LIBRAI^Y 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 CAUFOROMA 
 
 SAN DIgQ© 
 
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 J
 
 L^i-.JSITY OF CALIFORNIA, SAN DIEOi 
 tA JOLU. CALIFORNIA 
 
 (■,i!
 
 hTHE TEMPLE T>RJMJTISTS 
 THE MERRY DEVIL OF EDMONTON
 
 The text here adopted is founded upon that of 
 
 Warnke and Proescholdt's edition ; but the spelling 
 
 has been modernised, and in some cases I 
 
 have departed from their readings.
 
 THE 
 
 MERRY DEVIL 
 
 OF EDMONTON 
 
 A COMEDY 
 
 * Edited with a Preface, Notes 
 and Glossary ly 
 HUGH WALKER, M.A. 
 
 J. M. DENT AND CO. 
 
 ALDINE HOUSE : LONDON 
 1897 
 
 yy 
 
 ^^^^m^mm^^
 
 PREFACE 
 
 Editions of the Play. The first edition now known of The 
 Merry Devil of Edmonton was published in 1608 ; and as the 
 play was only entered at Stationers' Hall in October of the 
 previous year, we may reasonably infer that it had not before 
 been printed. Other editions followed in 161 2, 161 7, 1626, 
 1631, and 1655. It was included in Dodsley's Old Plays, and 
 has been reprinted in the subsequent editions of that col- 
 lection. It also appeared in Miller's Ancient British Drama 
 (1810). But by far the most scholarly and complete of modern 
 editions is that of Warnke and Proescholdt (Halle, 1884), to 
 whom I am largely indebted. Their edition is exhaustive as to 
 the variations of the text and almost equally good on the biblio- 
 graphical side of the introduction. The notes are less full. 
 
 Date of Composition. The first known reference to the 
 play is contained in the Blacke Book by T. M., 1604. This 
 T. M., who is supposed to have been Thomas Middleton, 
 quotes the title, and alludes to the comedy as an amusing one • 
 ' Give him leave to see The Merry Devil of Edmonton, 01 
 A Woman KilVd with Kindness.^ There is no specific internal 
 evidence, for the storming of St Quentin's, alluded to in i. n. 
 24, is too early to be the basis of an argument. Tieck assigned 
 it to the year 1600 because he believed it to be by Shakespeare, 
 and thought that among Shakespeare's plays the one which had 
 most in common with it was The Merry Wives of Windsor. 
 
 V
 
 PREFACE The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 The conjecture falls with the reason upon which it is founded, 
 and few would now maintain the Shakespearian authorship of 
 The Merry Devil of Edmo7iton. All that it seems possible to 
 say is that it must have been written, at latest, soon after the 
 year i6oo, and that from style and tone and structure it may 
 with greater probability be referred to an unknown date before, 
 but not very long before, that year. 
 
 Authorship. The Merry Devil of Edmotifoi is an anonym- 
 ous play, and there is no evidence of weight sufficient to 
 enable us to decide between the various assertions and sug- 
 gestions which have been made as to the authorship. Kirkman, 
 the bookseller, ascribed it to no less a person than William 
 Shakespeare, but Kirkman's sole authority was a volume, origin- 
 ally in the library of King Charles II., and afterwards in the 
 Garrick Collection, containing Mucedortis, The Merry Devil oj 
 Edmonton^ and Fair Eni, and lettered with the name of Shake- 
 speare. Mucedoj'us and Fair Em have nevertheless been refused 
 by the critics a place among the works of Shakespeare, and strong 
 internal evidence would be needed to obtain another verdict in 
 the case of The Merry Devil of Edmonton. Such evidence 
 cannot be found. There are indeed traces of the influence of 
 Shakespeare ; but pleasant as The Merry Devil of Edmonton is, 
 it does not seem probable that Smug and the Host and Sir 
 John are the work of the hand that fashioned Falstaff and his 
 group. There are comic possibilities in these characters that 
 Shakespeare would almost certainly have made more of; and, as 
 Charles Knight has suggested, it is not probable that he would 
 have gone so near to duplicating his own characters as he would 
 have done on the supposition that he created both the Host 
 vi
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton preface 
 
 in the present play and the Host in 71u Merry Wives of 
 Windsor. Moreover, we may apply to the present case Lamb's 
 remarks on the difference between Heywood and Shakespeare : 
 ' We miss the poet, that which in Shakespeare always appears 
 out and above the surface oi the natzvx.'* The characters 'are 
 exactly what we see, but of the best kind of what we see in 
 life. Shakespeare makes us believe, while we are among his 
 lovely creations, that they are nothing but what we are familiar 
 with, as in dreams new things seem old ; but we awake, and 
 sigh for the difference.' 
 
 Michael Drayton has also been named as the author of The 
 Merry Devil of Edmofitoit, but there is no evidence beyond the 
 statements of Thomas Coxeter, an untrustworthy authority, who 
 says that he had seen an old MS. inscribed, 'by Michael Drayton'; 
 and William Oldys, who merely remarks that ' it has been said ' 
 that Drayton wrote it. 
 
 After Drayton we have nothing but bare conjecture. Hazlitt 
 thought it was more likely to be by Thomas Heywood than by 
 any other writer ; but though it bears a general resemblance to 
 the spirit and tone of Heywood, it would be rash in the extreme 
 to ascribe the play to him without more definite reasons than 
 have ever yet been adduced. 
 
 Source of the Play. 'This drama,' says Hazlitt in his 
 Introduction in Dodsley's Old English Flays, ' was suggested 
 by, rather than founded on, the traditional account handed 
 down in print of Peter Fabel, popularly known as the " Merry 
 Devil of Edmonton." ' This is strictly accurate. Fabell in his 
 character of magician has really no vital connection with the 
 development of the play, and the denotiejnent could easily have 
 vii
 
 PREFACE The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 been brought about without his agency. Indeed, though he 
 promises to raise spirits and to produce iUusion, it would appear 
 that the mistakes all take place through ordinary causes. The 
 object of introducing him was doubtless to win the advantage 
 of the popularity attaching to his name ; and we may thus 
 explain the curious want of cohesion between what is in the 
 text (following Warnke and Proescholdt) called the Induc- 
 tion, and the body of the play. The Induction portrays 
 Fabell cheating the devil and winning by a trick another seven 
 years of immunity. We naturally expect, therefore, either a 
 comic or a serious variation of the theme of Faust ; but instead 
 the subject is simply dropped. 
 
 Little is known about Fabell beyond what we learn in the 
 play. A prose tract by Thomas Brewer on the life and death 
 of the Merry Devil of Edmonton, with the pranks of Smug the 
 Smith, Sir John and Mine Host of the George, was published 
 in 1631. It had, however, been entered at Stationers' Hall in 
 1608. Only a small portion of this tract is devoted to Fabell, 
 the greater part detailing the adventures of Smug. Brewer 
 tells us that ' in Edmonton he [Fabell] was born, lived and 
 died in the reign of King Henry vii.' 
 
 We may safely conclude that the low comedy of the piece, 
 as well as the character of Fabell, was the bequest of tradition. 
 The love story, and the characters of the knights, etc., are 
 otherwise unknown, and were probably the invention of the 
 dramatist. 
 
 Contemporary and other References to the Play. We 
 
 may reasonably infer that The Merry Devil of Edmonton v;z% 
 
 one of the most popular of Elizabethan comedies, for few of 
 
 viii
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton preface 
 
 them passed through so many editions. Moreover, the terms 
 in which it is aUuded to in the Blacke Book imply that it was 
 looked upon as an effective and amusing comedy. But the 
 most decisive reference is in the prologue to Ben Jonson's play. 
 The Devil is an Ass, where he speaks of it as the ' dear de- 
 light ' of the people : — 
 
 ' If you'll come 
 To see new plays, pray you afford us room, 
 And show this but the same face you have done 
 Your dear delight, the Devil of Edmonton.' 
 
 In later days The Merry Devil of Edmonton, standing among 
 the miscellaneous group of anonymous plays, has been less 
 widely known. It has, however, always remained a favourite 
 with professed students of the Elizabethan drama. Hazlitt de- 
 clared it to be 'assuredly not unworthy of Shakespeare, while 
 Lamb says that it 'seems written to make the reader happy.' 
 In this remark Lamb draws attention to its characteristic ex- 
 cellence. The Merry Devil of Edmonton is a happy, lively 
 romance, full of honest fun, and free from nearly everything 
 that can be stigmatised as addressed to coarser tastes and 
 passions. Perhaps its most serious defect is a certain want of 
 cohesion between the parts, especially between the supernatural 
 element of the Induction and the subsequent action. 
 
 IX
 
 THE MERRY DEVIL OF EDMONTON
 
 DRAMATIS PERSONS 
 
 Sir Arthur Clare 
 
 Sir Richard Mounchensey 
 
 Sir Ralph Jerningham 
 
 Harry Clare 
 
 Raymond Mounchensey 
 
 Frank Jerningham 
 
 Peter Fabell, the Merry Devil 
 
 CoREB, a Spirit 
 
 Blague, the Host 
 
 Sir John, a Priest 
 
 Banks, the Miller of Waltham 
 
 Smug, the Smith of Edmontoa 
 
 Sexton 
 
 Bilbo 
 
 Brian 
 
 Ralph, Brian's man 
 
 Friar Hildersham 
 
 Benedick 
 
 Chamberlain 
 
 Lady Dorcas Clare 
 MiLLicENT Clare, her Daughter 
 The Prioress of Cheston Nunnery 
 Nuns and Attendants.
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 Your silence and attention, worthy friends, 
 That your free spirits may with more pleasing sense 
 Relish the life of this our active scene ! 
 To which intent, to calm this murmuring breath, 
 We ring this round with our invoking spells ; 
 If that your listening ears be yet prepar'd 
 To entertain the subject of our play. 
 Lend us your patience ! 
 Tis Peter Fabell, a renowned scholar. 
 Whose fame hath still been hitherto forgot lo 
 
 By all the writers of this latter age. 
 In Middlesex his birth and his abode. 
 Not full seven mile from this great famous city ; 
 That, for his fame in sleights and magic won. 
 Was call'd the merry Fiend of Edmonton. 
 If any here make doubt of such a name, 
 In Edmonton yet fresh unto this day, 
 Fix'd in the wall of that old ancient church, 
 His monument remaineth to be seen ; 
 His memory yet in the mouths of men, 20 
 
 That whilst he liv'd he could deceive the Devil. 
 I
 
 PROLOGUE The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Imagine now that whilst he is retir'd 
 
 From Cambridge back unto his native home, 
 
 Suppose the silent, sable-visag'd night 
 
 Casts her black curtain over all the world ; 
 
 And whilst he sleeps within his silent bed, 
 
 Toil'd with the studies of the passed day, 
 
 The very time and hour wherein that spirit 
 
 That many years attended his command, 
 
 And oftentimes 'twixt Cambridge and that town 30 
 
 Had in a minute borne him through the air, 
 
 By composition 'twixt the fiend and him. 
 
 Comes now to claim the scholar for his due. 
 
 {^Draws the curtains. 
 Behold him here, laid on his restless couch. 
 His fatal chime prepared at his head, 
 His chamber guarded with these sable sleights, 
 And by him stands that necromantic chair, 
 In which he makes his direful invocations, 
 And binds the fiends that shall obey his will. 
 Sit with a pleased eye, until you know 40 
 
 The comic end of our sad tragic show. \Exit.
 
 THE MERRY DEVIL OF EDMONTON 
 
 INDUCTION 
 
 The chime goes, in which time Fabell is oft see?i to stare 
 about him^ and hold up his hands. 
 
 Fab. What means the tolling of this fatal chime? 
 O, what a trembling horror strikes my heart ! 
 My stiffen'd hair stands upright on my head, 
 As do the bristles of a porcupine. 
 
 Enter Coreb, a Spirit. 
 
 Cor. Fabell, awake ! or I will bear thee hence 
 
 Headlong to hell. 
 Fab. Ha, ha. 
 
 Why dost thou wake me? Coreb, is it thou? 
 Cor. 'Tis I. 
 Fab. I know thee well : I hear the watchful dogs lo 
 
 With hollow howling tell of thy approach ; 
 
 The lights burn dim, affrighted with thy presence ; 
 
 And this distempefd and tempestuous night 
 
 Tells me the air is troubled with some devil. 
 
 A 3
 
 INDUCTION The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Cor. Come, art thou ready ? 
 
 Fab. Whither ? or to what ? 
 
 Cor. Why, Scholar, this the hour my date expires ; 
 
 I must depart, and come to claim my due. 
 Fab. Ha, what is thy due ? 
 Cor. Fabell, thyself ! 
 
 Fab. O, let not darkness hear thee speak that word, 
 
 Lest that with force it hurry hence amain, 20 
 
 And leave the world to look upon my woe : 
 
 Yet overwhelm me with this globe of earth, 
 
 And let a little sparrow with her bill 
 
 Take but so much as she can bear away, 
 
 That, every day thus losing of my load, 
 
 I may again in time yet hope to rise. 
 Cor. Didst thou not write thy name in thine own blood, 
 
 And drew'st the formal deed 'twixt thee and me. 
 
 And is it not recorded now in hell ? 
 Fab. Why com'st thou in this stern and horrid shape, 
 
 Not in familiar sort, as thou wast wont? 31 
 
 Cor. Because the date of thy command is out. 
 
 And I am master of thy skill and thee. 
 Fab. Coreb, thou angry and impatient spirit, 
 
 I have earnest business for a private friend ; 
 
 Reserve me, spirit, until some further time. 
 Cor. I will not for the mines of all the earth. 
 Fab. Then let me rise, and ere I leave the world, 
 
 Dispatch some business that I have to do ; 
 
 And in mean time repose thee in that chair. 40 
 
 4
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton induction 
 
 Cor. Fabell, I will. \Sits down. 
 
 Fab. O, that this soul, that cost so great a price 
 As the dear precious blood of her Redeemer, 
 Inspir'd with knowledge, should by that alone 
 Which makes a man so mean unto the powers, 
 Even lead him down into the depth of hell. 
 When men in their own pride strive to know more 
 Than man should know ! 
 For this alone God cast the angels down. 
 The infinity of arts is like a sea, 50 
 
 Into which, when men will take in hand to sail 
 Further than reason, which should be his pilot, 
 Hath skill to guide him, losing once his compass. 
 He falleth to such deep and dangerous whirlpools, 
 As he doth lose the very sight of heaven : 
 The more he strives to come to quiet harbour. 
 The further still he finds himself from land. 
 Man, striving still to find the depth of evil. 
 Seeking to be a God, becomes a devil. 
 
 Cor. Come, Fabell, hast thou done ? 
 
 Fab. Yes, yes. Come hither ! 60 
 
 Cor. Fabell, I cannot. 
 
 Fab. Cannot ? — What ails your hollowness ? 
 
 Cor. Good Fabell, help me ! 
 
 Fab. Alas ! where lies your grief? some Aqua-vitae ! 
 The Devil 's very sick, I fear he'll die ; 
 For he looks very ill. 
 
 Cor. Dar'st thou deride the minister of darkness ?
 
 INDUCTION The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 In Lucifer's dread name Coreb conjures thee 
 To set him free. 
 
 Fab. I will not for the mines of all the earth, 70 
 
 Unless thou give me liberty to see 
 Seven years more, before thou seize on me. 
 
 Cor. Fabell, I give it thee. 
 
 Fab. Swear, damned fiend ! 
 
