Ben Jonson

“ An honest faithful servant is a jewel.—
Now the ad vent'rous 'squire hath time and leisure
To ask his Awdrey how she does, and hear
A grateful answer from her. She not speaks.—
Hath the proud tyrant Frost usurp'd the seat
Of former beauty, in my love's fair cheek;
Staining the roseate tincture of her blood
With the dull dye of blue congealing cold?
No, sure the weather dares not so presume
To hurt an object of her brightness. Yet,
The more I view her, she but looks so, so.
Ha! give me leave to search this mystery—
O now I have it: Bride, I know your grief ”

“ Now on my faith, old bishop Valentine,
You have brought us nipping weather—Februere
Doth cut and shear—your day and diocese
Are very cold. All your parishioners,
As well your laics as your quiristers,
Had need to keep to their warm feather beds,
If they be sped of loves: [1] this is no season,
To seek new makes in; though sir Hugh of Pancras
Be hither come to Totten, on intelligence,
To the young lord of the manor, 'squire Tripoly,
On such an errand as a mistress is. ”

“ Though I am young and cannot tell [11]
Either what Death or Love is well,
Yet I have heard they both bear darts,
And both do aim at human hearts:
And then again, I have been told,
Love wounds with heat, as Death with cold;
So that I fear they do but bring
Extremes to touch, and mean one thing.
As in a ruin we it call
One thing to be blown up, or fall;
Or to our end, like way may have,
By flash of lightning, or a wave:
So Love's inflamed shaft or brand
May kill as soon as Death's cold hand
Except Love's fires the virtue have
To fright the frost out of the grave. ”

“ Turfe. You shall work it
Into a story for me, neighbour Medlay,
Over my chimney.
Scri. I can give you, sir,
A Roman story of a petty-constable,
That had a daughter that was call'd Virginia,
Like mistress Awdrey, and as young as she;
And how her father bare him in the business,
'Gainst justice Appius, a decemvir in Rome,
And justice of assize.
Turfe. That, that, good D'ogenes!
A learned man is a chronicle.
Scri. I can tell you
A thousand of great Pompey, Cæsar, Trajan,
All the high constables there.
Turfe. That was their place ”

“ This thought is sufficiently familiar to every pastoral writer; but the particular object of Jonson's imitation was Spenser.
"Her name in every tree I will endosse,
That as the trees do grow, her name may grow:
And in the ground each where will it engrosse,
And fill with stones that all men may it know." ”

“ Faith, gossip Turfe, you have, you say, remission
To comprehend all such as are despected:
Now would I make another privy search
Thorough this town, and then you have search'd two towns.
Med. Masters, take heed, let us not vind too many:
One is enough to stay the hangman's stomach.
There is John Clay, who is yvound already, [1]
A proper man, a tile-man by his trade,
A man, as one would zay, moulded in clay;
As spruce as any neighbour's child among you:
And he (you zee) is taken on conspition,
And two or three, they zay, what call you 'em? ”

“ A man that's bid to a bride-ale, if he have cake
And drink enough, he need not vear his stake.
Clench. 'Tis right; he has spoke as true as a gun, believe it.
Enter dame Turfe and Awdrey, followed by Joan,
Joyce, Madge, Parnel, Grisel, and Kate,
dressed for the wedding.
Turfe. Come, Sybil, come; did not I tell you o' this,
This pride and muster of women would mar all?
Six women to one daughter, and a mother!
The queen (God save her) ha' no more herself.
Dame T. Why, if you keep so many, master Turfe,
Why should not all present our service to her?
Turfe. Your service! good! ”

“ Where, by the way, he receives the relation of the Sad Shepherd, Æglamour, who is fallen into a deep melancholy for the loss of his beloved Earine, reported to have been drowned in passing over the Trent, some few days before. They endeavour in what they can to comfort him: but his disease having taken such strong root, all is in vain, and they are forced to leave him. In the mean time, Marian is come from hunting with the huntsmen, where the lovers interchangeably express their loves. Robin Hood enquires if she hunted the deer at force, and what sport he made? ”

