Masters of the Theatre

by Delphi Classics

Of all sufficient young heirs in town,

  Whose bonds are current for commodity;

  On th’ other side, the merchants’ forms, and others,

  That without help of any second broker,

  Who would expect a share, will trust such parcels:

  In the third square, the very street and sign

  Where the commodity dwells, and does but wait

  To be deliver’d, be it pepper, soap,

  Hops, or tobacco, oatmeal, woad, or cheeses.

  All which you may so handle, to enjoy

  To your own use, and never stand obliged.

  KAS. I’faith! is he such a fellow?

  FACE. Why, Nab here knows him.

  And then for making matches for rich widows,

  Young gentlewomen, heirs, the fortunat’st man!

  He’s sent to, far and near, all over England,

  To have his counsel, and to know their fortunes.

  KAS. God’s will, my suster shall see him.

  FACE. I’ll tell you, sir,

  What he did tell me of Nab. It’s a strange thing: —

  By the way, you must eat no cheese, Nab, it breeds melancholy,

  And that same melancholy breeds worms; but pass it: —

  He told me, honest Nab here was ne’er at tavern

  But once in’s life!

  DRUG. Truth, and no more I was not.

  FACE. And then he was so sick —

  DRUG. Could he tell you that too?

  FACE. How should I know it?

  DRUG. In troth we had been a shooting,

  And had a piece of fat ram-mutton to supper,

  That lay so heavy o’ my stomach —

  FACE. And he has no head

  To bear any wine; for what with the noise of the fidlers,

  And care of his shop, for he dares keep no servants —

  DRUG. My head did so ach —

  FACE. And he was fain to be brought home,

  The doctor told me: and then a good old woman —

  DRUG. Yes, faith, she dwells in Sea-coal-lane, — did cure me,

  With sodden ale, and pellitory of the wall;

  Cost me but two-pence. I had another sickness

  Was worse than that.

  FACE. Ay, that was with the grief

  Thou took’st for being cess’d at eighteen-pence,

  For the water-work.

  DRUG. In truth, and it was like

  T’ have cost me almost my life.

  FACE. Thy hair went off?

  DRUG. Yes, sir; ’twas done for spight.

  FACE. Nay, so says the doctor.

  KAS. Pray thee, tobacco-boy, go fetch my suster;

  I’ll see this learned boy before I go;

  And so shall she.

  FACE. Sir, he is busy now:

  But if you have a sister to fetch hither,

  Perhaps your own pains may command her sooner;

  And he by that time will be free.

  KAS. I go.

  [EXIT.]

  FACE. Drugger, she’s thine: the damask! —

  [EXIT ABEL.]

  Subtle and I

  Must wrestle for her.

  [ASIDE.]

  — Come on, master Dapper,

  You see how I turn clients here away,

  To give your cause dispatch; have you perform’d

  The ceremonies were enjoin’d you?

  DAP. Yes, of the vinegar,

  And the clean shirt.

  FACE. ’Tis well: that shirt may do you

  More worship than you think. Your aunt’s a-fire,

  But that she will not shew it, t’ have a sight of you.

  Have you provided for her grace’s servants?

  DAP. Yes, here are six score Edward shillings.

  FACE. Good!

  DAP. And an old Harry’s sovereign.

  FACE. Very good!

  DAP. And three James shillings, and an Elizabeth groat,

  Just twenty nobles.

  FACE. O, you are too just.

  I would you had had the other noble in Maries.

  DAP. I have some Philip and Maries.

  FACE. Ay, those same

  Are best of all: where are they? Hark, the doctor.

  [ENTER SUBTLE, DISGUISED LIKE A PRIEST OF FAIRY,

  WITH A STRIPE OF CLOTH.]

  SUB [IN A FEIGNED VOICE]. Is yet her grace’s cousin come?

  FACE. He is come.

  SUB. And is he fasting?

  FACE. Yes.

  SUB. And hath cried hum?

  FACE. Thrice, you must answer.

  DAP. Thrice.

  SUB. And as oft buz?

  FACE. If you have, say.

  DAP. I have.

