Chapter IV: Act IV: , Scene I

_Enter +Sue+, +Tim+, +Captain+, and +Mistress Coote+._

+Tim.+ Ha, ha, ha, grandmother! I'll tell thee the best jest.

+Sue.+ Prythee, chick.

+Mis. Coote.+ Jest, quotha'! Here will be jesting of all sides,
I think, if Jarvis keep his word.

+Tim.+ Sirrah, whilst thou wert sent for into the next room,
up came our second course; amongst others, in a dish of
blackbirds, there lay one that I swore was a woodcock: you were
at table, captain?

+Capt.+ That I was, and our brave mad crew, which for my sake
you are pleased to make welcome.

+Tim.+ Pish, we'll have as many more to-morrow night; but
still I swore 'twas a woodcock: she swore 'twas a blackbird;
now who shall we be tried by but Serjeant Sliceman, Captain
Carvegut's cousin here? a trifling wager, a matter of the
reckoning was laid; the serjeant swore 'twas a blackbird. I
presently paid the reckoning, and she clapped o' the breast
presently, and swore 'twas a woodcock, as if any other would
pass after the reckoning was paid.

+Mis. Coote.+ This was a pretty one, I protest.

+Tim.+ Made sure before such a mad crew of witnesses, sirrah.
Grannum, all's agreed, Sue's----

+Sue.+ Ay, you may see how you men can betray poor maids.

_Enter +Lieutenant+._

+Lieut.+ Do you hear, corporal? yonder's Serjeant Sliceman, and
the brave crew that supped with us, have called for three or
four gallons of wine, and are offering money.

+Tim.+ How! prythee, grannum, look to Dab: do you two but hold
them in talk, whilst I steal down and pay the reckoning.

+Lieut.+ Do't daintily: they'll stay all night.

+Tim.+ That's it I would have, man: we'll make them all drunk;
they'll never leave us else, and still as it comes to a crown,
I'll steal down and pay it in spite of their teeth. Remember,
therefore, that ye make them all drunk; but be sure you keep me
sober to pay the reckonings.

+Omnes.+ Agreed, agreed.

+Mis. Coote.+ O Jarvis, Jarvis, how I long till I see thee!
[_Exeunt._

_Enter +Moll Bloodhound+, and +Sim+ with a letter._

+Moll.+ There we must meet soon, and be married to-morrow
morning, Sim: is't not a mad brother?

+Sim.+ Yes, and I can tell you news of a mad lover.

+Moll.+ What is he, in the name of Cupid?

+Sim.+ Why, one Master Randalls, a Welshman: I have had such
a fit with him; he says he was wished[87] to a very wealthy
widow; but of you he has heard such histories, that he will
marry you, though he never saw you; and that the parboiled Ætna
of his bosom might be quenched by the consequent pastime in the
Prittish flames of his Prittish plood, he salutes you with that
love-letter.

+Moll.+ This is a mad lover, indeed; prythee, read it.

+Sim.+ Mass, h' has writ it in the Welsh-English; we had
been spoiled else for want of an interpreter. But thus he
begins:--_Mistress Maries_--

+Moll.+ He makes two Maries serve one mistress.

+Sim.+ Ever while you live, 'tis your first rule in Welsh
grammars--[88]

_That hur forsake widows, and take maids, was no great wonder,
for sentlemen ever love the first cut._

+Moll.+ But not o' th' coxcomb; he should have put in that.

+Sim.+ The coxcomb follows by consequence, mark else.

_I Randall Crack, of Carmarden, do love thee Mary Ploodhounds,
of Houndsditch, dwelling near Aldgate, and Pishop's-gate, just
as between hawk and buzzard._

+Moll.+ He makes an indifferent wooing.

+Sim.+ _And that hur loves Maries so monstrous, yet never
saw her, was because hur hear hur in all societies so fery
fillanously commended, but specially before one Master Pusy,
constables of hur parish, who made hurself half foxed by
swearing by the wines, that Maries would be monstrous good
marriages for Randalls._

+Moll.+ Master Busy, it seems, was not idle.

+Sim.+ _If Maries can love a Pritain of the plood of
Cadwallader, which Cadwallader was Prut's great grandfather,
Randalls was come in proper persons, pring round sillings in
hur pockets, get father's goodwill, and go to shurch a Sunday
with a whole dozen of Welsh harps before hur. So hur rest hur
constant lovers_,

_Randall William ap Thomas, ap Tavy, ap Robert, ap
Rice, ap Sheffery, Crack._

+Moll.+ Fie! what shall I do with all them?

