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TO THE READER OF

MR WILLIAM DAVENANT'S PLAY.

It hath been said of old, that plays are feasts,
Poets the cooks, and the spectators guests,
The actors waiters: from this simile
Some have derived an unsafe liberty,

To use their judgments as their tastes; which chuse,
Without controul, this dish, and that refuse:
But wit allows not this large privilege,
Either you must confess, or feel its edge;
Nor shall you make a current inference
If you transfer your reason to your sense :
Things are distinct, and must the same appear
To every piercing eye, or well-tuned ear.
Though sweets with your's, sharps best with my

taste meet,

Both must agree this meat's or sharp or sweet: But if I scent a stench or a perfume,

Whilst you smell nought at all, I may presume
You have that sense imperfect: so you may
Affect a sad, merry, or humorous play,
If, though the kind distaste or please, the good
And bad be by your judgment understood:
But if, as in this play, where with delight
I feast my Epicurean appetite

With relishes so curious, as dispense

The utmost pleasure to the ravished sense,
You should profess that you can nothing meet
That hits your taste, either with sharp or sweet,
But cry out, 'Tis insipid; your bold tongue
May do it's master, not the author, wrong;
For men of better palate will, by it,
Take the just elevation of your wit.

T. CAREW.

THE PROLOGUE.

Bless me, you kinder stars! how are we throng'd! Alas! whom hath our long-sick poet wrong'd, That he should meet together, in one day, A session, and a faction at his play? To judge, and to condemn; for't cannot be, Amongst so many here, all should agree. Then 'tis to such vast expectation raised, As it were to be wonder'd at, not praised; And this, good faith, sir poet (if I've read Customs, or men) strikes you and your muse dead. Conceive now too, how much, how oft each ear Hath surfeited, and this our hemisphere, With various, pure, eternal wit; and then, My tine young comic sir, you're kill'd again. But 'bove the mischief of these fears, a sort

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Y. Pul. Welcome on shore, Meager; give me
thy hand;

'Tis a true one, and will no more forsake
A bond, or bill, than a good sword; a hand
That will shift for the body, till the laws
Provide for both.

Mea. Old wine, and new clothes, sir, Make you wanton; d'you not see Pert, my comrade?

Y. Pal. Ambiguous Pert! hast thou danced
to the drum too?

Could a taff'ta scarf, a long estridge wing,
A stiff iron doublet, and a brazil pole,
Tempt thee from cambric sheets, fine active
thighs,

From caudles where the precious amber swims? Pert. Faith, we have been to kill, we know not whom,

:

Nor why led on to break a commandment,
With the consent of custom and the laws.

Mea. Mine was a certain inclination, sir,
To do mischief, where good men of the jury,
And a dull congregation of grey-beards,
Might urge no tedious statute 'gainst my life.
Y. Pal. Nothing but honour could seduce thee,
Pert!

Honour! which is the hope of the youthful,
And the old soldier's wealth, a jealousy
To the noble, and mystery to the wise.

Pert. It was, sir, no geographical fancy,
('Cause in our maps I liked this region here
More than that country lying there) made me
= Partial which to fight for.

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Y. Pal. True, sage Pert.

What is't to thee, whether one Don Diego
A prince, or Hans van Holme, fritter-seller
Of Bombell, do conquer that parapet,
Redoubt, or town, which thou ne'er saw'st before?
Pert. Not a brass thimble to me; but ho-

nour!

Y. Pul. Why right; else wherefore shouldst thou bleed for him,

Whose money, wine, nor wench, thou ne'er hast used?

Or why destroy some poor root-eating soldier,
That never gave thee the lye, denied to pledge
Thy cockatrice's health, ne'er spit upon
Thy dog, jeered thy spur-leather, or returned
Thy tooth-pick ragged, which he borrowed whole?
Pert. Never, to my knowledge.
Mea. Comrade! 'tis time-

Y. Pal. What, to unship your trunks at Bil-
lingsgate?

Fierce Meager! why such haste? do not I know, That a mouse yoked to a pease-cod may draw, With the frail cordage of one hair, your goods About the world?

