Bright,Newcut,Plotwell,Roseclap, hanging out the picture of a strange fish.[221]
Bright.'Fore Jove, the captain fox'd[222]him rarely.Rose.O sir,He is used to it: this is the fifth fish nowThat he hath shown thus. One got him twenty pound.New.How, Roseclap?Rose.Why the captain kept him, sir,A whole week drunk, and show'd him twice a-day.New.It could not be like this.Rose.Faith, I do grantThis is the strangest fish. Yon I have hungHis other picture in the fields, where someSay 'tis an o'ergrown porpoise; others say'Tis the fish caught in Cheshire; one, to whomThe rest agree, said 'twas a mermaid.Plot.'Slight!Roseclap shall have a patent of him. The birdsBrought from Peru, the hairy wench,[223]the camel,The elephant, dromedaries, or Windsor Castle,The woman with dead flesh, or she that washes,Threads needles, writes, dresses her children, playsO' th' virginals with her feet, could never drawPeople like this.New.O, that his father wereAt home to see him!Plot.Or his mother come,Who follows strange sights out of town, and wentTo Brentford to a motion.Bright.Bid the captain hasten,Or he'll recover, and spoil all.Rose.They're here!
Bright.'Fore Jove, the captain fox'd[222]him rarely.
Rose.O sir,He is used to it: this is the fifth fish nowThat he hath shown thus. One got him twenty pound.
New.How, Roseclap?
Rose.Why the captain kept him, sir,A whole week drunk, and show'd him twice a-day.
New.It could not be like this.
Rose.Faith, I do grantThis is the strangest fish. Yon I have hungHis other picture in the fields, where someSay 'tis an o'ergrown porpoise; others say'Tis the fish caught in Cheshire; one, to whomThe rest agree, said 'twas a mermaid.
Plot.'Slight!Roseclap shall have a patent of him. The birdsBrought from Peru, the hairy wench,[223]the camel,The elephant, dromedaries, or Windsor Castle,The woman with dead flesh, or she that washes,Threads needles, writes, dresses her children, playsO' th' virginals with her feet, could never drawPeople like this.
New.O, that his father wereAt home to see him!
Plot.Or his mother come,Who follows strange sights out of town, and wentTo Brentford to a motion.
Bright.Bid the captain hasten,Or he'll recover, and spoil all.
Rose.They're here!
EnterQuartfieldandSalewit, dressed like two trumpeters, keeping the door;Mistress SeathriftandMistress Holland, with a 'prentice before 'em, as comers-in.
EnterQuartfieldandSalewit, dressed like two trumpeters, keeping the door;Mistress SeathriftandMistress Holland, with a 'prentice before 'em, as comers-in.
Quart.Bear back there!Sale.Pray you, do not press so hard.Quart.Make room for the two gentlewomen.Mis. Sea.What is't?Sale.Twelvepence apiece.Mis. Hol.We will not give't.Quart.Make room for them that will, then.Plot.O fortune, here's his mother!Bright.And who's the other?Plot.One Mistress Holland, theGreat sempstress on the Exchange.Mis. Hol.We gave but a groatTo see the last fish.Quart.Gentlewoman, thatWas but an Irish sturgeon.Sale.This came fromThe Indies, and eats five crowns a day in fry,Ox-livers, and brown paste.Mis. Sea.Well, there's three shillings.Pray, let us have good places now.Quart.Bear back there!Mis. Hol.Look, Mistress Seathrift, here be gentlemen.Sure, 'tis a rare fish.Mis. Sea.I know one of 'em.Mis. Hol.And so do I; his sister was my 'prentice.Mis. Sea.Let's take acquaintance with him.Plot.Mistress Seathrift,Hath the sight drawn you hither?Mis. Sea.Yes, sir, IAnd Mistress Holland here, my gossip, pass'dThis way, and so call'd in. Pray, Master Plotwell,Is not my son here? I was told he wentWith you this morning.Plot.You shall see him straight.Mis. Hol.When will the fish begin, sir?Bright.Heart! she makes him a puppet-play.Plot.Why, now, they only stayFor company, 't has sounded twice.[224]Mis. Sea.IndeedI long to see this fish. I wonder whetherThey will cut up his belly; they say a tenchWill make him whole again.Mis. Hol.Look, Mistress Seathrift, what claws he has!Mis. Sea.For all the world like crabs.Mis. Hol.Nay, mark his feet too.Mis. Sea.For all the world like plaice.Bright.Was ever better sport heard?New.Prythee, peace.Mis. Hol.Pray, can you read that? Sir, I warrantThat tells where it was caught, and what fish 'tis.Plot.Within this place is to be seenA wondrous fish. God save the queen.Mis. Hol.Amen! she is my customer, and IHave sold her bone-lace often.Bright.Why, the queen? 'Tis writthe king.Plot.That was to make the rhyme.Bright.'Slid, thou didst read it, as 'twere some picture ofAn Elizabeth-fish.[225]Quart.Bear back there!Sale.Make room! youFriend, that were going to cut a purse there, makeWay for the two old gentlemen to pass.
