University of Virginia Library

Actus Quintus

Scena prima.

The Watch.
1 Watch.
It is a cold night neighbour,
And tis likely we shall have frost,
That will make Sea-coales deare: heaven helpe poore people.
Is no newes stirring neighbour?

Men., 2 Wat.
Yes, to day
I heard such newes, heaven blesse us, as would make
A mans heart quake in's belly; strange, and true,
It came up in a Carret Boat from Sandwich
Last tide; an Oister wife, a good old Woman,
Heard it at Billingsgate, and told my wife on it,

3 Watch.
What is it? pray lets heare it.

Men., 2 Wat.
Marry, that twixt Deale
And Dover, one fishing for Flounders, drew
A Spaniards body up, slaine ith' late sea-fight,
And searching him for monie, found ith' sets
Of his great Ruffe the—I shall think on't presently,
Tis a hard word—the Inquisition.

1 Wat.
O monstrous, what's that?
I have not heard of such a Beast before.

Men., 3 Wat.
You've heard nothing then:
It is a Monster very like the Man-drake
Was shewen at Temple Barre.

2 Wat.
You have heard nothing neither:
The Monster's no such Monster: neighbor Mandivell
You are a zealous brother, a Translator,
Tis such a Monster as will swallow thee,
And all the Brethren at Amsterdam,
And in new England at a morsell: verilies,
Your yeas, and nayes will not appease its stomacke,
Twill sup them up as easily as a Tayler
Would doe fixe hot loaves in a morning fasting,
And yet dine after.

Enter Busie and Parson.
Bus.
There is the Licence sir for Mr. Holdfast,
And wise Sir Timothy; you have instructions
How things ought to be carryed: when I have
Dispos'd my Watch, I will be there my selfe;
Meane time good Sir be carefull.

Pars.
Doubt me not,
Good Mr. Constable; tis not the first time
I have espoused couples of as much worship,
Behinde the Brickhills: when tis done, tis done,
And surely consummate.
Ex. Parson.

Bus.
Well said neighbours,
Y'are chatting wisely o're your Bils and Lanthorns,
As becomes Watch-men of discretion: pray you
Let's have no wit amongst you; no discourse
O'the Common-wealth; I need not neighbours give you
Your charge to night: onely for fashion sake.
Draw neare and be attentive.

3 Men.
I have edified
More by your charge I promise you, than by
Many a mornings exercise.

Bus.
First, then,
You shall be sure to keep the peace; that is,
If any quarrell, be ith' streets, sit still, and keepe
Your rusty Bills from blood-shed; and as't began
So let it end: onely your zeales may wish
The Devill part them.

1 Wat.
Forward Mr. Constable.

Bus.
Next, if a thiefe chance to passe through your watch,
Let him depart in peace; for should you stay him,
To purchase his redemption he'le impart
Some of his stolne goods, and you're apt to take them,
Which makes you accessary to his theft,
And so fit food for Tiburne.

Men.
Good advise,
I promise you, if we have grace to follow it.

Bus.
Next if a drunkard or a man disguisd,
Desire to passe the gate, by all means open't,
You'l run your selves into th'premunire,
For your authority stretches but to men,
And they are beasts by statute.

1 Wat.
Such as we are,
Horn'd beasts be means.

Bus.
How's that; you carry lanthornes,
Thou hast wit, and Ile reward't, there's foure tokens
To buy the cheese: next for the female creatures,
Which the severer officers ith' suburbs
Terme girles, or wenches, let them passe without
Examining where they been: or taking from them
A single token: lasse good soules, they get
Their mony hard, with labours of their bodies,
And to exact on those were even extortion
Beyond a brokers.

Men.
Yet they doe't
Without the City, I have heard a brewer,
Being one yeare in office, got as much from those
Good soules as bought him a new mash-fat,
And mended all his coolers.

