WIT WITHOUT MONEY. A COMEDY. This Comedy is universally allowed to be the joint production of our Authors. The first edition was printed in 1639. It was the first play that was acted after the burning of the King's House in Drury Lane; a new prologue being then wrote for the occasion, by Mr. Dryden. About the year 1708, it was acted at the Queen's Theatre in the Haymarket, with alterations, and, as the title-page modestly asserts, amendments, by some Persons of Quality. It hath been since frequently represented at Covent-Garden Theatre. Unc. Runs lunatick, if you but talk of He can't be brought, now he has spent his own, Mer. This is something dangerous. States.] State and estate are generally used in the same sense throughout this play. No gent. that hus estate to use it, &c.] Mr. Seward reads, or rather writes, No gentleman that has estate's to use it; and says, he could not make sense of the passage, till he added the verb, which consists here of a single letter. Such an addition is certainly inelegant, and (as we think) unnecessary. The beginning of the Uncle's speech is a resumption of his last ; both summing up the romantick ideas of Valentine, in regard to property: All a common riches, all men bound to be his bailiffs--No gentleman that has estate to use it, &c. Mer. That's most certain. Unc. Yes, if he could stay there. Lac. It's most impossible; He will not look with any handsomeness Mer. Is he so strange to women? Unc. I know not what it is; a foolish glory He has got, I know not where, to balk those benefits; And yet he will converse and flatter 'em, Enter Fountain, Bellamore, Harebrain. Unc. Oh, their hopes are high, Sir. Hare. Let her stand sure; She falls before us else. Come, let's go seek Mer. This widow seems a gallant. And to her handsomeness she bears her state, Of a full means, and well she knows to use it. Unc. There's no hope of that, Sir. Mer. O' that condition, he had his mortgage in again. Unc. I would be had. Mer. Seek means, and see what I'll do; (However, let the money be paid in ;) I never sought a gentleman's undoing, You told me of another brother, 3 Into more manly uses, wit, and carriage.] Mr. Sympson would read wit and courage; taking, I believe, manly to signify couragious; but manly, both here and in the next scene, is the same as humane, or what is proper to the nature of man. Seward. Wit and carriage is certainly right, and confirmed by the whole tenor of the play. When Valentine is reproaching the Lovers (towards the conclusion of the third act) he says to them, who taught you manners, and apt carriage? Many other passages in the play likewise support this reading. And to her handsomness she bears her state reserv'd, and great fortune has made her mistress of a full means.] The want of attention to the metre here caused the former Editors to spoil the sense by giving an unmeaning epithet to Fortune. It may perhaps be asked, how the removal of a stop from one word to another can affect the measure; let it be plac'd with its former stop in its station as a verse, and every reader that has an ear will perceive its harshness, she bears her state Reserv'd, and great fortune has made her mistress Of a full means Remove the stop to its right place, and the verse recovers its harmony. They who would search the reason of this, must first know that the principal rule by which the English heroic verse is govern'd, is, that the even syllables, viz. the second, fourth, sixth, eighth, and tenth must have the accents upon them; and, secondly, that there is one only exception to this rule, viz. That where a pause precedes an odd syllable, there the odd syllable may have the accent. Thus in the case above, the first syllable of fortune is the fifth in the verse, and unless the pause imme diately precedes, it spoils the metre. All the writers upon the English measure that I have seen, have not only been very deficient for want of knowing this exception to the general rule above, but have fall'n into great errors, and condemned verses that were remarkably harmonious. Seward. 5 He had his mortgage in again.] He had, in this place, according to the old manner, signifies he should have. And in what my care may help, or my perWhen we meet next[suasions, Unc. Do but persuade him fairly; And for your money, mine, and these men's thanks too, And what we can be able Mer. You're most honest; You shall find me no less, and so I leave you. Prosper your business, friends! [Exit Mer. Unc. Pray Heav'n it may, Sir. Lance. Nay, if he will be mad, I'll be mad with him, And tell him that-I'll not spare him— His father kept good meat, good drink, good fellows, [bours welcome; Good hawks, good hounds, and bid his neigh- Must we turn tenants now (after we have liv'd Unc. You must be milder to him. And make him feel. [dens? Lance. I'll pinch him to the bones else. Val. (within) And