 Cor. Unbind me, and by hell I will not touch thee. 
 Till seven years from this hour be full expir'd. 
 
 Fab. Enough, come out. 
 
 Cor. A vengeance take thy art ! 
 
 Live and convert all piety to evil : 
 Never did man thus over-reach the Devil. 
 No time on earth like Phaetonic flames 
 Can have perpetual being. I '11 return 80 
 
 To my infernal mansion ; but be sure, 
 Thy seven years done, no trick shall make me tarry, 
 But, Coreb, thou to hell shalt Fabell carry. \^Exit. 
 
 Fab. Then, thus betwixt us two this variance ends. 
 
 Thou to thy fellow fiends, I to my friends ! \Exit.
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act i. sc. i. 
 
 ACT I 
 
 SCENE I 
 
 Enter Sir Arthur Clare, Dorcas, his lady, Milliceiit, 
 his daughter, young Harry Clare ; the men booted, 
 the Gentlewomen in cloaks and safeguards. Blague, 
 the merry Host of the George, conies in with them. 
 
 Host. Welcome, good knight, to the George at Waltham, 
 my free-hold, my tenements, goods and chattels ! 
 Madam, here 's a room is the very Homer and 
 Iliads of a lodging, it hath none of the four elements 
 in it ; I built it out of the centre, and I drink ne'er 
 the less sack. Welcome, my little waste of maiden- 
 heads ! What? I serve the good Duke of Norfolk. 
 
 Sir Ar. God-a-mercy, my good host Blague ! Thou 
 hast a good seat here. 9 
 
 Host. 'Tis correspondent or so : there 's not a Tartarian 
 nor a carrier shall breathe upon your geldings ; 
 they have villanous rank feet, the rogues, and they 
 shall not sweat in my linen. Knights and lords 
 too have been drunk in my house, I thank the 
 destinies. 
 
 Y. Cla. Prithee, good sinful innkeeper, will that corrup- 
 7
 
 ACT I. sc. I. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 tion, thine ostler, look well to my gelding. Hey, 
 a pox of these rushes ! 
 
 Host. YoUj Saint Dennis, your gelding shall walk with- 
 out doors, and cool his feet for his master's sake. By 
 the body of St. George, I have an excellent intellect 
 to go steal some venison. Now, when wast thou in 
 the forest ? 23 
 
 y. Cla. Away, you stale mess of white broth ! Come 
 hither, sister, let me help you. 
 
 Sir Ar. Mine host, is not Sir Richard Mounchensey 
 come yet, according to our appointment, when we 
 last dined here? 
 
 Host. The knight's not yet apparent. — Marry, here's a 
 forerunner that summons a parle, and saith, he'll 
 be here top and top-gallant presently. 31 
 
 Sir Ar. 'Tis well. Good mine host, go down, and see 
 breakfast be provided. 
 
 Host. Knight, thy breath hath the force of a woman, it 
 takes me down ; I am for the baser element of the 
 kitchen : I retire like a valiant soldier, face point- 
 blank to the foeman, or, like a courtier, that must 
 not show the Prince his posteriors ; I vanish to 
 know my canvasadoes, and my interrogatories, for 
 I serve the good Duke of Norfolk. \^Exit. 
 
 Sir Ar. How doth my Lady.'' are you not weary, 
 Madam? 41 
 
 Come hither, I must talk in private with you ; 
 My daughter Millicent must not overhear. 
 8
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act i. sc. i. 
 
 Mil. Ay, whispering ? pray God it tend my good ! 
 Strange fear assails my heart, usurps my blood. 
 
 {Aside, 
 
 Sir Ar. You know our meeting with the knight Moun- 
 chensey 
 Is to assure our daughter to his heir. 
 
 L. Dor. 'Tis, without question. 
 
 Sir Ar. Two tedious winters have past o'er, since first 
 This couple Icv'd each other, and in passion 50 
 
 Glued first their naked hands with youthful moist- 
 ure — 
 Just so long, on my knowledge. 
 
 L. Dor. And what of this ? 
 
 Sir Ar. This morning should my daughter lose her name. 
 And to Mounchensey's house convey our arms, 
 Ouarter'd within his 'scutcheon ; th' affiance, made 
 'Twixt him and her, this morning should be seal'd. 
 
 L. Dor. I know it should. 
 
 Sir Ar. But there are crosses, wife; here's one in 
 Waltham, 
 Another at the Abbey, and the third 
 At Cheston ; and 'tis ominous to pass 60 
 
 Any of these without a pater-noster. 
 Crosses of love still thwart this marriage. 
 Whilst that we two, like spirits, walk in night 
 About those stony and hard-hearted plots. 
 
 Mil. O God, what means my father ? [Aside. 
 
 Sir Ar. For look you, wife, the riotous old knight 
 9
 
 ACT I. sc. I. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Hath overrun his annual revenue 
 In keeping jolly Christmas all the year : 
 The nostrils of his chimney are still stuff d 69 
 
 With smoke, more chargeable than cane-tobacco : 
 His hawks devour his fattest hogs, whilst Simple, 
 His leanest cur, eats his hounds' carrion. 
 Besides, I heard of late, his younger brother, 
 A Turkey merchant, hath sore suck'd the knight 
 By means of some great losses on the sea ; 
 That, you conceive me, before God, all 's naught, 
 His seat is weak. Thus, each thing rightly scann'd, 
 You '11 see a flight, wife, shortly of his land. 
 
 Mil. Treason to my heart's truest sovereign ! 
 
 How soon is love smothered in foggy gain ! 80 
 
 \Aside. 
 
 L. Dor. But how shall we prevent this dangerous match ? 
 
 Sir Ar. I have a plot, a trick, and this it is — 
 Under this colour I '11 break off the match : 
 I '11 tell the knight that now my mind is chang'd 
 For marrying of my daughter : for I intend 
 To send her unto Cheston Nunnery. 
 
 MIL O me accurst ! [Aside. 
 
 Sir Ar. There to become a most religious nun. 
 
 Mil. I '11 first be buried quick. \Aside. 
 
 Sir Ar. To spend her beauty in most private prayers. 
 
 Mil. I '11 sooner be a sinner in forsaking 91 
 
 Mother and father. {^Aside. 
 
 Sir Ar. How dost like my plot ? 
 
 10
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act i. sc. 2. 
 
 L. Dor. Exceeding well ; but is it your intent 
 She shall continue there ? 
 
 Sir Ar. Continue there ? Ha, ha, that were a jest ! 
 You know a virgin may continue there 
 A twelvemonth and a day only on trial. 
 There shall my daughter sojourn some three 
 
 months, 
 And in meantime I '11 compass a fair match 
 'Twixt youthful Jerningham, the lusty heir loo 
 
 Of Sir Ralph Jerningham, dwelling in the forest. 
 I think they'll both come hither with Mounchensey. 
 
 L. Dor. Your care argues the love you bear our child ; 
 I will subscribe to anything you '11 have me. 
 
 \Exeu7it. 
 
 Mil. You will subscribe to it ! Good, good, 'tis well ; 
 Love hath two chairs of state, heaven and hell. 
 My dear Mounchensey, thou my death shalt rue, 
 Ere to thy heart Millicent prove untrue. \^Exit. 
 
 SCENE II 
 Enter Blague, 
 
 Host. Ostlers, you knaves and commanders, take the 
 horses of the knights and competitors : your honour- 
 able hulks have put into harbour, they '11 take in 
 fresh water here, and I have provided clean cham- 
 ber-pots. Via, they come ! 
 II
 
 ACT I. sc. 2. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Enter Sir Richard Moimchensey^ Sir Ralph Jerningham^ 
 Young Frank Jerningham^ Raymojid Moicnchensey^ 
 Peter Fabell, and Bilbo. 
 
 Host. The destinies be most neat chamberlains to these 
 swaggering puritans, knights of the subsidy. 
 
 Sir Rich. God-a-mercy, good mine host. 
 
 Sir Ralph. Thanks, good host Blague. 9 
 
 Host. Room for my case of pistols, that have Greek and 
 Latin bullets in them ; let me cling to your flanks, 
 my nimble Giberalters, and blow wind in your 
 calves to make them swell bigger. Ha, I '11 caper 
 in mine own fee-simple. Away with punctilios and 
 orthography ! I serve the good Duke of Norfolk. 
 Bilbo, Tityre, tu patulce recubafis sub tegtnitie fagi. 
 
 Bil. Truly, mine host. Bilbo, though he be somewhat 
 out of fashion, will be your only blade still. I have 
 a villanous sharp stomach to slice a breakfast. 19 
 
 Host. Thou shalt have it without any more discontinu- 
 ance, releases, or attournment. What ! we know 
 our terms of hunting and the sea-card. 
 
 Bil. And do you serve the good Duke of Norfolk still ? 
 
 Host. Still, and still, and still, my soldier of St. 
 Quentin's ! Come, follow me ; I have Charles' 
 wain below in a butt of sack, 'twill glister like your 
 crab-fish. 
 
 Bil. You have fine scholar-like terms ; your Cooper's 
 Dictionary is your only book to study in a cellar, a 
 12
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act i. sc. 2. 
 
 man shall find very strange words in it. Come, my 
 host, let's serve the good Duke of Norfolk. 31 
 
 Host. And still, and still, and still, my boy, I '11 serve 
 the good Duke of Norfolk. 
 
 \Exeunt Host and Bilbo. 
 
 Enter Sir Arthur Clare^ Harry Clare ^ a?id Millicent. 
 
 Sir Ralph. Good Sir Arthur Clare ! 
 
 Sir Ar. What gentleman is that ? I know him not. 
 
 Sir Rich. 'Tis Master Fabell, sir, a Cambridge scholar, 
 
 My son's dear friend. 
 Sir Ar. Sir, I entreat you know me. 
 
 Fad. Command me, sir ; I am affected to you 
 
 For your Mounchensey's sake. 
 Sir Ar. Alas, for him, 
 
 I not respect whether he sink or swim ! 40 
 
 A word in private. Sir Ralph Jferningham. 
 Ray. Methinks your father looketh strangely on me : 
 
 Say, love, why are you sad ? 
 Mil. I am not, sweet ; 
 
 Passion is strong, when woe with woe doth meet. 
 Sir Ar. Shall 's in to breakfast ? After we '11 conclude 
 
 The cause of this our coming : in and feed. 
 
 And let that usher a more serious deed. 
 Mil. Whilst you desire his grief, my heart shall bleed. 
 Y.Jer. Raymond Mounchensey, come, be frolic, friend, 
 
 This is the day thou hast expected long. 50 
 
 13
 
 ACT I. sc. 3. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Ray. Pray God, dear Jerningham, it prove so happy. 
 
 Y.Jer. There's nought can alter it ! Be merry, lad ! 
 
 Fab. There 's nought shall alter it ! Be lively, Raymond ! 
 Stand any opposition 'gainst thy hope, 
 Art shall confront it with her largest scope. 
 
 \Exeuiit. 
 
 SCENE III 
 
 Peter Fabell^ solus. 
 
 Fab. Good old Mounchensey, is thy hap so ill, 
 That for thy bounty and thy royal parts 
 Thy kind alliance should be held in scorn, 
 And after all these promises my Clare 
 Refuse to give his daughter to thy son, 
 Only because thy revenues cannot reach 
 To make her dowage of so rich a jointure 
 As can the heir of wealthy Jerningham ? 
 And therefore is the false fox now in hand 
 To strike a match betwixt her and the other ; 10 
 And the old grey-beards now are close together. 
 Plotting it in the garden. Is't even so ? 
 Raymond Mounchensey, boy, have thou and I 
 Thus long at Cambridge read the liberal arts. 
 The metaphysics, magic, and those parts 
 Of the most secret deep philosophy? 
 Have I so many melancholy nights 
 14
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act i. sc. 3. 
 
 Watch'd on the top of Peter-house highest tower, 
 
 And come we back unto our native home, 
 
 For want of skill to lose the wench thou lov'st ? 20 
 
 We'll first hang Enfield in such rings of mist 
 
 As never rose from any dampish fen : 
 
 I '11 make the brined sea to rise at Ware, 
 
 And drown the marshes unto Stratford Bridge ; 
 
 I '11 drive the deer from Waltham in their walks, 
 
 And scatter them like sheep in every field. 
 
 We may perhaps be cross'd ; but, if we be. 
 
 He shall cross the Devil, that but crosses me. 
 
 Enter Raymond^ You?tg Jeruz/igham, and Young Clare. 
 
 But here comes Raymond, disconsolate and sad, 29 
 And here 's the gallant that must have the wench. 
 
 Y. Jer. I prithee, Raymond, leave these solemn dumps : 
 Revive thy spirits, thou that before hast been 
 More watchful than the day-proclaiming cock, 
 As sportive as a kid, as frank and merry 
 As Mirth herself ! 
 
 If aught in me may thy content procure. 
 It is thine own, thou may'st thyself assure. 
 
 Ray, Ha, Jerningham, if any but thyself 
 
 Had spoke that word, it would have come as cold 
 As the bleak northern winds upon the face 40 
 
 Of winter. 
 
 From thee they have some power upon my blood j 
 15
 
 ACT I. sc. 3. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Yet being from thee, — had but that hollow sound 
 Come from the lips of any living man, 
 It might have won the credit of mine ear ; 
 From thee it cannot. 
 
 V. Jer. If I understand thee, I am a villain : 
 
 What, dost thou speak in parables to thy friends ? 
 
 Y. Cla. Come, boy, and make me this same groaning 
 love, — 
 Troubled with stitches and the cough a' th' lungs, 50 
 That wept his eyes out when he was a child, 
 And ever since hath shot at hoodman-blind, — 
 Make her leap, caper, jerk, and laugh, and sing, 
 And play me horse-tricks ; 
 Make Cupid wanton as his mother's dove : 
 But in this sort, boy, I would have thee love. 
 
 Fab, Why, how now, madcap ? \Miat, my lusty Frank, 
 So near a wife, and will not tell your friend ? 
 But you will to this gear in hugger-mugger ; 
 Art thou turned miser, rascal, in thy loves ? 60 
 
 Y. Jer. Who, I ? 'Sblood, what should all you see in me, 
 that I should look like a married man, ha ? Am I 
 bald ? are my legs too little for my hose ? If I feel 
 anything in my forehead, I am a villain. Do I wear 
 a nightcap ? do I bend in the hams ? What dost 
 thou see in me, that I should be towards marriage, 
 ha? 
 
 K Cla. What, thou married t let me look upon thee, 
 rogue. Who has given out this of thee ? how cam'st 
 16
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act i, sc. 3. 
 
 thou into this ill name ? What company hast thou 
 been in, rascal ? 71 
 
 Fab. You are the man, sir, must have Millicent, 
 The match is making in the garden now ; 
 Her jointure is agreed on, and th' old men, 
 Your fathers, mean to launch their busy bags. 
 But in meantime to thrust Mounchensey off. 
 For colour of this new intended match, 
 Fair Millicent to Cheston must be sent, 
 To take the approbation for a nun. 
 Ne'er look upon me, lad, the match is done. 80 
 
 Y. Jer. Raymond Mounchensey, now I touch thy grief 
 With the true feeling of a zealous friend. 
 And as for fair and beauteous Millicent, 
 With my vain breath I will not seek to slubber 
 Her angel-like perfections ; but thou know'st 
 That Essex hath the saint that I adore. 
 Where e'er did we meet thee and wanton springs. 
 That like a wag thou hast not laugh'd at me. 
 And with regardless jesting mock'd my love .? 
 How many a sad and weary summer night 90 
 
 My sighs have drunk the dew from off the earth, 
 And I have taught the nightingale to wake, 
 And from the meadows sprung the early lark 
 An hour before she should have list to sing : 
 I have loaded the poor minutes with my moans. 
 That I have made the heavy slow-pac'd hours 
 To hang like heavy clogs upon the day 
 17
 
 ACT I. sc. 3. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 But, dear Mounchensey, had not my affection 
 
 Seiz'd on the beauty of another dame, 
 
 Before I 'd wrong the chase, and o'ergive th' love 
 
 Of one so worthy and so true a friend, loi 
 
 I will abjure both beauty and her sight, 
 
 And will in love become a counterfeit. 
 
