Chapter IV: Introduction (2)

CAREAWAY. Yes, in good faith, sir, by your leave, I know it was I by my apples in my sleeve, And speaketh as like me as ever you heard:[203] Such hair, such a cap, such hose and coat, And in everything as just as fourpence to a groat. That if he were here, you should well see, That you could not discern nor know him from me; For think you, that I do not myself know? I am not so foolish a knave, I trow. Let who woll look him by and by, And he woll depose upon a book that he is I; And I dare well say you woll say the same; For he called himself by my own name. And he told me all that I have done, Sith five of the clock this afternoon, He could tell when you were to supper set [When] you send me home my mistress to fet, And showed me all things that I did by the way--

BONGRACE. What was that?

CAREAWAY. How I did at the bucklers play; And when I scattered a basket of apples from a stall, And gathered them into my sleeve all, And how I played after that also--

BONGRACE. Thou shalt have, boy, therefore,[204] so mote I go; Is that the guise of a trusty page, To play, when he is sent on his master's message?

DAME COY. Lay on and spare not, for the love of Christ, Joll his head to a post,[205] and favour your fist! Now for my sake, sweetheart, spare and favour your hand, And lay him about the ribs with this wand.

CAREAWAY. Now mercy that I ask of you both twain: Save my life, and let me not be slain. I have had beating enough for one day: That a mischief take the other-me Careaway! That if ever he come to my hands again, I-wis it shall be to his pain. But I marvel greatly, by our Lord Jesus, How he-I escaped, I-me beat me thus. And is not he-I an unkind knave, That woll no more pity on myself have? Here may you see evidently, i-wis, That in him-me no drop of honesty is. Now a vengeance light on such a churlish knave That no more love toward myself have!

DAME COY. I knew very,[206] sweet-heart, and said right now, That no fault thereof should be in you.

BONGRACE. No, truly, good bedfellow, I were then much unkind, If you at any time should be out of my mind.

DAME COY. Surely, I have of you a great treasure, For you do all things which may be to my pleasure.

BONGRACE. I am sorry that your chance hath now been so ill: I would gladly been unsupped, so you had your fill; But go we in, pigsnie, that you may sup; You have cause now to thank this same hang-up; For had not he been, you had fared very well.

DAME COY. I bequeath him with a hot vengeance to the devil of hell, And heartily I beseech him that hanged on the rood, That he never eat nor drink that may do him good, And that he die a shameful death, saving my charity!

CAREAWAY. I pray God send him such prosperity, That hath caused me to have all this business. But yet, sirs, you see the charity of my mistress: She liveth after a wonderful charitable fashion; For I assure you she is always in this passion, And scarcely one day throughout the whole year She woll wish any man better cheer, And some time, if she well-angered be, I pray God (woll she say) the house may sink under me! But, masters, if you happen to see that other I, As that you shall, it is not very likely, Nor I woll not desire you for him purposely to look, For it is an uncomparable unhappy hook; And if it be I, you might happen to seek, And not find me out in an whole week. For when I was wont to run away, I used not to come again in less than a month or tway: Howbeit, for all this I think it be not I; For, to show the matter indeed truly, I never use to run away in winter nor in vere,[207] But always in such time and season of the year, When honey lieth in the hives of bees, And all manner fruit falleth from the trees: As apples, nuts, pears, and plums also, Whereby a boy may live abroad a month or two. This cast do I use, I woll not with you feign; Therefore I wonder if he be I, certain. But, and if he be, and you meet me abroad by chance, Send me home to my master with a vengeance! And show him, if he come not here to-morrow night, I woll never receive him again, if I might; And in the meantime I woll give him a groat, That woll well and thriftily walk his coat; For a more ungracious knave is not even now Between this place and Calicow.[208] Nor a more frantic-mad knave in Bedlam, Nor a more fool hence to Jerusalem. That if to come again percase he shall refuse, I woll continue as I am, and let him choose; And but he come the sooner, by our lady bright, He shall lie without the doors all night. For I woll shit[209] up the gate, and get me to-bed, For I promise you I have a very giddy head. I need no supper for this night, Nor would eat no meat, though I might; And for you also, master, I think it[210] best You go to-bed, and take your rest. For who of you had been handled as I have been, Would not be long out of his bed, I ween; No more woll I, but steal out of sight: I pray God give you all good night! And send you better hap and fortune, Than to lese yourself homeward as I have done.

[_Exit Careaway_.

