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The sixth, two and thirty; the seventh, three pound four;
The eighth, six pound and eight; the ninth, twelve pound sixteen ; And the tenth seven, five and twenty pound Twelve shillings. This thou art fall'n from by thy riot!
Should'st thou live seventy years, by spending sixpence
Once i' the seven: but in a day to waste it! There is a sum that number cannot reach! Out o' my house, thou pest of prodigality! Seed o' consumption! hence: a wicked keeper [penny,
Is oft worse than the prisoners. There's thy * Four tokens for thee. Out, away. My
May yet be innocent and honest. If not,
When you last lick'd her feet? the truth "Did you smell she was going?"
Put down that. "And not, "Not to return?" You are silent? good. And when [forth?" Consent. Leap'd you on Statute? "As she went There was consent, as she was going forth." 'Twould have been fitter at her corning home, [your tower: But you knew, "that she would not?" To [He commits him again. You are cunning, are you? I will meet your craft. [tell me, Block, shew your face, leave your caresses, [Calls forth Block, and examines him. And tell me truly, what affronts do you
Were done Pecunia, that she left my house? "None," say you so?" not that you know?" or "will know?" I fear me, I shall find you an obstinate cur. Why did your fellow Lollard cry this morning?
"'Cause Broker kickt him?" Why did
Broker kick him?
"Because he pist against my lady's gown
[Lollard is called again. Where did you lift your leg up last? 'gainst what? [for mercy? Are you struck dummerer now, and whine
Four TOKENS for thee.] Four farthings. Shun. I do confess, a WASHING blow.] swashing is the true word. See Swash, in Mr. in As you Like it,
Whose kirtle was't you gnaw'd too? mistress Band's? [Block bescumber "And Wax's stockings?" Who?“ did "Statute's white suit, wi' the parchment lace there: [out. "And Broker's sattin doublet?" All will They had offence, offence enough to quit [shews it, Appear, Block: fough! 'tis manifest; he
[Block is summoned the second time. Should he forswear't, make all the affidavits Against it, that he could afore the bench, And twenty juries, he would be convinc'd. He bears an air about him doth confess it. To prison again, close prison. Not you, Lollard;
[Block is remanded, and Lollard has the
You may enjoy the liberty of the house.
Fit. We come to bail your dogs. P. sen. They are not bailable. They stand committed without bail or mainprise.
Your bail cannot be taken.
Shun. Then the truth is,
Mad. Bait you rather.
Cym. A baited usurer will be good flesh. Fit. And tender, we are told.
P. sen. Who is the butcher,
Amongst you, that is come to cut my throat? Shun. You would die a calf's death fain, but 'tis an ox's
See Bartholomew-Fair, act 3. not. 4.
"We have a swashing and a martial outside,
Mad. Charge, man o' war. Alm. Lay him aboard.
Fit. Where is your
Shun. We'll give him a broad-side first.
Mad. Your pheasants and fat swans ?
Mad. But such as will not keep your
Shun. You were wont to ha' your breams—
An emblem o' yourself, an o'er-grown pike.
To swallow twenty such poor jacks ere now.
Alm. He'll eat them first,
While they are fat.
Fit, Faith, and when they are gone,
His kindred, spiders, natives o' the soil. Alm. Dust he will ha' enough here, to breed fleas.
Mud. But by that time he'll ha' no blood
to rear 'ein.
Shun. He will be as thin as a lanthorn, we shall see through him.. Alm. And his gut colon tell his intestina. P. sen. Rogues, rascals (baw waw.) [His dogs bark. Fit. He calls his dogs to his aid. Alm. O they rise but at mention of his tripes. [him. Cym. Let them alone, they do it not for Mad. They bark se defendendo. Shun. Or for custom,
As commonly curs do one for another.
Lic. Arm, arm you, gentlemen jeerers, the old Canter
Penny-boy Canter, Penny-boy sen. Penny-boy jun. Pecunia, Train.
P. Ca. You see by this amazement and distraction, [frighted, What your companions were, a poor, afAnd guilty race of men, that dare to stand No breath of truth; but conscious to themselves
Of their no-wit, or honesty, ran routed
The wretched, or with buffoon licence jest
P. sen. Who's this? my brother! and restor'd to life!
[Penny-boy sen. acknowledgeth his elder brother.
P. sen. Next, I restore these servants to their lady,
[nance; With freedom, heart of chear, and counteIt is their year and day of jubilee. Tra. We thank you, sir.
