صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

And over head, I'll have, in the glass I do not see, how any storm or tempest windows,

Can help it now. The story of this day be painted, round, Pru. The thing being done and past, For the poor laity of love to read.

Yet bear it wisely, and like a lady of I'll make myself their book, nay, their

judgment. example,

Bea. She is that, secretary Pru. To bid them take occasion by the forelock, Pru. Why secretary, And play no after-games of love hereafter. My wise lord ? is your brain lately married ! Host. And here your host, and's Fly, Bea. Your reign is ended, Pru, no sovewitness your vows,

reign now: And like two lucky birds, bring the presage Your date is out, and dignity expir'd. Of a loud jest: lord Beaufort married is. Pru. I am annull’d, how can I treat with Lad. Ha!

Lovel, Fly. All-to-be-married.

Without a new commission ? Pru. To whom, not your son ?

Lad. Thy gown's commission. Host. The same, Pru. If her ladyship Host. Have patience, Pru, expect, bid could take truce

the lord joy. A little with her passion, and give way

Pru. And this brave lady too. I wish To their mirth now running.

them joy. Lad. Runs it mirth, let't come,

Pei. Joy. It shall be well receiv'd, and much made

Jor. Joy. of it.

[conception.

Jug. All joy. Pru. We must of this, it was our own

Host. I, the house full of joy.

Fly. Play the bells; fidlers, crack your SCENE III.

strings with joy.

Pru. But lady Lætice, you shew'd a Latimer. [To them.]

neglect Lat. Room for green rushes, raise the Un-to-be-pardon’d, to’ards my lady, your fidlers, chainberlain,

kinswoman, Call up the house in arms.

Not to advise with her. Host. This will rouze Lovel.

Bea. Good politic Pru, Fly. And bring him on too.

Urge not your state advice, your after-wit'; Lat. Sheelee-nien

'Tis near upbraiding. Get our bed ready, Runs like a heifer, bitten with the brieze,

chamberlain,

[ceits, About the court, crying on Fly, and cursing. And, host, a bride-cup; you have rare conFly. For what, my lord ?

And good ingredients; ever an old host, Lat. Yo'were best hear that from her, Upo' the road, has his provocative drinks. It is no office, Fiy, fits my relation.

Lat. He is either a good bawd, or a phyHere come the happy couple ! Joy, lord

sician. Beaufort.

Bea. 'Twas well he heard you not, his Fly. And my young lady too.

back was turn'd. Host. Much joy, my lord !

A bed, the genial bed, a brace of boys

To-night I play for.
SCENE IV.

Pru. Give us points, my lord.

Bea. Here take 'em, Pru, my cod-piece · Beaufort, Frank, Servant. [To them.]

point, and all.

[boys. Beau. I thank you all; I thank thee, I ha' clasps, my Lætice' arms, here take 'em, father Fly.

What, is the chamber ready? Speak, why Madam, my cousin, you look discompos'd,

stare you I have been bold with a sallad after supper, On one another? O’your own lettice here.

Jor. No, sir. Lad. You have, my lord.

Bea. And why no? But laws of hospitality, and fair rites,

Jor. My master has forbid it. He yet Would have made me acquainted.

doubts, Beau. l' your own bouse,

That you are married.
I do acknowledge: else I much had trespass'd. Bea. Ask his vicar-general,
But in an inn, and public, where there is His Fly, here.
licence

Fly. I must make that good, they are Of all community; a pardon o' course

married. May be su'd out.

Host. But I must make it bad, my hot Lat. It will, my lord, and carry it.

young lord. Urge not your state advice, your after-wit.s What is the meaning of state advice ? Grave advice; such as befits the solemnity of a state? Or is it not better to suppose it an error, and that stale advice was the poet's original word ? especially as the following expression sceins to countenance the emendation.

Gi’ him his doublet again, the air is piercing; You may take cold, my lord. See whom

you ha' married, Your host's son, and a boy.

Fly. You are abus'd.
Lad. Much joy, my lord.

Pru. If this be your Lætitia, She'll prove a counterfeit mirth, and a clip'd lady.

[boy! Ser. A boy, a boy, my lord has married a Lat. Raise all the house in shout and

laughter, a boy! Host. Stay, what is here! peace, rascals,

stop your throats.

I see

SCENE V.

