Qass H K2 4ii2. Book ' r\ \A ^— ' w YALE STUDIES IN ENGLISH '' ALBERT S. COOK, Editor XXXI EPICOENE OR THE SILENT WOMAN BY BEN JONSON EDITED WITH INTRODUCTION, NOTES, AND GLOSSARY BY AURELIA HENRY, Ph.D. A Thesis presented to the Faculty of the Graduate School of Yale University in Candidacy for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy NEW YORK HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 1906 OXFORD : HORACE HART PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY f YALE STUDIES IN ENGLISH ALBERT S. COOK, Editor XXXI EPICOENE OR THE SILENT WOMAN BY BEN JONSON EDITED WITH INTRODUCTION, NOTES, AND GLOSSARY RY AURELIA HENRY, Ph.D. A Thesis presented to the Faculty of the Graduate School of Yale University in Candidacy for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy NEW YORK HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 1 906 Creditur, ex medio quia res arcessit, habere Sudoris minimum ; sed habet Comoedia tanto Plus oneris, quanto veniae minus. HoR. Ep. 2. I. i68. PREFACE Within the last decade editions of Ben Jonson — single plays and groups of plays— have multiplied with significant rapidity, Epiccene, as the most popular comedy of the great Elizabethan, should not be the last to be accorded the dignity of a separate volume. Contemporary popularity may not indicate the presence of lasting qualities of art. Epicoene, however, of all Ben Jonson's dramas, was not only listened to with most pleasure in its author's day, but it held the stage longest, and is now best known to the general reader. Such popularity must spring from positive artistic merits, Epicoene does not stand first in intellectual grasp or moral greatness ; its satire has the tone of ridicule rather than moral indignation. But its intrigue is the finest Jonson ever contrived ; it contains some of the most inimitable of his comic characters, and at least one of the best situations any comedy affords ; it reflects with due subordination to plot the manners of its age, and merits thereby the distinction of being the first comedy of manners in English ; it is of perennially comic force, infinite in wit, and pervaded by a spirit more nearly gay than any other work of its author. In addition to these excellences, and in part because of them, Epiccene is to-day the most actable stage-piece from Jonson's pen. This comedy is in no sense difficult to read and enjoy, but thorough study discloses in it depth and meaning which serious students seldom recognize, and casual readers entirely overlook. The realistic portrayal of manners leads one to a better under- standing of the life and mind of the early seventeenth century in England, the satire on false criticism of \'i Preface poets and poetry conduce to a clearer knowledge of Jonson's critical theories, the admirable mechani- cal structure exemplifies the extreme of classic in- fluence in English comedy, and the heterogeneous sources emphasize once more the fact of the author's unparalleled scholarship and illustrate the manner in which he appropriated and adapted ancient material to his use. Moreover, a unique opportunity is here afforded for the study of Jonson's prose st3de. His other prose comedy, Bartholomew Fair, is in the vernacular of Smithfield, but Epicoene, with its men and women of fashion, is in the speech of the better quarters of London, and is distinguished by Latin phraseology, and by constructions and a vocabulary, which prove that the influence exerted upon Jonson by the classics was one not only of idea and technique, but of linguistic expression as well. To enable students to approach Ben Jonson through an authentic text of Epicoene, and to facilitate such con- siderations of the comedy and its author as are here suggested, is the purpose of the present edition. I wish to express my gratitude to Professor Albert S. Cook for his continual interest and help in my work ; and to other members of Yale University for their kindly assistance — Professor Thomas R. Lounsbury, Professor William Lyons Phelps, and Mr. Andrew Keogh ; also to Professor Frederick M, Padelford, of the University of Washington, and Mr. Frederick J. Teggart, of the Mechanics' Library of San Francisco. A portion of the expense of printing this thesis has been borne by the Modern Language Club of Yale University, from funds placed at its disposal by the generosity of Mr. George E. Dimock, of Elizabeth, New Jersey, a graduate of Yale in the class of 1874. A. H. British Museum, January 2, 1906. CONTENTS PAGE I. INTRODUCTION : A. Editions of the Comedy. I. Coilations and Descriptions xi 2. Stage- Adaptations xviii 3. Translations XX E. Date and Stage- History xxii C. Literary Relationships .... xxvii I. Sources of the Plot. Libanius xxviii Plautus xxxiv Shakespeare XXXV 2. Sources of the Dialogue . xli Ovid xlv Juvenal i Canon-Law, Sophocles, Euripides liii Cicero, Virgil, Horace hv Terence Iv 3. Source of the lyric ' Still to be neat ' . Iv 4. Literary Descendants . . . . Ivii D. Critical Estimate of Epicoene Ixi II. TEXT I III. NOTES 123 IV. BIBLIOGRAPHY 278 V. GLOSSARY 284 VI. INDEX 300 INTRODUCTION A. Editions of the Play. I. Collations and Descriptions. The earliest extant text of Epicoene is in vol, i of the First Folio of Ben Jonson's collected works, printed in 1616. The only available quarto of Epicoene bears a date four years later, 1620. The play is reprinted in vol. i of the Second Folio of Jonson's works, 1640, and in the Third Folio, 1692 ^ In a duodecimo volume issued by H. Hills about 1700, Epiccene is reprinted from the Third Folio. During the centuries that follow there are many reprints. A booksellers' edition of Jonson appeared in 1716 ; Epicoene (dated 1717) was reprinted in 1739 and 1768. A two- volume edition, printed at Dublin in 1729, contains, among its eight plays, Epicoene reprinted from the Third Folio. Peter Whalley edited the comedy in his edition of 1756. George Colman adapted it for the Georgian stage, printing it in 1776. John Stockdale reprinted Whalley's text and notes in a publication of the plays of Jonson, Beaumont, and Fletcher, 181 1. William Gifford's edition of Jonson was published in 181 6, and again in 1846 ; it was reissued with some additions by Lieut.- Col. Francis Cunningham in 1871, and again in 1875^. There is an unimportant reprint of Gifford's text of Epiccene in Barry Cornwall's one-volume edition of Jonson, 1838; another in Ben Jonson's Plays and Poems, edited by Henry Morley in his ^ For collations of these folios, cf. Poetaster, ed. H. S. Mallory ( Yale Studies in English XXVII), New York, 1905. 2 For collations of 1717, W, G, and C-G, cf. The Alchemist, ed. C. M. Hathaway {Yale Studies in English XVII), New York, 1903. X Introduction Universal Library, 1885 ; another, with few variations, in the third of the three volumes devoted to Jonson in the Mermaid Series, 1895 ; and another in Ben Jonson's Plays and Poems, printed by George Newnes, London, 1905. There is, finally, an adaptation of the play by Mrs. Richardson, printed and sold by Charles W. Sever, Cambridge, Mass., 1895. The statement that the earliest available text of Epiccene is the Folio of 1616 raises the long-mooted question of earlier quartos. There exists a certain amount of evidence pointing to the publication of the play at dates closely following its appearance on the stage in 16^^. In the first place, there are two entries of its publication in quarto, in the Registers of the Company of Stationers oj London, before the printing of the folio. The first is vol. 3. 444 [200 b of Arber's Transcript'] : 20™° Septembris (1610). John Browne Entred for their Copye vnder th[e h]andes of Sir George John Busby Bvcke and master Waterson for master warden Leake, Junior. A booke called, Epiccene or the silent woman by [See/. 498.] Ben: Johnson vj"* 1 . The second entry is ibid. 3. 498. [226 v] : 28 Septembris (161 2). Walter , Burre ( Entred for his copie by assignment from John Browne and consent | of the Wardens in full Court holden this Day | . See p. 444. A booke called the Conwiodye of ' the Silent Woman ' vj*. To these entries Gifford makes reference in his Intro- duction to Epiccene, Jonson's Works 3. 326: ^ThQ Silent Woman was printed in quarto with this motto : Ut sis til sit?iilis Cccli, Byrrhique latronum, Non ego sim Capri, neque Sulci. Cur metuas me ? and went through several editions. I have one dated 1620. The Companion to the Playhouse mentions another, printed in 1609 (as does Whalley in the margin of his copy), which I have not been able to discover ; the earliest which has fallen in my way bearing date 161 2. All these are ex- clusive of the folio 1616.' Editions of the Play xi The notice in the Companion to the Playhouse is of little value, as it contains no evidence that the writer ever saw the quarto of which he speaks briefly in vol. i : ' Epicoene, or The filent Woman. Com. by Ben Jonfon, 4*°. 1609. — This is accounted one of the beft Comedies extant, and is always adled with univerfal Applaufe.' The references to the Quartos of 1609 and i6ia in modern bibliographies of Jonson's works, or of the drama, are made always on the three authorities quoted above, the Stationers Registers, Baker's Companion to the Playhouse, or Gifford's note. Both quartos are spoken of as existent by Hazlitt, Bib. Handbk. to Early Eng. Lit. (L. 1867), p. 307 ; by Lowndes ; by the BibliotJieca Heberiana, &c. Dr. Herford mentions only the Quartos of 1609 and 1620 in his biography of Jonson, D.N.B. There is a vain dis- cussion of the early quartos in Notes and Queries, 9th Sen, 4, pp. 87, 152, 197. No effort to find trace of the present existence of quartos earlier than one of 1620 meets with success. A communica- tion sent by me to Notes and Queries, August 23, 1903, asking for information on the subject, received no answer, nor did a similar advertisement by Mr. Percy Simpson, Dr. Herford's coadjutor in the edition of Ben Jonson to be published at the Oxford Press. If the records of the stationers could be implicitly trusted, the question of the quartos would never have arisen ; that the quartos had been published would be recognized, while the passing of three centuries would account for the non-appearance of a single stray copy. But many books were registered which never saw the light ; an entry indicated merely that printing was contemplated. Certainly, in the case of two entries, and for a play so popular as Epicoene, evidence is in favor of its having reached the printer's hands at least once. However, the present editor agrees with Dr. Herford that the evidence is insufficient to establish the existence at any. time of the missing quartos. As for Gifford, xii Introduction perhaps in this point, as in many others, he has * made a slip'. The results of this discussion are patently unsatisfactory, nor does the identification of a disputed quarto in the British Museum help matters. In this library are two quartos of the comedy, one dated 1620, and one wanting the title-page and following leaf. It has been thought that the undated quarto might belong to an earlier impression, but on examination they prove to be identical in readings, type, and pagination. Not only are misprints precisely the same in both, but whatever type is blurred or poorly set in one is blurred or poorly set in the other. Cf nothing, ANOTHER 7 ; on for our i . i. 48 ; ^/ for buti. i. 73 ; seme for semes i. i. 122 ; grat for great i. 4. 48 ; Johnson 2. 2. 119 ; zvork for workes 2. 3. 23 ; DAVP. where the Folio mis- prints DAV. for DAW. 2. 3. 126; tls 2. 4. loi ; sirkts 2. 5. 77; iliis omitted 3. i. 24; adingd for iiidg'd 3. 2. 58 ; Ladishis 3. 6. 100 ; MN. bcates vpon him for hcates hint 4. 2. 104 ; so omitted 4. 4. 22 ; her for Jiim 4. 4. 81; DAW. for DAV. 4. 5. 132; inginer for ingine 4. 6. 47 ; so omitted 5. 2. 4 ; againe inserted 5. 3. 8 ; ivanc for want 5. 3. 245 ; with 5. 4. 39 ; gentleman-like -like 5. 4. 93. The quarto lacking the title-page and following leaf is therefore a copy of the edition of 1620. Welcome as the discovery of the Quartos of 1609 and 1 61 2 would be to all students of Jonson, the lack of them does not invalidate a text of Epicoene made from the earliest folios. Jonson wrote in the dedication to Sir Francis Stuart, which he prefixed to the play in the Folio of 1 616 : ' There is not a line or syllable in it changed from the simplicity of the first copy.' In view of Jonson's literary activity at the time, in view of the jealous respect he felt for his productions, even to the minutest detail of printing and acting, and in view of the excellence of the text of Epicoene in that Folio, the author's statement is to be taken in its full significance. Editions of the Play xiii As Epiccene was fortunate enough to require no rearrange- ments or additions, as in the case of Every Man in his Humoiir, Poetaster, and Sejanus, the editor of this comedy need watch only for the inevitable minor changes of the text — modernizations, emendations, errors of type, or the disagreements of words and phrases which investigation shows are traceable to the varying impressions of the First Folio itself, which we are now to consider. It does not behove us to discuss Jonson's personal super/ision of this Folio. That it is not authority in the case of Every Man out of his Huinotir^ does not obviate the fact that for plays having no earlier quartos it must remain the standard. Of the Folio of 1616 there are several mutually inde- pendent impressions, as indicated by the variations in the imprint of the shield at the base of the general title-page, and by variations in the texts ^. The folio in the Yale University Library reads : LONDON | Printed by \ William Stanjby. \ An" D. 1616. [ (F) The text of Epiccene in this folio resembles, except in a few instances of punctuation, spelling, and typography, one in the British Museum reading: LONDON \ printed by W: \ Stanfby, and are | to be fould by | Rich : Meighen | An° D. 16 16. | (F2) A second in the Museum is unique in appearance, and differs through Act i, Act 3. i, and 2, 2 in some important readings, in pagination, in type, and in spelling, from the first two. It is a handsome book, printed on large paper, with the engraving of Ben Jonson by Vaughan, found in the 1640 Folio, inserted opposite the title-page. The im- print on the shield runs : Imprinted at \ London by | Will Stanfby ] An° D. 1616 | (F^) The text of Epiccene begins in all three, p. 529, but at the outset the type differs. F and F2 read PROLOG VE and F^ PROLOGVE. F^ at ^ Anglia, New Series, 14, pp. 377 ff., The Atithority of the Ben Jonson Folio of 1616. ^ Mod. Lang. Quart., Apr. 1904, pp. 26-9, W. W. Greg. XIV Introduction once varies in spelling and capitals. The early marginal notes of F and Fg are not to be found in F^. Readings vary in this way: oncevpon F, otice onY-^^\. i. i6o; bring him hi F, bring him Fj, i. i. 173 ; marching F,goingF^, i. i. 181 ; a Barber, one Cvtberd, F, a Barber, F^, i. 2. 33 ; &c. All variants in these copies of the Folio will be found in their order in the text. F has been chosen for the present edition, not only because it exhibits the most consistency and contains fewest apparent errors in reading and type, but because the Quarto of 1620 chooses it for reproduction. The selection of the text at that time must have been made either by Jonson, who among his contemporaries strove most earnestly for correctness in his published writings, or by Stansby, who was printer of both Folio and Quarto. The text here given may be called a reprint of the First Folio, with variants of all other important editions. The Quarto of 1630 is a clearly-printed little volume, containing : Title, one leaf (verso blank). Dedication and Persons of the Play, one leaf. Text B — O^ (verso blank) in fours. It follows F in all but details of typography and spelling, in these matters it is more like F than Fj, e. g. PROL. 27, F ord'narieSy F^ ordinaries, Q Ordnaries. Where F uses large capitals in the names of persons in the scene, speakers, and those addressed, the Quarto uses italics, writing also all other proper nouns in italics. Capitals are used profusely in the names of the deity, in titles — Sir, Madame, &c., and in common nouns, as Play PROL. 14 ; Cnstard PROL. 16. Orthographical varia- tions are such asj/ for i : plaies ¥,playes Q PROL. i ; praise F, prays Q PROL. 1 ; braines F, braynes Q PROL. 7. Interjection Mary F is sometimes written marry Q. Latinized form of pretious, physitian, 8ic., is generally altered (not in physitian, 4. 4. 58). True-wit is usually spelled Trn-wit. Abbreviations M. and Mr. are written out at length. Jonson is spelled Johnson. Editions of the Play xv The Folio of 1640 is a reprint of F^, as is clear from its failure to reprint the marginal notes of the second Prologue and i. i found in F and Q, but omitted in Fj. It follows the latter in such readings as those just quoted above, and in others : as parlees for preachings, %. a. ^^ ; the omission of detow 1. 3. 48, of for i. 4. 40, and wiik %. I. 45. This Second Folio is a careless piece of work, responsible for errors copied from it into many reprints after its time. Such are the making of Mrs. Mavis, the La Haughties woman \ printlngpartic/e for article, i. i. 30 ; speake for spend, i. i. ^t^ ; master for mistress, i. 4. 79; are for and, 2. 3. 132 ; pitch for pith, 3. 3. 45, &c. Spelling is modernized : flond and bloud F become flood and blood \ furder F hecova&s further ; conj. adv. theji F thafi 1640 ; pray thee F pry thee 1640 ; final e is taken from words like seate, eate, &c. ; windore F is frequently zvindoive 1640; hethcr and thether always spelled with an i; and meaning 'if is written ati as 4. i. 140. Sometimes 1640 makes minor improvements, as when it takes a stray hyphen from common place-fellow (a misprint common to Folio and Quarto) and reads common-place fellow, 2. The Third Folio, 1692, copies all the errors of 1640, and adds others, as in the use of quiet for qidt, i. i. 161 ; dif- feretice for diffidence, 4. i. 69. Spelling is modernized: dds becomes does, 'hem becomes ^em, and meaning * if ' uniformly an. Punctuation is much changed, especially in the insertion of colons for periods, and in printing clauses as independent sentences. A duodecimo volume, with no general title-page, con- taining reprints of Epicosne, Volpone, The Alchemist, and Shadwell's Timon of Athens, is an interesting link between the folios and the modern texts. The British Museum Catalogue dates it provisionally 1680, but it belongs to a time nearer 1700. EPICOENE, | OR, THE | Silent Woman I A I COMEDY. I First acted in the Year 1609. xvi Introduction By the Children of | Her MAJESTY'S | Revels | ... By Ben Johnson. | Ut sis . . . | London : | Printed and fold by H. Hills in Black- \ Fryars, near the Water-fide \ is mani- festly a reprint from 169a. It reprints even such mis- spellings of the Third Folio as those in the Persons of the Play — Amarous for Amorotis, Eugene for Eugenie. It follows 1692 in unique punctuation and readings. That it is later than 1692 is further evidenced by the form of three words: Cadiz, i. 4. 61, shows a tardy recognition of the Spanish dental d, pronounced by the Elizabethans as a liquid and written / — in this instance Caliz in all the old editions ; wind-fucker is written by H windsucker (cf. note, I. 4. 77) ; tyrannes is first printed by H tyrants, 2. 2. 73. The next edition deserving comment is Peter Whalley's of 175*^- Though Whalley restores some original readings of the First Folio, as scratch for search, 4. 5. 24 ; lock for look, 4. 6. 39 ; divertendo for diveriendendo, 5. 3. 73, he retains such readings of the later folios as quiet for quit, and makes ' corrections ' which are unnecessary alterations of the text : talk to for talk, i. i. 64 ; thaji to follow for to follow, 2. 2. 32 ; next if for next that, if, 2. 2. 129, &c. Very carelessly copying 171 7, he makes the first actors of the comedy The Kings Servants. It may be noted that Whalley's system of punctuation is his own: he incloses all verse in quotation-marks, and rejects or re- tains Jonson's parentheses as he sees fit. In designating new scenes, he is the first editor to omit the word Act in all but the first scene of each act ; he is the first to insert the name of the speaker who has the opening lines, and to run in Jonson's marginal notes either between the sentences of a speech or below in foot-notes. His spelling is more consistent than his predecessors', and reverts less often to old forms : and meaning 'if is uni- formly ««', and 'hem with few exceptions 'em. The most important modern edition of Jonson's works is that published in 181 6 by the poet's aggressive apologist, Editions of the Play xvii William Gififord. Possessing profounder knowledge in classical subjects, and more critical acumen in text values, his edition far surpasses Whalley's. He is the first editor of Epicoene to adhere to the F imprint of 1616, and to consider quarto readings. He corrects errors that are as old as Fj itself, restoring the marginal notes of the second prologue and i. 1^ preachings iox par lees, 2. 2,. ^^, &c. He corrects Whalley's error in substituting The King's Servants for The Children of the Revels, and various textual errors, but reprints others : than to follow for to follow 2. 2. 32 ; have fonnd one for have found 2. 2. 38 ; next for next that F, 2. 2. 129 ; a miracle for miracle 2. 4. 98, &c. He is freer than Whalley in making emendations, altering arrangement, and modernizing his text without comment ; he divides acts into scenes according to place instead of according to speaker, as was Jonson's custom, and follows Whalley in omitting the word Act before all but the first scene of each act, in printing the name of the first speaker of each scene, and in printing Jonson's marginal notes wherever they are most convenient. Moreover, he inter- polates stage-directions and explanations of place and action. These changes have been deplored often enough by recent scholars, yet in their defense be it said that, though they stamp Gifford's publication as a popular rather than a truly critical edition, they make Jonson more intelligible to the general reader. The most valuable part of Gifford's work is his notes, which, in the case of Epiccene's classic sources, contain almost exhaustive information. Gifford's alterations of the text may be exemplified by the following : he changes Persons of the Play to Dramatis Personcs, alters the order of names, adds titles, calls Clerimont's Boy ' Page* &c. In modernizing the spelling and forms of words he writes the interjection I '■ ay' \ past tenses 'd Y, edQ; d F, on, of G ; ha' F, have G ; 'hem F, them or 'em G ; i' F, in G ; th' F, the G ; dds F, does G ; pickt F becomes picked G ; God be wi' you G for God f b xviii Introduction w' yoti F, I. 3. 67, I. 2. 84, 2. 2. 140, 148, &c. ; venter F is veiittire G passim ; hether F, hither G ; /r^j ///^^ F, prithee G. It is impossible to treat exhaustively Gififord's changes, but his text is easily accessible in his two editions, or in those issued by Cunningham. The last of these, printed in 1875 with 'Introduction and Appendices', al- though the additions are what Dr. Herford calls 'perfunc- tory improvements ', is at present the standard for Jonson's complete works. In the Mermaid Series Dr. Nicholson was to have edited three volumes of the plays of Jonson, but his labor went no further than vols, i and 2 issued in 1893-4. Vol. 3, containing Volpone, Epiccene, and The Alchemist^ published in 1895, contains reprints of Gifford. The text of Epiccene is particularly faulty, departing from GifTord's reading with and M for are G PROL. 9 ; with mere potent M, more portent G, i. 2. 20 ; only a fit M, only fit, 2. 1. 14 ; shoidd M, shall G, 3. 3. loi ; his M, the G, 4- 5- 2^, &c. The Mermaid text is independent in its method of capitalizing, spelling, and typography. 2. Stage-Adaptations. In enumerating the various editions oi Epiccene, mention was made of two adaptations for stage production in com- paratively recent years. About the middle of the eighteenth century the Jacobean comedy lost its hold on the play- going public. An altered society judged its situations objectionable, its language coarse, and its Latin quotations pedantic and unintelligible. For a revival of the play in 1776 Colman set to work to remedy matters. He began by cutting out the old prologues and substituting one of his own, the quoting of which will reveal better than much comment the spirit and method of the revision : Editions of the Play xix PROLOGUE. Written by George Colman. Spoken by Mr. Palmer. Happy the soaring bard who boldly wooes, And wins the favour of, the tragic muse ! He from the grave may call the mighty dead, In buskins and blank verse the stage to tread; On Pompeys and old Csesars rise to fame, And join the poet's to th' historian's name. The comick wit, alas ! whose eagle eyes Pierce Nature thro', and mock the time's disguise, Whose pencil living follies brings to view, Survives those follies, and his portraits too; Like star-gazers, deplores his luckless fate. For last year's Almanacks are out of date. ' The Fox, the Alchemist, the Silent Woman, Done by Ben Jonson, are out-done by no man.* Thus sung in rough, but panegyrick, rhimes. The wits and criticks of our author's times. But now we bring him forth with dread and doubt, And fear his learned socks are quite worn out. The subtle Alchemist grows obsolete. And Drugger's humour scarcely keeps him sweet. Tonight, if you would feast your eyes and ears, Go back in fancy near two hundred years; A play of Ruffs and Farthingales review, Old English fashions, such as then were new ! Drive not Tom Otter's Bulls and Bears away; Worse Bulls and Bears disgrace the present day. On fair CoUegiates let no critick frown ! A Ladies' Club still holds its rank in town. If modem Cooks, who nightly treat the pit. Do not quite cloy and surfeit you with wit. From the old kitchen please to pick a bit ! If once, with hearty stomachs to regale On old Ben Jonson's fare, tho' somewhat stale, A meal on Bobadil you deign'd to make. Take Epiccene for his and Kitely's sake ! Within the play Colman made many changes. Act 5. 2, in which Dauphine is interviewed by the collegiates, is cut out ; the last scenes of this act are much abbreviated ; and the tone of the denouement is altered by mollifying Dauphine's last speech to his uncle, and cutting down ba XX Introduction True-wit's final remarks. Single speeches are omitted : e. g. 3. 5. 40 fif. for their coarseness ; 3. 3 because their interest is obsolete. Most of the oaths are omitted, while those remaining are altered to modern by-words or inter- jections. Archaic words and Jonsonian coinings lose their place: e.g. Stoicitie^ i. i. 66 \ a decameron of sport, i. 3 14; wind-sucker, i. 4. 77, becomes bellows-blower. Local allusions are modernized : for him d the sadlers horse, 4. I. 25, Colman substitutes St. George d horseback at the door of an alehotise. In short, Colman rehashed what was for the most part acceptable meat, and served a warmed-over meal. The Jacobean flavor is gone. In the adaptation of the play made by Mrs. Richardson, and presented at Harvard in 1895, a different method is used for the most part. To be sure, cuts in Act 5 occur at almost the same points as in Colman's arrangement : the confession drawn from La-Foole and Daw is omitted, Dauphine's dialogue with the collegiates shortened, and the discussion concerning divorce in the third scene carried only as far as the impediment publice honestas, 5. 3. 158. Act 2. 6 is omitted. But as for archaisms, allusions, and colloquialisms, they are left as Jonson used them. While Colman makes every effort to give the play the contem- porary tone and color of ' the town ', here the audience is asked to make the concession, to change its usual point of view, and to enjoy the whole historically. There can be no doubt as to the superiority of the latter method and its result. It rightly yields to the require- ments of increased refinement in manners, while it preserves the integrity of the play. 3. Translations ^. The earliest reference to a translation of Epiccene is by Richard Twiss in Travels through Portugal and Spain (London, 1775), Appendix, p. 457 : ' In 1769, a Portuguese ^ Cf. Gifford's note, Jonson's Works 3. 327. Editions of the Play xxi translation, in three acts, in prose, was published, of Ben Johnson's Epiccene : it was acted at Lisbon, though miser- ably disfigured.' This I have not seen. In 1800 Ludwig Tieck printed at Jena his Epiccene^ oder das stumme Mddchen in his Poetisches Journal, Erster Jahrgang, zweites StUck, pp. 249-458. Tieck altered this version somewhat, and included it in his ScJiriften (Berlin, 1829) 12. 155-354 under the title Epiccene, oder Das Stille Frauenzimmer, Ein Lustspiel in fiinf Akten von Ben Jonson. Uebersetzt 1800. The alterations in the reprint are of minor importance : the name of the comedy is slightly changed ; True-wit is called in the Journal, Treinvits, and in the Schriften^ GtUwitz ; some speeches translated in the first are omitted in the second, and some omitted in the first are left in the second. The Schriften reprint is freer and more felicitous in the rendering of English idioms than the first, but even then at times the exact meaning evades the translator, or the point of a jest is blunted. Compare i. i. 128 : * Well said, my Truewit,' ' Gut gesagt, mein Treuwitz,' ' Brav, Gutwitz ' ; i. i. 134 : ' O Prodigie ! ' * O verflucht ! ' ' O abscheulich ! ' i. i. 184 : ' A good wag/ ' Ein herrlicher Narr,' * Brav, Kind.' Tieck used Whalley's reading, ' When the rest were quiet'' for quit, i. i. 161, and translates ' alle Ubrigen feierten '. He translates ' ridiculous acts and moniments', i. 2. 9, ' lacherlichen Dinge und Be- gebenheiten '. Two volumes of plays were translated from Gifford's edition into French : Ben Jonson, traduit par Ernest Lafond: precedee dune notice sur la vie et les Ocuvres de Ben Jonson. Paris, 1863. J^pichte on La Fcmme Silencieuse, T. 2. 183-370, is a faithful and spirited translation, in which but few examples of inadequate rendering may be found. Commentaire is a questionable translation of comment 5. 4. ^^, and race niaiidite inexact for mankind generation, 5. 4. 22. xxii Introduction B. Date and Stage-History. The title-page of the Foh'o of 1616 informs the reader that Epicoene was 'Acted in the yeere 1609 by the Chil- dren of her Maiesties Revells.' However, since the folio dates are all reckoned old style, and since there is other testimony as to the season of the year in which the play appeared, we must list Epiccene as a production of 1610. From the reference in PROL. 34, we know that the comedy appeared at the Whitefriars Theatre ; from the statement of the title-page, and the appended list of actors, we know that the company was the Queen's Revel boys. Now, it was on January 4, i60i®o, that Whitefriars Theatre was leased by Philip Rossiter and several other men ; very soon after, the boys' company was permanently established there. So Epiccene must have been presented some time subse- quent to the leasing of the theatre, Jan. 4, and previous to the opening of the new year on March 25. There is no internal evidence pointing to January, February, or March as the month of its appearance. The various references to the recent plague are accounted for by the revival of 'the sickness' in September, 1609. Epiccene, then, was written during the latter part of 1609, was presented at Whitefriars by the Children of her Majesty's Revels before March 25, 1610, and was entered for publication in the Stationers Registers, Sept. 10, 1610, at least half a year after its first appearance on the stage. The success of the play was early assured, the lightness of the comedy effecting an instant and enduring popu- larity. Beaumont has left a commendatory stanza ^. Some anonymous individual early formed the jingling rhyme which makes Epiccene one of the trio of Jonson's master- ^ Cf. note, p. 129. Date and Stage-History xxiii pieces, and which Swinburne designates as a ' foolish and famous couplet ' : The Fox, the Alchemist, and Silent Woman, Done by Ben Jonson, and outdone by no man. Jonson told Drummond^ a joke at the expense of his comedy, which Gifford with strange lack of humor re- fuses to credit : ' When his play of a Silent Woman was first acted, ther was found verses after on the stage against him, concluding that that play was well named the Silent Woman, ther never was one man to say Plaiidite to it.' When the theatres reopened after the Restoration Epi- coene came back at once to the stage, and was immensely popular. It exactly suited an unpoetic generation, to whom a clever plot and busy wit appealed more than romantic story or character, deeply conceived; a super- ficial generation, whose demand for external perfection was met by admirable technique, and whose taste for the classics was amply gratified in abundant quotation and reference ; a generation whose ideal drama must possess The iinities of Action, Place, and Time, The scene unbroken, and a mingled chime Of Jonson's humour and Corneille's rhyme ^. The actors interpreted it, doubtless, with all the gaiety that characterizes the reactionary period, and Jonson's fun fell upon listeners who laughed at the V broadest jests, shrank from none of the coarseness, and felt no satiric sting in character-drawing or dialogue. Fortunately for those interested in the minutiae of its history, Pepys cared enough for Epiccene to go often to see it, and to record his impressions and those of others. He even makes a memorandum concerning the Dukes of York and Gloucester, June 6, 1660 : 'The two Dukes do haunt the Park much, and they were at a play, Madame Epicene, the other day.' Jan. 7, 1661, Pepys saw Kinaston ^ Conv., vol. 9. 417 ff. * Prologue to The Maiden Qtieen. xxiv Introduction in the name part : ' Tom and I and my wife to the Theatre, and there saw "The Silent Woman." Among other things here, Kinaston the boy had the good turn to appear in three shapes; first, as a poor gentlewoman in ordinary clothes, to please Morose ; then in fine clothes, as a gallant ; and in them was clearly the prettiest woman in all the house ; and lastly, as a man ; and then likewise did appear the handsomest man in the house.' Nearly all the great actors and some of the great actresses in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries in- terpreted the roles of Epiccene^ Kynaston, Michael Mohun, Betterton, Colley Gibber, Mrs. Oldfield, Wilks, Macklin, and Mrs, Siddons. When it was given in 1664 at the Theatre Royal \ the part of Epicoene was assigned to Mrs. Knap — the first time, as far as we are aware, but by no means the last, that the boy's r61e was taken by a woman. In this cast Kynaston played Dauphine, Cart- wright Morose, Mohun True-wit, Wintershall Sir Amorous La-Foole. Pepys seems not to have enjoyed the perform- ance. June I, 1664: 'To the King's House, and saw " The Silent Woman," but methought not so well done or so good a play as I formerly thought it to be.' But he changes his tone when he sees it three years later. April 15, 1667: 'Carried my wife to see the new play I saw yesterday : but contrary to expectation, there I find " The Silent Woman." ' On the i6th : ' I never was more taken with a play than I am with this " Silent Woman," as old as it is, and as often as I have seen it. There is more wit in it than goes to ten new plays.' The next year Pepys's praise grows more extravagant. Sept. 19, 1668: 'To the King's playhouse, and there saw "The Silent Woman"; the best comedy, I think, that ever was wrote ; and sitting by Shadwell the poet, he was big with admiration of it.' Dryden was at this time writing unstinted praise of Epi- coene in his prefatory essays. ^ Adams, Did. of the Drayna. Date and Stage-History xxv The precedent set in giving Epicoene to an actress was followed Jan. 1707, when Ann Oldfield acted the part at the Haymarket. Betterton appeared as Morose, Wilks as True-wit, Booth as Sir Dauphine, Bullock as La-Foole, and Gibber as Daw. There is nothing noteworthy of other recorded appearances of the play in the following hundred years. Mrs. Thurmond appeared as Epicoene at Drury Lane, Oct. 1731 ; Mrs. Butler at the same theatre in Feb. 1738. At Covent Garden, Hannah Pritchard essayed the same part, Apr. 17, 1745, but her fame as Lady Haughty seems to have been more widespread. Epicoene was a distinct failure in a carefully-prepared production by Colman and Garrick in 1776. Colman al- tered the comedy, as we have seen, to suit ' the town's ' ideas of propriety, and Garrick managed the staging, assigning Epicoene to Mrs. Siddons, Morose to Bensley, La-Foole to King, Otter to Yates^ and Daw to Parsons. On its failure, Garrick substituted Lamash for Mrs. Siddons ; but matters did not improve. The comedy kindled no applause, drew no auditors, and had to be with- drawn. Critics reiterate the statement that Garrick's failure was due to the fact that a boy's role was inter- preted by a woman. Certainly it was an artistic blemish, but Epicoene had been successfully interpreted by women since 1664. Besides, Lamash's inability to correct the fault, and the subsequent history of the comedy, point at a deeper-seated reason than the assignment of roles. What delighted the hearts of Charles IPs contemporaries found little favor in the sight of George HPs. How could a generation of fastidious men and women, a genera- tion of sentimentalists without keen sense of humor, find ' profit and delight ' in Lady Haughty and her train, and in the ' noisy enormity ' of Mrs. Otter and her humorous * subject ' ? Two inimitable comic characters of this epoch, with unwitting Pharisaism, express the contemporary opinion when one confounds ' anything that 's low ', and xxvi Introduction the other agrees that ' the genteel thing is the genteel thing any time ' ^. So, greeted with cold disapproval at her reappearance in Covent Garden, Apr. 26, 1784, Epicoene quitted the stage, and was not seen for over a century. Coleridge left his opinion that 'this is to my feelings the most entertaining of old Ben's comedies, and, more than any other, would admit of being brought out anew, if under the management of a judicious and stage-under- standing playwright ; and an actor who had studied Morose might make his fortune ' ^. But neither stage- manager nor actor has arisen to claim the fortune Coleridge promises, and to prove the critic's judgment a correct one. In 1895^ on Feb. 7, an enterprising class at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts produced the play as adapted for them by Mrs. Richardson. It was repro- duced at Harvard College a month later, when faculty and students co-operated to make it a memorable dramatic performance ^. The Sanders Theatre at Cambridge, Mass., was transformed into an Elizabethan playhouse, modeled on Joseph Dewitt's drawing of the Swan Theatre, 1596, and in accordance with the orders of Philip Henslowe in building the Fortune in 1600. The parts were all acted by men. A typical Elizabethan audience impersonated by students, together with appreciative, vigorous acting of the comedy, in the fitting environment of the Elizabethan stage, made this last recorded appearance of Epicoene an artistic success of the highest order. ^ Goldsmith, She Stoops to Conquer, 1,2. ^ Coleridge, N'otes on Benjonson (Bohn), p. 533. ^ G. P. Baker, Revival of Epicoene at Harvard College, Hai-v. Grad. Mag. 3- 493- Literary Relationships xxvii C. Literary Relationships. Of all Jonson's copiedies there is none, except it be Bartholomew Fair, in which the reader breathes an atmo- sphere so familiarly English as in Epiccene. Yet an ex- amination of the play shows it to be largely foreign in its elements, a closely-woven tissue of un-English allusions. In writing it Jonson made use of Libanius and Ovid, as frankly as he used Tacitus and Suetonius when writing Sejanus ; but in each case he used the material differently. In the first he modified and modernized narrative and expository material into a realistic English comedy ; in the second he chose an historical event, set it forth in causal relations, deepened the individuality of the characters, and brought their actions within the limits of a classic Roman tragedy. His comprehension of the spirit of a past age is complete. His power to adapt the product of that age to the spirit of his own time is masterly. Only profound scholarship could produce such works of art, the scholarship of a man who ' held the prose writers and poets of antiquity in solution in his spacious memory. He did not need to dovetail or weld his borrowings with one another, but rather, having fused them in his own mind, poured them plastically forth into the mould of thought ^' The borrowings thus fused in Epiccene are from a dozen sources, chiefly classical ; but they may be grouped under four heads, according to the use to which they are put. First, there are the sources of plot or situation ; secondly, those of character ; thirdly, those of ideas or arguments incorporated into the dialogue ; and fourthly, there is the song in the first scene, translated from an imitator of Catullus. To the plot, an oration of Libanius, the Casina of Plautus, and Shakespeare's Twelfth Night make the ' Symonds, Ben Jonson, p. 52. Cf. Lowell, Fable for Critics. xxviii Introduction most important contributions. Of the characters, Morose is taken bodily from Libanius, and Cutbeard and the * ladies-collegiates ' are suggested by the same source. Into the dialogue is introduced almost a whole satire of Juvenal, much of Ovid's Ars Amatoria, speeches from Libanius, and sentences from Virgil, Terence, Cicero, and other classic writers. I. Sources of the Plot. Libanius^. For the central plot of Epiccene, in which a nervous misanthrope marries a woman reputed to be abnormally quiet-tongued, and discovers her to be a ter- magant, Jonson is indebted to the rhetorician Libanius, the publication of whose exercises, letters, and orations is frequent from early in the sixteenth century. Just before Epiccene was written, a folio edition of Libanius came out at Paris, with a Latin translation printed in columns parallel with the original Greek text ^. We mention this book because it was in all probability the edition used by Jonson, as a Latin version is most distinctly reflected in the language of the play, and in the name of the central character. Jonson calls his hero Morose (Lat. Morosus) instead of the Greek At;o-/coAos. DECLAMATIO SEXTA, pp. 300-14, Morofns qui vxorem loquaceni duxerat, feipfum accufat, is a speech sup- posed to be made by Morose before the city fathers. The speaker describes himself as a man of quiet habits and a hater of noise, whose life, once so calm and happy, is now utterly wrecked. He has come before the judges to tell his story, and gain permission to drink hemlock and die. The cause of his misery is a woman, his wife. A matchmaking ^ Bom at Antioch, 314 a.d. Taught at Constantinople till expelled, 346. Died at Antioch, 391 a.d. 2 AIBANI0YI20*I2T0Y nPO- 1 TTMNASMATA KAI MEAETAI | LIBANII SOPHISTS I PRAELVDIA ORATORIA LXXII. | DECLAMATIONES XLV. ET I DISSERTATIONES MORALES. | FEDERICVS MORELLVS REGIVS INTERPRES I PARISIIS. M. DC VI. Literary Relationships xxix friend had recently persuaded him to marry, and he had taken to wife a woman of noble birth, highly recommended for her power to be silent. Contrary to representation, she has proved to be an insufferable talker. Her friends invaded his house in a noisy crowd immediately after the ceremony. Worse than all, she had questioned him so unceasingly at night that he could get no sleep. When he tried to thunder down her noise by repeating a line of ancient poesy, ' Est foeminis ornatui silentium ', his wife asked him who was the poet, the poet's father, his race, his education, and other unnecessary questions. Already he has resorted to the defrauding matchmaker, but received no comfort. Sick at heart, he now desires to die, wishing no one to weep for him after the poison has done its work. He only prays that the wife may live long on earth in order that he may find an interim of peace in the under-world : O dii deaeque omnes, si qnis defunctis sermonis usns est, date huic mulieri ut ad summam senectutem perveniat, quo maiore fniar apud Diteni quiete. In making use of this narrative in monologue, Jonson has chosen certain elements of the plot and added to them. He selects Morose's wedding-morning as the time of the drama's action ; he gives as a reason for Morose's hasty marriage his anger toward the nephew Dauphine ; he sub- stitutes for the Greek matchmaker the English barber, Cutbeard, to whom Morose entrusts the choosing of a wife ; he develops the suggestion of the boisterous wedding-guests into the subplot, whose characters are the crowd of ' ladies- collegiates ' and courtiers, with their ' minions and followers' ; he releases the unhappy bridegroom, not by poison, but by changing Epicoene into a boy just before the fall of the curtain. Comic as is the plot of the Greek story, it grows marvelously in the imagination of the dramatist, and develops unforeseen possibilities and complexities. In many details of incident and language, as well as in plot, likenesses may be pointed out between the oration and XXX Introduction the comedy, and without exception Jonson cleverly adapts his material to modern conditions. Jonson's debt to Libanius was first recorded by Theobald. Gifford worked along the line of the suggestion, quoting passages in his notes from the Greek text. I have chosen, for obvious reasons, to use the Latin text in setting forth here the principal similarities. The examples will be cited in the order of their occurrence in the old Libanius story. Very early in his speech to the judges Morose explains what his father's instructions had been in regard to a quiet life (p. 301}: Atenim pater meus, Senatores, hortabatur me, ut mentem semper colli- gerem et cotinerem, neve sinerem earn diffluere ; ut perspicerem ea qnae ad vitam degendam necessaria essent, quaeque non ; atque ilia quidem ample- cterer, ab aliis vero abstinere; ut denique quietem colerem, turbas fugerem. Quae etiamnum, viri Consules, facere non desino : neque conciones fre- quenter adeo, non eo quod ea quae Reip. conducunt negligam ; sed ob clamores oratorum, qui tacere nequeunt. So the English Morose explains to his legal advisers, in Act 5, the reason he seeks a divorce : ' My father, in my education, was wont to aduise mee, that I should alwayes collect and contayne my mind, not suffering it to flow loosely,' &c. (5. 3. 48 ff.). Pursuing his argument, the Greek Morose states why he so infrequently associates with those of the legal pro- fession : Nee fomm valde frequeto, propter istaec multa litium nomina, delatio, accusatio, abductio, actio, prescriptio. Quae illi etiam quib. negotiu nullum est, libenter in ore habet. This Jonson adapts delightfully in a speech. Act 4. 7. 14, where Morose complains of the noise in the court : ' Such speaking, and counter-speaking, with their seuerall voyces of citations, appellations, allegations, certificates, attach- ments, intergatories, references, conuictions, and afflictions.' In the original the afflicted man enumerates to the listening 'senatores' certain varieties of noise that are particularly distasteful to him, repeating what he had said Literary Relationships xxxi to the base friend who persuaded him to matrimony (p. 303) : Tantum vero die mihi, quali haec virgo lingua sit. nosti enim, amice, mores meos, quod nee stertente hominem ferre possim, nee singultientem, neque excreante, neq; tussi laborantem. quia plagas aceipere mnlto malle, qnam istaee tolerare. Garrulu autem ne in somnis quidem paterer. quod si m^ degere cum tali coniuge oporteret, qui putas me vivere posse ? So in 4. 4. 139 fif. the exasperated bridegroom is assured by the weeping bride's friends that she both snores and talks in her sleep. The torture of coughing he is made to endure, not by hearsay, but at first hand, 3. 4. 14 fif., where the minister who performs the wedding-ceremony suffers with a cold. When, in 5. 3. 25, the English Morose refuses to salute his counsel, exclaiming : ' I wonder, how these common formes, as god saue you, and you are well-come, are come to be a habit of our Hues ! or, / am glad to see you ! when I cannot see what the profit can bee of these wordes . . . ,' he is following closely his Greek prototype (p. 302) : Quinetiam eomunis ilia salutandi formula foro exulare deberet, quae nescio unde in vitae consnetudinem venerit, gaudere et saluere. neq; enim per Deos video quae sit horum verboru utilitas ; quando quidem non prae- clarius cu illo agitur, cui res sunt molestae et tristes, quod earn saluta- tionem atidiat. One of the most distinctively English pictures xnEpiccene is that of the London streets in the first scene of the play, where True-wit and Clerimont enumerate the familiar out- door occupations and pastimes which Morose refuses to have carried on in or around his house. No coach or cart will he allow in his street, no coster shouting his wares, no brasier tinkering with pots, no bear-ward advertising the sports of the Garden, i. i. 150 fif. Some of these are named as the destroyers of the peace of Libanius' Morose : Porro illorum offieinas imprimis fugio, quae ineudem, malleos et strepitus habent : ut puta monetariorum, aerarioru fabrorum, aliorumque eiusmodi, Eas autem artes ampleiftor, quae silentio fiunt. 'Shee has brought a wealthy dowrie in her silence, Cvtberd,' the English Morose confides to his barber, congratulating xxxii Introduction himself on his good fortune, 2. 5. 90, and echoing the old folio (p. 303) : Quidni vero paruissem, cum de silentio, dote mirifica, verba fieri audissem ? The behavior of the wedding-guests, which is described as anything but orderly and sedate in the comedy, 4. i. 2, is suggested (p. 303) : Neque enim ilia fuerant tolerabilia, plausns mnltus, risus vehemes, saltatio indecora, hymenaeus mente cares : omnia undequaque, quando Furiam illam duxi, confluxerunt, more torrentum, qui corruentes in se invicem ingentes edunt strepitus. Still on the same page the Greek Morose tells what anguish was his when the unwelcome wedding-guests were introduced to him with details of name, birth, parentage, &c. : Na cum ancillas ad se venire iussisset, discere nome cuiusque, paretum- que ; ipsaru et natorum, voluit coram me, et quot quaeque liberos habuisset, et quot obiisset. So Jonson's Morose, 3. 6. 13, hears Jack Daw announce name after name of the unexpected and uninvited guests, and finally appeals to True-wit with, ' What nomenclator is this ? ' When Morose is driven to the verge of madness by the unnecessary queries of Epiccene, 4. 4. ^$, he appeals to True-wit : *0 horrible, monstrous, impertinancies ! would not one of these haue seru'd ? ' And True-wit replies : ' Yes, sir, but these are but notes of female kindnesse, sir : certaine tokens that shea has a voice, sir ' — taking his cue from the Greek matchmaker who had answered the complaints of the original Morose thus : Certe, inquit ilia, amicitiae signu istud est, et simul est iudiciu vocis. tu vero nimis rusticus es : atqui no sic oportnit affectum esse. In this Sc. 4. 4 True-wit promises to quiet the bride, but Morose dissuades him, saying, 4. 4. 77 : ' Labour not to stop her. Shee is like a conduit-pipe, that will gush out with more force, when she opens againe.' The corresponding words of the Greek Morose are : ' Flumina prius certe starent quam istius os' (p. 306). In changing the general word ' river ' for the English concrete concept of ' conduit ', Jonson Literary Relationships xxxiii gives his hearers a local London picture. In this same scene of the comedy Morose, inspired with an idea which may silence his irrepressible bride, 4. 4. 136, suggests : ' I should doe well inough, if you could sleepe. Haue I no friend that will make her drunke ? or giue her a little ladanum ? or opium ? * Compare Libanius, p, 308 : At si ebria foret, dormiret; quod si dormiret, fortasse taceret, Istaec omnia incommoda minora sunt eo quod praesens est : omnia sunt leviora loquacitate. There is little more than a hint in Libanius, p. 307, of the highly comic scene in which the bridegroom found himself overwhelmed with the flood of wedding-guests : Garrulitate undique obrutus sum. Ut mare navigium, sic me fluctus muliebris immersit et absorbuit. Scene 3. 6 evolved from it, is one of the liveliest in the play. A last illustration of parallel passages is the speech of Morose, ^. 4. 157, in which, despairing of any escape from noise except by death, he implores to be granted ' the pleasure of dying in silence, nephew ! ' Words like these the Greek Morose addressed to his judges : Hac mihi gratia Senatores, concedite, danate me quam primum perfecta quiete: efficite ut numeru beatorum, fato functorQ, sensuq; cassorS augeam . . . verum unu hoc etiam accedat velim, ut qui cicutam mihi porriget, silentium servet (pp. 312, 313). It seems very likely that the sixth declamation of Libanius appealed to Jonson's sense of the comic before he began to write Epiccene. In Volpone, the comedy immediately pre- ceding it, there is a scene which is reminiscent of the sophist's story. In Act 3, Sc. a, Lady Politick Would-be torments Volpone, much as Epiccene torments Morose, with a tongue that will not be silenced. On p. 234, Volpone says : The poet As old in time as Plato, and as knowing, Says, that your highest female grace is silence. This was suggested doubtless from the Greek Morose's argument (p. 310), ' Est foeminis ornatui silentium ' ^. ^ Cf. infra, p. xxix. C xxxiv Introduction Plautus. Plautus has given one important contribution to the plot of Epiccene, the bringing about of the denoue- ment by revealing the sex of the supposed bride. Dauphine extracts from his despairing uncle money and a deed of gift, in exchange for a promise to annul the eldei^'s marriage. He does so by proving the bride to be a boy in disguise. As Koppel, Rapp, and Reinhardstottner ^ point out, this sort of mock wedding, followed by a ludicrous undisguising, is found in the Casina of Plautus. In the Latin comedy the enamoured old Stalino is fooled by his wife Cleostrata and her accomplice into believing the young Chalinus is the maiden Casina. The supposed maiden is wedded to Olympic, the bailiff. When Stalino and the quondam husband go to meet her at the house of Alcesimus, they find Chalinus in the garments of Casina, are both beaten by him, and made the butts of boisterous laughter. Upton pointed out three other places in Epiccene, one in which the language, the others in which the language and action, may be traced to Plautus. The first is unimportant, and occurs i. 4. 153, where True- wit says of Daw: 'No mushrome was euer so fresh. A fellow so vtterly nothing, as he knowes not what he would be.' The lines are related to Plautus, Bacch. 4. 7. 23 ' Nee sentit ; tanti'st, quanti est fungus putidus ' ^ The second reference is 2. 5. 88 ; when Cutbeard would moderate the excessive joy expressed by Morose at the discovery of a woman who knew how to be silent, the latter refuses to listen, cutting him off with — ' I know what thou woulst say, shee 's poore, and her friends deceased ; shee has brought a wealthy dowrie in her silence, Cutberd ; and in respect of her pouerty, Cutberd, I shall haue her more louing, and obedient, Cutberd.' We have already noticed that the dowry of silence is mentioned by ^ Emil Koppel, Quellen-Studien . . . Leipzig, 1895 ; T. Macci Plauti Casina, Kec. Fr. Schoell, Leipzig, 1890; M. Rapp, Studien iiber das englische Theater, p. 228; Reinhardstottner, Plautus, p. 390. * Cf. note, 2, 4. 153. Literary Relationships xxxv Libanius {stipra, p. xxxii), who, perhaps, as well as Jonson, had read the same sentiment in the Aulularia of Plautus, 2. I. 50. Here, as does Cutbeard, Eunomia shakes her head, or endeavours to speak, and Megadorus, anxious to persuade her to his way of thinking, argues : Eius cupio filiam Virginem mihi desponderi — Verba ne facias, soror : Scio quid dictura es, banc esse pauperem. Haec pauper placet. The third allusion to Plautus is 4. 4. ^^, in the de- scription Epiccene gives of the pretended madness of her husband. ' How his eyes sparkle ! He lookes greene about the temples ! Doe you see what blue spots he has ? ' Cf. Plautus, Menaechmi^. 1. 76 : MUL. Viden' tu illi oculos virere ? ut viridis exoritur color Ex temporibus atque fronte, ut oculi scintillant, vide ! Shakespeare. The third source of Jonson's plot, and the only incident traceable to an English source, is the gulling of Daw and La-Foole by True-wit in Act 4. 5. Steevens was the first to compare this scene with Twelfth Night 3. 4, and to declare Shakespeare the borrower. Gifford said of the matter^: ' There can be no doubt but that the attempt of sir Toby and Fabian to bring on a quarrel between Aguecheek and Viola, is imitated from this scene.' That it was Jonson who was the borrower the dates of the plays easily prove. The date of Twelfth Night was long conjectural, and assigned to every year from 1599 to 1614. It was finally settled by the discovery in the British Museum in 1828 of a little manuscript, the diary of John Manningham^, a student of the Middle Temple. There are entries in the diary from 1601 to 1603. On Feb. 3, i6oi, Manningham writes : At our feast we had a play called Twelfth Night or what you will, much like the comedy of errors, or Menechmis in Plautus, but most like and neere to that Italian called Inganni. A good practise in it to make the steward believe his lady widdowe was in love with him, by counterfayting ^ Jonson's Works 3. 436. 2 Camden Society Reprints. C % xxxvi Introduction a letter, as from his lady, in general termes telling him what shee liked best in him, and prescribing his gestures, inscribing his apparaile etc. and then when he came to practise, making believe they took him to be mad. Epiccene, then, is almost a decade later than Twelfth Night. In comparing Jonson's scene and the one from which it is imitated, it is evident at the outset that the former differs from the latter as an incident in a London comedy of manners and intrigue would differ from that in a comedy of romance. What is an intrinsic part of the plot in Twelfth Night becomes almost episodic in Epiccene, with a different motive for its introduction. Sir Toby, by any means he can devise, is keeping Sir Andrew Aguecheek at his niece Olivia's house, ostensibly to court the scornful countess, but really to strip Sir Andrew of his possessions. He explains, to Fabian, ' I have been to him, lad, some two thousand strong or so ' (3. 3. ^'^). The idea that the disconsolate Sir Andrew should send a challenge to his rival, the disguised Viola, pops into Sir Toby's head as another means to extract something more from the gull, for he knows ' oxen and wainropes cannot hale them together' (3. 2. 6'^). So when Andrew promises to give him his horse if he call off the fight, he promptly sets about to do it. In Epiccene the motive is punishment of two fellows who have slandered Dauphine ' before the ladies'. Without the formality of a challenge each is made to believe that the other is ready to annihilate him for some injury. In great fear each petitions for a me- diator, and unwittingly picks out the main conspirator ; each is then punished by the wronged Dauphine, who disguises himself as Daw when he tweaks the nose of Amorous, and disguises himself as Amorous when he chastises Daw. As a result the humor in the two situa- tions is unlike. Sir Toby, the cozener, is himself some- thing of a victim, for the audience, but not the old renegade, see that the countess's frightened page is a woman. In Literary Relationships xxxvii Epiccene True-wit takes into his conspiracy not only Dauphine, but Clerimont, the spectators, and finally the stage audience of ' collegiates ', and makes his day's mirth * a iest to posterity '. The humor is far more genial which makes Sir Toby less of a victimizer than he believes him- self to be, and justly divides the laughter between him and his cowardly victims. The same genial humor awakens a sympathy for Viola, in her unwilling participation in a fight into which she is undeservedly drawn, a sympathy not felt at the belaboring of Daw and the nose-tweaking of La-Foole. The similarity between the scenes consists primarily in the setting on of two cowards to fight, but secondarily in details of description and expression. The note of sur- prise which Sir Toby strikes as he advises Viola to beware of her enemy, when she has never dreamed of the existence of one, True-wit admirably echoes in announcing to La- Foole Daw's mortal defiance. In Twelfth Night 3. 4. 238 ff., the challenge is thus delivered : Sir To. Gentleman, God save thee. Vio. And you, sir. Sir To. That defence thou hast, betake thee to 't : of what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know not ; but thy intercepter, full of despite, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the orchard-end: dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skilful and deadly. Vio. You mistake, sir ; I am sure no man hath any quarrel to me : my remembrance is very free and clear from any image of offence done to any man. Sir To. You'll find it otherwise, I assure you : therefore, if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your guard ; for your opposite hath in him what youth, strength, skill, and wrath can furnish man withal. Vio. I pray you, sir, what is he? Sir To. He is knight, dubbed with unhatched rapier and on carpet con- sideration ; but he is a devil in private brawl : souls and bodies hath he divorced three ; and his incensement at this moment is so implacable, that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death and sepulchre. Hob, nob, is his word ; give 't or take 't. Vio. I will return again into the house and desire some conduct of the lady. I am no fighter . . . Sir To. Sir, no ; his indignation derives itself out of a very competent injury : therefore get you on and give him his desire . . . xxxviii Introduction Vio. This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech yon, do me this courteous office, as to know of the knight what my offence to him is : it is something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose. At this point Sir Toby departs, pretending that he will, if possible, appease Sir Andrew, and leaves the frightened Viola in the care of Fabian. With Sir Toby's encounter compare that of True-wit and La-Foole, which begins, 4. 5- '^SS, thus : Trv^ Enter here, if you loue your life. La-F. Why! why! Trv. Question till your throat bee cut, doe : dally till the enraged soule find you. La-F. Who's that? Trv. Daw it is ; will you in ? La-F. I, I, I'll in : what 's the matter ? Trv. Nay, if hee had beene coole inough to tell vs that, there had beene some hope to attone you, but he seemes so implacably enrag'd. La-F. 'Slight, let him rage. I'll hide my selfe. Trv. Doe, good sir. But what haue you done to him within, that should prouoke him thus ? you haue broke some iest vpon him, afore the ladies La-F. Not I, neuer in my life, broke iest vpon any man . . . Trv. . . . but hee walkes the round vp and downe, through euery roome o' the house, with a towell in his hand, crying, where 's La-Foole ? who saw La-Foole ? To Sir Toby's description of Sir Andrew above there are some likenesses in True-wit's description of La-Foole to Daw, 4. 5. 76 ff., where he maintains ' Bloud he thirsts for, and bloud he will haue : and where-abouts on you he will haue it, who knows, but himself?' This resembles Sir Toby's assurance of the necessity of ' the pang of death and sepulchre '. There is a reminiscence of Viola's suggestion that she return to the house for protection in La-Foole's proposal, 4.5.184: I'll stay here, till his anger be blowne ouer . . . Or, I'll away into the country presently . . . Sir, I'll giue him any satisfaction. I dare giue any termes. Turning back to the scene in Twelfth Night, we find Literary Relationships xxxix that on Sir Toby's departure to seek out Sir Andrew, Viola asks Fabian : I beseech you, what manner of man is he ? Fab. Nothing of that wonderful promise to read him by his form, as you are like to find him in the proof of his valour. He is, indeed, sir, the most skilful, bloody and fatal opposite that you could possibly have found in any part of Illyria. Will you walk toward him ? I will make your peace with him if I can. Vio. I shall be much bound to you for 't : I am one that had rather go with sir priest than sir knight : I care not who knows so much of my mettle. Viola's frankness about her cowardice is a trait which both Daw and La-Foole possess. Her anxiety to have a mediator not only in Sir Toby, but in Fabian, is also found in Jonson's gulls. In the Twelfth Night scene, on the entrance of Sir Toby and the unwilling challenger of the fight, the former terrifies Sir Andrew with : Why, man, he 's a very devil ; I have not seen such a firago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard and all, and he gives me the stuck-in with such a mortal motion, that it is inevitable; and on the answer, he pays you as surely as your feet hit the ground they step on. They say he has been fencer to the Sophy. With this picture of Viola as an invincible wielder of the rapier, we may compare the portrait of La-Foole, 4. 5. 107 : Hee has got some-bodies old two-hand-sword, to mow you off at the knees. And that sword hath spawn'd such a dagger ! . . . There was neuer fencer challeng'd at so many seuerall foiles. After Sir Toby's description of Viola given above, Sir Andrew's courage all oozes away : Pox on't, I'll not meddle with him. Sir To. Ay, but he will not now be pacified : Fabian can scarce hold him yonder. Sir And. Plague on't, an I thought he had been valiant, and so cunning in fence, I 'Id have seen him damned ere I 'Id have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip, and I'll give him my horse, grey Capulet. Sir To. I'll make the motion : stand here, make a good show on't : this shall end without the perdition of souls. {Aside.) Marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I ride you. Re-enter Fabian and Viola. {To Fabian^ I have his horse to take up the quarrel: I have persuaded him the youth 's a devil. xl Introduction Fab. He is as horribly conceited of him ; and pants and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels. Sir To. (7v kariaa-iv : Rep. ID. 6l2 A, et al. To Virgil there are three references, all comically adapted. True-wit calls himself a ' night-crow ' uttering ' left-handed cries' (3. 5. 16). Cf Virgil, Eclogue 9. 15 'Ante sinistra cava monuisset ab ilice cornix ' ; Horace, Ode 3. 27. 15 ' Teque nee laevus vetet ire picas. Nee vaga cornix ' ; and Plautus, Asinaria 2. i. 12 ' Picus et cornix est ab laeva ; corvus porro ab dextera '. Gifford calls attention to the source of Haughty 's aphorism, 4. 3. 41, as Georgics Optima quaeque dies miseris mortalibus aevi Prima fugit. The third use of Virgil's lines is made by True-wit, when he says with mock gravity to trembling John Daw, 4. 5. 58 : ' I vnderstood . . . that you had held your life contemptible in regard to your honor.' Cf. Aeneid 9. 205, 206 : Est hie, est animus lucis contemptor, et istum Qui vita bene credat emi, quo tendis, honoremi When True-wit pretends to Daw, 4. 5. 166, that Amorous calls upon him to forfeit ' your vpper lip, and sixe o' your fore-teeth ', Whalley refers to a similar fanciful punishment administered in the old romance of Huon de Bourdeaux : ' On ordonna au pauvre chevalier Huon de ne rentrer point en France, qu'il n'eust este lui arracher la barbe, et quatre dents maschelieres.' The light satiric thrust at the romances is repeated in substance, 4. i. ^'j. Literary Relationships Iv In 5. 3. 107 True-wit comforts Morose with a sympathetic ejaculation out of Terence, Heaut. 2. 3. 9, where Syrus exclaims, * Quanta de spe decidi ! ' Morose, in the climax of his despair at obtaining a release from his termagant wife, 5. 4. 150, parodies St. Chrysostom with ' This is worst of all worst worsts ' from '12 KaKov KaK&v KaKta-Tov, which should be, says Whalley, ' This is worst, of all worsts, worst '. 3. Source of the lyric ^ Still to be neat\ In the opening scene of the comedy Clerimont's boy sings a lyric of two stanzas, modeled on the mediaeval Latin lyric. Simplex Mtmditiis, a poem ascribed by Gifford and others to Jean Bonnefons, a mediaeval imitator of Catullus, who lived at Clermont, Auvergne, and died some four years after the production of Epicoene. In Notes and Qtieries,g\h Scries 6, Sept. 29, 1900, Mr. Percy Simpson ques- tions the authorship, affirming that the lines are not in the edition of Bonnefons, 1592, or in Delitiae Poetarmn Gallorum, 1609, The verses are thus left anonymous, although their first appearance is known to have been among certain poems appended to editions of the Satyricon of Petronius (e. g. 15^5, 1597). Mr. Simpson prints from Bonnefons's Pancharis verses in tone so much like that of Simplex Mtmdiiiis, that a confusion of the two poems is not surprising : Ad Fr. Myronerii Senatoreiti Parisienseni. Sit in deliciis puella, Myro, Quae Claris radiat superba gemmis, Quae monilibus atque margaritis Tota conspicua atque onusta tota est : Sit in deliciis amoiibusque Quae creta sibi, quaeque purpurisso Et veneficiis colorat ora. Placet, Myro, mihi puella simplex Cui nativa genas rubedo pingit, Nativusque pudor : placet puella Ore virgineo et decente cultu, Ivi Introduction Artis nescia negligensque fuci. Placet denique quae nihil monilis, Nil gemmae indiga, nilque margaritae, PoUet ipsa satis suapte forma. The verses which served Jonson as a model are as follows : Semper munditias, semper, Basilissa, decores, Semper compositas arte recente comas, Et comptos semper cultus, tinguentaque semper, Omnia soUicita compta videre manu, Non amo. Neglectim mihi se quae comit amica Se det ; et ornatus simplicitate valet. Vincula ne cures capitis discussa soluti, Nee ceram in faciem : mel habet ilia suum. Fingere se semper non est confidere amori ; Quid quod saepe decor, cum prohibetur, adest? Partly because of clever True-wit, and partly because of the roles of Otter and Cutbeard, who smatter Latin and easily evolve into a learned divine and a lawyer, Epiccene bristles with Latin expletives, ' old remnants ', proverbs, and occasionally a quotation. The former are too in- significant to collect ; but the direct citations are here enumerated. True-wit derogates Cutbeard to his master, 5. 