[ Goldsmith's Row. The inner stage represents Touchstone's stall. ]


TOUCHSTONE, GOLDING, and MILDRED are discovered sitting on either side of the stall.

Touch.
Quicksilver! — Master Francis Quicksilver! — Master Quicksilver!

Enter QUICKSILVER.


Quick.
Here, sir; (ump!)

Touch.
So, sir; nothing but flat "Master Quicksilver," without any familiar addition will fetch you. Will you truss my points, sir?

Quick.
Ay, forsooth; (ump!)

Touch.
How now, sir! the drunken hiccup so soon this morning?

Quick.
'Tis but the coldness of my stomach, forsooth.

Touch.
What! have you the cause natural for it? Y' are a very learned drunkard: I believe I shall miss some of my silver spoons with your learning. The nuptial night will not moisten your throat sufficiently, but the morning likewise must rain her dews into your gluttonous weasand.

Quick.
An 't please you, sir, we did but drink (ump!) to the coming off of the knightly bridegroom.

Touch.
To the coming off an him?

Quick.
Ay, forsooth, we drunk to his coming on (ump!), when we went to bed; and, now we are up, we must drink to his coming off: for that's the chief honor of a soldier, sir; and therefore we must drink so much the more to it, forsooth (ump!)

Touch.
A very capital reason! So that you go to bed late, and rise early to commit drunkenness! You fulfil the scripture very sufficient wickedly, forsooth.

Quick.
The knight's men, forsooth, be still a' their knees at it (ump!) and because 'tis for your credit, sir, I would be loath to flinch.

Touch.
I pray, sir, e'en to 'em again, then; y'are one of the separated crew, one of my wife's faction, and my young lady's, with whom, and with their great match, I will have nothing to do.

Quick.
So, sir; now I will go keep my (ump!) credit with 'em, an 't please you, sir.

Touch.
In any case, sir, lay one cup of sack more a' your cold stomach, I beseech you.

Quick.
Yes, forsooth.

Exit QUICKSILVER.

Touch.
This is for my credit! Servants ever maintain drunkenness in their master's house for their master's credit — a good idle serving man's reason. I thank Time the night is past; I ne'er wak'd to such cost; I think we have stow'd more sorts of flesh in our bellies than ever Noah's ark received; and, for wine, why my house turns giddy with it, and more noise in it than at a conduit. Ay, me, even beasts condemn our gluttony. Well, 'tis our city's fault, which, because we commit seldom, we commit the more sinfully; we lose no time in our sensuality, but we make amends for it. Oh, that we would do so in virtue and religious negligences! But see, here are all the sober parcels my house can show. I'll eavesdrop — hear what thoughts they utter this morning.


GOLDING and MILDRED come forward.

Gold.
But is it possible that you, seeing your sister preferr'd to the bed of a knight, should contain your affections in the arms of a prentice?

Mil.
I had rather make up the garment of my affections in some of the same piece than, like a Fool, wear gowns of two colors, or mix sackcloth with satin.

Gold.
And do the costly garments, the title and fame of a lady, the fashion, observation, and reverence proper to such preferment, no more inflame you than such convenience as my poor means and industry can offer to your virtues?

Mil.
I have observ'd that the bridle given to those violent flatteries of fortune is seldom recover'd; they bear one headlong in desire from one novelty to another; and where those ranging appetites reign, there is ever more passion than reason: no stay, and so no happiness. These hasty advancements are not natural. Nature hath given us legs to go to our objects; not wings to fly to them.

Gold.
How dear an object you are to my desires I cannot express; whose fruition would my master's absolute consent and yours vouchsafe me, I should be absolutely happy. And, though it were a grace so far beyond my merit that I should blush with unworthiness to receive it, yet thus far both my love and my means shall assure your requital: you shall want nothing fit for your birth and education; what increase of wealth and advancement the honest and orderly industry and skill of our trade will afford in any, I doubt not will be aspir'd by me; I will ever make your contentment the end of my endeavors; I will love you above all; and only your grief shall be my misery, and your delight my felicity.

Touch.
[ aside ] Work upon that now! By my hopes, he woos honestly and orderly; he shall be anchor of my hopes. Look, see the ill-yok'd monster, his fellow!


Re-enter QUICKSILVER, unlac'd, a towel about his neck, in his flat cap, drunk.