Nurse. [To them. ] That maggot, worm, that insect! O my child,

[his face, My daughter! where's that Fly? I'll fly in The vermin, let me come to him. Fly. Why, nurse Sheele? Nur. Hang thee, thou parasite, thou son of crums

[child, And orts, thou hast undone me, and my My daughter, my dear daughter.

Host. What means this? [ruin'd,

Nur. O sir, my daughter, my dear child is By this your Fly, here, married in a stable, And sold unto a husband.

Host. Stint thy cry, Harlot, if that be all, didst thou not sell him To me for a boy ? and brought'st him in

boy's rags Ilere to niy door, to beg an alms of me? Nur. I did, good master, and I crave

your pardon; But 'tis my daughter, and a girl.

Host. Why said'st thou It was a boy, and sold'st him then to me With such entreaty, for ten shillings, carlin?

Nur. Because you were a charitable man I heard, good master, and would breed bim

well, I would ha' giv'n him you for nothing gladly. Forgive the lie o' my mouth, it was to save The fruit of my womb. A parent's needs are urgent,

(natures. And few do know that tyrant o'er good But you reliev'd her, and me too, the mother,

[nurse, And took me into your house to be the For which heaven heap all blessings on your

head, Whilst there can one be added !

Host. Sure thou speak’st
Quite like another creature than th' hast liv'd
Here, i’ the house, a Sheelee-nien Thomas,
An Irish beggar.

Nur. So I am, God help me.
Host. What art thou tell : the match

is a good match, For aught I see: ring the bells once again.

Bea. Stint, I say, fidlers.
Lad. No going off, my lord.

Bea. Nor coming on, sweet lady, things

thus standing! Fly. But what's the heinousness of my

offence ? Or the degrees of wrong you suffer'd by it? In having your daughter match'd thus hap

píly, Into a noble house, a brave young blood, And a prime peer o' the realm ?

Bea. Was that your plot, Fly? Gi' me a cloke, take her again among you. l'll none o' your Light-Heart fosterlings, no

inmates, Supposititious fruits of an host's brain, And his Fly's batching, to be put upon me. There is a royal court o' the Star-chamber, Will scatter all these mists, disperse these

vapours, And clear the truth. Let beggars match

with beggars, That shall decide it. I will try it there.

Nur. Nay, then, my lord, it's not enough You are licentious, but you will be wicked. Yo' are not alone content to take my

daughter,
Against the law; but having taken her,
You would repudiate, and cast her off,
Now at your pleasure, like a beast of power,
Without all cause, or colour of a cause,
That, or a noble, or an honest man,
Should dare t'except against; her poverty,
Is poverty a vice ?

Bea. Th’age counts it so.
Nur. God help your lordship, and your

peers that think so,
If any be: if not, God bless them all,
And help the number o' the virtuous,
If poverty be a crime. You may object
Our beggary to us, as an accident,
But never deeper, no inherent baseness.
And I must tell you now, young lord of dirt,
As an incensed mother, she hath more
And better blood running i' those small

veins, Than all the race of Beauforts have in mass, Though they distil their drops from the

left rib Of John o' Gaunt.

Host. Old mother o records, Thou know'st her pedigree then: whose

daughter is she? Nur. The daughter and co-heir to the

lord Frampul, This lady's sister!

Lad. Mine? what is her name?
Nur. Lætitia.
Lad. That was lost !
Nur. The true Lætitia.
Lud. Sister, ( gladness! then you are

our mother?
Nur. I am, dear daughter.

Lad. On my knees I bless
The light I see you by.

Nur. And to the author
Of that blest light, l ope my other eye,

riers;

Which hath almost, now, seven years been But take your mistress, first, my child: I shut,

have
power

(sister Dark as my vow was, never to see light, To give her now, with her consent; her Till such a light restor’d it, as my children, Is given already to your brother Beaufort. Or your dear father, who, I hear, is not. Lod. Is this a dream now, after my first Bea. Give me my wife, I own her now,

sleep? and will have her.

Or are these phant’sies made i’ the Light Host. But you must ask my leave first,

Heart? my young lord.

[master, And sold i' the New Inn? Leave is but light. Ferret, go bolt your Host. Best go to bed, Here's gear will startle him. I cannot keep And dream it over all. Let's all go sleep, The passion in me, I am e'en turn'd child, Each with his turtle. Fly, provide us lodAnd I must weep. Fly, take away mine

gings ;

[inn, host,

[my lord; Get beds prepar'd; yo' are master now o’the My beard and cap here, from me, and fetch The lord o’ the Light-Heart, I give it you. I am her father, sir, and you

shall now

Fly was my fellow-gipsy. All my family, Ask my consent, before you have her. Indeed, were gipsies, tapsters, ostlers, chamWife!

