Francis Beaumont, the Knight of the Burning Pestle

Francis Beaumont, The Knight of the Burning Pestle

First performed i607-8 First published i6i3

The Knight of the Burning Pestle was written for the The enactment of ‘The Knight of the Burning Pestle’ private Blackfriars Theatre, built by Richard Burbage in superficially suggests an innocent preoccupation by the i596, and was performed by a company o f boy actors. citizens with the old stories o f chivalric adventure and The play is significant for the information it offers in nobility. They celebrate, and Beaumont parodies, the tales the Induction and elsewhere about contemporary acting of Guy of W arwick and Bevis of Hampton, meshing companies and the public taste in theatre, as well as these with narratives derived from popular Spanish prose other popular cultural form s, such as the chivalric romances. However, such evocations o f the past also had romance. This, together with its representation o f social a clear place in the official and semi-official discourse of class, and its very specific sense o f the geography of the Tudor and early Stuart state. Edm und Spenser (i552- London and its environs, gives The Knight o f the 99) had written his chivalric romance, The Faerie Queene Burning Pestle a particular authority for students o f early (i590-6), with a seriousness that borders on the seventeenth-century theatre. Beaum ont’s play is a melancholic, framing a mythologised national history that network of overlapping dramatic narratives. The underpinned Elizabethan Protestant identity. The Faerie Induction and the Interludes supply a commentary on Queene is referred to in The Knight o f the Burning Pestle (and intervene in) the two ‘inner’ narratives, that of (II.i80), but the contrast between Spenser’s stately epic Venturewell and his family (the story of ‘The London and Beaumont’s parody is complete, undermining a M erchant’) and the enactment of ‘The Knight of the project that, in more widely accessible forms than Burning Pestle’ itself. That the one story parodies Spenser’s, was represented in ballads, pageants and other London’s aspiring merchant class, and the other popular forms o f entertainments. satirises that class’s taste for chivalric romance, gives the Some of these entertainments were presented at M ile play a special sense o f topicality. The Citizen’s ‘Down End and it is not surprising that, towards the end of with your title, boy, down with your title!’ (Induction, The Knight o f the Burning Pestle, the action shifts to this 29), in response to what he predicts will be yet another location. Here, beyond the city walls o f London, was Blackfriars play poking fun at his class, is humorous but where the serious business of training soldiers had also emphatic; it is a cry from the heart of a class that traditionally taken place, an activity that the play was sensitive about its own emerging, but as yet ill- parodies in a subversive way. Yet it was also the scene defined, position at the centre o f London’s economic of the kind o f ‘misrule’ and carnival espoused by Rafe and social transformation. and M errythought, but severely condemned by the The sensitivity to social rank and identity is Puritans who were emerging as the more powerful and confirmed as it is exposed in Venturewell’s attempts at politically motivated representatives o f the social class manipulation in the business o f his daughter Luce’s from which Beaumont drew his characters. marriage: he is entirely willing to enhance his social The Knight o f the Burning Pestle is a compelling and position at the expense o f his daughter’s genuine desire often hilarious account o f the workings o f early for the ‘unsuitable’ Jasper. In turn, Jasper, similarly seventeenth-century theatre, a parody o f contemporary dismissed by his own mother, can rely on neither concerns over an evolving system o f social class, and a professional bonds (his indentures as an apprentice) or critique o f an earlier genre o f plays that celebrated an family loyalty. As for his love for Luce, and her love for ideal of ‘M erry England’, such as Thomas Dekker’s The him, these become tellingly confused by the play’s Shoemakers Holiday (i599). Yet many critics agree that continual recourse to the enactment of chivalric codes, the framing device o f the Induction and Interludes such as in the scene in W altham Forest in Act III tempts us to share the considerable and, finally, where Jasper ‘tests’ Luce. Humorous and bizarre as they unattractive, prejudices o f the Citizen and his W ife. are, such episodes suggest that in this dramatic world, Indeed, the play may put us in the position o f endorsing

Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright as much as in any tragedy, the ‘experience’ of the social easy solutions to the problematic social distinctions that is dictated by ‘codes’ of representation that are shaped shape the world o f the play, favouring a sense o f order by value judgements which confine rather than liberate. above the chaos that is achieved through the intersection

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The Routledge Anthology of Renaissance Drama, edited by Simon Barker, and Hilary Hinds, Routledge, 2002. ProQuest Ebook Central, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/villanova-ebooks/detail.action?docID=180234. Created from villanova-ebooks on 2020-03-17 13:42:37. FRANCIS BEAUMONT

o f social class with chivalric romance and festive release. Bliss, Lee (1987) ‘“Don Quixote in England”: The Case for M errythought, with his constant recourse to song in the The Knight of the Burning Pestle, Viator: Medieval and face o f adversity, makes us laugh until, perhaps, we Renaissance Studies, i8: 36i-80. Bliss, Lee (i987) Francis Beaumont, Boston, M A: Twayne consider the terms, and price, of his good humour. As Publishers. Arthur Kinney has remarked, ‘M errythought, after all, is Bristol, Michael D. (i985) Carnival and Theater, London: forever genial, yet that very geniality depends on the M ethuen. willingness o f others to support him - he survives on the Cook, Ann J. (1981) The Privileged Playgoers of Shakespeare's legacy o f others. H e can also carry his one-dimensional London 15/6-1642, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University philosophy to an excess we would consider inhuman: “If Press. both my sons were on the gallows, I would sing”’ Finkelpearl, Philip J. (i990) Court and Country Politics in the (Kinney 1999: 389). As with much of the comedy of the Plays of Beaumont and Fletcher, Princeton, NJ: Princeton p erio d , The Knight o f the Burning Pestle suggests that, University Press. beyond the laughter, there was a very real uncertainty in Hattaway, Michael (1982) Elizabethan Popular Theatre, London: Routledge and Kegan Paul. the shift from a late-medieval world into a recognisably Iselin, Pierre (ed.) (1996) Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher: modern one. The Knight of the Burning Pestle, Paris, France: Didier Erudition. Textual note Kirsch, Arthur C. (i972) Jacobean Dramatic Perspectives, Charlottesville, VA: University of Virginia Press. The Knight of the Burning Pestle was once thought to Leech, Clifford (i962) The John Fletcher Plays, London: have been written jointly by Francis Beaumont and his Chatto & Windus. long-term collaborator, John Fletcher (1579-1625), but Lesser, Z. (1999) ‘Walter Burre’s The Knight of the Burning we follow recent editors, and the evidence of careful Pestle, English Literary Renaissance, 29, i: 22-43. analysis o f the play’s stylistic cohesion, in attributing it Lindsay, E. S. (i924) ‘The Music of the Songs in Fletcher’s to Beaumont alone. This edition is based on the quarto P lays,’ Studies in Philology, X X I. Miller, Ronald F. (i978) ‘Dramatic Form and Dramatic of 1613 (referred to in the footnotes as Qi) and the two Im agination in Beaum ont’s The Knight of the Burning further quartos dated 1635 (Q2 and Q3). The play was Pestle, English Literary Renaissance, 8, i: 67-84. reprinted from Q3 (which may, in fact, have been later Osbourne, Laurie E. (i99i) ‘Female Audiences and Female than i635) for the second Beaum ont and Fletcher folio Authority in The Knight of the Burning Pestle, Exemplaria, of 1679. Copies o f these early editions are held in the 3, 2: 4 9 i - 5i7. British Library in London. This edition reproduces the Samuelson, David A. (i979) ‘The Order in Beaumont’s Knight seventeenth-century division o f the play into Acts and of the Burning Pestle, English Literary Renaissance, 9, 2: Interludes; further subdivision (into scenes), although 302-18. favoured by some modern editors, suggests an Steinberg, Glenn A. (1991) ‘“You Know the Plot/We Both Agreed On#”: Plot, Self-consciousness, and undermining of the unusual sense of pace and cohesion The London Merchant in Beaum ont’s The Knight of the Burning Pestle, achieved by the continued presence on the stage o f the Medieval and Renaissance Drama in England, 5: 2 ii-24 . Citizen and the Citizen’s W ife. Weimann, Robert (i978) Shakespeare and the Popular Tradition in the Theatre, London, Baltimore, M D: Johns Hopkins Further reading University Press.

Editions Works of related interest

Dyce, Alexander (ed.) (1843-6) The Works of Beaumont and Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy (i585) Fletcher, London: Edward Moxon. A n o n ., Mucedorus (i588) Hattaway, Michael (ed.) (1970) The Knight of the Burning George Peele, The Old Wives’ Tale (1591) Pestle, The New Mermaids, London: A. & C. Black. George Peele, Edward I (i59i) Kinney, Arthur F. (ed.) (1999) Renaissance Drama: An Thomas Heywood, The Four Prentices of London (1594) Anthology of Plays and Entertainments, Oxford: Blackwell. Thomas Dekker, The Shoemaker’s Holiday (i599) Murch, H. S. (1908) The Knight of the Burning Pestle, Yale Thomas Dekker, Old Fortunatus (i599) Studies in English, XXXIII, New York, NY. George Chapman, Ben Jonson and John Marston, Eastward Wine, M . L. (ed.) (1969) Drama of the English Renaissance, Ho! (1605) Modern Library College Editions, New York, NY: Thomas Heywood, I f You Know Not Me You Know Nobody Random House. (i605) John Day, William Rowley and George Wilkins, The Travels Critical and contextual commentaries of the Three English Brothers (1607)

Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright Aspinall, D. (i997) ‘The Role of Folk Humor in i7th-century Receptions of Beaumont’s The Knight of the Burning Pestle, Philological Quarterley, 76, 2: 169 -9 1.

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To His Many Ways Endeared o f Don Quixote: we both may confidently swear it is his elder above a year; and therefore may (by virtue of his Friend Master Robert Keysar birthright) challenge the wall o f him. I doubt not but they will meet in their adventures, and I hope the Sir, this unfortunate child who in eight days (as lately I breaking o f one staff will make them friends; and have learned) was begot and born, soon after was by his perhaps they will combine themselves, and travel parents (perhaps because he was so unlike his brethren) through the world to seek their adventures. So I exposed to the wide world, who for want o f judgement, commit him to his good fortune, and m yself to your or not understanding the privy m ark o f irony about it lo v e . 34 (which showed it was no offspring o f any vulgar brain) Your assured friend utterly rejected it; so that for want of acceptance it was W.B. even ready to give up the ghost, and was in danger to have been smothered in perpetual oblivion, if you (out of your direct antipathy to ingratitude) had not been moved both to relieve and cherish it. W herein I must To the Readers of this Comedy needs commend both your judgement, understanding, Gentlem en, the world is so nice in these our times, and singular love to good wits. You afterwards sent it to that for apparel, there is no fashion; for music, which me, yet being an infant and somewhat ragged; I have is a rare art (though now slighted), no instrument; for fostered it privately in my bosom these two years, and diet, none but the French kickshaws that are delicate; now to show my love return it to you, clad in good and for plays, no invention but that which now lasting clothes, which scarce memory will wear out, and runneth an invective way, touching some particular able to speak for itself; and, withal, as it telleth me, person, or else it is contemned before it is throughly desirous to try his fortune in the world, where if yet it understood. This is all that I have to say, that the be welcome, father, foster-father, nurse, and child, all author had no intent to wrong anyone in this comedy, have their desired end. If it be slighted or traduced, it but as a merry passage, here and there interlaced it hopes his father will beget him a younger brother who with delight, which he hopes will please all, and be shall revenge his quarrel, and challenge the world either hurtful to none. 12 of fond and merely literal interpretation, or illiterate misprision. Perhaps it will be thought to be o f the race

Robert Keysar: London goldsmith who, from about i606, had financed The Children of the Revels at the Blackfriars Theatre i eight days: the period o f composition (taken literally by 26 Don Quixote: the first part o f Cervantes’ novel was many scholars) printed in Spain in i 605 and an English translation (by 2-3 his parents: one piece of evidence for the idea ofjoint Shelton) appeared in i6i2, but both the original and the authorship, i.e. with John Fletcher translation are known to have circulated in some form 3 brethren: other plays before this 6 no offspring . . . vulgar brain: not an ordinary citizen 28 challenge the wall: claim the safer part of a footpath com edy (close to the wall) and thus take precedence 7 utterly rejected: either it was not performed or it was not 30 breaking of one staff: an incident from Cervantes appreciated 36 W .B.: Walter Burre, the publisher

i4 ragged: the author’s foul papers (manuscript) i nice: fastidious Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 20 father, foster-father, nurse, and child: i.e. author, 4 kickshaws: from quelque chose (French), dainties dedicatee, publisher, and play 7 throughly: thoroughly

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The Prologue A b o y that danceth and singeth AN HOST W here the bee can suck no honey, she leaves her sting behind; and where the bear cannot find origanum to A BARBER heal his grief, he blasteth all other leaves with his Three k n i g h t s supposed captives breath. W e fear it is like to fare so with us, that seeing you cannot draw from our labours sweet content, you A w o m a n , supposed captive leave behind you a sour mislike and with open reproach A SERGEANT blame our good meaning because you cannot reap the wonted mirth. Our intent was at this time to move SOLDIERS inward delight, not outward lightness; and to breed (if w illiam ham erton, a pewterer it might be) soft smiling, not loud laughing, knowing it to the wise to be as great pleasure to hear counsel mixed george greengoose, a poulterer with wit, as to the foolish to have sport mingled with p o m p io n a , a daughter to the K in g o f Moldavia rudeness. They were banished the theatre of Athens, and from Rom e hissed, that brought parasites on the Boys, Gentlemen, Attendants, Servants stage with apish actions, or fools with uncivil habits, or courtezans with immodest words. W e have endeavoured to be as far from unseemly speeches to Induction make your ears glow, as we hope you will be free from g e n t l e m e n seated upon the stage. The c i t i z e n , his w i f e , unkind reports, or, m istaking the author’s intention and r a f e below among the audience (who never aimed at any one particular in this play), to make our cheeks blush. And thus I leave it and thee to E nter p r o l o g u e thine own censure, to like, or dislike. Vale. 22 p r o l o g u e From all that’s near the court, from all that’s g re a t The Speakers’ Names W ithin the compass of the city-walls, W e now have brought our scene— THE PROLOGUE E nter c i t i z e n on to the stage from the audience below Then a citizen, george citizen Hold your peace, goodman boy. The citizen ’s w ife, n ell, and prologue W hat do you mean, sir? r a f e , her man, sitting below amidst the spectators citizen That you have no good meaning. This seven years there hath been plays at this house, I have venturew ell, a rich m e r c h a n t observed it, you have still girds at citizens; and now ja s p e r , his apprentice you call your play The London Merchant. Down with your title, boy, down with your title! 10 m aster HUMPHREY, a frien d to the merchant p r o l o g u e Are you a member of the noble city? l u c e , the merchants daughter c i t i z e n I am .

m istress m errythought, Jaspers mother Three knights: eds (Two knights Q2) M ICHAEL, a second son o f Mistress Merrythought sd g e n t l e m e n : tobacco-smoking gallants who paid for OLD MASTER MERRYTHOUGHT seats on the stage 1 court: at Westminster TIM , a SQUIRE I 2 city-walls: the walls that enclosed London north of the f Apprentices Tham es GEORGE, a DWARF J 11 4 Hold your peace, goodman boy: parody ofjohn Day’s Isle A TAPSTER of Gulls (1606) in which the Prologue is interrupted by playgoers telling him what they want to see 6-7 This seven . . . this house: The Children of the Revels The Prologue: from Q2, reprinted Sapho and Phao (1584) played at Blackfriars from 1600 to 1608 by John Lyly (c. 1554-1606) 8 still: always 2 origanum: a herb of the marjoram family girds: sneers i4 parasites: low-born (sometimes grotesque) attendants 9 The London Merchant, probably the play about

upon the rich Venturewell and his family Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 22 Vale\ farewell 10 title: a placard bearing the title of the play The Speakers’ Names: from Q2 11 member: citizen

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p r o l o g u e And a freeman? r a f e Peace, mistress. 40 c i t i z e n Yea, and a grocer. w i f e Hold thy peace, Rafe; I know what I do, I prologue So, grocer, then by your sweet favour, we warrant’ee.— Husband, husband. intend no abuse to the city. c i t i z e n W hat say’st thou, cony? citizen No, sir? Yes, sir! If you were not resolved to w i f e Let him kill a lion with a pestle, husband; let him play the jacks, what need you study for new subjects, kill a lion with a pestle. purposely to abuse your betters? W hy could not you c i t i z e n So he shall.— I’ll have him kill a lion with a be contented, as well as others, with The Legend o f p estle. Whittington, o r The Life and Death of Sir Thomas w i f e Husband, shall I come up, husband? Gresham, with the Building o f the R oyal Exchange, o r c i t i z e n Ay, cony.— Rafe, help your mistress this The Story of Queen Elenor, with the Rearing of London way.— Pray, gentlemen, make her a little room.— I Bridge upon Woolsacks'? 24 pray you, sir, lend me your hand to help up my wife; p r o l o g u e You seem to be an understanding man. I thank you, sir.—So. 52 W hat would you have us do, sir? w i f e comes up on to the stage citizen W hy, present something notably in honour of the commons of the city. w ife By your leave, gentlemen all, I’m something prologue W hy, what do you say to The Life and Death troublesome; I’m a stranger here; I was ne’er at one of of Fat Drake, or The Repairing of Fleet-prizies? 3 0 these plays, as they say, before; but I should have seen citizen I do not like that; but I will have a citizen, and Jane Shore once, and my husband hath promised me he shall be of m y own trade. any time this twelvemonth to carry me to The Bold prologue Oh, you should have told us your mind a Beauchamps; but in truth he did not. I pray you bear month since. Our play is ready to begin now. w ith m e. citizen ’Tis all one for that; I will have a grocer, and c i t i z e n Boy, let my wife and I have a couple of stools, he shall do admirable things. and then begin, and let the grocer do rare things. 61 prologue W hat will you have him do? p r o l o g u e But sir, we have never a boy to play him; citizen Marry, I will have him— everyone hath a part already. w i f e Husband, husband, for God’s sake let Rafe play w i f e below him; beshrew me if I do not think he will go beyond w i f e Husband, husband. th e m all. c i t i z e n W ell remembered, wife.— Come up, Rafe.— RAFE below I’ll tell you, gentlemen, let them but lend him a suit of reparel and necessaries, and, by gad, if any of them 13 freeman: one enjoying the privileges of the City all blow wind in the tail on him, I’ll be hanged. 70 following a successful apprenticeship 14 grocer: one of London’s twelve great livery companies r a f e comes up on to the stage (which also included the Mercers, Drapers, Fishmongers, w i f e I pray you, youth, let him have a suit of Goldsmiths, Skinners, Merchant Taylors, Haberdashers, reparel.— I’ll be sworn, gentlemen, my husband tells Salters, Ironmongers, Vintners and Clothworkers) 15 favour: play on ‘face’ you true: he will act you sometimes at our house, that 18 play the jacks: play tricks (i.e. ‘play the knave’) all the neighbours cry out on him. H e will fetch you 19 betters: adult companies up a couraging part so in the garret, that we are all as 20-4 all plays that glorified London. Dick Whittington was feared, I warrant you, that we quake again. W e’ll fear the legendary Lord Mayor who rose to his position from low estate; a play about him was entered in the Stationers’ Register in i605. Thomas Gresham appears in 43 cony: rabbit (and term of endearment) I f You Know Not Me, You Know Nobody, (i605) by 44 kill a . . . a pestle: the kind o f romance satirised in The Thomas Heywood; he built the Royal Exchange, a place Knight of the Burning Pestle often included battles with of resort opened by Elizabeth I. Queen Eleanor appears wild animals. An apprentice in Thomas Heywood’s The in Edward I (i59i) by George Peele; ‘The Building of Four Prentices of London (c. i594) claims he killed a lion London Bridge upon Woolsacks’ was a contemporary 48 shall I come up?: women rarely sat on the stage dance inspired by the raising of taxes on wool to finance 65 Jane Shore: mistress of Edward IV who appears in the bridge H eyw ood ’s Edward IV (i599) 25 understanding: a joke referring to the fact that the 57-8 The Bold Beauchamps: a lost play attributed to Heywood spectators were below the stage 65 beshrew me: ‘the devil take me’ 28 commons: the body of freemen 69 reparel: apparel (archaic)

29-30 The Life . . . Fleet-prizies: probably an invention (Fleet 70 blow wind in the tail: come near (from horse-racing) Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright Ditch was used as a sewer) 74 cry out: complain of 36 admirable: wonderful 75 couraging: spirited

