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  • Title: Englishmen For My Money (Quarto 1, 1616)
  • Editor: Natalie Aldred

    • ISBN:

    Copyright Digital Renaissance Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Haughton
    Editor: Natalie Aldred
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Englishmen For My Money (Quarto 1, 1616)

    Enter Uandalle.
    1700 Uand. Oh de skellam Frisco, ic weit neit waer dat ic be,
    ic goe and hit my nose op dit po st, and ic goe and hit my
    nose op danden po st; Oh de villaine: Well, waer ben ic
    now? Haw laet syen is dut neit cro she vrier, ya seker so i st
    and dit M. Pisaros huis: Oh de good shaunce, well ic sall
    1705now haue de Wen she Laurentia, me stris Laurentia.
    Enter Laurentia, Marina, Mathea, aboue.
    Mari. Who's there, Mai ster Haruie?
    Math. Mai ster Walgrave?
    Laur. Mai ster Heigham?
    1710 Uand. Ya my Louue, here be me ster Heigham your
    groot frinde.
    Mari. How, mai ster Heigham my grot vrinde?
    Out alas, here's one of the Strangers.
    Lauren. Peace you Mammet, let's see which it is; wee
    1715may chaunce teach him a strange tricke for his learning:
    M. Heigham, what wind driues you to our house so late?
    Vand. Oh my leif Mesken, de loue tol vbe so groot, dat
    het bring me out my bed voor you.
    Math. Ha, ha, we know the A s s e by his eares; it is the
    1720 Dutchman: what shall we doe with him?
    Laure. Peace, let him not know, that you are heere: M.
    Heigham, if you will stay a while that I may se, if my Father
    be a sleepe, and Ile make meanes we may come togeather
    Uand. Dat sal ick my Loua. Is dit no well counterfett
    1725I speake so like me ster Heigham as tis possible.
    Laure. Well, what shall we doe with this Lubber?
    (Louer I should say.)
    Math. What shall wee doe with him?
    Why crowne him with a ----
    1730 Mari. Fie Slutt: No, wele vse him clenlier; you know
    we haue neuer a Signe at the dore, would not the ie st proue
    currant, to make the Dutchman supply that want.
    Laure. Nay, the foole will cry out, & so wake my father.
    Mat. Why, then wele cut the Rope & ca st him downe.
    1735 Laur. And so je st out a hanging; lets rather draw him vp
    in the Basket, and so starue him to death this fro sty night.
    Mari. In sadne s s e, well aduisde: Si ster, doe you holde
    him in talke, and weele prouide it whil st.
    Laur. Goe to then. M. Heigham, oh sweete M. Higham,
    1740doth my Father thinke that his vnkindnes can part you &
    poore Laurentia? No, no, I haue found a drift to bring you
    to my Chamber, if you haue but the heart to venter it.
    Vand. Ventre, sal ick goe to de see, and be de see, and ore
    de see and in de see voer my sweete Louue.
    1745 Laur. Then you dare goe into a Basket; for I know no
    other meanes to inioy your companie, then so: for my Fa-
    ther hath the Keyes of the Dore.
    Vand. Sal ick climb vp tot you? sal ick fly vp tot you?
    sal ick, wat segdy?
    1750 Math. Bid him doe it Si ster, wee shall see his cunning.
    Laur. Oh no, so you may catch a fal. There M. Heigham,
    Put your selfe into that Basket, and I will draw you vp:
    But no words I pray you, for feare my Si ster heare you.
    Vand. No, no; no word: Oh de seete Wen she, Ick come,
    1755 Ick come.
    Laur. Are you ready mai ster Heigham?
    Vand. Ia ick my sout Lady.
    Mari. Merily then my Wenches.
    Laur. How heauie the A s s e is: Mai ster Heigham, is there
    1760any in the Basket but your selfe?
    Vand. Neit, neit, dare be no man.
    Laur. Are you vp sir? Vand. Neit, neit.
    Mari. Nor neuer are you like to climbe more higher:
    Si sters, the Woodcock's caught, the Foole is cag'd.
