Four.War, friend, and shining honour has been our province, till rusty peace reduced us to this base obscurity. Ah, Bloody-Bones! ah, when thou and I commanded that party at the siege of Philipsburg, where, in the face of the army, we took the impenetrable half-moon!Bloody-B.Half-moon, sir! by your favour 'twas a whole moon.Four.Brother, thou art in the right; 'twas a full moon, and such a moon, sir!Sir Dav.I doubt it not in the least, gentlemen; but, in the meanwhile, to our business.Four.With all my heart, so soon as you please.Sir Dav.Do you know this Beaugard? He's a devilish fellow, I can tell you that; he's a captain.Four.Has he a heart, think you, sir?Sir Dav.Oh, like a lion! he fears neither God, man, nor devil.Bloody-B.I'll bring it you for your breakfast to-morrow. Did you never eat a man's heart, sir?Sir Dav.Eat a man's heart, friend?Four.Ay, ay, a man's heart, sir; it makes absolutely the best ragout in the world: I have eaten forty of 'em in my time without bread.Sir Dav.O Lord, a man's heart! my humble service to you both, gentlemen.Bloody-B.Why, your Algerine pirates eat nothing else at sea; they have them always potted up like venison: your well-grown Dutchman's heart makes an excellent dish with oil and pepper.Sir Dav.O Lord, O Lord! friend, friend, a word with you: how much must you and your companion have to do this business?Four.What, and bring you the heart home to your house?Sir Dav.No, no, keeping the heart for your own eating.—I'll be rid of 'em as soon as possible I can.
Four.War, friend, and shining honour has been our province, till rusty peace reduced us to this base obscurity. Ah, Bloody-Bones! ah, when thou and I commanded that party at the siege of Philipsburg, where, in the face of the army, we took the impenetrable half-moon!
Bloody-B.Half-moon, sir! by your favour 'twas a whole moon.
Four.Brother, thou art in the right; 'twas a full moon, and such a moon, sir!
Sir Dav.I doubt it not in the least, gentlemen; but, in the meanwhile, to our business.
Four.With all my heart, so soon as you please.
Sir Dav.Do you know this Beaugard? He's a devilish fellow, I can tell you that; he's a captain.
Four.Has he a heart, think you, sir?
Sir Dav.Oh, like a lion! he fears neither God, man, nor devil.
Bloody-B.I'll bring it you for your breakfast to-morrow. Did you never eat a man's heart, sir?
Sir Dav.Eat a man's heart, friend?
Four.Ay, ay, a man's heart, sir; it makes absolutely the best ragout in the world: I have eaten forty of 'em in my time without bread.
Sir Dav.O Lord, a man's heart! my humble service to you both, gentlemen.
Bloody-B.Why, your Algerine pirates eat nothing else at sea; they have them always potted up like venison: your well-grown Dutchman's heart makes an excellent dish with oil and pepper.
Sir Dav.O Lord, O Lord! friend, friend, a word with you: how much must you and your companion have to do this business?
Four.What, and bring you the heart home to your house?
Sir Dav.No, no, keeping the heart for your own eating.—I'll be rid of 'em as soon as possible I can.
[Aside.
Four.You say, sir, he's a gentleman?Sir Dav.Ay, such a sort of gentleman as are about this town: the fellow has a pretty handsome outside; but I believe little or no money in his pockets.Four.Therefore we are like to have the honour to receive the more from your worship's bounty.Bloody-B.For my part, I care for no man's bounty: I expect to have my bargain performed, and I'll make as good a one as I can.Sir Dav.Look you, friend, don't you be angry, friend; don't be angry, friend, before you have occasion: you say you'll have—let's see how much will you have now—I warrant the devil and all, by your good will.Four.Truly, Sir Davy, if, as you say, the man must be well murdered, without any remorse or mercy, betwixt Turk and Jew, 'tis honestly worth two hundred pounds.Sir Dav.Two hundred pounds! why, I'll have a physician shall kill a whole family for half the money.Bloody-B.Damme, sir, how do ye mean?Sir Dav.Damme, sir, how do I mean? Damme, sir, not to part with my money.Bloody-B.Not part, brother?Four.Brother, the wight is improvable, and this must not be borne withal.
Four.You say, sir, he's a gentleman?
Sir Dav.Ay, such a sort of gentleman as are about this town: the fellow has a pretty handsome outside; but I believe little or no money in his pockets.
Four.Therefore we are like to have the honour to receive the more from your worship's bounty.
Bloody-B.For my part, I care for no man's bounty: I expect to have my bargain performed, and I'll make as good a one as I can.
Sir Dav.Look you, friend, don't you be angry, friend; don't be angry, friend, before you have occasion: you say you'll have—let's see how much will you have now—I warrant the devil and all, by your good will.
Four.Truly, Sir Davy, if, as you say, the man must be well murdered, without any remorse or mercy, betwixt Turk and Jew, 'tis honestly worth two hundred pounds.
Sir Dav.Two hundred pounds! why, I'll have a physician shall kill a whole family for half the money.
Bloody-B.Damme, sir, how do ye mean?
Sir Dav.Damme, sir, how do I mean? Damme, sir, not to part with my money.
Bloody-B.Not part, brother?
Four.Brother, the wight is improvable, and this must not be borne withal.
Bloody-B.Have I for this dissolved Circean charms?Broke iron durance; whilst from these firm legsThe well-filed, useless fetters dropped away,And left me master of my native freedom?
Bloody-B.Have I for this dissolved Circean charms?Broke iron durance; whilst from these firm legsThe well-filed, useless fetters dropped away,And left me master of my native freedom?
Sir Dav.What does he mean now?Four.Truly, sir, I am sorry to see it with all my heart; 'tis a distraction that frequently seizes him, though I am sorry it should happen so unluckily at this time.Sir Dav.Distracted, say you? is he so apt to be distracted?Four.Oh, sir, raging mad; we that live by murder are all so; guilt will never let us sleep. I beseech you, sir, stand clear of him; he's apt to be very mischievous at these unfortunate hours.
Sir Dav.What does he mean now?
Four.Truly, sir, I am sorry to see it with all my heart; 'tis a distraction that frequently seizes him, though I am sorry it should happen so unluckily at this time.
Sir Dav.Distracted, say you? is he so apt to be distracted?
Four.Oh, sir, raging mad; we that live by murder are all so; guilt will never let us sleep. I beseech you, sir, stand clear of him; he's apt to be very mischievous at these unfortunate hours.
Bloody-B.Have I been drunk with tender infants' blood,And ripped up teeming wombs? Have these bold handsRansacked the temples of the gods, and stabbedThe priests before their altars? Have I done this? ha!
Bloody-B.Have I been drunk with tender infants' blood,And ripped up teeming wombs? Have these bold handsRansacked the temples of the gods, and stabbedThe priests before their altars? Have I done this? ha!
Sir Dav.No, sir, not that I know, sir; I would not say any such thing for all the world, sir. Worthy gentleman, I beseech you, sir—you seem to be a civil person—I beseech you, sir, to mitigate his passion. I'll do anything in the world; you shall command my whole estate.Four.Nay, after all, sir, if you have not a mind to have him quite murdered, if a swingeing drubbing to bed-rid him, or so, will serve your turn, you may have it at a cheaper rate a great deal.Sir Dav.Truly, sir, with all my heart; for methinks, now I consider matters better, I would not by any means be guilty of another man's blood.Four.Why, then let me consider: to have him beaten substantially, a beating that will stick by him, will cost you—half the money.Sir Dav.What, one hundred pounds! sure the devil's in you, or you would not be so unconscionable.
Sir Dav.No, sir, not that I know, sir; I would not say any such thing for all the world, sir. Worthy gentleman, I beseech you, sir—you seem to be a civil person—I beseech you, sir, to mitigate his passion. I'll do anything in the world; you shall command my whole estate.
Four.Nay, after all, sir, if you have not a mind to have him quite murdered, if a swingeing drubbing to bed-rid him, or so, will serve your turn, you may have it at a cheaper rate a great deal.
Sir Dav.Truly, sir, with all my heart; for methinks, now I consider matters better, I would not by any means be guilty of another man's blood.
Four.Why, then let me consider: to have him beaten substantially, a beating that will stick by him, will cost you—half the money.
Sir Dav.What, one hundred pounds! sure the devil's in you, or you would not be so unconscionable.
