Volpone and Other Plays (52 page)

100     virtuous and staid ignorance; and next to truth, a confirmed error does well; such a one the author knows where to find him.

‘It is further covenanted, concluded, and agreed that how great soever the expectation be, no person here is to expect more than he knows, or better ware than a Fair will afford; neither to look back to the Sword-and-buckler age of Smithfield, but content himself with the present. Instead of a little Davy to take toll o' the bawds, the author doth promise a strutting horsecourser with a leer drunkard, two or three to attend him in as good
equipage
as you would wish. And then for Kindheart, the tooth-drawer,

110      a fine oily pig-woman with her tapster to bid you welcome, and a consort of roarers for music. A wise Justice of Peace
meditant
, instead of a juggler with an ape. A civil cut-purse
searchant
. A sweet singer of new ballads
allurant;
and as fresh an hypocrite as ever was broached
rampant
. If there be never a
servant-monster
i' the Fair, who can help it? he says; nor a nest of antics? He is loth to make nature afraid in his plays, like those that beget
Tales, Tempests
, and such like drolleries, to mix his head with other men's heels, let the concupiscence of jigs and dances reign as strong as it will amongst you; yet if the puppets

120      will please anybody, they shall be entreated to come in.

‘In consideration of which, it is finally agreed by the foresaid
hearers and spectators that they neither in themselves conceal, nor suffer by them to be concealed, any state-decipherer, or politic picklock of the scene, so solemnly ridiculous as to search out who was meant by the Gingerbread-woman, who by the Hobby-horse-man, who by the Costermonger, nay, who by their wares. Or that will pretend to affirm, on his own inspired ignorance, what
Mirror
of Magistrates is meant by the Justice, what great lady by the Pig-woman, what concealed statesman by the Seller of Mousetraps, and so of the rest. But that such

130      person or persons, so found, be left discovered to the mercy of the author, as a forfeiture to the stage and your laughter aforesaid. As also, such as shall so desperately or ambitiously play the fool by his place aforesaid, to
challenge
the author of scurrility because the language somewhere savours of Smithfield, the booth, and the pig-broth; or of profaneness because a madman cries, “God quit you”, or “bless you”. In witness whereof, as you have
preposterously
put to your seals already (which is your money), you will now add the other part of
suffrage
, your hands. The play shall presently begin. And though the

140      Fair be not kept in the same region that some here, perhaps, would have it, yet think that therein the author hath observed a special
decorum
, the place being as dirty as Smithfield, and as stinking every whit.

‘Howsoever, he prays you to believe his ware is still the same; else you will make him justly suspect that he that is so loath to look on a baby or an hobby – horse here, would be glad to take up a
commodity
of them, at any laughter, or loss, in another place.'

[
Exeunt
.]

I,i                       [
Littlewit's house.]

           [Enter
JOHN LITTLEWIT
,
holding a licence
.]

[
LITTLEWIT:
] A pretty conceit, and worth the finding! I ha' such luck to spin out these fine things still, and like a silk-worm, out of myself. Here's Master Barthol'60 mew Cokes, of Harrow o' th' Hill, i' th' County of Middlesex, Esquire, takes forth his licence to marry Mistress Grace Wellborn of the said place and county –and when does he take it forth? Today! The four and twentieth of August! Barthol' mew Day! Barthol' mew upon Barthol' mew! There's the
device!
Who would have marked such a leapfrog chance now? A very less than
ames-ace
on two dice! Well, go thy ways, John Littlewit, Proctor John Littlewit – one o' the

10    pretty wits o' Paul's, the Little-wit of London (so thou art called) and something beside. When a
quirk
or a
quiblin
does ‘scape thee, and thou dost not watch, and apprehend it, and bring it afore the constable of conceit (there now, I speak quib too), let 'em carry thee out o' the archdeacon's court into his kitchen, and make a
Jack
of thee, instead of a John. (There I am again, la!)

[
Enter
MISTRESS LITTLEWIT
.]

