Edited by Peter Happé
INTRODUCTION
Of recent years Jonson’s last completed play has attracted more approval than was formerly the case: a recognition that it has its own dynamic, and is part of his remarkable achievements in the later plays. Its critical history in the twentieth century was overshadowed by the decision of the Oxford editors to regard it as an early play, in accordance with which they printed it first in their edition. Herford and Simpson believed that the play’s archaic language, farcical situations, and similarity to other Elizabethan plays indicated that Jonson had written it at the beginning of his career but left it unprinted. They thought that he returned to it in 1633, revising it for performance in the form in which it was subsequently printed. More recently, this view has been challenged by those who have felt that A Tale of a Tub was written as a pastiche, and that its setting and style can best be understood in relation to events and to currents of artistic or political nostalgia discernible in the Caroline period.
The stage history of A Tale of a Tub is brief. On 7 May 1633 the Master of the Revels, Sir Henry Herbert, licensed it for performance by Queen Henrietta’s Men:
R[eceived] for allowing of The Tale of the Tub, Vitru Hoop’s part wholly struck out, and the motion of the tub, by command from my Lord Chamberlain; exceptions being taken against it by Inigo Jones, surveyor of the King’s works, as a personal injury unto him. May 7, 1633, – £2.0.0 (Bawcutt, 1996a, 179, modernized)
It was performed at the Cockpit, Drury Lane, a location perhaps offering a more sympathetic audience than the Blackfriars, where Jonson had probably become disenchanted by the reception of his previous two plays. Added to this, there may have been differences with the King’s Men, who had performed The Magnetic Lady in the year before. Thomas Nabbes referred to A Tale of a Tub in 1633 (see 1.1.23n. and Nabbes’s Tottenham Court, 5.3, 5.6), and the play must have done well enough, as it was presented at court on 14 January 1634. Herbert’s Office Book records the reaction there:
The Tale of the Tub was acted on Tuesday night at court, 14 Janua[ry] 1633 [i.e. 1634], by the Queen’s players and not liked. (Bawcutt, 1996a, 186)
No further performances are known, and the play has not subsequently been revived. The consequence of such a sparse stage history is that actors and directors have had little chance to discover and develop its undoubted qualities.
The text first appeared in F2, which was printed by John Dawson Junior for Thomas Walkley, where it follows The Magnetic Lady, with The Sad Shepherd coming after. The reprint in F3 has no independent authority, but it carries a number of commonsense corrections. The F2 text follows the conventions adopted by the compositors for the rest of Volume 3 regarding layout, such as the rather plain headings for acts and scenes – much less elaborate than in the two earlier volumes of the Works. Jonson’s influence is apparent in the spelling, the punctuation, the use of italics for proper names and foreign words, and in the division of the scenes, which follows his favoured convention of massed entries at the beginning of each (see Textual Essay, Electronic Edition). These features suggest that the copy may have been close to a Jonson autograph, but some doubt remains because of the frequent stage directions. However, since there are a goodly number of these in The Sad Shepherd, which was presumably never in a playhouse, their presence is not decisive. Though Jonson did come out of his room to attend a funeral in 1632, it remains unlikely that he saw the performances of A Tale of a Tub.
As Herbert’s office-book shows, Jonson was obliged to revise the text before it was licensed for performance. There are three aspects of the play showing signs of revision: the character of Medley/Hoop, the motion (i.e. the puppet play), and the Scene Interloping after 4.1. Herbert, prompted by the Lord Chamberlain, required Hoop and the motion to be ‘struck out’. It seems unlikely that performances defying his stipulations would have been allowed to take place, but, although Vitruvius Hoop does not appear in the printed text, apart from one passing reference (5.2.72–3), the ‘motion’ centred on a tub does survive in print as the climax of Act 5. It is clear from Herbert’s comment that a motion was present in the text submitted to him. We cannot be certain whether it was included at the Cockpit, but the end of the play would have been abrupt without it. Possibly Jonson did make adjustments for the performance, which are now lost, and then restored the motion to the copy used by the printer. These difficulties surrounding the motion may account for a certain discontinuity in the part of In-and-In Medley, who apparently replaced Hoop as its creator and as the focus of the satire upon Inigo Jones. He is variously described as a cooper, a carpenter, a joiner, a weaver, and an architect.
A further puzzle is the Scene Interloping. Its unusual heading must surely indicate that Jonson saw it as breaking through some kind of restraint. The word ‘interloping’ carries the sense of being ‘unauthorised’ (OED). Possibly Herbert had required its removal, though the office-book entry reproduced above does not mention it specifically, but when the play was performed it is hardly likely that Jonson or the players would risk ignoring such a prohibition. This leaves us with the further possibilities that the scene as we have it was left out of the performance, but that it was retained (perhaps in revised form) in the text intended for printing; or that Jonson wrote it specially in defiance of the inhibition, but kept it off the stage. This second idea may be strengthened by the fact that what actually happens in this scene is negligible for the development of the plot and by the circumstance that it preserves the most personalized satire on Inigo Jones still to remain in the play. In either case the scene’s concern with the origin and lore of the names of the ‘wisest’ in Finsbury adds a good deal to the play’s attention to local colour and traditional ways of thinking.
Confusion over the play’s genesis has been compounded by the difficulty of knowing whether this was a new play in 1633, or an older play revived and revised. It was the view of the Oxford editors that in 1633, in search of material that he could use to attack Inigo Jones, Jonson returned to a play he had written in the 1590s but had chosen not to publish. In their analysis of the text they emphasized differences of style within it. They felt that a more formal, and by implication less skilful kind of verse was to be found in places, such as the speeches by Squire Tub at 2.4.49–57 and 3.3.3–13, and Audrey at 3.6.27–35 ( H&S, 1.285–7, and see also 9.268–75). These, they suggested, were perhaps relics of an older play, possibly written by another, which Jonson might have adapted. Their position was challenged as early as 1926 by W. W. Greg, and more recently by Anne Barton, who argued that the play ‘makes sense only when read – in its entirety – as a Caroline work’ (1984, 312). Martin Butler has also made a strong case for seeing the play as determined by the Caroline political context (1990b and 1992c), and Julie Maxwell has linked it to some ecclesiastical issues current in the period (2002). A further pointer to a later date is the play’s insistent preoccupation with the office of the high constable. It was only after 1631 that the ‘chief constables’ of the Middlesex hundreds became known as ‘high constables’ (Baker, 1980, 6.4–5; see The Act, 24n. below), so that the fun Jonson extracts from Toby Turf’s pompous title derives directly from a recent local circumstance.
Some support for the Oxford editors’ view has emerged in Hugh Craig’s statistical study of the incidence of common words in Jonson’s work. This argues that Jonson’s earlier practice with such words may be found from the end of Act 1 into a substantial part of Act 2, and that it recurs in the middle of Act 4 (Craig, in Butler, 1999a, 228). But as Craig’s statistical data also plausibly suggests that Jonson deliberately adopted an archaic style, especially in Acts 2 and 3, the information he gives does not allow a clear-cut conclusion. If Jonson did make such an attempt to recall language from the past, it would accord with the nostalgic aspects of the play discussed below. The upshot of these textual matters is that if there are some fossils embedded in the text, they do not materially alter the fact that the play was brought to fruition by Jonson in May 1633, and most of what it contains bears upon the context of that time. If Jonson did adapt earlier material, he did so creatively. It would seem that even if we must accept that the date cannot be definitively proved, the case for 1633 is significantly stronger than that for an earlier date.
No direct sources have been found for the main plot, the trials and tribulations of the wedding-day of Audrey Turf, daughter of Toby, the High Constable of Finsbury. The text is enriched by some minor influences including Donne, Sidney, and Skelton, and the chronicles of Fabian and Holinshed, and some possible Shakespearean echoes or parallels (1.1.61–2, 65; 2.2.120–7; 5.3.32–3). There are some similarities in the rural setting with Henry Porter’s The Two Angry Women of Abingdon, in which there is also a complicated plot involving confusion over a marriage (Barton, 1984, 325), but it is likely that, like many of Jonson’s other principal plots, this one is substantially original. Its design depends upon the aspirations of three would-be husbands for Audrey, Justice Preamble, Squire Tub, and John Clay, and the unexpectedly successful Pol-Marten, and it is most remarkable for the increasing complexity of its last three acts. Presumably this exemplifies the catastrophe Jonson advocated in The Magnetic Lady (Chorus 4, 21–4). His prevailing interest in and allusion to the Elizabethan theatre in composing A Tale of a Tub may have led him to other comedies with complicated plots and distinctive settings outside London, such as The Merry Wives of Windsor (1600), Lyly’s Mother Bombie (1589), and Gammer Gurton’s Needle (c.1553). This last has a close focus upon a rural community with a series of laughable (‘ridiculous’, Tub, Prol. 4) complications about something which finally emerges as of little consequence, matching the proverbial title. Audrey’s admission that she doesn’t really care whom she marries (3.6.43–4 and 4.5.85–93) prevents us from taking the outcome too seriously, and so the plot may be of as little consequence as the loss of the Gammer’s needle. However, though the author of Gammer Gurton’s Needle was in close pursuit of a classical idiom, he seems deliberately to have avoided raising wider social or political questions, whereas Jonson shows a pervasive awareness of the politics of the 1630s, his approach to which is rendered oblique by the play’s nostalgia for Elizabethan circumstances and theatrical practices.
