SCENE III.

_A Public Place._

_Enter_ COCLEDEMOY, _like a sergeant_.

_Coc._ So, I ha' lost my sergeant in an ecliptic mist, drunk! horrible drunk! he is fine. So now will I fit myself; I hope this habit will do me no harm; I am an honest man already. Fit, fit, fit, as a punk's tail, that serves everybody. By this time my vintner thinks of nothing but hell and sulphur; he farts fire and brimstone already. Hang toasts! the execution approacheth.

_Enter_ Sir LIONEL, Sir HUBERT; MALHEUREUX, _pinioned_; TYSEFEW, BEATRICE, FREEVILL, CRISPINELLA, FRANCESCHINA, _and halberds_.

_Mal._ I do not blush, although condemned by laws; No kind of death is shameful but the cause, Which I do know is none; and yet my lust 10 Hath made the one (although not cause) most just. May I not be reprieved? Freevill is but mislodg'd; Some lethargy hath seiz'd him--no, much malice; Do not lay blood upon your souls with good intents; Men may do ill, and law sometime repents.

[COCLEDEMOY _picks_ MALHEUREUX' _pocket of his purse_.

_Sir Lio._ Sir, sir, prepare; vain is all lewd defence.

_Mal._ Conscience was law, but now law's conscience. My endless peace is made; and to the poor,-- My purse, my purse!

_Coc._ Ay, sir; and it shall please you, the poor has your purse already. 21

_Mal._ You[109] are a wily[110] man. --But now, thou source of devils, oh, how I loathe The very memory of that I adored! He that's of fair blood, well mien'd, of good breeding, Best famed, of sweet acquaintance, and true friends, And would with desperate impudence lose all these, And hazard landing at this fatal shore,-- Let him ne'er kill, nor steal, but love a whore.

_Fra._ De man does rave; tinck a got, tinck a got, and bid de flesh, de world, and the dible, farewell. 31

_Mal._ Farewell!

_Free._ Farewell!

[FREEVILL _discovers himself_.

_Fra._ Vat ist you see?--Hah!

_Free._ Sir, your pardon, with my this defence: Do not forget protested violence Of your low affections: no requests, No arguments of reason, no known danger, No assured wicked bloodiness, Could draw your heart from this damnation. 40

_Mal._ Why, stay!

_Fra._ Unprosperous devil, vat sall me do now?

_Free._ Therefore, to force you from the truer danger, I wrought the feignèd; suffering this fair devil In shape of woman to make good her plot: And, knowing that the hook was deeply fast, I gave her line at will, till, with her own vain strivings, See here she's tired. O thou comely damnation! Dost think that vice is not to be withstood? O what is woman, merely made of blood! 50

_Sir Lio._ You maze us all; let us not be lost in darkness!

_Free._ All shall be lighted; but this time and place Forbids longer speech; only what you can think Has been extremely ill, is only hers.

_Sir Lio._ To severest prison with her! With what heart canst live-- What eyes behold a face?

_Fra._ Ick vil not speak; torture, torture your fill, For me am worse than hang'd; me ha' lost my will.

[_Exit_ FRANCESCHINA _with the guard_.

_Sir Lio._ To the extremest whip and jail.

_Free._ Frolic, how is it, sirs? 60

_Mal._ I am myself. How long was't ere I could Persuade my passion to grow calm to you! Rich sense makes good bad language, and a friend Should weigh no action, but the action's end. I am now worthy yours; when before The beast of man, loose blood, distemper'd us: He that lust rules cannot be virtuous.

_Enter_ MULLIGRUB, Mistress MULLIGRUB, _and Officers_.

_Off._ On afore there! room for the prisoners!

_Mul._ I pray you do not lead me to execution through Cheapside. I owe Master Burnish, the goldsmith, money, and I fear he'll set a sergeant on my back for it.

_Coc._ Trouble not your sconce, my Christian brothers, but have an eye unto the main chance. I will warrant your shoulders; as for your neck, _Plinius Secundus_, or _Marcus Tullius Cicero_, or somebody it is, says that a threefold cord is hardly broken. 75

_Mul._ Well, I am not the first honest man that hath been cast away; and I hope shall not be the last.

_Coc._ O, sir, have a good stomach and maws; you shall have a joyful supper.

_Mul._ In troth I have no stomach to it; and it please you, take my trencher; I use to fast at nights. 81

_Mistress Mul._ O husband! I little thought you should have come to think on God thus soon;[111] nay, and you had been hang'd deservedly it would never have grieved me; I have known of many honest innocent men have been hang'd deservedly: but to be cast away for nothing!

