Εικόνες σελίδας
PDF
Ηλεκτρ. έκδοση

sholic, and jealous that her lord lov'd her not, because she brought him none but daughters, and lives unknown to her husband, as he to her.

FRANCES, supposed the lady Frampul, being reputed his sole daughter and heir, the barony descending upon her, is a lady of great fortune, and beauty, but phantastical: thinks nothing a felicity, but to have a multitude of servants, and be call' mistress by them, comes to the inn to be merry, with a chambermaid only, and her servants her guests, &c. PRUDENCE, the chamber-inaid, is elected sovereign of the sports in the Inn, governs all, commands, and so orders, as the lord Latimer is exceedingly taken with her, and takes her to his wife, in conclusion.

Lord LATIMER and lord BEAUFORT, are a pair of young lords, servants and guests to the lady Frampul; but as Latimer falls enamour'd of Prudence, so doth Beaufort on the boy, the host's son, set up for Lætitia, the younger sister, which she proves to be indeed.

Sir GLORIOUS TIPTO, a knight, and colonel, hath the luck to think well of himself, without a rival, talks gloriously of any thing, but very seldom is in the right. He is the lady's guest, and her servant too; but this day utterly neglects his service, or that him. For he is so enamour'd on the Fly of the Inn, and the militia below stairs, with Hodge Huffle, and Bat Burst, guests that come in, and Trundle, Barnaby, &c. as no other society relisheth with him.

FLY, is the parasite of the Inn, visitor-general of the house, one that had been a strolling gipsy, but now is reclaim'd, to be inflamer of the reckonings.

PIERCE, the drawer, knighted by the colonel, stil'd Sir Pierce, and young Anon, one of the chief of the infantry.

JORDAN, the chamberlain, another of the militia, and an officer, commands the tertia of the beds.

[blocks in formation]

An IN-AND-IN man.] In-and-in was a game then in use, and played with four dice in a box: it was the usual diversion at ordinaries, and places of the like resort.

[blocks in formation]

"Long for your bill of fare, but every dish
"Be serv'd in i' the time, and to your wish:
"If any thing be set to a wrong taste,
"'Tis not the meat, there, but the mouth's
displac'd.

Remove but that sick palate, all is well.
"For this, the secure dresser bade me tell,
"Nothing more hurts just meetings, than a
crowd;
[loud:
"Or, when the expectation's grown too
"That the nice stomach would ha' this or
that,
[what:

" And being ask'd, or urg'd, it knows not

"When sharp or sweet, have been too much a feast,

"And both out-liv'd the palate of the guest. "Beware to bring such appetites to the stage, They do confess a weak, sick, queasie

[ocr errors]

age;

"And a shrewd grudging too of ignorance, "When clothes and faces 'bove the men

advance:

"Hear for your health, then, but at any hand,

"Before you judge, vouchsafe to under-
stand,

"Concoct, digest: if then, it do not hit,
"Some are in a consumption of wit,
"Deep he dares say, he will not think, that
all-

"For hereticks are not epidemical."

ACT I.

SCENE I.

Host, Ferret.

But never had the fate to see a fly

Alive

AM not pleas'd, indeed, you are i'

[Enter Lovel. your cups, or once heard, Drink, mine host, [you.

[speak,

Host. the right;
Nor is my house pleas'd, if my sign could
The sign o' the Light-Heart. There you
may read it;

So may your master too, if he look on't.
A heart weigh'd with a feather, and out-
weigh'd too:

[on't! A brain-child o' my own! and I am proud And if his worship think, here, to be melancholy,

In spite of me or my wit, he is deceiv'd;
I will maintain the rebus 'gainst all humours,
And all complexions i' the body of man,
That's my word, or i' the isle of Britain!

