A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. VII (4th edition) - Various
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_Enter_ SEGASTO.
SEGASTO. What's the matter?
CLOWN. Look, master, Amandine and the shepherd! O brave!
SEGASTO. What, minion, have I found you out?
CLOWN. Nay, that's a lie, I found her out myself.
SEGASTO. Thou gadding huswife,
What cause hadst thou to gad abroad,
When as thou knowest our wedding-day so nigh?
AMADINE. Not so, Segasto; no such thing in hand.
Show your assurance, then I'll answer you?
SEGASTO. Thy father's promise my assurance is.
AMADINE. But what he promis'd he hath not perform'd.
SEGASTO. It rests in thee to perform the same.
AMADINE. Not I.
SEGASTO. And why?
AMADINE. So is my will, and therefore even so.
CLOWN. Master, with a nonny, nonny, no.[192]
SEGASTO. Ah, wicked villain! art thou here?
MUCEDORUS. What needs these words? we weigh them not.
SEGASTO. We weigh them not! proud shepherd, I scorn thy company.
CLOWN. We'll not have a corner of thy company.
MUCEDORUS. I scorn not thee, nor yet the least of thine.
CLOWN. That's a lie, a would have kill'd me with his pugs-nando.
SEGASTO. This stoutness, Amadine, contents me not.
AMADINE. Then seek another, that may you better please.
MUCEDORUS. Well, Amadine. it only rests in thee
Without delay to make thy choice of three.
There stands Segasto: here a shepherd stands:
There stands the third. Now make thy choice.
CLOWN. A lord at the least I am.
AMADINE. My choice is made; for I will none but thee.
SEGASTO. A worthy mate, no doubt, for such a wife.
MUCEDORUS. And, Amadine, why wilt thou none but me?
I cannot keep thee, as thy father did;
I have no lands for to maintain thy state;
Moreover, if thou mean to be my wife,
Commonly this must be thy use:
To bed at midnight, up at four,
Drudge all day, and trudge from place to place,
Whereby our daily victuals for to win:
And last of all, which is the worst of all,
No princess then, but a plain shepherd's wife.
CLOWN. Then God gi' you good morrow, goody shepherd! [_Aside_.
AMADINE. It shall not need; if Amadine do live,
Thou shalt be crowned King of Arragon.
CLOWN. O master, laugh; when he's king, then I'll be a queen. [_Aside_.
MUCEDORUS. Then know that, which never tofore was known,
I am no shepherd, no Arragonian I,
But born of royal blood. My father's of Valentia
King, my mother Queen: who, for thy secret[193] sake,
Took this hard task in hand.
AMADINE. Ah, how I joy my fortune is so good!
SEGASTO. Well, now I see Segasto shall not speed;
But, Mucedorus, I as much do joy
To see thee here within our Court of Arragon,
As if a kingdom had befallen me this time.
I with my heart surrender her to thee.
[_He giveth her unto him_.
And loose[194] what right to Amadine I have.
CLOWN. What, [a] barn's door, and born where my father
Was constable. A bots on thee! how dost thee? [_Aside_.
MUCEDORUS. Thanks, Segasto; but yet you levell'd at the crown.
CLOWN. Master, bear this and bear all.
SEGASTO. Why so, sir?
CLOWN. He sees you take a goose by the crown.
SEGASTO. Go to, sir, away, post you to the King,
Whose heart is fraught with careful doubts;
Glad him up, and tell him these good news,
And we will follow as fast as we may.
CLOWN. I go, master; I run, master.
[_Exeunt severally.
Enter the_ KING _and_ COLLEN.
KING. Break, heart, and end my pallid[195] woes!
My Amadine, the comfort of my life,
How can I joy, except she were in sight?
Her absence breedeth sorrow to my soul,
And with a thunder breaks my heart in twain.
COLLEN. Forbear those passions, gentle King,
And you shall see 'twill turn unto the best,
And bring your soul to quiet and to joy.
KING. Such joy as death, I do assure me that,
And nought but death, unless of her I hear,
And that with speed; I cannot sigh thus long--
But what a tumult do I hear within?
[_They cry within, Joy and happiness_!
COLLEN. I hear a noise of overpassing joy
Within the court. My lord, be of good comfort.
And here comes one in haste.
_Enter the_ CLOWN, _running_.
