Tread on my neck: I freely offer it; And, if thou be'st so given, take revenge, For I have injured thee. Tigr. No; I forgive, And rejoice more that you have found repentance Arb. May'st thou be happy. In thy fair choice, for thou art temperate! Know that I have a thousand joys to tell you of, Which yet I dare not utter, till I pay 291 Arb. Take then your fair one with you.-And you, queen Of goodness and of us, oh, give me leave THE KNIGHT OF THE BURNING PESTLE. London. 1613.1 PROLOGUE, FROM THE SECOND EDITION (1635). WHERE the bee can suck no honey, she leaves her sting behind; and where the bear cannot find origanum to heal his grief, he blasteth all the other leaves with his breath. We fear it is like to fare so with us; that, seeing you cannot draw from our labours sweet content, you leave behind you a sour mislike, and with open reproach blame our good meaning, because you cannot reap the wonted mirth. Our intent was at this time to move inward delight, not outward lightness; and to breed (if it might be) soft smiling, not loud laughing; knowing it, to the wise, to be a great pleasure to hear counsel mixed with wit, as to the foolish to have sport mingled with rudeness. They were banished the theatre of Athens, and from Rome hissed, that brought parasites on the stage, with apish actions, or fools with uncivil habits, or courtezans with immodest words. We have endeavoured your ears glow, as we hope you will be free from to be as far from unseemly speeches, to make tion, who never aimed at any one particular, in unkind reports, or mistaking the author's intenthis play, to make our cheeks blush. And thus I leave it, and thee to thine own censure, to like or dislike.-VALE. MASTER HUMPHREY, a Friend to the Merchant. OLD MASTER MERRYTHOUGHT, Father of JASPER and MICHAEL. Tapster. Three supposed Knights. WILLIAM HAMERTON. Soldiers. Boy, that danceth and singeth. MICHAEL, Second Son of MISTRESS MERRY-LUCE, the Merchant's Daughter, beloved of and SCENE-London, and the neighbouring Country, excepting Act IV., Scene II., where it is in Moldavia. 1 It is uncertain whether this excellent burlesque comedy was the joint production of both Beaumont and Fletcher, or whether only one of them should get the credit of it. burlesque was suggested by Don Quixote. A. W. Schlegel calls it an incomparable and singular work of its kind,' and that although the thought is borrowed from Don Quixote, the imitation is handled with freedom, It is generally supposed that the idea of the and so particularly applied to Spencer's Fairy Queen, that it may pass for a second invention.' 2 origanum-wild marjoram, INDUCTION. Enter Speaker of the Prologue. The Citizen, his Wife, and RALPH, sitting below the stage among the Spectators. Several Gentlemen sitting upon the Stage.1 Prologue. From all that's near the court, from all that's great Within the compass of the city walls, Citizen leaps upon the Stage. Cit. Hold your peace, goodman boy! Cit. That you have no good meaning. This seven years there hath been plays at this house, I have observed it, you have still girds at citizens; and now you call your play The London Merchant. Down with your title, boy, down with your title! Prol. Are you a member of the noble city? Prol. And a freeman? Cit. Yea, and a grocer. Prol. So, grocer; then, by your sweet favour, we intend no abuse to the city. Cit. No, sir? yes, sir; if you were not resolved to play the Jacks, what need you study for new subjects, purposely to abuse your betters? Why could not you be contented, as well as others, with the legend of Whittington, or the Life and Death of Sir Thomas Gresham, with the building of the Royal Exchange? or the story of Queen Eleanor, with the rearing of London Bridge upon woolsacks?4 Prol. You seem to be an understanding man; what would you have us do, sir? Cit. Why, present something notably in honour of the commons of the city. Prol. Why, what do you say to the Life and Death of fat Drake, or the Repairing of Flect Privies? 4 Cit. I do not like that; but I will have a citizen, and he shall be of my own trade. Prol. Oh, you should have told us your mind a month since; our play is ready to begin now. Cit. 'Tis all one for that; I will have a grocer, and he shall do admirable things. Prol. What will you have him do? Wife. [Below.] Husband, husband! Wife. Hold thy peace, Ralph; I know what I do, I warrant thee. Husband, husband! Cit. What say'st thou, cony? Wife. Let him kill a lion with a Pestle, husband! let him kill a lion with a Pestle! Cit. So he shall; I'll have him kill a lion with a Pestle. Wife. Husband! shall I come up, husband? Cit. Ay, cony. - Ralph, help your mistress this way.