 Ray. Dear Jerningham, thou hast begot my life, 
 And from the mouth of hell, where now I sat, 
 I feel my spirit rebound against the stars : 
 Thou hast conquer'd me, dear friend ; in my free 
 
 soul 
 Neither time nor death can by their power control. 
 
 Fab. Frank Jerningham, thou art a gallant boy ; 
 
 And were he not my pupil, I would say no 
 
 He were as fine a mettled gentleman, 
 Of as free spirit, and of as fine a temper 
 As is in England ; and he is a man 
 That very richly may deserve thy love. 
 But, noble Clare, this while of our discourse, 
 What may Mounchensey's honour to thyself 
 Exact upon the measure of thy grace ? 
 
 Y. Cla. Raymond Mounchensey? I would have thee 
 know, 
 He does not breathe this air, 
 
 Whose love I cherish, and whose soul I love 120 
 More than Mounchensey's : 
 Nor ever in my life did see the man 
 WTiom, for his wit and many virtuous parts, 
 18
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act i. sc. 3. 
 
 I think more worthy of my sister's love. 
 But since the matter grows unto this pass, 
 I must not seem to cross my father's will ; 
 But when thou list to visit her by night, 
 My horse is saddled, and the stable door 
 Stands ready for thee ; use them at thy pleasure. 
 In honest marriage wed her frankly, boy, 130 
 
 And if thou gett'st her, lad, God give thee joy I 
 
 Ray. Then, care, away ! Let fates my fall pretend, 
 Back'd with the favours of so true a friend ! 
 
 Fab. Let us alone, to bustle for the set ; 
 
 For age and craft with wit and art have met. 
 I '11 make my spirits to dance such nightly jigs 
 Along the way 'twixt this and Tot'nam cross, 
 The carriers' jades shall cast their heavy packs. 
 And the strong hedges scarce shall keep them in : 
 The milkmaid's cuts shall turn the wenches off, 140 
 And lay the dossers tumbling in the dust : 
 The frank and merry London 'prentices, 
 That come for cream and lusty country cheer, ' 
 Shall lose their way ; and, scrambling in the 
 
 ditches. 
 All night shall whoop and hollow, cry and call, 
 Yet none to other find the way at all. 
 
 Ray. Pursue the project, scholar : what we can do 
 
 To help endeavour, join our lives thereto ! \Exeunt. 
 
 19
 
 ACT II. sc. 1. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 ACT II 
 
 SCENE I 
 Enter Banks ^ Sir John ^ and Smug. 
 
 Banks. Take me with you, good Sir John ! A plague 
 on thee, Smug! an thou touchest liquor, thou art 
 foundered straight. What ! are your brains always 
 water-mills ? must they ever run round ? 
 
 Smug. Banks, your ale is a Philistine fox ; heart, there's 
 fire i' the tail on 't ; you are a rogue to charge us 
 with mugs i' th' rearward. A plague of this wind ; 
 O, it tickles our catastrophe. 8 
 
 Sir John. Neighbour Banks of Waltham, and Goodman 
 Smug, the honest smith of Edmonton, as I dwell 
 betwixt you both at Enfield, I know the taste of 
 both your ale-houses ; they are good both, smart 
 both. Hem, grass and hay ! we are all mortal ; 
 let 's live till we die, and be merry ; and there 's an 
 end. 
 
 Banks. Well said, Sir John, you are of the same humour 
 still ; and doth the water run the same way still, 
 boy? i8 
 
 20
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act ii. sc. i. 
 
 Smug. Vulcan was a rogue to him ; Sir John, lock, lock, 
 lock fast, Sir John ; so, Sir John. I '11 one of these 
 years, when it shall please the goddesses and the 
 destinies, be drunk in your company ; that 's all 
 now, and God send us health. Shall I swear I 
 love you ? 
 
 Sir JoJm. No oaths, no oaths, good neighbour Smug ; 
 We '11 wet our lips together and hug ; 
 Carouse in private, and elevate the heart, and the 
 liver and the lights — and the lights, mark you me, 
 within us ; for, hem, grass and hay ! we are all 
 mortal; let's live till we die, and be merry; and 
 there's an end, 31 
 
 Banks. But to our former motion about stealing some 
 venison ; whither go we ? 
 
 Sir John. Into the forest, neighbour Banks, into Brian's 
 walk, the mad keeper. 
 
 Smtig. 'Sblood ! I '11 tickle your keeper. 
 
 Banks. V faith, thou art always drunk when we have 
 need of thee. 
 
 Stnug. Need of me ? 'sheart ! you shall have need of 
 me always, while there 's iron in an anvil. 40 
 
 Banks. Master Parson, may the smith go, think you, 
 being in this taking ? 
 
 Smug. Go ? I '11 go in spite of all the bells in Waltham. 
 
 Sir John. The question is, good neighbour Banks — let 
 me see : the moon shines to-night, — there 's not a 
 narrow bridge betwixt this and the forest, — his 
 21
 
 ACT II. sc. 1. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 brain will be settled ere night ; he may go, he may 
 go, neighbour Banks. Now we want none but the 
 company of mine host Blague of the George at 
 Walthaia ; if he were here, our consort were full. 
 Look where comes my good host, the Duke of Nor- 
 folk's man ! and how ? and how ? ahem, grass and 
 hay ! we are not yet mortal ; let 's live till we die, 
 and be merry ; and there's an end. 54 
 
 Enter Host, 
 
 Host. Ha, my Castilian dialogues ! and art thou in breath 
 still, boy? Miller, doth the match hold? Smith, 
 I see by thy eyes thou hast been reading little 
 Geneva print : but wend we memly to the forest, 
 to steal some of the king's deer ! I '11 meet you at 
 the time appointed. Away, I have knights and 
 colonels at my house, and must tend the Hungarians. 
 If we be scared in the forest, we '11 meet in the 
 church-porch at Enfield ; is't correspondent? 63 
 
 Banks. 'Tis well ; but how, if any of us should be taken? 
 
 S?}iug. He shall have ransom, by the Lord. 
 
 Host. Tush, the knave keepers are my bosonians and 
 my pensioners. Nine o'clock ! be valiant, my little 
 Gogmagogs ; I '11 fence with all the justices in Hert- 
 fordshire. I '11 have a buck till I die ; I '11 slay a 
 doe while I live. Hold your bow straight and 
 steady ! I serve the good Duke of Norfolk. 71 
 
 22
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act ii. sc. z. 
 
 Smug. O rare ! who-ho-ho, boy ! 
 
 Sir JoJm. Peace, neighbour Smug ! You see this is a boor, 
 a boor of the country, an ilHterate boor, and yet the 
 citizen of good fellows. Come, let 's provide ; ahem, 
 grass and hay ! we are not yet all mortal ; we '11 
 live till we die, arid be merry ; and there's an end. 
 Come, Smug ! 
 
 S7nug. Good night, Waltham — who-ho-ho, boy ! 
 
 \Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II 
 
 Enter the Knights ajtd Gentlemen from breakfast again. 
 
 Sir Rich. Nor I for thee, Clare, not of this. 
 
 What } hast thou fed me all this while with shalls ? 
 
 And com'st to tell me now thou lik'st it not ? 
 Sir Ar. I do not hold thy offer competent ; 
 
 Nor do I like th' assurance of thy land, 
 
 The title is so brangled with thy debts. 
 Sir Rich. Too good for thee ; and, knight, thou knowest 
 it well, 
 
 I fawn'd not on thee for thy goods, not I ; 
 
 'Twas thine own motion ; that thy wife doth know. 
 L. Dor. Husband, it was so ; he lies not in that. lo 
 
 Sir Ar. Hold thy chat, quean. 
 
 Sir Rich. To which I hearken'd willingly, and the 
 rather, 
 
 23
 
 ACT II. sc. 2. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Because I was persuaded it proceeded 
 From love thou bor'st to me and to my boy ; 
 And gav'st him free access unto thy house, 
 Where he hath not behav'd him to thy child 
 But as befits a gentleman to do : 
 Nor is my poor distressed state so low, 
 That I '11 shut up my doors, I warrant thee. 
 
 Sir Ar. Let it suffice, Mounchensey, I mislike it ; 20 
 Nor think thy son a match fit for my child. 
 
 Sir Rich. I tell thee, Clare, his blood is good and 
 clear, 
 As the best drop that panteth in thy veins : 
 But for this maid, thy fair and virtuous child, 
 She is no more disparag'd by thy baseness 
 Than the most orient and the precious jewel. 
 Which still retains his lustre and his beauty, 
 Although a slave were o\\Tier of the same. 
 
 Sir Ar. She is the last is left me to bestow, 
 
 And her I mean to dedicate to God. 30 
 
 Sir Rich. You do, sir ? 
 
 Sir Ar. Sir, sir, I do, she is mine own. 
 
 Sir Rich. And pity she is so ! — 
 
 Damnation dog thee and thy wretched pelf ! 
 
 \Aside. 
 
 Sir Ar. Not thou, Mounchensey, shalt bestow my child. 
 
 Sir Rich. Neither shalt thou bestow her where thou 
 mean'st. 
 
 Sir Ar. What wilt thou do ? 
 24
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act ii. sc. ». 
 
 Sir Rich. No matter, let that be ; 
 
 I will do that, perhaps, shall anger thee : 
 Thou hast wrong'd my love, and, by God's blessed 
 
 angel. 
 Thou shalt well know it. 
 
 Sir Ar. Tut, brave not me ! 
 
 Sir Rich. Brave thee, base churl ! Were 't not for man- 
 hood sake — 40 
 I say no more, but that there be some by 
 Whose blood is hotter than ours is. 
 Which, being stirr'd, might make us both repent 
 This foolish meeting. But, Harry Clare, 
 Although thy father have abused my friendship. 
 Yet I love thee, I do, my noble boy, 
 I do, i' faith. 
 
 L. Dor. Ay, do, do, fill all the world with talk of us, 
 man ; man, I never look'd for better at your hands. 
 
 Fab. I hoped your great experience and your years 50 
 Would have prov'd patience rather to your soul, 
 Than with this frantic and untamed passion 
 To whet their skeins. And, but for that 
 I hope their friendships are too well confirm'd. 
 And their minds tempered with more kindly heat, 
 Than for their froward parents' soars. 
 That they should break forth into public brawls. 
 Howe'er the rough hand of th' untoward world 
 Hath moulded your proceedings in this matter. 
 Yet I am sure the first intent was love : 60 
 
 25
 
 ACT II. sc. 8. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Then since the first spring was so sweet and warm, 
 Let it die gently ; ne'er kill it with a scorn. 
 Ray. O thou base world, how leprous is that soul 
 That is once lim'd in that polluted mud ! 
 
 Sir Arthur, you have startled his free active 
 
 spirits 
 With a too sharp spur for his mind to bear. 
 Have patience, sir ; the remedy to woe 
 Is to leave what of force we must forego. 
 Mil. And I must take a twelvemonth's approbation, 
 
 That in meantime this sole and private life 70 
 
 At the year's end may fashion me a wife. 
 
 But, sweet Mounchensey, ere this year be done, 
 
 Thou'st be a friar, if that I be a nun. 
 
 And, father, ere young Jerningham's I '11 be, 
 
 1 will turn mad to spite both him and thee. 
 
 \_Aside. 
 Sir Ar. Wife, come to horse, and, huswife, make you 
 ready ; 
 For, if I live, I swear by this good light, 
 I '11 see you lodg'd in Cheston house to-night. 
 
 \Exeunt. 
 Sir Rich. Raymond, away ! Thou seest how matters 
 fall. 
 Churl, hell consume thee, and thy pelf, and all ! 80 
 Fab. Now, Master Clare, you see how matters fadge ; 
 Your Millicent must needs be made a nun. 
 Well, sir, we are the men must ply this match : 
 26
 
 1 he Merry Devil of Edmonton act xi. sc. 3. 
 
 Hold you your peace, and be a looker on, 
 And send her unto Cheston when he will, 
 I '11 send me fellows of a handful high 
 Into the cloisters where the nuns frequent, 
 Shall make them skip like does about the dale. 
 And make the lady prioress of the house 
 To play at leap-frog, naked in their smocks, 90 
 
 Until the merry wenches at their mass 
 Cry teehee weehee ; 
 
 And tickling these mad lasses in their flanks, 
 Shall sprawl, and squeak, and pinch their fellow- 
 nuns. 
 Be lively, boys, before the wench we lose, 
 I '11 make the abbess wear the canon's hose. 
 
 [Exeu/if. 
 
 SCENE III 
 
 Enter Harry Clare, Frank Jerningham, Peter Fabell^ 
 a?id MilUcent. 
 
 V. Cla. 5pite now hath done her worst ; sister, be patient ! 
 K Jer. Forewarn'd poor Raymond's company ! O 
 heaven ! 
 When the composure of weak frailty meet 
 Upon this mart of dirt, O then weak love 
 Must in her own unhappiness be silent, 
 And wink on all deformities. 
 27
 
 ACT II. sc. 3. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Mil. 'Tis well : 
 
 Where's Raymond, brother? Where's my dear 
 
 Mounchensey ? 
 Would we might weep together and then part ; 
 Our sighing parle would much ease my heart. 
 
 Fab. Sweet beauty, fold your sorrows in the thought 10 
 Of future reconcilement. Let your tears 
 Show you a woman ; but be no farther spent 
 Than from the eyes ; for, sweet, experience says 
 That love is firm that 's flatter'd with delays. 
 
 Mil. Alas, sir, think you I shall e'er be his ? 
 
 Fab. As sure as parting smiles on future bliss, 
 Yond comes my friend ! See, he hath doted 
 So long upon your beauty, that your want 
 Will with a pale retirement waste his blood ; 
 For in true love music doth sweetly dwell : 20 
 
 Sever'd, these less worlds bear within them hell. 
 
 Enter Rayjnond Mounchensey. 
 
 Ray. Harry and Frank, you are enjoined to wean 
 
 Your friendship from me ; we must part ; the breath 
 
 Of all advised corruption, pardon me ! ' 
 
 Faith, I must say so ; you may think I love you, 
 
 I breathe not rougher spite to sever us ; 
 
 We '11 meet by stealth, sweet friends, by stealth you 
 
 twain ; 
 Kisses are sweetest got with struggling pain. 
 
 Y.Jer. Our friendship dies not, Raymond. 
 28
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act ii. sc. 3. 
 
 Ray. Pardon me : 
 
 I am busied ; I have lost my faculties, 30 
 
 And buried them in Millicent's clear eyes. 
 
 Mil. Alas, sweet love, what shall become of me? 
 I must to Cheston to the nunnery, 
 I shall ne'er see thee more. 
 
 Ray. How, sweet ? 
 
 I '11 be thy votary, we '11 often meet : 
 This kiss divides us, and breathes soft adieu, — 
 This be a double charm to keep both true. 
 