Somewhat it was, saith the proverb old, That the cat winked when her eye was out, That is to say, no tale can be told, But that some English may be picked thereof out If so to search the Latin and ground of it men will go about, As this trifling enterlude that before you hath been rehearsed, May signify some further meaning, if it be well searched.

Such is the fashion of the world now-a-days, That the simple innocents are deluded, And an hundred thousand divers ways By subtle and crafty means shamefully abused, And by strength, force, and violence ofttimes compelled To believe and say the moon is made of a green cheese Or else have great harm, and percase their life lese.

And an old saying it is, that most times might, Force, strength, power, and colourable subtlety Doth oppress, debar, overcome, and defeat right, Though the cause stand never so greatly against equity, And the truth thereof be knowen for never so perfit certainty: Yea, and the poor simple innocent that hath had wrong and injury, Must call the other his good master for showing him such mercy.

And as it is daily seen, for fear of further disprofit, He must that man his best friend and master call, Of whom he never received any manner benefit, And at whose hand he never han any good at all; And must grant, affirm, or deny, whatsoever he shall He must say the crow is white, if he be so commanded, Yea, and that he himself is into another body changed.

He must say he did amiss, though he never did offend; He must ask forgiveness, where he did no trespass, Or else be in trouble, care, and misery without end, And be cast in some arrearage without any grace; And that thing he saw done before his own face He must by compulsion stiffly deny, And for fear, whether he woll or not, say _tongue, you lie_!

And in every faculty this thing is put in ure, And is so universal that I need no one to name, And, as I fear, is like evermore to endure; For it is in all faculties a common sport and game, The weaker to say as the stronger biddeth, or to have blame, As a cunning sophist woll by argument bring to pass, That the rude shall confess, and grant himself an ass.

And this is the daily exercise and practise of their schools, And not among them only, but also among all others: The stronger to compel, and make poor simple fools To say as they command them in all manner matters. I woll name none particular, but set them all together Without any exception; for I pray you show me one Amongst all in the world that seeth not such fashion.

He that is stronger and more of power and might, If he be disposed to revenge his cause, Woll soon pick a quarrel, be it wrong or right, To the inferior and weaker for a couple of straws, And woll against him so extremely lay the laws, That he woll put him to the worse, either by false injury, Or by some craft and subtlety, or else by plain tyranny.

As you saw right now by example plain Another fellow, being a counterfeit page, Brought the gentleman's servant out of his brain, And made him grant that himself was fallen in dotage Bearing himself in hand that he did rage, And when he could not bring that to pass by reason, He made him grant it, and say by compulsion.

Therefore happy are they, that can beware Into whose hands they fall by any such chance; Which if they do, they hardly escape care, Trouble, misery, and woeful grievance, And thus I make an end, committing you to his guidance, That made and redeemed us all, and to you that be now here I pray God grant and send many a good new year!

FINIS.[211]

A PRETTY INTERLUDE CALLED NICE WANTON.

[Of this interlude only two copies have hitherto been discovered, one in the Devonshire collection, the second in the King's Library, British Museum, from the Roxburghe sale. An account of the piece, which has never been reprinted before, is given by Collier ("History of Dramatic Poetry," ii. 381-3). Considering its rarity, early date, and curiosity, it is remarkable that "Nice Wanton" should have escaped Dodsley and his editors.]

A PRETTY INTERLUDE, CALLED NICE WANTON.

Wherein ye may see Three branches of an ill tree: The mother and her children three, Two naught, and one godly.

Early sharp, that will be thorn, Soon ill, that will be naught: To be naught, better unborn, Better unfed than naughtily taught.

_Ut magnum magnos, pueros puerilia doctus_.

* * * * *

PERSONAGES.

_The Messenger. Barnabas. Iniquity. Ismael. Baily errand. Dalilah. Xantippe. Eulalia. Worldly Shame. Daniel the Judge_.

Anno Domini, M.D.LX.

THE PROLOGUE.

THE MESSENGER. The prudent Prince Solomon doth say, He that spareth the rod, the child doth hate, He would youth should be kept in awe alway By correction in time at reasonable rate:

To be taught to fear God, and their parents obey, To get learning and qualities, thereby to maintain An honest quiet life, correspondent alway To God's law and the king's, for it is certain,

If children be noseled[212] in idleness and ill, And brought up therein, it is hard to restrain, And draw them from natural wont evil, As here in this interlude ye shall see plain:

By two children brought up wantonly in play, Whom the mother doth excuse, when she should chastise; They delight in dalliance and mischief alway, At last they end their lives in miserable wise.