  SUB. Then, to her cuz,

  Hoping that he hath vinegar’d his senses,

  As he was bid, the Fairy queen dispenses,

  By me, this robe, the petticoat of fortune;

  Which that he straight put on, she doth importune.

  And though to fortune near be her petticoat,

  Yet nearer is her smock, the queen doth note:

  And therefore, ev’n of that a piece she hath sent

  Which, being a child, to wrap him in was rent;

  And prays him for a scarf he now will wear it,

  With as much love as then her grace did tear it,

  About his eyes,

  [THEY BLIND HIM WITH THE RAG,]

  to shew he is fortunate.

  And, trusting unto her to make his state,

  He’ll throw away all worldly pelf about him;

  Which that he will perform, she doth not doubt him.

  FACE. She need not doubt him, sir. Alas, he has nothing,

  But what he will part withal as willingly,

  Upon her grace’s word — throw away your purse —

  As she would ask it; — handkerchiefs and all —

  [HE THROWS AWAY, AS THEY BID HIM.]

  She cannot bid that thing, but he’ll obey. —

  If you have a ring about you, cast it off,

  Or a silver seal at your wrist; her grace will send

  Her fairies here to search you, therefore deal

  Directly with her highness: if they find

  That you conceal a mite, you are undone.

  DAP. Truly, there’s all.

  FACE. All what?

  DAP. My money; truly.

  FACE. Keep nothing that is transitory about you.

  [ASIDE TO SUBTLE.]

  Bid Dol play music. —

  [DOL PLAYS ON THE CITTERN WITHIN.]

  Look, the elves are come.

  To pinch you, if you tell not truth. Advise you.

  [THEY PINCH HIM.]

  DAP. O! I have a paper with a spur-ryal in’t.

  FACE. Ti, ti.

  They knew’t, they say.

  SUB. Ti, ti, ti, ti. He has more yet.

  FACE. Ti, ti-ti-ti.

  [ASIDE TO SUB.]

  In the other pocket.

  SUB. Titi, titi, titi, titi, titi.

  They must pinch him or he will never confess, they say.

  [THEY PINCH HIM AGAIN.]

  DAP. O, O!

  FACE. Nay, pray you, hold: he is her grace’s nephew,

  Ti, ti, ti? What care you? good faith, you shall care. —

  Deal plainly, sir, and shame the fairies. Shew

  You are innocent.

  DAP. By this good light, I have nothing.

  SUB. Ti, ti, ti, ti, to, ta. He does equivocate she says:

  Ti, ti do ti, ti ti do, ti da;

  and swears by the LIGHT when he is blinded.

  DAP. By this good DARK, I have nothing but a half-crown

  Of gold about my wrist, that my love gave me;

  And a leaden heart I wore since she forsook me.

  FACE. I thought ’twas something. And would you incur

  Your aunt’s displeasure for these trifles? Come,

  I had rather you had thrown away twenty half-crowns.

  [TAKES IT OFF.]

&n
bsp; You may wear your leaden heart still. —

  [ENTER DOL HASTILY.]

  How now!

  SUB. What news, Dol?

  DOL. Yonder’s your knight, sir Mammon.

  FACE. ‘Ods lid, we never thought of him till now!

  Where is he?

  DOL. Here hard by: he is at the door.

  SUB. And you are not ready now! Dol, get his suit.

  [EXIT DOL.]

  He must not be sent back.

  FACE. O, by no means.

  What shall we do with this same puffin here,

  Now he’s on the spit?

  SUB. Why, lay him back awhile,

  With some device.

  [RE-ENTER DOL, WITH FACE’S CLOTHES.]

  — Ti, ti, ti, ti, ti, ti, Would her grace speak with me?

  I come. — Help, Dol!

  [KNOCKING WITHOUT.]

  FACE [SPEAKS THROUGH THE KEYHOLE]. Who’s there? sir Epicure,

  My master’s in the way. Please you to walk

  Three or four turns, but till his back be turned,

  And I am for you. — Quickly, Dol!

  SUB. Her grace

  Commends her kindly to you, master Dapper.

  DAP. I long to see her grace.