Pert. Why we have linen, sir.

Y. Pal. As much, sir, as will fill a tinder-box, Or make a frog a shirt. I like not, friends, This quiet, modest posture of your shoulders. Why stir you not, as you were practising To fence? or do you hide your cattle, least The skipper make you pay their passage over? Pert. Know, Pallatine, truth is a naked lady, She will shew all. Meager and I have notY. Pal. The treasure of Saint Mark's, I believe, sir;

I

Though you are as rich as cast serving-men,]

Sir William Davenant seems to have borrowed the hint of this plot from Beaumont and Fletcher's

Wit at several Weapons.

1

Saint Mark's-at Venice.

Or bawds led thrice into captivity.
Pert. Thou hast a heart of the right stamp;

I find

It is not comely in thine eyes, to see
Us sons of war walk by the pleasant vines
Of Gascony, as we believed the grapes
Forbidden fruit; sneak through a tavern with
Remorse, as we had read the Alcoran,
And made it our best faith..

Mea. And abstain flesh,

As if our English beef were all reserved
For sacrifice.

Pert. Whilst colon2 keeps more noise
Than mariners at plays, or apple-wives
That wrangle for a sieve.

Mea. Contribute, come.

Y. Pal. Stand there, close, on your lives: here,
in this house,

Lives a rich old hen, whose young egg (though not
Of her own laying) I have in the embers:
She may prove a morsel for a discreet mouth,
If the kind fates have but the leisure to
Betray the old one.

Pert. Pallatine,

No plots upon generation; we two
Have fasted so long, that we cannot think
Of begetting any thing, unless,
Like cannibals, we might eat our own issue.

Y. Pal. I say close; shrink in your morions;3 go.
Mea. Why hidden thus? a soldier may appear.
Y. Pal. Yes, in a suttler's hut on the pay-day;
But do you know the silence of this house,
The gravity and awe? here dwells a lady,
That hath not seen a street since good king Harry
Called her to a mask; she is more devout
Than a weaver of Banbury,+ that hopes
To entice heaven, by singing, to make him lord
Of twenty looms. I never saw ber yet;
Aud to arrive at my preferment first
In your sweet company, will (I take it)
Add but little to my hopes. Retire; go.

[They step aside, whilst he calls between the hangings.

Pert. We shall obey; but do not tempt us now With sweetmeats for the nether palate; do not. Y. Pal. What Lucy! Luce! now is the old beldam

Misleading her to a cushion, where she
Must pray, and sigh, and fast, until her knees
Grow smaller than her knuckles. Lucy! Luce!
No hope; she is undone; she'll number o'er
As many orisons, as if she had

A bushel of beads to her rosary.

Lucy! my April love! my mistress, speak !

Enter LUCY.

Lucy. Pallatine, for heaven's sake keep in you voice;

My cruel aunt will hear, and I am lost.

Y. Pal. What can she hear when her old ea are stuff'd

With as much warm wax as will seal nine leases
What a pox does she list'ning upon earth?
Is't not time for her t' affect privacy,

To creep into a close dark vault, there gossip
With worms, and such small tame creatures a
Heaven

Provided to accompany old people?

Lucy. Still better'd unto worse! but that my

heart

Consents not to disfigure thee, thou wouldst be

torn

To pieces, numberless as sand, or as
The doubts of guilt or love, in cowards are.