Like so many of Jonson’s plays, A Tale of a Tub has a language or languages of its own. Jonson has made a deliberate and sustained attempt to give Toby Turf, his family, and associates a distinctive rural speech. The dialect is largely consistent and was long ago linked, on grounds which have since been shown to be insecure, with the south-west of England (Eckhardt, 1910, 6.38–40). However, there is a stronger possibility that it reflects the Middlesex dialect from the countryside around London (Britton, 1993), and that it embodies speech forms that Jonson would have known from his childhood. Britton (1993, 26), using data from the English Dialect Dictionary and other sources including place names, has identified distinctive Middlesex features. The outstanding ones are the use of /v/ for /f/ (‘vind’, 1.1.76), /z/ for /s/ (‘zieve’, 1.1.73), and some pronouns used frequently, ‘ich’ for ‘I’ and ‘hun’ or ‘’un’ for ‘him’ or ‘them’ (see 1.1.56n., 1.2.7, 1.2.12n.). However, it has to be admitted that, although these forms are frequent and consistent with one another, their presence is intermittent. Sometimes the rural characters speak politely, and, conversely, the language of educated characters is occasionally infected with rural speech. Such inconsistency may have been created by Jonson himself, by inadequate revision by him, or by copyists or the printers. The policy adopted for this edition has been to preserve the rural elements rather than modernizing them to conform with the rest of the text, on the grounds that they reflect Jonson’s intentions, however inconsistently they were carried out. Moreover, they do offer a distinctive theatrical aspect which might be incorporated in performance.
This rural speech contrasts with the elaborate, falsely poetic style used by Squire Tub, and it is consonant with the ingenious and plentiful use of proverbs. Jonson had always been interested in these, but their accumulation and juxtaposition in A Tale of a Tub is remarkable, and he draws attention to them more than once (Prol. 8; 2.1.58; 4.6.97). Some sequences are a patchwork of known sayings: for example, one conversation between Hugh and Preamble contains about a dozen in thirteen lines (3.7.13–25). At times Jonson interconnects two such phrases as though he were trying to create a new proverb, as in the variant on the well-known ‘like will to like’ (2.4.14–16; see also 2.5.38–40 for another elaboration). As in the case of some of the rustics in the plays of John Heywood, a predecessor whom Jonson acknowledges here and elsewhere, these expressions may indeed be suitable to the rural setting of the play, but it also seems likely that Jonson is exploiting their sometimes mischievous ambiguity. They can readily be made to imply more than is actually said. In this way they become part of Jonson’s careful screening of underlying intent, because proverbial expression works partly on the basis that we are always aware of its limitations and possible contradictions.
Our interpretation of Jonson’s assemblage of material with Elizabethan reference is complicated by some uncertainty about precisely which historical period the play was meant to adopt. Possibly Jonson did not want to be too precise in his retrospect: there has been a division of opinion over whether the play is set in the reign of Queen Mary or the early years of Queen Elizabeth I. References to Henry Ⅷ and Edward Ⅵ, and a number of Catholic details, such as Our Lady’s shrine at Walsingham, one of the most popular destinations for pilgrimages (3.1.3), may slightly favour the former. But frequent indications that the ruler is a queen may equally be reflections of the first years of Elizabeth’s reign when there was still some toleration of Catholicism. The position is further confused because there is a reference to the king’s highway (3.5.6), but this may the result of an incomplete revision, occasioned by the exigencies of censorship, or it may be another of the ‘deliberate’ mistakes that Jonson gives his characters (as at 1.2.2 and 4 Scene Interloping 55). Nor does the possibility that Clench was christened before 1547 settle the matter (4 Scene Interloping 22). Nevertheless these retrospective details are a deliberate move to place the play in an earlier time. They may well have been intended to evoke some kind of idealized and nostalgic recollection of great days, and they work effectively as a means of gaining a critical perspective on Jonson’s own time from an imagined historical past. Another possibility, unrelated to the Tudors, is that the Turfs’ thirtieth anniversary (1.1.49) may recall the year 1603, the year of Elizabeth’s death, James I’s accession, and the beginning of Jonson’s relative prosperity (Sanders, 1998a, 167). Thus it is not possible to be certain about exactly what the implied historical period was meant to be, and this makes it all the more likely that Jonson’s suggestions about it are consciously a part of his indirect approach to his own time.
This choice of a colourful past, idealized or not, makes possible a commentary on the present. Jonson’s interest in the current state of the monarchy of Charles I is intense and pervasive in many of his writings in the 1630s. At a private level he was still personally concerned because he had lost status, and indeed wealth, since the accession of Charles, partly because of the worsening state of the rivalry with Inigo Jones. He had been obliged to adopt a very different way of life, and his illness must have made his everyday circumstances difficult. But he remained loyal, and his writings are supportive of the King, while simultaneously offering advice or constructive criticism. Just two weeks after the registration of A Tale of a Tub, on 21 May, the Chorus in The King’s Entertainment at Welbeck was singing of Charles as ‘the fount of light’ (31). We should also note that in the early years of Charles’s personal rule (after 1629) the country was relatively calm (Sharpe, 1992, 177–9). At this time, while different and conflicting views were still being actively canvassed before political positions became polarized, persuasion might have seemed a hopeful strategy.
A Tale of a Tub is a remarkable evocation of country life in the villages north of the city of London. The interest of the court in pastoral showed itself in many ways, and it is likely that Jonson was responding to it, albeit with some reservations about court tastes. These country folk are distinguished as much by their folly and incompetence – not to mention their ignorance, evidenced in their confusion over the identity of St Valentine (1.2.2–26) – as by their good-hearted solutions to their problems. The latter suggests that they are to be valued whatever their shortcomings. Charles paid close attention to the conduct of affairs in local communities, though his interventions were not always welcomed or successful (Sharpe, 1992, 463–87), and Jonson’s interest here may well be a reflection of this. He gives these rural characters value without idealizing them, and he achieves this partly by his recall of Elizabethan stage conventions. Puppy, with his excruciating jokes (Turf/turf, 3.4.19–20; tail/tale, 3.5.40–4) and his egregious overacting (3.2.1–26), performs a reprise of earlier clowns like Mouse in the exceptionally popular Mucedorus, which was performed many times from 1590. He is even given a speech in the fourteeners popular on the stage in the mid-sixteenth century. Similarly Audrey’s blunt, homespun ways may well recall her namesake in As You Like It.
But we need to remember that A Tale of a Tub was ‘not likte’ at court. In the context of possible interplay between country and court, Jonson’s concentration upon rustics and parish gentry avoids commenting on the nobility. The nearest is Lady Tub, whose wealth comes from the not-too-attractive but valuable saltpetre trade, a known grievance in the 1640–1 parliamentary sessions because of the disruptive incursions into private property by ‘saltpetre men’ (see 1.1.13n.). Despite her lusty search for a Valentine, she is rather dried up (1.5.68–70). Squire Tub speaks an outdated romantic language, and though he mounts a ‘masque’, carrying out the desirable aristocratic role of entertainment and hospitality, it turns out to be merely a shadow play for puppets. There is here an intriguing juxtaposition with the splendour and the politically important role of the masques at court, to which both Charles and Henrietta Maria were personally committed, and the setting at Totten Court may have been seen by some as a disparaging reflection on Whitehall.
As to commoners, apart from the comic aspects, which actually might make for good entertainment onstage, there is a somewhat critical attitude towards the administrators of power in the local community. Judge Preamble, whose nickname ‘Bramble’ is irresistible even to Lady Tub (5.3.35), is involved in trickery in his designs upon Audrey in spite of the burden and responsibility of his office as a justice of the peace. Likewise Chanon Hugh, though a cleric, disguises himself as the destructive Captain Thumbs. An anti-Laudian undertone is possible in the case of ‘Sir’ Hugh. The choice of the parish of St Pancras, which had a Laudian vicar at the time, and some hints at clerical matters, such as ‘lack-Latin’ (1.1.21), a cassock (1.1.66), deeds of charity (1.7.9 and note), and auricular confession (4.5.35–7), may encode reservations about the current spread of Laudian discipline (Maxwell, 2002, 57–8, and Sanders, 1998a, 177). Laud became Archbishop of Canterbury in August 1633, between the play’s initial performance in May and its appearance at court in the January following. At this period his emphasis upon traditional ritual aspects of church life, reminiscent as they were of Catholicism, had begun to stimulate opposition, in spite of support from the King. Although there is a warning about the ‘vice of interpretation’ in 2 Chorus of The Magnetic Lady, the frequency of the small ecclesiastical references noticed above does give rise to the view that Jonson’s attacks were deliberate.