_Coc._ Good woman, hold your peace, your prittles and your prattles, your bibbles and your babbles; for I pray you hear me in private: I am a widower, and you are almost a widow; shall I be welcome to your houses, to your tables, and your other things? 92

_Mistress Mul._ I have a piece of mutton and a featherbed for you at all times; I pray make haste.

_Mul._ I do here make my confession: if I owe any man anything, I do heartily forgive him; if any man owe me anything, let him pay my wife.

_Coc._ I will look to your wife's payment, I warrant you.

_Mul._ And now, good yoke-fellow, leave thy poor Mulligrub. 101

_Mistress Mul._ Nay, then I were unkind; i'faith I will not leave you until I have seen you hang.

_Coc._ But brother,[112] brother, you must think of your sins and iniquities; you have been a broacher of profane vessels; you have made us drink of the juice of the whore of Babylon: for whereas good ale, perrys, bragots,[113] cyders, and metheglins, was the true ancient British and Troyan drinks, you ha' brought in Popish wines, Spanish wines, French wines, _tam Marti quam Mercurio_, both muscadine and malmsey, to the subversion, staggering, and sometimes overthrow of many a good Christian. You ha' been a great jumbler; O remember the sins of your nights! for your night works ha' been unsavoury in the taste of your customers. 115

_Mul._ I confess, I confess; and I forgive as I would be forgiven. Do you know one Cocledemoy?

_Coc._ O very well. Know him!--an honest man he is, and a comely; an upright dealer with his neighbours, and their wives speak good things of him. 120

_Mul._ Well, wheresoe'er he is, or whatsoe'er he is, I'll take it on my death he's the cause of my hanging. I heartily forgive him, and if he would come forth he might save me; for he only knows the why and the wherefore.

_Coc._ You do, from your hearts and midrifs and entrails, forgive him then? you will not let him rot in rusty irons, procure him to be hang'd in lousy linen without a song, and after he is dead piss on his grave?

_Mul._ That hard heart of mine has procured all this; but I forgive as I would be forgiven. 131

_Coc._ [_Discovering himself_] Hang toasts, my worshipful Mulligrub. Behold thy Cocledemoy, my fine vintner; my castrophomical fine boy; behold and see!

_Tyse._ Bliss o' the blessed, who would but look for two knaves here?

_Coc._ No knave, worshipful friend, no knave; for observe, honest Cocledemoy restores whatsoever he has got, to make you know that whatsoever he has done, has been only _euphoniæ gratia_--for wit's sake. I acquit this vintner, as he has acquitted me; all has been done for emphasis of wit, my fine boy, my worshipful friends.

_Tyse._ Go, you are a flatt'ring knave. 143

_Coc._ I am so; 'tis a good thriving trade; it comes forward better than the seven liberal sciences, or the nine cardinal virtues; which may well appear in this, you shall never have flattering knave turn courtier. And yet I have read of many courtiers that have turned flattering knaves.

_Sir Hub._ Was't even but so? why, then all's well. 150

_Mul._ I could even weep for joy.

_Mistress Mul._ I could weep too, but God knows for what!

_Tyse._ Here's another tack to be given--your son and daughter.

_Sir Hub._ Is't possible? heart, ay, all my heart; will you be joined here?

_Tyse._ Yes, faith, father; marriage and hanging are spun both in one hour.

_Coc._ Why, then, my worshipful good friends, I bid myself most heartily welcome to your merry nuptials and wanton jigga-joggies.--And now, my very fine Heliconian gallants, and you, my worshipful friends in the middle region, 164 If with content our hurtless mirth hath been, Let your pleased minds at our much care be seen;[114] For he shall find, that slights such trivial wit, 'Tis easier to reprove than better it. We scorn to fear, and yet we fear to swell; We do not hope 'tis best,--'tis all, if well. 170

[_Exeunt._

[109] Ed. 1. "Thou art."

[110] Old eds. "Welyman" and "wely-man."

[111] The reader will be reminded of Mistress Quickly's description of Falstaff's last moments:--"'How now, Sir John,' quoth I, 'what, man! be o' good cheer.' So a' cried out 'God, God, God!' three or four times. Now I to comfort him, bid him a' should not think of God; I hoped there was no need to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet."

[112] Old eds. "brothers, brothers."

[113] _Bragot_ was the name of a sort of mead, once popular in Wales and in the West of England. See Nares' _Glossary_, s. BRAGGET.

[114] Ed. 1. "as our much care _hath bin_." Ed. 2. "_as_ our much care be seene."

