SCENE VI.--Mistress Frankford’s _Bedchamber_.

Mistress Frankford _in bed; enter_ Sir Charles Mountford, Sir Francis Acton, Malby, Cranwell, _and_ Susan.

Malby. How fare you, Mistress Frankford?

Mistress Frankford. Sick, sick, oh, sick. Give me some air, I pray you. Tell me, oh, tell me where is Master Frankford? Will not he deign to see me ere I die?

Malby. Yes, Mistress Frankford: divers gentlemen, Your loving neighbours, with that just request Have moved, and told him of your weak estate: Who, though with much ado to get belief, Examining of the general circumstance, Seeing your sorrow and your penitence, And hearing therewithal the great desire You have to see him ere you left the world, He gave to us his faith to follow us, And sure he will be here immediately.

Mistress Frankford. You have half revived me with those pleasing news: Raise me a little higher in my bed. Blush I not, brother Acton? Blush I not, Sir Charles? Can you not read my fault writ in my cheek? Is not my crime there? tell me, gentlemen.

Sir Charles Mountford. Alas! good mistress, sickness hath not left you Blood in your face enough to make you blush.

Mistress Frankford. Then sickness, like a friend, my fault would hide. Is my husband come? My soul but tarries His arrive, then I am fit for Heaven.

Sir Francis Acton. I came to chide you; but my words of hate Are turned to pity and compassionate grief. I came to rate you; but my brawls, you see, Melt into tears, and I must weep by thee. Here’s Master Frankford now.

_Enter_ Frankford.

Frankford. Good-morrow, brother; morrow, gentlemen: God, that hath laid this cross upon our heads, Might (had He pleased) have made our cause of meeting On a more fair and more contented ground; But He that made us, made us to this woe.

Mistress Frankford. And is he come? Methinks that voice I know.

Frankford. How do you, woman?

Mistress Frankford. Well, Master Frankford, well; but shall be better, I hope, within this hour. Will you vouchsafe, Out of your grace and your humanity, To take a spotted strumpet by the hand?

Frankford. This hand once held my heart in faster bonds Than now ’tis gripped by me. God pardon them That made us first break hold!

Mistress Frankford. Amen, amen. Out of my zeal to Heaven, whither I’m now bound, I was so impudent to wish you here; And once more beg your pardon. O good man, And father to my children, pardon me, Pardon, oh, pardon me! My fault so heinous is, That if you in this world forgive it not, Heaven will not clear it in the world to come. Faintness hath so usurped upon my knees That kneel I cannot, but on my heart’s knees My prostrate soul lies thrown down at your feet To beg your gracious pardon. Pardon, oh, pardon me!

Frankford. As freely, from the low depth of my soul, As my Redeemer hath forgiven His death, I pardon thee. I will shed tears for thee, pray with thee; And, in mere pity of thy weak estate, I’ll wish to die with thee.

All. So do we all.

Nicholas. So will not I; I’ll sigh and sob, but, by my faith, not die.

Sir Francis Acton. O Master Frankford, all the near alliance I lose by her shall be supplied in thee: You are my brother by the nearest way; Her kindred hath fallen off, but yours doth stay.

Frankford. Even as I hope for pardon at that day When the great Judge of Heaven in scarlet sits, So be thou pardoned. Though thy rash offence Divorced our bodies, thy repentant tears Unite our souls.

Sir Charles Mountford. Then comfort, Mistress Frankford; You see your husband hath forgiven your fall; Then rouse your spirits, and cheer your fainting soul.

Susan. How is it with you?

Sir Francis Acton. How do ye feel yourself?

Mistress Frankford. Not of this world.

Frankford. I see you are not, and I weep to see it. My wife, the mother to my pretty babes! Both those lost names I do restore thee back, And with this kiss I wed thee once again: Though thou art wounded in thy honoured name, And with that grief upon thy death-bed liest, Honest in heart, upon my soul, thou diest.

Mistress Frankford. Pardoned on earth, soul, thou in Heaven art free. Once more:[1.50] thy wife dies thus embracing thee. [_Dies_.

Frankford. New married, and new widowed. Oh! she’s dead, And a cold grave must be her nuptial bed.

Sir Charles Mountford. Sir, be of good comfort; and your heavy sorrow Part equally amongst us: storms divided Abate their force, and with less rage are guided.

Cranwell. Do, Master Frankford: he that hath least part Will find enough to drown one troubled heart.

Sir Francis Acton. Peace with thee, Nan. Brothers, and gentlemen, All we that can plead interest in her grief, Bestow upon her body funeral tears. Brother, had you with threats and usage bad Punished her sin, the grief of her offence Had not with such true sorrow touched her heart.

Frankford. I see it had not: therefore on her grave Will I bestow this funeral epitaph, Which on her marble tomb shall be engraved. In golden letters shall these words be filled,[1.51] “Here lies she whom her husband’s kindness killed.”

