Part 18
[328] The 4o of 1636 has it _If I spend_, which was followed by Mr Reed, but the first 4o of 1611 gives the true reading, _If I speed_.--_Collier_.
[329] Meaning Constantia, so disguised.--_Collier._
[330] See note to "The Antiquary," act iv. sc. I (vol. 13.)
[331] See note at p. 277 _suprá_.
[332] [Old copies, _man's_.]
[333] [Edits., _and much_. This seems to have been introduced as a playful allusion by Widow Taffata to herself], unless these words should be given to Adriana.
[334] [Edits., _five_.]
[335] [This part of the dialogue is conducted by Adriana and Taffata above, while the other persons enter and converse below.]
[336] Bring it back.
[337] _i.e._, Puppet-shows. See note to "The Antiquary," act i. sc. I (vol. 13.)
[338] [Properly the stick to hold the gunner's match; but here the meaning is _figurative_.]
[339] _i.e._, Whip thee.
[340] Tiresias, the blind prophet of Thebes. Sec "The OEdipus" of Sophocles, and that of Dryden and Lee.
[341] [Edits., '_Tis_.]
[342] Absolutely. So in "The Honest Man's Fortune," by Beaumont and Fletcher--
"I am as happy In my friend's good, as if 'twere _merely_ mine."
[343] Perhaps we ought to read _Now he returns_, and not _Now he retires_; but both the old copies are uniform in favour of _retires_.--_Collier_. [_Retire_ may be right, as it is justifiable to interpret it in its original sense of draw back, in which it is almost equivalent to _return_.]
[344] [Old copies, _a power_.]
[345] Barry uses this word _garboils_ in a sense to which it was not usually applied. The Rev. Mr Todd, in his edition of Dr Johnson's Dictionary, says, "Bishop Hall has rendered Virgil's _arma_, _i.e._, _battles_, by the word _garboil_." This is a mistake, for Hall is laughing at Stanihurst for having so done in his attempted _hexameter_ translation of the Æneid--
"Give me the number'd verse that Virgil sung, And Virgil's self shall speak the English tongue; Manhood and _garboiles_ shall he chaunt with changed feet," &c.
--B. i. sat. 6.
But there are many authorities besides Shakespeare, in his "Antony and Cleopatra," for its employment. Gascoigne inserts it in the speech of Hercules in the "Princely Pleasures of Kenilworth": "A _garboyel_ this in deede," ["Works" by Hazlitt, ii. 93]. Drayton also uses it in [his "Mortimeriados," 1596,] quoted in "England's Parnassus," p. 444--
"Such is the _garboyle_ of this conflict then; Brave Englishmen encountering Englishmen."
and T. Heywood, in his "Rape of Lucrece," 1608, talks of "the head of all these garboyles, the chief actor of that black sin," &c.--_Collier._
[346] [Ride, perhaps a form of _prick_.]
[347] Formerly printed _studient_, and for the measure it must be read so.--_Collier._ [The form _studient_ is legitimate, though uncommon, and has been restored.]
[348] [This form of address was borrowed from the university.]
[349] _i.e._, Subtleties. So in "Every Woman in her Humour," 1609, sig. H 4: "He has his pols and his oedypols, his times and his tricks, his quirks, and _his quilits_," &c.
Again, in Lyly's "Euphues," 1581, p. 56: "Not only the, quirks and _quiddities_ of the Logicians, but also," &c.
See also Mr Steevens's note on "Hamlet," act v. sc. I.
[350] [Edits., _fecks-law_, of which I fail to comprehend the meaning, if any. Tha phrase _firk of law_ occurs again at p. 329, and in the sense of a trick or sleight.]
ACTUS II., SCÆNA 1.
_Enter_ OLIVER SMALL-SHANKS, THOMAS SMALL-SHANKS.
O. SMALL. Is this the place you were appointed to meet him?
T. SMALL. So Boutcher sent me word.
O. SMALL. I find it true, That wine, good news, and a young wholesome wench Cheer up an old man's blood. I tell thee, boy, I am right hearty glad to hear thy brother Hath got so great an heir: now were myself So well bestow'd, I should rejoice, i' faith.
T. SMALL. I hope you shall do well.
O. SMALL. No doubt, no doubt; Ah, sirrah! has a' borne the wench away! My son, i' faith, my very son, i' faith! When I was young, and had an able back, And wore the bristle on my upper-lip, In good decorum I had as good conveyance, And could have ferk'd, and ferk'd y' away a wench, As soon as e'er a man alive. Tut, boy, I had my winks, my becks, treads on the toe, Wrings by the fingers, smiles, and other quirks-- No courtier like me; your courtiers all are fools, To that which I could do. I could have done it, boy, Even to a hair, and that some ladies know.