5. 37, by quoting Horace, Sat. i. 7. 3 'Omnibus et lippis notum et tonsoribus esse.' Otter noisily urges his companions to drink, 4. 2. 19, shouting: ' Et rauco stre- puerunt cornua cantu ', from the Aeneid 8. 2. Growing more and more bold he begs Sir Amorous to drink and fear no cousins, 4. 2. 43, for ' lacta est alea ', the old proverb connected with Caesar's name in Suetonius 1. 32. As Otter again passes round the cups, 4. 2. 69, he calls on the trumpeters to play, and increases their noise with his sonorous ' Nunc est bibendum, nunc pede libero ', from Horace, Ode i. 37. i. With this list of quotations we close our consideration of the sources to which Epiccene is indebted for plot and incident, for dialogue, song, and quotation. Literary Relationships Ivii 4. Literary Descendants. It was inevitable that so popular a play as Epiccene should have imitators and echoers ; it is surprising that they are of so comparatively little importance, and so few. The comedy most closely modeled on Epica^ne is The City Match, by Jasper Mayne, played in 1639, and to be found in Hazlitt-Dodsley, Old Plays, vol. 13. Peter Plotwell, the Dauphine of the later comedy, to circumvent a miserly uncle, Warehouse, and keep him from marrying and dis- inheriting the nephew, plays upon him a trick. Instead of contriving a marriage, as did Dauphine, which was eventually invalidated by proving the supposed bride a boy, Plotwell arranges to marry Warehouse to a girl, Dorcas, whom he himself has just wedded, and to have the ceremony performed by a mock vicar. Dorcas has been instructed to have Warehouse sign over his property to her before the ceremony, thus insuring it to the nephew, her husband. As for the other people in the story, Plot- well has a sister Aurelia, who is a serious interpretation of the Haughty- Mavis type, and is known as one of the ' philosophical madams '. She marries a young gull for his money. There are various episodes necessitating much disguising, and dialogue of no profit and little pleasure. Two characters, Bright and Newcut, are ghosts of True-wit and Clerimont ; Bannswright, the pander, takes the place of Cutbeard. There is to be granted to this comedy a certain dash and sprightliness. Indeed, I find recorded from Blackwood' s Magazine 11. 195-301 : * It deserves to rank' amongst the best of our early comedies, and the rich vein of humour which runs throughout will ever cause it to be perused with pleasure.' But it is entirely unworthy such praise. As illustration of some of the minor imitations of Epi- ccene found in the City Match, we would point out the ' Acts and Monuments ' joke in the latter. Act 2, Sc. 3, Iviii Introduction p. 237 in Haz.-Dods., and Epiccene i. 2. 9; the description of the old widow, City Match 2. 4, p. 237, and that of Mrs. Otter, Epiccene 4. a. 92 ff. ; the account of ' strange sights', City Match 3. 3, p. 248, and Epiccene 2. 2. 34 fif. ; the speech of Seathrift, City Match 3. 3, p. 265, and that in Epiccene 2. 2. 3. Seathrift : ' Ha' you seen too a Gorgon's head that you stand speechless? or are you a fish in earnest ? ' Warehouse determines to marry in- stantly, 3. 3, pp. 266-7, in a speech modeled after Morose, 2. 5 ; Seathrift refers to the silenc'd ministers, 4. i, p. 273, as does Trw^-^W.^ Epiccene 2. 6. 17; Plotwell discourages Aurelia's marriage with a clever man, 4. 2, p. 276, as True-wit does Morose's marriage with a clever woman, Epiccene 2. 2 ; the joke which Trusty makes, 4. 4. 117, about the 'Preacher that would preach folks asleep still ', is repeated by Aurelia, 4. 2, p. 276 : A Sir John . . . that preaches the next parish once a week Asleep for thirty pounds a year. Many other examples of detailed similarities might be indicated, but this list should be sufficient to prove what the most casual reader of the City Match ought to observe — that the author owes most of what is good in his comedy to Ben Jonson ; but by interpreting seriously the satiric dialogue of Jonson's play he has introduced much that is disgusting rather than clever. After the City Match may be mentioned the Rival Friends, acted in 1631 and printed in 1632, the play to which attention is directed in the article on Jonson in the Dictionary of National Biography. The play, which is very rare, I have not seen ; but there is a copy of it in the Barton Collection of the Boston Public Library, Its author, Peter Hansted, was a vicar of Gretton, and the author of several miscellaneous works. Accounts of him may be found in the Dictionary of National BiograpJiy ; Allibone's Diet, of Authors \ Wood's A then. Oxon., Biog. Dram.-, Langbaine's Dram. Poets, in which it is said : ' Our author seems to be Literary Relationships lix much of the humour of Ben Johnson (whose greatest weakness was that he could not bear censure) ; and J. O. Halliwell notes in the Diet, of Old Eng. Plays, p. 211: ' The scene between Loveall, Mungrell, and Hammershin in the third act, is copied from that between True-wit, Daw, and La-Foole in the fourth act of Ben Jonson's Silent Wommi. The third play to be named owes less than the first two to Epicoene\ but who can read the second act of She Stoops to Conquer, in which Hastings encourages the ' modest Marlowe ' to meet Kate Hardcastle, and not be convinced that Goldsmith had laughed over the dialogue between the bashful Dauphine and the experienced True-wit. Cf. Epiccene 4. i. The Spectator 251, surely derived a suggestion at least from Epiccene. Ralph Crotchet here describes a ' splenetic gentleman ' who bargained with a noisy vender of cord matches never to come into the street where he lived— with the result that on the following day all the cord-match- makers in London came to be bought off in like manner. Long before Morose ' has beene vpon diuers treaties with the Fish-wiues and Orenge-women ; and articles propounded betweene them '. When Scrooge in the Christmas Carol rails at his nephew on Christmas-eve about the futility of any compliments of the season, and indeed about the futility of any gracious or courteous greeting between man and man, it is almost as if Morose were repeating Epiccene 5. 3. 25 : Salute 'hem 1 I had rather doe anything, then weare out time so vn- fruitfully, sir. I wonder how these common formes, as god saue yoti, and yoii are ivell-come, are come to be a habit in our Hues, or, / am glad to see you I when I cannot see, what the profit can bee of these wordes, so long as it is no whit better with him , whose affaires are sad and grieuous, that he heares this salutation. Compare with this The Christmas Carol, Stave One. • A merry Christmas, uncle ! God save you ! ' . . . ' Bah ! ' said Scrooge. ' Humbug ! Merry Christmas ! . . . What right Ix Introduction have you to be merry ? What reason have yon to be merry ? You're poor enough.' ' Come then,' returned the nephew gaily, ' what right have you to be dismal ? What reason have you to be morose ? You're rich enough 1 . . . Don't be cross, uncle ! * ' What else can I be when I live in such a world of fools as this ? Merry Christmas ! Out upon Merry Christmas ! What 's Christmas time to you but for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself a year older, but not an hour richer ; ... If I could work my will, every idiot who goes about with " Merry Christmas" on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should ! ' In her weakness for language, and her relish for ' ex- cellent choice phrase', Mrs. Otter has had many male kinsmen before and since her generation — Gobbos, Dog- berrys, and their ilk ; but the most famous of her descen- dants is Mrs. Malaprop, who surpasses the would-be lady- collegiate in the ' use of her oracular tongue ' and ' a nice derangement of epitaphs '. The works of Ben Jonson are sometimes claimed to have had direct influence upon the dramas of a kindred genius of the same century and another nation ^. Students both, their work represents not only original creation, but skilful borrowing and adaptation from classic and contemporary sources. Jonson might have said, as did Moliere when likenesses were pointed out between his Foiirberies de Scapin and Le Pedant joue of Cyrano de Bergerac, ' Je prends mon bien ou je le trouve '. The inherent like- nesses of the men make it difficult to discern whether or not the comedies of the dramatist, whose VEtourdi (1653) received recognition three decades after The Tale of a Tub was written, may be said to be in any sense literary descendants oi Epiccene. A comparison of the half-dozen comedies of Moliere which most resemble this play brings a negative answer. Les Preciettses ridicides (1659) and Les Feinvies savantes ' Leser, Eugene, On the relation of Ben Jonson'' s '■Epiccene ' to Moliire''s "■ Mideci7t malgre lui' and 'Femmes savantes,^ Mod. Lang. Notes, 7 (1892); 8, pp. 489 ff. Literary Relationships Ixi (1671) bear comparison with the ' collegiates ', and the poetaster element in Epicozne. Le Medecin malgre lui (1666) satirizes the medical profession, as Cutbeard and Otter may be said to do that of ecclesiastical law; be- sides, it contains opinions concerning silence, a woman's greatest virtue. In UAvare (1667) Harpagon, like Morose, loves his money and pays court to a young woman. Le Misanthrope (1668) is the study of an egotist's withdrawal from society, but it entirely lacks the farcical treatment given the English misanthrope. Les Fourberies de Scapin (1671) has a trick-loving hero like True- wit, who vic- timizes two men with much the same device used to gull Daw and La-Foole (4. 5). Although both authors ridicule similar subjects, im- postors and parasites, pretenders to wit, learning, and social prestige ; although comic action is sometimes similar, tricks played, and punishment given by the same means ; although comic ideas in Jonson are used to raise laughter in the comedies of Moliere, there is no proof that Jonson was necessarily the source, in any case, of the character, in- cident, or idea. Resemblances are accounted for by the kinship of genius, and of the society in which these men wrote, and by the identity of the classic drama which served as models for both. D. Critical Estimate of Epicgene. From the time Dryden picked out Epiccene as the ' pattern of a perfect play ' ^, and preferred it, ' before all other plays, I think justly, as I do its author, in judgement before all other poets ' ^ students of the drama have accorded the comedy a high place. Coleridge ^ is faintest in his praise, whereas Ward, while conceding that, * so far as the foundations of its plot are concerned, Epiccene would be properly described as an elaborate farce ', believes ^ Essays, ed. Ker, i. 79. ^ Ibid. i. 131. ^ Notes on Ben Jonson, Bohn, p. 42. Ixii Introduction it to be 'of its kind without a rival, unless we turn to the writings of a comic dramatist worthy to rank as Jonson's peer '^ — Moliere. To Symonds ^ and to Swinburne " it is a ' Titanic farce ' ; to Taine ^ ' a masterpiece ', ' an enchanting farce ' ; to Schlegel ^ it is the equal of Volpone and The Alchemist in the excellence of its plot; to Hazlitt^, who, like Schlegel, is repelled by Jonson's satiric spirit and love of the grotesque, it is the greatest of Jonson's comedies. So much for the critics' opinions. First, to Epicoene belongs the distinction of breaking the convention which assigned comic action to a foreign or fustian country. Unlike its predecessors, its scene is London, and, with a minuteness that is astounding, the Jacobean city is portrayed bustling with life and laughter. Streets are noisy with tradesmen, showmen, bearwards, gallants on horseback, and ladies in coaches ; Whitehall, Paris Garden, and the Cockpit teem with pleasure-seeking courtiers, citizens, and apprentices. It may even be objected that this multiplicity of detail and local reference obscure a picture where the larger outlines are neglected. But the objection does not hold for the reader who knows some- thing of the history of social England, nor for the spectator for whom the comedy was originally written. Moreover, local reference is unavoidable in comedy depicting the manners of a given time and country, which Jonson defi- nitely undertakes to do. Secondly, the intrigue deserves comment. Dryden's eulogy '^ is extravagant : ' The intrigue ... is the greatest and most noble of any pure unmixed comedy in any language ' ; yet the plot is singularly well contrived, full of movement, dash, and wit. If the scenes taken from Ovid ^ Ward, History of Eng. Dram. Lit. 2. 365. ^ Shakespeare s Predecessors, p. 52. ^ A Study of Ben Jonson, p. 42. * English Lit. i. 342, 344. ' Drain. Art and Lit., p. 465. * Ejig. Comic Writers, Bohn, p. 54. ^ Essays, ed. Ker, i. 72. Critical Estimate of Epicoene Ixiii and Juvenal luxuriate in dialogue and retard the action temporarily, it is not without the consciousness of the dramatist, who considers such scenes an essential charac- teristic of the comedy in which 'repartee is one of the chiefest graces; the greatest pleasure of the audience is a chase of wit, kept up on both sides, and swiftly managed '. Besides, in every wit-combat Jonson accomplishes some second purpose, exhibiting the character of the speakers, describing persons to be introduced, recounting incidents taking place off the stage, or satirizing existent follies. The intrigue in its main outline is quite conventional, an impoverished knight scheming to obtain property from a rich and miserly uncle. The originality of the dramatist is shown in his treatment of the theme, in his manner of bringing about the denojiement, and in the diversity of characters, with the tormented old misanthrope in their midst. The ingenious device by which all the characters, even the chief victim, unwittingly further the nephew's scheme, makes possible a story in which the interest never flags, but grows to a climax in the surprise which the nephew keeps in store, for his fellows and for the spectators, till the final scene. The plot runs in this wise. Morose, having wished to disinherit his nephew, has found, through the agency of his barber, a quiet, respectable woman, whom he may marry. He did not know that Cutbeard was in Dauphine's pay, and had heard of the woman through the nephew, who confides to some of his friends that the bride-to-be has promised to divide the fortune with him. The play opens on the wedding-morning, when a hasty marriage takes place, despite the disinterested interference of True- wit. The ceremony being over, the nephew and friends throng the house, and make the old man miserable. Among the guests are Dauphine's friends, True-wit and Clerimont, two boastful cowardly knights. Daw and La-Foole, a bear- garden captain, Otter, and his wife, and a group of idle, Ixiv Introduction affected women. Morose, outraged by the behavior of his bride and her friends, seeks a divorce. The barber and captain, disguised by True-wit, expound the canonical im- pediments to him. Determined to escape the ' wedlock noose' at any cost, Morose lies in regard to the twelfth, but is defeated by Epicoene's refusal to give him up. The two knights then bear witness that Morose is a deceived husband, and released by the tenth impediment ; but the lawyer's interpretation of the clause defeats him again. Finally, Dauphine promises to release his disgraced relation from his marriage contract for certain money considera- tions. The uncle yields, and the nephew fulfils his promise, to the astonishment of his confederates, by pulling off the disguise of the talkative bride and alleged mistress of Sir John Daw and Sir Amorous La-Foole, and showing Epicoene to be a boy. Such a tale, with its subordinate episodes of wooing, playing pranks, and revenging practical jokes, is enough to make ' the mighty chests of the com- panions of Drake and Essex shake with uncontrollable laughter ' ^. There is, of course, a certain disregard of probabilities, but this fact obtrudes itself little because of the relation of the episodes to the important matter of Morose's marriage. Moreover, from this charge no comedy is free which resorts to disguise, although in this case — because of the prevailing custom of wearing masks among fashionable women — less exception can be taken. Nor from the same charge are comedies free which are built with the form and proportion of classic models, as is eminently true of Epiccene. Corneille and Racine never obeyed the unities more closely than does Jonson in this comedy. As for time — the play opens as Clerimont dresses himself for the day, surely no earlier than ten o'clock, and ends two or three hours after dinner, at latest three o'clock in the afternoon. As for action— the outline just given of the plot shows how ^ Taine, Eng. Lit. I. 343. Critical Estimate of Epicoene Ixv connected and complete it is, despite its complexity, and how the numerous episodes gain an air of naturalness by the fact that they occur on a day which uncle and nephew have used every contrivance to bring about. As for place — though Dryden is in error when he says the action ' lies all within the compass of two houses, and after the first act in one ' ,^ yet unity of place is carefully observed. One scene is in Clerimont's lodgings, one in Daw's, one at Mrs. Otter's house, one in a lane close by, and the re- maining; scenes are in the house of Morose. But the five places are in the immediate neighbourhood of one another : Epicoene is ' lodg'd i' the next street ' ^ to Morose, ' right ouer against the barbers ; where Sir Iohn Daw lyes ' ^. Mrs. Otter's home is ' but ouer the way, hard by ' ^. The classic rules of proportion are observed, no less than the unities. Act i is an admirable protasis, introducing character after character, but revealing not at all the direc- tion the action will take from the given situation. From the beginning of Act 2 to the meeting of the bride, Act 3. 4, is the epitasis. The catastasis, embroiling Morose in many new difficulties, grows to a climax in the last scene of Act 5, where the catastrophe occurs, one ' so admirable, that, when it is done, no one of the audience would think the poet could have missed it ; and yet it was concealed so much before the last scene that any other way would sooner have entered into your thoughts ^.' The purpose of Epicoene ' to profit and delight ' ** is as classical as the structure. Jonson's method of achieving the first is by making ridiculous the follies of his contem- poraries, and the second, by using interesting story, comic episode, and witty dialogue. The subjects of satire are the frivolous court ladies, the vulgar citizen's wife, the noise-hating misanthrope, the amorous knight, the poetaster, ^ Essays, ed. Ker, i. 83. ^ Epicosne i. 2. 28. ^ ibid. I. 2. 59. * ibid. 3. 3. 67. ' Dryden, Essays, ed. Ker, i. 86. * Epiccene, ANOTHER 2. Ixvi Introduction the barber, incapable of holding his tongue, and the bear- garden captain. Jonson resorts not only to dramatic satire, and renders his characters contemptible by their actions and words, but to expository satire as well ; and all the characters to a slight degree, but especially True-wit, are mouth-pieces for the dramatist's invective. Several follies are exploited in a single character, and whipped, if a lash be handy. The follies and the punishment excite laughter rather than sympathy and pity, so much so, that the purpose of delighting the spectators seems more amply fulfilled than the purpose of profiting them. This is true of the allot- ments of reward, as well as of punishment, it is the clever, not the honest, man that wins his end : Cutbeard gets the lease of his house, though he has deceived Morose at every turn ; True-wit and Clerimont by unparalleled prevarication are always victorious, until Dauphine's coup in Act 5 ; poor Daw and La-Foole are punished, not for immorality, but because * you may take their vnderstandings in a purse- net '. Even the main objects of satire, Morose and the ' ladies-collegiates ', are made contemptible with emphasis less on moral than intellectual shortcomings. Though both are pointed out, it is the social monstrousness of the isolated misanthrope on the one hand, and the loose-lived women on the other, that Jonson judges, and the judgment is made with a bitterness engendered by his own surly nature, and inherited from the scourgers of society in classic times. This bitterness of tone neither the gaiety of in- cident nor of dialogue quite counteracts. Epiccene contains no distinctly moral personage. Even True-wit, the pedant, the expositor of morals, delights in lying, and ' invents from mere phlegm '. This comes, not because Jonson lacks a conscience, but because his is an ' imperturbable intel- lectual conscience ', which enjoys less showing virtue ad- mirable than showing vice laughable and contemptible. In all his comic characters, even those in Epiccene, where on the whole the satire is lighter than is his custom, Jonson Critical Estimate of Epicosne Ixvii judges humanity first according to an intellectual and social standard, and last by a moral one. Jonson's lack of sympathy with his comic victim is so complete in the punishment of Morose that the comic element is in danger of being lost, as it is lost in the punish- ment of Shylock, and in that of Sir Giles Overreach, who, in Massinger's New Way to Pay Old Debts, fails in a scheme to circumvent his nephew, and goes mad. Certainly the conception of the comic changes from generation to generation, and fewer things, at least very different things, challenge laughter, as the dignity of the individual comes to be recognized. But comic punishment always defeats itself when it goes beyond a deserved and temporary humiliation and passes into the realm of the irretrievable. In the case of Morose, it is not so much the fact as the spirit of the punishment which is harsh and unfitted for comedy. * I'll not trouble you, till you trouble me with your funerall, which I care not how soone it come.' If, in- stead of this derision, Jonson could have sent a smile of sympathy after the defeated old man, the effect would have been happier, but it would have been antagonistic to the satiric nature of his genius^. Moreover, his very method of character-creation barred out such an end. He had a scholar's curiosity in psychology, and looked at men as governed in their actions by some peculiar attribute of character. Therefore he constructed a comic personage by choosing a general idea or ruling passion, adding other qualities, and bestowing upon it a typical name. So logically made a product is apt to be without soul ; its very name lends it an air of unreality, and the author regards it im- personally, as an instrumentto respond to his touch. It is trite to say that Jonson lays himself open to criticism in these points, and that only in his greatest creations, by sheer force of will, has he overcome the difficulties of his ^ Cf. the punishment of Alceste in Le Misanthrope. e a Ixviii Introduction analytic method and his palpably unsympathetic attitude, and, in spite of both, created beings who live. He has done so in Volpone and in Sir Epicure Mammon. Has he done so in Morose? Some critics, the greatest among them Coleridge and Taine, answer in the negative, while others, Dryden and GifTord, answer in the affirmative. Taine denominates Morose ' a mania gathered from the old sophists, a babbling with horror of noise. . . . The poet has the air of a doctor who has undertaken to record exactly all the desires of speech, all the necessities of silence, and to record nothing else ^.' Taine would object, then, that Morose remains an abstract idea or ' humor ' throughout the play. Coleridge asserts that 'the defect in Morose lies in this — that the accident is not a promi- nence growing out of, and nourished by, the character which still circulates in it, but that the character, such as it is, rises out of, or rather consists in, the accident ^. Taine's objection is easily answered by showing Morose to be not so attenuated a character as he believes. In addition to hatred of noise and love of his own voice, Morose is an egotist, a miser, a tyrant with his servants, and a victim to senile love. Coleridge's criticism pierces to the root of the matter, but it, too, is answered by showing that Morose's sensitiveness to noise is simply an outgrowth of exaggerated misanthropy. The story of the comedy makes this plain. A nephew needs money ; his uncle has plenty, but refuses to help him ; the nephew then schemes to extort money from the uncle, not only a present sum, but the whole inheritance, which is his by right ; he succeeds. The nephew's purpose is attained by playing, first on his latent susceptibility to youthful charm, and then on his horror of noise. Dryden saw that Morose's physical aversion to noise was due to deeper causes, and wrote : ' We may consider him first to be naturally of a delicate hearing, as many are, to * Eng. ZzV. t. 325. ^ Literary Remains 2. 279. Critical Estimate of Epicoene Ixix whom all sharp sounds are unpleasant ; and secondly, we may attribute much of it to the peevishness of his age, or the wayward authority of an old man in his own house ^.' As if it could strengthen his argument, Dryden repeated a tradition imparted to him by ' diverse persons, that Ben Johnson was actually acquainted with such a man, one altogether as ridiculous as he is here represented '. Upton and Whalley also attacked the character of Morose. It was in defending him against these students of Jonson that Gifford charged them with mistaking Jonson's meaning. Morose's dislike of noise ' is an acci- dental quality altogether dependent upon the master- passion, or "humor/' a most inveterate and odious self- love. This will explain his conduct in many places where it has been taxed with inconsistency, and vindicate the deep discernment of the poet ^.' We choose to think of Morose thus : to take him, despite his ridiculousness, to a certain extent seriously ; to place him, because of the mental and moral source of his ridi- culousness, with legitimate comic characters. He may be adequately understood through his speech and actions in the comedy of which he is the central figure, ' and to under- stand a character is to recognize it as true to nature. If it can be traced home to that fountain-head, and if the cir- cumstances which effect its development. act upon it in consonance with its real " humor ", all has been done which can be done by dramatic characterization ^.' Sir John Daw and Sir Amorous La-Foole are the greatest triumphs in character-drawing that the comedy affords. In the first Jonson shows the irresistibly comic aspects of the garrulous, ignorant, would-be poet and statesman, who ' buys titles, and nothing else of bookes in him ', who has no reverence for the achievements of scholar or artist, but proclaims his own virtues with harmless insistence. In the ' Essays, ed. Ker, p. i. 83 ff. ^ Jonson's Works 3. 399. ^ Ward, Hist, of Eng. Dram. Lit. 2. 405. Ixx Introduction second is ridiculed the courtier whose love of feminine society and the family name incite him to plan continual festivities, invite his guests ' aloud, out of his windore ', and ' giue 'hem presents ... to be laught at '. Both are types of extreme cowardice, and the picture Jonson has drawn of them in the famous scene in Act 4, where they are ready to give ' any satisfaction, sir, but fighting ', is immortal. John Daw in his madrigal scene is reminiscent of Mathew ^ ; in his criticisms of the ancients, of Tucca and Ovid Senior^ ; in his knowledge of titles, of Clove ^ ; while Asotus is his legitimate ancestor, letting Crites call him without rebuke Jack-dcnu'^; and Madrigal inherits his qualities of a bad versifier and worse critic ^. Jonson had grown practised in making ' braveries ' also, before he reached the height of his success in Amorous, whose weakness for the ladies had been the ' humour ' of Fastidious Brisk, and whose slavery to fashion had been shared by Mathew, Sogliardo, and Asotus. Jonson uses both Daw and La-Foole as vehicles for his satire on the gallants of the day — their extravagant habits of speech and dress, their attempted witticisms, assumed melancholy, and various affectations. There is not space for all the diverse and admirable characters of Epicoene to be discussed, but a word is due to the ' ladies-collegiates ' upon whose periwigged and poma- tumed heads Jonson poured his most humiliating satire. This group of women represent various social spheres, but they are all satirized for ungrounded pretention to know- ledge and worldly position, for their manifold affectations, and their frankly profligate behavior. To identify the organizations aimed at in ' the new foundation ', is as un- necessary as it is impossible, but it is agreed that women's clubs existed, as Ward says, ' devoted to the pursuit of a very undesirable course of education' ^. Colman asserts that ^ Every Man In 4. i, p. 99. ° Poet. i. i, p. 380, * Every Man Out 3. i, p, 95. * Cyji. Rev. 5. 2, p. 323. ^ S. of Neius 4. I, p. 255. ^ Hist, of Eng. Dram, Lit. 2. 366. Critical Estimate of Epicoene Ixxi in his day they were to be found in London ^, and Gififord's account of the matter is that ' some combinations of the kind ' existing at the time Epicoene was written were ex- posed with such overwhelming contempt that ' no traces of them, as here drawn, are ever afterwards discoverable. Our days have witnessed an attempt to revive the " collegiates " — but this was a water-suchy club, merely ridiculous ; and so unsubstantial as not to require the clarion of the cock, but " to melt into thin air " at the twittering of a wren ' 2. Later, Moli^re exposed with a lighter touch, but with much the same fearlessness and unmitigated derision, the pedantry and affectations of the women of his generation. But he did not, like Jonson, depict unmoral beings. Jonson's lack of sympathetic insight is always apparent in his por- trayal of women, and never more so than here. These heartless, soulless ladies bustle through the comedy, con- ciliating the men, and betraying one another, professedly searching for admiration. There is not an alleviating quality to divide among the group, unless it be found in the broadly comical character of Mrs. Otter, who is after all only a pretender to the ' college honours '. She is an excellent foil for the exquisite ladies, and her awkward attempts to imitate them, her ignorance, and her high- flown language, make her a natural and not unwholesome comic figure. When we come to the question whether Epiccsne be- longs to comedy, or to farce, we must recognize that the classification depends on the interpretation given these words. There is no doubt that Jonson, working with classic models in mind, intended to produce a pure comedy^. Modern love of exactness has given to the ^ Supra, p. xix. "^ Jonson's Works 3. 481. ' Aristotle, Poetics, ed. Butcher, 5. 21 : 'An imitation of people of mean type, having some defect or ugliness not painful.' Sidney, Defeytse of Poesy, ed. Cook, p. 28 : ' An imitation of the common errors of our life, which he representeth in the most ridiculous and scornful sort that may be, so as it is impossible that any beholder can be content to be such a one.' Ixxii Introduction lower sorts of comedy the name farce, where, however, according to the latest dictionary definition of the term, Epiccene does not belong ^. As dramatic critics, Dryden ^ and Schlegel ^ have left other opinions of the exact nature oi, farce, the former making it depend on the characteriza- tion, the latter on the plot and the dramatist's attitude toward his work. Under Dryden's definition Epiccrne would be comedy, under Schlegel's it, and all comedies of satire, would be farce. But classification is, after all, of secondary importance, and may change as tastes and ideas change. What is important is the unalterable character of the drama itself — a comedy built on classic models, de- veloping a carefully planned intrigue, exhibiting studies in * humour ' and the manners of early seventeenth century London, satirizing contem.porary follies as intellectually and socially rather than morally awry, and because of an abnormal weakness in its central character, introducing into the action an unusual amount of low comedy. ^ N. E. D.: 'A farce is a dramatic work (usually short.) which has for its sole object to excite laughter.' ^ Essays, ed. Ker, i. 135: 'The persons and actions of a farce are all unnatural, and the manners false.' ' Farce consists of forced humours, and unnatural events.' ^ Di-aiH. Art and Lit., p. 181 : 'If the poet plays in a sportive humour with his own inventions, the result is farce' ; p. 311 : 'Whatever forms a singular exception, and is only conceivable amid an utter perversion of ideas, belongs to the arbitrary exaggeration of farce.' EPICOENE OR THE SILENT WOMAN TEXT EDITOR'S NOTE The text adopted for the present edition of Epicoene is that of a folio in the Yale University Library, which bears on its general title-page the imprint : ' Printed by William Stansby. An°D. 1616.' Except for hning, paging, and the correction of certain typographical errors, the text here given is identical with that of the folio. Attention is called to correction in the variants. Not only in order to reach final accuracy in regard to the text of Epiccene itself, but for the sake of those interested in the variations existing between individual copies of Jonson's First Folio, there will be found in the variants all differences in the folio readings of the play under consideration. Of the later editions, only variants of intrinsic import are included. Inconsistency of spelling and punctuation, in even the most modern texts, makes of this class of variants a bulk so dis- proportionate to its value, that they have been eliminated, save in exceptional cases, but may be found summarily treated in the discussion of the editions in the Introduction. Hills's duodecimo, being a reprint of the Folio of 1692, is not treated separately except in variations from its original ; the texts of 1739 and 1768 bear the same relation to the edition of 1717, and Cunningham's to that of Gifford. Reference to the various editions is made under the following abbreviations : — F = Folio in the Yale University Library : ' Printed by William Stansby. An" D. 1616.' Fj = Folio in the British Museum : ' Imprinted at j London by | Will Stansby | An"^ D. 1616 \ .' F, = Folio in the British Museum : ' London [ printed Editor's Note by W: I Stansby, and are | to be sould by | Rich: Meighen. | An° D. 1616. | .' Q — Quarto of 1620. 1640 = Folio of 1640. 1692 = Folio of 1693. H = Reprint of 1692 by H. Hills. :Z 7i 7 = Edition of 1716, of which vol. 2, containing Epiccene, is dated 1717. 1739, 1768 = Reprints of 1 7 1 7. W = Edition of Peter Whalley, 1756. G = Edition of William Gififord, 18 16. M = Mermaid Edition, 1895. EPICOENE, OR The filent Woman. A Comcedie, Ad:ed in the yeere 1609. By the Children of her Maiefties Rev el Is. The Author B.I. Horat. Vt Jis tu fimllis Call, Byrrhi^^ latronum, Non ego Jim Caprt, neg^ Sulci. Cur metuas me ? LONDON, Printed by WILLIAM STANSBY, M. DC. XVI. [527] TO THE TRVLY NOBLE, BY ALL TITLES. Sir Francis Stuart Sir, 71 /JTY hope is not fo nourijh'd by example, as it will I m/ m conclude^ this dunibe peece Jljoiild pleafe you, JL f .M^ by caufe it hath pleas d others before : but by trufl, that when yozt haiie read it, you will find it worthy to haue dif-pleas'd none. This makes, that I now lo number you, not onely in the Names of fauour, but the Names of iufice, to what I write ; and doe, prefently, call you to the exercife of that noblefl, and majilyefi vcrtue : as coueting rather to be freed in my fame, by the authority of a ludge, then tJie credit of an Vnder taker. Read therefore, 15 / pray you, and cenfure. There is not a line, or fyllable ifi it changed from the fimplicity of the firfl Copy. And, when you, Jh all confider, tJirough the certaine hatred of fome, how much a mans innocency may bee indangerd by an vn-certaine accufatio7i ; you will, I doubt not, fo beginne to hate the 20 iniquitie of fucli natures, as I fhall lone the contumely done me, whofe end tvas fo honorable, as to be wifd off by your fenience. Your vnprofitable, but true louer, Ben. Ionson. 25 8 by cause] because 1Q^2. . . 25 Ionson] Johnson 1602. The entire ■ dedication is omitted II 1789 176S. [528] The Perfons of the Play. Morose. A Gent, that loues no noife. Davp. Evgenie. a Knight his nephew. Clerimont. a Ge7it. his friend. Trve-wit. Another friend. Epiccene. a yong Gent, fuppos'd the filent Woman. loH. Daw. a Knight, her feruant. Amorovs La Fogle. A Knight alfo. Thom: Otter. A land, and fea-Captaine. CvTBERD. A Barber. MvTE. Otie ^Morose his feruants. Mad. Havghty. \ Mad. Centavre. \ Ladies Collegiates. Mrs Mavis. ) 15 Mrs Trvsty. Mrs Otter. The La. Havghties woman. The Captaines wife. [Pretenders. Parson. Pages. Servants. THE SCENE LONDON. I The Persons of the Play] Dramatis Personae G 2 no] not 16iO 1692 H 3 Davp. Evgenie] Daiip. Eugene 2692 H; Sir Dauphine Eugenie G 4 Clerimont] Ned Clerimont G 7 loH. Daw] Sir John Daw G 8 Amorovs La Foole] Amarovs La-Fool i6.92 H; Sir Amorous La-Foole G 13 Collegiates] Collegiate l&iO . . . T7Q8 14 M" Mavis] Mad. Mavis IMO . . . 1717 15 M" Trvsty] Mrs. Mavis 1640 1692 II 16 Pretenders] Listed as sepa7-ate performers H . . . 1768 17 Parson] is followed by Page to Clerimont G 21 London] is followed by The Principal Comoedians &c. 16i0 . . .1768 [529] EPICOENE OR The filent Woman. PROLOG VE\ TRuth fayes, of old, the art of making plaies Was to content the people ; & their praife Was to the Poet money, wine, and bayes. But in this age, a sed: of writers are, That, onely, for particular likings care, 5 And will tafte nothing that is populare. With fuch we mingle neither braines, nor brefls ; Our wiflies^ like to thofe (make publique feafts) Are not to pleafe the cookes taftes, but the guefts. Yet, if thofe cunning palates hether come, lo They fhall find guefts entreaty, and good roome ; And though all relifh not, fure, there will be fome, That, when they leaue their feates, fliall make 'hem fay, Who wrot that piece, could fo haue wrote a play : But that, he knew, this was the better way. 15 For, to prefent all cuftard, or all tart, And haue no other meats, to beare a part, Or to want bread, and fait, were but courfe art. The Poet prayes you then, with better thought To fit ; and, when his cates are all in brought, 20 Though there be none far fet, there will deare-bought ^ Prologve] G prints in stanzas of three lines ; Prologve F^ 8 ( ) om. 1640 . . , 9 Are] and il/ cookes tastes] cookes taste 7640 1692 H\ cook's taste WG lo hether] hither lUQ . , . 21 far fet] farre fet Q ; far-fet 1640 . . . B lo The filent Woman Be fit for ladies: fome for lords, knights, fquires, Some for your waiting wench, and citie-wires, Some for your men, and daughters of white-Friars. [530] 35 Nor is it, onely, while you keepe your feate Here, that his feafl will laft ; but you fliall eate A weeke at ord'naries, on his broken meat : If his Mufe be true, Who commends her to you. occafiOfCd ANOTHER. liyfojne perjons ^ ■ AHc cnds of all, who for the Scene doe write, tn?ferti T 7ient ex- JL Are, or fliould be, to profit, and delight. ception. ^nd ftill't hath beene the praife of all beft times, So perfons were not touch'd, to taxe the crimes. 5 Then, in this play, which we prefent to night. And make the object of your eare, and fight, On forfeit of your felues, thinke nothing true : Left fo you make the maker to iudge you. For he knowes. Poet neuer credit gain'd 10 By writing truths, but things (like truths) well fain'd. If any, yet, will (with particular llight Of application) wreft what he doth write ; And that he meant or him, or her, will fay : They make a libell, which he made a play. 23 waiting wench] waiting- wench IV G 27 ord'naries] ordinaries ^1 IMO . . . 1717 MN. om. F^ 1640 . . . Inserted by W G as footnote 7 true :] true Q 8 Lest] Least F^ 10 (like truthes) well fayn'd Fx ; like truths, well feign'd G H The filent Woman ii A 61 I. Scene I. Clerimont, Boy, Trve-wit. A' you got the fong yet perfed I ga' you, boy? He comes Boy. Yes, fir. ""',. ' _ making Cle. Let me heare it. himfeife Boy. You fliall, fir, but i'faith let no body elfe. ''^'"^-^• CLE. Why, I pray? 6 Boy. It will get you the dangerous name of a Poet in towne, fir, befides me a perfed: deale of ill will at the manfion you wot of, whofe ladie is the argument of it : where now I am the welcom'ft thing vnder a man that comes there. lo Cle. I thinke, and aboue a man too, if the truth were rack'd out of you. Boy. No faith, I'll confefiTe before, fir. The gentle- women play with me, and throw me o' the bed ; and carry me in to my lady ; and fliee kifTes me with her oil'd face ; 15 and puts a perruke o' my head ; and askes me an' I will weare her gowne ; and I fay, no : and then flie hits me a blow o' the eare, and calls me innocent, and lets me goe. Cle. No maruell, if the dore bee kept fliut againft your mafter, when the entrance is fo eafie to you — well fir, you 20 fliall goe there no more, left | I bee faine to feeke your voyce [531] in my ladies ruflies, a fortnight hence. Sing, fir. Boyfings. Try. Why, here's the man that can melt away his time, and neuer feeles it ! what, betweene his miftris abroad, and his engle at home, high fare, foft lodging, fine clothes, and 25 Ad I. Scene I.] includes Scenes II, III, IV. A Room in Clerimont's House. G Clerimont] Cleremont 1692 H 2, 4, 6, 13 Boy] Page G M 5 pray] pay Q 7 besides me] besides get me i76S 8 ladie] lady j^i 15 in to] into 1692 /f shee] she i^^ oil'd] oyl'd F^ 22 MN. Page sings G B a 12 The Jilent Woman [act i his fiddles ; hee thinkes the houres ha' no wings, or the day- no poft-horfe. Well, fir gallant, were you ftrooke with the plague this minute, or condemn'd to any capitall punifliment to morrow, you would beginne then to thinke, 30 and value euery article o' your time, efteeme it at the true rate, and giue all for't. CLE. Why, what fliould a man doe ? Trv. Why, nothing : or that, which when 'tis done, is the time, ^s idle. HarkcH after the next horfe-race, or hunting- 35 match ; lay wagers, praife Puppy, or Pepper-come, White- foote, Franklin ; fweare vpon White-maynes partie ; fpend aloud, that my lords may heare you ; vifite my ladies at night, and bee able to giue 'hem the character of euery bowler, or better o' the greene. Thefe be the things, 40 wherein your fafliionable men exercife themfelues, and I for companie. Cle. Nay, if I haue thy authoritie, I'le not leaue yet. Come, the other are confiderations, when wee come to haue gray heads, and weake hammes, moift eyes, and flirunke 45 members. Wee'll thinke on 'hem then ; then wee'll pray, and fall. Trv. I, and deftine onely that time of age to goodneflfe, which our want of abilitie will not let vs employ in euill ? Cle. Why, then 'tis time enough. 50 Trv. Yes : as if a man fliould fleepe all the terme, and thinke to effed his bufinede the laft day. O, Clerimont, this time, becaufe it is an incorporeall thing, and not fubjed CO fenfe, we mocke our felues the finelieft out of it, with vanitie, and miferie indeede : not feeking an end of wretch- 55 edneffe, but onely changing the matter ftill. Cle. Nay, thou'lt not leaue now — Trv. See but our common difeafe ! with what iuftice 27 Gallant F^ strooke] struck IQiO,. . 30 article] particle 1640 . . . 1717 33 MN. om. F^. . .; W G insert as footnote 35 Puppy . . . ] Puppy ... F^ 36 spend] speak 1640 ... 38 bee] be F^ 41 com- panie] company /^i 44 moyst F^ 48 our] ou Q 56 now] no 1739 SC. i] The Jilent Woman 13 can wee complaine, that great men will not looke vpon vs, nor be at leifure to giue our affaires fuch difpatch, as wee exped, when wee will neuer doe it to our felues : nor 60 heare, nor regard our felues. CLE. Foh, thou haft read Plvtarchs moralls, now, or fome fuch tedious fellow ; and it fliowes fo vilely with thee : 'Fore god, 'twill fpoile thy wit vtterly. Talke me of pinnes, and feathers, and ladies, and ruflies, and fuch things : 65 and leaue this Stoicitie alone, till thou mak'ft fermons. Trv. Well, fir. If it will not take, I haue learn'd to loofe as little of my kindnefle, as I can. I'le doe good to no man againft his will, certainely. When were you at the colledge ? 70 CLE. What colledge ? Trv. As if you knew not ! CLE. No faith, I came but from court, yefterday. Trv. Why, is it not arriu'd there yet, the newes ? A new foundation, | fir, here i' the towne, of ladies, that call 75 [532] themfelues the Collegiates, an order betweene courtiers, and country-madames, that Hue from their hufbands ; and giue entertainement to all the Wits, and Braucries o' the time, as they call 'hem: crie downe, or vp, what they like, or diflike in a braine, or a fafhion, with moft mafculine, or 80 rather hermaphroditicall authoritie : and, euery day, gaine to their colledge some new probationer. CLE. Who is the Prefident ? Trv. The graue, and youthfull matron, the lady Havghty. 85 CLE. A poxe of her autumnall face, her peec'd beautie : there's no man can bee admitted till fliee be ready, now adaies, till fliee has painted, and perfum'd, and wafli'd, and fcour'd, but the boy here ; and him fliee wipes her 60 nor heare] not heare llfV? 64 Talke me] talk to me W G M 73 but] bt Q 11 country] countrey F-^ 78 Wits, and Braueries F^ 79 cry/\ 81 hennaphroditical /^i . . . 83 president /"^ 86 beauty/^, 87 she /"i 89 sour'd . . . heere F^ 14 The filent Woman [act i 90 oil'd lips vpon, like a fponge. I haue made a fong, I pray thee heare it, o' the fubied. S' Song. ' till to be neat, ft ill to be dreft, \^^ As, you were going to a feaft ; Still to be poiCdred, ft ill perfumd : 95 Lady, it is to be prefnmd, TJiongh arts hid caufes at^e not fotind, All is not ftuwet, all is not found. Giue me a looke, giue me a face. That makes fimplicitie a grace ; 100 Robes loofely flowing, haire as free : Such fweet negleSi more taketh me. Then all th' adidteries of art. They ftrike mi7ie eyes, but 7tot my heart. Trv. And I am, clearely, o' the other fide: I loue 105 a good dreffing, before any beautie o' the world. O, a woman is, then, like a delicate garden ; nor, is there one kind of it : flie may varie, euery houre ; take often counfell of her glafle, and choofe the beft. If fliee haue good eares, iTiew 'hem ; good haire, lay it out ; good legs, weare short 1 10 cloathes ; a good hand, discouer it often ; pradife any art, to mend breath, clenfe teeth, repaire eye-browes, paint, and profeflTe it. Cle. How ? publiquely ? Trv. The doing of it, not the manner : that muft bee 115 priuate. Many things, that feeme foule, i' the doing, doe pleafe, done. A lady fliould, indeed, ftudie her face, when wee thinke fliee lleepes: nor, when the dores are fliut, fhould men bee inquiring, all is facred within, then. Is it 90 oyld lippes F.^ 93 As,] As IMO ... 94 bee F^ 103 Thy F^ they F^Q... 105 beauty F^ 107 shee F^ loS chnse F^ 1640 109 show F^ 1640 . . . legges F^ 116 indeede, study ... we thinke she Fi SC. l] The Jilent Woman 15 for vs to see their perrukes put on, their falfe teeth, their complexion, their eye-browes, their nailes ? you fee guilders 120 will not worke, but inclos'd. They muft not difcouer, how little ferues, with the helpe of art, to adorne a great deale- How long did the canuas hang afore | Aid-gate? were the [533] people fuffer'd to fee the cities Loue^ and Charitie, while they were rude ftone, before they were painted, and 125 burnifh'd ? No. No more fliould feruants approch their miftrefles, but when they are compleat, and finifli'd. CLE. Well faid, my Trve-wit. Trv. And a wife ladie will keepe a guard alwaies vpon the place, that fliee may doe things fecurely. I once 130 followed a rude fellow into a chamber, where the poore madame, for hafte, and troubled, fnatch'd at her perruke, to couer her baldnede : and put it on, the wrong way. Cle. O prodigie ! Trv. And the vn-confcionable knaue held her in 135 complement an houre, with that reuerft face, when I flill look'd when fliee fliould talke from the t'other fide. Cle. Why, thou fliould'ft ha' releeu'd her. Trv. No faith, I let her alone, as wee'l let this argument, if you pleafe, and pafle to another. When faw you Dav- 140 RHINE EVGENIE ? Cle. Not thefe three daies. Shall we goe to him this morning ? he is very melancholique, I heare. Trv. Sicke o' the vncle ? is hee ? I met that ftifife peece of formalitie, his vncle, yefterday, with a huge turbant 145 of night-caps on his head, buckled ouer his eares. Cle. O, that's his cuftome when he walkes abroad. Hee can endure no noife, man. Trv. So I haue heard. But is the difeafe fo ridiculous 120 nayles /^i 122 serues] serue ^ 124 Cities i^j 125 and h\xmi%\i A'] -p. Zll begins here F^ 126 Seruants approach 130 she Fi 137 'tother i^; tother 1640 .. . 138 releiu'd /^i 141 Eugene 1692 H 143 melancholick i692 , . . melancholy (7 144 is he i^i 145 formality F^ i6 77?^ filent Woman [act i J 50 in him, as it is made? they fay, hee has beene vpon diuers treaties with the Fifli-wiues, and Orenge-women ; and articles propounded betweene them : mary, the Chimney- fweepers will not be drawne in. Cle. No, nor the Broome-men : they ftand out ftififely. ^55 He cannot endure a Coftard- monger, he fwounes if he heare one. Trv. Me thinkes, a Smith fhould be ominous. Cle. Or any Hamer-man. A Brafier is not fufifer'd to dwel in the parifli, nor an Armorer. He would haue 160 hang'd a Pewterers 'prentice once vpon a fliroue-tuefdaies • riot, for being o' that trade, when the reft were quit. Trv. a Trumpet fliould fright him terribly, or the Hau'-boyes ? Cle. Out of his fenfes. The Waights of the citie haue 165 a penfion of him, not to come neere that ward. This youth pradtis'd on him, one night, like the Bell-man ; and neuer left till hee had brought him downe to the doore, with a long-fword : and there left him flourifliing with the aire. 170 Boy. Why, fir! hee hath chofen a ftreet to lie in, fo narrow at both ends, that it will receiue no coaches, nor carts, nor any of thefe common noifes : and therefore, we that loue him, deuife to bring him in fuch as we may, now and then, for his exercife, to breath him. Hee would grow 175 refty elfe in his eafe. His vertue would ruft without adtion. I entreated a Beare-ward, one day, to come downe with the dogs of fome foure pariflies that way, and I thanke [534] him, he did ; & cryed his games vnder mafter | Morose's windore : till he was fent crying away, with his head made 150 he F^ 152 marry Q. .. , but not uniformly 155 hee F.^ 1 58 Hammer-man F^.. . 159 dwell F^... 160 vpon] 00. F^... 1717 -tuesdayes Fi 161 quit] quiet 1692 . . . 1768 162 should] would H...1717 165 nere 7^1 167 he T^i 169 ayre i^i i7ohe7^i 171 no carts 1768 172 noyses F^ 173 bring him in] om. in F^ 1640. ..1717 175 : his vertue i'^, i640. .. 177 dogges. . . himhedid/', 178 and cried /^ 179 windore] window 1640, not uniformly so SC. l] The filent Woman 17 a moft bleeding fpe-Stacle to the multitude. And, another 180 time, a Fencer, marching to his prize, had his drum moft tragically run through, for taking that ftreet in his way, at my requeft. Trv. a good wag. How do's he for the bells ? CLE. O, i' the Queenes time, he was wont to goe out of 1S5 towne euery fatterday at ten a clock, or on holy-day-eues. But now, by reafon of the fickneffe, the perpetuitie of ringing has made him deuife a roome, with double walls, and treble feelings ; the windores clofe fhut, and calk'd : and there he Hues by candle-light. He turn'd away a man, 190 laft weeke, for hauing a paire of new fliooes that creak'd. And this fellow waits on him, now, in tennis-court focks, or flippers fol'd with wooll : and they talke each to other, in a trunke. See, who comes here. A 51 I. Sce7ie II. Davphine, Trve-wit, Clerimont. HOw now ! what aile you firs ? dumbe ? Trv. Strooke into ftone, almoft, I am here, with tales o' thine vncle ! There was neuer fuch a prodigie heard of. Davp. I would you would once loofe this fubied:, my mafters, for my fake. They are fuch as you are, that 5 haue brought mee into that predicament, I am, with him. Trv. How is that ? Davp. Mary, that he will dif-inherit me, no more. Hee thinks, I, and my companie are authors of all the ridiculous ads, and moniments are told of him. ^* 180 most bleeding] p. 534 begins here F^ 181 marching] going F^ 1640 . . . 1717 182 through] thorow Q 186 a clocke F^ holy day cues Fi 190 hee. . . candlelight F^ 193 each to other] to each other 1768 True-wit] Trv-wit 7^1 layle/'i 2 stroke i^i ; struck J640 .. . 4 Davp.] Dav. F^ through Act I. Sc. 2, 3 ; Dau. 16i0 8 He thinks . . . company F^^ 10 mon'ments /^i . . . ; monuments W G i8 77?^ Jilent Woman [act i Trv. S'Hd, I would be the author of more, to vexe him, that purpofe deferues it : it giues thee law of plaguing him. I'll tell thee what I would doe, I would make a falfe almanack ; get it printed : and then ha' him drawne out on 15 a coronation day to the tower-yNh.zxi^, and kill him with the noife of the ordinance. Dif-inherit thee ! hee cannot, man. Art not thou next of bloud, and his fifters fonne ? Davp. I, but he will thruft me out of it, he vowes, and marry. 20 Trv. How ! that's a more portent. Can he endure no noife, and will venter on a wife ? Cle. Yes: why, thou art a ftranger, it feemes, to his beft trick, yet. He has imploid a fellow this halfe yeere, all ouer England^ to harken him out a dumbe woman ; bee 25 fliee of any forme, or any qualitie, fo fhee bee able to beare children : her filence is dowrie enough, he faies. Trv. But, I truft to god, he has found none. Cle. No, but hee has heard of one that's lodg'd i' the next ftreet to him, who is exceedingly foft-fpoken ; thrifty 30 of her fpeech ; that fpends but fixe words a day. And her hee's about now, and fliall haue her. [535] Trv. Is't poflible ! who is his agent i' the bufmefTe ? Cle. Mary, a Barber, one Cvt-Berd : an honeft fellow, one that tells Davphine all here. 35 Trv. Why, you opprefle mee with wonder ! A woman, and a barber, and loue no noife ! Cle. Yes faith. The fellow trims him filently, and has not the knacke with his fheeres, or his fingers : and that continence in a barber hee thinkes fo eminent a vertue, as 40 it has made him chiefe of his counfell. II S'lid] 'Slid J640 .. . 12 thee law] the law i692 // 14 alma- nacke 7^1 15 tower wharfe /\ 16 he cannot i^i 17 blood i^i 20 more portent] mere potent M 22 Yes, why thou art a stranger, it seemes, to his best tricke, yet. F^ 23 yeare F^ 24 hearken Fy 25 quallitie, so she be F^ 26 sayes F^ 29 soft spoken F^ 30 six F^ 33 one Cvt-berd] 07n. F^ 1640 . . . 1717 36 noyse F^ 37 trimes F^ 39 continence] continency 1692 . . . 1717 isc. ii] The Jllent Woman 19 Trv. Is the barber to be feene ? or the wench ? CLE. Yes, that they are. Trv. I pray thee, Davphine, let's goe thether. Davp. I haue fome bufineffe now : I cannot i' faith. Trv. You fhall haue no bufinelTe fliall make you negled 45 this, fir, wee'U make her talke, beleeue it ; or if fliee will not, wee can giue out, at leaft fo much as fliall interrupt the treatie : wee will breake it. Thou art bound in confcience, when hee fufpeds thee without caufe, to torment him. Davp, Not I, by any meanes. I'll giue no fuffrage 5° to't. He fliall neuer ha' that plea againfl: me, that I oppos'd the leaft phantTie of his. Let it lie vpon my ftarres to be guiltie, I'll be innocent. Trv. Yes, and be poore, and beg ; doe, innocent : when fome groome of his has got him an heire, or this 55 barber, if hee himfelfe cannot. Innocent ! I pray thee, Ned, where lyes fliee ? let him be innocent, flill. CLE. Why, right ouer againfl the barbers ; in the houfe, where fir lOHN Daw lyes. Trv. You doe not meane to confound me ! 60 CLE. Why ? Trv. Do's he, that would marry her^ know fo much ? Cle. I cannot tell. Trv. 'Twere inough of imputation to her, with him. CLE. Why ? 65 Trv. The onely talking fir i' th' towne ! Iack Daw ! And he teach her not to fpeake — God b'w'you. I haue fome bufinefTe too. Cle. Will you not goe thether then ? Trv. Not with the danger to meet Daw, for mine eares. 70 Cle. Why ? I thought you two had beene vpon very good termes. 48 treaty /\ 51 Hee F^ 52 lye F^ 56 He /^j 57 lies she, Innocent F-^ 59 lies F^^ 60 Yon doe not] om. doe 1622 H 62 Do's] dos F^ ; does 1622 ... 66 i' th' towne ! . . . hee i^i 67 God be wi' you (7, uniformly 20 The filent Woman [act I Trv. Yes, of keeping diftance. Cle. They fay he is a very good fcholler. 75 Trv, I, and hee fayes it firft. A poxe on him, a fellow that pretends onely to learning, buyes titles, and nothing else of bookes in him. Cle. The world reports him to be very learned. Trv. I am forry, the world fliould fo confpire to 80 belie him. Cle. Good faith, I haue heard very good things come from him. Trv. You may. There's none fo defperately ignorant [536] to denie that : | would they were his owne. God b'w'you 85 gentlemen. Cle. This is very abrupt ! A a I. Scene III. Davphine, Clerimont, Boy. COme, you are a ftrange open man, to tell euery thing, thus. Cle. Why, beleeue it Davphine, Trve-WIT's a very honeft fellow. 5 Davp. I thinke no other : but this franke nature of his is not for fecrets. Cle. Nay, then, you are miftaken DAVPHINE : I know where he has beene well trufted, and difcharg'd the truft very truely, and heartily. 10 Davp. I contend not, Ned, but, with the fewer a bufineffe is carried, it is euer the fafer. Now we are alone, if you'll goe thether, I am for you. Cle. When were you there ? Davp. Laft night : and fuch a decanter on of fport fallen 15 out ! BOCCACE neuer thought of the like. Daw do's noth- ing but court her ; and the wrong way. Hee would lie with 79 sory . . . belye jF, 85 gentleman F^ 8 hee F^ 15 do's] dos i^i ; does 1680 . .. sc. in] The Jilent Woman 21 her, and praifes her modeftie ; defires that fhee would talke, and bee free, and commends her filence in verfes : which hee reades, and fweares, are the beft that euer man made. Then railes at his fortunes, ftamps, and mutines, why he is 20 not made a counfellor, and call'd to affaires of ftate. Cle. I pray thee let's goe. I would faine partake this. Some water, Boy. Davp. Wee are inuited to dinner together, he and I, by one that came thether to him, fir La-Foole. 25 Cle. O, that's a precious mannikin ! Davp. Doe you know him ? Cle. I, and he will know you too, if ere he faw you but once, though you fliould meet him at church in the midft of praiers. Hee is one of the Braueries^ though he be none 30 o' the Wits. He will falute a ludge vpon the bench, and a Bifliop in the pulpit, a Lawyer when hee is pleading at the barre, and a Lady when fliee is dauncing in a mafque, and put her out. He do's giue playes, and fuppers, and inuites his guefts to 'hem, aloud, out of his windore, as they 35 ride by in coaches. He has a lodging in the Strand for the purpofe. Or to watch when ladies are gone to the China houfes., or the Exchange, that hee may meet 'hem by chance, and giue 'hem prefents, fome two or three hundred pounds-worth of toyes, to be laught at. He is \o neuer without a fpare banquet, or fweet-meats in his chamber, for their women to alight at, and come vp to, for a bait. Davp. Excellent ! He was a fine youth last night, but now he is much finer ! what is his chriften-name ? I ha' 45 forgot. 17 prayses F.^ 20 hee F^ 32 lets goe F^ 24, 28, 44 hee Fy 26 mannikin. F^ 30 prayers F^ 30, 32 He F^ 31 iudge P\ 32 bishop F^ lawyer F-^ 33 lady F^^ she F^ 35 guestes Fy 36 strand F^ 37 purpose : or to F^ 38 Exchange F^ meete F^ 40 pounds worth Fy 42 for their women] om. for Fx 1640 . . . 171? 43 bayt F^ 45 christen name F^ 1640 . . . 1717 ; Christian J-F... 22 The filent Woman [act I Cle. Sir Amorovs La-Foole. [537] Boy. The gentleman is here below, that ownes that name. 50 Cle. Hart, hee's come, to inuite me to dinner, I hold my life. Davp. Like enough : pray thee, let's ha' him vp. Cle. Boy, marfhall him. Boy. With a truncheon, fir ? 55 Cle. Away, I befeech you. Fie make him tell vs his pedegree, now ; and what meat he has to dinner ; and, who are his guefts ; and, the whole courfe of his fortunes : with a breath. A a I. Scene I III. La-Foole, Clerimont, Davphine. S'Aue, deare fir Davphine, honor'd mafirer Clerimont. Cle. Sir Amorovs ! you haue very much honefted my lodging, with your prefence. La-f. Good faith, it is a fine lodging ! almoft, as 5 delicate a lodging, as mine. Cle. Not fo, fir. La-F. Excufe me, fir, if it were i' the Strand, I affure you. I am come, mafter Clerimont, to entreat you wait vpon two or three ladies, to dinner, to day. 10 Cle. How, fir! wait vpon 'hem? did you euer fee me carry diflies ? La-F. No, fir, difpence with me ; I meant, to beare 'hem companie. Cle. O, that I will, fir. The doubtfulnefife o' your 15 phrafe, beleeue it, fir, would breed you a quarrell, once an houre, with the terrible boyes, if you fliould but keepe 'hem fellowfhip a day. 47 Sir Amorovs] Sis Amorous F^ ; Sir Amarons H 48, 54 Boy] Page G 48 The gentleman is here that owes that name F^ 1640 ; The gentleman is here that owns that name 1692 . . . 1717 56 hee F^ 57 guestes F^ 7 Strand Fi 8 wait] to wait G 13 company F^ sc. iiii] The Jilent Woman 23 La-f. It fliould be extremely againft my will, fir, if I contefted with any man. Cle. I beleeue it, fir ; where hold you your feaft ? 20 La-f. At Tom Otters, fir. Davp. Tom Otter ? what's he ? La-f. Captaine Otter, fir; he is a kind of gamfter: but he has had command, both by fea, and by land. Davp. O, then he is animal amphibium ? 25 La-f. I, fir: his wife was the rich 6"/^^««- woman, that the courtiers vifited fo often, that gaue the rare entertain- ment. She commands all at home. Cle. Then, fhee is Captaine Otter ? La-f. You fay very well, fir ; flie is my kinf-woman, 30 a La-Foole by the mother fide, and will inuite, any great ladies, for my fake. Davp. Not of the La-Fooles of EJfex ? La-f. No, fir, the La-Fooles of London. Cle. Now, h'is in. 3^ La-f. They all come out of our houfe, the La-Fooles o' the north, the La-Fooles of the weft, the La-FoOLES of the eaft, and fouth — we | are as ancient a family, as any [538] is in Europe — but I my felfe am defcended lineally of the french La-Fooles — and, wee doe beare for our coate ^o Yellow, or Or, checker'd Azure, and Gules, and fome three or foure colours more, which is a very noted coate, and has, fome-times, beene folemnely worne by diuers nobilitie of our houfe — but let that goe, antiquitie is not refpeded now — I had a brace of fat Does fent me, gentlemen, & halfe 45 a dofen of phefants, a dofen or two of godwits, and fome other fowle, which I would haue eaten, while they are good, and in good company — there will be a great lady, or two, my lady HavGHTY, my lady Centavre, miftris DOL 18 extreamely /"i 23 hee /"j 27 the] her i76S entertainement Fx 30 shee is my kinswoman Fy 35 h'isj hee's IMO ; he's H ... 39 my self /^i 40 French F^ we do beare our coat yellow F^ ; ovi. for l&iO . . . 1717 42 coulors Fi 43 sometimes F^ nobility Fy 44 antiquity Fy 45 does sent mee, gentlemen, and halfe F^ 47 fonle F^ 48 great] grat Q 24 The filent Woman 5° Mavis — and they come a' purpofe, to fee the filent gentle- woman, mirtris EPICOENE, that honefl fir lOHN Daw has promis'd to bring thether — and then, miftris Trvsty, my ladies woman, will be there too, and this honorable Knight, fir Davphine, with your felfe, mafter Clerimont — and 55 wee'U bee very merry, and haue fidlers, and daunce — I haue beene a mad wag, in my time, and haue spent fome crownes fince I was a page in court, to my lord LOFTY, and after, my ladies gentleman-vflier, who got mee knighted in Ireland^ fince it pleas'd my elder brother to die — I had 6o as faire a gold ierkin on that day, as any was worne in the Iland-voyzgQ, or at Calls, none difprais'd, and I came ouer in it hither, fhow'd my fislfe to my friends, in court, and after went downe to my tenants, in the countrey, and furuai'd my lands, let new leafes, tooke their money, 65 fpent it in the eye o' the land here, vpon ladies — and now I can take vp at my pleafure. Davp. Can you take vp ladies, fir ? Cle. O, let him breath, he has not recouer'd. Davp. Would I were your halfe, in that commoditie — 70 La-f. No, fir, excufe mee : I meant money, which can take vp any thing. I haue another gueft, or two, to inuite, and fay as much to, gentlemen. I'll take my leaue abruptly, in hope you will not faile — Your feruant. Davp. Wee will not faile you, fir precious La-FOOLE ; 75 but fliee fliall, that your ladies come to fee : if I haue credit, afore fir Daw. Cle. Did you euer heare fuch a wind-fucker, as this ? Davp. Or, fuch a rooke, as the other ! that will betray his miftris, to be feene. Come, 'tis time, we preuented it. 80 Cle. Goe. 50 a' purpose] o' purpose W G 53 bee F-^ knight F^ 55 be F^ 56 & haue spent F^ 58 gentleman vsher F^ me Fy 60 Ierkin F^ any was worne] any worn G M 61 Hand /^ ; Island//"... Caliz\ Cadiz H ... 69 commodity F^ 70 La-F.] Cle. F^ 1640 . . . 1717 72 Gentlemen j'^i 74 We /'j 77 wind-sucker /f. . . 79 mistris] master IMO . . . 1717 Come, tis Fi The Jilent Woman 25 ^& II. Scene I. Morose, Mvte. CAnnot I, yet, find out a more compendious method, then by this trunke, to faue my feruants the labour of fpeech, and mine eares, the difcord of founds ? Let mee fee : all difcourfes, but mine owne, afflicSl mee, they feeme harfli, impertinent, and irkfome. Is it not | pofTible, that thou 5 [539] Ihould'fl: anfwere me, by fignes, and, I apprehend thee, fellow ? fpeake not, though I queftion you. You haue taken the ring, off from the ftreet dore, as I bad you? anfwere me not, by fpeech, but by filence ; vnleflTe, it be otherwife ( ) very good. And, you haue faftened on At the a thicke quilt, or flock-bed, on the out-fide of the ^oxo. \ jmnj^^'' that if they knocke with their daggers, or with bricke-bats, /^^'^■^^ they can make no noife ? but with your leg, your anfwere, or fignes. vnlefle it be otherwife ( ) very good. This is not, onely, fit modeftie in a feruant, but good ftate, and difcretion in 15 a mafter. And you haue beene with CvTBERD, the barber, to haue him come to me ? ( ) good. And, he will come prefently ? anfwere me not but with your leg, vnlefTe it be otherwife : if it be otherwife, fhake your head, or flirug ( ) fo. Your Italian^ and Spaniard, are wife in thefe ! 20 and it is a frugall, and comely grauitie. How long will it bee, ere Cvtberd come ? flay, if an houre, hold vp your whole hand ; if halfe an houre, two fingers ; if a quarter, one ; ( ) good : halfe a quarter ? 'tis well. And haue you giuen him a key, to come in without knocking? ( )good. 25 And, is the lock oild, and the hinges, to day ? ( ) good. Act II. Scene I. includes Sc. I and II. A Rootn in Morose's House. G I findei^i 4 me, . . . harshe ^1 6 answer /^^ 12 brickbats i'i 13 legge F^ your answere] you answer lUO . . . 1717 14 onely, fit] only a fit A/" 16 been F^ 18 not] om. 1768 legge, unless it bee otherwise /^i 19 bee /^i 20 So 7^1 21 it is, a frugall and comely grauity. /^ 26 oyld Fi C 26 The Jilent Woman [act ii And the quilting of the ftaires no where worne out, and bare? ( ) very good. I fee, by much dodrine, and impulfion, it may be effeded : ftand by. The Turke, 3° in this diuine difcipline, is admirable, exceeding all the potentates of the earth ; ftill waited on by mutes ; and all his commands fo executed ; yea, euen in the warre (as I haue heard) and in his marches, moft of his charges, and diredlions, giuen by ftgnes, and with filence : an exquifite 35 art ! and I am heartily afliam'd, and angrie often-times, that the Princes of Chrijlendome, fhould fufifer a Barbarian, to tranfcend 'hem in fo high a point of felicitie. I will Onewindes pradife it, hereafter. How now? oh ! oh ! what villaine ? without, what prodigie of mankind is that ? looke. Oh ! cut his Againe. throat ; cut his throat : what murderer hell-hound deuill can this be ? MvT. It is a poft from the court — MOR. Out rogue, and muft thou blow thy home, too ? MvT. Alas, it is a poft from the court, fir, that fayes, 45 hee muft fpeake with you, paine of death — MOR. Paine of thy life, be filent. A a II. Scene II. Trve-wit, Morose, Cvtberd. BY your leaue, fir (I am a ftranger here) is your name, mafter MoROSE ? is your name, mafter MoROSE ? fillies ! Pythagoreans all ! this is ftrange ! What fay you, fir, nothing? Has Harpocrates beene here, with his club, 5 among you ? well fir, I will beleeue you to bee the man, at this time : I will venter vpon you, fir. Your friends at court commend 'hem to you, fir — 33 chardges F^ 35 oftentimes F-^ 36 Barbarian F^ 37 Felicity F■^ 39 mankinde F-^ 40 deuilll diuell F^ ; divell IQiO ; divel m^2 . . . 1717 44 Alasse, F^ 45 speake with you] om. with F^ 1640 ... 46 Payne Fi I sir, I am a stranger here": F^ 1640 . . . ; sir ; — I am a stranger here :— G 4 heere F^ 5 bee F^ sc ii] The Jilent Woman 27 (MOR. O men! 6 manners! was there euer fuch an [540] impudence ?) Trv. And are extremely foUicitous for you, fir. 10 MOR. Whofe knaue are you ! Trv. Mine owne knaue, and your compere, fir. MoR. Fetch me my fword — Trv. You fhall tafte the one halfe of my dagger, if you do (groome) and you, the other, if you fl:irre, fir : be patient, 15 I charge you, in the kings name, and heare mee without infurredion. They fay, you are to marry ? to marry ! doe you marke, fir ? MOR. How then, rude companion ! Trv. Mary, your friends doe wonder, fir, the Thames 20 being so neere, wherein you may drowne fo handfomely ; or Zwzall it fee Protid with increafe, 130 / know to fpeake, and Jf^ee to hold her peace. Do you conceiue me, gentlemen ? Dav. No faith, how meane you with increafe, fir lOHN ? Daw. Why, with increafe is, when I court her for the comon caufe of mankind ; and flie fays nothing, but 135 confentire vidctur : and in time is grauida. Davp. Then, this is a ballad of procreation ? Cle. a madi'igall of procreation, you miftake. Epi. 'Pray giue me my verfes againe, feruant. Daw. If you you'll aske 'hem aloud, you flial. 140 Cle. See, here 's Trve-wit againe ! 122 and no poems] are no poems 1G40 . . . 1717 1 26 Dav.] Daw 1640 . . . 138 proceation /^] procreation Q . . . 