Bloody-B.The devil! where? where is the devil? show me;I'll tell thee, Beelzebub, thou'st broke thy covenant;Didst thou not promise me eternal plenty,When I resigned my soul to thy allurements?Sir Dav.Ah, Lord!Bloody-B.Touch me not yet; I've yet ten thousand murdersTo act before I'm thine: with all those sinsI'll come with full damnation to thy cavernsOf endless pain, and howl with thee for ever.
Bloody-B.The devil! where? where is the devil? show me;I'll tell thee, Beelzebub, thou'st broke thy covenant;Didst thou not promise me eternal plenty,When I resigned my soul to thy allurements?
Sir Dav.Ah, Lord!
Bloody-B.Touch me not yet; I've yet ten thousand murdersTo act before I'm thine: with all those sinsI'll come with full damnation to thy cavernsOf endless pain, and howl with thee for ever.
Sir Dav.Bless us! what will become of this mortal body of mine? Where am I? is this a house? do I live? am I flesh and blood?
Sir Dav.Bless us! what will become of this mortal body of mine? Where am I? is this a house? do I live? am I flesh and blood?
Bloody-B.There, there's the fiend again! don't chatter so,And grin at me; if thou must needs have prey,Take here, take him, this tempter that would bribe me,With shining gold,To stain my hands with new iniquity.
Bloody-B.There, there's the fiend again! don't chatter so,And grin at me; if thou must needs have prey,Take here, take him, this tempter that would bribe me,With shining gold,To stain my hands with new iniquity.
Sir Dav.Stand off, I charge thee, Satan, wheresoe'er thou art; thou hast no right nor claim to me; I'll have thee bound in necromantic charms. Hark you, friend, has the gentleman given his soul to the devil?Four.Only pawned it a little; that's all.Sir Dav.Let me beseech you, sir, to despatch, and get rid of him as soon as you can. I would gladly drink a bottle with you, sir, but I hate the devil's company mortally: as for the hundred pound here, it is ready; no more words, I'll submit to your good-nature and discretion.Four.Then, wretch, take this, and make thy peace with the infernal king; he loves riches; sacrifice and be at rest.Bloody-B.'Tis done, I'll follow thee, lead on; nay, if thou smile, I more defy thee; fee, fa, fum. [Exit.Four.'Tis very odd, this.Sir Dav.Very odd, indeed; I'm glad he's gone, though.Four.Now, sir, if you please, we'll refresh ourselves with a cheerful glass, and sochacun chez lui—I would fain make the gull drunk a little, to put a little mettle into him. [Aside.Sir Dav.With all my heart, sir; but no more words of the devil, if you love me.Four.The devil's an ass, sir, and here's a health to all those that defy the devil.Sir Dav.With all my heart, and all his works too.Four.Nay, sir, you must do me right,[45]I assure you.Sir Dav.Not so full, not so full, that's too much of all conscience: in troth, friend, these are sad times, very sad times; but here's to you.Four.Pox o' the times! the times are well enough, so long as a man has money in his pocket.Sir Dav.'Tis true, here I have been bargaining with you about a murder, but never consider that idolatry is coming in full speed upon the nation. Pray what religion are you of, friend?Four.What religion am I of, sir? Sir, your humble servant.Sir Dav.Truly a good conscience is a great happiness; and so I'll pledge you, hemph, hemph. But shan't the dog be murdered this night?Four.My brother rogue is gone by this time to set him, and the business shall be done effectually, I'll warrant you. Here's rest his soul.Sir Dav.With all my heart, faith; I hate to be uncharitable.
Sir Dav.Stand off, I charge thee, Satan, wheresoe'er thou art; thou hast no right nor claim to me; I'll have thee bound in necromantic charms. Hark you, friend, has the gentleman given his soul to the devil?
Four.Only pawned it a little; that's all.
Sir Dav.Let me beseech you, sir, to despatch, and get rid of him as soon as you can. I would gladly drink a bottle with you, sir, but I hate the devil's company mortally: as for the hundred pound here, it is ready; no more words, I'll submit to your good-nature and discretion.
Four.Then, wretch, take this, and make thy peace with the infernal king; he loves riches; sacrifice and be at rest.
Bloody-B.'Tis done, I'll follow thee, lead on; nay, if thou smile, I more defy thee; fee, fa, fum. [Exit.
Four.'Tis very odd, this.
Sir Dav.Very odd, indeed; I'm glad he's gone, though.
Four.Now, sir, if you please, we'll refresh ourselves with a cheerful glass, and sochacun chez lui—I would fain make the gull drunk a little, to put a little mettle into him. [Aside.
Sir Dav.With all my heart, sir; but no more words of the devil, if you love me.
Four.The devil's an ass, sir, and here's a health to all those that defy the devil.
Sir Dav.With all my heart, and all his works too.
Four.Nay, sir, you must do me right,[45]I assure you.
Sir Dav.Not so full, not so full, that's too much of all conscience: in troth, friend, these are sad times, very sad times; but here's to you.
Four.Pox o' the times! the times are well enough, so long as a man has money in his pocket.
Sir Dav.'Tis true, here I have been bargaining with you about a murder, but never consider that idolatry is coming in full speed upon the nation. Pray what religion are you of, friend?
Four.What religion am I of, sir? Sir, your humble servant.
Sir Dav.Truly a good conscience is a great happiness; and so I'll pledge you, hemph, hemph. But shan't the dog be murdered this night?
Four.My brother rogue is gone by this time to set him, and the business shall be done effectually, I'll warrant you. Here's rest his soul.
Sir Dav.With all my heart, faith; I hate to be uncharitable.
Re-enterCourtineandDrawer.
Cour.Look you, 'tis a very impudent thing not to be drunk by this time: shall rogues stay in taverns to sip pints, and be sober, when honest gentlemen are drunk by gallons? I'll have none on't.Sir Dav.O Lord, who's there?[Sits up in his chair.Draw.I beseech your honour—our house will be utterly ruined by this means.Cour.Damn your house, your wife and children, and all your family, you dog!—Sir, who are you?[ToSirDavy.Sir Dav.Who am I, sir? what's that to you, sir? Will you tickle my foot, you rogue?Cour.I'll tickle your guts, you poltroon, presently.Sir Dav.Tickle my guts, you mad-cap! I'll tickle your toby, if you do.Cour.What, with that circumcised band? that grave hypocritical beard, of the reformation-cut? Old fellow, I believe you are a rogue.Sir Dav.Sirrah, you are a whore, an arrant bitch-whore; I'll use you like a whore; I'll kiss you, you jade; I'll ravish you, you buttock; I am a justice of the peace, sirrah, and that's worse.Cour.Damn you, sir, I care not if you were a constable and all his watch: what, such a rogue as you send honest fellows to prison, and countenance whores in your jurisdiction for bribery, you mongrel! I'll beat you, sirrah, I'll brain you; I'll murder you, you mooncalf![Throws the chair after him.Sir Dav.Sir, sir, sir! constable! watch! stocks! stocks! stocks! murder![Exit.Cour.Huzza, Beaugard!
Cour.Look you, 'tis a very impudent thing not to be drunk by this time: shall rogues stay in taverns to sip pints, and be sober, when honest gentlemen are drunk by gallons? I'll have none on't.
Sir Dav.O Lord, who's there?[Sits up in his chair.
Draw.I beseech your honour—our house will be utterly ruined by this means.
Cour.Damn your house, your wife and children, and all your family, you dog!—Sir, who are you?[ToSirDavy.
Sir Dav.Who am I, sir? what's that to you, sir? Will you tickle my foot, you rogue?
Cour.I'll tickle your guts, you poltroon, presently.
Sir Dav.Tickle my guts, you mad-cap! I'll tickle your toby, if you do.
Cour.What, with that circumcised band? that grave hypocritical beard, of the reformation-cut? Old fellow, I believe you are a rogue.
Sir Dav.Sirrah, you are a whore, an arrant bitch-whore; I'll use you like a whore; I'll kiss you, you jade; I'll ravish you, you buttock; I am a justice of the peace, sirrah, and that's worse.
Cour.Damn you, sir, I care not if you were a constable and all his watch: what, such a rogue as you send honest fellows to prison, and countenance whores in your jurisdiction for bribery, you mongrel! I'll beat you, sirrah, I'll brain you; I'll murder you, you mooncalf![Throws the chair after him.
