and have fidlers, and dance.—I have been a mad wag in my time, and have spent some crowns since I was a page in court, to my lord Lofty, and after, my lady's gentleman-usher, who got me knighted in Ireland, since it pleased my elder brother to die.-I had as fair a gold jerkin on that day, as any worn in the island voyage, or at Cadiz, none dispraised; and I came over in it hither, shew'd myself to my friends in court, and after went down to my tenants in the country, and surveyed my lands, let new leases, took their money, spent it in the eye o' the land here, upon ladies-and now I can take up at my pleasure. Daup. Can you take up ladies, sir? Cler. O, let him breathe, he has not recover'd. Daup. Would I were your half in that commodity! La-F. No, sir, excuse me: I meant money, which can take up any thing. I have another guest or two, to invite, and say as much to, gentlemen. I'll take my leave abruptly, in hope you will not failYour servant. [Exit. I had as fair a gold jerkin on that day, as any was worn in the island voyage, or at Cadiz, none dispraised;] "This island voyage (as Upton observes) was undertaken 1585, sir Francis` Drake being admiral, with a fleet of one and twenty sail, and with above two thousand volunteers aboard: they went to Hispaniola, and there made themselves masters of the town of St. Domingo. The other adventure here mentioned, was undertaken in 1596, when the earl of Essex and sir Walter Raleigh burnt the Indian fleet at Cadiz, consisting of forty sail, and brought home immense treasures." Shakspeare alludes to this finery of dressing, when our youth went abroad, in King John: -and some "Have sold their fortunes at their native homes, A. II. S. 1. WHAL. Daup. We will not fail you, sir precious LaFoole; but she shall, that your ladies come to see, if I have credit afore sir Daw. Cler. Did you ever hear such a wind-sucker,' as this? Daup. Or such a rook as the other, that will betray his mistress to be seen! Come, 'tis time we prevented it. Cler. Go. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I. A Room in Morose's House. Enter MOROSE with a tube in his hand, followed by MUTE. Mor. Cannot I, yet, find out a more compendious method, than by this trunk, to save my servants the labour of speech, and mine ears the discords of sounds? Let me see: all discourses but my own afflict me; they seem harsh, impertinent, and irksome. Is it not possible, that thou shouldst answer me by signs, and I apprehend thee, fellow? Speak not, though I question you. 7 Did you ever hear such a wind-sucker,] A kind of kite, that supports itself for a considerable time in the air with little or no motion, its beak being turned towards the wind, which it seems to suck. WHAL. All discourses but my own afflict me ;] This is well observed; for Morose, like his name-sake in Libanius, is extremely delighted with the sound of his own voice. This, however, is a trait of nature, and must have been taken from actual observation. You have taken the ring off from the street door, as I bade you? answer me not by speech, but by silence; unless it be otherwise [Mute makes a leg.]-very good. And you have fastened on a thick quilt, or flock-bed, on the outside of the door; that if they knock with their daggers, or with brick-bats, they can make no noise?-But with your leg, your answer, unless it be otherwise. [makes a leg.]-Very good. This is not only fit modesty in a servant, but good state and discretion in a master. And you have been with Cutbeard the barber, to have him come to me? [makes a leg.]- Good. And, he will come presently? Answer me not but with your leg, unless it be otherwise: if it be otherwise, shake your head, or shrug. [makes a leg.]-So! Your Italian and Spaniard are wise in these: and it is a frugal and comely gravity. How long will it be ere Cutbeard come? Stay; if an hour, hold up your whole hand; if half an hour, two fingers; if a quarter, one; [holds up a finger bent.]— Good: half a quarter? 'tis well. And have you given him a key, to come in without knocking? [makes a leg.]-good. And, is the lock oil'd, and the hinges, to-day? [makes a leg.] good. And the quilting of the stairs no where worn out and bare? [makes a leg.] - Very good. I see, by much doctrine, and impulsion, it may be effected; stand by. The Turk, in this divine discipline, is admirable, exceeding all the potentates of the earth; still waited on by mutes; and all his commands so executed; yea, even in the war, as I have heard, and in his marches, most of his charges and directions given by signs, and with silence:' an exquisite art! and I am 9 Yea, even in the war, as I have heard, and in his marches, heartily ashamed, and angry oftentimes, that the princes of Christendom should suffer a barbarian to transcend them in so high a point of felicity. I will practise it hereafter. [A horn winded within.] -How now? oh! oh! what villain, what prodigy of mankind is that? look. [Exit Mute.]-[Horn again.]-Oh! cut his throat, cut his throat! what murderer, hell-hound, devil can this be? Re-enter MUTE. Mute. It is a post from the court- horn too? Mute. Alas, it is a post from the court, sir, that says, he must speak with you, pain of deathMor. Pain of thy life, be silent! Enter TRUEWIT with a post-horn, and a halter in his hand. True. By your leave, sir ;-I am a stranger here: Is your name master Morose? is your name master Morose? Fishes! Pythagoreans all! This is strange. What say you, sir? nothing! most of his charges and directions given by signs, and with silence.] A little enlargement, perhaps, of the reports of travellers: but the exact discipline and order observed in the Turkish army, is remarked by Busbequius: Videbam summo ordine cujusque corporis milites suis locis distributos, et (quod vix credat, qui nostratis militiæ consuetudinem novit) summum erat silentium, summa quies, rixa nulla, nullum cujusquam insolens factum, sed ne vox quidem aut vitulatio per lasciviam aut ebrietatem emissa. WHAL. The Turks have long lost this divine discipline, as far, at least, as war is concerned. Nothing on earth can be more noisy and tumultuous than the marches and encampments of a Turkish army, at present. VOL. III. B b Has Harpocrates been here with his club,' among you? Well, sir, I will believe you to be the man at this time: I will venture upon you, sir. Your friends at court commend them to you, sir Mor. O men! O manners! was there ever such an impudence? True. And are extremely solicitous for you, sir. Mor. Whose knave are you? True. Mine own knave, and your compeer, sir. Mor. Fetch me my sword True. You shall taste the one half of my dagger, if you do, groom; and you the other, if you stir, sir: Be patient, I charge you, in the king's name, and hear me without insurrection. They say, you are to marry; to marry! do you mark, sir? Mor. How then, rude companion! True. Marry, your friends do wonder, sir, the Thames being so near, wherein you may drown, Has Harpocrates been here with his club,] Harpocrates, as every one knows, is the god of silence; but he is usually described with a finger on his lip, and a cornucopia, instead of a club, in his hand. Esculapius, indeed, is thus represented on many antique gems; and, perhaps, Jonson may have confounded the two deities: but I desire to be understood as speaking with great deference, whenever I venture to question the accuracy of so universal a scholar. In terming them Pythagoreans, he alludes to the long probationary silence imposed by Pythagoras on his followers. 2 Marry, your friends do wonder, sir, the Thames being so near, &c.] Here begin Jonson's imitations of the sixth Satire of Juvenal, which are scattered profusely through the remainder of this scene. They are adapted to the manners of the poet's time with sufficient ingenuity; but appear almost too obvious to be pointed out. If the reader will compare the opening of this speech with the original, he will be enabled to judge of the general resemblance: Ferre potes dominam salvis tot restibus ullam, Cum pateant alta caligantesque fenestræ, Et tibi vicinum se præbeat Emilius pons? Upton has transcribed all the passages imitated; but apparently |