T. SMALL. Sir, I am glad this match may reconcile Your love unto my brother.
O. SMALL. O, 'tis more than so. [Yet] I'll seem offended still, though I am glad [_Aside._
_Enter_ WILLIAM SMALL-SHANKS, FRANCES, BEARD, _booted_.
H' has got rich Sommerfield's heir,
W. SMALL. Come, wench of gold! For thou shalt get me gold, besides odd ends Of silver: we'll purchase house and land By thy bare gettings, wench, by thy bare gettings. How say'st, Lieutenant Beard; does she not look Like a wench newly stole from a window?
BEARD. Exceeding well she carries it, by Jove; And if she can forbear her rampant tricks, And but hold close a while, 'twill take, by Mars.
FRAN. How now, you slave? my rampant tricks, you rogue! Nay, fear not me: my only fear is still, Thy filthy face betrays us; for all men know, Thy nose stands compass like a bow, Which is three quarters drawn; thy head Which is with greasy hair o'erspread, And being uncurl'd and black as coal, Doth show some scullion in a hole Begot thee on a gipsy, or Thy mother was some collier's whore: My rampant tricks, you rogue! thou'lt be descried, Before our plot be ended.
W. SMALL. What should descry him, Unless it be his nose? and as for that, Thou may'st protest he was thy father's butler, And for thy love is likewise run away. Nay, sweet lieutenant, now forbear to puff, And let the bristles of thy beard grow downward: Reverence my punk, and pandarise a little, There's many of thy rank that do profess it, Yet hold it no disparagement.
BEARD. I shall do What fits an honest man.
W. SMALL. Why, that's enough: 'Foot, my father and the goose my brother:-- Back you two.--
BEARD. Back.
[_Enter_ WILLIAM _and_ OLIVER SMALL-SHANKS.]
W. SMALL. Retire, sweet lieutenant, And come not on till I shall wave you on.
O. SMALL. Is not that he?
T. SMALL. 'Tis he.
O. SMALL. But where's the wench![351]
W. SMALL. It shall be so, I'll cheat him, that's flat.
O. SMALL. You are well met: know ye me, good sir? Belike you think I have no eyes, no ears, No nose to smell, and wind out all your tricks, Y' have stole Sir Sommerfield's heir: nay, we can find Your wildest parts, your turnings and returns, Your traces, squats, the mussers, forms, and holes[352] You young men use, if once our sagest wits Be set a-hunting. Are you now crept forth? Have you hid your head within a suburb-hole All this while, and are you now crept forth?
W. SMALL. 'Tis a stark lie.
O. SMALL. How?
W. SMALL. Who told you so did lie; 'Foot! a gentleman cannot leave the city, And keep the suburbs to take a little physic, But straight some slave will say he hides his head. I hide my head within a suburb-hole! I could have holes at court to hide my head, Were I but so dispos'd.
O. SMALL. Thou varlet knave, Th' hast stolen away Sir John Sommerfield's heir; But never look for countenance from me, Carry her whither thou wilt.
W. SMALL. Father, father, Heart! will you undo your posterity? Will you, sir, undo your posterity? I can but kill my brother, then hang myself, And where is then your house? Make me not despair, 'Foot, now I have got a wench, worth by the year Two thousand pound and upwards, to cross my hopes! Would e'er a clown in Christendom do't but you?
T. SMALL. Good father, let him leave this thundering, And give him grace.
W. SMALL. Why, la, my brother knows Reason, and what an honest man should do.
O. SMALL. Well, where's your wife?
W. SMALL. She's coming here behind.
O. SMALL. I'll give her somewhat, though I love not thee.
W. SMALL. My father, right: I knew you could not hold Out long with a woman; but give something Worthy your gift and her acceptance, father. This chain were excellent, by this good light, She shall give you as good, if once her lands
_Enter_ FRANCES _and_ BEARD.
Come to my fingering.
O. SMALL. Peace, knave! what, 's she your wife?
W. SMALL. That shall be, sir.
O. SMALL. And what's he?
W. SMALL. My man.
O. SMALL. A ruffian knave he is.
W. SMALL. A ruffian, sir! By heaven! as tall a man[353] as e'er drew sword, Not being counted of the damned crew. He was her father's butler, his name is Beard; Off with your mask, now shall you find me true, And that I am a son unto a knight: This is my father. [To FRANCES.