    1765 Vand. My sout Lady I be I be nuc neit vp, pul me tot v.
    Math. When can you tell? what mai ster Uandalle,
    A wether beaten soldier an old wencher,
    Thus to be ouer reach'd by three young Girles:
    Ah sirra now weele bragge with Mi stres Moore,
    1770To haue as fine a Parret as she hath,
    Looke si sters what a pretty foole it is:
    What a greene grea sie shyning Coate he hath,
    An Almonde for Parret, a Rope for Parret.
    Uand. Doe you moc que me seger seger,
    1775I sal seg your vader.
    Laur. Doe and you dare, you see here is your fortune,
    Disquiet not my father; if you doe,
    Ile send you with a vengeance to the ground,
    Well we mu st confe s s e we trouble you,
    1780And ouer watching makes a wiseman madde,
    Much more a foole, theres a Cu shion for you,
    Mari. To bore you through the nose.
    Laur. To lay your head on.
    Couch in your Kennell sleape and fall to re st,
    1785And so good night for London maydes skorne still,
    A Dutch-man should be seene to curbe their will.
    Uand. Hort ye Daughter, hort ye? Gods seker kin? will
    ye no let me come tot you? ick bid you let me come tot you
    watt sal ick don, ick would neit vor vn hundred pounde
    1790 Aluaro & Delion, should see me ope dit maner, well wat sal
    ick don, ick mout neit cal: vor de Wen shes wil cut de rope
    and breake my necke; ick sal here bleauen til de morning,
    & dan ick sal cal to me ster Pisaro, & make him shafe & shite
    his dauctors: Oh de skellum Frisco, Oh des cruel Hores.
    1795 Enter Pisaro.
    Pisa. Ile put the Light out, lea st I be espied,
    For closely I haue stolne me foorth a doares,
    That I might know, how my three Sonnes haue sped.
    Now (afore God) my heart is passing light,
    1800That I haue ouerreach'd the Engli shmen:
    Ha, ha, Mai ster Uandalle, many such nights
    Will swage your bigg swolne bulke, and make it lancke:
    When I was young; yet though my Haires be gray,
    I haue a Young mans spirit to the death,
    1805And can as nimbly trip it with a Girle,
    As those which fold the spring-tide in their Beards:
    Lord how the verie thought of former times,
    Supples these neere dried limbes with actiuene s s e:
    Well, thoughts are shaddowes, sooner lo st then seene,
    1810Now to my Daughters, and their merrie night,
    I hope Aluaro and his companie,
    Haue read to them morall Philosophie,
    And they are full with it: Heere Ile stay,
    And tarry till my gallant youths come foorth.
    1815 Enter Haruie, Walgraue, and Heigham.
    Heigh. You mad-man, wild-oats, mad-cap, where art (thou?.
    Walg. Heere afore.
    Haru>. Oh ware what loue is? Ned hath found the scent;
    And if the Connie chaunce to mi s s e her Burrough,
    1820Shee's ouer-borne yfayth, she cannot stand it.
    Pisa. I know that voyce, or I am much deceiued.
    Heigh. Come, why loyter wee? this is the Dore:
    But soft, heere's one a sleepe.
    Walg. Come, let mee feele:
    1825Oh tis some Rogue or other; spurn him, spurne him.
    Haru. Be not so wilfull, prethee let him lie.
    Heigh. Come backe, come backe, for wee are pa st the (house,
    Yonder's Matheas Chamber with the light.
    Pisa. Well fare a head, or I had been discride.
    1830Gods mee, what make the Young sters heere so late?
    I am a Rouge, and spurne him: well Iacke sauce,
    The Rogue is waking yet, to marre your sport.
    Walg. Matt, Mi stress Mathea; where be these Girles?
    Enter Mathea alone.
    1835 Math. Who's there below?
    Walg. Thy Ned, kind Ned, thine hone st tru sty Ned.
    Math. No, no, it is the Frenchman in his stead,
    That Moun sieur motlicoate that can di s s emble:
    Heare you Frenchman, packe to your Whores in Fraunce;
    1840Though I am Portingale by the Fathers side,
    And therefore should be lu stfull, wanton, light;
    Yet goodman Goosecap, I will let you know,
    That I haue so much Engli sh by the Mother,
    That no bace slauering French shall make me stoope:
    1845And so, sir Dan-delion fare you well.