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our children with him: if they be never so unruly, do p r o l o g u e Shawms? No. but cry, ‘Rafe comes, Rafe comes’, to them, and c i t i z e n No? I’m a thief if my mind did not give me so. they’ll be as quiet as lambs.— H old up thy head, Rafe; Rafe plays a stately part, and he must needs have show the gentlemen what thou canst do; speak a shawms; I’ll be at the charge o f them myself, rather huffing part; I warrant you the gentlemen will accept than w e’ll be without them. o f it. 82 p r o l o g u e So you are like to be. c i t i z e n Do, Rafe, do. c i t i z e n W hy, and so I will be. There’s two shillings; r a f e By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap let’s have the waits of Southwark. They are as rare To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, fellows as any are in England; and that will fetch Or dive into the bottom of the sea them all o’er the water with a vengeance, as if they W here never fathom-line touched any ground were mad. 122 And pluck up drowned honour from the lake of hell. p r o l o g u e You shall have them. W ill you sit down then? c i t i z e n H ow say you, gentlemen, is it not as I told c i t i z e n Ay. Come, wife. y o u ? 9 0 w i f e Sit you merry all, gentlemen. I’m bold to sit w i f e Nay, gentlemen, he hath played before, my amongst you for my ease. husband says, M ucedorus before the wardens of our p r o l o g u e From all that’s near the court, from all that’s co m p a n y . g re a t citizen Ay, and he should have played Jeronimo with W ithin the compass of the city-walls, a shoemaker for a wager. W e now have brought our scene. Fly far from hence prologue H e shall have a suit of apparel if he will go in. All private taxes, immodest phrases, i30 citizen In, Rafe; in, Rafe; and set out the grocery in W hate’er may but show like vicious: their kind, if thou lov’st me. E x it r a f e For wicked mirth never true pleasure brings, w i f e I warrant our Rafe will look finely when he’s But honest minds are pleased with honest things. dressed. 100 — Thus much for that we do; but for Rafe’s part you prologue But what will you have it called? must answer for yourself. E x it c i t i z e n The Grocers’ Honour. c i t i z e n Take you no care for Rafe; he’ll discharge prologue Methinks The Knight of the Burning Pestle himself, I warrant you. were better. w i f e I’ faith, gentlemen, I’ll give my word for Rafe. w i f e I’ll be sworn, husband, that’s as good a name as can b e . Act I c i t i z e n Let it be so. Begin, begin; my wife and I will sit d o w n . Enter m erchant venturew ell and ja s p e r , his p r o l o g u e I pray you, do. prentice c i t i z e n W hat stately music have you? You have m e r c h a n t Sirrah, I’ll make you know you are my sh a w m s? i n p re n tic e , And whom my charitable love redeemed 81 huffing: bombastic Even from the fall of fortune; gave thee heat 84-8 By heaven . . . of hell: a version of Hotspur’s speech in And growth to be what now thou art, new cast thee; 1 Henry IV, I.iii.199-3; Shakespeare’s fourth line reads: Adding the trust of all I have at home, ‘And pluck up drowned honour by the locks’ (Rafe In foreign staples, or upon the sea, substitutes a contemporary commonplace) T o thy direction; tied the good opinions 92 Mucedorus: reference to a popular anonymous play of the late sixteenth century that mixed high romance with Both o f m yself and friends to thy endeavours: buffoonery So fair were thy beginnings. But with these, before the wardens: livery companies played at the Guildhall and at court; the companies were directed by ii9 waits: musicians employed by the City wardens 121 o’er the water: over the Thames (from Southwark) 94 Jeronimo: i.e. Hieronimo, the protagonist of The Spanish i30 private taxes: attacks on individuals Tragedy immodest phrases: obscenities 96 go in: to the tiring-house (behind the stage) where 136 discharge: a) acquit; b) ejaculate costumes were kept i Sirrah: common form of address (to an inferior) 97-8 in their kind: each company had its distinctive livery 3 fall of fortune: poverty 103 The Knight of the Burning Pestle: a pestle would be used 3-4 heat/And growth: room and board by grocers as a tool in the preparation o f their wares, but 4 new cast: reformed

it also had a phallic connotation. ‘Burning’ means ‘gilded’ 5 trust: use Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright but also refers to the effects o f syphilis 6 staples: a) storehouses; b) centres o f trade iii shawms: early oboes 9 fair: promising

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As I remember, you had never charge 10 W hat I expected long, no more your father’s. To love your master’s daughter, and even then l u c e B u t m in e. W hen I had found a wealthy husband for her. j a s p e r But yours, and only yours, I am; I take it, sir, you had not; but, however, That’s all I have to keep me from the statute. I’ll break the neck of that commission You dare be constant still? And make you know you are but a merchant’s factor. l u c e Oh, fear me not. j a s p e r Sir, I do liberally confess I am yours, In this I dare be better than a woman: Bound both by love and duty to your service, Nor shall his anger nor his offers move me, 50 In which my labour hath been all my profit. W ere they both equal to a prince’s power. I have not lost in bargain, nor delighted j a s p e r You know my rival? To wear your honest gains upon my back, 20 l u c e Yes, and love him dearly, Nor have I given a pension to my blood, Even as I love an ague or foul weather; O r lavishly in play consumed your stock. I prithee, Jasper, fear him not. These, and the miseries that do attend them, j a s p e r O h , n o , I dare with innocence proclaim are strangers I do not mean to do him so much kindness. To all my temperate actions. For your daughter, But to our own desires: you know the plot If there be any love to m y deservings W e both agreed on? Borne by her virtuous self, I cannot stop it; l u c e Yes, and will perform N or am I able to refrain her wishes. M y part exactly. She’s private to herself and best o f knowledge j a s p e r I desire no more. Whom she’ll make so happy as to sigh for. 30 Farewell, and keep m y heart; ’tis yours. Besides, I cannot think you mean to match her l u c e I take it; 59 Unto a fellow o f so lame a presence, H e must do miracles makes me forsake it. Exeunt One that hath little left of nature in him. citizen Fie upon ’em, little infidels: what a matter’s m e r c h a n t ’Tis very well, sir. I can tell your wisdom here now! W ell, I’ll be hanged for a halfpenny, if H ow all this shall be cured. there be not some abomination knavery in this play. j a s p e r Your care becomes you. W ell, let ’em look to’t. Rafe must come, and if there m e r c h a n t And thus it must be, sir: I here discharge you be any tricks a-brewing— M y house and service. Take your liberty, w ife Let ’em brew and bake too, husband, a God’s And when I want a son I’ll send for you. E x it name. Rafe will find all out, I warrant you, and they j a s p e r These be the fair rewards of them that love. were older than they are.— Oh you that live in freedom, never prove 40 Enter b o y The travail of a mind led by desire! I pray, m y pretty youth, is Rafe ready? Enter l u c e b o y He will be presently. 70 l u c e W hy, how now, friend? Struck with my father’s w ife Now, I pray you, make my commendations unto th u n d er? him, and withal carry him this stick o f liquorice. Tell j a s p e r Struck, and struck dead, unless the remedy him his mistress sent it him, and bid him bite a piece; Be full o f speed and virtue. I am now ’twill open his pipes the better, say. E x it b o y

Enter m e r c h a n t and m a s t e r h u m p h r e y

13 you had not: i.e. given up your love for someone superior (in social rank) 47 the statute: a) that against rogues, vagabonds and however: notwithstanding masterless men; b) that o f i562 which meant that 14 commission: a) act o f courtship; b) professional remit apprentices could not leave their masters’ parishes. Both 15 factor: agent, deputy statutes were enforced by provision for imprisonment 16 liberally: willingly 49 better than a woman: women were thought to be 21 pension: market value irredeemably ‘inconstant’ 22 play: gambling 53 ague: fever (often the result of damp weather) 28 refrain: curb 54 I prithee: ‘I pray you’ 29 private to . . . o f knowledge: free to decide and knows 6i infidels: ‘George’s natural and class loyalty is to the best o f all merchant’ (Kinney) 32 presence: personality 67 and: if 33 little left o f nature: ‘little life-force’ 69 pretty: clever

38 son: i.e. son-in-law 72-4 stick o f . . . better, say: liquorice was used to loosen Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 40 prove: experience phlegm and clear the throat; the W ife has a supply of 44 speed and virtue: determination and goodness such remedies which are mocked throughout the play

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m e r c h a n t Com e, sir, she’s yours; upon my faith, she’s w i f e A whoreson tyrant! H ’as been an old stringer in’s y o u rs; days, I warrant him. iii You have my hand. For other idle lets h u m p h r e y I take your gentle offer, and withal Between your hopes and her, thus with a wind Yield love again for love reciprocal. They are scattered and no more. M y wanton prentice, m e r c h a n t W hat, Luce! W ithin there! That like a bladder blew him self with love, E nter l u c e I have let out, and sent him to discover 80 New masters yet unknown. l u c e Called you, sir? h u m p h r e y I thank you, sir, MERCHANT I did. Indeed, I thank you, sir; and ere I stir Give entertainment to this gentleman It shall be known, however you do deem, And see you be not froward.— To her, sir; I am o f gentle blood and gentle seem. M y presence will but be an eye-sore to you. E x it m e r c h a n t Oh, sir, I know it certain. hum phrey Fair Mistress Luce, how do you do? Are h u m p h r e y Sir, my friend, y o u w e ll? Although, as writers say, all things have end, Give me your hand, and then I pray you tell And that we call a pudding hath his two, How doth your little sister and your brother, i20 Oh, let it not seem strange, I pray, to you, And whether you love me or any other. If in this bloody simile I put LucE Sir, these are quickly answered. M y love, more endless than frail things or gut. 90 h u m p h r e y So they are, w i f e Husband, I prithee, sweet lamb, tell me one W here women are not cruel. But how far thing, but tell me truly:— Stay youths, I beseech you, Is it now distant from this place we are in, till I question m y husband. Unto that blessed place, your father’s warren? c i t i z e n W hat is it, mouse? l u c e W hat makes you think of that, sir? w i f e Sirrah, didst thou ever see a prettier child? H ow h u m p h r e y Even that face; it behaves itself, I warrant ye, and speaks, and looks, For, stealing rabbits whilom in that place, and perts up the head?— I pray you, brother, with God Cupid, or the keeper, I know not whether, your favour, were you never none o f M aster Unto my cost and charges brought you thither, Monkester’s scholars? 99 And there began— c i t i z e n Chicken, I prithee heartily, contain thyself; LucE Your game, sir. the childer are pretty childer; but when Rafe comes, h u m p h r e y Let no game 130 la m b — O r any thing that tendeth to the same, w i f e Ay, when Rafe comes, cony.— W ell, my youth, Be evermore remembered, thou fair killer, you may proceed. For whom I sat me down and brake my tiller. m e r c h a n t W ell, sir, you know my love, and rest, I w i f e There’s a kind gentleman, I warrant you. W hen h o p e , will you do as much for me, George? Assured of my consent. Get but my daughter’s, LucE Beshrew me, sir, I am sorry for your losses; And wed her when you please. You must be bold, But as the proverb says, I cannot cry. And clap in close unto her. Com e, I know I would you had not seen me. You have language good enough to win a wench. HUMPHREY So would I, Unless you had more maw to do me good. LucE W hy, cannot this strange passion be withstood? 76 lets: obstacles Send for a constable and raise the town. 141 wanton: promiscuous, 78 h u m p h r e y Oh no, my valiant love will batter down 79 bladder: inflatable animal’s bladder (with obscene M illions of constables, and put to flight connotation) 84 gentle blood: some status 87 pudding: blood sausage 92 youths: the boy actors 94 mouse: term o f endearment (as is ‘chicken’ and others) ii0 stringer: fornicator 95 prettier: m ore clever ii2 withal: also, as well 97 perts: perks ii6 froward: perverse 98-9 Master Monkester: Richard Mulcaster was Master of i25 warren: land preserved for the breeding of rabbits St Paul’s School from 1596 to 1608 and its boys’ troupe 127 whilom: while (archaic) played at the W hitefriar’s Theatre 128 whether: which

io i childer: children (dialect) 133 tiller: a) beam o f a crossbow; b) sexual quibble Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 108 clap in close unto her: embrace i37 proverb: ‘I am sorry for you but I cannot cry’ 109 wench: a) young girl; b) prostitute i39 maw: craving

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Even that great watch of M idsum mer day at night. Then ease me, lusty Luce, and pity show me. l u c e Beshrew me, sir, ’twere good I yielded then; l u c e W hy, sir, you know my will is nothing worth 180 W eak women cannot hope, where valiant men W ithout my father’s grant; get his consent, Have no resistance. And then you may with assurance try me. h u m p h r e y Yield then, I am full h u m p h r e y The worshipful your sire will not deny me; O f pity, though I say it, and can pull For I have asked him , and he hath replied, Out o f my pocket, thus, a pair o f gloves. ‘Sweet M aster Humphrey, Luce shall be thy bride’. Look, Lucy, look: the dog’s tooth nor the dove’s 150 l u c e Sweet M aster Humphrey, then I am content. Are not so white as these, and sweet they be, h u m p h r e y And so am I, in truth. And whipped about with silk, as you may see. l u c e Yet take me with you; If you desire the price, shoot from your eye There is another clause must be annexed, A beam to this place, and you shall espy And this it is: I swore and will perform it, F. S., which is to say, my sweetest honey, No man shall ever joy me as his wife 190 They cost me three and two pence, or no money. But he that stole me hence. If you dare venture, l u c e W ell, sir, I take them kindly, and I thank you. I am yours— you need not fear, my father loves you— W hat would you more? If not, farewell for ever. HUMPHREY Nothing. h u m p h r e y Stay, nymph, stay; l u c e Why then, farewell. I have a double gelding, coloured bay, h u m p h r e y Nor so, nor so; for, lady, I must tell, Sprung by his father from Barbarian kind; Before we part, for what we met together; 160 Another for myself, though somewhat blind, God grant me time, and patience, and fair weather. Yet true as trusty tree. l u c e Speak, and declare your mind in terms so brief. l u c e I am satisfied; h u m p h r e y I shall. Then, first and foremost, for relief And so I give my hand. Our course must lie I call to you, if that you can afford it; Through W altham Forest, where I have a friend I care not at what price for, on m y word, it W ill entertain us. So, farewell, Sir Humphrey, 200 Shall be repaid again, although it cost me And think upon your business. E x it l u c e M ore than I’ll speak o f now. For love hath tossed me h u m p h r e y Though I die, In furious blanket like a tennis-ball, I am resolved to venture life and limb And now I rise aloft, and now I fall. For one so young, so fair, so kind, so trim. l u c e Alas, good gentleman, alas the day. 170 E x it HUM PHREY h u m p h r e y I thank you heartily, and, as I say, w ife By my faith and troth, George, and, as I am Thus do I still continue without rest, virtuous, it is e’en the kindest young man that ever I’th’ morning like a man, at night a beast, trod on shoe leather. W ell, go thy ways; if thou hast Roaring and bellowing mine own disquiet, her not, ’tis not thy fault. That much I fear, forsaking of my diet citizen I prithee, mouse, be patient; ’a shall have her, W ill bring me presently to that quandary, or I’ll make some of ’em smoke for’t. 209 I shall bid all adieu. w i f e That’s my good lamb, George. Fie, this stinking l u c e Now, by Saint Mary, tobacco kills me, would there were none in That were great pity. England.— Now I pray, gentlemen, what good does h u m p h r e y So it were, beshrew me. this stinking tobacco do you? Nothing, I warrant you; make chimneys o’your faces.— Oh, husband, husband, now, now, there’s Rafe, there’s Rafe. i44 that great watch: the annual pageant (held on 24 June) at which the City and livery companies mustered the militia and constabulary to serve for the following year i79 lusty: intended as ‘pretty’ i49 a pair of gloves: gloves were traditional love-tokens given i87 take me with you: let this be clear at betrothals and weddings i 90 j ° y : enj ° y i52 whipped: embroidered 194 double gelding: horse for two riders i53-4 shoot from . . . this place: it was thought that a beam of 195 Barbarian: Barbary, a famous breed of horses from the light ‘shot’ from the eye returned with the image of what Saracen area of Africa it struck i99 Waltham Forest: north of London in Hertfordshire 155 F.S.: a) Humphrey bought them for someone else; b) a 204 troth: truth m erchant’s m ark; c) they w ere inherited 208 ’a: he 156 three and two pence: the gloves were expensive 209 smoke: suffer

i67-8 For love . . . furious blanket: Don Quixote was 2ii tobacco: smoking was identified with ‘gallants’ and Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright humiliated in this way condemned in many circles. King James discussed the i75 diet: a common treatment for venereal disease habit in A Counterblast to Tobacco (i604)

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Enter r a f e like a grocer in’s shop, with two prentices TIM possessions well enough, but they do not the rest. 250 and g e o r g e reading Palmerin of England r a f e There are no such courteous and fair well-spoken knights in this age: they will call one ‘the son o f a c i t i z e n Peace, fool, let Rafe alone. H ark you Rafe; do whore’, that Palmerin of England would have called not strain yourself too much at the first.— Peace!— ‘fair sir’, and one that Rosicleer would have called Begin, Rafe. 218 ‘right beauteous damsel’, they will call ‘damned r a f e (reads) ‘Then Palmerin and Trineus, snatching bitch’. 256 their lances from their dwarfs, and clasping their w i f e I’ll be sworn will they, Rafe; they have called me helmets, galloped amain after the giant; and so an hundred times about a scurvy pipe o f tobacco. Palmerin, having gotten a sight of him, came posting r a f e But what brave spirit could be content to sit in amain, saying: “Stay, traitorous thief, for thou mayst his shop with a flappet of wood and a blue apron not so carry away her that is worth the greatest lord before him, selling mithridatum and dragon’s water in the world”, and with these words gave him a blow to visited houses, that m ight pursue feats o f arms, on the shoulder, that he struck him besides his and through his noble achievements procure such a elephant; and Trineus, coming to the knight that had famous history to be written of his heroic prowess? Agricola behind him, set him soon besides his horse, c i t i z e n W ell said, Rafe, some more of those words, with his neck broken in the fall, so that the princess, R a fe . getting out o f the throng, between joy and grief said: w i f e They go finely, by my troth. 267 “A ll happy knight, the mirror o f all such as follow r a f e W hy should not I then pursue this course, both arms, now may I be well assured of the love thou for the credit of m yself and our company? For bearest me”.’ I wonder why the kings do not raise an amongst all the worthy books of achievements I do army o f fourteen or fifteen hundred thousand men, as not call to mind that I yet read of a grocer errant. I big as the army that the Prince of Portigo brought will be the said knight. Have you heard o f any that against Rosicleer, and destroy these giants; they do hath wandered unfurnished of his squire and dwarf? much hurt to wandering damsels that go in quest of M y elder prentice Tim shall be my trusty squire, and their knights. 238 little George my dwarf. Hence my blue apron! Yet in w i f e Faith, husband, and Rafe says true; for they say remembrance of my former trade, upon my shield the King of Portugal cannot sit at his meat, but the shall be portrayed a burning pestle, and I will be giants and the ettins will come and snatch it from called the Knight o’th’ Burning Pestle. h im . 24 2 w i f e Nay, I dare swear thou wilt not forget thy old c i t i z e n Hold thy tongue.— On, Rafe. trade; thou wert ever meek. 280 r a f e And certainly those knights are much to be r a f e T im . commended, who neglecting their possessions, t i m A n o n . wander with a squire and a dwarf through the deserts r a f e M y beloved squire, and George my dwarf, I to relieve poor ladies. charge you that from henceforth you never call me by w i f e Ay, by my faith, are they, Rafe; let ’em say what any other name but the ‘Right Courteous and Valiant they will, they are indeed. Our knights neglect their Knight of the Burning Pestle’, and that you never call any female by the name of a woman or wench, but sd like a grocer in’s shop: Rafe wears the blue livery of an ‘Fair Lady’, if she have her desires, if not, ‘Distressed apprentice D am sel’; that you call all forests and heaths ‘deserts’, Palmerin of England: Rafe actually reads from Palmerin and all horses ‘palfreys’. 290 d’Olivia translated from the Spanish by Anthony w i f e This is very fine, faith. D o the gentlemen like M unday. Palmerin of England was the sequel 227 elephant: ‘horse’ in the original but the effect is to parody the book 249-50 Our knights . . . the rest: possibly a reference to the 228 Agricola: the princess ‘Agriola’ in the Spanish text and sale o f knighthoods by King James M u n d ay’s translation 251-6 There are . . . ‘damned bitch’: a parody of Gertrude’s set him . . . his horse: unhorsed him speech in Eastward Ho! (1605) by George Chapman, Ben 231 mirror: model, paragon Jonson and John Marston 235 Portigo: Portugal 260 flappet: shop’s counter 236 Rosicleer: hero of Ortunez de Calahorra’s Espejo de 261 mithridatum and dragon’s water: a herbal medicine Principes y Caualleros, one of the romances owned by (named after King Mithridates and used against poisons) Don Quixote (translated into English as The Mirror of and another, stronger, preparation believed to cure fever. Knighthood by Margaret Tyler (1578-1601)) visited: i.e. by the plague

237-8 wandering damsels . . . their knights: a reversal of 27i grocer errant: Kinney notes that there was, in fact, a Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright romantic convention precedent in the figure of Eustace in Thomas Heywood’s 24i ettins: giants (from German) Four Prentices of London

