You have a silver beaker of my wife's. Fluel. You say not true: 'tis gilt. Can. Then you say true. And being gilt, the guilt lies more on you. Cast. I hope you're not angry, sir. Can. Then you hope right; for I am not angry. Can. I moved! 'twas you were moved, you were brought hither. Cast. But you (out of your anger and impatience) Caused us to be attached. Can. Nay, you misplace it. Out of my quiet sufferance I did that, And not any wrath. Had I shown anger, I should have then pursued you with the law, And hunted you to shame; as many worldlings Do build their anger upon feebler grounds. The more's the pity! Many lose their lives For scarce so much coin as will hide their palms; Which is most cruel. Those have vexed spirits That pursue lives. In this opinion rest, The loss of millions could not move my breast. Fluel. Thou art a blest man, and with peace dost deal; Such a meek spirit can bless a commonweal. Can. Gentlemen, now 'tis upon eating time; Pray part not hence, but dine with me to-day. Cast. I never heard a carter yet say nay To such a motion. I'll not be the first. Roger. Anon, forsooth. Bel. What are you playing the rogue about? Roger. About you, forsooth: I'm drawing up a hole in your white silk stocking. Bel. Is my glass there? and my boxes of complexion? Roger. Yes, forsooth; your boxes of complexion are here, I think; yes 'tis here; here's your two complexions.-And if I had all the four complexions, I should ne'er set a good face upon't. Some men, I see, are born under hard-favoured planets, as well as women. Zounds, I look worse now than I did before: and it makes her face glister most damnably. There's knavery in daubing, I hold my life; or else this is only female pomatum. Enter BELLAFRONT, not full ready, without a gown; she sits down; with her bodkin curls her hair, then colours her lips. Bel. Where's my ruff and 24 poker, you blockhead? Roger. Your ruff, your poker, are ingend'ring together on the cupboard of the court, or the 25 court cup-board. Bel. Fetch 'em is the pox in your hams, you : can go no faster? Roger. Would the pox were in your fingers, unless you could leave flinging; catch- [Exit. Bel. I'll catch you, you dog, by and by : do you grumble? [She sings. 23 Chafing-dish.-To heat the poking-irons. 24 Poker-This instrument, of which mention is frequently made in contemporary writers, is sometimes called poting stick, and at others a poking stick. It was used to adjust the plaits of ruffs, which were then generally worn by the ladies. Stowe says, that these poking sticks were made of wood or bone until about the 16th year of Queen Elizabeth, when they began to be made of steel. In Mr Steevens's Note to Winter's Tale, A. 4. S. 3. many examples are produced, to which it is unnecessary to add more, as during the course of these volumes such frequent notice is taken of the ruff, and this its necessary ap pendage. 25 Court cup-board-A court cup-board was probably what we call at present a side-board. Mr Steevens says, that two of them are still remaining in Stationers-Hall, and their use is exactly described, as Mr Nichols observes, in the following line from Chapman's May Day, 1611: "Court cup-boards planted with flaggons, cans, cups, beakers, &c." See Notes on Romeo and Juliet, A. 1. S. 5. VOL. I. 3 x Cupid is a god, as naked as my nail, Down down, down, down, I fall down and arise; down, I never shall arise. Roger. Troth, madam, then leave off the trade, if you shall never rise. Bel. What trade, goodman Abram? Roger. Why, that of down and arise, or the falling trade. Bel. I'll fall with you by and by. Roger. If you do, I know who shall smart for't: Troth, mistress, what do 1 look like now? Bel. Like what you are; a panderly sixpenny rascal. Roger. I may thank you for that: in faith I look like an old Proverb, Hold the candle before the devil. Bel. Ud's life, I'll stick my knife in your guts and you prate to me so: What? [She sings. Well met, pug, the pearl of beauty: umb, umb, How now, sir knave, you forget your duty, umb, umb. Marry muff, sir, are you grown so dainty; fa, la, la, &c. Is it you, sir? the worst of twenty, fa, la, la, leera la. Pox on you, how dost thou hold my glass? Roger. Why, as I hold your door, with my fingers. Bel. Nay, pray thee, sweet honey Roger, hold up handsomely: Sing Pretty wantons warble, &c. we shall ha' guests to-day, I'll lay my little maidenhead, my nose itches so. Roger. I said so too last night, when our fleas twing'd me so. Bel. So, poke my ruff now. My gown, my gown! have I my fall? 26 Where's my fall, Roger? [One knocks. Roger. Your fall, forsooth, is behind. 