Part 5
KNOCK. Excellent, excellent, mistress; with fire o' juniper and rosemary branches! the oracle of the pig's head, that, sir.
PURE. Son, were you not warn'd of the vanity of the eye? have you forgot the wholesome admonition so soon?
LIT. Good mother, how shall we find a pig, if we do not look about for't: will it run off o' the spit, into our mouths, think you, as in Lubberland, and cry, _wee, wee!_
BUSY. No, but your mother, religiously-wise, conceiveth it may offer itself by other means to the sense, as by way of steam, which I think it doth here in this place--huh, huh--yes, it doth. [_He scents after it like a hound._] And it were a sin of obstinacy, great obstinacy, high and horrible obstinacy, to decline or resist the good titillation of the famelic sense, which is the smell. Therefore be bold--huh, huh, huh--follow the scent: enter the tents of the unclean, for once, and satisfy your wife's frailty. Let your frail wife be satisfied; your zealous mother, and my suffering self, will also be satisfied.
LIT. Come, Win, as good winny here as go farther, and see nothing.
BUSY. We scape so much of the other vanities, by our early entering.
PURE. It is an edifying consideration.
MRS. LIT. This is scurvy, that we must come into the Fair, and not look on't.
LIT. Win, have patience, Win, I'll tell you more anon.
[_Exeunt, into the booth, Littlewit, Mrs. Littlewit, Busy, and Purecraft._
KNOCK. Mooncalf, entertain within there, the best pig in the booth, a pork-like pig. These are Banbury-bloods, o' the sincere stud, come a pig-hunting. Whit, wait, Whit, look to your charge.
[_Exit Whit._
BUSY. [_within._] A pig prepare presently, let a pig be prepared to us.
_Enter MOONCALF and URSULA._
MOON. 'Slight, who be these?
URS. Is this the good service, Jordan, you'd do me?
KNOCK. Why, Urse, why, Urse? thou'lt have vapours i' thy leg again presently, pray thee go in, it may turn to the scratches else.
URS. Hang your vapours, they are stale, and stink like you! Are these the guests o' the game you promised to fill my pit withal to-day?
KNOCK. Ay, what ail they, Urse?
URS. Ail they! they are all sippers, sippers o' the city; they look as they would not drink off two pen'orth of bottle-ale amongst 'em.
MOON. A body may read that in their small printed ruffs.
KNOCK. Away, thou art a fool, Urse, and thy Mooncalf too: in your ignorant vapours now! hence! good guests, I say, right hypocrites, good gluttons. In, and set a couple o' pigs on the board, and half a dozen of the biggest bottles afore 'em, and call Whit. [_Exit Mooncalf._] I do not love to hear innocents abused; fine ambling hypocrites! and a stone puritan with a sorrel head and beard! good mouth'd gluttons; two to a pig, away.
URS. Are you sure they are such?
KNOCK. O' the right breed, thou shalt try 'em by the teeth, Urse; where's this Whit?
_Re-enter WHIT._
WHIT. _Behold, man, and see, What a worthy man am ee! With the fury of my sword, And the shaking of my beard, I will make ten thousand men afeard._
KNOCK. Well said, brave Whit! in, and _fear_ the ale out o' the bottles into the bellies of the brethren, and . . . the sisters drink to the cause, and pure vapours.
[_Exeunt Knockem, Whit, and Ursula._
QUAR. My roarer is turn'd tapster, methinks. Now were a fine time for thee, Winwife, to lay aboard thy widow, thou'lt never be master of a better season or place; she that will venture herself into the Fair and a pig-box, will admit any assault, be assured of that.
WINW. I love not enterprises of that suddenness though.
QUAR. I'll warrant thee, then, no wife out of the widow's hundred: if I had but as much title to her, as to have breathed once on that straight stomacher of hers, I would now assure myself to carry her, yet, ere she went out of Smithfield; or she should carry me, which were the fitter sight, I confess. But you are a modest undertaker, by circumstances and degrees; come, 'tis disease in thee, not judgment; I should offer at all together.--
_Enter OVERDO._
Look, here's the poor fool again, that was stung by the Waspe erewhile.
