A Select Collection of Old English Plays Part 80

ALL. Conquest and affability contend Which to his count'nance may pretend most right.

His spirit's too evenly poised to be transported With the success of fortune. Let us hear him.

DUKE. Safely arriv'd, thanks to the pow'rs above, Here are we come: our enemies subdu'd, Our wrongs redress'd, our merchants satisfi'd: No foreign force t' oppose us. Thus has time Crown'd our addresses with triumphant palms, And by just war begot a thankful peace.

ALL. Long live Eugenio, Seville's governor!

DUKE. Our constant care shall gratify your love.

Meantime, let these brave soldiers sharers be In our success: whom you and we're to hold Such joint a.s.sistants in our victories, As their redoubted prowess merits fame, And competent rewards to recompense Their n.o.ble service: for (believe it, friends) Never were hazards better seconded, Nor by their valour to a period Sooner reduced; so prosperous was our fight In dark'ning those who took away our light.

And having now compos'd these broils abroad, We're to look homeward, and redress those wrongs Which nestle in the bosom of our state: So much more dang'rous, because connivance Has wrought them into habits. These, we fear, Pretend a privilege, because the face Of greatness gives them count'nance. But our laws Must be no spider-webs, to take small flies, And let the great ones 'scape. We have resolv'd "Greatness shall be no subterfuge to guilt."

This must we act with speed, and closely too; For secrecy, wing'd with celerity, Be the two wheels which manage moral states And martial actions. After short repose, These we'll chastise; and by a due survey, As just complaints shall be exhibited, Measure our censure to the peccants' crime.

Nor must we spin our time: we have design'd Our very next day for aggrievances Of court and city, where our absence might Admit, perchance, more freedom to offend.

"The only way to salve a deep disease Is to give what may cure, not what may please.

Wherein delays prove worst: artists apply Receipts, before distempers grow too high."

[_Exit, tubis et tympanis sonantibus; conspicuo aulicorum et stratiotum coetu comitante._

ALL. Under such guardians may we live and die.

[_Exeunt plebeii._

SCENE II.

_Enter a Regiment of_ TREPANNERS _and_ TARPAULINS, _with drum and colours, gallantly marching in their victorious return and prosperous success from Tunis_.

1ST OFF. Sa-sa.

2D OFF. Ran-tan.

3D OFF. Tara-tantara. Thus far from the Isle of Canary. Is not this better, my boys, than trepanning an old drolling friar for a sequestered bond?--Hey boys, here be those Indian rats that cant and chirp in my pocket, as if after a long apprenticeship they sought to be made freemen.

[_He shakes his pocket._

But I must not yet enlarge them.

2D OFF. O ye pitiful simpletons, who spend your days in throwing cudgels at Jack-a-Lents or Shrove-c.o.c.ks!

3D OFF. Nay, in making gooselings in embers: and starting as if they were planet-struck at the weak report of a pot-gun.

1ST OFF. My wish shall be for all that puisne pen-feathered aerie of buzzardism[173] and stanielry:[174]

"_That such as they who love to stay to suck their mamma's teat, May live at home, but ne'er find one to give them clothes or meat._"

LANCEPRES. Come along, wags; let's in a frolic way march to our old friends in new suits, and reserve a screwed look for a threepenny ordinary.

2D OFF. Along, along! but utter not too much language, honest pockets, till a question be asked you.

[_He shakes his pocket._

ALL. Hey for a fee-farm rent in Tunis!

[_Exeunt capering._

SCENE III.

_Enter two_ COUNTRY BOORS.

HUS. Content thee, content thee, Christabel.

WIFE. Yes, surely, that's a trim word; but when, trow you, had I it? As I am an honest woman, I have been this goodman Fumbler's wife so many years, and he never yet gave me content. 'Tis such a dry pilchard, he deserves nothing more than basting.

HUS. Fie, Christabel! fie, for shame! hold thy trattles; is it my fault if thou be barren?

WIFE. Barren, you cods-head! Lies the fault there, you island cur! Nay, all the parish will witness for me that I was not barren before I met with you. Barren, st.i.tchel![175] that shall not serve thy turn. In plain terms, Jocelin, since thou cannot content me one way, thou shalt another.

HUS. What would my duck have?

WIFE. What, my drake, the law will give me.

HUS. Law!

WIFE. Yes, you wizard.[176] I have already fed a glib-tongued parrot, with a coif on his head, that will trounce you.

HUS. What have I done, my malmsey?

WIFE. Nay, your doing nothing, you dumpling, has brought you into this pickle. The short and the long on't is this, I will have ale-money.[177]

HUS. Ale-money! what means my chicken by that?

WIFE. I have been neither so long nor ill taught by my betters, but I know the meaning of ale-money well enough. My land'slady Joculette, G.o.d bless her! is matched to as handsome a frolic youngster as one can see on a summer's day; yet she dislikes him, and has recovered a good stock of ale-money. I love to follow the example of my betters. Set your heart at rest, Jocelin; I must and will have ale-money.

HUS. Thou shalt have anything, my coney Christabel, so thou wilt rest contented.

WIFE. Nay, husband, you know well that I am forced many nights to go to rest weakly contented. But, if I chance to trudge to court, I mean to lie all open; you shall hear. I intend not to lay leaves on my wounds. The duke, I hear, is a merciful man, and will not suffer any of his poor subjects to fall short of their due.

HUS. Well, girl, thou shalt find me ready to appear before his grace at any time.

WIFE. You'll have a gracious bargain on't then, doubtless. Trust me, Jocelin, you will distemper all our ladies at court, if you push at the gate with your ram-horns.

HUS. She's possessed, sure.

WIFE. No, not yet; but I mean shortly to be possessed of my ale-money. You shall play no more the sharking foist with me, you fumbling fiddler, you. I hope I have friends at court that will take course that I may have my whole due; and then _foutre_ for Jocelin!

[_Exit._

HUS. Well, the thought is ta'en. I see one must thank G.o.d for a shrew as well as for a sheep, though the sheep have more wool on his back, and affords a more savoury repast at the board. Hanging and wedding go by destiny, and I hold the former to be the happier destiny of the twain; yet he that will practise the art of swinging in a halter, either to please or cross a shrew's humour, let him hang like a puppy without hope of pity, and die intestate to make his wife heir on't, till some nimble younker become his successor, and, stumbling on his grave, laugh at the cuckoldly slave.

[_Exit._