Sir Dav.Sir, sir, sir! constable! watch! stocks! stocks! stocks! murder![Exit.
Cour.Huzza, Beaugard!
Re-enterBeaugardandSirJolly Jumble.
Four.Well, sir, the business is done; we have bargained to murder you.Beau.Murdered! who's to be murdered, ha, Fourbin?Sir Jol.You are to be murdered, friend; you shall be murdered, friend.Beau.But how am I to be murdered? who's to murder me, I beseech you?Four.Your humble servant, Fourbin; I am the man, with your worship's leave: Sir Davy has given me this gold to do it handsomely.Beau.Sir Davy! uncharitable cur; what! murder an honest fellow for being civil to his family! What can this mean, gentlemen?Sir Jol.No, 'tis for not being civil to his family, that it means, gentlemen; therefore are you to be murdered to-night, and buried a-bed with my lady, you Jack Straw, you.Beau.I understand you, friends; the old gentleman has designed to have me butchered, and you have kindly contrived to turn it to my advantage in the affair of love. I am to be murdered but as it were, gentlemen, ha? [ExitCourtine.Four.Your honour has a piercing judgment. Sir, Captain Courtine's gone.Beau.No matter, let him go: he has a design to put in practice this night too, and would perhaps but spoil ours. But when, Sir Jolly, is this business to be brought about?Sir Jol.Presently; 'tis more than time 'twere done already. Go, get you gone, I say. Hold, hold, let's see your left ear first, hum—ha—you are a rogue, you're a rogue; get you gone, get you gone, go.[Exeunt.
Four.Well, sir, the business is done; we have bargained to murder you.
Beau.Murdered! who's to be murdered, ha, Fourbin?
Sir Jol.You are to be murdered, friend; you shall be murdered, friend.
Beau.But how am I to be murdered? who's to murder me, I beseech you?
Four.Your humble servant, Fourbin; I am the man, with your worship's leave: Sir Davy has given me this gold to do it handsomely.
Beau.Sir Davy! uncharitable cur; what! murder an honest fellow for being civil to his family! What can this mean, gentlemen?
Sir Jol.No, 'tis for not being civil to his family, that it means, gentlemen; therefore are you to be murdered to-night, and buried a-bed with my lady, you Jack Straw, you.
Beau.I understand you, friends; the old gentleman has designed to have me butchered, and you have kindly contrived to turn it to my advantage in the affair of love. I am to be murdered but as it were, gentlemen, ha? [ExitCourtine.
Four.Your honour has a piercing judgment. Sir, Captain Courtine's gone.
Beau.No matter, let him go: he has a design to put in practice this night too, and would perhaps but spoil ours. But when, Sir Jolly, is this business to be brought about?
Sir Jol.Presently; 'tis more than time 'twere done already. Go, get you gone, I say. Hold, hold, let's see your left ear first, hum—ha—you are a rogue, you're a rogue; get you gone, get you gone, go.[Exeunt.
EnterSylviaand herMaidin the Balcony.
Maid.But why, madam, will you use him so inhumanly? I'm confident he loves you.Sylv.Oh! a true lover is to be found out like a true saint, by the trial of his patience. Have you the cords ready?Maid.Here they are, madam.Sylv.Let them down, and be sure, when it comes to trial, to pull lustily. Is Will the footman ready?Will.[Within] At your ladyship's command, madam.Sylv.I wonder he should stay so long; the clock has struck twelve.
Maid.But why, madam, will you use him so inhumanly? I'm confident he loves you.
Sylv.Oh! a true lover is to be found out like a true saint, by the trial of his patience. Have you the cords ready?
Maid.Here they are, madam.
Sylv.Let them down, and be sure, when it comes to trial, to pull lustily. Is Will the footman ready?
Will.[Within] At your ladyship's command, madam.
Sylv.I wonder he should stay so long; the clock has struck twelve.
EnterCourtine,singing.
And was she not frank and free,And was she not kind to me,To lock up her cat in her cupboard,And give her key to me, to me?To lock up her cat in her cupboard,And give her key to me?
And was she not frank and free,And was she not kind to me,To lock up her cat in her cupboard,And give her key to me, to me?To lock up her cat in her cupboard,And give her key to me?
Sylv.This must be he: ay, 'tis he, and, as I am a virgin, roaring drunk; but, if I find not a way to make him sober—Cour.Here, here's the window: ay, that's hell-door, and my damnation's in the inside. Sylvia, Sylvia, Sylvia! dear imp of Satan, appear to thy servant.
Sylv.This must be he: ay, 'tis he, and, as I am a virgin, roaring drunk; but, if I find not a way to make him sober—
Cour.Here, here's the window: ay, that's hell-door, and my damnation's in the inside. Sylvia, Sylvia, Sylvia! dear imp of Satan, appear to thy servant.
Sylv.Who calls on Sylvia in this dead of night,When rest is wanting to her longing eyes?Cour.'Tis a poor wretch can hardly stand upright,Drunk with thy love, and if he falls he lies.
Sylv.Who calls on Sylvia in this dead of night,When rest is wanting to her longing eyes?
Cour.'Tis a poor wretch can hardly stand upright,Drunk with thy love, and if he falls he lies.
Sylv.Courtine, is't you?Cour.Yes, sweetheart, 'tis I; art thou ready for me?Sylv.Fasten yourself to that cord there; there, there it is.Cour.Cord! where? Oh, oh, here, here; so, now to Heaven in a string.Sylv.Have you done?Cour.Yes, I have done, child, and would fain be doing too, hussy.Sylv.[ToWill,within.] Then pull away, hoa up, hoa up, hoa up! So, avast there, sir!
Sylv.Courtine, is't you?
Cour.Yes, sweetheart, 'tis I; art thou ready for me?
Sylv.Fasten yourself to that cord there; there, there it is.
Cour.Cord! where? Oh, oh, here, here; so, now to Heaven in a string.
Sylv.Have you done?
Cour.Yes, I have done, child, and would fain be doing too, hussy.
Sylv.[ToWill,within.] Then pull away, hoa up, hoa up, hoa up! So, avast there, sir!
[Courtineis drawn halfway up to the balcony.
Cour.Madam!Sylv.Are you very much in love, sir?Cour.Oh, damnably, child, damnably.Sylv.I am sorry for't with all my heart: good-night, captain.Cour.Ha, gone! what, left in Erasmus' paradise, between Heaven and hell? If the constable should take me now for a straggling monkey hung by the loins, and hunt me with his cry of watchmen? Ah, woman, woman, woman! Well, a merry life and a short, that's all.
Cour.Madam!
Sylv.Are you very much in love, sir?
Cour.Oh, damnably, child, damnably.
Sylv.I am sorry for't with all my heart: good-night, captain.
Cour.Ha, gone! what, left in Erasmus' paradise, between Heaven and hell? If the constable should take me now for a straggling monkey hung by the loins, and hunt me with his cry of watchmen? Ah, woman, woman, woman! Well, a merry life and a short, that's all.
[Sings] God prosper long our noble king,Our lives and safeties all!I am mighty loyal to-night.
[Sings] God prosper long our noble king,Our lives and safeties all!
I am mighty loyal to-night.
EnterFourbinandBloody-Bones,as fromSirDavy Dunce'sHouse.
Four.Murder, murder, murder! help, help, murder!Cour.Nay, if there be murder stirring, 'tis high time to shift for myself.[Climbs up to the balcony.Sylv.[Squeaking.] Ah! [ExeuntSylviaandCourt.Bloody-B.Yonder, yonder he comes; murder, murder, murder!
Four.Murder, murder, murder! help, help, murder!
Cour.Nay, if there be murder stirring, 'tis high time to shift for myself.[Climbs up to the balcony.
Sylv.[Squeaking.] Ah! [ExeuntSylviaandCourt.
Bloody-B.Yonder, yonder he comes; murder, murder, murder!
[ExeuntBloody-BonesandFourbin.
EnterSirDavy Dunce.
Sir Dav.'Tis very late; but murder is a melancholy business, and night is fit for't. I'll go home.[Knocks.Ver.[Within.] Who's there?Sir Dav.Who's there! open the door, you whelp of Babylon.Ver.Oh, sir! you're welcome home; but here is the saddest news! here has been murder committed, sir.Sir Dav.Hold your tongue, you fool, and go to sleep; get you in, do you hear? you talk of murder, you rogue? you meddle with state affairs? get you in.[Exit.