Quart.Bear back there!
Sale.Pray you, do not press so hard.
Quart.Make room for the two gentlewomen.
Mis. Sea.What is't?
Sale.Twelvepence apiece.
Mis. Hol.We will not give't.
Quart.Make room for them that will, then.
Plot.O fortune, here's his mother!
Bright.And who's the other?
Plot.One Mistress Holland, theGreat sempstress on the Exchange.
Mis. Hol.We gave but a groatTo see the last fish.
Quart.Gentlewoman, thatWas but an Irish sturgeon.
Sale.This came fromThe Indies, and eats five crowns a day in fry,Ox-livers, and brown paste.
Mis. Sea.Well, there's three shillings.Pray, let us have good places now.
Quart.Bear back there!
Mis. Hol.Look, Mistress Seathrift, here be gentlemen.Sure, 'tis a rare fish.
Mis. Sea.I know one of 'em.
Mis. Hol.And so do I; his sister was my 'prentice.
Mis. Sea.Let's take acquaintance with him.
Plot.Mistress Seathrift,Hath the sight drawn you hither?
Mis. Sea.Yes, sir, IAnd Mistress Holland here, my gossip, pass'dThis way, and so call'd in. Pray, Master Plotwell,Is not my son here? I was told he wentWith you this morning.
Plot.You shall see him straight.
Mis. Hol.When will the fish begin, sir?
Bright.Heart! she makes him a puppet-play.
Plot.Why, now, they only stayFor company, 't has sounded twice.[224]
Mis. Sea.IndeedI long to see this fish. I wonder whetherThey will cut up his belly; they say a tenchWill make him whole again.
Mis. Hol.Look, Mistress Seathrift, what claws he has!
Mis. Sea.For all the world like crabs.
Mis. Hol.Nay, mark his feet too.
Mis. Sea.For all the world like plaice.
Bright.Was ever better sport heard?
New.Prythee, peace.
Mis. Hol.Pray, can you read that? Sir, I warrantThat tells where it was caught, and what fish 'tis.
Plot.Within this place is to be seenA wondrous fish. God save the queen.
Mis. Hol.Amen! she is my customer, and IHave sold her bone-lace often.
Bright.Why, the queen? 'Tis writthe king.
Plot.That was to make the rhyme.
Bright.'Slid, thou didst read it, as 'twere some picture ofAn Elizabeth-fish.[225]
Quart.Bear back there!
Sale.Make room! youFriend, that were going to cut a purse there, makeWay for the two old gentlemen to pass.
EnterWarehouseandSeathriftdisguised.
Ware.What must we give?Quart.We take a shilling, sir.Sale.It is no less.Sea.Pray God your fish be worth it.What, is't a whale, you take so dear?Quart.It is a fish taken in the Indies.Ware.Pray despatch then, and show't us quickly.Sale.Pray, forbear: you'd have your head broke, cobbler.Ware.Yonder is my nephew in his old gallantry.Sea.Who's there too? my wifeAnd Mistress Holland! Nay, I look'd for them.But where's my wise son?Ware.Mass, I see not him.Quart.Keep out, sir.Sale.Waterman, you must not enter.
Ware.What must we give?
Quart.We take a shilling, sir.
Sale.It is no less.
Sea.Pray God your fish be worth it.What, is't a whale, you take so dear?
Quart.It is a fish taken in the Indies.
Ware.Pray despatch then, and show't us quickly.
Sale.Pray, forbear: you'd have your head broke, cobbler.
Ware.Yonder is my nephew in his old gallantry.
Sea.Who's there too? my wifeAnd Mistress Holland! Nay, I look'd for them.But where's my wise son?
Ware.Mass, I see not him.
Quart.Keep out, sir.
Sale.Waterman, you must not enter.
[Cypherpresses in like a waterman.
Quart.This is no place for scullers.Cyph.I must needs speakWith one Master Plotwell——Quart.You must stay.Sale.Thrust him out.Cyph.——and one Master SeathriftOn urgent business.Sale.They are yet employ'dIn weightier affairs. Make fast the door.
Quart.This is no place for scullers.
Cyph.I must needs speakWith one Master Plotwell——
Quart.You must stay.
Sale.Thrust him out.
Cyph.——and one Master SeathriftOn urgent business.
