THE TEMPLE DRAMATISTS 
 
 THE KNIGHT OF THE BURNING 
 PESTLE 
 
THE KNIGHT 
 
 OF THE 
 
 BURNING PESTLJ^ 
 V,* 3 ''V : ! 
 
 A Play written by 
 
 FRANCIS BEAUMONT 
 
 and 
 
 JOHN FLETCHER 
 
 < 
 
 Edited with Introduction, Notes 
 
 and Glossary by 
 
 F. W. MOORMAN 
 
 J. M. DENT AND CO. 
 
 ALDINE HOUSE : LONDON 
 I898 
 
 mm 
 
ENGL. US, fO. 
 
 put-in 
 m 
 
 
Introduction. 
 
 Literary History. The first edition of The Knight of the 
 Burning Pestle appeared in quarto form 111*1613.' The tit'le^pag;^ 
 gives no clue as to authorship, but states merely that the play, 
 entitled "The famous Historie of the Knight of the Burning 
 Pestle," was " printed for Walter Burre, and is to be sold at the 
 signe of the Crane in Paules Church-yard." This first edition, 
 however, contains the dedication of the play to Robert Keysar, 
 and thus throws some light upon the date of composition. 
 
 The play seems not to have been a success on the stage at its 
 first appearance ; perhaps its playful satire may have given offence 
 to the London citizen. A revival, however, took place in 1635, 
 and the play was acted at the court of Queen Henrietta. In Sir 
 Henry Herbert's MSS. we read, "The 28 Feb. [1636] The 
 Knight of the Burning Pestle playd by the Q[een's] men at St 
 James." 
 
 Two quarto editions appeared in 1635, and from their title- 
 pages we learn that it was " acted by her Majesties Servants at 
 the Private House in Drury Lane. The authors' names were now 
 given : 
 
 ( Francis Beaumont \ 
 Written by J and i-Gent." 
 
 I John Fletcher J 
 
 The appearance of two editions in the same year suggests that 
 v 
 
introduction. 2S The Knight of the 
 
 the play found favour on its revival. This, as Weber pointed 
 out, is further attested by a passage in Richard Brome's Sparagus 
 Garden, which was first acted in 1635. 
 
 " Rebecca. I long to see a play, and above all playes, The Knight of the 
 Burning Whak dee'.cJll'C? 
 
 '^fonylacke". .The JKhrtght of the Burning Pestle. 
 
 Aebecca. Pestle, is il ? * 1 thought of another thing ; but I would faine 
 see iu* They gaynhere's^ft grocer's boy kills a Gyant in it, and another 
 Kftle boy^hat does a^Gitizen's w/fe the daintielist but I would faine see 
 their best actor doe me : I woufd so put him too't ; they should find another 
 thing in handling of mee, I warrant 'em." 
 
 Date of Composition. The letter of the publisher, 
 Walter Burre, to Robert Keysar, which precedes the edition of 
 1 613, and in which Burre, speaking of the play, declares, " I have 
 fostered it privately in my bosom these two years," points to the 
 year 161 1 as the latest possible time at which it could have been 
 written, and suggests the year 16 10- 11 as the probable date 
 of composition. We learn from the dedication to Robert 
 Keysar that the play was produced in eight days, a fact which 
 in itself points to its double authorship, and discountenances the 
 idea that it is the work of Beaumont alone. Mr Macaulay's 
 arguments in favour of its having been written as a protest 
 against the poor reception accorded to the performance of 
 Fletcher's Faithful Shepherdess are inconclusive. Still more so are 
 those of Mr Boyle, who tries to show that the play was written 
 in 1607. {Englischc Studien, vol. xiii.) 
 
 Sources. There can be little doubt that The Knight of the 
 Burning Pestle owes direct literary allegiance to Don Quixote. The 
 spirit of Cervantes' romance is seen in the conception of Ralph, 
 
Burning Pestle s^ introduction. 
 
 and follows him through all his adventures. More especially is 
 the influence of Cervantes to be traced in Ralph's overthrow of 
 the Surgeon -barber in III. iv., which was in all probability sug- 
 gested by the victory of Don Quixote over the barber with the 
 enchanted helmet in the first part of Don Quixote. In like 
 manner, Ralph's arrival at, and conduct in, the Bell Inn, which 
 he takes for a castle, recalls the adventures of Don Quixote in the 
 inn at the outset of his chivalrous career. May we not also 
 detect in Susan, the Cobbler's daughter of Milk Street, a reminis- 
 cence of the immortal Donna Dulcinea del Toboso, so skilful in 
 salting hams ? Further, in the Spanish romance and the English 
 play we have the same playful satire, directed against the high- 
 flown and extravagant books of chivalric adventure. Don Quixote, 
 the first part of which was first published in 1605, was not 
 translated into English till Shelton's version appeared in 161 2, 
 but this in no wise precludes the possibility of Beaumont and 
 Fletcher's acquaintance with the romance. The dramas of 
 Beaumont and Fletcher are specially characterised by their 
 frequent borrowings from the Spanish drama and the Spanish 
 romance, and point clearly to the fact, that at least one of the 
 two dramatists was well acquainted with the Spanish language. 
 
 The title, The Knight of the Burning Pestle, seems to have been 
 taken from that of a play which is mentioned in the list of 
 those acted at the Court revels in 1579 : The Historic of the Knight 
 in the Burning Rock, shewen at Whitehall on Shrove Sondaie at 
 night, enacted by the Earle of Warwick's Servaunts." Of this 
 play the title alone has come down to our times, but it is 
 extremely doubtful whether Beaumont and Fletcher borrowed 
 from it anything else. 
 
 The device of introducing the comments of the spectators on 
 
Introduction. <^5 The Knight of the 
 
 the development of the play is to be found in Ben Jon son's 
 Every Man out of his Humour, though here the remarks made 
 serve to express the author's own ideas of dramatic criticism, 
 and no satiric humour is intended. In the character of Puntar- 
 volo in the same work of Jonson's, we see an early sketch of the 
 fantastic knight-errant, and a forerunner not only of the prentice 
 Ralph, but of the Knight of La Mancha as well. Of the class 
 of plays dealing with extravagant adventure which The Knight of 
 the Burning Pestle burlesques, it is Heywood's Four Prentices of 
 London which Beaumont and Fletcher single out for the special 
 butt of their ridicule. It deals with the impossible adventures 
 of the four apprentices, who join Robert Duke of Normandy on 
 his crusade, and who are wrecked at sea and cast upon different 
 shores. One of the four brothers, Eustace, is a grocer's appren- 
 tice, and declares on setting out on his adventurous career : 
 
 '* For my Trades sake, if good success I have, 
 The Grocer's Arms shall in my ensign wave." 
 
 The adventures of Ralph at the Court of Moldavia are a 
 burlesque upon the very similar adventures of Eustace's brother 
 Guy at the court of the King of France. Plays of this sort must 
 have won favour with the citizens of London, and above all with 
 their apprentices, so that the satire of The Knight of the Burning 
 Pestle is directed against the public that favoured such plays, as 
 well as against the dramatists that wrote them. Here and there 
 the satire seems to be levelled at Shakespeare himself. Thus 
 Ralph's quotation in the Induction from Hotspur's well-known 
 speech in i Henry IV., Act I. Sc. iii., is of this nature, and the 
 authors seem to have overlooked the fact that Shakespeare himself 
 intended this speech to be mere bluster. Further, Humphrey's 
 words in Act II. Sc. i., as Prof. Koppel points out, 
 viii 
 
Burning Pestle && introduction. 
 
 " Good-night, twenty good-nights, and twenty more, 
 And twenty more good-nights that makes three score " ; 
 
 are very much like a parody on the words of Romeo : 
 
 u Good-night, good-night ! parting is such sweet sorrow, 
 That I shall say good-night till it be morrow. " 
 
 Rom. and Jul., II. ii. 
 
 Authorship. The problem of determining exactly what 
 share must be allotted to Beaumont and Fletcher respectively in 
 the composition of the dramas which go under their joint names 
 is still one of peculiar difficulty, in spite of the fact that so much 
 of Fletcher's work was undertaken after Beaumont had ceased to 
 write. Most critics agree in assigning to Beaumont the chief 
 share in The Knight of the Burning Pestle. As Mr Macaulay points 
 out, the burlesque element, which plays so important a part in the 
 play, is wholly wanting in the works of Fletcher, but of frequent 
 occurrence in The Woman Hater (1607), and also found in The 
 Triumph of Honour, a play which tradition has allotted to 
 Beaumont alone. Moreover, the sparkling humour with which 
 our play abounds seems to have been as essentially the gift of 
 Beaumont as the wit of repartee was characteristic of Fletcher. 
 The usual verse tests regularity of the verse, comparative 
 rarity of double-endings, and frequent use of prose all point, 
 further, to the workmanship of Beaumont. But while we allow 
 Beaumont the chief part in the work, it is certainly rash to deny 
 altogether, as Oliphant and Macaulay have done, Fletcher's 
 collaboration, till we know exactly in what way the two 
 dramatists combined in the production of a- play. The theme 
 of the romantic comedy setting forth the love adventures of 
 
introduction. The Knight of the 
 
 Jasper and Luce points to Fletcher's share in the conception of 
 the plot, if not in its execution. The fact, too, that the play was 
 written in eight days suggests, as was pointed out above, joint 
 authorship. The character of the laughter-loving and laughter- 
 working Merrythought, who has very little in common with the 
 Matthew Merrygreek of Udall's Ralph Roister Dohter, is almost 
 certainly the creation of Beaumont. 
 
 Its place in the Klizabethan Drama. In its happy 
 * blending of pure comedy with the mock-heroic and the burlesque, 
 The Knight of the Burning Pestle holds a unique place in the field 
 of the English drama, though in the combination of romance, 
 fairy-tale, and burlesque of the Midsummer Night's Dream we may 
 trace a possible forerunner. Our English burlesque literature, 
 though it starts with Chaucer's Rime of Sir Thopas, has been of 
 slow and uncertain growth, and has flourished best in our own 
 nineteenth century. Beaumont and Fletcher's interweaving of 
 burlesque with pure comedy finds a model too in Don Quixote, 
 where the mock-heroic adventures of the knight are broken in 
 upon by episodes of pure romance. The adventures of Ralph, 
 however, are, up to a certain point, not merely episodes imbedded 
 in the central plot and serving as a foil to the main scenes, but 
 are actually interwoven with the main thread of the play. With 
 the adventure in the barber's shop, however, the connection 
 becomes lost, and the fortunes of the two heroes, Jasper and 
 Ralph, become divergent. In the trenchant, though genial satire 
 of the play we see a double-edged sword at work, dealing blows 
 at one moment at the extravagant romantic plays of Hey wood 
 and his fellows ; at another, at the tyranny exercised upon play- 
 wrights by the dunce-critics of the London shops. The literature 
 
Burning Pestle && introduction. 
 
 of the period is full of references to the habit adopted by court- I 
 gallants of taking up seats upon the stage itself at the time of a ^ 
 performance, and of interrupting the course of the play by 
 untimely remarks. From the drama before us it would seem 
 that the wealthy London citizen had also begun to claim this 
 privilege (which might be procured for an extra sixpence), and 
 threatened to exert a tyranny over the stage-representations of 
 the time. It was with the purpose of checking this abuse that 
 the authors now held up to ridicule the Citizen and his Wife. 
 Their total lack of appreciation, their ill-judged sympathies and\ 
 grotesque demands become in turn the object of scathing satire, \ 
 and though from references in the Prologue to the printed edi- 
 tions of 1635 it would seem that the London citizens resented 
 this satire, yet it doubtless had a salutary effect. 
 
 In the use of satire, Beaumont if we allow him to be sole 
 author of these mock-heroic scenes reminds us of Cervantes 
 rather than of the author of Hudibras. Piercing and trenchant 
 as it is, Beaumont's satire is genial and kindly, the outcome of 
 good humour, and not of bitterness of soul. 
 
 But our interest is not wholly in the satire of the play ; the 
 romantic parts are admirably constructed, giving us a plot,' 
 which in mastery of execution challenges Ben Jonson's best, \ 
 while the character of Merrythought, with his blithe, careless 
 laughter, gives to the play all the joyousness and light-heartedness 
 of youth. 
 
 The influence of The Knight of the Burning Pestle is seen two 
 generations later in Elkanah Settle's City Ramble, or a Play-house 
 Wedding. The plot is closely modelled on the earlier work, and 
 we see the same interruptions on the part of the Citizen and his 
 Wife. The first two speeches of Settle's two characters, Don 
 
introduction. ^ Burning Pestle 
 
 Garcia and Carlo his apprentice, are borrowed word for word 
 from the opening speeches of Venturewell and Jasper. 
 
 In Kirkstall's farce, The Encounter (1672), we see Ralph's 
 adventure with the surgeon-barber directly imitated. 
 
 Bibliography. The text of this edition of The Knight of the 
 Burning Pestle follows, with one or two deviations, that of Dyce's 
 scholarly and painstaking edition of Beaumont and Fletcher's 
 works, 1843. I am also very largely indebted to Dyce for the 
 notes. Mention may also be made here of the following works 
 and articles which offer criticism of the play : 
 
 G. C. Macaulay : Francis Beaumont, A Critical Study, 1883. 
 
 E. Koppel : Quellen-Studien zu den Dramen, Ben Jonsoti's, John 
 Mar stones und Beaumont und Fletcher, 1 895. 
 
 R. Boyle : Articles in the Englische Studien, vols, v.-x., and xiii. 
 
 B. Leonhardt : Article in Englische Studien, vol. xii. 
 
 +s*x&2x*^> 
 
By sitting on the stage you have a signd patent to 
 engrosse the whole commodity of Censure; may 
 lawfully presume to be a Girder ; and stand at the 
 helme to steere the passage of scaenes ; yet no man 
 shall once offer to hinder you from obtaining the 
 title of an insolent over-weening Coxcombe. . . . 
 If you know not y e author, you may raile against 
 him, and perad venture so behave your selfe, that 
 you may enforce the author to know you. 
 
 Dekker: The Gull's Horn-Book, 
 1609. 
 
THE KNIGHT OF THE BURNING 
 PESTLE 
 
TO HIS MANY WAYS ENDEARED 
 FRIEND, MASTER ROBERT KEYSAR. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 This unfortunate child, who, in eight days (as 
 lately I have learned) was begot and born, soon after 
 was by his parents (perhaps because he was so unlike 
 his brethren) exposed to the wide world, who, for want 
 of judgment, or not understanding the privy mark of 
 *rony about it (which shewed it was no offspring of any 
 vulgar brain), utterly rejected it; so that, for want of 
 acceptance, it was even ready to give up the ghost, and 
 was in danger to have been smothered in perpetual 
 oblivion, if you (out of your direct antipathy to ingrati- 
 tude), had not been moved both to relieve and cherish 
 it : wherein I must needs commend both your judgment, 
 understanding, and singular love to good wits. You 
 afterwards sent it to me, yet being an infant and some- 
 what ragged : I have fostered it privately in my bosom 
 these two years; and now, to shew my love, return it 
 to you, clad in good lasting clothes, which scarce 
 
 3 
 
To Robert Keysar. =s Burning Pestle 
 
 memory will wear out, and able to speak for itself; and 
 withal, as it telleth me, desirous to try his fortune in the 
 world, where, if yet it be welcome, father, foster-father, 
 nurse, and child all have their desired end. If it be 
 slighted or traduced, it hopes his father will beget him 
 a younger brother, who shall revenge his quarrel, and 
 challenge the world either of fond and merely literal 
 interpretation or illiterate misprision. Perhaps it will 
 be thought to be of the race of Don Quixote ; we both 
 may confidently swear it his elder above a year ; and 
 therefore may (by virtue of his birthright) challenge 
 the wall of him. I doubt not but they will meet in 
 their adventures, and I hope the breaking of one staff 
 will make them friends ; and perhaps they will combine 
 themselves, and travel through the world to seek their 
 adventures. So I commit him to his good fortune, and 
 myself to your love. Your assured friend, 
 
 W. B[URRE]. 
 
TO THE READERS OF THIS COMEDY. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 The world is so nice in these our times, that for 
 apparel there is no fashion ; for music (which is a rare 
 art, though now slighted) no instrument; for diet, none 
 but the French kickshaws that are delicate ; and for plays, 
 no invention but that which now runneth an invective way, 
 touching some particular persons, or else it is contemned 
 before it is thoroughly understood. This is all that I 
 have to say : that the author had no intent to wrong any 
 one in this comedy ; but, as a merry passage, here and 
 there interlaced it with delight, which he hopes will please 
 all, and be hurtful to none. 
 
PROLOGUE. 
 
 Where the bee can suck no honey, she leaves her sting 
 behind ; and where the bear cannot find origanum to heal 
 his grief, he blasteth all other leaves with his breath. We 
 fear it is like to fare so with us ; that, seeing you cannot 
 draw from our labours sweet content, you leave behind 
 you a sour mislike, and with open reproach blame our 
 good meaning, because you cannot reap the wonted mirth. 
 Our intent was at this time to move inward delight, not 
 outward lightness ; and to breed (if it might be) soft 
 smiling, not loud laughing ; knowing it, to the wise, to be 
 a great pleasure to hear counsel mixed with wit, as to the 
 foolish, to have sport mingled with rudeness. They were 
 banished the theatre of Athens, and from Rome hissed, 
 that brought parasites on the stage with apish actions, or 
 fools with uncivil habits, or courtezans with immodest 
 words. We have endeavoured to be as far from un- 
 
 6 
 
Burning Pestle s^ Prologue. 
 
 seemly speeches, to make your ears glow, as we hope 
 you will be free from unkind reports, or mistaking the 
 authors' intention, (who never aimed at any one par- 
 ticular in this play,) to make our cheeks blush. And 
 thus I leave it, and thee to thine own censure, to like 
 or dislike. Vale. 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONS 
 
 Speaker of the Prologue. 
 
 A Citizen. 
 
 His Wife. 
 
 Ralph, his Apprentice. 
 
 Boys. 
 
 Venturewell, a Merchant. 
 
 Humphrey. 
 
 Merrythought. 
 
 [**"*> l His Sons. 
 Michael, J 
 
 _ ' 1 Apprentices. 
 George, J 
 
 Host. 
 
 Tapster. 
 
 Barber. 
 
 Three Men, supposed captives. 
 
 Sergeant. 
 
 William Hammerton. 
 
 George Greengoose. 
 
 Soldiers, and Attendants. 
 
 Luce, Daughter of Venturewell. 
 
 Mistress Merrythought. 
 
 Woman, supposed a captive. 
 
 Pompiona, Daughter of the King of Moldavia. 
 
 Scene : London and the neighbouring Country, excepting 
 Act IV. Scene ii., where it is in Moldavia. 
 
The Knight of the 
 Burning Pestle. 
 
 Induction. 
 
 Several Gentlemen sitting on Stools upon the Stage. The 
 Citizen, his Wife y and Ralph sitting below among the 
 audience. 
 
 Enter Speaker of the Prologue. 
 
 S. of ProL u From all that's near the court, from all 
 that's great, 
 ithin the compass of the city- walls, 
 We now have brought our scene jy 
 
 Citizen leaps on the Stage. 
 
 Cit. Hold your peace, goodman boy ! 
 
 S. of Prol. What do you mean, sir ? 
 
 Cit. That you have no good meaning : this seven 
 years there hath been plays at this house, I 
 have observed it, you have still girds at citizens; 
 
 9 
 
induction. 2 s The Knight of the 
 
 and now you call your play " The London 
 Merchant." Down with your title, boy ! 10 
 down with your title ! 
 
 S. of Prol. Are you a member of the noble city ? 
 
 Cit. I am. 
 
 S. of Prol. And a freeman ? 
 
 Cit. Yea, and a grocer. 
 
 S. of Prol. So, grocer, then, by your sweet favour, 
 we intend no abuse to the city. 
 
 Cit. No, sir ! yes, sir : if you were not resolved to 
 play the Jacks, what need you study for new 
 subjects, purposely to abuse your betters ? why 20 
 ^/\ could not you be contented, as well as others, 
 with "The legend of Whittington," or "The 
 Life and Death of Sir Thomas Gresham, with 
 the building of the Royal Exchange," or "The 
 story of Queen Eleanor, with the rearing of 
 London Bridge upon woolsacks ? " 
 
 S. of Prol. You seem to be an understanding man : 
 what would you have us do, sir ? 
 
 Cit. Why, present something notably in honour of 
 
 the commons of the city. 30 
 
 S. of Prol. Why, what do you say to " The Life 
 and Death of fat Drake, or the Repairing of 
 Fleet-privies ? " 
 
Burning Pestle s^ induction. 
 
 ] 
 
 Cit. I do not like that ; but I will have a citizen, 
 
 and he shall be of my own trade. 
 S. of Prol. Oh, you should have told us your mind 
 
 a month since ; our play is ready to begin 
 
 now. 
 Cit. Tiis all one for that ; I will have a grocer, and 
 
 he shall do admirable things. 40 
 
 S. of ProL What will you have him do ? 
 
 Cit. Marry, I will have him 
 
 Wife, [below.] Husband, husband ! 
 
 Ralph, [below.] Peace, mistress. 
 
 Wife. [below.] Hold thy peace, Ralph; I know 
 
 what I do, I warrant ye. Husband, husband ! 
 Cit. What sayest thou, cony ? 
 Wife, [below.'] Let him kill a lion with a pestle, 
 
 husband ! let him kill a lion with a pestle ! 
 Cit. Sjxhe 8halL~ l 7 ll Tiave him kill a lion with a 50 
 
 pestle. 
 Wife, [below.] Husband ! shall I come up, husband ? 
 Cit. Ay, cony. Ralph, help your mistress this 
 
 way. Pray, gentlemen, make her a little room. 
 
 I pray you, sir, lend me your hand to help 
 
 up my wife : I thank you, sir. So. 
 
 [Wife comes on the Stage. 
 Wife. By your leave, gentlemen all ; I'm something 
 
induction. ^ The Knight of the 
 
 troublesome : I'm a stranger here ; I was 
 ne'er at one of these plays, as they say, before ; 
 but I should have seen " Jane Shore " once ; 60 
 and my husband hath promised me, any time 
 this twelvemonth, to carry me to " The Bold 
 Beauchamps," but in truth he did not. I 
 pray you, bear with me. 
 
 Cit. Boy, let my wife and I have a couple of stools 
 and then begin ; and let the grocer do rare 
 things. [Stools are brought. 
 
 S. of Pro/. But, sir, we have never a boy to play 
 him : every one hath a part already. 
 
 Wife. Husband, husband, for God's sake, let Ralph 70 
 play him ! beshrew me, if I do not think he 
 will go beyond them all. 
 
 Cit. Well remembered, wife. Come up, Ralph. 
 I'll tell you, gentlemen ; let them but lend 
 him a suit of reparel and necessaries, and, by 
 gad, if any of them all blow wind in the tail 
 on him, I'll be hanged. [Ralph comes on the Stage. 
 
 Wife. I pray you, youth, let him have a suit of 
 
 1 reparel! I'll be sworn, gentlemen, my 
 
 husband tells you true : he will act you some- 80 
 
 times at our house, that all the neighbours cry 
 
 out on him ; he will fetch you up a couraging 
 
Burning Pestle 5^ induction. 
 
 part so in the garret, that we are all as feared, 
 I warrant you, that we quake again : we'll 
 fear our children with him ; if they be never 
 so unruly, do but cry, " Ralph comes, Ralph 
 comes ^ " to them, and they'll be as quiet as 
 lambs.4 Hold up thy head, Ralph ; show the 
 gentlemen what thou canst do ; speak a huffing 
 part ; I warrant you, the gentlemen will accept 90 
 of it. 
 
 Cit. Do, Ralph, do. 
 
 Ralph. " By Heaven, methinks, it were an easy leap 
 To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon ; 
 Or dive into the bottom of the sea, 
 Where never fathom-line touched any ground, 
 And pluck up drowned honour from the lake ot 
 hell." 
 
 Cit. How say you, gentlemen, is it not as I told 
 you ? 
 
 Wife. Nay, gentlemen, he hath played before, my 100 
 husband says, Mucedorus, before the wardens 
 of our company. 
 
 Cit. Ay, and he should have played Jeronimo with 
 a shoemaker for a wager. 
 
 S. of Pro/. He shall have a suit of apparel, if he 
 will go in. 
 
 13 
 
induction. ^ The Knight of the 
 
 Cit. In, Ralph, in, Ralph ; and set out the grocery 
 
 in their kind, if thou lovest me. [Exit Ralph. 
 
 Wife. I warrant, our Ralph will look finely when 
 
 he' 8 dressed. 1 10 
 
 S. of ProL But what will you have it called ? 
 
 Cit. " The Grocer's Honour." 
 
 S. of ProL Methinks " The Knight of the Burning 
 Pesde " were better. 
 
 Wife. I'll be sworn, husband, that's as good a 
 name as can be. 
 
 Cit. Let it be so. Begin, begin ; my wife and I 
 will sit down. 
 
 S. of ProL I pray you, do. 
 
 Cit. What stately music have you? you have 120 
 shawms ? 
 
 S. of ProL Shawms ! no. 
 
 Cit. No ! I'm a thief, if my mind did not give me 
 so. Ralph plays a stately part, and he must 
 needs have shawms : I'll be at the charge of 
 them myself, rather than we'll be without 
 them. 
 
