all the gentlemen heard him; did he not, gentlemen? did not Ralph tell him on't?' George. Right courteous and valiant Knight of the Burning Pestle, here is a distressed damsel, to have a halfpenny-worth of pepper. Wife. That's a good boy! See, the little boy can hit it. By my troth, it's a fine child.' Ralph. Relieve her with all courteous language. Now shut up shop; no more my 'prentice, but My trusty squire and dwarf. I must bespeak My shield, and arming Pestle. Cit. Go thy ways, Ralph! As I am a true man, thou art the best on 'em all. A Room in MERRYTHOUGHT's House. Enter JASPER and Mrs. MERRYTHOUGHT. Mrs. Mer. Give thee my blessing? No, I'll no'er give thee my blessing; I'll see thee hang'd first; it shall ne'er be said I gave thee my blessing. Thou art thy father's own son, of the right blood of the Merrythoughts; I may curse the time that e'er I knew thy father; he hath spent all his own, and mine too; and when I tell him of it, he laughs, and dances, and sings, and cries, A merry heart lives long-a.' And thou art a wastethrift, and art run away from thy master, that loved thee well, and art come to me; and I have laid up a little for my younger son Michael, and thou think'st to 'bezzle that, but thou shalt never be able to do it. Wife. I'faith, it's a fine spoken child!' Jasp. Mother, though you forget a parent's love, I must preserve the duty of a child. I ran not from my master, nor return To have your stock maintain my idleness. 6 Wife. Ungracious child, I warrant him! hark, how he chops logic with his mother. Thou hadst best tell her she lies; do, tell her she lies. Cit. If he were my son, I would hang him up by the heels, and flay him, and salt him, whoreson halter-sack!'! Jasp. My coming only is to beg your love, There is no drop of blood hid in these veins, Mrs. Mer. l'faith, I had sorrow enough for thee (God knows), but I'll hamper thee well enough.Get thee in, thou vagabond, get thee in, and learn of thy brother Michael. Mer. [Singing within.] Nose, nose, jolly red nose, 1 halter-sack-gallows-bird. Mrs. Mer. Hark, my husband! he's singing and hoiting; and I'm fain to cark2 and care, Charles! and all little enough.- Husband! Charles Merrythought! Enter Old MERRYTHOUGHT. Mer. [Singing.] Nutmegs and ginger, cinnamon and cloves; And they gave me this jolly red nose. Mrs. Mer. If you would consider your state, you would have little lust to sing, I wis. Mer. It should never be considered, while it were an estate, if I thought it would spoil my singing. Mrs. Mer. But how wilt thou do, Charles? Thou art an old man, and thou canst not work, and thou hast not forty shillings left, and thou eatest good meat, and drinkest good drink, and laughest. Mer. And will do. Mrs. Mer. But how wilt thou come by it, Charles? Mer. How? Why, how have I done hitherto these forty years? I never came into my diningroom, but, at eleven and six o'clock,3 I found excellent meat and drink o' th' table; my clothes were never worn out, but next morning a tailor brought me a new suit; and without question it will be so ever! Use makes perfectness; if all should fail, it is but a little straining myself extraordinary, and laugh myself to death. Wife. It's a foolish old man this; is not he George? Cit. Yes, cony Wife. Give me a penny i' th' purse while I live, George. Cit. Ay, by'r lady, cony, hold thee there!' Mrs. Mer. Well, Charles, you promised to provide for Jasper, and I have laid up for Michael. I pray you pay Jasper his portion; he's come home, and he shall not consume Michael's stock. He says his master turned him away, but I promise you truly I think he ran away. Wife. No, indeed, Mistress Merrythought, though he be a notable gallows, yet I'll assure you his master did turn him away, even in this place; 'twas, i'faith, within this half-hour, about his daughter; my husband was by. Cit. Hang him, rogue! he served him well enough. Love his master's daughter? By my troth, cony, if there were a thousand boys, thou wouldst spoil them all, with taking their parts; let his mother alone with him. Wife. Ay, George, but yet truth is truth.' Mer. Where is Jasper? he's welcome, however. Call him in; he shall have his portion. Is he merry? Mrs. Mer. Ay, foul chive him, he is too merry. Jasper! Michael! Enter JASPER and MICHAEL. Mer. Welcome, Jasper! though thou runn'st away, welcome!' God bless thee! 