Chapter LXXXVIII: Act V: Scene I.3144

_Enter_ Merchant [VENTUREWELL].

_Vent._ I will have no great store of company at the wedding; a
couple of neighbours and their wives; and we will have a capon in
stewed broth, with marrow, and a good piece of beef stuck with
rosemary. 5

_Enter_ JASPER, _his face mealed_.

_Jasp._ Forbear thy pains, fond[3145] man! it is too late.

_Vent._ Heaven bless me! Jasper!

_Jasp._ Ay, I am his ghost,
Whom thou hast injur’d for his constant love,
Fond worldly wretch! who dost not understand
In death that true hearts cannot parted be. 10
First know, thy daughter is quite borne away
On wings of angels, through the liquid air,
To far out of thy reach, and never more
Shalt thou behold her face: but she and I
Will in another world enjoy our loves; 15
Where neither father’s anger, poverty,
Nor any cross that troubles earthly men,
Shall make us sever our united hearts.
And never shalt thou sit or be alone
In any place, but I will visit thee 20
With ghastly looks, and put into thy mind
The great offences which thou didst to me.
When thou art at thy table with thy friends,
Merry in heart, and fill’d with swelling wine,
I’ll come in midst of all thy pride and mirth, 25
Invisible to all men but thyself,
And whisper such a sad tale in thine ear
Shall make thee let the cup fall from thy hand,
And stand as mute and pale as death itself.

_Vent._ Forgive me, Jasper! Oh, what might I do, 30
Tell me, to satisfy thy troubled ghost?

_Jasp._ There is no means; too late thou think’st of this.

_Vent._ But tell me what were best for me to do?

_Jasp._ Repent thy deed, and satisfy my father,
And beat fond Humphrey out of thy doors. _Exit._ 35

_Wife._ Look, George; his very ghost would have folks beaten.

_Enter_ HUMPHREY.

_Hum._ Father, my bride is gone, fair Mistress Luce:
My soul’s the fount of vengeance, mischief’s sluice.

_Vent._ Hence, fool, out of my sight with thy fond passion! 40
Thou hast undone me. [_Beats him._]

_Hum._ Hold, my father dear,
For Luce thy daughter’s sake, that had no peer!

_Vent._ Thy father, fool! There’s some blows more; begone.—
[_Beats him._]
Jasper, I hope thy ghost be well appeas’d
To see thy will perform’d. Now will I go 45
To satisfy thy father for thy wrongs. _Exit._

_Hum._ What shall I do? I have been beaten twice,
And Mistress Luce is gone. Help me, device!
Since my true love is gone, I never more,
Whilst I do live, upon the sky will pore; 50
But in the dark will wear out my shoe-soles
In passion[3146] in Saint Faith’s church under Paul’s. _Exit._

_Wife._ George, call Ralph hither; if you love me, call Ralph hither:
I have the bravest thing for him to do, George: prithee, call him
quickly.

_Cit._ Ralph! why, Ralph, boy! 56

_Enter_ RALPH.

_Ralph._ Here, sir.

_Cit._ Come hither, Ralph; come to thy mistress, boy.

_Wife._ Ralph, I would have thee call all (60) the youths together in
battle-ray, with drums, and guns, and flags, and march to Mile-End
in pompous[3147] fashion, and there exhort your soldiers to be merry
and wise, and to keep their beards from burning, Ralph; and then 65
skirmish, and let your flags fly, and cry, “Kill, kill, kill!” My
husband shall lend you his jerkin, Ralph, and there ’s a scarf; for
the rest, the house shall furnish you, and we’ll pay for ’t. Do it
bravely, Ralph; and think before (70) whom you perform, and what
person you represent.

_Ralph._ I warrant you, mistress; if I do it not for the honour of
the city and the credit of my master, let me never hope for 75
freedom![3148]

_Wife._ ’Tis well spoken, i’ faith. Go thy ways; thou art a spark
indeed.

