Part 8

WHIT. Stay, Bristle, here ish anoder brash of drunkards, but very quiet, special drunkards, will pay de five shillings very well. [_Points to Northern and Puppy, drunk, and asleep, on the bench._] Take 'em to de, in de graish o' God: one of hem do's change cloth for ale in the Fair, here; te toder ish a strong man, a mighty man, my lord mayor's man, and a wrastler. He has wrashled so long with the bottle here, that the man with the beard hash almosht streek up hish heelsh.

BRI. 'Slid, the clerk o' the market has been to cry him all the Fair over here, for my lord's service.

WHIT. Tere he ish, pre de taik him hensh, and make ty best on him. [_Exeunt Bristle and the rest of the Watch with Northern and Puppy._]--How now, woman o' shilk, vat ailsh ty shweet faish? art tou melancholy?

MRS. OVER. A little distempered with these enormities. Shall I entreat a courtesy of you, captain?

WHIT. Entreat a hundred, velvet voman, I vill do it, shpeak out.

MRS. OVER. I cannot with modesty speak it out, but--

[_Whispers him._

WHIT. I vill do it, and more and more, for de. What Ursla, an't be bitch, an't be bawd, an't be!

_Enter URSULA._

URS. How now, rascal! what roar you for, old pimp?

WHIT. Here, put up de clokes, Ursh; de purchase. Pre de now, shweet Ursh, help dis good brave voman to a jordan, an't be.

URS. 'Slid call your captain Jordan to her, can you not?

WHIT. Nay, pre de leave dy consheits, and bring the velvet woman to de--

URS. I bring her! hang her: heart, must I find a common pot for every punk in your purlieus?

WHIT. O good voordsh, Ursh, it ish a guest o' velvet, i'fait la.

URS. Let her sell her hood, and buy a spunge, with a pox to her! my vessel is employed, sir. I have but one, and 'tis the bottom of an old bottle. An honest proctor and his wife are at it within; if she'll stay her time, so.

[_Exit._

WHIT. As soon as tou cansht, shweet Ursh. Of a valiant man I tink I am te patientsh man i' the world, or in all Smithfield.

_Re-enter KNOCKEM._

KNOCK. How now, Whit! close vapours, stealing your leaps! covering in corners, ha!

WHIT. No, fait, captain, dough tou beesht a vishe man, dy vit is a mile hence now. I vas procuring a shmall courtesie for a woman of fashion here.

MRS. OVER. Yes, captain, though I am a justice of peace's wife, I do love men of war, and the sons of the sword, when they come before my husband.

KNOCK. Say'st thou so, filly? thou shalt have a leap presently, I'll horse thee myself, else.

URS. [_within._] Come, will you bring her in now, and let her take her turn?

WHIT. Gramercy, good Ursh, I tank de.

MRS. OVER. Master Overdo shall thank her.

[_Exit._

_Re-enter URSULA, followed by LITTLEWIT, and MRS. LITTLEWIT._

LIT. Good ga'mere Urse, Win and I are exceedingly beholden to you, and to captain Jordan, and captain Whit.--Win, I'll be bold to leave you, in this good company, Win; for half an hour or so, Win; while I go and see how my matter goes forward, and if the puppets be perfect; and then I'll come and fetch you, Win.

MRS. LIT. Will you leave me alone with two men, John?

LIT. Ay, they are honest gentlemen, Win, captain Jordan and captain Whit; they'll use you very civilly, Win. God be wi' you, Win.

[_Exit._

URS. What, is her husband gone?

KNOCK. On his false gallop, Urse, away.

URS. An you be right Bartholomew birds, now show yourselves so: we are undone for want of fowl in the Fair, here. Here will be Zekiel Edgworth, and three or four gallants with him at night, and I have neither plover nor quail for them: persuade this between you two, to become a bird o' the game, while I work the velvet woman within, as you call her.

KNOCK. I conceive thee, Urse: go thy ways. [_Exit Ursula._]--Dost thou hear, Whit? is't not pity, my delicate dark chestnut here, with the fine lean head, large forehead, round eyes, even mouth, sharp ears, long neck, thin crest, close withers, plain back, deep sides, short fillets, and full flanks; with a round belly, a plump buttock, large thighs, knit knees, strait legs, short pasterns, smooth hoofs, and short heels, should lead a dull honest woman's life, that might live the life of a lady?