    Walg. What speachle s s e, not a word: why how now Ned:
    Har. The Wench hath tane him downe,
    He hanges his head.
    Walg. You Dan-de-lion, you that talke so well:
    1850Harke you a word or two good Mi stris Matt,
    Did you appoynt your Friends to meete you heere,
    And being come, tell vs of Whores in Fraunce,
    A Spani sh Iennet, and an Engli sh Mare,
    A Mongrill, halfe a Dogge and half a Bitch;
    1855 With Tran-dido, Dil-dido, and I know not what?
    Heare you, if you'le run away with Ned,
    And be content to take me as you find me,
    Why so law, I am yours: if otherwise,
    Youle change your Ned to be a Frenchmans Trull?
    1860 Why then, Madame Delion, Ie uous la s s era a Dio, et la
    bon fortune
    Math. That voyce a s s ures mee, that it is my Loue:
    Say truly, Art thou my Ned? art thou my Loue?
    Walg. Swounds who should I be but Ned?
    1865You make me sweare.
    Enter aboue Marina.
    Mari. Who speake you to? Mathea who's below?
    Haru. Marina.
    Mari. Young mai ster Haruy? for that voyce saith so.
    1870 Enter Laurentia.
    Alua. Speake si ster Matt, is not my true Loue there?
    Math. Ned is.
    Laur. Not mai ster Heigham?
    Heigh. Laurentia, heere.
    1875 Laur. Yfayth thou'rt welcome.
    Heigh. Better cannot Fall.
    Math. Sweete, so art thou.
    Mari. As much to mine.
    Laur. Nay Gentles, welcome all.
    1880 Pisa. Here's cunning harlotries, they feed these off
    With welcome, and kind words, whil st other Lads
    Reuell in that delight they should po s s e s s e:
    Good Girls, I promise you I like you well.
    Mari. Say mai ster Haruy, saw you, as you came,
    1885That Leacher, which my Sire appoynts my man;
    I meane that wanton base Italian,
    That Spani sh -leather spruce companion:
    That anticke Ape trickt vp in fa shion?
    Had the A s s e come, I'de learne him, difference been
    1890Betwixt an Engli sh Gentleman and him.
    Heigh. How would you vse him (sweete)
    If he should come?
    Mari. Nay nothing (sweet) but only wa sh his crowne:
    Why the A s s e wooes in such an amorous key,
    1895That he presumes no Wench should say him nay:
    Hee slauers not his Fingers, wipes his Bill,
    And sweares infayth you shall, infayth I will;
    That I am almo st madd to bide his woeing.
    Heigh. Looke what he said in word, Ile act in doing.
    1900 Walg. Leaue thought of him, for day steales on apace,
    And to our Loues: Will you performe your words;
    All things are ready, and the Parson stands,
    To ioyne as hearts in hearts, our hands in hands;
    Night fauours vs, the thing is quickly done,
    1905Then tru s s e vp bagg and Bagages, and be gone:
    And ere the morninge, to augment your ioyes,
    Weele make you mothers of sixe goodly Boyes.
    Heigh. Promise them three good Ned, and say no more.
    Walg. But Ile get three, and if I gette not foure.
    1910 Pisa. Theres a sound Carde at Maw, a lu stie lad,
    Your father thought him well, when one he had,
    Heigh. What say you sweetes, will you performe your
    wordes?
    Matt. Loue to true loue, no le s s er meede affordes?
    1915Wee say we loue you, and that loues fayre breath
    Shall lead vs with you round about the Earth:
    And that our loues, vowes, wordes, may all proue true,
    Prepare your Armes, for thus we flie to you. they Embrace.
    Walg. This workes like waxe, now ere to morrow day,
    1920If you two ply it but as well as I,
    Weele worke our landes out of Pisaros Daughters:
    And cansell all our bondes in their great Bellies,
    When the slaue knowes it, how the Roge will curse.
    Matt. Sweete hart.
    1925 Walg. Matt.
    Mathe. Where art thou.
    Pisa. Here.
    Mathe. Oh Iesus heres our father.
    Walg. The Diuell he is.