Sir Dav.'Tis very late; but murder is a melancholy business, and night is fit for't. I'll go home.[Knocks.
Ver.[Within.] Who's there?
Sir Dav.Who's there! open the door, you whelp of Babylon.
Ver.Oh, sir! you're welcome home; but here is the saddest news! here has been murder committed, sir.
Sir Dav.Hold your tongue, you fool, and go to sleep; get you in, do you hear? you talk of murder, you rogue? you meddle with state affairs? get you in.[Exit.
SirJolly JumbleandLadyDuncediscovered puttingBeaugardin order, as if he were dead.
Sir Jol.Lie still, lie still, you knave, close, close, when I bid you: you had best quest,[46]and spoil the sport, you had!Beau.But pray how long must I lie thus?L. Dunce.I'll warrant you you'll think the time mighty tedious.Beau.Sweet creature, who can counterfeit death when you are near him?Sir Jol.You shall, sirrah, if a body desires you a little, so you shall; we shall spoil all else, all will be spoiled else, man, if you do not: stretch out longer, longer yet, as long as ever you can. So, so, hold your breath, hold your breath; very well.
Sir Jol.Lie still, lie still, you knave, close, close, when I bid you: you had best quest,[46]and spoil the sport, you had!
Beau.But pray how long must I lie thus?
L. Dunce.I'll warrant you you'll think the time mighty tedious.
Beau.Sweet creature, who can counterfeit death when you are near him?
Sir Jol.You shall, sirrah, if a body desires you a little, so you shall; we shall spoil all else, all will be spoiled else, man, if you do not: stretch out longer, longer yet, as long as ever you can. So, so, hold your breath, hold your breath; very well.
EnterMaid.
Maid.Madam, here comes Sir Davy.Sir Jol.Odds so, now close again as I told you, close, you devil; now stir if you dare; stir but any part about you if you dare now; odd, I'll hit you such a rap if you do! Lie still, lie you still.
Maid.Madam, here comes Sir Davy.
Sir Jol.Odds so, now close again as I told you, close, you devil; now stir if you dare; stir but any part about you if you dare now; odd, I'll hit you such a rap if you do! Lie still, lie you still.
EnterSirDavy Dunce.
Sir Dav.My dear, how dost thou do, my dear? I am come.L. Dunce.Ah, sir, what is't you've done? you've ruined me; your family, your fortune, all is ruined; where shall we go, or whither shall we fly?Sir Dav.Where shall we go! why, we'll go to bed, you little jackadandy: why, you are not a wench, you rogue, you are a boy, a very boy, and I love you the better for't: sirrah, hey!L. Dunce.Ah, sir, see there.Sir Dav.Bless us! a man! and bloody! what, upon my hall-table!L. Dunce.Two ruffians brought him in just now, pronouncing the inhuman deed was done by your command: Sir Jolly came in the same minute, or sure I had died with my distracting fears. How could you think on a revenge so horrid?Sir Dav.As I hope to be saved, neighbour, I only bargained with them to bastinado him in a way, or so, as one friend might do to another: but do you say that he is dead?Sir Jol.Dead, dead as clay; stark stiff and useless all, nothing about him stirring, but all's cold and still. I knew him a lusty fellow once, a very mettled fellow; 'tis a thousand pities!Sir Dav.What shall I do? I'll throw myself upon him, kiss his wide wounds, and weep till blind as buzzard.L. Dunce.Oh, come not near him; there's such horrid antipathy follows all murders, his wounds would stream afresh should you but touch him.[47]Sir Dav.Dear neighbour, dearest neighbour, friend, Sir Jolly, as you love charity, pity my wretched case, and give me counsel; I'll give my wife and all my estate to have him live again; or shall I bury him in the arbour, at the upper end of the garden?Sir Jol.Alas-a-day, neighbour, never think on't, never think on't; the dogs will find him there, as they scrape holes to bury bones in; there is but one way that I know of.Sir Dav.What is it, dear neighbour, what is it? You see I am upon my knees to you; take all I have and ease me of my fears.Sir Jol.Truly the best thing that I can think ofis putting of him to bed, putting him into a warm bed, and try to fetch him to life again; a warm bed is the best thing in the world. My lady may do much too, she's a good woman, and, as I've been told, understands a green wound well.Sir Dav.My dear, my dear, my dear!L. Dunce.Bear me away! oh, send me hence far off, where my unhappy name may be a stranger, and this sad accident no more remembered to my dishonour!Sir Dav.Ah, but my love! my joy! are there no bowels in thee?L. Dunce.What would you have me do?Sir Dav.Pr'ythee do so much as try thy skill; there may be one dram of life left in him yet. Take him up to thy chamber, put him into thy own bed, and try what thou canst do with him; pr'ythee do: if thou canst but find motion in him, all may be well yet. I'll go up to my closet in the garret, and say my prayers in the mean while.L. Dunce.Will ye then leave this ruin on my hands?Sir Dav.Pray, pray, my dear; I beseech you, neighbour, help to persuade her if it be possible.Sir Jol.Faith, madam, do, try what you can do. I have a great fancy you may do him good; who can tell but you may have the gift of stroking? Pray, madam, be persuaded.L. Dunce.I'll do whate'er's your pleasure.Sir Dav.That's my best dear: I'll go to my closet and pray for thee heartily. Alas, alas, that ever this should happen![Exit.Beau.So, is he gone, madam, my angel?Sir Jol.What, no thanks, no reward for old Jolly now? Come hither, hussy, you little canary-bird, you little hop-o'-my-thumb, come hither: make me a curtsey, and give me a kiss now, ha! give me a kiss,I say; odd, I will have a kiss, so I will, I will have a kiss if I set on't. Shoogh, shoogh, shoogh, get you into a corner when I bid you, shoogh, shoogh, shoogh—what, there already? [She goes toBeaugard.] Well, I ha' done, I ha' done; this 'tis to be an old fellow now.Beau.And will you save the life of him you've wounded?L. Dunce.Dare you trust yourself to my skill for a cure?[SirDavyappears at a window above.Sir Jol.Hist! hist! Close, close, I say again; yonder's Sir Davy, odds so!Sir Dav.My dear! my dear! my dear!L. Dunce.Who's that calls? my love, is't you?Sir Dav.Ay, some comfort or my heart's broke! are there any hopes yet? I've tried to say my prayers, and cannot: if he be quite dead, I shall never pray again! Neighbour, no hopes?Sir Jol.Truly little or none; some small pulse I think there is left, very little: there's nothing to be done if you don't pray: get you to prayers whatever you do. Get you gone; nay, don't stay now, shut the window, I tell you.Sir Dav.Well, this is a great trouble to me; but good-night.[Retires.Sir Jol.Good-night to you, dear neighbour.—Get ye up, get ye up, and begone into the next room presently, make haste. [ToBeaugardandLadyDunce.] But don't steal away till I come to you; be sure ye remember, don't ye stir till I come—pish, none of this bowing and fooling, it but loses time; I'll only bolt the door that belongs to Sir Davy's lodgings, that he may be safe, and be with you in a twinkle. Ah—so, now for the door; very well, friend, you are fast.
Sir Dav.My dear, how dost thou do, my dear? I am come.
L. Dunce.Ah, sir, what is't you've done? you've ruined me; your family, your fortune, all is ruined; where shall we go, or whither shall we fly?
Sir Dav.Where shall we go! why, we'll go to bed, you little jackadandy: why, you are not a wench, you rogue, you are a boy, a very boy, and I love you the better for't: sirrah, hey!
L. Dunce.Ah, sir, see there.
Sir Dav.Bless us! a man! and bloody! what, upon my hall-table!
L. Dunce.Two ruffians brought him in just now, pronouncing the inhuman deed was done by your command: Sir Jolly came in the same minute, or sure I had died with my distracting fears. How could you think on a revenge so horrid?
Sir Dav.As I hope to be saved, neighbour, I only bargained with them to bastinado him in a way, or so, as one friend might do to another: but do you say that he is dead?
Sir Jol.Dead, dead as clay; stark stiff and useless all, nothing about him stirring, but all's cold and still. I knew him a lusty fellow once, a very mettled fellow; 'tis a thousand pities!
Sir Dav.What shall I do? I'll throw myself upon him, kiss his wide wounds, and weep till blind as buzzard.