'Tis thy mother's mind thou shouldst receive thy portion: thou hast been abroad, and I hope hast learn'd experience enough to govern it; thou art of sufficient years; hold thy hand: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, there is ten shillings for thee; thrust thyself into the world with that, If Fortune cross and take some settled, course. thee, thou hast a retiring place; come home to me; I have twenty shillings left. Be a good husband; that is, wear ordinary clothes, eat the best meat, and drink the best drink; be merry, and give to the poor, and, believe me, thou hast no end of thy goods. Jasp. Long may you live free from all thought And long have cause to be thus merry still! Mer. No more words, Jasper; get thee gone! Thou hast my blessing; thy father's spirit upon thee! Farewell, Jasper! But yet, or ere you part (oh, cruel!) Kiss me, kiss me, sweeting, mine own dear jewel! So; now begone; no words! [Exit JASPER. Mrs. Mer. So, Michael; now get thee gone too. Mich. Yes, forsooth, mother; but I'll have my father's blessing first. Mrs. Mer. No, Michael; 'tis no matter for his I'll blessing; thou hast my blessing; be gone. fetch my money and jewels, and follow thee. I'll stay no longer with him, I warrant thee.-Truly, Charles, I'll be gone too. Mer. What! you will not? Mer. [Sings.] Hey-ho, farewell, Nan! I'll never trust wench more again, if I can. Mrs. Mer. You shall not think (when all your own is gone) to spend that I have been scraping up for Michael. Mer. Farewell, good wife! I expect it not; all I have to do in this world, is to be merry; which I shall, if the ground be not taken from me; and if it be, When earth and seas from me are reft, END OF ACT L [Sings. Hum. Right worshipful, and my beloved friend Is found so tractable. Hum. Nay, she must whirl From hence (and you must wink; for so, I say, Wife. George, dost thou think in thy con- Cit. No, no; I pr'ythee sit still, honeysuckle; thou'lt spoil all. If he deny him, I'll bring half a dozen good fellows myself, and in the shutting of an evening knock it up, and there's an end. 'Wife. I'll buss thee for that, i'faith, boy! Well, George, well, you have been a wag in your days, I warrant you; but God forgive you, and I do with all my heart.' Vent. How was it, son? you told me that to morrow Before day-break, you must convey her hence. Why should you be thus full of grief to me, เ 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, But tell me why To make your joys more full. You may not here perform your marriage? Wife. God's blessing o' thy soul, old man! [Exeunt. Ifaith, thou art loath to part true hearts. I see a' has her, George; and I'm as glad on't!-Well, go thy ways, Humphrey, for a fair-spoken man; I believe thou hast not thy fellow within the walls of London; an I should say the suburbs too, I should not lie. Why dost not rejoice with me, George? 'Wife. I'll be sworn he's a merry old gentleman, for all that. Hark, hark, husband, hark! fiddles, fiddles! [Music.] Now surely they go finely. They say 'tis present death for these fiddlers to tune their rebecks before the great Turk's grace; is't not, George! [Boy danceth.] But look, look! here's a youth dances! Now, Sweetheart, good youth, do a turn o' th' toe. 'faith I'll have Ralph come and do some of his gambols; he'll ride the wild-mare, gentlemen, 'twould do your hearts good to see him. I thank you, kind youth; pray, bid Ralph come. Cit. Peace, cony!-Sirrah, you scurvy boy, bid the players send Ralph; or, by God's wounds, an they do not, I'll tear some of their periwigs beside their heads; this is all riff-raff.' ACT II.-SCENE I. A Room in the House of VENTERWELS. 