 | The Knight of the Burning Pestle |  |
Actus Primus.
Scæna Prima.
Enter Merchant and Jasper his Man.Merch.
Sirrah, I'll make you know you are my Prentice,
And whom my charitable love redeem'd
Even from the fall of fortune, gave thee heat
And growth, to be what now thou art, new cast thee,
Adding the trust of all I have at home,
In forreign Staples, or upon the Sea
To thy direction, ti'de the good opinions
Both of self and friends to thy endeavors,
So fair were thy beginnings: but with these
As I remember you had never charge,
To love your Masters Daughter, and even then,
When I had found a wealthy Husband for her,
I take it, Sir, you had not: but however,
I'll break the neck of that Commission,
And make you know you are but a Merchants Factor.
Jasp.
Sir,
I do liberally confess I am yours,
Bound both by love and duty to your service;
In which my labor hath been all my profit;
I have not lost in bargain, nor delighted
To wear your honest gains upon my back,
Nor have I given a pension to my bloud,
Or lavishly in play consum'd your stock.
These, and the miseries that do attend them,
I dare with innocence, proclaim are strangers
To all my temperate actions: for your Daughter,
If there be any love to my deservings,
Born by her virtuous self, I cannot stop it:
Nor am I able to refrain her wishes.
She's private to her self, and best of knowledge,
Whom she'll make so happy as to sigh for
Besides, I cannot think you mean to match her,
Unto a fellow of so lame a presence,
One that hath little left of Nature in him.
Mer.
'Tis very well, Sir, I can tell your wisdom
How all this shall be cur'd.
Jasp.
Your care becomes you.
Merc.
And thus it shall be, Sir, I here discharge you,
My house, and service, take your liberty,
And when I want a Son I'll send for you.
Exit.
Jasp.
These be the fair rewards of them that love,
Oh you that live in freedom never prove
The travel of a mind led by desire.
Enter Luce.
Luce.
Why how now friend, struck with my Fathers thunder?
Jasp.
Struck, and struck dead, unless the remedy
Be full of speed and virtue; I am now,
What I expected long, no more your father's.
Luce.
But mine.
Jasp.
But yours, and only yours I am,
You dare be constant still?
Luce.
O fear me not.
In this I dare be better than a woman.
Nor shall his anger, nor his offers move me,
Were they both equal to a Princes power.
Jasp.
You know my Rival?
Luce.
Yes, and love him dearly,
Even as love an ague, or foul weather,
I prethee Jasper fear him not.
Jasp.
Oh no,
I do not mean to do him so much kindness,
But to our own desires you know the plot
We both agreed on.
Luce.
Yes, and will perform
My part exactly.
Jasp.
I desire no more,
Farewel, and keep my heart, 'tis yours.
Luce.
I take it,
He must do miracles,
Makes me forsake it.
Exeunt.
Cit.
Fie upon 'em little infidels,
What a matter's here now?
Well, I'll be hang'd for a half-penny,
If there be not some abomination knavery in this Play,
Well, let 'em look to't,
Ralph must come,
And if there be any tricks a brewing—
Wife.
Let 'em brew and bake too Husband, a gods name,
Ralph will find all out I warrant you,
And they were older than they are.
I pray my pretty youth, is Ralph ready?
Boy.
He will be presently.
Wife.
Now I pray you make my commendations unto him,
And withal, carry him this stick of Licoras,
Tell him his Mistriss sent it him,
And bid him bite apiece,
'Twill open his pipes the better, say.
Enter Merchant, and Master Humphrey.
Mer.
Come, Sir, she's yours, upon my faith she's yours,
You have my hand, for other idle letts
Between your hopes and her, thus, with a wind,
They are scattered, and no more: my wanton Prentice,
That like a bladder blew himself with love,
I have lett out, and sent him to discover
New masters yet unknown.
Humph.
I thank you Sir,
Indeed I thank you, Sir, and e'r I stir,
It shall be known however you do deem,
I am of gentle blood and gentle seem.
Mer.
Oh Sir, I know it certain.
Hum.
Sir, my friend,
Although as Writers say, all things have end,
And that we call a Pudding, hath his two,
Oh let it not seem strange I pray to you,
If in this bloudy simile, I put
My love, more endless, than frail things or gut.
Wife.
Husband,
I prethee sweet lamb tell me one thing,
But tell me truly:
Stay youths I beseech you,
Till I question my Husband.
Cit.
What is it Mouse?
Wife.
