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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE FAIR MAID OF THE WEST, by THOMAS HEYWOOD Poet's Biography
First Line: Amongst the grecians there were annual feasts
Last Line: The world report thou art a girl worth gold. [exeunt.
First Line: Amongst the grecians there were annual feasts
Last Line: The world report thou art a girl worth gold. [exeunt.
PROLOGUE.
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.
SPENCER,
CARROL, Gentlemen.
FAWCETT.
Captain GOODLACK, SPENCER'S Friend.
ROUGHMAN, 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.
The EARL OF ESSEX, Mute personated.
The Mayor of Plymouth, Mute personated.
SCENE—ENGLAND, THE AZORES, MOROCCO.
ACT THE FIRST.
SCENE I.—A Street in Plymouth.
Enter CARROL and two Captains.
FIRST CAPT. When puts my lord to sea?
2nd Capt. When the wind's fair.
Car. Resolve me, I entreat; can you not guess
The purpose of this voyage?
1st Capt. Most men think
The fleet's bound for the Islands.
Car. Nay, 'tis like.
The great success at Cales, under the conduct
Of such a noble general, hath put heart
Into the English: they are all on fire
To purchase from the Spaniard. If their carracks
Come deeply laden, we shall tug with them
For golden spoil.
2nd Capt. Oh, were it come to that!
1st Capt. How Plymouth swells with gallants; how the streets
Glister with gold! You cannot meet a man
But tricked in scarf and feather, that it seems
As if the pride of England's gallantry
Were harboured here. It doth appear, methinks,
A very court of soldiers.
Car. It doth so.
Where shall we dine to-day?
2nd Capt. At the next tavern by; there's the best wine.
1st Capt. And the best wench, Bess Bridges; she's the flower
Of Plymouth held: the Castle needs no bush,
Her beauty draws to them more gallant customers
Than all the signs i' the town else.
2nd Capt. A sweet lass,
If I have any judgment.
1st Capt. Now, in troth,
I think she's honest.
Car. Honest, and live there!
What, in a public tavern, where's such confluence
Of lusty and brave gallants! Honest, said you?
2nd Capt. I vow she is, for me.
1st Capt. For all, I think.
I'm sure she's wondrous modest.
Car. But withal
Exceeding affable.
2nd Capt. An argument
That she's not proud.
Car. No; were she proud, she'd fall.
1st Capt. Well, she's a most attractive adamant:
Her very beauty hath upheld that house,
And gained her master much.
Car. That adamant
Shall for this time draw me too: we'll dine there.
1nd Capt. No better motion. Come to the Castle then. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.—In front of the Castle Tavern.
Enter SPENCER and Captain GOODLACK.
Good. What, to the old house still?
Spen. Canst blame me, captain?
Believe me, I was never surprised till now,
Or catched upon the sudden.
Good. Pray resolve me;
Why, being a gentleman of fortunes, means,
And well revenued, will you adventure thus
A doubtful voyage, when only such as I,
Born to no other fortunes than my sword,
Should seek abroad for pillage?
Spen. Pillage, captain!
No, 'tis for honour; and the brave society
Of all these shining gallants, that attend
The great lord-general, drew me hither first,
No hope of gain or spoil.
Good. Ay, but what draws you to this house so oft?
Spen. As if thou knew'st it not.
Good. What, Bess?
Spen. Even she.
Good. Come, I must tell you, you forget yourself,
One of your birth and breeding thus to dote
Upon a tanner's daughter! why, her father
Sold hides in Somersetshire, and, being trade-fallen,
Sent her to service.
Spen. Prithee speak no more;
Thou tell'st me that which I would fain forget,
Or wish I had not known. If thou wilt humour me,
Tell me she's fair and honest.
Good. Yes, and loves you.
Spen. To forget that were to exclude the rest:
All saving that were nothing. Come, let's enter. [Exeunt.
SCENE III.—A Room in the Castle Tavern.
Enter SPENCER, Captain GOOLACK, and two Drawers.
1st Draw. You are welcome, gentlemen.—Show them into the next
room
there.
2nd Draw. Look out a towel, and some rolls, a salt and trenchers.
Spen. No, sir, we will not dine.
2nd Draw. I am sure ye would, if you had my stomach. What wine drink
ye, sack or claret?
Spen. Where's Bess?
2nd Draw. Marry, above, with three or four gentlemen.
Spen. Go call her.
2nd Draw. I'll draw you a cup of the neatest wine in Plymouth.
Spen. I'll taste none of your drawing. Go call Bess.
2nd Draw. There's nothing in the mouths of these gallants but "Bess,
Bess."
Spen. What say y', sir?
2nd Draw. Nothing, sir, but I'll go and call her presently.
Spen. Tell her who's here.
2nd Draw. The devil rid her out of the house, for me!
Spen. Say y', sir?
2nd Draw. Nothing but anon, anon, sir.
Enter BESS BRIDGES.
Spen. See, she's come!
Bess. Sweet Master Spencer, y'are a stranger grown. Where have you
been
these three days?
Spen. The last night
I sat up late at game. Here, take this bag,
And lay't up till I call for't.
Bess. Sir, I shall.
Spen. Bring me some wine.
Bess. I know your taste,
And I shall please your palate. [Exit.
Good. Troth, 'tis a pretty soul!
Spen. To thee I will unbosom all my thoughts:
Were her low birth but equal with her beauty,
Here would I fix my thoughts.
Good. You are not mad, sir?
You say you love her.
Spen. Never question that.
Good. Then put her to't; win Opportunity,
She's the best bawd. If, as you say, she loves you,
She can deny you nothing.
Spen. I have proved her
Unto the utmost test; examined her,
Even to a modest force; but all in vain:
She'll laugh, confer, keep company, discourse,
And something more, kiss; but beyond that compass
She no way can be drawn.
Good. 'Tis a virtue
But seldom found in taverns.
Re-enter BESS, with wine.
Bess. 'Tis of the best Graves wine, sir.
Spen. Gramercy, girl: come sit.
Bess. Pray pardon, sir, I dare not.
Spen. I'll ha' it so.
Bess. My fellows love me not, and will complain
Of such a saucy boldness.
Spen. Pox on your fellows!
I'll try whether their pottle-pots or heads
Be harder, if I do but hear them grumble.
Sit: now, Bess, drink to me.
Bess. To your good voyage! [Drinks.
Re-enter 2nd Drawer.
2nd Draw. Did you call, sir?
Spen. Yes, sir, to have your absence. Captain, this health.
Good. Let it come, sir.
2nd Draw. Must you be set, and we wait, with a_____!
Spen. What say you, sir?
2nd Draw. Anon, anon: I come there. [Exit.
Spen. What will you venture, Bess, to sea with me?
Bess. What I love best, my heart: for I could wish
I had been born to equal you in fortune,
Or you so low, to have been ranked with me;
I could have then presumed boldly to say,
I love none but my Spencer.
Spen. Bess, I thank thee.
Keep still that hundred pound till my return
From the Islands with my lord: if never, wench,
Take it; it is thine own.
Bess. You bind me to you.
Re-enter Ist Drawer.
1st Draw. Bess, you must fill some wine into the Portcullis; the
gentlemen there will drink none but of your drawing.
Spen. She shall not rise, sir. Go, let your master snick-up.
1st Draw. And that should be cousin-german to the hick-up.
Re-enter 2nd Drawer.
2nd Draw. Bess, you must needs come. The gentlemen fling pots,
pottles,
drawers, and all down stairs.
The whole house is in an uproar.
Bess. Pray pardon, sir; I needs must be gone.
2nd Draw. The gentlemen swear if she come not up to them, they will
come down to her.
Spen. If they come in peace,
Like civil gentlemen, they may be welcome:
If otherwise, let them usurp their pleasures.
We stand prepared for both.
Enter CARROL and the two Captains.
Car. Save you, gallants! We are somewhat bold, to press
Into your company: it may be held scarce manners;
Therefore, 'tis fit that we should crave your pardon.
Spen. Sir, you are welcome; so are your friends.
1st Capt. Some wine!
Bess. Pray give me leave to fill it.
Spen. You shall not stir. So, please you, we'll join company.—
Drawer, more stools.
Car. I take't that's a she drawer. Are you of the house?
Bess. I am, sir.
Car. In what place?
Bess. I draw.
Car. Beer, do you not? You are some tapstress.
Spen. Sir, the worst character you can bestow
Upon the maid is to draw wine.
Car. She would draw none to us.
Perhaps she keeps a rundlet for your taste,
Which none but you must pierce.
2nd Cap. I pray be civil.
Spen. I know not, gentlemen, what your intents be,
Nor do I fear, or care. This is my room;
And if you bear you, as you seem in show,
Like gentlemen, sit and be sociable.
Car. We will.— [to BESS.] Minx, by your leave.
Remove, I say.
Spen. She shall not stir.
Car. How, sir?
Spen. No, sir. Could you outface the devil,
We do not fear your roaring.
Car. Though you may be companion with a drudge,
It is not fit she should have place by us.—
About your business, housewife.
Spen. She is worthy
The place as the best here, and she shall keep't.
Car. You lie.
[They draw and justle: CARROL is slain.
Good. The gentleman's slain: away!
Bess. O, Heaven! what have you done?
Good. Undone thyself, and me too. Come away.
[Exeunt GOODLACK and SPENCER.
Bess. Oh, sad misfortune! I shall lose him ever.
What! are you men, or milksops? Stand you still,
Senseless as stones, and see your friend in danger
To expire his last?
1st Capt. Tush! all our help's in vain.
2nd Capt. This is the fruit of whores;
This mischief came through thee.
Bess. It grew first from your incivility.
1st Capt. Lend me a hand, to lift his body hence.
It was a fatal business.
[Exeunt the Captains, bearing the body.
Re-enter the two Drawers.
1st Draw. One call my master, another fetch the constable. Here's a
man
killed in the room.
2nd Draw. How! a man killed, say'st thou? Is all paid?
1st Draw. How fell they out, canst thou tell?
2nd Draw. Sure, about this bold Bettrice. 'Tis not so much for the
death of the man, but how shall we come by our reckoning? [Exeunt Drawers.
Bess. What shall become of me? Of all lost creatures,
The most infortunate! My innocence
Hath been the cause of blood, and I am now
Purpled with murder, though not within compass
Of the law's severe censure: but, which most
Adds unto my affliction, I by this
Have lost so worthy and approved a friend,
Whom to redeem from exile, I would give
All that's without and in me.
Enter FAWCETT.
Faw. Your name's Bess Bridges?
Bess. An unfortunate maid,
Known by that name too well in Plymouth, here.
Your business, sir, with me?
Faw. Know you this ring?
Bess. I do: it is my Spencer's.
I know, withal, you are his trusty friend,
To whom he would commit it. Speak: how fares he?
Is he in freedom, know ye?
Faw. He's in health
Of body, though in mind somewhat perplexed
For this late mischief happened.
Bess. Is he fled,
And freed from danger?
Faw. Neither. By this token
He lovingly commends him to you, Bess,
And prays you, when 'tis dark, meet him o' th' Hoe,
Near to the new-made fort, where he'll attend you,
Before he flies, to take a kind farewell.