The mother persuaded by worldly shame, That she was the cause of their wretched life, So pensive, so sorrowful, for their death she became, That in despair she would sle herself with a knife.

Then her son Barnabas (by interpretation The son of comfort), her ill-purpose do[th] stay, By the scriptures he giveth her godly consolation, And so concludeth; all these parts will we play.

BARNABAS _cometh_.

BARNABAS. My master, in my lesson yesterday, Did recite this text of Ecclesiasticus: Man is prone to evil from his youth, did he say, Which sentence may well be verified in us. Myself, my brother, and sister Dalilah, Whom our parents to their cost to school do find. I tarry for them here, time passeth away, I lose my learning, they ever loiter behind.

If I go before, they do me threat To complain to my mother: she for their sake, Being her tender tidlings,[213] will me beat: Lord, in this perplexity, what way shall I take? What will become of them? grace God them send To apply their learning, and their manners amend!

ISMAEL _and_ DALILAH _come in singing_.

_Here we comen, and here we lonen_,[214]
_And here we will abide abide-a_.

BARNABAS. Fye, brother, fye, and specially you, sister Dalilah, Soberness becometh maids alway.

DALILAH. What, ye dolt, ye be ever in one song!

ISMAEL. Yea, sir, it shall cost you blows, ere it be long.

BARNABAS. Be ye not ashamed the truands to play, Losing your time and learning, and that every day? Learning bringeth knowledge of God and honest living to get.

DALILAH. Yea, marry, I warrant you, master hoddypeak.

BARNABAS. Learn apace, sister, and after to spin and sew, And other honest housewifely points to know.

ISMAEL. Spin, quod-a? yea, by the mass, and with your heels up-wind, For a good mouse-hunt is cat after Saint Kind.[215]

BARNABAS. Lewd speaking corrupteth good manners, Saint Paul doth say; Come, let us go, if ye will, to school this day; I shall be shent for tarrying so long, [_Barnabas goeth out_.

ISMAEL. Go, get thee hence, thy mouth full of horse-dung! Now, pretty sister, what sport shall we devise? Thus palting[216] to school, I think us unwise: In summer die for thrist,[217] in winter for cold, And still to live in fear of a churl who would?

DALILAH. Not I, by the mass, I had rather he hanged were, Than I would sit quaking like a mome for fear. I am sun-burned in summer, in winter the cold Maketh my limbs gross, and my beauty decay; If I should use it, as they would I should, I should never be fair woman, I dare say.

ISMAEL. No, sister, no, but I can tell, Where we shall have good cheer, Lusty companions two or three, At good wine, ale, and beer.

DALILAH. O good brother, let us go, I will never go more to-to[218] school. Shall I never know, What pastime meaneth? Yes, I will not be such a fool.

ISMAEL. Have with thee, Dalilah: Farewell our school! Away with books and all, [_They cast away their books_. I will set my heart On a merry pin, Whatever shall befall.

EULALIA. Lord, what folly is in youth! How unhappy be children now-a-days? And the more pity, to say the truth, Their parents maintain them in evil ways: Which is a great cause that the world decays, For children, brought up in idleness and play, Unthrifty and disobedient continue alway.

A neighbour of mine hath children hereby, Idle, disobedient, proud, wanton, and nice. As they come by, they do shrewd turns daily; Their parents so to suffer them surely be not wise. They laugh me to scorn, when I tell them mine advice; I will speak with their elders and warn them neighbourly: Never in better time, their mother is hereby.

[_Enter Xantippe_.

God save you, gossip, I am very fain, That you chance now to come this way; I long to talk with you a word or twain, I pray you take it friendly that I shall say: Ismael your son and your daughter Dalilah Do me shrewd turns daily more and more, Chide and beat my children, it grieveth me sore. They swear, curse, and scold, as they go by the way, Giving other ill ensample to do the same, To God's displeasure and their hurt another day, Chastise them for it, or else ye be to blame.

XANTIPPE. Tush, tush, if ye have no more than that to say, Ye may hold your tongue and get ye away, Alas, poor souls, they sit a-school all day In fear of a churl; and if a little they play, He beateth them like a devil; when they come home, Your mistress-ship would have me lay on. If I should beat them, so oft as men complain, By the mass, within this month I should make them lame.