Fer. You have reason, good mine host.
Host. Sir, I have rhyme too.
Whether it be by chance or art,
"A heavy purse makes a light heart."
There 'tis exprest! first, by a purse of gold,
A heavy purse, and then two turtles, makes,
A heart with a light stuck in't, a Light-Heart!
Old Abbot Islip could not invent better,
Or prior Bolton with his Bolt and Ton'.
I am an inn-keeper, and know my grounds,
And study 'em; brain o' man, I study'em:
I must ha' jovial guests to drive my ploughs,
And whistling boys to bring my harvest
[master

home,

Or I shall hear no flails thwack. Here, your And you ha' been this fortnight, drawing

fleas

Out of my mats, and pounding 'em in cages Cut out of cards, and those rop'd round with pack-thread,

Drawn thorough birdlime! a fine subtilty! Or poring through a multiplying-glass, Upon a captiv'd crab-louse, or a cheese

mite

To be dissected, as the sports of nature,
With a neat Spanish needle! speculations
That do become the age, I do confess!
As measuring an ant's eggs with the silk-
worm's,

By a phantastic instrument of thread,
Shall give you their just difference to a hair!
Or else recovering o' dead flies with crums!
(Another quaint conclusion i' the physicks)
Which I ha' seen you busy at, thro' the key-
hole

Old Abbot Islip could not invent better,

Or such a cheerful chirping charm come from

SCENE II.

Lovel, Ferret, Host.

Lov. What's that? what's that? Fer. A buzzing of mine host About a fly a murmur that he has. Host. Sir, I am telling your Stote here, monsieur Ferret,

[you, sir, (For that I hear's his name) and dare tell If you have a mind to be melancholy, and musty, [Stocks, There's Footman inn, at the town's end, the Or Carrier's place, at sign o' the Broken Wain, [there, Mansions of state! take up your harbour There are both flies and fleas, and all variety Of vermin, for inspection or dissection. Lov. We ha' set our rest up here, sir, i' your heart. [not do it: Host. Sir, set your heart at rest, you shall Unless you can be jovial. Brain o' man, Be jovial first, and drink, and dance, and

drink.

[blocks in formation]

Host. Sir, they do scandal me, upo' the A poor quotidian rack o' mutton, roasted Dry to be grated! and that driven down With beer and butter-milk, mingled toge ther,

Or clarified whey instead of claret!
It is against my free-hold, my inheritance,
My Magna Charta, cor lætificat,

bush,

To drink such balder-dash, or bonny-clabber!
Gi' me good wine, or catholic, or christian,
Wine is the word that glads the heart of man;
And mine's the house of wine, Sack, says my
[poesie!
"Be merry, and drink sherry;" that's my
For I shall never joy i' my Light-Heart,
So long as I conceive a sullen guest,
Or any thing that's earthy!

Lov. Humorous host.
Host. I care not if I be.
Lov. But airy also,

Or prior Bolton with his BOLT and TON.] The reader may find in Camden's Remains, the rebus made use of by these ecclesiasticks to express their names on the several buildings erected by them, or belonging to them. It may not perhaps be immaterial to mention, that the word bolt is the same with arrow; which is the sense it bears in the proverbial expression, and in all our old writers. The bolt and ton, is a ton pierc'd through with an arrow.

Not to defraud you of your rights, or trench Upo' your privileges, or great charter, (For those are every hostler's language now) Say, you were born beneath those smiling stars, [Heart, Have made you lord, and owner of the Of the Light-Heart in Barnet; suffer us Who are more saturnine, t'enjoy the shade Of your round roof yet.

Host. Sir, I keep no shades

Nor shelters, I; for either owls or rere-mice.

SCENE III.

Ferret, Host, Lovel.

Fer. He'll make you a bird of night, sir. Host. Bless you, child!

[En. Fra. (the Host speaks to his child o' the by.

You'll make yourselves such.

Lov. That your son, mine Host?
Host. He's all the sons I have, sir.
Lov. Pretty boy!
Goes he to school?

Fer. O lord, sir, he prates Latin,
An' 'twere a parrot, or a play-boy.
Lov. Thou

Commend'st him fitly.

Fer. To the pitch, he flies, sir.

He'll tell you what is Latin for a looking

glass,

[pan.

A beard-brush, rubber, or quick-warming Lov. What's that?

Fer. A wench, i' the inn-phrase, is all

these;

A looking-glass in her eye,

A beard-brush with her lips,

A rubber with her hand,

And a warning-pan with her hips.

Host. This, in your scurril dialect. But my Inn

Knows no such language.

Fer. That's because, mine host,
You do profess the teaching him yourself.
Host. Sir, I do teach him somewhat. By
degrees,

And with a funnel, I make shift to fill
The narrow vessel; he is but yet a bottle.
Lov. O let him lose no time tho'.
Host. Sir, he does not.
Lov. And less his manners.
Host. I provide for those:

Come hither, Frank, speak to the gentleman.
In Latin: he is melancholy; say,

I long to see him merry, and so would treat him.