[Her Train thanks him. P. sen. And lastly, to my nephew
I give my house, goods, lands, all but my vices,
And those I go to cleanse; kissing this lady, Whom I do give him too, and join their hands. [we thank 'em. P. Ca. If the spectators will join theirs, P. jun. And wish they may, as I, enjoy
Pec. And so Pecunia herself doth wish, That she may still be aid unto their uses, Not slave unto their pleasures, or a tyrant Over their fair desires; but teach them all. The golden mean; the prodigal how to live;
The sordid and the covetous how to die: That, with sound mind; this, safe frugality.
Picklock, your guest, that SENATOR, hath infected you.] So the edition of 1716: the old edition, as it stands in the text, "that Stentor;" an appellation not improper for a noisy, bawling lawyer.
"Thus have you seen the maker's double
"To profit and delight; wherein our hope "Is, though the clout we do not always hit', "It will not be imputed to his wit: [start, "A tree so try'd, and bent, as 'twill not "Nor doth he often crack a string of art; "Though there may other accidents as strange [change, "Happen, the weather of your looks may
"Or some high wind of misconceit arise, "To cause an alteration in our skies: "If so, we are sorry, that have so mispent "Our time and tackle; yet he's confident, "And vows, the next fair day he'll have us shoot
"The same match o'er for him, if you'll come to't."
Though the CLOUT we do not always hit.] The metapor from archery: the clout is the white mark in the butts, which the archers aimed at. And so it is used by Shakspeare.
This Comedy was acted in the year 1605,
By the KING'S MAJESTY'S Servants,
THE NEW INN; OR, THE LIGHT HEART.
Lord well educated, and bred a scholar in was married young, to a virtuous gentlewoman, Sylly's daughter of the South, whose worth (tho' he truly enjoyed) he never could rightly value; but, as many green husbands (given over to their extravagant delights, and some peccant humours of their own), occasioned in his over-loving wife so deep a melancholy, by his leaving her in the time of her lying-in of her second daughter, she having brought him only two daughters, Frances and Lætitia: and (out of her hurt fancy) interpreting that to be a cause of her husband's coldness in affection, her not being blest with a son, took a resolution with herself, after her month's time, and thanksgiving rightly in the church, to quit her home, with a vow never to return, till by reducing her lord, she could bring a wished happiness to the family.
He in the mean time returning, and hearing of this departure of his lady, began, tho' over-late, to resent the injury he had done her; and out of his cock-brain'd resolution, entered into as solemn a quest of her. Since when, neither of them had been heard of. But the eldest daughter Frances, by the title of Lady Frampul, enjoyed the estate, her sister being lost young, and is the sole relict of the family.
ACT I. Here begins our Comedy.
This lady, being a brave, bountiful lady, and enjoying this free and plentiful estate, hath an ambitious disposition to be esteemed the mistress of many servants, but loves none. And hearing of a famous New-Inn, that is kept by a merry host, call'd Good-stock, in Barnet, invites some lords and gentlemen to wait on her thither, as well to see the fashions of the place, as to make themselves merry, with the accidents on the by. It happens there is a melancholy gentleman, one master Lovel, hath been lodged there some days before in the Inn, who (unwilling to be seen) is surprized by the lady, and invited by Prudence, the lady's chambermaid, who is elected governess of the sports in the Inn for that day, and install'd their sovereign. Lovel is persuaded by the host, and yields to the lady's invitation; which concludes the first act: having reveal'd his quality before to the host.
In the Second ACT,
Prudence and her lady express their anger conceiv'd at the taylor, who had promised to make Prudence a new suit, and bring it home, as on the eve, against this day. But he failing of his word, the lady had commanded a standard of her own best apparel to be brought down; and Prudence is so fitted. The lady being put in mind, that she is there alone without other company of women, borrows (by the advice of Pru) the host's son of the house, whom they dress with the host's consent, like a lady, and send out the coachman with the empty coach, as for a kinswoman of her ladyship's, mistress Lætitia Sylly, to bear her company: who attended with his nurse, an old chare-woman in the Inn, drest oddly by the host's counsel, is believed to be a lady of quality, and so receiv'd, entertain'd, and love made to her by the young lord Beaufort, &c. In the mean time the Fly of the Inn is discover'd to colonel Glorious, with the militia of the house, below the stairs, in the drawer, tapster, chamberlain, and hostler, inferior officers; with the coachman Trundle, Ferret, &c. And the preparation is made to the lady's design upon Lovel, his upon her, and the sovereign's upon both.