+Sim.+ Why, he said these all rest your constant lovers,
whereof, for manners'-sake, he puts himself in the first place.
He will call here presently; will you answer him by letter or
word of mouth?

+Moll.+ Troth, neither of either, so let him understand.

+Sim.+ Will ye not answer the love-sick gentleman?

+Moll.+ If he be sick with the love of me, prythee, tell him
I cannot endure him: let him make a virtue of necessity, and
apply my hate for's health. [_Exit._

+Sim.+ Ay, but I'll have more care of the gentleman, I warrant
you: if I do not make myself merry, and startle your midnight
meeting, say Sim has no more wit than his godfathers, and they
were both head-men of his parish.

_Enter +Randall+._

+Ran.+

_Farewell widows prave, her sall no Randalls have.
Widows was very full of wiles;
Mary Ploodhounds now, Randalls make a vow,
Was run for Moll a couple of miles._

Honest Simkins, what said Maries to Randall's letters?

+Sim.+ You're a madman.

+Ran.+ Augh, hur was very glad hur was mad.

+Sim.+ The old man has money enough for her; and if you marry
her, as, if her project take, you may, she'll make you more
than a man.

+Ran.+ More than mans! what's that?

+Sim.+ Troth, cannot you tell that? this is the truth on't; she
would be married to-morrow to one Ancient Young, a fellow she
cannot endure: now, she says, if you could meet her privately
to-night, between ten and eleven, just at the great cross-way
by the Nag's Head tavern at Leadenhall.

+Ran.+ Was high-high pump, there, as her turn in Graces Street?

+Sim.+ There's the very place. Now, because you come the
welcomest man in the world to hinder the match against her mind
with the Ancient, there she will meet you, go with you to your
lodging, lie there all night, and be married to you i' th'
morning at the Tower, as soon as you shall please.

+Ran.+ By cat, hur will go and prepare priests presently. Look
you, Simkins, there is a great deal of round sillings for hur,
hur was very lucky sillings, for came to Randalls shust for all
the world as fortune was come to fool: tell Maries hur will
meet hur, hur warrant hur; make many puppy fools of Ancients,
and love her very monstrously. [_Exit._

+Sim.+ Ha, ha, ha! so, so; this midnight match shall be mine;
she told me she was to meet the Ancient there. I'll be sure the
Ancient shall meet him there; so I shall lie abed and laugh, to
think, if he meet her there, how she will be startled; and if
the Ancient meet him there, how he will be cudgelled. Beware
your ribs, Master Randall. [_Exit._

_Enter +Old Bloodhound+._

+Blood.+ I wonder where this young rogue spends the day. I hear
he has received my hundred marks and my advantage with it; and,
it may be, he went home since I went out. Jarvis was with me
but even now, and bid me watch, and narrowly, for fear of some
of my rival spies, for I know she has many wealthy suitors. All
love money. This Jarvis is most neat in a love business, and,
when we are married (because many mouths, much meat), I will
requite his courtesy, and turn him away: the widow's all I look
for. Nay, let her fling to see I have her possessions; there's
a saw for't--

_There's thriving in wiving: for when we bury
Wives by half-dozens, the money makes merry._

O money, money, money! I will build thee
An altar on my heart, and offer thee
My morning longings and my evening wishes,
And, hadst thou life, kill thee with covetous kisses.

_Enter +John+ and +Jarvis+._

+John.+ But now, and she speak, she spoils all; or if he call
her by my mistress's name, hast thou not tricks to enjoin them
both to silence, till they come sure?

+Jar.+ Phaw! that's a stale one: she shall speak to him in her
own accent; he shall call her by her own name, leaving out the
bawd, yet she shall violently believe he loves her, and he
shall confidently believe the same which he requires, and she
but presents. Fall off; she comes.

_Enter +Mistress Coote+._

+Mis. Coote.+ Jarvis!

+Jar.+ Here I have discovered him; 'tis he, by his coughs.
Remember your instructions, and use few words; say, though
till night you knew it not, you will be married early in the
morning, to prevent a vintner's widow that lays claim to him.

+Blood.+ Jarvis!

+Jar.+ Good old man, I know him by his tongue.

+Blood.+ Is she come? Is she come, Jarvis?

+Jar.+ Ask her if she would live, sir. She walks aloof yonder.

+Blood.+ We shall cosen all her wooers.

