SCENE II.

_An inn-yard._

_Enter a_ Coachman _in haste, in his frock, feeding_.

_Co._ Here's a stir when citizens ride out of town, indeed as if all the house were a-fire! 'Slight! they will not give a man leave to eat's breakfast afore he rises.

_Enter_ HAMLET, _a footman, in haste_.

_Ha._ What, coachman--my lady's coach! for shame! her ladyship's ready to come down.

_Enter_ POTKIN, _a tankard-bearer_.

_Po._ 'Sfoot! Hamlet, are you mad?[55] Whither run you now? you should brush up my old mistress!

_Enter_ SINDEFY.

_Si._ What, Potkin?--you must put off your tankard and put on your blue coat,[56] and wait upon Mistress Touchstone into the country.

[_Exit._

_Po._ I will, forsooth, presently.

[_Exit._

_Enter_ Mistress FOND _and_ Mistress GAZER.

_Fo._ Come, sweet Mistress Gazer, let's watch here, and see my Lady Flash take coach. 13

_Ga._ O' my word here's a most fine place to stand in; did you see the new ship launched last day, Mistress Fond?

_Fo._ O God! and we citizens should lose such a sight!

_Ga._ I warrant here will be double as many people to see her take coach as there were to see it take water.

_Fo._ O she's married to a most fine castle i' th' country, they say. 21

_Ga._ But there are no giants in the castle, are there?

_Fo._ O no: they say her knight killed 'hem all, and therefore he was knighted.

_Ga._ Would to God her ladyship would come away!

_Enter_ GERTRUDE, Mistress TOUCHSTONE, SINDEFY, HAMLET, POTKIN.

_Fo._ She comes, she comes, she comes!

_Ga._ } Pray heaven bless your ladyship! _Fo._ }

_Ge._ Thank you, good people. My coach, for the love of heaven, my coach! In good truth I shall swoon else.

_Ha._ Coach, coach, my lady's coach!

[_Exit._

_Ge._ As I am a lady, I think I am with child already, I long for a coach so. May one be with child afore they are married, mother? 33

_Mist. T._ Ay, by'r lady, madam; a little thing does that; I have seen a little prick no bigger than a pin's head swell bigger and bigger, till it has come to an ancome;[57] and e'en so 'tis in these cases.

_Enter_ HAMLET.

_Ha._ Your coach is coming, madam.

_Ge._ That's well said. Now, heaven! methinks I am e'en up to the knees in preferment. 40 _But a little higher, but a little higher, but a little higher, There, there, there lies Cupid's fire!_

_Mist. T._ But must this young man, an't please you, madam, run by your coach all the way a-foot?

_Ge._ Ay, by my faith, I warrant him; he gives no other milk, as I have another servant does.

_Mist. T._ Alas! 'tis e'en pity, methinks; for God's sake, madam, buy him but a hobby-horse; let the poor youth have something betwixt his legs to ease 'hem. Alas! we must do as we would be done to. 50

_Ge._ Go to, hold your peace, dame; you talk like an old fool, I tell you!

_Enter_ Sir PETRONEL _and_ QUICKSILVER.

_Pe._ Wilt thou be gone, sweet honey-suckle, before I can go with thee?

_Ge._ I pray thee, sweet knight, let me; I do so long to dress up thy castle afore thou comest. But I marle how my modest sister occupies herself this morning, that she cannot wait on me to my coach, as well as her mother.

_Qu._ Marry, madam, she's married by this time to prentice Golding. Your father, and some one more, stole to church with 'hem in all the haste, that the cold meat left at your wedding might serve to furnish their nuptial table. 63

_Ge._ There's no base fellow, my father, now; but he's e'en fit to father such a daughter: he must call me daughter no more now: but "madam," and "please you, madam;" and "please your worship, madam," indeed. Out upon him! marry his daughter to a base prentice!

_Mist. T._ What should one do? Is there no law for one that marries a woman's daughter against her will? How shall we punish him, madam? 71

_Ge._ As I am a lady, an't would snow, we'd so pebble 'hem with snow-balls as they come from church; but, sirrah Frank Quicksilver.

_Qu._ Ay, madam.

_Ge._ Dost remember since thou and I clapt what-d'ye-call'ts in the garret?

_Qu._ I know not what you mean, madam.