Here begins, at the Third ACT, the Epitasis, or business of the Play. Lovel, by the dexterity and wit of the sovereign of the sports Prudence, having two hours assign'd him of free colloquy, and love-making to his mistress, one after dinner, the other after supper; the court being set, is demanded by the lady Frampul, what love is? as doubting if there were any such power, or no. To whom he, first by definition, and after by argument, answers; proving and describing the effects of love, so vively, as she,
who had derided the name of love before, hearing his discourse, is now so taken both with the man and his matter, as she confesseth herself enamour'd of him, and, but for the ambition she hath to enjoy the other hour, had presently declared herself: which gives both him and the spectators occasion to think she yet dissembles, notwithstanding the payment of her kiss, which he celebrates. And the court dissolves, upon news brought, of a new lady, a newer coach, and a new coachman call'd Barnaby.
The house being put into a noise, with the rumour of this new lady, and there being drinking below in the court, the colonel sir Glorious, with Bat Burst a broken citizen, and Hodge Huffle his champion; she falls into their hands, and being attended but with one footman, is uncivilly intreated by them, and a quarrel commenc'd, but is rescued by the valour of Lovel; which beheld by the lady Frampul, from the window, she is invited up for safety, where coming, and conducted by the host, her gown is first discovered to be the same with the whole suit, which was bespoken for Pru, and she herself, upon examination, found to be Pinnacia Stuff, the taylor's wife, who was wont to be pre-occupied in all his customers' best clothes, by the footman her husband. They are both condemned and censur'd, she stript like a doxey, and sent home a-foot. In the interim, the second hour goes on, and the question, at suit of the lady Frampul, is changed from love to valour; which ended, he receives his second kiss, and, by the rigour of the sovereign, falls into a fit of melancholy, worse, or more desperate than the first.
The Fifth and last ACT
Is the catastrophe, or knitting up of all, where Fly brings word to the host of the lord Beaufort's being married privately in the New-stable, to the supposed lady, his son; which the host receives as an omen of mirth; but complains that Lovel is gone to bed melancholic, when Prudence appears drest in the new suit, applauded by her lady, and employed to retrieve Lovel. The host encounters them, with this relation of lord Beaufort's marriage, which is seconded by the lord Latimer, and all the servants of the house. In this while, lord Beaufort comes in, and professes it, calls for his bed and bride-bowl to be made ready; the host forbids both, shews whom he hath married, and discovers him to be his son, a boy. The lord bridegroom confounded, the nurse enters like a frantic bedlamite, cries out on Fly, says she is undone in her daughter, who is confessed to be the lord Frampul's child, sister to the other lady, the host to be their father, she his wife. He finding his children, bestows them one on Lovel, the other on the lord Beaufort, the Inn upon Fly, who had been a gypsy with him; offers a portion with Prudence, for her wit, which is refused; and she taken by the lord Latimer to wife, for the crown of her virtue and goodness. And all are contented.
With some short Characterism of the chief Actors.
OOD-STOCK, the host (play'd well) aliàs the Lord FRAMPUL. He pretends to be a gentleman and a scholar, neglected by the times, turns host, and keeps an inn, the sign of the Light-Heart in Barnet: is supposed to have one only son, but is found to have none, but two daughters, Frances, and Lætitia who was lost young, &c.
LOVEL, a complete gentleman, a soldier and a scholar, is a melancholy guest in the Inn: first quarrel'd, after much honour'd and belov'd by the host. He is known to have been page to the old lord Beaufort, follow'd him in the French wars, after a companion of his studies, and left guardian to his son. He is assisted in his love to the lady Frampul, by the host, and the chambermaid Prudence. He was one that acted well too.
FERRET, who is called Stote and Vermin, is Lovel's servant, a fellow of a quick nimble wit, knows the manners and affections of people, and can make profitable and timely discoveries of them.
FRANK, suppos'd a boy, and the host's son, borrowed to be drest for a lady, and set up as a stale by Prudence, to catch Beaufort or Latimer, proves to be Lætitia, sister to Frances, and lord Frampul's younger daughter, stolen by a beggar-woman, shorn, put into boy's apparel, sold to the host, and brought up by him as his son.
NURSE, a poor chare-woman in the Inn, with one eye, that tends the boy, is thought the Irish beggar that sold him, but is truly the lady Frampul, who left her home melan