Fra. Subtristis visu' es esse aliquantulùm

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

Of institution, from our ancestors,

Hath been deriv'd down to us, and receiv'd
In a succession, for the noblest way

Of breeding up our youth, in letters, arms,
Fair mein, discourses, civil exercise,
And all the blazon of a gentleman ?
Where can he learn to vault, to ride, to
fence,

To move his body gracefuller? to speak
His language purer? or to tune his mind,
Or manners, more to the harmony of nature,
Than in these nurseries of nobility?-

Host. I, that was, when the nursery's self was noble,

And only virtue made it, not the market,
That titles were not vented at the drum,
Or common outcry; goodness gave the
greatness,

And greatness worship: every house became
An academy of honour, and those parts-
We see departed, in the practice now,
Quite froni the institution.

Lov. Why do you say so?

Or think so enviously? do they not still Learn there the Centaur's skill, the art of Thrace,

To ride? or Pollux' mystery, to fence? The Pyrrhick gestures, both to dance and spring

In armour, to be active for the wars?
To study figures, numbers, and proportions,
May yield'em great in counsels, and the

arts

[tis'd? Grave Nestor and the wise Ulysses prac To make their English sweet upon their tongue!

As rev'rend Chaucer says?

Host. Sir, you mistake;

To play sir Pandarus my copy hath it,
And carry messages to madain Cresside.
Instead of backing the brave steed, o' morn-

ings,

To mount the chambermaid; and for a leap

[ocr errors]

O' the vaulting horse, to ply the vaulting house':

For exercise of arms, a bale of dice3,

Or two or three packs of cards to shew the cheat,

And nimbleness of hand: mistake a cloke From my lord's back, and pawn it. Ease his pockets

Of a superfluous watch. Or geld a jewel
Of an odd stone or so. Twinge three or
four buttons

From off my lady's gown. These are the arts,
Or seven liberal deadly sciences
Of pagery, or rather paganism,

As the tides run. To which, if he apply him,
He may, perhaps, take a degree at Tyburn,
A year the earlier: come, to read a lecture
Up pon Aquinas at St. Thomas à Waterings,
And so go forth a laureat in hemp circle!
Lov. You're tart, mine Host, and talk
above your seasoning,

O'er what you seem: it should not come,
methinks,

[ness! Under your cap, this vein of salt and sharpThese strikings upon learning, now and then? How long have you (if your dull guest may [Heart Drove this quick trade, of keeping the Light, Your mansion, palace here, or hostelry? Host. Troth, I was born to somewhat, sir,

2

ask it)

above it.

Lov. I easily suspect that: mine host,

your name.

And for a leap

[blocks in formation]

Nor can we, as the songster says, "come al
"To be wrapt soft and warm in fortune's
smock:"
[kind,
When she is pleas'd to trick or tromp man-
'Some may be coats, as in the cards; but
then
[and ostlers,
"Some must be knaves, some varlets, bawds,
As aces, duces, cards o' ten, to face it
Out i' the game, which all the world is.
Lov. But,

It being i' your free-will (as 'twere) to choose
What parts you would sustain, methinks a

[blocks in formation]

O' the vaulting horse, to PLAY the caulting house.] For play, which does by no means suit what follows, we must read, I presume, ply the vaulting house.

For exercise of arms a BALE OF DICE.] i. e. a pair of dice; the expression is common to the sportsmen of Jon-on's age, as well as the preceding.

"What lo man, se here of Dyce a bale."

Come to read a lecture

Skelton's Bouge of Court.

Upon Aquinas at St. Thomas à Waterings.] Antiently the place where criminals were executed, in the county of Surrey.

Some may be cOATS, as in the cards.] This shews us that our common expression of court-cards, tho' seemingly justified by the names king, queen, &c. is inaccurate. Those cards are named from the coats or dresses which the painted figures are drawn in. What follows in the next line but one, grew in time to be proverbial;

-Cards o' ten, to face it

Out 'the game, which all the world is.

A card o' ten, is what we now call a tenth card, and the phrase "to face it with a card of ten," is to win it, or get the better of it. To this purpose Shakspeare:

Tra. "A vengeance on your crafty wither'd hide!
"Yet I have fac'd it with a card of ten.”