+Jar.+ Nay, amongst all of you, we'll cosen one great one,
that had laid a pernicious plot this night, with a cluster of
his roaring friends, to surprise her, carry her down to the
waterside, pop her in at Puddle-dock,[89] and carry her to
Gravesend in a pair of oars.

+Blood.+ What, what is his name, I prythee?

+Jar.+ He's a knight abounding in deeds of charity; his name
Sir Nicholas Nemo.

+Blood.+ And would he pop her in at Puddle-dock?

+Jar.+ And he could but get her down there.

+Blood.+ By my troth, we shall pop him fairly. Where is she?
where is she?

+Jar.+ Ha! do you not perceive a fellow walk up and down
muffled yonder?

+Blood.+ There is something walks.

+Jar.+ That fellow has dogged us all the way, and I fear all is
frustrate.

+Blood.+ Not, I hope, man.

+Mis. Coote.+ This it is to be in love; if I do not dwindle----

+Jar.+ I know him now.

+Blood.+ 'Tis none of Sir Nicholas' spies, is't?

+Jar.+ He serves him.

+Blood.+ He wonnot murder me, will he?

+Jar.+ He shall not touch you: only, I remember, this afternoon
this fellow, by what he had gathered by eavesdropping, or by
frequent observation, asked me privately if there were no
meeting betwixt you and my mistress to-night in this place, for
a widow, he said, he knew you were to meet.

+Blood.+ Good.

+Jar.+ Now I handsomely threw dust in's eyes, and yet kept the
plot swift afoot too. I told him you were here to meet a widow
too, whom you long loved, but would not let her know't till
this afternoon, naming to him one of my aunts[90], a widow
by Fleet-ditch. Her name is Mistress Gray, and keeps divers
gentlewomen lodgers.

+Blood.+ Good again.

+Jar.+ To turn the scent then, and to cheat inquisition the
more ingeniously----

+Blood.+ And to bob Sir Nicholas most neatly.

+Jar.+ Be sure, all this night, in the hearing of any that you
shall but suspect to be within hearing, to call her nothing but
Mistress Coote.

+Blood.+ Or Widow Coote.

+Jar.+ Yes, you may put her in so; but be sure you cohere
in every particle with the precedent fallacy, as that you
have loved her long, though till this day--and so as I did
demonstrate.

+Blood.+ But how an' she should say she is not Widow Coote, and
that she knows no such woman, and so spoil all?

+Jar.+ Trust that with her wit and my instructions. We
suspected a spy, and therefore she will change her voice.

+Blood.+ Thou hast a delicate mistress of her.

+Jar.+ One thing more, and you meet presently. Mine aunt has
had nine husbands; tell her you'll hazard a limb, and make the
tenth.

+Blood.+ Prythee, let me alone; and Sir Nicholas were here
himself, he should swear 'twere thine aunt.

+Jar.+ [_To +Mistress Coote+._] Go forwards towards him; be not
too full of prattle, but make use of your instructions.

+Blood.+ Who's there? Widow Coote?

+Mis. Coote.+ Master Bloodhound, as I take it.

+Blood.+ She changes her voice bravely. I must tell thee,
true widow, I have loved thee a long time (look how the rogue
looks!), but had never the wit to let thee know it till to-day.

+Mis. Coote.+ So I was given to understand, sir.

+Jar.+ Is't not a fool finely? [_Aside._

+John.+ Handsome, by this hand.

+Blood.+ I like thy dwelling well upon the Fleet-ditch.

+Mis. Coote.+ A pretty wholesome air, sir, in the summer-time.

+Blood.+ Who would think 'twere she, Jarvis? [_Aside._

+Jar.+ I told ye she was tutored. [_Aside._

+Blood.+ I'll home with her presently; some stays up in the
dark.

+Jar.+ Fool! and he have any private discourse with her, they
discover themselves one to another, and so spoil the plot.
No trick! no, by no means, sir, hazard your person with her;
the bold rogue may come up close, so discover her to be my
mistress, and recover her with much danger to you.

+Blood.+ He has got a dagger.

+Jar.+ And a sword six foot in length. I'll carry her home for
you, therefore [let] not a light be stirring. For I know your
rivals will watch your house. Sim shall show us the chamber,
we'll conduct her up i' th' dark, shut the door to her above,
and presently come down and let you in below.

+Blood.+ There was never such a Jarvis heard of. Bid Sim to be
careful; by the same token, I told him he should feed to-morrow
for all the week after. Good night, Widow Coote; my man stayeth
up; we will bob Sir Nicholas bravely. Good night, sweet Widow
Coote; I do but seem to part; we'll meet at home, wench.
[_Exit._

+Mis. Coote.+ Adieu, my sweet dear heart.

