Then hemm'd she out (to clear her voice it should seem),
And with a majesty addrest herself

To encounter all their accusations

Pardon me, Master Arden, I can no more;

This fighting at my heart makes short my wind.
Ard. Come, we are almost now at Raynum Down;
Your pretty tale beguiles the weary way,

I would you were in ease to tell it out.1

[They are set upon by the Ruffians.

[Act iii., Sc. 6.]

THE [A] CHASTE MAID IN CHEAPSIDE. A COMEDY. BY THOMAS MIDDLETON, 1620. [PUBLISHED 1630: PRODUCED PROBABLY FIFTEEN YEARS EARLIER]

Citizen to a Knight complimenting his Daughter.

Pish, stop your words, good Knight, 'twill make her blush else,
Which are wound too high for the Daughters of the Freedom;
Honour, and Faithful Servant! they are compliments
For the worthy Ladies of White Hall or Greenwich;

Ev'n plain, sufficient, subsidy words serve us, Sir.

[Act i., Sc. 1.2]

Master Allwit (a Wittol) describes his contentment.

I am like a man

Finding a table furnish'd to his hand,

(As mine is still for me), prays for the Founder,

Bless the Right worshipful, the good Founder's life :

3

I thank him, he has maintain'd my house these ten years;

Not only keeps my Wife, but he keeps me.

He gets me all my children, and pays the nurse

Weekly or monthly, puts me to nothing,

Rent, nor Church dues, not so much as the Scavenger;
The happiest state that ever man was born to.
I walk out in a morning, come to breakfast,
Find excellent cheer, a good fire in winter;
Look in my coal-house, about Midsummer eve,

[See also pages 569 and 589.]

2 [Middleton's Works, ed. Bullen, vol. v.]

3 A rich old Knight, who keeps Allwit's Wife.

That's full, five or six chaldron new laid up;
Look in my back yard, I shall find a steeple
Made up with Kentish faggots, which o'erlooks
The water-house and the windmills. I say nothing,
But smile, and pin the door. When she lies in,
(As now she's even upon the point of grunting),
A Lady lies not in like her; there's her imbossings,
Embroiderings, spanglings, and I know not what,
As if she lay with all the gaudy shops

In Gresham's Burse about her; then her restoratives,
Able to set up a young 'Pothecary,

And richly store the Foreman of a Drug shop;
Her sugars by whole loaves, her wines by rundlets.
I see these things, but like a happy man

I pay for none at all, yet fools think it mine;

I have the name, and in his gold I shine:

And where some merchants would in soul kiss hell
To buy a paradise for their wives, and dye
Their conscience in the blood of prodigal heirs,
To deck their Night-piece; yet, all this being done,
Eaten with jealousy to the inmost bone;

These torments stand I freed of. I am as clear
From jealousy of a wife, as from the charge.
O two miraculous blessings! 'tis the Knight
Has ta'en that labour quite out of my hands.
I may sit still, and play; he's jealous for me,
Watches her steps, sets spies. I live at ease.
He has both the cost and torment; when the string
Of his heart frets, I feed fat, laugh, or sing.

I'll

go

bid Gossips1 presently myself,
That's all the work I'll do; nor need I stir,
But that it is my pleasure to walk forth
And air myself a little; I am tyed

To nothing in this business; what I do
Is merely recreation, not constraint.

[Act i., Sc. 2.]

[Act ii., Sc. 2.]

Rescue from Bailiffs by the Watermen.

I had been taken by eight Serjeants,

But for the honest Watermen, I am bound to 'em.

1 To his Wife's Lying-in.

They are the most requiteful'st people living;
For, as they get their means by Gentlemen,
They're still the forward'st to help Gentlemen.
You heard how one 'scaped out of the Blackfriars 1
But awhile since from two or three varlets,

Came into the house with all their rapiers drawn,
As if they'd dance the sword-dance on the stage,
With candles in their hands, like Chandlers' Ghosts!
Whilst the poor Gentleman, so pursued and banded,
Was by an honest pair of oars safe landed.2

[Act iv., Sc. 3.]

[THE] LONDON CHANTICLEERS. A RUDE SKETCH OF A PLAY, PRINTED 1659, BUT EVIDENTLY MUCH OLDER

Song in praise of Ale.

I.

Submit, Bunch of Grapes,
To the strong Barley ear;
The weak Wine no longer
The laurel shall wear.

II.

Sack, and all drinks else,

Desist from the strife;

Ale's the only Aqua Vitæ,

And liquor of life.

III.

Then come, my boon fellows,

Let's drink it around;

It keeps us from grave,

Though it lays us on ground.

IV.

Ale's a Physician,

No Mountebank Bragger;

Can cure the chill Ague,

Though it be with the Stagger.

1 Alsatia, I presume. [Mr. Bullen suggests the theatre at Blackfriars.]

"[For other extracts from Middleton see note to page 144.]

FORTUNE BY LAND AND SEA. A COMEDY. BY T. HEYWOOD AND W. ROWLEY. [PUBLISHED 1655: PROBABLY WRITTEN BY 1603]

Old Forest forbids his Son to sup with some riotous gallants; who goes notwithstanding, and is slain.

SCENE. A Tavern.

RAINSWORTH, FOSTER, GOODWIN.

FOREST.

To them enters FRANK

Rain. Now, Frank, how stole you from your father's arms You have been school'd, no doubt. Fie, fie upon't.

Ere I would live in such base servitude

To an old greybeard; 'sfoot I'd hang myself.

1 The original distinction of Beer from the old Drink of our Forefathers, which was made without that ingredient.

2[Dodsley, ed. Hazlitt, vol. xii.]

A man cannot be merry, and drink drunk,

But he must be control'd by gravity.

Frank. O pardon him; you know, he is my father.

And what he doth is but paternal love.

Though I be wild, I'm not yet so past reason

His person to despise, though I his counsel
Cannot severely follow.

Rain. 'Sfoot, he is a fool.

Frank. A fool! you are a―

Fost. Nay, gentlemen

Frank. Yet I restrain my tongue,

Hoping you speak out of some spleenful rashness,
And no deliberate malice; and it may be

You are sorry that a word so unreverent,
To wrong so good an aged gentleman,
Should pass you unawares.

Rain. Sorry, Sir Boy! you will not take exceptions?
Frank. Not against you with willingness, whom I
Have loved so long. Yet you might think me a
Most dutiless and ungracious son to give

Smooth countenance unto my father's wrong.
Come, I dare swear

"Twas not your malice, and I

Let's frame some other talk.

take it so.

Hear, gentlemen—

Rain. But hear me, Boy! it seems, Sir, you are angry

Frank. Not thoroughly yet

Rain. Then what would anger thee?

Frank. Nothing from you.

Rain. Of all things under heaven

What would'st thou loathest have me do?

Frank. I would

Not have you wrong my reverent father; and

I hope you will not.

Rain. Thy father's an old dotard.

Frank. I would not brook this at a monarch's hand,

Much less at thine.

Rain. Aye, Boy? then take you that.

Frank. Oh, I am slain.

Good. Sweet Cuz, what have you done? Shift for yourself.

Rain. Away.

Enter Two DRAWERS.

[Exeunt.

1st Dr. Stay the gentlemen, they have killed a man!

O sweet Mr. Francis. One run to his father's.

2nd Dr. Hark, hark! I hear his father's voice below, 'tis ten to

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