 S. of ProL So you are like to be. 
 
 Cit. Why, and so I will be : there's two shillings ; 
 
 [Gives money.'] let's have the waits of 130 
 Southwark ; they are as rare fellows as any are 
 M 
 
Burning Pestle 3* induction. 
 
 in England ; and that will fetch them all o'er 
 the water with a vengeance, as if they were 
 mad. 
 S. of ProL You shall have them. Will you sit 
 
 down, then ? 
 Cit. Ay. Come, wife. 
 
 Wife. Sit you merry all, gentlemen ; I'm bold to 
 sit amongst you for my ease. 
 
 [_Citizen and Wife sit down. 
 S. of ProL " From all that's near the court, from all 
 that's great, 140 
 
 ithin the compass of the city-walls, 
 e now have brought our scene. Fly far from 
 hence *> 
 
 All private taxes, immodest phrases, 
 Whatever may but show like vicious ! 
 For wicked mirth never true pleasure brings, 
 But honest minds are pleased with honest things." 
 Thus much for that we do ; but for Ralph's 
 part you must answer for yourself. 
 Cit* Take you no care for Ralph ; he'll discharge 
 
 himself, I warrant you. [Exit Speaker of Prologue. 
 Wife. I'faith, gentlemen, I'll give my word for 151 
 Ralph. 
 
 xvaipn. 
 
Act I. Sc. i. ^The Knight of the 
 
 Act First. 
 Scene I. 
 
 A Room in the House of VenturewelL 
 Enter Venturewell and Jasper. 
 
 Vent, Sirrah, I'll make you know you are my prentice, 
 And whom my charitable love redeemed 
 Even from the fall of fortune ; gave thee heat 
 And growth, to be what now thou art, new-cast 
 
 thee ; 
 Adding the trust of all I have, at home, 
 In foreign staples, or upon the sea, 
 To thy direction ; tied the good opinions 
 Both of myself and friends to thy endeavours ; 
 So fair were thy beginnings. But with these, 
 As I remember, you had never charge 10 
 
 To love your master's daughter, and even then 
 When I had found a wealthy husband for her ; 
 I take it, sir, you had not : but, however, 
 I'll break the neck of that commission, 
 And make you know you are but a merchant's factor. 
 
 Jasp. Sir, I do liberally confess I am yours, 
 
 Bound both by love and duty to your service, 
 
 16 
 
Burning Pestle s^ Acti. Sc i. 
 
 In which my labour hath been all my profit : 
 
 I have not lost in bargain, nor delighted 
 
 To wear your honest gains upon my back ; 20 
 
 Nor have I given a pension to my blood, 
 
 Or lavishly in play consumed your stock ; 
 
 These, and the miseries that do attend them, 
 
 I dare with innocence proclaim are strangers 
 
 To all my temperate actions. For your daughter, 
 
 If there be any love to my deservings 
 
 Borne by her virtuous self, I cannot stop it ; 
 
 Nor am I able to refrain her wishes, 
 
 She's private to herself, and best of knowledge 
 
 Whom she will make so happy as to sigh for : 30 
 
 Besides, I cannot think you mean to match her 
 
 Unto a fellow of so lame a presence, 
 
 One that hath little left of nature in him. 
 
 Vent. 'Tis very well, sir : I can tell your wisdom 
 How all this shall be cured. 
 
 Jasp. Your care becomes you. 
 
 Vent. And thus it shall be, sir : I here discharge you 
 My house and service; take you! >> ii b eiFfe y-$ 
 And when I want a son, I'll send for you. \_Exit. 
 
 Jasp. These be the fair rewards of them that love ! 
 
 Oh, you that live in freedom, never prove ) > 40 
 \ The travail of a mind led by desire X '^^*s 
 b *7 
 
Act I. Sc. i. JsThe Knight of the 
 
 Enter Luce. J * 
 
 Luce. Why, how now, friend ? struck with my father's 
 
 thunder ! . 
 J asp. Struck, ancL struck dead, unless the remedy 
 
 Be full of speed and virtue ; I am now, 
 
 What I* expected long, no more your father's. 
 Luce. But mine. 
 Jasp. But yours, and Only yours, I am ; 
 
 That's all I have to keep me from the statute. 
 
 You dare be constant still ? 
 Luce. Oh, fear me not ! 
 
 In this I dare be better than a woman : 
 
 Nor shall his anger nor'tes afFers move me, 50 
 
 Were. they both equal to a prince's power. 
 J asp. YriuJtnOw my rival! 
 Luce. Yes, and love him dearly ; 
 
 Even as I love an ague or foul weather : 
 
 I prithee, Jasper, fear him not. 
 J asp. Oh, no ! 
 
 I do not mean to do him so much kindness. 
 
 But to our own desires : you know the plot 
 
 We both agreed on ? 
 Luce. Yes, and will perform 
 
 My part exactly. 
 
Burning Pestles^ Act I. Sc. i. 
 
 Jasp. I desire no more. 
 
 Farewell, and keep my heart ; 'tis yours. 
 
 Luce. I take it ; 
 
 He must do miracles makes me forsake it. 60 
 
 [_Exeunt severally. 
 
 [Cit. Fie upon 'em, little infidels ! what a matter's 
 here now ! Well, I'll be hanged for a half- 
 penny, if there be not some abomination 
 knavery in this play. Well ; let 'em look 
 to't; Ralph must come, and if there be any 
 tricks a-brewing 
 
 Wife. Let 'em brew and bake too, husband, a' 
 God's name ; Ralph will find all out, I 
 warrant you, an they were older than they 
 are. \_Enter Boy.'] I pray, my pretty 70 
 youth, is Ralph ready ? 
 
 Boy. He will be presently. 
 
 Wife. Now, I pray you, make my commendations 
 unto him, and withal carry him this stick of 
 liquorice : tell him his mistress sent it to him ; 
 and bid him bite a piece ; 'twill open his pipes 
 the better, say.] [_Exit Boy. 
 
Act I. Sc. ii. =s The Knight of the 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 Another Room in the House of Venturewell. 
 
 Enter Venturewell and Humphrey* 
 
 Vent. Come, sir, she's yours ; upon my faith, she's 
 yours; 
 You have my hand : for other idle lets 
 Between your hopes and her, thus with a wind 
 They are scattered and no more. My wanton 
 
 prentice, 
 That like a bladder blew himself with love, 
 I have let out, and sent him to discover 
 New masters yet unknown. 
 
 Hum. I thank you, sir, 
 
 Indeed, I thank you, sir ; and, ere I stir, 
 It shall be known, however you do deem, 
 I am of gentle blood, and gentle seem. 10 
 
 Vent. Oh, sir, I know it certain. 
 
 Hum. Sir, my friend, 
 
 Although, as writers say, all things have end, 
 And that we call a pudding hath his two, 
 Oh, let it not seem strange, I pray, to you, 
 If in this bloody simile I put 
 My love, more endless than frail things or gut ! 
 
Burning Pestle && Act I. Sc. ii. 
 
 \Wife. Husband, I prithee, sweet lamb, tell me one 
 thing ; but tell me truly. Stay, youths, I 
 beseech you, till I question my husband. 
 
 Cit. What is it, mouse ?) 20 
 
 Wife. Sirrah, didst thou ever see a prettier child ? 
 how it behaves itself, I warrant ye, and speaks 
 and looks, and perts up the head ! I pray you, 
 brother, with your favour, were you never none 
 of Master Moncaster's scholars ? 
 
 Cit. Chicken, I prithee heartily, contain thyself : the 
 childer are pretty childer ; but when Ralph 
 comes, lamb 
 
 Wife. Ay, when Ralph comes, cony ! Well, my 
 
 youth, you may proceed.] 30 
 
 Vent. Well, sir, you know my love, and rest, I hope, 
 Assured of my consent ; get but my daughter's, 
 And wed her when you please. You must be 
 
 bold, """^ 
 
 And clap in close unto her : come, I know 
 You have language good enough to win a wench. 
 
 \JVife. A whoreson tyrant ! h'as been an old stringer 
 in's days, I warrant him.] 
 
 Hum. I take your gentle offer, and withal 
 Yield love again for love reciprocal. 
 
 Vent. What, Luce ! within there ! 40 
 
Act I. Sc. n. The Knight of the 
 
 Enter Luce. 
 
 Luce. Called you, sir ? 
 
 Vent. I did: 
 
 Give entertainment to this gentleman ; 
 
 And see you be not fro ward. To her, sir : 
 
 My presence will but be an eye-sore to you. [Exit. 
 
 Hum. Fair Mistress Luce, how do you ? are you well ? 
 Give me your hand, and then I pray you tell 
 How doth your little sister and your brother ; 
 And whether you love me or any other. 
 
 Luce. Sir, these are quickly answered. 
 
 Hum. So they are, 
 
 Where women are not cruel. But how far 
 
 Is it now distant from the place we are in, 50 
 
 Unto that blessed place, your father's warren ? 
 
 Luce. What makes you think of that, sir ? 
 
 Hum. Even that face ; 
 
 For, stealing rabbits whilom in that place, 
 God Cupid, or the keeper, I know not whether, 
 Unto my cost and charges brought you thither, 
 And there began 
 
 Luce. Your game, sir. 
 
 Hum. Let no game, 
 
 Or any thing that tendeth to the same, 
 
Burning Pestle 5^ Act I. Sc. ii. 
 
 Be ever more remembered, thou fair killer, 
 For whom I sate me down, and brake my tiller. 
 
 [Wife. There's a kind gentleman, I warrant you : 60 
 when will you do as much for me, George ?]] 
 
 Luce. Beshrew me, sir, I am sorry for your losses, 
 But, as the proverb says, I cannot cry : 
 I would you had not seen me ! 
 
 Hum. So would I, 
 
 Unless you had more maw to do me good. 
 
 Luce. Why, cannot this strange passion be withstood ; 
 Send for a constable, and raise the town. 
 
 Hum. Oh, no ! my valiant love will batter down 
 Millions of constables, and put to flight 
 Even that great watch of Midsummer- day at night. 
 
 Luce. Beshrew me, sir, 'twere good I yielded, then ; 7 1 
 Weak women cannot hope, where valiant men 
 Have no resistance. 
 
 Hum. Yield, then ; I am full 
 
 Of pity, though I say it, and can pull 
 Out of my pocket thus a pair of gloves. ^ 
 
 Look, Luce, look ; the dog's tooth nor the dove's 
 Are not so white as these ; and sweet they be, 
 And whipt about with silk, as you may see. 
 If you desire the price, shoot from your eye 
 A beam to this place, and you shall espy 80 
 
 23 
 
 V^ 
 
Act I. Sc. ii. ^The Knight of the 
 
 F S 9 which is to say, my sweetest honey, 
 They cost me three and twopence, or no money. 
 
 Luce. Well, sir, I take them kindly, and I thank 
 you : 
 What would you more ? 
 
 Hum. Nothing. 
 
 Luce. Why, then, farewell. 
 
 Hum. Nor so, nor so ; for, lady, I must tell, 
 Before we part, for what we met together : 
 God grant me time and patience and fair weather ! 
 
 Luce. Speak, and declare your mind in terms so 
 brief. 
 
 Hum. I shall : then, first and foremost, for relief 
 
 I call to you, if that you can afford it ; 90 
 
 I care not at what price, for, on my word, it 
 Shall be repaid again, although it cost me 
 More than I'll speak of now ; for love hath tost 
 
 me 
 In furious blanket like a tennis-ball, 
 And now I rise aloft, and now I fall. 
 
 Luce. Alas, good gentleman, alas the day ! 
 
 Hum. I thank you heartily ; and, as I say, 
 Thus do I still continue without rest, 
 I' the morning like a man, at night a beast, 
 Roaring and bellowing mine own disquiet, 100 
 
 24 
 
Burning Pestles Acti. Sc. ii. 
 
 That much I fear, forsaking of my diet 
 Will bring me presently to that quandary, 
 I shall bid all adieu. 
 
 Luce. Now, by St Mary, 
 
 That were great pity ! , . 
 
 Hum. So it were, beshrew me ; 
 
 Then, ease me, lusty Luce, and pity show me. 
 
 Luce. Why, sir, you know my will is nothing worth 
 Without my father's grant ; get his consent, 
 And then you may with assurance try me. 
 
 Hum. The worshipful your sire will not deny me ; 
 
 For I have asked him, and he hath replied, no 
 " Sweet Master Humphrey, Luce shall be thy 
 bride." 
 
 Luce. Sweet Master Humphrey, then I am content. 
 
 Hum. And so am I, in truth. 
 
 Luce. Yet take me with you ; 
 
 Tnere is another clause must be annexed, 
 . And this it is : I swore, and will perform it, 
 5Jo man shall ever joy me as his wife 
 But he that stole me hence. If you dare venture, 
 I am yours (you need not fear ; my father loves 
 
 you); 
 If not, farewell for ever ! 
 
 Hum. Stay, nymph, stay : 
 
Act I. Sc. ii. ^ The Knight of the 
 
 I have a double gelding, coloured bay, 1 20 
 
 Sprung by his father from Barbarian kind ; 
 Another for myself, though somewhat blind, 
 Yet true as trusty tree. 
 
 Luce. T am satisfied ; 
 
 And so I give my hand. Our course must lie 
 Through Waltham-forest, where I have a friend 
 Will entertain us. So, farewell, Sir Humphrey, 
 And think upon your business. [Exit. 
 
 Hum. Though I die, 
 
 I am resolved to venture life and limb 
 
 For one so young, so fair, so kind, so trim. [Exit. 
 
 [Wife. By my faith and troth, George, and as I am 130 
 virtuous, it is e'en the kindest young man that 
 ever trod on shoe-leather. Well, go thy ways ; 
 if thou hast her not, 'tis not thy fault, i'faith. 
 
 Cit. I prithee, mouse, be patient ; 'a shall have her, 
 or I'll make some of 'em smoke for't. 
 
 Wife. That's my good lamb, George. Fie, this 
 stinking tobacco kills me ! would there were 
 none in England! Now, I pray, gentlemen, 
 what good does this stinking tobacco do you ? 
 nothing, I warrant you: make chimneys o' 140 
 your faces ! ~\ 
 
Burning Pestle && Act I. Sc. m. 
 
 Scene III. 
 A Grocer's Shop. 
 
 Enter Ralph, as a Grocer, reading Palmerin of England, 
 with Tim and George. 
 
 {Wife. Oh, husband, husband, now, now ! there's 
 Ralph, there's Ralph. 
 
 Cit. Peace, fool ! let Ralph alone. Hark you, 
 Ralph ; do not strain yourself too much at 
 the first. Peace! Begin, Ralph.] 
 
 Ralph. \_Reads.~\ Then Palmerin and Trineus, 
 snatching their lances from their dwarfs, and 
 clasping their helmets galloped amain after the 
 giant ; and Palmerin, having gotten a sight of 
 him, came posting amain, saying, ' Stay, traitor- i o 
 ous thief! for thou mayst not so carry away 
 her, that is worth the greatest lord in the 
 world ; * and, with these words, gave him a 
 blow on the shoulder, that he struck him be- 
 sides his elephant. And Trineus, coming to 
 the knight that had Agricola behind him, set 
 him soon besides his horse, with his neck 
 broken in the fall; so that the princess, 
 
 getting out of the throng, between Jdy~and 
 27 
 
Act I. Sc. iii. csThe Knight of the 
 
 grief, said, " All happy knight, the mirror of 20 
 all such as follow arms, now may I be well 
 assured of the love thou bearest me." I 
 wonder why the kings do not raise an army 
 of fourteen or fifteen hundred thousand men, 
 as big as the army that the Prince of Portigo 
 brought against Rosicleer, and destroy these 
 giants ; they do much hurt to wandering 
 damsels, that go in quest of their knights. 
 
 \_Wife. Faith, husband, and Ralph says true; for 
 
 they say the King of Portugal cannot sit at 30 
 his meat, but the giants and the ettins will 
 come and snatch it from him. 
 
 Cit. Hold thy tongue. On, Ralph!] 
 
 Ralph. And certainly those knights are much to be 
 
 ; commended, who, neglecting their possessions, j njA 
 I wander with a squire and a dwarf through the 
 j deserts to relieve poor ladies. 
 
 \JVife. Ay, by my faith, are they, Ralph ; let 'em 
 say what they will, they are indeed. Our 
 knights neglect their possessions well enough, 40 
 but they do not the rest.] 
 
 Ralph. There are no such courteous and fair well- 
 spoken knights in this age : they will call one 
 
 " the son of a whore," that Palmerin of 
 28 
 
Burning Pestle 5^ Act i. Sc. Hi. 
 
 England would have called "fair sir ; " and 
 one that Rosicleer would have called " right 
 beauteous damsel,'' they will call "damned 
 bitch." 
 
 {Wife. I'll be sworn will they, Ralph ; they have 
 
 called me so an hundred times about a scurvy 50 
 pipe of tobacco.] 
 
 Ralph. But what brave spirit could be content to sit 
 in his shop, with a flappet of wood, and a blue 
 apron before him, selling mithridatum and 
 dragon's- water to visited houses, that might 
 pursue feats of arms, and, through his noble 
 achievements, procure such a famous history 
 to be written of his heroic prowess ? 
 
 \Cit. Well said, Ralph ; some more of those words, 
 
 Ralph ! 60 
 
 Wife. They go finely, by my troth.] 
 
 Ralph. Why should not I, then, pursue this course, 
 both for the credit of myself and our company ? 
 for amongst all the worthy books of achieve- 
 ments, I do not call to mind that I yet read 
 of a grocer-errant: I will be the said knight. 
 Have you heard of any that hath wandered 
 unfurnished of his squire and dwarf? My elder 
 prentice Tim shall be my trusty squire, and little 
 
Act I. Sc. hi. =s The Knight of the 
 
 George my dwarf. Hence, my blue apron ! 70 
 Yet, in remembrance of my former trade, upon 
 /my shield shall be portrayed a Burning Pestle, 
 \y and I will be called the Knight of the Burning 
 Pestle. 
 
 [_lVife. Nay, I dare swear thou wilt not forget thy 
 old trade ; thou wert ever mek.] |C*a*A 
 
 Ralph. Tim! 
 
 Tim. Anon. 
 
 Ralph. My beloved squire, and George my dwarf, 
 
 I charge you that from henceforth you never 80 
 call me by any other name but "the right 
 courteous and valiant Knight of the Burning 
 Pestle ; " and that you never call any female 
 by the name of a woman or wench, but 
 "fair lady," if she have her desires, if not, 
 " distressed damsel ; " that you call all 
 forests and heaths " deserts," and all horses 
 " palfreys." 
 
 \Wije. This is very fine, faith. Do the gentlemen 
 
 like Ralph, think you, husband ? 90 
 
 Cit. Ay, I warrant thee ; the players would give all 
 the shoes in their shop for him.] 
 
 Ralph. My beloved squire Tim, stand out. Admit 
 
 this were a desert, and over it a knight-errant 
 30 
 
Burning Pestle && Act I. Sc. iii. 
 
 pricking, and I should bid you inquire of his 
 intents, what would you say ? 
 
 Tim. Sir, my master sent me to know whither you 
 are riding ? 
 
 Ralph. No, thus : " Fair sir, the right courteous 
 
 and valiant Knight of the Burning Pestle loo 
 commanded me to inquire upon what adven- 
 ture you are bound, whether to relieve some dis- 
 tressed damsel, or otherwise." 
 
 [_Cit. Whoreson blockhead, cannot remember ! 
 
 Wife. Ffaith, and Ralph told him on't before : all 
 the gentlemen heard him. Did he not, gentle- 
 men ? did not Ralph tell him on't ?] 
 
 George. Right courteous and valiant Knight of the 
 Burning Pestle, here is a distressed damsel to 
 have a halfpenny- worth of pepper. no 
 
 \_Wife. That's a good boy! see, the little boy can 
 hit it ; by my troth, it's a fine child.] 
 
 Ralph. Relieve her, with all courteous language. 
 Now shut up shop ; no more my prentices, but 
 my trusty squire and dwarf. I must bespeak 
 my shield and arming pestle. 
 
 \Exeunt Tim and George. 
 
 \_Git. Go thy ways, Ralph I As I'm a true man, 
 thou art the best on 'em all. 
 31 
 
Act I. Sc. iv. ^The Knight of the 
 
 Wife. Ralph, Ralph ! 
 
 Ralph. What say you, mistress ? 1 20 
 
 Wife. I prithee, come again quickly, sweet Ralph. 
 Ralph. By and by.] [Exit. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 A Room in Merrythought' s House. 
 
 Enter Mistress Merrythought and Jasper. 
 
 Mist. Mer. Give thee my blessing ! no, Pll ne'er 
 give tfiee my blessing ; I'll see thee hanged 
 first; it shall ne'er be said I gave thee my 
 blessing. Thou art thy father's own son, of 
 the right blood of the Merrythoughts. Ijnay 
 curse the time that e'er I knew thy father ; he 
 hath spent all his own and mine too ; and when 
 I tell him of it, he laughs, and dances, and 
 sings, and cries, "A merry heart lives long-a." 
 And thou art a wastethrift, and art run away 10 
 from thy master that loved thee well, and art 
 come to me ; and I have laid up a little for 
 my younger son Michael, and thou thinkest to 
 bezzle that, but thou shalt never be able to do 
 
 it Come hither, Michael ! 
 
 32 
 
Burning Pestle s^ Acti. Sc. iv. 
 
 Enter Michael. 
 
 Come, Michael, down on thy knees ; thou shalt 
 
 have my blessing. 
 Mich^ [Kneels. ~\ I pray you, mother, pray to God 
 
 to bless me. 
 Mist. Mer. God bless thee ! but Jasper shall never 20 
 
 have my blessing ; he shall be hanged first : 
 
 shall he not, Michael ? how sayest thou ? 
 Mich. Yes, forsooth, mother, and grace of God. 
 Mist. Mer. That's a good boy ! 
 \_Wife. Pfaith, it's a fine-spoken child.] 
 Jasp. Mother, though you forget a parent's love 
 
 I must preserve the duty of a child, 
 
 I ran not from my master, nor return 
 
 To have your stock maintain my idleness. 
 \Wife. Un graciou s child, I warrant him ; hark, 30 
 
 how he chops logic with his mother! Thou 
 
 hadst best tell her the lies; do, tell her she 
 
 lies. 
 Git. If he were my son, I would hang him up by 
 
 the heels, and flay him, and salt him, whoreson 
 
 haltersack.] 
 Jasp. My coming only is to beg your love, 
 
 Which I must ever, though I never gain it ; 
 
 And, howsoever you esteem of me, 
 
 C 33 
 
Act I. Sc. iv. ^ The Knight of the 
 
 There is no drop of blood hid in these veins 40 
 
 But, I remember well, belongs to you 
 
 That brought me forth, and would be glad for you 
 
 To rip them all again, and let it out. 
 Mist. Mer. Pfaith, I had sorrow enough for thee, 
 
 God knows ; but I'll hamper thee well enough. 
 
 Get thee in, thou vagabond, get thee in, and 
 
 learn of thy brother Michael. 
 
 [Exeunt Jasper and Michael. 
 Mer. [Singing within.'] 
 
 Nose, nose, jolly red nose, 
 
 And who gave thee this jolly red nose ? 
 
 Mist. Mer. Hark, my husband! he's singing and 50 
 hoiting; and I'm fain to cark and care, and 
 all little enough. Husband ! Charles ! Charles 
 Merrythought ! 
 
 Enter Merrythought. 
 Mer. [Sings."] 
 
 Nutmegs and ginger, cinnamon and cloves ; 
 And they gave me this jolly red nose. 
 
 Mist. Mer. If you would consider your state, you 
 
 would have little list to sing, i-wis. 
 Mer. It should never be considered, while it were 
 
 an estate, if I thought it would spoil my singing. 
 34 
 
Burning Pestles^ Acti. Sc. iv. 
 
 Mist. Mer. But how wilt thou do, Charles ? thou 60 
 art an old man, and thou canst not work, and 
 thou hast not forty shillings left, and thou 
 eatest good meat, and drinkest good drink, and 
 laughest. 
 
 Mer. And will do. 
 
 Mist. Mer. But how wilt thou come by it, Charles ? 
 
 Mer. How ! why, how have I done hitherto these 
 forty years? I never came into my dining 
 room, but, at eleven and six o'clock, I found 
 excellent meat and drink o' the table ; my 70 
 clothes were never worn out, but next morning 
 a tailor brought me a new suit : and without 
 question it will be so ever ; use makes perfgct- 
 njess. If all should fail, it is but a littliTstrain- 
 ing myself extraordinary, and laugh myself to 
 death. 
 
 \_Wife. It's a foolish old man this ; is not he, 
 George ? 
 
 Cit. Yes, cony. 
 
 Wife. Give me a penny i' the purse while I live, 80 
 George. 
 
 Cit. Ay, by lady, cony, hold thee there.] 
 
 Mist. Mer. Well, Charles ; you promised to pro- 
 vide for Jasper, and I have laid up for Michael. 
 35 
 
Act I. Sc. iv. ^ The Knight of the 
 
 I pray you, pay Jasper his portion: he's come 
 home, and he shall not consume Michael's 
 stock ; he says his master turned him away, 
 but, I promise you truly, I think he ran 
 away. 
 
 \Wife. No, indeed, Mistress Merrythought ; though 90 
 he be a notable gallows, yet I'll assure you his 
 master did turn him away, even in this place ; 
 'twas, i'faith, within this half-hour, about his 
 daughter ; my husband was by. 
 