Win, good morrow, Win. Ay marry, Win! Now you look finely indeed, Win! This cap does
convince!
You' d not ha' worn

20      it, Win, nor ha' had it velvet, but a rough country
beaver
with a copper band, like the coney-skin woman of Budge Row! Sweet Win, let me kiss it! And her fine high shoes, like the Spanish lady! Good Win, go a little; I would fain see thee pace, pretty Win! By this fine cap, I could never leave kissing on't.

MISTRESS LITTLEWIT
: Come, indeed la, you are such a fool, still!

LITTLBWIT
: No, but half a one, Win; you are the tother half: man and wife make one fool, Win. (Good!) Is there the proctor,

30    or doctor indeed, i' the diocese, that ever had the fortune to win him such a Win! (There I am again!) I do feel conceits coming upon me, more than I am able to turn tongue to. A pox o' these pretenders to wit, your Three Cranes, Mitre, and Mermaid men! Not a corn of true salt nor a grain of right mustard amongst them all. They may stand for places or so,
again'
the next witfall, and pay twopence in a quart more for their
canary
than other men. But gi' me the man can start up a justice of wit out of six-shillings beer, and give the law to all the poets and
poet-suckers
i'town, because they are the players'
gossips!
‘Slid,

40      other men have wives as fine as the players, and as well dressed. Come hither, Win.

[
He kisses her
.]

I, ii            [
Enter
NED WINWIFE
.]

[
WINWIFE:
] Why, how now, Master Littlewit? Measuring of lips or moulding of kisses? Which is it?

LITTLEWIT
: Troth, I am a little taken with my Win's dressing here! Does't not fine, Master Winwife? How do you
apprehend
, sir? She would not ha' worn this habit. I challenge all Cheapside to show such another – Moorfields, Pimlico path, or the Exchange, in a summer evening – with a
lace
to boot, as this has. Dear Win, let Master Winwife kiss you. He comes a-wooing to our mother, Win, and may be our father perhaps, Win.

10          There's no harm in him, Win.

WINWIFE
: None i' the earth, Master Littlewit.

[
He kisses her
.]

LITTLEWIT
: I envy no man my delicates, sir.

WINWIFE
: Alas, you ha' the garden where they grow still! A wife
here with a strawberry-breath, cherry-lips, apricot-cheeks, and a soft velvet head, like a
melicotton
.

LITTLEWIT
: Good i' faith! Now dullness upon me, that I had not that before him, that I should not light on't as well as he! Velvet head!

WINWIFE
: But my taste, Master Littlewit, tends to fruit of a later kind: the sober matron, your wife's mother.

20 LITTLEWIT
: Ay! we know you are a suitor, sir. Win and I both wish you well; by this licence here, would you had her, that your two names were as fast in it, as here are a couple. Win would fain have a fine young father i' law with a feather, that her mother might
hood
it and chain it with Mistress Overdo. But you do not take the right course, Master Winwife.

WINWIFE
: No, Master Littlewit, Why?

LITTLEWIT
: You are not mad enough.

WINWIFE
: How? Is madness a right course?

LITTLEWIT
: I say nothing, but I wink upon Win. You have

30    a friend, one Master Quarlous, comes here sometimes?

WINWIFE
: Why? he makes no love to her, does he?

LITTLEWIT
: Not a
tokenworth
that ever I saw, I assure you, but –

WINWIFE
: What?

LITTLEWIT
: He is the more madcap o' the two. You do not apprehend me.

MISTRESS LITTLEWIT
: You have a hot coal i' your mouth now, you cannot hold.

LITTLEWIT
: Let me out with it, dear Win.

MISTRESS LITTLEWIT
: I' ll tell him myself.

40 
LITTLEWIT
: Do, and take all the thanks, and much good do thy pretty heart, Win.

MISTRESS LITTLEWIT
: Sir, my mother has had her
nativity-water cast
lately by the
cunning-men
in Cow Lane, and they ha' told her her fortune, and do ensure her she shall never have
happy hour, unless she marry within this
sen' night
, and when it is, it must be a madman, they say.

LITTLEWIT
: Ay, but it must be a gentleman madman.

MISTRESS LITTLEWIT
: Yes, so the tother man of Moorfields says.