Bus.
How's that? we are bidden
Not to take ill examples, for your selves you have
Free leave for th'good oth' common wealth to
Sleepe after eleven: meane time you may play at
Tray trip, or cockall for blacke puddings,
So now your charge is finish'd.

Enter Sir Timothy, Grimes, Holdfast, with a Sedan.
1 Wat.
Stand, who goes there?

Men.
Come before Mr. Constable.

Hold.
Tis I Landlord,
There's sixteenpence to buy thy watch some Ale,
Prithee tie up their tongues.

Tim.
And there's foure groates:
To purchase tosts to it.

Bus.
How's that, pray stay my masters,
You'r sober men and fit to be examin'd:
Whither goes all this carriage? close conveiance,
These are the cunningst wodden bawdy houses,
Were ere invented, and these blew coate men mules,
The most authenticke pimps: set downe and open
Your chaire of sinne you varlets.

Hold.
Why good Landlord,
You will spoyle all, doe you not know your tenent,
Not Ieremy Holdfast?

Bus.
How's that? not my father
Upon a watch, Ile lay my life they've stolne
Some city orphane, they'r so loath to have
Their load discover'd.

Hold.
There's ten shillings Landlord
To buy thee sack: although it be thy office,
And thou art sworne to't, for a friend tis lawfull
To breake an oath: I will forsweare my selfe
A hundred times to doe thee good.

Exeunt Holdfast, Timothy, Grimes, and Sedan.
Bus.
I am
Appeas'd, march on: looke you remember my
Instructions: so this money was well gotten,
And 'tshall as merrily be spent, you need no
More, club your halfe pence sparkes to purchase Ale,
You've an exchequer: ha! another chariot,
Int.
This same should be some Lady from a labor,
Her waiters smell of groning cheese: good night
Gentlemen, pay the Porter, what ist twelve pence?
Share it amongst you.

Men.
Mr. Constable
Tis very late, a fire and a browne tost now,
With some of mother Trundles Ale, I promise you
Would comfort much the inwards.

Bus.
How's that hang it,
It is hereticall: Sack's the Orthodoxall
Liquor: and now I thinke ont, you two, and Mendwell
Shall with me to th'Saint Johns head: there is
A cup of pure Canary, and weel have it,
Twill breake your heads, your owne bills,
And weare your Lanthornes in your noses bullies:
My masters, you that stay behinde observe
My charge with strictnesse, and if any businesse
Be of importance, call me.

Exit cum Cæteris
1 Wat.
Now my masters,
Shall I expound a motion to you, shall wee
Share, and share like this mony?

4 Wat.
With all our hearts Omnes.

1 Wat.
Lets see what comes it to a peece: there's eleven groats,
And we are five of us, that is—that is, let me see, seven pence a piece.
No, no, I lye, tis eight pence, and six pence over.

4 Wat.
Right, right, this it is to be booke-learn'd,
He's a good Arimetician: but stay neighbours,
Here comes more company: come before the Constable.

Enter Covet, Sir Geffery, Formall with a Linke.
Cov.
This is the government the city keepes,
How doe you lik't Sir Geffery?

Geff.
Very well,
I doe not thinke all Christendome affoords
The like for formall discipline.

1 Wat.
Leave your prating,
And come before the Constable, though he be not
Here himselfe, theres those that can examine you?

Cov.
You doe well masters to keepe diligent watch.
Theres many varlets at these houres commit
Disorders in the City; Wheres the constable?

1 Wat.
Good master Alderman, I cry your worship mercy,
Because your worship wanted your worshipfull horse.
We did not know you: Mr. Constable
And please your worship is but at next doore
Drinking a pint of sacke.

Cov.
How at a Taverne?

1 Wat.
At the Saint Johns head,
And please your worship, where if your worship please,
You may have excellent sacke, and please your worship.