_Ge._ _His_[58] _head as white as milk, all flaxen was his hair;_ _But now he is dead, and laid in his bed,_ 80 _And never will come again._ God be at your labour!

_Enter_ TOUCHSTONE, GOLDING, MILDRED, _with rosemary_.[59]

_Pe._ Was there ever such a lady?

_Qu._ See, madam, the bride and bridegroom!

_Ge._ God's my precious! God give you joy, mistress. What lack you? Now out upon thee, baggage! My sister married in a taffeta hat! Marry, hang you! Westward with a wanion[60] t'ye! Nay, I have done wi' ye, minion, then, i'faith; never look to have my countenance any more, nor anything I can do for thee. Thou ride in my coach, or come down to my castle! fie upon thee! I charge thee in my ladyship's name, call me sister no more. 93

_To._ An't please your worship, this is not your sister: this is my daughter, and she calls me father, and so does not your ladyship, an't please your worship, madam.

_Mist. T._ No, nor she must not call thee father by heraldry, because thou makest thy prentice thy son as well as she. Ah! thou misproud prentice, darest thou presume to marry a lady's sister? 100

_Go._ It pleased my master, forsooth, to embolden me with his favour; and though I confess myself far unworthy so worthy a wife (being in part her servant, as I am your prentice) yet (since I may say it without boasting) I am born a gentleman, and by the trade I have learned of my master (which I trust taints not my blood), able, with mine own industry and portion, to maintain your daughter, my hope is, heaven will so bless our humble beginning, that in the end I shall be no disgrace to the grace with which my master has bound me his double prentice. 111

_To._ Master me no more, son, if thou think'st me worthy to be thy father.

_Ge._ Son! Now, good Lord, how he shines! and you mark him, he's a gentleman!

_Go._ Ay, indeed, madam, a gentleman born.

_Pe._ Never stand o' your gentry, Master Bridegroom; if your legs be no better than your arms, you'll be able to stand upright on neither shortly. 119

_To._ An't please your good worship, sir, there are two sorts of gentlemen.

_Pe._ What mean you, sir?

_To._ Bold to put off my hat to your worship----

_Pe._ Nay, pray forbear, sir, and then forth with your two sorts of gentlemen.

_To._ If your worship will have it so, I say there are two sorts of gentlemen. There is a gentleman artificial, and a gentleman natural. Now though your worship be a gentleman natural: work upon that now. 129

_Qu._ Well said, old Touchstone; I am proud to hear thee enter a set speech, i'faith; forth, I beseech thee.

_To._ Cry your mercy, sir, your worship's a gentleman I do not know. If you be one of my acquaintance, y'are very much disguised, sir.

_Qu._ Go to, old quipper; forth with thy speech, I say. 137

_To._ What, sir, my speeches were ever in vain to your gracious worship; and therefore, till I speak to you gallantry indeed, I will save my breath for my broth anon. Come, my poor son and daughter, let us hide ourselves in our poor humility, and live safe. Ambition consumes itself with the very show. Work upon that now.

_Ge._ Let him go, let him go, for God's sake! let him make his prentice his son, for God's sake! give away his daughter, for God's sake! and when they come a-begging to us for God's sake, let's laugh at their good husbandry for God's sake. Farewell, sweet knight, pray thee make haste after. 149

_Pe._ What shall I say?--I would not have thee go.

_Qu._ _Now,_[61] _O now, I must depart, _Parting though it absence move._ This ditty, knight, do I see in thy looks in capital letters. _What a grief 'tis to depart, and leave the flower that has my heart!_ _My sweet lady, and alack for woe, why, should we part so?_ Tell truth, knight, and shame all dissembling lovers; does not your pain lie on that side? 158

_Pe._ If it do, canst thou tell me how I may cure it?

_Qu._ Excellent easily. Divide yourself in two halves, just by the girdlestead; send one half with your lady, and keep t'other yourself; or else do as all true lovers do--part with your heart, and leave your body behind. I have seen't done a hundred times: 'tis as easy a matter for a lover to part without a heart from his sweetheart, and he ne'er the worse, as for a mouse to get from a trap and leave her [_sic_] tail behind him. See, here comes the writings. 168

_Enter_ SECURITY _with a_ Scrivener.

_Sec._ Good morrow to my worshipful lady. I present your ladyship with this writing, to which if you please to set your hand with your knight's, a velvet gown shall attend your journey, o' my credit.

