University of Virginia Library

Actus Quintus.

Scæna Prima.

Enter Merchant solus.
Merch.

I will have no great store of company at the wedding,
a couple of neighbors and their wives, and we will
have a Capon in stewed broth, with marrow, and a good
piece of beef, stuck with Rose-mary.

Enter Jasper and his face mealed.
Jasp.
Forbear thy pains fond man, it is too late.

Merch.
Heaven bless me: Jasper?

Jasp.
I, I am his Ghost
Whom thou hast injur'd for his constant love:
Fond worldly wretch, who dost not understand
In death that true hearts cannot parted be.
First know thy daughter is quite born away,
On wings on Angels: through the liquid Ayre
Too far out of thy reach, and never more
Shalt thou behold her face: But she and I
Will in another world enjoy our loves,
Where neither fathers anger, poverty,
Nor any cross that troubles earthly men
Shall make us fever our united hearts,
And never shalt thou sit, or be alone
In any place, but I will visit thee
With gastly looks, and put into thy mind
The great offences which thou didst to me.
When thou art at thy Table with thy friends,
Merry in heart, and fild with swelling wine,
I'll come in midst of all thy pride and mirth,
Invisible to all men but thy self,
And whisper such a sad tale in thine ear,
Shall make thee let the Cup fall from thy hand,
And stand as mute and pale as Death it self.

Merch.
Forgive me Jasper; Oh! what might I do?
Tell me to satisfie thy troubled Ghost?

Jasp.
There is no means, too late thou thinkst on this.

Mer.
But tell me what were best for me to do?

Jasp.
Repent thy deed, and satisfie my father,
And be at fond Humphrey out of thy doors.
Exit Jasp.

Enter Humphrey.
Wife.
Look George, his very Ghost would have folks beaten.

Hum.
Father, my bride is gone, fair Mistris Luce,
My soul's the font of vengeance, mischiefs fluce.

Mer.
Hence fool out of my sight, with thy fond passion,
Thou hast undone me.

Hum.
Hold my father dear,
For Luce thy daughters sake, that had no peer.

Mer.
Thy father fool? there's some blows more, begon.
Jasper, I hope thy Ghost be well appeased,
To see thy will perform'd, now I'll go
To satisfie thy father for thy wrongs.

Exit.
Hum.
What shall I do? I have been beaten twice.
And Mistris Luce is gone? help me device:
Since my true-love is gone? I never more,
Whilst I do live, upon the Skie will pore;
But in the dark will wear out my shoo-soles
In passion, in Saint Faiths Church under Pauls.

Exit.
Wife.

George call Rafe hither, if you love me call Rafe hither,
I have the bravest thing for him to do George,; prethee
call him quickly

Cit.

Rafe, why Rafe boy.

Enter Rafe.
Rafe.

Here Sir.

Cit.

Come hither Rafe come to thy Mistris Boy.

Wife.

Rafe I would have thee call all the youths together
in battle-ray, with Drums, and Guns, and flags, and march
to Mile-end in pompous fashion, and there exhort your
Souldiers to be merry and wife, and to keep their beards
from burning Rafe, and then skirmish, and let your flags
fly, and cry, kill, kill, kill: my husband shall lend you
his Jerkin Rafe, and there's a Scarfe for the rest, the
house shall furnish you, and we'll pay sor't: do it bravely
Rafe, and think before whom you perform, and what
person you represent.

Rafe.

I warrant you Mistress, if I do it not, for the honor
of the City, and the credit of my Master, let me never
hope for freedome.

Wife.

'Tis well spoken i'faith; go thy waies, thou art
a spark indeed.

Cit.

Ralph, double your files bravely Ralph.

Ralph.

I warrant you Sir,

Exit Ralph.

Cit.

Let him look narrowly to his service, I shall take
him else; I was there my self a Pike-man once, in the hottest
of the day, wench, had my feather shot shaer away,
the fringe of my pike burnt off with powder, my pate broken
with a scouring-stick, and yet I thank God I am here.

Drum within.
Wife.

Hark George, the Drums.

Cit.