CLOWN. A King, a king, a king!
COLLEN. Why, how now, sirrah? what's the matter?
CLOWN. O, 'tis news for a king; 'tis worth money.
KING. Why, sirrah, thou shalt have silver and gold, if it be good.
CLOWN. O, 'tis good, 'tis good. Amadine--
KING. O, what of her? tell me, and I will make thee a knight.
CLOWN. How, a sprite? no, by Lady, I will not be a sprite, masters.
Get ye away; if I be a sprite, I shall be so lean, I shall make you
all afraid.
COLLEN. Thou sot, the King means to make thee a gentleman.
CLOWN. Why, I shall want 'pparel.
KING. Thou shalt want for nothing.
CLOWN. Then stand away; trick[196] up thyself; here they come.
_Enter_ SEGASTO, MUCEDORUS, _and_ AMADINE.
AMADINE. My gracious father, pardon thy disloyal daughter.
KING. What, do mine eyes behold my daughter
Amadin? Rise up, dear daughter,
And let these my embracing arms show some
Token of thy father's joy, which, ever since
Thy departure, hath languished in sorrow.
AMADINE. Dear father,
Never were your sorrows greater than my griefs:
Never you so desolate as I comfortless.
Yet, nevertheless, acknowledging myself
To be the cause of both, on bended knees
I humbly crave your pardon.
KING. I'll pardon thee, dear daughter, but as for
Him----
AMADINE. Ah, father! what of him?
KING. As sure as I am king, and wear the crown,
I will revenge on that accursed wretch.
MUCEDORUS. Yet, worthy prince, work not thy will in wrath:
Show favour.
KING. Ay, such favour as thou deservest.
MUCEDORUS. I do deserve the daughter of a king.
KING. O, impudent! a shepherd and so insolent?
MUCEDORUS. No shepherd [am] I, but a worthy prince.
KING. In fair conceit, not princely born.
MUCEDORUS. Yes, princely born; my father is a king,
My mother queen, and of Valentia both.
KING. What, Mucedorus? welcome to our court!
What cause hadst thou to come to me disguis'd?
MUCEDORUS. No cause to fear; I caused no offence,
But this--desiring thy daughter's virtues for to see,
Disguis'd myself from out my father's court,
Unknown to any. In secret I did rest,
And passed many troubles near to death;
So hath your daughter my partaker been,
As you shall know hereafter more at large,
Desiring you, you will give her to me,
Even as mine own, and sovereign of my life,
Then shall I think my travels are well spent.
KING. With all my heart, but this--
Segasto claims my promise made tofore,
That he should have her as his only wife,
Before my council, when we came from war.
Segasto, may I crave thee let it pass,
And give Amadine as wife to Mucedorus.
SEGASTO. With all my heart, were it a far greater thing,
And what I may to furnish up their rites,
With pleasing sports and pastimes you shall see.
KING. Thanks, good Segasto; I will think of this.
MUCEDORUS. Thanks, good my lord; and while I live,
Account of me in what I can or may.
AMADINE. And, good Segasto, these great courtesies
Shall not be forgot.
CLOWN. Why, hark you, master! bones, what have you done? What, given
away the wench you made me take such pains for? you are wise indeed;
mass, and I had known of that, I would have had her myself. Faith,
master, now we may go to breakfast with a woodcock-pie.
SEGASTO. Go, sir; you were best leave this knavery.
KING. Come on, my lords, let's now to court,
Where we may finish up the joyfullest day
That ever happ'd to a distressed king.[197]
With mirth and joy and great solemnity
We'll finish up these Hymen's rites most pleasantly.
CLOWN. Ho, lords! at the first, I am one too; but hear, Master King,
by your leave, a cast. Now you have done with them, I pray you begin
with me.
KING. Why, what wouldst thou have?
CLOWN. O, you forgot now! a little apparel to make's handsome. What,
should lords go so beggarly as I do?
KING. What I did promise thee, I will perform.
Attend on me: come, let's depart.
[_They all speak_.
We'll wait on you with all our hearts.
CLOWN. And with a piece of my liver too.
[_Exeunt omnes_.
_Enter_ COMEDY _and_ ENVY.
COMEDY. How now, Envy? what, blushest thou already?
Peep forth, hide not thy head with shame;
But with a courage praise a woman's deeds.