L. Dunce.Oh, come not near him; there's such horrid antipathy follows all murders, his wounds would stream afresh should you but touch him.[47]
Sir Dav.Dear neighbour, dearest neighbour, friend, Sir Jolly, as you love charity, pity my wretched case, and give me counsel; I'll give my wife and all my estate to have him live again; or shall I bury him in the arbour, at the upper end of the garden?
Sir Jol.Alas-a-day, neighbour, never think on't, never think on't; the dogs will find him there, as they scrape holes to bury bones in; there is but one way that I know of.
Sir Dav.What is it, dear neighbour, what is it? You see I am upon my knees to you; take all I have and ease me of my fears.
Sir Jol.Truly the best thing that I can think ofis putting of him to bed, putting him into a warm bed, and try to fetch him to life again; a warm bed is the best thing in the world. My lady may do much too, she's a good woman, and, as I've been told, understands a green wound well.
Sir Dav.My dear, my dear, my dear!
L. Dunce.Bear me away! oh, send me hence far off, where my unhappy name may be a stranger, and this sad accident no more remembered to my dishonour!
Sir Dav.Ah, but my love! my joy! are there no bowels in thee?
L. Dunce.What would you have me do?
Sir Dav.Pr'ythee do so much as try thy skill; there may be one dram of life left in him yet. Take him up to thy chamber, put him into thy own bed, and try what thou canst do with him; pr'ythee do: if thou canst but find motion in him, all may be well yet. I'll go up to my closet in the garret, and say my prayers in the mean while.
L. Dunce.Will ye then leave this ruin on my hands?
Sir Dav.Pray, pray, my dear; I beseech you, neighbour, help to persuade her if it be possible.
Sir Jol.Faith, madam, do, try what you can do. I have a great fancy you may do him good; who can tell but you may have the gift of stroking? Pray, madam, be persuaded.
L. Dunce.I'll do whate'er's your pleasure.
Sir Dav.That's my best dear: I'll go to my closet and pray for thee heartily. Alas, alas, that ever this should happen![Exit.
Beau.So, is he gone, madam, my angel?
Sir Jol.What, no thanks, no reward for old Jolly now? Come hither, hussy, you little canary-bird, you little hop-o'-my-thumb, come hither: make me a curtsey, and give me a kiss now, ha! give me a kiss,I say; odd, I will have a kiss, so I will, I will have a kiss if I set on't. Shoogh, shoogh, shoogh, get you into a corner when I bid you, shoogh, shoogh, shoogh—what, there already? [She goes toBeaugard.] Well, I ha' done, I ha' done; this 'tis to be an old fellow now.
Beau.And will you save the life of him you've wounded?
L. Dunce.Dare you trust yourself to my skill for a cure?[SirDavyappears at a window above.
Sir Jol.Hist! hist! Close, close, I say again; yonder's Sir Davy, odds so!
Sir Dav.My dear! my dear! my dear!
L. Dunce.Who's that calls? my love, is't you?
Sir Dav.Ay, some comfort or my heart's broke! are there any hopes yet? I've tried to say my prayers, and cannot: if he be quite dead, I shall never pray again! Neighbour, no hopes?
Sir Jol.Truly little or none; some small pulse I think there is left, very little: there's nothing to be done if you don't pray: get you to prayers whatever you do. Get you gone; nay, don't stay now, shut the window, I tell you.
Sir Dav.Well, this is a great trouble to me; but good-night.[Retires.
Sir Jol.Good-night to you, dear neighbour.—Get ye up, get ye up, and begone into the next room presently, make haste. [ToBeaugardandLadyDunce.] But don't steal away till I come to you; be sure ye remember, don't ye stir till I come—pish, none of this bowing and fooling, it but loses time; I'll only bolt the door that belongs to Sir Davy's lodgings, that he may be safe, and be with you in a twinkle. Ah—so, now for the door; very well, friend, you are fast.
[Bolts the door and sings.
Bonny lass, gan thoo wert mine,And twonty thoosand poonds aboot thee, &c.[Exeunt.
Bonny lass, gan thoo wert mine,And twonty thoosand poonds aboot thee, &c.[Exeunt.
FOOTNOTES:[41]Louis XIV.[42]Take it off.[43]This probably refers to the supposed murder, in 1678, of Sir Edmundsbury Godfrey, the magistrate before whom Titus Oates made his incredible depositions concerning the alleged Popish plot. Many believed it was a case of suicide. He was found pierced through with his own sword on Primrose Hill. But the infamous Bedloe, a convicted felon, and accomplice of Titus Oates, accused Queen Catharine's Catholic servants of murdering Godfrey in Somerset House, where the queen then resided, and so struck at the queen herself. Oates and he afterwards accused her of conspiring to murder the king. But Charles was not so mad and bad as to believe them. Godfrey had warned one of the denounced persons, Coleman, and the murder, if it was one, is now generally attributed to the Ultra-Protestant faction. At any rate, they used the incident to inflame the public mind against the Roman Catholics.[44]Algiers.[45]i.e.Drink to him.[46]Sporting dogs used to be called "questing hounds" (see Malory, for instance), and a hound may run forward in pursuit at the wrong moment. This is evidently the allusion here.[47]An allusion to the common superstition that if the murderer touched the dead body the wounds would commence to bleed afresh.
[41]Louis XIV.
[41]Louis XIV.
[42]Take it off.
[42]Take it off.
[43]This probably refers to the supposed murder, in 1678, of Sir Edmundsbury Godfrey, the magistrate before whom Titus Oates made his incredible depositions concerning the alleged Popish plot. Many believed it was a case of suicide. He was found pierced through with his own sword on Primrose Hill. But the infamous Bedloe, a convicted felon, and accomplice of Titus Oates, accused Queen Catharine's Catholic servants of murdering Godfrey in Somerset House, where the queen then resided, and so struck at the queen herself. Oates and he afterwards accused her of conspiring to murder the king. But Charles was not so mad and bad as to believe them. Godfrey had warned one of the denounced persons, Coleman, and the murder, if it was one, is now generally attributed to the Ultra-Protestant faction. At any rate, they used the incident to inflame the public mind against the Roman Catholics.
[43]This probably refers to the supposed murder, in 1678, of Sir Edmundsbury Godfrey, the magistrate before whom Titus Oates made his incredible depositions concerning the alleged Popish plot. Many believed it was a case of suicide. He was found pierced through with his own sword on Primrose Hill. But the infamous Bedloe, a convicted felon, and accomplice of Titus Oates, accused Queen Catharine's Catholic servants of murdering Godfrey in Somerset House, where the queen then resided, and so struck at the queen herself. Oates and he afterwards accused her of conspiring to murder the king. But Charles was not so mad and bad as to believe them. Godfrey had warned one of the denounced persons, Coleman, and the murder, if it was one, is now generally attributed to the Ultra-Protestant faction. At any rate, they used the incident to inflame the public mind against the Roman Catholics.
[44]Algiers.
[44]Algiers.
[45]i.e.Drink to him.
[45]i.e.Drink to him.
[46]Sporting dogs used to be called "questing hounds" (see Malory, for instance), and a hound may run forward in pursuit at the wrong moment. This is evidently the allusion here.
[46]Sporting dogs used to be called "questing hounds" (see Malory, for instance), and a hound may run forward in pursuit at the wrong moment. This is evidently the allusion here.
[47]An allusion to the common superstition that if the murderer touched the dead body the wounds would commence to bleed afresh.
[47]An allusion to the common superstition that if the murderer touched the dead body the wounds would commence to bleed afresh.
Courtinediscovered bound on a couch.
Cour.Heigho! heigho! Ha! where am I? Was I drunk or no, last night? Something leaning that way. But where the devil am I? sincerely in a bawdy-house: faugh! what a smell of sin is here! Let me look about; if there be ever a Geneva Bible or aPractice of Pietyin the room, I am sure I have guessed right. What's the matter now? tied fast! bound too! What tricks have I played to come into this condition? I have lighted into the territories of some merrily-disposed chambermaid or other; and she in a witty fit, forsooth, hath trussed me up thus: has she pinned no rags to my tail, or chalked me upon the back, trow? Would I had her mistress here at a venture!
