SCENE I.[3144

_Enter_ Merchant [VENTUREWELL].

_Vent._ I will have no great store of company at the wedding; a couple of neighbours and their wives; and we will have a capon in stewed broth, with marrow, and a good piece of beef stuck with rosemary. 5

_Enter_ JASPER, _his face mealed_.

_Jasp._ Forbear thy pains, fond[3145] man! it is too late.

_Vent._ Heaven bless me! Jasper!

_Jasp._ Ay, I am his ghost, Whom thou hast injur’d for his constant love, Fond worldly wretch! who dost not understand In death that true hearts cannot parted be. 10 First know, thy daughter is quite borne away On wings of angels, through the liquid air, To far out of thy reach, and never more Shalt thou behold her face: but she and I Will in another world enjoy our loves; 15 Where neither father’s anger, poverty, Nor any cross that troubles earthly men, Shall make us sever our united hearts. And never shalt thou sit or be alone In any place, but I will visit thee 20 With ghastly looks, and put into thy mind The great offences which thou didst to me. When thou art at thy table with thy friends, Merry in heart, and fill’d with swelling wine, I’ll come in midst of all thy pride and mirth, 25 Invisible to all men but thyself, And whisper such a sad tale in thine ear Shall make thee let the cup fall from thy hand, And stand as mute and pale as death itself.

_Vent._ Forgive me, Jasper! Oh, what might I do, 30 Tell me, to satisfy thy troubled ghost?

_Jasp._ There is no means; too late thou think’st of this.

_Vent._ But tell me what were best for me to do?

_Jasp._ Repent thy deed, and satisfy my father, And beat fond Humphrey out of thy doors. _Exit._ 35

_Wife._ Look, George; his very ghost would have folks beaten.

_Enter_ HUMPHREY.

_Hum._ Father, my bride is gone, fair Mistress Luce: My soul’s the fount of vengeance, mischief’s sluice.

_Vent._ Hence, fool, out of my sight with thy fond passion! 40 Thou hast undone me. [_Beats him._]

_Hum._ Hold, my father dear, For Luce thy daughter’s sake, that had no peer!

_Vent._ Thy father, fool! There’s some blows more; begone.— [_Beats him._] Jasper, I hope thy ghost be well appeas’d To see thy will perform’d. Now will I go 45 To satisfy thy father for thy wrongs. _Exit._

_Hum._ What shall I do? I have been beaten twice, And Mistress Luce is gone. Help me, device! Since my true love is gone, I never more, Whilst I do live, upon the sky will pore; 50 But in the dark will wear out my shoe-soles In passion[3146] in Saint Faith’s church under Paul’s. _Exit._

_Wife._ George, call Ralph hither; if you love me, call Ralph hither: I have the bravest thing for him to do, George: prithee, call him quickly.

_Cit._ Ralph! why, Ralph, boy! 56

_Enter_ RALPH.

_Ralph._ Here, sir.

_Cit._ Come hither, Ralph; come to thy mistress, boy.

_Wife._ Ralph, I would have thee call all (60) the youths together in battle-ray, with drums, and guns, and flags, and march to Mile-End in pompous[3147] fashion, and there exhort your soldiers to be merry and wise, and to keep their beards from burning, Ralph; and then 65 skirmish, and let your flags fly, and cry, “Kill, kill, kill!” My husband shall lend you his jerkin, Ralph, and there ’s a scarf; for the rest, the house shall furnish you, and we’ll pay for ’t. Do it bravely, Ralph; and think before (70) whom you perform, and what person you represent.

_Ralph._ I warrant you, mistress; if I do it not for the honour of the city and the credit of my master, let me never hope for 75 freedom![3148]

_Wife._ ’Tis well spoken, i’ faith. Go thy ways; thou art a spark indeed.

_Cit._ Ralph, Ralph, double your files bravely, Ralph! 80

_Ralph._ I warrant you, sir. _Exit._

_Cit._ Let him look narrowly to his service; I shall take him else. I was there myself a pikeman once, in the hottest of the day, wench; had my feather shot sheer away, the fringe of my pike burnt off with powder, my pate (86) broken with a scouring-stick,[3149] and yet, I thank God, I am here. _Drum within._

_Wife._ Hark, George, the drums!