1 A rebeck was an instrument of three strings somewhat like a modern fiddle. "Cit. If I could but see Ralph again, I were as merry as mine host, i'faith.' Hlum. The cause you seem to ask, I thus declare : (Help me, oh, muses nino!) Your daughter sware A foolish oath, the more it was the pity; For her own ease; for sure sometimes an oath, Some ten miles off, in the wild Waltham Forest. I'll neither follow, nor repent the deed. Hum. Good night, twenty good nights, and twenty more, And twenty more good nights, that makes threescore! [Exeunt. ACT II-SCENE II. Night. Waltham Forest. Enter Mrs. MERRYTHOUGHT and MICHAEL. Mrs. Mer. Come, Michael; art thou not weary, boy? Mich. No, forsooth, mother, not I. Mrs. Mer. Where be we now, child? Mich. Indeed, forsooth, mother, I cannot tell, unless we be at Mile-End. Is not all the world Mile-End, mother? Mrs. Mer. No, Michael, not all the world, boy; but I can assure thee, Michael, Mile-End is a goodly matter. There has been a pitchfield,' my child, between the naughty Spaniels and the Englishmen; and the Spaniels ran away, Michael, and the Englishmen followed. My neighbour Coxstone was there, boy, and killed them all with a birding-piece. Mich. Mother, forsooth! 2 go Ralph. Lace on my helm again! What noise is this? A gentle lady, flying the embrace Of some uncourteous kinght? I will relieve her. In honour of all ladies, swears revenge Upon that recreant coward that pursues her; Tim. I go, brave knight. Ralph. My trusty dwarf and friend, reach me my shield; And hold it while I swear: First, by my knight- Then by the soul of Amadis de Gaul, Due to distressed damsels, here I vow Geo. Heaven bless the knight Mrs. Mer. What says my white boy? Mich. Shall not my father go with us too? Mrs. Mer. No, Michael, let thy father. up, he shall never come between a pair of sheets with me again, while he lives; let him stay at home and sing for his supper, boy.-Come, child, sit down, and I'll show my boy fine knacks, indeed. [Takes out a casket. Look here, Michael; here's a ring, and here's a brooch, and here's a bracelet, and here's two rings more, and here's money and gold, by th' eye, my boy! Mich. Shall I have all this, mother? [Exit. That thus relieves poor errant gentlewomen! [Exit. Wife. Ay marry, Ralph, this has some savour in't; I would see the proudest of them all offer to carry his books after him. But, George, I will not have him go away so soon; I shall be sick if he go away, that I shall. Call Ralph again, George, call Ralph again; I pr'ythee, sweetheart, let him come fight before me, and let's ha' some Mrs. Mer. Ay, Michael, thou shalt have all, drums, and some trumpets, and let him kill all Michael. 'Cit. How lik'st thou this, wench? 'Wife. I cannot tell; I would have Ralph, George; I'll see no more else, indeed-la; and I pray you let the youths understand so much by word of mouth; for I tell you truly, I'm afraid o' my boy. Come, come, George, let's be merry and wise; the child's a fatherless child, and say they should put him into a strait pair of gaskins, 'twere worse than knot-grass; he would never grow after it. 3 Enter RALPH, TIM, and GEORGE. 'Cit. Here's Ralph, here's Ralph. Wife. How do you, Ralph ? you are welcome, Ralph, as I may say. It's a good boy! hold up thy head, and be not afraid; we are thy friends, Ralph. The gentlemen will praise thee, Ralph, if thou play'st thy part with audacity. Begin, Ralph, a' God's name!' Ralph. My trusty squire, unlace my helm; give me my hat. Where are we, or what desert may this be? George. Mirror of knighthood, this is, as I take it, the perilous Waltham Down, in whose bottom stands the enchanted valley. Mrs. Mer. Oh, Michael, we are betrayed, we are betrayed! here be giants! Fly, boy, ily, boy, fly! [Exit with MICHAEL, leaving the casket. 1 There has been a pitchfield, &c. This must relate to some mock fight which was fought at Mile-End, where the train-bands of the city were often exercised.WEBER. 2 white was then a common term of endearment. 3 snick-up or sneck-up-hang himself. 4 gaskins, gascoynes, or galligaskins, generally denoted wide hose, but was also used generally for trousers; the article is supposed to have been introduced from Gas cony. 5 knot-grass was anciently supposed to prevent the growth of a child. that comes near him, an thou lov'st me, George! 