OVER. I will make no more orations, shall draw on these tragical conclusions. And I begin now to think, that by a spice of collateral justice, Adam Overdo deserved this beating; for I, the said Adam, was one cause (a by-cause) why the purse was lost; and my wife's brother's purse too, which they know not of yet. But I shall make very good mirth with it at supper, that will be the sport, and put my little friend, master Humphrey Waspe's choler quite out of countenance: when, sitting at the upper end of my table, as I use, and drinking to my brother Cokes, and mistress Alice Overdo, as I will, my wife, for their good affection to old Bradley, I deliver to them, it was I that was cudgeled, and shew them the marks. To see what bad events may peep out o' the tail of good purposes! the care I had of that civil young man I took fancy to this morning, (and have not left it yet,) drew me to that exhortation, which drew the company indeed; which drew the cut-purse; which drew the money; which drew my brother Cokes his loss; which drew on Waspe's anger; which drew on my beating: a pretty gradation! and they shall have it in their dish, i'faith, at night for fruit; I love to be merry at my table. I had thought once, at one special blow he gave me, to have revealed myself; but then (I thank thee, fortitude) I remembered that a wise man, and who is ever so great a part of the commonwealth in himself, for no particular disaster ought to abandon a public good design. The husbandman ought not, for one unthankful year, to forsake the plough; the shepherd ought not, for one scabbed sheep, to throw by his tar-box; the pilot ought not, for one leak in the poop, to quit the helm; nor the alderman ought not, for one custard more at a meal, to give up his cloke; the constable ought not to break his staff, and forswear the watch, for one roaring night; nor the piper of the parish, _ut parvis componere magna solebam_, to put up his pipes for one rainy Sunday. These are certain knocking conclusions; out of which, I am resolved, come what come can, come beating, come imprisonment, come infamy, come banishment, nay, come the rack, come the hurdle, (welcome all,) I will not discover who I am, till my due time; and yet still, all shall be, as I said ever, in justice name, and the king's, and for the commonwealth.
[_Exit Overdo._
WINW. What does he talk to himself, and act so seriously, poor fool!
QUAR. No matter what. Here's fresher argument, intend that.
_Enter COKES, Mistress OVERDO, and GRACE WELLBORN, followed by WASPE, loaded with toys._
COKES. Come, mistress Grace, come, sister, here's more fine sights yet, i'faith. Od's 'lid, where's Numps?
LEATH. What do you lack, gentlemen? what is't you buy? fine rattles, drums, babies, little dogs, and birds for ladies? what do you lack?
COKES. Good honest Numps, keep afore, I am so afraid thou'lt lose somewhat; my heart was at my mouth, when I mist thee.
WASPE. You were best buy a whip in your hand to drive me.
COKES. Nay, do not mistake, Numps; thou art so apt to mistake! I would but watch the goods. Look you now, the treble fiddle was e'en almost like to be lost.
WASPE. Pray you take heed you lose not yourself; your best way were e'en get up and ride for more surety. Buy a token's worth of great pins, to fasten yourself to my shoulder.
LEATH. What do you lack, gentlemen? fine purses, pouches, pincases, pipes? what is't you lack? a pair o' smiths to wake you in the morning? or a fine whistling bird?
COKES. Numps, here be finer things than any we have bought by odds! and more delicate horses, a great deal; good Numps, stay, and come hither.
WASPE. Will you scourse with him? you are in Smithfield, you may fit yourself with a fine easy-going street-nag, for your saddle, again Michaelmas term, do: has he ne'er a little odd cart for you to make a caroch on, in the country, with four pied hobby-horses? Why the measles should you stand here, with your train, cheapning of dogs, birds, and babies? you have no children to bestow them on, have you?
COKES. No, but again I have children, Numps, that's all one.
WASPE. Do, do, do, do; how many shall you have, think you? an I were as you, I'd buy for all my tenants too, they are a kind of civil savages, that will part with their children for rattles, pipes, and knives. You were best buy a hatchet or two, and truck with 'em.
COKES. Good Numps, hold that little tongue o' thine, and save it a labour. I am resolute Bat, thou know'st.