 Fab. Have done : your fathers may chance spy your 
 parting. 
 Refuse not you by any means, good sweetness, 
 To go unto the nunnery ; far from hence 40 
 
 Must we beget your love's sweet happiness. 
 You shall not stay there long ; your harder bed 
 Shall be more soft when nun and maid are dead. 
 
 Enter Bilbo. 
 
 Ray. Now, sirrah, what 's the matter ? 
 
 Bil. Marry, you must to horse presently ; that villanous 
 old gouty churl. Sir Arthur Clare, longs till he be 
 at the nunnery. 
 
 Y. Cla. How, sir? 
 
 Bil. O; I cry you mercy, he is your father, sir, indeed ; 
 
 but I am sure that there 's less affinity betwixt your 
 
 two natures than there is between a broker and a 
 
 cutpurse. 52 
 
 29
 
 ACT II. sc. 3. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Ray. Bring my gelding, sirrah. 
 
 Bil. Well, nothing grieves me, but for the poor wench ; 
 
 she must now cry vale to lobster-pies, artichokes, 
 
 and all such meats of mortality. Poor gentlewoman! 
 
 the sign must not be in Virgo any longer with her, 
 
 and that me grieves full well. 
 
 Poor Millicent 
 
 Must pray and repent : 60 
 
 O fatal wonder ! 
 
 She '11 now be no fatter, 
 
 Love must not come at her, 
 
 Yet she shall be kept under. 
 
 \ExiL 
 Y.Jer. Farewell, dear Raymond. 
 Y. Cla, Friend, adieu. 
 
 Mil, Dear sweet, 
 
 No joy enjoys my heart till we next meet. [Exeunt. 
 Fab. Well, Raymond, now the tide of discontent 
 Beats in thy face ; but, ere 't be long, the wind 
 Shall turn the flood. We must to Waltham Abbey, 
 And as fair Millicent in Cheston lives, 70 
 
 A most unwilling nun, so thou shalt there 
 Become a beardless novice ; to what end, 
 Let time and future accidents declare : 
 Taste thou my sleights, thy love I '11 only share. 
 Ray. Turn friar ? Come, my good counsellor, let 's go. 
 Yet that disguise will hardly shroud my woe. 
 
 [Exeunt
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act hi. sc. i. 
 
 ACT III 
 
 SCENE I 
 
 Enter the Prioress of Chesion, with a nun or two, Sir 
 Arthur Clare, Sir Ralph Jerfiifighain, He?iry and 
 Frank, the Lady, and Bilbo, with Millice?it. 
 
 L. Dor. Madam, 
 
 The love unto this holy sisterhood, 
 And our confirm'd opinion of your zeal, 
 Hath truly won us to bestow our child 
 Rather on this than any neighbouring cell. 
 Pri. Jesus' daughter, Mary's child, 
 Holy matron, woman mild, 
 For thee a mass shall still be said. 
 Every Sister drop a bead ; 
 
 And those again succeeding them lO 
 
 For you shall sing a requiem. 
 Y. Jer. The wench is gone, Harry ; she is no more a 
 woman of this world. Mark her well, she looks like 
 a nun already. What think'st on her? [^Aside. 
 
 Y. Cla. By my faith, her face comes handsomely to't. 
 But peace, let 's hear the rest. [Aside. 
 
 Sir Ar. Madam, for a twelvemonth's approbation, 
 31
 
 ACT III. sc. I. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 We mean to make this trial of our child. 
 Your care and our dear blessing, in meantime. 
 We pray, may prosper this intended work. 20 
 
 /*;-/. May your happy soul be blythe, 
 That so truly pay your tithe : 
 He who many children gave, 
 'Tis fit that He one child should have. 
 Then, fair virgin, hear my spell, 
 For I must your duty tell. 
 Mil. Good men and true, stand together, and hear your 
 charge ! \_Aside. 
 
 Pri. First, a-mornings take your book, 
 
 The glass wherein yourself must look ; 
 Your young thoughts, so proud and jolly, 30 
 Must be turned to motions holy ; 
 For your busk, attires, and toys. 
 Have your thoughts on heavenly joys ; 
 And for all your follies past 
 You must do penance, pray, and fast. 
 BiL Let her take heed of fasting ; and if ever she hurt 
 herself with praying, I '11 ne'er trust beast. \Aside. 
 Mil. This goes hard, by 'r Lady ! {Aside. 
 
 Pri. You shall ring the sacring bell, 
 
 Keep your hours, and toll your knell, 40 
 
 Rise at midnight to your matins, 
 Read your Psalter, sing your Latins, 
 And when your blood shall kindle pleasure 
 Scourge yourself in plenteous measure. 
 32
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act hi. sc. x. 
 
 Mil. Worse and worse, by Saint Mary ! \Aside. 
 
 Y.Jer. Sirrah Hal, how does she hold her countenance? 
 Well, go thy ways, if ever you prove a nun, I'll 
 build an Abbey. \Aside. 
 
 Y. Cla. She may be a nun ; but if ever she prove an 
 anchoress, I '11 dig her grave with my nails. \Aside. 
 y. Jer. To her again, mother ! \Aside. 
 
 Y. Cla. Hold thine own, wench ! \Aside 
 
 Pri. You must read the morning's mass, 
 You must creep unto the cross, 
 Put cold ashes on your head. 
 Have a hair-cloth for your bed. 
 Bil. She had rather have a man in her bed. \Aside. 
 
 Pri. Bid your beads, and tell your needs. 
 Your holy aves., and your creeds ; 
 Holy maid, this must be done, 
 If you mean to live a nun. 
 Mil. The holy maid will be no nun. \Aside. 
 
 Sir Ar. Madam, we have some business of import, 
 And must be gone. 
 
 Will't please you take my wife into your closet, 
 Who further will acquaint you with my mind ; 
 And so, good madam, for this time adieu. 
 
 \Exeunt women. 
 Sir Ralph. Well now, Frank Jerningham, how sayest 
 thou? 
 
 To be brief, — 
 What wilt thou say for all this, if we two 
 33
 
 ACT III. sc. X. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Her father and myself, can bring about, 70 
 
 That we convert this nun to be a wife, 
 And thou the husband to this pretty nun ? 
 How then, my lad? ha, Frank, it may be done. 
 
 y. Cla. Ay, now it works. 
 
 Y.Jer. O God, sir, you amaze me at your words ; 
 Think with yourself, sir, what a thing it were 
 To cause a recluse to remove her vow : 
 A maimed, contrite, and repentant soul, 
 Ever mortified with fasting and with prayer, 
 Whose thoughts, even as her eyes, are fix'd on 
 heaven, 80 
 
 To draw a virgin, thus devoufd with zeal, 
 Back to the world : O impious deed ! 
 Nor by the canon law can it be done 
 Without a dispensation from the Church ; 
 Besides, she is so prone unto this life. 
 As she '11 even shriek to hear a husband nam'd. 
 
 Bil. Ay, a poor innocent she ! Well, here's no knavery ; 
 he flouts the old fools to their teeth. {Aside. 
 
 Sir Ralph. Boy, I am glad to hear 
 
 Thou mak'st such scruple of that conscience ; 90 
 And in a man so young as is yourself, 
 I promise you 'tis very seldom seen. 
 But Frank, this is a trick, a mere device, 
 A sleight plotted betwixt her father and myself. 
 To thrust Mounchensey's nose beside the cushion ; 
 That, being thus debarfd of all access, 
 34
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act hi. sc. ». 
 
 Time yet may work him from her thoughts, 
 And give thee ample scope to thy desires. 
 
 Bil. A plague on you both for a couple of Jews ! {^Aside. 
 
 Y. Cla. How now, Frank, what say you to that ? loo 
 
 \Aside to Frank. 
 
 Y.Jer. Let me alone, I warrant thee. \_Aside to Harry. 
 Sir, assur'd that this motion doth proceed 
 From your most kind and fatherly affection, 
 I do dispose my liking to your pleasure : 
 But for it is a matter of such moment 
 As holy marriage, I must crave thus much. 
 To have some conference with my ghostly father. 
 Friar Hildersham, here by, at Waltham Abbey, 
 To be absolved of things, that it is fit 
 None only but my confessor should know. i lo 
 
 Sir Ralph. With all my heart. He is a reverend man ; 
 and to-morrow morning we will meet all at the 
 Abbey, where by the opinion of that reverend man 
 we will proceed ; I like it passing well. 
 Till then we part, boy ; ay, think of it ; farewell ! 
 A parent's care no mortal tongue can tell. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II 
 
 Enter Sir Arthur Clare, and Rayiyiond Mounchensey^ 
 like a Friar. 
 
 Sir Ar. Holy young novice, I have told you now 
 My full intent, and do refer the rest 
 c 35
 
 ACT III. sc. 2. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 To your professed secrecy and care : 
 And see, 
 
 Our serious speech hath stolen upon the way, 
 That we are come unto the Abbey gate. 
 Because I know Mounchensey is a fox, 
 That craftily doth overlook my doings, 
 I '11 not be seen, not I ; tush, I have done, 
 I had a daughter, but she's now a nun. lo 
 
 Farewell, dear son, farewell. [Exz'f. 
 
 Ray. Fare you well I — Ay, you have done ! 
 
 Your daughter, sir, shall not be long a nun. 
 
 O my rare tutor, never mortal brain 
 
 Plotted out such a mass of policy ; 
 
 And my dear bosom is so great with laughter, 
 
 Begot by his simplicity and error, 
 
 My soul is fallen in labour with her joy. 
 
 O my true friends, Frank Jerningham and Clare, 
 
 Did you now know but how this jest takes fire — 20 
 
 That good Sir Arthur, thinking me a novice, 
 
 Had even pour'd himself into my bosom, 
 
 O, you would vent your spleens with tickling mirth ! 
 
 But, Raymond, peace, and have an eye about. 
 
 For fear perhaps some of the nuns look out. 
 
 Peace and charity within. 
 
 Never touch'd with deadly sin ; 
 
 I cast my holy water pure 
 
 On this wall and on this door, 30 
 
 That from evil shall defend, 
 36
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act hi. sc. *. 
 
 And keep you from the ugly fiend : 
 Evil spirit, by night nor day, 
 Shall approach or come this way ; 
 Elf nor fairy, by this grace, 
 Day nor night shall haunt this place. 
 Holy maidens ! [ICnocks. 
 
 [Answer within.'] Who 's that which knocks ? ha, who 
 
 is there ? 
 Ray. Gentle nun, here is a friar. 
 
 Enter Nun. 
 
 Nun. A friar without, now Christ us save ! 
 
 Holy man, what wouldst thou hare ? 40 
 
 Ray. Holy maid, I hither come 
 
 From Friar and Father Hildersham, 
 
 By the favour and the grace 
 
 Of the Prioress of this place 
 
 Amongst you all to visit one 
 
 That 's come for approbation ; 
 
 Before she was as now you are. 
 
 The daughter of Sir Arthur Clare. 
 
 But since she now became a nun, 
 
 Call'd Millicent of Edmonton. 50 
 
 Nun. Holy man, repose you there ,* 
 
 This news I '11 to our Abbess bear, 
 
 To tell her what a man is sent. 
 
 And your message and intent. 
 37
 
 ACT III. sc. 2. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Ray. Benedicite. 
 
 Nun. Benedicite. \_Exit. 
 
 Ray. Do, my good plump wench ; if all fall right, 
 I '11 make your sisterhood one less by night. 
 Now happy fortune speed this merry drift, 
 I like a wench comes roundly to her shrift. 60 
 
 Enter Lady and MiUicent. 
 
 L. Dor. Have friars recourse then to the house of nuns ? 
 Mil. Madam, it is the order of this place. 
 
 When any virgin comes for approbation, — 
 
 Lest that for fear or sinister practice 
 
 She should be forc'd to undergo this veil. 
 
 Which should proceed from conscience and de- 
 votion, — 
 
 A visitor is sent from Waltham House, 
 
 To take the true confession of the maid. 
 Z. Dor. Is that the order? I commend it well : 
 
 You to your shrift, I "11 back unto the cell. \^Exii. 
 Ray. Life of my soul ! bright angel ! 71 
 
 Mil. What means the friar ? 
 Ray. O Millicent, 'tis L 
 Mil. My heart misgives me ; I should know that voice. 
 
 You? who are you? the Holy Virgin bless me ! 
 
 Tell me your name : you shall, ere you confess me. 
 Ray. Mounchensey, thy true friend. 
 Mil. My Raymond, my dear heart I 
 
 Sweet life, give leave to my distracted soul, 
 38
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act hi. sc. 2. 
 
 To wake a little from this swoon of joy. 80 
 
 By what means cam'st thou to assume this shape ? 
 
 Ray. By means of Peter Fabell, my kind tutor, 
 Who in the habit of Friar Hildersham, 
 Frank Jerningham's old friend and confessor, 
 Plotted by Frank, by Fabell and myself. 
 And so delivered to Sir Arthur Clare, 
 Who brought me here unto the Abbey gate. 
 To be his nun-made daughter's visitor. 
 
 Mil. You are all sweet traitors to my poor old father. 
 
 my dear life ! I was a-dream'd to-night 90 
 That, as I was a-praying in mine Psalter, 
 
 There came a spirit unto me as I kneel'd. 
 
 And by his strong persuasions tempted me 
 
 To leave this nunnery : and methought 
 
 He came in the most glorious angel-shape. 
 
 That mortal eye did ever look upon. 
 
 Ha, thou art sure that spirit, for there 's no form 
 
 Is in mine eye so glorious as thine own. 
 
 Ray. O thou idolatress, that dost this worship 
 
 To him whose likeness is but praise of thee ! 100 
 Thou bright, unsetting star, which through this veil, 
 For very envy, mak'st the sun look pale ! 
 
 Mil. Well, visitor, lest that perhaps my mother 
 Should think the friar too strict in his decrees, 
 
 1 this confess to my sweet ghostly father : 
 If chaste pure love be sin, I must confess, 
 
 I have offended three years now with thee. 
 39
 
 ACT III. sc. 2. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Ray. But do you yet repent you of the same ? 
 
 Mil. V faith, I cannot. 
 
 Ray. Nor will I absolve thee 
 
 Of that sweet sin, though it be venial ; no 
 
 Yet have the penance of a thousand kisses, 
 
 And I enjoin you to this pilgrimage : 
 
 That in the evening you bestow yourself 
 
 Here in the walk near to the willow ground, 
 
 Where I '11 be ready both with men and horse 
 
 To wait your coming, and convey you hence 
 
 Unto a lodge I have in Enfield Chase. 
 
 No more reply, if that you yield consent — 
 
 I see more eyes upon our stay are bent. 119 
 
 Mil. Sweet life, farewell ! 'Tis done : let that suffice ; 
 What my tongue fails, I send thee by mine eyes. 
 
 \Exit. 
 
 Enter Fabell, Clare, and Jerningham. 
 
 Y. Jer. Now, visitor, how does this new-made nun ? 
 
 Y. Cla. Come, come, how does she, noble Capuchin ? 
 
 Ray. She may be poor in spirit, but for the flesh, 
 'Tis fat and plump, boys. Ah, rogues, there is 
 A company of girls would turn you all friars. 
 
 Fab. But how, Mounchensey, how, lad, for the wench ? 
 
 Ray. Zounds, lads, i' faith, I thank my holy habit, 
 
 I have confessed her, and the Lady Prioress 129 
 Hath given me ghostly counsel with her blessing. 
 40
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act hi. sc. a. 
 