_Ge._ What writing is it, knight?

_Pe._ The sale, sweetheart, of the poor tenement I told thee of, only to make a little money to send thee down furniture for my castle, to which my hand shall lead thee.

_Ge._ Very well. Now give me your pen, I pray.

_Qu._ It goes down without chewing, i'faith.

_Scr._ Your worships deliver this as your deed? 180

_Ambo._ We do.

_Ge._ So now, knight, farewell till I see thee.

_Pe._ All farewell to my sweetheart!

_Mist. T._ God-b'w'y', son knight.

_Pe._ Farewell, my good mother.

_Ge._ Farewell, Frank; I would fain take thee down if I could.

_Qu._ I thank your good ladyship; farewell, Mistress Sindefy.

[_Exeunt._

_Pe._ O tedious voyage, whereof there is no end! What will they think of me? 191

_Qu._ Think what they list. They longed for a vagary into the country, and now they are fitted. So a woman marry to ride in a coach, she cares not if she ride to her ruin. 'Tis the great end of many of their marriages. This is not the first time a lady has rid a false journey in her coach, I hope.

_Pe._ Nay, 'tis no matter, I care little what they think; he that weighs men's thoughts has his hands full of nothing. A man, in the course of this world, should be like a surgeon's instrument--work in the wounds of others, and feel nothing himself. The sharper and subtler, the better. 203

_Qu._ As it falls out now, knight, you shall not need to devise excuses, or endure her outcries, when she returns; we shall now begone before, where they cannot reach us.

_Pe._ Well, my kind compeer, you have now the assurance we both can make you; let me now entreat you, the money we agreed on may be brought to the Blue Anchor, near to Billingsgate, by six o'clock; where I and my chief friends, bound for this voyage, will with feasts attend you. 213

_Sec._ The money, my most honourable compeer, shall without fail observe your appointed hour.

_Pe._ Thanks, my dear gossip. I must now impart To your approved love, a loving secret; As one on whom my life doth more rely In friendly trust than any man alive. Nor shall you be the chosen secretary 220 Of my affections for affection only: For I protest (if God bless my return) To make you partner in my actions' gain As deeply as if you had ventured with me Half my expenses. Know then, honest gossip, I have enjoy'd with such divine contentment A gentlewoman's bed whom you well know, That I shall ne'er enjoy this tedious voyage, Nor live the least part of the time it asketh, Without her presence; so I thirst and hunger 230 To taste the dear feast of her company. And if the hunger and the thirst you vow As my sworn gossip, to my wishèd good Be, as I know it is, unfeign'd and firm, Do me an easy favour in your power.

_Sec._ Be sure, brave gossip, all that I can do, To my best nerve, is wholly at your service: Who is the woman, first, that is your friend?

_Pe._ The woman is your learned counsel's wife, The lawyer, Master Bramble; whom would you 240 Bring out this even in honest neighbourhood, To take his leave with you, of me your gossip, I, in the meantime, will send this my friend Home to his house, to bring his wife disguised, Before his face, into our company; For love hath made her look for such a wile, To free her from his tyrannous jealousy. And I would take this course before another, In stealing her away to make us sport, And gull his circumspection the more grossly; 250 And I am sure that no man like yourself Hath credit with him to entice his jealousy To so long stay abroad as may give time To her enlargement, in such safe disguise.

_Sec._ A pretty, pithy, and most pleasant project! Who would not strain a point of neighbourhood For such a point device? that as the ship[62] Of famous Draco went about the world, Will wind about the lawyer, compassing The world himself; he hath it in his arms, 260 And that's enough for him, without his wife. A lawyer is ambitious, and his head Cannot be praised nor raised too high, With any fork of highest knavery. I'll go fetch her straight.

[_Exit_ SECURITY.

_Pe._ So, so. Now, Frank, go thou home to his house, 'Stead of his lawyer's, and bring his wife hither, Who, just like to the lawyer's wife, is prison'd With his[63] stern usurous jealousy, which could never Be over-reach'd thus but with over-reaching. 270

_Re-enter_ SECURITY.

_Sec._ And, Master Francis, watch you th' instant time To enter with his exit: 'twill be rare, Two fine horn'd beasts!--a camel and a lawyer!

_Qu._ How the old villain joys in villainy!

