Mer. You're welcome, sir, you're welcome! You see your entertainment; 'pray you be merry. Merch. Oh, master Merrythought, I'm Forgiveness for the wrongs I offer'd you, ment [spirit, More than my age can carry; his wandring Not yet at rest, pursues me every where, Crying, I'll haunt thee for thy cruelty." My daughter she is gone, I know not how, Taken invisible, and whether living, Or in the grave, 'tis yet uncertain to me. Oh, master Merrythought, these are the weights Will sink me to my grave! Forgive me, sir. Mer. Why, sir, I do forgive you; and be merry! And if the wag in's life-time play'd the knave, Can you forgive him too? Merch. With all my heart, sir. Mer. Speak it again, and heartily. Merch. I do, sir; Now, by my soul, I do. Mer. With that came out his paramour; Enter Luce and Jasper. With that came out her own dear knight, He was as true as ever did fight, &c. Sir, if you will forgive 'em, clap their hands Together; there's no more to be said i' th' Merch. I do, I do. [matter. Cit. I do not like this: Peace, boys! Hear me, one of you! every body's part is come to an end but Ralph's, and he's left out. Boy. Tis long of yourself, sir; we have nothing to do with his part. Cit. Ralph, come away! Make an end on him, as you have done of the rest, boys; come! Wife. Now, good husband, let him come out and die. Cit. He shall, Nell. Ralph, comme away quickly, and die, boy. Boy. Twill be very unfit he should die, sir, upon no occasion'; and in a comedy too. Cit. Take you no care for that, Sir Boy; is not his part at an end, think you, when he's dead? Come away, Ralph! Enter Ralph, with a forked arrow through his head. Ralph. When I was mortal, this my costive corps Did lap up figs and raisins in the Strand; Where sitting, I espied a lovely dame, Whose master wrought with lingell and with awl, 68 And underground he vamped many a boot: Straight did her love prick forth me, tender sprig, To follow feats of arms in warlike wise, But yet prov'd constant to the black-thumb'd maid Susan, and scorned Pompiona's love; 65 Fortune my foe.] See note on The Custom of the Country. Make on him.] The two words which we have added seem absolutely necessary to the completion of the sense. 67 When I was mortal, &c.] This speech is a parody on that of the Ghost of Andrea, at the beginning of the famous play of Jeronimo: When this eternal substance of my soul 'Did live imprison'd in my wonted flesh,' &c. R. Lingell.] A thread of hemp rubbed with rosin, &c. used by the rustics for mending I then returned home, and thrust myself Then coming home, and sitting in my shop Could take the bottle down, and fill a taste, Cit. 'Tis a pretty fiction, i' faith! Ralph. Then took I up my bow and shaft in hand, And walked in Moorfields to cool myself: But there grim cruel Death met me again, Ne'er shall we more upon Shrove-Tuesday meet, And pluck down houses of iniquity; I die! fly, fly, my soul, to Grocers' Hall! Ob, Wife. Well said, Ralph! do your obeisance to the gentlemen, and go your ways. said, Ralph! Well [Exit Ralph. Mer. Methinks all we, thus kindly and unexpectedly reconciled, should not part without a song. Merch. A good motion. Better musick ne'er was known, And poesie in my hand.] The orthography varied by Sympson to posie. THE privy mark of irony, which runs through this play, not being understood, was the reason, says Walter Burre, [In his Dedication of the quarto of 1615, to his many ways endeered friend, maister Robert Keysar] that it was ready to give up the ghost, and ran the danger of being smothered in perpetual oblivion, had not Mr. Keysar been moved to relieve and cherish it. And that the Reader may not think the hint of ridiculing Romance-Writers was taken from Don Quixote, the same Burre assures us, in very strong terms, that our Knight came out into the world above a full year before the Spaniard. If this be so, then the present play was wrote at least in the year 1604, for Cervantes did not publish his first part before A. D. 1605. However, this eight days performance has more gall in it than I could wish; and the Poet, against whom the keenest part of this satire is seemingly levelled, deserved better treatment