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Rafe, think you, husband? master that loved thee well, and art come to me; and c i t i z e n Ay, I warrant thee, the players would give all I have laid up a little for m y younger son M ichael, the shoes in their shop for him. and thou think’st to bezzle that, but thou shalt never r a f e M y beloved squire Tim , stand out. Adm it this be able to do it. were a desert, and over it a knight errant pricking, Enter m i c h a e l and I should bid you inquire of his intents, what would you say? — Come hither M ichael, come, M ichael, down on t i m Sir, my master sent me to know whither you are thy knees; thou shalt have my blessing. 339 riding? 300 m i c h a e l I pray you, mother, pray to God to bless me. r a f e No, thus: ‘Fair sir, the Right Courteous and m i s t r e s s merrythought God bless thee; but Jasper Valiant Knight of the Burning Pestle commanded me shall never have my blessing. H e shall be hanged to inquire upon what adventure you are bound, first, shall he not, M ichael? H ow say’st thou? whether to relieve some distressed damsels, or m i c h a e l Yes, forsooth, mother, and grace of God. otherwise’. m i s t r e s s merrythought T h a t ’s a g o o d b o y. c i t i z e n W horeson blockhead cannot remember! w i f e I’faith, it’s a fine spoken child. w i f e I’faith, and Rafe told him on’t before— all the j a s p e r M other, though you forget a parent’s love, gentlemen heard him.— Did he not, gentlemen? Did I must preserve the duty of a child. not Rafe tell him on’t? 309 I ran not from my master, nor return g e o r g e Right Courteous and Valiant Knight of the To have your stock maintain my idleness. 350 Burning Pestle here is a distressed damsel, to have a w i f e Ungracious child, I warrant him; hark how he halfpenny-worth o f pepper. chops logic with his mother!— Thou hadst best tell w i f e That’s a good boy. See, the little boy can hit it; her she lies; do, tell her she lies. by my troth, it’s a fine child. c i t i z e n If he were my son, I would hang him up by ra fe Relieve her with all courteous language. Now the heels, and flay him, and salt him, whoreson shut up shop; no more my prentice, but my trusty halter-sack! squire and dwarf. I must bespeak m y shield and j a s p e r M y coming only is to beg your love, arming pestle. Exeunt t i m and g e o r g e W hich I must ever, though I never gain it. c i t i z e n Go thy ways, Rafe. As I’m a true man, thou And howsoever you esteem of me art the best on ’em all. 320 There is no drop of blood hid in these veins 360 w ife Rafe, Rafe. But I remember well belongs to you ra fe W hat say you, mistress? That brought me forth, and would be glad for you w ife I prithee come again quickly, sweet Rafe. To rip them all again, and let it out. rafe By and by. E x it r a f e m i s t r e s s merrythought I’faith, I had sorrow enough for thee, God knows; but I’ll hamper thee Enter ja s p e r and his mother, mistress m errythought well enough. Get thee in, thou vagabond, get thee in, m i s t r e s s merrythought Give thee my blessing? No, and learn of thy brother M ichael. I’ll ne’er give thee m y blessing, I’ll see thee hanged Exeunt j a s p e r and m i c h a e l first; it shall ne’er be said I gave thee m y blessing. OLD MERRYTHOUGHT (within) T h’art thy father’s own son, of the right blood of the (Sings) Nose, nose, jolly red nose, M errythoughts. I may curse the time that e’er I knew A n d who gaze thee this jo lly red nose# 36 9 thy father; he hath spent all his own, and mine too, m istress m errythought Hark, my husband; he’s and when I tell him of it, he laughs and dances, and singing and hoiting, and I’m fain to cark and care, sings, and cries, ‘A merry heart lives long-a’. And thou art a wastethrift, and art run away from thy 336 bezzle: squander (from embezzle) 344 forsooth: truly 294 shoes in their shop: boys’ costumes were elaborate and 350 stock: a) provisions; b) money costly 352 chops logic: formulates specious but cleverly conceived 296 pricking: spurring on his horse argum ents 308 gentlemen: the other playgoers on the stage 356 halter-sack: gallows bird 3i8 arming: armorial 364-5 sorrow enough: in childbirth 328 right: legitimate 365 hamper: a) basket for infants: b) prison fetters (as Jasper 332 ‘A merry heart lives long-a’: adapted from the song sung is a ‘masterless man’) b y A utolycus in Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale (i609), 368-9 Nose, nose . . . red nose#: refrain from Deuteromelia

IV.iii.iii3-i6; a similar line is sung by Silence in his (i609) by Thomas Ravenscroft Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 2 Henry IV (i597), V.iii.47 37i hoiting: revelling, roistering 333 wastethrift: spendthrift cark: carp, fret

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and all little enough.— Husband, Charles, Charles c i t i z e n Hang him, rogue. He served him well Merrythought. enough: love his master’s daughter! By m y troth, cony, if there were a thousand boys, thou wouldst Enter old m errythought spoil them all with taking their parts. Let his mother OLD MERRYTHOUGHT alone with him. (Sings) Nutmegs and ginger, cinnamon and clozes, w i f e Ay, George, but yet truth is truth. A n d they gaze me this jo lly red nose. o l d merrythought W here is Jasper? H e’s welcome m istress m errythought If you would consider your how ever. Call him in; he shall have his portion. Is he state, you would have little list to sing, iwis. m e rry ? 4 2 1 old m errythought It should never be considered m i s t r e s s merrythought Ay, foul chive him, he is while it were an estate, if I thought it would spoil my too merry.— Jasper! M ichael! singing. 380 E nter ja s p e r and m i c h a e l MISTRESS MERRYTHOUGHT But how wilt thou do, Charles? Thou art an old man, and thou canst not o l d merrythought W elcome, Jasper, though thou work, and thou hast not forty shillings left, and thou run’st away, welcome; God bless thee. ’Tis thy eatest good meat, and drinkest good drink, and mother’s mind thou shouldst receive thy portion. la u g h e st? Thou hast been abroad, and I hope hast learned OLD MERRYTHOUGHT And will do. experience enough to govern it; thou art o f sufficient m i s t r e s s merrythought But how wilt thou come by years. H old thy hand: one, two, three, four, five, six, it, Charles? 388 seven, eight, nine, there’s ten shillings for thee. o l d merrythought How? W hy, how have I done Thrust thyself into the world with that, and take hitherto this forty years? I never came into my dining some settled course. If fortune cross thee, thou hast a room, but at eleven and six o’clock I found excellent retiring place; come home to me; I have twenty meat and drink o’th’table; m y clothes were never shillings left. Be a good husband, that is, wear worn out, but next morning a tailor brought me a ordinary clothes, eat the best meat, and drink the best new suit; and without question it will be so ever. Use drink; be merry, and give to the poor, and believe me, makes perfectness. If all should fail, it is but a little thou hast no end o f thy goods. straining m yself extraordinary, and laugh m yself to j a s p e r Long may you live free from all thought of ill, d eath . And long have cause to be thus merry still. w i f e It’s a foolish old man this: is not he, George? But, father— 440 c i t i z e n Yes, cony. 399 o l d merrythought No more words, Jasper, get thee w i f e Give me a penny i’th’purse while I live, George. gone; thou hast my blessing; thy father’s spirit upon c i t i z e n Ay, by lady, cony, hold thee there. thee. Farewell, Jasper. m i s t r e s s merrythought W ell, Charles, you (Sings) B u t yet, or ere you part, oh cruel, promised to provide for Jasper, and I have laid up for Kiss me, kiss me, sweeting, mine own dear M ichael. I pray you, pay Jasper his portion; he’s come jew el. home, and he shall not consume M ichael’s stock. He So, now begone; no words. E x it ja s p e r says his master turned him away, but I promise you m i s t r e s s merrythought So, M ichael, now get thee truly, I think he ran away. g o n e to o . w i f e No indeed, Mistress Merrythought, though he be m i c h a e l Yes forsooth, mother; but I’ll have my a notable gallows, yet I’ll assure you his master did father’s blessing first. 450 turn him away, even in this place; ’twas, i’faith, m i s t r e s s merrythought No, M ichael, ’tis no matter within this half hour, about his daughter; my for his blessing; thou hast my blessing; begone. I’ll husband was by. 412 fetch my money and jewels and follow thee; I’ll stay

377 state: estate, dignity 4i6 taking their parts: a) supporting them; b) pun on sexual list: desire organs iwis: for certain 420 how ever: in any case 39i eleven and six o’clock: the hours of the day’s main meals 422 foul chive: ill betide 394-5 Use makes perfectness: ‘practice makes perfect’ 427-37 Thou has . . . thy goods: parody of OldFortunatus (proverbial) (i599) by Thomas Dekker 400 Give me . . . I live: i.e. never leave me destitute 432 cross: oppose 401 hold thee there: stick to that 434 Be a good husband: prudent (as in ‘husbanding’ his

404 portion: inheritance goods) Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 405 stock: inheritance 444-5 But yet . . . dear jewel: from Song X V in First Book of 409 notable gallows: deserving of hanging Songs or Airs (i597) by John Dowland

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no longer with him, I warrant thee. (E x it m i c h a e l ) Act II Truly, Charles, I’ll begone too. old m errythought What! You will not? Enter m e r c h a n t and h u m p h r e y m istress m errythought Yes, indeed will I. m e r c h a n t And how, faith, how goes it now, son OLD MERRYTHOUGHT H u m p h re y ? (Sings) Hey-ho, farewell, Nan, h u m p h r e y Right worshipful, and my beloved friend I ’ll never trust wench more again, ifI can. 459 And father dear, this matter’s at an end. m istress m errythought You shall not think, when m e r c h a n t ’Tis well— it should be so, I’m glad the girl all your own is gone, to spend that I have been Is found so tractable. scraping up for M ichael. h u m p h r e y Nay, she must whirl old m errythought Farewell, good wife, I expect it From hence (and you must wink; for so, I say, not; all I have to do in this world is to be merry, The story tells) tomorrow before day. which I shall, if the ground be not taken from me; w i f e George, dost thou think in thy conscience now and if it be, ’twill be a match? Tell me but what thou think’st, (Sings) When earth and seasfrom me are reft, sweet rogue. Thou seest the poor gentleman, dear The skies aloft fo r me are left. heart, how it labours and throbs, I warrant you, to be Exeunt at rest. I’ll go move the father for’t. 12 FINIS ACTUS PRIMI c i t i z e n N o, no, I prithee sit still, honeysuckle; thou’lt spoil all. If he deny him, I’ll bring half a dozen good Interlude I fellows myself, and in the shutting of an evening knock’t up, and there’s an end. b o y danceth. Music w i f e I’ll buss thee for that, i’faith, boy. W ell, George, w i f e I’ll be sworn he’s a merry old gentleman for all well, you have been a wag in your days, I warrant that. Hark, hark, husband, hark! Fiddles, fiddles! N ow you; but God forgive you, and I do with all my heart. surely they go finely. They say ’tis present death for m e r c h a n t H ow was it, son? You told me that these fiddlers to tune their rebecks before the great tomorrow 20 Turk’s grace, is’t not, George? But look, look, here’s a Before day break you must convey her hence? youth dances.— Now, good youth, do a turn o’th’ h u m p h r e y I must, I must, and thus it is agreed: toe.— Sweetheart, i’faith, I’ll have Rafe come and do Your daughter rides upon a brown-bay steed, some of his gambols.— H e’ll ride the wild mare, I on a sorrel, which I bought of Brian, gentlemen, ’twould do your hearts good to see him.— The honest host of the Red Roaring Lion, I thank you, kind youth; pray, bid Rafe come. i0 In W altham situate. Then, if you may, c i t i z e n Peace, cony.— Sirrah, you scurvy boy, bid the Consent in seemly sort, lest by delay players send Rafe, or by G od’s [. . .] and they do not, The fatal sisters come and do the office, I’ll tear some o f their periwigs beside their heads: this And then you’ll sing another song. is all riff-raff. MERCHANT Alas, E x it BOY W hy should you be thus full of grief to me, 30 That do willing as yourself agree To anything, so it be good and fair? Then steal her when you will, if such a pleasure Content you both; I’ll sleep and never see it, 460 think: i.e. stop to think, but To make your joys more full. But tell me why 467 reft: taken away You may not here perform your marriage? 3 present: instant w i f e G od’s blessing o’thy soul, old man! I’faith, thou 4 rebecks: early fiddles 5 Turk’s grace: some seventeenth-century travellers reported that Sultans were feared for their impatience 6 wink: turn a blind eye 8 gambols: leaping 15 shutting of an evening: dusk 8-9 wild mare: she means see-saw (proverbial for sexual 16 knock’t up: put an end to this intercourse) 17 buss: kiss 12 God’s [. . .]: the omitted word is probably ‘body’ (Christ’s 18 wag: mischievous youth body on the cross). Some eds note the Act to Restrain 24 sorrel: chestnut-coloured horse the Abuses of the Players (1606) as an explanation for 25 host: publican

this omission; compare Act II, l. 245 26 situate: located Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 13 periwigs: wigs were frequently worn by actors in 28 fatal sisters: the Three Furies who control a man’s life performance 30 full of grief to me: ‘complain about me’

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art loath to part true hearts, I see.— ’A has her, is a goodly matter; there has been a pitch-field, my George, and I’m as glad on’t.— W ell, go thy ways, child, between the naughty Spaniels and the English Humphrey, for a fair-spoken man; I believe thou hast men; and the Spaniels ran away, M ichael, and the not thy fellow within the walls o f London; and I English men followed. M y neighbour Coxstone was should say the suburbs too I should not lie.— W hy there, boy, and killed them all with a birding piece. dost not rejoice with me, George? 43 m i c h a e l Mother, forsooth— 81 c i t i z e n If I could but see Rafe again, I were as merry m i s t r e s s merrythought W hat says my white boy? as mine host, i’faith. m i c h a e l Shall not my father go with us too? h u m p h r e y The cause you seem to ask, I thus declare m i s t r e s s merrythought No, M ichael, let thy father (Help me, oh M uses nine): your daughter sware go snick up; he shall never come between a pair of A foolish oath, the more it was the pity; sheets with me again while he lives. Let him stay at Yet none but m yself within this city home and sing for his supper, boy. Com e, child, sit Shall dare to say so, but a bold defiance 50 down, and I’ll show my boy fine knacks indeed. Look Shall meet him, were he o f the noble science. here, M ichael, here’s a ring, and here’s a brooch, and And yet she sware, and yet why did she swear? here’s a bracelet, and here’s two rings more, and Truly, I cannot tell, unless it were here’s money and gold by th’eye, my boy. 91 For her own ease, for sure sometimes an oath, m i c h a e l Shall I have all this, mother? Being sworn, thereafter is like cordial broth. m i s t r e s s merrythought Ay, M ichael, thou shalt And this it was she swore: never to marry have all, M ichael. But such a one whose mighty arm could carry c i t i z e n H ow lik’st thou this, wench? (As meaning me, for I am such a one) w i f e I cannot tell; I would have Rafe, George; I’ll see H er bodily away through stick and stone, no more else, indeed la, and I pray you let the youths Till both of us arrive, at her request, 60 understand so much by word of mouth; for I tell you Some ten miles off, in the wild W altham Forest. truly, I’m afraid o’ my boy. Com e, come, George, m e r c h a n t If this be all, you shall not need to fear let’s be merry and wise. The child’s a fatherless child; Any denial in your love. Proceed; and say they should put him into a strait pair of I’ll neither follow nor repent the deed. gaskins, ’twere worse than knot-grass: he would never h u m p h r e y Good night, twenty good nights, and grow after it. 103 twenty more. Enter rafe, tim as s q u ir e , and g e o r g e as d w a r f And twenty more good nights— that makes threescore. Exeunt c i t i z e n H e r e ’s R a fe , h e re ’s R a fe . w i f e H ow do you, Rafe? You are welcome Rafe, as I Enter m istress m errythought with je w e l casket and may say; it’s a good boy, hold up thy head, and be not purse o f money, and her son m i c h a e l afraid; we are thy friends, Rafe; the gentlemen will m i s t r e s s merrythought Come Michael, art thou praise thee, Rafe, if thou play’st thy part with not weary, boy? audacity. Begin, Rafe, o’God’s name. 109 m i c h a e l No, forsooth, mother, not I. r a f e M y trusty squire, unlace my helm; give me my m i s t r e s s merrythought W here be we now, child? 70 hat. W here are we, or what desert may this be? m i c h a e l Indeed, forsooth, mother, I cannot tell, unless we be at M ile End. Is not all the world M ile End, mother? 76 pitch-field: mock battle, one of the many kinds of m i s t r e s s merrythought No, M ichael, not all the entertainment staged at M ile End in addition to the world, boy; but I can assure thee, M ichael, M ile End musters of the militia which were themselves often seen as a source o f entertainment 77 naughty: wicked 42 suburbs: ironic, since these were the unsavoury areas 78 Spaniels: Spanish beyond the jurisdiction of the city authorities 80 birding piece: amateurish gun 47 Muses nine: ironic, since the Muses inspire anything but 82 white: darling (white boy could mean favourite son) pledges 85 snick up: hang himself 5i noble science: fencing or boxing 88 knacks: trinkets (as in ‘knick-knacks’) 55 cordial: restorative 9i by th’eye: unlimited in quantity 65-6 Good night . . . makes threescore: a parody of many 97 youths: boy actors speeches from plays, including the balcony scene from 101 strait: tight Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet (c. ^95) 102 gaskins: breeches

72 M ile End: a hamlet one mile beyond the old walls of the knot-grass: a weed supposed to stunt growth (and hinder Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright city (on the road beyond Aldgate) used as a training sexuality); see Lysander’s comment in Shakespeare’s ground for the militia of citizen soldiers A Midsummer Night’s Dream (c. i595), III.ii.329-3!

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g e o r g e M irror of knighthood, this is, as I take it, the Show me thy better face, and bring about 150 perilous W altham Down, in whose bottom stands Thy desperate wheel, that I may climb at length the enchanted valley. And stand. This is our place of meeting m i s t r e s s merrythought Oh Michael, we are If love have any constancy. Oh age, betrayed, we are betrayed! Here be giants! Fly, boy; W here only wealthy men are counted happy! fly, boy; fly! H ow shall I please thee, how deserve thy smiles, Exeunt m o t h e r and M ICH AEL dropping purse and casket W hen I am only rich in misery? ra fe Lace on my helm again. W hat noise is this? M y father’s blessing, and this little coin A gentle lady flying the embrace Is my inheritance, a strong revenue O f some uncourteous knight? I will relieve her. 120 From earth thou art, and to earth I give thee. G o, squire, and say, the knight that wears this pestle Casts the money away In honour o f all ladies, swears revenge There grow and multiply, whilst fresher air 160 Upon that recreant coward that pursues her. Breeds me a fresher fortune.— How, illusion? G o comfort her, and that same gentle squire Spies the casket That bears her company. W hat, hath the devil coined him self before me? tim I go brave knight. E x it ’Tis metal good, it rings well; I am walking, r a f e M y trusty dwarf and friend, reach me my shield, And taking too, I hope. Now God’s dear blessing And hold it while I swear. First by my knighthood; Upon his heart that left it here. ’Tis mine; Then by the soul of Amadis de Gaul, These pearls, I take it, were not left for swine. E x it M y famous ancestor; then by my sword w ife I do not like that this unthrifty youth should The beautious Brionella girt about me; 130 embezzle away the money; the poor gentlewoman his By this bright burning pestle, of mine honour mother will have a heavy heart for it, God knows. The living trophy; and by all respect citizen And reason good, sweetheart. 170 Due to distressed damsels: here I vow w i f e But let him go. I’ll tell Rafe a tale in’s ear shall Never to end the quest of this fair lady fetch him again with a wanion, I warrant him, if he And that forsaken squire, till by my valour be above ground; and besides, George, here are a I gain their liberty. number o f sufficient gentlemen can witness, and g e o r g e Heaven bless the knight 136 myself, and yourself, and the musicians, if we be That thus relieves poor errant gentlewomen. Exeunt called in question. But here comes Rafe, George; w ife Ay, marry, Rafe, this has some savour in’t.— thou shalt hear him speak, an he were an emperal. I would see the proudest o f them all offer to carry his Enter r a f e and g e o r g e as d w a r f books after him. But, George, I will not have him go away so soon— I shall be sick if he go away, that I r a f e Comes not Sir Squire again? shall. Call Rafe again, George, call Rafe again; I g e o r g e Right courteous knight, prithee, sweetheart, let him come fight before me, Your squire doth come and with him comes the lady, and let’s ha’ some drums and some trumpets, and let Enter m istress m errythought and m i c h a e l and t im him kill all that comes near him, and thou lov’st me, as SQUIRE George. 146 c i t i z e n Peace a little, bird; he shall kill them all, and For and the Squire of Damsels, as I take it. 180 they were twenty more on ’em than there are. 159 From earth . . . give thee: i.e. from dust to dust (in the ja s p e r E nter sense of the cycle of Fortune) 160 grow and multiply: parody of Christ’s parable of the j a s p e r Now, Fortune, if thou be’st not only ill, talents (Matthew 25.14-30) i62 coined: formed 112 g e o r g e : from this point Q i substitutes the speech prefix i66 These pearls . . . for swine: see Matthew 7.6 DWARFE for GEORGE i68 embezzle: squander i23 recreant: a) dishonourable; b) traitorous i72 wanion: vengeance 128 Amadis de Gaul: a Spanish knight, hero of a romance 174 sufficient: able named after him (translated by Anthony Munday in i77 an: as if parts from i590 to i6i8) emperal: emperor 130 Brionella: mistress of Palmerin’s friend, Ptolome i80 For and: as well as girt: fastened the Squire o f Damsels: ‘In Spenser’s The Faerie Queene i39-40 carry his books: ‘follow like a lowly pedant’ (Hattaway) [1590-6], III.vii.51ff, appears the Squire of Dames whose

149-52 Fortune, if . . . And stand: Jasper wants the wheel of task it is to find three hundred ladies who would “abide Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright Fortune (governing his fate) to raise rather than lower for ever chaste and sound”. W hen Satyrane meets him he him (thus showing its happier face) has found three’ (Hattaway)