WASPE. A resolute fool you are, I know, and a very sufficient coxcomb; with all my heart;--nay, you have it, sir, an you be angry, turd in your teeth, twice; if I said it not once afore, and much good do you.
WINW. Was there ever such a self-affliction, and so impertinent?
QUAR. Alas, his care will go near to crack him; let's in and comfort him.
[_They come forward._
WASPE. Would I had been set in the ground, all but the head on me, and had my brains bowled at, or threshed out, when first I underwent this plague of a charge!
QUAR. How now, Numps! almost tired in your protectorship? overparted, overparted?
WASPE. Why, I cannot tell, sir, it may be I am; does it grieve you?
QUAR. No, I swear does't not, Numps; to satisfy you.
WASPE. Numps! 'sblood, you are fine and familiar: how long have we been acquainted, I pray you?
QUAR. I think it may be remembered, Numps, that; 'twas since morning, sure.
WASPE. Why, I hope I know't well enough, sir; I did not ask to be told.
QUAR. No! why, then?
WASPE. It's no matter why; you see with your eyes now, what I said to you to-day: you'll believe me another time?
QUAR. Are you removing the Fair, Numps?
WASPE. A pretty question, and a civil one! yes faith, I have my lading, you see, or shall have anon; you may know whose beast I am by my burden. If the pannier-man's jack were ever better known by his loins of mutton, I'll be flayed, and feed dogs for him when his time comes.
WINW. How melancholic mistress Grace is yonder! pray thee let's go enter ourselves in grace with her.
COKES. Those six horses, friend, I'll have--
WASPE. How!
COKES. And the three Jew's-trumps; and half a dozen o' birds, and that drum, (I have one drum already) and your smiths; I like that device of your smiths, very pretty well; and four halberts--and, let me see, that fine painted great lady, and her three women for state, I'll have.
WASPE. No, the shop; buy the whole shop, it will be best, the shop, the shop!
LEATH. If his worship please.
WASPE. Yes, and keep it during the Fair, Bobchin.
COKES. Peace, Numps.--Friend, do not meddle with him, an you be wise, and would shew your head above board; he will sting thorough your wrought night-cap, believe me. A set of these violins I would buy too, for a delicate young noise I have in the country, that are every one a size less than another, just like your fiddles. I would fain have a fine young masque at my marriage, now I think on't: But I do want such a number of things!--And Numps will not help me now, and I dare not speak to him.
TRASH. Will your worship buy any gingerbread, very good bread, comfortable bread?
COKES. Gingerbread! yes, let's see.
[_Runs to her shop._
WASPE. There's the t'other springe.
LEATH. Is this well, goody Joan, to interrupt my market in the midst, and call away my customers? can you answer this at the Pie-poudres?
TRASH. Why, if his mastership has a mind to buy, I hope my ware lies as open as another's; I may shew my ware as well as you yours.
COKES. Hold your peace; I'll content you both: I'll buy up his shop, and thy basket.
WASPE. Will you, i'faith?
LEATH. Why should you put him from it, friend?
WASPE. Cry you mercy! you'd be sold too, would you? what's the price on you, jerkin and all, as you stand? have you any qualities?
TRASH. Yes, good man, angry-man, you shall find he has qualities if you cheapen him.
WASPE. Od's so, you have the selling of him! What are they, will they be bought for love or money?
TRASH. No indeed, sir.
WASPE. For what then, victuals?
TRASH. He scorns victuals, sir; he has bread and butter at home, thanks be to God! and yet he will do more for a good meal, if the toy take him in the belly; marry then they must not set him at lower ends, if they do, he'll go away, though he fast; but put him a-top o' the table, where his place is, and he'll do you forty fine things. He has not been sent for, and sought out for nothing, at your great city-suppers, to put down Coriat and Cokely, and been laughed at for his labour; he'll play you all the puppets in the town over, and the players, every company, and his own company too; he spares nobody.
COKES. I'faith?
TRASH. He was the first, sir, that ever baited the fellow in the bear's skin, an't like your worship: no dog ever came near him since. And for fine motions!
COKES. Is he good at those too? can he set out a masque, trow?
TRASH. O lord, master! sought to far and near for his inventions; and he engrosses all, he makes all the puppets in the Fair.