O. SMALL. I am indeed, fair maid; My style is knight: come, let me kiss your lips.
W. SMALL. That kiss shall cost your chain.
[_Aside._
O. SMALL. It smacks, i' faith: I must commend your choice.
FRAN. Sir, I have given A larger venture than true modesty Will well allow, or your more graver wit Commend.
W. SMALL. I dare be sworn she has.
O. SMALL. Not so. The foolish knave has been accounted wild, And so have I; but I am now come home, And so will he.
FRAN. I must believe it now.
W. SMALL. Beg his chain, wench. [Aside.
BEARD. Will you cheat your father?
W. SMALL. Ay, by this light, will I.
O. SMALL. Nay, sigh not; For you shall find him loving and me thankful; And were it not a scandal to my honour To be consenting to my son's attempt, You should unto my house: meanwhile, take this [_To_ FRANCES. As pledge and token of my after-love! [_Gives her a chain._ How long since died your father?
FRAN. Some six weeks since------
W. SMALL. We cannot stay to talk, for slaves pursue. I have a house shall lodge us, till the priest May make us sure.
O. SMALL. Well, sirrah, love this woman, And when you are man and wife, bring her to me: She shall be welcome.
W. SMALL. I humbly thank you, sir.
O. SMALL. I must be gone; I must a-wooing too.
W. SMALL. Jove and Priapus speed you! You'll return?
T. SMALL. Instantly.
[_Exeunt_ SIR OLIVER _and_ THOMAS SMALL-SHANKS.
W. SMALL. Why, this came cleanly off, Give me the chain, you little cockatrice; Why, this was luck; 'foot! four hundred crowns Got at a clap! hold still your own, you whore, And we shall thrive.
BEARD. 'Twas bravely fetch'd about.
W. SMALL. Ay, when will your nose and beard perform as much?
FRAN. I am glad he is gone; he put me to the blush When he did ask me of rich Sommerfield's death.
W. SMALL. And took not I my cue?[354] was't not good? Did I not bring you off, you arrant drab, Without a counter-buff?[355] look who comes here-- [_Sings._] _And three merry men, and three merry men,_ _And three merry men be we-a._[356]
_Enter_ BOUTCHER _and_ CONSTANTIA.
BOUT. Still in this vein? I have done you service; The lawyer's house will give you entertainment, Bountiful and free.
W. SMALL. O my second self! Come, let me buss thy beard, we are all made! Why art so melancholy, dost want money? Look, here's gold, and as we pass along, I'll tell thee how I got it: not a word, But that she's Sommerfield's heir; my brother Swallows it with more ease than a Dutchman Does flap-dragons: he comes; now to my lawyers.
_Enter_ THOMAS SMALL-SHANKS.
Kiss my wife, good brother; she is a wench Was born to make us all.
T. SMALL. I hope no less, You are welcome, sister, into these our parts, As I may say.
FRAN. Thanks, gentle brother.
W. SMALL. Come now to Ram Alley. There shalt thou lie, Till I provide a priest.
BOUT. O villany! I think he will gull his whole generation; I must make one, since 'tis so well begun: I'll not forsake him, till his hopes be won. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ THROAT _and two Citizens_.
THROAT. Then y' are friends?
BOTH. We are, so please your worship.
THROAT. 'Tis well, I am glad: keep your money, for law Is like a butler's box:[357] while you two strive, That picks up all your money. You are friends?
BOTH. We are, so please you, perfect friends.
THROAT. Why so. Now to the next tap-house; there drink down this, And by the operation of the third pot Quarrel again, and come to me for law: [_Aside._ Fare you well.
BOTH. The gods conserve your wisdom. [_Exeunt Citizens._
THROAT. Why so: these are tricks[358] of the long fifteens:[359] To give counsel, and to take fees on both sides; To make 'em friends, and then to laugh at them! Why, this thrives well, this is a common trick. When men have spent a deal of money in law, Then lawyers make them friends. I have a trick To go beyond all these. If Small-shanks come, And bring rich Somerfield's heir ---- I say no more; But 'tis within this sconce[360] to go beyond them.
_Enter_ DASH.
DASH. Here are gentlemen in haste would speak with you.
THROAT. What are they?
DASH. I cannot know them, sir, They are so wrapp'd in cloaks.
THROAT. Have they a woman?
DASH. Yes, sir; but she's mask'd, and in her riding suit.
THROAT. Go, make haste, bring them up with reverence. Who[361] are they, i' faith? h' has brought the wealthy heir? These stools and cushions stand not handsomely.
_Enter_ WILLIAM SMALL-SHANKS, BOUTCHER, THOMAS SMALL-SHANKS, FRANCES, _and_ BEARD.