 And how say ye, boys, 
 
 If I be chose the weekly visitor? 
 
 y. Cla. 'Sblood, she '11 have ne'er a nun unbag'd to sing 
 mass then. 
 
 Y.Jer. The Abbot of Waltham will have as many chil- 
 dren to put to nurse as he has calves in the marsh. 
 
 Ray. Well, to be brief, the nun will soon at night turn 
 tippet ; if I can but devise to quit her cleanly of the 
 nunnery, she is mine own. 
 
 Fab. But, sirrah Raymond, 140 
 
 What news of Peter Fabell at the house ? 
 
 Ray. Tush, he 's the only man ; a necromancer and a 
 conjurer that works for young Mounchensey alto- 
 gether ; and if it be not for Friar Benedick, that 
 he can cross him by his learned skill, the wench is 
 gone ; Fabell will fetch her out by very magic. 
 
 Fab. Stands the wind there, boy ? Keep them in that 
 key, 
 The wench is ours before to-morrow day. 
 Well, Harry and Frank, as ye are gentlemen, 
 Stick to us close this once ! You know your fathers 
 Have men and horse lie ready still at Cheston, 151 
 To watch the coast be clear, to scout about, 
 And have an eye unto Mounchensey's walks : 
 Therefore you two may hover thereabouts. 
 And no man will suspect you for the matter ; 
 Be ready but to take her at our hands, 
 Leave us to scamble for her getting out. 
 41
 
 ACT III. sc. 2. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Y.Jer. 'Sblood, if all Hertfordshire were at our heels, 
 
 We'll carry her away in spite of them. 
 Y. Cla. But whither, Raymond ? i6o 
 
 Ray. To Brian's upper lodge in Enfield Chase ; 
 
 He is mine honest friend and a tall keeper ; 
 
 I'll send my man unto him presently 
 
 T' acquaint him with your coming and intent. 
 Fab. Be brief and secret ! 
 Ray. Soon at night remember 
 
 You bring your horses to the willow ground. 
 Y.Jer. 'Tis done ; no more ! 
 Y. Cla. We will not fail the hour. 
 
 My life and fortune now lies in your power. 
 Fab. About our business ! Raymond, let's away ! 
 
 Think of your hour ; it draws well off the day. 170 
 
 \Exeunt. 
 
 42
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act iv. sc. i. 
 
 ACT IV 
 
 SCENE I 
 Enter Blague^ Ba7iks^ Smug, and Sir John, 
 
 Host. Come, ye Hungarian pilchers, we are once more 
 come under the zona torrida of the forest. Let 's be 
 resolute, let 's fly to and again ; and if the devil 
 come, we '11 put him to his interrogatories, and not 
 budge a foot. What ? 'Sfoot, I '11 put fire into you, 
 ye shall all three serve the good Duke of Norfolk. 
 
 S?nug. Mine host, my bully, my precious consul, my noble 
 Holofernes, I have been drunk i' thy house twenty 
 times and ten ; all 's one for that : I was last night 
 in the third heavens, my brain was poor, it had 
 yeast in 't ; but now I am a man of action ; is 't not 
 so, lad.? 12 
 
 Banks. Why, now thou hast two of the liberal sciences 
 about thee, wit and reason, thou may'st serve the 
 Duke of Europe. 
 
 Smug. I will serve the Duke of Christendom, and do 
 him more credit in his cellar than all the plate in 
 his buttery ; is 't not so, lad ? 
 43
 
 ACT IV. sc. I. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Sir John. Mine host and Smug, stand there ; Banks, 
 you and your horse keep together ; but lie close, 
 show no tricks, for fear of the keeper. If we be 
 scared, we '11 meet in the church porch at Enfield. 
 
 Smug. Content, Sir John. 23 
 
 Banks. Smug, dost not thou remember the tree thou 
 fell'st out of last night ? 
 
 Smug. Tush, an 't had been as high as the x\bbey, I 
 should ne'er have hurt myself ; I have fallen into 
 the river, coming home from Waltham, and "scaped 
 drowning. 
 
 Sir John. Come, sever, fear no spirits ! We '11 have a 
 buck presently ; we have watched later than this 
 for a doe, mine host, 32 
 
 Host. Thou speak'st as true as velvet. 
 
 Sir John. Why then, come ! Grass and hay, etc. 
 
 \_Exeunt. 
 
 Enter Clare., Jerm7ighain^ and Milliccnt. 
 
 V. eta. Frank Jerningham ! 
 
 V.Jer. Speak softly, rogue ; how now? 
 
 V. Cla. 'Sfoot, we shall lose our way, it's so dark ; 
 whereabouts are we ? 
 
 Y.Jer. Why, man, at Potter's gate ; the way lies right : 
 hark! the clock strikes at Enfield; what's the 
 hour? 41 
 
 Y. Cla. Ten, the bell says. 
 
 44
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act iv. sc. x. 
 
 Y.Jer. A lie's in's throat, it was but eight when we set 
 out of Cheston. Sir John and his sexton are at 
 ale to-night, the clock runs at random, 
 
 Y. Cla. Nay, as sure as thou liv'st, the villanous vicar 
 is abroad in the Chase this dark night : the stone 
 priest steals more venison than half the country. 
 
 Y.Jer. Millicent, how dost thou ? 
 
 Mil. Sir, very well. 
 
 I would to God we were at Brian's lodge. 50 
 
 Y. Cla. We shall anon ; zounds, hark ! what means 
 this noise ? 
 
 Y. Jer. Stay, I hear horsemen. 
 
 Y. Cla. I hear footmen too. 
 
 Y.Jer. Nay, then I have it : we have been discovered. 
 And we are followed by our fathers' men. 
 
 Mil. Brother and friend, alas, what shall we do ? 
 
 Y. Cla. Sister, speak softly, or we are descried. 
 They are hard upon us, whatsoe'er they be ; 
 Shadow yourself behind this brake of fern, 
 We'll get into the wood, and let them pass. 
 
 Enter Sir John, Blague, Smug, and Ba?iks, 
 one after another. 
 
 Sir John. Grass and hay ! we are all mortal ; the 
 keeper's abroad, and there's an end. 61 
 
 Banks. Sir John ! 
 
 Sir John. Neighbour Banks, what news ? 
 45
 
 ACT IV. sc. I. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Banks. Zwounds, Sir John, the keepers are abroad ; I 
 was hard by 'em. 
 
 Sir John. Grass and hay ! where 's mine host Blague ? 
 
 Host. Here, Metropolitan. The Philistines are upon us, 
 be silent ; let us serve the good Duke of Norfolk. 
 But where is Smug? 69 
 
 Smug. Here ; a pox on ye all, dogs ; I have killed the 
 greatest buck in Brian's walk. Shift for yourselves, 
 all the keepers are up. Let's meet in Enfield 
 church porch ; away, we are all taken else. 
 
 [^Exeunt. 
 
 Enter Brian, ivith Ralph, his man, and his hound. 
 
 Bri. Ralph, hear'st thou any stirring ? 
 
 Ralph. I heard one speak here hard by, in the bottom. 
 
 Peace, master, speak low ; zounds, if I did not hear 
 
 a bow go off, and the buck bray, I never heard deer 
 
 in my life. 
 Bri. When went your fellows out into their walks ? 
 Ralph. An hour ago. 80 
 
 Bri. 'Slife, is there stealers abroad, and they cannot 
 hear 
 
 Of them : where the devil are my men to-night ? 
 
 Sirrah, go up the wind towards Buckley's lodge ! 
 
 I '11 cast about the bottom with my hound, 
 
 And I will meet thee under coney oak. 
 Ralph. I will, sir. 
 
 46
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act iv. sc. x, 
 
 Bri. How now? by the mass, my hound stays upon 
 something ; 
 
 Hark, hark, Bowman, hark, hark, there ! 
 Mil. Brother, Frank Jerningham, brother Clare ! 
 Bri. Peace; that's a woman's voice! Stand! who's 
 there ? 90 
 
 Stand, or I '11 shoot. 
 Mil. O Lord ! hold your hands, I mean no harm, sir. 
 Bri. Speak, who are you ? 
 Mil. I am a maid, sir ; who ? Master Brian ? 
 Bri. The very same ; sure, I should know her voice ; 
 
 Mistress Millicent? 
 Mil. Ay, it is I, sir. 
 Bri. God for his passion ! what make you here alone ? 
 
 I looked for you at my lodge an hour ago. 
 
 What means your company to leave you thus ? 100 
 
 Who brought you hither? 
 Mil. My brother, sir, and Master Jerningham, 
 
 Who, hearing folks about us in the Chase, 
 
 Feared it had been Sir Ralph and my father, 
 
 Who had pursued us, thus dispersed ourselves, 
 
 Till they were past us. 
 Bri. But where be they ? 
 Mil. They be not far off, here about the grove. 
 
 Enter Clare and Jerningham. 
 
 Y. Cla. Be not afraid ! man, I heard Brian's tongue, 
 That's certain. no 
 
 47
 
 ACT IV. sc. I. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 V. Jer. Call softly for your sister. 
 
 Y. Cla. Millicent ! 
 
 Mil. Ay, brother, here. 
 
 Bri. Master Clare ! 
 
 Y. Cla. I told you it was Brian. 
 
 Bri. Who's that? Master Jerningham? You are a 
 couple of hot-shots ; does a man commit his wench 
 to you, to put her to grass at this time of night ? 
 
 Y. Jer. We heard a noise about here in the Chase, 
 
 And fearing that our fathers had pursued us, 120 
 Severed ourselves. 
 
 Y. Cla. Brian, how happ'd'st thou on her ? 
 
 Bri. Seeking for stealers are abroad to-night, 
 
 My hound stay'd on her, and so found her out. 
 
 Y. Cla. They were these stealers that affrighted us ; 
 I was hard upon them, when they hors'd their deer, 
 And I perceive they took me for a keeper. 
 
 Bri. Which way took they ? 
 
 Y.Jer. Towards Enfield. 
 
 Bri. A plague upon't, that's that damned priest, and 
 Blague of the George — he that serves the good 
 Duke of Norfolk. 131 
 
 A noise within : Follow^ follow, follow. 
 
 Y. Cla. Peace, that 's my father's voice. 
 
 Bri. Zounds, you suspected them, and now they are 
 
 here indeed. 
 Mil. Alas, what shall we do ? 
 48
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act iv. sc. r. 
 
 Bri. If you go to the lodge, you are surely taken ; 
 Strike down the wood to Enfield presently, 
 And if Mounchensey come, I '11 send him t' ye. 
 Let me alone to bustle with your fathers ; 
 I warrant you that I will keep them play 140 
 
 Till you have quit the Chase ; away, away ! 
 
 \Exeunt all but Brian. 
 Who 's there ? 
 
 Enter the Knights. 
 
 Sir Ralph. In the king's name, pursue the ravisher ! 
 
 Bri. Stand, or I '11 shoot. 
 
 Sir Ar. Who 's there ? 
 
 Bri. I am the keeper that do charge you stand ; 
 
 You have stolen my deer. 
 Sir Ar. We stolen thy deer ? we do pursue a thief. 
 Bri. You are arrant thieves, and ye have stolen my 
 
 deer. 
 Sir Ralph. We are knights ; Sir Arthur Clare, and Sir 
 
 Ralph Jerningham. 151 
 
 Bri. The more your shame, that knights should be such 
 
 thieves. 
 Sir Ar. Who or what art thou ? 
 Bri. My name is Brian, keeper of this walk. 
 Sir Ralph. O Brian, a villain ! 
 
 Thou hast receiv'd my daughter to thy lodge. 
 Bri. You have stolen the best deer in my walk to-night. 
 
 My deer ! 
 
 49
 
 ACT IV. sc. 2. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Sir Ar. My daughter ! 
 Stop not my way ! 
 
 Bn'. What make you in my walk ? 
 
 You have stolen the best buck in my walk to-night. 
 
 Sir Ar. My daughter ! 
 
 Bri. My deer ! 
 
 Sir Ar. Where is Mounchensey? 
 
 Bri. Where 's my buck ? 
 
 Sir Ar. I will complain me of thee to the king. 
 
 Bri. I '11 complain unto the king you spoil his game : 
 'Tis strange that men of your account and calling 
 Will offer it ! 171 
 
 I tell you true, Sir Arthur and Sir Ralph, 
 That none but you have only spoiled my game. 
 
 Sir Ar. I charge you, stop us not ! 
 
 Bri. I charge you both ye get out of my ground ! 
 Is this a time for such as you, 
 Men of your place and of your gravity, 
 To be abroad a-thieving ? 'Tis a shame ; 
 And, afore God, if I had shot at you, 
 I had served you well enough. {^Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II 
 
 Enter Banks the Miller, wet oji his legs. 
 
 Banks. 'Sfoot, here's a dark night indeed ! I think I 
 have been in fifteen ditches between this and the 
 forest. Soft, here 's Enfield Church : I am so wet 
 50
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act iv. sc. 2. 
 
 with climbing over into an orchard for to steal some 
 filberts. Well, here I '11 sit in the church porch, 
 and wait for the rest of my consort. 
 
 Enter the Sexton. 
 
 Sex. Here's a sky as black as Lucifer, God bless us! 
 Here was goodman Theophilus buried ; he was the 
 best nutcracker that ever dwelt in Enfield. Well, 
 'tis nine o'clock, 'tis time to ring curfew. Lord bless 
 us, what a white thing is that in the church porch ! 
 
 Lord, my legs are too weak for my body, my hair 
 is too stiff for my nightcap, my heart fails ; this is 
 the ghost of Theophilus. O Lord, it follows me ! 
 
 1 cannot say my prayers, an one would give me a 
 thousand pound. Good spirit, I have bowled and 
 drunk and followed the hounds with you a thousand 
 times, though I have not the spirit now to deal with 
 you. O Lord ! 19 
 
 Enter Priest. -^ 
 
 Sir John. Grass and hay ! we are all mortal. Who 's 
 
 there ? 
 Sex. We are grass and hay indeed ; I know you to be 
 
 Master Parson by your phrase. 
 Sir John. Sexton ! 
 Sex. Ay, sir I 
 SirJoh?i. For mortality's sake, what 's the matter ? 
 
 D 51
 
 ACT IV. sc. 2. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Sex. O Lord, I am a man of another element ; Master 
 Theophilus' ghost is in the church porch. There 
 v.-as a hundred cats, all fire, dancing here even now, 
 and they clomb up to the top of the steeple ; I '11 not 
 into the belfry for a world. 31 
 
 Sir John. O good Solomon; I have been about a deed of 
 darkness to-night : O Lord, I saw fifteen spirits in 
 the forest like white bulls ; if I lie, I am an arrant 
 thief : mortality haunts us — grass and hay ! the 
 devil's at our heels, and let's hence to the parsonage. 
 
 \_Exeu7jt. 
 [ The Miller comes out very softly. 
 
 Banks. What noise was that ? 'Tis the watch, sure ; 
 that villanous unlucky rogue. Smug, is ta'en, upon 
 my life ; and then all our villany comes out ; I 
 heard one cr}', sure. 40 
 
 Enter Host Blague. 
 
 Host. If I go steal any more venison, I am a paradox ! 
 'Sfoot, I can scarcely bear the sin of my flesh in the 
 day, 'tis so heavy ; if I turn not honest and serve 
 the good Duke of Norfolk, as true mareterraneum 
 skinker should do, let me never look higher than 
 the element of a constable. 
 