26 Where's my falt-From the following passages in the Malecontent, A. 5. S. 3. the fall appears to have been a part of dress worn about the neck as ruffs were, but different from them: "There is such a deal of pinning these ruffs, when a fine clean fall is worth them all." Again," If you should chance to take a nap in the afternoon, your falling hand requires no poking stick to recover his form." They seem to have been something like bands, but larger. It must, however, be acknowledged, that they might be a species of the ruff; for, in Laugh and lie downe, or the World's Folly, 1605, it is said, "there sat with her poting sticke, stiffening a fall, and singing the Ballet, &c." 27 Ipocras,-or Ypocras. The following receipt for making this liquor is extracted from Strutt's View of the Manners, &c. of the Inhabitants of England, Vol. III. p. 74., where it is copied from Arnold's Chronicle of London.-The Crafte to make Ypocras: "Take a quarte of red wyne, an ounce of synamon, and "halfe an once (ounce) of gynger, a quarter of an unnce of greynes and longe peper, and half a pounde of ་ suger, and brose all this, (not too small) and then put them in a bage of wullen cloth, made therefore, "with the wine, and lete it hange over a vessell tyll the wyne be rune thorowe." 28 Teston.-A coin worth about 18d. sterling. 29 Manchet, or fine white bread. "Panis primarius, a G. michette, miche. Panis candidior et purior, hoc dim. à Lat. Mica. q. d. Micula. Skin."-JUNIUS's Etymologicon. Cast. Here's most herculanean tobacco! ha' some, acquaintance? Bel. Foh, not I: makes your breath stink, like the piss of a fox.-Acquaintance, where supped you last night? Cast. At a place, sweet acquaintance, where your health 30 danced the canaries i'faith; you should ha' been there. Bel. I there among your punks? marry fah, hang 'em: I scorn't: will you never leave sucking of eggs in other folks' hens' nests? Cast. Why in good troth, if you'll trust me, acquaintance, there was not one hen at the board; ask Fluello. Fluel. No faith, cuz; none but cocks; Signior Malavella drunk to thee. Bel. O, a pure beagle; that horse-leach there? Fluel. And the knight, Sir Oliver Lollio, swore he would betow a taffata petticoat on thee, but to break his fast with thee. Bel. With me! I'll choke him then; hang him molecatcher, it is the dreamingest snotty-nose. Pior. Well, many took that Lollio for a fool, but he's a subtle fool. Bel. Aye, and he has fellows: 31 of all filthy dry-fisted knights, I cannot abide that he should touch me. Cast. Why, wench, is he scabbed? Bel. Hang him, he'll not live to be so honest, nor to the credit to have scabs about him. His betters have 'em; but I hate to wear out any of his coarse knighthood, because he's made like an alderman's night-gown, faced all with coney before, and within nothing but fox: this 32 sweet Oliver will eat mutton till he be ready to burst, but the lean-jawed slave will not pay for the scraping of his trencher. 33 Pior. Plague him; set him beneath the salt; and let him not touch a bit, till every one has had his full cut. Fluel. Lord Ello, the gentleman-usher, came into us too: marry 'twas in our cheese, for he had been to borrow money for his lord of a citi zen. Cast. What an ass is that lord to borrow money of a citizen? Bel. Nay, God's my pity, what an ass is that citizen to lend money to a lord. 30 Danced the canaries -The following account of this dance is extracted from Sir John Hawkins's History of Music, Vol IV. p. 391.: "There occurs, in the Opera of Dioclesian, set to music by Purcell, a "dance called the Canaries: of this, and also another called Trenchmore, it is extremely difficult to ren"der a satisfactory account. The first is alluded to by Shakespeare in the following passage: "Moth. Master, will you win your love with a French brawl? "Arm. How mean'st thou? brawling in French? "Moth. No, my compleat master: but to jigg off a tune at the tongue's end, canary to it with your feet, "humour it with turning up your eye-lids, &c. "As to the air itself, it appears, by the example in the Opera of Dioclesian, to be a very sprightly "movement of two reprises, or strains, with eight bars in each. The time three quarters in a bar, the “first pointed. That it is of English invention, like a country dance, may be inferred from this circum"stance, that none of the foreign names that distinguish one kind of air from another, correspond in the "least with this. Nay, farther, the appellation is adopted by Couperin, a Frenchman, who, among his "lessons, has an air which he entitles CANARIE." 31 Of all filthy dry-fisted knights.