. Thou dost not hear me? Math. Yes faith do I. Bel. Thou hast been in the hands of misery, and taken strong physic; pr'ythee now be sound. Math. Yes. S'foot, I wonder how the inside of a tavern looks now. Oh! when shall I 14 bizle, bizle? 13 I should have made a wry mouth at the world like a playse-So, in Nash's Lenten Stuff, 1599: "None won the days in this, but the herring whom all their clamorous suffrages saluted with Vive le Roy, God save the King, God save the King, save only the playse and the butt, that made wry mouths at him, and for their mocking have wry mouths ever since." Dekkar's Satiromastrix: "bate one at that stake my place mouth yelpers." 14 Bizle, bizle.—Or, as it is sometimes spelt, bezzle. He means to say, when shall I have an opportunity to drink to excess. Nash, in Pierce Penilesse his Supplication to the Devill, 1592, describing a Dane, says, Thas walkes hee up and downe in his Majestie, taking a yard of ground at every step, and stampes on Bel. Nay, see, thou art thirsty still for poison; come, I will not have thee swagger. Math. Honest ape's face. Bel. 'Tis that sharpened an axe to cut thy throat. Orl. Is your name signior Matheo? Good love, I would not have thee sell thy sub-thread of both your loves.-The mother's own stance And time (worth all) in those damned shops of hell; Those dicing-houses, that stand never well, sin Has almost lodged us in the beggar's Inn. Math. Bellafront, Bellafront, I protest to thee, I swear, as I hope my soul, I will turn over a new leaf; the prison I confess has bit me, the best man that sails in such a ship may be lousy. Bel. One knocks at door. Math. I'll be the porter: they shall see, a jail cannot hold a brave spirit; I'll fly high. [Exit. Bel. How wild is his behaviour! oh, I fear He's spoiled by prison, he's half damned comes there; But I must sit all storms: when a full sail his man. Math. Come in, pray; would you speak with me, sir? face, I have not forgot that (Aside.) I'm an old man, sir, and am troubled with a whoreson salt rheum, that I cannot hold my water. Gentlewoman, the last man I served was your father. Bel. My father? any tongue that sounds his Orl. I can speak no more. Math. How now, old lad! what, dost cry? Orl. The rheum still, sir, nothing else; I should be well seasoned, for mine eyes lie in brine; look you, sir, I have a suit to you. Math. What is't, my little white pate? Orl. Troth, sir, I have a mind to serve your worship. Math. To serve me? Troth, my friend, my fortunes are, as a man may say : Orl. Nay, look you, sir, I know when all sins are old in us, and go upon crutches, that covetousness does but then lie in her cradle: 'tis not so with me. Letchery loves to dwell in the fairest lodging, and covetousness in the oldest buildings, that are ready to fall but my white head, sir, is no inn for such a gossip. If a servenough, that has sailed about the world to serve ing-man at my years be not stored with biscuit him the voyage out of his life, and to bring him East-home, I'll pity but all his days should be fasting days. I care not so much for wages, for I have the earth so terrible, as if he ment to knock up a spirite, when (foule drunken bezzle) if an Englishman set his little finger to him, he falls like a hog's-trough that is set on one end." Every Woman in her Humour, 1609, Sign. B 2: "yonders the most hard-favoured newes-walkes the streetes, seaven men goeing to their graves that dyed with drinking and bisseling." Jack Drum's Entertainment, 1616, Sign. A 3: -'Tis now become The shewing horne of Bezelers discourse." 15 A sort of ravens.-A company, a number. See Note 4 to Gammer Gurton's Needle, p. 102. This word, in the same sense, is used in Waller's Poems, 4to, 1729, p. 3: "As when a sort of lusty shepherds try Their force at football care of victory, On which Mr Fenton observes, that " Mr Waller useth the word sort in the same sense which it often bears in Spencer, to signify a crowd and so we find it employed in that old Version of the Psalms, which is retained in our Liturgy; Ye shall be slain all the sort of you, Ps. lxii. 3. But I do not remember to have met with it in any writer since the Restoration, except once in Sir George Etherege's Sir Fopling Flutter." scraped a handful of gold together; I have a little money, sir, which I would put into your worship's hands, not so much to make it moreMath. No, no, you say well: thou sayest well; but i must tell you :- How much is the money, sayest thou? Orl. About twenty pounds, sir. Math. Twenty pounds? Let me see; that shall bring thee in, after ten per centum, per unnum. Orl. No, no, no, sir, no; I cannot abide to have money ingender; fie upon this silver letchery, fie; if I may have meat to my mouth, and rags to my back, and a flock-bed to snort upon, when I die, the longer liver take all. Math. A good old boy, yfaith! if thou servest thou shalt eat as I eat, drink as I drink, lie as I lie, and ride as I ride. me, Orl. That's if you have money to hire horses. Math. Front, what dost thou think on't? This good old lad here shall serve me. Bel. Alas, Matheo, wilt thou load a back that is already broke? Math. Peace! pox on you, peace! there's a trick in't, I fly high, it shall be so, Front, as I tell you give me thy hand, thou shall serve me yfaith; welcome: as for your money Orl. Nay, look you, sir, I have it here. Math. God's-so, my lord, your lordship is most welcome; I'm proud of this, my lord. Hip. Was bold to see you. Is that your wife? Hip. I'll borrow her lip. Math. With all my heart, my lord. Orl. Who's this, I pray, sir? Math. My lord Hipolito: what's thy name? Math. Pacheco! fine name: thou seest, Pacheco, I keep company with no scoundrels, nor Math. Pish, keep it thyself, man, and then base fellows. thou'rt sure 'tis safe. Orl. Safe! and 'twere ten thousand ducats, your worship should be my cash-keeper; I have heard what your worship is, an excellent dunghill cock, to scatter all abroad; but I'll venture twenty pounds on's head. Math. And didst thou serve my worshipfu! father-in-law, Signior Orlando Friscobaldo, that madman once? Orl. I served him so long, till he turned me out of doors. Math. It's a notable chuff, I have not seen him many a day. Orl. No matter and you never see him; it's an arrant grandee, a churl, and as damn'd a cutthroat- Hip. Came not my footman to you? Hip. I sent by him a diamond and a letter; Bel. Yes, my lord, I did. Hip. I'll now then leave you, And choose mine hour: but ere I part away, Math. A glass of wine? Hip. Not now; I'll visit you at other times. Bel. Thou villain, curb thy tongue! thou art a You're come off well then? To sell thy master's name to slander thus. Math. Excellent well, I thank your lordship: I owe you my life, my lord; and will pay my Math. Away ass, he speaks but truth: thy fa- | best blood in any service of yours. ther is a Bel. Gentleman. Math. And an old knave; there's more deceit in him than in sixteen poticaries; it's a Devil, thou mayst beg, starve, hang, damn; does he send thee so much as a cheese? Orl. Or so much as a gammon of bacon? He'll give it his dogs first. Math. A jail, a jail. Orl. A Jew, a Jew, sir. Hip. I'll take no such dear payment ;-hark you, Matheo, I know, the prison is a gulf; if money run low with you, my purse is yours; call for it. Math. Faith, my lord, I thank my stars, they send me down some; I cannot sink, so long as these bladders hold. Hip. I will not see your fortune's ebb, pray try. To starve in full barns were 16 fond modesty. Math. Open the door, sirrah. 16 Fond, i, e. foolish. So, in Churchyard's Challenge, 1593, p. 74. "O countrey sweete, perswade obedience heere, |