_Cit._ Ran, tan, tan, tan; ran, tan! Oh, wench, an thou hadst but seen little Ned of Aldgate, (91) Drum Ned, how he made it roar again, and laid on like a tyrant, and then struck softly till the ward[3150] came up, and then thund’red again, and together we go! “Sa, sa, sa, bounce!” (95) quoth the guns; “Courage, my hearts!” quoth the captains; “Saint George!” quoth the pikemen; and withal, here they lay, and there they lay: and yet for all this I am here, wench. 100

_Wife._ Be thankful for it, George; for indeed ’t is wonderful.

[SCENE II.][3151]

_Enter_ RALPH _and Company of_ Soldiers (_among whom are_ WILLIAM HAMMERTON, _and_ GEORGE GREENGOOSE), _with drums and colours_.

_Ralph._ March fair, my hearts! Lieutenant, beat the rear up.—Ancient,[3152] let your colours fly; but have a great care of the butchers’ hooks at Whitechapel; they have been the death of many a fair ancient.—Open your (5) files, that I may take a view both of your persons and munition.—Sergeant, call a muster.

_Serg._ A stand!—William Hammerton, pewterer!

_Ham._ Here, captain! 10

_Ralph._ A corselet and a Spanish pike; ’t is well: can you shake it with a terror?

_Ham._ I hope so, captain.

_Ralph._ Charge upon me. [_He charges on_ RALPH.]—’T is with the weakest: put more (15) strength, William Hammerton, more strength. As you were again!—Proceed, Sergeant.

_Serg._ George Greengoose, poulterer!

_Green._ Here!

_Ralph._ Let me see your piece,[3153] neighbour (20) Greengoose: when was she shot in?

_Green._ An’t like you, master captain, I made a shot even now, partly to scour her, and partly for audacity.

_Ralph._ It should seem so certainly, for her (25) breath is yet inflamed; besides, there is a main[3154] fault in the touch-hole, it runs and stinketh; and I tell you moreover, and believe it, ten such touch-holes would breed the pox in the army. Get you a feather, neighbour, get you (30) a feather, sweet oil, and paper, and your piece may do well enough yet. Where’s your powder?

_Green._ Here.

_Ralph._ What, in a paper! As I am a soldier and a gentleman, it craves a martial court! (35) You ought to die for ’t. Where ’s your horn? Answer me to that.

_Green._ An ’t like you, sir, I was oblivious.

_Ralph._ It likes me not you should be so; ’t is a shame for you, and a scandal to all our (40) neighbours, being a man of worth and estimation, to leave your horn behind you: I am afraid ’t will breed example. But let me tell you no more on ’t.—Stand, till I view you all. What ’s become o’ th’ nose of your flask? 45

_1 Sold._ Indeed, la, captain, ’t was blown away with powder.

_Ralph._ Put on a new one at the city’s charge.—Where’s the stone[3155] of this piece?

_2 Sold._ The drummer took it out to light (50) tobacco.

_Ralph._ ’T is a fault, my friend; put it in again.—You want a nose,—and you a stone.—Sergeant, take a note on ’t, for I mean to stop it in the pay.—Remove, and march! [_They (55) march._] Soft and fair, gentlemen, soft and fair! Double your files! As you were! Faces about! Now, you with the sodden[3156] face, keep in there! Look to your match, sirrah, it will be in your fellow’s flask anon. So; make a crescent now: (60) advance your pikes: stand and give ear!—Gentlemen, countrymen, friends, and my fellow-soldiers, I have brought you this day, from the shops of security and the counters of content, to measure out in these furious fields honour by (65) the ell, and prowess by the pound. Let it not, oh, let it not, I say, be told hereafter, the noble issue of this city fainted; but bear yourselves in this fair action like men, valiant men, and free men! Fear not the face of the enemy, (70) nor the noise of the guns, for, believe me, brethren, the rude rumbling of a brewer’s car is far more terrible, of which you have a daily experience; neither let the stink of powder offend you, since a more valiant stink is nightly with you. 76 To a resolved mind his home is every-where: I speak not this to take away The hope of your return; for you shall see (I do not doubt it) and that very shortly 80 Your loving wives again and your sweet children, Whose care doth bear you company in baskets. Remember, then, whose cause you have in hand, And, like a sort[3157] of true-born scavengers, Scour me this famous realm of enemies. 85 I have no more to say but this: stand to your tacklings,[3158] lads, and show to the world you can as well brandish a sword as shake an apron. Saint George, and on, my hearts!