Y. Pal. How now, Luce! from what strange coast this storm! ha?

Lucy. Thou dost out-drink the youth of Norway at

Their marriage feasts, out-swear a puny gamester,

When his first misfortune rages out in quarrel;
One that rides post, and is stopt by a cart:
Thy walking hours are later in the night
Than those which drawers, traitors, or constables
Themselves do keep; for watchmen know thee
better

Than their lanthorns; and here's your surgeon's bill,

Your kind thrift (I thank you) hath sent it me
To pay, as if the poor exhibition
My aunt allows for aprons, would maintain
You in searcloths.- [Gives him a Paper.
Mea. Can the daughters of Brabant
Talk thus, when Younker-gheck leads them to
stove?

Pert. I say, Meager, there is a small parcel
Of man, that rebels more than all the rest
Of his body; and I shall need (if I
Stay here) no elixir of beef to exalt
Nature, though I were leaner than a goat.
Y. Pal. This surgeon's a rogue, Luce; a fel
low, Luce,

That hath no more care of a gentleman's
Credit, than of the lint he hath twice used.
Lucy. Well, sir, but what's that instrument he
names?

Y. Pal. He writes down here for a tool of in jection,

2 Colin-The colon is the greatest and widest of the human intestines. S.

3 Morions--or murrions. See note 11 on The 2d Part of the Honest Whore, Dodsley's edit.

4 Than a weaver of Banbury-See note 50 to The Ordinary, ditto.

Luce, a small water-engine, which I bought
For my tailor's child to squirt at 'prentices.
Lucy. Aye, sir, he sins more against wit than
Heaven,

That knows not how t'excuse what he hath done:
I shall be old at twenty, Pallatine;
My grief to see thy manners and thy mind,
Hath wrought so much upon my heart.

Y. Pal. I'd as lieve keep our marriage-supper
In a church-yard, and beget our children
In a coffin, as hear thee prophesy.

Luce, thou art drunk, Luce; far gone in almondmilk:

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Lucy. Aye, there's your business.

Y. Pal. It is the business of the world: injuries grow

To get it; justice sits for the same end;
Men are not wise without it, for it makes
Wisdom known; and to be a fool, and poor,
Is next t' old achs and bad fame; 'tis worse
Than to have six new creditors, they each
Twelve children, and not bread enough to make
The landlord a toast, when he calls for ale
And rent. Think on that, and rob thy aunt's
trunks

Ere she hath time to make an inventory.

Pert. A cunning pioneer; he works to the

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5 Debosh'd.-The 4to and folio read debash'd; debosh'd has the same meaning as debauch'd, and the word occurs in The Wandering Jew, 1640, p. 27.

"The more I strive to love my husband, the more his deboish'd courses begets my hate."

Again in Fennor's Compters Commonwealth, 1617, p. 27. :-For most commonly some knave or deboisht fellow, lurch the fooles their sons," &c.

See also Mr Steevens's note on The Tempest, A. 3. S. 2.

• Whinyard, a sword. So in Edward the Third, A. 1. S. 2:

7 Adam Bell,

"Nor from their button'd, tawny, leathern belts,
"Dismiss their biting whinyards,—till your king
"Cry out enough," &c.

—an outlaw, celebrated for his skill in archery. Sec Dr Percy's Reliques of Ancient Poetry, vol. 1. p. 143.

8 Carcanets," A carcanet seems to have been a necklace set with stones, or strung with pearls." It is derived from the old French word carcan, whose diminutive was carcanet. See Cotgrave voce carcan. Carcanets are frequently mentioned by our ancient dramatic writers as in Cynthia's Revels, Induction :— "Makes her dote upon him, give him jewels, bracelets, carkenets," &c.

Ibid. A. 4. S. 3. :

"If your ladyships want embroidered gowns, tires of any fashion, rebatues, jewels, or carkanets, any thing whatsoever," &c.

Marston's Antonio and Mellida, p. 2. A. 1. S. 2. :—

"No, Lucio, my deare lord's wise, and knowes
"That tinsill glitter, or rich purfled robes,
"Curled haires, hung full of sparkling carcanets,
"Are not the true adornements of a wife."

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"That did adorn your neck of equal value."