140 you you'll] you'le 1640 ; you'll //. . . 141 Trve-wit] Trv-wit Q, uniformly after this reference 36 The filent Woman [act 11 Aa II. Scene IIII. Clerimont, Trve-wit, Davphine, Cvtberd, Daw, Epicoene. T T'\ TY{er& haft thou beene, in the name of madnefle ! V V thus accoutred with thy home? Trv. Where the found of it might haue pierc'd your fenfeSj with gladnes, had you beene in eare-reach of it. 5 Davphine, fall downe and worfhip me : I haue forbid the banes, lad. I haue been with thy vertuous vncle, and haue broke the match. Davp. You ha' not, I hope. Trv. Yes faith ; and thou fhouldft hope otherwife, 10 I fhould repent me : this home got me entrance, kifle it. I had no other way to get in, but by faining to be a poft ; but when I got in once, I prou'd none, but rather the contrary, turn'd him into a poft, or a ftone, or what is ftiffer, with thundring into him the incommodities of a wife, IS and the miferies of marriage. If euer GORGON were feene in the fhape of a woman, hee hath feene her in my defcription. I haue put him off o' that fent, for euer. Why doe you not applaud, and adore me, firs ? why ftand you mute ? Are you ftupid ? you are not worthy o' 20 the benefit. Davp. Did not I tell you ? mifchiefe ! — Cle. I would you had plac'd this benefit fomewhere elfe. Trv. Why so ? '? Cle. Slight, you haue done the moft inconfiderate, rafh, weake thing, that euer man did to his friend. Davp. Friend ! if the moft malicious enemy I haue, [546] had ftudied to | infli6t an iniury vpon me, it could not bee a greater. 18 wby F'] why 1640. . . 25, 34 Slight] 'Slight 1692 . . . SC. iiii] The Jilent Woman 37 Trv. Wherein ? for gods-fake ! Gent : come to your 30 felues againe. Davp. But I prefag'd thus much afore, to you. Cle. Would my lips had beene foldred, when I fpak on 't. SHght, what mou'd you to be thus impertinent ? Trv. My mafters, doe not put on this ftrange face 35 to pay my courtefie : off with this vifor. Haue good turnes done you, and thanke 'hem this way? Davp. Fore heau'n, you haue vndone me. That, which I haue plotted for, and beene maturing now thefe foure moneths, you haue blafted in a minute : now I am loft^ 40 I may fpeake. This gentlewoman was lodg'd here by me o' purpofe, and, to be put vpon my vncle, hath profeft this obftinate filence for my fake, being my entire friend ; and one, that for the requitall of fuch a fortune, as to marry him, would haue made mee very ample conditions : where now, 45 all my hopes are vtterly mifcaried by this vnlucky accident. Cle. Thus 'tis, when a man will be ignorantly officious ; doe feruices, and not know his why : I wonder what curteous itch pofiefs'd you! you neuer did abfurder part i' your life, nor a greater trefpafle to friendfliip, to humanity. 50 Davp. Faith, you may forgiue it, beft : 'twas your caufe principally. Cle. I know it, would it had not. Davp. How now CvTBERD ? what newes ? CVT. The beft, the happieft that euer was, fir. There 55 has beene a mad gentleman with your vncle, this morning (I thinke this be the gentleman) that has almoft talk'd him out of his wits, with threatning him from marriage — Davp. On, I pray thee. CvT. And your vnkle, fir, hee thinkes 'twas done 60 by your procurement ; therefore he will fee the party, you wot of, prefently: and if he like her, he fayes, and 30 Gent :] Gentleman 1&Q2 ... 50 to humanity] or humanity IMO . . . 53 Dle. F^, Cle. Q... 54 Cavp. ^] Dau. miO ... 57 —I think this be the gentleman — G 38 The Jilent Woman [act ii that fhe be so inclining to dombe, as I haue told him, he fweares hee will marry her, to day, inftantly, and not 65 deferre it a minute longer. Davp. Excellent ! beyond our expediation ! Trv. Beyond your expectation ? by this light, I knewe it would bee thus. Davp. Nay, fweet Trve-wit, forgiue me. 70 Trv. No, I was ignorantly officious, impertinent ; this was the abfurd, weake part. Cle. Wilt thou afcribe that to merit, now, was meere fortune ? Trv. Fortune ? mere prouidence. Fortune had not 75 a finger in 't. I faw it muft neceflarily in nature fall out fo : my genius is neuer falfe to me in thefe things. Shew me, how it could be otherwife. Davp. Nay, gentlemen, contend not, 'tis well now. Trv. AlafTe, I let him goe on with inconfiderate, and 80 rafli, and what he pleas'd. [547] Cle. Away thou ftrange iuftifier of thy felfe, to bee wifer then thou wert, by the euent. Trv. Euent ! By this light, thou fhalt neuer perfwade me, but I fore-faw it, afwell as the ftarres themfelues. Davp. Nay, gentlemen, 'tis well now : doe you two entertaine fir lOHN Daw, with difcourse, while I fend her away with inftrudions. Trv. I'll be acquainted with her, firft, by your fauour. Cle. Mafter Trve-wit, lady, a friend of ours. 90 Trv. I am forry, I haue not knowne you fooner, lady, to celebrate this rare vertue of your filence. Cle. Faith, an' you had come fooner, you fliould ha' feene, and heard her well celebrated in fir lOHN Daw's madrigalls. 95 Trv. Iack Daw, god faue you, when faw you La- FOOLE ? Daw. Not since laft night, mafler Trve-WIT. 67 I knewe] I knew Q.. . sc. iiii] The Jilent Woman 39 Trv, That 's miracle ! I thought you two had beene infeparable. Daw. Hee's gone to inuite his guefts. 100 Trv. Gods fo ! tis true ! what a falfe memory haue I towards that man ! I am one : I met him e'ne now, vpon that he calls his delicate fine blacke horfe, rid into a foame, with poafting from place to place, and perfon to perfon, to giue 'hem the cue — ^°5 CLE. Left they fliould forget ? Trv. Yes : there was neuer poore captaine tooke more paines at a mufter to fhow men, then he, at this meale, to fhew friends. Daw. It is his quarter-feaft, fir. "o Cle. What ! doe you fay fo, fir lohn ? Trv. Nay, Iack Daw will not be out, at the beft friends hee has, to the talent of his wit : where 's his miftris, to heare and applaud him ? Is flie gone ! Daw. Is miftris Epicoene gone ? "5 Cle. Gone afore, with fir Davphine, I warrant, to the place. Trv. Gone afore ! that were a manifeft iniurie ; a dif- grace and a halfe : to refufe him at fuch a feftiuall time, as this, being a Brauery, and a Wit too. ^2° Cle. Tut, hee'll fwallow it like creame : hee 's better read in iure ciuili, then to efteeme any thing a difgrace is offer'd him from a miftris. Daw. Nay, let her eene goe ; fhe fhall fit alone, and bee dumbe in her chamber, a weeke together, for lOHN 125 Daw, I warrant her : do's ftie refufe nie ? Cle. No, fir, doe not take it fo to heart : fhee do's not refufe you, but a little negle6l you. Good faith, Trve-WIT, you were too blame to put it into his head, that fhee do's refufe him. 130 98 That 's miracle] That's a miracle i640. . . tvjo] om. 1768 loi Gods so !] 'Odso ! G tis] tls Q 103 into a foame] into foam W G 128 neglect] neglects WG 40 The Jilent Woman Trv. Shee do's refufe him, fir, palpably : how euer you mince it. An' I were as hee, I would fweare to fpeake ne're a word to her, to day, for 't. Daw. By this light, no more I will not. [548] 135 Trv. Nor to any body elfe, fir. Daw. Nay, I will not fay fo, gentlemen. CLE. It had beene an excellent happy condition for the company, if you could haue drawne him to it. Daw. I'll be very melancholique, i' faith. 140 Cle. As a dog, if I were as you, fir lOHN. TrV. Or a fnaile, or a hog-loufe: I would roule my felfe vp for this day, introth, they fhould not vnwinde me. Daw. By this pick-tooth, fo I will. Cle. 'Tis well done : he beginnes already to be angry 145 with his teeth. Daw. Will you goe, gentlemen ? Cle. Nay, you muft walke alone, if you bee right melancholique, fir lOHN. Trv. Yes, fir, wee'U dog you, wee'U follow you a farre 150 off. Cle. Was there euer fuch a two yards of knighthood, meafur'd out by Time, to be fold to laughter ? Trv. a meere talking mole ! hang him : no mufhrome was euer so frefh. A fellow fo vtterly nothing, as he 155 knowes not what he would be. Cle. Let's follow him : but firft, let's goe to Davphine, hee 's houering about the houfe, to heare what newes. Trv. Content. 131 Shee do's refuse him, sir] Sir, shee do's refuse him IGiO . . . 139, 148 melancholick 1692 . . .; melancholy G vv The Jilent Woman 41 A a II. Scene V. Morose, Epicoene, Cvtberd, Mvte. Elcome Cvtberd ; draw neere with you faire chardge : and, in her eare, foftly intreat her to vnmafque ( ) So. Is the dore fliut ? ( ) inough. Now, Cvtberd, with the fame difcipHne I vfe to my family, I will queftion you. As I conceiue, CvTBERD, this gentlewoman is 5 fhee, you haue prouided, and brought, in hope fliee will fit me in the place and perfon of a wife? Anfwer me not, but with your leg, vnlefTe it be otherwife : ( ) very well done Cvtberd. I conceiue, befides, Cvtberd, you haue beene pre-acquainted with her birth, education, and quallities, 10 or elfe you would not preferre her to my acceptance, in the waighty confequence of marriage. ( ) this I con- ceiue, Cvtberd. Anfwer me not but with your leg, vnleffe it bee otherwife. ( ) Very well done CVTBERD. Giue afide now a little, and leaue me to examine her con- 15 dition, and aptitude to my affedlion. Shee is exceeding ^^^^^v faire, and of a fpeciall good fauour : a fweet compofition, ^'^^"^'''^''' or harmony of limmes ; her temper of beauty has the true her. height of my blood. The knaue hath exceedingly wel fitted me without : I will now trie her within. Come 20 neere, faire gentlewoman : let not my behauiour feeme rude, though vnto you, being rare, it may happely appeare Arrange. ( ) Nay, | lady, you may fpeake, though CvT- she BERD, and my man, might not : for, of all founds, onely, fTiql the fweet voice of a faire lady has the iuft length of mine 25 eares, I befeech you, fay lady, out of the firft fire of meet- ing eyes, (they fay) loue is ftricken : doe you feele any fuch Act II. Scene V.] Scene III. A Roo7?i in Morose's House. G I you] your Q . .. 12 conceiue F\ conceiue Q. .. 22 happely] happily Q 23 (— ( F\ (— ) Q 26 eares] eare Q D 42 The Jilent Woman [act ii motion, fodenly fliot into you, from any part you fee in Curffie. me ? ha, lady ? ( ) Alaffe, lady, thefe anfwers by filent 3° curt'fies, from you, are too courtleffe, and fimple. I haue euer had my breeding in court : and fliee that fhall bee my wife, muft bee accomplifhed with courtly and audacious ornaments. Can you fpeake lady ? She Epi. ludge you, forfooth. •^^j" 35 MOR. What fay you, lady ? fpeake out, I befeech you. Epi. Judge you, forfooth. MOR. O' my iudgement, a diuine foftnes ! but can you naturally, lady, as I enioyne thefe by dodrine & induftry, referre^your felf to the fearch of my iudgement, 40 and (not taking pleafure in your tongue, which is a womans chiefeft pleafure) thinke it plaufible, to anfwer me by filent geftures, fo long as my fpeeches iumpe right, with what Curf/le. you conceiue ? ( ) Excellent ! diuine ! if it were poffible fhe fliould hold out thus ! Peace, CvTBERD, thou art made 45 for euer, as thou haft made mee, if this felicitie haue lafting : but I will trie her further. Deare lady, I am courtly, I tell you, and I muft haue mine eares banqueted with pleafant, and wittie conferences, pretty girds, fcoffes, and daliance in her, that I meane to choofe for my bedpheere. The 50 ladles in court, thinke it a most defperate impaire to their quickeneffe of wit, and good carriage, if they cannot giue occafion for a man to court 'hem ; and, when an amorous difcourfe is fet on foot, minifter as good matter to continue it, as himfelfe : and doe you alone fo much differ from all 55 them, that, what they (with fo much circumftance) affed, and toile for, to feeme learn'd, to feeme iudicious, to feeme fharpe, and conceited, you can bury in your felfe, with filence? and rather truft your graces to the faire confcience of vertue, then to the worlds, or your owne proclamation ? 28 sodenly] suddenly 1640 ... 30 from you] om. you 1717 33 lady] , lady Q 37 O'] On G 40 (not taking pleasure. . .)] , not taking pleasure . . . , G 44 Cvtbrd /^ Cvtberd Q . .. 55 (with . . . circumstance)] , with . . . circumstance, G 56 toile for] toile for them 1768 sc. v] The filent Woman 43 Epi. I fiiould be forry elfe. 60 MoR. What fay you, ladie ? good ladle, fpeake out. Epi. I fliould be forrie, elfe. MoR. That forrow doth fill me with gladnefle ! O Morose ! thou art happie aboue mankinde ! pray that thou maieft containe thy felfe. I will onely put her to it 65 once more, and it fliall be with the vtmoft touch, and teft of their fexe. But heare me, faire lady, I doe alfo loue to fee her, whom I fliall choofe for my heicfar, to be the firft and principall in all fafliions ; praecede all the dames at court, by a fortnight ; haue her counfell of taylors, lin- 7° neners, lace-women, embroyderers, and fit with 'hem fome- times twife a day, vpon French intelligences ; and then come foorth, varied like Nature, or oftner then flie, and better, by the helpe of Art, her aemulous feruant. This doe I affed:. And how will you be able, lady, with this 75 frugalitie of fpeech, to giue the manifold (but necefTarie) inftrudions, | for that bodies, thefe fleeues, thofe skirts, this [550] cut, that ftitch, this embroyderie, that lace, this wire, thofe knots, that ruffe, thofe rofes, this girdle, that fanne, the tother skarfe, thefe gloues ? ha I what fay you, ladie. 80 Epi. I'll leaue it to you, fir. MOR. How, lady ? pray you, rife a note. Epi. I leaue it to wifdome, and you fir. MOR. Admirable creature ! I will trouble you no more : I will not finne againft so fweet a fimplicity. Let 85 me now be bold to print, on thofe diuine lips, the feale of being mine. CvTBERD, I giue thee the leafe of thy houfe free : thanke me not, but with thy leg ( ) I know what thou woulft fay, fliee's poore, and her friends deceafed ; fliee has brought a wealthy dowrie in her filence, CVT- 90 BERD : and in refped of her pouerty, CvTBERD, I fliall haue her more louing, and obedient, CvTBERD. Goe thy waies, and get me a miniflier prefently, with a foft, low 68 heicfar] heifer 2640 .. . 70 her] ro & con, as you know)] , pro et con, as you know, G sc. v] The filent Woman 93 Trv. Beleeue mee, you fliall not ouer-fhoot your felfe, to fend him that word by me. Daw. Dehuer it, fir. He fhall haue it with all my heart, 285 to be friends. Trv. Friends? Nay, and he fhould not be fo, and heartily too, vpon thefe termes, he fhall haue me to enemie while I Hue. Come, fir, beare it brauely. Daw. O god, fir, 'tis nothing. 290 Trv. True. What 's fixe kicks to a man, that reads Seneca ? Daw. I haue had a hundred, fir. Trv. Sir Amorovs. No fpeaking one to another, or rehearfing old matters. 295 Daw. One, two, three, foure, fine. I proteft, fi.r Dauphim Amorovs, you fliall haue fixe. %rih, and Trv. Nay, I told you fhould not talke. Come, m\x^ kicks Mm. him fix, & he will needs. Your fword. Now returne to your fafe cuftody : you fliall prefently meet afore the ladies, 300 and be the dearefl friends one to another Giue me | the [532] fcarfe, now, thou fhalt beat the other barefaced. Stand by, fir Amorovs. La-F. What 's here ? A fword. Trv. I cannot helpe it, without I fliould take the 305 quarrell vpon my felfe : here he has fent you his fword La-F. I'll receiue none on 't. Trv. And he wills you to faften it againfl a wall, and breake your head in some few feuerall places againft the hilts. 310 La-F. I will not: tell him roundly. I cannot endure to filed my owne bloud. Trv. Will you not ? 285 all my heart] cm. all 1111 298 I told you should] I told you, you should lQd2 . . . 302 Stand by,] Stand by : W G This punctuation makes the speech apply to Dauphine rather than La-Foole. G inserts at the colon: [^Dauphine retires, and Truewit goes to the other closet, and releases La-FooW] 309 places] place IGiO 94 The Jilent Woman La-F. No. I'll beat it againft a faire flat wall, if that 315 will fatisfie him : If not, he fliall beat it himfelfe, for Amorovs. Trv. Why, this is ftrange ftarting off, when a man vnder-takes for you ! I offered him another condition : Will you ftand to that ? 320 La-F. I, what is 't. Trv. That you will be beaten, in priuate. La-F. Yes. I am content, at the blunt. Trv. Then you muft fubmit your felfe to bee hood- wink'd in this skarfe, and bee led to him, where hee will 325 take your fword from you, and make you beare a blow, ouer the mouth, gules ^ and tweakes by the nofe, fans mimhre. La-F. I am content. But why muft I be blinded ? Trv. That's for your good, fir: becaufe, if hee fhould 330 grow infolent vpon this, and publifh it hereafter to your difgrace (which I hope he will not doe) you might fweare fafely and proteft, hee neuer beat you, to your knowledge. La-F. O, I conceiue. Trv. I doe not doubt, but you'll be perfed good friends 335 vpon 't, and not dare to vtter an ill thought one of another, in future. La-F. Not I, as god helpe me, of him. Trv. Nor he of you, fir. If he fliould Come, fir. All hid, fir lOHN. Dauphine La-f. Oh, fir lOHN, fir lOHN. Oh, 6-6-6-6-6-Oh TweZT Trv. Good, fir Iohn, leaue tweaking, you'll blow his him. nofe off. 'Tis fir Iohn's pleafure, you fliould retire into the ftudie. Why, now you are friends. All bitternefle betweene you, I hope, is buried ; you fliall come forth by 345 and by, Damon & Pythias vpon 't : and embrace with all the ranknefie of friendfliip that can be. I truft, wee fliall haue 'hem tamer i' their language hereafter. Davphine, I worfliip thee. Gods will, the ladies haue furpris'd vs ! 341 Good, Sir John] Good Sir John Q . ., The filent Woman 95 A Si nil. Scene VI. [583] Havghty, Centavre, Mavis, M'«- Otter, Epicoene, Hauing TRVSTY, DAVPHINE, TrVE-WIT, &C. ^parTofL ^_^ ^ pajl fcene, y^Entavre, how our ludgements were impos'd on hy aboue. V^^ thefe adulterate knights ! Cen. Nay, madame, Mavis was more deceiu'd then we, 'twas her commendation vtter'd 'hem in the coUedge. Mav. I commended but their wits, madame, and their 5 braueries. I neuer look'd toward their valours. Hav. Sir Davphine is valiant, and a wit too, it feemes ? Mav. And a brauerie too. Hav. Was this his proiect? 10 M"- Ot. So mafter Clerimont intimates, madame. Hav. Good Morose, when you come to the colledge, will you bring him with you ? He feemes a very perfed: gentleman. Epi. He is fo, madame, beleeue it. 15 Cen. But when will you come, Morose ? Epi. Three or foure dayes hence, madame, when I haue got mee a coach, and horfes ? Hav. No, to morrow, good MOROSE, Centavre fhall fend you her coach. 20 Mav. Yes faith, doe, and bring fir Davphine with you. Hav. Shee has promis'd that, Mavis. Mav. He is a very worthy gentleman, in his exteriors, madame. Hav. I, he fhowes he is iudiciall in his clothes, 25 Cen. And yet not fo fuperlatiuely neat as fome, madame, that haue their faces fet in a brake ! Hav. I, and haue euery haire in forme ! 27 brake] barke miO . . . 1717 96 The filent Woman [act iiii Mav. That weare purer linnen then our felues, and pro- 30 feffe more neatnefle, then the french hermaphrodite ! Epi. I ladies, they, what they tell one of vs, haue told a thoufand, and are the only theeues of our fame : that thinke to take vs with that perfume, or with that lace, and laugh at vs vn-confcionably when they haue done. 35 Hav. But, fir Davphines carelefneffe becomes him. Cen. I could loue a man, for fuch a nofe ! Mav. Or fuch a leg ! Cen. He has an exceeding good eye, madame ! Mav. And a very good lock ! 40 Cen, Good Morose, bring him to my chamber firfl:. M"^^- Ot. Pleafe your honors, to meet at my houfe, madame ? [584] Trv. See, how they eye thee, man ! they are taken, I warrant thee. 45 Hav. You haue vnbrac'd our brace of knights, here, mafter Trve-wit. Trv. Not I, madame, it was fir Davphines ingine : who, if he haue disfurnifli'd your ladifliip of any guard, or feruice by it, is able to make the place good againe, in himfelfe. 6© Hav. There 's no fufpition of that, fir. Cen. God fo, Mavis, Havghty is kiffing. Mav. Let vs goe too, and take part. Hav. But I am glad of the fortune (befide the dif- couerie of two fuch emptie caskets) to gaine the knowledge 55 of fo rich a mine of vertue, as fir Davphine. Cen. We would be al glad to ftile him of our friend- fliip, and fee him at the colledge. Mav. He cannot mixe with a fweeter focietie, I'll pro- phefie, and I hope he himfelfe will thinke fo. 60 Dav. I fliould be rude to imagine otherwife, lady. Trv. Did not I tell thee, Davphine ? Why, all their adlions are gouerned by crude opinion, without reafon or 38 exceeding] excellent 1'7Q8 39 lock] look H 1739 1768 47 ingine] inginer Q 48 he haue] you have 1717 50 suspition] suspicion Q sc. vi] The /i lent Woman 97 caufe ; they know not why they doe any thing : but as they are inform 'd, beleeue, iudge, praife, condemne, loue, hate, and in aemulation one of another, doe all thefe things 65 alike. Onely, they haue a naturall inclination fwayes 'hem generally to the worft, when they are left to themfelues. But, purfue it, now thou haft 'hem. Hav. Shall we goe in againe, MOROSE ? Epi. Yes, madame. 70 Cen. Wee'U entreat fir Davphines companie. Trv. Stay, good madame, the inter-view of the two friends, Pylades and ORESTES : I'll fetch 'hem out to you flraight. Hav. Will you, mailer Trve-WIT ? 75 Dav. I, but noble ladies, doe not confede in your coun- tenance, or outward bearing to 'hem any difcouerie of their follies, that wee may fee, how they will beare vp againe, with what affurance, and eredion. Hav. We will not, fir Davphine. 80 Cen. Mav. Vpon our honors, fir Davphine. Trv. Sir Amorovs, fir Amorovs. The ladies are here. La-f. Are they ? Trv. Yes, but flip out by and by, as their backs are turn'd, and meet fir lOHN here, as by chance, when I call 85 you. Iack Daw. Daw. What fay you, fir ? Trv. Whip out behind me fuddenly : and no anger i' your lookes to your aduerfarie. Now, now. La-f. Noble fir Iohn Daw ! where ha' you beene ? 90 Daw. To feeke you, fir Amorovs. La-f. Me ! I honor you. Daw. I preuent you, fir. Cle. They haue forgot their rapiers ! [5851 Trv. O, they meet in peace, man. 95 Dav, Where 's your fword, fir lOHN ? Cle. And yours, fir Amorovs ? 89 i' your] in your W. . . gS The filent Woman [act iiii Daw. Mine ! my boy had it forth, to mend the handle, eene now. 100 La-F. And my gold handle was broke, too, and my boy had it forth. Dav. Indeed, fir? How their excufes meet ! Cle. What a confent there is, i' the handles ? Trv. Nay, there is fo i' the points too, I warrant you. 105 M"- T. O me ! madame, he comes againe, the mad man, away. Aa IIII. Scene VII. He had MOROSE, TRVE-WIT, ClERIMONT, DaVPHINE. found the ttvo /words T TT THat make thefe naked weapons here, gentlemen ? draw tie %/ % / ivithiti. fince you went ! A couple of knights fallen out about the brides fauours : wee were faine to take away their weapons, 5 your houfe had been beg'd by this time elfe Mor. For what ? Cle. For man-flaughter, fir, as being accedary. Mor. And, for her fauours ? Trv. I, fir, heretofore, not prefent. Clerimont, carry 'hem 10 their fwords, now. They haue done all the hurt they will doe. Dav. Ha' you fipoke with a lawyer, fir ? Mor. O, no! there is fuch a noyfe i'the court, that they haue frighted mee home, with more violence then I went ! fuch fpeaking, and counter-fpeaking, with their 15 feuerall voyces of citations, appellations, allegations, certi- ficates, attachments, intergatories, references, conuiSiions, and affli£iions indeed^ among the Dodrors and Prodors ! that the noife here is filence too 't ! a kind of calme mid-night ! Trv. Why, fir, if you would be refolu'd indeed, I can 20 bring you hether a very fufficient Lawyer, and a learned Diuine, that fliall inquire into euery leafi: fcruple for you. 2 like to been] like to have been W ... 11 a lawyer] the lawyer W... 16 intergatories] interrogatories 1640 . . . IV M SC. vii] The Ji lent IVoman gg MOR. Can you, mallrer Trve-WIT ? Trv. Yes, and are very fober graue perfons, that will difpatch it in a chamber, with a whifper, or two. MOR. Good fir, fliall I hope this benefit from you, and 25 truft my felfe into your hands ? Trv. Alas, fir ! your nephew, and I, haue beene alham'd, and oft-times mad fince you went, to thinke how you are abus'd. Goe in, good fir, and lock your felfe vp till we call you, wee '11 tell you more anon, fir. 3° MOR. Doe your pleafure with me, gentlemen ; I be- leeue in you : and that deferues no delufion Trv. You fliall find none, fir : but heapt, heapt plentie [586] of vexation. Dav. What wilt thou doe now, Wit ? 35 Trv. Recouer me hether Otter, and the Barber, if you can, by any meanes, prefently. Dav. Why ? to what purpofe ? Trv. O, I'll make the deepeft Diuine, and graueft Lawyer, out o' them two, for him 40 Dav. Thou canft not man, thefe are waking dreames. Trv. Doe not feare me. Clap but a ciuill gowne with a welt, o' the one ; and a canonical cloake with fleeues, o' the other : and giue 'hem a few termes i' the mouthes, if there come not forth as able a Do6tor, and compleat 45 a Parfon, for this turne, as may be willi'd, truft not my eledtion. And, I hope, without wronging the dignitie of either profeflion, fince they are but perfons put on, and for mirths fake, to torment him. The Barber fmatters latijt, I remember. 50 Dav. Yes, and Otter too. Trv. Well then, if I make 'hem not wrangle out this cafe, to his no comfort, let me be thought a IacK Daw, or La-Foole, or any thing worfe. Goe you to your ladies, but firft fend for them. 55 Dav. I will. 43 a welt] the welt 1717 i-OFC, loq The filent Woman [act v Aa V. Scene I. La-Foole, Clerimont, Daw, Mavis. T TT THere had you our fwords, mafter Clerimont ? V V Cle. Why, Davphine tooke 'hem from the mad-man. La-f. And he tooke 'hem from our boyes, I warrant 5 you? Cle. Very like, fir. La-F. Thanke you, good mafter Clerimont. Sir lOHN Daw, and I are both beholden to you. Cle. Would I knew how to make you fo, gentlemen. lo Daw. Sir Amorovs, and I are your feruants, fir. Mav. Gentlemen, haue any of you a pen-and-inke. I would faine write out a riddle in Italiajt, for fir DAV- PHINE, to tranflate. Cle. Not I, in troth, lady, I am no fcriuener. 15 Daw. I can furnifh you, I thinke, lady. Cle. He has it in the haft of a knife, I beleeue ! La-F. No, he has his boxe of infhruments. Cle. Like a furgean ! La-F. For the mathematiques : his fquire, his com- 20 pafles, his braile pens, and black-lead, to draw maps of euery place, and perfon, where he comes. Cle. How, maps of perfons ! [587] La-F. Yes, fir, of Nomentack, when he was here, and ot the Prince o( Moldauta, and of his millris, miftris EPICCENE. 25 Cle. Away ! he has not found out her latitude, I hope. La-F. You are a pleafant gentleman, fir. Cle. Faith, now we are in priuate, lets wanton it a little, and talke waggilhly. Sir lOHN, I am telling fir AmoROVS Ac( V. Scene I.] includes all the Act in Scene I. A Room in Morose's House. G 14 in troth,] in troth F^ 19 squire] square Wj2 ... 25 has] hath W... sc. i] The jilent Woman loi here, that you two gouerne the ladies, where e're you come, you carry the feminine gender afore you. 30 Daw. They fhall rather carry vs afore them, if they will, fir. CLE. Nay, I beleeue that they doe, withall — But, that you are the prime-men in their affedions, and diredt all their adions 35 Daw. Not I : fir Amorovs is. La-F. I proteft, fir lOHN is. Daw. As I hope to rife i' the ftate, fir Amorovs, you ha' the perfon. La-F. Sir lOHN, you ha' the perfon, and the dif- 40 courfe too. Daw. Not I, fir. I haue no difcourfe — and then you haue a6tiuitie befide. La-F. I proteft, fir lOHN, you come as high from Tri- poly, as I doe euery whit : and lift as many ioyn'd ftooles, 45 and leape ouer 'hem, if you would vfe it Cle. Well, agree on't together knights ; for betweene you, you diuide the kingdome, or common-wealth of ladies affedions : I fee it, and can perceiue a little how they obferue you, and feare you, indeed. You could tell ftrange 50 ftories, my mafters, if you would, I know. Daw. Faith, we haue feene fomewhat, fir. La-F. That we haue — vellet petti-coates, & wrought fmocks, or fo. Daw. I, and 55 Cle. Nay, out with it, fir lOHN: doe not enuie your friend the pleafure of hearing, when you haue had the delight of tafting. Daw. Why a doe you fpeake, fir Amorovs. La-F. No, doe you, fir Iohn Daw. 60 Daw. I' faith, you fiiall. La-F. r faith you fliall. Daw. Why, we haue beene 63 vellet] velvet 16i0 . . . I02 The filent Woman [act v La-f. In the great bed at Ware together in our time. 6s On, fir lOHN. Daw. Nay, doe you, fir Amorovs. Cle. And thefe ladies with you, Knights? La-f. No, excufe vs, fir. Daw. We muft not wound reputation. 70 La-f. No matter — they were thefe, or others. Our bath coft vs fifteene pound, when we came home. Cle. Doe you heare, fir lOHN, you fliall tell me but one thing truely, as you loue me. Daw. If I can, I will, fir. [588] 75 Cle. You lay in the fame houfe with the bride, here? Daw. Yes, and conuerft with her hourely, fir. Cle. And what humour is fliee of? is fhee comming, and open, free? 80 Daw. O, exceeding open, fir. I was her feruant, and fir Amorovs was to be. Cle. Come, you haue both had fauours from her? I know, and haue heard fo much. Daw. O, no, fir. 85 La-f. You fhall excufe vs, fir : we muft not wound reputation. Cle. Tut, lliee is married, now ; and you cannot hurt her with any report, and therefore fpeake plainely : how many times, yfaith ? which of you lead firft ? Ha ? 90 La-f. Sir Iohn had her mayden-head, indeed. Daw. O, it pleafes him to fay fo, fir, but fir AMOROVS knowes what 's what, as well. Cle. Do'ft thou yfaith, AMOROVS ? La-f. In a manner, fir. 95 Cle. Why, I commend you lads. Little knowes Don Bride-groome of this. Nor fliall he, for me. Daw. Hang him, mad oxe. Cle. Speake foftly : here comes his nephew, with the 89 lead] led lUO . . . sc. i] The Ji lent Woman 103 lady HavghTY. Hee'll get the ladies from you, firs, if you looke not to him in time. 100 La-F. Why, if he doe, wee'll fetch 'hem home againe, I warrant you. A& V. Scene II. Havghty, Davphine, Centavre, Mavis, Clerimont. IAflure you, fir DAVPHINE, it is the price and eftima- tion of your vertue onely, that hath embarqu'd me to this aduenture, and I could not but make out to tell you fo ; nor can I repent me of the ad:, fince it is alwayes an argument of fome vertue in our felues, that we loue and 5 affed it fo in others. Dav. Your ladifliip fets too high a price, on my weak- neffe. Hav. Sir, I can diftinguifh gemmes from peebles Dav. (Are you fo skilfull in ftones?) 10 Hav. And, howfoeuer I may fuffer in fuch a iudge- ment as yours, by admitting equality of ranke, or focietie, with Centavre, or Mavis Dav. You doe not, madame, I perceiue they are your mere foiles. 15 Hav. Then are you a friend to truth, fir. It makes me loue you the more. It is not the outward, but the inward man that I affed:. They are not apprehenfiue of an eminent perfe6lion, but loue flat, and dully. Cen. Where are you, my lady Havghty ? 20 Hav. I come prefently, Centavre. My chamber, fir, [589] my Page fliall fhow you ; and Trvsty, my woman, fliall be euer awake for you : you need not feare to communi- cate any thing with her, for fliee is a Fidelia. I pray you 3, 4 tell yon so] o»i. so Q lo G removes ( ), marking by \_AsiJe'] 2 2 show] shew 1692 . . . I04 The Jilent IVoman [act v 25 weare this iewell for my fake, fir Davphine. Where 's Mavis, Centavre? Cen. Within, madame, a writing. I'll follow you prefently. I'll but fpeake a word with fir DAVPHINE. Davp. With me, madame ? 30 Cen. Good fir Davphine, doe not truft Havghty, nor make any credit to her, what euer you doe befides. Sir Davphine, I giue you this caution, fliee is a perfedt courtier, and loues no body, but for her vfes : and for her vfes, (liee loues all. Befides, her phyfitians giue her out to 35 be none o' the cleareft, whether flie pay 'hem or no, hcau'n knowes : and fhe 's aboue fiftie too, and pargets ! See her in a fore-noone. Here comes Mavis, a worfe face then fliee ! you would not like this, by candle-light. If you'll come to my chamber one o' thefe mornings early, or late 40 in an euening, I'll tell you more. Where 's Havghty, Mavis ? Mav. Within, Centavre. Cen. What ha' you there ? Mav. An Italian riddle for fir Davphine, (you fliall 45 not fee it yfaith, Centavre.) Good fir Davphine, folue it for mee. I'll call for it anon. CLE. How now, Davphine ? how do'ft thou quit thy felfe of thefe females ? Davp. 'Slight, they haunt me WVie fayries^ and giue me 50 iewells here, I cannot be rid of 'hem. Cle. O, you muft not tell, though. Davp. MaiTe, I forgot that : I was neuer fo afTaulted. One loues for vertue, and bribes me with this. Another loues me with caution, and fo would polTeiTe me. A third 55 brings me a riddle here, and all are iealous : and raile each at other. j/c reades Cle. A, riddle ? pray' le' me fee 't ? Sir Davphine, e papei . j ckofe this way of intimation for priiiacie. The ladies here, 34 physitians] physicians Q 44 (you shall . . .)] — you shall . . . — G 50 I cannot] I cannot, I cannot n'62 sc. ii] The Jilent Woman 105 / knoWf haue both hope, and purpofe, to make a collegiate and feruant of you. If I tnight be fo honor d, as to appeare ^o at any end of fo noble a worke, I would enter into a fame of taking phyftgue to morrow, and contimce it foure or fine day es, or longer, for your vifitation. MAVIS. By my faith, a fubtle one ! Call you this a riddle ? What 's their plaine dealing, trow ? 65 Davp. We lack Trve-wit, to tell vs that. Cle. We lack him for fomewhat elfe too : his Knights reformados are wound vp as high, and infolent, as euer they were. Davp. You ieft. 70 Cle. No drunkards, either with wine or vanitie, euer confefs'd fuch ftories of themfelues. I would not giue a flies leg, in ballance againft all the womens reputations here, if they could bee but thought to fpeake | truth : and, [590] for the bride, they haue made their af[idauit againft her 75 diredly Davp. What, that they haue lyen with her ? Cle. Yes, and tell times, and circumftances, with the caufe why, and the place where. I had almoft brought 'hem to affirme that they had done it, to day. 80 Davp. Not both of 'hem. Cle. Yes faith : with a footh or two more I had efifeded it. They would ha' fet it downe vnder their hands. Davp. Why, they will be our fport, I fee, ftill ! whether we will, or no. 85 62 physique] physicke Q continue it] continue you it ^ 77 that om. 1717 . . . lyen] lain 1692 . , . H io6 The filent Woman [act v A a V. Scene III. Trve-wit, Morose, Otter, Cvtberd, Clerimont, Davphine. OAre you here ? Come Davphine. Goe, call your ^ vncle prefently. I haue fitted my Diuine, %i my Canonift, died their beards and all : the knaues doe not know themfelues they are fo exalted, and alter'd. Prefer- 5 ment changes any man. Thou fhalt keepe one dore, and I another, and then Clerimont in the midft, that he may haue no meanes of efcape from their cauilling, when they grow hot once. And then the women (as I haue giuen the bride her inftrudions) to breake in vpon him, i' the tenuoy. lo O, 'twill be full and twanging ! Away, fetch him. Come, mafter Do6tor, and mafter Parfon, looke to your parts now, and difcharge 'hem brauely : you are well fet forth, performe it as well. If you chance to be out, doe not confeffe it with ftanding ftill, or humming, or gaping at one 15 another: but goe on, and talke alowd, and eagerly, vfe vehement adion, and onely remember your termes, and you are fafe. Let the matter goe where it will : you haue many will doe fo. But at firft, bee very iblemne, and graue like your garments, though you loofe your felues 30 after, and skip out like a brace of iugglers on a table. Here hee comes ! fet your faces, and looke fupercilioufly, while I prefent you. MOR. Are thefe the two learned men ? Trv. Yes, fir, pleafe you falute 'hem ? 25 MOR. Salute 'hem ? I had rather doe any thing, then weare out time so vnfruitfully, fir. I wonder, how thefe common formes, ^s god fane you, and you are well-come^ are come to be a habit in our lines ! or, / am glad to fee you ! when I cannot fee, what the profit can bee of thefe wordes, 8 once] once againe Q 8, 9 ( ) (7 substitutes commas sc. Ill] The Jilent Woman 107 fo long as it is no whit better with him, whofe affaires are 30 fad, & grieuous, that he heares this falutation. Trv. 'Tis true, fir, wee'll goe to the matter then. Gentlemen, mafter Do6tor, and mafter Parfon, I haue acquainted you fufficiently with the bufines, for which you are come hether. And you are not now to enforme | your 35 \p^^\ felues in the ftate of the queftion, I know. This is the gentleman, who experts your refolution, and therefore, when you pleafe, beginne. Ott. Pleafe you, mafter Dodor, CvT. Pleafe you, good mafter Parfon. 40 Ott. I would heare the Canon-law fpeake firft. CvT. It muft giue place to pofitiue Diuinitie, fir. MOR. Nay, good gentlemen, doe not throw me into circumftances. Let your comforts arriue quickly at me, thofe that are. Be fwift in affoording me my peace, if fo 45 I fliall hope any. I loue not your difputations, or your court- tumults. And that it be not ftrange to you, I will tell you. My father, in my education, was wont to aduife mee, that I fliould alwayes colledt, and contayne my mind, not fuffring it to flow loofely ; that I fliould looke to what 5° things were neceftary to the carriage of my life, and what not : embracing the one and efchewing the other. In iliort, that I fliould endeare my felfe to reft, and auoid turmoile : which now is growne to be another nature to me. So that I come not to your publike pleadings, or your 55 places of noife ; not that I negledl thofe things, that make for the dignitie of the common-wealth : but for the meere auoiding of clamors, & impertinencies of Orators, that know not how to be filent. And for the caufe of noife, am I now a futor to you. You doe not know in what a miferie 6° I haue beene exercis'd this day, what a torrent of euill ! My very houfe turnes round with the tumult ! I dwell in a wind-mill ! The perpetuall motion is here, and not at Eltham. 35 hether] hither Q,.. H 2, io8 The Jilent Woman [act v 65 Trv. Well, good mafter Dodtor, will you breake the ice ? mafter Parfon will wade after. CVT. Sir, though vnworthy, and the weaker, I will prefume. Ott. 'Tis no prefumption, domine Do6tor. 70 MOR. Yet againe ! CVT. Your queftion is, for how many caufes a man may haue diuorthmi legitimum, a lawfull diuorce. Firft, you muft vnderftand the nature of the word diuorce, d diuer-r tendo 75 MoR. No excurfions vpon words, good Dodtor, to the queftion briefly. CvT. I anfwere then, the Canon-law affords diuorce but in few cafes, and the principall is in the common cafe, the adulterous cafe. But there are duodecini impedimenta, 80 twelue impediments (as we call 'hem) all which doe not dirimere contra^iim, but irrihim reddere inatrimonium, as wee fay in the Canon-law, not take away the bond, but caufe a nullitie therein. MOR. I vnderftood you, before : good fir, auoid your 85 impertinencie of tranflation. Ott. He cannot open this too much, fir, by your fauour. MoR. Yet more ! Trv. O, you muft giue the learned men leaue, fir. To 90 your impediments, mafter Dodtor. CvT. The firft is itnpedifnetttum erroris. [592] Ott. Of which there are feuerall [pedes. CvT. I, as error perfonae. Ott. If you contradl your felfe to one perfon, thinking 95 her another. CVT. Then, error for tunx. Ott. If fhee be a beggar, and you thought her rich. CVT. Then, error qualitatis. 73, 74 diuertendo] divertendendo 1640 . . . 1717 80 () (7 substitutes commas 94 you] thou 176S c. Ill] The filent Woman 109 Ott. If fliee proue ftubborne, or head-ftrong, that you thought obedient. 100 MOR. How? is that, fir, a lawfull impediment? One at once, I pray you, gentlemen, Ott. I, ante copulam, but not poft copulam, fir. CvT. Mr. Parfon faies right. Nee pofi nuptiarum benediEiionein. It doth indeed but irrita redder e fponfalia, 105 annul! the contra6t : after marriage it is no obftancy. Trv. Alas, fir, what a hope are we fall'n from, by this time ! CvT. The next is conditio', if you thought her free borne, and fhee proue a bond- woman, there is impediment no of eftate and condition, Ott. I, but Mr. Dodor, thofe feruitudes are fublatx, now, among vs chriftians, CvT. By your fauour, mafter ParfiDn Ott. You ihall giue me leaue, rriafter Dodor. 115 MOR. Nay, gentlemen, quarrell not in that queftion ; it concernes not my cafe : pafle to the third, CvT, Well then, the third is votum. If either partie haue made a vow of chaftitie. But that practice, as mafter Parfon faid of the other, is taken away among vs, thanks 120 be to difcipline. The fourth is cognatio : if the perfons be of kinne, within the degrees, Ott. I ; doe you know, what the degrees are, fir ? MOR. No, nor I care not, fir : they offer me no comfort in the queftion, I am fure. 125 CvT. But, there is a branch of this impediment may, which is cognatio fpiritualis. If you were her god-father, fir, then the marriage is inceftuous. Ott. That comment is abfurd, and fuperftitious, mafter Dodor. I cannot endure it. Are we not all brothers and 130 fifters, and as much a kinne in that, as god-fathers, and god-daughters ? MOR. O me ! to end the controuerfie, I neuer was 104, 112 Mr.] Master Q... I lo The filent Woman [act v a god-father, I neuer was a god-father in my life, fir. Pafle 135 to the next. CvT. The fift is crimen adulterij: the knowne cafe. The sixt, ciiltus difparitas, difference of religion : haue you euer examin'd her what religion fhee is of? MOR. No, I would rather fhee were of none, then bee 140 put to the trouble of it ! Ott. You may haue it done for you, fir. MOR. By no meanes, good fir, on, to the reft : Ihall you euer come to an end, thinke you ? [593] Trv. Yes, hee has done halfe, fir. (On, to the reft) be 145 patient, and exped, fir. CvT. The feuenth is, vis : if it were vpon compulfion, or force. MOR. O no, it was too voluntarie, mine : too volun- tarie. 150 CvT. The eight is, ordo : if euer fliee haue taken holy orders. Ott. That 's fuperftitious, too. MOR. No matter, mafter Parfon : would fhee would goe into a nunnerie yet. 155 CVT. The ninth is, liganien : if you were bound, fir, to any other before. MOR. I thruft my felfe too foone into thefe fetters. CVT. The tenth is, publice honeftas : which is inchoata qudedain affinitas. 160 Ott. I, or affinitas orta ex Jponfalibus : and is but leue impedimenium. MOR. I feele no aire of comfort blowing to me, in all this. CVT. The eleuenth is, affinitas ex forjiicatione. 165 Ott. Which is no lelle vera affittitas, then the other, mcifter Doctor. 134 in] id ^ 136 fift] fifth l&iO . ^. 137 sixt] sixth 1640 . . . 144, 145 (On, lo the rest) be patient, ...]r On to the rest. — Be patient, ... G 150 eight] eighth Q 1640 . . . sc. Ill] The filent Woman iii CvT. True, quae oritur ex legitimo matrimonio. Ott. You fay right, venerable Dodor. And, nafcitur ex eo, quod per coniugium dude perfonde efficiuntur una care MoR. Hey-day, now they beginne. 17° CvT. I conceiue you, mafter Parfon. Ita per fornica- tionem xque eft verus pater, qui fie generat Ott. Et vere filitis qui fie generatur MOR. What 's all this to me ? Cle. Now it growes warme. 175 CvT. The twelfth, and laft \s,fi forte coire nequibis. Ott. I, that is impedimentuni grauifsimum. It doth vtterly annull, and annihilate, that. If you haue mani- feftam frigiditatem, you are well, fir. Trv. Why, there is comfort come at length, fir. Con- 180 fefle your felf but a man vnable, and fliee will fue to be diuorc'd firft. Ott. I, or if there be morbus perpetuus, & infanabilis, as Paralifis, Elephautiafis, or fo Dav. O, hM\. frigiditas is the fairer way, gentlemen. 185 Ott. You fay troth, fir, and as it is in the canon, mafter Dodor. CVT. I conceiue you, fir. Cle. Before he fpeakes. Ott. That a boy, or child, vnder yeeres, is not fit for 190 marriage, becaufe he cannot reddere debitum. So your omnipotentes Trv. Your impotentes, you whorfon Lobfter. Ott. Your impotentes, I fhould fay, are minime apti ad contrahenda matrimonium. 195 Trv. Matrimonium? Wee Ihall haue most vn-matri- moniall latin, with you : viatrimonia, and be hang'd. Dav. You put 'hem out, man. CVT. But then there will arife a doubt, mafter Parfon, in our cafe, | poft matrimonium : that frigiditate praeditus, 200 [594] (doe you conceiue me, fir ?) 201 — do you conceive me, sir? G 112 The Jilent Woman [act v Ott. Very well, fir. CvT. Who cannot vti vxore pro vxore, may habere eatn pro for ore. 205 Ott. Abfurd, abfurd, abfurd, and merely apoftaticall. CvT. You fhall pardon me, mafter Parfon, I can proue it. Ott. You can proue a Will, mafter Do6lor, you can proue nothing elfe. Do's not the verfe of your owne canon aio fay. Hsec focianda vetant conubia, fatl:a retraEiant CVT. I grant you, but how doe they retra£iare, mafter Parfon ? MOR. (O, this was it, I fear'd.) Ott. In aeternum, fir. 215 CVT. That 's falfe in diuinitie, by your fauour. Ott. 'Tis falfe in humanitie, to fay fo. Is hee not prorfns invtilis ad thoruin ? Can \\q, prxflare fidem daiani ? I would faine know. CVT. Yes : how if he doe conualere ? 320 Ott. He can not conualere^ it is impoffible. Try, Nay, good fir, attend the learned men, they'll thinke you negle6t 'hem elfe. CvT. Or, if he doe fimulare himfelfe frigidtim^ odio vxoris, or fo ? 235 Ott. I fay, he is adrdter manifefius^ then. Davp. (They difpute it very learnedly, yfaith.) Ott. And proflitutor vxoris, and this is pofitiue. MOR. Good fir, let me efcape. Trv. You will not doe me that wrong, fir ? 330 Ott. And therefore, if he be nianifefie frigidus^ fir CvT. I, if he be manifejie frigidus, I grant you Ott. Why, that was my conclufion. CVT. And mine too. Trv. Nay, heare the conclufion, fir. 335 Ott. Th.QTiyfrigiditatis caufa CVT. Yes, caufa frigiditatis 210 conubia\ connubia Q... 213, 226 ( ) om. G sc. Ill] The filent Woman 113 MOR. O, mine eares ! Ott. Shee may haue libellum diuortij, againft you. CvT. I, ditiortij libellum fliee will fure haue. MOR. Good eccho's, forbeare. 240 Ott. If you confede it. CvT. Which I would doe, fir MOR. I will doe any thing Ott. And cleere my felfe mforo confcientix CvT. Becaufe you want indeed 245 MoR. Yet more ? Ott. Exercendi potefiate. A a V. Scene I III. [595] Epicoene, Morose, Havghty, Centavre, Mavis, M"- Otter, Daw, Trve-wit, Davphine, Clerimont, La-Foole, Otter, Cvtberd. I Will not endure it any longer. Ladies, I befeech you helpe me. This is fuch a wrong, as neuer was ofifer'd to poore bride before. Vpon her marriage day, to haue her husband confpire againft her, and a couple of mercin- arie companions, to be brought in for formes fake, to 5 perfwade a feparation ! If you had bloud, or vertue in you, gentlemen, you would not fufifer fuch eare-wigs about a husband, or fcorpions, to creep between man and wife MOR. O, the varietie and changes of my torment ! Hav. Let 'hem be cudgell'd out of dores, by our 10 groomes. Cen. I'll lend you my foot-man. Mav, Wee'll haue our men blanket 'hem i' the hall. M"- Ot. As there was one, at our houfe, madame, for peeping in at the dore. 15 Daw. Content, yfaith. 245 want] wane Q 1 14 The filent Woman [act v Trv. Stay, ladies, and gentlemen, you'll heare, before you proceed ? Mav. rild ha' the bride-groome blanketted, too. 20 Cen. Beginne with him firft. Hav. Yes, by my troth. MOR. O, mankind generation ! Davp. Ladies, for my fake forbeare. Hav. Yes, for fir Davphines fake. 25 Cen. He fliall command vs. La-f. He is as fine a gentleman of his inches, madame, as any is about the towne, and weares as good colours when he lift. Trv. Be brief, fir, and confefle your infirmitie, fhee'll be 30 a-fire to be quit of you, if fliee but heare that nam'd once, you fhall not entreat her to ftay. Shee'll flie you, like one that had the marks vpon him. MOR. Ladies, I muft craue all your pardons Trv. Silence, ladies. 35 Mor. For a wrong I haue done to your whole fexe, in marrying this faire, and vertuous gentlewoman Cle. Heare him, good ladies. MOR. Being guiltie of an infirmitie, which before, I confer'd with thefe learned men, I thought I might haue 40 conceal'd ■ Trv. But now being better inform'd in his confcience by them, hee is to declare it, & giue fatisfadlion, by asking your publique forgiueneffe. [596] Mor. I am no man, ladies. 45 All. How ! Mor. Vtterly vn-abled in nature, by reafon oi frigidity, to performe the duties, or any the leaft office of a husband. Mav. Now, out vpon him, prodigious creature ! 50 Cen. Bride-groome vncarnate. 19 nid] I'll i7i7; rid IV; I'd G 28 list] lists lUQ... 43 publique] publick md2 . . . ; public G sc. mi] The Jilent Woman 115 Hav. And would you offer it, to a young gentle- woman ? M"- Ot. a lady of her longings ? Epi. Tut, a deuice, a deuice, this, it fmells rankly, ladies. A mere comment of his owne. 55 Trv. Why, if you fufped that, ladies, you may haue him fearch'd. Daw. As the cuftome is, by a iurie of phyfitians. La-f. Yes faith, 'twill be braue. MOR. O me, muft I vnder-goe that ! 60 ]y[r8. Qrp_ ]sJq^ |g^ women fearch him, madame: we can doe it ourfelues. MOR. Out on me, worfe ! Epi. No, ladies, you fhall not need, I'll take him with all his faults. 65 MOR. Worft of all. Cle. Why, then 'tis no diuorce, Dodor, if fliee confent not? CVT. No, if the man be frigidus, it is de parte vxoris, that wee grant libellum diuortij, in the law. 7° Ott. I, it is the fame in theologie. * MOR. Worfe, worfe then worft ! Trv. Nay, fir, bee not vtterly dif-heartned, wee haue yet a fmall relique of hope left, as neere as our comfort is blowne out. Clerimont, produce your brace of Knights. 75 What was that, mafter Parfon, you told me zn err ore qualitatis, e'ne now ? Davphine, whifper the bride, that ftiee carry it as if fhee were guiltie, and afliam'd. Ott. Mary fir, m errore qualitatis (which mafter Doftor did forbeare to vrge) if Ihee bee found corrupta^ that is, 80 vitiated or broken vp, that was pro -virgine defponfa^ efpous'd for a maid MOR. What then, fir ? Ott. It doth dirimere contraBtim, and irritum redder e too. 73 dis-heartned] disheartened G 74 relique] relike Q ; relick 1&92 . . . ; relic M 1 16 The filent Woman [act v 85 Trv. If this be true, we are happy againe, fir, once more. Here are an honorable brace of Knights, that fhall affirme fo much. Daw. Pardon vs, good matter Clerimont. La-f. You fhall excufe vs, mafter Clerimont. 90 CLE. Nay, you muft make it good now. Knights, there is no remedie, I'll eate no words for you, nor no men : you know you fpoke it to me ? Daw. Is this gentleman-like, fir ? Trv. Iack Daw, hee 's worfe then fir Amorovs : fiercer 95 a great deale. Sir Amorovs, beware, there be ten Dawes in this Clerimont. La-f. I'll confefTe it, fir. Daw. Will you, fir Amorovs ? will you wound re- putation ? 100 La-f. I am refialu'd. [597] Trv. So fhould you be too, Iack Daw : what fhould keepe you off? Shee is but a woman, and in difgrace. Hee'll be glad on 't. Daw. Will he ? I thought he would ha' beene angrie. 105 Cle. You will difpatch, Knights, it muft be done, yfaith. Trv. Why, an' it muft it fliall, fir, they fay. They'll ne're goe backe. Doe not tempt his patience. Daw. It is true indeed, fir. no La-f. Yes, I affure you, fir. MOR. What is true gentlemen ? what doe you afliire me? Daw. That we haue knowne your bride, fir La-f. In good fafhion. Shee was our miftris, or fo 115 Cle. Nay, you muft be plaine, Knights, as you were to me. Ott. I, the queftion is, if you haue carnaliter, or no. La-f. Carnaliier ? what elfe, fir ? Ott. It is inough : a plaine nullitie. 93 gentleman-like] gentleman-like-like Q sc. mi] The filent Woman 117 En. I am vn-done ! I am vn-done ! lao MOR. O, let me worfhip and adore you, gentlemen ! Epi. I am vn-done ! MoR. Yes, to my hand, I thanke thefe Knights : mafter Parfon, let me thanke you otherwife. Cen. And, ha' they confefs'd ? 125 Mav. Now out vpon 'hem, informers ! Trv. You fee, what creatures you may beftow your fauours on, madames. Hav. I would except againft 'hem as beaten Knights, wench, and not good witneflTes in law. 130 M"- Ot. Poore gentlewoman, how Ihee takes it ! Hav. Be comforted, MoROSE, I loue you the better for't. Cen. So doe I, I proteft. CVT. But gentlemen, you haue not knowne her, fince 135 matrimonmm ? Daw. Not to day, mafter Dodor. La-f. No, fir, not to day. CVT. Why, then I fay, for any adl before, the matri- monium. is good and perfed : vnlefie, the worfhipfuU Bride- 140 groome did precifely, before witnefle demand, if fhee were virgo ante nuptias. Epi. No, that he did not, I aflTure you, mafter Dodor. CvT. If he cannot proue that, it is ratum coniugium, notwithftanding the premifes. And they doe no way 145 impedire. And this is my fentence, this I pronounce. Ott. I am of mafter Dodtors refolution too, fir : if you made not that demand, ante nuptias. MoR. O my heart ! wilt thou breake ? wilt thou breake ? this is worft of all worft worfts ! that hell could haue deuis'd ! 150 Marry a whore ! and fo much noife ! Davp. Come, I fee now plaine confederacie in this Doitor, and this | Parfon, to abufe a gentleman. You [598] ftudie his afflidion. I pray bee gone companions. And 154 bee gone companions] be gone, companions WiO . . . ii8 The Jilent Woman [act v 155 gentlemen, I begin to fufped you for hauing parts with 'hem. Sir, will it pleafe you heare me ? MOR. O, doe not talke to me, take not from mee the pleafure of dying in filence, nephew. Davp. Sir, I muft fpeake to you. I haue beene long 160 your poore defpis'd kinf-man, and many a hard thought has ftrength'ned you againfb me : but now it (hall appeare if either I loue you or your peace, and preferre them to all the world befide. I will not bee long or grieuous to you, fir. If I free you of this vnhappy match abfolutely, and 165 inftantly after all this trouble, and almoft in your defpaire, now MOR. (It cannot be.) Davp. Sir, that you bee neuer troubled with a murmure of it more, what fhall I hope for, or deferue of you ? 170 MOR. O, what thou wilt, nephew! thou fhalt deferue mee, and haue mee. Davp. Shall I haue your fauour perfed to me, and loue hereafter ? MOR. That, and any thing befide. Make thine owne 175 conditions. My whole eftate is thine. Manage it, I will become thy Ward. Davp. Nay, fir, I will not be fo vn-reafonable. Epi. Will fir Davphine, be mine enemie too ? Davp. You know, I haue beene long a futor to you, 180 vncle, that out of your eftate, whfch is fifteen hundred a yeere, you would allow me but fine hundred during life, and aflure the reft vpon me after : to which I haue often, by my felfe and friends tendred you a writing to figne, which you would neuer confent, or incline too. If you 185 pleafe but to affe6t it now MOR. Thou flialt haue it, nephew. I will doe it, and more. Davp. If I quit you not prefently ? and for-euer of this ' cumber, you fliall haue power inftantly, afore all thefe, to i6-] {) om. G 188 presently ?] presently, 1640 .. . sc. mi] The Jilent Woman 119 reuoke your a6t, and I will become, whofe flaue you will 19° giue me to, for-euer. MOR. Where is the writing ? I will feale to it, that, or to a blanke, and write thine owne conditions. Epi. O me, moft vnfortunate wretched gentlewoman ! Hav. Will fir Davphine doe this ? 195 Epi. Good fir, haue fome compaflfion on me. MOR. O, my nephew knowes you belike : away crocodile. Cen. He do's it not fure, without good ground. Davp. Here, fir. 200 MoR. Come, nephew: giue me the pen. I will fub- fcribe to any thing, and feale to what thou wilt, for my deliuerance. Thou art my reftorer. Here, I deliuer it thee as my deed. If there bee a word in it lacking, or writ with falfe orthographic, I proteft before 1 will not take 205 the aduantage. Davp. Then here is your releafe, fir ; you haue married He takes of a boy: a gentlemans fon, that I haue brought vp \h.\s pf^^^"g^ halfe yeere, at my great charges, and for this compofition, which I haue now made with you. What fay you, [ mafter 2io[599] Do6bor? this is iufium impedimentum, I hope, error perfonse ? Ott. Yes fir, in primo gradu. CvT. In primo gradu. Davp. I thanke you, good Dodor CvTBERD, and Par- He pulls fon Otter. You are beholden to 'hem, fir, that haue beardes and taken this paines for you : and my friend, mafl:er Trve- difguifes. WIT, who enabled 'hem for the bufineflfe. Now you may goe in and reft, be as priuate as you will, fir. I'll not trouble you, till you trouble me with your funerall, which 220 I care not how foone it come. Cvtberd, I'll make your leafe good. Thanke mee not, but with your leg, Cvtberd. And Tom Otter, your Princefie fhall be reconcil'd to you. How now, gentlemen ! doe you looke at me ? 205 before ] before [heaven] G 120 The Jilent Woman 225 Cle. a boy. Davp. Yes, miftris EPICOENE. Trv. Well, Davphine, you haue lurch'd your friends of the better halfe of the garland, by concealing this part of the plot ! but much good doe it thee, thou deferu'ft it, lad. 230 And Clerimont, for thy vnexpe6ted bringing in thefe two to confeffion, weare my part of it freely. Nay, fir Daw, and fir La-Foole, you fee the gentlewoman that has done you the fauours ! we are all thankefull to you, and fo fhould the woman-kind here, fpecially for lying on her, 235 though not with her ! You meant fo, I am fure ? But, that we haue ftuck it vpon you to day, in your own imagin'd perfons, and fo lately ; this /i/;z/^. 12, vol. 8, 150; The Woman Captain (1680); Shadwell, Squire of Alsatia (1688). Walter Scott's Fortunes of Nigel, eh. 17, describes the liberty in detail at the time of James I. 26. eate a weeke at ord'naries. Volp. 5. 2, p. 300: Sir p. O, I shall be the fable of all feasts. The freight of the gazetti, ship boys' tale : And, which is worse, even talk for ordinaries. Dekker, Guls Horne-Booke, ch. 5, describes ordinaries of various prices : ' an ordinary of the largest reckoning, whither most of your worthy gallants do resort ' ; a twelve-penny ordinary fre- quented by ' the justice of peace or young knight ' ; and a three- penny ordinary ' to which your London Usurer, your stale batchelor, and your thrifty attorney do resort'. The ordinary had meant originally an ordinary meal, a table dhdte', later, the place where such a meal might be had. In Jonson's time, when the more expensive ordinaries were frequented by men of fashion, the term became synonymous with gambling-house. Dekker writes further in Lanthorne and Candle Light, Pr. Wks. 3. 221 : 'An Ordinary was the only Rendevouz for the most ingenious, most terse, most trauaild, and most phantastick gallant : the only booke-sellers shop for conference of the best Editions, that if a woman (to be a Lady) PROL.] Notes ' 129 would cast away herself vpon a Knight, there a man should heare a Catalogue of most of the richest London widowers.' Cf. Wm. Cartwright, The Ordinary, Haz.-Dods., vol. 1 2 ; and The Fortunes of Nigel, ch. 12. Another [Prologue]. In the folio of 1692 is a stanza by Beaumont modeled on this second prologue : UPON THE SILENT WOMAN. Hear you bad Writers, and though you not see, I will inform you where you happy be : Provide the most malicious thoughts you can, And bend them all against some private man. To bring him, not his Vices, on the Stage ; Your Envy shall be clad in some poor Rage, And your expressing of him shall be such. That he himself shall think he hath no touch. Where he that strongly writes, although he mean To scourge but Vices in a labour'd Scene, Yet private Faults shall be so well exprest As men do act 'em, that each private Breast, That finds these Errors in it self, shall say, He meant me, not my Vices, in the Play. 2. profit and delight. Horace, Ars Poet. 343, 344 : Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit utile dulci, Lectorem delectando pariterque monendo. Jonson's translation, vol. 9. 107 : But he hath every suffrage, can apply Sweet mixt with sour to his reader so As doctrine and delight together go. Volp.^ Prologue : In all his poems still hath been this measure. To mix profit with your pleasure. S. of News, Epilogue : Thus have you seen the maker's double scope, To profit and delight. Love's Triumph, vol. 8. 85 : 'AH Representations, especially those of this nature in court, public spectacles, either have been, or ought to be, the mirrors of man's life, whose ends, for the excel- 130 The Silent Woman [prol, lence of their exhibitors . . . ought always to carry a mixture of profit with them, no less than dehght.' 4. taxe the crimes : i. e. censure evil doings without incrimi- nating any particular person. Cf. Horace, Sat. 2, i. 83 ff. : Esto, si quis mala ; sed bona si quis ludice condiderit laudatus Caesare? Si quis Opprobriis dignum latraverit, integer ipse ? Martial 10. 33. 10: Hunc servare modum nostri novere libelli, Parcere personis, dicere de vitiis. Jonson reiterates this theory of satire, Poet., p. 510 : Sharp, yet modest rhymes That spare men's persons, and but tax their crimes. Apol. Dial, p. 514: My books have still been taught To spare the persons, and to speak the vices. Mag. Lady 2. i, p. 47 : Pro. a play, though it apparel and present vices in general, flies from all particularities in persons. So also Disc. 144, vol. 9. 210. 7. On forfeit of yourselves. As a reminder of the time when men might sell themselves for debt, and as a thrust at extravagant wagers, we find this expression recurring in the old plays. For other examples, cf. 4. i. 151 : 'play the mountebank. . . . while I Hue'; 4. 5. 26: 'thou shalt be his foole for euer'; 5. 4. 170: 'thou shalt deserue mee, and haue mee ' ; 4. 5. 190: ' I will become whose slaue you will giue me to, foreuer.' 8. maker: i.e. 'poet.' Cf. Disc. 146, vol. 9.212: 'a poet is that, which by the Greeks is called Kar e^oxrjv O noiHTHS, a maker.' 10. truths: i.e. facts, and so line 7 true becomes 'actual occurrence '. .S". of News, Prologue (For the Court), vol. 5. 159 : We . . . shew you common follies, and so known. That though they are not truths, the innocent Muse, Hath made so like, as phant'sy could them state, Or poetry, without scandal, imitate. 13. that he meant him or her. Cf Dedic. 19, note. Years later, in 1632, Jonson wrote, Mag. Lady 2. i, p. 46 : Dam. But whom doth your poet mean now by this master Bias .? what lord's secretary doth he purpose to personate or perstringe .'' PROL.] The Silent Woman 131 Boy. You might as well ask me, what alderman, or alderman's mate, he meant by sir Moth Interest . . . Pro. It is an insidious question, brother Damplay : iniquity itself would not have urged it. It is picking the lock of the scene, not opening it with a key. A play, though it apparel and present vices in general, flies from all particularities in persons. Would you ask of Plautus, and Terence, if they both lived now, who were Davus or Pseudolus in the scene, who Pyrgopolinices or Thraso ? 14. they make a libell. Mag. Lady 2. i, p. 47 refers to this prologue : Dam. Why, I can fancy a person to myself, boy, who shall hinder me ? Boy. And in not publishing him, you do no man an injury. But if you will utter your owne ill meaning on that person under the author's words, you make a libel of his comedy. Dam. O, he told us that in a prologue^ long since. Epig. 30, vol. 8. 160, To Parson Guilty. Guilty, be wise ; and though thou knowest the crimes. Be thine, I tax, yet do not own my rhymes : 'Twere madness in thee, to betray thy fame. And person to the world, ere I thy name. Act I. Scene I. MN. making himself ready. This is the usual way of saying 'dressing himself. D. A. 3. i, p. 87 : Wit. Is it not high time to be making ready .? Unready is used in the opposite sense, e.g. Bar. Fair i. i, P- 374: Lit. Cut thy lace. Mrs. Lit. No, I'll not make me unready for it. and half-ready, 'half-dressed', as in W. is a Weathercock i. i. Boy. The gallants had Irish foot-boys to attend their horses, and French pages to carry their cloaks. Dekker, Guls Horn-Booke, Pr. Wks. 2. 230: 'The old worme-eaten Farmer (his father) bee dead, and left him fiue hundred a yeare, onely to keep an Irish hobby, an Irish horse-boy, and himselfe (like a gentleman).' He goes on to advise a gull to call his page not by a name, as it seems too familiar, but ' boy '. Cf. Cyn. Rev. 2. i, p. 238 : Mer. What (art thou) to the lady nymph you serve? 132 The Silent Woman [act i Cup. Troth, boy, page, and sirrah: these are all my titles. Mer. Thou hast not altered thy name . . . ? Cup. O, no, that had been supererogation ; you shall never hear your courtier call but by one of these three. Ibid. 2. I, p. 247, Asotus calls his page by name, 'Prosaites !' Whereupon Amorphus cries, ' Fie 1 I premonish you of that : in the court, boy, laquey, or sirrah ! ' Cf. Epicoene 4. 4. 98 ff.. Daw and La-Foole's ' boys '. 6. the dangerous name of a Poet. Dekker, Horn-Booke, Pr. Wks. 2. 243 : ' You may abuse the workes of any man ; depraue his M'ritings that you cannot equall, and purchase to your selfe in time the terrible name of a seuere Criticke ; nay, and be one of the Colledge ; if youle be liberall inough : and (when your turne comes) pay for their suppers.' 8. wot. This is 2nd pers. sing. The conjugation of wit in pres. sing, is rightly ist pers. wot, 2nd pers. wost or wottest, 3rd pers. wot or wotteth. Cf. however Discourse betwixt Wit and Will, Nicholas Breton: 'But wot you who it is?' Cori'ol. 4. i. 27: ' You wot well my hazards still have been your solace.' 11. thinke. Notice the absolute use of the verb. Thus used, it means 'believe', as i. 3. 5. 12. rack'd out of you. Despite the legislation against this treatment of criminals in the reign of Elizabeth, it was not done away with until long after Epicoene appeared. It played an important part in the trial following the Gunpowder Plot of Nov. 5, 1605, and Francis Bacon himself used it years later. Dekker, The Dead Tearme, Pr. Wks. 4. 11: 'I doe not pine to see that Ancient and oldest Sonne of mine, with his limbes broken to pieces (as if he were a male-factor and hadde beene tortured on the Germaine Wheele).' The expression was used conventionally. Mag. Lady i. i, p. 20: ' Spare the torture, I do confess without it.' Troil. and Cress, i. 2. 151 : Pan. I must needs confess, . . . Cres. Without the rack. 16. perruke. About the middle of the sixteenth century wear- ing perukes became the fashion. Immense ones with curls falling upon the shoulders were worn 1 660-1 725, and later less aggressive sorts. They are still worn by the Lord Chancellor, the Speaker of the House of Commons, judges, barristers, &c. The satirists sc. i] Notes 133 inveighed against the custom often, and Shakespeare did not fail to notice it. In Elizabeth's time many were sandy-coloured out of compliment to her. Stubbes says that children were lured into out- of-the-way places by envious women to have their hair cut for wigs. Much Ado 2. 3. 36: Benedict. 'Her hair shall be of what colour it please God.' Two G. of Ver. 4. 4. 194 : Julia. Her hair is auburn, mine is perfect yellow: If that be all the difference in his love, I'll get me such a coloured periwig. 22. rushes. This common floor-covering in the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, left by careless housekeeping to gather foulness, and only once in a while swept out into the street, must have been a disease-breeding nuisance. From the time of Erasmus until they were finally done away with, they were condemned as un- clean by all thoughtful writers, i Hen. /F 3. i. 214; Cjym. 2. 2. 12; Rom. and Jul. i. 4. 35: Romeo. A torch for me : let wantons light of heart Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels. Cyn. Rev. 2. i, p. 256 : Pro. All the ladies and gallants be languishing upon the rushes, like so many pounded cattle, 28. the plague. The Plague, or Black Death, entered Eng- land at a port of Dorsetshire — said in the Eulogium to have been Melcombe (Weymouth) — in the beginning of Aug. 1348. Before the end of the year it reached London. It was part of a wave of infection which passed over Europe from the remote East, and was sometimes called the Oriental, Levantine, or Bubonic Plague. Jonson saw London pass through several visitations — 1580-2; 1592 till the end of the century; 1603 with a mortality of 38,000; 1625, the third great London plague, with 35,417 deaths; 1636, the fourth great plague of London, with a mortality of 10,400 ; in 1637, 3,082 people died of it; in 1647 occurred the fifth epidemic, with 3,597 deaths; in 1664-5 came the Great Plague of London, when 68,596 people out of a population of 460,000 died. It is supposed that two-thirds had fled the city. Creighton, History of Epidemics (i. 493), writes of the lesser visitations subsequent to the fearful plague of 1603, and covering the year in which our comedy was played : ' There was little 134 T^^^ Silent Woman [act i plague in 1604, and not much in 1605; but in 1606 the infec- tion again became active, and continued at its endemic level for some five or six years.' He records the annual deaths thus : 1606, 2,124; 1607, 2,352; 1608, 2,262; 1609,4,240; 1610, 1,803. This controverts Gifford's statement that there were no cases of plague in London after 1603-4. Cunningham has a note to the effect that on September ist of 1609 John Murray wrote to the Earl of Salisbury saying that the king desired him to ' come no nearer London than Kensington in his way to Hampton Court for fear of the plague.' In 1608 Dekker wrote in The Dead Tearnie, Pr. Wks. 8. 'j'j : ' Sickness hath dwelt a long time in thy Chambers, she doth now walke still in a ghostly and formidable shape uppe and down my streets. But woe to mee (unfortunate Citty) shall wee neuer shake handes with her and part ? ' Dekker s book descriptive of the plague of 1602 is T/ie Wo?ider_/ul Veare, Pr. Wks., vol. i; and that of 1625, The Rod /or Runaway es^ vol. 4, where, p. 282, he records: 'We are punished with a Sicknesse, which is dreadful three manner of ways : In the generall spreading ; in the quicknesse of the stroke; and in the terror which waits upon it. It is generall : for the spotted wings of it couer all the face of the kingdome. It is quicke : for it kills suddenly ; it is full of terror, for the Father dares not come near the infected Son, nor the Son come to take a blessing from the Father, lest he be poysoned by it.' The Century Diet, describes at length a typical case of the plague. . 34. horse-race or hunting-match. Disc. 163, vol. 9. 