The Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher

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FRANCIS BEAUMONT

Born 1584
Died 1616

JOHN FLETCHER

Born 1579
Died 1625

THE ELDER BROTHER

THE SPANISH CURATE

WIT WITHOUT MONEY

BEGGARS BUSH

THE HUMOUROUS LIEUTENANT

THE FAITHFUL SHEPHERDESS

THE TEXT EDITED BY

ARNOLD GLOVER, M.A.

OF TRINITY COLLEGE AND THE INNER TEMPLE

AND

A.R. WALLER, M.A.

OF PETERHOUSE

CAMBRIDGE: at the University Press 1906

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS WAREHOUSE,
C.F. CLAY, MANAGER.
London: FETTER LANE, E.C.
Glasgow: 50, WELLINGTON STREET.
Leipzig: F.A. BROCKHAUS.
New York: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.
Bombay and Calcutta: MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD.

[_All Rights reserved._]

NOTE:

The text of the present volume was passed for press by Arnold Glover and
some progress had been made in his lifetime in the collection of the
material given in the Appendix. Mrs. Glover's help has again been most
valuable in the completion of the work.

_The Elder Brother_ is printed entirely in prose in the Second Folio, and
I have therefore printed in the Appendix the play in verse, as it appeared
in the First Quarto. The case is an interesting one, and readers will be
glad, I think, to have both forms in the same volume.

I have not concerned myself with passages in the Second Folio in prose
which have since been printed as verse. On the whole I agree with a recent
critic who characterises as 'vexatious' the 'later practice of printing
much manifest prose as verse, each post-seventeenth century editor
apparently making it a point of honour to discover metre where no one had
found it before, and where no one with an ear can find it now.'

I am glad to have had the opportunity of seeing the 1625 manuscript of
_Demetrius and Enanthe_, the play first printed in a somewhat mutilated
form in the First Folio of 1647, where it is called _The Humorous
Lieutenant_. It is stated in the _Dictionary of National Biography_ (Vol.
XIX, p. 306) that this MS. is preserved in the Dyce Library but the
statement is incorrect. The MS. has never been a part of the Dyce
collection. It was printed by Dyce in 1830 and after that date it rested
for many years in obscurity. To Mrs. Glover is due the credit for having
traced it to its present home. For help in this search our thanks are due
to Lord Stanley of Alderley, to W.R.M. Wynne, Esq., of Peniarth, Towyn,
Merioneth (whose father owned the MS. and left a note in his copy of
Dyce's reprint that he had given the MS. to his "old friend the late W.
Ormsby Gore, Esq., M.P. for North Shropshire") and to Lord Harlech, the
grandson of Mr. Ormsby Gore. Lord Harlech re-discovered the MS. in his
library at Brogyntyn, Oswestry, and he has very kindly permitted a
thorough examination of it. Dyce's 1830 publication is described as a
reprint "verbatim et literatim," but it has little claim to be so called.
The punctuation is altered throughout, the spelling is altered in scores
of words and though the actual verbal differences between the original MS.
and Dyce's reprint of it are not very many, yet these occur here and there
throughout the play. Later editors, therefore, relying upon Dyce, have
been led into recording as 'MS.' readings variations which do not occur in
the MS. A brief description of the MS. will be found in the Appendix, pp.
509-18, together with the passages omitted from the Folios and a complete
record of the verbal variations. The present collation omits readings
incorrectly given by Dyce.

The third volume of this text will be ready immediately and good progress
is being made with the remaining volumes. When the publication of the
entire text is completed it is intended to print, by way of a commentary
thereon, a companion volume containing a series of explanatory notes upon
the text, a glossary and whatsoever supplementary material may be deemed
to be of use to the student or to the general reader.

A.R. WALLER.
CAMBRIDGE,
30 _January_, 1906.

THE ELDER BROTHER,
A COMEDY.

Persons Represented in the Play.

Lewis, _a Lord_.
Miramont, _a Gentleman_.
Brisac, _a Justice, Brother to_ Miramont.
Charles, _a Scholar_, \ _Sons to_
Eustace, _a Courtier_, / Brisac.
Egremont, \ _two Courtiers, friends to_
Cowsy, / Eustace.
Andrew, _Servant to_ Charles.
Cook, \ _Servants to_
Butler, / Brisac.
Priest.
Notary.
Servants.
Officers.

