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Gi' him his doublet again, the air is piercing; Bca. Nor coming on, sweet lady, things You may take cold, my lord. See whom
thus standing! you ha' married,
Fly. But what's the heinousness of my Your host's son, and a boy.
offence ? Fly. You are abus'd.
Or the degrees of wrong you suffer'd by it? Lid. Much joy, my lord.
In having your daughter match'd thus hapPru. If this be your Lætitia,
pily, She'll prove a counterfeit mirth, and a clip'd Into a house, a brave young blood, lady.
[boy! And a prime peer o' the realm ? Ser. 'A boy, a boy, my lord has married Bưa. Was ihat your plot, Fly? Lat. Raise all the house in shout and Gi’me a cloke, take her again among you. laughter, a boy!
I'll none o' your Light-Heart fosterlings, no Host. Stay, what is here ! peace, rascals,
inmates, stop your throats.
Supposititious fruits of an host's brain,
And his Fly's hatching, to be put upon me. SCENE V.
There is a royal court o' the Star-chamber,
Will scatter all these mists, disperse these Nurse. [To them.]
vapours, That maggot, worm,
that insect! O my And clear the truth. Let beggars match child,
with beggars, My daughter! where's that Fly? I'll fly in That shall decide it. I will try it there. The vermin, let me come to him.
Nur. Nay, then, ny lord, it's not enough Fly. Why, nurse Sheele?
I see Nur. Hang thee, thou parasite, thou son You are licentious, but you will be wicked. of crums
[child, Yo' are not alone content to take my And orts, thou hast undone me, and my
daughter, My daughter, my dear daughter.
Against the law; but having taken her, Host. Wha' means this? [ruin'd, You would repudiate, and cast her off,
Nur. O sir, my daughter, my dear child is Now at your pleasure, like a beast of power, By this your Fiy, here, married in a stable, Witbout all cause, or colour of a cause, And sold unto a husband.
I hat, or a noble, or an honest man, Host. Stint thy cry,
Should dare t except against; her poverty, llarlot, if that be all, didst thou not sell him Is poverty a vice? To me for a boy and brought'st him in Bea. Th' age counts it so. boy's rags
Nur. God help your lordship, and your Here to my door, to beg an alms of me?
peers that think so, Nur. I did, good master, and I crave If any be: it not, God bless them all, your pardon;
And help the number o' the virtuous, But 'tis my daughter, and a girl.
If poverty be a crime. You may object Tlost. Why said st thou
Our beggary to us, as an accident, It was a boy, and sold'st him then to me But never det per, no inherent baseness. With such entreaty, for ten shillings, carlin? And I must tell you now, young lord of dirt,
Nur. Because you were a charitable man As an incensed mother, she hath more I heard, good master, and would breed him And better blood running i' those small well,
veins, I would ha' giv'n him you for nothing gladly. Than all the race of Beauforts have in mass, Forgive the lie o' my mouth, it was to save Though they distil their drops from the The fruit of my womb. A parent's needs
leit rib are urgent,
(natures. Of John o' Gaunt. And few do know that tyrant o'er good Host. Old mother of records, But you reliev'd her, and me too, the Thou know’st her pedigree then i whose mother,
daughter is she And took me into your house to be the Nur. The daughter and co-heir to the For which heaven heap all blessings on your
lord Frampul, head,
This lady's sister! Whilst there can one be added !
Lad. Vline? what is her name?
Lud. Sister, () gladness! then you are Nur. So I am, God help me.
Lad. On my knees I bless
Nur. And to the author
Of that blest light, I ope my other eye,
Which hath almost, now, seven years been But take your mistress, first, my child: I shut,
(sister Dark as my vow was, never to see light, To give her now, with her consent; her Till such a light restor'd it, as my children, Is given already to your brother Beaufort. Or your dear father, who, I hear, is not. Lov. Is this a dream now, after my first Beu. Give me my wite, I own her now,
sleep? and will have her.
Or are these phant'sies made i’ the Light Host. But you must ask my leave first,
Heart? my young lord.