223 : ' What need we know any thing that are nobly born, m.ore than a horse-race, or a hunting-match, our day to break with citizens, and such innate mysteries.' For a description of horse racing see Strutt, Sports and Past., pp. 32 ff., and Ejicyc. Brit, under Race. In the reign of James I public races were established in many parts of the kingdom, but it was not really a national pastime until Charles II established Newmarket, which became a very famous resort. In 1658 Cromwell issued a proclamation 'pro- hibiting horse-races in England and Wales for eight months'. There is A Discource of Horsemanshippe (1593-4), by Gervaise Markham, and a Cavelarice, or the arte afid knowledge belonging to the Horse-ryder (1607). For the distinctly English sport of hmiting, cf. Thornbury, Sh. Eng. i. 402 fF. ; Strutt, Sports and Past., ch. I. sc. i] Notes 135 35. Puppy or Pepper-corne. Three favorite horses are mentioned in Ignoramus, but a much more copious list may be found in Shirley's Hyde-Parke. Whitemane was a very noted racer. In some manuscript memoirs of Sir H. Eynes the following passage occurs : ' Alsoe in these-.my trobles with my wife, I was forced to give my lord of Holdernes my grey running horse called Whitemayne for a gratuity, for which I might have had £100.' — G. There is a reference to pepper-corne in i Henry IV 3. 3. 8 : Fal. An I have not forgotten what the inside of a church is made of. I am a pepper-corn, a brewer's horse. 39. bowler. Evidences are numerous as to the popularity of bowling and the unfriendly attitude of satirists. Cf. Strutt, Sports and Fast., p^p. 86, 216. HoweW, londi'nopoh's, p. '^gg : 'Within the City what variety of bowling-allies there are, some open, some covered. There are tennis-courts, shuffle-boards, playing at cudgels, cock-fightings, a sport peculiar to the English, and so is bear and bull-baytings, there being not such dangerous dogs and cocks anywhere else.' Gosson, School of Abuse (1579): 'Com- mon bowling-alleys are priuy mothes that eat up the credit of many idle citizens, whose gaynes at home are not able to weigh downe theyr losses abroad. Oh, what a wonderful change is this 1 our wrestling at armes is turned to wallowing in ladies' laps, our courage to cowardice, our running to royot, our bowes into bowls, and our darts into dishes.' better. Let Dekker be sufficient witness that betting was a great evil among London gallants of the time. Lanthorne and Cajidle- light, Pr. Wks. 3. 221 : ' The voider hauing cleered the table, Cardes and Dice (for the last Messe) are serued vp to the boord : they that are ful of coyne, drawe they that haue little, stand by&giue ay7?ie ; they shuffle zxvd. cut on one side,' &c. Bel-man of london, ibid. 3. 132 : 'The Dyeing cheator, and the cozening Card-player, walke in the habites of Gentlemen, and cary the faces of honest men. So likewise doe those that are Students in the Vincents Lawe : whose Inne is a Bowling Alley, whose books 'are bowles, and whose law cases are lurches and rubbers. The pastime of bowles is now growne to a common exercise, or rather a trade of which some of all companies are free ; the sport is not so common as the cozenage vsed in it, which to haue it Hue with cre[flyt and in a good name is called the Vincent Law.' There fol!r Ws a description of the game, and the cheaters at it. greene. 136 The Silent Woman [act i Many of the nobility had these places for bowling in the open air ; alleys were not used until difficulty in maintaining greens made alleys necessary for the general run of players. Stow says that Henry VIII added bowHng alleys to Whitehall when he made improvements there. 40. fashionable men. Among the satirists inveighing against men of fashion Dekker stands first with his oft-quoted Guh Horyi- Booke ; excellent satire of a few years later is Earle's Micro-Cosmo- graphy. Idleness, which True-wit scores here, is exposed in Dekker's description of a typical day's routine. Rising a little before noon, the man of fashion goes to Paul's Walk to hear the news and show his clothes ; he rides to the ordinary for midday dinner, gossips, &c. ; once more at home, he changes his clothes and goes to the play on horseback, not ' to taste vaine pleasures with a hungry appetite: but onely as a Gentleman to spend a foolish houre or two, because you can doe nothing else. Then to the tauern for supper, and a whole euening as you choose for idleness '. Dekker derides fashion in more prosy, allegorical style under ' Lying ' in the second part of The Seven Deadly Si'nnes, Pr. Wks. 2, and 'Apishness', where, on p. 57, he describes the Gallant as ' but yong, for hees a feirse, dapper fellow, more light headed than a Musitian : as phantastically attired as a Court leaster : wanton in discourse : lasciuious in behauiour : iocund in good companie : nice in his trenches, & yet he feedes verie hungerly on scraps of songs : . . . yet much about the yeare when monsieur came in, he was begotten, betweene a French Taylor, and an English Court Seamster '. 43. the other. Here, as also in 2. 3. 90, a pi. form; cf. Abbott, § 12. 44. grey heads and weake hammes. C^. As You Like It 2. 7. 157 fr. 47. I. The first pers. pron. is thus written by Jonson for ' aye '. Rom. and Jul. 3. 2. 45 : Jul. Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but 'I', And that bare vowel ' I ' shall poison more Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice: I am not I, if there be such an 1. 50. sleepe all the terme. Before the present Judicature Act of 1873 and 1875 there were four terms of court yearly, and hey sc. i] Notes 137 marked the time of greatest resort to, and business in, London : Hilary term, Jan. 11-31; Easter term, Apr. 15-May 8; Trinity, May 22-June 12] Michaelmas, Nov. 2-25. Nares : 'The law terms were formerly the great times of resort to London, not only for business, but pleasure. They were the harvest times of various dealers, particularly booksellers and authors.' Cf. Middle ton's play, Michaelmas Term.', Dekker, The Dead Tearme or Westmin- ster's Complaint for Long Vacations and Short Tearmes, Pr. Wks. 4. 24 ff. ; and Greene, A Peak of Villanies rung out, being Musicall to all Gentlemen, Lawyers, Farmers, and all sorts of People that come up to the Tearme. 51-2. O, Clerimont, this time. The sincerity which makes these words of True-wit's solemn and unsatiric, is found in but few of his speeches, as 4. 6. 61 and 5. 3. 4. 53. fineliest. Such a superlative Jonson forms again in ' eagerliest ', 2. 2. 10 1. 57. common disease. A 'failing' or 'fault' in common, as in I. I. 149. Cf. Poet. 2. I, p. 405: ''Tis the common disease of all your m.usicians, that they know no mean, to be entreated either to begin or end.' Bar. Fair 3. i, p. 417: 'But you are a modest undertaker, by circumstances and degrees; come, 'tis disease in thee, not judgment.' 2 Hen. IV i. 2. 136 : ' An't please you, it is the disease of not listening, the malady of not marking, that I am troubled, withal.' 62. Plutarchs moralls. The popularity of this ethical treatise is witnessed to in this play by frequent reference, e.g. 2. 3. 44, 4. 4. 92 : 'This work had been published in folio, in 1603, and is still regarded, like the other versions from the same industrious hands, as a precious treasury of genuine English. Plutarch's Morals, translated into English, by Philemon Holland, Doctor in Physike.' — C. 64. Talke me of pinnes, and feathers. Later editions have all inserted to before me, making the pron. an indir. obj. after talke. But it is a fair example of an old dative as it stands; cf. 3. 3. 65 and Abbott, § 220. Earle echoes True-wit's suggestion for con- versation in Micro-C. no. i^, A Gallant: 'Hee learnes the beast oathes . . . His other talke is Ladies and such pretty things, or some iest at a Play.' pins, as a purely feminine article, neces- sary and costly, are often mentioned in the old plays. Heywood, K 138 The Silent Woman [act i Four P. P., Haz.-Dods. i. 249 flf.; Downfall of Robert, Earl of Huntingdon (1598), Haz.-Dods. 8. 161. feathers were worn by men in their hats and caps, single or in plumes; by women in fans, coiffures, &c. Marston, Malcontent 5.2: 'No fool but has his feather; even so, no woman but has her weakness and feather too.' Cf. note 2. 2. 109. 70. colledge. Cf. Introd. Ixx for what is known of the institu- tion over which Lady Haughty presided. College is a word much abused by Jonson and his contemporaries. Dekker, Guh Horn-Booke, Pr. Wks. 2, Proemium : ' A fig therefore for the new-found Colledge of Criticks.' Ibid. Seven Deadly Sinnes, p. 52 : 'For as Letchery is patron of all your suburb Colledges, and sets up Vaulting-houses, and Dauncing-Schooles ... so Sloth is a founder of the Almes- houses.' Marston, Malcontent, Induction : ' I am no great cen- surer; and yet I might have been one of the college of critics.* D. A. 2. 3, pp. 67 if. pictures an academy for women in which they may learn matters of deep moment : Such rare receipts she has, sir, for the face, Such oils, such tinctures, such pomatums, Such perfumes, med'cines, quintessences, et caetera; And such a mistress of behaviour, She knows from the duke's daughter to the doxy, What is their due just, and no more. S. of News 4. I, p. 266, the founding of a canter's college is pro- posed. Epig. 131, vol. 8. 236: The meat-boat of bear's college, Paris-garden. 73. court. Probably Whitehall. 6". of News i. i, p. 165, Thomas names as the four cardinal quarters where news may be always found, ' The Court, sir, Paul's, Exchange, and Westminster- hall.' 80. masculine or hermaphroditicall authority. Dekker, Seven Deadly Sinnes, Pr. Wks. 2. 59, scores women for their manishness : ' For the same reason are women. Mens Shee Apes, for they will not bee behind them the bredth of a Taylor's yard (which is nothing to speake of) in anie new-fangled vpstart fashion.' Stubbes says even more harshly, Anat. of Al).,^). 68: ' Women also there haue dublettes and ierkins as men haue here, buttoned vp the breast, and made with wringes, welts, and pinions, on the shoulder points, as mannes apparel is, for all the world ; and though this be sc. i] Notes 139 a kind of attire appropriate only to a man, yet they blush not to wear it; ... Wherefore, these women may not improperly bee called hermaphroditi, that is monsters of both kinds, halfe women, halfe men.' Cf. note i. i. 5 in S. 0/ News, ed. Winter, p. 133. 88. painted and perfum'd. Jonson had an astounding knowledge of cosmetics. Women's use of them is one of his favorite subjects of satire. His heroines discuss cosmetics : Fulvia and Galla, Cat. 2, i; Livia and her physician Eudemus, Sej. 2. i; Wittipol in disguise and the ladies of the academy, D. A. 4. i, &c. Shakespeare noticed this failing of his country-women, e.g. L.L.L. 4. 3. 259 : ' painting and usurping hair ' ; Sonnet 68. 2 if. : 'Before the bastard signs of fair were born,' and Mer, of Ven. 3. 2. 73 ff. Dekker, The Biuels last Will and Testament, Pr. Wks. 3, makes his hero 'the founder and Vpholder of Paintings, Davbings, Plaisterings, Pargettings, Purflings, Cerusings, Cementing, Wrinkle- fillings, and Blotchings vp of old, decayed, and weather-beaten Faces '. A7iat. of Ab. 64 fF, : ' The women of Ailgna vse to colour their faces with certain oyles, liquors, vngents, and waters made to that end, whereby they think their beautie is greatly decored.' The Elizabethans' love of perfume was barbaric, and not altogether unrelated to the fact that their manner of living was unsanitary, and indoor air always more or less tainted. Drake, Sh. and his Times, p. 395 : ' Perfumed bracelets, necklaces, and gloves were favorite articles. " Gloves as sweet as damask roses ", form part of the stock of Autolycus, and Mopsa tells the Clown that he promised her " a pair of sweet gloves". The queen in this, as in most other luxuries of dress, set the fashion; for Howes informs us that, in the fifteenth year of her reign, Edward Vere, Earl of Oxford, presented her with a pair of perfumed gloves trimmed with four tufts of rose-coloured silk, in which she took such pleasure that she was always painted with those gloves on her hands, that their scent was so exquisite that it was ever after called the Earl of Oxford's perfume.' Stubbes enumerates perfume as one of the Abuses, p. 76: 'Is not this a certen sweete Pride to haue cynet, muske, sweet powders, fragrant Pomanders, odorous perfumes, & such like, wherof the smel may be felt and perceiued, not only ouer the house, or place, where they be present, but also a stones cast of almost, yea, the K 'i 140 The Silent Woman [act i bed wherein they haue layed their delicate bodies, the place where they haue sate, the clothes, and thinges which they haue touched, shall smel a weeke, a moneth, and more, after they be gon. But the Prophet Esais telleth them, instead of their Pomanders, musks, ciuits, balmes, sweet odours and perfumes, they shall haue stench and horrour in nethermost hel.' 92. Song. 'The musical ability of choristers, accustomed to sing antiiems and madrigals, encouraged the poets to introduce those lyrics into plays which form so effective an element in their scenes,' Symonds, Predecessors 0/ Sh., p. 241. And so one of the Queen's Revels' Boys sang this song, a charming example of Jonson's lyrical ability. Its source is given Introd. p. Iv. Herrick imitated the verses. Flecknoe's Address to the Duchess of Richmond runs : Poor beauties ! whom a look, a glance May sometimes make seem fair by chance. Or curious dress, or artful care, Cause to look fairer than they are 1 Give me the eyes, give me the face; To whom no art can add a grace ; And me the looks, no garb nor dress, Can ever make more fair, or less. — G. 102. adulteries. N. E. D. cites another example of this un- usual significance. Lady's Calling (1673), 2. 3, § 20. 93 : ' Nor must she think to cure this by any the little adulteries of art.' 123. Aldgate. Originally Alegate, 'a gate open to all', or 'free gate', the east gate of old London wall, situated near the junction of Leadenhall Street, Houndsditch, Whitehall, and the Minories. The older gate which Stow describes (i. 15 ff.) was taken down in 1606, and the new one built to which Jonson refers. Two Roman soldiers stood on the outer battlements, with stone balls in their hands, ready to defend the gate : beneath, in a square, was a statue of James I, and at his feet the royal supporters. On the city side stood a large figure of fortune, and somewhat lower, so as to grace each side of the gate, gilded statues of Peace and Charity, copied from the reverses of two Roman coins, discovered while digging the new foundation to the gate. The inscription read, ' Senatus Populusque Londinensis | Fecit 1609 | Humphrey Weld Maior'j. It is worthy of remembrance that over the old sc. i] Notes 141 gate, torn down in 1606, was the dwelling Chaucer had leased in 1374, 'the whole of the dwelling-house above the gate of Algate with the rooms built over, and a certain cellar beneath the same gate, on the South side of that gate, and the appurtenances thereof. 124. the cities Loue, and Charitie. These statues are de- scribed carefully by Stow, i. 16 : ' To grace each side of the gate, are set two feminine personages, the one southward appearing to be Peace, with a silver dove upon dne hand, and a gilded wreath or garland in the other. On the north side standeth Charity, with a child at her breast, and another led in her hand : implying (as I conceive) that where Peace and love, or Charity, do prosper, and are truly embraced, that city shall be for ever blessed.' Baedeker, London and its Environs : ' The " City's Love and Charity " were still standing in 1760, but the next year the gate was pulled down.' 126. seruant, meaning 'lover', is found times innumerable in the old dramatists. Every Man Out 3. 3, p. 1 18 : Brisk. A second good-morrow to my fair mistress. Saviolina. Fair servant, I'll thank you a day hence. Cat. 2. I, p. 222 : Sem. When was Quintus Curius, thy special servant, here ? FuLTiA. My special servant ! Sem. Yes, thy idolater, I call him. Case is Altered 2. 3, p. 334 : Aug. Come, I will not sue stalely to be your servant, But a new term, will you be my refuge? Two G. of V. 2. \. 100 : Val. Madame and Mistress, a thousand good-morrows . . . SiL. Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand. 136. in complement. Drake, Sh. and his Times, p. 422, defines compliment as ' A species of simulation which was carried to an extraordinary height in the days of our poet'. Marston says of a gallant in Scourge of Villanie (1599), bk. 2, sat. 7 : Mark nothing but his clothes, His new stampt complement; his common oathes, Mark those. Dekker, Gtils Horn-Booke : ' You courtiers that do nothing but sing the gamut A-Re of comphmental courtesy.' King fohn i. i. 189: 142 The Silent Woman [act i Bastard. Now your traveller, He and his toothpick at my worship's mess, And when my knightly stomach is sufficed, Why then I suck my teeth and catechize My picked man of countries : ' My dear sir,' Thus, leaning on mine elbow, I begin, ' I shall beseech you ' — that is question now ; And then comes answer like an Absey book: ' O sir ', says answer, ' at your best command ; At your employment ; at your service, sir ' ; ' No, sir ', says question, ' I, sweet sir, at yours ' : And so, ere answer knows what question would, Saving in dialogue of compliment, . . . It draws toward supper in conclusion so. Jonson makes this ' sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth ' an object of satire in Mrs. Otter, La-Foole, Daw, and the 'ladies- collegiates '. 146. night-caps. According to Planch^, 'Night caps are first mentioned in the times of the Tudors. They M^ere worn in the daytime by elderly men and invalids. They are frequent in portraits of the seventeenth century, some of velvet or silk, occasionally richly embroidered and edged with lace.' Candido says in Dekker's i Honest Whore 3. i : Fetch me a night-cap : for I'll gird it close. As if my health were queesy. 150. Fish-wiues, and Orenge-women. In developing the idea of Morose's sensitiveness to noise, Jonson mentions the chief occupations connected with London streets, no small number, since the great body of London retailers were itinerant. Only those who had been highly successful attained to the dignity of keeping a stall, and in them the loudest voice brought the most custom. The narrow streets were full of men, not hurrying to and fro, but occupied at some trade in the open air. Addison writes. Spectator 251 : ' There is nothing which more astonishes a foreigner, and frights a country squire, than the cries of London. My good friend Sir Roger often declares that he cannot get them out of his head, or go to sleep for them, the first week that he is in town. On the contrary Will Honeycomb calls them Ramage de la Vtlle, and prefers them to the sounds of larks and nightingales, with the musick of the fields and woods.' Samuel Johnson, sc. i] Notes 143 Adventurer : ' The attention of a new-comer is generally first struck by the multiplicity of cries that stun him in the streets.' Cf. A. W. Tuer, Old London Street Cries, and Charles Hindley, A History of the Cries of London. Hindley gives some of the fish- sellers' cries, p. 20 : ' New mackerel ; new Wall-Fleet Oysters ; New Flounders ; New Whiting ; New Salmon ; Buy Great Smelts ; Buy Great Plaice ; Buy Great Mussels ; Buy Great Eels ; New Cod, new; . . . Quicke perawinkells, quick, quick.' On p. 8i he quotes from Turner's DisJi of Stuff or a Gallymaifery : The fish-wife first begins Anye muscles lilly white? Herrings, sprats, or place. Or cockles for delight, Anye welflet oysters ? Then she doth change her note: She had need to have her tongue be greas'd For the rattle in her throat. Donald Lupton, Lofidon and the Country Carbonadoed and Quar- tred into Seuerall Characters (1632): 'These crying, wandering, and trauelling creatures carry their shops on their heads, and their storehouse is ordinarily Byllyngsgate or ye Brydge-foot ; and their habitation Turnagain Lane. . . . Fiue shillings, a basket, and a good cry, are a large stock for them.' The stock-in-trade of the orange- women was a favorite fruit at this time. Sir Walter Raleigh is given credit for being the first importer. They called attention to their wares with * Fair lemons and oranges, oranges and citrons 1 ' or according to no. 3 of a British Museum print illustrating with woodcuts twelve street cries : Fine Sevil oranges, fine lemmons, fine; Round, sound, and tender, inside and rine, One pin's prick their vertue show: They're liquor by their weight, you may know. 152. Chimney-sweepers. Before daybreak these poor fellows were canvassing for custom; they were hired men or apprentices, under a master or employer. Deuteromalia : or, the Second Part of pleasant Roundelay es (1609): The chimney-sweeper all the long day, He singeth and sweepeth the soote away ; Yet when he comes home altho' he be weary, With his sweet wife he maketh full merry, Soot — sweep — O ! 144 The Silent Woman [act i 154. Broome-men. A cry of these pedlars is given in Three Ladies of London (1584), Haz.-Dods., vol. 6 : New broomes, green broomes, will you buy any ? Come maydens, come quickly, let me take a penny. British Museum Print, no. 9 : Come buy some broomes, come buy of me : Birch, heath, and green none better be ; The staves are straight, and all bound sure ; Come, maids, my broomes will still endure. Old boots or shoes I'll take for broomes, Come buy to make clean all your rooms ! We find a briefer cry, ' Old shooes for some Broomes, Broomes, Broomes ! ' 155. Costard-monger. This tradesman, originally an itinerant apple-seller, had a widespread reputation for noisiness : He'll rail like a rude coster monger That school boys had cozened of his apples, As loud and senseless. When a seller of apples, his cry was, * Pippins, fresh pippins ! ' In Bar. Fair 2. i, p. 385, he calls, 'Buy any pears, pears, fine, very fine pears ? ' and in Turner's Dish 0/ Stuff: Ripe, cherry ripe ! The coster-monger cries ; Pippins fine or pears! Another after hies. With basket on his head His living to advance, And in his purse a pair of dice For to play at mumchance. 157. Me thinkes. This expression, which is found also 3. 6. 39 and 4. i. 32, is a survival of a weak verb in OE. There were two verbs allied in form and meaning : p§ncan, pohte, ' think ' ; pyncan, piihte, ' seem ', which was impersonal, me pyncp, ' it seems to me', having much the same meaning as ic p§nce. Me thinkes is from the impers. verb. 157 fi". a Smith ... or any Hamer-man ... a Brasier. . . an Armourer . . . Pewterer. Jonson includes these men as provokers of Morose's peace, not so much because of their street cries, but because of the intrinsic noisiness of their trades, making or mending weapons, kettles, &c., which filled the streets with sc. i] Notes 145 metallic din. A hammer-man may signify the hooper of barrels, the shoer of horses, or the artificer in metals. ^The kettle- mender was a very vociferous fellow, crying, 'A brass pot or an iron pot to mend ! ' The armorer, who was generally foreign, was less of an itinerant than the others, and had his shop in the Old Exchange. Cooking and table-utensils were made of pewter, and the noise of the trade is recorded as early as Lydgate in London Lyckpenny : ' Pewter pots they clattered on a heap.' 159. parish. Dekker describes the parish of this time. The Dead Tear me, Pr. Wks. 4. 75 : ' According therefore to the Romane custome of Citties, was I diuided into Signories, all of them notwithstanding, like so many streames to one Head, acknowledging a priority and subiection, to One Greater than the rest, and who sitteth aboue them, those Diuisions or Parlages are called Wardes, or Aldermanries, being 26 in number ; for by 24 Aldermen: in whom is represented the dignity of Romaine Senafours, and Two Sheriffes, who personate (in theyr Offices and places) the Romane Consuls. Then is there a Subdiuision ', for these Cantles are againe cut into lesse, being called Parishes, which are in number 109 ; which are vnto me like so many little Citties within themselues : so beautifyed they are with buildings, so furnished with manuall Trades, so peopled with wealthy Cittizens, and so pollitikely, wisely and peacebly gouerned.' 160. shroue-tuesdaies riot. One of the chief events of this festival day was, in the words of Lanthorn Leatherhead, Bar. Fair 5. I, p. 473 : ' the rising of the prentices, and pulling down the bawdy houses.' Earle, Micro-C, A Player, no. 21: ' Shroue- Tuesdey hee feares as much as the baudes, and Lent is more damage to him then the Butcher.' Dekker, Seven Deadly Sinnes, Pr. Wks. 2 : ' They presently, like prentices vpon Shroue-tuesday, take the law into their hands, and do what they list.' For other amusements, cf. Brand, Pop. Antiq. i. 63 ff., and cf. John Taylor (folio 1630), p. 115: 'In the morning all the whole kingdom is unquiet, but by that time the clocke strikes eleven, which (by the help of a knavish sexton) is commonly before nine, then there is a bell rung, cal'd pancake-bell, the sound whereof makes thousands of people distracted, and forgetful either of manners or humanitie.' 161. when the rest were quit. Whalley thinks 'quit' is 146 The Silent Woman [act i ' discharged from work '. Coleridge's interpretation is better ' The pewterer was at his holiday diversion as well as the other apprentices, and they as forward in the riot as he. But he alone was punished under pretext of the riot but in fact for his trade.' — Notes on Benjonson, ed. Bohn, p. 415. For ' quit ' in the obsolete sense of 'acquit' cf. Abbott, § 342, and Gammer Gurtons Needle, ed. Manly, 5. 2. 262 : Bayly. 'Ye shall go quite/ &c. 162 ff. Trumpet . . . Hau'-boyes, . . . Waights. Whether Jonson means here the instruments or the musicians is not quite clear. Cf. Mer. of Ven. 2. 5. 30 : ' The vile squealing of the wry- neck'd fife.' A trumpet was carried by the vender of hobby-horses, who blew upon it intermittently and cried, ' Troop, every one, one ' ; there were bands of street musicians called trumpeters. Dekker, The Kings Entertainment, Dram. Wks. i. 280: 'The Wayts and Hault-boyes of London made the music for the banquet,' Waits were originally night-watchmen who announced with a horn that they were on watch, but in the seventeenth century regular bands of musicians bore the name, and it is still preserved in England as applied to persons who sing at Christmas from house to house. Rymer, quoted in Chambers's Book of Days, says : ' A wayte, that nightelye from mychelmas to Shreue Thorsdaye pipeth the watche within this courte fower tymes . . . Also this yeoman waight, at the makinge of knyghtes of the Bath, for his attendance vpon them by nyght-time, in watchinge in the chappelle, hath he to his fee all the watchinge clothing that the knyght shall wear vpon him ' (vol. 2. 743). Tale of a Tub 3. 3, p. 176 : Pan. Dick Toter! He was one o' the waights o' the city, I have read o' 'un; He was a fellow would be drunk, debauch'd . . . His name was Vadian, and a cunning toter. Cf. also Shirley, Witty Fair Oiie 4. 2, and Tatler 222. There are also some items of interest in Notes and Queries, loth S. 2, Dec. 24, 1904. 166. Bell-man. This night-watchman had been given his distinctive instrument in the reign of Mary, and he remained a public nuisance until the time of Cromwell. Stow says there was one in each ward. Hindley, p. 34, quotes from the British Museum Print, no, 2, and Tuer, Old London Street Cries, p. 20 : sc. i] Notes 147 Mayds in your Smocks, Loocke Wei to your locke Your fire And your light, & God Give you, good-night. One o'clock. Dekker, Bel-man 0/ London, Pr. Wks. 3. 113 : 'The sound of his Voice at the first put me in mind of the day of ludgement ; Men (me thought) starting out of their sleepes, at the Ringing of his bell, as then they are to rise from their graues at the sound of a trumpet. ... I approached neare vnto him, and beheld a man with a lanthorne and canale in his hand, a long staffe on his necke, and a dog at his tayle. ... I began to talke to my Bel-man, and to aske him, why with such a langling, and balling, and beating at Mens doores hee went about to waken either poore men that were ouerwearyed with labour, or sick men that had most neede of rest ? ' The mayor, Sir Henry Barton, had made a law, which remained in force three centuries, that at night between All Hallows and Candlemas each house had to have a ' lanthorne and a whole candell light '. Watchmen whose particular business was to see that this rule was obeyed, according to the British Museum Print, no. I, admonished the public thus : A light here, maids, hang out your light. And see your horns be clear and bright. That so your candle clear may shine. Continuing from six till nine; That honest men that walk along. May see to pass safe without wrong. 172. common noises. Dekker gives a vivid account of these in Seven Deadly Sinnes, Pr. Wks. 2. 50 : ' In euery street, carts and coaches make such a thundring as if the world ranne vpon wheeles . . . Hammers are beating, in one place, Tubs hooping in another. Pots clinking in a third, water-tankards running at tilt in a fourth : heere are Porters sweating vnder burdens, there merchants-men bearing bags of money,' &c. 178. cryed his games. The bear- ward was accustomed to advertise his sport noisily. Cf. Humorous Lovers (16 17): 'I'll set up my bills, that the gamesters of London, Horsleydown, Southwark, and Newmarket, may come in and bait him here 148 The Silent Woman [act i before the ladies ; but first, boy, go fetch me a bagpipe ; we will walk the streets in triumph, and give the people notice of our sport.' 180, bleeding: adj. 'bloody'. I find the same construction of the superl. thus formed from the pres. part, in Jeronimo, Haz.- Dods. 4. 354 : 'A most weeping creature.' 181. prize. Pepys describes a prize or contest in his Diary, June I, 1663: 'The New Theatre . . . since the king's players gone to the Royal one, is this day begun to be employed by the fencers to play prizes at. And here I came and saw the first prize I ever saw in my life : and it was between one Mathews, who did beat at all weapons, and one Westwicke, who was soundly cut several times . . . They fought at eight weapons, three boutes at each weapon.' Cf. also May 27, 1667. Strutt, Sports and Past. 209 ff,, gives an account of the barbarousness of the prizes fought by fencers, and of the long apprenticeship necessary to become masters of the science of defence, or fencing. 184. for the bells. Besant, LottdoJi, pp. 105 fi"., has de- scribed the city with its never quiet bells as Rabelais' Vile Sonnante. There were eighty-nine churches burnt in 1666 ; fifty- one were rebuilt. The word_/i?r as here used is noticed by Abbott, § 149- 185. i'the Queenes time. Elizabeth's death in 1603 made a change from the strict attendance at church service. Jonson here points to the fact that his contemporaries were growing careless in matters of religious observance. 187. perpetuitie of ringing. The year before Epiccene ap- peared we find this allusion in Volp. 3. 2, p. 237 : VoLP. Oh, Rid me of this my torture, quickly, there; My madam, with the everlasting voice : The bells, in time of pestilence, ne'er made Like noise, or were in that perpetual motion. Dekker, Wonder/tdl Feare, Pr. Wh. i. 105: 'And to make this dismall comfort more full, round about him Bells heauily tolling in one place, and ringing out in another.' Rod for Run-awayes (1625), Pr. Wks. 4, scathes the people who left London in terror of the plague, but the author knows ' they perceiue the Bels of London toll 40 miles oif in their eares '. sc. i] Notes 149 192. tennis-court. The prevalence of tennis in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries is attested in many places. Stow, Survey 6. 6: 'Divers fair tennis-courts, bowling-alleys, and a cockpit, were added to Whitehall by Henry VIII.' Strutt, Sporls and Past., pp. 92 ff,, gives its history. Perhaps the most famous literary reference to tennis is that in Henry V i. 2. 256. James I said tennis was an ' exercise becoming a prince ', and Pepys re- cords, Dec. 2, 1663, that Charles II 'beat three and lost two sets, they all, and he particularly playing well '. 194. trunke. ' There are a people, says Montaigne, where no one speaks to the king, except his wife and children, but through a trunk.' — G. Jonson makes Dol use one in the Alchem., but the same word in News from the New World, vol. 7. 338, means * telescope '. Act I. Scene II. 6. masters. Coke defines ' a gentleman to be one qui arma gerit, who bears coat armor, the grant of which adds gentility to a man's family' (Blackstone, Comm. bk. i, § 405). *As for gentlemen, says Sir Thomas Smith, they may be made good cheap in this kingdom : for whoever studieth the laws of the realm, who studieth in the universities, who professeth the liberal sciences, and to be short, who can live idly, and without manual labor and will bear the port, charge, and countenance of a gentle- man, he shall be called Master, and shall be taken for a gentleman ' (§ 406). Cf. W. and their Ways, p. 324, and the quibbling over the word between Launcelot and his father, Mer. of Ven. 2.2. 9-10. ridiculous acts, and moniments. Morose is not Jon- son's first comic martyr; in Every Man Out 3. 2, p. 114, one of the rustics who saves Sordido says : ' I'll get our clerk put his conversion in the Acts and Monuments.' Jonson, at this time a Catholic, may have taken a little justified pleasure in indulging in jests at the expense of Fox, so popular an opponent of his faith. This book was the butt of much joking, for Stubbes writes, Anat. of Ab., p. 185 : ' This maketh the Bible, the blessed Book of God, to be so litde esteemed ; that woorthie Booke of Martyrs, made by that famous Father & excellent Instrument in God his Church, Maister John Fox, so little to be accepted.' Cf. Mayne, City Match 2. I. 150 The Silent Woman [act i 11. S'lid. Mimic oaths were highly fashionable when Epiccene was written. Doubtless the reprehensible habit of Elizabeth influenced her people ; as Drake says, her oaths were ' neither diminutive nor rare; she never spared them in public or private conversation, when she thought they added energy to either'. Epiccene offends in the matter of oaths much less than many plays, though comic characters marked by the ambition to be original in oaths are not wanting — witness Daw and La-Foole. The nobility were chiefly satirized for this fault; Dekker, The Dead Tearme, Pr. Wks. 4. 14, has Westminster grieve because she is ' haunted with some that are called knights only for their swearing '. Anai. of Ab. p. 132 : ' We take in vain abuse, and blaspheme, the sacred name of God in our ordinarie talke, for euery light trifle ... By continuall vse whereof, it is growne to this perfection, that at euery other worde, you shal heare either woundes, bloud, sides, harte, nailes, foot, or some other part of Christes blessed bodie, yea, sometymes no part thereof shalbe left vntorne of these bloudie Villanies, and to sweare by God at euery worde, by the World, by S. lohn, by S. Marie, S. Anne, by Bread and Salte, by the Fire, or by any other Creature, thei thinke it nothynge blame worthie.' Chaucer com- plained long before, Pardoner's Tale 12: ' Oure blisful Lordis body they to-tere.' 12. that purpose. Morose's purpose to disinherit his nephew. 14. false almanack. There were enough errors in the prog- nostications of the average almanacs to warrant Hall's Satire on Ahnanac Makers, bk. 2. 2. The title-page of an almanac for 1575, by Leonard Digges, reads: 'A Prognostication euerlastinge of right good effect, fruictfully augmented by the auctor contayn- ing plain, briefe, pleasante, chosen rules to iudge the Weather by the Sunne, Moone, Starres, Comets, Rainbow, Thunder, Cloudes, with other extraordinarye tokens, not omitting the Aspects of the Planets, with a briefe iudgement for euer, of Plenty, Lucke, Sickenes, Dearth, Warres, &c., opening also many natural causes to be knowen.' 15. coronation day to the tower- wharfe. There was noise enough on such a gala-day to deafen a less sensitive ear than that of Morose; there was noise on street and river, of trumpet, drum, fife, ordnance, fireworks, bells. Three Lords and Three Ladies of Loiidon (1590), Haz.-Dods., vol. 6: sc. ii] Notes 151 Let nothing that's magnifical Or that may tend to London's graceful state, Be unperform'd, as showes and solemne feastes, Watches in armour, triumphs, cresset, lights, Bon-fires, bells, and peales of ordinance And pleasure. See that plaies be published, Mai-games and maskes, with mirth and minstrelsie. Pageants and school-feasts, beares, and puppet-plaies. Ordnance was kept at the Tower from early times. Cf. Survey I. 96: 'This tower is a citadel to defend or command the city; a royal palace for assemblies and treaties; a prison of estate for the most dangerous offences; the only place of coinage for all England at this time; the armoury for warlike provisions; the treasury of the ornaments and jewels of the crown ; and general conserver of the most records of the king's courts of justice at Westminster.' Ordish, Sh. London, writes, p. 44 : ' Norden's map shows several pieces of large ordnance outside the Tower walls in East Smithfield.' Paul Hentzner, writing of his visit to the Tower about 1597, says : ' On the bank of the Thames close by are a great many cannon, such chiefly as are used at sea.' Pepys describes the Tower and wharf as they were on Nov. 5, 1664. I Hen. VI I. I. 167 : Glou. I'll to the Tower with all the haste I can, To view the artillery and munition. 20. more portent. * More ' is here used as the comp. adj. ' greater '. Mr. Skeat thinks ?no (OE. md) is the comp. of ' many' in regard to number, as more (OE. mare) is comp. of ' much ' in regard to size. Cf. Abbott, § 1 7, 3. 7. 19, and ' the more reputation ' ; also Poe^. Ap. Dial. *a more crown'. King John 2. i. 34: 'a more requital'; Meas. for Meas. i. 3. 49: 'At our more leisure '. Heywood, Edward IV i. 40 (ed. Pearson), ' Much queene, I trow'. Cat. 4. I, p. 274: 'A more regard.' 27. god. In the 1616 folio Cc?^ and Zor^ are printed ^o/■ 34. do's giue playes. Abbott, §§303-5, treats of the unemphatic use of do in affirmative sentences. Its use is frequent in Epiccene — 'do bear ', i. 4. 40; 'do run away', 2, 2. 61 ; 'do utter', 2. 3. 50; 'do's refuse', 2. 4. 129; 'do's triumph', 2. 4. 13; 'do expect it', 3. I. 13 ; *d3 dream', 3. 2. 67 ; 'do take advise', 3. 2. 82. 36. coaches. In Bar. Fair 4. 3, p. 466, Knockem is candid in his views about the use of coaches, elegantly affirming that ' they are as common as wheelbarrows where there are great dunghills '. Jonson constantly satirizes the popularity of coaches among would-be social lights ; indeed, they are decried by all the pamphleteers of the day. In regard to the history of this vehicle, Drake, p. 415, quotes from the Works of Taylor (1630), p. 240: 'In the year 1564, one William Boonen, a Dutchman, brought first the use of coaches hether, and the said Boonen was Queene EHzabeth's coachman : for indeed a coach was a strange monster in those days, and the sight of it put both horse and man into amazement: some said it was a great crab-shell brought out of China, and some imagined it to be one of the Pagan Temples, in which the cannibals adored the divell ; but at last those doubts sc. Ill] Notes 155 were cleared, and coach-making became a substantial trade.' Gosson has a rhymed arraignment in Pleasant Quippes for Vpstari Newfangled Gentlewomen (Hazlitt, 1866), p. 258. Strand. What is now a chief thoroughfare of London running east and west from Fleet Street to Charing Cross was a wretched street before 1532. It was paved in that year ; by another half-century it had become one of the most fashionable parts of the town. Father Hublurds Tales in Middleton's Works (ed. Bullen) 8. 77: * The lawyer embraced our young gentleman and gave him many riotous instructions how to carry himself: told him he must acquaint himself with the gallants of the Inns of Court, ... his lodging must be about the Strand/ &c. 38. China houses. These were places for exhibiting oriental goods which intercourse with China and Japan had lately brought to London. The wares, generally shown at first in private houses, were a matter of universal curiosity ; the resorts became notorious, and the word ' China-house ' came to signify a house of ill fame, a meaning which it kept until the eighteenth century. C. says they gradually changed their designation to that of India-shop, and that here were to be found teas, toys, ivories, shawls, India screens, cabinets, and various oriental cloths. From Dalrymples Memoirs, Appendix, vol. 2. 80, he draws the information that 'Motteux, the translator of Don Quixote, kept a famous one (India-shop) in Leadenhall Street, and Siam's in St. James' Street, was still better known. A very curious scene took place between King William and his wife on the occasion of her visiting some of these places,' Exchange. Of the New Exchange in the Strand, Wh.-C. says : ' A kind of Bazaar of the south side of the Strand, was so called in contradistinction to the Royal Exchange ; by James I it was named Britain's Burse. It was built on the site of the stables of Durham House, directly facing what is now Bedford Street, its frontage extending from George Court to Durham Street. . • . The first stone was laid June 10, 1608; . . . the building was opened Apr. 11, 1609 ... in the presence of James I and his queen. ... It was long before the New Exchange attained to any great degree of favour or trade. London was not then large enough for more than one structure of the kind.' Wh.-C. thinks that not until the Restoration did the Exchange in the Strand supplant the old one in the City, which was 'founded by Sir 156 The Silent Woman [act i Thomas Gresham; the first stone was laid June 1566, and the building opened by Queen Elizabeth in person, Jan. 23, 1570-1.' The description of the shops, according to Howes, ed. 1631, p, 169, applies to either of the Exchanges: 'AH the shops were well furnished according to that time ; for then milliners or haberdashers in that place sold mouse-traps, bird-cages, shoeing- horns, lanthorns, and Jews' trumps, &c. There were also at that time that kept shops in the upper pawn of the Royal Exchange armourers that sold both old and new armour, apothecaries, booksellers, goldsmiths, and glass-sellers, although now (1631) it is as plenteously stored with all kinds of rich wares and fine commodities as any particular place in Europe, into which place many foreign princes daily send to be served of the best sort.' Dekker (1607) says of it: 'At euery turn a man is put in mind of Babel there is such a confusion of languages.' There is a History of Three Royal Exchanges by J. G. White, London, 1896. Act I. Scene II 1 1. 2. honested. This word is used as a verb by Sir Henry Wotton, and in the same sense of ' conferring honor on'. Also by Roger Ascham : ' Surely you should please God, benefit your country, and honest your own name.' — C. 16. terrible boyes. N.E.D. under Boy 6, has: 'Riotous fellows of the time of Elizabeth and James 1? Nares, quoting from Wilson's Life of fames I \ 'A set of young bucks who delighted to commit outrages and get into quarrels, divers sects of vicious persons, going under the title of roaring boys, bravadoes, roysters, &c., commit many insolencies : the streets swarm, night and day, with bloody quarrels, private duels fomented, &c.' The same sort of disorderly fellows were called Mohawks in the eighteenth century,- they are described in the Spectator, and in The Mohawks, a novel by M. E. Braddon. 22. what 's he. What is often used in the sense of ' of what kind or quality', where we should use who. Cf. Abbott, § 254 ; Epiccene 2. 3. 84 : ' What was that Syntagma, sir ? ' ' What is he ? ' 2. 6. 51 ; also He7i. V 4. 3. 18, 2 Hen. IV 1. 2. 66. 25. animal amphibium. Jonson indulges in this joke again, S. of News 2. I, p. 204 : sc. nil] Notes 157 Mad. I did ask him if he were Amphibion Broker. Shun. Why? Mad. a creature of two natures Because he had two offices. Cf. note jw/ra, p. 193, under 'Epiccene'; i Zr^«./F3. 3. 139(1597): Host. Say, what beast, thou knave, thou ? Fal. What beast ! why, an otter. Prince. An otter. Sir John ! why an otter ? Fal. Why, she 's neither, fish nor flesh ; a man knows not where to have her. Selden, Table Talk, p. 69, echoes the same thing: 'The Priour of St. John of Jerusalem . . . was a kind of an Otter, a knight half- spiritual, and half-temporal.' 40-1. our coate Yellow. This motley coat of arms is a re- miniscence of the garb worn by household fools in the days when they were part of aristocratic families. They were still to be seen in James's time, though they disappeared in the next generation. The coat of arms assigned to Sogliardo in Every Man Out 3. i, p. 91, resembles La-Foole's. 44-5. antiquitie is not respected now. James I was subjected to unlimited criticism for the new aristocracy that filled his court, especially in regard to the lately knighted Scotch gentlemen. A slur cast upon them in Eastward Ho, a play written chiefly by Marston and Chapman, caused these two dramatists, together with Jonson, temporary imprisonment. Cf. Giff"ord's Memoir, Jonson's Works i. 71. 45 fi". a brace of fat Does . . . phesants . . . godwits. Sir Epicure Mammon does not disdain to enumerate these among the delicacies, Alchem. 2. i, p. 55 : ' My foot-boy shall eat pheasants, calvered salmons, knots, godwits, lampreys.' Jonson, Epig. loi, Inviting a Friend to Supper, vol. 8. 204 : I'll tell you of more, and lie, so you will come : Of partridge, pheasant, woodcock, of which some May yet be there; and godwit if we can. Gervase Markham, English House-Wife, pp. loo-i (1683), describes as follows a humble feast ' for the entertainment of his true and worthy friend '. There should be, he advised, ' sixteen full dishes, that is, dishes of meat that are of substance, and not empty, or for shew — as thus, for example ; first, a shield of brawn with mustard ; 158 The Silent Woman [act i secondly, a boy'Id capon ; thirdly, a boy' Id piece of beef; fourthly, a chine of beef rosted ; fifthly, a neat's tongue rosted ; sixthly, a pig rosted; seventhly, chewets bak'd; eighthly, a goose rosted* ninthly, a swan rosted ; tenthly, a turkey rosted ; the eleventh, a haunch of venison rosted ; the twelfth, a pasty of venison ; the thirteenth, a kid with a pudding in the belly ; the fourteenth, an olive pye ; the fifteenth, a couple of capons ; the sixteenth, a custard or dowsets. Now to these full dishes may be added sallet fricases, quelque choses, and devised paste, as many dishes more which make the full service no less than two and thirty dishes, which is as much as can conveniently stand on one table, and in one mess ; and after this manner you may proportion both your second and third course, holding fulness on one half of the dishes, and shew in the other, which will be both frugal in the splendor, contentment to the guest ; and much pleasure and delight to the beholder.' 58. gentleman- vsher. A gentleman-usher was originally an officer of the court, but private persons made his employment a fashion, and the office degenerated into that of an upper unliveried servant, whose chief duty was to wait upon the ladies. Some of the characteristics naturally acquired by these men are excellent subjects for satire : e. g. Broker in S. 0/ News, and Ambler m D. A. 58-9. knighted in Ireland. This is perhaps glancing again at the 'Plantation in Ulster' by English landlords in 1605. 60. gold ierkin. La-Foole's gold-embroidered jerkin was probably his doublet, as Fairholt's assertion that the garments were identical seems borne out by such allusions as the following; Rowland, Knave of Hearts : Because we walk in jerkins Without an upper garment, cloak. We must be tapsters running up and down. Two G. 0/ V. 2. 4. 18 : Thurio. And how quote you my folly.? Val. I quote it in your jerkin. Thurio. My jerkin is a doublet. Appended to the lines from Two G. of V. Knight has this note : ' The jerkin, or jacket, was generally worn over the doublet ; but occasionally the doublet was worn alone, and in many instances is confounded with the jerkin. Either had sleeves or not, as the sc. iiii] Notes 159 wearer pleased.' The extravagance of these garments is often a subject of satire. Chatillon in King John 2. i. 69 describes the English youth as men who : Have sold their fortunes at their native homes, Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs. 61. Hand-voyage or at Caliz. Sir Francis Drake, as admiral of twenty-one ships, sailed to the West Indies in 1585, took St. Jago, St. Augustine, Cartagena, and St. Domingo. Upon Hispaniola's (St. Domingo's) largest town, St. Domingo, he levied a tribute of 25,000 ducats. It was on his return voyage that he carried home from Roanoke Island the discouraged settlers sent out by Raleigh to found the first English colony in America. Lord Admiral Howard sailed with a fleet of 150 vessels against Cadiz, and the Earl of Essex commanded the land forces. On June 21 the Spanish ships defending the town were entirely defeated. Essex was the first to leap on shore, and the English troops took the city. Motley, Hisi. of the United Netherlands, vol. 3, ch. 32 : 'The king's navy was crippled, a great city was destroyed, and some millions of plunder had been obtained. But the permanent possession of Cadiz, which, in such case, Essex hoped to exchange for Calais, . . . would have been more profitable to England.' That the gallant adventurers in such expeditions as these were extravagantly dressed, and were in search of gold as well as honor, historical accounts of the voyages prove — e.g. Hakluyt; Purchas, Pilgrims; Fox Bourne, British Seamen under the Tudors. Concerning Jonson's spelling Caliz, it is significant to find that Dekker spells it so throughout The Rauens Almanacke, Pr. Wks. 4. Cf. Introd. p. xvi. 64. tooke their money. Contemporary satirists complained in like manner of land-owners who considered that the only item in their list of relations with tenants. Brathwait, English Gentleman (ed. 1633), p. 332: ' How blame-worthy then are these Court-comtis, whose onely delight is to admire themselves . . . Whither are these great ones gone } To the Court ; there to spend in boundlesse and immoderate riot, what their providant ancestors had so long preserved, and at whose doores so many needy soules have beene comfortably releeved.' Stubbes, Anat. of Ab., p. 116: ' Land lords make merchandise of their pore tenants, racking their rents, raising i6o The Silent Woman [act i, sc. iiii their fines & incommes, & setting them so straitely vpon the tenter hookes, as no man can lyve on them,' &c. 65. eye o' the land. London is called by this epithet in Dekker's Kings Entertainment through the City of London, Dram. Works i : / am the places Genius thence now springs A Vine, whose yongest Braunch shall produce Kings : This little world of men ; this precious Stone That sets out Europe ; this {the glasse alone^ Where the neate Sunne each morne himself attires. And glides it with his repercussive fires, This lewell of the Land; Englands right Eye; Altar of Loue ; and sphere of Males tie. Of Edinburgh Jonson says, 'The heart of Scotland, Britain's other eye '. Cf. Justin 5. 8 : ' Athenae, Graeciae oculus ' ; Cicero, de Nat. Deor. 3. 38; and Milton, P.R. 4. 240. 69. in that commoditie. A cant word according to Dekker, Bellman of London, Pr. Wks. 5. 152. 77. wind-fucker. The word thus printed in the early folios was changed to ' wind-sucker ' in H, and subsequent editions kept it. Halliwell has the word ' fuck-wind ' — ' a species of hawk ', but gives no references to prove its use ; N. E. D. and Century do not recognize the word. ' Wind-sucker ', on the other hand, seems common. C. gives an interesting use of the term by Chapman in his preface to the Iliad (ed. Hooper, vol. i, p. Ixxii), where he characterizes a detractor, perhaps Jonson himself : ' There is a certain envious wind- sucker that hovers up and down, laboriously engrossing all the air with his luxurious ambition, and buzzing into every ear my detraction.' Cf. note 4. 4. 192. 78. rooke. ' The names of various stupid birds have been used at different periods for " fool" or " dupe": gull (properly a " young bird" of any kind), pigeon, daw, dodo, dotterel, and rook.^ — W. and their Ways, p. 363. Poet. i. i, p. 378 : Ovid sen. ' Shall I have my son a stager now .''... a gull, a rook, a shop-clog, to make suppers and be laugh'd at .? ' Act II. Scene I. MN. Fellow makes legs. To make a leg is to make a bow (in allusion to the throwing back of one leg in performing the act), a common expression, often used jocularly, AlVs Well 2. 2. lo: 'He that cannot make a leg, put off's cap, kiss his hand, and say ACT II, sc. i] Notes i6i nothing, has neither leg, hands, life, nor cap/ Overbury, Characters, A Country Gentleman : * By this time he hath learned to kiss his hand, and make a leg both together.' Selden, Table Talk, under Thanksgiving, p. 109: 'We are just like a child; give him a Plum, he makes his Leg ; give him a second Plum, he makes another Leg : At last when his Belly is full, he forgets what he ought to do ; then his Nurse, or some body else that stands by him, puts him in mind of his Duty, Where 'syour Leg ? ' 1. then. Conj. adv. 'then' used for 'than', cf. Abbott, § 70; and On the word than, in Philol. Soc. Transactions (1859, p. 151), by Danby P. Fry. 1 2. with their daggers, or with bricke-bats. It was difficult to preserve order in London streets ; rioting, monstrous noises, thieving, even murder was not uncommon. Peace was sometimes restored by the cry of ' clubs ', and sometimes not. The best idea of the condition of London streets is found in Dekker's Bell- man of London, zxvA Lanthorne and Candle-light; Drake, Sh. and his Times, p. 425, quotes from Lodge, Illustrations 2. 206. Of Morose's annoyers, it would be the ' gentlemen ' who would carry the daggers, for every gentleman wore rapier and dagger. The brickbats would be the missiles of the lower sort of roarer. Coriol. I. I. 168, Menenius advises the mob thus: But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs : Rome and her rats are at the point of battle. 20. Your Italian, and Spaniard. Jonson is fond of using this colloquial _>w^r, especially when the speaker is in a self-satisfied or patronizing mood. Bobadil vaingloriously describes how, Every Man /« 4. 5, p. 115: 'I would teach these nineteen the special rules, as your punto, your reverso, your stoccata, your imbroccato, your passada, your montanto.' So Lepidus, drunk, Ant. and Cleop. 2. 7.29: ' Your serpent of Egypt is bred, now, of your mud by the operation of your sun: so in your crocodile.' Hamlet 4. 3. 24: ' Your worm is your only emperor for diet ; . . . your fat king and your lean beggar is but variable service.' Cf. Coriol. i, i. 132, the talk of Menenius with the mob. Morose is at the height of his self-complacency here, taking his audience into his confidence as could hardly be expected of one to whom silence was so precious, but exemplifying that quality of i62 The Silent Woman [act ii dramatic irony which Jonson is so successful in making use of, allowing enthusiasm simply to make it ridiculous. Act II. Scene II. 3. fishes! Pythagorians. The Pythagoreans, followers of Pythagoras of the sixth century a. d., kept their theories, beliefs, and observances a profound secret. Jonson's News from the New World, vol. 7. 342 (2 Her. loq.) : 'They are Pythagoreans, all dumb as fishes, for they have no controversies to exercise them- selves in.' Poel. 4. I, p. 449 : Gall. O, that Horace had staid still, here. Tib. So would not I : for both these would have turned Pytha- goreans, then. Gall. What, mute ? Tib. I, as fishes i' faith. 4. Harpocrates ... with his club. Harpocrates (Horus) was the Egyptian god of the sun, the son of Osiris. He was said to have been born with his finger on his mouth, indicative of secrecy and mystery. — Smith's Classical Diet. GifFord suggests that Jon- son confounded the cornucopia, which the god is usually pictured as carrying, with the club, which is an indispensable attribute of Aesculapius, but it is more probable, as Dr. A. S. Cook points out, that Jonson identifies Harpocrates with Herakles. Cf. Lafaye, Histoire du Culte des Divinites d' Alexandrie (Bibltotheque des Ecoles /rangaises d'Athenes et de Rome, fascicule 33), p. 260: [Resembles Eros, Dionysus, Apollo, &c.] ' Identifi^ avec Hercule, il s'appuie quelquefois sur la massue. II semble qu'on se soit ingeni^ a grouper autour de lui tous les attributs qui convenaient dans les traditions artistiques de la Gr^ce aux figures des dieux enfants.' Cf. p. 283, no. 67. Eratosthenes, quoted by Georgius Syncellus, p. 109 B, ed. Goar, identifies Harpocrates with Herakles. Cf. SeJ. 5. 7, p. 129, and Bar. Fair 5. 3, p. 505. 9. an impudence. Jonson treats abstract nouns as concrete by prefixing an article or other modifier as here ; ' another feare ', 4. 5. 205 ; ' a miserie ', 5. 3. 60 ; or by pluralizing, as their ' wits ', 'braveries', 'valours', 4. 6. 5, 6 ; 'those servitudes', 5. 3. 112; 'ladies honors', 'your fames', 5. 4. 243, 248. 14. taste the one halfe of my dagger. The meaning is like sc. ii] Notes 163 that attached to the common expression to eat a sword. Cf. Much Ado 4. I. 279 : Benedict. By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me. Beat. Do not swear and eat it. Bened. ... I will make him eat it that says I love not you. 2 Hen. VI 4. 10. 30 : Cade. ' I'll make thee eat iron like an ostrich, and swallow my sword like a great pin.' 1 7. they say, you are to marry. The relation to the follow- ing scene of Juvenal's Sixth Satire has been made clear in the Introd. Similar in subject and details of treatment is Dekker's popular satire against women, The Batchelars Banquet (1604), a much lengthier and more detailed satire; it is a prose treatise exemplified with copious contemporary illustrations, but making use of Juvenal also. 22. London-bridge, at a low fall. The old bridge built by Peter Colechurch 11 76-1 209 was still standing in Jonson's day, indeed, was not rebuilt until the nineteenth century. It was covered with shops on both sides, making of the long structure a continuous street. St. Thomas's chapel was on the centre pier on the east side. There was a draw-bridge eleven spans from the Southwark side, and here were exhibited the heads of people executed for treason. Stow describes it in the Survey i. 53 ff. Walimsley, Bridges over the Thames : ' The resistance caused to the free ebb and flow of a large body of water by the contraction of its channel produces a fall or rapid under the bridge.' The Thames was noted for this dangerous condition of the water as it swirled through the narrow old arches. It was called 'shooting the bridge ' to pass the rapids in a boat. 24. Bow. St. Mary le Bow, Stow 3. 20, describes as being built ' in the reign of William Conqueror, being the first in this City built on arches of stone, was therefore called St. Mary de Arqubus or le Bow in West Cheaping; . . . This church ... for divers accidents happening there, hath been made more famous than any other parish church of the whole city or suburbs.' Bow church is on the south side of Cheapside, in Cordwainer's Ward ; it was destroyed in the great fire of 1666, but the outline of the original ' delicate steeple ', ' is preserved on a silver seal bearing the date of 1580, which was discovered after the fire. It was square, with a pinnacle at each of the four angles, from which spring flying 164 The Silent Woman [act ii buttresses, supporting a fifth pinnacle in the centre.' — Wh.-C. This old church, with its bells and its dragon, is alluded to innumerable times in literature, e. g. Otway, The Soldier's Fortune (1681): 'Oh Lord! here are doings, here are vagaries! I'll run mad. I'll climb Bow Steeple presently, bestride the dragon, and preach cuckoldom to the whole city.' Nor was suicide from London steeples, such as True-wit suggests, unheard of. By Cooper, Ath. Cant., vol. 2. 164, Bacon is reported to have said to Queen Elizabeth : ' If I do break my neck, I shall do it in a manner as Mr. Dodington did it, which walked on the batdements of the church many days, and took a view and survey where he should fall.' This brother-in-law of Sir Francis Wal- singham committed suicide Apr. ii, 1600, from the steeple of St. Sepulchre's. 25. Pauls. The St. Paul's cathedral of Jonson's time, built in 1087 by Bishop Maurice and remodeled in the thirteenth century, was so badly burned in 1561 that the tower and roof were lost. The steeple was never replaced. In 1598 Stow writes : ' Concerning the steeple divers models were devised and made, but little was done, through whose default God knoweth.' In 1632 Lupton, London Carbonadoed, says : ' The head of St. Paul's hath been twice troubled with a burning fever, and so the city, to keep it from a third danger, lets it stand without a head.' The entire church was lost in the fire of 1666. Cf. Underwoods, 61, Execration upon Vulcan, vol. 8. 408 : Pox on your flameship, Vulcan ! if it be To all as fatal as't hath been to me. And to Paul's Steeple ; . . . and though a divine Loss, remains yet as unrepaired as mine. For an interesting account of St. Paul's and the unique use to which the church was put at this time, cf. Dekker, The Dead Tearme; for its history. Three Cathedrals dedicated to St. Paul in London, William Longman, L. 1873. 34-5. masques, plaies, puritane preachings, mad-folkes. The first was a form of histrionic spectacle much in vogue during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. It originated in the practice of introducing, on festival days, men wearing masks to represent mythical or allegorical characters. From a mere acted pageant it sc. ii] Notes 165 gradually developed into a complete dramatic entertainment, in which the scenes were accompanied and embellished by music, the dressing was very splendid, and the scenery magnificent. Ben Jonson, Beaumont, Fletcher, Milton are the greatest makers of this form of poetry. Because of the expense of such spectacles they were never a popular amusement, being enjoyed chiefly by the royalty or nobility of the realm, at one of the great houses. Masques came to be a feature of ceremonial days, birthdays, weddings, coronation days, &c. True-wit enumerates masques as one of the things Morose's wife should not witness, because the conduct of the citizens who were admitted to the court masques, was notorious. playes. The harshest criticism in regard to the conduct of women in the early play-house is that of Stubbes, Anat. 0/ Ab., pp. 144 ff., and of Gosson, School 0/ Ab. Besant, London, p. 279, gives a happier view : ' Women in the galleries . . . dressed very finely, like ladies of quality, in satin gown, lawn aprons, taffeta petticoats, and gold threads in their hair. They seemed to rejoice in being thus observed and gazed upon. When a young man had found a girl to his taste, he went into the gallery, sat beside her, and treated her to pippins, nuts, or wine.' But from the earliest times the audience at the theatre had a reputation for irresponsible behavior. As early as Dec. 6, 1574, the following enactment was passed by ' Order of the Common Council of London in restraint of Dramatic Exhibitions ' (Hazlitt, Drama and the Stage, p. 27): 'Whereas heartofore sondrye greate disorders and inconvenyences have been found to ensewe to this Cittie by the inordynate hauntynge of greate multitudes of people, specially youthe, to playes, enterludes and shewes ; namelye occasyon of frayes and quarrells, eavell practizes of incontinencye in greate Innes, havinge chambers and secrete places adjoynynge to their open stagies and galleries, inveyglynge and alleurynge of maides, speciallye orphanes, and good cityzens children under age, to previe and unmete contracts, the publishinge of unchaste, un- comelye, and unshamefaste speeches and doyngs, withdrawinge of the Queues Majesties subjectes from dyvyne service on Soundaies & hollydayes,' &c. puritane preachings. Jonson's gibe at the Puritan service by classing it with secular gatherings of the above sort is hardly fair, but it indicates his intolerance of this sect, which resulted in the making of the famous Tribulation Wholesome i66 The Silent Woman [act ir and Ananias in the Alchem., and in the still more famous character in Bar. Fair, the erstwhile baker of Banbury, Zeal-of-the-land Busy, together with his friends the Littlewits and Purecrafts. mad-folkes. The hospitals for the insane were open for the amusement of visitors, for the Jacobian idea of the comic included madness, as many of the plots and separate scenes of old comedies prove. A small fee admitted visitors to the public asylums, and the inmates were looked upon in the light of legitimate amusement. strange sights. Fleet Street, from Ludgate Circus to the Strand and West End, was London's ' midway ' or * pike ', where people of all sorts crowded to see the curiosities brought home by English explorers : Indians from the Americas, fish from strange seas, waxworks, puppet shows, and monstrosities of all kinds. Thornbury, Sh. Eng. i. 35: 'There's the guinea hens and casso- wary at St. James's and the beaver in the park ; the giant's lance at the Tower; the live dog-fish; the wolf, and Harry the Lion; the elephant ; the steer with two tails ; the camel ; the motion of Eltham and the giant Dutchman.' Another list is in Mayne, City Match 3. I : The birds Brought from Peru, the hairy wench, the camel, The elephant, dromedaries, or Windsor Castle, The Woman with dead flesh, or she that washes, Threads needles, writes, dresses her children, plays O' th' virginals with her feet, could never draw People like this. In the Tempest 2. 2 Trinculo, seeing Caliban, exclaims: 'A strange fish ! Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver ; there would this monster make a man ; any strange beast there makes a man : when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian.' In Volp. 2. I Jonson satirizes the love of strange sights and news, in the gull Sir Politik Would-be. 37. Etheldred . . . Edward the Confessor. Jonson's refer- ence to the morals of Edward's and his father's time, is influenced by the latter's churchly name, his reputation for sanctity, and his canonization in 1161. He was a West Saxon king, son of ^thel- red II and Emma of Normandy. He was born at Islip, Oxford- sc. ii] Notes 167 shire, and lived 1 004-1 066. ^thelred II, surnamed the Unready, lived 968-1016, 42. shall runne. Shall at this time denoted in all three persons inevitable futurity, without desire. Later a reluctance to apply a word meaning necessity to and and 3rd person, caused post-Elizabethans to substitute will (wish) in the 2nd and 3rd persons. So will came to have two duties — purpose (wish), futurity. Shall in the 2nd and 3rd persons came to mean the compulsory act of the speaker. Cf. Abbott, § 315. 43. cosen'd. This word as verb or noun is constantly crop- ping up, and at this time, more often than not, its connotation is unpleasant. W. and their Ways, pp. 67 ff. : ' Cozen has usually been referred to cousin, and the French cousiner favors this view. Cot- grave, in 161 1, defined the French verb as 'to claim kindred for advantage . . . ; as he who, to save charges in travelling, goes from house to house, as cousin to the owner of every one '. This etymology has been doubted, but it is supported by a fact which has escaped the editors of the N. E. D. ' To go a- cousining' is an old-fashioned New England phrase applied to one who quarters himself on his distant relatives.' Cf. Epicoem 2. 2. 103. 49. assassinate. An unusual noun, Daniel, Civ. Wars 3. 78 : What hast thou done. To make this barbarous base assassinate Upon the person of a prince? Jonson, Prince Henry s Barriers, vol. 7. 157 : Th' assassinate made upon his life By a foul wretch. 54. facinorous. Shakespeare makes use of this word but once, AlVs Well 2. 3. 35, Parolles: 'He's of a most facinerious spirit that will not acknowledge it.' 61 ff. Vaulter . . . Frencliman that walkes vpon ropes. Acrobats never lacked popularity. Nichols {Progresses i. 16) enumerates among the entertainments at Kenilworth Castle for Queen Elizabeth, 'goings, turnings, gambauds, somersaults, caprettings, and flights, forward, backward, sideways, downward, upward, and with sundry windings, gyrings, and circumflexions '. That this class of entertainers did not have the sanction of the law is shown in the following, 39 Eliz. c. 4 (1597-8), ' An Acte for i68 The Silent Woman [act ii punyshment of Rogues, Vagabonds, and Sturdy Beggars': 'All Fencers, Bearewards, common Players of Enterludes, and Min- strels wandering abroad (other then Players of Enterludes belong- ing to any Baron of the Realm . . .) shall be stripped, whipped, and sent to their own parishes or to the house of correction.' Strutt gives a full account of most of their performances, Sports and Past., pp. 172 fF. Vaulters are described : ' The wonderful perform- ances of that most celebrated master Simpson, the famous vaulter who, being lately arrived from Italy, will show the world what vaulting is,' &c. One leaped on horseback from all sorts of incon- ceivable positions, another leaped over nine horses standing side by side with a man seated on the midmost, another jumped over a garter held fourteen feet high, &c. Strutt relates remarkable feats in rope- dancing (ibid. 180 ff.) from the battlements of St. Paul's, in the time of Henry, Mary, and James II. Wire-dancing Strutt tells about on p. 228, and descriptions of the balancing of balls, knives, swords, wheels, &c., follow on p. 231. 68. yellow doublets, and great roses. The ' braveries ' of James I's day werfe notorious for the loud colors in which they dressed and for the extremes to which they carried fashions. The rose, which was worn on the shoe, was as universal a fashion as it was a subject for jest and satire. 2?. .4. i. 2, p. 19 : My heart was at my mouth Till I had view'd his shoes well; for these roses Were big enough to hide a cloven foot. Hamlet 3. 2, 288: 'Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers, with two Provencial roses on my razed shoes, get me a fellowship in a cry of players, sir ?' Friar Bacons Prophecie (1604) : When roses in the garden grew. And not in ribons on a shoe : Now ribon-roses take such place, That garden roses want their grace. 69-70. if foule, . . . shee'll . . . buy those doublets. So said Chaucer, Wifes Prologue 265: 'And if that she be foul thou seist, that she coveiteth every man that she may se.' And Jonson echoes the satire again, Cat. 2. i, in the conversation between Fulvia and Sempronia. 73. Tyrannes. Pronounced probably Tyranny, cf. 3. 