COKES. Dost thou, in troth, old velvet jerkin? give me thy hand.
TRASH. Nay, sir, you shall see him in his velvet jerkin, and a scarf too at night, when you hear him interpret master Littlewit's motion.
COKES. Speak no more, but shut up shop presently, friend, I'll buy both it and thee too, to carry down with me; and her hamper beside. Thy shop shall furnish out the masque, and her's the banquet: I cannot go less, to set out any thing with credit. What's the price, at a word, of thy whole shop, case and all as it stands?
LEATH. Sir, it stands me in six and twenty shillings seven-pence halfpenny, besides three shillings for my ground.
COKES. Well, thirty shillings will do all, then! and what comes yours to?
TRASH. Four shillings and eleven-pence, sir, ground and all, an't like your worship.
COKES. Yes, it does like my worship very well, poor woman; that's five shillings more: what a masque shall I furnish out, for forty shillings, twenty pound Scotch, and a banquet of gingerbread! there's a stately thing! Numps? sister?--and my wedding gloves too! that I never thought on afore! All my wedding gloves gingerbread? O me! what a device will there be, to make 'em eat their fingers' ends! and delicate brooches for the bridemen and all! and then I'll have this poesie put to them, _For the best grace_, meaning mistress Grace, my wedding poesie.
GRACE. I am beholden to you, sir, and to your Bartholomew wit.
WASPE. You do not mean this, do you? Is this your first purchase?
COKES. Yes, faith: and I do not think, Numps, but thou'lt say, it was the wisest act that ever I did in my wardship.
WASPE. Like enough! I shall say any thing, I!
_Enter EDGWORTH, NIGHTINGALE and People, followed, at a distance, by OVERDO._
OVER. I cannot beget a project, with all my political brain yet: my project is how to fetch off this proper young man from his debauched company. I have followed him all the Fair over, and still I find him with this songster, and I begin shrewdly to suspect their familiarity; and the young man of a terrible taint, poetry! with which idle disease if he be infected, there's no hope of him, in a state-course. _Actum est_ of him for a commonwealth's-man, if he go to't in rhyme once. [_Aside._
EDG. [_to Nightingale._] Yonder he is buying of gingerbread; set in quickly, before he part with too much of his money.
NIGHT. [advancing and singing.] _My masters, and friends, and good people, draw near--_
COKES. [_runs to the ballad-man._] Ballads! hark! hark! pray thee, fellow, stay a little; good Numps, look to the goods. What ballads hast thou? let me see, let me see myself.
WASPE. Why so! he's flown to another lime-bush, there he will flutter as long more; till he have ne'er a feather left. Is there a vexation like this, gentlemen? will you believe me now, hereafter, shall I have credit with you?
QUAR. Yes, faith shalt thou, Numps, and thou art worthy on't, for thou sweatest for't. I never saw a young pimp-errant and his squire better match'd.
WINW. Faith, the sister comes after them well too.
GRACE. Nay, if you saw the justice her husband, my guardian, you were fitted for the mess, he is such a wise one his way--
WINW. I wonder we see him not here.
GRACE. O! he is too serious for this place, and yet better sport then than the other three, I assure you, gentlemen, wherever he is, though it be on the bench.
COKES. How dost thou call it? _A caveat against cut-purses!_ a good jest, i'faith, I would fain see that demon, your cut-purse you talk of, that delicate-handed devil; they say he walks hereabout; I would see him walk now. Look you, sister, here, here [_he shews his purse boastingly_], let him come, sister, and welcome. Ballad-man, does any cut-purses haunt hereabout? pray thee raise me one or two; begin, and shew me one.
NIGHT. Sir, this is a spell against them, spick and span new; and 'tis made as 'twere in mine own person, and I sing it in mine own defence. But 'twill cost a penny alone, if you buy it.
COKES. No matter for the price; thou dost not know me, I see, I am an odd Bartholomew.
MRS. OVER. Has it a fine picture, brother?
COKES. O, sister, do you remember the ballads over the nursery chimney at home o' my own pasting up? there be brave pictures, other manner of pictures than these, friend.
WASPE. Yet these will serve to pick the pictures out of your pockets, you shall see.