 Cit. Hang him, rogue ! he served him well enough : 
 love his master's daughter ! By my troth, 
 cony, if there were a thousand boys, thou 
 wouldst spoil them all with taking their parts ; 
 let his mother alone with him. 
 
 Wife. Ay, George ; but yet truth is truth.] 100 
 
 Mer. Where is Jasper ? he's welcome, however. 
 Call him in ; he shall have his portion. Is he 
 merry ? 
 
 Mist. Mer. Ah, foul chive him, he is too merry ! 
 Jasper ! Michael ! 
 
 Re-enter Jasper and Michael. 
 
 Mer. Welcome, Jasper ! though thou runnest away, 
 welcome ! God bless thee ! 'Tis thy mother's 
 06 
 
Burning Pestle 5^ Act I. Sc iv. 
 
 mind thou shouldst receive thy portion ;) thou 
 hast been abroad, and I hope hast learned ex- 
 perience enough to govern it 5) thou art of 100 
 sufficient years ; hold thy hand one, two, 
 three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, there 
 is ten shillings for thee. [Gives money.'} 
 TTnWlripeTr^^ with that, and 
 
 take some settled course : if fortune cross thee, 
 thou hast a retiring place ; come home to me ; 
 I have twenty shillings left. Be a good 
 husband; that is, wear ordinary clothes, eat 
 the best meat, and drink the best drink ; be 
 merry, and give to the poor, and, believe me, 120 
 thou hast no end of thy goods. 
 
 J asp. Long may you live free from all thought of ill, 
 And long have cause to be thus merry still ! 
 But, father 
 
 Mer. No more words, Jasper ; get thee gone. 
 
 Thou hast my blessing ; thy father's spirit upon 
 
 thee ! Farewell, Jasper ! [Sings. 
 
 But yet, or ere you part (oh, cruel ! ) 
 
 Kiss me, kiss me, sweeting, mine own dear jewel ! 
 
 So, now begone ; no words. [Exit Jasper. 1 30 
 
 Mist. Mer. So, Michael, now get thee gone too. M 
 
 37 
 
Act I. Sc. iv. 2sThe Knight of the 
 
 Mich. Yes, forsooth, mother; but Pll have my 
 
 father's blessing first. 
 Mist. Mer. No, Michael ; 'tis no matter for his 
 
 blessing ; thou hast my blessing ; begone. I'll 
 
 fetch my money and jewels, and follow thee ; 
 
 I'll stay no longer with him, I warrant thee. 
 
 [Exit Michael.] Truly, Charles, I'll be 
 
 gone too. 
 Mer. What ! you will not ? 1 40 
 
 Mist. Mer. Yes, indeed will I. 
 Mer. [Sings.] 
 
 Heigh-ho, farewell, Nan ! 
 I'll never trust wench more again, if I can. 
 
 Mist. Ala: You shall not think, when all your own 
 
 is gone, to spend that I have been scraping up 
 
 for Michael. 
 Mer. Farewell, good wife ; I expect it not :, all I 
 
 have to do in this world^ is to be merry ; 
 
 which I shall, if the ground be not taken from 
 
 me; and. if it be, [Sings. 150 
 
 4 
 
 When earth and seas from me are reft, 
 The skies aloft for me are left. 
 
 [Exeunt severally. 
 [Wife. I'll be sworn he's a merry old gentleman 
 
 38 
 
Burning Pestles Act I. Sc. iv. 
 
 for all that. \_Music.~\ Hark, hark, husband, 
 hark ! fiddles, fiddles ! now surely they go 
 finely. They say 'tis present death for these 
 fiddlers, to tune their rebecks before the great 
 Turk's grace ; it's not, George^ {Enter a 
 Boy and dances J\ But, look, look ! here's a 
 youth dances ! Now, good youth, do a turn 160 
 o' the toe. Sweetheart, i'faith, I'll have Ralph 
 come and do some of his gambols. He'll ride 
 the wild mare, gentlemen, 'twould do your hearts 
 good to see him. I thank you, kind youth; 
 pray, bid Ralph come. 
 Cit. Peace, cony ! Sirrah, you scurvy boy, bid the 
 
 players send Ralph ; or, by God's an they 
 
 do not, I'll tear some of their periwigs beside 
 their heads : this is all riff-raff.] {Exit Boy. 
 
 *^*x$8><^ 
 
 39 
 
Act II. Sc. i. ^ The Knight of the 
 
 Act Second. 
 Scene I.**~* 
 A Room in the House of VentureivelL 
 Enter Venturewell and Humphrey. 
 
 Vent. And how, faith, how goes it now, son 
 Humphrey ? 
 
 Hum. Right worshipful, and my beloved friend 
 And father dear, this matter's at an end. 
 
 Vent. 'Tis well : it should be so : I'm glad the girl 
 Is found so tractable. 
 
 Hum. Nay, she must whirl 
 
 From hence (and you must wink ; for so, I say, 
 The story tells,) to-morrow before day. 
 
 \Wtfe. George, dost thou think in thy conscience 
 now 'twill be a match ? tell me but what thou 
 thinkest, sweet rogue. Thou seest the poor 10 
 gentleman, dear heart, how it labours and throbs, 
 I warrant you, to be at rest ! I'll go move the 
 father for't. 
 
 Cit. No, no ; I prithee, sit still, honeysuckle ; thou'lt 
 spoil all. If he deny him, I'll bring half-a- 
 dozen good fellows myself, and in the shutting 
 40 
 
Burning Pestles Actli. Sc. i. 
 
 of an evening, knock't up, and there's an 
 end. 
 
 Wife. I'll buss thee for that, i'faith, boy. Well, 
 
 George, well, you have been a wag in your 20 
 days, I warrant you; but God forgive you, 
 and I do with all my heart.] 
 
 Vent. How was it, son ? you told me that to-morrow 
 Before day-break, you must convey her hence. 
 
 Hum. I must, I must ; and thus it is agreed : 
 
 Your daughter rides upon a brown-bay steed, 
 
 I on a sorrel, which I bought of Brian, 
 
 The honest host of the Red roaring Lion, 
 
 In Waltham situate. Then, if you may, 
 
 Consent in seemly sort ; lest, by delay, 30 
 
 The Fatal Sisters come, and do the office, 
 
 And then you'll sing another song. 
 
 VenU Alas, 
 
 Why should you be thus full of grief to me, 
 
 That do as willing as yourself agree 
 
 To any thing, so it be good and fair ? 
 
 Then, steal her when you will, if such a pleasure 
 
 Content you both ; I'll sleep and never see it, 
 
 To make your joys more full. But tell me why 
 
 You may not here perform your marriage \ 
 
 [Wife. God's blessing 0' thy soul, old man! i'faith, 40 
 
Act II. Sc i. ssThe Knight of the 
 
 thou art loath to part true hearts. I see 'a has 
 her, George ; and I'm as glad on't ! Well, go 
 thy ways, Humphrey, for a fair-spoken man ; 
 I believe thou hast not thy fellow within the 
 walls of London ; an I should say the suburbs 
 too, I should not lie. Why dost not rejoice 
 with me, George F7 
 
 Cit. If I could but see Ralph again, I were as merry 
 as mine host, i'faith.J 
 
 Hum, The cause you seem to ask, I thus declare 50 
 Help me, O Muses nine ! Your daughter sware 
 A foolish oath, and more it was the pity ; 
 Yet no one but myself within this city 
 Shall dare to say so, but a bold defiance 
 Shall meet him, were he of the noble science ; 
 And yet she sware, and yet why did she sware ? 
 Truly, I cannot tell, unless it were 
 For her own ease ; for, sure, sometimes an oath, 
 Being sworn thereafter, is like cordial broth ; 
 f^* And this it was she swore, never to marry 60 
 
 But such a one whose mighty arm could carry 
 
 j (As meaning me, for I am such a one) 
 Her bodily away, through stick and stone, 
 Till both of us arrive, at her request, 
 I Some ten miles off, in the wild Waltham-forest. 
 42 
 
Burning Pestles Actn. Sc. ii. 
 
 Vent. If this be all, you shall not need to fear 
 
 Any denial in your love : proceed ; 
 
 Pll neither follow, nor repent the deed. 68 
 
 Hum. Good night, twenty^gooa mghls, affiFtwenty more, 
 
 And twenty more good nights, that makes three- 
 score ! [Exeunt severally. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 Waltham Forest. 
 
 Enter Mistress Merrythought and Michael. 
 
 Mist. Mer. Come, Michael ; art thou not weary, 
 boy ? 
 
 Mich. No, forsooth, mother, not I. 
 
 Mist. Mer. Where be we now, child ? 
 
 Mich. Indeed, forsooth, mother, I cannot tell, unless 
 we be at Mile- End : Isjio4^aU-tfee-wor4d Mile- 
 End, mother f~ 
 
 Mist. Mer. No, Michael, not all the world, boy; 
 but I can assure thee, Michael, Mile- End is a 
 goodly matter : there has been a pitchfield, my 10 
 child, between the naughty Spaniels and the 
 Englishmen ; and the Spaniels ran away, 
 Michael, and the Englishmen followed : my 
 
Act ii. Sc.ii. =ss The* Knight of the 
 
 neighbour Coxstone was there, boy, and killed 
 them all with a birding-piece. 
 
 Mich. Mother, forsooth 
 
 Mist. Mer. What says my white boy ? 
 
 Mich. Shall not my father go with us too ? 
 
 Mist. Mer. No, Michael, let thy father go snick- 
 up ; he shall never come between a pair of 20 
 sheets with me again while he lives ; let him 
 stay at home, and sing for his supper, boy. 
 Come, child, sit down, and I'll show my boy 
 fine knacks, indeed. [They sit down : and 
 she takes out a casket. ] Look here, Michael ; 
 here's a ring, and here's a brooch, and here's 
 a bracelet, and here's two rings more, and here's 
 money and gold by th'eye, my boy. 
 
 Mich. Shall I have all this, mother ? 
 
 Mist. Mer. Ay, Michael, thou shalt have all, Michael. 30 
 
 \_Cit. How likest thou this, wench ? s^ 
 
 Wife. I cannot tell ; I would have Ralph, George ; 
 I'll see no more else, indeed, la ; and I pray 
 you, let the youths understand so much by 
 word of mouth ; for, I tell you truly, I'm 
 afraid o' my boy. Come, come, George, let's 
 be merry and wise : the child's a fatherless 
 child ; and say they should put him into a 
 44 
 
Burning Pestles Actn. Sc. ii. 
 
 strait pair of gaskins, 'twere worse than knot- 
 grass ; he would never grow after it.] 40 
 
 Enter Ralph, Tim and George, 
 
 {Cit. Here's Ralph, here's Ralph ! 
 
 Wife. How do you do, Ralph? you are welcome, 
 
 Ralph, as I may say ; it's a good boy,/ hold up 
 
 thy head, and be not afraid ; we are thy friends, 
 
 Ralph ; the gentlemen will praise thee, Ralph, 
 
 if thou playest thy part with audacity. Begin, 
 
 Ralph, a' God's name V\ 
 Ralph, My trusty squire, unlace my helm : give me my 
 hat. 
 
 Where are we, or what desert may this be ? 
 George. Mirror of knighthood, this is, as I take 50 
 
 it, the perilous Waltham-down ; in whose 
 
 bottom stands the enchanted valley. 
 Mist, Mer, Oh, Michael, we are betrayed, we are 
 
 betrayed ! here be giants ! Fly, boy ! fly, 
 
 boy, fly ! \JLxit with Michael leaving the casket, 
 
 Ralph. Lace on my helm again. What noise is this ? 
 
 A gentle lady, flying the embrace 
 
 Of some uncourteous knight ! I will relieve her. 
 
 Go, squire, and say, the Knight, that wears this 
 Pestle 
 
 45 
 
. 
 
 Act II. Sc. ii. csThe Knight of the 
 
 In honour of all ladies, swears revenge 60 
 
 Upon that recreant coward that pursues her ; 
 Go, comfort her, and that same gentle squire 
 That bears her company. 
 
 77m. I g9jj>rave knight. [Exit. 
 
 Ralph. My trusty dwarf and friend, reach me my 
 shield ; 
 And hold it while I swear. First, by my knight- 
 hood ; 
 Then by the soul of Amadis de Gaul, 
 My famous ancestor ; then by my sword 
 The beauteous Brionella girt about me ; 
 By this bright burning Pestle, of mine honour 
 The living trophy ; and by all respect 70 
 
 Due to distressed damsels ; here I vow 
 Never to end the quest of this fair lady 
 And that forsaken squire till by my valour 
 I gain their liberty ! 
 
 George. Heaven bless the knight 
 
 That thus relieves poor errant gentlewomen ! 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 [Wife. Ay, marry, Ralph, this has some savour 
 
 in't; I would see the proudest of them all 
 
 offer to carry his books after him. But, 
 
 George, I will not have him go away so soon ; 
 
 46 
 
Burning Pestles Actli. Sc. ii. 
 
 I shall be sick if he go away, that I shall : 80 
 call Ralph again, George, call Ralph again ; 
 I prithee, sweetheart, let him come fight before 
 me, and let's ha* some drums and some 
 trumpets, and let him kill all that comes near 
 him, an thou lovest me, George ! 
 Cit. Peace a little, bird : he shall kill them all, an 
 they were twenty more on 'em than there are.] 
 
 Enter Jasper. 
 
 Jasp. Now, Fpxtune, if thou be'st not only ill, 
 Show me thy better face, and bring abouj 
 Thy desperate wheel, that I may climb at length, 90 
 AndTtancH This is our place of meeting, 
 If love have any constancy. Oh, age, 
 Where only wealthy men are counted happy ! 
 How shall I please thee, how deserve thy smiles, 
 When I am only rich in misery ? 
 My father's blessing and this little coin 
 Is my inheritance ; a strong revenue ! 
 FrSm earth thou art, and to the earth I give thee : 
 
 [Thrdws away the money. 
 There grow and multiply, whilst fresher air 
 Breeds me a fresher fortune. How ! illusion ? 100 
 
 [Sees the casket. 
 47 
 
Act II. Sc. iii. The Knight of the 
 
 What, hath the devil coined himself before me ? 
 'Tis metal good, it rings well ; I am waking, 
 And taking too, I hope. Now, God's dear blessing 
 Upon his heart that left it here ! 'tis mine ; 
 These pearls, I take it, were not left for swine. 
 
 [Exit with the tasket. 
 \_Wife. I do not like that this unthrifty youth should 
 embezzle away the money; the poor gentle- 
 woman his mother will have a heavy heart for 
 it, God knows. 
 Cit. And reason good, sweetheart. 1 1 o 
 
 Wife. But let him go ; I'll tell Ralph a tale in's 
 ear shall fetch him again with a wanion, I 
 warrant him, if he be above ground ; and 
 besides, George, here are a number of sufficient 
 gentlemen can witness, and myself, and your- 
 self, and the musicians, if we be called in 
 question. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 Another part of the Forest. 
 Enter Ralph and George. 
 
 But here comes Ralph, George ; thou shalt 
 hear him speak as he were an emperal.] 
 48 
 
Burning Pestle s*. Act II. Sc. iii. 
 
 Ralph. Comes not sir squire again ? 
 
 George^' Right courteous knight, 
 
 Your squire doth come, and with him comes the lady, 
 For and the Squire of Damsels, as I take it. 
 
 Enter Tim, Mistress Merrythought and Michael. 
 
 Ralph. Madam, if any service or devoir 
 
 Of a poor errant knight may right your wrongs, 
 Command it ; I am prest to give you succour ; 
 For to that holy end I bear my armour. 
 
 Mist. Mer. Alas, sir, I am a poor gentlewoman, 10 
 and I have lost my money in this forest ! 
 
 Ralph. Desert, you would say, lady ; and not lost 
 
 Whilst I have sword and lance. Dry up your tears, 
 Which ill befit the beauty of that face, 
 And tell the story, if I may request it, 
 Of your disastrous fortune. 
 
 Mist. Mer. Out, alas! I left a thousand pound, 
 a thousand pound, e'en all the money I had 
 laid up for this youth, upon the sight of your 
 mastership ; you looked so grim, and, as I may 20 
 say it, saving your presence, more like a giant 
 than a mortal man. 
 
 Ralph. I^am as you are, lady ; so are they ; 
 
 All mofSH Butwhy weeps this gentle squire ? 
 
 d 49 
 
Act II. Sc. iii. ssThe Knight of the 
 
 Mist. Mer. Has he not cause to weep, do you 
 think, when he hath lost his inheritance ? 
 
 Ralph. Young hope of valour, weep not ; I am here 
 That will confound thy foe, and pay it dear 
 Upon his coward head, that dares deny 
 Distressed squires and ladies equity. 30 
 
 I have but one horse, on which shall ride 
 Trns fair lady behind me, and before 
 This courteous squire : fortune will give us more 
 
 Upon our next adventure. Fairly speed ^ 
 
 Beside us, squire and dwarf, to do us needj/ 
 
 \_Exeunt. 
 
 [Cit. Did not I tell you, Nell, what your man 
 would do ? by the faith of my body, wench, 
 for clean action and good delivery, they may 
 all cast their caps at him. . 
 
 Wife. And so they may, i' faith ; for I dare speak 40 
 it boldly, the twelve companies of London 
 cannot match him, timber for timber. Well, 
 George, an he be not inveigled By some of 
 these paltry players, I ha' much marvel : but, 
 George, we ha' done our parts, if the boy 
 have any grace to be thankful. 
 
 Ciu Yes, I warrant thee, duckling.] 
 
 50 
 
Burning Pestle && Act II. Sc. iv. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 Another part of the Forest, 
 
 Enter Humphrey and Luce. 
 
 Hum. Good Mistress Luce, however I in fault am 
 
 For your lame horse, you're welcome unto Waltham ; 
 But which way now to go, or what to say, ~" 
 I know not truly, till it be broad day. 
 
 Luce. Oh, fear not, Master Humphrey ; I am guide 
 For this place good enough. 
 
 Hum. Then, up and ride ; 
 
 Or, if it please you, walk, for your repose, 
 
 Or sit, or, if you will, go pluck a rose ; 
 
 Either of which shall be indifferent 9 
 
 To your good friend and Humphrey, whose consent 
 
 Is so entangled ever to your will, ^i: 
 
 As the poor harmless horse is to the mill. 
 
 Luce. Faith, an you say the word, we'll e'en sit 
 down, 
 And take a nap. 
 
 Hum. 'Tis better in the town, 
 
 Where we may nap together ; for, believe me, 
 To sleep without a snatch would mickle grieve 
 me. 
 
Act ii. Sc. iv. JsThe Knight of the 
 
 Luce. You're merry, Master Humphrey. 
 Hum. So I am, 
 
 And have been ever merry from my dam. 
 Luce. Your nurse had the less labour. 
 Hum. Faith, it may be, 
 
 Unless it were by chance I did beray me. 20 
 
 Enter Jasper. 
 
 J asp. Luce! dear fri rnd Ti wrr ! 
 
 Luce. Here, Jasper. 
 
 Jasp. You are mine. 
 
 Hum. If it be so, my friend, you use me fine : 
 
 What do you think I am ? 
 Jasp. An arrant noddy. 
 Hum. A word of obloquy ! Now, by God's body, 
 
 I'll tell thy master ; for I know thee well. 
 Jasp. Nay, an you be so forward for to tell, 
 
 Take that, and that ; and tell him, sir, I gave 
 it: 
 
 And say, I paid you well. [Beats him. 
 
 Hum. Oh, sir, I have it, 
 
 And do confess the payment ! Pray, be quiet. 
 Jasp. Go, get you to your night-cap and the diet, 30 
 
 To cure your beaten bones. 
 Luce. Alas, poor Humphrey ; 
 
 52 
 
Burning Pestle 5^ Act II. Sc. iv. 
 
 (Get thee some wholesome broth, with sage and 
 comfrey ; 
 A little oil of roses and a feather 
 To 'noint thy back withal. 
 
 Hum. When i Xejmiejiither, 
 
 Would I had gone to Paris with John Dory ! 
 
 Luce. Farewell, my pretty nump ; I am very sorry 
 I cannot bear thee company. 
 
 Hum. Farewell : 
 
 The devil's dam was ne'er so banged in hell. 
 
 \_Exeunt Luce and Jasper. 
 
 \_Wife. This young Jasper will prove me another 
 
 thing, o' my conscience, an he may be suffered, f 40 
 George, dost not see, George, how 'a swaggers, 
 and flies at the very heads o' folks, as he were 
 a dragon ? Well, if I do not do his lesson for 
 wronging the poor gentleman, I am no true 
 woman. His friends that brought him up 
 might have been better occupied^ i-wk, than 
 have taught him these fegaries : trie's e'en in 
 the high way to the gallows, God bless him ! 
 
 Cit. You're too bitter, cony ; the young man may 
 
 do well enough for all this. 50 
 
 Wife. Come hither, Master Humphrey ; has he 
 hurt you ? now, beshrew his fingers for't ! Here 
 
 53 
 
Act II. Sc. iv. ^The Knight of the 
 
 sweetheart, here's some green ginger for thee. 
 Now, beshrew my heart, but 'a has peppernel 
 in's head, as big as a pullet's egg ! Alas, 
 sweet lamb, how thy temples beat ! Take 
 the peace on him, sweetheart, take the peace 
 on him. 
 
 Cit. No, no ; you talk like a foolish woman : I'll 
 
 ha' Ralph fight with him, and swinge him up 60 
 well-favouredly. Sirrah boy, come hither. 
 {Enter Boy.~\ Let Ralph come in and fight 
 with Jasper. 
 
 Wife. Ay, and beat him well ; he's an unhappy 
 boy// 
 
 , Sfty~you must pardon ; the plot of our play 
 lies contrary ; and 'twill hazard the spoiling of 
 our play. 
 
 Plot me no plots ! I'll ha' Ralph come 
 out ; I'll make your house too hot for you 70 
 else. 
 
 Boy. Why, sir, he shall ; but if any thing fall out of 
 order, the gentlemen must pardon us. 
 
 Cit. Go your ways, goodman boy ! {Exit Boy. 2 
 I'll hold him a penny, he shall have his belly- 
 ful of fighting now. Ho, here comes Ralph ! 
 no more!] 
 
 54 
 
Burning Pestle s^ Act II. Sc v. 
 
 Scene V. 
 
 Another part of the Forest. 
 
 Enter Ralph, Mistress Merrythought, Michael, 
 Tim and George. 
 
 Ralph. What knight is that, squire?' ask him if he 
 keep 
 The passage, bound by love of lady fair, 
 Or else but prickant 
 
 Hum. Sir, I am no knight, 
 
 But a poor gentleman, that this same night 
 Had stolen from me, on yonder green, 
 My lovely wife, and suffered (to be seen 
 Yet extant on my shoulders) such a greeting, 
 That whilst I live I shall think of that meeting. 
 
 {Wife. Ay, Ralph, he beat him unmercifully, 
 
 Ralph; an thou sparest him, Ralph, I would 10 
 thou wert hanged. 
 
 Cit. No more, wife, no more.] 
 
 Ralph. Where is the caitiff- wretch hath done this deed ? 
 Lady, your pardon ; that I may proceed ; 
 Upon the quest of this injurious knight. 
 And thou, fair squire, repute me not the worse, 
 
 55 
 
Act II. Sc. v. The Knight of the 
 
 In leaving the great venture of the purse 
 And the rich casket, till some better leis ure/ / 
 Hum. Here comes the broker hath purloined my treasure. 
 
 Enter Jasper and Luce. 
 
 Ralph. Go, squire, and tell him I am here, 20 
 
 An errant knight-at-arms, to crave delivery 
 
 Of that fair lady to her own knight's arms. 
 
 If he deny, bid him take choice of ground, 
 
 And so defy him. 
 Tim. From the Knight that bears 
 
 The Golden Pestle, I defy thee, knight, 
 
 Unless thou make fair restitution 
 
 Of that bright lady. 
 Jasp. Tell the knight that sent thee, 
 
 He is an ass ; and I will keep the wench, 
 
 And knock his head-piece. 
 Ralph. Knight, thou art but dead, 
 
 If thou recall not thy uncourteous terms. 30 
 
 [Wife. Break y s pate, Ralph ; break 's pate, Ralph, 
 
 soundly!] 
 Jasp. Come, knight ; I am ready for you. Now your 
 Pesde [Snatches aivay his pestle. 
 
 Shall try what temper, sir, your mortar's of. 
 
 With that he stood upright in his stirrups, and 
 56 
 
Burning Pestles Actil. Sc. v. 
 
 gave the Knight of the calf-skin such a knock 
 [Knocks Ralph down.'] that he forsook his 
 horse, and down he fell ; and then he leaped 
 upon him, and plucking off his helmet K . : 
 
 Hum. Nay, an my noble knight be down so soon, 40 
 Though I can scarcely go, I needs must run. [Exit. 
 
 [Wife. Run, Ralph, run, Ralph ; run for thy life, 
 
 boy ; Jasper comes, Jasper comes !] [Exit Ralph. 
 
 Jasp. Come Luce, we must have other arras for you : 
 Humphrey, and Golden Pestle, both adieu ! 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 [Wife. Sure the devil (God bless us!) is in this 
 springald ! Why, George, didst ever see such 
 a fire-drake? I am afraid my boy's mis- 
 carried : if he be, though he were Master 
 Merrythought's son a thousand times, if 50 
 there be any law in England, I'll make some 
 of them smart for't. 
 