Ran, tan, tan, tan, ran tan: Oh wench an thou
hadst but seen little Ned of Aldgate, drum Ned, how he
made it roar again, and laid on like a tyrant: and then
struck softly till the Ward came up, and then thundred again,
and together we go: fa, fa, fa, bounce quoth
the Guns: courage my hearts, quoth the Captains: Saint
George, quoth the pike-men; and withal here they lay,
and there they lay: And yet for all this I am here wench.

Wife.

Be thankful for it George, for indeed 'tis wonderful.

Enter Ralph and his company with Drums and Colours.
Ralph.

March fair my hearts; Lieutenant beat the rear
up: Ancient let your Colours flie; but have a great care of
the Butchers hooks at White-Chappel, they have been the
death of many a fair Ancient. Open your files, that I may
take a view both of your persons and munition: Serjeant
call a Muster.

Serg.

A stand, William Hamerton Pewterer.

Ham.

Here Captain.

Ralph.

Corslet and a Spanish Pike; 'tis well, can you
shake it with a terror?

Hum.

I hope so Captain.

Ralph.

Charge upon me, 'tis with the weakest: put
more strength William Hamerton, more strength: as you
were again; proceed Serjeant.

Serj.

George Green-goose, Poulterer.

Green.

Here.

Ralph.

Let me see your Peece neighbor Green-goose, when
was she shot in?

Green.

And like you master Captain, I made a shot even
now, partly to scour her, and partly for audacity.

Ralph.

It should seem so certainly, for her breath is yet inflamed:
besides, there is a main fault in the touch-hole,
it runs and stinketh; and I tell you moreover, and believe
it. Ten such touch-holes would breed the Pox in the
Army; Get you a Feather, neighbor, get you a Feather,
sweet Oil, and Paper, and your Peece may do well enough
yet. Where's your Powder?

Green.

Here.

Ralph.

What in a Paper? As I am a Soldier and a Gentleman,
it craves a Martial Court: you ought to die for't.
Where's your horn? answer me to that.

Green.

An't like you Sir, I was oblivious.

Ralph.

It likes me not it should be so; 'tis a shame for
you, and a scandal to all our Neighbors, being a man of
worth and estimation, to leave your horn behind you: I
am afraid 'twill breed example. But let me tell you no more
on't; stand, till I view you all. What's become o'th' nose
of your flaske?

1 Sold.

Indeed law Captain, 'twas blown away with powder.

Ralph.

Put on a new one at the Cities Charge. Where's
the stone of this Peece?

2 Sold.

The Drummer took it out to light Tobacco.

Ralph.

'Tis a fault my friend, put it in again: you want a
Nose, and you a Stone; Serjeant, take a note on't, for I
mean to stop it in the pay. Remove and march, soft and
fair Gentlemen; soft and fair: double and files, as you
were, faces about. Now you with the sodden face, keep in
there: look to your Match sirrah, it will be in your fellows
flask anon. So make a Crescent now, advance your Pikes,
stand and give ear, Gentlemen, Countrey-men, Friends, and
my fellow-Soldiers, I have brought you this day from the
Shop of Security, and the Counters of Content, to measure
out in these furious fields, Honor by the ell, and
Prowess by the pound: Let it not, O let it not, I say, be
told hereafter, the noble issue of this City fainted: but
bear your selves in this fair action, like men, valiant men,
and free men: Fear not the face of the enemy: nor the
noise of the Guns: for believe me brethren, the rude rumbling
of a Brewers Carr is more terrible, of which you
have a daily experience: Neither let the stink of Powder
offend you, since a more valiant stink is nightly with you.
To a resolved mind, his home is every where: I speak not
this to take away the hope of your return; for you shall
see (I do not doubt it) and that very shortly, your loving
wives again, and your sweet children, whose care doth bear
you company in baskets. Remember then whose cause you
have in hand, and like a sort of true-born Scavengers, scour
me this famous Realm of enemies. I have no more to say
but this: Stand to your tacklings lads, and shew to the
world, you can as well brandish a sword, as shake an Apron.
Saint George, and on my hearts. Omnes. Saint George,
Saint George.

Exeunt.
Wife.

'Twas well done Ralph, I'll send thee a cold Capon
a field, and a bottle of March-beer; and, it may be, come
my self to see thee.

Cit.