Sale.They are yet employ'dIn weightier affairs. Make fast the door.
[They thrust him out.
Quart.There shall no more come in. Come in, boy.Sea.Don't they speak as if my son were in the room?Ware.Yes, pray observe and mark them.Quart.GentlemenAnd gentlewomen, you now shall see a sightEurope never show'd the like. Behold this fish!
Quart.There shall no more come in. Come in, boy.
Sea.Don't they speak as if my son were in the room?
Ware.Yes, pray observe and mark them.
Quart.GentlemenAnd gentlewomen, you now shall see a sightEurope never show'd the like. Behold this fish!
[Draws a curtain; behind itTimothyasleep like a strange fish.
Mis. Hol.O Strange! Look How It Sleeps!Bright.Just like a salmon upon a stall in FishStreet.Mis. Sea.How it snorts too! just like my husband.Ware.'Tis very like a man.Sea.'T has such a nose and eyes.Sale.Why, 'tis, a man-fish;An ocean centaur, begot between a sirenAnd a he stock-fish.Sea.Pray, where took ye him?Quart.We took him strangely in the Indies, nearThe mouth of Rio de la Plata, asleepUpon the shore, just as you see him now.Mis. Hol.How say ye, asleep!Ware.How! Would he come to land?Sea.'Tis strange a fish should leave his element!Quart.Ask him what things the country told us.Sale.YouWill scarce believe it now. This fish would walk youTwo or three mile o' th' shore sometimes; break houses,Ravish a naked wench or two (for thereWomen go naked), then run to sea again.Quart.The country has been laid,[226]and warrants grantedTo apprehend him.Ware.I do suspect these fellows:They lie as if they had patent for it.Sea.The company,Should every one believe his part, would scarceHave faith enough among us.Ware.Mark again.Sale.The States of Holland would have bought him of us,Out of a great design.Sea.Indeed!Sale.They offer'd a thousand dollars.Quart.You cannot enter yet.[Some knock.Ware.Indeed! so much! Pray, what to do?Sale.Why, sir,They were in hope, in time, to make this fishOf faction 'gainst the Spaniard, and do serviceUnto the state.Sea.As how?Sale.Why, sir, next plate-fleet,To dive, bore holes i'th' bottom of their ships,And sink them. You must think a fish like thisMay be taught Machiavel, and made a state-fish.Plot.As dogs are taught to fetch.New.Or elephants to dance on ropes.Bright.And, pray, what honour wouldThe states have given him for the service?Quart.That, sir, is uncertain.Sale.Ha' made him some sea-count; or, 't may be, admiral.Plot.Then, sir, in time,Dutch authors, that writMare Liberum,[227]Might dedicate their books to him?Sale.Yes, beingA fish advanc'd, and of great place. Sing, boy!You now shall hear a song upon him.Bright.Listen.New.Do they not act it rarely?Plot.If 'twere their trade, they could not do it better.Sea.Hear you that, sir?Ware.Still I suspect.Mis. Hol.I warrant you, this fishWill shortly be in a ballad.Sale.Begin, boy.
Mis. Hol.O Strange! Look How It Sleeps!
Bright.Just like a salmon upon a stall in FishStreet.
Mis. Sea.How it snorts too! just like my husband.
Ware.'Tis very like a man.
Sea.'T has such a nose and eyes.
Sale.Why, 'tis, a man-fish;An ocean centaur, begot between a sirenAnd a he stock-fish.
Sea.Pray, where took ye him?
Quart.We took him strangely in the Indies, nearThe mouth of Rio de la Plata, asleepUpon the shore, just as you see him now.
Mis. Hol.How say ye, asleep!
Ware.How! Would he come to land?
Sea.'Tis strange a fish should leave his element!
Quart.Ask him what things the country told us.
Sale.YouWill scarce believe it now. This fish would walk youTwo or three mile o' th' shore sometimes; break houses,Ravish a naked wench or two (for thereWomen go naked), then run to sea again.
Quart.The country has been laid,[226]and warrants grantedTo apprehend him.
Ware.I do suspect these fellows:They lie as if they had patent for it.
Sea.The company,Should every one believe his part, would scarceHave faith enough among us.
Ware.Mark again.
Sale.The States of Holland would have bought him of us,Out of a great design.
Sea.Indeed!
Sale.They offer'd a thousand dollars.
Quart.You cannot enter yet.[Some knock.
Ware.Indeed! so much! Pray, what to do?
Sale.Why, sir,They were in hope, in time, to make this fishOf faction 'gainst the Spaniard, and do serviceUnto the state.
Sea.As how?
Sale.Why, sir, next plate-fleet,To dive, bore holes i'th' bottom of their ships,And sink them. You must think a fish like thisMay be taught Machiavel, and made a state-fish.