WHIT. Yes, by my fait and trot it is, captain; de honest woman's life is a scurvy dull life indeed, la.

MRS. LIT. How, sir, is an honest woman's life a scurvy life?

WHIT. Yes fait, shweet-heart, believe him, de leef of a bond-woman! but if dou vilt hearken to me, I vill make tee a free woman and a lady; dou shalt live like a lady, as te captain saish.

KNOCK. Ay, and be honest too sometimes; have her wires and her tires, her green gowns and velvet petticoats.

WHIT. Ay, and ride to Ware and Rumford in dy coash, shee de players, be in love vit 'em: sup vit gallantsh, be drunk, and cost de noting.

KNOCK. Brave vapours!

WHIT. And lie by twenty on 'em, if dou pleash, shweet-heart.

MRS. LIT. What, and be honest still! that were fine sport.

WHIT. Tish common, shweet-heart, tou may'st do it by my hand: it shall be justified to thy husband's faish, now: tou shalt be as honesht as the skin between his hornsh, la.

KNOCK. Yes, and wear a dressing, top and top-gallant, to compare with e'er a husband on 'em all, for a foretop: it is the vapour of spirit in the wife to cuckold now a days, as it is the vapour of fashion in the husband not to suspect. Your prying cat-eyed citizen is an abominable vapour.

MRS. LIT. Lord, what a fool have I been!

WHIT. Mend then, and do every ting like a lady hereafter; never know ty husband from another man.

KNOCK. Nor any one man from another, but in the dark.

WHIT. Ay, and then it ish no disgrash to know any man.

URS. [_within._] Help, help here!

KNOCK. How now? what vapour's there?

_Re-enter URSULA._

URS. O, you are a sweet ranger, and look well to your walks! Yonder is your punk of Turnbull, ramping Alice, has fallen upon the poor gentlewoman within, and pull'd her hood over her ears, and her hair through it.

_Enter ALICE, beating and driving in MRS. OVERDO._

MRS. OVER. Help, help, in the king's name!

ALICE. A mischief on you, they are such as you are that undo us and take our trade from us, with your tuft-taffata haunches.

KNOCK. How now, Alice!

ALICE. The poor common whores can have no traffic for the privy rich ones; your caps and hoods of velvet call away our customers, and lick the fat from us.

URS. Peace, you foul ramping jade, you--

ALICE. Od's foot, you bawd in grease, are you talking?

KNOCK. Why, Alice, I say.

ALICE. Thou sow of Smithfield, thou!

URS. Thou tripe of Turnbull!

KNOCK. Cat-a-mountain vapours, ha!

URS. You know where you were taw'd lately; both lash'd and slash'd you were in Bridewell.

ALICE. Ay, by the same token you rid that week, and broke out the bottom of the cart, night-tub.

KNOCK. Why, lion face, ha! do you know who I am? shall I tear ruff, slit waistcoat, make rags of petticoat, ha! go to, vanish for fear of vapours. Whit, a kick, Whit, in the parting vapour. [_They kick out Alice._] Come, brave woman, take a good heart, thou shalt be a lady too.

WHIT. Yes fait, dey shall all both be ladies, and write madam: I vill do't myself for dem. Do is the word, and D is the middle letter of madam, D D, put 'em together, and make deeds, without which all words are alike, la.

KNOCK. 'Tis true: Ursula, take them in, open thy wardrobe, and fit them to their calling. Green gowns, crimson petticoats, green women, my lord mayor's green women! guests o' the game, true bred. I'll provide you a coach to take the air in.

MRS. LIT. But do you think you can get one?

KNOCK. O, they are common as wheelbarrows where there are great dunghills. Every pettifogger's wife has 'em; for first he buys a coach that he may marry, and then he marries that he may be made cuckold in't: for if their wives ride not to their cuckolding, they do them no credit. [_Exeunt Ursula, Mrs. Littlewit, and Mrs. Overdo._]--_Hide, and be hidden, ride and be ridden,_ says the vapour of experience.

_Enter TROUBLEALL._

TRO. By what warrant does it say so?

KNOCK. Ha, mad child o' the Pie-poudres! art thou there? fill us a fresh can, Urse, we may drink together.