EULALIA. Be not offended, I pray you, I must say more, Your son is suspect light-fingered to be: Your daughter hath nice tricks three or four; See to it in time, lest worse ye do see; He that spareth the rod, hateth the child truly. Yet Salomon sober correction doth mean, Not to beat and bounce them, to make them lame.

XANTIPPE. God thank you, mistress, I am well at ease: Such a fool to teach me, preaching as she please! Dame, ye belie them deadly, I know plain; Because they go handsomely, ye disdain.[219]

EULALIA. Then on the other[220] as well would I complain, But your other son is good, and no thanks to you! These will ye make nought, by sweet Jesu.

XANTIPPE. Gup, liar,[221] my children nought ye lie: By your malice they shall not set a fly; I have but one mome in comparison of his brother: Him the fool praiseth, and despiseth the other.

EULALIA. Well, Xantippe, better in time than too late, Seeing ye take it so, here my leave I take. [_Exit_.

XANTIPPE. Marry, good leave have ye, the great God be with you! My children or I be cursed, I think; They be complained on, wherever they go, That for their pleasure they might drink. Nay, by this the poor souls be come from school weary; I will go get them meat to make them merry.

INIQUITY, ISMAEL, _and_ DALILAH _come in together_.

INIQUITY. _Lo, lo, here I bring-a_.

ISMAEL. _What is she, now ye have her?_

DALILAH. _A lusty minion loner_.[222]

INIQUITY. _For no gold will I give her_--

ALL TOGETHER. _Welcome, my honey-a!_

INIQUITY. O my heart! [_Here he speaketh_. This wench can sing, And play her part.

DALILAH. I am yours, and you mine, with all my heart.

INIQUITY. By the mass, it is well sung; Were ye not sorry ye were a maid so long?

DALILAH. Fie, master Iniquity, fie, I am a maid yet.

ISMAEL. No, sister, no, your maidenhead is sick.

INIQUITY. That knave your brother will be a blab still, I-wis, Dalilah, ye can say as much by him, if ye will.

DALILAH. By him, quod-a? he hath whores two or three, But ich tell your minion doll,[223] by Gog's body: It skilleth not she doth hold you as much.

ISMAEL. Ye lie falsely, she will play me no such touch.

DALILAH. Not she? Yes, to do your heart good, I could tell you who putteth a bone in your hood!

ISMAEL. Peace, whore, or ye bear me a box on[224] there--

DALILAH. Here is mine ear, knave; strike, and thou dare! To suffer him thus ye be no man, If ye will not revenge me, I will find one; To set so little by me ye were not wont-- Well, it is no matter; Though ye do, _ceteri nolunt_.

INIQUITY. Peace, Dalilah; speak ye Latin, poor fool?

DALILAH. No, no, but a proverb I learned at school--

ISMAEL. Yea, sister, you went to school, till ye were past grace;--

DALILAH. Yea, so didst thou, by thy knave's face!

INIQUITY. Well, no more a-do, let all this go, We kinsfolk must be friends, it must be so. Come on, come on, come on, [_He casteth dice on the board_. Here they be that will do us all good.

ISMAEL. If ye use it long, your hair will grow through your hood.

INIQUITY. Come on, knave, with Christ's curse, I must have some of the money Thou hast picked out of thy father's purse!

DALILAH. He, by the mass, if he can get his purse, Now and then he maketh it by half the worse.

ISMAEL. I defy you both, whore and knave--

INIQUITY. What, ye princocks, begin ye to rave? Come on--

DALILAH. Master Iniquity, by your leave, I will play a crown or two here by your sleeve.

ISMAEL. Then be ye servant to a worshipful man, Master Iniquity--a right name, by Saint John!

DALILAH. What can ye say by Master Iniquity? I love him and his name most heartily.

INIQUITY. God-a-mercy, Dalilah, good luck, I warrant thee, I will shrive you both by and by. [_He kisseth her_.

ISMAEL. Come on, but first let us have a song.

DALILAH. I am content, so that it be not long.

[_Iniquity and Dalilah sing_:

INIQUITY. _Gold locks,
She must have knocks,
Or else I do her wrong_.

DALILAH. _When ye have your will
Ye were best lie still,
The winter nights be long_.

INIQUITY. _When I ne may,
Another assay;
I will take it for no wrong_:

DALILAH. _Then, by the rood,
A bone in your hood
I shall put, ere it be long_.

ISMAEL. She matcheth you, sirrah!

INIQUITY. By Gog's blood, she is the best whore in England.

DALILAH. It is knavishly praised; give me your hand.