THE FAWN.

_Parasitaster, Or The Fawne, As It Hath Bene Divers times presented at the blacke Friars, by the Children of the Queenes Maiesties Reuels. Written by Iohn Marston. At London Printed by T. P. for W. C._ 1606. 4to.

_Parasitaster, Or The Fawne, As It Hath Bene Divers Times Presented at the blacke Friars, by the Children of the Queenes Maiesties Reuels, and since at Powles. Written by Iohn Marston. And now corrected of many faults, which by reason of the Author's absence, were let slip in the first edition. At London Printed by T. P. for W. C._ 1606. 4to.

STORY OF THE PLAY.

Hercules, the widowed Duke of Ferrara, is anxious that his son Tiberio should marry Dulcimel, daughter of Gonzago, Duke of Urbin; but, finding that he cannot persuade his son to marriage, he declares that he will himself marry Dulcimel. Tiberio is sent to the Court of Urbin to negotiate on his father's behalf. Hercules follows in disguise to watch the issue, and attaches himself (under the name of Faunus) to Tiberio's train at Urbin, where by adroit flattery he quickly gains the favour of Gonzago and the confidence of the courtiers. Dulcimel falls in love with Tiberio, and determines to make him her husband. She imposes on her father, Gonzago, a weak-minded lord with a boundless belief in his own wisdom, by a pretended discovery of Tiberio's love to her; and Gonzago, acting throughout under the impression that he is foiling Tiberio, becomes in the hands of his witty daughter the instrument by which her project is accomplished. Taxed by Gonzago with having made love to Dulcimel, Tiberio warmly denies the charge, but at length he perceives that the lady is making amorous advances, and his blood is fired. In the courtyard of the palace grew a plane-tree by which it was possible to ascend to the window of Dulcimel's bedchamber. Dulcimel informs her father that Tiberio intended to climb the plane-tree at night and enter her chamber, and that he had asked her to have a priest to be in readiness to conduct the marriage service. Gonzago upbraids Tiberio with his perfidy, and commands him to leave the court before the next morning. Tiberio asks for an explanation, and Gonzago then repeats what his daughter had said. Tiberio is not slow to avail himself of Dulcimel's invitation; he mounts the plane-tree, the priest is ready, and the marriage is consummated. Gonzago's chagrin is changed to satisfaction when Hercules, putting off his disguise, expresses his approval of the match.

Much of the play is devoted to an exposure of the faults and follies of Gonzago's courtiers. At the close of the fifth act there is holden a court of Cupid, at which the delinquents are arraigned.

_TO THE EQUAL READER._

I have ever more endeavoured to know myself, than to be known of others; and rather to be unpartially beloved of all, than factiously to be admired of a few; yet so powerfully have I been enticed with the delights of poetry, and (I must ingeniously[115] confess) above better desert so fortunate in the stage-pleasings, that (let my resolutions be never so fixed to call mine eyes into myself) I much fear that most lamentable death of him,

"Qui nimis notus omnibus, Ignotus moritur sibi."--_Seneca._[116]

But since the over-vehement pursuit of these delights hath been the sickness of my youth, and now is grown to be the vice of my firmer age--since to satisfy others, I neglect myself--let it be the courtesy of my peruser rather to pity my self-hindering labours than to malice[117] me; and let him be pleased to be my reader, and not my interpreter, since I would fain reserve that office in my own hands, it being my daily prayer:--"Absit[118] a jocorum nostrorum simplicitate malignus interpres."--_Martial._

If any shall wonder why I print a comedy, whose life rests much in the actor's voice, let such know that it cannot avoid publishing; let it therefore stand with good excuse that I have been my own setter out.

If any desire to understand the scope of my comedy, know it hath the same limits which Juvenal gives to his _Satires_:--

"Quicquid agunt homines, votum, timor, ira, voluptas, Gaudia, discursus, nostri farrago libelli est."--_Juvenal._

As for the factious malice and studied detractions of some few that tread in the same path with me, let all know I most easily neglect them, and (carelessly slumbering to their vicious endeavours) smile heartily at their self-hurting baseness. My bosom friend, good Epictetus, makes me easily to contemn all such men's malice: since other men's tongues are not within my teeth, why should I hope to govern them? For mine own interest for once, let this be printed,--that of men of my own addiction I love most, pity some, hate none; for let me truly say it, I once only loved myself, for loving them, and surely I shall ever rest so constant to my first affection, that let their ungentle combinings, discourteous whisperings, never so treacherously labour to undermine my unfenced reputation, I shall (as long as I have being) love the least of their graces, and only pity the greatest of their vices.