—A moist hand is vulgarly accounted a sign of an amorous constitution. See the Notes of Dr Johnson and Mr Steevens on Twelfth Night, A. 1. S. 3. 32 This sweet Oliver will eat mutton.-In Shakespeare's As you like it, A. 4. S. 3. the clown sings a few lines of a song, in which the epithet sweet is joined to the name Oliver. Mr Tyrwhitt observes, that this epithet seems to have been peculiarly appropriated to Oliver, for which he was perhaps originally obliged to the old song, of which only the few lines preserved by Shakespeare now remain. 33 Set him beneath the salt.-This refers to the manner in which our ancestors were seated at their meals. "The tables being long," says Mr Whalley, Note to Cynthia's Revels, A. 2. S. 2. “the salt was "commonly placed about the middle, and served as a kind of boundary to the different quality of the "guests invited. Those of distinction were ranked above; the space below was assigned to the depen "dants, or inferior relations of the master of the house. This custom is yet preserved at the Lord "Mayor's and some other public tables." It is mentioned in Massinger's Unnatural Combat, A. 3. S. 1.: -he believes it is the reason "You ne'er presume to sit above the salt." The City Madam, by the same, A. 1. S. 1. ; -My proud lady "Admits him to her table, marry ever Dekkar's Bell-man's Night-walkes, Sign. C.: " -for hee that had the graine of the table with his trencher, paid no more than hee that placed himselfe beneath the salt," See also Mr Whalley's Note on Cynthia's Revels. Enter MATHEO and HIPOLITO; HIPOLITO, saluting the Company as a Stranger, walks off. ROGER comes in sadly behind them with a Pottle-pot, and stands aloof off. Math. Save you, gallants. Signior Fluello, exceedingly well met, as I may say. Fluel. Signior Matheo, exceedingly well met too, as I may say. Math. And how fares my little pretty mistress? Bel. Even as my little pretty servant sees, three court-dishes before her, and not one good bit in them. How now? why the devil stand'st thou so? art in a trance? Rog. Yes, forsooth. Bel. Why dost not fill out their wine? Rog. Forsooth, 'tis filled out already: all the wine that the signior has bestowed upon you is cast away; a porter ran a little at me, and so faced me down that I had not a drop. Bel. I'm curst to let such a withered artichokefaced rascal grow under my nose: now you look like an old he-cat going to the gallows: I'll be hanged if he ha' not put up the money to coneycatch 34 us all. Rog. No truly, forsooth, 'tis not put up yet. Bel. How many gentlemen hast thou served thus? Rog. None but five hundred, besides appren tices and serving-men. Bel. Dost think I'll pocket it up at thy hands? Rog. Yes, forsooth, I fear you will pocket it up. Bel. Fie, fie, cut my lace, good servant; I shail ha' the mother presently, I'm so vexed at this horse-plumb. Fluel. Plague, not for a scal'd 35 pottle of wine. Math. Nay, sweet Bellafront, for a little pig's wash. Cast. Here, Roger, fetch more; a mischance i'faith, acquaintance. Bel. Out of my sight, thou ungodly puritanical creature! Rog. For the t'other pottle? yes, forsooth. [Erit ROGER, and enter HIPOLITO. Bel. Spill that too; what gentleman is that, servant? your friend? Hip. No, good Castruchio. Fluel. You have abandoned the court, I see, my lord, since the death of your mistress. Well, she was a delicate piece.-Beseech you sweet,— come, let us serve under the colours of your ac quaintance still-for all that. Please you to meet here at the lodging of my cuz, I shall bestow a banquet upon you. Hip. I never can deserve this kindness, sir. What may this lady be, whom you call cuz? Fluel. Faith, sir, a poor gentlewoman, of passing good carriage; one that has some suits in law, and lies here in an attorney's house. Hip. Is she married? Fluel. Hah, as all your punks are! a captain's wife, or so I never saw her betore, my lord. Hip. Never, trust me,-a goodly creature. Fluel. By gad, when you know her, as we do, you'll swear she is the prettiest, kindest, sweetest, most bewitching, honest ape, under the poie. A skin, your sattin is not more soft, nor your lawn whiter. Hip. Belike then, she's some sale courtezan. Fluel. Troth, as all your best faces are, a good wench. Hip. Great pity that she's a good wench. Math. Thou shalt, i'faith, mistress.-How now, signiors? what, whispering? did not I lay a wager I should take you, within seven days, in a house of vanity? Hip. You did, and I beshrew your heart, you have won. Math. How do you like my mistress? Hip. Well, for such a mistress: Better, if your mistress be not your master. I must break manners, gentlemen; fare you well. Math. 