Nel, the boy hath deceiv'd me much, I did not think
it had been in him: he has perform'd such a matter wench,
that if I live, next year I'll have him Captain of the Gallisoist,
or I'll want my Will.

Enter Old Merry-thought.
Old Mer.

Yet I thank God, I break not a rinkle more
than I had, not a stoop boys? Care live with Cats, I defie
thee, my heart is as found as an Oak; and though I want
drink to wet my whistle, I can sing.

Enter a Boy with a Coffin.
Boy.
God save you Sir.

Old Mer.
It's a brave Boy: can'st thou sing?

Boy.
Yes Sir, I can sing, but 'tis not so necessary at this time.

Old Mer.
Sing we, and chaunt it, whilst love doth grant it.

Boy.

Sir, Sir, if you knew what I have brought you, you
would have little list to sing.

Old Mer.
Oh the Mimon round, full long I have thee sought.
And now I have thee sound, and what hast thou here brought?

Boy.
A Coffin, Sir, and your dead Son Jasper in it.

Old Mer.
Dead? why farewell he:
Thou wast a bonny boy, and I did love thee.

Enter Jasper.
Jasp.
Then I pray you Sir, do so still.

Old Mer.

Jasper's Ghost? thou art welcome from Stygian
lake so soon,

Declare to me what wonderous things in Pluto's court are done

Jas.
By my troth sir, I ne'r came there, 'tis too hot for me Sir.

Old Mer.
A merry Ghost, a very merry Ghost.
And where is your true love? Oh where is yours?

Jasp.
Marry look you Sir.

Heaves up the Coffin.
Old Mer.
Ah ha! Art thou good at that i'faith?
With hey trixie terlerie-whiskin, the world it runs on wheels.
When the young mans—up goes the Maidens heels.

Mistriss Merry-thought and Michael within.
Mist. Mer.

What Mr. Merri-thought, will you not let's in?
what do you think shall become of us?

Mist. Mer.

What voice is that that calleth at our door?

Mist. Mer.

You know me well enough, I am sure I have
not been such a stranger to you.

Old Mer.

And some they whistled, and some they sung,
Hey down, down: and some loudly say, ever as the Lord
Barnets horn blew, Away Musgrave away.

Mist. Mer.

You will not have us starve here, will you Master
Merry-thought?

Jasp.

Nay, good Sir be perswaded, she is my Mother:
if her offences have been great against you, let your own
love remember she is yours, and so forgive her.

Luce.

Good master Merry-thought, let me intreat you, I
will not be denied.

Mist. Mer.

Why Master Merry-thought, will you be a vext
thing still?

Old Mer.

Woman I take you to my love again, but you
shall sing before you enter: therefore dispatch your song,
and so come in.

Mist. Mer.

Well, you must have your Will when all's done,
Mich. what song canst thou sing Boy?

Mich.

I can sing none forsooth, but a Ladies Daughter
of Paris properly.

Mich., Mer.
Song.
It was a Ladies Daughter, &c.

Old Mer.
Come, you're welcome home again.
If such danger be in playing, and jest must to earnest turn,
You shall go no more a Maying.

Merch.
within.
Are you within Sir, Master Merry-thought?

Jasp.

It is my Masters voice, good Sir, go hold him talk
whilst we convey our selves into some inward room.

Old Mer.

What are you? are you merry? you must be
very merry if you enter.

Mer.

I am Sir.

Old Mer.

Sing then.

Mer.

Nay, good Sir open to me.

Old Mer.

Sing, I say, or by the merry heart, you come not
in.

Mer.

Well Sir, I'll sing.

Old Mer.

You are welcome Sir, you are welcome: you
see your entertainment, pray you be merry.

Mer.
Oh Master Merry-thought, I am come to aske you
Forgiveness for the wrongs I offered you,
And your most virtuous Son, they're infinite,
Yet my contrition shall be more than they.
I do confess my hardness broke his heart.
For which just heaven hath given me punishment
More than my age can carry, his wandring spirit
Not yet at rest, pursiles me every where,
Crying. I'll haunt thee for thy cruelty.
My Daughter she is gone, I know not how,
Taken invisible, and whether living,
Or in grave, 'tis yet uncertain to me.
Oh Master Merry-thought, these are the Weights,
Will sink-me to my grave, forgive me Sir.