And now, to kill envy, know you, that affect to be the only minions of Phoebus, I am not so blushlessly ambitious as to hope to gain any the least supreme eminency among you; I affect not only the "'Euge' tuum et 'Belle!'"[119]--'tis not my fashion to think no writer virtuously confident that is not swellingly impudent; nor do I labour to be held the only spirit whose poems may be thought worthy to be kept in cedar[120] chests:--

"Heliconidasque pallidamque Pyrenen Illis relinquo quorum imagines lambunt Hederæ sequaces...."--_Persius._

He that pursues fame shall, for me, without any rival, have breath enough. I esteem felicity to be a more solid contentment; only let it be lawful for me, with unaffected modesty and full thought, to end boldly with that of Persius:--

"Ipse semipaganus Ad sacra vatum carmen affero nostrum."--_Persius._

JO. MARSTON.

[115] Ed. 3 (_i.e._, the 8vo of 1633) "ingenuously." I have retained the reading of the earlier eds., as _ingenious_ was commonly used in the sense of _ingenuous_ (Middleton, iv. 14, &c.)

[116] _Thyestes_, 402-3.

[117] See note, p. 40. [Transcriber's Note: Footnote [44]]

[118] From the prose preface to Martial's epigrams.

[119] Persius, _Sat._ i. l. 49.

[120] "Cedro digna locutus."--Persius, _Sat._ i. l. 42.

_TO THE READER._[121]

Reader, know I have perused this copy, to make some satisfaction for the first faulty impression; yet so urgent hath been my business that some errors have still passed, which thy discretion may amend. Comedies are writ to be spoken, not read; remember the life of these things consists in action; and for such courteous survey of my pen, I will present a tragedy[122] to you, which shall boldly abide the most curious perusal.

[121] This note is from the second 4to.

[122] "Sophonisba."--Marginal note in the second 4to.

PROLOGUS.

Let those once know that here with malice lurk, 'Tis base to be too wise in others' work; The rest sit thus saluted:-- Spectators, know you may, with freest faces, Behold this scene; for here no rude disgraces Shall taint a public or a private name; This pen at viler rate doth value fame, Than at the price of others' infamy To purchase it. Let others dare the rope, Your modest pleasure is our author's scope. 10 The hurdle and the rack to them he leaves That have naught left to be accompted any, But by not being; nor doth he hope to win Your louder hand with that most common sin Of vulgar pens, rank bawdry, that smells Even through your masks, _usque ad nauseam_. The Venus of this scene doth loathe to wear So vile, so common, so immodest clothings; But if the nimble form of comedy, Mere spectacle of life and public manners, 20 May gracefully arrive to your pleased ears, We boldly dare the utmost death of fears; For we do know that this most fair-fill'd room Is loaden with most attic judgments, ablest spirits, Than whom there are none more exact, full, strong, Yet none more soft, benign in censuring. I know there's not one ass in all this presence-- Not one calumnious rascal, or base villain Of emptiest merit--that would tax and slander, If innocency herself should write, not one we know't. 30 O you are all the very breath of Phoebus; In your pleas'd gracings all the true lifeblood Of our poor author lives,--you are his very grace. Now if that any wonder why he's drawn To such base soothings, know his play's--THE FAWN.[123]

[123] _Fawner_, sycophant.--A word coined by Marston.

_DRAMATIS PERSONÆ._

HERCULES, _Duke of Ferrara, disguised as_ FAUNUS. GONZAGO, _Duke of Urbin, a weak lord of a self-admiring wisdom_. TIBERIO, _son to_ HERCULES. GRANUFFO, _a silent lord_. Don ZUCCONE, _a causelessly jealous lord_. Sir AMOROSO DEBILE-DOSSO, _a sickly knight_. HEROD FRAPPATORE, _brother to_ Sir AMOROSO_._ NYMPHADORO, _a young courtier and a common lover_. DONDOLO, _a bald fool_. RENALDO, _brother to_ HERCULES.

DULCIMEL, _daughter to_ GONZAGO. PHILOCALIA, _an honourable learned lady, companion to the Princess_ DULCIMEL. Donna ZOYA, _a virtuous, fair, witty lady, wife to_ Don ZUCCONE. Donna GARBETZA, _wife to_ Sir AMOROSO. POVEIA, } DONNETTA, } _two ladies, attendants on_ DULCIMEL. PUTTOTTA, _a poor laundress of the court that washeth and diets footmen_. Pages.

SCENE--URBIN.

THE FAWN.