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r a f e M adam , if any service or devoir h u m p h r e y Good M istress Luce, however I in fault am O f a poor errant knight may right your wrongs, For your lame horse, you’re welcome unto W altham . Com mand it; I am prest to give you succour, But which way now to go or what to say For to the holy end I bear my armour. I know not truly till it be broad day. m i s t r e s s merrythought Alas sir, I am a poor l u c e Oh fear not, M aster Humphrey, I am guide gentlewoman, and I have lost my money in this For this place good enough. fo re st. h u m p h r e y Then up and ride, r a f e Desert, you would say, lady, and not lost Or, if it please you, walk for your repose, W hilst I have sword and lance. D ry up your tears O r sit, or if you will, go pluck a rose; Which ill befit the beauty of that face, 190 Either of which shall be indifferent 230 And tell the story, if I may request it, To your good friend and Humphrey, whose consent O f your disastrous fortune. Is so entangled ever to your will, m i s t r e s s merrythought Out, alas! I left a thousand A s the poor harmless horse is to the mill. pound, a thousand pound, e’en all the money I had l u c e Faith, and you say the word, we’ll e’en sit down laid up for this youth, upon the sight o f your And take a nap. mastership; you looked so grim, and, as I may say it, h u m p h r e y ’Tis better in the town, saving your presence, more like a giant than a mortal W here we may nap together; for, believe me, m an . T o sleep without a snatch would mickle grieve me. r a f e I am as you are, lady; so are they l u c e You’re merry, M aster Humphrey. All mortal. But why weeps this gentle squire? 200 h u m p h r e y S o I am , m i s t r e s s merrythought Has he not cause to weep, And have been ever merry from my dam. do you think, when he hath lost his inheritance? l u c e Your nurse had the less labour. r a f e Young hope of valour, weep not; I am here h u m p h r e y Faith, it may be, That will confound thy foe and pay it dear Unless it were by chance I did beray me. 241 Upon his coward head, that dares deny E nter ja s p e r Distressed squires and ladies equity. I have but one horse, on which shall ride j a s p e r Luce, dear friend Luce! This lady fair behind me, and before l u c e Here, Jasper. This courteous squire; fortune will give us more j a s p e r You are mine. Upon our next adventure. Fairly speed 210 h u m p h r e y If it be so, my friend, you use me fine; Beside us, squire and dwarf, to do us need. Exeunt W hat do you think I am? citizen Did not I tell you, Nell, what your man would j a s p e r An arrant noddy. do? By the faith of my body, wench, for clean action h u m p h r e y A word of obloquy! Now, by God’s body, and good delivery they may all cast their caps at him. I’ll tell thy master, for I know thee well. w ife And so they may, i’faith, for I dare speak it j a s p e r Nay, and you be so forward for to tell, boldly, the twelve companies of London cannot Take that, and that, and tell him, sir, I gave it, match him, timber for timber. W ell, George, and he Beats him be not inveigled by some o f these paltry players, I ha’ And say I paid you well. much marvel; but, George, we ha’ done our parts if h u m p h r e y Oh, sir, I have it, the boy have any grace to be thankful. 220 And do confess the payment. Pray be quiet. 250 c i t i z e n Yes, I warrant thee, duckling. j a s p e r Go, get to your night-cap and the diet

Enter H UM PH REY and l u c e 229 pluck a rose: a) urinate (most eds); b) euphemism for i8i devoir: duty (in chivalric terms) defecate (Wine) i83 prest: prepared, from pret (French) 235 nap: a) sleep; b) drink i85—7 I am . . . this forest: see Palmerin d’Olizia: ‘Palmerin 237 snatch: snack and Ptoleme met with a Damsel, who made great moan mickle: much (northern English and still used in for a casket which two knights had forcibly taken from Scotland) her’ (I.2i) 239 dam: mother 200 All: wholly 24i beray: befoul myself 206 equity: justice 244 arrant noddy: itinerant fool (or simpleton) 213 clean: adroit 245 God’s body: see Interlude I, l. i2n 214 cast their caps at: give up trying to imitate 250 confess: acknowledge

216 twelve companies: see Induction, l. i4n quiet: at peace Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 217 timber for timber: like for like 251 night-cap: nightcaps were especially worn during ill 218 inveigled: boys were sometime kidnapped as possible actors health

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To cure your beaten bones. contrary, and ’twill hazard the spoiling of our play. LucE Alas, poor Humphrey, citizen Plot me no plots. I’ll ha’ Rafe come out; I’ll Get thee some wholesome broth with sage and make your house too hot for you else. c o m fre y ; boy W hy, sir, he shall; but if anything fall out of order, A little oil of roses and a feather the gentlemen must pardon us. T o ’noint thy back withal. citizen Go your ways, goodman boy. (E x it boy)— I’ll h u m p h r e y When I came hither, hold him a penny he shall have his bellyful o f fighting W ould I had gone to Paris with John Dory. now. Ho, here comes Rafe; no more. 290 LucE Farewell, my pretty Num p; I am very sorry Enter rafe, m istress m errythought, m ichael, tim I cannot bear thee company. as s q u ir e , and g e o r g e as d w a r f h u m p h r e y F a r e w e ll; The devil’s dam was ne’er so banged in hell. 259 r a f e W hat knight is that, squire? A sk him if he keep Exeunt l u c e and ja s p e r . M anet h u m p h r e y The passage, bound by love o f lady fair, w ife This young Jasper will prove me another thing, O r else but prickant. o’my conscience, and he may be suffered. George, h u m p h r e y Sir, I am no knight, dost not see, George, how ’a swaggers, and flies at the But a poor gentleman, that this same night very heads o’folks as he were a dragon? W ell, if I do Had stolen from me on yonder green not do his lesson for wronging the poor gentleman, I M y lovely wife, and suffered (to be seen am no true woman. His friends that brought him up Yet extant on my shoulders) such a greeting m ight have been better occupied, iwis, than ha’ That whilst I live I shall think o f that meeting. taught him these fegaries; he’s e’en in the highway to w i f e Ay, Rafe, he beat him unmercifully, Rafe; and the gallows, God bless him. thou spar’st him, Rafe, I would thou wert hanged. 300 citizen You’re too bitter, cony; the young man may c i t i z e n No more, wife, no more. do well enough for all this. 270 r a f e W here is the caitiff wretch hath done this deed? w i f e Com e hither, M aster Humphrey; has he hurt you? Lady, your pardon, that I may proceed N ow beshrew his fingers for’t. Here, sweetheart, here’s Upon the quest of this injurious knight. some green ginger for thee. N ow beshrew my heart, And thou, fair squire, repute me not the worse, but ’a has peppernel in’s head as big as a pullet’s egg. In leaving the great venture of the purse Alas, sweet lamb, how thy temples beat! Take the And the rich casket till some better leisure. peace on him, sweetheart, take the peace on him. Enter ja s p e r and l u c e E nter a b o y Here comes the broker hath purloined my treasure. c i t i z e n No, no, you talk like a foolish woman. I’ll ha’ r a f e Go, squire, and tell him I am here, Rafe fight with him, and swinge him up well- An errant knight at arms, to crave delivery 310 favouredly. Sirrah boy, come hither; let Rafe come in O f that fair lady to her own knight’s arms. and fight with Jasper. 280 If he deny, bid him take choice of ground, w i f e Ay, and beat him well; he’s an unhappy boy. And so defy him. b o y Sir, you must pardon us; the plot of our play lies t i m From the knight that bears The golden pestle, I defy thee, knight, 253 com frey: m edicinal plant (symphytum officinale) with Unless thou make fair restitution pink-purple or cream flowers found near ditches and O f that bright lady. streams; common in the south of England j a s p e r Tell the knight that sent thee 256 John Dory: hero of a song (music by Thomas H e is an ass, and I will keep the wench Ravenscroft, 1609) who is captured by highwaymen on And knock his head-piece. his way to visit the King of France r a f e Knight, thou art but dead, 257 Nump: a) a fool; b) nickname for Humphrey 259 The devil’s . . . in hell: reference to Morality plays in which the devil and his kin were belaboured by vices 283 spoiling: ‘George and Nell have attempted to redo the 267 fegaries: vagaries, pranks play by adding Rafe: now they attempt to rewrite it; 273 green ginger: medicine to relieve aches and pains eventually they will want to displace it’ (Kinney) 274 peppernel: lump, swelling 289 hold: bet 275-6 Take the peace on him: obtain sureties for his good 291-2 keep/The passage: guard the entrance to the castle conduct 293 prickant: riding fast (but with sexual connotation) 278 with: for, on his behalf 296 wife: i.e. betrothed

swinge: thrash 302 caitiff: wicked Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 278-9 well-favouredly: thoroughly 304 injurious: malicious 281 unhappy: good-for-nothing 308 broker: pimp

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If thou recall not thy uncourteous terms. m i c h a e l Indeed la, mother, and I am very hungry. w ife Break’s pate, Rafe; break’s pate, Rafe, soundly. 320 r a f e Take comfort, gentle dame, and you, fair squire, jasper Come, knight, I am ready for you. Now your For in this desert there must needs be placed p estle Snatches away his pestle M any strong castles held by courteous knights; Shall try what temper, sir, your mortar’s of. And till I bring you safe to one of those, 360 (Recites) “W ith that he stood upright in his stirrups, I swear by this my order ne’er to leave you. and gave the Knight of the Calf-skin such a knock w i f e W ell said, Rafe.— George, Rafe was ever (Knocks r a f e down) that he forsook his horse and comfortable, was he not? down he fell; and then he leaped upon him, and c i t i z e n Yes, duck. plucking off his helmet— ’ w i f e I shall ne’er forget him, when we had lost our hum phrey Nay, and my noble knight be down so child (you know it was strayed almost, alone, to so o n , Puddle W harf, and the criers were abroad for it, and Though I can scarcely go, I needs must run. there it had drowned itself but for a sculler), Rafe was Exeunt h u m p h r e y and r a f e the most comfortablest to me: ‘Peace, mistress’, says w ife Run, Rafe; run, Rafe; run for thy life, boy; Jasper he, ‘let it go; I’ll get you another as good’. D id he not, comes, Jasper comes. 331 George, did he not say so? 371 j a s p e r Com e, Luce, we must have other arms for you; c i t i z e n Yes indeed did he, mouse. Humphrey and Golden Pestle, both adieu. Exeunt g e o r g e I would we had a mess of pottage and a pot of w ife Sure the devil, God bless us, is in this springald. drink, squire, and were going to bed. W hy, George, didst ever see such a fire-drake? I am t i m W hy, we are at W altham town’s end, and that’s afraid my boy’s miscarried; if he be, though he were the Bell Inn. M aster M errythought’s son a thousand times, if there g e o r g e Take courage, valiant knight, damsel, and be any law in England, I’ll make some of them smart sq u ire; fo r ’t. 339 I have discovered, not a stone’s cast off, c i t i z e n No, no, I have found out the matter, A n ancient castle held by the old knight sweetheart: Jasper is enchanted; as sure as we are here, Of the most holy order of the Bell, 380 he is enchanted. H e could no more have stood in W ho gives to all knights errant entertain. Rafe’s hands than I can stand in my Lord M ayor’s. I’ll There plenty is of food, and all prepared have a ring to discover all enchantments, and Rafe By the white hands o f his own lady dear. shall beat him yet. Be no more vexed, for it shall be so. H e hath three squires that welcome all his guests: The first hight Chamberlino, who will see Enter rafe, tim as squire, george as d w a r f , Our beds prepared, and bring us snowy sheets, MISTRESS MERRYTHOUGHT and M ICHAEL W here never footman stretched his buttered hams; w i f e Oh, husband, here’s Rafe again.— Stay, Rafe, let The second hight Tapstero, who will see me speak with thee. H ow dost thou, Rafe? Art thou Our pots full filled and no froth therein; not shroadly hurt? The foul great lungies laid The third, a gentle squire, Ostlero hight 390 unmercifully on thee; there’s some sugar-candy for W ho will our palfreys slick with wisps of straw, thee. Proceed, thou shalt have another bout with him. And in the manger put them oats enough, c i t i z e n If Rafe had him at the fencing-school, if he did not make a puppy of him, and drive him up and down 36i my order: i.e. of knighthood the school, he should ne’er come in my shop more. 363 comfortable: helpful m i s t r e s s merrythought Truly, Master Knight of 367 Puddle W harf: Thames landing place at the foot of the Burning Pestle, I am weary. 355 St Andrew’s Hill (now Puddle Dock, near Blackfriars Bridge) criers were abroad for it: one responsibility of town criers 320 pate: head was to help find lost children 324 Calf-skin: refers to the calf-skin vellum on which old 368 sculler: either an oarsman or a light river boat romances were written 370 get: play on ‘beget’ 329 go: w alk 373 mess o f pottage: stew of boiled vegetables (and 334 springald: stripling sometimes meat) 335 fire-drake: dragon 378 I have discovered: the episode that begins here, where an 336 miscarried: come to harm inn is mistaken for a castle, is taken from Book I o f Don 342 have stood in: withstood Quixote 348 shroadly: severely (archaic form o f ‘shrewdly’) 385 hight: called (archaic)

lungies: louts (from Longinus, the soldier who thrust a 387 W here never . . . buttered hams: footmen ran with their Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright spear into the body o f Christ) masters’ carriages and greased their calves to prevent cramp 352 puppy: coward 39i slick: make sleek

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And never grease their teeth with candle-snuff. m e r c h a n t Get men and horses straight; we will be w i f e That same dwarf’s a pretty boy, but the squire’s a th ere g ro u tn o ll. W ithin this hour. You know the place again? ra fe Knock at the gates, my squire, with stately lance. h u m p h r e y I know the place where he my loins did sw ad d le. E nter t a p s t e r I’ll get six horses, and to each a saddle. t a p s t e r W ho’s there?— You’re welcome, gentlemen; m e r c h a n t M eantime I’ll go talk with Jasper’s father. will you see a room? Exeunt g e o r g e Right courteous and valiant Knight of the w i f e George, what wilt thou lay with me now, that Burning Pestle, this is the Squire Tapstero. 400 M aster Humphrey has not M istress Luce yet? Speak, r a f e Fair Squire Tapstero, I, a wandering knight George, what wilt thou lay with me? 442 H ight o f the Burning Pestle, in the quest c i t i z e n No; Nell, I warrant thee Jasper is at O f this fair lady’s casket and wrought purse Puckeridge with her by this. Losing m yself in this vast wilderness, w i f e Nay, George, you must consider M istress Luce’s A m to this castle well by fortune brought; feet are tender, and, besides, ’tis dark; and I promise W here, hearing o f the goodly entertain you truly, I do not see how he should get out of Your knight of holy order of the Bell W altham Forest with her yet. Gives to all damsels and all errant knights, c i t i z e n Nay, cony, what wilt thou lay with me that I thought to knock, and now am bold to enter. 409 Rafe has her not yet? 450 tap ster A n’t please you see a chamber, you are very w i f e I will not lay against Rafe, honey, because I have w e lc o m e . Exeunt not spoken with him. But look, George, peace; here w i f e George, I would have something done, and I comes the merry old gentleman again. cannot tell what it is. E nter old m errythought c i t i z e n W hat is it, Nell? w i f e W hy, George, shall Rafe beat nobody again? OLD MERRYTHOUGHT Prithee, sweetheart, let him. (Sings) When it was grown to dark midnight, c i t i z e n So he shall, Nell; and if I join with him, we’ll A n d all were fa st asleep, knock them all. In came M argaret’s grim ly ghost, A n d stood at W illiam’sfeet. 457 E nter h u m p h r e y and m e r c h a n t I have money and meat and drink beforehand till w i f e Oh, George, here’s M aster Humphrey again tomorrow at noon; why should I be sad? M ethinks I now, that lost M istress Luce, and M istress Luce’s have half a dozen jovial spirits within me (sings) I am father. M aster Humphrey will do somebody’s errand, three merry men, and three merry men. To what end I warrant him. 422 should any man be sad in this world? Give me a man h u m p h r e y Father, it’s true in arms I ne’er shall clasp that when he goes to hanging cries (sings) Troll the h e r, black bowl to me! and a wom an that will sing a catch in For she is stol’n away by your man Jasper. her travail. I have seen a man come by my door with a w i f e I thought he would tell him. m e r c h a n t Unhappy that I am to lose my child! 435 straight: at once Now I begin to think on Jasper’s words, 437 swaddle: beat soundly (from ‘swathe’) W ho oft hath urged to me thy foolishness. 440 lay: wager (with sexual connotation) W hy didst thou let her go? Thou lov’st her not, 444 Puckeridge: a Hertfordshire village twenty-three miles That wouldst bring home thy life, and not bring her. north of London (and sixteen miles beyond Waltham Forest) h u m p h r e y Father, forgive me. Shall I tell you true? 431 454-7 When it . . . William’s feet: a version of a verse from ‘Fair Look on my shoulders, they are black and blue. Margaret and Sweet W illiam’ (traditional) W hilst to and fro fair Luce and I were winding, 456 grimly: grim-looking H e came and basted me with a hedge-binding. 4 6 0 -1 I am . . . merry men: from a song that appears in Old Wives’ Tale (1591) by George Peele 463-4 Troll the . . . to me: from a song that appears in Summer’s Last Will and Testament (1592) by Thomas Nashe (1567 393 grease their . . . with candle-snuff: a common trick which 1601); see also ‘The Second Three-Man’s Song’ from prevented horses from eating Thom as D ekker’s The Shoemakers Holiday (1599) 395 groutnoll: blockhead 463 Troll: pass

403 wrought: embroidered 464 black bowl: drinking vessel Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 42i errand: worthy deed (errant Qi) catch: short, often bawdy song 434 basted: beat 465 travail: labour

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serious face, in a black cloak, without a hat-band, This mirth becomes you not, my daughter’s gone. carrying his head as if he looked for pins in the street; OLD MERRYTHOUGHT I have looked out of my window half a year after, and (Sings) Why, an i f she be, what care I# have spied that man’s head upon London Bridge. ’Tis Or let her come, or go, or tarry. vile. Never trust a tailor that does not sing at his work: m erchant M ock not my misery; it is your son his mind is of nothing but filching. 471 W hom I have made my own, when all forsook him, w i f e M ark this, George, ’tis worth noting; Godfrey H as stol’n m y only joy, my child, away. my tailor, you know, never sings, and he had fourteen OLD MERRYTHOUGHT yards to make this gown; and I’ll be sworn M istress (Sings) H e set her on a m ilk-white steed, Pennistone the draper’s wife had one made with And himself upon a grey, 5 10 tw elv e. He nezer turned his face again, OLD MERRYTHOUGHT B u t he bore her quite away. (Sings) ’Tis mirth that fills the zeins with blood, m erchant Unworthy of the kindness I have shown M ore than wine, or sleep, or food; T o thee and thine! Too late I well perceive L et each man keep his heart at ease, Thou art consenting to my daughter’s loss. N o man dies o f that disease. 4 8 0 old m errythought Your daughter! W hat a stir’s H e that would his body keep here w i’ yer daughter? Let her go, think no more on From diseases, must not weep; her, but sing loud. If both my sons were on the B u t whoezer laughs and sings, gallows, I would sing, N ezer he his body brings (Sings) Down, down, down they fall, 5 2 0 Into fezers, gouts or rheums, Down, and arise they nezer shall. Or lingeringly his lungs consumes, m erchant Oh, might I behold her once again, Or meets with aches in the bone, And she once more embrace her aged sire. Or catarrhs, or griping stone, o l d merrythought Fie, how scurvily this goes. ‘And But contented lizes for aye; she once more embrace her aged sire’? You’ll make a The more he laughs, the more he may. 4 9 0 dog on her will ye? She cares much for her aged sire, w ife Look, George, how say’st thou by this, George? I warrant you. Is’t not a fine old man?— N ow God’s blessing o’thy (Sings) She cares not for her daddy, nor sweet lips.— W hen wilt thou be so merry, Geoge? She cares not fo r her mammy; Faith, thou art the frowning’st little thing, when thou F o r she is, she is, she is, she is 530 art angry, in a country. M y Lord of Lowgaze’s lassy. m erchant For this thy scorn, I will pursue that son Enter m e r c h a n t O f thine to death. c i t i z e n Peace, cony, thou shalt see him taken down old m errythought Do, and when you ha’ killed too, I warrant thee. H ere’s Luce’s father come now. h im , OLD MERRYTHOUGHT (Sings) Gize him flowers enow, palmer, gize him (Sings) As you came from Walsingham flowers enow, From that holy land, G ize him red, and white, and blue, green, There met you not with my true loze 5 0 0 and yellow. B y the way as you came# m erchant I’ll fetch my daughter. m erchant Oh, Master Merrythought, my daughter’s old m errythought I’ll hear no more o’ your g o n e ! daughter; it spoils my mirth. 540 m e r c h a n t I say, I’ll fetch my daughter.

