Chapter VI: Act V: Scene I

_Gertrude's lodging._

_Enter_ GERTRUDE _and_ SINDEFY.

_Ge._ Ah, Sin! hast thou ever read i' the chronicle of
any lady and her waiting-woman driven to that extremity
that we are, Sin?

_Si._ Not I, truly, madam; and if I had, it were but
cold comfort should come out of books now.

_Ge._ Why, good faith, Sin, I could dine with a lamentable
story, now. _O_[99] _hone, hone, o no nera!_ &c. Canst
thou tell ne'er a one, Sin?

_Si._ None but mine own, madam, which is lamentable
enough: first to be stolen from my friends, which were
worshipful and of good accompt, by a prentice, in the
habit and disguise of a gentleman, and here brought up
to London, and promised marriage, and now likely to be
forsaken, for he is in possibility to be hanged! 14

_Ge._ Nay, weep not, good Sin; my Petronel is in as
good possibility as he. Thy miseries are nothing to
mine, Sin; I was more than promised marriage, Sin; I
had it, Sin; and was made a lady; and by a knight,
Sin; which is now as good as no knight, Sin. And I
was born in London, which is more than brought up,
Sin; and already forsaken, which is past likelihood,
Sin; and instead of land i' the country, all my
knight's living lies i' the Counter, Sin; there's his
castle now! 24

_Si._ Which he cannot be forced out of, madam.

_Ge._ Yes, if he would live hungry a week or two.
"Hunger," they say, "breaks stone walls." But he is
e'en well enough served, Sin, that so soon as ever he
had got my hand to the sale of my inheritance, run
away from me, and I had been his punk, God bless us!
Would the Knight o' the Sun,[100] or Palmerin of England,
have used their ladies so, Sin? or Sir Lancelot? or Sir
Tristram?

_Si._ I do not know, madam. 34

_Ge._ Then thou know'st nothing, Sin. Thou art a
fool, Sin. The knighthood nowadays are nothing like
the knighthood of old time. They rid a-horseback; ours
go a-foot. They were attended by their squires; ours
by their lackeys. They went buckled in their armour;
ours muffled in their cloaks. They travelled wildernesses
and deserts; ours dare scarce walk the streets. They
were still pressed to engage their honour; ours still
ready to pawn their clothes. They would gallop on at
sight of a monster; ours run away at sight of a sergeant.
They would help poor ladies; ours make poor ladies.

_Si._ Ay, madam, they were knights of the Round
Table at Winchester, that sought adventures; but these
of the Square Table at ordinaries, that sit at hazard.[101] 48

_Ge._ True,[102] Sin, let him vanish. And tell me, what
shall we pawn next?

_Si._ Ay, marry, madam, a timely consideration; for
our hostess (profane woman!) has sworn by bread and
salt she will not trust us another meal.

_Ge._ Let it stink in her hand then. I'll not be beholding
to her. Let me see, my jewels be gone, and my
gowns, and my red velvet petticoat that I was married
in, and my wedding silk stockings, and all thy best
apparel, poor Sin! Good faith, rather than thou
shouldst pawn a rag more, I'd lay my ladyship in
lavender[103]--if I knew where. 60

_Si._ Alas, madam, your ladyship!

_Ge._ Ay,--why?--you do not scorn my ladyship,
though it is in a waistcoat? God's my life! you are a
peat[104] indeed! Do I offer to mortgage my ladyship for
you and for your avail, and do you turn the lip and the
alas to my ladyship?

_Si._ No, madam; but I make question who will lend
anything upon it? 68

_Ge._ Who?--marry, enow, I warrant you, if you'll seek
'hem out. I'm sure I remember the time when I would
ha' given one thousand pounds (if I had had it) to have
been a lady; and I hope I was not bred and born with
that appetite alone: some other gentle-born o' the city
have the same longing, I trust. And for my part, I
would afford 'hem a penn'orth; my ladyship is little the
worse for the wearing, and yet I would bate a good
deal of the sum. I would lend it (let me see) for forty
pound in hand, Sin; that would apparel us; and ten
pound a year, that would keep me and you, Sin (with
our needles); and we should never need to be beholding
to our scurvy parents. Good Lord! that there are
no fairies nowadays, Sin! 82

_Si._ Why, madam?

_Ge._ To do miracles, and bring ladies money. Sure,
if we lay in a cleanly house, they would haunt it, Sin.
I'll try. I'll sweep the chamber soon at night, and set
a dish of water o' the hearth. A fairy may come, and
bring a pearl or a diamond. We do not know, Sin.
Or, there may be a pot of gold hid o' the backside,[105] if
we had tools to dig for't? Why may not we two rise
early i' the morning, Sin, afore anybody is up, and find
a jewel i' the streets worth a hundred pound? May not
some great court-lady, as she comes from revels at midnight,
look out of her coach as 'tis running, and lose
such a jewel, and we find it? Ha? 95

_Si._ They are pretty waking dreams, these.