Angellina, _Daughter to_ Lewis.
Sylvia, _her Woman_.
Lilly, _Wife to_ Andrew.
Ladies.

_LECTORI._

_Wouldst thou all Wit, all Comick Art survey?
Read here and wonder;_ Fletcher _writ the Play._

_ACTUS PRIMUS. SCENA PRIMA._

_Enter_ Lewis, Angellina, _and_ Sylvia.

_Lewis._ Nay, I must walk you farther.

_Ang._ I am tir'd, Sir, and ne'er shall foot it home.

_Lew._ 'Tis for your health; the want of exercise takes from your
Beauties, and sloth dries up your sweetness: That you are my only Daughter
and my Heir, is granted; and you in thankfulness must needs acknowledge,
you ever find me an indulgent Father, and open handed.

_Ang._ Nor can you tax me, Sir, I hope, for want of duty to deserve these
favours from you.

_Lew._ No, my _Angellina_, I love and cherish thy obedience to me, which
my care to advance thee shall confirm: all that I aim at, is, to win thee
from the practice of an idle foolish state, us'd by great Women, who think
any labour (though in the service of themselves) a blemish to their fair
fortunes.

_Ang._ Make me understand, Sir, what 'tis you point at.

_Lew._ At the custom, how Virgins of wealthy Families waste their youth;
after a long sleep, when you wake, your Woman presents your Breakfast,
then you sleep again, then rise, and being trimm'd up by other hands,
y'are led to Dinner, and that ended, either to Cards or to your Couch, (as
if you were born without motion) after this to Supper, and then to Bed:
and so your life runs round without variety or action, Daughter.

_Syl._ Here's a learned Lecture!

_Lew._ Fro[m] this idleness, Diseases, both in body and in mind, grow
strong upon you; where a stirring nature, with wholesome exercise, guards
both from danger: I'd have thee rise with the Sun, walk, dance, or hunt,
visit the Groves and Springs, and learn the vertue of Plants and Simples:
Do this moderately, and thou shalt not, with eating Chalk, or Coles,
Leather and Oatmeal, and such other trash, fall into the Green-sickness.

_Syl._ With your pardon (were you but pleas'd to minister it) I could
prescribe a Remedy for my Lady's health, and her delight too, far
transcending those your Lordship but now mention'd.

_Lew._ What is it, _Sylvia_?

_Syl._ What is't! a noble Husband; in that word, a noble Husband, all
content of Woman is wholly comprehended; He will rouse her, as you say,
with the Sun; and so pipe to her, as she will dance, ne'er doubt it; and
hunt with her, upon occasion, until both be weary; and then the knowledge
of your Plants and Simples, as I take it, were superfluous. A loving, and,
but add to it, a gamesome Bedfellow, being the sure Physician.

_Lew_. Well said, Wench.

_Ang_. And who gave you Commission to deliver your Verdict, Minion?

_Syl_. I deserve a Fee, and not a frown, dear Madam: I but speak her
thoughts, my Lord, and what her modesty refuses to give voice to. Shew no
mercy to a Maidenhead of fourteen, but off with't: let her lose no time,
Sir; Fathers that deny their Daughters lawful pleasures, when ripe for
them, in some kinds edge their appetites to taste of the fruit that is
forbidden.

_Lew_. 'Tis well urg'd, and I approve it: No more blushing, Girl, thy
Woman hath spoke truth, and so prevented what I meant to move to thee.
There dwells near us a Gentleman of bloud, Monsieur _Brisac_, of a fair
Estate, six thousand Crowns _per annum_, the happy Father of two hopeful
Sons, of different breeding; the Elder, a meer Scholar; the younger, a
quaint Courtier.

_Ang_. Sir, I know them by publick fame, though yet I never saw them; and
that oppos'd antipathy between their various dispositions, renders them
the general discourse and argument; one part inclining to the Scholar
_Charles_, the other side preferring _Eustace_, as a man compleat in
Courtship.

_Lew_. And which way (if of these two you were to chuse a Husband) doth
your affection sway you?

