Enter DICK BURBAGE, HENRY CONDELL, and compass of his patron's folly. Why should not JOHN LOWIN. 10 W. Sly. The players. God save you. W. Sly. I pray you know this gentleman, my cousin: 'tis Mr Doomsday's son the usurer. H. Cond. I beseech you, sir, be covered. W. Sh. No, in good faith, for mine ease; " look you, my hat's the handle to this fan: god'sso, what a beast was I, I did not leave my feather at home! Well, but I'll take an order with [Puts his Feather in his Pocket. D. Burb. Why do you conceal your feather, you. sir? W. Sly. Why, cuz? Sink. Because I got it in the tilt-yard: 13 there was a herald broke my pate for taking it up. But I have worn it up and down the Strand, and met him forty times since, and yet he dares not challenge it. W. Sly. Do you hear, sir? this play is a bitter play. H. Cond. Why, sir, 'tis neither satire nor moral, but the mere passage of an history; yet there are a sort of discontented creatures that bear a stingless envy to great ones, and these will wrest the doings of any man to their base, malicious appliment; but should their interpretation come to the test, like your marmoset, they presently turn their teeth to their tail, and eat it. W. Sly. I will not go far with you; but I say, any man that hath wit may censure, if he sit in the twelvepenny room: and I say again, the play is bitter. D. Burb. Sir, you are like a patron that, pre senting a poor scholar to a benefice, enjoins him not to rail against any thing that stands within we enjoy the antient freedom of poesy? Shall we protest to the ladies, that their painting makes them angels? or to my young gallant, that his expence in the brothel shall gain him reputation? No, sir, such vices as stand not accountable to law should be cured as men heal tetters, by 'casting ink upon them. Would you be satisfied any thing else, sir? I W. Sly. Ay marry would I. would know how you came by this play? H. Cond. Faith, sir, the book was lost; and because 'twas pity so good a play should be lost, we found it, and play it. W. Sly. I wonder you would play it, another company having interest in it. H. Cond. Why not Malevole 14 in folio with us, as well as Ieronimo in decimo sexto with them! They taught us a name for our play, we call it, One for another. W. Sly. What are your additions? D. Burb. Sooth, not greatly needful; only as your sallet to your great feast, to entertain a little more time, and to abridge the not-received custom of music in our theatre. I must leave you, sir. [Exit BURBAGE. Sink. Doth he play the Malcontent? H. Cond. Yes, sir. Sink. I durst lay four of mine ears the play is not so well acted as it hath been. H. Cond. O! no, sir, nothing, Ad Parmenonis suem. 15 J. Low. Have you lost your ears, sir, that you are so prodigal of laying them? Sink. Why did you ask that, friend? J. Low. Marry, sir, because I have heard of a fellow would offer to lay a hundred pound wager, that was not worth five baubees; and in this kind you might venture four of your elbows: yet God defend your coat should have so many. Sink. Nay, truly, I am no great censurer, and yet I might have been one of the college of critics once. My cousin here hath an excellent memory, indeed, sir. W. Sly. Who, I? I'll tell you a strange thing of myself; and I can tell you, for one that never studied the art of memory, 'tis very strange too. 10 John Lowin.-Another of the original actors in Shakespeare's plays. "No, in good faith, for mine ease.-A quotation from the part of Osrick in Hamlet. See Vol. X. edit. 1778, p. 395. Sly might have been the original performer of that character. See Note 5. to The Taming of the Shrew, Vol. III. p. 396. S. 11 Blackfriars hath almost spoil'd Blackfriars for feathers.-See Note 1. to The Muses Looking-glass. 13 Tilt-yard.-Where the barriers were fought. 14 Why not Malevole, &c.—See Mr Collins's Note on Troilus and Cressida, Vol. IX. edit. 1778, p. 3. S. 15 Ad Parmenonis suem. H. Cond. What's that, sir? 16 Great Allexān|der when he came to the tomb of Achilles, W. Sly. Why, I'll lay a hundred pound, I'll walk but once down by the Goldsmith's-row in | Spāke with ǎ|big lōud|voice, O|thōu thrice|blēssed Cheap, take notice of the signs, and tell you them with a breath instantly. J. Low. 'Tis very strange. W. Sly. They begin as the world did, with Adam and Eve. There's in all just five-and-fifty. I do use to meditate much when I come to plays and happy. W. Sly. Alexander was an ass to speak so well of a filthy cullion. 17 J. Low. Good sir, will you leave the stage? I'll help you to a private room. W. Sly. Come, cuz, let's take some tobacco. Have you never a prologue? J. Low. Not any, sir. W. Sly. Let me see, I will make one extempore; Come to them, and fencing of a congey with arms and legs, Be round with them. "Gentlemen, 18 I could wish for the women's sakes you had all soft cushions; and, gentlewomen, I could wish that for the men's sakes you had all more easy standings." What would they wish more but the play now? And that they shal have instantly. 16 Great Alexander, &c.