The central political figure is High Constable Turf. The cares of his office are great, perhaps a reflection of the effects of the King’s social policies (hence the phrase ‘Johns-for-the-king’, 4 Scene Interloping 57). After the failure of the 1629 Parliament, Charles sought ways of raising finance and consolidating his authority through the prerogative powers of the crown. One of these was to put greater pressure on parish officers to carry through royal policies. This fell particularly upon justices of the peace and constables, whose authorities were intertwined (Sanders, 1998a, 169–71). Turf despairingly gives up his responsibilities at one point (3.3.18–23), and he is quick to respond to Medley’s mention of too much paperwork (3.1.39–42). There is even notice of conflict or rivalry between constables and the justices (3.6.36–7). It may be that his method of choosing a husband for his daughter recalls the traditional practice of Valentine lotteries, but this hardly offsets the uneasiness which Jonson has built into his professional predicament between the crown and the people.
Some other social aspects were potentially offensive at court. Lady Tub’s elevation of Pol-Marten, originally a saltpetre labourer, to the status of gentleman could challenge the King’s discouragement of social mobility, especially into the upper ranks (Sharpe, 1992, 419–22). Even if Jonson did not mean to cause offence, and even if his intentions were supportive, we cannot be surprised if the King and Queen were not too impressed. We should add that their distaste might also have been aesthetic. The country idiom Jonson developed in A Tale of a Tub is markedly less genteel in tone than the dramatic style of The Magnetic Lady, and it is not very similar to plays with pastoral elements known to have been well received at court at this time, such as The Winter’s Tale, Cymbeline, and Fletcher’s The Faithful Shepherdess. Nor does it accord with the country flavour of Welbeck or The Sad Shepherd. Though Jonson had written two masques in 1630, Love’s Triumph through Callipolis and Chloridia, other writers were now being commissioned to write in collaboration with Inigo Jones, and it is quite possible that his method in the motion, with its crude physical machinery and outrageously trite action, was a specific and well-timed protest. But it is apparent that caution about the precise nature of the disapproval from the court is necessary. From the variety of topics noted here we may assume that Jonson was deeply concerned about the court and the political environment, and yet his vulnerable position, including his financial dependence and a decline in personal influence, might well have prompted restraint on his part. Nevertheless, Jonson’s literary skills enabled him to use conventional mockery of parson, squire, justice, and constable in such a way as to suggest that cumulatively they make for a critique of royal authority. Summing up Jonson’s political stance, we conclude that his loyalty to the crown was accompanied in A Tale of a Tub by lively criticism of some individual royal policies.
If Jonson did indeed misjudge the political pressures of the time, his theatrical skills and his rich dramatic inventiveness remain accessible today. Even where he uses conventions he obviously enjoyed, like the browbeating of Metaphor by the intemperate Hilts (2.6.8–46), his comic touch is evident in both Metaphor’s speedy capitulation and the later pusillanimity of Hilts faced with a ‘devil’ (4.6.34–87). The plot is skilfully devised and the characterization varied and richly differentiated. Many of the characters are cameos with distinctive attributes of behaviour and speech, as in the absurdly over-precise Preamble, ineffectually finicky about his name, the eccentrically learned Scriben, and the irascible Hilts. John Clay, the intended bridegroom, is reminiscent of the natural fool tradition, which had found its way on to the stage in the previous century. He has peculiar clothing – sausage hose, a leather doublet with long points, yellow stockings, a large hat pinned up on one side with a silver clasp, and a muckender (see 2.2.124–7, and 3.1.53n.) – and the last we hear of him is that he is weeping at table and still fearful of being hanged (5.8.6–7). If he is indeed a ‘natural’, he is complementary to the intelligent, impertinent, and versatile Puppy, who suggests the witty stage fool.
Jonson’s recall here of the earlier staging of folly may well be associated with a recurrent aspect of his dramatic art. His interest in theatre often involves an exploration of genre, something he did notably in his other late plays. A Tale of a Tub is essentially a farce. Jonson acknowledges this at the outset: ‘Stuff out the scenes of our ridiculous play’ (emphasis supplied), the origin of the word ‘farce’ being something stuffed (see Prol. 4 and note). The characters are mostly very simple types, and the twists and turns of the action follow the interweaving of mischance, intrigue, and misunderstanding, which are essential to this genre. The repeated use of disguise (by Chanon Hugh and Hilts, who is called ‘Broom-beard’, 2.2.24) is another appropriate device. Moreover, the effect of the characters upon the audience reveals just that absence of feeling and that reduction of motives which help to make farce workable and recognizable. The satirical mode adopted exposes foibles in a direct way. From time to time, the neighbours, or the council of Finsbury, troop onto the stage, bringing their strange blend of comic wisdom. In the end we don’t really care who marries whom, and it adds to the fun that the marriage of Audrey to Pol-Marten seems to happen by chance. Indeed, this mockery of love is sustained in other ways, including Puppy’s game as a half-Valentine (3.4.23–3.5.9).
For a modern producer there is one intriguing theatrical problem to be solved: how to stage the motion. Though the text tells us frustratingly little about the original arrangements, the practical comic inventiveness of actors and directors today might well devise a convincing rendering. However, a judgement has to be made about how ridiculous it should be. The details in the text about using a tub, oiled paper (which, Jonson pointedly notes, every barber and cutler had in stock), and a candle, suggest a parody of the court masque, especially its elaborate and expensive machinery. It may well be that this communal act, presided over by Squire Tub, is meant as a reflection upon court values and on royal interference in a peaceful world. In spite of their many foibles, the characters are mostly well-intentioned, and the ceremonial presentation of the motion marks the end of all difficulties. The presence of the entire cast on the stage to watch themselves solving their own problems is a remarkable variation of Jonson’s frequently used device of an onstage audience (Happé, 2003). In the course of the entertainment the comments by the onlookers largely point to reconciliation. This may suggest that whatever the subtleties of political and religious discourse, there was at least a means of resolving the complexities of laughter and intrigue in theatrical terms. Jonson may have claimed to loathe the stage in 1629, but here at least, in his last completed play, his resourceful and hearty engagement in a multiplicity of theatrical effects is manifest.
The Persons that Act
- MILES METAPHOR
-
his clerk 5
- LADY TUB
-
of Totten, the Squire’s mother
- JOAN, JOYCE
-
- GRISELL, KATE
-
Prologue
Illumining the High Constable and his clerk
And all the neighbourhood, from old records
We bring you now, to show what different things
Doth cut and shear’; your day and diocese
Are very cold. All your parishioners,
Had need to keep to their warm feather-beds
To the young lord o’the manor, Squire Tripoly, 10
Who left his mother, Lady Tub of Totten
I dare not call aloud lest she should hear me,
Of all mankind for him.
TUB
What news of him?
HUGH
He has waked me
An hour before I would, sir. And my duty
To the young worship of Totten Court, Squire Tripoly,
Is to be made away from you, this morning,
St Valentine’s Day. There are a knot of clowns,
In-and-In Medley, cooper of Islington,
And headborough; with loud To-Pan, the tinker,
Or metal-man of Belsize, the thirdborough;
And D’ogenes Scriben, the great writer of Chalcot.
TUB
And why all these?
TUB
And what must he do?
And keep her warm, sir; Mistress Audrey Turf 45
Last night did draw him for her Valentine.
Which chance, it hath so taken her father and mother –
Because themselves drew so, on Valentine’s Eve
Was thirty year – as they will have her married
Today by any means. They have sent a messenger 50
TUB
What is’t, Sir Hugh?
TUB
Open your t’other eye,
And view if it be day.
HUGH
Bilk? What’s that?
TUB
Yes, till we hear a finer.
What’s your device now, Chanon Hugh?
TUB
That’s the way;
You ha’ thought to get a new one, Hugh. Is’t worth it?
Let’s hear it first.
And melting as the weather in a thaw!
And bound up like a frost, with the new year,
In January; as rigid as he is rustic.
Oh, for a choir of these voices now, 90
To chime in a man’s pocket, and cry chink!
One doth not chirp: it makes no harmony.
His charity must offer at this wedding.
Although but one can bear away the bride.
These weddings are. Clay hath her in possession;
And putting ’em together; which is yet
Praformed, as on his day – Zin Valentine, 25
As being the Zin o’the shire, or the whole county.
SCRIBEN
You should do well to study
Records, fellow Ball, both law and poetry. 40
TO-PAN
Master High Constable comes.
PUPPY
I’ll zay’t avore ’hun.
CLENCH
A contervarsy ’twixt your two learn’d men here:
’Annibal Puppy says that law and poetry
Are both flat cheating. All’s but writing and reading, 5
He says, be’t verse or prose.
MEDLEY
Why, my friend Scriben, an’t please Your Worship.
That verse goes upon veet, as you and I do.