Cour.Heigho! heigho! Ha! where am I? Was I drunk or no, last night? Something leaning that way. But where the devil am I? sincerely in a bawdy-house: faugh! what a smell of sin is here! Let me look about; if there be ever a Geneva Bible or aPractice of Pietyin the room, I am sure I have guessed right. What's the matter now? tied fast! bound too! What tricks have I played to come into this condition? I have lighted into the territories of some merrily-disposed chambermaid or other; and she in a witty fit, forsooth, hath trussed me up thus: has she pinned no rags to my tail, or chalked me upon the back, trow? Would I had her mistress here at a venture!
EnterSylviaandMaid.
Sylv.What would you do with her, my enchanted knight, if you had her? you are too sober for her by this time: next time you get drunk, you may perhaps venture to scale her balcony like a valiant captain as you are.Cour.Hast thou done this, my dear destruction? and am I in thy limbo? I must confess, when I am in my beer, my courage does run away with me now and then; but let me loose, and thou shalt see whata gentle humble animal thou hast made me. Fie upon't! what, tie me up like an ungovernable cur to the frame of a table! let, let thy poor dog loose, that he may fawn and make much of thee a little.Sylv.What, with those paws which you have been ferreting Moor-fields withal, and are very dirty still? After you have been daggling[48]yourself abroad for prey, and can meet with none, you come sneaking hither for a crust, do you?Maid.Shall I fetch the whip and the bell, madam, and slash him for his roguery soundly?Cour.Indeed, indeed! Do you long to be ferking[49]of man's flesh, madam flea-trap? Does the chaplain of the family use you to the exercise, that you are so ready for it?Sylv.If you should be let loose, and taken into favour now, you would be for rambling again so soon as you had got your liberty.Cour.Do but try me, and if ever I prove recreant more, let me be beaten and used like a dog in good earnest.Sylv.Promise to grant me but one request, and it shall be done.Cour.Hear me but swear.Sylv.That anybody may do ten thousand times a-day.Cour.Upon the word of a gentleman; nay, as I hope to get money in pocket.Sylv.There I believe him, lelely.[50]You'll keep your word, you say?Cour.If I don't, hang me up in that wench's old garters.Sylv.See, sir, you have your freedom.[Unbinds him.Cour.Well, now name the price; what I must pay for't?Sylv.You know, sir, considering our small acquaintance, you have been pleased to talk to me very freely of love-matters.Cour.I must confess, I have been something to blame that way; but if ever thou hearest more of it from my mouth after this night's adventure—would I were well out of the house!Sylv.Have a care of swearing, I beseech you; for you must understand that, spite of my teeth, I am at last fallen in love most unmercifully.Cour.And dost thou imagine I am so hard-hearted a villain as to have no compassion of thee?Sylv.No, for I hope he's a man you can have no exceptions against.Cour.Yes, yes, the man is a man, I'll assure you, that's one comfort.Sylv.Who do you think it may be now? try if you can guess him.Cour.Whoever he is, he's an honest fellow, I'll warrant him, and I believe will not think himself very unhappy neither.Sylv.If a fortune of five thousand pounds, pleasant nights, and quiet days, can make him happy, I assure you he may be so; but try once to guess at him.Cour.But if I should be mistaken?Sylv.Why, who is it you would wish me to?Cour.You have five thousand pound, you say?Sylv.Yes.Cour.Faith, child, to deal honestly, I know well enough who 'tis I wish for; but, sweetheart, before I tell you my inclinations, it were but reasonable that I knew yours.Sylv.Well, sir, because I am confident you will stand my friend in the business, I'll make a discovery; and to hold you in suspense no longer, you must know I have a month's mind[51]to an arm-full of yourdearly-beloved friend and brother captain; what say you to't?Cour.Madam, your humble servant; good-bye, that's all.Sylv.What, thus cruelly leave a lady that so kindly took you in, in your last night's pickle, into her lodging? whither would you rove now, my wanderer?Cour.Faith, madam, you have dealt so gallantly in trusting me with your passion, that I cannot stay here without telling you, that I am three times as much in love with an acquaintance of yours, as you can be with any friend of mine.Sylv.Not with my waiting-woman, I hope, sir.Cour.No, but it is with a certain kinswoman of thine, child; they call her my Lady Dunce, and I think this is her house too; they say she will be civil upon a good occasion, therefore, pr'ythee be charitable, and show the way to her chamber a little.Sylv.What, commit adultery, captain? fie upon't! what, hazard your soul?Cour.No, no, only venture my body a little, that's all; look you, you know the secret, and may imagine my desires, therefore as you would have me assist your inclinations, pray be civil and help me to mine; look you, no demurring upon the matter, no qualms, but show me the way—[To theMaid] or you, hussy, you shall do't; any bawd will serve at present, for I will go.[ExitMaid.Sylv.But you shan't go, sir.Cour.Shan't go, lady?Sylv.No, shan't go, sir; did I not tell you when once you had got your liberty, that you would be rambling again.Cour.Why, child, wouldst thou be so uncharitable to tie up a poor jade to an empty rack in thy stable, when he knows where to go elsewhere, and get provender enough?Sylv.Any musty provender, I find, will serve your turn, so you have it but cheap, or at another man's charges.Cour.No, child, I had rather my ox should graze in a field of my own, than live hide-bound upon the common, or run the hazard of being pounded every day for trespasses.Sylv.Truly, all things considered, 'tis a great pity so good a husbandman as you should want a farm to cultivate.Cour.Wouldst thou be but kind, and let me have a bargain in a tenement of thine, to try how it would agree with me!Sylv.And would you be contented to take a lease for your life?Cour.So pretty a lady of the manor, and a moderate rent!Sylv.Which you'll be sure to pay very punctually?Cour.If thou doubtest my honesty, faith, e'en take a little earnest beforehand.Sylv.Not so hasty neither, good tenant.Imprimis, you shall oblige yourself to a constant residence, and not, by leaving the house uninhabited, let it run to repairs.Cour.Agreed.Sylv.Item, for your own sake you shall promise to keep the estate well fenced and inclosed, lest some time or other your neighbour's cattle break in and spoil the crop on the ground, friend.Cour.Very just and reasonable, provided I don't find it lie too much to common already.Sylv.Item, you shall enter into strict covenant not to take any other farm upon your hands, without my consent and approbation; or, if you do, that then it shall be lawful for me to get me another tenant, how and where I think fit.Cour.Faith, that's something hard though, let me tell you but that, landlady.Sylv.Upon these terms, we'll draw articles.Cour.And when shall we sign them?Sylv.Why, this morning, as soon as the ten o'clock office in Covent-garden is open.Cour.A bargain; but how will you answer your entertainment of a drunken red-coat in your lodgings at these unseasonable hours?Sylv.That's a secret you will be hereafter obliged to keep for your own sake; and for the family, your friend Beaugard shall answer for us there.Cour.Indeed I fancied the rogue had mischief in his head, he behaved himself so soberly last night: has he taken a farm lately too?Sylv.A trespasser, I believe, if the truth were known, upon the provender you would fain have been biting at just now.
Sylv.What would you do with her, my enchanted knight, if you had her? you are too sober for her by this time: next time you get drunk, you may perhaps venture to scale her balcony like a valiant captain as you are.
Cour.Hast thou done this, my dear destruction? and am I in thy limbo? I must confess, when I am in my beer, my courage does run away with me now and then; but let me loose, and thou shalt see whata gentle humble animal thou hast made me. Fie upon't! what, tie me up like an ungovernable cur to the frame of a table! let, let thy poor dog loose, that he may fawn and make much of thee a little.
Sylv.What, with those paws which you have been ferreting Moor-fields withal, and are very dirty still? After you have been daggling[48]yourself abroad for prey, and can meet with none, you come sneaking hither for a crust, do you?
Maid.Shall I fetch the whip and the bell, madam, and slash him for his roguery soundly?
Cour.Indeed, indeed! Do you long to be ferking[49]of man's flesh, madam flea-trap? Does the chaplain of the family use you to the exercise, that you are so ready for it?
Sylv.If you should be let loose, and taken into favour now, you would be for rambling again so soon as you had got your liberty.
Cour.Do but try me, and if ever I prove recreant more, let me be beaten and used like a dog in good earnest.
Sylv.Promise to grant me but one request, and it shall be done.
Cour.Hear me but swear.
Sylv.That anybody may do ten thousand times a-day.
Cour.Upon the word of a gentleman; nay, as I hope to get money in pocket.
Sylv.There I believe him, lelely.[50]You'll keep your word, you say?
Cour.If I don't, hang me up in that wench's old garters.