Plot.As dogs are taught to fetch.
New.Or elephants to dance on ropes.
Bright.And, pray, what honour wouldThe states have given him for the service?
Quart.That, sir, is uncertain.
Sale.Ha' made him some sea-count; or, 't may be, admiral.
Plot.Then, sir, in time,Dutch authors, that writMare Liberum,[227]Might dedicate their books to him?
Sale.Yes, beingA fish advanc'd, and of great place. Sing, boy!You now shall hear a song upon him.
Bright.Listen.
New.Do they not act it rarely?
Plot.If 'twere their trade, they could not do it better.
Sea.Hear you that, sir?
Ware.Still I suspect.
Mis. Hol.I warrant you, this fishWill shortly be in a ballad.
Sale.Begin, boy.
Song.We show no monstrous crocodile,Nor any prodigy of Nile;No Remora that stops your fleet,[228]Like serjeants gallants in the street;No sea-horse which can trot or pace,Or swim false galop, post, or race:For crooked dolphins we not care,Though on their back a fiddler were:The like to this fish, which we show,Was ne'er in Fish Street, old or new;Nor ever serv'd to th' sheriff's board,Or kept in souse for the Mayor Lord.Had old astronomers but seenThis fish, none else in heaven had been.
Song.
We show no monstrous crocodile,Nor any prodigy of Nile;No Remora that stops your fleet,[228]Like serjeants gallants in the street;No sea-horse which can trot or pace,Or swim false galop, post, or race:For crooked dolphins we not care,Though on their back a fiddler were:The like to this fish, which we show,Was ne'er in Fish Street, old or new;Nor ever serv'd to th' sheriff's board,Or kept in souse for the Mayor Lord.Had old astronomers but seenThis fish, none else in heaven had been.
We show no monstrous crocodile,Nor any prodigy of Nile;No Remora that stops your fleet,[228]Like serjeants gallants in the street;No sea-horse which can trot or pace,Or swim false galop, post, or race:For crooked dolphins we not care,Though on their back a fiddler were:The like to this fish, which we show,Was ne'er in Fish Street, old or new;Nor ever serv'd to th' sheriff's board,Or kept in souse for the Mayor Lord.Had old astronomers but seenThis fish, none else in heaven had been.
Mis. Hol.The song has waken'd him; look, he stirs!Tim.O captain, pox—take—you—captain.Mis. Sea.Hark, he speaks!Tim.O—my—stomach——Ware.How's this?Sea.I'll pawn my life, this is imposture.Tim.O, O——Plot.Heart! the captain did not give him his full load.Ware.Can your fishSpeak, friends? The proverb says they're mute.Quart.I'll tell you,You will admire how docile he is, and howHe'll imitate a man: tell him your name,He will repeat it after you; he has heard meCall'd captain, and my fellow[s] curse sometimes,And now you heard him say, pox-take-you, captain.Sale.And yesterday, I but complain'd my stomachWas overcharg'd, and how he minds it!New.Strange!Bright.Ay, is it not?Plot.The towardness of a fish!Sale.Would you think, when we caught him, he should speakDrake, Drake?[229]Bright.And did he?Quart.Yes, andHawkins;[230]A sign he was a fish that swam there whenThese two compass'd the world.New.How should he learn their names, I wonder?Sale.From the sailors.New.That may be.Quart.He'll call for drink, like me, or anythingHe lacks.Tim.O Gad, my head——Quart.D'you hear him?Tim.O hostess, a basin——Plot.'Slid, he'll spew.Bright.No matter.Quart.Nay, I have seen him fox'd, and then maintainA drunken dialogue.Mis. Hol.Lord, how I longTo hear a little! Pray try him with some questions;Will you, my friend?Quart.Sometimes he will be sullen,And make no answers.Sale.That is when he's anger'd,Or kept from drink long.Quart.But I'll try him.Mis. Sea.To see what creatures may be brought to!Quart.Tim, you are drunk.Tim.Plague take you, captain. O—Lord, you made me——Sea.'Sdeath, my son's name! Tim do you call him?Sale.He'll answer to no name but that.Quart.And, Tim, what think you of a wench now?Tim.O, I am sick; where is she? O——Sea.I'll lay my life, this fish is some confederate rogue.Quart.I drink to you, Timothy, in sack.Tim.O, O!Quart.A health, Tim.Tim.I can drink no more,—O!Sale.What, not pledge your mistress!Tim.O, let me alone.Sale.He is not in the mood now;Sometimes you'd wonder at him.Quart.He is tiredWith talking all this day. That, and the heatOf company about him, dull him.Ware.Surely,My friends, it is to me a miracleTo hear a fish speak thus.Quart.So, sirs, 't has beenTo thousands more.Sale.Come now next Michaelmas,'Tis five year we have shown him in most courtsIn Christendom; and you will not believe,How with mere travelling and observationHe has improved himself, and brought awayThe language of the country.Sea.May not I ask himSome questions?Quart.Sir, you may; but heWill answer none but one of us.Mis. Sea.He's used, and knows their voices.