But I can gi’ ’un the hearing; zit me down,
And laugh at ’un; and to myself conclude
And holdin’ arguments of verse and prose?
Or speaks a wedding?
PUPPY
And they’re too good for strewings, your maids say.
Get some fresh hay then, to lay under foot;
Is’t not Son Valentine’s day, and Mistress Audrey,
Your young dame, to be married? [Exit Puppy.]
And the clown sluggard’s not come fro’ Kilburn yet!
MEDLEY
Do you call your son-i’-law clown, an’t please Your Worship?
They were the first colons o’the kingdom here, 35
Where’s D’ogenes, my writer, now? What were those
You told me, D’ogenes, were the first colons
O’the country? That the Romans brought in here?
Avore ’hun, here vrom Dover on the march.
Which piece of monumental copper hangs 55
Over the Thames at a low-water mark,
TURF
Zee, who is here: John Clay!
Zon Valentine, and bridegroom! Ha’ you zeen 60
Your Valentine-bride yet, sin’ you came, John Clay?
Which he is captain of, captain of Kilburn;
And spring a new Turf to the old house!
TURF
A tale of a tub, sir, a mere tale of a tub. 25
Lend it no ear, I pray you. The Squire Tub
Is a fine man, but he is too fine a man,
And has a Lady Tub too, to his mother;
I’ll deal with none o’these vine silken Tubs.
Here comes another old boy too, vor his colours,
Of all her milk-money this winter quarter:
Old Father Rosin, the chief minstrel here,
Chief minstrel, too, of Highgate. She has hired him 35
And all his two boys for a day and a half,
And now they come for ribanding and rosemary.
Out in his tunes anon.
SCRIBEN
There’s another reading now:
My master reads it Son and not Sin Valentine. 45
PUPPY
Nor Zim. And he is i’the right; he is high constable.
And who should read above ’un, or avore ’hun?
TURF
Son John shall bid us welcome all, this day;
We’ll zerve under his colours. Lead the troop, John,
Of Finsbury, in our name: D’ogenes Scriben
Shall draw a score of warrants vor the business.
This hundred, ’bove the high constable?
ALL
No, no.
TURF
Use our authority then to the utmost on’t. 55[Exeunt.]
PREAMBLE
Subtle Sir Hugh, you now are i’the wrong, 10
And err with the whole neighbourhood, I must tell you,
For you mistake my name. Justice Preamble
I write myself; which with the ignorant clowns here –
Because of my profession of the law,
But all my warrants, sir, do run Preamble:
Richard Preamble.
HUGH
Sir, I thank you for’t,
That Your good Worship would not let me run
Longer in error, but would take me up thus –
PREAMBLE
Well marked!
You know not any of ’em?
PREAMBLE
Ha’ you acquaintance with him, 40
To borrow his coat an hour?
HUGH
Or but his badge,
’Twill serve; a little thing he wears on his breast.
PREAMBLE
His coat, I say, is of more authority;
Borrow his coat for an hour. – I do love
To do all things completely, Chanon Hugh. – 45
Borrow his coat, Miles Metaphor, or nothing.
HUGH
I’ll take my leave, sir, of Your Worship too,
Because I may expect the issue anon.
We that take fees allow ’em to our counsel, 55
And our prime learned counsel, double fees.
I’your foot-walk this frost, for fear of falling,
When you come at it.
HUGH
I’Your Worship’s service. 60
That the exploit is done, and you possessed
Of Mistress Audrey Turf –
HUGH
And I, of this effect of two to one.
His mother has quite marred him: Lady Tub,
LADY TUB
Will have him called? Wherefore did I, sir, bid him
Be called, you weasel, vermin of an usher?
If you do use ’em. I shall no more call you
Pol-Marten, by the title of a gentleman,
If you go on thus –
To a great worshipful lady, as myself!
A stinking name, and not to be pronounced
Young, pretty, and handsome, being then, I say,
A basket-carrier, and a man condemned
To the saltpetre works; made it my suit
And call him as I do now, by Pol-Marten,
And he to serve me thus! Ingratitude!
Beyond the coarseness yet of any clownage 35
What now, is he stirring?
LADY TUB
And comes he then?
POL-MARTEN
No, madam, he is gone.
LADY TUB
Gone! Whither? Ask the porter where’s he gone.
POL-MARTEN
I met the porter, and have asked him for him; 40
He says he let him forth an hour ago.
LADY TUB
An hour ago! What business could he have
So early? Where is his man, grave Basket Hilts,
His guide and governor?
POL-MARTEN
Gone with his master.
LADY TUB
Is he gone too? Oh, that same surly knave 45
He has carried him to some drinking match or other.
Pol-Marten – I will call you so again,
To all the towns about here where his haunts are, 50
And cross the fields to meet and bring me word;
He cannot be gone far, being afoot.
The love
We mothers bear our sons we ha’ bought with pain, 55
Makes us oft view them with too careful eyes,
And overlook ’em with a jealous fear,
LADY TUB
How now, Wisp! Ha’ you
A Valentine yet? I’m taking th’air to choose one.
WISP
Fate send Your Ladyship a fit one then.
LADY TUB
What kind of one is that?
That takes the foolish eye! Any poor creature
Whose want may need my alms or courtesy,
To feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit 10
The weak and sick, to entertain the poor,
And give the dead a Christian funeral.
These were the works of piety he did practise,
And bad us imitate; not look for lovers,
Or handsome images to please our senses. 15
I pray thee, Wisp, deal freely with me now;
We are alone, and may be merry a little.
For wit or beauty i’the city; tell me,
What man would satisfy thy present fancy, 20
Had thy ambition leave to choose a Valentine
WISP
Yo’ha’ gi’ me a large scope, madam, I confess,
And I will deal with Your Ladyship sincerely;
I’ll utter my whole heart to you. I would have him 25
Three city ladies should run mad for him, 30
And country madams infinite.
LADY TUB
You’d spare me
And let me hold my wits?
LADY TUB
Come,
Let’s walk; we’ll hear the rest as we go on.
Would I could be as merry! My son’s absence
Troubles me not a little, though I seek
These ways to put it off, which will not help.
Care that is entered once into the breast
Will have the whole possession, ere it rest. 45[Exeunt.]
TURF
True, neighbour Medley, yo’are still In-and-In. 5
The nail o’the head at a close. I think there never 10
My wedded wife. Indeed my wife would ha’ had
All the young bachelors and maids, forsooth, 15
O’the zix parishes hereabout. But I
And mine own family would be enough
MADGE
Why should Her Worship lack
Her tail of maids more than you do of men? 40
ALL [MAIDS]
Else we’ll guard our dame.
To show your pomp you’d ha’ your daughter and maids
At afternoon.
DAME TURF
I’ll ha’ ’em play at dinner. 55
TO-PAN
A right good man! When he knows right, he loves it. 60
SCRIBEN
And he will know’t and show’t too by his place
Of being high constable, if nowhere else.
CLENCH
Nay, pray you, gentleman –
With showing the teeth of it. We now are going
To church in way of matrimony, some on us; 20
TURF
I charge you in the queen’s name, keep the peace. 30
MEDLEY
But, zir,
You must obey the queen’s high officers.
HILTS
Are you zo! What then?
DAME TURF
Out on him for a knave! What a dead fright 40
He has put me into! Come, Audrey, do not shake.
AUDREY
But is not Puppy hurt? Nor the t’other man?
DAME TURF
Husband –
AUDREY
Father –
TURF
Nay, pray you, sir, be not angry, but content;
My man shall make you what amends you’ll ask ’hun.
HILTS
Gramercy, good High Constable’s hine! But hear you? 75
Mas’ Constable, I have other manner o’ matter
To bring you about than this. And so it is:
I know not whether you know ’hun or no. It may be 80
You do, and’t may be you do not again.
TURF
No, I assure you on my constableship,
I do not know ’hun.
Having occasion to come riding by here, 85
And so they left us. Now, Don Constable,
I am to charge you in Her Majesty’s name,
The loss is of some value; therefore look to’t.
Of a thousand pound, if I know what to zay.
If I do know what course to take, or how
To turn myself. Just at this time too, now,
My daughter is to be married! I’ll but go
To Pancridge church hard by, and return instantly,
And all my neighbourhood shall go about it. 105
TURF
Nay, good sir, stay. – Neighbours, what think you o’this?
DAME TURF
Faith, man –
HILTS
Thieves’ kind, I ha’ told you.
TURF
I mean, what kind of men?
HILTS
Men of our make.
There was one busy fellow was their leader,
And a pair of pinned-up breeches, like pudding-bags, 125
With yellow stockings, and his hat turned up
DAME TURF
By these
Marks it should be John Clay, now bless the man!
HILTS
John Clay? What’s he, good mistress?
CLAY
No’s my record; I never zaw you avore. 135
CLENCH
Vaith, do; my gossip Turf zays well to you, John. 140
HILTS
Well, Master Constable, this your fine groom here,
To get a warrant to raise hue and cry,
And bring him and his fellows all afore ’hun. 165
As you’ll answer it. Take heed; the business
DAME TURF
Why, do you hear, man? Husband? Master Turf?