EPILOGUE.

An honest crew, disposèd to be merry, Come to a tavern by, and called for wine: The drawer brought it, smiling like a cherry, And told them it was pleasant, neat, and fine. “Taste it,” quoth one. He did so. “Fie!” quoth he; “This wine was good; now’t runs too near the lee.”

Another sipped, to give the wine his due, And said unto the rest it drunk too flat; The third said, it was old; the fourth, too new; Nay, quoth the fifth, the sharpness likes me not. Thus, gentlemen, you see how, in one hour, The wine was new, old, flat, sharp, sweet, and sour.

Unto this wine we do allude our play; Which some will judge too trivial, some too grave: You as our guests we entertain this day, And bid you welcome to the best we have. Excuse us, then: good wine may be disgraced, When every several mouth hath sundry taste.

THE FAIR MAID OF THE WEST. _Part I_.

_The Fair Maid of the West, or a Girl worth Gold_, “as it was lately acted before the king and queen with approved liking,” was first published (both parts) in 1631: it had been acted as early as 1617, and from the title-page we may conclude that it held the stage for some time. It probably represents the dramatisation of some already-existent story-book or ballad. “We should be sorry,” remarks Mr. Saintsbury,[2.01] “to lose _The Fair Maid of the West_, with its picture of Devonshire sailors, foreign merchants, kings of Fez, bashaws of various parts, Italian dukes, and what not. The two parts make anything but a good play, but they are decidedly interesting.” Only the first has here been given, as it is complete in itself, and the second part is of less value.

I have marked the changes of scene, and in one or two places have made trifling corrections in the text. For instance, in scene iv. of the first act, by reading “your hopes deceased,” and changing the punctuation, we get a very fair sense where Collier (who edited the play for the Shakespeare Society) was inclined to think that a line had dropped out.

THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY.

To the much worthy and my most respected John Othow, Esquire, Counsellor at Law, in the noble Society of Gray’s Inn.

Sir,

Excuse this my boldness, I entreat you, and let it pass under the title of my love and respect, long devoted unto you; of which, if I endeavour to present the world with a due acknowledgement, without the sordid expectation of reward or servile imputation of flattery, I hope it will be the rather accepted. I must ingenuously acknowledge, a weightier argument would have better suited with your grave employment; but there are retirements necessarily belonging to all the labours of the body and brain. If in any such cessation you will deign to cast an eye upon this weak and unpolished poem, I shall receive it as a courtesy from you, much exceeding any merit in me, my good meaning only excepted. Thus wishing you healthful ability in body, untroubled content in mind, with the happy fruition of both the temporal felicities of the world present, and the eternal blessedness of the life future, I still remain as ever,

Yours, most affectionately devoted, Thomas Heywood.

To the Reader.

Courteous Reader, my plays have not been exposed to the public view of the world in numerous sheets and a large volume, but singly, as thou seest, with great modesty and small noise. These comedies, bearing the title of _The Fair Maid of the West_, if they prove but as gracious in thy private reading as they were plausible in the public acting, I shall not much doubt of their success. Nor need they, I hope, much fear a rugged and censorious brow from thee, on whom the greatest and best in the kingdom have vouchsafed to smile. I hold it no necessity to trouble thee with the argument of the story, the matter itself lying so plainly before thee in acts and scenes, without any deviations or winding indents.

Peruse it through, and thou mayst find in it Some mirth, some matter, and, perhaps, some wit. He that would study thy content,

T.H.

PROLOGUE.[2.02]

Amongst the Grecians there were annual feasts, To which none were invited, as chief guests, Save princes and their wives. Amongst the men, There was no argument disputed then, But who best governed; and, as’t did appear, He was esteemed sole sovereign for that year. The queens and ladies argued at that time For virtue and for beauty which was prime, And she had the high honour. Two here be, For beauty one, the other majesty, Most worthy (did that custom still persever) Not for one year, but to be sovereigns ever.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

Gentlemen:

Spencer, Carrol, Fawcett,

Captain Goodlack, Spencer’s Friend.

Roughman,[2.03] a swaggering Gentleman.

Clem, a Vintner’s Apprentice.

Two Captains.

The Mayor of Foy.

An Alderman.

Mullisheg, King of Fez.

Bashaw Alcade.

Bashaw Joffer.

A Spanish Captain.

An English Merchant.

A French Merchant.

An Italian Merchant.

A Surgeon.

A Preacher.

Drawers, Sailors, Spaniards, Moors.

Servants, Chorus.

Bess Bridges, the Fair Maid of the West.

A Kitchenmaid.

Mutes personated:[2.04]

The Earl of Essex, The Mayor of Plymouth, Petitioners,

SCENE--England, The Azores, Morocco.

THE FAIR MAID OF THE WEST.

ACT THE FIRST.