Mis. Hol.The song has waken'd him; look, he stirs!
Tim.O captain, pox—take—you—captain.
Mis. Sea.Hark, he speaks!
Tim.O—my—stomach——
Ware.How's this?
Sea.I'll pawn my life, this is imposture.
Tim.O, O——
Plot.Heart! the captain did not give him his full load.
Ware.Can your fishSpeak, friends? The proverb says they're mute.
Quart.I'll tell you,You will admire how docile he is, and howHe'll imitate a man: tell him your name,He will repeat it after you; he has heard meCall'd captain, and my fellow[s] curse sometimes,And now you heard him say, pox-take-you, captain.
Sale.And yesterday, I but complain'd my stomachWas overcharg'd, and how he minds it!
New.Strange!
Bright.Ay, is it not?
Plot.The towardness of a fish!
Sale.Would you think, when we caught him, he should speakDrake, Drake?[229]
Bright.And did he?
Quart.Yes, andHawkins;[230]A sign he was a fish that swam there whenThese two compass'd the world.
New.How should he learn their names, I wonder?
Sale.From the sailors.
New.That may be.
Quart.He'll call for drink, like me, or anythingHe lacks.
Tim.O Gad, my head——
Quart.D'you hear him?
Tim.O hostess, a basin——
Plot.'Slid, he'll spew.
Bright.No matter.
Quart.Nay, I have seen him fox'd, and then maintainA drunken dialogue.
Mis. Hol.Lord, how I longTo hear a little! Pray try him with some questions;Will you, my friend?
Quart.Sometimes he will be sullen,And make no answers.
Sale.That is when he's anger'd,Or kept from drink long.
Quart.But I'll try him.
Mis. Sea.To see what creatures may be brought to!
Quart.Tim, you are drunk.
Tim.Plague take you, captain. O—Lord, you made me——
Sea.'Sdeath, my son's name! Tim do you call him?
Sale.He'll answer to no name but that.
Quart.And, Tim, what think you of a wench now?
Tim.O, I am sick; where is she? O——
Sea.I'll lay my life, this fish is some confederate rogue.
Quart.I drink to you, Timothy, in sack.
Tim.O, O!
Quart.A health, Tim.
Tim.I can drink no more,—O!
Sale.What, not pledge your mistress!
Tim.O, let me alone.
Sale.He is not in the mood now;Sometimes you'd wonder at him.
Quart.He is tiredWith talking all this day. That, and the heatOf company about him, dull him.
Ware.Surely,My friends, it is to me a miracleTo hear a fish speak thus.
Quart.So, sirs, 't has beenTo thousands more.
Sale.Come now next Michaelmas,'Tis five year we have shown him in most courtsIn Christendom; and you will not believe,How with mere travelling and observationHe has improved himself, and brought awayThe language of the country.
Sea.May not I ask himSome questions?
Quart.Sir, you may; but heWill answer none but one of us.
Mis. Sea.He's used, and knows their voices.
[Knocking at door.
Sale.He is so, mistress. Now, we'll open door.Ware.Well, my belief doth tell meThere is a mist before our eyes.Mis. Sea.I mar'lMy wise son miss'd this show.Quart.Good people, weDo show no more to-day: if you desire
Sale.He is so, mistress. Now, we'll open door.
Ware.Well, my belief doth tell meThere is a mist before our eyes.
Mis. Sea.I mar'lMy wise son miss'd this show.
Quart.Good people, weDo show no more to-day: if you desire
[They draw the curtain before him.
To see, come to us in King Street to-morrow.Mis. Hol.Come, gossip, let us go; the fish is done.Mis. Sea.By your leave, gentlemen. Truly, 'tis a dainty fish.[231]
To see, come to us in King Street to-morrow.
Mis. Hol.Come, gossip, let us go; the fish is done.
Mis. Sea.By your leave, gentlemen. Truly, 'tis a dainty fish.[231]
[ExitMistress Seathrift,Mistress Holland, and'Prentice.
EnterCypher, like a Waterman.