466-7 without a hat-band: sign of a Puritan 469-70 head upon London Bridge: after execution the heads of traitors were displayed on London Bridge as a warning 504-5 Why, an . . . or tarry: from ‘Farewell, Dear Love’, a to others; see EdwardII, I.i.ii8 popular song that appears in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night 47i filching: stealing (i60i-2), II.iii.9i 473 my tailor: tailors were believed to be dishonest 5 0 9 -K He set . . . milk-white steed: corresponds to a verse in fourteen yards: see The Roaring Girl, II.ii.90n ‘The Ballad of the Knight and the Shepherd’s Daughter’ 487 aches: pronounced ‘aitches’ 5 2 0 -i Down, down . . . nezer shall: from ‘Sorrow’s Story’ in 488 catarrhs: inflammation o f the nose and throat Jo h n D ow lan d’s Second Book of Songs and Airs (i600) griping stone: painful gallstone 525-6 make a dog on her: Venturewell has called himself

498-50i As you . . . you came#: a popular ballad about a village L u ce’s ‘sire’ Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright in Norfolk that was, until i538, a major Roman Catholic 536 enow: enough shrine to the Virgin M ary palmer: pilgrim

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OLD MERRYTHOUGHT Act III (Sings) Was never man fo r lady’s sake, Down, down, Enter ja s p e r and l u c e Tormented as I, poor Sir Guy, j a s p e r Com e, my dear deer, though we have lost our way, De derry down, W e have not lost ourselves. Are you not weary F o r Lucy’s sake, that lady bright, W ith this night’s wandering, broken from your rest, Down, down, And frighted with the terror that attends As ever men beheld with eye, The darkness of this wild unpeopled place? De derry down. LucE No, my best friend, I cannot either fear merchant I’ll be revenged, by heaven. 550 O r entertain a weary thought, whilst you Exeunt (The end o f all my full desires) stand by me. FINIS ACTUS SECUNDI Let them that lose their hopes, and live to languish Amongst the number of forsaken lovers, 10 Interlude II Tell the long weary steps, and number time, Start at a shadow, and shrink up their blood, Music W hilst I (possessed with all content and quiet) w i f e H ow dost thou like this, George? Thus take my pretty love, and thus embrace him. c i t i z e n W hy, this is well, cony; but if Rafe were hot j a s p e r You have caught me, Luce, so fast, that whilst I once, thou shouldst see more. live w i f e The fiddlers go again, husband. I shall become your faithful prisoner, c i t i z e n Ay, Nell, but this is scurvy music. I gave the And wear these chains for ever. Com e, sit down whoreson gallows money, and I think he has not got And rest your body, too, too delicate me the waits of Southwark. If I hear ’em not anon, For these disturbances. So, will you sleep? I’ll twinge him by the ears.— You musicians, play Come, do not be more able than you are; 20 ‘B a lo o ’. I know you are not skilful in these watches, w i f e No, good George, lets ha’ ‘Lachrimae’. 10 For women are no soldiers; be not nice, c i t i z e n W hy, this is it, cony. But take it; sleep, I say. w i f e It’s all the better, George. Now, sweet lamb, LucE I cannot sleep, what story is that painted upon the cloth? The Indeed I cannot, friend. Confutation of Saint Paul? j a s p e r Why, then we’ll sing, c i t i z e n No, lamb, that’s Rafe and Lucrece. And try how that will work upon our senses. w i f e Rafe and Lucrece? W hich Rafe? Our Rafe? LucE I’ll sing, or say, or anything but sleep. c i t i z e n No, mouse, that was a Tartarian. j a s p e r Com e, little mermaid, rob me of my heart w i f e A Tartarian! W ell, I would the fiddlers had done, W ith that enchanting voice. that we might see our Rafe again. l u c e You mock me, Jasper.

SONG ja s p e r Tell me, dearest, what is love# 542-9 Was never . . . derry down: from the medieval legend of l u c e ’Tis a lightningfrom above, 3 0 Guy o f Warwick, a popular hero o f romance and ballads ’Tis an arrow, ’tis afire, 2 hot: aroused 8 twinge: tweak ’Tis a boy they call Desire, 9 ‘Baloo’: a common word in the refrains of lullabies; ’Tis a smile possibly referring here to ‘Lady Bothwell’s Lamentation’ Doth beguile io ‘Lachrimae’: a set of pavans (courtly dances) by John Dowland (i605) 13 story is . . . the cloth?: a painted cloth (arras) or tapestry 3 broken: roused hung behind the stage 11 Tell: count 13-14 The Confutation of Saint Paul?: a bawdy malapropism 12 shrink up their blood: fear was thought to dry up the for ‘The Conversion of Saint Paul’ elements of the body 15 Rafe and Lucrece: bawdy pun on The Rape of Lucrece, a 20 able: capable of endurance poem by Shakespeare (1594) and a play by Thomas 21 watches: vigils Heywood (i608) 22 nice: reluctant, fastidious 17 Tartarian: a) another mispronunciation, of (Sextus) 23 take it: yield

Tarquinius who raped Lucrece: b) cant term for thief; c) 29-42 Tell me . . . love anew: the music for this song has Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright reference to the proverbial cruelty toward women o f the survived (see E. S. Lindsay in the further reading section inhabitants of Tartary, north of the Himalayas for this play)

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j a s p e r The poor hearts o f men that proze. M ay sing to aftertimes her constancy. Tell me more, are women true# H e draws his sword l u c e Some loze change, and so do you. Luce, Luce, awake. j a s p e r A re they fa ir, and nezer kind# l u c e Why do you fright me, friend, l u c e Yes, when men turn with the wind. W ith those distempered looks? W hat makes your j a s p e r A re they fro w a rd 4 0 sw o rd l u c e Ezer toward Drawn in your hand? W ho hath offended you? Those that loze to loze anew. I prithee, Jasper, sleep; thou art wild with watching. j a s p e r Com e, make your way to heaven, and bid the jasper Dissemble it no more; I see the god w o rld O f heavy sleep lay on his heavy mace (W ith all the villainies that stick upon it) Upon your eyelids. Farewell; you’re for another life. luce I am very heavy. She fa lls asleep l u c e O h Ja s p e r, 80 j a s p e r Sleep, sleep, and quiet rest crown thy sweet H ow have my tender years committed evil th o u g h ts. (Especially against the man I love) Keep from her fair blood distempers; startings, Thus to be cropped untimely? H orrors, and fearful shapes; let all her dreams j a s p e r Foolish girl, Be joys, and chaste delights, embraces, wishes, Canst thou imagine I could love his daughter, And such new pleasures as the ravished soul 50 That flung me from my fortune into nothing, Gives to the senses. So, my charms have took. Discharged me his service, shut the doors Keep her, you powers divine, whilst I contemplate Upon my poverty, and scorned my prayers, Upon the wealth and beauty of her mind. Sending me, like a boat without a mast, She is only fair and constant, only kind, T o sink or swim? Com e, by this hand you die; And only to thee, Jasper. Oh my joys, I must have life and blood to satisfy 90 W hither will you transport me? Let not fullness Your father’s wrongs. O f my poor buried hopes come up together w i f e Away, George, away; raise the watch at Ludgate, And overcharge my spirits. I am weak. and bring a mittimus from the justice for this Some say (however ill) the sea and women desperate villain.— Now I charge you, gentlemen, see Are governed by the moon: both ebb and flow, 60 the king’s peace kept.— Oh, m y heart, what a varlet’s Both full of changes. Yet to them that know this to offer manslaughter upon the harmless And truly judge, these but opinions are, gentlewoman! And heresies to bring on pleasing war c i t i z e n I warrant thee, sweetheart, we’ll have him Between our tempers, that without these were h a m p e re d . Both void of after-love, and present fear, l u c e Oh, Jasper, be not cruel; 100 W hich are the best of Cupid. Oh thou child If thou wilt kill me, smile and do it quickly, Bred from despair, I dare not entertain thee, And let not many deaths appear before me. H aving a love without the faults of women, I am a woman made of fear and love, And greater in her perfect goods than men; A weak, weak woman; kill not with thy eyes, W hich to make good, and please m yself the stronger, They shoot me through and through. Strike, I am Though certainly I am certain of her love, 71 read y ; I’ll try her, that the world and memory And, dying, still I love thee.

E nter m erchant, humphrey, and his men 35 proze: strive m e r c h a n t Whereabouts? 44 heavy mace: a mace was the emblem of Morpheus, the ja s p e r (Aside) No more of this, now to m yself again. classical god of sleep hum phrey There, there he stands with sword, like 45 heavy: drowsy 47 distempers: mental or physical disorders martial knight, 50 ravished: ‘transported from the body’ (Kinney) Drawn in his hand; therefore beware the fight, 54 is only: alone is 62-6 these but . . . of Cupid: ‘empty and false notions that pleasantly disturb the balance o f our emotions; for without these we should not experience either love in 77 wild with watching: mad with anxiety retrospect or the pangs of anxiety which are love’s chief 83 cropped untimely: ‘cut off from life before my time’

joys’ (Hattaway) 92 Ludgate: a station for the watch (and used as a prison) Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 70 make good: demonstrate 93 mittimus: a warrant, from its opening word ‘we send’ 72 try: put to the test 99 hampered: confined

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You that be wise; for, were I good Sir Bevis, 110 For thus refreshing o f our wearied limbs, I would not stay his coming, by your leaves. Stiffened with hard achievements in wild desert. 150 m e r c h a n t Sirrah, restore my daughter. t a p s t e r Sir, there is twelve shillings to pay. j a s p e r Sirrah, no. r a f e Thou merry squire Tapstero, thanks to thee m e r c h a n t Upon him, then. For comforting our souls with double jug; w i f e So, down with him, down with him, down with And if advent’rous fortune prick thee forth, him! Cut him i’th’ leg, boys, cut him i’th’ leg! Thou jovial squire, to follow feats of arms, m e r c h a n t Com e your ways, minion. I’ll provide a Take heed thou tender every lady’s cause, c ag e Every true knight, and every damsel fair; For you, you’re grown so tame.— Horse her away. But spill the blood of treacherous Saracens h u m p h r e y Truly I’m glad your forces have the day. And false enchanters that with magic spells Exeunt, manet j a s p e r Have done to death full many a noble knight. 160 jasper They are gone, and I am hurt; my love is lost, h o s t Thou valiant Knight of the Burning Pestle, give Never to get again. Oh, me unhappy, 120 ear to me: there is twelve shillings to pay, and as I am Bleed, bleed, and die! I cannot. Oh my folly, a true knight, I will not bate a penny. Thou hast betrayed me! Hope, where art thou fled? w i f e George, I pray thee tell me, must Rafe pay twelve Tell me if thou be’st anywhere remaining. shillings now? Shall I but see my love again? Oh, no! c i t i z e n No, Nell, no; nothing but the old knight is She will not deign to look upon her butcher, merry with Rafe. N or is it fit she should; yet I must venture. w i f e Oh, is’t nothing else? Rafe will be as merry as he. Oh, chance, or fortune, or whate’er thou art r a f e Sir knight, this mirth o f yours becomes you well; That men adore for powerful, hear my cry, But to requite this liberal courtesy, 170 And let me loving live, or losing die. If any of your squires will follow arms, w i f e Is’a gone, George? 130 H e shall receive from my heroic hand c i t i z e n A y , co n y. A knighthood, by the virtue o f this pestle. w i f e M arry, and let him go, sweetheart. By the faith o’ h o s t Fair knight, I thank you for your noble offer; my body, ’a has put me into such a fright that I Therefore, gentle knight, tremble, as they say, as ’twere an aspen leaf. Look o’ Twelve shillings you must pay, or I must cap you. my little finger, George, how it shakes. Now, i’truth, w i f e Look, George, did not I tell thee as much; the every member of m y body is the worse for’t. Knight o f the Bell is in earnest. Rafe shall not be c i t i z e n Come, hug in mine arms, sweet mouse; he beholding to him— give him his money, George, and shall not fright thee any more. Alas, mine own dear let him go snick up. 180 heart, how it quivers. c i t i z e n Cap Rafe? No.— Hold your hand, Sir Knight of the Bell; there’s your money. Have you anything to E nter m istress m errythought, rafe, m ichael, tim say to Rafe now? Cap Rafe! as SQUIRE, GEORGE as DWARF, HOST and a TAPSTER w i f e I would you should know it, Rafe has friends that w i f e Oh, Rafe, how dost thou, Rafe? H ow hast thou will not suffer him to be capped for ten times so slept tonight? Has the knight used thee well? 141 much, and ten times to the end of that.— Now take c i t i z e n Peace, Nell; let Rafe alone. thy course, Rafe. t a p s t e r M aster, the reckoning is not paid. m i s t r e s s merrythought Come, Michael, thou and I r a f e Right courteous knight, who, for the order’s sake will go home to thy father; he hath enough left to W hich thou hast ta’en, hang’st out the holy bell, As I this flam ing pestle bear about, i5i twelve shillings: a modest amount for the services W e render thanks to your puissant self, received Your beauteous lady, and your gentle squires, 153 double jug: strong ale 154 advent’rous: hazardous ii0 Sir Bevis: the hero of the famous medieval romance of prick thee forth: spur you on Sir Bevis of Hampton 156 tender: care for iii stay: wait for 158 Saracens: a loosely applied term; the ‘enemies of the ii6 minion: ‘hussy’ Crusaders, Moors who are the enemy of Don Quixote II7 you’re: until you are and, by extension, villains in the romances’ (Kinney) i25 deign: condescend 159 false enchanters: those whom Don Quixote believed i4i tonight: i.e. last night could turn inns into castles

i43 the reckoning: the bill for food, drink and 163 bate: deduct Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright accommodation at an inn i76 cap: seize, arrest i47 puissant: powerful, noble i79 beholding: indebted

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keep us a day or two, and we’ll set fellows abroad to HosT Not far from hence, near to a craggy cliff, cry our purse and our casket. Shall we, M ichael? 191 A t the north end of this distressed town, m i c h a e l Ay, I pray, mother. In truth my feet are full There doth stand a lowly house of chilblains with travelling. Ruggedly builded, and in it a cave w i f e Faith, and those chilblains are a foul trouble. In which an ugly giant now doth won, 240 M istress M errythought, when your youth comes Ycleped Barbaroso. In his hand home, let him rub all the soles of his feet and the H e shakes a naked lance o f purest steel, heels and his ankles with a mouse skin— or, if none W ith sleeves turned up, and him before he wears of your people can catch a mouse, when he goes to A motley garment to preserve his clothes bed let him roll his feet in the warm embers, and I From blood of those knights which he massacres, warrant you he shall be well; and you may make him And ladies gent. W ithout his door doth hang put his fingers between his toes and smell to them; A copper basin on a prickant spear, it’s very sovereign for his head if he be costive. 202 A t which no sooner gentle knights can knock m i s t r e s s merrythought M aster Knight of the But the shrill sound fierce Barbaroso hears, Burning Pestle, my son M ichael and I bid you And rushing forth, brings in the errant knight, 250 farewell; I thank your worship heartily for your And sets him down in an enchanted chair. k in d n e ss. Then with an engine which he hath prepared, r a f e Farewell, fair lady, and your tender squire. W ith forty teeth, he claws his courtly crown; If, pricking through these deserts, I do hear Next makes him wink, and underneath his chin O f any traitorous knight who through his guile H e plants a brazen pece o f mighty bord, Hath light upon your casket and your purse, 210 And knocks his bullets round about his cheeks, I will despoil him o f them and restore them. W hilst with his fingers, and an instrument m i s t r e s s merrythought I thank your worship. W ith which he snaps his hair off, he doth fill E x it with M ICHAEL The wretch’s ears with a most hideous noise. ra fe Dwarf, bear my shield; squire, elevate my lance; Thus every knight adventurer he doth trim, 260 And now farewell, you Knight of holy Bell. And now no creature dares encounter him. c i t i z e n Ay, ay, Rafe, all is paid. r a f e In God’s name, I will fight with him. Kind sir, r a f e But yet before I go, speak, worthy knight, G o but before me to this dismal cave If aught you do of sad adventures know, There this huge giant Barbaroso dwells, W here errant knight may through his prowess win And, by that virtue that brave Rosicleer Eternal fame, and free some gentle souls That damned brood of ugly giants slew, From endless bonds of steel and ling’ring pain. 220 h o s t (to tap ster) Sirrah, go to Nick the barber, and 240 ugly: fearsome bid him prepare him self as I told you before, quickly. 241 Ycleped: called, named (archaic) tap ster I am gone, sir. E x it t a p s t e r Barbaroso: a) barbarian; b) barber h o s t Sir knight, this wilderness affordeth none 242 lance: i.e. razor But the great venture where full many a knight 245 which he massacres: i.e. whose hair he cuts Hath tried his prowess and come off with shame, 246 gent: fair And where I would not have you lose your life 247 A copper . . . prickant spear: the traditional sign o f a Against no man, but furious fiend o f hell. barber-surgeon: an upright (‘prickant’) pole of red and r a f e Speak on, sir knight, tell what he is and where; white that, together with the basin, signified that a For here I vow upon my blazing badge, 230 barber could also draw teeth and let blood Never to blaze a day in quietness; 248 can: do 252 engine: comb But bread and water will I only eat, 253 crown: head And the green herb and rock shall be my couch, 254 wink: cleanse his eyes (see III.i.394) T ill I have quelled that man or beast or fiend 255 pece: cup That works such damage to all errant knights. bord: rim 256 bullets: small balls o f soap i9i to cry: proclaim the loss of 258-9 snaps his . . . hideous noise: refers to the much- 202 sovereign: beneficial satirised long hair of gallants: see, for example Francis costive: constipated Beaum ont’s The Woman Hater, or The Hungry Courtier 2ii despoil: deprive by force (i606) 2i7 sad: grave 260 trim: can also mean thrash or trounce

22i Nick: a) Don Quixote’s barber was called Master 266 That damned brood of ugly giants slew: reference to Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright Nicholas; b) play on the barber’s profession Rosicleer’s adventure with the giant Brandagedeon and 234 quelled: slain his thirty knights in The Mirror of Knighthood, I.xxxvi

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And Palmerin Frannarco overthrew, E nter a b o y I doubt not but to curb this traitor foul c i t i z e n Boy, come hither; send away Rafe and this A nd to the devil send his guilty soul. whoreson giant quickly. h o s t Brave sprighted knight, thus far I will perform b o y In good faith, sir, we cannot. You’ll utterly spoil This your request: I’ll bring you within sight 271 our play, and make it to be hissed, and it cost money; O f this most loathsome place, inhabited you will not suffer us to go on with our plot.— I pray, By a more loathsome man; but dare not stay, gentlemen, rule him. 310 For his main force swoops all he sees away. c i t i z e n Let him come now and dispatch this, and I’ll ra fe Saint George, set on before! M arch, squire and trouble you no more. p ag e. Exeunt b o y W ill you give me your hand of that? w i f e George, dost think Rafe will confound the giant? w i f e Give him thy hand, George, do, and I’ll kiss him. c i t i z e n I hold my cap to a farthing he does. W hy, I warrant thee the youth means plainly. Nell, I saw him wrestle with the great Dutchman and boy I’ll send him to you presently. E x it b o y hurl him. 280 w ife I thank you, little youth.— Faith, the child hath a w i f e Faith, and that Dutchman was a goodly man, if sweet breath, George, but I think it be troubled with all things were answerable to his bigness; and yet they the worms. Carduus benedictus and mare’s milk were say there was a Scotchman higher than he, and that the only thing in the world for’t. Oh, Rafe’s here, they two and a knight met and saw one another for George.— God send thee good luck, Rafe. 321 nothing; but of all the sights that ever were in London since I was married, methinks the little child E nter rafe, host, tim as s q u ir e , and g e o r g e as that was so fair grown about the members was the DWARF prettiest, that and the hermaphrodite. h o s t Puissant knight, yonder his mansion is; c i t i z e n Nay, by your leave, Nell, Ninivie was better. Lo, where the spear and copper basin are; w i f e Ninivie? Oh, that was the story ofjoan and the Behold that string on which hangs many a tooth wall, was it not, George? 291 Drawn from the gentle jaw of wandering knights. c i t i z e n Yes, lamb. I dare not stay to sound; he will appear. E x it h o s t E nter m istress m errythought ra fe Oh, faint not, heart. Susan, my lady dear, The cobbler’s maid in M ilk Street, for whose sake w i f e Look, George, here comes Mistress I take these arms, oh let the thought o f thee M errythought again, and I would have Rafe come Carry thy knight through all adventurous deeds, 330 and fight with the giant. I tell you true, I long to And in the honour of thy beauteous self see’t. M ay I destroy this monster Barbaroso.— citizen Good Mistress Merrythought, begone, I pray Knock, squire, upon the basin till it break you, for m y sake. I pray you, forbear a little; you shall W ith the shrill strokes, or till the giant speak. have audience presently; I have a little business. 299 w ife M istress Merrythought, if it please you to refrain Enter b a r b e r your passion a little till Rafe have dispatched the w i f e Oh, George, the giant, the giant!— Now, Rafe, giant out of the way, we shall think ourselves much for thy life. bound to you. I thank you, good M istress b a r b e r W hat fond unknowing wight is this that dares M errythought. E x it m istress m errythought So rudely knock at Barbaroso’s cell, W here no man comes but leaves his fleece behind? 267 Frannarco: the giant slain by Palmerin in Palmerin r a f e I, traitorous caitiff, who am sent by fate 340 d’Olivia, I.li To punish all the sad enormities 274 main: full 275 Saint George, set on before!: battle cry invoking the patron saint o f England 3i5 plainly: honestly 278 hold: pledge 319 Carduus benedictus: the blessed thistle (used as a 279 the great Dutchman: possibly a reference to a famous medicinal cure-all) German fencer who lived in early seventeenth-century mare’s milk: considered a good purgative London; ‘Dutchman’ was a term for speakers of both 326 sound: blow a horn Dutch and German 328 M ilk Street: between Cheapside and Gresham Street, 288 hermaphrodite: the citizens’ taste for ‘freaks’ is referred to originally London’s milk market in Epicoene and was satirised in a number o f plays, for 337 fond: foolish

exam ple, Jon son ’s The Alchemist (1610), V.i.2iff wight: man (archaic) Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 289 Ninivie: a contemporary puppet play about Jonah and the 339 fleece: a) beard; b) money (as in to ‘fleece’ someone) w hale 340 caitiff: wretch