_Ge._ Or may not some old usurer be drunk overnight,
with a bag of money, and leave it behind him on a stall?
For God's sake, Sin, let's rise to-morrow by break of
day, and see. I protest, law, if I had as much money
as an alderman, I would scatter some on't i' th' streets
for poor ladies to find, when their knights were laid up.
And, now I remember my song o' the Golden Shower,
why may not I have such a fortune? I'll sing it, and
try what luck I shall have after it. 105

"Fond fables tell of old,
How Jove in Danäe's lap
Fell in a shower of gold,
By which she caught a clap;
O had it been my hap 110
(How ere the blow doth threaten),
So well I like the play,
That I could wish all day
And night to be so beaten."

_Enter_ Mistress TOUCHSTONE.

O here's my mother! good luck, I hope. Ha' you
brought any money, mother? Pray you, mother, your
blessing. Nay, sweet mother, do not weep.

_Mist. T._ God bless you! I would I were in my
grave! 119

_Ge._ Nay, dear mother, can you steal no more money
from my father? Dry your eyes, and comfort me.
Alas! it is my knight's fault, and not mine, that I am
in a waistcoat, and attired thus simply.

_Mist. T._ Simply, 'tis better than thou deservest.
Never whimper for the matter. Thou shouldst have
looked before thou hadst leapt. Thou wert afire to be
a lady, and now your ladyship and you may both blow
at the coal, for aught I know. Self do, self have. The
hasty person never wants woe, they say. 129

_Ge._ Nay, then, mother, you should ha' looked to it.
A body would think you were the older; I did but my
kind, I. He was a knight, and I was fit to be a lady.
'Tis not lack of liking, but lack of living, that severs us.
And you talk like yourself and a cittiner in this, i'faith.
You show what husband you come on, I wis. You
smell the Touchstone--he that will do more for his
daughter, that he has married [to] a scurvy gold-end man[106]
and his prentice, than he will for his t'other daughter,
that has wedded a knight and his customer. By this
light, I think he is not my legitimate father. 140

_Si._ O, good madam, do not take up your mother so!

_Mist. T._ Nay, nay, let her e'en alone. Let her ladyship
grieve me still, with her bitter taunts and terms. I
have not dole enough to see her in this miserable case,
I--without her velvet gowns, without ribands, without
jewels, without French-wires, or cheat-bread,[107] or quails,
or a little dog, or a gentleman-usher, or anything, indeed,
that's fit for a lady----

_Si._ Except her tongue. 149

_Mist. T._ And I not able to relieve her, neither, being
kept so short by my husband. Well, God knows my
heart; I did little think that ever she should have had
need of her sister Golding.

_Ge._ Why, mother, I ha' not yet. Alas! good mother,
be not intoxicate for me; I am well enough; I would
not change husbands with my sister, I. The[108] leg of a
lark is better than the body of a kite.

_Mist. T._ I know that: but----

_Ge._ What, sweet mother, what?

_Mist. T._ It's but ill food when nothing's left but the
claw. 161

_Ge._ That's true, mother. Ay me!

_Mist. T._ Nay, sweet lady-bird,[109] sigh not. Child,
madam--why do you weep thus? Be of good cheer; I
shall die if you cry, and mar your complexion thus.

_Ge._ Alas, mother, what should I do?

_Mist. T._ Go to thy sister's, child; she'll be proud thy
ladyship will come under her roof. She'll win thy
father to release thy knight, and redeem thy gowns, and
thy coach and thy horses, and set thee up again. 170

_Ge._ But will she get him to set my knight up too?

_Mist. T._ That she will, or anything else thou'lt ask
her.

_Ge._ I will begin to love her if I thought she would do
this.

_Mist. T._ Try her, good chuck,[110] I warrant thee.

_Ge._ Dost thou think she'll do't?

_Si._ Ay, madam, and be glad you will receive it.

_Mist. T._ That's a good maiden; she tells you true.
Come, I'll take order for your debts i' the alehouse. 180

_Ge._ Go, Sin, and pray for thy Frank, as I will for my
Pet.

[_Exeunt._

[99] See Chappell's _Popular Music of the Olden Time_, i.
369.

[100] See note, vol. i. p. 30.

[101] _Hazard_ was the name of a game at dice. Cotton in the
_Complete Gamester_, 1674 (pp. 67-72), devotes a chapter to
it. He remarks:--"Certainly Hazard is the most bewitching game
that is played on the dice, for when a man begins to play he
knows not when to leave off; and having once accustomed himself
to play at Hazard, he hardly ever after minds anything else."

[102] Old ed. "Trie."

[103] "Lay in lavender" = pawn.

[104] A spoilt, self-willed girl.

[105] "Backside"--the yard at the back of a house.

[106] "Gold-end man"--one who buys ends (_i.e._, broken
pieces) of gold. See Gifford's _Jonson_, ed. 1875, iv. 76.

[107] Fine wheaten bread.

[108] An old proverb: it is among John Heywood's _Proverbs_.

[109] This term of endearment is applied by the Nurse to Juliet
(_Rom. and Jul._, 1. iii.)