5. 17. Though in a line in Sej. i. i, p. 17: 'Tyrannes arts are to give sc. ii] Notes 169 flatterers grace', it is disyllabic. C. appends to the line in SeJ. this statement : ' Jonson invariably spelt this word without a / ', meaning of course a final /. Cf. note 3. 2. 10. 78-9. Speake Latine and Greeke. Despite Jonson's satire, women who were his contemporaries were no mean students of these languages. Women of the type of the mother and aunts of Francis Bacon are by no means such isolated cases that parallels are not to be found. Roger Ascham, as tutor of Elizabeth and Lady Jane Grey, told before Jonson's time the now popular story of going to bid the latter of his pupils good-bye before he left for Germany, and she was ' in her chamber reading Phaedon Platonis in Greeke, and that with as much delight as some gentlemen would read a merrie tale in Bocase '. Elizabeth herself wrote a commentary on Plato, translated two orations from the Greek Isocrates, a play of Euripides, the Hiero of Xenophon, and Plutarch's de Curiontate, and her translations from the Latin are numerous. Cf. Ascham's Works (ed. Benner), p. 333. 81. silenc'd brethren. Alchem. 3. i, p. 88, Tribulation calls them * silenced saints' ; Dekker, ' dumb ministers ', cf. note 3. 3. 84 ; Jonson calls them ' silenc'd ministers ', 2. 6. 17, as doesEarle, Micro-C, p. 63. In the Conventicle Act of Elizabeth, 1593, the Puritans had been prohibited from worshipping independently. Those disobeying this mandate were imprisoned, some for terms stretching over many years without even a trial. In 1604, after the Hampton Court conference, nonconformists were again silenced, and many ministers lost their benefices. 82. family, or wood. Alchan. 3. 2, p. 92, has this peculiar expression. 86. will cozen you. Jonson brings the same charge of dis- honesty against the Puritans in Bar. Fair 5. 2, p. 476, where Purecraft confesses to Quarlous her enormities, among which she enumerates her business of marrying ' our poor handsome young virgins with our wealthy bachelors or widowers; to make them steal from their husbands '. 90. I will beat you. Manual correction of household servants was common. Twelfth Night 3. 2 : 'I know my lady will strike him.' There are many stories of Elizabeth's chastisement of those who waited upon her. Besides, there seems to have been a preva- lent custom of indulging in the kind of conjugal beatings which M 170 The Silent Woman [act ll Mrs. Otter knew how to administer, and examples of which abound in Dekker's prose writings. 103. cosen. As illustrative of the connotation given to this word, 2 Honest Whore i. 2, Fustigo, who pretends to be his sister's lover, says to Viola : ' No, no, it shall be cousin, or rather coz ; that 's the gulling word between the citizens' wives and their mad-caps ... no, no, let me alone to cousin you rarely.' 108 ff. a succession of groomes, footmen, vshers, and other messengers. The footman was originally chosen from the Irish, and worked in the stables. Overbury paints him : ' Guards he wears none, which makes him live more upright than any cross- gartered gentleman-usher.' The groomes were servants of various offices and various degrees of importance. Cf. D. A. 4. i, p. 108: Lady T. Good madam, whom do they use in messages ? Wit. They commonly use their slaves, madam. Lady T. And does your ladyship think that so good, madam ? Wit. No indeed, madam ; I therin prefer the fashion of Eng- land far, of your young delicate page, or discreet usher. 109 ff. embroyderers, iewellers, tyre-women, sempsters, fether-men, perfumers. The wares of embroiderers and jewelers were never more in requisition than in the days of Eliza- beth and James : caps, ruffs, bands, doublets, jerkins, hose, smocks, gloves, every garment was a miracle of design and stitches painfully wrought. Stubbes, Anai. of Ab., pp. 51 ff., takes article by article for his attack. Burton, A^iat. of Mel., p. 525 : ' Why do they decorate themselves with artificial flowers, the various colours of herbs, needle works of exquisite skill, quaint devises, and perfume their persons, wear inestimable riches in precious stones, crown themselves with gold and silver, use coronets and tires of several fashions, deck themselves with pendants, brace- lets, ear-rings, chains, girdles, rings, pins, spangles, embroideries, shadow rebatoes, versicolor ribands? Why do they make such glorious shews with their scarfs, feathers, fans, masks, furs, laces, tiffonies, ruffs, falls, calls, cuffs, damasks, velvets, tinsels, cloth of gold, silver tissue?' A description of the Duke of Buckingham is illuminating on this point, Planche 2. 229: 'It was common with him at any ordinary dancing to have his clothes trimmed with great diamond buttons, and to have diamond hatbands, cockades, and ear-rings ; sc. ii] Notes 171 to be yoked with great and manifold knots of pearl ; in short to be manacled, fettered, and imprisoned in jewels; insomuch that at his going over to Paris in 1625, he had 27 suits of clothes made the richest that embroidery, lace, silk, velvet, gold, and gems could contribute ; one of which was a white uncut velvet, set all over, both suit and cloak, with diamonds valued at 14,000 pounds, besides a great feather stuck all over with diamonds, as were also his sword, girdle, hatband, and spurs.' The sempsters, male and female, had their shops in the Royal Exchange, and in the New Exchange in the Strand. The fether-men had their head-quarters in Pilgrim Street, and were, most of them, the Puritan inhabitants of Blackfriars, thus giving the satirists an excellent opportunity to point out incon- sistencies of religion and business. Randolph, Muses' Looking- Glass (1638) I. I : Mrs. Flowerden. Indeed it sometimes pricks my conscience, I come to sell 'em pins and looking-glasses. Bird. I have their custom too for all their feathers : 'Tis fit that we, which are sincere professors, Should gain by infidals. ibid. 1.2: You sweet Feathermen, whose ware though light. Outweighs your conscience. Bar. Fair 5. 3, p. 502 : * What say you to your feather-makers in the Friers that are of your faction of faith ? Are not they with their perukes, and their puffs, their fans, and their huffs as much pages of Pride, and waiters upon Vanity/ Alchem. i. i, p. 20: An upstart apocryphal captain Whom not a Puritan in Blackfriers will trust So much as for a feather! Marston, Malcontent, Induction : BuRBAGE. Why do you conceal your feather, sir ? Sly. Why do you think I'll have jests broken upon me in the play ; This play hath beaten all our gallants out of the feathers ; Blackfriars hath almost spoilt Blackfriars for feathers. Middleton, Roaring Girl (^1611) 2. i : What feather is't you'd have, sir? These are most worn, and most in fashion M Z 172 The Silent Wommt [act ii Amongst the beaver gallants, the stone riders, The private-stage's audience, the twelve-penny stool gentlemen. I can inform you 'tis the general feather. Cf. Anat. of Ah., p. 50; also note i. i. 64. 112. mercer. These rich and fashionable tradesmen, together with the haberdashers, had fine shops on London Bridge. Because of their high prices Greene in Qidppe for an Vpstart Cojirtier, p. 279, coins the epithet 'merciless mercer'. 115. despaire of a beard. An un-EngUsh phrase explained by its source, Juv. SaL 6. 367 : * Oscula delectent et desperatio barbae.' 116. Salisbury. In reference to the horse-racing there. 117. Bath. This Somersetshire town, with its famous hot- springs, was an old Roman bathing-place, but was destroyed by the Saxons. In the seventeenth century it was developed and took the lead among English watering-places. In the eighteenth century it added to its attractions Beau Nash and the Pump Room in the Abbey Churchyard. what at court, what in progresse. The court, generally at Whitehall, was a notorious news centre. Elizabeth's progresses were matters of state policy, and were continued from her accession to her death. In the year of her coronation, 1559, she went from Greenwich to Dartmouth, Cob- ham, Eltham, Nonesuch, and Hampshire; in 1560 to Winchester and Basing, and so on through almost every year of her reign. Her famous visit to Kenilworth was July 9, 1575 ; in Aug. 1564 she visited Cambridge and stayed at King's College; in 1566 she went to Oxford. James during his reign followed the example of his predecessor. Nichols, in his exhaustive treatment of this subject in his Progresses and Public Processions of Queeii Elizabeth, and fames /, may be referred to for descriptions of the method of travel, the entertainment, and the size of the court that accompanied the monarch. 118. censure poets. Jonson says in Disc. (SchelHng), pp. 21.16 ff. : ' Nothing in our age, I have observed, is more preposterous than the running judgments upon poetry and poets.' But it is not strange that an age so full of the creative spirit in literature should have shown a proportionately widespread critical spirit. Dekker calls the women with a literary craze ' the Arcadian and Euphuized gentlewomen '. 119. Daniel . . . Spenser . . . lonson. Samuel Daniel sc. ii] Notes 173 ( 1 562-1 61 9), poet and historian, was the author of the poetical Books of the Civil Wars, 1 595-1 604, Mtisophilus, 1599, &c. ; and the prose History of England. William Browne called him ' The well-languaged Daniel '. He was poet-laureate for years before Jonson succeeded him, and when the Queen's Revels' Boys were reorganized after James's accession Daniel was made their literary manager, Jonson seems to have had no great respect for his poetic merit. In Every Man In 5. i, p. 146 he parodies the first stanza of Daniel's Sonnets to Delia, and in the S. of News 3. I, p. 236, he sneers at the 'fine poet'. Besides, he is 'the better verser' in the following quotation from Epistle 12, To Elizabeth Coimtess of Rutland, where he promises to do the countess honor as only poets can : You, and that other star, that purest light. Of all Lucina's train, Lucy the bright, . . . Who though she hath a better verser got Or poet, in the court account, than I And who doth me, though I not him envy, {Forest, vol. 8. 269.) Drummond quotes several remarks about him in the Cojiversations, vol. 9. 365-6 ; I. * Said he had written a Discourse of Poesie both against Campion and Daniel, especially this last.' III. 'Samuel Daniel was a good honest man, had no children ; but no poet.' XL 'Daniel was at jealousies with him.' For a full treatment of Jonson's relation to Daniel, cf. Small, The Stage Quarrel. Spenser. Edmund Spenser was admired by Jonson despite Drummond's report, vol. 9, 366 : ' Spenser's stanzas pleased him not, nor his matter ; the meaning of which allegoric he had de- livered in papers to Sir Walter Raleigh.' In Disc. (Sch.), p. 22. 14, Jonson writes : ' If it were put to the question of the water rhymer's works, against Spenser's, I doubt not but they would find more suffrages.' Underwoods 96, Sir Kenelm Digby, vol. 9. 35 : ' doth love my verses, and will look upon them, next to Spenser's noble book '. W. quotes the following to prove that Jonson's supposition that Spenser and Daniel might be compared was in truth a reality. Spenserum si quis nostrum velit esse Maronem, Tu, Daniele, niihi Naso Britannus eris; Sin ilium potius Phoebum velit esse Britannum, Tum, Daniele, mihi tu IMaro noster eris. 174 '^^^ Silent Woman [act ii Nil Phoebo ulterius; si quid foret, illud haberet Spenserus, Phoebus tu, Daniele, fores. Quippe loqui Phoebus cuperet si more Britanno, Haud scio quo poterat, ni velit ore tuo. Fitz. Geoffrey (Oxon. 8vo. i6oi). Jonson. Jonson's habit of introducing himself, as here, into his writings was due to his intensely personal attitude toward any matter that held his interest, but it is scarcely justifiable from the standpoint of ethics or dramatic art. In Cyn. Rev. he is Crites ; in Poet., Horace. In Mag. Lady 4. i, p. 15 : Iron. Who made this epigram, you ? Com. No, a great clerk As any of his bulk, Ben Jonson made it. ibid. 3. 4, p. 66 : Sir Diaph. O, you have read the play there, the Neiv Inn, Of Jonson's, that decries all other valour, But what is for the public. News /ro7n the New World, vol. 7. 341: 'One of our greatest poets (I know not how good a one) went to Edinburgh on foot, and came back,' a reminiscence of the visit to Scotland and to his friend Drummond of Hawthornden. Gipsies Mefajnor., vol. 7. 405 : ' Good Ben slept there, or else forgot to shew it.' Epig. 43, To Robert Earl 0/ Salisbury, vol. 8.166: ' not the worst' of poets. Epig. Im'go Jojies, vol. 8. 13 : Sir Inigo doth fear it as I hear . . . That I should write upon him some sharp verse. The Lybian lion hunts no butterflies. Cf. also Underwoods 87, 96, in vol. 9. the tother youth. It is doubtful to whom Jonson refers, if to anybody. Malone named Shakespeare, a suggestion crushed by Gifford in a long note, and replaced by the name of Marston because of his nearness to Jonson's age, his publications, his learning, austerity, &c. 126. going in disguise. It was an easy matter for women to go about incognito in an age when masks were fashionable, and ladies drove in their coaches, sat at the play, and danced at court protected by velvet visors. Bar. Fair 5. 3, p. 486 : Mrs. Lit. (disguised) I think they think me a very lady. Edg. What else, madam ? Mrs. Lit. Must I put off my mask to him ? sc. n] Notes 175 Underwoods 14, To Mr. John Fletcher, vol. 8. 324 : The wise and many-headed bench, that sits Upon the life and death of plays and wits, Composed of gamester, captain, knight, knight's man, Lady or pucelle, that wears mask or fan. Stubbes abuses the fashion, p. 80 : * When they vse to ride abroad, they haue visors made of veluet (or in my iudgement they may rather be called inuisories) wherewith they couer all their faces, hauing holes made in them agaynst their eies, whereout they looke. So that if a man who knew not their guise before, should chance to meete one of them, he would thinke he mette a monster or a deuill ; for face he can see none, but two broad holes agaynst their eyes, with glasses in them.' 127. coniurer . . . cunning woman. The conjurer was much resorted to, and in his tricks, described by Thornbury, Sh. Eng. 2. 156 ff., and Brand, Pop. Antiq. 3. 55 ff,, reminds us of quack spiritualists of to-day. He materialized spirits of the dead, consulted knowing spirits to discover future happenings, pretended to become invisible, &c. Minsheu in his Did. differentiates the conjurer from the witch : ' The conjuror seemeth by praiers and invocations of God's powerful names, to compel the divell to say or doe what he commandeth him. The witch dealeth rather by a friendly and voluntarie conference ... to have his or her turn served, in lieu or stead of blood or other gift offered unto him, especially of his or her soule. And both these differ from in- chanters or sorcerers, because the former two have personal conference with the divell, and the other meddles but with medicines and ceremonial formes of words called charms.' Prospero in The Tevipest is a poetic type of conjurer. cunning women were quack doctors; they could also read future happenings, prophesy by the stars, mix love potions, perform conjurer's tricks, &c. Thornbury describes them, Sh. Eng. 2. i68 ff. In the M. W. of W. 4. 2, the Old Woman of Brentford is ' a witch, a quean, an old cozening quean I . . . We are simple men ; we do not know what 's brought to pass under the profession of fortune- telling. She works by charms, by spells, by the figure, and such daubery as this is ; beyond our element : we know nothing.' In regard to the whole wide field of superstitious beliefs at this time, reference may be made to Thomas Lodge (1596), Devils Incarnate of this Age; Reginald Scot {\e^^4), Discoverie of Witch- 176 The Silent IVoman [act ii era//; James I (1597), Daeinonology, James Mason (161 2), Anatomie of Sorcery; R. Bernard (1637), A Guide to Grand- juryme7i, in two books, conccrnuig ivitchcraft and witches. 1 39. birdlime. Remarks on Epicccne, p. 7 1 : ' Viscous and glutinous unguents and cataplasms for beautifying the face.' Cf. Gipsies Mctamor., vol. 7. 402. 140. fucus. This now obs. word was very common; Cyn. Rev. 5. 2, p. 328: 'What are the ingredients to your fucus?' Dekker, Westward Ho 1. 1, Dram. Wks. 2. 285 : ' Heereis ... an excellent Fucus to . . . weede out Freckles.' Ram Alley, Haz.- Dods., vol. 10 : Till you referred me to the aunt, the lady, I knew no ivory teeth, no caps of hair, No mercury water, fucus, or perfumes. Beaumont and Fletcher, Woman Hater 3. 2 : With all his waters, powders, fucuses. To make thy lovely corps sophisticate. 141. forgot. Elizabethan English is full of such irregular participles. Cf. Epiccene quit i. i. 161, I'id 2. 4. 103, catcKd 3. 2. 43, broke 2. 4. 7, writ 5. 4. 204. Cf. Abbott, §§ 343, 344- Act II. Scene III. 1. at her owne charges: i.e. risking the disadvantages her- self. Cat., Address to the Reader, vol. 4. 186 : 'Be any thing you will be at your own charge.' 23. recite his owne workes. This is the jest eternal against amateur writers in French and English comedy. Dekker, Guls Hor7i-Booke gives careful directions how to get an audience in an ordinary : ' After a turne or two in the roome, take occasion (pulling out your gloues) to haue some Epigrajns, or Satyre, or Sonnet fastened in one of them that may (as it were vnwittingly to you) offer itselfe to the Gentlemen : they without much coniuration from them, and a pretty kind of counterfet loathnes in yourselfe, do now read it ; and though it be none of your owne, sweare you made it.' Exactly the same advice is in the French Lois de la galanterie, 1658. 45. Plvtarch, and Seneca. From the coupling of Seneca's name with the moralist's, it would seem that Jonson did not sc. Ill] Notes 177 identify him with the writer of tragedies, as most scholars now do. Jonson carefully designates the tragedian, 1. 68. 49. Essaists. Discitdi. Schelling), p. 25. 21, criticizes the incon- sistencies and shallowness of essayists, 'even their master Mon- taigne '. 57. Aristotle. Z^/jc, p. 78. 21 : ' Aristotle was the first accurate critic and truest judge, nay, the greatest philosopher the world ever had'; ibid., p. 80. 6: 'But whatever nature at any time dedicated to the most happy, or long exercise to the most laborious, that the wisdom and learning of Aristotle brought into an art because he understood the causes of things'; ibid. p. 66, 16: ' Nothing is more ridiculous than to make an author a dictator, as the schools have done Aristotle.' In the Execration tipon Vulcan, vol. 8. 403, Jonson bemoans the loss of his translation of Horace ' lighted by the Stagerite '. 58. Plato. Though the founder of the Academy must have stood high in Jonson's regard, he writes, Disc, pp. 29. 4 fF. : ' It is no wonder men's eminence appears in their own way. . . . The most eloquent Plato's speech, which he made for Socrates, is neither worthy the patron, nor the person defended.' Cf. ibid., pp. 58. 18, 82. 9 ff. Thvcidides, Li vie. Jonson has no other reference to the historian of the Pcloponnesian War, nor to the prolific Augustan prose writer, except the unimportant advice, Disc, p. 57. 15, that he be read before Sallust. 59. Tacitvs. The style of this historian is considered Disc. 62. 22 ff. 199. Of his histories, the Germania, Historiae, and Annals of the Time of the Julian Dynasty, Jonson had studied most thoroughly the last, and made it the chief source for his Sejanus. He discusses him with Drummond, vol. 9. 376, viii: 'That Petronius, Plinius Secundus, Tacitus, spoke best Latine ; . . . Juvenal, Perse, Horace, Martial, for delight ; and so was Pindar.' 62. Homer. Z>/>r.,p.86.6: 'The best masters of the epic, Homer and Virgil ; ' ibid., p. 77. 25 Jonson makes him a poet to be imitated, and the master of Virgil ; and other mention is made of him in exemplifying critical points, ibid. 14. 19, 39. 27, 82. 10, 87. 29. 64. Virgil. Disc, p. 29. 3 : ' Virgil's felicity left him in prose ; ' ibid. 57. 28: 'The reading of Homer and Virgil is . . . the best way of informing youth^and confirming man;' ibid., p. 76. 28: 'It is said of the incomparable Virgil that he brought forth his verses like a bear, and after formed them with licking ; ' Jonson calls him an 178 The Silent Woman [act il imitator of Homer, ibid., p. 77. 26, and names both as masters of the epic, ibid., p. 86. 9. Cf. ibid., pp. 61. 27, 63. 22. Horace. Jonson's admiration for Horace is shown in his translation and annotation of the Ars Poetica, as well as by frequent quotation and adaptation. He makes him the ideal critic of poetry, Disc, pp. 80. i8fF., and discusses his opinions, ibid., pp. 50. 31, 74. 12, 77. 22 ff., 78. 20, and 84. 67. Lycophron. Lycophron, a grammarian and critic of the Alexandrian School under Ptolemy Philadelphus, wrote a treatise on the nature and history of comedy, and some sixty tragedies. Nothing of his work is extant except some fragments of the above, and a monologue on Cassatidra, destitute of poetic merit, and proverbially obscure. 68. Seneca, the tragoedian. The identity of this Roman and that of the moralist, the tutor and adviser, and afterwards the victim of Nero, has never been proved, but scholars believe them to be one and the same man. Cf. Merivale, History of the Romans under the Empire (ed. 1865) 6. 382; Conington's Essay, Seneca, Poet and Philosopher, in vol. i Miscellaneous Writings, 1892. For Seneca's influence on English tragedy, cf. J. W. Cunliffe's essay (London, 1893), and Ward, Eyig. Dram. Lit. i. 189 ff. Between the years 1559 and 1581 all the ten tragedies were trans- lated into English. Thomas Newton collected the work of the 'laudable authors', in 1 581, in Seneca his tenfie Tragedies trans- lated into Englysh. Lvcan. ' Lucan, taken in parts, was good divided ; read altogidder, merited not the name of a Poet.' So Drummond reports {Conv. 370) of the Latin poet whose epic on the war between Caesar and Pompey is his greatest achievement. 69. Martial, Ivvenal. The last two are to be read ' for delight ', Conv. p. 376. Two epigrams of Martial Jonson trans- lated vol. 9, pp. 127, 345; cf. vol. 3. 388. For Juvenal cf. Introd., ip. Iff. and Conv., pp. 366, 377. He is mentioned Disc, p. 86. 21. Avsonivs. Decimus Magnus Ausonius (310-394) was the best Latin poet of the fourth century a. d. He was a Christian ; the tutor to Gratian, son of Valentinian ; and became consul in 379. There is a folio of his works dated at Venice, 1472. Stativs. Virgil and Statius are named together as imitators of Homer, Disc, p. 77. 26. His miscellaneous collection called Silvae may have suggested the name for Jonson's Silva, Timber or Discoveries. sc. Ill] Notes 179 70. Politian, Valerivs riaccvs. Angelus Politianus was an Italian humanist living 1454-94, the author of Greek and Latin epigrams; the translator of five books of the Ib'ad, and of Epictitus, Galen, &c., and the editor of the Pandects of Justinian. He was Professor of Greek and Latin at the University of Florence from 1484. His patron was the powerful Lorenzo de Medici. Valerius Flaccus, was a subject both of Vespasian and Titus, dying 90 a. d. His unfinished epic, the Argonautica, is a para- phrase of the poem by Apollonius Rhodius. 76. Persivs. Cf. Conv. vol. 9. 377. 80. Syntagma luris ciuilis. Daw translates the Greek (tvv- Tayixa into Latin and plunges ahead with ' Corpus luris ciuilis ', which Blackstone, Coimn. Introd. Sec. 3, § 81 defines : ' The body of the Roman Law is the term applied to the methodical collection, or code, of the Roman laws, compiled under the auspices of Justinian and finished by Tribonian and other lawyers about the year 533 a.d.' This code is still in force in many of the states of modern Europe, and to it all refer as authority or written reason. It was compiled in the following order: (i) In 529 Justinian had a compilation of laws in twelve books made called Codex vetus, which is now lost. (2) The Pandects or Digests were made in 533 in fifty books, being extracts from the writings of thirty-nine jurists, and carrying the complete name of Digesta sive Pandectae juris emicleati ex omni vetere jure coUecti. (3) Also in 533 the Institutes in four books containing the elements of legal science, founded on the commentaries of Gaius. (4) In 534 there was a revision of the Codex in thirteen books called Codex repetitae praelectionis. (5) The NoveUae Constitutiones, 154 constitutions, were published at various times during Justinian's reign. (6) Sixteen others were collected after his death, and are known also by the name of NoveUae. These various collections were always called by their separate titles until 1604, when Dionysius Gothofredus gave as title to the second edition of his great glossed collection Corpus luris Civilis. It may be added that although England never adopted Roman law as a complete system, its influence in the formation of the Common Law cannot be denied by the impartial inquirer. 8L Corpus luris Canonici, Blackstone, Co7n7n. InixoA. Sec. 3. § 82 : 'The body of the Roman canon or ecclesiastical law is a compilation taken from the opinions of the ancient Latin fathers, the decrees of general councils, and the decretal epistles and bulls i8o The Silent Woman [act ii of the holy see. . . . Gratlan's decree, Gregory's decretals, the sixth decretal, the Clementine constitutions, and the extravagants of John and his successors, form the corpus juris canonici, or body of the Roman canon law.' 82. King of Spaines bible. C. says aptly of the passage of which this is a part, ' Fielding must have had this passage in his memory, when he makes Ensign Northerton damn Hovio with all his heart, and curse Korderius for another son of something or other that has got him many a flogging'. Daw refers to the Antwerp Polyglot, an eight- volume Bible published at Antwerp 1569-72 with the sanction of Philip II. It was edited by Arias Montanus, and printed by Christopher Plantin. Cf. Hallam, Lit. of Europe, 2. 136, 484. 86, a Dutch-man. It seems traditional that whatever has sounded strange in speech to English cars has been denominated Dutch. Alchem. 2. i, p. 48 : Mammon declares that Solomon and Adam have written of the philosopher's stone ' in High Dutch '. In Dekker's works the word Dutch (Deutsch) seems used uniformly for the word Germaji (a custom surviving in parts of America), e.g. Laiithoni a?td Caiidle- Light, Pr. Wks. 4. 188; Addison, Spec- tator, 135; and Earle, Micro-C, p. 53. 89. Prangois Vatable was cure of Bramet, professor of Hebrew from 1531 at the royal college of three languages (estab- lished by Francis I in Paris), and at his death in 1517 was Abbe of Bellozane. A famous lecturer, he has left little in the way of writing but translations, and commentaries on the Hebrew Testa- ment. Cf. Biog. Univ. 42, and Hallam, Lit. of Eur. i. 462. Petrus Pomponatius (Pomponazzi) (1462-1524?) was doctor in medicine and philosophy at Padua, later holding the chair in philosophy there. He was a famous disputant, and lectured at Padua, Ferrara, and Bologna. His best known work, De Immor- ialiiate, was publicly burned at Venice, and the friendship of Bembo and Leo X, as well as his own defense of his arguments, never cleared his name of the charge of infidelity. Cf. Biog. Univ. 34, and Hallam, Lit. of Eur. i. 435. Diego, or Jacobus, Simancas (also called Didacus) was a Cordovan living during the second half of the sixteenth century. He was a teacher of canon and civil law at Salamanca, royal councilor at Valladolid, and Bishop successively of Ciudad Rodrigo, of Badajoz, and Zamora. He wrote De Catholicis In- sc. Ill] Notes i8i sittutionibus liber, De Pn'mogenitis Hispaniae libri quinque, De Republica libri ix, etc. Cf. Jocher, Allgemeine Gelehrk Lexicon, Leipzig, 1 75 1. 100. dotes. This is a rare use of the word, Cf. Underwoods loo, vol. 9. 41 : I durst not aim at that ; the dotes were such Thereof, no notion can express how much Their caract was. Sidney, Arcadia 3. 276 (1622): 'ExtolUng the goodly dotes of Mopsa.'— TV. E. D. 102. 'Tis her vertue : i.e. silence is her virtue. 108. euery man, that writes in verse, is not a Poet. Jonson discusses (Z>zjf., p. 76. 28) how: 'A rhymer and a poet are two things.' Mercury remarks of Hedon, Cyn. Rev. 2. i, p. 239: ' Himself is a rhymer, and that 's thought better than a poet.' Cf. Dedication to Volp. 110-11. the poore fellowes that liue by it. We forget the Jack Daw that says this, and remember that the poet who penned the lines well knew what it meant to have as the only protection against poverty, his poetry. Cf. Poet. i. i, p. 385, where Tucca describes the poets : ' They are a sort of poor starved rascals, that are ever wrapt up in foul linen ; and can boast of nothing but a lean visage, peering out of a seam-rent suit, the very emblems of beggary.' 117. noble Sidney liues by his. Sir Philip Sidney died in 1586, but his pastoral romance Arcadia was not published until 1590, his sonnets Astrophel and Stella in 1591, and his Defense of Poesie in 1595. There was no complete edition of his works until 1725, and the best at present is that of Grosart, 1873. Before they were published, however, Sidney was ' living by his works ', for the Arcadian prose was almost as much a fashion as that of Euphues (cf. note 2. 2. 118). His sonnets have a charm never to be lost, and his Defense is criticism of a high order. Drum- mond records an insignificant but just criticism vol. 9. 366 : ' Sidney did not keep a decorum in making every one speak as well as himself.' Jonson's relations to this ' noble family ' were of the pleasantest ; many of his occasional verses are addressed to them, the most famous being the immortal lines to ' Sidney's sister. Pembroke's mother'. In connection with the pun in the word i82 The Silent Woman [act ii lives C. cites from Samuel Johnson, Prologues on the Opening of Drury Laiie Theatre : The drama's laws the drama's patrons give, For we that live to please, must please to live. And Bacon : ' Help me (dear Sovereign Lord and Master) and pity me so far, as I that have borne a Bag, be not now in my Age forced in effect to bear a Wallet, and I that desire to live by study, may not be driven to study to live.' King, Class, and For. Quot. (1904), no. 674, quotes Auct. Her. 4, 28, 39 : ' Esse oportet ut vivas, non vivere ut edas.' Act II. Scene IIII. 5. worship me. An extravagant expression of the court which Jonson and others ridicule. Cf. -S". 0/ News i. i, p. 169 : Pen. Jr. He brought me the first news of my father's death, I thank him, and ever since I call him founder. Worship him, boys. Mayne, City Match 3. 3 : Fall down And worship sea-coals; for a ship of them Has made you, sir, and heir. Cf. 4. 5- 348. 5-6. forbid the banes. In the eleventh canon of the Synod of Westminster, a. d. 1 200, occurs the earliest allusion to the neces- sity of a notice of intended marriage, which enacts that no mar- riage shall be contracted without banns thrice published in church (Johnson's Canons 2. 91). The existing law of the Church of England is expressed in the sixty- second canon : ' No minister upon pain of suspension,/^/' triennium ipso facto, shall celebrate matrimony between any persons without a faculty or licence granted by some of the persons in these our constitutions expressed, except the banns of matrimony have been read three several Sundays or Holy-days in the time of Divine ' Service in the parish churches and chapels where the said parties dwell.' The only substitute for banns recognized by the Church is an ordinary or special licence. The power of granting the former has belonged to English bishops since 25 Henry VIII 21. The right to grant special licence, belonging to the Archbishop of Canterbury as legatus natus of the Pope, was confirmed by the Marriage Act of 1836, 10. repent me. Reflex, use of verbs now intrans. is common sc. iiii] Notes 183 among writers of this date. Cf. Abbott, § 296. kisse it. Furnivall quotes Florio's expression of disgust for the habit in the latter's edition of Montaigne's Essays (1634), p. 146: 'Let Courtiers first begin to leave off . . . That fond custome to kiss what we present to others, and Beso las manos in saluting of our friends.' 36. off with this visor : ' away with this pretense.' For a detailed history of this word, from its original meaning of a movable part of the helmet, through viask, to pretense cf. W. and their Ways, p. 153. Cat. 5. 4, p. 315 : Cic. Where is thy visor or thy voice now, Lentulus? 51. your cause : i. e. you were the principal cause of my action. 63. inclining to dombe. A peculiar construction, where we would expect a noun after the preposition, and a past partic. rather than a pres. one, Cf. Fielding, Tom Jones 4.2:' Sophia . . . was a middle-sized woman, but inclining to tall.' 98. That 's miracle. The omission of the article before the noun gives it the force of an adj. Cf. Abbott, § 84. 105. cue. A^. E. D. quotes for the origin of this word, IMinsheu (1625) lit. Q, A qu, 'a terme vsed among Stage-plaiers, a Lat. Qualis, at what manner of word the actors are to beginne to speake one after another hath done his speech.' Also Butler (1633) Eng. Gram. Q, * a note of entrance for actors, because it is the first letter of Quando, when, showing when to enter and speak '. Cent. Diet. derives the word from Lat. caiida, OF. coe, Mod. F. queue — the tail of the speech, the last word. 112. lack Daw will not be out. It is a coincidence that Drummond should have said as much of Jonson himself concerning his desire to exercise his wit at all times and on all people. Conv., vol. 9. 416: 'Given rather to losse a friend than a jest.' And so Tucca says of Horace, Poet. 4. i, p. 448 : ' He will sooner lose his best friend than his least jest.' 141. hog-louse. Mosca, like True-wit, drags this unpoetic insect into a simile, Volp. 5. i, p. 289, because it can 'roule itself up '. Was there anything Jonson had not observed, or read of? 143. pick- tooth. An indispensable article in a gallant's para- phernalia, its use as much a part of etiquette as dofiing the hat. For their introduction into England cf. Furnivall in the Babees 184 The Silent Woman [act ii Book, p. 252. The fashion is universally satirized. Every Man Out 4. I, p. 124, Fallace exclaims of Fastidious: 'What a neat case of pick-tooths he carries about him still!' Cyn. Rev. 2. i, p. 248 : Asotus ' walks most commonly with a clove or pick-tooth in his mouth, he is the very mint of compliment.' Earle, Micro-C, says of The Gallant, no. 18:' His Pick-tooth beares a great part in his discourse.' Overbury, Characters, The Courtier : ' If you find him not here, you shall in Paul's, with a pick-tooth in his hat, cape- cloak, and a long stocking.' Ibid. The Affected Traveller : ' His pick-tooth is a main part of his behavior.' Guh Horn-Booke, Pr. Wks. 2. 232 : 'Be scene (for a turne or two) to correct your teeth with some quill or siluer instrument, and to cleanse your gummes with a wrought handkercher.' 148. melancholique. An affectation of the Elizabethan gallant, especially were he in love. In Much Ado 3. 2. 52, the talk is of Benedict : Claud. The sweet youth's in love. D. Pedro. The greatest note of it is his melancholy. L.L.L. I. 2.1, Armado asks : ' Boy, what sign is it when a man of great spirit grows melancholy ? ' And he answers it himself in line 80: 'I am in love.' John Davies, Epig. 47, Meditations of a Gull: See yonder melancholy gentleman Which, hoodwink'd with his hat, alone doth sit ! Life and Death of Lord Cromwell 3. 2 : My nobility is wonderfully melancholy: Is it not most gentlemanlike to be melancholy? Finally, as an analysis of this mood, Burton wrote the book which bears its name. 153. a meere talking mole. Upton and Whalley think ' mole ' should be ' moile '. There is this much to say in favor of their variant, that Jack Daw is more of a talking mule than a blind mole. 'Moile' is used for 'mule' (fol. 16 16) Eveiy Man Out 2. i, p. 59 : ' He was never born to ride upon a moile.' no mush- rome was euer so fresh. The suggestion of this speech is Plautus, Bacch. 4. 7. 23 : lam nihil sapit, Nee sentit; tanti'st, quanti est fungus putidus. sc. iiii] Notes 185 Fungus is explained by Lambinus {Remarks on Epicoene, p. 73), * Insipidus est suapte natura. Itaque a cocis multo pipere et oleo et vino et sale condiri solet. Hinc fungi dicuntur, qui nihil sapiunt.' New knights Jonson likes to designate by the uncomplimentary epithet y««^«x. Every Man Out i. i, p. 36, Macilente rails against Such bulrushes ; these mushroom gentlemen, That shoot up in a night to place and worship. Cat. 2. I, p. 221, Sempronia scorns to 'glorify a mushroom! one of yesterday ! ' Act II. Scene V. 32-3. audacious ornaments. Z. L. Z. 5. i. 5, Sir Nathaniel praises Holofernes as, ' Witty without affectation, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion '. 42. iumpe right. For this verb, cf. Earle, Micro-C. A Flatterer, p. 91: 'All his affections iumpe euen with yours. He wonders how your two opinions should iumpe in that man.' O/-^. I. 3. 5: But though they jump not on a just account, . . . yet do they all confirm A Turkish fleet. Goldsmith, Good Nat. Man 5.1:' Resolutions are well kept when they jump with inclination.' Cf. also Lyly, Campaspe, 1.3: Cr. Thou thinkest it a grace to be opposite against Alexander. DioG. And thou to be iump with Alexander. 68. heicfar. Heifer, used here as yoke-mate. Morose speaks without delicacy. Cf. Judges 14. 18, where Samson alludes to his wife by this term. In Bar. Fair 4. 4, p. 472, Purecraft cries, ' O, that I might be his yoke-fellow ! ' 71. lace- women. Lace was not made in England until the last half of the sixteenth century. The makers were foreigners, generally refugees from Alenfon and Valenciennes, in Cranfield, Bedfordshire, Bucks, Oxfordshire, and Northamptonshire ; Honi- ton lace was first introduced into Devon. As trimming lace was immensely popular at this time. (Traill, Social Eyig. 3. 500.) 72. French intelligences. France was the home of the fashions even before the seventeenth century, as innumerable N i86 The Silent Woman [act ii literary allusions make plain. Cf. the description, D. A. 2. 3, p. 66, which Fitzdottrel gives his wife : I was so employ'd . . . studying For footmen for you, fine-paced huishers, pages. To serve you on the knee ; with what knight's wife To bear your train, and sit with your four women, In council, and receive intelligences From foreign parts, to dress you at all pieces. 77. sleeues. The sleeves of doublets were originally separate articles, joined to the doublet with points. Marston, Dutch CourUzan 3- 3: Mrs. Mulligrub. What, Christian ! my hat and apron : here, take my sleeves. Mulligrub. Whither, in the rank name of madness — whither ? Stubbes thinks the variety of sleeves entirely too great (pp. 74 ff.). 78. cut might mean the slashes made in the gowns through which puffed silk appeared ; or it might mean the general cut or style of a garment, as Marston, Afalcofiten/ {1604) 5. 3 : ' Maquarelle insists, this is a stale cut; you must come in fashion.' For the first cf. Muck Ado 3. 4. 19 : Marg. ' Cloth o' gold, and cuts, and laced with silver, set with pearls, down sleeves, side sleeves, and skirts, round underborne with a bluish tinsel' wire was used to stiffen clothing and to hold the hair in place in the aggressive coiffures of the time. Stubbes, p. 67, attacks the fashion: 'Then foUoweth the training and tricking of their beds in laying out their hair to the shewe, which of force must be curled, frilled, and crisped, laid out (a World to see !) on wreathes & borders from one eare to another. And least it should fall down it is vnder propped with forks, wyers, & I can not tel what, rather like grime sterne monsters, then chaste christian matrons.' Gosson, Pleasant Quippes for New Fangled Gentlewomen (1595), These flaming heads with staring haire. These wyers turnde like homes of ram : These painted faces which they weare, — Can any tell from whence they came? C. has several quotations, Beau, and Fletch., Philaster 2.2:' Here 's no scarlet to blush the sin out it was given for. This wire mine own hair covers,' &c. Middleton, Michaelmas Term 3. i : ' Excellent sc. v] Notes 187 exceeding i' faith ; a narrow-eared wire sets out a cheek so fat and so full ; and, if you be rul'd by me, you shall wear your hair still like a mock-face behind.' ruflfe. In the sixteenth century they were made of muslin or lawn edged with lace, plaited or goffered, and stiffly starched ; they were worn by both men and women. Some, very broad, projected six inches or more in all directions; in Elizabeth's time, that is on Feb. i, 1579, the Queen gave an order to diminish the size of this fashionable neck-gear. Stubbes treats of them pp. 51 ff. and 70 fF. On p. 52 : ' Wot you what ? the deuil, as he in the fulnes of his malice, first inuented these great ruffes, so hath hee now found out also two great stayes to beare vp and maintain that his kingdom of great ruffes . . , certaine kinds of liquid matter which they call Starch . . . the other pillar is a cer- taine deuice made of wyers, crested for the purpose, whipped ouer either with gold, thred, siluer or silk, & this hee calleth a sup- portasse, or vnderpropper.' He rails at them, on p. 70, because they are ' wrought all ouer with needlework, speckled and sparkled here and there with the sonne, the moone, and many other anti- quities '. 79. fanne. Fans seem to have made their appearance in Eng- land when much new finery was seen for the first time, in Elizabeth's reign. Planch^ says : ' They were made of feathers and hung to the girdle by a gold or silver chain. The handles were composed of gold, silver, or ivory of elaborate workmanship, and were sometimes inlaid with precious stones.' Forty pounds was not a high price for a fine one. The folding variety grew into favor under James I. As to the satirists, Gosson condemns them along with busks, stays, hoops, and aprons ; Stubbes fails to count them among abuses; Stow (cf. Harrison, part 2. 34) says: * Womens Maskes, Buskes, Mufs, Fannes, Perewigs, and Bodkins ' were the invention ' in Italy by Curtezans ', and that they came through France into England at the time of the Massacre of St. Bartholomew, Aug. 24, 1572. Gosson, Pleasant Quippes (1595): Were fannes and flappes of feathers fond, To flit away the flisking flies. And taile of mare that hangs on ground, When heat of summer doth arise, The wit of women we might praise For finding out so great an ease. N 3 i88 The Silent Woman [act ii But seeing they are still in hand In house, in field, in church, in street, In summer, winter, water, land. In colde, in heate, in drie, in weet, I iudge they are for wiues such tooles As babies are, in playes, for fooles. 80. skarfe. Stubbes says this silken drapery was both need- less and gaudy (p. 79) : ' Then must they haue their scarfs cast about their faces, and fluttering in the wind, with great lapels at euery end, either of gold or siluer or silk, which they say they wear to keep them from sun-burning.' Cf. Lingua (1607), Haz.-Dods. 9. 426, for an outpouring of words on women's dress similar to that of Morose. 86-7. the seale of being mine. Drake, Sh. and his Times, p. 108, says that the regular betrothal consisted of four parts, the joining of hands, the mutually given kiss, the interchangement of rings, and the testimony of witnesses. Morose is not romantic enough to think of the rings, and in too much of a hurry to bother about witnesses for the betrothal, when the wedding was going to take place at once. It was the general custom to solemnize the wedding forty days after the betrothal. Two G. of Ver. 2. 2. 5 : Julia. Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake. Pro. Why then we'll make exchange ; here take you this. Julia. And seal the bargain with a holy kiss. 96-7. your now-mistris. Here an adv. modifies a noun, as in the modern journalistic phrase, ' the then governor '. 107. tweluepeny ordinary. Cf. note PROL. 26. it knighthood. Abbott, § 228, explains that it is an early provincial form of its, especially used in addressing a child or one spoken to contemptuously. N. E. D. recognizes it as at present a dialectic poss. pron. Cf. 2. 5. in 'it friends', and King John 2. i. 160 : Do, child, go to it grandam, child ; Give grandam kingdom, and it grandam will Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig. 108-9. tell tales for it. Board given free to a good talker was no bad advertisement, say the satirists. Cyn. Rev. 2. i, p. 248, Mercury asserts regarding Amorphus, ' The wife of the ordinary gives him his diet to maintain her table in discourse '. Guls Horn- Booke, p. 241 : ' Let your tongue walke faster then your teeth . . . repeat by heart either some verses of your owne or of any other sc. v] Notes 189 mans, stretching euen very good lines vpon the rack of your cen- sure : though it be against all law, honestie, or conscience, it may chance saue you the price of your Ordinary, and beget you other Suppliments. Marry, I would further intreat our Poet to be in league with the mistress of the Ordinary, because from her (vpon condition that he will but rhyme knights and yong gentlemen to her house, and maintaine the table in good fooling) he may easily make vp his mouth at her cost Gratis^ 109. vacation. These were the idle times in London; cf. note I. I. 50, and Dekker, The Dead Teanne^ Pr. Wks. 4. 24flf. : * For alasse there are certaine Canker- Wormes (called Vacations) that destroy the Trees of my Inhabitants, so soon as euer they beare any Fruite. These Vacations are to mine owne body like long and wasting consumptions.' He says {Pierce Pennylesse, Pr. Wks. I. 96) of the devil, that 'All the vacations you may eyther meet him at dicing Ordinaries'. So Mayne, City Match 2. 6, Roseclap, the master of the ordinary, is asked. How now, Roseclap, Pensive, and cursing the long vacation? 110. Coleharbor — or Cold Harborough — stood to the west of the old Swan Stairs on Upper Thames Street in the parish of All Hallows the less. It was built by a rich City merchant. Sir John Poultney, four times ]\Iayor of London, At the end of the fourteenth century it belonged to John Holland, Duke of Exeter, son of Thomas Holland, Duke of Kent, and Joan Plantagenet, the 'Fair Maid of Kent'. Richard III gave it to the Heralds for their college. They were turned out by Henry VII, who gave the house to his mother, Margaret, Countess of Richmond. His son gave it to the Earl of Shrewsbury, by whose son it was taken down, one knows not why, and mean tenements erected in its place for the river-side working-men, — Bessint, London, 166. When it became a place of sanctuary is not known, nor whether its name signifies a cold bare place of shelter, but references to it as a sanctuary are frequent, Nashe, Have with you to Saffron Walden (1596): 'Or hast thou tooke thee a chamber in Cold Harbour?' Westward Ho \. i,Dram. Wks. 2. 336: Justiniano. 'You swore you would build me a lodging by the Thames side with a water gate to it, or else take me a lodging in Cole Harbour,' Middleton, The igo The Sileitt JVomajt [act ii Black Book, Works, 8.14: ' What ! Is not our house our own Cole Harbour, our castle of come-down and lie-down?' ibid., Tn'ck to catch the Old One has the first scene in Act 4, an apart- ment in ' Cole Harbour '. 113. Cranes. The Three Crazies m the Vhitry is called by mine host of the Black Bear at Cumnor the most topping tavern in London {Kejiilworth i). It was situated in Upper Thames Street at the top of what is still called Three Cranes Lane. Bar. Fair i. i, p. 356: 'A pox on these pretenders to wit! Your Three Cranes, Mitre, and Mermaid-men!' D. A. i. i, p. 12, Iniquity tells what he will do : Nay, boy, I will bring thee to the bawds and the roysters At Billingsgate, feasting with claret-wine and oysters; From thence shoot the Bridge, child, to the Cranes in the Vintry And see there the gimlets, how they make their entry. Pepys, Diary, Jan. 23, 1662, and Sept. 2, 1666, mentions the old tavern : ' Good hopes there was of stopping it [the Fire] at the Three Cranes above, and at Butolph's Wharf below bridge, but the wind carries it into the city.' 113-4. Beare at the Bridge-foot. A famous tavern on the Surrey side, just below old London Bridge, which stood until Dec. 1 76 1, when the shops and houses on the bridge were removed. It is mentioned in the Pur it am, or Widow of Watting Street J^\6ol) : ' By your Beare at the Bridgefoot — even shalt thou.' At the Restoration it was well known. Cf. Pepys, Diary, Feb. 24, 1666-7 ' * Going through Bridge by water, my waterman told me how the mistresse of the Bear tavern, at the Bridge Foot, did lately fling herself into the Thames and drown herself.' And on Apr. 3, 1667, in speaking of the marriage of the Duke of Richmond and Mrs. Stewart, 'He by a wile did fetch her to the Beare at the Bridge-foot, where a coach was ready, and they are stole away into Kent without the King's leave'. be drunk. Drunkenness as it existed in English alehouses, taverns, and inns, is pictured by Stubbes, Anat. of Ab. 107. Earle, Micro-C. no. 12: 'A Tauern is a degree, or (if you will) a pair of stairs aboue an ale-house, where men are drunk with more credit and apology. If the vintner's rose be at the door, it is a sign sufficient, but the absence of this is supplied by the sc. v] Notes 191 ivy-bush.' Burton, ^;;a/. 0/ Mel., p. 373: 'Flourishing wits, and men of good parts, good fashion, and good worth, basely prostitute themselves to every rogue's company, to take tobacco and drink, to roar and sing scurrile songs in base places.' About 30,000 tuns of wine were annually imported into England at this time, half coming from France, and half from Italy and Spain. There was large manufacture at home of hippocras, clary, ales, beers, &c, 118. take vp the commoditie of pipkins. To borrow money by accepting goods instead of coin, and selling these at a low rate for present cash, was a poor venture always, but Morose suggests the most miserable of purchases. Greene, Defense of Conny-Catching, Pr. Wks. 11.53, The borrower ' shal haue grant of money and commodities together, so, that if he borrow a hundred pounds, he shal haue forty in siluer, and threescore in wares, dead stuffe Got wot ; as Lute-strings, Hobby horses, &c.' Dekker, Lanthorne and Candle-Lighi, Pr. Wks. 3. 228 ff., and Seiien Deadly Sinnes, ibid. i. 64: 'These are Vsurers: who for a little money, and a great deale of trash : (as Fire-shouels, browne-paper, motley cloake-bags etc.) bring yong Nouices into a foole's Paradise till they haue sealed the Morgage of their landes . . . Commodities . . . scarce yeeld the third part of that sum for which they take them vp.' Harpagon in Moliere's L'Avare lends money out in the same way. 120. browne bakers widdow. What there was about a brown baker that was belittling I do not know. Strype defines the expression as meaning ' tourte baker '. Cf. Dekker 2 Honest Whore 4. 2 : ' The linen-draper, he that's more patient than a brown baker.' Perhaps a pun is meant. Cf. Davenant, The Wits i. 2 * a poor BroAvnist's widow '. 123. master of a dancing schoole. Greene, Qiiippe for an Vpstart Courtier, Pr. Wks. 11. 292 : 'And for you, master Vsher of the dauncing schoole, you are a leader into all misrule, you instruct Gentlemen to order their feet, when you driue them to misorder their manners, you are a bad fellow that stand vpon your tricks and capers, till you make young Gentlemen caper without their landes : why sir to be flat with you : you liue by your legs, as a iugler by his hands, you are giuen ouer to the pomps and vanities of the world.' Pamphleteers agree in blackening the character of these masters and their schools. Dekker, Deuils 192 The Silent IVotnan [act ii Answer to Pierce Penny lesse, Pr. Wks. i. 109, tells of a gallant on his way to hell, who confesses: 'Had he (the father) set me to Grammar Schoole as I set myself to dauncing schoole instead of treading corantoes and making Fidlers fat with rumps of capon I had by this time read Homilyes '. Cf. Guls Horn-Booke, p. 265, and sermons of Latimer and Babington. How do you call him. 'From the manner in which this is printed in the old copies, I should take it to be personal, and one Howe to be pointed at, as the " worst reveller ".' — G. 126-7. to repaire it selfe by Constantinople, Ireland, or Virginia. The second of these refers to the ' Plantation of Ulster ' by James in 1605 with English landowners; the third to the late Virginia colonies of 1607 and 1609; but the first is hard to explain. Cf. Every Man Out 4. 4, p. 129, where Puntarvolo took a wager of five to one that he would take his cat and his dog to Constantinople and return without accident. G. thinks the allusion to Constantinople occasioned by some happening in the Turkish Company established under Elizabeth. 1 28-9. Dol Teare-sheet, or Kate Common. As various editors have noticed, these two names make one in the next play, the Alchemist, where Dol Common is the colleague and helper of Face and Subtle. In the thieves' cant a 'dol' is classed among the ' autem-morts ', altar or married women. Coleridge had an idea that the name Tearsheet was a misprint for Tear-street, from street- walker, ' terere stratum ' (vtam) ; but it is improbable, despite the evidence of his citation from 2 I/en. IV 2. 2. 181, where the Prince says of Shakespeare's Doll, ' This Doll Tearsheet should be some road '. Act II. Scene VI. 6. what a barbarian it is. The pron. is neuter, as commonly used for masc. Cf. 2. 2. 141, 5. 2. 38, &c. 17-18. zealous brother. This favorite adj. of the Puritans Jonson turned against them whenever occasion offered. News from the New World, vol. 7. 343: i Her. 'Zealous women, that will outgroan the groaning wives of Edinburgh.' His greatest satiric character of the nonconformists is Zeal-of-the-land Busy. 26. doth latino it. Cf infra, \. 53. Abbott, § 226, considers the Elizabethan habit of converting nouns into verbs followed by ;'/. sc. vi] Notes 193 42. smocke sleek'd. C. quotes from Euphues : ' She that hath no glasse to dresse her head will use a bowle of water ; she that wanteth a sleeke stone to smooth her linnen will take a pibble.' Milton, Apology for S?7iectymnus, Pr. Wks. 3. 140 (ed. Bohn) : ' Sure he loved toothlesse satires, which I took were as improper as a toothed sleekstone.' 54-5. Subject . . . Princesse. The absurd fanciful names used by friends, lovers, &c., calls down Jonson's ridicule, Cyn. Rev. 2. I. 57. marshalling of. This intrans. use of this verb has no dictionary authority. 59. Sphinx. Here she is invoked by Dauphine in her character of riddle-propounder. In the masque, Love Freed from Folly, vol. 7. 185, she is treated as the type of ignorance. 60-1. beare-garden. The Bear Garden was on the Bankside, in Southwark, a royal garden or amphitheatre for the exhibition of bear- and bull-baiting. Wh.-C. says Stow first alludes to it in the Survey of 1603 as very popular, 'especially in Bear Garden, on the Bank's side, wherein be prepared scaffolds for beholders to stand upon '. Further on he says, * There be two Bear Gardens, the Old and New Places '. The history of these early Gardens still remains in some obscurity, it being asserted that there were as many as four, ' two amphitheatres shown on the Agas Map (called respectively the Bull Baiting and the Bear Bailing), another at the north of the Bear Garden Lane so called, leading from Maid Lane to the river, and one — the Hope — used also as a playhouse, at the south end of the same lane]'. This Bull Bailing amphitheatre is called on Norden's map of 1593, Bear House, and this, says Ordish, is the fashionable Bear Garden of Jonson's time, and therefore the one here referred to. Cf. also note 3. I. 16. 71. speake him. A Jonsonian invention, the dictionaries recog- nize speak with a direct pers. obj. only as a nautical term, e.g. {Cetil. Did.) Dana, Two Years Before Ihe Masl: 'About six bells, that is three o'clock p.m., we saw a sail on our larboard bow. I was very desirous, like every new sailor, to speak her.' 194 The Silent Woman [act hi Act III. Scene I. 1. pauca verba. The exact significance of this common ex- pression is not understood, but its general meaning is plain. Every Man In 4. i, p. 98, Wellbred says: 'O, the benchers' phrase, pauca verba ', meaning by ' benchers ' the ' tavern drinkers '. Hieronymo in the Spanish Tragedy 3. 14. 118, uses it as 'pocas palabras'. Shakespeare has it in M. W. of W. i. i. 123, 134, where Sir Hugh Evans calls ' Pauca verba, Sir John ; goot worts '. In Tarn, of the Shrew, Induct. 5: Sly. ' Therefore paucaspallabris; let the world slide.' In Z. L. L. 4. 2. 171: Holofernes. 'You shall not say me nay ; pauca verba.' Jonson has it again in the Masque of Atigurs; and Dekker in the Wonderfull Veare, p. 134, has the cobbler ' lay his finger on his mouth, and say, " pauca palabris " '. 4-5. You were best baite me. The omission of lo before batie is explained, Abbott, § 351. 7. shrouetuesday. Cf. note 1. 1. 160 for the day's ceremonies. From the many allusions to Saints' days and Holy days in writers of this period it seems evident that the change from Catholicism to Protestantism had not interfered with public feasts or merry- makings. 8. whitsontide-veluet-cap. Traill, Social England 3. 364, calls attention to the fact that caps, fully wrought in England, had to be worn by almost all persons of six years and upwards, on every Sunday and Holy Day, under penalty of a fine. 10. vnder correction. Like ufider your favor, this was a common qualifying expression. G. explains that ' using these the lie might be given, without subjecting the speaker to the absolute necessity of receiving a challenge'. Z. Z. Z. 5. 2. 488: Costard. Not so, sir ; under correction, sir ; I hope it is not so. Hen. F3. 2. 129 : Flu. Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under your correction, there is not many of your nation — . 12. reported . . . for my humor. Otter's use of this word does not fit the grave interpretation, Every Man Out, Induct., vol. 2. 1 6. sc. i] Notes 195 16. Paris-garden. Perhaps originally Paris from Robert of Paris, or parish from Parish garden, for the Templars constituted part of this land a chapelry, the people crossing the Thames in a barge to worship there. In Jonson's day it was a manor or liberty west of the Clink on the Bankside in Southwark, almost identical with the parish of Christ Church, made from it in 1670-1. It was a garden with many trees ' full of hiding-places ', says Wh.-C, ' with the convenience of river-side landing-places '. As for the bear-garden which took this name, and was the first one on the Surrey side, cf. Ordish, London Theatres, chs. 5, 7, 8. As early as Richard II's time bulls and bears were kept there, and a proclama- tion exists ordering the butchers of London to purchase some ground ' iuxta domum Roberti de Parys ' for their garbage to be dumped upon. When Henslowe and Alleyn leased Paris Garden in Elizabeth's reign, and later in that of James, there were times when it was converted into a theatre. Sunday was the day for bear-baiting under Henry VIII, Mary, and Elizabeth, but James I forbade it on this day ; cf. Arber, Garner, vol. 4. The King's Majesty's Declaration to his Subjects, concerning lawful sports to be vsed (1618). Paris Garden was closed by Parhament in 1642, and, though opened after the Restoration, it was not much frequented. l^u^ioxi, Lo7idon and the Country Carbonadoed (1632), writes of Paris Garden : ' Here come few that either regard their credit or loss of time; the swaggering Roarer, the Cunning Cheater; the rotten Bawd ; the swearing Drunkard, and the bloody Butcher have their rendezvous here, and are of chief place and respect.' Jonson writes again. Execration upon Vulcan, vol. 8. 406 : ' That accursed ground, the Paris-Garden'. Epig. 133, vol. 8. 236 : 'The meat- boat of bear's coUige, Paris-garden '. 29. banke-side. Besant, London, p. 356, says of this southern bank of the Thames that ' in the time of the Tudors it consisted of a single row of houses, built on a dike or levee, higher both than the river at high tide and the ground behind the bank. Before the building of the bank this must have been a swamp covered with water at every tide; it was now laid out in fields, meadows, and gardens. At one end of the Bank Side stood the Clink Prison, Winchester House, and St. Mary Overies Church. At the other 196 The Silent Woman [act hi end was the Falcon Tavern with its stairs, and behind it was placed the Paris-Gardens.' Ibid. p. 362 : ' This place hath an ill name, by reason of evil-doers, who were long permitted to live here — a place notorious for 300 years as the common sink of the city. No reputable citizen would have his country-house and garden on Bank Side.' Master of the garden. Up to 1573 ' the king's bear- ward was an officer of the royal house-hold, having his office or head quarters in Paris Garden, where the animals were kept and nourished by the offal of the city of London, in accordance with a proclamation of Richard II. The office of bear- ward, or master of Paris Garden, became an office of privilege, held by royal letters patent, the profits of the public exhibitions being the rewards or perquisites, in respect of which the grant of the office was made a favour'. — Ordish, London Theatres, pp. 203 ff. Under Elizabeth, Ralph and Edward Bowes were successively masters of the game of Paris Garden ; later the office was held and Paris Garden leased by Henslowe and Alleyn. 32. perfum'd for great ladies. Cf. the following scene between Mrs. Otter and her husband with that in Poei. 2. i. between Chloe and her husband Albinus. Both are preparing to receive courtiers and 'great ladies'. Ibid. 2. i, p. 391 : Chloe. Come bring those perfumes forward a little, and strew some roses and violets here : Fie ! here be roomes savour the most pitifully rank that ever I felt. I cry the gods mercy {sees Albinus), my husband's in the wind of us I instrument. Mrs. Otter means agrceineni. 41-2. stockings, one silke, three worsted. Silk hose were introduced in Elizabeth's time, and worn by the fashionable. The comedies are bristling with comic allusions to the fashion, but we omit them to quote Stubbes, Anai. of Ab., ^i. 57: 'Then haue they nether-stocks to these gay hosen, not of cloth (though neuer so fine) for that is thought too base, but of larnsey, worsted, silk, thred, and such like, or else at the least of the finest yarn that can be, and so curiously knit with open seam down the leg, with quirks and clocks about the ancles, and sometime (haply) interlaced with gold or siluer threds, as is wonderful to behold. And to such insolancy and outrage it is now growen, that euery one (almost) though otherwise verie poor, hauing scarce fortie shillings of wages by the yeer, will be sure to haue two or three paire of these silk sc. i] Notes 197 neither-stocks.' Worsted was a woolen cloth or yarn which took its name from the place of its manufacture, Worstead, in Norfolk, where it was first made about the time of Henry I. 47-8. Easter, or Whitson-holy-daies. For Easter celebra- tions cf. Brand, Pop. Antiq. 1. 161, 280 ff.; Drake, Sh. and his Times, pp. 85 flf. The whole week succeeding Easter was Eastertide, and was given to various pastimes, games of hand-ball, dancing, feasts, &c. At Whitsuntide the rural sports and feasting resembled May-Day, and included Whitsun-ales. Sometimes a Lord of Misrule was elected, and the merry-making took place in the churchyard on a Sabbath-day. 48-9. banqueting-house. Doubtless the one at Whitehall, where masques and other royal entertainments were held. Jonson's Pltaszire reconciled io Virtue was performed there on Twelfth Night, 16 17- 18; Nepiunes Tritiviph in 1623, &c. C. says that on holy- days bears were baited in the courtyard for the amusement of the populace; from the context here such an inference is easily reached. 49. Ned Whiting, or George Stone. Bears at this time generally carried the names of their owners. These must have been well known, for there is a reference to the second of them in the Pttriiane, or Widow of Wailiiig Street (1607) 3. 6: Idle. Arrested, George? Pye. Arrested. Guess, guess, — how many dogs do you think I had upon me ? Idle. Dogs ? I say, I know not. Pye. Almost as many as George Stone, the bear; three at once, three at once. Sir John Davy's Epigrains names two other bears in describing a lawyer who forsakes the court : and for his recreation To Paris Garden doth himself withdraw . . . Leaving old Plowden, Dyer, and Brooke alone To see old Harry Hunks and Sarcasson. 54. vellet. This word is variously written by Jonson. Mrs. Otter calls it veluet 3. i. 8; here she says vellet; she says veluet again, 3. 2. 76; and in 5, i. 53 La-Foole uses vellet. On the ety- mology of velvet, velure, Mr. Henry Nicol says : ' The second v of velvet is an alteration of iv {velwet, Promptorium), and this of u. igS The Silent Woman [act hi That the n of ME. veluel formed a separate syllable is shown by the meter of Chaucer : And CO I uered it | with ve | lu et | tes blew | e. Squire's Tale 644. ME. veluei comes from OF. veluei . . . corresponds to a hypo- thetical Latin vilhitittum, being a diminutive of Fr. velu . . . primitive Lat. villus' 58. behaue . . . distinctly. Mrs. Otter's language seems Malapropian, though C. maintains that the expression is used in Scotland. Act III. Scene II. 8. tosts, and butter. This unkind cut at Otter is explained by Falstaff s use of the term in regard to his gallant soldiers. 1 Hen. IV 4. 3. 20 : ' I pressed me none but such toasts-and- butter, with hearts in their bellies no bigger then pins' heads.' 9. wood-cocks. Another unkind epithet, meaning ' simpleton '. Guls Horn-Booke, Prooemium, defines them as ' Excellent birds . . . commonly called wood-cocks (whereof there is great store in Eng- land) having all their feathers plukt from their backs '. In Hamlet i. 3. 114, Polonius warns his daughter against 'springes to catch woodcocks'. L.L.L. 4. 3. 82, Biron exclaims at the revelation of the intrigue : ' Dumain transformed ! four woodcocks in a dish ! ' Z). yi. 2. i, p. 39 : Meercraft. ' Tell Master Woodcock, I'll not fail to meet him.' i Honest Whore i. 5, Candido is dubbed by Viola ' Woodcock '. 10. tyrannie. Cf. note 2. 2. 73, and Cyii. Rev. 2. i, p. 248 : Mercury. ' The wife of the ordinary gives him his diet to maintain her table in discourse ; which, indeed, is a mere tyranny over her other guests.' Poet. 3. i, p. 411, Horace says of Crispinus: * This tyranny is strange to take mine ears up by commission (whether I will or no).' The impersonal is used for the personal word again in 3. 3. 74 ' colledge-Honors ', and in 'wedlock' for 'wife' Poet. 4. I, p. 445, and D. A. i. 3. 27. 15. Anabaptist. The original name of those nonconformists who held baptism in infancy to be invalid, and required adults to be re-baptized on joining their communion, but the name is best known historically as applied to the followers of Thomas Miinzer, a leader sc. ii] Notes 199 of the peasants' war in Germany, who was killed in battle in 1525, and to those of John Matthias and John Bockold, or John of Leyden, who committed great excesses while attempting to estab- lish a socialistic kingdom of New Zion in Westphalia. The name was early applied opprobriously to all rejecters of the AngHcan doc- trine as to sacraments and holy orders. 35. idolaters. Another of the many instances in which Jonson derides the language of court compliment. Cat. 2. i, p. 222, Sempronia says of Quintus Curius to Fulvia : ' Thy idolater, I call him'. 38. O no, sir : Omnia bene. The Lat. phrase begins a schoolboy rhyme : Omnia bene, sine poena, tempus est ludendi. Absque mora venit hora libros deponendi. All things go well, the hour for play, No fear of rod, so book away. 42. What is he, for a vicar. Abbott, § 148, likens 'for' in the sense of ' considered as ' to the Ger. Was fur ein. Cf. Spenser, Shep. Cal. 4. 17 : ' What is he for a ladde ? ' Much Ado i. 3. 49 : ' What is he for a fool ? ' Ram Alley, Haz.-Dods. 10. 355 : ' What is he for a man ? ' 44-5. bull-rush, that were not pickt. For the use of * were ' for ' was ' in dependent clauses, cf. Abbott, § 301. 46. barber of prayers. C. quotes Rabelais's description of Friar John as esiropier des Heures. 58. phisiognomy of the fellow. Sheridan gives this word to Mrs. Malaprop, Rivals 4. 2 : ' His physiognomy so grammatical ! ' 59. I had a dreame. 'Belief in dreams was most common. Brand, Pop. Antiq. 2. 134 ff. gives an account of interpretations and interpreters. Shakespeare has many allusions to this and allied superstitions : Mer. of Ven. 2. 5. 17 ; Rom. and Jul. 5. i. 2 ; Troil and Cress. 5. 3. 6. Lyly, Sapho and Phao 4. 3 : IsMENE. I dreamed mine eye-tooth was loose, and that I thrust it out with my tongue. MiLETA. It foretelleth the losse of a friend ; and I ever thought thee so full of prattle, that thou wouldst thrust out thy best friend with thy tatling. 60. new pageant, and my lady Maioresse. Pageants were 20O The Silent Woman [act hi given on Lord Mayor's day, on the occasion of the procession of any of the twelve companies, on an ambassador visiting Guild Hall, or on any occasion decided by royalty. Of the first, which is here referred to, Besant quotes, London, p. 226: 'Search all chronicles, all histories, and records, in what language or letter soever, let the inquisitive man waste the deere treasures of his time and eyesight, he shall conclude his life only in the certainty that there is no subject received into the place of his government with the like style and magnificence as is the Lord Mayor of the city of London.' Thornbury, Sh. Eng. 2. 390 ff., gives a lively description of the gala attire of the spectators, of the decorations of the city streets and houses, ' of the crafts of London in their liveries, and the Lord Mayor in his chain, and the aldermen in scarlet.' A brief, complete history is given by Ward, Eng. Dram. Lit. i. 148 : ' These city pageants continued in favour till the outbreak of the Great Civil War, when the very maypoles were extirpated by command of Parliament. They were revived shortly before the Restoration, but without their former dignity ; and about the beginning of the eighteenth century sank to the level at which they still await their complete extinction.' 62-3. China stuffes. Cf. note i. 3. 38. 