SCENE I.

_Cuckold's Haven._

_Enter_ SLITGUT _with a pair of ox-horns, discovering Cuckold's Haven above_.

_Sl._ All hail, fair haven of married men only! for there are none but married men cuckolds. For my part, I presume not to arrive here, but in my masters behalf (a poor butcher of East-cheap), who sends me to set up (in honour of Saint Luke) these necessary ensigns of his homage.[73] And up I got this morning, thus early, to get up to the top of this famous tree, that is all fruit and no leaves, to advance this crest of my master's occupation. Up then; heaven and Saint Luke bless me, that I be not blown into the Thames as I climb, with this furious tempest. 'Slight! I think the devil be abroad, in likeness of a storm, to rob me of my horns! Hark how he roars! Lord! what a coil the Thames keeps! she bears some unjust burthen, I believe, that she kicks and curvets thus to cast it. Heaven bless all honest passengers that are upon her back now; for the bit is out of her mouth, I see, and she will run away with 'hem! So, so, I think I have made it look the right way; it runs against London Bridge, as it were, even full butt. And now let me discover from this lofty prospect, what pranks the rude Thames plays in her desperate lunacy. O me! here's a boat has been cast away hard by. Alas, alas! see one of her passengers labouring for his life to land at this haven here! pray heaven he may recover it! His next land is even just under me; hold out yet a little, whatsoever thou art; pray, and take a good heart to thee. 'Tis a man; take a man's heart to thee; yet a little further, get up a' thy legs, man; now 'tis shallow enough. So, so, so! Alas! he's down again. Hold thy wind, father: 'tis a man in a nightcap. So! now he's got up again; now he's past the worst: yet, thanks be to heaven, he comes towards me pretty and strongly. 33

_Enter_ SECURITY _without his hat, in a nightcap, wet band, &c._

_Sec._ Heaven, I beseech thee, how have I offended thee! where am I cast ashore now, that I may go a righter way home by land? Let me see; O I am scarce able to look about me: where is there any seamark that I am acquainted withal?

_Sl._ Look up, father; are you acquainted with this mark? 40

_Sec._ What! landed at Cuckold's Haven! Hell and damnation! I will run back and drown myself.

[_He falls down._

_Sl._ Poor man, how weak he is! the weak water has washed away his strength.

_Sec._ Landed at Cuckold's Haven! If it had not been to die twenty times alive, I should never have 'scaped death! I will never arise more; I will grovel here and eat dirt till I be choked; I will make the gentle earth do that, which the cruel water has denied me. 49

_Sl._ Alas! good father, be not so desperate! Rise, man; if you will I'll come presently and lead you home.

_Sec._ Home! shall I make any know my home, that has known me thus abroad? How low shall I crouch away, that no eye may see me? I will creep on the earth while I live, and never look heaven in the face more.

[_Exit creeping._

_Sl._ What young planet reigns now, trow,[74] that old men are so foolish? What desperate young swaggerer would have been abroad such a weather as this, upon the water? Ay me! see another remnant of this unfortunate shipwreck, or some other. A woman, i'faith, a woman; though it be almost at St. Katherine's, I discern it to be a woman, for all her body is above the water, and her clothes swim about her most handsomely. O, they bear her up most bravely! has not a woman reason to love the taking up of her clothes the better while she lives, for this? Alas! how busy the rude Thames is about her! a pox o' that wave! it will drown her, i'faith, 'twill drown her! Cry God mercy, she has 'scaped it--I thank heaven she has 'scaped it! O how she swims like a mermaid! some vigilant body look out and save her. That's well said; just where the priest fell in, there's one sets down a ladder, and goes to take her up. God's blessing o' thy heart, boy! Now take her up in thy arms and to bed with her; she's up, she's up! She's a beautiful woman, I warrant her; the billows durst not devour her. 77

_Enter the_ Drawer _of the Blue Anchor,_[75] _with_ WINIFRED.