TRO. I may not drink without a warrant, captain.

KNOCK. 'Slood, thou'lt not stale without a warrant shortly. Whit, give me pen, ink, and paper, I'll draw him a warrant presently.

TRO. It must be justice Overdo's.

KNOCK. I know, man; fetch the drink, Whit.

WHIT. I pre dee now, be very brief, captain, for de new ladies stay for dee.

[_Exit, and re-enters with a can._

KNOCK. O, as brief as can be, here 'tis already. [_Gives Troubleall a paper._] Adam Overdo.

TRO. Why now I'll pledge you, captain.

KNOCK. Drink it off, I'll come to thee anon again.

[_Exeunt._

## SCENE IV.--_The back of URSULA'S Booth._

OVERDO in the stocks. People, etc.

_Enter QUARLOUS with the license, and EDGWORTH._

QUAR. Well, sir, you are now discharged; beware of being spied hereafter.

EDG. Sir, will it please you, enter in here at Ursula's, and take part of a silken gown, a velvet petticoat, or a wrought smock; I am promised such, and I can spare a gentleman a moiety.

QUAR. Keep it for your companions in beastliness, I am none of them, sir. If I had not already forgiven you a greater trespass, or thought you yet worth my beating, I would instruct your manners, to whom you made your offers. But go your ways, talk not to me, the hangman is only fit to discourse with you; the hand of beadle is too merciful a punishment for your trade of life. [_Exit Edgworth._]--I am sorry I employ'd this fellow, for he thinks me such; _facinus quos inquinat, æquat._ But it was for sport; and would I make it serious, the getting of this license is nothing to me, without other circumstances concur. I do think how impertinently I labour, if the word be not mine that the ragged fellow mark'd: and what advantage I have given Ned Winwife in this time now of working her, though it be mine. He'll go near to form to her what a debauched rascal I am, and fright her out of all good conceit of me: I should do so by him, I am sure, if I had the opportunity. But my hope is in her temper yet; and it must needs be next to despair, that is grounded on any part of a woman's discretion. I would give, by my troth now, all I could spare, to my clothes and my sword, to meet my tatter'd soothsayer again, who was my judge in the question, to know certainly whose word he has damn'd or saved; for till then I live but under a reprieve. I must seek him. Who be these?

_Enter BRISTLE and some of the Watch, with WASPE._

WASPE. Sir, you are a Welsh cuckold, and a prating runt, and no constable.

BRI. You say very well.--Come, put in his leg in the middle roundel, and let him hole there.

[_They put him in the stocks._

WASPE. You stink of leeks, metheglin, and cheese, you rogue.

BRI. Why, what is that to you, if you sit sweetly in the stocks in the mean time? if you have a mind to stink too, your breeches sit close enough to your bum. Sit you merry, sir.

QUAR. How now, Numps?

WASPE. It is no matter how; pray you look off.

QUAR. Nay, I'll not offend you, Numps; I thought you had sat there to be seen.

WASPE. And to be sold, did you not? pray you mind your business, an you have any.

QUAR. Cry you mercy, Numps; does your leg lie high enough?

_Enter HAGGISE._

BRI. How now, neighbour Haggise, what says justice Overdo's worship to the other offenders?

HAG. Why, he says just nothing; what should he say, or where should he say? He is not to be found, man; he has not been seen in the Fair here all this live-long day, never since seven a clock i' the morning. His clerks know not what to think on't. There is no court of Pie-poudres yet. Here they be return'd.

_Enter others of the Watch with BUSY._

BRI. What shall be done with them, then, in your discretion?

HAG. I think we were best put them in the stocks in discretion (there they will be safe in discretion) for the valour of an hour, or such a thing, till his worship come.

BRI. It is but a hole matter if we do, neighbour Haggise; come, sir, [_to Waspe._] here is company for you; heave up the stocks.

[_As they open the stocks, Waspe puts his shoe on his hand, and slips it in for his leg._

WASPE. I shall put a trick upon your Welsh diligence perhaps. [_Aside._

BRI. Put in your leg, sir. [_To Busy._

QUAR. What, rabbi Busy! is he come?

BUSY. I do obey thee; the lion may roar, but he cannot bite. I am glad to be thus separated from the heathen of the land, and put apart in the stocks, for the holy cause.