_Ang_. To be plain Sir, (since you will teach me boldness) as they are
simply themselves, to neither: let a Courtier be never so exact, let him
be bless'd with all parts that yield him to a Virgin gracious; if he
depend on others, and stand not on his own bottoms, though he have the
means to bring his Mistris to a Masque, or by conveyance from some great
ones lips, to taste such favour from the King: or grant he purchase
precedency in the Court, to be sworn a servant Extraordinary to the Queen;
nay, though he live in expectation of some huge preferment in reversion;
if he want a present fortune, at the best those are but glorious dreams,
and only yield him a happiness in _posse_, not in _esse_; nor can they
fetch him Silks from the Mercer, nor discharge a Tailors Bill, nor in full
plenty (which still preserves a quiet Bed at home) maintain a Family.

_Lew_. Aptly consider'd, and to my wish: But what's thy censure of the
Scholar?

_Ang._ Troth (if he be nothing else) as of the Courtier, all his Songs and
Sonnets, his Anagrams, Acrosticks, Epigrams, his deep and Philosophical
Discourse of Nature's hidden Secrets, makes not up a perfect Husband; he
can hardly borrow the Stars of the Celestial Crown to make me a Tire for
my Head, nor _Charles's Wain_ for a Coach, nor _Ganymede_ for a Page, nor
a rich Gown from _Juno's_ Wardrobe, nor would I lie in (for I despair not
once to be a Mother) under Heaven's spangled Canopy, or Banquet my Guests
and Gossips with imagin'd Nectar; pure _Orleans_ would do better: No, no,
Father, though I could be well pleas'd to have my Husband a Courtier, and
a Scholar, young, and valiant; these are but gawdy nothings, if there be
not something to make a substance.

_Lew._ And what is that?

_Ang._ A full Estate, and that said, I've said all; and get me such a one
with these Additions, farwel Virginity, and welcome Wedlock.

_Lew._ But where is such a one to be met with, Daughter? A black Swan is
more common; you may wear grey Tresses e're we find him.

_Ang._ I am not so punctual in all Ceremonies, I will 'bate two or three
of these good parts, before I'le dwell too long upon the choice.

_Syl._ Only, my Lord, remember, that he be rich and active, for without
these, the others yield no relish, but these perfect. You must bear with
small faults, Madam.

_Lew._ Merry Wench, and it becomes you well; I'le to _Brisac_, and try
what may be done; i'th' mean time home, and feast thy thoughts with
th'pleasures of a Bride.

_Syl._ Thoughts are but airy food, Sir, let her taste them.

ACTUS I. SCENA II.

_Enter_ Andrew, Cook, _and_ Butler.

_And._ Unload part of the Library, and make room for th'other dozen of
Carts; I'le straight be with you.

_Cook._ Why, hath he more Books?

_And._ More than ten Marts send over.

_But._ And can he tell their names?

_And._ Their names! he has 'em as perfect as his _Pater Noster_; but
that's nothing, h'as read them over leaf by leaf three thousand times; but
here's the wonder, though their weight would sink a Spanish Carrock,
without other Ballast, he carrieth them all in his head, and yet he walks
upright.

_But._ Surely he has a strong brain.

_And._ If all thy pipes of Wine were fill'd with Books, made of the Barks
of Trees, or Mysteries writ in old moth-eaten Vellam, he would sip thy
Cellar quite dry, and still be thirsty: Then for's Diet, he eats and
digests more Volumes at a meal, than there would be Larks (though the Sky
should fall) devoured in a month in _Paris_. Yet fear not Sons o'the
Buttery and Kitchin, though his learn'd stomach cannot be appeas'd; he'll
seldom trouble you, his knowing stomach contemns your Black-jacks,
_Butler_, and your Flagons; and _Cook_, thy Boil'd, thy Rost, thy Bak'd.

_Cook._ How liveth he?

_And._ Not as other men do, few Princes fare like him; he breaks his fast
with _Aristotle_, dines with _Tully_, takes his watering with the _Muses_,
sups with _Livy_, then walks a turn or two in _Via Lactea_, and (after six
hours conference with the Stars) sleeps with old _Erra Pater_.

_But._ This is admirable.

_And._ I'le tell you more hereafter. Here's my old Master, and another old
ignorant Elder; I'le upon 'em.

_Enter_ Brisac, Lewis.

_Bri._ What, _Andrew_? welcome; where's my _Charles_? speak, _Andrew_,
where did'st thou leave thy Master?