_Dr._ How fare you now, lady?

_Wi._ Much better, my good friend, than I wish; as one desperate of her fame, now my life is preserved.

_Dr._ Comfort yourself: that power that preserved you from death can likewise defend you from infamy, howsoever you deserve it. Were not you one that took boat late this night, with a knight and other gentlemen at Billingsgate?

_Wi._ Unhappy that I am, I was. 86

_Dr._ I am glad it was my good hap to come down thus far after you, to a house of my friend's here in St. Katherine's, since I am now happily made a mean to your rescue from the ruthless tempest, which (when you took boat) was so extreme, and the gentleman that brought you forth so desperate and unsober, that I feared long ere this I should hear of your shipwreck, and therefore (with little other reason) made thus far this way. And this I must tell you, since perhaps you may make use of it, there was left behind you at our tavern, brought by a porter (hired by the young gentleman that brought you), a gentlewoman's gown, hat, stockings, and shoes; which if they be yours, and you please to shift you, taking a hard bed here in this house of my friend, I will presently go fetch you. 101

_Wi._ Thanks, my good friend, for your more than good news. The gown with all things bound with it are mine; which if you please to fetch as you have promised, I will boldly receive the kind favour you have offered till your return; entreating you, by all the good you have done in preserving me hitherto, to let none take knowledge of what favour you do me, or where such a one as I am bestowed, lest you incur me much more damage in my fame than you have done me pleasure in preserving my life. 110

_Dr._ Come in, lady, and shift yourself; resolve that nothing but your own pleasure shall be used in your discovery.

_Wi._ Thank you, good friend; the time may come, I shall requite you.

[_Exeunt._

_Slit._ See, see, see! I hold my life, there's some other a taking up at Wapping now! Look, what a sort of people cluster about the gallows there! in good troth it is so. O me! a fine young gentleman! What, and taken up at the gallows! Heaven grant he be not one day taken down there! O' my life, it is ominous! Well, he is delivered for the time. I see the people have all left him; yet will I keep my prospect awhile, to see if any more have been shipwracked. 124

_Enter_ QUICKSILVER, _bareheaded_.

_Qu._ Accursed that ever I was saved or born! How fatal is my sad arrival here! As if the stars and providence spake to me, And said, "The drift of all unlawful courses (Whatever end they dare propose themselves, In frame of their licentious policies), 130 In the firm order of just destiny, They are the ready highways to our ruins." I know not what to do; my wicked hopes Are, with this tempest, torn up by the roots. O! which way shall I bend my desperate steps, In which unsufferable shame and misery Will not attend them? I will walk this bank, And see if I can meet the other relics Of our poor shipwreck'd crew, or hear of them. The knight, alas! was so far gone with wine, 140 And th' other three, that I refused their boat, And took the hapless woman in another, Who cannot but be sunk, whatever fortune Hath wrought upon the others' desperate lives.

[_Exit._

_Enter_ Sir PETRONEL _and_ SEAGULL, _bareheaded_.

_Pe._ Zounds! captain, I will tell thee, we are cast up o' the coast of France. 'Sfoot! I am not drunk still, I hope. Dost remember where we were last night?

_Sea._ No, by my troth, knight, not I; but methinks we have been a horrible while upon the water and in the water. 150

_Pe._ Ay me! we are undone for ever! Hast any money about thee?

_Sea._ Not a penny, by Heaven!

_Pe._ Not a penny betwixt us, and cast ashore in France!

_Sea._ 'Faith, I cannot tell that; my brains nor mine eyes are not mine own yet. 157

_Enter two_ Gentlemen.

_Pe._ 'Sfoot! wilt not believe me? I know't by th' elevation of the pole, and by the altitude and latitude of the climate. See, here comes a couple of French gentlemen; I knew we were in France; dost thou think our Englishmen are so Frenchified, that a man knows not whether he be in France or in England, when he sees 'hem? What shall we do? We must e'en to 'hem, and entreat some relief of 'hem. Life is sweet, and we have no other means to relieve our lives now but their charities.