-Pray, gentlemen, make her a little room. I pray you, sir, lend me your hand to help up my wife. I thank you, sir; so! [Wife comes upon the Stage. 1 The practice of accommodating gallants with seats on the stage, is often alluded to in old plays; and they commonly paid from a sixpence to a shilling for a stool, according to the value of the seat.-WEBER. 2 girds-gibes, sarcasms. See note 7, p. 49, col. 1. 3 play the Jacks. This seems to have been a proverbial expression at the time. They were all probably names of contemporary plays. Wife. By your leave, gentlemen all! I'm something troublesome. I'm a stranger here; I was ne'er at one of these plays, as they say, before; but I should have seen Jane Shore' once; and my husband hath promised me, any time this twelvemonth, to carry me to the Bold Beauchamps, but in truth he did not. I pray you bear with me. Cit. Boy, let my wife and I have a couple of stools, and then begin; and let the grocer do rare things. [Stools are brought, and they sit down. Prol. But, sir, we have never a boy to play him. Every one hath a part already. Wife. Husband, husband, for God's sake, let Ralph play him! Beshrew me, if I do not think he will go beyond them all. Cit. Well remember'd, wife.-Come up, Ralph! I'll tell you, gentlemen; let them but lend him a suit of reparrel, and necessaries, and, by gad, if any of them all blow wind in the tail on him, I'll be hanged! [RALPH comes on the Stage. Wife. I pray you, youth, let him have a suit of reparrel. I'll be sworn, gentlemen, my husband tells you true. He will act you sometimes at our house, that all the neighbours cry out on him; he will fetch you up a couraging part so in the garret, that we are all as feared, I warrant you, that we quake again. We'll fear our children with him; if they be never so unruly, do but cry, Ralph comes, Ralph comes!' to them, and they'll be as quiet as lambs.-Hold up thy head, Ralph; show the gentleman what thou canst do; speak a huffing part; I warrant you the gentlemen will accept of it. Cit. Do, Ralph, do. Ralph. By Heaven, methinks, it were an easy leap To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the bottom of the sea, Where never fathom-line touch'd any ground, And pluck up drowned honour from the lake of hell. Cit. What stately music have you? you have shaums? 1 Prol. Shaums? No. Cit. No? I'm a thief if my mind did not give me so. Ralph plays a stately part, and he must needs have shaums. I'll be at the charge of them myself, rather than we'll be without them. Prol. So you are like to be. Cit. Why, and so I will be. There's two shillings; lets have the waits of Southwark! they are as rare fellows as any are in England, and that will fetch them o'er the water, with a vengeance, as if they were mad. Prol. You shall have them. then? Cit. Ay.-Come, wife. Will you sit down Wife. Sit you merry all, gentlemen; I'm bold to sit amongst you for my ease. Prol. From all that's near the court, from all that's great Within the compass of the city walls, We now have brought our scene: Fly far from hence All private taxes, [all] immodest phrases, For wicked mirth never true pleasure brings, Cit. Take you no care for Ralph; he'll discharge himself, I warrant you. Wife. I' faith, gentlemen, I'll give my word for Ralph. ACT I.-SCENE I. A Room in the House of VENTERWELS. Enter VENTERWELS and JASPER. She is private to herself, and best of knowledge Vent. "Tis very well, sir; I can tell your wisdom Jasp. Your care becomes you. Vent. And thus it must be, sir: I here dis- And when I want a son, I'll send for you. [Exit. Oh, you that live in freedom never prove Enter LUCE. Luce. Why, how now, friend? struck with my Jasp. Struck, and struck dead, unless the Be full of speed and virtue; I am now, I am; Luce. Oh, fear me not! In this I dare be better than a woman. Luce. Yes, and love him dearly; I do not mean to do him so much kindness. Luce. Yes, and will perform Vent. Sirrah, I'll make you know you are my My part exactly. And whom my charitable love redeem'd Even from the fall of fortune; gave thee heat And growth, to be what now thou art, new-cast thee; Adding the trust of all I have, at home, In foreign staples, or upon the sea, To thy direction; tied the good opinions To love your master's daughter; and even then Jasp. Sir, I do liberally confess I am yours, 1 shaums-see note 3, p. 64, col. 2. 2 All private taxes-i.e. all private taskings,' or reflections on individuals.-WEBER. Jasp. I desire no more. Farewell, and keep my heart; 'tis yours. He must do miracles, makes me forsake it. [Exeunt. 