_Cit._ Ralph, Ralph, double your files bravely, Ralph! 80

_Ralph._ I warrant you, sir. _Exit._

_Cit._ Let him look narrowly to his service; I shall take him else.
I was there myself a pikeman once, in the hottest of the day, wench;
had my feather shot sheer away, the fringe of my pike burnt off with
powder, my pate (86) broken with a scouring-stick,[3149] and yet, I
thank God, I am here. _Drum within._

_Wife._ Hark, George, the drums!

_Cit._ Ran, tan, tan, tan; ran, tan! Oh, wench, an thou hadst but
seen little Ned of Aldgate, (91) Drum Ned, how he made it roar again,
and laid on like a tyrant, and then struck softly till the ward[3150]
came up, and then thund’red again, and together we go! “Sa, sa,
sa, bounce!” (95) quoth the guns; “Courage, my hearts!” quoth the
captains; “Saint George!” quoth the pikemen; and withal, here they
lay, and there they lay: and yet for all this I am here, wench. 100

_Wife._ Be thankful for it, George; for indeed ’t is wonderful.

[SCENE II.][3151]

_Enter_ RALPH _and Company of_ Soldiers (_among whom are_ WILLIAM HAMMERTON, _and_ GEORGE GREENGOOSE), _with drums and colours_.

_Ralph._ March fair, my hearts! Lieutenant, beat the rear
up.—Ancient,[3152] let your colours fly; but have a great care of
the butchers’ hooks at Whitechapel; they have been the death of many
a fair ancient.—Open your (5) files, that I may take a view both of
your persons and munition.—Sergeant, call a muster.

_Serg._ A stand!—William Hammerton, pewterer!

_Ham._ Here, captain! 10

_Ralph._ A corselet and a Spanish pike; ’t is well: can you shake it
with a terror?

_Ham._ I hope so, captain.

_Ralph._ Charge upon me. [_He charges on_ RALPH.]—’T is with the
weakest: put more (15) strength, William Hammerton, more strength. As
you were again!—Proceed, Sergeant.

_Serg._ George Greengoose, poulterer!

_Green._ Here!

_Ralph._ Let me see your piece,[3153] neighbour (20) Greengoose: when
was she shot in?

_Green._ An’t like you, master captain, I made a shot even now,
partly to scour her, and partly for audacity.

_Ralph._ It should seem so certainly, for her (25) breath is yet
inflamed; besides, there is a main[3154] fault in the touch-hole,
it runs and stinketh; and I tell you moreover, and believe it, ten
such touch-holes would breed the pox in the army. Get you a feather,
neighbour, get you (30) a feather, sweet oil, and paper, and your
piece may do well enough yet. Where’s your powder?

_Green._ Here.

_Ralph._ What, in a paper! As I am a soldier and a gentleman, it
craves a martial court! (35) You ought to die for ’t. Where ’s your
horn? Answer me to that.

_Green._ An ’t like you, sir, I was oblivious.

_Ralph._ It likes me not you should be so; ’t is a shame for you,
and a scandal to all our (40) neighbours, being a man of worth and
estimation, to leave your horn behind you: I am afraid ’t will breed
example. But let me tell you no more on ’t.—Stand, till I view you
all. What ’s become o’ th’ nose of your flask? 45

_1 Sold._ Indeed, la, captain, ’t was blown away with powder.

_Ralph._ Put on a new one at the city’s charge.—Where’s the
stone[3155] of this piece?

_2 Sold._ The drummer took it out to light (50) tobacco.

