Eastward Ho!
Touchstone. [...] Heyday, Ruffins’ Hall! Sword,
pumps, here’s a racket indeed! (1.1.21–22
Quicksilver. [...] [L]et’s be no longer fools to this
flat-cap Touchstone--eastward, bully--this satin belly and canvas backed
Touchstone. ’Slife, man, his father was a maltman, and his mother sold
gingerbread in Christ Church (1.1.132–36).
Golding. [...] Alas, I behold thee with pity, not
with anger. Thou common shotclog, gull of all companies, methinks I see thee
already walking in Moorfields
without a cloack, with half a hat, without a band, a doublet with three
buttons, without a girdle, a hose with one point and no garter, with a
cudgel under thine arm, borrowing and begging threepence (1.1.157–64).
Mildred. Well, sister, those that scorn their nest,
oft fly with a sick wing.
Gertrude. [...] Sweet knight, as soon as ever we are
married, take me to thy mercy out of this miserable chity; presently carry
me out of the scent of Newcastle coal, and the hearing of Bow-bell; I beseech thee down with
me for God’s sake (1.2.138–43).
Touchstone. Sir, ’Eastward Ho’ will make you go
Westward Ho! I will no longer dishonest my house, nor endanger my stock with
your licence (2.1.133–35).
Sir Petronel. [...] And the sun being outshined with
her laydship’s glory, she fears he goes westward to hang himself (2.2.253–55).
Quicksilver. God’s me, knight, put ’em in
sufficient sureties, rather than let your sword bail you; let ’em take their
choice, either the King’s Bench, or the
Fleet, or which of the two Counters they like best, for by the
Lord I like none of ’em (2.2.288–92).
Sir Petronel. [...] If you will meet my friend Frank
here and me at the Blue Anchor Tavern by Billingsgate this evening, we will there drink to our happy
voyage, be merry, and take boat to our ship with all expedition (3.2.54–68).
Gertrude. [...] Marry, hang you! Westward with a
wanion t’ ye! (3.2.95–96)
Sir Petronel. [...] [L]et me now entreat you
The money we agreed on may be brought
To the Blue Anchor, near to Billingsgate,
By six o’clock, where I and my chief friends,
Bound for this voyage, will with feasts attend you (3.2.225–29).
Seagull. Come, drawer, pierce your neatest
hogsheads, and let’s have cheer, not fit for your Billingsgate tavern, but for our Virginian colonel;
he will be here instantly (3.3.1–4).
Security. [...] And so, Master Frances, here’s to
all that are going eastward tonight, towards Cuckold’s Haven; and so to
the health of Master Bramble.
Quicksilver. I pledge it, sir. [He kneels.] Hath it gone round, captains?
Seagull. It has, sweet Frank, and the round
closes with thee.
Quicksilver. Well, sir, here’s to all eastward
and toward cuckolds, and so to famous Cuckold’s Haven, so fatally
remembered (3.3.125–33).
Drawer. Sir Petronel, here’s one of your watermen
come to tell you it will be flood these three hours; and that ’t will be
dangerous going against the tide--for the sky is overcast, and there was a
porpoise even now seen at London
Bridge, which is always the messenger of tempests, he says (3.3.153–58).
Security. [...] Here, lady, to you that are
encompassed there, and are ashamed of our company. [They drink, and rise.] Ha, ha, ha! By my troth, my learned
counsel Master Bramble, my mind runs so of Cuckold’s Haven tonight that
my head runs over with admiration.
Bramble. [Aside to Security] But is not that
your wife, neighbour?
Security. [Aside to Bramble] No, by my troth,
Master Bramble. Ha, ha, ha! A pox of all Cuckold’s Havens, I say (3.4.185–98).
Sir Petronel. Gossip, laugh no more at Cuckold’s
Haven, gossip (3.4.211–12).
Security. What, Winnie? Wife, I say? Out of doors
at this time! Where should I seek the gadfly? Billingsgate, Billingsgate, Billingsgate! She’s gone with the knight, she’s gone with the knight!
Woe be to thee, Billingsgate! A
boat, a boat, a boat, a full hundred marks for a boat! (3.4.1–6)
Slitgut. All hail, fair haven of married men only,
for there are none but married men cuckolds. For my part, I presume not to
arrive here but in my master’s behalf, a poor butcher of Eastcheap, who sends me to set up, in honour of
Saint Luke, these necessary ensigns of his homage. And up I got this
morning, thus early, to get up to the top of this famous tree, that is all
fruit and no leaves, to advance this crest of my master’s occupation. Up
then; heaven and Saint Luke bless me, that I be not blown into the Thames as
I climb, with this furious tempest. ’Slight, I think the devil be abroad, in
likeness of a storm, to rob me of my horns. Hark how he roars. Lord! What a
coil the Thames keeps! She bears some unjust burden, I believe, that she
kicks and curvets thus to cast it. Heaven bless all honest passengers that
are upon her back now, for the bit is out of her mouth, I see, and she will
run away with ’em. So, so, I think I have made it look the right way; it
runs against London Bridge, as it
were, even full butt. And now let me discover from this lofty prospect what
pranks the rude Thames plays in her desperate lunacy. O me, here’s a boat
has been cast away hard by (4.1.1–25).