    1930 Har u. Mai ster Pisaro, twenty times God morrow.
    Pisa. Good morrow? now tell I you Gentlemen,
    You wrong and moue my patience ouermuch,
    What will you Rob me, Kill me, Cutte my Throte:
    And set mine owne bloud here again st me too,
    1935You huswiues? Baggages? or what is worse,
    Wilfull, stoubborne, disobedient:
    Vse it not Gentlemen, abuse me not,
    Newgate hath rome, theres law enough in England,
    Heigh. Be not so te stie, heare what we can say.
    1940 Pisa. Will you be wiu'de? fir st learne to keepe a wife,
    Learne to be thriftie, learne to keepe your Lands,
    And learne to pay your debts to, I aduise, else.
    Walg. What else, what Lands, what Debts, what will
    you doe?
    1945Haue you not Land in Morgage for your mony,
    Nay since tis so, we owe you not a Penny,
    Frette not, Fume not, neuer bende the Browe:
    You take Tenn in the hundred more then Law,
    We can complayne, extortion, simony,
    1950Newgate hath Rome, thers Law enough in England.
    Heigh. Prethe haue done.
    Walg. Prethy me no Prethies.
    Here is my wife, Sbloud touch her, if thou dar st,
    Hear st thou, Ile lie with her before thy face,
    1955Again st the Cro s s e in Cheape, here, any where,
    What you old craftie Fox you.
    Heigh. Ned, stop there.
    Pisa. Nay, nay speake out, beare witne s s e Gentlemen,
    Whers Mowche, charge my Musket, bring me my Bill,
    1960For here are some that meane to Rob thy mai ster.
    Enter Anthony.
    I am a Fox with you, well Iack sawce,
    Beware lea st for a Goose, I pray on you.
    Exeunt Pisaro and Daughters.
    1965In baggages, Mowche make fa st the doore.
    Walg. A vengeance on ill lucke,
    Antho. What neuer storme,
    But bridle anger with wise gouernment.
    Heigh. Whom? Anthony our friend, Ah now our hopes,
    1970Are found too light to ballance our ill happes.
    Antho. Tut nere say so, for Anthony
    Is not deuoyde of meanes to helpe his Friends.
    Walg. Swounds, what a diuell made he foorth so late?
    Ile lay my life twas hee that fainde to sleepe,
    1975And we all vnsuspitious, tearmde a Roage:
    Oh God, had I but knowne him; if I had,
    I would haue writt such Letters with my Sword
    Vpon the bald skin of his parching pate,
    That he should nere haue liude to cro s s e vs more.
    1980 Antho. These menaces are vaine, and helpeth naught:
    But I haue in the deapth of my conceit
    Found out a more materiall strategem:
    Harke Mai ster Walgraue, yours craues quicke dispatch,
    About it straight, stay not to say farewell. Exit Walgrave.
    1985You Mai ster Heigham, hie you to your Chamber,
    And stirre not foorth, my shaddow, or my selfe,
    Will in the morning earely vi sit you;
    Build on my promise sir, and good night. Exit Heigham.
    La st, yet as great in loue, as to the fir st:
    1990Yf you remember, once I told a ie st,
    How feigning to be sicke, a Friend of mine
    Po s s e st the happy i s s ue of his Loue:
    That counterfeited humor mu st you play;
    I need not to in struct, you can conceiue,
    1995Vse mai ster Browne your Ho st, as chiefe in this:
    But fir st, to make the matter seeme more true,
    Sickly and sadly bid the churle good night;
    I heare him at the Window, there he is.
    Enter Pisaro aboue.
    2000Now for a tricke to ouerreach the Diuell.
    I tell you sir, you wrong my mai ster much,
    And then to make amends, you giue hard words:
    H'ath been a friend to you; nay more, a Father:
    I promise you, tis mo st vngently done.
    2005 Pisa. I, well said Mouche, now I see thy loue,
    And thou shalt see mine, one day if I liue.
    None but my Daughters sir, hanges for your tooth:
    I'de rather see them hang'd fir st, ere you get them.
    Haru. Mai ster Pisaro, heare a dead man speake,
    2010Who singes the wofull accents of his end.
