SCENE I.--_The Fair.
Booths, Stalls, a pair of Stocks, etc.
_Enter COKES, BRISTLE, HAGGISE, and POCHER, with OVERDO, followed by TROUBLEALL._
TRO. My masters, I do make no doubt, but you are officers.
BRI. What then, sir?
TRO. And the king's loving and obedient subjects.
BRI. Obedient, friend! take heed what you speak, I advise you; Oliver Bristle advises you. His loving subjects, we grant you; but not his obedient, at this time, by your leave; we know ourselves a little better than so; we are to command, sir, and such as you are to be obedient. Here's one of his obedient subjects going to the stocks; and we'll make you such another, if you talk.
TRO. You are all wise enough in your places, I know.
BRI. If you know it, sir, why do you bring it in question?
TRO. I question nothing, pardon me. I do only hope you have warrant for what you do, and so quit you, and so multiply you.
[_Exit._
HAG. What is he?--Bring him up to the stocks there. Why bring you him not up?
[_Overdo is brought forward._
_Re-enter TROUBLEALL._
TRO. If you have justice Overdo's warrant, 'tis well; you are safe: that is the warrant of warrants. I'll not give this button for any man's warrant else.
BRI. Like enough, sir; but let me tell you, an you play away your buttons thus, you will want them ere night, for any store I see about you; you might keep them, and save pins, I wuss.
[_Exit Troubleall._
OVER. What should he be, that doth so esteem and advance my warrant? he seems a sober and discreet person: It is a comfort to a good conscience to be followed with a good fame in his sufferings. The world will have a pretty taste by this, how I can bear adversity; and it will beget a kind of reverence towards me hereafter, even from mine enemies, when they shall see, I carry my calamity nobly, and that it doth neither break me, nor bend me. [_Aside._
HAG. Come, sir, here's a place for you to preach in. Will you put in your leg?
OVER. That I will, cheerfully.
[_They put him in the stocks._
BRI. O' my conscience, a seminary! he kisses the stocks.
COKES. Well, my masters, I'll leave him with you; now I see him bestowed, I'll go look for my goods, and Numps.
HAG. You may, sir, I warrant you; where's the t'other bawler? fetch him too, you shall find them both fast enough.
[_Exit Cokes._
OVER. In the midst of this tumult, I will yet be the author of mine own rest, and not minding their fury, sit in the stocks in that calm as shall be able to trouble a triumph. [_Aside._
_Re-enter TROUBLEALL._
TRO. Do you assure me upon your words? May I undertake for you, if I be asked the question, that you have this warrant?
HAG. What's this fellow, for God's sake?
TRO. Do but shew me Adam Overdo, and I am satisfied.
[_Exit._
BRI. He is a fellow that is distracted, they say; one Troubleall: he was an officer in the court of Pie-poudres here last year, and put out of his place by justice Overdo.
OVER. Ha! [_Aside._
BRI. Upon which he took an idle conceit, and is run mad upon't: so that ever since he will do nothing but by justice Overdo's warrant; he will not eat a crust, nor drink a little, nor make him in his apparel ready. His wife, sir-reverence, cannot get him make his water, or shift his shirt, without his warrant.
OVER. If this be true, this is my greatest disaster. How am I bound to satisfy this poor man, that is of so good a nature to me, out of his wits! where there is no room left for dissembling. [_Aside._
_Re-enter TROUBLEALL._
TRO. If you cannot shew me Adam Overdo, I am in doubt of you; I am afraid you cannot answer it.
[_Exit._
HAG. Before me, neighbour Bristle,--and now I think on't better,--justice Overdo is a very parantory person.
BRI. O, are you advised of that! and a severe justicer, by your leave.
OVER. Do I hear ill o' that side too? [_Aside._
BRI. He will sit as upright on the bench, an you mark him, as a candle in the socket, and give light to the whole court in every business.
HAG. But he will burn blue, and swell like a boil, God bless us, an he be angry.
BRI. Ay, and he will be angry too, when he lists, that's more; and when he is angry, be it right or wrong, he has the law on's side ever; I mark that too.
OVER. I will be more tender hereafter. I see compassion may become a justice, though it be a weakness, I confess, and nearer a vice than a virtue. [_Aside._
HAG. Well, take him out o' the stocks again; we'll go a sure way to work, we'll have the ace of hearts of our side, if we can.
[_They take Overdo out._
_Enter POCHER, and Officers with BUSY, followed by DAME PURECRAFT._
POCH. Come, bring him away to his fellow there.--Master Busy, we shall rule your legs, I hope, though we cannot rule your tongue.
BUSY. No, minister of darkness, no; thou canst not rule my tongue; my tongue it is mine own, and with it I will both knock and mock down your Bartholomew abominations, till you be made a hissing to the neighbouring parishes round about.
HAG. Let him alone, we have devised better upon't.
PURE. And shall he not into the stocks then?
BRI. No, mistress, we'll have them both to justice Overdo, and let him do over 'em as is fitting: then I, and my gossip Haggise, and my beadle Pocher, are discharged.
PURE. O, I thank you, blessed honest men!
BRI. Nay, never thank us; but thank this madman that comes here! he put it in our heads.
_Re-enter TROUBLEALL._
PURE. Is he mad? now heaven increase his madness, and bless it, and thank it.--Sir, your poor handmaid thanks you.
TRO. Have you a warrant? an you have a warrant, shew it.
PURE. Yes, I have a warrant out of the word, to give thanks for removing any scorn intended to the brethren.
[_Exeunt all but Troubleall._
TRO. It is justice Overdo's warrant that I look for; if you have not that, keep your word, I'll keep mine. Quit ye, and multiply ye.