There's only Goodlack in his company:
He entreats you not to fail him.
Bess. Tell him from me, I'll come, I'll run, I'll fly,
Stand death before me; were I sure to die. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.—The Hoe.
Enter SPENCER and Captain GOODLACK.
Good. You are too full of passion.
To have the guilt of murder burden me;
And next, my life in hazard to a death
So ignominious; last, to lose a love.
Spen. Canst thou blame me,
So sweet, so fair, so amorous, and so chaste,
And all these at an instant! Art thou sure
Carrol is dead?
Good. I can believe no less.
You hit him in the very speeding place.
Spen. Oh! but the last of these sits near'st my heart.
Good. Sir, be advised by me:
Try her, before you trust her. She, perchance,
May take the advantage of your hopeful fortunes;
But when she finds you subject to distress
And casualty, her flattering love may die,
Your hopes deceased.
Spen. Thou counsell'st well.
I'll put her to the test and utmost trial,
Before I trust her further. Here she comes.
Enter FAWCETT, and BESS with a bag.
Faw. I have done my message, sir.
Bess. Fear not, sweet Spencer; we are now alone,
And thou art sanctuarèd in these mine arms.
Good. While these confer, we'll sentinel their safety.
This place I'll guard.
Faw. I this.
Bess. Are you not hurt,
Or your skin rased with his offensive steel?
How is it with you?
Spen. Bess, all my afflictions
Are that I must leave thee: thou know'st, withal,
My extreme necessity, and that the fear
Of a most scandalous death doth force me hence.
I am not near my country; and to stay
For new supply from thence might deeply engage me
To desperate hazard.
Bess. Is it coin you want?
Here is the hundred pound you gave me late:
Use that, beside what I have stored and saved,
Which makes it fifty more. Were it ten thousand,
Nay, a whole million, Spencer, all were thine.
Spen. No; what thou hast, keep still; 'tis all thine own.
Here be my keys: my trunks take to thy charge:
Such gold fit for transportage as I have,
I'll bear along: the rest are freely thine.
Money, apparel, and what else thou find'st,
Perhaps worth my bequest and thy receiving,
I make thee mistress of.
Bess. Before, I doted;
But now you strive to have me ecstasied.
What would you have me do, in which to express
My zeal to you?
Spen. I enjoin thee to keep
Ever my picture, which in my chamber hangs;
For when thou part'st with that, thou losest me.
Bess. My soul may from my body be divorced,
But never that from me.
Spen. I have a house in Foy, a tavern called
The Windmill; that I freely give thee, too;
And thither, if I live, I'll send to thee.
Bess. So soon as I have cast my reckonings up
And made even with my master, I'll not fail
To visit Foy, in Cornwall. Is there else
Aught that you will enjoin me?
Spen. Thou art fair:
Join to thy beauty virtue. Many suitors
I know will tempt thee: beauty's a shrewd bait,
But unto that if thou add'st chastity,
Thou shalt o'ercome all scandal. Time calls hence;
We now must part.
Bess. Oh, that I had the power to make Time lame,
To stay the stars, or make the moon stand still,
That future day might never haste thy flight!
I could dwell here for ever in thine arms,
And wish it always night.
Spen. We trifle hours. Farewell!
Bess. First take this ring:
'Twas the first token of my constant love
That passed betwixt us. When I see this next,
And not my Spencer, I shall think thee dead;
For, till death part thy body from thy soul,
I know thou wilt not part with it.
Spen. Swear for me, Bess; for thou mayst safely do't.
Once more, farewell: at Foy thou shalt hear from me
Bess. There's not a word that hath a parting sound
Which through mine ears shrills not immediate death.
I shall not live to lose thee.
Faw. Best be gone;
For hark, I hear some tread.
Spen. A thousand farewells are in one contracted.
Captain, away! [Exeunt SPENCER and GOODLACK.
Bess. Oh! I shall die.
Faw. What mean you, Bess? will you betray your friend,
Or call my name in question? Sweet, look up.
Bess. Ha, is my Spencer gone?
Faw. With speed towards Foy,
There to take ship for Fayal.
Bess. Let me recollect myself,
And what he left in charge—virtue and chastity;
Next, with all sudden expedition
Prepare for Foy: all these will I conserve,
And keep them strictly, as I would my life.
Plymouth, farewell: in Cornwall I will prove
A second fortune, and for ever mourn,
Until I see my Spencer's safe return. [Exeunt.
SCENE V.—The same.
Hautboys. A dumb show. Enter General, Captains and the Mayor of
Plymouth. At the other side petitioners with papers; amongst these the
Drawers. The General gives them bags of money. All go off, saving the
two Drawers.
1st Draw. 'Tis well that we have gotten all the money due to my
master.
It is the commonest thing that can be, for these captains to score and
to score;
but when the scores are to be paid, non est inventus.
2nd Draw. 'Tis ordinary amongst gallants, now-a-days, who had rather
swear forty oaths than only this one oath—"God, let me never be trusted!"
1st Draw. But if the captains would follow the noble mind of the
general, before night there would not be one score owing in Plymouth.
2nd Draw. Little knows Bess that my master hath got in these
desperate
debts. But she hath cast up her account, and is gone.
1st Draw. Whither, canst thou tell?
2nd Draw. They say, to keep a tavern in Foy, and that Master Spencer
hath given her a stock, to set up for herself. Well, howsoever, I am glad,
though he killed the man, we have got our money. [Exeunt.
ACT THE SECOND.
SCENE 1.—Foy. The Windmill Tavern.
Enter FAWCETT and ROUGHMAN.
FAW. In your time have you seen a sweeter creature?
Rough. Some week, or thereabouts.
Faw. And in that time she hath almost undone all the other taverns:
the
gallants make no rendezvous now but at the Windmill.
Rough. Spite of them, I'll have her. It shall cost me the setting
on,
but I'll have her.
Faw. Why, do you think she is so easily won?
Rough. Easily or not, I'll bid as fair and far as any man within
twenty
miles of my head, but I will put her to the squeak.
Faw. They say there are knights' sons already come as suitors to her.
Rough. 'Tis like enough, some younger brothers, and so I intend to
make
them.
Faw. If these doings hold, she will grow rich in short time.
Rough. There shall be doings that shall make this Windmill my grand
seat, my mansion, my palace, and my Constantinople.
Enter BESS BRIDGES and CLEM.
Faw. Here she comes. Observe how modestly she bears herself.
Rough. I must know of what burden this vessel is. I shall not bear wit
h
her till she bear with me; and till then I cannot report her for a woman of
good
carriage.
[ROUGHMAN and FAWCETT move aside.
Bess. Your old master, that dwelt here before my coming, hath turned ove
r
your years to me.
Clem. Right, forsooth: before he was a vintner, he was a shoemaker,
and
left two or three turnovers more besides myself.
Bess. How long hast thou to serve?
Clem. But eleven years, next grass, and then I am in hope of my
freedom; for by that time I shall be at full age.
Bess. How old art thou now?
Clem. Forsooth, newly come into my teens. I have scraped trenchers
this
two years, and the next vintage I hope to be bar-boy.
Bess. What's thy name?
Clem. My name is Clem: my father was a baker; and, by the report
of his
neighbours, as honest as man as ever lived by bread.
Bess. And where dwelt he?
Clem. Below here, in the next crooked street, at the sign of the Leg.
He was nothing so tall as I; but a little wee man, and somewhat huck-backed.
Bess. He was once constable?
Clem. He was, indeed; and in that one year of his reign, I have heard
them say, he bolted and sifted out more business than others in that office in
many years before him.
Bess. How long is't since he died?
Clem. Marry, the last dear year; for when corn grew to be at a high
rate, my father never doughed after.
Bess. I think I have heard of him.
Clem. Then I am sure you have heard he was an honest neighbour, and
one
that never loved to be meal-mouthed.
Bess. Well, sirrah, prove an honest servant, and you shall find me
your
good mistress. What company is in the Mermaid?
Clem. There be four sea-captains. I believe they be little better
than
pirates, they be so flush of their ruddocks.
Bess. No matter; we will take no note of them:
Here they vent many brave commodities,
By which some gain accrues. They're my good customers,
And still return me profit.
Clem. Wot you what, mistress, how the two sailors would have
served me,
that called for the pound and a half of cheese?
Bess. How was it, Clem?
Clem. When I brought them a reckoning, they would have had
me to have
scored it up. They took me for a simple gull, indeed, that would
have had me to
have taken chalk for cheese.
Bess. Well, go wait upon the captains: see them want no wine.
Clem. Nor reckoning neither, take my word, mistress.
Rough. She's now at leisure; I'll to her.—
[Coming forward.
Lady, what gentlemen are those above?
Bess. Sir, they are such as please to be my guests,
And they are kindly welcome.
Rough. Give me their names.
Bess. You may go search the church-book where they were christened:
There you perhaps may learn them.
Rough. Minion, how!
Faw. Fie, fie! you are too rude with this fair creature,
That no way seeks to offend you.
Bess. Pray, hands off!
Rough. I tell thee, maid, wife, or whate'er thou beest,
No man shall enter here but by my leave.
Come, let's be more familiar.
Bess. 'Las, good man!
Rough. Why, know'st thou whom thou slightest? I am Roughman,
The only approved gallant of these parts,
A man of whom the roarers stand in awe,
And must not be put off.
Bess. I never yet heard man so praise himself.
But proved in the end a coward.
Rough. Coward, Bess!
You will offend me, raise in me that fury
Your beauty cannot calm. Go to; no more.
Your language is too harsh and peremptory;
Pray let me hear no more on't. I tell thee
That quiet day scarce passed me these seven years
I have not cracked a weapon in some fray,
And will you move my spleen?
Faw. What, threat a woman?
Bess. Sir, if you thus persist to wrong my house,
Disturb my guests, and nightly domineer,
To put my friends from patience, I'll complain
And right myself before the magistrate.
Can we not live in compass of the law,
But must be swaggered out on't?
Rough. Go to, wench:
I wish thee well; think on't, there's good for thee
Stored in my breast; and when I come in place,
I must have no man to offend mine eye:
My love can brook no rivals. For this time
I am content your captains shall have peace
But must not be used to it.
Bess. Sir, if you come
Like other free and civil gentlemen,
You're welcome; otherwise my doors are barred you.
Rough. That's my good girl.
I have fortunes laid up for thee: what I have,
Command it as thine own. Go to; be wise.
Bess. Well, I shall study for't.
Rough. Consider on't. Farewell.
[Exeunt ROUGHMAN and FAWCETT.
Bess. My mind suggests me that this prating fellow
Is some notorious coward. If he persist,
I have a trick to try what metal's in him.
Re-enter CLEM.
What news with you?
Clem. I am now going to carry the captains a reckoning.
Bess. And what's the sum?
Clem. Let me see—eight shillings and sixpence.
Bess. How can you make that good? Write them a bill.
Clem. I'll watch them for that; 'tis no time of night to use our
bills.
The gentlemen are no dwarfs; and with one word of my mouth I can tell
them what
is to be-tall.
Bess. How comes it to so much?