What shall my daughter do? Puppy, stay here. 180
AUDREY
Mother, I’ll go with you and with my father.
AUDREY
What ha’ you
To do to ask, I pray you? I am a-cold. 5
PUPPY
It seems you are hot, good Mistress Audrey.
AUDREY
Done with me!
I do defy you, so I do, to say 10
You ha’ done with me. You are a saucy Puppy.
PUPPY
Oh, you mistake! I meant not as you mean.
PUPPY
No, not I.
Clay meant you all the knavery, it seems,
Who, rather than he would be married to you, 15
Chose to be wedded to the gallows first.
AUDREY
What, Puppy! Puppy!
This Chanon has a brave pate of his own!
This was his plot! I follow Captain Thumbs?
This Captain Thumbs to his neighbours. You shall see
And leap into it to save himself from hanging. 45
You talk of a bride-ale? Here was a bride-ale broke
To mine own master, the young Squire, and then
Done you some wrong, but now I’ll do you what right 50
I can. It’s true you are a proper woman,
As Clay! Methinks your friends are not so wise
As nature might have made ’em. Well, go to;
There’s better fortune coming toward you, 55
It may prove better than you think for, look you.
AUDREY
Squire Tub, you mean. I know him; he knows me too.
HILTS
He is in love with you; and more, he’s mad for you.
TUB
Oh, you are a trusty governor!
TUB
Quietness, Hilts, and hear no more of it. 5
TUB
What’s he?
Our plot hath hitherto ta’en good effect; 20
And should it now be troubled or stopped up,
’Twould prove the utter ruin of my hopes.
I pray thee haste to Pancridge, to the Chanon,
And gi’ him notice of our good success.
Fair Audrey and myself will cross the fields
The nearest path. Good Hilts, make thou some haste,
With a foxtail when he has done. And there is all! 35
HILTS
Tut, keep your land and your gold too, sir. I 40
More: you will know to spend that zum you have
Early enough. You are assured of me.
Now th’adventurous Squire hath time and leisure
To ask his Audrey how she does, and hear 50
A grateful answer from her. She not speaks.
Of former beauty in my love’s fair cheek,
Staining the roseate tincture of her blood
With the dull dye of blue-congealing cold? 55
No, sure the weather dares not so presume
To hurt an object of her brightness. Yet
Ha! Gi’ me leave to search this mystery!
Oh, now I have it. – Bride, I know your grief; 60
The last night’s cold hath bred in you such horror
Of the assignèd bridegroom’s constitution,
But I must do thee good, wench, and refresh thee.
TUB
Why, did you ever love me, gentle Audrey?
AUDREY
Love you? I cannot tell. I must hate nobody,
My father says.
TUB
Yes, Clay and Kilburn; Audrey,
You must hate them.
AUDREY
It shall be for your sake then.
TUB
What are those, Audrey?
TUB
What was it? 80
Speak, gentle Audrey, thou shalt have it yet.
Hath shot quite through me and hath hit my heart;
And thence it is I first received the wound 90
But, being flesh, I cannot. I must love her,
Were it for nothing but to cross my rivals. – 95
Come, Audrey, I am now resolved to ha’ thee.
PREAMBLE
Keep the peace, I charge you.
TUB
Are you there, Justice Bramble? Where’s your warrant?
TUB
Well, pursuivant, go with me. I’ll give you bail. 15
PREAMBLE
Sir, he may take no bail. It is a warrant
In special from the Council, and commands
Your personal appearance. Sir, your weapon
I must require, and then deliver you
A prisoner to this officer.
TUB
I thank you, sir. But whither must I go now?
Thou art a blind bawd and a beggar too,
To cross me thus, and let my only rival 40
O’th’ court, am sent for thither by the Council.
My heart is not so light as’t was i’the morning.
TUB
Oh, Hilts!
METAPHOR
Do you hear, friend? Do you serve this gentleman?
METAPHOR
Nay, pray you, sir, I meant no harm, in truth; 10
But this good gentleman is arrested.
HILTS
How?
Say me that again.
METAPHOR
You say, sir, very true, you must obey. 15
An honest gentleman, in faith!
HILTS
He must?
TUB
But that which most tormenteth me is this,
That Justice Bramble hath got hence my Audrey.
HILTS
How? How? – Stand by a little, sirrah, you
With the badge o’your breast. Let’s know, sir, what you are. 20
METAPHOR
I am, sir – pray you, do not look so terribly –
A pursuivant.
HILTS
A pursuivant! Your name, sir?
METAPHOR
My name, sir –
HILTS
What is’t? Speak!
METAPHOR
Miles Metaphor,
And Justice Preamble’s clerk.
HILTS
Pray you,
Let us alone. – You are a pursuivant? 25
HILTS
Ha! And who made you one? Tell true, or my will
Shall make you nothing, instantly.
METAPHOR
My master, Justice Bramble, hearing your master,
The Squire Tub, was coming on this way
With Mistress Audrey, the High Constable’s daughter, 35
Made me a pursuivant and gave me warrant
To arrest him, so that he might get the lady,
With whom he is gone to Pancridge, to the vicar,
Not to her father’s. This was the device,
HILTS
Well, bless thee. I do wish thee grace to keep 45
Thy master’s secrets better, or be hanged.
HILTS
Thine own wish save or choke thee! Come away. [Exeunt.]
TURF
Passion of me, was ever man thus crossed?
And with a shovel make clean the highways, 5
Than have this office of a constable,
It brings more trouble, more vexation with it.
Neighbours, good neighbours, ’vize me what to do,
How we shall bear us in this hue and cry. 10
We cannot find the Captain; no such man
Lodged at the Lion, nor came thither hurt.
And by that means the bride-ale is deferred;
The bride, she’s left alone in Puppy’s charge; 15
MEDLEY
Masters, take heed, let’s not vind too many;
A proper man, a tile-man by his trade;
And two or three – they zay – what call you ’em?
Grant – I forget their names, you ha’ many on ’em,
Master High Constable, they come to you;
To bring him straight avore the zessions house.
What shud a man zay? Shud we leave the zearch?
That was provided for the wedding dinner
Is spoiled and lost. Oh, there are two vat pigs
Too good to eat but on a wedding-day; 50
Zun Clay, zun Clay – for I must call thee so –
And dry thine eyes. If thou be’st true and honest,
And if thou find’st thy conscience clear vrom it, 55
I durst be sworn upon all holy books,
John Clay would ne’er commit a robbery
All Kilburn be my witness, if I were not
Let ’un bring a dog but to my vace, that can 70
I have as much as zet avire her tail,
But to give out and zay I have robbed a captain! 75
E’er thought of any such matter, or could mind it –
TURF
But how unhappily it comes to pass
Just on the wedding-day! I cry me mercy,
I had almost forgot the hue and cry.
Good neighbour Pan, you are the thirdborough,
And D’ogenes Scriben, you my learnèd writer, 85
Make out a new purcept – Lord, for thy goodness,
I had forgot my daughter all this while!
The idle knave hath brought no news from her.
Here comes the sneaking Puppy. What’s the news?
My heart! My heart! I fear all is not well, 90
PUPPY
Oh, where’s my master? My master? My master?
DAME TURF
Thy master! What wouldst with thy master, man?
There’s thy master.
TURF
What’s the matter, Puppy?
PUPPY
Oh, master! Oh, dame! Oh, dame! Oh, master!
DAME TURF
What say’st thou to thy master, or thy dame? 5
PUPPY
Oh, John Clay! John Clay! John Clay!
TURF
What of John Clay?
TURF
For luck sake speak, Puppy: what hath he lost?
PUPPY
Oh, Audrey, Audrey, Audrey!
DAME TURF
What of my daughter Audrey? 15
PUPPY
I tell you, Audrey – do you understand me?
Audrey, sweet master, Audrey, my dear dame –
TURF
Where is she? What’s become of her, I pray thee?
PUPPY
Oh, the servingman! The servingman! The servingman!
TURF
What talk’st thou of the servingman? Where’s Audrey? 20
PUPPY
Gone with the servingman, gone with the servingman.
DAME TURF
Good Puppy, whither is she gone with him?
TURF
Now villains both! Oh, that same hue and cry! 35
Oh, neighbours! Oh, that cursèd servingman!
Oh, maids! Oh, wife! But John Clay, where’s he?
How shall we do to find the servingman? 40
Audrey, my daughter Audrey too! Let us zend
To all the towns and zeek her; but alas,
The hue and cry, that must be looked unto.
TUB
What, in a passion, Turf?
The ground of which springs from an idle plot
Your daughter Audrey met I on the way,
With Justice Bramble in her company,
Who means to marry her at Pancridge church.
And there is Chanon Hugh to meet them ready. 10
TURF
Hath Justice Bramble got my daughter Audrey?