Cyph.Pray, which is Master Plotwell?Plot.I am he, friend;What is your business?Cyph.Sir, I should speakWith young Master Seathrift too.Plot.Sir, at this time,Although no crab, like you, to swim backward, he isOf your element.Cyph.Upon the water?Plot.No,But something that lives in't. If you but stayTill he have slept himself a land-creature, you mayChance see him come ashore here.Tim.O—my head—O—Captain—Master Francis—Captain—O——Plot.That is his voice, sir.Sea.Death o' my soul! my son!Cyph.He is in drink, sir, is he?Plot.Surely, friend, you are a witch;[232]he is so.Cyph.Then I must tell the news to you: 'tis sad.Plot.I'll hear't as sadly.Cyph.Your uncle, sir, and Master Seathrift areBoth drown'd, some eight miles below Greenwich.Plot.Drown'd!Cyph.They went i' th' tilt-boat, sir, and I was oneO' th' oars that rowed him: a coal-ship did o'errun us.I 'scaped by swimming; the two old gentlemenTook hold of one another, and sunk together.Bright.How some men's prayers are heard!We did invokeThe sea this morning, and see, the Thames has took 'em.Plot.It cannot be: such good news, gentlemen,Cannot be true.Ware.'Tis very certain, sir.'Twas talk'd upon th' Exchange.Sea.We heard it tooIn Paul's now, as we came.Plot.There, friend, there isA fare for you. I'm glad you 'scap'd; I hadNot known the news so soon else.[Gives him money.Cyph.Sir, excuse me.Plot.Sir, it is conscience; I do believe you mightSue me in Chancery.Cyph.Sir, you show the virtues of an heir.Ware.Are you rich Warehouse's heir, sir?Plot.Yes, sir, his transitory pelf,And some twelve hundred pound a year in earth,Is cast on me. Captain, the hour is come,You shall no more drink ale, of which one draughtMakes cowards, and spoils valour; nor take offYour moderate quart-glass. I intend to haveA musket for you, or glass-cannon, withA most capacious barrel, which we'll chargeAnd discharge with the rich valiant grapeOf my uncle's cellar. Every charge shall fireThe glass, and burn itself i' th' filling, and lookLike a piece going off.Quart.I shall be gladTo give thanks for you, sir, in pottle-draughts,And shall love Scotch coal for this wreck the better,As long as I know fuel.Plot.Then my poetNo longer shall write catches or thin sonnets,Nor preach in verse, as if he were suborn'dBy him that wrote the Whip,[233]to pen lean acts,And so to overthrow the stage for wantOf salt or wit. Nor shall he need tormentOr persecute his Muse; but I will beHis god of wine t' inspire him. He shall no moreConverse with the five-yard butler who, like thunder,Can turn beer with his voice, and roar it sour;But shall come forth a Sophocles, and writeThings for the buskin. Instead of Pegasus,To strike a spring with's hoof, we'll have a steelWhich shall but touch a butt, and straight shall flowA purer, higher, wealthier Helicon.Sale.Frank, thou shalt be my Phœbus. My next poemShall be thy uncle's tragedy, or the lifeAnd death of two rich merchants.Plot.Gentlemen,And now, i' faith, what think you of the fish?Ware.Why as we ought, sir, strangely.Bright.But do you think it is a very fish?Sale.Yes.New.'Tis a man.Plot.This valiant captain and this man of witFirst fox'd him, then transformed him. We will wake him,And tell him the news. Ho, Master Timothy!Tim.Plague take you, captain!Plot.What, does your sack work still?Tim.Where am I?Plot.Come, y' have slept enough.Bright.Master Timothy!How, in the name of fresh cod, came you chang'dInto a sea-calf thus?New.'Slight, sir, here beTwo fishmongers to buy you; bate the price,Now y' are awake, yourself.Tim.How's this? my handsTransmuted into claws? my feet made flounders?Array'd in fins and scales? Aren't youAsham'd to make me such a monster? Pray,Help to undress me.Plot.We have rare news for you.Tim.No letter from the lady, I hope.Plot.Your fatherAnd my grave uncle, sir, are cast away.Tim.How?Plot.They by this have made a mealFor jacks and salmon: they are drown'd.Bright.Fall down,And worship sea-coals; for a ship of themHas made you, sir, an heir.Plot.This fellow hereBrings the auspicious news: and these two friendsOf ours confirm it.Cyph.'Tis too true, sir.Tim.Well,We are all mortal; but in what wet caseHad I been now, if I had gone with him!Within this fortnight I had been convertedInto some pike; you might ha' cheapen'd meIn Fish Street; I had made an ordinary,Perchance, at the Mermaid.