-These two lines are hexameters, that "halt ill on Roman feet," like those of Sydney mentioned by Pope. Into such verse Stanyhurst translated the four first Books of Virgil. S. 17 Cullion.-See Note 87. to Gammer Gurton's Needle, p. 125. 18 Gentlemen, &c.-This seems intended as a burlesque on the Epilogue to As you like it. Fer. Malevole ! Mal. [Out of his Chamber. Yaugh, god-a-man, what dost thou there? Duke's Ganymede, Juno's jealous of thy long stockings. Shadow of a woman, what would'st, weesel? thou lamb at court, what dost bleat for? ah, you smooth-chinned catamite! P. Jac. Come down, thou rugged cur, and snarl here: I give thy dogged sullenness free liberty: trot about and bespurtle whom thou pleas est. Mal. I'll cone among you, you goatish-blooded 19 toderers, as gum into taffata, to fret, to fret: I'll fall like a spunge into waters, to suck up, to suck up. Howl again. I'll go to church and come to you. P. Jac. This Malevole is one of the most prodigious affections that ever conversed with nature. A man, or rather a monster; more discontent than Lucifer when he was thrust out of the presence. His appetite is unsatiable as the grave; as far from any content as from heaven. His highest delight is to procure others vexation, and therein he thinks he truly serves heaven; for 'tis his position, whosoever in this earth can be contented is a slave and damned; therefore does he afflict all in that to which they are most affected. The elements struggle with him; his own soul is at variance within herself: his speech is halter-worthy at all hours. I like him, faith; he gives good intelligence to my spirit, makes me understand those weaknesses which others' flattery palliate. Hark! they sing. SCENE III. Enter MALEVOLE, after the Song. P. Jac. See, he comes. Now shall you hear the extremity of a malcontent: he is as free as air: he blows over every man; and—sir, whence come you now? Mal. From the public place of much dissimulation, the church. P. Jac. What did'st there? Mal. Talk with a usurer; take up at interest. P. Jac. And what do'st think makes most infidels now? Mal. Sects, sects. I have seen seeming piety change her robe so oft, that sure none but some arch-devil can shape her petticoat. P. Jac. Oh! a religious policy. Mal. But, damnation on a politic religion! I am weary; would I were one of the duke's hounds now. P. Jac. But what's the common news abroad, Malevole? thou dogg'st rumour still. Mal. Common news? why, common words are, God save ye, Fare ye well: common actions, flattery, and couzenage: common things, women, and cuckolds. And how does my little Ferrardo? Ah ye leacherous animal! my little ferret! he goes sucking up and down the palace into every hen's nest, like a weesel. And to what do'st thou addict thy time now, more than to those antique painted drabs that are still affected of young courtiers, flattery, pride, and venery? Fer. I study languages. Who do'st think to be the best linguist of our age? Mal. Phew! the devil; let him possess thee; he'll teach thee to speak all languages most readily and strangely; and great reason, marry, he's travelled greatly in the world, and is every where. Fer. Save i'the court. Mal. Ah, save i'the court. And how does my old muckhill, overspread with fresh snow? thou half a man, half a goat, all a beast, how does thy young wife, old 20 huddle? [To BILIOSO Bil. Out! you improvident rascal. Mal. Do, kick, thou hugely-horned old duke's ox, good Mr Make-peace. P. Jac. How do'st thou live now-a-days, Malevole? Mal. Why, like the knight St Patrick Penlolians, with killing o' spiders for my lady's monkey. P. Jac. How do'st spend the night? I hear thou never sleep'st. Mal. O no; but dream the most fantastical: O heaven! O fubbery, fubbery! P. Jac. Dream! what dream'st? Mal. Why, methinks I see that signior pawn his foot-cloth; that metreza 2 her plate: this madam takes physic; that t'other monsieur may minister to her: here is a pander jewelled; there is a fellow in shift of sattin this day, that could not shift a shirt t'other night here a Paris supports that Helen; there's 22 a lady Guinever bears up that 23 Sir Launcelot. Dreams, dreams, visions, fancies, chimeras, imaginations, tricks, conceits, [To PREPASSO.] Sir Tristram Trimtram, come aloft Jack-anapes with a whim-wham: here's a knight of the land of Catite shall play at trap with any page in Europe; do the sword-dance with any morrice-dancer in Christendom; ride at the ring, till the fin of his eyes look as blue as the 19 Toderers-I suppose this is a word coined from tod, a certain weight of sheeps' wool. He seems willing to intimate, that the duke, &c. are mutton-mongers. The meaning of laced mutton is well known. S. 20 Huddle-See Note 31 to Alexander and Campaspe, p. 148. P. 21 Metreza-i. e. mistress. S. 22 Lady Guinever-King Arthur's unfaithful queen. See Dr Percy's Reliques of Ancient Poetry, vol. III. 338. 