Thy threats were vain, thou couldst do me no hurt,
Although thou seem'st to cross me with despite,
I overwhelm'd and turn'd upside down thy block,
And made thyself to stumble at the same.
ENVY. Though stumbled, yet not overthrown:
Thou canst not draw my heart to mildness,
Yet must I needs confess thou hast done well,
And play'd thy part with mirth and pleasant glee.
Say all this; yet canst thou not conquer me,
Although this time thou hast got--
Yet not the conquest neither,
A double revenge another time I'll have.[198]
COMEDY. Then, caitiff cursed, stoop upon thy knee;
Yield to a woman, though not to me,
And from her foes high God defend her still,
That they 'gainst her may never work their will.
ENVY. Envy, were he never so stout
Would beck and bow unto her majesty.
Indeed, Comedy, thou hast overrun me now,
And forc'd me stoop unto a woman's sway.
God grant her grace amongst us long may reign,
And those that would not have it so,
Would that by Envy soon their hearts they might forego.
COMEDY. The council, nobles, and this realm,
Lord, guide it still with thy most holy hand!
The Commons and the subjects, grant them grace.
Their prince to serve, her to obey, and treason to deface:
Long may she reign in joy and great felicity,
Each Christian heart do say amen with me.
[_Exeunt_.
FINIS.
THE TWO ANGRY WOMEN OF ABINGTON.
_EDITION.
The Pleasant Historie of the two angrie women of Abington. With the
humorous mirthe of Dick Coomes and Nicholas Prouerbes, two Seruingmen.
As it was lately playde by the right Honorable the Earle of Nottingham,
Lord high Admirall, his seruants. By Henry Porter Gent. Imprinted at
London for Ioseph Hunt, and William Ferbrand, and are to be solde at
the Corner of Colman-streete, neere Loathburie_. 1599. 4to.
Another 4to, printed for Ferbrand alone, was published during the same
year.--_Dyce_.
[DYCE'S PREFACE.][199]
The text of the former 4to, which is, I apprehend, the earlier impression,
has been adopted in the present reprint, except where the readings of the
other edition have been occasionally preferred, and where obvious
typographical errors have been rectified. Every minute particular in
which the second 4to differs from the first, I have thought it unnecessary
to note. The absurd punctuation and faulty metrical arrangement of the
old copy have not been followed; and I must be allowed to add that I have
retained the original spelling only in accordance to the decision of the
Percy Council.[200]
Though Henry Porter was a dramatist of considerable reputation, all his
productions, except the copy now reprinted, appear to have utterly
perished; and, I believe, the only materials to be found for his
biography are the subjoined memoranda in the Diary of Henslowe:[201]--
Pd this 23 of Aguste 1597 to Harey Porter to carye to |
T. Nashe now at this tyme in the fflete for wrytinge of | s
_the eylle of Dogges_ ten shellinges to bee paide agen to | x
me when he canne I say ten shillinges |
Lent unto the company the 30 of Maye 1598 to bye a boocke | li
[202] called _Love prevented_ the some of fower powndes dd. | iiij
to Thomas Dowton, Mr Porter |
Lent unto the company the 18 of Aguste 1598 to bye a Booke | li
called _Hoote Anger sone cowld_ of Mr Porter, Mr Cheattell | vj
and bengemen Johnson in full payment, the some of |
Lent unto Thomas Dowton the 22 of Desember 1598 to bye a | li
boocke of Harey Porter called _the 2 pte of the 2 angrey_ | v
_Wemen of Abengton_ |
Let unto Harey Porter at the request of the company in |
earnest of his booke called _ij merey women of abington_ |
the some of forty shellings and for the resayte of that | s
money he gave me his faythfull promise that I should have | xl
alle his bookes which he writte ether him selfe or with |
any other which some was dd. the 28th of febreary 1598[-9]. |
Lent unto Harey Cheattell the 4 of March 1598[-9] in | s
earneste of his boocke which Harey Porter and he is a | x
writtinge the some of--called _the Spencers_. |
Lent Harey Porter the 11 of Aprell 1599 the some of | s d
| ii vj
Lent Hary Porter the 16 of Aprell 1599 the some of[203] | d
| xij
Lent Harey Porter the 5 of Maye 1599 the some of | s d
| ii vj
Lent Harey Porter the 15 of Maye 1599 the some of | s d
| ii vj
Be it knowne unto all men that I Henry Porter do owe unto
Phillip Henchlowe the some of x's of lawfull money of
England which I did borrowe of hym the 26 of Maye a'o. dom.