'Sfoot, you shall not leave us. Bel. The gentleman likes not the taste of our company. Omnes. Beseech you, stay. Hip. Trust me, my affairs beckon for me; pardon me. Math. Will you call for me half an hour hence here? Hip. Perhaps I shall. Math. Perhaps! fah! I know you can swear to me you will. Hip. Since you will press me, on my word I Math. Gods so, a stool, a stool! If you love me, mistress, entertain this gentleman respectful-will. ly, and bid him welcome. Bel. He's very welcome; pray, sir, sit. Fluel. Count Hipolito, is't not? Cry your mercy, siguior; you walk here all this while, and we not hear you! Let me bestow a stool upon you, beseech you; you are a stranger here, we know the fashions o'the house. Cast. Please you, be here, my lord? [Tobacco. [Exit. Bel. What sullen picture is this, servant? Math. 'Tis Count Hipolito, the brave count. Pior. As gallant a spirit as any in Milan, you sweet Jew. Fluel. Oh, he's a most essential gentleman, cuz, Cast. Did you never hear of Count Hipolito's acquaintance? Bel. Marry, muff a' your counts, and there be no more life in 'em. 34 Coney-catch-See Note 12. p. 523. 35 Scal'd pottle of wine.-See Note 10. p. 523. Math. He's so malcontent!-Sirrah, Bellafronta and you be honest gallants, let's sup together, and have the count with us: thou shalt sit at the upper end, punk. Bel. Punk, you soused gurnet! 36 Math. King's truce: come, I'll bestow the supper to have him but laugh. Cast. He betrays his youth too grossly to that tyrant melancholy. Math. Ail this for a woman? | out a band in your waistcoat, 37 and the linings of your kirtle outward, like every common hackney that steals out at the back gate of her sweet knight's lodging. Bel. Go, go hang yourself. Cast. It's dinner-time, Matheo; shali's hence? Omnes. Yes, yes; farewell, wench. [Exeunt. Bel. Farewell, boys.-Roger, what wine sent they for? Rog. Bastard wine; 38 for if it had been truly Bel. A woman! some whore. What sweet begotten, it would not ha' been ashamed to come jewel is't? Pior. Would she heard you. Fluel. Troth, so would Ï. Cast. And I, by heaven. Bel. Nay, good servant, what woman? Bel. Pr'ythee tell me, a buss, and tell me: I warrant he's an honest fellow, if he take on thus for a wench: Good rogue, who? : Math. By the lord I will not, must not, faith, mistress is't a match, sirs? this night, at th' Antilope; aye, for there's best wine, and good, boys. Omnes. 'Tis done, at the Antilope. Bel. I cannot be there to-night. Fluel. Why, then, put it off till Friday: wo't come then, cuz? Bel. Well. Enter ROGERr. Math. You're the waspishest ape.-Roger, put your mistress in mind to sup with us on Friday next: you'd best come like a madwoman, with in. Here's six shillings to pay for nursing the bastard. Bel. A company of rooks! O good, sweet Roger, run to the poulter's and buy me some fine larks. Hip. Is the gentleman, my friend, departed, mistress? Bel. His back is but new turned, sir. Bel. I can direct you to him. Bel. If you please stay, he'll not be absent If I may use your room, I'd rather walk. 36 You sous'd gurnet!-An appellation of contempt very frequently employed in the old comedies. See Mr Steevens's vote on the First Part of Henry IV. A. 4. S. 2. 37 Without a band in your waistcoat.-From the following passages it appears, that some particular gar ment like a waistcoat was formerly worn by the courtezans. The Humorous Lieutenant, by Beaumont and Fletcher, Vol. III. p. 30. edit. 1778: "I'll put her into action for a waistcoat: “And, when I have rigg'd her up once, this small pinnace And, in Wit without Money, Vol. II. p. 368., Luce says, -Do you think you're here, sir, "Amongst your waistcoatiers, your base wenches And, in the beginning of the Humorous Lieutenant, one of the gentlemen ushers calls Celia a waistcoateer, when in a disposition to apply to her the severest term of reproach. 38 Bastard wine.-Barret, in his Alvearie, explains Bastarde to be muscadell, sweete wine. Vin doulr, bastard, muscadell. And, Blount says-" Muscadel is a kind of wine, so called, because for sweetness and "" smell it resembles musk. This wine comes for the most part from the isle Creta, or Candy; for this "island (as Ortelius reports) yearly transports 12,000 buts of it. Others say it takes name from Monto "Alcino in Italy." Mr Tollet, in a Note to the First Part of Henry IV. A. 2. S. 4., gives the following extract from Maison Rustique, translated by Markham, 1616, p. 635.:-" Such wines are called Mun"grell, or bastard wines, which (betwixt the sweet and astringent ones) have neither manifest sweetness, ** nor manifest astriction, but indeed participate and contain in them both qualities." See also Mr Steevens's Note. |