tell the gentleman, I'll be with him presently. Say I want money too; I must not fail, boy. Lance. You will want clothes, I hope. Enter Valentine. Val. Bid the young courtier Repair to me anon; I'll read to him. Unc. He comes; be diligent, but not too Start him, but not affright him. [rugged; Val. Phew! are you there? [angry. Unc. We come to see you, nephew; be not Val. Why do you dog me thus, with these strange people? [more, Why, all the world shall never make me rich Nor master of these troubles. Ten. We beseech you, For our poor children's sake. Val. Who bid you get 'em? Have you not threshing work enough, but children Must be bang'd out o' th' sheaf too? Other men, With all their delicates, and healthful diets, Can get but wind-eggs: You, with a clove of garlick, [sour milk, A piece of cheese would break a saw, and Can mount like stallions; and I must maintain These tumblers! Lance. You ought to maintain us; we Have maintain'd you, and when you slept provided for you. [labours; Who bought the silk you wear? I think our Reckon, you'll find it so. Who found your horses, [verns, Perpetual pots of ale, maintain'd your taAnd who extol'd you in the half-crown boxes, Where you might sit and muster all the beau ties? [pies! We had no hand in these; no, we're all pup Your tenants base vexations! Val. Very well, Sir. Lance. Had you land, Sir, And honest men to serve your purposes, Honest and faithful, and will you run away from 'em, Betray yourself, and your poor tribe to misery ; Mortgage all us, like old cloaks? Where will you hunt next? You had a thousand acres, fair and open: The King's Bench is enclos'd, there's no good riding; [heed, Sir) The Counter's full of thorns and brakes (take And bogs; you'll quickly find what broth they're made of. Val. You're short and pithy. 8 Lance. They say you're a fine gentleman, And excellent judgment they report you have; a wit; [cloak with you, Keep yourself out o' th' rain, and take your Which by interpretation is your state, Sir, Or I shall think your fame belied you. You And may have means. [have money, Val. I prithee leave prating! Does my good lie within thy brain to further, Or my undoing in thy pity? Go, [horses, Go, get you home; there whistle to your And let them edify! Away, sow hemp, To hang yourselves withal! What am I to you, Or you to me? Am I your landlord, puppies? Unc. This is uncivil. 6 Who found your horses perpetual pots of ale.] This is evidently corrupt. Mr. Sympson conjectures, Who found your horses perpetual oats and hay? But as my correction seems more easy, and is confirm'd by Mr. Theobald's concurrence, I have ventured to insert it in the text. Seward. Mr. Seward reads, Who found you horses? The old reading, with only the insertion of a stop, conveys the same sense as Mr. Seward's amendment. 7 What broth they're made of] Mr. Sympson reads, with Mr. Seward's concurrence, You'll quickly find what both they're made of. We think broth the right word, meaning, You'll soon find what sort of liquid is in the bogs." After all, broth is a strange expression, but Mr. Sympson's reading is hard, and scarcely English. Keep yourself out o' th' rain, &c.] You are wise, keep you warm. 8 VOL. 1. 2 L [dings; Val. More unmerciful you, To vex me with these bacon-broth and pudThey are the walking shapes of all my sorrows! 3 Ten. Your father's worship would have us'd us better. Val. My father's worship was a fool! Old Valentine i'faith; the old boy still! [never Lance. We will go; But 'tis like rams, to come again the stronger: And you shall keep your state! Val. Thou liest; I will not. Lance. Sweet Sir, thou liest; thou shalt; and so good morrow! [Exeunt Tenanis. Val. This was my man, and of a noble Now to your business, Uncle. [breeding. Unc. To your state then. [it no more; Val. 'Tis gone, and I am glad on't; name "Tis that I pray against, and Heav'n has heard I tell you, Sir, I am more fearful of it, [me. I mean of thinking of more lands, or livings, Than sickly men are travelling o' Sundays, For being quell'd with carriers. Out upon't! Caveat emptor! Let the fool out-sweat it, That thinks he has got a catch on't. Unc. This is madness, To be a wilful beggar. Val. I am mad then, And so I mean to be; will that content you? Unc. And from means too. Val. Means? Why, all good men's my means; my wit's my plough, The town's my stock, tavern's my standinghouse, [gentlemen And all the world knows there's no want; all That love society, love me; all purses That wit and pleasure open, are my tenants; Every man's clothes fit me, the next fair lodging Is but my next remove, and when I please To be more eminent, and take the air, A piece is levied, and a coach prepar'd, And I go I care not whither. What need state here? Unc. But, say these means were honest, will they last, Sir? Val. Far longer than your jerkin, and wear fairer ; Should I take ought of you? 