(master, And sold i' the New Inn ? Leave is but' light. Ferret, go bolt your Host. Best go to bed, Here's gear will startle him. I cannot keep And dream it over all. Let's all go sleep, The passion in me, I am e'en turn'd child, Each with his turtle. Fly, provide us lodAnd I must weep. Fly, take away mine
[my lord ; Get beds prepar'd; yo' are master now o'the My beard and cap here, from me, and fetch The lord o' the Light-Heart, I give it you. I am her father, sir, and you shall now Fly was my fellow-gipsy. All my family, Ask my consent, before you have her. Indeed, were gipsies, tapsters, ostlers, chamWife !
berlains, My dear and loving wife ! my honour'd Reduced vessels of civility.
[ving Who here hath gair'd but I? I am lord But here stands Pru, neglected, best deserFrampul,
Of all that are i’ the house, or i' my heart; The cause of all this trouble: I am he Whom though I cannot help to a fit husHave measur'd all the shires of England
I'll help to that will bring one, a just porWales, and her mountains, seen those I have iwo thousand pound in bank for Pru, wilder nations,
Call for it when she will. Of people in the Peak, and Lancashire ;
Beu. And I as inuch. Their pipers, fidiers, rushers, puppet-mas- Host. There's somewhat yet, four thouters,
sand pound! that's better, Juglers and gipsies, all the sorts of canters, Than sounds the proverb, “ Four bare legs And colonies of beggars, tumblers, ape-car
in a bed."
[to coin riers ;
Los. Me and her mistress, she hath power For to these savages I was addicted,
Up into what she will, To search their natures, and make odd dis- Lud. Indefinite Pru. coveries,
Lat. But I must do the crowning act of And here my wife, like a She-Mandevile,
bounty! Ventured in disquisition after me.
Host. What's that, my lord ? Nur. I may look up, admire, I cannot Lat. Give her myself, which here speak
By all the holy vows of love I do.
Spare all your promis'd portions; she's a Host. Take heart, and breathe, recover,
dowry Thou hast recover'd me, who here bad
So all-sufficient in her virtue and manners, coffin'd
That fortune cannot add to her. Myself alive, in a poor hostelry,
Pru. My lord, In penance of my wrongs done unto thee, Your praises are instructions to mine ears, Whom I long since gave lost.
Whence you have made your wife to live Nur. So did I you,
your servant, Till stealing mine own daughter from her Host. Lights: get us several lights. I lighted on this error hath cur'd all.
Lov. Stay, let thy niistress Bca. And in that cure, include my tres- But hear my vision sung, my dream of pass, mother,
[joy, And father, for my wife
Which I have brought, prepar'd, to bid us Hust. No, the Star-chamber.
And light us all to bed, 'i will be instead Bea. Away with that, you sour
the Of airing of the sheets with a sweet odour. sweetest lettice
Host. 'Twill be an incense to our sacrifice Was ever tasted.
Of love to-night, where I will woo afresh, Host. Gi’ you joy, my son,
And like Mæcenas, having but one wife, Cast her not off again. "O call me father, I'll marry her every hour of life hereafter. Lovel, and this your mother, if you
They go out with a song. + And like MÆCENAS, having but one WIFE,
I'll marry her every hour of life hereafter.] Terentia, the wife of Mecenas, is reported to have been not of the most gentle and complying manners, which necessarily produced many quarrels and reconcilements between her and her husband: this gave occasion to those words of Seneca, to which our poet alludes ; .Hunc esse, qui uxorem millies duxit, cùm unam habuerit. Senec. Epist. 114.
EPILOG U E.
“ PLAYS in themselves have neither
hopes nor fears; " Their fate is only in their hearers' ears: “ If you expect more than you had to-night, “ The maker is sick, and sad. But do him right;
[things fit, “ He meant to please you: for he sent “ In all the numbers both of sense and
wit; “ If they ha' not miscarried ! if they have, “ All that his faint and fall ring tongue
doth crave, " Is, that you not impute it to his brain, “ That's yet unhurt, altho’set round with
pain, “ It cannot long hold out. All strength must yield;
[field, Yet judgment would the last be in the
“ With a true poet. He could have hal'd in “ The drunkards, and the noises of the
inn, “ In his last act; if he had thought it fit “ To vent you vapours in the place of wit :
(or spue, “ But better 'twas that they should sleep,
“ Than in the scene to offend him or you. “ This he did think; and this do you forgive:
live. “ Whene'er the carcase dies, this art will “ And had he liv'd the care of king and queen,
(seen; “ His art in something more yet had been “ But mayors and shrieves may yearly fill
the stage: “ A king's, or poet's birth do ask an age."