_Sea._ Pray you, do you beg on 'hem then; you can speak French. 168

_Pe._ Monsieur, plaist il d'avoir pitie de nostre grande infortune. Je suis un poure chevalier d'Angleterre qui a souffri l'infortune de naufrage.

_1st Gent._ Un poure chevalier d'Angleterre?

_Pe._ Oui, monsieur, il est trop vray; mais vous sçaves bien nous sommes toutes subject à fortune.

_2nd Gent._ A poor knight of England?--a poor knight of Windsor, are you not? Why speak you this broken French when y'are a whole Englishman? On what coast are you, think you?

_Pe._ On the coast of France, sir. 179

_1st Gent._ On the coast of Dogs, sir; y'are i'th' Isle o' Dogs, I tell you, I see y'ave been washed in the Thames here, and I believe ye were drowned in a tavern before, or else you would never have took boat in such a dawning as this was. Farewell, farewell; we will not know you for shaming of you. I ken the man weel; he's one of my thirty pound knights.[76]

_2nd Gent._ No, no, this is he that stole his knighthood o' the grand day for four pound given to a page; all the money in's purse, I wot well.

[_Exeunt._

_Sea._ Death! colonel, I knew you were over-shot. 190

_Pe._ Sure I think now, indeed, Captain Seagull, we were something over-shot.

_Enter_ QUICKSILVER.

What! my sweet Frank Quicksilver! dost thou survive to rejoice me? But what! nobody at thy heels, Frank? Ay me! what is become of poor Mistress Security?

_Qu._ 'Faith, gone quite from her name, as she is from her fame, I think; I left her to the mercy of the water.

_Sea._ Let her go, let her go! Let us go to our ship at Blackwall, and shift us. 199

_Pe._ Nay, by my troth, let our clothes rot upon us, and let us rot in them; twenty to one our ship is attached by this time! If we set her not under sail this last tide, I never looked for any other. Woe, woe is me! what shall become of us? The last money we could make, the greedy Thames has devoured; and if our ship be attached, there is no hope can relieve us.

_Qu._ 'Sfoot! knight, what an unknightly faintness transports thee! Let our ship sink, and all the world that's without us be taken from us, I hope I have some tricks in this brain of mine shall not let us perish. 210

_Sea._ Well said, Frank, i'faith. O, my nimble-spirited Quicksilver! 'Fore God! would thou hadst been our colonel!

_Pe._ I like his spirit rarely; but I see no means he has to support that spirit.

_Qu._ Go to, knight! I have more means than thou art aware of. I have not lived amongst goldsmiths and goldmakers all this while, but I have learned something worthy of my time with 'hem. And not to let thee stink where thou stand'st, knight, I'll let thee know some of my skill presently. 221

_Sea._ Do, good Frank, I beseech thee.

_Qu._ I will blanch copper so cunningly that it shall endure all proofs but the test: it shall endure malleation, it shall have the ponderosity of Luna, and the tenacity of Luna--by no means friable.

_Pe._ 'Slight! where learn'st thou these terms, trow?

_Qu._ Tush, knight! the terms of this art every ignorant quacksalver is perfect in; but I'll tell you how yourself shall blanch copper thus cunningly. Take arsenic, otherwise called realga (which indeed is plain ratsbane); sublime 'hem three or four times, then take the sublimate of this realga, and put 'hem into a glass, into chymia, and let them have a convenient decoction natural, four-and-twenty hours, and he will become perfectly fixed; then take this fixed powder, and project him upon well-purged copper, _et habebis magisterium_. 237

_Ambo._ Excellent Frank, let us hug thee!

_Qu._ Nay, this I will do besides. I'll take you off twelvepence from every angel, with a kind of aquafortis, and never deface any part of the image.