_Ralph._ ’T is a fault, my friend; put it in again.—You want a
nose,—and you a stone.—Sergeant, take a note on ’t, for I mean to
stop it in the pay.—Remove, and march! [_They (55) march._] Soft
and fair, gentlemen, soft and fair! Double your files! As you were!
Faces about! Now, you with the sodden[3156] face, keep in there!
Look to your match, sirrah, it will be in your fellow’s flask anon.
So; make a crescent now: (60) advance your pikes: stand and give
ear!—Gentlemen, countrymen, friends, and my fellow-soldiers, I have
brought you this day, from the shops of security and the counters of
content, to measure out in these furious fields honour by (65) the
ell, and prowess by the pound. Let it not, oh, let it not, I say,
be told hereafter, the noble issue of this city fainted; but bear
yourselves in this fair action like men, valiant men, and free men!
Fear not the face of the enemy, (70) nor the noise of the guns, for,
believe me, brethren, the rude rumbling of a brewer’s car is far more
terrible, of which you have a daily experience; neither let the stink
of powder offend you, since a more valiant stink is nightly
with you. 76
To a resolved mind his home is every-where:
I speak not this to take away
The hope of your return; for you shall see
(I do not doubt it) and that very shortly 80
Your loving wives again and your sweet children,
Whose care doth bear you company in baskets.
Remember, then, whose cause you have in hand,
And, like a sort[3157] of true-born scavengers,
Scour me this famous realm of enemies. 85
I have no more to say but this: stand to your tacklings,[3158] lads,
and show to the world you can as well brandish a sword as shake an
apron. Saint George, and on, my hearts!

_All._ Saint George, Saint George! _Exeunt._ 90

_Wife._ ’T was well done, Ralph! I’ll send thee a cold capon a-field
and a bottle of March beer; and, it may be, come myself to see thee.

_Cit._ Nell, the boy has deceived me much; I did not think it had
been in him. He has (95) performed such a matter, wench, that, if I
live, next year I’ll have him captain of the galley-foist[3159] or
I’ll want my will.

[SCENE III.][3160]

_Enter_ MERRYTHOUGHT.

_Mer._ Yet, I thank God. I break not a wrinkle more than I had. Not
a stoop,[3161] boys? Care, live with cats; I defy thee! My heart is
as sound as an oak; and though I want drink to wet my whistle, I can
sing; [_Sings._] 5
Come no more there, boys, come no more there;
For we shall never whilst we live come any more there.

_Enter_ Boy, [_and two_ Men] _with a Coffin_.

_Boy._ God save you, sir!

_Mer._ It’s a brave boy. Canst thou sing?

_Boy._ Yes, sir, I can sing; but ’t is not so (10) necessary at this
time.

_Mer._ [_sings._]
Sing we, and chant it;
Whilst love doth grant it.

_Boy._ Sir, sir, if you knew what I have brought you, you would have
little list to (15) sing.

_Mer._ [_sings._]
Oh, the Mimon round,
Full long, long I have thee sought,
And now I have thee found,
And what hast thou here brought? 20

_Boy._ A coffin, sir, and your dead son Jasper in it. [_Exit with_
Men.]

_Mer._ Dead! [_Sings._]
Why, farewell he!
Thou wast a bonny boy, 25
And I did love thee.

_Enter_ JASPER.

_Jasp._ Then, I pray you, sir, do so still.

_Mer._ Jasper’s ghost! [_Sings._]
Thou art welcome from Stygian lake so soon;
Declare to me what wondrous things in Pluto’s court are done. 30

_Jasp._ By my troth, sir, I ne’er came there; ’t is too hot for me,
sir.

_Mer._ A merry ghost, a very merry ghost! [_Sings._]
And where is your true love? Oh, where is yours?

_Jasp._ Marry, look you, sir! _Heaves up coffin._ 35

_Mer._ Ah, ha! art thou good at that, i’ faith? [_Sings._]
With hey, trixy, terlery-whiskin,
The world it runs on wheels:
When the young man’s——-,[3162]
Up goes the maiden’s heels. 40

MRS. MERRYTHOUGHT _and_ MICHAEL _within_.

_Mist. Mer._ [_within._] What, Master Merrythought! will you not let
’s in? What do you think shall become of us?

_Mer._ [_Sings._]
What voice is that, that calleth at our door.

_Mist. Mer._ [_within._] You know me well (45) enough; I am sure I
have not been such a stranger to you.

_Mer._ [_sings._]
And some they whistled, and some they sung,
Hey, down, down!
And some did loudly say, 50
Ever as the Lord Barnet’s born blew,
Away, Musgrave, away!