'Tis true, I beg'd now, Or which is worse than that, I stole a kindness, But daily sweat and trouble: Were my way Val. What's my knowledge, Uncle? Is't not worth money? [ing, wit, What's my understanding, my travel, readAll these digested, my daily making men, Some to speak, that too much phlegm had frozen up; [their peace, Some other that spoke too much, to hold And put their tongues to pensions; some to wear their clothes, [Uncle! And some to keep 'em? 10 These are nothing, Besides these ways, to teach the way of nature, A manly love, community to all That are deservers-not examining [wicked, Making 'em only food for his repentance. 1 Ser. This cloak and hat, Sir, and my master's love. [that, Val. Commend us to thy master, and take And leave 'em at my lodging. 1 Ar. I shall do't, Sir. Val. I do not think of these things. [you. 2 Ser. Please you, Sir, I have gold here for Val. Give it me. Drink that, and commend me to thy master. Look you, Uncle, do I beg these? Unc. No sure, it is your worth, Sir. Val. 'Tis like enough; but, pray satisfy me, Are not these ways as honest as persecuting The starv'd inheritance, with musty corn The very rats were fain to run away from, Or selling rotten wood by the pound, like spices, Which ger lemen do after burn by th' ounces? Do not I know your way of feeding beasts With grains, and windy stuff, to blow up butchers? Your racking pastures, that have eaten up All good men's my means] This is the reading of the oldest copies; the modern (more grammatically, but less poetically) say, All good men are my means. 10 It is plain to any one, who reads the two or three foregoing speeches of Valentine attentively, that he is defending his romantick humour, arguing by way of interrogation; according to which we have reformed the pointing, and, we hope, cleared the text from obscurity. For all your beasts in Rumney." Now you know me. you, Unc. I would you knew yourself; but, since Unc. From your mortgage, which yet you Val. Pray save your labour, Sir; Without this trick of state; we are heirs both, Unc. My last offer, And then I'm gone. Val. What is't? and then I'll answer. And tell me seriously, without these trifles. Val. An you can find one that can please You shall not find me stubborn. [my fancy, Unc. Speak your woman. [mendations Val. One without eyes, that is, self-com(For when they find they're handsome, they're unwholesome); One without ears, not giving time to flatterers (For she that hears herself commended, wavers, And points men out a way to make 'em [man One without substance of herself;12 that woWithout the pleasure of her life, that's wanton, Though she be young; forgetting it, tho' fair; wicked); For all your beans in Rumnillo, now you know me.] I would not conclude that there is no such place in England as Rumnillo, merely because I never heard of it; but it does not sound like an English name, and what weighs more with me, it gives a redundant syllable to the verse. The Uncle is before described as a great grasier; his beasts therefore are more likely to be mentioned, as the chief of his wealth, than his beans. Rumney Marsh, in Kent, is remarkably famous for fatting cattle; I think therefore my conjecture was probably the true reading. Seward. 12 One without substance of her self, that woman without the pleasure of her life, that's wanton, though she be young, forgetting it, though fair, making her glass, &c,] Mr. Seward reads, One without substance of herself; that woman This passage is certainly difficult, but Mr. Seward's reading has rendered it still more obscure than the licentious pointing of the old books. Our reading is with a strict adherence to the old text, and with but small variation from the old punctuation. The sense of the whole speech we conceive to be this: The woman I expect is, one without eyes, to discover her own charms; one without ears, to receive flattery; one without SUBSTANCE of herself, i. e. one without the veru ESSENCE of woman; a woman, without wantonness (the chief pleasure of ⚫ woman's life) though young; unconscious of her beauty, though fair, &c. &c. This sense is easily obtained by our regulation of the stops, and is (as we believe) the true one. 18 I am a carvel to her Ca vel, from the Spanish word caravila, an old-fashioned vessel, formerly much used in Spain, sharp before, ill-shaped every way, and all the masts stooping forwards. Their sails are all mizen-sails, that is, triangular; they will lie nearer the wind than other sails, but are not so commodious to handle. This is the explanation given by the Spanish Dictionaries. Carvel here seems to be used for a small ship, in the same sense as it is by Sir Walter Raleigh: I gave them order, if they found any Indians there, to send in the little fly boat, or the carvel, into the river; for with our great ships we durst not approach the R. 'coast. |