_All._ Saint George, Saint George! _Exeunt._ 90

_Wife._ ’T was well done, Ralph! I’ll send thee a cold capon a-field and a bottle of March beer; and, it may be, come myself to see thee.

_Cit._ Nell, the boy has deceived me much; I did not think it had been in him. He has (95) performed such a matter, wench, that, if I live, next year I’ll have him captain of the galley-foist[3159] or I’ll want my will.

[SCENE III.][3160]

_Enter_ MERRYTHOUGHT.

_Mer._ Yet, I thank God. I break not a wrinkle more than I had. Not a stoop,[3161] boys? Care, live with cats; I defy thee! My heart is as sound as an oak; and though I want drink to wet my whistle, I can sing; [_Sings._] 5 Come no more there, boys, come no more there; For we shall never whilst we live come any more there.

_Enter_ Boy, [_and two_ Men] _with a Coffin_.

_Boy._ God save you, sir!

_Mer._ It’s a brave boy. Canst thou sing?

_Boy._ Yes, sir, I can sing; but ’t is not so (10) necessary at this time.

_Mer._ [_sings._] Sing we, and chant it; Whilst love doth grant it.

_Boy._ Sir, sir, if you knew what I have brought you, you would have little list to (15) sing.

_Mer._ [_sings._] Oh, the Mimon round, Full long, long I have thee sought, And now I have thee found, And what hast thou here brought? 20

_Boy._ A coffin, sir, and your dead son Jasper in it. [_Exit with_ Men.]

_Mer._ Dead! [_Sings._] Why, farewell he! Thou wast a bonny boy, 25 And I did love thee.

_Enter_ JASPER.

_Jasp._ Then, I pray you, sir, do so still.

_Mer._ Jasper’s ghost! [_Sings._] Thou art welcome from Stygian lake so soon; Declare to me what wondrous things in Pluto’s court are done. 30

_Jasp._ By my troth, sir, I ne’er came there; ’t is too hot for me, sir.

_Mer._ A merry ghost, a very merry ghost! [_Sings._] And where is your true love? Oh, where is yours?

_Jasp._ Marry, look you, sir! _Heaves up coffin._ 35

_Mer._ Ah, ha! art thou good at that, i’ faith? [_Sings._] With hey, trixy, terlery-whiskin, The world it runs on wheels: When the young man’s——-,[3162] Up goes the maiden’s heels. 40

MRS. MERRYTHOUGHT _and_ MICHAEL _within_.

_Mist. Mer._ [_within._] What, Master Merrythought! will you not let ’s in? What do you think shall become of us?

_Mer._ [_Sings._] What voice is that, that calleth at our door.

_Mist. Mer._ [_within._] You know me well (45) enough; I am sure I have not been such a stranger to you.

_Mer._ [_sings._] And some they whistled, and some they sung, Hey, down, down! And some did loudly say, 50 Ever as the Lord Barnet’s born blew, Away, Musgrave, away!

_Mist. Mer._ [_within._] You will not have us starve here, will you, Master Merrythought?

_Jasp._ Nay, good sir, be persuaded; she is my mother. 55 If her offences have been great against you, Let your own love remember she is yours, And so forgive her.

_Luce._ Good Master Merrythought, Let me entreat you; I will not be denied.