Old Mer.
Why Sir, I do forgive you, and be merry.
And if the wag in's life time, plaid the knave.
Can you forgive him too?

Mer.
With all my heart Sir.

Old Mer.
Speak it again, and heartily.

Mer.
I do Sir.
Now by my soul I do.

Old Mer.
With that came out his Paramour,
She was as white as the Lilly Flower,
Hey troul, trolie lolie.
Enter Luce and Jasper.
With that came out her own dear Knight,
He was as true as ever did fight, &c.

Sir, if you will forgive 'em, clap their hands together,
there's no more to be said i'th' matter.

Mer.

I do, I do.

Cit.

I do not like this, peace boys, hear me one of you,
every bodies part is come to an end but Ralph's, and he's
left out,

Boy.

'Tis long of your self Sir, we have nothing to do
with his part.

Cit.

Ralph. Come away, make on him as you have done
of the rest-boys come.

Wife.

Now good Husband, let him come out and die.

Cit.

He shall Nell, Ralph, come away quickly and die boy.

Boy.

'Twill be very unfit he should die sir, upon no occasion,
and in a Comedy too.

Cit.

Take you no care for that Sir boy, is not his part
at an end, think you, when he's dead? come away Ralph.

Enter Ralph, with a forked arrow through his head.
Ralph.
When I was mortal, this my costive corps
Did lap up Figs and Raisons in the Strand,
Where sitting I espi'd a lovely Dame,
Whose Master wrought with Lingell and with All,
And underground he vampied many a Boot,
Straight did her love prick forth me, tender sprig:
To follow feats of Arms in warlike wise,
Through Waltham Desart; where I did perform
Many atchievements, and did lay on ground
Huge Barbaroso, that insulting Giant,
And all his Captives soon set at liberty.
Then honor prickt me from my native soil,
Into Moldavia, where I gain'd the love
Of Pompiana his beloved Daughter:
But yet prov'd constant to the black thumm'd Maid,
Susan, and scorn'd Pompianaes love:
Yet liberal I was, and gave her pins,
And money for her Fathers Officers,
I then returned home, and thrust my self
In action, and by all means chosen was
The Lord of May,, where I did flourish it,
With Scarfs and Rings, and Poesie in my hand:
After this action I preferred was,
And chosen City-Captain at Mile-end,
With Hat and Feather, and with leading staff,
And train'd my men, and brought them all off clear
Save one man that beraid him with the noise.
But all these things I Ralph did undertake,
Only for my beloved Susans sake.
Then coming home, and sitting in my shop
With Apron blew, Death came unto my stall
To cheapen Aquavitæ; but e'r I
Could take the bottle down, and fill a taste,
Death came and caught a pound of Pepper in his hand,
And sprinkled all my Face and Body o'r,
And in an instant vanished away.

Cit.
'Tis a pretty fiction i'faith.

Ralph.
Then took I up my Bow and Shaft in hand,
And walkt in Moor-fields, to cool my self,
But there grim cruel death met me again,
And shot this forked Arrow through my head,
And now I faint, therefore be warn'd by me,
My fellows every one, of forked heads.
Farewell all you good boys in merry London,
Ne'r shall we more upon Shrove-Tuesday meet,
And pluck down houses of iniquity.
My pain increaseth: I shall never more
Hold open, whilst another pumps both legs,
Nor daub a Sattin Gown with rotten Eggs:
Set up a stake, Oh never more I shall,
I die, flie, flie my soul to Grocers Hall.
Oh, oh, oh, &c.

Wife.

Well said Ralph, do your obeysance to the Gentlemen,
and go your ways well said Ralph.

Exit Ralph.
Old Mer.

Methinks all we, thus kindly and unexpectedly
reconciled, should not part without a Song.

Merch.

A good motion.

Old Mer.

Strike up then.

SONG.
Better Musick ne'r was known,
Than a Quire of hearts in one.
Let each other that hath been,
Troubled with the gall or spleen:
Learn of us to keep his brow,
Smooth and plain as yours are now.
Sing though before the hour of dying
He shall rise, and then be crying,
Hey ho, 'Tis nought but mirth,
That keeps the bodie from the earth.
Exeunt omnes.