Another EPILOGUE there was, made for the play, in the poet's
defence, but the play liv'd not in opinion, to have it spoken. “ A JOVIAL host, and lord of the New " We think it would have serv'd our scene Inn, [past therein,
as true, “ 'Clept the Light-Heart, with all that "If, as it is, at first we'd call d her Pru, “ Hath been the subject of our play to- “ For any mystery we there have found, night,
(delight. “ Or magick in the letters, or the sound. “ To give the king, and queen, and court “ She only meant was for a girl of wit, 6 But then we mean the court above the “ To whom her lady did a province fit: stairs,
[more of ears " Which she would have discharg’d, and “ And past the guard; men that have
done as well, " Than eyes to judge us: such as will not “ Had she been christen'd Joyce, Grace, hiss,
Doll, or Nell.” “ Because the chambermaid was named
· If, as it is, at first we'd call'd her Pru.] In the first draught of the play, the chambermaid's name was Cicely, which, it seems, was not approv'd of by the audience, and therefore altered by the poet to Prudence. In the edition of 1631, she is sometimes called Cis, and sometimes Pru, by mistake of the printer.
This Comedy, as it was never acted, but most negligently play'd by some, the King's
SERVANTS; and more squeamishly beheld and censur'd by others, the King's SUBJECts, 1629; is now, at last, set at liberty to the Readers, his Majesty's Servants and Subjects, to be judg’d of, 1631.
THE MAGNETICK LADY; OR,
LADY LOADSTONE, the Magnetick Lady. Doctor Rut, physician to the house.
Sir DiaphaNOUS SILKWORM, a courtier. Mistress PLACENTIA, her niece.
Mr. Practise, a lawyer. PLEASANCE, her waiting-woman.
Sir Moth INTEREST, an usurer, or moneyMISTRESS Keep, the niece's nurse.
bawd. Mother CHAIR, the midwife.
Mr. Bias, a ri-politick, or sub-secretary. MR. COMPASS, a scholar mathematick. MR. NEEDLE, the lady's steward and taylor. Captain IRONSIDE, a soldier.
The Chorus, by way of Induction, PARSON PALATE, prelate of the parish.
THE INDUCTION, or CHORUS.
gentleman and myself) that are sent thus
coupled unto you, upon state-business. A boy of the house meets them.
Boy. It concerns but the state of the Boy. WHAT do you lack, gentlemen ? stage, I hope. what is't
fine fancies, figures, Dam. O, you shall know that by degrees, humours, characters, ideas, definitions of boy. No man leaps into a business of state, lords and ladies ? Waiting-women, parasites, without fording first the state of the business. knights, captains, courtiers, lawyers, what Pro. We are sent unto you, indeed, from do you lack?
the people. Pro. A pretty prompt boy for the poetic Boy. The people! which side of the peoshop.
ple? Dam. And a bold! where's one o' your Dam. The venison side, if you know it, masters, sirrah, the poet?
boy. Boy. Which of 'em, sir? we have divers Boy. That's the left side. I hati rather that drive that trade, now: poets, poetac- they had been the right. cio's, poetasters, poetito's
Pro. So they are. Not the fæces, or Dam. And all haberdashers of small wit, grounds of your people, that sit in the oblique I
presume; we would speak with the poet caves and wedges of your house, your sinful o the day, boy
six-penny mechanicksBoy. Sir, he is not here. But I have the Dam. "But the better and braver sort of dominion of the shop, for this time, under your people ! plush and velvet outsides! him, and can shew you all the variety the that stick your house round like so many stage will afford for the present.
eminencesPro. Therein you will express your own
Boy. Of clothes, not understandings ? good parts, boy.
they are at pawn. Well, I take these as a Dam. And tie us two to you for the gen- part of your people though; what bring tle office.
you to me from these people? · Dam. And all haberdashers of small wit.] Shakspeare has an expression of the like kind, in King Henry the Eighth, act 5. scene 1,
“ Porter's Man. There was a haberdasher's wife of small wit, that railed upon me, till “ her pink'd porrenger fell off her head.” Dr. GREY.