+Jar.+ Go you with me. So, so, I'll cage this cuckoo,
And then for my young madcap; if all hit right,
This morning's mirth shall crown the craft o' th' night.
Follow me warily.

+Mis. Coote.+ I warrant thee, Jarvis, let me alone to right
myself into the garb of a lady. O, strange! to see how dreams
fall by contraries; I shall be coached to-morrow, and yet last
night dreamed I was carted. Prythee, keep a little state; go,
Jarvis. [_Exeunt._

_Enter +Randall+. [Midnight.]_

+Ran.+ Was fery exceeding dark, but here is high pumps, sure,
here is two couple of cross-ways, and there was the street
where Grace dwells. One hundred pound in mornings in round
shillings, and wife worth one thousand, ere hur go to bed.
Randall's fortunes comes tumbling in like lawyers' fees, huddle
upon huddle.

_Enter +Moll+._

+Moll.+ O sweet Ancient, keep thy word and win my heart. They
say a moonshine night is good to run away with another man's
wife; but I am sure a dark night is best to steal away my
father's daughter.

+Ran.+ Mary.

+Moll.+ O, are you come, sir? there's a box of land and
livings, I know not what you call it.

+Ran.+ Lands and livings?

+Moll.+ Nay, nay; and we talk, we are undone. Do you not see
the watch coming up Gracious Street yonder? This cross-way was
the worst place we could have met at; but that is yours, and I
am yours; but, good sir, do not blame me, that I so suddenly
yielded to your love; alas! you know what a match on't I should
have to-morrow else.

+Ran.+ Hur means the scurvy Ancient. [_Aside._

+Moll.+ I' th' morning we shall be man and wife, and
then--Alas, I am undone! the watch are hard upon us: go
you back through Cornhill, I'll run round about the 'Change
by the Church Corner, down Cateaton Street, and meet you at
Bartholomew Lane end. [_Exit._

+Ran.+ Cat's Street was call hur? sure, Randalls was wrapped
in['s][91] mother's smock.

_Enter +Constable+ and +Watch+._

+Con.+ Keep straight towards Bishopsgate: I'm deceived if I
heard not somebody run that way.

_Enter +Maid+ with a bandbox._[92]

+Watch.+ Stay, sir; her's somebody come from Aldgate Ward?

+Maid.+ Alas! I shall be hanged for staying so long for this
cuff.

+Watch.+ Come before the constable here.

+Maid.+ Let the constable come before me, and he please.

+Con.+ How now! where ha' you been, pray, dame, ha!

+Maid.+ For my mistress's ruff at her sempstress', sir; she
must needs use it to-morrow, and that made me stay till it was
done.

+Con.+ Pray, who's your mistress? where dwell you?

+Maid.+ With one Mistress Wag, in Blackfriars, next to the sign
of the Feathers and the Fool, sir.

+Con.+ O, I know her very well; make haste home; 'tis late.
Come, come, let's back to Gracechurch; all's well, all's well.
[_Exeunt._

_Enter severally, +Ancient+ and +Moll+._

+Anc.+ I 'scaped the watch at Bishopsgate with ease: there is
somebody turning down the church corner towards the Exchange;
it may be Mistress Mary.

+Moll.+ Ancient!

+Anc.+ Yes.

+Moll.+ Are you here again? you have nimbly followed me: what
said the watch to you?

+Anc.+ I passed them easily; the gates are but now shut in.

+Moll.+ As we go, I'll tell thee such a tale of a Welsh wooer
and a lamentable love-letter.

+Anc.+ Yes, Sim told me of such a rat, and where he lodges: I
thought I should have met him here.

+Moll.+ Here? out upon him! But the watches walk their station,
and in few words is safety. I hope you will play fair, and
lodge me with the maid you told me of.

+Anc.+ She stays up for us, wench: in the word of a gentleman,
all shall be fair and civil.

+Moll.+ I believe you. [_Exeunt._

_Enter at several doors, +Randall+ and +Maid+._

+Ran.+ Sounds, was another fire-drake[93] walk in shange, we'll
run pack; was Maries have saved her labours, and was come after
Randalls. Maries, was Randall, that loves hur mightily Maries.

+Maid.+ Master Randall.

+Ran.+ How did watch let her go to Grace's Street?

+Maid.+ They knew me, and let me pass.

+Ran.+ Well now hur understands Maries loves Randalls so mighty
deal.