  SUB. She now is set

  At dinner in her bed, and she has sent you

  From her own private trencher, a dead mouse,

  And a piece of gingerbread, to be merry withal,

  And stay your stomach, lest you faint with fasting:

  Yet if you could hold out till she saw you, she says,

  It would be better for you.

  FACE. Sir, he shall

  Hold out, an ‘twere this two hours, for her highness;

  I can assure you that. We will not lose

  All we have done. —

  SUB. He must not see, nor speak

  To any body, till then.

  FACE. For that we’ll put, sir,

  A stay in’s mouth.

  SUB. Of what?

  FACE. Of gingerbread.

  Make you it fit. He that hath pleas’d her grace

  Thus far, shall not now crincle for a little. —

  Gape, sir, and let him fit you.

  [THEY THRUST A GAG OF GINGERBREAD IN HIS MOUTH.]

  SUB. Where shall we now

  Bestow him?

  DOL. In the privy.

  SUB. Come along, sir,

  I now must shew you Fortune’s privy lodgings.

  FACE. Are they perfumed, and his bath ready?

  SUB. All:

  Only the fumigation’s somewhat strong.

  FACE [SPEAKING THROUGH THE KEYHOLE].

  Sir Epicure, I am yours, sir, by and by.

  [EXEUNT WITH DAPPER.]

  ACT 4

  SCENE 1

  A ROOM IN LOVEWIT’S HOUSE.

  ENTER FACE AND MAMMON.

  FACE. O sir, you’re come in the only finest time. —

  MAM. Where’s master?

  FACE. Now preparing for projection, sir.

  Your stuff will be all changed shortly.

  MAM. Into gold?

  FACE. To gold and silver, sir.

  MAM. Silver I care not for.

  FACE. Yes, sir, a little to give beggars.

  MAM. Where’s the lady?

  FACE. At hand here. I have told her such brave things of you,

  Touching your bounty, and your noble spirit —

  MAM. Hast thou?

  FACE. As she is almost in her fit to see you.

  But, good sir, no divinity in your conference,

  For fear of putting her in rage. —

  MAM. I warrant thee.

  FACE. Six men [sir] will not hold her down: and then,

  If the old man should hear or see you —

  MAM. Fear not.

  FACE. The very house, sir, would run mad. You know it,

  How scrupulous he is, and violent,

  ‘Gainst the least act of sin. Physic, or mathematics,

  Poetry, state, or bawdry, as I told you,

  She will endure, and never startle; but

  No word of controversy.

  MAM. I am school’d, good Ulen.

  FACE. And you must praise her house, remember that,

  And her nobility.

  MAM. Let me alone:

  No herald, no, nor antiquary, Lungs,

  Shall do it better. Go.

  FACE [ASIDE]. Why, this is yet

  A kind of modern happiness, to have

  Dol Common for a great lady.

  [EXIT.]

  MAM. Now, Epicure,

  Heighten thyself, talk to her all in gold;

  Rain her as many showers as Jove did drops

  Unto his Danae; shew the god a miser,

  Compared with Mammon. What! the stone will do’t.

  She shall feel gold, taste gold, hear gold, sleep gold;

  Nay, we will concumbere gold: I will be puissant,

  And mighty in my talk to her. —

  [RE-ENTER FACE, WITH DOL RICHLY DRESSED.]

  Here she comes.

  FACE. To him, Dol, suckle him. — This is the noble knight,

  I told your ladyship —

  MAM. Madam, with your pardon,

  I kiss your vesture.

  DOL. Sir, I were uncivil

  If I would suffer that; my lip to you, sir.

  MAM. I hope my lord your brother be in health, lady.

  DOL. My lord, my brother is, though I no lady, sir.

  FACE [ASIDE]. Well said, my Guinea bird.

  MAM. Right noble madam —

  FACE [ASIDE]. O, we shall have most fierce idolatry.

  MAM. ’Tis your prerogative.

  DOL. Rather your courtesy.

  MAM. Were there nought else to enlarge your virtues to me,

  These answers speak your breeding and your blood.

  DOL. Blood we boast none, sir, a poor baron’s daughter.