Cov.
This is the fowlst enormity I ever
Heard on ith' city, that a Constable,
Who ought to see good orders kept, should be
At these unlawfull houres, breeding disorder,
And in an open Taverne. Good Sir Geffery
Beare me but company, Ile make the knave
A faire example to all men in office, how they
Come nere a bush: watchmen looke well
To the charge committed to you: for your Constable,
Ile make him kisse the counter, light on Formall.

Exit Covet, cum cæteris.
1 Wat.
A shrewd man this, if ere he live to be
Lord Major, ha mercy upon us; neighbours surely
Tis very late, and I was up till twelve
Last night a mending my wives bodies, shall we
Each to his bulke and take a nod?

Omnes.
Agreed, agreed.

Exe. Watch.
Busie, Mendwell, watchmen as in a Taverne.
Bus.
Set downe your trusty Bills my sparkes, and let us
Watch ore a cup of Sacke, here tis will make you
Each one an Alderman: a bigger glasse boy,
I doe not love these thimbles, they are fit
For none but precise Taylors, that doe sip,
In zeale, and sweare cuds nigs over their wine,
To cheat their customers: so this is something.
A score or two of these my sparkes, will set
Our braines a floate, and then weel talke as wisely,
As all the common Counsell, how's that now?

Men.
Mr. Constable
Y'are in the right I promise you: I feele
My selfe already growing from a watchman
Into a head-borow.

Bus.
How's that? thou shalt be
A Constable within this halfe houre Mendwell,
Carry thy staffe with the red Crosse and Dagger
In as much state, as the best gold smith,
That ere bore office in Cheap-side; here's to thee,
Hang care and Cosenage; let mercers use it
In the darke shops: I am a Linnen Draper,
Love wit and Sacke, and am resolv'd to thrive by't,
When they shall break like bottles: Here lets canvas
This quart, and then will bumbaste off another,
And drinke a health to Holland, and the mad boyes
That traile the puissant Pike there: how's that; doe you peepe?

Enter Fidlers Boy.
Boy.
Please you hear a good song Gentlemen?

Bus.
These squeakers, doe claime more
Priviledge in a Taverne,
Then a man in office; into every roome
They thrust their frisled heads; and Ide bin at it
With some distressed Damsell, that I had taken
Late in my watch, thus Ide bin serv'd: ile have
An Edict made against them at Guild Hall,
Next sitting certainely.

Boy.
A very new song and please your worships gentlemen.

Bus.
There you lye boy;
I doubt it is some lamentable stuffe,
Oth' Swine-fac'd gentlewoman, and that youle grunt out
Worse than a parish Boare when he makes love
Unto the Vicars sow; her story's stale boy,
'T has beene already in two playes.

Boy.
An't please your worships,
My song is of a Constable.

Bus.
How's that? a Constable,
Tis not my selfe: I hope ime not exalted
Into a ballad: Dare you sirrah abuse
Officers in your Madrigalls; you deserve,
And so does he that made it, to be whipt for't.

Boy.
Pray heare it sir: tis no such matter on my credit.

Bus.
Ent. Musicians.
Constables 2 Song.

Men.
An excellent Ditty I promise you.

Busie.
Well done boy.
There's twelve pence for you Knaves, and tell the Poet
That made it, if heele come to me, ile give him
A quart of Sacke to whet his Muse.

Ent. Drawer.
Draw.
Sir, below there's one enquires for you, and I suppose him
To be at least an Alderman.

Bus.
And if he be
The Major and his horse, let them come up.
Flinch Squeakers into another roome: Good Mr. Alderman
Tis strange you are abroad so late, wil't please you
Ent. Cov. Sir Geff. Formall.
To taste a cup a Sack, twill warme your stomacke
After your walking.

Cov.
No Sirrah, ile not be
Partaker of your riot: this the watch
You keep good Mr. Constable? introth
The City's much beholding to your care,
And they shall understand it, in a Taverne
A fit place for an Officer: but ile send you
To one fitter for you to the Counter.
Lay hands I charge you, beare him hence,
Ile have you all laid fast else.