Clem. Imprimis, six quarts of wine, at sevenpence the quart, seven
sixpence.
Bess. Why dost thou reckon it so?
Clem. Because, as they came in by hab nab, so I will bring them in a
reckoning at six and at sevens.
Bess. Well, wine, three shillings and sixpence.
Clem. And what wants that of ten groats?
Bess. 'Tis twopence over.
Clem. Then put sixpence more to it, and make it four shillings wine,
though you bate it them in their meat.
Bess. Why so, I prithee?
Clem. Because of the old proverb, "What they want in meat, let them
take out in drink." Then, for twelve pennyworth, of anchoves, eighteenpence.
Bess. How can that be?
Clem. Marry, very well, mistress: twelvepence anchoves, and sixpence
oil and vinegar. Nay, they shall have a saucy reckoning.
Bess. And what for the other half-crown?
Clem. Bread, beer, salt, napkins, trenchers, one thing with another;
so
the summa totalis is eight shillings and sixpence.
Bess. Well, take the reckoning from the bar.
Clem. What needs that, forsooth? The gentlemen seem to be high-flown
already. Send them in but another pottle of sack, and they will cast up the
reckoning of themselves. Yes, I'll about it. [Exit.
Bess. Were I not with so many suitors pestered,
And might I enjoy my Spencer, what a sweet,
Contented life were this! for money flows,
And my gain's great. But to my Roughman next.
I have a trick to try what spirit's in him.
It shall be my next business; in this passion
For my dear Spencer, I propose me this:
'Mongst many sorrows, some mirth's not amiss. [Exit.
SCENE II.—Fayal.
Enter SPENCER and Captain GOODLACK.
Good. What were you thinking, sir?
Spen. Troth, of the world: what any man should see in't to be in love
with it.
Good. The reason of your meditation?
Spen. To imagine that in the same instant that one forfeits all his
estate, another enters upon a rich possession. As one goes to the church to be
married, another is hurried to the gallows to be hanged; the last having no
feeling of the first man's joy, nor the first of the last man's misery. At the
same time that one lies tortured upon the rack, another lies tumbling with his
mistress over head and ears in down and feathers. This when I truly consider,
I
cannot but wonder why any fortune should make a man ecstasied.
Good. You give yourself too much to melancholy.
Spen. These are my maxims; and were they as faithfully practised by
others as truly apprehended by me, we should have less oppression, and more
charity.
Enter the two Captains.
1st Capt. Make good thy words.
2nd Capt. I say, thou hast injured me.
1st Capt. Tell me wherein.
2nd Capt. When we assaulted Fayal,
And I had, by the general's command,
The onset, and with danger of my person
Enforced the Spaniard to a swift retreat,
And beat them from their fort, thou, when thou saw'st
All fear and danger past, madest up with me,
To share that honour which was sole mine own,
And never ventured shot for't, or e'er came
Where bullet grazed.
Spen. See, captain, a gray towards;
Let's, if we can, atone this difference.
Good. Content.
1st Capt. I'll prove it with my sword,
That though thou hadst the foremost place in field,
And I the second, yet my company
Was equal in the entry of the fort.
My sword was that day drawn as soon as thine,
And that poor honour which I won that day
Was but my merit.
2nd Capt. Wrong me palpably
And justify the same!
Spen. You shall not fight.
1st Capt. Why, sir, who made you first a justicer,
And taught you that word "shall?" You are no general;
Or, if you be, pray show us your commission.
Spen. Sir, I have no commission but my counsel,
And that I'll show you freely.
2nd Capt. 'Tis some chaplain.
1st Capt. I do not like his text.
Good. Let's beat their weapons down.
1st Capt. I'll aim at him that offers to divide us!
[They fight.
2nd Capt. Pox of these part-frays! see, I am wounded,
By beating down my weapon.
Good. How fares my friend?
Spen. You sought for blood, and, gentlemen, you have it.
Let mine appease you: I am hurt to death.
1st Capt. My rage converts to pity, that this gentleman
Shall suffer for his goodness.
Good. Noble friend,
I will revenge thy death.
Spen. He is no friend
That murmurs such a thought.—Oh, gentlemen,
I killed a man in Plymouth, and by you
Am slain in Fayal. Carrol fell by me,
And I fall by a Spencer. Heaven is just,
And will not suffer murder unrevenged.
Heaven pardon me, as I forgive you both!
Shift for yourselves: away!
2nd Capt. We saw him die,
But grieve you should so perish.
Spen. Note Heaven's justice,
And henceforth make that use on't—I shall faint.
1st Capt. Short farewells now must serve. If thou survivest,
Live to thine honour; but if thou expirest
Heaven take thy soul to mercy! [Exeunt Captains.
Spen. I bleed much;
I must go seek a surgeon.
Good. Sir, how cheer you?
Spen. Like one that's bound upon a new adventure
To the other world; yet thus much, worthy friend,
Let me entreat you: since I understand
The fleet is bound for England, take your occasion
To ship yourself, and when you come to Foy,
Kindly commend me to my dearest Bess:
Thou shalt receive a will, in which I have
Possessed her of five hundred pounds a year.
Good. A noble legacy.
Spen. The rest I have bestowed amongst my friends,
Only reserving a bare hundred pounds,
To see me honestly and well interred.
Good. I shall perform your trust as carefully
As to my father, breathed he.
Spen. Mark me, captain;
Her legacy I give with this proviso:
If, at thy arrival where my Bess remains,
Thou find'st her well reported, free from scandal,
My will stands firm; but if thou hear'st her branded
For loose behaviour, or immodest life,
What she should have, I here bestow on thee;
It is thine own: but, as thou lovest thy soul,
Deal faithfully betwixt my Bess and me.
Good. Else let me die a prodigy.
Spen. This ring was hers; that, be she loose or chaste,
Being her own, restore her: she will know it;
And doubtless she deserves it. O my memory!
What had I quite forgot? She hath my picture.
Good. And what of that?
Spen. If she be ranked among the loose and lewd,
Take it away: I hold it much indecent
A whore should ha't in keeping; but if constant,
Let her enjoy it. This my will perform,
As thou art just and honest.
Good. Sense else forsake me.
Spen. Now lead me to my chamber. All's made even—
My peace with earth, and my atone with Heaven.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.—A Field near Foy.
Enter BESS BRIDGES, like a Page, with a sword; and CLEM.
Bess. But that I know my mother to be chaste,
I'd swear some soldier got me.
Clem. It may be many a soldier's buff jerkin came out of your
father's
tan-vat.
Bess. Methinks I have a manly spirit in me,
In this man's habit.
Clem. Now, am not I of many men's minds; for, if you should do me
wrong, I should not kill you, though I took you pissing against a wall.
Bess. Methinks I could be valiant on the sudden,
And meet a man i' the field.
I could do all that I have heard discoursed
Of Mary Ambree, or Westminster's Long Meg.
Clem. What Mary Ambree was I cannot tell; but unless you were taller,
you will come short of Long Meg.
Bess. Of all thy fellows, thee I only trust,
And charge thee to be secret.
Clem. I am bound in my indentures to keep my master's secrets; and
should I find a man in bed with you, I would not tell.
Bess. Begone, sir; but no words, as you esteem my favour.
Clem. But, mistress, I could wish you to look to your long seams;
fights are dangerous. But am not I in a sweet taking, think you?
Bess. I prithee, why?
Clem. Why, if you should swagger and kill anybody,
I, being a vintner, should be called to the bar. [Exit.
Bess. Let none condemn me of immodesty,
Because I try the courage of a man,
Who on my soul's a coward, beats my servants,
Cuffs them, and, as they pass by him, kicks my maids;
Nay, domineers over me, making himself
Lord o'er my house and household. Yesternight
I heard him make appointment on some business
To pass alone this way. I'll venture fair,
But I will try what's in him.
Enter ROUGHMAN and FAWCETT.
Faw. Sir, I can now no farther; weighty business
Calls me away.
Rough. Why, at your pleasure, then.
Yet I could wish that ere I passed this field
That I could meet some Hector, so your eyes
Might witness what myself have oft repeated,
Namely, that I am valiant.
Faw. Sir, no doubt;
But now I am in haste. Farewell. [Exit.
Rough. How many times brave words bear out a man!
For if he can but make a noise, he's feared.
To talk of frays, although he ne'er had heart
To face a man in field, that's a brave fellow.
I have been valiant, I must needs confess,
In street and tavern, where there have been men
Ready to part the fray; but for the fields,
They are too cold to fight in.
Bess. You are a villain, a coward; and you lie.
[Strikes him.
Rough. You wrong me, I protest. Sweet, courteous gentleman,
I never did you wrong.
Bess. Wilt tell me that?
Draw forth thy coward sword, and suddenly,
Or, as I am a man, I'll run thee through,
And leave thee dead i' the field.
Rough. Hold! as you are a gentleman.
I have ta'en an oath I will not fight to-day.
Bess. Th'ast took a blow already, and the lie:
Will not both these enrage thee?
Rough. No; would you give the bastinado too,
I will not break mine oath.
Bess. Oh! your name's Roughman:
No day doth pass you, but you hurt or kill!
Is this out of your calendar?
Rough. I! you are deceived.
I ne'er drew sword in anger, I protest,
Unless it were upon some poor, weak fellow,
That ne'er wore steel about him.
Bess. Throw your sword.
Rough. Here, sweet young sir; but, as you are a gentleman, [Gives
up
his sword.
Do not impair mine honour.
Bess. Tie that shoe.
Rough. I shall, sir.
Bess. Untruss that point.
Rough. Any thing, this day, to save mine oath.
Bess. Enough;—yet not enough. Lie down,
Till I stride o'er thee.
Rough. Sweet sir, any thing,
Bess. Rise, thou hast leave. Now, Roughman, thou art blest:
This day thy life is saved; look to the rest.
Take back thy sword.
Rough. Oh! you are generous: honour me so much
As let me know to whom I owe my life.
Bess. I am Bess Bridges' brother.
Rough. Still methought
That you were something like her.
Bess. And I have heard
You domineer and reveal in her house,
Control her servants, and abuse her guests,
Which if I ever shall hereafter hear,
Thou art but a dead man.
Rough. She never told me of a brother living;
But you have power to sway me.
Bess. But for I see you are a gentleman,
I am content this once to let you pass;
But if I find you fall into relapse,
The second's far more dangerous.
Rough. I shall fear it.
Sir, will you take the wine?
Bess. I am for London,
And for these two terms cannot make return;
But if you see my sister, you may say
I was in health.
Rough. Too well: the devil take you! [Aside.
Bess. Pray, use her well, and at my coming back
I'll ask for your acquaintance. Now, farewell. [Exit.
Rough. None saw't: he's gone for London; I am unhurt;
Then who shall publish this disgrace abroad?
One man's no slander, should he speak his worst.
My tongue's as loud as his; but in this country
Both of more fame and credit. Should we contest,
I can outface the proudest. This is, then,
My comfort. Roughman, thou art still the same,
For a disgrace not seen is held no shame. [Exit.
SCENE IV.—Fayal.
Enter two Sailors.