[wife!

berlains, My dear and loving wife ! my honour'd Reduced vessels of civility.

[ving Who here hath gaip'd but I? I am lord But here stands Pru, neglected, best deserFrampul, Of all that are i’ the house, or i' my

heart; The cause of all this trouble: I am he Whom though I cannot help to a fit hus. Ilave measur'd all the shires of England

band,

Etion: over,

I'll help to that will bring one, a just porWales, and her mountains, seen those I have two thousand pound in bank for Pru, wilder nations,

Call for it when she will. Of people in the Peak, and Lancashire ; Bea. And I as much. Their pipers, fidlers, rushers, puppet-mas Host. There's somewhat yet, four thouters,

sand pound! that's better, Juglers and gipsies, all the sorts of canters, Than sounds the proverb, “ Four bare legs And colonies of beggars, tumblers, ape-car

in a bed."

(to coin

Los. Me and her mistress, she hath power For to these savages I was addicted,

Up into what she will. To search their natures, and make odd dis Lad. Indefinite Pru. coveries,

Lat. But I must do the crowning act of And here my wife, like a She-Mandevile,

bounty ! Ventured in disquisition after me.

Host. What's that, my lord ? Nur. I may look up, admire, I cannot Lat. Give her myself, which here speak

By all the holy vows of love I do. Yet to my lord.

Spare all your promis'd portions; she's a Host. Take heart, and breathe, recover,

dowry Thou hast recover'd me, who here had

So all-sufficient in her virtue and manners, coffin'd

That fortune cannot add to her. Myself alive, in a poor hostelry,

Pru. My lord, In penance of my wrongs done unto thee, Your praises are instructions to mine ears, Whom I long since gave lost.

Whence you have made your wife to live Nur. So did I you,

[sister,

your servant. Till stealing mine own daughter from her Host. Lights: get us several lights. I lighted on this error hath cur'd all.

Lov. Stay, let thy niistress Bea. And in that cure, include my tres But hear my visión sung, my dream of pass, mother,

beauty,

[joy, And father, for my wife

Which I have brought, prepar'd, to bid us Høst. No, the Star-chamber.

And light us all to bed, 'twill be instead Bea. Away with that, you sour the Of airing of the sheets with a sweet odour. sweetest lettice

Host. "Twill be an incense to our sacrifice Was ever tasted.

Of love to-night, where I will woo afresh, Host. Gi’ you joy, my son,

And like Mæc nas, having but one wife, Cast her not off again. 'O call me father, I'll marry her every hour of life hereafter 4. Lovel, and this your mother, if you like.

They go out with a song. * And like MÆUENAS, having but one WIFE,

I'll murry her every hour of life hereafter.] Terentia, the wife of Mæcenas, is reported to have been not of the most gentle and complying manners, which necessarily produced many quarrels and reconcilements between her and her husband: this gave occasion to those words of Seneca, to which our poet alludes; Hunc esse, qui uxorem millies duxit, cùm unam habuerit. Senec. Epist. 114.

EPILOG U E.

“ PLAYS in theinselves have neither

hopes nor fears ; “ Their fate is only in their hearers' ears: “ If you expect more than you had to-night, « The maker is sick, and sad. But do him right;

[things fit, “ He meant to please you: for he sent “ Iu all the numbers both of sense and

wit; “ If they ha' not miscarried ! if they have,

“ All that his faint and falt'ring tongue Is, that you not impute it to his brain, “ That's yet unhurt, althu'set round with

pain, " It cannot long hold out. All strengt! must yield;

[neld, “ Yet judgment would the last be in the

With a true poet. He could have hal'd in “ The drunkards, and the noises of the

inn, “ In his last act; if he had thought it fit To vent you vapours in the place of wit:

or spue, “ But better 'twas that they should sleep,

“ Than in the scene to offend him or you. " This he did think; and this do you forgive:

[live. “ Whene'er the carcase dies, this art will " And had he liv'd the care of king and queen,

(seen; “ His art in something more yet had been “ But mayors and shrieves may yearly till

the stage : A king's, or poet's birth do ask an age.”