WASPE. What are you, sir?

BUSY. One that rejoiceth in his affliction, and sitteth here to prophesy the destruction of fairs and May-games, wakes and Whitson-ales, and doth sigh and groan for the reformation of these abuses.

WASPE. [_to Overdo._] And do you sigh and groan too, or rejoice in your affliction?

OVER. I do not feel it, I do not think of it, it is a thing without me: Adam, thou art above these batteries, these contumelies. _In te manca ruit fortuna_, as thy friend Horace says; thou art one, _Quem neque pauperies, neque mors, neque vincula, terrent._ And therefore, as another friend of thine says, I think it be thy friend Persius, _Non te quæsiveris extra._

QUAR. What's here! a stoic in the stocks? the fool is turn'd philosopher.

BUSY. Friend, I will leave to communicate my spirit with you, if I hear any more of those superstitious relics, those lists of Latin, the very rags of Rome, and patches of popery.

WASPE. Nay, an you begin to quarrel, gentlemen, I'll leave you. I have paid for quarrelling too lately: look you, a device, but shifting in a hand for a foot. God be wi' you.

[_Slips out his hand._

BUSY. Wilt thou then leave thy brethren in tribulation?

WASPE. For this once, sir.

[_Exit, running._

BUSY. Thou art a halting neutral; stay him there, stop him, that will not endure the heat of persecution.

BRI. How now, what's the matter?

BUSY. He is fled, he is fled, and dares not sit it out.

BRI. What, has he made an escape! which way? follow, neighbour Haggise.

[_Exeunt Haggise and Watch._

_Enter DAME PURECRAFT._

PURE. O me, in the stocks! have the wicked prevail'd?

BUSY. Peace, religious sister, it is my calling, comfort yourself; an extraordinary calling, and done for my better standing, my surer standing, hereafter.

_Enter TROUBLEALL, with a can._

TRO. By whose warrant, by whose warrant, this?

QUAR. O, here's my man dropt in I look'd for.

OVER. Ha!

PURE. O, good sir, they have set the faithful here to be wonder'd at; and provided holes for the holy of the land.

TRO. Had they warrant for it? shew'd they justice Overdo's hand? if they had no warrant, they shall answer it.

_Re-enter HAGGISE._

BRI. Sure you did not lock the stocks sufficiently, neighbour Toby.

HAG. No! see if you can lock them better.

BRI. They are very sufficiently lock'd, and truly; yet something is in the matter.

TRO. True, your warrant is the matter that is in question; by what warrant?

BRI. Madman, hold your peace, I will put you in his room else in the very same hold, do you see?

QUAR. How, is he a madman?

TRO. Shew me justice Overdo's warrant, I obey you.

HAG. You are a mad fool, hold your tongue.

[_Exeunt Haggise and Bristle._

TRO. In justice Overdo's name, I drink to you, and here's my warrant.

[_Shews his can._

OVER. Alas, poor wretch! how it yearns my heart for him! [_Aside._

QUAR. If he be mad, it is in vain to question him. I'll try him though.--Friend, there was a gentlewoman shew'd you two names some hours since, Argalus and Palemon, to mark in a book; which of them was it you mark'd?

TRO. I mark no name but Adam Overdo, that is the name of names, he only is the sufficient magistrate; and that name I reverence, shew it me.

QUAR. This fellow's mad indeed: I am further off now than afore.

OVER. I shall not breathe in peace till I have made him some amends. [_Aside._

QUAR. Well, I will make another use of him is come in my head: I have a nest of beards in my trunk, one something like his.

_Re-enter BRISTLE and HAGGISE._

BRI. This mad fool has made me that I know not whether I have lock'd the stocks or no; I think I lock'd them.

[_Tries the locks._

TRO. Take Adam Overdo in your mind, and fear nothing.

BRI. 'Slid, madness itself! hold thy peace, and take that.

[_Strikes him._

TRO. Strikest thou without a warrant? take thou that.

[_They fight, and leave open the stocks in the scuffle._

BUSY. We are delivered by miracle; fellow in fetters, let us not refuse the means; this madness was of the spirit: the malice of the enemy hath mock'd itself.