W. SMALL. Bless thee, Throat.
THROAT. Master Small-shanks, welcome.
W. SMALL. Welcome, love; kiss this gentle woman, Throat.
THROAT. Your worship shall command me.
W. SMALL. Art not weary?
BOUT. Can you blame her, since she has rid so hard?
THROAT. You are welcome, gentlemen. Dash!
DASH. Sir.
THROAT. A fire in the great chamber quickly.
W. SMALL. Ay, that's well-said; we are almost weary. But, Master Throat, if any come to inquire For me, my brother, or this gentlewoman, We are not here, nor have you heard of us.
THROAT. Not a word, sir; here you are as safe As in your father's house.
T. SMALL. And he shall thank you.
W. SMALL. Th' art not merry, love? Good Master Throat, Bid this gentlewoman welcome: she is one, Of whom you may receive some courtesy In time.
THROAT. She is most hearty welcome. Wilt please you walk into another room, Where is both bed and fire?
W. SMALL. Ay, ay, that, that. Good brother, lead her in: Master Throat and I Will follow instantly. Now, Master Throat, [_Exeunt_ THOMAS SMALL-SHANKS, FRANCES, _and_ BEARD. It rests within your power to pleasure me: Know that this same is Sir John Sommerfield's heir; Now if she chance to question what I am, Say, son unto a lord: I pray thee, tell her I have a world of land, and stand in hope To be created baron; for I protest I was constrain'd to swear it forty times, And yet she'll scarce believe me.
THROAT. _Pauca sapienti_: Let me alone to set you out in length And breadth.
W. SMALL. I prythee, do't effectually; Shalt have a quarter share, by this good light, In all she has. I prythee, forget not To tell her the Small-shanks have been dancers, Tilters, and very ancient courtiers, And in request at court since Sir John Short-hose With his long silk stockings was beheaded. Wilt thou do this?
THROAT. Refer it to my care.
W. SMALL. Excellent! I'll but shift my boots, and then Go seek a priest; this night I will be sure. If we be sure, it cannot be undone; Can it, Master Throat?
THROAT. O, sir, not possible; You have many precedents and book-cases for't, Be you but sure, and then let me alone. _Vivat Rex, currat Lex_; and I'll defend you.
W. SMALL. Nay, then, hang care: come, let's in.
[_Exit_ WILLIAM SMALL-SHANKS.
THROAT. Ha, ha! Have you stole her? _fallere fallentem non est fraus_. It shall go hard but I will strip you, boy: You stole the wench, but I must her enjoy. [_Exit._
_Enter_ MISTRESS TAFFATA _and_ ADRIANA, _below_.
TAF. Come, Adriana, tell me what thou think'st. I am tickled with conceit of marriage, And whom think'st thou for me the fittest husband? What say'st thou to young Boutcher?
ADRI. A pretty fellow; But that his back is weak.
TAF. What dost thou say To Throat the lawyer?
ADRI. I like that well, Were the rogue a lawyer; but he is none. He never was of any inn-of-court, But [of an] inn-of-chancery, where a' was known But only for a swaggering whiffler, To keep out rogues and prentices: I saw him, When he was stock'd for stealing the cook's fees. A lawyer I could like, for 'tis a thing Used by your citizens' wives. Your husband's dead: To get French hoods you straight must lawyers wed.
TAF. What say'st thou then to nimble Sir Oliver Small-shanks?
ADRI. Faith, he must hit the hair; a fellow fit To make a pretty cuckold. Take an old man: 'Tis now the newest fashion: better be An old man's darling than a young man's warling.[362] Take me the old brisk knight: the fool is rich, And will be strong enough to father children, Though not to get them.
TAF. 'Tis true: he is the man. Yet will I bear some dozen more in hand,[363] And make them all my gulls.
ADRI. Mistress, stand aside.
_Enter_ BOUTCHER _and_ CONSTANTIA.
Young Boutcher comes: let me alone to touch him.
BOUT. This is the house.
CON. And that's the chamber-maid.
BOUT. Where's the widow, gentle Adriana?
ADRI. The widow, sir, is not to be spoken to.
BOUT. Not spoke to? I must speak with her.
ADRI. Must you? Come you with authority, or do you come To sue her with a warrant, that you must speak with her?
BOUT. I would entreat it.
ADRI. O, you would entreat it? May not I serve your turn? may not I unfold Your secrets to my mistress? Love is your suit?
BOUT. It is, fair creature.
ADRI. And why did you fall off, When you perceived my mistress was so coming?[364] D' you think she is still the same?