+Maid.+ If John have not told him, I'll be hanged. [_Aside._

+Ran.+ Maries shall go with Randalls to lodgings, and that hur
father work no divorcements, he will lie with her all to-night,
and marry her betimes next morning: meantime, hur will make
lands and livings fast.

+Maid.+ How? father! this is a mistake sure; and, to fashion it
fit for mine own following, I will both question and answer in
ambiguities that if he snap me one way, I may make myself good
i' th' other; and as he shall discover himself, I'll pursue the
conceit accordingly. [_Aside._] But will ye not deceive me?
maids[94] are many men's almanacs; the dates of your desires
out, we serve for nothing but to light tobacco.

+Ran.+

_If Randall false to Maries prove,
Then let not Maries Randalls love:
For Randalls was so true as Jove,
And Maries was hur joy.
If Randalls was not Pritain born,
Let Maries Randalls prow adorn,
And let her give a foul great horn
To Randalls._

Hur will love hur creat deal of much, hur warrant hur.

+Maid.+ And 'tis but venturing a maidenhead; if the worst come
to the worst, it may come back with advantage. [_Exeunt._

_Enter in her night-clothes, as going to bed, +Widow+
and +Maid+._

+Wid.+ Is not Mary come home yet?

+Maid.+ No, forsooth.

+Wid.+ 'Tis a fine time of night, I shall thank her for't: 'tis
past eleven, I am sure. Fetch the prayer-book lies within upon
my bed.

+Maid.+ Yes, forsooth. [_Exit._

+Wid.+ I wonder what this gentleman should be that catched me
so like Jarvis: he said he has fitted old Bloodhound according
to his quality; but I must not let him dally too long upon my
daily company: lust is a hand-wolf, who with daily feeding, one
time or other, takes a sudden start upon his benefactor.

_Enter +Maid+._

+Maid.+ O mistress, mistress!

+Wid.+ What's the matter, wench?

+Maid.+ A man, a man under your bed, mistress.

+Wid.+ A man! what man?

+Maid.+ A neat man, a proper man, a well-favoured man, a
handsome man.

+Wid.+ Call up John: where's Jarvis?

+Maid.+ Alas! I had no power to speak; his very looks are able
to make a woman stand as still as a miller's horse, when he's
loading. O, he comes, he comes! [_Exit._

_Enter +Alexander+._

+Wid.+ How came you hither, sir? how got you in?

+Alex.+ As citizens' wives do into masques, whether I would or
no. Nay, nay, do not doubt the discretion of my constitution:
I have brought ne'er a groat in my bosom; and, by this hand, I
lay under thy bed with a heart as honest and a blood as cold as
had my sister lain at top. Will you have me yet?

+Wid.+ You're a very rude, uncivil fellow.

+Alex.+ Uncivil! and lay so tame while you set up your foot
upon the bed to untie your shoe! such another word, I will
uncivilise that injured civility which you so scurvily slander,
and reward you with an undecency proportionable to your
understandings. Will you have me? will you marry me?

+Wid.+ You! why, to-morrow morning I am to be married to your
father.

+Alex.+ What, to sixty and I know not how many? that will lie
by your side, and divide the hours with coughs, as cocks do the
night by instinct of nature.

+Wid.+ And provide for his family all day.

+Alex.+ And only wish well to a fair wife all night.

+Wid.+ And keep's credit all day in all companies.

+Alex.+ And discredit himself all night in your company.

+Wid.+ Fie, fie! pray quit my house, sir.

+Alex.+ Yours? 'tis my house.

+Wid.+ Your house! since when?

+Alex.+ Even since I was begotten; I was born to't. I must have
thee, and I will have thee; and this house is mine, and none of
thine.

_Enter +Jarvis+._

+Jar.+ O mistress, the saddest accident i' th' street yonder.

+Wid.+ What accident, prythee?

+Jar.+ You must pardon my boldness in coming into your
bed-chamber: there is a gentleman slain in a fray at the door
yonder, and the people won't be persuaded but that he that did
it took this house. There is a constable, churchwardens, and
all the head-men of the parish be now searching; and they say
they will come up hither to your bed-chamber, but they'll find
him. I'll keep them down as long as I can; I can do no more
than I can. [_Exit._

+Wid.+ Are not you the murderer, sir?

+Alex.+ I ha' been under thy bed, by this hand, this three
hours.

+Wid.+ Pray, get you down then: they will all come up, and find
you here and all, and what will the parish think then? Pray get
you down.