1st Sail. Aboard, aboard! the wind stands fair for England;
The ships have all weighed anchor.
2nd Sail. A stiff gale
Blows from the shore.
Enter Captain GOODLACK.
Good. The sailors call aboard, and I am forced
To leave my friend now at the point of death,
And cannot close his eyes. Here is the will.
Now may I find you tanner's daughter turned
Unchaste or wanton, I shall gain by it
Five hundred pounds a year. Here is good evidence.
1st Sail. Sir, will you take the long-boat and aboard?
Enter a third Sailor.
Good. With all my heart.
3rd Sail. What, are you ready, mates?
1st Sail. We stayed for you. Thou canst not tell who's dead?
The great bell rung out now.
3rd Sail. They say 'twas for one Spencer, who this night
Died of a mortal wound.
Good. My worthy friend:
Unhappy man, that cannot stay behind,
To do him his last rites!—Was his name Spencer?
3rd Sail. Yes, sir; a gentleman of good account,
And well known in the navy.
Good. This is the end of all mortality.
It will be news unpleasing to his Bess.
I cannot fare amiss, but long to see
Whether these lands belong to her or me.
Enter SPENCER and Surgeon.
Sur. Nay, fear not, sir: now you have scaped this dressing,
My life for yours.
Spen. I thank thee, honest friend.
Sur. Sir, I can tell you news.
Spen. What is't, I prithee?
Sur. There is a gentleman, one of your name,
That died within this hour.
Spen. My name! What was he? Of what sickness died he?
Sur. No sickness, but a slight hurt in the body,
Which showed at first no danger, but, being searched,
He died at the third dressing.
Spen. At my third search I am in hope of life.
The Heavens are merciful.
Sur. Sir, doubt not your recovery.
Spen. That hundred pound I had prepared to expend
Upon mine own expected funeral,
I for name-sake will now bestow on his.
Sur. A noble resolution.
Spen. What ships are bound for England? I would gladly
Venture to sea, though weak.
Sur. All bound that way are under sail already.
Spen. Here's no security;
For when the beaten Spaniards shall return,
They'll spoil whom they can find.
Sur. We have a ship,
Of which I am surgeon, that belongs unto
A London merchant, now bound for Mamorah,
A town in Barbary; please you to use that,
You shall command free passage: ten months hence,
We hope to visit England.
Spen. Friend, I thank thee.
Sur. I'll bring you to the master, who I know
Will entertain you gladly.
Spen. When I have seen the funeral rites performed
To the dead body of my countryman
And kinsman, I will take your courteous offer.
England, no doubt, will hear news of my death;
How Bess will take it is to me unknown.
On her behaviour I will build my fate,
There raise my love, or thence erect my hate. [Exeunt.
ACT THE THIRD.
SCENE I.—Foy. A Street outside the Windmill Tavern.
Enter ROUGHMAN and FAWCETT.
ROUGH. Oh! you're well met. Just as I prophesied,
So it fell out.
Faw. As how, I pray?
Rough. Had you but stayed the crossing of one field,
You had beheld a Hector, the boldest Trojan
That ever Roughman met with.
Faw. Pray, what was he?
Rough. You talk of Little Davy, Cutting Dick,
And divers such; but tush! this hath no fellow.
Faw. Of what stature and years was he?
Rough. Indeed, I must confess he was no giant,
Nor above fifty; but he did bestir him—
Was here, and there, and everywhere, at once,
That I was ne'er so put to't since the midwife
First wrapped my head in linen. Let's to Bess:
I'll tell her the whole project.
Faw. Here's the house:
We'll enter, if you please. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.—A Room in the Tavern.
Enter ROUGHMAN and FAWCETT.
Rough. Where be these drawers—rascals, I should say—
That will give no attendance?
Enter CLEM.
Clem. Anon, anon, sir: please you see a room? What, you here, again!
Now we shall have such roaring!
Rough. You, sirrah, call your mistress.
Clem. Yes, sir, I know it is my duty to call her mistress.
Rough. See an the slave will stir!
Clem. Yes, I do stir.
Rough. Shall we have humours, sauce-box? You have ears;
I'll teach you prick-song.
Clem. But you have now a wrong sow by the ear. I will call her.
Rough. Do, sir; you had best.
Clem. If you were twenty Roughmans, if you lug me by the ears again,
I'll draw.
Rough. Ha! what will you draw?
Clem. The best wine in the house for your worship; and I would call
her, but I can assure you that she is either not stirring, or else not in
case.
Rough. How not in case?
Clem. I think she hath not her smock on; for I think
I saw it lie at her bed's head.
Rough. What! drawers grow capricious?
Clem. Help! help!
Enter BESS BRIDGES.
Bess. What uproar's this? Shall we be never rid
From these disturbances?
Rough. Why, how now, Bess?
Is this your housewifery? When you are mine,
I'll have you rise as early as the lark.
Look to the bar yourself; these lazy rascals
Will bring your state behindhand.
Clem. You lie, sir.
Rough. How! lie!
Clem. Yes, sir, at the Raven in the High Street. I was at your
lodging
this morning for a pottle-pot.
Rough. You will about your business: must you here
Stand gaping and idle? [Strikes him.
Bess. You wrong me, sir,
And tyrannize too much over my servants.
I will have no man touch them but myself.
Clem. If I do not put ratsbane into his wine, instead of
sugar, say I
am no true baker. [Exit.
Rough. What! rise at noon?
A man may fight a tall fray in a morning,
And one of your best friends, too, be hacked and mangled,
And almost cut to pieces, and you fast,
Close in your bed, ne'er dream on't.
Bess. Fought you this day?
Rough. And ne'er was better put to't in my days.
Bess. I pray, how was't?
Rough. Thus. As I passed yon fields_____
Enter Kitchenmaid.
Maid. I pray, forsooth, what shall I reckon for the jowl of ling in th
e
Portcullis?
Rough. A pox upon your jowls, you kitchen-stuff!
Go, scour your skillets, pots, and dripping-pans,
And interrupt not us. [Kicks at her.
Maid. The devil take your ox-heels, you foul cod's-head! must you be
kicking?
Rough. Minion! dare you scold?
Maid. Yes, sir; and lay my ladle over your coxcomb.
[Exit.
Bess. I do not think that thou darest strike a man
That swagger'st thus o'er women.
Rough. How now, Bess?
Bess. Shall we be never quiet?
Faw. You are too rude.
Rough. Now I profess all patience.
Bess. Then proceed.
Rough. Rising up early, minion, whilst you slept,
To cross yon field, I had but newly parted
With this my friend, but that I soon espied
A gallant fellow, and most strongly armed:
In the mid-field we met, and, both being resolute,
We justled for the wall.
Bess. Why, did there stand a wall in the mid-field?
Rough. I meant, strove for the way.
Two such brave spirits meeting, straight both drew.
Re-enter CLEM.
Clem. The maid, forsooth, sent me to know whether you would have the
shoulder of mutton roasted or sod.
Rough. A mischief on your shoulders! [Strikes him.
Clem. That's the way to make me never prove good porter.
Bess. You still heap wrongs on wrongs.
Rough. I was in fury,
To think upon the violence of that fight,
And could not stay my rage.
Faw. Once more proceed.
Rough. Oh! had you seen two tilting meteors justle
In the mid-region, with like fear and fury
We too encountered. Not Briareus
Could with his hundred hands have struck more thick:
Blows came about my head,—I took them still;
Thrusts by my sides, 'twixt body and my arms,—
Yet still I put them by.
Bess. When they were past, he put them by.—Go on.
But in this fury, what became of him?
Rough. I think I paid him home: he's soundly mauled.
I bosomed him at every second thrust.
Bess. Scaped he with life?
Rough. Ay, that's my fear. If he recover this,
I'll never trust my sword more.
Bess. Why fly you not, if he be in such danger?
Rough. Because a witch once told me
I ne'er should die for murder.
Bess. I believe thee.
But tell me, pray, was not this gallant fellow
A pretty, fair, young youth, about my years?
Rough. Even thereabout.
Clem. He was not fifty, then.
Bess. Much of my stature?
Rough. Much about your pitch.
Clem. He was no giant, then.
Bess. And wore a suit like this?
Rough. I half suspect.
Bess. That gallant fellow,
So wounded and so mangled, was myself.
You base, white-livered slave! it was this shoe
That thou stooped to untie; untrussed those points;
And, like a beastly coward, lay along
Till I strid over thee. Speak; was't not so?
Rough. It cannot be denied.
Bess. Hare-hearted fellow! milksop! Dost not blush?
Give me that rapier: I will make thee swear
Thou shalt redeem this scorn thou hast incurred,
Or in this woman shape I'll cudgel thee,
And beat thee through the streets. As I am Bess, I'll do't.
Rough. Hold, hold! I swear.
Bess. Dare not to enter at my door till then.
Rough. Shame confounds me quite.
Bess. That shame redeem, perhaps we'll do thee grace;
I love the valiant, but despise the base. [Exit.
Clem. Will you be kicked, sir?
Rough. She hath wakened me,
And kindled that dead fire of courage in me
Which all this while hath slept. To spare my flesh
And wound my fame, what is't? I will not rest,
Till by some valiant deed I have made good
All my disgraces past. I'll cross the street,
And strike the next brave fellow that I meet.
Faw. I am bound to see the end on't
Rough. Are you, sir? [Beats off FAWCETT. Exeunt.
SCENE III.—A Street in Foy.
Enter the Mayor of Foy, an Alderman, and Servant.
Mayor. Believe me, sir, she bears herself so well,
No man can justly blame her; and I wonder,
Being a single woman as she is,
And living in a house of such resort,
She is no more distasted.
Ald. The best gentlemen
The country yields become her daily guests.
Sure, sir, I think she's rich.
Mayor. Thus much I know: would I could buy her state,
Were't for a brace of thousands! [A shot within.
Ald. 'Twas said a ship is now put into harbour:
Know whence she is.
Serv. I'll bring news from the quay. [Exit.
Mayor. To tell you true, sir, I could wish a match
Betwixt her and mine own and only son;
And stretch my purse, too, upon that condition.
Ald. Please you, I'll motion it.
Re-enter Servant.
Serv. One of the ships is new come from the Islands;
The greatest man of note's one Captain Goodlack.
It is but a small vessel.
Enter Captain GOODLACK and Sailors.
Good. I'll meet you straight at the Windmill.
Not one word of my name.
1st Sail. We understand you.
Mayor. Sir, 'tis told us you came late from the Islands.
Good. I did so.
Mayor. Pray, sir, the news from thence?
Good. The best is, that the general is in health,
And Fayal won from the Spaniards; but the fleet,
By reason of so many dangerous tempests,
Extremely weather-beaten. You, sir, I take it,
Are mayor o' the town.
Mayor. I am the king's lieutenant.
Good. I have some letters of import from one,
A gentleman of very good account,
That died late in the Islands, to a maid
That keeps a tavern here.
Mayor. Her name Bess Bridges?
Good. The same. I was desired to make inquiry
What fame she bears, and what report she's of.
Now, you, sir, being here chief magistrate,
Can best resolve me.