INIQUITY. I would thou hadst such another.

ISMAEL. By the mass, rather than forty pound, brother.

INIQUITY. Here, sirs, come on; seven--[_They set him_. Eleven[225] at all[226]--

ISMAEL. Do ye nick us?[227] beknave your noly!--

INIQUITY. Ten mine--

ISMAEL (_casteth dice_). Six mine, Have at it, and it were for all my father's kine. It is lost by his wounds,[228] and ten to one!

INIQUITY. Take the dice, Dalilah, cast on--
[_She casteth, and they set_.

DALILAH. Come on; five! Thrive at fairest--

ISMAEL. Gup, whore, and I at rest [_he loseth_]. By Gog's blood, I ween God and the devil be against me--

INIQUITY. If th' one forsake thee, th' other will take thee!

ISMAEL. Then is he a good fellow; I would not pass,[229] So that I might bear a rule in hell, by the mass: To toss firebrands at these pennyfathers'[230] pates; I would be porter, and receive them at the gates. In boiling lead and brimstone I would seeth them each one: The knaves have all the money, good fellows have none.

DALILAH. Play, brother, have ye lost all your money now?

ISMAEL. Yea, I thank that knave and such a whore as thou. 'Tis no matter, I will have money, or I will sweat; By Gog's blood, I will rob the next I meet-- Yea, and it be my father. [_He goeth out_.

INIQUITY. Thou boy, by the mass, ye will climb the ladder, Ah, sirrah, I love a wench that can be wily, She perceived my mind with a twink of mine eye, If we two play boody on any man, We will make him as bare as Job anon, Well, Dalilah, let see what ye have won. [_They tell_.

DALILAH. Sir, I had ten shillings when I begon, And here is all--every farthing.

INIQUITY. Ye lie like a whore, ye have won a pound!

DALILAH. Then the devil strike me to the ground!

INIQUITY. I will feel your pocket, by your leave, mistress--

DALILAH. Away, knave, not mine, by the mass--

INIQUITY. Yes, by God, and give you this to boot--
[_He giveth her a box_.

DALILAH. Out, whoreson knave, I beshrew thy heart-root! Wilt thou rob me and beat me too?

INIQUITY. In the way of correction, but a blow or two!

DALILAH. Correct thy dogs, thou shalt not beat me, I will make your knave's flesh cut, I warrant thee. Ye think I have no friends; yes, I have in store A good fellow or two, perchance more. Yea, by the mass, they shall box you for this gear, A knave I found thee, a knave I leave thee here. [_She goeth out_.

INIQUITY. Gup, whore; do ye hear this jade? Loving, when she is pleased: When she is angry, thus shrewd: Thief, brother: sister, whore; Two graffs of an ill tree, I will tarry no longer here, Farewell, God be with ye! [_He goeth out_.

DALILAH _cometh in ragged, her face hid, or disfigured, halting on a staff_.

Alas, wretched wretch that I am, Most miserable caitiff that ever was born, Full of pain and sorrow, crooked and lorn: Stuff'd with diseases, in this world forlorn. My sinews be shrunken, my flesh eaten with pox: My bones full of ache and great pain: My head is bald, that bare yellow locks; Crooked I creep to the earth again. Mine eyesight is dim, my hands tremble and shake: My stomach abhorreth all kind of meat: For lack of clothes great cold I take, When appetite serveth, I can get no meat Where I was fair and amiable of face, Now am I foul and horrible to see; All this I have deserved for lack of grace; Justly for my sins God doth plague me.

My parents did tiddle[231] me: they were to blame; Instead of correction, in ill did me maintain: I fell to[232] naught, and shall die with shame; Yet all this is not half of my grief and pain.

The worm of my conscience, that shall never die, Accuseth me daily more and more: So oft have I sinned wilfully, That I fear to be damned evermore.

_Enter_ BARNABAS.

BARNABAS. What woful wight art thou, tell me, That here most grievously dost lament? Confess the truth, and I will comfort thee, By the word of God omnipotent: Although your time ye have misspent, Repent and amend, while ye have space, And God will restore you to health and grace.

DALILAH. To tell you who I am, I dare not for shame; But my filthy living hath brought me in this case, Full oft for my wantonness you did me blame; Yet to take your counsel I had not the grace. To be restored to health, alas, it is past; Disease hath brought me into such decay, Help me with your alms, while my life doth last, That, like a wretch as I am, I may go my way.