 Banks. By the Lord, there are some watchmen ; I hear 
 them name Master Constable ; I would to God my 
 mill were an eunuch, and wanted her stones, so I 
 
 were hence 50 
 
 52
 
 i he Merry Devil of Edmonton act iv. sc. 2. 
 
 Host. Who's there? 
 
 Banks. 'Tis the constable, by this light ; I '11 steal hence, 
 and if I can meet mine host Blague, I '11 tell how 
 Smug is ta'en, and will him to look to himself. 
 
 lExit. 
 
 Host. What the devil is that white thing ? this same is 
 a churchyard, and I have heard that ghosts and 
 villanous goblins have been seen here. 
 
 Enter Sexton aitd Priest. 
 
 Sir John. Grass and hay ! O that I could conjure ! We 
 saw a spirit here in the churchyard ; and in the 
 fallow field there 's the devil with a man's body upon 
 his back in a white sheet. 6i 
 
 Sex. It may be a woman's body, Sir John. 
 
 Sir J aim. If she be a woman, the sheets damn her ; 
 Lord bless us, what a night of mortahty is this ! 
 
 Host. Priest ! 
 
 Sir John. Mine host ! 
 
 Host. Did you not see a spirit all in white cross you at 
 the stile ? 
 
 Sex. O no, mine host : but there sat one in the porch ; 
 I have not breath enough left to bless me from the 
 devil. 71 
 
 Host. Who's that? 
 
 Sir John. The sexton, almost frighted out of his wits. 
 Did you see Banks or Smug? 
 
 Host, No, they are gone to Waltham, sure. I would 
 53
 
 ACT IV. sc. z. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 fain hence; come, let's to my house: I'll ne'er 
 serve the Duke of Norfolk in this fashion again 
 whilst I breathe. If the devil be amongst us, 'tis 
 time to hoist sail, and cry roomer. Keep together ; 
 sexton, thou art secret. What ! let 's be comfort- 
 able one to another. 8i 
 
 Sir John. We are all mortal, mine host. 
 
 Host. True ; and I '11 serve God in the night hereafter 
 afore the Duke of Norfolk, \ Exeunt. 
 
 U
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act v. sc. x. 
 
 ACT V 
 
 SCENE I 
 
 Enter Sir Arthur Clare and Sir Ralph Jerninghajn^ 
 trussing their points as new up. 
 
 Sir Ralph. Good morrow, gentle knight. 
 
 A happy day after your short night's rest ! 
 Sir Ar. Ha, ha, Sir Ralph, stirring so soon indeed? 
 
 By'r Lady, sir, rest would have done right well ; 
 
 Our riding late last night has made me drowsy. 
 
 Go to, go to, those days are gone with us. 
 Sir Ralph. Sir Arthur, Sir Arthur, care go with those 
 days, 
 
 Let 'em even go together, let 'em go ! 
 
 'Tis time, i' faith, that we were in our graves, 
 
 When children leave obedience to their parents, lo 
 
 When there 's no fear of God, no care, no duty. 
 
 Well, well, nay, nay, it shall not do, it shall not ; 
 
 No, Mounchensey, thou 'It hear on't, thou shalt, 
 
 Thou shalt i' faith ! 
 
 I '11 hang thy son, if there be law in England. 
 
 A man's child ravish'd from a nunnery ! 
 55
 
 ACT V. sc. I. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 This is rare ! 
 
 Well, well, there 's one gone to Friar Hildersham. 
 
 Sir Ar. Nay, gentle knight, do not vex thus, it will but 
 hurt your health. You cannot grieve more than I 
 do, but to what end ? But hark you. Sir Ralph, I 
 was about to say something — it makes no matter. 
 But hark you in your ear : the Friar's a knave : but 
 God forgive me, a man cannot tell neither ; 'sfoot, 
 I am so out of patience, I know not what to say. 
 
 Sir Ralph. There 's one went for the Friar an hour ago. 
 Comes he not yet ? 'Sfoot, if I do find knavery 
 under 's cowl, I '11 tickle him, I '11 firk him. Here, 
 here, he's here, he's here. Good morrow, Friar; 
 good morrow, gentle Friar. 30 
 
 Enter Hildersham, 
 
 SirAr. Good morrow. Father Hildersham, good morrow. 
 Hil. Good morrow, reverend knights, unto you both. 
 Sir Ar. Father, how now ? you hear how matters go ; 
 
 I am undone, my child is cast away. 
 
 You did your best, at least I think the best ; 
 
 But we are all cross'd ; flatly, all is dash'd. 
 Hil. Alas, good knights ! how might the matter be ? 
 
 Let me understand your grief for charity. 
 Sir Ar. Who does not understand my griefs .'' Alas, 
 alas ! 
 
 And yet ye do not ! Will the Church permit 40 
 56
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act v. sc. i. 
 
 A nun in approbation of her habit 
 
 To be ravished ? 
 Hil. A holy woman, benedicite ! 
 
 Now God forfend that any should presume 
 
 To touch the sister of a holy house. 
 Sir Ar. Jesus deliver me ! 
 Sir Ralph. Why, Millicent, the daughter of this knight, 
 
 Is out of Cheston taken the last night. 
 Hil. Was that fair maiden late become a nun ? 49 
 
 Sir Ralph. Was she, quotha? Knavery, knavery, 
 
 knavery ; I smell it, I smell it, i' faith ; is the wind 
 
 in that door ? is it even so } dost thou ask me that 
 
 now } 
 Hil. It is the first time that I e'er heard of it. 
 Sir Ar. That's very strange. 
 Sir Ralph. W^hy, tell me. Friar, tell me ; thou art 
 
 counted a holy man ; do not play the hypocrite with 
 
 me, nor bear with me. I cannot dissemble. Did I 
 
 aught but by thy own consent, by thy allowance, 
 
 nay, further, by thy warrant .'' 60 
 
 Hil. Why, reverend Knight 
 
 Sir Ralph. Unreverend Friar 
 
 Hil. Nay, then give me leave, sir, to depart in quiet ; I 
 
 had hoped you had sent for me to some other end. 
 Sir Ar. Nay, stay, good Friar ; if anything hath happ'd 
 
 About this matter in thy love to us, 
 
 That thy strict order cannot justify. 
 
 Admit it be so, we will cover it. 
 57
 
 ACT V. sc. I. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Take no care, man : 
 
 Disclaim not yet thy counsel and advice, 70 
 
 The wisest man that is may be o'erreached. 
 Hil. Sir Arthur, by my order and my faith, 
 
 I know not what you mean. 
 Sir Ralph. By your order and your faith ? 
 
 This is most strange of all. Why, tell me. Friar, 
 
 Are not you confessor to my son Frank ? 
 Hil. Yes, that I am. 
 Sir Ralph. And did not this good knight here and myself 
 
 Confess with you, being his ghostly Father, 
 
 To deal with him about th' unbanded marriage 80 
 
 Betwixt him and that fair young Millicent? 
 Hil. I never heard of any match intended. 
 Sir Ar. Did not we break our minds that very time. 
 
 That our device of making her a nun 
 
 Was but a colour and a very plot 
 
 To put by young ]\Iounchensey ? Is 't not true ? 
 Hil. The more I strive to know what you should mean, 
 
 The less I understand you. 
 Sir Ralph. Did not you tell us still how Peter Fabell 
 
 At length would cross us, if we took not heed ? 90 
 Hil. I have heard of one that is a great magician. 
 
 But he's about the university. 
 Sir Ralph. Did not you send your novice Benedick 
 
 To persuade the girl to leave ]Mounchensey's love, 
 
 To cross that Peter Fabell in his art. 
 
 And to that purpose made him visitor? 
 58
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act v. sc. i. 
 
 Hil. I never sent my novice from the house. 
 Nor have we made our visitation yet. 
 
 Sir Ar, Never sent him ? Nay, did he not go ? 
 
 And did not I direct him to the house, loo 
 
 And confer with him by the way ? and did he not 
 Tell me what charge he had received from you, 
 Word by word, as I requested at your hands ? 
 
 Hil. That you shall know ; he came along with me, 
 And stays without. Come hither, Benedick ! 
 
 Enter Benedick. 
 
 Young Benedick, were you e'er sent by me 
 
 To Cheston Nunnery for a visitor? 
 Ben. Never, sir, truly. 
 
 Sir Ralph. Stranger than all the rest ! 
 
 Sir Ar. Did not I direct you to the house? Confer 
 with you 
 
 From Waltham Abbey unto Cheston wall? no 
 
 Ben. I never saw you, sir, before this hour ! 
 Sir Ralph. The devil thou didst not ! Ho, chamber- 
 lain ! 
 
 Enter Chamberlain. 
 
 Cham. Anon, anon. 
 
 Sir Ralph. Call mine host Blague hither ! 
 Cham. I will send one over to see if he be up ; I think 
 he be scarce stirring yet. 
 59
 
 ACT V. sc. 2. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Sir Ralph. Why, knave, didst thou not tell me an hour 
 
 ago mine host was up ? 
 Cham. Ay, sir, my master 's up. 
 Sir Ralph. You knave, is a up, and is a not up ? Dost 
 
 thou mock me? I2i 
 
 Chai7i. Ay, sir, my master is up ; but I think Master 
 
 Blague indeed be not stirring. 
 Sir Ralph. Why, who 's thy master ? is not the master 
 
 of the house thy master? 
 Cham. Yes, sir ; but Master Blague dwells over the 
 
 way. 
 Sir Ar. Is not this the George ? Before God, there 's 
 
 some villany in this. 
 Chain. 'Sfoot, our sign 's remov'd ; this is strange ! 
 
 \Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II 
 
 Enter Blague^ trussing his points. 
 
 Host. Chamberlain, speak up to the new lodgings, bid 
 Nell look well to the baked meats ! 
 
 Enter Sir Arthur and Sir Ralph. 
 
 How now, my old jennets balk my house, my castle, 
 lie in Waltham all night, and not under the canopy 
 of your host Blague's house? 
 Sir Ar. Mine host, mine host, we lay all night at the 
 60
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act v. sc. z. 
 
 George in Waltham ; but whether the George be 
 your fee-simple or no, 'tis a doubtful question. 
 Look upon your sign I 9 
 
 Host. Body of Saint George, this is mine overthwart 
 neighbour hath done this to seduce my bHnd cus- 
 tomers. I '11 tickle his catastrophe for this ; if I do 
 not indict him at next assizes for burglary, let me 
 die of the yellows ; for I see 'tis no boot in these 
 days to serve the good Duke of Norfolk. The 
 villanous world is turned manger ; one jade de- 
 ceives another, and your ostler plays his part com- 
 monly for the fourth share. Have we comedies in 
 hand, you whoreson, villanous male London lecher? 
 
 Sir Ar. Mine host, we have had the moiling'st night of 
 it that ever we had in our lives. 21 
 
 Host. Is't certain? 
 
 Sir Ralph. We have been in the forest all night almost. 
 
 Host. 'Sfoot, how did I miss you ? Heart, I was a-steal- 
 ing a buck there. 
 
 Sir Ar. A plague on you ; we were stayed for you. 
 
 Host. Were you, my noble Romans? Why, you shall, 
 share ; the venison is a-footing. Sine Cerere et 
 Baccho friget Venus ; that is, there's a good break- 
 fast provided for a marriage that 's in my house this 
 morning. 31 
 
 Sir Ar. A marriage, mine host? 
 
 Host. 'Tis firm, 'tis done. We'll show you a precedent 
 i' the civil law for 't. 
 61
 
 ACT V. sc. 2. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Sir Ralph. How? married? 
 
 Host. Leave tricks and admiration. There 's a cleanly 
 pair of sheets in the bed in the orchard chamber, 
 and they shall lie there. What? Til do it; I'll 
 serve the good Duke of Norfolk. 
 
 Sir Ar. Thou shalt repent this, Blague. 40 
 
 Sir Ralph. If any law in England will make thee smart 
 for this, expect it with all severity. 
 
 Host. I renounce your defiance, if you parle so roughly. 
 I '11 barracado my gates against you. Stand fair, 
 bully ; Priest, come off from the rearward ! What 
 can you say now ? 'Twas done in my house ; I 
 have shelter i' th' court for 't. D' ye see yon bay 
 window? I serve the good Duke of Norfolk, and 
 'tis his lodging. Storm, I care not, serving the 
 good Duke of Norfolk. Thou art an actor in this, 
 and thou shalt carry fire in thy face eternally. 5 1 
 
 E7iter Sfmcg, Mounche?tsey, Harry Clare, and Millicent. 
 
 S7nug. Fire, 'sblood, there's no fire in England like 
 
 your Trinidado sack. Is any man here humorous? 
 
 We stole the venison, and we'll justify it : say you 
 
 now ! 
 Host. In good sooth. Smug, there's more sack on the 
 
 fire, Smug. 
 Smug. I do not take any exceptions against your sack ; 
 62
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act v. sc. z. 
 
 but if you '11 lend me a pike-staff, I '11 cudgel them 
 all hence, by this hand. 
 
 Host. I say thou shalt into the cellar. 6i 
 
 Smug. 'Sfoot, mine host, shall's not grapple? Pray, 
 pray you ; I could fight now for all the world like 
 a cockatrice's Qgg. Shall 's not serve the Duke of 
 Norfolk ? [Exit. 
 
 Host. In, skipper, in ! 
 
 Sir Ar. Sirrah, hath young Mounchensey married your 
 sister? 
 
 Y. Cla. 'Tis certain, sir ; here 's the priest that coupled 
 them, the parties joined, and the honest witness 
 that cried Amen. 71 
 
 Ray. Sir Arthur Clare, my new created father, 
 I beseech you, hear me. 
 
 Sir Ar. Sir, sir, you are a foolish boy ; you have done 
 that you cannot answer ; I dare be bold to seize her 
 from you ; for she 's a professed nun. 
 
 Mil. With pardon, sir, that name is quite undone ; 
 This true love knot cancels both maid and nun. 
 When first you told me I should act that part, 
 How cold and bloody it crept o'er my heart ! 80 
 To Cheston with a smiling brow I went ; 
 But yet, dear sir, it was to this intent. 
 That my sweet Raymond might find better means 
 To steal me thence. In brief, disguised he 
 
 came. 
 Like novice to old Father Hildersham : 
 63
 
 ACT V. sc. 2. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 His tutor here did act that cunning part, 
 And in our love hath joined much wit to art. 
 
 Sir Ar. Is 't even so ? 
 
 Mil. With pardon therefore we entreat your smiles ; 
 Love, thwarted, turns itself to thousand wiles. 90 
 
 Sir Ar. Young Master Jerningham, were you an actor 
 In your own love's abuse? 
 
 Y. Jer. My thoughts, good sir, 
 
 Did labour seriously unto this end, 
 To wrong myself, ere I 'd abuse my friend. 
 
 Host. He speaks like a bachelor of music, all in num- 
 bers. Knights, if I had known you would have let 
 this covey of partridges sit thus long upon their 
 knees under my sign-post, I would have spread my 
 door with old coverlids. 99 
 
 Sir Ar. Well, sir, for this your sign was removed, was it ? 
 
 Host. Faith, we followed the directions of the devil, 
 Master Peter Fabell ; and Smug, Lord bless us 1 
 could never stand upright since. 
 
 Sir Ar. You, sir, 'twas you was his minister that mar- 
 ried them .'' 
 
 Sir John. Sir, to prove myself an honest man, being 
 that I was last night in the forest stealing venison 
 — now, sir, to have you stand my friend, if that 
 matter shouM be called in question, I married your 
 daughter to this worthy gentleman. no 
 
 Sir Ar. I may chance to requite you, and make your 
 neck crack for't. 
 