23 Sir Launcelot-A celebrated hero of romance. welkin; and run the wild-goose chace even with | lame revenge? O God! for a woman to make a Pompey the huge. P. Jac. You run! Mal. To the devil. Now, signior Guerrino, that thou from a most pitied prisoner should grow a most loathed flatterer: alas! poor Celso, thy star's oppressed, thou art an honest lord; 'tis pity. Equ. Is't pity? Mal. Ay, marry is't, philosophical Equato; and 'tis pity that thou being so excellent a scholar by art, should'st be so ridiculous a fool by nature. I have a thing to tell you, duke; bid 'em avant, bid 'em avant. P. Juc. Leave us, leave us; now, sir, what is't? 24 Mal. Thou art a cuckold. P. Jac. Speak; unshell him quick. Duke, 'tis Mendozo cornutes thee. man that which God never created, never made! P. Jac. What did God never make? Mal. A cuckold. To be made a thing 'that's hood-winked with kindness, whilst every rascal fillips his brows; to have a cox-comb with egregious horns pinned to a lord's back, every page sporting himself with delightful laughter, whilst he must be the last must know it; pistols and poniards! pistols and poniards! P. Jac. Death and damnation! Mal. Lightning and thunder! P. Jac. Vengeance and torture! Mal. 26 Catzo! P. Jac. O revenge! Mal. Nay, to select among ten thousand fairs A lady far inferior to the most, In fair proportion both of limb and soul; P. Jac. What comformance? relate; short, Thinking none tells it but his private self; short. Mal. As a lawyer's beard, "There is an old 25 crone in the court, her name is Maquerelle, She is my mistress sooth to say, and she doth ever tell me." Blirt, a rhime; blirt, a rhime; Maquerelle is a cunning bawd. I am an honest villain; thy wife is a close drab, and thou art a notorious cuckold; farewell, duke. P. Jac. Stay, stay. To meet her spirit in a nimble kiss, Mal. Whilst she lisps, and gives him some court quelquechose, Made only to provoke, not satiate : Mal. Dull, dull, duke, can lazy patience make That forms the adulterer's presence in her soul, 24 Becco-A cuckold, Ital. S. So, in Massinger's Bondman, A. 2. S. 3: "Pass the rest; they'll all make "Sufficient becos, and with their brow-antlers "Bear up the cap of maintenance." 25 Crone-i. e. an old worn-out woman. A croan is an old toothless sheep; thence an old woman. See Mr Steevens's Note on Winter's Tale, A. 2. S. 3. Again, Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, 1. 4851 : "But it were only dame Custance alone, Ben Jonson's Poetaster, A. 3. S. 5: "— marry, let him alone With tempered poison to remove the croan." The Devil is an Ass, A. 2. S. 1: "No lace-woman, nor bawd, that brings French masks 26 Catzo!-I believe, in cant Italian, this word is obscenely used. S. This conjecture seems to be well founded. See Florio's Dictionary, 1598, voce cazzo, And makes her think she 27 clips the foul knave's | To poize my breath. loins. Mal. Yes, incest: mark; Mendozo of his wife begets perchance a daughter; Mendozo dies; his son marries this daughter. Say you? Nay, 'tis frequent, not only probable, but no question often acted, whilst ignorance, fearless ignorance, clasps his own seed. P. Jac. Hideous imagination! Mal. Adultery? why next to the sin of simony, 'tis the most horrid transgression under the cope of salvation. P. Jac. Next to simony! strikes, "For he that laughs and Is lightly felt, or seldom struck again.” Enter CELSO. Cel. My honoured lord! Mal. Peace, speak low ; peace, O Celso ! constant lord, Thou to whose faith I only rest discovered, 28 Mal. Ay, next to simony, in which our men in This Genoa's last year's duke. O truly noble ! next age shall not sin. I wanted those old instruments of state, Dissemblance, and 29 suspect: I could not time it, Celso ; P. Jue. Not sin? why? Mal. Because, thanks to some churchmen, our age will leave them nothing to sin with. But adultery! O dulness! shew such exemplary punishment, that intemperate bloods may freeze but to think it. I would damn him and all his generation! my own hands should do it; ha, I would not trust heaven with my vengeance any thing. P. Jac. Any thing, any thing, Malevole; thou shalt see instantly what temper my spirit holds Farewell, remember I forget thee not, farewell. [Exit PIETRO. Mal. Farewell. Lean thoughtfulness, a sallow meditation, Well, this disguise doth yet afford me that I may speak foolishly, ay, knavishly, My throne stood like a point in midst of a circle, For when the daughter of the Florentine Mal. Of all was quite bereft. Cel. I'll still adhere: let's mutiny and die.Mal. O no; climb not a falling tower, Celso;'Tis well held desperation, not zeal, 30 Hopeless to strive with fate; peace, temporize. 3o Hope, hope, that never forsakest the wretchedest man, Yet bid'st me live, and lurk in this disguise. What? play I well the free-breathed" discontent? 27 Clips-i. e. clasps, embraces. 28 Old Ops-The wife of Saturn, who deceived him by a stratagem relative to the preservation of Jupiter. S. 29 Suspect-i. e. suspicion. See Note 45 to Edward II. Vol. I. p. 182. 30 Hope, hope, &c. So Pope: "Hope springs eternal in the human breast; Man never is, but always to be blest." 31 Discontent-i. e. discontented person, as we now say malcontent. So, in The First Part of King Henry IV. A. 5. S. 1. "Of fickle changelings and poor discontents." See Mr Malone's Note on this passage. VOL. II. |