Quick.
Eastward Ho! "Holla, ye pampered jades of Asia!"

Touch.
[ aside ] Drunk now downright, a' my fidelity!

Quick.
(Ump!) Pulldo, pulldo! showse, quoth the caliver.

Gold.
Fie, fellow Quicksilver, what a pickle are you in!

Quick.
Pickle? Pickle in thy throat; 'zouns, pickle! — Wa, ha, ho! — Good morrow, knight Petronel. — Morrow, lady Goldsmith. — Come off, knight, with a counterbuff, for the honor of knighthood.

Gold.
Why, how now, sir? Do ye know where you are?

Quick.
Where I am? Why, 'sblood, you jolt-head, — where I am!

Gold.
Go to, go to, for shame go to bed, and sleep out this immodesty; thou sham'st both my master and his house.

Quick.
Shame? what shame? I thought thou wouldst show thy bringing up; an thou wert a gentleman as I am, thou wouldst think it no shame to be drunk. Lend me some money; save my credit; I must dine with the serving men and their wives — and their wives, sirrah!

Gold.
E'en who you will; I'll not lend thee threepence.

Quick.
'Sfoot; lend me some money; "hast thou not Hyren here?"

Touch.
Why, how now, sirrah? what vein's this, ha?

Quick.
"Who cries on murther? Lady, was it you?" How does our master? Pray thee, cry "Eastward Ho!"

Touch.
Sirrah, sirrah, y'are past your hiccup now; I see y' are drunk —

Quick.
'Tis for your credit, Master.

Touch.
And hear you keep a whore in town.

Quick.
'Tis for your credit, Master.

Touch.
And what you are out in cash I know.

Quick.
So do I. My father's a gentleman. Work upon that now! Eastward Ho!

Touch.
Sir, "Eastward Ho" will make you go Westward Ho! I will no longer dishonest my house, nor endanger my stock with your license. There, sir: there's your indenture; all your apparel (that I must know) is on your back; and from this time my door is shut to you: from me be free; but, for other freedom and the moneys you have wasted, "Eastward Ho" shall not serve you.

Quick.
Am I free a' my fetters? Rent, fly with a duck in thy mouth; and now I tell thee, Touchstone —

Touch.
Good sir ——

Quick.
"When this eternal substance of my soul —"

Touch.
Well said; change your gold ends for your play ends.

Quick.
"Did live imprison'd in my wanton flesh —"

Touch.
What then, sir?

Quick.
"I was a courtier in the Spanish court,
And Don Andrea was my name."

Touch.
Good Master Don Andrea, will you march?

Quick.
Sweet Touchstone, will you lend me two shillings?

Touch.
Not a penny.

Quick.
Not a penny? I have friends, and I have acquaintance; I will piss at thy shop posts, and throw rotten eggs at thy sign. Work upon that now!

Exit, staggering.

Touch.
Now, sirrah, you! hear you? You shall serve me no more neither — not an hour longer.

Gold.
What mean you, sir?

Touch.
I mean to give thee thy freedom, and with thy freedom my daughter, and with my daughter a father's love; and, with all these, such a portion as shall make knight Petronel himself envy thee! Y' are both agreed, are ye not?

Ambo.
With all submission, both of thanks and duty.

Touch.
Well then, the great power of Heaven bless and confirm you. And, Golding, that my love to thee may not show less than my wife's love to my eldest daughter, thy marriage feast shall equal the knight's and hers.

Gold.
Let me beseech you, no, sir; the superfluity and cold meat left at their nuptials will, with bounty, furnish ours. The grossest prodigality is superfluous cost of the belly; nor would I wish any invitement of states or friends; only your reverend presence and witness shall sufficiently grace and confirm us.

Touch.
Son to mine own bosom, take her and my blessing. The nice fondling, my Lady Sir-reverence, that I must not now presume to call daughter, is so ravish'd with desire to hansel her new coach and see her knight's Eastward Castle, that the next morning will sweat with her busy setting forth. Away will she and her mother; and, while their preparation is making, ourselves, with some two or three other friends, will consummate the humble match we have in God's name concluded.
'Tis to my wish; for I have often read,
Fit birth, fit age, keeps long a quiet bed.
'Tis to my wish; for tradesmen, well 'tis known,
Get with more ease than gentry keeps his own.

Exeunt.