+Alex.+ No, no, no; I will not go down, now I think on't.
[_Makes himself unready._[95]

+Wid.+ Why, what do you mean; you will not be so uncivil to
unbrace you here?

+Alex.+ By these buckles, I will, and what will they think
on't----

+Wid.+ Alas! you will undo me.

+Alex.+ No, no, I will undo myself, look ye.

+Wid.+ Good sir.

+Alex.+ I will off with my doublet to my very shirt.

+Wid.+ Pray, sir, have more care of a woman's reputation.

+Alex.+ Have a care on't thyself, woman, and marry me then.[96]

+Wid.+ Should they come up and see this, what could they
think, but that some foul, uncivil act of shame had this night
stained my house? and as good marry him as my name lost for
ever. [_Aside._

+Alex.+ Will you have me, afore t'other sleeve goes off?

+Wid.+ Do, hang yourself; I will not have you--look, look, if
he have not pulled it off quite: why, you wonnot pull off your
boots too, will you?

+Alex.+ Breeches and all, by this flesh.

+Wid.+ What, and stand naked in a widow's chamber?

+Alex.+ As naked as Grantham steeple or the Strand May-pole, by
this spur: and what your grave parishioners will think on't?

+Jar.+ Gentlemen, pray keep down.

+Wid.+ Alas! they are at the stairs' foot; for heaven's sake,
sir!

+Alex.+ Will you have me?

+Wid.+ What shall I do? no.

+Alex.+ This is the last time of asking; they come up, and down
go my breeches. Will you have me?

+Wid.+ Ay, ay, ay, alas! and your breeches go down, I am undone
for ever.

+Alex.+ Why, then, kiss me upon't. And yet there's no cracking
your credit: Jarvis, come in, Jarvis.

_Enter +Jarvis+._

+Jar.+ I have kept my promise, sir; you've catched the old one.

+Wid.+ How, catched? is there nobody below, then?

+Jar.+ Nobody but John, forsooth, recovering a tobacco snuff,
that departed before supper.

+Wid.+ And did you promise this, sir?

+Jar.+ A woman cannot have a handsomer cloud than a
hair-brained husband: I will be your coz, he shall be my
cuckold. [_Aside._

+Wid.+ I love you for your art. [_Aside._

+Jar.+ Come, come, put on, sir; I've acquainted you both with
your father's intended marriage. I' th' morning you shall
certify him very early by letter the quality of your fortunes,
and return to your obedience; and that you and your wife, still
concealing the parties, will attend him to church. John and
I'll be there early, as commanded by my mistress, to discharge
our attendance: about goes the plot, out comes the project, and
there's a wedding-dinner dressed to your hands.

+Alex.+ As pat as a fat heir to a lean shark; we shall hunger
for't: honest Jarvis, I am thy bedfellow to-night, and
to-morrow thy master.

+Wid.+ You're a fine man to use a woman thus.

+Alex.+ Pish! come, come.
Fine men must use fine women thus, 'tis fit.
Plain truth takes maids, widows are won with wit.

+Jar.+ You shall wear horns with wisdom; that is in your
pocket. [_Exeunt._

FOOTNOTES:

[87] _i.e._, Recommended.

[88] _Ever while you live, 'tis your first rule in We'sh grammars_, which is clearly a reply to Moll's remark, has been hitherto very absurdly made a part of Randall's letter, which begins only at _That hur forsake_, &c.

[89] On the banks of the river Thames, formerly used for a laystall for the soil of the streets, and much frequented by barges and lighters for taking the same away; also for landing corn and other goods.--"Stowe's Survey," bk. iii., p. 229, vol. i edit 1720.

[90] [The cant meaning of aunt at that time was _procuress_. See Dyce's Middleton, i. 444. The word in this acceptation is not unusual.]

[91] [See Hazlitt's "Proverbs," 1869, p. 149. _To be wrapped in his mother's smock_ is a synonym for good fortune.]

[92] In the 4º it runs _Enter Chambermaid, Hugh with a bandbox_: probably Hugh, though he says nothing, carried the box for the maid. Mr. Reed made the change.--_Collier._

[93] See note to "The Miseries of Enforced Marriage," [ix. 572.]

[94] [Old copy, _many minds_.]

[95] To make one's-self _unready_ was the common term for undressing. See several instances in Mr Steevens's note on the "First Part of King Henry VI.," act ii. sc. 1.

[96] In the old copy, the dialogue is here confused, what is said by Alexander being given to the widow, and what is said by the widow to Jarvis.--_Collier._