“ The witch Maudlin having taken the shape of Marian to abuse Robin Hood, and perplex his guests, cometh forth with her daughter Douce, reporting in what confusion she had left them; defrauded them of their venison, made them suspicious each of the other; but most of all, Robin Flood so jealous of his Marian, as she hopes no effect of love would ever reconcile them; glorying so far in the extent of her mischief as she confesseth to have surprised Earine, stripped her of her garments, to make her daughter appear fine at this feast in them ”

“ The modern prejudice against Jonson is strongly exemplified in the neglect of his minor poems. While even the worst of Shakspeare's pieces have been sought out with avidity (nay the silly trash which passes under his name, such as "When I was a little tiny boy," &c.) and set to music, a number of exquisite songs dispersed among the works of Jonson remain wholly unnoticed. "All is but fortune," as Stephano truly observes; and though it be too much perhaps to expect a Mus. Doc. to read for himself, yet he may fairly be expected to follow the fashion; and Jonson may yet have his turn. ”

“ Meanwhile the young shepherdess Amie, being kist by Karolin, Earine's brother, falls in love; but knows not what love is: but describes her disease so innocently, that Marian pities her. When Robin Hood and the rest of his guests invited, enter to Marian, upbraiding her with sending away their venison to mother Maudlin by Scathlock, which she denies; Scathlock affirms it; but seeing his mistress weep, and to forswear it, begins to doubt his own understanding, rather than affront her farther; which makes Robin Hood and the rest to examine themselves better. ”

“ He has carried him to some drinking Match, or other:
Pol-martin, I will call you so again:
I' am Friends with you now. Go, get your Horse, and ride
To all the Towns about here, where his haunts are;
And cross the Fields to meet, and bring me word:
He cannot be gone far, being a foot.
Be curious to inquire him: and bid Wispe,
My Woman, come, and wait on me. The love
We Mothers bear our Sons, we ha' bought with pain,
Makes us oft view them, with too careful Eyes,
And over-look 'em with a jealous fear,
Out-fitting Mothers. ”

“ Enter Æglamour.
Ægl. Here she was wont to go! and here! and here! [1]
Just where those daisies, pinks, and violets grow:
The world may find the spring by following her;
For other print her airy steps ne'er left. ”

“ Fair Awdrey and myself will cross the fields
The nearest path. Good Hilts, make thou some haste,
And meet us on the way.—Come, gentle Awdrey.
Hilts. Vaith, would I had a few more geances on't! [10]
An you say the word, send me to Jericho.
Outcept a man were a post-horse, I have not known
The like on it; yet, an he had [had] kind words,
I would never irke 'un: but a man may break
His heart out in these days, and get a flap
With a fox-tail, when he has done—and there is all! ”

“ Turfe. Here's a bride-ale indeed! ah zon John, zon Clay!
I little thought you would have proved a piece
Of such false metal.
Clay. Father, will you believe me?
Would I might never stir in my new shoes,
If ever I would do so voul a fact.
Turfe. Well, neighbours, I do charge you to assist me
With 'un to Paddington. Be he a true man, so!
The better for 'un. I will do mine office,
An he were my own begotten a thousand times.
Dame T. Why, do you hear, man? husband, master Turfe?
What shall my daughter do? Puppy, stay here. ”

“ It is in vain. If he lie not by the heels,
I'll lie there for 'un; I will teach the hind
To carry a tongue in his head to his superiors.
Hilts. This's a wise constable! where keeps he school?
Clench. In Kentish-town; a very survere man.
Hilts. But as survere as he is, let me, sir, tell him,
He shall not lay his man by the heels for this.
This was my quarrel; and by his office' leave,
If it carry 'un for this, it shall carry double;
Vor he shall carry me too.
Turfe. Breath of man! ”

“ Or that the man who made such one poor flight,
In his whole life, had with his winged skill
Advanced him upmost on the muses' hill.
When he like poet yet remains, as those
Are painters who can only make a rose. ”