_And._ Contemplating the number of the Sands in the Highway, and from
that, purposes to make a Judgment of the remainder in the Sea: he is, Sir,
in serious study, and will lose no minute, nor out of's pace to knowledge.

_Lew._ This is strange.

_And._ Yet he hath sent his duty, Sir, before him in this fair Manuscript.

_Bri._ What have we here? Pot-hooks and Andirons!

_And._ I much pity you, it is the Syrian Character, or the Arabick. Would
you have it said, so great and deep a Scholar as Mr _Charles_ is, should
ask blessing in any Christian Language? Were it Greek I could interpret
for you, but indeed I'm gone no farther.

_Bri._ And in Greek you can lie with your smug Wife _Lilly_.

_And_. If I keep her from your French Dialect, as I hope I shall, Sir;
however she is your Landress, she shall put you to the charge of no more
Soap than usual for th'washing of your Sheets.

_Bri_. Take in the Knave, and let him eat.

_And_. And drink too, Sir.

_Bri_. And drink too Sir, and see your Masters Chamber ready for him.

_But_. Come, Dr _Andrew_, without Disputation thou shalt Commence i'the
Cellar.

_And_. I had rather Commence on a cold Bak'd meat.

_Cook_. Thou shalt ha't, Boy.

_Bri_. Good Monsieur _Lewis_, I esteem my self much honour'd in your clear
intent, to joyn our ancient Families, and make them one; and 'twill take
from my age and cares, to live and see what you have purpos'd but in act,
of which your visit at this present is a hopeful Omen; I each minute
expecting the arrival of my Sons; I have not wrong'd their Birth for want
of Means and Education, to shape them to that course each was addicted;
and therefore that we may proceed discreetly, since what's concluded
rashly seldom prospers, you first shall take a strict perusal of them, and
then from your allowance, your fair Daughter m[a]y fashion her affection.

_Lew_. Monsieur _Brisac_, you offer fair and nobly, and I'le meet you in
the same line of Honour; and I hope, being blest but with one Daughter, I
shall not appear impertinently curious, though with my utmost vigilance
and study, I labour to bestow her to her worth: Let others speak her form,
and future Fortune from me descending to her; I in that sit down with
silence.

_Bri_. You may, my Lord, securely, since Fame aloud proclaimeth her
perfections, commanding all mens tongues to sing her praises; should I say
more, you well might censure me (what yet I never was) a Flatterer. What
trampling's that without of Horses?

_Enter_ Butler.

_But_. Sir, my young Masters are newly alighted.

_Bri_. Sir, now observe their several dispositions.

_Enter_ Charles.

_Char_. Bid my Supsiser carry my Hackney to the Butt'ry, and give him his
Bever; it is a civil and sober Beast, and will drink moderately; and that
done, turn him into the Quadrangle.

_Bri_. He cannot out of his University tone.

_Enter_ Eustace, Egremont, Cowsy.

_Eust_. Lackey, take care our Coursers be well rubb'd, and cloath'd; they
have out-stripp'd the Wind in speed.

_Lew_. I marry, Sir, there's metal in this young Fellow! What a Sheep's
look his elder Brother has!

_Char_. Your blessing, Sir.

_Bri_. Rise, _Charles_, thou hast it.

_Eust_. Sir, though it be unusual in the Court, (since 'tis the Courtiers
garb) I bend my knee, and do expert what follows.

_Bri_. Courtly begg'd. My blessing, take it.

_Eust. (to Lew.)_ Your Lordship's vow'd adorer. What a thing this Brother
is! yet I'le vouchsafe him the new Italian shrug--
How clownishly the Book-worm does return it!

_Char_. I'm glad ye are well. [_Reads_.

_Eust_. Pray you be happy in the knowledge of this pair of accomplish'd
Monsieurs; they are Gallants that have seen both Tropicks.

_Bri_. I embrace their love.

_Egr_. Which we'll repay with servulating.

_Cow_. And will report your bounty in the Court.

_Bri_. I pray you make deserving use on't first. _Eustace_, give
entertainment to your Friends; what's in my house is theirs.

_Eust_. Which we'll make use of; let's warm our brains with half a dozen
Healths, and then hang cold discourse, for we'll speak Fire-works. [_Ex_.