[110] A favourite word with Marston.

SCENE II.

_Goldsmiths' Row._

_Enter_ TOUCHSTONE, GOLDING, WOLF.

_To._ I will receive no letters, Master Wolf; you shall
pardon me.

_Go._ Good father, let me entreat you.

_To._ Son Golding, I will not be tempted; I find mine
own easy nature, and I know not what a well-penned
subtle letter may work upon it; there may be tricks,
packing, do you see? Return with your packet, sir.

_Wo._ Believe it, sir, you need fear no packing here;
these are but letters of submission all.

_To._ Sir, I do look for no submission. I will bear
myself in this like blind Justice. Work upon that now.
When the sessions come they shall hear from me. 12

_Go._ From whom come your letters, Master Wolf?

_Wo._ And't please you, sir, one from Sir Petronel,
another from Francis Quicksilver, and a third from old
Security, who is almost mad in prison. There are two
to your worship; one from Master Francis, sir, another
from the knight.

_To._ I do wonder, Master Wolf, why you should travail
thus, in a business so contrary to kind, or the nature o'
your place: that you, being the keeper of a prison,
should labour the release of your prisoners; whereas,
methinks, it were far more natural and kindly in you to
be ranging about for more, and not let these 'scape you
have already under the tooth. But they say you Wolves,
when you ha' sucked the blood, once that they are dry,
you ha' done. 27

_Wo._ Sir, your worship may descant as you please o'
my name; but I protest I was never so mortified with
any men's discourse or behaviour in prison; yet I have
had of all sorts of men i' the kingdom under my
keys; and almost of all religions i' the land, as
Papist, Protestant, Puritan, Brownist, Anabaptist, Millenary,
Family-o'-Love, Jew, Turk, Infidel, Atheist, Good-Fellow,
&c.

_Go._ And which of all these, thinks Master Wolf, was
the best religion? 37

_Wo._ Troth, Master Deputy, they that pay fees best:
we never examine their consciences farther.

_Go._ I believe you, Master Wolf. Good faith, sir,
here's a great deal of humility i' these letters.

_Wo._ Humility, sir? Ay, were your worship an eyewitness
of it you would say so. The knight will i' the
Knight's Ward,[111] do what we can, sir; and Master Quicksilver
would be i' the Hole if we would let him. I never
knew or saw prisoners more penitent, or more devout.
They will sit you up all night singing of psalms and
edifying the whole prison; only Security sings a note
too high sometimes, because he lies i' the Twopenny
Ward, far off, and cannot take his tune. The neighbours
cannot rest for him, but come every morning to ask
what godly prisoners we have. 52

_To._ Which on 'hem is't is so devout--the knight or
the t'other?

_Wo._ Both, sir; but the young man especially. I
never heard his like. He has cut his hair too. He is
so well given, and has such good gifts, he can tell you
almost all the stories of the _Book of Martyrs_, and speak
you all the _Sick Man's Salve_[112] without book.

_To._ Ay, if he had had grace--he was brought up
where it grew, I wis. On, Master Wolf. 61

_Wo._ And he has converted one Fangs, a sergeant, a
fellow could neither write nor read; he was called the
Bandog o' the Counter; and he has brought him already
to pare his nails and say his prayers; and 'tis hoped he
will sell his place shortly, and become an intelligencer.

_To._ No more; I am coming already. If I should
give any farther care I were taken. Adieu, good Master
Wolf. Son, I do feel mine own weaknesses; do not
importune me. Pity is a rheum that I am subject to;
but I will resist it. Master Wolf, fish is cast away that
is cast in dry pools. Tell hypocrisy it will not do; I
have touched and tried too often; I am yet proof, and
I will remain so; when the sessions come they shall hear
from me. In the meantime, to all suits, to all entreaties,
to all letters, to all tricks, I will be deaf as an adder,
and blind as a beetle, lay mine ear to the ground, and
lock mine eyes i' my hand, against all temptations. 78

[_Exit._

_Go._ You see, Master Wolf, how inexorable he is.
There is no hope to recover him. Pray you commend
me to my brother knight, and to my fellow Francis;
present 'hem with this small token of my love; tell 'hem,
I wish I could do 'hem any worthier office; but in this,
'tis desperate: yet I will not fail to try the uttermost of
my power for 'hem. And, sir, as far as I have any
credit with you, pray you let 'hem want nothing; though
I am not ambitious they should know so much. 87

_Wo._ Sir, both your actions and words speak you to
be a true gentleman. They shall know only what is fit,
and no more.

[_Exeunt._

[111] The _Knight's Ward_, the _Twopenny Ward_, and the
_Hole_ were different divisions of a prison: see Fenner's
_Compter's Commonwealth_, 1617. Sir Petronel showed his
humility by choosing the inferior accommodation of the
_Knight's Ward_ when it was open to him to _lie of the
Master's side_. Cf. _Westward Ho_, iii. 2:--

"_Monopoly._ Which is the dearest ward in prison,
Sergeant? the Knight's Ward?