63. Artemidorvs. The dream interpreter was born at Ephesus, early in the second century a. d. He wrote a work on the interpretation of dreams, the 'OveipoKpiTmd in four books. His material was taken from written authorities and from facts learned during travel in Asia, Italy, and Greece. Cf. Reichart, Be Artemi- doro Daldtano (1893). 64-5. done me many aflfronts. Do used trans, with an obj. noun is noticed by Abbott, § 303. N. E. D. makes this expression ' to put an affront upon', or ' to offer an affront io\ Cf. Alchem. 2. 2, p. 49 : ' This day thou shalt have ingots and, tomorrow, give lords the affront.' Z). ^. 3. i, p. 77. 76. doublet. Stubbes objects to women wearing doublets and jerkins cut after the fashion of men, An. 0/ Ad., p. 73, and on pp. 56ff. : *I say nothing of what their doublets be made, some of Saten Taffatie, silk, Grogram, Chamlet, gold, siluer, & what not ; slashed, lagged, cut, carued, pincked, and laced with all kinds of costly lace of diuers and sundry colours.' 91. sir Amorovs his feast. For this form of the genitive cf. sc. ii] Notes 201 Jonson's English Grammar, ch. 13 in vol. 9. 275 of C.-G. text. There he calls it the ' monstrous syntax of the pronoun his joining with a noun betokening a possessor ; as the prince his house, for the princess house'. Yet he uses it not seldom. Cf. Epiccene, in ' Persons of the Play ', ' Mute, one of Morose his seruants ' ; Sejanu.s his Fall; Horace his Art of Poetry; and the unfinished play Mortimer his Fall. Abbott, §217: ' His was sometimes used by mistake, for 's . . . particularly after a proper name, and with especial frequency when the name ends in s! Act III. Scene III. 38. but take you no notice but, &e. A carelessly made sentence; cf Abbott, §§ii8 and 130. 56. told him his owne. An elliptical phrase much like 'to hold one's own '. Field uses it \Xi Ainends for Ladies 5. 2; Haz.- Dods. II. 164: 'I have the most to-do to forbear unmasking me, that I might tell him his own.' C^.fohn 1.2:* He came unto his own.' 61. I'll make one: i.e. join in the plan. Cf. M. W. of W. 2. 3. 48, Shallow speaks : ' Bodykins, Master Page, though I now be old and of the peace, if I see a sword out, my finger itches to make one.' Twelfth Night 2. 5. 225 : Mar. If you will see it, follow me. Sir Toby. To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit. Sir Andrew. I'll make one too. 64. siluer dishes. A few years before plate was an unwonted luxury in a citizen's family, but by the time James came to the throne wooden table-implements had been entirely replaced by pewter or silver, and among a few of the very rich by those of gold. Cf. The Tarn, of the Shrew 2. i. 65-6. clap mee a cleane towell. Mee is an ethical dat. (Abbott, § 220), a construction which causes a play on words in Tarn, of the Shrew i. 2. 8 : Pet. Villain, I say, knock me here soundly. Gru. Knock you here, sir 1 Why, sir, what am I, sir, that I should knock you here, sir ? Pet. Villain, I say, knock me at this gate, And rap me well. O 202 The Silent Woman [act hi 68. second : i. e. ' assist ', an inexact use of second. 75. health drunke as . . . bare. The custom of drinking healths Brand {Pop. Aniiq. 2. 338) bases on classic usage, quoting from Martial Epig. i. 72. 1-2 : Six cups to Naevia's health go quickly round, And be with seven the fair Justina 's crown'd. To bare the head was always a sign of respect; cf. D. A. 4. i, p. 98: Lady T. Have with them for the great caroch, six horses, And the two coachmen, with my Ambler bare. Mag. Lady 2. i, p. 36 : Her gentleman-usher, And cast-off pages, bare. It was done always at times when drinking healths. 2 Honest Whore 1.3: LoD. Since his cap 's round, that shall go round. Be bare For in the cap's praise all of you have share. ( They bare their heads and drink.) Ward (1636), Woe to Drunkards, p. 543, speaks of the pot-wits and spirits of the buttery, ' who never bared their knees to drinke healthes, nor ever needed to whet their wits with wine, or arme their courage with pot-harnesse '. 84. one noyse of fldlers. A noise was a company of fiddlers or trumpeters, who attended taverns, ordinaries, &c. C. says they were generally three in number, and took their name from the leader, as ' Mr. Sneak's noise ', ' Mr. Creak's noise ', ' Mr. Spindle's noise'. Tale of a Tub i. 2, p. 134: 'Press all noises of Finsbury, in our name.' Bar. Fair 3. i, p. 421 : Cakes. 'A set of these violins I would buy too, for a delicate young noise I have in the country, that are every one a size less than another, just like your fiddles.' Gip. Metamor., vol. 7. 390 : ' The king has his noise of gipsies, as well as of bearwards and other minstrels.' 2 Hen. IV 2. 4. 13 : * See if thou canst find out Sneak's noise. Mistress Tearsheet would fain have some music' Strolling fiddlers, gaining a precarious living at street corners, at taverns, or private feasts, are a popular subject of satire. Dek- ker, Seuen Deadly Sinnes, classes them with ' Anglers, Dumb Ministers, Players, Exchange-Wenches, Gamesters, Panders, sc. Ill] Notes 203 Whores ', and makes them attendants of Sloth. Rauens Almanacke, Pr. Wks. 4. 192: 'O you common Fidlers Ukewise that scrape out a poore Huing out of dryed Cats guts : I prophecie that many of you shall this yeare be troubled with abhominable noises and singing in your head and those that suruiue shall feede vpon melody for want of meate, playing by two of the clock in a frostie morning vnder a window, and then bee mock'd with a shilling tyed (through a hole) to a string, which shall be throwne to make it Jingle in your ears, but presently be drawne vp againe, whilst you rake in the dust for a largesse.' 85. trumpeters. Their picture is drawn by Earle, Micro-C. no, 48, A Trumpeter. ' His face is as brazen as his Trumpet, and (which is worse) as a Fidlers, from whom he differeth only in this, that his impudence is dearer . . . Hee was whilome the sound of warre, but now of Peace; yet as terrible as euer, for where- soeuer hee comes they are sure to pay for it. He is the common attendant of glittering folkes, whether in the Court or Stage, where he is alwaies the Prologues Prologue.' 87. correspondence. It is always preceded with a modifying adj. as here, and in Sej. 5. 4, p. 122 : Sej. ' You, Pomponius, hold some good correspondence with the Consul.' Marston, Malcon- tent 2. 2 : Malevole. ' Only let 's hold together a firm correspon- dence.' 112. captaine Otter. Otter's title is of the sort characterized in W. is a Weathercock 1.2: Abra. a soldier, sir ? O God ! Ay, he is a captain. Strange. He may be so, and yet no soldier, sir ; For as many are soldiers, that are no captains. So many are captains, that are no soldiers. 124. Pasiphae, &c. The frequent use of Latin phrase pJr story gives occasion to a quotation from Drake, Sh. and his TinySs, p. 219: ' Everything was tinctured with ancient history and Diiythology. — When the queen paraded through a country town,/ almost every pageant was a pantheon. When she paid a visit' at the house of any of her nobility, at entering the hall she w?is saluted by the Penates, and conducted to her privy-chamber t/>y Mercury. Even the pastry-cooks were expert mythologists. At dinner select transformations of Ovid's Metamorphoses we-re exhibited in con- fectionary : and the splendid iceing of an irriniense historic plum- O 2 204 ^^^ Silent Woman [act iii cake was embossed with a delicious basso-relievo of the destruction of Troy.' So Otter's suggestion that the Bear Garden be decorated with the subjects of Clerimont's stories is ludicrous for more than one reason. 128. that I could ha' said as much. In the age when men consciously endeavoured to be wits, envy of another's quickness of thought became one of the subjects of satire. Cf. Littlewit's jealousy of Winwife in Bar. Fair i. i, p. 358: 'Good, i' faith ! now dulness upon me, that I had not that aiore him, that I could not light on't as well as he ! ' Act III. Scene II 1 1. 1. brace of angels. The appearance of this word, abbre- viated from the coin's full designation, the angel-noble, is generally the signal for a pun. Tale of a Tub i. 3, p. 137 : Pre. There are a brace of angels to support you. 3-4. thanke fortune, double to nature. Thank chance twice for a good result where you thank a reasonable cause but once. 10. catches with, cloth-workers. Cloth- workers came to England from various foreign countries : the Protestant woolen- weavers from the Netherlands, 4,000 of them, to Sandwich, Nor- wicii, and Norfolk in 156 1-5 ; weavers of silk chiefly from France. In London the cloth-workers made up the twelfth of the twelve great liveried companies or guilds. That weavers were noted for their singing is held by Thomas Ratcliffe in an interesting note in Notes and Queries, loth Series, 2. 194, and is supported by such 1 '-•'=; fe re nces as those in i Hen. IV 2. 4. 145: Fals. 'I would I wei -e a weaver ; I could sing psalms or anything.' Twelfth Night 2. 3- S^'^. : ' Shall we rouse the night-owl in a catch, that will draw three souls out of one weaver ?' 23. cough out the rest. This vulgarism, still occasionally heard, I find us\(^(j again in a letter concerning the Princess Eliza- beth from Sir Ro^?^ert Tyrwhit to the Lord Protector : ' If your Grace did know all my toersuasion with her, — your Grace would not a little marvel that sht,^ ^^u ^q mote cough out matter than she doth.' 31. a waterman,^_ 'phg rowers of the Thames barges were notoriously loud of t^j^gue and rough of speech. Sitting on the river-stairs they dispui-gd for passengers, and, the journey done. sc. iiii] Notes 205 they wrangled about their fees. Their shouts to draw custom to their particular boat were unceasing. Their cries gave names to the comedies Northward Ho, Eastward Ho, Westward Ho, and Oars or Sculls. Dekker, Deuils Answer to Pierce Penny lesse, Pr. Wks. 2. 117, claims that at the Thames you are 'bayted by whole kennels of yelping watermen ... at Westminster bridge, and ready to be torne to peeces to haue two pence towed out of your purse '. Overbury, Characters, A Waterman, ' He keeps such a bawling at Westminster, that if the lawyers were not acquainted with it an order would be taken with him ' ; cf. also the lines devoted to him in Turner's Dish of Stuff, and Bar. Fair 5. 3, where the puppet play is a satire on watermen. Besant, London 368, estimates that in 1603 there were 2,000 boats and 3,000 boatmen on the river. There is knowledge to be gained of them through their poetic brother, John Taylor ' the Water Poet,' who published his poems in 1633. 38. a motion . . . one of the French puppets. Strutt, Sports and Past., p. 143, speaks thus of the introduction of mario- nettes : ' It is highly probable, that necessity suggested to him (the tragitour) the idea of supplying the place of his human con- federates by automaton figures made of wood, which, by means of wires properly attached to them, were moved about, and performed many of the actions peculiar to mankind ; and, with the assistance of speeches made for them behind the scenery, produced that species of drama commonly distinguished by the appellation of a droll, or a puppet-play; wherein a facetious performer, well known by the name of Punchinello, supplied the place of the Vice, or mirth maker, a favorite character of the moralities.' The best account of the motions and allied entertainments is Chambers's Mediaeval Stage, 2. 149 ff. In Fleet Street the motions might always be found, but at the fairs were collected the greatest numbers. Their subjects can be seen from the following: Every Man Out 2. i, p. 64 : ' They say, there's a new motion of the city of Ninevah, with Jonas and the whale, to be seen at Fleet-bridge.' Marston, Dutch Courtezan 3. i : Beat. A motion, sister. Crisp. Ninevah, Julius Caesar, Jonas, or the destruction of Jerusalem. 39-40. innocent out of the hospitall. As illustrating the use 2o6 The Silent Woman [act hi of this word for ' idiot ' W. copied from a parish church register, 'Thomas Sole, an innocent, about the age of fifty years and upward, buried 19th September, 1605 '. But the word is frequent in old plays. Field, Aviendsfor Ladies i. i, Haz.-Dods. 9. 102 : Fee. When I was a child, an infant, an innocent — Maid, (aside) 'Twas even now. Interlude 0/ the Four Elements, Haz.-Dods. i. 42 : Nay, God forbid ye should do so. For he is but an innocent In manner of a fole. Lear 3.6.9 {addressing the fool) : Edg. Pray, innocent, and beware the foul fiend. 41. a playse mouth: i.e. twisted. Dekker, 2 Honest Whore 2. I : ' I should have made a wry mouth at the world like a playse.' Nashe, Lenten Stuff: ' None woone the day but the Herring, whom all their clamorous suffrages saluted Vive le Roy, save only the playse and the butte, that made wry mouthes at him, and for their mocking have wry mouths ever since.' Nares gives an example from T. Lodge, Beloe's Anecdotes 2. 115 : This makes Amphidius welcome to good cheer And spend his master fortie pounde a yeere. And keep his plaise-mouth'd wife in welts and gardes. 54. coaeted. C. quotes an example of this harsh and unusual word, Fabyan, vol. i, ch. 140: 'But that was to theyr harme, for they lost the feeld, and were coaeted to flee.' Act III. Scene V. 1 0. tlie owle. For some centuries the belief that the owl and raven mean bad luck to the beholder has been a popular super- stition. Brand, Pop. Antiq. 3. 206, discusses the ill-omened owl. Chaucer, Asse^nbly of Foules 235 : The jelous swan, ayenst his deth that singeth, The owle eke, that of deth the bode bringeth. Spenser, Faerie Queene i. 9. 33. 6: On top whereof aye dwelt the ghastly owle, Shrieking his baleful note. sc. v] Notes 207 Com. of Err. 2. 2. 192 : We talk with goblins, owls and sprites; If we obey them not, this will ensue, They'll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue. Rich. Ill \. 4. 509: Rich, Out on you, owls ! nothing but songs of death ? 16. night-crow. Another much feared bird; cf. Brand, ibid. 3. 211 ff. 3 Hen. F/5. 6. 45: The night-crow cried, aboding luckless time. Marston, 2 Antonio and Mellida i. i : 'Tis yet dead night . . . No spirit moves upon the breast of earth. Save howling dogs, night crows, and screeching ovvles. Save meagre ghosts, Piero, and black thoughts. C. calls attention to Newman's Night-Crow ; a Bird that breedeth Brawles in many Families and Householdes, &c. (1590). 24-5. the conduit or the bake-house, or the infant'ry that follow the court. These exemplify places where crowds of people, often low enough company, might be found. In S. of Nevus 3. 2, p. 246, the gossips criticize the legalized news: Tat. I have better news from the bakehouse, by ten thou- sand parts, in a morning ; or the conduits in Westminster. Massinger, Parliament of Love 4. 5 : Live to be wretched ; live to be the talk Of the conduit and the bakehouse. Traill, Sac. Eng. 3. 575, writes of the first of these news centers: 'Familiar sights in London streets were the conduits of water flowing at the junction of thoroughfares, the water carriers or "cobs" with their casks of water, selling to those who preferred not to go to the conduit for it.' There was the oft-mentioned Great Conduit in Cheap near its junction with the Poultry; the Little Conduit at the West End facing Foster Lane and the Old 'Change. G. explains that the infantry were the lower order of servants and followers necessary to the court train, described by Webster in the White Devil, vol. 2. 160: 'A lousy knave, that within this twenty years rode with the black-guard in the duke's carriages, amongst spits and dripping pans.' Further reference to the conduits may be found in Stow, Survey i. 49, and in Rye, Eng. as seen by 2o8 The Silent Woman [act hi Foreigners (ed. 1865), p, 8. The news centers at the conduits were to soon disappear, for in the year Epiccene was written the New River for the supply of water was begun, May 1609, and opened Michaelmas day 16 13 by Hugh Myddleton, a private citizen and goldsmith. 27. lippis & tonsoribus notum. Horace, Sat. i. 7. 3: 'Omni- bus et lippis notum et tonsoribus esse' — to be known to everybody, to all the world. 33. my eaters? my mouthes. The list of epithets heaped upon servants seems as long as the sorts of ill treatment to which they were subject. Especially are they scored for great appetite and little industry, as in the case of runaway Launcelot, Mer. of Ven. 2. 5 : Shy. Thou shalt not gormandise, As thou hast done with me: — what, Jessica! — And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out. Every Man Out 5. i, p. 159 : Punt. ' I, like a dull beast, forgot to bring one of my cormorants to attend me.' Lear 2. 2. 14: Osw. What dost thou know me for? Kent. A knave ; a rascal ; an eater of broken meats ; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave. Ant. and Chop. 3. 13. 106: Ha! Have I my pillow left unpress'd in Rome, Forborne the getting of a lawful race, And by a gem of women, to be abused By one that looks on feeders? Other similar names for servants are in Davenant, The Wits 3. i : ' Tall eaters in blue coats ; ' Fletcher, Nice Valour 3.1:' Servants he has, lusty tall feeders.' Even Simion Eyre in Dekker's Shoemaker s Holiday calls his men in like terms : ' Where be these cannibals, these varlets, my officers ? ' Massinger, New Way to Pay Old Debts 1.3: Why you slaves. Created only to make legs and cringe. To carry in a dish and shift a trencher. That have not souls, only to hope a blessing, Beyond black jacks or flagons. You that were born Only, to consume meat, and drink and fatten Upon reversions. sc. v] Notes 209 48. humor, and silence of the night. Humor may have been suggested by the word used in the source, Libanius, ' media et intempesta nox'. Jonson gives night the same designation in The Vision of Delight, vol. 7. 284: Delight. Our sports are of the humorous Night, Who feeds the stars that give her light. And Spenser, Faerie Queene i. i. 36: The drouping night thus creepeth on them fast And the sad humour loading their eye liddes, . . . Sweet slumbering deaw, 49-50. iollities of feast, of musique, of reuells. Brand, Pop. Aniiq. 2. 133-41, describes the various ceremonies customary at a wedding. The service was generally performed in the church ; the party came home with music, feasted in a house decorated with flowers and draperies, and danced, or, if the family were noble, preceded the dance with a masque. Jonson suggests some of these details Epiccene 3. 6. Strutt, Manners and Customs i. 76, concludes that after the feast ' the remaining part of the day was spent by the youth of both sexes in mirth and dancing, while the graver sort sat down to the drinking bout in which they highly dehghted'. 51. your Hymen. Hymen or Hymenaeus, the Greek god of marriage, came in Elizabeth's time to have the meaning here given the word, ' marriage ' or * wedding ', a meaning which is now very rare. 62. citterne. An instrument of this kind was in every barber's shop. Larwood and Hotten, History 0/ Signboards, p. 343, quote from Tom Brown in his Amusements for the Meridian of London'. ' A cittern and a barber is as natural as milk to a calf or the bears to be attended by a Bagpiper.' The cittern is also mentioned by Ned Ward : ' I would sooner hear an old barber ring Whit- tingtons Bells upon a cittern.' G. refers to the following. Middleton, Mayor of Quinborough 3. 3: 'I gave that barber a fustian suit, and twice redeemed his cittern.' Dekker, 2 Honest Whore, 5. 2 : 'A barber's cittern for every serving-man to play upon.' And in Defence of the Female Sex, the writer observes of a virtuoso, that ' his inventory can be no more compleat without two or three remarkable signatures, than an apothecary's shop without a tortoise and a crocodile, or a barber's without a battered cittern.' Cf. also 'Kxn^h.i, London i. 142. 2IO The Silent Woman [act hi 64. Egypts ten plagues. Cf. Exodus 7 ff. 68. get the poxe with seeking to cure it. The French pox, Morbus Gallictis, called in England simply ' the pox '. Cf. Creighton, History of Epidemics in Britain i. 414 ff. Cutbeard's interest is explained by the scene at the barber's in Beaum. and Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle 4. 4 ; or Hall, Virgidemiarum 4. i. 162. In the time of Henry VIII, 320, c. 42 (1540), the barber and surgeon was distinguished from the physician ; the barber's sphere of activity was limited to minor cases like blood-letting, and to such work as a dentist now does ; physicians were at the same time prohibited from 'barbery' or shaving. Henry VIII founded the ' Faculty of Physic at Oxford and Cambridge, and the College of Physicians in London'. Cf. Traill, Social Eng. 3. 151. Earle, Micro-C. no. 42 : 'A Surgeon differs from a Physitian as a sore do's from a disease, or the sicke from those that are whole, the one distempers you within, the other blisters you without.' Barbers were finally separated into distinct corporations by George II in 1745. 70. lock. The fantastic hair-dressing indulged in by the fashionable men of the time is inveighed against by Dekker, Guls Horn-Booke, ch. 3 ; by Stubbes, Anat. of Ab., esp. part 2. 50 ; by Prynne, Unlovliness of Love-locks ; and by Hall, On the Loath- someness of long Hair. Shakespeare, through Brabantio, 0th. I. 2. 68, speaks of ' The wealthy curled darlings of our nation', and the First Watchman in Much Ado 3. 3. 182 : ' One deformed is one of them : I know him ; 'a wears a lock.' Davenant, Love and Honour 2. i : 'A lock on the left side, so rarely hung with ribanding; ' and Lyly, My das 3. 2 : ' How will you be trimmed, sir?, Will you have your beard Hke a spade, or a bodkin? A pent- house on your upper Hp, or an alley on your chin? A low curie on your heade like a ball, or dangling locks like a spaniell? Your mustachoes sharp at the ends Hke shoemakers aules, or hanging downe to your mouth like goates flakes? Your love- locks wreathed with a silken twist, or shaggie to fall on your shoulders ? ' 73. shop. Scott's Fortunes of Nigel, ch. 21, has a description of the shop of Benjamin Suddlechop, the Fleet Street barber, which is excellent in its detail. 75. balles. Soap seems only to have been molded into this sc. v] Notes 211 shape. Mag. Lady 2. i, p. 48: Boy. 'A half-witted barbarian, which no barber's art, or his balls, will ever expunge or take out.' Gyp. Meiamor., vol. 7. 406 : An ointment . . . yet without spells, By a mere barber, and no magic else, It was fetch'd off with water and a ball. Marston, Dutch Courtezan 3. 3 : Cocledemoy. ' A ball to scour — a scouring ball — a ball to be shaved ! ' He uses this as a vender's cry when in disguise. Dekker, Seuen Deadly Sinnes, Pr. Wks. i. 62, addresses: 'O you that bandie away none but sweete washing Balles, and cast none other then Rose-waters for any mans pleasure.' Stubbes enters them among the Abuses, part 2. 50, not because they made for cleanliness, surely, but because they were perfumed: ' Then shall your mouth be bossed with lather, or fome that riseth of the balles (for they haue their sweete balles wherewith-all they vse to washe) ; your eyes closed must be anointed therewith also. Then snap go the fingers, ful brauely, got wot.' 84. earning lanternes in paper. Cheap lanterns were made of paper rather than horn. In The Ordinary i. 2, Haz.-Dods. 12. 220, Slicker likens Poduck's face to * an oil'd paper-lantern'. Selden, Table Talk, under Religion, p. 104 : ' Religion is made a Juggler's Paper ; now 'tis a Horse, now 'tis a Lanthorn, now 'tis a boar, now 'tis a man. To serue Ends Religion is turn'd into all Shapes.' 85. no baud carted. ... to employ a bason of his. When bawds and other infamous persons were carted, it was usual for a mob to precede them, beating metal basins, pots, and other sounding vessels, to increase the tumult, and call the spectators together. So Bar. Fair 4. 3, p. 465 : Urs. You know where you were taw'd lately ; both lash'd and slash'd you were in Bridewell. Alice. Ay, by the same token you rid that week, and broke out the bottom of the cart. Cf. New Inn 4. 3, p. 384; Stow, Survey 5. 317. 90. Eat eare-waxe. Brand, Pop. Antiq. 2. 361, explains that * It was formerly part of a barber's occupation to pick the teeth and ears. So in the old play of Herod and Antipater, 1622, Tryphon the barber enters with a case of instruments, to each of which he addresses himself separately : 212 The Silent Woman [act hi Toothpick, dear toothpick ; earpick, both of you Have been her sweet companions ! ' I'll helpe you. True-wit is ready to aid Morose in devising imaginary punishments for the tell-tale barber. The same self- conscious putting of wits together for the pleasure of inventing abuse occurs in Volp. i, r, p. 192, when Mosca is deriding Volpone to Corvino, and his images become exhausted : ' Nay, help, sir!' and Corvino complies; also Alchem. i. i, p. 21 : 'Your Sol, and Luna, — Help me.' 90-1. draw his owne teeth. Together with the occupations of shaver, hair-dresser, and surgeon already mentioned, the barber combined that of dentist. Dekker, Lanthorne and Candle- Light, Pr. Wks. 3. 273: 'Some of the Horse-hunters, are as nimble Knaues in finding out the infirmities of a lade, as a Barber is in drawing of teeth.' 99. a rag left him, to set vp with. In his work as a letter of blood the barber had need of such paraphernalia. Brand, Pop. Antiq. 2. 359, quotes from Gay, Fables i. 22, The Goat without a Beard : His pole with pewter basins hung, Black rotten teeth in order strung, Rang'd cups that in the window stood, Lin'd with red rags to look like blood, Did well his three fold trade explain. Who shav'd, drew teeth, and breath'd a vein. 105. new-paint his pole. The significance of the barber's pole, still so common a sign in our own day, has been much discussed. I subjoin the account of Larwood and Hotten, History of Signboards, and that of Brand, Pop. Atitiq. The former, p. 341, write : ' The barber's pole . . . dates from the time when barbers practiced phlebotomy : the patient undergoing this operation had to grasp the pole in order to make the blood flow more freely. This use of the pole is illustrated in more than one illuminated MS. As the pole was of course liable to be stained with blood, it was painted red : when not in use, barbers were in the habit of suspending it outside the door with the white linen swathing- bands twisted around it ; this in latter times gave rise to the pole being painted red and white, or black and white, or even with red, white, and blue lines winding around it. It was stated by sc. v] Notes 213 Lord Thurlow in the House of Peers, July 17, 1797, when he opposed the Surgeon's Incorporation Bill, that by a statute still in force the barbers and surgeons were each to use a pole, the barbers were to have theirs blue and white striped, with no other appendage ; but the surgeons . . . were to have a gallipot and a red flag in addition, to denote the particular nature of their vocation.' Brand, Pop. Antiq. 2. 359: 'The barber's pole has been the subject of many conjectures, some conceiving it to have originated from the word poll or head, with several other conceits as far- fetched and as unmeaning; but the true interpretation of that parti-coloured staff was to show that the master of the shop practiced surgery, and could breathe a vein as well as mow a beard. Such a staff being to this day, by every village practitioner, put into the hand of a patient undergoing the operation of phlebotomy. The white band, which encompasses the staff, was meant to represent the fillet thus elegantly twined about it. ... That this is a very ancient practise, appears from an illumination in a missal of the time of Edward the First in the possession of Mr. Wild.' 116. a colliers throat. True-wit implies that it would be degrading to hang for killing so insignificant and rascally a person as a collier. Dekker, Seuen Deadly Sinnes, has Lying enter the city unseen among 'Colliers with carts most sinfully leaden'. Greene, Quippe/or an Vpstart Courtier, Wks. 11. 259, shows their notorious knavery: 'Though I am blacke I am not the Diuell, but indeed a Colier of Croiden, and one sir that haue sold many a false sack of coales, that both wanted measure and was halfe full of dust and drosse.' And further, in his Art 0/ Conny-catching, Wks. 10. 51 ff., there is a Pleasant Discouery of the coosenage of Colliers ; cf. the comedy, Grimm, Collier of Croyden, Haz.-Dods. II. Sir Toby's application of the word to the devil shows how undesirable a soubriquet it had become, Tivelfth Night 3. 4. 130: * Hang thee, foul collier ! ' — which, by the way, is the very direcdon that enraged Face shouts at Subtle, Alchem. i. i, p. 16. 117. chance-medlee. It would seem that Jonson had fallen into the error pointed out by TV. E. D. of using this word for ' pure chance ' rather than in the legal meaning of ' the casual killing of a man, not altogether without the killer's fault, though without an evil intent.' Cf. Every Man Out 3. 2, p. 12. 214 ^^^ Silent Woman [act hi Act III. Scene VI. 28. Complement. Of this oft-used word Jonson says, Disc. 142, vol. 9. 209: 'You are not to cast a ring for the perfumed terms of the time, as acco?nmodation, complement, spirit, &c., but use them properly in their place, as others.' Cf. note, complement, I. I. 136. 41. absolute behauiour. Absolute is seldom found in the sense of 'perfect' now. Cf. Hen. F3. 7. 27 : 'Indeed, my lord, it is a most absolute and excellent horse.' M. W. of W. 3. 3. 66 : ' Thou wouldst make an absolute courtier.' Coriol. 4. 5. 143 : AuF. Therefore, most absolute sir, . . . take The one half of my commission. Two Noble Kinsmen 2.1:' They are famed to be a pair of absolute men.' Meas. for Meas. 5. i. 44: 'As shy, as grave, as just, as absolute.' Marston, What you Will 4. i : Malez. ' O, but your servant Quadratus, the absolute courtier.' Lyly, Cavipaspe 3. 3 : Apelles. ' It were pitie but that so absolute a face should furnish Venus temple amongst these pictures.' 55-6. set vp a side : i. e. to become partners in a game of cards. 68. gloues. It is a very old custom in England to give gloves to the wedding-guests. Beck, Gloves, their Annals and Associa- tions, London, 1883, pp. 235-8, says they were sent also to absent friends interested in the wedding, a point supported by such incidents as that 'n Field, Amends for Ladies i. i, Haz.-Dods. II. 106 : Sel. 'I am come from Master Ingen this morning, who, is married, or to be married ; and though your ladyship did not honour his nuptials with your presence, he hath by me sent each of you a pair of gloves.' Cf. Bar. Fair 3. i, p. 424 : 'And my wedding gloves too ! that I never thought on afore. All my wedding gloves, gingerbread? O me! what a device there will be to make 'em eat their fingers' ends ! ' It was a fine device, seeing that the usual wedding glove was a fancy aff'air of leather, silk, or worsted, perfumed and laboriously embroidered. Beaum. and Fletch. Scornful Lady i . i : If my wedding-smock were on, Were the gloves bought and given, the licence come, Were the rosemary branches dipt, and all The hippocras and cakes eat and drunk off. SC. vi] Notes 215 Herrick, Hesperides 617 : What posies for our wedding rings, What gloves we'll give, and ribbanings. 73. where be our skarfes. Brand, 2. no, speaks of the custom of giving favors, fancy ribbons, or scarfs, as are found in the Collier's Wedding : The blithesome, bucksome country maids, With knots of ribands at their heads, And pinners flutt'ring in the wind, That fan before and toss behind. Like streamers in the painted sky, At every breast the favours fly. 75. brides colours. It was the custom for bride and groom to have their particular color of ribbon, which their respective friends wore in their honor. So Chamberlain writes (quoted by C, vol. 7. 443) on the 5th of January, 1613-14: 'On the New Year's day was the Tiltings of ten against ten. The bases, trappings, and all other furniture of the one party was murrey and white, which were the Bride's colours ; the other green and yellow for the bride-groom.' Jonson satirizes this in the Tale of a Tub I. 2, p. 134, when Turfe, whose daughter is to marry John Clay, remarks : ' Son John shall bid welcome all, this day ; we'll zerve under his colours.' And the general use of colors is the subject of a lengthy satiric treatment in Cyn. Rev. 5. 2. 307 ff. Brand, 2. Ill, quotes from the Fifteen Comforts of Marriage, concerning the colors used by brides with regard to their due significance : ' For the favours-blue (truth), red (justice), peach-colour and orange- tawny. For the young ladies' top-knots flame-colour, straw-colour (plenty), peach-colour, grass-green (youthful jollity), and milk-white. For the garters, a perfect yellow, signifying honour and joy.' 82-3. biggen, to the night-cap. A biggen as here used was the cap an infant wore, just as the night-cap was worn by men of years ; but ' biggin ' stands for the profession of law in Mayne, City Match : One, whom the good old man, his uncle, Kept to the Inns of Court, and would in time Have made him barrister, and raised him to The satin cap and biggin. Volp. 5. 5, p. 306, Mosca's advice to the advocate Voltore is to 2i6 The Silent Woman [act hi * get you a biggin more '. And Pierce Penilesss Supplication to the Deuil (1592) : ' Vpon his head he wore a coarse biggin, and next it a garnish of night-caps, with a sage button cap ' is said of the usurer. It is distinctly a child's cap in The Masque of Christmas, vol. 7, 261: 'Baby-cake, drest like a boy, in a fine long coat, biggin, bib, muskender, and a little dagger.' 91-2. no garters? ... no epithalamium ? no masque? Brand, 2. 127, writes that it was from early times a custom at weddings for the young men to strive (immediately after the ceremony) to gain possession of the bride's garters. ' This was sometimes done before the very altar. The bride was gartered with ribbons for the occasion.' Another custom, as crude and generally coupled with that of the garters, was the endeavor to possess themselves of the groom's points. So Brooke, Epithalamium, in England's Helicon : Youths, take his poynts, your wonted rights; And maydens, take your due, her garters, Herrick, Hesperides 284 : Quickly, quickly then prepare, And let the young men and the bride-maids share Your garters; and their joyntts Encircle with the bride grom's points. Formal marriage songs were fashionable among the nobility of Jonson's day ; cf. Spenser's beautiful poem and those Jonson wrote in connection with his masques. He says of his own in Masque of Hymen, vol. 7. 65 : 'I made it both in form and matter to emulate that kind of poem, which was called Epithalamium, and by the ancients used to be sung when the bride was led into her chamber.' Concerning masques we only quote, in addition to what has been said, a few words from the indispensable Brand, who says, 2. i6i : 'Among the higher ranks there was ... a wedding-sermon, an epithalamium, and at night a masque.' 102. diuerted vpon mee. A construction very unusual, made probably with the Latin in mind, diver tere, to turn away or aside. 107. a rude groome. Centaure, taking advantage of the meaning of ' servant ', which also belongs to groom, makes a pun. 108-9. to be grafted, and haue your homes, &c. Concern- ing the origin and history of the idea of ' horning ' a husband by proving unfaithful to him, N. E. D. has the best account, finding sc. vi] Notes 217 it common to many languages and as old as classic Greek. There are other conjectures, one of a whimsical nature, in Notes and Queries, 6th Series, vol. 10. Shakespeare has a fantastic explana- tion of the ram's horns falling into the Emperor's court, Tii. Andron. 4. 3. 70 ff., and a detailed joke on horn-book and horn, L. L. L. 5. I. 69 ff. Brand has collected a quantity of material on this subject, and it may be found in the Pop. Aniiq. 2. 181-202, under Cornutes. 114-15. in a very sad cup. Wine was necessary at a bridal, a bride-cup being often drunk at the altar itself. Compleat Vintner (1720), quoted by Brand, 2. 137 : What priest can join two lovers' hands. But wine must seal the marriage-bands? As if celestial wine was thought Essential to the sacred knot, And that each bridegroom and his bride Believ'd they were not firmly ty'd Till Bacchus, with his bleeding tun. Had finished what the priest begun. New Inn 5. i, p. 404 : Lord B. Get our bed ready, chamberlain, And host, a bride-cup. 115. Goe too. Schmidt calls this 'a phrase of exhortation or reproof. Jonson uses it again, 3. i. 57, but it is far less often in the mouths of his characters than in those of Shakespeare. Tempest 5. 297; Two G. of Ver. 2. i. 13; M. W. ofW. i. 4. 165, 2. 2. 159, &c. Act III. Scene VII. 2. varietie of noyses. Groups of different sorts of players, fiddlers, and trumpeters. This wedding seems not to have been noisier than others of the common people. Christian State of Matrimony (1543), p. 48: 'They came with a great noise of harpers, lutes, kytles, basen, and drommes, wherwyth they trouble the whole church, and hyndre them in matters pertayning to God.' Puttenham, Arte of English Poesie (1589), p. 69, writes of 'blind harpers, or such like tauern minstrels that giue a fit of mirth for a groat, and their matters being for the most part stories of old time, as the Tale of Sir Topas, the Reportes of Beuis of Southamp- P 2i8 The Silent Woman [act hi, sc. vii ton . . . made purposely for recreation of the common people at Christmas dinner, and bride-ales '. 18-19. wedding dinner. To preserve La-Foole's dignity it should be explained that his bringing in a banquet was not an act unprecedented, for Harrison, in his Description of England, explains : ' In feasting, also, the husbandmen do exceed after this manner, especially at bridales . . . where it is incredible to tell what meat is consumed and spent ; ech one brings such a dish, or so manie, with him, as his wife and he doo consult vpon, but, alwaies with this consideration, that the leefe friend shall haue the better prouision '. Tale of a Tub, Dame Turfe insists that the dinner must be eaten to music, and Clench upholds her : She is in the right, sir ; vor your wedding dinner Is starv'd without the music. 33. How like you her wit. So Fastidious, anxious for the reputed wit of Saviolina, asks Macilente in Every Man Out 3. 3, p. 120: 'How like you her wit?' And Macilente answers, less affectedly, but hardly more sincerely than Mavis : ' Her ingenuity is excellent, sir.' 34, prettily ... well. In present-day English an adv. of manner cannot modify other adv.; cf. Cyn. Rev. i. i, p. 228: 'Indeed, I think, next a traveller, he does prettily well.' Bar. Fair 3. i, p. 421 : 'I like that device of your smiths, very pretty well.' ^S". of News 2. I, p. 211: Pen. Can. 'They pass the compliment prettily well.' 42. Heralds. The heralds at arms, the royal trumpeters. 6". of News I. 2, p. 182 : Pen. Jr. I should have made shift To have laugh'd as heartily in my mourner's hood, As in this suit, if it had pleas'd my father To have been buried with the trumpeters. Pick. The heralds at arms, you mean. Pen. Jr. I mean All noise that is superfluous ! The heralds at arms were originally the announcers of important news of any kind, and called the attention of the populace to themselves by blowing upon their horns. ACT iiii, sc. i] Notes 219 Act iiii. Scene I. 3-4. Chronicles of the land. The histories which began with Stow, Camden, Holinshed and others, had grown numerous enough to furnish many a jest for play-makers, Cf. Mayne, Cily Match I.I, where a thrust is made at Stow in : 'Tis past the wit o' th' court of aldermen, Next merchant-tailor, that writes chronicles, Will put us in. 9. neesing. This old form is familiar in Job 41. 18 : ' By his neesings a light doth shine ', as is said of the Leviathan. Dekker, Lanthorne and Candle- Light, Pr. Wks. 3. 277, uses it of a horse : ' At length, with a little neezing more, his nose will be cleaner then his Maisters the Horse-courser ! ' dauneing. Early in the sixteenth century the English gained a reputation for being ex- cellent dancers. Strutt, Sports and Past. 174 ff., discusses the sub- ject, and its place in all holiday functions taken part in by nobility, the middle classes, and their inferiors, quoting from The Four Elevients the accusation that the people at large love ' pryncypally disportes, as daunsynge, syngynge, toys, tryfuls, laughynge, and gestynge'. The most abusive words in Stubbes's denunciatory vocabulary are expended against dancing, pp. 156 ff. Burton dis- cusses it Anat. of Mel., pp. 541-2. Shakespeare refers often, but briefly, as in Twelfth Night i. 3. 136, and Hen. F3. 5. 32, to lavoltas, galliards, corantos. And Marston, Malcontent 4.1:' Les quanto, lady, Pensez-bien, Pas-a-regis, or Bianca^s hrawl ?'' To which question Aur. answers, ' We have forgot the brawl '. Selden, Table Talk, p. 62 : ' The Court oi England \s, much alter'd. At a solemn Dancing, first you had the grave Measures, then the Corantoes and the Galliards, and this is kept up with Ceremony, at length to Prench-more, and the Cushion-Dance, and then all the company Dance, Lord and Groom, Lady and Kitchen-Maid, no distinction. So in our Court in Queen Elizabeth's time Gravity and State were kept up. In King fames' s time things were pretty well. But in King Charles's time, there has been nothing but French-More and the Cushion-Dance, omnium gatherum, tolly, polly, hoite come loite.' The brawl (Fr. braule) was done by several persons holding hands in a circle ; ihepavin was slow and grave; P 2 220 The Silent Woman [act mi the dignified measure formed part of the Revels of the Inns of Court ; the Canary was a sprightly and popular dance, so coran- toes, lavoltas, jigs, and galliards. There is an old book of 1 588 on dancing — Arbeau, Orcheseographie. 11. furie. Cf. also 4. 2. 80. The application of the name of the Eumenides to an angry or malignant woman appears as early as Chaucer, Troil. and Cress. 1488. It is common in Jonson's time, Beaum. and Fletch. Philaster 2.4: Come sir, You put me in a woman's madness, the glory of a fury. 20. I shall goe away i' the iest else. ' I shall die laughing.' 21. nest of night-caps. This word seems at times to mean a series of articles of diminishing sizes, and at times to mean simply ' a collection'. Cf. Marston, Dutch Courtezan i. i : ' Cog- ging Cocledemoy is runne away with a neast of goblets.' Dekker, 2 Honest Whore i. 3, Lodovico asks in allusion to the traders' caps : ' Carolo, didst e'er see such a nest of caps ? ' Bar. Fair, Induct, p. 349 : ' If there be never a servant-monster in the fair, who can help it, he says, nor a nest of antiques ?' Ibid. 4. 4, p. 472 : 'I have a nest of beards in my trunk.' 24-5. like him o' the sadlers horse in Fleet street. I find no description of the saddler's sign. 2 Hen. IV 2. 4. 270, Falstaflf laughs at Poins because ' he wears his boots very smooth, like unto the sign of the leg ', and somehow the boots are suggestive of a saddler's sign, though ' the sign of the leg ' was the prerogative of every hosier. 34. come about to thee: 'to side with'. So Cat. 2. i, p. 228 : Cur. You will repent these moods, and ere 't be long too, I shall have you come about again. Ibid. 4. 4, p. 294, Sanga says of the Allobroges : 'They're come about, and won to the true side '. 39. if shee be short. This ridiculous advice from Ovid is repeated in Marston, Dutch Courtezan 3. i : Crispinella insists, ' Nay, good, let me still sit ; we low statures love still to sit, lest when we stand we may be supposed to sit '. Cf. the conversation between Speed and Launce, Two G. of Ver. 3. 2. 43. carue the lesse, and act in gloues. Act must mean. sc. i] Notes 221 'gesticulate', for the source, Ars Amatoria 3. 275 reads: ' Exiguo signet gestu quodcunque loquetur.' It was usual for women to carve at table. Z>. -(4. 2. 3, p. 70, Engine praises Dick Robinson who impersonates a woman ; But to see him behave it. And lay the law, and carve, and drink unto them, . . . It would have burst your buttons, or not left you A seam. M. W. of W. I. 3. 50, Falstaff enumerates the virtues of Mrs. Ford : ' Briefly, I do mean to make love to Ford's wife ; I spy entertainment in her; she discourses, she carves, she gives the leer of invitation.' 44. discourse fasting. Fasting, unusual in its form, is sug- gested by the Latin word in the context of the source Ars Amatoria 3. 2"]^, jejuna. Two G. of Ver. 3. i. 325 : * She is not to be kissed fasting.' 51. I loue measure. So Shakespeare says, Much Ado 2. i. 74 : ' There is a measure in everything.' And so the French early began to feel the force of this word, e.g. William de Palerne 619 : ' Sous sens le grant et sa mesure.' 56. leaue to Hue. Cf. Abbott, § 356, for the use of infinitive for gerundive. Cyn. Rev. 2. i, p. 237: Mercury. 'Nay Cupid, leave to speak improperly.' Ibid. Induct. : ' They could wish your poets would leave to be promoters of other men's jests.' Cat. 3. 5, p. 268 : ' Leave to be mad.' D. A. 2. r, p. 50 : ' Bid him . . . leave to spread his nets in view.' 57. Amadis de Gaule, or Don Quixote. The first of these is a long Spanish roman d'aventure of the illegitimate son of Periou, King of Gaul, and Elisena, princess of Brittany, which was translated into French by Herberay in 1540. In 1592 the first four or five books were translated into English from the French by Wolfe; later, through Anthony Munday's translations (1553- 1633), Amadis of Gaule and the Palmerin family grew widely known. Saintsbury, French Literature, p. 236, says : ' The book became immensely popular. It is said that it was the usual read- ing book for foreign students of French . . . To no single book can be so clearly traced the heroic romances of the early seven- teenth century.' The first part only of Don Quixote had been printed at this time, coming out at Madrid in 1605. The second 222 The Silent Woman [act iiii part followed in 1615. Shelton's famous translation appeared 1612-20, Jonson couples these two knights of romance \x\.Alchem. 4. 4, p. 146, when Kastril says to Surly : You are a pimp and a trig, And an Amadis de Gaule or a Don Quixote. He had little patience with the literature of romance, and writes in Underwoods, Execration upoti Vulcan, vol. 8. 400, that he would have expected vengeance from the fire-god : Had I compiled from Amadis de Gaul, The Esplandians, Arthurs, Palmerins, and all The learned library of Don Quixote, And so some goodlier monster had begot. Burton, Anat. of Mel, p. 352 : ' Such . . . read nothing but play books, idle poems, jests, Amadis de Gaul, the Knight of the Sun, the Seven Champions, Palmerin de Oliva, Huon of Bordeaux.' Drake, Sh. and his Times, quotes the advice of Moryson, Itinerary (16 1 7), in his directions to a traveler how to acquire languages: ' I think no book better for his discourse than Amadis of Gaul ; for the knights errant, and the ladies of courts doe therein exchange courtly speeches, and these books are in all languages translated by the masters of eloquence.' 58-9. where the matter is frequent, &c. At court were given many entertainments to which the public were asked — masques, baitings, &c. In Elizabeth's reign tilting was a gorgeous and spectacular court amusement. Nichols, Progresses, 2. 125, de- scribes one of the most splendid, lasting two days and given in honor of the French ambassadors who arrived in London April, 1 58 1. The earl of Arundel wore engraved armor, with caparisons and horse furniture richly embroidered ; Lord Windsor wore gilt armor, master Philip Sidney blue and gilt; their followers in crimson and gold, orange and black. Twenty warriors fought at the entertainment given for Duke Montmorenci, chief Marshal of France, when he came to England to receive the Order of the Garter. And Nichols, ibid., 3. 41, relates how in 1590 Sir Henry Lee, the Queen's Champion, gave up his office in the tilt-yard to the Earl of Cumberland. But as no one below a squire could engage in a tournament, for the common people there were such games as tilting at the ring, quintain, or water quintain. Cf Strutt, Sports and Past., p. Ill ; Drake, Sh. and his Times, p. 269. Dekker devotes sc. i] Notes 223 much space to criticizing the morals of public audiences, Guh Horn-Booke, Pr. Wks. 2. 249 : ' By sitting on the stage, if you be a knight, you may happily get you a Mistresse : if a meere Fleet- street Gentleman, a wife: but assure your-selfe, by continuall residence, you are the first and principall man in election to begin the number of we three! All of chap. 3 concerns play-house misbehavior; and again in Rauens Almanacke, Pr. Wks. 4. 191 ff. it is given attention. Swetnam, Arraignment of Women (1617): * If you meane to see the beare-baiting of women, then trudge to this Bear-Garden apace and get in betimes and view every room where thou mayst best sit for thy own pleasure.' Cf. Stubbes, Anat. of Ab., pp. 144 if., and Gossen, School of Abuse, Arber's Reprint, pp. 34 ff. Although Jonson takes this suggestion from Ovid, of making the church a rendezvous, it was singularly applicable to London in his day. The irreverent use to which St. Paul's was put between 1550 and 1650 is notorious; it was the common gossiping and business center for the ' wits and braveries ' about town (cf. Earle, Micro-C. no. 52, and Guls Horn-Booke, ch. 4). Dekker, ' Z^^wz'/i- Answer to Pierce Penny lesse, Pr. Wks. i. 115: ' Churches stand like Rocks, to which very ffew approach, for feare of suffering ship-wrack.' As early as 1550 Bishop Hooper wrote. Later Writings (Parker Soc, p. 129): 'Item, that the church warderes do not permit any buying, selling, gaming, outrageous noises, tumult, or any other idle occupying of youth in the church, church porch, or church-yard, during the time of common prayer or reading of the homily.' Westward Ho 2. \,Dram. Wks. 2. 300 : Mrs. Honeysuckle. I'll come. The hour? JusTiNiANus. Two : the way through Paul's ; every wench take a pillar ; there clap on your masks : your men will be behind you ; and before your prayers are half done be before you, and man you out at severall doors. You'll be there.' Cf. ibid. 2. 2. 66. droning a tobacco pipe. N. E. D. thinks that this expression for ' smoking ' comes from a ludicrous comparison of puffing smoke to playing on a bagpipe. Other phrases are as comic — ' to drink tobacco ', ' to take a whiff ', ' to breath tobacco ' ; but they are more common than this one, which occurs but in one other place, Every Man Out 4. 4, p. 132: 'His villanous Ganimede and he ha' been droning a tobacco pipe, there ever since yesterday noon.' Jonson's comedies are full of allusions to the lately acquired 224 l^he Silent Woman [act iiii habit of smoking, quite naturally so, for in hunting out his countrymen's foibles none was more prominent in the social world than this. It seems to have been introduced first into Spain in 1560, when Hernandez sent some tobacco plants from Mexico. Nicot, the French envoy in Lisbon, introduced it into France in 1 56 1. Ralph Lane, who was governor in 1584 of the English colony founded in America by Raleigh, and returned to England in 1586, is thought to be the bringer of the plant and its use into his country. Some writers maintain that Sir John Hawkins brought tobacco to England as early as 1565 ; but however that be, it was made fashionable by Sir Walter Raleigh. Jonson gives most attention to his satire on the use of the plant, Every Man In, Every Man Out, Cyn. Rev., Alchem., and Bar. Fair, where the feminine Falstaif, Ursula, the pig-woman, is herself a smoker. James I, Counterblaste to Tobacco (1604), Arber, 1895, is enlighten- ing as being the vehement expression of Jonson's royal contem- porary on what he considered the most unforgivable custom of his subjects. Fairholt has a very satisfactory History of Tobacco. 68. the neere. ' Near and next . . . are really the comparative and superlative of the adj. nigh (A.-S. neah), but they are no longer associated with nigh in our consciousness. They survive as independent words. Near has become a positive, and a new comparative has been formed from it — nearer, which really shows a double comparative ending.' — W. and their W. p. 200; cf. also Abbott, § 478. The old form of the comparative is frequent in the old plays. Jack Juggler, Haz.-Dods. 2. 125: 'But go no near, lest I handle thee like a stranger.' Ralph Roister Doister, Haz.- Dods. 3. 64 : Her thousand pound, if she be thrifty. Is much near about two hundred and fifty. 76. Ostend. After a siege of three years and ten weeks this town was taken Sept. 8, 1604 by the Marquis Spinola. The slaughter aggregated 120,000 men on both sides. It seems to have made a deep impression on the contemporary mind, and to have been proverbial for brave resistance ; cf. i Honest Whore 4. i : * Indeed, that 's harder to come by then ever was Ostend.' 91. alwaies. W. is right in considering this a misprint for all ways. The context of the original is : Sunt diversa puellis Pectora; mille animos excipe mille modis. sc. i] Notes 225 98-9. giue verses . . . buy 'hem. Dekker told his gull that purchase was an excellent way to obtain poetry for one's own composition, Cyn. Rev. 3. i, p. 259, Amorphus advises Asotus, who fears that the ladies may ask him for verses : ' Why, you must prove the aptitude of your genius; if you find none, you must hearken out a vein, and buy ; provided you pay for the silence as for the work, then you may securely call it your own.' 100-2. be frequent in the mention of quarrels, though you be staunch in fighting. ' Though you should really be a brave man, and therefore not naturally inclined to boast of your valours ; yet, to please your mistress, you may often make it the subject of your discourse ' — so runs GifTord's lengthy paraphrase of a not very compHcated passage. In relation to his own satire it is amusing to hear Pyrgus say of Jonson, Poet. 4. 5, p. 464 : Horace is a man of the sword. And in Satiromastix Dekker repeats the phrase : ' Holds, Capten, 'tis known that Horace is valliant, and a man of the sword.' To be sure, Jonson had proved his personal valor in duel, as well as in the army. 1 02-3. leaping cuer stooles. A form of exercise often derided. Cf. Every Man Out 3. 3, p. 118 : Fast. By this hand, I'd spend twenty pound my vaulting- horse stood here now, she might see me do but one trick. Mac. Why, does she love activity ? 2 Hen. IV 2. 4. 265 : DoL. Why does the prince love him so, then ? Fal. Because their legs are both of a bigness, and a' plays at quoits well, and . . . drinks off candles' ends for flap-dragons, . . . and jumps upon joined stools. 104. learned counsell. Cf. Dekker's list of tradesmen neces- sary to a gallant, Guh Horn-Booke, ch. 8 : ' Your Tailor, Mercer, Haberdasher, Silkeman, Cutter, Linen-Draper,or Sempster stand like a guard of Switzers about your lodging.' your french taylor comes in for much ridicule from the pamphleteers and Dekker, Deuils Answer to Pierce Pennylesse, Pr. Wks. i. 114: 'France, where the Gentlemen, to make Apes of Englishmen, whom they took dayly practising all the foolish tricks of fashion after their Monsieur-shtps, with yards instead of leading Staues, mustred all the French Taylors together; who, by reason they had not their 226 The Silent Woman [act iiii haire, wore thimbles on their heads instead of Harnesse caps, euery man being armed with his sheeres and pressing Iron, which he calls there his goose (many of them being in France) : Al the crosse caperers being plac'd in strong rankes, and an excellent oration cut out and sticht together, perswading them to sweat out their very braines, in deuising new french cuts, new french panes in honour of Saint Dennys, onely to make the giddy-pated English- man consume his reuenues in wearing the like cloathes.' Cf. ibid. Seue7i Deadly Sinnes 59. As early as 1580 Harrison writes: ' Neither was it merrier with England, than when an Englishman was knowne abroad by his owne cloth, and contented himselfe at home with his fine carsie hosen, and a meane slop : . . . without such cuts and gawrish colours as are worne in these dales, and neuer brought in but by the consent of the French, who thinke themselues the gaiest men, when they haue most diuersities of iagges and change of colours about them.' 116, cherries ... or apricots. Cherries were a very common but favorite fruit with the English. Venders sold them everywhere in the market streets. ' May dukes, white heart, black heart, Kentish', all these with their luscious names were to be bought in season of the street-sellers from three- to sixpence a pound, of the shops at a price always from two- to threepence a pound higher. Apricots were grown in England early in Elizabeth's reign; in 1571 the queen sent the French ambassador a basket full of fine ones to show him what good fruit England produced {Cor res. dipl. de Fenelon, Paris, 1840). As presents fruit was given by subjects to the queen herself, for Nichols quotes in Progresses 2. 104 ff., a list of gifts, one being ' Mrs. Morgan a box of cherryes, and one of aberycocks '. 118. Cheap-side . It had been the chief market-place of the city since the time of Edward I, growing from a place of scattered markets and fairs to the street of Stow's day {Survey 3. 49), ' a very stately spacious street, adorned with lofty buildings; well inhabited by Goldsmiths, Linen-drapers, Haberdashers, and other great dealers '. To-day Cheapside is the central east and west thoroughfare of London, but no longer a fashionable shopping district. 120. riddles. The invention of riddles Jonson enumerates among other foolish occupations of the pen. In his Execration upon Vulcan, vol. 8. 400, he denies that he ever sc. i] Notes 2.2.'^ Spun out riddles, or weav'd fifty tomes Of Logographes, or curious Palindromes, Or pump'd for those hard trifles, Anagrams. 120-1. great one. W. has a note to the effect that Jonson used here a stage term, 'where a less principal character acting in subordination to the first, and forwarding all his designs, was said secundes partes agere'. But the word was common in the sense of person of position : e. g. Dekker, Belman of London, Pr. Wks. 3. 71 : 'Art thou a tyrant and delightest in the fall of Great- ones ? ' 148. the best philtre i' the world. Cunning women and quack-doctors encouraged belief in potions of this sort. Shake- speare speaks of such when he has Brabantio say, 0th. 1.3. 59 : She is abus'd, stolen from me, and corrupted By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks. Cf. Burton, Anat. of Mel. 546 if., and Gay, Shepherd's Week 4. 1 23 ff. : Strait to the Apothecary's shop I went, And in love powder all my money spent; Behap what will, next Sunday after prayers, When to the alehouse Lubberkin repairs. These golden flies into his mug I'll throw, And soon the swain with fervent love shall glow. 149-50. madame Medea, or Doctor Foreman. Medea is the greatest magician of the Greek myth. She helped Jason win the Golden Fleece from Colchis, slew by strategy Pelias, king of lolchos, and then, in revenge for Jason's abandonment of her, slew his bride with a poisoned garment, and the father by fire. Dr. Simon Foreman (1552-1611) was the famous London quack believed to be Jonson's model for Subtle in the Alchemist. He was connected with the infamous Essex aff"air and Sir Thomas Over- bury's death. His life is fully treated by Mr. Hathaway in the Introduction to his edition of the Alchemist, pp. 97 ff". Other sources of information concerning him are Nashe, The Rise of Conjurers', lAWy, Life and Times; and Foreman's y^wrwc/, published by Halliwell. Jonson speaks of him D. A. i. 2, p. 16: Ay, they do now name Bretnor, as before They talk'd of Gresham, and of doctor Foreman. Richard Nichol, Overbury's Vision : Foreman was that fiend in human shape That by his art did act the devil's ape. 228 The Silent Woman [act iiii 151. the mounte-bank. This quack-doctor made his first appearance in England some three and a half centuries ago. He sold medicines, making pompous orations to the public, sometimes acting as juggler, &c., to gather a crowd and dispose of his wares. He seldom performed alone, and Strutt quotes from an old ballad entitled Sundry Trades and Callings : A mountebank without his fool Is in a sorrowful case. Cf, Dekker, Lanthorne and Candle-Light, Pr. Wks. 3 ; and Volp. 2. I, p. 203. Act iiii. Scene II. This scene is a parody on bear-baiting ; its noisy fun must have been highly amusing to an audience accustomed to the rough sport of the Bear Garden. Hentzner, Travels (1590), thus describes the game : ' The bulls and bears . . . are fastened behind, and then worried by great English bull-dogs ; but not without great risque to the dogs from the horns of the one and the teeth of the other ; and it sometimes happens they are killed upon the spot. Fresh ones are immediately supplied in the place of those that are wounded or tired. To this entertainment there often follows that of whipping a blinded bear, which is performed by five or six men, standing circularly with whips, which they exercise upon him without any mercy.' Cf. the account of Ordish, London Theatres, pp. 237 ff., drawn from the Alleyn Papers. There is an advertise- ment in the Dulwich Catalogue, p. 83, and quoted by Wh.-C. : ' Tomorrowe beinge Thursdaie shalbe seen at the Bear-garden on the banc-side a great mach plaid by the gamesters of Essex, who hath challenged all comers whatsoever to plaie v dogges at the single beare for v pounds, and also to wearie a bull dead at the stake; and for your better delight shall have plasent sport with the horse and ape and whiping of the blind beare. Vivat Rex '. Naturally there was much inveighing against a game of such brutality, but it had its noble advocates ; cf. Gefitlemans Magazine, 1 8 1 6, vol. 86, part i, p. 205, where is reprinted a MS. of 1606 in defence of the game. Complaint against Bear-baiting as a Sunday diversion grew so strong that in 1625 James (Act i, Cor. i, ch. i) forbids * Bearbaiting . . . BuUbaiting, Enterludes, common Playes, sc. ii] Notes 229 or other unlawful exercises or pastimes' on the Sabbath. The sport was made illegal in 1642. With what favor it was revived in Charles II's reign we find from Pepys, Diary, Aug. 14, 1666: * After dinner with my wife and Mercer to the Bear-garden ; where I have not been, I think, of many years, and saw some good sport of the bull's tossing of the dogs : one into the very boxes. But it is a very rude and noisy pleasure.' (Cf. also May, 1667; Sept. 9, 1667; Apr. 12, 1669.) Evelyn, ZJz'czry, June 16, 1670: 'I went with some friends to the Bear Garden, where was cock-fighting, dog-fighting, beare and bull baiting, it being a famous day for all these butcherly sports or rather barbarous cruelties. The bulls did exceedingly well, but the Irish wolfe-dog exceeded, which was a tall greyhound, a stately creature indeed, who beat a cruel mastif . . . Two poor dogs were killed : and so all ended with the ape on horseback and I most heartily weary of the rude and dirty pastime, which I had not seen I think in twenty years before.' 4. bull, beare, and horse. The cups which Otter designated by the fanciful names of the Bear Garden were doubtless of varying sizes, perhaps shaped or painted to represent the bull, bear, or horse. Cf 4. 2. 139. 18. Saint George, and saint Andrew. This was a signifi- cant invocation, because, until James I joined the kingdoms, George of England and Andrew of Scotland had little real friendship for each other. Dekker, Wonderfull Yeare,Pr. Wks. i. 97 : ' S. George and S. Andrew that many hundred yeares had defied one another, are now sworn brothers.' And in his Kings Entertainment through the City of Londori i^zx. 15, 1603) he plans the following: 'St. George and St. Andrew (the Patrons of both Kingdomes) hauing along time lookt vpon each other, with countenance rather of meere strangers then of such neare Neighbours, vpon the present aspect of his Maiesties approach toward London, were (in his sight) to issue from two seuerall places on horsebacke, and in compleate Armour, their Brestes and Caparisons suited with the armes of England and Scotland ... to testifie their leagued combi- nation, and new sworne Brotherhood.' St. George was a Cappa- docian soldier who attempted to convert Diocletian, and was put to death Apr. 23, 303. The dragon was a late addition to his history. He was very popular in the Middle Ages, and Richard 230 The Silent Woman [act iiii Coeur de Lion made him especially so among the English. At the Council of Oxford, 1222, his feast was ordered to be a national festival, and under Edward III he was recognized as the patron saint of England. 27. ofF with his spurres. Sir Amorous would have to lose his spurs if he proved a coward and unworthy the rank of which his spurs were the symbol. Thornbury, Old and New London I. 297, writes that when Sir Francis Mitchell in 162 1 was con- victed of certain misdemeanors ' the Knights' Marshall's ' men cut off the offender's sword, took off his spurs, and flung them away, proclaiming him ' an infamous arrant knave.' The gilt and silver spurs of the gallants were ridiculed by the satirists. Dekker, Guls Hor?t-Booke, p. 233 : 'Be sure your siluer spurres dog your heeles ! ' Chapman, Monsieur d' Olive 3. i : ' You may hear them half a mile ere they come at you . . . sixe or seuen make a perfect morrice-daunce; they need no bells, their spurs searue their turne.' Cf. Strutt, Antiquities 3. 98. 51. Buz. Titiuilitium. The first of these apparently meaning- less words was used in many ways, especially in charms, and as part of the vocabulary of people supposed to be possessed ; cf. D. A. 5. 5, p. 141. Titivilitivm Ainsworth defines as 'paltry', 'good for nothing'; Cooper, in his Thesaurus (1587), 'an vgle thing of no value — a rotten threade.' G. quotes in regard to it from Plautus, Cas. 2.5: ' Non ego istud verbum emissim titivi- litio.' The name Titivile, evidently derived from this word, was a favorite appellation of the devil in the old moralities ; cf. Ralph Roister Doister i. i : M. Mery. ' Sometime Tom Titiuile maketh us a feast.' Mankind'. Beware of Tytivillus, for he leayth no wey That goth in vysybuU and wyll not be sen ; . . . He ys worst of them all, God let him neuer then! In the Townley play Juditium, Titivillus is a loquacious devil. Ward takes up this point, Dram. Lit. i. 76, and Manly, Pre- decessors 0/ Shakespeare, p. 326. 69. Tritons o' the Thames. The son of Poseidon and Amphitrite was the original single bearer of the name of Triton. Later it was applied to a race of subordinate sea deities, whose common attribute was the shell-trumpet, which they blew to calm sc. ii] Notes 231 the waves. The fitness of the epithet as Jonson applied it to the ' noise of trumpeters ' is evident. 75-7. clogdogdo . . . mala bestia. C. says this Ms a ridi- culous expression formed by the poet, meaning clog proper only for a dog'. Mala bestia is from Plautus, Bacch. i. i. 21 : Mala tu es bestia, and Catul. 69. 8 : ' Hunc metuunt omnes, neque mirum, nam mala valde est Bestia.' 91. O viper, mandrake. It is very ludicrous to hear Mrs. Otter apply the second of these names to the captain. The word is a corruption of mandragoras, drake being an OE, form of dragon (A.-S. draca, from L. draco). The mandrake has a forked root somewhat like the human figure, and was believed to be alive, and to shriek so terribly at being uprooted that hearers went mad. Ham. and Jul. 4. 3. 47 : And shrieks, like mandrakes torn out of the earth, That living mortals, hearing them, run mad. FalstafF calls his page by the opprobrious epithet, 2 Hefi. IV 2. 93. mercury and hogs-bones. Mercury, the name given by the old alchemists to quicksilver, was a common ingredient of washes for the face. Cyn. Rev. i. i, p. 216 : ' They are as tender as ... a lady's face new mercuried.' Poet. 4, i, p. 450 : Chloe. And Mercury ! pretty : he has to do with Venus, too ? Tib. a little with her face, lady ; or so. JEpig. 133, vol. 8. 236, Mercury complains: They dispense His spirits now in pills, and eke in potions, Suppositories, cataplasms, and lotions. The use of the hogs' bones must have been less popular, but Jonson writes of it again in regard to cosmetic mysteries, Cyn. Rev. 5. 5. 2, p. 329 : Amorph. What are the ingredients to your fucus? Perfumer. Nought but sublimate and crude mercury, sir, well prepared and dulcified, with the jaw-bones of a sow, burnt, beaten, and searced.' 94-5. Blacke-Priers . . . Strand . . . Siluer-street. Mrs. Otter's teeth being dark in color, her husband thinks this a fitting place to purchase them. The joke seems to have no other point. Mayne's City Match 2, 4 imitates this passage : 232 The Silent Woman [act iiii Hath no eyes but such As she first bought in Broad Street, and every morning Is put together like some instrument. To make her eyebrows like the Strand is a far-fetched joke, playing on the word in a significance which has nothing to do with naming the thoroughfare. When Jonson mentions Silver Street again in S. of New 3. 2, p. 246, Mirth says of it : ' In Silver-Street, the region of money, a good seat for an usurer.' 99. into some twentie boxes. Jonson arraigns men and women alike for their artificiality, and the portability of their make- up. ^S"^'. I. 2, p. 28, Sejanus asks Eudemus of the court ladies ; Which puts her teeth off with her clothes, in court? Or, which her hair, which her complexion, And in which box she puts it ? about next day noone. Satirists of the day blame their contemporaries for late rising. Rowland, A Whole Crew of Kind Gossips, Mel to be Merry (1609) : Daily till ten a clocke a bed she lyes, And then again her Lady-ship doth rise, . . . At twelve a clocke her dinner time she keepes. Stubbes denounces the sinners, p. 87, and Dekker in Guls Horn- Booke,Y>. 218: ' Till the sunnes Car-horse stand prancing on the very top of highest noon : so then (and not till then) is the most healthfuU houre to be stirring ... At what time do Lords and Ladies vse to rise, but then? your simpering Merchants wiues are the fairest lyers in the world: and is not eleuen a clocke their common houre ? ' 100. a great Germane clocke. German clocks were famous for complexity and poor time-keeping. Jonson's comparison is not original: Z. Z. Z. 3. i. 192 : A woman that is like a German clock. Still a-repairing, ever out of frame, And never going aright, being a watch, But being watch'd that it may still go right. Dekker, Seuen Deadly Sinnes, Pr. Wks. 2. 