  MAM. Poor! and gat you? profane not. Had your father

  Slept all the happy remnant of his life

  After that act, lien but there still, and panted,

  He had done enough to make himself, his issue,

  And his posterity noble.

  DOL. Sir, although

  We may be said to want the gilt and trappings,

  The dress of honour, yet we strive to keep

  The seeds and the materials.

  MAM. I do see

  The old ingredient, virtue, was not lost,

  Nor the drug money used to make your compound.

  There is a strange nobility in your eye,

  This lip, that chin! methinks you do resemble

  One of the Austriac princes.

  FACE. Very like!

  [ASIDE.]

  Her father was an Irish costermonger.

  MAM. The house of Valois just had such a nose,

  And such a forehead yet the Medici

  Of Florence boast.

  DOL. Troth, and I have been liken’d

  To all these princes.

  FACE [ASIDE]. I’ll be sworn, I heard it.

  MAM. I know not how! it is not any one,

  But e’en the very choice of all their features.

  FACE [ASIDE]. I’ll in, and laugh.

  [EXIT.]

  MAM. A certain touch, or air,

  That sparkles a divinity, beyond

  An earthly beauty!

  DOL. O, you play the courtier.

  MAM. Good lady, give me leave —

  DOL. In faith, I may not,

  To mock me, sir.

  MAM. To burn in this sweet flame;

  The phoenix never knew a nobler death.

  DOL. Nay, now you court the courtier, and destroy

  What you would build. This art, sir, in your words,

  Calls your whole faith in question.

  MAM. By my soul —

  DOL. Nay, oaths are made of the same air, sir.

  MAM. Nature

  Never bestow’d upon mortality

  A more unb
lamed, a more harmonious feature;

  She play’d the step-dame in all faces else:

  Sweet Madam, let me be particular —

  DOL. Particular, sir! I pray you know your distance.

  MAM. In no ill sense, sweet lady; but to ask

  How your fair graces pass the hours? I see

  You are lodged here, in the house of a rare man,

  An excellent artist; but what’s that to you?

  DOL. Yes, sir; I study here the mathematics,

  And distillation.

  MAM. O, I cry your pardon.

  He’s a divine instructor! can extract

  The souls of all things by his art; call all

  The virtues, and the miracles of the sun,

  Into a temperate furnace; teach dull nature

  What her own forces are. A man, the emperor

  Has courted above Kelly; sent his medals

  And chains, to invite him.

  DOL. Ay, and for his physic, sir —

  MAM. Above the art of Aesculapius,

  That drew the envy of the thunderer!

  I know all this, and more.

  DOL. Troth, I am taken, sir,

  Whole with these studies, that contemplate nature.

  MAM. It is a noble humour; but this form

  Was not intended to so dark a use.

  Had you been crooked, foul, of some coarse mould

  A cloister had done well; but such a feature

  That might stand up the glory of a kingdom,

  To live recluse! is a mere soloecism,

  Though in a nunnery. It must not be.

  I muse, my lord your brother will permit it:

  You should spend half my land first, were I he.

  Does not this diamond better on my finger,

  Than in the quarry?

  DOL. Yes.

  MAM. Why, you are like it.

  You were created, lady, for the light.

  Here, you shall wear it; take it, the first pledge

  Of what I speak, to bind you to believe me.

  DOL. In chains of adamant?

  MAM. Yes, the strongest bands.

  And take a secret too — here, by your side,

  Doth stand this hour, the happiest man in Europe.

  DOL. You are contended, sir!

  MAM. Nay, in true being,

  The envy of princes and the fear of states.

  DOL. Say you so, sir Epicure?

  MAM. Yes, and thou shalt prove it,

  Daughter of honour. I have cast mine eye

  Upon thy form, and I will rear this beauty

  Above all styles.

  DOL. You mean no treason, sir?

  MAM. No, I will take away that jealousy.

  I am the lord of the philosopher’s stone,

  And thou the lady.

  DOL. How, sir! have you that?

  MAM. I am the master of the mystery.

  This day the good old wretch here o’ the house

  Has made it for us: now he’s at projection.

  Think therefore thy first wish now, let me hear it;