Sirrah,
Didst thou ever see a prettier child?
How it behaves it self, I warrant ye:
And speaks and looks, and pearts up the head?
I pray you brother with your favour;
Were you never none of Mr. Moncasters Scholars?
Cit.
Chickin,
I prethee heartily contain thy self,
The childer are pretty childer,
But when Ralph comes, Lamb.
Wife.
I when Ralph comes, Conie,
Well my youth you may proceed
Mar.
Well Sir, you know my love, and rest, I hope
Assur'd of my consent; get but my daughters,
And wed her when you please: you must be bold,
And clap in close unto her, come, I know
You have language good enough to win a wench.
Wife.
A whoresone tyrant,
Hath been an old stringer in his days,
I warrant him.
Hum.
I take your gentle offer, and withal
Yield love again for love reciprocal.
Enter Luce.
Mar.
What Luce, within there?
Luce.
Call'd you Sir?
Mer.
I did
Give entertainment to this Gentleman,
And see you be not froward to her, Sir:
Exit.
My presence will but be an eye-soar to you.
Hum.
Fair Mistriss Luce, how do you, are you well?
Give me your hand, and then I pray you tell,
How doth your little Sister, and your Brother?
And whether you love me or any other.
Luce.
Sir, these are quickly answer'd.
Hum.
So they are,
Where Women are not cruel: but how far
Is it now distant from the place we are in,
Unto that blessed place your Fathers Warren.
Luce.
What makes you think of that, Sir?
Hum.
Even that face,
For stealing Rabbets whilome in that place,
God Cupid, or the Keeper, I know not whether,
Unto my cost and charges brought you thither,
And there began.
Luec.
Your game, Sir.
Hum.
Let no game,
Or any thing that tendeth to the same,
Be evermore remembred, thou fair killer
For whom I sate me down and brake my Tiller.
Wife.
There's a kind Gentleman, I warrant you, when
will you do as much for me George?
Luce.
Beshrew me Sir, I am sorry for your losses,
But as the proverb says, I cannot cry,
I would you had not seen me.
Hum.
So would I.
Unless you had more maw to do me good.
Luce.
Why, cannot this strange passion be withstood,
Send for a Constable and raise the Town.
Hum.
Oh no, my valiant love will batter down
Millions of Constables, and put to flight,
Even that great Watch of Midsummer day at night.
Luce.
Beshrew me, Sir, 'twere good I yielded then,
Weak Women cannot hope, where valiant men
Have no resistance.
Hum.
Yield then, I am full
Of pity, though I say it, and can pull
Out of my pocket thus a pair of Gloves.
Look Lucy, look, the dogs tooth, nor the Doves
Are not so white as these; and sweet they be,
And whipt about with silk, as you may see:
If you desire the price, sute from your eye,
A beam to this place, and you shall espie
F. S. which is to say my sweetest Honey,
They cost me three and two pence, or no money.
Well Sir, I take them kindly, and I thank you;
What would you more?
Hum.
Nothing.
Lu.
Why then farewel.
Hum.
Nor so, nor so, for Lady I must tell,
Before we part, for what we met together,
God grant me time, and patience, and fair weather.
Luce.
Speak and declare your mind in terms so brief.
Hum.
I shall; then first and foremost for relief
I call to you, if that you can afford it,
I care not at what price, for on my word, it
Shall be repaid again, although it cost me
More than I'll speak of now, for love hath tost me
In furious blanket like a Tennis-ball,
And now I rise aloft, and now I fall.
Luce.
Alas good Gentleman, alas the day.
Hum.
I thank you heartily, and as I say,
Thus do I still continue without rest,
I'th' morning like a man, at night a beast,
Roaring and bellowing mine own disquiet,
That much I fear, forsaking of my diet,
Will bring me presently to that quandary,
I shall bid all adieu.
Lu.
Now by S. Mary
That were great pity.
Hum.
So it were beshrew me,
Then ease me lusty Luce, and pity shew me.
Luce.
Why Sir, you know my will is nothing worth
Without my Fathers grant, get his consent,
And then you may with assurance try me.
Hum.
The Worshipful your Sire will not deny me,
For I have ask'd him, and he hath reply'd,
Sweet Master Humphrey, Luce shall be thy Bride.
Luce.
Sweet Master Humphrey then I am content.
Hum.
And so am I in truth.
Lu.
Yet take me with you,
There is another clause must be annext,
And this it is I swore, and will perform it,
No man shall ever joy me as his wife,
But he that stole me hence: if you dare venture,
I am yours; you need not fear, my father loves you:
If not, farewel for ever.