    I doe confe s s e I loue; then let not loue
    Proue the sad engine of my liues remooue:
    Marinaes rich Po s s ession was my bli s s e?
    Then in her lo s s e, all ioy eclipsed is:
    2015As euery Plant takes vertue of the Sunne;
    So from her Eyes, this life and beeing sprung:
    But now debard of those cleare shyning Rayes,
    Death for Earth gapes, and Earth to Death obeyes:
    Each word thou spak st, (oh speake not so againe)
    2020Bore Deaths true image on the Word ingrauen;
    Which as it flue mixt with Heauens ayerie breath,
    Summond the dreadfull Sessions of my death:
    I leaue thee to thy wi sh, and may th'euent
    Prooue equall to thy hope and hearts content.
    2025 Marina to that hap, that happie st is;
    My Body to the Graue, my Soule to bli s s e.
    Haue I done well? Exit Haruie.
    Antho. Excellent well in troth.
    Pisar. I, goe; I, goe: your words moue me as much,
    2030As doth a Stone being ca st again st the ayre.
    But soft, What Light is that? What Folkes be those? Oh tis
    Aluaro & his other Friends, Ile downe & let them in. Exit.
    Enter Belman, Frisco, Vandalle, Delion, & Aluaro.
    Frisc. Where are we now gaffer Buttericke?
    2035 Bel. Why know you not Croched-friers, where be your (wits?
    Aluar. Wat be tis Croche-Uiers? vidite padre dare; tacke
    you dat, me sal troble you no farre.
    Bell. I thanke you Gentlemen, good night:
    Good night Frisco. Exit Belman.
    2040 Frisc. Farewell Buttericke, what a Clowne it is:
    Come on my mai sters merrily, Ile knocke at the dore.
    Antho. Who's theere, our three wise Woers,
    Blockhead our man? had he not been,
    They might haue hanged them-selues,
    2045For nay Wenches they had hit vpon:
    Good morrow, or good den, I know not whether.
    Delio. Mon sieur de Mowche, wat macke you out de
    Houis so late?
    Enter Pisaro below.
    2050 Pisa. What, what, young men & sluggards? fy for shame
    You trifle time at home about vaine toyes,
    Whil st others in the meane time, steale your Brides:
    I tell you sir, the Engli sh Gentlemen
    Had well-ny mated you, and mee, and all;
    2055The Dores were open, and the Girles abroad,
    Their Sweet-hearts ready to receiue them to:
    And gone forsooth they had been, had not I
    (I thinke by reuelation) stopt their flight:
    But I haue coopt them vp, and so will keepe them.
    2060But sirra Frisco, where's the man I sent for?
    Whose Cloake haue you got there?
    How now, where's Uandalle?
    Frisc. For-sooth he is not heere:
    Mai ster Mendall you meane, doe you not?
    2065 Pisar. Why logerhead, him I sent for, where is he?
    Where ha st thou been? How ha st thou spent thy time?
    Did I not send thee to my Sonne Vandalle?
    Frisc. I M. Mendall; why forsooth I was at his Cham-
    ber, and wee were comming hitherward, and he was very
    2070hot, and bade me carry his Cloake; and I no sooner had it,
    but he (being very light) firkes me downe on the left hand,
    and I turnd downe on the left hand, and so lo st him.
    Pisa. Why then you turnd togeather, A s s e.
    Frisc. No sir, we neuer saw one another since.
    2075 Pisa. Why, turnd you not both on the left hand?
    Frisc. No for-sooth we turnd on the left hand.
    Pisa. Hoyda, why yet you went both together.
    Fris . Ah no, we went cleane contrary one from another.
    Pisa. Why Dolt, why Patch, why A s s e,
    2080On which hand turnd yee?
    Frisc. Alas, alas, I cannot tell for-sooth, it was so darke
    I could not see, on which hand we turnd: But I am sure we
    turnd one way.
    Pisa. Was euer creature plagud with such a Dolt?
    2085My Sonne Vandall now hath lo st himselfe,
    And shall all night goe straying bout the Towne;
    Or meete with some strange Watch that knowes him not;
    And all by such an arrant A s s e as this.
    Anth. No, no, you may soone smel the Dutchmans lodg- (ing:
    2090Now for a Figure: Out alas, what's yonder?