COKES. So I heard them say! Pray thee mind him not, fellow; he'll have an oar in every thing.
NIGHT. It was intended, sir, as if a purse should chance to be cut in my presence, now, I may be blameless though; as by the sequel will more plainly appear.
COKES. We shall find that in the matter: pray thee begin.
NIGHT. To the tune of Paggington's pound, sir.
COKES. [sings.] _Fa, la la la, la la la, fa, la la la!_ Nay, I'll put thee in tune and all; mine own country dance! Pray thee begin.
NIGHT. It is a gentle admonition, you must know, sir, both to the purse-cutter and the purse-bearer.
COKES. Not a word more out of the tune, an thou lov'st me; _Fa, la la la, la la la, fa, la la la._ Come, when?
NIGHT. [sings.] _My masters, and friends, and good people, draw near, And look to your purses, for that I do say;_
COKES. Ha, ha, this chimes! Good counsel at first dash.
NIGHT. _And tho' little money in them you do bear, It costs more to get, than to lose in a day._
COKES. Good!
NIGHT. _You oft have been told, Both the young and the old, And bidden beware of the cut-purse so bold;_
COKES. Well said! he were to blame that would not, i'faith.
NIGHT. _Then if you take heed not, free me from the curse, Who both give you warning, for, and the cut-purse. Youth, youth, thou had'st better been starved by thy nurse, Than live to be hanged for cutting a purse._
COKES. Good, i'faith; how say you, Numps, is there any harm in this?
NIGHT. _It hath been upbraided to men of my trade, That oftentimes we are the cause of this crime;_
COKES. The more coxcombs they that did it, I wusse.
NIGHT. _Alack and for pity, why should it be said? As if they regarded or places or time! Examples have been Of some that were seen In Westminster-hall, yea the pleaders between; Then why should the judges be free from this curse, More than my poor self, for cutting the purse?_
COKES. God a mercy for that! why should they be more free indeed?
NIGHT. _Youth, youth, thou had'st better been starved by thy nurse, Than live to be hanged for cutting a purse._
COKES. That again, good ballad-man, that again. [_He sings the burden with him._] O rare! I would fain rub mine elbow now, but I dare not pull out my hand.--On, I pray thee; he that made this ballad shall be poet to my masque.
NIGHT. _At Worc'ster, 'tis known well, and even in the jail, A knight of good worship did there shew his face, Against the foul sinners, in zeal for to rail, And lost _ipso facto_ his purse in the place._
COKES. Is it possible?
NIGHT. _Nay, once from the seat Of judgment so great, A judge there did lose a fair pouch of velvéte._
COKES. I'faith?
NIGHT. _O Lord for thy mercy, how wicked or worse, Are those that so venture their necks for a purse! Youth, youth, thou had'st better been starv'd by thy nurse, Than lived to be hanged for cutting a purse._
COKES. [sings after him.] _Youth, youth, etc._--Pray thee, stay a little, friend. Yet o' thy conscience, Numps, speak, is there any harm in this?
WASPE. To tell you true, 'tis too good for you, less you had grace to follow it.
OVER. It doth discover enormity, I'll mark it more: I have not liked a paltry piece of poetry so well a good while. [_Aside._
COKES. _Youth, youth, etc.;_ where's this youth now? a man must call upon him for his own good, and yet he will not appear. Look here, here's for him; [_shews his purse._] handy dandy, which hand will he have? On, I pray thee, with the rest; I do hear of him, but I cannot see him, this master youth, the cut-purse.
NIGHT. _At plays, and at sermons, and at the sessions, 'Tis daily their practice such booty to make. Yea under the gallows at executions, They stick not the stare-abouts' purses to take. Nay one without grace, At a [far] better place, At court, and in Christmas, before the king's face._
COKES. That was a fine fellow! I would have him now.
NIGHT. _Alack then for pity must I bear the curse, That only belongs to the cunning cut-purse?_
COKES. But where's their cunning now, when they should use it? they are all chain'd now, I warrant you. [_Sings._] _Youth, youth, thou had'st better_--The rat-catchers' charms are all fools and asses to this: a pox on them, that they will not come! that a man should have such a desire to a thing, and want it!