 64
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton act v. sc. z. 
 
 Sir John. If you do, I am as resolute as my neighbour 
 vicar of Waltham Abbey ; ahem, grass and hay ! 
 we are all mortal ; let's live till we be hang'd, mine 
 host, and be merry ; and there 's an end. 
 
 Enter Fabell. 
 
 Fab, Now, knights, I enter ; now my part begins. 
 To end this difference, know, at first I knew 
 What you intended, ere your love took flight 119 
 From old Mounchensey ; you. Sir Arthur Clare, 
 Were minded to have married this sweet beauty 
 To young Frank Jerningham ; to cross which 
 
 match, 
 I used some pretty sleights ; but I protest 
 Such as but sat upon the skirts of art ; 
 No conjurations, nor such weighty spells 
 As tie the soul to their performancy. 
 These for his love, who once was my dear pupil, 
 Have I effected. Now, methinks, 'tis strange 
 That you, being old in wisdom, should thus knit 
 Your forehead on this match, since reason fails ; 
 No law can curb the lover's rash attempt ; 131 
 
 Years, in resisting this, are sadly spent. 
 Smile, then, upon your daughter and kind son, 
 And let our toil to future ages prove, 
 The Devil of Edmonton did good in love. 
 
 Sir Ar. Well, 'tis in vain to cross the providence ; 
 65
 
 ACT V. sc. 2. The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Dear son, I take thee up into my heart ; 
 Rise, daughter ; this is a kind father's part. 
 
 Host, Why, Sir John, send for Spindle's noise, pre- 
 sently : ha, ere't be night, I '11 serve the good Duke 
 of Norfolk. 141 
 
 Sir John. Grass and hay ! mine host, let 's live till we 
 die, and be merry ; and there 's an end. 
 
 Sir Ar. What, is breakfast ready, mine host ? 
 
 Host. 'Tis, my little Hebrew. 
 
 Sir Ar. Sirrah, ride straight to Cheston Nunnery, 
 Fetch thence my lady ; the house, I know, 
 By this time misses their young votary. 
 Come, knights, let's in 1 
 
 Bil. I will go to horse presently, sir. — A plague a my 
 lady, I shall miss a good breakfast. Smug, how 
 chance you cut so plaguily behind, Smug? 152 
 
 Smug. Stand away, I '11 founder you else. 
 
 Bil. Farewell, Smug, thou art in another element. 
 
 Smug. I will be by and by ; I will be Saint George 
 again. 
 
 Sir Ar. Take heed the fellow do not hurt himself. 
 
 Sir Ralph. Did we not last night find two St. Georges 
 here? 
 
 Fab. Yes, knights, this martialist was one of them. 
 
 Y. Cla. Then thus conclude your night of merriment ! 
 
 \Exeunt omnes. 
 
 66
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 A, he ; iv. i. 43 ; v. i. 120. Cf. 
 Henry V., 11. iii. 16. 
 
 Affected, inclined, disposed to 
 like ; i. ii. 38. 
 
 A-FOOTiNG, on the way, in prepara- 
 tion ; V. ii. 28.^ 
 
 And, an, if; 11. i. 2 ; iv. ii. 15. 
 
 Art, magic ; Ind. 76 ; i. ii. 55 ; iii. 
 135 ; V. ii. 124. 
 
 Attournment, in law, an assigna- 
 tion or transference, whether of 
 property or allegiance ; i. ii. 21. 
 
 Balk, shy at, avoid ; v. ii. 3. 
 Murray's Dictionary quotes from 
 Bishop Hall : ' Jericho was in his 
 way from Galilee to Jerusalem : 
 he balks it not, though it were out- 
 wardly accursed.' 
 
 Boot, avail ; v. ii. 14. 
 
 BosONiANS, needy ones, beggars. 
 Cf. 2 Henry IV., \.ni. 11-2. 'The 
 word comes from the Italian bi- 
 sogno, need, want ' (Warnke and 
 Proescholdt). 
 
 Brangled, confused, rendered un- 
 certain ; a phonetic variant of 
 brattle, from Fr. branler, to shake 
 (Murray's Dictionary^ \ n. ii. 6. 
 
 Break, open, disclose ; v. i. 83. 
 
 Brined, briny ; i. iii. 23. 
 
 Busk, the wood or whalebone in 
 the corset, and hence the corset 
 itself; III. i. 32. 
 
 Cane-tobacco, cigars ; 
 E 
 
 70. 
 
 Murray's Dictionary shows that 
 the word cane was applied to 
 anything cylindrical in shape. 
 
 Canvasadoes, another form of can- 
 vass, examination ; i. i. 38. 
 
 Catastrophe, tail (burlesque) ; 11. 
 i. 8 ; V. ii. 12. Cf. 2 Henry /V., 
 ii. i. 58. _ ^ 
 
 Colour, disguise ; i. iii. 77 ; v. i. 
 85. 
 
 Conjure, expel evil spirits; iv. ii. 
 58. 
 
 Consort, band, company ; 11. i. 50 ; 
 IV. ii. 6. Cf. ■K'ing Lear, 11. i. 
 97- 
 
 Correspondent, suitable, i. i. 10 ; 
 agreeable to inclination, 11. i. 63. 
 In both cases the word is used 
 by the host, and has to be inter- 
 preted by the context. 
 
 Cross, to thwart ; i. iii. 27. Cf. 
 Julius CcEsar, v. i. 19. 
 
 Cut, n., a common horse ; i. iii. 140. 
 See note. 
 
 Cut, v., strike sharply ; v. ii. 152. 
 
 Discontinuance, break, delay; i. 
 ii. 20. There is a reference to the 
 legal use of the word, a discontinu- 
 ance of possession or of plea, neces- 
 sitating a fresh process or a new 
 writ to take it up again. 
 
 Dossers, panniers, baskets carried 
 on the back ; i. iii. 141 ; from 
 the Latin dorsum. Cf. Chaucer, 
 Hous 0/ Fame, 1940. 
 
 67
 
 GLOSSARY The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 Dow AGE, dowry; i. iii. 7. 
 
 Drift, intention, purpose ; iii. ii. 
 
 SQ. Cf. Hamlet, ii.i. 37. 
 Dumps, melancholy airs ; i. iii. 31. 
 
 Cf. Much Ado, II. iii. 66. 
 
 Fadge, go on, proceed; 11. ii. 81. 
 
 Cf. Tiuelfth Night, 11. ii. 31. 
 Fellows, companions ; iv. i. 79. 
 FiRK, beat ; v. i. 28. Cf. Henry V., 
 
 IV. iv. 28. 
 Frolic, adj., joyful ; i. ii. 49. Cf. 
 
 Midsumtner Night's Dream, V. 
 
 i. 376; Milton, V Allegro, 18. 
 
 Gear, matter ; i. iii. 59. Cf. Richard 
 
 III., I. iv. 150. 
 GoGMAGOGS, giants ; 11. 1. 68. This 
 
 use of the word is, as Warnke and 
 
 Proescholdt point out, suggested 
 
 by the statues of Gog and Magog 
 
 in the Guildhall, London. 
 
 Habit, garb ; in. ii. 83, 128 ; v. 1. 41. 
 
 Handful, a pa'm, four inches; 11. 
 ii. 86. Cf. Hudibras — 
 
 ' Of the lower end two handful 
 It had devoured, it was so manful. ' 
 
 Hollowness, treachery ; suggested 
 as a title to Coreb by Your Holi- 
 ness, applied to the Pope, In- 
 duction, 62. 
 
 Hoodman-blind, blind-man's-buff ; 
 I. iii. 52. 
 
 Hot-shots; iv. i. 117. Nares says 
 
 that hot-shots 'appear to have t, • r. •• 
 
 been a class of soldiers, perhaps ! Passion, gnef ; i.ii 
 skirmishers.' Pilcher, one who v 
 
 Hugger-mugger, secrecy ; i. iii. 
 59. Cf. Hamlet, iv. v. 81. 
 
 Hungarians, hungry ones, 11. i. 
 61 ; freebooters, iv. i. 1. Cf. 
 Merry Wives of Windsor, I. iii. 
 
 Huswife, hussy (to a maiden) ; 11. 
 ii. 76. 
 
 Interrogatories; questions, i. i. 
 38 ; IV. i. 4. There is a reference 
 likewise to the legal use of the 
 word, illustrated in the Merchant 
 of Venice, v. i. 298. 
 
 Jointure,^ property settled on a 
 woman in consideration of mar- 
 riage ; I. iii. 7. The expression in 
 the text is tautologous, jointure 
 simply repeating the idea in 
 doTvage. 
 
 Latins, Latin prayers ; iii. i. 42. 
 
 Leave, abandon ; v. i. 10 ; 94. 
 
 List, desire ; i. iii. 94. The word 
 is usually a verb, but in Othello, 
 II. i. 104, as here, it is a substantive. 
 
 Make, do; iv. i. 98. Cf. As You 
 
 Like It, I. i. 26. 
 Metropolitan, the president of a 
 
 body of bisliops, an archbishop ; 
 
 humorously used by the host of 
 
 the priest ; iv. i. 67. 
 Moiling'st, most laborious ; v.iL2o. 
 
 Noise, a company of musicians; v. ii. 
 139. Cf. 2 Henry IV., 11. iv. 11. 
 
 Overthwart, across the way ; v. 
 ii. 10. 
 
 Parle, conversation ; 11. iii. 9. Cf. 
 Hamlet, i. i. 62, where the 
 'parle' is an angry one. In the 
 present play, v. ii. 43, the word is 
 a verb. 
 
 "44. 
 
 wears a pilch or 
 garment of fur ; iv. i. i. See note. 
 
 Pretend, design; i. iii. 132. Cf. 
 Macbeth, 11. iv. 24. 
 
 Quean, wench; 11. ii. 11. 
 Quick, alive ; i. i. 89. 
 
 Release, in law, remission ol 
 claim, acquittance ; i. ii. 21. 
 
 68
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton glossary 
 
 Roomer, an old sea-term ; to oy 
 roomer means to give the order 
 to tack about before the wind ; iv. 
 ii. 79. 
 
 Safeguards, outer petticoats to 
 cover and protect inner and better 
 garments in traveUing ; i. i. stage 
 direction. 
 
 SCAMBLE, bustle, struggle ; derived 
 by Skeat from ex, campus ; ill. ii. 
 157. Cf. Ki7Lg- John, IV. iii. 146. 
 
 Sea-card, compass ; i. ii. 2s. 
 
 Shall 's, shall we; i. ii. 45; v. ii. 
 62. Cf. Abbott's Shakespearian 
 Grammar, 215. 
 
 Skeins (Irish), knives; 11. ii. 53. 
 
 Skinker, tapster ; iv. ii. 45. Cf. 
 I Henry IV., 11. iv. 22. 
 
 Skipper, 'a thoughtless young fel- 
 low ' (Warnke and Proescholdt) ; 
 V. ii. 66. Cf. Taming of the Shrew, 
 II. i. 331- 
 
 Slubber, spoil ; i. iii. 84. Cf. Mer- 
 chant of Venice', II. viii. 39. 
 
 Soars, soaring flights ; 11. ii. 56. 
 
 Springs, springalls ; i. iii. 87. Cf. 
 Spenser, Muiopotmos '. 
 
 ' The other Spring 
 A burning Teade above his head 
 did move.' 
 
 Stayed, stopped ; v. ii. 26. 
 Stays upon, stands at, scents ; iv. 
 
 i. 87, 123. 
 Still, constantly ; v. i. 8g. 
 Storm, be passionate ; v. ii. 49. 
 
 Taking, agitation ; 11. i. 42. Cf. 
 Merry Wives, III. iii. 158. 
 
 Tall, sturdy ; iii. ii. 162. 
 Tartarian, a stroller or gipsy ; i. 
 
 i. 10. Cf 'A Bohemian-Tartar,' 
 
 Merry Wives ; iv. v. 18. 
 Toys, trifles ; in. i. 32. 
 
 Unbag'd, not pregnant ; in. ii. 
 ! 133- 
 
 i Unbanded, not yet settled, merely 
 ' talked of; v. i. 80. Warnke and 
 Proescholdt unnecessarily conjec- 
 ture intended against all the pre- 
 vious editions. 
 
 Waste, waster, destroyer ; i. i. 6. 
 Will, order ; i. L 16 ; iv. ii. 54. 
 
 Yellows, jaundice, properly in 
 horses ; v. ii. 14, 
 
 69
 
 NOTES 
 
 Prologue. — In the earlier editions the play is not divided into 
 acts and scenes. I have adopted the divisions of Warnke and 
 Proescholdt. 
 
 5. We ring this round ; we encircle this theatre. The interior 
 of the Globe Theatre is referred to by Shakespeare in Henry V„ 
 Prologue 13, as ' this wooden O.' 
 
 19. His monument. Weever in his Funeral Afontiments speaks 
 of a monument in Edmonton Church exhibited as Fabell's, but 
 adds that it was without inscription. 
 
 36, Guarded with these sable sleights ; protected by the dark 
 devices of magic. 
 
 Induction. 16. This the hour. See for this contraction Abbott's 
 Shakespearian Grammar, 461. 
 
 32. The date of thy command; the period for which Fabell had 
 bought the services of the devil. 
 
 42 sqq. The sense is : O that this soul, so dear bought by the 
 Redeemer, should, by the pride of knowledge alone, wherein a 
 man seems so contemptible in the eyes of higher powers, lead him 
 down to hell. 
 
 79. Phaetonic flames. The expression seems meaningless if we 
 take the name Phaeton as referring to the well-known classical 
 story. But it is to be remembered that in post-Homeric writers 
 Phaethon was also a name for Helios, and that in Homer himself it 
 was an epithet of the sun-god. The passage would therefore mean 
 that time on earth comes to an end, unlike the flames of the sun, 
 which burn for ever. 
 
 70
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton notes 
 
 I. i. Stage direction. Blague ; the name, from the French 
 blague, indicates the braggart character of the host. 
 
 I. i. 4. It hath none of the four elements in it. The host talks 
 boastful nonsense. The room is not made of ordinary materials, 
 but constructed out of the centre or core of things. Correspondent, 
 below (10), is similarly used for its fine sound. 
 
 I. i. 31, Top and top-gallant ; under all sail, at full speed. 
 
 I. i. 44. Tend my good. This, the reading of the editions of 1608 
 and 1617, is preferable to the commoner reading, tend to. The 
 use of tend in this sense without to is rare, but cf. 2 Henry VI. , 
 I. i. 19S. Here and in a few other places where it seemed necessary 
 for clearness, I have introduced the stage direction, Aside. 
 
 I. i. 58. But there are crosses, wife. ' Clare first uses crosses in 
 the sense of disappointment, vexation ; in order to avert Millicent's 
 attention, he then speaks of crosses in the proper sense of the word, 
 and gives his whole speech such an obscure and unintelligible turn ' 
 that Millicent is puzzled (Warnke and Proescholdt). The pious 
 were accustomed to stop for prayer at places where crosses had 
 been set up. Cheston is now Cheshunt in Hertfordshire. 
 
 I. i. 71. His hawks devour, etc. This passage is hopelessly corrupt. 
 The reading in the te.xt is that of Hazlitt. Warnke and Proescholdt, 
 convinced with reason that it does not hit the true meaning, and 
 unable to offer any suggestion, revert to the unintelligible reading 
 of the old editions : — 
 
 ' His hawkes deuoure his fattest dogs, whilst simple, 
 His leanest curres eate his hounds carrion.' 
 