_Ambush._ No, sir, the Master's side."

[112] A treatise by Thomas Becon, originally published in 1561.
It was very popular, and is frequently mentioned by the
dramatists.

SCENE III.

_The Compter._

_Enter_ HOLDFAST _and_ BRAMBLE.

_Ho._ Who would you speak with, sir?

_Br._ I would speak with one Security, that is prisoner
here.

_Ho._ Y'are welcome, sir. Stay there, I'll call him to
you. Master Security!

_Enter_ SECURITY.

_Sec._ Who calls?

_Ho._ Here's a gentleman would speak with you.

_Sec._ What is he? Is't one that grafts my forehead
now I am in prison, and comes to see how the horns
shoot up and prosper? 10

_Ho._ You must pardon him, sir; the old man is a little
crazed with his imprisonment.

_Sec._ What say you to me, sir? Look you here.--My
learned counsel, Master Bramble! cry you mercy, sir!
When saw you my wife?

_Br._ She is now at my house, sir; and desired me
that I would come to visit you, and inquire of you your
case, that we might work some means to get you forth. 18

_Sec._ My case,[113] Master Bramble, is stone walls and
iron grates; you see it, this is the weakest part on't.
And for getting me forth, no means but hang myself,
and so to be carried forth, from which they have here
bound me in intolerable bands.

_Br._ Why, but what is't you are in for, sir?

_Sec._ For my sins, for my sins, sir, whereof marriage is
the greatest. O, had I never married, I had never
known this purgatory, to which hell is a kind of cool
bath in respect; my wife's confederacy, sir, with old
Touchstone, that she might keep her jubilee and the
feast of her new moon. Do you understand me, sir? 30

_Enter_ QUICKSILVER.

_Qu._ Good sir, go in and talk with him. The light
does him harm, and his example will be hurtful to the
weak prisoners. Fie! father Security, that you'll be still
so profane! Will nothing humble you?

[_Exeunt_ SECURITY, BRAMBLE, _and_
HOLDFAST.[114]

_Enter two_ Prisoners, _with a_ Friend.

_Fr._ What's he?

_1st Pr._ O, he is a rare young man! Do you not
know him?

_Fr._ Not I. I never saw him, I can remember.

_2nd Pr._ Why, it is he that was the gallant prentice of
London--Master Touchstone's man. 40

_Fr._ Who?--Quicksilver?

_1st Pr._ Ay, this is he.

_Fr._ Is this he? They say he has been a gallant
indeed.

_1st Pr._ O, the royallest fellow that ever was bred up
i' the city! He would play you his thousand pound
a-night at dice; keep knights' and lords' company; go
with them to bawdy-houses; had his six men in a livery;
kept a stable of hunting-horses, and his wench in her
velvet gown and her cloth of silver. Here's one knight
with him here in prison. 51

_Fr._ And how miserably he is changed!

_1st Pr._ O, that's voluntary in him: he gave away all
his rich clothes as soon as ever he came in here among
the prisoners; and will eat o' the basket,[115] for humility.

_Fr._ Why will he do so?

_1st Pr._ Alas, he has no hope of life! He mortifies
himself. He does but linger on till the sessions.

_2nd Pr._ O, he has penned the best thing, that he calls
his Repentance or his _Last Farewell_, that ever you heard.
He is a pretty poet; and for prose--you would wonder
how many prisoners he has helped out, with penning
petitions for 'hem, and not take a penny. Look! this is
the knight in the rug gown. Stand by. 64

_Enter_[116] Sir PETRONEL _and_ BRAMBLE.

_Br._ Sir, for Security's case, I have told him. Say he
should be condemned to be carted or whipt for a bawd,
or so, why, I'll lay an execution on him o' two hundred
pound; let him acknowledge a judgment, he shall do it
in half an hour; they shall not at all fetch him out without
paying the execution, o' my word. 70

_Pe._ But can we not be bailed, Master Bramble?

_Br._ Hardly; there are none of the judges in town,
else you should remove yourself (in spite of him) with a
_habeas corpus_. But if you have a friend to deliver your
tale sensibly to some justice o' the town, that he may
have feeling of it (do you see), you may be bailed; for
as I understand the case, 'tis only done _in terrorem_; and
you shall have an action of false imprisonment against
him when you come out, and perhaps a thousand pound
costs. 80

_Enter_ Master WOLF.

_Qu._ How now, Master Wolf?--what news?--what
return?

_Wo._ 'Faith, bad all: yonder will be no letters received.
He says the sessions shall determine it. Only, Master
Deputy Golding commends him to you, and with this
token wishes he could do you other good.

_Qu._ I thank him. Good Master Bramble, trouble
our quiet no more; do not molest us in prison thus,
with your winding devices; pray you depart. For my
part, I commit my cause to Him that can succour me;
let God work His will. Master Wolf, I pray you let this
be distributed among the prisoners, and desire 'hem to
pray for us. 93

_Wo._ It shall be done, Master Francis.