Dam. You have heard, boy, the antient your people call authors, never dreamt of poets had it in their purpose, still to please l'any decorum, or what was proper in the this people.
scene; but grope at it i’ the darh, and feel Pro. 1, their chief aim was
or fumble for it. I speak it, both with their Dam. Populo ut placerent: (if he under- leave, and the leave o' your people. stands so much.)
Duin. But, why Humours Reconcil'd, I Boy. (Quas fecissent fabulas.) I under- would fain know? stand that sin' I learn'd Terence, i' the third Boy. I can satisfy you there too, if you forın at Westminster : go on, sir.
will. But, perhaps you desire not to be sa. Pro. Now, these people have employed tisfied. us to you, in all their names, to entreat an Dum. No? why should you conceive so, excellent play from you,
boy? Dam. For they have had very mean ones Boy. My conceit is not ripe yet; I'll tell from this shop of late, the stage as you call you that anon. ? The author beginning his it.
studies of this k nd, with Every Man in his Boy. Troth, gentlemen, I have no wares Humour; and after, Every Man out of his which I dare thrust upon the people with Ilumour; and since, cuntinuing in all his praise.' But this, such as it is, I will venture plays, especially those of the comic tread, with your people, your gay gallant people ; whereof the New-Inn was the last, some te so as you, again, will undertake for thein, cent humours still, or manners of inen, that that they shall know a good play when they went along with the times; tinding himself hear it; and will have the conscience and now near the close, or shutting up of his ingenuity beside to confess it.
circle, bath fancied to himself, in idea, this Pro. We'll pass our words for that; you Magnetick Mistress : a lady, a brave boueshall have a brace of us to engage ourselves. tiful house-keeper, and a virtuous widow;
Boy. You'll tender your names, gentle- who having a young niece, ripe for a man men, to our book then
and inarriageable, he makes that his centre Dam. Yes, here's Mr. Probee; a man of attractive, to draw thither a diversity of most powerful speech, and parts to persuade, guests, all persons of different humours to
Pro. And Mr. Damplay will make good make up his perimeter. And this he hath all he undertakes.
call’d Humours Reconcil'd. Boy. Good Mr. Probee, and Mr. Dam- Pro. I bold undertaking, and far greater play! I like your securities; whence do you
than the reconciliation of both churches; write yourselves ?
the quarrel between humours having been Pró. Of London, gentlemen; but knights much the ancienter; and, in my poor opie brothers, and knights friends, I assure you. nion, the root of all schism and faction both
Dam. And knights fellows too. Every in church and common-wealth. poet writes squire now.
Boy. Such is the opinion of many wise Boy. You are good names ! very good men, that meet at this shop still; but how he men, both of you! I accept you.
will speed in it, we cannot tell, and he himDam. And what is the title of your play self (it seems) less cares. For he will not here? The Magnetick Lady?
be entreated by us, to give it a prologue. Boy. Yes, sir, an attractive title the au- He has lost too much that way already, he thor has given it.
says. He will not woo the gentile ignorance Pro. A magnete, I warrant you.
so much. But careless of all vulgar censure, Dam. O no, from magnus, magna, mag- as pot depending on common approbation,
he is coniident it shall super-please judicious Boy. This gentleman hath found the true spectators, and to them he leaves it to work magnitude
with the rest, by example or otherwise, Dam. Of his portal or entry to the work, Dum. lle may be deceivd in that, boy: according to Vitruvius.
few follow examples now, especially if they Boy. Sir, all our work is done without a be good. portal-or Vitruvius. In foro, as a true Boy. The play is ready to begin, gentlevomedy should be. And what is conceal'd
men, I tell
Jest within, is brought out, and made present by expectat:on of the people, for whom you are report.
delegates: please you take a couple of seats Dum. We see not that always observ'd and plant yourselves, here, as near my by your authors of these times; or scarce ing as you can: tly every thing you see to any other.
the mark, and censure it treely: Boy. Where it is not at all known, how terrupt not the series or tbread of the argushou d it be obsery'd? The most of those ment, to break or pucker it, with unneces
2 The author beginning his studies of this kind, with Every Man in his Humour.) WA inust except those pieces which were offered to the stage before that play, and which did not succeed so well. The Case is altered has, I think, plain marks of being one of his earlier compositions.
you might defraud the
so you in