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Thou hast committed against ladies gent Enter TIM as s q u i r e leading one winking, with a basin And errant knights. Traitor to God and men, under his chin Prepare thyself; this is the dismal hour t i m Behold, brave knight, here is one prisoner Appointed for thee to give strict account W hom this wild man hath used as you see. O f all thy beastly treacherous villainies. w i f e This is the first wise word I heard the squire b a r b e r Foolhardy knight, full soon thou shalt aby sp eak . H e takes down his pole r a f e Speak what thou art, and how thou hast been This fond reproach: thy body will I bang, u sed , And, lo, upon that string thy teeth shall hang. That I may give him condign punishment. Prepare thyself, for dead soon shalt thou be. 350 1 k n i g h t I am a knight that took my journey post r a f e Saint George for me! Northward from London, and in courteous wise barber Gargantua for me! They figh t This giant trained me to his loathsome den w i f e To him, Rafe, to him! Hold up the giant; set out Under pretence of killing of the itch; 390 thy leg before, Rafe. And all my body with a powder strewed, c i t i z e n Falsify a blow, Rafe; falsify a blow; the giant That smarts and stings, and cut away my beard lies open on the left side. And my curled locks wherein were ribbons tied, w i f e Bear’t off; bear’t off still. There, boy.— Oh, And with a water washed my tender eyes Rafe’s almost down, Rafe’s almost down. (W hilst up and down about me still he skipped), r a f e Susan, inspire me.— Now have up again. W hose virtue is, that till mine eyes be wiped w i f e Up, up, up, up, up! So, Rafe, down with him, W ith a dry cloth, for this my foul disgrace down with him, Rafe. 361 I shall not dare to look a dog i’th’ face. c i t i z e n Fetch him o’er the hip, boy. w i f e Alas, poor knight.— Relieve him, Rafe; relieve w i f e There, boy; kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, Rafe. poor knights whilst you live. 400 c i t i z e n No, Rafe, get all out of him first. r a f e M y trusty squire, convey him to the town, r a f e knocks the b a r b e r down W here he may find relief.— Adieu, fair knight. ra fe Presumptuous man, see to what desperate end E x it k n i g h t with TIM , who presently re-enters Thy treachery hath brought thee. The just gods, W ho never prosper those that do despise them, Enter g e o r g e as d w a r f leading one with a patch o’er his For all the villainies which thou hast done nose To knights and ladies, now have paid thee home g e o r g e Puissant Knight of the Burning Pestle hight, By my stiff arm, a knight adventurous. 370 See here another wretch, whom this foul beast But say, vile wretch, before I send thy soul H ath scorched and scored in this inhuman wise. To sad Avernus, whither it must go, r a f e Speak me thy name and eke thy place of birth, W hat captives hold’st thou in thy sable cave? And what hath been thy usage in this cave. b a r b e r G o in and free them all; thou hast the day. 2 k n i g h t I am a knight, Sir Pockhole is my name, r a f e G o, squire and dwarf, search in this dreadful And by my birth I am a Londoner, cave, Free by my copy; but my ancestors 410 And free the wretched prisoners from their bonds. W ere Frenchmen all; and riding hard this way Exeunt t im as s q u i r e and g e o r g e as d w a r f Upon a trotting horse, my bones did ache; barber I crave for mercy, as thou art a knight, And I, faint knight, to ease my weary limbs, And scorn’st to spill the blood of those that beg. r a f e Thou show’d’st no mercy, nor shalt thou have any; Prepare thyself, for thou shalt surely die. 380 sd winking: with his eyes shut 386 condign: suitable 387 post: in haste 347 aby: pay for 389 trained: lured 349 string thy teeth shall hang: barbers hung strings of 390 itch: a symptom of venereal disease extracted teeth outside their premises 393 ribbons: fashionable adornment for foppish knights 352 Gargantua: folktale hero (rather than the giant from sd patch o’er his nose: sign of suffering from an advanced case Rabelais whose work had not been translated at this o f syphilis time) 405 scorched: slashed (with a knife) 355 falsify: feign scored: cut 369 paid thee home: fully punished 406 eke: also (archaic) 372 Avernus: a deep lake near Naples believed to be an 410 copy: certificate of admission to the freedom of the City

entrance to the underworld 411 Frenchman: therefore associated with syphilis, ‘the Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 373 sable: black French disease’ 374 day: victory 412 my bones did ache: symptom of advanced syphilis

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Light at this cave, when straight this furious fiend, c i t i z e n Peace, Nell, here comes the prisoners. W ith sharpest instrument o f purest steel g e o r g e Here be these pined wretches, manful knight, D id cut the gristle of my nose away, That for these six weeks have not seen a wight. A nd in the place this velvet plaster stands. r a f e Deliver what you are, and how you came 450 Relieve me, gentle knight, out of his hands. To this sad cave, and what your usage was. w i f e Good Rafe, relieve Sir Pockhole and send him 3 k n i g h t I am an errant knight that followed arms away, for, in truth, his breath stinks. 420 W ith spear and shield, and in my tender years r a f e Convey him straight after the other knight.— I stricken was with Cupid’s fiery shaft, Sir Pockhole fare you well. And fell in love with this m y lady dear, 2 k n i g h t Kind sir, goodnight. And stole her from her friends in Turnbull Street, Exeunt k n i g h t with g e o r g e , who then re-enters. And bore her up and down from town to town Cries within W here we did eat and drink and music hear, 3 k n i g h t (within) Deliver us. Till at the length, at this unhappy town w o m a n (within) Deliver us. We did arrive, and coming to this cave, 460 w i f e Hark, George, what a woeful cry there is. I think This beast us caught and put us in a tub some woman lies in there. W here we this two months sweat, and should have 3 k n i g h t (within) Deliver us. d o n e w o m a n (within) Deliver us. Another month if you had not relieved us. r a f e W hat ghastly noise is this? Speak, Barbaroso, w o m a n This bread and water hath our diet been, Or by this blazing steel thy head goes off. 430 Together with a rib cut from a neck b a r b e r Prisoners of mine, whom I in diet keep. O f burned mutton; hard hath been our fare. Send lower down into the cave, Release us from this ugly giant’s snare. And in a tub that’s heated smoking hot, 3 k n i g h t This hath been all the food we have received There may they find them and deliver them. But only twice a day, for novelty, r a f e Run, squire and dwarf, deliver them with speed. He gave a spoonful of this hearty broth 470 Exeunt t i m as s q u i r e and g e o r g e as d w a r f Pulls out a syringe w ife But will not Rafe kill this giant? Surely I am To each of us, through this same slender quill. afeared if he let him go he will do as much hurt as ra fe From this infernal monster you shall go, ever he did. That useth knights and gentle ladies so.— c i t i z e n Not so, mouse, neither, if he could convert Convey them hence. h im . 4 4 0 Exeunt 3 k n i g h t and w o m a n with t i m and g e o r g e w i f e Ay, George, if he could convert him; but a giant who presently re-enter is not so soon converted as one of us ordinary people. citizen Cony, I can tell thee the gentlemen like Rafe. There’s a pretty tale of a witch that had the devil’s w ife Ay, George, I see it well enough.— Gentlemen, I mark about her, God bless us, that had a giant to her thank you all heartily for gracing my man Rafe, and I son, that was called Lob-lie-by-the-fire; didst never promise you you shall see him oft’ner. hear it, George? barber M ercy, great knight, I do recant my ill, And henceforth never gentle blood will spill. 480 Enter TIM as s q u i r e leading a man with a glass o f lotion ra fe I give thee mercy; but yet shalt thou swear in his hand, and g e o r g e as the d w a r f leading a woman Upon my burning pestle to perform with diet-bread and drink Thy promise uttered. barber I swear and kiss. Kisses pestle r a f e Depart then, and amend.— 4i7 velvet plaster: covering for both the scars of war and E x it BARBER those produced by the incisions made as a treatment for Com e, squire and dwarf, the sun grows towards his syphilis set, 420 breath stinks: as a result of taking mercury, used in the treatment of syphilis And we have many more adventures yet. Exeunt 423 Deliver us: parody of the Litany for General Supplication in The Book of Common Prayer (i549, revised i552 and i559) 448 pined: wasted, starved 433 tub: sweating tubs were believed to cure venereal disease 450 Deliver: state 439 convert: converting ‘heathens’ was a common element in 456 Turnbull Street: originally Turnmill Street, running chivalric romance south from Clerkenwell Green and known for its 443-4 devil’s mark: the marks (spots or tooth marks) believed prostitutes

to identify w itches 465 rib cut from a neck: extremely poor quality meat Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright sd diet-bread: special bread used in the treatment of 466 mutton: prostitute (slang) syphilis 470 hearty: nourishing

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c i t i z e n Now Rafe is in this humour, I know he would Go from my window, my dear; ha’ beaten all the boys in the house if they had been The w in d and the rain set on him. 489 W ill drive you back again; w i f e Ay, George, but it is well as it is; I warrant you You cannot be lodged here. 526 the gentlemen do consider what it is to overthrow a H ark you, M istress Merrythought, you that walk giant. But look, George, here comes Mistress upon adventures and forsake your husband because Merrythought and her son M ichael.— Now you are he sings with never a penny in his purse; what, shall I welcome, Mistress Merrythought, now Rafe has think m yself the worse? Faith, no, I’ll be merry. You done, you may go on. come out here— here’s none but lads of mettle, lives o f a hundred years and upwards; care never drunk Enter m istress m errythought and m i c h a e l their bloods, nor want made ’em warble, (Sings) m i s t r e s s merrythought M ick, my boy. Heigh-ho, my heart is heavy. 534 m i c h a e l Ay, forsooth, mother. 497 m i s t r e s s merrythought W hy, Master m istress m errythought Be merry, Mick; we are at M errythought, what am I that you should laugh me home now, where, I warrant you, you shall find the to scorn thus abruptly? A m I not your fellow-feeler, house flung out at the windows. (Music within) H a r k , as we may say, in all our miseries, your comforter in hey dogs, hey; this is the old world, i’faith, with my health and sickness? Have I not brought you husband. If I get in among ’em, I’ll play ’em such a children? Are they not like you, Charles? Look upon lesson that they shall have little list to come scraping thine own image, hard-hearted man. And yet for all hither again.— W hy, M aster Merrythought, th is— 542 husband, Charles M errythought. OLD MERRYTHOUGHT (within) OLD MERRYTHOUGHT (within) (Sings) Begone, begone, my Juggy, mypuggy, (Sings) I f you will sing and dance and laugh, Begone, my love, my dear. A n d hollo and laugh again, The weather is warm A n d then cry, There, boys, there’, why then ’T w ill do thee no harm One, two, three, and four, Thou canst not be lodged here. We shall be merry within this hour. 5 10 — Be merry, boys; some light music, and more wine. m istress m errythought W hy, Charles, do you not w i f e H e’s not in earnest, I hope, George, is he? know your own natural wife? I say, open the door, c i t i z e n What if he be, sweetheart? 550 and turn me out those mangy companions; ’tis more w i f e M arry, if he be, George, I’ll make bold to tell than time that they were fellow and fellow-like with him he’s an ingrant old man to use his bed-fellow so you. You are a gentleman, Charles, and an old man, scu rvily. and father of two children; and I m yself (though I say c i t i z e n W hat, how does he use her, honey? it) by m y mother’s side niece to a worshipful w i f e M arry come up, Sir Saucebox, I think you’ll take gentleman, and a conductor; he has been three times his part, will you not? Lord, how hot you are grown. in his majesty’s service at Chester, and is now the You are a fine man, an’ you had a fine dog; it fourth time, God bless him and his charge, upon his becomes you sweetly. journey. 521 c i t i z e n Nay, prithee, Nell, chide not. For as I am an OLD MERRYTHOUGHT (within) honest man and a true Christian grocer, I do not like (Sings) Go from my window, love, go; his doings. 561 w i f e I cry you mercy then, George. You know we are all frail and full o f infirmities.— D ’ee hear, M aster 487 humour: mood Merrythought, may I crave a word with you? 500 house flung . . . the windows: signs of riotous living OLD MERRYTHOUGHT (within) (proverbial) Strike up lively, lads. 501 world: behaviour, habit w i f e I had not thought, in truth, M aster 503 list: desire scraping: playing (the fiddle) 507 hollo: shout 53i mettle: courage 517 worshipful: honourable 531-2 lives of . . . and upwards: their merry lives have kept 518 conductor: captain them young 519 Chester: Cheshire port of embarkation for Ireland with a 543 Juggy: diminutive ofjoan reputation for military corruption puggy: term of endearment 522-6 and 543-7: Go from .. . lodged here: popular song that 551 Marry: indeed

appears in a number o f contemporary plays, including 552 ingrant: ignorant Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright Jo h n Fletcher’s Monsieur Thomas (1610-16), III.iii and 555 Marry come up: ‘now, now’ (a taunt) The Woman’s Prize (c. 1604), I.iii 562 cry you mercy: beg your pardon

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M errythought, that a man of your age and discretion, father; I’ll use him in his kind, I warrant ye. as I may say, being a gentleman, and therefore known Exeunt by your gentle conditions, could have used so little FINIS ACTUS TERTII respect to the weakness of his wife. For your wife is your own flesh, the staff of your age, your yoke Interlude III fellow, with whose help you draw through the mire of this transitory world. Nay, she’s your own rib. And Music. Enter b o y and c i t i z e n ag a in — 574 w i f e Come, George, where’s the beer? old m errythought (within) c i t i z e n Here, love. (Sings) I come not hither fo r thee to teach, w ife This old fornicating fellow will not out of my I haze no pu lpit fo r thee to preach, mind yet.— Gentlemen, I’ll begin to you all, and I I would thou hadst kissed me under the breech, desire more of your acquaintance, with all m y heart. As thou art a lady gay. (Drinks) Fill the gentlemen some beer, George. (boy w ife M arry, with a vengeance! I am heartily sorry for danceth) Look, George, the little boy’s come again; the poor gentlewoman.— But if I were thy wife, methinks he looks something like the Prince of i’faith, grey-beard, i’faith— 581 Orange in his long stocking, if he had a little harness citizen I prithee, sweet honeysuckle, be content. about his neck. George, I will have him dance w ife Give me such words that am a gentlewoman ‘Fading’.— ‘Fading’ is a fine jig, I’ll assure you, born! H ang him, hoary rascal! Get me some drink, gentlemen.— Begin, brother.— Now ’a capers, George, I am almost molten with fretting: now sweetheart.— N ow a turn o’th’toe, and then tumble. beshrew his knave’s heart for it. Exit Citizen Cannot you tumble, youth? 14 old m errythought (within) Play me a light lavolta. b o y No, indeed, forsooth. Com e, be frolic. Fill the good fellows’ wine. w i f e Nor eat fire? m i s t r e s s merrythought W hy, Master b o y N e ith e r. Merrythought, are you disposed to make me wait w i f e W hy then, I thank you heartily. There’s here? You’ll open, I hope; I’ll fetch them that shall twopence to buy you points withal. open else. 592 E x it BOY old m errythought (at window) Good woman, if you will sing I’ll give you something; if not— SONG Act IV You are no loze fo r me, M arg’ret, E nter ja s p e r and b o y I am no loze for you. Leazes window (within) Come aloft, boys, aloft. 597 ja s p e r (gizes a letter) There, boy, deliver this, but do it m i s t r e s s merrythought Now a churl’s fart in your w ell. teeth, sir.— Com e, M ick, we’ll not trouble him; ’a H ast thou provided me four lusty fellows shall not ding us i’th’teeth with his bread and his Able to carry me? And art thou perfect broth, that he shall not. Com e, boy; I’ll provide for In all thy business? thee, I warrant thee. W e’ll go to M aster b o y Sir, you need not fear: Venturewell’s, the merchant; I’ll get his letter to mine I have m y lesson here and cannot miss it. host of the Bell in W altham ; there I’ll place thee with The men are ready for you, and what else the tapster. W ill not that do well for thee, M ick? Pertains to this employment. And let me alone for that old cuckoldly knave your ja s p e r (gizes him money) There, my boy;

569 conditions: qualities 57i-2 yoke-fellow: companion (from ploughing) 607 in his kind: according to his nature 587 lavolta: lively dance for couples 4 begin to: toast 588 frolic: m erry 8-9 Prince of Orange: Prince Maurice of Nassau, whose 595-6 You are . . . for you possibly from a ballad about Fair picture (in his ‘long stocking’) was widely known Margaret and Sweet W illiam (see II.427-30). Printed as 9 harness: armour part of the song in Qi-3 11 Fading: a) an Irish dance; b) sexual orgasm 597 Come aloft: ‘the expression is generally found applied to 12 capers: lively dancing apes that were taught to vault: here it is used merely as an 13 tumble: somersault (with sexual connotation)

incitement to mirth’ (Dyce) i9 points: laces for tying hose to doublet Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 600 ding: strike, i.e. taunt 2 lusty: vigorous 606 cuckoldly: adulterous 3 perfect: instructed (as in ‘perfected’)

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Take it, but buy no land. Cracovia’s house, covered with black velvet, and there b o y Faith, sir, ’twere rare let the king’s daughter stand in her window all in To see so young a purchaser. I fly, beaten gold, combing her golden locks with a comb And on my wings carry your destiny. E x it o f ivory, and let her spy Rafe, and fall in love with j a s p e r Go, and be happy.— Now, my latest hope, n him, and come down to him, and carry him into her Forsake me not, but fling thy anchor out father’s house, and then let Rafe talk with her. 42 And let it hold. Stand fixed, thou rolling stone, c i t i z e n W ell said, Nell, it shall be so.— Boy, let’s ha’t Till I enjoy my dearest. Hear me, all done quickly. You powers that rule in men celestial. E x it b o y Sir, if you will imagine all this to be done already, w i f e G o thy ways; thou art as crooked a sprig as ever you shall hear them talk together. But we cannot grew in London. I warrant him, he’ll come to some present a house covered with black velvet, and a lady naughty end or other, for his looks say no less. in beaten gold. Besides, his father (you know, George) is none o f the c i t i z e n Sir boy, let’s ha’t as you can, then. best; you heard him take me up like a flirt-gill, and b o y Besides, it will show ill-favouredly to have a sing bawdy songs upon me; but, i’faith, if I live, grocer’s prentice to court a king’s daughter. 51 G e o r g e — 22 citizen W ill it so, sir? You are well read in histories! I citizen Let me alone, sweetheart— I have a trick in pray you, what was Sir Dagonet? W as not he prentice my head shall lodge him in the Arches for one year, to a grocer in London? Read the play of The Four and make him sing peccavi ere I leave him, and yet he Prentices of London, where they toss their pikes so. I shall never know who hurt him neither. pray you, fetch him in, sir, fetch him in. w ife Do, my good George, do. boy It shall be done.— It is not our fault, gentlemen. E x it Enter b o y w i f e Now we shall see fine doings, I warrant’ee, c i t i z e n W hat shall we have Rafe do now, boy? George. Oh, here they come; how prettily the King b o y You shall have what you will, sir. of Cracovia’s daughter is dressed. 60 c i t i z e n W hy, so, sir; go and fetch me him then, and E nter r a f e and the lady pompiona, tim as s q u i r e and let the Sophy of Persia come and christen him a GEORGE as DWARF ch ild . 3 2 b o y Believe me, sir, that will not do so well. ’Tis stale; c i t i z e n Ay, Nell, it is the fashion of that country, I it has been had before at the Red Bull. warrant’ee. w i f e George, let Rafe travel over great hills, and let LADY W elcome, sir knight, unto my father’s court, him be very weary, and come to the King of King of M oldavia; unto me, Pompiona, H is daughter dear. But sure you do not like Your entertainment, that will stay with us 8 buy no land: from ‘he that buys land buys many stones’ No longer but a night. (proverbial) r a f e Damsel right fair, ii-i2 my latest . . . anchor out: anchors often appeared in I am on many sad adventures bound, emblems associated with hope i3 rolling stone: a) the earth; b) metaphor for uncertain That call me forth into the wilderness; fortune Besides, my horse’s back is something galled, 70 15 powers that . . . men celestial: reference to the Neo- Platonic figure Venus Coelestis (Heavenly Love) who possesses the minds of those whose intellects pass beyond 37 Cracovia: Cracow, capital of Poland (until 1609) the sensible to the heavenly black: eds (omitted from Qi) 16 sprig: youth 39 beaten gold: an example o f the elaborate costumes used i8 naughty: mischievous for entertainments presented at court, such as Ben 20 flirt-gill: promiscuous woman (slang) Jon son ’s The Masque of Blackness (1605) 24 Arches: St M ary de Arcubus, a church in Cheapside 53 Sir Dagonet: King Arthur’s fool but possibly known to where the Ecclesiastical Court of Appeal for the Province early seventeenth-century audiences from ‘Arthur’s of Canterbury sat to hear cases o f abuse of church law Show’, an exhibition o f archery held at M ile End; see 25 peccavi: ‘I have sinned’ 2 Henry IV, III.ii.257 31-2 Sophy of . . . a child: reference to the Sophy of Persia, 54-5 The Four Prentices of London: in Heywood’s play Eustace godfather to Robert Sherley’s child in The Travels of the and Guy toss and catch their pikes to show their Three English Brothers (c. 1607) by John Day, William readiness for war Rowley and George Wilkins 64 Moldavia: a Danubian province (now in Romania); the

34 the Red Bull: a popular theatre in Clerkenwell, but also Prince of Moldavia was with a Turkish delegation to the Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright known for presenting bombastic (‘stale’) plays of little English court in November 1607 consequence 70 galled: sore