Taming of the Shrew.

Which passage Mr. Warburton thus explains, that is, with the highest card, in the old simple games of our ancestors; so that this became a proverbial expression. So Skelton, First pycke a quarrel, and fall out with him then, "And so out-face him with a card of ten.”

[ocr errors]

There is a preceding line, which deserves a remark;

When she is pleas'd to trick or tromp mankind.

The common etymology of the word trump, as made use of in games at cards, derives it from a corruption of triumph; but from the manner in which our poet has here spelt the word, it is probable he thought it was derived from the French tromper, to deceive. And indeed it will easily bear this acceptation. A person playing at the game thinks he shall win the trick, till his adversary takes it from him by a tromp; he is trompt, or deceived. The songster mentioned above is Juvenal, from whom the expression, "sons of the white hen," gallinæ filius albæ, is borrowed.

[ocr errors]

SCENE IV. Lovel.

Your weazle here may tell you I talk bawdy, And teach my boy it; and you may believe him:

But sir, at your own peril, if I do not:
And at his too, if he do lie, and affirm it.
No slander strikes, less hurts, the innocent.
If I be honest, and that all the cheat
Be of myself, in keeping this Light-Heart,
Where, I imagine all the world's a play;
The state, and men's affairs, all passages
Of life, to spring new scenes; come in, go
out,

And shift, and vanish; and if I have got
A seat to sit at ease here, i' mine inn",
To see the comedy; and laugh, and chuck
At the variety and throng of humours
And dispositions, that come justling in,
And out still, as they one drove hence ano-
ther:

Why will you envy me my happiness? Because you are sad and lumpish; carry a [rings,

load-stone

I' your pocket, to hang knives on; or jet T'entice light straws to leap at 'em ; are

not taken

With the alacrities of an host! 'tis more,
And justlier, sir, my wonder, why you took
My house up, Fidler's-hall, the seat of noise,
And mirth, an inn here, to be drowsy in,
And lodge your lethargy in the Light-Heart,
As if some cloud from court had been your
harbinger,
[charge,

Or Cheap-side debt-books, or some mistress'
Seeing your love grow corpulent, gi' it a dyet,
By absence, some such mouldy passion!
Lov. 'Tis guess'd unhappily.
Fer. Mine host, yo're call'd.
Host. I come, boys.

Lov. Ferret, have not you been ploughing With this mad ox, mine host? nor he with

[blocks in formation]

O love, what passion art thou ! So tyrannous! and treacherous! first t' enslave, [thee! And then betray, all that in truth do serve That not the wisest, nor the wariest creature, Can more dissemble thee, than he can bear Hot burning coals, in his bare palm, or bosom! And less conceal, or hide thee, than a flash Of enflam'd powder, whose whole light doth lay it

Open to all discovery, even of those
Who have but half an eye, and less of nose!
An host, to find me! who is, commonly,
The log, a little o' this side the sign-post!
Or at the best some round-grown thing, a
jug,
[guests,

Fac'd with a beard, that fills out to the
And takes in fro' the fragments o' their jests?
But I may wrong this out of sullenness,
Or my mistaking humour? Pray thee,
phant'sie,

Be lay'd again. And, gentle melancholy,
Do not oppress me; I will be as silent,
As the tame lover should be, and as foolish.

[blocks in formation]

TO SIT AT EASE HERE I MINE INN.] To take one's case here. in one's inn, was an antient proverb of our ancestors, which arose from the right every man hath to be at ease, and quiet in his own house. Hence the assaulting a man therein, was deemed a capital offence. This offence in our old law is called Hamsoken; and the treatise intituled Mirror de Justices describes it in the very words of the proverb: Hamsockne d'antient ordinance est pêche mortelle, car droit est que chesun eit quiet en som hostel qui a luy est. And to this Falstaff alludes, in the following application: "Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn, but I "shall have my pocket pick'd?"" First part of Henry IV. act 3. sc. 5.

? That like the rugged Roman alderman

Old master GROSS, surnam'd'Ayiλaços,

Was never seen to laugh, but at an ass.] It is necessary to give a little light to our poet's joke: the Roman alluded to, and here called master Gross, was Crassus the grandfather of Crassus the rich. And, as Pliny tells us, he was never seen to laugh but once, and thet was at an ass mumbling a thistle.

« ΠροηγούμενηΣυνέχεια »