BARNABAS, Show me your name, sister, I you pray, And I will help you now at your need; Both body and soul will I feed.

DALILAH. You[233] have named me already, if I durst be so bold: Your[234] sister Dalilah, that wretch I am; My wanton nice toys ye knew of old. Alas, brother, they have brought me to this shame.

When you went to school, my brother and I would play, Swear, chide, and scold with man and woman; To do shrewd turns our delight was alway, Yet were we tiddled, and you beaten now and then.

Thus our parents let us do what we would, And you by correction they kept thee under awe: When we grew big, we were sturdy and bold; By father and mother we set not a straw,

Small matter for me; I am past; But your brother and mine is in great jeopardy: In danger to come to shame at the last, He frameth his living so wickedly.

BARNABAS. Well, sister,[235] I ever feared ye would be nought, Your lewd behaviours sore grieve[d] my heart: To train you to goodness all means have I sought, But in vain; yet will I play a brotherly part.

For the soul is more precious, most dearly bought With the blood of Christ, dying therefore: To save it first a mean must be sought At God's hand by Christ, man's only Saviour.

Consider, Dalilah, God's fatherly goodness, Which for your good hath brought you in this case. Scourged you with his rod of pure love doubtless, That, once knowing yourself, ye might call for grace.

Ye seem to repent, but I doubt whether[236] For your sins or for the misery ye be in: Earnestly repent for your sin rather, For these plagues be but the reward of sin.

But so repent that ye sin no more, And then believe with steadfast faith, That God will forgive you for evermore, For Christ's sake, as the scripture saith.

As for your body, if it be curable, I will cause to be healed, and[237] during your life I will clothe you and feed you, as I am able. Come, sister, go with me, ye have need of relief. [_They go out_.

DANIEL (_the judge_). As a judge of the country, here am I come, Sent by the king's majesty, justice to do: Chiefly to proceed in judgment of a felon: I tarry for the verdict of the quest,[238] ere I go.

[_Iniquity, Baily errand, comes in; the judge sitteth down_.

Go, Baily, know whether they be all agreed, or no; If they be so, bid them come away, And bring their prisoner; I would hear what they say.

[BAILY]. I go, my Lord, I go, too soon for one: He is like to play a cast will break his neck-bone. I beseech your lor'ship be good to him: The man is come of good kin. If your lordship would be so good to me, [_He telleth him in his ear the rest may not hear_. As for my sake to set him free, I could have twenty pound in a purse, Yea, and your lordship a right fair horse, Well worth ten pound--

DANIEL (_the judge_). Get thee away, thou hell-hound! If ye were well examined and tried, Perchance a false knave ye would be spied. [_Iniquity goeth out; the judge speaketh still_. Bribes (saith Salomon) blind the wise man's sight, That he cannot see to give judgment right. Should I be a briber?[239] nay, he shall have the law, As I owe to God and the king obedience and awe.

[_They bring Ismael in, bound like a prisoner_.

INIQUITY (_aside_). Ye be tied fair enough for running away! If ye do not after me, ye will be hanged, I dare say; If thou tell no tales, but hold thy tongue, I will set thee at liberty, ere it be long, Though thou be judged to die anon.

JUDGE (_to the jury_). Come on, sirs, I pray you, come on, Be you all agreed in one?

QU. Yea, my lord, everychone.
[_One of them speaketh for the quest_.

JUDGE. Where Ismael was indicted[240] by twelve men Of felony, burglary, and murder, As the indictment declareth how, where, and when, Ye heard it read to you lately in order: You, with the rest, I trust all true men, Be charged upon your oaths to give verdit directly, Whether Ismael thereof be guilty or not guilty.

QU. Guilty, my lord, and most guilty.
[_One for the rest_.

INIQUITY. Wilt thou hang, my lord, [this] whoreson noddy?

JUDGE (_to Iniquity_). Tush, hold thy tongue, and I warrant thee[241]--

JUDGE (_to Ismael_). The Lord have mercy upon thee! Thou shalt go to the place thou cam'st fro Till to-morrow, nine of the clock, there to remain: To the place of execution then shalt thou go, There be hanged to death, and after again, Being dead, for ensample to be hanged in a chain. Take him away, and see it be done, At your peril that may fall thereupon.

ISMAEL. Though I be judged to die, I require respite, For the king's advantage some[242] things I can recite.

INIQUITY. Away with him, he will speak but of spite--

JUDGE. Well, we will hear you say what you can, But see that ye wrongfully accuse no man.