Sylv.See, sir, you have your freedom.[Unbinds him.
Cour.Well, now name the price; what I must pay for't?
Sylv.You know, sir, considering our small acquaintance, you have been pleased to talk to me very freely of love-matters.
Cour.I must confess, I have been something to blame that way; but if ever thou hearest more of it from my mouth after this night's adventure—would I were well out of the house!
Sylv.Have a care of swearing, I beseech you; for you must understand that, spite of my teeth, I am at last fallen in love most unmercifully.
Cour.And dost thou imagine I am so hard-hearted a villain as to have no compassion of thee?
Sylv.No, for I hope he's a man you can have no exceptions against.
Cour.Yes, yes, the man is a man, I'll assure you, that's one comfort.
Sylv.Who do you think it may be now? try if you can guess him.
Cour.Whoever he is, he's an honest fellow, I'll warrant him, and I believe will not think himself very unhappy neither.
Sylv.If a fortune of five thousand pounds, pleasant nights, and quiet days, can make him happy, I assure you he may be so; but try once to guess at him.
Cour.But if I should be mistaken?
Sylv.Why, who is it you would wish me to?
Cour.You have five thousand pound, you say?
Sylv.Yes.
Cour.Faith, child, to deal honestly, I know well enough who 'tis I wish for; but, sweetheart, before I tell you my inclinations, it were but reasonable that I knew yours.
Sylv.Well, sir, because I am confident you will stand my friend in the business, I'll make a discovery; and to hold you in suspense no longer, you must know I have a month's mind[51]to an arm-full of yourdearly-beloved friend and brother captain; what say you to't?
Cour.Madam, your humble servant; good-bye, that's all.
Sylv.What, thus cruelly leave a lady that so kindly took you in, in your last night's pickle, into her lodging? whither would you rove now, my wanderer?
Cour.Faith, madam, you have dealt so gallantly in trusting me with your passion, that I cannot stay here without telling you, that I am three times as much in love with an acquaintance of yours, as you can be with any friend of mine.
Sylv.Not with my waiting-woman, I hope, sir.
Cour.No, but it is with a certain kinswoman of thine, child; they call her my Lady Dunce, and I think this is her house too; they say she will be civil upon a good occasion, therefore, pr'ythee be charitable, and show the way to her chamber a little.
Sylv.What, commit adultery, captain? fie upon't! what, hazard your soul?
Cour.No, no, only venture my body a little, that's all; look you, you know the secret, and may imagine my desires, therefore as you would have me assist your inclinations, pray be civil and help me to mine; look you, no demurring upon the matter, no qualms, but show me the way—[To theMaid] or you, hussy, you shall do't; any bawd will serve at present, for I will go.[ExitMaid.
Sylv.But you shan't go, sir.
Cour.Shan't go, lady?
Sylv.No, shan't go, sir; did I not tell you when once you had got your liberty, that you would be rambling again.
Cour.Why, child, wouldst thou be so uncharitable to tie up a poor jade to an empty rack in thy stable, when he knows where to go elsewhere, and get provender enough?
Sylv.Any musty provender, I find, will serve your turn, so you have it but cheap, or at another man's charges.
Cour.No, child, I had rather my ox should graze in a field of my own, than live hide-bound upon the common, or run the hazard of being pounded every day for trespasses.
Sylv.Truly, all things considered, 'tis a great pity so good a husbandman as you should want a farm to cultivate.
Cour.Wouldst thou be but kind, and let me have a bargain in a tenement of thine, to try how it would agree with me!
Sylv.And would you be contented to take a lease for your life?
Cour.So pretty a lady of the manor, and a moderate rent!
Sylv.Which you'll be sure to pay very punctually?
Cour.If thou doubtest my honesty, faith, e'en take a little earnest beforehand.
Sylv.Not so hasty neither, good tenant.Imprimis, you shall oblige yourself to a constant residence, and not, by leaving the house uninhabited, let it run to repairs.
Cour.Agreed.
Sylv.Item, for your own sake you shall promise to keep the estate well fenced and inclosed, lest some time or other your neighbour's cattle break in and spoil the crop on the ground, friend.
Cour.Very just and reasonable, provided I don't find it lie too much to common already.
Sylv.Item, you shall enter into strict covenant not to take any other farm upon your hands, without my consent and approbation; or, if you do, that then it shall be lawful for me to get me another tenant, how and where I think fit.
Cour.Faith, that's something hard though, let me tell you but that, landlady.
Sylv.Upon these terms, we'll draw articles.
Cour.And when shall we sign them?
Sylv.Why, this morning, as soon as the ten o'clock office in Covent-garden is open.
Cour.A bargain; but how will you answer your entertainment of a drunken red-coat in your lodgings at these unseasonable hours?
Sylv.That's a secret you will be hereafter obliged to keep for your own sake; and for the family, your friend Beaugard shall answer for us there.
Cour.Indeed I fancied the rogue had mischief in his head, he behaved himself so soberly last night: has he taken a farm lately too?
Sylv.A trespasser, I believe, if the truth were known, upon the provender you would fain have been biting at just now.
Re-enterMaid.
Maid.Madam, madam, have a care of yourself: I see lights in the great hall; whatever is the matter, Sir Davy and all the family are up.Cour.I hope they'll come, and catch me here: well, now you have brought me into this condition, what will you do with me, ha?Sylv.You won't be contented for awhile to be tied up like a jade to an empty rack without hay, will you?Cour.Faith, e'en take me, and put thy mark upon me quickly, that if I light into strange hands they may know me for a sheep of thine.Sylv.What, by your wanting a fleece do you mean? If it must be so, come follow your shepherdess. Ba-a-a! [Exeunt.
Maid.Madam, madam, have a care of yourself: I see lights in the great hall; whatever is the matter, Sir Davy and all the family are up.
Cour.I hope they'll come, and catch me here: well, now you have brought me into this condition, what will you do with me, ha?
Sylv.You won't be contented for awhile to be tied up like a jade to an empty rack without hay, will you?
Cour.Faith, e'en take me, and put thy mark upon me quickly, that if I light into strange hands they may know me for a sheep of thine.
Sylv.What, by your wanting a fleece do you mean? If it must be so, come follow your shepherdess. Ba-a-a! [Exeunt.
EnterSirDavy DunceandVermin.
Sir Dav.I cannot sleep, I shall never sleep again: I have prayed too so long, that were I to be hanged presently, I have never a prayer left to help myself: I was no sooner lain down upon the bed just now, and fallen into a slumber, but methought the devil was carrying me down Ludgate-hill a-gallop, six puny fiends with flaming fire-forks running before him like link-boys, to throw me headlong into Fleetditch, which seemed to be turned into a lake of fire and brimstone: would it were morning!Ver.Truly, sir, it has been a very dismal night.Sir Dav.But didst thou meet never a white thing upon the stairs?Ver.No, sir, not I; but methoughts I saw our great dog Towzer, with his brass collar on, stand at the cellar-door as I came along the old entry.Sir Dav.It could never be: Towzer has a chain; had this thing a chain on?Ver.No, sir, no chain, but it had Towzer's eyes for all the world.Sir Dav.What, ugly, great, frightful eyes?Ver.Ay, ay, huge saucer eyes, but mightily like Towzer's.Sir Dav.O Lord! O Lord! hark! hark!Ver.What? what I beseech you, sir?Sir Dav.What's that upon the stairs? Didst thou hear nothing? Hist, hark, pat, pat, pat, hark, hey!Ver.Hear nothing! where, sir?Sir Dav.Look! look! what's that? what's that in the corner there?Ver.Where?Sir Dav.There.Ver.What, upon the iron chest?Sir Dav.No, the long black thing up by the oldclock-case. See! see! now it stirs, and is coming this way.Ver.Alas, sir, speak to it—you are a justice o' peace—I beseech you. I dare not stay in the house: I'll call the watch, and tell 'em hell's broke loose; what shall I do? oh! [Exit.Sir Dav.O Vermin, if thou art a true servant, have pity on thy master, and do not forsake me in this distressed condition. Satan, begone! I defy thee. I'll repent and be saved, I'll say my prayers, I'll go to church; help! help! help! Was there anything or no? in what hole shall I hide myself? [Exit.