    Pisa. Where?
    Fris . Hoyda, hoyda, a Basket: it turnes, hoe.
    Pisa. Peace ye Villaine, and let's see who's there?
    Goe looke about the House; where are our weapons?
    2095 What might this meane?
    Frisc. Looke, looke, looke; there's one in it, he peeps out:
    Is there nere a Stone here to hurle at his Nose.
    Pisa. What, would st thou breake my Windowes
    with a Stone? How now, who's there, who are you sir?
    2100 Frisc. Looke, he peepes out againe: Oh it's M. Mend-
    all, it's M. Mendall: how got he vp thither?
    Pisa. What, my Sonne Vandalle, how comes this to pa s s e?
    Alua. Signor Vandalle, wat do yo goe to de wen she in de
    Basket?
    2105 Vand. Oh Vadere, Vadere, here be su sh cruell Dochter-
    kens, ick ben also wery, also wery, also cold; for be in dit
    little Basket: Ic prey helpe dene.
    Frisc. He lookes like the signe of the Mouth without
    Bi shops gate, gaping, and a great Face, and a great Head,
    2110and no Body.
    Pisa. Why how now Sonne, what haue your Adamants
    Drawne you vp so farre, and there left you hanging
    Twixt Heauen and Earth like Mahomets Sepulchre?
    Antho. They did vnkindly, who so ere they were,
    2115That plagu'd him here, like Tantalus in Hell,
    To touch his Lippes like the de sired Fruite,
    And then to snatch it from his gaping Chappes.
    Alua. A little farder signor Vandalle, and dan you may
    put v hed into de windo and ca sh de Wen sh.
    2120 Vand. Ick prey Vader dat you helps de mee, Ick prey
    Goddie Vader,
    Pisa. Helpe you, but how?
    Frisc. Cut the Rope.
    Antho. Sir, Ile goe in and see,
    2125And if I can, Ile let him downe to you. Exit Anthony.
    Pisa. Doe gentle Mouche: Why but here's a ie st;
    They say, high climers haue the greate st falles:
    If you should fall; as how youle doe I know not,
    Birlady I should doubt me of my Sonne:
    2130Pray to the Rope to hold: Art thou there Mouche?
    Enter Anthony aboue.
    Antho. Yes sir, now you may chuse, whether youle stay
    till I set him downe, or whether I shall cut him downe?
    Frisc. Cut him downe mai ster Mowse, cut him downe,
    2135And let's see, how hele tumble.
    Pisa. Why sauce, who ask'd your counsaile?
    Let him downe,
    What, with a Cu shion too? why you prouided
    To lead your life as did Diogines;
    2140And for a Tubb, to creepe into a Basket.
    Vanda. Ick sall seg v Vader, Ick quame here to your
    Huise and spreake tol de Dochterken.
    Frisc. M. Mendall, you are welcome out of the Basket:
    I smell a Ratt, it was not for nothing, that you lo st me.
    2145 Vand. Oh skellum, you run away from me.
    Pisa. I thought so sirra, you gaue him the slip.
    Frisc. Faw, no for-sooth; Ile tell you how it was: when
    we come from Bucklers-Burie into Corn-Wale, and I had
    taken the Cloake,then you should haue turnd downe on
    2150your left hand and so haue gone right forward, and so
    turnd vp againe, and so haue cro st the streate; and you like
    an A s s e.
    Pisa. Why how now Rascall; is your manners such?
    You a s s e, you Dolt, why led you him through Corn-hill,
    2155Your way had been to come through Canning streete.
    Frisc. Why so I did sir.
    Pisa. Why thou see st yee were in Corn-Hill.
    Frisc. Indeed sir there was three faults, the Night was
    darke, Mai ster Mendall drunke, and I sleepy, that we could
    2160not tell very well, which way we went.
    Pisa. Sirra I owe for this a Cudgelling:
    But Gentlemen, sith things haue faulne out so,
    And for I see Uandalle quakes for cold,
    This night accept your Lodginges in my house,
    2165And in the morning forward with your marriage.
    Come on my sonnes, sirra fetch vp more wood.
    Exeunt.
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