 C'tt. No, no ; I have found out the matter, sweet- 
 heart ; as sure as we are here, he is enchanted : 
 he could no more have stood in italplr's hands 
 than I can in my lord mayor's. I'll have a 
 ring to discover all enchantments, and Ralph 
 shall beat him yet : be no more vexed, for it 
 shall be so.] 
 
Act II. Sc. vi. -JsThe Knight of 'the 
 
 Scene VI. 
 
 Before the Bell-Inn, Waltham. 
 
 Enter Ralph, Mistress Merrythought, Michael, 
 Tim and George. 
 
 \_Wife. Oh, husband, here's Ralph again ! Stay, 
 Ralph again, let me speak with thee. How 
 dost thou, Ralph ? art thou not shrewdly 
 hurt ? the foul great lungies laid unmercifully 
 on thee: there's some sugar-candy for thee. 
 Proceed ; thou shalt have another bout with 
 him. 
 
 Cit. If Ralph had him at the fencing-school, if he 
 did not make a puppy of him, and drive him 
 up and down the school, he should ne'er come 
 in my shop more.] 
 
 Mist. Mer. Truly Master Knight of the Burning 
 Pestle, I am weary. 
 
 Mich. Indeed, la, mother, and I am very hungry. 
 
 Ralph. Take comfort, gentle dame, and you, fair squire ; 
 Fpr in this desert there must needs be placed 
 Many strong castles, held by courteous knights ; 
 And till I bring you safe to one of those, 
 I swear by this my order ne'er to leave you. 
 58 
 
Burning Pestle s^ Act II. Sc. vi. 
 
 [Wife. Well said, Ralph! George, Ralph was 20 
 eveTcomfortable, was he not ? 
 
 Cit. Yes, duck. 
 
 Wife. I shall ne'er forget him. When he had lost 
 our child, (you know it was strayed almost 
 alone to Puddle-Wharf, and the criers were 
 abroad for it, and there it had drowned itself 
 but for a sculler, ) Ralph was the most comfort- 
 ablest to me : " Peace, mistress/ ' says he, " let 
 it go ; I'll get you another as good." Did he 
 not, George, did he not say so ? 30 
 
 Cit. Yes, indeed did he, mouse.] 
 
 George. I would we had a mess of pottage and a pot 
 of drink, squire, and were going to bed ! 
 
 77m. Why, we are at Waltham- town's end, and 
 that's the Bell-Inn. 
 
 George. Take courage, valiant knight, damsel, and squire ! 
 I have discovered, not a stone's cast off, 
 An ancient castle, held by the old knight 
 Of the most holy order of the Bell, 
 Who gives to all knights-errant entertain : 40 
 
 There plenty is of food, and all prepared 
 By the white hands of his own lady dear. 
 He hath three squires that welcome all his guests ; 
 The first, hight Chamberlino, who will see 
 59 
 
Act II. Sc. vi. 2sThe Knight of the 
 
 Our beds prepared, and bring us snowy sheets, 
 Where never footman stretched his buttered 
 
 ham s ; ^ > 
 The second, hight Tapstero, who will see 
 Our pots full filled, and no froth therein ; 
 The third, a gentle squire, Ostlero hight, 
 Who will our palfreys slick with wisps of straw, 50 
 And in the manger put them oats enough, 
 And never grease their teeth with candle-snuffs 
 
 \Wifc. That same dwarf's a pretty boy, but the 
 squire's a groutnol.J 
 
 Ralph, Knock at the gates, my squire, with stately lance. 
 
 [77m knocks at the door. 
 
 Enter Tapster. 
 
 Tap. Who's there ? You're welcome, gentlemen : 
 
 will you see a rooiil J '" 
 
 George. Right courteous and valiant Knight of the 
 
 Burning Pestle, this is the Squire Tapstero. 
 Ralph. Fair Squire Tapstero, I a wandering knight, 60 
 
 Hight of the Burning Pestle, in the quest 
 
 Of this fair lady's casket and wrought purse, 
 
 Losing myself in this vast wilderness, 
 
 Am to this castle well by fortune brought ; 
 
 Where, hearing of the goodly entertain 
 l_ 60 
 
Burning Pestles^ Act II. Sc. vii. 
 
 Your knight of holy order of the Bell 
 
 Gives to all damsels and all errant knights, 
 
 I thought to knock, and now am bold to enter. 
 Tap. An't please you see a chamber, you are very 
 
 welcome. [Exeunt. 70 
 
 [Wife. George, I would have something done, and 
 
 I cannot tell what it is. 
 Cit. What is it, Nell ? 
 Wife. Why, George, shall Ralph beat nobody again ? 
 
 prithee, sweetheart, let him. 
 Cit. So he shall, Nell ; and if I join with him, 
 
 we'll knock them all.] 
 
 Scene VII. 
 A Room in the House of Venturewell. 
 Enter Humphrey and Venturewell. 
 
 {Wife. Oh, George, here's Master Humphrey again 
 now that lost Mistress Luce, and Mistress 
 Luce's father. Master Humphrey will do 
 somebody's errand, I warrant him.] 
 
 Hum. Father, it's true in arms I ne'er shall clasp her? 
 For she is stoln away by your man Jasper. 
 
 [Wife. I thought he would tell him.] 
 
Act II. Sc. vii. The Knight of the 
 
 Vent. Unhappy that I am, to lose my child ! 
 Now I begin to think on Jasper's words, 
 Who oft hath urged to me thy foolishness : i o 
 
 Why didst thou let her go ? thou lov'st her not, 
 TriaTwouldst bring home thy life, and not bring her. 
 
 Hum. Father, forgive me. Shall I tell you true ? 
 
 Jkook on my shoulders, they are black and blue : 
 Whilst to and fro fair Luce and I were winding, 
 He came and basted me with a hedge-binding. 
 
 Vent. Get men and horses straight : we will be there 
 Within this hour. You know the place again ! 
 
 Hum. I know the place where he my loins did 
 swaddle ; 
 I'll get six horses, and to each a saddle. 20 
 
 Vent. Meantime I will go talk with Jasper's father. 
 
 [_Exeunt severally. 
 
 \JVife. George, what wilt thou lay with me now, 
 that Master Humphrey has not Mistress Luce 
 yet ? speak, George, what wilt thou lay with 
 
 me 
 
 > 
 
 Cit. No, Nell ; I warrant thee, Jasper is at 
 
 Puckeridge with her by this. 
 Wife. Nay, George, you must consider Mistress 
 
 Luce's feet are tender ; and besides 'tis dark ; 
 
 and, I promise you truly, I do not see how he 30 
 
 6a 
 
Burning Pestle s^ Act II. Sc. viii. 
 
 should get out of Waltham-forest with her 
 
 yet. 
 Cit. Nay, cony, what wilt thou lay with me, that 
 
 Ralph has her not yet ? 
 Wife. I will not lay against Ralph, honey, because 
 
 I have not spoken with him.] 
 
 Scene VIII. ttsJ* 
 
 A Room in Merrythought' s House. 
 Enter Merrythought. 
 
 \Wife. But look, George, peace ! here comes the 
 
 merry old gentleman again.] 
 Mer. {$ings.~\ 
 
 When it was grown to dark midnight, 
 
 And all were fast asleep, 
 In came Margaret's grimly ghost, 
 
 And stood at William's feet. 
 
 I have money, and meat, and drink beforehand, 
 till to-morrow at noon ; why should I be sad ? 
 methinks I have half-a-dozen jovial spirits 
 within me ! 10 
 
 [Sings.'] I am three merry men, and three merry men! 
 
 To what end should any man be sad in this 
 
 
Act II. Sc. viii. ssThe Knight of the 
 
 world ? give me a man that when he goes to 
 hanging cries, 
 
 Troul the black bowl to me ! 
 
 and a woman that will sing a catch in her 
 travail ! I have seen a man come by my door 
 with a serious face, in a black cloak, without 
 a hat-band, carrying his head as if he looked 
 for pins in the street; I have looked out of my ?o 
 window half a year after, and have spied that 
 man's head upon London-bridge. 'Tis vile : 
 never trust a tailor that does not sing at his 
 woj*kj his mind is of nothing but filching. 
 
 [Wife.i Mark this, George; 'tis worth noting; 
 Godfrey my tailor, you know, never sings, and 
 he had fourteen yards to make this gown : and 
 I'll be sworn, Mistress Penistone the draper's 
 wife had one made with twelve.] 
 
 Mer. {Sings.'] 
 
 'Tis m irth that fills the veins with blood, 30 
 
 More than win e, or sleep, orTood ; 
 Let each man keep HTsTeTrTaT ease 
 No man dies of that disease. 
 He that would his body keep 
 From diseases, must not weep ; 
 64 
 
B urning Pestle =^ Act 1 1 . Sc. viii. 
 
 
 Bu t whoe ver laughs and sings, 
 
 NeverhemTBody brings 
 
 Into fevers, gouts, or rheums, 
 
 Or lingeringly his lungs consumes, 
 
 Or meets with aches in the bone, 40 
 
 Or catarrhs or griping stone ; 
 
 But contented lives for aye ; ^ 
 
 The more he laughs, the more he may. 
 
 [Wife, Look, George ; how sayst thou by this, 
 George ? is't not a fine old man ? Now, 
 God's blessing 0' thy sweet lips ! When wilt 
 thou be so merry, George ? faith, thou art the 
 frowningest little thing, when thou art angry, 
 in a country. 
 
 Cit. Peace, cony ; thou shalt see him taken down 50 
 too, I warrant thee. 
 
 Enter VenturewelL 
 
 Here's Luce's father come now.] 
 Mer. [Sings."] 
 
 As you came from Walsingham, 
 From that holy land, 
 
 I There met you not with my true love 
 By the way as you came ? 
 
Act ii. Sc viii. ss The Knight of the 
 
 Vent. Oh, Master Merrythought, my daughter's gone ! 
 
 This mirth becomes you not ; my daughter's gone ! 
 Mer. [Sings.'] 
 
 Why, an if she be, what care I ? 
 
 Or let her come, or go, or tarry. 60 
 
 FenU Mock not my misery ; .it is -your .son 
 
 (Whom I have made my own, when all forsook 
 ^"> himT? 
 Has stoln my only joy, my child, away. 
 
 Mer. [Sings.'] 
 
 He set her on a milk-white steed, 
 
 And himself upon a grey ; 
 He never turned his face again, 
 
 But he bore her quite away. 
 
 Vent. Unworthy of the kindness I have shown 
 To thee and thine ! too late I well perceive 
 Thou art consenting to my daughter's loss. 70 
 
 Mer. Your daughter ! what a stir's here wi' your 
 daughter ? Let her go, think no more on her, 
 but sing loud. If both my sons were on the 
 gallows, I would sing, [Sings. 
 
 Down, down, down they fall ; 
 Down, and arise they never shall. 
 
 66 
 
Burning Pestle && Act II. Sc. viii. 
 
 Vent. Oh, might I behold her once again, 
 
 And she once more embrace her aged sire ! 
 
 Mer. Fie, how scurvily this goes ! " And she once 
 
 more embrace her aged sire ? " You'll make 80 
 a dog on her, will ye ? she cares much for her 
 aged sire, I warrant you. [Sings. 
 
 She cares not for her daddy, nor 
 She cares not for her mammy, 
 
 For she is, she is, she is, she is 
 My lord of Lowgave's lassy. 
 
 Vent. For this thy scorn I will PgjgC JjfljLM u 
 
 Of thine to death,; . 
 Mer. Do"; and when you ha' killed him, [Sings* 
 
 Give him flowers enow, palmer, give him flowers 
 enow ; 90 
 
 Give him red, and white, and blue, green, and 
 yellow. 
 
 Vent. I'll fetch my daughter 
 
 Mer. ELLhear no more o'jrour daughter ; it spoils 
 
 m^jnu&b. 
 Vent J I say, I'll fetch my daughter. 
 
 ^^ 67 
 
Act II. Sc. viii. 2sThe Knight of the 
 
 Mer, [Sings. ^\ 
 
 Was never man for lady's sake, 
 
 Down, down, 
 Tormented as I poor Sir Guy, 
 
 De derry down, 
 For Lucy's sake, that lady bright, ioo 
 
 Down, down, 
 As ever men beheld with eye, 
 
 De derry down, y 
 
 Vent, I'll be revenged, by Heaven ! [Exeunt severally, 
 
 [Wife, How dost thou like this, George ? 
 
 Cit, Why, this is well, cony ; but if Ralph were 
 
 hot once, thou shouldst see more. [Music, 
 
 Wife, The fiddlers go again, husband. ^^ 
 
 Cit, Ay, Nell ; but this is scurvy music. [ I gave 
 
 the whoreson gallows money, and I think he 1 10 
 
 has not got me the waits of Southwark : if I 
 
 hear 'em not anon, I'll twinge him by the 
 
 ears. t- You musicians, play Baloo ! 
 Wife, No, good George, let's ha' Lachrymae ! 
 Cit, Why, this is it, cony. 
 Wife, It's all the better, George. Now, sweet 
 
 lamb, what story is that painted upon the cloth ? 
 
 the Confutation of St Paul ? 
 
Burning Pestles^ Act in. Sc. i. 
 
 Cit. No, lamb ; that's Ralph and Lucrece. 
 
 Wife. Ralph and Lucrece! which Ralph? our 120 
 
 Ralph ? 
 Cit. No, mouse ; that was a Tartarian. 
 Wife. A Tartarian ! Well, I would the fiddlers had 
 
 done, that we might see our Ralph again ! ] 
 
 Act Third. 
 Scene I. 
 
 Walt ham -forest. 
 Enter Jasper and Luce. 
 
 Jasp. Come, my dear dear ; though we have lost our way 
 We have not lost ourselves. Are you not weary 
 With this night's wandering, broken from your rest, 
 And frighted with the terror that attends 
 The darkness of this wild unpeopled place ? 
 
 Luce. No, my best friend ; I cannot either fear, 
 Or entertain a weary thought, whilst you 
 (The end of all my full desires) stand by me : 
 Let them that lose their hopes, and live to languish 
 Amongst the number of forsaken lovers, 10 
 
 Tell the long weary steps, and number time, 
 69 
 
 
Act in. Sc. i. The Knight of the 
 
 Start at a shadow, and shrink up their blood, 
 
 Whilst I (possessed with all content and quiet) 
 
 Thus take my pretty love, and thus embrace him. 
 J asp. You have caught me, Luce, so fast, that, whilst 
 I live, 
 
 I shall become your faithful prisoner, 
 
 And wear these chains for ever. Come, sit down, 
 
 And rest your body, too, too delicate 
 
 For these disturbances. [They sit dowrT^ So: will 
 you sleep ? 
 
 Come, do not be more able than you are ; 20 
 
 I know you are not skilful in these watches, 
 
 For women are no soldiers : be not nice, 
 
 But take it ; sleep, I say. 
 Luce. I cannot sleep ; 
 
 Indeed, I cannot, friend. 
 Jasp. Why, then, we'll sing, 
 
 And try how that will work upon our senses. 
 Luce. I'll sing, or say, or any thing but sleep. 
 Jasp. Come, little mermaid, rob me of my heart 
 
 With that enchanting voice. 
 Luce. You mock me, Jasper. [They sing. 
 
 Jasp. Tell me, dearest, what is love ? 
 
 Luce. 'Tis a lightning from above ; 30 
 
 70 
 
Burning Pestles Actin. Sc. L 
 
 'Tis an arrow, 'tis a fire, 
 'Tis a boy they call Desire ; 
 
 'Tis a smile 
 
 Doth beguile 
 Jasp. The poor hearts of men that prove. 
 
 Tell me more, are women true ? 
 Luce. Some love change, and so do you. 
 
 Jasp. Are they fair and never kind ? 
 
 Luce. Yes, when men turn with the wind. 
 
 Jasp. Are they froward ? 40 
 
 Luce. Ever toward 
 
 Those that love, to love anew. 
 
 Jasp. Dissemble it no more ; I see the god 
 Of heavy sleep lay on his heavy mace 
 Upon your eyelids. 
 
 Luce. I am very heavy. \_Sleeps. 
 
 Jasp. Sleep, sleep ; and quiet rest crown thy sweet 
 thoughts ! 
 Keep from her fair blood distempers, startings, 
 Horrors, and fearful shapes ! let all her dreams 
 Be joys, and chaste delights, embraces, wishes, 
 And such new pleasures as the ravished soul 50 
 
 Gives to the senses ! So ; my charms have took. 
 Keep her, you powers divine, whilst I contemplate 
 71 
 
Act III. Sc. i. ^The Knight of the 
 
 Upon the wealth and beauty of her mind ! 
 She is only fair and constant, only kind, 
 And only to thee, Jasper. Oh, my joys ! 
 Whither will you transport me ? let not fulness 
 Of my poor buried hopes come up together 
 And overcharge my spirits ! I am weak. 
 Some say (however ill) the sea and women 
 Are governed by the moon ; both ebb and flow, 60 
 Both full of changes ; yet to them that know, 
 And truly judge, these but opinions are, 
 And heresies, to bring on pleasing war 
 Between our tempers, that without these were 
 Both void of after-love and present fear, 
 Which are the best of Cupid. Oh, thou child 
 Bred from despair, I dare not entertain thee, 
 Having a love without the faults of women, 
 And greater in her perfect goods than men 1 
 Which to make good, and please myself the 
 stronger, 70 
 
 Though certainly I am certain of her love, 
 I'll try her, that the world and memory 
 May sing to after-times her constancy. 
 
 [Draws bis savord. 
 Luce ! Luce ! awake ! 
 Luce. Why do you fright me, friend, 
 
 72 
 
Burning Pestle Act III. Sc. i. 
 
 With those distempered looks ? what makes your 
 
 sword 
 Drawn in your hand ? who hath offended you ? 
 I prithee, Jasper, sleep ; thou art wild with watching. 
 
 J asp. Come, make your way to Heaven, and bid the 
 world, 
 With all the villanies that stick upon it, 
 Farewell ; you're for another life. 80 
 
 Luce. Oh, Jasper, 
 
 How have my tender years committed evil, 
 Especially against the man I love, 
 Thus to be cropped untimely ? 
 
 J asp. Foolish girl, 
 
 Canst thou imagine I could love his daughter 
 That flung me from my fortune into nothing ? 
 Discharged me his service, shut the doors 
 Upon my poverty, and scorned my prayers, 
 Sending me, like a boat without a mast, 
 To sink or swim ? Come ; by this hand you die ; 
 I must have life and blood, to satisfy 90 
 
 Your father's wrongs. 
 
 {Wife. Away, George, away ! raise the watch at 
 
 Ludgate, and bring a mittimus from the justice 
 
 for this desperate villain ! Now, I charge you, 
 
 gentlemen, see the king's peace kept ! Oh, 
 
 73 
 
Act in. Sc. i. ^The Knight of the 
 
 my heart, what a varlet's this, to offer man- 
 slaughter upon the harmless gentlewoman ! 
 
 Cit. I warrant thee, sweetheart, we'll have him 
 hampered.] 
 
 Luce. Oh, Jasper, be not cruel ! ioo 
 
 If thou wilt kill me, smile, and do it quickly, 
 And let not many deaths appear before me ; 
 I am a woman, made of fear and love, 
 A weak, weak woman ; kill not with thy eyes, 
 They shoot me through and through : strike, I am 
 
 ready ; 
 And, dying, still I love thee. 
 
 Enter Venturewell, Humphrey and Attendants. 
 
 Vent. Whereabouts? 
 
 Jasp. No more of this ; now to myself again. [_ Aside. 
 
 Hum. There, there he stands, with sword, like .martial 
 knight, 
 Drawn in his hand ; therefore beware the fight, 
 You that be wise ; for, were I good Sir Bevis, 1 10 
 I would not stay his coming, by your leaves. 
 
 Vent. Sirrah, restore my daughter ! 
 
 Jasp. Sirrah, no. 
 
 Vent. Upon him, then ! 
 
 \Tbey attack Jasper, and force Luce from htm. 
 
 74 
 
Burning Pestles Act in. Sc. i. 
 
 [Wife, So ; down with him, down with him, down 
 with him ! cut him i' the leg, boys, cut him i' 
 the leg !] 
 
 Vent, Come your ways, minion : I'll provide a cage 
 For you, you're grown so tame. Horse her away. 
 
 Hum, Truly, I'm glad your forces have the day. 
 
 [Exeunt all except Jasper, 
 
 J asp. They are gone, and I am hurt ; my love is lost, 
 Never to get again. Oh, me unhappy ! 121 
 
 Bleed, bleed and die ! I cannot. Oh, my folly, 
 Thou hast betrayed me ! Hope, where art thou 
 
 fled? 
 Tell me, if thou be'st any where remaining, 
 Shall I but see my love again ? Oh, no ! 
 She will not deign to look upon her butcher, 
 Nor is it fit she should ; yet I must venture. 
 Oh, Chance, or Fortune, or whate'er thou art, 
 That men adore for powerful, hear my cry, 
 And let me loving live, or losing die ! [Exit. 130 
 
 [Wife, Is 'a gone, George? 
 
 Cit, Ay, cony. 
 
 Wife, Marry, and let him go, sweetheart. By the 
 
 faith o' my body, 'a has put me into such a 
 
 fright, that I tremble (as they say) as 'twere an 
 
 aspen-leaf. Look o' my little finger, George, 
 
 75 
 
Actiii.Sc.ii. cs The Knight of the 
 
 how it shakes. Now, in truth, every member of 
 my body is the worse for't. 
 Cit. Come, hug in mine arms, sweet mouse ; he shall 
 
 not fright thee any more. Alas, mine own dear 140 
 heart, how it quivers ! ] 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 A Room in the Bell-Inn, Waltham. 
 
 Enter Mistress Merrythought, Ralph, Michael, Tim, 
 George, Host and Tapster. _ 1- 
 
 {Wife. Oh, Ralph ! how dost thou, Ralph ? How 
 hast thou slept to-night? has the knight used 
 thee well ? 
 
 Cit. Peace, Nell ; let Ralph alone.] 
 
 Tap. Master, the reckoning is not paid. 
 
 Ralph. Right courteous knight, who, for the order's sake 
 Which thou hast ta'en, hang'st out the holy Bell, 
 As I this flaming Pestle bear about, 
 We render thanks to your puissant self, 
 Your beauteous lady, and your gentle squires, 10 
 For thus refreshing of our wearied limbs, 
 Stiffened with hard achievements in wild desert. 
 
 Tap. Sir, there is twelve shillings to pay. 
 
 76 
 
Burning Pestle ^ Act in. Sc. ii. 
 
 Ralph. Thou merry Squire Tapstero, thanks to thee 
 For comforting our souls with double jug : 
 And, if adventurous fortune prick thee forth, 
 Thou jovial squire, to follow feats of arms, 
 Take heed thou tender every lady's cause, 
 Every true knight, and every damsel fair ; 
 But spill the blood of treacherous Saracens, 20 
 
 And false enchanters that with magic spells 
 Have done to death full many a noble knight. 
 
 Host. Thou valiant Knight of the Burning Pestle, 
 give ear to me ; there is twelve shillings to pay, 
 and, as I am a true knight, I will not bate a 
 penny. 
 
 \_Wife. George, I prithee, tell me, must Ralph pay 
 twelve shillings now ? 
 
 Cit. No, Nell, no ; nothing but the old knight is 
 
 merry with Ralph. 30 
 
 Wife. Oh, is't nothing else ? Ralph will be as merry 
 as he.] 
 
 Ralph. Sir Knight, this mirth of yours becomes you 
 well; 
 But, to requite this liberal courtesy, 
 If any of your squires will follow arms, 
 He shall receive from my heroic hand 
 A knighthood, by the virtue of this Pestle. 
 77 
 
Act in. Sc. ii. The Knight of the 
 
 Host. Fair knight, I thank you for your noble offer : 
 Therefore, gentle knight, 
 Twelve shillings you must pay, or I must cap you. 40 
 
 \_Wife. Look, George ! did not I tell thee as 
 much ? the knight of the Bell is in earnest. 
 Ralph shall not be beholding to him : give him 
 his money, George, and let him go snick up. 
 
 Cit. Cap Ralph ! no. Hold your hand, Sir 
 Knight of the Bell ; there's your money [gives 
 money~] : have you any thing to say to Ralph 
 isxm ? Cap Ralph ! 
 
 Wife. I would you should know it, Ralph has 
 
 friends that will not suffer him to be capt for 50 
 ten times so much, and ten times to the end of 
 that. Now take thy course, Ralph.] 
 
 Mist. Mer. Come, Michael; thou and I will go 
 home to thy father ; he hath enough left to 
 keep us a day or two, and we'll set fellows 
 abroad to cry our purse and our casket : shall 
 we, Michael ? 
 
 Mich. Ay, I pray, mother ; in truth my feet are 
 full of chilblains with travelling. 
 
 \JVife. Faith, and those chilblains are a foul trouble. 60 
 
 Mistress Merrythought, when your youth comes 
 
 home, let him rub all the soles of his feet, and 
 
 78 
 
Burning Pestle && Actm.Sc.ii 
 
 his heels, and his aneles with a mouse-skin ; 
 or, if none of your people can catch a mouse, 
 when he goes to bed, let him roll his feet in 
 the warm embers, and, I warrant you, he shall 
 be well ; and you may make him put his fingers 
 between his toes, and smell to them ; it's very 
 sovereign for his head, if he be costive.] 
 