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W hich will enforce me ride a sober pace. Your father’s officers, who, truth to tell, But many thanks, fair lady, be to you, Have been about me very diligent. For using errant knight with courtesy. Hold up thy snowy hand, thou princely maid: l a d y But say, brave knight, what is your name and There’s twelve pence for your father’s chamberlain; b irth ? And another shilling for his cook, r a f e M y name is Rafe; I am an Englishman, For, by my troth, the goose was roasted well; 120 As true as steel, a hearty Englishm an, And twelve pence for your father’s horse-keeper, And prentice to a grocer in the Strand For ’nointing my horse back— and for his butter, By deed indent, o f which I have one part. There is another shilling— to the maid But Fortune calling me to follow arms, That washed my boot-hose, there’s an English groat: On me this holy order I did take 80 And twopence to the boy that wiped my boots; O f Burning Pestle, which in all men’s eyes And last, fair lady, there is for yourself I bear, confounding ladies’ enemies. Threepence, to buy you pins at Bumbo Fair. l a d y Oft have I heard of your brave countrymen, l a d y Full many thanks; and I will keep them safe And fertile soil and store o f wholesome food; Till all the heads be off, for thy sake, Rafe. M y father oft will tell me o f a drink r a f e Advance, my squire and dwarf; I cannot stay. 130 In England found, and ‘nipitato’ called, l a d y Thou kill’st my heart in parting thus away. W hich driveth all the sorrow from your hearts. Exeunt r a f e Lady, ’tis true, you need not lay your lips w i f e I commend Rafe yet that he will not stoop to a T o better nipitato than there is. Cracovian. There’s properer women in London than l a d y And of a wild fowl he will often speak 90 any are there, iwis. But here comes M aster W hich ‘powdered beef and mustard’ called is. Humphrey and his love again now, George. For there have been great wars ’twixt us and you; c i t i z e n Ay, cony, peace. But truly, Rafe, it was not long of me. E nter m erchant, humphrey, luce, and b o y . l u c e Tell me then, Rafe, could you contented be kneels T o wear a lady’s favour in your shield? r a f e I am a knight of religious order, m e r c h a n t Go, get you up; I will not be entreated. And will not wear a favour o f a lady’s And, gossip mine, I’ll keep you sure hereafter That trusts in Antichrist and false traditions. From gadding out again with boys and unthrifts. c i t i z e n W ell said, Rafe, convert her if thou canst. Com e, they are women’s tears; I know your r a f e Besides, I have a lady of my own 100 fashion.— 140 In merry England, for whose virtuous sake G o, sirrah, lock her in, and keep the key I took these arms, and Susan is her name, Safe as you love your life. Exeunt l u c e and b o y A cobbler’s maid in M ilk Street, whom I vow Now, my son Humphrey, N e’er to forsake whilst life and pestle last. You may both rest assured of my love l a d y Happy that cobbling dame, whoe’er she be, In this, and reap your own desire. That for her own, dear Rafe, hath gotten thee; h u m p h r e y I see this love you speak of, through your Unhappy I, that ne’er shall see the day d a u g h te r, T o see thee more, that bear’st m y heart away. Although the hole be little; and hereafter r a f e Lady, farewell; I needs must take my leave. W ill yield the like in all I may, or can, l a d y Hard-hearted Rafe, that ladies dost deceive. 110 Fitting a Christian, and a gentleman. c i t i z e n H ark thee, Rafe, there’s money for thee; give m e r c h a n t I do believe you, my good son, and thank something in the King of Cracovia’s house; be not y o u : beholding to him. r a f e Lady, before I go, I must remember 124 boot-hose: elaborately embroidered footless stockings which covered the calf 77 Strand Q2 (strond Qi) 125 boots: the footwear of gallants and would-be gentlemen 78 deed indent: duplicate agreement of indenture between i27 pins: elaborate pins were a fashionable gift apprentice and master; the deed was torn irregularly Bumbo Fair: probably from a drink sold at fairs (made (‘indented’) so that it could be proved genuine if the two from rum, water, sugar and nutmeg) parts matched 132 stoop: submit 82 confounding: a) confusing, bewildering; b) defeating 133 properer: handsomer 86 ‘nipitato’: prim e ale 137 up: either from kneeling or to her chamber

9i powdered: salted 138 gossip: female friend Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 93 long: on account 139 unthrifts: prodigals i05 cobbling: could also mean ‘bungling’ 140 women’s tears: i.e. not to be taken seriously

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For ’twere an impudence to think you flattered. 150 An everlasting hate to all thy name. h u m p h r e y It were indeed; but shall I tell you why? m i s t e s s merrythought W ill you so, sir? H ow say I have been beaten twice about the lie. you by that?— Come, M ick, let him keep his wind to m e r c h a n t W ell, son, no more of compliment. M y cool his porridge. W e’ll go to thy nurse’s, M ick; she d a u g h te r knits silk stockings, boy, and w e’ll knit too, boy, and Is yours again; appoint the time, and take her; be beholding to none of them all. W e’ll have no stealing for it. I m yself Exeunt m i c h a e l and his m o t h e r And some few of our friends will see you married. E nter a b o y with a letter h u m p h r e y I would you would, i’faith, for, be it k n o w n , b o y Sir, I take it you are the master of this house. I ever was afraid to lie alone. m e r c h a n t How then, boy? m e r c h a n t Some three days hence, then. b o y Then to yourself, sir, comes this letter. 200 h u m p h r e y Three days? Let me see: m e r c h a n t From whom, my pretty boy? ’Tis somewhat of the most; yet I agree 160 b o y From him that was your servant; but no more Because I mean against the appointed day Shall that name ever be, for he is dead: T o visit all m y friends in new array. G rief of your purchased anger broke his heart. I saw him die, and from his hand received Enter s e r v a n t This paper, with a charge to bring it hither; s e r v a n t Sir, there’s a gentlewoman without would Read it, and satisfy yourself in all. 207 speak with your worship. m e r c h a n t (reads letter) ‘Sir, that I have wronged your m e r c h a n t W hat is she? love, I must confess; in which I have purchased to s e r v a n t Sir, I asked her not. myself, besides mine own undoing, the ill opinion of m erchant Bid her come in. E x it s e r v a n t my friends. Let not your anger, good sir, outlive me, but suffer me to rest in peace with your forgiveness; Enter m istress m errythought and m i c h a e l let my body (if a dying man may so much prevail m i s t r e s s merrythought Peace be to your worship. I with you) be brought to your daughter, that she may come as a poor suitor to you, sir, in the behalf o f this truly know my hot flames are now buried, and, ch ild . 17 0 withal, receive a testimony of the zeal I bore her m e r c h a n t Are you not wife to Merrythought? virtue. Farewell for ever, and be ever happy. Jasper.’ m i s t r e s s merrythought Yes, truly; would I had G od’s hand is great in this. I do forgive him; ne’er seen his eyes! H e has undone me and him self Yet I am glad he’s quiet, where I hope and his children, and there he lives at home, and He will not bite again.— Boy, bring the body, 220 sings and hoits and revels among his drunken A nd let him have his will, if that be all. companions; but, I warrant you, where to get a penny b o y ’Tis here without, sir. to put bread in his mouth he knows not; and m e r c h a n t So, sir, if you please, therefore, if it like your worship, I would entreat your You may conduct it in; I do not fear it. letter to the honest host of the Bell in W altham , that h u m p h r e y I’ll be your usher, boy, for though I say it, I may place my child under the protection of his H e owed me something once, and well did pay it. tapster, in some settled course of life. 181 Exeunt m e r c h a n t I’m glad the heavens have heard my E nter l u c e alone prayers. Thy husband, W hen I was ripe in sorrows, laughed at me; l u c e If there be any punishment inflicted Thy son, like an unthankful wretch, I having Upon the miserable, more than yet I feel, Redeemed him from his fall and made him mine, Let it together seize me, and at once To show his love again, first stole my daughter, Press down my soul. I cannot bear the pain Then wronged this gentleman, and, last of all, O f these delaying tortures. Thou that art 230 Gave me that grief had almost brought me down The end o f all, and the sweet rest of all, Unto my grave, had not a strongcr hand Com e, come, oh Death, bring me to thy peace, Relieved my sorrows. Go, and weep as I did, 190 And blot out all the memory I nourish And be unpitied; for I here profess Both o f my father and my cruel friend. Oh wretched maid, still living to be wretched,

i55 W e’ll have . . . for it: ‘we’ll not have another elopement’

160 of the most: overlong 204 purchased: incurred by his conduct Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 161 against: in expectation of 2i8 great: evident i75 hoits: laughs 224 usher: either a doorkeeper or an assistant

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To be a say to Fortune in her changes, B in d with cypress and sad yew ; And grow to number times and woes together! Ribands black and candles blue How happy had I been, if, being born, For him that was o f men most true. M y grave had been my cradle. Come with heavy moaning, 2 8 0 E nter s e r v a n t And on his grave s e r v a n t By your leave, L et him have Young mistress, here’s a boy hath brought a coffin. 240 Sacrifice o f sighs and groaning; W hat ’a would say, I know not, but your father Let him have fair flowers enow, Charged me to give you notice. Here they come. White and purple, green and yellow, E x it For him that was o f men most true. Thou sable cloth, sad cover of my joys, E nter two ( c a r r i e r and b o y ) bearing a coffin, I lift thee up, and thus I meet with death. ja s p e r in it ja s p e r (rising out o f the coffin) And thus you meet the LucE For me I hope ’tis come, and ’tis most welcome. liv in g . b o y Fair mistress, let me not add greater grief l u c e Save me, heaven! T o that great store you have already. Jasper, j a s p e r Nay, do not fly me, fair; I am no spirit; 290 That whilst he lived was yours, now dead Look better on me; do you know me yet? And here enclosed, commanded me to bring l u c e Oh, thou dear shadow of my friend. H is body hither, and to crave a tear j a s p e r Dear substance; From those fair eyes, though he deserved not pity I swear I am no shadow; feel my hand, T o deck his funeral; for so he bid me 250 It is the same it was. I am your Jasper. Tell her for whom he died. Your Jasper that’s yet living, and yet loving. l u c e He shall have many.— Pardon my rash attempt, my foolish proof Good friends, depart a little, whilst I take I put in practice o f your constancy; M y leave o f this dead man that once I lov’d: For sooner should my sword have drunk my blood Exeunt coffin carrier and b o y And set my soul at liberty, than drawn H old yet a little, life, and then I give thee The least drop from that body; for which boldness To thy first heavenly being. Oh, my friend! Doom me to anything: if death, I take it, 301 H ast thou deceived me thus, and got before me? And willingly. I shall not long be after. But, believe me, luce This death I’ll give you for it. Kisses him Thou wert too cruel, Jasper, ’gainst thyself So, now I am satisfied; you are no spirit, In punishing the fault I could have pardoned, But my own truest, truest, truest friend. W ith so untimely death. Thou didst not wrong me, W hy do you come thus to me? But ever wert most kind, most true, most loving; 261 j a s p e r First to see you, And I the most unkind, most false, most cruel. Then to convey you hence. D idst thou but ask a tear? I’ll give thee all, LucE It cannot be, Even all my eyes can pour down, all my sighs, For I am locked up here and watched at all hours, And all myself, before thou goest from me. That ’tis impossible for me to ’scape. These are but sparing rites; but if thy soul j a s p e r Nothing more possible. W ithin this coffin Be yet about this place, and can behold Do you convey yourself; let me alone, 310 And see what I prepare to deck thee with, I have the wits of twenty men about me. It shall go up, borne on the wings of peace, Only I crave the shelter of your closet A nd satisfied. First will I sing thy dirge, 270 A little, and then fear me not. Creep in, Then kiss thy pale lips, and then die myself, That they may presently convey you hence. And fill one coffin and one grave together. Fear nothing, dearest love, I’ll be your second. SONG Come you whose loves are dead, 277 cypress and sad yew: traditional emblems o f mourning; see A n d whiles I sing Twelfth Night, II.iv.50-65 Weep and wring 278 blue: the colour of constancy Every hand, and every head 285 White and. . . and yellow: symbols o f purity, sorrow, the soul, and divinity respectively 292 shadow: shade, departed spirit

236 say: test, touchstone (from ‘assay’) 312 closet: private room Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 266 sparing: meagre 313 fear me not: ‘do not have fear for me’ 270 dirge: hymn for a funeral 3i5 second: support

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l u c e lies down in the coffin, and ja s p e r cozers her This is it that keeps life and soul together: mirth. with the cloth This is the philosopher’s stone that they write so Lie close, so; all goes well yet.— Boy. much on, that keeps a man ever young.

Enter b o y and c o f f i n c a r r i e r Enter a b o y

b o y At hand, sir. b o y Sir, they say they know all your money is gone, j a s p e r Convey away the coffin, and be wary. and they will trust you for no more drink. b o y ’Tis done already. o l d merrythought W ill they not? Let ’em choose. jasper Now must I go conjure. E x it The best is, I have mirth at home, and need not send abroad for that; let them keep their drink to Enter m e r c h a n t themselves. m erchant Boy, boy! (Sings) F o r Jillia n o f Bury she dwells on a hill, 3 6 0 b o y Your servant, sir. 320 A n d she hath good beer and ale to sell, m e r c h a n t D o me this kindness, boy (hold, here’s a A n d o f good fellow s she thinks no ill; crown): before thou bury the body o f this fellow, And thither will we go now, now, now, now, carry it to his old merry father, and salute him from And thither w ill we go now. me, and bid him sing; he hath cause. A n d when you haze made a little stay, b o y I will, sir. You need not ask what is to pay, m e r c h a n t And then bring me word what tune he is B u t kiss your hostess and go your way; in, and have another crown; but do it truly. I have A n d thither, etc. fitted him a bargain now will vex him. Enter another b o y b o y God bless your worship’s health, sir. 329 m erchant Farewell, boy. Exeunt 2 b o y Sir, I can get no bread for supper. 369 o l d merrythought H ang bread and supper! Let’s Enter m aster m errythought preserve our mirth, and we shall never feel hunger, w i f e Ah, old M errythought, art thou there again? I’ll warrant you. Let’s have a catch; boy, follow me; Let’s hear some o f thy songs. come, sing this catch: o l d merrythought (They sing) Ho, ho, nobody at home! (Sings) Who can sing a merrier note Meat, nor drink, nor money ha’ we none. Than he that cannot change a groat# F ill the pot, Eedy, Not a denier left, and yet my heart leaps. I do wonder Nezer more need I. yet, as old as I am, that any man will follow a trade, So, boys, enough; follow me; let’s change our place or serve, that may sing and laugh, and walk the and we shall laugh afresh. streets. M y wife and both my sons are I know not Exeunt where; I have nothing left, nor know I how to come by meat to supper, yet am I merry still, for I know I FINIS ACT IV shall find it upon the table at six o’clock. Therefore, hang thought. 342 Interlude IV (Sings) I would not be a serzing man To carry the cloak-bag still, w i f e Let him go, George; ’a shall not have any Nor would I be a falconer countenance from us, nor a good word from any i’th’ The greedy hawks to fill; company, if I may strike stroke in’t. But I would be in a good house, c i t i z e n No more ’a sha’not, love; but, Nell, I will have A n d haze a good master too, Rafe do a very notable matter now, to the eternal But I would eat and drink of the best, honour and glory of all grocers.— Sirrah, you there, A n d no work would I do. 35 0 boy! Can none of you hear?

3i6 close: hidden 352 philosopher’s stone: the stone which, in alchemy, heals 3i8 conjure: perform the trick wounds, turns base metals into gold, and prolongs life 326 tune: mood 372 catch: song sung as a round 328 fitted: furnished 373 sing this catch: these words are slightly separated from 333-4 Who can . . . a groat# a catch from Ravenscroft’s the preceding ‘come’ in Q i-2 and some eds present them Pammelia (i606) as a stage direction

335 denier: French coin of very small value 374-7 Ho, ho . . . need I: a catch from Pammelia Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 342 hang: dismiss all 2 countenance: favour 344 cloak-bag\ portmanteau 3 strike stroke: have my say

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E nter b o y For now the fragrant flowers do spring and sprout in seemly sort, b o y Sir, your pleasure? The little birds do sit and sing, the lambs do make c i t i z e n Let Rafe come out on M ay Day in the fine sport. morning, and speak upon a conduit with all his scarfs And now the birchen tree doth bud, that makes the about him, and his feathers and his rings and his schoolboy cry; 40 k n a c k s. 12 The morris rings while hobby-horse doth foot it boy W hy, sir, you do not think of our plot. W hat will feateously. become of that, then? The lords and ladies now abroad for their disport and citizen W hy sir, I care not what become on’t. I’ll have p lay, him come out, or I’ll fetch him out myself. I’ll have Do kiss sometimes upon the grass, and sometimes in something done in honour of the city. Besides, he th e hay. hath been long enough upon adventures. Bring him Now butter with a leaf o f sage is good to purge the out quickly, or, if I come in amongst you— b lo o d ; boy W ell, sir, he shall come out. But if our play Fly Venus and phlebotomy, for they are neither good. miscarry, sir, you are like to pay for’t. E x it b o y N ow little fish on tender stone begin to cast their c i t i z e n Bring him away, then. 22 b e llie s, w i f e This will be brave, i’faith; George, shall not he And sluggish snails, that erst were mute, do creep out dance the morris too for the credit o f the Strand? o f their shellies. c i t i z e n No, sweetheart, it will be too much for the boy. The rumbling rivers now do warm for little boys to E nter r a f e p a d d le , The sturdy steed now goes to grass, and up they hang Oh, there he is, Nell; he’s reasonable well in reparel, his saddle. but he has not rings enough. The heavy hart, the bellowing buck, the rascal, and r a f e London, to thee I do present the merry month of the pricket, 50 M a y ; Are now among the yeoman’s peas, and leave the Let each true subject be content to hear me what I say: fearful thicket. For from the top of conduit head, as plainly may And be like them, oh you, I say, of this same noble ap p e a r, 3 0 to w n , I will both tell my name to you and wherefore I came And lift aloft your velvet heads, and, slipping off your h ere. g o w n , M y name is Rafe, by due descent though not ignoble W ith bells on legs and napkins clean unto your I, shoulders tied, Yet far inferior to the flock of gracious grocery; And by the common counsel of my fellows in the S tra n d , 40 birchen tree: the branches o f the birch were used for W ith gilded staff and crossed scarf, the M ay Lord corporal punishment here I stand. 41 hobby-horse: a wooden frame that allowed dancers to Rejoice, oh English hearts, rejoice; rejoice, oh lovers pretend to be horses. It became a principal focus of Puritan attacks on M ay Day celebrations because of the d ear; sexual symbolism of its rocking motion Rejoice, oh city, town, and country; rejoice eke every feateously: nimbly sh ire. 44 butter: thought to take on medicinal properties during the spring 9 M ay Day: the festival o f spring with festivities, speeches, 45 Venus and phlebotomy: sexual intercourse (here dancing and song. A good account can be found in Philip represented by the classical goddess of love) and blood Stubbes’s The Anatomy of Abuses (1583), Ch. xiii letting (phlebotomy) were both believed to weaken the 10 conduit: fountain, cistern body 10-12 scarfs about . . . his knacks: the accoutrements of 46 cast their bellies: spawn Morris dancing 47 snails: believed to trace the lover’s name in the ashes o f a 28-63 London, to . . . I cease: written in lines of fourteen hearth syllables as a parody o f M ay Day speeches and, possibly, erst: formerly hym n books 50 rascal: young or inferior deer in a herd 32 M y name . . . ignoble I: parodies the speech by the Ghost pricket: two-year-old buck of Don Andrea in The Spanish Tragedy, I.i.5-7, by 53 velvet heads: a) the new antlers o f deer; b) the antlers of a

T hom as K yd new cuckold Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 35 gilded staff and crossed scarf: symbols of the M ay Lord’s 54-5 bells on . . . and garters: more Morris dancer’s authority accoutrements

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W ith scarfs and garters as you please, and ‘H ey for And never shalt thou sit, or be alone our town’ cried, In any place, but I will visit thee M arch out, and show your willing minds, by twenty With ghastly looks, and put into thy mind 20 and by twenty, The great offences which thou didst to me. To Hogsdon or to Newington, where ale and cakes W hen thou art at thy table with thy friends, are plenty. M erry in heart, and filled with swelling wine, And let it ne’er be said for shame, that we the youths I’ll come in midst of all thy pride and mirth, o f L o n d o n Invisible to all men but thyself, Lay thrumming of our caps at home, and left our And whisper such a sad tale in thine ear custom undone. Shall make thee let the cup fall from thy hand, Up then, I say, both young and old, both man and And stand as mute and pale as Death itself. maid a-maying, 60 m e r c h a n t Forgive me, Jasper. Oh, what might I do, W ith drums and guns that bounce aloud, and merry Tell me, to satisfy thy troubled ghost? 30 tabor playing! j a s p e r There is no means; too late thou think’st of W hich to prolong, God save our king, and send his th is. country peace, m e r c h a n t But tell me what were best for me to do? And root out treason from the Land! And so, my j a s p e r Repent thy deed, and satisfy my father, friends, I cease. And beat fond Humphrey out of thy doors. E x it E x it ja s p e r

E nter HUM PHREY Act V w i f e Look, George, his very ghost would have folks Enter m erchant, solus b e aten . h u m p h r e y Father, my bride is gone, fair Mistress Luce; m e r c h a n t I will have no great store of company at the M y soul’s the fount of vengeance, m ischief’s sluice. wedding: a couple of neighbours and their wives; and m e r c h a n t Hence, fool, out of my sight with thy fond we will have a capon in stewed broth, with marrow, p assio n ! and a good piece o f beef, stuck with rosemary. Thou hast undone me. Beats him Enter ja s p e r , his face mealed h u m p h r e y Hold, my father dear, 40 For Luce thy daughter’s sake, that had no peer. j a s p e r Forbear thy pains, fond man; it is too late. m e r c h a n t Thy father, fool? There’s some blows m e r c h a n t Heaven bless me! Jasper? more, begone! j a s p e r Ay, I am his ghost, Jasper, I hope thy ghost be well appeased W hom thou hast injured for his constant love, T o see thy will performed. Now will I go Fond worldly wretch, who dost not understand T o satisfy thy father for thy wrongs. In death that true hearts cannot parted be. h u m p h r e y W hat shall I do? I have been beaten twice First, know thy daughter is quite borne away 10 And M istress Luce is gone. Help me, device! On wings o f angels, through the liquid air, Since my true love is gone, I never more To far out o f thy reach, and never more W hilst I do live, upon the sky will pore, Shalt thou behold her face. But she and I But in the dark will wear out my shoe soles 50 W ill in another world enjoy our loves, In passion in Saint Faith’s Church under Paul’s. E x it W here neither father’s anger, poverty, w ife George, call Rafe hither; if you love me, call Rafe Nor any cross that troubles earthly men hither. I have the bravest thing for him to do, Shall make us sever our united hearts. George; prithee call him quickly. c i t i z e n Rafe, why Rafe, boy!