ISMAEL. I will belie no man, but this I may say, Here standeth he that brought me to this way:

INIQUITY. My lord, he lieth like a damned knave, The fear of death doth make him rave--

ISMAEL. His naughty company and play at dice Did me first to stealing entice: He was with me at robberies, I say it to his face; Yet can I say more in time and space.

INIQUITY. Thou hast said too much, I beshrew thy whoreson's face. [_Aside_. Hang him, my lord, out of the way, The thief careth not what he doth say. Let me be hangman, I will teach him a sleight; For fear of talking, I will strangle him straight; Tarry here that list, for I will go-- [_He would go_.

JUDGE. No, no, my friend, not so; I thought always ye should not be good, And now it will prove, I see, by the rood. [_They take him in a halter; he fighteth with them_. Take him, and lay him in irons strong, We will talk with you more, ere it be long.

INIQUITY. He that layeth hands on me in this place, Ich lay my brawling iron on his face! By Gog's blood, I defy thy worst; If thou shouldest hang me, I were accurst. I have been at as low an ebb as this, And quickly aloft again, by Gis! I have mo friends than ye think I have; I am entertained of all men like no slave: Yea, within this moneth, I may say to you, I will be your servant and your master too. Yea, creep into your breast, will ye have it so?

JUDGE. Away with them both, lead them away At his death tell me what he doth say, For then belike he will not lie.

INIQUITY, I care not for you both, no, not a fly!
[_They lead them out_.

JUDGE. If no man have here more matter to say, I must go hence some other way. [_He goeth out_.

_Enter_ WORLDLY SHAME.

WORLDLY SHAME. Ha, ha! though I come in rudely, be not aghast, I must work a feat in all the haste; I have caught two birds, I will set for the dame, If I catch her in my clutch, I will her tame.

Of all this while know ye not my name? I am right worshipful master Worldly Shame; The matter that I come now about Is even this, I put you out of doubt--

There is one[243] Xantippe, a curst shrew, I think all the world doth her know, Such a jade she is, and so curst a quean, She would out-scold the devil's dame, I ween.

Sirs, this fine woman had babes three, Twain the dearest darlings that might be, Ismael and fair Dalilah these two: With the lout Barnabas I have nothing to do.

All was good, that these tiddlings do might: Swear, lie, steal, scold, or fight: Cards, dice, kiss, clip, and so forth: All this our mammy would take in good worth.

Now, sir, Dalilah my daughter is dead of the pox, And my son hang'th[244] in chains, and waveth his locks. These news will I tell her, and the matter so frame, That she shall be thine own, master Worldly Shame! Ha, ha, ha!--

XANTIPPE. Peace, peace, she cometh hereby, I spoke no word of her, no, not I.

WORLDLY SHAME. O Mistress Xantippe, I can tell you news:[245] The fair wench, your dear daughter Dalilah, Is dead of the pox taken at the stews; And thy son Ismael, that pretty boy, Whom I dare say you loved very well, Is hanged in chains, every[246] man can tell. Every man saith thy daughter was a strong whore, And thy son a strong thief and a murderer. It must needs grieve you wonderous, That they died so shamefully both two: Men will taunt you and mock you, for they say now The cause of their death was even very you.

XANTIPPE. I the cause of their death?
[_She would sowne_.[247]

WORLDLY SHAME. Will ye sowne, the devil stop thy breath? Thou shalt die (I trow) with more shame; I will get me hence out of the way, If the whore should die, men would me blame; That I killed her, knaves should say. [_Exit_.

XANTIPPE. Alas, alas, and well-away! I may curse the time that I was born, Never woman had such fortune, I dare say; Alas, two of my children be forlorn.

My fair daughter Dalilah is dead of the pox: My dear son Ismael hanged up in chains. Alas, the wind waveth his yellow locks,[248] It slayeth my heart, and breaketh my brains.

Why should God punish and plague me so sore? To see my children die so shamefully! I will never eat bread in this world more, With this knife will I slay myself by and by. [_She would stick herself with a knife_.

_Enter_ BARNABAS.

BARNABAS. Beware what ye do; fye, mother, fye! Will ye spill yourself for your own offence, And seem for ever to exclude God's mercy? God doth punish you for your negligence: Wherefore take his correction with patience, And thank him heartily, that of his goodness He bringeth you in knowledge of your trespass.

For when my brother and sister were of young age, You saw they were given to idleness and play, Would apply no learning, but live in outrage.