BOUT. I do.
ADRI. Why so! I took you for a novice: and I must think You know not yet the inwards of a woman. Do you not know that women are like fish, Which must be struck, when they are prone to bite, Or all your labour's lost? But, sir, walk here; And I'll inform my mistress your desires. [_Exit._
CON. Master.
BOUT. Boy.
CON. Come not you for love?
BOUT. I do, boy.
CON. And you would have the widow?
BOUT. I would.
CON. By Jove, I never saw one go about his business More untowardly: why, sir, do not you know, That he which would be inward[365] with the mistress, Must make a way first through the waiting-maid? If you will know the widow's affections, Feel first the waiting gentlewoman; do it, master: Some half a dozen kisses were not lost Upon this gentlewoman; for you must know, These waiting-maids are to their mistresses, Like porches unto doors; you pass the one, Before you can have entrance at the other. Or like your mustard to your piece of brawn, If you'll have one taste well, you must not scorn To be dipping in the other. I tell you, master. 'Tis not a few men's tales which they prefer Unto their mistresses in compass of a year. Be rul'd by me; untruss yourself to her, Out with all your lovesick thoughts to her, Kiss her, and give her an angel to buy pins, And this shall sooner win her mistress' love, Than all your protestations, sighs, and tears.
_Enter_ TAFFATA _and_ ADRIANA.
Here they come. To her boldly, master. Do, but dally not; that's the widow's phrase.[366]
BOUT. Most worthy fair, such is the power of love, That now I come t'accept your proffer'd grace; And with submissive thoughts t'entreat a pardon For my so gross neglect.
TAF. There's no offence; My mind is changed.
ADRI. I told you as much before.
CON. With a hey-pass--with a repass.[367] [_Aside._
BOUT. Dearest of women! The constant virtue of your nobler mind Speaks in your looks: nor can you entertain Both love and hate at once.
TAF. 'Tis all in vain.
ADRI. You strive against the stream.
CON. Fee the waiting-maid, master! [_Whispers._
BOUT. Stand thou propitious; endear me to my love.
[BOUTCHER _gives_ ADRIANA _his purse secretly_.
ADRI. Dear mistress, turn to this gentleman; I protest I have some feeling of his constant love. Cast him not away; try his love.
TAF. Why, sir, With what audacious front can you entreat To enjoy my love, which yet not two hours since You scornfully refus'd?
CON. Well fare the waiting-maid. [_Aside._
BOUT. My fate compell'd me; but now farewell, fond fear: My soul, my life, my lands, and reputation-- I'll hazard all, and prize them all beneath thee.
TAF. Which I shall put to trial; lend me thy ear.
[_They talk apart._
ADRI. Can you love, boy?
CON. Yes.
ADRI. What or whom?
CON. My victuals.
ADRI. A pretty knave, i' faith! come home tonight, Shalt have a posset and candied eringoes. A bed, if need be, too: I love, a' [my] life, To play with such baboons as thou.
CON. Indeed! But dost thou think the widow will have my master?
ADRI. I'll tell thee then: wo't come?
CON. I will.
ADRI. Remember!
TAF. Will you perform so much?
BOUT. Or lose my blood.
TAF. Make him subscribe it; and then I vow, By sacred Vesta's ever-hallowed fire, To take thee to my bed.
BOUT. Till then, farewell.
TAF. He's worthy love, whose virtues most excel.
ADRI. Remember! [_to_ CON.] What, is't a match betwixt you, mistress?
[_Exit_ BOUTCHER _and_ CONSTANTIA.
TAF. I have set the fool in hope: h' has undertook To rid me of that fleshly Captain Face; Which swears in taverns and all ordinaries I am his lawful wife. He shall allay The fury of the captain, and I (secure) Will laugh at the disgrace they both endure. [_Exeunt._
THROAT. Open your case, and I shall soon resolve you.
FRAN. But will you do it, truly?
THROAT. As I am honest.
FRAN. This gentleman, whom I so much affect, I scarce yet do know; so blind is love In things which most concerns it. As y' are honest, Tell me his birth, his state, and farthest hopes.
THROAT. He is my friend, and I will speak him truly. He is by birth son to a foolish knight; His present state, I think, will be the prison, And farthest hope, to be bail'd out again By sale of all your land.
FRAN. O me accurs'd! Has he no credit, lands, and manors?
THROAT. That land he has lies in a fair churchyard; And for his manners, they are so rude and vile, That scarce an honest man will keep him company.
FRAN. I am abus'd, cosen'd, and deceived.