See also the notes of Dr Johnson, Mr Steevens, and Mr Warton on The Comedy of Errors, A. 3. S. 1. 9 Spoons." It was the custom formerly for the sponsors at christenings, to offer gilt spoons as a present to the child. These spoons were called apostle spoons, because the figures of the apostles were

Thy mother write thee illegitimate.
See me no more; I will not stay to bless
My gift, lest I should teach my patience suffer
Till I convert it into sin.

[Exit.

Y. Pal. Temptations will not thrive. This baggage sleeps

Cross-legg'd, and the devil has no more power O'er that charm, than dead men o'er their lewd heirs ;

I must marry her, and spend my revenue

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To a feast.

Thwack. At which serjeants and their yeomen

In cradles, pins, and sope; 10 that's the end of Must be no waiters, Pallatine, lest some

all

That 'scape a deep river and a tall bough.

Mea. Pallatine, how much?

Pert. Honourable Pall!

Y. Pal. Gentlemen, you must accept without
'gaging

Your corporal oaths to repay in three days.
Pert. Not we, Pall, in three jubilees; fear

not.

Y. Pal. Nor shall you charge me with loud
vehemence

(Thrice before company) to wait you in
My chamber such a night; for then a certain
Drover of the south comes to pay you money.
Mea. On our new faiths.
Pert. On our allegiance, Pall.

Y. Pal. Go then-shift, and brush your skins
well; d'you hear?

Meet me at the new play, fair and perfumed:
There are strange words hang on the lips of ru-

mour.

Pert. Language of joy, dear Pall.
Y. Pal. This day is come

To town, the minion of the womb, my lads,
My elder brother, and he moves like some
Assyrian prince; his chariots measure leagues;
Witty as youthful poets in their wine;
Bold as a centaur at a feast, and kind
As virgins that were ne'er beguiled with love;

O'the guests pretend business. How dost like

me?

E. Pal. As one old women shall no more avoid,

Than they can warm furs or muskadel.

Thwack. Pallatine, to have a volatile ache,
That removes oftener than the Tartars' camp;
To have a stitch that sucks a man awry,
Till he shew crooked as a chesnut bough,
Or stand in the deformed guard of a fencer;
To have these hid in flesh, that has lived sinful
Fifty long years, yet husband so much strength
As could convey me hither, fourscore miles,
On a design of wit and glory; may

Be register'd for a strange northern act.

E. Pal. I cannot boast those noble maladies As yet; but time, dear knight, as I have heard, May make man's knowledge bold upon himself. We travel in the grand cause. These smooth

rags,

These jewels too that seem to smile ere they
Betray, are certain silly snares, in which
Your lady-wits, and their wise compeers-male,
May chance be caught.

Enter Younger PALLATINE.

Y. Pal. Your welcome, noble brother,
Must be hereafter spoke, for I have lost,
With glad haste to find you, much of my breath.

carved on the tops of the handles. Such as were at once opulent and generous gave the whole twelve; those who were either more moderately rich, or liberal, escaped at the expence of the four Evangelists; or even sometimes contented themselves with presenting one spoon only, which exhibited the figure of any saint, in honour of whom the child received its name." Mr Steevens's note to King Henry VIII, A. 5. S. 2. where several instances of the mention of these spoons are exhibited.

10 In cradles, pins, and sope.—So in The Lover's Progress, A. 4. :—

"Must I now

Have sour sauce after sweet meats? and be driven

To levy half a crown a week, besides

Clouts, sope, and candles, for my heir apparent."

Again in The Bashful Lover, by Massinger, A. 3. S. 1. :

"Should you put it too for sope and candles, though he sell his flock for it, the baby must have his dug."

A Chast Mayd in Cheape-side, p. 25. :

"Halfe our gettings must run in sugar sops,

And nurses wages now, besides many a pound of sope
And tallow: we have need to get loynes of mutton still,
To save suct to change for candles."

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