_Lew._ What, at his Book already?

_Bri._ Fie, fie, _Charles_, no hour of interruption?

_Char._ Plato differs from Socrates in this.

_Bri._ Come, lay them by; let them agree at leisure.

_Char._ Man's life, Sir, being so short, and then the way that leads unto
the knowledge of our selves, so long and tedious, each minute should be
precious.

_Bri._ In our care to manage worldly business, you must part with this
Bookish contemplation, and prepare your self for action; to thrive in this
Age is held the blame of Learning: You must study to know what part of my
Land's good for the Plough, and what for Pasture; how to buy and sell to
the best advantage; how to cure my Oxen when they're o'er-grown with
labour.

_Char._ I may do this from what I've read, Sir; for, what concerns
Tillage, who better can deliver it than _Virgil_ in his _Georgicks_? and
to cure your Herds, his _Bucolicks_ is a Masterpiece; but when he does
describe the Commonwealth of Bees, their industry, and knowledge of the
herbs from which they gather Honey, with their care to place it with
_decorum_ in the Hive; their Government among themselves, their order in
going forth, and coming loaden home; their obedience to their King, and
his rewards to such as labour, with his punishments only inflicted on the
slothful Drone; I'm ravish'd with it, and there reap my Harvest, and there
receive the gain my Cattle bring me, and there find Wax and Honey.

_Bri._ And grow rich in your imagination; heyday, heyday! _Georgicks_,
_Bucolicks_, and Bees! art mad?

_Char._ No, Sir, the knowledge of these guards me from it.

_Bri._ But can you find among your bundle of Books (and put in all your
Dictionaries that speak all Tongues) what pleasure they enjoy, that do
embrace a well-shap'd wealthy Bride? Answer me that.

_Char._ 'Tis frequent, Sir, in Story, there I read of all kind of virtuous
and vitious women; the antient Spartan Dames, and Roman Ladies, their
Beauties and Deformities; and when I light upon a _Portia_ or _Cornelia_,
crown'd with still flourishing leaves of truth and goodness; with such a
feeling I peruse their Fortunes, as if I then had liv'd, and freely tasted
their ravishing sweetness; at the present loving the whole Sex for their
goodness and example. But on the contrary, when I look on a
_Clytemnestra_, or a _Tullia_; the first bath'd in her Husband[s] bloud;
the latter, without a touch of piety, driving on her Chariot o'er her
Father's breathless Trunk, horrour invades my faculties; and comparing the
multitudes o'th' guilty, with the few that did die Innocents, I detest and
loath 'em as Ignorance or Atheism.

_Bri_. You resolve then ne'er to make payment of the debt you owe me.

_Char._ What debt, good Sir?

_Bri_. A debt I paid my Father when I begat thee, and made him a
Grandsire, which I expect. from you.

_Char_. The Children, Sir, which I will leave to all posterity, begot and
brought up by my painful Studies, shall be my living Issue.

_Bri_. Very well; and I shall have a general Collection of all the
quiddits from _Adam_ to this time, to be my Grandchild.

_Char_. And such a one, I hope, Sir, as shall not shame the Family.

_Bri_. Nor will you take care of my Estate?

_Char_. But in my wishes; for know, Sir, that the wings on which my Soul
is mounted, have long since born her too high, to stoop to any Prey that
soars not upwards. Sordid and dunghill minds, compos'd of earth, in that
gross Element fix all their happiness; but purer Spirits, purged and
refin'd, shake off that clog of humane frailty; give me leave t'enjoy my
self; that place that does contain my Books (the best Compa[n]ions) is to
me a glorious Court, where hourly I converse with the old Sages and
Philosophers, and sometimes for variety, I confer with Kings and Emperors,
and weigh their Counsels, calling their Victories (if unjustly got) unto a
strict accompt, and in my phancy, deface their ill-plac'd Statues; can I
then part with such constant pleasures, to embrace uncertain vanities? No,
be it your care t'augment your heap of wealth; it shall be mine t'increase
in knowledge--Lights there for my Study-- [_Exit._

_Bri_. Was ever man that had reason thus transported from all sense and
feeling of his proper good? It vexes me, and if I found not comfort in my
young _Eustace_, I might well conclude my name were at a period!

_Lew_. He is indeed, Sir, the surer base to build on.