1599 Henry Porter[204].
"The Two Angry Women of Abington" is thus noticed by the late Charles
Lamb: "The pleasant comedy from which these extracts are taken is
contemporary with some of the earliest of Shakespeare's, and is no whit
inferior to either the 'Comedy of Errors' or the 'Taming of the Shrew,'
for instance. It is full of business, humour, and merry malice. Its
night scenes are peculiarly sprightly and wakeful. The versification
unencumbered, and rich with compound epithets."[205]
A.D.
THE PROLOGUE.
Gentlemen, I come to ye like one that lacks and would borrow, but was
loth to ask, lest he should be denied: I would ask, but I would ask to
obtain; O, would I knew that manner of asking! To beg were base; and to
couch low, and to carry an humble show of entreaty, were too dog-like,
that fawns on his master to get a bone from his trencher: out, cur! I
cannot abide it; to put on the shape and habit of this new world's
new-found beggars, mistermed soldiers[206], as thus: "Sweet gentlemen,
let a poor scholar implore and exerate that you would make him rich in
the possession of a mite of your favours, to keep him a true man in wit,
and to pay for his lodging among the Muses! so God him help, he is
driven to a most low estate! 'tis not unknown what service of words he
hath been at; he lost his limbs in a late conflict of flout; a brave
repulse and a hot assault it was, he doth protest, as ever he saw, since
he knew what the report of a volley of jests were; he shall therefore
desire you"--A plague upon it, each beadle disdained would whip him from
your company. Well, gentlemen, I cannot tell how to get your favours
better than by desert: then the worse luck, or the worse wit, or
somewhat, for I shall not now deserve it. Well, then[207], I commit
myself to my fortunes and your contents; contented to die, if your severe
judgments shall judge me to be stung to death with the adder's hiss.
THE NAMES OF THE SPEAKERS.[208]
M[ASTER] GOURSEY.
MIST[RESS] GOURSEY.
M[ASTER] BARNES.
MIST[RESS] BARNES.
FRANK GOURSEY.
PHILIP [BARNES.]
BOY.
MALL BARNES.
DICK COOMES.
HODGE.
NICHOLAS PROVERBS.
SIR RALPH SMITH.
[LADY SMITH.]
WILL, _Sir Ralph's man.
[Other Attendants_.]
THE PLEASANT COMEDY OF THE TWO ANGRY WOMEN OF ABINGTON.
_Enter_ MASTER GOURSEY _and his wife, and_ MASTER BARNES
_and his wife, with their two sons, and their two servants_.
MASTER GOURSEY. Good Master Barnes, this entertain of yours,
So full of courtesy and rich delight,
Makes me misdoubt my poor ability
In quittance of this friendly courtesy.
MR BAR. O Master Goursey, neighbour-amity
Is such a jewel of high-reckoned worth,
As for the attain of it what would not I
Disburse, it is so precious in my thoughts!
MR GOUR. Kind sir, near-dwelling amity indeed
Offers the heart's inquiry better view
Than love that's seated in a farther soil:
As prospectives[209], the[210] nearer that they be,
Yield better judgment to the judging eye;
Things seen far off are lessened in the eye,
When their true shape is seen being hard by.
MR BAR. True, sir, 'tis so; and truly I esteem
Mere[211] amity, familiar neighbourhood,
The cousin german unto wedded love.
MR GOUR. Ay, sir, there's surely some alliance 'twixt them,
For they have both the offspring from the heart:
Within the heart's-blood-ocean still are found
Jewels of amity and gems of love.
MR BAR. Ay, Master Goursey, I have in my time
Seen many shipwrecks of true honesty;
But incident such dangers ever are
To them that without compass sail so far:
Why, what need men to swim, when they may wade?--
But leave this talk, enough of this is said:
And, Master Goursey, in good faith, sir, welcome;--
And, Mistress Goursey, I am much in debt
Unto your kindness that would visit me.
MRS GOUR. O Master Barnes, you put me but in mind
Of that which I should say; 'tis we that are
Indebted to your kindness for this cheer:
Which debt that we may repay, I pray let's have
Sometimes your company at our homely house.