than we find he has met with: And it might be owing perhaps to Spenser's friends that this piece was suppressed for at least the term of nine years, i. e. from 1604, in which it might be wrote, to A.D. 1613, when the first quarto copy came out into the world. Sympson. We by no means credit the assertion of Walter Burre, that our Knight came into the world' before Don Quixote: It must be obvious to every attentive reader of both, VOL. II. 3 Q that our Authors derived many principal hints from that source. But a much stronger proof of this play being of a later date than Burre asserts, is, that it followed Heywood's Four Prentices (the reference to which is fully proved by the very ingenious Mr. Warton, p. 472 of this volume) of which we have no account till the year 1612. It therefore ap pears probable, that Cervantes began the ridicule on Knight-Errantry; that Heywood followed his track; and that our Authors (even while they laughed at Heywood) burlesqued the same folly in the succeeding year, A COMEDY. The Commendatory Verses by Gardiner ascribe this play to Fletcher alone; the Prologue to both Writers. It was originally printed in the folio edition; has not been performed for many years past; nor do we know of its ever having received alterations. any PROLOGUE. To this place, gentlemen, full maný a day We must entreat you look for: A good tale, Let them dispute that writ it. Ten to one Nor no light.] The context, as well as the measure, seems to require us to read, 'We must entreat you look for;' or something to that purpose. Governor of Barcelona. LEONARDO, a noble Genoese. PERSONS REPRESENTED. SANCHIO, an old lame angry Soldier. PHILIPPO, Son to Alphonso, Lover of Leo cadia. MARC-ANTONIO, Son to Leonardo. RODORIGO, General of the Spanish Gallies. INCURO, Bailiff of Castel-Blanco. LAZARO, Hostler to Diego. Host of Barcelona. EUGENIA, Wife to the Governor of Barcelona. Wife to the Host of Barcelona. SCENE, Barcelona and the Road. SCENE I. Enter Incubo and Diego. ACT I. Inc. Oh, the block! Diego. Why, how should I have answer'd? Incubo. SIGNOR don Diego, and mine host, Negligent rudeness; but, I kiss your hands, save thee! Diego. I thank you, master Baily. Signor don Incubo de Hambre; and then My titles; master Baily of Castel-Blanco,' Thou ne'er wilt have the elegancy of an host; I sorrow for thee, as my friend and gossip!No smoak, nor steam out-breathing from the kitchen? There's little life i' th' hearth then. Diego. Ay; there, there! That is his friendship, hearkening for the spit, And sorry that he cannot smell the pot boil. Inc. Strange An inn should be so curs'd, and not the sign Blasted nor wither'd; very strange! three days now, And not an egg eat in it, nor an onion. Diego. I think they ha' strew'd th' highways with caltraps, 1; No horse dares pass 'em; I did never know A week of so sad doings, since I first Stood to my sign-post. Inc. Gossip, I have found The root of all: Kneel, pray; it is thyself Inc. Do, call, And put 'em on in haste: Alter thy fortune, By appearing worthy of her. Dost thou think Her good face e'er will know a man in cuerpo? In single body, thus? in hose and doublet, The horse-boy's garb? base blank, and halfblank cuerpo? Did I, or master dean of Sevil, our neighbour, E'er reach our dignities in cuerpo, think'st thou? In squirting hose and doublet? Signor, no; There went more to't: There were cloaks, gowns, cassocks, And other paramentos: Call, I say. Enter Hostess. Hostess. What means your worship? And now his cloak! here, cast it up. I mean, Gossip, to change your luck, and bring you guests. Hostess. Why, is there charm in this? But not the pace of one that runs on errands! And yourself governing a great man's mules Me a poor 'squire at Madrid, attending A master of ceremonies (but a man, believe it, That knew his place to the gold-weight); and such, Have I heard him oft say, ought ev'ry host Diego. How? Inc. A master of ceremonies; [cuerpo; At least, vicc-master, and to do nought in That was his maxin. I will tell thee of him: He would not speak with an ambassador's cook, See a cold bake-meat from a foreign part, The Milan sword, the cloak of Genoa, set [Knock within. |