'Cit. Fy upon 'em, little infidels! what a Well, I'll be hang'd for a matter's here now? halfpenny, it there be not some abomination knavery in this play. Well; let 'em look to't; Ralph must come, and if there be any tricks abrewing Wife. Let 'em brew and bake too, husband, a' God's name; Ralph will find all out, I warrant you, an they were older than they are.-I pray, my pretty youth, is Ralph ready? Boy. He will be presently. Wife. Now, I pray you, make my commendations unto him, and withal, carry him this stick of liquorice; tell him his mistress sent it him; and bid him bite a piece; 'twill open his pipes [Exit Boy. the better, say.' Enter VENTERWELS and Master HUMPHREY. she's yours; You have my hand: for other idle lets 2 That like a bladder blew himself with love, I have let out, and sent him to discover Hum. I thank you, sir, Indeed I thank you, sir; and, ere I stir, Although, as writers say, all things have end, My love, more endless than frail things or gut. Wife. Husband, I pr'ythee, sweet lamb, tell me one thing; but tell me truly.-Stay, youths, I beseech you, till I question my husband. Cit. What is it, mouse? 'Wife. Sirrah, didst thou ever see a prettier child? How it behaves itself, I warrant ye! and speaks, and looks, and perts up the head! I pray you, brother, with your favour, were you never none of Master Moncaster's scholars? Cit. Chicken, I pr'ythee heartily contain thyself; the childer 2 are pretty childer; but when Ralph comes, lamb Wife. Ay, when Ralph comes, cony!-Well, my youth, you may proceed.' Vent. Well, sir; you know my love, and rest, I hope, Assured of my consent; get but my daughter's, And wed her when you please. You must be bold, And clap in close unto her; come, I know Hum. I take your gentle offer, and withal Enter LUCE. Luce. Call'd you, sir? Give entertainment to this gentleman; [Exit. Hum. Fair Mistress Luce, how do you? are you well? Give me your hand, and then I pray you tell Luce. Sir, these are quickly answered. Where women are not cruel. But how far For stealing rabbits whilome in that place, God Cupid, or the keeper, I know not whether, Unto my cost and charges brought you thither, And there began Luce. Your game, sir? Hum. Let no game, Or anything that tendeth to the same, 1 Moncaster, or rather Mulcaster, was appointed master of Merchant Tailor's School at its original institution in 1561-WEBER. childer-this old plural of child is still in use in Scotland. 3 stringer-same as striker, i.e. libertine. 4 tiler-a cross-bow. 6 Wife. There's a kind gentleman, I warrant you; when will you do as much for me, George?' Luce. Beshrew me, sir, I'm sorry for your losses; But, as the proverb says, 'I cannot cry;' Unless you had more maw to do me good. Send for a constable, and raise the town. Hum. Oh, no, my valiant love will batter down Millions of constables, and put to flight Even that great watch of Midsummer-day at night.1 Luce. Beshrew me, sir, 'twere good I yielded then; Weak women cannot hope, where valiant men Hum. Yield then; I am full What would you more? Hum. Nothing. Luce. Why, then, farewell! Hum. Nor so, nor so; for, lady, I must tell, Before we part for what we met together; God grant me time, and patience, and fair weather! Luce. Speak, and declare your mind in terms so brief. Hum. I shall; then first and foremost, for relief I call to you, if that you can afford it; I care not at what price, for on my word, it me In furious blanket like a tennis-ball, Luce. Alas, good gentleman, alas the day! I' th' morning like a man, at night a beast, Luce. Now, by St. Mary, Hum. So it were, beshrew me ; Then ease me, lusty Luce, and pity show me. Luce. Why, sir, you know my will is nothing worth Without my father's grant; get his consent, Hum. The worshipfal your sire will not deny me, For I have ask'd him, and he hath replied, 'Sweet Master Humphrey, Luce shall be thy bride.' Luce. Sweet Master Humphrey, then I am content. Hum. And so am I, in truth. 1 This probably alludes to a custom of celebrating the vigil of St. John the Baptist after sunset, when, among other things, 2000 men perambulated the streets. -WEBER. Luce. Yet take me with you; But he that stole me hence. If you dare venture, I'm yours (you need not fear; my father loves you); If not, farewell for ever! Hum. Stay, nymph, stay! have a double gelding, colour'd bay, Sprung by his father from Barbarian kind; Another for myself, though somewhat blind, Yet true as trusty tree. Luce. I am satisfied; And so I give my hand. Our course must lie I am resolved to venture life and limb, [Exit HUMPHREY. 