But oh, the hue and cry! That hinders me;
The over-laden ass, throw off my burden,
TUB
I cannot choose but smile to see thee troubled
That trick the Justice craftily devised
To break the marriage with the tile-man Clay.
The rather may you judge it to be such 30
Because the bridegroom was described to be
Which, how far ’tis from him, yourselves may guess;
DAME TURF
That’s done already, man.
PUPPY
No, no service,
But a reward for service.
POL-MARTEN
Madam, to Kentish Town we are got at length,
But by the way we cannot meet the Squire,
Nor by inquiry can we hear of him.
Here is Turf’s house, the father of the maid.
PUPPY
Not you that are without.
POL-MARTEN
Look forth, and speak
Into the street, here. Come before my lady.
LADY TUB
Sirrah, whose man are you?
PUPPY
Madam, my master’s.
LADY TUB
And who’s thy master?
PUPPY
What you tread on, madam.
LADY TUB
I tread on an old turf.
PUPPY
That Turf’s my master. 20
LADY TUB
A merry fellow! What’s thy name?
PUPPY
Ball Puppy
They call me at home; abroad, Hannibal Puppy.
WISP
None, madam.
He’s the first stranger that I saw.
LADY TUB
To me 25
He is so, and such. Let’s share him equally.
DAME TURF
How now, what noise is this with you, Ball Puppy?
PUPPY
Oh, dame! And fellows o’the kitchen! Arm,
Arm, for my safety, if you love your Ball!
Have plotted on me in the king’s highway
To steal me from myself, and cut me in halves,
To make one Valentine to serve ’em both;
This for my right-side, that my left-hand love.
DAME TURF
Your Ladyship is very welcome here.
Please you, good madam, to go near the house. 25
PUPPY
Turf’s wife, I come thus far to seek thy husband,
Having some business to impart unto him.
Is he at home?
LADY TUB
That somewhat easeth my suspicious breast.
Tell me, Turf’s wife, when was my son with Audrey?
How long is’t since you saw him at your house?
PUPPY
Marry, it is two hours ago.
LADY TUB
Sin’ you saw him?
PUPPY
Your sun and our sun, are they not all one?
POL-MARTEN
Didst thou ne’er hear my lady had a son?
LADY TUB
Marten, I wonder at this strange discourse.
Was doubtless here this morning. For the match,
I’ll smother what I think, and staying here, 70
Attend the sequel of this strange beginning. –
Turf’s wife, my people and I will trouble thee,
Until we hear some tidings of thy husband;
CLENCH
One of Southampton –
MEDLEY
The t’other of Warwick Castle.
TURF
That, that, good D’ogenes!
A learnèd man is a chronicle.
TURF
That was their place!
They were no more.
MEDLEY
High constable was more, though!
He laid Dick Tator by the heels.
That should have had three husbands in one day,
Then Squire Tub he seized me on the way
And Justice Bramble, nearest of the three,
Was well-nigh married to me, when by chance
In rushed my father and broke off that dance. 35
Let’s back to Kentish Town, and there make merry;
These news will be glad tidings to my wife.
Thou shalt have Clay, my wench; that word shall stand. 40
He’s found by this time, sure, or else he’s drowned.
The wedding dinner will be spoiled; make haste.
Nor can I make conjecture by the circumstance 5
Of these events; it was impossible,
To come so quickly to the ears of Turf.
O priest, had but thy slow delivery
As had been requisite, all had been well!
But thus you see th’old adage verified,
And though they touch, you are not sure to drink.
You lacked good fortune, we had done our parts;
PREAMBLE
What news, man, with our new-made pursuivant?
PREAMBLE
What now’s the matter?
HUGH
What is become o’the Squire and thy prisoner?
PREAMBLE
I pray thee, Miles, relate the manner how.
That I, Miles Metaphor, Your Worship’s clerk,
By multitude of hands. Had they been but
As nimbly as a squirrel will crack nuts, 45
Among the pages. But when they came on
About a fare, then was poor Metaphor 50
To quit his charge to them, and run away
To save his life, only to tell this news.
PREAMBLE
Miles, I will see that all thy hurts be dressed.
As for the Squire’s escape, it matters not; 60
We have by this means disappointed him,
But Chanon Hugh, now muster up thy wits,
To disappoint her marriage with this Clay.
TURF
Madam, they no whit were concerning me,
And therefore was I less inquisitive.
LADY TUB
A sober maid! – Call for my woman, Marten.
DAME TURF
No, he has hid himself out of the way,
For fear o’the hue and cry.
PUPPY
Where wisemen should be: at the ale and bride-cake.
Or to be hanged or married out o’the way;
Vaith, vor mine own part, 35
I have zupped up so much broth as would have covered
Would they were once dispatched, we might to dinner.
Till by some honest midwife-piece of beef
I be delivered of it. I must go now
And hunt out for this Kilburn calf, John Clay,
Whom where to find, I know not, nor which way. [Exit.]
This scarf upon mine arm shows my late hurts,
Friends, by your leave, which of you is one Turf? 10
TURF
Sir, I am Turf, if you would speak with me.
HUGH
With thee, Turf, if thou be’st high constable.
TURF
I am both Turf, sir, and high constable.
HUGH
Then, Turf or Scurf, high or low constable,
And passing ’cross the ways over the country
No sooner had I got my wounds bound up,
But with much pain I went to the next justice, 20
One Master Bramble, here at Maribone:
And here a warrant is, which he hath directed
For you, one Turf – if your name be Toby Turf –
And you shall answer it afore the Justice. 25
TURF
Heaven and Hell, dogs, devils, what is this!
Neighbours, was ever constable thus crossed?
What shall we do?
MEDLEY
Faith, all go hang ourselves;
I know no other way to ’scape the law.
PUPPY
News, news! Oh, news –
TURF
What, hast thou found out Clay? 30
PUPPY
No, sir, the news is that I cannot find him.
He that was most suspected is not found,
And which now makes me think he did the deed,
He thus absents him and dares not be seen. – 40
Pray for me, wife and daughter, pray for me.
Of all the painful a’ventures now in print!
This bride-ale; for the night before today –
Which is within man’s memory, I take it – 55
Who died soon after; a cow lost her calf;
The hens too cackled, at the noise whereof
A drake was seen to dance a headless round;
Or fairest concubines, had their necks broke
Heart of a beast, the very pig, the pig
Ha’ bit in two the spit, as he would say,
And zure, I think, if I had not got his tongue
Between my teeth and eat it, he had spoke it.
With my salt tears at the next washing day. [Exit.]
PREAMBLE
Keep out those fellows; I’ll ha’ none come in
But the High Constable, the man of peace,
Now, neighbour Turf, the cause why you are called
Is this, and pray you mark it thoroughly!
Who was this morning robbed here in the wood.
You, for your part, a man of good report, 10
And by authority high constable,
Are notwithstanding touched in this complaint,
Of being careless in the hue and cry.
I cannot choose but grieve a soldier’s loss, 15
And I am sorry too for your neglect,
PREAMBLE
Sir, I dare use no partiality.
Object then what you please, so it be truth.
TURF
I do defy ’hun; so shall she do too. 30
I pray Your Worship’s favour, le’ me have hearing.
And’t not disgrieved me a little, when ’twas told me,
And who should marry her but this very Clay, 35
Who was charged to be the chief thief o’hun all.
The truest man, till he waz run away.
PREAMBLE
He speaks but reason, Turf. Bring forth the man,
And you are quit; but otherwise, your word
Binds you to make amends for all his loss.
As well az I waz i’their bellies, and brought up there.
What would you ha’ me do? What would you ask of me? 65
Fourscore and five pound. I ask besides
Amendment for my hurts; my pain and suffering
I’ll put it to Your Worship; what you award me
I’ll take, and gi’ him a general release.
TURF
Where will you ha’ it paid?
HUGH
Faith, I am a stranger 80
Here i’the country. Know you Chanon Hugh,
The vicar of Pancras?
HUGH
I’ll make him my attorney to receive it,
And give you a discharge.
TURF
Whom shall I send for’t?
PREAMBLE
Why, if you please, send Metaphor, my clerk. 85
And, Turf, I much commend thy willingness;
It’s argument of thy integrity.
Good Master Metaphor, give my wife this key,
She knows it well enough. Bid her, by that,
Deliver you the two zealed bags o’silver
That lie i’the corner o’the cupboard stands
At my bedside – they’re vifty pound apiece –
And bring ’em to your master.
Fair Audrey. Say her father sent for her;
Say Clay is found and waits at Pancras church,
Where I attend to marry them in haste.
For by this means, Miles, I may say’t to thee,
Thy master must to Audrey married be. 105
Be wary of thy charge, and keep it close.
And but that business calls me hence away,
I would not leave you till the sun were lower –
By the same token is your mistress sent for 115
By Metaphor, your clerk, as from her father,
Who, when she comes, I’ll marry her to you,
Which I must now make good; turn Chanon again, 120
In my square cap. – I humbly take my leave.