_1st Pr._ An excellent temper!

_2nd Pr._ Now God send him good luck!

[_Exeunt_[117] _two_ Prisoners _and_
Friend.

_Pe._ But what said my father-in-law, Master Wolf?

_Enter_ HOLDFAST.

_Ho._ Here's one would speak with you, sir.

_Wo._ I'll tell you anon, Sir Petronel; who is't?

_Ho._ A gentleman, sir, that will not be seen. 100

_Enter_ GOLDING.

_Wo._ Where is he? Master Deputy! your worship is
welcome----

_Go._ Peace!

_Wo._ Away, sirrah!

[_Exit_[118] BRAMBLE.

_Go._ Good faith, Master Wolf, the estate of these
gentlemen, for whom you were so late and willing a suitor,
doth much affect me; and because I am desirous to do
them some fair office, and find there is no means to make
my father relent so likely as to bring him to be a
spectator of their miseries, I have ventured on a device,
which is, to make myself your prisoner: entreating you
will presently go report it to my father, and (feigning an
action at suit of some third person) pray him by this
token, that he will presently, and with all secrecy, come
hither for my bail; which train, if any, I know will bring
him abroad; and then, having him here, I doubt not
but we shall be all fortunate in the event. 117

_Wo._ Sir, I will put on my best speed to effect it.
Please you come in.

_Go._ Yes; and let me rest concealed, I pray you.

_Wo._ See here a benefit truly done, when it is done
timely, freely, and to no ambition.

[_Exeunt._

[113] Covering.

[114] Here and elsewhere there is no stage-direction in the old
ed.

[115] The basket containing the broken victuals collected for the
poor prisoners.

[116] Old ed. "_Enter_ Sir PETRONEL, BRAMBLE, QUICKSILVER, WOLF."

[117] The stage-direction in old ed. is simply "_Exeunt_."

[118] I give this stage-direction at a venture.

SCENE IV.

_Goldsmiths' Row._

_Enter_ TOUCHSTONE, Mistress TOUCHSTONE, GERTRUDE, MILDRED, SINDEFY,
_and_ WINIFRED.

_To._ I will sail by you, and not hear you, like the wise
Ulysses.

_Mi._ Dear father!

_Mist. T._ Husband!

_Ge._ Father!

_Wi. and Si._ Master Touchstone!

_To._ Away, sirens! I will immure myself against your
cries, and lock myself up to your lamentations.

_Mist. T._ Gentle husband, hear me!

_Ge._ Father, it is I, father; my Lady Flash. My sister
and I am friends. 11

_Mi._ Good father!

_Wi._ Be not hardened, good Master Touchstone!

_Si._ I pray you, sir, be merciful!

_To._ I am deaf; I do not hear you; I have stopped
mine ears with shoemakers' wax, and drunk Lethe and
mandragora[119] to forget you. All you speak to me I
commit to the air.

_Enter_ WOLF.

_Mi._ How now, Master Wolf?

_Wo._ Where's Master Touchstone? I must speak
with him presently; I have lost my breath for haste. 21

_Mi._ What is the matter, sir? Pray all be well!

_Wo._ Master Deputy Golding is arrested upon an
execution, and desires him presently to come to him,
forthwith.

_Mi._ Ay me! do you hear, father?

_To._ Tricks, tricks, confederacy, tricks! I have 'hem in
my nose--I scent 'hem!

_Wo._ Who's that? Master Touchstone?

_Mist. T._ Why, it is Master Wolf himself, husband. 30

_Mi._ Father!

_To._ I am deaf still, I say. I will neither yield to the
song of the siren nor the voice of the hyena,[120] the tears
of the crocodile nor the howling o' the Wolf. Avoid my
habitation, monsters!

_Wo._ Why, you are not mad, sir? I pray you look
forth, and see the token I have brought you, sir.

_To._ Ha! what token is it?

_Wo._ Do you know it, sir?

_To._ My son Golding's ring! Are you in earnest,
Master Wolf? 41

_Wo._ Ay, by my faith, sir. He is in prison, and
required me to use all speed and secrecy to you.

_To._ My cloak, there (pray you be patient). I am
plagued for my austerity. My cloak! At whose suit,
Master Wolf?

_Wo._ I'll tell you as we go, sir.

[_Exeunt._

[119] A powerful soporific.

[120] See Topsel's _History of Fourfooted Beasts_, ed. 1658,
p. 341.

SCENE V.

_The Compter._

_Enter two_ Prisoners _and_ Friend.

_Fr._ Why, but is his offence such as he cannot hope of
life?

_1st Pr._ Troth, it should seem so; and 'tis great pity,
for he is exceeding penitent.

_Fr._ They say he is charged but on suspicion of felony
yet.

_2nd Pr._ Ay, but his master is a shrewd fellow; he'll
prove great matter against him.

_Fr._ I'd as lieve as anything I could see his _Farewell_.