_Enter_ Eustace, Egremont, Cowsy, _and_ Andrew.

_Bri_. Eustace.

_Eust_. Sir.

_Bri_. Your ear in private.

_And_. I suspect my Master has found harsh welcome, he's gone supperless
into his Study; could I find out the cause, it may be borrowing of his
Books, or so, I shall be satisfied.

_Eust_. My duty shall, Sir, take any form you please; and in your motion
to have me married, you cut off all dangers the violent heats of youth
might bear me to.

_Lew_. It is well answer'd.

_Eust_. Nor shall you, my Lord, for your fair Daughter ever find just
cause to mourn your choice of me; the name of Husband, nor the authority
it carries in it, shall ever teach me to forget to be, as I am now, her
Servant, and your Lordship's; and but that modesty forbids, that I should
sound the Trumpet of my own deserts, I could say, my choice manners have
been such, as render me lov'd and remarkable to the Princes of the Blood,

_Cow_. Nay, to the King.

_Egre_. Nay to the King and Council.

_And_. These are Court-admirers, and ever echo him that bears the Bag.
Though I be dull-ey'd, I see through this jugling.

_Eust_. Then for my hopes.

_Cow_. Nay certainties.

_Eust_. They stand as fair as any mans. What can there fall in compass of
her wishes, which she shall not be suddenly possess'd of? Loves she
Titles? by the grace and favour of my Princely Friends, I am what she
would have me.

_Bri_. He speaks well, and I believe him.

_Lew_. I could wish I did so. Pray you a word, Sir. He's a proper
Gentleman, and promises nothing, but what is possible. So far I will go
with you; nay, I add, he hath won much upon me; and were he but one thing
that his Brother is, the bargain were soon struck up.

_Bri_. What's that, my Lord?

_Lew_. The Heir.

_And_. Which he is not, and I trust never shall be.

_Bri._ Come, that shall breed no difference; you see _Charles_ has given
o'er the world; I'le undertake, and with much ease, to buy his Birth-right
of him for a Dry-fat of new Books; nor shall my state alone make way for
him, but my elder Brothers, who being issueless, to advance our name, I
doubt not will add his. Your resolution?

_Lew._ I'le first acquaint my Daughter with the proceedings; on these
terms I am yours, as she shall be, make you no scruple. Get the Writings
ready, she shall be tractable; to morrow we will hold a second conference.
Farewell noble _Eustace_; and you brave Gallants.

_Eust._ Full increase of honour wait ever on your Lordship.

_And._ The Gout rather, and a perpetual Meagrim.

_Bri._ You see, _Eustace_, how I travel to possess you of a Fortune you
were not born to; be you worthy of it: I'le furnish you for a Suitor:
visit her, and prosper in't.

_Eust._ She's mine, Sir, fear it not: in all my travels, I ne'er met a
Virgin that could resist my Courtship. If it take now, we're made for
ever, and will revel it. [_Ex._

_And._ In tough Welsh Parsly, which, in our vulgar Tongue, is strong
Hempen Halters; my poor Master cozen'd, and I a looker on! If we have
studi'd our Majors and our Minors, Antecedents and Consequents, to be
concluded Coxcombs, w'have made a fair hand on't. I am glad I have found
out all their plots, and their Conspiracies; this shall t'old Monsieur
_Miramont_, one, that though he cannot read a Proclamation, yet dotes on
Learning, and loves my Master _Charles_ for being a Scholar; I hear he's
coming hither, I shall meet him; and if he be that old, rough, testy blade
he always us'd to be, I'le ring him such a peal, as shall go near to shake
their Belroom, peradventure beat'm, for he is fire and flax; and so have
at him. [_Exit._

_ACTUS SE[C]UNDUS. SCENA PRIMA._

_Enter_ Miramount, Brisac.

_Mir._ Nay, Brother, Brother.

_Bri._ Pray, Sir, be not moved, I meddle with no business but mine own,
and in mine own 'tis reason I should govern.

_Mir._ But how to govern then, and understand, Sir, and be as wise as
y'are hasty, though you be my Brother, and from one bloud sprung, I must
tell ye heartily and home too.

_Bri._ What, Sir?

_Mir._ What I grieve to find, you are a fool, and an old fool, and that's
two.

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