 HazUtt's reading has the advantage of giving a meaning, though 
 an unsatisfactory one. 
 
 I. i. 76. All's naught; all is ended, he is ruined. 
 
 I. i. 78. You'll see a flight, wife, shortly of his land; you will 
 soon see his land sold to pay his debts. 
 
 71
 
 NOTES The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 I. ii. I. Ostlers, you knaves and commanders, etc. The host's 
 words must not be pressed too hard for a meaning; but there 
 seems to be a burlesque reference to the 'Knights Commanders' 
 of a military order. 
 
 I. ii. 5. Via, used to quicken the attendants and make them 
 bustle about. Cf. Merchant of Venice, ii. ii. 9. 
 
 I. ii. 7. Knights of the subsidy ; mere knights of the shire, 
 knights whose business it is to vote money, not men of the old 
 warlike class. It is well known that the grants of Parliament in 
 the age of Elizabeth were given in ' subsidies.' 
 
 I. ii. 12. Without pressing the host's nonsense too hard, we may 
 probably detect in Giberalters a coinage from 'jibbing ' horses ; and 
 the blowing wind in the calves is a reference to the tricks of trade 
 whereby a poor animal is made to pass for one in good condition. 
 
 I. ii. 18. Your only blade ; a reference to the Bilboa blades sug- 
 gested by the speaker's name. 
 
 I. ii. 20. Discontinuayice, releases, orattotirnment. The use of legal 
 terms is a point of resemblance between this play and the plays of 
 Shakespeare. Here discontinuance is the significant word, the other 
 two being due to the overflow of the host's learning. See Glossary 
 
 I. ii. 24. My soldier of St Quentins. An English force under the 
 Earl of Pembroke was present, not at the battle of St Quentin's, 
 but at the subsequent storming of the town, 1557. 
 
 I. ii. 25. / have Charles' wain below ; wine as bright as the con- 
 stellation of Ursa Major. The astronomical comparison sets the 
 host off to another constellation, and the thought of the Crab reminds 
 him that a bad or stale crab is luminous in the dark, Cf. Dickens, 
 Christmas Carol, Stave i : 'It was not in impenetrable sh&dow 
 as the other objects in the yard were, but had a dismal light about 
 it, like a bad lobster in a dark cellar.' 
 
 I. ii. 28. Cooper s Dictionary ; a Thesaurus Lingua^ Romance et 
 Britanniccs published in 1565. There is an obvious play upon the 
 72
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton notes 
 
 word Cooper. The pronoun your is colloquial. Cf. Hamlet, v. i. 
 167. 
 
 I. iii. 4. My Clare ; used in contemptuous familiarity. A few 
 lines before Sir Arthur Clare does not know Fabell. 
 
 I. iii. 9. In hand To strike a viatch ; on the point of striking. 
 
 I. iii. 38 sqq. The sense is : ' Had these words been spoken by any 
 other, they would have brought no comfort. Spoken by you, they 
 have some power over me ; and yet — had any one else spoken, I 
 might have believed him ; but I cannot believe that you will ever 
 surrender Millicent.' I have printed the passage with a dash after 
 'yet being from thee.' Raymond begins to say, ' yet being from 
 thee I cannot believe them' ; but he goes on, 'I might have be- 
 lieved them from any other man.' The grammar of 42 is some- 
 what loose. The pronoun ' they' strictly refers to ' that word,' but 
 the phrase ' northern winds ' suggests the plural. 
 
 :. iii. 49 sqq. Lines 50-52 are parenthetical, and describe the present 
 melancholy state of Raymond in love. Line 53 takes up line 49, 
 and describes what young Clare would have Raymond to be. The 
 change of gender is due to a confusion between the general idea of 
 bve as feminine, and its personification in the god Cupid. For 
 the use of me in 49, and again in 54, see Abbott's Shakespearian 
 Gra>n?nar, 220. Compare also II. ii. 86. 
 
 I. iii. 52. Shot at hood?}iati-blind \ shot with eyes blindfolded, 
 like one playing the game of blind-man's buff. Cf. Ha7nlet, iii. 
 iv. 77. 
 
 I. iii. 65. Do I bend in the hams f ' Most weak hams ' are among 
 Hamlet's signs of old age, ii. ii. 199. 
 
 I. iii. 66. Towards marriage ; on the point of marriage. 
 
 I. iii. 75. To launch their busy bags ; to advance, bring out, their 
 money for the marriage. The reading busy bags is probably cor- 
 rupt. Dodsley conjectured pursy. The original phrase may mean 
 the bags, i.e. the money, they have so busily employed. 
 
 7Z
 
 NOTES The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 I. iii. loo. Oergive the Imie. Some of the old as well as the modem 
 editions read leave the love. This looks like a gloss due to the 
 difficulty of oergive. But, though it is hard to find a parallel to 
 the compound word, ' give over ' would bear the required meaning 
 of abandoning. 
 
 I. iii. 103. Thou hast begot my life ; given me my life again. 
 
 I. iii. 116-117. ' What return will you freely render for the honour 
 in which Mounchensey holds you?' The phrase ' upon the measure 
 of thy grace ' indicates that the return is one which cannot be ex- 
 acted as a right ; it must be left to the grace of Clare, and will be 
 measured by that grace. 
 
 I. iii. 134. To bustle for the set; to busy ourselves to win the 
 number of games that determines the victor. 
 
 I. iii. 140. Tfie milkmaids' cuts. ' Cut,' says Nares, was a 
 familiar expression for a common or labouring horse, either fron 
 its having the tail cut short, or from being cut as a gelding. ]n 
 I Henry IV., II. i. 5, 'Cut' is the name of the carrier's hors. 
 The word is also applied to dogs in the phrase, ' cut and long 
 tail ' ; where it certainly refers to the shortening of the tail. 
 
 II. i. 5. Your ale is a Philistine fox , etc. The allusion is to 
 the story of Samson tying firebrands to the foxes' tails. 
 
 II. i. 55. My Casiilian dialogues', my Castilian converses. A 
 Castilian was a courtier of superfine breeding. Nares quotes from 
 Marston's first Satire a couplet which does not define the meaning. 
 In the same Satire there is another couplet which does : — 
 
 •But oh ! the absolute Castilio, — 
 He that can all the points of courtship show.' 
 
 Dialogues is used as a verb. Cf. Timon of Athens, ii. ii. 56. 
 
 II. i. 58. Little Geneva print. 'An equivoque on the redness of his 
 eyes from having drunk too much, and the small type in which the 
 Scriptures were printed in the common Geneva version' (Hazlitt), 
 74
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton notes 
 
 II. i. 75. The citizen of good fellows ; he is an illiterate boor, yet 
 he is fellow-citizen with more polished men. 
 
 II. ii. 2. With shalls. ' A quibble on shall, and shale, or shell. 
 Churchyard, in his Challenge, 1593, says : — 
 
 "Thus all with shall or shalles ye shal be fed." ' 
 
 Hazlitt. 
 
 II. ii. 27. His lustre. It is well known that in Elizabethan English 
 his was the possessive of the neuter as well as of the masculine 
 pronoun. 
 
 II. ii. 35. Neither shalt thou. The old editions read shouldst ; 
 Hazlitt conjectured shaltst. 
 
 II. ii. 42. Whose blood is hotter than ours is. This line is metrically 
 defective ; but as the reading is found in all the early editions, the 
 fault is probably due to the writer of the play. 
 
 II. ii. 56. Soars; 'soaring flight; thence, high-flown words, 
 quarrel' (Warnke and Proescholdt). The line is metrically de- 
 fective, and some violence is done to the word soars ; but if we 
 accept the alternative rQ.z.dS.Xi%, frowardness, it is difficult to account 
 for the appearance of soars in the earlier editions. 
 
 II. ii. 67, 68. 'Addressing his father' (Warnke and Proescholdt). 
 
 II. iii. 3. The composure of weak frailty; the elements which com- 
 pose weak frailty. The idea of plurality conveyed by composu)-e 
 explains the plural verb. 
 
 II. iii. 18, 19. The want of you will drive him into a retirement 
 that will waste his blood and make him pale. 
 
 II. iii. 20, 21. True love has the sweetness and harmony of 
 music; but if the lovers are separated, their 'less worlds," the 
 microcosms of the disunited youth and maid, bear within them 
 hell. 
 
 II. iii. 23. We must part ; the breath Of all advised corruption, par- 
 don me. This passage is probably corrupt. The reading of the text 
 
 75
 
 NOTES The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 is that of the old editions, but they have not the semi-colon at part. 
 Hazlitt reads illiox all, has a semi-colon 2L\part, and a comma at 
 corruption. Warnke and Proescholdt put a full stop after breath, 
 but do not attempt to explain the meaning. I may suggest as a 
 possible meaning : ' We must part ; pardon me for repeating what 
 your corrupt fathers have deUberately enjoined.' 
 
 II. iii. 26. Rougher spite to sever us. Hazlitt's reading for the do 
 of the old editions. 
 
 III. i. 39. The sacring bell. 'The little bell which is rung 
 to give notice of the Host approaching, when it is carried in 
 procession, as also in other offices of the Romish Church, is called 
 the sacring or consecration bell, from the French word sacrer.' 
 (Theobald's note on Henry VII L, iii. ii. 295, quoted by Hazlitt.) 
 
 III. i. 95. To thrust Mounchensey s nose beside the cushion ; to lead 
 Mounchensey astray, make him miss the mark. The cushion, 
 says Nares, was probably a name for the mark at which archers 
 shot. 
 
 III. ii. 5. Our serious speech hath stolen upon the way, That we 
 are come ; our serious speech has so beguiled the way, that, etc. 
 
 III. ii. 16. My dear bosom. ' Cf. the Shakespearian phrases pty 
 dear heart, my dear blood, my dear soul, in all of which dear has 
 the signification of inmost'' (Warnke and Proescholdt). 
 
 HI. ii. 23. Vent your spleens with tickling mirth ; be so tickled 
 with the humour of it as to give passage to your spleens. 
 
 III. ii. 82-88. This passage is clearly corrupt. The reading in the 
 text is that of all the editions previous to Warnke and Proescholdt. 
 Some words, probably two or three lines, seem to have dropped 
 out. The relative who, line 83, has no verb, unless it can be con- 
 nected With plotted and delivered. Warnke and Proescholdt read 
 Harry for Fabell in line 84, and explain : ' Peter Fabell, in the 
 habit of Frier Hildersham, made his plot with the aid of Francke 
 and Harry and with my own assistance, and so, i.e. in that dis- 
 76
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton notes 
 
 guise, he conversed with Sir Arthur Clare.' The explanation is not 
 satisfactory. ' Plotted by ' can hardly mean ' made his plot with 
 the aid of. ' 
 
 III. ii. 90. / was a-dream'd. This is probably to be explained 
 in the way suggested by Professor Skeat in his notes on similar 
 passages in Chaucer, The Pardoneres Prologue, 406, and The 
 Frankeleyns Tale, 1580. If so, the termination ed is ' not really 
 a sign of the past participle, but a corruption of the ending 
 eth (A.S. ad), which is sometimes found at the end of a verbal 
 substantive.' 
 
 III. ii. 137. Turn tippet ; ' to make a complete change, particu- 
 larly used of a maid becoming a wife ' (Warnke and Proescholdt). 
 
 IV. i. I. Ye Hungarian pilchers. For Hungarian see Glossary. 
 Nares, s.v. Hungarian, says ih^il pilchers is here used for filchcrs. 
 This would certainly give an easy meaning, but there is no autho- 
 rity for this use of pitcher, and it is possible to explain the phrase 
 without violence to the word, which means one who wears a pilch 
 or garment of fur. The men addressed are ' pilchers ' proleptically, 
 because they hope to secure the skin of the deer ; and they are 
 Hungarians because their purposed booty is to be stolen. 
 
 IV. i. 33. As true as velvet. Probably the phrase is suggested by 
 Sir John's reference to deer. ' A stag in velvet ' is a stag with the 
 soft covering of the young horns still on. It is not obvious why this 
 should be specially true ; but the host habitually uses words without 
 much meaning. 
 
 IV. i. 34. Grass and hay, etc. The etc. means that Sir John re- 
 peats the rest of his customary speech. 
 
 IV. i. 39. Potter s gate. This is doubtless the modern Potter's 
 Bar, a village which derived its name from an ancient bar or gate 
 in Enfield Chase. 
 
 IV. i. 47. The stone pricot. ' Cf. a stone horse, i.e. a horse not 
 castrated' (Warnke and Proescholdt). 
 77
 
 NOTES The Merry Devil of Edmonton 
 
 IV. i. 85. Coney oak. No doubt an oak with a rabbit-hole under it. 
 Mmxz.y% Dictionary c^oxps the phrases, 'coney-ground,' 'coney- 
 garth. ' 
 
 IV. i. 158 j^^. My deer! — My daughter! There is in this passage 
 a whimsical suggestion of Shylock's cry for his ducats and his 
 daughter. 
 
 IV. ii. 27. A man of another element ', doomed to leave this world. 
 
 IV. ii. 44. Mareterraneum skinker. ' The Host seems to mean 
 mediterranean skinker' (Warnke and Proescholdt). 
 
 V. i. 41. A nun in approbation of her habit ; a novice. 
 
 V. i. 58. Nor bear with me. Collier conjectured now for nor ; but 
 Warnke and Proescholdt explain : ' Nor need you be indulgent to 
 me : I am quite prepared to hear and to bear the whole truth." 
 
 V. i. 83. Break our minds ; open, reveal our minds. 
 
 V. i. 128. Is not this the George ? The signs have been changed. 
 It appears from v. ii. 155 that Smug has been disguised as St. 
 George ; but why the plot should have required two St. Georges is 
 an unexplained mystery. 
 
 V. ii. 3. My old je7inets balk my house, my castle. The old read- 
 ing was, my old Jennert' s banke, 7ny horse, my castle. Stevens con- 
 jectured house for horse, but attempted unsatisfactorily to explain 
 Jennerf s or Jenerfs bank as a reference to the shop of some banker 
 celebrated for his soundness. Hazlitt reads my old jennet's 
 back f my house [zj] 7ny castle. Warnke and Proescholdt, by the 
 simple and happy conjecture oi bank (the old spelling of balk) for 
 bank, restore sense to the passage. The meaning is, ' My old 
 horses shy at, avoid, my house, my castle.' 
 
 V. ii. 16. The villanous world is turned manger, etc. The world 
 is a manger, from which each jade takes as much as possible 
 without regard to the rights of others, while the ostler cheats all. 
 
 V. ii. 50. Thou art an actor i7t this, etc. The meaning seems to 
 be that Sir Ralph's indignation is pretended (cf. above, 'leave tricks 
 78
 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton notes 
 
 and admiration '), and that in punishment of the pretence the 
 redness of his face, betokening passion, will endure for ever. 
 
 V. ii. 53. Trinidado sack ; I cannot discover what is the special 
 point in Trinidado sack. 
 
 V. ii. 64. Like a cockatrices egg; with as deadly effect as a 
 young cockatrice. The cockatrice was believed to kill by the 
 glance of its eye ; and not improbably the true reading is eye, in- 
 stead of egg. The old spelling, ege, leaves little difference between 
 the two words. The reading of the text, however, yields a good 
 meaning, 
 
 V. ii. 91. Were you an actor In your own love's abuse? did you 
 help in the plot to defeat the plan of marriage between yourself 
 and Millicent ? 
 
 Printed by T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty 
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