Mayor. To our understanding
She's without stain or blemish, well reputed;
And, by her modesty and fair demeanour,
Hath won the love of all.
Good. The worse for me. [Aside.
Ald. I can assure you, many narrow eyes
Have looked on her and her condition;
But those that with most envy have endeavoured
To entrap her, have returned, won by her virtues.
Good. So all that I inquire of make report.
I am glad to hear't. Sir, I have now some business,
And I of force must leave you.
Mayor. I entreat you
To sup with me to-night.
Good. Sir, I may trouble you.—
[Exeunt Mayor and Alderman.
Five hundred pound a year out of my way.
Is there no flaw that I can tax her with,
To forfeit this revenue? Is she such a saint,
None can missay her? Why, then, I myself
Will undertake it. If in her demeanour
I can but find one blemish, stain, or spot,
It is five hundred pound a year well got. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.—The Windmill Tavern.
Enter CLEM and Sailors on one side: on the other, ROUGHMAN, who
draws and beats them off; then re-enter CLEM, and the Sailors, with
BESS.
Bess. But did he fight it bravely?
Clem. I assure you, mistress, most dissolutely: he hath run this
sailor
three times through the body, and yet never touched his skin.
Bess. How can that be?
Clem. Through the body of his doublet, I meant.
Bess. How shame, base imputation, and disgrace,
Can make a coward valiant! Sirrah, you
Look to the bar.
Clem. I'll hold up my hand there presently. [Exit.
Bess. I understand you came now from the Islands?
1st Sail. We did so.
Bess. If you can tell me tidings of one gentleman,
I shall requite you largely.
1st Sail. Of what name?
Bess. One Spencer.
1st Sail. We both saw and knew the man.
Bess. Only for that, call for what wine you please.
Pray tell me where you left him.
2nd Sail. In Fayal.
Bess. Was he in health? How did he fare?
2nd Sail. Why, well.
Bess. For that good news, spend, revel, and carouse;
Your reckoning's paid beforehand.—I am ecstasied,
And my delight's unbounded.
1st Sail. Did you love him?
Bess. Next to my hopes in Heaven.
1st Sail. Then change your mirth.
Bess. Why, as I take it, you told me he was well;
And shall I not rejoice?
1st Sail. He's well, in Heaven; for, mistress, he is dead.
Bess. Ha! dead! Was't so you said? Th' hast given me, friend,
But one wound yet: speak but that word again,
And kill me outright.
2nd Sail. He lives not.
Bess. And shall I?—Wilt thou not break, heart?
Are these my ribs wrought out of brass or steel,
Thou canst not craze their bars?
1st Sail. Mistress, use patience,
Which conquers all despair.
Bess. You advise well.
I did but jest with sorrow: you may see
I am now in gentle temper.
2nd Sail. True; we see't.
Bess. Pray take the best room in the house, and there
Call for what wine best tastes you: at my leisure,
I'll visit you myself.
1st Sail. I'll use your kindness. [Exeunt Sailors.
Bess. That it should be my fate! Poor, poor sweet-heart!
I do but think how thou becom'st thy grave,
In which would I lay by thee. What's my wealth,
To enjoy't without my Spencer? I will now
Study to die, that I may live with him.
Enter Captain GOODLACK.
Good. [Aside.] The further I inquire, the more I hear
To my discomfort. If my discontinuance
And change at sea disguise me from her knowledge,
I shall have scope enough to prove her fully.
This sadness argues she hath heard some news
Of my friend's death.
Bess. [Aside.] It cannot, sure, be true
That he is dead; Death could not be so envious,
To snatch him in his prime. I study to forget
That e'er was such a man.
Good. [Aside.] If not impeach her,
My purpose is to seek to marry her.
If she deny me, I'll conceal the will,
Or, at the least, make her compound for half—
Save you, [To BESS] fair gentlewoman.
Bess. You are welcome, sir.
Good. I hear say there's a whore here, that draws wine.
I am sharp set, and newly come from sea,
And I would see the trash.
Bess. Sure, you mistake, sir.
If you desire attendance, and some wine,
I can command you both.—Where be these boys?
Good. Are you the mistress?
Bess. I command the house.
Good. Of what birth are you, pray?
Bess. A tanner's daughter.
Good. Where born?
Bess. In Somersetshire.
Good. A trade-fallen tanner's daughter go so brave!
Oh! you have tricks to compass these gay clothes.
Bess. None, sir, but what are honest.
Good. What's your name?
Bess. Bess Bridges most men call me.
Good. Y'are a whore.
Bess. Sir, I will fetch you wine, to wash your mouth;
It is so foul, I fear't may fester, else:
There may be danger in't.
Good. [Aside.] Not all this move her patience!
Bess. Good, sir, at this time I am scarce myself,
By reason of a great and weighty loss
That troubles me.—[Notices the ring given to him by
SPENCER]—But I
should know that ring.
Good. How! this, you baggage? It was never made
To grace a strumpet's finger.
Bess. Pardon, sir;
I both must and will leave you. [Exit.
Good. Did not this well? This will stick in my stomach.
I could repent my wrongs done to this maid;
But I'll not leave her thus: if she still love him,
I'll break her heart-strings with some false report
Of his unkindness.
Re-enter CLEM.
Clem. You are welcome, gentleman. What wine will you drink? Claret,
metheglin, or muscadine? Cider, or perry, to make you merry? Aragoosa, or peter
-
see-me? Canary, or charnico? But, by your nose, sir, you should love a cup of
malmsey: you shall have a cup of the best in Cornwall.
Good. Here's a brave drawer, will quarrel with his wine.
Clem. But if you prefer the Frenchman before the Spaniard, you shall
have either here of the deep red grape, or the pallid white. You are a pretty
tall gentleman; you should love high country wine: none but clerks and sextons
love Graves wine. Or, are you a married man, I'll furnish you with bastard,
white or brown, according to the complexion of your bedfellow.
Good. You rogue, how many years of your prenticeship have you spent
in
studying this set speech?
Clem. The first line of my part was "Anon, anon, sir;" and the first
question I answered to, was loggerhead, or blockhead—I know not whether.
Good. Speak: where's your mistress?
Clem. Gone up to her chamber.
Good. Set a pottle of sack in the fire, and carry it into the next
room. [Exit.
Clem. Score a pottle of sack in the Crown, and see at the bar for some
rotten eggs, to burn it: we must have one trick or other, to vent away our bad
commodities.
[Exit.
SCENE V.—A Bedroom in the Tavern.
Enter BESS, with SPENCER'S Picture.
Bess. To die, and not vouchsafe some few commends
Before his death, was most unkindly done.
This picture is more courteous: 't will not shrink
For twenty thousand kisses; no, nor blush:
Then thou shalt be my husband; and I vow
Never to marry other.
Enter Captain GOODLACK.
Good. Where's this harlot?
Bess. You are immodest, sir, to press thus rudely
Into my private chamber.
Good. Pox of modesty,
When punks must have it mincing in their mouths!—
And have I found thee? thou shalt hence with me.
[Seizes the picture.
Bess. Rob me not of the chiefest wealth I have.
Search all my trunks; take the best jewels there;
Deprive me not that treasure: I'll redeem it
With plate, and all the little coin I have,
So I may keep that still.
Good. Think'st thou that bribes
Can make me leave my friend's will unperformed?
Bess. What was that friend?
Good. One Spencer, dead i' the Islands,
Whose very last words, uttered at his death,
Were these: "If ever thou shalt come to Foy,
Take thence my picture, and deface it quite;
For let it not be said, my portraiture
Shall grace a strumpet's chamber."
Bess. 'Twas not so:
You lie! you are a villain! 'twas not so.
'Tis more than sin thus to belie the dead.
He knew, if ever I would have transgressed,
'T had been with him: he durst have sworn me chaste,
And died in that belief.
Good. Are you so brief?
Nay, I'll not trouble you. God be wi' you!
Bess. Yet leave me still that picture, and I'll swear
You are a gentleman, and cannot lie.
Good. I am inexorable.
Bess. Are you a Christian?
Have you any name that ever good man gave you?
'Twas no saint you were called after. What's thy name?
Good. My name is Captain Thomas Good_____
Bess. I can see no good in thee: rase that syllable
Out of thy name.
Good. Goodlack's my name.
Bess. I cry you mercy, sir: I now remember you;
You were my Spencer's friend; and I am sorry,
Because he loved you, I have been so harsh:
For whose sake I entreat, ere you take't hence,
I may but take my leave on't.
Good. You'll return it?
Bess. As I am chaste, I will.
Good. For once I'll trust you. [Returns the picture.
Bess. O thou, the perfect semblance of my love,
And all that's left of him, take one sweet kiss,
As my last farewell! Thou resemblest him
For whose sweet safety I was every morning
Down on my knees, and with the lark's sweet tunes
I did begin my prayers; and when sad sleep
Had charmed all eyes, when none save the bright stars
Were up and waking, I remembered thee;
But all, all to no purpose.
Good. [Aside.] Sure, most sure,
This cannot be dissembled.
Bess. To thee I have been constant in thine absence;
And, when I looked upon this painted piece,
Remembered thy last rules and principles;
For thee I have given alms, visited prisons,
To gentlemen and passengers lent coin,
That, if they ever had ability,
They might repay't to Spencer; yet for this,
All this, and more, I cannot have so much
As this poor table.
Good. [Aside.] I should question truth,
If I should wrong this creature.
Bess. I am resolved.—
See, sir, this picture I restore you back;
Which since it was his will you should take hence,
I will not wrong the dead.
Good. God be wi' you!
Bess. One word more.
Spencer, you say, was so unkind in death.
Good. I tell you true.
Bess. I do entreat you, even for goodness' sake,
Since you were one that he entirely loved,
If you some few days hence hear me expired,
You will, 'mongst other good men, and poor people
That haply may miss Bess, grace me so much
As follow me to the grave. This if you promise,
You shall not be the least of all my friends
Remembered in my will. Now, fare you well!
Good. [Aside.] Had I had heart of flint or adamant,
It would relent at this.—[Aloud.] My Mistress Bess,
I have better tidings for you.
Bess. You will restore
My picture? Will you?
Good. Yes, and more than that:
This ring from my friend's finger, sent to you
With infinite commends.
Bess. You change my blood.
Good. These writings are the evidence of lands:
Five hundred pound a year's bequeathed to you,
Of which I here possess you: all is yours.
Bess. This surplusage of love hath made my loss,
That was but great before, now infinite.—
It may be compassed; there's in this my purpose
No impossibility. [Aside.
Good. What study you?
Bess. Four thousand pound, besides this legacy,
In jewels, gold, and silver, I can make,
And every man discharged. I am resolved
To be a pattern to all maids hereafter
Of constancy in love.
Good. Sweet Mistress Bess, will you command my service?
If to succeed your Spencer in his love,
I would expose me wholly to your wishes.
Bess. Alas! my love sleeps with him in his grave,
And cannot thence be wakened: yet for his sake
I will impart a secret to your trust,
Which, saving you, no mortal should partake.
Good. Both for his love and yours, command my service.
Bess. There's a prize
Brought into Falmouth road, a good tight vessel;
The bottom will but cost eight hundred pound;
You shall have money: buy it.