Hum.
Stay Nymph, stay,
I have a double Gelding coloured bay,
Sprung by his Father from Barbarian kind,
Another for my self, though somewhat blind,
Yet true as trusty tree.
Luce.
I am satisfied,
And so I give my hand, our course must lie
Through Waltham Forrest, where I have a friend
Will entertain us, so farewel Sir Humphrey.
Exit Luce.
And think upon your business.
Hum.
Though I die,
I am resolv'd to venture life and lim,
For one so young, so fair, so kind, so trim,
Exit Hum.
Wife.
By my faith and troth George, and as I am virtuous,
it is e'n the kindest young man that ever trode on shooe-leather:
well, go thy waies, if thou hast her not, 'tis not
thy fault 'ifaith.
Cit.
I prethee Mouse be patient, a shall have her, or I'll
make some of 'em smoak sor't.
Wife.
Thats my good lamb George, fie, this stinking Tobacco
kills men, would there were none in England: now I
pray Gentlemen, what good does this stinking Tobacco?
do you nothing; I warrant you make chimneys a your faces:
Oh Husband, Husband, now, now there's Ralph, there's
Ralph.
Enter Ralph, like a Grocer in's shop, with two Prentices, reading Palmerin of England.
Cit.
Peace fool, let Ralph alone, hark you Ralph; do not
strain your self too much at the first, peace, begin Ralph.
Ralph.
Then Palmerin and Trineus snatching their Lances
from their Dwarfs, and clasping their Helmets, gallopt
amain after the Giant, and Palmerin having gotten a sight
of him, came posting amain, saying, Stay traiterous thief,
for thou maist not so carry away her, that is worth the
greatest Lord in the World, and with these words gave
him a blow on the Shoulder, that he struck him besides
his Elephant; and Trineus coming to the Knight that had
Agricola behind him, set him soon besides his horse, with
his neck broken in the fall, so that the Princess getting
out of the throng, between joy and grief said; All happy
Knight, the mirror of all such as follow Arms, now may I
be well assured of the love thou bearest me, I wonder why
the Kings do not raise an Army of fourteen or fifteen
hundred thousand men, as big as the Army that the Prince
of Portigo brought against Rosicler, and destroy these Giants,
they do much hurt to wandring Damsels, that go
in quest of their Knights.
Wife,
Faith Husband, and Ralph says true, for they say
the King of Portugal cannot sit at his meat, but the Giants
and the Ettins will come and snatch it from him.
Cit.
Hold thy tongue; on Ralph.
Ralph,
And certainly those Knights are much to be
commended, who neglecting their possessions, wander with
a Squire and a Dwarfe through the Desarts, to relieve
poor Ladies.
Wife.
I by my faith are they Ralph, let 'em say what
they will, they are indeed: our Knights neglect their possessions
well enough, but they do not the rest.
Ralph.
There are no such courteous, and fair well-spoken
Knights in this age, they will call one the Son of a
whore, that Palmerin of England, would have called fair
Sir; and one that Rosicler would have called Right beautiful
Damsel, they will call Damn'd bitch.
Wife.
I'll be sworn will they Ralph, they have called me
so an hundred times about a scurvy pipe of Tobacco.
Ralph.
But what brave spirit could be content to sit in
his shop with a flapet of Wood, and a blew Apron before him
selling Methridatam and Dragons water to visited houses,
that might pursue seats of Arms, and through his noble
atchievements, procure such a famous History to be written
of, in his Heroick prowesse.
Cit.
Well said Ralph, some more of those words Ralph.
Wife.
They go finely by my troth.
Ralph.
Why should I not then pursue this course, both
for the credit of my self and our company, for amongst
all the worthy Books of Atchievements, I do not call to
mind, that I yet read of a Grocer Errant, I will be the said
Knight: Have you heard of any that hath wandred unfurnished
of his Squire and Dwarfe? my elder Prentice
Tom shall be my trusty Squire, and little George my Dwarfe,
hence my blew Apron, yet in remembrance of my former
Trade, upon my shield shall be pourtraid a Burning Pestle,
and I will be call'd the Knight of the burning Pestle.
Wife.
Nay, I dare swear thou wilt not forget thy old
Trade, thou wert ever meek.
Ralph.
Tim,
Tim.
Anon.
Ralph.