 Mist. Mer. Master Knight of the Burning Pestle, 70 
 my son Michael and I bid you farewell : I 
 thank your worship heartily for your kindness. 
 
 Ralph. Farewell, fair lady, and your tender squire. 
 If pricking through these deserts, I do hear 
 Of any traitorous knight, who through his guile 
 Hath light upon your casket and your purse, 
 I will despoil him of them, and restore them. 
 
 Mist. Mer. I thank your worship. [Exit with Michael. 
 
 Ralph. Dwarf, bear my shield; squire, elevate my 
 lance : 
 And now farewell, you Knight of holy Bell. 80 
 
 [_Cit. Ay, ay, Ralph, all is paid.] 
 
 Ralph. But yet, before I go, speak, worthy knight, 
 Of aught you do of sad adventures know, 
 Where errant knight may through his prowess win 
 Eternal fame, and free some gentle souls 
 From endless bonds of steel and lingering pain. 
 79 
 

 
 Act in. Sc. ii. The Knight of the 
 
 Host. Sirrah, go to Nick the barber, and bid him 
 prepare himself, as I told you before, quickly. 
 
 Tap. I am gone, sir. [Exit. 
 
 Host. Sir Knight, this wilderness affordeth none 90 
 
 But the great venture, where full many a knight 
 Hath tried his prowess, and come off with shame ; 
 And where I would not have you lose your life 
 Against no man, but furious fiend of hell. 
 
 Ralph. Speak on, Sir Knight ; tell what he is and 
 where : 
 For here I vow, upon my blazing badge, 
 Never to blaze a day in quietness, 
 But bread and water will I only eat, 
 And the green herb and rock shall be my couch, 
 Till I have quelled that man, or beast, or fiend, 100 
 That works such damage to all errant knights. 
 
 Host. Not far from hence, near to a craggy cliff, 
 At the north end of this distressed town, 
 There doth stand a lowly house, 
 Ruggedly builded, and in it a cave 
 In which an ugly giant now doth won, 
 Ycleped Barbarossa : in his hand 
 He shakes a naked lance of purest steel, 
 With sleeves turned up ; and him before he wears 
 
 A modey garment, to preserve his clothes no 
 
 80 
 
Burning Pestles^ Act m. Sc. ii. 
 
 From blood of those knights which he massacres 
 And ladies gent : without his door doth hang 
 A copper basin on a prickant spear ; 
 At which no sooner gentle knights can knock, 
 But the shrill sound fierce Barbarossa hears, 
 And rushing forth, brings in the errant knight, 
 And sets him down in an enchanted chair ; 
 Then with an engine, which he hath prepared, 
 With forty teeth, he claws his courtly crown ; 
 Next makes him wink, and underneath his chin 120 
 He plants a brazen piece of mighty bord, 
 And knocks his bullets round about his cheeks ; 
 Whilst with his fingers, and an instrument 
 With which he snaps his hair off, he doth fill 
 The wretch's ears with a most hideous noise : 
 Thus every knight-adventurer he doth trim, 
 And now no creature dares encounter him. 
 Ralph. In God's name, I will fight with him. Kind sir, 
 Go but before me to this dismal cave, 
 Where this huge giant Barbarossa dwells, 130 
 
 And, by that virtue that brave Rosicleer 
 That damn&d brood of ugly giants slew, 
 And Palmerin Frannarco overthrew, 
 I doubt not but to curb this traitor foul, 
 And to the devil send his guilty soul. 
 
Act in. Sc. ii. s The Knight of thu 
 
 Ho st. Brave-sprighted knight, thus far I will perform 
 This your request ; I'll bring you within sight 
 Of this most loathsome place, inhabited 
 By a more loathsome man ; but dare not stay, 
 For his main force swoops all he sees away. 14* 
 
 Ralph. Saint George, set on before ! march squire an< 
 page ! [Exeunt 
 
 [Wife. George, dost think Ralph will confound the 
 giant ? 
 
 Cit. I hold my cap to a farthing he does : why, 
 Nell, I saw him wrestle with the great Dutch- 
 man, and hurl him. 
 
 Wife. Faith, and that Dutchman was a goodly man, 
 if all things were answerable to his bigness. 
 And yet they say there was a Scotchman higher 
 than he, and that they two and a knight met, 1 5c 
 and saw one another for nothing. But of all 
 the sights that ever were in London, since I 
 was married, methinks the little child that was 
 so fair grown about the members was the 
 prettiest ; that and the hermaphrodite. 
 
 Cit. Nay, by your leave, Nell, Ninivie was better. 
 
 Wife. Ninivie ! oh, that was the story of Jone and 
 
 the wall, was it not, George ? 
 
 Cit. Yes, lamb.] 
 
 82 
 
jjjurning Pestle && Act in. Sc iii. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 The Street before Merrythought' s House. 
 
 Enter Mrs Merrythought. 
 
 Wife. Look, George, here comes Mistress Merry- 
 thought again ! and I would have Ralph come 
 and fight with the giant ; I tell you true, I long 
 to see't. 
 . Good Mistress Merrythought, begone, I pray 
 you, for my sake ; I pray you, forbear a little ; 
 you shall have audience presently ; I have a 
 little business. 
 
 Wife. Mistress Merrythought, if it please you to 
 
 refrain your passion a little, till Ralph have 10 
 despatched the giant out of the way, we shall 
 . think ourselves much bound to you. \JExit 
 Mistress Merry thought. ~\ I thank you, good 
 Mistress Merrythought. 
 
 Cit. Boy, come hither. \_Enter Boy. 2 Send away 
 Ralph and this whoreson giant quickly. 
 
 Boy. In good faith, sir, we cannot ; you'll utterly 
 spoil our play, and make it to be hissed ; and 
 it cost money ; you will not suffer us to go on 
 with our plot. I pray, gentlemen, rule him. 20 
 83 
 
Act in. Sc. iv. 2gsThe Knight of the 
 
 Cit. Let him come now and despatch this, and I'll 
 trouble you no more. 
 
 Boy, Will you give me your hand of that ? 
 
 Wife. Give him thy hand, George, do ; and I'll kiss 
 him. I warrant thee, the youth means plainly. 
 
 Boy. I'll send him to you presently. 
 
 Wife. [Kissing him.~] I thank you, little youth. 
 [Exit Boy. ^ Faith, the child hath a sweet 
 breath, George ; but I thin^ it be troubled 
 with the worms ; carduus benedictus and 30 
 mare's milk were the only thing in the 
 world for't. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 Before a Barber's Shop, Waltham. 
 
 Enter Ralph, Host, Tim, and George. 
 
 Wife. Oh, Ralph's here, George ! God send thee 
 
 good luck, Ralph !] 
 Host. Puissant knight, yonder his mansion is. 
 
 Lo, where the spear and copper basin are ! 
 
 Behold that string, on which hangs many a tooth, 
 
 Drawn from the gentle jaw of wandering knights ! 
 
 I dare not stay to sound ; he will appear. [Exit. 
 Ralph. Oh, faint not, heart ! Susan, my lady dear, 
 84 
 
Burning Pestle a& Act in. Sc. iv. 
 
 The cobbler's maid in Milk-street, for whose sake 
 
 I take these arms, oh, let the thought of thee 10 
 
 Carry thy knight through all adventurous deeds ; 
 
 And, in the honour of thy beauteous self, 
 
 May I destroy this monster Barbarossa ! VjMfl , 
 
 Knock, squire, upon the basin, till it break 
 
 With the shrill strokes, or till the giant speak. 
 
 \Tim knocks upon the basin. 
 
 Enter Barber, 
 
 {Wife. Oh, George, the giant, the giant! Now, 
 Ralph for thy life!] 
 
 Bar. What fond unknowing wight is this, that dares 
 So rudely knock at Barbarossa's cell, 
 Where no man comes but leaves his fleece behind ? 20 
 
 Ralph. I, traitorous caitirT, who am sent by fate 
 To punish all the sad enormities 
 Thou hast committed against ladies gent 
 And errant knights. Traitor to God and men, 
 Prepare thyself; this is the dismal hour 
 Appointed for thee to give strict account 
 Of all thy beastly treacherous villanies. 
 
 Bar. Fool-hardy knight, full soon thou shalt aby 
 This fond reproach : thy body will I bang ; 
 
 [Takes down his pole. 
 85 
 
Act in. Sc. iv. ^The Knight of the 
 
 And, lo, upon that string thy teeth shall hang ! 30 
 Prepare thyself, for dead soon shalt thou be. 
 
 Ralph. Saint George for me ! [They fight. 
 
 Bar. Gargantua for me ! 
 
 t\_Wife. To him, Ralph, to him ! hold up the giant; 
 set out thy leg before, Ralph ! 
 Cit. Falsify a blow, Ralph, falsify a blow ! the 
 
 giant lies open on the left side. 
 Wife. Bear't off, bear't off still ! there, boy ! 
 
 Oh, Ralph's almost down, Ralph's almost down !] 
 Ralph. Susan, inspire me ! now have up again. 
 Wife. Up, up, up, up, up ! so, Ralph ! down with 40 
 
 him, down with him, Ralph ! 
 Cit. Fetch him o'er the hip, boy ! 
 
 \JRalph knocks down the Barber. 
 Wife. There, boy ! kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, Ralph ! 
 Cit. No, Ralph ; get all out of him first.] 
 Ralph. Presumptuous man, see to what desperate end 
 
 Thy treachery hath brought thee ! The just 
 
 gods, 
 Who never prosper those that do despise them, 
 For all the villanies which thou hast done 
 To knights and ladies, now have paid thee home 
 By my stiff arm, a knight adventurous. 50 
 
 But say, vile wretch, before I send thy soul 
 
 86 
 
Burning Pestles^ Act in. Sc. iv. 
 
 To sad Avernus, (whither it must go) 
 What captives holdst thou in thy sable cave ? (V 
 Bar. Go in, and free them all ; thou hast the day. 
 Ralph. Go, squire and dwarf, search in this dreadful 
 cave, 
 And free the wretched prisoners from their bonds. 
 
 \_Exeunt Tim and George. 
 Bar. I crave for mercy, as thou art a knight, 
 
 And scorn'st to spill the blood of those that beg. 
 Ralph. Thou show'd'st no mercy, nor shalt thou have 
 any; 
 Prepare thyself, for thou shalt surely die. 60 
 
 Re-enter Tim leading a Man vuinfang, 'with a Basin 
 under his Chin. 
 
 Tim. Behold, brave knight, here is one prisoner, 
 Whom this vile man hath usM as you see. 
 
 \_Wije. This is the first wise word I heard the 
 squire speak.] 
 
 Ralph. Speak what thou art, and how thou hast been 
 used, 
 That I may give him condign punishment. 
 
 Man. I am a knight that took my journey post 
 
 Northward from London ; and in courteous wise 
 This giant trained me to his loathsome den, 
 87 
 
Act in. Sc. iv. csThe Knight of the 
 
 Under pretence of killing of the itch ; 70 
 
 And all my body with a powder strewed, 
 That smarts and stings ; and cut away my beard, 
 And my curled locks wherein were ribands tied ; 
 And with a water washed my tender eyes, 
 (Whilst up and down about me still he skipt, ) 
 Whose virtue is, that, till my eyes be wiped 
 With a dry cloth, for this my foul disgrace, 
 I shall not dare to look a dog i' the face. 
 
 [Wife. Alas, poor knight! Relieve him, Ralph; 
 
 relieve poor knights, whilst you live.]] 80 
 
 Ralph. My trusty squire, convey him to the town, 
 Where he may find relief. Adieu, fair knight. 
 
 \_Exeunt Man 'with Tim, nvho presently re-enters. 
 
 Re-enter George, leading a second Man, ivith a patch 
 over his nose. 
 
 George. Puissant Knight, of the Burning Pestle hight, 
 See here another wretch, whom this foul beast 
 Hath scotched and scored in this inhuman wise. 
 
 Ralph. Speak me thy name, and eke thy place of birth, 
 And what hath been thy usage in this cave. 
 
 2nd Man. I am a knight, Sir Pockhole is my name, 
 And by my birth I am a Londoner, 
 Free by my copy, but my ancestors 90 
 
 88 
 
Burning Pestles^ Act in. Sc. iv. 
 
 Were Frenchmen all ; and riding hard this way 
 Upon a trotting horse, my bones did ache ; 
 And I, faint knight, to ease my weary limbs, 
 Light at this cave ; when straight this furious 
 
 fiend, 
 With sharpest instrument of purest steel, 
 Did cut the gristle of my nose away, 
 And in the place this velvet plaster stands : 
 Relieve me, gentle knight, out of his hands ! 
 
 [Wife. Good Ralph, relieve Sir Pockhole, and 
 
 send him away ; for in truth his breath stinks.] ioo 
 
 Ralph. Convey him straight after the other knight. 
 Sir Pockhole, fare you well. 
 
 2nd Man. Kind sir, good night. 
 
 [Exit with George, who presently re-enters. 
 
 ^rd Man [within]. Deliver us ! [Cries within. 
 
 Woman [within]. Deliver us ! 
 
 [ Wife. Hark, George, what a woeful cry there is ! 
 I think some woman lies-in there.] 
 
 $rd Man [within]* Deliver us ! 
 
 Women [within]. Deliver us! 
 
 Ralph. What ghastly noise is this ? Speak, Barba- 
 rossa, 
 Or, by this blazing steel, thy head goes off! 1 10 
 
 Bar. Prisoners of mine, whom I in diet keep. 
 
 8 9 
 
 
Act ill. Sc iv. ^s The Knight of the 
 
 . 
 
 Send lower down into the cave, 
 
 And in a tub that's heated smoking hot, 
 
 There may they find them, and deliver them. 
 
 Ralph. Run, squire and dwarf; deliver them wi 
 speed. \_Exeunt Tim and George. 
 
 \_Wife. But will not Ralph kill this giant? Surely 
 I am afraid, if he let him go, he will do as 
 much hurt as ever he did. 
 
 Cit. Not so, mouse, neither, if he could convert 
 
 him. 1 20 
 
 Wife. Ay, George, if he could convert him ; but a 
 giant is not so soon converted as one of us 
 ordinary people. There's a pretty tale of a 
 witch, that had the devil's mark about her, 
 (God bless us!) that had a giant to her son, 
 that was called Lob-lie-by-the-fire ; didst 
 never hear it, George ? 
 
 Git. Peace, Nell, here comes the prisoners.] 
 
 Re-enter Tim, leading a third Man, with a glass of lotion 
 in his hand, and George leading a Woman , with diet- 
 bread and drink in her hand. 
 
 George. Here be these pined wretches, manful knight, 
 That for this six weeks have not seen a wight. 1 30 
 
 Ralph. Deliver what you are, and how you came 
 
 90 
 
Burning Pestles^ Act in. Sc iv. 
 
 To this sad cave, and what your usage was ? 
 317/ Man. I am an errant knight that followed arms 
 With spear and shield ; and in my tender years 
 I stricken was with Cupid's fiery shaft, 
 And fell in love with this my lady dear, 
 And stole her from her friends in Turnbull-street, 
 And bore her up and down from town to town, 
 Where we did eat and drink, and music hear ; 
 Till at the length at this unhappy town 140 
 
 We did arrive, and coming to this cave, 
 This beast us caught, and put us in a tub, 
 Where we this two months sweat, and should have 
 
 done 
 Another month, if you had not relieved us. 
 
 Woman. This bread and water hath our diet been, 
 Together with a rib cut from a neck 
 Of burned mutton ; hard hath been our fare : 
 Release us from this ugly giant's snare ! 
 
 $rd Man. This hath been all the food we have 
 received ; 
 But only twice a-day, for novelty, 1 50 
 
 He gave a spoonful of this hearty broth 
 To each of us, through this same slender quill. 
 
 [Pulls out a syringe. 
 
 Ralph. From this infernal monster you shall go, 
 
 9 1 
 
Act in. Sc. iv. 2sThe Knight of the 
 
 That useth knights and gentle ladies so! 
 Convey them hence. 
 
 [$rd Man and Woman are led off by Tim and 
 George, ivho presently re-enter. 
 
 [Cit. Cony, I can tell thee, the gentlemen like Ralph. 
 
 Wife. Ay, George, I see it well enough. Gentle- 
 men, I thank you all heartily for gracing my 
 man Ralph ; and I promise you, you shall see 
 him oftener.] 160 
 
 Bar. Mercy, great knight ! I do recant my ill, 
 And henceforth never gentle blood will spill. 
 
 Ralph. I give thee mercy ; but yet shalt thou swear 
 Upon my Burning Pestle, to perform 
 Thy promise uttered. 
 
 Bar. I swear and kiss. [_Kisses the Pestle. 
 
 Ralph. Depart, then, and amend. [Exit Barber. 
 
 Come, squire and dwarf; the sun grows towards 
 
 his set, 
 And we have many more adventures yet. [Exeunt. 
 
 [Cit. Now Ralph is in this humour, I know he 
 would ha' beaten all the boys in the house, if 
 they had been set on him. 1 70 
 
 Wife. Ay, George, but it is well as it is : I warrant 
 
 you, the gentlemen do consider what it is to 
 
 overthrow a giant. J 
 
 92 
 
Burning Pestles Act in. Sc. v. 
 
 Scene V. 
 
 The Street before Merrythought* s House. 
 Enter Mistress Merrythought and Michael. 
 
 \JVife. But, look, George ; here comes Mistress 
 Merrythought, and her son Michael. Now 
 you are welcome, Mistress Merrythought ; now 
 Ralph has done, you may go on.] 
 
 Mist. Mer. Mick, my boy 
 
 Mich. Ay, forsooth, mother. 
 
 Mist. Mer. Be merry, Mick ; we are at home now ; 
 where, I warrant you, you shall find the house 
 flung out of the windows. [Music within.'} 
 Hark ! hey, dogs, hey ! this is the old world, i o 
 i'faith, with my husband. If I get in among 
 them, I'll play them such a lesson, that they 
 shall have little list to come scraping hither 
 again Why, Master Merrythought ! husband ! 
 Charles Merrythought ! 
 
 Mer. [Appearing above, and singing."] 
 
 If you will sing, and dance, and laugh, 
 And hollow, and laugh again, 
 
 I And then cry, " there, boys, there ! " why, then, 
 One, two, three, and four, 
 We shall be merry within this hour. 20 
 
Act in. Sc. v. The Knight of the 
 
 Mist. Mer. Why, Charles, do you not know your 
 own natural wife ? I say, open the door, and 
 turn me out those mangy companions ; 'tis more 
 than time that they were fellow and fellow-like 
 with you. You are a gentleman, Charles, and 
 an old man, and father of two children ; and I 
 myself, (though I say it) by my mother's side 
 niece to a worshipful gentleman and a conductor ; 
 he has been three times in his majesty's service 
 at Chester, and is now the fourth time, God 30 
 bless him and his charge, upon his journey. 
 
 Mer. [Sings.] 
 
 Go from my window, love, go ; 
 Go from my window, my dear ! 
 
 The wind and the rain 
 
 Will drive you back again ; 
 You cannot be lodged here. 
 
 Hark you, Mistress Merrythought, you that 
 walk upon adventures, and forsake your husband, 
 because he sings with never a penny in his purse ; 
 what, shall I think myself the worse ? Faith, 40 
 no, I'll be merry. You come not here ; here's 
 none but lads of mettle, lives of a hundred years 
 and upwards ; care never drunk their bloods, 
 94 
 
Burning Pestles^ Act in. Sc v. 
 
 nor want made them warble " Heigh-ho, my 
 heart is heavy." 
 
 Mist. Mer. Why, Master Merrythought, what am 
 1, that you should laugh me to scorn thus 
 abruptly ? am I not your fellow- feeler, as we 
 may say, in all our miseries ? your comforter in 
 health and sickness ? have I not brought you 50 
 children ? are they not like you, Charles ? look 
 upon thine own image, hard-hearted man ! and 
 yet for all this 
 
 Mer. [Sings*] 
 
 
 Begone, begone, my juggy, my puggy, 
 Begone, my love, my dear ! 
 
 The weather is warm, 
 
 'Twill do thee no harm : 
 Thou canst not be lodged here. 
 
 Be merry, boys ! some light music, and more 
 wine ! \_Exit above. 60 
 
 \_Wife. He's not in earnest, I hope, George, is he ? 
 
 Cit. What if he be, sweetheart ? 
 
 Wife. Marry, if he be, George, I'll make bold to 
 tell him he's an ingrant old man to use his bed- 
 fellow so scurvily. 
 
 Cit. What ! how does he use her, honey ? 
 
 95 
 
Act in. Sc. v. ^ The Knight of the 
 
 Wife. Marry, come up, sir saucebox ! I think you'll 
 take his part, will you not ? Lord, how hot 
 you have grown ! you are a fine man, an' you 
 had a fine dog ; it becomes you sweetly ! 70 
 
 Cit. Nay, prithee, Nell, chide not ; for, as I am an 
 honest man and a true Christian grocer, I do not 
 like his doings. 
 
 Wife. I cry you mercy, then, George ! you know 
 we are all frail and full of infirmities. D'ye 
 hear, Master Merrythought? may I crave a 
 word with you ? ] 
 
 Mer. [Appearing above.~] Strike up lively, lads ! 
 
 \JVife. I had not thought, in truth, Master Merry- 
 thought, that a man of your age and discretion, 
 as I may say, being a gentleman, and therefore 
 known by your gentle conditions, could have 
 used so little respect to the weakness of his 
 wife ; for your wife is your own flesh, the 
 staff of your age, your yoke - fellow, with 
 whose help you draw through the mire of 
 this transitory world ; nay, she's your own rib : 
 
 and again ~\ 
 
 Mer. [Sings .~\ 
 
 I came not hither for thee to teach, 
 
 I have no pulpit for thee to preach, 
 
 96 
 
Burning Pestle && Act in. Sc. v. 
 
 I would thou hadst kissed me under the breech, 
 As thou art a lady gay. 
 
 [Wife. Marry, with a vengeance ! I am heartily sorry 
 for the poor gentlewoman : but if I were thy 
 wife, i'faith, greybeard, i'faith 
 
 Cit. I prithee, sweet honeysuckle, be content. 
 
 Wife. Give me such words, that am a gentlewoman 
 born ! hang him, hoary rascal ! Get me some 
 drink, George; I am almost molten with 
 fretting: now, beshrew his knave's heart for ioo 
 it!] [Exit Citizen. 
 
 Mer. Play me a light lavolta. Come, be frolic. 
 Fill the good fellows wine. 
 
 Mist Mer. Why, Master Merrythought, are you 
 disposed to make me wait here ? You'll open, 
 I hope ; I'll fetch them that shall open else. 
 
 Mer. Good woman, if you will sing, I'll give you 
 something; if not 
 
 [Sings. ~\ You are no love for me, Margaret, 
 
 I am no love for you. 1 10 
 
 Come aloft, boys, aloft ! [Exit above. 
 
 Mist Mer. Now a churl's fart in your teeth, sir ! 
 Come, Mick, we'll not trouble him; 'a shall 
 g " 
 
Act in. Sc v. ^The Knight of the 
 
 not ding us i' the teeth with his bread and his 
 broth, that he shall not. Come, boy; I'll 
 provide for thee, I warrant thee. We'll go to 
 Master Venturewell's, the merchant: I'll get 
 his letter to mine host of the Bell in Waltham ; 
 there I'll place thee with the tapster : will not 
 that do well for thee, Mick ? and let me alone 120 
 for that old cuckoldly knave your father; I'll 
 use him in his kind, I warrant ye. [Exeunt. 
 
 Re-enter Citizen with Beer. 
 
 {Wife. Come, George, where's the beer ? 
 
 Cit. Here, love. 
 
 Wife. This old fornicating fellow will not out of my 
 mind yet. Gentlemen, I'll begin to you all ; 
 and I desire more of your acquaintance with 
 all my heart. [Drinks.'} Fill the gentlemen 
 some beer, George. [Enter Boy.~] Look, 
 George, the little boy's come again: methinks 130 
 he looks something like the Prince of Orange 
 in his long stocking, if he had a little harness 
 about his neck. George, I will have him 
 dance fading. Fading is a fine jig, I'll 
 assure you, gentlemen. Begin, brother. [Boy 
 dances."] Now 'a capers, sweetheart! Now a 
 98 
 
Burning Pestles Activ. Sc. i. 
 
 turn o' the toe, and then tumble ! cannot you 
 
 tumble, youth ? 
 Boy. No, indeed, forsooth. 
 
 Wife. Nor eat fire ? 1 40 
 
 Boy. Neither. 
 Wife. Why, then, I thank you heartily ; there's 
 
 twopence to buy you points withal.] 
 
 Act Fourth. 
 
 Scene I. fc*-Of~ 
 A Street. 
 Enter Jasper and Boy. 
 
 Jasp. There, boy, deliver this ; but do it well. 
 
 Hast thou provided me four lusty fellows, 
 
 [Gives a letter. 
 
 Able to carry me ? and art thou perfect 
 
 In all thy business ? 
 Boy. Sir, you need not fear ; 
 
 I have my lesson here, and cannot miss it : 
 
 The men are ready for you, and what else 
 
 Pertains to this employment. 
 Jasp. There, my boy ; 
 
 Take it, but buy no land. [Gives money. 
 