Bus.
How's that? I hope youle let us
Drinke off our sacke first: twere farre better sir,
In my poore judgment, that you sate down in peace,
As does befit your gravity, and drinke
A friendly cup or two: then for the first
Offence to send your neighbour to the Counter:
Pray sir be not so fierce; a glasse, or two
Will mollifie your hard heart.

Cov.
Will you not stirre knaves?
Where is the Master of the house? ile make
This Busie an example.

Bus.
Pray doe not sir:
Perhaps y'are bashfull sir, and will not drinke,
Cause you want coyne to pay: ile lend you some;
Or if you scorne to borrow, you may dip
Your chaine; a good pawne never shames the master.
Pray sit downe sir; we just now had Musicke,
Ile call them in agen.

Cov.
Within, the master of the house, ile have
These knaves indicted for this bold contempt,
And whipt about the City.

Bus.
You may see sir,
My Watch-men know their duty, they'll obey
None but the Constable, and ile experience,
If they'le know me for one: My masters, take
This Alderman and his company I charge you,
And carry them straight to th'Counter, ile secure you
'Gainst all the harme that followes.

Seise on the Alderman and Sir Geffery.
Men.
Come, come, come along sir.

Cov.
Dare you doe this sirrah?

Bus.
Yes, and answer't too sir.
Y'ave met a Constable that has the wit,
To know the power of's office: neighbour Mendwel,
Because they'le take him for a Rat ith' Counter,
And Ide be loath to have his reverend beard
Be twitch'd off for his Garnish, to my house
Convey him, and that comely Knight, and bid
My maid shew them a Chamber; ile deale kindlier
With you, then you'd have done with me: there watch them
Till I come home: how's that now?

Cov.
Sirrah, sirrah, ile make you smoak for this.

Mend.
Come, we lose time sir.

Bus.
Let him have
A good fire pray you. So, all works as't had bin
Molded afore in waxe: boy there's your reckoning.
Now to my sparkes, Ive done that will be talkt on ith' City,
And registred, a Constable was witty.

Freewit, Thorowgood, Valentine, Luce, Clare.
Clar.
You thinke you have us sure now. This same Busie
Is a meere cheating Rascall.

Thor.
Come, your rage
Is uselesse now: he has done better for you,
Than I by th'circumstance perceive you had
Intended for your selves: what would you've done
With two such March-pane husbands? I believe,
For all you set a good face on the matter,
Twas your owne plot.

Clar.
Ours? then may we dye Virgins,
And these same trusty youths, now cald our husbands,
Be suddainly transform'd to Eunuchs; we
Had thought young Holdfast, and Sir Timothy
Had bin the Squires had usher'd us, and them
We had resolv'd to couple with.

Free.
Sweete Clare
No more of this; for all your queint dissembling.
I know you love us, better than to part
For a slight quarrell; now we're man and wife,
And we will love you, if you'll be obedient,
And get such Boyes upon you, as shall people
Cheap side with wit five generations after us.

Val.
Feare not thy fathers frownes: sweet Grace I have
An Aldermans heire a joyncture.

Enter Busie.
Bus.
Blesse you my hearts of gold, and give you joy.
Frowne not good Mistris Clare, I knew your minde
And so fulfild it.

Free.
Constable, ile have
Thy Annalls writ, in a farre larger volume,
Than Speed or Hollingshed.

Clar.
Well Mr. Busie,
Y'ave serv'd us sweetly.

Bus.
How's that? I hope your husbands
Anon will serve you sweetlier: faith I thought
There was no wit in't, that you two should cast
Your selves away on two such gulls, your portions.
Deserv'd more noble husbands: therefore finely
After you were gone downe, to take your Chariot,
Instead of them, when ith' meane while my daughters
Held in discourse, I sent these, now your husbands,
To exercise their office: Now you are marryed,
I shall have Gloves I hope?