Security. What! landed at Cuckold’s Haven? Hell
and damnation! I will run back and drown myself.
Slitgut. Poor man, how weak he is! The water
has washed away his strength.
Security. Landed at Cuckold’s Haven? If it had
not been to die twenty times alive, I should never have scaped death
(4.1.44–50).
Slitgut. [...] A woman! i’faith, a woman. Though it
be almost at Saint Katharine’s, I
discern it to be a woman, for all her body is above the water, and her
clothes swim about her most handsomely. O, they bear her upmost bravely! Has
not a woman reason to love the taking up of her clothes the better while she
lives, for this? Alas, how busy the rude Thames is about her! A pox o’ that
wave! (4.1.64–72)
Drawer. [...] Were not you one that took boat,
late this night, with a knight and other gentlemen at Billingsgate?
Winifred. Unhappy that I am, I was.
Drawer. I am glad it was my good hap to come
down thus far after you, to a house of my friend’s here in Saint Katharine’s, since I am now
happily made a mean to your rescue from the ruthless tempest (4.1.88–95)[.]
Slitgut. See, see, see! I hold my life, there’s
some other a-taking up at Wapping now! Look, what a sort of people cluster
about the gallows there! (4.1.125–27)
1 Gentleman. [...] I see y’ have been washed in the
Thames here, and I believe ye were drowned in a tavern before, or else you
would never have took boat in such a dawning as this was (4.1.192–95).
Seagull. [...] Woe, woe is me, what shall become of
us? The last money we could make, the greedy Thames has devoured; and if our
ship be attached, there is no hope can relieve us (4.1.217–21).
Golding. [...] The colonel and all his company, this
morning putting forth drunk from Billingsgate, had like to have been cast away o’ this side
Greenwich (4.2.96–100).
Quicksilver. Would it had been my fortune to have
been trussed up at Wapping, rather than ever ha’ come here (4.2.204–06).
Touchstone. [...] [O]ne that married a daughter of
mine, ladyfied her, turned two thousand pounds’ worth of good land of hers
into cash within the first week, bought her a new gown and a coach, sent her
to seek her fortune by land, whilst himself prepared for his fortune by sea,
took in fresh flesh at Billingsgate,
for his own diet, to serve im the whole voyage--the wife of a certain
usurer, called Security, who hath been the broker for ’em in all his
business (4.2.268–77).
Touchstone. [Aside to
Golding] Now, son, come over ’em with some fine gird, as thus:
’Knight, you shall be encountered’, that is, had to the Counter (4.2.283–84)[.]
Touchstone. [...] They’ll look out at a window, as
thou ridest in triumph to Tyburn, and cry, ’Yonder goes honest Frank, mad
Quicksilver!’ (4.2.336–39).
Golding. Officers, take ’em to the Counter (4.2.364).
Wolf. And he has converted one Fangs, a sergeant, a
fellow could neither write nor read; he was called the Bandog o’ the
Counter, and he has brought him already to pare his nails, and say his
prayers, and ’tis hoped he will sell his place shortly and become an
intelligencer (5.2.67–72).
Friend. Is the knight any scholar too?
1 Prisoner. No, but he will speak very well,
and discourse admirably of running horses and Whitefriars, and against bawds, and of cocks;
and talk as loud as a hunter, but is none (5.5.22–26).
[...]
[...]
[...]
Quicksilver. [Sings.]
Still ’Eastward Ho’ was all my word;
But westward I had no regard,
Nor never thought what would come after,
As did, alas, his youngest daughter (5.5.81–84).
[...]
Quicksilver [...] [Sings.]
Farewell, Cheapside, farewell,
sweet trade
Of goldsmiths all, that never shall fade;
Farewell, dear fellow prentices all,
And be you warnèd by my fall:
Shun usurers, bawds, and dice, and drabs;
Avoid them as you would French scabs.
Seek not to go beyond your tether,
But cut your thongs unto your leather;
So shall you thrive by little and little,
Scape Tyburn, Counters, and the Spital (5.5.120–29).
[...]
Touchstone. Bring him forth, Master Wolf, and
release his bands.
[Exit WOLF, and return with
SECURITY.]
This day shall be sacred to mercy, and the mirth of this encounter in the
Counter (5.5.161–64).
Gertrude. [...] I ha’ been proud and lascivious,
father; and a fool, father; and being raised to the state of a wanton coy
thing, called a lady, father, have scorned you, father, and my sister, and
my sister’s velvet cap, too; and would make a moutha t the city as I rid
through it, and stop mine ears at Bow-bell (5.5.174–79).
Touchstone. [...] Have you no apparel to lend
Francis to shift him?
Quicksilver. No, sir, nor I desire none; but
here make it my suit that I may go home through the streets in these, as
a spectacle, or rather an example, to the children of Cheapside (5.5.212–17).
Quicksilver. [To
Touchstone] Stay, sir, I perceive the multitude are gathered together
to view our coming out at the Counter (Epilogue 1–3).
References
- Chapman, George, Ben Jonson, and John Marston. Eastward Ho! Ed. R.W. Van Fossen. Revels Plays. Manchester; New York: Manchester UP, 1999. Print.
This project is supported by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council.