_1st Pr._ O, 'tis rarely written; why, Toby may get him
to sing it to you; he's not curious to anybody. 11

_2nd Pr._ O no! He would that all the world should
take knowledge of his repentance, and thinks he merits
in't the more shame he suffers.

_1st Pr._ Pray thee, try what thou canst do.

_2nd Pr._ I warrant you he will not deny it, if he be
not hoarse with the often repeating of it.

[_Exit._

_1st Pr._ You never saw a more courteous creature than
he is, and the knight too: the poorest prisoner of the
house may command 'hem. You shall hear a thing
admirably penned. 21

_Fr._ Is the knight any scholar too?

_1st Pr._ No, but he will speak very well, and discourse
admirably of running horses and White-Friars, and
against bawds; and of cocks; and talk as loud as a
hunter, but is none.

_Enter_ WOLF _and_ TOUCHSTONE.

_Wo._ Please you, stay here; I'll call his worship down
to you. 28

[_Exit_ WOLF.

_Re-enter_[121] WOLF _with_ GOLDING, QUICKSILVER,
Sir PETRONEL, _and_ SECURITY.

_1st Pr._ See, he has brought him, and the knight too;
salute him, I pray. Sir, this gentleman, upon our report,
is very desirous to hear some piece of your _Repentance_.

_Qu._ Sir, with all my heart; and, as I told Master
Toby, I shall be glad to have any man a witness of it.
And the more openly I profess it, I hope it will appear
the heartier, and the more unfeigned.

_To._ Who is this?--my man Francis, and my son-in-law?

_Qu._ Sir, it is all the testimony I shall leave behind me
to the world, and my master that I have so offended.

_Fr._ Good, sir! 40

_Qu._ I writ it when my spirits were oppressed.

_Pe._ Ay, I'll be sworn for you, Francis.

_Qu._ It is in imitation of Mannington's,[122] he that was
hanged at Cambridge, that cut off the horse's head at
a blow.

_Fr._ So, sir!

_Qu._ To the tune of "I wail in woe, I plunge in pain."

_Pe._ An excellent ditty it is, and worthy of a new tune.

_Qu._ In Cheapside, famous for gold and plate,
Quicksilver I did dwell of late; 50
I had a master good and kind,
That would have wrought me to his mind.
He bade me still, Work upon that,
But, alas! I wrought I knew not what.
He was a Touchstone black, but true,
And told me still what would ensue;
Yet woe is me! I would not learn;
I saw, alas! but could not discern!

_Fr._ Excellent, excellent well!

_Go._ O let him alone: he is taken already. 60

_Qu._ I cast my coat and cap away,
I went in silks and satins gay;
False metal of good manners I
Did daily coin unlawfully.
I scorn'd my master, being drunk;
I kept my gelding and my punk;
And with a knight, Sir Flash by name,
Who now is sorry for the same,--

_Pe._ I thank you, Francis.

[_Qu._] I thought by sea to run away, 70
But Thames and tempest did me stay.

_To._ This cannot be feigned, sure. Heaven pardon
my severity! The ragged colt may prove a good horse.

_Go._ How he listens, and is transported! He has
forgot me.

_Qu._ Still Eastward-ho was all my word:
But westward I had no regard,
Nor never thought what would come after,
As did, alas! his youngest daughter.
At last the black ox trod o' my foot,[123] 80
And I saw then what long'd unto 't;
Now cry I, "Touchstone, touch me still,
And make me current by thy skill."

_To._ And I will do it, Francis.

_Wo._ Stay him, Master Deputy; now is the time: we
shall lose the song else.

_Fr._ I protest it is the best that ever I heard.

_Qu._ How like you it, gentlemen?

_All._ O admirable, sir!

_Qu._ This stanze now following, alludes to the story of
Mannington, from whence I took my project for my
invention. 92

_Fr._ Pray you go on, sir.

_Qu._ O Mannington, thy stories show,
Thou cutt'st a horse-head off at a blow!
But I confess, I have not the force
For to cut off the head of a horse;
Yet I desire this grace to win,
That I may cut off the horse-head of Sin,
And leave his body in the dust 100
Of sin's highway and bogs of lust,
Whereby I may take Virtue's purse,
And live with her for better, for worse.

_Fr._ Admirable, sir, and excellently conceited!

_Qu._ Alas, sir!

_To._ Son Golding and Master Wolf, I thank you: the
deceit is welcome, especially from thee, whose charitable
soul in this hath shown a high point of wisdom and
honesty. Listen, I am ravished with his repentance,
and could stand here a whole prenticeship to hear
him. 111

_Fr._ Forth, good sir.

_Qu._ This is the last, and the _Farewell_.--
Farewell, Cheapside, farewell, sweet trade
Of Goldsmiths all, that never shall fade;
Farewell, dear fellow prentices all,
And be you warnèd by my fall:
Shun usurers, bawds, and dice, and drabs,
Avoid them as you would French scabs.
Seek not to go beyond your tether, 120
But cut your thongs unto your leather:
So shall you thrive by little and little,
'Scape Tyburn, Counters, and the Spital!