Clar.
Yes, and such favours
As thou shalt weare in triumph: but what have you
Done with our other sweet-hearts?

Bus.
How's that? matcht them
To two will hold them play: Come will you travaile?
Your father Mistris Grace is at my house,
Thither you shall, and if he will be angry,
Let him be pleas'd agen: Advance my sparkes,
Ile be your valiant Leader.

Exeunt.
Sir Geffery, Covet, Formall, Watchmen.
Geff.
Storme not so Mr. Alderman, the man
Has done no more beleev't, than what his office
Will beare him out in.

Cov.
Ile spend a thousand
Pound, but Ile be reveng'd: a sawcy rascall
In my owne Ward to serve me thus?

Enter Timothy, Holdfast, Grimes, Luce, Nell.
Hold.
Nay, come forward Ladyes,
Although your father sweet-heart, be in our search,
Be not abash'd; come forward, though you kept
Your tongues in peace, ere since our going forth,
And nere spake word, unlesse before the Parson
When we committed Matrimony, yet now
Pull off your Maskes and Vailes, and shew your faces,
Be not asham'd of them.

Cov.
Who's here? Sir Timothy and your sonne, Ile lay
My life on't they have struck a marriage up
Without our knowledge.

Geff.
Very likely Jeremy.

Hold.
No more words sir, tis done, I and sir Timothy
Have hit the white: Good father Covet be not
In angry mood now I have wed your daughter,
And he your Neece, weele use them kindly: pray you
Bid give us joy; your daughter is so fearefull,
She dares not aske you blessing.

Cov.
This qualifies all anger, I forgive them.

Luce.
Forgive us sir? you doe not heare us aske it,
Nor need we your remission.

Cov.
Ha! who are these! Sir Geffery we are cheated
Abhominably, cheated by this Constable,
This rascall Busie, these are his daughters.

Luce.
Nor are we asham'd
To owne him for our father, that has provided
Us two such wealthy husbands.

Hold.
Nell, I did not thinke you would have serv'd me thus
Unkindly, gentle Nell.

Nel.
Unkindly sir, in what? to make you master
Of all I have. Ile use you kindly trust me;
When you come drunke a nights home, in the morning
Ile make you amber Caudles.

Hold.
Saist thou so;
Give me thy hand: Father pray be not angry,
My Wife's my wife, and so I will maintaine her
Gainst all the world. Sir Timothy, your spouse
Is not to be contemn'd, she's a good girle.
And therefore pray regard her.

Tim.
Very like; for your sake
I will doe much: Although I find my selfe
Made a starke Asse. Come hither Luce

Enter Clare, Grace, Thorougood, Freewit, Valentine, Busie.
Grace.
Your pardon Sir, and blessing.

Clar.
We have done sir
What cannot be undone, now if you will
Be foolish now, and vexe your selves, you may
Be laught at for your labour; they're our husbands,
And we no cause now to repent our choyce,
Nor you Sir to repine at.

Free.
Our duties
And after carriage, shall deserve your love,
Nor our fortunes Sir so meane, but may
Merit their portions.

Cov.
Well, you shall not
Report me cruell; you have my consent,
And blessing with it; neighbour Busie, Ile
Be friends with you, and at my intreaty
Sir Geffery shall be reconcil'd.

Bus.
How's that?
Give me thy fist good brother Knight, my daughters
Shall not come without portions; they shall have
Each one a Bolt of Holland, that's enough.
Sonne Knight give me thine too; and sonne Holdfast
Weele be as merry boyes, and drinke old Sacke
In plenteous glasses, till we all grow witty,
As humorous Poets; to your beds, the're ready,
Your wedding dinner shall be mine, weele dance,
And have the Song oth' Constable; March faire,
And get each one a chopping boy by Morning;
I and my Watchmen here will drinke your healths,
Though we doe lose our owne by it.

Free.
Mr. Busie,
Wee're all beholding to you, and 'tis fit,
We should confesse this Constable had wit.