Good. To what end?
Bess. That you shall know hereafter. Furnish her
With all provision needful: spare no cost;
And join with you a ging of lusty lads,
Such as will bravely man her. All the charge
I will commit to you; and when she's fitted,
Captain, she is thine own.
Good. I sound it not.
Bess. Spare me the rest.—This voyage I intend,
Though some may blame, all lovers will commend.
[Exeunt.
ACT THE FOURTH.
SCENE I.—On Board a Spanish Vessel.
After an alarum, enter a Spanish Captain, with Sailors, bringing in
an English Merchant, SPENCER, and the Surgeon, prisoners.
SCAPT. For Fayal's loss and spoil, by the English done,
We are in part revenged. There's not a vessel
That bears upon her top St. George's cross,
But for that act shall suffer.
Merch. Insult not, Spaniard,
Nor be too proud, that thou by odds of ships,
Provision, men, and powder, madest us yield.
Had you come one to one, or made assault
With reasonable advantage, we by this
Had made the carcase of your ship your graves,
Low sunk to the sea's bottom.
S. Capt. Englishman, thy ship shall yield us pillage.
These prisoners we will keep in strongest hold,
To pay no other ransom than their lives.
Spen. Degenerate Spaniard, there's no nobless in thee,
To threaten men unarmed and miserable.
Thou mightst as well tread o'er a field of slaughter,
And kill them o'er that are already slain,
And brag thy manhood.
S. Capt. Sirrah, what are you?
Spen. Thy equal, as I am a prisoner;
But once, to stay a better man than thou,
A gentleman in my country.
S. Capt. Wert thou not so, we have strappados, bolts,
And engines, to the mainmast fastenèd,
Can make you gentle.
Spen. Spaniard, do thy worst:
Thou canst not act more tortures than my courage
Is able to endure.
S. Capt. These Englishmen,
Nothing can daunt them. Even in misery,
They'll not regard their masters.
Spen. Masters! Insulting, bragging Thrasos!
S. Capt. His sauciness we'll punish 'bove the rest;
About their censures we will next devise.
And now towards Spain, with our brave English prize.
[Flourish. Exeunt.
SCENE II.—The Windmill Tavern.
Enter BESS, the Mayor of Foy, Alderman, and CLEM.
Bess. A table and some stools!
Clem. I shall give you occasion to ease your tails, presently.
[Tables and stools set out.
Bess. Will't please you sit?
Mayor. With all our hearts, and thank you.
Bess. Fetch me that parchment in my closet window.
Clem. The three sheepskins with the wrong side outward?
Bess. That with the seal.
Clem. I hope it is my indenture, and now she means to give me my
time.
[Exit.
Ald. And now you are alone, fair Mistress Elzabeth,
I think it good to taste you with a motion
That no way can displease you.
Bess. Pray, speak on.
Ald. 'T hath pleased here Master Mayor so far to look
Into your fair demeanour, that he thinks you
A fit match for his son.
Re-enter CLEM, with the parchment.
Clem. Here's the parchment; but if it be the lease of your house,
I can
assure you 'tis out.
Bess. The years are not expired.
Clem. No; but it is out of your closet.
Bess. About your business.
Clem. Here's even Susannah betwixt the two wicked elders. [Exit.
Ald. What think you, Mistress Elzabeth?
Bess. Sir, I thank you;
And how much I esteem this goodness from you,
The trust I shall commit unto your charge
Will truly witness. Marry, gentle sir!
'Las, I have sadder business now in hand
Than sprightly marriage; witness these my tears.
Pray read there.
Mayor. [Reads.] 'The last will and testament of
Elzabeth Bridges; to be committed to the trust of the mayor and aldermen of
Foy,
and their successors for ever.
To set up young beginners in their trade, a thousand pound.
To relieve such as have had loss by sea, five hundred pound.
To every maid that's married out of Foy, whose name's Elzabeth, ten pound.
To relieve maimed soldiers, by the year, ten pound.
To Captain Goodlack, if he shall perform the business he's employed in, five
hundred pound.
The legacies for Spencer thus to stand:
To number all the poorest of his kin,
And to bestow on them—Item, to_____"
Bess. Enough! You see, sir, I am now too poor
To bring a dowry with me fit for your son.
Mayor. You want a precedent, you so abound
In charity and goodness.
Bess. All my servants
I leave at your discretions to dispose;
Not one but I have left some legacy.
What shall become of me, or what I purpose;
Spare further to inquire.
Mayor. We'll take our leaves,
And prove to you faithful executors
In this bequest.
Ald. Let never such despair,
As, dying rich, shall make the poor their heir.
[Exeunt Mayor and Alderman.
Bess. Why, what is all the wealth the world contains,
Without my Spencer?
Enter ROUGHMAN and FAWCETT.
Rough. Where's my sweet Bess?
Shall I become a welcome suitor, now
That I have changed my copy?
Bess. I joy to hear it.
I'll find employment for you.
Enter Captain GOODLACK, Sailors, and CLEM.
Good. A gallant ship, and wondrous proudly trimmed;
Well caulked, well tackled, every way prepared.
Bess. Here, then, our mourning for a season end.
Rough. Bess, shall I strike that captain? Say the word,
I'll have him by the ears.
Bess. Not for the world.
Good. What saith that fellow?
Bess. He desires your love,
Good captain: let him ha' it.
Good. Then change a hand.
Bess. Resolve me all. I am bound upon a voyage:
Will you, in this adventure, take such part
As I myself shall do?
Rough. With my fair Bess,
To the world's end.
Bess. Then, captain and lieutenant both join hands;
Such are your places now.
Good. We two are friends.
Bess. I next must swear you two, with all your ging,
True to some articles you must observe,
Reserving to myself a prime command,
Whilst I enjoin nothing unreasonable.
Good. All this is granted.
Bess. Then, first you said your ship was trim and gay:
I'll have her pitched all o'er; no spot of white,
No colour to be seen; no sail but black;
No flag but sable.
Good. 'Twill be ominous,
And bode disastrous fortune.
Bess. I will ha't so.
Good. Why, then, she shall be pitched black as the devil.
Bess. She shall be called the Negro. When you know
My conceit, captain, you will thank me for't.
Rough. But whither are we bound?
Bess. Pardon me that:
When we are out at sea, I'll tell you all.
For mine own wearing I have rich apparel,
For man or woman, as occasion serves,
Clem. But, mistress, if you be going to sea, what shall become of
me a-
land?
Bess. I'll give thee thy full time.
Clem. And shall I take time, when time is, and let my mistress slip
away? No; it shall be seen that my teeth are as strong to grind biscuit as the
best sailor of them all, and my stomach as able to digest powdered beef and
poor-john. Shall I stay here to score a pudding in the Half-moon, and see my
mistress at the mainyard, with her sails up and spread? No; it shall be seen
that I, who have been brought up to draw wine, will see what water the ship
draws, or I'll bewray the voyage.
Bess. If thou hast so much courage, the captain shall accept thee.
Clem. If I have so much courage! When did you see a black beard with a
white liver, or a little fellow without a tall stomach? I doubt not but to
prove
an honour to all the drawers in Cornwall.
Good. What now remains?
Faw. To make myself associate
In this bold enterprise.
Good. Most gladly, sir.
And now our number's full, what's to be done?
Bess. First, at my charge, I'll feast the town of Foy;
Then set the cellars ope, that these my mates
May quaff unto the health of our boon voyage,
Our needful things being once conveyed aboard;
Then, casting up our caps, in sign of joy,
Our purpose is to bid farewell to Foy.
[Exeunt. Hautboys long.
SCENE III.—Morocco. The Court.
Enter MULLISHEG, Bashaw ALCADE, and Bashaw JOFFER, with other
Attendants.
Mull. Out of these bloody and intestine broils
We have at length attained a fortunate peace,
And now at last established in the throne
Of our great ancestors, and reign as King
Of Fez and great Morocco.
Alc. Mighty Mullisheg,
Pride of our age and glory of the Moors,
By whose victorious hand all Barbary
Is conquered, awed, and swayed, behold thy vassals
With loud applauses greet thy victory. [Shout; flourish.
Mull. Upon the slaughtered bodies of our foes
We mount our high tribunal; and being sole,
Without competitor, we now have leisure
To stablish laws, first for our kingdom's safety,
The enriching of our public treasury,
And last our state and pleasure; then give order
That all such Christian merchants as have traffic
And freedom in our country, that conceal
The least part of our custom due to us,
Shall forfeit ship and goods.
Joff. There are appointed
Unto that purpose careful officers.
Mull. Those forfeitures must help to furnish up
The exhausted treasure that our wars consumed:
Part of such profits as accrue that way
We have already tasted
Alc. 'Tis most fit
Those Christians that reap profit by our land
Should contribute unto so great a loss.
Mull. Alcade, they shall.—But what's the style of king,
Without his pleasure? Find us concubines,
The fairest Christian damsels you can hire,
Or buy for gold; the loveliest of the Moors
We can command, and negroes everywhere;
Italians, French, and Dutch, choice Turkish girls,
Must fill our Alkedavy, the great palace
Where Mullisheg now deigns to keep his court.
Joff. Who else are worthy to be libertines
But such as bear the sword?
Mull. Joffer, thou pleasest us.
If kings on earth be termèd demigods,
Why should we not make here terrestrial Heaven?
We can, we will: our God shall be our pleasure;
For so our Meccan prophet warrants us.
And now the music of the drums surcease;
We'll learn to dance to the soft tunes of peace.
[Hautboys. Exeunt.
SCENE IV.—On Board an English Ship.
Enter BESS as a Sea-captain, Captain GOODLACK, ROUGHMAN, and
others.
Bess. Good morrow, captain. Oh, this last sea-fight
Was gallantly performed! It did me good
To see the Spanish carvel vail her top
Unto my maiden flag. Where ride we now?
Good. Among the Islands.
Bess. What coast is this we now descry from far?
Good. Yon fort's called Fayal.
Bess. Is that the place where Spencer's body lies?
Good. Yes; in yon church he's buried.
Bess. Then know, to this place was my voyage bound,
To fetch the body of my Spencer thence;
In his own country to erect a tomb
And lasting monument, where, when I die,
In the same bed of earth my bones may lie.
Then, all that love me, arm and make for shore:
Yours be the spoil, he mine; I crave no more.
Rough. May that man die derided and accursed
That will not follow where a woman leads.
Good. Roughman, you are too rash, and counsel ill.
Have not the Spaniards fortified the town?
In all our ging we are but sixty-five.
Rough. Come, I'll make one.
Good. Attend me, good lieutenant;
And, sweet Bess, listen what I have devised.
With ten tall fellows I have manned our boat,
To see what straggling Spaniards they can take.
And see where Fawcett is returned with prisoners.
Enter FAWCETT, with two Spaniards.
Faw. These Spaniards we by break of day surprised,
As they were ready to take boat for fishing.
Good. Spaniards, upon your lives, resolve us truly,
How strong's the town and fort?
1st Span. Since English Raleigh won and spoiled it first,
The town's re-edified, and fort new built,
And four field-pieces in the block-house lie,
To keep the harbour's mouth.