doth crave,

Another EPILOGUE there was, made for the play, in the poet's

defence, but the play liv'd not in opinion, to have it spoken. “ A JOVIAL host, and lord of the New " We think it would have serv'd our scene Inn, [past therein,

as true, 'Clept the Light-Heart, with all that “ 'If, as it is, at first we'd call’d her Pru, “ Hath been the subject of our play to For any mystery we there have found, night,

(delight. Or magick in the letters, or the sound. To give the king, and queen, and court “ She only meant was for a girl of wit, “ But then we mean the court above the “ To whom her lady did a province fit: stairs,

(more of ears “ Which she would have discharg'd, and “ And past the guard; men that have

done as well, “ Than eyes to judge us: such as will not “ Had she been christen’d Joyce, Grace, hiss,

[Cis.

Doll, or Nell.” “ Because the chambermaid was named

· If, as it is, at first we'd call'd her Pru.] In the first draught of the play, the chambermaid's name was Cicely, which, it seems, was not approv'd of by the audience, and therefore altered by the poet to Prudence. In the edition of 1631, she is sometimes called Cis, and sometimes Pru, by mistake of the printer.

This Comedy, as it was never acted, but most negligently play'd by some, the King's

SERVANTS; and more squeamishly beheld and censur'd by others, the King's Subjects, 1629; is now, at last, set at liberty to the Readers, his MAJESTY's Servants and Subjects, to be judg'd of, 1631.

THE MAGNETICK LADY; OR,

HUMOURS RECONCILED.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

LADY LOADSTONE, the Magnetick Ludy. Doctor Rut, physician to the house.
Mistress Polisi, her gossip and she-pa Tim. Item, his apothecary.
rasite.

Sir DIAPHANOUS SILKWORM, a courtier. Mistress PLACENTIA, her niece.

Mr. PRACTISE, a lawyer. PLEASANCE, her waiting-woman.

Sir MOTH INTEREST, an usurer, or moneyMISTRESS KEEP, the niece's nurse.

buwd. Mother Chair, the midwife.

MR. BIAS, (e vi-politick, or sub-secretary. MR. COMPASS, a scholar muthematick. Mr. Needle, the lady's steward and taylor. CAPTAIN IRONSIDE, a soldier.

The Chorus, by wuy of Induction. PARSON PALATE, prelate of the parish.

SCENE, London.

THE INDUCTION, or CHORUS.

you lack?

The turo gentlemen entering upon the stage. Pro. We are a pair of public persons (this Mr. Probee and Mr. Damplay.

gentleman and myself that are sent thus

coupled unto you, upon state-business. A boy of the house meets them.

Boy. It concerns but the state of the Boy. WHAT do you lack, gentlemen ? stage, I hope. what is't

any.

fine fancies, figures, Dam. O, you shall know that by degrees, humours, characters, ideas, definitions of bov. No man leaps into a business of state, lords and ladies : Waiting-women, parasites,

without fording first the state of the business. knights, captains, courtiers, lawyers, what Pro. We are sent unto you, indeed, from do you lack?

the people. Pro. A pretty prompt boy for the poetic Boy. "The people! which side of the peoshop.

ple? Dum. And a bold ! where's one o' your Dam. The venison side, if you know it, masters, sirrah, the poet?

boy. Boy. Which of 'em, sir? we have divers Boy. That's the left side. I had rather that drive that trade, now: poets, poetac they had been the right. cio's, poetasters, poetito's

Pro. So they are

Not the fæces, or "Dam. And all haberdashers of sınall wit, grounds of your people, that sit in the oblique I

presume; we would speak with the poet caves and wedges of your house, your sinful o the day, boy:

six-penny mechanicksBoy. Sir, he is not here. But I have the Dam. But the better and braver sort of dominion of the shop, for this time, under your people ! plush and velvet outsides! him, and can shew you all the variety the that stick your house round like so many stage will afford for the present.

eminences Pro. Therein you will express your own

Boy. Of clothes, not understandings? good parts, boy.

they are at pawn. Well, I take these as a Dam. And tie us two to you for the gen part of your people though; what bring tle office.

you to me from these people? · Dam. And all haberdashers of small wit.] Sbakspeare has an expression of the like kind, in King Henry the Eighth, act 5. scene 1:

Porter's Man. There was a haberdasher's wife of small wit, that railed upon me, till “ her pink'd porrenger fell off her head.” Dr. Grey.

« السابقةمتابعة »