_Mist. Mer._ [_within._] Why, Master Merrythought, (60) will you be a vext thing still?

_Mer._ Woman, I take you to my love again; but you shall sing before you enter; therefore despatch your song and so come in.

_Mist. Mer._ [_within._] Well, you must have (65) your will, when all’s done.—Mick, what song canst thou sing, boy?

_Mich._ [_within._] I can sing none, forsooth, but _A Lady’s Daughter, of Paris properly_.

_Mist. Mer._ [_Song._] It was a lady’s daughter, &c. 70

[MERRYTHOUGHT _opens the Door_; _enter_ MISTRESS MERRYTHOUGHT _and_ MICHAEL.]

_Mer._ Come, you’re welcome home again. [_Sings._] If such danger be in playing, And jest must to earnest turn, You shall go no more a-maying—

_Vent._ (_within._) Are you within, sir? Master (75) Merrythought!

_Jasp._ It is my master’s voice! Good sir, go hold him In talk, whilst we convey ourselves into Some inward room. [_Exit with_ LUCE.]

_Mer._ What are you? Are you merry? You must be very merry, if you enter. 80

_Vent._ [_within._] I am, sir.

_Mer._ Sing, then.

_Vent._ [_within._] Nay, good sir, open to me.

_Mer._ Sing, I say, or, by the merry heart, you come not in! 85

_Vent._ [_within._] Well, sir, I’ll sing. [_Sings._] Fortune, my foe, &c.

[MERRYTHOUGHT _opens the Door_: _Enter_ VENTUREWELL.]

_Mer._ You are welcome, sir, you are welcome: you see your entertainment; pray you, be merry. 90

_Vent._ Oh, Master Merrythought, I’m come to ask you Forgiveness for the wrongs I offered you And your most virtuous son! They’re infinite; Yet my contrition shall be more than they: I do confess my hardness broke his heart, 95 For which just Heaven hath given me punishment More than my age can carry. His wand’ring spirit, Not yet at rest, pursues me every where, Crying, “I’ll haunt thee for thy cruelty.” My daughter, she is gone, I know not how, 100 Taken invisible, and whether living Or in [the] grave, ’tis yet uncertain to me. Oh, Master Merrythought, these are the weights Will sink me to my grave! Forgive me, sir.

_Mer._ Why, sir, I do forgive you; and be merry, 105 And if the wag in ’s lifetime play’d the knave, Can you forgive him too?

_Vent._ With all my heart, sir.

_Mer._ Speak it again, and heartly.

_Vent._ I do, sir; Now, by my soul, I do.

_Re-enter_ LUCE _and_ JASPER.

_Mer._ [_sings._] With that came out his paramour; 110 She was as white as the lily flower; Hey, troul, troly, jolly! With that came out her own dear knight, He was as true as ever did fight, &c. Sir, if you will forgive him, clap their hands (115) together; there’s no more to be said i’ th’ matter.

_Vent._ I do, I do.

_Cit._ I do not like this. Peace, boys! Hear me, one of you! Every body’s part is come to an end but Ralph’s, and he’s left out. 121

_Boy._ ’Tis ’long of yourself, sir; we have nothing to do with his part.

_Cit._ Ralph, come away!—Make [an end][3163] on him, as you have done of the rest, boys; come. 126

_Wife._ Now, good husband, let him come out and die.

_Cit._ He shall, Nell.—Ralph, come away quickly, and die, boy! 130

_Boy._ ’T will be very unfit he should die, sir, upon no occasion—and in a comedy too.

_Cit._ Take you no care of that, sir boy; is not his part at an end, think you, when he’s dead?—Come away, Ralph! 135

_Enter_ RALPH, _with a forked Arrow through his Head_.