MRS BAR. That, Mistress Goursey, you shall surely have;
He'll[212] be a bold guest, I warrant ye,
And bolder too with you than I would have him.
MRS. GOUR. How, do you mean he will be bold with me?
MRS BAR. Why, he will trouble you at home, forsooth,
Often call in, and ask ye how ye do;
And sit and chat with you all day till night,
And all night too,[213] if he might have his will.
MR BAR. Ay, wife, indeed I thank her for her kindness;
She hath made me much good cheer passing that way.
MRS BAR. Passing well-done of her, she is a kind wench.
I thank ye, Mistress Goursey, for my husband;
And if it hap your husband come our way
A-hunting or such ordinary sports,
I'll do as much for yours as you for mine.
MR GOUR. Pray do, forsooth.--God's Lord, what means the woman?
She speaks it scornfully: faith, I care not;
Things are well-spoken, if they be well-taken. [_Aside_.]
What, Mistress Barnes, is it not time to part?
MRS BAR. What's a-clock, sirrah?
NICHOLAS. 'Tis but new-struck one.
MR GOUR. I have some business in the town by three.
MR BAR. Till then let's walk into the orchard, sir.
What, can you play at tables?
MR GOUR. Yes, I can.
MR BAR. What, shall we have a game?
MR GOUR. And if you please.
MR BAR. I'faith, content; we'll spend an hour so.
Sirrah, fetch the tables.[214]
NICH. I will, sir.
[_Exit_.
PHIL. Sirrah Frank, whilst they are playing here,
We'll to the green to bowls.
FRAN. Philip, content. Coomes, come hither, sirrah:
When our fathers part, call us upon the green.
Philip, come, a rubbers[215], and so leave.
PHIL. Come on.
[_Exeunt_ PHILIP _and_ FRANCIS.]
COOMES. 'Sbloud, I do not like the humour of these springals; they'll
spend all their fathers' good at gaming. But let them trowl the bowls
upon the green. I'll trowl the bowls in the buttery by the leave of God
and Master Barnes: and his men be good fellows, so it is; if they be
not, let them go snick up[216].
[_Exit.
Enter_ NICHOLAS _with the tables_.
MR BAR. So, set them down.
Mistress Goursey, how do you like this game?
MRS GOUR. Well, sir.
MR BAR. Can ye play at it?
MRS GOUR. A little, sir.
MR BAR. Faith, so can my wife.
MR GOUR. Why, then, Master Barnes, and if you please,
Our wives shall try the quarrel 'twixt us two,
And we'll look on.
MR BAR. I am content. What, women[217], will you play?
MRS GOUR. I care not greatly.
MRS BAR. Nor I, but that I think she'll play me false.
MR GOUR. I'll see she shall not.
MRS BAR. Nay, sir, she will be sure you shall not see;
You, of all men, shall not mark her hand;
She hath such close conveyance in her play.
MR GOUR. Is she so cunning grown? Come, come, let's see.
MRS GOUR. Yea, Mistress Barnes, will ye not house your jests,
But let them roam abroad so carelessly?
Faith, if your jealous tongue utter another,
I'll cross ye with a jest, and ye were my mother.--
Come, shall we play? [_Aside_.]
MRS BAR. Ay, what shall we play a game?
MRS GOUR. A pound a game.
MR GOUR. How, wife?
MRS GOUR. Faith, husband, not a farthing less.
MR GOUR. It is too much; a shilling were good game.
MRS GOUR. No, we'll be ill-huswives once;
You have been oft ill husbands: let's alone.
MR BAR. Wife, will you play so much?
MRS BAR. I would be loth to be so frank a gamester
As Mistress Goursey is; and yet for once
I'll play a pound a game as well as she.
MR BAR. Go to, you'll have your will
[_Offer to go from them_.
MRS BAR. Come, there's my stake.
MRS GOUR. And there's mine.
MRS BAR. Throw for the dice. Ill luck! then they are yours.
MR BAR. Master Goursey, who says that gaming's bad,
When such good angels[218] walk 'twixt every cast?
MR GOUR. This is not noble sport, but royal play.
MR BAR. It must be so, where royals[218] walk so fast.
MRS BAR. Play right, I pray.
MRS GOUR. Why, so I do.