50 
WINWIFE
: But does she believe ' em?

DITTLEWIT
: Yes, and has been at Bedlam twice since, every day, to inquire if any gentleman be there, or to come there, mad!

WINWIFE
: Why, this is a confederacy, a mere piece of practice upon her, by these impostors!

LITTLEWIT
: I tell her so; or else say I that they mean some young madcap-gentleman (for the devil can equivocate as well as a shopkeeper) and therefore would I advise you to be a little madder than Master Quarlous, hereafter.

WINWIFE
: Where is she? Stirring yet?

60 
LITTLEWIT
: Stirring! Yes, and studying an old elder, come from Banbury, a suitor that puts in here at meal-tide, to praise the
painful
Brethren, or pray that the
sweet singers
may be restored; says a grace as long as his breath lasts him! Sometime the spirit is so strong with him, it gets quite out of him, and then my mother, or Win, are fain to fetch it again with
malmsey
, or
aquacelestis
.

MISTRESS LITTLEWIT
: Yes indeed, we have such a tedious life with him for his diet, and his clothes too; he breaks his buttons and cracks seams at every saying he sobs out.

70 
LITTLEWIT
: He cannot abide my vocation, he says.

MISTRESS LITTLEWIT
: No, he told my mother a Proctor was a claw of the
Beast
, and that she had little less than committed abomination in marrying me so as she has done.

LITTLEWIT
: Every line, he says, that a Proctor writes, when it comes to be read in the Bishop's court, is a long black hair,
kembed
out of the tail of Antichrist.

WINWIFE
: When came this
proselyte?

LITTLEWIT
: Some three days since.

i,iii[
Enter
TOM QUARLOUS
.]

[
QUARLOUS
:] O sir, ha' you
ta' en soil
here? It's well a man may reach you after three hours running, yet! What an unmerciful companion art thou, to quit thy lodging at such ungentlemanly hours! None but a scattered covey of fiddlers, or one of these rag-rakers in dunghills, or some marrow-bone man at most, would have been up when thou wert gone abroad, by all description. I pray thee what ailest thou, thou canst not sleep? Hast thou thorns i' thy eyelids, or thistles i' thy bed?

WINWIFE
: I cannot tell. It seems you had neither i' your feet, that took this pain to find me.

10 
QUARLOUS
: No, an' I had, all the
lyam-hounds
o' the City should have drawn after you by the scent rather. Master John Littlewit! God save you, sir. 'Twas a hot night with some of us, last night, John. Shall we
pluck a hair o' the same wolf
today, Proctor John?

LITTLEWIT
: Do you remember, Master Quarlous, what we discoursed on last night?

QUARLOUS
: Not I, John. Nothing that I either discourse or do; at those times I forfeit all to forgetfulness.

LITTLEWIT
: No? not concerning Win? Look you, there she is

20    and dressed as I told you she should be. Hark you, sir, had you forgot?

QUARLOUS
: By this head, I' ll beware how I keep your company, John, when I am drunk, an' you have this dangerous memory! That's certain.

LITTLEWIT
: Why sir?

QUARLOUS
: Why? We were all a little
stained
last night, sprinkled with a cup or two, and I agreed with Proctor John here to come and do somewhat with Win (I know not what 'twas) today; and he puts me in mind on't, now; he says he was coming to

30     fetch me. – Before truth, if you have that fearful quality, John, to remember, when you are sober, John, what you promise
drunk, John, I shall take heed of you, John. For this once, I am content to wink at you. Where's your wife? Come hither, Win.

He kisseth her
.

MISTRESS LITTLEWIT
: Why, John! do you see this, John? Look you! help me, John.

LITTLEWIT
: O Win, fie, what do you mean, Win? Be womanly, Win? make an outcry to your mother, Win? Master Quarlous

40     is an honest gentleman, and our worshipful good friend, Win; and he is Master Winwife's friend, too. And Master Winwife comes a suitor to your mother, Win, as I told you before, Win, and may perhaps be our father, win. They' ll do you no harm, Win; they are both our worshipful good friends. Master Quarlous! You must know Master Quarlous, Win; you must not quarrel with Master Quarlous, Win.