_Ralph._ When I was mortal, this my costive corps Did lap up figs and raisins in the Strand; Where sitting, I espi’d a lovely dame, Whose master wrought with lingel[3164] and with awl, And underground he vamped many a hoot, 140 Straight did her love prick forth me, tender sprig, To follow feats of arms in warlike wise Through Waltham-desert; where I did perform Many achievements, and did lay on ground Huge Barbaroso, that insulting giant, 145 And all his captives soon set at liberty. Then honour prickt me from my native soil Into Moldavia, where I gain’d the love Of Pompiona, his beloved daughter; But yet prov’d constant to the black thumb’d maid 150 Susan, and scorned Pompiona’s love; Yet liberal I was, and gave her pins, And money for her father’s officers. I then returned home, and thrust myself In action, and by all men chosen was 155 Lord of the May, where I did flourish it, With scarfs and rings, and posy in my hand. After this action I preferred was, And chosen city-captain at Mile-End, 159 With hat and feather, and with leading-staff,[3165] And train’d my men, and brought them all off clear, Save one man that beray’d him[3166] with the noise. But all these things I Ralph did undertake Only for my beloved Susan’s sake. Then coming home, and sitting in my shop 165 With apron blue, Death came into my stall To cheapen[3167] _aqua vitae_; but ere I Could take the bottle down and fill a taste, Death caught a pound of pepper in his hand, And sprinkled all my face and body o’er, 170 And in an instant vanished away.

_Cit._ ’T is a pretty fiction, i’ faith.

_Ralph._ Then took I up my bow and shaft in hand, And walkt into Moorfields to cool myself; But there grim cruel Death met me again, 175 And shot this forked arrow through my head; And now I faint; therefore be warn’d by me, My fellows every one, of forked heads! Farewell, all you good boys in merry London! Ne’er shall we more upon Shrove-Tuesday meet, 180 And pluck down houses of iniquity;[3168]— My pain increaseth—I shall never more Hold open, whilst another pumps both legs, Nor daub a satin gown with rotten eggs, Set up a stake, oh, never more I shall! 185 I die! fly, fly, my soul, to Grocers’ Hall! Oh, oh, oh, &c.[3169]

_Wife._ Well said, Ralph! do your obeisance to the gentlemen, and go your ways: well said, Ralph! 190 RALPH [_rises_, _makes obeisance and_] _exit_.

_Mer._ Methinks all we, thus kindly and unexpectedly reconciled, should not depart[3170] without a song.

_Vent._ A good motion.

_Mer._ Strike up, then! 195 SONG. Better music ne’er was known Than a choir of hearts in one. Let each other, that hath been Troubled with the gall or spleen, Learn of us to keep his brow 200 Smooth and plain, as ours are now: Sing, though before the hour of dying; He shall rise, and then be crying, “Hey, ho, ’t is nought but mirth That keeps the body from the earth!” _Exeunt._ 205

EPILOGUS.

_Cit._ Come, Nell, shall we go? The play ’s done.

_Wife._ Nay, by my faith, George, I have more manners than so; I ’ll speak to these gentlemen first.—I thank you all, gentlemen, for (210) your patience and countenance to Ralph, a poor fatherless child; and if I might see you at my house, it should go hard but I would have a pottle of wine and a pipe of tobacco for you: for, truly, I hope you do like the youth, but (215) I would be glad to know the truth; I refer it to your own discretions, whether you will applaud him or no; for I will wink, and whilst[3171] you shall do what you will. I thank you with all my heart. God give you good night!—Come, (220) George. [_Exeunt._]

PHILASTER; OR LOVE LIES A-BLEEDING

BY FRANCIS BEAUMONT AND JOHN FLETCHER

[DRAMATIS PERSONAE

THE KING OF SICILY. PHILASTER, Heir to the Crown. PHARAMOND, Prince of Spain. DION, a Lord. CLEREMONT, } Noble Gentlemen, THRASILINE, } his associates. An Old Captain. Five Citizens. A Country Fellow. Two Woodmen. The King’s Guard and Train.

ARETHUSA, Daughter of the King. EUPHRASIA, Daughter of Dion, but disguised like a Page and called BELLARIO. MEGRA, a lascivious Lady. GALATEA, a wise, modest Lady attending the Princess. Two other Ladies.

SCENE.—_Sicily._][3172]