My beloved Squire, and George my Dwarfe, I
charge you that from henceforth you never call me by any
other name, but the Right courteous and valiant Knight of the
Burning Pestle, and that you never call any Female by the
name of a Woman or Wench, but fair Lady, if she have
her desires; if not, distressed Damsel; that you call all Forrests
and Heaths, Desarts, and all Horses Palfries.
Wife.
This is very fine: faith do the Gentlemen like
Ralph, think you Husband?
Cit.
I, I warrant thee, the Players would give all the
shooes in their shop for him.
Ralph.
My beloved Squire Tim, stand out, admit this
were a Desart, and over it a Knight Errant pricking, and
I should bid you enquire of his intents, what would you
say?
Tim.
Sir, my Master sent me to know whither you are
riding?
No, thus; fair Sir, the Right courteous, and valiant
Knight of the Burning Pestle, commanded me to enquire
upon what adventure you are bound, whether to relieve
some distressed Damsel, or otherwise.
Cit.
Whorson blockhead cannot remember.
Wife.
I'faith, and Ralph told him on't before: all the
Gentlemen heard him, did he not Gentlemen, did not
Ralph tell him on't?
George.
Right courteous and valiant Knight of the Burning
Pestle, here is a distressed Damsel, to have a halfepenny
worth of Pepper.
Wife.
That's a good boy, see, the little boy can hit it,
by my troth it's a fine child.
Ralph.
Relieve her with all courteous language, now
shut up shop, no more my Prentice, but my trusty Squire
and Dwarfe, I must bespeak my Shield, and arming
Pestle.
Cit.
Go thy ways Ralph, as I am a true man, thou art
the best on 'em all.
Wife.
Ralph, Ralph.
Ralph.
What say you Mistriss?
Wife.
I prethee come again quickly, sweet Ralph.
Ralph.
By and by.
Enter Jasper and his Mother Mistriss Merry-thought.
Mist. Mer.
Give thee my blessing? no, I'll never give
thee my blessing, I'll see thee hang'd first; it shall ne'r
be said I gave thee my blessing: thou art thy Fathers own
Son, of the bloud of the Merry-thoughts; I may curse the
time that e'r I knew thy Father, he hath spent all his own,
and mine too, and when I tell him of it, he laughs and
dances, and sings and cries; A merry heart lives long-a. And
thou art a wast-thrift, and art run away from thy Master,
that lov'd thee well, and art come to me, and I have laid
up a little for my younger Son Michael, and thou thinkst to
bezle that, but thou shalt never be able to do it, Come
hither Michael, come Michael, down on thy knees, thou
shalt have my blessing.
Enter Michael.
Mich.
I pray you Mother pray to God to bless me.
Mist. Mer.
God bless thee: but Jasper shall never have
my blessing, he shall be hang'd first, shall he not Michael?
how saist thou?
Mich.
Yes forsooth Mother and grace of God.
Mist. Mer.
That's a good boy.
Wife.
I'faith it's a fine spoken child:
Jasp.
Mother, though you forget a Parents love,
I must preserve the duty of a child:
I ran not from my Master, nor return
To have your stock maintain my idleness.
Wife.
Ungracious child I warrant him, harke how he
chops Logick with his Mother: thou hadst best tell her
she lies, do, tell her she lies.
Cit.
If he were my son, I would hang him up by the
heels, and flea him, and salt him, whorson halter-sack.
Jasp.
My coming only is to beg your love,
Which I ever though I never gain it,
And howsoever you esteem of me,
There is no drop of bloud hid in these veins,
But I remember well belongs to you,
That brought me forth; and would be glad for you
To rip them all again, and let it out.
Mist. Mer.
I'faith I had sorrow enough for thee: (God
knows) but I'll hamper thee well enough: get thee in thou
ragabond, get thee in, and learn of thy brother Michael.
Old Mer.
within.
Nose, Nose, jolly red Nose, and who gave
thee this jolly red Nose?
Mist. Mer.
Hark my Husband he's singing and hoiting,
And I'm fain to cark and care, and all little enough.
Husband, Charles, Charles Merry-thought.
Enter Old Merry-thought.
Old Mer.
Nutmegs and Ginger, Cinamon and Cloves,
And they gave me this jolly red Nose.
Mist. Mer.
If you would consider your estate, you would
have little list to sing, I-wisse.
Old Mer.
It should never be consider'd, while it were an
estate, if I thought it would spoil my singing.
Mist. Mer.