_Mist. Mer._ [_within._] You will not have us starve here, will you,
Master Merrythought?

_Jasp._ Nay, good sir, be persuaded; she is my mother. 55
If her offences have been great against you,
Let your own love remember she is yours,
And so forgive her.

_Luce._ Good Master Merrythought,
Let me entreat you; I will not be denied.

_Mist. Mer._ [_within._] Why, Master Merrythought, (60) will you be a
vext thing still?

_Mer._ Woman, I take you to my love again; but you shall sing before
you enter; therefore despatch your song and so come in.

_Mist. Mer._ [_within._] Well, you must have (65) your will, when
all’s done.—Mick, what song canst thou sing, boy?

_Mich._ [_within._] I can sing none, forsooth, but _A Lady’s
Daughter, of Paris properly_.

_Mist. Mer._ [_Song._]
It was a lady’s daughter, &c. 70

[MERRYTHOUGHT _opens the Door_; _enter_ MISTRESS MERRYTHOUGHT _and_ MICHAEL.]

_Mer._ Come, you’re welcome home again. [_Sings._]
If such danger be in playing,
And jest must to earnest turn,
You shall go no more a-maying—

_Vent._ (_within._) Are you within, sir? Master (75) Merrythought!

_Jasp._ It is my master’s voice! Good sir, go hold him
In talk, whilst we convey ourselves into
Some inward room. [_Exit with_ LUCE.]

_Mer._ What are you? Are you merry?
You must be very merry, if you enter. 80

_Vent._ [_within._] I am, sir.

_Mer._ Sing, then.

_Vent._ [_within._] Nay, good sir, open to me.

_Mer._ Sing, I say, or, by the merry heart, you come not in! 85

_Vent._ [_within._] Well, sir, I’ll sing. [_Sings._]
Fortune, my foe, &c.

[MERRYTHOUGHT _opens the Door_: _Enter_ VENTUREWELL.]

_Mer._ You are welcome, sir, you are welcome: you see your
entertainment; pray you, be merry. 90

_Vent._ Oh, Master Merrythought, I’m come to ask you
Forgiveness for the wrongs I offered you
And your most virtuous son! They’re infinite;
Yet my contrition shall be more than they:
I do confess my hardness broke his heart, 95
For which just Heaven hath given me punishment
More than my age can carry. His wand’ring spirit,
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, 100
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, 105
And if the wag in ’s lifetime play’d the knave,
Can you forgive him too?

_Vent._ With all my heart, sir.

_Mer._ Speak it again, and heartly.

_Vent._ I do, sir;
Now, by my soul, I do.

_Re-enter_ LUCE _and_ JASPER.

_Mer._ [_sings._]
With that came out his paramour; 110
She was as white as the lily flower;
Hey, troul, troly, jolly!
With that came out her own dear knight,
He was as true as ever did fight, &c.
Sir, if you will forgive him, clap their hands (115) together;
there’s no more to be said i’ th’ matter.

_Vent._ I do, I do.

_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. 121

_Boy._ ’Tis ’long of yourself, sir; we have nothing to do with his
part.

_Cit._ Ralph, come away!—Make [an end][3163] on him, as you have
done of the rest, boys; come. 126

_Wife._ Now, good husband, let him come out and die.

_Cit._ He shall, Nell.—Ralph, come away quickly, and die, boy! 130

_Boy._ ’T will be very unfit he should die, sir, upon no occasion—and
in a comedy too.