 99 
 
Act IV. Sc i. ^The Knight of the 
 
 Boy. Faith, sir, 'twere rare 
 
 To see so young a purchaser. I fly, 
 
 And on my wings carry your destiny. 10 
 
 J asp. Go, and be happy ! [Exit Boy.~\ Now, my latest 
 hope, 
 Forsake me not, but fling thy anchor out, 
 And let it hold ! Stand fixed, thou rolling stone, 
 Till I enjoy my dearest ! Hear me, all 
 You powers, that rule in men, celestial ! [Exit. 
 
 [Wife. Go thy ways; thou art as crooked a sprig 
 as ever grew in London. 1 warrant him, he'll 
 come to some naughty end or other; for his 
 looks say no less : besides, his father (you 
 know, George) is none of the best ; you heard 20 
 him take me up like a flirt-gill, and sing 
 bawdy songs upon me ; but, i'faith, if I live, 
 George, 
 
 Cit. Let me alone, sweetheart : I have a trick in 
 my head shall lodge him in the Arches for one 
 year, and make him sing peccavi ere I leave 
 him ; and yet he shall never know who hurt 
 him neither. 
 
 Wife. Do, my good George, do ! 
 
 Cit. What shall we have Ralph do now, boy ? 30 
 
 Boy. You shall have what you will, sir. 
 
 
Burning Pestles Act IV. Sc. i. 
 
 Cit. Why, so, sir ; go and fetch me him then, and 
 let the Sophy of Persia come and christen him 
 a child. 
 
 Boy. Believe me, sir, that will not do so well ; 'tis 
 stale ; it has been had before at the Red Bull. 
 
 Wife. George, let Ralph travel over great hills, and 
 let him be very weary, and come to the King 
 of Cracovia's house, covered with black velvet ; 
 and there let the king's daughter stand in her 40 
 window, all in beaten gold, combing her golden 
 locks with a comb of ivory ; and let her spy 
 Ralph, and fall in love with him, and come 
 down to him, and carry him into her father's 
 house ; and then let Ralph talk with her. 
 
 Cit. Well said, Nell ; it shall be so. Boy, let's 
 ha't done quickly. 
 
 Boy. Sir, if you will imagine all this to be done 
 already, you shall hear them talk together ; but 
 we cannot present a house covered with black 50 
 velvet, and a lady in beaten gold. 
 
 Cit. Sir boy, let's ha't as you can, then. 
 
 Boy. Besides, it will show ill-favouredly to have a 
 grocer's prentice to court a king's daughter. 
 
 Cit. Will it so, sir ? you are well read in histories ! 
 I pray you, what was Sir Dagonet ? was not he 
 
Act IV. Sc. ii. ^The Knight of the 
 
 prentice to a grocer in London ? Read the 
 play of " The Four Prentices of London," 
 where they toss their pikes so. I pray you, 
 fetch him in, sir, fetch him in. 60 
 
 Bey. It shall be done. It is not our fault, gentle- 
 men. [Ex 
 
 Wife. Now we shall see fine doings, I warrant ye, 
 George.] 
 
 Scene II. <Ju3c 
 
 A Hall in the King of Moldavia's Court. 
 Enter Pompiona, Ralph, Tim, and George. 
 
 {Wife. Oh, here they come ! how prettily the King 
 of Cracovia's daughter is dressed ! 
 
 Cit. Ay, Nell, it is the fashion of that country, I 
 warrant ye.] 
 
 Pomp. Welcome, Sir Knight, unto my father's court, 
 King of Moldavia ; unto me Pompiona, 
 His daughter dear ! But, sure, you do not like 
 Your entertainment, that will stay with us 
 No longer but a night. 
 
 Ralph. Damsel right fair, 
 
 I am on many sad adventures bound, 1 
 
 That call me forth into the wilderness ; 
 
Burning Pestle && Act IV. Sc. ii. 
 
 Besides, my horse's back is something galled, 
 Which will enforce me ride a sober pace. 
 But many thanks, fair lady, be to you 
 For using errant knight with courtesy ! 
 
 Pomp. But say, brave knight, what is your name and 
 birth I 
 
 Ralph. My name is Ralph ; I am an Englishman, 
 (As true as steel, a hearty Englishman,) 
 And prentice to a grocer in the Strand 
 By deed indent, of which I have one part : 20 
 
 But fortune calling me to follow arms, 
 On me this only order I did take 
 Of Burning Pestle, which in all men's eyes 
 I bear, confounding ladies' enemies. 
 
 Pomp. Oft have I heard of your brave countrymen, 
 And fertile soil and store of wholesome food ; 
 My father oft will tell me of a drink 
 In England found, and nipitato called, 
 Which driveth all the sorrow from your hearts. 
 
 Ralph. Ladyj 'tis true ; you need not lay your lips 30 
 To better nipitato than there is. 
 
 Pomp. And of a wild fowl he will often speak, 
 Which powdered-beef-and-mustard called is : 
 For there have been great wars 'twixt us and you ; 
 But truly, Ralph, it was not 'long of me. 
 103 
 
Act iv. Sc. ii. The Knight of the 
 
 Tell me then, Ralph, could you contented be 
 To wear a lady's favour in your shield ? 
 
 Ralph. I am a knight of a religious order, 
 And will not wear a favour of a lady 
 That trusts in Antichrist and false traditions. 40 
 
 [C//. Well said, Ralph ! convert her, if thou canst. J***sJ 
 
 Ralph. Besides, I have a lady of my own 
 
 In merry England, for whose virtuous sake 
 I took these arms ; and Susan is her name, 
 A cobbler's maid in Milk Street ; whom I vow 
 Ne'er to forsake whilst life and Pestle last. 
 
 Pomp. Happy that cobbling dame, whoe'er she be, 
 That for her own, dear Ralph, hath gotten thee ! 
 Unhappy I, that ne'er shall see the day 
 To see thee more, that bear'st my heart away ! 50 
 
 Ralph. Lady, farewell ; I needs must take my leave. 
 
 Pomp. Hard-hearted Ralph, that ladies dost deceive ! 
 
 \_Clt. Hark thee, Ralph : there's money for thee 
 [Gives money~] ; give something in the King of 
 Cracovia's house ; be not beholding to him.] 
 
 Ralph. Lady, before I go, I must remember 
 Your father's officers, who truth to tell, 
 Have been about me very diligent : 
 Hold up thy snowy hand, thou princely maid ! 
 There's twelve-pence for your father's chamberlain ; 
 104 
 
Burning Pestle s^ Act IV. Sc. iii. 
 
 And another shilling for his cook, 61 
 
 For, by my troth, the goose was roasted well ; 
 And twelve-pence for your father's horse-keeper, 
 For 'nointing my horse-back, and for his butter 
 There is another shilling ; to the maid 
 That washed my boot-hose there's an English groat 
 And two-pence to the boy that wiped my boots ; 
 And last, fair lady, there is for yourself 
 Three-pence, to buy you pins at Bumbo-fair. 
 
 Pomp. Full many thanks ; and I will keep them safe 70 
 Till all the heads be off, for thy sake, Ralph. 
 
 Ralph. Advance, my squire and dwarf! I cannot stay. 
 
 Pomp. Thou kilPst my heart in passing thus away. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 [Wife. I commend Ralph yet, that he will not stoop 
 to a Cracovian ; there's properer women in 
 London than any are there, I -wis. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 A Room in the House of Venturewell. 
 
 Enter Venturewell, Humphrey , Luce, and Boy. 
 
 [JVife. But here comes Master Humphrey and his 
 
 love again now, George. 
 Cit. Ay, cony ; peace. J 
 
 105 
 
Act IV. Sc. iii. The Knight of the 
 
 Vent. Go, get you up ; I will not be entreated ; 
 And, gossip mine, I'll keep you sure hereafter 
 From gadding out again with boys and unthrifts : 
 Come, they are women's tears ; I know your fashion. 
 Go, sirrah, lock her in, and keep the key 
 Safe as you love your life. \Exeunt Luce and Boy. 
 Now, my son Humphrey, 
 You may both rest assured of my love 10 
 
 In this, and reap your own desire. 
 
 Hum. I see this love you speak of, through your 
 daughter, 
 Although the hole be little ; and hereafter 
 Will yield the like in all I may or can, 
 Fitting a Christian and a gentleman. 
 
 Vent. I do believe you, my good son, and thank you ; 
 For 'twere an impudence to think you flattered. 
 
 Hum. It were, indeed ; but shall I tell you why ? 
 I have been beaten twice about the lie. 
 
 Vent. Well, son, no more of compliment. My daughter 
 Is yours again : appoint the time and take her ; it 
 We'll have no stealing for it ; I myself 
 And some few of our friends will see you married. 
 
 Hum. I would you would, i'faith ! for, be it known, 
 I ever was afraid to lie alone. 
 
 Vent. Some three days hence, then. 
 
 106 
 
Burning Pestles Act IV. Sc. Hi. 
 
 Hum. Three days ! let me see : 
 
 'Tis somewhat of the most ; yet I agree, 
 Because I mean against the appointed day 
 To visit all my friends in new array. 
 
 Enter Servant, 
 
 Serv. Sir, there's a gentlewoman without would speak 30 
 
 with your worship. 
 VenU What is she ? 
 Serv. Sir, I asked her not. 
 Vent. Bid her come in. \_Exit Servant. 
 
 Enter Mistress Merrythought and Michael. 
 
 Mist. Mer. Peace be to your worship ! I come as a 
 poor suitor to you, sir, in the behalf of this child. 
 
 Vent. Are you not wife to Merrythought ? 
 
 Mist. Mer. Yes, truly. Would I had ne'er seen 
 his eyes ! he has undone me and himself and his 
 children ; and there he lives at home, and sings 40 
 and hoits and revels among his drunken com- 
 panions ! but, 1 warrant you, where to get a penny 
 to put bread in his mouth he knows not : and 
 therefore, if it like your worship, I would en- 
 treat your letter to the honest host of the Bell 
 
 
 in Waltham, that I may place my child under 
 
Act IV. Sc. iii. ^The Knight of the 
 
 the protection of his tapster, in some settled 
 course of life. 
 
 Vent. I'm glad the heavens have heard my prayers. Thy 
 husband, 
 When I was ripe in sorrows, laughed at me ; 50 
 Thy son, like an unthankful wretch, I having 
 Redeemed him from his fall, and made him mine, 
 To show his love again, first stole my daughter, 
 Then wronged this gentleman, and, last of all, 
 Gave me that grief had almost brought me down 
 Unto my grave, had not a stronger hand 
 Relieved my sorrows. Go, and weep as I did, 
 And be unpitied ; for I here profess 
 An everlasting hate to all thy name. 
 
 Mist. Mer. Will you so, sir ? how say you by 60 
 that ? Come, Mick ; let him keep his wind 
 to cool his pottage. We'll go to thy nurse's, 
 Mick : she knits silk stockings, boy ; and we'll 
 knit too, boy, and be beholding to none of 
 them all. [Exit with Michael. 
 
 Enter Boy. 
 
 Boy. Sir, I take it you are the master of this house. 
 
 Vent. How then, boy ! 
 
 Boy. Then to yourself, sir, comes this letter. [Gives letter. 
 
 Vent. From whom, my pretty boy ? 
 
 10S 
 
Burning Pestle Act iv. Sc. iii. 
 
 Boy. From him that was your servant ; but no more 70 
 Shall that name ever be, for he is dead : 
 Grief of your purchased anger broke his heart. 
 I saw him die, and from his hand received 
 This paper, with a charge to bring it hither : 
 Read it, and satisfy yourself in all. 
 
 Vent. [Reads.'] Sir, that I have wronged your love 
 I must confess ; in which I have purchased 
 to myself, besides mine own undoing, the ill 
 opinion of my friends. Let not your anger, 
 good sir, outlive me, but suffer me to rest in 80 
 peace with your forgiveness : let my body (if >-"" 
 a dying man may so much prevail with you) 
 be brought to your daughter, that she may 
 truly know my hot flames are now buried, and 
 withal receive a testimony of the zeal I bore 
 her virtue. Farewell for ever, and be ever 
 happy ! Jasper. 
 
 God's hand is great in this : I do forgive him ; 
 Yet I am glad he's quiet, where I hope 
 He will not bite again. Boy, bring the body, 90 
 And let him have his will, if that be all. 
 
 Boy. 'Tis here without, sir. 
 
 Vent. So, sir ; if you please, 
 
 You j^xjconduct it in ; I do not fear it. 
 
 THpr h i ww 
 
Act iv. Sc. iv. ^The Knight of the 
 
 Hum. I'll be your usher, boy ; for, though I say it, 
 He owed me something once, and well did pay it. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 Scene IV. 
 
 Another Room in the House of Venturenvell. 
 
 Enter Luce. 
 
 Luce. If there be any punishment inflicted 
 
 Upon the miserable, more than yet I feel, 
 
 Let it together seize me, and at once 
 
 Press down my soul ! I cannot bear the pain 
 
 Of these delaying tortures. Thou that art 
 
 The end of all, and the sweet rest of all, 
 
 Come, come, oh, Death ! bring me to thy peace, 
 
 And blot out all the memory I nourish 
 
 Both of my father and my cruel friend ! 
 
 Oh, wretched maid, still living to be wretched; 10 
 
 To be a say to Fortune in her changes, 
 
 And grow to number times and woes together ! 
 
 How happy had I been, if, being born, 
 
 My grave had been my cradle ! 
 
 Enter Servant. 
 Serv. By your leave, 
 
 Young mistress ; here's a boy hath brought a coffin : 
 
Burning Pestles^ Act IV. Sc. iv. 
 
 What 'a would say, I know not ; but your father 
 Charged me to give you notice. Here they come. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Enter Boy, and two Men bearing a Coffin. \r 
 
 Luce. For me I hope 'tis come, and 'tis most welcome. 
 
 fioy. Fair mistress, let me not add greater grief 
 
 To that great store you have already. Jasper 20 
 
 (That whilst he lived was yours, now dead 
 
 And here enclosed) commanded me to bring 
 
 His body hither, and to crave a tear 
 
 From those fair eyes, (though he deserved not pity,) 
 
 To deck his funeral ; for so he bid me 
 
 Tell her for whom he died. 
 
 Luce. He shall have many. 
 
 Good friends, depart a little, whilst I take 
 My leave of this dead man, that once I loved. 
 
 [Exeunt Boy and Men. 
 Hold yet a little, life ! and then I give thee 
 To thy first heavenly being. Oh, my friend ! 30 
 Hast thou deceived me thus, and got before me ? 
 I shall not long be after. But, believe me, 
 Thou wert too cruel, Jasper, 'gainst thyself, jlu 
 
 In punishing the fault I could have pardoned, 
 With so untimely death : thou didst not wrong me, 
 
Act iv. Sc. iv. ^ The Knight of the 
 
 But ever wert most kind, most true, most loving ; 
 And I the most unkind, most false, most cruel ! 
 Didst thou but ask a tear ? I'll give thee all, 
 Even all my eyes can pour down, all my sighs, 
 And all myself, before thou goest from me : 40 
 
 These are but sparing rites ; but if thy soul 
 Be yet about this place, and can behold 
 And see what I prepare to deck thee with, 
 It shall go up, borne on the wings of peace, 
 And satisfied. First will I sing thy dirge, 
 Then kiss thy pale lips, and then die myself, 
 A nd fill one coffin and one grave together. [Sings. 
 
 Come, you whose loves are dead, 
 
 And, whiles I sing, 
 
 Weep, and wring 50 
 
 Every hand, and every head 
 Bind with cypress and sad yew ; 
 Ribands black and candles blue 
 For him that was of men most true ! 
 
 Come with heavy moaning, 
 
 And on his grave 
 
 Let him have 
 Sacrifice of sighs and groaning ; 
 Let him have fair flowers enow, 
 
Burning Pestle ^ Act iv. Sc. iv. 
 
 White and purple, green and yellow, 60 
 
 For him that was of men most true ! 
 
 Thou sable cloth, sad cover of my joys, 
 I lift thee up, and thus I meet with death. 
 
 [Removes the Cloth, and Jasper rises 
 out of the Coffin. 
 Jasp. And thus you meet the living. 
 Luce. Save me, Heaven ! 
 
 Jasp. Nay, do not fly me, fair ; I am no spirit : 
 Look better on me ; do you know me yet ? 
 Luce. Oh, thou dear shadow of my friend ! 
 Jasp. Dear substance ; 
 
 I swear I am no shadow ; feel my hand, 
 
 It is the same it was ; I am your Jasper, 
 
 Your Jasper that's yet living, and yet loving. 70 
 
 Pardon my rash attempt, my foolish proof 
 
 I put in practice of your constancy ; 
 
 For sooner should my sword have drunk my 
 
 blood, 
 And set my soul at liberty, than drawn 
 The least drop from that body : for which boldness 
 Doom me to any thing ; if death, I take it, 
 And willingly. 
 Luce. This death I'll give you for it ; [Kisses him. 
 
 h "3 
 
Act IV. Sc. iv. <The Knight of the 
 
 So, now I am satisfied you are no spirit, 
 But my own truest, truest, truest friend : 
 Why do you come thus to me ? 80 
 
 Jasp. First, to see you ; 
 
 Then to convey you hence. 
 
 Luce, It cannot be ; 
 
 For I am locked up here, and watched at all 
 
 hours, 
 That 'tis impossible for me to scape. 
 
 Jasp. Nothing more possible. Within this coffin 
 Do you convey yourself: let me alone, 
 I have the wits of twenty men about me ; 
 Only I crave the shelter of your closet 
 A little, and then fear me not. Creep in, 
 That they may presently convey you hence : 
 Fear nothing, dearest love ; I'll be your second ; 9 
 [Luce lies down in the Coffin , and Jasper 
 covers her with the cloth* 
 Lie close : so ; all goes well yet. Boy 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 Re-enter Boy and Men. 
 
 Boy. At hand, sir. 
 
 Jasp. Convey away the coffin, and be wary. 
 
 Boy* 'Tis done already. [Exeunt Men with the Coffin. 
 
 Jasp. Now must I go conjure. [Exit into a Closet. 
 
Burning Pestles Act IV. Sc. v. 
 
 Enter Venturer ell. 
 
 Vent. Boy, boy ! 
 
 Boy. Your servant, sir. 
 
 Vent. Do me this kindness, boy ; (hold, here's a crown ; ) 
 Before thou bury the body of this fellow, 
 Carry it to his old merry father, and salute him 
 From me, and bid him sing \ he hath cause. 
 
 Boy. I will, sir. 
 
 Vent. And then bring me word what tune he is in, ioo 
 And have another crown ; but do it truly. 
 I have fitted him a bargain now will vex him. 
 
 Boy. God bless your worship's health, sir ! 
 
 Vent. Farewell, boy ! \_Exeunt severally. 
 
 Scene V. 
 
 A Street before Merrythought's House. 
 
 Enter Merrythought. 
 
 \_Wife. Ah, old Merrythought, art thou there again? 
 
 let's hear some of thy songs.] 
 Mer. {Singsr\ 
 
 Who can sing a merrier note 
 
 Than he that cannot change a groat ? 
 
 Not a denier left, and yet my heart leaps : I do 
 wonder yet, as old as I am, that any man will 
 
Actlv.?Sc. v. ^The Knight of the 
 
 
 follow a trade, or serve, that may sing and laugh, 
 and walk the streets. My wife and both my 
 sons are I know not where ; I have nothing 
 left, nor know I how to come by meat to supper ; 10 
 yet am I merry still, for I know I shall find it 
 upon the table at six o'clock ; therefore, hang 
 thought ! [Sings. 
 
 I would not be a serving-man 
 
 To carry the cloak-bag still, 
 Nor would I be a falconer 
 
 The greedy hawks to fill ; 
 But I would be in a good house, 
 
 And have a good master too ; 
 But I would eat and drink of the best, 20 
 
 And no work would I do. 
 
 This it is th at keeps life and soul together, 
 mirth ; this is the philosopher's stone that they 
 write so much on, that keeps a man ever 
 young. 
 
 Enter Boy. 
 
 Boy. Sir, they say they know all your money is 
 
 gone, and they will trust you for no more drink. 
 
 Mer. Will they not ? let 'em choose ! The best is, 
 
 I have mirth at home, and need not send abroad 
 116 
 
Burning Pestles^ Act IV. Sc. v. 
 
 for that; let them keep their drink to them- 30 
 selves. [Sings. 
 
 For Julian of Berry, she dwells on a hill, 
 And she hath good beer and ale to sell, 
 And of good fellows she thinks no ill ; 
 
 And thither will we go now, now, now, 
 And thither will we go now. 
 
 And when you have made a little stay, 
 
 You need not ask what is to pay, 
 
 But kiss your hostess, and go your way ; 
 
 And thither will we go now, now, now, 40 
 
 And thither will we go now. 
 
 Enter another Boy. 
 2nd Boy. Sir, I can get no bread for supper. 
 Men Hang bread and supper ! let's preserve our 
 mirth, and we shall never feel hunger, I'll 
 warrant you. Let's have a catch, boys ; 
 follow me, come. {They sing. 
 
 Ho, ho, nobody at home ! 
 Meat, nor drink, nor money ha' we none. 
 Fill the pot, Eedy, 
 
 Never more need I. 50 
 
 Mer. So, boys ; enough. Follow me : Let's change 
 
 our place, and we shall laugh afresh. {Exeunt. 
 
Act iv. Sc. v. *ss The Knight of the 
 
 \Wife. Let him go, George; 'a shall not have any 
 countenance from us, nor a good word from 
 any i* the company, if I may strike stroke 
 in't. \k**A\\T 
 
 Cit. No more 'a sha'not, love. But, Nell, I will 
 have Ralph do a very notable matter now, to 
 the eternal honour and glory of all grocers. 
 Sirrah ! you there, boy ! Can none of you 60 
 hear ? 
 
 Enter Boy. 
 
 Boy. Sir, your pleasure ? 
 
 Cit. Let Ralph come out on May-day in the morn- 
 ing, and speak upon a conduit, with all his 
 scarfs about him, and his feathers, and his rings, 
 and his knacks. 
 
 Boy. Why, sir, you do not think of our plot ; what 
 will become of that, then ? 
 
 Cit. Why, sir, I care not what become on't : I'll 
 
 have him come out, or I'll fetch him out my- 70 
 self; I'll have something done in honour of 
 the city : besides, he hath been long enough 
 upon adventures. Bring him out quickly ; or, 
 if I come in amongst you 
 
 Boy. Well, sir, he shall come out, but if our play 
 miscarry, sir, you are like to pay for't. 
 
B, 
 
 rning Pestles Activ. Sc. v. 
 
 Cit. Bring him away then ! \Exit Boy. 
 
 Wife. This will be brave, i'faith ! George, shall 
 not he dance the morris too, for the credit of 
 the Strand? 8c 
 
 Cit. No, sweetheart, it will be too much for the boy. 
 Oh, there he is, Nell ! he's reasonable well in 
 reparel : but he has not rings enough.] 
 
 Enter Ralph, dressed as a May-lord. 
 
 Ralph. London, to thee I do present the merry month 
 
 of May ; 
 Let each true subject be content to hear me what 
 
 I say : 
 For from the top of conduit-head, as plainly may 
 
 appear, 
 I will both tell my name to you, and wherefore I 
 
 came here. 
 My name is Ralph, by due descent though not 
 
 ignoble I 
 Yet far inferior to the stock of gracious grocery ; 
 And by the common counsel of my fellows in the 
 
 Strand, 90 
 
 With gilded staff and crossed scarf, the May-lord 
 
 here I stand. 
 
 119 
 
Act iv. Sc. v. *s The Knight of the 
 
 Rejoice, oh, English hearts, rejoice ! rejoice, oh, 
 
 lovers dear ! 
 Rejoice, oh, city, town, and country ! rejoice, eke 
 
 every shere ! 
 For now the fragrant flowers do spring and sprout 
 
 in seemly sort, 
 The little birds do sit and sing, the lambs do make 
 
 fine sport ; 
 And now the birchen-tree doth bud, that makes the 
 
 schoolboy cry ; 
 The morris rings, while hobby-horse doth foot it 
 
 feateously ; 
 The lords and ladies now abroad, for their disport 
 
 and play, 
 Do kiss sometimes upon the grass, and sometimes in 
 
 the hay ; 
 Now butter with a leaf of sage is good to purge the 
 
 blood ; I oo 
 
 Fly Venus and phlebotomy, for they are neither 
 
 good; 
 Now little fish on tender stone begin to cast their 
 
 bellies, 
 And sluggish snails, that erst were mewed, do creep 
 
 out of their shellies ; 
 
turning Pestle && Activ. Sc v. 
 
 The rumbling rivers now do warm, for little boys to 
 
 paddle ; 
 The sturdy steed now goes to grass, and up they 
 
 hang his saddle ; 
 The heavy hart, the bellowing buck, the rascal, and 
 
 the pricket, 
 Are now among the yeoman's peas, and leave the 
 
 fearful thicket : 
 And be like them, oh, you, I say, of this same noble 
 
 town, 
 And lift aloft your velvet heads, and slipping off 
 
 your gown, 
 With bells on legs, and napkins clean unto your 
 
 shoulders tied, no 
 
 With scarfs and garters as you please, and " Hey for 
 
 our town ! " cried. 
 March out, and show your willing minds, by twenty 
 
 and by twenty, 
 To Hogsdon or to Newington, where ale and cakes 
 
 are plenty ; 
 And let it ne'er be said for shame, that we the 
 
 youths of London 
 Lay thrumming of our caps at home, and left our 
 
 custom undone. 
 