Sir Dav.I cannot sleep, I shall never sleep again: I have prayed too so long, that were I to be hanged presently, I have never a prayer left to help myself: I was no sooner lain down upon the bed just now, and fallen into a slumber, but methought the devil was carrying me down Ludgate-hill a-gallop, six puny fiends with flaming fire-forks running before him like link-boys, to throw me headlong into Fleetditch, which seemed to be turned into a lake of fire and brimstone: would it were morning!
Ver.Truly, sir, it has been a very dismal night.
Sir Dav.But didst thou meet never a white thing upon the stairs?
Ver.No, sir, not I; but methoughts I saw our great dog Towzer, with his brass collar on, stand at the cellar-door as I came along the old entry.
Sir Dav.It could never be: Towzer has a chain; had this thing a chain on?
Ver.No, sir, no chain, but it had Towzer's eyes for all the world.
Sir Dav.What, ugly, great, frightful eyes?
Ver.Ay, ay, huge saucer eyes, but mightily like Towzer's.
Sir Dav.O Lord! O Lord! hark! hark!
Ver.What? what I beseech you, sir?
Sir Dav.What's that upon the stairs? Didst thou hear nothing? Hist, hark, pat, pat, pat, hark, hey!
Ver.Hear nothing! where, sir?
Sir Dav.Look! look! what's that? what's that in the corner there?
Ver.Where?
Sir Dav.There.
Ver.What, upon the iron chest?
Sir Dav.No, the long black thing up by the oldclock-case. See! see! now it stirs, and is coming this way.
Ver.Alas, sir, speak to it—you are a justice o' peace—I beseech you. I dare not stay in the house: I'll call the watch, and tell 'em hell's broke loose; what shall I do? oh! [Exit.
Sir Dav.O Vermin, if thou art a true servant, have pity on thy master, and do not forsake me in this distressed condition. Satan, begone! I defy thee. I'll repent and be saved, I'll say my prayers, I'll go to church; help! help! help! Was there anything or no? in what hole shall I hide myself? [Exit.
EnterSirJolly,Fourbin,andBloody-Bones.
Sir Jol.That should be Sir Davy's voice; the waiting-woman, indeed, told me he was afraid and could not sleep. Pretty fellows, pretty fellows both; you've done your business handsomely; what, I'll warrant you have been a-whoring together now; ha! You do well, you do well, I like you the better for't; what's o'clock?Four.Near four, sir; 'twill not be day yet these two hours.Sir Jol.Very well, but how got ye into the house?Four.A ragged retainer of the family, Vermin I think they call him, let us in as physicians sent for by your order.Sir Jol.Excellent rogues! and then I hope all things are ready, as I gave directions?Four.To a tittle, sir; there shall not be a more critical observer of your worship's pleasure than your humble servant the Chevalier Fourbin.Sir Jol.Get you gone, you rogue, you have a sharp nose, and are a nimble fellow; I have no more to say to you, stand aside, and be ready when I call: here he comes; hist, hem, hem, hem.
Sir Jol.That should be Sir Davy's voice; the waiting-woman, indeed, told me he was afraid and could not sleep. Pretty fellows, pretty fellows both; you've done your business handsomely; what, I'll warrant you have been a-whoring together now; ha! You do well, you do well, I like you the better for't; what's o'clock?
Four.Near four, sir; 'twill not be day yet these two hours.
Sir Jol.Very well, but how got ye into the house?
Four.A ragged retainer of the family, Vermin I think they call him, let us in as physicians sent for by your order.
Sir Jol.Excellent rogues! and then I hope all things are ready, as I gave directions?
Four.To a tittle, sir; there shall not be a more critical observer of your worship's pleasure than your humble servant the Chevalier Fourbin.
Sir Jol.Get you gone, you rogue, you have a sharp nose, and are a nimble fellow; I have no more to say to you, stand aside, and be ready when I call: here he comes; hist, hem, hem, hem.
[ExeuntFourbinandBloody-Bones.
Re-enterSirDavy Dunce.
Sir Dav.Ha! what art thou?Approach thou like the rugged Bankside bear,The East-cheap bull, or monster shown in fair,—Take any shape but that, and I'll confront thee!
Sir Dav.Ha! what art thou?Approach thou like the rugged Bankside bear,The East-cheap bull, or monster shown in fair,—Take any shape but that, and I'll confront thee!
Sir Jol.Alas, unhappy man! I am thy friend.Sir Dav.Thou canst not be my friend, for I defy thee. Sir Jolly! neighbour! ha! is it you? are you sure it is you? are you yourself? if you be, give me your hand. Alas-a-day, I ha' seen the devil.Sir Jol.The devil, neighbour?Sir Dav.Ay, ay, there's no help for't; at first I fancied it was a young white bear's cub dancing in the shadow of my candle; then it was turned to a pair of blue breeches with wooden legs on, stamped about the room, as if all the cripples in town had kept their rendezvous there; when all of a sudden, it appeared like a leathern serpent, and with a dreadful clap of thunder flew out of the window.Sir Jol.Thunder! why, I heard no thunder.Sir Dav.That may be too; what, were you asleep?Sir Jol.Asleep, quoth-a? no, no; no sleeping this night for me, I assure you.Sir Dav.Well, what's the best news then? How does the man?Sir Jol.Even as he did before he was born nothing at all; he's dead.Sir Dav.Dead! what, quite dead?Sir Jol.As good as dead, if not quite dead; 'twas a horrid murder! and then the terror of conscience, neighbour.Sir Dav.And truly I have a very terrified one, friend, though I never found I had any conscience at all till now. Pray whereabout was his death's-wound?Sir Jol.Just here, just under his left pap, a dreadful gash.Sir Dav.So very wide?Sir Jol.Oh, as wide as my hat; you might have seen his lungs, liver, and heart, as perfectly as if you had been in his belly.Sir Dav.Is there no way to have him privately buried, and conceal this murder? Must I needs be hanged by the neck like a dog, neighbour? Do I look as if I would be hanged?Sir Jol.Truly, Sir Davy, I must deal faithfully with you, you do look a little suspiciously at present; but have you seen the devil, say you?Sir Dav.Ay, surely it was the devil, nothing else could have frighted me so.Sir Jol.Bless us, and guard us all the angels! what's that?Sir Dav."Potestati sempiternæ cujus benevolentiâ servantur gentes, et cujus misericordiâ"—
Sir Jol.Alas, unhappy man! I am thy friend.
Sir Dav.Thou canst not be my friend, for I defy thee. Sir Jolly! neighbour! ha! is it you? are you sure it is you? are you yourself? if you be, give me your hand. Alas-a-day, I ha' seen the devil.
Sir Jol.The devil, neighbour?
Sir Dav.Ay, ay, there's no help for't; at first I fancied it was a young white bear's cub dancing in the shadow of my candle; then it was turned to a pair of blue breeches with wooden legs on, stamped about the room, as if all the cripples in town had kept their rendezvous there; when all of a sudden, it appeared like a leathern serpent, and with a dreadful clap of thunder flew out of the window.
Sir Jol.Thunder! why, I heard no thunder.
Sir Dav.That may be too; what, were you asleep?
Sir Jol.Asleep, quoth-a? no, no; no sleeping this night for me, I assure you.
Sir Dav.Well, what's the best news then? How does the man?
Sir Jol.Even as he did before he was born nothing at all; he's dead.
Sir Dav.Dead! what, quite dead?
Sir Jol.As good as dead, if not quite dead; 'twas a horrid murder! and then the terror of conscience, neighbour.
Sir Dav.And truly I have a very terrified one, friend, though I never found I had any conscience at all till now. Pray whereabout was his death's-wound?
Sir Jol.Just here, just under his left pap, a dreadful gash.
Sir Dav.So very wide?
Sir Jol.Oh, as wide as my hat; you might have seen his lungs, liver, and heart, as perfectly as if you had been in his belly.
Sir Dav.Is there no way to have him privately buried, and conceal this murder? Must I needs be hanged by the neck like a dog, neighbour? Do I look as if I would be hanged?
Sir Jol.Truly, Sir Davy, I must deal faithfully with you, you do look a little suspiciously at present; but have you seen the devil, say you?
Sir Dav.Ay, surely it was the devil, nothing else could have frighted me so.
Sir Jol.Bless us, and guard us all the angels! what's that?
Sir Dav."Potestati sempiternæ cujus benevolentiâ servantur gentes, et cujus misericordiâ"—
[Kneels, holding up his hands, and muttering as if he prayed.