'Cit. Peace a little, bird! He shall kill them all, an they were twenty more on 'em than there are.' Enter JASPER. Jasp. Now, Fortune (if thou be'st not only ill), Is my inheritance; a strong revenue! [Spies the casket. What! hath the devil coin'd himself before me? 'Tis metal good: it rings well; I am waking. Wife. I do not like that this unthrifty youth should embezzle away the money; the poor gentlewoman his mother will have a heavy heart for it, God knows. 'Cit. And good reason, sweetheart. Wife. But let him go. I'll tell Ralph a tale in's ear, shall fetch him again with a wannion,' I warrant him, if he be above ground; and besides, George, here are a number of sufficient gentlemen can witness, and myself, and yourself, and the 1 with a wannion-a common proverbial expression, the precise meaning of which has never been explained. Nares thinks it is equivalent to with a rengeance, or with a plague, and to be derived from Anglo-Saxon wakaj detriment, or wanean, to bewall. musicians, if we be call'd in question. But here comes Ralph; George, thou shalt hear him speak an' he were an emperal.' Enter RALPH and GEORGE. Ralph. Comes not Sir Squire again? Your squire doth come, and with, him comes the lady. Enter Mrs. MERRYTHOUGHT, MICHAEL, and TIM. Ralph. Fair! and the Squire of Damsels as I Madam, if any service or devoir [take it! Of a poor errant-knight may right your wrongs, Command it; I am prest1 to give you succour; For to that holy end I bear my armour. Mrs. Mer. Alas, sir, I am a poor gentlewoman, and I have lost my money in this forest. Ralph. Desert, you would say, lady; and not lost Whilst I have sword and lance. Dry up your tears, Which ill befit the beauty of that face, And tell the story, if I may request it, Of your disastrous fortune. Mrs. Mer. Out, alas! I left a thousand pound, a thousand pound, e'en all the money I had laid up for this youth, upon the sight of your mastership, you look'd so grim, and, as I may say it, saving your presence, more like a giant than a mortal man. Ralph. I am as you are, lady; so are they, All mortal. But why weeps this gentle squire? Mrs. Mer. Has he not cause to weep, do you think, when he hath lost his inheritance? Ralph. Young hope of valour, weep not; I am That will confound thy foe, and pay it dear I have but one horse, upon which shall ride [Exeunt. Cit. Did not I tell you, Nell, what your man would do? By the faith of my body, wench, for clean action and good delivery, they may all cast their caps at him. Wife. And so they may, i'faith; for I dare speak it boldly, the twelve companies of London cannot match him, timber for timber. Well, George, an he be not inveigled by some of these paltry players, I ha' much marvel; but, George, we ha' done our parts if the boy have any grace to be thankful. 'Cit. Yes, I warrant thee, duckling.' Enter Master HUMPHREY and LUCE. Hum. Good Mistress Luce, however I in fault 299 Luce. 'Faith, an' you say the word, we'll e'en And take a nap. [sit down, Hum. 'Tis better in the town, And have been ever merry from my dam. Unless it were by chance I did bewray me. Jasp. Luce! dear friend Luce! Jasp. You are mine. Hum. If it be so, my friend, you use me fine; What do you think I am? Jasp. An arrant noddy. Hum. A word of obloquy! Now, by God's body, I'll tell thy master, for I know thee well. Jasp. Nay, an' you be so forward for to tell, Take that, and that; and tell him, sir, I gave it; And say I paid you well. [Beats him. Pray be quiet! Hum. Oh, sir, I have it, And do confess the payment. Jasp. Go, get you to your nightcap, and the To cure your beaten bones. [diet, Luce. Alas, poor Humphrey ! Get thee some wholesome broth, with sage and A little oil of roses, and a feather [cumfry; To 'noint thy back withal. Hum. When I came hither, 'Would I bad gone to Paris with John Dory!1 Luce. Farewell, my pretty nump:2 I'm very I cannot bear thee company. [sorry Hum. Farewell! The devil's dam was ne'er so banged in hell. [Exeunt LUCE and JASPER. Wife. This young Jasper will prove me another things, a' my