Actv. Sc. i. ssThe Knight of the 
 
 Up, then, I say, both young and old, both man and 
 
 maid a-maying, 
 With drums, and guns that bounce aloud, and merry 
 
 tabor playing ! 
 Which to prolong, (Sod save our king, and send his 
 
 country peace, 
 And root out treason from the land ! and so, my 
 
 friends, I cease. [Exit. 
 
 Act Fifth. 
 Scene I. 
 
 A Room in the House of Venturewell. 
 
 Enter Venturewell. 
 
 Vent. I will have no great store of company at the 
 wedding ; a couple of neighbours and their 
 wives ; and we will have a capon in stewed 
 broth, with marrow, and a good piece of beef 
 stuck with rosemary. 
 
 Enter Jasper, with his Face mealed. 
 
 Jasp. Forbear thy pains, fond man ! it is too late. 
 Vent. Heaven bless me ! Jasper ! 
 
Bur 
 
 rning Pestle Actv.Sc.L 
 
 Jasp. Ay, I am his ghost, 
 
 Whom thou hast injured for his constant love ; 
 
 Fond worldly wretch ! who dost not understand 10 
 
 In death that true hearts cannot parted be. 
 
 First know, thy daughter is quite borne away 
 
 On wings of angels, through the liquid air, * 
 
 To far out of thy reach, and never more 'J 
 
 Shalt thou behold her face : but she and I 
 
 Will in another world enjoy our loves ; 
 
 Where neither father's anger, poverty, 
 
 Nor any cross that troubles earthly men, 
 
 Shall make us sever our united hearts. 
 
 And never shalt thou sit or be alone 20 
 
 In any place, but I will visit thee 
 
 With ghastly looks, and put into thy mind 
 
 The great offences which thou didst to me : 
 
 When thou art at thy table with thy friends, 
 
 Merry in heart, and filled with swelling wine, 
 
 I'll come in midst of all thy pride and mirth, 
 
 Invisible to all men but thyself, 
 
 And whisper such a sad tale in thine ear 
 
 Shall make thee let the cup fall from thy hand, 
 
 And stand as mute and pale as death itself. 30 
 
 Vent. Forgive me, Jasper ! Oh, what might I do, 
 Tell me, to satisfy thy troubled ghost ? 
 123 
 
Actv. Sc. i. The Knight of the 
 
 J asp. There is no means ; too late thou think* st of this. 
 
 Vent. But tell me what were best for me to do ? 
 
 Jasp. Repent thy deed, and satisfy my father, 
 
 And beat fond Humphrey out of thy doors. [Exit. 
 
 [Wife. Look, George; his very ghost would have 
 folks beaten.] 
 
 Enter Humphrey. 
 
 Hum. Father, my bride is gone, fair Mistress Luce : 39 
 My soul's the fount of vengeance, mischief's sluice. 
 
 Vent. Hence, fool, out of my sight with thy fond passion ! 
 Thou hast undone me. [Beats him 
 
 Hum. Hold, my father dear, 
 
 For Luce thy daughter's sake, that had no peer ! 
 
 Vent. Thy father, fool ! there's some blows more ; be- 
 gone. [Beats hinu- 
 Jasper, I hope thy ghost be well appeased 
 To see thy will performed. Now will I go 
 To satisfy thy father for thy wrongs. [Aside and exit. 
 
 Hum. What shall I do ? I have been beaten twice, 
 
 And Mistress Luce is gone. Help me, device ! 50 
 Since my true love is gone, I never more, 
 Whilst I do live, upon the sky will pore ; 
 But in the dark will wear out my shoe-soles 
 In passion in Saint Faith's church under Paul's. 
 
 v~'CA--% v>o \ z> 1 [Exit. 
 
 "4 
 
 : 
 
B U 
 
 rning Pestles Act v. Sc. i. 
 
 Wife. George, call Ralph hither ; if you love me, 
 call Ralph hither : I have the bravest thing for 
 him to do, George ; prithee, call him quickly. 
 
 Git. Ralph ! why, Ralph, boy ! 
 
 Enter Ralph. 
 
 Ralph. Here, sir. 
 
 Cit. Come hither, Ralph ; come to thy mistress, boy. 60 
 
 Wife. Ralph, I would have thee call all the youths 
 together in battle-ray, with drums, and guns, 
 and flags, and march to Mile-End in pompous 
 fashion, and there exhort your soldiers to be 
 merry and wise, and to keep their beards from 
 burning, Ralph ; and then skirmish, and let 
 your flags fly, and cry, " Kill, kill, kill ! " 
 My husband shall lend you his jerkin, Ralph, 
 and there's a scarf; for the rest, the house shall 
 furnish you, and we'll pay for't. Do it bravely, 70 
 Ralph ; and think before whom you perform, 
 and what person you represent. 
 
 Ralph. I warrant you, mistress ; if I do it not, for 
 the honour of the city and the credit of my 
 master, let me never hope for freedom ! 
 
 Wife. 'Tis well spoken, i'faith. Go thy ways; 
 thou art a spark indeed. 
 
 "5 
 
Actv. Sc. i. The Knight of the 
 
 Cit. Ralph, Ralph, double your files bravely, 
 Ralph ! 
 
 Ralph. I warrant you, sir. \_Exit. 80 
 
 C'tt. Let him look narrowly to his service ; I shall 
 take him else. I was there myself a pikeman 
 once, in the hottest of the day, wench ; had 
 my feather shot sheer away, the fringe of my 
 pike burnt off with powder, my pate broken 
 with a scouring-stick, and yet, I thank God, 
 I am here. [Drums within. 
 
 Wife. Hark, George, the drums ! 
 
 Cit. Ran, tan, tan, tan, tan, tan ! Oh, wench, an 
 
 thou hadst but seen little Ned of Aldgate, 90 
 Drum-Ned, how he made it roar again, and 
 laid on like a tyrant, and then struck softly till 
 the ward came up, and then thundered again, 
 and together we go ! " Sa, sa, sa, bounce ! " 
 quoth the guns ; " Courage, my hearts ! M quoth 
 the captains ; " Saint George ! " quoth the 
 pikemen ; and withal, here they lay : and there 
 they lay : and yet for all this I am here, 
 wench. 
 
 Wife. Be thankful for it, George; for indeed 'tis 100 
 wonderful.] 
 
Burning Pestle ^ Actv.Scii. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 A Street [and afterwards Mile- End). 
 
 Enter Ralph and Company of Soldiers [among whom are 
 
 William Hammertoe and George Greengoose), lj 
 
 with drums and colours. 
 
 Ralph. March fair, my hearts ! Lieutenant, beat 
 the rear up. Ancient, let your colours fly ; 
 but have a great care of the butcher's hooks at 
 Whitechapel ; they have been the death of many 
 a fair ancient. Open your files, that I may take 
 a view both of your persons and munition. 
 Sergeant, call a muster. 
 
 Serg. A stand! William Hammerton, pew terer ! 
 
 Ham. Here, captain ! 
 
 Ralph. A corselet and a Spanish pike; 'tis well: 10 
 can you shake it with a terror ? 
 
 Ham. I hope 60, captain. 
 
 Ralph. Charge upon me. \_He charges on Ralph.^ 
 'Tis with the weakest : but more strength, 
 William Hammerton, more strength. As you 
 were again ! Proceed, Sergeant. 
 
 Serg. George Greengoose, poulterer! 
 
 Green. Here ! 
 
 127 "S 
 
Actv. Sc. ii. The Knight of the 
 
 Ralph, Let me see your piece, neighbour Green- 
 goose : when was she shot in ? 2 c 
 
 Green, An't like you, master captain, I made a shot 
 even now, partly to scour her, and partly for 
 audacity. 
 
 Ralph, It should seem so certainly, for her breath is 
 yet inflamed ; besides, there is a main fault in 
 the touch-hole, it runs and stinketh ; and I tell 
 you moreover, and believe it, ten such touch- 
 holes would breed the pox in the army. Get 
 you a feather, neighbour, get you a feather, 
 sweet oil, and paper, and your piece may do 3c 
 well enough yet. Where's your powder ? 
 
 Green, Here. 
 
 Ralph, What, in a paper ! as I am a soldier and a 
 gentleman, it craves a martial court ! you ought 
 to die for't. Where's your horn ? answer me 
 to that. 
 
 Green, An't like you, sir, I was oblivious. 
 
 Ralph, It likes me not you should be so ; 'tis a 
 shame for you, and a scandal to all our 
 neighbours, being a man of worth and estima- 40 
 tion, to leave your horn behind you : I am 
 afraid 'twill breed example. But let me 
 
 tell you no more on't. Stand, till I view 
 
 i 2 8 
 
Burning Pestles Act v. Sc ii. 
 
 you all. What's become o' the nose of your 
 flask ? 
 
 i st Sold. Indeed, la, captain, 'twas blown away with 
 powder. 
 
 Ralph. Put on a new one at the city's charge. 
 Where's the stone of this piece ? 
 
 2nd Sold. The drummer took it out to light tobacco. 50 
 
 Ralph. 'Tis a fault, my friend; put it in again. 
 You want a nose, and you a stone. Sergeant, 
 take a note on't, for I mean to stop it in 
 the pay. Remove, and march ! [They 1 
 march.'] Soft and fair, gentlemen, soft and 
 fair ! double your files ! as you were ! faces J 4 
 about ! Now, you with the sodden face, keep * 
 in there ! Look to your match, sirrah, it will 
 be in your fellow's flask anon. So; make a 
 crescent now ; advance your pikes ; stand and 60 
 give ear! Gentlemen, countrymen, friends, 
 and my fellow-soldiers, I have brought you 
 this day, from the shops of security and the 
 counters of content, to measure out in these 
 furious fields honour by the ell, and prowess 
 by the pound. Let it not, oh, let it not, I say, 
 be told hereafter, the noble issue of this city 
 fainted ; but bear yourselves in this fair action 
 I 129 
 
Actv. Sc ii. sThe Knight of the 
 
 like men, valiant men, and free men ! Fear 
 not the face of the enemy, nor the noise of the 70 
 guns, for, believe me, brethren, the rude rum- 
 bling of a brewer's cart is far more terrible, of 
 which you have a daily experience ; neither 
 let the stink of powder offend you, since a 
 more valiant stink is nightly with you. 
 To a resolved mind his home is everywhere : 
 I speak not this to take away 
 The hope of your return ; for you shall see 
 (I do not doubt it) and that very shortly 
 Your loving wives again and your sweet children, 80 
 Whose care doth bear you company in baskets. 
 Remember, then, whose cause you have in hand, 
 And, like a sort of true-born scavengers, 
 Scour me this famous realm of enemies. 
 I have no more to say but this : stand to your 
 tacklings, lads, and show to the world you can 
 as well brandish a sword as shake an apron. 
 Saint George, and on, my hearts ! 
 AIL Saint George, Saint George ! [Exeunt 
 
 [Wife. 'Twas well done, Ralph! I'll send thee 9< 
 a cold capon a-field and a bottle of March 
 beer ; and, it may be, come myself to see thee. 
 CiU Nell, the boy hath deceived me much ; I did 
 
Burning Pestle && Act v. Sc. iii. 
 
 not think it had been in him. He has performed 
 such a matter, wench, that, if I live, next 
 year I'll have him captain of the galley-foist, 
 or I'll want my will.] 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 A Room in Merrythought' s House. 
 
 Enter Merrythought. 
 
 Mer. Yet, I thank God, I break not a wrinkle more 
 than I had. Not a stoop, boys ? Care, live 
 with cats : I defy thee ! My heart is as sound 
 as an oak ; and though I want drink to wet 
 my whistle, I can sing ; [Sings. 
 
 Come no more there, boys, come no more there ; 
 For we shall never whilst we live come any more 
 
 tneie# ^A-IVWV. \ *%> ^4 
 
 Enter Boy, and two Men bearing a Coffin. *^ 
 Boy. God save you, sir ! 
 Mer. It's a brave boy. Canst thou sing ? 
 Boy. Yes, sir, I can sing; but 'tis not so necessary 10 
 
 at this time. 
 Mer. [Sings."] Sing we, and chant it ; 
 
 Whilst love doth grant it. 
 
Actv. Sciii. *ss The Knight of the 
 
 Boy. Sir, sir, if you knew what I have brought you, 
 you would have little list to sing. 
 
 Mer. [Sings. J Oh, the Mimon round, 
 
 Full long I have thee sought, 
 
 And now I have thee found, 
 And what hast thou here brought ? 
 
 Boy. A coffin, sir, and your dead son Jasper in it. 20 
 
 {Exit with Men. 
 Mer. Dead ! [Sings."] 
 
 Why, farewell he ! 
 Thou wast a bonny boy, 
 And I did love thee. 
 
 Enter Jasper. 
 
 J asp. Then, I pray you, sir, do so still. 
 
 Mer. Jasper's ghost ! [Sings. 
 
 Thou art welcome from Stygian lake so soon ; 
 Declare to me what wondrous things in Pluto's court 
 are done. 
 
 Jasp. By my troth, sir, I ne'er came there ; 'tis too 
 
 hot for me, sir. 30 
 
 Mer. A merry ghost, a very merry ghost ! [Sings. 
 
 And where is your true love ? Oh, where is yours ? 
 
Burning Pestle && Act v. Sc. Hi. 
 
 Jasp. Marry, look you, sir ! 
 
 [Removes the cloth, and Luce rises out of the Coffin. 
 Mer. Ah, ha ! art thou good at that, i'faith ? [Sings. 
 
 With hey, trixy, terlery-whiskin, 
 
 The world it runs on wheels : 
 When the young man's , 
 
 Up goes the maiden's heels. 
 
 Mistress Merrythought and Michael within. 
 
 Mist. Mer. \jwithin.~] What, Master Merrythought ! 
 
 will you not let's in ? what do you think shall 40 
 
 become of us ? 
 Mer. [Sings."] 
 
 What voice is that that calleth at our door ? 
 
 Mist. Mer. [within. ~\ You know me well enough ; 
 
 I am sure I have not been such a stranger to 
 
 you. 
 Mer. [Sings.^ 
 
 And some they whistled, and some they sung, 
 Hey, down, down ! 
 
 And some did loudly say, 
 Ever as the Lord Barnet's horn blew, 
 
 Away, Musgrave, away ! 50 
 
Actv. Sc. iii. JsThe Knight of the 
 
 Mist. Mer. [within.'] You will not have us starve 
 
 here, will you, Master Merrythought ? 
 Jasp. Nay, good sir, be persuaded ; she is my mother : 
 
 If her offences have been great against you, 
 
 Let your own love remember she is yours, 
 
 And so forgive her. 
 Luce. Good Master Merrythought, 
 
 Let me entreat you ; I will not be denied. 
 Mist. Mer. [within. ] Why, Master Merrythought, 
 
 will you be a vexed thing still ? 60 
 
 Mer. Woman, I take you to my love again ; but 
 
 you shall sing before you enter ; therefore 
 
 despatch your song and so come in. 
 Mist. Mer. [within.] Well, you must have your 
 
 will, when all's done. Mick, what song canst 
 
 thou sing, boy? 
 Mich, [within.] I can sing none, forsooth, but t A 
 
 Lady's Daughter, of Paris properly,' [Sings within. 
 
 It was a lady's daughter, &c. 
 
 Merrythought opens the Door ; enter Mistress 
 Merrythought and Michael. 
 
 Mer. Come, you're welcome home again. [Sings. 70 
 
 134 
 
Burning Pestle 5^ Act v. Sc. ill. 
 
 If such danger be in playing, 
 
 And jest must to earnest turn, 
 You shall go no more a-maying 
 
 Vent, [within,'] Are you within, sir ? Master 
 
 Merrythought ! 
 Jasp. It is my master's voice : good sir, go hold him 
 
 In talk, whilst we convey ourselves into 
 
 Some inward room. [Exit with Luce. 
 
 Mer. What are you ? are you merry ? 
 
 You must be very merry, if you enter. 80 
 
 Vent, [within,] I am, sir. 
 Mer. Sing, then. 
 
 Vent, [within.] Nay, good sir, open to me. 
 Mer. Sing, I say, 
 
 Or, by the merry heart, you come not in ! 
 Vent, [within.] Well, sir, I'll sing. [Sings. 
 
 Fortune, my foe, &c. 
 
 Merrythought opens the Door : Enter Venturewell. 
 
 Mer. You are welcome, sir, you are welcome : you 
 see your entertainment ; pray you, be merry. 
 
 Vent. Oh, Master Merrythought, I'm come to ask 
 you " 90 
 
 Forgiveness for the wrongs I offered you, 
 
 
Actv. Sc. iii. The Knight of the 
 
 And your most virtuous son ! they're infinite ; 
 
 Yet my contrition shall be more than they : 
 
 I do confess my hardness broke his heart, 
 
 For which just Heaven hath given me punishment 
 
 More than my age can carry ; his wandering spirit, 
 
 Nor yet at rest, pursues me every where, 
 
 Crying, " I'll haunt thee for thy cruelty ." 
 
 My daughter, she is gone, I know not how, 
 
 Taken invisible, and whether living ioo 
 
 Or in the grave, 'tis yet uncertain to me. 
 
 Oh, Master Merrythought, these are the weights 
 
 Will sink me to my grave ! forgive me, sir. 
 
 Mer. Why, sir, I do forgive you ; and be merry ; 
 And if the wag in's lifetime played the knave, 
 Can you forgive him too ? 
 
 Vent. With all my heart, sir. 
 
 Mer. Speak it again, and heartily. 
 
 Vent. I do, sir ; 
 
 Now, by my soul, I do. 1 10 
 
 Re-enter Luce and Jasper. 
 Mer. [Sings.] 
 
 With that came out his paramour ; 
 She was as white as the lily flower : 
 Hey, troul, troly, loly ! 
 136 
 
Burning Pestle && Act v. Sc. iii. 
 
 With that came out her own dear knight ; 
 He was as true as ever did fight, &c. 
 
 Sir, if you will forgive 'em, clap their hands to- 
 gether ; there's no more to be said i' the matter. 
 Vent. I do, I do. 
 [Cit. I do not like this. Peace, boys ! Hear me, 
 
 one of you: every body's part is come to an 120 
 
 end but Ralph's, and he's left out. 
 Boy. 'Tis 'long of yourself, sir ; we have nothing 
 
 to do with his part. 
 Cit. Ralph, come away ! Make an end on him, as 
 
 you have done of the rest, boys ; come. 
 Wife. Now, good husband, let him come out and 
 
 die. 
 Cit. He shall, Nell. Ralph, come away quickly, 
 
 and die, boy ! 
 Boy. 'Twill be very unfit he should die, sir, upon 130 
 
 no occasion and in a comedy too. 
 Cit. Take you no care of that, sir boy ; is not his 
 
 part at an end, think you, when he's dead ? 
 
 Come away, Ralph !]] 
 
 Enter Ralph, with a forked Arrow through his Head. 
 Ralph. When I was mortal, this my costive corps 
 Did lap up figs and raisins in the Strand ; 
 137 
 
Actv. Sc. iii. ^The Knight of the 
 
 Where sitting, I espied a lovely dame, 
 Whose master wrought with lingel and with awl, 
 And underground he vamped many a boot. 
 Straight did her love prick forth me, tender sprig, 
 To follow feats of arms in warlike wise 141 
 
 Through Waltham-desert ; where I did perform 
 Many achievements, and did lay on ground 
 Huge Barbarossa, that insulting giant, 
 And all his captives soon set at liberty. 
 Then honour pricked me from my native soil 
 Into Moldavia, where I gained the love 
 Of Pompiona, his beloved daughter ; 
 But yet proved constant to the black thumbed maid 
 Susan, and scorned Pompiona's love ; 1 50 
 
 Yet liberal I was, and gave her pins, 
 And money for her father's officers. 
 I then returned home, and thrust myself 
 In action, and by all men chosen was 
 Lord of the May, where I did flourish it, 
 With scarfs and rings, and posy in my hand. 
 After this action I preferred was, 
 And chosen city-captain at Mile- End, 
 With hat and feather, and with leading-staff, 
 And trained my men, and brought them all off clear, 
 Save one man that berayed him with the noise. 1 6 1 
 138 
 
Burning Pestle b& Act v. Sc. iii. 
 
 But all these things I Ralph did undertake 
 
 Only for my beloved Susan's sake. 
 
 Then coming home, and sitting in my shop 
 
 With apron blue, Death came into my stall 
 
 To cheapen aquavita ; but ere I 
 
 Could take the bottle down and fill a taste, 
 
 Death caught a pound of pepper in his hand, 
 
 And sprinkled all my face and body o'er 
 
 And in an instant vanished away. 170 
 
 [C/V. 'Tis a pretty fiction, i'faith.] 
 
 Ralph. Then took I up my bow and shaft in hand, 
 And walked into Moorfields to cool myself: 
 But there grim cruel Death met me again, 
 And shot this forked arrow through my head ; 
 And now I faint ; therefore be warned by me, 
 My fellows every one, of forked heads ! 
 Farewell, all you good boys in merry London ! 
 Ne'er shall we more upon Shrove-Tuesday meet, 
 And pluck down houses of iniquity ; 1 80 
 
 My pain increaseth ; I shall never more 
 Hold open, whilst another pumps both legs, 
 Nor daub a satin gown with rotten eggs ; 
 Set up a stake, oh, never more I shall ! 
 I die ! fly, fly, my soul, to Grocers' Hall ! 
 Oh, oh, oh, &c. 
 
 139 
 
Actv. Sc. Hi. The Knight of the 
 
 \Wife. Well said, Ralph ! do your obeisance to 
 the gentlemen, and go your ways : well said, 
 Ralph n \_Ralph rises, makes obeisance, and exit. 
 
 Men Methinks all we, thus kindly and unexpectedly 190 
 reconciled, should not depart without a song. 
 
 Vent. A good motion. 
 
 Mer. Strike up, then ! 
 
 Song. 
 
 Better music ne'er was known 
 
 Than a quire of hearts in one. 
 
 Let each other, that hath been 
 
 Troubled with the gall or spleen, 
 
 Learn of us to keep his brow 
 
 Smooth and plain, as ours are now : 
 
 Sing, though before the hour of dying ; 200 
 
 He shall rise, and then be crying, 
 
 " Hey, ho, 'tis nought but mirth 
 
 That ke eps the bo dy fro m thee arth ! " 
 
 \_Exeun 
 
 Cit. Come, Nell, shall we go ? the play's done. 
 
 Wife. Nay, by my faith, George, I have more 
 
 manners than so ; I'll speak to these gentlemen 
 
 first. I thank you all, gentlemen, for your 
 
 patience and countenance to Ralph, a poor 
 
Burning Pestle && Act v. Sc. iii. 
 
 fatherless child ; and if I might see you at my 
 house, it should go hard but I would have a 210 
 bottle of wine and a pipe of tobacco for you : 
 for, truly, I hope you do like the youth, but I 
 would be glad to know the truth ; I refer it to 
 your own discretions, whether you will applaud 
 him or no; for I will wink, and whilst you 
 shall do what you will. I thank you with all 
 my heart. God give you good night ! Come, 
 George. \JExeunt. 
 
 or the ' 
 
 *-0|Ar*-^r 
 
 141 
 

 Glossary. 
 
 A', on, in ; passim. 
 
 A', he ; passim. 
 
 Able, vigorous, active ; III. i. 20. 
 
 Aby, pay, atone for ; III. iv. 28. 
 
 Admirable, wonderful ; Induction, 
 
 40. 
 After- love, future love ; III. i. 65. 
 An, if; passim. 
 Ancient, ensign ; V. ii. 2. 
 Aquavits, brandy ; V. iii. 166. 
 
 Baste, beat ; II. vii. 16. 
 Bate, deduct ; III. ii. 25. 
 Battle-ray, battle-array ; V. i.62. 
 Beholding, beholden, indebted ; 
 
 III. ii. 43. 
 Beray, befoul ; II. iv. 20. 
 Beshrew me, a mild imprecation ; 
 
 Induction, 71. 
 Besides, by the side of; I. iii. 14. 
 Bezzle, squander ; I. iv. 14. 
 Birding-piece, fowling-piece; II. 
 
 ii. 15. 
 Blaze, be resplendent, III. ii. 97. 
 Blazing badge, i.e., the burning 
 
 Pestle ; III. ii. 96. 
 Blow wind in the tail of, speak 
 
 disparagingly of ; Induction, 76. 
 Bord, border, circumference; III. 
 
 ii. i2i. 
 Bounce, sound ; IV. v. 117. 
 Birchen-tree, birch-tree ; IV. v. 
 
 96. 
 Buss, kiss ; II. i. 19. 
 
 Cap, arrest ; III. ii. 40. 
 
 Carduus benedictus, the Blessed 
 
 Thistle ; III. iii. 30. 
 Care, watchful regard ; I. i. 35. 
 Cark, care ; I. iv. 51. 
 Cast their caps at him, salute 
 
 him as a superior ; II. iii, 39. 
 Cast their bellies, spawn; IV. 
 
 v. 102. 
 Challenge the wall of, claim 
 
 seniority over ; Dedication. 
 Chive, see foul chive. 
 Chuse, choose ; II. iii. 16. 
 Clap in, strike in, lay siege to ; I. 
 
 ii. 34. 
 Cloth, the drop-scene ; II. viii. 117. 
 Come aloft, tumble about ; III. 
 
 v. III. 
 