MRS BAR. Where stands your man?
MRS GOUR. In his right place.
MRS BAR. Good faith, I think ye play me foul an ace.
MR BAR. No, wife, she plays ye true.
MRS BAR. Peace, husband, peace; I'll not be judg'd by you.
MRS GOUR. Husband, Master Barnes, pray, both go walk!
We cannot play if standers-by do talk.
MR GOUR. Well, to your game; we will not trouble ye.
[_Go from them_.
MRS GOUR. Where stands your man now?
MRS BAR. Doth he not stand right?
MRS GOUR. It stands between the points.
MRS BAR. And that's my spite.
But yet methinks the dice runs much uneven.
That I throw but deuce-ace and you eleven.
MRS GOUR. And yet you see that I cast down the hill.
MRS BAR. Ay, I beshrew ye, 'tis not with my will.
MRS GOUR. Do ye beshrew me?
MRS BAR. No, I beshrew the dice,
That turn you up more at once than me at twice.
MRS GOUR. Well, you shall see them turn for you anon.
MRS BAR. But I care not for them, when your game is done.
MRS GOUR. My game! what game?
MRS BAR. Your game, your game at tables.
MRS GOUR. Well, mistress, well; I have read Aesop's fables,
And know your moral meaning well enough.
MRS BAR. Lo, you'll be angry now! here's[219] good stuff.
MR GOUR. How now, women?[220] who hath won the game?
MRS GOUR. Nobody yet.
MR BAR. Your wife's the fairest for't.
MRS BAR. Ay, in your eye.
MRS GOUR. How do you mean?
MRS BAR. He holds you fairer for't than I.
MRS GOUR. For what, forsooth?
MRS BAR. Good gamester, for your game.
MR BAR. Well, try it out; 'tis all but in the bearing[221].
MRS BAR. Nay, if it come to bearing, she'll be best.
MRS GOUR. Why, you're as good a bearer as the rest.
MRS BAR. Nay, that's not so; you bear one man too many.
MRS GOUR. Better do so than bear not any.
MR BAR. Beshrew me, but my wife's jests grow too bitter;
Plainer speeches for her were more fitter[222]:
Malice lies embowelled in her tongue,
And new hatch'd hate makes every jest a wrong. [_Aside_.]
MRS GOUR. Look ye, mistress, now I hit ye.
MRS BAR. Why, ay, you never use to miss a blot[223],
Especially when it stands so fair to hit.
MRS GOUR. How mean ye, Mistress Barnes?
MRS BAR. That Mistress Goursey's in the hitting vein.
MRS GOUR. I hot[224] your man.
MRS BAR. Ay, ay, my man, my man; but, had I known,
I would have had my man stood nearer home.
MRS GOUR. Why, had ye kept your man in his right place,
I should not then have hit him with an ace.
MRS BAR. Right, by the Lord! a plague upon the bones!
MRS GOUR. And a hot mischief on the curser too!
MR BAR. How now, wife?
MR GOUR. Why, what's the matter, woman?
MRS GOUR. It is no matter; I am--
MRS BAR. Ay, you are--
MRS GOUR. What am I?
MRS BAR. Why, that's as you will be ever.
MRS GOUR. That's every day as good as Barnes's wife.
MRS BAR. And better too: then, what needs all this trouble?
A single horse is worse than that bears double.
MR BAR. Wife, go to, have regard to what you say;
Let not your words pass forth the verge of reason,
But keep within the bounds of modesty;
For ill-report doth like a bailiff stand,
To pound the straying and the wit-lost tongue,
And makes it forfeit into folly's hands.
Well, wife, you know it is no honest part
To entertain such guests with jests and wrongs:
What will the neighbouring country vulgar say,
When as they hear that you fell out at dinner?
Forsooth, they'll call it a pot-quarrel straight;
The best they'll name it is a woman's jangling.
Go to, be rul'd, be rul'd.
MRS BAR. God's Lord, be rul'd, be rul'd!
What, think ye I have such a baby's wit,
To have a rod's correction for my tongue?
School infancy! I am of age to speak,
And I know when to speak: shall I be chid
For such a--
MRS GOUR. What-a? nay, mistress, speak it out;
I scorn your stopp'd compares: compare not me
To any but your equals, Mistress Barnes.
MR GOUR. Peace, wife, be quiet.