57 Hogsdon or to Newington: places of resort and Enter r a f e recreation 59 thrumming of our caps: decorating caps with tassels (a sign of wasting time) i9-28 a parody of Shakespeare’s Macbeth (i606), III.iv.48-i43 custom: ‘wenching’ 38 fount: source 6i tabor: small drum 39 passion: grief 3-4 capon . . . with rosemary: traditional seventeenth-century 47 device: contrivance wedding fare 5i Saint Faith’s . . . under Paul’s: St Faith’s was a parish church

sd mealed: whitened with flour located in the crypt o f St Paul’s underneath the choir; Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 5 pains: labours (in preparation) gallants would parade in the aisle o f the cathedral above i6 cross: impediment 53 bravest: most splendid

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r a f e Here, sir. 56 care o f the butchers’ hooks at W hitechapel; they have c i t i z e n Com e hither, Rafe; come to thy mistress, boy. been the death of many a fair ancient.— Open your w i f e Rafe, I would have thee call all the youths files that I may take a view both of your persons and together in battle-ray, with drums, and guns, and munition.— Sergeant, call a muster. flags, and march to M ile End in pompous fashion, s e r g e a n t A stand!— W illiam Hamerton, pewterer! and there exhort your soldiers to be merry and wise, h a m e r t o n Here, captain. 101 and to keep their beards from burning, Rafe; and r a f e A corslet and a Spanish pike; ’tis well. Can you then skirmish, and let your flags fly, and cry, ‘Kill, shake it with a terror? kill, kill’. M y husband shall lend you his jerkin, Rafe, h a m e r t o n I hope so, captain. and there’s a scarf, for the rest, the house shall rafe Charge upon me. (ham erton charges upon r a f e ) furnish you, and w e’ll pay for’t. D o it bravely, Rafe, ’Tis with the weakest. Put more strength, W illiam and think before whom you perform, and what Hamerton, more strength. As you were again.— person you represent. 68 Proceed, Sergeant. ra fe I warrant you, mistress, if I do it not for the sergeant George Greengoose, poulterer! honour of the city and the credit of m y master, let me greengoose Here. Ill never hope for freedom. r a f e Let me see your piece, neighbour Greengoose; w ife ’Tis well spoken, i’faith. G o thy ways; thou art a when was she shot in? spark indeed. g r e e n g o o s e A n’t like you, master captain, I made a citizen Rafe, Rafe, double your files bravely, Rafe. shot even now, partly to scour her, and partly for ra fe I warrant you, sir. E x it r a f e au d acity. citizen Let him look narrowly to his service, I shall r a f e It should seem so certainly, for her breath is yet take him else. I was there m yself a pikeman once in inflamed; besides, there is a main fault in the touch- the hottest of the day, wench; had my feather shot hole, it runs and stinketh; and I tell you moreover, sheer away, the fringe o f my pike burnt off with and believe it, ten such touch-holes would breed the powder, my pate broken with a scouring-stick, and pox in the army. G et you a feather, neighbour, get yet I thank God I am here. Drum within you a feather, sweet oil, and paper, and your piece w i f e Hark, George, the drums. 82 may do well enough yet. W here’s your powder? I22 c i t i z e n Ran, tan, tan, tan; ran, tan. Oh, wench, an g r e e n g o o s e H e r e . thou hadst but seen little Ned of Aldgate, Drum - r a f e W hat, in a paper? As I am a soldier and a Ned, how he made it roar again, and laid on like a gentleman, it craves a martial court. You ought to die tyrant, and then struck softly till the ward came up, for’t. W here’s your horn? Answer me to that. and then thundered again, and together we go. ‘Sa, g r e e n g o o s e A n’t like you, sir, I was oblivious. sa, sa, bounce’, quoth the guns; ‘Courage, m y hearts’, r a f e It likes me not you should be so; ’tis a shame for quoth the captains, ‘Saint George’, quoth the you, and a scandal to all our neighbours, being a man pikemen; and withal here they lay, and there they lay. of worth and estimation, to leave your horn behind And yet for all this I am here, wench. 91 you: I am afraid ’twill breed example. But let me tell w i f e Be thankful for it, George, for indeed ’tis you no more on’t.— Stand, till I view you all.— w o n d e rfu l. What’s become o’th nose of your flask? 133 1 s o l d i e r Indeed la, captain, ’twas blown away with Enter r a f e and his company, with drums and colours p o w d er. r a f e M arch fair, my hearts! Lieutenant, beat the rear r a f e Put on a new one at the city’s charge.— W here’s up.— Ancient, let your colours fly; but have a great

96 Whitechapel: a parish to the east of Aldgate known for 59 battle-ray: battle formation its butchers’ shops 60 pompous: ceremonial 99 muster: roll 64 jerkin: jacket or short coat 102 corslet: armour covering the body 65 house: theatre Spanish pike: ‘probably superior to the English’ (Kinney) 71 freedom: rank of freeman in the Grocers’ Company 103 shake it: with sexual connotation 74 double your files: combine your two ranks 111 piece: gun (but with sexual connotation) 76 narrowly: closely 117-18 touch-hole: the ignition hole in the breech of a gun service: manreuvres but, as with most o f the technical language in this scene, 77 take: reprehend with a sexual connotation 80 scouring-stick: cane used for clearing the barrel o f a gun 120 pox: syphilis

86 ward: detachment of the militia 121 feather, sweet oil, and paper: materials for cleaning a gun Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 94-5 beat the rear up: round up with a roll of the drums 126 horn: a) powder horn; b) cuckold’s horn 95 Ancient: ensign-bearer 127 oblivious: forgetful

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the stone of this piece? 137 c i t i z e n Nell, the boy has deceived me much; I did not 2 s o l d i e r The drummer took it out to light tobacco. think it had been in him. H e has performed such a r a f e ’Tis a fault, my friend; put it in again.— You want matter, wench, that if I live, next year I’ll have him a nose— and you a stone.— Sergeant, take a note on’t, captain of the galley-foist, or I’ll want my will. 178 for I mean to stop it in the pay.— Remove, and Enter old m errythought march! Soft and fair, gentlemen, soft and fair! Double your files! As you were! Faces about! Now, o l d merrythought Yet, I thank God, I break not a you with the sodden face, keep in there! Look to your wrinkle more than I had. N ot a stoup, boys? Care live match, sirrah, it will be in your fellow’s flask anon. with cats, I defy thee! M y heart is as sound as an oak, So, make a crescent now; advance your pikes; stand, and though I want drink to wet my whistle, I can and give ear! Gentlemen, countrymen, friends, and sin g : my fellow-soldiers, I have brought you this day from (Sings) Come no more there, boys, come no more the shops o f security and the counters of content, to there; measure out in these furious fields honour by the ell, For we shall nezer whilst we lize, come any and prowess by the pound. Let it not, oh, let it not, I more there. say, be told hereafter the noble issue of this city Enter a b o y and coffin carriers with a coffin fainted, but bear yourselves in this fair action like men, valiant men, and freemen. Fear not the face of boy God save you, sir. the enemy, nor the noise o f the guns, for believe me, o l d merrythought It’s a brave boy. Canst thou sing? brethren, the rude rumbling o f a brewer’s car is far b o y Yes, sir, I can sing, but ’tis not so necessary at this more terrible, o f which you have a daily experience, tim e . neither let the stink o f powder offend you, since a o l d merrythought more valiant stink is nightly with you. T o a resolved (Sings) Sing we, and chant it, 19 0 mind his home is everywhere. I speak not this to take Whilst loze doth grant it. away the hope o f your return; for you shall see, I do boy Sir, sir, if you knew what I have brought you, you not doubt it, and that very shortly, your loving wives would have little list to sing. again, and your sweet children, whose care doth bear old m errythought you company in baskets. Remember, then, whose (Sings) Oh, the minion round, cause you have in hand, and like a sort o f true-born F u ll long I haze thee sought, scavengers, scour me this famous realm o f enemies. I A n d now I haze thee found, have no more to say but this: stand to your tacklings, And what hast thou here brought# lads, and show to the world you can as well brandish boy A coffin, sir, and your dead son Jasper in it. a sword as shake an apron. Saint George, and on, my old m errythought Dead? hearts! 170 (Sings) Why, farew ell he. 2 0 0 o m n e s Saint George! Saint George! Thou wast a bonny boy, w i f e ’Twas well done, Rafe. I’ll send thee a cold capon A n d I did loze thee. a-field, and a bottle of M arch beer; and it may be, Enter ja s p e r come m yself to see thee. j a s p e r Then, I pray you, sir, do so still. i37 stone: a) flint; b) testicle o l d merrythought Ja s p e r ’s g h o st? i39 want: lack (also implying the effects of syphilis) (Sings) Thou art welcomefrom Stygian lake so soon; 144 sodden face: a) drunken; b) suffering the effects o f the Declare to me what wondrous things in sweating-tub treatment for syphilis Pluto’s court are done. 145 match: fuse for igniting musket jasper By my troth, sir, I ne’er came there; ’tis too hot i46-70 stand, and . . . my hearts!: Rafe’s exhortation to his for me, sir. soldiers parodies that o f Richard to his troops in Shakespeare’s Richard III (i593), V .vi.4 4 -8 i, echoes a number of other pre-battle speeches in the history plays, 178 galley-foist: the Lord Mayor’s state barge and contains some o f the rhetorical features of Antony’s 179 break: show speech in Julius Caesar (i599-i600) III.ii.70-i04 180 stoup: measure of drink (two quarts) i50 ell: a measure of forty-five inches i80-i Care live with cats: ‘Care will kill a cat’ i59 valiant stink: another reference with sexual (proverbial) connotations i84-5 Come no . . . more there: from Ballets to Fize Voices by 164 baskets: i.e. of provisions Thomas Morley (i595 and i600)

165 sort: company 205 Stygian lake: the river Styx in the classical underworld Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright i67 tacklings: a) weapons; b) genitals (H ades) i73 March beer: strong beer (brewed early in the season) 207 Pluto’s court: Pluto was the king of Hades

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o l d merrythought A merry ghost, a very merry MISTRESS MERRYTHOUGHT with M ICHAEL (within) g h o st! 2 II SONG (Sings) A n d where is your true love. Oh, where is It was a lady’s daughter, etc. yours# OLD M ERRYTHOUGHT admits M ISTRESS j a s p e r M arry, look you, sir. MERRYTHOUGHT and M ICHAEL Heaves up the Coffin, and l u c e climbs out old m errythought Ah, ha! Art thou good at that, o l d merrythought Come, you’re welcome home i’fa ith ? ag ain . (Sings) With hey, trixy, terlery-whiskin, (Sings) I f such danger be in playing, The world it runs on wheels, A nd jest must to earnest turn, When the young m an’s —, You shall go no more a-maying. 256 Up goes the maiden’s heels. 2 19 m e r c h a n t (within) Are you within, sir? M aster Merrythought? MISTRESS MERRYTHOUGHT and M ICH AEL within jasper It is my master’s voice. Good sir, go hold him m istress m errythought (within) W hat, Master in talk, whilst we convey ourselves into some inward Merrythought, will you not let’s in? W hat do you ro o m . E x it with l u c e think shall become of us? o l d merrythought W hat are you? Are you merry? old m errythought W hat voice is that that calleth at You must be very merry if you enter. o u r d o o r? m e r c h a n t (within) I am, sir. m istress m errythought (within) You know me well old m errythought Sing then. enough; I am sure I have not been such a stranger to m e r c h a n t (within) Nay, good sir, open to me. yo u . old m errythought Sing, I say, or, by the merry OLD MERRYTHOUGHT heart, you come not in. (Sings) A n d some they whistled, and some they sung, m e r c h a n t (within) W ell, sir, I’ll sing: Hey, down, down! (Sings) Fortune my foe, etc. 2 7 0 A n d some did loudly say, 2 30 OLD M ERRYTHOUGHT admits M ERCHANT E v e r as the Lord Barnet’s horn blew, Away, Musgrave, away. o l d merrythought You are welcome, sir, you are m istress m errythought (within) You will not have welcome. You see your entertainment; pray you, be us starve here, will you, M aster M errythought? m erry. jasper Nay, good sir, be persuaded, she is my mother. m e r c h a n t Oh, M aster Merrythought, I am come to If her offences have been great against you, let your ask y o u own love remember she is yours, and so forgive Forgiveness for the wrongs I offered you h er. And your most virtuous son; they’re infinite; l u c e Good M aster Merrythought, let me entreat you; Yet my contrition shall be more than they. I will not be denied. 240 I do confess my hardness broke his heart, m istress m errythought (within) W hy, Master For which just heaven hath given me punishment M errythought, will you be a vexed thing still? M ore than my age can carry. H is wandering spirit, 280 old m errythought W oman, I take you to my love again; but you shall sing before you enter; therefore 251 It was a lady’s daughter, etc.: from a broadside ballad that dispatch your song and so come in. begins: m istress m errythought (within) W ell, you must It was a lady’s daughter, have your will when all’s done.— M ick, what song O f Paris properly, Her mother her commanded canst thou sing, boy? To mass that she should hie: m i c h a e l (within) I can sing none, forsooth, but 0 pardon me, dear mother, ‘A Lady’s Daughter of Paris’ properly. 250 Her daughter dear did say, Unto that filthy idol 215 The world it runs on wheels: proverbial 1 never can obey 216 When the young man’s . . .: the omitted word is possibly 254-6 I f such . . . more a-maying. from ‘M y Love Hath Vowed’ ‘frisking’. Some editors note the Act to Restrain the in Philip Rosseter’s Book of Airs (1601) Abuses of the Players (1606) as an explanation for this playing: flirting omission (as in Interlude 1.11) 270 Fortune my foe, etc.: from a very popular song that begins: 228-32 And some . . . Musgrave, away: from the ballad of Little Fortune my foe, why dost thou frown on me?

Margaret and Lady Barnard And will thy favours never better be? Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 237 own love: self-love W ilt thou, I say, for ever breed my pain? 242 vexed: cantankerous And wilt thou not restore my joys again?

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Not yet at rest, pursues me everywhere, W here sitting, I espied a lovely dame, Crying, ‘I’ll haunt thee for thy cruelty’. W hose master wrought with lingel and with awl, M y daughter, she is gone, I know not how, And under ground he vamped many a boot. 320 Taken invisible, and whether living Straight did her love prick forth me, tender sprig, O r in grave, ’tis yet uncertain to me. T o follow feats of arms in warlike wise Oh M aster M errythought, these are the weights Through W altham Desert, where I did perform W ill sink me to my grave. Forgive me, sir. M any achievements, and did lay on ground o l d merrythought W hy, sir, I do forgive you, and Huge Barbaroso, that insulting giant, b e m e rry ; And all his captives soon set at liberty. And if the wag in’s lifetime played the knave, Then honour pricked me from my native soil Can you forgive him too? Into M oldavia, where I gained the love m e r c h a n t With all my heart, sir. 290 O f Pompiona, his beloved daughter, o l d merrythought Speak it again, and heartily. But yet proved constant to the black-thumbed maid MERCHANT I do, sir, Susan, and scorned Pompiona’s love. 331 Now, by my soul, I do. Yet liberal I was, and gave her pins, o l d merrythought And money for her father’s officers. (Sings) With that came out his paramour; I then returned home, and thrust m yself She was as white as the lily flower, In action, and by all men chosen was Hey, trolly, trolly, lolly. Lord of the M ay, where I did flourish it, W ith scarfs and rings, and posy in my hand. Enter l u c e and ja s p e r After this action, I preferred was, With that came out her own dear knight, And chosen city captain at M ile End, He was as true as ezer did fight. etc. W ith hat and feather and with leading-staff, 340 Sir, if you will forgive ’em, clap their hands together; And trained my men and brought them all off clear there’s no more to be said i’th’ matter. (Save one man that berayed him with the noise). MERCHANT I do, I do. 300 But all these things I Rafe did undertake c i t i z e n I do not like this.— Peace, boys, hear me one Only for my beloved Susan’s sake. of you. Everybody’s part is come to an end but Rafe’s, Then coming home, and sitting in my shop an d h e ’s le ft ou t. W ith apron blue, Death came unto my stall b o y ’Tis long of yourself, sir; we have nothing to do To cheapen aqua zitae— but ere I with his part. Could take the bottle down, and fill a taste, c i t i z e n Rafe, come away.— M ake an end on him as Death caught a pound of pepper in his hand, you have done o f the rest, boys; come. And sprinkled all my face and body o’er, 350 w i f e Now, good husband, let him come out and die. And in an instant vanished away. c i t i z e n H e shall Nell.— Rafe, come away quickly and c i t i z e n ’Tis a pretty fiction i’faith. die, boy. 310 r a f e Then took I up my bow and shaft in hand, b o y ’Tw ill be very unfit he should die, sir, upon no And walked into M oorfields to cool myself; occasion, and in a comedy too. But there grim cruel Death met me again, c i t i z e n T ake you no care of that, sir boy, is not his And shot this forked arrow through my head, part at an end, think you, when he’s dead?— Come And now I faint. Therefore be warned by me, away, Rafe. M y fellows every one, of forked heads. Farewell, all you good boys in merry London; Enter r a f e , with a forked arrow through his head Ne’er shall we more upon Shrove Tuesday meet 360 r a f e W hen I was mortal, this my costive corpse D id lap up figs and raisins in the Strand, 319 lingel: waxed thread used by shoemakers 320 vamped: renewed the uppers of 289 wag: mischievous boy 321 prick: spur (with sexual connotation) 298 clap their hands together: i.e. as a sign o f betrothal 325 insulting: bragging 304 long: on account 329 his: i.e. the King of Moldavia’s sd forked: barbed. Parody o f the entrance of Clifford in The 337 posy: bouquet True Tragedy of Richard Duke ofYork (i595) 340 leading-staff: officer’s baton 3i6-5i parody of ghost scenes in Eastward Ho! (i605) by 342 berayed him: befouled himself George Chapman, Ben Jonson and John Marston, The 347 cheapen: bargain for

Spanish Tragedy, and Richard III 354 Moorfields: a popular summer resort north o f the city Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright 316 costive: reluctant (plays on ‘constipated’) walls beyond Moorgate 317 figs and raisins: fruits used as laxatives 358 forked heads: i.e. o f cuckolds

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And pluck down houses of iniquity. Epilogus M y pain increaseth.— I shall never more H old open, whilst another pumps both legs, c i t i z e n Come Nell, shall we go? The play’s done. N or daub a satin gown with rotten eggs; w i f e Nay, by my faith, George, I have more manners Set up a stake, oh, never more I shall. than so; I’ll speak to these gentlemen first.— I thank I die; fly, fly, m y soul, to Grocers’ Hall. you all, gentlemen, for your patience and Oh, oh, oh, etc. countenance to Rafe, a poor fatherless child; and if I w i f e W ell said, Rafe. Do your obeisance to the might see you at m y house, it should go hard but I gentlemen and go your ways. W ell said, Rafe. 369 would have a pottle of wine and a pipe of tobacco for E x it RAFE you; for, truly, I hope you do like the youth, but I o l d merrythought M ethinks all we, thus kindly and would be glad to know the truth. I refer it to your unexpectedly reconciled, should not depart without a own discretions, whether you will applaud him or no; so n g . for I will wink, and whilst you shall do what you will. m e r c h a n t A good motion. I thank you with all my heart. God give you good o l d merrythought Strike up, then. night.— Come, George. SONG Exeunt Better music ne’er was known Than a choir o f hearts in one. FINIS Let each other that hath been Troubled with the gall or spleen, Learn o f us to keep his brow Smooth and plain as ours are now. 3 8 0 Sing, though before the hour o fdying; H e shall rise, and then be crying, Hey, ho, ’tis nought but mirth, That keeps the body from the earth’. Exeunt o m n e s

360-1 Shrove Tuesday . . . of iniquity: the last day before Lent was a time of revelry and riot for apprentices who sometimes attacked theatres and brothels 7 pottle: measure of two quarts 364 satin gown: the dress of gallants as dandies tobacco: Nell’s sense of hospitality (and social climbing)

365 Set up a stake: reference to the use o f staked cockerels as outweighs her antipathy to tobacco at 1.210-14 Copyright © 2002. Routledge. All rights reserved. rights All Routledge. 2002. © Copyright targets 11 will wink: close my eyes 371 depart: i.e. take leave of one another whilst: meanwhile

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