32: 'Taking asunder his Charriot (for it stood altogether like a Germane clock, or an English lack or Tiirne-spit, vpon skrewes and vices), he scatters his Troops.' Middleton, A Mad World, viy Masters 4. i : sc. II] Notes 233 What is she took asunder from her clothes ? Being ready, she consists of hundred pieces, Much hke a German clock, and near ally'd. 103. Ha' you done me right. That is, ' Have you drunk with me?' Cf. 2 Hen. IV e^. 3. 75: Fal. Why, now you have done me right. \To Silence, seetftg him take off a bumper?^ SiL. Do me right And dub me knight, [Singitig.'] Samingo. Dekker, i Hottest Whore i. 5, Fluello drinks, saying: So I ha' done you right on my thumb-nail. Brand, Pop. Aniiq. 2. 331, quotes from the dedication to the Drunkard! s Cup, a sermon by Robert Harris, president of Trinity College, Oxford, in his Works (1653) : ' There is an art of drinking now . . . there is a drinking for the victory, man against man, house against house, town against town, and how not ? . . . I doe not speake of those beasts that must be answered and have right done them, in the same measure, gesture, course, &c., but of such only as leave you to your measure (you will keep a turne and your time in pledging).' 107. Sound, sound. True-wit orders the music to begin. 116. I protest. A common expression of gallants equivalent to 'I vow' or 'I swear'. Cyn. Rev. 2. i, p. 240: 'I have devised one or two of the prettiest oaths ... to protest withal in the presence.' Rom. and Jul. 2. 4. 189: Nurse. I will tell her, sir, that you do protest, which, as I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer. Sir Giles Goosecap (1606): 'There is not the best Duke's son in France dare say, I protest, till he be one and thirty years old at least; for the inheritance of that word is not to be possess'd before.' Cf. note 4. 5. 71. 124. Mrs. Mary Ambree. Little is known of Mary Ambree, save that ballads and plays proclaim her a soldier in the siege of Ghent in 1584. Shakespeare refers to her, Twelfth Night i. 3. 136, ' Mistress Mall ' ; and Knight thinks Butler does also when he writes : A bold virago, stout and tall As Jean of France, or English Mall. Q 234 '^^^^ Silent Woman [act ilii Field, Amends for Ladies 2, i, Haz.-Dods. 11. iii : Grace. D'ye hear, you Sword-and-target (to speak in your own key), Mary Ambree, Long Meg. Jonson names her again in the Tale of a Tub i. 2, p. 133 : TuRFE. My daughter will be valiant, And prove a very Mary Ambry in the business. And Fortunate Isles, vol. 8. 75 : Her you shall see : But credit me, That Mary Ambree (Who march'd so free To the siege of Ghent, . . .) Were a braver sight. Percy's Reliques 2. 218 : When captains courageous, whom death colde not daunte, Did march to the siege of the cittye of Gaunte, They muslred their souldiers by two and by three. And foremost in battle was Mary Ambree. 125. Hellhounds, Stentors. A belief in hell-hounds, who hunted down game for their master, the devil, appears in many old plays, and is recognized in such works as Lavaterus, Of Ghosts and Spirits zvalking by night, 95 ; Peter de Loiers, Treatise of Spectres (1605). In Dekker's Witch of Edmonton the devil himself appears in this guise to the witch. In the Tempest 4. i, Stephano and Trinculo were hunted by * divers spirits in the shape of hounds '. Stentor, the Greek herald of the Trojan war, had a voice as loud as fifty other men together. 126. an ill May-day. Morose's adjective is of dubious mean- ing. Generally May-day was considered by people the gladdest day of the year, with its flower-gathering, Maypole-dancing, and kindred forms of amusement. In 151 7 there had been a May-day on which the ' prentices of London rose against foreigners and aliens ; many of them were imprisoned because of the disturbance, but the king through Wolsey issued a general pardon.' This day was to go down in history as 'Evil May-day'. (Cf. Stow, Survey i. 254.) Perhaps Morose referred to this, or perhaps to the noise always inevitable at such a celebration. 127. the GaUey-foist is a-floate to Westminster. The state barge was used when the new mayor went into office, on the day he was sc. ii] Notes 235 sworn in at Westminster. Drake, Sh. and his Times, p. 424, describes the occasion thus : ' This day of St. Simon and Jude he (the Mayor) enterth into his estate and office : and the next daie following he goeth by water to Westminster, in most triumphlike manner. His barge beinge garnished with the armes of the citie : and nere the sayd barge goeth a shypbote of the Queenes majesties being trim- med upp, and rigged lyke a shippe of warre, with dyvers peces of ordinance, standards, penons, and targets of the proper armes of the sayd Mayor, the armes of the Citie, of his company.' Having taken the oath at Westminster, he returns by water to Paul's wharf, takes horse with the rest of the aldermen, and enters at the gate of Cheapside to Guildhall to dine in company with a thousand people at the charge of the mayor and sheriffs. 144. EatoliflFe. A name belonging to a manor and hamlet in the parish of Stepney. Stow, Survey 4. 43, speaks of it as ' a good mile from the tower ', connected with the city by almost a continual line of houses. ' Ratclifife hath increased in building eastward (in place where I have known a large highway, with fair elm trees on both the sides), that the same hath now taken hold of Limehurst . . . sometime distant a mile from Ratclifife. ... Of late years ship- wrights, and (for the most part) other marine men have built many large and strong houses for themselves, and smaller for sailors.' Act II II. Scene III. 14. I'll call you Morose. The custom among women of calling themselves by their husbands' names is satirized again in D. A. 4. I, p. 98 : Lady T. Pray thee call me Tailbush, As I thee Eitherside; I love not this madam. Lady E. Then I protest to you, Tailbush, I am glad Your business so succeeds. Lady T. Thank thee, good Eitherside. 21. your coacla, and foure horses, &c. The extravagant household planned by Centaure was the ideal of this extravagant age. Gifford's Massinger, Works 4. 43, 44: ' Alsoe I haue six or eight gentlemen ; and I will haue my two coaches, one lyned with veluett to myself, with four very fayre horses, and a coach for my women. ... I will haue twoe coachmen, one for my owne coach, and other 236 The Silent Woman [act iiii for my women. . . . Alsoe, for laundresses, when I trauayle I will haue them sent away before with the carrydges to see all safe, and the chambermayde I will haue goe before with the groomes. . . . Alsoe, for that yt is indecent to crowd upp myself with my gentleman-vsher in my coach I will haue him to haue a convenyent horse to attend me either in city or country. And I must haue two footmen.' 24. Bed'lem. The Hospital of St. Mary of Bethlehem was situated at first outside Bishopsgate, close to St. Botolph's Church. It was endowed as a convent by Simon FitzMary, Sheriff in the year 1240. In 1547, on the petition of Sir John Gresham, Lord Mayor, Henry VIII gave the building of the dissolved priory to the City of London as a hospital for lunatics. Visitors were allowed to see the inmates on payment of an entrance fee, and at one time the hospital ' derived a revenue of at least 400 pounds a year from the indiscriminate admission of visitors'. The inmates were for the most part wretchedly cared for, many were chained, and most in miserable garments, with no better beds than ones of straw. In 1775 an end was made of the practice of converting the hospital into a public spectacle. Subtle speaks of it in that capacity, Alchem. 4. 2, p. 132 (of Dame Pliant) : To hurry her through London, to the Exchange, Bethlem, the China-houses. Cf. I Honed Whore ^. 2, which has its scene laid in the Bethlehem Hospital, and illustrates the deplorable condition of affairs therein. 47. tell us the newes. Jonson's comedy The S. of News \^ the best commentary to this line. For the love of news, and the early manner of gatherinof and disseminating it, cf Mr. Winter's Introd. pp. XXV flf. in his edition of the comedy. 48. Make anagrammes of our names. The transforming of letters in a word, name, or phrase, to form, a new word thereby was as common as inventing riddles and writing sonnets. N. E. D. says that the earliest recorded one is in Puttenham, English Poesie (1589), Arber's Reprint. Jonson shows how little he values them '\xv\i\'s, Execration upon Vulcan, vol. 8. 400 (cf. note 4. i. 120), but he is nevertheless the coiner of some himself, Masque of Hymen, vol. 7. 56 : Rea. Juno, whose great name Is Unio, in the anagram. sc. Ill] Notes 237 Honour of Wales, vol. 7. 330 : Ev. You will still pyt your selve to these plunses, you mean his madestee's anagrams of Charles James Stuart. Jen. Ay, that is Claims Arthur's Seate. Cf. also Babington, Queen 0/ Arrag. (1640). Haz.-Dods. 13. 334, Cleanthe admires men : Who on my busk, even with a pin, can write The anagram of my name; present it humbly. Fall back, and smiie. 48. eock-pit. Any of the numerous places of resort where the sport of cock-fighting was carried on, may be meant. The one later known as the Phoenix Theatre stood in the parish of St. Giles-in- the-Fields, and is said by Prynne to have demoralized the whole of Drury Lane. This place was torn down by the 'prentices in one of their raids on Shrove Tuesday, March 4, 1616-17. The Cock-pit in St. James's Park stood at some steps leading from the Birdcage Walk into Dartmouth Street, near the top of Queen Street. There was the no less famous Cock-pit built at Whitehall by Henry VIII, which was later used as a hall for political speeches. Then there was another in Jewin Street, and one in Shoe Lane. It was very much a thing of fashion to witness the sport of cock- fighting in Jonson's time, for it was a favorite pastime of the monarch, who went where it might be enjoyed at least twice a week. Stow says, ' Cocks of the game are yet cherished by divers men for their pleasures, much money being laid on their heads when they fight in pits, whereof some be costly made for that purpose.' 53. there be in presence. Ellipsis of the nominative; cf. Abbott, § 399. 55. a neighing hobby-horse. Originally this was a horse of Irish breed very popular in England. Later it was the name given to a horse made of wicker-work or other light material introduced into the morris and on the stage. Naturally the name of the performer came to be ' hobby-horse ', and finally it was applied in derision to any foolish person. So Much Ado 3. 2. 72 : Bened. Old Signior walk aside with me; I have studied eight or nine wise words to speak to you which these hobby-horses must not hear. 238 The Silent Woman [act iiii Act iiii. Scene IIII. 1. O my cursed angell, that instructed me to this fate. A harsh construction, in which httle excuse can be found by calling it Latinized. Cursed angell is bad angel, concerning the doctrine of which beings we find in Scot, Discoverie of Witchcraft, pp. 5, 6 ; and Lavaterus, Of Ghosts and Spirits walking by night, 160 ff. 2 Hen. IV I. 2. 186 : 'You follow the young prince up and down like his ill angel.' 2 Hen. IV 2. 4. 362 : ' There is a good angel about him.' Dekker, Old Fortunatus 1.2:' Thou hast looked very devilishly ever since the good angel left thee.' 13. bellfry. ' Belfry \s not connected with ^1?//, It is oi berfray from MH.Ger. ber{c)veit {vaodiQm Bergfriede), "place of safety", from bergen, " conceal ", and vride (modern Friede), " peace ", " pro- tection ". Its original sense was " a kind of tower ". The bells came later and are unessential.' — W. and their W., p. 337. West- minster-hall. This was a noisy place enough ; its courts of justice always in session, and its shops full of business. The building had been put up during the last three years of Richard II's reign, 1397-9. The early parliaments sat here ; the law courts were held in the open hall, the Exchequer Court at the entrance end, and the Court of Chancery and Kings at the opposite end. Part of the great hall was rented to sellers of books, stationers, sempstresses, toy-dealers, &c., and the rent went to the Warden of the Fleet. These dealers were still a nuisance in the days after the Restoration. Wycherley, Epilogue to the Plain Dealer : ' In hall of Westminster sleek semp- stress vends amidst the court her wares.' Pepys, Diary, Jan. 20, 1659-60 : 'At Westminster Hall, where Mrs. Lane and the rest of the maids had their white scarfs, all having been at the burial of a young bookseller in the Hall.' 14. i' the cock-pit. That Morose rightly named this among the noisiest places in London Brand's description confirms, Pop. A7itiq. 2. 59 flF. Especially boisterous was it when on Shrove Tuesday the game of cock-throwing was indulged in. Cf. Volp. 3. 2. 7. 237 : The bells in time of pestilence, ne'er made Like noise, or were in that perpetual motion ! The Cock-pit comes not near it. sc. iiii] Notes 239 the fall of a stagge. ' In the time of James this must have been a very noisy scene — hurrahing, blowing horns, and sounding trumpets. Sometimes the royal feet were assiduously bathed in the warm blood.' — C. tower-wharfe. Noisy because the ordnance was stored here; cf. note, i. 2. 15. 16. Belins-gate. Stow, Survey i. 2, writes that Belinsgate is ' now used as an especial port or harbor for small ships and boats coming thereto, and is now the largest Watergate on the River of Thames.' He quotes Geoffrey of Monmouth as affirming that the gate was built by Belin, a king of the Britons. He describes it further, 2. 165. In Jonson's time Billingsgate remained the busiest London wharf except Queenhithe. The fish-markets for which it became notorious were established 1599. The foul language of the fishwives and others gave a new word to the English language. Fuller, Worthies (ed. 1662), p. 197, writes : ' One may term this the Esculine Gate of London. Here one may hear Ibiguas jurgatrices! The character of the old wharf and market is unchanged to-day. 17. I would sit out a play. One of the many Jonsonian passages which has been splenetically interpreted, and charged with being written in derision of Shakespeare. This particular passage, says Malone, is aimed at Ant. and Cleop. with its simple stage direction : 'Alarum a/ar-off, as at a sea-fight'. G. has more than vindicated Jonson of such charges, in his Proofs of Ben fonson's Malignity, vol. i. 193. The references to Epiccene are 206, 208, 212, 220, and the note to the passage under con- sideration. Works 3. 423, 58. it 's melancholy. ' It is the disease called melancholy.' This was supposedly caused by a superfluous amount of black bile in the system. Black bile was one of the four liquids or humors recognized by ancient physiology as belonging to the body. The others were blood, phlegm, and bile. 60. Pliny, and Paracelsvs. The old first-century encyclo- pedist is here named with the mediaeval Paracelsus because of his studies in natural history. His writings are multifarious — military, grammatical, rhetorical, biographical, historical, besides his most important Historia Naturalis, of which thirty-seven books are pre- served. Paracelsus was a famous German-Swiss physician and alchemist who lived 1 493-1 541. A student, and later a lecturer on medicine at the University of Basel, he did much for enlightened 240 The Silent Woman [act iiii study of medicine, gave an impulse to pharmaceutical chemistry, and was the originator of a theosophic system of philosophy, but his name is associated as well with conjuring and necromancy, in which he showed interest. 70. Haue a lecture read vpon me. With this fantastical punishment Corvino threatens Celia, Volp. 2. 3, p. 219 : I will make thee an anatomy, Dissect thee mine own self, and read a lecture Upon thee to the city. Dissection of the human body had not been allowed until Elizabeth granted the privilege in 1564. 83-4. Raynard the foxe . . . call'd Denes philosophie. Of course Sir Amorous is wrong to say the Reynard story was called Done's Philosophy — a very old and popular epic originating in ^sop, and coming into English as early as June 1481, when Caxton printed his translation The History of Reynard the Fox. For detailed information cf. Froude, Short Studies in Great Subjects ; W. J. Thomas, The History of Reynard the Fox (Percy Soc. 1844). Arber in English Scholar's Library has a reprint of Caxlon's. On this latter work G. has the note : ' There was a very old collection of Oriental apologues called Calilah u Dumnah (better known as the Fables of Pilpay), which was translated about the middle of the eleventh century, out of the Persian or Arabic into Greek, by Simeon Seth : it was afterwards turned into Latin, and subse- quently into Italian, by one Doni. This last was rendered into English by Sir Thomas North, 1605, under the title oi Doni' s Moral Philosophy.' 94. you discommended them. This unusual word I find again Fotir PP, Haz.-Dods. i. 343 : ' I discommend your wit.' 101. put her to me. This is said of placing a servant in one's charge, as Beaum. and Fletch., Philasier 3. 2. 97 : Arethusa. He was your boy, and you put him to me, And the loss of such must have a mourning for. 106. Sick-mans salue. Thomas Bacon, a Calvinist divine (151 1-67), published this tract in 1561. It was kept in print by the Stationers' Company until the seventeenth century, and was for many years the butt of jokes. His works have been reprinted by the Parker Society. Beaum. and Fletch. Philaster 4. i : ' He sc. Jiii] Notes 241 looks like a mortified member as if he had a sick man's salve in 's mouth.' \n Eashvard Ho 5. 2, Quicksilver could 'speak you all the Sick Man's Salve without book'. Cf. i Sir John Oldcastle 4. 2. 106-7. Greene's groats-worth of wit. Robert Greene's last pamphlet, written just before his death, reads — 'Greens | Groats- worth of wit, I bought with a Million of | Repentmince. \ Describing the follies of youth, the falshoode of makeshift | flatterers, the miserie of the negligent, and mischiefes | of deceiving Courtezans. Written before his death, and published at his \ dying request. | Fcelicern fuisse infausium, \ Vir essetvulnere Veritas. \ London | Printed by Thomas Creede, for Richard Oliue | dwelling in long Lane and are there | to be solde. 1596 | ' This work of Greene is not famous for its story, which is rather a poor tale of two unloving brothers, but for the fact that it records the first literary reference to Shakespeare, of whose rising fame the dying author was frankly envious, and for whom he had no wiser epithet than that of the ' upstart crow ', ' the only Shake-scene in a country '. 118. Preach folke asleepe. C. thinks this story suggested by one in Latimer's Syxte Sermon, 12 Apr. 1549: 'I had rather ye should come as the tale is by the gentlewoman of London. One of her neyghbours mette her in the streate, and sayde, " Mestres, whether go ye 1" " Mary ", sayd she, " I am goynge to S. Thomas of Acres to the sermon. I could not slepe all thys laste nyght, and I am goynge now thither. I never fayled of a good nap there " ; and so I had rather ye should go a napping to the sermons, than not to go at all.' Mayne, City Match 4. 2 : AuR. One that preaches the next parish once a week Asleep for thirty pounds a year. 1 1 9-20. An old woman that was their physitian. Cunning- women were commonly consulted as physicians. Stubbes, Ajiat. of Ad., part 2. 53 : ' Now a dales euerie man, tagge and ragge, of what insufiiciencie soeuer, is suffered to exercise the misterie of physick, and surgerie, and to minister both the one and the other, to the diseased, and infirmed persons ; but to their woe, you may be sure. Yes, you shall haue some that know not a letter of the books (so farre are they from being learned or skilful in the toongs, as they ought to be that should practise these misteries) both men and women, yoong and old, that, presuming vpon experiences forsooth 242 The Silent Woman [act iiii (for that is the greatest skill) will arrogate great knowledge to themselues, and more than the learnedest doctor vpon the earth will doe/ p. 54 : 'I would wish that euery ignorant doult, and especially women, that haue as much knowledge in physick or surgery as hath lackanapes . . . should be restrained from the public use thereof.' William Clowes, A short and profitable treatise, SjC. (London, 1579), speaking of poor doctors says: 'Yet I do not mean to speak of the old woman at Newington, beyond St. Georges Fields, unto whom people resort as unto an oracle ; neither will I speak of the woman on the Bankside, who is as cunning as the horse at the Cross Keys ; nor yet of the cunning woman in Seacole Lane.' There is satire in plenty against the medical profession in general : Edward Hake, News out of Paul's Churchyard, satires 3, 4 ; Joseph Hall, Virgideviiarum, bk. 2, sat. 4. 138. ladanum? or opium? Ladanum must here be used as a synonym of the tincture of opium, laudanum ; it cannot mean ladanum, the modern word for a stomachic made from certain plants grown in Spain, Crete, Syria, &c. Opium is the inspissated juice of Papaver somniferum, a poppy cultivated from early anti- quity for the sake of its medicinal property, which was known to the Greeks, but was not made efficient use of until the seventeenth century. It is at present the most important of all medicines {Cent. Diet). 148-9. some diuine ... or canon-Lawyer. The divine could advise from a purely theological point of view ; the canon-lawyer would know the ecclesiastical law in the case. Phillimore, Eccles. Law of the Church i. 548 ff., states that marriage was controlled by civil law under Justinian. The Church made the ceremony public ; St. Augustine gave it a more religious signi- ficance, and in the ninth century the civil and ecclesiastical law of marriage became one. Roman canon law was applicable in Eng- land until ' other civil regulations interfered '. At the Reformation, marriage was determined to be no longer a sacrament, but it ' retained those rules of the canon law which had their foundation not in the sacrament or in any religious view of the subject, but in the natural and civil contract of marriage '. Ibid. i. 638 : ' Till the passing of the 20 & 21 Vict. c. 85 (1857) EngHsh ecclesiastical courts had jurisdiction in all cases of marriage. By that Act . . . sc. II ii] Notes 243 [it] was vested in the Court of Divorce and Matrimonial causes.' This court is now merged in the High Court of Justice. 158. Is that his keeper. Haughty's query emphasizes the possibility of Morose's madness, and shows in what uncompli- mentary terms she speaks of Dauphine. Contrast her conduct toward him in Act 5. 2. 166. set me i' the nicke. Subtle prophesies that Dapper shall win at all games, Alchem. i. i, p. 29 : If I do give him a familiar, Give you him all you play for ; never set him : For he will have it. Nice Wanton, Haz.-Dods. 2. 171 : Iniq. Here, sirs, come on; seven — [^They sei hwi.'\ Eleven at all — IsM. Do you nick us? Middleton, Blurt, Master-Constable 2. 2 : The masque dogg'd me, I hit it in the nick ; A fetch to get my diamond, my dear stone. Scott, Fortunes of Nigel, ch. 23 : 'If honest Jack Hildebrod puts you not in the way of nicking them all, may he never cast doublets.' 167. primero. Drake thinks it the 'most ancient game of cards'. Nares gives: 'Mr. Daniel Barrington, in the Archaeologi, vol. 8. 132 : "Each player had four cards dealt to him, one by one; the seven was the highest card in point of number that he could avail himself of, which counted for 21 ; the six counted for 1 8 ; the five for 1 5 ; and ace for the same ; but the two, three, and four for their respective points only. The knave of diamonds was commonly fixed upon for the quinola, which the player might make what card or suit he thought proper; if the cards were of different suits, the highest number was the primero (or prime) ; but if they were all of one colour, he that held them won the Jltish.'' ' Perhaps the game of Prime mentioned by Sir John Harrington in his satirical descriptions of court games is the same. However great was its early popularity, it was so much out of fashion by 1680 that it is not included in the Compleat Gamester of that year. Despite the many references attesting its popularity and its special use among gamblers, all points concerning it as a game are not 244 The Silent Woman [act iiii clear. There is an epigram on Priviero in Dodsley, i. i68. M. W. of W. 4. 5. 104: 'I never prospered since I foreswore myself at primero.' In Henry VIII 5. i. 7, the king and the Duke of Suffolk play at primero. In Pappe with an Hatchet it is said : ' If you had the foddring of the sheep you would make the Church like Primero, foure religions in it, and nere one like another.' Cf. Dekker, Behnan of London, Pr. Wks. 3. 125; and Taylor, History of Playing Cards, 1865, p. 267. 192. cast of kastrils. These hawks were the sort allotted by law for servants to use when hawking. Nashe, Lenten Stuffe (Harl. Misc.) 6. 170: ' Kistrilles or windsuckers, that filling themselues with winde, fly against the wind euermore.' Cf. note, i. 4. 77 on windsucker. Hawking grew to the zenith of its popularity under James I, who pursued it with much pleasure, and made it one of the most splendid amusements of the court. Strutt, Sports and Past. 31, writes: 'The practise of hawking declined from the moment the musket was brought to perfection ... At the commence- ment of the seventeenth century it was in the zenith of its glory. At the close of the same century the sport was rarely practised, and a few years afterwards hardly known.' There are many old treatises on the subject : Treatise on Hawking, Dame Juliana Barnes (Wynkyn De Worde), 1496; The Booke of Faulco?irie, or Hawking, George Tuberville, Gentleman, 1575; Gentlemen s Aca- demie, Gervase Markham, 1595; fewelfor Gentrie, 161 4; Country Contentments, Gervaise Markham, 1619; Hawks atid Hawking, Edmund Best, 1619. Act iiii. Scene V. 18. an execution to serue vpon 'hem. An execution is the means whereby the senience of the law is put in force. It was in the form of a writ, or order, generally directed to the sheriff, and served by him upon the party. The writ capias ad satisfaciendu??i commanded the sheriff to take the party's body into custody, and is the one jocularly referred to here ; cf. Blackstone, Comm. bk. 3, ch. 26, § 415. 29. Doe you obserue this gallerie. The structure of the early theatre was exceedingly simple. The uncurtained stage projected sc. v] Notes 245 into the pit ; it afforded no side entrances, but was reached by two doors opening from the back, which would serve as the studies here. There was a gallery above, which was used for many purposes — Juliet's balcony, Palamon and Arcite's prison, Jessica's window, or as a vantage-ground for actor spectators as those in Act 4. 6. 30. a couple of studies. This room seems to have been a part of many Elizabethan houses. Jul. Caesar 2. i. 7 : 'Get me a taper in my study, Lucius.' Rom. and Jul. 3. 3. 75 : ' Run to my study.' Beaum. and Fletch. Elder Brother i. 2. 31. tragi-eomcedy. Plays contemporary with Epiccetie bear this classification, which the author of several defines in his Preface to the Reader, The Faithful Shepherdess, a pastoral tragi-comedy. Fletcher there writes : ' A tragi-comedy is not so called in respect of mirth and killing, but in respect it wants deaths, which is enough to make it no tragedy, yet brings some near it, which is enough to make it no comedy, which must be a representation of familiar people, with such kind of trouble as no life to be questioned ; so that a god is as lawful in this as in a tragedy, and mean people as in a comedy.' Guelphes, and the Ghibellines. A comical application of the names designating in Italy, from the thirteenth to the seventeenth century, the two striving parties of the state. The former were the papal and popular party, the latter the aristocratic and imperial party. 33. you two shall be the chorus. The Greek custom of intro- ducing in tragedies a chorus to witness and comment on the action of a drama was not quite obsolete in English plays. The first English tragedy, Gorboduc, or Ferrex and Porrex, printed 1565, has a chorus, and Shakespeare varied the device in Henry V, where Chorus is almost synonymous to Prologue, being a speaker who appears to outline the action of each Act. Jonson, in the inter- means of his comedies, often makes use of groups of people, whose function he tends to narrow to critical comment, but who, never- theless, are analogous to the classic chorus. 34. the arras. These tapestry hangings, with their designs of landscapes and human groups, covered the walls of the rooms in the better houses. In early days the arras was hung close to the walls, but later, in order to preserve the fabric from the damp, it was attached to wooden frames, leaving between it and the wall a space large enough for a person to conceal himself in. As 246 77?^ Silent Woman [act iiii a device for dramatists it became popular to place eaves-dropping persons behind the arras; of. Hamlet 3. 3. 28; King Johti 4. i. 2 ; Much Ado I. 3. 63, &c. 42. betweene whoni. Shakespeare keeps the nominative case in the same question, Hamlet 2. 2. 194 : Pol. What is the matter, my lord ? Ham. Between who.'' 71. protested, a coward. So in Beaum. and Fletch. Little French Lawyer i. i : * Thou wouldst not willingly live a protested coward, or be call'd one ?' Cf, note, 4. 2. 116. 98-9. set out to take possession. In the days when property might be begged on various pretexts (cf. 4. 7. 5 and note) the new owners sometimes had a dangerous time in entering on their estates. 107. some-bodies old two-hand-sword. This is here merely the ordinary long sword, sometimes called two-hand, because of its length and awkwardness in comparison to the more modern rapier. Taine, Eng. Lit. i. 172, says: 'About the twentieth year of Elizabeth's reign the nobles gave up shield and two-handed sword for the rapier,' The real two-hand sword was at one time the distinctive weapon of the German lansquenets, mercenary foot- soldiers taking part in the French religious wars. It was an enormous weapon, with a straight expanding blade of portentous size, double-edged, sharp at the point, long in the hilt, with massive cross-guard, and spiked at the base of the blade. 108-9. that sword hath spawn'dsuch a dagger. The same comic allusion is repeated Neiv Inn 2. 2, p. 338 : Fly. He has the father of swords within, a long sword. As for the dagger, it was worn as a sign of gentihty in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries ; it was often richly ornamented and jeweled. It was generally worn at the girdle, a little in front of the sword, as many illustrations show ; but there seems to have been a time, at least in Italy, when it was worn at the back. Cf. Rom. and Jul. 5. 3. 205 : Cap. This dagger hath mista'en — for, lo, his house Is empty on the back of Montague. 110. ealliuers. An interesting history of the word is found in Maitland, History of London, and quoted by Fairholt : ' Before the sc. v] Notes 247 battle of Mountguntur, the princes of the religion caused several thousand harquebusses to be made, all of one calibre, which was called Harquebuse de Calibre de Monsieur le Prince: so I think some man, not understanding French, brought hither the name of the height of the bullet of the piece, which word calibre is yet continued with our good canoniers.' Whether this is an entirely true account or not, it is at least certain that it was a light harquebus introduced into England in the sixteenth century, and was the lightest portable firearm, excepting the pistol, and was fired without a rest. muskets. The home of these weapons, which succeeded the awkward harquebus, was Spain. It was not until 1851 that their successors arrived in the shape of the Enfield rifle, which was a welcome change, since the musket was so heavy that it was often fired on a rest, and so poor a mechanism that the soldier had to carry with him a powder-flask, bullet-bag, bandoleers, and a match- cord or twisted tow, in order to use it at all. 111. Justice of peace's hall. There is a description of one of these official weapon-museums in Drake, Sh. and his Times, p. 24, taken from Malcolm, Anecdotes of the Manners and Customs of London, part i. 220: 'The halls of the justice of peace were dreadful to behold. The skreen was garnished with corselets and helmets, gaping with open mouths, with coats of mail, launces, pikes, halberts, brown bills, bucklers.' 113. fencer challeng'd at so many seuerall foiles. Strutt, Sports and Past., p. 2 6 1 , quotes from The Third University of England (1615) : ' In this city there be manie professors of the science of de- fence, and very skilful men in teaching the best and most off"ensive and defensive use of verie many weapons, as of the long-sword, back- sword, rapier, and dagger, single rapier, the case of rapiers, the sword and buckler, or targets, the pike, the halberd, the long-staff, and others.' Cf. note, i. i. 181, for Pepys's account of a fencing bout ' at eight weapons '. Henry VIII made the professors of fence a company or corporation by letters patent, in which fencing is called ' The Noble Science of Defence '. Practice of it grew so widespread ' that in 1595 the queen issued a proclamiation to hmit and control "the schools of fence" in which "the multitude and the common people " were being taught " to play at all kinds of weapons ", and the size of the rapier and dagger were regulated '. Traill, Social Eng. 3. 574. 248 The Silent Woman [act iiii 114-15. Saint P vlchres parish. St. Sepulchre, in the ward of Farringdon Without, was an unwholesome locality, for Traill, Social Eng., quotes a medical writer of the year 1564 to the effect that twice in his memory the plague had begun in St. Sepulchre's parish (S. Poulkar) 'by reason of many fruiterers, poor people, and stink- ing lanes, as Turnagain Lane, Sea-coal Lane, and other such places '. Pie Corner, famous in story, was in this parish, a few yards north of the church. 115-16. victuall himselfe ... in his breeches. Every one familiar with pictures of James I knows what great, awkward nether garments he affected, partly for fashion and partly for protection against assassination. Planchd writes : ' The costume of England in the reign of James I was little more than a continuation of the dress in the latter portion of Queen Elizabeth. The long-waisted, peascod bellied doublet remained in vogue, and the conical hat, and large Gallic or Venetian hose, slashed, quilted, stuffed, and guarded (laced) were worn as before, but increased in size, from the quantity of stuffing used in them, which owes its adoption, according to a contemporary writer, to the pusillanimity of the new monarch, who " had his cloathing made large, and even the doublets quilted, for fear of stellets (stilettoes). His breeches in great plaits and full stuffed ".' Great breeches had, however, been worn even before the days of Elizabeth, and in the fourth and fifth years of Philip and Mary an order was made by the Society of the Middle Temple that no member should wear ' great breeches ' in their hose, after the Dutch, Spanish, or Alman fashion on pain of forfeiting 35-. i^d. for the first and second offence. The fashion was not ignored by the satirists. Lodge and Greene's Looking Glasse for Londo7i and E7tgla?id {i^g^), has a character who hides beef and beer in his breeches to sustain him on fast days ; Samuel Rowland, Knaves 0/ Spades and Diamonds, compares ' the great large abhominable breech' to' brewers hop-sack ers ' ; Butler , Nudidras 1. 1: With a huge pair of round-trunk hose, In which he carried as much meat As he and all his knights could eat. 167-8. broke some lest vpon him. N. E. D. quotes an occurrence of this expression as late as \%'^% Eraser's Mag. 2>. 54 : ' The landlord and waiter . . . were not suffered to do anything, save to break their jokes on the members.' It is very common at sc. v] Notes 249 the time of our play, and before. Lyly, Campaspe 2.1; Much Ado \ . \ . '^,29, ; Two G.q/'Ver. ■^.i. ^8. We still speak of ' breaking news '. 170-1. went away in snuffe. G. thinks this phrase is derived from 'the offensive manner' in which a candle goes out; Southey thinks it refers rather ' to a sudden emotion of anger, seizing a man, as snuff takes him, by the nose '. The last supposition is supported by the many plays on the word found in the writers of this day, but especially by the pun in i Hen. IV i. 3. 39, where Hotspur jokes about the pouncet-box, which a certain lord Gave his nose and took 't away again ; Who therewith angry, when it next came there. Took it in snuff. Poei. 2. I, p. 393 : * For I tell you true, I take it highly in snuff to learn how to entertain gentlefolks of you, at these years.' 175. walkes the round. From a quotation of G., The Castle or Picture 0/ Policy (1581), this is found to be a reminiscence of a military expression : ' The general, high marshall with his pro- vosts, serjeant-general, . . . gentlemen in a company or of the rounde, launce passado. These ', says the author, ' are special ; the other that remain, private or common soldiers '. The duty of these men, W. explains, was to inspect such men as ' centinels, watches, and advanced guards ; and from their office of going their rounds, they derive their name'. Cf. Every Man In 3. 5, p. 81 : ' Your decayed, ruinous, worm-eaten gentlemen of the round ' ; and Alchetn. 3. 2, p. 96 : 'I have walk'd the round '. 191. Hee'll out- wait a sargeant. Neither for well-known persistence nor for less commendable characteristics was this officer admired by his contemporaries. Earle, Micro-C. p. 57 : 'A ser- geant or Catch-pole is one of Gods ludgements ; and which our Roarers doe only conceiue terrible.' In Overbury's Characters, The Sergeant has a place for detailed consideration : ' The devil calls him his white son . . . For Sergeant is quasi, See-argent, look you, rogue, here is money.' Then Dekker, A Paradox in praise, Pr. Wks. i. 353 ff. : ' What should I say more of Sergeants, though I cannot speake too much of them ? they are the painfullest members of the common-wealth : they are the lawes Factors, the citizens men of warre, that bring in bad Dettors, who like pirates R 250 The Silent Woman [act iiii haue seized vpon others goods, as lawful prize ; they are the Scriueners good Lords and maisters, they are Relieuers of prisons and good Benefactors to Vintners Hall : they are keepers of yong gentlemen from whore-houses, and driuers of poore Handy-craft men from bowling allies. In one word they are the only bringers home of the prodigall Child to feede vpon the veale after he hath liued vpon Acorns.' 199. sir A-Iax Ms inuention. This gibe is aimed at Sir John Harrington and his small treatise on sanitary matters pub- lished 1596. G. in a detailed note, vol. 3. 439, concludes: 'His gains from his well-timed labours were apparently confined to the honour of contributing to the merriment of the wits, Shakespeare, Jonson, Nabbes, and many others, who took advantage of his own pun (a-jakes), and dubbed him a knight of the stool ; . . . Even the grave Camden condescends to be facetious at his expense.' Cf. Camden, Remains, p. 117; Jonson, Epig. 133^ vol. 8. 239; Z. Z. Z. 5. 2. 575. Sir John Harrington (i 561-16 12), who was a favorite of Queen Elizabeth, was temporarily banished from Court for his Metamorphosis of Ajax. A license was refused for printing this work, but it went through three impressions ; a new edition of 100 copies was printed at Chiswick, 1814. Harrington's other works were Orlando Furioso, 1591 ; Epigrams, 1615; Englishman's Doctor, 1609; and Nugae Antiquae, a miscellaneous collection of original papers in prose and verse. 231. a whiniling dastard. Just what the adj. means can be only conjectured. The nearest approach to it is the noun whimling, ' idiot ', a not uncommon word ; cf. Death of Robert, Earl of Huntingdon i. 2, Haz.-Dods. 8. 231 : ' He keeps a paltry whimHng girl.' Beaum. and Fletch., Coxcomb 4. 7 : Mother. ' Go, whim- ling, and fetch two or three grating loaves Out of the kitchen to make gingerbread of.' Jonson, Love Restored, vol. 7. 203 : ' Alarum came that one of the whimlins had too much.' Dekker, i Honest Whore i. 2 : Fustigo. 'He's a very mandrake, or else (God bless us) one a' these whiblins, and that 's worse.' ' Barnes, the Dorset- shire poet, gives, as a West of England word, Whindlin, small and weakly.' — C. 236. make a motion. What sounds like Robert's Rules of Order is a common expression enough, e. g. Every Man Out 2. I, p. 66: FuNGOso. 'Faith, uncle, I would have desired you to sc. v] Notes 251 have made a motion for me to my father.' It affords many a pun with the other meaning of 'puppet-show'. 238. catastrophe. Jonson has seriously defined what is meant by this term, taken from Greek dramatic criticism, in Mag. Lady I. I. pp. 28 fF. ; and in the outline of Act 5, The New Inn, p. 302. 249-50. if euery iest thou mak'st were not publish'd. Cf. 2. 4. 112, and note. 253. There 's a carpet. Of woven covers for chairs and tables we get some information from Harrison in Holinshed, vol. i. 317 : * Manie farmers ... by vertue of their old and not of their new leases, haue for the most part learned also to garnish their cupboards with plate, their ioined beds with tapestrie and silke hangings, and their tables with carpets and fine naperie, whereby the wealth of our countrie (God be praised therefore . . .) dooth infinithe appeare.' Cf. New Inn i. i, p. 321 : Host. Will they not throw My household-stuff out first, cushions and carpets, Chairs, stools, and bedding? is not their sport my ruin? S. of News I. 2, p. 172 : 'Set forth the table, the carpet, and the chair.' 262. It doth so. So used redundantly ; cf. Abbott, § 63, and Epiccene 5. 3. 18 : 'Many will do so.' 274. because you shall be. Because means 'in order that'. Cf. Bacon, Essays, Marriage and Single Life : ' There are some foolish rich covetous men that take a pride in having no children because they may be thought so much the richer'; and Matt. 20. 31 : 'And the multitude rebuked them, because they should hold their peace.' Cf. note, Dedic. 8, By cause. 293. I haue had a hundred, sir. Daw's naive frankness in confessing his passive submission to punishment is paralleled by Overdo's acceptation of his beating, and his blindness to the ludicrousness of it : ' When, sitting at the upper end of my table, as I use, ... I deliver to them, it was I that was cudgeled, and show them the marks.' Bar. Fair 3. 7, p. 417. So behaved another hero in the Knickerbocker History of New York, bk. 5, ch. 9. 206: 'Von Paffenburgh is said to have received more kicking . . . than any of his comrades, in consequence of which he had been promoted — being considered a hero who had seen service, suffered in his country's cause.' R 2 252 The Silent Woman [act iiii 309-10. against the hilts. The plural is used as commonly as the singular, a fact concerning which Mr. Deighton writes : ' This word is commonly explained in dictionaries as the handle of the sword. It is, however, not the handle itself, but the protection of the handle . . . Formerly it consisted of a steel bar projecting at right angles to the blade on each side. This form of the two transverse projections explains the use of the plural.' Cf. Every 3Ian In 2. 5, p. 57 : ' sucked the hilts' ; 3. i, p. 67 : ' I could eat the very hilts' ; 4. i, p. 103 : ' I'll run my rapier to the hilts in you.' Jul. Caes. 5. 3. 43 : ' Here, take thou the hilts' ; ibid. 5. 5. 28: 'Hold thou my sword-hilts whilst I run on it.' I Hen. IV 2. 4. 230 : ' Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else.' Dekker, Witch of Edmonton 2.1: Mother Saw. Thou art in love with her ? Cuddy. Up to the very hilts. 322. at the blunt : i. e. with the flat of the sword. 339. All hid, sir lohn. This is a well-known signal in what Biron, L. L. L. 4. 3. 77, calls: 'AH hid, all hid; an old infant play.' Brand, Pop. Antiq. 2. 391 writes of this game: 'There was an old sport among children, called in Hamlet, " Hide fox and all after", which, if I mistake not, is the same game that elsewhere occurs under the name of " all hid ", v/hich, as Steevens tells us, is alluded to in Dekker's Satiromastix : " Our unhandsome-faced poet does play at bo-peep with your grace, and cries all-hid, as boys do ". In a curious little book entitled A Curtaine Lecture, 1637, p. 206, is the following passage: "A sport called all-hid, which is a mere children's pastime ".' 345. Damon & Pythias. The story of these famous friends dates from the fourth century b. c. The latter, a Pythagorean of Syracuse, was condemned to die for plotting against the life of Dionysius I. Damon gave himself as hostage for his friend while Pythias went to bid farewell to his kindred. When the doomed man returned, Hberating Damon at the last moment, Dionysius was so moved by their perfect friendship that he released both men and adopted the philosophy of Pythagoras. sc. VI] Notes -^ 253 Act nil. Scene VI 4. vtter'd 'hem in the coUedge. Utier is nsed in the sense of ' disposed of in the way of trade ' or ' made pass current as worthy'. Cf. Every Man In 3. 2, p. 80: 'He would utter his father's dried stock-fish.' Winter's Tale 4. 4. 329: 'Money's a medlar, That doth utter all men's ware-a.' Upton's suggestion to change utter to usher seems unnecessary. 6. braueries. Not 'gallants' as in i. i. 78, but the fin'^f^^attire which they wore, Cf. Every Man In i, r, p. 11 : Knowel. Nor would I, you should melt away yourself In flashing bravery. . . . 27. their faces set in a brake. Generally a framework intended to hold anything steady, as a horse's hoof when being shod, the meaning is here figurative, 'to assume an immovable expression of countenance ' ; cf. N. E. D. for similar examples. The fad for stiff attire, the starch, the wire,'the bumbasted clothing, must have conduced to a most inflexible carriage of the body. Underwoods 9, vol. 8. 303 : Drest, you still for man should take him; And not think he 'd eat a stake, Or were set up in a brake. Every Man Out 2. i, p. 58 : Carlo says of Puntarvolo — ' Heart, can any man walk more upright than he does .? Look, look ; as if he went in a frame, or had a suit of wainscot on '. Earle, Micro- C. no. 9 : ' The chief burden of his braine is the carriage of his body and the setting of his face in a good frame.' 29. purer linnen. Stubbes does not at all approve of the daintiness of a gallant's linen, p. 53: 'Their shirtes, which all in a manner doe weare (for if the Nobilitie or Gentrie onely did weare them, it were somedeal more tolerable), are eyther Camericke, Holland, Lawn, or else of the finest cloth that maye bee got. . . . And these shurts are wrought through out with needle work of silke, and such like, and curiouslie stitched with open seame, and many other knackes besydes.' 30. french hermaphrodite. A scornful word not seldom in Jonson's mouth; cf. i. i. 81 and note; also S. 0/ News i. i, p. 161. 36-7. for such a nose ... Or such a leg. All the ridiculous \ 254 TJne Silent Woman [act hit minutiae of compliment Jonson makes use of again and again, as when Phantaste comments on Asotus, Cyn. Rev. 4. i, p. 276: ' Such a nose w^re enough to make me love a man, now.' Of the many old r^omedies playing with the conceit of the wearers of silk stockir^gs, and frankly complimentary ladies, perhaps the most famous, instance is that of the cross-gartered Malvolio. Cf. Field, W. Vi a Weathercock 1.2: Kate- The hose are comely. Luc.. And then his left leg ; I never see it, but I think on a plyim-tree. /\BRAHAM. Indeed, there 's reason there should be some differ- efice in my legs, for one cost me twenty pounds more than the other. Wily Beguiled (1613) : ' Strut before her in a pair of Polonian legs as if he were a gentleman usher to the great Turke, or to the Devil of Dowgate.' 38. a very good lock : a love-lock ; cf. note 3. 5. 70. 45. vnbrac'd our brace of knights. In this pun it should be remembered that unbrace used to mean 'disarm'. 47. ingine. Jonson' s favorite word to express plan or plot occurs with especial frequency in Sejanus, and gives the name Engine to a schemer in D. A. Cf. Sej. 3. i, p. 70; 5. 5, p. 125 ; Mag. Lady 5. i, p. 91 ; &c. Engim was the OF. form, Willia?n 0/ Pal erne, 286: 'Mult sot la dame engine et mal', followed by Chaucer, and so spelled with e in Mid. Eng. 51. Havghty is kissing. This courtly habit was harshly satirized and much preached against. Minsheu, Pleasant and Delighlfull Dialogues (1623), pp. 51-2: 'I hold that the greatest cause of dissoluteness in some women in England is the custome of kissing publiquely, for that by this meanes they lose their shame- fastnesse, and at the very touch of the kisse there entreth into them a poison which doth infect them.' Marston, Dutch Courtezan (1605) 3. i; Works 2. 144 : ' Boddy a beautie ! 'tis one of the most unpleasing, injurious, customes to ladyes ; any fellow that has but one nose on his face, and standing collar, and skirtes also, lined with taffety, sarcenet, must salute us on the lipps as familiarly.' Puritane (1607) 2. i : 'Nay, you must stand me till I kiss you; 'tis the fashion everywhere i' faith, and I came from court even now.' sc. VI] Notes 255 61-2. all their actions are gouerned by crude opinion. Less bitterly Shakespeare had said, Two G. of Ver. i. 2. 22 : LucETTA. I have no other but a woman's reason : I think him so, because I think him so. 73. Pylades and Orestes. Cf. Every Man Out 4. 4, p. 140: SoGLiARDO. Ay, he is my Pylades, and I am his Orestes : how like you the conceit ? Carlo. O, 'tis an old stale interlude device. 76-7. in your countenance, or outward bearing. There is the same significance in cotmtenance when in the Prologue to Sir Thopas the host says of Chaucer : He semeth elvish by his contenance. For un-to no wight dooth he daliaunce. 98. my boy had it forth. ' Gentlemen were followed in the streets by their servants who carried their master's sword. Their dress was blue, with the master's badge in silver on the left arm.' — Besant, London, P- 310. Forth used without a verb of motion ; cf. Abbott, § 41. 100. my gold handle was broke. The gay weapons carried by the two knights were the rapier or small sword, which had come into fashion some twenty years after Elizabeth became queen. She had been forced to pass a sumptuary law limiting its length to three feet. They were worn largely for decoration in Jonson's time. Dekker, Lanthorne and Candle- Light, Pr. Wks. 3. 220: 'An accomplished gallant, with all acoutrements belonging (as a fether for his head, gilt rapier for his sides, & new boots to hide his polt foote).' Justice Shallow does not think the French weapon can compare with the old-fashioned English long sword ; M. W. 0/ W. 2. I. 2^1: 'I have seen the time, with my long sword I would have made you four tall fellows skip like rats.' Stubbes, Anat. of Ab., p. 62, in his violent disapproval describes them care- fully: ' To these haue they their rapiers, Swords, and Daggers, gilt twice or thrice ouer the hilts, with . . . scaberds and sheathes of Veluet or the like ; for leather, though it be more profitable and as seemely, yet wil it not carie such a porte or countenance like the other. And will not these golden swords & daggers almoste apale a man (though otherwise neuer so stout a martialist) to haue any deling with them ? for either to that end they be worne, or els 256 The Silent Woman [act iiii other swords and rapiers of bar yron and Steele were as hansom as they, & much more conducible to that end whereto swords and rapiers should serue, namely, for a mans lawful and godly defence against his aduersarie in time of necessitie.' 103. What a consent there is, i' the handles. G. calls this a Platonism. Cf. Volp. 3. 2, p. 234: 'There is a concent in face in voice, and clothes.' Act iiii. Scene VII. 5. your house had been beg'd. ' By the old common law there is a writ de idiota inquirendo, to inquire whether a man be an idiot, or not : which must be tried by a jury of twelve men ; and, if they find \ivccipurus idiota, the profits of his lands and custody of his person may be granted by the king to some subject who has interest enough to obtain them.' — Blackstone, Comm. bk. i, ch. 8, § 303. Under Henry VIII the term came to cover in its meaning cases of concealments, i. e. land possessed under false pretenses which had belonged to dissolved monasteries and the like. Strype, Annals 0/ Elizabeth 2. 209, says that 'this commission for conceal- ments was withdrawn in 1572, but for many years property was an unstable possession,' if some rapacious courtier could make an accu- sation smacking of treason against a landowner whose estate he envied '. Murder in a house did not look well, to say the least, nor sound well even in manner of a jest. Cf. Poet. 5. i, p. 481 : Tuc. ' Remember to beg their lands betimes ; before some of these hungry court-hounds scent it out.' Jack^Drum's Entertainment, Haz.-Dods.: 'I have followed ordinaries this twelve month, onely to find a foole that had landes, or a fellow that would talke treason, that I might beg him.' 7. For man-slaughter, sir. C. calls attention to the fact that, not long before, the laws for this crime had been made more stringent. Blackstone, Comm. bk. 4, ch. 14: 'On account of the frequent quarrels, and stabbings with short daggers, between the Scotch and the English at the accession of James I. . . . It hath been resolved that killing a man by throwing a hammer, or other weapon, is not within the statute ; and whether a shot with a pistol be so, or not, is doubted.' But swords, rapiers, and daggers were. sc. vii] Notes 257 12. such a noyse i' the court. This is from Libanius, but applicable to England. Cf. note, Westviinster 4. 4. 13. In Jonson's list of terms following he has been almost outdone by Dekker, Guls Horn-Booke, p, 245, in his recitation of the terms heard in a threepenny ordinary : ' If they chance to discourse, it is of nothing but of Statutes, Bonds, Recognizances, Fines, Recoueries, Audits, Rents, Subsidies, Surties, Inclosures, Liueries, Inditernents, Outlawries, Feoffments, Judgments, Commissions, Banker outs, Amerce- ments, and of such horrible matter.' 40. out o' them two. A construction, despite the fact that it issues from the scholar True-wit's mouth, which cannot be vindicated. 43-4. a ciuill gowne with a welt. A civil gown would be the usual garb of the civil lawyer of the time. The welt of fur or velvet was called likewise a gard, and is often mentioned. Greene, Quippefor an Vpstart Courtier, speaks of ' A blacke clothe gown, welted and failed ' ; and later, ' I saw fiue fat fellows, all in damask cotes and gowns welted with veluet, verie braue '. 47-8. And I hope, without wronging the dignitie of either profession. Jonson is using the ounce of prevention method, for his treatment of the law in Poet, had brought down such criticism that he printed the answer in the Apol. Dial. p. 514 : Pol. No ! why, they say you tax'd The law and lawyers, captains and the players. By their particular names. AuT. It is not so. I used no name. My books have still been taught To spare the persons, and to speak the vices . . . But how this should relate unto our laws. Or the just ministers, with least abuse, I reverence both too much to understand ! In Satiromastix, p. 244, Tucca says on this subject: ' He tell thee why, because th' ast entred Actions of assault and battery, against a companie of honourable and worshipful Fathers of the law ; you wrangling rascall, law is one of the pillars of the land, and if thou beest bound too 't (as I hope thou shalt bee) thou 't prooue a skip- lacke, thou 't be whipt.' 258 The Silent Woman [act v Act V. Scene I. 12. a riddle in Italian. Roger Ascham speaks plainly of what he considers the immoral influence in the prevailing fashion of Italian literature, travel, and customs, in The Scholemaster, Arber's Reprint, pp. 77 ff., and he quotes the popular saying ' Englese Italianato, e un diabolo incarnato ', of the truth of which he expresses conviction. Jonson uses riddle (cf. 5. 2. 44) less innocently than the word merits; cf. Volp. 5. i, p. 292 : MoscA. Go home, and use the poor Sir Pol, your knight, well, For fear I tell some riddles ; go, be melancholy. 14. I am no scriuener. Clerimont pretends wrath at the insinuation that he is a scrivener. This lawyer's assistant in the drawing up of deeds, contracts, &c., was notorious for his dis- honesty. Cf. Stubbes, Anai. 0/ Ab., \i. i22>: ' There be no men so great doers in this noble facultie and famous science (of usury) as the scriueners be . . . the Scriuener is the Instrument wherby the Diuell worketh the frame of this wicked work of Vsurie.' Dekker, Seuen Deadly Sinnes, Pr. Wks. 2. 37 : ' Scriueners haue base sonnes, and they all common Brokers ' ; ibid., Lanthorne and Candle- Light 3. 207 : ' They haue no paper (in hell), but all things are engrossed in Parchment, and that Parchment is made of Scriueners skinnes fiead off after they haue been punished for Forgerie.' 1 7. his boxe of instruments. This convenience was assumed by such proper people as Ambler, the gentleman-usher to Lady Tailbush, Z>. ^. 5. i, p. 124: 'A fine new device I had to carry my pen and ink, my civet, and my tooth-picks, all under one.' 23. Nomentack. 'An Indian chief, from Virginia, who was brought to England some years before this was written.' — G. 24. the Prince of Moldauia. Aloldavia was a former prin- cipality, now a part of Roumania, bounded by Bukowina on the north, by the Pruth on the east, Wallachia on the south, and the Car- pathians on the west. It was founded in the fourteenth century, and became tributary to Turkey in the fifteenth. What princely representative of this far-off" land had ever come to London I am unable to discover. 27. lets wanton it. Cf. 2. 6. 26 for another example of the sc. I] Notes 259 quasi-redundant it; N.E.D., It, B. II. 9; Abbott, § 226. So in 3 Hen. VI 3. 3. 225: 'To revel it with him and his bride.' W. and their Ways, p. 306, traces the history of the word from its original meaning of ' not well brought up ' through ' perverse ' or ' without motive ' to its present force of ' licentious '. 44-5. you come as high from Tripoly . . . lift as many iony'd stooles. Tripoly is explained by Gilford as a 'jest nominal ', which depends chiefly on the first syllable of the word. From the allusions made to it, it can safely be assumed to have been a feat of jumping, apparently an indoor sport, and doubtless meriting the derision it is subjected to. These sports are coupled Cyn. Rev. i. i, p. 217 : 'Hercules might challenge priority of us both, because he can throw the bar farther, or lift more join'd stools at the arm's end, than we.' Beaum. and Fletch., Monsieur Thomas 4. 2: Get up to that window there, and presently, Like a most compleat gentleman, come from Tripoly. Jonson, Epig. 115, vol. 8. 218: 'Can come from Tripoly, leap stooles, and wink.' 46. if you would vse it : i. e. ' practise it '. 64. the great bed at Ware. Nares tells of this monstrous old piece of furniture, that it is ' celebrated by Shakespeare and Jonson, is said to be still in being, and visible at the Crown Inn, or at the Bull, in that town. It is reported to be twelve feet square, and to be capable of holding twenty or twenty-four persons ; but in order to accommodate that number, they must lie at top and bottom, with their feet meeting in the middle.' The truth is the bed is still to be seen at Rye House, a hotel four miles nearer London than Ware. Cf. Twelfth Night 3. 2. 49 : ' And as many lies as will lie in thy sheet of paper, though the sheet were big enough for the bed of Ware in England.' Farquhar, Recruiting Officer (1706) I. i; 'A mighty large bed bigger by half than the great bed of Ware ; ten thousand people may lie in it together and never feel one another.' 95-6. Don Bride-groome. JDon, the Spanish ' Master ' or ' Mister ', was often used in a depreciatory manner, influenced by the inimical feeling between the nations, which has been influential in making the stereotyped dark stage villain. Dekker, in The Deuills Answer to Pierce Pennylesse, Pr. Wks. i. 90, 93, refers to Don 26o The Silent Woman [act v Lucifer, Don Pluto loi, Don Belzebub. In his Lanthorne and Candle-Light 3. 205 Don Lucifer and others occur. Spanish words, in the last half of the sixteenth century, had crept into English, especially into the vocabulary of war. Wheatley, Every Man In, says that in R. Barret's Theorike and Practike of Modern Warres (1598) a third of the words are Spanish. 97. Hang him, mad oxe. Doubtless one of the inexhaustible number of jokes made at the expense of cheated husbands ; cf. note 3. 6. 108-9. ' Horn mad ' is a commonly occurring vulgarism, and the present line is paralleled in Marston's Dutch Courtezan 3. 3 : ' And you make an ass of me, I'll make an ox of you — do you see ? ' Act V. Scene II. 14-15. they are your mere foiles. The figurative use of this fencing term followed hard upon the introduction of the rapier and fencing into England. N.E. D. gives a reference as early as 1581. Dekker remarks in Guh Horn-Booke : ' Let him be suited if you can, worse by farre then your selfe, he will be a foyle to you.' 24. a Fidelia. Trusty seems to be introduced mio Epicoene for the purpose of furnishing a pun or two upon her suggestive name ; cf. 4. 4. 98, 99. 31. make any credit to her: 'give any credit to her'. W. suggests that it is a Latinism from the \d.\ovs\ fidem/acere. 35. none o' the clearest. W. thinks this a corruption of cleanest, but the correction seems to me unnecessary. The definition of ' freedom from bodily fault ', with especial reference to the skin, is possible and reasonable; cf. Sej. 2. i, p. 41 : Liv. How do I look to-day? EuD. Excellent clear, believe it. This same fucus was well laid on. Among Misc. Pieces, An Interlude, vol. 9. 330, an old nurse asks if her colleague remembers a certain child ' that you gave such a bleach to 'twas never clear since ' .^ 36. pargets. This almost obs. word Jonson used in another form, Cyn. Rev., Palinode, p. 358 : Pha. From pargetting, painting, flicking, glazing, and renewing old rivel'd faces — Cho. Good Mercury defend us. Walter Pater uses the word in Imaginary Portraits, p. 49. sc. ii] Notes 261 38. by candle-light. Mavis had perhaps had the assistance of Marston's Dr. Plaster-face, Marston, Malcontent 2. 4. Works, 2. 233, who was the best 'that ever made an old lady gracious, by torch-light, — by this curde, law ! ' 49. they haunt me like fayries. Belief in fairies was very common in the lower classes and among the rural people. It is unnecessary to call attention to Shakespeare's use of fairy folk and kindred beings in the Mid. Nighfs Dream and the Tempest. Scot, Discouerie of Witchcraft, bk. 3, ch. 4 : ' The fairies do principally inhabit the mountains and cauerns of the earth, whose nature is to make strange apparitions on the earth, in meadows, or on moun- tains, being like men and women, soldiers, kings, and ladies, children, and horsemen, clothed in green, to which purpose they do in the night steal hempen stalks from the fields where they grow, to conuert them into horses as the story goes.' Drake, Sh. and his Times, p. 489, sketches briefly the coming of fairy lore, thus : ' Belief in fairies and demons came to the South of Europe from the East, the Persian Peri and Dives, and the Arabian Genii of two orders, through the medium of the Crusades and the Moors in Spain, but to England from the North, the Goths having a perfectly developed system of fairy mythology in the first or metric Edda of 1007.' Some books upon this subject of fairy life are T. Keightley, Fairy Mytholos^y, 1852 ; E. S. Hartland, The Science of Fairy Tales, 1891 ; W. C. Hazlitt, Fairy Mythology of Shakespeare, 1875. Cf. also Addison, Spectator, nos. 12, no, 117, 419. 51. you must not tell. To confide in any one about a fairy's gift rendered it void, tradition said, and drew down the fairy giver's anger. Children yet believe this in regard to childish wishes made to stars, to a broken wish-bone, &c. Secrecy is always necessary for a charm to work. Field, W. is a Weathercock i. i : Nev. I see you labour with some serious thing. And think (like fairy's treasure) to reveal it, Will cause it vanish. Winters Tale 3. 3. 127: 'This is fairy gold, boy, and 'twill prove so: up with't, keep it close . . . nothing but secrecy.' Jonson, The Satyr, vol. 6. 447, Mab gives the queen a jewel : Utter not, we do implore. Who did give it, nor wherefore. 262 The Silent Woman [act v 67-8. his Knights reformados. Clerimont calls Daw and La-Foole by this uncomplimentary title, because of their disgrace met at Dauphine's hands in Act 4. 5. It is used again, Every Man /« 3. 2. 8i : E. Know. Into the likeness of one of these reformados had he moulded himself so perfectly . . . that hadst thou seen him, thou wouldst have sworn he might have been serjeant-major, if not lieutenant-coronel to the regiment. Act V. Scene III. Act 5. 3 exposes the ridiculously loose state of the English law of divorce in the time of James. Many of the arguments are archaic, but scarcely obsolete. Henry VIII had divorced Catharine of Arragon by sentence of the ecclesiastical court, on the ground of impediment of affinity, she being his sister-in-law, and the marriage was thus made void ab inilio. Anne ofCleves he had divorced after betrothal, on the ground of precontract, ligamen. In 161 3 the Countess of Essex obtained a royal commission from James, authorizing twelve bishops and doctors of ecclesiastical law to hear her complaint for absolute divorce. It was granted (five bishops absenting themselves from the judgment room) on the ground of the twelfth impediment. Ecclesiastical law from earliest times had had jurisdiction over ' tithes, because paid to men of the church ; in causes of matrimony, because marriages were for the most part solemnized in the church ; in causes testamentary, because testa- ments were made in extremis, when churchmen were present.' William the Conqueror established the temporal and spiritual courts in England, and the best authorities grant that ' Large portions (to say the least) of the canon law of Rome were regarded by the courts Christian in this country as absolutely binding statute law' (Mait- land). Everything changed at the Reformation. Henry prohibited the academic study of canon law (Stat. 32 Hen. VIII, c. 38), but it remained the kernel of English ecclesiastical law. Thomas Fuller, Hist, of Univ. of Cambridge (1655), sec. 6 : ' Although the civilians kept canon law in commendam with their own profession, yet both twisted together a.re scarce strong enough to draw unto them a liberal sc. Ill] Notes 263 livelihood.' The ecclesiastical courts had jurisdiction over matters matrimonial until they were abolished in 1857, when they dis- appeared in anything but a blaze of glory. 9. i' the I'enuoy. According to Cotgrave's definition, ' It is the conclusion of a ballad or sonnet in a short stanza by itself, and serving, oftentimes, as a dedication of the whole '. It is a fanciful word for ' conclusion ', as here used. 10. 'twill be full and twanging. The Cent. Did. classes twanging as slang; cf. Massinger, i?(?z?Z(2« ^o: ' Will you not eat your word .'" As Fou Like // 5. 4. 155 : 'I will not eat my word, now thou art mine.' 129. except against 'hem as beaten Knights. The right of debarring witnesses comes from the days when causes were determined by trial of battle, a method of legal procedure dying out in the thirteenth year of Queen Elizabeth, 157 1 a. d. Black- stone, Comm. bk. 3, ch. 22, §§ 330 ff., describes the trial, and that which constituted victory, either death of one of the champions, or if either champion 'proves recreant, that is, yields and pro- nounces the horrible word craven, a word of disgrace and obloquy, rather than of any determinate meaning. But a horrible word it indeed is to the vanquished champion : since as a punishment to him for forfeiting the land of his principal by pronouncing that shameful word, he is condemned, as a recreant, amittere liheram legem, that is, to become infamous, and not to be accounted liber at legalis homo; being supposed by the event to be proved for- ever foresworn, and therefore never to be put upon a jury or admitted as a witness in any cause.' Cf. ibid. 4. 340. Poor Amorous and Jack Daw had been defeated before the ladies, Act 4. 5, and must take their place as recreants. 154. studie Ms affliction. Study has the idea of augment, ' you study his trouble in detail for the purpose of augmenting it '. Cf. the use of the verb in Sad Shepherd i. 2, p. 242 : Aeg. But I will still study some revenge past this. — I pray you give me leave, for I will study. Though all the bells, pipes, tabors, timburines ring, That you can plant about me ; I will study. sc. iiii] Notes 273 168. that you bee neuer troubled. For be in fut. sense cf. Abbott, § 298. 198. away crocodile. Crocodile has long been a figurative word for ' hypocrite ', from the old tradition that crocodiles shed tears over their prey before they devour it. So tears, insincere ones, are suggested always by the word. Doubtless Epicoene at this point did shed tears in simulated grief. Cf. Spenser, Fairie Queene i. 5. 18. 4 : A cruel craftie crocodile, Which in false griefe hyding his harmfuU guile, Doth weepe fuUe sore, and sheddeth tender teares. Volp. 3. 6, p. 245, Corvino denounces Celia: Whore, crocodile, that hast thy tears prepared, Expecting, how thou'lt bid them flow. Fuller, Worthies, Essex : ' The crocodile's tears are never true.' 209. for this composition. Cf. Chaucer, Prologue 847 : And telle he moste his tale, as was resoun, By forward and by composicioun. 227-8. you haue lurch'd your friends . . . of the garland. Cf. Coriol. 2. 2. 105, where Cominius says of the hero : His pupil age Man entered thus, he waxed like a sea. And in the brunt of seventeen battles since He lurched all swords of the garland. 242-3. away you common moths. A figure of which Jonson makes use in Underwoods 41, vol. 8. 368 : Where dost Thou careless lie Buried in ease and sloth ? Knowledge, that sleeps, doth die; And this security It is the common moth. That eats on wits and arts, and so destroys them both. 242-3. their fame suffer ... all ladies honors. Notice that the former of the two nouns is singular (meaning here ' reputation ' in a good sense), and the second is in the plural. Just below, in 1. 