And men complained on them every day. Ye winked at their faults, and tiddled them alway; By maintenance they grew to mischief and ill, So at last God's justice did[249] them both spill.

In that God preserved me, small thank to you: If God had not given me special grace, To avoid evil and do good, this is true, I had lived and died in as wretched case, As they did, for I had both suffrance and space; But it is an old proverb, you have heard it, I think: That God will have see, shall not wink.

Yet in this we may all take comfort: They took great repentance, I heard say, And as for my sister, I am able to report, She lamented for her sins to her dying day: To repent and believe I exhorted her alway; Before her death she believed, that God of his mercy, For Christ's sake would save her eternally. If you do even so, ye need not despair, For God will freely remit your sins all, Christ hath paid the ransom, why should ye fear? To believe this and do well, to God for grace call. All worldly cares let pass and fall, And thus comfort my father I pray you heartily, [_Xantippe goeth out_. I have a little to say, I will come by and by.

Right gentle audience, by this interlude ye may see, How dangerous it is for the frailty of youth, Without good governance, to live at liberty, Such chances as these oft happen of truth: Many miscarry, it is the more ruth, By negligence of their elders and not taking pain, In time good learning and qualities to attain.

Therefore exhort[250] I all parents to be diligent In bringing up their children aye[251] to be circumspect; Lest they fall to evil, be not negligent; But chastise them, before they be sore infect: Accept their well-doing, in ill them reject. A young plant ye may plant and bow as ye will; Where it groweth strong, there will it abide still.

Even so by children: in their tender age Ye may work them, like wax, to your own intent; But if ye suffer them long to live in outrage, They will be sturdy and stiff, and will not relent. O ye children, let your time be well-spent, Apply your learning, and your elders obey; It will be your profit another day.

Now, for the Queen's royal majesty let us pray, [_He kneeleth down_. That God (in whose hands is the heart of all queens), May endue her highness with godly puissance alway: That her grace may long reign and prosper in all things, In God's word and justice may give light to all queens. Let us pray for the honourable council and nobility, That they may always counsel us[252] wisdom with tranquillity, God save the Queen, the realm, and commonalty!

[_He maketh courtesy and goeth out_.

FINIS.

* * * * *

A SONG.

_It is good to be merry
But who can be merry?[253]
He that hath a pure conscience,
He may well be merry.[254]

Who hath a pure conscience, tell me?
No man of himself, I ensure thee,
Then must it follow of necessity,
That no man can be merry.

Purity itself may pureness give;
You must ask it of God in true belief;
Then will he give it, and none repreve:[255]
And so we may be merry.

What is the practice of a conscience pure?
To love and fear God, and other allure,
And for his sake to help his neighbour:
Then may he well be merry.

What shall we have, that can and will do this?
After this life everlasting bliss,
Yet not by desert, but by gift, i-wis:
There God make us all merry!_

FINIS.[256]

THE HISTORY OF JACOB AND ESAU.

EDITION.

_A newe mery and wittie Comedie or Enterlude, newely imprinted, treating upon the Historie of Iacob and Esau, taken out of the xxvij. Chap. of the first booke of Moses entituled Genesis. Imprinted at London by Henrie Bynneman, dwelling in Knight-rider Streate, at the signe of the Mermayde. Anno Domini. 1568. 4to_.

This piece is placed earlier in the series than the mere date of publication given above would warrant, because the interlude was licensed in 1557-8, and probably published in pursuance of its registration at Stationers' Hall. The 4to of 1568 is, however, the only impression hitherto recovered, and it is of the greatest rarity. An account of this dramatic curiosity will be found in Collier's "History of English Dramatic Poetry," 1831. It is now for the first time reprinted.

THE PARTS AND NAMES OF THE PLAYERS WHO ARE TO BE CONSIDERED TO BE HEBREWS, AND SO SHOULD BE APPARELLED WITH ATTIRE.

1. THE PROLOGUE, _a Poet_. 2. ISAAC, _an old man, father to Jacob and Esau_. 3. REBECCA, _an old woman, wife to Isaac_. 4. ESAU, _a young man and a hunter_. 5. JACOB, _a young man of godly conversation_. 6. ZETHAR, _a neighbour_. 7. HANAN, _a neighbour to Isaac also_. 8. RAGAN, _servant unto Esau_. 9. MIDO, _a little boy, leading Isaac_. 10. DEBORAH, _the nurse of Isaac's tent_. 11. ABRA, _a little wench, servant to Rebecca_.