Good. And what's one ship to these?
Bess. Was there not, in the time of their abode,
A gentleman called Spencer buried there,
Within the church, whom some report was slain,
Or perished by a wound?
1st Span. Indeed, there was,
And o'er him raised a goodly monument;
But when the English navy were sailed thence,
And that the Spaniards did possess the town,
Because they held him for a heretic,
They straight removed his body from the church.
Bess. And would the tyrants be so uncharitable
To wrong the dead! Where did they then bestow him?
1st Span. They buried him i' the fields.
Bess. Oh, still more cruel!
1st Span. The man that ought the field, doubtful his corn
Would never prosper whilst a heretic's body
Lay there, he made petition to the church
To ha' it digged up and burnt; and so it was.
Bess. What's he, that loves me, would persuade me live,
Not rather leap o'er hatches into the sea?
Yet, ere I die, I hope to be revenged
Upon some Spaniards, for my Spencer's wrong.
Rough. Let's first begin with these.
Bess. 'Las, these poor slaves! Besides their pardoned lives,
One give them money.—And, Spaniards, where you come,
Pray for Bess Bridges, and speak well o' the English.
1st & 2nd Span. We shall.
Bess. Our mourning we will turn into revenge,
And since the church hath censured so my Spencer,
Bestow upon the church some few cast pieces.—
Command the gunner do't.
Good. And, if he can,
To batter it to the earth. [A gun is discharged.
Enter CLEM, falling through haste.
Clem. A sail! a sail!
Bess. From whence?
Clem. A pox upon yon gunner! Could he not give warning, before he had
shot?
Rough. Why, I prithee?
Clem. Why? I was sent to the top-mast, to watch, and there I fell
fast
asleep. Bounce! quoth the guns; down tumbles Clem; and, if by chance my
feet had
not hung in the tackles, you must have sent to England for a
bone-setter, for my
neck had been in a pitiful taking.
Rough. Thou told'st us of a sail.
Enter. Sailor, above.
Sail. Arm, gentlemen! a gallant ship of war
Makes with her full sails this way; who, it seems,
Hath took a bark of England.
Bess. Which we'll rescue,
Or perish in the adventure. You have sworn
That, howsoe'er we conquer or miscarry,
Not to reveal my sex.
All. We have.
Bess. Then, for your country's honour, my revenge,
For your own fame, and hope of golden spoil,
Stand bravely to't.—The manage of the fight
We leave to you.
Good. Then, now up with your fights, and let your ensigns,
Blest with St. George's cross, play with the winds.—
Fair Bess, keep you your cabin.
Bess. Captain, you wrong me: I will face the fight;
And where the bullets sing loud'st 'bout mine ears,
There shall you find me cheering up my men.
Rough. This wench would of a coward make a Hercules.
Bess. Trumpets, a charge! and with your whistles shrill,
Sound, boatswains, an alarum to your mates.
With music cheer up their astonished souls,
The whilst the thundering ordnance bear the bass.
Good. To fight against the Spaniards we desire.
Alarum, trumpets! [Alarum.
Rough. Gunners, straight give fire! [A shot is fired.
[Exeunt GOODLACK, BESS, &c.
Re-enter Captain GOODLACK, wounded, BESS, ROUGHMAN, FAWCETT, and
CLEM.
Good. I am shot, and can no longer man the deck:
Yet let not my wound daunt your courage, mates.
Bess. For every drop of blood that thou hast shed,
I'll have a Spaniard's life.—Advance your targets,
And now cry all, "Board! board! Amain for England!"
[Alarum. Exeunt GOODLACK, BESS, &c.
Re-enter BESS, ROUGHMAN, FAWCETT, CLEM, &c., victorious. The
Spaniards prisoners.
Bess. How is it with the captain?
Rough. Nothing dangerous;
But, being shot i' the thigh, he keeps his cabin,
And cannot rise to greet your victory.
Bess. He stood it bravely out, whilst he could stand.
Clem. But for these Spaniards: now, you Don Diegos,
You that made Paul's to stink.
Rough. Before we further censure them, let's know
What English prisoners they have here aboard. [Exit.
1st Span. You may command them all. We that were now
Lords over them, fortune hath made your slaves.—
Release our prisoners.
Bess. Had my captain died,
Not one proud Spaniard had escaped with life.
Your ship is forfeit to us, and your goods:
So live.—Give him his long boat: him and his
Set safe ashore; and pray for English Bess.
1st Span. I know not whom you mean; but be't your queen,
Famous Elizabeth, I shall report
She and her subjects both are merciful. [Exeunt Spaniards.
Re-enter ROUGHMAN, with a Merchant, SPENCER and English
Prisoners.
Bess. Whence are you, sir, and whither were you bound?
Merch. I am a London merchant, bound for Barbary;
But by this Spanish man-of-war surprised,
Pillaged and captived.
Bess. We much pity you.
What loss you have sustained, this Spanish prey
Shall make good to you, to the utmost farthing.
Merch. Our lives, and all our fortunes whatsoever,
Are wholly at your service.
Bess. These gentlemen have been dejected long.
Let me peruse them all, and give them money
To drink our health. And pray forget not, sirs,
To pray for_____[She sees SPENCER.] Hold! support me, or I faint.
Rough. What sudden, unexpected ecstasy
Disturbs your conquest?
Bess. Interrupt me not;
But give me way, for Heaven's sake!
Spen. I have seen
A face, ere now, like that young gentleman,
But not remember where.
Bess. But he was slain;
Lay buried in yon church; and thence removed,
Denied all Christian rites, and, like an infidel,
Confined unto the fields; and thence digged up,
His body, after death, had martyrdom.
All these assure me 'tis his shadow dogs me,
For some most just revenge, thus far to sea.—
Is it because the Spaniards scaped with life,
That were to thee so cruel after death,
Thou haunt'st me thus? Sweet ghost, thy rage forbear;
I will revenge thee on the next we seize.
I am amazed; this sight I'll not endure.
Sleep, sleep, fair ghost, for thy revenge is sure.
Rough. Fawcett, convey the owner to his cabin.
[Exit FAWCETT with BESS.
Spen. I pray, sir, what young gentleman is that?
Rough. He's both the owner of the ship and goods,
That for some reasons hath his name concealed.
Spen. Methinks he looks like Bess; for in his eyes
Lives the first love that did my heart surprise.
Rough. Come, gentlemen, first make your losses good,
Out of this Spanish prize. Let's then divide
Both several ways, and Heavens be our guide.
Merch. We towards Mamorah.
Rough. We where the Fates do please,
Till we have tracked a wilderness of seas.
[Flourish. Exeunt.
Enter Chorus.
Our stage so lamely can express a sea,
That we are forced by Chorus to discourse
What should have been in action. Now, imagine
Her passion o'er, and Goodlack well recovered;
Who, had he not been wounded, and seen Spencer,
Had sure described him. Much prize they have ta'en:
The French and Dutch she spares; only makes spoil
Of the rich Spaniard and the barbarous Turk.
And now her fame grows great in all these seas.
Suppose her rich, and forced, for want of water,
To put into Mamorah, in Barbary,
Where, wearied with the habit of a man,
She was discovered by the Moors aboard,
Which told it to the amorous King of Fez,
That ne'er before had English lady seen.
He sends for her on shore. How he receives her,
How she and Spencer meet, must next succeed.
Sit patient, then: when these are fully told,
Some may hap say, "Ay, there's a girl worth gold."
[Exit
ACT THE FIFTH.
SCENE I.—Morocco. The Court.
Enter MULLISHEG, Bashaw ALCADE, Bashaw JOFFER, Attendants, &c.
MULL. But was she of such presence?
Alc. To describe her
Were to make eloquence dumb.
Mull. Well habited?
Alc. I ne'er beheld a beauty more complete.
Mull. Thou hast inflamed our spirits.
In England born?
Alc. The captain so reported.
Mull. How her ship?
Alc. I never saw a braver vessel sail.
And she is called the Negro.
Mull. Ominous,
Perhaps, to our good fate: she in a Negro
Hath sailed thus far, to bosom with a Moor.
But for the motion made to come ashore,
How did she relish that?
Alc. I promised to the captain large reward,
To win him to it, and this day he hath promised
To bring me her free answer.
Mull. When he comes.
Give him the entertainment of a prince.
Enter a Moor.
The news with thee?
Moor. The captain of the Negro craves admittance
Unto your highness' presence.
Mull. A guard attend him, and our noblest bashaws
Conduct him safe where we will parley him. [Flourish.
Enter Captain GOODLACK and ROUGHMAN.
Good. Long live the high and mighty King of Fez!
Mull. If thou bring'st her, then dost thou bring me life.
Say, will she come?
Good. She will, my lord; but yet conditionally,
She may be free from violence.
Mull. Now, by the mighty prophet we adore,
She shall live lady of her free desires:
'Tis love, not force, must quench our amorous fires.
Rough. We will conduct her to your presence straight.
[Exeunt ROUGHMAN and GOODLACK.
Mull. We will have banquets, revels, and what not,
To entertain this stranger. [Hautboys.
Re-enter Captain GOODLACK and ROUGHMAN, with BESS BRIDGES,
veiled, FAWCETT, and Moors.
A goodly presence!—Why's that beauty veiled?
Bess. Long live the King of Fez.
Mull. I am amazed!
This is no mortal creature I behold,
But some bright angel, that is dropped from Heaven,
Sent by our prophet.—Captain, let me thus
Embrace thee in my arms.—Load him with gold,
For this great favour.
Bess. Captain, touch it not.—
Know, King of Fez, my followers want no gold.
I only came to see thee for my pleasure,
And show thee, what these say thou never saw'st,
A woman born in England.
Mull. That English earth may well be termed a Heaven,
That breeds such divine beauties. Make me sure
That thou art mortal by one friendly touch.
Bess. Keep off: for, till thou swear'st to my demands,
I will have no commèrce with Mullisheg,
But leave thee as I came.
Mull. Were't half my kingdom,
That, beauteous English virgin, thou shalt have.
Bess. [Hands GOODLACK a paper.] Captain, read.
Good. [Reads.] "First, liberty for her and hers to leave the land
at her pleasure. Next, safe-conduct to and from her ship, at her own
discretion.
Thirdly, to be free from all violence, either by the king or any of
his people.
Fourthly, to allow her mariners fresh victuals aboard. Fifthly, to offer no
further violence to her person than what he seeks by kindly usage and free
entreaty."
Mull. To these I vow and seal.
Bess. These being assured,
Your courtship's free, and henceforth we secured.
Mull. Say, gentlemen of England, what's your fashion
And garb of entertainment?
Good. Our first greeting
Begins still on the lips.
Mull. Fair creature, shall I be immortalized
With that high favour?
Bess. 'Tis no immodest thing
You ask, nor shame for Bess to kiss a king. [Kisses him.
Mull. This kiss hath all my vitals ecstasied.
Rough. Captain,
This king is mightily in love. Well, let her
Do as she list, I'll make use of his bounty.
Good. We should be madmen else.
Mull. Grace me so much as take your seat by me.
Bess. I'll be so far commanded.