PREAMBLE
I’ll secure you, neighbour. [Exeunt.]
To vind it. My godsire’s name, I’ll tell you,
And it did fit his craft: for so his shittle 5
Went in and in still, this way, and then that way.
And he named me In-and-In Medley; which serves
A joiner’s craft, because that we do lay
MEDLEY
Yes, you ha’ done woundy cures, gossip Clench.
SCRIBEN
One Rasis was a great Arabic doctor.
CLENCH
He was King Harry’s doctor, and my godphere.
MEDLEY
But what was yours, D’oge?
SCRIBEN
Vaith, I cannot tell
If mine were kursined or no, but zure he had
Vor h’had no house, save an old tub, to dwell in – 30
I’the wind’s teeth, as’t blew on his backside,
A week, sometimes.
SCRIBEN
That was avore Sir Peter Tub or his lady.
TO-PAN
Ay, or the Squire their son, Tripoly Tub.
CLENCH
The Squire is a fine gentleman!
I know his d’ameters and circumference.
A knight is six diameters, and a squire
Is vive and zomewhat more; I know’t by compass
And scale of man. I have upo’ my rule here 45
The just perportions of a knight, a squire;
Upo’ the bench, from the high constable
TO-PAN
Pray luck he speed
Well i’the business between Captain Thumbs
And him!
[Exeunt.]
HILTS
Let Kentish Town or Pancridge come to us,
If either will. I will go home again. 5
TUB
Faith, Basket, our success hath been but bad,
And nothing prospers that we undertake;
For we can neither meet with Clay, nor Audrey,
The Chanon Hugh, nor Turf the constable.
We are like men that wander in strange woods, 10
And lose ourselves in search of them we seek.
or a post-horse,
I am as weary with running as a mill-horse
That hath led the mill once, twice, thrice about, 25
After the breath hath been out of his body.
Or, to say truth, a very pack-saddle,
And I could sit in the seat no longer. 30
METAPHOR
Lie! How?
HILTS
Thou liest o’the ground.
Dost thou know me?
HILTS
What is my name, then?
METAPHOR
Basket.
HILTS
Basket what?
METAPHOR
Basket the great –
HILTS
The great what?
And wast made up of patches, parings, shreds;
Thou, that when last thou wert put out of service,
For boys to hurl, three throws a penny, at thee, 50
This sword shall shred thee as small unto the grave
As minced meat for a pie. I’ll set thee in earth
All, save thy head and thy right arm at liberty
What, why, and whither thou wert going now,
And tell me truly, lest I dash’t in pieces.
METAPHOR
As my mouth.
I think all’s knavery; for the Chanon whispered
Me in the ear, when Turf had gi’n me his key,
By the same token to bring Mistress Audrey 70
Is found – which is indeed to get the wench
Forth for my master, who is to be married
Ready and all there to dispatch the matter. 75
TUB
Then do thy message to the Mistress Turf:
Tell her thy token, bring the money hither,
And likewise take young Audrey to thy charge; 85
Which done, here, Metaphor, we will attend,
You two shall share the money, I the maid.
If any take offence, I’ll make all good.
METAPHOR
But shall I have half the money, sir, in faith? 90
TUB
Ay, on my squireship shalt thou, and my land.
METAPHOR
Then if I make not, sir, the cleanliest ’scuse
To get her hither, and be then as careful
To keep her for you as’t were for myself,
Down o’your knees, and pray that honest Miles 95
May break his neck ere he get o’er two stiles.
Of his devices, force the foolish Justice
Make way for your love, plotting of his own –
And falls into’t himself!
HILTS
Who but a fool will refuse money proffered?
TUB
Thou serv’st him rightly, Hilts.
TUB
We’ll think o’that
When once we have her in possession, governor. [Exeunt.]
PUPPY
You see we trust you, Master Metaphor,
With Mistress Audrey. Pray you, use her well,
As a gentlewoman should be used. For my part,
As I had nothing where to put mine arms in,
As for example you shall see me. Mark 10
She, for her own part, is a woman cares not
Of honesty and good manners. So farewell,
Fair Mistress Audrey; farewell, Master Miles. 15
I ha’ brought you thus far onward o’your way;
I must go back now to make clean the rooms
Where my good lady has been. Pray you commend me
METAPHOR
Come, gentle mistress, will you please to walk?
AUDREY
I love not to be led; I’d go alone.
METAPHOR
Here are two bags; there’s fifty pound in each.
AUDREY
Yes, twenty words.
Comes in my mind, to leave the way to Totten
And turn to Kentish Town again my journey. –
And hath he thence removed her in such haste! 25
What shall I do? Shall I speak fair, or chide?
POL-MARTEN
Madam, your worthy son with duteous care
Can govern his affections. Rather then
Break off their conference some other way,
Pretending ignorance of what you know. 30
LADY TUB
Mine you were once, though scarcely now your own.
TUB
Madam, I pray you, spare me but an hour. 40
Please you to walk before, I follow you.
LADY TUB
It must be now; my business lies this way.
TUB
Will not an hour hence, madam, excuse me?
LADY TUB
Squire, these excuses argue more your guilt.
You have some new device now to project 45
Which the poor tileman scarce will thank you for.
What? Will you go?
LADY TUB
’Tis very well; but Squire, take you no care.
I’ll send Pol-Marten with her for that office.
You shall along with me; it is decreed.
TUB
I have a little business with a friend, madam.
LADY TUB
That friend shall stay for you, or you for him. – 55
Pol-Marten, take the maiden to your care;
Commend me to her father.
TUB
I will follow you.
LADY TUB
Tut, tell not me of following.
TUB
I’ll but speak
A word.
This maid hath had, she now should fall to me,
That I should have her in my custody!
She’s fair and handsome, and she’s rich enough. 70
AUDREY
No, sir; what’s that?
POL-MARTEN
A toy which women use.
AUDREY
If’t be a toy, it’s good to play withal.
POL-MARTEN
It’s thus, fair maid: are you disposed to marry?
AUDREY
You are disposed to ask.
POL-MARTEN
Are you to grant? 80
POL-MARTEN
[Aside] I see the wench wants but a little wit,
And that defect her wealth may well supply. –
In plain terms, tell me, will you have me, Audrey?
AUDREY
In as plain terms, I tell you who would ha’ me. 85
John Clay would ha’ me, but he hath too hard hands;
I like not him; besides, he is a thief.
And Justice Bramble, he would fain ha’ catched me;
But the young Squire, he, rather than his life,
Would ha’ me yet and make me a lady, he says, 90
And be my knight to do me true knight’s service,
A lady, would I ha’ you?
TUB
Madam, ’tis late, and Pancridge is i’your way;
I think Your Ladyship forgets yourself.
DAME TURF
Madam, I had been there an hour ago, 20
But that I waited on my man, Ball Puppy. –
[She calls] What, Ball, I say! – I think the idle slouch
Be fallen asleep i’the barn, he stays so long.
DAME TURF
Why dost thou bawl so, Puppy? Speak, what ails thee?
TUB
How, spirits in the barn? Basket, go see.
HILTS
An’ they were giants, ’twere another matter:
But devils! No, if I be torn in pieces 40
What is your warrant worth? I’ll see the fiend
Set fire o’the barn ere I come there.
DAME TURF
Now all zaints bless us, an if he be there!
He is an ugly sprite, I warrant.
LADY TUB
Basket, I pray thee, see what is the miracle!
TUB
Why art thou thus afraid?
TUB
Puppy, wilt thou go with me?
Whither? Into the barn? To whom? The devil?
Or to do what there? To be torn ’mongst ’hum?
Or In-and-In, the headborough; let them go
Into the barn with warrant, seize the fiend, 60
And set him in the stocks for his ill rule.
’Tis not for me that am but flesh and blood
HILTS
Heaven protect my master! 65
I tremble every joint till he be back.
HILTS
Where, man? Where?
DAME TURF
Alas, that ever we were born! So near too!
PUPPY
The Squire hath him in his hand, and leads him 75
Out by the collar.
DAME TURF
Oh, this is John Clay.
TUB
This was the spirit revelled i’the barn.
LADY TUB
But how came Clay thus hid here i’the straw,
When news was brought to you all he was at Pancridge,
And you believed it?
LADY TUB
Where’s the Squire?
Is he gone hence?
CLAY
Is the hue and cry passed by?
PUPPY
Ay, ay, John Clay. 95
CLAY
And am I out of danger to be hanged?
PUPPY
Oh, wonderful! And news was brought us here
You were at Pancridge, ready to be married.
CLAY
No, faith, I ne’er was furder than the barn.
DAME TURF
And you, John Clay, you are undone too! All!
My husband is undone, by a true key
But a false token; and myself’s undone
By parting with my daughter, who’ll be married
To somebody that she should not, if we haste not. 115
[Exeunt.]
AUDREY
Is the Squire gone?
HILTS
Thank you, good D’oge.
TUB
Who’s that?
HILTS
D’oge Scriben, the great writer, sir, of Chalcot.