[234]Now could I cryLike any image in a fountain, whichRuns lamentations. O my hard misfortune![He feigns to weep.Sea.Fie, sir! good truth, it is not manly in youTo weep for such a slight loss as a father.Tim.I do not cry for that.Sea.No?Tim.No, but to think,My mother is not drown'd too.Sea.I assure you,And that's a shrewd mischance.Tim.For then might IHa' gone to th' counting-house, and set at libertyThose harmless angels, which for many yearsHave been condemn'd to darkness.Plot.You'd not doLike your penurious father, who was wontTo walk his dinner out in Paul's, whilst youKept Lent at home, and had, like folk in sieges,Your meals weigh'd to you.New.Indeed they say he wasA monument of Paul's.Tim.Yes, he was thereAs constant as Duke Humphrey.[235]I can showThe prints where he sat holes i' th' logs.Plot.He woreMore pavement out with walking than would makeA row of new stone-saints, and yet refusedTo give to th' reparation.[236]Bright.I've heardHe'd make his jack go empty to cosen neighbours.Plot.Yes, when there was not fire enough to warmA mastich-patch t' apply to his wife's temples,In great extremity of toothache. This isTrue, Master Timothy, is't not?Tim.Yes: then linenTo us was stranger than to Capuchins.My flesh is of an order with wearing shirtsMade of the sacks that brought o'er cochineal,Copperas, and indigo. My sister wearsSmocks made of currant-bags.Sea.I'll not endure it:Let's show ourselves.[Aside.Ware.Stay: hear all first.[Aside.New.Thy uncle was such another.Plot.I have heardHe still last left th' Exchange; and would commendThe wholesomeness o' th' air in Moorfields, whenThe clock struck three sometimes.Plot.Surely myself,Cypher, his factor, and an ancient catDid keep strict diet, had our Spanish fare,Four olives among three. My uncle wouldLook fat with fasting; I ha' known him surfeitUpon a bunch of raisins, swoon at sightOf a whole joint, and rise an epicureFrom half an orange.[They undisguise.Ware.Gentlemen, 'tis false.Cast off your cloud. D'ye know me, sir?Plot.My uncle!Sea.And do you know me, sir?Tim.My father!Ware.Nay,We'll open all the plot; reveal yourself.Plot.Cypher, the waterman!Quart.Salewit, away!I feel a tempest coming.
Cyph.Pray, which is Master Plotwell?
Plot.I am he, friend;What is your business?
Cyph.Sir, I should speakWith young Master Seathrift too.
Plot.Sir, at this time,Although no crab, like you, to swim backward, he isOf your element.
Cyph.Upon the water?
Plot.No,But something that lives in't. If you but stayTill he have slept himself a land-creature, you mayChance see him come ashore here.
Tim.O—my head—O—Captain—Master Francis—Captain—O——
Plot.That is his voice, sir.
Sea.Death o' my soul! my son!
Cyph.He is in drink, sir, is he?
Plot.Surely, friend, you are a witch;[232]he is so.
Cyph.Then I must tell the news to you: 'tis sad.
Plot.I'll hear't as sadly.
Cyph.Your uncle, sir, and Master Seathrift areBoth drown'd, some eight miles below Greenwich.
Plot.Drown'd!
Cyph.They went i' th' tilt-boat, sir, and I was oneO' th' oars that rowed him: a coal-ship did o'errun us.I 'scaped by swimming; the two old gentlemenTook hold of one another, and sunk together.
Bright.How some men's prayers are heard!We did invokeThe sea this morning, and see, the Thames has took 'em.
Plot.It cannot be: such good news, gentlemen,Cannot be true.
Ware.'Tis very certain, sir.'Twas talk'd upon th' Exchange.
Sea.We heard it tooIn Paul's now, as we came.
Plot.There, friend, there isA fare for you. I'm glad you 'scap'd; I hadNot known the news so soon else.[Gives him money.
Cyph.Sir, excuse me.
Plot.Sir, it is conscience; I do believe you mightSue me in Chancery.
Cyph.Sir, you show the virtues of an heir.
Ware.Are you rich Warehouse's heir, sir?
Plot.Yes, sir, his transitory pelf,And some twelve hundred pound a year in earth,Is cast on me. Captain, the hour is come,You shall no more drink ale, of which one draughtMakes cowards, and spoils valour; nor take offYour moderate quart-glass. I intend to haveA musket for you, or glass-cannon, withA most capacious barrel, which we'll chargeAnd discharge with the rich valiant grapeOf my uncle's cellar. Every charge shall fireThe glass, and burn itself i' th' filling, and lookLike a piece going off.
Quart.I shall be gladTo give thanks for you, sir, in pottle-draughts,And shall love Scotch coal for this wreck the better,As long as I know fuel.