Mull. Sweet, your age?
Bess. Not fully yet seventeen.
Mull. But how your birth? How came you to this wealth,
To have such gentlemen at your command,
And what your cause of travel?
Bess. Mighty prince,
If you desire to see me beat my breast,
Pour forth a river of increasing tears,
Then you may urge me to that sad discourse.
Mull. Not for Mamorah's wealth, nor all the gold
Coined in rich Barbary. Nay, sweet, arise,
And ask of me, be't half this kingdom's treasure,
And thou art lady on't.
Bess. If I shall ask, 't must be, you will not give.
Our country breeds no beggars; for our hearts
Are of more noble temper.
Mull. Sweet, your name?
Bess. Elizabeth.
Mull. There's virtue in that name.
The virgin queen, so famous through the world,
The mighty empress of the maiden isle,
Whose predecessors have o'errun great France,
Whose powerful hand doth still support the Dutch,
And keeps the potent king of Spain in awe,
Is not she titled so?
Bess. She is.
Mull. Hath she herself a face so fair as yours,
When she appears for wonder?
Bess. Mighty Fez,
You cast a blush upon my maiden cheek,
To pattern me with her. Why, England's queen,
She is the only phœnix of her age,
The pride and glory of the Western Isles.
Had I a thousand tongues, they all would tire,
And fail me in her true description.
Mull. Grant me this:
To-morrow we supply our judgment seat,
And sentence causes; sit with us in state,
And let your presence beautify our throne.
Bess. In that I am your servant.
Mull. And we thine.
Set on in state, attendants and full train.
But find to ask, we vow thou shalt obtain.
[Exeunt all except GOODLACK.
Enter CLEM.
Clem. It is not now as when Andrea lived, or rather
Andrew, our elder
journeyman. What, drawers become courtiers! Now may I speak
with the old ghost
in Jeronimo—
When this eternal substance of my soul
Did live imprisoned in this wanton flesh,
I was a courtier in the court of Fez.
Good. Oh, well done, Clem! It is your mistress' pleasure,
None come ashore that's not well habited.
Clem. Nay; for mine own part, I hold myself as good a Christian in
these clothes, as the proudest infidel of them all.
Re-enter ALCADE and JOFFER.
Alc. Sir, by your leave, you're of the English train?
Clem. I am so, thou great monarch of the Mauritanians.
Joff. Then, 'tis the king's command we give you all attendance.
Clem. Great Signior of the Saracens, I thank thee.
Alc. Will you walk in to banquet?
Clem. I will make bold to march in towards your banquet, and there
comfit myself, and cast all caraways down my throat, the best way I have to
conserve myself in health; and for your country's sake,
which is called Barbary,
I will love all barbers and barberries the better.
And for you Moors, thus much I mean to say,
I'll see if more I eat, the more I may.
Enter two Merchants.
1st Merch. I pray, sir, are you of the English train?
Clem. Why, what art thou, my friend?
1st Merch. Sir, a French merchant, run into relapse,
And forfeit of the law. Here's for you, sir,
Forty good Barbary pieces, to deliver
Your lady this petition, who, I hear,
Can all things with the king.
Clem. Your gold doth bind me to you.—You
may see what it is to be
a sudden courtier: I no sooner put my nose into the court, but my hand itches
for a bribe already.—What's your business, my friend?
2nd Merch. Some of my men, for a little outrage done,
Are sentenced to the galleys.
Clem. To the gallows?
2nd Merch. No; to the galleys. Now, could your lady purchase
Their pardon from the king, here's twenty angels.
Clem. What are you, sir?
2nd Merch. A Florentine merchant.
Clem. Then you are, as they say, a Christian?
2nd Merch. Heaven forbid, else!
Clem. I should not have the faith to take your gold, else.
Attend on me: I'll speak in your behalf.—
Where be my bashaws? Usher us in state:
And when we sit to banquet, see you wait.
[Flourish. Exeunt.
SCENE II.—The same.
Enter SPENCER.
Spen. This day the king ascends his royal throne.
The honest merchant, in whose ship I came,
Hath, by a cunning quiddit in the law,
Both ship and goods made forfeit to the king,
To whom I will petition. But no more;
He's now upon his entrance. [Hautboys.
Enter MULLISHEG, BESS, Captain GOODLACK, ROUGHMAN, ALCADE, JOFFER, with
all
the other train.
Mull. Here seat thee, maid of England, like a queen—
The style we'll give thee, wilt thou deign us love.
Bess. Bless me, you holy angels!
Mull. What is't offends you, sweet?
Spen. I am amazed, and know not what to think on't.
Bess. Captain, dost not see? Is not that Spencer's ghost?
Good. I see, and, like you, I am ecstasied.
Spen. If mine eyes mistake not,
That should be Captain Goodlack, and that Bess.
But oh! I cannot be so happy.
Good. 'Tis he, and I'll salute him.
Bess. Captain, stay.
You shall be swayed by me.
Spen. Him I well know; but how should she come hither?
Mull. What is't that troubles you?
Bess. Most mighty king,
Spare me no longer time but to bestow
My captain on a message.
Mull. Thou shalt command my silence, and his ear.
Bess. [To GOODLACK.] Go wind about, and when you see least eyes
Are fixed on you, single him out, and see
If we mistake not. If he be the man,
Give me some private note.
Good. This. [Making a sign.
Bess. Enough.—What said your highness?
Mull. Hark what I proffer thee. Continue here,
And grant me full fruition of thy love._____
Bess. Good.
Mull. Thou shalt have all my peers to honour thee,
Next our great prophet.
Bess. Well.
Mull. And when thou'rt weary of our sun-burnt clime,
Thy Negro shall be ballast home with gold.
Bess. I am eternized ever!
Now, all you sad disasters, dare your worst;
I neither care nor fear: my Spencer lives!
Mull. You mind me not, sweet virgin.
Bess. You talk of love:
My lord, I'll tell you more of that hereafter;
But now to your state-business.—Bid him do thus
No more, and not to be seen till then.
Good. Enough.—Come, sir, you must along with me.
[Exeunt GOODLACK and SPENCER.
Bess. Now, stood a thousand deaths before my face,
I would not change my cheer, since Spencer's safe.
Enter CLEM with the French and Italian Merchants; and a
Preacher.
Clem. By your leave, my masters; room for generosity.
1st Merch. Pray, sir, remember me.
2nd Merch. Good sir, my suit.
Clem. I am perfect in both your parts, without prompting. Mistress,
here are two Christen friends of mine have forfeited ships and men to the
black-
a-morian king: now, one sweet word from your lips might get their release. I
have had a feeling of the business already.
Mull. For dealing in commodities forbid,
You're fined a thousand ducats.
Bess. Cast off the burden of your heavy doom:
A follower of my train petitions for him.
Mull. One of thy train, sweet Bess?
Clem. And no worse man than myself, sir.
Mull. Well, sirrah, for your lady's sake
His ship and goods shall be restored again.
1st Merch. Long live the King of Fez!
Clem. Mayst thou never want sweet water to wash thy black face
in, most
mighty monarch of Morocco.—
Mistress, another friend; ay, and paid beforehand.
Mull. Sirrah, your men, for outrage and contempt,
Are doomed unto the gallies.
Bess. A censure too severe for Christians.
Great king, I'll pay their ransom.
Mull. Thou, my Bess!
Thy word shall be their ransom: they're discharged.
What grave old man is that?
Joff. A Christian preacher; one that would convert
Your Moors, and turn them to a new belief.
Mull. Then he shall die, as we are king of Fez.
Bess. For these I only spake; for him I kneel,
If I have any grace with mighty Fez.
Mull. We can deny thee nothing, beauteous maid.
A kiss shall be his pardon.
Bess. Thus I pay't.
Clem. Must your black face be smouching my mistress' white
lips with a
moorian! I would you had kissed her a—
Alc. Hah! how is that, sir?
Clem. I know what I say, sir; I would he had kissed her a—
Alc. A—what?
Clem. A thousand times, to have done him a pleasure!
Re-enter SPENCER and Captain GOODLACK.
Mull. That kiss was worth the ransom of a king.—
What's he, of that brave presence?
Bess. A gentleman of England, and my friend.
Do him some grace, for my sake.
Mull. For thy sake what would not I perform?
He shall have grace and honour.—Joffer, go
And see him gelded to attend on us:
He shall be our chief eunuch
Bess. Not for ten worlds! Behold, great king, I stand
Betwixt him and all danger.—Have I found thee?—
Seize what I have; take both my ship and goods;
Leave nought that's mine unrifled: spare me him.—
And have I found my Spencer?
Clem. Please your majesty, I see all men are not capable of honour:
what he refuseth, may it please you to bestow on me.
Mull. With all my heart. Go, bear him hence, Alcade,
Into our Alkedavy: honour him,
And let him taste the razor.
Clem. There's honour for me!
Alc. Come, follow.
Clem. No, sir; I'll go before you, for mine honour.
[Exeunt CLEM and ALCADE.
Spen. Oh! show yourself, renownèd king, the same
Fame blazons you. Bestow this maid on me:
'Tis such a gift as kingdoms cannot buy.
She is a precedent of all true love,
And shall be registered to after-times,
That ne'er shall pattern her.
Good. Heard you the story of their constant love,
'Twould move in you compassion.
Rough. Let not intemperate love sway you 'bove pity.
That foreign nation, that ne'er heard your name,
May chronicle your virtues.
Mull. You have wakened in me an heroic spirit:
Lust shall not conquer virtue.—Till this hour,
We graced thee for thy beauty, English woman;
But now we wonder at thy constancy.
Bess. Oh! were you of our faith, I'd swear great Mullisheg
To be a god on earth.—And lives my Spencer?
In troth I thought thee dead.
Spen. In hope of thee,
I lived to gain both life and liberty.
Re-enter CLEM, running.
Clem. No more of your honour, if you love me! Is this your Moorish
preferment, to rob a man of his best jewels?
Mull. Hast thou seen our Alkedavy?
Clem. Davy do you call him? he may be called shavy;
I am sure he hath tickled my current commodity. No more of your cutting
honour,
if you love me.
Mull. [To SPENCER.] All your strange fortunes we will hear
discoursed,
And after that your fair espousals grace,
If you can find a man of your belief
To do that grateful office.
Spen. None more fit
Than this religious and brave gentleman,
Late rescued from death's sentence.
Preach. None more proud
To do you that poor service.
Mull. Noble Englishman,
I cannot fasten bounty to my will
Worthy thy merit: move some suit to us.
Spen. To make you more renowned, great king, and us
The more indebted, there's an Englishman
Hath forfeited his ship for goods uncustomed.—
Mull. Thy suit is granted ere it be half begged:
Dispose them at thy pleasure.
Spen. Mighty king,
We are your highness' servants.
Mull. Come, beauteous maid; we'll see thee crowned a bride.
At all our pompous banquets these shall wait.
Thy followers and thy servants press with gold;
And not the mean'st that to thy train belongs,
But shall approve our bounty. Lead in state,
And, wheresoe'er thy fame shall be enrolled,
The world report thou art a Girl worth Gold. [Exeunt.
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