'Wife. By my faith and troth, George, and as I am virtuous, it is e'en the kindest young man that ever trod on shoe-leather. Well, go thy ways; if thou hast her not, 'tis not thy fault, faith. Cit. I pr'ythee, mouse, be patient! a' shall have her, or I'll make some of 'em smoke for't. Enter RALPH, like a Grocer, with two Apprentices, reading Palmerin of England. 'Wife. Oh, husband, husband, now, now! there's Ralph, there's Ralph.' 'Cit. Peace, fool! let Ralph alone.-Hark you, Ralph; do not strain yourself too much at the first. Peace! Begin, Ralph.' Ralph. [Reads.] Then Palmerin and Trineus, snatching their lances from their dwarfs, and clasping their helmets, galloped amain after the giant; and Palmerin having gotten a sight of him, came posting amain, saying, 'Stay, traitorous thief! for thou mayst not so carry away her, that is worth the greatest lord in the world, and, with these words, gave him a blow on the shoulder, that he struck him besides his elephant. And Trineus coming to the knight that had Agricola behind him, set him soon besides his horse, with his neck broken in the fall; so that the princess getting out of the throng, between joy and grief, said, 'All happy knight, the mirror of all such as follow aims, now may I be well assured of the love thou bearest me.'3 I wonder why the kings do not raise an army of fourteen or fifteen hundred thousand men, as big as the army that the Prince of Portigo brought against Rosicler, and destroy these giants; they do much hurt to wandering damsels, that go in quest of their knights. 1 a'-he. 2 tobacco. At the time our authors wrote, tobacco, wine, and beer, were the usual accommodations in the theatre.-REED. 3 This passage is taken, with some slight variations, from Palmerin D'Oliva, the Mirror of Nobility, Map of Honour, &c., and most accomplished Knight in all Perfections (1588).-REED. 4 These were characters in the celebrated Espeio de Caballenso, one of the romances condemned by the curate in Don Quixote to the flames.-WEBER. 'Wife. 'Faith, husband, and Ralph says true; for they say the King of Portugal cannot sit at his meat, but the giants and the ettins' will come and snatch it from him. Cit. Hold thy tongue.-On, Ralph!' Ralph. And certainly those knights are much to be commended, who, neglecting their possessions, wander with a squire and a dwarf through the deserts, to relieve poor ladies. 'Wife. Ay, by my faith are they, Ralph; let 'em say what they will, they are indeed. Our knights neglect their possessions well enough, but they do not the rest.' Ralph. There are no such courteous and fair well-spoken knights in this age. But what brave spirit could be content to sit in his shop, with a flappet of 'wood, and a blue apron before him, selling Methridatam2 and dragon's water to visited houses, that might pursue feats of arms, and, through his noble achievements, procure such a famous history to be written of his heroic prowess? Cit. Well said, Ralph; some more of those words, Ralph! Wife. They go finely, by my troth.' Ralph. Why should not I then pursue this course, both for the credit of myself and our company? for amongst all the worthy books of achievements, I do not call to mind that I yet read of a Grocer-Errant; I will be the said Knight -Have you heard of any that hath wandered unfurnished of his squire and dwarf? My elder prentice Tim shall be my trusty squire, and little George my dwarf. Hence, my blue apron! Yet, in remembrance of my former trade, upon my shield shall be portrayed a Burning Pestle, and I will be called the Knight of the Burning Pestle. 'Wife. Nay, I dare swear thou wilt not forget thy old trade; thou wert ever meek.' Ralph. Tim! Tim. Anon. Ralph. My beloved squire, and George my dwarf, charge you that from henceforth you never call me by any other name but the Right courteous and valiant Knight of the Burning Pestle; and that you never call any female by the name of a woman or wench, but fair lady, if she have her desires; if not, distressed damsel; that you call all forests and heaths, deserts, and all horses, palfries! Wife. This is very fine!-'Faith, do the gentlemen like Ralph, think you, husband? Cit. Ay, I warrant thee; the players would give all the shoes in their shop for him.' Ralph. My beloved squire Tim, stand out. Admit this were a desert, and over it a knighterrant pricking, and I should bid you inquire of his intents, what would you say? Tim. Sir, my master sent me to know whither you are riding?? Ralph. No! thus: Fair sir! the Right courteous and valiant Knight of the Burning Pestle commanded me to inquire upon what adventure you are bound, whether to relieve some distressed damsels, or otherwise.' Cit. Whoreson blockhead, cannot remember! 'Wife. I'faith, and Ralph told him on't before; |