2^S,/'ame is pluralized. Jonson did thus with abstract nouns when he chose. Cf. Lyly, Campaspe 1. 1 : 'If hee saue our honours^, it is more than to restore our goods ; and rather do I wish he pre- serue our fame than our lines.' 274 ^^^ Silent Woman [act v, sc. iiii 244. trauaile to make legs and faces. * Go and travel that you may learn to imitate other people's expressions of face and manner of bowing.' G. thinks the idea came to Jonson from Juvenal's alienum sumere vultum, for the purpose of pleasing one's patron. But it seems to me it rather occurred to him in connection with such mannerisms as he satirizes 4. 6. 36, &c. Cf. Cyn. Rev. 3. 2, p. 265, one that ' hath travell'd to make legs, and seen the cringe of several courts and courtiers '. Ibid. 2. i, pp. 245 ff. Amorphus teaches Asotus to make faces, ' First, for your merchant, or city-face . . . then you have your student's or academic face ', &c. Mosca, in Volp. 3. i, p. 226, rails at men who 'make their revenue out of legs and faces ', and this is more possibly a remi- niscence of Juvenal. 256. at least please him. Fleay suggests that Jonson must himself have played this part. Slage, p. 185. THE PRINCIPAL COMEDIANS WERE Nat. Field. This actor and playwright, born in London in the parish of St. Giles Without, Cripplegate, lived 158 7-1 633. His father was a Rev. John Field, and from a bill of complaint discovered by James Greenstreet, it would seem that the boy had entered the company of actors through the influence of Nathaniel Gyies, and without his father's consent. Cf. Athen. 2. 203-4. In 1600 he was one of the chapel children who brought out Cyn. Rev., and in 1 601, the Poet. His first recorded part is the hero in Chapman's Bussy DAmbois, which was printed in 1607, and he heads the list of Queen's Revels Boys in our comedy. Fleay {Dra7n. i. 172) makes him a member of the old company under its new name of the Lady Elizabeth's Servants. Collier, Slage, 1. 415-17, makes Field a member of His Majesty's Players, and he is listed among the actors prefixed to the 1623 Folio of Shakespeare. All the notices of him as an actor are uniformly in his praise. Jonson thinks he merits a place beside the great Richard Burbage in Bar. Fair 5. 3, p. 482 : Cokes. Which is your Burbage, now? Leath. What mean you by that? Cokes. Your best actor, your Field ? Notes 275 The D. N. B. cites another criticism in the Short Discourse of the English Stage, by Richard Flecknoe : ' In this time were poets and actors in their greatest flourish; Jonson and Shakespeare, with Beaumont and Fletcher, their poets, and Field and Burbage their actors.* It is difficult to judge exactly of the extent of Field's work as a playwright. He is the sole author of two comedies, A Woman is a Weathercock, 161 2, and Amends /or Ladies, 16 18. These maybe found in Haz.-Dods. and in the Mermaid Series in the volume Nero and other Plays. Field collaborated with Massinger on the Fatal Doivry, and Fleay, Dram. i. 171 fF., says he later collaborated with Fletcher. There exists a letter from Massinger, Field, and Robert Daborne addressed to Henslowe, asking for money to release them from imprisonment. Cf. Malone's Shakespeare, Boswell, 3. 337- In the Prologue to Bussy D Avibois he is commemorated as the one ' whose action did first give it name ', and Chapman has some verses To his Loved Son, Nat. Field, and his Weathercock Woman, both to be found in Haz.-Dods., vol. 1 1. Jonson, in his Conv., vol. 9. 379 (1619), said 'Nid Field was his schollar, and he had read to him the Satyres of Horace, and some Epigrams of Martiall '. Among the commendatory verses gathered by Gifford for his edition will be found, vol. I, p. cclii, those of Nat. Field To his worthy and beloved friend Master Ben fonson, on his Catiline. The most important biographical references are : Dictionary of National Biography ; Collier's Preface to his plays, Haz.-Dods. vol. 1 1 ; Collier, History of Eng. Dram. Poetry i. 415; Fleay, Dram. i. 171. There is an etching of Nathaniel Field, copied from the portrait in the Dulwich Gallery, in the volume of the Mermaid Series which contains the two plays. Gil. Carie. Gifford calls attention to the fact that he, Attawel, and Pen are recorded among the principal performers in the dramas of Beaumont and Fletcher. Otherwise of him, as of Pen, there is nothing known. Hvg. Attawel. The D. N. B. is authority for the two facts we have of this player, that this reference in Epicoene is the first memorandum of him in his profession, and that there is extant a funeral elegy by William Rowley upon the death of Hugh Atta- well, 'servant of Prince Charles', Sept. 25, 162 1. 276 The Silent Woman loh. Smith. Fate has succeeded in concealing this member of the Revels Boys ' by naming him Smith '. Will. Barksted. Just when he lived, or what he achieved in literature, is not known, but we may judge by the two compositions authoritatively ascribed to him, Mtrrha, the Mother of Adonis; or Lustes Prodegi'es (1607), and Hiren, or the Faire GreeAe {161 1). BuUen, in the Introduction to his edition of Marston, writes, p. xlviii : ' The tragedy of The Insatiate Countess was published in 1 6 13, with Marston's name on the title-page . . . The play was reprinted in 1631, and Marston's name is found on the title-page of most copies of that edition ; but the Duke of Devonshire possesses a copy in which the author's name is given as William Barksteed ... It is probable he is to be identified with the Wm. Barksted, or Backsted, who was one of Prince Henry's players in August 161 1 (Collier's Memoirs of Edward Alleyn, p. 98), and belonged to the company of the Prince Palatine's players in March 16 15-16 (ibid. 126).' In conclusion, Bullen thinks the play was probably left un- finished by Marston, and that Barksted completed it. But, all things considered, his biographer in D. N. B. concludes that he was but ill-educated, and lacked almost every requirement of a literary artist. Fleay gives him brief mention, Dram. i. 29. Will. Pen. Cf. supra, Gil. Carie. Ric. Allin. The name of this actor is all that survives of him, unless he be identical with a boy whose good speaking at the great Entertainment when James I entered London caused Dekker to leave a record of it. Cf. Dram. Wks. i. 280 : ' In the play Genius and Thamesis were the only Speakers : Thamesis being presented by one of the children of her Maiesties Reuels; Genius by M. Allin (seruant to the young Prince), his gratulatory speech (which was deliuered with excellent Action, and a well tun'de audible voyce) being to this effect,' &c. The M. may, of course, stand for Master, as in Epiccene 3. 6. 79. The Kings Entertainment was March 15, 1603, and Allin might have become a member of the company before our play in i62§. Master of Revells. The origin of the office is sketched by Stow: 'At the feast of Christmas in the King's court, wherever he chanced to reside, there was appointed a lord of misrule, or master of merry disports ; the same merry fellow made his appear- ance at the house of every nobleman and person of distinction, and Notes 277 among the rest the lord mayor of London and the sheriffs had severally of them their lord of misrule . . . This pleasant potentate began his rule at All-Hallows eve, and continued the same till the morrow after the feast of the Purification ; in which space there were fine and subtle disguisings, masks, and mummeries.' These early ' lords ' or • masters ' had as their first duty to provide mirth and jollity for holiday occasion. But the office developed into one in which the holder had no longer to provide, but to select and control the entertainment, ' The appointment in 1546 ', says Ward in his Ung. Dram. Lit., ' of Sir Thomas Cawarden as Magister loconwi Revellorum et Mascorum at Court was possibly neither the first of its kind nor one in which the censorial functions were predominant. Nor does the "wise gentleman and learned" George Ferrers, who in 1551 became "master of the pastimes" of King Edward VI, appear to have owed his appointment to his political so much as to his literary and dramaturgical abilities, which, although a Protestant, he was afterwards found ready to devote alike to the services of Queen Mary.' In Jonson's time Edmund Tilney held the office from July 24, 1579, until 1608, when he retired, to be followed by his deputy Sir George Buc, historian and poet, whose first duty seems to have been performed on Oct. 4, 1608, when he licensed Middleton's A Mad World my Masters ; Sir John Astley was granted a reversion of the office Apr. 3, 1612, and Jonson on Oct. 5, 1621. So when Buc retired, in 1621, it went to Astley as holder of the earliest re- version. His patent was made out May 2, 1622. That Jonson was eager to be ' Master of the Revels ' we glean from Satiromastix, p. 231: 'Master Horace, let your witte inhabite in your right places ; if I fall sansomely vpon the Widdow, I haue some cossins German at Court, shall beget you the reuersion of the Master of the King's Reuels, or else be his Lord of Misrule now at Christmas.' But the office never came to him ; Sir John Astley lived two years longer than he, dying Jan. 1639-40, and having as his deputy many years before his death Sir Henry Herbert. Cf. Malone's Shaks., Boswell, 3. 57 note. BIBLIOGRAPHY Abbott, E. A. A Shakesperian Grammar, London, 1891. Adams, W. Davenport. A Dictionary of the Drama. Vol. I. Philadelphia, 1904. Aquinas, Thomas. Summa Theologiae. 12 vols. Rome, 1619. Arber, Edward, ed. A Transcript of the Registers of the Company of Stationers of London: 1554-1640. 5 vols. London, 1875-1894. An English Garner. Birmingham, 1888. English Reprints. Westminster, 1895. 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London Past and Present. 3 vols. London, 1891. Wilson, Arthur. Life and Times of James L London, 1653. Woodbridge, Elizabeth. Studies in Jonson's Comedy. Boston, 1898. T 3 GLOSSARY Reference to the text is by act, scene, and line. Obsolete words are marked t, archaic t, technical or unnaturalized words ||. Afprep., ton : i. 4. 50 ; in the act of: 5. 2. 27. [OE. on, as used still in asleep, afoot.] Cf. Abbott, §§24, 140. Absolute, adj., perfect: 3. 6. 41, 4. I. 131. Abuse, n., tdeceit, imposture: 4. 5- 64. Abuse, v., tto impose upon, cheat, deceive : 3. 3. 45, 4. 7. 29, 5. 4. 153- Acknowledging, ppl. adj., tgrate- ful : 3. 3. 8. Act, v., to gesticulate: 4. i. 43. (Cf. note.) Admirably, adv., t marvel ously, wonderfully : 4. 5. 4. Adulteries, n., tadulterations, corruptions: i. I. 102. Aequiuocate, v. i., to evade by equivocation. Jonson's use of the word is absolute, or intransi- tive, which N.E.D. and Century do not recognize except in the sense of ' to use words of doubt- ful signification ' : 4. 2. 36. AfiFeet, v., tto aim at, aspire to : 2' 5- 55> 75 ; used with to do : 2. 2. 25 ; to be fond of, to like, to love: 5. 2. 6, 18. Affection, n., tdisposition : 2. 5. 16 ; t feeling as opposed to reason, passion : 4. 4. 178 ; //. goodwill, love: 5. i. 49. Afore, adv., % of time previously, before : 2. 4. 32 ; of place in front, in advance : 2. 4. 1 16, 118. Still used in nautical language. Allegation, n. (Law), the asser- tion, declaration, or statement of a party of what he can prove : 4. 7. 15- And, conj., if: 2. 3. i, 2. 4. 9, 3. 2. 80, 87 ; an' : 2. 4. 92, 132 ; even if, although : 4. 4. 12. Angel, n., an English coin at first known as angel-noble, being a new issue of the noble with the device of the archangel Michael standing upon and piercing the dragon. Its value on being issued (1465) by Edward IV was 6^. Zd.; in i Henry VIII, 7 J. ^d. ; 34 Henry VIII, %$. 6d. ; 6 Edward VI, los. It was last coined by Charles 1 : 3. 4. i. Appellation, n. (Law), tthe act of appealing from a lower to a higher court or authority against the decision of the former : 4. 7. IS- Appoint, v., Ito make an appoint- ment for a meeting (with a per- son as direct obj.) : 2. 6. 5. Argument, n., tsubject-matter of a discussion or discourse in speech or writing: i. I. 8. Arras, ti., tapestry hangings, so called because made in the town of Arras, Artois : 4. 5. 34. Article, n. (Law), division of a written or printed document or agreement: i. i. 30, 4. i. 18. tAssassinate, n., assault with intent to murder : 2. 2. 49. Cf. N, E. D. for the use of this Glossary 285 word under I ; the noun some- times meant the person attempt- ing murder. Assure, v., +to secure or make sure the possession or reversion of ; to convey property by deed : 5. 4. 182. At, prep., to: 3. 5. 77,, 74. Cf. Abbott, § 143. Attachment, n. (Law), taking into the custody of the law the person or property of one already before the court, or of one whom it is sought to bring before it ; a writ for the accomplishment of this purpose : 4. 7. 16. Attone, V. +(tr. with a personal object), to set at one, to bring into accord : 4. 5. 163. Audacious, adj., confident, in- trepid : 2. 5. 32. tAuthenticall, adj., real, actual, genuine : 3. 2. 28. Author, «., t instigator, autho- rizer, prompter: i. 2. 9, 11. Aziire, n. (Her.), the blue color in coats of arms, represented in engraving by horizontal lines : I. 4. 41. Bait, n., refreshment, slight re- past : I. 3. 43. Century gives this word as still colloquial in provincial England. Balle, n., a spherical piece of soap : 3. 5. 75. Band, n., the neck-band or collar of a shirt, originally used to make it fit closely, later ex- panded for ornamentation. In l6th century synonymous with ruif, in the 1 7th with the drooping collar which gradually took the place of its stiffly - starched, 'stand-up' predecessor : 3.1.42. Banquet, n., +a slight repast between meals ; sweetmeats, dessert : i. 3. 41. Barbary, n., fa Barbary horse, a barb: 4. i. 102. Bare, adj. or adv., Jwith head uncovered : 3. 3. 75. Bason, n., basin : 3. 5. 86. Bate, v., to make a reduction in, to lessen : 3. 4. 45. \ Battell, «., a fight between two persons : 4. 2. 108. Baud, n., pander : 2. 2. 131. Both masc. and fem. before 17th century ; after that time always fem. Of uncertain origin j earliest example is in Piers Plowman, 1362, where one MS. reads Bawdstrot. Bayes, n., the crown of laurel or bay worn as a reward by con- queror or poet, used figuratively for fame : PROL. 3. Beare-w^ard, n., the keeper of a bear, who leads it about to ex- hibit its tricks: i. i. 176, 4. 2. log. Because, conj., tin order that : 4. 5. 274. fBedpheere, n., a bedfellow : 2. 5. 49. [OE. gefera, com- panion, fellow.] Beg, V. t(tr. with impersonal direct obj.), to beg a person meant to petition the Court of Wards (established by Henry VIII and suppressed under Charles II) for the cus- tody of a minor, heiress, or idiot, as feudal superior or as having interest in the matter : 2. 2. 45, 4. 7. 5. N. E. D. does not recognize the use of the impers. dir. obj., but it seems to have been common. Cf. note, 4. 7. 5- Bell-man, «., a man employed to 286 The Silent Woman go about the streets at night as a watchman : I. I. 1 66. Benefit, n., Jkindness, favor : 2. 4. 20, 22, 3. 7. 30. JBeshrew, v., used only as here in the imperative with the force of an imprecation, ' Evil befall ' : 2. 6. 29. Biggen, n., a child's cap. Here figuratively as the sign of infancy : 3. 6. 82. Blanket, v., to toss in a blanket as a rough punishment: 5. 4. 13- Bodies, n., a variant of bodice from the original plur. a pair of bodies, meaning ' a pair of stays '. Formerly always treated as a plur. even with spelling bodice, and originally referring to the part of a dress covering the body as distinct from the arms: 2. 5. ']']. Boy, «., page: i. l. i. Cf. note. Brake, n. Cf. note, 4, 6. 27. Brasier, «., one who works in brass : i. i. 158. Braue, adj., Jsplendid, capital: 2. 2. 24, 4. 5. 231, 5. 4. 59. Brauely, adv., ^worthily, well : 4. I. 12, 5.3. 12. Brauery, «., tgallant, beau : i. i. 78, I. 3. 30, 2. 3. 55, 2.4. 120; ostentation, finery : 4. 6. 6. Brauo, n., a bravado, a swagger- ing fellow: 3. 6. 112. [Ital. bravo. Earliest English usage, 1597. n.e.d:\ Bricke-bat, n., a fragment of brick: 2. i. 12. Bride-ale, n., a wedding-feast : 2. 6. 32 ; brideale : 3. 6. 73 ; bridall : 4. 5. 48. [OE. bryd- ealo, literally ' wedding-ale '. The analytical form with the stress on the ale never died out. Very commoner. 1600; still used as an historical term.] Brief, adj., ^to be brief means to be expeditious or hasty : 5. 4. 29. Briefly, adv., tsoon, at once : 3. 2. 18, 4. 5. 237, 5. 3. 76. tBrown baker, n., a baker of brown bread : 2. 5. 120. Buckle, v., tto fasten up in any way : i. i. 146. By, adv., near, ready — in com- mand stand by: 2. i. 29, 4. 5. 302. By and by, adv., +at once, im- mediately: 4. 5. 345. tCalliuer, «., a light kind of musket: 4. 5. no. Cf. note. Carpet, n., +a thick fabric worked into covers for tables, beds, &c. : 4- 5- 253- Carriage, n., Jmanner of con- ducting oneself socially : 2. 5. 51, 5-3-5I- Cast, n., the number of hawks cast off at a time ; a couple : 4. 4. 192. Cast, v., +to anticipate, forecast : 4.5.214. Casuist, n., a theologian or other person who studies and resolves cases of conscience, or questions of duty and conduct : 4. 5. 4. Catch, n., song, originally a short composition for three or more voices, which sing to the same melody, the second singer be- ginning the first line as the first goes on to the second, and so with each successive singer : 3. 4. 10. Censure, v. i., tto judge ; to give an opinion : Dedic. 16. Certificate, n. (Law), a writing made in any court, and properly authenticated, to give notice Glossary 287 that a fact has or has not taken place : 4. 7. 15. Chance-medlee, n. (Law), acci- dent or casualty not purely acci- dental, but of a mixed charac- ter, chiefly in manslaughter by chance-medley ^ for which later writers use chatice-medley itself. — Cowel: 3. 5. 117. Charge, «., theed, attention : 2. 2. 98 ; pi. expense ; 5. 4. 209. tChina house, «., a place where Chinese merchandise was ex- hibited: I. 3. 38, 4. 3. 24. Cf. note, I. 3. 38. tChina-woman, «., the owner or keeper of a china-house : 1.4.26. tChristen-name, «., Christian name, the name given at christening: I. 3. 45. Circumstance, «., J ceremony, ado : 2. 5. 55 ; pi. details : 5. 3. 44. Citation, n. (Law), the production of or reference to the text of acts of legislatures, treatises, &c., in order to support pro- positions advanced: 4. 7. 15. +Citie-\vire, «., a woman of fashion : PROL. 23. Citterne, n., Jcithern, an instru- ment of the guitar kind, strung with wire, played with a plec- trum, very popular in l6th and 17th centuries ; modern zither : 3- 5- 62. llClogdogdo, «. Cf. note, 4. 2. 75. tCoacted, ppl. adj., enforced, compulsory: 3. 4. 54. Coate, n. (Her.), coat-of-arms, escutcheon : 1.4. 40. Collier, «., a man engaged in the coal trade ; a term of reproach : 3.5- 116. Comely, a^'., appropriate, proper : 2. I. 21. Comment, n. 'Sometimes it is taken to be a lie or feigned tale' (Bullokar, 1616; also in Cockeram, 1623). [L. cojn- inentum\ : 5. 4. 55. Comming, ppl. adj., tinclined to meet advances, complaisant : 5. I. 78. Commoditie, n., ta quantity of goods sold on credit to a person wishing to borrow money from a usurer, and resold immediately for some cash at a lower price : 1. 4. 69, 2. 5. 118. Companion, n., tfellow, used as a term of contempt: 2. 2. 19, 5. 4. 5, 154. Compendious, adj., texpeditious, direct: 2. i. i. Composition, n., t constitution of body: 2. 5. 17 ; ta mutual agree- ment or arrangement between two parties, a contract : 5. 4. 209. Conceipt, «., tpersonal or private opinion : 4. 5. 264. Conceited, ppl. adj., t clever, witty: 2. 5. 57. Conceiue, v., to grasp with the mind (of a thing;]:) : 2. 5. 5, 9, 1 2, passim. Condition, n., tcharacter, dis- position: 2. 5. 15; provision: 2. 4- 45, 137. Confound, v., to discomfit in argument, to silence : i. 2. 60. ■ Conscience, n., consciousness, internal conviction : 2. 5. 58. Consent, n., +agreement, accord : 4. 6. 103. Contayne, v., tto keep under control (of the mind) : 5. 3. 49, Contempt, n., action of con- demning; tin//.: 4. 5. 68. Content, ppl. adj., agreed, used in exclamations: 2.4.;i58,5.4. 16. 288 The Silent Woman Content, v., tto please, delight : PROL. 2. Conuayance, n. (Law), the trans- fer of the title of property from one person to another : 2. 2. 142. Conuiction, n. (Law), that legal proceeding of record which ascertains the guilt of the party and upon which the sentence or judgment is founded : 4. 7. 16. Correspondence, «., t relation between persons or communi- ties ; usually qualified as good, friendly, &c. : 3. 3. 87. Cosen, «., a relative (cousin) : 2. 2. 103 ; cosin, 3. 2. \Z,passi7n. Cosen, v., to cheat : 2. 2. 43, 86, passi77i. t Costard-monger, «., a street vender of fruits: i. I. 155 (costard, apple). Countenance, «., bearing, de- meanor : 4. 6. 76. Course, «., tcharge, onset ; bout, encounter: 4, 2. 9, 145. llCourtlesse, adj., wanting in courtliness : 2. 5. 30. N. E. D. and Cefiiury have no record of the word elsewhere used. Courtling, n., a gentleman of the court: 4. I. 131. An unusual word to which Jonson always attaches a disparaging meaning. Cf. Cyft. Rev. 5. 2, p. 316, Epi- grams 52, 72. Crowne, 7t., an English coin, gold or silver, worth five shillings, first coined by Henry VIII in gold, in imitation of the French ecu au so lei I of Louis XII or Francis I. Since Edward VI it has existed in silver : 1.4. 57. Cumber, n., i trouble, distress: 5. 4- 189. Cunning woman, n., tfortune- teller, conjurer: 2. 2. 127. Curious, n., tcareful, studious : 4. I. 38. [L. curiostis.] Damasque, n., a rich cloth, manu- factured originally at Damascus, very fashionable in James I's time : 3. 2. 68. Decline, v., tto avert : 2. 2. loi. Delicate, adj., fdainty, fine (of horses) : i, 4. 5, 2. 4. 103, 3. i. 24. Demand, v., tto ask (dir. obj. the person, ind. obj. the thing) : 3. 2. 22. Desperate, adj., tirretrievable, irreclaimable : 2. 5. 50. Desperately, adv., excessively : 4. 2. 46. Deuis'd, /^/. adj'., invented, con- trived: 2. 2. 148. Diet, n., tboard : 2. 5. I08. Discontentment, n., tdisplea- sure, vexation: 4.4. 181. Discouer, v., J to reveal, make known: 1.1.110,121,5.4.250; to find out : 3. 3. 7. Discourse, n., tconversational power: 5. i. 40; conversation: 2. I. 4, 2. 4. 86, passitn. Discourse, v., +to tell, narrate (with direct obj. of the thing) : 4. 5. 246. Disease, n., fault : i. i. 57 ; eccentricity : I. I. 149, 3. 6. 66. Disfurnish, v., to deprive of: 4. 6. 48. Dispence, v. i., to excuse, pardon (used with the prep, wil/i) : I. 4. 12. Doctrine, n., tdiscipline ; lesson, precept: 2. i. 28. tDor, n., scoff, mockery ; used as a light imprecation : 2. 3. 45 ; Glossary 289 to give the dor to, to make game of: 3. 3. 26. Dote, n., natural gift or endow- ment (usually^/.) : 2, 3. 100. Doublet, n., fa close-fitting body- garment, with or without sleeveS) worn by men from the 14th to the 1 8th centuries ; rarely applied to women's garments of the same sort : of tnen's, 2. 2. 68, 3. I. 53 ; of women's, 3. 2. 76. Dressing, n., artificial aid to good looks ; cosmetics, &c.: i. 1.105, 4. I. Z7, 104. Drone, v., tto smoke: 4. i. 66. Cf. note. ' Eare-wig, n., an insect, Forficula auriadaria, so called from the notion that it penetrates into the head through the ear : 5. 4. 7. Eater, n., t a menial, servant : 3- 5- 33- Election, n,, discrimination : 4. 7. 47. 1 1 Elephantiasis, n., a name given to various kinds of cutaneous diseases which cause the skin to resemble an elephant's hide : 5- 3- 184. Enable, v., tto empower, qualify : 5. 4. 218. tEngle, n., catamite : i. i. 25. Ensigne, n., X token, sign : 3. 6. 72. Entire, adj., tdevoted, intimate : 2. 4. 43. Entreat, v., to invite: i. i. 176, 1. 4. 8, 3. 3. 1 14, 4. 5. A,T,passitn ; intreat : 2. 5. 2, 4. 4. 76. This word Jonson uses constantly in the exaggerated speech of the court. Entreaty, n., treception, enter- tainment : PROL. II. Epithalamium, n., a nuptial song or poem in praise of the bride and bridegroom, and praying for their prosperity : 3.6.91,93. Erection, n., texaltation : 4. 6. 79. Errandst,«<^'.(tvariantofarra«/), thorough-going, unmitigated : 4. 5.69. Estate, n., ta condition of exist- ence, physical or social: 3. 4. 47, 4. 5. 2%, passim. tEstrich, n., ostrich : 4. I. 50. Example, «., precedent : Dedic. 6. Except against, to take exception to : 5. 4. 129. Excursion, n., digression, devia- tion {upon words) : 5. 3. 75. Execution, n. (Law), in civil actions, is the mode of obtaining the debt or damages or other thing recovered by the judg- ment ; it is either for the plaintiff or defendant. For the plaintiff upon a judgment in debt, the execution is for the debt and damages, for the goods, or their value, and costs: 2. 5. 106, 4. 5- 18. Exercise, n., a recreative employ- ment, a pastime: 4. 4, 103. Exhibition, tz., maintenance, support : 3. I. 59 (cf. late L. ex- hibitio et tegumentum, food and raiment). Expect, V. i., tto wait : 5. 3. 145 ; V. /., tto wait for, await : 5. 3. 37. Expi'esse, v. i. for reflex, use, to put one's thoughts into words : 3. 2. 26. Extemporall, adj., textempo- raneous : 2. 3, 10. tFacinorous, adj., infamous, vile : 2. 2, 54. This very common word in 17th-century usage Cooper defines as 'full of 290 The Silent Woman naughtie actes ; wicked ; un- gracious '. [L.facinorosus,'\ Fain, v., •\fortn of feign : AN- OTHER 10, 2. 4. II ; faign: 2. 2. 102; faine: i. i. 21, 3. 2. "J"], passim. Fame, «., reputation, good or bad : Dedic. 14, 4. 6. 32, 5. 4. 242, 248 ; report: 5. 2. 61. Family, n., tthe household, ser- vants of the house : 4. i. li. Far fet, adj., far-fetched : PROL. 21. Fauoiir, n., tleave, permission : 2. 4. 88, 3. 2. 87, 5. 3. 87. Festiuall, adj., tglad, merry : 2. 4. 119. Fift, adj., fifth: 5. 3. 136. The normal form fift still survives in dialects ; the standard form, which first appeared in the 14th century, is due to analogy ^\\h fourth. [O^.fifta.l Flock-bed, n., a bed filled with flocks: 2. I. II. [OY.fioc, lock of wool.] For you, prep, phr., with you, ready to act with you : I. 3. 12, 2. 6. 21. Cf. Abbott, § 155. Foresaid, adj., aforesaid : 4.2.76. Forsooth, adv., tin truth, truly : 4. 4. 122. Fortune, n., pure chance : 2. 4. 73> 74, 3- 4- 3- [h.fortuna, re- lated to forti-,fors, chance, and ferre, to bear. A^. E. Z?.] Foule, «(/;■., ugly : i . i . 1 1 5 , 2. 2. 69. Free, v., tto absolve, to acquit: Dedic. 14. Frequent, adj., tabundant : 4. i. 59- Fright, v., to frighten : 2. 5. 98, III, 4. 5. 220 MN., 4. 7. 13. "Fvova., prep., apart from: i. I. 7y. Cf. Abbott, § 158. !|Fucus, 7t., paint or cosmetic for beautifying the skin : 2. 2. 140. [L./z^iTz^j, rock-lichen, red dye, rouge ...N.E. E>.] tFurder, adv., further : 4. 5. 40. + Galley-foist, n., a state barge, esp. as here, the one used upon the Lord Mayor's Day, when he was sworn into his office at Westminster. * A foist, a light galley that hath about 16 or 18 oares on a side, and two rowers to an oare.' — Cotgrave : 4. 2. 127. Gamester, n., gambler ; merry, frolicsome person : 1.4.23,3.1. 37- Genius, n., a good spirit presiding over a man's destiny : 2. 4. 76. Gentlenesses, n. pi., elegancies : 4. I. 52. This seems a unique instance of the word. Gird, n., J a gibe, taunt : 2. 5. 48. tGods so, interj., variant of Gadso, after oaths beginning with God's. Gadso is a variation of Catso through false connec- tion with other oaths beginning with God. Gad is minced pro- nunciation for God'. 2. 4. loi, 4. 2. 27. Godwit, n., a marsh bird, genus Limosa, formerly of great repute for the table. In i6th and 17th centuries used to render L. Attager, Spanish Francoli7i : I. 4. 46. Goe away, tto die : 4. I. 20. Grace, n., fto do grace, to reflect credit : 3. 6. 26 ; to do a favor : 4- 3- 31- Graft, V. i., tto give horns to, to cuckold : 3. 6. 108. Cf. note under hor7ies, 3. 6. 109. tGroates- worth, n., as much as is bought or sold for a groat; Glossary 291 a small amount. The English groat was coined in 135 1-2, valued at fourpence. In 1662 it was withdrawn from circula- tion, and not afterwards coined under that name : 4. 4. 107, &c. Groome, n., ta man-servant : 2. 2. 15,108,3.6.107,4.3.23,5.4.11. Guift, n. (tform oi gift) : 3. 6. 87. Guilder, n. (tform oi gilder), one who practises gilding as an art or trade : i. i. 120. Gules, n., gullet : 4. 5. 326 ; (Her.) red, the heraldic color represented in engraving by vertical lines: 1. 4.41. [h.gula.\ Ha', V. (have), J to take, convey : 2. 2. 151 ; (as auxiliary verb) 4. 5. 234. Habit, n., J dress: 4. i. 119. Halberd, n., a weapon borne, up to the close of the i8th century, by all sergeants of posts, artillery, and marines, and by companies of halberdiers in various regiments. It was a strong wooden shaft six feet in length, surmounted by an instrument much resembling a bill-hook, for cutting and thrust- ing, with a cross-piece of steel less sharp for the purpose of pushing ; one end of the cross- piece was turned down as a hook, used in tearing down works : 4. 5. 109. Halfe-erovvne, n., a silver coin of Great Britain, of the value of two shillings and sixpence : 3. 1.36. tHappely, adv., Jhaply, by hap or chance: 2. 5. 22. Harken, v., tto search by in- quiry (used with the preps, otit or after): 1.1.34,1.2.24,4.1.133. tHart, inter j., Heart ! an oath equivalent to God's heart! It is found also as Ods heart, 'j heart/ : i. 3. 50. Hau'-boye, n. (haut-boy), a wooden double-reed wind in- strument of high pitch, having a compass of about two and a half octaves forming a treble to the bassoon ; modern oboe ; here used for the player: i. i. 163. Heicfar, n. (t variant of heifer), wife : 2. 5. 68. [OE. heahfore, heahfru, -fre, of obscure etymo- logy.— iV. E. D.] Cf. note. 'Hem., pro. pi. them: 4. 5. 241, 244, 246, passim. Cf. Cent. Diet, under He, I, D, c : Obj. (dat.) hem\ emf 'em. Common in early Mod. E., in which it came to be regarded as a contr. of the equiv. them, and was therefore in the seventeenth century often printed 'hem, 'em. [OE. him, heom ; ME. hem, ham, heom, &c.] Herald, n., trumpeter, an- nouncer of official news : 3. 7. 42. Hermaphroditieall, adj., of both sexes ; i. I. 81. Hilts, n. pi. used for sing, hilt : 4. 5. 310. Hobby-horse, «.,ta foolish fellow, a buffoon : 4. 3. 55. Hold, ^'., tto wager, bet : 1.3.50; J to restrain oneself, forbear: 4. 2. 97. Honest, '\v., to confer honor upon, to honor : i. 4. 2. tHorse-meat, n., food for horses : 3. I. 40. Humour, n., caprice, 3. I. 12 ; eccentricity : 4. 4. 169 ; dis- position : 5. I. 78. 292 The Silent Woman Hunting-match, n., fa hunt taken part in by a number of persons : i. i. 34. I, interj. (tform of aye)^ yes : i. I. 47, I. 2. 18, I. 2. 75, I. 3. 28, passim. Idly, a«?y., tdeliriously, 4. 4. 55. lerkin, n., a garment for the upper part of the body worn by men in the i6th and 17th cen- turies, sometimes synonymous with doublet : I. 4. 60. Impaire, n., impairement: 2. 5. 50. Impertinencie, «., irrelevancy ; impertinence : 4. 4. 35, 5. 3. 58, 85. Impulsion, «., incitement : 2. i. 29. Incommoditie, n., tinjury, dam- age : 2. 4. 14. tingine, n., native talent ; artful contrivance : 4. 6. 47. Obs. since the middle of the 17th century. [Lat. iftgenm?nl\ Innocent, tan idiot: i. 2. 54, 3- 4- 39- Instruct, v., tto appoint ; to guide : 4. 4. i. Instrument, n., (Law), a writing which gives formal expression to a legal act, or agreement, as bonds and wills: 3. I. 32. Insult, V. i., +to vaunt, to triumph; 3. 7. 16. Intelligence, «., tidings (a state term used in affectation) : 2. 5. 72, 3. 3. 86. tintergatorie, «., tform of inter- rogatory: 4. 7. 16; pi. (Law), material and pertinent ques- tions in writing, to necessary points exhibited for the examina- tion of witnesses or persons who are to give testimony in the case. Intestate, n. (Law), without a will : 4. 4. 53. It, pro., he, she : 2. 6. 6, 4. 5. 280 ; poss. pron., his : 2. 5. 107, 109, III, 113, 116, 117. lumpe, V, i., tto agree : 2. 5. 42. lust, adj., exact : 2. 5. 25. Cf. Abbott, § 14. Kastril, n., a species of small hawk, Falco tinnunculus, or Tinminculiis alaudarius, re- markable for its habit of sus- taining itself in the same place in the air with its head to the wind ; applied to persons with contemptuous force : 4. 4. 192. Knaue, n., jocularly used with- out unpleasant connotation as fellow, rogue: 2. 5. 19; tser- vant : 2. 2. II, 3. 4. 51. Forthe history of this word, and its obsolete uses, cf. W. and their Ways, p. 286. Lace-woman, «., a woman who works or deals in lace : 2. 5. 71. tLarum, n., alarm : 4. 2. 101. Lasting, n., endurance : 2. 5. 45. Latine, v., to interlard with Latin : 2. 6. 26, 53. Leash, «., a brace and a half, or set of three, originally used in sporting language: 3. 2. 78. Leg, in phrase io make a leg, to bow : 2. I. MN., 5. 4. 244. Lie (lye), v. i., tto lodge, to dwell: 1.2. 57, 59,4. 2. 137, 5. I.7S- fLinnener, n., a linen draper ; shirt-maker ; dealer in hnen goods : 2. 5. 70, 4. I. 105. Lock, n., a lovelock : 3. 5. 70, 4. 6.39. Looke, V. i., to stare ; to glare : 3. 4. 41, 4. 3. 3. Glossary 293 Loose, v., to lose, to waste : i. I. 67, I. 2. 4. Lotium, n., lotion: 3. 5. 88. Century does not recognize the form. Lurch, v., J to swindle, cheat (with a dir. obj. of the person) : 5. 4. 227. M., abbreviation for Master : 3. 6.79. Madrigall, n., a mediaeval poem or song, amorous, pastoral, or descriptive : 2. 3. 23, 138, 2. 4. 94, 4. 5. 123. Make, 7/., +to do ; to be occupied or busied with : 4. 3. 5, 4. 7. I ; to make possible the fact that : Dedic. 10. Managing, n., management, di- rection : 4. 5. 84. Mandrake, «., mandragora, a poisonous plant, which acts as emetic, purgative, and narcotic : 4. 2, 91. [OE. draca from L. draco?^ Cf. note. Mankind, adj., mannish : 5. 4. 22. tMannage, n., management : 3. 4.2. Mannikin, n., a little man, a pigmy : I. 3. 26. +Mar'l, n. (marvel), a wonder : 3- I- 43- Marshall, v., to usher: i. 3. 53. tMary, interj., the name of the Virgin Mary, involved in oaths ; marry; indeed: i. i. 152, passim. Master, «., a title of address now changed to Mister: i. i. 178, 1.2. 5, passim ; abbrev. to M. : 3. 6. 79; to Mr.: 3. 2. 21. Matter, n., material (used of persons) : 4. i. 59 ; question under discussion : 5. 3. 17, 32, 5. 4. 245. Measure, «., moderation : 4. i. 51. Meat, n., tfood : PROL. 17, 27, 1. 3. 56, 2. 6. 35, 3. 3. 64, 81. Melaneholique, adj., J gloomy, melancholy : 2. 4. 139, 148. Melancholy, n., melancholia, in- sanity : 4. 4. 58. Mercer, n., a dealer in cloths, esp. silks : 2. 2, 112. Minion, n., ta favorite, a darling : 3. 5-31. Minister, n., agent, servant: 4. 4.7. Moneth, n. (tform of month) : 2, 2. 138, 2. 4. 40. More, adj., fgreater (in sense of size or importance) : i. 2. 20, 3- 7. 19- Motion, n., fa puppet ; a puppet show: 3. 4. 38; tendency of desire or passion : 2. 5. 28 ; a proposal : 4. 5. 236. Mouthe, n., a servant : 3. 5. 33. A sense not recognized by the dictionaries. Mulct, v., tto punish : 3. 4. 17. Muse, V. i., tto wonder, to be astonished : 2. 3. 100, 3. 4. 2. Mushrome, n. (mushroom), an upstart : 2. 4. 153. Mutine, v. i., to mutiny : i. 3. 20. Neat, adj., tspruce, over-nice : I. I. 92. Neatnesse, tt., over-niceness, finicalness : 4. 6. 30. Neere, adv., comp. of near: 4. i. 68. Neesing, «,, tsneezing [OE. niesen\ : 4. i. 9. Nest, n., a series or set of articles, generally of diminishing size : 4. I. 21. Nicke, in phrase to set i' the nicke, to bet at the right moment (in a card game) : 4. 4. 166. 294 The Silent Woman Note, n., sign, symbol : 4. 4. 38. Noyse, n., ta company of mu- sicians, a band : 3. 3. 84, 3. 7. 2. Wtunber, «., measure, rhythm : 4.1.51. Number, v., to summon : Dedic. II. Obnoxicus, adj.^ liable, subject : 2. 2. 66 ; offensive : 3. 2. 3. Obstancy, «.,tsubstance, essence : 5. 3. 106. Of, adv., toff: 4. 5. 144; prep., concerning: 3.6. 16. Cf. Abbott, § 174. Oflfer, V. i. (in the phrase to offer at), to essay, to attempt : 4. i. 45- On, prep., of: 4. I. 14. Cf. Abbott, § 181. Once, adv., tat once: 4. 5. 121 ; once for all : 4. 5. 36. Open, adj., free-spoken: i. 3. i ; frank, ingenious : 5. i. 79, 80. Open, v., to expound, interpret : 5.3.86- Or, n. (Her.), the metal gold, often represented by a yellow color, and in engraving con- ventionally by dots upon a white ground : i. 4. 41. [L. aurum, OF. or, ME. or.] Or so. Cf. so. Ordinance, n., t cannon, ord- nance: I. 2. 16. Other, ad7'., Jotherwise: I. 3. 5. Cf. Abbott, § 12. Other, pro. sing, for pi. others : I. I. 43, 2. 3. 90. Pageant, n., a play or spectacle performed on a movable float or car : 3. 2. 60. Parget, v. i., tto paint; daub with paint : 5. 2. 36. Part, «., tact; action: 2. 4. 49, 71; endowment, quality: 2. 5. 28. Partake, v., to have a share in, to share (used tr.) : i. 3. 22, 4. 4. 5. Party, n., particular person (now only vulgar) : 2. 4. 61, 2. 6. 14. Peitronell, n., a hand-firearm shorter than the harquebus, but longer than the pistol, intro- duced in the l6th century. It was fired by a match-lock, wheel-lock, or other appliance ; was fired resting against the breast, hence its name. The soldier protected himself from the recoil with a pad : 4. 5. no. Perfumer, n., one whose trade was making and selling per- fumes and cosmetics : 2. 2. no. Perruke, n., an artificial wig : 1. I. 16, 119, 132, 4. 2. 89. tPerseuer, ij. i. (tform of perse- vere) : 4. I. ']']. Perswade, ■y.z.,to use persuasion : 2. 2. 60; V. t., 5. 4. 6. Pest'ling, ppl. adj., pounding, pulverizing : 3. 3. 103. This word is apparently coined by Jonson, as no other example exists. Petarde, n., an engine of war used to blow in a door, gate, &c., consisting of a half-cone of thick iron filled with powder and ball, fastened to a plank ; the latter provided with hooks to be attached to the door or gate. Use of bombs made the petard obsolete: 4. 5. 219, 222. Pewterer, n., a worker in pewter : I. I. 160. Phant'sie, n., fantasy, caprice, whim : i. 2. 52. Physicke (Physique), «. (t forms Glossary 295 of^^K-y^V), medicine, drug: 2.2. 157, 5. 2. 62. Pick- tooth, «., ta tooth-pick : 2. 4. 143. Pike, n., a weapon made of a single spike, flat as the lance was, used previous to the bayonet by the infantry. In length it was twelve to fourteen feet. Under George III it be- came extinct : 4. 5. 109. Pipkin, n., a small earthen pot with or without a cover, and with a horizontal handle: 2. 5. 118. tPlayse mouth, n. (tform of plaice-rciowth), having a small wry mouth like a plaice, or flat- fish : 3. 4. 41. Pleasant, adj., witty, facetious : 5. I. 26. Poast, V. i. (tform of post), to travel rapidly : 2. 4. 104. Point, n., a lace with tags at the end, about six or eight inches long, made of silk, leather, or of three differently colored threads of yarn twisted together and having their ends wrapped with wire. They were used to fasten clothes together until the 17th century, when pins were introduced. Sometimes used as small stakes at gambling : 3- I. 54- Politie, n., tpolicy : 3. i. 20. Porcpisee, n. (tform oi porpoise) , a North Atlantic cetacean of the family Delphinidae : 4. 4. 144. \V.. porcus, hog; piscis, fish.] Post, n., a messenger: 2. 4. 11. Post-horse, n., a horse kept or hired for forwarding post-riders or travelers with speed: i. i. 27. Poulder, n. (t form of powder) : 4. I. 106, 4. 5. zid,, passim. Poxe, n., a disease characterized by eruptive pocks or pustules upon the body; an EngHsh name for the Gallicus 7norbus, which is the significance here. In the 1 6th and 17th centuries it -usually means small pox : 3. 5. 68. (The spelling is ir- regular for pocks, pi. oipock.) Poxe, interj., an imprecation : 1. I. 86, 4. 2. 79, passiin. Precise, adj., tthe quality of being a Precisian, a Puritan : 2. 2. 80. Preferre, v., tto recommend : 2. 5. II. Presently, adv., t instantly, im- mediately: 2. I. 18, 2. 4. 62, 2. 5. ^'^, passim, Pretious,rt^'., (tform oi precious): 4. I. 115. \L. pretiosus^ Prime-men, n., principal men : 5- I- 34. Primero, n. Cf. note : 4. 4. 167. Prineipall, n., chief, leader : 2. 5. 69 ; original : 4. 5. 102. Prize, n., a contest: i. i. 181. Proctoi', n., an officer of the admiralty and ecclesiastical courts, whose duties and busi- , ness correspond exactly to those of an attorney at law or solicitor in chancery. — Black, Diet, of Law : 4. 7. 17, passim. Profess, v., to pretend, to assume: 2. 4. 42. Progresse, n., a journey or circuit of state: 2. 2. 117. Propertie, n., a tool : 3. 3. 24. Protested, ppl. adj., t publicly avowed: 4. 5. 71. Pure, adj., tfine ; clean : 4. 6. 29. Purely, adv., greatly, remark- ably : 2. 6. 18. 296 The Silent Woman Purse-net, «., a net the mouth of which may be drawn close with cords : 3. 3. 94. Put i' the head, phr., to be angry: 3.3.4. No dictionary recognition of the phrase. Put to, v., to apply (to the test) : 2. 3, 10; (with a pers. obj. of the verb and of the prep.) to consign to : 4. 4. loi ; (with a pers. obj. of the verb and an impers. obj. of the prep.) to try, to test: 2. 5. 65. Put vpon, v., to palm off on : 2. 4. 42, 3. 6. 43 ; to set on : 4. 2. 149. Quarter-feast, 7t., a feast cele- brating Quarter-day, which was one of the four days fixed by custom as marking off the quarter of the year on which tenancy of houses usually begins and ends, and the payment of rent and other quarterly charges falls due ; in England and Ire- land these are Lady Day, Mar. 25 ; Midsummer Day, June 24 ; Michaelmas, Sept. 29 ; Christmas, Dec. 25 : 2. 4. no. Quit, v., +to acquit: i. i. 161; to requite : 3. 3. 59 ; +to be free, rid of: 5. 4. 30, 188. Bankness, «., textravagance : 4. 5- 346. Rarely, adv., excellently, finely : 4. 4. 64, 4. 5. 233. Very common in 17th century. Recouer, v., to get for, return to : 4. 7- 36. Reference, n. (Law), in contracts, an agreement to submit to certain arbitrators matters in dispute between two or more parties for decision and agree- ment: 4. 7. 16. tReformado, «., a military officer whom disgrace had deprived of command, but retained his rank and perhaps his pay : 5. 2. 68. Religion, n., t conscientious scruple : 3. 5. 47. Relique, «. (+form of relic) : 5. 4. 74. Resolue, v., to express by resolu- tion or vote : 4. 5. 140 ; tto free from doubt, to inform : 3. 2. 25, 4. 7. 19; to prepare: 5. 4. 100. Resolution, n., tdecision, judg- ment : 5.3.37, 5- 4- 147- tResty, adj. (a reduced form of restive), stubborn, obstinate : I. I. 175- Reuell, 71., a kind of dance or choric performance often given in connection with a masque or pageant : 3. 5. 50. [L. rebellare, same word as Mod. E. rebel, which is the learned as revel is the popular word through the Fr.] Reuersion, n. (Law), the residue of an estate left in the grantor, to commence in possession after the determination of some par- ticular estate granted out by him ; the return of land to the grantor and his heirs after the grant is over ; sometimes the promise of an ofifice to an aspirant after the resignation or death of the present in- cumbent : 2. 2. 45. Ring, n., a set of bells tuned to each other: 2. i. 8. Though Jonson seems to mean simply a bell, such as is common on doors. Rooke, «., fa simpleton, gull : i. 4. 78, 3. 3. 2. Rose, n., a ribbon gathered into Glossary 297 the form of this flower, worn on hat, gown, or shoes : 2. 2. 68, 70, 2. 5. 79. Ruffe, «., a projecting band or frill, plaited or bristling, worn about the neck : 2. 5. 79, 3. 2. 22, 72. Hushe, n., a plant of the order Juncaceae, formerly used for strewing floors by way of cover- ing, in houses, the stage of the theatre, &c. : i. i. 22, 65. Sadnesse, n., t gravity, earnest : 4- 3- 13- Sargeant, «., +a bailiff: 4. 5. 191. 'Saue, interj. (abbreviation for the greeting), God save : i. 4. I, passiin. Scandale, «., offence : 4. 2. 139. Scene, «., a stage, the place where dramatic pieces are per- formed : ANOTHER I. [L. scena, stage.] Sciruy(tformof Jf«r7{y) : 4. 2. 75. tSempster, n., a man or woman employed in sewing: 2. 2. no. [OE. seaffies/re.] Seruant, n., tprofessed lover, authorized admirer (correlative of mistress) : I. I. 126, 2. 2. 129, 2. 3- 15, 17, passitn. tSess, t/., assess, tax: 4. 5. 112. Set, v., to stake at play, wager : 4. 4. 166. •j-Sew, v., to serve at table, as by carving, tasting, &:c. : 3. 7. 17 MN. tSevsrer, «., a servant who waits at table : 3. 3. 66, 98 MN, 3. 7. 19. Shame-fac'd, adj., modest : 3. 7. 28. \VQrY!\&x\y shamefast. Fast is adj. meaning ' confirmed ', and shame ' modesty ' in a good sense.] Sharke, «., +a sharper, cheat swindler: 4. 4. 166. Shoo-thrid, n., a shoemaker's thread : 4. 2. 90. Showe, V. i., to appear, to look : I. I. 63. Shroue-tuesday, «., the Tuesday before the first day in Lent, or Ash Wednesday, so called from the custom of making confession on that day: I. i. 160, 3. I. 7. [OE. scrifan, to shrive.] Sicknesse, n., the plague ; a spe- cific application of the word in the language of the time: i. i. 187. tSirrah, «., a word of address here equivalent to ' fellow ', often to ' sir ', with a contemp- tuous force: 2.5. 95, 3. 4. 51. Sixt, adj., sixth : 5. 3. 137. [OE. sixta.l^ Sleek, v., to iron, to smooth : 2. 6. 42. t'Slid, interj., exclamation ab- breviated from God's {eye)h'd: 1. 2. II. Slight, «. (t form of sleight) , a trick , contrivance: ANOTHER il. 'Slight, interj., a contraction of by this light, or God's light : 2. 3. 5, 2. 4. 2^,passiTn. Smocke, n., chemise: 2. 6. 42, 5. I. 54. Snuffe, n. (from the phrase to take it in snuff, to grow angry), to go away in snuffe : 4. 5 . 1 70. So, adv. (phr. or so), or about thus ; or thereabouts ; or some- thing of that kind: 5. i. 54, 5. 4. 114. Sooth, n., t cajolery, blandish- ment : 5. 2. 82, Sound, V. i., to cause something (as an instrument) to sound or play: 4. 2. 19. U 298 The Silent Woman Squire, n. (tform o{ square): 5. I. 19. State, n., 1 estate, income : 2, 2, 144 ; style of living, mode of life: 2. I. 15. Besides these Jonson uses the word in all its varied senses. Cf. for its history W. and their Ways, p. 235. Stentor, n., a person having a powerful voice : 4. 2, 125. [L. Stentor, Gr. SreVrfop.] Stiffely, adv., stubbornly : i. I. 154. Stile, n. (tform of style) : 2. 2. 118. Still, adv., always, ever: AN- OTHER 3, 2. I. -i,!, passim. Stinkardly, adj., stinking, mean : 4. 2. 109. ilStoicitie, n., stoical indiffer- ence: I. I. 66. A Jonsonian coinage. Suffer, 7'. i., to undergo punish- ment : 4. 5. 263. SuflBeient, adj., qualified, com- petent : 4. 7. 20. Superstitious, adj., + over-exact, scrupulous, beyond need : 5. 3. 129. Cf. note. Sure, adv., surely : 4. 5. 208, 5. 3. 239- Swabber, n., one who uses a swab ; hence, in contempt, a fellow fit only to use a swab : 4. 4. 168. Take, v., to please, attract : I. i. 67, lOI. Take up, v., tto stop : 4. 5. 41 ; to borrow or obtain for the pur- pose of borrowing : 1.4. 66, 67, 71, 2. 5. 118. Cf. commodity, and note: 2. 5. 118. Tame, adj., sane : 4. 4. 102. Tane, j).p. (abbrev. form of) taken : 2. 6. 61. Target, n., a shield of any form, used in 17th century by in- fantry soldiers as a substitute for body armor : 4. 4. 18. Tell, v., to command : 4. 5. 298. Tempt, v., Jto try, test : 4. 5. 152, 5. 4. 108. Terme,«.,a term of court: i. 1.50. Terme time, n., time during a term of court : 2. 5. 108. Then, adv. conj., than : 2. I. I, 3- 5- 23, 3. 7- 6, 4. 6. 2% passim. Thriftily, adv., t punctiliously : 5. 4. 238. IITinke, n., a tinkling sound : 2. 3.41. This onomatopoetic word seems to be another Jonsonian coinage. To, prep., with : 3. 5. 88. Cf. Abbott, § 185; for: i. 3. 56, 4. 4. 74, 4. 5. 288 ; against : i. 2. 64. Cf. Abbott, 186. Tether, in the expression ' the tother ', a corruption of ' that other': 2. 2. 119, 2. 5. 80. Trow, interj. (abbreviated form of I trow), I wonder: 4. 5. 38, 5. 2. 65. Truncheon, n., a staff of autho- rity : 1,3. 54. Trunke, n., ttube. Here a speak- ing tube : I. I. 194, 2. I. 2. Turbant, n. (tform of turban), ' a Turkish hat of white and fine linen, wreathed into a rundle ; broad at the bottome to enclose the head, and lessen- ing, for ornament, towards the top'.^ — Cotgrave: I. I. 145. Twanging, adj., tfine, swinging : 5. 3. 10. Cf. note. Tyranne, «. (tform of tyrant) : 2. 2. Tjf ; tyrannie: 3. 2. 10. Tyre, «., attire ; headdress : 3. 3. Ill, 4. I. 61, 118 (a simphfied form of tiara). Glossary 299 i Tyre-woman, «., a female dresser, a lady's maid : 2. 2. 1 10. tVegetous, «<^'., vigorous, active : 2. 2. 67. Venter, v. i., venture: I. 2. 21, 2. 2. 6. Visor, «., pretence : 2. 4. 36, 4. 5. 62. Vnder-take, v. i., J to assume a responsibility: 4. 5. 318; to promise, warrant : 5. 4. 252. Voyce, n., tterm, word: 4. 7. 15- Vp-braid, z/.?., to offer as a charge against something: 4. 5. 275, Cf. note. Vpon, prep., at : 4. 5. 330. Cf. Abbott, § 180. Vrge, v., tto provoke, incite, ex- asperate : 4. I. 10, Vsher, n., gentleman-usher : 2, 2. 109, Cf. note, I. 4. 58. Vtter, 7/., tto dispose of to the public in the way of trade : 4. 6. 4. Cf. note. Waight, n. (tform of wait), night musician, street player: i. I. 164. Cf. note. Water-man, n., a boatman or ferryman of the Thames : 3, 4. 31- "Weake, adj., injudicious : 2. 4. 26, 71. Well, adj. (used pred), happy, well off: 2. 6. 66 ; out of trouble : 4. 2. 147, 5. 3. 179. Welt, «., tan applied hem, a bordering, fringe : 4. 7. 43, Whiniling, adj. Cf. note, 4. 5. 231. Whitsontide, «., the season of Pentecost, comprehending the entire week following Pentecost Sunday: 3. i. 7. Whitsun - holy - day, «., the seventh Sunday after Easter, in commemoration of the descent of the Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost : 3. i. 48. tWhorson, adj., bastard-like, scurvy : 5. 3. 193. Will, V. (used tr. with pers. obj.), to bid, request : 3. 3. 12. tWindore, n. (a perversion of window) : i. 1. 179, 189, 2. 2. 26. Wind-sucker, n., a hawk known as wind-hover or kestrel : I. 4. T]. Cf. notes, i. 4. T^, 4. 4. 192. Wire, n., material used to stiffen garments, and to dress hair upon : 2. 5. 78, 3. 2. 72. With, prep., to : 2. 6. 52. Cf. Abbott, § 194 ; by, used very rarely with an agent : 5. 2. 24. Cf. Abbott, § 193. Witty, adj., twise, clever: 4. i. 94. Wood, «., a crowd : 2. 2. 82. U a INDEX Abbott, E. A., Sh. Gram., cited, 136, 137, 146, 151, 154, 156, 161, 176, 182, 183, 188, 192, 194, 199-201, 237, 259, 264, 271-73, et al. Actors of Epiccene, xxiiiff., 123, 274 fiF. Acts and Monuments, 149. ^thelred II, 166, 167. Ajax, of Sophocles, liii ; meta- morphosis of, 250. Alchemist, cited, 1 5 2, 157, 169, 171, 180, 185, 192, 200, 212, 213, 236, 243, 249. Aldgate, 140. All Hid, 252. AUin, Richard, actor, 276. All's Well, cited, 160, 167. Almanacs, 150. Alsatia, 128, Avtadis de Gaul, 221. Anabaptist, 198. Anagrams, 236. Angels, coin, 204 ; good and bad, 238. Animal Amphibium, pun, 156. Antony and Cleopatra, cited, 161, 208 ; alleged ref. in Epiccene, 239- Antwerp Polyglot, 180. Aquinas, St. Thomas, liii, 270. Aristotle, definition of poetry, Ixxi ; Jonson's opinion of, 177. Armorers, 144. Arras, 245. Ars Amatoria, a source of Epi- caene, xli ff. ; cited, 22 1, 224, et al. Artemidorus, 200. Ascham, Roger, cited, 153, 156, 169, 258. Astley, Sir John, 277. Astrology, 152. As You Like It, cited, 136, 272. AthencBum, cited, 124, 274. Attawel, Hugh, actor, 275. Ausonius, 179. Ayliffe, John, Parergon luris Canonici Anglicani, cited, 266, 269. B Bake-house, 207. Balls of soap, 210. Bank Side, 195. Banns of marriage, 182. Barber, knack with his shears, 152; -shop, 210; as a dentist, 212 ; -pole, 212. Barksted, William, actor, 276. Bartholomew Fair, cited, 137, 144-5, 154, 162, 169, 171, 174, 185, 190, 202, 204-5, 211, 218, 220, 274. Bath, a fashionable resort, 172. Bear, at the Bridge-Foot, 190 ; -baiting, 228-9 '1 Garden, 193, 195 ; -ward, 147. Beaumont, Francis, Upon the Silent Woman, 129. Beaumont and Fletcher, cited, Woman Hater, 176 ; Philaster, xli, 186, 220, 240 ; Nice Valour, 208; Scornful Lady, 214; Elder Brother, 245 ; Little French Lawyer, 246 ; Coxco7nb, 250 ; Monsieur Thomas, 259. Because, 124, 251. Index 301 Bed'Iem, 236. Begging property, 256. Bell-man, 146 ; bells of London, 148. Besant, Walter, London, cited, 148, 165, 195, 200, 205. Betrothal, 188. Betting, 135. Biggin, 215. Billingsgate, 239. Bishop, J. P., Mar. and Div., cited, 266, 268-9. Blackstone, Sir William, cited, 149, 179, 180, 244, 256, 266, 267, 270, 272. Blanketting, 27 1. Blunt, J. H., cited, 266, 267, 268, 269, et al. Boccaccio, 153. Bowling, 135 ; -green, 135. Brake, 253. Brand, John, Pop. Antiq., cited, 145, 17S> 197, 202 ff., 211 ff., 233> 252. Brasier, 144. ' Breeches, great hose, 248. Bridal, -customs, 214 ff . ; colors, 215 ; -cup, 217; -dinner, 218. Broom-men, 144. Brown-baker, 191. Buc, Sir George, 277. Burton, Robert, Anat. of Mel., cited, 170, 190, 219, 222. Butler, Samuel, Hudibras, cited, 248. Busbec, Augier Ghislen de, liii. Cadiz, 159. Caliver, 246. Canon Law, liii, 180, 242, 262 ff. ; verse of, 270. Captain, 203. Carie, Gil., actor, 275. Carpet, 251. Carting of bawds, 211. Carving, at table, 221 ; lanterns, 211. Case is Altered, cited, 141. Cataline, cited, 125, 139, 14I, 151, 176, 183, 199, 221, 264. Catastrophe, defined by Jonson, 251. Catullus, a reference to, 231. Cawarden, Sir Thomas, 123, 276. Censuring of poets, 172. Chance-medley, 213. Chapman, George, 157 ; cited, Monsieur d'' Olive, 230 ; Bussy d'Ambois, 274-5. Chaucer, use of Ars Amatoria, xlii ; rents dwelling in Aldgate, 141 ; cited, 150, 153, 168, 198, 206, 220, 255, 273. Cheapside, 226. Cherries, 144, 226. Children of her Majesty's Revels, xxii, 123, 274. Chimney-sweeper, 143. China-house, 155 ; -stuffs, 200. Chorus, in English drama, 245. Christmas Carol, Scrooge and Morose, lix. Cittern, 209. City Match, Jasper Mayne's, mo- deled on Epiccene, Ivii ff. ; cited, 149, 166, 182, 189, 215, 219, 231, 241. City's Love and Charity, 141. Civil Law, 179. Cleaveland, John, cited, 127. Clogdogdo, 231. Cloth-workers, 204. Coaches, introduced into England, 159. Cock-pit, 237, 238. Coleharbor, 189. Coleridge, S. T., cited, xxvi, Ixi, Ixviii, 146, 192. College, 138. Collier, 213. 302 77!^ Silent Woman Colman, George, adaptation of Epiccene, xviii ff. Comedy, defined, Ixxi. Comedy of Errors, cited, 207, Commodity, to take up the, 191. Compliment, 141, 214. Conduit, 207. Conjurer, 175. Constantinople, 192. Conversations with Drumtnond, cited, xxiii, 173, 177, 178, 179, 275. Coriolanus, cited, 132, 161, 215, 271, 273. Coronation-day, 150-1, Costard-monger, 144. Cranes, The Three, 190. Creighton, Charles, History of Epidemics, cited, 133, 210. Crocodile, 273. Cue, 183, Cunning-woman, 175, 241. Cut, 186. Cymbeline, cited, 133. Cynthia's Revels, Asotus, Ixx ; cited, 131, 133, 153, 174, 184, 188, 189, 193, 198, 215, 218, 221, 225, 231, 233, 259, 260, 264, 274. D Dagger, 161, 246, 255. Damon and Pythias, 252. Dancing, 219 ; -school, 191. Daniel, Samuel, censor of the Children of the Revels, 124; cited, 167 ; relation to Jonson, 173- Davenant, William, cited, The Wits, 191, 208; Love and Honour, 210. Decameron, 153. Dekker, Thomas, satirized by Jonson, 126; cited, Z?ra»z. Wks., 142, 170, 176, 189, 198, 202, 208, 209, 211, 223, 225, 233, 238, 250, 252,257; Pr. Wks., 126, 128, 131, 132, 134-9, 141, 145-8, 153-4, 159, 160-1, 163, 180, 1 84, 191-2, 194, 203, 205, 210, 212- 13, 219,223, 225-9, 230, 232, 244, 249, 255, 257-60, 263, et al. Devil is an Ass, cited, 125, 131, 138-9, 168, 170, 186, 190, 198, 200, 202, 221, 230, 258. Dinner, -hour, 154 ; menu, 1 57-8 ; wedding-, 218. Discipline, 267. Discoveries, cited, 125, 130, 173, I 7978 I. Disguise, a fashion, 174-5. Divine, 242. Divorce, history, 242; in James I's day, 262 ff. ; defined, 265. Doctor, 264-5. Dol Tearsheet, 192. Domine, 264-5. Don, 259. Don Quixote, 155, 221. Doni's Philosophy, 240. Doublets, 168, 200. Drake, Nathan, Sh. and his Times, cited, 139, 141, 154, 161, 188, 197, 203, 222, 235. Dreams, 199. Droning a tobacco pipe, 223. Drunkenness, 190, 233. Dryden, criticisms of Epicane, xxiii, Ixi, Ixii, Ixv, Ixviii, Ixix, Ixxii. Dutch, 180. E Ear-wigs, 271. Earle, John, Micro-Cosmographie, cited, 136-7, 145-6, 153, 169, 180, 184-5, 190, 203, 210, 223, 249, 253- Easter, 197. Eastward Ho, by Marston, Chap- man, and Jonson, 157 ; cited,, 241, Eat words, 272. Index 303 Edward the Confessor, 166. Egypt's plagues, 210. Eltham, 264. Embroidery, fashion for, 170. Epucene, editions, ix ff. ; adapta- tions, xviii ff. ; translations, xx ; date and history, xxiiff.; sources, xxviii ff. ; imitated, Ivii ff. ; the plot, Ixii ff. ; structure, Ixiv ff. ; purpose, Ixv ff. ; characters, Ixvii ff, ; classification, Ixxi ; Epiccene, 123. Epigrams, Jonson's cited, 128, 131, 138, 157, 174, I95» 231, 250, 259, 264. Epithalamium, 216. Essayists, Jonson's opinion of, 177, Every Man in his Humour, Mathew, Ixx ; cited, 161, 173, 249, 252-3, 262. Every Man out of his Humour, Clove, Ixx; cited, 126-7, I4i> 149, 157, 184-5, 192, 194, 205, 218, 223, 225, 253. Exchange, Royal and New, 155. Eye of the Land, 160. Fairies, 261. Fans, 187. Fashionable men, 136. Feathers, 137 ; -men, 171. Fencing, 181, 247. Fidelia, 260. Fidlers, 202 ff. Field, Nathaniel, 124, 274, 275 ; W. is a Weathercock, cited, 131, 203,254,261,275; Afnendsfor Ladies, cited, 201, 206, 214, 234, 275. Fish- wives, 142. Flaccus, Valerius, 179. Fleay, F. G., cited, 123-4, 128, 274-5- Flecknoe, Richard, cited, 124 275. Folios of Epicoene, 1616, xiii ff. ; 1640, XV ; 1692, XV. Footmen, 170. Foreman, Dr. Simon, 227. Forest, Jonson's, cited, 125. French acrobats, 167 ; intelligen- ces, 186 ; puppets, 205 ; tailors, 225 ; hermaphrodite, 253. Fuller, Th., cited, 239, 262, 273. Fury, 220. G Gallery, of the stage, 244. Galley-foist, 234. Garrick, David, production of Epiccene, xxv. Garters, wedding-, 216. Gay, John, cited, 212, 227. Gentleman-usher, 158, 170. George Stone, the bear, 197. German clock, 232. Gifford, William, edition of Epi- ccene, xvii ; defense of Morose, Ixix ; cited, 157, 162, et al. Gloves, wedding-, 214. Goldsmith, Oliver, She Stoops to Conquer, xxvi, lix; Good Nat. Man, cited, 185. Gosson, Stephen, cited, 135, 155- 8, 165, 186-7, 223. Gown, civil, 257. Grammar, Jonson's English, cited, 201. Greene, Robert, Groaf s-worth 0/ Wit, 241 ; cited, 137, 191, 213, 248, 257, et al. Grooms, 170, 216. Guelphs and Ghibellines, 245. H Hair, fashion for women, 186; for men, 210. Hallam, Henry, Lit. of Europe, cited, 180-1. Hamlet, cited, 161, 168, 198, 246. Hammer-man, 144. 304 The Silent Woman Harpocrates, 162. Harrington, Sir John, 243, 250. Hautboys, 146. Hawking, 244. Hazlitt, W. C, cited, 124, 152, 165. Health drinking, 202, 217, 233. Hell-Hounds, 234. HeracUdae, of Euripides, liii. 1 Henry IV, cited, 133, 135, 152, 157, 198, 204, 249,252. 2 Hetiry IV, cited, 137, 156, 163, 192, 202, 220, 225, 238. Henry V, cited, 149, 156, 194, 214. I Henry VI, cited, 151. 3 Henry VI, cited, 207, 259. Henry VIII, cited, 244. Heralds, 218. Hermaphrodite, 138, 253. Herrick, Robert, Hesperides, cited, 215, 216. Hindley, Charles, Cries of London, cited, 143 ff. Hilts, 252. His, for gen. 's, 201. Hobby-horse, 237. Hogs' bones, in cosmetics, 231. Homer, Jonson's criticism of, 177. Horace, in Eptccene, liv, Ivi ; cited, 124, 129, 130, 208; Jonson's criticism of, 178. Horning, 217, 260. Horse-race, 134. Hunting-match, 134. Huon de Boitrdeaux, in Eptccene, liv. Hymen, 209. I Impediments to marriage, (i) error, 266 ; (2) conditio, (3) vohtm, (4) cognatio, 267 ; (5) crimen adulterii, (6) cultus disparitas, (7) vis, (8) or do, (9) ligamen, 268 ; (10) publice honestas, (ll) affinitas exforni- catiotie, {ii) frigiditas, 269. Infantry that follow the court, 207. Innocent, 153, 205. Ireland, 192. Island Voyage, 159. Italian, 258. Jerkin, 158. Jewelry, fashion for, 170. Johnson, Samuel, cited, 142, 182. Jonson, Ben, annuity, 126; charged with personal satire, 126, 130, 257 ; mentioned in his own works, 174 ; love of a jest, 183 ; in Satiromastix, 225, 257, 271, 277 ; actor of Morose, 274 ; reversion of Master of Revels, 277 ; for citations, cf. individual works. Alchemist, &c. Julius Caesar, cited, 152, 245, 252. Justice of the Peace's Hall, 247. Juvenal, Sat. 6 and Epicoene, xliv ff., 1 ff. ; parallel expres- sions, 163, 172, 274 ; Jonson's criticism of, 178. K Kate Common, 192. Kestrils, 244. King John, cited, 141, 157, 159, 188, 246. King of Spain's Bible, 180. Kissing, the fashion of, 183, 254, Kynaston, as Epicoene, xxiii ff. Lace, introduced into England, 185. Ladanum, 242. Lafond, Ernest, translation of Epiccene, xxi. Latin and Greek, in women's education, 169. Latinisms in Jonson's prose, 172, 221, 238, 260. Latinized spelling, 123. Leaping over stools, 225, 259. Index 305 Lear, cited, 127, 206. Lee, Sidney, William Shake- speare, cited, xliv. Leg, to make a, 160, 274. L'Envoi, 263. Lhuyd, Edward, ArchcEologia Brit., cited, xlii. Libanius, a source of Epicaene, xxviii ff. Libellus, defined, 270. Linen, 253. Livy, Jonson's criticism of, 177. London Bridge, 163. Long sword, 246. Love-locks, 210. Love's Labour's Lost, cited, 139, 184-5, 194, 198, 217, 232, 250, 252. Lucan, Jonson's criticism of, 178. Lycophron, 178. Lyiy, John, cited, Euphues, 127 ; My das, 152,210; Campaspe, 185, 214, 249, 272-3 ; Sapho, 199. M Mad folks, a public spectacle, 166, 236. Magnetic Lady, cited, 126, 130-2, 174, 202, 211, 251. Maitland, F. W., Canon Law, cited, 262, 268. Mandrake, 231, Mankind generation, 271. Manningham, John, record of Twelfth Night, xxxv. Manslaughter, in James I's reign^ 256. Markham, Gervase, cited, 157, 244. Marriage, 242 ; Biblical laws, 267, 268. Marston, John, satirized by Jon- son, 126 ; author of Eastward Ho, 157; referred to in Epiccene, 174; cited, 2 Ant. and Mel., 207; Dutch Courtezan, 186, 205, 211, 220, 254, 260; Mal- content, 138, 171, 186, 203, 219, 261. Martial, Jonson's criticism of, 178; cited, 130, 202. Mary Ambree, 233. Masks, 174-5. Masques, 164 ; Jonson's, cited, 123, 127, 129, 162, 167, 174, 192, 197, 202, 211, 216, 261. Massinger, Philip, Sir Giles Over- reach, Ixvii ; cited. Par. of Love, 207 ; New Way to Pay Old Debts, 208 ; Rojnan Actor, 263 ; and Field, 275. Master, the title, 149, 263 ; of the Garden, 196 ; of the Revels, 276. May-Day, 234. Mayor, Lord, 234-5. Measure for Measure, cited, 151, 214. Medea, 227. Melancholy, 184, 239. Mercer, 172. Merchant of Venice, Shylock, bcvii; cited, 139, 146, 149, 199, 208. Mercury, 231. Meres, Francis, Palladis Tamia, xliii. Mermaid, ed. oi Epiccene, xviii. Merry Wives of Windsor, Fal- staff, xli ; cited, 175, 194, 201, 215,221,244, 255. Middleton, Thomas, cited, Mi- chaebnas Term, 137, i2>6; Father Hubburd's Tale, 155; Roaring Girl, 171, 186; Black Book, 189; Mayor of Quiti., 209 ; A Mad World, 232 ; Blurt, 243. Moldavia, 258. Mole, mule, 184. Moli^re, Ix flf. Motions, 205, 250. 3o6 The Silent Woman Mountebanks, 228. Much Ado, cited, 133, 163, 184, 186, 199, 237, 246, 272. Muskets, 247, N Nares, Robert, Glossary, cited, 137, 156, 206, 243, 2S(),etal. Near, as comp. adv., 224. Ned Whiting, the bear, 197. Neesing, 219. New Inn, cited, 211, 246, 251, 271. Night-caps, 142. Night-crow, 207. Noise, a band, 202, 217. Nomentack, 258. Notes and Queries, cited, xi, Iv, 146, 204, 217. Omens, cf. Dreams, Night-crow, Owl. Opium, 242. Orange- women, 142. Ordinaries, 128, 188. Ordish, T. F., cited, 151, 195-6, 228, et al. Ostend, xlviii, 224. Othello, cited, 185, 210. Overbury, Thomas, Characters, cited, 161, 184,205,249; death, 269. Ovid, influence in European litera- ture, xli fif. ; in Shakespeare, xliii ; a source oi Eptccene, xliv ff. Cf. Ars A mat or ia. Owl, 206. Page, 131, 255. Pageant, 199 ff. Paracelsus, 239. Paris Garden, 195. Parishes, in sixteenth century, 145. Parson, 264. Pasiphae, 203. Pauca Verba, 194. Pen, William, actor, 276. Penelope, xlviii. Pepper-corn, 135. Pepys, S., Diary, cited, xxiii-iv, 148-9, 151, 190, 229, 238, 247. Perfume, 139, 196. Persius, 179. Peruke, 132. Pewterers, 145. Phillimore, E., Eccles. Law, cited, 226, 242, 266. Philter, 227. Physician, 241. Pindar, 177. Pins, 137. Plague of London, 133-4. Planch^, J. R., ^ Cycl. ofCosttime, cited, 170, 187. Plantation of Ulster, 158, 1 92. Plato, echoed in Epiccene, liv ; Jonson's criticism of, 177. Plautus, Casina a source of Epi- ccene, xxxiv, 230 ; echoes in Epi- ccene oi Bacch., xxxiv, 184, 231 ; Aulularia, xxxv ; Menaech., XXXV ; Asinaria, liv. Play- writing, its purpose, 126, 129. Poet, defined by Jonson, 181. Poetaster, Tucca and Ovid Sen., Ixx; cited, 125, 130, 137, 151, 160, 162, 181, 183, 196, 198, 225, 231, 249, 256-7. Politian, 179. Pomponatius, 180. Pox, morbus gallicus, 210. 'Prentices, 145. Primero, 243. Progresses, royal, 172. Prologue, 126. Prynne, William, cited, 123, 210, et al. Public shows, 222. Puritan, The, cited, 190, 197, 254. Index 307 Puritans, satirized by Jonson, 165, 169, 192. Pylades and Orestes, 255. Pythagoreans, 162. Q Quartos of Eptccette, 1609 and 1612, xfF. ; 1620, xivff. R Rack, as punishment, 132. Raleigh, Sir Walter, club at the Mermaid, 124 ; importer of oranges, 143 ; tobacco, 224. Rapier, 255. Ratcliff, 235. Raynard the Fox, 240. Recreant, 272. Reformados, 262. Revels, 209 ; Master of, 276. Richard III, cited, 207. Richardson, Mrs., adaptation of Epiccene, xx. Riddles, 226, 258. Rival Friends, Peter Hansted's, Iviii ff. Romeo and Juliet, cited, 133, 136, 199, 233, 245-6. Rope-walking, 167. Roses, 168. Round, walk the, 249. Ruffs, 186. Rushes, 133. S Sad Shepherd, cited, 272. Sadler's horse, 220, Saint Andrew, of Scotland, 229. Saint Chrysostom, an echo in Epicoene, Iv. Saint George, of England, 229. Saint Mary le Bow, 163, Saint Paul's Cathedral, 164. Salisbury, racing at, 172. Satiromastix, 225, 252, 257, 271, 277. Scarf, 188. Schlegel, A. W. von, Dram. Art and Lit., cited, Ixii. Scott, Walter, Fortunes of Nigel, cited, 128-9, 152} 210, 243. Scrivener, 258. Sejanus, cited, 125, 139, 162, 169, 203, 232. Selden, John, Table Talk, cited, 157, 161, 211, 219, 264. Sempster, 171. Seneca, 177; the tragedian, 178. Sergeant, 249. Servants, lovers, 141 ; treatment of household, 169,208. Set in the nick, 243. Shadwell, Thomas, xv ; opinion oi Epicoene, xxiv ; cited, 128. Shakespeare, William, Twelfth Night, a source of Epiccene, XXXV ff. ; and Ovid, xliii ; Shy- lock, Ixvii ; for citations, cf. in- dividual works, AlPs Well, &c. Shall and will, 167. Shrove Tuesday, 145, 194, 238. Sick Man's Salve, Thomas Bacon's, 240. Siddons, Mrs., as Epicoene, xxv. Sidney, Sir Philip, definition of poetry, Ixxi ; Jonson's estimate of, 181. Signs, barber's-pole, 212 ; sadler's, 220. Silenced brethren, 169. Silver dishes, 201. Silver Street, 231. Simancas, Diego, cf. Symancha. Sir, a title, 263-5. Sleeves, 186. Small, R. A., Stage-Quarrel, cited, 126, 173- Smith, itinerant, 144. Smith, John, actor, 276. Snuff, to go away in, 249. Song, Still to be Neat, source, Iv-vi ; 140. 3o8 77?^ Silent Woman Spectator, cited, lix, 142, 180,261. Spenser, Edmund, Jonson's criti- cism of, 173 ; cited, 206, 273. Sphinx, 193. Spurs, 230, Stansby, William, 124. Staple of News, Madrigal, Ixx ; cited, 129, 130, 138, 156, 173, 182, 207, 218, 232, 236, 251, 253,271. Stationers'' Registers, cited, x, xxii. Statius, 179. Stockings, 196, 254. Stow, John, Survey of London, cited, 140, 141, 149, 163, 187, 193, 207, 235, 239. Strand, 155, 231. Strange sights, 166. Street, cries, 142 ff. ; lighting, 147 ; order in, 161. Strutt, Joseph, cited, 134-5, 148-9, 168, 209, 222, 247. Stuart, Sir Francis, 1 24. Stubbes, Phillip, Anat. of Abuses, 138-9, 149, 152, 159, 170, 175, x86-8, 190, 196, 210, 219, 223, 253,255,263. Suetonius, quoted in Epiccene, Ivi. Swearing, 150- 1. Swinburne, A. C, cited, xxiii, Ixii. Symancha, 180. Symonds, J. A., cited, xxvii, Ixii, 140. Tacitus, Jonson's criticism of, 177. Taine, H. A., Eng. Lit., cited, Ixii, Ixiv, Ixviii. Tale of a Tub, cited, 146, 202, 204, 215, 218. Taming of the Shrew, cited, 127, 194, 201. Tatler, cited, 1 46. Taylor, John (the Water Poet), cited, 145, 154, 205. Tempest, cited, 166, 175, 217,234. Tennis, 149. Terence, in Epiccene, Iv ; cited, Andria, 126. Term, 136. Terrible boys, 156. Thames, xlix ; 163. Then, comp. adv., 161. Thornbury, G. W., Shakespere's England, cited, 134, 166, 2cx), 263, et al. Thucydides, Jonson's criticism of, 177. Tieck, Ludwig, translation of Epiccene, xxi. Tilney, Edmund, 277. Tilting, 222. Titivilitium, 230. Titus Andronicus, cited, 217. Toasts and butter, 198. Tobacco, 223-4. Tooth- picks, 183. Tower Wharf, 150-I, 239. Tragi-comedy, 245. Tripoly, 259. Tritons, 230. Troilus and Cressida, cited, 132, 199. Trumpeters, 146, 202. Tuer, A. W., Old London Street Cries, cited, 143 ff. Twelfth Night, a source oi Epi- ccene, XXXV fF. ; cited, 169, 201, 204, 213,219, 233. Twiss, Richard, Travels, cited, xx. Two Gentlemen of Verona, cited, 133, 141, 158, 188, 220. Two-hand sword, 246. U Under correction, 194. Undertaker, 125. Underwoods, cited, 123, 125, 152, 164, 173-5, i8i> 222, 226, 236, 253, 273, et al. ';f^k:M. ERRATA. Page xxiii, last line, /or Kinaston read Kynaston. „ 142, 1. j8, for Planche read Planche. Also on pp. 170, 1S7, 282. ., 195, 1. 9 from bottom, _/br collige read college. ,, 215, 1. 13 from bottom, y^r favours-blue read iavors — blue. „ 230, 1. 6 from bottom, /or Manly, Predecessors 0/ Shakespeare, p. 326 r^a^/ Manly, Pre-Shakesperian Drama 1. 326. ,, 241, 1. 10, for Vir esset read virescit, „ 244, 1. II from bottom, /or Gervaise r^a^ Gervase. ,, 283, 1. 2 2, /or Swinburne, A. G. riffl^ Swinburne, A. C. Epiccene.'\ I The Silent Woman 309 Vacation, 189. Vatablus, 180. Vaulters, 167. Velvet, 197. Virgil, lines parodied in Epiccene, Ixi ; Jonson's criticism of, 178. Virginia, 192. Volpone, a source of, in Libanius, xxxiii ; cited, 125, 128, 129, 148, 183, 211, 215, 238, 240, 256, 273, 274. W Wagers, 130. Waits, 146. Ward, A. W., Hisi. of Eng. Dram., cited, Ixii, Ixix, Ixx ; 200, 277. Ware, great bed of, 259. Warton, Thomas, Eng. Lit., cited, xlii. Waterman, 204. Webster, John, cited. White Devil, 207 ; Northward Ho, 236. Weh, 257. Wendell, B., William Shake- spere, cited, xliv. Westminster, 235 ; -Hall, 238. Whalley, Peter, edition of Jonson, xvi. Whitefriars, 124, 128. Whitehall, 138, 149, 172, 197. White-mane, 135. Whitsunday, 194, 197. Windsucker, 160. Wine, 126, 217. Winter's Tale, cited, 253, 261, 271. Wire, 127, 186. Woodcocks, as food, 157; an epithet, 198. Worsted, 196. Your, 161. OXFORD : HORACE HART PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY / YALE STUDIES IN ENGLISH. Albert S. Cook, Editor. I. The Foreign Sources of Modern English Versification. Charlton M. Lewis, Ph.D. $0.50. II. ^Ifric: A New Study of his Life and Writings. Caroline Louisa White, Ph.D. $1.50. III. The Life of St. Cecilia, from MS. Ashmole 43 and MS. Cotton Tiberius E. VII, with Introduction, Variants, and Glossary. Bertha Ellen Lovewell, Ph.D. $1.00. IV. Dryden's Dramatic Theory and Practice. 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