_Pe._ But then it will want weight?

_Qu._ You shall restore that thus: Take your sal achime prepared, and your distilled urine, and let your angels lie in it but four-and-twenty hours, and they shall have their perfect weight again. Come on, now; I hold this is enough to put some spirit into the livers of you; I'll infuse more another time. We have saluted the proud air long enough with our bare sconces. Now will I have you to a wench's house of mine at London, there make shift to shift us, and after, take such fortunes as the stars shall assign us. 252

_Ambo._ Notable Frank, we will ever adore thee!

[_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Drawer, _with_ WINIFRED _new-attired_.

_Wi._ Now, sweet friend, you have brought me near enough your tavern, which I desired I might with some colour be seen near, inquiring for my husband, who, I must tell you, stole[77] thither the last night with my wet gown we have left at your friend's, which, to continue your former honest kindness, let me pray you to keep close from the knowledge of any: and so, with all vow of your requital, let me now entreat you to leave me to my woman's wit and fortune. 262

_Dr._ All shall be done you desire; and so all the fortune you can wish for attend you.

[_Exit_ Drawer.

_Enter_ SECURITY.

_Sec._ I will once more to this unhappy tavern before I shift one rag of me more; that I may there know what is left behind, and what news of their passengers. I have bought me a hat and band with the little money I had about me, and made the streets a little leave staring at my nightcap.

_Wi._ O, my dear husband! where have you been to-night? All night abroad at taverns! Rob me of my garments! and fare as one run away from me! Alas! is this seemly for a man of your credit, of your age, and affection to your wife? 275

_Sec._ What should I say?--how miraculously sorts this!--was not I at home, and called thee last night?

_Wi._ Yes, sir, the harmless sleep you broke; and my answer to you would have witnessed it, if you had had the patience to have stayed and answered me; but your so sudden retreat made me imagine you were gone to Master Bramble's, and so rested patient and hopeful of your coming again, till this your unbelieved absence brought me abroad with no less than wonder, to seek you where the false knight had carried you. 285

_Sec._ Villain and monster that I was! how have I abused thee! I was suddenly gone indeed; for my sudden jealousy transferred me. I will say no more but this: dear wife, I suspected thee.

_Wi._ Did you suspect me? 290

_Sec._ Talk not of it, I beseech thee; I am ashamed to imagine it. I will home, I will home; and every morning on my knees ask thee heartily forgiveness.

[_Exeunt._

[_Slit._] Now will I descend my honourable prospect; the farthest seeing sea-mark of the world; no marvel, then, if I could see two miles about me. I hope the red tempest's anger be now over-blown, which sure, I think, Heaven sent as a punishment for profaning holy Saint Luke's memory[78] with so ridiculous a custom. Thou dishonest satire! farewell to honest married men, farewell to all sorts and degrees of thee! Farewell, thou horn of hunger, that call'st the inns o' court to their manger! Farewell, thou horn of abundance, that adornest the headsmen of the commonwealth! Farewell, thou horn of direction, that is the city lanthorn! Farewell, thou horn of pleasure, the ensign of the huntsman! Farewell, thou horn of destiny, th' ensign of the married man! Farewell, thou horn tree, that bearest nothing but stone-fruit! 309

[_Exit._

[73] Horn-fair was held at Charlton on St. Luke's Day, 18th October.--The tradition was that King John cuckolded a miller who lived near Charlton, and compensated him by giving him all the land that he could see from his house, looking down the river; the condition being that the miller should walk round the estate annually on St. Luke's Day with a pair of buck's horns fastened on his head.

[74] _I.e._, think you?

[75] Old ed. "_Enter the_ Drawer _in the tavern before_."

[76] A sneer at those who purchased the honour of knighthood from King James. As he spoke the words the actor mimick'd James' Scotch accent.

[77] Old ed. "stale."

[78] See note, p. 72. [Transcriber's Note: Footnote 73]