TUB
And who the rest?
HILTS
The wisest heads o’the hundred.
Medley the joiner, headborough of Islington,
Pan of Belsize, and Clench, the leech of Hampstead: 15
The High Constable’s council, here, of Finsbury.
TUB
Prezent me to ’em, Hilts: Squire Tub of Totten.
TO-PAN
A masque! What’s that?
TUB
But who shall write it?
HILTS
Scriben, the great writer.
TUB
Yes. Master In-and-In, I have heard of you.
TUB
A pretty time! – Basket, go you and wait
On Master In-and-In to Totten Court,
And all the other wise masters. Show ’em the hall,
That can raise matter, till I come – which shall be
Within an hour at least.
LADY TUB
Oh, here’s the Squire! You slipped us finely, son!
These manners to your mother will commend you,
But in another age, not this. Well, Tripoly,
Your father, good Sir Peter, rest his bones,
Would not ha’done this. Where’s my usher, Marten? 5
And your fair Mistress Audrey?
PUPPY
And I have lost my mistress, Dido Wisp,
Who frowns upon her Puppy, Hannibal. 15
Loss! Loss on every side! A public loss!
Loss o’my master! Loss of his daughter! Loss
Of favour, friends, my mistress! Loss of all!
PREAMBLE
What cry is this?
TURF
My man speaks of some loss.
DAME TURF
Oh, husband, are you alive?
They said you were lost.
TURF
Where’s Justice Bramble’s clerk?
Had he the money that I sent for?
DAME TURF
Yes,
Two hours ago; two fifty pounds in silver,
And Audrey too.
TURF
Why Audrey? Who sent for her? 25
DAME TURF
You, Master Turf, the fellow said.
LADY TUB
Neighbour Turf, have patience;
I can assure you that your daughter is safe. 30
But for the monies, I know nothing of.
PREAMBLE
I do wonder
Your Ladyship comes to know anything
In these affairs.
PREAMBLE
Know you that, sir?
LADY TUB
You told me, Squire, a quite other tale, 45
But I believed you not; which made me send
Audrey another way by my Pol-Marten,
And take my journey back to Kentish Town,
Where we found John Clay hidden i’the barn,
To ’scape the hue and cry; and here he is. 50
John Clay shall pay; I’ll look to you now, John.
’Tis but two vifty pounds I ha’ ventured for you,
But now I ha’ you, you shall pay whole hundred.
DAME TURF
My lady’s son, the Squire here, vetched ’hun out.
Puppy had put us all in such a vright
We thought the devil was i’the barn, and nobody 65
Durst venture o’hun.
TURF
I am now resolved
Who shall ha’ my daughter.
DAME TURF
Who?
HUGH
Is Metaphor returned yet?
PREAMBLE
All is turned
Here to confusion, we ha’ lost our plot;
I fear my man is run away with the money,
And Clay is found, in whom old Turf is sure
To save his stake.
HUGH
What shall we do then, Justice? 5
PREAMBLE
The bride was met i’the young Squire’s hands.
HUGH
And what’s become of her?
TUB
Dispatched ’em! How do you mean?
HUGH
Why, married ’em,
As they desired, but now.
TUB
And do you know
What you ha’ done, Sir Hugh?
HUGH
No harm, I hope.
TUB
You have ended all the quarrel: Audrey is married.
LADY TUB
Married! To whom?
DAME TURF
Nor her father or mother!
LADY TUB
Whom hath she married?
TURF
Is he a man?
LADY TUB
That he is, Turf, and a gentleman I ha’ made him.
PREAMBLE
If the young Squire can pardon it, I do. [Exeunt.]
HUGH
But saith Dido so?
[Exeunt.]
POL-MARTEN
For that I made
Bold with Your Ladyship’s wardrobe, but have trespassed
Within the limits of your leave – I hope.
DAME TURF
And I too, my fine daughter! I could love her
Now twice as well as if Clay had her.
TUB
Come, come, my mother is pleased. I pardon all.
Pol-Marten, in, and wait upon my lady.
Welcome, good guests! See supper be served in 20
I must confer with Master In-and-In
About some alterations in my masque.
Send Hilts out to me; bid him bring the council
Of Finsbury hither. I’ll have such a night 25
Shall make the name of Totten Court immortal,
TUB
Oh, Master In-and-In, what ha’ you done?
TUB
Ad infinitum, sir, you mean.
MEDLEY
I mean myself still, in the plural number,
And out of this we raise our Tale of a Tub.
MEDLEY
But I, the author.
TO-PAN
Yes, every barber, every cutler has it.
TUB
But how shall the spectators,
As it might be I, or Hilts, know ’tis my mother?
Or that Pol-Marten, there, that walks before her?
CLENCH
You ha’ seen none of his works, sir!
TO-PAN
And all their captains.
TUB
Well, I will leave all to him.
HILTS
Supper is ready, sir.
My Lady calls for you.
TUB
I’ll send it you in writing.
TUB
Hilts, be’t your care
To see the wise of Finsbury made welcome;
Let ’em want nothing. Iz old Rosin sent for?
SCRIBEN
Lord, what a world of business
The Squire dispatches!
JACK
Yonder’s another wedding, Master Basket,
Brought in by Vicar Hugh.
HILTS
What are they, Jack?
HILTS
And are the table merry?
JACK
There’s a young tile-maker makes all laugh. 5
He will not eat his meat, but cries at th’board
He shall be hanged.
SECOND GROOM
This for the Squire, my master, on the right hand.
FIRST GROOM
And this for the High Constable.
SECOND GROOM
This, his wife.
FIRST GROOM
Then for the bride and bridegroom here, Pol-Marten. 5
SECOND GROOM
And she Pol-Marten at my lady’s feet.
FIRST GROOM
Right.
SECOND GROOM
And beside them Master Hannibal Puppy.
SECOND GROOM
No, Master Vicar,
The petty Chanon Hugh.
5.10 [Enter] LADY [TUB], PREAMBLE before her, TURF, DAME TURF, POL-MARTEN, AUDREY, PUPPY, WISP, [CHANON] HUGH, CLAY, [and the COUNCIL OF FINSBURY]. All take their seats. HILTS waits on the by.
An ancient Tub, hath called you to this sport.
His father was a knight, the rich Sir Peter,
Who got his wealth by a tub and by saltpetre,
And left all to his Lady Tub, the mother 15
Of this bold Squire Tub, and to no other.
Observe, and you shall see the very tale.
Loud music.
The First Motion
MEDLEY
Here Chanon Hugh first brings to Totten Hall20
The High Constable’s counsel, tells the Squire all;
The wise of Finsbury do still pursue.
Then with the Justice doth he counterplot,
Missing her son, doth seek him up and down.
MEDLEY
Yes,
I have expressed it here in figure, and Mistress Wisp, her woman, holding up her train. 30
HILTS
Ha’ peace!
Loud music.
The Second Motion
MEDLEY
Here the High Constable and sages walk
To church. The dame, the daughter, bride-maids talk
Of wedding-business, till a fellow in comes, 35
Relates the robbery of one Captain Thumbs;
Chargeth the bridegroom with it, troubles all,
And gets the bride; who in the hands doth fall
Of the bold Squire, but thence soon is ta’en
Holds, but betrays all with his trembling tongue;
HILTS
Did I not make him to confess all to you?
TUB
True, In-and-In hath done you right, you see.
Thy third, I pray thee, witty In-and-In.
HILTS
Ha’ peace!
Loud music.
The Third Motion
Puppy brings word his daughter’s run away
With the tall servingman. He frights groom Clay 55
Out of his wits. Returneth then the Squire,
For falsely charging Clay, when ’twas the plot
Of subtle Bramble, who had Audrey got
And with his daughter, like Saint George on foot,
And tells the Lady Tub, whom he meets there,
When Captain Thumbs coming to ask him why
He had so done, he cannot yield him cause,
HILTS
Ha’ peace! 70
Loud music.
The Fourth Motion
Like his teeth from him, unto Captain Thumbs.
Thumbs is the Vicar in a false disguise, 75
And employs Metaphor to fetch this prize,
Who tells the secret unto Basket Hilts,
The wench for him; they two shall share the coin. 80
Breaks off, returning unto Kentish Town
To seek her Wisp, taking the Squire along,
TUB
On with your last, and come to a conclusion.
Loud music.
The Fifth Motion
These figures as you sit. I, In-and-In,
Present you with the show: first, of a Lady
Tub and her son, of whom this masque here made I. 95
Then bridegroom Pol and Mistress Pol the bride,
Epilogue
A poet first invented for your sport,
Wherein the fortune of most empty tubs,
Of the whole Hundred so opposeth it.
Sly Justice’s arts, with the High Constable’s brief
And her Pol-Marten’s fortune; with the rare 10
Got In-and-In to gi’t you in a masque:
That you be pleased, who came to see a play,
With those that hear and mark not what we say.
Wherein the poet’s fortune is, I fear, 15