“ One would be tempted to think that Jonson had his treacherous "friend," Drummond of Hawthornden in view, were it not that this gentleman, whose prudence was almost equal to his malignity, kept his libel to himself, at least, while the poet lived. "Jonson bringeth in (he says) clowns making mirth and foolish sports, contrary to all other pastorals." Fol. p. 224. The criticism is worthy of the critic. What would Drummond have clowns brought in for? To settle the dispute between the Romish and Reformed Churches? That had been done by Spenser and others—but Jonson wants no assistance from me. ”

“ I have mislaid my examples of the use of this word, as explained by squire Tub. It seems to have become a cant term about this time, for the use of it is ridiculed by others as well as Jonson. It is thus explained in Coles' English Dict. "Bilk, nothing; also, to deceive."
⁠In "Davenant Vindicated," a burlesque poem, the meaning is thus expressed:
"Some say by Avenant no place is meant,
And that our Lombard is without descent,
And as, by bilk, men mean there's nothing there,
So come from Avenant, means from no-where." ”

“ Her treading would not bend a blade of grass,
Or shake the downy blow-ball from his stalk! ”

“ Turfe. A Tale of a Tub, sir, a mere Tale of a Tub.
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 of these fine silken Tubs:
John Clay and cloth-breech for my money and daughter. [5]
Here comes another old boy too vor his colours,
Enter Rosin, and his two Boys. ”

“ Weber, who did not understand a syllable of what he was quoting, spoke at random as usual. This "obscure phrase," misken, or mixen, is a word perfectly plain, and to be found in every dictionary in the language. Mixen, in short, is a dunghill, and the allusion is to the practice of accelerating the ripening or maturing of any thing by burying it in warm dung. Mr. Weber's ignorance is really pitiable, that of his employers wants a name. ”

“ He is not a hart at all till he has attained that age, as I learn from that treasury of field knowledge, The Gentleman's Recreation; but he is not necessarily even then a hart of ten: that proud distinction is taken from his "bearing."—"As, if he hath four croches on his near horn, and five on his far, you must say he beareth ten, or he is a hart of ten, for you must always make the number even." ”

“ The slot is the print of a stag's foot upon the ground; entries are places through which deer have lately passed, by which their size is guessed at; frayings are the pillings of their horns; and a deer is said to fray her head, when she rubs it against a tree to renew it, or to cause the outward coat of her new horns to fall off; the fewmets are the dung of a deer. ”

“ A lady and her woman here, their huisher eke by side,
(But he stands mute,) have plotted how your Puppy to divide.
Enter dame Turfe, Joan, Joyce, Madge, &c.
Dame T. How now, what noise is this with you, Ball Puppy?
Pup. Oh dame, and fellows of the kitchen! arm,
Arm, for my safety; if you love your Ball:
Here is a strange thing call'd a lady, a mad-dame,
And a device of hers, [1] yclept her woman,
Have plotted on me in the king's highway,
To steal me from myself, and cut me in halfs,
To make one valentine to serve them both ”

“ Come not in piping hot, you have lost that proverb.
Turfe. I yield to truth: wife, are you sussified?
Pan. A right good man! when he knows right, he loves it.
Scri. And he will know't and shew't too by his place
Of being high constable, if no where else.
Enter Hilts, with a false beard, booted and spurred.
Hilts. Well overtaken, gentlemen! I pray you
Which is the queen's high constable among you?
Pup. The tallest man; who should be else, do you think? ”

“ Turfe. O you mean warrens, neighbour, do you not?
Med. Ay, ay, thik same! you know 'em well enough.
Turfe. Too well, too well; would I had never known them!
We good vreeholders cannot live in quiet,
But every hour new purcepts, hues and cries,
Put us to requisitions night and day.—
What shud a man say? ”

“ The high constable's daughter of Kentish-town here, master
Tobias Turfe.
Enter Tub in his night-gown.
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;
Who hath my heart, as I have his: Your mistress
Is to be made away from you this morning,
St. Valentine's day: there are a knot of clowns,
The council of Finsbury, so they are styled,
Met at her father's; all the wise of the hundred ”