_Sec._ And hark you, gossip, when you have her here, Have your boat ready, ship her to your ship With utmost haste, lest Master Bramble stay you. To o'er-reach that head that out-reacheth all heads, 'Tis a trick rampant!--'tis a very quiblin![64] I hope this harvest to pitch cart with lawyers, 280 Their heads will be so forked. This sly touch Will get apes to invent a number such.

[_Exit._

_Qu._ Was ever rascal honey'd so with poison? He that delights in slavish avarice, Is apt to joy in every sort of vice. Well, I'll go fetch his wife, whilst he the lawyer's.

_Pe._ But stay, Frank, let's think how we may disguise her upon this sudden. 288

_Qu._ God's me! there's the mischief! But hark you, here's an excellent device: 'fore God, a rare one! I will carry her a sailor's gown and cap, and cover her, and a player's beard.

_Pe._ And what upon her head?

_Qu._ I tell you, a sailor's cap! 'Slight, God forgive me! what kind of figent[65] memory have you?

_Pe._ Nay, then, what kind of figent wit hast thou? A sailor's cap?--how shall she put it off When thou present'st her to our company?

_Qu._ Tush, man, for that, make her a saucy sailor. 299

_Pe._ Tush, tush! 'tis no fit sauce for such sweet mutton, I know not what t' advise.

_Re-enter_ SECURITY _with his wife's gown_.

_Sec._ Knight, knight, a rare device!

_Pe._ 'Swounds, yet again!

_Qu._ What stratagem have you now?

_Sec._ The best that ever. You talk of disguising?

_Pe._ Ay, marry, gossip, that's our present care.

_Sec._ Cast care away then; here's the best device For plain Security (for I am no better) I think, that ever lived: here's my wife's gown, Which you may put upon the lawyer's wife, 310 And which I brought you, sir, for two great reasons; One is, that Master Bramble may take hold Of some suspicion that it is my wife, And gird me so perhaps with his law-wit; The other (which is policy indeed) Is, that my wife may now be tied at home, Having no more but her old gown abroad, And not show me a quirk, while I firk others. Is not this rare?

_Ambo._ The best that ever was.

_Sec._ Am I not born to furnish gentlemen? 320

_Pe._ O my dear gossip!

_Sec._ Well hold, Master Francis; watch when the lawyer's out, and put it in. And now I will go fetch him.

[_Exit._

_Qu._ O my dad! he goes as 'twere the devil to fetch the lawyer; and devil shall he be, if horns will make him.

_Pe._ Why, how now, gossip? why stay you there musing?

_Sec._ A toy, a toy runs in my head, i'faith. 330

_Qu._ A pox of that head! is there more toys yet?

_Pe._ What is it, pray thee, gossip?

_Sec._ Why, sir, what if you should slip away now with my wife's best gown, I having no security for it?

_Qu._ For that I hope, dad, you will take our words.

_Sec._ Ay, by th' mass, your word--that's a proper staff For wise Security to lean upon! But 'tis no matter, once I'll trust my name On your crack'd credits; let it take no shame. Fetch the wench, Frank.

[_Exit._

_Qu._ I'll wait upon you, sir, 340 And fetch you over, you were ne'er so fetch'd. Go to the tavern, knight; your followers Dare not be drunk, I think, before their captain.

[_Exit._

_Pe._ Would I might lead them to no hotter service Till our Virginian gold were in our purses!

[_Exit._

[55] One of many allusions that show the early popularity of Shakespeare's play.

[56] "Blue coat"--the livery of a serving-man.

[57] Ulcerous swelling.

[58] A variation of the snatch sung by Ophelia.

[59] The herb of remembrance, used at weddings and funerals.

[60] "With a wanion,"--with a plague!

[61] A misquotation from a song in John Dowland's _First Book of Songs or Airs_ (1597):-- "Now, O now, I needs must part, Parting though I absent mourn," &c.

[62] Sir Francis Drake's ship, in which he sailed round the world. By order of Queen Elizabeth it was laid up at Deptford, whither it attracted many sightseers. See Nares' _Glossary_.

[63] "Both the quartos [there is only one] have it 'With _eyes_ stern usurous jealousy,' which may be right, though the sense is rather forced."--_Collier._ The copy that lies before me gives, "With his sterne vsurous Ielosie."

[64] Device, trick.--In _The Insatiate Countess_, ii. 3, we have the word "whiblin" used in the same sense.

[65] Fidgetty, volatile.