[_Exeunt Busy and Overdo._

PURE. Mad do they call him! the world is mad in error, but he is mad in truth: I love him o' the sudden (the cunning man said all true) and shall love him more and more. How well it becomes a man to be mad in truth! O, that I might be his yoke-fellow, and be mad with him, what a many should we draw to madness in truth with us!

[_Exit._

BRI. How now, all 'scaped! where's the woman? it is witchcraft! her velvet hat is a witch, o' my conscience, or my key! the one.--The madman was a devil, and I am an ass; so bless me, my place, and mine office!

[_Exeunt, affrighted._

## ACT V

## SCENE I.--_The Fair, as before._

A Booth.

_LANTHORN LEATHERHEAD, dressed as a puppet-show man, FILCHER, and SHARKWELL with a flag._

LEATH. Well, luck and Saint Bartholomew! out with the sign of our invention, in the name of wit, and do you beat the drum the while: all the foul i' the Fair, I mean all the dirt in Smithfield,--that's one of master Littlewit's carwhitchets now--will be thrown at our banner to-day, if the matter does not please the people. O the motions that I Lanthorn Leatherhead have given light to, in my time, since my master Pod died! Jerusalem was a stately thing, and so was Nineveh, and the city of Norwich, and Sodom and Gomorrah, with the rising of the prentices, and pulling down the bawdy-houses there upon Shrove-Tuesday; but the Gun-powder plot, there was a get-penny! I have presented that to an eighteen or twenty pence audience, nine times in an afternoon. Your home-born projects prove ever the best, they are so easy and familiar; they put too much learning in their things now o' days: and that I fear will be the spoil of this. Littlewit! I say, Micklewit! if not too mickle! look to your gathering there, goodman Filcher.

FILCH. I warrant you, sir.

LEATH. An there come any gentlefolks, take two-pence apiece, Sharkwell.

SHARK. I warrant you, sir, three-pence an we can.

[_Exeunt._

## SCENE II.--_Another part of the Fair._

_Enter OVERDO, disguised like a Porter._

OVER. This latter disguise, I have borrow'd of a porter, shall carry me out to all my great and good ends; which however interrupted, were never destroyed in me: neither is the hour of my severity yet come to reveal myself, wherein, cloud-like, I will break out in rain and hail, lightning and thunder, upon the head of enormity. Two main works I have to prosecute: first, one is to invent some satisfaction for the poor kind wretch, who is out of his wits for my sake, and yonder I see him coming, I will walk aside, and project for it.

_Enter WINWIFE and GRACE._

WINW. I wonder where Tom Quarlous is, that he returns not: it may be he is struck in here to seek us.

GRACE. See, here's our madman again.

_Enter QUARLOUS, in TROUBLEALL'S clothes, followed by DAME PURECRAFT._

QUAR. I have made myself as like him, as his gown and cap will give me leave.

PURE. Sir, I love you, and would be glad to be mad with you in truth.

WINW. How! my widow in love with a madman?

PURE. Verily, I can be as mad in spirit as you.

QUAR. By whose warrant? leave your canting. Gentlewoman, have I found you? [_To mistress Grace._] save ye, quit ye, and multiply ye! Where's your book? 'twas a sufficient name I mark'd, let me see't, be not afraid to shew't me.

GRACE. What would you with it, sir?

QUAR. Mark it again and again at your service.

GRACE. Here it is, sir, this was it you mark'd.

QUAR. _Palemon!_ fare you well, fare you well.

WINW. How, Palemon!

GRACE. Yes, faith, he has discovered it to you now, and therefore 'twere vain to disguise it longer; I am yours, sir, by the benefit of your fortune.

WINW. And you have him, mistress, believe it, that shall never give you cause to repent her benefit: but make you rather to think that in this choice she had both her eyes.

GRACE. I desire to put it to no danger of protestation.

[_Exeunt Grace and Winwife._

QUAR. Palemon the word, and Winwife the man!

PURE. Good sir, vouchsafe a yoke-fellow in your madness, shun not one of the sanctified sisters, that would draw with you in truth.

QUAR. Away, you are a herd of hypocritical proud ignorants, rather wild than mad; fitter for woods, and the society of beasts, than houses, and the congregation of men. You are the second part of the society of canters, outlaws to order and discipline, and the only privileged church-robbers of Christendom. Let me alone: _Palemon_ the word, and Winwife the man!