_To._ And 'scape them shalt thou, my penitent and
dear Francis!

_Qu._ Master!

_Pe._ Father!

_To._ I can no longer forbear to do your humility right.
Arise, and let me honour your repentance with the
hearty and joyful embraces of a father and friend's love.
Quicksilver, thou hast eat into my breast, Quicksilver,
with the drops of thy sorrow, and killed the desperate
opinion I had of thy reclaim. 133

_Qu._ O, sir, I am not worthy to see your worshipful face!

_Pe._ Forgive me, father.

_To._ Speak no more; all former passages are forgotten;
and here my word shall release you. Thank this worthy
brother, and kind friend, Francis.--Master Wolf, I am
their bail.

[_A shout in the prison._

_Sec._ Master Touchstone! Master Touchstone!

_To._ Who's that?

_Wo._ Security, sir.

_Sec._ Pray you, sir, if you'll be won with a song, hear
my lamentable tune too! 144

SONG.

O Master Touchstone,
My heart is full of woe;
Alas, I am a cuckold!
And why should it be so?
Because I was a usurer
And bawd, as all you know, 150
For which, again I tell you,
My heart is full of woe.

_To._ Bring him forth, Master Wolf, and release his
bands. This day shall be sacred to mercy and the mirth
of this encounter in the Counter. See, we are encountered
with more suitors!

_Enter_ Mistress TOUCHSTONE, GERTRUDE, MILDRED,
SINDEFY, WINIFRED, _&c._

Save your breath, save your breath! All things have
succeeded to your wishes: and we are heartily satisfied
in their events.

_Ge._ Ah, runaway, runaway! have I caught you?
And how has my poor knight done all this while? 161

_Pe._ Dear lady-wife, forgive me!

_Ge._ As heartily as I would be forgiven, knight. Dear
father, give me your blessing, and forgive me too; I ha'
been proud and lascivious, father; and a fool, father;
and being raised to the state of a wanton coy thing,
called a lady, father; have scorned you, father, and my
sister, and my sister's velvet cap too; and would make
a mouth at the city as I rid through it; and stop mine
ears at Bow-bell. I have said your beard was a base
one, father; and that you looked like Twierpipe the
taberer; and that my mother was but my midwife. 172

_Mist. T._ Now, God forgi' you, child madam!

_To._ No more repetitions. What else is wanting to
make our harmony full?

_Go._ Only this, sir, that my fellow Francis make amends
to Mistress Sindefy with marriage.

_Qu._ With all my heart.

_Go._ And Security give her a dower, which shall be all
the restitution he shall make of that huge mass he hath
so unlawfully gotten. 181

_To._ Excellently devised! a good motion![124] What
says Master Security?

_Sec._ I say anything, sir, what you'll ha' me say. Would
I were no cuckold!

_Wi._ Cuckold, husband? Why, I think this wearing
of yellow[125] has infected you. 187

_To._ Why, Master Security, that should rather be a
comfort to you than a corasive. If you be a cuckold,
it's an argument you have a beautiful woman to your
wife; then you shall be much made of; you shall have
store of friends, never want money; you shall be eased of
much o' your wedlock pain, others will take it for you.
Besides, you being a usurer (and likely to go to hell),
the devils will never torment you: they'll take you for
one o' their own race. Again, if you be a cuckold, and
know it not, you are an innocent; if you know it and
endure it, a true martyr. 198

_Sec._ I am resolved, sir. Come hither, Winny.

_To._ Well, then, all are pleased, or shall be anon.
Master Wolf, you look hungry, methinks; have you no
apparel to lend Francis to shift him?

_Qu._ No, sir, nor I desire none; but here make it my
suit, that I may go home through the streets in these, as
a spectacle, or rather an example to the children of
Cheapside.

_To._ Thou hast thy wish. Now, London, look about,
And in this moral see thy glass run out:
Behold the careful father, thrifty son,
The solemn deeds which each of us have done; 210
The usurer punish'd, and from fall so steep
The prodigal child reclaim'd, and the lost sheep.

[121] Old ed. "_Enter_ QUICKSILVER, Sir PETRONEL, _&c._"

[122] There was entered in the Stationers' Books, on 7th November
1576, "A woeful Ballad made by Mr. George Mannynton, an houre
before he suffered at Cambridge-castell." The ballad is printed
in Ritson's _Ancient Songs and Ballads_ (ed. 1877), pp.
188-191. It begins:--
"I wayle in woe, I plundge in payne,
With sorrowing sobbes I do complayne,
With wallowing waves I wishe to dye,
I languish sore here as I lye," &c.

[123] "The black ox trod o' my foot"--a proverbial expression,
meaning "trouble came upon me."

[124] Proposition.

[125] The colour of (1) jealousy, (2) Security's prison-dress.

EPILOGUS.

[_Qu._] Stay, sir, I perceive the multitude are gather'd
together to view our coming out at the Counter. See
if the streets and the Fronts of the Houses be not thick
with people, and the windows fill'd with ladies as on
the solemn day of the pageant!
O may you find in this our pageant here
The same contentment which you came to seek,
And as that show but draws you once a year 220
May this attract you hither once a week.