 Comfortable, comforting; II. vi. 
 21. 
 
 Commons, common people; Induc- 
 tion, 30. 
 
 Conditions, qualities ; III. v. 82. 
 
 Contain, restrain ; I. ii. 26. 
 
 Cony, a term of endearment; Induc- 
 tion, 47. 
 
 Copy, tenure, charter ; III. iv. 90. 
 
 Cordial, reviving the spirits; II. 
 
 * 59- 
 Corps, living body ; V. iii. 135. 
 Couraging, courageous, heroic ; 
 
 Induction, 82. 
 Cross, thwart ; I. iv. 115. 
 Comfrey, a healing plant ; II. iv. 
 
 32. 
 
 Deliver, state ; III. iv. 131. 
 
 i43 
 
Glossary. 
 
 *g The Knight of the 
 
 Denier, an old French coin, the 
 twelfth part of a halfpenny ; IV. 
 v. 5- 
 
 Devoir, duty, service ; II. iii. 6. 
 
 Distempered, disordered, wild ; 
 III. i. 75. 
 
 Do his lesson, teach him; II. iv. 
 
 43- , , 
 
 Dragon's water, dragon's blood, a 
 
 red vegetable dye ; I. iii. 55. 
 Drum, drummer-boy ; V. i. 91. 
 
 Eke, also ; III. iv. 76. 
 Emperal, emperor ; II. iii. 2. 
 Entertain, entertainment ; II. vi. 
 
 Ettins, giants; I. ii. 31. 
 
 Even, especially, precisely ; I. i. n. 
 
 Factor, agent ; I. i. 15. 
 
 Fatal sisters, the Fates; II. i. 
 
 3*. 
 
 Fear, frighten ; Induction, 85. 
 Fear me not, fear not for me ; IV. 
 
 iv. 88 ; I. i. 48. 
 Feateously, nimbly; IV. v. 97. 
 Fegaries, vagaries, whimsical 
 
 freaks ; II. iv. 47. 
 Fire-drake, fiery dragon; II. v. 
 
 48. 
 Flappet, strip ; I. iii. 53. 
 Flirt-gill, flirt, loose woman; gill 
 
 =Gillian = Juliana ; IV. i. 21. 
 Fond, foolish ; III. iv. 10. 
 For and, together with; II. iii. 
 
 Foul chive him, evil come to him ; 
 
 I. iv. 104. 
 Frolic, frolicsome; III. v. 102. 
 
 Galley-foist, Lord Mayor's barge ; 
 
 V. ii. 96. 
 Gallows, gallows-bird ; I. iv. 91. 
 Gaskins, breeches; II. ii. 39. 
 Gent, gentle ; III. ii. 1x2. 
 
 Gentle, noble, nobly born; I. ii 
 
 10. 
 Girds, jeers, witticisms ; Induction 
 
 8. 
 Give, tell ; Induction, 123. 
 Goodman, gaffer, familiar form o 
 
 address ; Induction, 4. 
 Goods, virtues, gifts ; III. i. 69. 
 Gossip, girl ; IV. iii. 5. 
 Grimly, grim; II. viii. 5. 
 Groutnol, blockhead; II. vi. 54. 
 
 Halter-sack, gallows-bird ; I. iv 
 
 36. 
 Harness, armour ; II. v. 35. 
 Hearty, strengthening; III. iv 
 
 151- 
 Hobby-horse, one of the dancer 
 
 in the old morris - dance, repre 
 
 sented by the figure of a hors 
 
 fastened round the waist of a mai 
 
 (Keltie) ; IV. v. 97. 
 Hoit, revel ; IV. iii. 41. 
 Hold, wager ; II. ii. 144. 
 Huffing, swaggering ; Ituhtctiot 
 
 89. 
 
 Idle, vain, useless ; I. ii. 2. 
 Indent, agreed upon, contracted 
 
 IV. ii. 20. 
 Ingrant, ingrate, ungrateful ; III 
 
 v. 64. 
 I-wis, in truth ; II. iv. 46. 
 
 Jacks, worthless fellows ; Indui 
 
 Hon, 19. 
 Joy, enjoy ; I. ii. 116. 
 Juggy, a familiar term of er 
 
 dearment, perhaps diminutive < 
 
 Joan ; III. v. 54. 
 
 Kickshaws, trifling dishes ; To th 
 Readers. 
 
 Kind, nature; "use him with h | 
 kind," meet him with his ow j 
 weapons; III. v. 122; "in the 
 
 M4 
 
Glossary. 
 
 kind," according to their char- 
 acter ; Induction, 108. 
 nacks, knick-knacks, trumpery; 
 IV v. 66. 
 
 not-grass, a weed supposed to 
 hinder growth ; II. ifa 39- 
 
 a.me, defective, poor ; I. i. 32. 
 A.VOLTA, a whirling dance for two 
 persons ; III. v. 102. 
 ay, wager ; II. vn. 22. 
 ets, hindrances ; I. n. 2. 
 Iiberally, freely ; 1. 1. 16. 
 ight, alight; III. iv. 94- 
 ight upon, come upon, discover , 
 
 III. ii. 7 6 . , . j \t ::: 
 ingel, shoemaker's thread; V. lit. 
 
 ist,' pleasure, desire; I. "i- *3 
 j0 ngof, along of, on account ot ; 
 
 ,ungies, lout, lubber; II. vi. 4- 
 
 Ianful, manly; III. iv. 154. 
 
 I artial-court, court-martial , v. 
 
 I aw, stomach, inclination; Ii ii- 
 
 -Iewed, shut up, enclosed ; IV. iv. 
 
 Fickle, much, greatly; II. i v. 16. 
 Miscarry, come to grief; II. v. 4- 
 vIislike, disapproval ; Prologue. 
 vIithridalum, an antidote against 
 I poisons; I. Hi. 54- l( TIT 
 
 \1ittimus, warrant for arrest , 111. 
 
 .IorIIs, a rustic dance of Moorish 
 origin ; IV. v. 97- .. 
 
 Mouse, a term of endearment , t. u. 
 20. 
 
 New-cast, to form anew ; I. i- 4. 
 Mice, fastidious ; To the Readers. 
 Sipitato, strong ale ; IV. 11. 2b. 
 Noble Science, fencing ; II. fa 55- 
 
 k 
 
 Noddy, simpleton, fool ; II. iv-*3- 
 Notably, excellently; Induc- 
 tion^ 29. . ,. . 
 Nump, blockhead ; II. iv. 30. 
 
 On, of; Il.viii. 16. 
 
 Only, merely, nothing but, ab- 
 solutely ; III. i. 54- 
 
 Origanum, marjoram, an aromatic 
 herb; Prologue. .., 
 
 Or ere, ere, before ; I. in- 
 
 Open his pipes, cause him to speak , 
 I. i. 76. 
 
 Passion, sorrow ; V. i. 54- . 
 Peppernel, a swelling ; II. w. 54- 
 Perts-up, erects ; I. n : 23. 
 Pined, tortured; III..!* "9- .. 
 Pitch-field, field of battle ; 11- " 
 
 10. _ ... 
 
 Plainly, honestly ; III. 111. 25. 
 Points, tagged laces for holding up 
 
 breeches Till. v. 143. . _ 
 Pompous, magnificent; V. u*& 
 Posy, motto inscribed in a ring , v . 
 
 iii. 156. ,. . . 
 
 Presence, personality ; 1. 1. 32. 
 Present, immediate; I- jy. 150- 
 Presently, forthwith ; IV. iv. 89. 
 Prest, ready; II. iii. 8 - 
 Prick, incite ; III. a- jo. 
 Prick ant, spurring, riding, II. v. 
 
 Pricket, a buck in its second year ; 
 
 IV. v. 107. ... 
 
 Pricking, riding; I. in. 95- 
 Private, secret ; I. fa 29. 
 Private taxes, reproaches cast 
 
 upon individuals ; Induction, 143- 
 Proper, handsome ; IV. 11. 75; 
 Prosper, bring prosperity to , m. 
 
 Purchased, assumed, acquired; 
 IV. iii. 7 2 - 
 
 Quandary, perplexity ; I. ii. 102. 
 
 i45 
 
Glossary. 
 
 ^ Burning Pest 
 
 Quelled, slain ; III. ii. 100. 
 
 Rascal, a lean deer ; IV. v. 106. 
 
 Rebeck, a three-stringed fiddle ; I. 
 iv. 157. 
 
 Relief, assistance ; I. 11. 89. 
 
 Reparel, apparel; Induction, 75. 
 
 Ride the wild mare, play at see- 
 saw ; I. iv. 162. 
 
 Riff-raff, twaddle, trash ; I. iv 
 169. 
 
 Right, true ; I. iv. 5. 
 
 Sad, earnest, serious ; III. ii. 83. 
 Say, subject for experiments; IV. 
 
 iv. 11. 
 Scotch, cut, hack ; III. iy. 85. 
 Sculler, boatman ; II. vi. 27. 
 Second, helper ; IV. iv. 90. 
 Set, setting; III. iv. 167. 
 Shawms, a wind-instrument, similar 
 
 in form to the hautboy or clarionet ; 
 
 Induction, 121. 
 Shere, shire ; IV. v. 93. 
 Shrewdly, badly; II. vi. 3. 
 Shutting, close ; II. i. 16. 
 Slick, fatten ; II. vi. 50. 
 Smoke, suffer; I. ii. 135. 
 Snatch, sc. of food ; II. iv. 16. 
 Snick up, hang; II. ii. 19. 
 Sodden, heavy, stupid ; V. ii. 57. 
 Sophy, Shah of Persia ; IV. i. 33. 
 Sorrel, a red horse ; II. i. 27. 
 Sort, band ; V. ii. 83. 
 Spaniels, Spanish; II. ii. 11. 
 Speed, good fortune ; I. i. 44. 
 Sprig, shoot, youngster ; IV. i. 16. 
 Springald, youngster ; II. v. 47. 
 Staples, markets ; I. i. 6. 
 Stay, wait for ; III. i. in. 
 Still, ever, always ; Induction, 8. 
 Stone, flint; V. ii. 49. 
 Stoop, a drinking-vessel ; V. iii. 2. 
 Strike stroke, have one's say; 
 
 IV. v. 55. 
 Stringer, rake ; I. ii. 36. 
 Study for, devise ; Induction, 19. 
 
 I Sufficient, reliable; II. ii. 114. 
 Swaddle, swathe, beat ; II. vii. 
 Sweeting, darling ; I. iv. 129. 
 Swinge, beat; II. iv. 60. 
 
 Tacklings, gear, weapons ; V. 
 
 86. 
 Take it, give way, acquiesce ; I 
 
 i. 23, cf. Hamlet, II. ii. 
 Take the peace on him, appea 
 
 conciliate him ; II. iv. 56. 
 Taxes, accusations ; Induction, 1 
 Thrum, to finger ; IV. v. 115. 
 Tiller, cross-bow ; I. ii. 59. 
 Timber for timber, man for m? 
 
 II. iii. 42. 
 
 Took, had effect ; III. i. 51. 
 Trained, wiled, allured; III. 
 
 69. 
 Tree, wood ; I. ii. 123. 
 Troul, pass round ; II. viii. 15. 
 
 Unhappy, wicked ; II. ii. 93. 
 Unth rifts, wasters, spendthrif 
 
 IV. iii. 6. 
 Untimely, before the right tin 
 
 III. i. 83. 
 
 Vale, farewell ; Prologue. 
 Valiant, powerful ; V. ii. 75. 
 Vamped, patched; V. iii. 139. 
 Visited, sc. with the plague ; I. 
 55- 
 
 Wanion (with a), with a vengeam 
 
 II. ii. 112. 
 Want, fail in ; V. ii. 97. 
 Ward, guard ; V. i. 85. 
 Wastethrift, spendthrift; I. iv. 
 Whilst, meanwhile ; V, iii. 31. 
 Whipt, brocaded ; I. ii. 78. 
 White, innocent ; II. ii. 17. 
 Whoreson, rascally ; III. iii. 16. 
 Won, dwell; III. if. 106. 
 
 Ycleped, called ; III. ii. 107. 
 
 1 \(j 
 
Notes. 
 
 i Dedication : Master Robert Keysar. This dedication occurs only 
 ti the first 4to of 1 613. It gives us no definite clue to the author- 
 hip of the play, for it speaks in the one case of its ' parents/ in 
 he other of its 'father.' The 'foster-father* and 'nurse' 
 Inferred to are doubtless Keysar and the publisher Burre. 
 
 Don Quixote. The first part of Cervantes' great romance 
 ppeared in 1605. What is alluded to here, however, is not the 
 panish original, but the English translation by John Shelton, 
 lublished in 161 2. 
 
 To the Readers of this Comedy. This Address, like the Prologue 
 irhich follows, appears in all the early editions, except the first 
 P to. 
 
 The Author had no intent to ivrong any one in this Comedy. This 
 tatement, when taken in connection with several others of a 
 imilar character, points to the fact that ' the privy mark of 
 rony ' stamped upon the drama had given offence at the time of 
 ts first production. In all probability the offended persons were 
 be found among the class of London citizens and apprentices. 
 
 Prologue. The Prologue, as Dyce pointed out, is borrowed 
 Hrectly from Lyly's Court Comedy, Sapho and Phao (1584). 
 The reference at the end to the impersonal character of the 
 satire is the only part of the Prologue which is not found in 
 Lyly. The euphuistic style is apparent throughout. 
 
 Induction : The London Merchant. A drama by Ford, never 
 147 
 
Notes. The : KnJght of thi 
 
 printed. The MS. was one of those destroyed by Warburton 
 cook. 
 
 The Legend of Whittington. Entered on the Stationers' Book 
 February 8th, 1604, but never printed. Author unknown. 
 
 The Life and Death of Sir Thomas Gresham. The play referre 
 to is the Second Part of Heywood's If you knoiv not me you knoy 
 nobody, with the building of the Royall Exchange, and the famous victor 
 of Queen Elizabeth, Anno 1588. Printed in 1606. 
 
 The Story of Queen Eleanor. The play in question is Peele 
 Famous Chronicle of King Edward the First. Dyce explains th 
 addition, ivith the rearing of London Bridge upon woolsacks, as I 
 added jest, and regards in the same light the play which follows 
 The Life and Death of fat Drake. 
 
 Kill a lion with a pestle. Dyce points to Heywood's Fo* 
 Prentices of London : " Since first I bore this shield, I quarter'd i 
 with this Red Lion, whom 1 singly once slew in the forest." 
 
 Jane Shore. A drama no longer extant ; but referred to b 
 Henslowe. It is possible, however, that Heywood's Edward IP 
 is meant. 
 
 The Bold Beauchamps. Another lost drama, probably by He) 
 wood ; referred to in the spurious Second Part of Hudibras (1663 
 
 By heaven, methinks. . . . This speech is copied almost verbatii 
 from that of Hotspur in 1 Henry If., Act I. sc. iii. 
 
 Mucedorus. The hero of an early Elizabethan drama, entitlec 
 A most pleasant Comedie of JMucedorus, the King J s sonne of Valentit 
 First printed in 1598; reprinted 1606. 
 
 Jeronimo. A second title to ' sporting Kyd's ' great dram? 
 The Spanish Tragedy, first printed in 1599. 
 
 What stately music have you? Dance music with dancing wa 
 introduced between the several acts. See the end of Act I. 
 
 148 
 
Burning Pestle 5^ Notes. 
 
 - 
 
 I. i. 29. She's private to herself. . . She is her own mistress, 
 and knows best, etc. 
 
 I. ii. 25. Master Monaster's scholars. Richard Mulcaster was 
 the first head master of the Merchant Taylors' School. He held 
 the post from 1561 to 1586. 
 
 I. ii. 70. Watch of Midsummer-day at night. This was * an 
 annual military muster* of the citizens of London, led by the 
 great trade-companies. 
 
 I. ii. 79. Shoot from your eye. The early editions read 'sute.' 
 
 I. ii. 81. F S. Is this the tradesman's secret mark to denote 
 the price ? 
 
 I. ii. 113. Yet take me tvith you. But hear me to the end. 
 
 I. iii. 6. Palmerin of England, This formed the sequel to the 
 famous Spanish romance of Luis Hurtado, entitled Palmerin d'Oliva^ 
 which gained so wide a fame throughout Christendom. Both 
 Palmerin d'Oliva and Palmerin of England were translated into 
 English by Anthony Munday, the former in 1588, the latter in 
 1596. Ralph's quotation is from Palmerin d'Oliva and not from 
 Palmerin of England. 
 
 I. iii. 25. Prince of Portigo . . . Rosicleer. Characters in a 
 romance of Spanish origin entitled Espeio de Caballerias, and trans- 
 lated into English in 1579 under the title, The Mirrour of Princely 
 deedes and Knighthood. 
 
 I. iii. 31. The giants and the ettins ivill come and snatch it azvay. 
 We may compare with this the behaviour of the invisible 
 Faustus at the feast of the Pope; Marlowe's Doctor Faustus, 
 Sc. vii. 
 
 I. iii. 72. Shall be portrayed a Burning Pestle. Eustace in 
 Hey wood's Four Prentices bears the grocers' arms upon his 
 shield. 
 
 149 
 
Notes. 2gsThe Knight of the 
 
 I. iv. 9. A merry heart lives long-a. The song of Autolycus 
 in 3Tb Winter's Tale. 
 
 I. iv. 48. Nose, nose, jolly red nose. Taken from a song in 
 Raven scroft's Deuteromelia, 1609. 
 
 I. iv. 69. At eleven and six o'clock. Dinner and supper time. 
 
 I. iv. 128. But yet, or ere you part, A variation of a song in 
 Dowland's collection of Songs and Airs, published in 1597. 
 
 II. ii. 10. Mile- End . . . pitchfield. A reference to some mock- 
 fight which took place at Mile-End in the East of London ; cf. 
 the ballad entitled The Landing of the Spaniards at Bow, with 
 the Bloody Battle of Mile -End, cited in Beaumont and Fletcher's 
 Monsieur Thomas (III. Hi.). 
 
 II. iii. 2 As he were an tmperal. First 4to reads 'an.' 
 
 II. iv. 35. John Dory. A popular song contained in Ravens- 
 croft's Deuteromelia, 1609. 
 
 II. v. 35. With that he stood upriglu, etc. Doubtless a quotation 
 from some extravagant romance of chivalry. 
 
 II. vi. 15. You fair squire. This is the reading of the first 
 4to ; later editions read < your.' 
 
 II. vi. 44. Where never footman, etc. An allusion to the practice 
 of greasing the legs of footmen. 
 
 II. vi. 46. Bight Chamberlino. All the early editions read 
 ' high.' 
 
 II. vi. 52. And never grease their teeth. A trick adopted to 
 prevent the horses eating too much. 
 
 II. viii. 3. When it -was groivn. From the ballad of Fair 
 Margaret and Siveet William, contained in Percy's Reliques. 
 
 II. viii. 11. I airs three merry men. Doubtless an old ballad, 
 familiar to Shakespeare; cf. "Three merry men be we" in 
 Twelfth Night, II. iii. 
 
Burning Pestle ^ Notes. 
 
 II. viii. 15. Troul the black bowl. From Ravenscroft's Pam- 
 melia, a musical miscellany, published in 1609. 
 
 II. viii. 53. As you came from Walsingham. A ballad in Percy's 
 Reliques. 
 
 II. viii. 64. He set her on a milk~ivhitc steed. A narration of the 
 ballad entitled The Douglas Tragedy, included in the Minstrelsy of 
 the Scottish Border. A similar stanza is found in the ballad The 
 Knight and Shepherd' } s Daughter (Percy's Reliques). 
 
 II. viii. 75. Down, dotun they fall. Taken from an unprinted 
 Masque, presented on Candlemas-night at Cole-Overton. 
 
 II. viii. 96. Was never man for lady J s sake. A variation of the 
 ballad entitled The Legend of Sir Guy (Percy's Reliques). 
 
 II. viii. 113. Baloo. The reference is to the song, Lady Anne 
 BotkweWs Lamentation (Percy's Reliques), where the following 
 couplet serves as a refrain : 
 
 " Balow, my babe, be stil and sleipe ! 
 It grieves me sair to see thee weepe." 
 
 II. viii. 1 14. Lachrymae. A tune composed by the Elizabethan 
 musician, Dowland. 
 
 II. viii. 122. A Tartarian. 'Tartarian' was a cant term for 
 thief. 
 
 III. i. 29. Tell me, dearest. This song, with a third stanza 
 added, reappears in The Captain (II. ii.) 
 
 III. i. 1 10. Sir Bevis. Bevis of Hampton is the title of a famous 
 English medieval romance. 
 
 III. ii. 131. Rosicleer. See Note to I. iii. 
 
 III. ii. 133. P aimer in Frannarco. Characters in Palmerin d'Oliva. 
 See Note to I. iii. 
 
 III. ii. 145. The great Dutchman. Probably one of the two 
 151 
 
Notes. <^ The Knight of the 
 
 gigantic Dutchmen referred to by Stow in his Annals, p. 694, 
 ed. 1615. 
 
 III. ii. 156. Ninivie. The puppet-show of Ninivie, a popular 
 exhibition. 
 
 III. ii. 157. Jone and the Wall. Jonah and the Whale. 
 
 III. iv. 5. Behold that string. The barber at this period did 
 the work of barber, surgeon, and dentist. The stringing together 
 of the extracted teeth was a common practice, and served as an 
 advertisement. 
 
 III. iv. 32. Gargantua. The hero of Rabelais' romance. 
 
 III. iv. 113. A tub that's heated. A form of cure for the venereal 
 disease. 
 
 III. iv. 137. Turnbull Street. A London street of very ill 
 repute. 
 
 III. v. 32. Go from the tvindoiv. Taken from a popular song, 
 and again quoted in Monsieur Thomas (III. iii.). The fragment 
 Begone, begone, etc., which follows, is also from the same song. 
 
 III. v. 1 34. Fading is a fine jig. A dance which took its name 
 from the burden of an Irish song. Cf. Jonson's Irish Masque at 
 Court : " and daunsh a fading at te vedding." 
 
 IV. i. 33. Sophy of Persia. The reference is to a play by Day, 
 Rowley, and Wilkins, entitled The Travailes of the three English 
 Brothers, Sir TJiomas, Sir Anthony, Mr Robert Shirley (1607). In 
 this play Mr Robert Shirley marries the Sophy's daughter, and 
 the Sophy stands as godfather at the christening. 
 
 IV. i. 36. Red Bull. A play-house in St John's Street. 
 
 IV. i. 37. George, let Ralph, etc. The citizen's wife has in 
 mind, doubtless, one of the extravagantly romantic plays of the 
 school of Hey wood. 
 
 IV. i. 56. Sir Dagonet. This is not, as the grocer blunderingly 
 152 
 
Burning Pestle 3* Notes. 
 
 supposes, a character in Heywood's Four Prentices, but one of the 
 heroes of Malory's Morte a* Arthur, 
 
 IV. ii. 6. King of Moldavia. Jonson refers to The Prince of 
 Moldavia in his Silent Woman (V. i.). Moldavia is a province in 
 northern Roumania. 
 
 IV. iii. Si. Pottage. First /j.to, and one of the 4to's of 1635, 
 read ' porrage. ' In the speech of George in II. vi. all read 
 * pottage/ 
 
 IV. v. 3. Who can sing a merrier note. This is taken from 
 Ravenscroft's Pammelia, 1609, the song being entitled A Round or 
 Catch for ten or eleven voices. 
 
 IV. v. 47. Ho, ho, nobody at Home. From Ravenscroft's 
 Pammelia, 
 
 IV. v. 63. May-day. Cf. The Four Prentices : 
 
 " He will not let me see a mustering, 
 Nor in a May-day morning fetch in May." 
 
 For May-day customs, see Brand's Popular Antiquities, 
 IV. v. 89. Stock. The old editions read ' flocke.' 
 IV. v. 103. Mewed. Old editions read mute ; altered to moved 
 
 by Sympson. 
 
 IV. v. no. With bells on legs and napkins clean, etc. This was 
 the dress of the morris-dancers. 
 
 V. i. 63. Mile-End. The military training-ground for London 
 citizens. 
 
 V. iii. 1 2. Sing tue and chant it. Taken from the fourth song 
 in Morley's First Booke of Ballets, 1 600. 
 
 V. iii. 46. And some they ivhistled. From the ballad of Little 
 Musgrave and Lady Barnard (Percy's Reliques). 
 
 V. iii. 69. It ivas a lady's daughter. From Evans' Old Ballads. 
 I 153 
 
Notes. Burning Pestle 
 
 V. iii. 86. Fortune, my foe. An old ballad to which reference 
 is again made in The Custom of the Country. 
 
 V. iii. 135. When I ivas mortal. This speech of Ralph's is 
 parody on that of the ghost of Andrea in Kyd's Spanish Trage, , 
 
 beginning : 
 
 11 When this eternal substance of my soul 
 Did live imprison' d in my wanton flesh." 
 
 V. iii. 179. Shrove-Tuesday. In Dekker's Seven Deadly Sinnes of 
 London, 1606, we read: "They presently (like Prentices upon 
 Shrove-Tuesday) take the lawe into their owne handes, and doe 
 what they list." 
 
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