Plot.Then my poetNo longer shall write catches or thin sonnets,Nor preach in verse, as if he were suborn'dBy him that wrote the Whip,[233]to pen lean acts,And so to overthrow the stage for wantOf salt or wit. Nor shall he need tormentOr persecute his Muse; but I will beHis god of wine t' inspire him. He shall no moreConverse with the five-yard butler who, like thunder,Can turn beer with his voice, and roar it sour;But shall come forth a Sophocles, and writeThings for the buskin. Instead of Pegasus,To strike a spring with's hoof, we'll have a steelWhich shall but touch a butt, and straight shall flowA purer, higher, wealthier Helicon.
Sale.Frank, thou shalt be my Phœbus. My next poemShall be thy uncle's tragedy, or the lifeAnd death of two rich merchants.
Plot.Gentlemen,And now, i' faith, what think you of the fish?
Ware.Why as we ought, sir, strangely.
Bright.But do you think it is a very fish?
Sale.Yes.
New.'Tis a man.
Plot.This valiant captain and this man of witFirst fox'd him, then transformed him. We will wake him,And tell him the news. Ho, Master Timothy!
Tim.Plague take you, captain!
Plot.What, does your sack work still?
Tim.Where am I?
Plot.Come, y' have slept enough.
Bright.Master Timothy!How, in the name of fresh cod, came you chang'dInto a sea-calf thus?
New.'Slight, sir, here beTwo fishmongers to buy you; bate the price,Now y' are awake, yourself.
Tim.How's this? my handsTransmuted into claws? my feet made flounders?Array'd in fins and scales? Aren't youAsham'd to make me such a monster? Pray,Help to undress me.
Plot.We have rare news for you.
Tim.No letter from the lady, I hope.
Plot.Your fatherAnd my grave uncle, sir, are cast away.
Tim.How?
Plot.They by this have made a mealFor jacks and salmon: they are drown'd.
Bright.Fall down,And worship sea-coals; for a ship of themHas made you, sir, an heir.
Plot.This fellow hereBrings the auspicious news: and these two friendsOf ours confirm it.
Cyph.'Tis too true, sir.
Tim.Well,We are all mortal; but in what wet caseHad I been now, if I had gone with him!Within this fortnight I had been convertedInto some pike; you might ha' cheapen'd meIn Fish Street; I had made an ordinary,Perchance, at the Mermaid.[234]Now could I cryLike any image in a fountain, whichRuns lamentations. O my hard misfortune![He feigns to weep.
Sea.Fie, sir! good truth, it is not manly in youTo weep for such a slight loss as a father.
Tim.I do not cry for that.
Sea.No?
Tim.No, but to think,My mother is not drown'd too.
Sea.I assure you,And that's a shrewd mischance.
Tim.For then might IHa' gone to th' counting-house, and set at libertyThose harmless angels, which for many yearsHave been condemn'd to darkness.
Plot.You'd not doLike your penurious father, who was wontTo walk his dinner out in Paul's, whilst youKept Lent at home, and had, like folk in sieges,Your meals weigh'd to you.
New.Indeed they say he wasA monument of Paul's.
Tim.Yes, he was thereAs constant as Duke Humphrey.[235]I can showThe prints where he sat holes i' th' logs.
Plot.He woreMore pavement out with walking than would makeA row of new stone-saints, and yet refusedTo give to th' reparation.[236]
Bright.I've heardHe'd make his jack go empty to cosen neighbours.
Plot.Yes, when there was not fire enough to warmA mastich-patch t' apply to his wife's temples,In great extremity of toothache. This isTrue, Master Timothy, is't not?
Tim.Yes: then linenTo us was stranger than to Capuchins.My flesh is of an order with wearing shirtsMade of the sacks that brought o'er cochineal,Copperas, and indigo. My sister wearsSmocks made of currant-bags.
Sea.I'll not endure it:Let's show ourselves.[Aside.
Ware.Stay: hear all first.[Aside.
New.Thy uncle was such another.
Plot.I have heardHe still last left th' Exchange; and would commendThe wholesomeness o' th' air in Moorfields, whenThe clock struck three sometimes.
Plot.Surely myself,Cypher, his factor, and an ancient catDid keep strict diet, had our Spanish fare,Four olives among three. My uncle wouldLook fat with fasting; I ha' known him surfeitUpon a bunch of raisins, swoon at sightOf a whole joint, and rise an epicureFrom half an orange.[They undisguise.
Ware.Gentlemen, 'tis false.Cast off your cloud. D'ye know me, sir?
Plot.My uncle!
Sea.And do you know me, sir?
Tim.My father!
Ware.Nay,We'll open all the plot; reveal yourself.
Plot.Cypher, the waterman!
Quart.Salewit, away!I feel a tempest coming.
[ExitQuartfieldandSalewit.