_Enter EDGWORTH and NIGHTINGALE._
EDG. Come away, Nightingale, I pray thee.
TRO. Whither go you? where's your warrant?
EDG. Warrant! for what, sir?
TRO. For what you go about, you know how fit it is; an you have no warrant, bless you, I'll pray for you, that's all I can do.
[_Exit._
EDG. What means he?
NIGHT. A madman that haunts the Fair; do you not know him? It's marvel he has not more followers after his ragged heels.
EDG. Beshrew him, he startled me: I thought he had known of our plot. Guilt's a terrible thing. Have you prepared the costard-monger?
NIGHT. Yes, and agreed for his basket of pears; he is at the corner here, ready. And your prize, he comes down sailing that way all alone, without his protector; he is rid of him, it seems.
EDG. Ay, I know; I should have followed his protectorship, for a feat I am to do upon him: but this offered itself so in the way, I could not let scape: here he comes, whistle; be this sport call'd Dorring the Dotterel.
_Re-enter COKES._
NIGHT. Wh, wh, wh, wh, etc.
[_Whistles._
COKES. By this light, I cannot find my gingerbread wife, nor my hobby-horse man, in all the Fair now, to have my money again: and I do not know the way out on't, to go home for more. Do you hear, friend, you that whistle? what tune is that you whistle?
NIGHT. A new tune I am practising, sir.
COKES. Dost thou know where I dwell, I pray thee? nay, on with thy tune; I have no such haste for an answer: I'll practise with thee.
_Enter COSTARD-MONGER, with a basket of Pears._
COS. Buy any pears, very fine pears, pears fine!
[_Nightingale sets his foot afore him, and he falls with his basket._
COKES. Ods so! a muss, a muss, a muss, a muss!
[_Falls a scrambling for the pears._
COS. Good gentlemen, my ware, my ware; I am a poor man. Good sir, my ware.
NIGHT. Let me hold your sword, sir, it troubles you.
COKES. Do, and my cloke an thou wilt, and my hat too.
EDG. A delicate great boy! methinks he out-scrambles them all. I cannot persuade myself, but he goes to grammar-school yet, and plays the truant to-day.
NIGHT. Would he had another purse to cut, Zekiel.
EDG. Purse! a man might cut out his kidneys, I think, and he never feel 'em, he is so earnest at the sport.
NIGHT. His soul is half way out on's body at the game.
EDG. Away, Nightingale; that way.
[_Nightingale runs off with his sword, cloke, and hat._
COKES. I think I am furnish'd for cather'ne pears, for one under-meal: Give me my cloke.
COS. Good gentleman, give me my ware.
COKES. Where's the fellow I gave my cloke to? my cloke and my hat; ha! ods 'lid, is he gone? thieves, thieves! help me to cry, gentlemen.
[_Exit hastily._
EDG. Away, costard-monger, come to us to Ursula's.
[_Exit Costard-Monger._]
Talk of him to have a soul! 'heart, if he have any more than a thing given him instead of salt, only to keep him from stinking, I'll be hang'd afore my time, presently: where should it be, trow? in his blood? he has not so much toward it in his whole body as will maintain a good flea! and if he take this course, he will not have so much land left as to rear a calf, within this twelvemonth. Was there ever green plover so pull'd! that his little overseer had been here now, and been but tall enough to see him steal pears, in exchange for his beaver-hat and his cloke thus! I must go find him out next, for his black box, and his patent, it seems, he has of his place; which I think the gentleman would have a reversion of, that spoke to me for it so earnestly.
[_Exit._
_Re-enter COKES._
COKES. Would I might lose my doublet, and hose, too, as I am an honest man, and never stir, if I think there be any thing but thieving and cozening in this whole Fair. Bartholomew Fair, quoth he! an ever any Bartholomew had that luck in't that I have had, I'll be martyr'd for him, and in Smithfield too. I have paid for my pears, a rot on 'em! I'll keep them no longer; [_throws away his pears._] you were choke-pears to me: I had been better have gone to mum-chance for you, I wuss. Methinks the Fair should not have used me thus, an 'twere but for my name's-sake; I would not have used a dog o' the name so. O, Numps will triumph now!--
_Enter TROUBLEALL._
Friend, do you know who I am, or where I lie? I do not myself, I'll be sworn. Do but carry me home, and I'll please thee; I have money enough there. I have lost myself, and my cloke, and my hat, and my fine sword, and my sister, and Numps, and mistress Grace, a gentlewoman that I should have married, and a cut-work handkerchief she gave me, and two purses, to-day; and my bargain of hobby-horses and gingerbread, which grieves me worst of all.
TRO. By whose warrant, sir, have you done all this?
COKES. Warrant! thou art a wise fellow indeed: as if a man need a warrant to lose any thing with.
TRO. Yes, justice Overdo's warrant, a man may get and lose with, I'll stand to't.
COKES. Justice Overdo! dost thou know him? I lie there, he is my brother-in-law, he married my sister: pray thee shew me the way; dost thou know the house?
TRO. Sir, shew me your warrant: I know nothing without a warrant, pardon me.
COKES. Why, I warrant thee; come along: thou shalt see I have wrought pillows there, and cambric sheets, and sweet bags too. Pray thee guide me to the house.
TRO. Sir, I'll tell you; go you thither yourself first alone, tell your worshipful brother your mind, and but bring me three lines of his hand, or his clerk's, with Adam Overdo underneath, (here I'll stay you,) I'll obey you, and I'll guide you presently.
COKES. 'Slid, this is an ass, I have found him: pox upon me, what do I talking to such a dull fool! farewell! you are a very coxcomb, do you hear?
TRO. I think I am; if justice Overdo sign to it, I am, and so we are all: he'll quit us all, multiply us all.
[_Exeunt._