But how wilt thou do Charles, thou art an old
man, and thou canst not work, and thou hast not forty shillings
left, and thou eatest good meat, and drinkest good
drink, and laughest?
Old Mer.
And will doe.
Mist. Mer.
But how wilt thou come by it Charles?
Old Mer.
How? why how have I done hitherto these
forty years? I never came into my Dining-room, but at eleven
and six a clock, I found excellent meat and drink a'th'
Table: my Cloaths were never worn out, but next morning
a Tailor brought me a new suit; and without question
it will be so ever! use makes perfectness, If all should fail,
it is but a little straining my self extraordinary, and laugh
my self to death.
Wife.
It's a foolish old man this: is not he George?
Cit.
Yes Cunny.
Wife.
Give me a penny i'th' purse while I live George.
Cit.
I by Lady Cunnie, hold thee there.
Mist. Mer.
Well Charles, you promis'd to provide for
Jasper, and I have laid up for Michael: I pray you pay Jasper
his portion, he's come home, and he shall not consume
Michaels stock: he saies his Master turn'd him away, but
I promise you truly, I think he ran away.
Wife.
No indeed Mistriss Merry-thought, though he be a
notable gallows, yet I'll assure you his Master did turn him
away, even in this place, 'twas i'faith within this half hour,
about his Daughter, my Husband was by.
Cit.
Hang him rogue, he serv'd him well enough: love
his Masters Daughter! by my troth Cunnie, if there were
a thousand boys, thou wouldst spoil them all, with taking
their parts; let his Mother alone with him.
Wife.
I George, but yet truth is truth.
Old. Mer.
Where is Jasper? he's welcome however, call
him in, he shall have his portion, is he merry?
Enter Jasper and Michael.
Mist. Mer.
I foul chive him, he is too merry. Jasper
Michael.
Old Mer.
Welcome Jasper, though thou run'st away,
welcome, God bless thee, 'tis thy mothers mind thou shouldst
receive thy portion: thou hast been abroad, and I hope hast
learnt experience enough to govern it: thou art of sufficient
years, hold thy hand: one, two, three, four, five, six,
seven, eight, nine, there is ten shillings for thee, thrust thy
self into the world with that, and take some setled course,
if fortune cross thee, thou hast a retiring place; come
home to me, I have twenty shillings left, be a good Husband,
that is, wear ordinary Cloaths, eat the best meat, and
drink the best drink; be merry, and give to the poor, and
and believe me, thou hast no end of thy goods.
Jasp.
Long may you live free from all thought of ill,
And long have cause to be thus merry still.
But Father?
Old Mer.
No more words Jasper, get thee gone, thou
hast my blessing, thy Fathers spirit upon thee. Farewel
Jasper; but yet, or e'r you part (oh cruel) kiss me, kiss
me sweeting, mine own dear jewel: So, now begone; no
words.
Enter Jasper,
Mist. Mer.
So Michael, now get thee gone too.
Mich.
Yes forsooth Mother, but I'll have my Father's
blessing first.
Mist. Mer.
No Michael, 'tis no matter for his blessing;
thou hast my blessing, begone; I'll fetch my money and
jewels, and follow thee: I'll stay no longer with him I warrant
thee; truly Charles I'll begon too.
Old Mer.
What you will not?
What you will not?
Mist. Mer.
Yes indeed will I.
Old Mer.
Hay ho, farewel Nan, I'll never trust wench
more again, if I can.
Mist. Mer.
You shall not think (when all your own is gone)
to spend that I have been scraping up for Michael.
Old Mer.
Farewel good wife, I expect it not; all I have
to do in this world, is to be merry: which I shall, if the
ground be not taken from me: and if it be,
The Skies aloft for me are left.
Exeunt.
Boy danceth, Musick.
I'll be sworn he's a merry old Gentleman for all
that: Hark, hark Husband, hark, Fiddles, Fiddles; now
surely they go finely. They say 'tis present death for these
Fidlers to tune their Rebecks before the great Turks grace,
is't not George? But look, look, here's a youth dances:
now good youth do a turn o'th' toe; Sweet: heart, I'faith
I'll have Ralph come, and do some of his Gambols; he'll
ride the Wild Mare Gentlemen, 'twould do your hearts
good to see him: I thank you kind youth, pray bid Ralph
come.
Cit.
Peace Connie. Sirrah, you scurvy boy, bid the Players
send Ralph, or by gods—and they do not, I'll tear
some of their Periwigs beside their heads: this is all Riff-Raff.
| The Knight of the Burning Pestle | |