conscience, an' he may be suffered. George! dost not see, George, how a' swaggers, and flies at the very heads a' folks, as he were a dragon? Well, if I do not do his lesson for wronging this poor gentleman, I am no true woman. His friends that brought him up might have been better occupied, I wis, than have taught him these fegaries. He's e'en in the highway to the gallows, God bless him! Cit. You're too bitter, cony; the young man may do well enough for all this. Wife. Come hither, Master Humphrey. Has he hurt you? Now beshrew his fingers for't! Here, sweetheart, here's some green ginger for thee. Now, beshrew my heart, but a' has pepper-nel in's head, as big as a pullet's egg! Alas, sweet lamb, how thy temples beat! Take the peace on him, sweetheart, take the peace on him. 'Cit. Plot me no plots! I'll ha' Ralph come out: I'll make your house too hot for you else. 'Boy. Why, sir, he shall; but if anything fall out of order, the gentlemen must pardon us. Cit. Go your ways, goodman boy! I'll hold him a penny, he shall have his bellyful of fighting now.-Ho! here comes Ralph! no more!' Enter RALPH, Mrs. MERRYTHOUGHT, MICHAEL, TIM, and GEORGE. Ralph. What knight is that, squire? Ask him The passage, bound by love of lady fair, Hum. Sir, I am no knight, But a poor gentleman that this same night Cit. No more, wife, no more!' a fire-drake? I am afraid my boy's miscarried; if he be, though he were Master Merrythought's son a thousand times, if there be any law in England, I'll make some of them smart for't. Cit. No, no; I have found out the matter, sweetheart; Jasper is enchanted; as sure as we are here, he is enchanted: he could no more have stood in Ralph's hands, than I can stand in my lord-mayor's. I'll have a ring to discover all enchantments, and Ralph shall beat him yet. Be no more vexed, for it shall be so.' ACT II-SCENE III. Before the Bell Inn at Waltham. Enter RALPH, TIM, GEORGE, Mrs. MERRYTHOUGHT, and MICHAEL. Wife. Oh, husband, here's Ralph again! Stay, Ralph, let me speak with thee. How dost thou, Ralph? Art thou not shrewdly hurt? The foul great lungies' laid unmercifully on thee; there's some sugar-candy for thee. Pro Ralph. Where is the caitiff wretch hath done ceed; thou shalt have another bout with him. this deed? Lady, your pardon! that I may proceed And thou, fair squire, repute me not the worse, Hum. Here comes the broker hath purloined Ralph. Go, squire, and tell him I am here, Tim. From the knight that bears Of that bright lady. Jasp. Tell the knight that sent thee He is an ass; and I will keep the wench, And knock his headpiece. Ralph. Knight, thou art but dead, If thou recall not thy uncourteous terms. Jasp. Come, knight, I'm ready for you.-Now helmet Cit. If Ralph had him at the fencing-school, if he did not make a puppy of him, and drive him up and down the school, he should ne'er come in my shop more.' Mrs. Mer. Truly Master Knight of the Burning Pestle, I am weary. Mich. Indeed-la, mother, and I am very hungry. Ralph. Take comfort, gentle dame, and you, For in this desert there must needs be placed I swear by this my order ne'er to leave you. Cit. Yes, duck. Wife. I shall ne'er forget him: when we had lost our child (you know it was strayed almost, alone, to Puddle Wharf, and the criers were abroad for it, and there it had drowned itself, but for a sculler), Ralph was the most comfortablest to me! "Peace, mistress," says he, "let it go! I'll get another as good." Did he not, George, did he not say so? Cit. Yes, indeed did he, mouse.' Geo. I would we had a mess of pottage, and a pot of drink, squire, and were going to bed. Tim. Why, we are at Waltham-town's end, and that's the Bell Inn. Geo. Take courage, valiant knight, damsel I have discovered, not a stone's cast off, 1 lungies-a long, awkward fellow. 2 Where never footman, &c. This alludes to the running footmen, who, like the jockeys, were put upon a 1 prickant-pricking or spurring along on a journey. particular diet; and, in order to prevent cramps, the -WEBER. 2 springald-youth. calves of their legs were greased, and to this the tes refers.-WEBER, |