[_Exeunt omnes._

THE
INSATIATE COUNTESS.

_The Insatiate Countesse. A Tragedie: Acted at White-Fryers. Written
By Iohn Marston. London: Printed by T. S. for Thomas Archer, and
are to be sold at his Shop in Popes-head-Pallace, neere the
Royall-Exchange._ 1613. 4to.

_The Insatiate Countesse. A Tragedie: Acted at White-Fryers. Written
By Iohn Marston. London, Printed by I. N. for Hugh Perrie, and
are to be sould at his shop, at the signe of the Harrow in
Brittaines-burse._ 1631. 4to.

STORY OF THE PLAY.

Isabella, Countess of Suevia, being left a widow, proceeds with indecent haste to take a second husband, Roberto, Count of Cyprus. At a masqued dance given by the bridegroom's friends on the day of the wedding, Isabella falls in love with one of the masquers, whom she discovers to be the Count of Massino [Messina?]. She sends him a letter in which she proffers her love and summons him to her presence. With her paramour she flies to Pavia, where she meets Massino's friend Gniaca, Count of Gaza or Gazia [Gaeta?]. The Insatiate Countess immediately falls in love with Gniaca, who--though at first unwilling to wrong his friend--quickly yields to her blandishments. Returning from a hunting expedition Massino is denied admittance by Isabella. He gives vent to his indignation by penning bitter satirical verses, in which he proclaims to the world her inordinate lust. Enraged at this exposure, Isabella incites Gniaca to slay Massino. An encounter ensues between Gniaca and Massino, but after a few passes the combatants put up their weapons, hold a friendly colloquy, and part in peace. Isabella is furious and resolves to destroy both Gniaca and Massino. She employs the services of a Spanish colonel, Don Sago, who at first sight of her has been violently inflamed with passion. The colonel shoots Massino dead, is arrested, and, being brought before the Duke of Medina, makes full confession. Isabella is condemned to be beheaded. At the place of execution a strange friar requests that he may have private speech with her. The friar is Count Roberto, who has come to pronounce forgiveness, and bid a last farewell, to his erring wife.

There is also an underplot to the play. Rogero and Claridiana, between whom an hereditary feud exists, celebrate their marriage on the same day. As they return from the church an altercation arises between the bridegrooms, but by the intervention of friends they are at length induced to declare that they will lay aside their hatred. These professions are marked with little sincerity, for the new-made friends are intent upon cornuting one another. The wives, who are excellent friends, take counsel together and devise a scheme by which the husbands, while taking their lawful pleasure, imagine that they are tasting the sweets of adultery. Claridiana, announcing that he has gone to his farm in the country, repairs by appointment to the house of Rogero, where, under the impression that he is enjoying Rogero's wife Thais, he lies with his own wife Abigail; and Rogero, under Claridiana's roof lies with Thais in the belief that he is clipping Abigail. While these night-sports are in progress, Mendoza, nephew of the Duke Amago, holds a clandestine interview with the widowed Lady Lentulus. As he is mounting to her chamber, the rope-ladder breaks. Injured by the fall, he drags himself some distance from the house to a spot where he is discovered by the watch. It is supposed that he has met with foul play; a search is instituted; Rogero is discovered by the watch in the house of Claridiana, and Claridiana in the house of Rogero. Charged before the Duke Amago with the murder of Mendoza they declare themselves guilty--preferring to be hanged as murderers rather than to be derided as cuckolds. Mendoza, recovering from the effects of his fall, asserts (in order to save the honour of the Lady Lentulus) that he met his injuries in trying to steal some jewels from her house. The Duke, who is in a maze of wonder at the strange statements and confessions, condemns the three prisoners to be executed, hoping by this means to extort from them the truth. On the day fixed for the execution Thais and Abigail make an explanation to the Duke; and their husbands--finding that they have not been cuckolded--are glad to spare the hangman his labour. How Mendoza fares is not stated.

_DRAMATIS PERSONÆ_.[126]

AMAGO, _Duke of Venice_.
DUKE OF MEDINA.
ROBERTO, _Count of Cyprus_.
Count MASSINO.
GUIDO, _Count of Arsena_.
GNIACA, _Count of Gazia_.
MENDOZA FOSCARI, _nephew to_ AMAGO.
Signior MIZALDUS.
CLARIDIANA.
ROGERO.
DON SAGO, _a Spanish Colonel_.
Cardinal.

ISABELLA, _the Insatiate Countess_.
Lady LENTULUS, _a widow_.
ABIGAIL, _wife to_ CLARIDIANA.
THAIS, _wife to_ ROGERO.
ANNA, _waiting-woman to_ ISABELLA.
Senators, captain, lieutenant, soldiers, messenger, executioner, &c.

SCENE--VENICE AND PAVIA.

[126] There is no list of characters in the old editions.

THE
INSATIATE COUNTESS.