_Cit._ Take you no care of that, sir boy; is not his part at an end,
think you, when he’s dead?—Come away, Ralph! 135

_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 espi’d a lovely dame,
Whose master wrought with lingel[3164] and with awl,
And underground he vamped many a hoot, 140
Straight did her love prick forth me, tender sprig,
To follow feats of arms in warlike wise
Through Waltham-desert; where I did perform
Many achievements, and did lay on ground
Huge Barbaroso, that insulting giant, 145
And all his captives soon set at liberty.
Then honour prickt me from my native soil
Into Moldavia, where I gain’d the love
Of Pompiona, his beloved daughter;
But yet prov’d constant to the black thumb’d maid 150
Susan, and scorned Pompiona’s love;
Yet liberal I was, and gave her pins,
And money for her father’s officers.
I then returned home, and thrust myself
In action, and by all men chosen was 155
Lord of the May, where I did flourish it,
With scarfs and rings, and posy in my hand.
After this action I preferred was,
And chosen city-captain at Mile-End, 159
With hat and feather, and with leading-staff,[3165]
And train’d my men, and brought them all off clear,
Save one man that beray’d him[3166] with the noise.
But all these things I Ralph did undertake
Only for my beloved Susan’s sake.
Then coming home, and sitting in my shop 165
With apron blue, Death came into my stall
To cheapen[3167] _aqua vitae_; but ere I
Could take the bottle down and fill a taste,
Death caught a pound of pepper in his hand,
And sprinkled all my face and body o’er, 170
And in an instant vanished away.

_Cit._ ’T is a pretty fiction, i’ faith.

_Ralph._ Then took I up my bow and shaft in hand,
And walkt into Moorfields to cool myself;
But there grim cruel Death met me again, 175
And shot this forked arrow through my head;
And now I faint; therefore be warn’d by me,
My fellows every one, of forked heads!
Farewell, all you good boys in merry London!
Ne’er shall we more upon Shrove-Tuesday meet, 180
And pluck down houses of iniquity;[3168]—
My pain increaseth—I shall never more
Hold open, whilst another pumps both legs,
Nor daub a satin gown with rotten eggs,
Set up a stake, oh, never more I shall! 185
I die! fly, fly, my soul, to Grocers’ Hall!
Oh, oh, oh, &c.[3169]

_Wife._ Well said, Ralph! do your obeisance to the gentlemen, and go
your ways: well said, Ralph! 190
RALPH [_rises_, _makes obeisance and_] _exit_.

_Mer._ Methinks all we, thus kindly and unexpectedly reconciled,
should not depart[3170] without a song.

_Vent._ A good motion.

_Mer._ Strike up, then! 195
SONG.
Better music ne’er was known
Than a choir of hearts in one.
Let each other, that hath been
Troubled with the gall or spleen,
Learn of us to keep his brow 200
Smooth and plain, as ours are now:
Sing, though before the hour of dying;
He shall rise, and then be crying,
“Hey, ho, ’t is nought but mirth
That keeps the body from the earth!” _Exeunt._ 205

EPILOGUS.

_Cit._ Come, Nell, shall we go? The play ’s done.

_Wife._ Nay, by my faith, George, I have more manners than so; I
’ll speak to these gentlemen first.—I thank you all, gentlemen,
for (210) your patience and countenance to Ralph, a poor fatherless
child; and if I might see you at my house, it should go hard but
I would have a pottle of wine and a pipe of tobacco for you: for,
truly, I hope you do like the youth, but (215) I would be glad to
know the truth; I refer it to your own discretions, whether you
will applaud him or no; for I will wink, and whilst[3171] you shall
do what you will. I thank you with all my heart. God give you good
night!—Come, (220) George. [_Exeunt._]

PHILASTER; OR LOVE LIES A-BLEEDING

BY FRANCIS BEAUMONT AND JOHN FLETCHER

[DRAMATIS PERSONAE

THE KING OF SICILY.
PHILASTER, Heir to the Crown.
PHARAMOND, Prince of Spain.
DION, a Lord.
CLEREMONT, } Noble Gentlemen,
THRASILINE, } his associates.
An Old Captain.
Five Citizens.
A Country Fellow.
Two Woodmen.
The King’s Guard and Train.

ARETHUSA, Daughter of the King.
EUPHRASIA, Daughter of Dion, but disguised like a Page and called
BELLARIO.
MEGRA, a lascivious Lady.
GALATEA, a wise, modest Lady attending the Princess.
Two other Ladies.

SCENE.—_Sicily._][3172]